this time she's not running her tongue along nomi's skin to stave off angry thoughts. inner turmoil has completely fucked off, once and for all (never gone, always under the surface, always in her shadow, always behind her), and she's skirting a high from those three magic words. 

three words she knew nomi was gonna say right back to her, but that blew her fucking mind all the same. it's catching up to her now, as she tears off nomi's cozywear and strips her bare, as she kisses everywhere she can above and below her collarbone (especially below her collarbone). 

nomi thinks it and parker says it with every heated breath, every twist of her wrist, curl of her fingers, stroke of her tongue. melding of their lips and flesh and soul. hours, hours, hours, of nothing but her. 

"nomes," she groans, teeth bare on her neck, fingers twined in long hair, "i love you so much i'll even move in the sub with you."

Naomi Sato

☉

this is real. this is love. she is gripped so suddenly by the gravity of the confession and after they're teleported back home in an instant, she refuses to let go. and she keeps not letting go, always touching in some way, despite the shedding of over and undergarments. 

then nomi says something that makes parker blue-screen.

they're surrounded by four walls. it's a shithole apartment - more of a closet - but it's her shithole apartment and parker's first thought, when she recovers - and dumbly enough - is, i don't wanna live in the sub. 

she says that, actually. in a rush: "i don't wanna live in the sub."

and then, "duh, wait, 'course we're not gonna live in the sub. yeah. fuck, wherever you want, s'long as there's a couch 'n a bed 'n a sunny spot for maisey."

steely blue stares adoringly down at flustered cheeks, full lips, and she hears it again - i am undone with you. and she licks her lips, brows furrowing slightly in confusion. she asks, "are you wearing strawberry chapstick?" but doesn't give her enough time to answer because it's lovely and she wants more, more, more. 

Naomi Sato

☉

when she makes up her mind, she fucking makes up her mind. there's no looking back now. all she's got is this girl in her arms and all she's got is everything. she doesn't think - not even for a moment - that nomi won't say those words right back to her. even if parker spent the last thirty minutes making her cry.

everything's blurry now and she knows exactly what she needs to do. nomi's arms come 'round her neck and she hugs her closer, hip to hip, hands digging greedily into her sides 'cause no gods or demons or whatever the hell else hoenn wants to throw at them will ever get between 'em again. 

she'll play pattycake with Isaac Merlo if nomi asks her to. she'll spit on Cillian Quinn 's boots if nomi asks her to. she'll even - oh, tongue? 

she'll take her right here, right now if nomi asks her - 

no, wait, that's a felony. 

"okay," she says, more of a growl, not entirely comprehending. teethes her lip as gently as she can. she doesn't know what that means. it's always been real. this has always been for real. and there are a lot of other very real things parker wants to do to her now too.

"tell krispy kreme to take us home. now."

Naomi Sato

☉

parker gets too sentimental. she gets too into the women she wants. like yumi. like mags. like dav. like every fucking harlot who looks at her with a cheeky smile and a promise of another tomorrow. and sometimes, when nomi's fast asleep in her arms, she's wide fucking awake thinking, this can't be real. she can't want me like this. 

not when everyone else had some new and interesting way to basically say FUCK OFF and LEAVE ME ALONE. she's a good lay. she's not girlfriend material. it's not her, it's them. she's too desperate. she's too much. she's too stupid. she doesn't get it.

what the hell's an angel of god need with a shitstain like her? 

but nomi's undone without her and fuck being scared. fuck being too much. fuck her anger; she's got enough of it as it is and it's not worth it if it's gonna make her end up losing the one thing that doesn't make her angry (most of the time). 

she twists. she roughly grabs nomi by the hips, stares her down, nose to nose, and says, "i love you, nomi sato, and fuck it - you can piss off all the rest of the world and i'll be there by your side, fightin' 'em off for you. you're my end, whatever happens."

Naomi Sato

☉

one day, she'll get used to feeling useless. fuck, she's felt useless ever since she let avery jones down. it was too much to expect of a kid her age, but she was the eldest. their parents were shit and she was the eldest and it was her job to make sure shit kept together. that they stayed together. 

and they did, in the end, but that's only 'cause they lost everything. the house. their parents. she signed to rocket to keep them together, to keep avery out of the shitstorm, but you can't control storms. unless you're a god.

and the jones don't get to make pacts with divinity.

"if i can't protect you, then what the fuck do you need me for, nomi?" she snaps. 

she bristles. 

you knew, she tells herself. you knew it the whole time. you knew it deep fucking down.

she wished it wasn't true.

her hands come down hard on either side of her, shoving her back up, filling her with a heat that she could never, ever get rid of. no matter how many hours. no matter how much pain, that insidious fucking fury lives on, and it runs rampant through her blood and in her eyes right now. 

whoever'd been eavesdropping turns away in full or skedaddles as parker roars. 

"you think rocket gives a flying FUCK if the world ends? you're playing god among power-hungry murderers. how long 'til they don't trust you? how long 'til the league starts seeing you less an asset and more a target?"

and that last bit, the final straw - i can take you to the strongest people i know, on the other side. they'll protect you.

"I. DON'T. NEED. PROTECTING!"

and softer, somehow angrier: "i don't want to lose you."

Naomi Sato

☉

looking at the ground helps keep her steady. it helps keep her angry. it's hard enough to hear nomi's voice start to get thick, sinuses swelling as tears rim her lower lashes. doesn't help that parker can picture the pain though. she's good at that. picturing faces in pain. 

gods knows she's stared into enough of them.

"i'm not mad you love them," she says flatly and the narrowing of her eyes betrays her. i'm mad you love them more. 

and telling her she knows she can be killed makes it worse. she's still going out and risking her life - their life. she shrugs forward, puts her head in her hands, fingers spreading through pink locks. 

"ya don't need me. not to protect you, nomes. and not to help ya through all this, evidently. 'cause you've got isaac. and fuckin' rocket. i mean - are you gonna tell me where you've been goin'? when you're not in your office? think i don't notice when you're not telling me something?"

and how she knows how to read this woman like the back of her hand is insane. it doesn't feel like they've only been together for six months.

"i can't be your puppy dog, waiting for you to come home."

Naomi Sato

☉

"and how are you so sure what you're doin' is gonna save us?" she says bitterly. maybe she's just not cut out for this. maybe she and nomi could work in a perfect world (or one so broken, all that's left is the two of them), but she's nothing here. nothing to nomi and sure as fuck nothing to the rest of the world. 

she's supposed to be nomi's bodyguard. not the other way around. 

"and what? so - so i'm just supposed to be okay with you doing whatever the fuck you want now 'cause you're an avatar? 'cause nothing can touch you? didn't rocket fuckin' rip that one-eyed councilman's avatarship out of his godsdamned head?"

parker jones

☉

sploinky with a mfing sword is something straight out of parker's nightmares. like, literally - pretty sure she woke up in the middle of the night thinking about all the things it was able to do with it. 

"aaaaaves, but you just got back and 'sides, you're great, and i'll even treat us to a fancy schmancy dinner or something." food? she could entice her sister with food, right? the trademark jones kryptonite. 

"but eh, you gotta check in with hq or anything 'fore i text her?" she kicks back her chair, balancing on the back two legs. "you got a place? i'm still on shithole shit street, but you're welcome t' the couch. nomes won't mind."

three bodies (+ maisey) stuffed in her closet of a studio ain't nothing. they've lived through worse. 

avery jones

☉

yeah, shit's fucked. it's fucked if nomi is sending karbonara away to make sure it doesn't 'put her on edge.' and she hates that too. that she's been such a bitch about the damn things that nomi can't even have the eyeballs she adores so much float around her in times of need. 

fuck, i'm a terrible girlfriend.

"fucking, that's not - " she starts angrily and then makes an aggravated sound in the back of her throat. the floor has had enough of her glaring. it's a wonder it hasn't turned to molten lava yet. still, it's at risk, so she stares straight up at the sandbag again. 

her spit is still on it. sweat and spit, still glistening. 

"you're the best godsdamned thing i got, nomes, and it fucking kills me. not that you ran off to isaac when i told ya not to. not that you put me in the one damn position i asked ya not to."

she looks to the side, pained, at nomi. "but that no matter what, i'm always gonna be second. i'm gonna come second to rocket. to saving the world. and more 'an that? you put your own fuckin' safety third.

"it's killing me."

Naomi Sato

☉

her ass is bruised. like, not just the ass. what's it called? the tailbone? that little hard part in the middle, right under the spine? yeah, that shit fucking hurts and she's really feeling it now as she's bouncing on her feet, hitting the bag over and over and over again as hard as she can. 

her knuckles are wrapped 'cause otherwise they'd be bleeding. white over bruised purple (which isn't abnormal, really; they're always in various mosaics of peppercorn). she sees flashes of gold in her vision as she hammers down again, but the brass was kicked under her bed last night. 

maisey's probably chewing on them right now. 

heads turn and the atmosphere shifts. nomi doesn't teleport in, like parker expects, and that makes the dread really settle into her cold, angry heart. 

stupid fucking dragon.

stupid fucking crystals.

stupid fucking avatars. 

stupid fucking caring. 

every poignant thought is enunciated with the slamming of her fists into the bag. spittle gathers at the corner of her mouth. her lungs swell and expel air in rapid succession, until her pink hair is matted over her forehead and sweat beads down her face. 

finally, when she's spent enough to take a break, she haphazardly tosses her towel over her shoulders, snags her water bottle, and shacks up right next to nomi. and stares hard at the ground, mouth a thin line.

Naomi Sato

☉

being sick of everyone's shit.

they fell asleep all tangled up, too exhausted to do anything. definitely too exhausted to talk about it, which is good. and in the morning, when parker wakes up at the ass crack of dawn, she doesn't make coffee. she doesn't cook bacon and eggs.

she shrugs on her jacket, quietly, ignoring maisey's low whines, and shoves her hands in her pockets as the door closes behind her. she scowls down at the ground, ratty gym shoes slapping against wet concrete. the gym's only a few blocks away. part of the reason why she lives in this particular shithole. 

nameless is a further walk and 'sides, she doesn't want to go there. KING WAYLAND's been unbearable ever since his bitch left him. 

part of her feels bad about leaving nomi to wake up to an empty bed, but the other part of her can't take it anymore. yesterday was just too fuckin' much and if she has to sit or stand through another talk, she's going to lose her mind. and anyway, her eyeball freaks can find parker when nomes wakes up. 

and until then, parker gets to punching.

Naomi Sato

☉

settling into domestic life with nomi has been a hell of a lot of fun, but unfortunately the tongue muscles she's been working out in lieu of her cardio are not helping her here. she tried to be as careful and quiet as she could while hauling her ass up the misshapen lumps of crystal. 

but she's no rock climber. 

so the giants eventually noticed her and her glowing, pixelated bestie. valerian's ribbons are currently writhing; psychic power keeps the brunt of their attacks at bay. parker's triceps burn as she pulls herself up. this is the last time she fucking complains about teleportation. what she wouldn't do for a taste of the nausea that comes with it. 

with its friends having little luck getting through valerian's defenses, one of the few abandons them to trot some yards away. parker watches it out of the corner of her eyes, blowing air through her teeth as she stretches her hands up and grasps for leverage on another spike. 

gravity presses on her shoulders. her legs swing, momentum helping her haul up, but halfway through the move, the damn bull charges. her stable ground is lost. the crystal cracks; a fissure snakes up. her stomach leaves her as she starts to fall. 

again. 

valerian, in a panic, has to put down his barrier in an attempt to catch her, but doing so gets him blasted sideways. thankfully, for all parties involved, the iron bull hit the crystal hard and it shakes its head, dazed, at the bottom. 

parker hits the side of its round head. all her bones shudder in protest. she starfishes, scrambles onto its back, and does the first thing she can think of: she starts wailing on it. 

the green and blue ones advance, but their gleaming hooves skid over the ground as a wall of mystical fire separates them from the bucking bronco and its idiot rider. gold glints off chrome. sparks fly. 

"fuck you, fuck you, fuck you." she's scared half to death. the bull starts spinning to get her off. valerian can't do much without risking hitting parker, save for disorienting it with more psychic power. it bucks, back feet lifting off the ground, and parker's knuckles shink over its frontal plates, leaving a nasty line in the orange paint job. 

"hope your insurance covers that," she mutters and goes to hit it again, but it rams her into the crystal she'd just spent the better half of twenty minutes trying to climb. 

her ribs ache. the air wheezes out of her. desperate for a way out, she fumbles with an empty pokeball at her belt. 

...two attempts later, fingers clamped down hard around the damn thing, and she has it. valerian trills, ribbons still flowing around him in agitation. he takes off at a run, looking urgently for parker to follow. 

"you better 've found an exit."

Naomi Sato
post 7 of 7 parker gets iron boulder

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