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quirkless-accident · 1 year

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A Push Down Memory Lane

Was going through the drafts when I found this prompt so have fun ig Lots of angst

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Danny groans as he wakes up, noting the massive headache he's got. He slowly sits up, dimly aware of the friends he's with. Everywhere around him is pitch black, but he cans till see his friends and teacher perfectly fine.

"Where are we?" Iida asks.

"I was in the snack aisle when we got hit by whatever the fuck took us here," Danny answers with a shrug. Because apparently they couldn't even do a simply grocery run anymore.

"Is everyone here?" Aizawa asks them, doing a quick headcount. It had just been Danny, Iida, Todoroki, and Midoriya who had been tasked with grocery shopping this week, with Aizawa as their escort.

"What's that?" Midoriya asks. They all turn to him, and see that he's pointing off in the distance. They follow his gaze.

A long ways away is a small, square pinprick of light, and as the more they look at it, the closer it gets.

"What is that?" Todoroki asks as he gets to his feet. He gives Danny a hand, and they both crouch down into battle stances as the light gets closer.

And...Maybe it's Danny's headache, or maybe it's whatever weird world they're in, but Danny can tell as the light gets closer that it's just...Static. There's nothing there. It seems harmless, but Danny doesn't let his guard down.

When it gets close enough to them, larger than any one of them and thrice as wide, it stops. The static cuts out, and a stage appears.

"I bet you're asking yourselves where you are and what this all is," a voice off camera, for lack of a better phrase, tells them. "Why, you've been kidnapped! And the only way out is for you all to relive your worst memories! A bit gruesome, I know, but nothing says "break them up" without some deep, dark secrets coming into play, am I right? Anyway, sit back, relax, and have an awful time!"

The screen cuts to black, and a moment later, it's lit up with white lights and the all too familiar monotonous beeping of a heart monitor.

It's from the person's point of view, so they can't see who it is, but it doesn't take much to figure it out when the camera pans over to the figure lying in the hospital bed.

Tensei Iida lies in the bed, beat up and unconscious. He's got several lacerations that are hidden behind bandages, and several wires coming from miscellaneous parts of his body, all hooked up to one machine or another. Even unconscious he looks like he's in the worst pain imaginable.

"Brother," Iida whispers, unable to take his eyes off of the screen. "This was the day-the day after the sports festival. What he looked like after surgery. We found out that he would never walk again. Never be a hero again."

Danny gently places a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. He remembers the aftermath of this particular event, as he had been there when they all fought Stain together. But this, the catalyst, was definitely worse than any wound Danny and his friends had suffered that night.

"I've always looked up to him," Iida tells them all with a shaky breath. "And I...I have a lot to live up to, carrying his name with me. It's a bit daunting, if I'm being honest."

"I can't even imagine," Danny tells him. "Fuck, we're all gonna need therapy after this."

"You're already in therapy," Aizawa tells him.

"Don't rub it in, please," Danny begs. Before Aizawa can respond, the screen cuts to black, and the stage comes back. Still, there's nobody there. Just a voice outside of the frame.

"Awe, poor little Iida brothers. How's it feel, knowing you'll never live up to the Ingenium name? How's it feel, knowing that you would have gladly murdered the Hero Killer for what he did to your brother? Not without lack of trying, though. Answer this: if your friends hadn't come to your aid, would you have done it? Chew on that while we move onto the next!"

The screen fades to black, and then to a bathroom mirror.

Todoroki is just a child, here. His eye is freshly bandaged, and the tears coming from his right side keep freezing.

He scowls at himself, before jumping off the stool, tucking ti away before he leaves. The hallway he's going down is long, or at least seems like that. he's stopped by his father, who, even at home has to flaunt his power with his flaming facial hair.

"Moronic woman," he hisses. "To hurt you at such an important time."

"Where did Mama go?" Young Shoto asks, not refusing to look up at his father.

"Huh? Oh, she hurt my masterpiece so I put her in a hospital to keep you safe."

"That was your fault," Shoto says, trembling with anger as he finally glares up at his father. "You're the one who made her hurt me."

Endeavour's face glares down at them, his gaze full of nothing but disdain before the screen cuts to black and back to the empty stage.

"It certainly show's how bad Endeavor must be as a father," the villain says. "Your mother pours scalding hot tea over your face and you blame him? I mean, he's terrible. I would too. But oh, poor baby Todoroki finding out he can't ever cry to his mommy for help ever again. How tough it must have been, growing up without her comfort."

Todoroki is shaking, being held in a tight hug by Midoriya, who's glaring up at the screen.

"Oh, fuck me," Danny says under his breath. Because he knows, he knows what his worst memory is. It also just so happens to be his biggest secret.

The screen changes again, from black to a blue, cloudy sky. Next to Danny, Aizawa tenses up, but then minutely relaxes when he realizes it's not his memory. It's Midoriya's.

All Might is there, in civilian clothes. He and Midoriya are on a roof, and All Might is walking away from him.

"I...I need to know," Midoriya says with shaky conviction, "Is it possible to become a hero even if I don't have a quirk?"

"What? Of course it is," Aizawa says, looking over to Midoriya. "But you-you have a quirk I don't understand. When was this?"

"I'm a normal kid without any powers," past Midoriya says, stopping All Might in his tracks. "Could I ever hope to be someone like you?"

"without a quirk?" All Might asks, looking over his shoulder at Midoriya.

They watch as All might doubles over in pain, smoke coming from his body. They watch as he turns into his smaller form, coughing up blood. They watch as he shows Midoriya the wound on his stomach, talking about the fear behind his smile and the pressures of being a hero.

"Pro heroes are always having to risk their lives," All might says. "Some villains just can't be beaten without powers. So can you be a hero?

"Not without a quirk."

Danny can't help the shout of anger directed at the screen as it cuts to an explosion off in the distance shortly after All Might leaves. He doesn't register the fact that Midoriya is similar to him. he can't process it, not properly when they're stuck here anyway.

"He crushed your dreams before leaving you on a rooftop?" Aizawa asks Midoriya, a terrifying calm quality to his voice. "When was this?"

"About ten months before the entrance exam," Midoriya answers quietly, not looking anybody in the eye.

"Oh, but in the end you did a quirk, didn't you?" The villain says. None of them noticed the screen change. "Hiding all of those scary unheroic emotions behind that fragile smile of yours. Do your peers know about your bullies? Your quirkless status up until All Might took pity on you? Well, lucky for you you're not the only one in this kind of situation. But I'm saving the best for last."

The screen opens up to another blue, cloudy day. Aizawa's capture scarf is tightening around a villain, five times the size of their teacher.

"Oboro!" Their teacher cries out, looing around the rubble. His arm is bleeding, but he doesn't have any more of his capture scarf to use to bind the wound. "Oboro, I did it! You were right, I did it!"

Aizawa looks around, but it's nothing but rubble. He stumbles, tripping over debris, before coming across a broken gourd.

"O...Oboro?"

The process after that is hard to watch. Aizawa is insisting that Oboro is alive, that he heard him cheering Aizawa on as he fought his first major villain.

He watches as they dig Oboro's body out of the rubble. A younger Present Mic is there too, and the cloudy day has turned into a full downpour but neither seem to notice.

The last thing they see before the screen goes away is Oboro's bloody body being zipped into a body bag.

"Holy shit," Danny says under his breath. He chances a glance at Aizawa, who hasn't torn his eyes away from the screen. His eyes are red, and Danny just knows that it's not from his quirk. His breaths are shaky, and it's unnerving for them all to see their stoic teacher so thrown off.

"How's it feel to know you're a failure?" The villain taunts. "That's why you became a teacher, isn't it? You haven't lost a kid yet, sure, but you know deep down that you will. In fact, you've come pretty close with this fresh batch of first years several times! I can't wait to see the look on your face when one of them finally kicks it before their debut! Anyway, on to the grand finale!"

The screen changes, and even though Danny knew it was coming, his blood still runs cold.

"Oh god, oh fuck," Danny says, unable to stop the shaking in his hands.

"Here, put this on," Sam says, handing him a white hazmat suit.

"I know basic lab safety, Sam," Past Danny says.

"Not street safety, though," Tucker cuts in, earning himself an elbow from Sam.

"Do not blame Danny for those quirkist dickfucks," Sam snarls. "It's not Danny's fault he's quirkless. And it's not his fault the teacher's don't do anything about it."

"Guys, cut it out," Danny says with a tired sigh. "It's fine. I'm fine. Now, you got the camera ready?"

Sam gives him a thumbs up, and Danny takes in a deep breath before stepping into the portal.

If your parents find out you're totally dead, dude," Tucker says as he snaps a couple of phots on his own phone.

"Well, it's a good thing they won't find out-fuck-!"

Danny remembers it all like it was yesterday. He watches as he trips, and even though it's just his memory playing, he can still feel the press of the button beneath his palm as he catches himself on the wall. He remembers the split second in between catching himself and the ectoplasmic electricity, where he was frozen with fear. The smell of the ozone, the taste of his burning tongue, the smell of his roasting flesh.

His scream here, as he's dying, is the same sound that comes out when he uses his Wail.

The screen goes black for a second before coming to life again, with Sam and Tucker leaning over him. Off to the side, the portal is alive and thrumming with power. Sam shows him his reflection, foreign to him at the time. The white hair and green eyes had scared him. Had terrified him because as much as he didn't want to admit it at the time, he had known exactly what was going to happen in that split second before the lightning struck. In that second he was frozen.

"Did you...Are you...?" Aizawa asks, unable to force himself to ask his full question. But Danny barely registers his voice as the screen goes blank, and back to the stage that finally has someone on it.

"Oh, I knew that one was going to be sweet and juicy! The backstory! The lore! The death! Just the story of a creepy little boy with creepy little powers, unable to fit into the world of the living or the world of the dead. Quite a conundrum indeed. And now that all your friends know, what will you do?"

"Kick your fucking ass!" Midoriya shouts. There are tears streaming down his face, but they're all more taken aback by Midoriya's cursing.

"If you can catch me, that is!"

Without warning, everything around them turns to white. Danny slams his eyes shut, his eyes burning with the sudden onslaught, and he feels that all too familiar jackhammer in his brain. When the light goes back to normal, he opens up his eyes and looks around.

They're on the stage that had been on the screen. It's small and rundown, abandoned. The villain is nowhere to be seen.

They had been grocery shopping before this, but none of them have the appetite or the mental energy to try and go back.

"You...You're like me," Midoriya says, looking to Danny. "Well-not exactly, I guess but...Similar enough..."

"Should have been obvious from the way you used your quirk at the beginning of the year," Danny answers with a shaky breath, trying to shake off the memory of dying.

"Sensei, how old were you when your memory happened?" Todoroki asked in a quiet voice.

Mr. Aizawa lets out a heavy sigh. "Sixteen. We were best friends, and we were doing our work study together. He sacrificed his life saving a bunch of school children. But don't let my memories distract from yours, Todoroki. We will be talking about this, as well as you becoming a ward of U.A. I'm not going to let your ass of a father around you ever again."

"I would...I would appreciate that."

"And you," Aizawa turns to Danny. "We'll be talking about that. not today, but soon."

"Yeah," Danny says with a sigh. "Yeah, okay. Just as long as I get to shove my foot up All Might's ass. Out here giving out haunted quirks to quirkless kids after crushing their dreams."

"What do you mean haunted?" Iida asks.

"Whenever Midoriya uses a lot of power there are some Shades that hang out. Eight of them, if I counted correctly."

"You were right, Danny," Todoroki says, looking between them all. "We are going to need therapy."

And despite everything that's just happened, Danny manages to bark out a laugh. It's short but genuine, and he knocks his shoulder into Todoroki's for the trouble.

It was a rough day, and they've still got to hunt down the villain that did this to them, but at the end of the day, the dude was wrong. He had predicted that these bad memories and whatever secrets they may hold would tear them apart. In fact, it did the opposite.

Danny feels closer to his friends than he ever has, and he has a new perspective as to why Aizawa is such a hardass when it comes to their training and wellbeing. He appreciates it more than words can describe.

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When they get back to the dorm, the pile in Danny's room since he's got the most space. They hang out and watch silly rom-coms until they one by one fall asleep in the early hours of the morning.

And if Aizawa gives them all the day off from school, well, that's nobody's business but theirs.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #shouta aizawa #eraserdad #eraserhead #deku #midoriya izuku #ingenium #tenya iida #shoto todoroki #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero acadeamia #tw: death #tw: abuse #tw: injury

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blackmissfrizzle · 4 years

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Mate

Summary: Derek reveals the real reason he avoids the reader.

Pairing: Derek Hale x black!reader

Warnings: Mentions of smut & violence

A/N: My Derek fic is finally finished! Now I gotta work on Peter’s

Moving to Beacon Hills wasn’t your choice. Your mom told you she had a dream and that Beacon Hills is where you’ll find your destiny. She was right, well at least you think she was. It’s hard to tell when your destiny refuses to spend time with you.

The first day you got to town you bumped into him. You just walked out of the gas station when you saw a group of familiar hunters harass him and vandalized his car. Immediately, you knew he was a werewolf if the hunters were messing with him, but you weren’t gonna let them treat him like that.

Your family was probably the only group of hunters who didn’t have an immediate distaste for werewolves and thanks to that you were blessed. A long time ago, an ancestor of yours saved a werewolf, who was being framed for murders in his village. Grateful for his compassion, the werewolf’s witch lover casted a spell on your bloodline. It allowed your family to be enhanced: faster, stronger, faster healing, and better sight and smell. Basically, your family was like Buffy the Vampire Slayer for werewolves. Except, most of the time you spent protecting werewolves instead of hunting them. The only time you hunted them were when there was strong evidence that one was killing people, like the Alpha here in Beacon Hills.

So, when you saw hunters messing with him, knowing he couldn’t do anything about without putting himself at risk, you had to do something. Just a flash of your new deputy badge and an utterance of your renowned last name had them scattering. And you what did you get in a return? A gruff thank you and he drove off without giving you his name.

Derek Hale was his name. You learned it the next day, when Chris Argent came to your house. The only Argent you’ve ever met was Kate and you couldn’t stand her, but her brother didn’t seem too bad, just another judgmental hunter. Kate on the other hand seemed certifiable crazy.

He warned you there was an alpha werewolf running loose and killing people, and he would love to have a hunter of your caliber to help him hunt the thing down. You declined his offer in a heartbeat. After working with his sister once you vowed to never to work with an Argent again.

The next time you saw Derek Hale was when him looking half dead and your boss’s son showed up on your doorstep. He been shot by Kate and the poison was working through him.

While Stiles raided your kitchen for snacks, you inspected Derek’s wound. Being that close to him, you got a better smell of his scent and it was intoxicating despite the poison in his blood. As you inspected it, he leaned in closer to you and you could’ve sworn he growled, “Mine,” but you disregarded it.

Unfortunately, you didn’t have what you needed to cure him, so you had to wait for Scott to find it at the Argent’s household. And in true Scott fashion he showed up at the last minute with the cure.

The downfall of Derek Hale is he’s a grumpy and pushes people away. You noticed it when you first met him, you noticed it with his interactions with Stiles, and you noticed it after he got smart right after Scott just saved his life. His disposition didn’t make him the easiest to trust, so you understood why Scott would rather trust the Argents. But both you and Derek knew the truth about them. They were a dangerous group of hunters.

Surprisingly, Derek dragged you along with him to show Scott the truth about the Argents. The three of you, ended up in a hospital room that housed Derek’s injured uncle. After Chris Argent told you about Derek, you looked him up at work and found out about the fire that killed his family. You had no doubt the Argents had a hand in it.

Soon after that, Derek and you spent more time together. Most of the time, you two were trying to figure out who the alpha was, but it was still quality time. He even let you talk him into watching a movie with you once.

With you, Derek wasn’t his usual grumpy self. He was reserved, never really opening up to you, but he could be really kind. The only time he seemed to cop an attitude with you was when you talked about the lawyer, who was always flirting with you.

That’s how you ended up at the Hale house. Last night you got stood up by lawyer bae and when you bumped into him at the grocery store, he scurried off. There’s only one person you know that makes people run off like that and his name is Derek Hale.

The tirade you had planned died out as soon as you saw Derek’s bare back as he was doing pull-ups on the doorframe.

“Well,” he said as his only acknowledgment to you. He didn’t even turn back to look at you, when he jumped down to do some impressive one-armed push-ups.

You didn’t like being ignored, so you sat on his back hoping to mess up his push-ups. Did it work? No. But were you impressed? Hell yeah! You weren’t a light chick; you had a curvier body that most wouldn’t think could keep up in the hunter lifestyle.

“Well what?” You asked, getting tired of only hearing his grunts, which by the way gave you some very naughty thoughts but that’s beside the point.

“You gonna cuss me out or what? I can smell your anger,” he held his push-up as he thought if he should finish his sentence, “…and other things.”

“What other things?” Your voice went up an octave.

Abruptly, Derek stopped his push-ups, jumped to his feet, and caught you before you could tumble to the ground. For balance you had to wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist.

This was the closest to his face you’ve ever been to his face. Derek was even more beautiful up close. Unconsciously, you ran your nose along the length of his neck, and he smelled amazing, but there was something underneath his natural scent. Taking another sniff, you knew what you were smelling. It was arousal. Derek was aroused and you think you had a hand in it.

Smiling down at you, he asked. “Like what you’re smelling?” Derek Hale should smile more because it was dazzling.

“No! You stink!” You tried to unwrap yourself from him, but he gripped you tighter and put you against the wall. There was no guessing if he was aroused, because you could feel it between your legs and boy was it big.

“Aren’t you tired of this little dance?” Derek’s face was getting dangerously close to yours and if he got any closer you wouldn’t be responsible for what you did next.

“What dance,” you asked, entranced by his lips.

Gripping your chin, so your eyes met his, Derek replied, “The one where we pretend, we’re not attracted to each other.”

Since, he was so closed off, you tried to ignore your feelings for him, but never in a million years did you think Derek felt the same. “When did you-,” abruptly Derek covered your mouth to silence you. It was a little faint to you, but to Derek you knew the sound of 3 hunters were crisp to him.

Quickly, he bounded up the stairs and stuffed you in a closet. “Stay here.”

Apparently, your face said that you weren’t gonna listen, because Derek had to repeat himself with his blue eyes glowing.

From what you heard, Derek took down the first two hunters with ease, but the third caught him off guard. Focusing your hearing, the hunter’s voice became clear. It was fucking Kate Argent. Now there was no way you were staying put.

“Put it down,” you ordered while drawing your gun.

“Wow, you really are here. I thought Chris was lying when he said you moved to town and working as a deputy. What a waste of talent. We could really use your help tracking down the Alpha.” The thing about Kate that irked you the most was that she always had that stupid smug smirk on her face and right now, you wanted to knock it off.

Ignoring her, you looked over her shoulder to Derek, “You ok?”

“I thought I told you to stay in the closet.” Derek’s ungrateful ass growled at you. That’s why you can never do him a favor.

Kate looked between you two. “Oh, am I interrupting a lover’s quarrel?”

At the same time, both of you said, “We’re not dating.”

Kate turned to you, ignoring the gun you had in your hand. “Just between us girls, me and him dated once.” Her little revelation left you stunned to the point where you didn’t notice her pull out the machine gun.

Derek threw you over his shoulder and ran to the woods. Once, he felt there was enough distance he stopped and set you down. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” you answered, but it didn’t matter. Derek was inspecting your body making sure there were no wounds. Eventually, he was satisfied, and he hugged you like he never wanted to let go.

“I can’t believe I thought this could work,” Derek whispered to himself, letting you go.

His pacing made you feel bad. There was only one emotion you were truly used to see Derek have, which was anger. But to see him nervous made you nervous.

To qualm his and your nerves, you tried to hug him, but he shrugged out of it. “That can’t happen. We can’t happen!”

“Why not?” You shouted. This was the first time you acknowledged to Derek that you were indeed attracted to him.

“Because everything good in my life ends up dead! Most of my family, my sister, and if you keep hanging around me, it’ll be you too eventually. I can’t let my mate die because of me.”

Mate? A werewolf having a soulmate was just a myth. Derek had to be confused. “Excuse me, did you just say mate?”

Derek looked up at you from his spot on the ground. “Don’t look at me like that. You’re my mate.”

“Derek that’s impossible. There hasn’t been a mated bond in centuries and its only between two werewolves, not one,” you tried to reason with him.

Hopping to his feet, Derek stalked towards you until your back hit the tree and he trapped you. “When did you meet me?”

The heat coming off of him was too much, you had to look down at your feet to be comfortable to answer. “The first day I moved here.”

Firmly gripping your chin, Derek forced you to look at him. “And since that day, has there been a day you haven’t thought about me? Because I can tell you, I’ve thought about you every single fucking day since that day at the gas station. Do you know how much restraint it took me not to kill Dale? What kind of name is Dale and who would even name their kid that?” Derek rambled on.

Was Derek actually jealous? To test your theory, you decided to test his buttons. “I don’t know. I think Dale is a cute name and it fits him so perfectly. Like have you seen him smile? It’s a work of art. I’m really upset that I didn’t go on that date with him.”

Derek was sporting his signature scowl and you had to stop yourself from laughing. It was too easy to rile him up. “Mines,” he growled and this time there was no tricking yourself that you misheard him this time.

Your mom did tell you your destiny was in Beacon Hills and you believed it was Derek, but you didn’t think it would mean him being your mate. When you found out about Derek, you thought you were to help him find the Alpha that killed his sister and maybe break him out of that hard shell of his, but being his mate was something that never crossed your mind.

The mate bond hasn’t happened in so long most thought it was a myth. And it certainly didn’t occur between a werewolf and a human. The closest connection between a werewolf and a human was for the human to be an anchor.

The mate bond is just a much stronger version of an anchor. A werewolf could share a telepathic bond with their mate, but more importantly it made each wolf physically stronger. It had to do something about the two wolves becoming one and complimenting each other strengths and weaknesses.

Logically, it made no sense for you and Derek to be mates. What strengths did you have that he already didn’t?

“You make me a better person,” Derek interrupted your thoughts.

“Excuse me?”

“There’s no doubt I can be asshole, but you straighten me out. You mellow me out. I’m a lot more sympathetic than I used to be. It doesn’t matter if I can break a door down, you are by far the strongest of us two.”

Derek had you shook. How did he know what you were thinking? “Did you uh- did you um, read my mind?”

“Yeah, um, sorry. I didn’t mean to. Our connection can be so strong at times and it lets us share a telepathic bond.”

“So, you mean to tell me that we’re not even properly mated yet, but we’re already sharing the telepathic bond!? And you still want to keep me away!?” You shrieked. You were in disbelief because a telepathic bond between mates only occurred after they’re formally mated, and it happens only to the strongest of mates. Thus, Derek Hale was royally fucking up.

Gripping your chin tightly, Derek made you look at him. “It’s for your own good. Even being friends with me is risky and I don’t think I’ll survive if something happens.”

Pissed that Derek thought you were some fragile little being, you decided to give him no choice but to be with you. “I guess I’ll just have to call Dale and screw his brains out. At least he’ll appreciate me.”

Barely five steps to your car and Derek tackled you to the ground. He hovered over you fully wolfed out.

“Aww, is the big bad wolf mad,” you mocked him, making him wrap his hand around your throat and lifting you up to him. “Last time I’ll tell you this: you’re mines.”

Five simple five words sparked something in him. “Then prove it to me.” Derek flipped you over on your knees and pulled you flushed against him.

He trailed kisses down your neck until he abruptly stopped. “If I wasn’t so picky about our first time, I’d fuck you right here and show you who you belong to.” Derek claimed before lifting you to your feet.

Once he heard the hunters leave, he walked you back to your car silently. “How about this Friday we go to an early dinner and then go to Scott’s game?” Derek offered once you got back to your car.

You smiled up at him, happy he was finally coming to his senses. “And Stiles’,” you corrected him.

Immediately Derek’s face went sour at the mention of the goofy teen. “Admit it, you love him.”

“He’s annoying.”

“He’s cute.”

“He’s a pain in my ass.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.”

Derek’s forehead crinkled at the insult. “Fine. We’ll go to dinner then to Scott’s and Stiles’ game.”

“Great and you’ll be nicer to both of the boys,” you negotiated.

“We’re not even together and you’re already bossing me around.” Derek groaned, rubbing his temple.

Punching him in the shoulder, you scoffed, “I’ve been bossing you around, I just had to be more manipulative before.”

“True.” Derek leaned down and kissed you. “Well, as part of my demands, you can’t talk to Dale anymore.”

“Fine. It was your fault I was talking to him anyway. If you would’ve told me sooner, then I wouldn’t have to worry about him.”

“Fair point,” Derek ushered you into your car. “Call me when you get home and if you see Kate in public please don’t say anything to her.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll just beat her ass instead.”

Derek smacked his forehead at your stubbornness. “Y/N,” he growled. “Aren’t we teaching Scott how to control himself?”

“Yeah, what’s that gotta do with me?” Your upper lip snarled like you smelled a dead animal.

“Then shouldn’t you be a good example by showing control?”

Nodding your head side to side, you thought about your answer. “Yeah, I’ll show control by not beating her ass in front of Scott and her niece. How about that?”

Giving up on the conversation, Derek gave you a kiss on the cheek through your window. “Remember to call me. I don’t trust them not to attack you since they know you’re on my side.”

“I will.” You secured yourself with the seatbelt and stared at Derek, pondering if you really wanted to say what was on your tongue. Making your decision, you went for it as you put your car in drive. “Bye, mate.”

Derek’s eyes flashed blue and he returned the same departing words with a smile. “Bye, mate.”

Tags: @twistedcharismaaa @titty-teetee @chaneajoyyy @chasingsunlight @black-is-beautiful18 @princessshanae14 @pananegra @missdforever

#black!reader #derek hale #derek hale x black!reader #derek x black!reader #derek hale x reader #derek x reader #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fanfic #teen wolf #teen wolf fandom #derek hale fanfiction #derek hale fanfic #frizzlefic #frizzlesfic

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quazartranslates · 4 years

Text

Welcome to the Nightmare Game - CH54

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

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Chapter 54: Witchcraft Sacrifice (XXIII)

Ye Xia was dead? How could that be?

"Just now, I met Ye Xia in the dreamworld. She, Ning Zhou and I were pulled into the witch's dreamworld together, and possessed the witches from three years ago. All items and skills couldn’t be used..." Qi Leren said, interrupted by Lu Youxin.

“Possessed? So what you saw was just someone who called herself Ye Xia? As for whether she was telling the truth or not, how can you be sure? " Lu Youxin cocked her head a little and looked at him with some sarcasm.

Qi Leren swallowed saliva, and a chill rose on his back.

Yes, how did he know that the person he met was really Ye Xia? What he saw and talked to was just a person who claimed to be Ye Xia possessing an NPC from beginning to end. With his shallow understanding of Ye Xia, he couldn’t distinguish clearly.

"...Why do you have such doubts?" Qi Leren felt something was wrong. Why did Lu Youxin suspect that the "Ye Xia" he met was not herself?

"Of course, because Ye Xia's body doesn't look like it just died." Lu Youxin says, before with a confused and irritated look, she frowned and looked at the new tips on the wall.

"I'll go and have a look," Qi Leren said.

"What’s there to see on a corpse," Lu Youxin said coldly as she concentrated on studying the words on the wall. You couldn't tell that she was still pursuing Ye Xia not long ago.

"At least to know who killed her!"

Lu Youxin turned and looked at him with a smile: "Oh, maybe it's me?"

Qi Leren groaned: "No, it wouldn't be you. If it was you, why did you tell me about her death?"

Lu Youxin clicked her tongue: "Then go and see it, and you’ll understand. However, I advise you not to take it too seriously. It’s common for people to die in quests. There’s no foolproof quest, and there’s no player who can only win or only lose. One day I will die, you will die, Ning Zhou will die, and everyone will die. This is the doomed ending for us. "

Although Lu Youxin spoke in a relaxed tone, Qi Leren's mood was extremely heavy. He entered the world not long ago, but he had already vaguely felt the despair and fear of being precarious: "Is there really no way to leave this game?"

"Who knows, maybe when you die, you’ll find that you’ve opened your eyes in your bed. Everything here is just a nightmare." Lu Youxin shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe, after you jump out of the player's identity and enter another level, you can become a chess player, which must be wonderful."

"Jump out of the player's identity?" Qi Leren asked curiously.

"Uh-huh, so after completing this task, I’ll probably try the task of opening the Village of Dawn, hoping that everything will be different after arriving there." Lu Youxin finished that and finally glanced at the rock and left the hall.

Qi Leren hesitated for a moment, but still couldn't help worrying. He decided to go there first. Before leaving, he explained to Ellie's sister that if she saw Isabel and Ning Zhou coming back, to ask them to wait for him here.

Outside the hall, the corridor was still cold, and Qi Leren took a deep breath of cool dirty air and headed for the corridor on the right.

He couldn't judge whether the Ye Xia met in the dreamland was true or not now, but he remembered that Ye Xia said that her original body was slightly injured. At that time, he asked her if she had met Xie Wanwan, and she nodded her head.

If it was really Ye Xia, then she should’ve met Xie Wanwan again after leaving the dreamworld, and then she was killed. If it was a fake Ye Xia, then who impersonated Ye Xia and why did she do it? Was it Xie Wanwan? But there was no evidence…

His thinking was becoming increasingly disordered. Qi Leren had to put aside his questions first, and continue to the right corridor.

There is a faint smell of mud and blood intertwined in the air. Qi Leren touched his nose and walked softly around a corner with a dagger in hand. Deep in the front corridor, countless plants emerged from the cracks in the wall, hanging around like a green spider web. In the middle of this verdant place, Ye Xia, who was covered in blood, was covered with branches through the abdominal cavity, and countless vines and branches hung her in mid-air, like a hanged body!

With a buzz in Qi Leren's brain, he stood transfixed and saw the dead body of a person he knew, which was far more shocking than seeing a dead stranger. Especially as, not long ago, they had chatted and talked about the private topic of love. Now, seeing her dead beyond recognition, the incredible shock lingered in his heart.

It turned out that she was really dead.

When listening to Lu Youxin, he still didn't associate this fact with Ye Xia. It wasn't until he really saw Ye Xia's body that he realized that Ye Xia, who was in the same carriage with him at the beginning of the mission, was dead.

Unconsciously, his hands and feet became cold, and Qi Leren took a deep breath several times to calm his mood slightly. Only then did he climb the branches growing out of the cracks, cut the vines and branches, and put down Ye Xia's body.

Her body was cold and stiff, lying on the ground lifelessly, staring ahead wide eyed in empty horror, and her incredible expression was frozen by death at this moment.

Qi Leren glanced at her waist, her belt and other items had disappeared with her death. Like an ordinary person, she bid farewell to the world in this dangerous underground palace, even knowing who the murderer was.

He couldn’t say he didn’t know who it was either. Although iu Youxin didn't say who killed Ye Xia, as long as she saw Ye Xia's body, Qi Leren knew it.

It was Xie Wanwan, the player who could control bugs and plants.

Qi Leren sat beside Ye Xia and thought about it. Ye Xia's body really didn't look like she’d just died. The blood had dried and the body was stiff. Even if he doesn't know anything about autopsies, he also knew that this was by no means the appearance of a newly dead person. However, from leaving the dreamworld just now to discovering Ye Xia's body, it had taken only half an hour at most. That is to say, the person he met in the instance world was probably not Ye Xia herself. So, who could it be?

It is neither Ye Xia nor Lu Youxin. It is even more impossible for the several NPCs. The only option is Xie Wanwan. Although she had a feud with Ye Xia, she should know something about Ye Xia. It wasn’t a problem to pretend to be Ye Xia for a short time.

What was her motive for doing this? At that time, she could have killed him with one slash of her knife.

Oh, no, at that time, she was also trapped in the dreamworld, and urgently needed to find a way to leave, and he quickly said that he knew the clue, and it was possible that he saved his life. After that, although he had no value, they soon met Ning Zhou…

A feeling of escaping death entered Qi Leren’s heart. If Ning Zhou hadn’t appeared at that time, would he have died?

Recalling how when Ning Zhou went to lure witches, Ye Xia, who wiped the long knife, spoke to him softly and slowly, Qi Leren shuddered. At that time, did "Ye Xia" hold a murderous intent for him who was unarmed and defenseless? If Ning Zhou hadn't just led the witch back to end the dreamworld, would he have become a cold corpse like Ye Xia?

When he chewed every frame of memory carefully, he whose mind was full of Ning Zhou finally realized this belated fear. Her clasping the handle of the knife, the action of wiping the knife, her strange smile, inexplicable questions, and the murderer that almost pierced his skull under the bed. Everything became eerie and chilling.

It turned out that without realizing it, he had already brushed shoulders with death.

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The author has something to say:

PS: A mouthful of fluff may not be written in the future (some sisters guessed it before, and praised it). In fact, at first, Qi Leren guessed correctly about the conditions for being selected into the dreamworld, which are the "sacrifice", "betrayal", and "love" in the witch tips. Sacrifice corresponds to Qi Leren, betrayal corresponds to that unknown person, so I don't need to tell you who love corresponds to... hehe.

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[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

#Welcome to the Nightmare Game #欢迎来到噩梦游戏 #danmei

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abraxos-is-toothless · 4 years

Text

Surprises

Chapter 11 a day early because I couldn’t resist. A bit of a longer one this is too:)

Thank you @bryaxisthefaceofnightmares for checking this over for me😘

Full Masterlist.

Previous Chapter.

Surprises Masterlist.

I had no gif for this one because I don’t want to give things away😏

Chapter 11

—————

Cassian thought that today was going to be a quiet day with his brothers...until the girls came back with arms full of bags and a long story about each item they had bought.

He was wrong, so very wrong.

After the girls had disappeared out of the door, they had spent the first hour on cleaning up so their mother wouldn’t have to do anything when she got back from her shift at the hospital. People used to bully him often at being adopted, throwing words such as ‘bastard’ and ‘orphan’ at him, but he didn’t care. This was the best home he’d ever had, and no amount of verbal abuse would make him resent it. Ever.

It was now mid-afternoon and the girls still hadn’t come back when they were usually done by lunch, so he and his brothers decided to watch a movie, and Cassian smirked as he listened to Rhys and Az grumbling since it was his turn to pick.

“Cass, we’ve watched Mission Impossible so many times already. Can’t we watch something else?” Azriel groaned.

“It’s my turn to choose and this is what we’re watching.”

Rhys just threw a handful of popcorn at him, which he ate one by one, and relaxed in the chair as he accepted his fate.

Thirty minutes later, there was a muffled bang of the front door before feet were stomping down the stairs to the basement. He turned his head away from the TV in time to see Nesta turn the corner.

“Hey sweet-“

He stopped talking once he got a look at the murderous rage written across her face.

“You’re a dead man.”

She said it with such calmness that it actually gave Cassian chills, but she wasn’t looking at him nor Rhys - who had once been on the receiving end of her anger when she had caught him in a very compromising position with Feyre. No, this time that anger was directed at Azriel, and when he turned to look at his brother, he stood staring back - his face as white as a sheet. Before he could question her about what was wrong, his girlfriend had crossed the room, landed a right hook to his brother’s face, and had pinned him against the wall within the next second.

He moved fast then, hooking an arm around Nesta’s waist to pull her back against him and out of reach of Az, while Rhys fussed over their wounded brother.

“Nes, sweetheart, you need to calm down and use your words.”

She had stopped struggling when she realised he wasn’t letting go, but she was still tense in his arms and he flinched when she dug her nails into his forearm as she began to speak.

“He and Elain only started dating around a month ago, so I want him to explain to me how my sister is about four and a half months pregnant.”

He stilled at that and watched as Rhys turned to look at Nesta full of shock - as if he didn’t believe her at all. Azriel’s expression was full of guilt as he tried and failed to explain.

“I- We just-,” a sigh, as if he was accepting defeat. “How do you know? I- it happened at that party we threw here. The two of us were drunk and we left to go to my room when I noticed how uncomfortable she was when Cass started a game of spin the bottle. We were going to tell everyone, but we just weren’t ready.”

Fuck, it was true. His brother had knocked up the sweetest girl in existence.

“Elain was in one of the fitting rooms trying on things Feyre picked when she collapsed. She wasn’t responding and she was unconscious by the time we got the door open and I had to call an ambulance.”

Azriel was on his feet faster than a speeding bullet, scarred hands shaking as he struggled to breathe.

“Is she alright? Are they alright?” He was near sobbing as he asked.

Nesta just stared blank faced at him and both he and Rhys flinched when Az, someone that had never raised his voice in anger, shouted;

“Fucking tell me, Nesta!”

“She collapsed from dehydration, so they’ve got her hooked up to an IV to get some fluids into her.”

“What about the baby?” Az asked. His voice was soft and shaky. Cassian had never seen his brother so scared, not even when he turned up at the door bloody and burnt all those years ago.

“The baby is fine.”

He felt his heart ache slightly then when Azriel really did start sobbing, one hand clutching Rhys’ shoulder and the other covering his face. It all sunk in fully at the sight and despite the tension in the room, he grinned.

“Lainy is having a baby? I’m going to be an Uncle?”

His girlfriend turned in his arms and stared at him for a moment before closing her eyes and grimacing.

Not good.

“Not if my Father has anything to do with it. He’s on his way to the hospital and if he’s off the rails again...this will not end well.”

Really, really not good.

oOoOo

Elain had barely spoken since she had woken up in the hospital to the sound of Nesta’s angry voice and Feyre’s soothing tones.

She blinked slowly trying to open her eyes, and was met with bright lights that had her squinting. Nesta was shouting but she didn’t know who or what she was shouting at.

“What the fuck do you mean she’s pregnant?”

Oh shit, shit, shit.

Feyre’s voice was soft as she tried to calm their sister down but it didn’t seem to be working from what she could tell.

“Nes calm down and let him speak.”

The doctor was visible now and, despite how bored he sounded, she could tell that he was slightly scared of Nesta. Who wouldn’t be when faced with the person everyone called the ‘she devil’?

“I’m sorry Miss. Archeron, but your sister really is pregnant. About four months and a few weeks along, actually.”

Nesta was already storming out of the room when she finally made her mouth work.

“Fey? I di-...I was going to tell you.”

Her sister was by her side in an instant, cradling her face between her palms.

“Shh, it’s alright El. She’ll come around but, uh, Dad is on his way.”

No, no, no.

“But he’ll-...he’s going to make me-“

“Elain, listen to me. You and Azriel have clearly made a decision. I will not let him take that from you. None of us will.”

She sobbed in her sister's arms then, sobbed until her voice was hoarse and she fell asleep from exhaustion.

Now she was sitting in her hospital bed waiting for a nurse to come in to take her for an ultrasound. They wanted to double check that everything with the baby was fine, so as much as she wanted to get out of the place, she would stay. For her baby, she would do everything that was necessary. Feyre was sitting in the chair on the other side of the room reading a magazine, and Elain was just about to ask if she could have a glass of water when there was a light knock at the door and a nurse walked in with her head down.

“Now Mis- wait Archeron? Elain?”

Elain’s head snapped up to see Rhys’ mother, Azriel and Cassian’s adoptive mother, Elysia, wide-eyed and gaping slightly in the doorway. As soon as she realised it really was who was written down, she rushed over to the bed, her ‘mom mode’ dial turned right up, fretting over her and lifting a hand to cup one side of her face.

“Gods, Elain, I had no idea you were here. If I had known I’d have come right away. This says you’re pregnant, is that, is it true?"

“Yes.”

She said it as a whisper, knowing what question would come next and silently bracing herself for the woman’s next reaction.

“Who’s the father? Is it Lucien?”

This is going to be fun.

“No ma’am, it’s not. The father is Azriel.”

She expected to see anger and disappointment on Elysia’s face, but instead she saw shock and surprise. It looked like she had no idea that Elain and Az were together, but there was a smile on her face as she spoke again.

“I’m going to be a Grandma? And what’s all of this ‘ma’am’ business? How many times do I have to tell you girls to call me Lys?”

All she could do was smile warily and nod, and then the next thing she knew, she was brought into a bone crushing hug.

“I haven’t had a chance to have a real conversation with the boys in weeks with all of the overtime and extra shifts, I had no idea you were together. I’m going to be right here every step of the way now though, although I do wish you’d waited a while longer.”

“I’m sorry, Lys.”

“Nonsense. Now, let me get that ultrasound done, yes? Once they realise what I am to you they won’t let me do another, but you’ll be waiting forever for another nurse.”

While Elysia fiddled around with the machine, Feyre came over with a grin and helped her adjust her shirt ready. Before she had the horribly cold gel squeezed onto her abdomen, Elysia asked her one final question that Elain had no idea would scare her so much, but make her so incredibly excited all at once.

“Before we start, would you like to know the gender of your baby?”

Yes, yes she would.

oOoOo

It had been half an hour since Feyre had phoned Nesta to say they were on the way home, the Archeron’s home, and Azriel had run straight to his car, eager to meet them there. The others had followed, because of course they would. Nesta had told him that his mother knew now, as she had ended up being Elain’s nurse, and that their father had never turned up at the hospital. His brothers were almost vibrating with energy, obviously hoping to witness the scolding he would surely soon receive from their mother.

He was now pacing in front of the steps to the house, waiting for his mother’s familiar car to pull into the driveway and by the time he did see it, he was surprised he hadn’t burned a hole into the floor. As soon as Elain had stepped out of the car and began walking towards the house, he was running and he didn’t stop until he’d reached her and lifted her into his arms.

“Gods, you scared me so fucking much Ellie. You’re not leaving my sight again.”

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He put her back onto her feet, but didn’t let go of her, keeping her tucked into his chest. He kissed all over her face before reluctantly pulling back and linking their hands together.

“But, you’re alright now though? Everything’s okay?”

“Yes, I’m alright, I promise.”

He didn’t want to ask the next question, but he had to. He had to know or he’d drive himself mad with worry.

“And the baby?”

Elain smiled at him then. That wide and beautifully bright smile that made him feel as if his legs would give out under him.

“Yes, she’s fine too.”

She. A girl.

He was going to have a girl, a beautiful little girl. He cried then, in front of everyone, lifting Elain back into his arms as he breathed out three little words that he hadn’t realised he’d felt until that moment.

“I love you. God, I love you.”

Azriel heard the catch in her breath before she crashed her mouth into his. It was hard and rough before he slowed it down, making it gentler. Their families were watching, but, in that moment, he didn’t care. He parted her lips with his as he tangled a hand in her hair, swallowing her moan as he ran his tongue across the roof of her mouth. She bit his lip and pulled before letting go and he felt the words as she spoke them... making it feel so much more intimate.

“I love you too.”

He tucked her face into the crook of his neck and then looked over her shoulder to see his mother with tears in her eyes, grinning widely at them both. Just as he was about to smile back, the sound of a car engine stopped him, and they all turned to see a car speeding into the drive, watching as it almost swerved into a wall. It pulled to a screeching stop, and then the girls’ father was stumbling out of the driver’s door, clearly drunk as he swayed from side to side with a half empty beer bottle in his hand. When he caught sight of Elain in Azriel’s arms, his face turned murderous.

And then he was coming at them, and Az only had a second to push Elain behind him before her father pulled back his arm with the bottle in his hand.

—————

*peeks from my hidey hole* I want you all to remember that I love you😬 Let me know if you want to be removed/added to the tags💙

Tags: @starlitfangirl @starsauroras @drunken-starz @myfriendscallmeraba @thesirenwashere @empress-sei @elrielllll @stars-falling @cirieael @verifiefangirl @theshadowsinger-and-thefawn @fancyclodpaintercookie @acourtofterrasenandvelaris @silver-flames @queen-of-glass @bamchickawowow @empress-ofbloodshed @sleeping-and-books @b00kworm @kvi-arts @rhysandhlcor @tswaney17 @awkward-avocado-s @judexcardanxgreenbriar @junkiejosten10 @mu-si-ca-l @agem10 @harmonyindark245 @slightly-sane-fangirl @tanaquilpriscilla

#acotar #acotar fic #elain archeron #azriel #elain x azriel #elriel #surprises #surprises fic #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #rhysand #cassian #cassian pov #my fic #rhys’ mother is here #i gave her a name #haz writes

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words-writ-in-starlight · 3 years

Note

okay, i'm taking that as an invitation: PLEASE post your annotations for the kencyrath playlist?

OKAY SURE TWIST MY ARM I GUESS

Actually this playlist is...long as hell, BUT there’s only like twelve people in this fandom and I’m in a group chat with half of them, so everything is here but it’s got a cut for length because my annotations are Specific.

THE BASICS (in no particular order)

Can’t Cheat Death by the Ballroom Thieves, for Jame, no further comment, I am Correct

I spilled blood in the water Then let the storm roll in I put my hands in the fire Watched my welcome wear thin Salt in my wounds and spit in my eye I burned the path you walk on And I let none survive

Thistles and Weeds by Mumford & Sons, for Torisen, who is a good leader and also falling apart

Spare me your judgements and spare me your dreams Cause recently mine have been tearing my seams I sit alone in this winter clarity which clouds my mind

Hey Brother by Avicii, for Jame and Tori, in all ways

Hey brother, do you still believe in one another? Hey sister, do you still believe in love, I wonder? Oh, if the sky comes falling down For you, there's nothing in this world I wouldn't do

Human by Rag’n’Bone Man, for Kindrie Soul-walker, out of his depth and doing his best

Maybe I'm foolish, maybe I'm blind Thinking I can see through this and see what's behind Got no way to prove it, so maybe I'm lying

Soldier, Poet, King by the Oh Hellos, for the Tyr-ridan (I have considered learning to draw SPECIFICALLY to do a comic of this song featuring Jame as the soldier, Kindrie as the poet, and Tori as the king, but I couldn’t pick a verse because it’s not a very long song)

Home to Me by Devil and the Deep Blue Sea, for Jame and Tori, which I would ALSO do a line-by-line breakdown of as a duet, because I love it for them

(Tori) How dare you love me like you've never known fear When you've got more troubles than minutes in the year (Jame) And a voice like your father's tells you nothing good's for free Well that may be, but you're walking home to me

Dear Wormwood by the Oh Hellos, the ORIGINAL Bane/Jame song, for which I could easily do a line-by-line breakdown cast as a duet between them, the song that I, personally, would set over their last conversation before Bane’s death and over Jame’s flight from the palace, if I was making a TV series, just, you know, if anyone wants to kick me a couple million bucks

I know who I am now And all that you've made of me I know who you are now And I name you my enemy

Glitter & Gold by Barns Courtney, for the Kendar, survivors to the last

Do you walk in the valley of kings? Do you walk in the shadow of men Who sold their lives to a dream? Do you ponder the manner of things In the dark?

Delilah by Florence + the Machine, for Jamethiel Dreamweaver, the first unfallen darkling, the finest weapon and cruelest victim of the Master’s schemes, and for her daughter, who saw more and ran faster

Too fast for freedom Sometimes it all falls down These chains never leave me I keep dragging them around

We Have It All by Pim Stones, for Tyrandis, just...listen to it, I’m right

There's glory ahead, but our love will be forgotten If my heart was still mine, I would go to the bottom And apologise to you until the day it went rotten

Mercy Down by Shayfer James, which is THE definitive song for the entire Kencyrath--half-desperate for their missing destiny, half-terrified of that destiny when it shows up at their door.

It’s getting mythical now You better pick your weapons up And throw your mercy, throw your mercy down

THE EXTENDED STUFF (loosely sorted by topic)

Control by Halsey, for Jame, heir to the Dreamweaver, Snare-of-Souls, and learning to dance and running away

They sent me away to find them a fortune A chest filled with diamonds and gold The house was awake, with shadows and monsters The hallways, they echoed and groaned

Little Boy by Barns Courtney, for Torisen holding the bones of a little girl who died at the same age as his long lost twin sister

Little boy inside my chest Breathe some life into my bones I've been lost and wandering Down and out and missing home

The Draw by Bastille, for Torisen and the shade of Ganth and the promise of madness on a sleepless night

Don't listen to your friends See the despair behind their eyes Don't listen to your friends They only care and want to know why

Carry Your Throne by Jon Bellion, for Jame and Tori at their best, kissing in the ashfall and dancing in Tentir

Two crowns and a gold cup And they're coming for the throne, love But if your heart is a dog fight Then I'm ready to go to war like

Coming Down by Halsey, for Jame and the twin she loves, who is always, always running away from her

Every single night pray the sun will rise Every single time make a compromise Every single night pray the sun will rise, but It's coming down, down, coming down

Graveyard by Halsey, for Jame and Tori and dreams and the soulscape and running and chasing and trying

I keep running when both my feet hurt I won't stop 'til I get where you are Oh, when you go down all your darkest roads I woulda followed all the way to the graveyard

Thick as Thieves by Shinedown, for Jame and Tori, who can barely have a civil conversation but still manage to be each other’s answer to the concept of ‘home’

Evidently, we can't work it out I guess that courage ain't allowed Evidently, you're not in the mood And everything I say just bothers you

The Horror of Our Love by Ludo, for Bane and Jame, and blood and binding, and shadows crossing continents

I'm a killer, cold and wrathful Silent sleeper, I've been inside your bedroom I've murdered half the town Left you love notes on their headstones I'll fill the graveyards until I have you

Irresistible by Fall Out Boy, for Bane in Tai-tastigon, a prince of the city and a monster in his beloved’s kitchen

Too many war wounds and not enough wars Too few rounds in the ring and not enough settled scores Too many sharks, not enough blood in the waves You know I give my love a four letter name

Hellfire by Barns Courtney, for Bane, giving your soul to the wrong person, and the Lower Town

Run in an alleyway Through a dead end street Murdering promises That I just can't keep

Punch Drunk Grinning Soul by Flogging Molly, for all the Kendar who keep surviving disasters while their people fall all around them, and especially for Marc and Brier

But these tired eyes are crashing down on me While the paint never dries on these four walls that now suffocate me But tonight, maybe tonight all will be free

Sleepsong by Bastille, for soulscapes and locked doors and armor and hidden gardens and a whole race with a collective unconscious who still manage to be awfully lonely

Oh, in the strangest dreams, walking by your side It is the hole you impose upon your life When you're out, loneliness, it crawls up in the ground It's what you feel, but can't articulate out loud

Bad Decisions by Bastille, for Tentir and all the children there who thought they were immortal

Do you remember what you said to me? 'Cause we lost track of time Yeah, we lost track of time You always let me down so tenderly So live fast and die young and stay forever numb

For The Departed by Shayfer James, for every Kendar who’s ever sold a soul, broken under Honor’s Paradox, died in service, and gone unremembered

So dry your eyes and count to ten They'll have me on the pyre by then Forget the man I used to be You'll move along more easily

Bones by MS MR, for death banners, and for the dead of Kithorn, and for Dalis-sar, depending on my mood

Dig up her bones but leave the soul alone Let her find a way to a better place Broken dreams and silent screams Empty churches with soulless curses We found a way to escape the day

I Am Stretched On Your Grave by Dead Can Dance, for sisterkin, for the massacre of the Knorth women, but especially for Brenwyr and her ghost and her maledight madness

Calling out to the air With tears both hot and wild Oh I grieve for the girl That I loved as a child

NFWMB by Hozier, for Brenwyr and Aerulan (and could be for Jame and Tori but he’s, you know, an ostrich with his head buried in his own trauma)

Ain't it a gentle sound, the rolling in the graves? Ain't it like thunder under earth, the sound it makes? Ain't it exciting you, the rumble where you lay? Ain't you my baby, ain't you my baby?

Church by Fall Out Boy, for everyone who’s ever fallen in love with Jame, from Dally to Torisen

Oh, the things that you do in the Name of what you love You are doomed but just enough

Renegades by X Ambassadors, for the good times in Tai-tastigon with Dally and Canden

It's our time to make a move It's our time to make amends It's our time to break the rules Let's begin

Breath of Life by Florence + the Machine, for everyone who’s ever fallen to the Knorth glamour and paid dearly for it

But I needed one more touch Another taste of heavenly rush And I believe, I believe it's so

#kencyrath #chronicles of the kencyrath #jame priests bane #torisen black lord #kindrie soul walker #and...everyone else basically. eventually.#i have BIG thoughts about some of these (like dear wormwood and home to me and hey brother. just as a sample.)#and others (like punch drunk grinning soul) i just threw on there because I Vibed With It #THERE'S NO SYSTEM except also the system is elaborate #i certainly can't explain it either way #this was a delightful way to cruise comfortably down off a day of hyperfocus #i love these books so much #i love the music i put together for them #it all just FEELS very on point to me personally #AND IN A FANDOM THIS SMALL WHAT ELSE MATTERS #well actually in any fandom what else matters #i think i am losing focus here #a queue we shall keep and our honor someday avenge #smallblueandloud #asked and answered

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etlunainmorte · 3 years

Text

DMC MECHA VERSE: Part 2

( Because, yes! ❤❤❤😍😍😍 )

This is my Christmas gift to my dear friend, @dreaming-gamer . And the part 2 of my DMC Mecha Opera, err,... Alternate Universe! I hope you like this as much as I enjoyed writing this!😍😍😍❤❤❤

***

Previously,...

Without strength, you can't protect anything!

Nero took Credo out to visit Dante, the best Mecha Pilot Rubrum has ever seen, to prove to him that he’s worthy to be accepted as a student in the planet's most prestigious Mecha school, The Tyger University. But, on his way towards the legendary Pilot's residence, he saw a group of unknown Mecha chasing after the man, himself! And behind the Red Justice Rebellion's back was a mysterious metal case - containing Tigris Dominus' most lethal of all lethal secrets!

If you truly are righteous, you should not be running away from these men! You should face them as a man of justice should!

At first, our hero doubted Dante's intentions. Why was he running away? Why were these men chasing him? What,... was he hiding?!

Luckily for Dante, Nero listened to his heart and chose to protect him. He fought with Nico's underdeveloped Mecha, Credo, but ended up failing when he activated the not – so perfected laser beam!

All seemed lost, Nero and Dante were going to die!

I'm taking my,... time!

That was, until the mysterious thing that was concealed inside the metal case behind Rebellion's back showed itself. It was a man,... WHO TRANSFORMED INTO A MECHA!

A human,... who can turn into a machine?! What an unbelievable sight! And what a powerful being it was! With a single laser beam attack, he annihilated the enemies!

What is Dante's connection to this mysterious man? Why is he running away with him like a convicted man?

And most importantly, what would happen to Nero now that he is involved with the most destructive secret in the face of planet Rubrum?!

***

"Are you sure we would be safe here?" The Legendary Mecha Pilot, Dante, asked for the fourth time that evening as Nero led him, and the mysterious dark - haired man, who transformed into that powerful, mystical Mecha, into Nico's spacious secret facility.

"I told you! We're gonna be safe here. Trust me." And as much as Nero wanted to be more patient towards the Pilot and his strange behaviors, he could not shake off the foreboding feeling that began plaguing his head.

Especially when he gazed at that unconscious man in Dante's arms.

A man,... who could transform into a Mecha. And Dante being pursued by those Pilots who seemed to be working for Mundus, all because the famous Pilot took this man away,...

As soon as the men, and their slightly malfunctioning Mechas, were settled inside the dark facility, Nero made his way towards the corner of the room to look for the light switch. He was so itching to interrogate Dante about all this, and interrogate him, he shall.

"Now, as much as I admire you as the greatest Mecha Pilot in the Universe," The youth began. " ... you must tell me why - "

However, as soon as Nero opened the lights, he was shocked! Beyond surprise!

For, right before them stood Nico, and none other than Nero's mother, Queenie, herself. And what's more, right behind the ladies was a table full of Nero's favorite home cooked meals, and a large poster on the wall that says, "CONGRATULATIONS, ON YOUR PROMOTION, NERO!"

They were supposed to surprise him! And they were speechless! It looked like they were waiting for him to return for hours! But, they didn't only see Nero, they saw Dante, his Rebellion, the steaming Credo, and the unconscious mysterious man, as well!

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOIN' ON HERE?!" Eyes as wide as saucers, Nico questioned, the unused party popper still in her hands.

"Nero, sweetie, are you alright?" Queenie asked worriedly as her eyes bounced from Nero to Dante to the man in his arms, then back to her son.

It took Nero and Dante almost an hour to explain everything that went on earlier that day, how Nero was going to visit Dante, how he found the Rebellion being chased, and how this enigmatic man, now lying on the couch, still unconscious, saved them from certain death.

And by the time Nero finished explaining, Queenie got even more worried, and Nico started fuming even more in sheer anger.

"So, you're saying," Nico began, her voice getting dangerously low that it honestly scared both Nero and Dante. " ... YOU TOOK CREDO OUT,... JUST TO SHOW OFF IN FRONT OF DANTE?!"

"Well, I - " Nero tried to explain but, he was interrupted as Nico's cigar - stained, tattooed finger almost punctured his left shoulder.

"AND YOU'RE SAYING CREDO, MY GRANDMOTHER NELL'S MOST PRIZED CREATION, IS NOW DAMAGED BEYOND REPAIR BECAUSE YOU USED HIS UNDERDEVELOPED LASER BLAST?!"

"It's not what you think - !"

"AND YOU BROKE YOUR PROMISE TO NOT TAKE CREDO OUT! HOW. DARE. YOU! PSYCHO!"

"To be perfectly frank here," Nero thanked the Heaven's that Dante decided to intervene. Ignoring the youth's dagger gazes at him that clearly to ask for rescue, he went on. " ... Credo,... ahh, did I get the name right?"

"Damn straight ye did!" Nico huffed indignantly, crossing her arms and looking down at Dante with such ferocity.

"Ah, yes, Credo." Dante calmly went on, and with a smile and a single wink at Nero, he said, "You see, Credo is not Nell Goldstein's most prized work."

"Huh?" Nico muttered, raising her eyebrows.

And with this, Dante smirked and pointed at the Rebellion behind him with his thumb. "The Red Sword Of Justice, Rebellion. That's one of Nell Goldstein's Mecha masterpieces. You could say, that's made just for me."

"You're kidding." Nico blabbered without a single blink of an eye, unable to believe Dante's words. "H - how is that Nell's work? I thought Mundus and his scientists developed Rebellion?"

Dante sighed. "Well, you don't know a lot of things about Nell and Mundus! They go way back, you know?"

"Yeah, granny used to say that." Nico's walls were finally breached at the famous Pilot's words. And with a growing curiosity and fascination towards the Red Mecha, she now politely asked, "Hey, uhh, can I go s - see the Rebellion?"

"Ehh, sure! Whatever." Dante tiredly answered as he collapsed on the sofa right next to the dark - haired mystery man. Throwing the Rebellion's key at Nico, he added, "You'd even see Nell's original programming in it. One of Mundus' mad scientists tinkered with it and replaced it with one of his. Kinda made to synchronize with the other Mechs. You know? For tracing. But, don't worry! I put it back the way it is just before I threw my own ass out of Tigris. Spent the whole night working on it.”

With a huge smile on her face, and the golden key on her hands, Nico said, running towards the red Mecha, "This is a brand new discovery! I'm gonna take note of all of this!"

"Yeah, yeah." Dante muttered as the smile slowly faded away from his face. Looking at Nero, he asked in a whisper, "She’s really Nell's grandkid?"

Nero nodded. "Yeah, she is."

"Well, kinda hard to say! They don't exactly, ahh, look similar."

"You're not the first one. She gets that a lot."

"Hmm."

Nero sat at the chair opposite Dante, and with such curiosity burning at the back of his mind, he began asking. "Nell and Mundus went their separate ways. You left him. Nell tried to develop machines to match Mundus', you ran away with," Nero's eyes wandered towards the peaceful face of the dark - haired man sleeping on the sofa, then back at the renowned Pilot's eyes. " ... that." Nero ended with the word, unsure how to call the man - creature who saved his skin from danger. "Why are you, guys, plotting against Mundus? I mean, why are you,... hey!"

Nero's eyebrows furrowed when Dante began laughing quite hysterically. And this unnerved the youth, and scared the living hell out of his mother, who remained silent all throughout their conversation.

"Me and Nell? Plotting against Mundus?!" Dante mocked through his fits of uncontrolled laughter. Then, all of a sudden, all traces of amusement vanished from the Pilot's face, to be replaced with something that was truly menacing. "No, we're not plotting against Mundus. Mundus,... is plotting against the whole Universe."

"What?!" Nero was beyond shocked of what he just heard. It's truly unbelievable! "Y - you must be joking! You - "

"Mundus, for all his goody - two shoes farce of a leader, wanted nothing more than to dominate all the planets in existence." Dante began, his voice only being slightly interrupted by Nico's excited remarks on the Rebellion a few feet away from them. "And for that to happen, he wanted this kind of power that would give unlimited energy to his Mechas. He has been searching, for twenty goddamn years, for this source of power.

"And guess what? He found it! Right on a certain far - flung crimson planet on the neighborhood galaxy! The one planet we knew only as a myth! You know Operation Red Grave?"

"Y - yeah." Nero nervously answered, feeling his sweat and blood running colder and colder at the Pilot's relentless revelations. Giving a sad look to his mother right next to him, he said, "My father, who worked for Mundus, went along with that operation. He never returned, we never found out why."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear about that, kid, but, what do you remember about Operation Red Grave?" Dante went on, seemingly becoming more and more impatient.

Racking his brain for answers, Nero set aside his feelings towards the parent who abandoned him and his mother for a while and tried to recall the events that took place twenty years ago. "It's, ahh,... Operation Red Grave was launched by Mundus to repel the Rubrum rebels who fled into this neighbor planet and take into custody the innocent civilians they kidnapped and tried to murder."

"Don't you find it strange? If there are rebels, Mundus would not let them flee into another planet in the first place!"

"So you're saying it's all a farce?"

"Exactly! It's a huge, goddamn cover up! To kidnap the innocent civilians of the mythical crimson planet! And why?" Dante leaned a bit closer towards Nero as his eyes travelled to the man who was lying right next to him. Nero followed the direction of his eyes and realized,... everything.

It doesn't take genius brain cells to figure out what's truly going on.

Nero,... finally realized.

"This man," Nero said, feeling his voice shaking in fear. " ... he lived on that crimson planet, didn't he? Mundus,... is going to use him to power up his Mechas, isn't he?"

"Yes." Dante answered with a nod, his eyes as furious as they can be. "The pain he and his men went through. The torture they endured. It was a horrible, horrible nightmare! Mundus' mad scientists drained his fellowmen of all their power in many ways you would never dream of. They did it for power and still failed.

"And this man. He is the only one left. And he is very strong, as you have witnessed. That power you just saw? That's just the tip of the iceberg! This man tried to help what remained of his fellowmen to escape and nearly annihilated Tigris Dominus all by himself!"

"Wait! Is that," Nero interrupted as the pieces of the puzzle started coming together. " ... last year's Mecha facility malfunction that killed thousands of men? That was caused by this man?! It's another huge cover up?!"

"A FREAKIN' TRIPLE LASER BLAST AT THREE TIMES THE AVERAGE SPEED?!" Nico's voice from inside the Rebellion echoed all over the place all of a sudden. "HOOEE! THAT'S GENIUS MECHA ENGINEERIN' RIGHT THERE!"

"Got that damn straight, kid." Dante confirmed.

"What happened?" Nero asked, starting to feel pity towards this man he never even personally knew.

Dante shook his head with a pained look in his face. "Mundus ordered us to massacre those few remaining captives right before this poor guy's eyes. Sent him into panic mode. Got neutralized even before he got a chance to retaliate. Hold up a second right there. I disobeyed Mundus on the massacre part. That's why I was - "

"Sent to a military probation camp for a month, I know." Nero finished for Dante. "The media pretty much bloated it up, you know?"

"Punished for running away with nobleman Morrison's ward?!" The Pilot added. "That's bullshit! I don't even have the hots for Lady Patty Lowell! If you ask me, I'd rather go out with Lady Mary or Lady Tr - "

"Mundus surely values you as a Pilot." Nero cut him off mid - sentence. "Would have killed you for insubordination right then and there, you know?"

"Sure, he does! He raised us, yeah? We're the most talented men on the face of Rubrum, after all!"

Wait, us? "What do you mean by - ?"

"Anyway, we can't let Mundus get a hold of poetry guy right here. If he does, that marks the start of the apocalypse, as we know it."

"So,... that's," Nero said, slowly nodding in agreement. " ... what you mean before when you said he must not fall into the wrong hands, or something."

Dante held up a finger. "Close enough!" Then, rubbing his hands together, he added, "Do you have pizza right there? I'm starving!"

"I'm not sure about pizza but, yeah, go help yourself." Nero said as he watched the renowned Pilot, now wanted man, waltz towards the table to help himself with some chicken legs that Queenie herself cooked.

And Queenie?

"Hey, mom?" Nero was not surprised to see his mother so upset. After all, who could handle those facts that Dante just revealed and still remain calm?

However, this changed when the youth faced Queenie and convinced her to speak up.

"You okay there, mom?" Nero gently asked, his hand on her frail and bony shoulder.

Queenie faced her son and right then and there, Nero saw the tears in her kind blue eyes. And this broke the youth's heart. "I can't allow you to be involved with this, Nero."

"But, why? We can't just sit by and let Mundus do as he wants! Don't you understand? The whole Universe counts on us!"

"No! I won't let you fight this war! I lost your father, I won't ever lose you!"

That man,... Nero thought. She mentioned that man again. She must be really, really hurt.

"Mom, father left us, plain and simple! He was not fighting any war, nor protecting innocent, mythical beings like - "

"He did!" Everyone, even Nico, who heard Queenie's voice all the way towards Rebellion's cockpit, went silent when she raised her voice. "This,... Operation Red Grave. This mythical crimson planet. This,... abominable creature,… who turns into a deadly machine,...

"Your father,... tried to stop Mundus' plans! He tried to save each and every one of these creatures! All for the sake of mankind and the Universe! He,... single handedly fought Tigris Dominus, and Mundus, all by himself!

"And he was mercilessly killed! All because of Mundus' selfish needs! All because he went ahead and pretended to be the hero! But, the truth is – he was not!”

Nero felt a huge lump blocking his throat the moment he saw Queenie bursting into tears. The room was still silent, and he couldn't do anything else but watch as she quietly wept.

And, above all, he was speechless at what he just found out.

"You,... knew about Mundus' plans? Right from the very start?"

"Y - yes!" Queenie cried. “He,… told me everything,… before he left.”

"And you knew what really happened to dad but, you didn't tell me. Why?"

"You have to understand, Nero! I'm only trying to protect you - "

"Why did you hide all this?!" Nero stood, helpless, feeling his emotions getting the better of him. "I thought dad just left us. I mean, you knew all this time, and you didn't tell me?! Why did you lie to me, mom?! Answer me!”

"Nero, please - !"

"Erm, excuse me." Dante, who was still holding a chicken leg, now bitten on some parts, interrupted, getting between her and Nero and feeling really, really awkward. Facing the mother, he cautiously asked, "Ahh, your sweetheart who got killed by Mundus and his men. What's his name?"

"Vergil." Both mother and son answered.

And to this, the legendary Pilot's eyes widened in shock. Dropping the chicken leg onto the floor, he breathlessly mumbled, "O - oh, s - shit - !"

"What's wrong, Dante?" Nero asked, getting confused and impatient with the older man.

"W - well," Dante began. " ... y - you see, h - he's - "

"Ahh, Dante?" Nico nervously called from the Rebellion. "I see red dots on your monitor getting closer and closer to our location. Is that supposed to mean something important?"

"SHIT! THE TRACER!” Dante cursed. “I WASN’T ABLE TO OVERRIDE THAT PART OF THE CODE! MUNDUS FOUND US!"

The moment those words came out of Dante's lips, all of them heard an awful and deafening noise seemingly made by something mechanical, followed by a huge explosion that wrecked the wall of the once protected facility. The impact almost threw them away but, they were all protected by Credo, who was standing just between the wrecked wall and them.

And now, Nell Goldstein's prototype, The Creed 001, or simply known as Credo, lay in multiple pieces they couldn't even count.

"CREDO!" Nico, who was still inside Rebellion clinging for dear life, wailed. Her cries were followed by a voice that made their blood run cold. It seemed to come from a Mecha's speaker, its volume turned up to maximum.

"I know you're there, Dante, my son." That sinister voice said. It was, indeed, none other than Mundus, himself.

"Still as persistent as ever, are we, dad?!" Dante mocked, emphasizing the word, dad.

"Oh, you know the drill, my son." The voice that seemed to ring all over the place went on. "Surrender the Vitalis now, and none of your friends would be harmed."

"Oh, yeah?" Dante threatened, all the while signaling Nero and the others to carry the still unconscious man away from the place and escape. "And when was the last time you fulfilled a promise, huh?"

"Hahaha! Your foolishness would not get you anywhere, Dante! And it seems that you are still unwilling to accept my mercy even after I’ve done all acts of kindness towards you.”

"Mercy? Kindness?" Dante spout, giving Nero the angry look when he realized that they wouldn't leave without him. "Do you have,... any idea,... how much I've heard that exact same line from you?! You're a liar! And the Vitalis is not going anywhere! You,… WILL NEVER HAVE V!”

Dante's words were followed by a deathly silence that filled the room. And it was followed by a voice so horrific, it frightened the living hell out of them.

"And so be it."

What happened next went by in a blur. Dante angrily shouting at them to take cover, Nero protecting his mother and the said Vitalis with his own body, and Nico ducking inside the Rebellion as multiple laser beams assaulted them with the full intention of killing all of them.

However, the laser blasts didn't even reach their bodies. In fact, the multiple blasts of blinding light stopped suspended in mid air. As if time, itself, stopped. And when Nero looked beneath him, his eyes went wide with shock. He found his mother safe and sound but, the Vitalis was nowhere to be found. The youth looked up and saw the mysterious dark - haired man, himself, now wide awake, standing between him and the laser blasts that could've ended their lives. He seemed to be projecting, with his strangely marked hands, a force field that protected them like a very strong shield.

A few seconds later, Nero heard the Vitalis muttering something under his breath, and the multiple blasts of light slowly started moving towards them once more. At the blink of an eye, the blasts of light sped up towards them at their normal pace once more, and the Vitalis countered this by making another gesture that projected a seemingly electrical kind of force field that enveloped them like a pair of bright blue wings. The blasts of light flew towards the shield of wings and got instantly annihilated as they made contact with it.

"What,... the hell - ?" Dante muttered as he witnessed everything that's happening.

And even before Mundus could make another move, the Vitalis snapped his fingers.

The last things Nero saw that night was the Vitalis' hair turning from jet - black to white, and the whole room being engulfed in blinding light. As if he's died and gone to Heaven.

***

TO BE CONTINUED!

***

#Vitale #DMC5 #Devil May Cry 5 #dmc5 dante #dmc5 nero #dmc5 nico #DMC MECHA VERSE #Part 2

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igirisuhito · 4 years

Text

Title: Afflicted Relationship(s): Kamukura Izuru/Komaeda Nagito Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito Rating: Mature Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / ? Chapter Summary: Komaeda weighs his options, Kuzuryuu begrudgingly listens to his worries Trigger Warnings: Panic attacks, mental breakdown, dismissing mental illness, IV stuff

[Ao3 Link]

┈┈┈┈․° ☣ °․┈┈┈┈

Hinata was sprawled out on the floor lying face up. His body was lifeless, save for the occasional twitches of his fingers and eyelids as neurons and muscles misfired in a feeble attempt to keep him conscious.

I knelt down, taking the boy's heated face into my hands and angling it up towards mine. He was incredibly pale, the only colour remaining on porcelain skin the flush of his fever. His breathing was slow and shallow, every little warm breath close enough to taste on my lips as I leaned in close. There was no way I couldn't begin to panic when he was in such a state.

"Hinata-kun! I understand if you're so repulsed by my actions that you've passed out, and I know it's more than I should ask of you..." The words came out of my mouth too rushed and barely intelligible, so I took a deep breath. "But please give me some sign you're okay."

My hands were beginning to shake, enough so that my hold on Hinata’s face became too loose to support the weight of his head. His face slipped from my grasp, his head lolling to the side as a soft gasp escaped my lips.

Did I kill Hinata-kun? No, that's ridiculous. You can't kill somebody by kissing them. I mean, you can, technically, but not like this. Surely not?

I wiped the remaining saliva from my lips, subtle evidence of a possible cause of death. Carefully rising to my feet, I stared down at Hinata’s weakened form. Fear was beginning to take hold, anxiety burning through my bloodstream and forcing me to move.

I can't lose him, not to such a hopeless cause. Hinata-kun didn't deserve to die such a pointless death by my hands, he deserved something grandiose, something exhilarating.

This kind of death would just be… boring. Wasteful.

"Tsumiki-san!!" I called out, my feet setting into motion as I made a dash for the room's exit. For a second, I felt a passing relief that Hinata had collapsed before Tsumiki had accidentally seen the repulsive things I was doing, but quickly scolded myself for thinking such a selfish thought. Hinata’s life was in danger and here I was glad that Tsumiki didn’t see me sucking face with him? How pathetic.

There was no doubt about it. It was my own luck that had caused Hinata to pass out. It was protecting me from being caught preying on him. That realisation caused something deep within my chest to ache with repulsion, dread, undiluted terror.

Despair.

I can only assume it was that same twisted luck that guided me into Tsumiki's arms, causing me to bump straight into her as she was coming into the room. All of the school's advice against running into halls went wasted on the likes of me. We slammed hard into one another with an "Oof."

As Tsumiki went crashing to the floor, the saline bag in her hand was squished into her chest, causing it to burst and soak her clothes with salty water. They stuck to her body damply, clinging to her skin in an erotic way. Her skirt had also flown up in the process, flashing me with an inappropriate amount of thigh along with her white underwear.

"Uwahh! K-K-K-Komaeda-san!!" She squealed, pulling her skirt down in a desperate attempt to save her dignity as her face flushed a bright red.

"A-ah, I'm so sorry you had to even accidentally touch somebody as disgusting as me!" I reached out a hand, offering to help her up. "My apologies for running, but it appears that Hinata-kun has collapsed."

"Wahh?! D-D-Don't worry about me, t-that's what you should be concerned about!" Tsumiki grabbed my hand, allowing me to help pull her up to her feet.

Without another word she scooted past me and into the room, abandoning the spilt saline bag on the floor. She practically pounced on Hinata's lifeless body, throwing herself into her brilliant talent as she pressed her ear to his chest and a hand to his forehead.

“He- he’s burning right up! Wh-why was he even out of bed? What was he doing before he collapsed?!" She began exasperated throwing a flurry of questions at me, all whilst examining Hinata's eyes for any sign of possible head trauma.

"He was…" I paused, teeth teasing unconsciously at my bottom lip. "Kissing me. We were making out."

The nurse's head snapped around in a fashion not so dissimilar to the creepy way an owl's would turn unnaturally. Her grey eyes bore right into me with an expression of rage mixed with shock. "A-are you s-s-serious?! K-Komaeda-san that's so irresponsible! You should know that you'll catch th--"

“Of course not!” I slid my hands up the sides of my arms, gripping at the sleeves of my jacket as I pulled my eyes away from Tsumiki’s. “Don't you know that kind of thing only happens in fiction? It would be repulsive for somebody like me to take advantage of an Ultimate’s illness for my own selfish desires. The very thought makes me want to vomit in my mouth!”

Tsumiki narrowed her eyes for a second, before realisation set in and they shot back open. “O-oh! I see…”

“Ha, hahahah.” Bringing my hand to my mouth, I touched my lips absentmindedly and glanced towards Hinata's body still laid out on the floor.

Was it wrong of me to say that? I can't have Tsumiki knowing of my intentions, she would stop me without hesitation. Perhaps the others would tie me up again, then I would miss the murder and the investigation... how awful. But, I can't shake this odd feeling that this is the wrong thing, that I should tell the truth. There is a possibility that not being honest about the cause of Hinata's fainting spell could lead to complications further on.

It could even be the one thing that leads to his death. After all, his condition is somewhat worse than Owari or Mioda's…

But owning up would reveal our intentions and likely ruin any chance of allowing the Ultimates to shine even brighter…

No. I shook my head free of the thoughts. The silence had dragged on long enough, Tsumiki was going to start questioning my words unless I spoke up soon.

“Well then… should we move him?”

"R-right!" With a few fervent nods, Tsumiki hopped off Hinata's body. "Yes! Please help me get him onto the bed so I can properly tend to Hinata-san's needs!"

Hinata-san's needs… huh?

Nodding in return, I brought myself back to Hinata's side and knelt down to the floor. "Well then, would you be okay getting his legs?"

"O-of course!" Scrambling to his legs, Tsumiki quickly slid her arms under the back of Hinata's knees. "I'm r-ready to lift him when-whenever you are."

I hooked my arms under his armpits, making sure not to take note of just how damp and sweaty he was with fever. There was a moment of eye contact, a quick nod, and then we both lifted him.

Thankfully the hospital rooms were so small, we didn't have to move Hinata incredibly far to return him to his bed. Tsumiki rearranged his sheets, carefully tucking Hinata back under the dull blue comforter as she examined his arms.

"I-I-I was coming to re-replace his IV… but it l-looks like he's p-pulled it out…" With a rather disdainful expression, she glanced over to the IV pole. "Again…"

Just as she had said, Hinata's line was pooled on the floor, the small tube that had presumably been in his arm now having smeared blood on the floor. The machine had stopped infusing, in fact it had been switched off entirely so as to not alert Tsumiki, and now the remaining fluid in the line had drained onto the floor.

"He's been rather uncharacteristically troublesome, hasn't he?" I couldn't help but chuckle, glancing over at the restless, almost pained look on Hinata's face. "I'm sorry, it's reprehensible that I would laugh at your struggle, but I could never see Hinata-kun kicking up such a fuss in his usual state."

There was a short moment of silence before Tsumiki giggled as well, clasping her hands together. "Y-you're right! H-Hinata-san is v-very different. But it's okay! We w-will get through this!"

"That's the spirit! Your hope is amazing Tsumiki-san! To still haven't given up on Hinata-kun like that… it's amazing! Truly nobody has a tolerance like that of the Ultimate Nurse!" As I took a rather sharp inhale, I couldn't help the big grin that spread on my face. "Seeing you in action like this has brought a worthless nobody like me hope and distracted me from all my worries!"

Ah.

My… worries.

My smile became a little more strained. Tsumiki was looking at me with a mix of disgust and fear, the enjoyment she had been feeling at receiving compliments far gone.

I didn't let my smile fall as I blinked slowly, realising it was probably time for me to leave her be. Lifting my hand, I waved to her as I began to head towards the door. "Well, I won't get in your way any longer. Goodbye."

As I left the scene, I glanced back one last time at the room. In the place where Hinata had collapsed, the spider lily he had been holding earlier was laid on the floor, likely having been abandoned when he came towards me. It seemed as though it had been crushed among the chaos, red petals scattered and bleeding onto the linoleum floor.

I turned away quickly.

Why do I… feel so distracted? Why am I so scared ?

He kissed me. He wants me to spread it. He told me to spread it. That should be my top priority.

So why do I so desperately want to turn back? To return and sit by Hinata's side, taking care of his every need instead of spreading hope?

As I stepped out into the hallway, I shut the door behind me with a shaking hand. That sensation in my chest only continued to grow as I made my way back towards the waiting room.

I should be putting a plan into place, something that would allow me to spread the disease faster. Something that would perhaps lure someone here, bring them in contact. Or perhaps I could bring the infected into the quarantined hotel? Or go back into Hinata's room to go check on him again? Tell the others that Hinata was dying and that we so desperately needed them to come do something before it became the fault of me and my filthy luck and the blood of an Ultimate coated my hands and I would be so deservedly executed.

Unconsciously, my fingers found their way into my hair, winding themselves around the coarse locks and pulling tightly. There was a familiar sound ringing in my ears, the loud buzzing of a swarm of insects. They filled my ears and mouth and eyes with their filthy touch, tainting everything in sight, destroying the world before me.

"It's your fault he's going to die." They whispered, barely audible beneath the white noise. "It's always your fault. You know this."

My mind was racing, my lungs were burning. It was if a black poison was seeping over my mind, dripping down over my eyes, obscuring my vision and thoughts. I couldn't think straight, everything was so overwhelming it was almost funny.

It was funny, so I laughed. It hurt my chest and wheezed like the final pitiful exhale of a corpse, but I laughed.

And I laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed.

Until something hit me hard on the back of my head, knocking me from my daze and causing me to choke on my breath.

"Oi. Stop freaking out, it's fuckin' creepy."

I blinked a few times, my vision beginning to clear as those dark shadows were chased back into the corners of my vision. The hospital's lobby slowly came into vision, along with a very angry looking Kuzuryuu. He scowled, crossing his arms over his chest tightly and forcing himself to sit up taller.

Ah, of course. How unsightly it must be to watch someone like me being so pathetic.

All my attempts to apologise were drowned out as I coughed and spluttered, attempting to regain my breath. The world was much clearer now, my eyes readjusting to the tropical sunshine streaming through the windows. It appeared as though I was now sitting down in the waiting room, yet I had no memory of moving from the wards and into the lobby.

I unballed my fists, my fingers aching from the strain as they unfolded and released my hair. The pain pulling at my scalp faded, and slowly I brought my shaking hands down to my knees. To my frustration, they instinctively gripped tightly at the fabric, clutching tightly until the denim burned into my palms.

Opening my mouth, I attempted once again to say some kind of apology for my misgivings, but all that came out was a rasped "Ah," closely followed by a shaky "Sorry."

Kuzuryuu huffed, his nose crinkling as he prepared to spit some kind of insult, but instead of ripping into me, he paused. There were a few seconds of still silence before he sighed loudly, allowing his body to relax a little and posture fall. "He's fine, don't get so fuckin' worked up about it."

"I'm… sure you're right." A breathy laugh forced itself out, as if squeezed out from the tight feeling in my chest. "After all, you are an Ultimate."

"Wha-? You think being an Ultimate makes me right about everything?" He scoffed, not in a tone as if he were looking down and mocking me, but more one of amusement. "They're wrong about you being crazy, you're just a fucking moron like me. Or maybe I'm the crazy one for even talking to you, who knows?"

It was difficult to think of what to say in response to that. I decided not to think too long on it, instead choosing to laugh along with him. "Perhaps."

The small smile that was on Kuzuryuu's face slowly dropped. The positive feeling in the air evaporated like mist and a heavy silence settled over the room. All that could be heard in the empty waiting room was the sound of Owari sobbing as though her life depended on it echoing down the corridor from her room. Eventually, Kuzuryuu broke the silence as he sighed loudly, leaning back in the stiff plastic hospital chair as best he could.

“I think I’m… starting to get your whole crazy ‘stepping stone to hope’ shit.” He paused to scoff at himself, as if he was in shock that he would say such a thing. “Ever since Peko saved me, it feels like I owe this life to her, or to everyone else. It’s like it’s not my own anymore. Just a spare.”

"If I'm not wrong, you're referring to Pekoyama-san's sacrifice? It’s no surprise you feel that way, but there was very little you could have done to prevent her execution.”

Kuzuryuu still grumbled after I asked, sounding frustrated by the question. It was no surprise, he had reacted rather poorly when I brought it up during Owari’s fight as well, but dancing around the topic seemed pointless. What Pekoyama did for the one she loved was amazing, there was no logical reason to not acknowledge that.

“It’s that stupid fucking Monokuma’s fault! But what kind of fucking person am I to let Peko take the blow for me after all that I said? It’s messed up. The only reason I didn’t die is because she shielded me, a tool ‘til the end.” As he said the last few words, Kuzuryuu slammed his fist against his leg, growing more frustrated as he continued to think about it.

I shrugged. "Pekoyama-san was an amazing person. She died for the sake of your hope, so that you could continue to be a beacon for your family and the Kuzuryuu Clan. There's no point in being angry at her for doing the right thing…"

The right thing, huh?

"What she did wasn't the right thing! The right thing would have been for her to stay with me!" Jumping out of his chair, Kuzuryuu glared down at me. "No death is a 'hopeful thing' you dumbass!"

Spreading hope is the right thing to do, so that's what I should do, right?

"Hey! Are you even listening to me? Jesus, you really are messed in the head." He scrunched up his nose in a snarl. "I'm trying to be more forgiving and a better fucking person and all that shit but you really piss me off, going on about how everything is great as long as it's for fucking hope !"

I don't need to worry about my feelings. I just need to spread hope, like Pekoyama-san did.

I looked up at him, locking eyes as I smiled widely at the Yakuza. "I think I get it now. Thank you, Kuzuryuu-kun, you are a truly wonderful person. I'm sure Pekoyama-san is proud of you."

"What?! What the hell are you talking about, you bastard? Don't go around saying things like that." In an attempt to hide his reddening face, Kuzuryuu turned his head to the side, looking away from me.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." I raised my hands in a defensive position, hoping to calm him.

"Whatever… just go take a break or something." Still refusing to look at me, Kuzuryuu grumbled. "I'll take care of things here, alright?"

I nodded. "Thank you, Kuzuryuu-kun, you really do make a brilliant leader."

"Just get out of here!"

Laughing softly, I carefully rose to my feet, still feeling a little dizzy from lack of oxygen. As Kuzuryuu began to head back towards the wards, I realised something.

"Wait! How did you know about what happened to Hinata-kun?"

"Huh?" He stopped, spinning around to face me. "Because you came in here cackling like a maniac. You wouldn't answer my questions so I checked in with Tsumiki about it. By the time I got back you were still out here having your breakdown, just now sitting down and babbling away to yourself creepily about how you were a murderer."

"Ah." Yeah, that sounded right. "Sorry about that."

Kuzuryuu shook his head, muttering something under his breath before pushing open the doors to the corridor and continuing on his way.

I figured it was probably time I did what he said too and took advantage of this opportunity to put my plan into action.

With a wide smile, I headed towards the entrance of the hospital, pushing open the doors before stepping out into the warm sunlight.

#komahina #hinakoma #Hinata Hajime #Komaeda Nagito #Kamukoma #Kamukura Izuru #Ficgiri

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farfromfickle · 4 years

Text

Far From Fickle | JJ x OC

Trigger Warning: Mentions of suicide, death, etc. Mild panic attack. Drowning.

A/N: I wanted to write a fanfiction, I’m not really sure how long it will be. It’s through the POV of an OC named Payton, and I’m thinking her love interest is going to be JJ. Constructive criticism is always, always, always welcomed but if you’re mean to me I’ll probably cry.

Payton Montgomery’s entire world is turned upside down when her twin sister is in a surfing accident and put on life support. The summer has arrived, and Payton is anxious to distract herself with anything she can: an apprenticeship at her father’s family owned funeral home, a newfound social life at the boneyard, a murder or two, and maybe even a summer fling with a certain wounded blonde surferboy.

Chapter one

Payton Montgomery stood at the edge of the surf, her gaze entranced on the waves crashing against the sand. Crashing had never been a word she would have used to describe the waves before the incident. But lately everything was crashing, or falling, or suffocating around her. Before, when she thought of the beach she thought of the silent and graceful waves, pushing and pulling. She thought of peaceful sounds and being lulled to sleep. These were not the same waves she’d watched countless times with her sister. These waves were violent. She flinched each time they fell against the shore.

The sun was just rising over the shore, and Payton felt as if she’d gotten little to no sleep. Granted, falling asleep in a hospital chair was never rest inducing.

“Standing there by the water, you look just like her,” a voice muttered behind her. “Like Carter.”

“Well, we have practically the same face,” Payton muttered. She forced her eyes from the water. “Being twins and all.”

“But I’ve always been able to tell you apart,” the small brunette was standing beside her now. Payton wondered how she hadn’t noticed her approaching before.

“Sarah Cameron,” Payton let out a small huff. “Let me guess, I’ve finally earned your pity.”

“Maybe if your sister actually dies,” Sarah replied with a nonchalant shrug. Payton could tell she was kidding, but the comment still felt like a slap in the face. She tried to stop herself from physically flinching.

“Well according to the doctors, you don’t have much longer to wait.”

“Are you okay?” Sarah asked, her hand falling lightly on Payton’s shoulder.

“What do you want, Sarah?” Payton asked. “Because the last time you gave a shit about me or my sister, it was seventh grade. I haven’t heard from you in nearly five years. You weren’t there when our mom died. I don’t understand why you’re trying to be here now.”

“I just wanted to check on you,” Sarah muttered. “I don’t expect to be friends or whatever. Just wanted to make sure you weren’t--”

“Gonna off myself or something?”

“Right,” Sarah frowned. “That.”

“Rest assured,” Payton said, “I won’t harm myself or anyone else during this trying time.”

“I know I wasn’t the best friend to you…” she began, but Payton cut her off.

“No kidding.”

“There’s a bonfire tonight,” Sarah tried again.

“At the boneyard?” Payton raised a brow. “That’s right, I heard the kook princess had a pogue boyfriend.”

“He’s a person,” Sarah interjected with a slight eye roll.

“You don’t have to lecture me on the humanity of each stereotypical clique,” Payton let out a sigh. “I’m friends with both.”

“The invitation stands,” Sarah told her. She tried out a soft smile, but ended up dropping it. “I’m really, really sorry about Carter, Payt.”

She wanted to scream at her to stop talking about her sister like she was dead. She wasn’t dead yet. She might not even die. She wanted to stamp her feet and kick the sand and throw herself into the ocean and make peace with the water that took so much from her two short weeks ago. She did none of these things, however. She simply said, “Thank you,” and turned her attention back toward the surf.

***

Payton’s eyes fell onto her sister. She was lying in the hospital bed, the machines around her beeping erratically. Her chocolate brown hair fell in messy curls around her shoulders, wild and unkept. A splash of freckles lay across her nose. Her pouty, deep red lips were chapped from dehydration. It was exactly like looking into a mirror. A mirror that Payton wanted to smash.

“I really wish you’d wake up,” Payton huffed. She took a seat next to her sister, a book in her hand. The Outsiders, a school reading project that Payton had coincidentally already read a handful of times out of boredom. After her sister's incident, she used the book as a coping mechanism. She had read and reread the book over and over again, distracting herself from the horror of her life.

Carter Montgomery was an avid surfer and risk taker. Payton wasn’t the biggest fan of the water, but she loved to sit at the beach and read while her sister caught some waves. The first day of summer the two had gone to the beach. The waves were a little rough, and Carter fell off of her board. She washed up into the break zone and knocked her head pretty badly. She fell unconscious underwater and nearly drowned. Her sister was put on life support almost immediately. No one really expected her to wake up.

“Hey Payton,” her father muttered, walking into the hospital room. “How are you this morning? I didn’t hear you come in last night.”

“I didn’t,” Payton replied, flipping the page of her book. “I crashed here.”

“That sounds healthy,” her father mused. “Listen, I hired some extra help this summer. What’s that boy’s name? Heyward? His dad runs that seafood place.”

Jason Montgomery was the proud owner of Montgomery Funeral Home, a small town family business that had been in the Montgomery family for several generations. He was a tall, built man with sandy hair peppered with streaks of gray.

“Pope,” Payton told him. “I thought he worked for his dad.”

“He wants to be a mortician,” her father explained. “Asked for some part time hours for the experience.”

“So you’ve replaced her already,” Payton mumbled, slamming her book shut.

“I didn’t replace her, Payt,” her father frowned.

“Could’ve fooled me,” she replied, standing up and turning toward the door.

“Where are you going?” her father demanded, attempting to block the door.

“I’m going to work,” Payton told him, raising a brow, “is that a problem?”

“No,” her father murmured. “No, I think that will be good for you.”

“Gee, glad I have your approval,” Payton rolled her eyes and shoved past him.

***

“So I don’t think we’ve officially met, I’m Pope,” the dark skinned boy began, a soft smile on his face. “I’m sorry, which one are you?”

“Don’t act like you’re unaware of Carter’s condition,” Payton muttered. Her eyes were glued on the elderly woman on the dressing table. She was carefully sculpting the pink foundation around a bruise.

“Right,” Pope replied. “I’m really sorry about your sister, Payton…”

“Don’t be,” Payton brought her eyes up to meet his for a brief moment before bringing them back down to the woman.

“So, what are you, um, doing exactly?”

“Pink takes out the black of the bruises,” she explained. She collected another brush, dabbing the tip in an ivory foundation. “They want an open casket.”

“What happened to her?”

“She fell,” she told him. “The majority of bodies we get around here are old people. They’re usually banged and bruised, you know, ‘cause they’re so fragile.”

“Right,” he murmured. There was a long awkward silence before he began again. “Are you going to that thing at the boneyard?”

“I don’t know,” Payton admitted, “Parties aren’t really my thing.”

“They’re not so bad,” Pope told her, a shy smile playing on his lips. “Just depends on who you hangout with while you’re there.” Payton thought about this for a moment. Who would she hangout with? She didn’t exactly have many friends. Carter was her best friend, and when she thought about going somewhere without Carter she felt numb inside.

“Maybe I’ll check it out,” she told him. “I could use a distraction.”

***

The music was a little too loud for Payton’s taste. She began the party at the keg, accepting graciously as Sarah’s latest boytoy handed her a red solo cup. She stood around awkwardly for a few moments while John B attempted small talk.

“And how about this weather?” he asked, motioning around him.

“Beautiful,” Payton nodded, a small snicker escaping her lips. “Just beautiful.”

“Are you making fun of me right now?” John B asked, cocking a brow at her.

“Oh, never,” Payton shook her head. She took another swig of her drink.

“I would hope not,” John B mused, “Since I’m the one who so graciously invited you to this shindig.”

“Shindig?” Payton nearly choked on her beer stifling a laugh. “Sarah invited me, actually.”

“Oh, he’s actually so pussy whipped they’ve morphed into one person,” a voice called from beside them. Moments later JJ Maybank settled beside John B, rustling his fingers through his hair with a sly grin. “It’s quite romantic, really.”

“Sounds romantic,” Payton agreed. She didn’t know JJ well, only that he came from the wrong side of the tracks as her father would say.

“Oh, it is. They’re planning a June wedding.”

“Guess my invite got lost in the mail,” Payton fake pouted.

“Don’t worry, you can be my plus one, dollface,” JJ gave her a wink.

“Lucky me!” she enthused. She took a final swig of her beer and gave the boys a nod.

Payton ended the party where she began her day, staring blankly at the ocean. The waves were crashing against the shore. She stuck one foot into the water and stumbled a bit. Was this what being tipsy felt like? She had never drank before.

“Payton Montgomery at a kegger?” a voice came from behind her. It was familiar. Kelce, her sister’s ex boyfriend. She let out a sigh.

“What do you want?”

“Are you afraid to get into the water, princess?” he demanded, taking a step toward her. Payton sucked in a breath, panic starting to set in. “Afraid you’ll drown like your sister?”

“Yeah she is!” Rafe let out a dry laugh. “She’s terrified. Why don’t you help her out, Kelce?”

“Please don’t…” Payton whimpered, but Kelce was already moving toward her. Topper and Rafe were on either side of him, blocking her only escape routes. Before she even had time to process what was happening Rafe grabbed her around the waist and threw her over his shoulder.

“Don’t be such a pussy,” Topper hissed. “We’re trying to help you!” Payton let out another whimper, her eyes closed tightly as the water began to envelope her. Rafe waded deeper and deeper into the water and threw her off of him. Her nails caught around his neck, scraping the surface as he threw her.

“You bitch!” he hissed, kicking his leg out at her, shoving her farther into the water.

Payton’s head was hovering above the water as she silently spoke to herself. It’s okay. You can swim. It’s okay. She was kicking and flailing her legs around trying desperately to reach the shore. Her head began to slip and she began to panic. Her vision began to tunnel. Suddenly two arms were around her, pulling her towards the shore.

Her breaths were near gasps when they finally reached the shoreline, her arms neatly wrapped around the neck of her savior: JJ Maybank.

#outer banks #jj maybank #john b routledge #kiara carrera #pope heyward #sarah cameron #fanfiction #jj x oc #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank imagine #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron #topper thorton

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marshmallow-phd · 5 years

Text

Secret in His Eyes

Spinoff of Sins of the Father

Genre: Mafia Au

Pairing: Luhan x Reader

Summary: A vacation exploring China’s famous city was supposed to be relaxing. When you witness a horrifying murder, you instead find yourself in police custody, unable to run. Trying to stay alive, you meet Luhan, and you believe you can trust him. You never imagined that he might be the one you should be running from.

Part: Prologue I 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I Final

Your hearing came back first. Dull, unintelligible shouts came from seemingly every direction. Around you, but you couldn’t find their sources. Slowly, you peeled open your eyes. You tried to move your body in order to escape the heavy object weighing you down, but even the slightest quiver of your muscles was painful, causing you to groan and hiss. That led to a chain reaction of your lungs needing air, breathing in the dust that clouded the room and sending you into a coughing fit that you couldn’t stop.

Destruction surrounded you. The once elegant office was now covered in chaos, bits of paper and fluff floating through the air, parts of the ceiling now lying on the floor and the bookshelf that once stood tall behind the desk was splintered beyond recognition. The heavy weight that stopped you from sitting up was Luhan. He was half laying on top of you, unconscious and unmoving with an arm draped protectively over your waist. His eyes were closed and no amount of jostling from you would make them open.

“Lu! Lu!”

The shouts came through clearer now, mixed up and cut off from coughs of their own.

“Help!” you croaked out, your vocal cords barely putting in enough effort to push out the single syllable.

Through the clouds of dust, you managed to see two tall figures carefully making their way around the debris. When they finally reached the two of you, one of them hissed in their mother language, but you’d been here long enough to recognize the derogatory word. As your vision cleared, you recognized your saviors as the two other bosses who’d been in on the ploy against you. But that betrayal was the last thing on your mind.

“Luhan,” you whispered, turning to him once again. While he still hadn’t regain consciousness, you could finally tell that he was breathing, the only good sign you could see. With careful fingers, you took hold of his wrist and slid out from underneath him. That’s when you saw it.

Sticking out of his side was a piece of wood about the length of your forearm, splintered and ugly around the edges. A red liquid stain growing by the second surrounded the area where the wood pierced the cloth and into Luhan’s torso. Hands shaking you reached out to him, not sure of what you could possibly do, but you needed to save him. He couldn’t die on you. Not like this.

“Don’t touch him!” the brown-haired one – Kris, you were sure – snarled at you, causing you to flinch back. Over his shoulder, he yelled, “YIXING! YIXING!”

The rustling you heard behind you gave you hope that the doctor wasn’t far, but you didn’t dare take your eyes off the man in front of you, afraid that he might fade away if you did. By the sound of it, Yixing had indeed arrived and was talking to the others quickly. It was all static in your heart, drowned out by your erratic heartbeat. A pair of hands landed on your shoulders that forced you to tear your eyes away from Luhan.

Yixing’s kind, but worried gaze stared down at you pitifully. “(y/n), I need you to move so I can see him.”

You nodded, pushing yourself up to your feet and shuffling back to give Yixing room. With an eerie calmness, he checked Luhan’s pulse, timing it against his watch. “We need to get him to the surgery room.” He kept the language to one that you could understand perhaps to keep you from going hysterical. Admittedly, you were on the precipice, just waiting for the one thing that would send you over the edge.

The two others carefully but hurriedly picked Luhan up, making sure not to cause him too much pain or add to the damage as they carried him out of the crumbling room. You were hot on their heels, refusing to be left behind. If they told you to go away, that might be the catalyst that caused you to erupt.

By a miracle, the surgery room was only a few doors down the hall. You hardly had time to take in the fact that this mansion had a fully stocked emergency room before you were pulled back into the scene at hand. As soon as Luhan was lying face down on the metal slab, Yixing cut away at the button down to expose the wound and get a better look at the fight he had ahead. A gasp escaped your lips causing everyone to look at you. Tao marched up to you and started pushing on your shoulders towards the door.

“Get out,” he ordered. “You don’t need to see this. We’ll tell you-”

“No, Tao.” Yixing turned back to Luhan after ceasing the struggle. His back blocked your view of whatever he was doing to save Luhan, but you were more than okay with the barrier. You didn’t want to see what he had to do, you just wanted him to do it. “I need an extra set of hands. I can’t do this on my own.”

Wait, what?

“She doesn’t have any medical training,” Tao argued.

Yixing didn’t take his concentration away from his patient as he said, “I still need her. I can’t do this on my own.”

You shook your head. “Yixing, I ca-”

He whirled on you. “Do you want him to die?”

“I-” No. Of course you didn’t.

Despite the betrayal and the hurt he caused. Despite the lies and games. Despite it all… you still cared. Those strange feelings that had been bubbling up inside over the past few weeks didn’t magically go away. You weren’t sure they ever would.

So, with that conclusion, you ripped out of Tao’s grasp and ran to Yixing, following his orders as he had you hook Luhan up to the machines that would monitor his vitals while the doctor worked on removing the wood safely. Somewhere behind you, Tao cursed and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

You weren’t sure how much time was going by. Beads of sweat dotted Yixing’s forehead. Whenever the droplets started sliding down his temples, you wiped them away so he didn’t have to before he ordered your hands back to their positions. Suddenly blood leaked out from between the splinter and skin. Yixing didn’t seem as worried as you felt. Luhan whimpered, tugging at your heart and making you want to comfort him in some way, but you couldn’t leave Yixing alone.

Suddenly, screams erupted in the hallway causing you to jump. The door burst open and Tao shoved a woman inside. She was dressed in standard scrubs with a white lab coat hanging over them, a badge swinging from the pocket on her left breast.

The mafia members and the doctors started a shouting match, words flying so fast that even if you knew the language you wouldn’t be able to decipher who was saying what. Finally, Yixing threw up his hands and stalked back over to the surgical table where you were still waiting. Tao planted himself against the only escape route and Kris walked over to the few chairs that were located in the room. A groan from Luhan pulled your attention back on him.

“Yixing?” you asked worriedly.

“He’ll be alright,” he reassured you. “I just wish we’d had time to give him something to ease the pain.”

A pair of foreign hands settled over yours. Confused, you looked to see the female doctor’s trained on you with a steely expression.

“Please, move,” she asked with a heavy accent. You nodded, obeying immediately. She took your spot without any additional words. Now you felt useless, but thankful that someone with actual training was there to assist Yixing. Luhan’s chances of surviving were greater with the additional help, right?

“(y/n)?”

You blinked, unbelieving at first that Luhan had just spoken your name.

“(y/n),” Yixing whispered. “Take his hand. Maybe it’ll help with the pain.”

You looked back and forth between the two before finally giving in, sliding your hand into Luhan’s. Immediately, his grip tightened around your fingers and he let out a sigh in content that relaxed the tense muscles in his brow and mouth. The sound of metal scraping against tile wreaked havoc on your ears. Something hit the back of your knees. You barely caught Kris walking back to the others chairs before he collapsed down, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. He’d brought you a chair to sit in? Why?

Deciding it was best not to voice the question out loud, you sat down and scooted closer to Luhan, still holding tight to his hand.

The surgery took hours. Your eyelids grew heavy at times, but you shook the tiredness away. As long as Yixing was working you’d stay awake. You needed to know the outcome as soon as the end was reached.

Finally, you heard the snip of scissors and a heavy sigh.

“We can move him to his bed now,” Yixing informed the room. Tao pushed off the door, grabbed the woman and started dragging her out of the room.

“Where are you taking her?” you asked frantically. He wouldn’t really harm someone who just saved his friend… would he?

“Calm down,” Tao growled. “I’m just going to put her someone secure for the time being. I’m not going to kill her.”

The woman rolled her eyes, but didn’t fight much as Tao escorted her out of the room. He came back a few minutes later and helped Kris and Yixing lift Luhan onto a gurney.

“(y/n), will you help roll the IV?” Yixing pointed to the metal pole and clear bag that you’d hooked up to Luhan at the start of all this. Nodding, you pushed the IV along, careful not to get too far behind and accidentally remove it from Luhan’s arm as they guided the gurney out of the room and down the hall. You weren’t surprised at all when they came to a stop outside the bedroom that Luhan had insisted wasn’t his. It was just another reminder that he’d lied to you about who he was. That didn’t stop you, however, from watching them with anxious eyes as they moved Luhan over to the bed.

As soon as he was settled, you turned around and left. Now that he was out of the woods and starting his journey to heal, you needed space. You needed to be able to think clearly without having pity for him. But that ache in your heart didn’t go away the more distance you put between the two of you. In fact, it became worse. That didn’t still didn’t stop you, however, and you kept going until you reached your room.

When the door clicked shut, you collapsed onto the bed, burying your face into the pillow to make the images of Luhan, hurt and unmoving, out of your head. No matter how many times you thought it over, there was one thing you couldn’t get past: if Luhan hadn’t been standing where he was, that wooden stick would have hit your stomach, making you the one on the operating table... or even killing you. Intentional or not, he saved your life.

The tears couldn’t be stopped as they flooded your eyes and spilled over onto your cheeks. So you let them come, continuing on until you fell asleep.

“(y/n)?”

You groaned, shoving your face deeper into the pillow. Whoever was disturbing the only peace you’d been able to find within the last twenty-four hours was about to regret it.

“(y/n), please wake up. I need to make sure that you’re okay.”

As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t really find it in you to hit Yixing when he was pleading with you like this.

Releasing a sigh, you pushed yourself up to your palms while looking at the good doctor. “I’m fine,” you insisted.

“You survived a bombing,” he frowned. “You’re anything but fine.”

You rolled your eyes, but sat up completely so he could see all of you. “Look all you like, but I’m okay. Maybe a few scrapes, but nothing hurts anymore.” That was partially a lie. Your muscles were sore, but what could he do about that? You just needed rest. “You should be worrying over Luhan.”

“He’s resting right now,” Yixing said. “He’ll be fine in a week or so.” Narrowing his eyes, he studied your face. “Are you sure nothing hurts or feels broken or badly bruised?”

You shook your head. “No. I promise.”

Nothing but your heart, that is.

“Okay. Then I’ll leave you to sleep. I’ll bring you something to eat in a little bit.”

“Thank you.” You watched until he was out of your room and then you turned over to drift away once again.

You didn’t leave your room for the better part of six days. The thought of checking on Luhan crossed your mind, but you couldn’t do it. You didn’t even know what to say to him if he happened to be awake when you arrived. Besides, Yixing kept you updated and he seemed to be healing on schedule.

The pleas Luhan was giving you before the bomb went off echoed in your head, hauntingly and teasingly. No matter how hard you fought to shove them away, they always made their way back.

He swore that what he told you before, when he was still Lin, was the truth, but what if that was just another ploy to get you to stay, to be on his side? How could you trust anything he had to say?

Knock, knock.

“Come in,” you called out softly. You knew it would be Yixing. He’d been kind enough to bring food to you a few times a day so you didn’t have to leave these walls. It was odd how he just seemed to know that you needed the isolation, to be away from everything, without you ever having to voice it.

Wearing that same small smile he did every time, Yixing quietly came into your room, shutting the door behind him and settling in the chair by your bed. The tray today housed a clear broth soup with scallions and mushrooms and buttered bread on the side. However, there were two bowls this time. Yixing picked one up himself, sipping from the spoon that was settled in the liquid. Apparently, he was joining you for lunch this time.

“Thank you,” you told him before picking up your own bowl. You were starving, ready to fill your stomach with the food in front of you.

“I hope you enjoy it.”

You smiled at him. “I always enjoy the food you make.”

His cheeks bloomed just the tiniest bit of blush. “That’s very kind of you, (y/n). Though, I’m sure-”

Bang!

The door slammed opened, causing you jump and spill some of the hot soup onto your lap. Tao stood in the doorway, face twisted into a look of annoyance.

Lowering your spoon and rolling your eyes, you groaned, “What do you want?”

“Luhan wants to see you.”

You scoffed. “Well, too bad. I’m eating.”

“I don’t recall asking,” Tao threatened. You kept your mouth shut, pretending that he hadn’t said anything.

“(y/n), you should see him,” Yixing urged.

The spoon fell from your hand just as you were lifting it back up to your lips. You stared at the doctor. How could he insist on something like this? You thought he was on your side. But apparently the pain you were going through wasn’t enough to dislodge years of loyalty. Now you felt cornered with no way out.

As you were obviously outnumbered, you set the food to the side and slid off the bed. Tao turned on his heels and left the bedroom, not bothering to look back to see if you were following him. He knew you were there.

The door to Luhan’s bedroom was opened when you arrived. After stepping inside, Tao shut the door behind you, effectively keeping you from running back to the safety of your room.

“(y/n).”

You didn’t want to lift your eyes to the bed, but you knew that you had to at least acknowledge him or else you’d never be let out of here. “Luhan.”

He flinched when you spoke, whether it was the sound of his real name leaving your lips or the still healing wound on his side, you didn’t know. He lifted his hand, beckoning you over. “Come here.”

“I’m fine here, thank you.”

“Okay, then.” Grunting, Luhan flicked the covers off himself and started to get out of bed.

“Don’t do that!” you protested. But it was too late. The idiot was already up on his feet and walking towards you. He was no longer plugged into an IV, free to move about no matter how painful it was for him.

Luhan stared at you with eyes that were pleading for you to not run away. He kept his distance for now, but you had a feeling it wouldn’t stay like that for long. “(y/n), I need you to listen to me. I know I lied about my name, who I am, everything in that regard, but I’m not the bad guy they’ve painted me to be.”

“Not the bad guy?” you scoffed, a sad attempt to fight back the tears that were swelling in your eyes. “So you’re telling me that you’ve never killed anyone or threatened them or broken the law? Because what that’s a bad guy is, Luhan. Can you look me in the eye and tell me you haven’t done any of those things?”

“You didn’t care that Lin had,” he fought back.

You looked off to the side, arms crossed tightly over your chest in an effort to keep yourself together. “I hate you,” you growled through gritted teeth.

“Do you? Do you really?”

Yes.

No.

You wanted to. You wanted to throw everything you could get your hands on at him and scream and tell him to get out of your life for good. But you couldn’t. Because it would hurt you more than it would ever hurt him. What a selfish thing to think, even though it was true. You looked at him and you saw the man who took you outside of these walls and shared a simple warm meal with you in that little restaurant, showing the side of him that others didn’t get to see. You saw the one who’d helped you feel calm in this chaotic environment. You saw the person who’d kept you safe from the ones who tried to hurt you, even though they wanted him in the first place. He was the one who smiled at you, who told you – even if it was a fleeting promise – that he wanted to take you away from all of this. He was the one who had taken your heart piece by tiny piece until you realized that half of it was gone already.

But was he that same person? Was the name really the only thing that had changed? You didn’t know. And perhaps that was what really scared you. Lin was gone now, out of existence. Did that mean the person behind the name was gone as well?

“How can I trust you?” you whispered as you shifted your gaze down to the floor in front of you.

“I’ll prove it to you.”

You snapped your head up. “What’s the point?”

Luhan frowned. “The point? What do you mean what’s the point? I want you trust me, that’s what. I want you to know that I’m still the same person.”

“But what’s the point of wanting me to trust you?” you said. “You’re the one in charge. You can keep me here as long as you want. How I feel shouldn’t really matter.”

He shook his head, his eyes glistening. “I won’t.”

You blinked. He couldn’t mean…. “Won’t what?”

“I won’t keep you here.” Risking it all, Luhan strode up to you until the two of you were nearly nose to nose. “I’ll let you go. Once I find out who murdered my man in that alley, I’ll put you on a first class seat back home myself. That bomb that got past my security shows that not even here is safe for you. And that’s all I want: for you to be safe. So, I’ll do it. I’ll make you safe and get you home. Just give me time.” Taking another risk, he reached out with his right hand and cupped your cheek, making you look at him. “All I ask is one favor in return.”

Of course. Nothing ever comes free with a mafia man. “What do you want?”

“Let me kiss you. Just once.”

#exo #exo mafia au #exo mafia!au #luhan x reader #luhan #lu han #exo gang au #exo gang!au #exo series #kris wu #wu yifan #zhang yixing #lay #huang zitao #z.tao #tao #Secret in His Eyes

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geniuslab · 5 years

Text

Dirty Laundry (M)

→ Pairing: Jimin x reader

→ Genre: Smut with a lil fluff

→ Word Count: 5k

→ Summary: Doing your laundry isn’t exactly fun, but when you run into a hot stranger at your local laundromat, you decide it isn’t half bad.

→ What to Expect: oral sex (receiving), fingering, a little bit of public indecency, questionable laundromat conduct, a plot if you squint a little and turn your head

You learned your lesson on the very first day at the laundromat. You’d put your clothing in the washer, and not wanting to sit there and wait, you’d left to run a couple quick errands before returning to put your clothes in the dryer. But when you got back inside, bags slung over your arms, you saw a pile of clothing crumpled on top of the counter. Your familiar soft pink cardigan poking out on top let you know the hideous wadded up pile belonged to you.

“Oh come on,” you huffed under your breath and set your bags down next to your clothes on the counter. You inspected your clothing, including your pillow cases which were now resting on the dirty counter. You weren’t the biggest germaphobe in the world, but the multiple stains on the counter were enough to make you want to rewash. You let out a massive sigh as you plucked up your laundry and looked for an open washer, eyes scanning the laundromat.

“You’re not gonna find an open one at this hour,” a voice said from beside you, and you jumped a little and looked to your left.

A man around your age was sitting up on the counter as if he’d been there the entire time, but he definitely had not been there before. Among the stainless steel of the laundromat, his pink hair was a surprising splash of color that pulled you forward unconsciously. It was as if he was the only alive thing in the laundromat, despite it being packed.

“You must be new to this,” he said.

You thought about lying, not wanting to admit that you were a complete amateur, but your crumpled up clothing betrayed any lie you could’ve told.

A smile crept onto his face, and if he didn’t look soft before with his pink hair, the fact that his eyes crinkled shut with his smile made him positively adorable.

“First rule is to never leave your laundry unattended.”

You tried not to roll your eyes and turned away from him. “Thanks, I think I learned that one already.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him throw his hands up in defense. “I’m just trying to help.”

You groaned and leaned against the counter. It was dinnertime, and the last thing you wanted to do was spend the next hour at the laundromat. Especially considering the traitor who’d thrown your clothing out of the washer was only a few feet away and kept throwing glances at you as if you were the stupidest person on earth.

“My clothing’s almost done, you can use the washer after me,” the pink haired guy said rather gently, and you peeked at him and let out the tension in your muscles that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding onto.

“Thanks,” you replied sheepishly, and you saw him throw you a smile before he leapt down from the counter and opened the washer.

You followed him with your laundry so you could load it in before someone else grabbed it. It was as if everyone came in from work to do their laundry, which you supposed was exactly what you’d done.

Once you poured in the detergent and started the machine, you turned around and saw the man sitting back up on the counter facing the driers. Since you knew you couldn’t leave without risking your clothes being taken out for a second time, you jumped up on the counter next to the man but faced the other direction.

“Are you new here?” the man asked you, and you turned a little so you could look at him. The counter wasn’t very large, so the two of you were practically sitting right next to each other even though you weren’t facing the same way. He was fussing with a bag of chips, his hands seemed to be too damp from moving his clothes that he couldn’t get a good enough grip to open them.

“Yeah, I just moved here,” you replied and reached for the bag of chips. He let go of them without resisting, and watched you open them and hand them back to him.

The man nodded, although you weren’t sure if it was in response to what you’d said or because you’d opened the chips for him. He popped one into his mouth and turned the bag to you, offering you some.

Your stomach growled, having still not eaten dinner. You pulled one out and nearly moaned when the salt hit your tongue.

“My best advice is never come after work unless you have to,” he said, his eyes twinkling in amusement at your reaction to the chips.

“Then why are you here?” you asked and grabbed another chip since he hadn’t moved the bag.

“I had to.”

“What, gotta wash the blood out of your clothing from your last murder or something?” you asked, and when you didn’t get a response you looked up from the bag of chips. He was looking at you seriously, and you gulped.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend—”

He broke out into laughter, his eyes crinkling closed and his whole body shaking.

“I like you,” he said between his laughter.

“I like you too, as long as you’re not a murderer,” you said with a small chuckle. “You’re the most interesting person I’ve met here so far.”

“I’m not a murderer, I was traveling for work before this and I couldn’t go another day with dirty laundry.” You watched as he popped another chip into his mouth before his brows furrowed. “Hey wait, I’m the only person you’ve met here so far.”

“Exactly.” You smiled at his offended expression, his mouth hanging open. You hated the fact that you paid more attention to his plump lips than you should’ve. You cleared your throat and looked away. “Well, you and the person who took my washer. But it’s hard not to beat that.”

“I’m Jimin, the most interesting person you will ever meet here.” He locked eyes with you as he emphasized his words and you bit your lip.

“I’m Y/N, and you’ll have to prove that to me, I guess,” you replied, the words slipping out almost seductively before you even realized it. The laundromat wasn’t the quietest place in the world, what with all the machines running, but those words practically dripped from your mouth and you blushed at the implication. You grabbed another chip to busy yourself with something so that he wouldn’t notice your blush and the fact that, despite only knowing him for several minutes, you were incredibly attracted to him.

“I guess I will,” he replied, and you nearly choked at the matched seduction in his voice. While his voice had been soft before, his most recent words were rough, brushing over your skin and leaving goosebumps.

Just when you thought your entire face must be red, you looked down at your ringing phone appreciatively.

“I can watch your clothes,” Jimin said. You nodded thanks and picked up the phone, stepping outside into the cool air to help stop your blush. If every visit to the laundromat was going to be like this, you were going to have to start bringing a fan.

“Come during the day or the middle of the night, although I wouldn’t really recommend a pretty girl like you coming here at night alone,” Jimin had told you later that day.

“When do you come?” you asked, praying your blush wouldn’t come back, especially at his words.

“I’m usually here on Thursday afternoons and random nights when I can be bothered.” You nodded your head at this information, but stored it away. And so, you found yourself conveniently needing to do laundry the following Thursday. Your work was flexible, and you left midday to grab lunch and swing by the laundromat to wash some items of clothing that you’d practically dug for in the morning so you’d have something to bring even though you’d just washed all of your stuff a few days before.

You weren’t sure if he’d be there considering it hadn’t been that long, but a smile came onto your face as you opened the door and saw pink hair across the room.

“Back already?” he asked across the laundromat. It wasn’t a very big business, so it only took you a few seconds to let the door swing shut behind you and walk up to him.

“I’ve got a lot to wash,” you replied with a shrug and put your bag down. He looked you up and down with a smirk and you busied yourself with taking your clothing out.

You were not at the laundromat washing your clothes again just so you could see a guy. But the way his eyes scanned you made your skin tingle just like his words the other day had, and you bit your lip again and sorted your laundry. Okay, so maybe you were here to see him again. But it didn’t mean anything, and you might as well make sure your clothes are clean, right? Besides, you were going to have to wash your clothes weekly, so why not wash them on a day you knew someone cute would be there?

This is how you justified making Thursdays your laundry day, and it became routine to go at the same time so you could see Jimin. Every week, you would hop up onto the counter next to him and talk. He almost always had a snack, but you’d started bringing some as well, and the two of you would sit cross legged on the counter and share snacks and stories.

“What do you mean you went on tour with one of the country’s most popular artists?” you asked one day, nearly choking on your food just like the first time you’d met him.

He shrugged and smirked. “I’m a dancer, I got hired to backup for their world tour.”

Your jaw dropped and then you snapped it shut. “Wow, you’re trying really hard to prove me wrong about that whole interesting thing, aren’t you?”

“This isn’t even the beginning,” he said and winked at you.

You hid your blush by tipping your head down so your hair would cover your face.

“What do you do?” he asked you, and you were grateful for the change in topic.

“I’m a video game developer,” you replied, and his eyes got wide.

“No shit, working on anything I’d know of?”

“Probably not,” you laughed. “I work at a small indie company at the moment, but I’m hoping to work my way up in the industry.”

“Don’t forget me when you’re famous,” he said and grabbed your chips out of your lap.

“That’s funny coming from the guy who went on a world tour.”

“What can I say, I’m pretty amazing.”

You rolled your eyes and stole the chips back from him, pouring the remnants into your mouth. He watched as you did this, and you saw his tongue slip out and lick his bottom lip. You lowered the bag and looked at him silently, certain you were blushing outright.

You’d hoped that the way his gaze made your heart skip a beat was just fleeting, something that happened just because he was cute and new and exciting. But as the weeks went by, and you two became genuine friends, the sexual tension between you two only increased. It was always small moments, like him brushing up against you when he’d reach for his laundry, or the way his eyes would travel up and down your body when he thought you weren’t looking, or his finger brushing crumbs away from the corner of your lip as the two of you snacked. It felt as if something were going to happen, but the time was never right. Too many people were there, the buzzer would go off signaling that your laundry was done, your roommate called saying that she’d set the fire alarm off and the whole building was evacuated and she was in a lot of trouble and can you please come home now and talk to the landlord before he kicked both of you out?

It was for this very reason that you hadn’t asked him to hang out outside of the laundromat, not because you didn’t want to see him, but because you knew the second you were alone with him that something would happen. And you wanted it to, almost desperately so, which was exactly why you didn’t see him alone. The way you wanted him was so primal and deliciously tempting that it almost scared you. You liked control, but somehow you knew you’d lose all of that once he had his hands on you.

Not to mention, a man distracting you was the last thing you needed while you worked on your new work project. Things were increasingly coming together on the game you’d been working on, and you didn’t need anything pulling you away from that. Unfortunately, your mind tended to wander despite your wishes against it. Even small things reminded you of him, and before you knew it your legs would be crossed and you’d be biting your lip. Thoughts of Jimin, and what he could do to you and what you could do to him, entered your mind far more than you cared to admit.

“You okay?” your coworker asked one day, and you blinked up from your computer screen and looked at him. You’d been working on more sketches of the main character, but you’d gotten lost in his lips, realizing that they were almost exactly like Jimin’s. The pen in your hand hadn’t moved for the past several minutes as you pondered this.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you replied. The deadline for your proposal was fast approaching, and getting lost in a replica of the hot laundromat guys’ lips wasn’t on the agenda. You cleared your throat and got back to work, but throughout the rest of the day it kept nagging you that maybe resisting Jimin wasn’t the best idea. Perhaps giving in was exactly what you needed.

“So ummm, please don’t get mad at me,” your roommate, Yerim, said.

“What happened?” you asked. You were curled up on the couch with a glass of wine watching a movie to de-stress, but the second you saw Yerim standing in front of you with your dress, your eyes went wide and you set down your glass.

“I wore this out a few nights ago, and I kinda got a drink spilled on me,” she said sheepishly.

“Yerim, that’s the dress I’m wearing to my presentation at work tomorrow!” you practically screeched and jumped up. You grabbed the dress from her hands and looked at the damage. All down the front of the gray dress was a red stain.

“Why wouldn’t you have told me sooner?” you asked. “Actually, why did you wear this out in the first place?”

“You said I could always borrow your clothes! And I didn’t have any clean dresses, and I was going on a nice date with this new guy and I thought I’d look put together in something of yours. I didn’t know how to tell you after it happened.”

She was pouting, which softened your anger a little bit, but you stood there speechless holding onto the only dress you owned that was professional enough for a formal presentation. You weren’t just hanging around at work sketching tomorrow, you were presenting your new game to a massive company.

“I have to wear this tomorrow,” you groaned.

“You could wear one of my dresses instead?”

You knew your roommate’s wardrobe, and her short party dresses weren’t going to cut it.

“I’ve gotta go see if I can wash this out,” you said and fumbled for your phone. It was already past midnight, and you’d always followed Jimin’s advice to not go to the laundromat alone at night. You shot him a quick text and he replied in a matter of moments.

Yeah, I’ve got some laundry I can do. See you there.

“I’m really sorry!” Yerim yelled as you shut the door behind you and practically ran down the block. You were only in your t-shirt and shorts, having barely had enough time to throw on some sneakers before you’d flown out of your apartment. But thankfully it wasn’t very far, and no one was out to witness the girl wildly running down the sidewalk in pajamas with a dress in her hands.

Jimin was already at the laundromat when you arrived, and you breathed a sigh of relief when you realized he was the only one there.

“Clothing emergency?” he asked, and you held up the dress in front of you so he could see it. “Is that what you said you’re wearing to your presentation tomorrow?”

You just nodded.

“Yikes, okay let’s see what we can do about this.”

He had all the laundry essentials, and he went to work on spraying it and scrubbing as you watched, horrified, at the red stain that surely would not come out.

“Thankfully, I have some experience getting red out of clothing,” he said, and then looked up at you with a smile. “You’re not laughing, that was supposed to be a joke.”

“I’m just really stressed out right now,” you blurted out.

“It’s gonna be okay, Y/N. I’ll get the stain out, we’ll wash your dress, and you’ll be able to give your presentation.”

You nodded your head silently and watched him scrub, and miraculously the stain got lighter and lighter. By the time he was done scrubbing, there was only a faint stain on the dress. You could feel a little bit of your anxiety slip away and let out a sigh of relief.

“Time to wash it now, and if it’s still not out then I’ll give it another scrub.” He put your dress in the washer and then tugged on your hand so you’d jump up onto the counter with him. You hopped up and went to pull your hand away, but he didn’t let go. You watched as he traced patterns into your skin, the familiar tingling sensation you often got when you were around him returning.

“You’re gonna have to wait a while for that to finish, so just try to relax.”

“You realizing telling someone who’s stressed out to relax is the opposite of helpful, right?” you said. Your heart rate was picking up, although you weren’t sure if it was from worrying over your dress and the presentation tomorrow, or the fact that he was pulling your hand, and effectively you, closer to him on the counter.

“What if I can distract you and help relieve some of your stress?” he asked, and when he looked up at you between his lashes you felt a bolt of fire shoot straight through you down to your core.

“What kind of distraction?” you asked, but you knew exactly what he meant. He pulled you closer, his hand now inching up your arm slowly. You swallowed hard but didn’t pull away. You’d been fighting thoughts of Jimin for weeks now, and you didn’t want to any longer.

“You seem to be really stressed whenever you see me,” he said. “Like a tightly wound coil about to spring free.”

“It’s just work,” you said, but both of you knew it wasn’t true. His fingers danced along the sensitive skin on your arm and made you shiver.

“I’m not the only one who feels this, am I?” he asked, and when he looked up at you from beneath his eyelashes, you lost your breath. “Is it just me who wants this so badly?”

You couldn’t find the words to respond right away, but when you did they fell out of your mouth. “I want you so fucking much.”

“Good.” His hand moved up from your arm and wound around your neck to gently pull you closer. “I told you I would be the most interesting person you ever met here, didn’t I?” he asked, and you nodded and let your eyes flutter shut as he leaned in.

You felt his breath on your lips, and you leaned forward until you could feel his against yours. But he didn’t lean in closer, just stayed there, his lips just a faint impression against yours.

“What are you waiting for?” you asked, and you could feel him chuckle against your lips.

“I’m waiting for you to answer.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned forward, but he pulled back and looked you in the eyes, waiting.

“Fine, you did and you were right,” you huffed and leaned forward even more. “Now give me what I’ve been waiting for.” Finally, he leaned into you and pressed his lips against yours. Resisting him in the past had been so, so wrong. You tried to stifle the moan that crept its way up, but his lips were so soft and his hand on your waist was much too delightfully sinful for you to keep quiet.

Your kissing grew feverish, no amount satisfying you enough. He felt you pushing up against him harder, heard your ragged breaths in between kisses and noticed your desperate hands gripping his shirt harder and harder. While his tongue pressed against yours, he gently pushed you backwards until you were lying down on the counter.

You may have imagined lying underneath Jimin before, but you’d never imagined doing it in the laundromat. This didn’t stop you, however, from lifting your knees and trapping Jimin against you, or your hips from slowly rocking against his.

He moaned into your mouth at the sensation. “Fuck, I’ve been wanting this from the moment I saw you.”

“Me too,” you confessed, your voice breathless. The friction was nothing short of bliss, and you picked up your pace against him and his growing erection to help satiate the throbbing between your legs. When you pulled apart for air, you realized something.

“What if someone sees?” you asked, your worry cutting through the cloud of your arousal.

“All the windows are covered,” he said and kissed your neck, causing your hips to jerk up into him.

“But what if someone walks in?”

He chuckled, his laugh reverberating against the soft spot between your neck and your collarbone. “That’s part of the fun, isn’t it?”

Jimin ground harder into you, and your fingers tangled in his hair as both of you devoured each other, no amount of kisses or friction enough. You wrapped a leg around his waist and sighed into his mouth at the closer contact.

“Looks like your dress isn’t the only dirty thing here,” Jimin said, and you gently bit his bottom lip in response.

“You don’t like my jokes?” he asked and pulled backwards, the devilish glint in his eyes suggesting that he knew no matter what joke he made, you were putty beneath him.

“Please just don’t stop,” you whimpered and grabbed at his shirt to pull him back down towards you.

“I won’t, princess,” he promised, and the combination of the pet name paired with him playing with the waistband of your shorts ripped a moan out of you. He toyed with your shorts for a few moments, savoring each time your eyes squeezed shut when you felt his skin brush against yours. Then he slowly pulled your shorts down your legs, inching down with them. Once they were off, he planted kisses up your legs, and you used everything in your power to keep your legs from shaking when he got to your thighs. Your fingers were knotted in his hair as he sucked on your skin, leaving a hickey that you were both infuriated and aroused by.

“Did I say you could mark me?” you asked. You’d hoped to sound stern, but the sight of such a gorgeous man between your legs, and the feeling of his hands on your thighs, made your voice come out in a squeak.

“As if you weren’t going to beg for it anyway,” he replied and sucked on the sensitive skin of your thigh again. You wanted to object, but you could only moan and grip his hair harder.

He began roaming up higher, his breath fanning over your underwear and what lay beneath. Just the heat of him had you squirming, and before you could stop yourself a series of requests spilled from your mouth. You wanted him all over you, on you, inside of you.

“I knew you’d be a beggar,” he said teasingly, but you didn’t even care that he was right, you just needed him.

When you felt his hot breath between your legs you whimpered but kept yourself still, every atom in you buzzing at how close he was to what you needed, what you craved so badly.

“You’re so pretty,” he murmured and then finally gave you what you so desperately wanted. Nothing could have prepared you for the flood of pleasure that rushed through your body when he pushed your underwear to the side and let his tongue finally touch your throbbing center. Your legs were shaking now as he wrapped his tongue around your clit, pushing against it and licking it.

“Please don’t stop,” you begged again, even though you knew he had no intentions of stopping.

He moaned against you and you felt his hand on your thigh inch higher, and then his fingers were inside of you, pumping in and out slowly.

“Oh my god,” you cried. Your thoughts were all muddled, his name spilling out of your lips in broken whimpers. It felt like your entire body was about to crumble every time he thrust his fingers up into you. Your orgasm was building, stealing your breath away as you got closer to tipping over the edge. You were torn between wanting to thrust up into him and pull away, the sensation of him in and on you too much and yet not enough.

He could sense you were close, and you could feel him smile against you, no doubt smirking at how weak you were under his touch.

“Can you cum for me, princess?” he asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. His pace became relentless, and you soon fell apart against his fingers. No sound came from your mouth, you were absolutely breathless for the several seconds of pure bliss that rocked through your body.

Jimin didn’t pull away until you were gasping for air again, and when he did he planted a kiss on your inner thigh and then let your underwear fall back into place before he hopped off of the table. Neither of you had to share a single word to express how good that was, it was clear in his cocky expression and your flushed cheeks.

You’d barely sat upright on the table when you heard the bell for the door ring, and a cranky looking man walked in, looked both of you up and down, and grumbled under his breath before he started loading his laundry. Your heart was going a mile a minute, but you were wearing an oversized t-shirt, and Jimin had quickly pulled apart from you and kicked your shorts under the table before the man had walked in. All it would look like was two people hanging out while waiting for their laundry to be done. At least that’s what you hoped the man thought, because you sure as hell didn’t want him knowing you’d just gotten eaten out on the very table he’d just placed his basket down on the end of.

Jimin cleared his throat and pointed at the machine. “The cycle should be done soon.” His cheeks were a bit pink now too, and you covered your mouth with your hand to stop a giggle from slipping out.

The old man grumbled something again about “youth these days” and left, apparently unconcerned about his laundry being taken in the middle of the night. As soon as the door swung shut you broke out into laughter and Jimin did too. He came up close to you and pulled you to the edge of the table, and you wrapped your legs around him. Your stomach flipped when you realized how natural it felt having him there in front of you, between your legs with his arms around you.

“When can I return the favor?” you asked. You didn’t know how he’d concealed his boner from the stranger, because the bulge in his pants was incredibly obvious. His lips were swollen and even more pink and plump than normal, and you smoothed his hair down that you’d previously been clutching.

“Unfortunately not anytime soon, considering that man already thinks we’re up to something,” he sighed.

“How about you come back to my place after my dress is done?” you asked before you even thought it through. You rarely brought men home, mostly because your roommate would badger you about it for weeks afterward. But you didn’t want things to end here, tonight, in this dingy laundromat. What you’d had wasn’t enough, not by a long shot. Maybe you were selfish, but you wanted so much more of him. Not just physically, either.

“Don’t you have a presentation to give tomorrow?” he asked, but the glint in his eyes and the smile creeping at the edge of his lips betrayed his concern.

“I’m starting to think you were right, you’re a very good stress reliever,” you replied.

“Well then it would almost be criminal for me to not help you out,” he said. “You know, since you’re so stressed about the presentation.”

“Exactly.” You smiled and pulled him even closer to you.

“Although I’m not gonna lie, I wonder what it would feel like to have you pressed up against the dryer when it’s on,” he said, and you swatted your hand against his chest.

“I’ll have to get my own washer and dryer for you to experience that.” You looked pointedly at the washing machine that was cleaning the stranger’s clothes. It had already been a close call, and you weren’t trying that one again.

“I’d be more than happy to help you install them,” Jimin said. “In fact, maybe then I can start doing my laundry at yours.”

“That’s not part of the deal. My washer, my laundry.”

“Then we’ll start with your sheets,” he quipped. “You’ll probably want to wash those after we’re done.”

You groaned at his comment and buried your face in his chest, but you couldn’t stop your mind from thinking about all the things you’d be doing on those very sheets with the handsome man in front of you. Who knew doing laundry could be so fun?

[masterlist link will be added later! search ‘my fic’ or ‘masterlist’]

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naturalnein · 5 years

Text

Fire Under Water

Jester’s voice ricochets through his head, careening straight through the lingering traces of the charm spell’s haze. It’s an octave higher than normal, he notes absentmindedly. She’s scared; she’s angry.

Why shouldn’t she be? He’d almost killed her. He’d almost killed them all.

---

or: Caleb in the aftermath of the succubus's charm, and a confession he makes to Jester.

alternatively, read on ao3 and leave a comment

“What the fuck, Caleb?!”

Why shouldn’t she be? He’d almost killed her. He’d almost killed them all.

Time may have passed, their mission may have been honorable, but some facts did not change. Caleb was a murderer at heart, calculating and cruel. He had flung a fireball at his friends and felt nothing but satisfaction at his own accuracy. Watched as they charred, one after the other, remorselessly throwing up a wall of flame, flinging firebolts, holding steadfast against the crushing waves Fjord conjured. This was his element, and he held the power. It had been so long, and the sultry voice in his ear had not hesitated to pry at this pleasure.

Think of what you could do, it whispers, if only you let go of that weak mask you wear. These people aren’t your friends. Look, they fight you now, do they not? You are their strongest and they have betrayed you.

You can take the man from the training, but you cannot take the training from the man.

It had been easy, really. Paltry. What would have been mere practice from Master Ikithon. When his friends cry out, he hears his old name over the roars of the fire. Foreign, now, but not lost. Bren, they yell, but their accents are Zemnian. Six voices intertwine, overlap, separate, until there are only two, thick with the intonation of Empire birth.

Beau grasps at him, a sharp stroke of blue against the dull cavern walls, and asks him is this is the day she must kill him. He doesn’t have his tongue or wits about him, but if he did, he would have called her Eodwulf, and teased that he never needed saving.

It had all happened again. The charm, the fire, the charred bodies of people he cared about lying at his feet. The astounding simplicity of such a trick brings hot shame to his cheeks. Had he not been able to break through the spell--

“He- she- they got in my head,” he stutters, though no one listens. His voice quiets further, still. “I am sorry.”

He didn’t get the luxury of saying such kind things to his parents before collapsing his childhood home down on top of them, so he will say them now. He is half broken man, half murderous machine, and does not expect anyone to forgive him.

Yet something about Jester’s tone makes him want to repent like this. Openly, honestly, on his knees if that’s what’s required. Of all people, she was the last one he ever wanted to see him as a monster. This wish is selfish, but if she loses her faith in him, if a woman as kind and compassionate as she cannot find heart to disregard his transgressions, then all of his nightmares are true. He is just as bad as he believes. Caleb Widogast is the same man as Bren Aldric Ermendrud, after all.

But there is not time to dwell. A fiend is clawing through the walls, and ethereal creatures lurk in the shadows. He will fight this moment, as he was trained to do. Later, he will grieve for the man he used to be.

…

The creatures do not go gently.

Caleb falls unconscious no less than four times; he is beaten and beaten, by fiends, by friends. Caduceus dies, a miracle brings him back.

Or, no, not a miracle. It’s Jester, in an explosion of diamond shards, a single prayer tumbling from her lips. Had the scene not been so slicked with demon blood, so achingly similar to that fateful mid afternoon on the outskirts of Shady Creek Run, he would have been awed by the beauty of it. The shards reflect precise squares of light back onto her blue skin, and he takes to studying them until he hears a laborious intake of breath from their fallen friend.

Caduceus Clay lives another day. They all do. It is the first time Caleb believes the fates may have greater plans for them.

Perhaps it is this emboldening thought that keeps him awake well after everyone drifts off into a deep sleep within the confines of his hut. Everyone, that is, except for Jester.

But he knew this. She rarely sleeps so easily after harrowing battles. Close calls do not fit her jovial narrative, sharp and jarring to the story she has playing out in her head; one she began concocting when she was painstakingly safe within the walls of The Lavish Chateau.

Caleb sits against the dome of the hut, listening to Jester’s stuttered breathing for a long time. He counts the minutes until they clock into hours, as though the numbers will supply him what he lacks in courage. Her head rests barely a breath from his hip bone, her body sprawled out to his right. He owes her so much. An explanation, first of all.

“Jester,” he whispers. It’s so quiet in the hut, he expects the stillness to split open at his exhale of her name, but no one stirs, not even she.

“Oh,” she breathes. “You’re awake, too?”

“Uh, yes. I am… sorry. For today. Well, yesterday, really, but all the same. I would never wish to hurt you, any of you. I do… well, I am... fond of this group we’ve formed, you could say.”

Jester giggles lightly and turns to lay on her stomach. Her chin now rests on his thigh, looking up at him with wide blue eyes. As if it were nothing, and they’d done this a thousand times before. Caleb cannot decide if this is a greater comfort or a source of more anxiety.

“Caleb, you do like us!” She grins, her forked tongue sliding between her teeth playfully. When he smiles back sadly, her tone shifts and she pulls herself closer to him. “It is really not your fault. Those things got Yasha, too. And don’t get me wrong, you guys were totally badass, but you weren’t you, you know? That’s not you and I know it.”

The silence returns for a moment. She makes it sound so simple, Caleb almost just lets himself be convinced. He can feel the steady beat of her pulse, the soft skin where her chin meets her neck, dutifully thumping against his leg. He wants it to be that easy. For her, if nothing else. But it is not.

“I should not have been so easily persuaded.”

“Well,” she drawls. “It’s not every day you’re seduced by a crazy succubus. And that was pretty crazy, right? You do not have to worry, Caleb. It won’t happen again. We’ll be ready, and I’ll protect you!”

“It’s happened before.” It tumbles out of him, more clipped than he means for it to be.

That stops her in her tracks. Her mouth puckers and her brows furrow. “What?”

“I’ve been… seduced. Charmed. Into hurting people I love. Cruelly.” He looks her directly in the eye, challenging her to hate him, to move from this intimate position she’s made her space in. He wants to see the moment she realizes he is not what he says he is. That he’s a monster, instead. “My family. Mutter und Vater.”

Some horrible realization dawns in her eyes, her lips part, but she doesn’t move. “That’s why- fire… it causes you to shut down sometimes. That’s why. Why you use it even when you hate it.”

He nods. She doesn’t move.

He is deserving of her apall, her disgust. She cherishes her mother as the woman deserves. All his mother had ever done was love, and his repayment had been to see her turned to ash.

“Well, tell me,” she says, instead of the horrible things he’d wished for. “Tell me about them. Their story, your story.”

“I’m so sorry.”

He watches her swallow her own tears as she dutifully takes his hand in her own. “I know. You don’t have to lie anymore, I swear it. The person you are now, he’s different. You’re Caleb, that’s not going to change. I like it more than Bren anyway, it sounds heroic, wouldn’t you agree?”

The corners of his mouth pull upward, the slightest bit, in astonishment. He cocks his head at her, brows pulled together. She doesn’t even know the extent of his crimes, and she forgives him. Why, he breathes, afraid that if he raises his voice this moment will shatter like the diamond over Caduceus’s body.

She smiles. “You’re Caleb,” she repeats, as though it is obvious. “There’s just a few blanks to fill in, you see?”

Something unspools in Caleb’s chest. Something tight, loosening its vicious hold on his heavy heart. There is still grief there, the knowledge of what he could have done today is not a light burden, but Jester is here, holding his hand, ready to listen. The days ahead are unclear, and they are both very far from home, but they find a certain security in each other, in this little infinite moment.

The fates know they won’t get many.

Caleb breathes, and starts from the beginning.

#cr: fanfiction #cr fanfiction #critical role #critfic #critical role episode 55 #ship: widojest #widojest #caleb & jester #caleb widogast #jester lavorre #caduceus clay #campaign 2 #cr spoilers #I wrote this for my sanity please be kind

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lizord-lord · 5 years

Text

The Sides as Quotes From the Powerless Discord

How many of these even are there now

Teacher: it's been almost a year, but Patton still smells like cookies, flowers, and blood.

Virgil: I live on the edge. No seriously I made myself into a blanket burrito and now I’m stuck on the edge of my bed

Patton: So... If these characters are mutant turtles... WHY ARE THEY EATING MEAT? Logan: Patton, most of the turtle races eat plants AND meat Patton: THEN WHAT ABOUT [Virgil's character] Logan, an actual intellectual: They eat both too. Some frogs eat other frogs. Patton:.....Virgil EATS FROGS?! Virgil: *comes back* what. Oh no. My secret. Its out

Roman: I always slept curled up in the fetal position, because I had this fear of putting my feet at the door of the bed, because I thought that this..evil person..who lived at the foot of the bed for some reason.. *pause for embarrassed laughter* Virgil: here it comes Roman: ..would feed poison toadstools to my feet Virgil, cracking up: your feet could eat?? Deceit, cracking up: what

Teacher: You're always so serious and quiet I wish you would share your thoughts Patton, thinking: Theoretically, out of all my friends, how many could I spin-hug

Virgil: Alright, you calcium bowl jiggly muscle holding FUCK, I drank the earth water, I did the lying unconscious for a while, I did the making of my room into a dark cave, WHY THE FUCK DO YOU STILL HURT

Logan: why are you freaking out about your date? Roman: [Men] are so pretty and I’m such a dork

Remy: you heard it here kiddos. You wear sunglasses, you die Patton: but Remy….your pfp.. Virgil: YOU wear sunglasses Remy: you heard me

Virgil: Murder is a sacred, individual choice that every person must, in their own time and way, encounter

Roman: lol, yeah, they pricked my finger Deceit: who are you? Snow fucking White? Roman: You mean Aurora or Sleeping Beauty you uncultured fuCKING SWINE

cat: walks on the backboard of bed Virgil: hello Allie whatcha doing up there cat: *starts biting his hair* Virgil: Allie child, we’ve talked about this don’t you remember? It’s not food, I swear cat: meows Virgil: yes baby cat, I understand it’s appealing. You really gotta stop. I need that hair for life purposes.

Logan: forsooth, yonder motherfucker Virgil: wherefore art thou motherfucker? Roman:deny thy thottiness and refuse thy title Virgil: what ho through yonder window breaks? tis the east, and juliet is a thot Roman: actual direct quote: "Give me my long sword, ho!" Virgil: "Get it yourself, asshole!"

6yo Thomas: don't give me that ass! Patton: ...what did you say 6yo Thomas: I said don't give me ass, because you're being assy and annoying!! Patton: you meant sass never say ass again

Logan: Sometimes I wish you didn’t get so worried about me. Patton: Ditto Logan: Wait, why?? Patton: Maybe it has to do with the fact you literally just carried my bags up three flights of stairs so I wouldn’t have to do it myself?

Virgil: i'm not lazy! Roman: you just poured in cream into your cup before putting it in the coffee machine just to skip the step of having to mix it Virgil: i'm efficiently lazy

Debate coach: hey guys, i've decided to shorten your training sessions! this is so that you guys don't burn out :) Logan, unable to keep his dumb mouth shut: thanks, that boosts me from 5 hours of sleep to 6!

Virgil, in the middle of the night responding to his dream out loud: ...posse

Official statement from Patton as law professor: "There is a lot of law"

Deceit, sneaking up on unsuspecting Virgil: eclair

Virgil: jESUS CHRIST DUDE-

Virgil, trying to explain why he couldn't see for like half of yesterday: What's up I'm Jared I'm 19 and i never fucking learned how to read Oh yeah, im going blind Stared at the sun for too long That's classified information. I'm gay i can't read

(Who said what under the cut)

Hela’s (@why-things-go-boom) teacher

Birkley @doing-my-demibest

Fae @theshiproyalarrives and friends

My dad my mom my dad my mom me

Fitz’s (@fivebyfive-finebyfive) teacher Fitz

Sparrow @poisonedapples

Roses’ friend Roses (I don’t think she has tumblr)

Elena @impatentpending Roses Skyla @skylagamingv2

Elena

Moon @moon-of-the-stars Moon’s friend

Roses and her cat Allie

Me Lulu Roses

Sassy @sassy-in-glasses Her little sister

Dallas (I don’t think they have tumblr) and friend

Roses and friend

Sassy’s coach Sassy

Allana (Don’t think she has tumblr)

Hawthorn’s (@hawthornshadow) law professor

Birkley and friend

Fitz

#sanders sides #incorrect quotes #ts deceit #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #ts remy #discord shenanigans #WOW a lot of virgil in that one #a lot of roses too #we've got some weird flexes up in here #cat's names don't need to be changed ok #what the fuck even

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rise-above-the-grave · 4 years

Text

voices to murder the nightmares

written for @stargatedrabbles‘s Week #19 prompt: Disgrace. definitely turned out to be more than a drabble, but...ehhh who cares. also, be forewarned, this is unedited and was honestly just vomited onto the page and left there... I know it’s not my best work, I know there are gaps and things missing, but I’m tired and want this done and posted, so have a half-assed attempt at mediocrity.

voices to murder the nightmares

Disgrace.

The word pounded through Sam’s head, all sharp edges and sharper corners. It echoed against the corners of her skull, reverberated between each crevice of thought, resounded inside bone and flesh and tissue.

You are nothing, the voice continued, cold and cruel and slick, like black ice, like bloodied steel, like stained silk. You will be nothing.

Captain Samantha Carter, second-in-command of Earth’s foremost interplanetary exploratory team, SG-1, crawled onwards. The earth was cold against her palms and bare feet, the leaves dead and wet and rotting beneath the towering fir trees overhead. She shivered, the wind cold as it blew between the trunks as big around as five men, her skin prickling beneath her t-shirt and BDU pants as the voice whispered again.

You are a disgrace, Samantha Carter. You failed your Jolinar. You failed your father. You failed your team.

I haven’t failed them yet, Sam thought, as fiercely as she could, and crawled on.

The sky was overcast, deep grey and churning with clouds. The air was cold—colder now, even, than it had been when SG-1 had arrived on the planet, and they had been able to see their breath cloud before them even then—and the wind colder as it whistled through the trees, leaping and laughing down to the earth to tussle the curling, brown ferns and leafless bushes growing up through the hard, frozen ground.

You have already failed your team, the voice went on. You failed Daniel when you left him alone on the planet for dead. You failed Teal’c when you did not embrace him with open arms when he first arrived on Earth. And you failed O’Neill worst of all.

How? Sam demanded of the voice. A rock caught the palm of her right hand, and she slipped on the wet stone, splitting her palm open. Hot, hot blood ran down her fingers and smeared across the dead leaves, leaving a gash of red against the brown.

An image rose up in Sam’s mind, like a window opening amid her thoughts and memories. It was her, sitting in the chair before the Za’tarc-reading machine. It was O’Neill, being escorted down the hall under heavy guard. It was O’Neill, sentenced to death for the sake of her own mind. It was—

No, Sam thought savagely. No, I saved him. We figured it out. He didn’t die.

Are you certain?

We weren’t Za’tarc!

Are you certain?

Yes!

And then another image, another window opening in her mind, and she was falling, falling, falling through it.

Janet stood at the head of an operating table, O’Neill lying before and beneath her. His eyes were closed as if in peaceful rest—but his head…

Oh, God, Sam thought, and she suddenly retched, pausing in her relentless crawl to vomit miserable bile onto the frozen loam.

See? the voice whispered. See what you did?

You’re lying, thought Sam.

Am I?

“Yes!” Sam shouted, and then clapped a hand to her bitter mouth.

Satisfaction and glee washed through her, starting from her head and crashing down into her curling toes. It was not her satisfaction and glee, however.

Sam pulled herself to her knees before the pool of her bile, then staggered to her feet. As soon as she reached her full height, however, it was as if a heavy weight—an impossible weight, as heavy as stone and iron and concrete—fell on her head and back and shoulders. She gasped for breath, and stumbled and nearly fell.

No, she thought stubbornly, starting to walk—and then to run. No, you won’t win. You won’t—

Ah, said the voice, but I already have.

Sam’s head was down, watching the earth beneath her stumbling feet. She dodged a pointed rock, she broke her way through a screen of bushes—she tumbled down a sharp incline and into a shallow creek at the bottom of a culvert. The water was nearly frozen, and Sam broke through a film of frost on the top of the still surface. Her hands and arms and knees and feet soaked through in an instant, the water frigid, and Sam choked.

How laughable.

Sam looked up—and froze. Standing above her on the creek’s culvert was a filmy, shadowy creature. Humanoid in shape, it had no hair. No clothes. No face. It was simply the blurred outline of a human, made of nearly-translucent fog and mist.

“No,” Sam whispered, and reaching out for the bank of the small creek, she levered herself to her feet.

Found you, the voice whispered gleefully.

“No,” Sam whispered again.

Yes.

The creature moved with blinding speed, rushing down the bank on unmoving feet. Sam lifted a hand and arm, braced herself for impact—only for the thing to pass through her defenses and run straight through her body.

She fell.

Pain. Pain and more pain. All-consuming, never-ending.

Each nerve was afire. Each bone was splintered. Each muscle was shredded.

Sam screamed.

Fire. Fire before her. Fire behind her.

Fire within her.

There was fire everywhere. There was nothing but fire. She breathed of it, her heart beat of it, her voice screamed of it. She could do nothing but burn, burn, burn…

No. Sam pressed her lips together, bit down on the scream bubbling up through her chest and throat and teeth. No, this isn’t real.

Not real? a gleeful voice asked. Ah, but what is reality but what you are experiencing?

Then I’m not experiencing this, Sam decided stubbornly. This isn’t real. Therefore, according to your logic, I’m not experiencing this.

I see… Well done.

Sam gasped and opened her eyes. She was lying on her side in the middle of the half-frozen creek, her clothes soaked, her hair sopping, her skin crusted with ice. The water was crawling into her nose and mouth, half-choking her, and she coughed and spat as she sat up.

So, said the voice. You are…stronger than we expected.

I would have thought that was obvious, Sam retorted, but tiredly. I’d already escaped from you once.

Only because we underestimated your sex.

You underestimated me again, Sam told the voice, and once more levered herself to her feet. The weight returned, pressing down on her even harder than before—and Sam bowed beneath it.

You will not escape, said the voice. You are too weak to escape us. Too frightened by us. Too—

You’re wrong. I’ll get out—and I’ll save my team too.

It is already too late for them.

I doubt that.

Why? You have no proof we have not already killed them—have nothing but my word.

Sorry, but your word means jack shit to me, Sam thought at the voice. All you’ve done is lie to me.

Have I?

Another window opened, and once more Sam felt herself falling through it.

She was back in the white-walled, white-ceilinged, white-floored room she had been awakened in that morning. The air was crisp and clean and sterile, like antiseptic, like chloroform, like death. Sam wrinkled her nose.

There were four beds in the room, two along each opposing wall to her left and right. One of the beds was empty. The other three were filled with her teammates. All three of them were bound tightly to the bed and were unconscious.

The door to the room opened, and in came a stream of what Sam assumed were doctors and nurses by their garb. They crossed to the beds of the still-captured members of SG-1, and three needled syringes were produced.

“Never fear,” said the doctor standing over Colonel O’Neill’s bed. “This will not hurt a bit.”

The needles were slid into SG-1’s arms, the syringes depressed. For a second there was stillness, silence, the expectant breath of waiting—and then O’Neill screamed, his back arching up from the bed’s mattress. Daniel followed suit a second later, Teal’c a split second after him. The doctor by O’Neill’s bed smiled, nodded, and took a step back.

It was over in a moment. Abruptly, O’Neill’s screams died, and he fell flat on his back, utterly still and silent. His chest did not rise and fall with breath; his pulse point did not throb with his heartbeat. He was—

Dead, said the voice. They died painfully and oh so alone, far from home—far from you, who abandoned them.

I went to go get help, Sam replied, opening her eyes to the creek and the trees and the overcast sky. I didn’t abandon them.

And look how well that turned out for you.

I don’t believe you that they’re dead.

And why not?

You’ve done nothing but lie to me, Sam thought again.

I’m not lying.

Yes, Sam thought fiercely. You are.

She began to stumble down the creek, numb feet splashing through the water. She slipped on a wet and mossy stone and crashed into the creek, spraying her face and chest with water—and climbed to her feet again.

You aren’t going to win, Sam thought. I am.

You have no hope. You are nothing but a disgrace.

This again?

Look at all the times you failed your people. All the people you’ve been responsible for dying—for killing.

No.

Yes.

I’ve done nothing but what I had to.

Of course. But people have still ended up dead. Like your wingman.

No, I—

And then she was drowning in thought and memory.

“Permission to fire. Command, permission to fire!”

“Permission denied, lieutenant.”

“But—”

“They’re attacking, Carter.”

“Shit, fuck, damn. Hold on Emmerson. I’m coming.”

“No, don’t, there’s too many of them. Finish the mission objective.”

“But—”

“NOW, Carter.”

Air rushing past her, the roar of engines, the shiver of the jet beneath her seat and feet and hands. Dark spots in front of her, darting around a shimmering silver one. Faster, Sam thought, pushing her jet farther, faster, harder. I have to get there. Stupid, stupid, stupid of me to suggest breaking up to finish the objective faster. Stupid me, stupid me, stupid me. I have to get there, I have to help, I can’t let him die, I can’t—

A blossom of red fire. Orange fire. Gold fire. The crackle of static on the radio. Then: silence.

“NO!”

Sam immediately clapped her hands to her mouth. She stood in the midst of the creek, trembling and bowed nearly double by the weight pressing on her shoulders and head and back. She retched for a second time, miserable and weak, and spat out noxious bile mixed with sour spittle. It swirled away down the stream between her ankles, disappearing into the barely-rippling waves.

You cannot escape us, the voice went on. You cannot escape the inevitable. You cannot escape your DOOM.

At the last, shrieked word, Sam looked up. And there, bearing down upon her, were several faceless, humanoid forms made of fog and mist.

She turned and ran.

It was nearly impossible. The weight bearing down upon her shoulders, back, and head was enough to crush her to the ground—had been enough to crush her to the ground, not an hour before. It had forced her to crawl, and Sam feared it would force her to crawl again once her stubbornness was used up.

The weight was nothing to the shrieking in her mind, however. It was nails against slate, glass against stone, metal against metal. It was a thousand wailing choruses all singing in agonizing disharmony, a thousand strings breaking, a thousand flutes shrilling discordantly. It echoed and reechoed in Sam’s mind, battering her skull and brain, shredding her thoughts. She lifted her hands to her ears as she stumbled, as she fell, as she picked herself up again and forced herself onwards.

Her hands came away bloody.

And still she ran—and still the faceless forms pursued her.

She gasped, staggered, tripped and fell with a splash and a cry of pain. Stones bit into her knees, into her numbed feet, into her elbows as she landed face-first in the water. She stumbled, choked on frigid waves, clambered to her feet once more, dragging in shallow, wheezing breath after shallow, wheezing breath.

I have to keep going, she told herself. I have to keep running. I have to—

You are nothing. The wailing abruptly resolved into words, pointed and clear and painful. You are nothing but a failure. But a disgrace. How many people have died at your hand? How many have suffered?

No, Sam thought, and pressed her bleeding palms to her bleeding ears once more. No, I’m not listening to you.

You cannot hide from the truth, Samantha, the voice keened. You cannot hide from those you’ve KILLED.

Emmerson, dead in a flash of orange and gold and red fire.

Martouf, dead on the embarkation room floor.

Daniel, dying on the floor of a Goa’uld mothership.

Teal’c, dying from the insect sting that had nearly transformed him into a dozen of them.

Colonel O’Neill dying amid the dripping, mossy trees of the Nox’s homeworld.

A dozen, a hundred, a thousand more: Jaffa dying beneath her bullets, Turghan’s blood staining her hands, Seth crumpled and broken in the tunnel floor beneath his mansion.

Not my fault, Sam thought. Not my fault, not my fault, not my—

Oh, whispered the voice with a thousand strains, but it is…

The creek swerved to the right, then to the left, and then, abruptly it emptied out onto a wide, sprawling river. Sam staggered to a halt at the mouth, then whipped around to look over her shoulder.

The faceless creatures came on, slow but steady, their feet unmoving, their forms rippling with the wind.

Sam turned, and plunged into the river.

The current grabbed her and swept her away, dragging her down, down, downstream, her numbed footing lost in an instant. She went under, choking on a stream of bubbles, once, twice, three times. She clawed her way up to the top, coughing and retching against the choppy, half-frozen waves, gasping for breath.

NO! the voice shrieked. NO, YOU CANNOT GET AWAY FROM ME THAT EASILY.

Dumbass, Sam thought. Did you really think I wouldn’t do what I had to do?

You are going to die! the voice wailed. You are going to—

A rock reared up in front of Sam. Too late for her to try to swim out of its way, WHAM, she struck it side-first. Something in her ribcage snapped, and Sam screamed out another stream of bubbles as she slid under the waves once more.

BAM.

She hit another rock, and felt another rib give way. CRACK. A third. SMACK. A fourth.

Cough, retch, gasp. Water poured down her chin from her lips, her tongue, her throat, warm and laced through with spit and bile. Sam dragged in one shuddering breath—and then choked as water flooded over her teeth, cold and sharp and clear, and down into her stomach.

You stupid girl! the voices shrieked. YOU STUPID GIRL. Would it not have been better to live beneath our rule than to die in pain and loneliness?

No, thought Sam. No. It wouldn’t. Besides, I’m not going to die.

A roar came to Sam’s ears. She spun in the current, haphazard and crazed—and caught, for a split second, a glimpse of empty air and mist.

Shit, she thought.

YOU STUPID GIRL, the voices wailed.

And then: emptiness.

Sam fell. Fell. Fell over the edge of the waterfall, plummeted through the air for ten feet, twenty feet, thirty feet. Sam screamed.

CRACK.

She hit the surface of the water beneath, felt her body break.

And then: darkness.

When Sam came to, it was to mud and cold water. She blinked, looked up at the churning sky, then looked down at herself.

Blood and mud and water soaked her through, staining her clothes and skin a mismatched smear of red and brown. She groaned, then used her one good arm to shove herself up into a sitting position. Her entire body throbbed, protesting the movement, and for a moment the world danced a spritely jig around her, swooping and hollering in a shrill, piercing whine. She leaned over and vomited for what felt like the hundredth time that day, and only straightened once more—with stars popping in her vision, with colors dancing over her eyes, with fire racing up and down her ribs and spine and dislocated shoulder and hip—when there was nothing left in her stomach to throw up.

“Fuck.”

So.

“Shit.”

You survived. Impressive.

You’d be amazed at what the human body can withstand, Sam retorted silently.

She levered herself to her feet using her one good arm and leg. She tottered for a moment, on the brink of falling over or screaming—or maybe both—before she clenched her teeth and her stubbornness and forced herself to stand tall. She hobbled once pace from the water’s edge, two paces, three paces, to the forest’s edge. There she stooped, and picked up a stout tree branch that had fallen from the tree above her.

Using the branch as a cane with her good arm, Sam began to make her way through the forest once more. She was lost, the stream having whisked her beyond her ability to maintain direction, and now only hoped that she would prove lucky in her search for the Stargate.

The walking slowly grew easier, her steps lighter, her mind clearer through the pain. Sam sighed a breath of relief—and then froze.

No, she thought. No, this is bad.

She turned—and immediately it felt as if she was walking into a wall. The weight returned to her mind, to her back, to her shoulders and head. And the voice—God, Sam thought, despairing, not again.

Disgrace, the voice whispered in her ear. Failure. You are nothing but damnation.

Sam gritted her teeth and began to walk.

The night was somehow even worse than the day.

Mind clouded with pain, with the beginnings of fever, and with the voices constantly reminding her of her about her darkest pains, the only thought left in Sam’s mind was Find the Stargate. Once there, she could dial the Alpha Site, and they could get her home. Home, where she could get help, both for herself and for her team.

One step. One step. One step at a time.

Left foot forward. Hobble a step. Left foot forward. Hobble a step.

The farther Sam went, the harder it grew. And as the forest darkened around her, so too, it seemed, did her mind.

You will never succeed, whispered the voice. And, This will be nothing more than another failure in a long line of failures.

You’re a disgrace.

You’re an embarrassment.

You’re nothing but a curse to those around you.

The sun set behind the clouds, leaving the world cold and dark and desolate. Sam wound her way through the darker shadows that were the trees, stumbling and staggering and tripping and falling time and time again. She screamed more than once, as her dislocated hip or arm were jostled, and she wept bitter tears of frustration and pain and despair as the night wore on, endless and seething.

The sun is gone.

The sun is gone, the voices repeated. Gone. Eaten by the night. It will never shine again.

The sun is gone, Sam thought, despairing. And, I’ll never make it. I’ll never find it. I’ll die out here, alone and afraid and in pain, and my team won’t survive either, and what little hope they had will be gone, and—

Gone, the voices whispered. Gone, gone, gone…

It was nearly dawn by the time Sam noticed the figures following her. They were grey, mist and fog, faceless, hairless, featureless. Their feet did not move, but still they glided forward, passing through tree and bush and fern alike, as if they were nothing more than smog.

“No,” Sam whispered, upon seeing them. “No, please…”

She tripped, paying too much attention to the forms and not enough to where her feet were going. She fell, crashing painfully onto the forest floor, and yelled as her dislocated arm took half of the brunt of her weight. Darkness swept over her, stealing her eyes, thieving her heart for one, brief second of time.

And then her sight cleared, and her heart returned, and she could see and feel once more.

She tried to stand. She grabbed onto her tree branch, and planted it in the frozen loam. She sought to hoist herself upright. She attempted to heave herself to her one good foot.

She failed.

The weight was too much. The voices too strong. Her fear too palpable.

Fine, Sam thought, turning over. Fine.

She began to crawl.

It was agonizing. She either held her injured leg up, off of the ground; or she dragged her wounded knee along behind her, carving a furrow into the frozen leaves. She could only use one arm, and so hobbled her way along, all the while holding her dislocated arm against her chest.

Five feet. Ten feet. Twenty feet.

It was excruciatingly slow. Sam wondered why the figures did not catch her and stop her.

In her mind, the voices laughed.

Oh, Samantha, they crooned. Oh, Samantha…

The sun rose. The morning waxed, and waned.

And still, Samantha Carter crawled.

She was hungry. Thirsty. In more pain than she could remember being in for a long, long time.

But still, Samantha Carter crawled.

Stop.

No.

I said stop.

And I said no.

Samantha…

Don’t call me that.

Very well. You have made your point. Now stop.

Never.

A sigh.

You are killing yourself.

And is that not what you wanted?

Yes, said the voice. It is what we wanted. Once.

Once?

Yes, once.

But not now?

A hum, as if thought made sound. Perhaps not.

Perhaps not?

You are delirious.

No, I’m not.

You are close thereto, then.

No, I’m not.

Another hum, this time one of disapproval.

Stop, Samantha.

I said not to call me that.

Stop, or you will run head-first into the Stargate.

Sam blinked, then looked up.

And yes. Yes, there was the Stargate, hulking and round, a black shadow against the shadow of the trees.

Oh.

Now rest.

But my team—

“Carter? Oh, God, Carter!”

We tried to kill you, said the voices—every thousand of them suddenly harmonious where before there had only been discord. We tried to kill you, because that is what we do to every person who desecrates our land by stepping onto it.

Then why am I still alive?

Because you proved more tenacious than we anticipated. Because you earned our respect when you survived the waterfall, and not only did you not give up, but returned to face us again, even knowing what you were going to suffer.

“Carter! God—Daniel, dial home. We have to get her back to Doctor Frazier ASAP.”

It has been many centuries since someone earned the right to live from us.

Any one of us would have done the same.

We believe that, said the voices. Somehow…we believe that.

Farewell now, Samantha, whispered the voices. If ever you are in need of us, you know where to find us.

“It’s going to be okay, Carter. We’re gonna get you home.”

Then there were hands beneath her, lifting her, and the smell of Colonel O’Neill’s soap and aftershave permeated the haze swallowing Sam whole.

“It’s okay, Carter. I’ve got you.”

Farewell, Samantha. Until we meet again…

Sam blinked her eyes open to the SGC’s yellow-lit infirmary. She turned her head, and saw Daniel and Colonel O’Neill both sitting asleep in chairs pulled up to her bedside. Teal’c sat in a chair on the other side, eyes closed in kel nor’eem.a

Suddenly, Teal’c’s eyes opened. He looked at Sam, and smiled one of his half-smiles that meant more than a thousand sunrises.

“Hi,” Sam croaked.

“Greetings,” said Teal’c. “How do you feel, Major Carter?”

“Like I’ve been kicked by a horse,” Sam replied.

Teal’c inclined his head. “That does not surprise me.”

“What happened?” Sam asked.

“We had hoped that you might enlighten us,” said Teal’c.

Sam frowned. “What do you mean?”

“One moment, we were asleep—and then the next, we were being led by the protectors of the planet’s peoples to the Stargate. There we found you, half-dead and pulling yourself along with one arm toward the Stargate.”

“Oh,” said Sam. “I don’t…really remember that part.”

“I am unsurprised,” said Teal’c. “You are suffering from a concussion, as well as severe internal bleeding, multiples broken ribs, lacerations, contusions, and two dislocated joints.”

“Right.”

There was a pause. Then Sam asked, “Did you hear any voices?”

“Voices?” Teal’c canted his head to one side, then said, “No. I heard no voices while on the planet.”

“I see,” said Sam. “Okay.”

“Why do you ask?”

Sam shrugged—and then regretted it. “No reason,” she said. She smiled at Teal’c. “Thanks,” she added.

“For what are you thanking me?” Teal’c asked.

Sam shrugged again—and again regretted it. “For sticking with me,” she said. “For not abandoning me. For being here when I woke up.”

“You are the one who did not abandon us on that planet.”

Sam raised her eyebrows. “It sure seemed like I did.”

“You were going for help, were you not?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Then you were not abandoning us. Quite the opposite in fact.”

Sam smiled again. “Thanks, Teal’c.”

“You are most welcome, Major Carter. Now sleep.”

Sam closed her eyes, and listened to her teammates’ breath even out as Teal’c reenterd kel nor’eem. She thought of the voice—the voices—whispering to her. She thought of the pain. She thought of the harsh words, and the visions, and the memories.

Sam drifted off to sleep, the voices’ final words echoing in her mind.

Until we meet again…

#stargate #stargate sg1 #samantha carter #teal'c #jack o'neill #daniel jackson #fanfic #seren writes

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magicksouth · 4 years

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BLOODY MARY RITUAL 🧟‍♀️🧟‍♀️

We were having a sleepover at my house that Saturday night. Me and my four best friends; Alex, Bianca, Sabrina, and Lacey. We made cookies and watched movies and did our hair and makeup. By midnight, we’d run out of planned activities. It was time to improvise.

“Let’s try that Bloody Mary thing,” Lacey suggested.

Alex, who was sitting crossed-legged on her sleeping bag, said: “What’s the Bloody Mary thing?”

Sabrina, who was lounging on top of her own sleeping bag on the far side of the room, said: “Come on, Alex. Everyone knows the Bloody Mary thing! You stand in front of the bathroom mirror with a lighted candle and say the witch’s name three times. Then her ghost appears, looking just the way she did when she died; all horrible and bloody with scars all over her face!”

“She sounds gorgeous. Just why, exactly, do you think I would want to see the ghost of Bloody Mary?” Alex asked skeptically.

“Why not?” I said from my place on the pull-out couch in the living room. “I’ve always wanted to see a ghost! It could be fun. Besides, I've heard she can tell your future if you summon her correctly.”

“And if you don't summon her correctly - or if she's in a bad mood - the ghost of Bloody Mary will rip your eyes out and leave your face horribly scarred,” Lacey said dramatically. “Or you will be found dead with claw marks all over your face and body.”

“Or you could be trapped in the mirror with Bloody Mary for eternity,” Sabrina added.

“Ooo, that sounds like fun! Disfigurement, death or entrapment. What a fabulous way to spend eternity,” Alex said sarcastically. “Where do I sign up?”

“It’s a load of crap,” Bianca said as she tried to balance on one foot on the arm of the pull-out couch. “It’s just a story told to scare little kids. Bloody Mary isn't real.”

“I’ve heard its real,” I said. “My friend Katie tried it once and saw the ghost in the mirror. Bloody Mary told Kate that when she grows up she is going to become a research doctor who cures cancer and saves lots of live and wins a Nobel Prize.”

“Hogwash,” said Bianca dismissively.

“There’s only one way to know for sure,” said Sabrina. “Come on! Let’s try it.”

I ran to the supply closet to get a candle and matches, and all of us, even Alex and the disbelieving Bianca crowded into our large downstairs bathroom.

"This is a bad idea," Alex said nervously as we lit the candle.

"Not it's not! It's the perfect thing to do at a sleepover," I said. "Like telling ghost stories. Only this one might be true. Here, you hold the candle." I thrust the flickering candle into Alex's hand.

Once the candle was lit, Bianca turned all the bathroom lights. As we stood before the bathroom mirror, I told everyone the story of Bloody Mary.

Bloody Mary was the name of an evil witch that live back in Colonial times. The witch used her black arts to make her young again by killing a bunch of young girls in her village. When the villagers discovered Bloody Mary was behind the murders, they burned her at the stake. Bloody Mary used mirrors to help her locate and enchant her victims, and she cursed all mirrors when the villagers executed her, so that anyone chanting her name three times would be pulled into the mirror with her to spend eternity in the flames!

By the time I finished the eerie tale, all my friends were looking a little nervous. But we were excited too. Maybe we'd see a real ghost! The candle in Alex’s hand flickered a moment and then steadied as the five of us chanted Bloody Mary’s name 3 times in front of the bathroom mirror.

I held my breath, not know what to expect, and wondered what Bloody Mary might say about my future. Maybe I would marry Robbie when I graduated from college! (Robbie was a cute boy that I liked in my science class.)

The five of us waited tensely as we gazed without blinking at our faces reflected in the glass. The only sound was the ticking of the little wind-up clock my Mom kept in the bathroom. I strained my eyes, trying to see through the mirror into some nether realm that I both dreaded and hoped might be there.

Finally, Bianca said: “Nothing’s happening. Let’s just get out of here."

She reached for the doorknob and turned it. The door wouldn't open.

The door wasn’t locked when we started the ritual. I knew this for a fact because I checked the door in case we needed to make a quick getaway. After all, there was the possibility – however faint – that it might not be just a scary story told to frighten little kids.

I rushed to the door, pushed Bianca aside, and unlocked it. But when I tried the knob, the door wouldn't open. Something... or did I mean someone?...was holding it shut.

Suddenly, Alex screamed and pointed at the mirror. I whirled away from the locked door and saw a glowing white figure staring at us from the mirror. Her face was twisted with malice and flames seemed to flicker around her. In one hand she held a bloody knife! It was Bloody Mary.

We all screamed and my friends backed away from the mirror; all but Alex who stood frozen by the bathroom sink with the candle still clutched in her shaking hand. All of a sudden, Bloody Mary lunged forward, her knife-hand coming straight out of the mirror and striking Alex fiercely in the face. Long scratches appeared on Alex’s cheeks and she stagger backward with a gasp of pain; hands coming up to protect her face. A wave of heat and anger poured out of the mirror in a blast that blew us head over heals. My forehead struck the wall and I felt senseless to the floor.

I woke in darkness a few moments later and groped desperately for the light switch. When I turned it on, I found Lacey unconscious beside me and Alex blacked-out beside the bathroom sink with deep scratches all over her arms and legs and face.

Sabrina was huddled sobbing behind the toilet. I pulled her out, and gasped when I saw she was also covered in scratches. She'd been standing too close to the mirror and the ghost had knifed her too.

I shook Lacey and Alex awake and the four of us clung together weeping and shaking with fear. “I told you this was a bad idea,” Alex gasped.

My eyes widened suddenly when I realized there were only four of us crouching on the bathroom floor.

“Where's Bianca?” I cried in alarm. I leapt to my feet and stared at the bathroom mirror, but it only reflected the wall and my frightened face. Oh dear lord, what if Bianca was pulled into the mirror with Bloody Mary? Would we ever see her again? What would I tell her parents?

“Try the door again,” Alex gasped, lunging forward to grab the knob. It opened immediately. Apparently, the door was released from the lock spell as soon as Bloody Mary disappeared.

We ran to the living room, hoping to find Bianca huddled in her sleeping bag. She wasn’t there. We searched all over the downstairs for her. I was about ready to wake my parents and confess the whole stupid mess to them when Lacey gave a yell from the laundry room. Bianca was lying unconscious beside the washing machine with blood and scratches all over her face. The ghost had scratched a message deep into the flesh of her right forearm. It said: "I AM REAL."

My stomach lurched and I wanted to throw up when I saw Bloody Mary's message. Instead, I knelt down and shook my friend's shoulder, trying to wake her up. After nearly a minute of calling her name, Bianca finally opened her eyes. She groaned and rolled to a sitting position.

“What happened to you?” I asked, dabbing at her cuts with a hand towel from the bathroom.

“After that…that horrible ghost knocked the four of you down, it grabbed me by the hair and pulled me through the mirror,” Bianca said with a shudder. “I felt something scratching my face and hands, and I tried to fight back but I was knocked to the ground and dragged along a cold floor by my hair. The ghost tossed me into a dark room. I couldn’t see anything, but I felt the ghost clutched my arm and there was this terrible pain. That’s all I remember until I heard your voices and the light came on.”

She saw the look on our faces and glanced down at her sore arm. She went so white I thought she would faint again, so I pushed her head between her knees until the dizziness passed.

We cleaned up the blood on Sabrina and Alex and Bianca and then the five of us huddled in the living room for the rest of the night; too scared to sleep. We made up some story in the morning for my parents about bumping into the furniture while playing a game to explain the scratches on my three friends. No one showed them the message on Bianca’s arms.

We’ve had other sleepovers since that night, but my friends and I never tried the Bloody Mary ritual again.

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sebeth · 5 years

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Crisis On Infinite Earths #2

Warning, Spoilers Ahead…

We start at the dawn of man where Anthro, the first Cro-Magnon man, is attempting to divert a herd of woolly mammoths (“serpent-noses”) from trampling his village.

While diverting the herd, Anthro shudders over the thought of Embra, his pregnant wife, giving birth to a girl: “Embra would never have a daughter…would she?”

I’m rooting for Embra to give birth to a girl. Go, Embra, go!

Congratulating himself on saving the village: “A hero? I am, aren’t I? Maybe the biggest hero the bear tribe ever…” *Klunk* Anthro is taken out by a tree branch. “It was a long beast or a serpent! He hit me when I wasn’t looking! Face me now, animal! Anthro is a hero!” As Anthro makes threats to non-existent attackers he catches a glimpse of a futuristic city. Anthro notices the herd of woolly mammoths have disappeared.

I fell in love with Anthro here. He was such a lovable dork.

We move on to the 30th century where the Legion of Super-Heroes are searching for Dawnstar. They also have to contain a rampaging herd of woolly mammoths that disappear as soon as they appeared.

The Science Police tell the Legion to call Brainiac 5. The Legion calls Brainy. He informs his team that the missing Dawnstar and wooly mammoths are the least of their concerns: “There’s anti-matter energy moving toward the earth from somewhere I still can’t determine! Enough energy to destroy not only us but the universe!”

Back to present day Gotham City as Batman battles the Joker. The Joker has murdered Harold J. Standish III because he wanted ownership of the millionaire’s copyrights. The fight is interrupted by the Flash who is requesting aid: “…Help me! Help someone…anyone! Please…Please…can’t you see the world? I…It’s dying all around me! Iris…Dying…the world is dying…may already be dead…save us…save us…save us…”

An unnerved Joker orders Batman to inform the Flash that he has no jurisdiction in Gotham City. The Joker has a hissy when Batman doesn’t order Barry to leave: “You caped and corpses-to-come have some sort of secret reciprocal deal, don’t you?”

What’s this? A Batman that treats his fellow heroes with respect instead of acting like a territorial douchebag for no reason? Shocking!

Batman pleads with Barry: “Where are you, Flash? I can help rescue you.”

The Flash disintegrates as Batman watches in horror. The Joker escapes in the confusion, fanboying over Batman’s detective skills.

This section makes me miss editor’s notes. Batman thinks about the Flash’s recent disappearance - Bam! - Editor’s note refers to you to Flash #350 so you can check out that story if you wish. Little corner in the bottom of the panel - why is that so hard for modern comics to accomplish?

Picking up where we left at the end of last issue: The Monitor explains to his assembled team the reason for this gathering. “Already more than one thousand universes have died.” Seriously? It took the death of a thousand universes to get your butt in gear? I would have thought the death of one universe would have been sufficient.

The Monitor’s explains the process: “The Anti-Matter force once more shatters the dimensional barriers…expanding outward, engulfing one universe and then another. Destroying all life…and hope. First your worlds will feel nature’s wrath as your planets cry out in agony…Worlds in upheaval: Earthquakes, volcanic disturbances, floods which will crush your coast-line cities like so many twigs beneath your feet.”

Firestorm rightfully calls out the Monitor for selling weapons to various villains for the past year. I mean, that is a strange course for saving the universe. The Monitor appeared in various issues before the Crisis mini-series as a weapons dealer for the bad guys. It was foreshadowing for the Crisis series along with the red skies that appeared in various comics.

Harbinger angst: “I will stand at your side…Yet why do I feel as I do? A force, and energy…burning inside me?”. Probably because of the shadow thing that possessed one of your duplicates last issue.

Psimon steps up, talks trash, and is smacked down by the Monitor.

Superman, as elder statesman, tells everybody to calm down and listen - the fate of the multi-verse is at stake: “I suggest, however, we hear him out. If he’s telling the truth, we’ll save our worlds. If he’s lying, no power exists that can defeat us all.”

I miss sane elder statesmen who restore order as opposed to team leaders who let a situation escalate out of control while a cosmic level threat is bearing down on the planet. I’m looking at you A vs X’s Captain America, Cyclops, and Wolverine. Save the universe first, pissing contests later.

The Monitor reveals he’s splitting the group into five teams so they can activate his machines in five different time periods.

Harbinger continues to angst: “I am unable to resist him. And I am forced to obey his commands. Forgive me…though you have been my father and more…I now betray you.” Monitor, meanwhile, is aware of her betrayal and that she will be the cause of his death. Maybe they should consider talking to each other? Poor communication kills!

The Guardians of Oa are on the verge of completing (again) the Green Lantern Corps. However: “No, Guardians…It’s too late. You shall no more summon your soldiers than prove a threat to my plans. What began with you so many centuries ago…ends with you now!!!” *SKRAAAAAA!* Huge explosion and unconscious guardians. How many threats to the universe have the Guardians created at this point? We have the Manhunters, the voice holding the grudge, later on its Parallax. Maybe the Guardians should be neutered for the sake of the universe?

A shaken Batman summons Supeman (Earth-1) to discuss his vision of the Flash. Superman arrives late as had to deal with an unexpected volcanic eruption in the Mediterranean. Remember, the Monitor warned earlier that natural disasters were the first sign the Crisis was nearing your planet.

Pariah briefly appears to repeat his gloom and doom mantra.

Batman and Superman share a look that all but says “Do you know this emo freak?”

Bruce notes: “He said the earth was dying. That’s what Flash said. What’s going on here?”

On to Kamandi’s world. For those unfamiliar with Kamandi - think Planet of the Apes. Animals have become the sentient rulers and humans are hunted. Kamandi is investigating a huge tower that has suddenly materialized. Kamandi encounters Superman (Earth-2), King Solavar, and Dawnstar. Kamandi recognizes Superman as he has met Earth-1 Superman. Kamandi is initially fearful of Solovar due to the political situation of his planet. Shadow demon attack! Solovar is wounded defending Kamandi.

Harbinger apparently rescued the Luthor baby from the abandoned JLA headquarters. Lyla checks on him only to discovers he aged up to childhood.

Arion, Obsidian, and Psycho-Pirate travel to pre-sunken Atlantis circa 40,000 year in the past. We meet Lady Chian, Arion’s love interest. Pariah appears, Psycho-Pirate uses his abilities to make Pariah laugh. Pariah acts like it’s a fate worse than death. You would think after his eternal suffering emo act he would appreciate a few moments of levity.

Psycho-Pirate attacks the Atlanteans only to be stopped by Arion and Obsidian. Psycho-Pirate disappears in a flash of light. A mysterious voice tells the Pirate he will “serve me as I demand”.

The Monitor is frustrated by the disappearance of Psycho-Pirate: “My dear, I needed him more than either Obsidian or Arion. The menace we deal with is one of emotion”. Equally frustrating for the Monitor is his inability to find Raven: “I can find no trace of her. If she is on this earth, everything about her has been changed.”

I’m mentally trying to sync up the Teen Titans storylines with the Crisis. Teen Titans was one of my main titles in the 1980s but it has been over 20 years since Crisis on Infinite Earths. I know we’re past the Judas Contract and Donna’s wedding and pre-Starfire’s return to her planet. I can’t remember if the second battle with Trigon has occurred yet – the one where Raven becomes red and four-eyed and ensnares the Titans in their worst nightmares. It would explain the “changed” life if the Crisis is happening during or in the immediate aftermath of the Trigon battle.

Finally: “Lyla, my dear, get me the file on the new Dr. Light! It is time for me to create her!”

Pariah reveals more of his origin: “No, not from this earth, but another…the first that fell when this insanity began. But long after I was cursed for an evil act I had committed. A deed I have paid for a thousand times over, and must suffer still a thousand times more. I witness tragedy and my being here means disaster is soon to strike.” Pariah mentioned his “great sin” last issue too.

Pariah:

1) From the first universe to die in the Crisis. How long ago did the Crisis begin? The Monitor noted earlier that over one thousand universes have perished – has this taken months, years, decades?

2) Survived the Crisis but committed a horrendous act “long after”.

3) Someone very powerful cursed him to suffer for eternity.

Pariah finishes his “woe is me” speech by noting “Anti-matter will sweep throughout this universe. In a matter of hours from now, your earth will die!”

Arion, Obsidian, and the Atlanteans look to the sky and witness the arrival of the anti-matter wave.

Another awesome issue. George Perez’s art is gorgeous as usual. Marv Wolfman’s writing is terrific. He’s handling a huge cast of characters and nailing it. The big crossover events aren’t my thing, I find most to be average at best but Crisis is amazing.

The issue ends with the possessed Harbinger reporting to they mysterious man in black.

I continue to miss aspects from this era of comics: editor’s notes, sound effects, heroes working together instead of mindlessly brawling, c-list and obscure characters (my favorite type), and the sheer scope of the DC multiverse. Bonus points for the amount of content packed into a single issue.

#Crisis On Infinite Earths #Batman #Superman #Flash #Teen Titans #Anthro #Kamandi #Legion Of Super-Heroes #Bruce Wayne #Barry Allen #Clark Kent #Raven #Arion #Pariah #Guardians of the Universe

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