#fictober18
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Fictober18 Day 21
Fandom: Gravity Falls || CW: - || “Impressive, truly.”
______(~400 words)______
"Impressive, truly." Ford deadpanned.
"You got any other bright ideas?"
Looking at the gloves that Stanley had pushed pens into the 6th spots to fill out, he realized it's actually one of the better aspects of this entire plan... which is dismal to think on for more than a few seconds, so he didn't.
"No. I don't." Ford admitted, straightening Stan's outfit on himself. Reasonably, it makes sense it fits perfectly, but he didn't like that it does as thought it might as well belong on him.
Stan is silent for a beat. "Look," he started, "all you gotta do is tell me it'll end the world and fight with me. We got tons of experience with that last part."
"I never wanted to drag you into this. Fighting Bill. I was supposed to have done this myself." Ford realizes these are the last seconds he can see Stan as himself, but he keeps watch down the hallway instead for Bill's return.
Stan scoffed. "This stopped being just your fight the second he messed with the kids. Hell before then too." There was an awkward space of breath like he had been going to say something else and decided against it.
"It shouldn't have gotten to this point though, where you're forced to-"
"Sixer." He cuts him off, and Ford feels compelled to look at his brother's face. In the face of this situation, he doesn't look an ounce of a man with no other choice and Ford has never felt so distinctly polar to his own brother before. He looks every bit a hero.
"I'm doing this because I'm choosing to do it." Stan told him. "Got it?"
Ford nods. "Thank you."
There's the momentary split of a smile and it reaches his eyes, certain and a hint soft. Ford can't remember the last time Stan had directed that smile at him, but he knows it's been over 40 years.
The resounding cacophony of crashing noises rapidly start getting closer though and they both spin on their heels towards it. There's crumbling dust and bricks that smash onto the floor to split apart. Neither one of them broke their gaze from where Bill would soon be emerging, almost certainly with Dipper and Mabel in hand.
"You worried?" Stan asked quietly
A rough sound escaped Ford's chest. "Yes."
"Don't be." Stan assured him, unwaveringly ready. "We got this."
#stanley pines#stanford pines#gravity falls#weirdmageddon#stangst#fictober#fictober18#my fics#c:ford#c:stan#hero! stan!!!!#idk why this fic felt so overdramatic in wording#but no regrets
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A list of prompts for October. Write something short (or long) and tag it with #fictober18. Let’s see your creativity!
Prompts:
“Can you feel this?”
"People like you have no imagination.”
“How can I trust you?”
“Will that be all?”
“Take what you need.”
“I heard enough, this ends now.”
“No worries, we still have time.”
“I know you do.”
“You shouldn’t have come here.”
“You think this troubles me?”
“But I will never forget!”
“Who could do this?”
“Try harder, next time.”
“Some people call this wisdom.”
“I thought you had forgotten.”
“This is gonna be so much fun!”
“I’ll tell you but you’re not gonna like it.”
“You should have seen it.”
“Oh please, like this is the worst I have done.”
“I hope you have a speech prepared.”
“Impressive, truly.”
“I know how you love to play games.”
“This is not new, it only feels like it.”
“You knows this, you know this to be true.”
“Go forward, do not stray.”
“But if you cannot see it, is it really there?”
“Remember, you have to remember.”
“I felt it. You know what I mean.”
“At least it can’t get any worse.”
“Do we really have to do this again?”
“I’ve waited so long for this.”
Go forth and write!
Follow @fictober18 for all the posts!
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Fictober Day 6: “Yes I’m aware. Your point?”
@fictober-event // Set in a Multi-fandom Fantasy AU where most if not all kinds of fantasy creatures exist alongside humans, though the two cultures stay fairly separate, with many humans being afraid or prejudice against creatures.
Rating: T
Fandom: Dragon Age,
Characters: Nelaros (Dragon Age), Elita Tabris (OFC)
Ships: Elita Tabris/Nelaros (one-sided)
Additional Tags: Modified Origin Story, Prepping for a rescue mission, If you played DAO you know how this is gonna go.
“Elita, you can’t be serious.”
Elita finished tightening her belt, making sure her sword rested rightly on her hip. “I’ve never been more serious in my whole life.”
Nelaros shook his head. “You know going into that castle will mean your death, right?”
“Yes, I’m aware of that fact.” She raised a brow at her husband. “Your point?”
“My point is I don’t want to lose you.” He took her hand in his, drawing her closer even as she tried to pull away. “I love you, Elita.”
She closed her eyes and the same lie came forth. “I love you too, Nelaros. But I have to do this.” She pulled away fully and started binding her blonde curls back.
Just that morning, she had done the same thing, but for a much happier reason. Her little sister, Lunari, and her cousin Shianni were finally getting married, Nari to a woodland elf she had met on Pilgrimage and convinced to come to the city with her, and Shianni to a handsome elf from Kirkwall, on the coast. Then during the ceremony, the Arl’s son interrupted and kidnapped the bridal party, might have even gone for Elita except Nelaros had kept her out of the bastard’s view. They were being held in the keep, and Elita had been a servant there for two years. She knew the back halls and servants passages. And so she would lead the rescue party, whether it meant her death or not.
She took a deep breath as she looked in the mirror one last time. “You remember our wedding, how Vaughn would have taken me if not for the griffon heading him off at the gates. Well the griffon is not here, and Vaughn’s claimed Shianni and Nari in my place. I am not letting him hurt them.” She turned to Nelaros. “So you can either pick up a sword and join me in rescuing them, or get out of my way and try to make peace with the fact you are a craven.”
Nelaros watched her for a moment more, then sighed and went to the chest where they held their weapons. “I will come, to save them and defend you.” His green eyes met her blue. “I would rather die than let anything happen to you.”
Elita allowed herself a small smile. “Then let’s go. Soren should be waiting for us.”
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Fictober Day 28: I Felt it. You Know What I Mean
Chat Noir approaches Marinette with an odd request.
Enjoy!
Read on Ao3
“I felt it.” Chat Noir gave her a playful grin as he handed her a bolt of felt. “You know what I mean?”
Glaring at him, Marinette snatched the fabric from his hand. These nightly visits weren’t exactly anything new - he’d checked on her after an akuma had targeted her specifically, and it sort of built off of that. She didn’t mind really, but it made her curious. Was this something he did with a lot of civilians? Or did she catch his eye somehow?
It was weird, but he seldom came over more than once a week, if that. But everyday for the last few days he’d stopped in like clockwork. It was normally nice to see him while she wasn’t wearing the mask. Seeing him like this… it wasn’t quite that he was unguarded, just that he presented a different face to Marinette than he did Ladybug. One that wasn’t quite as focused on being suave and flirty. More playful, inquisitive. Which reminded her...
“Tell me again why you want these?” She knew the answer, but at least if he was talking then he wasn’t poking around her things or messing with her supplies. It was difficult enough cobbling together this gift, she couldn’t be his minder while she did so.
Playfully smirking, he replied, “Well, when I saw your plushies, I knew I just had to have them!”
“Yeah, but it’s not like I’m the only source of Ladybug and Chat Noir merch. I’m sure you have a Ladybug doll stashed away somewhere in your cat condo.”
“It’s an action figure-” He winced and put on a nonchalant expression. “I mean, no I don’t have any such thing. But!” He continued, over her attempted interruption, “even if I did, this is different. I don’t have a Marinette exclusive first edition plushie. Clearly, I need to get ahead of the growing demand.”
She rolled her eyes, but was touched by his faith in her abilities. “Do you really think people would buy them?”
He tilted his head in confusion. “Well, yes, clearly. I’m buying them, and last I checked I am a people.”
“Woah woah, what? This is a gift, Chat. I’m not taking your money.”
“Then consider it an exchange of gifts where I was super cheap and only got you a gift card. Except instead of a gift card, it’s just money.” He pulled out a pair of twenty euro bills from his pocket. Her immediate reaction was blind anger at him having pockets when her suit didn’t. Surprise soon engulfed the anger.
“Chat, no. I’m not accepting your money.” He pouted at her and she sighed. “Think of it as a thank you for being my first customer, okay?”
“First customer, hm? So you’re planning on making more of these then?”
She stopped working for a moment to wring her hands nervously. “...Do you really think they’d sell? I mean, I probably won’t charge what you were offering to pay for them, but…”
“They’re good, Mari! Don’t sell yourself short.” At the look she gave him, he added, “I might have gone overboard, but it was only by a little bit. Seriously, if you make more of these, I’m certain they’ll sell.” He rested his head on his arms as he sat on the chaise. “Think about it.”
Pleased with his encouragement, she put the remaining last touches on the pair of plushies. “I think I will. Here, your first editions are done.”
Taking the dolls gingerly, he smiled as he looked them over. “They’re perfect. Thank you!” He moved to leave.
“Wait, Chat!” He turned around and she hurriedly gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for believing in me. I’ll let you know how it goes. See you soon?”
Eyes wide and cheeks blushing, he replied, “Y-yeah. See you to-tomorrow.”
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🎃Fictober Challenge DONE🎃
Below are ALLLLL my Black Panther fics that I did for Fictober. Everyday, no skips, in order, never late, OH MY GOD. This was an experience that I will look back on fondly, but right now, I’m going to sleep this off. Thanks to everyone that read, plan to read, messaged, liked and reblogged!
Let me know if any truly interest you enough that I should continue; it’s not outside the realm of possibility!
“Can you feel this?” (T’Challa)
“People like you have no imagination.” (M’Baku)
“How can I trust you?” (Shuri)
“Will that be all?” (Erik Killmonger)
“Take what you need.” (Erik Killmonger)
“I heard enough, this ends now.” (M’Baku)
“No worries, we still have time.” (T’Challa x Erik Killmonger)
“I know you do.” (T’Challa)
“You shouldn’t have come here.” (Okoye x W’Kabi)
“You think this troubles me?” (T’Challa)
“But I will never forget!” (M’Baku)
“Who could do this?” (Kid!T’Challa x Kid!Nakia)
“Try harder, next time.” (M’Baku)
“Some people call this wisdom.” (Erik Killmonger)
“I thought you had forgotten.” (T’Challa x Nakia)
“This is gonna be so much fun!” (T’Challa x Steve Rogers x Thor)
“I’ll tell you but you’re not gonna like it.” (T’Challa x Nakia)
“You should have seen it.” (Erik Killmonger)
“Oh please, like this is the worst I have done.” (M’Baku)
“I hope you have a speech prepared.” (T’Challa x Shuri)
“Impressive, truly.” (N’Jobu x N’Jadaka)
“I know how you love to play games.” (M’Baku)
“This is not new, it only feels like it.” (Okoye x M’Baku x Queen Ramonda)
“You knows this, you know this to be true.” (M’Baku)
“Go forward, do not stray.” (Ghost!Okoye x W’Kabi)
“But if you cannot see it, is it really there?” (Ghost!Erik Killmonger)
“Remember, you have to remember.” (Panther!T’Challa)
“I felt it. You know what I mean.” (Undead!Erik Killmonger)
“At least it can’t get any worse.” (VoodooKing!T’Challa)
“Do we really have to do this again?” (Witch!Shuri)
“I’ve waited so long for this.” (Abominable?M’Baku)
#fictober18#finally#shakafic#fanfic#shakafic masterlist#masterlist#black panther fanfic#black panther fanfiction#black panther#marvel fic#marvel fanfic#october
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Fictober 2018 | Day 19
Kink!Fic | Vampires, Thrall -- Gavin900
Heavily inspired by @mercurial-tenacity ‘s amazing grindelgraves fictober update, ugh it was so good it had me some kinda way.
“Why am I here again?” Gavin groused as he slid up to the bar next to Hank, scowl firm on his face. “S’my night off.”
“You were just gonna lurk around some shit hole like this anyway,” Hank said, sliding a beer to Gavin despite the toxicity of their words.
Gavin snorted, popped the top off his beer on the edge of the counter and said, “You don’t know my life, shithead.”
Hank rolled his eyes and jerked his chin over his shoulder to a dark seating area on the far wall, away from the dance floor, and with a blink Gavin realized that Connor was over there.
“What the fuck is he wearing?” Gavin asked, truly too baffled by the robot’s overly large coat, beanie and general dock-worker grunge look to manage to keep up his clever quips.
“Thinks that makes him undercover. Don’t worry about it,” Hank shot back, “Kid’s got a lead on that serial killer we been tracking. A hunch, I guess. He thinks it’s more than one person. A cult maybe. And he thinks one of the people comes here. But the guy knows Connor’s face and I definitely don’t fit in. We need someone who doesn’t look like a cop.”
“Asshole,” Gavin muttered, “That’s real cute way to say ‘we need your help, Gavin’. You think you really got something on that vampire-wanna-be killer?”
It was tempting. The case was a hot one. There had been a lot of victims and no progress. There was a hefty bonus for whoever cracked it.
Hank sighed, fed up, and barked, “We need your help, Gavin. You willing to meet this guy or not?”
Gavin kicked at his bottle cap and watched it go skittering across the ground before sucking at his lip and sneering, “Fuck, fine, whatever. Who am I looking out for and what do ya need to know?”
Hank grinned.
“First thing’s first,” he said, reaching down to the duffel beside his chair and pushing it harshly into Gavin’s chest, “Kid says you’ll need to get changed. Guy likes a certain look, if you feel me.”
Gavin opened the duffel and turned red.
“Oh hell no!”
“You want that bonus or what, kid?”
“Fuck you, Hank!”
Twenty minutes later Gavin was teetering around the edge of the active bar, tugging uncomfortably at the mesh shirt Hank had somehow convinced him was “for the good of the case”. The leather pants pinched. The only saving grace, if you could even call it that, was the sleeveless hoodie he had drawn over his head, more a crop top than any proper covering for his torso, but the hood gave him a little comfort. More than he had without it. At least his nipples weren’t exposed anymore.
But he needed to look like the victims. Like bait. Mission a-fucking-ccomplished.
“This is ridiculous,” Gavin snarled beneath his breath so only the communications device he had hidden near his ear would catch it. From the shadows of the corner, away from all the action, he knew Hank was laughing.
“You look cute, kid.”
“Fuck off, grandpa!”
“You really wanna get into age?”
Gavin grumbled but dropped it. He sipped from his beer, nearly empty, and scanned for the man Connor had described. An android. A brawny, tall man with russet hair and programmed to 'invite’ certain people for a ‘good time’ with the killer, if Connor’s hunch was right. And evidently Gavin was on the menu.
Based off the description the guy shouldn’t have been hard to find, and yet the more Gavin looked, the harder it seemed to parse people out of the crowd. The bar was getting lively quick, the music almost so thick he couldn’t quite hear Hank – and he definitely couldn’t see him anymore.
Focused as he was, he nearly leapt out of his skin when a hand touched his nearly naked lower back and asked into his ear, “Can I buy you a drink?”
“Jesus, man, give a guy a heart attack,” Gavin growled, pulling away. He turned to look and blinked, dumbstruck by the sight of Connor’s face, only different. His eyes were blue like the ice of a glacier, and he was taller. Broader, even. His LED was missing. And his skin... Androids looked nearly indistinguishable from humans, but Gavin knew the difference between synthetic and human skin. This guy looked... real.
“Apologies. You were just so eye-catching, I couldn’t help myself.”
Gavin grunted and looked the man up and down. He was clad in a tight black v-neck, a sleek biker coat and biker gloves, and Gavin wondered if he actually rode or if he was just one of those pricks that liked to look the part.
“Yeah, well, paws off. I’m waiting for someone.”
“That’s too bad,” he said, stepping into Gavin’s space.
He opened his mouth to snap that the guy better check himself and step off, but then he caught sight of those eyes again and couldn’t seem to look away. They were churning somehow, distracting. Something was wrong.
“Wha—” His tongue thick and for a moment he wondered if he had been roofied before the thought was plucked from his head as though it had never been. He whimpered, confused, only aware that he had been thinking of something important but couldn’t remember what anymore.
“Good,” the man purred. “Let’s dance.”
He was dragged out onto the floor before he could even wrap his head around it, caught in the middle of a mob of dancing people as hands – maybe the stranger’s, maybe others’ – traced the sharpness of his hip bones that poked out from between his too tight pants and the meager cover of his mesh top. Dipping into his crop top, tweaking his nipples, lowering his hood to nibble on his neck. The music was thought-melting, driving all reason from his mind, and his limbs felt as though they were on autopilot as he swayed with the music and followed the direction those hands.
“I think I’m going to keep you,” a voice said into his throat, skin pinched by sharp canines but nothing broke.
“D-dun even know your n-name,” Gavin mumbled, tongue thick in his mouth and brows furrowed as an alarm bell rang in his head but he couldn’t figure out why.
“Hmm… I prefer not to share my given name,” the man said, pulling back to lock those strange eyes on him again, pleased with what he saw – a man, a cop, debauched, blushing and so malleable in his clutches. “But you can call me Nines.”
Nines.
Case files flooded his mind. Pictures of victims, locations, witness stories. All they had was a calling card – a solitary card from a beautifully designed solitaire set: the nine of hearts.
His heart began to thunder, but even that slowly stilled beneath the man’s gaze as he held him close and forced them both to continue dancing as though nothing was the matter.
“But y’can’t be an a-android,” Gavin muttered mostly to himself, baffled by the face he shared with Connor. Had Connor set him up? No... No... His thoughts got fuzzy again and he whined when Nines nipped him with a little chuckle and a soft, “Poor confused little cop.”
He pulled back and grinned, and his teeth were sharper than they should have been.
“Where do you think they got the design from? Fitting, don’t you think? To design the ageless after the immortal.”
Oh God, Gavin breathed, cursing as his body melted into those hands and that mouth returned to his throat, the nipping just as innocently as before and yet if felt so different now. More dangerous. He tried to reach for his headset to find it gone. He couldn’t see Hank, he couldn’t—
“Ssh, I’ve got you.”
All thought melted away as Nines’ tongue slipped into his mouth, tasting both sweet and yet strangely coppery. Nines kissed him like he was hellbent on sucking the very air from Gavin’s lungs, and he only parted when the man looked fully gone, eyes blank and lust-filled as he melted into his touch and awaited directions -- throat swollen, blood just at the surface, waiting to be pierced. Nines’ brushed that spot with a thumb and chuckled, “Yes. I think I’ll keep you, little cop. You’re just too much fun.”
Hank and Connor shoved their way through the crowd, but they couldn’t find him.
Gavin was gone.
#fictober 2018#fictober18#Kinktober#vampire au#vampires#vampire!RK900#connor rk900#rk900#rk900 connor#gavin x rk900#gavin900#reed900#nines#gavin reed#dbh gavin#detroit: become human#detroit become human#dbh
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For all the new people following the blog, here are the prompts again for 2018.
Tag your posts with #fictober18. Please state if your entry is original fiction or fanfiction and what fandom at the top. State common warnings and triggers at the top and tag accordingly. I reserve the right to not reblog fics that I find inappropriate.
Prompts:
“Can you feel this?”
“People like you have no imagination.”
“How can I trust you?”
“Will that be all?”
“Take what you need.”
“I heard enough, this ends now.”
“No worries, we still have time.”
“I know you do.”
“You shouldn’t have come here.”
“You think this troubles me?”
“But I will never forget!”
“Who could do this?”
“Try harder, next time.”
“Some people call this wisdom.”
“I thought you had forgotten.”
“This is gonna be so much fun!”
“I’ll tell you but you’re not gonna like it.”
“You should have seen it.”
“Oh please, like this is the worst I have done.”
“I hope you have a speech prepared.”
“Impressive, truly.”
“I know how you love to play games.”
“This is not new, it only feels like it.”
“You knows this, you know this to be true.”
“Go forward, do not stray.”
“But if you cannot see it, is it really there?”
“Remember, you have to remember.”
“I felt it. You know what I mean.”
“At least it can’t get any worse.”
“Do we really have to do this again?”
“I’ve waited so long for this.”
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Fictober Day 2 • Tranquil
It’s Day 3 now and I still haven’t done day 1. WHATEVER. I felt compelled to get this one done, and it’s dedicated to @xiz0r and @dreadwolfiscoming. This is what can happen if you make art that gives me FEELS.
“Hawke.”
His own name is the first thing he hears after the sundering. He had been left alone in the darkness, but now there is light and familiar faces. There are tears then. Shouts. A wail. Hawke hears it, but feels nothing. It’s too late. He was taken and broken.
It’s Fenris who leads their final charge through the Gallows that day. Hawke follows because there is no better way. None of the people he once called friends can bear to look at him. Hawke knows he makes them uncomfortable now. He knows, but does not care.
When it is over, they flee the Gallows. There, on the docks, there is a hurried talk of what they should do with Hawke now. It isn’t safe for any of them, especially not the Champion, broken as he is. When one suggests putting him to the knife, chaos erupts. Hawke watches and doesn’t flinch. He knows he once told them he’d rather die than become Tranquil. But now he does not feel that conviction.
Before the argument even ends, Fenris takes him by the hand and pulls him away.
“Where are you taking him?” Varric demands. His voice had been the loudest in speaking out against Hawke’s killing.
“Does it matter?” Fenris hisses. He had remained silent while the others fought. Now, his gauntlet is sticky with Templar blood and the tips dig into Hawke’s hand. “Do not follow us.”
- - - - -
Fenris takes him away from the docks then, back to Hightown and Hawke’s empty estate. Fenris packs quickly and snaps at Hawke to change his clothes. Hawke obeys. They soon leave the estate and are out of Kirkwall by nightfall.
They camp along the coast, and in the distance smoke rises from the City of Chains.
Hawke wakes that night to a pressure in his chest. The tent they’re sharing is lit by the cold blue glow of Fenris’s brands. The elf is straddling him and his hand is thrust into Hawke’s chest.
“You told me once to kill you if you were made Tranquil,” Fenris says. There are tears streaming down his cheeks. His eyes reflect the eerie light of his brands. “You made me promise.”
Hawke feels the pain as his heart is held in Fenris’s hand. It is abstract to him, merely his body’s way of telling him he is about to die. He would prefer not to be experiencing it. Fenris squeezes a little tighter and Hawke lets out a choked gasp.
“Say something,” Fenris demands. His voice is shaking.
“I do not wish to die,” Hawke replies.
Fenris wavers. He releases his hold on Hawke and pulls his hand out with a guttural cry. He breaks then. His body is wracked with sobs as he clings to Hawke, buries his face against the other man’s neck. Hawke lays there quietly. Breathes.
Fenris is silent the next morning. He does not look at Hawke as they both pick up the camp. “We’re going north,” Fenris eventually says as they set off together along the coast. Hawke does not care. He will follow wherever Fenris leads.
There is no love left there. No affection. But Hawke knows Fenris. He knows him and trusts him. There is a certainty that Fenris will keep Hawke safe. After all, it is easier to follow him than it is to be on his own.
- - - - -
Time passes and they make their way farther north into the Free Marches. Fenris has come around to looking at Hawke now. He speaks to Hawke cordially, and Hawke always speaks back. There are still nights when Hawke wakes up to that phantom hand around his heart. Hawke accepts this, and Fenris never follows through.
There is one night when Hawke wakes to the feeling of lips against his skin. Wetness. Tears and spit as Fenris desperately kisses him. After a moment, Fenris pulls away and apologizes. He puts distance between them again.
Hawke would allow more if Fenris wished it. Hawke would not mind or care. It would comfort Fenris, and not be unpleasant for himself. Once, Hawke would have been eager for it. Now, it would just be a function.
There are no more kisses after that.
- - - - -
They are being attacked by bandits when Hawke shows that he is capable of defending himself. While Fenris is engaged, Hawke takes a quarterstaff from a fallen bandit and uses it to dispatch another. From then on, Fenris trains him. Hawke no longer has magic, but he has his strength and reflexes.
More time passes and they are in Antiva. Hawke wears a hood to hide his brand while Fenris wears leather armor to hide his own. They’ve taken to raiding any slavers they come across. Hawke is proficient in combat now. He is focused. Efficient. Soon Fenris has them actively pursuing the slavers. Perhaps it would be safer for Hawke to settle in one place and quietly exist.
Hawke follows Fenris. It is what he knows.
- - - - -
They are in Rivain when the sky is torn open somewhere in Ferelden. Fenris ignores the news from the south; it doesn’t concern them.
Months later, they are back in Antiva when a letter somehow reaches them.
“How did he find us?” Fenris grumbles. Hawke doesn’t ask who. As Fenris reads the letter, his eyes widen in shock. Hawke watches him.
Hawke does not ask why they leave on a ship the following day.
- - - - -
Weeks later, they cross a bridge that leads into a castle called Skyhold. There, they find Varric Tethras, who still can’t quite look at Hawke.
“Is it true?” Fenris demands in lieu of a greeting. “There is a cure?”
“It’s true,” Varric nods. He finally looks at Hawke.
They wait while the preparation for the ritual is completed. The Inquisitor is a proficient spirit healer, but it takes time to find a spirit willing to help them. Fenris voiced his displeasure regarding the ritual’s methods, but grudgingly agreed. Hawke does not care either way.
- - - - -
Fenris and Hawke meet another Tranquil in the library while they are exploring. Fenris asks her why she has not gone through the ritual herself. She says that she declined the offer. She does not wish for the pain she will experience after its completion. She thinks that her life will overwhelm her. Fenris looks to Hawke, who is silently processing the answer.
The night before the ritual, Fenris pulls Hawke aside. “Do you want this?” he asks. He will not force this on Hawke, not if Hawke says no.
Hawke thinks about his past self. He understands how he used to think and feel. It’s abstract. Distorted. Like looking at something through a thick pane of glass, but being unable to touch it or fully see what it is. He knows that his past self would have said yes! without a second thought. He would have been willing to live with any consequences.
But is that how Hawke is now? What will the world be like when he can fully experience it again? Hawke does not deal in uncertainty now. And everything might hurt too much. But…
“I do not mind it,” Hawke finally answers. “I will manage afterward.”
That is enough for Fenris.
- - - - -
The next morning, they take Hawke to a dimly lit room. He sits in a chair next to a table that holds a stone bowl of lyrium. The rest of the room is sparse. Varric, Fenris, and the Seeker, Cassandra, are the only witnesses. The Inquisitor stands behind Hawke and magic begins to pour from his hands.
He reaches in and gently touches Hawke’s head. Hawke can feel the magic buzzing around him. He can...feel.
Something else is touching him now. Filling him. And for the first time in years, Hawke can feel the magic moving over his skin. He inhales and it’s like he’s taking his first breath.
The Inquisitor pulls away from Hawke now; it has taken him a mere number of minutes to unravel the past five years of Hawke’s life.
Everything rushes over Hawke. Flashes of life before his sundering. Flashes of life since. Everything blurs together, swirling and pulsing and threatening to overwhelm him. Every laugh. Every tear. Every kiss. Tears fall from his eyes and he begins to shake. He sags forward in the chair.
Strong arms suddenly embrace him and a familiar warmth settles between his legs. Fenris is kneeling on the floor in front of him, holding him up. Holding him close. Hawke clings to Fenris and lets out his first shuddering sob.
“Hawke,” Fenris croaks.
His name is the first things he hears after he is whole again.
#Dragon Age fanfiction#FenHawke#M!FenHawke#Hawris#Fenris#M!Hawke#Tranquility#Tranquil Hawke#em writes#Fictober18#ANGST#i'm sorry#i fight feels with feels
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Fictober day 14: Some people call this wisdom
Star Wars: The Clone wars, Obi-Wan, Cody, Dooku, Ahsoka, Ventress, 750 words
Set in the same universe as this, in which Obi-Wan switches his political alliances for flimsy plot reasons, and Cody and Ahsoka do the same for far more understandable ones.
"Some people," Obi-wan says primly, "would call this wisdom."
"No, they wouldn't," says Cody. "Literally no one would call this wisdom. No one is that stupid."
"I take offence to that."
"Good." Cody finishes rewrapping the bandage around Obi-Wan's upper arm with a hard tug, and Obi-Wan winces.
"I chose the most expedient exit strategy," he says, definitely not petulant. "It was very logical. Tactically sound."
"Please stop," Ahsoka says. "I think Cody's head is going to explode."
"I'm fine," says Cody. "This is fine. Nobody has ever said the Jedi aren't tactical geniuses--"
"Yes! Wonderful," Dooku cuts in, spinning away from the holoscreen. "Do tell me this was a common concern."
"Amongst the clone officers," Cody says. "The Jedi and the enlisted men see absolutely nothing wrong with the Jedi, having had absolutely no military experience or tactical training, coming up with all the plans."
"I studied tactics," Obi-Wan says. "And I always listened to you and the other men."
"We were *created* for war," Cody says. "If it helps, most of your plans weren't terrible because of your lack of strategic knowledge, they were just terrible because you're you."
Ahsoka makes a horrible gurgling noise as she tries not to laugh. Obi-Wan presses his lips together. "It doesn't help, thank you," he says.
"It was part of Sidious' plan," Dooku says. "It's just disappointing that the Jedi played so neatly into expectations. Though not surprising. Running around the galaxy embarrassing themselves in fits of overblown ego is standard practice, I suppose."
Obi-Wan stares, mouth hanging open. "You are wearing a cape," he says, finally. Ahsoka gives up on stifling her laughter and just lets her head drop into her arms on the table, shoulders shaking silently. Ventress fills a heavy crystal glass to the brim with whisky and slides it across to Obi-Wan.
"That's fine," says Cody. "You certainly don't need painkillers for these vaguely horrific blaster burns."
"This is a painkiller," Obi-Wan says, darkly.
"Roger Roger," Ahsoka says, and collapses back into laughter.
"We didn't design the droids," Ventress grumbles. "Contractors were limited."
"The Hero Without Fear," Dooku says. "Do you really want to play this game, Obi-Wan?"
"Low blow," Obi-Wan says, evenly.
"...Fair," Cody says, at the same time.
Ahsoka groans. "I hate that you're right," she says. "I hate that I'm laughing. I hate that I don't miss him as much as I think I should."
"I do," Obi-Wan offers, cheerfully, and throws back half the glass of whisky in one gulp.
"Here we fucking go," Ventress says, and slumps down in a chair with the bottle.
Dooku frowns disapprovingly at her. She lasts a good forty-five seconds, which is frankly better than Obi-Wan has yet managed. Finally she straightens up, grumbling. "Yes, ok, I'm using a glass, I'm being a civilized person, I'm respecting the expensive alcohol, nobody here has any self-medication problems and the words class enemy mean nothing, stop trying to violently murder me with your disappointed face."
"Technically he's leading the revolution," Obi-Wan says, helpfully. He can't feel his lips and he can feel his arm far too much.
"Stop," Cody says. "Blood loss makes you terrible."
"It's the adrenalin crash," Obi-Wan says. "You're just as bad, you've just had a lifetime of indoctrination teaching you to value obedience and respect above all other things (including life), so you know how to hold yourself back."
Cody ducks his head, and he finishes smoothing down the tape on the final bandage with a gentle caress, thumb rubbing against Obi-Wan's wrist.
"Just say it," Dooku says. "We are all thinking it and it's by no means incorrect."
"There's still a massive ethical gap between the Jedi and the Vode," Ahsoka says. "It's not comparable." She finally sits up, rubbing at her eyes with her palms. "But yeah, I was totally thinking it."
"How many iterations of this conversation do we need to have?" Obi-Wan asks, slumping, letting his head tip back to rest uncomfortably against the hard chairback.
"Come on, darling," Ventress says. "If we didn't deconstruct everybody's personal traumas and worldviews every tenday what would we talk about?"
"You're right, my dear, how shortsighted of me. It certainly wouldn't do to deviate from the status quo, we might suddenly remember we should probably all hate each other."
"or the opposite," Dooku offers. "Which would be far worse."
Obi-Wan glances up at his Grandmaster, feels the familiar press of his Force presence settled, casually possessive against his own. "Yes," he says. "You're right. That would be worse."
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Fictober 2018 Masterlist
Day 1 - Chris LaSalle
Day 2 - Leroy Jethro Gibbs
Day 3 - Marty Deeks
Day 4 - The Good Place
Day 5 - Sebastian Lund
Day 6 - Dwayne Pride
Day 7 - G Callen
Day 8 - Jane Rizzoli
Day 9 - Tony DiNozzo
Day 10 - Richard Castle
Day 11 - Chris LaSalle
Day 12 - Marty Deeks
Day 13 - Brooklyn Nine Nine
Day 14 - NCIS NOLA
Day 15 - Harry Potter
Day 16 - Chidi and Eleanor
Day 17 - Tammy Gregorio
Day 18 - Kate Beckett
Day 19 - The Good Place
Day 20 - Leroy Jethro Gibbs
Day 21 - G Callen
Day 22 - Eric Beale
Day 23 - Chidi and Eleanor
Day 24 - Chris LaSalle
Day 25 - Tammy Gregorio
Day 26 - Sam Hanna
Day 27 - Chidi and Eleanor
Day 28 - Chris LaSalle, Dwayne Pride x reader
Day 29 - Jake Peralta
Day 30 - Alexis Castle
Day 31 - Chris LaSalle
#fictober18#fictober18 masterlist#ncis#NCIS New Orleans#ncis x reader#ncis nola x reader#ncis imagine#ncis nola imagine#castle#castle imagine#castle x reader#brooklyn 99#brooklyn 99 imagine#brooklyn 99 x reader#the good place#the good place imagine#the good place x reader#NCIS Los Angeles#ncis la imagine#ncis la x reader#Harry Potter#harry potter imagine#harry potter x reader#Rizzoli and Isles#rizzoli and isles imagine#rizzoli and isles x reader#Jane Rizzoli#jane rizzoli imagine#jane rizzoli x reader#Tony DiNozzo
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Imagine a Date With Yakuza!Hanzo Going Terribly Wrong, but He’s Still Trying to Make the Best Out of it (Fictober):
A/N: Alternative title: “Imagine Burying a Dead Body With Yakuza!Hanzo”
“You do still look incredibly attractive in that outfit, you know.”
You glanced over your formerly expensively nice, now grime-covered attire before looking up at Hanzo with a glare. “Really? Right now?”
“Just trying to keep the romance alive,” the equally nicely dressed but now dirtied man responded, raising his hands in defense.
You rolled your eyes before getting back to work; unfortunately, Hanzo wasn’t the one standing in a freshly opened grave. You grabbed your shovel again and used it to pry open the old, weathered coffin you’d both just finished digging up. After doing so, you assessed the container’s contents--some poor sap who’d withered away to bone a long time ago--and what space was left. After gauging at the spot was appropriate, you gave a curt nod and scrambled out of the deep hole.
“Alright, let’s get the body chunks and bury this guy,” you said, as if that were the most normal of phrases, “You owe me dinner.”
Hanzo flashed you a smirk as he picked up the first of several degradable bags laying nearby, tossing it into the open coffin. “I do love it when you take charge.”
“Would you like to join the grave party? Because I can make that happen, then treat myself to dinner, and a shopping spree.”
#overwatch#overwatch-imagines-hub#overwatch x reader#overwatch headcanons#overwatch imagines#hanzo shimada#overwatch hanzo#hanzo x reader#hanzo shimada x reader#hanzo shimada imagines#hanzo shimada headcanons#yakuza!hanzo#yakuza!hanzo shimada#fictober#fictober 2018#fictober 2017#fictober2017#fictober2018#fictober18#fictober17#yakuza!hanzo x reader#yakuza!hanzo imagines#yakuza!hanzo headcanons
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Fictober18 Day 19
Fandom: Gravity Falls || CW: - || “Oh please, like this is the worst I have done.”
______(~600 words)______
As soon as the door shut, Ford hopped off of the examination table and picked up the chair. “Here!” He said, half throwing it into the man’s hands in his hurry, his own hands shaking.
Stan jammed the chair underneath the door handle.
Ford opened the medical folder left behind labelled ‘F. McGucket’, flipping quickly through the information with fingers that kept slipping on the papers. The address was quick enough to find, but he kept looking for anything else that could help. He had to find out what Fiddleford McGucket meant, what he was in this story.
“Look, calm down,” Stan said, pulling the folder over the counter and flipping through it himself. “Doctors aren’t going to bust through the door with a gun, Ford.”
“I’m calm.” Ford said, skimming the pages as Stan flipped through them.
“You’ve been shaking ever since you started getting examined on the table.” Stan pointed out, much to Ford’s own chagrin.
“I am calm.” He insisted, truthfully. “A little nervous, sure, but I’m not feeling this.” He said, letting the shaking hands hover over the table for a moment. “I don’t know why my body started doing this.”
Stan didn’t say anything to that, and they skimmed through the file quickly and in silence to the end of the files with the most recent visits that stopped a few months back with a broken arm.
“Alright,” Stan said, pushing the folder closed, “so what’s next? Breaking into this guy’s house?”
Ford laughed, lightly, pulling the folder back and opening it to the first page again to stare at the information page. “If he’s not there, I don’t know.”
Stan snorted in surprise. “Wow impersonation and planned breaking and entering.” He teased.
Ford smiled, still looking at the stranger’s information typed neatly across the page. “Oh please, like this is the worst I have done.”
Blonde hair.
Blue eyes.
VOTMZRIG IVSKRX OORY
Ford stopped, staring through the paper, remembering horrified, unseeing blue eyes and a sheen of sweat over a familiar face, a cool blue light washed over the memory.
He couldn’t remember any words that weren’t gibberish, but when he tried to pull on the memory more all he could see were angry or disgusted expressions from that same face and him pulling away from Ford, and a prevailing sense of guilt.
“What did I..?” He asked, out loud, a new fear starting to hit him. A new sense of the story with a turn that scared him.
“Ford?”
Ford pulled his hands away from the folder, feeling the tears spring suddenly from his eyes when he looked to Stan. “What if-” The hypothetical turned into such certainty that he didn’t even finish it, feeling tears fall. “This was my fault.” He said.
Stan paused, looking caught off guard at the sudden change, but Ford couldn’t stop himself. “This was my fault.” He said again.
“You- No. We don’t even know what’s going on.” Stan said. “And- and why would you be so scared if this was-! No.” He finished firmly. “No, it wasn’t you.”
“You don’t even know me. What I was like before this.”
Why was a dangerous machine in his basement? Why did the first person he remembered look so traumatized? Why had he tried to kill his own brother in his sleep?
Stan pulled him into a tight hug that broke through his thoughts.
Ford reached up to hold onto Stan’s shoulders, needing the contact even if he didn’t deserve the comfort.
“Hey genius, you wouldn’t be freaking out about it if whatever happened was what you wanted to happen.” Stan told him, half sarcastic. “Didn’t you go to school for a friggin’ extra decade?"
Ford hiccuped a laugh, the logic taking apart the building worries in his head, bringing him back down into a grounded reality. “Don’t ask me,” he said. “I don’t even remember my middle name.”
“Heh, It’s Filbrick.”
“Filbrick? What an awful name. Couldn’t I have gotten something better?”
Stan laughed, sudden and loud like the joke had caught him truly and sincerely off guard.
#fictober#fictober18#blinded eye au#my fics#c: paranoid ford#c: mullet stan#c:stan#c:ford#aNGST#guilt + no memories = 'what if I'M the bad guy in this actually?????????'#yeah no imma keep posting my 2 year old fictobers until i finish them out
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Fictober Day 28: “I felt it... You know what I mean.”
Rating: Teen and up
Fandom: Overwatch
Characters: Jesse McCree, Hanzo Shimada
Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and drinking.
Notes: Part six of “Try harder, next time.” [Part 1] | [Part 2] | [Part 3] | [Part 4] | [Part 5], and also Jesse’s perspective from “This is gonna be so much fun.”
Words: 1594
Jesse never saw himself as the kind of guy who would fall head-over-heels in love. He never once thought he would settle down, have a family, live a plain and boring life, get old and die in his sleep surrounded by loved ones.
In his teens, he was too busy getting into trouble with the law. In his twenties, he was too busy being a badass on the right side of the law. After Blackwatch, he was on the move too much. Hopping from county to county, doing bounty after bounty. Sure, he met people. Sure, he'd pick people up at bars, take them back to his motel for the night, but he'd be gone the next morning, often before they woke up and realised just who he was.
He’s lived a life too reckless for such thoughts. But as he sits here, on this couch, watching ‘Once Upon a Time in the West’ with half a bottle of sake positively thrumming through his system, with Hanzo curled up against him, asleep with his head on his shoulder... It's all he can think about.
It's probably the alcohol. Yeah, Hanzo's easy on the eyes. He's damn impressive on the training range, and is an absolute hoot when he's got a bit of alcohol in his system to loosen him up. His smile is infectious, his laugh makes Jesse's stomach flutter fiercely, and when Ree came to visit yesterday, it took her all of one hour to pull him aside and ask what the hell was up because apparently he's been staring at Hanzo and didn't even realise.
He lied through his teeth, said it was nothing, that he and Hanzo had become good friends. Ree, though, Ree saw right through it, called him out and he admitted that there might be something more.
Ree, his trusty voice of reason, advised him against it, very soberly reminded him of what Hanzo did to Genji. It stopped him for all of half a second before he told her that he wouldn't be here if he wasn't given a second chance, so he should extend that same courtesy to Hanzo. And that Genji said to trust him, which he did and does. Ree looked unconvinced, but he told her to talk to Genji about it.
Jesse's not sure what Genji said to change her tune yesterday, but today Ree was all over him, practically thinking up their first date. It got Jesse a little giddy, he said he wanted to get Hanzo something for passing his probation. Brainstorming led to sake, which led to asking Genji what his favourite bottle was, which led to the bottle shop where Hanzo made plans for the perfect first date, and Jesse's not really sure Hanzo knew it at the time.
Well. That's to say that what he had planned was Jesse's perfect idea for a first date. Alcohol and westerns? Doesn't get better than that.
But it did get better.
In the minutes after the movie was put on, once people realised it was indeed another western, where they decided to stay or go, the usual entire watchpoint who attend movie night was whittled down to him and Hanzo, Hana, Brigitte and Torbjörn.
Torbjörn lasted twenty minutes before he was softly snoring on other couch. Hanzo was asleep five minutes after that. Jesse could tell he was getting tired by the way he curled his legs beside himself and leaned against Jesse just that little bit. He was doing that adorable thing where his head was falling forward as his eyes grew heavier, only to jerk himself awake. But he finally fell asleep, head resting against the back of the couch before slowly falling to the side, where he ended up against Jesse’s shoulder.
Jesse was thankful for many things. One, his arm was resting against the back of the couch at the time, and when Hanzo fell asleep, he had the ability to just brush his fingertips against his shoulder. Two, the room was empty save for the other three, and Hana and Brigitte were too distracted with trying to decide how to stack chips on Torb. As long as they were quiet, he didn’t really care what they did.
“...wait till we’re done,” Hana says over the sound of the movie, and Jesse brings his hand up on the couch again, “before giving us the scare of our lives. Unlike a certain cowboy.”
“Just like to throw it back in your faces,” Jesse murmurs. Every time they try it on him, assuming he is asleep, he does, in fact, enjoy holding still and scaring the living daylights out of them. “Give you a taste of your own medicine.”
“You’re lucky Hanzo’s asleep on you,” Hana retorts, “otherwise he’d be the target, considering he’s never asleep in here.”
Jesse all but bristles in response to that. No way is he going to let her get anywhere near Hanzo. Not when this is just absolutely perfect. They go back to talking in hushed whispers, and Jesse glances over, watches as Hana reaches for the bag of chips on the table, and they have claimed their next victim. He leaves them be, as long as it doesn’t wake Hanzo he doesn’t care.
He risks bringing his hand back down again, this time resting on Hanzo’s shoulder, given the girls are too busy with Torb to notice. He tries to focus on the movie, but with Hanzo against him, he just can’t. He didn’t realise how much he wanted this, sleepy cuddles on a couch with someone who knows about him, his history and didn’t run away or judge him for it.
Not only that, he realises just how much Hanzo trusts him, getting comfortable enough to let his guard down, to sleep. Jesse’s not entirely sure he would if the roles were reversed, and it’s not because he doesn’t trust Hanzo, it’s just something that’s ingrained into him, something which has been for most of his life, to sleep with one eye open, never letting his guard down.
And right now, he wants nothing more than to give in and let that guard down, trust Hanzo as Hanzo clearly trusts him. But when he hears a yelp from Brigitte, sees how she takes Hana’s hand and races out of the room, he holds Hanzo just that little bit tighter, like holding him tight will protect him from that, and by some miracle, he stays asleep.
The same can’t be said about Torb, though, as he chuckles, picks a chip off his chest and eats it, before tipping the rest of them into the abandoned packet on the floor. “Children,” he says as he sits up, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. He groans as he stands up, packet still in hand. “I am going to bed before they come back for round two.”
“‘Night,” Jesse murmurs, watching Torb leave the room, and he breathes a sigh of relief, now that the room is empty, looking at Hanzo. He smiles before turning his attention back to watch the movie.
Or he tries to, at least, but he can’t help but look down at Hanzo, stroke his shoulder with his thumb. He feels a flutter in his stomach, and he doesn’t know whether it’s the alcohol, or the mood, or coming to terms with the fact that he is in love with Hanzo, but he can’t help but lean in and kiss the top of his head before nuzzling against him.
He watches the final minutes of the movie, not really paying attention to it given how focused he is on this moment right now, and when the credits roll, he sighs, knowing he should get Hanzo to bed before he too falls asleep and they get found like this. Pulling his head up, he giving Hanzo a gentle shake to wake him up.
Hanzo sits up slowly, looking from the TV to Jesse. “I fell asleep,” he mumbles.
“Sure did.” Jesse grabs the remote from beside him, turning off the TV. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.” He stands, offering Hanzo his hand, and Hanzo takes it, standing up. Hanzo looks at him, hand still in Jesse’s, sheepish little smile on his face before he weaves their fingers together.
They walk in silence, hand in hand, and Jesse’s heart pounds in his chest. The walk to Hanzo’s room is short, too short, he could do laps of the watchpoint for hours like this, but they stop in front of it, Hanzo presses his thumb to the keypad and the door opens.
“I had an enjoyable evening,” Hanzo says. “Though we will have to watch the movie again, I missed most of it.”
“Yeah, should raincheck on it.”
Hanzo smiles, looks at their joined hands before pulling away, and Jesse’s heart all but aches for his touch again. “Goodnight, Jesse.”
“‘Night.”
Hanzo takes a step inside, but once he’s over the threshold he turns back, smirking. “I felt it,” he says, and Jesse’s stomach drops. Then, he winks. “You know what I mean.” And with that, he closes the door, and Jesse just stares at it dumbfounded, in shock, embarrassed, and can’t move.
There is only one thought in his head.
Hanzo felt the kiss.
Hanzo felt the kiss.
When he does move, it’s with purpose. He walks right up to Ree’s door, knocks until she answers, and the second it opens, he grabs her hand and pulls her out. “I did something stupid and I’m about ready to explode.”
[First] | [Previous] | [Next]
#Fictober18#Day 28: I felt it... You know what I mean#Jesse McCree#Hanzo Shimada#McHanzo#Overwatch#post-recall#*Jesse's in love*#and he did a whoopsie!#fallout in tomorrow's prompt: at least it can't get any worse#chilliebean writes#my fic
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Fictober18 Day 18
Original Fiction
Prompt: ““You should have seen it.”
Erin/Gerald Story!! Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6
At Wilhemina’s declaration, all the students standing near Erin stood several steps back, leaving her in a space standing by herself. Surprised, angry, she looked up at the student council vice president, shaking her head.
“I haven’t…”
“OF COURSE you’re going to deny it!” Wilhemina interrupted, laughing. “But if you look at the facts, I think it’s easy to see just how obvious of a trail you’ve left behind.” She stepped down from the stage, the students parting to make a path for her as she moved closer to Erin, finally stopping just a few feet away. Her smile was cruel as she lifted a finger to point in Erin’s face.
“Normally I wouldn’t have done this so publically. But I have a duty to my fellow students to protect them from danger, and if the administration is going to ignore you because of your powerful relatives, then my only choice is to expose you for the devious criminal you are!”
At the girl’s self-righteous tone Erin felt her blood boil. Her magical power surged within her, a ringing in her ears beginning as the growing magic pressed up against the restriction spell. She wanted nothing more than to reach forward and crush the girl in front of her.
It would be so easy to destroy her.
She wouldn’t even have time to realize how she died.
As she stood there, struggling, she felt a hand rest softly on her shoulder, and a familiar voice spoke out, breaking her from her angry spiral.
“If you are willing to declare this so publically, I assume you have hard evidence of wrongdoing?”
Gerald’s voice was so cold the surrounding students took another step back, trying to distance themselves from the two. Between Erin’s terrifying aura and Gerald’s glare, even Wilhemina felt the pressure and wanted to retreat. Breaking out in a cold sweat, she stepped forward, her smile a little more forced.
“It’s simple:” She counted off on her fingers. “First, the only person who would benefit in this school from stealing level 3 fire powers is someone who has lesser abilities. In this school, admission criteria are high, there is only one student who has all abilities under level 3.” She chuckled. “In fact, despite being in your period of growth, you have yet to increase your power by even a single level, isn’t that right, Erin?”
The murmuring of the surrounding students grew louder, Erin felt more than one angry stare on her back.
“Second, despite her only having level 1 powers, she was able to strike a blow to Frederick several weeks ago, knocking him down. This would take considerably more power than she is known to have.”
Her eyes looked over at Gerald, and her grin widened. “And the final proof is you yourself, prince. Upon meeting her, what was the first thing you said? That she was the most powerful student in this academy, right?”
“But that…” Gerald tried to break in, but Wilhemina would not let him talk.
“Not even you can explain away how a student with only level 1 abilities can suddenly be the most powerful student in the academy… unless she is stealing powers from her fellow students.”
The murmurs around her had grown into angry shouts. Erin shook her head, realizing she had no hope of convincing them in this atmosphere. She looked her accuser in the eye, making the other girl grow pale.
“Wilhemina, you and I both know that I am not behind these. You can continue take advantage of this situation now, and spread these lies, but just know this:”
She stepped forward, only inches separating them now. When she finally spoke, it was just loud enough for the two of them to hear. “When the time comes, and the truth comes to light, I will remember to repay my debts. And you won’t be able to afford the cost.”
Wilhemina showed a vicious expression. “You know where to find me, Worthless Princess.”
The assembly ended with that, but Erin’s troubles were just beginning.
Her school life had never been pleasant, but now it had descended into absolute hell. Some students simply ignored her, refusing to be near her and pretending she didn’t exist. Erin preferred these methods.
Some, however, took a more devious route. Destroying her belongings, shredding her assignments before they could be handed in. Small, almost undetectable magic attacks struck her throughout magical theory class. Wind magic ripped out her hair, fire magic singed her clothes, water magic filled her shoes and froze into place. Exhausted, Erin would spend the majority of her mental energy countering or protecting herself from attacks in all directions. Her head pounded constantly as she was forced to draw on magic over and over, pushing constantly on her restrictions.
Things were even worse in the practical studies. Once on the practice field, sash after sash was thrown at her feet, as students lined up for the opportunity to face her in a magical fight. Unable to reject, she accepted each duel, and fought bitterly to the end. With her restrictions still in place, there was very little she could do, and each fight ended with her on the ground, her anger and bitterness growing with each loss.
Gerald was beside himself. He stayed by her side despite the pressure, healing her after each fight. His face was pale, his hands trembling as he helped her to her feet each time.
“Let me help!” He begged her one day after her fifth loss since practical studies had begun, wanting to take her place. “This is killing you!”
Erin smiled wanly, reaching out to gently touch his face. “I have to fight my own battles.” She shook her head, trying to clear it as she tried to steady herself on her feet. “Besides, they may not realize it, but they are actually helping me grow stronger.” She grinned. “That was the point of the restriction spell in the first place, after all.”
Gerald did not return her smile, looking more worried. “Being stronger in the future won’t help anything if you’re dead.” He looked at her determined expression, and then sighed loudly. “At least let me help out with the ones who are breaking the rules to attack you during theory class.”
Erin tilted her head, blinking her eyes as her vision blurred briefly. “Would that make you feel better?”
His expression was grim. “No, but it will definitely make them feel worse.”
Laughing bitterly, she agreed, turning to face her next opponent.
Having gotten her agreement, Gerald didn’t waste any time. He immediately went on a rampage, challenging every student that had attacked her secretly during class. Caught in the same trap that Erin was, they had no choice but to accept a formal duel.
They didn’t stand a chance.
Against average students, his level 5 Insight truly shined, allowing him to counter and utterly defeat each opponent. He showed no mercy, often attacking faster than they could surrender. Many were carried off the field unconscious, broken bones and internal injuries became a common sight in the infirmary.
It didn’t lessen the number of challenges that Erin received each day, but quickly the secret harassment she received during class stopped, as word got around that it was a easiest way to find oneself facing one of the strongest students of the academy.
Erin knew that it was causing Gerald to be viewed as an accomplice, that he was being avoided and ostracized as well. She felt guilty about it, talked to him multiple times, but still he stubbornly refused to leave her side.
“How can I convince you to marry me if I can’t handle a little pressure like this?” He would say with a grin before going out to challenge students once again.
Day by day Erin’s frustration grew. Each fight she pushed harder on her restrictions, trying to win. Occasionally she would be able to pull out extra power and land a blow, but it always came at the cost of headache, dizziness, sometimes to the point of knocking her unconscious. And any time she did use more power, the rumors regarding her being the attacker simply grew stronger.
Erin was getting tired.
In the midst of this situation spiraling out of control, she received a summons from Lady Belanna, the headmistress of St. Julienne’s Academy. Frustrated, Erin considered pretending she hadn’t received it, but knowing it was unavoidable as long as she was at this school, she headed slowly to the administrative office. This had to be about the rumors of her being the attacker.
Immediately after arriving Erin realized this meeting was not going to go well.
“Sit down, dear! Can I get you a cup of tea?” Lady Belanna’s voice was sickly sweet, her face a perfect mask of concern and caring. All it succeeded in doing was making Erin more uncomfortable, as she hunched her shoulders, avoiding contact with the older woman.
“No I’m fine, thanks.”
“Alright then.” Abruptly frowning, the headmistress sat at her desk, staring over at Erin with a pensive expression. “You’re in a very difficult position, dear.”
“I’m not…”
She waved a hand, interrupting Erin mid-sentence. “Oh, I know you’re not the attacker. You’re simply not capable of that advanced magic.” She leaned forward, lacing her fingers together. “The problem is that everyone now believes you are, and I have really no way to prove that you are innocent.”
“Shouldn’t you have to prove I’m guilty?” Erin asked, shaking her head.
“It’s the perception of your guilt that’s important, dear. No one has ever cared about the facts. What they want is a story.” She smiled, but the expression didn’t reflect in her eyes. “If this continues onward, I will be left with no choice but to move forward with your expulsion.”
“…” A few breaths of silence hung in the air as they both processed the implications of that statement. Finally Erin broke it, throwing her head back and laughing loudly. She laughed for a while, unrestrained, until she finally caught her breath, wiping tears from her eyes.
“What, may I ask, do you find so funny about this situation?” The headmistress’s voice was cold.
“I just thought about what my father’s reaction will be to his only child be expelled.” She chuckled again. “I am the only black spot on his otherwise perfect reputation. He is going to lose his mind when he hears this.”
Lady Belanna lost it. “I can’t believe you would find that amusing!” She stood up, her face red. “Your father has given you everything, you ungrateful brat, and all you have done is caused him trouble!” At those spiteful words she seemed to catch herself, and realizing that her mask was slipping, carefully tried to rearrange it into a pleasant expression once again.
“I’m sorry, Éirinne. I’m not angry, I’m just worried about your future.” She sat back down with a sigh. “Why don’t I contact your father? Between the two of us, I bet we can get this nasty rumor business all sorted out. You shouldn’t have to suffer like this, dear.”
Erin stood up herself with a calm smile, startling the older woman. “I’m not suffering at all, Headmistress. I know that in the end, the truth will win out. So thank you for the offer, but I don’t need your help, or my father’s.” She turned towards the door, pretending not to notice when the chair arm that Lady Belanna was grasping cracked in her grip. “I’ll see myself out.”
With that, she left the office, feeling satisfied for the first time since Wilhemina called her out in the assembly.
“Erin!”
Hearing her name called out by a familiar voice as she left the administrative building, Erin paused and turned to face them.
“Olivia. How have you been?” Her tone was bland, her face blank. She had barely seen the other girl since the student assembly. Despite sitting near each other in class, they hadn’t spoken or spent any time together since her harassment started.
Olivia stood in front of her, looking exhausted and worn down. Erin looked in her eyes and was startled to see unshed tears hovering there.
“Look, Erin, I know I’ve been a terrible friend. I should have been there for you… but…” The girl trailed off miserably.
“I understand you have your own issues, and you have to prioritize your family and scholarship over my troubles. I would have never wanted you to hurt yourself trying to stand by me.” Erin spoke slowly, trying to reign in her temper. “But I can’t lie and say it didn’t hurt to see you ignore me. I mean, we share a dorm suite and I still haven’t seen you in days. Where have you even been sleeping?”
Olivia shook her head. “I saw you leaving the Headmistress’s office. Are you in trouble?”
“You should have seen it.” Erin grinned. “She tried to pressure me to depend on her and my father, using vague threats without a shred of evidence. Her face when I turned her down was priceless.”
“… Why did you turn her down?” the question was asked so quietly, Erin almost couldn’t hear it.
Even when she realized what had been asked, she didn’t believe she had heard right. They had been friends for years. Although Olivia didn’t know the specifics about her family situation, she knew that her father hated her, and that Lady Belanna wanted to use her to get in her father’s good graces. Just that alone should have prevented her from asking this.
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.” Erin’s voice was cold, and Olivia shuddered visibly and shrank back. But seeming to find some hidden determination, she met Erin’s eyes again and pushed forward.
“You have to think practically! You could get expelled! Is it really that big of a deal to depend on people, even if you don’t like them?”
Seeing Erin’s stony face and obviously realizing she wasn’t getting anywhere, Olivia sighed and continued. “This isn’t even why I was trying to talk to you. I wanted to warn you.”
Erin raised an eyebrow. “Warn me?”
“Yes. I didn’t want to say anything because he seemed so nice and liked you and everything, but you need to be careful around Gerald.”
“…” Erin stared at Olivia in shock.
“Look, the timing of the attacks is just too coincidental. They started right after he got here! How much do we really know about him anyways?” She trailed off again, realizing that Erin’s expression was growing more and more angry.
“And why do you think he would be stealing powers from other students?” Erin struggled to keep her voice calm. “He has level 5 insight, level 4 water and earth abilities. How would he benefit from stealing powers that were weaker than what he currently has?”
Olivia hesitated, before reaching out to grasp Erin’s hand. “What if he’s doing it for you? He may be planning to transfer their abilities to you, to help you get stronger…”
Erin stared at Olivia. She considered telling her the truth… that she wasn’t weak, that there was no reason for him to bestow powers onto her. But in the end she stopped herself, pulling her hand away from her friend’s grasp.
“I’m sorry, but you’re wrong about him.”
“Erin…” Olivia sounded like she was about to cry.
“I have to go.” With that, Erin turned around and walked away, refusing to look back.
Erin spent the night in her dorm room, thinking things over carefully. Everything was happening too quickly. She briefly thought over Olivia’s accusations before brushing them aside, unwilling to exam too closely why even the idea of it made her heart hurt. Closing her eyes and sighing, she leaned back in her bed.
I need help.
She turned the silver ring on her finger, and whispered the incantation to activate the artifact her aunt had given her.
-This had better be an emergency, Erin.
Aunt Elsinore’s voice sounded in her ear, the irritable tone strangely comforting.
“I’m sorry, but honestly, I don’t know who else to talk to.” Erin felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, and absentmindedly wiped them away.
-… What the heck is going on? Do I need to kill someone?
With a quiet laugh, Erin detailed all of the attacks that had been going on, including the accusations against her and Gerald, as well as Lady Belanna’s offer.
-That stupid girl is still lusting after the devil while thinking he’s an angel.
Aunt Elsinore was nothing if not blunt.
- You were right to stay far away from her and your father. As for these attacks… it’s very strange.
“What is?”
- Procurement is a top-secret ability, much like my restriction. It is a variant of the spiritual reinforcement power combined with a healing ability, but instead of strengthening the ability in question; it cuts it off at the source and heals off the connection, as if the person in question had never had the ability to begin with.
Erin frowned, getting more frustrated. “Who would be able to do something like this?”
- They would have to have high up connections in the government. I don’t know the magic user, their identity is hidden much my own, but whoever it is produces artifacts that can be activated to steal abilities.
Her voice was cynical.
- It’s supposed to be used as a military grade weapon. For the artifacts to appear at a school… whoever it is has some serious backing.
“Can the victim’s powers be restored?”
- If you get your hands on the artifact used to steal the powers in the first place, they can be used to reverse the process.
Erin sighed with relief. “Well at least that’s something.” She rubbed her face, exhausted. “Now I just have to figure out who is doing this… and why.”
-There’s not much I can do to help you…
Her Aunt hesitated, before speaking in a much sterner tone.
- Erin, What have you done to the restriction spell?
Erin’s eyes snapped open, confused. “What do you mean?”
-It’s cracking, coming apart at the seams. I don’t know what foolishness you’ve been up to, but stop it. If you break the spell forcibly, the backlash could kill you.
“Why don’t you just remove it then?” She threw up her hands in frustration, forgetting that her aunt couldn’t see the gesture.
-If I remove it, I won’t be able to fully seal your powers again like I did when you were thirteen. You will lose your advantage when it comes time to kill your father.
Aunt Elsinore’s voice sighed quietly.
-Just be careful, and let the spell do its work. I’ll do some research, I may be able to repair the spell somewhat. I’ll contact you soon.
With that, her aunt’s presence was gone. She was alone once again.
Unable to sleep, she went outside for a walk. Despite it being dark out, Erin couldn’t find it within herself to feel nervous.
After all, she reasoned with herself, right now they’re successfully blaming me for all this, it would be counterproductive to attack me right now.
Despite this, she was fairly distracted, keeping her head down and walking forward… only to run straight into someone’s chest.
“Fancy meeting you here.” A cheerful greeting immediately slowed down her racing heart rate.
“Gerald.” She looked up at him with a smile, before glancing around. “What are you doing here so late?”
“I heard about you getting called to the Headmistress’s office, and I was worried.” He shrugged. “So I snuck over to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m…” Erin tried to force out the word “okay”, but it stuck in her throat.
Distressed she looked away, and so was surprised when a pair of arms surrounded her, pulling her into a gentle hug.
“You don’t have to be fine, Erin. You’re allowed to be not okay after all this.” Gerald spoke quietly, his breath warm against the top of her head.
“I hate this.” She whispered back, “I’m angry, and I want to hurt whoever is doing this.”
He chuckled in response. “I’ll help you hold them down and you can beat them up.” He straightened up, slowly letting go of Erin, and giving her a wide smile when she made a reluctant face at the parting as well.
“Okay, I’m going to change the subject, before my brain fries from excitement.” He took a deep breath, looking away, a light flush coloring the tips of his ears. “What happened this afternoon?”
Erin summarized her encounters with the headmistress and her aunt, but left out Olivia and her accusations. She felt bad, but didn’t want him to dislike her best friend for some poorly chosen comments.
He nodded with satisfaction as she described turning down the headmistress. “Good. She’s super creepy and staying away from her seems like a strong plan. As for what your aunt said…”
He then hesitated. “Erin, I have to confess something.”
Erin balked, her face draining of blood. Please don’t let it be…
Gerald saw her expression and held his hands up quickly. “No! Nothing terrible… it’s just…” He ran his hand through his hair, obviously uncomfortable. “It’s just… I may know who is behind this.”
Erin reached out, grabbing his arm. “Who?!”
“It’s not that simple.” He shook his head. “I only have suspicions, not evidence, and I think there’s something bigger going on behind the scenes. What your aunt said about the culprit having high up government connections confirms that.”
He pulled away, reaching inside his pocket and pulling out two packages.
“I have to confirm one last thing, and then I promise I’ll lay all my cards out on the table, and we’ll talk this through. I just don’t want to accuse the wrong person and hurt someone. But just in case, I want you to take these:”
He opened the first package, pulling out a simple gold chain necklace with a red stone.
Erin reached out, but then hesitated to touch it. “It’s an artifact?”
Gerald grinned. “It’s a level 5 insight type artifact, you don’t have to worry about it crumbling to dust when you touch it.”
“Okay.” She took it from him, looked at it a moment, then placed it around her neck. “What is it for?”
“It has a tracking ability.” He gently tapped the red stone on the chain. “It has a drop of my blood used in the forging of it. If you activate it, you should be able to find me, no matter where I am.”
Erin frowned. “Why should I…”
“If you need me, you can reach me.” His grin was rueful. “I can’t make communication artifacts, this is the best I can do.”
“Fine.” She looked at the cloth package still in his hand. “What’s that?”
“This?” He hesitated, weighing it in his hand for a moment. “This is just the level 2 wind artifact that I owe Olivia. You know, the one i tossed you that was accidentally destroyed? I had it made in town, but haven’t had a chance to give it to her. If you see her, can you make sure she gets it?”
Erin thought about refusing, saying that Gerald should give it to her himself, but remembering the other girl’s accusations earlier, decided against it. “I can’t touch this one, though, with my wind abilities, it will immediately self destruct.”
“You’ll be fine if you keep it in the cloth.” With that he handed it to her and sighed, seemingly relieved.
“I’m going to go do my best, please promise me no matter what that you’ll take care of yourself.”
Why did this seem like a final goodbye?
Worried, Erin reached out to grab his hand, but Gerald simply took it, bowed, and gave a light kiss to the back of her hand before stepping away.
“Gerald…” She couldn’t conceal the anxiety she felt, but he only smiled in response.
He paused, and then spoke once more. “The last student who was attacked... She had grade 4 wind magic. You should know this, just in case.”
“What do you…?”
“Goodbye, Erin.”
With that, he turned and strode away, leaving Erin alone on the walkway. She stared at his back, a dark sense of foreboding welling up within her.
He’ll be okay. She told herself. He has to be.
Except he wasn’t. The next day, he didn’t show up to theory class, to practical studies, or anywhere else on campus. He was gone.
Erin wandered around the pathways, as the sun was setting. Moving away from the other students, she looked around trying to find a place where she could be alone.
“Erin? What are you doing here?”
It was Olivia again.
“I’m looking for Gerald, have you seen him?” Erin was distracted, barely noticing when the other girl flinched slightly at his name.
“No, Erin I thought I told you to stay away…”
“Nevermind then I’ll keep looking.” Distraught, she looked around helplessly.
Where could he be?
Wait… the artifact! She remembered that Gerald had given her the necklace to track him down. Had he predicted something like this would happen?
That reminded her.
“By the way, this is for you.” She tossed the cloth covered wind artifact over to Olivia, who caught it. A curious expression on her face, she unwrapped the pendant…
Only to have it dissolve into dust in her hands.
“Erin?” Olivia’s voice was strangely flat. “What was that? An artifact?”
“It was the replacement…” Erin trailed off, confused. It was a level 2 wind artifact… why would it self-destruct in Olivia’s hands? She had level 2 wind powers, at the same level of ability or lower, it should have been fine…
Unless…
She thought about what Gerald had told her, right before he said goodbye.
“The last student who was attacked... She had grade 4 wind magic. You should know this, just in case.”
She had gained abilities from someone else.
“Olivia…?” Erin’s voice cracked on the name, her hands trembling so badly she gripped them together. “What have you done?”
#fictober18#writing#short story#part 7#magic#revenge#plot thickens#i really hope you guys like this#the twist is necessary#big battle coming up in next part#more reveals as well#erin/gerald story
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Fictober Day 16 - This Is Gonna Be So Much Fun
I really didn’t like Frozer. Partially because I’m not a fan of making the love square even more complicated than it needs to be, but there were a lot of other things I didn’t like about it. So, for all those who felt similarly, I present to you my version of Frozer. There is no akuma, presumably because Adrien agreed endorse the ice skater man right away.
Enjoy!
Read on Ao3
With a great sigh, Marinette stepped into the ice rink studio, bag slung over her shoulder. Luka had dropped out of the double date at the last minute. Something about the music not feeling right. She didn’t understand a word of it, but he seemed pretty adamant that he couldn’t go with her today. Since it was so last minute, she didn’t have a chance to find anyone else to go out with her.
Which meant she’d get to be the third wheel as she watched Adrien and Kagami hit it off. No doubt after this they’d make it official. Then Adrien would be too busy to hang out with them and he’d be gone from her life entirely. All without ever getting the chance for her to tell him how she feels. Eyes downcast, she reflected that she wished she had taken the opportunity to tell him how she felt before it had been too late.
“Oh hey, Marinette!” Adrien waved to her from the benches. She sat down next to him, where he was attempting to put his ice skates on. “I… don’t suppose you know how to ice skate, do you?”
“Didn’t you say Kagami knows how to? Why don’t you ask her?” She winced internally - she hadn’t meant to sound so standoffish.
Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. He seemed… nervous, weirdly. “Funny you should mention… Kagami had something come up, but I didn’t want you two to be disappointed if I canceled so… here I am!” Adrien looked past her and frowned. “Wait, where’s Luka?”
“He backed out too, actually. Guess that just leaves us.” She laughed nervously and fiddled with her shoe laces, not really trying to tie them. No doubt he was going to cancel if it was just the two of them… right?
“Oh!” Marinette was startled by his sudden excitement. “I think I got it.” She glanced over to see him with a very sloppily tied ice skate, which he quickly mirrored on the other side. He noticed her staring and let his eyes drop to her feet. He knelt in front of her and took up her laces in his hands.
“Um… A-are sure want skate to?” He looked up at her, confused, but smiling softly. Swallowing heavily, she said again, more slowly. “Are you sure you skate want to? If… if, uh, it’s just us…”
He turned his attention back to her laces. “Why would I want to cancel now?”
Continuing quietly, she said, “Well, this, this was supposed to be a date, right? But if the dates aren’t here, then, then, uh, w-what’s the point?”
Adrien finished tying her laces and looked back up at her from his spot on the ground. He unconsciously placed a hand on her knee to help himself stand and said, “We have each other, at least. You’re an awesome friend, Marinette. With you around, I know this is going to be so much fun!” His smile faded. “Unless… you don’t want to hang out without Luka around?”
“No no no! I love you. I mean! I love to be around you.” She put her hands over her face out of embarrassment. “Please don’t be creeped out.” She peered out from between her fingers to see Adrien looking shocked before settling back into a warm smile.
“It’s alright, Marinette. If it makes you feel better, I love hanging out with you too.” And just like that, he made his way onto the ice, unaware of the pounding of her heart.
Eventually, with some encouragement from Tikki, she remembered how to put one foot in front of the other again - Yes! Progress! After a few minutes, she learned many things. She learned how much she didn’t like falling on her butt repeatedly on the ice. It quickly became learn how this was the first time Adrien had ever done something like this. Despite the pain and inexperience, they were laughing till they were red in the face - both at each other and at themselves.
The skating tutor came down after a particularly rough fall and lead Marinette by the hand over to Adrien. “Both of you are inexperienced - you’ve made this very clear to me. You two need to take it slow, and you need some kind of support.” He put Marinette’s hand in Adrien’s. “There! Now just stay around the edge and keep each other standing. You’ll get the hang of it soon enough. And, if you want to sign up for classes later…” He smiled as he departed.
With Marinette being too busy internally combusting, Adrien took the lead and they started making their way around the rink.
“So… Marinette…” Adrien’s eyes were firmly fixed on what was directly ahead of him. He swallowed heavily and slowly asked, “You and Luka…?”
“Wha- Oh! No, we’re just friends, that’s all.”
“Oh. Cool!” His smile returned as he increased their pace, seeming more relaxed than he had been before.
“What about you and Kagami?”
“We… don’t do a lot outside fencing practice. She gave me some advice when I was feeling down, so I thought I’d take her out.” He rubbed the back of his neck again. “But yeah… we’re just friends too. To be honest, I’m not sure things would’ve worked out anyway.”
“So why did you ask her out?”
“I… I don’t know. She was there for me at a moment when I really needed someone to be, I guess.” He looked at her warmly. “Thanks for coming, by the way. I was really nervous - I’ve never been on a date before.” Laughing, he added, “I suppose I still haven’t. But it was really cool of you to help me like this. I appreciate it.”
“Mention it don’t! I mean, don’t mention it! I… I’m always h-happy to help a… a friend.”
“Really? Here I thought it was because you loved being around me.” He chuckled as she tried to sputter out a defense. “I’m just teasing, Marinette. And like I said, I love being around you too. Not a lot of people would be willing to provide moral support even after their date cancels.”
Marinette failed to respond, since she was too busy freaking out over how close they were to having just said ‘I love you’ to each other. Two words! Two less words and we’d be making out right now. Well, probably not, but still!
The conversation drifted to safer shores and they slowly got the hang of ice skating. By that time, however, their time was up. After changing back into their normal shoes, they exited the building, Marinette watching as Adrien made his way towards the car that would be taking him home.
Mustering every bit of Ladybug confidence she could, she ran after him. “Hey, Adrien!”
He stopped unexpectedly and she bumped into him. While she was reeling, he reached out to steady her. “What do you need, Marinette?”
“Well, you see, I was just wondering…” The shyness began creeping up on her again. “If… you’d want to go skating at the ice rink more often?”
“Just… the two of us?” He tilted his head to the side, uncertain.
“Would that… be okay?”
He smiled. “I think that would be more than okay.”
#miraculous ladybug#Marinette Dupain-Cheng#Adrien Agreste#Adrienette#fictober18#ml fanfiction#frozer#rewrite#my writing
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#Fictober Day 28
“I felt it. You know what I mean.”
(Undead!Erik x Black!Reader)
Word Count: 9k
Warnings: Violence, smut
“FUCK EVERYTHING!!” You say as you toss your phone aside.
It had been five weeks since your situationship called things off, and you were desperately looking for reprieve in the app life. However, Tinder, Plenty of Fish, Bumble, Black People Meet, and digging through your old schoolmates on Messenger was coming up dry, dull, and completely disgusting to you. If people weren’t being plain boring or curving you, they were breadcrumbing, catfishing, and tryna have they cake and eat it too. You didn’t have time for none of that! Why was it so hard to find a quality guy that could also bust you open on a regular basis? You were good looking thick melanin goddess, with a good job, own place, all you wanted was companionship.
You pull out a bottle of Hennessy and get to sipping to try and feel at least a little bit good and lit. As your body warmed up and your mind got hazy, you start to look through the internets typing random stuff into Google about how to find a good man. The lists telling you to ‘Be yourself’, ‘Don’t be afraid to make a move’, and ‘show him respect’ made you want to throw your shit out of the window. You went out, you were yourself, and sharing your time was the most respectful thing you could do for someone. But the pickings were dustier than the skeletons in their closet.
Sitting back with your drink, you turn to your TV and see Queen of the Damned being played. Aaliyah looks amazing as the sinister title character, complete with embellished crown and bustier, gyrating and hissing at her seduced followers. You wish it was that easy, but of course, you weren’t Aaliyah, or a Queen of the Darkness.
A thought sparks your mind gears as you consider a new inquiry in your search bar. Scrolling through you find all kinds of creepy looking websites boasting incantations, spells, voodoo, and witchcraft that can bring your most desired mate to fawn after you eternally. Some required too much: hoof of a deer, venom from a snake, head of a chicken. No way in hell would you consider massacring and animal for something you were only curious about.
One website got intrigued as it seemed a bit more reasonable in its requests, and it was headed by a Black woman from New Orleans who looked like your great aunt. ‘A spell for renewed bliss’ was the title. All you had to do was get a dead rose, a mirror, a bottle of liquor, a piece of clothing that is important to you, a match, and a Bible.
You grabbed the decayed bouquet that was gifted to you on your last date with what’s his name. And you hadn’t finished your Henny yet, so that would do. You grabbed a mirror, a match (and some weed cuz fuck it), a pair of panties that always got you some good good, and the Holy Book. And you knew exactly where you wanted to go to try this out.
You take 30 min drive out along a secluded, barely lit road that led to the outskirts of town. You didn't make a habit of visiting cemeteries in the middle of the night, but you were feeling Henny bold. You were bored on a saturday with a broken pussy and no one to fuck with, so why not try the other world niggas. You pull up through the gates slowly and drive along the rocky driveway until your headlights illuminate the section number you were looking for.
Getting out of your car, you pull your jacket around you tighter as your phone lit you path while you carried your bag of ingredients. It was the marker closest to the wall, a small stone, cheaply made as he didn't have any family. The marker reads “Erik Stevens". You had heard of him from the news. He caused a raucous in Wakanda and practically took over the world until he was killed. His body was sent back to America but no one could claim him, so the Wakandans gave him a basic burial.
You kneel on the grass in front, opening the bottle of Hennessy to take a swig. You look around you as an owl hoots in the background, sending chills down your spine, but you weren't turning back now. You wanted some entertainment, and the spirit world better not disappoint
The mirror was propped up to face you, and the rose was to be burned and scattered in the bottle of alcohol you brought. You pour some of the concoction on the crotch of the underwear you brought and lay it across a corner of the gravestone. Sitting back, you spark up your joint and crack the Bible open.
“So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them. Entreat me not to leave you, Or to turn back from following after you; For wherever you go, I will go; And wherever you lodge, I will lodge; Your people shall be my people, And your God, my God. Where you die, I will die, And there will I be buried. Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm, for love is strong as death, jealousy is fierce as the grave. Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate." You read, ominously.
“Shit, thats dark.” You whisper as you take a drag and savor the high you were feeling. Looking at the stars in the sky, you were so taken by their beauty you almost forgotten about the task at hand. Completely entranced by the twinkling nature, you don't notice the disturbance in the grass between your feet. You swipe at the tickle near your ankle, judging it to be a bug until it felt bigger and more solid and grabbed you back.
You shake your foot casually until you look down and see a dirty hand.
“Ohhh SHIT!! What the fuck-- Get off!” You scream as you yank your ankle from its grasp and crab walk backwards from the grave.
You watch in horror as the arm extends out in the air, studded with scarification marks. The hand is grasping for leverage creepily until it gets the grass. You can see the stress in its knuckles as it prepares to pull.
You toss your blunt, shaking your head and pinching yourself. “This can’t be happening! This gotta be one of those ‘I had too much chocolate before bed’ dreams.”
Soon as your theorized that, the other hand busted out of the ground, clawing at the grass as the earth between the two started to become disturbed.
“Oh, fuck this!” You yell as you jet to your car. Getting in you push to start the engine, putting it in drive. You had no idea how to get out of the cemetery besides the way you came in, so you forced the car in reverse. Backing into the grass, you desperately turn the steering wheel with all your might to right yourself in the appropriate direction before putting it in drive. Once you did, you looked up through your windshield and what you saw made your body run cold.
Standing before you was the man you thirsted after in your dreams, day and night. The man who was once dead, and looks like everything but now.
Besides being covered in dirt remnants, Erik Stevens looked as good as the day he died. Scars along his entire body, muscles permeating from under his melanin; with the addition of the stab wound T’Challa gave him that caused his death...and he was naked.
He had his head down, locs shielding his face, breathing heavily until his head started to rise to look at you. He stood there expressionless and you weren’t sure what to do. Run him over? Call the police? Call a Priest? Leave an unsatisfactory Yelp review for the auntie’s website that made you do this in the first place?
You were as frozen as he was, forgetting to breathe as you stared at him. No way he could actually see you in the car with the headlights on but his gaze matched yours perfectly.
Suddenly his nostrils flared, eyes bucking, fist clenched, his expression menacing. “AAAGGHHH!!” He roars at you, before booking it out of the cemetery.
“Where the fuck is he going?” You watch as he books it to God knows where. You hit the gas and go after him. He is running along the gravel road, skin to the wind like a madman. He’s fast, but you catch up to him.
“Erik! ERIK!! The hell you goin?!” You yell out the rolled down passenger side window. He looks at you and lands a kick against your car that sends it swerving into the other lane as a car come toward you. Your jaw clenches as you turn the car in the correct lane and hit the brakes. The oncoming car passes you, honking and flipping you off as it goes by you but you’re way too rattled to care. You look in your rearview to see if there are any cars coming before you back up to look where Erik turned into. Stopping the car, you get out, yelling his name once more, but he was long gone in the woods. You hold your head in dread as you think about how you just resurrected a problematic man and set him loose , naked and angry into the city. Walking back to your car, you noticed the sizable dent in the side of your car caused by his foot.
“Oh, I’m finding this damn nigga.” You say to yourself fuming as you try to open it, to no avail.
You are almost home before you notice that the gas on your tank was pointed to the E. You had less than ten miles to the tank before it became empty. Luckily your house was not that far from the gas station in your neighborhood so you made your way there. Paying for your gas in store, you pick yourself up some chips, a tea, and personal pepperoni pizza from the kitchen, hot and ready.
Walking outside, you put your goods on your seat and get the nozzle to pump.
“The hell you doin out here lookin like that?!”
You hear some commotion on the far side of the parking lot. A couple of OGs were looking in an area behind the gas station.
“Boy, is you stupid or sum’n? The hell your clothes out, nigga?! Getcha ass beat round here for that kinda shiet!”
You stop pumping and walk a little closer to get a better view. All you saw was back and ass sitting on a rock. You run back to your car to get the extra blanket in your car and the pizza.
“Aye y’all! Move on, now. Ain’t nuthin to see!” You yell at the graying and drunken street guys watching.
Erik turns at the sound of your voice, and you talk to him gently. “Hey, Erik. It’s aight. You hungry? I know your ass hungry, come on.”
He slowly gets up, walking to you as you try to keep your eyes on his civil areas. His expression was hard as he looked you a moment before snatching the pizza from your hand.
“Uh! Chill the fuck out, Erik. I don’t give a fuck what grave you crawled out of, you better be respectful!” You throw the blanket around him as he practically shoves the whole pizza in his mouth at once.
“Aye, girlie! He botherin you or som’n?” The OGs come up beside you.
One of them goes to point a finger in his face, that instantly gets bent backwards, sending him on the ground, writhing in pain. Erik grabs the other up by the throat as he begs for air.
“Erik! Put them down! Stop right now!” You push him and grab at his arm to put the man down. Erik flings you away from him, making you roll across the asphalt. You get up slow as Erik begins to cause a scene, someone is calling the police.
“Erik! You still hungry?” you ask desperate to get his attention from the man as he turns blue.
Erik looks at you dropping him, and walking your way. He picks you up, shaking you for food.
Your head knocks as he rattles you, but you gain your bearings enough to smack him across his face pretty good. He drops you on the ground, holding his cheek, fire in his eyes.
You get up quickly, backing towards the car. “You don’t get no damn food if you attack, Erik! You hear me! You’ll starve and go right back to wherever the hell you came from if you come for me!” You say with as much authority as you could muster. Erik stops his stampede towards you, huffing with rage.
You start to hear sirens in the distance. “You gotta come with me though. Get in the damn car Erik. Now!”
You start the engine up and put it in drive waiting for him to make his move. He stares at you with the same blankness as he had in the cemetery. The OGs were still rolling on the ground around him and you prayed they would not put a hunt out for Erik. Finally, after what felt like forever, he comes to your car. You forgot the passenger door wasn’t working because of him, but before you could get out and tell him to go in the back, he rips it open and gets in. You look at him as he stares you down. It wasn’t until you got in the enclosure of your car before you smelled him.
“Damn! You really were a corpse! You gettin a bath first man.” You groan in disgust as you start the car and make it out to the street.
Erik’s nostrils glare, clenching his fists. “And I don’t give a damn FUCK about a tantrum, nigga. I could leave you out here to be a hashtag out here in the parking lot. You know the cops wouldn’t mind. Have some sense, I’m tryna help you. But attack me and you as good as dead!”
Erik was thinking, you could tell. He might not have had oxygen in his brain for a while, but he still knew what he was doing. He sits back, taking your instruction.
Once you all get to the house, you get him inside and head for the bathroom. “Don’t sit on anything, touch anything, do anything! I was serious, you are bathing first!”
You run the shower and hand Erik a towel. “I hope you remember how to bathe. I ask for a man and so far, I have became a mother to you. What if the cops got you?”
Erik goes in the kitchen stepping right into the shower, letting the water run over his body, the water pooled around his feet is a muddy brown.
“Take the washcloth, and clean off ALL that dirt. You cannot sit on my furniture with a dirty body.”
Erik stands in one spot, not saying a word, and not moving a muscle.
You roll your eyes, and decide you have to feed him the steps. “Here. Soap?” You squeeze some soap out on the washcloth. “Water?” You put the washcloth in his hand and run water over it. Then you place his hand on his chest to make a lather.
“Waaaassshh.” You say, nodding your head as he watches the suds appear and dirt disintegrate.
Erik looks annoyed at you, but that’s been his default since you picked him up. You leave him to figure himself out as you sit down and open your laptop. The stress of your situation was hitting you with a ferocity beyond your control. What if someone got your license plate number? And he wouldn’t be a hard suspect to find out in the open. Six foot, Black man with scars all over his body? And you would go down for aiding and abetting!
You try and look over the website that gave your the resurrection ingredients and hope there is a reverse to it. You decide to email the Madame, praying she replies soon.
Erik comes out with the towel resting around his neck, body dripping wet and soapy in some parts.
You get up in a huff. “Gatdammit! Get back in there! I don’t believe you washed up for real, but you certainly did not rinse. You need to cover yourself.” You snatch the towel from around Erik’s neck, tying it around his waist. Erik flinches, rubbing the heat on the back of his neck.
“Rinse off! I’ll get ya some clothes!”
As Erik pads away, you look through what you call the “Box of Bullshit” to find Erik something that he could wear. The dude from your situationship left a lotta stuff in your closet and drawers, yet he didn’t have a single understanding of commitment, but that was neither here nor there. You find a simple white tee and some sweatpants and socks. Going back to the bathroom, you crack the door open and toss the clothes in. “I hope you know how to dress yourself.” YOu yell through the door.
As you do some more research, Erik comes out clothed, despite the shirt being inside out and backwards. You also remind yourself to get him some underwear at the drugstore; if him being an undead being wasn’t bad enough to be a target, that dickprint would call him out quick.
Erik stands there staring at you, letting out a grunt.
You look up at him. “What?”
Erik sits down next to you, takes one of your typing hands and rubs it on his stomach.
Snatching it back you yell at him. “Aiiiight, dang! Nigga, Imma need you to learn words again, quick! This sign language sit is not what I’m built for. I’ll order some food, but you finna need to earn your keep soon if you layin up here.” You pull up the website for Little Cesar’s to order some $5 Hot-N-Readys.
Erik looks at your screen and groans pitifully. “Uh...I know you are not being picky? Nigga, this is MY money. If I’m paying, you’re getting something quick and cheap. Your first word you speak to me better be ‘thank you’.”
When the order is placed you get up to get your jacket. “Now look. I have to go get the shit, but the block is too hot for you, so if you can stay here, not touch no shit, that would be helpful. Yes?”
Erik gives you his usual annoyed look. “Great! The food oughta be good motivation to be good.”
----
Stepping out of the Little Ceasar’s with two Hot-N-Readys, you get your keys out to open your car, dropping them in the process.
“Lemme get that for you, baby.” A guy comes up to get your keys from you.
You’re hesitant but play it cool. “Oh, thank you.” You hold your hand out for the keys but the guy keeps a hold of them in his hand.
“What’s your name?” He asks, smiling with a black tooth.
You had no time at all for this Uncle trying to talk to you. You place the pizzas on the hood of your car. “I don’t give that to strangers sir. Give me my keys.”
He kisses his gnarled teeth. “Aww, come on. I don’t bite or nothin…” He steps in front of you reaching for your waist. You step back towards to the door of Little Cesar’s.
“Give me my damn keys!” You say with more bass.
He gives you a sour look and tosses them on the ground. As you pick them up and open your door, soon as you get the pizzas in, he gets by the back of your hair.
“You think you the shit, bitch? Fuckin whore and worth the spit out my mouth.”
You struggle against his grip until you twist your body to jab him in his genitals.
“FUCK!” He exclaims, teetering backwards in pain.
You jump in your car and peel out the parking lot as soon as possible. How was this night starting off as some toxic selfcare and fun to this? You promise to never drink and research voodoo ever again.
You notice some bright headlights in your rearview mirror and adjust to try and see the driver, but no luck. You were on a straightway, so you couldn’t turn off and you were almost home.
Pulling up to your spot, the car pulls up behind you as well. Soon as you get out with the pizzas, that same uncle came out his car limping.
“I told your fuckin ass! You ain’t nuthin. You oughta be glad I’m talkin to your raggedy ass!” You trot up to your door, messing with the keys until the door opens. Erik is standing there ready to eat.
“Fuckin bitch!” the uncle yells.
This catches Erik’s attention as he begins to walk past.
“No, Erik! It's food! Take the food!” you remind him in vain.
The uncle sees Erik coming towards him and stops in his tracks. “Oh shit. Uh, I don't mean nothin by it sir, just a misunderstanding.”
Erik keeps coming.
“Erik, don't fucking hurt him. I swear on everything!” you scold him.
But Erik walks past him, causing some relief to wash over the uncle. But the sound of bent metal, made him jump.
Erik has a grip on the passenger side door, before ripping it off its hinges and smashing it like a ball of paper, glass shattering all over. He tosses the remnants in the car, and punches the windshield in, busting it for good measure.
“Oh, brotha, come on! I didn't even do nothin!”
Erik points in the distance, signaling for him to get the hell outta dodge. Which uncle obliges quickly.
Once he is gone. Erik comes back over to you l, looking intently all over your face and body. You hand him the pizzas. “He didn't do nuthin. I hurt him more than he could.” you say walking inside.
Erik lets out a sound that almost sounded like a laugh, so you assume he approved. You plop on the couch, exhausted.
“You need a drink, there's water. I ain't got nuthin else.”
Erik sits on the couch, fisting slices of pizza into his mouth.
“Chew! It aint gonna run away!” you roll your eyes. “You so extra.”
As Erik chews, you reach for his locs, studying them, dirty and overgrown.
“Remind me to retwist your shit. Lookin like a wilderness man aint cute.”
You get up to go get him a paper towel from the cabinet, and the door hangs off the hinge.
“Shit! I thought I fixed that!” You prop the door closed and give Erik one.
The rest of the evening, you spent searching for answers to you right your creation against the laws of nature, coming up short. The FBI would have a field day with your search history. Erik just sat still on the couch, watching the TV. You didn’t want to go back to your room so you could keep an eye on him, but you certainly couldn’t stay awake all night.
The next morning you get up, stretching out the crook in your neck. Erik was nowhere around you. You get up, becoming frantic as you get up to look outside your door, hoping he hadn’t gone far. Turns out he was just on the steps, looking up at the sky. You go outside to join him, looking down at the sidewalk.
“Erik, did you sleep?” He shakes his head no. “Can you? Sleep?” He shakes his head no. You study his profile, he looks a little sad. “Are you hungry?” He shakes his head no. “Well, I got a spare toothbrush for you. Use it, and I’ll do your hair, aight?”
He nods, getting up to do as he was told. You take a moment to look at the sun, wondering what the hell you were going to do.
You join Erik in the bathroom as he is rinsing his mouth. He looks a little more alive today, less like he is an alien that is new to Earth.
“Get on your knees, I’m going to wash your hair out in the tub.” You get the shampoo and conditioner ready as you start the water. Erik gets down leaning his head over, looking back at you curiously.
“Don’t worry, I won’t drown you.” You say as you guide his head under the lukewarm water. You watch dirt remnants go down the drain as you massage his scalp gently. You feel his back relax under your arm as he enjoys the attention.
“Mmmm.” Erik groans.
“That’s nice huh? Don’t get used to it, you say, jabbing him in his side playfully. Erik flips his head back, splashing lather and water all over you.
You jump, only able to stare at him in awe. “You have to be kidding me. ERIK!” You splash him with water back. “Now I’m drowning your ass, put your head back down!”
Erik wouldn’t comply. Instead he picks you up and holds your entire body in the stream of the water, before letting you go to run away.
“Erik! Gatdammit!” You turn off the water, stepping out of the shower damp. You were down for playing but he was too rough! You change your clothes and go sit on the couch to watch some shows. Erik went outside and came peeking through the front door.
“You either in or you out, boy. Don’t matter to me none!”
Erik comes inside. “And don’t sit on my couch with a wet head, go rinse your own damn hair!”
Erik kisses his teeth. “Ohhh, and you gettin smart! Walk your ass on somewhere then, I don’t really care! You got one more time, try me! Nobody playin!”
Erik gives you that annoyed glare but skulks to the bathroom, running water.
When he comes out, he’s got a towel on his head and products on his hands. Your feet are propped on the table, which he moves from under you without regard.
“Erik, what’re you doing?” He sits in front of your legs, backing up into you. “Uh, uh. You don’t want me to do shit for you, cuz you wanna play. I ain’t playin right now!”
Erik leans his head back looking up at you, eyes all wide, jaw tight.
You roll your eyes, smacking the side of his face gently. “Aight then, get up.” You part your legs for Erik to squeeze between. He was so wide, it was a bit of a problem. But you start to get to work.
Drying his hair a little more, you get to talking to him. “My name is (Y/N), by the way. I know you can’t talk yet, or ever, but...that’s my name.”
Erik nods slightly, giving a grunt of approval.
While you twist him up, you figure you can ask him a few yes or no questions. “Erik, do you think you are alive?”
Erik reaches his hand out for you, taking your hand and placing it against his chest. You couldn’t feel a heartbeat, and checking the area near his jugular confirms that.
“Wow, do you feel dead?”
Erik shrugs.
“Do you remember dying?”
Erik is still for a moment before he nods slightly.
“Yeah, I remember hearing about it. I wasn’t completely mad about you, just mad for you. It wasn’t fair the hand you were dealt, but you got a little outta hand. Like, not too long ago even.” You say referring to the OGs he choked up in the parking lot and the car he destroyed.
You couldn’t see his face but you felt an eye roll from him. “Come on, Erik. You said your were gonna kill any and everybody who stood in the way of your plans. You can’t make those kinds of declarations and come out smelling like roses. Shit’s dirty man.”
Erik holds his hand up, moving his hand like it's talking. “Uh, you want me to shut up? Please, you not listening is what did you in. You shoulda been talkin to people instead of being led by a blind fury. Mayne you not talkin now is a poetic justice.”
You finish up his hair and leave him to admire your work in the mirror. Just then your phone gets a text. It’s the guy from your situationship.
You freeze, not sure what the hell to do. You go to the box of his crap in the corner and go to get it. “Uhh, Erik. Imma need you to stay here again, ok! I’m going out again.”
Erik steps from the mirror, looking at you with a hand on his stomach. “Oh, uh, I-I’ll pick up something. Then we gotta talk-- or, whatever. Cuz we gotta figure out what to do with you. You look more presentable so maybe we can figure out how to get you somewhere to be or work or somethin.” You rush out the door as your mind was focused on other things, leaving Erik to his own devices.
You pull up to his spot, sitting for a second to collect yourself before getting out. Box in hand, you go to knock.
He opens the door, still looking like how you left him. A handsome pain in your ass.
“I figure you wanted this stuff back too, since we talkin now.” You say, shoving the box in his arms.
He looks you up and down, scoffing. “Oh, miss thing got a backbone? Or somethin stuck up your ass, one.”
“Ty, I ain’t tryna hear it from you, ok? You breadcrumb the shit outta me and then dip. Now you got somethin to tell me, so what the fuck is it?”
He puts the box down before leaning on the doorframe. “I wanted to see you, just one more time.”
“So you officially through with me? That’s funny cuz I been done with you! No problems to my name!” You say, boldface lying.
“Nah, I figure you wouldn’t even want to deal with me no more. I treated you shitty, I get that but I couldn’t handle a good woman. I just didn’t know your were until I didn’t have you.”
You fold your arms, your anger beginning to falter. “Yeah, cuz you...you ain’t shit, Ty.”
“That’s what happens when you take ‘the’ out of it. You were my meaning, without you, I’m shit. You my ‘the’.”
You hated him. You couldn’t stand that pretty face talking with that pretty mouth giving you that sexy stare. Before you knew it, you were on top of him, making out on his couch. You felt sick, but he wanted you, he said so. This didn’t have to be the end, you all can start anew since it is sure that both of you want a real thing.
His phone rings as you reach for his belt buckle. “(Y/N), lemme take this real quick.”
You whine, “Come on. I’m ready for you now!”
Ty lifts you off of him before running for his phone.
“Hello? Yeah, no it’s fine. Oh for real? Ok, let me know what the cost is.” He looks at you apologetically. “Oh, wait, baby I don’t wanna talk to her right n-- Hey Mom! Yeah, no your daughter is amazing!” You expression falls flat as you dry up hearing the conversation continue. “Yes she is beautiful. I am lucky to have her for my….future wife.”
This was your cue to get up and get on. You are out the door as he is hanging up. “Baby, come on. It ain’t like it sounds!”
“A WIFE, TY?? You getting married, married? And you were just kissing me on your couch?” You get in your car, and he leans talking through your window. “Aww, now don’t be like that. You’re my meaning, remember! My the!”
You stare at him through your window, seething. “Get THE fuck off my car.” You peel off, hoping you got his feet.
You pull up to your place, feeling worse for wear, seeing Erik sitting on the stairs reminded you that he needed to eat.
YOu curse under your breath as you walk past him inside. I’m making you something. I don’t feel like going out again.” YOu go in the kitchen, banging pots around, opening a soup can. YOu try opening it with the can opener but it's no good. The can is only halfway open before you give up and try shaking the contents out in a pot but half of it splatter on the counter.
“AGGGHH!! I’m tired of niggas! If I’m not taking care of them, they are fucking me over, there is no inbetween.”
Erik comes up to you placing a hand on your shoulder. “No, Erik! This ain’t the time! I’m trying to be nice, but I can’t see the point! What am I supposed to do with you? Huh? YOu weren’t supposed to be here, I was playing around! I was bored and heartbroke! What do I need with a damn zombie!” You take a pot and send it clattering in the sink as you lean on the sink. “I can’t deal with anymore of this, I just want to be left alone. I’m tired.”
You hear the front door open and close shut. You look back and Erik is gone. He thinks this is better, but now you’ll have to wonder where he is until he returns. You look at the mess on the floor, and reach for your paper towels. You open the door too quickly and expect to have to catch it but it sits perfectly on its hinge. You survey that there are crew placed correctly in the door, fixing the mess that it was. You’re confused only for a moment before you realize it was Erik’s doing.
Great, you thought. Now I really gotta find him.
In your car, you drive around just trying to be vigilant and look around to see where he would be. He wasn’t walking the neighborhood, he wasn’t at the gas station. A thought crossed your mind that you didn’t like, but you figured it was crazy enough to work.
You get to the cemetery, luckily it's daylight this time and see him sitting down. You pull up and get out of the car with a bag of food. You take a seat next to him, pulling a burger out of the bag, but he doesn’t take it. You unwrap it and take a bite. Y’all stare at his headstone and the whole he crawled out of a moment.
“Erik, I didn’t mean….”
Erik doesn’t look at you or interject. Not like he could.
“...I didn’t mean all of what I said. Now, if the truth is what you want though, I didn’t ask for you to come into my life.”
Erik looks at you with a stank look. “Come on, I was just playing around! I didn’t know this shit was real! But, dang, this is hard. I don’t want to leave you on the street, I wouldn’t do that. You had a soft spot in my heart before because I got your story, you just went about it the wrong way.”
You grab his arm to pull his attention away from the grave. “I don’t want you back there, I really don’t. I could put a couple different people in there before I think about sending you back. I couldn’t if I wanted to, and I’m not. Erik, I don’t know what’s happening in your head, but I’m sorry for what I said that may have brought you here. You are getting a second chance, this could be something special.”
Erik looks at you, taking you by the shoulder to look at you intently. “I’m fine. Just nigga troubles. The guy whose clothes you’re wearing called me and I thought we were being a thing again, but nah. He gettin married. God bless the union.”
Erik nods, biting his lip and looking away. “You wanna get outta here though? Now I got somethin for us, we should be good til tomorrow, then I can get some food in my fridge.”
You and Erik enjoy the evening watching shows and winding down from the day.
“Ohm and thank you for fixing my cabinet door! That was bothering me for weeks, and now I can confidently retrieve my paper towels.”
Erik smiled, probably the most genuine one he has given you, dimples unyielding. “Maybe you can fix my car door next, with ya heavy handed ass.” You stick your tongue out at him.
Joining him on the couch again you start to drift to sleep, leaning on Erik’s shoulder. It was nice to have someone to snuggle up to, even though he had no pulse, he wasn’t cold or stiff. He just was him, with no heart. So, himself.
Your eyes flutter awake as something caresses your face. You peer up to see Erik’s hand combing back your curls with his fingers. “Come on, lemme sleep.” Erik keeps caressing your face, planting a kiss on top of your head. You look up at him suspiciously. “Uh, ok. With that, I think I’ll go to my room tonight.”
There was no way in hell you could go through life having fucked around with a corpse. Could he even do shit anyway? Day by day, he is less of a toddler acting dude and more of the man he once was, but he was still mute and not alive!
You get up to go to your room, looking back at him as you open the door to go inside. You leave the door open a crack, in case of anything and try to forget what’s happened. Erik was still Erik, dead or alive, but there was no way, not on God’s green Earth.
You lay in bed a moment, facing away from the door. You close your eyes praying for sleep but you were suddenly wide awake and anxious. You hear the door creak open.
“Erik, I don’t know, I just want to sleep so--” The bed creaks as his weight slides next to yours. You turn to face him.
“You don’t sleep remember? So there is no reason to be here.” You say authoritatively. Erik is looking you dead in the eye. His hand rises to rest on your hip, more innocently than anything. “Are you still checking that I am ok?” Erik nods. “You don’t have to be sorry or anything, we are good. I’ve gotten used to having you around and I mean, it’s nice or whatever. A nigga that can’t talk back.”
Erik smirks at your aside, rubbing your hip, firmly. You feel yourself gettin tight between your legs so you adjust, while at the same time scooching closer to Erik, who pulls you into him. It didn’t take long for your lips to meet his, and the answer to your previous inquiry begins to poke your thigh.
Kissing him felt so good to you, it really made you forget most of the logistics behind what was about to happen. You roll yourself on top of him to straddle, taking off your shirt and helping him out of his. You felt so many questions lingering on your lips that could keep you from going further, but they hushed when he kissed your breasts. Your head leans back as he gently licks your nipples, massaging your back, turning you into puddy in his hands. You run your hands through his freshened locs as he hums into your areola, flipping you on your back. As he takes down his tenting sweatpants, you pull off your bottoms hoping this is worth whatever natural laws you may be breaking.
Everything about him was perfection, from his scars to his muscles to his roaring erection. No one would believe he was in a grave just a couple days ago. Maybe you could make this work, maybe he could stick around a while…
Erik’s eyes were dark with lust as he sized up your opening with his tip. You bring his gaze to your face.
“Don’t go too fast, ok? Keep it slow…” You say instructively. If he needed coaching on bathing himself, you weren’t risking the destruction of your walls to his enthusiastic ignorance.
Erik nods as he keeps his gaze upon you, you feel obligated to not look away so you can keep focus on him not obliterating your pelvis. As you feel him enter, your mouth flops open as you wince. Erik stops from your reaction, holding his breath trying not to hurt you.
You squeeze his shoulders encouragingly. “It’s alright, go ahead. I’ll tell you to stop otherwise.” You really didn’t want this to be whack or painful, this was the guy of your dreams come back to life. A sex God of your fantasies, but it’s like you’re dealing with a virgin from outer space.
Erik pushes further into you, increasing your discomfort but once settled in, you could feel yourself becoming accustomed. You nod, allowing Erik to begin to move inside you slowly. The pace was good enough to make the pain go away but now you needed more.
“Faster, Erik, just a little.”
Erik bites his lips to pick up his pacing, finally you feel waves of pleasure building.
“Mhm, deeper, please.” You moan as you bring your hand down to stimulate your clit. Erik brings your legs back to oblige your request, grunting as he felt you tightening around him.
“Ahh, that’s it. Oh, that’s good, keep going Erik!” You encourage him as you climax under his strokes. Erik seems to get the hang of it as his grip digs into your thighs, mixing the depth of his strokes at an angle to relieve your G spot.
“Ohh, come on, Erik. My pussy so wet, show me it’s yours!” You whine, grabbing the pillow behind your head as you run your hand down his studded chest and abdomen.
Erik lays on top of you, grinding his hips against you, putting all of himself into you while hitting your clit just right. His breath on your neck couple with his primal growls made you lock him into place, calling out his name without regard until he suddenly pulled from you. Stroking himself over you, the amount of seed that left him was so much, you thought surely he would die of dehydration. There should not have been any liquid left in him after how hard he came, your stomach, breasts, even up to your neck was covered in his cum. He made a whole glazed donut out of you.
“Damn, Erik! Is it like that?” you say, touching it lightly, contemplating the clean up of your situation.
Erik breathed out heavily, a little too heavy, as he lied down with a thud, eyes fluttering closed.
You spring up, alarmed. “Erik….Erik?”
He laid there motionless. He already had no pulse so no use in checking that. Did he die die? You smack him and shake him but he doesn’t stir.
Getting out of the shower, you peek slowly to see him still knocked out, you laid a sheet over him for decency. You shake your fists at the ceiling, arguing with God about how your behavior warranted this outcome. Going into the living room, you pull up the website you got the resurrection spell from to see if there was a wear off period. If you had known that, you would’ve let him wander around after he hopped out that grave instead of taking him home.
Zzzzzz…
You look towards your bedroom, alarmed by the noise. Zzzz… Was he...snoring? yOu get up and peek inside to see. He was definitely snoring, loud as hell, but you breathe out thanking God you hadn’t killed him again. You go in, sitting on the bed again, laying a hand over his nose to feel him breath. Laying a hand on his chest, you feel a familiar flutter that nearly took you out. His pulse was racing, renewed within himself, you couldn’t fathom what was going on. So he was now alive? A living, breathing being? Could he talk now?
You decide not to wake him but come morning, you would be ready to go over his state of being. Going back to the living room you research on your laptop, coming up with nothing more until you passed out for the evening.
When the sun wakes you the next morning, you stretch feeling work out and exhausted despite the full night’s rest. You feel sore and become worried until you forget the abominable act of last night. Holding your head, you moan in shame thinking of how many ways you could be considered an insane sex maniac. You let out a heavy sigh as you walk to your bedroom to finish what your research of your newly livened friend, but the bed was bare of his presence. You cursed under your breath as you looked out a window, checked the bathroom, before going out the front door.
You find his at your car door, using some device to pop the dent out of it. You stomp over to him. “Erik! You can’t disappear like that, I thought that was clear! Are you alright? You passed out after...you know.”
Erik looks up to you, standing up, putting a hand to your hip. You swipe it away.
“That’s what started shit before, don’t think it’s happening again! Besides that though, I touched you and felt something I didn’t think was possible.” Erik made a face suggestively. “No, your heartbeat! I felt it. You know what I mean.”
Erik puts a hand to his chest to feel for himself, nodding.
“Yeah, it’s crazy. I thought I killed you, but then your heart started again. Like, you’re alive again, right now! So I actually brought you to life twice! Haha, nuts!” You laugh awkwardly over sirens in the distance as Erik stands there looking at you with a raised eyebrow. “This would be so much funnier if you could talk though. Which reminds me, where the hell did you get that thing to take the dent out of my car?”
The sirens get closer as a cop car pulls in front of your house. Two cops come out with guns drawn.
“Don’t move! Sir get on the ground with your hands up!”
Erik’s eyes widen as he steps in front of you. You peer over his shoulders. “Officers, you must have something wrong. What’s goin on?”
“This guy was seen stealing equipment from an auto body shop a few blocks from here. He is under arrest for trespassing, breaking and entering, burglary, and if he doesn’t comply now, a lot more.”
You touch Erik’s back. “You stole that?? Erik, you shouldn’t have left without telling me, I would’ve told you not to worry about it!”
Erik turns around to face you.
“I said hands on the ground!” The officer says loudly.
Erik looks in your eyes, searching your face for something to say, if only he could. You could barely make it out but once he opened his mouth you could recognize his words. “(Y/N)....”
A gunshot rang through the air, making you both jump as one of the officers fired, presumably in the air. Erik bolts behind your house to the backyard, cops following suit.
“Erik! Stop! You can’t do this!” You yell running after them. You hear them going through some of the wooded parts, opting to stay out of it, yelling his name for him to give up or come back. He really messed up now. They would be looking for him now that he was on the run, and finding him at your house leaves you open to surveillance. Going back to the front door of your house you look back at your fixed car door, saddened that the dent was gone to remember him by.
“Miss, you’d better come with me.” One of the cops come back with his gun drawn on you.
You raise your hands slowly, trying to remain calm. “For what?”
He shrugs, “Harboring a fugitive, aiding and abetting. Conspiracy to commit robbery, I can make some shit up. But you being with him, makes you a suspect all the same. Now get in the car.”
You blink your eyes to keep from crying out right as you walk slowly to the back fo the squad car. He pushes your head in as you duck in and slams the door on you. When he gets in, his partner comes through huffing and puffing.
“Can you believe that Black bastard running like that? We’ll find him, no problem. Sticks out like a sore thumb.”
They drive off with you, chatting about Erik and putting out his description on the radio. “Your boyfriend is in a whole hell a lot of trouble, so when we get you to the station, just follow our instructions, let us know what he’s done, where he might be, and let us do our job.” Your eyes well up as you shake your head. There was nothing you could add to the situation, and even if you did you wouldn’t help them! You look aimlessly out the window watching the trees zip by, hoping Erik has found a path far from where you are now.
Just then the car comes to a screeching halt as you are flung forward, hitting the partition with a thud.
“What the hell...It’s him! Carl, call back up!” The officer exclaims as he gets out the car. Carl calls back up as you look to see Erik in full on rage as he stares down the officer with his taser out. The officer says something but you can’t hear and Erik doesn’t look up for talking. The cop deploys the taser, making Erik wince and twist under the shocks. The officer approaches him as Carl steps out the car, and suddenly Erik has him by the throat and hoisted in the air. Carl moves quicker now as he gets his gun out. Erik doesn’t miss a beat, tossing his partner at him, sending them toppling over the side of the road, down to a ravine.
You watch all of this wailing for Erik to stop as you try to get out the car in vain. You beat on the window when Erik stomps towards them again, snapping him out of his angered trance. He goes to your side of the car, pulling the door open like a chicken bone. You crawl out, jumping into his arms.
“Erik, you gotta go, now! There will be more and you can’t fight them all, they’ll kill you.”
“I’ll...die….then.” Erik strains from his voice. You look at him incredulously.
“No. you will not! You did enough of that already! You will go back to my house right now and we will go somewhere, anywhere but here to save you!”
You get into the squad car to drive back to your place, trying to hatch a plan along the way. When you arrive, you run out of the car towards your door, trying to ignore the sirens coming. Erik gets you by the arm, pulling you to him. “There’s no time Erik, we gotta go! I just need my wallet and some clothes, and-”
“Don’t...I’ll run.” Erik says slowly.
You shake your head. “Where? Where could you possibly go with no ID, money, or people you know? You’re still dead according to your tombstone.”
The sirens get closer, sounding just a couple blocks away now. Erik walks away from you, heading for the road. “I’ll...find you….(Y/N).”
Your vision blurs as you get emotional again. “Don’t worry about me, just go! I can’t see you die again, just get out!”
Erik nods running down the road and heading for the wilderness along the road again. When cops arrive, they question you, but you’re of little help. You don’t know how this happened, who he was, or where he went. That didn’t stop them from canvassing the place and watching you for the next month to track his whereabouts.
One night, when all the searching died down, you took a turn down the road you traveled once before, heading to his tombstone for old times sake. You hadn’t heard from Erik in a couple months, but you figured he got away with it so far since the news hadn’t shared any updates. Looking at his spot in the ground, the earth has been filled again, grass filling in sparsely. Kneeling in the grass, you pull out a small $2 shot of Hennessy and pour a little out for him.
“Can you believe I miss your raggedy ass right now? I came here because the first time when I woke you cuz I missed dick, but now I just miss you and...I just hope you alright.” You sit in the stillness of the cemetery a moment. “I don’t know how to contact you, so I just brought myself to here for a symbolic talk is all. Got a pizza waiting for me in the car so I shouldn’t let that get cold, huh? Ugh, this was stupid right?” You get up sighing over the non-closure closure of your situation.
BEEP BEEP BEEP
Your car alarm goes crazy when you look over where it’s parked, you fumble with your keys to turn it off. A shadow passes over the headlights making you freeze in place. The figure reappears, stepping into the light, looking worse for wear but alive nonetheless.
“Pizza?” He asks.
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