#he walked away. kept calling her dead and a corpse and gone | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ythankucaptainmccoy · 6 months

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CoD: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader - Found

I felt inspired to write this today after being fired from my job that I put my heart and soul into for nine years. I don’t know why but all of the sudden I was like I’m going to do this. So here is the finished version of what I saw in my head. I hope you all like it and my inbox is open for asks or requests right now. I’m stuck on CoD men at the moment. This one will be featuring König as well.

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It was late when Ghost woke up with a start as he came out of his nightmare. He had been having the same nightmare for the past week after (Y/N) had gone missing. It was a standard mission of retrieval, but when he had taken a round in the leg Soap had to help him walk. That was when she had split from them to draw the enemy away. When they made it to the evac site she didn’t arrive.

Ghost was adamant that they wait, but Soap had convinced him they should go and that she would be okay. He slowly got up and made his way to the kitchen going through the motions of making his night time tea. As the kettle was placed on the stove he could still see her eyes and the worry in them when she made the decision to draw the enemy away. How he had begged with his own eyes for her to stay.

It was the last time he would probably see her again, and that thought alone reminded him of his mother and brother's family’s murder. The thought of her dead and discarded made him suck in a breath as he felt the panic rising. (Y/N) would know what to do when he had a panic attack, but she wasn’t here. She wasn’t here because he wasn’t man enough to beg her to come with them, and that he couldn’t do this without her.

The screaming in his head was getting louder, and his chest felt like it was constricting. This attack was getting worse by the moment as he imagined her corpse coming towards him wailing at him. He jumped and fell backwards onto his ass scrambling for his knife. He held it in front of him shakily until his vision and hearing started coming back to him. “Simon drop the knife no one's gonna hurt ya’ here”, a voice he should know soothed.

The voice started getting more recognizable, but he was still trying to get his bearings. Then he recognized Price, the old man was holding up both hands when Ghost realized what was happening. He dropped the knife as if it had burned him and listened as Price talked him down. The wailing he thought was her was the kettle going off, and the panic attack had played with his mind.

After he had come back around Price had him sit at the table as he made the tea. Price was telling him that Kortac had a lead on (Y/N), and that König had volunteered to go retrieve her. That would make sense as (Y/N) and König had been good friends back before she joined 141. He nodded along as he listened to Price talk about how they coudn’t go in, and that's why Kortac had taken the job.

After Price had made sure he was going to be okay he went back to his room to try and get more sleep. He rolled over several times trying to get himself to sleep, but it wouldn’t happen. He got up and went out for a walk around the base noticing all the spots he and (Y/N) would go to be alone. His favorite spot was the sniper training tower where they had had sex the first time.

She had been angry about Soap getting the better of her on sniping and he volunteered himself to help her. They had been dancing around each other for a year when he finally made the first move which led to them shagging in that tower. He smiled remembering how she had moaned and called his real name. How she writhed under him and how afterwards she lay there in his arms until Soap had called up making mentions of how no more shots had been fired.

His smile quickly fell as he thought about how she may never come home. He kept walking, coming to the mess hall where he remembered her taking a ketchup packet hitting it just right to make it explode in Soap’s face and how they had all laughed. She was the light to his darkness and no matter what, she was always in a good mood until someone made a joke about how she should be home in the kitchen. He made his way back to his room praying Kortac could find her and bring her home to him.

***MEANWHILE IN SOME RANDOM ASS DESERT***

It was a hot afternoon and (Y/N) was trying to stay alive in a hostile environment. She had been captured right after Ghost and Soap had made their safe extract, but escaped and made it into the desert outside of the major city. She had to wait for nightfall before she could go into the city to steal some food or anything else she may need. To be honest she missed them, but there was no way she could get word to her team without possibly compromising them.

(Y/N) missed being on base, missed the others, but she truly missed Simon. She wanted to be at base sneaking into his room or him into hers to help each other sleep. She thought back on the first time she had sex with him in that sniper tower, and how he had her writhing and moaning. (Y/N) wanted to lay her head on his chest and relax because she knew that right now he would be having a hard time sleeping.

The sun slowly set and soon she would be making her move. She needed more water so her first stop would be the well at the edge of the city. Then she needed to get food and more bandages. (Y/N) knew where she could get the bandages, the food was going to be tricky. She started making her way towards the city. She checked with her binoculars to see the well only to find it guarded.

“Shit they got wise”, she murmured. Well she would have to sit and wait to see if they would leave or stay. It got dark and they stayed, making her decide to go back to her small encampment. It was far enough away to get a fire going. If she didn’t die of dehydration the night would certainly make her freeze to death. She sat at the encampment praying that she could go into the city the next night to scavenge.

The night passed by and (Y/N) tried to find shade in the small dilapidated stable. It was where she would sleep during the day. Her stomach kept waking her up as it cried for sustenance, but she didn’t have anything to satiate it. If and when she made it home she was going off base to her favorite pub to have a burger and good bourbon. If Gaz and Soap were here they would at least be cracking jokes and trying to cheer her up. She fell asleep again and didn’t wake until right before sunset. She got up and started the walk back towards the city.

The city seemed clear as far as She could tell. The men who had been guarding the well weren’t there now. (Y/N) watched for a couple more minutes just to be sure, and once sure she raced to the well. The water rippled when she bent down cupping her hands, and sucking down water. She drank until her stomach started to cramp. Once her thirst was quenched she darted from alley to alley until she reached a drug store.

(Y/N) knew that the back store room didn’t lock because she was the one who had broken it the first time she broke in. Under the cover of darkness she slipped in and scoured the shelves grabbing what she needed and filled her pack even taking some bottled waters. She made her way to the back pharmacy where the locked door was, but couldn’t get in. The fridge back there had to have some penicillin which she could use, but she would just have to go without.

She slipped back out into the alley and started taking note of where she needed to head next. There was a market a couple streets over that sold some raw meats. Some of the shops would be closing up so she had to be quick. She made her way to the markets, but they were all closed. They must have had them close up to keep her options limited.

There was nothing left, not even scraps that she could pick from. This was a failure, but she had to move on. Just as she started back the way she had come from a truck pulled up across the street and armed men climbed out. “Shit shit shit”, (Y/N) cursed. She was going to have to be careful making her way back to her camp unless she wanted to be captured again or worse.

She rounded the last corner when she saw a man looking in her direction. She ducked back into the alley, but he had already alerted his comrades to her position. When the man rounded the corner she ducked down and went for his legs making him fall over her. He dropped his rifle and they rolled in the alley trying to get to it. She could hear the other men approaching when she finally headbutted the man.

(Y/N) scooped up the rifle and fired a round into the man's skull. She encountered two more men that she quickly dispatched. There was another truck still running, and seeing her opportunity she took it. She hopped into the driver's side and tore out of the city as fast as she could. There was no way she could stay near the city now that they were certain she was there. She continued on for several miles hoping to come across a small village.

There was no such luck, and she was starting to get tired. When she looked at the truck's dash she saw that it was around five in the morning. She continued for a short amount of time when she saw a small house in the distance. The road had disappeared a long time ago and hopefully this small house was unoccupied. When she pulled up she shut the truck off, and grabbed the rifle.

After clearing the house it was in fact abandoned. It wasn’t all that dilapidated and the bed looked inviting, but her paranoid brain wouldn’t let her sleep there. She took the cushions on the old couch downstairs, and took them to the pantry that unfortunately was empty and placed them on the floor. She drank some water as she grabbed an old curtain covering a doorway and put it in the old pantry on top of the couch cushions then placed the backpack in the far back.

(Y/N) watched the sun rise as she checked on her wound. It needed new bandaging, and she wrapped it with the bandages she had taken. The wound seemed to be festering as it oozed some. Once it was wrapped she went back inside to crawl into the pantry closing the door behind her. She lay her head on the backpack and pulled the curtain over her like a blanket keeping the rifle beside her just in case. The hunger pains were growing, but there was nothing she could do as she slipped off into sleep.

Little did she know that a friend of hers was looking for her in the city she just fled. She woke a few hours later, shivering. She knew she had a fever since she was shivering and it was the hottest part of the day. She lifted her shirt and unwrapped the bandages to see the wound was red around the edges. It also had some discharge and she knew that it wasn’t a good sign. (Y/N) knew she was more likely to die of infection at this point.

She should have broken into the pharmacy for the penicillin after all. She pulled the makeshift blanket higher and relaxed back in her makeshift mattress. Sleep came easy as her fever got worse. Mumbling in her sleep as the fever continued to ravage her body. A noise and her eyes slowly and lazily fluttered open. It had to be a hallucination she definitely didn’t hear footsteps through the house.

The footsteps were going all around the house, but then they started towards her hiding place. She sat up with a lot of effort that had her breathing heavily, and grabbed the rifle. Lifting it made pain sear through her, and she had just pointed at the door where the footsteps stopped. She held the rifle up as she listened for the person to walk away, but her body gave out causing her to drop the rifle.

The clattering and her gasp from the pain had the stranger on the other side almost ripping the door off its hinges. She reached for the rifle again, but the stranger was quicker and stepped on it as she tried to pull it from the floor. Pain erupted in her body as the adrenaline left her and weakness hit her like a truck. She collapsed backward as her world spun and started to darken. She tried to keep the darkness at bay, but it consumed her.

(Y/N) started to come around as something cool touched her brow. When she opened her eyes she could see someone with their back turned toward her. One small lantern sat in the corner set on the dimmest setting. She had to get out of here not knowing what this person had planned for her, but when she went to move her strength was almost non-existent and let out a groan. The stranger whipped around and quickly shone a bright light into each eye.

(Y/N) tried to focus her eyes as the figure started talking in a language that sounded familiar, but quickly switched to English. Then a name hit her as her vision cleared some more and she could see the blue eyes and sniper hood. “ König?”, she rasped. “Easy Mause you need to rest”, he told her. “How… how did you find me?”, she coughed. “Your new friends asked me to come fetch you, but you are not fit for travel, and I don’t want to risk you dying on the trip to the extraction zone”, he relayed.

“We should move now” she told him. “No Mause you have had a high grade fever and you need to rest. Not to mention you have stopped breathing on me twice already to the point of needing resuscitation”, he argued. “I feel… fine”, she said, sitting up with a harsh wince. “No Mause I thi…”, König didn’t get to finish as she got up and walked out of the tent. He quickly followed as she walked towards the truck he had hidden under a desert camo tarp.

He watched as she got half way and swayed on her feet then down to her knees. He raced forward sliding to her as her upper body fell sideways. He cradled her against him as he looked her over. She was a ghostly pale color and shaking even though she was sweating. He quickly hauled her up and took her back into the tent where he checked the wound. He changed the bandages and made sure the wound was clean.

When she woke again this time she was alone in the tent, but she could hear König moving around outside. He seemed frantic with his movements so (Y/N) pulled herself up and slowly got out of the tent. “What are you doing?”, she questioned. “I should have listened to your advice last night, Mause. They have some small patrols looking for you”, he relayed as he packed the gear into the truck. She swayed slightly as her strength started waning.

König took notice right away quickly scooping her up and putting her in the passenger seat of the truck. “Stay here while I get the tent put away”, he ordered. She sat and watched the horizon when she noticed a cloud of dust. “König leave the tent there’s a patrol headed straight for us. He whipped up looking in the direction (Y/N) gestured to. He leapt into action running to the driver side while she started the engine. Flooring it caused the truck to lurch forward and (Y/N) groaned.

She watched as König radioed in for extraction and that there were enemies gaining. Confirmation came over the radio back to him as a Pave Low appeared on the horizon. Gunfire whizzed past their heads, but König pressed on. Sliding to a stop he pulled his gun out of the truck returning fire as he yelled at (Y/N) to head for the heli. She was almost there when she heard the grunt and impact of a body falling behind her.

When she turned König was on his back still firing back as he yelled again for her to go. “I’m not leaving you behind damnit!”, she yelled above the heli. She grabbed him and dragged him as pain lit up in her side. She was sweating from the pain as he continued returning fire. She heard the ramp lower and gunfire coming from the ramp. She could feel the blood starting to ooze from the torn stitches. Tunnel vision had started and she could feel her strength fading, but she was so close. She couldn’t do it. She screamed in frustration and pain as she felt the impact of the ground.

Somewhere she could hear a familiar voice as König was yelling at her to leave him. It all happened so fast she saw someone grab König as someone else provided cover fire. Then she felt weightless as her vision wavered. She lifted her head briefly and was met with another masked figure, but those eyes looked so familiar, but why she didn’t know.

The weightlessness left as she was placed on some blankets, but she could still feel the cold metal under her from the heli. She could hear more yelling as she tried to get herself to sit up. She reached out trying to find something to help her when a hand held hers. She felt the heli lurch upwards and away as her vision and head swam trying to make sense of everything.

Then she heard a voice shouting and she knew that voice it was Soap, but he shouldn’t be here then she recognized Nikolai yelling back to him. She wanted to confirm that it was in fact Soap and Nikolai she heard, but she blacked out as she felt her shirt being lifted and heard the fabric being cut. Those deep brown eyes she saw earlier while being carried into the helo followed her into her darkness.

Waking up was a complete bitch if (Y/N) was being honest the bright lights were killing her already pounding head. She took in her surroundings slowly noticing she was in a hospital bed and that there was a man in the hospital bed beside her. He was awake and looking at her with those blue eyes. “Hey Mause”, he whispered. Her eyes went wide as she realized König was maskless.

He was handsome with black hair and those piercing blue eyes. “König your hood”, she gasped. “It’s okay Mause I trust you and your team”, he chuckled. She was about to say something else when she realized something on her other side moved. Her head whipped around to spot Ghost in the chair beside her bed. His shoulders were moving and holy shit was he laughing. “Simon”, she breathed in a whisper.

“Hello love”, he said as he leaned in pulling up the bottom part of his mask. “Simon we have an audience and I haven’t brushed my teeth yet”, she mumbled. “It’s alright love”, he told her as he kissed her hard and rough. This went on for a few minutes until (Y/N) remembered König was trapped in here with them. Ghost went in for another kiss as his hand traveled down her side skipping over her wound. “Ghost! König is here”, she hissed.

“It’s fine love, besides I think he is enjoying the show isn’t that right König?”, Ghost asked. When she looked, König was trying to readjust himself discreetly. “Maybe I should let him join us so we can share you when you're healed hmmm”, Ghost hummed. (Y/N) whimpered, causing Ghost to smirk as he looked at König. “What do you think, König, should I let you share her with me once she is healed to thank you for saving her?”, Ghost questioned. (Y/N) looked over at him with a smirk as he responded, “Once you’re healed Mause then you're ours' '.

The nurses came in to check on both patients while Ghost watched from his chair. He had his woman back and the discussion that he and König had while she was still asleep was coming to fruition. He had known that König was attracted to her when they had worked together before, and (Y/N) had always made mention that she would trust him if they brought another person into the fold. He watched over (Y/N) and König as they both drifted in and out of sleep.

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That's it, I hope you all liked the little twist at the end and maybe I’ll make a part 2 of this with the three of them. Until next time, I hope you all have a lovely day!

#call of duty mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #konig mw2 #injured reader #injured konig

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saphirered · 1 year

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Because i like pain, can i get basically the sunken tomb/those who walk away (tlovm) but it's reader who dies, not vex? She jumps in front of vex as the blast goes off. Can be either Vax or percy x reader.

Turned out to a percy x reader and hope you like the result. Angsty but with a happy ending. 😘

He can’t move. He can’t breathe. His heart has stopped in his chest. Life has ceased to be linear, or perhaps even moving at all. He is stuck in that one doomed moment. He is trapped within his own body with is own bloody mind. He can’t. He can’t. Percy can’t even think or process. He’s stuck in that single image of you. That damned sarcophagus. It looked fine. Everything was fine. Vex gave it a once over. The three of you pushed the top off and there was the deathwalker’s ward still on the corpse of the previous owner. You’d stepped to the end, with Vex. You’d taken to observing the intricate runes on the inside. Vex warned him not to touch but it was too late. He’d reached in and set off a trap. It would have hit her if you hadn’t pushed her aside and in doing so, knocked yourself off balance and into the full force of whatever damned thing hit you.

Some kind of magic struck out, hit you square in the chest and sent you flying like some rag doll. You hit the ground with a sickening smack and crack. That breath, that single exhale that left your body unmoving, that’s where Percy got stuck, watching as the light in your eyes dimmed, those eyes that kept staring at him. They all ran to you but he was stuck. You weren’t moving. You weren’t responding to their calls nor pleas. There was nothing left of you to respond. Once that dawned on him, once it hit him what he had done, had caused, he was left broken. Somehow his legs carried him to your side, where Vax held you in his arms, Vex clutched your hand unable to speak, Pike rushed to heal you but there’s nothing to heal, nothing to be done. You were gone. You are gone. You’re gone.

Things move quickly after. Percy doesn’t know what grace kept him on his feet when he found it within him to join the others. He could not look away from you. Kash had already started whatever ritual he was performing. A resurrection rite. Everything moved so fast. Questions were asked, what happened how did this happen, who was with you? He was but he couldn’t answer. He couldn’t break away from your cold dead eyes. They’ll forever haunt him. They were so full of life just mere moments before when you cracked a joke and smiled, calling him out on his lack of divine worship. He’d retorted with some clever witty remark. Those were the last words he’d spoken to you. He couldn’t even bloody remember them. He can’t even remember your last words.

But then reason hits. It’s not working. The ritual it’s not working. It has to work. It has to work! The Raven Queen, she resides over death and apparently resurrections do not sit well with her or her domain. The others try to suggest things, solutions, but they are not that. Percy finds it within himself to speak some desperate sense; they’re under a lake, where are they going to go? They’re losing time. This has to work now. They can’t give up! He’s begging them, begging anyone, everyone. This can’t be happening! The spell breaks and you’re not moving. Percy’s ears are ringing. He wants to shout and scream and cry but inside him a void begins to grow and leaves him terrified of himself.

Several breaths pass and then, by some miracle, the light returns to your eyes, you shoot up and you’re gasping for air. You’re awake. He’s riddled with guilt once more. You turn to him and stare at him with those damned eyes and while he sees the life in them now, he’s haunted with that blank stare of your corpse.

“What happened?” How is he supposed to answer that question? He was an idiot and should have listened. This is all his fault. He got reckless and greedy and stupid and it cost you your life!

“I touched the armour and you… you were…” He can’t speak the words. The others speak but he does not hear them. “It was an accident.” Why do you keep looking at him. Your eyes should be filled with hatred and anger but you’re not. You’re relieved. You look at him as if this is not all on him. Accident or not, he is still to blame. Luckily distraction comes quickly. The armour is procured and in Vax’s possession for some reason.

You’re back on your feet and a bit wobbly but insist you want to get out of here as much as the others do. Pike has you at first but whether out of habit or sheer guilt, Percy find himself next to you and you lean on him whenever you stumble slightly. He catches you every time you don’t reach for him. It’s definitely a force of habit because each touch is torture. With each touch that scene keeps replaying. Outside on the banks of the lake Vox Machina decides it’s time to take a rest. Everyone’s exhausted and hurt from the fight to get out. Goodbyes are exchanged Zahra and Kash and upon the sunset Percy wanders off on his own. He had the intention of finding Vax, and apologise for what he caused. He did and got punched in the face. Seems that your best friend gave him a smidge of what he deserves. He deserves so much worse but it’s something. But then you have to find him, alone, ass in the snow, processing the pain in his jaw and contemplating every single mistake in his life that could have spared you this fate.

“Percy?” You come up to him. There’s still a slight tremble in your step despite your self-assured expression. No matter how well you might be at hiding your feelings, you always have a tell. You may pretend this doesn’t affect you but he sees it does. That just makes it worse. Still you find it within yourself to try and make him feel better. He wishes you wouldn’t. It’d be easier if you were angry with him, even better if you too decided to take your pound of flesh. Instead you kneel down next to him and look at what must be the mark of his preview to punishment.

“I fell…” He tries a poor excuse but you don’t buy it. Especially not with the extra set of footprints leading away. You place your palm against his cheek. Your touch is cold, he assumes because of the snow but for some reason he cannot help but imagine the worst. Still he leans into your touch.

“Must have been a strange fall. How does one fall on their ass and face simultaneously?” You joke and normally you’d have earned a chuckle or a retort. ‘With great difficulty’ is what you expected him to say or something along those lines but instead you just get silence and downcast eyes that refuse to meet yours. You settle on your knees and bring your other palm to cup his face and lift his gaze to meet yours. Percy bites the inside of his cheek.

“How can you pretend this doesn’t affect you? How can you take this so lightly?” You pull back and fold your hands together to preserve some warmth. Your skin feels wrong, your body feels wrong. Every breath you take you’re suddenly aware of. The blood pumping through your veins, it’s as if you can feel it and it hurts. Everything hurts and you feel as if you’re going to burst any second as if someone could prick you with a needle and suddenly you’d explode. You feel vulnerable and have become so incredibly aware of your mortality, in anything you do, anything you have done; every choice you’ve ever made. It haunts you past, present and future. You don’t know what to do with yourself. You thought of going out into the trees just so scream but that wouldn’t help. You’d just be left with the pain. You thought of ignoring it but that turned on you quickly. You noticed the silence when Percy was around. When you’re near him you feel alive and not some dead person walking. You feel like you can take on this life without being afraid of what happened and what you might face. You feel as if as long as he’s near you’ll be alright. That’w why you came to find him in the first place, didn’t you. You hoped he’d help you see things as they had been before your accident, but that didn’t seem possible.

“Because if I don’t I’ll just be terrified. I’ll break down until there’s nothing left of me and I don’t think I’ll be able to cope. This is all that’s keeping me together. You’re keeping me together.” Those words are harder to speak out loud than you thought, as if speaking them makes them real and undeniable. You suppose that’s true. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat along with your breathing. It just won’t go away and the more you try to ignore it, the worse it gets.

“You died because of me. You shouldn’t even be able to look at me!” There’s so many things running through your head that want to respond to Percy. You manage to stop some of the more irrational ones, the ones you know you’ll regret the moment you speak them.

“Is that what you think you deserve? My anger? My hatred? You won’t get it. Yes, you caused this but it was an accident. That doesn’t make it right but if you are in such desperate need to repent for a mistake, you can do so! I need you, Percy! I need you right now because without you I fear I will fall apart! So please, I’m begging you; do not abandon me now.” You plead. He’s unmoving. You reach out. He doesn’t flinch or turn away. He doesn’t respond so you halt and repeat once more. “Please, Percy. I’m begging you…” You place your hand on his cheek and this time he leans into your palm, even if hesitantly so. You’re about to pull away, seeing that reluctance but before you can his hand clasps over yours and holds it in place.

“I will not ask for your forgiveness-“ You got to speak but he’s not finished yet. “I will not accept it should you offer it to me because I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself. But you’re right. If this is what you want, I’ll do it. I’d hand you the stars on a silver platter if you asked. I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make this right.”

“Percy…” You sigh. That’s not what you meant. You don’t mean to ask for his compliance or service. You ask him to be your friend, your confidant, your rock when the tides get too much in the same way he has always been for you. You’re asking him to be himself, nothing more, nothing less but here he is offering you the world.

“I won’t ask you to accept or turn me away. I will be at your whims for however long you wish me to be-“ Percy keeps going. He has to make this right. You give him a chance to prove himself worthy of you and all you’ve given him. You’ve given him the chance to truly earn your forgiveness in your eyes and his. But you interrupt him by literally placing his palm over his mouth to silence him. Once you make eye contact and you give him a silent ‘are you done’ and he nods you let go.

“Then I order you to stop now.” His heart skips a beat. He cannot breathe. “I don’t need a knight in shining armour or some servant at my beck and call. I just need you. I just need you to be here, now. I don’t need the moon on a string, or you begging on your knees. I don’t need you to fetch me some drink or write me my correspondence. I need you to just be you.” That punch hits far harder than anyone could have dealt. It’s the sheer realisation that his life is more valuable than his actions and choices and deeds. His life exceeds a purpose. It’s a terrifying reality but then he looks at you and sees through you, into your own fear and doubt and he sees, that’s what you need. You need someone who understands fear and pain and he does. Gods he knows he does. That’s why you need him to be here and to be him. That’s why you can look him in the eye. You feel like he’s the only one that truly understands right now because he too, albeit a long time ago came to realise how fragile mortality truly is and all the thoughts that accompany that revelation.

“I know.” He whispers nodding to himself. He reaches out. He wraps his arms around you and holds you close. You allow yourself to twist and mould into his side, tuck under his arm and curl against his chest. This feels real. This is real. You can hear his heartbeat and the rise and fall of his chest with every breath; something you had previously not been aware of nor ever focussed truly focussed on unless it was out of the ordinary. You take a deep ragged breath yourself. You feel cold trail down your cheeks from your eyes and only truly process you’re crying when gloved fingers wipe them away. Percy whispers words of comfort; meaningless he might say but these are the words he had wished he heard when he was alone and suffering. You pull yourself closer to him until the tears subside.

There’s still a long way to go. This does not resolve the issue nor Percy’s guilt. This doesn’t make anything right or change anything. It’s the beginning of a road to a better future you carve out together. Wherever it leads, he will be at your side as long as this world allows. He’ll fight tooth to nail to have it be so. He’ll make this right. But most of all, he’ll be there for you.

#percy de rolo x reader #percival de rolo x reader #vox machina x reader #critical role x reader #legend of vox machina x reader #legend of vox machina #critical role #percy de rolo #percival de rolo #vox machina #tlovm x reader #critical role fanfiction #critical role fanfic

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jacksprostate · 1 month

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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The five days Tyler's stolen my voice from me, I spend watching. The commons, group therapy. I visit my cave with my eyes open. Mills should get used to the cold. I've heard if it drops below 50 while your respiration is this depressed, you go to sleep and never wake up.

Valley of the Dogs.

An orderly with fresh bruises peppering his temple lets me take my walk in the same time Mills is carted around. This is how I must've looked for months. Glazed. Drooling. At this point they probably have to use elephant tranquilizers on me, the tolerance I've built.

God, his petty ass, we meet up for one on one and he says he has to give me some bad news.

No, it's not about Mills.

Tyler, whatever.

He is giving me the bad news, of the passing of one Marla Singer. Everyone seems to think this is bad news. Found dead in her apartment because she didn't pick up any Meals on Wheels for her neighbors for three weeks, and they worried about those little old ladies, up there all starving alone since their angel in black stopped showing up.

Her corpse was found, instead. I imagine it all waxy, tits rotted off just like she said, at some point you're so sick even the bacteria in your gut won't bother decomposing you. I imagine Marla's skin pulling back, fleeing, away from her eyes, her teeth, like a mummy. Dried out as all her collagen rots.

Paper clutched in her hand. A will, sort of hasty and half-assed.

Marla's many worldly possessions all fit on a hotel notepad.

Many other worthless things go to a small number of worthless people Marla has mentioned leaving behind in her life, and god says, Marla Singer has left me something.

That's the entire reason I get to know all of this.

If not, I would've never known.

The world could blow up, and you'd never know in here unless it was in someone's will to tell you.

Marla Singer left me her dildo.

Oh, Marla.

Addressed me in the will half the time as Tyler.

I wonder, did the cancer spread from her tits to her brain, like the cancer I didn't have. It's everywhere now. God says they're working out treatment. I wonder if it matters.

Without Tyler between us, I don't really know what connected me and Marla.

What kept her calling.

I liked her. Another psycho boyfriend in her stories. There will never be another, unless she's gone to Heaven, the real one, and they've got some sort of exchange program going on for her to have fun with.

I think Marla might deserve that. She deserved better than this.

I wonder if it was pills. There was no Tyler to save her, this time. No one to listen to her death rattle. I don't have the voice to ask.

I won't be getting her dildo, because you don't get possessions in a psych ward. It'll get dumped in some other landfill to persist for time immemorial with all the other plastic iconography of our stupid, stupid lives.

Released back out to pasture, I watch Mills. His wife was murdered. Murdered, you see, it's an action, and it's solvable. Mills solved it.

You can't solve the slow death. Not really.

I think about how empty Mills is.

Am I empty?

An unidentifiable amount of time ago, Marla called me again, and she told me all about what happens at the new support groups she goes to, since I ruined the old ones for her. They were willing to rally behind her for the whole blowing my brains out show, and she only would've had to wait them out for six months or so, but she decided to just find new ones. A new church, with new temptations like Living With Angels, a group for those caring for severe dementia patients, and Recovery Road: a program for those trying to rebuild their lives after a loved one blew them up. She said, when I got out, we could both go to that one, and I could talk about Tyler, and she could talk about me, and we could have fun getting kicked out together.

Marla was always talking about that. When I got out.

I wasn't ever hearing any of it.

Mills, they've let up on him, finally, you can see his eyeballs aren't floating with all they've juiced him up on. He's watching me, back.

I wonder if he knows about Marla.

Would Tyler care?

Tyler had said, don't call this love.

Does it need to be?

When I get my voice back, I bury my thoughts on the subject and Marla and everything in a relentless campaign to needle Mills until he looks like a voodoo doll in a shitty tourist trap.

#fight club #my writing #se7en (1995)#se7en #something smth destabilizing parallel event #i always think abt how marlas time is limited. another thing i hate abt chucks sequels. they do what the movie does and just ignore her own #shit??#anyway the narrator doesn't know how to handle this because his little rat ass could barely handle how he felt about marla on a good day #if this seems like it came out of the blue. i alluded to it earlier haha #this is like 3k now and i have 2k notes... oopsie

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sensivs · 10 months

Text

Genya + Sanemi + You

(you never understood why sanemi was so distant from you and genya ever since “the incident”, shouldn’t he be comforting you every second of the day? Like what a REAL brother would do? Your heart slowly shatters as you realize that sanemi isn’t the ‘nemi’ you used to know..)

MAJOR SPOILER WARNING FOR THE INFINITY CASTLE ARC

“Ni ni nemi! Come and get me!” You yelled as you ran through the streets, “y/n stop running! You’re going to fall and I’m not helping you get up!” Sanemi replied.

“Don’t worry aniki I’ll get him” genya said as he then made his way over to you, grabbing you by the back of the shirt and dragging you back over to sanemi, you whined as you were dragged back over to where your older brother was.

Sanemi kept on pushing the cart towards where the market was, your mother had asked you guys to go grab some produce before it became sundown while she was gone.

You skipped happily through the streets, happy to just be in the presence of your big brothers.

You slept soundly along with the rest of your siblings. The night had finally fell and the moon rose to the tippy top of the sky.

“Mom is late..” You heard genya say in a hushed tone, trying to not wake the rest of his siblings up, a light pause stretched for about 2 seconds before sanemi replied “genya, you can’t sleep?” Sanemi asked before adding onto his sentence.

“I’m gonna go look for mom” you heard the rustle of your older getting up from his futon. “Wait, let me come with you” genya replied, “no, I’ll go alone. You must stay at home”.

“Ah- but aniki-“ sanemi then stopped genya, “you have to stay here, didn’t you promise me?” Genya paused for a bit before sitting back on his futon.

He let out a quick “hm”, sanemi smiled before walking out of the house, on his search for his mom. A little giggle caught genya’s attention. He looked over to the row of his other siblings.

“Big brother” the row of siblings all said after one another, “geez everyone’s awake huh?” Genya chuckled as he went to go turn on the light.

So there you all were, sitting around/looking out the window, wondering where your mother could be.

You turned your attention to the door, a dark figure sluggishly dragged itself to the front of the sliding door, “look it’s mom!” One of your siblings called out.

You were about to get up and greet mom but something in your gut shoved you back down next to genya.

“wait! That might not be mom!” just as those words left genya’s mouth, the sight of glass and blood splattered everywhere filled the entire room.

A dark, petite body hunched over in a dark corner, her features darkened by the shadows. She then launched herself towards to both you and genya. But before she could grab you both, sanemi ran into the women, slamming her against the wall enough to break open an entirely new hole in the already destroyed home.

Every thing happened so fast that both you and genya were petrified in place, tears running down both you and your older brother’s face. You both quickly snapped out of your trance and started to try to get everyone up, but to no avail.

“We have to follow aniki (n/n)!” You nodded and got up, taking genya’s hand into yours as you stepped over the shattered pieces of glass littered across the floor. You both started bolting up the hill to where the town was.

The sun rose steadily, taking its sweet time to finally make its appearance. Just as you both reached the top of the hill, you saw sanemi looming over the dead corpse of your mother.

“NEMI!” You screamed as you then ran into the arms of your older brother, crying into his blood soaked clothes. Genya steadily dragged himself towards your mothers body before collapsing onto his knees and bawling his eyes out, holding her close to him as she slowly began to crumble away.

“MOM!! MOM!!” Genya yelled loudly, probably loud enough to hear below the hill, “WHY’D YOU DO IT?! YOU MURDERER” you were taken aback by genya’s choice of words, “it wasn’t his fault genya-!” “SHUT UP (N/N)!! YOU ALWAYS TAKE NEMI’S SIDE NO MATTER WHAT!!!”

Tears bundled up into your eyes, catching onto sanemi’s clothes, you felt arms wrap around you as droplets of water fell onto your head. You looked up to see sanemi’s still-in-shock face but with tears bubbling up in his eyes.

That scene was carved into your mind at this point, never failing to make you cry every time you thought of it. After that day, sanemi kept a far distance from genya, and even after he became a hashira, he still was distant from him.

But he wasn’t that distant from you, instead, you two were seen as brothers more than genya and sanemi. You felt bad for genya, knowing that his twin had a better relationship with his older brother than him.

You walked down the halls of the butterfly estate, you had been in there for a good 3 days and were able to get back out there. Just as you turned the corner, you saw genya walking towards you.

“Genya! I didn’t know you were here!” You we’re very happy to see your brother after your days of hospitalization. Genya looked dead at you, his dark eyes making eye contact with your much lighter ones (you took your mothers eyes while genya took your fathers).

“So.. you’re also just getting out of the butterfly mansion..?” Genya just kept staring at you, not a word leaving his mouth. “Right.. uh.. catch you later..?” You left awkwardly, you could still feel genya’s eyes burning holes onto the back of your head.

﹒⪩⪨﹒

You walked the dark halls of the master’s estate, trying your best to keep your footsteps soft and unheard. You made your way over to your older brothers room, you had some questions to ask him..

You slid his door open and slid it back close once you made your way inside. “..Nemi.. I have.. a question..” you heard sanemi sigh and then a slight rustle.

“Ask away [n/n]” you looked down at your hands that were on your thighs, “why.. don’t you talk to genya anymore..?” You felt sanemi grow tense. The room fell silent, and then he finally spoke, “it’s.. just because I want to keep him safe… I don’t want him to be a demon slayer at all, this job is way too dangerous for a 16 year old”.

“But.. how come you don’t care about the other 16 year old demon slayers..?” “Why should I? They don’t mean anything to me and neither should they to you” sanemi replied rather quickly. As if he anticipated that you would one day ask him that question.

“I understand nemi..” you got up from where you sat and walked back to the door, sliding it just enough for you to slip yourself out of sanemi’s room.

You understood sanemi’s concern for your brother, genya was way more softer than sanemi but he was also more harsher than you so you never saw what the big deal with genya becoming a demon slayer.

﹒⪩⪨﹒

Your breath was more heavy than you last remembered it, you gasped for air as you helplessly lay on the floor. The booming sound of gyomeis flail and axe repeatedly smashing onto the floor and the whooshing sound of the two swords that were battling against each other were the only things you heard.

You groaned as you tried rolling around onto your chest, the wound left by kokushibos sword hurt like nothing you’ve felt before.

You looked around at the depressing sight of muichiro being hung by his own sword on a pillar, you felt so bad for the poor 14 yr old. He shouldn’t be dealing with this at such a young age..

You crawled towards your sword, holding onto the severally shriveled thread of life you you were clinging onto so hard.

You saw muichiro pull his sword out from his shoulder and fall onto the floor, “tokito-san!” You heard genya’s voice call out, the sudden mention of his name made muichiro turn to genyas direction and run over to him.

“Don’t mean to be a bother but could you give my torso a good shove?” “Genya!! You’re alive? Are you going to put your body back together?” “It’s gonna be tough tho” (these are actual words from the manga if you didn’t realize)

“So.. the upper moons hair is over there, can you.. uhh.. get it and help me eat it? I want… to fight til the end. I’ll.. protect aniki and [n/n].. I don’t wanna let him die..” after all this.. genya was still thinking about you and sanemi..?

Muichiro stayed quiet for a few seconds.. “alright.. we’ll fight together to the very end..” you smiled at those words, you were happy at least someone was on genya’s side other than you.

﹒⪩⪨﹒

You leaned on one of the pillars while holding your sword in a stance which said that you were going to attack any second now. You crouched and then jumped to where everyone else was, your jump was powerful enough to project you to hit kokushibos cheek. Leaving a large slash from cheekbone to cheekbone.

Your feet dragged along the polished floor, making a large squeaking noise until you finally came to contact with a pillars base.

You saw bullets from genya’s shotgun being shot at kokushibo, that were then deflected by his sword. In just a second, a tree sprouted from out of no where and trapped kokushibo in a stance on which his sword would crash down on muichiro.

Gyomei and sanemi then closed in on the demon, which then let out a howl of certain death, a sudden gush of moons from his breathing style were thrown back in retaliation.

You saw through terrified eyes that the hit was strong enough to slice through the tree along with muichiro and.. “GENYA!!” You screamed as you then ran over to him.

Your legs begged you to lay down and forget about your brother but you just couldn’t. You cried out genya’s name multiple times as he fell down, in two separate halves.

“GENYA PLEASE, REGENERATE YOURSELF!!” You then tried to push both parts of genya together to make him regenerate, but it didn’t work. “[n-]… [n]..” genya started.

“Y..ou were… t..he b..est.. b..ro..th..er t…o.. ever….exi..st..” you saw that tears were then pouring out of genya’s eyes like a waterfall. “im.. s..o..rry.. f..or.. b…eing.. su..ch.. an.. ass..hole.. t..o..you…… y..your.. e..very..th..ing.. I.. wo..uld.. w..ant.. in.. a.. l..i..tt..le.. br..other..” you sobbed so loud that you didn’t even realize the battle was won.

Himejima then ran to the both of you, “himejima-san! Are you three alright?!” You cried, “we’re alive, it’s okay” Gyomei spoke as he patted your shoulder. “Toki..tou……..toki..tou..” genya spoke, you saw gyomei turn his head to muichiro’s direction, his poor sliced body was laying there, unresponsive.

“Don’t… mind… me…… tokito-san.. treat him.. hurry” genya croaked out, gyomei nodded. But just before he went over to muichiro, he dragged sanemi’s body over to the two of you. Leaving his unconscious body in your care.

Sanemi’s eyes slowly opened, meeting your tear filled eyes, “m..mom..?” “It’s me sanemi..” you chuckles lightly. “Where’s.. genya..?” Your smiled quickly faltered. As your eyes looked down at genya’s poor body.

Sanemi’s eyes grew wide and he let out a loud and painful cry. Grabbing Gyomei’s attention, “WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED HERE!! YOUR BODY.. WHY IS YOUR BODY CRUMBLING LIKE A DEMONS?!” Sanemi then let out another pained cry, “ani..ki…” “DONT WORRY, I’LL DO SOMETHING!! NII-CHAN WILL DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS!!”

you realized that genya’s ear had already crumbled away, “sanemi! He can’t hear you-“ you started off before being cut off by genya’s soft voice. “..ni.. chan…. So..rry”.

“Back..then..I..blamed.. you….. sorry… and.. for.. being.. a burden.. sorry” “YOU WERE NEVER A BURDEN TO ME!!! NOT EVEN ONCE!! DONT DIE!!!! DONT YOU DARE DIE BEFORE ME!!” The scene before your eyes was too much for you and you broke down, grabbing onto genya’s clothes and laying your head on his almost-nonexistent arm.

“Thanks.. for.. protecting.. me..” “I DIDNT PROTECT YOU FOR SHIT!!! YOU MORON!!” Sanemi once again cried out, screaming profanities along with the cry. “You.. were.. trying.. to protect.. me…. And I.. wanted.. to.. protect you.. ni.. chan”.

“We.. feel… the same.. because we’re.. brothers….. you.. had many.. horr..bile.. mem..ories…. I want you.. to not die..”

“Because my nii-chan.. and my otouto.. are..the sweet..est.. people.. in the world…” sanemi grabbed tightly onto genya’s clothes as well, “AAAAGHHHH!! COME ON, GOD!! PLEASE PLEASE!!! DONT TAKE MY BROTHER AWAY!!! PLEASE!!”

“Th..ank… you….. my.. br..others…”

—

Genya’s death absolutely BROKE me 🙁🙁🙁

Also I just wanna put this out there

The reason why genya’s words are so chopped up when he’s talking to you is bc he’s in shock

Idk why I thought ppl would question this but the voices (/j) said to do it

#shinaguzawa genya #sanemi shinaguzawa #demon slayer + reader #demon slayer + male reader #angst #demon slayer x male reader #demon slayer #demon slayer x y/n

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blvckqwz · 1 year

Text

Murphy's Law

TWs: ANGST, Death, Violence

A/N Hey guys, this chapter will suck lol, sorry in advance. (Also I just finished writing this now at 5 a.m. so again please forgive my mistakes. lol.)

The following morning was colder than usual, Y/N thought as she made her way to the drop ship. She looked for Charlotte for at least an hour but she couldn’t find her anywhere.

Clarke and Wells were nowhere to be found too. Weird. She finally found Finn walking across the camp with a worried look on his face. They weren’t really friends but he still was Clarke’s friend so maybe he knew where she was.

“Hey Finn, have you seen Clarke?” She asked as she approached him.

“Hi Y/N, Clarke’s still sleeping.” He answered nervously. Even weirder. “Oh okay… Where are you going?” She asked as the boy kept looking around.

“Maybe you should go to sleep too Y/N, I’ll call you when Clarke is up.” He quickly said, not answering her question.

What the fuck was happening that morning Y/N asked herself as she made her way to a small crowd that was forming at the edge of the forest, just behind the wall.

“Hey no, you can’t go there.” Finn said, following her. “Why? What’s going on?” She asked as she reached the group of delinquents. “You don’t want to see it, trust me.” He said, garbing her forearm. “No, I want to see.” She stated as she made her way.

Her heart stopped as she watched the ground where a corpse was standing in a pool of his own blood. What the hell? She thought as she watched the body with more attention. “I’m sorry Y/N, the grounders got him tonight.” Finn said, eyeing the girl carefully, afraid that she might snap at him. Instead she just shot him a confused look. Why was he sorry? She didn’t know the guy, she thought as she watched the limp body.

“That’s the Chancellor's son.” She heard someone murmur to another delinquent.

No, it couldn’t be, Y/N thought to herself. Wells couldn’t be dead. It didn’t make any sense. She could hear her ears ringing as everyone’s voices got louder, everyone’s eyes on her, waiting for her to snap. She wanted to scream at them to go away but her throat felt suddenly sore as she couldn’t rip her eyes away from Wells’s corpse.

“Everyone get back to work.” She murmured. She could hear Finn screaming at everyone to go away but she didn’t care, her mind only focussed on Wells.

He was dead. Her best friend since when she could remember was dead. The only person that ever made an effort to understand her was gone forever. Her knees felt weak as she fell down next to her dead best friend. Finn left with the rest of the delinquents, understanding that she wasn’t going to cry until everyone left.

She started to silently sob as she watched Wells’s last expression. He was afraid. He didn’t die peacefully, he died afraid. A loud sob escaped her lips as she closed his eyes. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to die in such a brutal way, she thought as she went back to the camp and grabbed a shovel and made her way towards the small cemetery.

Her best friend deserved to rest in peace. She started digging the grave as her eyes were still full of tears. It took a while since her hands kept shaking too hard but after an hour Wells’s body was finally buried. He was in peace now, she thought as she sat in front of the grave. Her hands were covered in dirt and her face wasn’t any better.

Clarke was frantically looking for Y/N since she heard the news. Wells was dead. He was found dead and with his finger cut just past the wall. She could sense tears forming in her eyes as kept searching for the girl. She found Finn instead, and immediately ran to him. “hey since when are you awak-” He started saying but the blonde cut him off, “Where is Y/N?” She asked worriedly. “Oh, so you know what happened.” He sadly said. “Where is she?” She nervously asked. She knew Y/N and she knew how she handled things. Plus she was friend with Wells so she was probably the only one who could understand her.

“Oh there she is, near the graveyard.” Finn said to Clarke.

“Thank you.” She replied, leaving before he could say anything else to her.

She wondered if Y/N knew that Wells didn't kill her dad. She probably did since her and Wells were basically best friends. She must be so hurt, she thought as she got closer to the girl, who was writing something on an object that Clarke recognized as her old notebook. She always kept it with her since they were little, she remembered with a bittersweet smile. A lot of things have changed from then.

Y/N could hear footsteps behind her but she didn’t care, her eyes not leaving the small notebook in her hands. She loved to write things on it every time she felt either inspired or needed to talk, especially after she got locked up. It was originally a gift from her parents for her birthday but she kept it all those years, still not full yet. Even if they were richer than the rest of the Ark, Y/N knew how much her parents must have worked for giving her such a pretty diary. The cover was in true leather and it had an elastic closure.

She loved that object so much, she thought as the footsteps got louder. She closed the diary, allowing the person behind her to start talking.

“Is this his grave?” Clarke asked from behind the girl. No one really liked Wells so how did they already dig a grave?

Y/N just nodded before replying “I just finished digging it.” Almost as she could read Clarke’s mind, who felt horrible now. The poor girl had to bury her best friend alone while Clarke was sleeping. She was an awful friend, she thought to herself. “Can I sit here?” She then asked. Y/N scooped over and Clarke sat next to her in complete silence as she studied the girl that was once her best friend. Her eyes were still puffy from crying before and she had dirt on her face, probably due to drying her tears with her hand. She had an expressionless face as she watched the grave but her eyes were full of sadness, Clarke recognized.

“I’m sorry Y/N, for everything.” She said to the girl, who didn’t answer. Understanding that she wasn’t willing to talk, Clarke just got up with a sigh.

“He loved you, you know that right?” Y/N finally spoke as Clarke was already walking away. “He loved you too Y/N.” She said with a sad smile. “That's not what I mean. He was in love with you. Like true love or some bullshit like that.” She explained as Clarke sat back next to her.

“H-how do you know?” She asked.

“Why do you think he let you have him for so long?” Y/N replied, her eyes still fixed on the grave.

“So you knew.” Clarke realized. Of course she did, she thought, they were best friends, “Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked then.

“I made him a promise.” Y/N explained.

“He forgave me after everything I’ve done to him.” She said incredulously.

“I can’t say I’m surprised, he was the kindest person I knew.” Y/N replied with a sad smile.

“And you? Do you forgive me?” Clarke asked then. Y/N turned around to study her for a while.

“I can try.” She said with a small smile, “ but I’m not as nice as Wells, keep that in mind.” She continued with a smirk. “Oh don’t worry, I’m not that nice either.” Clarke replied laughing, “So, are we friends again?” She asked.

“of course Clarke.” Y/N replied with a smile. God she missed having a girlfriend, or a friend in general. They stayed in that graveyard for a while, remembering old memories and just chatting in general.

When Y/N finally got up Clarke quickly came up to her and pulled in a hug. “Sorry, I had to.” She awkwardly said. “No problem.” Y/N replied, holding her closer. Then she finally left, her heart feeling much lighter now.

But of course problems were still there as she entered the wall. And the problem in question always had the same name: Murphy.

She carefully eyed him barking at random kids to work while Bellamy was behind them, also watching him. She still didn’t trust him obviously, but maybe he wasn’t a threat, at least compared to Murphy, who was completely insane. Her eyes landed then to Charlotte, who was trying to help, and she smiled at the sight of the little girl. She started walking towards her, wanting to check on her. Unfortunately they couldn’t go to the woods again since a grounder killed Wells. At the thought of Wells, Y/N felt her eyes glossy again. How was she going to handle this? She thought with a shaky breath as she approached Charlotte. “Hey, how is it going?” She asked once she finally reached the girl. “Oh hey Y/N.” Charlotte answered, “I’m trying to be useful.” She continued with a small smile.

“Need some help?” She asked. “No, don't worry, I’m leaving anyway.” She said as she eyed a guy in front of her tripping over his own feets, “I’m a little tired too.” She concluded.

“Hey are you okay? What’s your name?” Y/N asked as she helped the boy up. “I’m Cor-” He started saying but a yell interrupted him.

“Connor what the fuck are you doing? Get back to work now.” Murphy yelled at him as he made his way towards them, unknowingly catching Bellamy’s attention as he moved closer. It’s not like he liked Y/N but he didn’t want her and Murphy to fight again, that’s how he explained to himself why he was carefully listening to the argument between the two delinquents.

“He’s tired, let him rest.” Y/N firmly spoke to Murphy. “He can rest when the wall is built. Maybe you should help us princess, or do you want other people to die like Jaha junior?” He said with a smirk. Bellamy moved closer as a crowd of people started to assist the scene.

“Well maybe you are the one who should help instead of standing there and shouting orders.” She stated as she felt anger growing in her chest.

“It’s okay Connor, have a break. Murphy, get this guy some water. “ Bellamy ordered.

Y/N felt the adrenaline rush dropping and was just about to turn to Charlotte and telling her to rest when she saw a scene with the corner of her eyes that made her burn in rage again. Murphy was now standing behind Connor and pulling his pants down, starting to pee on him. Y/N felt rage washing over her again as she made her way towards the boy.

“What the fuck are you doing?” She growled at Murphy who was now dressed up again and smirking.

“He asked for water.” He said, causing his dumb minions to laugh like crazy.

“You think that’s funny, idiot?” She asked, trying to calm down. She couldn’t make a scene, she told herself as she turned around, not now that the grounders were getting closer.

“Maybe.” He answered, “What are you going to do about it huh? Call your little privileged friend? Oh wait you can’t, he’s dead.” He then said, but instantly regretted it when he saw Y/N’s face as she twirled around and hit him in the jaw. Murphy stumbled back with a groan in pain as the crowd ran to assist the fight. “Don’t you fucking dare to talk about him! Got it?” She started screaming as she kept punching him. Her first collided with all her strength on his nose, breaking it with a revolting crush. But it wasn’t enough to stop her, not this time. This time she wanted to see Murphy fucking dying.

Bellamy started running towards the crowd, already knowing what was happening. He made his way among the crowd who was cheering like crazy but nothing could've prepared him for the scene in front of him.

Murphy was lying on his back against the ground, his nose bloody and probably broken, bruises on all his face and a split lip. In front of him was standing Y/N, panting and with her hands full of his blood. It happened again. She beated him up again, Bellamy realized with a sigh before hurrying to the girl.

“Kane, go to the drop ship. Now.” He ordered.

“Yeah you better listen to him Y/N, what would Jaha think if he saw you beating up a limp body again?” He mocked her with a grin.

That was it, Y/N thought. She was going to let it go and avoid hurting him badly but now he was a dead man. She ran towards him and kicked his face with all her force as he groaned, spitting blood. Then she pulled him up grabbing him by his jacket and punched him again. And again and again, until his face was basically unrecognizable.

“Y/N! Stop!” Bellamy yelled, grabbing her with both arms to stop her from hurting him anymore.

“Let me go Blake or I swear to God that I’ll fucking kill you.” She hissed before turning to Murphy who was now basically crying.

“If you fucking dare to talk about Wells again, I’ll kill you. Got it?” She barked at him. She didn’t wait for him to answer though, outbursting to the dropship after she pushed Bellamy off.

“Everyone get back to work! Show is over!” Bellamy yelled, then he looked at Murphy.

Blood covered his entire face and he couldn’t even stand up. She really fucked him up, Bellamy thought. Maybe she really was crazy, maybe he should avoid her, he thought.

“Bellamy, what are you waiting for? You have to stop her, she’s a psycho, she tried to kill me again. We have to kill her.” He kept ranting, but Bellamy wasn’t listening to him, his eyes fixed on the girl’s back as she entered the drop ship. She turned around one second, her piercing gaze meeting him and leaving him without his breath.

Crazy or not, that girl was an unsolved mystery and he was determined to discover her secrets, he thought as he watched her disappearing behind the drop ship enter.

“You knew what you were doing, Murphy. Don’t annoy her and she won’t annoy you.” he cut short before going back to work.

“Oh my God, what happened?” Clarke asked Y/N as she stormed in the drop ship, her hands and clothes covered in blood.

“Don’t worry, it’s not mine.” She replied as the blonde started cleaning her up.

“That’s… good I think.” She answers confused. “Amyway, Octavia said that she found something we have to see.” She continued. “Oh okay.” Y/N replied. It was probably bullshit, she thought as she made her way towards the tent with Clarke next to her.

Bellamy watched Y/N with worried eyes as they made their way towards the tent.

“Hey what happened by the way?” Clarke asked her.

“I’ll explain later, don't worry.” She said, suddenly feeling nervous. If Bellamy was worried then it must be something serious, she thought as she entered the tent, Octavia Bellamy and Jasper already in it. They sat down as Octavia put something on the table in front of them. It was a knife and some… fingers? Wait, were those Wells missing fingers? That means that the knife was what killed him. But it wasn’t a grounder’s knife, Y/N thought. “Me and Jasper found these things outside the wall. The metal of the knife was made from the dropship and the fingers are Wells’s.” Octavia spoke.

“What does it mean?” Jasper asked.

“It means we have a killer among us.” Y/N explained, “Who else knows this?” She then asked Octavia.

“No one else, I brought it straight here.” She replied. “Good, let’s keep it this way. We don’t need people to panic, especially with the grounders after us.” Y/N stated. If the news that an assassin was around them spread, people would quickly understand her secret, she feared.

“Do we know whose knife it is?” Clarke then asked.

“It doesn’t matter, there is more than one murder here, we need to keep this quiet.” Bellamy said. That made Y/N involuntary tense up, hoping that no one noticed. She knew that the statement wasn’t directed to her but she still felt nervous. He was getting closer to the truth, Y/N thought as she eyed Bellamy for a second. She couldn’t allow that.

“Yes, we do.” Octavia said, “J.M. John Murphy.” She then said.

Of course, Y/N thought, he hated Wells. Anger started burning in her chest again as she closed her fists. She already was mad at him, if she actually confronted him she would’ve killed him. “People have the right to know.” Clarke stated before walking out the tent. Bellamy immediately got up and started following her, Y/N behind him.

“Clarke, be smart about this. Look at what we’ve achieved… the wall, the patrols. Like it or not, thinking the Grounders killed Wells is good for us.” He said to her.

“Blake is right, this will cause pandemonium. We wait and think of an actual punishment.” Y/N added. “How can you say so? Wells was your best friend?” Clarke turned around to look at her. “He won’t get away with this Clarke, I promise you that, but for now no one can know.” She replied.

“People have the right to know.” She stated, before storming off to Murphy.

Oh no, Y/N thought as she followed her.

“You son of a bitch!” Clarke yelled as she pushed Murphy. “What the fu-” He started saying but she cut him off, “Recognize this?”

“Yeah, that's my knife, where did you find it?” He asked. “Next to Wells's body, after you killed him.” She spat back. Murmurs started spreading among the delinquents.

“I didn’t kill anyone.” He started defending himself. Y/N felt anger growing in her chest. He was lying.

“You threatened to kill him, you hated him!” She piped in. “Everyone hated him.” He replied. “He tried to kill Jasper too.” Octavia yelled.

“Just admit it! Admit that you are a killer!” Y/N shot back.

“This is ridiculous, I don’t have to answer you, I don’t have to answer to anyone.” He shot back. “Coma agin?” Bellamy said, taking a step forward, now standing next to Y/N.

“Bellamy you have to believe me man, I didn’t kill anyone.” He started begging. His eyes shifted, meeting Y/N’s cold ones. “If I wanted to kill someone I’d kill her don’t you think? I’m not a murderer, trust me.” He kept begging.

“But you couldn’t kill me cause you are weak so you decided to take Wells by surprise, knowing that you couldn’t even beat him in a fair fight, didn’t you?” She growled back. “That’s not true Bellamy, you know me and you know her, she’s a psycho, please believe me.” “Is this the kind of society that we want? ” Clarke spoke up from behind them, stepping forward, “In a society with no rules? Where killing each other is okay? Where the guilty don’t go unpunished?” She shouted, glaring at Murphy.

“I say we float him!” A boy shouted. Others began to cheer, agreeing with him, “Float him! Float him! Float him!” They started chanting.

Clarke looked at Y/N for help, but she didn’t meet her gaze, her eyes burning holes in Murphy’s skin. Maybe it was the ager that still didn’t cool off, maybe it was the fact that he tried to kill her and killed her best friend or maybe it was the way her father raised her, but she didn’t feel the tiniest bit of empathy as she watched the delinquents trying to hang him to a tree. Clarke was now screaming at the top of her lungs, begging them to stop but it wasn’t enough. Her eyes meeted Murphys as the crowd kept beating him up. He looked miserable.

Good, that’s what he fucking deserves, Y/N thought. She didn’t care if thinking it was morally horrible or if it made her an horrible person, she felt fucking happy as she watched that worm finnaly getting what he deserved.

The crowd started moving towards the fatidic tree and she followed them, joining their sick joy. Maybe she was broken, maybe it was in her DNA, but the execution was the first thing that finally made her content that day.

They hanged Murphy with a noose and put him on a crate. Y/N made her way among the crowd, reaching the edge to take a better look.

“Bellamy, you should do it!” The crowd started cheering Bellamy’s name as he slowly walked towards Murphy.

“Bellamy please stop them, you can do it, they listened to you, please, I know you don’t want to kill him.” Clarke begged him crying as she tried to stop him. “This is on you, we told you to keep your mouth shut.” he growled.

“Please Y/N tell him to stop, I know you. Please don’t let him kill Murphy! I know that if you wanted him dead you would’ve already killed him.” She begged her then, but Y/N just slowly shook her head, “It’s too late now.” she stated, her eyes sickly glowing in revenge as she kept watching Murphy.

“What about Charlotte, do you want her to see a guy getting killed?” She then said.

That made Y/N come to her senses for a second, looking around for Charlotte. But she couldn’t find her anywhere, so she just hoped she left before this mess began.

Bellamy finally reached the crate where Murphy was standing and turned around to look at the two girls for the last time before killing him. He locked Y/N’s eyes for a second that felt like an eternity. The approval in her eyes was enough for Bellamy to kick the crate, the crowd cheering like crazy. Murphy was now suspended in the air, dying as the crowd kept cheering. “What the fuck are you doing? Let him down!” Finn started yelling as he tried to reach the dying boy, but he got stopped by a delinquent before he could even take a knife to cut the noose.

Y/N touched her lips and realized she was smiling the whole time as she watched Murphy struggle.

“Stop! Okay?” A voice echoed in the forest. They all turned around to look at the little girl who yelled. Charlotte. Oh no, Y/N thought, she shouldn’t be seeing this.

“Murphy didn’t kill Wells,” She continued, “I did.”.

Shock shook Y/N to the core as she watched Charlotte. How could she kill him? After everything she taught her, she decided to kill one of her best friends. She felt someone grabbing her by the forearm and guiding her to a tent. I turned around, seeing Bellamy next to me with a shocked expression on his face.

“Why did you do it?” Finn asked angrily, but Y/N didn’t answer as she kept crying. “Why?” He kept asking as Murphy outside the tent continued to scream, “Bring the girl out!”.

Y/N head was spinning too hard to comprehend the following words. Charlotte killed Wells. The news kept repeating in her head as she sat down. How could she? She asked herself. She was just a kid.

“I’m going outside.” Bellamy stated. That brought Y/N back to reality. She got up, following him. “Where do you think you are going?” He asked her, “You can’t go outside, he’ll kill you.”

“I can’t stand staying there another second.” She answered, “Plus I can beat his ass if I want.” She stated.

Charlotte let out a loud sob as she watched the girl exiting the tent. “I’m sorry Y/N, please don’t let them hurt him.” She said.

Y/N turned around to look at the little girl who was once so dear to her, almost as a sister. “Stay with them, we’ll solve everything.” She stated before following Bellamy outside.

“Look who decided to join us.” he said with a smirk, “Our new leaders who hang people for fun!”

He exclaimed with a sick laugh. “What is it? Here to hang me again? Will your psycho bitch the one who kicks the crate now, oh mighty Bellamy?” He asked as he made his way towards them.

“We just gave people what they wanted.” Bellamy explained calmly as he took a step forward, putting himself between Y/N and Murphy before he could attack her. The next thing he needed was her getting hurt.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s a good idea. Why don’t we do that right now?” He said to him, “So, who here wants to see the real murderer hung up? “ He then spoke to the crowd.

“Y/N, go. Now.” Bellamy whispered to Y/N.

“What? Why?” She asked

“Because he’s going to be really angry now and I don’t want you to get hurt.” He stated before he could even think. What the fuck was wrong with him? He asked himself. They were all going to die and he just admitted he somehow cared for the girl.

He turned around to explain himself but Y/N was already gone. Good, he said trying to focus, one less distraction.

Y/N was running like crazy in the forest, holding her bow thigh in her left hand and her knife in the right one. She knew it wasn’t the safest thing to do but she didn’t care, her only thought was finding Charlotte. Well, it wasn’t her only thought but it was the only one she wanted to listen to. The back of her head was still thinking about what Bellamy said. Did he care for her? Were they friends now?

“Charlotte!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, but no response was given. She started to run again when someone grabbed her, putting a hand on her mouth so she couldn’t scream. Grounders? She asked herself in fear.

“They are in a bunker near here, I’ll take you there,” Finn murmured in her ear as she let out a relieved breath.

“Y/N?” Clarke asked at the sight of her friend entering the bunker where her and Charlotte were. “Hey.” She said with a small smile.

“But why are you here? Where is Bellamy?” She asked then. Heath rushed to her cheeks at the mention of the boy’s name.

“Oh… he didn’t need my help.” She quickly brushed it off. Her eyes fell on Charlotte, who was sleeping on a tiny bed. “I can’t believe she did it.” She said with a cold face.

“She? Y/N you are the one who got us in this mess when you allowed Bellamy to hang Murphy!” Clarke shot back.

“What? We told you to keep your mouth shut, so if there is anyone to blame here is you.” Y/N spat. No way she was going to feel guilty for trying to kill that asshole.

“People needed to know. The truth is that you are a coward just like your father. You always criticized him but you are just as guilty as he is. You almost let an innocent boy get executed today. I can’t believe you let Bellamy do it.” The blonde argued.

Y/N felt her body burning again as she almost threw herself on the girl in front of her. But then she realized that if she wanted to survive the night she had to avoid conflicts.

“Don’t you fucking dare talking shit about me or my father ever again. Got it?” She hissed before storming off the bunker.

She was going to look for Murphy's men, making sure they didn’t come near the bunker, she decided.

Bellamy fell with his face in the dirt, probably tripped over a rock or something. He was starting to seriously hate those woods, he thought to himself as he got up and started running again in the dark forest. He needed to find Charlotte, he needed to protect her. Not just her, he needed to protect everyone. The thought of Y/N returned in his mind. He hoped that she’d found them, and that they were okay, he thought. He still felt dumb for what he said to her before, not even knowing how to explain it to her.

A running figure in the middle of the woods interrupted his thought. It was a girl. “Y/N…” Bellamy realized out loud, running even faster. He quickly caught her, garbing her and hiding behind a tree.

“Are you fucking crazy? What if I was one of Murphy’s men huh?” He asked her as he unintentionally still held her close to him. Once he realized what he was doing he immediately got flustered and let her go murmuring an apology. He had to stay focussed, he kept repeating to himself.

“Charlotte is with Clarke and Finn in a bunker not too far from here. I’m trying to find Murphy to keep him away from them.” She explained, still panting.

“Why aren’t you with them?” He asked her.

She said something under her breath, looking everywhere but at him. “What?” He asked confused.

“I got in a fight with Clarke and left.” She then admitted, still not looking at him.

“Are you crazy? You were in a safe place for once.” He said. His mind kept thinking what if he was a grounder or Murphy? She could be dead.

“Why do you even care? You hate me anyway.” She shot back.

He stared at her for a while before replying, “I didn’t save your stupid ass so many times just to let you die in the stupidest way ever.”. Now it was his turn to look away, as he waited for the girl’s response.

He was already prepared for her to snap at her for calling her stupid but instead she just started laughing. “Well we have to keep moving if we want to save their stupid asses too.” She said with a smirk before walking in the forest, completely unaware of Bellamy’s amazed gaze following her.

Silence fell between the two of them as they kept quietly searching for Murphy and his minions. “Why did you fight with Clarke anyway?” Bellamy finally asked her. Y/N looked down for an instant, unsure if it was okay to tell him the truth or not. “She started talking shit about me and I just kinda lost it.” She quickly explained, “Why do you care?” She asked then. Bellamy just shrugged, “I’m trying to make a conversation, you know, that thing humans usually do…” He then answered.

“Ah ah ah, very funny Blake.” She said, a smirk twitching up to her lips.

Crazy how she was able to smile even in that messed up situation, Bellamy thought. “We’ll find them, you know, Charlotte and the others.” He then said. “I know it’s just… What are we going to do then? Murphy will eventually find Charlotte.” She answered, nervously biting her nails. “I know Murphy, he is all talk and no act.” He reassured her. “Yeah I kinda have noticed it.” She said, referring to all the times he claimed that he was going to kill her.

“I don’t know if it will be enough to stop him from hurting Charlotte though. I just hope it is because we can’t have two deaths in a day.” He admitted.

The thought of Wells came back in Y/N’s mind as she felt tears getting to hereyes.

“It’s all my fault, Wells wanted me to come with me the night when Charlotte killed him. I could’ve protected him but I was too focussed on my own problems to listen to him.” She said, the thought of Atom and Wells’s dead bodies flashed in her mind.

“You didn’t know that would’ve happened, you did your best. Plus you were already dealing with Atom’s death.” Bellamy replied, “Thank you for what you did for him in the forest by the way. I could've never done that.” He then said.

If only he knew why she was able to do it, Y/N thought. Instead she just nodded.

“It’s my fault too by the way.” He then admitted, “I told her to slay her demons if she wanted to sleep, but that wasn’t what I meant.” He said, shaking his head, “I got us in this mess, I gave Charlotte the knife, I pushed the crate that almost killed Murphy.” He slowly said, his words full of regret. Y/N wanted to say something but a glimpse of Charlotte running shot in front of her. “Look, it’s Charlotte!” She whispered to Bellamy as she ran towards the little girl. The two of them could feel Murphy getting closer but still continued to run towards the girl. Bellamy grabbed her, taking her in the opposite direction as Murphy’s followers. Charlotte let out a scream as Bellamy put a hand in front of her mouth to prevent her from screaming anymore. “I’m trying… hey, hey. I’m trying to help you.” He kept saying as Charlotte struggled. “Charlotte, stop moving or you’ll get us all killed. Do you want to kill anyone else?” Y/N firmly spoke. Charlotte just shook her head as she stopped moving. “A little harish Kane.” Bellamy commented.

“Whatever, she needed to calm down.” She coldly answered.

A shout interrupted the group and Bellamy accidentally dropped Charlotte, who instantly ran away.

“Charlotte!” Y/N screamed before following her.

“Charlotte you can’t hide!” Murphy shouted not so far behind them.

“Shit.” Y/N cursed as she ran faster, finally reaching Charlotte as they got on the edge of a cliff. “We need to find a way out.” Bellamy said once he reached them.

“Charlotte! Damn it. You cannot fight all of us. Give her up.” Murphy yelled as he made her way towards them. “Maybe not, but I guarantee I’ll take a few of you with me.” Bellamy spoke as he stood in front of Charlotte.

“Stop! We can discuss this!” Clarke said as she emerged from the forest, Finn following her.

“Yeah yeah, we can talk.” Murphy said as Clarke got closer but in an instant he grabbed her and held a blade on her throat. “I will slit her throat.” He stated as everyone watched him. His eyes met Y/N’s, “What is it? Got a dejavu?” Y/N just ignored him as she held Charlotte closer to her.

“Please don’t hurt her.” Charlotte kept crying.

“Don’t hurt her? Okay, I’ll make you a deal. You come with me right now, I will let her go.” Murphy said with a smirk. Y/N’s grip on Charlotte loosened up a bit with those words.

“Charlotte, it’s a trap, don’t do it!” Bellamy screamed but it was too late, Y/N realized as she watched the girl walking towards Murphy.

“No! No, I have to!” She said.

“Charlotte stop, we can still solve everything. I get it. The guilt of killing Wells is crushing you. I know that feeling. But we are not going to let you die, no matter what you have done.” Y/N calmly spoke as she tried to get closer to her.

“I’m so sorry Y/N for being such a disappointment and for hurting you. I can’t let any of you get hurt anymore. Not because of me. Not after what I did.” She said and with that she jumped off the cliff.

“Charlotte, no!” Y/N screamed running towards her but it was too late.

She was gone, another friend was dead.

Y/N felt tears filling up her eyes as she watched the dark place where Charlotte’s body was.

She could hear Bellamy and Clarke calling Charlotte’s name but it was too late.

“Murphy.” Bellamy growled as he made his way towards the boy. “Bellamy I swear I-” He was cut off by Bellamy’s fist landing on his jaw, followed by many other punches and kicks.

Y/N watched as Clarke tried to stop him from killing him, but at this point she didn’t even care if he lived or not. Him dying wouldn’t bring Charlotte back anyway.

"Bellamy, stop! You’ll kill him!” Clarke shouted.

“Get off me! He deserves to die!” Bellamy shot back. Rage had completely washed over him as he kept punching Murphy. He knew he said he didn’t want to have any more blood on his hands but at that moment he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was making him suffer.

“No! We don’t decide who lives and dies. Not down here. We just need rules!” Clarke yelled.

“Rules, huh? And who makes those rules? You?” He spat as he kept punching Murphy, who was now barely conscious.

“For now we will.” Clarke stated.

“So are you saying we just take him back and pretend like it never happened?” Bellamy asked as the rage grew.

“We banish him. He can’t come near the camp for now on.” Clarke explained.

“And we kill him if he ever tries to come back.” Y/N piped in.

Bellamy carefully eyed Murphy before growling, “If I ever catch you near camp, we’ll be back here. Understand?” Murphy just nodded before Bellamy dropped him.

Everyone started to leave but Y/N couldn’t move her feets. Her hands were shaking so hard she had to put them in her pockets. She could hear Clarke garbing her and guiding her to the camp but she didn’t look up, not even once.

She then climbed up her tree, feeling more alone than ever. Tears were burning her eyes again but she ignored them, trying instead to sleep. A sharp pain from her wrist woke her up though. She looked down at her wristband. The green light was off, she realized as she touched it. But just as she did so, the wristband broke, leaving her even more hopeless.

Wells was dead. Charlotte was dead. And now the Ark was going to die too.

She quickly got to the bonfire, throwing her wristband in the flames. She stood there for what felt like hours before hearing footsteps coming from behind her.

“Did you take off your wristband?” Bellamy cautiously asked as he approached the girl.

“It broke. Now we are alone.” Y/N explained, her eyes not leaving the flames. Bellamy carefully watched the girl, afraid that she could break just like her wristband.

“How are you holding up?” He then asked. Y/N thought about it for a while the truth was that she felt fucking horrible. People around her kept dying and she couldn’t save them.

“I’m just tired I guess.” She finally answered.

“Get some sleep then.” Bellamy said, “Maybe not on that tree, nights are getting colder.” He added, handing her a weird looking tent. “I-it’s a tent, I thought that maybe you preferred sleeping in here more than on a tree.” He explained rubbing the back of his neck. He couldn’t help but to feel like a silly teenager around her, he cursed himself as he anxiously waited for her to laugh at him in the face. Instead she just smiled, “That’s very kind, thank you.” She said before taking the tent.

“See you tomorrow then.” She then said, making her way towards a place to place her tent.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow.” Bellamy answered before entering his tent.

“Who were you talking to?” Roma asked, still lying on his bed.

“Just a friend.” He answered with a smile.

#bellamy blake x reader #bellamy x reader #bellamy blake #the 100 #the 100 fanfiction #bellamy blake imagine #bellamy blake fluff #clarke griffin #wells jaha #marcus kane #john murphy #fanfic

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epros · 2 years

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hey guys do you remember when i first got into milgram and made a crazy post about haruka? im about to ramble a bit because i dont feel like making something more in depth but remember when in that post i talked about how my first impression of the girl hes with as a child was not his sister 9or friend???) but his idealized self? well i decided afterwards that both of those things can be true and the release of “all knowing all-agony” solidified that for me hey. dont walk away. let me explain. (deckard cain voice) stay a while and listen... its obvious that harukas relationship with his parents (particularly his mother) is very fraught. they clearly dont care for him. when they have a daughter who is “normal” (not an effeminate ‘son’ who is developing differently than other children) (because haruka is autistic) (if you get it you get it) they stop pretending to care about haruka and focus on the daughter instead and haruka is like what the fuck 😐... haruka killed her for 2 reasons: 1. because he was sick of being neglected by their parents who favored her, particularly their mother because idk the dad has to be absent or a serial killer considering haruka didnt even attempt to latch onto him for approval in the absence of his mothers love (dad does not want a girly “son” even if said son will join the serial killer business) (i cannot explain this further at the moment but it makes sense if youre me or tshirt) (to be brief the fact haruka had been previous validated for killing someone/something and thinks killing Again will totally earn more love and validation is so strange and makes no sense even in the context of if the death was because of his parents taxidermy hobby because theres a stark difference in killing an animal and killing a person and most taxidermied animals are already dead not killed For The Sake Of Taxidermy in this the year of 2022 so someone is a serial killer) and 2. because he was like well there can only be one girl here and youre a REAL girl which is not fair . But if youre gone i will be the girl again. #win the fact all knowing all agony starts with lines like “why was i born like this / why does it hurt so much?” and “you kept calling me ‘hopeless’, you never called me by my name / you were always comparing me to someone else / you were always generous, except towards me / i will definitely make you love me again” and him going into his mothers(?) jewelry drawer and taking a necklace (that might have been his sisters 🤨✍????) is like. there is something happening here. the insistence that “i wasnt wrong, i wasnt wrong” (which was also present weakness) during the chorus, along with pleas for someone to “hug me again as you once did” and “dont leave me alone, dont leave me” and, like the beginning of the song, “why was i born like this? why does it hurt so much?” just makes the soup in my brain start bubbling the real meat of what im trying to talk about comes from lines like “i just wanted to be your good boy. why am i crying again?” and “i will keep on killing to be a good boy”. near the end we also get “why was i born to be me? why does it hurt so much?” like, his mother only validated him when he was a “boy”, and he was killing. apparently. but doing this is painful for him. existing as a boy and also killing people(?) (things?) for attention isnt something haruka particularly wants to do but its what gets the attention he needs. i havent forgotten that in weakness he asked “how many more times do i have to do this so i can be human?” implying if he does not kill he is not human enough. but also his mother was clearly distraught at the end of the video when haruka was on a pile of animal corpses (which was an awesome visual just btw) theres something going on anyway the point im winding to is haruka is a girl actually and maybe her dad is a serial killer (who knows) her mom sucked and maybe she killed her sister out of frustration and neglect and also because she wanted to steal her gender (but haruka was a girl before her sister came into the picture make no mistake she did not decide to become a girl because her sister got more attention and love than she did. but it did prove to her in her mind that oh well if im a girl then 🤨... like do you get it?)

tshirt put it thusly after we watched all knowing all agony: “i'm just like. narrativizing this in my head like "oh and haruka self consciously models himself after specific women in order to gain their approval and also disavow the femininity as emerging intrinsically from him-- btw also his dad is killing people" which i think sums up what im trying to say because ive just kind of been on a stream of consciousness ramble because i fell asleep thinking about harukaisms last night truly i cant get over the repetition of lines like “why was i born like this why does it hurt so much” “i wanted to be your good boy / why am i crying again” like im sorry but there is something so gender about taking on the habits of the women around you and being agonized by the fact you are not physically like them and crying over being a boy but wanting to be a boy because its what you “are” and the only thing your parents will see you as and they are the only source of love and validation you have in your life even though they are not validating or loving you and resent you the more you try to gain their affections. LIKE MAKE IT MAKE SENSE ? also i think its really funny if harukas dad IS a serial killer because we have someone like kotoko who is gungho for vigilante justice so much so she beat the shit out of an 11 year old cult survivor (i wont forgive milgram fandom for voting amane guilty btw) and mikoto who is so stressed by familial responsibility and work that he started disassociating and beat a guy to death with a baseball bat and also shidou botched surgeries for reasons currently unclear (finger paresthesia? moving a loved one up on the organ donor list? both?) and its just like. haruka with the actual lucid serial killer dad. who also kills people because she feels like she has to. i dont know its just really funny to think about... (theres also futas whole thing and kazuis and yunos but they arent killers. probably. futa wasnt a willfully malicious murderer he just accidentally doxxed a woman alongside the guy who was sexually harassing her and social pressure drove her to suicide. kazui is a closeted gay man with a wife who may or may not have killed herself. i wrote a whole thing about it remember? and yuno had an abortion. which like, is against the law, especially if she didnt have the ‘fathers’ consent to do it, and depending on the method of abortion. mahiru has something going on idfk if shes a stalker or what. and then theres haruka and muu. muu is so funny spoiled rich lesbian schoolgirl who is feeling super validated that her murder was justified because she was being bullied and now she has haruka to yank around. falling back on her old ojou-sama hobbies. good for her) milgram is so funny.... anyway tl;dr i do think haruka displayed girl power when she murdered her sister(?) and whoever or whatever else she might have killed for attention and voting her innocent/forgiven is the best option (because its the funniest option for her future development)

#milgram #sakurai haruka #you all should have voted mikoto innocent too because it would have been funny #you see it isnt about what is 'best' for the characters interests and positive character development its about what is funniest #fandom said they cared about 'positive character development' and voted amane guilty like get real #anyway #i forgot to preface the post but i talk about haruka being a girl and murder and abortion and animal death #just fyi

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lisatelramor · 1 year

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Crossing Borders ch2

Pain. Back, neck, shoulder, head, hip, couldn’t move, hurts—why?—hurts, a face above, blurry, confusion, fear, no breath in lungs to call out, no strength. Everything wrong, wrong, hurts, it wasn’t fair.

Wei Ying pushed the energy back and out, returning it to the blood; look this was your source, stay. Ugh. He hated the disorienting feeling it left him with. The fall had knocked the breath from the victim’s lungs, maybe even left him with broken ribs, and injured him in multiple places. There wasn’t any recognition though, no clear feeling toward the person who pushed him. It couldn’t have been an accident. Not with the energy up there as well as down here, but it was a puzzle as to what could have done it.

Perhaps Lan Zhan had more luck.

“Anything?” he asked, stepping back onto solid ground. There was a small furrow between Lan Zhan’s brows and that didn’t indicate anything good.

“Mm,” Lan Zhan hummed—a negative. “The spirit is present and aware, but insists that he was alone out here before he was pushed to his death.”

“And he specifically said pushed?”

“Yes.” The sounds of Inquiry faded away as Lan Zhan lifted his hand from the strings. “He thought he saw a face when he fell, but it was too poor of an angle to make out details. The pusher had long hair, however.”

“Oh, well that narrows things down to, eh, half the residents,” Wei Ying said sourly.

“Was he part of a group or a solo visitor?”

“A group.”

“Any women?”

“Yes.”

“So potentially one of them could be the murderer.”

Lan Zhan hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing; considering.

“I mean murder can be really, like, personal and all.” When it was the living doing the killing at any rate. The dead were a lot less choosy about who they took their anger out on.

“We should see the body.”

Ugh, more blood. Well, if he wanted to avoid corpses, being a cultivator was a poor career choice. Still, it never got any less gross. And annoying. …Okay, maybe his reactions to dead bodies weren’t on par with the average person’s. Most people would lead with screaming, not annoyance. “Lead on,” Wei Ying said with a heavy sigh.

He had a feeling he wasn’t going to get any more research done for a while.

*o*o*

Conan had picked through his meal—or at least as much as he was willing to eat—when the bell started ringing. With the muffled silence of the dining hall only interrupted by the sounds of moving chopsticks, the sound carried through the whole room with an ominous, low reverberation. Conan didn’t have much time to wonder what it was before two people came through the door, white robes swaying behind them as they walked so fast it skimmed the rule against running.

They went straight for the head table.

Conan didn’t like where this was going. A guest missing, an alarm bell ringing, and people on the edge of serious worry? Clearly something had gone wrong, and Conan was willing to bet it involved the missing person.

A low murmur broke out among the tables as the bell kept ringing. Conan craned his neck, but he couldn’t see the expressions on the people at the head table. What he did see was two more people standing abruptly.

“Attention!” a woman in white robes said. She wasn’t shouting, but her voice carried through the whole hall, smothering the muttering and easily heard above the bell. “There has been an incident and we must ask that all visitors return to their guest dormitories.” It was said in English, followed by Mandarin, likely because it was aimed at the wide range of guests. “Please follow a disciple back to your rooms. If you have not finished your meal, you may request further sustenance to be eaten in your rooms.”

“Well, this is really turning out to be a shit show,” Mouri grumbled under his breath.

“Tou-san,” Ran chided.

“What? There’s a billion rules, the food is awful, the rooms are awful, and now we’re going to be locked in them?”

“We’re not going to be locked in, they want to make sure everyone is accounted for,” Ran said reasonably.

“For a week getaway, it sure resembles a prison,” Mouri said as they let themselves be herded into the line of people.

Some distance behind them, Conan could see the people he was watching earlier approaching one of the robed people, concern on their faces. Clearly they also worried that their missing friend was related to the alarm. That, or they were worried he’d get separated. It was too far away to make out what was being said, never mind that it was probably in Mandarin.

“Please, follow me,” one of the residents said, presumably to the group at large. Or maybe they were dividing out by groups or housing?

Conan didn’t think too hard on that, eyes searching for clues on what might have happened. There were people everywhere, moving like an ant colony that had been poked with a stick and yet somehow still moving with calm purpose instead of running like one would expect in an emergency. The ones in white seemed to move in pairs, and that would make sense for a patrol of some sort looking for a potentially unknown threat. Everyone had backup.

There was so much movement, Conan almost missed a streak on the ground, almost lost in the footprints and dust. Blood. Not a lot of blood, but definitely blood that had been stepped in, moving toward… He squinted at the building in the distance. Not the kitchens or dining hall, naturally. The compound’s map was a vague picture in his head. Infirmary? He thought it was the right direction for it, and if someone was dead or injured, it would be the logical place to go.

Conan let himself drop back, distance widening between him and the Mouris. No one seemed to notice. They all had their tasks to carry out or were also guests moving toward different locations. He drifted back. Back more, in the direction of the probable infirmary. No one stopped him. Conan tucked into the shadow of a building and moved as fast as he could without outright running because running would probably make him noticed instantly.

Nothing to see here, just an insignificant child…

There was more blood, drops really, a smudge here or there, but this was Conan’s element. As two residents hurried by, he kept in the bushes until he was close to the infirmary door. There; a smudge of blood at the opening where someone had touched it with bloodied hands.

Conan slid the door open just enough to slip inside.

The front room was empty, just a counter and a few seats and a wall full of tiny drawers with handwritten labels on them. There was a door behind the counter, and another hallway branching off from the reception room. Down the hallway were voices, serious-toned.

He crept closer.

There wasn’t anywhere to hide in the building, definitely not in the minimalistic hallway, but if the people talking were too busy with the victim, then they wouldn’t have any reason to look out and see him. Conan crept to the doorway of some sort of exam room, the door just open a crack. The voices were clear here, but of course Conan couldn’t make head or tails of what was being said. He knew maybe twenty Mandarin phrases at most, and they might not even be the same dialect as what people here used.

He let a silent breath filter through his teeth, annoyed. He couldn’t see the victim from here, and he couldn’t get anything from the conversation beyond that no one in that room sounded happy. There had to be some way for him to get a better vantage point…

Up toward the top of the rooms was a lattice work, enough to ensure a level of privacy but also let air flow through the building. A quick glance, and yes, no one in the room next door. Conan heaved a chair on top of the cot near the adjoining wall. It wasn’t exactly a steady situation, but needs must.

Conan clambered to the top and found himself still just a bit too short to see to the other side.

With a mental deluge of swearing, he had the brilliant idea of jumping the last few centimeters to hook his fingers through the lattice and drag himself up enough to view.

Ow. Both uncomfortable, and was going to be difficult to get down from, but he could see into the other room. There were three men standing around a male corpse, the body laid out on an exam table. The man looked like he died from a head wound, between the amount of blood congealing around his head and the fact that the back of his clothes seemed to be drenched in it. Head wounds bled a lot, quickly. There were other injuries too. Blood on his fingers, leg, maybe more on the man’s back, but impossible to see without close examination.

A head wound and scraped hands. That could easily be from fighting someone off, but it was a lot more likely to be from a fall. A fall didn’t rule out murder. With Conan’s luck it was pretty much guaranteed to be murder, but he could hope that it wasn’t.

His focus was drawn back to the room at large when someone pulled a stringed instrument from… somewhere. It was some kind of qin. How had he missed such a large instrument? Why was there such a large instrument? As he watched, the men grew silent as the musician began to play. It almost… it almost looked like some of the notes were playing by themselves.

Conan squinted, trying to figure out the trick, but as he tried to pull himself up just a bit closer to the lattice—a few centimeters could make all the difference—his foot braced against the wall slipped.

“Sh—” He cut himself off, clinging with his fingertips as his hands suddenly took his full weight. Ow! The floor was a lot further away when hanging near the ceiling from a bit of carved wood. If he was any heavier, the lattice probably would have broken already.

Okay. Okay, he could do this. He just. Had to get a bit away to a clear patch of floor and drop. Or drop on the cot and hope it didn’t collapse or send the chair flying. …He knew he should have brought his suspenders. Those would be really useful right now.

By some shred of luck, the people on the other side of the wall didn’t seem to have noticed him slipping. The music kept playing with the weird serious intensity about it. If Conan could just get down, no one would be the wiser…

Slowly, he moved his hands a bit to the right. His arms were already aching, but this was fine. Conan still had the situation under control. Just half a meter more…

He slipped. Of course he slipped, he was in an annoying child body with a child’s annoying limitations, and Conan hated this situation so freaking much.

Conan clenched his eyes closed as his fingers lost their battle with the lattice, bracing for a crash, pain, the inevitable of everyone in the next room finding him and tossing him out of the compound before he could even get into solving the case.

Instead, two hands caught his middle.

“Kid, you are definitely not supposed to be here.”

Conan opened his eyes and looked up to see the man from the library. Despite the censure of his words, he didn’t actually look upset about finding Conan scaling the walls to spy on people. The person behind him, on the other hand, had a scowl that could peel paint.

“Eavesdropping is not allowed,” the second man said in clipped English.

“Lan Zhan. Chill, he’s like, eight tops.”

Conan really hated how being physically a kid made absolutely no one take him seriously. But then again, he was less likely to get in trouble if he played the little kid card. He let his eyes go wide and repentant. “I’m almost seven,” he said.

“See, practically a baby.”

Okay that was a little too demeaning. “I’m not a baby!”

Lan Zhan said something in Mandarin. The man still holding Conan by his armpits responded in English. “Okay but the baby Lans are exceptions to the rule. Except for Lan Jingyi. He gets what it’s like to be a child.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said in a tone of someone long-suffering but fond.

“Right, right.” Wei Ying swung Conan around and set him on the table so fast that Conan felt dizzy. “So. What made a kid like you spy on a bunch of old guys in a medical room?”

“Uh.” No matter how many times he got put on the spot, it never really got easier to come up with things on the fly. And it’s not like he could say he heard about this on TV. “I saw people going this direction when the alarm happened,” he said, stretching truth into his story because it always helped to give it a bit of backbone. “And there was blood on the ground and people at dinner were worried about their friend, and I thought I could find out if it was him so they’d worry less.”

Wei Ying gave him a skeptical once-over. “And you jumped from a few drops of blood to deciding that it had to be from their missing friend and that the people in this direction were, what, covering it up? Kid, that would be really weird.”

“That sort of thing happens a lot,” Conan said truthfully.

“People covering up dead bodies?”

“Yes. Or making dead bodies.”

Wei Ying stared, eyebrows going up, before glancing over his shoulder like his friend might have some sort of insight. Lan Zhan’s face was still set in a cold, judgmental stare, so Conan wasn’t sure if there was any actual communication going on there, or if Wei Ying was doing an equivalent of ‘do you see this??’ at him.

“Hey Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said, “I think this kid might be cursed. Because none of that is normal. Do you know how many dead bodies a person outside of hospitals and funeral homes run into in a year? Because the answer is none. Little kids in particular should not be running into corpses on the regular.”

“I live with a detective,” Conan said.

“He takes you with him to investigate homicides?” Wei Ying said, looking horrified.

“Er.” Conan made his eyes go wider and tried to channel cute, child-y vibes. “He doesn’t try to, but a lot of the time people just… die.”

“On cases.”

Conan nodded.

Wei Ying said something to Lan Zhan in Mandarin. Conan couldn’t parse the words, but the tone made it clear he was still stuck on the whole cursed thing. People were so superstitious. First the police back home, now some random people at a Chinese temple-resort? (Conan still wasn’t sure how to refer to this place and its oddities.) Yes, he ran into a lot of bodies, but it wasn’t that weird. Running into violent crimes was part of why it had been important to live with Mouri in the first place…

“Right,” Wei Ying said, making Conan’s attention snap back to him. “So you’re going to leave the people in the next room to do their thing, and we’re going to get you back to your family.”

“But I didn’t get a chance to check on how the man was d—”

“He is dead,” Lan Zhan said, blunt and clipped and a bit different in accent than Wei Ying speaking English. His face was expressionless.

“You’re sure?”

“Ah, very sure,” Wei Ying said. “No one’s losing that much blood and living. Maybe hold off on telling his friends that though. There’s an investigation going on.”

Conan caught the implications. “You think they had something to do with it?”

“Eh? Well, maybe? But honestly, we don’t need people panicking over a death before we have all the facts.”

Conan grimaced, knowing exactly the level of chaos several dozen panicking people could produce. “Someone has to talk to them about something though. The longer their friend is missing, the more they’re going to get scared. And to know if they did it.”

“You’re stuck on one of them doing it, huh?”

“Well,” Conan shrugged, “most murders are done by people close to the victim. Unless it’s an assassin or a stalker.”

Wei Ying pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mm, really want to talk to your guardian, kiddo. Do they even know where you are? Didn’t think so.” Wei Ying sighed. “Lan Zhan.”

“Mm, time to return to the guest rooms,” Lan Zhan said.

“Wait!” Conan said. He scrambled off the table. “I don’t even know how he died yet!”

“Look, I’m only telling you this so you stop snooping,” Wei Ying said squatting to be closer to Conan’s eye level. While he appreciated the chance to look someone in the eye without craning his neck, it also felt demeaning. Conan frowned at him. Behind them, Lan Zhan made an unhappy sound. “Lan Zhan, he was in the library with me when this guy would have died. Anyway. That guy? Died falling from a cliff. So there, curiosity satisfied, go find your designated adult.”

“I’m not helpless,” Conan protested automatically, though he let himself be pushed toward the door. His mind whirled over the new information, matching the injuries he’d made out on the corpse to the cause of death. Very probable that it was the truth. Next door, the music stopped and Wei Ying all but herded him and Lan Zhan out of the room.

“I’ll handle things here, take the kiddo to his people.”

“I have a name!” Conan protested.

“That’s nice.”

Conan wrinkled his nose as Wei Ying leaned in quick to press a kiss against Lan Zhan’s face. PDA? Really? And kissing openly in China? Apparently with all those rules, somehow public displays of affection and homosexuality weren’t included. Nice to know.

“Bye-bye,” Wei Ying said with a cheery wave.

Then Lan Zhan’s hand closed over Conan’s shoulder and pushed him firmly toward the exit, leaving Conan no choice but to walk away from this particular mystery.

*o*

He half expected to get a lecture the moment Wei Ying was gone, but instead Lan Zhan remained intimidatingly silent. Conan shot him a few uncertain glances, not quite sure what to make of him. If his boyfriend(?) was dressed casually, Lan Zhan was the exact opposite. He looked like one of those people who rarely had a hair out of place. Even his clothing was neat and stain-free despite being white robes and being in the middle of nowhere up a mountain. Add to that the eerie lack of expression now that he was no longer scowling, he could easily pass for a model or something. Someone intimidating and unapproachable.

It wouldn’t be odd to picture him leading a meditation circle or something…

Conan wasn’t going to get away from him though, not when Lan Zhan kept one hand on his shoulder the entire time like he was just waiting for Conan to try and run off again. Which was fair. Conan would absolutely hare off after anything that popped up that looked like a clue.

The rush of people from earlier were gone, just two pairs of white-robed people patrolling the main roadway between the buildings.

They had swords.

Conan would have zeroed in on that more except there was a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. Kudo Shinichi’s face was there, clear as day under the edge of one of the guest quarters’ buildings. Conan stopped dead, barely feeling Lan Zhan’s fingers tighten their grip. “You!” he said, too loud in the silent courtyard.

‘Shinichi’ looked up, saw Conan, and paled before pasting over the self-assured confidence that Conan used to have before everything fell apart. “Yo! If it isn’t the little detective,” he said cheerfully.

Conan wiggled free from Lan Zhan, ignoring the sound of disapproval behind him as he stormed forward. “What the hell are you doing here?” he hissed in Japanese. “And with that face! I told you not to wear that face!” It wasn’t even as good a job as usual. Kid—because this could only be Kaitou Kid—looked like a Shinichi who’d been given a noogie while wearing hair gel. “Are you stalking me?”

“I had no idea you were here, Tantei-kun, but that does explain why everything’s gone bellies up. Your poor karma strikes again.” Kid snorted as Conan scowled.

Conan didn’t even have his soccer ball belt on right now, but he could probably wipe the grin off Kid’s face if he kicked him in the shin.

“Mr. Kuroba,” Lan Zhan said behind Conan—Conan caught a flinch Kid couldn’t quite hold in—recapturing Conan’s shoulder firmly. “You should not be out of your room. It is not safe for guests to wander at the moment.”

Kuroba, huh? Where did Conan know that name from…?

“Ah, sorry Mr. Lan,” Kid said with a little bob that barely counted as a bow. “I thought perhaps I could offer my assistance.”

“None that you could provide are currently needed.”

What help? Stealing something? Well, no, Kid wasn’t useless at a murder investigation, but he was no detective. Some flashy sleight of hand wasn’t going to be much use in finding out who pushed a man from a cliff though. Wait. Sleight of hand… “Are you a Kuroba Toichi fanboy?” Conan blurted in Japanese, remembering the hours his mother had gushed about his skills and abused the disguise skills the man had taught her. Actually, the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. Kid’s style had a lot similar to what Conan remembered from the couple of performances he’d been dragged to. “You are, aren’t you? You’re even copying his stage presence.”

Kid flushed, paled, flushed again, like he couldn’t decide if he was mortified, angry, or who knew what behind that grit-toothed smile.

“Mr. Kuroba Kaito?” Lan Zhan cut in, clearly not amused by being ignored, but Conan could care less.

“Wow. That’s an awful pun. What happened to Doito Katsuki?” Conan could almost forget to be angry about Kid wearing his face with all this joke fodder to hold over him. “You really chose to have a play on ‘thief’ for your first name?”

“Please shut up.”

Lan Zhan huffed. “I see you both know each other and are equally bad at doing what you are told,” he said coldly.

“Ahaaaa.” Kid rubbed the back of his head. It made the hair even more of a mess. “Sorry, sorry, I really was going to offer my help. And I didn’t even know my…cousin…was here.”

Cousin. Well, they did look related for obvious reasons. Of course ‘Conan’ looked like ‘Shinichi’. “I thought Shinichi-nii-san was still busy with a case in Japan!” Conan chirped in English.

Too brightly, because both men side-eyed him.

“Well, Conan-kun, I was following a lead.” Lan Zhan frowned like something in that explanation didn’t match what reason Kid had given to be there. Kid turned to Lan Zhan. “Sorry my cousin is being a nosy brat. He can’t help it.”

Conan pointedly kicked him in the shin, feeling a prick of satisfaction as Kid cut off a hiss of pain. “You’re just as nosy,” Conan said with his innocent-little-kid smile on.

“I am going to flirt with Mouri-chan for that,” Kid hissed in Japanese.

“Try it. I can kick rocks with just as much accuracy as a ball, and you don’t have to have a big target for me to hit you where it hurts most,” Conan shot back, still smiling. Also in Japanese because he wasn’t stupid.

Lan Zhan looked between them before visibly deciding he didn’t want to have anything to do with whatever tension was going on between them. “Mr. Kuroba, please return to you room. I am taking…”

“Edogawa Conan,” Conan said because he realized he never gave them his name.

“Mr. Edogawa back to his guardians.”

“Ah, maybe I’ll go stay with them,” Kid said.

Lan Zhan sighed, done with both of them. “Wherever you go, please stay there until someone comes by to inform you it is safe to leave your rooms.”

“Right, right!” Kid said with a laidback grin that didn’t fit quite right on ‘Shinichi’s face. Too wide, a bit too round in the cheeks. Kid’s impersonations weren’t always flawless it seemed. “We’ll do our best to keep out of trouble.”

Lan Zhan said something under his breath in Mandarin. Conan was willing to bet it was some variation of “I highly doubt that.” Then, hand coming down on Conan’s shoulder again, they were herded the rest of the way toward Conan’s room.

Kid, now that his actions were decided on, strolled casually like he didn’t have a care in the world. What was he here to steal? Or was there even anything to take? The place was so minimalistic. That didn’t mean there couldn’t be a relic of some sort set with a hefty gem; places with history often had objects with a lot of value. Still, it seemed like a lot to come all the way to China. Kid had almost exclusively stuck with Japan since his return from an eight-year hiatus.

“So,” Kid said to Conan in Japanese, as casual as if they were just catching up, “what’s the situation?”

“Why should I tell you?”

“Hmm, maybe because I’ve helped before in the past? I’m guessing it’s a murder, since the only time I run into dead bodies seems to be when you’re nearby.”

Conan scowled. “If you start up about being cursed, I’m going to kick you where it hurts.”

“Oh ho?” Kid lifted an eyebrow, grinning. “Is that what you’re doing here?”

“What?”

“Seeking a cure for a curse?”

Conan frowned, squinting up at Kid’s ever-masked face. “Curses aren’t real. I’m here because Mouri won a sketchy trip to China from a shop by the race tracks.”

Kid nodded slowly. “Huh. I could see someone thinking it was Mouri Kogoro who was cursed, not you, since most people don’t know how often you run into bodies even when he isn’t around.”

“I’m not cursed! I just—”

“Attract murderers and corpses,” Kid finished. “I never ran into dead people before you. Now there’s murderers and corpses all over these days.”

“Oh, and none of that is related to you being a criminal,” Conan said scathingly.

“For your information, the number of times a person pointed a gun at me before I met you could be counted on one hand.”

“Really?” That didn’t feel like it was right. Somehow it seemed like Kid surely had to have had police aim at him, if not a criminal.

“Yes,” Kid said emphatically. “Because having guns pointed at you isn’t normal. The average person in Japan neither runs into murder victims nor rogue gunmen. You’re just a statistical outlier.”

Conan kicked at Kid’s ankles, but was rudely dodged. Lan Zhan’s hand on his shoulder kept him from following. Conan hated Kid sometimes. Bad enough he wore Shinichi’s face, he had to mock him too.

“No fighting in the Cloud Recesses,” Lan Zhan said in a firm tone.

“It’s play fighting,” Conan lied.

“Tell that to my bruises,” Kid muttered under his breath.

“We are here,” Lan Zhan said as they reached one of the guest buildings. Conan had missed their arrival with how the few guest housing buildings looked identical. “Return to your room and stay there, please.” He pushed Conan firmly toward the door. “You as well, Mr. Kuroba.”

“Of course,” Kid said with a smile, catching Conan’s shoulder before he could squirm away. “Good luck with your investigation.” With a little half-bow, Kid pushed Conan through the door and shut it behind them.

A frowning resident of the Cloud Recesses stood just to the side of the door.

Kid gave her a reassuring grin, still shoving Conan along.

“Stop pushing!”

“Start walking then,” Kid said lightly. “Which door is yours?”

“Toward the end,” Conan said unhappily. “But I don’t want you wearing that face. How are you going to explain Kudo Shinichi being here in China?”

“Maybe he won a mysterious prize like your snoozing detective,” Kid said. They ducked into a side hallway, all the doors closed, and no one in view. “So, is there a body?”

“Yes,” Conan said sourly. “One body.”

“Mm, one so far, got it.”

“You’re going to jinx us.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in superstition?” Kid tilted his head to the side, a smirk that was too wide for Shinichi’s face on his lips.

Smug asshole, Conan thought. “Your face,” he said demandingly.

“I could change it,” Kid said, “but—” He held up a finger to stop Conan’s protest before it could even start. “But, this is the current face that people here are aware of me as, and I would rather not have a twitchy, paranoid disciple attacking me just because I’m the one face that isn’t on the guest list.”

Conan rolled his eyes. “There’s dozens of people here. They’re not going to notice one—”

“Tantei-kun. They’ll notice.” Kid was dead serious. Conan had seen him serious before, even if it seemed like Kid’s first instinct at any given moment was to deflect or charm anyone before him. “It may not seem like it, but they are very serious about security here, and they keep track of who is and isn’t allowed to be here at any given moment to an obsessive degree. I am not getting attacked or kicked out just to make you feel better.”

Yet again, Conan wondered what the hell sort of place this was. “They’re an ascetic resort,” he grumbled. “What do they need that level of security? Is there some kind of cover-up going on here?” Actually, that was entirely probable. That library could have held who knew what sort of information and valuables. Let alone the myriad of other buildings and kilometers of mountain land.

Kid snorted. “There’s nothing illegal going on, but they do like their secrets. It’s closer to a religious cult than anything else.”

“Rule worshippers?” Conan joked even as he turned the thought over in his head. Some sort of religious group would make sense with the remote location, the whole robe thing, the focus on practically monastic living, and even the large collection of old books. It fit, but it wasn’t a pleasant concept. If it was a cult, then who knew what sort of things they did behind the scenes? They could even be responsible for the death. Perhaps not though, with how they were reacting…

Kid laughed. “Ugh, yeah there are way too many rules. It makes me want to break as many as possible in a spectacular manner before they boot me out of this place.”

“Such a pity you have to behave or you won’t get what you came here for.”

“Exactly.”

“That was sarcasm.”

“And I’m being entirely serious,” Kid retorted. His expressions were a lot more fluid than usual, Conan noted. More fluid than Shinichi’s generally were, almost like he’d only taken Shinichi’s face as a template and added a few changes for personal taste.

Conan still hated it. “I’m not backing down about your face.”

Kid rolled his eyes so hard his head practically moved with them. “I’m not changing it. I don’t even look that much like Kudo Shinichi at the moment. This face is clearly far more handsome.”

“Excuse me?” Conan’s eyes narrowed. A bit rounder face, a wider smile and eyes that smiled a bit easier were not huge differences. Nor was hair with permanent bedhead. Perhaps the eye color was a bit darker, but perfectly matching eye color was hard; Kid probably used contacts and the shade of his natural eye color would affect the end result. Even with those small differences, Conan couldn’t say that Kid was more attractive than Shinichi’s features. Also, he was kind of insulted that Kid would suggest otherwise.

“Not that Kudo Shinichi is bad for the eyes, but he’s just not as charismatic,” Kid continued, “and charisma adds to anyone’s looks.”

“Fuck you.”

“You know, I’m pretty sure swearing is against the ru—ow.”

Conan had no regrets kicking Kid once again. It finally wiped the damn smugness off his face.

“A little defensive of your ‘cousin’ there, Edogawa,” Kid grumbled. He rubbed at his shin where there had to be quite a few bruises starting. “Look, I am not changing my face, but I won’t use Kudo’s name either. I’m just Kuroba Kaito, Japanese high school student visiting for a personal research project.”

“Is that how you’re spinning it.”

Kid shrugged, stepping back out into the hall. Conan wanted to drag him back, but he really had been gone long enough that Ran was sure to be worried. “I am here for a personal research project. It’s just not academic in the least.”

“Because it’s illegal.”

“Research isn’t.”

Semantics. Conan would keep arguing, but they were at the correct door. Instead, he knocked before the door was yanked open from the inside like someone on the other end was just waiting to open it.

“Conan-kun!” Ran said, furious and worried as she yanked him into a hug. “I was so worried! Don’t wander off like that!”

“Ah, I just wanted to know what was going on!” Conan said, wiggling in her grip. He liked her hugs. Really. But between Kid watching and the ever-present guilt being squashed to her chest brought, now was not one of the moments to enjoy it. “I didn’t mean to get separated.”

Ran pulled back, seeing right through him. She knew him too well, Conan and Shinichi both, to believe that he hadn’t intentionally ran in a direction with trouble.

“Don’t make excuses; you always end up right—in… the middle… Shinichi?” Ran stared over Conan at where Kid stood, his hands in his pockets, watching them interact like it was a mildly interesting TV show.

“Kudo?” Mouri’s voice growled from inside the room. “If that brat is here-”

Conan flinched as Mouri appeared behind Ran, full angry-father mode.

Kid, being the asshole that he was, blinked at them like he’d never heard the name Kudo Shinichi in his life. “Who, me? Oh, no, I’m Kaito. Kuroba Kaito.” He did a quick twist of his wrist, making a paper flower appear in his hand and offering it to Ran. “Amateur magic enthusiast. Pleasure to meet you. I was just escorting this guy home.” He patted Conan on the head with his free hand and Conan swatted his touch away.

Mouri glowered as Ran accepted the flower hesitantly. Her eyes flicked across Kid’s face, no doubt spotting all the little details that Conan had in how Kid’s face differed from Shinichi’s.

“Thank you?” Ran said, more of a question than an actual thanks.

“And you must be this child’s family?” Kid said like this was a perfectly normal situation and meeting them for the first time.

“He’s just a freeloader,” Mouri said, looking Kid over like he was searching for a trick. Like Kid was a trap.

Honestly, it would have been admirable instinct except that Conan knew it was only motivated by dislike for Shinichi.

“A doppelganger?” Ran said with a frown at her flower.

“He’s never met Shinichi-nii-san,” Conan piped up in his ‘little-kid’ voice. “It’s so funny that they look alike!”

“Funny,” Mouri said flatly. “Right. Well, thanks for bringing back the troublemaker. Better get back to being stuck in a room with absolutely nothing to do.”

“Ah.” Kid somehow made himself look believably abashed and apologetic, and just a bit shy. It was such a weird look on him that Conan couldn’t help staring. “I was hoping… Ah, I was told not to go back out, and I was hoping I might be able to have some company until we’re allowed out. I have a pack of cards?” he offered, pulling one from his pocket. “It would give us something to do?”

Mouri looked at the cards, looked at Kid’s too-familiar face, and sighed. “Whatever. Better than staring at the walls.”

Conan was sure he was the only one that saw the flicker of smugness in Kid’s smile. Sadly, there wasn’t a reason to add to Kid’s shin bruises as Ran stepped back to let them inside. Conan resigned himself to having to put up with a phantom thief for the near future.

*O*O*

Wei Ying rubbed at his temples. So, they had something killing people, an unhappy dead guy, and a potentially cursed child in the mix. He’d thought the kid was a little weird in the library, but there was ‘strange child’ syndrome and there was ‘well beyond the realm of normal’ and they had to be pretty far past normal for a child under ten to be so calm after seeing a dead body. No, not just calm. Curious, driven, and intent. He had caught the kid literally climbing the walls after all.

Wei Ying didn’t have a ton of experience with children. Just some visits with Shijie and adorably grumpy Jin Ling, who was pre-verbal, and every few months seeing Wen Yuan when he visited Wen Qing and Wen Ning. Wen Yuan was only three, ridiculously easygoing, and usually well behaved. And okay, Wei Ying had a bit of experience working with younger cultivators, both at Cloud Recesses and before with the Jiangs, but that was closer to pre-teen age, not barely-school-age.

Even without any real experience with that age group, he knew the kid definitely wasn’t responding like a child should. Wei Ying would know how a kid responded to trauma. He’d lived trauma around that age.

Ugh.

Too many problems, not enough answers.

There’d been an energy for a moment back there, right before he caught the kid… Not quite resentful, not quite spiritual, something strange and yet not strange at all in a way he didn’t have a definition for yet.

In the next room, the music was petering away. Wei Ying shook his head and moved toward the door.

The cultivators playing were people he should probably know the names of by now. Because he was terrible with names and not really allowed to go to sect meetings, Wei Ying had never really figured out who they were other than only one of them actually had the surname “Lan.” He pasted on a smile as heads jerked in his direction. “Ah, looks like you’ve been busy here.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Qiren said from the corner, looking like he wanted to jump right into a lecture, but didn’t have a topic quite yet. He seemed to always think the worst of Wei Ying. It wasn’t Wei Ying’s fault that his nephew fell in love with the most morally dubious cultivator currently still active. (Xue Yang, stripped of his cultivation and in prison didn’t count no matter how creepy he was.)

Because he was never going to get the man’s approval, Wei Ying had long stopped bothering to try, preferring to be himself. Lan Zhan loved him; that was enough. Wei Ying ignored the whole group and strode over to the body.

It was pale, still stained with blood, eyes the awful glassy filmy look that the dead had, disconcertingly half open. The man had guest robes on, and clearly had a painful time of it as he died. Lots of injuries. Not a great way to go. “So, what does the corpse know?”

“For the last time,” Lan Qiren said, “Inquiry speaks to spirits, not corpses—”

“Yeah, yeah, but this guy isn’t whole. There were bits of spirit at the cliff too.” Violent deaths and all. He would pull together eventually, either becoming a resentful ghost, or passing on, but for now he was a bit of a mess, physically and spiritually.

One of the Lan made an interested sound, but Lan Qiren shot him a frown. “We had gathered that some parts might be missing. He seems to be confused about why he was out there alone in the first place.”

“Really?” The spirit hadn’t felt confused. Maybe Wei Ying’s side got the bits with that memory. “What about what pushed him? The scraps of him at the site mostly just remembered dying.”

“What method did you—”

“We’re looking into the potential murder of a guest; do my methods really matter that much at the moment?” Wei Ying said lightly. He looked at the corpse’s hands. The nails were torn, and there was a cut on one wrist, probably where the blood at the top of the cliff came from. The resentment on the body was the same desperation-tinged feeling as the bottom of the cliff; he hadn’t wanted to die and was unhappy about it.

Lan Qiren’s lips thinned. “The man’s name is Shen Ming, and he was part of a group of students here for a week of rest to purge their bodies of stress from their studies.” Wei Wuxian took in the name and almost immediately forgot it. Murder victim a student here with friends, important info memorized. “He did not get a clear view of what killed him, but he is sure that he was pushed.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty firm about that.” Wei Ying tried to find anything out of place on the body. Injuries aside, he was wearing one of the plain guest robes that the Cloud Recesses loaned to guests that stayed more than a weekend. Nothing stood out. Nothing on him that seemed like it would attract a vengeful ghost or any other sort of spirit. “He saw something while he was dying. A person with long hair up above, but it seems likely it was a ghost with the traces of resentment and the lack of physical evidence of its presence besides, well, the victim.”

“Our wards should keep that sort of spirit out.” Lan Qiren’s frown had gone concerned. Wei Ying felt a twinge of sympathy, because if the wards weren’t working right, they would have to go all around the mountain shoring up weak points. They had children here; they couldn’t take chances with their lives.

He shifted from foot to foot. “You know, I could…with a few talismans…”

Lan Qiren held up a hand, frown etched deeper in his brow. “Not yet. If our methods fail, then you may try yours, but it would be preferable to rely on orthodox cultivation methods.”

“Right.” Wei Ying sighed. No one ever wanted to use his inventions, not even the ones that weren’t actively using resentful energy. “I could at least add more wards to the guest quarters? All one hundred percent orthodox, Lan approved talismans, I swear.”

“Hm. That would be appreciated,” Lan Qiren said, looking like it was painful to express any kind of gratitude in Wei Ying’s direction.

“Awesome, I’ll get on that.” While leaving Lan disciples to try and find a spirit that shouldn’t have been able to get in here in the first place. Ugh. It would be so much easier if he could lay down some evil attracting talismans. While it wasn’t a guarantee of luring the spirit out, it was a lot more likely to find it than combing through bushes in the woods around them. “One more thing; what are we telling the group he was with?”

He got a grimace in response and a weary pinch to the bridge of Lan Qiren’s nose. “While it would be better for the investigation to withhold anything about what happened, for legal reasons, we’re going to have to disclose that he’s dead. Call it an accident for the moment.”

“At least until we have a face to pin the attack on. Er, if the group is involved.”

“They might be. And they might be this spirit’s next victims if they weren’t directing it to kill their companion. Now I need to go talk to the sect lawyer because this is going to be a mess when it gets out.”

Wei Ying winced. Boy was he glad that it wasn’t his job to do that. He also hoped that no one in the cultivation world would take this to be somehow his fault. Get blacklisted once, and everyone looked at you funny for anything that went wrong around you. “Good luck with that. I’ll just…” Wei Ying motioned at the body.

“Don’t do anything questionable to the body,” Lan Qiren said wearily, but it was testament to how stressed he was that that was the only thing he said before leaving.

Which left Wei Ying, a corpse, and a couple higher ups in the sect. the cultivators eyed him like they were anticipating having to chuck him out of the room. Wei Ying ignored then because he tried to give judgmental assholes as little of his attention as possible. For his mental health.

The corpse was, well, very dead. And bloody. A congealing bloody mess going into rigor mortis. The worst stage of a corpse before the decomposition kicked in. (Okay, no, the failure of bodily functions was up there in worst stages and—actually maybe he wasn’t going to think about all the grossness that happened when a person died.)

More for show than actually expecting to find anything, Wei Ying carefully shifted folds of cloth, looking for any objects that the man might have been carrying. Someone scoffed behind him, but Wei Ying ignored them. The resentment from a murdered body was pretty strong. An inactive object could hold resentment and be masked by the body’s energy. He opened the front of the robes and, “Oh, hey.” There was a necklace. A piece of heavy thread knotted at the back, and only a single wooden bead strung to it.

Traces of resentment clung to the bead.

Wei Ying maneuvered the thread over the victim’s head. He let the bead dangle, not touching it just yet because he had some sense no matter what Jiang Cheng used to say. His brother was biased. “This is the sort of thing you guys were supposed to be looking for,” Wei Ying said to the room at large.

“Oh, go do your heretical cultivation somewhere else,” the person who scoffed before said.

Wei Ying rolled his eyes. “Sure. I’ll go away right when you actually need me.” The person started saying something else, but Wei Ying went back to ignoring them. The bead was about as big around as his thumbnail, smooth and glossy like it had been lacquered not too long ago. Nothing carved or written on it. No obvious reason to hold resentment. Well—besides the fact that a murder victim had been holding it. Wei Ying was sure that this resentment was a bit different from the corpse’s though. He was sensitive to that kind of thing.

Anger, not fear and desperation. Something bitter mixed in. Regret, maybe, or betrayal. The bead wasn’t cursed, but it might have been possessed at some point. He poked it with a cautious finger, barely brushing the surface before pulling his hand away. Nothing. “Well, that’s disappointing.” Whatever it had been, it was drained now.

He looped the thread around the corpse’s wrist. It was a bad idea to steal something from someone who died violently after all.

“What’s happening to the body now?” Wei Ying asked one of the nearby disciples.

The woman frowned at him, but answered, which was nicer than some people managed around here. “It will be moved to cold storage until arrangements for a funeral are made and it can be transported back. There isn’t much more we can get from the body after all.”

Wei Ying nodded. “And his friends?”

“Can view the body, but it will likely upset them.” The woman laid a cover over the corpse, giving it a bit of dignity in death that it otherwise hadn’t been granted so far. “Hopefully the spirit that caused this is found soon and this whole thing can be put behind us.”

“Yeah, random deaths are kind of bad for online reviews,” Wei Ying joked. That got him annoyed looks all around. A tough crowd. He should have known better than to try and joke with a Lan that wasn’t Lan Zhan. He sighed. “Well, guess I should break the news to his group.” This was going to be a shit show.

He’d have to grab Lan Zhan for moral support.

#detective conan #the untamed #mdzs #dcmk #fanfiction #my writing #crossover

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