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jae-writes-fanfiction · 4 years

Note

omgggg im stoked ur on the slasher train now!!! for ur spooky event could you do drabbles for them comforting a really kinda sad s/o??? ik this wasnt on the prompts list but 2020 has been v rough and i just wanna be held 😔

Pick Me Off The Ground

Notes: I ended up writing this for Pelle, The Candyman, Hannibal, Tiffany Valentine, Jennifer Check, and Susie Bannion. It’s been a long ass time since I got a drabbles request, I hope the formatting is okay.

Warnings: Refernces to being sad, I struggle with depression/anxiety so some of the terminology and descriptions I use can be trigger or relate to depression, also they’re all murderers. Enjoy Responisbly ❤️

- - -

Pelle

Your shoulders slumped and you hid your face on the cot trying to muffle the chocked sobs racking through your body. This entire trip was a disaster. You’d woken up that morning with a positive outlook, sure the Hårga wasn’t what you expected. But their beliefs and rituals, although grim, were fascinating as far as anthropology and psychology go. Pelle had shown you around all day, even letting you see pages from their sacred text. But when you got back to the center of town you were confronted by the other angry tourists complaining your friends had taken the only transport and left.

You were embarrassed by their rude behavior, and absolutely heartbroken that they hadn’t cared to wait for you. Members of the Hårga had calmed the other tourists and promised to take them to the airport as soon as possible. You felt utterly alone, and displaced. You froze when you felt a hand on your shoulder, your mind scrambling for an apology to send whoever was there away.

“I’m sorry about our friends,” Pelle said quietly, his voice soothing and remorseful.

You sniffled and sat up, wiping your eyes. “I’ve felt for a while I wasn’t fitting it but I didn’t know...” you bit your lip but couldn’t keep your eyes from welling with tears again.

Pelle sat closer to you, and pulled you into his arms. He didn’t say anything, just let you cry and for the first time in a very long time, it felt like someone truly cared about you. You felt warm, and safe.

- - -

The Candyman (Daniel Robitaille)

Every bone in your body ached, you were exhausted body and soul. Life had gotten to be so draining, so stagnent and empty. Your career felt stale and the late hours impossibly fruitless. You had just enough energy to kick your shoes off and drop your things at the door before collapsing into bed.

At first you were restless, tossing and turning your body unable to relax. Desperately you turned to gaze and whisper at the mirror over your dresser. You knew he didn’t like be summoned without a more malevolent purpose, but you were always the exception. You couldn’t feel his weight on the bed, but you could feel his presence in the room instantly.

You smiled softly as you felt his arms around you. You turned in his arms wishing he could appear in something other than the cloak, although you appreciated the added warmth.

“Daniel,” you whispered pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, you could feel him faintly but the smile on his face was plain enough to lift your spirits slightly.

“Hush, my love. Rest.” His voice, like always, filled the room around you yet at the same time sounded miles away. For a moment you felt as if the burdens weighing you down were just phantoms. In another minute you were asleep, pleasant dreams and your lover beside you keeping you at peace.

- - -

Hannibal Lecter

The rain outside soaked into your jacket as you got home from work. Classical music was already playing as you shucked your jacket and boots off in the mud room. Keeping your head down you walked directly to your room and closed the door. Sometimes when you had a bad day, Hannibal overstepped the line between psycho-killer boyrfriend and professional psychologist. You knew him, and he knew you all your darkest secrets. Yet sometimes when your own mind turned on you for no reason, you didn’t want to come home to another therapist.

You peeled the wet clothes off your body and dug around for your favorite pair of flannel bottom, and that one shirt of his that always ended up in your laundry. The softness of the fabric, the warmth of the flannel, the hint of his aftershave- they were all impossibly small comforts in the wake of what you knew to be a wave large enough to drown in.

Felling a little better you emerged from the non-confrontational sanctuary of your bedroom. You wandered into the living room and curled yourself into the corner of the couch. You picked up a book and turned the pages but the words weren’t sticking. You looked up from the pages, as Hannibal walked into the room carrying a tray.

“It’s your favorite,” he said smiling softly setting the tray down on the end table next to you. The food smelled perfect, the dish was one from your childhood and the drink along with it was your absolute favorite year and type of wine. The pairing was one you had never thought to put together, another glaring example of Hannibal’s particular genius. He sat next to you on the sofa reading quietly. Although it couldn’t fix or change how you felt, it was helpful to know even now, someone cared about you.

- - -

Tiffany Valentine

You were curled up in a ball, the tears still fresh on your face when Tiff got home.

“I swear to god I’ll kill him!” She said looking over your saddened state. Mascara ran down your face, your hair was disheveled and your eyes looked so sad it broke Tiffany’s little black heart clean in two.

Your boss had become a problem. He acted too familiar in private, around other employees he made jokes about your appearance, about your performance, hell he even made fun of your picture of Tiffany once. Nothing was off limits because he was the boss.

“He kept jokin’ during the meeting about firing me,” you said between sniffles, “I’ve worked there for five years I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong.”

She crossed the room quickly to pull you into a hug. “You didn’t do anything wrong hes just a dick,” she said firmly. You laughed, and couldn’t help smiling through the tears as she held you. The soft curves of her body were inviting and promised you nothing would ever hurt you again.

“Now let’s get you all cleaned up we’re going out!” Your protestes were silenced with a quick kiss. “There’s nothing better than a hot date, and a little retail therapy,” she said with a wink pulling you to your feet.

You nodded and let her lead you by the hand back out to the car. Anytime you had a bad day she pulled out all the stops until you were absolutely spoiled and tonight would be no different- except tomorrow morning at work you’d get another present. And Tiffany would add another man to her list of recently deceased assholes.

- - -

Jennifer Check

It was past midnight when your girlfriend came home, covered in blood. It wasn’t an unusual sight but the dress she had been wearig was in tatters and you were certain some of the fluid was hers.

Panic quickly set in, and you ran to her side your hands flashing over her body trying to stop the bleeding. You pulled your shaking hands away, they were covered in dark blood. As She gasped and fainted you ran to catch her and smeared the dark substance over her skin.

As her surprisingly human looking body hit the ground, you woke up. The nightmare made your skin crawl, and you could feel tears streaming down your face. Jennifer, who wasn’t dead yet wasn’t exactly alive, laid next to you.

She lazily threw an arm around you and pulled you closer. “I’m right here,” she mumbled sleepily. You shuddered as she kissed the lines of tears on your face. The gesture made fresh tears threaten to spill over, but you bit your lip and instead snuggled closer into her chest. For now she was there, for now things would be okay. You felt her stroke and play with your hair as you drifted off to sleep.

- - -

Susie Bannion

You stormed through the dormitories, stopping only at your bed. You haphazardly grabbed shirts and linens stuffing them into the suitcase on top of your mattress. If the other girls didn’t think you were up to snuff, that was their problem. You didn’t have to stay.

Your bag was mostly packed when you started biting back tears. You’d worked your whole life for this chance, would you really give up now just because they wanted you too? You didn’t know that answer but you did know something inside you felt broken. Shakily, you sat down on th edge of your bed and held your head in your hands.

“Are you okay?” You quickly looked up and saw Susie standing there her head slightly cocked to the side as she observed your hastily packed case and distraught appearance.

You shrugged helplessly and tried to wipe the tears from your face.

“I don’t belong here,” you said. Your tone sounded like a challenge and Susie wasn’t one to back down. She dropped herself to sit next to you, and started stroking your hair as you began to cry openly.

“You’re the only one that belongs here,” she whispered wrapping an arm around you. You felt her kiss the top of your head, and it was like magic. As if she had chosen you to be her person, and in that moment the world changed and you were no longer an outsider.

#slasher x reader #freakyfics #midsommar #Candyman #nbc hannibal #bride of chucky #jennifer’s body #suspiria 2018 #pelle #the candyman #daniel robitaille #hannibal lecter #human tiffany valentine #Jennifer check #susie bannion

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suitofvibraniumarmor · 4 years

Text

Advancing the Runner

Summary: A day at the ball field with Sebastian leads to an unexpected decision. Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader Word Count: 1665 Warnings: Social drinking. Square Filled: Baseball for @marvelfluffbingo. Challenge: Bolded prompt for @buckys-other-punk‘s 500 Follower Celebration. A/N: I was so excited to get this on my bingo card because I LOVE baseball! I’ll even take the short season we’ve got this year over no baseball at all. Hope you all enjoy this! Happy Reading!

It was finally happening; your favorite part of the year. For months, you waited, watched the highlights, the experts’ predictions, the trades and injuries and any other news you could get your hands on. But today was the best day of the year. Even better than your birthday.

Today was Opening Day.

Sebastian, being the amazing friend that he was and knowing how important this day was for you, had scored seats for the game for the two of you — third row on the third baseline. You had been so excited when he showed you the confirmation on his phone, you squealed and hugged him so tight, he had to ask you to ease up.

He knocked on your door exactly an hour before game time. You were ready to go in your oversized team shirt knotted at the hip, a pair of cute-but-modest denim cutoffs, and your favorite sneakers. With your sunglasses positioned on your head, your phone in one back pocket, and your ID and card and a little cash in your other back pocket, you were set to go.

“You look pretty adorable,” Sebastian greeted, smiling as you hugged him.

You smiled too, and blushed a little. “Well, thanks, Seb. You’re looking boy-next-door handsome today, if I do say so myself.”

“Shouldn’t I look like that everyday? I’m always me.”

“Yeah, but sometimes you’re boy-next-door handsome, sometimes you’re sleepyhead adorable, sometimes you’re runway sexy. Perks of your job, friend, you get all the labels for your looks.”

He chuckled and you could tell he was a little intimidated; he enjoyed what he did but never quite got used to being in the spotlight. He motioned to his car in your driveway.

“Ready to go?”

You nodded, handing him your keys. “Do you mind putting those in your pocket so I don’t lose them?”

“Sure.” Sebastian deposited the keys in his front right pocket, then caught up to you down the front walk, hurrying to open your door for you before you could open it for yourself. He frowned a little. “Are you wearing my shirt?”

You winced a little through your smile. “Maybe? I snagged it last time I was over so I could wear it today. I’m sorry, I really like it and I can’t find it in my size.”

He laughed and shut the door before jogging around to the driver’s side and getting himself settled for the drive to the stadium. Before he pulled out of the driveway, he told you to keep the shirt.

“Looks better on you anyway.”

Your blush returned and you wondered where all the compliments were coming from today. Sebastian was nothing if not encouraging and supportive as far as your friendship went, but something was different today. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, so you shrugged it off and immediately commandeered the radio to find some good tunes for the drive.

“These seats are really amazing,” you breathed, carefully sitting down with a beer in one hand and a hot dog in the other. “I wish you would have at least let me pay for the beer and the food, though. You bought the tickets, you should let me get everything else. These can’t have been cheap seats.”

Sebastian put an arm around you and hugged you to his side, softly kissing your temple — not unusual for your affectionate friendship, but again, something was different about it today.

“Just let me treat you, Y/N/N. I wanted to do this for you.”

You shrugged and took a good gulp of your beer before setting the cup in the holder and diving into your hotdog without any sort of grace. By the time the two teams lined up for the Star-Spangled Banner, you were ready for a second round.

“I’ll go get them,” you offered after everyone was sitting again.

Sebastian only waved you off and told you to sit back down. “You’re gonna miss the beginning of the game, you can’t go. Just relax and enjoy the game, I got you.”

He waited for the first pitch — the actual first pitch, not the one thrown by a celebrity — then got up and went to hunt down a couple more beers. Although you were mostly focused on the game, there was a part of your brain that was beginning to understand something more than a friendly outing was happening here — and, to be honest, you weren’t sure how you felt about that.

Sebastian was a good friend. He was handsome, no doubt about that. He made you laugh, listened when you talked, and paid attention to the details. The baseball game was a perfect example of that. What wasn’t to love about that? Except that love, in that sense, had never crossed your mind when it came to Sebastian. While the game progressed, you thought back over your friendship with Sebastian. There were flirtations, but you had assumed that’s simply how things were between the two of you.

“Y/N? You gonna take this beer or you want me to drink it?”

You had been so lost in thought, you hadn’t realized Sebastian had returned. You took the drink from him and downed half of it in one go. He eyed you suspiciously, but you gave him a smile and nudged him with your shoulder. Was that unintentionally encouraging him, if his thoughts were on the dating track? You mentally told yourself not to overthink and read into every little thing. If you were wrong, then your analyzation could ruin everything.

Would dating Sebastian ruin everything, though?

Stop. It. You took a deep breath and listened to your mind. You were enjoying a baseball game with your good friend; it didn’t have to be more than that. And, if that’s what Sebastian was going for, you would cross that bridge when you came to it.

The rest of the game was actually enjoyable once you chilled out and decided to just enjoy your time. You and Sebastian bantered back and forth as usual, cheered together when the team had some good hits and plays, and drank down a few more beers each.

“Whew! I think it’s safe to say I’m buzzed,” you commented as the two of you filed out of the stadium with the other game-goers. “Do you wanna grab a bite to eat or something? I’ll treat, if you’ll let me.”

Sebastian waved you off. “Today is all on me, Y/N/N. But, yes, let’s go get some food. That hot dog didn’t fill me up at all. The beers didn’t do a bad job, but I need real sustenance.”

You laughed and nodded. “Yes, real sustenance would be good. Where do you wanna go?”

“Um …”

While he was thinking it over, the two of you fell into step with each other. The initial mingling of your hands was accidental, the effect of your proximity to each other — but then Sebastian took a chance and held your hand. The move was no friendly gesture to get you to move a little faster; it was deliberate, purposeful hand-holding.

You stopped in your tracks, which slowed Sebastian down. Your expression must have read concern or question because he let go of your hand and shoved his hands in his pockets. He tried a couple times to get words out, but in the end he just shrugged.

“Is this a date?” you asked quietly. “Be honest.”

He let out a breath. “I mean, I guess I was kind of hoping we could call it that. Doesn’t help if I’m not honest though, huh?”

Now you shrugged. “I could pick up some signals.”

“Yeah. Look, Y/N, I … care about you. Maybe I always have, maybe it’s new but because I know you so well, I feel, I don’t know, further into it. Or something. I don’t expect that you would return that feeling and this isn’t because of anything specific I picked up on that you were doing, okay? I just thought, maybe, we could do this one thing together, kind of like a date, see how we felt about it, and go from there.”

Your bottom lip was going to be sore later if you didn’t stop chewing on it. Sebastian needed a reply from you, but you had to take pause. You pictured a possible future of dating him: sweet text messages, romantic dates, late-night cuddling. You pictured fights and arguments and misunderstandings, but no matter the what-if’s, you could only picture the two of you working it out. When your mind conjured up an image of you and Sebastian within centimeters of each other, lips a hairsbreadth apart, stopped your thoughts and came back to the present.

Reaching out for Sebastian’s hand again, you waited for his fingers to interlace with yours before you stepped right up to him. You were almost flush against him, and he was looking down at you, waiting for your next move. With only a sliver of hesitation in your bones, you pushed up on tiptoe and softly but surely pressed your lips to his. The kiss was meant to be brief, but once you were in it, butterflies erupted in your stomach. Kissing Sebastian was suddenly something you never wanted to stop doing, though you had barely even thought about kissing him before this moment.

His hand came up to cradle your face, his long fingers slightly working their way into your hair. He didn’t press to deepen the kiss, only seemed to be enjoying it for as long as you would let it go on.

Back on flat feet, you took a moment to breathe and process before meeting his eyes again.

“Okay, but if we fight or break up or something, do you promise to still take me to Opening Day every year for the rest of our lives?”

Sebastian chuckled and squeezed your hand. “Yeah, sweetheart. I promise.”

AllOfTheThings: @captain-s-rogers @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @hurricanerin @horsesandbandsforlife @im-not-an-armrest-im-short @captain-rogers-beard @shynara51 @sea040561 @pinknerdpanda @xtina2191 @jackryanplz @beakami @heartsaved @fullprunerebelstatesman @blackwidowismyhomegirl @averyrogers83

#marvelfluffbingo2020 #otherpunks500 #sebastian stan #fanfiction #reader insert #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan x reader #fluff #sebastian fluff #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian x reader fluff #sebastian stan x reader fluff #challenge #bingo #queue and i remember budapest very differently

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theladyofdeath · 4 years

Text

Alone in the Ashes {14}

A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfction, characters belong to Sarah J Maas. Modern au. Revolves around Nesta x Cassian, Feyre x Rhysand, and Elain x Azriel. Other characters appear throughout. Based on multiple prompts sent in by anons tbr below.

Warning: Mature content. Alcohol abuse, verbal abuse, drugs, sex, language, eating disorders.

For summary & chapter index, click > Alone in the Ashes {Acotar}

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Drank margs all day with my mom and im 2 beers in at home....excuse typos lol this chapter is to be continued....

Comment to tell me what you think, or to be tagged! x

“That's everyone's dream, isn't it, really? Instead of many who give you little pieces of themselves-one who gives you everything.” ― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

Mila was sitting in the backseat, knowing they were going to see Amarantha, but not really sure of anything else. Azriel hadn’t known how to explain it to her. She was only four. He was trying to make light of it, even though he hadn’t slept at all the night before.

He hated Amarantha.

But he loved his niece.

“Are we almost there?” she asked, looking out the window.

The prison was on the outskirts of the city, and that, to a toddler, felt like hours.

“Yes,” Azriel said, glancing at the clock.

It was just after ten.

“Excited to see mama?” Azriel asked.

Mila’s voice was soft when she said, “Yes.”

It must have been scary, confusing, going to see your mom after you hadn’t seen her in a while, in a new place. Azriel had told her that they would have to not touch Amarantha, there were to be no hugs, and they wouldn’t be able to stay for long.

Mila was confused.

Azriel tried to ease her confusion but wasn’t successful.

By the time he made it through the gates of the prison, Azriel just wanted it all to be over. He pulled Mila out of the car and held her as he walked through the doors.

They were stopped and searched. They forced Azriel to put Mila down as they searched his person, then they sent Mila through security, looking terrified.

“Alright,” Azriel began, gently, when they were inside. “All done. Now we get to go see mama.”

“Why mama here?” Mila whispered.

Azriel just gave her a smile.

They were led to a big meeting room and told to sit, where inmates were already talking with friends and family. Azriel sat with Mila on his lap at a small, round table, and they waited.

Neither of them spoke.

Even Mila, who loved to talk about anything to anyone, stayed silent.

Amarantha was escorted in five minutes later, dressed in her tan scrubs. She saw Mila, and smiled. Azriel didn’t react as his sister met them in the corner, where they sat at the table.

“Hi, my baby,” she smiled, pressing a kiss to Mila’s head.

“Uncle Az says we can’t touch,” Mila said, hand in Azriel’s.

Amarantha hesitated, before sitting across from them. “Well, I can still kiss my baby. How are you? I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Mila said, quietly. “I like staying with Uncle Azzie, though. I go to school and have a unicorn backpack. Uncle Azzie makes me lunch for my batman lunchbox, too.”

“You and Batman,” Amarantha chuckled, and for once, Azriel thought she almost looked human. He and Amarantha used to watch Batman on Saturday mornings - a tradition Azriel brought to Mila the moment she was born. Batman, the best of all superheroes.

“Uncle Azriel seems to be taking good care of you,” Amarantha said, glancing at Azriel.

His eyes were watching his sister, clinging to every word that came out of her mouth, ready to bolt the moment she said something wrong.

“Yeah,” Mila said, finally starting to sound like her real self. “And Aunt Mor and Lain.”

Amarantha raised her eyebrows, then looked at Azriel.

“Mor is home from school for the Summer,” Azriel explained. “Elain is a friend of mine.”

“Lain and Uncle Az are getting married,” Mila beamed.

Amarantha’s brows shot into her hairline.

“No, we’re not,” Azriel began, clearing his throat. “How have you been?”

It was obvious that he was only asking the question so that the spotlight would be off of him.

“Not awful,” Amarantha said, sighing. “Would be nice if you sent money from time to time.”

Azriel, despite himself, laughed. “Yeah, I’ll do that. Help you get a candy bar while you’re locked up.”

Rolling her eyes, Amarantha looked back to Mila. “Tell me about your school, baby.”

They went on talking. Azriel sat still, Mila on his lap, as she talked to her mother. He let them catch up, watching the clock as it ticked by. They would leave soon. He would carry Mila to the car and get her away from there, buy her some ice cream, some chicken nuggets, and return to normalcy.

As much normalcy as they could have.

“You don’t let her stay the night, do you?” Amarantha asked.

Azriel blinked, and when he looked at Amarantha, he realized it wasn’t the first time she had asked. “Sorry, what?”

“This Elain,” she repeated, and Mila was looking back and forth between her mother and her uncle. “She doesn’t stay the night, right? With Mila there? She shouldn’t be seeing that.”

Azriel hesitated. “You’re kidding, right?”

She gave him a look that told him no, she definitely wasn’t.

“I…” Azriel trailed off, laughing. “You’re in fucking prison, and you’re worried about me setting a bad example?”

With thinned lips, Amarantha said, “I still care about my daughter, Azriel.”

“Yeah,” Azriel began. “So do I, which is why I’m fucking here. Don’t ask questions about my personal life. She’s well taken care of. I’ve always taken care of her. You know that, perfectly well.” He took one look into Mila’s eyes and instantly felt guilty.

They were wide, scared, confused, lost.

Azriel sighed. “Sorry, babe. Uncle Az is just tired.”

Mila leaned into his chest, and Amarantha watched the sight with jealousy. “I would like for Mila to come see me once a week, at least.”

Azriel shook his head. “I have a job, Amarantha. And she has school. I can’t get her here every Monday morning.”

“Then find someone who can,” she snapped.

The threat she dished him over the phone days before replayed in his mind. Get her here, or I’ll have her stay with someone who can. You’re replaceable, Azriel.

“Fine,” he gritted out.

Amarantha stood. It was five minutes until twelve. It was time to go.

“I love you,” she smiled, and pressed her lips to Mila’s forehead. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Mila’s lip wobbled as she nodded. “Love you, mama.”

Amarantha looked at her brother. “Azriel.”

“Amarantha,” he muttered.

She walked away, Mila crying as she watched. Azriel felt helpless. He couldn’t make the situation better. A little bit easier, maybe, but never better. He held Mila closely to him as he stood, thanked the guards, and walked outside.

Mila didn’t say anything else until they were back in the truck.

“Why did mama have to go with those men?” she asked, as Azriel buckled her into her carseat.

“They were guards,” Azriel said, then realized she had no idea what that meant. “They were there to make sure she knew where she was going.”

Mila nodded, slowly.

“Lunch?” Azriel asked. “I was thinking of chicken nuggets and ice cream.”

Mila clapped. “Yes, yes, yes!”

Chicken nuggets and ice cream healed all. Azriel pulled out of the prison’s parking lot and headed back toward the city. Five minutes later, Mila was asleep.

Azriel’s phone rang.

“Hey,” he answered, picking it up quickly, hoping his obnoxious ringtone wouldn’t wake Mila.

“Hey,” Elain said, and he knew she was smiling, which made him smile. “How’d it go?”

“Okay. Could have gone worse,” he said, honestly. “Mila actually handled it pretty well, considering. She only cried and broke my heart a handful of times.”

“It must be hard for her,” Elain said. “She’s a tough little girl, though. And she had you with her, thankfully.”

Azriel shook his head. “You always look at the bright side, don’t you?”

“I try to,” Elain said.

Azriel propped the phone on his shoulder. “I like that about you.” She laughed, quietly. “What are you up to?”

“Getting ready for work,” she answered. “Ready to go sell overpriced kids clothes to a bunch of stay at home moms.”

Azriel chuckled. “Sounds fun.”

“Not so much,” she laughed. “But, I’m excited to see you later.”

“Me too,” he breathed. “I thought maybe, if you want, you could stay over...again.”

Elain paused. “I’d like that.”

“Good,” Azriel said, trying to pretend he wasn’t ridiculously nervous every time he asked Elain to stay with him. It wasn’t that he expected anything, but he liked sleeping with her, lying with her in his arms. They kept saying they were going to take things slow, and they had, only sharing kisses and lying together, fully clothed, through the night. But, there was something intimate about sharing a bed with someone, no matter what you were doing in that bed.

Azriel loved that intimacy. “I’ll see you tonight, then.”

“Yeah,” Elain said, softly. “I’ll see you tonight.”

~~~~~

“At least the swelling is going down.”

It was true. A few days had passed since Rhyasnd’s incident with Tamlin, and he was able to see out of his eyes more and more as the swelling progressively went down. He had the day off of work, had most of the week off of work, but it sure didn’t make anything any easier. The more time he had off, the more time had off to dwell on everything. Feyre came home on her lunch, every day, fussing over him, even though he claimed he was fine.

And he was fine.

The pain wasn’t so bad. He still looked much worse than he felt. The broken ribs were the worst of it, but it was bearable. And the swelling of his eyes was much better - it was nice to be able to see.

“I thought we could go out tonight,” Rhysand said.

Feyre had just got home not long ago and she was already searching through the fridge, figuring out what to make for dinner.

She hesitated. “I thought it would be nice to stay in.”

“Why?” Rhysand said, trying not to grow frustrated. “I haven’t left the house in days.”

“I just prefer to stay home,” she murmured, closing the refrigerator before opening up the freezer.

“Afraid people will stare?” Rhysand snapped. “I get I look like shit right now, Feyre, but I can’t hide in the house.”

Feyre slammed the freezer door shut before turning to look at him, arms crossed. “No. I’m not afraid people will stare. But I am afraid that everyone we pass is going to report back to Tamlin, and he’ll find a way to make things worse.”

Rhysand raked a hand through his messy, black hair. “You act like he’s the head of the fucking mob.”

Feyre’s lips tightened, but she said nothing. She simply opened the fridge, once more.

“Whatever,” Rhysand shook his head. “I’m going out.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not!” she said, slamming a thawed package of chicken breasts onto the counter. And Rhysand instantly felt guilty, because there were tears in her eyes. “Please.”

Rhysand shook his head. “I’m not scared of him, Feyre, and you shouldn’t be either. It’s fucking Tamlin. He can only do so much harm.”

Feyre stared at him. “I just don’t feel like going out. And if you love me, you won’t fight me on this.”

The words were soft, all of her bite gone, her eyes dry.

“You can’t keep using that,” Rhysand mumbled. “If you love me...You know I do.”

“Too much,” Feyre said.

“Not possible,” Rhysand breathed. “Even though you’re being a pain in the ass.”

Feyre’s eyes rolled. “The only pain in the ass here is you.”

Rhysand pushed himself off the couch and walked into the kitchen, Feyre watching each of his steps with narrowed eyes. When he reached her, he took her face into his hands and planted his mouth on her forehead. “I know.”

This earned him a smile. She traced the black designs inked across his chest. “It has nothing to do with you, with how you look. I’m just not ready to go out yet. I feel violated. And, yes, I feel scared. I know you can handle it, you can take care of yourself and all that, but I’m not ready to get another call, calling me to the hospital because you were knocked unconscious.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, pushing her hair back. “We can stay in. I’ll help cook.”

Feyre arched a brow. “You’re going to help me cook?”

“I can cook.”

“We both know that’s total bullshit.”

Rhysand barked a laugh. “Challenge accepted.”

Feyre stilled. “What?”

“I’m making you dinner.”

“That’s not what-”

“Sit back and relax, Feyre, darling. I’ve got this.”

With a look of pure uncertainty, Feyre sat down by the island, hesitantly, and folded her hands together. “Can I at least-”

“No.”

“But I-”

“Nope.”

Feyre scowled. “Fine. But I’m going to sit here and judge you the entire time.”

Rhysand grinned, grabbing a bottle of wine from the stand and a glass from the cabinet. He poured it, the glass filling halfway, and slid it to Feyre on the island. “Enjoy.”

“Enjoy watching you burn everything?” Feyre asked, fingers pulling the glass of sweet white wine toward her.

“Would it help if I were naked?”

Feyre howled. “Although I wouldn’t mind, I prefer you don’t jeopardize my favorite part. If little Rhys were to get burned, I’d be heartbroken.”

“Little Rhys?” he grinned, pulling out a bunch of asparagus. “Is that what we’re calling him now?”

“What do you usually call him?”

“I don’t know,” Rhysand said, shrugging. “Something that sounds a little more dangerous than Little Rhys.”

Feyre sipped her wine as she watched Rhysand cut up the raw chicken. “Like what?”

Rhysand laughed, tossing the cut-up chicken into a skillet. “I don’t know. Maybe Bruce. Or Wolverine.”

Feyre nearly spat out her wine. “You want me to start referring to your penis as Bruce?”

“You’re right,” Rhysand hummed. “Definitely Wolverine.”

Their night went on like that: nice, easy, light. He did everything he could to make her laugh, to make her smile, to make her forget about Tamlin, her fears, her discomfort.

To her surprise, Rhysand didn’t burn their food. And to both of their surprise, it actually tasted pretty damn good.

After they ate, Rhysand did the dishes, no matter how much she protested, saying that he needed to relax.

He was tired of relaxing.

With a little more wine, her protests died down, and after Rhysand was done cleaning up the kitchen, she dragged him down the hall, to his bed, where they made love until Feyre was sleeping, soundly.

Rhysand watched her sleep, admired her soft snoring.

He hated Tamlin for making her scared.

Rhysand couldn't live like that, Feyre could live like that, full of fear and paranoia.

It seemed Rhysand would have to do something to end it, once and for all, sooner rather than later.

~~~~~

“Hey, Bartender.”

Nesta’s eyes snapped over to the other end of the bar, where Cassian sat, grinning.

“Come to get drunk on a weeknight?” She asked. “Don’t you work tomorrow?”

“Bright and early,” he said, eyes narrowed. “Whiskey.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “It’s always whiskey.”

“Of course it is,” Cassian agreed. “Be nice to me, though. You don’t want me to leave you a shitty tip.”

Nesta snorted. “You wouldn’t.”

“You’re right,” he agreed, watching her lean over the bar, toward him. “I promise to give you a good tip. And an even better tip, once you clock out.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed as his grin widened.

“Fuck off,” she muttered, but was unable to control her smile.

Cassian laughed, but Nesta had frozen halfway to fulfill his request, because the door had opened, and someone new had walked in. He caught Nesta’s eye and walked toward the bar, sitting close to Cassian, only a stool away.

“Beer,” he said, grinning. “Whatever’s on tap.”

Cassian had seen him, too. Of course, he had. There weren’t that many people there, and he’d sat right by him. Nesta shook it off, grabbing a glass and filling it with whiskey. She slowly walked back to Cassian and set it down in front of him.

Cassian didn’t touch it.

He was looking at Tomas.

~~~~~

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Prompts:

{ “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever met that asshole” - Feysand } -anonymous

{ “How about Nessian needing to fake date when they go home for the holidays?!” } - anonymous

{ “could u pls do like an elriel fic where azriel is like this mysterious bad boy and elain is a goody two shoes lik aaaaa i cant get that image out of my head” } - anonymous

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #tacmc AITA #feysand #nessian #elriel #sjm #modern au #fanfic #fanfiction

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jason-the-mommas-boy · 4 years

Note

hello darling Narrator!! okay idc if this is a request or something for the book but,,, Jason helping his s/o with their hair/makeup,,, he’s so precious and would be so gentle when working with hair?? he might not be the best at it but he’s number one in my heart

aa!! anon, im so sorry that this took so long but I just really loved this idea and I also mixed it with one of the february prompts I had planned so that’s the main reason it took this long aaa…I hope you enjoy it though!! also bonus points for anyone who knows what the book I reference is at the end)

Jason Voorhees braids his S/O’s hair (and more)

Prompt / Summary - Sleepover!!! / nails prompt from the 2020 February prompt list made by @ / hiddendreamer67 (yes ill be doing all of them eventually!!)

Word Count: 6.7k

Jason can’t remember much about his childhood after all these years.

Yes, of course, he remembers his mommy, the bullies that tortured him at the camp, and the overwhelming feeling of water running down into his lungs. But the small details have completely dropped from his memory as his decaying body grew older. Though, as soon as you entered into his life and he accepted that fact, the small stuff you did would irk the forgotten things.

You taking his measurements for example. You were going to get him a new shirt as a surprise once you learned that he absolutely adored turtlenecks, but you needed to make sure it would fit on the giant man! Jason didn’t question it, if he had to be honest, you had done weirder things. Much to his surprise, this little action had reminded him back to when he was just a kid, his mommy doing the same exact thing! She’d take his measurements, and leave a kiss on his forehead for behaving so well afterwards.

These memories often left him feeling happier. It was something positive that he could take away from when he was a child as most things were very negative. But it also meant that you just kept putting a positive impact on his life! You were such an angel in his eyes.

A few days ago, he had another one of these moments. It was late in the evening when you arrived at Jason’s cabin, a little bit of (messy) makeup adorning your face. You had a big meeting at your job that day and felt like it was important to look better than usual so you wouldn’t leave an okay or worse impression.

You’re a little dumbfounded when your boyfriend opens the door to let you in, he freezes up, and goes blank. He’s never seen you in makeup before! And??? If he didn’t already have a dead heart, it would have stopped beating at that very moment! You were so pretty already and now you’re even more pretty??? Oh, RIP this poor man. It seems like every other day you were giving him an entirely new reason to love you.

But it also reminded him of when he was younger. His mommy would let him put makeup on her face if he wished to do so after a particularly long day at camp. He’d grab a washcloth and clean her face before placing a lot of makeup on her. He thought his mommy looked just lovely with it and it would always destress him or calm him down.

“Jason?” Your voice called out, pulling him away from the trance you had put him in.

Right, you were still outside the cabin, waiting for him. He let you inside, taking a step to the side. A warm fire was already ready when you stepped in, the warmth inviting you to sit and relax. But even before you even thought about taking a seat on that couch, Jason stopped you and made sure you were paying attention to him for the minute. He made the heart shape with his hands and then he gestured towards your face.

It took a moment before you realized what he was trying to say. With a smile, you looked up to him. “Aww! Do you like my makeup?”

He nodded, happy that his message came across.

He made another notion quickly afterwards, pointing to your lips. He wasn’t sure how else to express what he wanted to do! Being mute could be extremely difficult sometimes.

You tilted your head, giving him a confused look. “Err, wha?”

Uh, okay. This time he tried to hold an imaginary brush up to your face and made a few strokes, as if he were painting on a canvas. Was that any better? He wasn’t exactly sure.

Silence. Then you blink a few times, having stared at his fingers with a skeptical face.

“You would like to do my makeup?”

Jason nodded again, this time much more excited. He’s already shown that he just loved brushing your hair, which made sense. He didn’t have any hair of his own and probably found the action itself soothing. So it’s really no surprise to you that he’d like to do your makeup as well! Honestly, your boyfriend just loved doing stuff for you.

You pat his arm as an idea popped into your head! “Jason! Why don’t we just have a sleepover? You can do my makeup and hair and I’ll do your nails! How’s that sound to my special boy?”

Oh! Sure!

You didn’t have any of your makeup with you, though. You were more than sure that Jason didn’t either. Yeah, he took everything he could find from the dead campers, but it was pretty unlikely the people here would pack lipstick in their supplies.

It seemed like Jason was having the same thoughts as you. He was also a little disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to do your makeup tonight, but he was still just as happy to have you here, in his home, and hopefully, be in his arms soon.

You bite your lip. “Don’t worry I’ll bring everything we need, okay?” You got an understanding nod in response. Okay, cool!

Oh, but a sleepover??? The masked killer can’t remember if he ever had a sleepover before. Probably not. He never recalled having any friends back at camp besides his mommy, but she was always busy with her job as the cook most of the time.

You’ve also never stayed the night before! There were so many new experiences you were providing him!

“Is this weekend okay with you? That way I can come by early perrrhaps? I don’t want you to put makeup on me just to take it off before we sleep.”

He shook his head as if to say, Oh, absolutely not, there could be campers out there to hurt you-

You bit your lip and tugged at his sleeve. “Pleeease? Take a few hours off that routine for me? I’m sure there’ll be no teenagers running about.”

Oh, what was he thinking? He couldn’t say no to you. As long as you were spending all that time with him, it was okay. More time spent with you, the better, he guessed. With a nod, he pressed his mask against your forehead, mocking a kiss.

With the plan made, all there was needed to do was wait on Jason’s part. Which he already continuously struggled with on a daily basis. Yes, he had patience for the kill, but he did not have patience to wait for you!

Well, Jason assumed that if you were going to stay the night, you would most likely want a warm place to sleep. While he had his own bedroom, it was extremely cold, no thanks to the giant hole in the roof. He also found that the tunnels underneath were also unfit, as they were cramped and filled with rats. He didn’t know your opinion on the rodents but he didn’t want to give you a scare. He considered moving the fireplace for a moment, but then realized it would be chilly in the main room instead! Were you fine with sleeping on the couch (with himself by your side)?

The next few days would pass by, agonizingly slow in Jason’s opinion, but he wouldn’t complain. You still visited at night to hang out with him! To cuddle on the couch and let you talk about your day. He just loved having you in his arms (or be in your arms!) and just being able to enjoy your company as much as you enjoyed his. He was just too excited for his own good sometimes.

As much as time mocked the poor boy, it also went by terrifyingly fast. The weekend was already here! The sun found itself sitting at the horizon just as Jason was making his way around the woods, reminiscing on the events of the past few nights with you. He needed to make sure there were definitely no campers at or around the camp. He just wants to enjoy his first sleepover with you and not have any disruptions! Only when he was sure that the area was free of intruders, he made his way back to his home.

A step in and he’s already on his way to get stuff out for the sleepover. He places a stack of firewood near the fireplace, enough to last the whole night to keep you all nice and warm. Well, he thinks it’s enough, but knowing Jason, he probably overstocked.. He doesn’t have the best sense of time unfortunately. To play it safe, he also had a couple of blankets sitting on the couch so that you would not freeze to death in the middle of the night, especially since he didn’t provide any body heat. Oh, and pillows, of course. Your comfort was his top priority.

Did you need food? You never really ate when you visited before…maybe you would at least need something to eat in the morning. But if you were to even mention being hungry before then, he would leap at the opportunity to do something for you. His chest always seemed to get fuzzy when you praised him and he genuinely liked that feeling. It was a drive to do more things for you, though he would have done anything for you even if he didn’t. Your happiness was the goal that he set to achieve every time you step foot on his grounds.

Just as he sets extra pillows down on the couch, he hears the ring of the bells chime in a familiar pattern from down below. Loud enough for him to hear, but quiet enough for no one else to pick up on it unless they were paying attention. It was your way of communicating that you were almost to the cabin for a visit.

Oh, he was excited. There was no use in hiding that. He just loved it whenever you came by, no matter if it was almost a nightly basis. It was the idea that you were sleeping over that really excited him. There was the aspect of being able to do your makeup and hair as well. The detail that you wanted to take care of his nails didn’t slip by him either, but he wasn’t sure on what that really meant.

He lifts his hands up so they’re in his eye view, turning them so he could look at his fingernails. Was there something wrong with his nails? He didn’t think so, maybe they were just too long? Jason wasn’t really that caught up in how much self-care was deemed acceptable in society, he just didn’t care, but maybe he should be taking care of himself better. He did have a significant other to impress now.

He shrugs the thought off, leaning down on one knee to toss some logs into the fireplace. The lack of self cleanliness didn’t seem to bother you from what he could tell. Yeah, he had the decency to let you wash his clothes every now and then or stand out in the rain in attempt to wash off the dirt and blood on his jacket and jeans (much to your dismay), but he didn’t do much other than that.

With newspaper and wood in the fireplace, it was set for a fire, to which he eagerly started. He has no need to stay warm, he didn’t get sick or anything alike, and didn’t even mind the cold, but the heat that the fire provided was a reminder of you. Not just because he only set the fire just for you when you were about to arrive, but also because it reminded him of your warmth, the body heat that you radiated. You were just so warm compared to him, which was no surprise as he was a walking corpse and you were a living human being.

The fire itself finally roars to life, flames intertwining with one another as he stands back up. A smile found itself on his lips, it was genuinely a funny thought that you were perfectly okay with dating someone that was like a zombie, even as going far as cuddling and kissing him. He was a murderer too but you seemed to be okay with this fact too after a while. It was understood that he wanted to be left alone on his land and wanted no guests, with you as the odd exception to this rule. You weren’t afraid of who he was, not even slightly disgusted, and with this fact, his undead heart overflowed with emotion in his chest.

Jason was unknowingly poking at the fire with a stick, struck with this sense of boredom while still being excited for your arrival. He didn’t know how to explain it, maybe it was just a side effect of impatience when something he was waiting for was so close. He runs his tongue over his teeth, trying to understand this new emotion to the best of his abilities. This wasn’t the first time that you, whether you meant it or not, caused him to feel something entirely new.

It seems like all you did was provide new. New emotions, experiences, memories, desires, and a lot of many other things he couldn’t put his finger on. It was all new to him, as most of his years were spent feeling anger and remorse, killing anyone who dared to step on the campgrounds. He wasn’t the way he was now though, only shaped by the world, your kindness and childhood memories he would find along the way. He’d been a blank slate with a few morals already set in place, a curious young boy eager to learn given the opportunity.

A gentle knock kicks him out from his thinking, dragging his attention away from the fire to the door.

You were here!

Dropping his poking stick, he scrambles to the door to open it. With a motion, the door was opened and boom, you were there! The ever-so adorable you was standing at his doorstep, a backpack scooped up in your arms, and a smile on your face. You were practically a beam of sunshine in his dark little corner of the world at this very moment.

“Hey!” You greet, moving the bag in your arms so you could wave at the masked killer of Camp Blood.

He waves back before plucking the backpack from you with ease and moving aside so you could enter. You were a guest in his home and Jason was not going to allow you to do any physical labor, even if it wasn’t a big deal for you. The bag itself wasn’t even that heavy, and probably felt like a feather in Jason’s hand, but your boyfriend didn’t care.

You roll your eyes playfully and walk inside, making sure to close the door behind you as well. “Why, thank you, Jason.”

The way he perks up at your praise does not go unnoticed, the smile behind his hockey mask completely evident. He nods in response, shrugging in the process as to say that it wasn’t a big deal.

A gentle hand sets on your shoulder as he leads you to the couch, to where the warm fire and blankets were. He was no stranger to the cold outside, even if it was early enough for the sun to be out. You oblige (there was no use in fighting with your boyfriend on this, was there?) and set yourself on the old cushions.

You take a folded blanket off the stack of squares and smile, more to yourself. Jason didn’t need to go out of his way to find his stash of blankets, as experience reminds you that he had to go searching for one for a little bit the first time you complained that you were cold. Maybe it really did get that chilly at night here.

Unfolding the blanket as the gentle giant beside you took his own seat, you sit up and place a kiss on the lower part of Jason’s hockey mask. “Mmm, thank you.” And, to make sure he understood, you rest the blanket on both of your laps.

It seems that no matter how many times you show him physical affection, he’ll never really get used to it. It’s alien to him no matter what, as it always got him to freeze up and take a few moments to unwind the growing flustered feelings. Even if the kiss wasn’t directly skin-to-skin contact, the act itself always made the poor boy feel overwhelmed if he wasn’t prepared for it or the one initiating the affection first.

With a slow nod, Jason leans down to return the favor with a mock kiss on the forehead. His mask wasn’t exactly the most pleasant thing to feel, the fiberglass was always cold to the touch. This was more than likely due to the body heat your boyfriend seems to never produce. It was also a bit rough, with all the cuts from the use over the years.

The masked killer sitting by your side gently taps your shoulder with two fingers to gain your attention before it could drift away, lifting your backpack into his lap and tilting his head as if to say What is this for?

You giggle, finding his curiosity cute. “It’s my things for the sleepover.”

He tilts his head the other way. Surely you did not have that much makeup just lying around.

“It isn’t just the stuff I said I would bring silly.”

Oh?

Taking the bag from his grasp, you pull the longest zipper open to reveal clothes and a few toiletries. You grab a shirt as an example to show him. “I brought things like pajamas to wear tonight and clothes to change into tomorrow. My toothbrush, toothpaste, lotion, and all that stuff.”

Ah. So there was more to taking care of yourself than just keeping your clothes clean. Jason nods, understanding. Of course you would bring other things to make sure you kept clean.

You place the piece of clothing back into the backpack and reach further in to locate and pull out a hairbrush. You eye the object for a moment before looking back up to your expectant boyfriend. “You wanted to brush my hair, right?”

He nods again with a child-like glee in his eyes, he just adored brushing your hair.

Instead of simply handing the brush over, you point to his hands. “You know the drill, Silly. Your hands must be clean before you can touch my hair.”

With a glance towards where you had pointed, Jason realizes that his hands are grimey and covered in dirt. While it was true that his hands weren’t dirty enough to leave marks on anything, it still would be the best route to clean his hands before touching your hair. He didn’t want to ruin your pretty hair!

The cabin he resided in no longer had running water as the years passed by, and while Jason could do many things, he didn’t know how to make the sink work again. To make up for that, he keeps water bottles he’s stolen from campers and the few you got him in his (no longer working) fridge. He really didn’t need water, his body didn’t require it to function properly, and only really kept the water to wash his hands and other things if he needed to.

So, he was stuck washing his hands awkwardly in the sink that didn’t work with some soap bar he found most of the time. And that’s what he’s planning to do as he pushed the blanket off his lap to the side and stood up. Well, before you tugged at the sleeve of his jacket.

When he looks down to you, you smile and tilt your head, an action Jason would have done if he had a question. “Can I wash your hands? I need to scrub those nails.” You pause, seeing the confusion in his eyes. “For the nail polish and stuff.” Another awkward pause, was he waiting for something? “Just uh, fill a bowl with water and bring it over here with the soap, okay?”

The masked killer stood there for a moment before nodding, agreeing to your request. He leans down to pat your head and continues to make his way toward the decaying kitchen to grab what he needed. He could practically feel his heart flutter in his chest, almost questioning if it would leap out and start running all over the place. One of his favorite things in the world was having your tiny hands in his. It didn’t matter if your hands were actually tiny compared to another normal human’s, they were tiny in his hands! It genuinely made him feel like his heart was melting.

Wait. Did he have any bowls in the cabin? He should, right? It seems like such a silly question to ask himself, but he never really looked into the kitchen. He didn’t need food or water and he was perfectly okay with using his mother’s machete as a murder weapon, so there was no use in searching the kitchen for stuff he simply didn’t need. And when did he ever recall the use of a bowl?

He takes a step into the kitchen, somewhat hesitant and suddenly feeling lost in his own home. The bowls would be in the cabinet if his memory served him right. With one swift movement, he finds himself standing at multiple cabinets connected to the wall. Pulling at the tiny knob, there’s a relief flooding through him when he does find the bowls sitting there right in front of him.

They were a little dusty and a little cracked from age, but that’s okay. He eyes them and picks out one that looks like it was the least likely to spill anything. They weren’t very big, probably couldn’t even fit one of his hands in it, but it was better than having to head down into the tunnels and go scavenge for some doggy dish.

Satisfied, he closes the cabinet and grabs the other two items he needs to be able to complete his little quest and sit back down with you.

His little feet stomps were enough to tell you that Jason was walking back and by the time you were going to turn your head around to greet him again, he was sitting back down on the couch. Ah, right. Mister long legs.

You lend your hand out, a way of asking for the bowl that he had in his grasp, to which he complied. “Thank you again.” You smile at him, gently squeezing his hand before taking the bowl, which was holding the water bottle and an unopened bar of soap.

You move the objects out of the dish, quickly filling it with the water instead with the help of Jason steadying the bowl in his hands so it wouldn’t spill over. You balance it in a safe spot between the two of you, getting the man before you to wet his hands as you take the bar of soap out of the box.

Wetting the soap just after Jason moves himself out of your way, you gesture for him to give you one of his hands and set to gently scrubbing at his palm. He was perfectly capable of washing his own hands, but it was going to be easier if it was you picking at the dirt in his nails. Also, his hands were nice, there was no denying that.

You look up, making an attempt to keep the silence sitting in the air at bay. “Have you ever had your nails painted before?”

He shakes his head. An obvious answer to you now when you consider that the poor boy didn’t have any friends when he was younger.

Feeling a bit of guilt boil in your gut, you bite your lip and try to keep the conversation positive in case any unwanted memories found their way to Jason. “Well, I don’t have many colors to choose from, but you’re free to choose what you want. We can do different colors if you’d like.”

Jason nods to this, the proposal more than agreeable. Honestly, he was just happy to have an excuse to feel your fingers on his. It left the tips of his ears feeling tingly, a very pleasant buzz that probably would have left a blush on his cheeks.

“Just, uh, don’t touch anything after I paint your nails! They’re gonna need to dry off.” It was a reminder that needed to be set. If someone hadn’t told you to not go touch crazy when you were younger, nail polish would have gotten on everything. But Jason gives another nod, understanding.

Okay, next hand. You pat his other arm as you let go of the one you just finished scrubbing the dirt and grime off of. And with that, you start your work.

“How would you like to put my hair up this time? Braids? Ponytail? Bun?” You grab his attention with a smile and wait for his answer.

It takes him a moment before he raises his recently cleaned hand up with one index finger up, indicating the first option you listed. “Braids, huh?”

He nods, confirming his answer to you.

“Okay!” You squeeze his hand, giggling somewhat. The first time he tried to put your hair up in braids was a little more than just messy, but it was fun for you both in the process and in the end result.

The water in the bowl was a little more than dirty by the time you give back Jason’s hand, leaving both of them cleaner than before. You drop the bar of soap back into its box and set it and the dish on the floor to move it out of the way.

Jason is wondering if he should wipe his hands off on his dirty pants or not, and settles for very carefully drying them off on his shirt. He didn’t want to erase the effort you put into scrubbing his palms but he also didn’t want to make your hair wet. You offer him your hairbrush for him to take, and with nothing in the way between you two, you scoot in closer to his lap and turn around.

It only takes a few moments until you feel a very light trace of fingers running around your hairline. At this point, it feels like you are never going to get used to how gentle your boyfriend is around you when you know how much strength he can put out at will. It draws a shudder out of you as he drags his fingers through your hair and you easily relax into his touch.

It didn’t matter if your hair was a mess, greasy, tangled up, or just plain gross, Jason loved it. For someone to trust him enough to be able to be this close and touch something such as their hair without a care in the world reminds him of what he so dearly needed. Human contact, bonding, something he very much lacked in his childhood with others around his age. Sure, there were other activities, but brushing your hair was his favorite. There was something so satisfying about it to him. Was it the brushing out the tangles, playing with something so soft with his fingers as he styles it to his liking, or just having you so close to him that he could straddle you in his grasp and smell you? It was a mix of all of them, he guesses.

And with a silent breath, Jason runs the brush through your hair.

There weren’t many tangles, he finds out. Which, in his book, was good. He didn’t know if you had a sensitive scalp or not, and the last thing he wanted was to see you in tears because he pulled at a tangle too harshly. You always seemed to be fine when he brushed your hair, but he could never be too sure.

Otherwise, he was enjoying himself, especially when he finally brushes out all the little tangles, leaving him to brush your hair mindlessly. You didn’t complain about this, it felt nice to feel the brush move gently around your scalp with no real intention. This was nice.

Jason sets the brush down on his thigh and moves his fingers back through your hair, relishing in how nice it was. He separates it into three parts, trying to make them all equal as best as he could. If he had to be honest with himself, he wasn’t the best at braiding. His hands were awkwardly too large in some instances and the braid itself was always too loose to hold for very long. He liked doing it though, practice makes perfect after all.

He starts the braiding process, feeling a little lost as he did so. It felt a little confusing just because he’d forget which part to move, even if it was making itself clear as day to him.

He leans down to rest his chin on your head once he gets close to finishing the braid. It was a little out of nowhere for you, but it was enjoyable nevertheless. He moves a free hand to run down to your arm from your shoulder, patting at your skin along the way with two fingers. Was he trying to grab your attention?

Just in case, you turn your head to the best of your abilities without disrupting his little resting spot on your scalp. “Hm?”

He tugs at the bottom of your braid with care, inferring something, to which he hopes that you’ll get what he was trying to say.

Oh, oh!

“You need a scrunchie, don’t you?” You ask, and feel Jason tap his fingers again in response.

That was a yes by your standards, so you stretch out your leg to fetch your backpack by the straps with your foot. There was no necessary reason to get up and leave your boyfriend’s gentle grasp when he was getting himself comfortable. You lean forward just a tiny bit to grab the bag once you could reach for it and pull it into your chest. It wasn’t long before you found your tiny bag of scrunchies sitting amongst your clothes, and you take one out for the gentle giant behind you to take.

The object leaves your hand pretty quickly, and you feel Jason sit back up to wrap it at the end of your braid to finish the look. The braid itself feels like it would fall apart at any moment, but gosh, did it feel nice to have such big hands playing around in your hair.

You flip yourself around so you are facing Jason again, placing the bag in your lap as you opened up another zipper. You reveal its contents to him, showing him the makeup supplies that you brought. “You wanted to do my makeup, right?”

He nods, a huff coming out from him as he brings a hand up to fix a few stray hairs near your face. With that, you can’t hide the faint blush on your cheeks. It was so unfair that this monster of a man didn’t even have to try that hard to make you a little flustered, and it was even more unfair that he usually never meant to do so!

“I already cleaned my face before I got here so…you can do whatever with what I have!” You take out a small tube of lipstick. “I don’t have many colors or a lot of anything, is that alright?”

Of course it was! He gives another nod and digs his fingers into the pouch, peering into what items he could see.

“Okay! Just don’t poke my eye out.” You joke, dropping the lipstick back to where you had grabbed it. A smile pulls at your lips as you hear a noise erupt from him while his shoulders give a light shake, a voiceless laugh sounding from him.

It was only really funny to him because he would never hurt you, he knows that he has to be very gentle with humans, or, well, you. Any other human he doesn’t care if he hurts or not as long as their injury or death was justified, but if you got hurt, he doesn’t know what he would do with himself. He nods to what you say anyways, shrugging his shoulders to convey that he won’t, he doesn’t have a reason to.

Jason pulls out a cylinder tube from your backpack, something comically small in his grasp. He uncaps it to better recognize what it was. It produced a wand with some black fuzz at the end. He was familiar with the use of it, but the name was escaping his tongue.

You, on the other hand, knew that what he was holding was a tiny bottle of mascara. If you remember correctly, it was a sample size you had gotten from a store not even a month ago.

He makes a tilting motion of his head and then points to you with his index finger, he wants you to do the same thing. You comprehend this and do so and close. your eyes.

His hands are shaky and unsure, the mascara wand shaking a little bit as he applied it to your eyelashes. He had to be careful! Jason definitely did not want to accidentally rub mascara onto your skin and if he knew any better, makeup was not easy to take off. He made a few strokes before pulling away, the absence of his presence near your face told you he was finished and sitting back.

You flutter your eyes a bit, giving your boyfriend a playful look. “Am I looking good so far?”

Jason nods, his chest a little warmer. You always looked nice in his opinion. Even if you were trying to push against him in the rain for him to get back inside, you still somehow managed to be the most beautiful thing he’s laid his eyes on. It was just very frustrating that he didn’t know how to express that without a voice.

“Why thank you.”

He shrugs and puts the tiny tube of makeup back into the pouch. Amongst his search for something else to use, he found a few lipsticks, all which were varying in color and shades. He could easily name what these were, as it was his favorite thing to play around with when he was younger.

Jason takes his time in putting up each one near your face, testing to see which one best complimented your skin color. After a moment, he seems to be happy with his second option and continues to place the rest of the cosmetics back to where they previously sat. He gestures for you to sit up and he cups your chin with his expected gentleness.

He’s careful and considerably more steady when he applies the lipstick, obviously more confident with this item of makeup. He tries to not put on too much and not smudge any of it, but the key word is tries. His big hands are the cause of his mistake, accidentally smudging some of the color off your lips when he was pulling back and has to fight the urge to try to wipe it away

A giggle escapes you, essentially grabbing his attention away from the accident to you. It was a sign to convey that it was alright, things happen.

The item is put back where it belongs in your bag, packing the hairbrush too, and he was a little unsure of what else to do. He didn’t have much experience in the makeup department, and within the awkwardness of his confusion, you speak up. “Are you done?”

He’s contemplating on how to answer, still unsure himself. Jason takes a quick glance at you, a little flutter in his stomach making itself known, and nods. He almost captured the way you had looked a few days ago and he enjoys that.

“Well, what do you think?” You ask, giving him a smile.

Despite his mistake still prominent, you still look really pretty! He forms a little heart with his hands to tell you his thoughts, his lips forming a smile behind the mask.

You reach up to squeeze his wrist and give a half-suppressed laugh. “Awwe, always the gentleman.” Pride fills his chest and he pats your arm before pushing the backpack back towards you.

You scavenge through the bag’s pouch and pull out a few bottles of nail polish, one that is filled with a clear liquid while the others are of different colors. You present the ones with color to Jason in your palms, offering them to him. “Pick a color!”

Your masked boyfriend hesitates, viewing his options before plucking one of the bottles from your grasp.

“Yellow? Okay.” You nod, putting the rest of the colors back in their little pouch and moving your backpack to the floor. You pause, tapping the yellow nail polish. “Yellow’s your favorite color, huh?”

It was obvious, kind of. He had shown you a lot of attention in thanks when you had given him a yellow turtleneck sweater not too long ago. His bedroom had a lot of yellow knickknacks and his tiny garden he started with you were mostly filled with yellow flowers.

With no surprise, Jason nods. He made it no secret, he very much enjoys the color. If anything, it was a reminder of you to have when you’re gone. Yellow is a very vibrant color that he associates with happiness and he considers you his little patch of sunshine! You definitely made his life way better the moment you walked into it and stood your ground. It only made sense, right?

You give a dip of your head and gesture for him to give you his hands. “Before we can paint your nails, we have to put on this clear coat so it lasts longer. Is that okay?”

He confirms his consent and you hunch over, starting to administer the clear coat onto his nails with the small brush. Nail polish is colder than what the masked killer assumed and shudders out of surprise. You take the yellow nail polish and start applying it to every other fingernail, cleaning up any mistakes you make with your sleeve. Jason was staying very still as you worked, not even flexing his fingers like you would have in an impatient hurry. It’s appreciated that’s for sure.

The varnish is quick to dry just as you finish applying the pink, though still wet enough to be easily ruined. You put the color off to the side and sit up, giving Jason a better view at the nails you had painted so far. “Do you like?”

Yellow looks nice on him, Jason thinks. He likes it and he has to bite back on the desire to hug you to better show you his appreciation, but finds an alternative. Jason leans down and presses his hockey mask against your forehead. This was nice.

You sit up and plant a kiss against his cheek in return, leaving a lipstick kiss mark in the spot. You can’t tell if Jason acknowledges this fact, but it just makes him look so much softer and cuter. Now, if he were wearing his sweater you got him, he’d be the definition of adorable.

You speak up and tug at your backpack, “I, uh, have a book in my backpack if you want me to read it to you…? You told me that your mom used to read stories to you so I thought you’d like me to read to you?”

He was this close to hugging you right now, oh gosh. You were so attentive to what he was always trying to say in actions. He nods his head excitedly, watching you peak through your bag one last time for the evening to pull out a black book.

“Get comfy.” You tease, adjusting your position to turn around and sit in his lap. He follows your instructions, hunching down to rest his head on your shoulders to not only see the cover better, but to nuzzle into your cheek.

You lick your lips and open the book. “The monster showed up just after midnight. As they do…“

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ghostsray · 4 years

Text

Danny Zombie chapter 2

(remember this fic? here’s the second chapter. tbh i dont even have a plot in mind, im just writing whatever bs pops in my head. based on @burning-clutch‘s prompt: an au where the ghosts are humans and the humans are ghosts)

Walker trudged into the cemetary. It was the dead of night, pun unintended, and he carried a flashlight to provide him better light than the dim full moon. He had received complaints from the surrounding residents about a strange occurence here: a flash of light, a sudden storm. To him, that sounded like a load of crap, but more than one person had witnessed it, so he had no choice but to investigate.

The flashlight's beam caught a group of teenagers up the hill, standing among a row of graves. As soon as they noticed him, they began to flee--two at first, then another pair trailing after. "Hey!" Walker called and picked up his pace, but he was too late. The four troublemakers had already made it to the opposite wall by the time he reached the grave they were ransacking.

Walker stopped and turned his flashlight down over the grave. He let out a disapproving tsk at what he saw. Whoever those teens were, (and he had an idea; he was familiar with all the troublemakers in town,) they had undoubtedly robbed the grave. A deep hole was dug in the mound, almost as if somebody had climbed out from inside the grave. Walker chuckled at that image. As if zombies were real.

The cop shone his flashlight down the hole. At first, he was met with nothingness, which was odd. Surely the graverobbers couldnt have taken the whole corpse with them, could they? Then, something stirred. Walker nearly dropped his flashlight in surprise, but he caught it and kneeled over the open grave to get a better look.

Nothing.

Walker exhaled. He was not a superstitious man, but this place gave him the creeps. He stood up, and as he did, his foot knocked against something. He looked down and grinned. A guitar--and a familiar one at that. He was sure the owner's parents would enjoy a nice chat with him.

He bent down to pick up the instrument, and that was when it happened. Toxic green light gradually grew from the grave and intensified until everything was shed in chartreuse. Walker momentarily forgot about the guitar, whipping his head back to face the grave.

It wasn't so empty anymore. When he peeked inside again, a swirling vortex of green...something...had filled it up. The light it produced was so bright it painted the soil a sickly green. Walker's jaw hung loose as he gawked, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Just then, something rose out of the vortex--or rather, someone.

He was a tall man in a white suit and sunglasses hiding his eyes, but what really caught Walker's attention was the fact that he was glowing. If one stared at him hard enough, his skin appeared transparent, and Walker thought he saw his skull underneath his face. Oh, yeah, and he was floating in the middle of the air above the portal he had come through.

The man, whatever he was, looked down at Walker, and goosebumps broke out on his flesh. He picked up his jaw long enough to ask, "Who...What are--"

He couldn't finish his sentence before the creature lunged at him. Walker held his arms up to protect himself, but it didn't do anything, because he wasn't attacked. Instead, the man--the ghost--had entered his body.

Walker's entire body shuddered. He felt his mind being pushed into nothingness as whatever was inside him wrested control. He desperately tried to cling to his consciousness, but it was no use. When he opened his eyes, he wasn't Walker anymore.

Operative's eyes glowed red. He flexed his borrowed neck and smiled.

Sidney woke up on 6 AM, like he did everyday. The alarm clock was ringing by his bedside, and he rolled in bed and slammed the top until it quieted. His eyes fluttered open. Blue eyes stared at him.

"Jiminy Cricket!" he blurted and fell off his bed.

"Jiminy Cricket?" Danny echoed. "What year were you born in?"

Sidney glared up at him from his spot upside down on the floor. The halfa was standing in Sidney's bedroom, wearing his borrowed clothes after Sidney had insisted he take a shower last night to remove all that creepy dirt on his body. He looked more alive than he had yesterday, almost normal even, though he was still pale.

"Says the guy who died forty years ago," Sidney grumbled and righted himself. He glanced at the halfa again and asked, "Didn't sleep?"

Danny slowly shook his head. "Dreams...are scary."

Sidney raised an eyebrow. Now that he looked at those blue eyes again, he noticed they seemed pretty bloodshot. "Not all dreams are scary," he said. "For example, I was just having a wonderful dream about standing up to Aragon."

"Who's Aragon?"

"This bully in school," Sidney said, and the way he mentioned the word "bully" made it sound like the worst insult possible. "His real name is Aaron, but he thinks calling himself Aragon is edgier or whatever. He thinks that just because he's rich, he's so much better than everyone else." He shook his head and added, "What about you? What dream is so scary you couldn't sleep?"

Danny didn't reply. He averted his eyes and focused on a corner.

Sidney sighed. Once again, he wondered why he was even letting him stay at his house. Curse that Ember for dropping him here. Hey, Poindexter! Here's this undead guy I found in the middle of the cemetary. I'll just drop him in your house and then leave!

He can't say he doesn't understand her reasoning, though. Ember's parents would never let her sneak a boy in her house, but Sidney's grandmother was barely aware of what was going on around her. One time he managed to keep a cat inside for an entire month, and she had no idea. (The cat's name was Gene Kelly, and he escaped when Sidney left the window open one day.)

"Well, you're a human now, and humans need to sleep," Sidney told him. "Eight hours a day. Then again, you are only part human, so I'm not sure if you need that much...um, what are you doing?"

Danny had lost interest in whatever Sidney was saying and had started rummaging around his room. Sidney got up and stopped him before he could pull open his underwear drawer. "Hey, just because I'm letting you stay over in my room doesn't mean you're free to search through my stuff! What are you searching for, anyway?"

"I told you yesterday," Danny said. "I need to make a call."

"The phone is right there, in case you haven't noticed," Sidney retorted and pointed at the telephone on his desk. But Danny shook his head.

"Phones can't contact the dead. Don't you have a ouija board? A crystal ball?"

Sidney's eyebrows rose to his scalp. "No? I'm not really into witchcraft. Maybe Desiree might have that stuff."

"Who's she?"

"A neighbor. But I'm not taking you to see her."

"Why not?"

"Because," Sidney said, "I need to go to school, and I don't trust you enough to let you roam around town unsupervised. How do I know you won't eat anyone's brains or anything?"

Danny huffed. "Why does everyone keep mistaking me for a zombie? I'm a ghost."

"You're a walking dead person who crawled out of his grave, that's why. Now can you just...stay put while I get ready for school?"

"School?" Danny asked, sounding interested.

Sidney rolled his eyes. "Yes, school. You know, where you learn stuff? I'm pretty sure those existed around your time."

"Of course I know what a school is," Danny replied, then hesitantly added, "Can I come?"

Sidney blinked. "You...want to come to school?"

Danny shrugged. "I'm curious about what new stuff students are learning since I was gone."

Despite himself, Sidney grinned. "I didn't know you were a fellow nerd."

"I'm not a nerd," Danny said, blushing. Sidney laughed and patted his shoulder.

"Don't worry, buddy. Being a nerd is actually pretty cool these days."

"You're joking, right?"

"Nope. Dungeons and Dragons is hot. Star Trek is mainstream. You have a lot to catch up on."

Danny didn't look like he believed him, which only made Sidney laugh more. "Come on, I'll bring you to school."

Casper High hadn't changed much in forty years, although the student body did grow. Some of the students cast curious glances at Danny as Sidney led him through the crowded hallways, but they didn't say anything. Well, except for one.

"Who do we have here?" a voice purred. Sidney groaned and turned to face the speaker.

"Hey, Aragon," he greeted with a strained smile.

Aragon looked...not as intimidating as Danny expected. He was thin, with a pimple-ridden face and greasy hair, but his sneer was enough to signify that he was a bad guy.

Aragon sized up Danny and said, "I haven't seen you around."

"This is Danny, my, uh...cousin," Sidney lied. "He's..."

"Homeschooled," Danny supplied. "But I'm curious about what regular schools are like, so Sidney offered to show me around his school." He lied so effortlessly that Sidney wondered if he had practiced it beforehand.

Aragon snickered. "Homeschooled? That's probably because you're too wimpy to be around other kids. Hey, Poindexter, why don't you join your cousin at home? It's not like anyone will miss you."

Sidney bristled. He thought of numerous insults he could throw at the bully, and he almost might have said one out loud, but then Danny spoke up and said, "You're not scary."

Aragon blinked. "Excuse me? My dad can probably buy your dad's company."

"I doubt that," Danny muttered.

Aragon bristled and almost said something back, but then a girl came and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Leave them alone, Aaron," she told him.

Sidney smiled when he saw it was Dora. He loved Dora--she was basically the anti-Aragon, kind to everyone. She caught his eyes and smiled back.

Aragon shrugged her hand away and scowled. "Fuck off, Dora. I'm pretty sure that guy just insulted me."

"He just said you aren't scary," Dora said, "which is true."

Sidney snorted. Aragon turned on him, but before he could speak, his condescending posture dissolved at the sight of a woman coming up to them. "Miss Pandora!" he said, suddenly sounding polite.

The tallest human Danny had ever seen stood over them with her hands on her hips. "What's going on here?"

"Nothing," Aragon told her, and he actually wrapped his arm amiably around Danny's shoulders and said with a smile, "We were just greeting Sidney's cousin here."

She raised her eyebrow and noticed Danny. "Cousin, eh?"

"He's homeschooled," Sidney said helpfully.

"Well, then! It's very nice of you to show him around." The teacher smiled at Aragon, and it took Sidney considerable effort not to roll his eyes. Pandora added, "Maybe you can let him take a lesson with you. Class is just about to start, you know."

"Yes, ma'am," Aragon said with a white-toothed smile and saluted her. Pandora passed them, and as soon as she turned a corner and left, Aragon pushed Danny away from him.

"Have fun at school, fuckhead," he said and laughed. He left, and Dora turned to him with a grimace.

"I'm sorry about my brother," she apologized.

Danny shrugged. "He's...interesting."

"What the fuck!"

The three teens turned to see Johnny standing in the hallway, glaring at Danny with his jaw agape. He strode to him, then jabbed a finger at his chest and demanded, "What are you doing in my school?"

"Stop that," Dora said. "Why is everyone intent on bullying the visitor?"

Johnny stared at her with disbelief written all over his face. "You don't know what he is, do you?"

Dora looked confused, but Danny just smiled and said, "Hey, Johnny. Thanks for helping me last night."

Johnny scoffed. "I didn't help you. That was all Ember."

"True, but at least you didn't stop her."

"I'm sorry, what's happening?" Dora asked, glancing between them.

Johnny scowled and said, "He's a zombie."

"Ghost, actually," Danny corrected.

Dora stared at them for a moment, and then she burst with laughter. Johnny raised his eyebrows and saw her with a hand over her mouth, eyes crinkled humorously. "Ghost! Ha ha."

Johnny frowned and said, "It's not--"

"It's a very funny joke!" Sidney interrupted. "I bet he even crawled out his grave."

He smirked at Dora as he said this, and Dora laughed harder. Sidney felt Johnny's eyes boring into him, but thankfully, the school bell chose that moment to ring. Dora wiped tears from her eyes and said to Danny, "Have a nice day, ghost boy."

"Will do," Danny replied with a toothy grin.

Dora left, but Johnny stuck behind. He sent a glare at Danny and stated, "I don't trust the undead." Then he turned to Sidney and added, "You shouldn't, either."

The way his eyes bore into him made goosebumps break out on Sindney's skin. Finally, Johnny turned and left, his shadow trailing behind him.

"What a great guy," Danny said after he was gone. Sidney tried to study his expression, but Danny was wearing an unreadably simple smile, and his hands were in his pockets. Danny's blue eyes met Sidney. "So, where's your class?"

Fuck, Ember thought as she sped down the hallway. She was late for class and Ms. Pandora was gonna kill her. She turned a corner, then stopped so suddenly she almost slipped on the linoleum floor.

The man in front of her turned around. He was wearing sunglasses indoors for some reason. On his chest sat a sherrif badge, and in his hand was her guitar. She had no idea what was with the glasses, but it obviously wasn't enough to stop her from recognizing him, nor quell her anxiety at his presence.

"You," he grunted, which erased any chance she had of escaping unnoticed.

Ember gulped and waved nervously. "Heyyy, Sheriff Walker. What are you doing here?"

Walker held forward her guitar. "Is this yours?"

Oh boy. Ember began to explain, "I swear, I didn't rob that grave. Heck, why would I even be in the graveyard? I don't know how this got there, you must have seen someone else--"

Walker ignored her and shoved the guitar at her. Then, to her surprise, he said, "Take it. I have no interest in it."

Walker? Letting someone go when he had a chance to arrest them? Ember eyed him and asked, "Who are you and what have you done to Walker?"

She had meant it as a joke, but the way he stiffened made her reconsider the truth of her statement. He said, "I don't care what happens to you, human," which Ember thought was a strange choice of words, "I only wish to know where the escapee is."

"The what?"

Walker (if that even was him) turned his attention away from her and focused on the hallway behind her. Now that Ember listened, she heard footsteps approach. She turned around and saw Sidney and...was that Danny? What was he doing in school?

Danny seemed to freeze up at the sight of Walker. Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought she saw his breath turn to mist as it escaped his mouth, which shouldn't have been possible because it wasn't cold enough inside the building. His eyes widened.

When she looked back at who may or may not have been Walker, she saw his face stretched in an unnerving grin. He walked around her and strode toward Danny, who somehow got stiffer the closer Walker got to him.

Ember didn't understand what was going on, but she knew enough to be able to tell that this not-Walker was bad news (yes, even worse than the real Walker) and that Danny seemed to be, for whatever reason, in danger. She shoved herself between not-Walker and Danny and said, "So, Sheriff, how's life?"

Not-Walker growled and shoved her away. Yep, that definitely was not Walker. Danny saw that he wasn't stopping and began to run away, but not-Walker grabbed his arm and tugged him back.

It didn't feel right, seeing the undead guy look so scared. Ember barely thought about her next action. She looked down at her guitar, remembered how good a weapon it made when she whacked Danny in the head last night, and swung it at the back of not-Walker's head. Not-Walker grunted and let go of Danny. His glasses fell to the floor, and when he turned around to glare at her, she froze--because his eyes were as red as blood. Ember was fairly certain that Walker's eyes were supposed to be green.

"Ember, get away! He's a ghost!" Danny warned.

Ember stared wide-eyed at Danny, and that was long enough for not-Walker's fist to connect with her gut and send her toppling backward. He didn't just punch her--he also sent a strange beam of green light that made her body buzz with electricity and sent her skidding across the hallway. She fell over and clutched her stomach, wheezing. She weakly raised her head enough to watch not-Walker grab Danny again and lift him up by his neck. Sidney was next to them, but he looked too paralyzed to help, and Ember was in too much pain to get up.

"Danny Phantom--" Danny Phantom? "--I see you're alive," not-Walker said with a sneer.

Danny quit struggling in not-Walker's grip long enough to gulp. "Alive? Nah. I'm just overshadowing someone, like you are."

"You think you can lie to me? I know what overshadowing senses like. You're alive." His cheeks looked like they were pulled back by invisible strings into a cruel smirk, and he added, "But if you're really only borrowing this body, then I suppose killing it won't do anything to you, would it?"

His grip around Danny's neck tightened, and Danny's struggling became strained. Why couldn't he just go intangible? Sidney looked like he finally snapped out of his paralysis, and he ran forward to help Danny with a yell of, "Let him go!" Unfortunately, he was quickly pushed back by the same weird light that attacked Ember.

"You're mortals," not-Walker growled. "You don't understand the laws that govern ghosts. The dead stay dead. Ressurecting oneself is a major crime--against the laws of the Ghost Zone and the laws of nature."

Cool, so it wasn't Walker, but he sure as hell was equally obsessed with arresting people. Or, well...executing them was more like it, if he continued to squeeze Danny's throat any longer. (Re-executing? What would happen if you die a second time?)

Ember gritted her teeth and pushed herself up. She may have only known Danny for less than a day, but there was no way she was letting the weirdest friend she'd had disappear so soon after she met him.

Without a second thought, she ran up to not-Walker, ignoring the pain in her gut, and shouted, "Hey, dipstick!" Not-Walker turned around but did not have time to prepare when her boot swung up and connected with his crotch.

Not-Walker cringed. Ember wasn't sure if the ghost was able to feel pain from inside Walker's body (probably not, because she was confident in the power of her kick) but the shock of being kicked in the private part was enough to loosen his grip on Danny. Danny, now able to breathe, took this opportunity to thrust his hand into not-Walker's face, and before she could blink, a bright burst of green light not unlike not-Walker's own attacks was released from his palm and roasted Walker's face.

Apparently, the ghost did feel pain from that, because he yowled and let go of Danny. Danny didn't waste any time after he landed before grabbing Ember and Sidney by the arms and sprinting down the hallway and around a corner, away from not-Walker's sight.

Danny kept running, pulling the two humans behind him. She didn't know how long they went--lockers and windows passed by in a blur--before he apparently thought they were far enough from the ghost possessing Walker and let go of their arms to slump on the floor and pant.

"Okay, what was that?" Sidney demanded.

"Yeah, and why did that guy call you Danny Phantom?" Ember added.

Danny didn't answer them at first, still catching his breath. Finally, he gulped and said, "So, that was the ghost police."

"I kind of figured," Ember said, remembering the ghost's words. "Resurrecting yourself is illegal?"

"Of course it is," Sidney said, staring at Danny, and Ember thought she saw a hint of wildness in his eyes. "It's unnatural! You're supposed to be dead!"

Danny flinched. Ember bit her lip and placed a hand on Sidney's shoulder. "Hey, man. What's done is done. Danny's alive now."

Sidney kept huffing for a moment before he covered his face with a hand and sighed. "No. I know. It's just...I wasn't expecting to be a attacked by a ghost-possessed Walker today."

"I mean, you did bring Danny to school," Ember pointed out. "Why did you bring Danny to school?"

"I asked to come," Danny answered.

"Why would you want to come to school? Are you a nerd?"

Danny looked about to argue, but then Sidney spoke up, "That's not important. That ghost inside Walker is still around. How do we get rid of him?"

Danny hummed thoughtfully. "Usually, in the Ghost Zone, we just duke it out with ghost powers, but I don't think that would work when I'm part human."

It was then that Ember finally noticed the way Danny was cradling his hands tenderly. She looked at his palm and saw it filled with slightly greenish blisters. Danny caught her looking and covered his palms, but she had already seen them. Guess that ghostly light attack was too hot for a human body to handle.

"Then what do we do?" Sidney asked.

Danny shrugged. "Maybe...are there myths about ghost weaknesses? Usually those have a little truth in them."

"What, you mean like, sprinkle salt on him?" Ember said with a raised eyebrow.

"Maybe," Danny said. "I--"

Whatever he was about to say was cut off when a blur came through the wall behind them, grabbed Danny, and went through the opposite wall. Ember and Sidney both stared slack-jawed as they tried to make sense of what just happened.

"Ghost," Sidney said.

"Salt," Ember said. "I'll go to the cafeteria."

"I think I also have something that might help," Sidney said. "I'll go get that."

There was no time for Ember to ask what thing Sidney had that might work against a ghost. The two teens separated and ran down different directions, Ember to the school cafeteria. She arrived to find it empty apart from the lunch lady behind the counter.

The lunch lady was humming to herself as she cooked...whatever the fuck school lunches were supposed to be. Ember tried to crouch near the wall and sneak into the kitchen. If she was lucky, she could grab the salt and dash without any confrontation...but she had no suck luck.

The humming stopped, and Lunch Lady said, "What are you doing outside of class?"

Ember closed her eyes and silently muttered a few curses before standing up in front of Lunch Lady with a smile. "Sorry. I just wanted to grab some salt...for a lab experiment."

"Salt? We have salt," Lunch Lady said sweetly.

"Great! I'd love some, please."

Lunch Lady grabbed a salt container, and Ember reached out for it eagerly, but the woman held it back with a frown. "If it's for a science class, why were you trying to sneak past me?"

"Me? Sneaking? I would never," Ember said, her smile straining. "I just thought it would be quicker...you know...so I don't waste any class time."

"Of course your teachers wouldn't want you to waste class time. That's why they're supposed to bring their own materials for experiments. I talked to them about that last year."

Ember winced. "They...forgot?" When Lunch Lady seemed unconvinced, Ember brought her hands together in a pleading gesture and said, "Please, I just want some salt. It won't even be long. I'll give it back."

Lunch Lady narrowed her eyes, like she was considering Ember's words. "Salt is a very important part of food, you know. Salt and meat."

Ember quirked an eyebrow. "I thought too much salt is a bad thing. Same with too much fatty meat."

She probably should have kept quiet. Lunch Lady's expression turned into a scowl, and she all but screeched, "Are you questioning my nutritional knowledge?"

Ember had met ghosts, but somehow, this lunch lady was more terrifying. Ember faltered and stammered, "Um, uh..."

She was saved by the large dirt explosion outside. Lunch Lady jumped and leaned forward, trying to look out the window with wide eyes. The salt container in her hand was in reach.

Ember snatched the salt from her and darted. Lunch Lady yelled at her, but Ember was already running away...toward the explosion she heard come from the track field outside. Somehow, she had a feeling that had something to do with Danny and that other ghost.

She emerged outdoors, and sure enough, Danny lay in a crater in the ground, looking worse for wear. Then Ember looked up at the enemy ghost and did a double take. Walker's body must have been left back inside the school, because the ghost wasn't possessing him anymore, which meant she could see his true, ghostly form.

Being near him set her hairs on edge and filled her with dull dread. He was glowing. His edges were blurry, like an old photograph. His skin was bright green and translucent, showing his skull underneath. He wore a suit that looked like it should have been black but was bleached white, and white sunglasses covered his eyes, although Ember had a feeling they were the same red shade that possessed-Walker had.

The ghost hovered over Danny's bruised form. Danny weakly pushed himself on his elbows, wincing all the way, and said, "Can't we talk about this, Operative?"

The ghost, Operative, retorted, "Sure, once you're in jail."

He aimed a hand at Danny, and Ember could tell he was about to attack. She ran toward him, shouted, "Hey! Want some salt with that?" and swung the salt at him.

Operative flinched--then blinked when the salt went through him without any effect. Ember faltered. "So...salt doesn't work."

"Salt?" Operative smirked. "I've heard about that. It has to be blessed to work against ghosts. And it must be pure salt, not table salt."

"Well, fuck," Ember muttered.

She shrieked and ducked out of the way as Operative ghost-blasted the spot where she stood. While she hit the grass, the ghost turned back to Danny and held him up by the neck. Danny was too weak to even struggle in his grip.

Just as Ember was beginning to lose hope, she saw Sidney enter her field of vision. Ember scrambled to her feet and joined him in running toward the ghost. "What did you get?" she asked.

Sidney, poor non-athletic nerd that he was, was panting too much from the process of sprinting as fast as he could to really talk, but he didn't need to. He stopped a short distance away from Operative and held up the object he brought for everyone to see: a reflective silver mirror.

Operative turned his head away from Danny for a moment to look at the mirror. "What is that? Do you want me to see my reflection?"

Ember was wondering about his plan, too. A mirror didn't sound very useful against ghosts. Even Sidney looked uncertain of himself, his knees knocking together in terror.

To his credit, he bravely ignored his fear and ran screaming at the ghost, swinging his mirror right down at him. She thought she saw the ghost's eyes widen at the last moment before he disappeared right into the mirror, somehow sucked up by the silver. Danny fell on his butt as Operative was gone.

Ember picked up her jaw and asked, "What was that?!"

"I have no idea," Sidney admitted, still wide-eyed from the fact his plan worked. "I just remembered hearing some stories about silver working against werewolves and vampires and guessed it must do something about ghosts, too."

"That was brilliant," Danny said, smiling from his spot on the ground. He was bruised all over and had second degree burns on his palms, but other than that, he seemed fine.

Now that the big scary ghost was gone and Ember's heartbeat was settling, she crossed her arms at Danny and said, "You didn't answer my question from earlier. Danny Phantom?"

"Right," Danny said, reaching to rub his neck then stopping when that made him wince. "Ghosts don't usually use each others' real names. It's...personal, I guess. So everyone goes by a nickname."

"That's why you don't like us calling you Daniel Fenton," Ember said, remembering the way he flinched when he got called that in the graveyard and at Sidney's--the same way he flinched just now as she said that.

"Yeah," he said. "That ghost we just fought, Operative...well, he's lucky because no one even knows his real name. He worked with the government back when he was alive. Everyone just calls him by his title--or the Guy in White."

"That makes sense, considering how blindingly white his suit was."

Sidney suddenly yelped, and Ember turned toward him to see that he had dropped his mirror onto the ground. She looked down at it and understood why. A swirling fog appeared on its surface before it morphed into the Guy in White's face.

She jumped when the ghost brought a fist forward and at pounded at the mirror's surface--but the mirror didn't even vibrate, much less fracture. He continued to pound uselessly and growled, "You can't keep me in this relic forever. Just as you can't escape your punishment. You're upsetting the balance between life and death. You--"

Sidney crouched and flipped the mirror over so that its reflective surface was lying face down against the dirt. The Guy in White's voice was muffled.

Danny crawled to them and struggled to push himself up. Ember went to his side and helped him stand, and as soon as he did, she recoiled and asked, "Where did your bruises go?"

Most of them were gone, and she watched as the ones that did remain seemed to glow green before fading away. Ember stepped away from him, and he stayed stable on his feet. "Healing," he said. "Injuries aren't permanent to ghosts. I guess I kept that part of me when I got resurrected."

"You brought yourself back from the dead," Sidney said. Ember turned to him and saw him staring at the mirror he had just flipped over. "That ghost mentioned something about balance."

"Dude, the Guy in White is just ghost Walker," Ember said. "He probably comes up with any lame excuse to jail people."

"But maybe he has a point," Sidney argued, glaring at Ember--and at Danny. "What makes you special enough to get ressurected? Why not everyone else who died--like my parents?"

"Sid--"

"No, he's right," Danny said. He hung his head guiltily, gazing down at his hands. The burns on his palms seemed to take longer to heal. "This was a mistake. I thought I could get my parents' invention to work--and I did--but I didn't think about the consequences. Maybe they gave up on it for a reason."

Ember tilted her head. "So...what? You kill yourself again?"

Danny bit his lip and shrugged. "I...I don't know."

Ember glanced between him and Sidney, who was shuffling in place uncomfortably. She thinned her lips and stood straight. "Well, I'm not letting you do that," she said to Danny. "I don't care if you were dead before. You're alive now."

"Technically, I'm only half alive," Danny mumbled. "I still have some ghostly attributes, but..." He glanced uncertainly at Sidney.

Sidney fidgeted, then crossed his arms and sighed. "I guess...if you're human now...there's no point in going against that. You may as well enjoy your time back. I'll accept that. No need to kill yourself."

Danny's shoulders relaxed. Sidney still had his arms crossed, but he didn't look as angry anymore. The muffled voice of the Guy in White still came from the upside-down mirror on the ground.

Ember prodded the mirror with her foot. "So, what do we do with him?"

"Break the mirror?" Sidney suggested.

"No," Danny said. "Who knows if that would get rid of him. It might just release him again."

"I still don't get how he even got here," Sidney said.

Danny shrugged. "A portal? Though, it seems a little convenient that a natural portal would open up right after I got revived..."

"Or maybe he followed you back to the human world," Ember said.

"But he's not alive..." Danny's eyes widened. "Unless--"

He grabbed the mirror off the ground and began to run.

"Hey, where are you going?" Sidney shouted.

Danny turned back to face them. "My revival must have opened a permanent portal," he told them. "I'm going to send Operative back to the Ghost Zone, and I'm going to see my parents."

"A portal? But where?"

Danny met Ember's eyes, and he knew the same thought went through their heads. "My grave," he said. Then he turned around and kept running.

Sidney and Ember glanced at each other in bewilderment. Then Ember shouted, "Wait up!" and ran after Danny.

"Wait! But what about school!" Sidney shouted.

Fuck school, Ember thought. Ghosts, zombies, portals--ever since Danny entered her life, her days became exciting, and there was no way she was missing any second of this.

#phic phight #danny phantom #species swap #au #fic #fanfiction #writing #mine #danny fenton #sidney poindexter #ember mclain

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gentlemanoftimetravel · 5 years

Text

Mos miraculous prompt #3

Pain. Pure pain. At first it was small. A tweak in the shoulder. An itchy back. A tingle in her fingers. Then it grow. Everything and everyone she touched get either really lucky or alive. Her shoulder blades grew and arched. She felt kinda stiff. Her habits changed slowly. Horror piled up inside her. And then her worst fears came to life.

It all started after her first year as Ladybug. The changes began slowly. At first her suit. It wasn’t just red with black dots anymore. Shoulder pats, a defined waist, black gloves and boots. And she feel something rummage at her back, but every time she tried to look in a mirror she didn’t see anything abnormal.

Then the Akumas. The more Akumas and sometimes Amoks she purified, the more she feels the dark energy within them. And sometimes she had a feeling that it lingered inside of her. Maybe that would explain her new powers. Even as Marinette she could sense a infected Butterfly within a reach of one Kilometer. Additional she can feel negative emotions within her reach. And sometimes she only need to touch the upset person to lighten the mood.

She consulted Fu about her observations. About her growing fear and the strange feeling on her back. About the changes in her suit and the partly changing in her daily habits. But Fu only said it was her imagination. The stress of being a heroine and leader of the group of Superheros. And the suit will change as she grew.

After two years of fighting against Hawkmoth her symptoms got worse.

Every time she touches someone she likes, that person gets really lucky for his next goal. Nino for example get a gig at a big party. Alya an internship at a news station. Adrien’s photo shoot got cancelled right im time so he could hang out with his friends. Jagged’s new album breaks every record. Kitty Section achieve her international breakthrough. And her Parents Bakery can’t save themself from new orders.

In the Time of these events she discovered another abnormality. Every time she touches someone she dislikes *cough* Lila *cough* she could transfer a little bit of the captured bad energy. Sometimes Lila trips and falls. Sometimes her lies doesn’t add up. And on rare occasions her stuff breaks or get sadly thorn apart due to carelessness.

Then there’s the thing with her crafts. She got plenty new commissions for her Clothings. Not only from classmates or relatives but also Jagged and Clara are one of her permanently customers. And then there’s her 'fun stuff'. Her little dolls came to life. Helping her and cuddling with her. Gifts from her could be considered as a private Lucky Charm and if always on someone’s body the day could only go perfect.

She talked with Chat about her new 'powers'. But he only talked about his personal Lucky Charm (herself) and how he is lucky that she is his partner. That she thinks too much and that she should relax from time to time. Maybe on a date with him?

With Rena, Carapace and Queen Bee it was the same. Thought with other words and intentions but nobody take her seriously.

The third year started with more pain. On cold days she felt really stiff and on warm she felt really excited. Her balcony is like a flower paradise now. Her back hurts and arched. Her shoulder blades showed little black dots. As Ladybug her suit grew wings. Which didn’t help to prevent her growing horror.

She talked to Fu again but he only explains the same things he said two years ago. She just imagines it all. She should not worry so much, everything will be fine again.

Tikki tried to reassure her chosen. But she could feel the uncertainty within her. But Tikki can’t tell her the truth as long as Fu didn’t approve of it.

Four years as Ladybug demands everything from Marinette. She tried to avoid most of physical contact in her daily life. She don’t want to be again considered as a 'Lucky Charm' by people who tried to only use her for their own pleasure. Her gifts decreased to just a handful. Only her closet friends get still presents.

Her wings were nearly fully developed. She guessed only one year and then she had full access to wings. The pain growing stronger and stronger each day that passed.

She withdrew and buried herself in her work. She rarely sets a foot past her door and even her parents were clueless about her daughters behaviour.

Chat, Fu and Tikki still do not care about her worries. Even her growing wings didn’t bother any of them.

Despite everything, she fulfills her duties as Ladybug. But the more power she uses, the worse her symptoms will get. A vicious circle.

The fifth year finally arrives.

Her wings were fully developed now. Her suit had another change. Her personality also. The pain not as strong as last year but nethertheless present.

Marinette was just tired. So tired. The fights against Hawkmoth, the eternal flirt from Chat Noir, Fu’s ignorance, her pain and changes and then Tikki.

She knew that they are all lying to her. She suspected it since her first changes. But she didn’t know the reason. The true reason for their secrecy. But she was so tired of it all.

After an really hard Akuma attack with a Sentimonster as backup and Chat as himself she couldn’t take it any longer. She gets home and had a breakdown.

She cried and sobbed. All her pain and agony came crashing down on her. As Tikki tried to comfort her she couldn’t take it any longer.

“You lied to me!! Why does everyone lie to me?!” Marinette scream through tears. “I’m sorry Marinette” a little voice rang out “would you have done your duty if you knew the price?”

“Who knows! We will never know! You all never leave me a chance to decide if I truly wanted all of this. You all just decided for me that it’s for the greater good.”

A new series of sobs emerged her throat. “Why Tikki? Why didn’t you tell me earlier? You saw what I was going throu. You knew my pain. Tikki!”

“I’m so sorry Marinette. The Guardian ...”

“The Guardian! Pah! He and his secretiveness. You saw what happened with his Sentimonster 'Feast'. The nearly Desaster. And despite everything you trusted him more than your own chosen. No Tikki, this isn’t about the Guardian. This is about the leak of trust. From all of you.”

With that she buried herself in a pile of blankets and continued her sobs. Tikki flew on top of it and tried to comfort Marinette as well as all of her little dolls.

———————

@miraculous-of-salt

So here is the third prompt :D

Have fun reading and I hope you enjoyed it!

Im looking forward to the next prompt ^_^

#mos prompts #miraculous prompts #miraculous ladybug #tales of ladybug and cat noir #chat noir #marinette dupain cheng #ml tikki #tikki and plagg #Ladybug

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toomuchponytail · 5 years

Text

#Bridge plan or Prompt #20 Continued.

So I’m tagging anyone who expressed their interest in part two, (part one here ) I hope that’s okay? If you’d like your name removed I will gladly do so!

@maybeawhumpblog @silverinkgoldenquill @rollingtacoboulder @redwingedwhump @whatwasmyprevioususername

Here is the bridge plan, enjoy if you like the destruction of infrastructure and thievery! This is a long one....I put a keep reading, also it kind of went off on it’s own, I tried to reign it in, but I’m not in charge anymore.

Enjoy, I’m sorry.

The antagonist was the last person to take a seat at the meeting, their back was sore and they were tired after sitting for so many hours watching over hero, they were only here now because their physician was with hero, and had promised to call them if they woke up--not that the antagonist expected them to, hero was exhausted, they’d probably sleep until noon or later. When hero woke up, they’d have to get some more information about where sidekick might be, (they were still waiting to hear back from one of the search groups) but until then, the antagonist had a unique meeting to attend.

Their henchman stood up when they entered the boardroom, nodding a half greeting, they motioned the little boy sitting next to them who was completely focused on the picture he was coloring, to the antagonist it looked like long black swirls and lines, “Here he is boss, criminal mastermind in the flesh,” henchman beamed at them fondly.

The antagonist couldn’t help but smile in return at the little boy with dark curly hair and freckles, it was almost laughable for anything this soft and sweet looking to be labeled a criminal mastermind.

The child didn’t look up when the antagonist took a seat on the other side of the table, but the antagonist could tell that they were watching them out of the corner of their eye, sizing them up.

The henchman nudged his nephew gently, “Go a’head Augie, tell ‘im.”

The antagonist wasn’t sure what to expect, but they leaned forward, having already heard an abridged version of this kid’s idea he was interested to learn more.

But “Augie” shook his head, and continued to color, refusing to meet his uncles eyes, “He’s gonna steal it,” the boy mumbles.

The antagonist speaks before their henchman can apologize, “We’d be business partners,” they reassure, “I won’t use your idea unless you let me.”

The child stopped coloring, set their crayon down, and looked at the antagonist squarely across the table, “I’d be a bad guy?” They start carefully, like they are expecting the antagonist to laugh or yell at them.

“Well, I don’t think I’m really the bad guy, do you?” The antagonist asks, their mind returning to the fragile hero sleeping on their sofa.

The child shrugs their tiny shoulders, it very much reminds the antagonist of their henchman’s shrug. “I like bad guys,” they admit, looking at their picture.

The antagonist glances over at their henchman, but they are looking at the picture too, “Do you want to be a bad guy? Just for today?” The antagonist asks carefully, after all they don’t want to corrupt Augie, or make him complicit in any illegal activity.

The child suddenly jumps up on their chair, their eyes sparkling with excitement, “like you? Like Uncle Fred? I’d get to fight people with my big fist launchers?!”

The antagonist raised their eyebrows, they look pointedly at their sputtering henchman, “what’s a fist launcher?”

Their henchman shrugs, looking bewildered, “Heck if I know boss.”

The antagonist smiled, turning back to the child, “Exactly like me and your uncle, I’d like to start with your plan about the bridge? If that’s okay?”

The child nods eagerly, pushing their picture across the table to the antagonist, “I colored it!”

The antagonist is taken aback, the seemingly abstract shapes and swirls were the moldings of the Florence street bridge, the closest one to them, on the bridge was an armored money truck, a group of crayon figures are set around it, one of the crayon figures was wearing a crown.

The antagonist looks up at the tiny child who is grinning widely, proudly, “You like it?” Augie’s voice is almost a shriek.

“I do, It’s very good,” the antagonist smiles back, “Can you explain it to me?”

“Sure!” The boy gets out of his chair and runs around the table.

“Augie, can’t you show him from...” But before the henchman can finish his sentence the child has climbed into the antagonist's lap without any sense of hesitation, the antagonist and their henchman freeze as the boy settles in his lap, grabbing the drawing from the antagonist's hands.

“B-boss I’m so sorry, I didn’t--” their henchman starts, they’ve gone a little pale, their hands twisting nervously as they start forward to take the child, but the antagonist raises a hand.

The child looking back at their uncle from their seat in the antagonist’s lap smiles and waves at them, “it’s okay uncle Fred, we’re friends, business partners.”

The antagonist laughs at that, and can’t resist ruffling the boys hair gently, they turn back to their henchman, a teasing smile on their lips, “That’s right, uncle Fred, business partners.”

The henchman laughs back somewhat awkwardly, it feels a bit odd to have his boss, the antagonist, one of the “bad guys” in the city call him uncle Fred.

But the child is explaining now, pointing to the crayon drawing, and the antagonist is listening intently, about half-way through his eyes begin to glimmer in a way that the henchman recognizes.

“So that’s you,” Augie explains, pointing to the crayon figure in the crown, the antagonist never wore a crown, didn’t even own one, but he liked the symbolism.

“Right.”

“And the others are my uncle and his friends,” Augie pointed to the others, “The police can’t get on, because you told them not to, or you’ll blow up the bridge!”

“Uncle Fred drills into the truck, and you get the money,” Augie falters, “I didn’t draw that part.”

“S’okay, I understand.”

“Then when you all get off on your side you blow up the bridge!” Here Augie interjects a mocking laugh, like he was playing the part of the antagonist in the plan, “Like that,” he elaborates.

The antagonist nods, the plan was so simple it was almost sad that he hadn’t thought of it by himself, but it was a little disappointing to be fair, the henchman had set it up like this was going to be an empire making move, not a simple cash grab, but it would work, that alone was impressive. He shouldn’t have passed his judgement so soon, Augie was just getting started.

“Don’t rob the bank,” The boy finished, “Rob the truck, and then, when the bridge is gone the police can’t get you!” Augie beamed, “That’s the cover, it’s a trick! Then all of the other trucks coming in from the ocean--the tankers? They all have to come through this street,” Augie points to a tiny cross drawn X, “It’s far away from the police, and right by your house!”

The antagonist almost chokes, he looks down at the boy in his lap with his both awe and excitement, “All of the traffic would have to come down seventh street after the bridge went” he muttered to himself, the bridge was the main way out of the neighborhood,destroy it and you create a bottle neck, one he’d be perfectly poised to profit from, plus it was something none of the others would ever see coming, he hadn’t seen it at all.

It had taken a child with a unique eye for villainy to see it, the antagonist laughed, although not unkindly, children were the future after all.

“Augie, you’re a genius,” the antagonist chuckled, clearly impressed, the boy smiled at the praise.

“Is it good?” Their henchman asked, leaning across the table expectantly.

‘It’s brilliant,” Not only would taking out the Florence street bridge give him access to all of the bank trucks and delivery vehicles, including all of the supplies from his rivals, if he’d cut off their supplies and attack them, he’d be the top dog in a month. He’d be able to get rid of the gangs, all the infighting and bloodshed, and if he needed anything, for example, information on where to find a certain sidekick, he could catch any crime boss in a very reasonable amount of time. Those city slickers always ran at the first sign of trouble, leaving their seconds to command their guys, except this time they’d be running right to the antagonist’s front door.

It was perfect.

“We’re going to celebrate,” the antagonist declared, letting Augie off before standing and giving the boy a high five.

“Are we going to have pizza? “Augie shrieked, his eyes wide at the possibility.

The antagonist laughed, “Sure,” he looked over at his henchman, “Bring them up to where hero is in an hour or two,” he beamed at Augie, “Or whenever you’re done showing my new business partner around my base, we’ll have a pizza party.” Their henchman nodded, smiling themselves as the child whooped in excitement behind them.

When the antagonist left their boardroom they checked their phone, frowning slightly, hero should be up by now, they dialed a number as they walked down the corridor.

“Hello?” The deep monotone voice of their physician instantly calmed their nerves, they sighed in relief.

��How’s hero doing?” they started, feeling a little silly for calling, they could walk to where hero was in a few minutes.

“Still out, must have been some time since they’ve slept.”

“That’s what I though too, I’d hoped we’d have sidekick back here when they woke up but so far I haven’t heard anything,” the antagonist’s tone gave away a little of their frustration, all of their guys were accounted for except one group of two, having checked their special network and gotten back to the antagonist before the sun had come up, they figured that they were going to have to check up on their missing guys themselves after they’d gotten off of the phone.

They didn’t get a chance to.

The intruder alarm shattered through the easy silence of the base, the antagonist froze, “Don’t let anyone into the room with you doctor, keep hero safe,” they could hear hero’s voice groggily in the background when they hung up, no doubt woken by the piercing alarm.

The antagonist started towards the main office, the hub for all of the activity, they ran into Augie and his uncle on the way. Their henchman looked scared, Augie’s eyes were radiant, “Do we know what’s going on boss?”

“Not yet, but take your nephew into one of the small inner offices and lock yourselves in, if you pass anybody tell them to meet me up here.”

The henchman didn’t need to be told twice, but then again he’d always been good at following orders, he steered a protesting Augie in the direction of the offices.

The antagonist waited for them to get into one safely before continuing on, the antagonist was reaching for the handle on the door to the hub when it was blown off of it’s hinges, the door hit him with enough force to smash him into the wall, his head bouncing off of the concrete with a dull thud, he groaned from his position on the floor as his world spun, he tried weakly to push the heavy metal door off of himself, before he could make much headway darkness closed over him. Then there was something wet and hot dripping down his neck, he didn’t remember sitting up but he could tell that not much time had passed, his vision was still blurring and his head felt like it was splitting open as he tried to focus his eyes. Somewhere someone was screaming, he wanted to get up but he couldn’t get his legs to cooperate, when he looked down he saw why, the door had fallen on them, effectively pinning him to the floor. When he tried to move he felt a tearing pain shoot through his left leg, and he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out at the sharpness of it.

He fumbled for his phone, his hands feeling oddly numb, when he managed to get it out he was relieved to see that only about ten minutes had passed since his last call, he hit redial and closed his eyes to keep himself focused.

“Antagonist, what is going on?” The physician's voice was a little more than monotone now, a frantic edge had crept into it.

“Ar-are you b-both still safe?” The antagonist was surprised at how weak his voice sounded, he had to focus to hear the doctor over the ringing in his ears.

“We’re locked in, someone was banging on the door but they’re gone now.”

The antagonist realizes that the hallway is starting to get hazy again, “Mmh, if you think hero is up for it, can you and him come get me? I’m in an interesting mess right now,” the antagonist looks down at the blood pooling under the door, they couldn’t lift it, but hero could. How absolutely stereotypical, calling a hero for help when times were darkest.

“He started it,” the antagonist mumbles to themselves.

There is muffled talking on the other end, the antagonist can make out hero’s voice, then the physician is on the line again, “We’re coming, where are you?”

“M’outside the hub,” the antagonist’s voice is too loud, not that they can hear it, “Get Augie n’uncle Fred out of the offices, be s-safe.”

“What are you talking about? Who’s uncle Fred?” But the antagonist can’t hear them anymore, the buzzing has gotten much too loud, their legs barely hurt at all anymore, but their head is bursting, they are so tired, maybe the most tired they’ve ever been, they wonder briefly, sleepily, if this is what hero felt like. It only gets worse with each passing second, finally they can’t keep awake anymore, and they sink below into nothingness.

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alltheangstmygifttoyou · 3 years

Text

Pie

A/N: Hello! This is a Learn To Be short that is not canon and brought on by a prompt which is the title.

Summery: Malcolm finds out Noah has never had pie and insists that they must do everything in their power to get him one.

Word Count: 1880

TW: Let me know if I need to tag for anything

"What do you mean you've never had pie??" Malcolm exclaimed, flabbergasted at the lanky boy in front of him. Noah ducked his face into his knees from his sitting position on the floor. They were in the section fifteen boys dormitory, Malcolm had insisted they do a slumber party but in order to not disturb either of their roommates they had to do it in the main hall. Noah was anxious yet also excited. He had never been to a slumber party before. So far Noah got the idea that his first slumber party wasn't a conventional one. The first thing that had happened when he had arrived was Malcolm trying to set up a pillow fort with one dirty mattress, two ratty blankets, a ripped bean bag seat, two chairs that were each missing a leg, and a two seat couch. Noah had made forts at his house that looked a bit like this disaster, so he helped Malcolm with the construction and they managed to use the chairs and the couch to throw one blanket over their heads while they sat on the mattress and rested on the pillow with the other blanket spread over their legs. The next thing Malcolm had suggested was a pillow fight but with only one pillow that idea was tossed out the window. The third thing suggested was scary movies, but they had no movies to watch and no way to watch them. None of this deterred Malcolm, the older boy had so much energy that Noah wondered if his power somehow gave him extra. The fourth selection had been truth or dare. This had worked, although Noah was pretty sure it was supposed to be played in bigger groups. Also Noah was pretty sure he was being annoying because he kept picking truth but dares were scary! Still Malcolm hadn't yelled at him yet, at least, until now.

"Um, I don't know, I've just never had pie?" Noah squeaked hoping that his lameness hadn't pushed Malcolm over the edge into hating him. Malcolm fell back with his hand on his forehead sighing.

"You wound me! I've been slain. The knowledge that a young man could go a whole sixteen years without pie is too much for me." Malcolm gasped out.

"I'm only fourteen though..." Noah whispered and Malcolm sat up squinting at him.

"But you're taller than me. You can't be three years younger than me and taller than me. That's just not fair." Malcolm said and Noah raised his shoulders and gave an awkward smile.

"I'm sorry?" He said and Malcolm clapped him on the shoulder not roughly but it still made him flinch and smiled at him.

"It's nothing to be sorry about! Now back to the important stuff. You've never had pie. This needs to be rectified." Malcolm said and brought his hand up to rub his chin while he hummed. Noah untucked from himself a little bit and pondered the predicament as well. He had been to learn to be for five years and they had never once served pie. And students weren't allowed near the kitchen. There was a life lessons class that included cooking but kids in section fifteen couldn't take it. And even then there was no guarantee they made pie in that class. Though there was a kitchen area for it. And stocked ingredients.

"Do you know how to make pie Malcolm?" Noah asked hesitantly. Malcolm broke out of his trance like humming and blinked, looking up to Noah.

"No, why?" Malcolm responded.

"Oh um it's nothing, I just thought we could use the life lessons room to make a pie-" Noah explained and Malcolm was bouncing.

"That's a great idea! We can bake a pie together! I haven't had pie in over a decade! I can't wait to have pie, we should invite Elena too! And here i was just thinking that we trade something with Jesse so he could buy us one." Malcolm said laughing and Noah realized that was a much safer option. For one they wouldn't get in any trouble for it, for two, the pie was much likelier to taste better.

"Actually Malcolm, I think that's a great idea-" Noah tried again but Malcolm had already climbed out the fort and was pacing talking to himself.

"So we can't break in tonight because the hallway to the nearest life lessons classroom is patrolled tonight but on Thursday it won't be so if we grab Elena then we'll have better eyes to see. So we just need to make sure neither Jesse nor Jester find out about this-" Malcolm was pacing, planning, plotting out their routes and times through the hall as if this were a life or death mission and not a plan to try and bake a pie.

"But Malcolm neither of us know how to bake a pie." Noah tried for a third time to get through to the boy but Malcolm waved a hand at him.

"How hard can it be? I've had pie plenty of times and it always tasted good. Im sure I can figure it out." Malcolm said and Noah did not have it in him to try and argue once again. So instead he sat with Malcolm and helped him get the details of the pie heist down.

* * *

It was Thursday night and Noah was much more anxious than he had been three nights ago. He had managed to keep his mouth shut about the plan around Jester and Elena seemed to be fine with the plan. They were all meeting outside the boys dormitory at 11:30pm. Noah was already there ten minutes early already going over all the different ways this would go wrong in the end. They definitely were going to get caught, and then they'd be expelled and he'd be thrown in jail for the rest of his life all because he wanted to taste some pie! But he couldn't duck out now, Malcolm was so excited and really, really, wanted Noah to taste some pie. Noah still didn't expect the pie to taste good but he'd do it for his friend. Elena was the second to arrive and she smiled and waved at Noah who smiled and raised a hand back. The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable but it was tense for Noah, who couldn't help but notice the way Elena's eyes were tracking the dark hallways of the school, checking for patrolling guards and teachers. Noah hadn't even been thinking of doing that, too busy being wrapped up in his own head. He was tempted to smack his forehead but was worried the smack would alert someone of their presence. Finally Malcolm arrived, creaking open the dorm door and peeking out and smiling brightly at the two of them. He came out the door with a flashlight in hand and the three of them started off, with Malcolm in the lead and Elena in the rear. During the planning Malcolm had made sure that Noah would protected at every step, he never wanted Noah alone on this "mission." Noah didn't really want to be alone so he was fine with that. The school was huge, the size of a large city, even the closest life lessons classroom was a forty minute walk away from the dorms. They had to stop around corners and check, and only use the flashlight in emergencies. Noah was all too aware of his footsteps while he walked with these two, who had both somehow seemed to learn to walk silently. By the time they were halfway there Noah was sweating and his legs ached and they had had to stand there silently praying while a guard walked past them in the night. But they were making it, and every now and then Malcolm or Elena would take his hand and squeeze it to reassure him it was okay. By the time they finally got to the room Malcolm gave Elena the flashlight and they switched positions. Elena pulled a hair pin out of her pocket and began fiddling with the lock and held the flashlight with her teeth. Soon the door clicked open and they made it inside. Successfully in the room Malcolm let out a big sigh. He pulled all the curtains down in the room so no one could see inside and Elena turned on the flash light and looked around. Noah followed her example and looked too. It looked like someone had shoved a restaurant kitchen into the back of a classroom. A chalkboard was up front along with a projection screen and desks and chairs laid before it. There was a backroom next to what looked like the teachers desk and Elena was already heading towards it and picking its lock. Noah followed her and inside was a room full of ingredients. Noah had mostly made instant food all his life. He had the basic idea of cooking. He hadn't the foggiest idea about baking. Though he heard it was a lot like chemistry which he was good at. Malcolm came in and stared at all the ingredients before seemingly grabbing them at random and directing Elena and Noah to carry things back to the kitchen. Noah examined the kitchen area to see if there were any recipes lying about and went to the teachers desk to check but there was nothing. This did not deter Malcolm who started giving restaurant manager-like orders to Noah and Elena who just did as he said. The measurements did not seem right to Noah but he had never eaten a pie before so how would he know. If Elena thought anything wrong with what they were doing she didn't show it. She just pouted when Malcolm rubbed flour on her nose. Eventually they had made something that sorta looked like dough and Malcolm had them mash strawberries and apples into some sort of lumpy almost liquid and dump that into the dough covered pan. Then they put another layer of dough and put it in the oven to bake for twenty minutes. Noah, while pretty sure whatever was coming out of that oven would taste worse than vomit, was pretty satisfied. He liked working with his hands. Malcolm and Elena seemed pretty happy too. Then Malcolm threw some flour at Elena who tossed some back and he tossed more at her but it hit Noah and Noah without thinking much of it threw it back and there was an all out flour war in the kitchen that went until the oven beeped. All of them covered in the white powdery substance stared at the still not very appetizing meal before them. Malcolm grabbed a fork and just dug in. He made noises of pleasure so Elena took her fork and dug in as well. Noah did right after her and put it in his mouth only to find out what a burnt apple and strawberry tasted like at the same time. He gagged and spit it out and Malcolm laughed, choked, and did the same.

"Okay! So now we know that's not how you make a pie. Good job gang, well get it next time. For now we have to wash off this flour.” Malcolm said with a smile.

#learn to be #orginal fiction #writeblr

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raibebe · 5 years

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Lifesaver

Genre: Fluffy horror Words: 1.777 Prompt: Vampire Hyungwon almost starved himself and really needs some blood For @im-a-special-bebe A/N: I think in my original example prompt the girlfriend didn’t know about Hyungwon being a vampire but I’m scratching that because it just worked out better like this and it’s also probably more intense than it had to be... Also this has been betaed by the lovely @kihyunsbabe 🖤 Warnings: blood, self-harm (somehow, kinda)

Vampire: A living corpse that drinks blood of the living by biting their necks with long, pointed canine teeth to quench their never ending thirst

A loud knock on your door disrupted the silence of your apartment which was draped in darkness only broken by the blue light of the screen of your laptop. You snapped out of your stupor and squinted at the clock on the wall. Groaning you dragged a hand through your hair. You had been staring at the blank page of your document for over an hour now but didn’t type anything besides your name and the course you were supposed to write the paper for which was due to the end of the week.

It’s not that you didn’t like the class or didn’t know what you should write about but you just couldn’t focus. You mind was wandering the second you weren’t distracted by your friends or the lectures you had to attend. Being worried about your boyfriend not contacting you for a little over a week may sound stupid but when he had left, he hadn’t said where he was going, just that he needed to attend to some family business with his extended family. You were always antsy when he mentioned his family, especially his extended family. For other people that meant meeting a creepy uncle or a noisy aunt asking you when you would finally get married or your cousin boasting about how many sales he had this week alone. But for Hyungwon it meant that he had to face his creator and his brothers and sisters. And judging by the urgency of the meeting, it seemed like one of his so called siblings - not by birth but by rebirth as he liked to call it - might have either gone rouge or a newborn wasn’t able to control themselves.

Neither of the options seemed good and Hyungwon had often told you stories about his brothers and himself getting hurt whilst trying to hunt the other vampires down for the safety of their family and their race. He had told you that the government and the police knew very well that creatures like him existed but did everything to keep it hidden, so the general public wouldn’t panic but if a clan would decide to go rouge and reveal themselves there would be nothing to stop it. The way they were hunted down by special police forces was brutal enough, you didn’t dare to imagine how it would escalate if everyone knew of their existence.

Another harsh knock on your door ripped you from your thoughts. Shouting an affirmative noise, you got up from where you were seated on your work desk and padded over to the wooden door of your apartment.

When you opened the door, your heart dropped and stopped beating for a second. In the dark hallway before you was standing your boyfriend. His white hair was dishevelled, clothes torn and dried blood clung to his pale hands. He smiled weakly at you, showing his canine teeth but the smile wasn’t reaching his bright red eyes and he leaned heavily against the doorframe. Without saying anything, you grabbed his slender waist and threw one of his thin arms around your shoulder so you could support him on your way into your apartment. When you sat him down on your couch, he almost melted into the pillows, his head dangling over the back of the couch, eyes losing their focus.

Climbing into his lap, you grabbed his ice-cold face between your palms, forcing him to look at you. “What do you need, Won?” You asked, voice trembling with fear. You had never seen him in a state like this. His eyes would turn more and more red the more thirsty he got but it also made him more aggressive and eerie, not weak like this. He had fed just before he left, you knew that. So he shouldn’t be this starved. “Blood,” he said weakly, voice not more than a breath, sounding hoarse as if he had been screaming. Nodding you got up to go to your fridge to see if there were blood bags left, but his hands weakly wrapped around your arm. “That won’t do,” he breathed out, his head falling back again, his hand losing the grip he had on you.

Cursing you rolled the long sleeve of your sweater up, holding your wrist up for him to bite you. Ever since you had been together he had refused to feed from your neck. It was supposed to hurt way less than doing it from the wrist area but he didn’t like that you weren’t able to stop him like that, not confident in his ability to stop himself even though he was far from being a newborn who was new to feeding from a living being he didn’t want to kill. But even though he had his lips parted and his canines were shining in the low light of your computer screen, he didn’t bite you. Brushing the hair from his forehead, you gently pressed your wrist against his lips. “Drink, Won,” you urged him on, bracing yourself for the pain which was about to come, screwing your eyes shut. But it never came. Instead Hyungwon went limb in your hands, every tension leaving his body. “Won?” “Hyungwon?” “Chae Hyungwon?!” You called him, your voice climbing higher in pitch and getting louder with each call of his name.

Cursing you jumped off of him and the couch and raced to the kitchen to find a knife. Ripping open random drawers as well as crashing several kitchen utensils, you finally grabbed a large, sharp knife and dashed back into the living room. With trembling hands you brought the knife to the skin on your wrist. A whimper left your lips when you pulled the knife over your flesh, breaking the skin. The sound of the bloody knife falling to the ground echoed load in the room when you broad your wrist to Hyungwon’s lips again, the dark red fluid streaming past his lips, staining them and his face. Praying to whichever god might be listening, you stroked his hair when he still wasn’t moving, tears collecting on the corners of your eyes not only because of the pain in your wrist. Willing them back, you screwed your eyes shut and tried to stop your bleeding arm from trembling so you wouldn’t make even more of a mess.

When a sudden pain shot through your whole body, your eyes snapped back open and were met with the almost glowing blood red eyes of Hyungwon whose fangs had pierced through your skin to get even more of your blood flowing. Whimpering, tears of relief began flowing down your face when you saw how with every drop of blood leaving your body, Hyungwon’s strength seemed to come back to him. But while his strength came back to him, your head began to feel light. The exhaustion that came with letting a vampire feed from you washing over you faster than it had ever before which was no surprise when you considered the big wound on your wrist and the way his Adam’s apple was bobbing with every gulp of blood he swallowed.

“Hyungwon, stop. It’s enough,” you told your boyfriend through gritted teeth. But he didn’t seem to even hear the words or recognize your words; simply trailing his tongue over the cut to make more blood flowing into his mouth. For the first time you were thankful that Hyungwon would always refuse to feed from your neck, at least giving you some kind of chance to get him off of you even though he possessed unnatural strength. Gently caressing Hyungwon’s cheek with your free hand, you threaded your fingers through his hair before grabbing a handful of the shorter hair at his nape to yank at the strands.

This seemed to make him snap out of it: His glowing eyes snapped open and his lips left your wrist to curl back to expose his bloody teeth in an animalistic snarl. Shrieking in fear you yanked your injured hand from his grip, making you fall from the couch, blood droplets falling on the cushions and the carpet. But you didn’t have time to even acknowledge any of that, your vision turning black when your head connected to the couch table with an unpleasant sound.

When you regained your senses, your body felt unusually heavy like there were weights pulling your limps down into the soft material of the bed and keeping your eyes shut. You could make out faint noises, soft whispering, muffled through the door of your bedroom. Slowly and with much effort you managed to open your eyes. The heavy curtains of your room had been pulled close, so it was impossible to judge how long you had been unconscious. A soft whimper left your lips when you tried to lift yourself up to look at the time, a splitting pain shooting through your head.

Not even a second later, the door to your bedroom opened and Hyungwon poked his head through, smiling when he saw you were awake. Before you would express how worried you had been about him, he beat you to it. “I was so worried, you wouldn’t wake up. You have been out for almost twelve hours,” taking your bandaged hand from under the covers, he sat down on the edge of the bed. “I thought I took too much. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come to you like this. I wasn’t in my right mind, if you hadn’t pulled me off, I didn’t know what would have happened. Please forgive me.” He sighed, toying with the bandages on your wrist, avoiding to look you right in the eye.

Smiling weakly, you intertwined your fingers with his. “What happened, Won? I thought you were dead for a second,” you asked him. “I am dead, sweetheart,” he answered bitterly. “You just went limb and wouldn’t even drink at first, Won. I’ve never seen you like this and it scared me.” He finally met your gaze, his own eyes dark and wide in confusion. “THAT scared you? Not how I couldn’t stop feeding off of you?” “Well, I got you off, didn’t I?” You asked shyly, hiding yourself beneath the fluffy blanket so Hyungwon wouldn’t see the blush creeping up your cheeks.

Shaking his head in disbelief, he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head before he laid down next to you, placing his head on your chest so he could listen to your heartbeat.

“It’s not going to happen again, I promise”, he whispered softly.

“I love you,” you answered before closing your eyes again and drifted back to sleep.

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kelseyfitzherbert · 5 years

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If ur still accepting some writing ideas, how about some new dream angst?

(ok you asked for it. blame @eternalserenity because they sent me some angsty prompts and ‘rapunzel being stuck when eugene needs her help’ is the one im going with)

tw: war (attacks?) & death mention? I dunno

I guess im not sure how to tag this but I feel like I should just in case and ill throw it under a read more

Corona was a calm city; a beacon of peace. Their symbol was the sun, after all, symbolizing bright and shining and happiness. Since coming to the castle, Rapunzel has realized that while something can claim peace on the outside, sometimes it’s not so peaceful on the inside. She’d sat in in a few meetings with her father to see how Corona handled opposition and conflict and, truth be told, the meetings terrified her. Talks of invasions and weapons scared her, but her father reassured her that they were empty threats and the few little tiffs here and there were always handled with dignity on their side and never escalated.

Until today.

Nobody saw it coming. They thought it was just another ship coming in to dock. But once it got close enough, they were shooting with everything they had. Shooting round shots through cannons onboard, guns and arrows. It was a full-scale attack on the city that claimed it was an example of peace.

It was also exactly when Eugene and Rapunzel were coming back over the bridge after a day exploring the woods.

He would’ve taken her back across and into the safety of the woods, but the bridge had been blow to pieces in the middle; trapping the island and its inhabitants. He had to think fast because they were right in the middle of it and he needed to get her safe and her feet weren’t moving because she was terrified.

“Rapunzel, we have to move. Now!” He screamed, trying to make his voice louder than the yelling and blasts and gunshots around them. When she didn’t move, he went to pick her up.

But he was too slow, because a guard saw her and did just that. Of course they were going to grab her; they needed to keep the princess safe and from the outside looking in, her boyfriend wasn’t doing a very good job of it.

But as soon as she was being pulled away from him, she reached for him. She was terrified beyond belief and she needed him and they were taking her from him.

He followed behind, but then there was a deafening crash that sent him flying, covering him with debris. He hit his head on the ground and it took a moment before he could come to his senses and figure out where he was. Oh, hell, his leg hurt and it felt like it was bent in a really unnatural way.

“Eugene!”

His heart fell at the sound of her voice because that meant she was still here and not somewhere safe. Damn those guards!

“No we have to go help him! Eugene! We have to help - PUT ME DOWN AND LET ME GO HELP HIM!” She was screaming louder than he’d ever heard her, and her voice was getting further away. “Somebody help him! Please somebody go get him! Please! Eugene!”

He couldn’t see her, and he was surprised he could hear her over the destruction around him. He needed to get out of here but he was trapped under rocks and stones and wood. He needed to get to her. He needed to hold her and protect her and-

Another crash, and he ducked his head to shield his face from shards of wood. If he could just survive this; if the fates would give him one more chance he would do whatever they wanted. He’d do anything.

He kept his head down, covering himself up best he could. He knew that he needed to lay low and draw as little attention to himself as possible. He needed to get back to her. There was no other option than that.

Destruction carried on around him; people screaming and suffering and he tried to drown it out with thoughts of her. Thoughts of getting back to her and holding her and kissing her and spending the rest of his life with her. Thoughts of her smile and those big eyes looking up at him and those soft arms around his neck.

Those thoughts kept him calm as things fell apart around him.

#my writing #I dont know If im proud of this or not XD #tw: violence #tw: war #tw: attacks

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theharellan · 6 years

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❅ : Advice to non-role play blogs that want to get started?

i wrote advice literally years ago that i can’t be bothered to find now, so i guess now is as good a time as ever to re-write it.

i’ll put the first bullet above the cut b/c i feel like some stuff is important for everyone to know, and some stuff is just relevant to rp blogs.

brush up on the lingo! the tumblr rp community has developed a language of its own. you’ll learn a lot through context or just asking questions (and if you don’t know what something means, don’t be afraid to ask!). i honestly think this language divide is a reason some ppl have problems with personal blogs reblogging their posts. i’m not sure everyone outside the rpc realises what personal blogs are. here are a couple of important terms:- personal blog: a non-rp blog, it doesn’t matter if you use your blog for posts about your personal life or it’s a fandom blog for graphics, it’s still a personal blog by most ppl’s standards.- muse / mun: i tend to prefer the word “mod” / “writer” to “mun” excepting the munday pun, but mun just means the person who runs the blog. muse is the character (or characters) written on a blog.- mutuals / non-mutuals: if you follow someone and they follow you back, you’re mutuals with them. otherwise, you’re a non-mutual.- private / selective / semi-selective: people who are picky about who they rp with, whether that means mutuals only, or only muses from a certain rp. these terms can be somewhat flexible, i consider myself semi-selective b/c i will rp with non-mutuals, but will turn down rps if i’m overwhelmed with replies or feel we’re incompatible as rpers.- meme: a term used to describe prompts that can take many forms, from symbols like this meme to memes where you have to add some input of your own, like a “five times __’d” meme you’d have to add whatever word you like in the blank.- banter / para / multipara / novella: again, these terms can kinda vary person to person. banter is typically about 100 words, para can be anywhere from 100 words to maybe 200. multipara i put at about 300-400. novella is just… go wild. i’ve written 2000 word replies on occasion.- tw/cw: trigger warning and content warning. these are used by tumblr a lot in general, but given rp (for an adult game series like dragon age especially) will inevitably deal with triggering or sensitive topics, i think it’s important to define.these are just a few examples, and if you’re ever confused, please ask someone. it’s better than not and annoying someone by sending an ask for a meme listed mutuals only.

make sure you get a rules / about / verses page before you start. if you’re established in a community people may rp with you without one, but if you’re new it’s important to establish yourself. here are some things i think are important to have in particular. it’s a little dragon age-rp/bioware-rp specific, but this is a dragon age blog. other things that i didn’t mention b/c it wasn’t necessarily relevant to interacting: have a name/nickname, age, and pronouns on your rules AND your character’s about page. even if it’s just “18+” or “minor” if you’re not comfortable giving your exact age.some people will refuse to write with minors for their own comfort, and having this information will limit miscommunication and misgendering.

lots of people use icons, and they’re a lot of fun to use! but you also don’t have to use them. some people may not rp with you for it, but that’s their loss. i will say it’s becoming more accepted since when i first made solas. it wasn’t so much of a thing when i first started tumblr rp, then it became a thing, then it backed off again. i personally use them when i can b/c i find they add a little extra something, but don’t have icons for every verse.

make sure your page is legible. aesthetic is nice, but people here have vision problems and super tiny font or dark font on dark backgrounds can strain people’s eyes. remember rping is mostly about writing, so if you have a page that doesn’t show off your writing, you’re doing yourself a disservice!

i’d recommend making a separate blog rather than making a sideblog, or if you do make a sideblog, then having a hub blog/main rp blog you follow from. often i don’t look at personal blogs that follow me at all (i have a hard time keep track of new followers in general), so if ppl have a personal they follow from and an rp sideblog i may miss this entirely.

make sure you turn on your asks and anonymous questions if you’re comfortable with them. i forget this sometimes still lmao.

know that it’s ok to make mistakes! i’ve had ppl tell me they’d love to get into darp but don’t know dragon age lore all that well. there’s nothing wrong with that. i have learned so much about the lore since making solas, and there’s still stuff i don’t know! if you feel unsure still, i’d suggest figuring out what your character would/wouldn’t know about and familiarising yourself with that via the dragon age wiki for example if you’re making a dwarven oc (please, i need so many more in my life) who is from orzammar but is now a surface dwarf, i’d recommend reading the pages about orzammar and surface dwarves, and from there you can find related pages. your character will never know everything about the universe, so it’s ok if you don’t, either. i play one of the more knowledgeable characters in the series, and even he doesn’t know everything.

don’t godmod / metagame / forceship etc. this probably could’ve been up with the definitions, but i felt was important enough to warrant its own section.- godmodding is when you force the other writer’s character to do something. like, in a fight, you say one character kicked another character in the face. you’re not the one who decides that, they are, all you can say is your character tried to kick them in the fact. conversely, making your character dodge every move would also be a jerk move. i’d recommend fight scenes be discussed ooc tbh. mild godmodding is sometimes accepted. say our characters are drinking and yours hands mine a drink, most people will accept you writing that my character takes the drink. there would be a line, however. like if you then stated my character loves the drink and has never had anything like it, that’d be godmodding. mild godmodding often helps move threads along, though if you’re unsure about something, feel free to ask! most people will appreciate it.- metagaming is when your character has knowledge they couldn’t or shouldn’t. i have in my rules that you can’t know solas’s true identity w/o asking me first and establishing it ooc before you do so ic. in canon solas is careful with what he reveals about himself, and the only person who really suspects him for any length of time is vivienne.- forceshipping is when you force a relationship onto another character. typically this refers to romantic shipping, but i think it can apply to any relationship. for example, if an inquisitor lavellan were to call my solas “vhenan” it would be forceshipping, as i am singleship. but also, if someone were to project a friendly or even negative relationship onto my a character, it’s also a form of forceshipping imo. remember you can only control how your character feels about someone, and not the other way around. in your head blackwall may be the dad your character has never had, and your character can treat him so, but don’t expect a blackwall rper to fill that role if they don’t want to!

there’s a lot more, but in the interest of doing other things with my day i’ll end it here. if people have questions i’m happy to answer them, either through Tumblr IM or asks.

#( ooc )#( munday meme )#incorruptibleseeker #( asks )#( mod notes )#[ aso if ppl have advice of their own feel free to add in replies? ]#[ or reblogs idc if u reblog this ]

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tumultuoustuna · 7 years

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Hey hi! :) For the writing prompt maybe Shidge 16? .- @quinzak

16: Things you said with no space between us

Shout out to @orcaspanielmermaids for helping me edit this tiny monster; I love you bro!

Also, warning, it’s v long. the keep reading is there so I spare others from having to scroll for so long, I swear

Training is always close quarters, whether it be slashing and dashing away from the training sentinels or taking on a fellow Paladin. Today it was the latter for Pidge.

Shiro was a brutal opponent. Yes, she had defeated him before, but that was when he was under the influence of mind-controlling mushrooms. Now with Shiro as a true opponent, Pidge could only repeat one thing to herself as they brawled.

“Shit.”

The Black Paladin launched forward again, speed unparalleled to any of the other Paladins. Pidge took advantage of her jetpack yet again. Shiro hadn’t managed to catch her yet, but Pidge was counting. She just knew sooner or later he’d grab her.

She aimed her Bayard at the ceiling and pulled herself up. She planted her feet on it and looked down (well up from where she stood).

Waiting her turn to spar Allura was off to the side. She snorted, amused at Shiro’s frustration.

“Training usually consists of actual fighting last time I checked Pidge. You know, actual fighting?” Shiro called. Pidge smirked in return, putting all of her strength into keeping herself from falling.

“Pidge, come on,” he yelled. Pidge shrugged.

“Pidge!”

Pidge’s eyes narrowed. “Game point.”

To say the least, it surprised Shiro when a ninety-five-pound, green torpedo dropped on top of him, crushing him flat.

“I win,” grinned the torpedo.

Allura introduced the Paladins to the very, very overdramatic Altean soap operas one night after Coran had gone off with Slav and Matt to a planetside bazaar.

According to Slav, the planet was too liable to the shenanigans of the Paladins (”In 57% of most realities The Blue and Red ones get into a massive fight that ends with fire and the Castle crashing onto the planet.”). With that information and with it being a fact that Lance and Pidge found ways to be gremlins in short amounts of time, Allura agreed it was a good idea to stay on the ship and land it.

As they watched, Keith was overly confused, Hunk tried making hands-or-tails of the dialogue, Allura sighed dramatically at the idiot characters, and Lance was laughing at the jokes that broke through the language barrier and matched his style of humor to begin with.

With that said, Altean humor is actually just a bunch of memes and k-drama tropes.

It amused Pidge.

A lot.

Shiro too.

And while Matt would’ve been amused as well, he also would have tried to worm out Shiro’s secret meme humor, more to humiliate him then to laugh along with his friend. As it was though, Shiro was holding back making any remarks.

But alas Pidge knew better.

Coran, Slav, and Matt return shortly, gaining Lance’s and Hunk’s attention. Seeing the items they had procured were food based, said Paladins got to cooking. Matt, in favor of cooking, took Hunk’s place on the couch next to Keith.

When the credits started to scroll, Allura tossed a slim remote to Shiro so he could scroll through the channels on the holovision (Pidge’s genus name for the holographic tv) and find something to watch. “You need this,” she had smiled, leaving the room to watch Hunk work.

Shiro’s choice was a technicolor kid show. It starred aliens as the leads, who resembled cows. They were reciting what Pidge could only guess to be some sort of alphabet.

“What the fresh fuck, man?” Keith whispered slowly to Shiro, sounding genuinely concerned for his mental health.

Matt doubled over in fits of laughter. “Yeah! S-Shiro, buddy, what the heck?”

“What? Can a grown man not enjoy a colorful kids’ show with deer as its main characters?”

“Those are cows,” Pidge chimed in. “And you’re only two years older than me buddy, I assure you there’s nothing grown about you maturity-wise.”

“Guilty.”

Pidge made a grab for the remote.

“Pidge no. Let me have this,” Shiro pouted, shoving the shorter Paladin away by the shoulder.

“No, this is for your own good,” Pidge insisted, ducking under his arm and crawling over to snatch the remote.

“Get ‘im!” Matt encouraged.

Pidge squinted ever so slightly and pursed her lips. “Game point,” she muttered before making one last sitch effort to free the remote from Shiro’s grasp.

It all ended with Shiro more or less sitting on Pidge. And as massive as a fail it was, Matt sure got a kick out of it.

“I win,” Shiro smirked.

Pidge, with her head in the cushion, flipped him off

Matt was wheezing on the floor.

“I’m done with all of you,” Keith sighs, and leaves the lounge in favor of starting a food fight with Lance helping cook.

Shiro had issues sleeping some nights. It led to him wandering everywhere, even in the other Lions’ chambers. This led him to also find out what his fellow crew members did if sleep didn’t come.

Coran occasionally stayed up to see Allura to her room and that Allura often cried, away from eyes other then Coran.

Keith, even though he was a sucker for sleep, would be found in the kitchen. He stared wide-eyed at food rotating in the machine equivalent to a microwave when he had something on his mind, weighing him down.

Often he’d find Lance staring at maps on the bridge, looking at Earth. Tears silently rolled down his cheeks. Shiro often wanted to reach out and comfort him. Most of the time he had no idea how.

Hunk fiddled with random pieces of metal, crafting and welding together beautiful sculptures; he said it was because he loved the Balmera’s crystals, wanting to replicate them artistically.

Matt, upon coming back and plagued with nightmares, sought out Shiro some nights to talk.

Slav never slept, Shiro was certain.

The Blade members… He wasn’t sure what they exactly did. Played card games? Strategised?

Pidge was one he often didn’t see around the Castle. He had, more or less, seen everyone at one point doing their own thing at night, but Pidge was the odd one out in this format.

So seeing her in Green’s hanger actually took him by surprise. He blinked, shook his head, did a double take. Yep, it was Pidge.

“So uh, what brings you here? Come here often?” Shiro asked. It sounded too loud.

“I would hope so,” Pidge remarked.

“Uh, yeah.” Shiro scratched the back of his neck. “A better question I guess I should ask is why you’re here now?”

“Green’s cloaking device. It uh, broke.”

“How?”

“Might I remind you of Lotor’s last attack?”

“Oh, right.”

“It’s okay. We were all very… stressed. I don’t expect anybody to remember anything, let alone Green getting hit so precisely her cloaking device was damaged.”

Shiro’s brow raised. “This much apathetic salt leads me to believe you need some sleep, Katie.”

“Probably, Takashi.” Pidge yawned.

Pidge didn’t protest when Shiro scooped her up into his arms and started towards her room. She snuggled into his solid chest, glasses off and in her hands.

“I really wish Zarkon could be changed by just the power of friendship. It would make things so much easier,” Pidge muttered about halfway through the trip.

Shiro laughed softly. “Right? Lotor at least.”

“I mean, he has a bunch of generals. I’d would assume they’re friends.”

“The one named Ezor seems like she is.”

Pidge smiled sleepily. She had fought Ezor once, and she couldn’t stop talking to her the entire time. Sure, it was a serious fight, but what was a better catharsis to war than casual banter with the enemy? Ezor was actually quite fascinating and Pidge hoped they would meet one day on better terms, like the mall, and be able to talk even more casually.

“Yeah, she seems to be.”

Shiro opened the door to her room and set the small Paladin down as gently as he possibly could. He tucked her in, earning a look.

“I’m not five, Shiro.”

“I know, but I’d think anybody likes feeling like a kid again. That and I feel like you’d fall asleep without actually having blankets on yourself and freeze yourself.”

Pidge snorted. “Dude, how tired are you?”

“Very, if I’m gonna be honest.”

This gave the small girl an idea. “Why not stay here tonight?”

“What?”

“You kinda wander aimlessly in the halls and I worry sometimes. Maybe instead of being alone, you could stay here tonight,” Pidge nonchalantly laid out.

The Black Paladin looked over at the door for a moment. What would the others think?

“If you’re thinking what Matt would think, I can assure you he wouldn’t ask. Come on, give yourself more credit. You aren’t a sleazy guy.”

“It’s… okay.”

Shiro discarded his shoes and carefully removed his arm, putting them off to the side.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you without that honestly,” Pidge said in almost awe, staring at the now still appendage.

Shiro blushed. “Well, after I figured out how to turn off a lot of the nerves I took advantage of it. It was really painful to take it off at first. Enough so that I’d just scream.” He paused and sighed. “Your research helped a lot with that.”

“Well I mean, I’m glad I could help.”

“Me too. We’d be screwed without you.”

“Meh, your leadership holds us all together, not my skills.”

“Pidge, you’re the only way we have access to the ships’ computer systems and survive.” Shiro put his hand on her shoulder. “You are the reason anything gets done, ‘nough said.”

It was Pidge’s turn to blush. “I mean, yeah, but what I mean is that I’m not… Eh, how do I put this? Not the most approachable person? I mean, compared to Keith I’m a stellar example of extraversion. But I’m not the ‘team glue’ if you will. That goes to Lance.”

“Yes, but that’s not my point. Pidge, can you not just accept my compliment?”

“No. I must push away all forms of kindness and connection if I want to reach extreme levels of edgy-ness.”

“I am more than positive you got that from Keith.”

“He said it to Lance once; it was quite clever.”

Shiro grunted a ‘yes’ and fell silent. Others might have found it awkward, but the two Paladins stared into each other’s eyes for quite some time before Pidge smirked and said, “So are we going to sleep now?”

Shiro smiled, eyes drooping. “Uh huh,” he replied, mouth closed.

As Shiro drifted off, probably for the first time in a few days, Pidge grinned and wrapped her short arms around him as much as she could. Game point, she thought. As he snuggled closer, Pidge smile turned fonder as she said, “I win.”

“So did I,” muttered a half-conscious Shiro.

Hope you enjoyed!

#shidge #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender #writing #fanfiction #yes it's different but i love it #shiro #pidge #paladins #slav #coran #allura #keith #lance #hunk #matt holt #tuna writes

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lawrenceremodel · 6 years

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Nas Denies Kelis Abuse Allegations While Pleading 'We Should Be Better Examples' for Son Knight

Some five months after his ex wife Kelis accused him of mental and physical abuse in an in-depth interview with Hollywood Unlocked, Nas is telling his side of the story.

On Thursday, the rapper, 44, shared a series of seven plain black Instagram posts with lengthy captions that explain his relationship with the “Milkshake” singer, 39 — especially in relation to the child they share, a boy named Knight Jones, born in July 2009.

“PART 1. The Price I Pay To See My Son,” he began before explaining that “a call from Essence about wife doing another sad fictitious story” prompted him to speak out.

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PART 1. The Price i Pay To See My Son. And apologies in advance for the typos as I am speaking from the heart as a man who has had enough. Today i got a call from essence about my ex wife doing another sad fictitious story. Nothing surprises me anymore, including this. This is what your life has come to sis? Exploiting some people’s Real struggle and pain…just to get at me….to get attention ? Fame? Another fight against men? We are a human family and we should be better examples for our son. Why is there even a issue for me to have time with my son. A son needs his father. So many absentee fathers out here and here i am being attacked by your accusations simply because i got us in court to help fix this the custody matter? Why did i have to take you to court to see our son? Why when i win the joint custody ( which is a win for both of us and our son, it helps us with both our schedules) why do you feel thats an attack on you? Is it control ? Why do you need to have control over my life? because we’re not together? Then why? Is this being rewarded and praised by people who are being taken advantage of by you and your lies? To all separated couples out there who are cordial and co parent nicely GOOD FOR YOU. I wish that was me. I’m the most chill cool parent there is. Who has time to argue ? About what? It’s about our little guy. You haven’t had to deal with what I’ve been dealing with. Trust me. I’m a mild mannered god fearing very fair human being who tries his hardest to please everyone. It’s my nature. I’ve seen this too many times before And there was times i thought Kelis my ex wife was not this type. This is the type of antics that deceive people and people mistakenly call it strong. Seems I always had more belief in you than you do for yourself. I instilled strength in my daughter who you were already so jealous of and treated poorly. Being jealous & verbally abusive to a Little girl.

A post shared by Nasir Jones (@nas) on Sep 6, 2018 at 4:54pm PDT

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View this post on Instagram

PART 2. In life you have to work hard to be successful, not try to tear someone down for that’s the most coward way. Women are the essence of life. I cherish them. My strength is given to me from my mother. I am everything she taught me to be. I was raised in a single home by a single woman. I am a very proud black man. I shouldn’t have ignored the signs from your your first song and video I HATE YOU SO MUCH RIGHT NOW. But I thought you was beautiful. You came into my life at a time i was grieving from my moms passing. You was a friend. Because of that i wanted to marry you. And i did. And we had a big lavish wedding. Overall there was too many good times. I have to say i wasn’t the most faithful husband. I was immature. I’m sorry about that. But you bumped your own head sis. Why do i have to live thru a constant divorce? It didn’t work out. Life goes on. I’m not coming back to you. Your married and im happy for you and I’m a extremely happy black brother out here trying to make a difference for my kids and the next generation of young people who see me as huge inspiration in music, art,business, education and so on. After 10 years of keeping my silence during a decade of dealing with very hostile behavior and verbal abuse and even your stepfather holding you back from one of your physical violent Attacks on me right outside your house THIS YEAR while trying to pick up our son while he watched from the window, it was my weekend and you denied me that because your parents were in town. I just went home. This has been my life for my son’s entire life. Even our son wonders why you treat me the way you do?

A post shared by Nasir Jones (@nas) on Sep 6, 2018 at 4:55pm PDT

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He continues, “Nothing surprises me anymore, including this … We are a human family and we should be better examples for our son. Why is there even a issue for me to have time with my son. A son needs his father.”

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PART 3. There’s some seriously crazy things i won’t i disclose for our son’s sake. Because you keep my son from me ive been going thru lawyers to stop you from this bullshit I’m tired of it. I’m tired of you painting a bad picture of me. I’ve been tired of it but you never seem to get tired. I even had to be in a relationship with you AGAIN after we separated just so i could see my son & I AM JUST TIRED. Back then you asked me why didn’t i stop the divorce from happening. I tried! We are too different. Some things aren’t meant to be. We were meant to be so that we could have our son. Nothing more. You didn’t like that. I prayed for your peace of mind for years because of your uneasy soul. I still do. I guess some things take time. You definitely don’t know me now and probably never knew me. You make up this image of me that’s not true but it’s funny because it’s really you describing yourself. You made up stories about me and claimed i did things that YOU DID. I hate all this, but you were a very jealous wife, and i had to deal with that and that’s the worst feeling. How much heat i had to take from producers, writers, music attorneys and record execs etc who felt your mean spirited wrath and dropped you from labels, from startrack to them all. I stopped talking to jungle & steve stoute because of you & almost lost Anthony because of you.

A post shared by Nasir Jones (@nas) on Sep 6, 2018 at 4:58pm PDT

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PART 4. You used to turn my phone off so my professionals couldn’t reach me and take the battery. You insulted any and everyone whoever was around me. Not a single person in my life loved or could even stand you. Luckily for you our assistants all signed NDA’s or you would have a list of men and women who would happily talk about how verbally abusive and evil you are. Your self saboteur ways has caused you your grief your dealing with. Not me. The altercations you speak of are no more different from what most normal couples go thru, but your exaggerated version is UNJUST. Whenever one is constantly attacked the instinct is to restrain that person or defend yourself to prevent escalation. In hindsight now my advice to young men out there in a situation like that is to RUN at the very first sign of verbal abuse or physical. I herd you said terrible things about me. It makes me feel sad how heartless you can be. You play with strong women’s struggles like they mean nothing. You’re taking advantage of a moment in time where women who are fighting for their lives to get justice and be treated fairly & you just looked at it as an opportunity to get ahead. Like abuse is a game? Like tearing down your son’s father is a game. You have a son! Why are you still competing with me by telling him bad things about me. Guess what sis, he has eyes and ears and smart as ever. i don’t have to say anything. I think he knows what’s really good. You will NOT stop me from fighting for my son. You tell him GOD doesn’t love his dad because his dad doesn’t goto church.

A post shared by Nasir Jones (@nas) on Sep 6, 2018 at 4:59pm PDT

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In the next installment, Nas discussed his view of women and the beginning of his relationship with Kelis, writing, “I was raised in a single home by a single woman. I am a very proud black man. I shouldn’t have ignored the signs from your first song and video I HATE YOU SO MUCH RIGHT NOW. But I thought you was beautiful. You came into my life at a time i was grieving from my moms passing. You was a friend. Because of that i wanted to marry you. And i did.”

View this post on Instagram

PART 5. Didn’t want to bring up money but since that’s the fuel behind all of this Let me say that I gave you the tools to be successful after you was dropped from your label. I paid for your cooking school cordon blue. The expensive yellow stove we had flown in from Europe. I helped pay for the remodeling of your house. Your assistant stole thousands from my cc according to Amex. Out of all people you should be completely understanding of my my grind. But you just can’t win with you. My schedule is CRAZY but you never help me see my son. I’m hardly allowed to talk to him on the phone. Ever. My lawyer told me bring the cops to your house and show my court orders when you don’t let me get him or answer your phone but who besides you wants to show their kids that his parents are that out of control? I’ve been going thru lawyers to stop you from this bullshit for years. I finally got our custody together to work with both our schedule thru court, while leaving court you tell me your gonna get me back for fighting to see my son and 3 weeks later you’re on camera doing an interview about “your truth”. Interesting timing. Do what you want just don’t violate another court order sis because the judge won’t like that at all. The judge already ordered you to pay my legal fees because he was tired of you wasting everyone’s time in court. No lawyer wants to represent you after what you put them thru. That’s why you texted me today asking me for more child support money-and you want to keep it out court. You will NOT stop me from fighting for my son. Remember GOD sees all. And I’m no longer allowing you to take advantage of the fact that I did not want to respond in a manner that could affect my kids , friends or family publicly. THAT ENDS TODAY.

A post shared by Nasir Jones (@nas) on Sep 6, 2018 at 5:06pm PDT

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PART 6. Everything with her is a plot and a scheme. Has no merit. No foundation I didn’t Wana speak up because i have real respect for our women. And definitely my son. I do not beat women. I did not beat up my ex wife. Stop. You got beat up in court. How much money do you want? Do you want me to relinquish my rights to see my son is that what you want? Just tell me. After all the tweets and posts you made thru the years disrespecting me and my family I still have love for you as the mother of my child BUT I am done with this. This game ends now and GOD will be the judger of all this. And although you tell everyone GOD hates me (some Christian you are) I will survive and thrive from this moment because I know who I am & you have not a clue who you are.

A post shared by Nasir Jones (@nas) on Sep 6, 2018 at 5:07pm PDT

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Nas continued, taking shots at Kelis’ character: “You insulted any and everyone whoever was around me. Not a single person in my life loved or could even stand you. Luckily for you our assistants all signed NDA’s or you would have a list of men and women who would happily talk about how verbally abusive and evil you are.”

View this post on Instagram

PART 7. And to all the fans that knew my silence was due to the fact that I don’t openly do this kind of petty shit… I appreciate you riding. And to those that were lead down a wrong path… I get it… very sensitive times and all things must be taken seriously. This is MY TRUTH. And I don’t care what else she has left to say unless it concerns our son. This is the first and last time I’m addressing this. Despite all of this I still hope for the best for her because whats best for her is what’s best for Knight. Love, NASIR BIN OLU DARA JONES

A post shared by Nasir Jones (@nas) on Sep 6, 2018 at 5:10pm PDT

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Then, the “I Can” hitmaker addressed the custody arrangement he and Kelis reached in March and the Hollywood Unlocked interview: “I finally got our custody together to work with both our schedule thru court, while leaving court you tell me your gonna get me back for fighting to see my son and 3 weeks later you’re on camera doing an interview about ‘your truth’. Interesting timing.” He also urged her not to “violate another court order.”

RELATED: Victoria Beckham Slams Divorce Rumors as She Poses with Husband David: ‘We’re Stronger Together’

In part six of seven, Nas explicitly denied the abuse allegations: “I do not beat women. I did not beat up my ex wife. Stop. You got beat up in court. How much money do you want? Do you want me to relinquish my rights to see my son is that what you want? Just tell me.”

And to conclude, the rapper explained that he had stayed silent for so long because he doesn’t “do this kind of petty s—” adding, “This is MY TRUTH. And I don’t care what else she has left to say unless it concerns our son. This is the first and last time I’m addressing this. Despite all of this I still hope for the best for her because whats best for her is what’s best for Knight.”

RELATED: Kelis Lists $1.9 Million L.A. Home and Announces ‘We’re Buying a Farm’

Nas and Kelis divorced in 2010 but did not reach a custody agreement regarding Knight until March of this year. According to TMZ, they have also been battling over the amount of child support Nas should pay. Kelis is also mother to Shepherd Mora, born in November 2015. She is married to Mike Mora.

This past April marks the first time Kelis spoke out about her relationship with Nas, calling it a “really dark” time in her life. “There was a lot of drinking. There was a lot of mental and physical abuse,” she recalled. “I probably would have stayed longer had I not been pregnant because I really did love him and because we were married. We weren’t dating, we were married. Like, this was my person.”

RELATED: Kelis Accuses Ex Nas of ‘Mental and Physical Abuse’ During 5-Year Marriage: ‘It Was Really Dark’

She continued, “I’ve waited nine years to say anything. I have never talked about this man, ever. The amount of airing out that I could do, and I’ve chosen not to … Our kids will find out. They’re finding out now. I’ve never painted myself as a saint. Did he hit me? Mmhm. Did I hit him back? Mmhm.”

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