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#i don't really want to die but the closer i get to the situation im abt to land in
fan-dot · 2 years
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I would like to request a oneshot of clarisse x fem reader where they are rivals, but during one of Dionísio's children's parties, a small "slip" occurs (kissing and making out sessions fr) and reader ends up waking up in the morning in clarisse's bed and reader doesn't remember anything.
If you don't want to do this that's fine!
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- mistakes were made -
Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Reader
An - i do Write every request fun-fact except for a select few but yeah it’s normally in order unless I get Like such a good one I have to write it right then and there BUT! It’s almost always in order of request 😻😻‼️ anyways request more I’m loving them all
An Pt 2 - im having writers block ☹️
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Did you think you were going to be here.. no. But we’re you complaining. Also no..
You were sitting off the edge of a cliff with clarisse while capture the flag happened behind you. Her hands on your hip while yours were pinned by her waist helping you both lean on one another.
Just exchanging soft slow kisses neither saying a word. You pulled away only slightly hiding your face in her neck embarrassed. Since you first arrived at camp you both had this un-natural rivalry, from athletics to academics and beyond.
However after a month ago you both haven’t been able to keep your hands off one another. Finding every excuse or situation to be alone, though nobody knew about your secret makeouts, and no one would.
Some ares kids in the distant started shouting for clarisse bringing you both back to earth. With a heavy sigh she pulled away from you. Standing up she started to grab her spear and helmet.
Following her lead and grabbing your weapons you had started to zone out once again thinking about what you were doing. Jumping some clarisses arms snakes around your waist. “Your gonna be at the party tonight right?” She asked kissing your cheek softly.
“Yeah, im showing up with silena” you closed your eyes and leaned back slightly into her. Clarisse Just hummed in Response. “Great… I’ll see you then” she let you go but not without slapping your ass one good time. Before you could yell at her she was already running off to catch up with her siblings.
••
Standing around near a tree the party quickly got more and more chaotic. Chiron was long gone not really caring as to how or why he left, Mr. D the man who the party was for also had left most likely due to not liking being around all the campers.
With the littles away and in bed the Hermes cabin quickly broke into the dispensary and spiked the punch. One thing you knew was demigods and alcohol don’t mix well.
Your friends all gone and left with some guy or girl into the woods to do what only the gods could judge them for. Finally having enough of being alone you walked past the bonfire, grazing against clarisses shoulder as you did before heading towards the table.
Taking a seat towards the end of the table you swung your legs back and forth just trying to find something to enjoy.
“It’s improper to sit on a table” clarisse spoke making you jump as you hadn’t seen her follow you. Sarcastically sighing you pushed her back by hitting her arm.
“Shut up I’m resting my legs” you chuckled, the effects of the alcohol causing you to be more favorable towards her. After a moment you brought your head up watching as clarisse just leaned on the table beside you watching the kids around. “What are You doing?”
“People watching” she nonchalantly shrugged. “Him, Chris how much you want to bet he has a crush on the new Athena kid” clarisse moved closer to you trying hard to be sly though you saw right through her act, but you played along and leaned into her as well.
“Maybe” You Hummed. “What about Luke who do you think he likes” looking up you admired her gentle eyes, even if clarisse wanted to deny it when her face was calm she looked ethereally beautiful.
“Nobody im telling you that man would rather die than let anyone hit” she rolled her eyes with a smile, turning her head to look down at you she didn’t bother hiding her sarcastic grin.
“Well I guess I’m glad your not like him” everything in the background went semi silent as the small gap between you both closed.
Your lips softly touched one another’s. The first kiss was slow and gentle, your lips barley grazing over one another. Though it only lasted a moment before clarisse placed her hand on the side of your face deepening the kiss. The faint taste of alcohol on her lips, contrasting her subtle cologne. Pulling apart from her you quickly noticed campers looking over whispering and running off most likely to tell their friends, clarisse noticed aswell.
“Fuck.. let’s just get out of here” she muttered helping you off the table and walking towards the cabin. Your hands laced together as she dragged you through the woods, the occasional her yelling at one of her siblings that seemed to be going in the same direction.
Once in the cabin everything happened in small blurs that you could only semi remember. You sitting onto Clarisses bed, her Kissing you, You on her lap, your shirt on the ground and lastly where you currently were heavily making out with the daughter of ares while she grabbed at every inch of skin that she could.
Tangling your fingers into her curls you tilted your head, pressing your body closer if you could. Her tongue finding its self into your mouth while she helped shift you on her lap by your thighs.
Breaking away for a breath of air you kept your face close to hers. “Wanna like, hangout or something” she breathlessly panted.
“Sure” You mumbled quickly kissing her again.
••
Sitting up you rubbed your forehead, the after affects from the alcohol last night hitting you like a hurricane. Running a hand through your hair it took only a moment for you to realize that you in-fact were not in your bed.
Actually you weren’t even in your cabin. Looking around frantically you soon realized you were in the ares cabin, bringing your eyes down you saw clarisse peacefully sleeping with an arm on your waist.
With a slight frown you laid back letting out a deep sigh. Turning your head to the side you just watched as the normally angry girl was calm for once.
Not remembering exactly what happened last night bothered you some. But cuddling with clarisse was a worth it bargain.
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sematarygirls · 2 months
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Living Dead Girl Pt. II — Patrick Hockstetter.
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part one
pairing : patrick hockstetter x ghost!reader
summary : patrick gave into his urges and finally tested his morbid curiosities on prey much larger than just a cat or dog. little did he know his actions would come back to haunt him... literally.
warnings : patrick being a psychopath , animal cruelty , male masturbation , graphic descriptions of murder and suicide , reader being manipulative , degradation , sexual themes ,
word count : 4.5k words !
a/n : can't believe i'm finally posting this after a year and a half. also this is my first attempt at smut-ish so i'm sorry if it's ass. im not gonna say this is 18+ bc I myself am not 18+ (im turning 18 this year tho) also im not your mom and idgaf what you read.
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"Finally," a voice sounded, causing him to drop both his can and his plate. The sharp sound of glass breaking followed by a loud thud echoed through the room as the plate and soda can collided with the floor.
"No, no, no," Patrick shook his head, shutting his eyes. "This isn't real. I killed you. You're not here. You're not real."
"Sorry, babe," the voice, your voice, whispered into his ear. Your warm breath fanned his ear, and he felt his whole body tense. "I'm very much real."
"That's not possible," he said through gritted teeth. "I watched you die. I buried you!" He opened his eyes, convinced that this was all some terrible drug trip. Maybe the weed he'd just got from Henry was laced, or maybe he was suffering from a temporary psychosis. Either way, there had to be some rational and logical reason that he was seeing you.
However, when he saw you there, sitting there with a smug look on your face, your presence as solid as any living person, he felt his heart skip a beat.
You tilted your head, eyebrows furrowing as you pouted. "What's wrong, Patrick?" You asked condescendingly. "Don't act so scared now." You walked toward him slowly, watching him scramble backward in a panic. A smile spread across your lips as you saw the pure fear in his eyes when he hit the wall behind him, having nowhere else to go. "You weren't scared when you stabbed me. You weren't scared when you watched me bleed out in your arms. You weren't scared when you buried my body like some animal you found on the side of the road." Your voice was seeping with anger as you stepped closer and closer, cornering him. "So you don't get to be scared now."
Patrick Hockstetter was not someone who was frightened easily. In fact, up until this very moment, he didn't think he had the ability to be frightened at all. His unique ability to remain calm and collected in situations that would often stress others out was one he was prideful of. However, at that moment, he felt all composure and level-headedness dissolve. For the first time in his life, he was scared. Not just scared—terrified.
"What- What do you want?" He asked, his voice shaky as he looked into your eyes. You no longer looked at him like he hung the moon. There were no remnants of your innocence and naivety—willing to trust that people have the best intentions. There was nothing behind your cold, lifeless eyes. It was like staring at a corpse.
"Now, what's the fun in that?" You grinned, leaning forward so your face was inches away from his. Your gaze flickered to his lips. The same lips you thought he'd planned to kiss you with, but instead, he'd stabbed you in the stomach and mocked your intelligence. "You should really watch your back, Patrick," you whispered with a devious smirk, your breath fanning over his face. "I heard the search for me is really picking up after they found my blood in the woods."
Your words snapped him back to the reality of the situation at hand. He had killed you. What you were saying was impossible though. Right? He was meticulous in every stage of his plan. There was no way they found any trace of you. "What are you talking about?" He asked, his eyes searching you for any sign of deception, but you were impossible to read like this. He was no longer able to detect everything from a single glance. He only knew what you wanted him to know.
Without another word, you disappeared, leaving the boy spiraling as he went through all the events of that night over and over again. "Come back!" He screamed, his voice echoing through the empty house. "You can't just leave like that you bitch!"
Patrick let out a frustrated yell as he grabbed the nearest thing—which happened to be a porno mag—and threw it across the room in a fit of rage. Who did you think you were to haunt him? To come into his room, make him feel that horrible emotion, and tease him just to leave abruptly?
He sat on the edge of his bed, trying to control his heavy breathing as his anger took over. You had to have been lying, trying to get into his head. He hated to admit that it was working. He was supposed to be the one in your head. This was his world. He controlled everyone and everything. You shouldn't be here. You should be dead and buried like he had intended.
He fell back in his bed and took a deep breath, letting his mind settle as he chased sleep. He told himself you would be gone tomorrow and that would be that. Your appearance to him, like something out of a Charles Dickens novel, was just a fluke. Tomorrow you would be dead and all would be right with the world.
He drifted off to sleep, having convinced himself that he would never see you again. He was able to get a few hours of sleep, but you weren't going to let him be at peace for long
At around 4 am, Patrick had a very vivid dream that he was choking. He was gasping for air, clawing at his neck as he looked around frantically. His surroundings dissolved into a pitch-black room. He felt his lungs burning, his brain growing fuzzy as the oxygen left him. It felt so vivid, so real.
He awoke in a panic, sitting up straight as he gasped for air. His lungs felt like they were on fire. Like he had truly been deprived of air like he'd dreamed about. He panted, catching his breath as he looked around at his room, thankfully finding no signs of you. However, when he finally felt secure, able to draw a breath without feeling like a thirsty man drinking water, he realized the pillow that had been behind his head was now sat on his lap.
The realization dawned on him that he may have been actually suffocating, and you were the culprit. He shook his head, trying to expel the thought as he laid back down, throwing the pillow off into the black depths of his room, so he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. It was just a dream. Just as you were just a vision.
Patrick wasn't stupid, though many would argue to the contrary. Just because he didn't give a shit about school and didn't try didn't mean he wasn't smart. He just saved his intelligence for things that actually mattered—like planning and executing a murder.
That in mind, his refusal to accept the things he deep down knew to be true was not, as some would think, him being stupid. On the contrary, he believed himself smarter than to believe in silly things like ghosts. Dead things stay dead. He'd learned that at a very young age. He knew when he killed his brother that he would not be coming back. Just as he knew when he killed you that you would not be coming back.
Ghosts don't exist. He wasn't dumb enough to believe that.
As he laid in bed, trying to rationalize himself into a calm enough state to fall asleep again, he found himself more on edge with every creak of the old house around him. He stared up at the ceiling, his eyes conspiring with the moonlight to play tricks on him. His breath hitched at every shadow dancing around the dark.
You were proud of your work, and you had barely done anything yet. You watched from the shadows, pleased as he seemed to run himself in circles trying to cope with everything going on. The mere thought of you was torture enough.
You grinned, biting your lip as a thought washed over you. As a ghost, not bound by the physical realm, you had the ability to do a lot of things. One of those so happened to be raising and lowering the temperature in a room.
You focused hard, raising the temperature several degrees, making Patrick swear at the sudden sweat washing over him. You watched with a satisfied smirk as he pulled his shirt over his head, trying to cool himself off.
He didn't have a six pack or anything, but you didn't expect him to. He had a lean, toned torso with a very sexy v-line peeking out from his jeans. A small tattoo sat on his stomach just above his v-line on the right side. You couldn't make it out in the darkness, but you didn't care much. The sight of it alone was enough.
After all, who said you couldn't mix a little bit of business with pleasure.
He had taken away the rest of your life, all the possibilities of experiencing having your first kiss, losing your virginity, falling in love. It was only fair he made up for that in one way or another before your time together came to an end.
The time passed agonizingly slowly with Patrick staring at the ceiling and you watching him, studying him like he was some foreign thing. It was so interesting to watch someone when they don't know they're being watched. Of course, he felt the hairs on his neck stand on end, his body detecting the unseen eyes on him, but he chalked it up to paranoia—as he did every other unexplainable thing that seemed to be happening to him.
His mind drifted off, the heat making him restless as his brain filled with gruesome images of his previous kills. He sifted through his memory for the most interesting ones—dismembering birds, beheading cats, snapping a squirrel or two's neck—but none of them seemed to get him off anymore.
The image of your face right after he stabbed you made it's way into his mind. Your eyes, so wide and filled with fear. He could practically hear your sweet voice crying out, asking why he would do this to you. The thought made his cock tighten in his jeans.
He reached down, palming himself through his jeans with a groan. Reliving the sounds of you choking and coughing up your own blood had his fingers working quickly to undo his belt. He tossed it to the side, practically ripping the button off his jeans as he pulled them down along with his underwear, allowing his dick to finally be free from the restrictive fabric.
He spat in his hand, gripping his cock and lubricating it. He caught his chapped lower lip between his teeth as swept his thumb over his pink head, smearing his precum across it. He let out a low moan, letting his hand travel up and down his dick at a slow, agonizing pace. He kept his eyes screwed shut, immersing himself in the memory of your murder as he stroked himself.
Patrick was not a moral man by any means but this was a new low. Getting himself off to you, in his mind, was no better than if he was imagining one of his dead animal playthings. You were nothing to him. You were roadkill.
But, for some reason, the fresh sight of you, wearing the clothes he killed you in with that dark blood stain right where he'd stabbed you, your hair all matted, and the cold, lifeless look in your eyes, made it so easy to relive that night in great detail.
It was the greatest night of his life. The biggest release of pressure he'd ever felt since he began getting those homicidal urges—those itches. He didn't think he'd ever get to feel that euphoria again, but fucking himself to the thought of it would get him pretty damn close.
He let out a strangled moan, his hips pushing into his hand as he came, and he was right, it was the second-best feeling he'd ever felt. It didn't compare to killing you, but it was enough to satiate his urges once again.
He laid there, panting for what felt like hours. The time moved by so slowly until finally, the sound of the alarm block beside his bed blaring pulled him from his thoughts.
The red numbers reading 7:30 blinked slowly, reminding him that he had to get up and get ready for school. He leaned over, smacking the top of the clock roughly to silence it before falling back flat on his bed, preparing himself to get up.
He groaned, pushing himself up and grabbing a random pair of jeans and a shirt that smelled clean enough. He quickly got dressed before making his way back downstairs. He knew Belch would be here any second to pick him up—he always woke up later than he was realistically supposed to.
He slipped his boots on, and a few moments later, he heard Belch laying on his car horn. Rolling his eyes, he opened the door, heading outside and letting it slam just behind him.
"Calm your tits," he shouted in annoyance. Patrick always had a short fuse, but after the particularly restless night in which he'd been visited by some fucking ghost of Christmas Past, he found himself particularly irritable.
"Dude what happened yesterday?" Victor asked as Patrick climbed into the blue Trans Am.
"You were totally tripping the fuck out," Belch chimed in, starting the car and peeling out of Patrick's neighborhood.
"Dumb fuck can't handle his liquor," Henry scoffed from his spot in the passenger's seat.
"Shut the fuck up, Bowers," Patrick bit back, gazing out the window. "At least some of us don't piss our pants when we drink."
"It was one fucking time you dickhead!" Henry defended quickly, his cheeks turning red from the embarrassment.
At the feeling of someone's hand on his thigh, Patrick quickly looked over at Vic. "Don't fucking touch me you-" he paused just short of spitting some derogatory remark about Victor being gay and a freak when he saw you sitting between him and Victor, grinning at him darkly.
"What the fuck are you talking about, dude?" Victor asked, bewildered by Patrick's behavior. Patrick was always an odd one, but he never acted this weird.
"He probably smoked himself fucking dumb," Henry grumbled, still annoyed about the pants pissing remark.
You held a finger to your lips as climbed over onto his lap, holding onto his shoulders to steady yourself. You just wanted to rile him up a little, make him feel suffocated by you, like he could never escape. And truly, he couldn't. You were never going anywhere until you believed justice had properly been served, and you would take that in any form.
He glared at you, but you paid him no mind, leaning to whisper into his ear: "How cute," you condescended him. "You thought I would just go away." You dug your nails into his shoulders making him sharply inhale, trying not to tip off his friends to the seemingly unwarranted pain he was feeling. "You will never be rid of me," you whispered menacingly, looking deep into his eyes with a sickening grin that made nausea pool in his stomach.
In any other situation, having someone on his lap, digging their nails into his shoulders would probably have been a pleasurable experience, but this was not any other situation. This was a nightmare he couldn't seem to wake up from.
When Belch finally pulled into the school parking lot, Patrick couldn't get out of the car fast enough. You disappeared as he scrambled to unlock the door and get out, finally feeling like he could breathe. He pulled his shirt collar to the side, looking down at the angry red marks where your nails had been. They served as a disturbing reminder that you were really there, and you could do anything to him.
"You get laid last night, Hockstetter?" Belch asked, grinning as he saw the red marks.
"That why you ran off yesterday?" Henry snickered. "You pussy whipped?"
"At least, I actually get pussy," he sneered, paling as he heard your laugh echoing around him the moment the words slipped from his lips. It was a deafening sound. Like a mix between a cackle and a scream that seemed to permeate his surroundings.
His jaw clenched, eye twitching as he resisted the urge to cover his ears. Apart from not wanting to look insane, he also didn't think it would help much. You weren't around him. You were in him, in his head.
The bell could faintly be heard going off inside the school, making Victor curse under his breath. They had two minutes to get to class or they were late.
"Mrs. Denton's gonna throw a bitch fit if I'm late again," he groaned, watching as Henry lit a cigarette.
"Kiss ass," he remarked, taking a long drag before exhaling the puff of smoke into Belch's face as Victor walked away.
"You asshole," Belch coughed, shoving Henry.
"Oh, shit." Henry's eyes widened as he tossed his cigarette on the ground, quickly stomping it out. "Let's go," he ordered, making his way up the stairs to the front doors of the school, looking behind him frantically.
Patrick's eyebrows furrowed at the sudden shift in Henry's demeanor. He followed the brunette's gaze, his eyes locking with those of Butch Bowers, the sheriff.
"Wonder if they're here for you," your voice taunted him, breath tickling the back of his right ear. He turned, preparing to come face to face with that condescending smile you always seemed to be wearing, but you weren't there.
He looked back, finding Sheriff Bowers still staring at him, seemingly ignoring whatever the deputy was leaning into his ear to say. Patrick wasn't one to back down easily, but your presence, your warnings, had him on edge. He quickly advanced forward, his lengthy legs providing long strides as he followed suit in heading inside Derry Highschool.
The sounds of his heavy boots hitting the linoleum floor echoed through the empty hall as he made his way to his math class. Victor was right; Mrs. Densen was going to throw a bitch fit that he was late, but he didn't care. He wouldn't have cared on a normal day, but on this day, with the police sniffing around and you practically breathing down his neck, he cared even less—which he didn't even know was possible.
He pulled open the door to the classroom, a hush falling over the students as he entered. Most stared at him wide-eyed, some avoided looking at him altogether, and he briefly caught Vic looking at him with sympathy. The teacher, however, was glaring at him, her arms crossed over her chest.
"Mr. Hockstetter, late again I see," she said pointedly. "You've earned yourself a detention after school today." Patrick stifled a laugh as he made his way to his seat at the very back of the classroom. "Is something funny?" She asked, her tone displaying clear annoyance.
"Yeah, that you think I care," he rolled his eyes, slipping into his desk. He tuned out whatever lecture the teacher decided to give him after that. His gaze drifted to the empty desk in the front row— the one you used to sit at.
"Don't go feeling remorseful now," you said into his ear. He felt your arm around his shoulders as you leaned down, your face positioned next to his. He turned to look at you, and you turned to look at him, your faces almost touching.
your breath fanned across his face, the moment oddly intimate until you grinned at him, opening your mouth and emitting an ear piercing scream.
"Ah," he grunted in pain, his eyes screwing shut, and his hands gripping his ears. It felt like his eardrums were seconds away from bursting and causing blood to pour out of his ears. "Shut the fuck up!" He yelled, the room, and you, falling dead silent immediately after the words left him.
He peeled his eyes open, his hands falling as he looked around. "Excuse me, Mr. Hockstetter," the teacher gasped, clearly taken aback by his outburst. "Take yourself to the principal's office right this instant!" She ordered him.
His blood began to boil as he stood up abruptly, storming out of the classroom and slamming the door behind him. He was getting very very sick and tired of your little games. He headed toward the back door of the school, not wanting to cross paths with Henry's dad.
"This doesn't look like the way to the principal's office," you mused, appearing beside him. He stopped, turning to shove you against the locker. He groaned when his arms made contact with the locker instead of your body, and your laugh echoed behind him. "You think you can hurt me, how cute."
He let out a frustrated groan, smashing his fists against the locker. He couldn't stand you. He couldn't stand having someone that he couldn't manipulate or hurt but that could manipulate and hurt him. "What do you want with me?" He asked, refusing to look at you.
"To break you," you grinned. "To have you begging for it to stop."
Yeah, right he thought.
He was Patrick fucking Hockstetter; he didn't beg. He didn't bend to the will of others, especially not some dead bitch. He was determined not to let you win. You would eventually get tired of tormenting him and go back to wherever the fuck you came from. He was sure of it.
Oh, how he underestimated your patience and overestimated his resilience.
He lasted exactly a week. A week of you screaming and poking and scratching and fucking with his head. A week of people staring at him like he was insane with his random outbursts and talking to the air. A week of torment before you finally had him right where you wanted him.
"Just leave me alone!" He begged, standing in the middle of his room with his head in his hands. You had finally drove him to the brink of insanity, and he didn't know how much longer he could live like this. You, being everywhere all the time, taunting and touching and teasing, it was too much for him. He couldn't take it anymore. "Go away!"
You tsked, grinning at him, that condescending grin that filled him with indescribable rage. How could you look at him like that? Like he was stupid? You were the stupid one. You were killed by him not the other way around!
"I'm afraid that's not how this works," you told him, shaking your head slightly. "I get to stay until you give me what I want." You took a step, punctuating the next words you said with a pause between each one and another step forward. "However. Long. It. Takes."
"What the fuck do you want from me?" He yelled, desperate to get you away from him forever.
"Well," you drawled, running your index finger along his chest, making him flinch. You smiled at the effect you had on him. He talked a big game, getting mad when you left—cursing, throwing things, even—having the audacity to fuck himself to the thought of your murder— but when it came to being face to face with you, he cowered away.
Ain't nothing like a little fear to make a paper man crumble as Henry Bowers' father once said.
"I'll be nice and give you a choice," you said darkly. "You can turn yourself in," you almost laughed at the way his demeanor hardened. "Which we both know you're too proud and stubborn to do," you continued. The intrigue behind Patrick's eyes was undeniable as he eagerly awaited his second choice. "Or," you trailed off, grabbing a razor from his dresser and holding it in front of his face. "You can die."
"You're a crazy bitch!" He shouted, though his inability to mask the tremble in his voice made him sound less than threatening.
"Maybe," you shrugged, admiring the sharp piece of metal. "Hmm," you hummed. "I wonder how you'll feel about me in another week," you asked thoughtfully. "I bet you'll be wishing you took the chance while you had it."
His jaw clenched at your words. He'd already lost a considerable amount of sleep because of you, and the thought of you tormenting him any longer was a fate worse than death. "Why don't you just kill me?" He asked defeatedly. You'd backed him into a corner that he was positive he couldn't get out of without doing things your way.
"I'm not you, Patrick," you spat hatefully. "I don't kill people or things."
"What? Like driving me to suicide is any better?" He scoffed, challenging your sense of superiority over him.
"You have an informed choice," you told him, trying to regain your calm. You didn't like losing your temper, especially not to the likes of Patrick Hockstetter, scum of the earth. "That's a luxury you didn't extend to me."
He eyed the blade in your hand warily. He didn't like accepting defeat. He would never admit to killing you. Being confined to a tiny room, unable to satiate that burning itch deep inside him whenever he needed; it would drive him mad.
"Go on," you urged him softly, holding the razor out for him to take. "Put yourself out of your misery. End it all and be free."
He looked between you and the blade hesitantly, a million thoughts running through his mind as he tried to make a decision. Glaring at you, he took the blade. A scowl formed on his face as he observed the triumphant expression that you seemed to wear immediately after he made his choice.
"Two deep cuts, and you'll never have to see me again," you assured him. That all but sealed the deal. Patrick didn't believe in heaven or hell and death didn't scare him. Being caged like one of the many animals he's so cruelly killed scared him more than dying. He walked over to his bed, sitting on the edge.
He sucked in a breath, pressing the blade into his wrist and dragging it upward toward his inner elbow. He clenched his teeth, deeply inhaling through them. A groan of pain fell from his lips as he felt the warm blood begin seeping from his wound, running down his arms and onto his jeans. He continued the action on the other arm, feeling nauseous and lightheaded.
The blade fell from his trembling fingers, clattering to the floor as he fell back onto the bed. His head felt foggy, and the pain began to melt away into numbness. His eyes began to droop, and he faintly saw your outline standing above him.
He just barely felt you lean down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. His ears began to ring as his eyes fell shut. The words you spoke next were the last he would hear before his heart slowed to an eventual stop. He almost couldn't make them out, the sound muffled, as if he was underwater, but his mind used its last bit of energy to process them before giving out.
"Goodbye, Patrick Hockstetter," you said softly. "May you burn in hell."
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tags! : @fatfagsj , @mysticalhills , @simpingforthe80s , @slasherho , @pinkpanther-44 , @slaggylemon , @kyranisnotdead , @ladydragiiss ,
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Aita for blocking a friend on instinct? So i (f16) have this friend, (m16) we can call him D, who i've been friends with since kindergarten.
About a year ago, i started growing very close to D through our friend group's dnd campaign we held every friday. I knew him for a long time but that was the first time we had started hanging out out of school. We were talking on snapchat every night just chatting and after a while he started to send much more... revealing snaps. Just his bare shoulders but like without a shirt. He said it was because he had to let his medication for his back dry. I was a little uncomfortable, but we were friends so i didnt think that it would escalate into anything weird.
After about a month, D starts sending snaps in a towel and pictures of his chest which made me very uncomfortable. I kind of let the chatting die down after that because it was the only way i could think of that would be enough to gently let him down easy (i was wrong). I stopped going to the hangouts with that group and kind of distanced myself because how uncomfortable D made me. This only made D try harder to get my attention.
I was still friends with the others in the group so i would often have one-on-one hangouts with the others and watch tv. One thing we watched was Miraculous and we laughed and joked about it all the time. D overheard us or something and went home and binge watched the entire series in a week. Then everytime i ate lunch with that friend group, D would always make direct references to Miraculous or sing the theme song really loud. This wasnt once a day, D would make miraculous references every single minute. He became obsessed with the show (which, for reference of how weird it was, D is a very religious Christian boy. He gets upset if he gets an A- and never drinks caffeine (no problem with any of those things but just understand that kind of guy being deep within the fandom of Miraculous out of all shows 😭)). It was so bad, and it once again was making me very uncomfortable.
Eventually, it got to an insufferable point where D changed his route to go home and made sure to pass me every day after school and wave. I started avoiding him in the halls, he would always ask obscure questions that werent that important. I couldn't understand why he couldn't get that i didnt want to be friends with him anymore so i set boundaries.
A text i sent to D: i apologize if i ever caused any misunderstanding, but i would like to make it clear that im not romantically interested in you. i can see that you have been trying to grow closer, but i dont feel the same way. i don't appreciate being followed around, and i dont like when people force themselves to like the same things i like. its not attractive to be a copy of someone. i enjoy being your friend but it's difficult to disregard these things. if im being totally honest, when you do things like this, it makes me really uncomfortable and borderline creeped out. i know crushes wont disappear overnight but i would appreciate more space. if youre looking for a girlfriend, this isnt the right person, nor the right way to get it. and i wont tell anyone about this so dont worry about word spreading or anything. thank you
D's response: Oh, I'm so sorry I made you think that! I don't have a crush on you, I just noticed how you don't hang out with our friend group as often and I just wanted to make sure that I was being as nice as possible to make sure you weren't mad at us or anything. I did start to think that maybe me trying all that made me seem clingy or annoying, so I'm really sorry for all of that. Thanks for bringing this to my attention, I'll try to do better now!
This didnt sit right with me because after all of that i cannot fathom how that translates to "i wanted to include you". This made me question a lot about the situation.
Reasons i feel like i MBTA: i'm over thinking things and D could be a genuinely a nice person. Its hard for me to read the room and i need to work on that and probably apologize to D.
Reasons i feel like i MNBTA: i should trust my instincts rather than ignore them. I've had a psychological abuser in my family before and the situation could be a stalker behavior that i've learned is not ok to have.
What are these acronyms?
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minnielvr · 7 months
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DIE FOR YOU - chapter 16 : "oh."
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you arrived quickly at intaks dorm with 2 bags full of snacks. you knocked on the door an he let you in, you went to put the snacks on the coffee table in front of the couch while he popped some popcorn. once everything was set up you guys sat on the couch and turned on the tv.
"so what are we watching?" you turned to him and asked.
"oh...i was just gonna let you pick." he shrugged.
"ooohh okay lets watch spiderman then!!" you snatched the remote from him and started to type in spiderman on the streaming platform.
"NO! no way. im sick and tired of that guy," he grabbed the remote back, "lets watch a horror movie." he thought it would make you scared and that would give him an advantage to hug you or something. but he forgot that you actually liked horror movies.
"oh c'mon those are sooo boring!! if you don't like spiderman then lets watch something like mean girls." you suggested.
"but we watch that every time the whole gang gets together." he whined.
"then what do we watch intak!?!?!" you threw your arms up with an exasperated sigh.
"the breakfast club?" he stuck up an eyebrow. he knew you loved that movie.
"aww you know me so well." you cooed and pinched his cheeks and took the remote from him.
a few minutes later the movie was on and you guys were munching on some snacks, laughing and commenting on the characters. everything was going smoothly for about an hour or so until intak had decide he needed to use the bathroom.
"hey imma use the bathroom real quick let me pause it" he reached to your hand that had the remote."
"noooo i'll just rewind it when you come back okay?" you didn't really want to pause it and then have to go on your phone or something.
"oh my god y/n give it to me!" he got up on his knees to reach for it.
"nuh uh!" you stuck up your arm as high as you could.
intak went forward on his knees and reached out his arms, but due to the couch cushions being squishy, he fell down. on top of you.
both of you were shocked, looking into each others eyes for about 15 seconds until he started to inch down closer to your face. his eyes were stuck on your lips, then he kissed you. and your eyes went wide.
you were waiting to feel something, anything. maybe a little spark or for your heart to skip a beat. but he just wasn't hyunjin. and thats what you hated about this whole situation, everything around you was suddenly about him.
"i-i have to go." you pushed him off and went to the front door to put on your shoes. not even bothering to grab the snacks you had bought.
"wait y/n-" intak got up off the couch and called out. but you had already shut the door.
you were walking back to your own dorm trying to figure out what had just happened. intak liked you? or maybe it was just a heat of the moment thing. whatever it was, you didn't know how to feel about it.
you stepped inside your dorm with a distressed look to see yunjin and keeho sitting together on the couch. they obviously noticed your mood.
"hey whats wrong?" yunjin asked as you went to sit next to her.
"me and intak kissed." you admitted, eyes looking down in your lap.
"oh." both yunjin and keeho muttered out at the same time.
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arriansarchive · 10 months
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Peter B Parker/Male!Reader
Im crying over this, but I made it, so it's okay
I really like the idea of canon events
I might make like a lot of these just with different characters
Warnings: major character death, uhhh yeah death pretty much it
Words: 1069
This can be seen as either romantic or platonic I really don't care
More Spider Society HQ living quarters AU
LISTEN.. I know this probably isn't how canon events work, and it needs to be in your own universe blah blah, but I do what I want with my stories
Sooo enjoy this
Summary: Your canon event is watching Peter die.
"Y/N L/N and Peter B. Parker?" Miguel called out through the wide room.
It was time for new missions and apparently you and Peter had gotten chosen. Miguel explained the mission was in earth 10009, Dublin Ireland.
If you were being honest your favorite part of the job was being able to see the sights while fighting some unknown creature or villain.
You heard that Ireland was a pretty scenic place, so you were excited.
"Y/N, you ready?" Peter asked after you both had emerged from your respective rooms.
"As ready as I'll ever be." You reply.
Peter pressed some buttons on his watch and right before you the big orange portal appeared. It glitched and moved a little with each malfunction, but it was stable.
He looked at you with a small smile before walking into it. With a loud sputter, it swallowed him whole. You grinned wickedly and ran in after him.
The portal spun you and shot you through paths of color and shapes and into the present day world of Ireland.
Whenever you saw Peter, almost immediately you heard crashes from across the way. You saw all sorts of pubs and shops in a line. Bridges and tall buildings.
But above all you saw the big, pitch black creature that was haunting the buildings with it's huge claws.
The windows were being crashed into by the sharp talons, and the beast's feet were crushing the roads below it.
You shoved your mask over your head quickly and started to run and glide over the group towards the giant monster
The people began running away swiftly, but the creature was catching up with a few.
"I'll get the people out of here!" Peter yelled from beside you in the chaos.
"Be careful!" You shouted back and continued springing web after web towards the beast. You got closer with every move, and you didn't feel one ounce of anxiety.
Once you got to the monster, you flung into it at full speed. You dropped your web from on top the buildings and slammed into the creature's face.
It wailed out in pain as your foot went into its eye. You bounced back onto a building and stayed there for a moment while the monster regained it's composure.
You decided you were going to try and lead the monster away from the general public.
The massive creature took one of its claws and ripped out a chunk of a brick building. You stared on in wide eyes, quickly going into action once it wound it's arm back for attack.
You shot out webs to bind the brick to the wall of the building, but the beast was too strong. The chunk went wailing out into the daylight.
You looked down to the ground to see nobody but your partner, Peter.
He was scanning the area for anymore lost children or elderly he had failed to get out the first sweep. Peter looked up just in time to see the boulder of brick coming down towards him.
You hurdled to get down to his level, trying to save him from getting crushed. You narrowly avoid it yourself with your hands hooked under his arms.
You realize that his lower body and some of the upper was crushed beneath the brick. You suck in a shallow breath of surprise.
You turn your body so he could see you, and you could see the damage done to him.
You quickly call the HQ on your watch. "We need backup now." You said and immediately hung up after.
"Shit, Peter." You breath, taking in his situation.
"No, I'm fine. Don't worry." He tried to pull his body up and out of the rubble, but he coughed instead. "The coughing probably isn't a good sign." Peter muttered.
"We have to get you back to the headquarters." You frantically shook your head.
He grabbed your shoulder and laughed a bit solemnly. "It's fine; stop worrying so much, Y/N."
"It's already over. My time as Spiderman I mean." He murmured.
"Hell no it's not. Mayday needs her dad. I need a friend. Miles needs his mentor! You can't die yet." You yell. "I won't let you die without you fulfilling your purpose of Spiderman."
"What's that purpose, Y/N? Is it failing my wife for the second time? Is it failing everybody I know?"
You saw blood start to slip out of the sides of the brick, and Peter's eyes seemed to get weaker and more droopy.
"Tell me what I'm supposed to do, Peter! Tell me how I can save you." You cry out.
He smiled a little. "Tell Miles, my wife, and Mayday that I love them." Peter whispered.
Your heart dropped into your stomach as the life drained from your friend, and his blood seemed to seep into your veins and to your heart.
The moment hit you that you would never be on a mission with Peter B Parker ever again, that Mayday would never see her dad again.
Even if Miles isn't here anymore, if he ever was to come back he would only see his mentor as a picture on the wall in the HQ.
Peter's wife would be devastated at the demise of her husband and would shelter away at the loss of her first love.
Tears started leaking out of your eyes just as you heard yelling and shooting webs. The backup you called was finally here whenever it was too late.
"Y/N, what the hell happened?" You heard Jess yell.
You couldn't respond and only sob into your blood covered hands. You felt a hand on your back that could have only been her's.
Though it did nothing to console you it was nice to have a human being by your side. You don't think anything could console you.
And that is how you stand today, universe still intact, Peter still dead.
Your canon event had been played out, and Miles Morales finally walked into the Spider Society HQ with Gwen Stacy.
Just as you predicted he asked about the picture, and just as you predicted he was taken aback. You could do nothing but stare.
Nobody told him that you had watched his mentor die, and you were grateful, but a part of you wishes that you could have consoled him just like nobody could've on that day with you.
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thewomancallednova · 9 months
Text
Some spoiler-y obervations on today's SNW episode, "Hegemony":
I'm really glad we got to see an adult Gorn that looks more humanoid. When Sam found those anomalous human readings I was really concerned they'd go with a "TOS Gorn a weird Human-Gorn hybrids" thing.
ERICA GOT TO SAY MULTIPLE SENTENCES IM SO HAPPY
I was 100% sure Batel was gonna die when she made a log entry at the start :D Pleasently surprised by how that went
I kinda wish the Gorn weren't such a drawn-out plot with SNW. The feeling I'm getting is that they're just doing "Arena" but with eight episodes scattered over three seasons and I don't really see how that's gonna be better than "Arena". For what it's worth I'd love to get a closer look at how Gorn society in SNW actually works, like how did y'all build those spaceships if you keep cannibalising everyone. And to this episode's credit they did tease in that direction.
Definitely more on board with Scotty by the end of the episode than at the start. I really hope we can keep Carol Kane next season and have her mentor Scotty. I like what SNW has done with Spock, Uhura, Chapel and M'Benga; so I'm optimistic about Scotty, but my first instinct whenever a new major TOS character appears is generally to groan.
How exactly does a demarcation line within a solar system? Like, I'm no physicist, but don't planets usually rotate around stars? Wouldn't that shift planets in and out of Gorn/Federation territory depending on the time of year? Incidentally, there's a Trek novel (by Peter David of course) that explores that exact situation, where a planet is in (IIRC) Tholian territory for two days every year.
Pike's voice when he says "Spock" after seeing the destroyed Caygua is just TT
Seeing Pike interrupt Battel's mission here with a subspace phone call, I wish we'd see that more often the other way around. "Sorry honey, can't talk right now I have to make the pirates revolt against their captain, I'll call you back later okay?"
Love the music cues reminiscent of TOS. And I'm glad in general that the post-Berman Trek shows got to recover from the "sonic wallpaper" directive.
The Starfleet delta pattern on the space suits is really distracting. Like, I know I'm supposed to look at how they're hand-holding but wow, that is a lot of deltas!
It kinda rubs me the wrong way that Spock and Chapel killed the Gorn on the Cuyaga, just when the planetside story gets all about how maybe we can talk with the Gorn. Probably doesn't help that the Gorn took like ten seconds to suffocate and seemed to be in excruciating pain throughout. Like, c'mon Chapel, shoot him already, it's be more merciful.
I think SNW is actually quite clever with connecting its Gorn continuity to that of TOS. The SNW Gorn ships like very different from the TOS ones, which is great because in "Arena" no one recognizes the new ship. The Gorn are only revealed as the perpetrators in conversation with the Metrons, so I think it's feasable that Kirk just doesn't know of them (as long as his relationship with La'an doesn't get any further) and the rest of the crew didn't want to interrupt during the conversation with the seemingly very powerful Metrons. After Kirk is teleported by the Metrons Uhura screams, because 60s show (she should be used to teleportation right, being in Starfleet), but the SNW retcon that she knows of the Gorn and their horrors really gives that moment new depth and makes it less silly.
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kavehnanginto · 1 year
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encounter
08: manipulate, mansplain, malewife
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You didn't know how exactly you manage to be in this situation.
"I am not going to do that." I argued back to the stoic man behind my back.
"Yes you will."
It has been three hours in this goddamn library and both of you can't stand to reach an agreement. Not that you had any choice in thid matter, he knows that and you do to, but let's pretend you do.
"I'm not going back there." I promised at his face and he didn't even bother to answer. He's so mean and bad and ughh... kinda hot.
"And I'm going to tell everybody."
"Blackmail is a crime remember."
"Not when your reputation's already in the depths of hell." He faced you and saw how confused and persistant you are regarding this issue. In truth he didn't actually bother to say what happened between the both of you, and he didn't know why people made such a big deal regarding what happened.
But Alhaitham usually adjusts in the environment he is in. Whether it be the slipper situation regarding his thesis or your hole. He had no problem coming up on top.
"I would rather die than see his stupid blond hair. Do you know how that guy talks it's worse than you! And that's the worst insult I can ever make to him." Inching closer to his ear you whispered.
"But you were better in bed."
And for the very first time you saw him fume in anger, I mean blush in heat.
"Look if you really don't want to the deal is off."
"Do I get to fuck you again?" And now you start like the stereotypical whore people could've associated with if you listend to Scaramouche's advice. "No right. Anyways you rarely talk with your blond hottie so of course I also dont."
Alhaitham might kill you but you will never ever go back to Mondstadt again. And not in that stupid fucking laboratory where he mystically decided you would make an excellent english major.
Albedo kinda ruined your life there, but hey he was a good kisser.
"I'll let you copy off my quiz in the exam...."
Goddammit.
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encounter: prev. masterlist. next.
alhaitham x reader smau
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synopsis: after alhaitham accepted to tutor his token dumb classmate, the whole school started rumors and gossip to the unknown reason as to why while you were stuck dealing with him after that embarrassing encounter.
taglist: @annathea-annoona @aixaingela @mimihwgsajjs @no3hg3nshin @winterpein @crowbird @aloversoath @liminalimmortal @mochicurls21 @jjkclub @sukunasrealgf
note: very short but im also very busy so so sorry hope you enjoy still
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straykidzstay · 10 months
Text
Live For Me
WARNING TALKS ABOUT SUICIDE AND DEATH
Im back at it again with another angsty sad MinhoXFReader. Why do i keep putting him in traumatic situations? I have no clue tbh. Hope you guys like it thank you for all the support. Again im sorry if this hurts anyone at least it ends happy...
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You stood on the roof of your apartment building allowing the wind of the oncoming storm to whip you in the face. The weight you felt on your shoulders was far too heavy for you to handle. A few days earlier you had gotten the news that your sister’s life was taken. To say the two of you were close would be an understatement. She was your favorite person in the world. Without her to be the light in your darkness you were lost. Not being close to very many people all you really had was your sister and your best friend Minho. 
You've always had a small voice in your head, it has been there longer than you could remember. A voice that would pick you apart continuously telling you where worthless. A voice you could ignore because your sister’s voice was louder. If you left her it would affect her, but now she was gone and it affected you. When you were younger you and your therapist had devised a coping mechanism. When you want to die think ‘would i want the people who are important to me to see me like that’. You didn't think about yourself no you always thought of others. Now that the one person that kept you grounded to this earth is gone. 
Who would care if I was gone? The only other person would be Minho, but he has his own life. He has other people he can depend on. You and your sister had each other, that was it. Since you told him the news Minho has been there for you but being who you are didnt want to burden him with this. He was a busy person and he wouldn't even have time to miss you. Earlier you canceled plans with him, not something you usually did. He was going to come over to cook and spend the night. He was offering you a distraction but sadly nothing was going to make you forget the pain you felt.
Walking to the ledge of the building you continued to let you mind race. She would tell me to go inside, you thought. ‘She’s not here anymore’ the voice in your head pushed. “She’s not here anymore.” you repeated this out loud in a small voice that got lost in the wind. I said goodbye to Minho last night when he hugged me. I lingered in his arms longer than normal. ‘Because you already knew’ Shaking your head at that statement from deep within your mind. “I knew it was going to be the last time I hugged him.” You said this letting your mind wander.
You thought about all the times you spent with your best friend. All the times you fell asleep on him, cooked, cuddled, and laughed together. He would probably be devastated to never see you again. He was a busy person you thought again he would get past it. Right? ‘He wouldn't notice.’ The voice whispered to you, making your stomach drop. “He wouldn't notice.” you repeated out loud. Taking a deep breath you stood up on the ledge. ‘Do it. Jump!’ the voice repeated itself over and over again louder each time. Just as you went to raise your foot to jump from the ledge a voice stopped you.
“Y/N!” It was Minho, “Please! What are you doing?!” He frantically spoke to you as he approached the ledge.
Turning to face him you could see the fear written across his features. “Please, go home.” You said this as he continued to get closer, shaking his head. 
“I'm not leaving.”
“I can't do this without her!” You let your grief flow through you. “Just let me do this!” he tried to grab your arm causing you to move away stumbling slightly. Wobbling you regained your balance.
“Please get down, I don't want you to fall.” He said this in a broken voice.
“You'll be fine.” You said this looking back down to the ground at the bottom of the building. “You don't need me Minho. Please leave.” Your words dripped with poison. You heard Minho’s footsteps come up beside you before looking over to see him climbing to join you on the ledge. You were shocked looking at him with wide eyes. “What are you doing!? Get down!” You yelled at him frantically.
“If you're gonna jump I might as well jump too!” You could tell he was terrified his words sounded broken and desperate. 
Shaking your head at his statement filled you with rage. “You have too much to live for! You'd be stupid to throw your life away for me! Your fans, Music, Your cats, your family, and friends!” You yelled at him pointing out all the reasons he had to live like you had found him the way he found you.
“All of that is pointless without you dont you understand that Y/N!” He ran a hand through his hair glancing at the ground then back at you. “You'd be stupid to think I wouldn't choose you over any of that! If I don't have you, nothing matters!” 
Shaking your head at him you allowed tears to fill your eyes. “I don't understand. Why do I matter so much?” He looked at you like you were supposed to know.
“I'm in love with you Y/N.” You froze like you were a deer caught in headlights. He’s in love with you. “I thought i made it clear enough but hell i've never been good at this!”  He said this, stepping carefully as he inched his way closer to you. Still staring at him you couldn't move, nor could you find words to describe the mess that was your feelings. “I've never been good at telling you how beautiful I think you are. I never show you affection like I should always saying I'm protecting you by not giving in.” He continued to inch closer as he poured his heart out. “There's been so many times where I wanted to break, ruin our friendship for the sake of my emotions. I couldn't do that. I felt like I would be more important to you if we stayed the way we were.”
He was now standing directly in front of you. You could see the stains his tears left on his face. His eyes looked empty and strained, not their usual warm tone that made your heart flutter. He was shaking as he reached out and grabbed your hand. “If this is it then i need to tell you i've been in love with you since the day you met the cats. I fell in love with you more everyday since then even in this moment. This ridiculously crazy moment I can't help but feel my heart beating faster and slower all at the same time. I feel pings in my stomach of butterflies i dont get from anyone else.” He said this, squeezing your hand as he stepped closer to you. “I wake up everyday because of you. I can make it through the stress of my life as long as you tell me it'll be okay. Please don't leave me, not like this. As selfish as it sounds, please live for me.” 
You could see tears fall slowly down Minho’s face as you reached your hand out to cup his face. Wiping a tear away with your thumb you stepped closer looking into his eyes. So close to him you could feel his warm breath on your face. You studied his features, how eyebrows were knotted together. How his eyes searched all over your face but rested on your lips. Drawing your attention to his, you've always thought about what it would be like to kiss Minho. He leaned his head slowly to meet yours, kissing you softly. 
Closing your eyes you kissed his back as the rain started coming down. The sudden cold sprinkled causing you to break away from the kiss. You looked up laughing something you haven't done in days. He smiled and began laughing with you looking up at the sky. Looking back to him you squeezed his hand. “Can we go inside?” He smiled at you carefully stepping off the ledge.
“I thought you'd never ask.” He offered his hand to you, helping you down. Before walking inside he pulled you into a tight hug. “I love you Y/N.”
Nuzzling your head into his neck as you wrapped your arms tightly around him. “I love you too.” 
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berryunho · 1 year
Text
on seonghwa
this is just 800 words of me rambling about seonghwa (and a little hongjoong) in the answer so feel free to ignore or read for a glimpse into his noggin but there are... minor ??? spoilers lol i don't really think they're spoilers which is why im fine sharing them but ANYWAYS yeah beware ig ...
and shoutout bffie @mintsang this is for you don't yell at me when you read it <333333
ANYWAYS:
listen. seonghwa is so devoted to hongjoong because he feels responsible for him. when they first met seonghwa thought hongjoong was just some poor kid being beat by his parents and he decided that he would make sure that hongjoong didn’t die or go to jail or flunk out of school as long as they were friends. and at first of course hongjoong was quite… tame… w his personality shall we say so seonghwa really had no idea what the fuck he was getting into w him. and anyways by the time he put two and two together and realized that, ‘oh, maybe hongjoong is the problem!’ it was waaaayyyyy too late. like… he feels almost responsible for everything getting out of hand bc he definitely could’ve stopped him at some point but didn’t because he couldn’t bear hongjoong telling him to go or not wanting him at his side anymore so he just kept his mouth shut even as things got worse and worse. 
like seonghwa was a very normal and rational person before hongjoong got his talons into him. and this still haunts him. seonghwa really does mourn the loss of his innocence but… at the same time… he wouldn’t go back to change anything if he could. because he loves hongjoong. even knowing that hongjoong has only ever used him for his own gain and even knowing that hongjoong is like a textbook abuser he can’t make himself regret anything that he’s ever done for him. because he will always remember what it felt like to be that 14 year old boy watching his friend be rejected by everyone else and the feeling that he was the only one that could care enough to stay w him. and seonghwa knows its stupid but he’s scared that one day everything will fall apart for hongjoong and if he’s not there for it hongjoong simply won’t survive. 
so even though he knows hongjoong only wants him for selfish reasons he’s okay w that so long as hongjoong wants him somehow. and this is where our dear mc comes in. on one hand seonghwa is obviously jealous that hongjoong suddenly has someone else to give his freaky ass microscopic focus to. and on the other he’s pissed that she won’t just give hongjoong want he wants (even if what hongjoong wants is the opposite of what he wants). and on the other he’s scared FOR her bc no matter how strong she seems he’s sure that she’ll break to him eventually and seonghwa really doesn’t want to see what happened to himself happen again in another person. and on the other (4 hands is the normal amount idk what you’re talking about) he’s confusingly into her and he can’t understand why or how but he suspects its the fact that she’s also being subjected to the same. essentially torture. that is hongjoong’s desire/manipulation/whatever and he feels oddly connected to her…
so i wouldn’t say seonghwa hates mc nor does he really care about her he just is very conflicted about her and doesn’t know whether to be cold for his own sake or if he should be trying to get closer w her because this is really his first opportunity to have someone that understands hongjoong with him.
and anyways yeah even if seonghwa wanted to leave (he doesn’t) he wouldn’t because he feels responsible for hongjoong’s wellbeing (even though he knows this is foolish). and yeah maybe this is a bombshell or whatever but seonghwa couldn’t care less about the cult shit he’s just happy that hongjoong is happy and safe and not out in the real world wreaking havoc where he could get his ass caught a million times faster. so seonghwa deals with it to keep the situation somewhat under control for hongjoong’s sake. and while he’s not a fan of the crimes and the murder he also doesn’t particularly care either because he would do anything to keep hongjoong safe and he already thinks of himself as a lost cause anyhow. 
and this might be bold but here’s a little something on hongjoong too. hongjoong… is attached to seonghwa shall we say. like he never meant to be and he hates that he cares even a little bit so he keeps that shit on LOCK. as we’ve discussed he doesn’t love seonghwa bc he straight up cannot but if seonghwa decided to pack his shit and leave hongjoong WOULD be affected and he’d try to stop him duh but would he actually be able to kill him. probably not. so ANYWAYS hongjoong is a freak about mc for so many reasons but part of it is that he’s horrified (more so pissed) by the fact that he suddenly cares about someone and is desperate to prove to himself that he can control someone at a personal level without getting attached to them. which. we’ll see. LOL
SO YEAH THAT’S SEONGHWA! i could probably write an entire ass prequel about hongjoong and seonghwa and damn maybe i will but lol a lot of this will be clarified/expanded on in interims in the future but i litcherally cannot stop thinking about this rn so TAKE IT !!
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sapphire-weapon · 9 months
Note
Sending this so you have smth to answer that isn't racist children (as a black girl,,,,man these people are too comfy online)
ANYWAY i can't get the idea out of my head for a fic from Ashley's pov where she's incredibly lonely and doesn't trust that anyone actually wants to be around her for her but rather for her status/who she is, and that's why she's super distant with Leon to begin with.
And throughout the game her and Leon start bantering and getting closer and she's like well okay maybe he actually likes me for me, he's already got status, but she's not fully trusting
and then they get flirty and shes like oh god oh fuck i LIKE this guy???? and is like mildly panicky about it (im imagining she's never had an actual relationship bc of the trust issues, slept with people but never anything more) so she like awkwardly flirts back while freaking out about this + the whole, you know, mutant thing
and she convinces herself he's not actually into her and is just trying to keep her mind off everything/insecurities flare up UNTIL we get to the bit where Leon breaks free of Saddler's control for a second and drops to his knees trying to stop him touching Ashley. and she's like ?!?!!!?! oh god this is real he actually cares but it's too late now to do anything bc we're gonna DIE and she thinks all this while unable to move and watches him get thrown into the pit.
if i were to actually write this I'd make it SO angsty and maybe end it at that point lol I love to put my faves in Situations. i probs won't write it so here's an idea if ur interested lol <3
Anon we must be plaga'd or something, because I have had a very similar fic idea in my head for DAYS, only with the roles reversed. Because like... I was thinking about how many times Leon whiffs with his attempts at flirting with Ashley throughout the entirety of the game (he really doesn't actually "crack the code" so to speak until the dining hall convo), and I was like
When was the last time Leon actually got laid?? Why is he so rusty at this, why is he so bad at it at the start when he clearly has game once he, like... remembers how? Why's he out of practice?
And then I started thinking about my headcanon of how Leon probably went out with other guys from the army to pick up girls and stuff and how that probably stopped within a year or two, and I realized... the last time Leon got laid, he probably looked completely different. He was probably still, for the most part, his lean but cut RE2make self, and there's a non-zero chance he has a really minor sense of body dysmorphia because of how much he's changed physically in such a short window of time.
And I was like... you know, there's a shitton of fics of Leon helping Ashley cope with the aftermath of what happened, but I don't think I've ever seen it the other way around. I've never seen a fic where Ashley looks at Leon and goes "you're crazy for thinking no one would want you or want to be with you." And have the whole thing sort of tie back to how Ashley brings out his RE2 self again, and make it so that she helps him just feel like a person again.
And now I get your ask and I'm like
What if I combined these ideas?
What if there's issues on both sides for them to work out together? Ashley's trust issues + Leon's self-worth/self-image issues.
I actually did want to try to explore my initial idea through fic this upcoming weekend (today is my Friday! So I have the next two days off) and now having this to flesh it out more is like 👀👀👀 maybe I got something here.
I'll try to keep u guys posted!!
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kohatenz · 2 years
Text
Baz
Only Simon Snow would think falling from the night sky equates to a date.
Crowley he's brilliant.
He is holding onto me for dear life, and if he doesn't then I'll most definitely die.
Literally a fall from this height would most certainly be the death of my deadness, that's why I'm holding onto my wand for reassurance. Not that I don't trust Simon, which I realize I'm definitely gonna reconsider after today
Because moments ago he asked me if I trusted him, I did,
that was before he dropped me from the sky.
Even so I still trust him with my life, which says more about me because when Simon's involved I'm a hopeless fool.
(l'm still gonna grip onto my wand I just don't want to be unprepared for what ever crazy situations our sweet life always throws our way.)
Gosh the things I do for this boy.
But he's so beautiful tonight, and frankly
I would do this a million times over, just to see him smile like this.
I could probably see him smile like this a million times and it would never ever be enough.
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"Hold onnn" Simon said to me while grinning
His laughter is honestly contagious,
I feel so giddy right now "I ammm" I yell,
I haven't actually smiled like this in such a long time. This is so fun, and I don't want to tell Simon yet because Im still pretending to be mad at him for letting go, and I don't want him to get any stupid (brilliant) ideas for next time.
(I hope there are more next times)
I guess we aren't actually falling,
Gliding would be a better word.
Simons wings extended out in the night air and they glistened under the moon light. His arms tightly holding onto me. His wings flexed out as they motion through the air carrying both of us.
The moon was massive.
I wonder, Should I be thanking the moon?
I mean the moon is partly responsible for this ridiculous situation,
As tonight is the night of a super moon here in London, or I guess the outskirts of London. Gosh I actually have no clue where we are, and I drove halfway here. Simon and I alternated and I had him practice (he's getting really good at driving) and one thing led to another before I knew it he flew us up into the night sky to see the moon up close.
There are so many stars tonight. It reminded me of when he shared his magic, and I casted twinkle twinkle little star together in our dorm room at Watford. It feels like that moment, but better.
Simon doesn't have magic anymore but with him touching me like this, it feels like he's giving apart of himself to me. His warmth, his smile, his love. Which are even more magical. They are things I longed for since I figured out I was in love with him. My Younger self would be so jealous.
Simon Snow was now my boyfriend.
My Simon Snow.
-
No one was out here and Simon could actually fly freely. Watching him like this made me happy, I would stupid all the normals so we could do this more often, and not just tonight.
"Look at the moon Baz, isnt it beautiful" Simon said while he carried me.
The moon was beautiful
The moon was beautiful
Simon was beautiful
I could care less about the moon when my gaze was transfixed on Simon Snow as he carried me princess style. If I was heavy he was definitely not breaking a sweat. His muscles flexed and his shirt (my shirt) looked so good on him.
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"Am I not heavy"
Simon shook his head, "not really"
"If you wana be heavy you should eat like me" Simon smiled and leaned closer into me and bit my ear.
"Ouch, I'm not edible Snow"
you would think Simon was the one with fangs because gosh his teeth are sharp. He leaned in and kissed my ear instead.
"But you smell so good"
"Snow you and your smell fetish will be the death of me"
"But You look so good in my arms like this, we should do this more often."
"Fly in the sky ?" I ask, because I would in a heartbeat. I'd stupid all of London for Simon.
His blue eyes gazed at me searching for what to say next, no, they looked more apologetic.
"Go on a dates" Simon said
A date. He wants to go on more dates. Simon Snow wants to go on more dates!
I am living such a charmed life.
"Yeah,
I'd like that"
My heart has been skipping beats all night. I feel my cheeks blushing, they are probably so visibly red. Gosh this is perfect.
Simon arms started shifting from under me
"Do you trust me
I nod
"Ok I'mma drop you Baz"
"Huh?"
"You ready"
"You wouldn't dare"
Simon smirked,
And then Simon let go
He fuckin let go,
And now my heart is skipping beats in the wrong context. Allester Crowley Simon Snow is a dead man.
"SIMOOOONNN" I scream.
I'm falling in the sky, oh gosh vampires can most definitely not turn into bats! Did Simon forget that.
As I'm falling, I grip my wand about to cast something because of this ridiculous situation, what the heck would I even cast. Worst time for my brain not to work, and then Simon grabbed my arms, and his wing jolted, extending outwards.
His dragon wings were cutting through the air stopping my fall. We were still falling but it felt like it was in slow motion. It felt like (I) was flying.
The idiot was smiling from ear to ear. If I was breathless it was because this idiot took my breath away. He's brilliant.
We weren't falling from the night sky, Simon was gliding in the air like a bird. I guess he basically is a bird with his dragon wings.
I had my wand out just in case, but with Simon being immune to spells I'd be only able to save my arse. I could probably cast a spell were the ground is cushioned soft if something happens. But the way Simon is gripping onto me, I don't think he would let anything happen.
-
"How did you know you could do that" I ask, I'm still mad about him dropping me, but I can't stay mad at him, not right now.
Simon smiled " I saw a youtube video with Sheppard about a bird glidding, so I practiced. So we could do it together! tonight!"
Simon had actually planned this whole thing out and even practiced, he had mentioned the super moon last week and made sure I finished my class work so we could watch it together. I just would have never expected this, I never do know what to expect with Simon.
I know he's excited about this moon but, I'm only watching Simon.
I love him
He's been trying, trying to be the best, worst boyfriend I could ever ask for.
I bet no one's ever been on a date like this. It's the perfect type of date, that works only for us
and I can't imagine it any other way.
Simon pulls me closer
And
kisses me
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I wrap my arm around his hair and another around his back. He's holding me and Kissing me, while we both gracefully fall from the sky.
"I love you Baz"
"Me too Simon"
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bonefall · 1 year
Note
Now I'm just seeing Thornclaw in Ashfur's place. Thanks Erins. X_X no wonder it felt like Ashfur changed personalities from TPB to TNP. He was so worried for Cloudpaw as an apprentice...but he also didn't want to tell, either.
nooOOOOOOOOOOO THAT'S THE WORST THING I CAN THINK OF
STOP MAKING ME SEE INTO THIS DARK TIMELINE WHERE THORNCLAW WAS ASHFUR IM SCREAMINGG
yeah anyway Ashfur in TPB is a lot more sweet and gentle. His only 'harsh' action is wanting revenge for his mother, but... I'm not going to act like that's an unreasonable thing to want lmao. It's actually Normal to want to smash the kneecaps of the dude who brutally killed your mom and fed her to wild animals don't @ me
In fact he's actually (COMPLETELY BASED ON HIS PORTRAYAL IN TPB I AM NOT AN ASHFUR APOLOGIST) more trustworthy than Brambleclaw before the writers picked him to be the traitor working with Hawkfrost...
he stuck his neck out to lie for Cloudpaw a million times
he was one of the few people to push back against the narrative that Cloudpaw left of his own will... even though fireheart and sandstorm were there... and heard him shouting "ARGH IM BEING KIDNAPPED! THIS IS AGAINST MY WILL! I DO NOT WANT TO BE IN THE SITUATION THAT I AM IN CURRENTLY!"
he readily takes part in the plan to kill the dogs and fight BloodClan no questions asked
Like... what I'm getting at is, if Ashfur was closer to TPB's Ashpaw, he would have kept the secret of that parentage without so much as a whimper. TPB Ashpaw is a ride or die kind of guy.
Buuuuut that said I love Ashfur as a villain in TBC, so, I can't really complain. I think losing Cool Dude Ashpaw was worth it for the Villain Ashfur we eventually got, ngl.
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bonesandthebees · 1 year
Note
thoughts and questions that didnt get in my comments bc I needed to let them bounce around my brain for a bit 1/?
please don't feel bad for using the bird metaphor so much, it's cool and I think it also works really well with the unreliable narrator thing where wilbur can translate the birds actions in one way, warped by his pythia training or denial or coping, while the reader, thinking different, can translate it in the different (and I think the right) meaning
wilbur says the bird shrieked (in ch10) bc tommy liking him was wrong, I think it's bc it's what the bird yearns for and it's a sing of happiness, recognition, he wants to be loved and cared about (like he deserves and never got)
is it just me or does it kinda feel like part of wilbur wants them to kill him so he won't have to do it himself?
yes he is scared of dying. even of the deathlings killing him, but
we know he's scared that clara will ask him to kill himself and that hes not sure if he could do it (that means he wouldnt be able to do it, which im super grateful for)
and I know he's trying to make sense of his situation and why the deathlings are acting like they are and killing him would be the logical choice
but also I noticed that he keeps mentioning the killing to the deathlings very often and phil was right about him basically suggesting it in that argument and it kinda makes me feel like he (probably mostly subconsciously) wants the deathlings to kill him just so he won't have to face the disappointment if clara asks him to kill himself which he internally knows he wouldnt be able to do (in wilburs mind its more of a question of when bc he believes that clara will want to get rid of him now that he failed to escape)
the talk about wilburs life in the palace, his (lack of) power, excluding himself from the rich and you mentioning here on tumblr how wilbur and schlatt used to be closer and on more equal level before schlatt became the emperor made me realise how little we actually know about wilburs life in the palace
we know schlatt didnt listen to him, he had to wear the blindfold and everyone saw him more as a thing than a person, but what did he do in all the free time?
aaa thank you I'm glad the bird metaphor is working out well and isn't being overused lol. I'm definitely still figuring out the balance with using long metaphors throughout an entire piece. it definitely is really fun to look at as wilbur pushing his feelings off onto something else so he can deny them as his own
hmm if they made the decision to kill him it certainly would make things a lot easier for wilbur now wouldn't it because he wouldn't have to confront anything himself... but he's also still afraid of dying in general. in his mind he knows it's the 'right' option, but he also doesn't want to die. so if he's confronted with it, he's going to back down and be terrified no matter how much he tells himself it's his 'duty' or it's easier for everyone.
he actually did have a lot of advisorial duties like sitting in on meetings with schlatt's council to stay updated on what was going on in the country, meeting regularly with the priests of clara and leading worship rituals, and of course meeting with schlatt on a near daily basis even if he didn't have a vision the night before just to have a 'check-in' of sorts with how things were going. when he wasn't doing any of this though, he would often read history books on the history of the country or the history of clara worship. he'd also just read a lot of educational books besides history texts, like for science and maths as well. also I like to think there was a piano in his quarters, so he learned how to play piano and would spend a lot of his free time practicing. (he's never done much singing though.)
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coneheda · 1 year
Note
84 and 89 I want some angst
84 & 89"Im dying" and "I'm not leaving you"
You're falling.
Faster and closer to the ground than you should be.
You weren't at the proper altitude when you bailed. 
Not that you had much of a choice. 
The plane shrapnel took out your parachute before you even realized it had exploded.
You're high enough the reserve chute should slow you enough so impact doesn't kill you.
You hope.
You try to locate Lexa but can’t see her. She must be above you.
At least you hope that's why you can't see her.
There's no clear patch to land, all you can see are trees below you so you know it's going to be rough but knowing something and experiencing it can be two drastically- painfully- different things.
You squeeze your eyes shut, knowing you have no control over your descent and you'd really like to be able to see out of both of them if you make it to the ground and honestly if you're going to die, you'd rather not watch it happen. 
The canopy branches sting, slicing through your skin as you whip past them. You're jerked backwards as your chute tangles in the underlayer. The cords dangle you there while you catch your breath and your stomach removes itself from your throat. You can feel blood dripping over your left eye and swipe at it before opening them. Thankfully they still work. Looking down you're about 15 meters from the ground with no branches to reach for.
You still can't see or hear Lexa. 
You try to swing toward the nearest tree but can't get enough momentum. Letting out a heavy sigh, you know your only option if you don’t want to dangle there until the crows feed on you is to release your chute and fall, praying to whatever higher beings are out there that you're able to move once you get there. That or you die on impact. 
You count to three, then ten before pulling the tab. And now you're falling again with nothing to stop you.
The trees play pinball with your body and honestly you just want one of them to hit you in the head so you don't have to be conscious for this anymore. Your abdomen slams into a tree limb and then there's 4 blissful seconds of nothing before your body thumps into solid dirt. Your wrist is definitely broken. Your ribs feel like they are. Well everything does, but you can still move which is good and you know feeling pain is better than not when it comes to injuries or at least that's what you remember hearing your mom say once.
You wince as you stand. Leaning on a tree as your body tries to orient itself. Once the trees have stopped spinning and multiplying you start searching for Lexa. Calling her name as you stumble through the forest youre losing hope as the tenth one goes unanswered. 
You won’t stop until you know one way or the other. You have to know. So the calls continue. Until finally you hear something. A pained gasp of your name, followed by a stronger shout.
You try your best to control your face when you manage to get to Lexa, kneeling on the ground next to her. You're thankful you skipped breakfast since you get airsick, because if you didn't lose it in the flight you certainly would have now. There's a reason you didn't become a surgeon. Sure you like helping people and want to make them feel better, but you're not a fan of blood and seeing someone's bone sticking out of them is as nauseating as it is haunting. And bloody. So so bloody.
Her chute- the shreds that remain- is still attached to her pack and dangles on a branch above her. She has multiple abrasions visible on exposed skin and thin red lines seeping through her clothes. Above the waist she looks relatively fine and then your eyes settle on the large shard of bone jutting out from her thigh and the unnatural twist of her ankle. If you didn't think you wouldn’t wake up after, you'd faint. 
You know that if you think too long about the situation you'll spiral.
There's no time for that now. If you make it out of this alive you'll allow yourself to go into shock and cry for as long as you want. Until then you need a plan. So you put your feelings in a box and bury it as deep in your subconscious as it'll go and start compartmentalizing.
Step one. Stop or limit Lexas bleeding.
You know if you try to set the bone you could make matters infinitely worse but if she bleeds out before you can get her a doctor… you'd rather not think about that.
Step two. Find a doctor
You know you're nowhere near your destination but you remember seeing a building and a few tents right before everything literally went up in smoke. It's the best chance you have, probably the only one which leads to the next problem to solve.
Step three. Get Lexa to said doctor.
There's no way she's going to be able to walk even with assistance. Plus if she exerts energy that'll increase blood flow and with a gaping hole in her leg, well that wouldn't be the ideal scenario. Based on the blood smeared on the ground, she’s already tried to move herself.
A hand on your cheek and your name being called pulls you out of your head. The look of concern on Lexa’s face tells you she called it more than once. You don’t allow yourself time to relish the touch, standing up to survey your surroundings.
“I need you to stay still while I try to find something to wrap and stabilize your leg.” With nothing sterile to use as gauze or a tourniquet you're already at a loss for step one, but there has to be vines around here you can use or plants you can blend to make a rough poultice.
“Can't you just use one of our jackets and some sticks?” Lexa says through gritted teeth, propping herself up on her elbows..
“Sticks yes, jackets no. They're covered in dirt and blood and you'll get an infection and be dead by morning.” If she makes it that long, you think darkly.
“Lovely” 
You look around helplessly, before examining her again.
“Did you pull your reserve?”
“No” 
You crouch behind her opening the pack. “It's not the best material but it's the cleanest we have and I can also use that to transport you.” You say, mind moving a mile a minute as you go through everything you need to do to get Lexa mobile.
“There's no way you're dragging me through the woods on a parachute”
“Do you have a better idea because the way I see it we're stuck here. In some foreign jungle and i can see your fucking femur. You're bleeding out and unless you think someone is magically going to appear to rescue us we have to do it ourselves and since you can't walk I have to do it and I'm not leaving you here to be food for the bears or tigers or whatever the hell animals they have here. I’m not. Okay?”
Lexa stares at you for a second and as stubborn as you usually are you can't bear to hold eye contact. 
“Okay” Lexa relents.
“Okay" you nod, swallowing the knot in your throat. "Okay let's get you out of that harness."
You opt for cutting it off instead of attempting to get it down her legs. The reserve chute is thankfully intact and free of any obvious dirt. It's the best you have and honestly as much as you don't want to admit it Lexa is looking paler than she was when you found her. You need to hurry.
“We flew over an encampment before we bailed due south west I think, we should head that direction.” You say as you secure the sticks to both sides of her leg, trying to ignore the hisses and groans of pain coming from your patient. It’s a shoddy job, but it’s better than nothing and hopefully enough to get her to help.
“You want to go toward the people that shot at us?” Lexa asks incredulously, but still obliges you by situating herself onto the remainder of the chute. Not without an audible whimper of pain.
“We don't know someone shot at us, something could have malfunctioned in the plane" you say but she still looks dubious "look it's the closest possible chance at help we have to us so we either go there and hope they don’t kill us or we stay here wandering around these godforsaken woods until we’re eaten or we die."
“What would eat us?”
“Hell if I know! You’d seriously pick that over a chance at survival?”
“If it was quick. I’d rather that than at the hands of the enemy. We know nothing, you and I both know that, but they don't. Who knows what they would do to us there. Would that truly be better?”
“Keep talking like that and I’ll kill you myself. Unfortunately for you, you don’t have much say in the matter because I’m the one dragging your useless ass through these woods and I say we’re going to take our chance with the camp.”
“I’m not useless.” 
“That’s what you take away from that?” you huff. You clip the chute to your harness and try to move. 
“You should just leave me here, you’d make it farther on your own”
“Im not leaving you!” You say, trying again.
It’s harder than you thought. Your body is so exhausted it can barely maintain enough energy to keep you moving let alone the weight of another body, but you push through. Summoning any ounce of adrenaline your body can muster.
It works. For a little while anyway.
You walk at a snail's pace, ignoring your pain and the pained noises coming from behind you. It doesn’t help your cause to dwell on it, to let it take over you, to think about the possible damage all the bumps from root and rocks are having on Lexa’s leg. Or what happens if this isn’t enough, if you can’t get the two of you to safety or you get there and it doesn’t matter. If Lexa- no, you shake your head, blinking back the traitorous tears that threaten to fall. That won’t happen. It can’t. You didn’t go through all that heartbreak years ago to have it happen again only this time there wouldn’t be a second chance. You don’t think you’d survive it. Losing her again.
A raised root catches your foot and you stumble forward. Taking a second to catch your breath you look around, hoping to see some sign that you're close or that someone is out there coming for you. But you're not and there isn’t. 
You brace yourself ready to keep going, but your body protests catching up to the toils it’s been put through. You’ve lost your momentum and try as you might, you can't get your legs to move anymore.
You don’t recognize the anguished cry that leaves your lips as your own. Collapsing on the ground next to Lexa, your chest heaves as your breathing regulates. Everything hurts. You failed and now you're going to die here.
You're both going to die in these woods and neither of you should even be here. You should be sitting on opposite ends of a couch, legs entwined together reading research articles and gossip columns, trading tired smiles and brief kisses on the nearest patch of exposed skin, but circumstances didn’t allow for that. Drove you apart. Led you both to take an opportunity you never would have thought to before. At least in your case. You’re not really sure what went through Lexa’s mind, she never gave you an explanation, at least a decent one.
You decide to start a fire. If you’re going to die you’d rather be warm. Plus it might ward off unwanted creatures, maybe even attract help. Maybe you should have thought of that sooner, but shouldn’t a plane falling out of the sky be enough to send someone?
“We need a fire to stay warm until someone comes for us.” You say and when you look at Lexa all you see is understanding and acceptance. She knows you’re going to die here too. God she's so pale, too pale, but still beautiful. You swallow down the lump in your throat. “The ground’s wet so I doubt it will be easy but-” 
"Right shin pocket.” Lexa says
“What?”
“I have something we can use as kindling, in the shin pocket of my right leg.”
You pull the zipper, careful not to jostle her leg and pull out - “A tampon?”
“Great kindling.” Lexa nods “Starters in the left knee"
“Thank God for cargo pants" You shake your head fondly.
“They're practical" Lexa says with a hint of a smile
“You always were the practical one.” You mutter as you start gathering twigs and a few drier limbs you’re able to break down.
“Clarke.”
“It's not a bad thing! Look how well it turned out for us this time.” You try to joke. It falls flatter than you did. 
“I-”
“Got any food stashed in there?” You ask before you have the conversation you’ve been wanting to have for years, but honestly what does it matter now?
She sighs. “Some almonds and a likely squashed granola bar.”
“A five course meal” It’s better than nothing. You’re a botanist, you know there are edible plants around you, but just because they’re edible doesn’t mean they taste good. If it comes down to it, you know starvation won’t be the cause of your death, but you don’t think you’ll have enough time to find out.
You prop Lexa against a tree as you assemble a small fire. The tampon works well, not that you doubted Lexa and soon enough it’s hot enough to catch the dampened wood.
Once you’re confident it will stay lit, you settle next to her against the trunk, your body sagging in relief. You should probably eat something to abate the dizzy feeling that’s taken over you.
As if reading your mind, Lexa holds out her hand filled with granola pieces. You thank her even though you’re not hungry and ignore the twist in your gut at how cold her hand is, knowing it’s not something you or the fire can fix.
“Well, it’s not how I thought I’d go but you can’t beat the view.” You try to joke and you think Lexa laughs.
“Can’t beat the company either” Lexa whispers. Maybe it’s all the voice she can manage, but it sounds like it means more. Everything that was never said. Apologies for what was and will never be.
“Do you remember when we went to the coast?” You ask, mostly to keep her alert, but also because you’re feeling sentimental.
“How could I forget?”
“Everything that could go wrong did and we spent the weekend laid up in bed for all the wrong reasons.” You laugh. You had never been so red before in your life and she was in jellyfish burns and sand flea bites. The carry out you ordered gave you both food poisoning and when you were both feeling better it was a monsoon outside your hotel room. “But I still would do it all over again because in between sprints to the bathroom and reapplications of solarcaine, it was just us and whatever shitty movie was on the TV that we would mute and come up with our own dialogue and those are some of my best memories.”
“Me too.” Lexa sighs, she sounds tired. You know if she wasn’t she wouldn’t agree with you. “I wish we could go back.” You think she means more than just back to that memory.
“Maybe one day.” You say softly.
“Clarke?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m dying.” she says it so matter a factly your body gets caught between a laugh and a cry, an ungodly sound coming out of your mouth
“Don’t say that, everything is going to be fine.”
“Okay, then I’m tired.”
“I know, but you can’t fall asleep okay?” You warn.
“You too.” She mutters and it already sounds like the fog is overtaking her. She never was good at keeping promises.
“Mhmm” Then again neither were you. You rest your head on her shoulder and let the sounds of the forest lull you away.
Just as the blackness overtakes you, you swear you hear footsteps.
_______
Harsh light greets you when you open your eyes and you quickly close them. For some reason that hurts, since when does blinking hurt?
You try again, only opening them part way to take in your surroundings. White walls surround you, giving no hint as to where you are. To what happened to you. What happened to you?
Everything hurts. You can’t move. When you try, it’s like you’re willing someone else's body and it just lays there, mocking you.
A groan escapes your lips and it must have been louder than you thought because a door opens in response or maybe it was just coincidence.
It must have been a coincidence because the face that greets you looks surprised at your consciousness and quickly exits the room.
They come back a minute later with someone else and they poke and prod at you, run something sharp up one of your feet, but not the other. At least you hope they didn’t because you can’t feel it. You can see your leg under the sheet but it feels weird, wrong. You can hear them talking, asking questions, but your brain can’t focus enough to understand any of their words let alone formulate your own.
You feel a pinch and then drift back to nothingness.
The next time you wake you’re more alert. Aware that you’re hooked up to machines, laying in a makeshift ‘hospital’ bed. Someone is standing next to you replacing an IV bag. You try to say something but your throat is dry and your brain and mouth feel like they've been disconnected.
The person notices your struggles and holds a cup to your lips, telling you to take it slow. It feels like you haven’t taken a drink in years and you have to stop yourself from downing it all in one go.
“There you go, easy does it. We only took the tube out yesterday.” The person says and you make a noise of acknowledgement not taking your lips away from the cup.
“Where am I?” You ask when you finally gather your voice.
“A liminal zone, you’re safe here.” 
“What happened?”
“I don’t know the whole story, but you survived the downing of your plane. Barely, if we hadn’t found the two of you when we did I don’t know if I’d be talkin to you right now.”
“The two-” Everything comes back to you at that moment and your eyes shoot around the room looking for someone you know isn’t there. “Where is she?” You ask in a panic. She has to be okay. You have so much to tell her, she needs to be okay. She needs to be okay.
“Hey now, take it easy.” The person- doctor?- says placing a hand on your shoulder. 
“Where is she?” You ask again when your breathing evens out. You need to see her.
“She had internal bleeding in her abdomen, lot of damage from the fall, the docs did everything they could.” The tone is gentle like that somehow softens the words being spoken to you. She can’t be dead, you were going to make everything right.
“I need to see her.” You choke out and register a sigh, but you’re wheeled out of your room down the hall and into another. You don’t stop the tears from flowing when you see her. Pale and immobile. She’s always been pale, but you have never known her to stay still even when sleeping. You lost count of how many times you were woken up by an elbow to the face or a foot in your back. You tried to pretend you slept better without it when you left. You didn’t.
“Seems like she made her body do things they’re not meant to in that condition, used more energy than what she should have been able to.”
“She’s never been one to follow rules” They push you next to her and you reach out to grab her hand. Part of you breaks when she doesn’t squeeze back. “She saved my life.” You stroke your thumb along the back of her hand, your chest is tight. This isn’t right. You should be the one in that bed. She wouldn’t want you to think like that, but it’s true. If she had paid attention to her own injuries instead of tending to yours. If she hadn’t had to drag you through the woods. If she wasn’t so stubborn and caring and wonderfully her, if she was a little less selfless she would be awake, alive, and you… you wouldn’t be. You owe her everything and that was true before you fell out of the sky.
“You are going to be okay, do you hear me? Are you really going to let some silly little plane crash be the way you go? Let some dumb god you don’t believe in decide your fate?” You choke out a laugh, because you have to. You know she would hate you saying that, the idea of it all. You reach higher, stroking your fingers along her cheek, back through her blonde hair. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t want me to say it, especially like this, but I’m so so sorry. For putting what I thought was duty first, for thinking I couldn’t have both, for walking away without talking to you first, for breaking your heart. I don’t know why you didn’t just let me die. I wish you had.” 
You bring her hand into your lap, playing with her fingers like you used to do anytime you watched a movie together. “I don’t think I can live without you. I barely did before, pushing myself from one project to another, but even then I knew you were out there. Living, breathing, hopefully happy. Even if I wasn’t the one making you happy.” You sigh, kissing her palm. “But if there’s even a chance I can do that again, that we can be together, I promise I won’t make the same mistake again. We can run away, go live in that tiny house in the mountains you always talked about, see more of the world, by car. You can pick the music and I will cook every single meal and do the dishes. You just have to live okay? I need you to live. Maybe that’s selfish of me, but I love you Clarke and I- I need you.”
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sawdusst · 9 months
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The Rainmaker Heist Chapter 7 (Coroika Pirate AU)
so originally this was going to be the second to last update, but then i checked the word count and i was like "uhh yea im gonna break this up into two chapters" so here it is!!
we're getting closer to the final heist >:]
anyways, enjoy!!
Previous Chapter
Main Thread for anyone new to the AU!
Word count: 1,387
====== [ ⚓ ] ======
[Leave Shady]
"...Come to think of it," Rider began, "I bet I could just hand him off to the S4. They'll know what to do."
Shady sat up in his cell. "Th-The S4? You don't actually have connections with them, do you?"
"I dunno, maybe I do," Rider scoffed, then looked over at Gloves, "C'mon, let's go. Your crew's probably waiting for you."
"W-Wait! You can't send me over there!" Shady scrambled to his feet and ran over to the iron bars. "You're— You're bluffing, this is just another tactic isn't it?"
Gloves gave Shady one last look before he turned to leave. He could feel a twinge of guilt as desperation crept into Shady’s voice.
"Oh no, no, no," Shady whispered. "Wait! Please! Don’t leave me here, I-I’ll talk!”
Rider turned to leave as well, walking down the hallway with Gloves. 
“No, no, no,” Shady paced back and forth anxiously.
It wasn’t until Gloves and Rider walked a little further when Shady exclaimed, “We don’t have the Rainmaker, okay? Is that all you wanted from me?”
Gloves and Rider both stopped in their tracks. 
“We— We don’t have the Rainmaker,” Shady repeated, “We haven’t had it for probably months now.”
“What do you mean?” Gloves asked, turning around, “I thought—“
“Don’t bother,” Rider interjected, “He could just be lying to us.”
“No, you don’t get it!” Shady pleaded, “I-I can’t— Whatever happened to leaving me stranded somewhere? Can’t we go back to that?”
Shady rested his head against the bars. “Please don’t leave me with the S4.”
“Where is it then?” Gloves asked.
“The X-Bloods took it,” Shady mumbled, “There was— a situation. But that’s besides the point, I don’t want to stick around with him.” Shady pointed to Rider. 
“And I don’t exactly want to go with you either!” Shady looked at Gloves. He then sighed, “You should just leave me to die.”
“Hey, don’t worry,” Gloves said, giving Shady a reassuring smile, “The S4 don’t bite. I’m sure they don’t have any intent on hurting you.”
“Didn’t you forget the captains of the S4 and the X Blood are friends?” Shady snapped, “Doesn’t matter if they claim they aren’t, we don’t know for sure and that’s what’ll be the end of you if you’re not careful.”
“Gloves! You coming?” Rider called.
“Yeah! One second!” Gloves looked back over at Shady, “Everything’s going to be okay. I’m sure the S4 don’t want any trouble with your Captain, so they’ll return you safe and sound. They’re not going to hurt you.”
“You don’t know that!” Shady retorted. Then, he paced back and forth anxiously again, "What am I going to do— What am I going to tell— How am I—"
The latter opened his mouth to speak but heard Rider calling him again.
"Gloves!"
Gloves sighed with disappointment and turned to leave. “I really should get going, I’ll see ya around! Tell your Captain I said hi!”
Shady didn’t respond as Gloves hurried off. 
Above deck, Gloves squinted a little bit in the bright sunlight. He talked to Rider a little bit more before returning to his ship which was turned parallel to Rider’s. Gloves watched as Rider’s ship became smaller and smaller as they got further away. He walked over to the side railing of the ship, sitting down on a crate. 
“So, apparently,” Gloves began, “The X Blood Pirates took the Rainmaker. Shady said there was a ‘situation’. So it looks like we’ve got a change of plans!”
“Oh boy.” Half Rim mumbled.
“We’re going to look for the X Bloods!” Gloves said excitedly, “They’re pretty easy to find. All we need to do is figure out how to steal the Rainmaker off their ship!”
Gloves pulled out the manual, flipping through it. “Plus, I remember seeing some information about them in the manual. We should have a pretty solid idea of what we’re getting into.”
“I don’t think challenging the X-Bloods is a good idea, Captain,” Half Rim suggested, “It’s just asking for trouble at this point. Unless we could figure out a way to get it without them noticing.”
“Since when were we a little scared of danger?” Gloves joked, then tossed the manual up playfully, “I’ll do some research on these guys. Then, I’ll have something finalized for next time we run into them.”
“It’ll be easier if we fought them on land rather than overseas,” Straps interjected, “We could use the environment to our advantage if they outnumber us.”
Gloves nodded. He opened the manual, flipping through each page until he found what he was looking for. 
The X-Blood Pirates
Ink Color: Bright Cyan with a hint of red
Captain doesn’t really like to talk about them. We’ve had a few encounters with them. Most of the time our captains meet up, it doesn’t end very well. The X-Bloods are composed of 4 main inklings, plus a few other crew members— prisoners that were probably forced to work for them. Refer to field guide for details. 
For the most part, battling them could go either way. It depends on the matchup. It’s important to keep your distance from them though. Sneak attacks involving sub weapons will also be ineffective. The X-Blood have their signature move, The X-Fall. If you are caught in it, it is almost impossible to emerge unscathed. Once there’s a window to dodge, take it. It might be the last thing you ever do.The X Fall is a form of crossfire. It paints a spot shaped like an X and could cut right through you. The X Fall can be narrowly avoided with a dodge roll. I have yet to find other outs to it. 
Their captain and first mate also have strong intuition. Sneak attacks will not work on them. They can somehow predict your next move, I learned this the hard way.
Gloves tilted his head with confusion, seeing the notes began to look scrambled and disorderly. They looked like they were written in the midst of a battle. Cyan and orange ink stained some of the pages. A photo slipped out of the manual. It was a photograph of 4 inklings with a bright red X corner painted in the corner.
“Hey, Clips, how much longer until we reach land?” Gloves asked, tucking the photo back into the manual. Gloves looked around to see it was nothing but ocean all around them.
“We won’t reach land for a while,” Clips replied, “I’m taking us on a small detour. It's Glowfly season, so it’s best we avoid Sockeye Station unless we want to get swarmed.” 
“Sounds good!” Gloves gave a thumbs up.
“Hey Captain, do you mind if I have a look at the manual?” Half Rim asked.
“Oh, sure,” Gloves replied. He closed the manual, handing it to the latter. “There’s a lot of cool stuff in there.”
“Interesting,” Half Rim replied, flipping through some of the pages. 
• • •
A few days later, their ship slowly stopped in a dock. Straps lowered the anchor as Gloves set out a ramp. The crew lowered their flag and folded up the sails. It was a bright, sunny day and a faint wind blew throughout the pier.
The crew docked their ship away from the sailing ships, so no one would notice their arrival. Gloves jumped off the ship, his boots hitting the wooden pier.
“We’re here!” Gloves exclaimed. 
“Try not to get lost again, Captain,” Straps said, tying up the sails. She rolled her eyes, “I swear everytime we visit somewhere you end up wandering off and it takes a whole day to find you.”
“Don’t worry,” Gloves replied, “I’ll stick with Half Rim this time around!”
Gloves looked around the pier. There only appeared to be a line of cargo ships. He sighed a breath of relief. 
“Alright, we should be all set to go!” Clips exclaimed, “Where are you guys going first?” 
Gloves looked over his shoulder. There was a town off into the far distance uphill. He could barely make out the outlines of tall buildings and a busy marketplace.
“So cool!!” Gloves beamed, then looked over at Half Rim excitedly. “I wonder if they’ll have any cool clothes here.”
“Probably,” Half Rim shrugged.
Straps sighed, “I should get myself a new hat, this one’s falling apart. It’s all worn out.”
Gloves laughed, then turned to leave with Half Rim. “We’ll see you guys later! I’ll meet you back at the ship by sundown!” 
Gloves and Half Rim walked uphill, heading towards the town.
poor shady got left :"
dont worry though, i actually have an idea for another story i might write eventually >:D so-- there's that ig
thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed! <3 have a nice day/night
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