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slasherbish · 1 year

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They Know (Chromeskull x gn reader)

Chromeskull x gn reader

Contains spoiler for first laid to rest movie

Bold text is texting and signing

Oh and Preston is alive in this

Crimson droplets of blood painted his shiny mask as he rammed one of his twin hunting knives into the chest ofhis latest piggy. He listened to the final gurling breaths that his victim took before the light in her eyes vanished. Chromeskull cleaned the blade on the corpses shirt before turning the camera on his shoulder off. The glint of his chrome skull mask in th moons pale glow gave the illusion that he wasn’t human.

“Job is done. Will stop by organization before heading home.’ He texted to his assistant Spann. The woman named Spann sighed at the message that popped up on her phone. “He’s coming back now” was all she said to a nervous looking Preston. All Preston could say was “oh fuck”.

Jesse got into his black car after sending the text. He drove through the night wanting to get to the office quickly so he could return home to his dear (y/n). In the early morning hours he pulled into the parking lot of a large warehouse. The offices of the organization were tucke away in the unassuming building.

Once in his office the rather large man sat at his desk to finish any paper work that needed to be done. Soon after Spann and Preston walked in. The normally cocky man stood slightly behind Spann and his face projected the worry he felt inside. Spann on the other hand had her normal emotionless face, she was not an easy person to read.

“What is wrong?” Said Jesse’s text to speech on his phone. He had practically smelled the fear seeping from his underling.

“You know how you tasked us with with watching over you partner while you were away but told us to keep our distance so they would’t be suspicious?” Preston answered quickly. “What did you do Preston?” The voice from Chromeskulls phone spoke again. The underling looked offended “I didn’t do anything. Why assume it was me?” Preston asked.

“Sir surprisingly Preston didn’t do anything this time. Your partner, (y/n) knows” Spann spoke up sure that if she didn’t that her boss would kill preston. As much as she wanted to see that she had to admit that being able to push paper work off on Preston when she didn’t want to do it was useful.

Mr. Cromeans slammed his hands down on the desk. Spann didn’t react to the violent outburst unlike Preston who may as well have jumped out of his skin. The large boss man put his mask away and stormed out of his office. Everyone in his way moved as he oozed anger. Once back in his car he let his fear shine through. The killer was scared. He needed to see his (y/n) as soon as possible. His last significant other had found out what he did for a living and she committed suicide right after, not being able to handle the idea that her gentle giant had a murderous side.

Thoughts overwhelmed the drive home. What if they don’t want to see me? What if they’ve left already? What if they’re scared of me now? What if they went to the cops already? These thoughts raced in his head making the entire drive a blur. He parked in the driveway and let out a shaking breath. More anxious thoughts flooded in his mind like a raging river as he looked in the rearview mirror at his disfigured face. After a few moments he managed to talk himself into going into his house. He didn’t even remember walking up to the front door until he heard the click of it opening. Jesse took a deep breath pushing it open. The house was silent. He prepared for the worst. His chest ached as he walked into the dining room to find papers scattered on the table. They were files on him and his work, there were also graphic pictures of his films. Jesse’s heart drops, he can hear nothing but the sound of his own pounding heart.

“I read through all of it…that is some very dark things…” A soft voice came from behind him. It was the voice of his beloved (y/n). Jesse couldn’t bring himself to turn around, not yet. He didn’t want to see the fear and despair that he assumed would be written on their face. Jesse would never see that though. The next words out of his partners mouth perplexed him. “I was worried. When were you going to tell me? I was starting to think all these business trips were really just for cheating.”

Jesse nearly gave himself whiplash from turning so fast. A smirk was plastered on their face. “You’re not scared of me or angry?” He signed wanting to know why.

“Scared of you? You might be a serial killer but you’re a teddy bear to me. I’m only angry that you didn’t tell me sooner. I’m also relieved that you weren’t cheating.” (y/n) replied.

“You are weird” He signed. He had no idea how his partner was taking this so well.

“Says the man kills for a living” They smiled a genuine smile but it disappeared quickly. “I did think that maybe someone had sent them because they were trying to hurt you or worse. The thought of losing you is what scared the crap out of me.” (y/n) started to gather the pages that were on the table and walked into the living room. Chromeskull followed closely behind curious as to what was going to happen. “We should probably step up our ‘normal’ life image. You know it’s kinda cold in here” Their gentle voiced said. Jesse signed back a simple cold? The house wasn’t even slightly cold. (y/n)’s (e/c) eyes rolled at his cluelessness and placed the papers in the fireplace before setting them aflame.

His significant other smiled a warm smile at him gently placing a hand on either side of his face bringing him down for a loving kiss. The killer happily returned the affection wrapping his arms around their waist. The two came up for air after a few moments. “I love you Jesse Cromeans. No more secrets okay?” He could only nod and kiss their nose in return not wanting to let them go. “That includes having your coworkers stalk me when you’re away.” They said catching the killer off guard making him back up a step. You knew they were there? “Of course I did. They aren’t exactly the best at it. Invite them for dinner. I want to meet them.” (y/n) replied casually. The thought of Preston being in his home made him cringe. Now that could be a disaster.

#chromeskull #jesse cromeans #laid to rest #preston #spann #gn y/n #slasher x reader #x y/n #xreader #x gn reader #slasher #slashers #horror #slasher x gn reader #slasher x y/n #jesse #cromeans #x reader

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highwayphantoms · 11 months

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I'd love to see ❛ an animal that’s tasted human flesh isn’t safe. ❜ for Cal concerning shapeshifting!

pulling one out of my archives tonight for @dadrunkwriting :D

This one... may have run away with me a little bit. Whoops.

Words: 2094 Rating: T Warnings: graphic violence

Of course Meeran would have given them the worst job he could scrounge up. Again.

In a way, it made sense. Harboring a mage was dangerous. Harboring two in a city like Kirkwall was flirting with death. Given the risk Meeran was taking in concealing Cal and Bethany from the templars, he probably thought it was fair to hand them the dangerous, shitty jobs like this one.

Underhanded merchants and traders were a dime a dozen in Kirkwall, and most of them hired the Carta or the Coterie for protection. The smart ones hired their own guards—and of all the things the Hawke siblings might have been tasked with, eliminating one such man was their task for the evening. As was their usual habit, Bethany was at home; between the two of them, Cal was both more adept and better trained. That, and there was no power in the world that could convince Cal to put both of their siblings at more risk than was really necessary.

Carver, well. Carver was beyond stubborn: trying to talk him out of something was about as effective as talking to a rock. Besides, this wasn’t the sort of job that Cal relished taking on alone.

At least it had been easy enough to get eyes on the warehouse their target was tucked away in. Though cats weren’t a common sight in Kirkwall, no one blinked twice at a scruffy tabby cat sauntering through a warehouse like it owned the place. Cats were above the petty squabbles of men.

Sometimes Cal considered foregoing a human shape forever in favor of just living life on four legs. At the same time… some things just required the use of thumbs. That, and Cal was not particularly fond of eating things whole. No, thank you, they’d rather have a proper bowl of stew that’d been on the fire for hours. Something warm, with seasoning added and bones removed.

In a movement that surely looked more fluid than it felt, Cal jumped over the railing that separated them from the meeting point and shifted from cat back to human shape. The world around them was markedly darker with human eyes, but not so dark they couldn’t see Carver’s broad outline a few steps away. “I have good news and bad. Which one do you want first?” they said in a low voice.

Their younger brother snorted. “Is your good news actually good, or is it just better than your cynical ass expected?”

“Only four guards. I’d call that good news.”

Carver made a faintly pleased sound. “Four. We can handle four.”

“Four, plus the asshole we’re actually here for,” Cal replied, absently rubbing the back of their neck. “But we need to move quick.”

“Same as usual?”

Cal smiled wryly. “Yes.” They’d get in, the same way as they had already, and find their target, while Carver provided a distraction from outside. After all, no one ever really expected to be attacked from both inside and out. At least, none of the people that the Red Irons dealt with. Meeran, thankfully, was not stupid enough to fuck directly with the Carta or the Coterie, who would expect a multi-pronged attack. Maybe not one involving a cat turning into a mage, but still.

As it always did, things went to plan until the plan went sideways. The man they’d been sent to get rid of was… smarter than Cal had hoped; in addition to the four guards patrolling the warehouse, he’d had two more guarding his person. Cal could sneak up on one person and kill them without much trouble, but three was well beyond their limited skill in close combat. Circle mages, after all, weren’t permitted to possess blades.

They were perched on a rafter, puzzling out a strategy to contain or distract the guards long enough to get in and out, when they heard the crash of metal on metal ring distantly through the warehouse. Carver.

It was now or never.

Entropy magic was not one of their stronger areas, nor did Cal particularly like relying on that particular school of magic, but it was effective. Very effective. It took a special kind of person to brush off a well-placed Horror, and Cal was nothing if not a very precise spellcaster.

One of the guards was immediately rendered wide-eyed and frozen in place; his mate muttered incoherently to herself. But as Cal dropped from the rafters and drew themself up to their full, human height, the merchant they’d been tasked with removing from play looked them straight in the eye, utterly unaffected.

Fuck me, Cal thought faintly, and cast a wall of fire across the door.

“Interesting,” the man sneered, drawing a dagger from a hidden sheath. As he advanced towards Cal, his two guards forgotten, he went on, “Sending an apostate to kill me. They must be desperate.”

Cal had no plan to dignify that with an answer. Instead, they spread a glyph of paralysis across the floor and stood their ground. If the two guards were smart, they’d stay out of it; they wouldn’t get paid, but they’d still be alive, and Cal knew which of those two options they would rather take.

“Tell me, whelp. Which of those fools hired you?”

They appreciated it when their targets mistook them for someone far younger. Most didn’t take teenagers seriously, and it made them sloppy. Still silent, Cal flashed the man a grim smile.

Then the man stepped onto the glyph, activating it, and Cal moved in an instant. For a man who’d apparently survived at least one assassination attempt, he sure wasn’t dressed like it. Not even the barest scrap of metallic protection, though that mattered little. It didn’t take much to kill a man, not really. A blade to the right part of the neck was a relatively quick death. A blade to certain parts of the torso was a slow, agonizing death.

Their own dagger—carefully sharpened earlier that night—found its mark clean in the side of the man’s neck, and Cal scrambled back as the glyph faded and blood sprayed from the man’s neck. Dropping his own blade, the merchant scrabbled at his neck and yanked the blade out.

“Bad idea,” Cal said quietly as the man collapsed, blood now actively spurting from his ruined neck in frantic pulses. They stepped closer once more to retrieve their blade, wiping the man’s blood off with his own shirt, then turned to the two guards. They both stood with their blades drawn, side by side, and watching warily. Good, they weren’t complete fools. They gestured loosely at the dying man on the floor and said, “You let me walk away, you can keep that shitbag’s coin purse and whatever else he has.”

For a moment, none of them moved. Then, slowly, the female guard lowered her sword. “Deal,” she said.

Cal knew better than to trust that they wouldn’t attack the moment they turned their back. Without turning away from the two guards, they stepped back towards the door, the flames parting for them with barely a flick of a finger. Cal opened the door, stepped clear of it, and slammed it shut once more. The fire would hold them off at least for a few minutes, but even the most hardened man would panic in the face of fire, and Cal wanted them to stay put until they and Carver were a good, long distance away. They placed a quick seal on the door, a magical barrier that would hold up against any mundane attack for close to an hour, and then darted towards the sounds of conflict. In the space of a breath, they shifted again, this time to the form of a large dog, and barreled through a door into the main space of the warehouse. Indeed, four guards: one dead on the floor, one still breathing but not likely to get up anytime soon, and the other two holding their own against Carver.

Cal suspected that fewer mercenaries would willingly draw blades against Carver if they knew he’d fought at Ostagar and survived.

They launched their canine form at the nearer guard still on his feet, knocking him flat to the ground. Unlike the (now very dead) merchant, the guards did wear proper armor—a set, rather than a mismatched assortment like Carver’s—but Cal promptly set to tearing at the man’s helmet and gorget. After all, teeth wouldn’t pierce metal, but they could crush the soft human flesh underneath.

The man they’d tackled writhed under them, and successfully tossed Cal off after a few minutes of struggling, but not before Cal had gotten their jaws around the metal protecting his neck. Though his breathing was labored, proof enough that Cal had done some measure of damage, he scooped his sword up off the ground and got to his feet once more. Cal took a few measured steps back, taking stock of their surroundings, and froze at the sound of shouts coming from the street.

So did the guard, but his hesitation lasted only a moment before he lunged at Cal. They darted aside, his sword just barely glancing off their side, and jumped at him again. He stayed upright this time, but took a few staggered steps back. Clawing at the man’s helm, Cal found purchase at last and yanked the steel off his head. It clattered uselessly against the floor as Cal dropped back to the ground, grimly satisfied.

“We have to go,” Carver hissed, closer than Cal had expected. They acknowledged him with a flick of an ear, and tackled the guard once more. With the helm gone, enough of his neck was exposed; Cal snapped their jaws shut around the man’s throat and tore.

When Cal looked up, there was a full set of six city guards staring at them. None of them, thankfully, had red hair; the absolute last thing they needed was Aveline learning anything more than what little Cal had allowed her to know. It was bad enough she knew that two of the three Hawke children were mages. It would be much worse if she realized the dog that so often accompanied Carver and Bethany was, in fact, not a dog at all.

“You,” one guard snapped, pointing at Carver: the only non-city guard still on his feet. “Sword on the ground. Now.”

After a moment of reluctance, Carver’s sword clattered faintly when he set it on the stone floor.

“Good. Now, what in the Maker’s name happened here?”

“They attacked my dog. I defended it. That’s all, ser.” Carver’s voice was perfectly level, not even the barest hint that the truth was rather the other way around.

“Hm,” the guard responded, sounding unfortunately unconvinced. “Did you have business in this warehouse?”

“No, ser. My dog chased one of them in, and I followed.”

One of the other guards groaned and muttered, “Fucking Fereldans and their dogs.”

The first guard rolled his eyes and said, “Shut up.” Then, turning back towards Carver, he said, “You know what, fine. You’ll spend the night in the Keep, and if we don’t find anything disproving your story, we’ll let you go in the morning. The dog, on the other hand… you and I both saw it tear that man’s throat out. We’ll be doing you a favor, putting it down.”

Cal shrank back. One mage against six guards—there was no way this didn’t end with them dead.

“Please, ser,” Carver said quietly. “That dog is all I have left of my older sister.”

Under safer circumstances, Cal might have laughed. It wasn’t untrue, not entirely, and Maker’s balls they were going to tear him apart for saying that if they both made it out alive, but—

The guard groaned. “Surely even Fereldans realize that an animal that’s tasted human flesh isn’t safe.”

“That’s more his problem than ours, isn’t it?” a third guard remarked. “Let’s toss them in the same cell and call it a night.”

“If it tears him apart, you’re cleaning it up,” the first guard grumbled.

“Fine. Lee, Sarah, you two take the dog. Maurette and Reeves, take him. Quill and I’ll deal with this mess.”

A night in the keep. They could handle that. If they were really lucky, Aveline would’ve pulled a night rotation and might be convinced to let them out before dawn.

The moment their year with the Red Irons was up, Cal was walking away and never, ever looking back. Things would be easier. They had to be.

#dragon age #da fic #jay writes #cal hawke

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kayhi808 · 1 year

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More Than Our Scars - Part 3

"All you have is me. You're stuck with me, darlin'"

This is on repeat in your brain as you stand under the shower. So, its decided. What Bill Russo says is true. You have no money, no ID, no place to go that Wilson Fisk wouldn't be able to find you except here at Anvil. Why should you trust Bill? Why DO you trust him? It's like a visceral belief. You dont know how to explain it. After the abuse & torture you survived over the past 3 years, you shouldn't trust anyone & you didn't until Bill. Given the choice between Wilson & Bill, you want to stay with Bill. How much worse can it be with him? You're in this beautiful loft apartment. He's given you a room of your own. In exchange, you help him with information on Fisk. He basically saved you last night. He definitely has his...quirks. There's a knock on the bathroom door that startles you out of your mental debate. "Yes?"

"I've got you some clothes. I'm leaving it outside the door."

"Thank you. I'll be right out." You shut off the water & wrap yourself in a plush towel. You crack the door open to retrieve your clothes. With a sigh of relief, you realize the room is empty. Billy didn't stay. You change into the clothes that was left. It's athletic wear with the Anvil logo on them. You walk out to the living room & Billy has cleaned up the mess of broken plate & mug and he's relaxed on the couch watching TV. You see him tense up when you walk in. "I'm sorry about the mess I made and thank you for the clothes." Bill shrugs. "You have women's clothes just laying around?"

"I'm not a Neanderthal. I do hire women agents. I went downstairs to get them. We can order more clothes and stuff for you. I can pick it up tonight."

"What exactly is it that you do?" Its a long couch but he moves his legs over & so you take a seat at the opposite end.

"Anvil provides private & military security services."

"And you went after Fisk while on a job?" You notice the tick in his jaw & a hitch in his shoulder. "I'm sorry. It's none of my business."

"It started out as a job. Kingpin had a big shipment coming into the States. He has business in drugs, weapons, human trafficking...you name it. Anvil got brought in by Homeland Security and I don't know if they were tipped off, but the warehouse was rigged to explode. So, now its personal." His voice soft yet hard as steel, "It took the docs, 11hrs of surgery & I still look like this. After that I was in a coma for 6 weeks. Now I'm stuck with rehab and therapy."

You stretch your socked foot out & rest it against his foot; thinking he wouldn't appreciate touch or physical contact even though he had no problem comforting you that way. "Billy. How are you up and about? 6 weeks?"

He adjusts his foot to slide under yours a bit further, "I got released a couple months ago. I don't know why I'm telling you this shit."

"You could have gotten seriously hurt last night. You shouldn't have risked it."

"And where would you be now if I wasn't out? Not cozied up on a couch with a monster."

Presses on his foot, "Hey, your not a monster."

He emits a harsh laugh, "Sweetheart, you need your fucking eyes checked." You fall silent & watch whatever movie Bill has playing on the TV. Bill would hate your pity, but it's not pity you have for him. He's your hero. You see him more romanticized as a dark avenging angel. Bill probably wouldn't want to hear that either. You don't think he's a monster though and he shouldn't think so either. You understand he must still be dealing with a lot. You don't take what he says personally.

An hour may have passed & you curl up on the couch to rest, pulling your foot away from Bill. He turns to you, "I shouldn't have snapped at you."

“It’s ok. It’s been an eventful morning,” you give him a small smile. He reaches behind him & tosses you a throw blanket. You spread the blanket out & seek his feet again. He noticeably relaxes, stretching out so your legs are more entwined and goes back to his movie, while you nap. Maybe he’s not so indifferent to you as you thought. You sigh & close your eyes feeling safer than you have in such a long time. Your angel Billy is watching over you now.

@idaofinfinity @jvanilly

#billy russo #billy russo fanfic #billy russo fanfiction #bill russo x reader #billy russo x reader #billy russo x you

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concernedlily · 2 years

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cousins wip 11

pt 1

pt 2

pt 3

pt 4

pt 5

pt 6

(note: now posted in slightly revised form up to the end of the tumblr pt 6 on AO3)

pt 7

pt 8

pt 9

pt 10

Fortunately for Porsche, he has someone in mind to take out his frustration on.

“What do you want?” Kim says when he opens the door, with an amount of disdain that would be impressive if it didn’t do nothing but emphasise what a kid he is, barely out of his teenage years and surly.

A lethal fucking honed knife of a kid, yeah; one Porsche isn’t even sure he’d be able to take, having watched footage Arm found him of Kim sparring showing him dangerous as fuck even years younger when he still lived at the tower, but still. Porsche has seen a lot of photos and videos of Kim - Chay’s crush had been longstanding, and not subtle - and vaguely remembers the way he’d fought in the warehouse, he’d known Kim is slender and ethereally pretty, but somehow with everything Chay told him he’d worked up a bruiser of a guy, looming over a fragile Chay like a horror film monster.

He’s not. He’s a kid; a kid brother. Kinn’s baby brother and if things had been different he’d have been like Porsche’s brother too. Even as it is, he’s Porsche’s younger cousin. He may be good at killing but he shouldn’t have to, and Porsche feels the weight of having left him as the only one defending Chay.

“I can’t pay a family visit?” Porsche says breezily. Kim glares at Arm, who tries to shuffle a little further behind Porsche, and Porsche signals to him and the rest of his detail to stay in the hall.

“No,” Kim says flatly. “Nobody from the family visits me here. It’s my home.”

“Maybe I’m here to offer you a job,” Porsche says, and that gets him enough narrow-eyed surprise to shove his way into the flat on pure height and weight advantage, keenly aware the whole time that Kim is letting him. Turning his back on Kim takes strength of will, like trying to float in a shark tank.

“I don’t work for the family,” Kim snaps. “Either branch.”

“What if I told you I was moving my brother to the minor family house?” Porsche says, swinging around to face him. The flat isn’t exactly comfortable looking, all black wrought iron and furniture as bland as Kinn’s. The only signs of personality are a collection of guitars, which is nice, and a massive painting of Kim’s own face, like Tankhun has, which as far as Porsche can tell is pretty much a sign of personality disorder.

“You’re not. It isn’t safe,” Kim snarls, and Porsche has no idea how this kid manages to play at being an internet celebrity. Yeah, he’s good-looking, and that face probably does a lot of the work for him while he’s still young and cute and people aren’t looking too closely, but the subtle wrongness of innate mafia-kid bloodlust is far closer to the surface than Kinn’s, even more so than Vegas’. Porsche is going to have to have a word with Chay about not thinking the fucking best about people he meets.

“Don’t work for the family my ass,” Porsche says contemptuously, because he may not have grown up with it, but there’s a touch of mafia kid to him anyway; always has been in how he likes to fight. “And don’t tell me it’s you as well. You’re cousins.”

“Who cares?” Kim says, and he says it like it’s a genuine question. At least Kinn and Tankhun had got intellectually why people might think it was weird for cousins to fuck, even if they didn’t feel it personally. Kim sounds like he’s just landed from the moon and is studying human ways under a microscope.

Porsche says, “I care. And so does he.”

Kim looks furious, in a way that’s like his face spilling into a cake mould, comfortable and familiar, but there’s something else in his eyes, something Porsche used to see in the lone drinkers at the bar; something a bit like heartbreak. “Why are you here?”

“Okay. Okay,” Porsche says. He holds his hands up like surrender and Kim grinds his teeth so hard it’s audible and ungraciously jerks his head at the table.

Once they’re seated, Porsche trying to squash the instinct telling him to check under the table for concealed weapons, he says. “My mother, our mother, wants to meet him. I’m going to ask him, but - it’s a lot. The way she is -” the way your father made her, is what he means, and Kim gets a shadowy look in his eyes like maybe he actually heard that bit the way neither Kinn nor Tankhun would’ve - “is a lot. He told me about the club his friend took him too. You’re at his school, you know those people. If he needs help again…”

Chay won’t thank him for this. Porsche shouldn’t be doing it. Never would have done it, a few months ago, not put someone who’d already hurt him back into Chay’s life, but if there’s one place where principles have never mattered it’s been on making sure Chay is okay, making sure he can thrive. Kim’s not a good man but he’s family, he can’t be bought, and he’s shit-hot; he can be beaten, but not without making it expensive for anyone who wants to try.

“He fucked up the interview,” Kim says.

“Not so badly money couldn’t unfuck it,” Porsche says, knowing his smile is the same sharpness as Kim’s tone.

Kim stares at the table and Porsche stays quiet. Eventually he grinds out, “I’ll look out for him.”

“With less murder this time, if you don’t mind,” Porsche says, because it feels like the little fucking psycho might need it pointing out. Kim looks up at him probably about the same way he looked at those guys before he killed them and Porsche looks back at him flatly. “I don’t know if he’d go back to the same place -”

“He won’t. I had Kinn buy it out and shut it down,” Kim says.

“Fuck,” Porsche mutters. “Okay. Of course you did.”

“That’s the kind of thing he can do when he’s focused on his job,” Kim says. He sits back slowly, into a deceptively tense sprawl in his chair. His eyes are glittering, like it’s not just causing physical pain that gets him going.

“What?” Porsche says slowly.

“I’m glad you’re not with him any more,” Kim says. “You’re just a distraction. He doesn’t need you around.”

“Okay,” Porsche says. He stands up, shoots his cuffs the way he’s seen Kinn do when the person he’s speaking to is completely below his notice, sees Kim recognise the move with fury. “Fuck you.”

“Fuck you,” Kim spits. “Get the fuck out of my house.”

“Your house,” Porsche says, mocking. Like hell is Kim affording this place on warbling on youtube videos occasionally. He might not like the family coming here, but it’s a family house, paid for with family blood money, like all the rest of them. He wanders out, taking in the flat and its contents, pricklingly aware of the way Kim is watching him “Nice place, out on your own. Nice for you to have been able to go out and be a singer.”

He picks up one of the guitars. It’s a smaller one, cheaper, a kids’ instrument, and there are pen initials on the belly in a childish scrawl: not too unlike the Theerapanyakul crest, KTK. He turns around, looks Kim in the eye. “Who taught you guitar?”

Kim goes for him.

Porsche knows two things immediately.

The first is that Kim is even better than he’d looked watching back on bad CCTV footage.

The second is that he’s fighting to incapacitate and Porsche can’t do the same, so Porsche needs to finish this quickly or he’s fucked.

He feints away from a punch that would have taken out several teeth, spins and drops to take the kick that would’ve dislocated his knee on the meat of his thigh, carries the spin round into a kick to Kim’s stomach and an elbow to his shoulder, trying to push him back and get enough space for Kim to rethink this. The suit he’s wearing hinders him irritatingly: he’s going to have to rethink it if he can’t move, maybe there was sense after all to Vegas’ tight trousers and flowing shirts.

Kim is unbelievably fast, and fearless, like he doesn’t care what damage he risks or takes if it gets him the advantage he wants. He steps into Porsche’s superior reach like it isn’t there and throws three quick rabbit punches to the tender area beneath the ribcage, his knee already starting to come up when Porsche caves around his fist.

Porsche grabs it and upends him, sending him crashing onto his back. He’s not an opponent to start kicking shit out of once they’re on the floor and, panting, Porsche starts to say, “That’s enough,” and Kim sweeps his legs around and aims a brutal kick at Porsche’s ankle.

Porsche crashes down to one knee and Kim aims a snap kick at his dominant wrist and steps in with his hands reaching claw-like for Porsche’s throat.

What the fuck, Porsche has time to think, is Kim actually going to try to fucking kill him, and then his vision is going hazy. He gets his fists together, squeezing, and batters them hard up into Kim’s groin. Kim lets go and Porsche drags in a breath, gasping, as Kim staggers back, clutching himself.

He pauses, gathers his strength under himself, and explodes up into a flying kick that catches Kim square on the chest and the base of his throat and sends him across the room.

It’s the last of his energy. He stumbles back and coughs experimentally. His throat is fucking killing him: there’s going to be serious marks. He’s obscurely proud of the vicious little bastard.

He lowers himself gingerly down to a sitting position. On the other side of the room Kim is pulling himself up to one. They watch each other warily.

“Mind if I smoke?” Porsche says.

Kim rolls his eyes and rests his head back against the wall, then levers himself up painfully. He stands for a moment, wavering, and then he comes over to where Porsche is sitting and puts his hand out to pull Porsche up. “On the balcony. Yeah.”

He bums one off Porsche. “Do not get my brother into smoking,” Porsche says.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kim says. “I hardly ever do. It’s bad for the voice.”

They sit in almost-companionable silence for the length of a cigarette. Kim has a nice view. He’s not so far, the Theerapanyakul tower visible from the house, and Porsche thinks again of what he’d taunted the kid with, that this being his is a fiction the family are letting him have even while he gets pulled back in again and again.

“You’re taking Chay to meet your mother?” Kim says, after he’s flicked his end over the balcony.

“Yeah.”

“What’s going on with her, anyway?” Kim says, in a tone just a little too tense to be a throwaway comment; and anyway Porsche already knows he doesn’t exactly do polite small talk.

“I don’t know,” Porsche says, and then, deliberately light, “Uncle Korn doesn’t tell me much.” Out of the corner of his eye he sees Kim look at him, fights not to turn into the suddenly-measuring gaze. “Can I ask you. What went on with yours? The other bodyguards told me she’s dead but they wouldn’t say much more. Kinn never talks about her.”

“It was the same clan that took Khun,” Kim says, and he suddenly sounds very young. “Pa made us view the body, but she was - she was unrecognisable. He crushed them. Too late.”

Porsche offers him another cigarette, hands over the lighter when he takes it. “I figured it would be something like that.”

“This family doesn’t let go easily,” Kim says. He leans forward onto his knees, propping himself up like Porsche’s uncles at the minor family compound.

Porsche sighs and lights another cigarettej for himself. He says, “Learn to.”

***

The Theerapanyakuls aren’t the only ones with legit businesses. Kuhn Wanchai had rung up personally to invite Porsche to the opening of her new casino and it seemed like a good opportunity to test his new bodyguards, handpicked by Arm and Porsche together from the best of the new guys Gear has lured to the minor family through the simple trick of wildly overpaying compared to other clans, on the main family’s credit.

Porsche has dressed them in nice trousers and brightly-coloured but regular shirts, replacing the Hawaiian prints with embroidered phoenixes in contrasting threads on the back right shoulder. It’s a nice effect: individually they’re as inconspicuous in a crowd as the main family bodyguards’ suits, but sauntering behind Porsche all together as he makes his entrance they look like a force, marking his power and status as deliberately as the way Kuhn Wanchai comes to greet him personally, with a glass of champagne and European-style air kisses to each cheek.

“I hope you came ready to lose some money,” she says. Her smile has the beauty of a poisonous flower. She glances across the room pointedly.

Porsche doesn’t follow her gaze. He doesn’t need to: he’d clocked Kinn the second he walked in, moving across the room with two of his own perfectly-suited bodyguards in arm’s length - really his own, Arm has updated Porsche, so Tae’s dad must have tried shaking Kinn down too - and, more upsettingly although Porsche would toss a grenade into this charming gathering before he admitted it, two or three immaculately pretty boys drifting around quite a lot further than two arm’s-lengths but still unmistakably in Kinn’s orbit. He wonders if they’re paid, or have fucked Kinn before, or are simply hopeful: Kinn looks handsome and dangerous and sexy as hell in a red suit just a couple of shades lighter than his usual burgundy, a black shirt beneath it highlighting the bloodiness of the colour against Kinn’s pale skin.

“I’ll do my best,” he says, and flashes a smile, the practised one he used to use at the bar. “As an opening present.”

“Have fun,” she says and moves on to greet her next guests.

Kinn is looking at Porsche: he can feel it with all the weight of Kinn’s body over his in bed, and he has to push down the instinct to show off, to tilt his head just right and put his tongue out to catch the sweat of the cold champagne on his glass in the hot room and run his fingers down the open vee of his deeply unbuttoned shirt.

Porsche is here for more than Kinn, and he’s supposed to be proving he didn’t get this job because Kinn wants him. None of the people he needs to notice him here will appreciate the display.

He hands his half-finished glass off to Main and straightens himself up. He’s careful to keep the wince off his face as he does it: he’s still suffering after the fight with Kim, and the bruises on his throat from being choked were carefully covered with makeup by Yaem before he left the house. Gear told him there’s due to be a politician here who’s been on the minor family payroll for years but rabbited off after the main family attack, whom Porsche needs to bring back into the fold; the rest of the Theerapanyakul council are probably here somewhere and Porsche needs to greet them early to show courtesy; and the drug deals in the casino are Wanchai’s business but as soon as customers step outside they’re on minor family streets and Porsche needs to ensure the right staff here understand that.

He goes to work.

#kinnporsche #kinnporsche fic #my fic #like that through all eternity #spot the moment I grew weary of writing fight scenes!!!

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unicornachos · 1 year

Text

personal post!

hey hi I’m alive sorry for abandoning my blog for like 1.5 yrs??? I had a bunch of health issues and mental health stuff too :’)

Like very full on... god what HASN’T happened.

My body had a weird reaction to the covid vaccines in 2021? I ended up in hospital etc and was sick with mystery fatigue and shit for months and months.... I think I went to hospital like 4-5 throughout 2021? My body seems fine with the MRNA boosters I’ve gotten so maybe something in my body just hated the astrazeneca vaccine?? I’m kinda bitter about it bc of the ambulance bills I had to pay, but still, thank god for vaccines amirite

then, the apartment I was living in and loved got bought by someone who then wanted to move in, so I had to leave the place I loved living to somewhere still nice but way more expenno, and my health issues kinda continued?

then I started a new job

then my mental health got REALLY bad over the 2021/2022 christmas period to the point where I had to call an ambulance for myself bc my mind was in such a bad place.

Then I started taking SSRI’s for depression/anxiety, but I had this weird reaction to the drugs and we think I had serotonin syndrome because of its interaction with the asthma meds I’ve been taking all my life? But at the time no doctors would listen to me and basically gaslit me into thinking all the pain was just a physical manifestation of my anxiety. Anyway, it caused some of the most horrific pain i’ve ever experienced in my life, in particular nerve and muscle pain in my legs, and I had to shower sitting down for weeks, couldn’t walk much around the house, and needed super strong meds to knock me out so I could sleep.

I slowly healed and could walk again and do normal stuff for me around... late April?

While I was recovering I stayed with my mum but still paying rent in Sydney bc all my shit was there, so in June I killed my lease, put most of my shit into storage with a friend’s parent’s mini warehouse they use for their business (absolute legends and wholesome humans and I sent them money every month lol) and moved back home.

I started studying a certificate level course I’d been wanting to get over and done with for ages, so at the end of June I started studying.

Then once again mental health got bad, I tried SSRIs again, thinking it was me who was the problem last time I took them. BUT ACTUALLY, NO. Same physical reaction to the meds as last time, if not worse. It wasn’t my brain making shit up, it was an actual fucking drug interaction issue that ppl had tried to tell me was my anxiety and/or imagination!!! Queue horrific pain, weird symptoms, and once again the inability to walk or clean or work from anywhere but the couch.

Dr and I decided any meds that effect my serotonin levels are a no-go probably forever, and so I’ve been looking into CBD oil over the past few months to see if that will work for things instead.

Now I’m about... 2 months from that reaction, and started CBD oil 2 weeks ago (no reaction, side effects, or really anything yet) and can work at my desk as long as I have a big ass XL foot rest under my legs to keep them propped up, because I get nerve pain if I sit normally :’) I still can’t really go anywhere or walk anywhere other than around the house and for super short periods of time.

Also I powered through and finished my course just last week, so that’s out of the way at least!

Other than that, I’ve just been like. Sleeping, reading, watching shows, napping, sleeping more, trying to eat well.... my job is a bitch but I’m trying rly hard to skill up so I can do more of what I’m interested in! I kind of don’t have energy for much else at the moment??

I have no idea if I’ll post again as regularly as I did a few years back, but I love Tumblr and I always feel glad coming back here and spending time in this place for a bit. These days I mainly only post stuff on my locked private twitter lol. But I have always preferred Tumblr’s longer format and vibes hehe.

ANyway that’s all for now! I hope anyone reading this has been doing ok. These past few years have been fucking tough and if all you have energy for is working and sleeping... you’re valid, dude.

And if you plan to take SSRIs for your mental health, just be wary of serotonin syndrome!!!! Not enough ppl talk about it and a lot of doctors seem to have no idea it exists or also know little about it, but there are lots of cases of it in settings where ppl have been taking other meds and been given SSRIs! I’m not saying don’t take meds if you need them, but just reaaaallllyyy do your research first if you can about adverse reactions and interactions :’)

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butwhyduh · 3 years

Text

Night Swim

Garth of Shayeris/Tempest x batsis!reader

Summary: pinning over him. I know like 7 people will read it but he’s too cute. Canon has no home here and timelines don’t matter.

Warning: dash of innuendos.

The apprentice of a justice league member that went on his own. That could describe almost all of your brothers but it also described the beautiful man standing before you. That currently didn’t even notice you were staring at him puppy dog eyed.

“So, are you ever going to do anything about it or just stare at him until he jumps back in the sea again,” Kori said beside you. You jumped and gave her a look. “Noise cancelling glass. He can’t hear us and no one is looking over here,” she reassured you.

“That obvious,” you asked turning to face her. She nodded with a little smile. Of course she thought it was cute. She had told Dick the first time she knew she was attracted to him. That’s how she was raised. No fear of rejection or shame in sexual attraction. You were raised by batman and had a healthy dose of both.

“There’s not like it would do any good. He’s never given me a second thought and I don’t even think he likes surface walkers anyways,” you deflected. She snorted.

“He dated Donna.”

“That shouldn’t count. She’s Themyscirian. They’re like perfect,” you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t know. I find Dick very appealing and he is human. Is his powers what attracts you to him?” She asked leaning on a desk. Her long curly red hair flowed over her shoulder in a way that only Kori could.

“No, of course not. I mean, they’re cool for sure. But it’s.. he’s nice and honorable and funny,” you said and she grinned almost proudly.

“And you can be nice and honorable and funny without any meta powers. Don’t put yourself down. And if you need help..” she started.

“No no no. No wing woman,” you said quickly.

“What do you need a wing woman for?” Dick asked behind you. Your eyes widened before you turned around.

“Nothing. Just some guy from college. That I don’t like,” you said in possibly the worst lie of your life. Dick narrowed his eyes at you.

“I can tell you’re lying but if I don’t know the truth, I can’t lie to Bruce about what you’re doing so don’t tell me,” Dick said. Wally, Donna, and Garth walked in the room.

“Wait, did I hear that Nightwing’s little sister is seeing someone? Is he ready to die,” Wally laughed clapping Dick on the shoulder.

“I’m not having this conversation,” you squeaked out before squeezing between the heroes, feeling yourself far too close to Garth for just a moment. Thank goodness M’gann wasn’t there to read your thoughts or feelings. Kori stayed mum on the subject and concentrated on the mission that Dick was prepping the team for.

You didn’t go on missions now. An injury that put an end to that. You just couldn’t maintain the level a vigilante needed. Sometimes you’d help with the computers but mainly you worked at Wayne Enterprise with Tim. You were just visiting on this trip and wasn’t involved in the mission.

“Wish us luck,” Kori said giving you a hug. You couldn’t help but watch Garth in his new blue suit that fit perfectly as the rest of the team walked by.

“Woah,” you said barely above silent but Kori hugging you caught it all and giggled quietly. You flushed and tried to stutter out some excuse.

“He is very handsome. Wish him luck,” she whispered in your ear. You made a little noise to disagree and she simply grinned at you while walking away.

“What was that,” Dick asked, suspicious.

“Nothing, just a joke. Good luck. Be safe,” you said to him and Dick didn’t argue but definitely didn’t believe you before joining his team.

As they left, your mind wandered to the first time you met Garth. It was a mission in a warehouse fire that had homeless people camping out on the second story. You walked carefully to the back office through dense fog with flames threatening any moment to see if there was anyone in there. The fire was getting really close and it was kinda dicey. But it was your first job away from Gotham and you were 14 and you felt the need to prove yourself.

You entered the room bent low with smoke overhead. You saw something move in the back of the room and you made your way towards it. But just as you crossed to the back half of the room, part of the ceiling collapsed, trapping you in the room and knocking you to the floor. You jumped back against the wall. There wasn’t a window and the movement? A toy.

You shrank against the wall and pushed your panic button. The fire was hot and you cursed wearing shorts. “Shit,” you breathed as it started moving closer. The air was starting to get thick. The flames jumped and you pressed against the wall with your eyes covered, expecting flames to hit you.

But instead you felt cool wet air and you opened your eyes to see water surrounding you. It appeared to float in air and you reached a hand out to touch it, confused. As soon as you felt the tips of your fingers dampened, the water crashed to the floor causing you to jump.

In there place was a teenage boy only a few years older than you, grinning. You stared at him in silence. He had just saved your life.

“Did you- how did you-“ you stuttered and his smile grew even wider.

“Aqualad, at your service. You wanna leave before it crashes on us?” He said and you took a step to wince in pain. Oh yeah, when you jumped you twisted your ankle. Your plan, like all the other bats, was to suck it up and hobble out. But Garth had other plans and he quickly scooped you up bridal style as soon as he noticed you couldn’t walk.

“Just hold on. I’ll carry you,” he said walked down the charred stairs carefully. You couldn’t take your eyes off his handsome face the whole time. Your heart pounded and your lack of experience with dating or liking anyone had you completely dumbfounded. “You can let go,” he said with a little smile.

You were out of the warehouse clinging to him past the time necessary and quickly moved away from him, feeling your skin flush. Dick gave you a look over before give Garth with a look you couldn’t recognize.

——————————————

“She’s catatonic, Bro.”

“Feed her something.”

“Wally, food isn’t always the answer,” Dick said giving your shoulder a shake. You jumped and knocked over a glass of water.

“Sorry!” You yelped reaching over to grab a towel.

“I’ve got it,” Garth said and with a flick of his wrist the water started to pour in the sink rather than off the counter. As you watched the water jumped before flowing down the drain. You laughed a little and looked up to see Garth grinning at you. Dick stared suspiciously at you both before being pulled somewhere by another Titan.

“So was the mission okay?” You asked, not knowing what to say. Your crush was more ‘stare across the room’ rather than do anything about it.

“It went well,” he answered grabbing a water bottle and chugging it. You tried not to stare.

“Cool suit,” you said and immediately felt stupid. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Thanks,” he said without adding anything else, leaving an awkward air to hang.

“Damn, you might be from the sea but are soo dry, Garth,” Roy said clapping him on the back on his way to his room. Garth looked at you confused.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve been land side. Is being dry an insult now?” He asked.

“I mean, kinda. It just means boring,” you answered with a shrug. “You know Roy.”

“But you are dry. I mean, you live on land. Not that you’re boring,” he said with an awkward laugh. You smiled back at him before taking a sip of your drink nervously. “Does that mean you want to be wet?”

You coughed as you choked on the liquid. He tapped you on the back. “You okay?” He asked concerned. Donna walked by with a raised eyebrow but said nothing.

“I’m fine. No, that’s not how that works. It’s just we aren’t really dry. We’re like 80 percent water. Dry means like sand or something. Too dry,” you said and he nodded humoring you.

“It seems pretty dry here,” he said playfully.

“I can knock over more glasses. Get this place all wet again,” you quipped.

“Tempting. Or you can go swimming with me,” he answered back.

“Haha or I could- what? It’s nighttime,” you answered. “And doesn’t that do something to the currents or something?”

He gave you a dry look. “The currents come in at night? Yep. You’d be the safest person in the water swimming with me. I could navigate night swimming as a squirt. Come with?” Garth asked.

“I-“ you stared before mumbling.

“You what? I didn’t hear the last part,” he said.

“I... can’t swim,” you said and he stared at you and you felt like sliding under the counter and through the floor. Then Garth’s lips curled into a smile and he laughed a little. You looked down awkwardly.

“Oh you’re serious?”

“Yeah...”

“I’m sorry. I forget that swimming is learned skill here. I apologize,” he started.

“It’s okay. Really,” you insisted.

“Come with me. We’ll stay shallow,” he offered. You looked at him before nodding.

“This is a bad idea but let’s go,” you said pulling him along. Garth laughed as you pulled him out the back door towards the beach. “I forgot a bathing suit,” you admitted.

“I guess you could go insi-“ he trailed off as you pulled your shirt off and shorts to swim in your underwear and bra. He quickly looked away as you ran in the water to your waist.

“Coming in? Can’t believe I have to ask, merman” you said and he pulled off his shirt to quickly join you. You splashed him with water which quickly turned into a splashing war.

“Okay, you win!” You yelped as he bombarded you with water. He splashed you one last time and you turned away. Garth grabbed you by the waist as a wave splashed over you. You simply watched each other for a moment. You noticed your feet didn’t touch the ground anymore. You clung to him.

“I can’t touch,” you said a little panicky. He held on to you.

“Don’t worry. I’m right here. I won’t let you drown. It’s my job, remember?” Garth smiled. “Look around. Look at the moon.”

You looked up to see the luminous globe hanging above the sea. It lit a silvery path through the water, highlighting waves crashing. The beach seemed far away. The only sounds were the sea and a few night birds as well as Garth’s breath from being so close. You looked back at him and almost froze. He was gorgeous. The water truly was his element. His dark hair curled in the water and the moon glow highlighted his nose and collarbones. His purple eyes looked almost black in the darkness but the way he looked at you said a ton.

He looked down at your lips and you couldn’t help but lick them, tasting salt water. Garth bent a little and you turned your head up to touch lips softly. His arms wrapped closer around you as you kissed. Garth easily kept you above the water. Your brain was broken. You were kissing Garth, who you’ve had a crush on for a long time.

Suddenly water splashed over your head as a wave crashed on you both. You leaned away with a cough as water invaded your mouth and nose. Your eyes stung and watered a little.

“Sorry, I forgot to pay attention,” Garth admitted sheepishly.

“It’s okay,” you said with only a little cough. “Can we?”

“Get you on land? Yeah. You’re getting cold anyways,” Garth said before swimming towards the shore. It wasn’t a rough choppy swim the way people did. He seemed to simply glide through the water gracefully. So beautifully. Which was broken when he fell over on the beach.

“You’re the most graceful swimmer and trip on your feet when you hit ground,” you said with a laugh as you attempted to help him up. He was far too heavy to lift but appreciated the effort.

“Atlantean,” he shrugged. “Don’t make fun of me too much. You can’t even swim.”

“Yeah? You wanna take a dip in Gotham Harbor?” You asked and he laughed.

“Absolutely not. I don’t want to get some unknown cancer from whatever pollution they have. Or whatever rouge is living there,” he added.

“That’s why I can’t swim,” you answered. It really was cool in the wind and you quickly pulled on your clothing.

“But doesn’t batman have like multiple pools?”

“Yeah but I never used them. I was 15 when he took me in. Too old to learn,” you shrugged.

“You’re never to old to learn to swim. It’s important for safety,” Garth said. “Especially here,” he motioned at the beach.

“Especially if I keep kissing Tempest in the water?” You quipped.

“That’s just a bonus,” he said pulling you close by the hips. You grinned up at him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

And a spotlight shined glaringly at you both. You covered your eyes and looked away.

“Come inside,” boomed the voice of your brother. “Now.”

And that’s how you got a 20 minute lectures on the danger of night swimming and risk of hypothermia and Garth got the shovel talk. But despite the fact that Dick was really angry, you didn’t regret a thing and went to bed with wet hair and smile on your face.

#Garth of Shayeris #Garth DC #Garth of shayeris x reader #Garth of shayeris x batsis!reader #batsis!reader #aqualad x reader #tempest x reader #tempest x batsis!reader #dick Grayson is a big brother #Titans tower is on the beach #it’s pretty perfect

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creepling · 3 years

Text

am i not enough? (quackity x reader) - apocalypse!AU

( 。・_・。)人(。・_・。 ) | part of the @quackisinnit 1k event !

THE PROMPT IS . . . “ AM I NOT ENOUGH ? “

pairing: irl!quackity x genderneutral!reader (apocalypse!AU)

word count: 3,306

summary: the reader and alex become a duo while coming across each others paths during a zombie apocalypse. tensions rise as they set up camp in a warehouse, where alex begins to confess how he feels towards the reader. (angst into fluff <33)

tw: zombie apocalypse, blood (ment), cursing, guns, death, eating.

It had been three months since the fallen of mundane life. Three months of complete abnormality, everything known to be in existence that was worth caring about; completely gone. jobs, currency, education were becoming a historic relic. The world was put back to zero. Instead of cavemen and dinosaurs, the new species of flesh-eating corpse’s roamed in packs and seeked for fresh meat. They may have been slow, but they travelled in numbers and they could smell you from a mile away. I learned that your scent became less of a problem when you didn’t keep hygenic. My stence blended with the earth and blood and the roamers didn’t catch us out as much; so we used that to our advantage.

I only had one companion, his name was Alex. He was absolutely dumbfounded when I discovered him. I raided his abandoned home looking for supplies, and when I had to kill a roamer that vacaded in his bedroom; I found him curled up in a ball under his bed. He told me that he had been hiding the whole month when he realised help was to never come; so his only plan was to hide out until he ran out of supplies. That became a problem when I attempted to take them. We made the mutual agreement that if I was to take the supplies, he would come with me. I refused to stay and hide; that is how you get yourself killed. Thankfully he agreed to come with me, and we have been inseperable ever since. However, our bond is nothing close to a friendship, we just had to stick together to survive.

Alex’s main idea was to find a group, hoping by now someone had turned one of the surbubans into a mini civilization. We had travelled between three cities however and we found no sign of good company. As a duo, we have only killed one human within these three months. A man who tried to kill us at gunpoint in hopes of taking our things, to which we scarsely saved our lives by ducking behind a bar table. With one aimless shoot, I shot my gun and it pierced through the man’s chest. I saved our lives, but the sight of the man’s lifeless eyes still haunts me in my sleep.

One night, Alex found a two-store warehouse to shelter in while on a supply run. He suggested we camp on the second floor and catch up on our sleep and starvation, since we eventually got ahold of sleeping bags and tinned food. I agreed, but reminded him the stay can’t be perminant. He agreed also, still fixated on the idea of finding a commune.

While I made a fire and cooked food, I obvserved Alex drawing in a notepad. I failed to make out what he was doing so I asked, “What are you drawing?”

“I’m trying to draw a map.” He said to me, “It’s not accurate, but it will give us a rough idea of the roads until we find a map.”

“I didn’t take you as a smart person.” I said, hoping he didn’t think I meant it seriously. It was rare for me to joke in times like these, but when I did, my humour came off dry. Thankfully, my comment made Alex scoff out a chuckle.

“And I didn’t take you for a fighter.” Alex said. Since being with each other for two months, we both naturally adopted different roles that benefitted us. Alex was the navigator, the finder; he seemed to have a good sense of direction and I relied on him to not get lost. He also had a good eye and was always good at finding things such as second-way exits or food hiding in obscure places. For me, my job was a lot more physical. I was a good shoot, I knew how to make a fireplace, or bandage a wound. When things got dirty, I would get lucky and save our asses.

“Your food’s ready.” I said, handing him his warm can of chicken soup and a packet of chips. He thanked me, putting his notebook down and sitting cross-legged beside me. As we ate we sat in silence, the only sounds in the warehouse being our mouths chewing the food. We hadn’t ate in nearly a week. I tried my best to chew my chips before swallowing so I didn’t end up with stomache pain, but the instant flavour shot through my tongue and I instinctly ate them quickly. Alex finished his food within minutes, licking the chip packet and his fingers; scraping every last bit of soup from the can and into his mouth. I reluctantly did the same, feeling a little embarrassed; I have never felt so starved in my life.

“That was fucking amazing.” Alex sighed out, now heating his hands over the fire. I nodded in agreement, collecting the empty tin cans and keeping them next to our things. They will be handy for traps, tying them with strings and hanging them in the woods while hunting would let us know of intruders. It was the small things like that that has made us survive this long.

“Are you gonna go to sleep now? I could keep watch.” I offered, observing Alex’s bloodshot eyes. If we had mirrors, we would flinch at our reflections. Alex looked rough. He always wore his beanie, which he apparently did even before things got bad. He always had a collective spot of dirt on his nose and cheekbones no matter how clean we were, it’s where it always collected the most. His hands were the most dirty, dirt under his short nails and inbetween his fingers. From the rare occasions we touched hands, I felt the softness of his hands, compared to mine that felt aged and rough. His knuckles were stained with blood. Out of both of us, I was covered in the most blood. When I looked down, my hands had a reddish tint, observing more I could see small cuts on my hands from being idle with my knife when striking roamer’s heads. Without having to see, I knew I had sprays of blood on my face from the amount of times I killed roamers. To think when life was normal we cared so much about our appearence, but now activities like doing makeup, brushing your hair, brushing your teeth seemed so pointless. We were slowly becoming used to primitive life and deep down that scared me. I think it scared Alex too.

“I’m tired as fuck, but I know I won’t sleep.” Alex said in a low tone, looking at his hands full of shame. I nodded my head in understanding, knowing exactly how he was feeling. We hadn’t slept properly in months, instead when one person kept watch, the other just lay down with their eyes closed. We forgot what it was like to dream, or to feel hazy. We were constantly alert.

“Since we have no intention of sleeping. Why don’t we play a game?” Alex said. I cocked my eyebrow up in question. What game could we play that didn’t involve making noise and attracting attention?

“We ask each other 20 questions. Normally if you don’t want to answer a question- you would have to do a dare. But hey, wants the point in hiding nowadays?” Alex said, looking at me contently.

“We should be hiding ourselves more than ever, I think.” I said, adding fuel to the fire to keep it burning. “That way no one knows our weaknesses.”

“So you don’t trust me?” Alex said. His question threw me off. It’s not that I didn’t trust him, but maybe I was unwilling to get to know him. I had already lost the people close to me, and I was still in grieving. I was too afraid to get close with Alex. I always had the thought in the back of my head that one day, I might end up losing him. His intelligence may only get him so far.

“I understand.” Alex said, taking back his question. Seeing the hurt in my eyes, he must have realized what I was thinking. He lost his close ones too. We both lost so much, we had a mutual understanding about that. Yet, I looked at Alex, and he still felt like a mystery to me. He always pulled out jokes, even in times like these. However, in moments when he thought I wasn’t looking, I could see the pain concealed in his face. Sometimes I even heard him cry at night when he thought I was sleeping. Maybe it was about time we opened up to each other, instead of feeling like we need to suffer alone. We could be there for each other not just physically, but emotionally.

“Okay then, since it was your idea, you ask the first question.” I said, hugging my legs to my chest. Alex smiled a little at me, going into thought as he tried to think of a question.

“So, what did you do when life was normal?” He asked first.

I let out a sigh then replied, “I had a very normal life. Lived with my family, did average in school, worked a job to get money. I actually had plans of moving out to the city, I always wanted to go to LA. I never really had aspirations, just wanted to be content.” It sounded boring, but I was happy with my life. I had my ups and downs like everyone else. “What were you like?”

Alex smirked and looked away from me, seeming to become bashful. “I was a twitch streamer.” He said. “And had a Youtube channel. God- it sounds so stupid now that I say it. Like it was all pointless-”

“Were you like- famous?” I asked, trying to conceal a smile.

“Um- I guess you could say that. I had millions of followers.” Alex shook his head, “But I also went to college. I was studying law. I was always staying up late, barely sleeping; both studying and streaming all the time. It took up my whole life, that I just kinda forgot about everything else.”

“Well, you were obviously not famous, because I didn’t know who you were.” I jokingly said, nudging his side. That seemed to make him smile and feel less embarassed.

“So how the hell did you learn how to shoot if you lived such a normal life?” He asked.

“I just learned while doing it. My dad kept a gun.” I admitted, looking at the very same gun I had in the holster wrapped around my thigh. “He would teach me now and then how to use it, but I was never a shooter. The more roamers I shot, the more I got used to it.” Thinking about someone close to me made me chew the inside of my cheek anxiously.

To deflate my melancholy, I asked the next question. “Did you always wear that stupid hat?”

Alex chuckled and rubbed the top of his hat. “Yeah, twenty-four seven. I don’t why, I just find it comfortable. My “fans” would joke that I was bald because I never showed my hair.” He said, “God- saying the word fans sounds fucked up . . .”

“Maybe you’ll bump into one of them.” I said, “Heck- maybe there’s a commune right now dedicated to you, trying to find you and keep you safe.”

Alex laughed again, covering his face with his hands. I laughed alongside him, the first time I genuinely laughed in a good few weeks. Looking at Alex, seeing how I uplifted him, it struck a chord with me. As much as I didn’t like to show it, but he made affects on me that were indescribable. He made me feel just a little more contempt, without him I would probably not be able to cope for this long. We eventually locked eyes with each other, Alex’s gaze being longer than I expected. If it wasn’t for the blood, my face would have exposed the blush forming on my cheeks.

“Have you ever fell in love, (Y/N)?” Alex then asked me, which set me aback. The question was out the blew and I think Alex realised that as he looked away shyly, his gaze fixated on the flames of the fire to avoid my gaze. I still stared at him, almost in amazment, trying to conjuct a reasonable answer.

“I don’t know.” I answered. “I have loved people, yes, but- I don’t think I have been in love. You’re suppose to know when things like that happen, right?”

Alex didn’t answer me, he kept staring at the fire. I found myself admiring his side profile, watching how he slowly bit his lip; concealed in thought. I noticed how the glow of the flames contrasted with the darkness of his eyes, how the light outlined his complexion. When I realized I was staring for too long, I looked away, instead my eyes looked out the warehouse window, my eyes tracing the stars in the night sky.

“I feel like I have known you forever.” Alex admitted all at once. “It’s only been two months, but I have gotten close to you more than anyone I have in my whole life. It might sound crazy but- I believe we were suppose to come together that day.”

My gaze turned back to Alex when I felt his eyes lay upon me. His stare was soft, something I only seen in passing times. I was able to admire him for the first time since we met. In this moment, in the dead of night, away from danger and suspicion; I could look at him with full sentiment. I didn’t need to admire him when he was less suspecting it, afraid of receiving decline or making things awkward. In this moment I realized, I may have developed feelings more than companionship towards him. That excited me. But also terrified me.

“I feel that way with you, Alex.” I admitted, “But . . .”

I decided to choose my words carefully. This conversation was heading in a direction that made me nervous. The world is falling apart around us, and I couldn’t help but question our motives. We should be focusing on survival, not developing a relationship that could be destroyed at any second. Once we step out this warehouse, our chances of losing our lives become high. I wasn’t prepared to damage my mental state, it was already bad enough. I realized my long pause was making Alex shift nervously, so I looked at him in hopes my words would slip from my mouth.

I caved in, muttering lowly, “We should get some rest.” I got up on my feet and was ready to grab my sleeping bag and make up a place to rest, until I heard Alex get his his feet and say words that made my heart sink.

“Am I not enough?”

When I turned to look at him, the hurt was glistening in his eyes. He gulped dryly and he fumbled with his fingers. My eyes shifted from side to side as I was stuck with my words. I kept stammering, and I rubbed my face in stress, ready to plead my case. Until Alex jumped in.

“Don’t think I’m only saying these things to you because there is no one else, (Y/N). I have been thinking about this for a while, everytime I am left with my thoughts. I am certain I will still have the same feelings if we met when things didn’t go to shit. I don’t just think this because we have been the only people for each other. I really really like you, (Y/N). And because of the way the world is, I never want to lose you. I never want you to feel alone ever again. I not only want to protect you because we’re a team, I want to protect you because the thought of losing you pains me so much.”

For a split second I thought Alex was about to burst into tears. That was when I did something I thought I would never do again, which was pull him into my embrace. I hugged Alex so tight that I heard him gasp, freeze, until he eventually wrapped his arms around me and held me just as tight. My face buried into the crook of his neck, feeling the warmth of his body, his soft hands caressing my back and brushing his thumb down my spine in a soothing manner.

“You are enough, Alex.” I said, my words muffled by his body. I reached my lips to his ear so he could hear my words clearly. “I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to like me, or be forced to like me just because we were brought together. I was afraid you thought you were stuck with me.”

I anticipated the day that once we meet other life, Alex would slowly fade away and forget who I was. Once he meets other people, we would go our seperate ways. I never knew why the hypothetical idea pained me so much, until now. As Alex pulled away from my embrace, looking me in the eyes in a loving manner that was foreign to me, his hands on my shoulders, I realized why that idea made my heart feel heavy. I never want him to leave me, I want him to always be by my side. Alex’s gaze was enough proof that he wanted the same.

Stimulated by his touch, I was taken aback when I felt his hand cup my cheek. The warmth of his breath breezing against my cheek, I inhaled as if oxygene was nonexistent. I never realized the proximity between us was slowly closing in and when I did my eyes fluttered shut. Alex hesitated for a split second before pressing his soft lips against my own. My neck bent slightly backwards and I shifted my head to the side to deepen into our kiss, my blood-stained hands grabbing the edges of his open jacket and holding him dearly close. The heat of the kiss intermingled with the heat from the fire, my cheeks and ears grew hot. Alex’s hands were surprisingly warm as he reached his hands under my shirt, pressing his fingers and palms on the middle of my back before running his touch down my spine. My breath became shaky and I felt my legs grow heavy under me, my hands cupped the back of his neck to keep myself uplifted, and luckily Alex’s arms held my weight and pressed my body against his. It felt like hours had went by between our lips moving in sync, our tongues grazing our bottom lip’s, our hands moving and resting on different parts of our bodies. His touch felt contagious, his kisses ranging between soft and passionate. I didn’t want to stop, I never wanted to let go. Between kisses I would mutter you are enough, you are enough which made Alex smile against my lips.

That night, everything we had to worry about became last priority. The focus all throughout was each other, making up for the days where affection couldn’t be shown. In the dead of night, there wasn’t a roamer in sight. Instead of hearing narls and groans or screams of pain, there was only the faint sounds of nature. The full moon glistened, as if to be a prediction for the emotions spilling between us. I promised myself from this moment on, as I admired Alex, I would protect him no matter what. I will make sure he always feels safe as long as he is beside me. He will always be enough, if not more.

TAGLIST: @momo-has-a-gun @diggorysmalfoy @quack42069 (join my taglist)

#quackity x reader #irl!quackity x reader #quackity x you #quackity x y/n #gender neutral reader #quackity x gn!reader #quackity imagine #quackity fanfic #mcyt fanfic #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #youtuber imagine #quackity angst #quackity fluff #apocalypse!AU #mcyt apocalypse au #quackity apocalypse au

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another-cancer · 3 years

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Chapter Eight: What's a period?

First Previous Next

Masterlist ao3

Summary:

Trouble is brewing back at the order as Marinette learns some awkward information in Gotham.

Notes:

Back from hiatus!

Welcome back friends, with a revised outline I can finally confirm the story to be sixteen chapters! This story has grown a lot from the original Maribat march outline that started it all. Thanks for joining me as we continue this journey.

Updates will be back to the regularly scheduled Tuesdays.

This can also be found on AO3 @another_cancer and Wattpad @another_cAnCeR

Enjoy!

///

Stealing was almost second nature to Marinette. After leaving the order, burglary became her way to survive. With her skill set, it was easy. After all, all, once you kill people to survive there isn’t much that is considered challenging within the realm of crime. It was an outlet for the violent side she developed with the order. One that didn’t cause any real harm. She stole from the rich. They weren’t missing any of it anyway, and half the time that didn’t even notice.

She typically pawned the items off to the strangest people and never to the same one. While she may be dead as Ladybug, Marinette has contacts all over the world. Under false names of course. She was extremely paranoid. The girl could rival Batman in paranoia.

On one particular heist, she had a run-in with another thief. However, she wasn’t quite concerned about her surprise partner when Catwoman was standing in front of her.

“Hello,” Catwoman said with curiosity.

Marinette just stared.

“Quiet, huh, well either way that bag looks pretty full, hope you won’t mind if I take from this place too.”

Catwomen took jewels, that was a lot more noticeable than the stuff Marinette took. It would leave a trail. A trail Marinette didn’t need to be connected to her.

“Please don’t take anything noticeable,” Marinette mumbled.

“What was that kitten?”

She repeated slightly louder, “Please don’t take anything noticeable.”

“But what would be the point of stealing unless to piss off the rich people who live here?” Catwoman asked with a grin, “Unless you’re taking for your own personal gain.”

Mental note: Catwoman didn’t like people stealing for their own gain. Marinette wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

“I have kids relying on me, I can’t let this shit trace back to me,” Marinette carefully explained.

Catwoman examined Marinette. Truly taking the girl in by slowly scanning her body. She noticed the slightly raggy clothing she wore. Marinette didn’t wear a mask which made her look like a bit of an amateur to Catwoman. However, when the woman arrived at the house earlier no alarms had been triggered suggesting the girl did a good job sneaking into the house. It was risky, the girl clearly wasn’t new to this.

“You live on the streets,” Catwoman said.

It wasn’t a question, just a simple statement.

She continued, “You’ve stolen before. And you aren’t native to Gotham.”

All statements.

“Correct,” Marinette simply offered in return.

“Fine, let's get out of here and you can explain more to me,” Catwoman said as she headed the way she entered.

Marinette followed. She wasn’t quite sure why, but it felt like the right thing to do. On the other hand, Marinette was confused by the fact the notorious thief ended up taking nothing, had the woman really been so easily convinced by her.

///

B a c k i n T i b e t

“Masters,” a teenager greeted as they were welcomed into the elders' chamber.

“[REDACTED] you have been called upon by the gods, we hope you will accept the honor and visit them. They will give you a mission that you shall complete.”

Once again the unspoken words being: if you don’t do it you die.

“Thank you, I will visit them immediately.”

No one was ever called upon by the gods. At least no one is normal. In [REDACTED]’s lifetime, they could only remember one person who ever got the chance to meet them. Ladybug. And now Ladybug is dead. [REDACTED] assumed they were becoming the new golden child. Oh, how wrong could they ever be.

///

B a c k to G o t h a m

They were in a warehouse, mostly abandoned. It would be a good place to kill someone. But Catwoman wasn’t going to kill her and Marinette gave up that lifestyle a long time ago. In conclusion, no one was going to be killed, but Marinette’s paranoid brain kept reminding her this would be a good place to kill someone.

“How long have you been stealing?” Catwoman asked seemingly out of nowhere.

Against her better judgment, Marinette replied, “When I was nine.”

“You’re a runaway.”

“Technically an orphan, but runaway also works.”

“You're not even from around here, god the whole system is broken if kids not from Gotham are running away to Gotham,” Catwoman muttered.

“I’m not a kid,” Marinette corrected.

“You look ten, you’re a kid, who is looking after other kids, god that makes it so much worse.”

“I’m sixteen,” Marinette lied, she wasn’t going to give the woman her actual age.

“I wasn’t born yesterday, you’ve barely hit puberty, kid have you even gotten your period yet?”

“My what?”

Shit. She did not mean to ask that out loud.

Catwoman didn’t expect that. Fuck how was she supposed to explain puberty and periods to this girl?

She decided bluntly, “It’s when you bleed from your vagina.”

“That’s natural? I thought-”

It had never been explained to Marinette in the past. She thought something was wrong with her, but then it stopped. It had only happened twice so far, and the bleeding was always fairly light.

“Kid I think it’s time you had a talk.”

Catwoman gave a basic rundown on periods and puberty, she even pulled out some pads and tampons she had stored in the warehouse. By the end, Marinette had a bag filled with period products and a new talk to give some of the street kids.

“I never caught your name,” Catwoman said.

What the hell she had already told the vigilantes mine as well tell the rogues too. It’s not like they would be able to find anything on someone who doesn’t exist.

“Marinette.”

“You’re a good thief Marinette,” she complimented.

“Thank you.”

“I’ve been considering taking in an apprentice lately, you know, try and imitate the bat a bit. And you're the girl who keeps picking fights with Scarecrow right?”

How the hell did she know that. Never mind, it didn’t matter, Marinette had to turn down the offer anyway. She worked alone and wasn’t interested in being a sidekick.

“I won’t be your sidekick, I have things of my own to worry about.”

“Aw too bad, I was really hoping you’d say yes, show that Bat he’s not the only one who can have a bunch of kids following him around, but I get it you gotta keep yourself safe and those kids you said you look after. Good luck!”

And with that, she was sent on her way. What a strange day.

///

B a c k i n T i b e t a g a i n

“Tikki, are you sure about this?” Trixx asked.

“I am sure,” they replied, hushing the other god, “Lila Rossi please approach.”

The teenager kneeled.

“Lila Rossi, you have been called in front of the god due to your mastering of illusions. My chosen Ladybug has managed to gain balance in her soul. Ladybug now holds destruction that rivals creation. You will retrieve her from Gotham City and return with her alive. Do what it takes as long as she lives.”

Lila was stunned.

“But Ladybug is dead.”

“You humans are fools, she never died, I allowed her to roam without informing anyone to see if any of you incompetent fools would notice. However, she has gotten too powerful recently,” Tikki explained.

“I understand,” she stuttered.

Trixx moved to the front of the room, “From this day on you will leave behind the name Lila, and you will become Volpina.”

There was a bright light and then darkness. Volpina was outside the chamber.

“Lila,” an elder started.

“Volpina.”

There was an understanding, the elders bowed down to her, and Volpina’s mission started.

///

“I really don’t like this sugar cube.”

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion on my chosen, Plagg,” Tikki sniped back.

///

Notes:

Next week: Marinette has a couple of stalkers and a backstory that goes further back than she remembers.

#living among the regular people of the world trying to blend in #damienette #ml #maribat #enemies to lovers #ml x dc #dc x mlb

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mikiib · 3 years

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The Magnus Archives: ALIEN AU (Part 1)

So in short I had come up with an AU where the cast of TMA characters are set in the universe of ALIEN. They’re both my FAVORITE pieces of horror media I’ve consumed and so my brain figured- WHY NOT? So I have 13 pages and scenes in my brain that would take place in this AU. If this or the following posts that I’ll make inspire anyone I would LOVE to see what you come up with! In short this story has a mostly good ending.

Here’s a list of the things that ARE and AREN’T in this universe.

- 14 Fears aren’t in this world. It’s fully immersed in the universe of the movie ALIEN/ALIENS. - The xenomorphs however have more powers- they can shape shift into anyone they ‘kill’. So if the alien hatches from the host but somehow the host survives then that creature can pretend to be that person. If they kill someone they can pretend to be them. They still however take the main biological forms of the hosts they came from in regular form. - Queens are born when there is no other queen in near vicinity detected by the unhatched egg. - The hatching of an egg takes a lot longer after implantation rather than a few hours like the original movie. - The aliens acidic blood is still STRONG but not nearly as much. I nerfed that to a slower burn- if left on the surface for more than a few minutes it can still be JUST AS BAD as the movies version. - Cyborgs are a thing in this world- who is and isn’t a cyborg is up in the air- however you’ll find out if you follow the posts. - The aliens are weak to extreme heat and extreme cold. The younger they are the more vulnerable to both. Fire extinguishers and flamethrowers will be a big weapon in both firepower and as a melee weapons. - The technology is slightly more up to date compared to ALIEN’s 80′s tech, as there are in short video calls that can be held. -Mother (MU-TH-UR 4900) is the ships computer mainframe, and can connect directly to Elias with his acceptance of the transmission. Mother also monitors the crew and their vitals when they are under cyosleep. - They can quit. No bindings to ‘The Eye’ here.

ARTIFACT RETRIEVAL VEHICLE: THE COEUS CREW: SEVEN

Captain and Scrivener (Archivist): Jonathan Sims (Age: 31)

Executive Officer: Sasha James (Age: 35)

Warrant Officer: Georgie Barker (Age: 29)

Navigator: Melanie King (Age: 27)

Engineers: Tim Stocker (Age 33) & Martin Blackwood (Age: 27)

Science Officer: Nikola Orsinov (Age: 30)

CARGO: OTHER WORLDLY ARTIFACTS UNDER STUDY COURSE: SCIENCE AND TECHNOLOGY MOON BASE: THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES

-Everyone shares the role of being a Scribal (Archival) Assistants to Jon- no exceptions. -The Magnus Archives is a space station on the Moon orbiting Earth. -The cargo they carry is found from the ships that collect samples from uninhabited planets as well as statements from those who report to them their findings to investigate. -The Admiral is the ships designated therapy cat to help the crew cope with isolation brought on by Georgie. -Elias Bouchard is the head of The Magnus Archives.

STORYLINE:

The story starts after they’ve collected the last of the artifacts required on the list to retrieve. They’ve been in cryosleep for over 6 months and only need 3 more months of it till they’d arrive to their destination. Everyone wakes up on their own time, Georgie first, along with Melanie and Martin. Followed by Tim, Sasha, Jon, and Nikola, they gather at the dining table of the living quarters. Martin makes everyone their preferred meals, seemingly the most nervous. This has been Martins first time aboard THE COEUS, and his banter with Sasha and Tim prove while not the best at his job there, he makes a mean meal out of the ‘rubbish space food’ provided. Melanie comes back after taking a look at their current location frowning, letting the others know they aren’t even close to Earth yet- not even in their solar system anymore. In surprise they turn to Jon, who himself has only been Captain on ship for only just before this crew was assigned to him. He gets up to check out whats going on, many of the others follow him, much to his disgruntlement as they basically fill the small room. Mother has intercepted a transmission of unknown origins and under contract of their jobs they must check it out. Curious to know more about their new course Jon calls Elias, who informs them it will be a 2 week set back on their schedules course. Jons not exactly excited about this but Tim’s quite happy to be informed it does give them quite a large bonus since it does seem confirmed of unknown (non-human) origins.

Once they arrive to their destination, Melanie sets the ship into motion for landing. She reads off all planet signs to the crew on. It’s a nearly isolated dwarf planet of 600 kilometers in diameter (372.823 miles). The surface on landing will be 23 degrees celsius- much warmer than expected but it does seem to be orbiting a sun fairly closely. They prepare for landing and Martin and Tim are set to get the ship in position. Martin and Tim talk together as they prep and make sure the landing legs will be fine against the surface of the planet. While they do so Sasha pops in announcing she gets to go with Jon and Melanie to investigate the source of the spooky transmission on foot. Meaning also she gets a bigger cut in the bonus than them. Tim and Sasha razz at each other but stop when sparks are spat in Martins face for wiring something wrong. He curses and Sasha comes over to help see what's wrong, pulling on gloves. She laughs a bit and gently teases him to choose a different degree to lie about next time he wants a new job as she fixes the wiring for him. Martin shushes her, claiming he didn’t expect them not to do background checks, nor did he expect to be given a position on one of the biggest damned cargo retrieval ships known. While he worked originally as a simple warehouse organizer at The Magnus Archives sister base on earth he had needed cash to help support himself after his Mother had moved out. Tim wraps an arm around Martin, claiming he’ll shield Martin from Jons prying eyes if anything goes wrong on this detour. They laugh a bit before the radio goes off from Jons office room. He’s complaining about the lights not turning on in there and would be thrilled if someone did their job correctly when fixing it before he gets back on the ship. Tim radios him that they’re on it before they tease Martin more on his obvious crush on Jon before Sasha is then called up to suit up.

Georgie is helping the 3 suit up properly, making sure their heart monitors are secure and attached to their neck to get an accurate pulse. Jon seems to be struggling most with the suit up, this unlike the other two, being his first time in a suit outside of the initial training. Sasha after having her camera feed double checked helps Jon out. And while Jon doesn’t say anything about it, it’s obvious Sasha should’ve gotten the job as Captain. Melanie the entire time rattling on about how excited she is to document her findings of a foreign transmission.

They land with ease, nothing going wrong as the planet, while rocky with a constant rain, is also somewhat flat. They make their way to the source of the transmission. Tim and the others are now watching from the ship- cameras live feed and audio coming to them as Georgie talks with Melanie about all the kind of things they could find on the ship to study. Nikola reminds everyone that without the items and everyone following the procedures for quarantine, no one is touching the items that may be brought back. The conversation dies out into aww when they see the space ship the signal is coming from appear on camera. Melanie is excited as Sasha and Jon start to look for a way in. Jon reminds them to stay close to him at all times as they enter the ship- its obvious he’d rather none of them go in here due to how degraded the place looks. Everything seems to have been heavily melted in random patches, but the ship itself seems to be made of a biological element of some sort- comparing it to a ribcage almost as they walk through it.

As they traverse the ship they stumble across multiple dead alien bodies. They aren’t fresh but they also don’t look years old. Melanie goes to take a closer look at them but Jon quickly pulls her back from them, yelling about how obviously unsafe it is as well as the fact that she just broke formation rushing off into a different room. They both get into an argument about what should be done with the bodies, and how far their investigations should go. At this point the feed is hardly coming through via camera, but the audio makes it back to the the ship roughly. Sasha goes on without them as she’s getting closer to decode the transmission. it’s a warning of sorts is what she can gather. Looking at the bodies it may have been an illness of some type, each of them dead from some type of acid but she finds one with an open chest- like an explosion. she gets closer to one, that seems to shift out of the corner of her eye. She tries to let the others know but she realizes that they can’t hear her over their arguing, and she’s almost certain she’s lost on the foreign ship. So instead she brings herself closer to the alien body before something crashes behind her and she stumbles back, tripping over something, and screams as she bashes her head on the back of her helmet. She gets up and looks around and sees the shadow of the creature run off and she chases after it.

That got the attention of the others as not only with the scream but Tim tells them her heart rate is spiking drastically. Jon and Melanie cry out for Sasha and she stops after meeting a dead end. She sighs and tells them she’s fine, she just fell and admittedly was just chasing after shadows. She turns around however and suddenly her heart monitor on the ship starts to read dead. PART 2

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writing-in-april · 4 years

Text

Russian Roulette

Spencer Reid x Female Unsub Reader

Thanks to my beta readers! @definitelynotkatesblog and @clean-bands-dirty-stories

WARNINGS: NSFW, SMUT, MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING

Includes: Suicide, Attempted Suicide, Toxic Relationship, Gun kink, Angsty smut -There is no specific dominant person in the smut-

A/N: Please do not read if you are easily triggered or under the age of 18. This was really difficult to write but I am really happy the way it came out! I have a playlist I made for writing this if anyone is wanting it just ask! My requests are open for basically any character you can think of, I want to branch out and write lots of characters!

Word count: 3.2k

Masterlist

——

The warehouse that I had found myself masking my location in was in no doubt the most ghastly place I had chosen yet. I wasn’t sure what drew me to the abandoned depository, maybe I had subtly acknowledged to myself that I was at the end of my rope-I knew I couldn’t run forever. The smoke colored walls matched the ashes dropping from the cigarette I had lit to alleviate my anxiety. The cat and mouse game I had been playing with the team that was on my trail was coming to an end. They had an extra vendetta set out against me since I cruelly betrayed the trust built between us. Polluted air swirled around me as I dug my nose in a book, trying to distract myself from my impending doom.

A noise drew my thoughts away from Catcher in the Rye that I had been reading while sat on a shitty mattress, practically the only furniture in this hole in the wall. My manicured nails snuffed out the cigarette into the bed and discarded the paperback, knowing that this was the start of the end. The double doors swung open as the recognizable silhouette Dr. Reid, his shadow was tall and lanky, with noticeable wild curls that looked as if he had rolled out of bed. He finally graced my eyes with the details of his figure, every step he took had lingering hesitation. It had been weeks since I had last seen him, he looked considerably more tired since he had last graced me with his presence, purple dark rings sat under his eyes, his hair even more disheveled then normal, and his clothes lacked the crisp ironing that he usually sported. I hated that I was the one that had caused his disheveled state, I had found a kindred spirit in Dr. Reid. It seemed like we were made for one another, our interests were exactly aligned, the only major thing that separated us was my penchant for murdering people. He was the first person I had felt connected to since my mother and it pained me to see that my betrayal had obviously weighed heavy on his mind.

“I see you finally found me.” I stated nonchalantly as I stood up, he was standing as far away as he could, from my observation it was evident he was disgusted with me but he was still drawn to me like a moth to a flame. He nodded solemnly, the words that he wanted to speak seemed caught in his throat, so instead his eyes bored into my soul. We stood in contemplation just staring at each other, we were only a few feet away from each other but it felt as if we were worlds apart.

“Was it ever real?” He finally spoke up in a shaky voice, his lip quivering in either anger or sadness. “Did you feel what I felt?”

“I hadn’t been real to anyone in a long time until I met you.” I spoke honestly, though I wasn’t sure if he believed me.

I felt the memory of our first meeting flash before my eyes, a murderer had crashed into my hometown, killing important people with checkered pasts. Politicians, lawyers, and police officers- no one was safe. My job as a therapist put me straight into the cesspit of what I viewed as the worst of humanity, slimy high ranking fixtures of the community. I often felt my skin crawling as sick human beings put on a facade of perfection hiding their nefarious deeds behind closed doors, so I began taking care of them by slitting their throats in the dead of night.

When the BAU rolled into our city they immediately put everyone connected with the victims into protective custody. There wasn’t an immediately obvious motive so the team had collected anyone with an important role putting each person with a specific team member. I had been put with the genius of the team Dr. Reid. The stay in the safe house with him made our relationship blossom, we shared interests, hobbies, and even our backstories (I had edited mine a bit so they wouldn’t catch on). Usually I viewed the world as black and white good or evil and until I met Dr. Reid I hadn’t felt grey before just a dark cesspool of no emotion.

I had never even spoken his first name, I had told him that- “Someone who earned 3 PHDs should have their achievements recognized all the time.” I still couldn’t deny these strange feelings that welled up inside of me, no matter how hard I tried to distance myself.

When I had been spotted by the doctor running from the scene of a crime I could practically hear his heart break and to be honest mine did too. I never wanted him to see this side of me that I kept buried, I had wanted to stop for a while even after that first kill but what had first started out as vigilantism turned into a compulsion to kill.

His screams broke me out of my reminiscing my eyes snapped up to see the doctor holding his gun, pointing it straight at my heart.

“WHY?! Why you?” He broke out of his previous calm facade, letting me in on the anger I had stirred underneath.

“You know the profile Doctor you tell me” I asked, though no answer was given.

The gun was shaking in his hands, his fury boiling over, steam was practically coming out of his ears.

“Pull the trigger Dr. Reid. It’s what we’ve both been waiting for, isn’t it? Let’s skip the reminiscing. So go on. Pull the trigger.” His grip faltered, he wasn’t sure where to go from here, should he take you in? Or completely screw regulation and take out his unbridled rage on the woman who had cruelly stolen his heart by shooting her.

The weapon was lowered, his hands still shook in fury as he put it back snugly in its place. I already knew he had called his team, no matter what he felt for me before there was no way he would risk his career to let me go. Even though I had accepted the cards that had been dealt I wasn’t going to let them take me alive. Tentatively I stepped forward, wanting to gain a semblance of closeness between us before I sacrificed myself, his body was rigid in its place as our chests touched.

I pulled the gun from his his side holster, it was an odd gun for an FBI agent to carry, a revolver to be exact. My fingers gripped the curved cedar handle, dragging it across Dr. Reid’s clothed collarbones, his arms were stiff at his sides unmoving. He was unsure of my intentions with the weapon. He knew logically that I was cornered in this abandoned warehouse with no escape, and obviously I couldn’t do much with a single revolver, that’s why he had only put one round in, reserved only for my heart if the trigger was needed to be pulled. Then I softly, with uncharacteristic tenderness, grabbed the good doctor’s hand with my free hand to guide his large palms to envelope my hand over the gun. He seemed flustered, which was odd to me, his resolve of hatred had never weakened around me until now. Our hands were clasping the gun in unison, the clammy palms of Dr. Reid cradled my own as I reached over and spun the chamber to land on a random spot.

I prided myself on the ability to read people but I couldn’t ascertain the reason behind the evident hesitation in his eyes as I encouraged him to carefully set the revolver snug against my jaw. Was it possible he had developed a care for me or did this just boil down to fear of having an unsub handle his gun. His breathe was mixed with mine, I held my pattern evenly while his had become ragged, strong enough to whisp my hair away from my face. With a flick I unlocked the safety and a genuine smile graced my face, if these were my final moment I was glad I got to spend it with Dr. Reid, he brought me a strange sense of comfort that I had never known before. His whole body was shaking as my forefinger moved to the trigger- he almost looked as if he was going to cry. A resounding click echoed off the dull gray walls of my hiding place, I had momentarily escaped my fate.

Dr. Reid suddenly smashed his lips onto mine breaking me out of the brief relief. My body had grown rigid against his movements, I wasn’t used to emotional connections with anyone and they certainly were never romantic. Just the delicate touch of his hand on my hip was more care then I had ever been shone before.

My cold exterior that I had carefully constructed was now in ruins because of Doctor reid. He was the only one who truly saw who I was, past my trauma and the trauma I caused. I melted into his forceful kiss, the unspoken tension that we had created finally was boiling over. It was full of tongue and teeth, our noses bumping as we poured our feelings into the kiss, speaking without ever making a sound. My back collided with the nearest wall, dust flying off to coat our bodies, his knee parted my legs and rested between my thighs. His spare hand left my hip to cradle my cheek practically engulfing my face with his large palm, raking the soft pads of his fingertips across my skin.

The silver barrel still rested under my chin being held precariously by our joined grip, Dr. Reid’s hand left my cheek, snaking its way down to the waistband of my pants. The tips of his fingers danced at the edge building anticipation in my veins.

He suddenly pulled the gun out from under my chin and set it under his own, my eyes widened in confusion my desire vanishing by the second. I tried to pull our unified hold away from his jawline but unfortunately he was stronger then me.

“I don’t know if I can live without you” he choked out, he had used his profiling skills deducing that I was going to sacrifice myself. He spun the wheel setting the bullet in another indiscriminate position, resetting the stakes all over again.

“It’ll be ok.” I begged desperately trying to talk him away from the ledge, just because I had wasted my life didn’t mean he had to as well. I brought my available appendage and covered the outside of his hand continuing my efforts to pull the gun away from his grasp. He shook his head, tears were freely falling from the both of us, mixing together to form a salty pool. His fingers slipping underneath my encased hand finding the trigger with ease, he pulled it quickly a sickening click resounded through the stale atmosphere. Once I was satisfied that he had survived air quickly left my body releasing the breath that I had held tightly in my lungs.

Mimicking his reaction from earlier I submerged us into another kiss, this one was tinged with my anger from his reckless move. I voiced my displeasure surrounding his actions by biting into his lip, bruising the plush tender skin. A groan escaped from him, the salacious kiss was now tainted with blood from his lips mixing together in gory harmony.

Undulating my hips onto the thigh that still sat between my legs, desire snuck itself back inside of me, rebuilding what had been banished. I suddenly had the urge to remove every cloth barrier that remained between us, I needed him now. Dr. Reid clearly shared the sentiment as he started pulling on the clothing covering my body. I did my best to shuck off his plum colored blazer with my available phalanges while he attempted to snap open the front of my pants. Our hands still were glued the wooden hilt of the gun that was rooted in its spot at the edge of the doctor’s jaw. The buttons of his dress shirt popped around us as my painted nails dug into the cotton, tearing the offensive fabric from his body. With frantic inelegant movement our outer clothing was ripped off our forms, the only barrier that lingered was our undergarments. His nimble fingertips wound around to the clasp of my bra tugging forcefully the clasp broke, freeing me from its confinement.

The lace was discarded in hast revealing my breasts to him he surged forward capturing my nipple in his mouth as my hips ground into his thigh. Circling my bud he glanced upwards, taking in the sight of my flushed cheeks, hair slicked with sweat, and the gun that I had swiftly moved to my temple removing it from his mandible. Excitement prickled in my core as he meandered down to where I craved him the most, he fisted the mesh- the last remaining remnant of clothing covering my body. A tearing noise filled the space, reverberating around us as the mesh separating us was torn away from me, revealing my full form.

His deft fingers gathered the building excitement between my folds, then he brought them to make contact with my clit. He rubbed slow harsh figure 8s against my pearl, I could feel myself getting wetter- which I didn’t think was possible. The ministrations continued for a while, but I was antsy to get his fingers inside of me. A beg almost fell from my mouth when all of a sudden with no warning his fingers plunged into my heat making my body convulse around him. He curled them expertly, nudging them perfectly at my g spot making the pit in my stomach grow and spread throughout my entire body.

Our hold had started to loosen on the gun so I clutched around the revolver tighter tugging our entangled fingers to rest the metal shaft perfectly against my temple. Upping the stakes further I rapidly clicked the trigger, the gun still had not administered its bullet into my brain, making the obscene act even better then before. His eyes held fear for a moment but couldn’t help his reaction to the clicks, a deep seated groan from deep in his chest. The sensations flowing through my body almost became too much to bear as he moved his thumb to my clit. My back arched against the wall as he sunk the blunt edges of his teeth into my collarbone while flicking against my clit with his thumb, sending me closer to bliss. He must have discerned that I was close to the edge and pulled his fingers away, his knuckles bumping against my g spot one last time which pulled a pathetic whimper from my throat while screwing my eyes shut.

I heard the tell tale sign of a belt buckle clinking causing my eyes to snap open, his full body was finally on display for me. My eyes drank in the sight before me, the doctor was just as I had imagined in my dreams, not too thick but long enough that I thought it might not fit. I reached forward to pump his length spitting into my palm as I jerked him off.

“Jump.” He whispered desperately into the shell of my ear, with careful precision my legs wrapped around his naked torso as I locked him in. The gun was the only barrier that remained between us as he lined himself up to my entrance and thrusted in one swift motion, breaching my walls for the first time.

“Fuck.” The soft expletive fell from his rose hued lips on the column of my throat making my toes curl.

His hips snapped into mine starting a pace with deliberate deep thrusts, my free arm wrapped around his neck trying to pull him in as close as possible. My fingers then wound through his messy curls yanking back so I could pepper kisses along the nape of his neck earning a sharp grunt from Dr. Reid as he picked up the pace. I bit the inside of my cheek in concern as he moved the gun to be placed under his jaw again. Tears started to fall again from my eyes as I silently pleaded for him not to pull the trigger, he ignored my pleas and reset the bullet to a random position once more. His rhythm faltered as the gun clicked for the fifth time, I knew we were testing fate too much at this point and that our luck was running out.

He kept the gun in its position while he picked up his momentum resuming his previous pace. My blood red nails dug into any part of him that I could grab onto leaving red streaks down his chest, back, and biceps as he reached parts of me that I didn’t even think existed. Our eyes locked together as his cock brushed against my g spot causing me to clench around him, we both moaned at the sensation hurtling us both closer to release.

I reached my hand down to rub harshly on my clit as I felt my climax coming just around the corner, my eyes rolling back in response to the added titillation. I then dragged our encapsulated hands away from Spencer pulling the barrel inside my mouth, his fingers flexed around mine anxiously as he soft whispers into my ear attempting to save me from myself. We both had somehow sensed that it was the end, I thought it was very fitting to end my life in the arms of the only person in the world I could find myself caring about. He didn’t stop his thrusts but they were now at a slow languid pace trying to savor every last moment he had with me.

“Spencer” I moaned in bittersweet symphony as I let myself kiss his bruised lips for the last time, our tears were falling giving our kiss a salty taste. A feeling of bliss suddenly overtook my body as I came in glorious crescendo. I rode out my high before I accepted my fate, my blood pounding in my ears for the final time. The wall was painted with blood as I pulled the trigger, ending my life with a bang.

*****

The shot rang in Spencer’s ears, it took him a minute to realize what had happened and that the object of his desire was gone. He was still holding the gun as the body of his unattainable love slumped onto him in death, his face speckled with scarlet. Finally the offending object slipped through his fingers clattering on the floor as he cradled her body.

His sobs echoed the empty rooms bouncing off the the walls mixing with the police sirens in the distance.

“He loved and he loved and he lost her, and it hurts like hell”-Fleurie

Tag list for Russian Roulette:

@zhuzhubii

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #angst #smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic

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skywalkerstyles · 3 years

Text

Skin (Bakugou x OC!Reader insert)

Warnings: kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, quirkless AU, criminal Bakugou, robbery, hostage situation, anxiety, mysophobia

Summary: Katsuki Bakugou is a killer, hell bent on revenge. Hikaru Moshimoto is a college student with a dark and cloudy past. When Hikaru is taken hostage and forced to work with Bakugou in order to survive, will the be able to get passed their differences, and see the people behind the scars? A stalker seeks to finish something Hikaru started a long time ago. When they come head to head, will Bakugou protect her? Or will he add another victim to his list?

Hikaru Moshimato felt sick when she woke up that chilly september morning. Monday, September fifteenth to be exact. It was a day she would never forget or get over. It changed the course of her life forever.

It started out like any other morning, she got up, got dressed, had breakfast, fed her little cat Yoshi and headed out the door on her way to work. But there was a presence, it was dark and gloomy, and hung over her like a shadow. Something was coming, and she wasn't ready for it. At all.

She pulled up to the little gas station by her job, it had a little convenience store attached, a place she could grab snacks and drinks before work, the vending machines there were usually way overpriced, so it was easier to just bring food with her. She got out of her car, locking the doors as she held her wallet close to her chest, tucked her head down and walked inside.

She sighed, upon stepping into the cool air conditioned building, and instead of walking up to the counter and just paying for her gas she eyed the slushie station. She loved slushies, and she could never pass one up. She smiled to herself thinking, fuck it, and strolled over to the slushie machine. There was a man standing to the side of the machine, where the fridges held the drinks, he had a Redbull in one hand and a smartwater in the other. He wore an unbuttoned, navy blue flannel with a black t shirt and grease stained blue jeans. His eyes were covered by dark sunglasses and his hair was covered by a blue and white striped baseball cap. Hikaru was hyper aware of his presence, making sure to keep aware of her surroundings. She didn’t like the vibe she was getting from this guy. He scared her. Seemed like trouble.

But if he noticed her presence, he didn't show any signs of it.

So Hikaru relaxed her shoulders, shaking her head and began to ponder the flavor she’d get today. Hikaru had never been one for conversation anyway. She always kept to herself, due to some social anxieties and quirks she had, that made her ‘unapproachable’ as her mother had put it. But if you had a doctor mother who abused prescription medication and neglected you after your father’s death, you might have some fucked up issues too.

Which is why she found it strange when she felt the man’s presence shift, he’d come closer to her, and she could feel him staring. She kept her eyes down, feeling her cheeks heat up as she pulled a cup from the slot and got ready to pour her syrupy drink into it.

"What's your favorite flavour?" He asked suddenly, and the deep rough voice startled her. She twitched and peek at him curiously through her hair, that thankfully, covered most of her face.

"Coke." she answered meekly. The man cracked a smile, his teeth were perfect and bright. It was almost, alluring. Definitely charming.

“Really?” he asked, reaching out and taking the cup from her. She didn’t have time to react, before he plucked it from her hands and filled it with the drink of her choice. “I like blue raspberry best….sometimes cherry’s good too.” He handed her the drink and she took it hesitantly. He chuckled at her demeanor, cocking his head to the side, that ridiculously handsome smile still plastered to his face.

“Thank you.” she managed after a moment, she placed a lid on her drink and grabbed a straw.

“No problem,” he replied, following her as she turned towards the cashier. She can feel the panic and the nerves rising within her. Why was he following her? As they stood in line, waiting for the other customers to leave, she could feel the man change, his whole demeanor took on a darker, more serious tone. She curled in on herself, hoping he wouldn’t try and follow her to her car. Hikaru hadn’t always been this way. Afraid of germs, afraid of touch….Basic human contact. No. If you looked at her high school yearbook, you wouldn’t even think it was the same person. She used to be bright, and outgoing, willing to chat it up with just about anybody, a regular teenage girl. Until Amano. And...Hina... She shook her head, trying to focus on the task at hand, get the drink. Get the gas. Go to work. She took a deep breath, she would complete her goals today.

“Hi! How are you today?” a cheery red head smiled at Hikaru, she tried to smile back, and return the enthusiasm, but the feeling of dread was starting to creep back up on her and she couldn’t shake it off.

“I’m fine thank you. Ten dollars on pump-”

“Shut up.” Hikaru feels a strong hand wrap around her upper arm and tug her back, she looked up to see the man who had been by the slurpee machine, pulling her towards him, a pistol in his hand, pointed right at the cashier. Hikaru squeaked as the man pulls her into him, jabbing the gun into her side. “Give me all the money in the register, or you, and her die. Now!” Hikaru flinches at the last word, which he snarled at the cashier. She had her hands up, tears streaming down her face. “Move.” he ordered. The cashier slammed a metal grate down and an alarm began to sound. The man held onto Hikaru even harder, yanking her around as he turned to find an exit. “Fuck!” he exclaimed. Hikaru shifted, trying to wriggle free. He pulled her closer, he was big and intimidating. He reminded her of Amano. “You’re not going anywhere.” he said. “I need you. Come on.”

Panic began to rise within Hikaru, she could feel her breath growing more ragged by the minute, all the things she needed to get done shooting through her head. The man dragged her towards the back of the store and into the warehouse, once inside, he shut and locked the door, shoving her from him and holding the gun to her. Surprisingly, the slushie hasn’t spilled. “Don’t move.” he said coldly. A sob escaped her throat, the bubble was rising, she could feel the panic getting ready to burst.

“P-Please,” she rasped, her throat was closing, she couldn’t breathe.“I-I have money.”

“I don’t want your money. We need to get out of here.” Hikaru looked at him confused.

“W-we?” the man grabbed her again, yanking her towards the back of the warehouse.

“Yeah. We. You’re my hostage,” fear filled her as the man’s lips curled into a confident smirk. He pulled a set of handcuffs from his pocket and yanked her forward, cuffing her. “Don’t struggle. And you live.” She was about to faint. The alarm was blaring, but through the sound Hikaru could hear the doors bursting open. The same doors she had walked into only minutes ago, it seemed like hours now. The man cursed again, kicking the back exit door open and shoving her through.

________________

They hid behind a dumpster, he peaked out, looking around to see cops, flooding into the gas station, Hikaru shifted uncomfortably, the cuffs were tight on her wrists, digging into her skin. He didn’t seem to notice. “A-are you a criminal?” she asked. He didn’t even turn to look at her, inching forward slowly, his hand still gripping her tightly.

"Yeah."that was it. No explanation. Just a straight no bull answer. As the cops go into the front of the store, the man gripped her tightly and yanked her towards an older Astro van. Hikaru pondered why no cops were looking over towards them, how no one could see he was taking her. But it would be just her luck. He threw the passenger door open, shoving her inside, before running around to the otherside and climbing in. The door shut with a slam and he pealed out and away, the cops just noticing as you leave the gas station. The sweet and tasty slushie, left on the floor of the warehouse.

____________

The van was loud. It sent deep rumbles of vibration all the way down to Hikaru’s bones. Like a massage after the chaos back at the gas station. Her hands are still bound but the man had finally stowed the gun. There was no handle on the inside of the passenger door. She was stuck and she stayed quiet. Out of fear. The man drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, listening to a song on the radio. The silence wasn’t tense, but it wasn’t comfortable either. "Are you going to kill me?" she asked softly, so low he might not even hear her. He stopped drumming and turned to look at her for the first time since he’d taken her.

"Wasn't planning on it." He replied. “I just needed some cash….but damn that cashier was quick on her feet. Taking you was the only way I would have gotten out of there alive.”

“W-why do you say that?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her. He cocked his eyebrow, finally taking off his glasses, his eyes were a deep blood red.

“You...You don’t watch tv do you ?” she shook her head. The news gave her anxiety. The only time she left her dorm was for class or work. Necessities. She kept to herself. He chuckled and shook his head as he turned on his turn signal.

“Why do you ask?” she asked a bit louder. She watched his adam’s apple bob and his eyes scan the road, searching for the right answer.

“I uh, I’m in a business most don’t agree with.” he said.

She decided to push a little further, “what do you do?”

“I’m...I’ve killed people.” he said it solemnly. Like he wasn’t proud of it, but he had to do it. Hikaru feels the panic begin to rise again. He cleared his throat. “What’s your name?” he asked, changing the subject.

“M-my…..it’s Hikaru.” she said, wishing she sounded braver than she felt. “Hikaru Moshimoto.”

“I’m Bakugou, Bakugou Katsuki.” he responded, “You know, you’re the first person I’ve met in a long time who didn’t know who I am.” he sighed, clicking his tongue, “You’re a weird girl.”

“Says the man who just admitted to murder being his occupation.” he laughed, shaking his head. She didn’t want to admit it, but she liked his laugh.

“Yeah, maybe we’re both just weird.” He paused and then said carefully, "I won’t hurt you."the tone of his voice is softer, calmer, and surprisingly soothing "Unless you make me." He added with emphasize on ‘make’.

“H-How many…” Hikaru trailed off, unable to finish her question. It was strange, she could never talk and be this open with just anybody. She usually just kept quiet, and stayed in her lane. She wasn’t the type of person to make waves. Not since before…..

“How many people have I killed?” Bakugou finished for her. She nodded, glad to have been pulled back from the darkness of her thoughts. He can tell that she’s got something going on. She looked so small and fragile. Like the china plates his mom used to collect. He really didn’t want to hurt her, and silently prayed he’d never have to. He bit his lip, trying to think of the right answer, “If I had to count….possibly sixty.” Hikaru’s mouth fell open in shock.

“Oh my….” she instinctively moved further from him. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of rejection. She focused on her shoes, on the scuffs and the threads in the laces, anything to keep her from going crazy. They sat in silence for a long while. Bakugou began to twitch as it stretched, it was slight, barely noticeable. Except she saw it. "So where are you taking me?" Hikaru asked awkwardly, eyes darting to his before looking ahead again

“I’m taking you to my family. You’re my hostage for now, but they’ll decide if you know too much or have seen too much.” Hikaru swallowed hard, wondering what that could possibly mean. He must have sensed her worry, because he reached out, only to pull his hand back when she flinched, with a sigh. “Just don’t worry….You seem harmless enough.”

“Can you take the cuffs off? Please? They hurt.” Bakugou pulls off onto the side of the road.

"Don't try anything, okay? I have a gun." Bakugou met her eyes as he shut off the van and turned to her, he looked down to her hands. He quickly unlocked the cuffs and sat back. She rubbed her swollen wrists and he started the car back up.

“Are you scared?” he asked after a while. Hikaru looked up at him again. She noticed he had freckles, they were light and scattered across his cheeks...He’d be a good subject to draw.

“I….” she bit her lip, unsure of how to proceed, “I’m terrified…..I know that mentally….But I guess I’ve shut down. I don’t really feeling anything.”

“Why?” he asked, suddenly curious. Did he want her to be afraid.

“I’ve been in….I’ve been in a lot worse situations,” he scoffed at that, disbelievingly.

“You’re my hostage. I had you at gunpoint. I’m kidnapping you and you’ve been in worse situations?” she smiles at how ludicrous it sounds.

“It does sound crazy but….I don’t know. I have a lot of anxiety disorders and I’ve been struggling with depression so I….maybe this was too much and my body is protecting itself.” he pursed his lips together.

“How old are you?”

“22.”

Shit. He thought. She’s just a kid. “I’m sorry it had to be you.” she gave him a questioning look. “In the store. If you hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have taken you.” she nodded, not quite accepting his apology, but understanding, that he knew, she had been through some shit.

“I haven’t…..I haven’t left this town my entire life.” she said quietly, changing the subject. Bakugou picked up her switch in demeanor and followed it, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yeah?” she tried to smile, it was small and tight, but she could feel the uneasiness begin to grow again.

“Yeah….where is your family?”

“You’ll see,” he said, flashing her a grin. “You’ll like it better than this dump.” he snorted as they passed the ‘Leaving Town’ sign.

“Why did you come here?” she asked before she could stop herself.

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.” she nodded, sinking back into her seat. Bakugou cleared his throat and turned the radio back up. “Better settle in. We got a long drive…..what kind of music do you like?”

________

He shut the door behind him. The dorm room was quiet and he couldn’t feel her presence as he looked around. Everything was in it’s rightful place, meticulous and germ freak as ever. He missed her so much. He walked over to Hikaru’s desk and lifted the sketchbook that sat open on it, he touched the lines of the person she drew, imagining the way she drew it, the way her hands moved. His heart was racing. It was 4pm and she should have been home now. She didn’t have any friends.

Where was she?

Where was the girl he’d been searching for for so long?

He was dying to see her again…….

#bakugou x reader #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x you #bakugou x oc #bakugou bnha #bnha #bakugou imagine #bakugou one shot #bakugou fanfiction #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha bakugou #my hero academia fanfiction #my hero academia fanfic #my hero academia one shot #my hero academia imagine

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asherwarf-archive · 3 years

Text

i saw ASHER WARF at a coffee shop in QUEENS today. i forgot how much HE looks like DANE DEHAAN. they are a THIRTY-THREE year old WAREHOUSE WORKER who’s been in nyc for THIRTY YEARS now. every time we run into each other, they are always SELF-AWARE AND DILIGENT but i’ve heard people say they can also be ASOCIAL AND PESSIMISTIC. HOLD IT TOGETHER BY MIKE SHINODA reminds me of them every time it comes on the radio.

TW: drug addiction, recovery and relapse, mental illness, divorce, social services, and prison. brief mention of violent crime.

born in philidelphia, pennsylvania, asher’s parents were your average “high school sweethearts”, having hit it off during their senior year; both able to relate to one another’s working-class backgrounds. his mother’s pregnancy was unplanned; however, it wasn’t unwanted, the couple welcoming a son into the world on a september evening – the thirteenth to be precise. one of asher’s earliest memories was at aged three when he and his parents moved from their quiet philly suburb home to brace the chaos of new york, hoping to open a door of new beginnings and opportunities for the three of them.

growing up, it became apparent that asher was something of a “difficult” child, teachers throughout kindergarten and elementary school often reporting incidents of tantrums and picking fights with other kids; however, his parents never had much concern regarding this. after all, kids go through these sorts of phases, right? perhaps it was something that should have been nipped in the bud, though, as adolescence was when his behaviour started to take a downward spiral. during this time – unbeknownst to asher – his parents’ marriage was beginning to crumble and soon lead to an inevitable divorce when asher was sixteen, his father deciding to up and leave their home one evening. this, of course, took a toll on his mother and, over the following months, caused her to sink into a depressive state. though he and his mother never discussed it, asher had his suspicions that perhaps he was to blame for his parents’ separation. with this weight resting on his shoulders, asher’s behaviour as a teenager got worse – he started mixing with bad crowds, finding himself roped into a world of recreational drugs and misdemeanour. his rebellion combined with his mother’s deep depression made it difficult for her to cope as a parent, social services soon having to step in and offer extended respite care as a solution.

living out of plastic bin bags hurt like hell for a kid of his age, though there was no resentment towards his mother for his living situation – he knew deep down that perhaps he had a lot to answer for. nonetheless, his continuous misbehaviour led to another inevitable: him being a high school drop-out. between the ages of seventeen and into his twenties is when things took a turn for the worst; recreational drugs and misdemeanour becoming more serious affairs – an addiction to prescription opioids and the means of getting his fix. of course, this was a somewhat expensive addiction for a young man with no qualifications or earnings to his name and, in a desperate state, asher entered a local convenience store one evening; making a decision which would lead to dire consequences.

october the fifth would forever be a significant date after that evening – at aged twenty-two, asher was sentenced to prison for armed robbery, a manic decision fuelled from the desperation to scratch an unbearable itch. arguably, this was perhaps another inevitable in his life; his behaviour and acts of misdemeanour as an adolescent being something of a foreshadowing. however, despite his delinquency growing up, asher was, in fact, not built for a life behind bars. being tossed into a cesspool of those described as “society’s worst” was a daunting experience – handfuls of erratic personalities forced to live with one another, some white-collar criminals, others responsible for someone’s last breath. it was, indeed, an unpredictable culture within those concrete walls and barbed wire fences; one that would be enough to push a man over the edge. the desperate craving for a fix lingered; however, with mere pennies to his name – and therefore limited commissary to trade – asher turned to a cheaper option that would offer similar effects; abusing heroin among other drugs throughout his sentence.

his twenties spent behind a steel cell door, it wasn’t until his thirties – aged thirty-one to be exact – that asher was able to, at last, experience the freedom of the outside world after almost a decade; having lost what were, arguably, his most precious years of adulthood to a life that some wouldn’t wish upon their worst enemy. though comparable to a deer in the headlights upon his arrival at the prison facility all of those years ago, returning to the “real world” was something of a disconcerting experience in itself – he had grown accustomed to an existence defined by rules, set mealtimes and discipline; never able to move freely outside of his assigned wing without a set of handcuffs and shackles, and a warden at either side of him. of course, those still incarcerated would give up everything that they owned for a mere glimpse outside of the merciless steel beams and mesh that surrounded them; however, self-awareness was, perhaps, one of asher’s few “positive” traits and he knew all too well that the task of returning as a conforming member of society wouldn’t be a simple one – a large chunk of civilization immediately declaring people like him as being the scum of humankind. ever the pessimist, there was a period of time upon his release where asher was in a metaphorical hole, continuing to abuse heroin as a means of numbing even the slightest bit of emotion or anguish that he might have felt.

though it was somewhat difficult for him to admit, asher knew deep down that he had a problem that required a solution, and fast; having been a witness to what the wicked substance could do to those who continued to abuse it. however, recovering from excessive use of such a drug was, indeed, much harder than it seemed, urges to relapse growing stronger as the weeks passed; some of which he succumbed to. fast forward to now, asher is still battling the immense hardships that come with recovery, relying on doses of prescription methadone to aid him through the process. symptoms come and go; however, the long-term effects are prominent in his mental health; unpredictable mood swings and signs of paranoid schizophrenia, though no official diagnoses. with no qualifications and a criminal record to his name, asher works perhaps one of few careers that would allow him a second chance at life; a low-wage warehouse job, packaging and labelling boxes for hours on end – it's a repetitive, tedious task, but all to make ends meet.

—

aaand scene! first and foremost, i will apologise for the fact that i suck at concluding a piece of writing - it isn’t a strong point of mine (which i think we’ve gathered). i’m roo, and this absolute car-crash of a human being is asher, a character of mine who i’ve had for close to ten years now; however, this is the first time in a looong that i’m properly getting to explore his characteristics and whatnot so i’m quite excited about that. i’ll leave a link below to some ideas that i've come up with for connections / plots, but please, please, please do feel free to message me with any ideas of your own. i’d love to work something out!

CONNECTION / PLOT IDEAS

#villageintro #tw: drug addiction #tw: relapse #tw: mental illness #tw: divorce #tw: social services #tw: prison #tw: crime #i hope that i've covered everything #i suck at concluding a piece of writing apparently

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ethanlivemere · 3 years

Text

Half-Life²: Anticitizen - Chapter 2

(Prologue and chapter 1 can be found on my profile)

Chapter 2

Friendly Faces

Barney Calhoun was a valued member of the Black Mesa Security Force. He did his job well and was particularly respected by the other security guards for his ability to passive-aggressively give a piece of his mind to some of the more pompous scientists who treated the security team as their inferiors, without ever directly disobeying their orders. He was the kind of guy you could grab a beer with after work – something I had been meaning to do for a long time before the… incident. I had always felt I had more in common with him than any of my fellow scientists: not only did we both have the bad habit of not being the most punctual, but he also gave a me a good run for my money when it came to my high scores on the Black Mesa Hazard Course. While other scientists were busy competing for grant money, I was out trying to one-up Barney at the shooting range.

I thought he was dead. That he had been lost in the aftermath of the Resonance Cascade, eaten by a bullsquid, or worse, turned into a grotesque zombie like so many others. And yet, here he is, standing in front of me with his arms spread as he cheekily grins at me, now sporting the black Metropolice uniform instead of the familiar BMSF standard-issue bulletproof vest and helmet. His face, previously hidden behind the white gasmask, looks older than I remember. The first hints of gray have started to appear at the base of his dark hair and in his 5 o’clock shadow. His face looks tired and worn out beneath his cheerful expression. The eyes are what give it away: I’ve seen the same exhausted eyes on every citizen I have encountered so far. They’re the eyes of a man who has been through hell. Well, I guess that’s one more thing we have in common.

“Surprised to see me?” Barney asks, noticing the probably visible confusion on my face. “Well, that makes two of us, Gordon. Where’ve you been? It’s been ten years, man!” Ten years. So the man in the suit was telling the truth. It’s really been ten years since Black Mesa. What happened in that time? “Sorry about the scare earlier, I had to put on a show for the cameras,” Barney says, pointing over his shoulder at the disabled scanner on the ceiling. “Listen, I know you have a lot of questions but I can’t keep you here too long. I’ve been working undercover with Civil Protection, we need to get you out of here before they get suspicious. All I can tell you for now is that if you thought Black Mesa was as bad as it could get, well… you’re in for a nasty surprise.” He turns around and starts fiddling with the console. Symbols flash on the screens, the same symbols that I saw on the Consul’s broadcasts and the red bands on the shoulders of the Metrocop uniforms. Whatever they are, Barney seems to understand them.

“Okay Gordon, we’re gonna try to get you to Dr. Kleiner’s lab. It’s not too far from here, in an old warehouse in an industrial part of the city.” Kleiner? Does he mean… Isaac Kleiner? Could he be alive too? “I can’t take you there personally unfortunately, I have a shift to get to if I don’t want to blow my cover. But I’ll let one of my guys in the streets know you’re coming, he’ll show you the way.” Barney walks to a small window that looks out over an equally small courtyard. He opens it and looks out. “Go through that door over there. You should be able to get to the plaza. My guy will meet you there.” He walks back to the desk and starts putting the front of his mask back in place.

I look through the window. It’s about an eight foot drop; nothing I can’t handle. The claustrophobic courtyard is empty save for a trashcan lying on its side on the mossy tiles. The door Barney was talking about is the only entrance or exit. I look back to the once again unrecognizable Barney. I briefly thank him, and he salutes me with two fingers. “I’ll see you later, Gordon. Try not to draw any attention to yourself,” his distorted voice sounds through the mask. I nod him goodbye and swing my leg over the windowsill, effortlessly jumping down and landing safely. I look up and see the window being closed. I guess I’m on my own again.

The rusty door takes me to a small boiler room, which leads into a short corridor. I let my instincts and the faint sound of the Consul’s voice guide me through the station and I soon find myself in the entrance hall. Like the rest of the building, it is a dilapidated remnant of former glory. What once were ticket booths have been transformed into some sort of dispensing machine, which slowly spits out featureless brown packages into the eager hands of the shabby citizens who form a long, patient queue under the watchful eye of Metrocops. Above them, the Consul spouts the same repeating message: “Welcome to City 17.”

A woman walks by, clutching her newly received package against her chest. I can now see some of the alien symbols on the brown, paper-like exterior, as well as some readable text: 4 rations. She glances at me but quickly directs her eyes back to the ground in front of her as she walks towards the exit. I follow her to the large, wooden double doors. She takes one hand off the ration packet to open the door, but in doing so looses her grip on the packet and drops it on the floor with a soft thud. She nervously glances around as she quickly picks it back up again, and I decide to help out by opening the door for her. I try to give her the warmest smile I can fake as she walks by. “We can’t be seen talking to each other,” is the only thing she mutters to me under her breath as she heads out into the daylight.

Although… daylight might be an exaggeration. The sight that greets me when I step outside is no different in tone than the station and the train ride before it, yet it still shakes me to my core. The plaza consists of a small, empty fountain surrounded by dead hedges and flanked by two tall pillars, each topped with a bronze statue of a prancing horse. Plastic bags, empty bottles and other kinds of small trash litter the otherwise empty street surrounding the plaza, and the only vehicle is a large armored car surrounded by a patrol of Metrocops. The few citizens that walk the street keep as close to the surrounding buildings – abandoned stores and boarded-off hotels – as possible. It is then that my eye falls on the gigantic structure that emerges beyond the buildings. It’s a looming spire of rust brown metal that forms an irregular shape I recognize from the various posters around the train station. Its exact height is impossible to tell as it disappears into the greenish clouds that obstruct the sky, but there is no doubt it is incredibly large – so large, in fact, that I’m amazed it took me so long to notice it. Several of the metal plates that layer the outside of the structure seem to move at very slow paces, almost as if the building is alive, and sometimes it looks like something flies in to or out of one of the many slits and crevices in the jagged exterior.

I tear my gaze away from the ominous sight and scan the plaza more attentively. Barney said he would have a guy tell me where to go once I got out of the station, but I can’t spot a single citizen not minding their own business like their lives depend on it – which they probably do. I walk down the stairs in front of the station’s entrance. I follow the citizens’ example and keep close to the buildings, heading the opposite way of the Metrocop patrol. I duck into a shadowy doorway to get out of their sightline and look around again when I hear a hushed “Hey!” coming from a bit further down the street that sprouts from the plaza. I see a young man beckoning me from another doorway. I glance around for Metrocops, decide that the coast is clear and hurry towards him. He is dark-haired, wears the same familiar citizen’s uniform and looks to be about my age… come to think of it, what is my age? Barney was about my age at Black Mesa, but the ten years since then are clearly visible on him, while the few times I’ve seen my own reflection since my ‘awakening’ hadn’t shown me any changes in my own appearance.

The man pulls me out of my thoughts when he grabs my arm and pulls me into the shadow of the doorway. “You’re Freeman, right?” I nod. “The name’s Jeremy. Barney told me to get you to Kleiner’s.” He looks at my chest, where Samuel had earlier noted the absence of an identity tag. “We won’t be able to get you through checkpoints since you’re not a registered citizen. Just follow me.” He starts walking down the street and looks at me over his shoulder. “It’s great to have you with us, Freeman. There’s no doubt you’ll be a great help in our fight against the Combine.”

I follow Jeremy through the abandoned streets of City 17. He seems to be excellent at avoiding Civil Protection, because we never cross them; I only ever see them in adjacent streets. Sometimes they are accompanied by an armored vehicle, sometimes they are stationed at a barricade of black metal, watching people get scanned before a gate opens to let them through. I guess these are the checkpoints we can’t pass through – or at least I can’t. While we walk, my guide confirms what I already knew: after the Resonance Cascade, Earth was invaded by an alien empire he calls the ‘Combine’, who laid waste to the planet and enslaved humanity. The otherworldly skyscraper in the middle of the city – called the Citadel – is their bastion. Apparently, every city has its own Citadel, but the one in City 17 is special in that it is also the residence of the Consul – Earth’s new leader.

He then tells me about a resistance group fighting back against the Combine rule. He says there are many resistance fighters outside of the city, but that Barney and Dr. Kleiner lead the more covert operatives within City 17. He remarks that I probably know Kleiner and I nod. I don’t just know Isaac Kleiner, he was my professor and mentor at MIT. I was one of his favorite and ‘most promising’ students (his words), and when I applied for the position of research associate at Black Mesa, it was Kleiner’s recommendation that got me the job, where I worked alongside him on the Anomalous Materials team until… Well, let’s try not to think about that too much now. It seems there are bigger issues at hand than regret.

Even though we successfully evade the Metrocops and their checkpoints, the Combine is visible everywhere in one way or another. For a start there is the Citadel always towering over the rooftops, a menacing silhouette on the dark sky. But the old, human-built buildings have also been corrupted by Combine technology. Large, complex locking mechanisms cling onto old wooden doors like tumorous growths. Smaller versions of the enormous wall I saw surrounding the city fill up gaps they themselves made, obsidian metal swallowing brick and stone. Watchtowers and other Combine structures have been planted on top of buildings, walls and roofs bending under their weight. Cables and pipelines run across and through walls like vines sprouting from concrete. There’s something almost fascinating about how the stoic, geometric order of the human city and the clean, essentialist order of the Combine tech overlap in a patchwork with chaos and destruction wherever they meet.

A rhythmic sound has been growing louder for a while now. Upon listening more closely, I realize it’s the sound of marching. An army marching. Jeremy rounds a corner and stops dead in his tracks. “Damn it… not good.” Down the street, at an intersection with a wide boulevard, I see dozens of soldiers walking in formation. They look a lot like Metrocops, but their masks are dark gray and they wear thick padding in camouflage colors instead of the black uniforms. They carry automatic rifles and their heavy combat boots send echoing thuds through the streets. I see several people standing by, watching the military procession walk down the street. My companion walks closer and I cautiously follow him. “Really not good. We have to cross this street, but this parade blocks our path.” He looks to both sides as if estimating its length. “I can’t even see the synths yet. This could easily go on for another twenty minutes. We can’t wait that long.” He looks up at the buildings flanking the street and points to a skyway that connects two apartment buildings on either side. “There.” I follow him down the street as he heads towards a large opening in the wall of the apartment building with the skyway. The opening is closed off by a cast iron fence, but its lock seems to have been broken for a long time and Jeremy simply pushes it open. It turns out to be a passage to a courtyard between the apartment buildings, with dark, vigilant windows and balconies looking out over it.

“Okay, you’re not supposed to come here if you don’t live here, so technically we’re trespassing,” Jeremy says to me as we make our way to the exterior staircase on one of the high walls surrounding the courtyard. “Then again, you were already illegal, so-” He cuts himself off abruptly freezes, seemingly listening. Over the still loud marching I can hear a soft, mechanical whirr with an occasional beep. Jeremy looks up and immediately grabs me. “Combot!” he shouts as he pulls me in the direction of the nearest door. I catch a brief glimpse of a floating drone with a single yellow eye before a bright, white flash blinds me. I stumble backwards and Jeremy, presumably also blinded, starts swearing with panic in his voice. The slow beeps of the drone turn into an alarm as I slowly regain my sense of sight, and when I can properly see again I find it’s still hovering in the same spot. By now I have seen enough examples of Combine technology to recognize that this so-called Combot is another one. Four metal flaps surround its eye, which has now turned red as it shines its flashlight onto us and continues its alarm.

Jeremy grabs me again and pushes me towards the staircase. “Look, it’s too late now. They know we’re here, there will be Metrocops swarming all over this place in half a minute. You gotta get out of here and get to Kleiner’s. I’ll hold them off.”

I try to object but am interrupted by a distant female voice echoing through the air: “Attention, Civil Protection team: unauthorized civil activity detected in residential block 67B. Investigate and report.”

Jeremy looks to the sky as if he’s looking for the source of the disembodied voice and then looks back to me. “Go through the residential block across the street, through the industrial district. Barney will meet you at the Manhack Arcade.” He points to something on the wall next to the stairs: between the various graffiti is a familiar Greek letter drawn in orange paint. “Follow the lambdas. They indicate safe routes for Resistance allies. Go!”

I hesitate for a second. I don’t want to leave him behind in the clutches of Civil Protection, but he doesn’t seem like he’s planning on going anywhere, so I give him a respectful nod before turning around and running up the stairs. I go as fast as I can, and I am almost at the top when I hear footsteps and the shriek of the broken gate. I look down and see several Metrocops run onto the courtyard with their batons ready. Jeremy puts his hands on his head before he gets grabbed by two Metrocops and forced onto his knees. One Metrocop steps forward. He looks different than the others, wearing a trench coat and carrying some kind of radio pack on his back. He asks Jeremy a question I can’t understand and when he doesn’t get an answer, he gestures to one of the Metrocops holding Jeremy down. A flash of blue as a stun baton is planted in Jeremy’s side. His body shakes a second before he falls to the ground. The trench coat-wearing Metrocop, probably an officer, barks a couple of brief orders. I can only understand a couple of words: “There were two”. I have to get out of here.

I ascend the final steps as quickly and as quietly as I can. There’s a wooden door at the top. I fidget with the handle. It’s unlocked. I open it, slip inside, and close it behind me. No time to rest. I hear the Metrocops coming up the stairs, and the Combot’s light seeps through the crack under the door. Got to keep moving. I scan the hallway. Apartment doors. Staircase. It’s dark: there are no windows and the lights don’t work, but there is daylight coming from around a corner down the hall. My footsteps echo on the brown ceramic tiles as I run past the closed doors and onto the skyway we had seen from below. Down in the street, the Combine troops are still marching. There are different units among them now. Hulking, mechanical figures, appearing to be almost eight feet tall, carrying enormous alien weaponry no human would be able to carry. These must be the synths Jeremy mentioned. Nestled deep in the armor between the bulky shoulders is something that doesn’t seem completely mechanical. I don’t stay to have a better look. Something tells me it would only disturb me.

I hear Metrocops banging on doors as I start making my way down the stairs of the building on the other side of the road, occasionally followed by a crash of splintering wood. The Metrocops bark orders at panicking citizens as they search the apartments. I use their preoccupation to put more distance between us, sincerely hoping my actions don’t get any of the inhabitants into serious trouble. I descend creaky stairs that wrap around the grating of an elevator shaft. A man stands in a doorway, curious about the noises that echo all the way from the other building, while a woman behind him urges him to go inside and close the door before they get here. I make brief eye contact with the man as I descend. My look must give away that I’m the cause of the tumult, because he whispers to me: “Go through the back door on the ground floor. I never saw you.” Another plea from the woman and he retreats into his apartment and closes the door.

I’m not sure I can trust the man. He might be leading me into a trap, or maybe he will point the Metrocops to where I went when they come knocking on his door. But right now, I have little choice but to accept all the help I can get if I ever want to reach Dr. Kleiner. When I reach the ground floor, there is an entrance hall with rows of mailboxes and a transparent door that leads out into a large street. I can see why the man told me to go out the back: it’s the street where the hordes of soldiers are still marching. I look around for a back door and find it in a windowless, unlit room filled with cardboard boxes. I have to move some of them to get the door open. Beyond the door is a courtyard much like the one where we got spotted by the Combot. The coast seems clear.

I can already tell which way I have to go. Amidst a tapestry of graffiti, there is another lambda drawn in orange spray paint next to a narrow passage. As I follow its guidance, I wonder why they chose this symbol for their ‘safe passages’. I mean, I can certainly guess where they got it from. Word must have gotten out about the Lambda lab’s part in stopping the Resonance Cascade – though, ultimately, it hardly saved Earth. Plus, no one at Black Mesa can really be praised for solving a problem we caused.

Having time to think again as I walk through the alleyway, I ponder exactly what happened to me during the ten years I was in the dark void. By now, I have come to the conclusion that I haven’t aged. My hair and beard haven’t grown, I haven’t gained or lost weight, my joints and muscles aren’t sore. But at the same time, my wounds and bruises from the Black Mesa incident seem to have completely healed. None of the clothes I’m wearing are clothes I have ever owned, yet my glasses are the ones I had on me during the Black Mesa disaster. The ones I managed not to lose throughout all the perils I faced and were cracked and stained with blood by the end, but now rest on my face clean and unscathed.

My memories of the void are a blur, like a distant dream. If it weren’t for the radically changed world I find myself in, I would think it never happened. On top of that, my memories from before the void have also gone blurry – or, rather, before Black Mesa. I can remember Black Mesa like it was yesterday, but my life before Black Mesa (MIT, high school, my parental home…) feels like a vaguely remembered childhood memory, even the things that happened when I was well over twenty. Is this his doing? Is he trying to erase the person I was, only to leave a mindless fighting machine in his stead? Or is it merely a result of the deterioration of a mind over the course of ten years of isolation?

I’m no longer walking between apartment buildings. The streets are narrow and the walls are all brick and pipes and steel beams. Steam rises from grates in the ground and mixes with the faint fog that hangs between the buildings. There is a constant whir of machinery coming from behind the walls. A train passes overhead on the elevated tracks while a lone Combot combs the empty streets. I try my best to stay out of its sight. The train sounds its horn. The Combot rounds a corner. I get the impression the sky has gotten even darker since I left the station.

A strange contraption stands lonely on the sidewalk. It’s a cylindrical tank filled with red liquid, cradled in a humming machine with green gauge lights and power cables running into the wall behind it. Like all other Combine technology, it looks extremely out of place, like someone just dropped it on the street and punched jagged holes into the wall to fit the cables. The Combine clearly plant their machines and facilities wherever they need them without a care for whatever was there before. It makes me angry, of course, but the irony doesn’t escape me. After all, it’s exactly what we did on Xen.

There is a silhouette in the dark liquid. Vaguely humanoid, curled up into a fetal position. I can just about discern a large red eye, half-closed, on the creature’s head. Even through the thick liquid, the shape appears… familiar. It seems impossible to believe, but it almost looks like…

“The Freeman.”

The voice behind me startles me and I spin around. Before me stands a green, hunched over figure with shackles around its long neck, wrists and ankles. All of its red eyes are on me and a vestigial third arm extends itself towards me. If there was any doubt about the creature in the tank, here it is unmistakable: I am standing in front of a Vortigaunt.

“At last, the Combine’s reckoning has come.”

Chapter 3

_________________________________

Yes, you read this right: chapter 2 of Anticitizen, which has been in production since July 2020, is finally finished! And boy, is it a long one! 4000 words, and yet we still haven't even gotten to Dr. Kleiner's lab! (Don't worry, we'll get there soon).

Anywho, here are the accompanying images:

Beta Citadel

Combot

Metropolice officer

Combine Guard synth

Industrial district

Vorti-cell

I'm very excited to finally have this done and ready to be read. I think (and really hope) the next chapter won't take as long. As I said in the last progress update, I have been doing a lot of overarching planning for the story which will make writing easier.

I have made a rough estimate of the story and predict it will be about 32 chapters long, though it's much more likely to be more than that than less, judging from the fact that it's taking 3 chapters just to get to Kleiner's lab. The thing is, you can't predict the length things will have in this story by looking at their length in the game. The opening requires a lot of describing and mood-setting so it's much longer than the short intro in the game. Story parts will be longer than they are in the game, while action parts will be shorter than they are in the game (looking at you, 'Canals' and 'Highway' sections).

By the way, I have started uploading Anticitizen to Reddit now under the name EthanLM427. Do with that what you want.

Anyway, that's it for me. I promise I won't take as long for the next one.

#anticitizen #half life #half life 2 #half life 2 beta #my writing #fanfiction #gordon freeman #barney calhoun

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guigz1-coldwar · 3 years

Text

Looking for our answers......

Special one-shot :

Zasha, along with Lazar and Park, is trying to find more about themself as they're going after Perseus but Zasha discover a strange transmission.....

A scrapped idea that came back to life, thanks a lot for@hauer77-and-dream

Words : 5700+

----------------------------

Zasha never wanted to use that name anymore !

During weeks, they were named 'Bell' when they were inside Adler's team. Weeks where Zasha never thought that they were in fact a Perseus agent brainwashed by the CIA......by the man we called Russell Adler. Weeks where they lived a live that they thought to be true and now, the sad reality striked them. They helped Adler by revealing the location of Perseus and thanks to them, they saved Western Europe from Perseus & Greenlight but even with that heroic action, they never thought of the fate Adler deserved to them. Both went to a cliff and Adler chosed this place to dispose of Zasha because they knew too much about the CIA's evil doings and the threat Zasha could have done in the future but Adler make a mistake.

He did this without been aware that Zasha was seen like a human being by the others and they were going to be sure that Adler didn't succeed in this plan : Lazar & Park. They couldn't let Zasha die here on that cliff, they didn't deserve that. Park & Lazar did this because not only they wanted to make amends with Zasha after what happened to them but they realized that Zasha was so kind to them and became a great friend for them. When Adler left the cliff, leaving a dying Zasha on it, Park & Lazar arrived in time to save them from their death and they were able to save them and went into hiding with Park leading the trio.

The first thing that Zasha wanted to do was to get rid of the name that was theirs during weeks, they couldn't keep it because they were given them bad memories from Adler and that's not something they will have wanted to keep anyways. They weren't 'Bell' anymore because for them, that day on that cliff, 'Bell' was the one to die......'Bell' died to let Zasha be reborn. The first few days were a little difficult because they didn't have a proper name until they remembered their true name : Zasha Smirnov ! From that day, they decided it was time for them to rediscover their old life while working with Park & Lazar on the hunt of Perseus.

They were now an complete stranger of their own life and they will do everything to remember it even if it take days, weeks and months to make that happen. All they really wanted was to get rid of these fakes memories they have in their head given by Adler, deleting them for good. After finding their names, they discovered a lot more about themselves : they were supposed to defect to the West just before the Trabzon's events and they had a brother named Dedov and it was just the beginning. Park, still leading the little group, brought them back to West-Berlin but this time, in a little MI6 safehouse far away from the old safehouse, avoiding for sure, CIA's attention on them.

When they arrived in that safehouse, Zasha decided to be fully active on the hunt of Perseus instead of letting just Park & Lazar doing the job while they are staying back in that safehouse. Thanks to their cryptography skills, they were given the necessary tools by Park to work : a radio, papers and a pen and the same day, they started their job. Thanksfully, they succeeded to find out about the transmissions and communications of Perseus but unfortunately, they were only a very little helpful intel that could help them progress in their fight.

Two days after their arrival in West-Berlin, they were still in needs of answers against Perseus but nothing was really helping them a lot even those communications Zasha was decrypting all day. At the end of the afternoon, Zasha was still working on trying to decypher encrypted messages when Park arrived at their side, a cup of coffee in hand.

"Something for you, Zed." She handed over the cup to them, giving an smile.

"Oh, thanks, Park." They said, removing a part of the headset they had on top of the head before taking the cup in their hands "I see that you made my favorite." They added, looking at the content of the cup

"Yeah, you can also thanks Lazar." She replied, taking a seat next to Zasha "If I was the one to remember what type of coffee you liked, Lazar was the one to buy it." Zasha grinned, amused by that.

"I will thank him...." They started before taking a sip from their coffee "If he stop throwing stuff at me while my back is turned."

"Well, you will have to wait because you're doing that too." She exclaimed, smirking at them

"He started !" Zasha affirmed, giving a look to Park "So, he will stop first."

"Oh my god." She put her hand on her face, fainting desesperation "I'm really in charge of two kids." She then removed her hands from her face, putting them on her legs

"Where is he, by the way ?" Zasha asked to her, they didn't see for a large part of the day

"Checking some old intels we have on Perseus, he will...."

"Are we talking about me while I'm not around ?" A voice could be hear, arriving in the room. Zasha and Park could discover Lazar, leaned against a door frame, looking at them with crossed arms. "You talking nice about me, right ?" He added, raising an eyebrow

"Of course, we are." Park affirmed, giving a good look at him

"We were talking about you, harrasing me by throwing things at me." Zasha laughed, looking at him. Park rolled her eyes from hearing that,

"Don't start, you two." She muttered, resisting to put her head inside her hands again.

"I'm not doing anything !" Lazar exclaimed before looking at Zasha "You found something, Zed ?" He asked, removing himself from the door frame to get next to Park.

"The usual !" Zasha replied, their eyes on the paperwork they have done for the day "They're still talking about the recents events and their moves to reorganize themselves after Solovetsky." They breathed, having found only a little intel in all of these papers. "I've maybe found something about an important warehouse used by Perseus but they are very evasive about its location." They gave to Park and Lazar the paper in question

"Even if it's only a small part of intel, that warehouse can be our next objective." Lazar spoke up, staying positive about the situation

"Yes but if Perseus don't talk about a little hint that could help us to find that warehouse, it's going to be long." Park added before putting the paper back on the table

"I know, I'm doing my best to....." Zasha started to said before they could start to hear an transmission through their headsets. Once they heard it, they quickly put back on them and start to listen to the transmission that was repeating multiples times. Park & Lazar stayed close to Zasha, thinking that it's maybe something that could really help them to get a strong lead on Perseus. They started to see that there were something different by the look of Zasha. "That's weird !" They whispered to themselves.

"What's weird ?" Park asked

"It's a different code from the other messages I decrypted and it's not looking like something from Perseus." Zasha replied briefly, focused on trying to decypher that message

"You can do it ?" Lazar stayed next to Park as Zasha nodded to his question.

"I can, it's more easier and......" Zasha started, writing the message on an empty paper but they cut themselves when they were done to write. By looking at what they wrote, they were stressed out by their own writing and they couldn't believe it. They slowly removed their headsets at their face were becoming all white. Zasha looked at Park and Lazar, their arms shaking because of that message. They had just one question in head. "Is this.....is this real ?"

"What's wrong ?" Park got up next to Zasha, trying to know what happened

"Look.....look." Zasha repeated, giving the paper to the two, trembling. They couldn't look at them as Park & Lazar started to read the message they decrypted and both realized what did put Zasha in that state of panick,

Meet me alone at the Sunny Diner at the evening, there's things to talk about, Zasha. I'm an old friend.

Bell

"What the hell is this ?" Lazar asked, stunned by that transmission

"I don't know but it's very strange." Park exclaimed by looking at the paper "Zasha, you're sure that is what you heard ?" She added, looking at Zasha and getting close to them

"Yes...I'm not making a joke here." Zasha affirmed, putting their hands on the table. "This transmission is signed by that name."

"Bell." Lazar said that name "That's impossible."

"Did I was the only survivor that day ?" Zasha asked, knowing that the two will find out about which day they're talking about

"Yes, you were the only one, no one else did make it." Lazar replied, having checked that intel long time ago

"Damnit, what if Adler was so sick in this mind to have hidden to us another survivor and to brainwash them too ?" Park was so shocked by that news that she could only believe that it was something planned by Adler, knowing his acts

"And to call them Bell too ?" Lazar told her, biting his lips "The CIA would have been aware of that and I didn't hear anything about another survivor."

"That person....claimed to know me well." Zasha was reading that piece of paper in hands "But why Bell ?"

"It could be either a setup from the CIA or from Perseus." Park replied as Zasha was putting the paper away next to Park.

"Wait, let me check something." Lazar moved to get the paper, wanting to check something "That place..." He started, putting his finger on what he was talking about "It was an typical american diner in West-Berlin outside the city next to the limits of the GDR territory."

"What do you propose ?" Park asked, looking at him with an raised eyebrow

"You want me to go there, right ?" Zasha responded, knowing exactly what Lazar was going to propose "I know it could be a trap but we need to try."

"Zasha, are you sure of what you just said ?" Park wasn't so sure about this, it was suicidal for her to do that.

"Well, you can watch me meeting that mysterious person while you watch me from afar to make sure that nothing disturbed that metting." They admitted, Park & Lazar looked at each other for a few seconds before looking at Zasha again.

"It can work." Park told, realizing that it could help Zasha with their personal lifes, along with Lazar "You go there and we keep a eye on the meeting."

"Well, since this meeting is this evening, it's better that we get prepared." Lazar exclaimed, putting his hand on Zasha's shoulder before walking away out of the room.

After that, the trio decided that they needed to attend that meeting and they went their separate ways to prepare that little unpredicted operation they just had in hands. Zasha stayed on their chair for some minutes having gained so much questions inside of them : Why this transmission was found inside Perseus's communications channels ? Why this person wanted to meet only them and not the other ? Why this person claimed to be an old friend ? And above these questions, one was getting into Zasha more important : Why this person was using 'Bell' as a name to sign that transmission ?

They thought that this name was going to be forgotten in a matter of days and now, it was back in their life again. They were thinking about what Park was first saying about that : it could be maybe a trap from the CIA, having found out that Zasha was still alive, hidden by Park and Lazar or it could be a trap for Perseus to 'save' them from the Americans. The second option was more believable for Zasha as it was an transmission found inside Perseus's communications channels. They have maybe found out about what happened to Zasha and they could have used that name to lure them back to Perseus.

For Zasha, it was all feeling like an trap to go in but it was too late to back down : Park & Lazar were preparing the materials for that kind of operation and since Zasha give their approval for that, it was impossible to change their minds. They will have to go to that meeting anyways. Once their mind were cleared off, they got up from their chair and joined their room to prepare themselves for encountering an person who claimed to be 'a old friend'. They quickly took a shower and changed their clothes and once it was done, they stayed on their bed, blank stare until the time was come for them.

The evening came as the meeting was planned in an typical american diner in the outskirts of West-Berlin, Lazar checked that intel multiples times as Park was planning everything in case of troubles. After everyone was prepared including Zasha, it was time for them to go. They leaved this little safehouse and they were on their ways to the Sunny Diner, wondering what will happen during that evening. Zasha was very nervous of that situation even if they know that Park & Lazar will watch them closely as the mysterious person asked Zasha to come alone.

Lazar was the one to drive until they arrived on the parking of the diner, he parked the car in a safe distance from the diner and he was ready to watch Zasha make their moves,

"You're okay, Zasha ?" He asked, looking at Zasha on the backseats

"No, I'm damn nervous, right now." Zasha replied, looking outside at the diner, their hands were shaking. "I guess that's too late to call the meeting off ?" They asked, naive

"Take a deep breath, Zed." Park looked at them with an recomforting smile "You know that we have our eyes on you." She then looked at their jacket "And you're armed in case." She added, she gave them a M1911 that they hid inside their jacket

"And if things go out of hands, we will intervene quickly." Lazar exclaimed as he has prepared some guns that was just next to Zasha's seat. "So, go in there, it's okay."

"Ok, I'm doing it before you threw something at me." Zasha joked at him, trying to calm themselves, causing Lazar to laugh and Park to roll her eyes in desesperation again.

"Good luck, Zed." Park said with an low voice as Zasha got out of the car.

"Thanks." They replied, closing the car's back door before walking to the diner.

It was just an nervous impression invading Zasha's body right now, it was the first time that they are going alone to do something while Park and Lazar stayed back to keep an eye on them but it was just stress in their body right now. Walking towards that restaurant was something very difficult to do but something still able to be done nonetheless. Zasha was able to calm themselves down before arriving in front of the door leading inside the diner but stress was still there.

They put their hands on the door, hesitating to open that door but finally determined and nowhere to step back, they entered the diner and took a look around : they were not a lot of people in that diner : some people at the counter awaiting to be served their burgers or something else and the only waitress who were taking commands from those sitting on the tables. When they were inside the diner, no one took a look to see who was coming inside, all focused on themselves.

Zasha realized by looking around that the person waiting for them wasn't there as the others people were regrouped in small groups. They looked around to try to find an lonely person but no one was fitting this description. They could only go to a table in Park & Lazar's sight awaiting for that person to arrive. They spotted a table on their right away from the others and fitted to have a peaceful conversation in case and they decided to go sit at that table.

They walked along the room to go sit at that particular table and they sit on it. They preferred to be able to look at Park & Lazar position meaning that they wouldn't be able to check who was entering the diner. When Zasha was sit, they checked everything on them in case : their gun, money & their mind in case. A little listening device was envisaged but Zasha preferred that it would be better to not make that mysterious stranger getting so suspicious. Zasha waited for 5 longs minutes, alterning between looking outside and their watch, stamping their foots until the waitress arrived at their table.

"Hi." The waitress started, she was standing next to Zasha and she indeed surprised them as they were looking outside, putting a little scare in them

"Oh, I...I didn't hear you coming." Zasha said, surprised as they looked at her

"It's okay." She smiled at them before preparing her notebook "Would you like to order something ?" She asked as Zasha was choosing what they wanted

"Yeah...uhm...I.... "

"They will take a cup of coffee." A feminine voice arrived behind Zasha, causing the waitress and Zasha to look around and discover who talked : it was a dark redhead woman with a british accent, wearing some clothes looking russian & a black backpack and a scar at the side of the head, surprising Zasha. "It's what they like." The woman added

"You're their friend ?" The waitress asked, curious

"Yes, an old friend." The redhead woman replied before walking to sit in front of Zasha "I will take the same thing as them." She added fully seated, Zasha was now in front of that mysterious stranger who wanted to meet them. The waitress left, leaving Zasha alone with that mysterious woman.

"Who are you ?" It was the first question Zasha asked.

"I'm Yirina Grigoriev." She replied, having one of her arms along the seat "It's strange to actuatlly see you."

"Why, do we know each other ?" Zasha was getting curious and that was the only thing that they had in mind

"No." Yirina simply responded as Zasha prepared one of their arms under the table for their gun in case.

"But you said that you were an old friend of me !" They exclaimed, keeping their voice down

"I know." She said with a straight look, Zasha was thinking that they fell into a trap and took their gun silently below the table.

"Who are you working for ?" They asked, leaning forwards from their seat, an arm on the table, the other under it. "CIA ? Perseus ?"

"Neither of these two." She breathed before rolling her eyes. "You can put your gun back into your jacket, Zasha." She told them before sniffing

"But....."

"I heard the click of your gun : A M1911 pointed at my chest." She said, conscious of that. Zasha wasn't so silent when they took out their gun "And besides, I'm not here to harm you....and the waitress is coming with our coffees." She looked behind Zasha as the waitress was indeed coming towards them with cup of coffee in hands. She give them their coffee and then, leave them alone as Zasha pull their gun back inside their jacket.

"But who are you then ?" Zasha asked, getting their hands on their cup of coffee

"Someone who was shot and left for dead." She looked at them with a serious look, her arms back on the table

"Like me ?" They whispered "You were there that day at Trabzon."

"Exactly, shot by Arash Kadivar." Her voice sounding angered by saying that name.

"You were that driver ?" They tried to figure it out

"No, I wasn't the driver, I was Perseus lead cryptographer." She replied, surely of her and gaining Zasha incomprehesion because they were THE Perseus lead cryptographer.

"That's impossible." Zasha put their cup on the table, Yirina didn't even touch her coffee for the moment. "Why Bell ?" They asked, weirdly changing the subject

"I'm Bell." She responded before taking a deep breath "I was brainwashed by Russell Adler too."

"Damnit." Zasha looked outside in shock "He's really sick to do that to two person." They looked back to her "Right ?"

"Listen, there's something that I never thought that I was going to say in my entire life but....." She stopped herself before taking a deep breath again,

"I'm not from that universe !"

She said it with the most serious voice she could ever have done and Zasha couldn't believe a word from it but then, they spotted some tears coming out of Yirina's eyes, starting to realize that this was all the reality she just said. Was she really serious ? Zasha asked to themself but given her look, her gesture, she was saying the whole truth. She then opened her backpack that she put next to her but she didn't take a thing inside before looking back to Zasha.

"You're not the only person who's searching about their own life." She looked at her backpack "I am too."

"That's....." Zasha cut themselves, speechless

"Weird ? I know." She replied, grinning a little "I lived the same thing as you : I was shot and left for dead at Trabzon, brainwashed by Russell Adler......and again, left for dead at Solovetsky."

"It was the same thing ?" They asked, worried

"Yes, on that cliff, saying that I needed to make another sacrifice before shooting me." She then pointed her scar at the side of her head before taking her cup in hands "That what the bullet he deserved to me did."

"It's hard to tell that we both thought to live normally after that but Adler is the same everywhere." Zasha exclaimed, crossing their arms "And what happened after that ?"

"You were lucky to have Park & Lazar coming at your rescue." She stopped herself, looking outside "Me, no one came."

"No one ?" They repeated

"Park was supposed to come with us in the mission but Adler changed the plans and decided to let her at the extraction point." She looked down at her cup "And Lazar.....Laz' died at Cuba."

"No." Zasha was surprised to hear that, they first thought that everything was the same in each universe but now, it was so different.

"I saw him die at my eyes as Park was in my arms, pulled off the ground by that plane." She was sounding sad by telling that "That's why no one come."

"But you survived, right ?" Zasha told her

"Yeah.....at the price of spending 3 years in a coma." She raised an eyebrow, looking at the ceilling of the diner, her eyes looking moved "I know that in this world, we're in 1981 but there's things I can't explained myself."

"And....what happened after ?" They asked, not sure of their own question, shocked by each answers she gave them

"I woke up in Moscow in March 1984 and two days after that, I was able to get out of the Soviet Union thanks to Belikov if you remember him well where the CIA is helping me to get back to West-Berlin." She responded before putting her cup on the table, half-empty and then took something in her bag "I did all of this....for her !" She put a picture on the table : it was a picture of Park signed 'For Bell' behind it

"Park ?" Zasha looked at the photo, it was Park but not the one they know "What do you mean ?"

"In my universe, we fell in love and when I learned that I spent 3 years in a coma, my first goal was to come back to her !" She said with an moved voice before looking outside and surprisly, she was looking at where Park & Lazar were parked "Damn, it's hard to see her even she's not the one I know."

"It's really hard for you." Zasha told her, their hands still around their cup as Yirina took the picture back into her bag

"She was so close to me, she believe in me and I'm thinking the same about her." She added with an small smile "I see that in here, she's with Lazar." She saw the two together in that car and guessed right "Is Lazar throwing stuff at you too ?" She said with a laugh

"Yeah." Zasha laughed too "He took me by surprise each time by doing that."

"At least with me, he was saying each time he was doing that." She added, laughing again before she gain her straight face back "He was a good friend with me, he was the only one at that time who approved my relation with Park."

"Adler's orders to keep it professional ?" Zasha guessed right and she nodded,

"Yeah but I was so happy to be with her.....and Adler tried everything to break us apart." She sighed

"But now, you're back alive and ready to see her again and....." Zasha started to said before something crossed their mind "But, how did you end up in my universe ?" They asked to her,

"I was travelling with the CIA teams charged to take me to West-Berlin and for that, we had to take shelter at some CIA safehouse and the night before we were on our way to join another safehouse in East-Germany, something weird happened when I was alone in a bedroom they gave me."

"What happened ?" They said, very curious

"Something like a portal appeared to me and.....I was surprised when I saw Park and another woman called Samantha Maxis if I'm right. They were both strange as Park had two differents eyes colors : one purple and the other was blue as normal. That 'Samantha' had her both eyes purple." They were nothing that could have surprised Zasha anymore, they could believe anything right now since that Yirina gave them proof of their real identity "They said to me that I wasn't the only one in my state and they decided to show me that by sending me here."

"That's strange." Zasha looked outside

"Once I arrived here, they guided me to make sure I'm contacting you, they talked about you and I knew that the only way to have you come here was to use.....'Bell' as my name." Yirina knew well of Zasha's opinion on 'Bell'

"Yes, I don't want to be called that name anymore. I'm Zasha now." They exclaimed, sure and proud.

"I think it's time for me to leave." She then got up from her seat, taking her backpack "We will finish our discussion outside" She put some money on the table, enough for both of them, before she wait for Zasha to finish their coffee and to get up before walking out of the diner. They stepped outside, staying next to the front door. "You know, I have an friend called Zasha Smirnov in my universe."

"Really ?" Zasha was surprised to hear that

"Yeah, you look like them and you're sharing a big obsession for coffee." Both laughed from that "And now, I'm like you."

"Meaning ?" They raised an eyebrow

"I'm trying to find out who I am and what was my old life before someone decided to shoot us and another person to brainwash us." She spreaded her arms, meaning to look around "They're not just only the two of us who were called 'Bell'." She looked back at Zasha "There's plenty of them : all of them suffering the same fate as us, all of them trying to find out who they are !"

"A lot of people that didn't deserve that." Zasha admitted "People that don't deserve to die by the hands of Adler."

"Yes, that Park and Samantha Maxis, they said to me that.....they're the one giving to these peoples a chance to stand for and to find out about themselves." She affirmed "They intervened in our respectives world to save us."

"But why are they doing this by the way ?" Zasha asked

"I don't know but at least, they're giving us a way to redeem ourselves for what we have done for Perseus." She responded, looking at her feets before looking at a direction leading behind the diner. "Follow me." She ordered as she walked into the direction she was looking at. Zasha complied and followed her until they arrived behind the diner, away from the sight of everyone.

"What are we doing here ?" Zasha questioned her "They're going to pick you up, right ?"

"Exactly, since I was able to talk to you, my mission here is completed and I can focus back on finding the Park I love again." She smiled at them "You know, between everyone who are facing the same situation as us, we all share an common thing."

"Which is...." Zasha started to said

"Even if we are saying that we don't want to be Bell anymore, there's still something that will make us remember that inside of us, Bell will stay forever." She admitted "We can move on, have a normal life but 'Bell' is a name that will stay in our mind."

"I don't know, that name, it's not mine, Yirina." Zasha exclaimed, staying true to the first they have done "I can't keep it."

"I know but I meaned that we have memories that isn't belonging to us, memories that we shouldn't possess." She put her hands on their shoulders "Those memories can't be removed at all from us, that what is making us 'Bell' !"

"We're all still getting memories from Vietnam, you're right." Zasha said, realizing that even if they had recovered their full name and everything, Adler's memories are still inside of them.

"It's the sad truth but that is something that we will keep for life and we can't remove them." She told them before something started to happen at their side.....something like a portal appear in front of their eyes, meaning that it was time for Yirina to leave this world.

At this moment, two persons came out of the portal. First, it was the Park Yirina talked about and she was saying the truth : Zasha could see that there were two different eyes color in her and then it was the turn of this Samantha Maxis to come out of the portal...both eyes were purple like Yirina said. The two women standed next to the portal, not saying a thing, smiling and awaiting for Yirina to say goodbye to Zasha.

"I wanted to have more time to talk with someone like you." Zasha said, moved

"I know." Yirina replied before putting her arms around Zasha to hug them. Zasha reciprocated by putting their arms around her "Good luck on finding your answers and to define your own path for your redemption." She added

"Me too, good luck on finding your answers too." Zasha responded and then the two broke the hug as Yirina started to walk slowly towards the portal, her eyes filled by tears "Goodbye, Yiri." Zasha exprimed, giving an smile to Yirina after giving her that name,

"Goodbye, Zed !"

Then, Yirina walked inside that portal, disappearing from Zasha's sight as Park and Samantha Maxis were going to follow her until they both looked at Zasha who didn't know what to do but they gave them a smile before the two womens joined their hands together and finally walked inside the portal and once they were gone, the portal disappeared for good, leaving Zasha alone behind that diner. They were so happy but also shocked after all these revelations, they couldn't cry and they resisted. Then, they started to hear some footsteps running towards them : it was Park & Lazar.

"Zasha, you're okay ?" Lazar asked, panicked, an pistol in his hand "We saw you following that woman and we thought she was going to kill you."

"She didn't do anything to you ?" Park added, also an gun in hand, Zasha was inside of them amused but they couldn't show it

"No, I'm okay." Zasha reassured them. "She was good." They smiled

"Where is she ?" Lazar told them "And also, who is she ?"

"She was.....she was an friend." They replied, needing to lie because they couldn't tell both everything that happened, both would see Zasha as crazy "Like me, she's trying to find answers like me."

"But where is she, then ?" Park asked again

"She preferred to go on her own ways." Zasha responded, looking away "She wanted to find her redemption."

"Damnit." Lazar put his hand around his waist "She was someone inside Perseus's group ?"

"Yes, but she preferred to go alone. I told her that I could have helped her but she insisted to do it alone. She then gave me some last goodbye before leaving." Zasha looked back at Park & Lazar

"You were close to them as I can see." Park said, seeing Zasha's face

"Yes, she was close to me in an way but not as you think." They grinned, seeing Lazar smile "I think it's better that we return to the safehouse." They then start to have some tears falling on their face and unfortunately, Park & Lazar saw it.

"What's wrong ?" Lazar said, getting next to them

"It's just so hard for me." They started to cry, cleaning up the tears on their faces.

"Don't worry, we're here for you." Park got next to Zasha, putting her hands on their shoulders "Come on, Zed. Let's go back to the safehouse." The trio then started to walk away from the scene to get back to the car, Park staying next to Zasha, recomforting them.

She installed them in the backseats staying with them as Lazar drove off the place to return to the safehouse. Zasha was crying because they never thought that to happen to be honest. They never thought that they weren't the only person having an existential crisis as other people like them were facing the same situation. 'Bell' was certainely a name that Zasha never wanted to use again but Yirina told them that even if they tried so hard to forget it, something will always brought up that make them not able to forget about that name and what the CIA has done to them. People also called 'Bell' and Yirina Grigoriev was an name that Zasha was going to remember forever even if they meet her just for a few moments. This few minutes showed enough to Zasha that everyone like them are trying to find their ways to know who they really are inside of them.

Everyone is looking for their owns answers......And their way to their redemptions !

#black ops cold war #bocw #call of duty cold war #cod black ops cold war #cod cw #cod cold war #fanfic #one-shot #fem!bell #nb!bell

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