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#or is this his first encounter and hood is running on ghost instinct?
kaidatheghostdragon · 3 months
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Crack prompt: Danny has declared war on the curses in Gotham. He is armed with a water balloon gun, but the balloons are full of medical-grade ectoplasm. He targets any location, ghost, or liminal being tainted by curses and/or corrupted ecto - absolutely drenching them before yeeting off again.
This includes the Bats. Danny is smart about it, though. He lived in Gotham for several months before acting, so he could get the lay of the land. He also waits for patrol to be finished before hitting the Bats - he doesn't want to interrupt their Quest to Better Gotham (or be labeled an invader to their haunt).
One night, Danny happens upon Batman patrolling alone and waits for him to finish cleaning up a crime scene before hitting they guy with a half-clip of balloons. Batman gives chase, like he always does, and Danny runs, like he always does. He knows by now that, for whatever reason, Crime Alley is off limits to Batman. The whole alley just gives off "no (other) bats allowed" vibes.
Red hood is just more territorial. Whatever.
At any rate, Danny is enjoying the chase, using just enough ghost powers to stay ahead of batman, almost-but-not-quite taunting him. Crime Alley isn't too far, so instead of turning invisible around a corner like he usually does, he makes his way to the Alley to see if the no-trasspassing rule is enough to stop Batman mid-chase. He leaps across rooftops and weaves through fire escapes, ecto-balloon-gun bouncing by its strap against his back, until finally he's at the border, slightly tapping into flight to make the jump across a slightly wider road into the alley proper.
He turns around immediately, spotting Batman skulking on the rooftop on the other side of the road, stopping the chase and suit half-covered in healing ectoplasm.
"Sanctuary!" Danny yells, pumping his fists in the air from getting caught up in the exciting rush of adrenaline, "I claim sanctuary!"
"Who the fuck is claiming sanctuary in my territory?" Red Hood booms from almost directly behind Danny. He would have yeeted out of his own skin from surprise if he hadn't spent years honing his ghost-fighting instincts. As it was, Danny instead whirled around and emptied the clip of balloons into Hood, purely out of reflex.
Hood stood there, drenched in ecto like his fellow Bat one rooftop over, glaring murder at Danny with glowing eyes. But his haunt betrayed Hood's true emotions.
Surprise, concern, impressed, you-little-brat.
Danny booked it to the fire escape and turned invisible the second he was out of sight.
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mokulule · 2 months
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The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - part 11
First | Masterlist
Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Fandom: DP x DC Summary:
Danny is just trying to build a portal home, becoming a thief was just an unfortunate side effect of that goal. Now if only this vigilante family would just leave him alone. Especially Red Hood - the semi retired crime lord whose ghost-like presence keeps drawing Danny to him.
Part 11:
Danny took a running leap and landed lightly on the next shoddily tiled rooftop. He’d lost the midget in the Southside factory district and now he was in some sketchy neighborhood with smaller buildings. It was on ground level, but it seemed almost like it was sunken into a hole as the rest of the city had grown up around it and swallowed it - one of the main highways even went plain over it. 
Danny stopped for a moment catching his breath. The roll of heavy duty cable slung over his shoulder was… well heavy. He looked out over the mishmash of old neon lights and newer LED signs for bars, nightclubs and little kiosks. In the alley next to Danny’s building money was exchanged for services Danny was not sticking around to watch. Blushing, he skipped to the next roof, taking care to land silently. 
He should just disappear, he was far enough away from his own hidey hole and he was tired. He was always so freaking tired.
But…
Well, first off he wasn’t phasing through a night club to go underground. 
And secondly…
Red Helmet hadn’t showed up. 
That was a good thing, Danny told himself frowning, as he walked along the spine of the newest roof, dodging around chimneys. The past weeks had been torture. 
Every time the Red Helmet had shown up it had been so hard not to go to him. He’d wanted so bad to give in, to just for moment heed the call of his core, the promise of companionship, comfort. Refusing that instinct was agony. And Ancients, Danny remembered how he’d looked in civilian dress, in that well worn henley, broad chested and with those big arms, he probably gave great hugs - if only he wasn’t one of the vigilantes trying to capture him… And if he wasn’t absolutely terrifying.
Danny shuddered, remembering how angry he’d been last time, yelling for him to stop. Yeah… Red Helmet was… He was an anglerfish, a lure, a treacherous light in the dark, that he had to resist, and last time he’d shown his teeth. 
Red Helmet not showing up was a good thing. 
Danny stopped and looked up to the cloudy night sky, jaw tight. It was a good thing. Why did he still feel so bereft?
He pulled the goggles down around his neck and rubbed his wet eyes angrily. Fuck it all, he just wanted to go home already!
His only warning was an electrical bzzt and he threw himself to the side instinctively. His eyes widened in fear as he only barely dodged two sticks sparking with arcing lines of electricity. Every hair on his body stood on end. The entire world narrowed in on those two weapons. He jumped backwards, uncaring where it took him he just needed to get away. 
Something hit his back and stopped him. His hands touched brick: wall. One of the sparking weapons was swung in lazy swirls as the dark shape attached to it bent down to pick up the roll of cable that had caught on a small chimney. Danny touched his shoulder, finding it bare of its earlier cargo. His hand tightened into a fist angrily and he cursed himself for not paying better attention. 
The shape got up and while half Danny’s attention was on the electrified weapon, he could now see it was Blue Bird. Danny had encountered him before, though only a couple of times. He’d been the bantering, good natured sort next to the angry midget, and he hadn’t known those sticks he used for weapons could do that.  
Realization ran cold down Danny’s back; Blue Bird hadn’t thought he needed the electricity before, but he did now.
Blue Bird moved and Danny ripped himself free of his petrification. Casting around he realized the wall was not a wall, but a pillar and most importantly neither was a thing that could stop him. It was only at the last second he went intangible and stepped backwards. The metal sticks clanged against the bricks where he’d stood. 
The sound of Blue Bird cursing, was a dull far away sound, as Danny started shaking. He kept a tight desperate hold on his intangibility but still felt himself losing focus. He quickly had to go somewhere. 
He dropped down until he found one of the many flood pipes that handled overflow if the sewers couldn’t handle the pressure. Something that seemingly didn’t happen too often judging by the dry debris left here. You could say what you wanted about this city, but the web of underground channels and tunnels was impressive, and the city was if nothing else prepared. 
He set down carefully and then let go of his intangibility. He was still shaking. His heart was pounding too fast. He wrapped arms around himself and took careful deep breaths even as his body told him he wasn’t getting enough air. But he was, he knew that was the panic speaking. 
He fucking hated electricity. 
Hated it. Hated it. 
You would think he’d be used to it by now. When he died, all the times Vlad shocked him, Vortex, that time Valerie tortured him in a basement, the- He forcefully shut down the thought. 
He should be fucking used to it by now!
But he was not. Especially not when it came out of nowhere like this. He’d frozen. They could have caught him. Danny could not be caught. Could not. Could not. Could not. 
Shakily he breathed in slowly through his nose and let it out. 
They were going to use electricity again. There was no way they wouldn’t take advantage of a weakness like that. 
He’d lost the cable.
Red Helmet hadn’t shown.
And why did he keep coming back to that! Of all things that should be the least of his worries. It was a good thing. It was. 
It just didn’t feel like it.
Oo o oO
Tim didn’t blame Bruce for letting him take point on this. 
After Jason had pointed a gun at him, he was rightfully shaken. Oh, he pretended not to be, but anyone who knew him could tell. There was a furrow edged on his brow even when he played Brucie whenever someone wasn’t directly interacting with him. He was worried and afraid.
And Tim got it. He had been there for everything. He understood how terrified Bruce was of losing Jason again, just as things had been slowly looking up. Bruce was drawing back, which was for the better. The alternative, that Bruce might come to a point where he thought something needed to be done about Jason, was too terrible to imagine. He would do it too, set aside his emotions, and do something, if he thought it was for the best. None of them needed the fallout of a Bruce who’d convinced himself Jason was too dangerous.
He was dangerous. But, thinking of the broken mirror, bleeding feet and tired eyes, Tim thought he was more dangerous to himself. 
It had been a painful realization to make. Tim had gone to Jason, with the mission in mind, only to find that maybe Jason had needed someone to check up on him for him. But even worse, Tim couldn’t be that person, because they didn’t have that kind of relationship. 
It wasn’t fair.
In an ideal world Tim got to be Jason’s annoying little brother. In an ideal world Tim wouldn’t be afraid of Jason. 
 What Tim could do was solve this issue. He took a deep breath and put all his emotions aside, they could wait. He was a plans guy and they needed a plan.
Tim surveyed the mess of papers he’d made of the table, as he’d pulled everything off the evidence board. It was time to start from the beginning. 
He sorted through and found the “meta?” sign, crossed out the question mark, and hung it in the center of the board. 
In the beginning they’d thought primarily that the Ghost used cloaking tech, but the phasing had made that very unlikely, and Duke had all but confirmed the meta theory when he told them he sorta glowed to his senses. He sorted through the papers and trashed those old theories. 
He put the known powers back up, then paused when he found the little scrap with a silly cartoon ghost Dick had drawn and put up in the corner of the original board. It had eventually gotten covered with something else and Tim hadn’t seen it when he took things down.
Now he considered it with a sigh, and pinned it next to the powers. Ghost was as good a codename as any and Tim suspected it was only Barbara who still refused to use it because Dick was obnoxious about it. And, Tim moved on to the picture of the phone to pin it back up, there was the fact that the recovered messages said nothing but “ghost”. So there was some connection. He marked that connection with a piece of string to the cartoon ghost.
The short contact list went up with the phone picture. 
At some point when this was all over Tim needed to take a closer look at that phone. He had no idea how that brick managed to get any signal, much less how all the contacts were out of service when called from that phone, despite some of them actually being in service. Yet, it could somehow call other existing numbers fine, both local, out of state and international. 
It made no logical sense!
He rubbed the bridge of his nose and let it go. 
Danny Fenton? went up above meta, they were reasonably sure that was his name. Next Tim took the list of known thefts and dates and hung it up on the left side of the board. Then added Star Lab break in a bit higher up. There was about three weeks in between the Star Lab break in and their first recorded sighting. It could mean anything. He could have stolen numerous things in the mean time without being discovered, or only just gotten to Gotham. 
Tim had scoured crime reports of Metropolis and other nearby cities for thefts that fitted Ghost’s MO, but had found none, so for better or worse he seemed to be sticking to Gotham for now. 
He put up buyer? And building? Underneath. Tim still had the terrible hunch he was building a portal that would end up destabilizing reality, but since he had nothing but his gut feeling to build that on he couldn’t put it on the board - not the board in the cave anyways.
He trashed a few dead end theories, found a scrap of paper that simply said “electromagnetic interference”. He held it in his hand for a moment, something niggling in his brain, but it was only half formed, he turned around and pinned it under powers and let it go.
Next he pinned up the “weaknesses”. Finally, thanks to Dick’s temper, they had something. He’d not been pleased to come home from his mission to the state of things being even worse so he’d gotten serious and treated the Ghost as an actual threat. 
Tim wrote electricity on a new scrap of paper and then put it under weaknesses. He tapped his chin with the capped marker. The Ghost’s behavior was odd. With the abilities he had, why even play chase with them?
He didn’t use the phasing to escape them early on. It was only when Jason entered the picture that began. Was it because the ability had a limit? Did it cost him to use it? Also what prompted the odd reaction to Jason that first night? And what about it made the Ghost so desperate he’d disappeared on them as soon as Jason was in sight?
Tim grabbed a new scrap of paper and pulled off the cap on the marker. He had to resist the urge to write “Jason” on the scrap, he’d keep that thought to himself, and instead wrote “limit?” And hung it under weaknesses with electricity.
There were more papers on the table. An analysis of the electromagnetic signal he gave off, that Tim had used to reduce noice in their visuals and audio. Pictures of the protein bars and the backpack. A map with every place the thief had disappeared on them marked: aka basically spread all over Gotham. A blood sample readout that was too degenerated for a useable DNA sample. These things didn’t go in the trash, but they weren’t important for capturing the Ghost, instead they went into a folder and put to the side.
Table now clear, Tim noticed his favorite mug full of steaming coffee and a plate of cookies set near the edge. He smiled and rubbed a hand through his hair self consciously. He hadn’t even noticed Alfred had been by, but he was a lifesaver. He would have to thank him later. 
He took the mug and a cookie and sat himself on the table, surveying the evidence board. He sipped the mug savoring the good coffee. It went perfect with the chocolate chip cookie. 
His eyes rested on “electromagnetic signals” again. It had been one of Dick’s early “proofs” that their thief was a ghost - if you subscribed to Ghostbusters lore at least. Tim rolled his eyes. The real reason the ghost couldn’t be a real ghost was that he was visible at all. Only magic users could see ghosts without a spell to make them visible (Something Tim was pretty sure Dick knew). He didn’t actually know whether the electromagnetic disturbance was a real ghost thing, the JLD didn’t need such tools after all when they could see them just fine. And besides if it was it probably wasn’t to the degree the Ghost gave it off. 
Would an EMP do anything? Probably not, since they were convinced the Ghost wasn’t using technology at this point, but a small localized pulse couldn’t hurt to try.
He took another sip of his coffee, contemplating, he needed something better. They could run the Ghost around all they wanted, but unless they stopped that phasing, he would get away every time. 
Jason couldn’t continue staying out of it like this. They’d chased the Ghost once without him and he was worse than a tiger in a cage, and twice as vicious. Tim scoffed, if only they could put the Ghost in a cage-
Tim’s thoughts crashed to a halt. 
No, they couldn’t- it’d never work- but if they- 
He jumped off the table, took three steps, then turned back to put down his mug and cookie. Then hurried over to the where they had the maps. With nimble fingers he sorted through the rolls only barely skimming the tags before discarding and moving to the next. They had to have- Got it! A utility map of the industrial area in Southside Gotham. He grabbed it and hurried back to the table. Unrolling it he placed the mug and the plate to hold down the corners even as he was already scanning the map looking for-
There!
It may be a while until the Ghost hit the area again. And they would need all hands on deck for this and preparations had to be made. But…
Tim smiled. They had a plan.
-
So we've gotten to this point :D Hope you enjoyed it! Comments will keep me warm on my night shift tonight <3
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criticofallthings · 3 years
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SO IT’S 5:12AM BECAUSE I’VE BEEN TYPING AWAY A NEW HEADCANNON PIECE OF CRACK IDEA THAT WOULDN’T LET ME SLEEP IF I DIDN’T. edit: bc tumblr mobile app is dumb I had to restart in a web browser and it is now 6:03 AM.
Anyway yeah so that Hawkmokn lore tab where we see Guardian lad and Crow get drunk and be merry (brain’s a little scramble rn, but I’m preeetty sure its the Hawkmoon lore tab)?? Yeah so that and trauma bonding / healing bc if I haven’t said it a thousand times and then sme yet, Imma say it again: POOR TRAUMATIZED GUARDIANS OMFG 😭😭😭
No title no beta bc literally just shat this out the past couple of hours:
cw/tw: ptsd, referenced major character death, death, implied depression/major grief, self depreciation
ps. usually I write nonbinary Guardian, but today we got lady she/her Guardian
pps. this fic is a heckin chonker compared to the previous ones
———————————————————————
Crow’s lips were gentle against the Guardian’s own, a bit dry, but sweet and heady with the lingering wine. The kiss was sudden. It was spontaneous. And it made something warm and so soft and so, so very fragile, hatch within the Guardian’s chest.
Until she opened her eyes and saw those golden eyes, glowly softly in the dark, beneath dusky white and raven black fringe. The pale smokey blue of his skin, luminous where it reflected the warmth of the campfire, and cast in deep shadows where the night’s darkness fought to shade his face. The smell of ash suddenly weighs much heavier in the air.
That warm, soft, and fragile thing in the Guardian’s chest goes cold and sharp and hard. Time slows and speeds up at the same time within her mind, stealing her away to a prison of memories. Blood rushes to her ears, drowning out the warning from Ghost to Crow and Glint.
The Guardian shoved Crow away and stood up, a heavy handcannon with a white spade on the stock materializing into her hand, aimed at Crow’s heart. An errant blip of data-Light to Crow’s left is all that hints at Glint’s swift dematerialization. Crow stays prone on the ground, spawled on his back, one hand raised up, in an attempt to pacify —unwittingly making it harder for the Guardian to snap out of that memory.
The stench of burnt oil, sweat, and soot fills her nose. She only hears the crackles of flames and electric buzzing as her heart pounds, coldly staring into Crow’s bewildered eyes. Those deep golden eyes that had haunted her waking hours and chased her down in nightmares. Those eyes filled with cruelty as they watched her stumble to Cayde’s dying side. She doesn’t realize yet, but the tears she couldn’t shed before, now weep from her eyes. The handcannon trembles slightly in her grip.
Ghost floats over into his Guardian’s field of view. He’s careful to let her know he’s doing so by giving her shoulder a bump as he glides to a rest above the stock of the handcannon. He hovers there, his one eye searching both of hers, glow dimmed slightly. His shell gives a soft whirl before he speaks, leaning in gently towards her.
“That is not him.”
The silence is deafening, every second only increasing the tension. Ghost clicks his shell, uncertain if his words were even heard. He tries again, bobbing in the air.
“Crow is not him.”
The handcannon trembles. But the Warlock doesn’t move, bound by so much tension you’d think she was a Hunter about to leap into the air to throw a Blade Barrage.
“Crow is not him.”
Ghost speaks again, insistent, shell whirling softly as he flits closer to his Guardian. A flicker of recognition crosses her face. The handcannon falters, no longer aimed directly at Crow’s chest. Ghost nudges her hand, bumping the Guardian’s aim to the ground.
She trembles, a full body shudder and the handcannon slips from her grasp. Suddenly she’s aware, all too aware of what happened, and the tension holding her still dissipates. She falls to her knees, energy completely spent.
“I, I-I’m so sorry.” She’s barely able to whisper the words in his direction.
Before her, Crow watches, eyes wide and doe-like, shocked and unsure of what to do. Of what just happened. A sinking feeling blooms in his gut.
He knows he wasn’t a good man before he died. Plenty of guardians had made that clear through their boot heels and fists, gunfire and knives, with their Light in three different energies: arc, void, and solar.  As did the Eliksni, who cursed him in their language while their Captains tore him apart with their four arms.
Crow knows it’s an understatement to say he wasn’t a good man in his previous life. Even if he could never learn about who that man was, what he did, and would only by the number of shattered bones and bruised flesh just how much pain that man had caused —Crow decided early on that he could take it. It was penance. It was justly due and therefore he couldn’t call it painful.
But this? This hurt.
It hurt because now he knows that the man he once was had struck an incomprehensible blow to the Guardian he had come to know more of. It hurt because he had been holding on to a small hope, an indescribably small bit of hope, that of all the people he had encountered in his previous life that he had never met the Guardian. Because if they had never met, then maybe, maybe there was someone he didn’t hurt. His first friend. His savoir. His now not-so-secret-crush. And the longer he thought about it, the greater that sinking feeling in his gut grew.
He could no longer deny the shock and subdued anger and almost very well hidden grief he had seen flash across her face when he revealed himself to her and Osiris. He could no longer deny the way they had kept him at distance while easily in sight with a hand hovering over their gun every time they met him for a Hunt or to study a newly sprouted Cryptolith. Why his attempts at humor and jokes were met with cool silence. Why whenever he saw that handcannon, he instinctively recoiled away from it, phantom pain bursting sharply in his heart.
——————
Crow remembers the first time he saw the Guardian wield that gun. How she had effortlessly cleared a pack of thrall in one clip, each headshot exploding in a flurry of solar. How his body reacted: legs collapsing beneath him, his heart burning painfully, lungs gasping for air that never seemed to make it into him, retching pathetically, as tears streamed down his face.
Why was he crying?
Why did he feel an insurmountable wall of sorrow and regret?
She had seen him fall and before the last thrall had burnt away completely, she came running towards him. All he could see in that moment was that gun getting closer and all he felt was an innate desire to get away.
Run, run, run, run, run before you die!
Run you before you burn!
The Guardian came close, hands splayed before her, voice speaking in soothing tones, words lost upon his panicking ears. He had screamed then, in abject terror. It was a garbled and pitched sound as he tried to breathe and vomit and scrabble away all at the same time; his eyes riveted to the handcannon now holstered at her side. Her Warlock mind, keen to details, quickly realized what had triggered his panic and she deftly threw the gun to her Ghost who transmatted it away mid-air.
Crow doesn’t remember what the Guardian said to him, but he remembers how carefully she reached out to him. How she framed his face in her gauntleted hands, so gentle, so lightly, as if he might shatter into glass —just to touch her forehead to his. How the puffs of her outward breaths ghosting by his cheeks helped calm his own.
And he knew then, in that moment that no matter what that gun meant that he was already in too deep. When with a simple touch, the Guardian could soothe away old terrors he himself knew nothing of, Crow knew then. He loves her.
——————
Crow slowly got to his feet, mindful of the Guardian (who was despondently staring into her open hands while Ghost hovered on her shoulder). He looks at that gun, chest starting to burn, heartbeat increasing. Clenching a fist at his side, Crow takes a tentative step and then another until he’s close enough to pick up the handcannon. He gingerly picks it up by the barrel, keeping his hands off the stock on purpose. It’s another small step towards the Guardian before he kneels in front of them.
He pauses there, unsure of what he can do —of what he did that caused the Guardian to react so violently before. He doesn’t think it was the kiss itself...that seemed to be fine until she looked at his face, into his eyes. Ah. Crow rests the handcannon on his thigh and pulls up his hood, jerking it to cover more of his face. Cautiously he grabs the handcannon by the barrel again and with his other hand, slowly reaches for one of the Guardian’s own. She lets him guide her hand to the handcannon and once he’s sure she won’t drop it, Crow gently pushes both towards her again. The Guardian looks away, but cradles the handcannon in her lap.
More hesitantly now, Crow raises his hands to cup her face just as she once did for him. He can’t exactly see with his hood covering so much of his face, but he slowly gets nearer and carefully moves his hands over the side of her face. He leans forward to rest his forehead against hers, the edges of his hood brushing across his nose as he did so, fully obscuring his vision. Crow doesn’t know of anything he could say in this moment —what could he of all people say to her, Guardian of guardians, that could possibly make a difference? So he doesn’t say anything. Instead, Crow softly hums.
It’s an old melody, a lullaby he found while exploring abandoned freighters and passenger ships in the Reef. When Glint discovered his fondness for it, the Little Light would often hum the tune, sitting on his chest, to soothe him on several sleepless nights in Spider’s Lair. Crow hopes that this at least, can help ground the Guardian in the present and away from the painful memories in her past.
They stay like this for a while. The Guardian’s breath evens out and somewhere along the time past, Ghost had dematerialized. It was just the two of them now. Crow stops humming when he feels the Guardian raise a hand to cover one of his over her face. She leans into his palm, then forward against his forehead for a moment.
“I’m sorry, Crow, I’m so sor—“ She starts to apologize and it’s a whisper until she says his name to apologize once more. Crow doesn’t want to hear this, he doesn’t deserve an apology. So Crow cuts off the Guardian by dropping his hands to her sides and pulling her into his chest.
The sudden movement sends the Guardian toppling onto Crow. He curls forward to protect his head, but keeps his arms around her, falling flat on his back. The Guardian doesn’t move to get off of him and Crow takes that as an okay sign. He keeps one arm around her, the other he moves to card his fingers through her hair.
“Of all the people in this world, Guardian, I am the last of anyone to whom you owe an apology.” Crow let’s his words hang in the air, trying to keep his breathing even so his heart would stay less frantic too.
“If anything,” he pauses to admire a particularly silky strand of hair as it slips through his fingers.
“I am the one indebited to you.”
There’s another pause as he sorts his next words before speaking. His hand idly resumes carding through the Guardian's hair again.
“So much so that I wonder if it’s selfish greed that makes me want to stay like this.” Crow sighs, looking straight up into the star speckled sky above them. At this angle he can’t see the Guardian, but he feel her shift slightly in his arms.
“Even though you’ve done so much for a worthless stain of a being as me…Even though I can never atone for the things I’ve done befo—“ He’s interrupted by the Guardian slapping a hand over his mouth.
“You are not him.” She shifts in his arms, sitting up, moving a leg over to straddle him properly.
Crow grabs his fallen hood in a panic, pulling the fabric so swiftly up around his face he hears the fabric creak as its seams struggle to stay sewn. Still, he doesn’t let the material go, trying to keep his face hidden.
“You are not him.” The Guardian repeats herself, lifting her hand from his mouth. Crow can’t tell with what emotion she said it with and he’s too afraid to check just yet. He doesn’t want to cause her harm again, regardless of how circumstantially accidental it was.
“Crow…”
He freezes at the way she calls his name. It was different from how she usually said it. It sounded soft and so warm in her voice. The Guardian prods at one of hands clamped on his hood. He turns his head to the side, trying to escape beneath a look he could practically feel brushing against his hands.
“I...I-I don’t want to hurt you...again.” Crow’s heart beats skittishly within his chest, causing a lump to form in his throat. He’s barely able to say these words out loud without an audible whimper to them. He tries to speak again, but fails.
The Guardian leans forward over him and a shifting moment later he feels her tap her forehead against his. Her hands rest, half-covering his own, but exerting no force to push of pry his fingers away from his hood.
“Crow.” She whispers his name, just as soft and warm as before. Her lips ghost across his clenched hands when she spoke, sending goosebumps down his arms. Crow tenses.
It’s a full body reaction as Crow completely freezes up. Once more he tries to swallow down the lump in his throat with little success. His tongue feels dry and too heavy in his mouth. He can feel his heart rate spike, beating so hard now he’s unsure if the metaphorical ache that had been nesting there is becoming a real one.
“Please, Crow?” The Guardian pleads softly, leaning back and letting her hands slide from his face to over his chest.
“You can’t hide your handsome face forever.” She tries to make it sound light hearted, an easy joke, but the anxious tapping of her finger against his chest reveals her anxiety. Crow takes a deep, shaky inhale, holding it a second before letting it out.
“I-I can’t.” Crow sputters, the breath he had taken just before speaking seemed too little for all the things he wanted to say. Did she really just call his face handsome right now? Oh Traveler, why was that now all he could focus on??
He feels the Guardian shift in his lap again. The movement snaps Crow out of his thoughts and inadvertently he tightens his grip on his hood again. Somewhere behind his head, a seam in the hood gives way and the fabric tears from the stress.
A small chuckle near his ear catches him off guard and Crow isn’t able to stop his head from jerking sideways. This gives the Guardian an advantage and she presses against him, letting her head rest side by side to his. It keeps him unable to turn his face again. Even still, Crow maintains his hold over his ruined hood.
“Well then...” The Guardian pauses. Her voice, low and smooth, is right next to Crow’s ear. Crow flinches slightly, swallowing rapidly again, not expecting her to be so close.
“...how am I supposed to kiss you back?”
“Huuh??”
Crow lets out a confused sound, brain derailing instantly, but also cutting some of the tension out of his body. Certainly, he must have heard the Guardian wrong. But the sound of two ghosts  re-materializing interrupts the Guardian (who Crow is now very aware is straddling him) from speaking as she suddenly freezes.
“OH. Oh! Oh...well uh, w-we’ll come back later!! N-n-not too soon, ofcou—” Ghost’s shocked rambling is halted by metallic clinking as Glint’s shell collides with his. In the background, Glint’s hurried whispers of “Just go! Just go!” are just barely audible before the two Little Lights decompile once more.
Above him, the Guardian lets out a heavy breath once the two ghosts are gone. Beneath his hands, Crow breaks into a brief smile at that. The brief interruption had brought a measure of calm to him and he didn’t want to waste the moment.
“I, well...the man I was did something pretty horrible to you, didn’t I?” Crow lets the question hang in the air, but pushes on. If he lets the Guardian speak now, he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to say these words again.
“Not just you, to all the guardians...the Vanguard, and even the Eliksni, maybe even to the Scorn.” The Guardian is still above him, listening, but against his chest Crow can feel the heavy, measured beating of her heart.
“A-and I know. I just know. That that handcannon --the one with the white spade— I know that man died to that gun...This body remembers, but I also think it’s much more than that.” Crow stops to take a shuddering breath in. He focuses on the steady feeling of the Guardian’s heart against his chest to center himself.
“When I see that gun...it’s like I can feel that final shot burning again and again. But then there’s so much more to it. So much pain that isn’t from that bullet, so much grief, and fear, and even anger. Anger at myself, knowing I —all I did was —all I caused was…” He trails off, not able to find the words to describe how those moments felt. When he speaks again, it’s all in whispers.
“But when I see you, I know it’s not right, I know it’s selfish, I know you didn’t even like me at the beginning….but when I see you, I know I’ll be okay. Because the Light gave me a second chance to be okay and you did the same.”
Crow stops when he feels the Guardian shifting again. She grabs him by his elbows and slides off of his lap, tugging on him to join her in a sitting position. His knees are now tucked under his chin and he can feel her legs framing his own. It’s silent for a moment, but then he feels her edge closer to plant a chaste kiss to the back of his hands.
“It was an accident, a trick of the light and shadow…I—you are not like him in many, many ways.” For a moment Crow’s heart plummeted to his gut, wrenching at her first few words. Her hands cover his own again and Crow’s heart grows light.
“Please. Look at me.” The Guardian asks Crow while gently pressing against his knuckles. She rubs her thumbs over the side and backs of his hands, small soothing gestures.
Crow clenches his jaw, then decides against it. He releases his hold on his cloak’s hood, fingers stiff and aching from how tightly he had clung to the material. Crow doesn’t let the hood fall from his face and keeps his eyes shut. The Guardian takes his hands into her own, warming and massaging them to ease the stiffness.
Once she deems his hands warm enough, the Guardian lets them go. Crow rests them at his side, not confident yet to open his eyes. He focuses on the way the air moves instead, trying to anticipate her next move so he doesn’t jump.
Slowly, the Guardian moves the hood off of his head. She cups his face with one hand while the other strokes his cheek before tucking several stray strands of hair behind his ear. Throughout it all, Crow is still. However, his heart beats fast within his chest.
“Wha-“ Crow’s questions are cutoff before he could even start to ask —the Guardian smothering them beneath a passionate kiss. She teases his bottom lip with her teeth and in his surprise, Crow opens his eyes.
He’s immediately consumed by the Guardian’s smoldering eyes, half-open to catch his reaction. Crow’s not one to be outdone, and he raises a hand to cradle the back of her head as he presses into the kiss. He teases the Guardian back with a lick of his tongue, half expecting nothing, but pleasantly surprised when she returned in kind. It’s a sweet and warm moment and once again the Guardian feels that soft and fragile thing flutter in her chest.
“See,” the Guardian whispers against Crow’s lips as she caresses his face, maintaining steady eye contact, “all okay. You are you.”
Crow’s brows upturn at her words, feeling almost overwhelmed. Those words offered more solace to his heart than the kisses —kisses which he could hardly believe happened. He’ll have to make sure she was on the same page as him later, because any further and Crow would fall even more inextricably in love with the Guardian.
They lean into each other for some time, letting the comforting silence speak for them. Beside them, the fire pops as it fades off, nearly just embers now.
Crow’s the first to move, stretching behind himself to reach a spare log. He tosses it onto the middle of the fire. It doesn’t catch right away, but the Guardian flicks a bit of solar Light at it and soon the fire cackles warmly again.
Adjusting himself, Crow scoots closer to the Guardian so that they’re sitting shoulder to shoulder.
“Could you tell me—only if you want to—about…” Unsure of how to ask and knowing it’s taboo for guardians to learn details of their past, Crow trails off.
“I-I just want to listen...if that would help.”
The Guardian catches his hand at that and brings it to her lips. She plants a gentle kiss on his palm. Looking into Crow’s eyes, she slowly nods. He leans forward to give the Guardian a chaste peck on her lips. Crow adjusts how he’s sitting to embrace the Guardian from behind and she shifts to lean into him.
“No questions about details related to your past, alright? Only if you don’t understand something like time or place.”
Crow nods several times, suddenly feeling shy and too anxious to speak. He hugs the Guardian tightly before easing up to let her speak.
“Alright,” She sounds a bit tired now, the exact kind of weariness that only comes from raging against a deep grief and losing the battle, but accepting the scars and moving on. One foot in front of the other. “it’s a Golden Age saying that the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.”
“Let me tell you the story of how a beloved space cowboy, an enigmatic jailer, and a terribly misguided, but utterly-devoted-to-his-dead-sister brother collided into absolute tragedy.”
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filthy-rat · 4 years
Text
one of your punk girls
“Okay, so this is going to sound weird but… will you do me?”
His eyebrows jerk upward and he rips his gaze away from the TV to look at you with a bewildered expression on his face. The beer in his hand tips dangerously to one side in his shock, and you snatch it before he can accidentally spill it on your couch. It’s gotten quite a few stains ever since Mary Goore decided to become your unofficial roommate, and it doesn’t need any more.
“Uhhh… wanna run that by me again?” Mary’s brows furrow.
Heavily, you flop down onto the couch beside him, and polish off the rest of the purloined beer. With your free hand, you gesture to his face and hair and clothes, and cock your head to one side.
“You know, do me… like one of your punk girls.”
“First of all,” he mutters, as he snatches back the bottle from you, only to discover it’s empty, and casts you a disgruntled scowl. He sets the empty down with the others at his feet. “First of all, I’m metal, not punk.”
“Same difference,” you mutter, reaching for the last beer in the pack on the coffee table. 
“Second,” he adds, slapping your hand away from his precious beer. “What makes you think you can pull off this fuckin’ dead sexy look, huh?” 
Flashing you a wicked smirk, Mary gestures to himself, puffing out his thin chest and striking a cocky pose. His eyebrows bounce saucily above hooded eyes, and a bark of laughter escapes you.
“Oh my God, Goore, has anyone ever told you that you’re a fucking dork?” You pick up a nearby throw pillow and whack him in the face with it. “C’mon, I’m tired of people giving us weird looks when we go out bar hopping.”
“Why would they give us weird looks?” He arches a brow. “Who’s looking at you weird?”
“Everyone! Because I dress like this,” you gesture to comfortable ‘normie’ clothes, “and you dress like that.” You gesture to his ripped jeans and sleeveless band shirt, to his messy devil lock and smokey raccoon eyes. You let your hand flop down to smack your thigh, and you pull an exaggerated pout. “I wanna be cool.”
“Being cool isn’t a matter of what you fuckin’ wear or what you look like.” Mary shoots you a scowl, and tosses away the pillow. “But fine. I can give you a little edge, if you want.”
Grinning, you yank yourself upright using his shoulder, and scurry back to your bedroom to retrieve your makeup. When you return with your bag, you find him sitting with one foot tucked beneath him and the other extended onto the couch. He’s put some music on through the TV—just some of the shit he’s usually listening to, but quiet. As you approach, he fishes a out a nubby black pencil from his pocket and sets it on the coffee table.
“Be warned, I ain’t exactly an expert at this shit, but,” he shrugs, “I get by. Kinda have to be sloppy with it anyway to get the full effect.”
You sit beside him, cast him an expectant look, and he smirks.
“We’re gonna have to get a lot closer.” 
With surprising strength, he yanks you into his lap, your legs straddling his waist and draping themselves over his thighs with your ankles resting at the small of his back. You and Mary aren’t exactly unused to physical closeness—since he’s moved in, you’ve both seen each other in various compromising situations and constantly use one another as furniture. But this seems more than those little encounters.
This feels surprisingly intimate. His face is only a few inches from yours, his eyes hooded.
“Alright, uh… close your eyes, keep ‘em closed.” As he unzips your bag, he reaches for the eye pencil he’d fished out of his pocket.
Obediently, your eyes flutter closed. He begins rummaging through your makeup bag, muttering in a disgruntled, quiet voice.
“What is all this shit?”
“Makeup,” you reply, laughing airily. You open your eyes and look down to see him holding up a concealer and staring at it in confusion. “That’s to cover—”
“I can read.” He drops the concealer back into the bag and begins pawing through your many lipsticks and eyeshadows and rouges. “You don’t need all this shit. Who needs all this shit for their face?”
“Some people have less than perfect skin.” You frown. “What do you use?”
“Eyeliner, eyeshadow. Grease paint. Blood.” He shrugs. “Easy.”
“You mean fake blood, right?”
“Same difference.” He pulls out a few eyeshadow palettes, opening each until he finds one with the color he needs, then uncaps the nubby eyeliner pencil. “I said close your eyes.”
“Sorry.”
“No smiling.”
Immediately, your lip curves into a smile and you try to bite it back.
“Hey, what did I just fuckin’ say?” 
A peal of giggles escape you and his breath ghosts across your face as he gives a chuckle, too. As you laugh, you feel his hand gently lay on your cheek, and it grounds you immediately. Pulse suddenly spiking, your laughter dies away and you bite your lower lip. With an unexpected tenderness, Mary drags the tip of the pencil across your lid, pulling your brow skin taut with his thumb to get a smooth line. 
“Ain’t really used to doing this on someone else,” says Mary quietly, as he lightly pokes and swipes at the line on your eyelid with the pad of his thumb to smudge it. “It’s, uh…” An airy laugh escapes him. “Little harder.”
“I know it’s impossible,” you say, smirking, “but if you manage to give me a tenth of your hotness, I’ll be happy.”
He snorts. “You don’t really need more fuckin’ hotness, do you?”
“Is that you admitting you think I’m hot, Mary?” With a smirk, you peek open the eye he’s not currently working on, and you’re pleased to see his cheeks have started to go red. 
“Close that fuckin’ eye.” With a punitive but light slap to your thigh, he meets your gaze, his glower only a little marred by the blush on his cheeks.
“Sorry.” Your eyelid falls closed.
“...You know you’re hot, okay,” he huffs, and gently turns your chin to one side. He leans in a little and begins lining your other eye. “You don’t need me to fuckin’ confirm that.”
“Still nice to hear.” Having your eyes closed helps you be a little braver. But only a little. Your voice goes quiet when you speak again. “Especially from you.”
The pencil stutters to a halt on your lid, and lifts off. The warmth of him momentarily recedes as he leans back, and your brow furrows in worry. You don’t dare open your eyes again. With a clear of his throat, he gently places his free hand along your forehead and continues to line your eyes. Distracted by the feel of his skin on your skin, you let him work in silence. He finishes with a little cats’ eye at each corner, and lightly swipes his thumbs over the points to give them just the right amount of smudge.
When he’s satisfied with his handiwork, he fumbles with the eyeshadow palette. Through your lashes, you watch him open the palette, pick up the applicator with a confused grimace, and toss it carelessly over his shoulder.
You snort out a giggle, he shoots you a warning glare, and your eyes shut once more.
After a moment, his fingertip is brushing along the outer corner of your eyes. They move up and into the crease of your lid, smearing pigment in their wake. He applies much more of the color than you would’ve normally, but that’s the point—to not look like yourself. Basking in the feeling of his hands on your face, you begin to hum with the music playing quietly from the television.
“Uhhh, lips…” mumbles Mary, and you open your eyes to see him scrub his blackened fingertips along the outside of his thighs to wipe them clean, then go back to rummaging in your makeup bag. “Black or like, dark fuckin’ red.”
“Mm, I don’t have any black, but…” 
You lean down and rummage through the little bag, your forehead bumping lightly against his. As he moves his hands away to make room for yours, you pretend you don’t see him watching your face with hooded eyes. Your pulse spikes when you spy him lick his lips.
“What about this?” You pull out of the bag a practically untouched deep burgundy lipstick. “I’m never brave enough to wear it.” You flash him a rueful smile as he takes it from you.
“Well,” he says, uncapping the tube and leaning forward a little, “we’re being fuckin’ brave tonight, yeah?”
“Y-Yeah.” You smile, and can’t help but blush a little.
There’s a softness to his eyes that you don’t remember seeing before. He clears his throat, and leans closer.
As if on instinct, you close your eyes as he applies the lipstick to your mouth—first to your bottom lip, and then to your top. Gently, he holds your chin between his thumb and index finger, guiding it to where he needs it. Eventually, he pulls the lipstick away, but he doesn’t lean back. You can still feel his warm breath whispering across your face and still sense his proximity. Eyes still closed, you frown.
“...Mary?”
Softly, lightly, he presses his lips to yours. You startle at the unexpected contact with a gasp. Your addled brain can think of only one thing.
“Y-You’re gonna smudge—”
“S’hotter this way, baby,” he mumbles against your lips, almost incoherent. “Edgier.” He hums out a half-growl. “Christ, you’re fuckin’ sexy.”
With a sigh, you melt into his embrace, and your hands bury themselves in his hair. For a few minutes, he continues on, moving his lips against yours until your head swims and your stomach is perpetually making somersaults. When he finally relents, he regards you with hooded, desire-darkened eyes. A wolfish smirk curves his lips—which are now slightly painted with that deep burgundy lipstick.
“Wanna see?” Resting his forehead against yours, he fishes out his phone, unlocks it, and taps on the front camera. He turns it towards you, allowing you to take in your smudged cat’s eye liner, messy smokey eye, and the smear of burgundy across your mouth
Wow, he’s right.
You are fuckin’ sexy.
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argonas · 3 years
Text
Are We Dead Yet - Pt III: A Way Out
[[ Co-written with @kidcatgemini​ & @sylaess​ ]]
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Avehi led the trio to a small cave. The term was a generous one; it was a hole in the cliff facing, hardly noticeable from the outside. Avehi only found it thanks to a subtle rune placed over the entrance. Not by her hand, but that of a friend. She peered inside, and once it was determined to be safe, only then did the Draenei lower her guard.
Argonas brought up the rear; his hulking mortal form only barely able to slip inside the cave-- and not without a bit of scraping. Still, he managed inside without drawing too much attention to himself or the cave overall. He loitered by the entrance, not keen on delving too deep in the cloistered space. Keeping watch was as good an excuse as any. He exhaled slow, even breaths to suppress his phobia. Few things gave him anxiety like rightly enclosed spaces. But he set that aside, out of necessity. 
For Sinafay.
His eyes turned to her, still unconvinced she was really there. It seemed… impossible. But he knew it was her. He could feel it, even without being able to touch her. She looked magnificent, even as a weary, time-tortured soul. Her defiance burned, an undiminishing aura that was so uniquely hers. He'd missed it so much.
Avehi was less sentimental in the moment. Of course, she didn't know this Sinafay too well. The similarities with her counterpart were strong, though; she blamed herself less for mixing them up the first time she encountered her, looking for the one she knew from Draenor. On second look… it seemed the two were inescapably linked, even across their different timelines. Curious. She shook her head, and turned to Sylaess; the provider and defender of their makeshift hideout.
"Any sign of Raetos?" Avehi asked her hooded elven friend, slinging her hammer over her shoulder once the cave opened up wide enough to allow it. "I don't know how much time we can spend looking for him."
A small shake of her head was all that was offered. The shaded hood didn’t offer much for expression, but it wasn’t really necessary in the Maw. She shifted, rummaging about the small quarry of supplies she’d netted. Two small packages bound in ebon cloth, to be fair. Food. Waterskins. Bandages. Inane things, but not to be expected of the Acherians.
She knew Argo would need these things. Hoped Raetos was good enough to find himself some forage--though it had a cost. Syl tugged the hemp straps tighter, securing them. A nasty Maw-sworn spear rested on the wall beside the entrance. Another thing she’d stolen. 
She didn’t dare steal more than a few glances at Sinafay. She was glad they’d found her, but the sight of her left Syl more confused than she wanted to wade through at the moment. She knew her, but did she really? She couldn’t exactly recall anything determinate about her, other than that she was Argonas’ mate and that she had caused the unlikely friendship between her and Argo. But there was more! 
She smoothed her hands on her greaves a moment and stood up, shaking her head again. “I can guarantee this place for but a few hours. They move fast on very little intel. Resources are not a concern of theirs.” Picked up the spear and stood quietly at the edge of the cave, watching outward. “I see groups moving up the pathways, but none returning yet. That may be our best bet. Won’t be easy.”
“Nothing worth doing is easy.”
Argonas moved just a bit further inside as Sylaess joined him at the cave’s entrance. He pressed his back to the wall, and exhaled a weary sigh. The Maw was taxing; he expected as much. But he had thought it would be taxing on his soul alone, not his body. And yet moving in this place felt like a chore. His body was an encumbrance, unfit for such a place. The Death Knights and Sinafay had no such burdens upon them; the former eternally strong and used to the feeling of willing their corporeal forms around. And Sinafay clearly didn’t have one to slow her down. Despite his physique, he felt fatigue deeply in this wretched place.
His soul was lifted, at least, as he looked to Sinafay. Getting this far was such a boon! Inspiring! He knew he would find a way to save her from this place. With her free from the Tremaculum, their journey was halfway done! He smiled at her, finding the fortitude to see this through.
Sinafay, for her part, seemed oblivious to everything around her. Everything but Argonas, anyway. Her tail swayed, eyes never leaving him. She didn’t know how many years she’d been in the Maw for, or even what it corresponded to on Azeroth. Argonas certainly looked older… or perhaps it was the beard? She noted some new scars on his features, and the longer hair! Her hand reached forward, but the ghostly limb simply moved through him.
She sighed. What she wouldn’t give to have her body back right now. Despite her disappointment in now being able to touch him, she returned his smile. That sight alone was enough to wash away the weariness of her soul. 
“We shouldn’t stay long, regardless. We need to find Sinafay a vessel of some kind, otherwise we won’t be able to pull her from this place.” Avehi replied to Sylaess, tail swaying in unease. “First, however, we’ll follow the group up the pathways you mentioned. Hopefully, it’ll lead to a way out of this place. In searching for both… maybe we’ll get lucky and find Raetos, too.”
This place was grating. It was the longest Avehi had spent beyond the veil, and it wore on her. The whispers were far too reminiscent of the Lich King’s reign. Worse, somehow. She hated it. 
“What do you think, Sylaess?”
“Yeah.” She side-eyed Argonas a moment. Offered him one of the neatly wrapped packages. She could be empathetic to his situation. It mustn't be fun. Wrapping her gauntlet around the spear, she slipped out into the bleak air. Quiet, despite wearing so much armor, and rather light on her feet. Seems she had recovered enough dignity to look professional. A single glance back was all she gave before she struck out. Scouting ahead.
It wasn’t until the hooded figure came near and handed Argonas a package. Sina tilted her head, taking a closer look at the figure.
“Syl?”
She glanced back, but hurried herself out. Nope. At risk of looking like she had just legitimately run away from a ghost, she tugged her hood and stepped it out. Aimed to melt into the motley grey and bleak of the landscape.
Not much use--anyone living stood out here. At least, in her own perspective. The dead carried a very certain...
What was it, exactly? Aura? No. It was something else. She just bloody knew. 
The eyes on her back raising the fine hairs at her nape was really making her begin to grind her teeth.
“The Jailer will have--!” 
She didn’t hear the rest of it. Took a mace to the head. Her stolen spear went skittering across the stones as if borne by a flood of spiders. Watched it skitter from her descending view.
Well, fuck.
The runes along her armor exploded into that terrible light. Pale blue, like her eyes had once been. Blaringly bright in this place. A massive spike of ice shot up under the scout--was it a scout? Who cares.--and through it’s oddly fleshy body. Syl stood up, roughly brushing herself off with a grunt. Scooped her spear. “I think we need to go now.” The mild displeasure in her voice was clear as the sun. Vicious self mocking at its best. These ... people? Whatever. Assholes, more like, came from thin air it seemed. Sometimes.
Sinafay couldn’t help but smile to herself. Yes, this was most definitely Sylaess. She’d fought along side the Kal’dorei long enough to recognize her movements in a fight. 
It was a bad sign that they’d been found already, though Sinafay wasn’t all that surprised. She stood up and walked over to the mouth of the cave to stand next to Argonas. Instinctively, her hand reached out for his… and of course passed right through.
“She is right. We are out of time. Where is our escape located?”
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urcadelimabean · 4 years
Text
The scene: night, Ahch-to. Moonlight illuminates three figures.
Rey: "Please, Master Skywalker. We need someone to teach us."
Luke, without emotion: "My answer is no."
Rey glances at Finn. He is still wearing a cloak and hood from their journey, which hides his face from Luke. They both look uncertain yet unwilling to give up. In such a short time they've become inseparable, and this quest is vital to both of them.
Rey, persistent: "We need someone to help us learn to control our powers. We need to be able to fight the First Order. Finn and I have come too far to turn back now."
Luke turns away. "I've already told you. I can't help you."
Finn steps forward now, his face still in shadow. "You can. You can do something. The First Order took me from my family, trained me, but I made a choice. There's always a choice. They've done the same to thousands of families, taken their children, made them into soldiers, used them to slaughter people across the galaxy, and they're only going to keep going...It will only get worse. We can't sit by and do nothing."
Luke whirls, his expression panicked, grief-stricken. "They took my son!" The words fall short of anger--they comes out a helpless cry of grief. "I can't lift a finger, a finger, do you understand me, when any stormtrooper could be my own child!"
Rey and Finn are taken aback. Luke's eyes are wild. But Finn steps forward, not dissuaded, his voice full of urgency: "Then we can do something. We have to fight. But to use our powers we need a teacher. Please." He casts down his hood. Blue moonlight illuminates his face and his intense expression. "Even if there's the smallest hope that one day I could find my family, or that you could find--"
Luke looks like he's seen a ghost. "My son."
He steps forward slowly, and time freezes. He lifts a hand to touch Finn's cheek, a mirror of Han and Kylo Ren, but his time the scene is filled with blue light.
"My son...."
Finn shakes his head just slightly in disbelief, holding back tears. "No, it can't be...I don't..."
Luke's hand trembles. He looks at Finn with tenderness and for the first time since they met him, his expression fills with joy and wonder. "You look so much like your mother."
Rey holds her breath. Tears finally run down Finn's cheeks. He asks softly, unsure,
"Dad?"
And yet he knows--they all do--there is an instinct, a feeling of certainty. The Force brought them together. Music swells.
Luke pulls Finn into a tight hug. "I'm so proud of you." His voice breaks. "So proud. Finn." Finn closes his eyes as more tears fall down his cheeks.
Luke pulls back to look at Finn. "And your mother..."
Finn, afraid: "What happened to her?"
Luke: "Nothing. Nothing. She was travelling across the island--she'll be back in the morning." His hand is calming on Finn's shoulder.
Finn, still reeling from everything, is now thinking about how he will soon meet his mother--his heart brims with emotions, and questions.
Finn: "Was I an only child?"
Luke smiles. Rey marvels how much he's come alive--no longer the bitter angry old man they first encountered. "A twin sister, Jannah."
Finn smiles like the sun after rain and Rey finds herself smiling too, basking in Finn's smile. She looks at the similarities between father and son. "I have a twin?" Finn asks in disbelief and joy.
"Like your father before you." Luke smiles, then looks at Rey.
Finn says, "Dad...on Starkiller, when we fought your nephew...my cousin." A strange revelation. "He...he wounded me. He meant to kill me. I lost consciousness, until Rey healed me somehow--neither of us thought that was possible."
Luke's expression is graven with pain and grief--at his son being being hurt--at the harm his nephew inflicted.
Luke regards Rey. "You're a strong young woman. I'll gladly take you on as my student alongside Finn if you'll forgive a grouchy old man for trying to turn you both away."
And just like that Rey realizes three mysteries have been resolved: Finn's parentage, the reason Luke exhiled himself, and for Rey, where she feels she belongs.
She can't help but grin. "Yes, Master Skywalker."
She watches as Luke and Finn walk towards the glowing door of the hut. She knows this is her destiny: to fight for the Resistance, become Luke Skywalker's student, and with Finn...she knows her future will always be enterwined with his.
"Thank you Maz," Rey says to the night sky. "You were right. The belonging I sought did lie ahead, with Finn, with his family, and the Resistance."
She smiles.
"Thank you, General Organa, for urging us to find Luke Skywalker. I think...I think with time, we might be able to hold back the darkness."
The scene fades, cutting to Leia...
The General looks up, as if sensing something.
"General?" Poe asks. "What is it?"
Leia begins to smile. "Hope."
Fade to black as the theme music begins to play.
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iwritethat · 5 years
Text
Jason Todd: Walking Dead
A/N: I know some of the plot points aren’t factual in the DC universe but I got creative with Jason’s character, hopefully it’s a nice read though. 🎃
>>>>——————————>
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Jason’s flatmate was weird.
He was never quick to judge someone and after all of the characters he’d encountered in his life , to reach such a label so fast was saying something.
In the beginning of the arrangement the two got along swimmingly, but soon enough the dynamic became rather ambiguous. (Y/n) was a friend of Roy’s and as such couldn’t be all bad - sure, they had their peculiar introduction but once out of the way it all seemed too good to be true. Roy brought up the proposal of living with one of his old friends when Jason needed a new temporary place to stay, he’d said (Y/n) had been there through his worst and helped him with recovery -?that no one was more loyal and reliable than them.
However, it grew considerably weird with the startled scream his sharer released when seeing him in the dark, now this was perfectly normal as maybe they weren’t used to having someone around quite yet - at least that would’ve been the explanation if they weren’t 2 weeks into their deal. Not only that but (Y/n) scrambled back to their room at record speed and slammed the door behind with no justifiable means.
Strange? Yes.
Next he noticed how they had an obsession with the heating, whenever he was around it always seemed to be on even if the weather of late October miraculously didn’t call for it. It had only begun after they’d cooked breakfast together, maybe they enjoyed the heat of the oven? He’d tried giving them blankets or even his hoodies and yet it wasn’t enough to break their odd habit. Again, weird.
Luckily he wasn’t staying for long...
———
Your new housemate was insanely weird.
Of course you had Roy Harper to thank for that, the only time he pays uninvited visits is when he wants something, your assumptions proven correct with his hinting text message.
[Katniss: U know how much u love me...]
Although his proposition was rather enthralling, his friend needed a place to lay low for a while and with your newly rented 2 bedroom apartment, you were his first choice and thus agreed.
He brought ‘Jason’ over a few days later so you could be introduced - and upon seeing him a vast sea of varying thoughts raced across your mind.
‘He’s hot.’
‘No he’s going to live with you.’
‘Is he one of those friends?’
But then another momentarily fleeting option halted your positivity - is he one of Roy’s older friends, the ones from his rough days of addiction and before you could even register your next actions you’d already subtly voiced such concerns.
“Please don’t bring any dodgy things here, I can’t have the police sniffing around.”
“Like what?” Jason turned to you, brow raised in curiosity.
“Drugs?”
“Oh no, I don’t handle that - I have people to do it for me.” Jason calmly replied, like it was the most normal thing in the world as he took in your kitchen whilst you shot a look that roughly translated to ‘you better be joking’ to a sheepish Roy.
“But I have guns and other weapons, are they okay?” Jason once again faced you with a serious expression, genuinely asking your permission and honestly you could not deny that beautiful man.
“Yeah, I mean sure. You’re not gonna use them right?”
“Not in the apartment. Unless someone breaks in obviously.” The ravenette was confident in his statement, now checking out your living room leaving you slightly baffled.
“Obviously. So um, why do you have them, and why do you have drug runners?” Intrigue burned in your veins, you couldn’t help but strive for answers given the causal circumstances of the contrastingly deadly topics.
“He’s a Crime Lord.” Roy smugly cut in, an immediate expression of concern shot at Jason who you’d hope would deny the allegations.
“Dude, way to sell me. I run a drug ring, you can never stop crime but you can control it so that’s what I do. None of my people sell to kids so that’s a start. So, what’s our rent?” He playfully punched his partner before elaborating and oddly enough it made sense to you.
It should’ve been a warning sign, what normal person makes a first impression by telling you he has people who handle his drugs so don’t ever worry about them being in your apartment. No one.
Although that wasn’t why he was so damn weird. No, far from it. You didn’t know what he was.
One night, you’d awoken to grab some water and tiredly walked out to the kitchen only to meet Jason who possibly just showered after patrol but as it was basically pitch black you couldn’t be certain. You met his gaze - his irises illuminated green - and you instinctively screamed, stopping short as he tilted his head slightly silently asking why you’d done so. Now you thought it was a misunderstanding, a trick of the light maybe, so you stared a few seconds longer and yet they remained dazzlingly bright like fireflies. It was then that you scrambled back to your bedroom slamming the door behind you and sliding down it to the floor with your hand over your mouth, water long forgotten. Safe to say you didn’t sleep that night, demons have vibrant irises don’t they?
It was unknown whether he knew about his glowing eyes, nor could you find an appropriate time to bring it up. You’d built up the courage to do so a few days later over breakfast which you’d opted to cook together.
He hovered over the oven, yourself standing beside him admiring his work until he turned to you with spoon in hand insisting you try some. You did so, holding his wrist steady - his skin beyond freezing - he’d been right next to the oven, how could he be so cold?!
You’d approved of the taste, even if he’d dabbed some on your nose simply for amusement and straight after you switched on the heating to hopefully warm him up a bit.
You continued this procedure whenever you felt he radiated unhealthily low temperatures and occasionally Jason offhandely mentioned that the weather wasn’t cold enough for such measures but you simply shrugged with a smile. Although he would throw a blanket over you, or even offer to lend you one of his hoodies to warm you up and yet you couldn’t understand why he thought you were cold when he was icy to the touch. Ghosts were inhumanly cold...
Plus, although the white streak was quite attractive on him, it was apparently a permanent characteristic but whose hair is naturally white in only one place at such a young age? Frankenstein maybe? But wasn’t he a zombie?
Luckily he wasn’t staying for long...
———
Halloween was upcoming so the TV stations traditionally broadcasted relating titles and it seemed the Sixth Sense was one of them.
Jason hopped through the window, fully clad in his Red Hood armour as the film was finishing, he’d gone to get changed and by the time he’d returned another horror was beginning. He’d joined you on the sofa, resting his legs over you purely for annoyance but you found entertainment in your playful dynamic.
“Hey (Y/n), do you think yelling at a guy holding an AK-47 is a stupid way to die?” It was a random but relevant start to a story he’d intended to tell.
“Oh god you don’t want me to solve cases with you do you because I’m not ready for that man. Like I thought I might be seeing dead people but this is too much.” That particular Sixth Sense related comment surfaced after he’d brought up vigilante related drama - of which he assumed you already knew about due to your relationship with Roy.
“Okay, what is with you? You’ve been acting so weird!” He finally needed answers, the unexplained oddities becomoning too much for both parties involved to the fact Jason was compared to a horror film character.
“Me? I’m not the one with glowing irises!” You sarcastically counter after Jason’s quizzical remark.
“Glow- What?!” He shut his eyes, fingers resting on the bridge of his nose before he looked up to again with a confused glance.
“Your eyes... they glow green in the dark sometimes, didn’t you know that?” Your tone was softer now, the sincerity in it making him want to believe your claims even more.
“No I didn’t... Are you sure? I mean it could’ve been a mistake if -“ Before he could finish, you turned off the lamp beside you and held your hand mirror in front of his face, low and behold they lit up.
“Lazarus green...” His voice was much quieter, tone holding a hint of pained disappointment as he spoke with an almost frustrated expression.
“A-what green?”
“Lazarus, like the Lazarus pits. It doesn’t matter (Y/n), you don’t need to worry about any of that, it will always haunt me by the looks of things.”
“It does matter, please tell me. I’m here for you, that’s what flatmates are for isn’t it no matter how temporary we may be.”
Surprisingly, after a long period of contemplative silence he began his turbulent tale of life, death, vengeance, villains and vigilantism leaving you rather speechless. It was certainly a befitting horror film script.
“...now I’m here, but hopefully one of my safe houses will be clear soon and I’ll be out of your hair.” He finished, shifting his feet that were now entangled with yours as you sat opposite one another on the couch.
“That revival pit, do you think that’s why your eyes glow? It would explain why you’re always cold, and your physical abilities too.” With a finger to your lips you calmly thought aloud, Jason also captivated by the concept.
“I’m cold too? That’s why you insist on keeping the heating on?” Despite his jest, he withdrew himself from you at the thought of affecting you with his apparent side effects of coming back from the dead.
However you shook your head, shifting forward and placing your hand against his, of course his own towered yours in comparison and he was a contrast of bemused and skeptical with your actions. You felt his skin warm up with your touch, the result bringing a smirk to your face.
“I don’t mind it. Your skin might be cold but your heart isn’t, and besides, I can always warm you up Jason.”
“Oh can you now?” He raised a brow at your unintentional suggestive statement, cocky but flirtatious smirk dancing across his lips.
“I - that wasn’t - I was trying - you know what, I’m just glad we’ve solved our differences.” As you attempted to justify yourself, Jason only laughed much to your feigned aggravation.
“True, I’m calling Roy over tomorrow. How could he not notice?” Jason managed, his he argument raising distinct confusion.
“This is Roy we’re talking about.” Was your only reply, though you would acknowledge just how incredibly smart and tactile Roy was any day of the week much like Jason would - but being apart the Outlaws meant subjugation to a few friendly insults.
“Point taken.”
———
Both Roy and Kori had dropped by the next morning to discuss your recent discoveries over breakfast which was a revolutionary one for all of you in some way.
“Glowing eyes? Ah, to be fair you usually wear your mask and helmet so I don’t normally see them and it’s not like I sleep with you so how the hell would I know? As for the cold thing, we’re always outside - if anything I just envied how Lian would always stop crying around you.” Roy calmly sighed, the revelations intriguing to him also and you suspected that he knew more than he was letting on. For a start, keeping such a thing to himself if only to freak you out once he moved in.
“Oh! They say that babies can see the supernatural, like when they just stare into space and people say they can see ghosts. It might be like that.” You laughed, although your comment caused the boys to consider the possibility as it would certainly explain why Lian ceased in her crying around Jason.
“I didn’t say anything as I thought you were trying to match me.” The goddess Kori giggled, her eyes aglow in emerald for demonstration.
“Anyway, is everything set?” Jason nodded to the alien, now concerned with leaving you in peace.
“Sorry Jaybird, gonna need another few weeks before you can leave.” Roy haphazardly shrugged, looking between Jason and yourself as he gazed to you with a sympathetic expression.
“You don’t mind do you? It’s already been 6 weeks, I can -“
“Jason, it’s fine. You’re too weird not to like, but we should stock up on food if you’re staying.” With a wave of your hand you cut him off and smiled, gesturing toward the cupboards as you mentioned them.
The Outlaws were all equally grateful, and soon Roy and Kori headed out meanwhile Jason began writing a shopping list.
“I thought that everything was in order for Jason to come back today?” Kori politely inquired once the pair had left, the previous information contradicting with her current knowledge.
“Shhh, it is but they get on so well, a few more weeks and they both might finally have a place they can call home for once.” Roy carefully explained, a hopeful glint in his eyes mixed with that of sorrow considering what his two friends had gone through.
“I see, as long as our friends are happy then I shall ‘shh’.” The Tamaranean joyfully agreed, all too chipper with the plan.
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zoocross0vers · 4 years
Text
A Zootopian Christmas Carol Part 4: The Future
A/N: Another part and then it’s just the ending! Again, really wish I had this done by Christmas, but I hope you’ve enjoyed it nonetheless :)
For my Latin/Mexican friends, I hope you had a great Dia de Reyes yesterday! :D
WARNING: This Chapter is a bit of a tear jerker. TwT
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FF.net Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13461657/4/A-Zootopian-Christmas-Carol
Chapter 4: The Future
Bogo's eyes widened in fear. What was going on? He looked toward the window and saw that it was dark out and the moon was full. “It's night time again. But-But how is this possible spirit?” He looked over his shoulder and saw that the large jovial cheetah was gone. “Spirit? Spirit!”
he called in a panic, “No, spirit please come back! You must tell me about Finn!”
He hyperventilated, realizing that he was all alone in the empty house. “No, no. This can't be. Spirit!” he called again as he rushed into the small kitchen in the next room. “Spirit! Wilde!” He ran back to the main room and called at the top of his lungs, “Tiny Finn! Someone! Anyone!”
The uneasy buffalo slowly backed up. “Please! What's happening?” he whimpered desperately, still walking backwards, until he bumped into something small. He let out a quiet gasp and he very slowly turned. He saw that behind him stood a small figure about the size of a child -- the size of a kit to be exact, wearing a hooded cloak of a dark purple shade.
Bogo stepped away from the figure in fear. The figure didn't move, nor did it say anything. “T-Tiny Finn?” The small figure silently shook his head in denial. “Th-Then, are you the Ghost of Christmas Future?”
The small figure nodded his head.
Bogo gulped in fear, “Spirit of the future, of all the spirits I was to encounter this night, your coming is the one I’ve feared the most. Please, tell me... what happened to Tiny Finn?”
A harsh gust of wind suddenly blew past them both. Bogo slowly opened his eyes when the wind calmed. He saw that there were lights back on in the Wilde household, and that by the window stood a forlorn Judith staring outside. “Judith Wilde?” Bogo asked.
At the dinner table, sat Bonnie, Stu, and Felicia. Felicia was helping her grandmother and grandfather crack open and peel the skin off some peanuts. James sat nearby his grandfather Jonathan, reading a book while also glancing over concernedly toward his mother from time to time. Jonathan meanwhile was teaching his grandson, Johnny-Stu, how to properly stitch up a tear in one of his pants.
A concerned Bonnie headed over to stand by her daughter. “Judith? Are you alright?”
Judith sighed, “It's getting late and...he hasn't come home yet. It feels like he's starting to walk slower and slower each day. I just don't want him to be drowning in his sorrows again like last time, huddling outside on that cold little patch because he feels so guilty about everything,” Judith's voice trembled at that last statement, as a tear threatened to stream down her face.
Bonnie placed a comforting paw on her daughter's shoulder. “Nicholas probably just didn't want him to be alone, dear. I know he's taken what happened very hard, but he knows that he has the rest of you to look after. I don't think he’d endanger his own health like that again.” Bonnie smiled.
Judith smiled back, but frowned again, “Still, that was a very frightening night. I thought he would never come home. And then...I would have already lost two.” Judith hugged her arms tightly, as her breath hitched and a tear streamed down her cheek.
“Two?” Bogo asked with worry, “What does she mean by that? Lost two what?” he desperately asked the spirit, who merely pointed back toward the scene before them. Bogo obeyed and returned his attention back to them.
Bonnie placed her arms around her daughter's, “Shh, shh,” the elder bunny gently shushed her with motherly care, “There, there dear. I know Nicholas is unlike your father in that your father wears his emotions on his sleeve. But even if Nicholas bottles up and hides his emotions, we all know that he feels guilty over something that wasn't his fault. He may not want to accept or believe that right now, but he will. Just give him time. He promised you that he’d never endanger himself like that again and knowing how much he loves you and the children, I’m more than certain he means it. Nicholas will be fine, you’ll see.” Bonnie gave her a reassuring smile.
Judith nodded with an accompanying sniffle. She wiped away at a lone tear and managed a meek smile,  “Thanks mother. I’m really glad you and father are here.”
“Of course dear,” Bonnie replied.
“I just feel bad for Jeremy and Lulu. I know this was their year to have you and father over for Christmas,” Judith said.
“Don’t worry about that. Your brother and sister understand why we felt we had to come here again this year. We promised them that we’d visit them on the 26th and 27th respectively, to make it up to them.”
Judith nodded understandingly. 
“Any sign of him yet?” Amelia asked, walking out of the kitchen. She approached the two does.
“No, not yet,” Judith replied.
Amelia stood beside them at the window. “I hope he comes home soon. I’m getting worried.”
“I know Mrs. Wilde, I am too,” Judith gazed back out -- the only movement she saw was that of other mammals walking around and of gentle snow falling. She sighed worriedly when she felt a tug at her dress’ skirt.
It was little Felicia standing by her leg, “Mama? When is Papa coming home?”  
Though Judith wasn’t certain herself, she simply replied, “Your father’s just running late again, Felicia. He’ll be home soon.”
“Is it because of Finn?” asked the small kit. 
“Yes,” she replied forlornly.
Before the kit could ask anymore questions, the front door opened. 
“Nicholas!” Judith exclaimed as she ran to him. “Where were you? Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said with a reassuring smile, though it was evident from his pinkish-red eyes that he had been crying. “I’m sorry if I took so long. I just wanted to spend a little extra time with him so he wouldn’t be alone on Christmas. After that, I decided to go to church to listen to some of the hymns in his place. I know he always used to like listening to them on Christmas Day.”
Judith smiled gently up to him, caressing his cheek, “I know he did. Thank you for going in his place, sweetheart.”
Nicholas nodded, his eyes growing a little glassy. “I…” he cleared his throat to prevent his voice from breaking, “I-I...I think I’m going to...go sit over there by the fire.”
Judith and the others watched him walk over to the chimney, all of them keeping a close eye on him but not one of them saying a word. He appeared okay, but there was something off about his step that made him look so hollow and dead inside.
Nicholas stopped by the chimney when he reached an empty chair that was sitting to one side of it. Beside the chair, there rested a small wooden crutch without an owner, carefully preserved -- just as the spirit had foretold.
Bogo laid eyes on it and felt his heart sink, “No…” he whispered quietly.
Nicholas stared quietly at the small crutch for a moment, then very slowly reached toward it with trembling paws. He took it into his shaking paws and stared at it longer, bringing it up close to his chest. Not a second later, he couldn’t take it anymore. His breathing became extremely erratic and his breath gave a violent hitch as he collapsed down on his knees to the floor, clutching the tiny crutch tightly against his chest, just over his broken heart.
“Nicholas!” 
“Son!” 
Cried Judith and Jonathan respectively, as they and the rest of their family dropped what they were doing and mad dashed over to Nicholas’ side. “Nicholas,” said Judith as she reached him first. Nicholas, still holding the crutch in one paw, quickly threw his arms around his wife’s waist and buried his face against her stomach. 
“It’s my fault!” he wailed against her. His eyes streaming with tears. 
She instinctively wrapped her arms around him to comfort him, “No, no, don’t say that! It’s not your fault.”
“Yes it is…” he wailed again, tightening his arms around her, “I failed him. I couldn’t save him. I should have...I should have...I should have done everything to save him and I didn’t! I should have hustled! Pick-pocketed! Done something! But I didn’t!...I didn’t…” he sobbed against her. 
Bogo watched him somberly, “Wilde…” 
He had never seen his normally cheerful employee look like this -- so broken and so fragile.
Nicholas sobbed, still clutching on tightly to his wife. Judith, who had now started crying herself after seeing her husband like this, did her best to comfort him between an equally broken heart and tears. “You did what you could.”
Nicholas shook his head, wiping his tears against her dress, “It wasn’t enough…” he croaked, “I should have done more...I should’ve...It’s all my fault...It’s all my fault…!”
Judith’s breath hitched as she brought his face up to hers, “No it’s not! It’s not!” she sobbed, her forehead pressed against his. 
“It’s my fault…” Nicholas whimpered once more as they cried to one another’s faces. 
The rest of their family couldn’t hold back their tears any longer and all huddled close around the two, hugging them as tight as they could, sobbing along with them.
Bogo kept his glassy eyes on his distraught employee, who kept crying endlessly. The cape buffalo hyperventilated, taking a couple of steps back in denial, “No, no. This can’t be happening!” He gripped at his head and then turned to the small spirit, grabbing him by his miniature shoulders and shaking him, “Spirit! Please tell me this isn’t happening! Tell me this all a dream and nothing more! Tiny Finn is still alive somewhere! Isn’t he? Isn’t he?!”
A harsh wind blew, blowing the spirit away as nothing more than an empty cloak in the wind. The wind grew more violent, forcing Bogo to close his eyes. 
When the wind passed and the snow cleared, Bogo found himself in a cemetery. Before him, lay a small grave, where the tombstone read, ‘TINY’ FINN TIBERIUS WILDE (1838-1844)
“No!” Bogo wailed, falling to his knees. It was true, the boy was dead. That sweet innocent little kit who had so much mercy in his kind heart for Bogo -- despite how cruel the buffalo was to his father -- was dead. DEAD.
Bogo couldn’t believe it. How could such a horrible thing be true? Bogo legitimately found himself crying over the little kit’s grave. “How could I be so cruel to let this happen?” he asked himself as a tear streamed down his face.
Someone approached Bogo from behind. It was the small, cloaked spirit. Bogo sniffled and wiped away a tear, “Spirit, I didn’t want this to happen. Tell me these events can yet be changed.”
Bogo and the spirit’s attention was deviated toward some nearby laughter. A few graves away from them, a group of three brown weasels were shoveling dirt inside a rather large grave site. “Hahaha!” they guffawed, “I’ve never seen a funeral like this one!” said one weasel with a bowler hat and green overcoat.
“Aye, no mourners, no friends to bid him farewell,” concurred another weasel with a newsies cap that hid his eyes.
“You think that’s bad?” added a bug eyed weasel by the name of Duke Weaselton. “I swiped this off of him.” The bug eyed weasel held out a gold ring with the initials, ‘E.B.’ engraved on them.
Newsies cap weasel lifted the cap from his eyes as both he and the bowler weasel stared at the ring in awe. “Oy! Is that real gold you got there Duke?”
“Did you really swipe that off his dead carcass?” asked bowler weasel.
“You better believe it! I heard this guy was a real cheapskate in life, but it’s nice to know he’s become real generous in death! Hahaha!” laughed the bug eyed weasel. The other weasel’s joined in on the laughter.
“Oy fellas! How’s ‘bout we rest for a minute a’fore we fill it in, eh?” asked the bowler weasel. 
“In the meantime, how ‘bout you treat us to some drinks, Duke?” asked the newsies weasel.
“Drinks? With this baby I could buy the pub!” declared a smug Duke. 
“Why not?” said the bowler weasel. “We got time. It’s not like he’s goin’ nowheres. Hahahahaha!” the three weasels guffawed and left the open grave site. 
Bogo and the small hooded spirit stood there watching them go. A curious Bogo stepped closer to the deep hole and peeked inside, “Spirit? Who-Whose lonely grave is this?” 
“Who’s do ya think it is?” asked the small spirit with a deep masculine voice that was far too deep to match the small child like size of the spirit. 
Bogo gasped, shaken by the sudden booming voice and stepped back, his foot slipping against the edge of the hole! He fell in, but not before gripping onto a thick tree root about a quarter of the way in. The terrified buffalo held on for dear life as he looked back down the hole and saw that it somehow became much, much steeper than it was before -- possibly even hundreds of feet deep.
The small spirit, removed his hood and revealed that he was a dwarf fennec fox. He looked down at Bogo with little to no care.
“Spirit! Help me! Please! Help me out of this unmarked grav--!”
The small fennec fox waved an arm over the tombstone, causing the dark shadows that covered it to move away and reveal the name marked on it. Bogo saw that the name engraved on the tombstone was: EBENEEZER BOGO 
Bogo’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped in horror. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, “What? No. No that can’t be! There must be some mistake!”
“You sure about that?” asked the spirit, “Seems pretty clear to me that this is your grave, Ebeneezer Bogo.” 
Just then, the echoing creak of an opening casket caught Bogo’s attention. He glanced down and saw that the wooden casket down below had indeed opened up all the way. Out from it, tall, bright, and fiery flames shot up at him, clawing at him, desperate to drag him down to his infernal punishment. 
“No!” Bogo screamed in horror. “Spirit! Please! Help me! I don’t want to die!”
“Seems a little too late for that, don’t ya think?” said the spirit, pointing a thumb toward Bogo’s headstone. 
“No!” Bogo shut his eyes, refusing to look at the name on the tombstone any further. “I don’t want that!”
“Well what do you want?” asked the spirit, pacing around the edge of the hole. “You can’t take your money down there with ya if that’s what you’re tryin’ to tell me.”
“I don’t want my money! I...I’m sorry!” Bogo cried with his eyes still closed. 
“What was that? Couldn’t hear you. Small ears y’know,” said the fennec fox sarcastically as he pointed to his large ears.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry for all I’ve done! I don’t want these shadows to be what is destined! Please! Please tell me that these are only the shadows of what may be rather than what will be!” The root Bogo was clinging to came a bit loose, causing him to move a couple of inches down. He held on tightly for dear life and tucked his legs in to prevent the fire from hitting his feet. “I-I mean, if a mammal were to change his life, then his life’s journey could also change! Please spirit! Say it so!”
“Do you ask me that only b’cause you’re afraid for yourself? Did you forget how your selfish ways affected the Wilde’s?!” scolded the spirit.
The root Bogo held onto, loosened a little more. He gasped in horror as he almost lost his grip, “No! No of course not! I haven’t forgotten Tiny Finn or the rest of the Wildes! I don’t want this horrible future for sweet little Finn or his family!” The root gave in a little more, “Aah! Help me spirit!”
“Help? You want help now? After you denied it to so many animals!”
The root further loosened, “I-I know I did! I was wrong! I was wrong about everything! I never wanted this future for Tiny Finn!”
“You sure it’s not the one you wanted? The kid was poor and part rabbit. And I could’ve sworn you said somethin’ along the lines of…” the fennec fox placed his hood over his head and brought it back down, morphing his face from his own to Bogo’s. He spoke to Bogo in the buffalo’s own voice, “‘If they would rather die, then they best do it fast and decrease the surplus population. Most notably you pesky hares and rabbits who don't stop overpopulating society enough as it is!’”
“Aah!” Bogo yelped in horror as he released the root with one of his hooves. As a result, he now dangled with one arm. This forced him to take a good look at the ravenous flames awaiting him down below. The spirit lifted and lowered his hood again, morphing his face back to a fennec fox’s. 
“Please spirit!” Bogo cried, sincerely and desperately, “Please hear me! I am not the mammal I was! I will not be the mammal I would’ve been were it not for you and your fellow spirits! Why show me this if I’m past all hope! Take pity good spirit!! Assure me that I might change these shadows you’ve shown me by an altered life!!” The root gave way more and more, “I’ll change!!!” The spirit walked away as if unconvinced.
The root completely gave way and Bogo fell along with it, “I’LL CHAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaange…………….!!!!!” he screamed as he fell down, down, down, into the fiery red smoke of the awaiting fire.
... 
A/N: *sniff* You don’t know how much it hurt to write that scene with the Wilde’s. TwT
Plus, I just realized that Nick’s family would be even further doomed in this future if Bogo died as he was the only one willing to give Nick a job. O.O
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indigomasquerade97 · 4 years
Text
Brothers Abducted
@brothersapart
Chapter 6 – First Encounter
 Jason watched from his perch. His target was just leaving the bar.
The man was young, with spiky hair. He was still wearing the same pristine suit he’d worn earlier in the day while he worked. Barely in his twenties, Jason wagered. Handsome, too.
And he was a hunter.
The community had been attacked by hunters already. The men had been hunting vampires, and had stumbled across one of the Mandimal havens once their case was finished. They were a hardy, stubborn bunch, he had been told. Nothing any of the other Oaks said had been able to get through their deep-seated rage and hatred for anything supernatural. And unfortunately, that included the Mandimal’s.
In the end, those three men had gotten out and attacked, resulting in two injured Shifters and one of the men to almost get killed in retaliation. The three hunters were left in the Dataspace Prison after that, where they would be suspended in a computerized reality until the higher-ups figured out what to do about them.
Jason watched as the target ambled over to the parking lot. His eyes narrowed. Jason was merely doing recon, finding out if this man would be as dangerous as the others had been. He didn’t want to kill him if he could. Hunters could be dangerous, but they were the only humans who could deal with the threats in the shadows. There were already so few of them as it was.
Although, he mused, tapping at his knife with a slight smile, if he is a threat, we can take him.
The man was on his phone as he pulled out his keys. He seemed irritated, rolling his eyes as the person on the other line talked. He snapped something, quickly jumping into a black car. An Impala, if Jason wasn’t mistaken.
… A 1967 Chevrolet Impala, to be exact.
Jason blinked, leaning forward to get a better look. A hunter, with that style of car…
No. Surely not.
‘… Jason? What’s going on?’
Jason hesitated. He watched as the hunter’s car roared to life, resting at a powerful purr. He reached into his vest, pulling out a small device. He pressed the button, resulting in a blue light activating, then threw it. It soared through the air and landed on the back of the car, an electric field resulting in it clinging to the metal. For a moment it moved, slipping behind the plates of the car, where it finally stilled, cementing itself to the car. The tracker was in place.
‘This case just got interesting,’ Jason finally answered, watching as the car sped out on the road and disappeared around a bend, ‘I’m fine, Mouse. But I may be home late. I… I need to check this out.’
Dean sighed as he parked outside of Bobby’s. When the older hunter had called him regarding those missing men, of course he’d gone over immediately. He wasn’t about to ignore the old man, after all. But he hadn’t realized how troublesome the case would be.
It wasn’t strange for hunters to go missing like this. With their line of work, deaths in the field were bound to happen. But Dean and Bobby had been working on this case for a number of days, and there was nothing there.
Okay, not quite true. There had been a nest of vampires. But they were dead. The hunters had cleaned the entire nest, and had been in the process of celebrating, if the drinks in their room were any indication. And then they had disappeared. No traces. No blood, no shining eyes in the cameras, nothing.
It didn’t sit well with Dean or Bobby.
The two had left the town and returned to Bobby’s place, where they had been researching for three days straight. There had been a couple of suggestions, but in the end, each creature was debunked. The entire town was clean, the vampire nest seemingly the only incident there was. It was quiet. There weren’t even any ghosts around, even though there seemed to have been only recently.
If he didn’t know better, it was almost like someone had swept the entire place, destroying any supernatural creature in a hundred-meter radius of the town.
Dean sighed, grabbing the bag and beer on the passenger’s seat. The research was going nowhere, making Dean long for a drink. But in his time at Bobby’s, he had gone through all of the beer. So, he’d gone to town to replenish their supply, and get a pie while he was at it.
He wasn’t looking forward to another night of sleepless research. He locked the car, swaggering into the house.
‘Hey Bobby,’ He called, stretching, ‘I’m back!’
‘Dean! Get in here!’
Dean had expected the man to still be in the library going over his books. But his voice was strained. That alone made his hunter instincts instantly take over. Dean dropped the pie and beer, running to the library even as he pulled out his colt.
Bobby was holding a shotgun just outside of the library. Inside sat what appeared to be a teen boy, wearing a dark green hoodie with the hood obscuring his features. He was leaning back on his arms, legs crossed in front of him. While the hunter was tense, still pumping with adrenaline, the kid was calm, unbothered by the two guns pointed at him.
Dean frowned, glancing at the devil’s trap. The kid was lounging right in the middle of it.
‘Demon?’ He asked Bobby. He nodded. The kid’s shoulders shook slightly, as if he were laughing.
‘He just showed up,’ Bobby said, slowly lowering the shotgun, ‘Didn’t even realize he was there ‘til he started talkin’.’
‘Daww, thanks mate,’ The kid drawled, pulling the hood back to reveal a shit-eating grin, ‘I do like to make an impression.’
‘And now you’re stuck!’ Dean snapped, lowering his gun, but not putting it away, ‘Why are you here?’
‘Recon.’ The demon said simply. His eyes flashed white for a moment as he regarded both hunters with interest. Dean and Bobby glanced at each other. A demon with white eyes? They had never seen that before.
At least it isn’t Yellow-Eyes, Dean thought.
‘Recon?’ Bobby asked, placing the gun down, ‘What for?’
‘To see if you guys would be as bothersome as the others.’
‘Wait, are you the one who killed those guys over in Jasper?’ Dean demanded. The demon frowned, an eyebrow raised.
‘Killed? No, no, they’re fine,’ He said, sounding almost affronted by the very notion, ‘They’re being cared for by our medics, last I heard.’
Bobby grimaced, grabbing at the closest bottle of holy water. He quickly flicked some of the liquid at the demon, causing the creature to flinch away.
‘Like hell they are!’ Bobby said with a growl. A demon only tortured and destroyed, playing with their prey like the monsters they were.
But something was wrong. The demon raised both eyebrows, casually flicking the holy water from his face.
‘Really?’ He demanded, sitting up straighter, ‘Was that necessary? I only wanna talk.’
‘We’re not talking with a fucking demon,’ Dean said, ‘Bobby. Get rid of him.’
The demon’s eyes narrowed slightly at hearing Bobby’s name, almost as if it recognized it. Bobby promptly began the chant. But the demon just shrugged, slowly standing up from the floor. Dean shivered, holding the gun up higher. This demon wasn’t reacting to the Latin words being spoken, like any other demon they had encountered. He sighed, crossing his arms. Bobby said the final words, and the hunters braced themselves.
But no cloud of dark smoke appeared.
‘I don’t get it,’ Bobby said, backing away as he stared at the kid, ‘A demon can’t-‘
‘Mate,’ The kid said with a smile, ‘Who ever said I was a demon?’ Then he stepped towards them.
Outside of the circle.
Dean stepped forward to shoot. But the creature reached out to him, twisting his arm as it ripped the gun from his hands and pushed him against the wall. It wasn’t a particularly strong attack, but it gave the creature room to move. Bobby had grabbed his shotgun, but the kid spun, kicking the weapon out of his hands. It then rushed forward, hitting Bobby on the side of the neck. The man gasped, then began to fall. He would have fallen hard if the creature hadn’t quickly grabbed him, gently placing him on the ground.
Dean groaned as he pulled himself up, staring at the monster as it placed Bobby down. He was unconscious. Or dead. He couldn’t tell. Dean growled, pulling out his silver knife from his jacket.
‘Calm down. He’s alive,’ The monster said as it stood up, looking over at him, ‘Besides, it was you I wanted to talk to, anyway.’
Dean growled again, launching himself at the monster. He didn’t know what this thing was, but he had to do something. He tried to stab the creature in the heart. But with a blur of movement, it stepped out of the way, ripping the knife from his hand as it swept his legs from under him. Dean grunted as he landed hard enough to knock the wind out of him.
The monster stepped away, twirling the knife in its hand. It looked away from Dean, admiring the silver blade.
‘Good craftsmanship,’ It mused, then frowned, ‘Though, a little rough, by the looks of this. First attempt at making a knife?’
Dean slowly stood up, eyeing the creature. He glanced briefly at his silver knife. The one he had made as a child as practice before… no. Don’t think of that.
The monster was watching him, waiting for his reaction. But Dean just glared at it.
‘What do you want?’ He demanded. The monster smirked, leaning against the desk.
‘Relax, would ya?’ He said, tossing the blade in the air. He caught the sharp end, then held the handle out to Dean. ‘Like I said before; I just wanna talk.’ Dean hesitated for a moment, then slowly stepped forward. He didn’t take his eyes off the monster, searching for any signs of aggression. But it just watched him, patiently holding his knife out. Dean gingerly took the handle, shoulders tense. If the monster attacked now that he was closer, he would be ready to dart back.
But it just relinquished its hold on his knife, smiling.
‘Was that so hard?’ He said cheekily, a laugh hidden in his jaunty tone.
‘You didn’t answer my question,’ Dean snapped, holding the knife ready, ‘Get on with it.’
The monster sighed, sitting up straighter. It opened its mouth, but sighed again. It didn’t seem to know where to start.
‘Look mate, like I said before, I was meant to be doing recon. The rest of us don’t want to deal with you hunters, so I had to see if you were getting close, and get you off our trail if necessary,’ He started, then smirked, ‘Should have been done ages ago, but… if you’re who I think you are, then we got a lot to talk about.’
‘And who do you think I am?’ Dean asked. The monster chuckled.
‘Don’t worry, I don’t plan on killin’ ya. That would be… counterproductive, to say the least,’ He said, then looked over at Bobby, ‘Wasn’t hard to figure out your friend over there. But you… you were harder to trace. And three days of watching from afar wasn’t giving me any answers. So, I decided to just talk to you about it.’
Dean’s grip on the knife tightened. This thing had been watching them for three fucking days? What did it even want?
‘I just need to know… Your name is Dean Winchester, right?’
Dean frowned. That was what it wanted to know?
‘…Yeah?’
‘House burnt down when you were about eight? Been on the road with your dad hunting ever since?’
‘Yeah.’ What is going on here?
‘’Kay, this one might hurt a bit,’ The monster said, tensing up slightly, ‘You lost Sam at Trails West, didn’t you?’
Dean stiffened. How? For a second, he saw a flash of white, could hear the witch’s voice as she cackled. Dean had tried to find that witch for years, to avenge his brother’s death. But she had disappeared completely.
How did this thing know about that night?
‘Were you with that bitch?!’ He demanded, stepping forward, ‘Did you have something to do with Sam dying?!’
The monster frowned, looking Dean over closely. Its fingers tapped idly against the wood. It looked troubled by his outburst, but Dean couldn’t think why. It hummed thoughtfully, looking away from him.
‘He didn’t die, Dean.’ He said so softly that Dean almost missed it.
‘W-what-‘
‘Okay, I think I got what I needed,’ The kid said, standing up at stretching his arms over his head, ‘We’ll be in touch later, ‘kay?’ Dean darted forward to grab him, to demand answers. This was the first mention of that night he’d heard in over a decade. A possible lead. But the monster was gone, having disappeared in the time it took Dean to blink.
Dean spun around, trying to find some sign of the monster. But it was gone.
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bakudekuficlibrary · 5 years
Text
BakuDeku: Supernatural Elements
A lengthy one this will be, all the goods in one list for your viewing pleasure!
These supernatural elements are all fantasy related works such as werewolves, vampires, demons, and more. Here is the list in order:
120 Works.
- Werewolves: 18 Works. - Vampires: 13 Works. - Mers/sirens/selkies: 13 Works. - Ghosts: 17 Works. - Witches & Fairies: 6 Works. - Angels & Demons: 21 Works. - Zombies: 4 Works. - Youkai/spirits/Kitsune: 1 Work. - Naga/monsters: 7 Works. - Mixed Elements: 20 Works.
~Eve ❣
Werewolves and were-creatures
[Discontinued] a boy and his dog: a wolf's tail by Ramabear (RyMagnatar), TheatricalPlacenta ( E | 102,947+ | 6/? )
In a world of supernatural beings, one young man is doing his best to get by.
Izuku’s a simple human and a college student, curious and cautious with a generosity and kindness that can be killer. But when a chance encounter with the Big Bad Wolf of campus breaks him out of his shell, will Izuku succumb to the flames of his new desire, or will he rise above it all?
But this bad boy Katsuki isn’t all that he appears to be. Behind that prickly exterior is a heart of gold and beneath that lies a hunger that Izuku can’t yet fathom.
Even if Izuku can manage to tame the wolf on his tail, what will he do with the beast inside of himself when it comes calling?
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence | Noncon groping ]
K-9 by warschach  ( E | 18,304 | 1/1 )
Izuku takes in a stray on one rainy night, except it's not a dog, it's a dog shifter who goes by the name, Katsuki. After the initial wave of panic and embarrassment, Izuku thinks his new pet/roommate is pretty cute.
You. Me. The Moon. by Copkilla1990  ( E | 67,555+ | 17/? )
it started with katsuki's uncontrollable werewolf wet dreams.
or something like that
[hiatus] i will not be tamed by the dark by wonduhhwoman  ( M | 10,530+ | 2/? )
Katsuki is looking to tie himself to the wielder of the Great Spirit of Harmony's power through a blood bond. Aizawa has other plans for the famed King of Beasts.
or
Izuku saves a wolf and earns a guard dog. It's begrudging on both sides.
Dear Fellow Traveler by Morpheel  ( E | 19,863+ | 4/? )
On the verge of completing a cure that would see to the end of many common ailments, Alchemist Izuku Midoriya grows desperate at the realization that he is missing a key ingredient to his brew.
However the blanket of night looms overhead, promising trouble to any who would dare venture out into the deadened woods at these hours. Many travelers have lost their lives braving the dangers of the forest, but it's a risk that Izuku must take, as the concoction would be unusable by the crack of dawn.
Yet the forest was never supposed to hold Werewolves.
Sorely unprepared for a run-in with the Alpha of a desperate pack, Izuku is captured, and held hostage within their ranks. In the midst of a clan afflicted with illness and death, Midoriya must survive the temperament of clan leader Bakugo Katuski, while attempting to find a cure for their affliction.
Easier said than done.
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence | Child Death ]
You're Everything A Big Bad Wolf Could Want by ElopeToTheSea  ( T | 23,959 | 5/5 )
Little red riding hood
I don't think little big boys should
Go walking in these spooky old woods alone...
In which Izuku saves a wounded dog, and ends up with a mate for life.
crescent fever by umbrage  ( E | 4,116 | 1/1 )
The night before a full moon, a werewolf’s inhibitions are at an all-time low.
Juggernaut by warschach  ( E | 19,357+ | 4/? )
What had four legs, a tail, fur all over, and went 'woof woof' in the dead of night?
Katsuki's soulmate, Izuku Midoriya, the werewolf.
Which is funny-if you're fucked up in the head and you're going to get real fast why Katsuki was a special Frosted Flakes brand of 'fucked'- because Katsuki's profession clocked out monsters' time card early.
It should be fine.
Narrator: It was, in fact, not fine.
(or Katsuki meets his soulmate at the worst time and under the worst circumstances, tries to deny his feelings while battling monsters, attending class-yea,no-, and trying to piece together the giant gaps in his past. so adulthood except everything does want to kill him.)
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence | Underage ]
Friction by warschach  ( M | 20,057 | 3/5 )
Izuku's getting married today.
To an alpha he hasn't met and doesn't know beyond his name and the kind of strain he was born with; lion if anyone was curious. And it wouldn't be that bad of a situation but Izuku's an alpha too with a tiger strain, and you know the spiel about alpha-alpha unions more fighting than loving in those bedsheets.
So there's a high probability this whole sham marriage might go up in flames if they're not careful; and when was the last you heard about alphas being careful, huh?
(or Izuku makes the right dumb decision to marry the right alpha under the wrong conditions)
Through Lies and Deceit by Shadowolven ( E | 15,351+ | 2/? )
Supernatural beings, termed occults, haunt the land in search for human victims for their consumption. The surviving human race, having splintered into numerous settlements across the land, struggle in a never-ending war to keep the occults at bay and to ultimately eradicate the fiends.
Izuku and Katsuki are such habitants, training to become professional hunters like their ancestors before them, aiming to become vigilant protectors of humanity. They've spent many years together in training and off, and tonight, on an evening full of celebration, they were given one last opportunity to relax and be the youth the town expected them to be.
But, things go terribly wrong when the truth becomes discovered: Katsuki Bakugou is not a human.
[ Homophobia | Graphic Depictions of Violence ]
He Who Catches by TouchofFever (UntappedChaos) ( M | 5,281+ | 2/3 )
Fantasy/Werewolf AU Izuku only survived the winter of his fourth year because a tribe of werewolves took him in. He became one of theirs, a son of wolves. Guilt made his wolven mother return him to humans once the seasonal melt arrived, but that didn't stop him from making a promise with someone... a someone who, however precious, he forgot in order to live.
Call of the Moon by SurelyHeavenWaits ( E | 44,662 | 11/11 )
Bakugou is a werewolf and his wolf hungers for one thing- well, one person. His childhood best friend. And he refuses to let his wolf hurt him.
[ Mildly Dubious Consent | Graphic Depictions of Violence ]
Izuku & Wan-chan by errant_rivalry ( G | 2,120 | 1/1 )
A unusual dog visits a boy so he doesn't spend Halloween alone.
Mine by bkdkwritingsdump ( M | 2,505 | 1/1 )
Izuku’s just a humble alchemist who lives in a cottage in the woods… with his werewolf boyfriend, Katsuki. Every month, when he can no longer control his wolf instincts, he gets particularly possessive, maybe even too possessive. (He’s still a sweet little sap under it all, though.)
Let Me In, Let Me In by osakakitty ( E | 3,131 | 1/1 )
Izuku finally has a day off from vampire hunting, and decides to spend it binging candy and television. His werewolf boyfriend has other ideas.
Halloween Exchange gift for Bubblyn!
Wolf’s Bane by tenneiah ( E | 24,041+ | 5/? )
It’s a world ruled by the humans.
It’s been 30 years of wolves getting hunted and killed by them. 30 years of prejudice, taboos and discrimination between both species. 30 years since the leader of the werewolves was murdered, trying to achieve peace.
Still after 30 years, a nerd named Izuku finds himself assisting an injured wolf in the middle of the night, in the heart of Tokyo.
[ Genocide References | Graphic Depictions Of Violence ]
The Hunting Party by MarionetteFtHJM ( E | 50,488+ | 12/? )
Izuku had gotten himself into many messes over the years. He’d once got stuck in the back of a restaurant after hours because he’d been too shy to ask someone to let him out of the staff bathroom he’d locked himself into. Or that time he got stuck on a roof of a house saving a random cat for some little girl’s sake. Or when his mom left him home alone for the first time and he invited four neighborhood stray dogs into the house and they’d made a mess out of everything. Come to think of it, most of his messes involved animals. Comically he thinks, this is no different.
(Alternatively: Izuku and Katsuki get caught in the crossfire, fake date and then solve some problems for some dangerous beings)
The Reason It's Wrong by Merrywetherweather ( T | 10,247+ | 4/? )
Izuku Midoriya is a Were species, a type of creature that has the ability to shift into a specific animal. As a rabbit Were, his mother had always taught him that
1) Weres had to keep themselves hidden, even from other Were species
2) He had to keep his identity a secret to protect himself from humans
and
3) He would most assuredly be hunted and killed if a predator Were found him out.
Bakugou Katsuki is such a predator Were. But his head's a mess, his primal wolf instincts conflicted about the newest hunt he's taken up.
An animal Wereau.
Vampires
red like wine by wbtrashking (fan_nerd) ( M | 12,593 | 1/1 )
Katsuki stops, startled by something crashing through the bushes. He hopes it's just an animal knocking into a tree, but his instincts have prepared him for the worst. He comes face to face with a deeply-wounded man, his eyes feral and dark. Blood drips from his clothes when the man falls to his knees.
Anybody with a wound that large has to be up to no good. Katsuki knows that fact very well
vigilance by wbtrashking (fan_nerd) ( M | 8,190 | 1/1 )
“I understand if it’s too much to deal with right now,” Izuku softly starts, “but I’d appreciate it if you two could tell me what's going on.”
One youth with silver hair offers him a wary look. “You with those creeps who have scales?”
Izuku shakes his head.
Then, the red-haired young man looks Izuku up and down, staring into his green eyes for a long moment before he speaks again. “There are rumors, right―about people that aren’t one hundred percent human.”
“Sure.”
“I’m one of them.”
Izuku and Katsuki are well-known vigilantes in Japan. Rumors about them spread far and wide, occasionally making their jobs more difficult. When they catch word of a syndicate doing awful experiments on children, the two of them chase down those responsible and make them pay.
Vampire Deku by Betery ( M | 7,453+ | 4/? )
Being quirkless doesn't mean you can't be a hero. Being at the right place at the right time and the gumption to DO something makes you a hero. Sometimes this can have fatal results; luckily fate was smiling was looking down on Izuku and he did in fact not die. However, something else DID happen to him that will affect him for the rest of his life.
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence ]
A Drop of You by felicitous ( E | 7,920+ | 2/? )
When Izuku is out celebrating with friends, he notices a familiar face in the crowd and learns that his childhood friend has changed in ways he never imagined possible.
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence ]
your kiss tastes so red by kewltie ( T | +4,057 | 1/? )
A wolf and a lamb falls in love. It's the perfect fucked up fairy tale.
[ Obsessive Behavior ]
Lovebites by mynameis152 ( E | 128,941+ | 39/? )
Katsuki Bakugou was going to hate this summer.
He thought he'd hate it because he was being forced to leave home and work for his mother's friend in a small, seaside town. He thought he'd hate it cause he was being punished for burning his room to a crisp. He thought he'd hate it because he hated change.
But it turns out, he hated the Supernatural Turfwar between four species that shouldn't exist but do a whole lot more....
Or
The one where Katsuki is forced to move in with Inko for the summer and finds himself falling for a particular bloodsucker....
[ Suicide Attempt | Graphic Depictions Of Violence ]
Bad Days by GreyDayMoon ( M | 11921+ | 6/? )
Izuku was having a pretty bad day.
Someone else was also having a shitty day too and ended up bleeding out in the alley Izuku was walking through.
Izuku in his bleeding heart nature decided to help him.
The day got worse for Izuku.
[ Graphic Depictions Of Violence ]
Don't Play With Your Food by bkdkwritingsdump ( T | 1,067 | 1/1 )
Katsuki feels apprehensive about the arrangement he's made with Izuku; he knows a vampire and a human shouldn't be in love. (But, here they are anyway.)
War of Hearts by Simplyfx ( T | +13,022 | 4/? )
Bakugo Katsuki hates vampires from the bottom of his heart, reason why he had promised himself to exterminate all of them from the face of the earth. His resolve falters when he meets Midoriya Izuku, a vampire who claims to hate him to death.
Ivory by Dark_Mage_Ayumu ( E | 3,566 | 1/1 )
When he looked up, Izuku was sitting in his lap. His mouth hung open as he panted harshly, messy hair even messier as it clung to his forehead. Katsuki could clearly see his top row of teeth, and how massive and sharp his canines were.
“Kacchan… Please… Just a little… I promise…”
[ Underage ]
Don't want the world to see me by undertake_r ( M | +4,167 | 2/? )
Katsuki doesn’t really think of himself as a good person. He never has, he knows he isn’t.
He supposes this was just karma coming back to bite him in the ass.
His dull red eyes stare up at the grey sky, blurry with the rain falling from the clouds above as it mingles with the blood from his weeping shoulder and probably broken nose.
The dull throb from the slice in his arm felt warm as his natural healing closed the wound slower than normal.
He’s going to have to use his last packet of blood on this bullshit. Fuck.
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence ]
you said you'd keep me honest (but i won't call you on it) by arifail ( T | 10,738 | 1/1 )
Deku wasn't Katsuki's problem so there really wasn't any good reason for him to be standing outside the nerd's door, hollering loud enough to wake the dead.
Or for Deku to be opening the door looking like the dead Katsuki had woken up.
Crimson Concrete by pearliegrimm ( M | 29,817+ | 16/? )
Bakugou Katsuki was pretty sure he had this vampire shit down to a tee. All he had to do was stay away from the sunlight, avoid churches and not have any attachments to humans? That was literally how Katsuki had lived his life up until now- it was the exact same, except, he supposed, with higher stakes (ha, get it?)
“Hey dude, does this mean you can’t eat garlic bread anymore?”
Oh.
OH NO.
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence ]
Merpeople, sirens, selkies
[Abandoned] Green Sea by HG_Wells ( M | 7,263+ | 1/? )
KatsuDeku Mermaid!AU (I haven't seen very many of them around and at this point it's just plain annoying)
Izuku Midoriya is Prince of the Sea, a young Merman who was next in line for the throne. He has everything a Merman could ask for, except for one thing; Freedom. He wants to see what the surface is like, but it's against every law in all Seven Sea's to breath air. But what Izuku thinks is a small trip turns into a live or die situation, and he finds himself placing all of his trust into a talented Biologist to get home.
Sugared Saltwater by halcyonwhispers ( T | 6,956+ | 2/? )
As a high class model for most of his life, Katsuki knows the ins and outs of any gig. He’s worked with Oscar-winning actor “All Might”, had his face plastered on magazine covers, and modeled Gucci and Prada for fashion week in Milan with that asshat Todoroki, so shooting a fucking perfume ad shouldn’t be hard.
Not even with the overgrown fish in the tank.
///
that one au where katsuki’s a super model and risks his ass to save a merman (and vice versa)
Songling by Seatrix ( Not rated | 2,471 | 1/1 )
A long time ago the sirens, who had ruled the seas for eons, decided they wanted to go onto land, and so they brought their songs and shared it with the civilizations on land.
Centuries later, all that remains of a siren is but a small scale set at the base of the siren’s throat, these creatures called themselves Songlings, and lived next to their original home-the sea.
There are many ways a scale could break.
For Midoriya Izuku, heartbreak broke his.
Fish Eye by sweetautumnwine ( T | 7,707 | 1/1 )
Izuku, a solitary merman, finds himself captured by aquarium staff and imprisoned in one of their laboratories; the man assigned to observe him, Katsuki, was on the boat when he was ensnared in the nets. As they grow to know each other more, Katsuki must decide where his duty lies, and Izuku must learn what his heart desires.
Fishy by warschach ( E | 19,417 | 1/1 )
Izuku’s convinced his hot co-worker/neighbor, Katsuki, is a mermaid-or merman- you gotta consider genders even with mythical creatures- and plans to prove it.
(or this is kinda like the show ‘Monster Quest’, except Izuku actually finds said monster, falls in love, and have sexy times.)
The sea, it calls me by MochiUs ( E | 17,860+ | 3/? )
One was searching for what was lost. One was looking for what was rightfully his. They were creatures of the sea, and this was their tale. This was the story of how a selkie and a merman fell in love.
[ Suicidal Thoughts ]
The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea by kewltie ( M | 1,834+ | 1/? )
Even the devil got nothing on Bakugou Katsuki, but it may have hand him something else. Something otherworldly, something scaly and with a tail.
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence ]
green around the gills by umbrage ( M | 9054+ | 3/10 )
In a world where mythical mer are born and bred for entertainment, Bakugou abruptly finds himself charged with the care of a battle-scarred betta.
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence | PTSD | Mentions of Abuse ]
shipwreck on the red sea by flowercafe ( M | 12,036+ | 3/? )
Izuku’s always been wary of sharks, but he never expected to come face to face with one like this.
or
Midoriya Izuku is a village fisherman who embarks on a dangerous quest to save his small mangrove village from starvation. When he accidentally stumbles into the treacherous waters of an apex predator, Izuku must figure out a way to endure the cold fury of one deadly and very volatile shark mer.
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence ]
Lifesaving Kiss by Paper_Wings ( E | 14,840+ | 4/? )
When a terrible storm sets in without warning, and Izuku is thrown overboard, he finds himself face to face with a living creature of legend. Stranded on a rock in the siren's den, the young sailor has seven days to convince the beautiful, but deadly siren to spare him.
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence | Dubcon | Panic Attacks ]
The Secret of the Sea by Trinatee_the_Manatee ( Not rated | 4,372+ | 2/? )
When he was young, Katsuki was very close to an omega merboy named Izuku. One day, a band of pirates came and stole Izuku from him. Now Katsuki is setting sail with a rowdy band of privateers, and he swears on the sea that he will get his Deku back.
What Am I? by FadedNobody ( T | 6,959+ | 1/? )
After crawling onto land over five years ago Katsuki discovered that life as a human could be pretty damn great. So when he finds himself training some nerdy green eyed loser at the surf shop why does his world suddenly stand still?
+++
Izuku's stuck in life and as door after door of opportunity closes before him he turns to the only thing he has left. Surfing the blue waves of his home town. So where did this blonde asshole come from and why does he insist he's a local?
for whatever we lose by kindaopps ( Not Rated | 4,553 | 1/1 )
He locks the pelt up in a chest, and keeps the key hanging from his neck.
The boy's face was devastated, but Katsuki found even that quite beautiful.
[ Dub-Con ]
Ghosts
[Discontinued] Casper Ain't Shit by CaridwenAngetueur1 ( M | 16,328 | 12/12 )
In which Izuku and his mother are murdered and become ghosts.
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence | Major Character Death ]
The Dust We Have To Breathe by Tyranno ( T | 11,861 | 8/8 )
Bakugo made a big mistake--a huge one--years ago that he never stopped regretting, and now there's only one student from his highschool getting into UA.
Well, 1½.
(Ghost!Izuku)
help our souls by writedeku ( T | 13,773+ | 3/6 )
Yagi Izuku died at the relatively young age of twenty one, and maybe he might've been content with that - except for the fact that he just can't seem to find the afterlife. Enter Bakugou Katsuki - the Police Academy's finest detective, angry at the world, conspiracy theorist, who quite literally walks into him one early evening on a late October's day. Katsuki hates him, or at least, for the first twelve hours.
I'll haunt the shit out of you by SlytherinsInSpace ( T | +13,258 | 8/? )
First of all- ghosts shouldn’t have anxiety.
Of all the fucking things that could have followed him into death- it had to be an ever-impending sense of doom and discomfort? Hadn’t he already reached his doom? Was death and doom not enough?
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence | Major Character Death ]
Handkerchief Dude by zubateatscakes ( M | 10,631 | 1/1 )
Mr. Anger Issues might be an alien, Izuku thought. He couldn’t explain his apparently unlimited voice volume otherwise.
“What have you just called me?” The guy cracked his knuckles and, face twisted in an evil smirk, stepped forwards into his personal space.
Izuku became very pale and then turned as red as a tomato. He flinched and moved backwards, but the man kept approaching. “Did I say it aloud?”
“You fucking did.”
“Oh crap. Sorry?”
“Take your fucking lame excuse for an apology and stick it up your ass,” Mr. Anger Issues spat out, nails digging into his palms.
Ghost hunter Izuku travels between the world of the dead and that of the living. Katsuki is troublesome and likes to brawl.
One day, Izuku finds Katsuki in a dark alley, and their lives entangle together.
Deal with the Devil by stars_go_dim ( T | 9,596+ | 3/? ) 
“So... I’m in hell?”
“Yeah, basically.”
Katsuki paused for a moment and looked Satan in the eyes with an unreadable expression.
“Sweet.”
—-
In which Katsuki makes a deal with the devil and is forced to spend the rest of his time on earth with Izuku until the deal has been successfully completed. However, not everything goes according to plan as Katsuki faces many problems along the way, as he slowly but surely begins to develop intense emotions for the boy - more intense than he had originally planned.
[ Major Character Death ]
Daffodils by magnificent_catastrophe ( T | 5,305 | 1/1 )
Bakugo's been running from his past, a past that holds feelings he's wanted nothing but to bury inside of him. Then one day, a fragment of his past comes to life. Now Bakugo has to deal with his 3rd Year at UA on top of a beast from his past. The road ahead is filled with tears and heartache, and quite frankly, Bakugo's not up for the challenge.
[ PTSD | Mental Illness and Instability ]
Yūrei by EclecticIsMyMiddleName ( E | 53,804+ | 4/6 )
Izuku's apartment is haunted by none other than Bakugo Katsuki's ghost. Imagine his surprise when he finds out why Katsuki's ghost can't rest in peace.
[ Major Character Death ]
Mizpah by SchnellerTod ( M | 6,086+ | 3/? )
The one in which Izuku gets a new life and Katsuki gets pain in the ass.
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence | Major Character Death ]
Yūrei no Eiyū by FandomManiac22 ( T | 42,281+ | 16/? )
"If you wanna be a hero that badly, there’s a quick way to do it. Believe that you’ll be born with a quirk in your next life and take a swan dive off the roof!”
When Katsuki’s comment comes at just the wrong time, Izuku takes his advice. But it is not the end.
Alternatively:
In another world where Izuku is attacked by the sludge villain on the way to school instead of after it, his dreams get crushed too soon. With nothing to save him and Katsuki’s words ringing in his ears, Izuku decides to end it all by jumping off his school’s roof. As his body cracks on the ground, Izuku does not pass on to the next world. Instead, he is left as a ghost among many others. When the slime villain escapes from jail and attacks the person Izuku can’t help but care for, he learns that there may be more to his afterlife than he thought.
And maybe he can be a hero after all.
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence | Major Character Death | Suicide | Depression ]
Amateur Ghost Hunters by bkdkwritingsdump ( T | 19,768 | 15/15 )
Izuku, aspiring film producer and fanatic of the paranormal, somehow convinces Katsuki, a staunch skeptic, to start an internet series with him where they investigate supposedly haunted sites. And with both boys attempting to hide their feelings for each other, one has to wonder if it's true what they say about horror and romance…
Hearse by Yousayhun ( M | 4,694 | 1/1 )
I will never go backwards I will never be free I will never run faster Will you sink down to me? I will never go backwards I will never be seen In the wake of disaster, will you sink down to me?
Or the one where Bakugo-kun is seriously sad and Izuku is a ghost.
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence | Major Character Death ]
EVP Sessions by autochorystalize ( T | 9,682 | 2/2 )
Izuku had been interested in the paranormal for years now, spending many weekends exploring haunted locations and trying to document proof of spirits. Tonight was the start of his next big project: creating a documentary series about paranormal investigation.
Katsuki thought Izuku was full of shit, but he always showed up anyway.
[ Mentions of Suicide ]
Unseen by Catching_Wildfires ( Not rated | +2,864 | 1/? )
If Izuku knew anything about himself, it would be that he was dead.
He didn't remember how it had happened, but here he was, sitting right on top of his school rooftop, gazing into the sunset, with no one else to see him-
"What the fuck are you muttering about, shithead?"
-until now
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence ]
The Witching Hours by bkdkwritingsdump ( G | 2,622 | 1/1 )
Katsuki’s apartment is definitely haunted, but the ghost actually seems to like him, maybe even love him. Can he date a ghost? Is that okay!? Izuku thinks yes, but then again, he’s the ghost ;)
Pit Stop by bishounen_curious ( E | 2,821 | 1/1 )
Izuku's best college memory is definitely when he fucked a ghost on a weekend hiking trip during his junior year.
Written for Scarlotis Luna for a Halloween Exchange!
Quietus by Kovhha ( T | 12,936+ | 3/? )
Green eyes struck his and pinned him in place. Bakugou froze, and his knees felt weak. Big green smiling eyes looked back at his. Freckles wrinkled in a grin, curled hair cupping his cheeks. It had been the happiest damn picture of Izuku Bakugou had even seen. It was so alive, Bakugou almost thought he saw movement from it. But it had just been a picture. A worn picture now that he was looking. It was yellowed and curling at the edges, a stray water stain rolling over one cheek. It was nothing but a cheap imitation of the real thing, nothing but a lingering memory, quickly being forgotten by the passing people. There was a stand holding equally wilted flowers and long burned out candles. It was very far from the rest of the bodies, Bakugou knew the site well.
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence | Major Character Death ]
Witches & Fairies
That One Time Bakugou Blew a Fairy by CaridwenAngetueur1 ( E | 962 | 1/1 )
Bakugou meets a stranger in a club and decides to give him a blowjob.
Unfortunately, the stranger is a fairy.
a deal of a lifetime by needsmoresleep ( T | 3,903+ | 2/? )
Izuku had been told many times not to wander outside of the woods or too close to human civilizations.
Your Darkness is My Light by Pikachuscribbles ( G | 1,177 | 1/1 )
Bakugou Katsuki is a new era Umbra Witch; something he found out was part of his lineage at age four. However, a certain green haired boy -his best friend since childhood- always had a knack for attracting trouble. And now, here they are, with his Deku somehow trapped in Paradiso, covered in scratches and bruises. And it’s up to Bakugou to take him back home.
A World of Enchantment by NightshadeDawn ( G | 721 | 1/1 )
Izuku's been dreaming of a song for many years. He never imagined where it would lead him.
Burn the Witch by sundaechii ( T | 2,233 | 1/1 )
A week after the start of summer break, the Bakugou’s got a new neighbor.
Dreaming Awake by butterfly78 ( T | 1,970+ | 1/? )
Bakugou Katsuki is just an arrogant witch trying his best. Dorms aren't conductive to secrecy, but by god he's gonna try. Canon compliant until I stop caring.
Angels and demons
Stick The Landing. by theweakestthing ( T | 7,609 | 2/2 )
Bakugou stared at the now gaping hole in his ceiling, blinked several times before his eyes trailed down to the pile of debris in the middle of the room.
"What the fuck?" Bakugou whispered, brows knitted, "what the fuck!" He yelled, shaking vigorously with rage.
The pile of debris shifted and moved, giving way to something that looked suspiciously like a body. Fluffy green hair appeared from the rubble along with the rest of a very naked man that didn't have a single scratch on their body apart from something on the man's back, it was completely absurd, utterly absolutely completely absurd. The man turned toward him, smiled wide and moved slowly from the debris, ceiling tiles and splintered wood moving around the man's legs and feet.
"Kacchan," the man said, smile wide and kinda scary.
"What?" Bakugou barked, taking a step back, really though what the hell was happening.
I Summoned a Demon 101: an In-comprehensive guide to Corporeal Demon Do's and Don'ts by EAter ( E | 96,150+ | 36/? )
Midoriya Izuku was born with a quirk: the ability to summon and bind demons from an alternate plane to do his bidding. With only a few days left until the UA entrance exam and still no offensive-type demons in his arsenal, Izuku makes a desperate venture at summoning one corporeal, a feat he had never before attempted. He'd say it was a success- but he doesn't actually know if it'll be more a help or a hindrance. Especially since Bakugou Katsuki is, well, kind of a shit.
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence | Underage | Panic Attacks | Dissociation | Mentions of Rape | Mentions of Child Abuse ]
One of You by LucianPrompto ( T | 2,658+ | 3/? )
When you hear the word “special” or “unique” what is the first thing you think of?
Some might say themselves, the place they live or the people around them, or even something like the weather that day.
In another world, Midoriya Izuku desired to be this above all else. To be able to be a well-loved hero with a cool quirk to protect everyone with. But in this world, he wished nothing but to be like the other, hidden, unknown, quirkless.
In this world, Midoriya Izuku is what many people would consider “Unique”. You see Izuku had a secret. While he had the power to protect, he would not have anyone to protect being the monster he is.
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence ]
Bound to You by Magefeathers“ ( T | 5,751 | 1/1 )
There were a few moments of nothing but the static, and Izuku feared that maybe the demon had disconnected after all. But then the voice spoke again, and this time it was flat, listless, without any of the anger and fire Izuku had come to expect from it.
I exist to destroy you, Midoriya Izuku,” he repeated. When he continued his voice was bitter, and almost sad. “I’m bound to you. I am going to steal your breath from you, because that’s the only way for me to be free. Sooner or later, one way or another, I will destroy you.”
[hiatus] 7 Sins by kacchansass ( E | 5,704+ | 1/7 )
Izuku gets invited to a party where he knows his childhood crush and on-again off-again friend would be. He wants to repair their friendship—but before he can get anywhere with Katsuki, some kids from a rival school crash the party. Katsuki, being the leader he is, confronts them outside.
Hours pass, and Katsuki still hasn't returned.
AKA the Jennifer's Body AU nobody asked for.
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence ]
Icarus by BrightEyesEren ( M | 44,694+ | 5/9 )
“Young man, let me tell you the story of an angel born without wings.”
What's the difference between an angel with wings and an angel without them? Between sin and enjoyment? Between living a life of purity and a life of freedom?
Izuku summons a demon by the name of Katsuki to find out.
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence ]
Vertigo by warschach ( M | 34,142+ | 5/11 )
“Guardian—you’re an angel? My angel?”
Whoa.
That was offensive as hell coming from a unicorn working an afternoon shift at a coffee shop. At least he didn’t have a damn horn protruding out from his damn skull. Not that Katsuki judged supes on their appearance—magic could do only so much and it took a once massive creature and condensed it into a human suit so some things were bound to be uneven—but this guy, his guard until someone or something decided to do Katsuki a solid and off Izuku, called him out.
(or Katsuki is an unwilling guardian angel, Izuku is his unwilling guard, trouble happens, and maybe they fall in love)
Fight for the fall by Ereri_Garbage ( T | 1,205 | 1/1 )
Angels probably had a worse fate than demons. When an angel aged 16 years they were returned to the heavens to be tested by god and to see if they were fit to live amongst the clouds with the strongest warriors or doomed to live a life on earth, fallen.
The World Is Silent (we are loud) by RedHeadsRock1010 ( T | 77150+ | 17/? )
There is only one Angel and one Demon at a time – born each generation after the previous one dies and destined to keep the balance of the world in a vicious battle of good verses evil until the end of existence.
The current Demon stared at the Angel humming and weaving pink flowers into his own bright green curls. A crown of red roses already sat on the Demon's head.
Yeah, fuck that bullshit.
love black as sin by clairesail ( E | 7,394 | 1/1 )
Kacchan has always been something ethereal to him. Magnificent, beautiful. Someone Midoriya's own mortal hands were not worthy of touching. Little did he know how right that feeling had been.
Only, not in the way he expected.
Fuel for the Fire by EclecticIsMyMiddleName ( E | 12,630+ | 1/13 )
Hell is full of demons, and Bakugo Katsuki is one the most infamous (or should we say, "popular"?). His job is to give the demon fuckers what they want in exchange for their souls. Sure, he enjoys the "perks" of his job as an incubus, but he's never felt anything for his victims.
Until now.
Alternatively Titled: "Izuku Accidentally Summons an Incubus and Learns About Demon Anatomy"
[ Major Character Death ]
Lucky for Me by Daiako (Achrya) ( E | 4,837 | 2/2 )
Izuku, Katsuki's summoned succubus, takes an attack meant for him. Katsuki decides to deal with an unwanted rush of emotion in the only way that makes sense between them.
Kinktober, prompts are wings and rimming.
Broken Horns & Fragile Wings by zuccin ( G | 1,682 | 1/1 )
When Izuku was a child, he met an angel. An adorable angel that lived next door, Bakugou Katsuki. Years passed and Midoriya (or Deku) is sure his angel got even cuter by the time; he's glad they are together.
// In an universe where Angels and Demons live peacefully together, a green haired demon falls in love with an angel.
Broken Angel by Atinyhamster ( M | 56,549| 24/24 )
With his mentor sick and dying, Izuku is left with no choice but to make a deal with a demon. Unknowingly he sets off a chain reaction, starting with a price far greater than he ever imagined. But hell is nothing like he thought and he is left questioning everything he has ever learned before.
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence | Implied/Reference Self-Harm ]
Soft Wings by actualdevil ( T | 1,533 | 1/1 )
As someone already prone to accidents, it was no surprise when Deku took a bad fall during track practice.
(Or, a quirkless AU where everyone has wings for no reason)
"Small, but Pretty and Shit" by SugarRose22 ( G | 3,179 | 1/1 )
Izuku's quite insecure about his wings, but someone he knows actually thinks very differently about them than you would have guessed.
Katsuki is up front with his feelings, as he always is.
The wingfic no one asked for but I'm writing it anyways.
Angel and Stranger by ColourlessZero ( E | 6,478 | 1/1 )
The warrior angel, Bakugou Katsuki, is sent to the mortal realm to slay the demon prince. His travels lead him to ancient ruins in a barren desert and the bright-eyed mortal named Izuku. Desparate to rid himself of the emobodiment of annoyance, Bakugou agrees to teach Izuku a song. The only problem, Izuku is a terrible singer and Bakugou is losing patience fast.
Will he be able to get Izuku to leave before the demon prince's arrival?
Saving You by TarynToffee ( M | 13,089+ | 3/? )
Angels weren't supposed to exist, so what does it mean when Izuku meets a crimson-eyed angel with an explosive personality in his bedroom who says he's there to save him and his life suddenly shifts and not for the better?
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence ]
Saudade by zuccin ( G | 1,972 | 1/1 )
When a plague that only affects demons reaches the north, Katsuki is called to help control it with his healing abilities. The demon Midoriya can understand why, but still, he still misses his angel.
Just three weeks, just three weeks and he'll see his angel, Katsuki, again.
'Twas You Who Wounded the Pure by WhenJoshIsJoseph ( T | 1,381 | 1/? )
When Bakugou Katsuki and Midoriya Izuku, two firefighters, die saving people in a fire, they arrive in the afterlife and are assigned to Heaven and Hell - but it doesn't work the way everyone expects it to. A mix up in the records proclaims Bakugou an angel and Midoriya demon...
...Only, it was meant to be the other way around.
Now, Bakugou must race against time and prevent Midoriya from becoming a full fledged demon if he's ever to save him, and in order to that, he needs to find out what Midoriya held against him when he was alive.
Feelings were never meant to come into it.
___
Or, Bakugou is the awkward angel, and Midoriya is surprisngly good at being demonic.
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence ]
Tainted Love by FireFoxFireFlies ( E | 2,416 | 1/1 )
Izuku falls for a fellow angel and is cast out of heaven for this crime. He soon finds himself in the arms of a demon who "consoles" him.
[ Major Character Death | Implied/Referenced Suicide ]
Zombies
365 Days Without Incident by The Emerald Eyed Boy (MissingOneEye) ( Not Rated | 18,703+ | 18/? )
On October 29th, last year, Izuku Midoriya was killed in a car accident.
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence | Major Character Death ]
Love That's Left Behind by ploThief ( T | 1,439 | 1/1 )
The trio flinch when they hear the tale-tell guttural moan of hungry zombies. Two new zombies have heard the commotion. One looks savage, face twisted forever in an angry scowl. The other is plainer, moving with a slight limp. The two are bloodied and dirty, but in much better condition than most zombies they cross. Newly turned, Ochaco’s mind supplies. It leaves a bitter taste in her mouth.
[ Major Character Death ]
Footprints in a Reddened Sky by Hollowed_Soul ( T | 6,577+ | 4/? )
Izuku Midoriya is quirkless, he moved towns due to excessive bullying at previous schools. Izuku has never met Bakugou nor All Might and Bakugou is in UA along with the others. It seems pretty normal. Except it's a zombie apocalypse and Midoriya has been turned to one of them.
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence ]
breathe ( E | 2,336 | 1/3 )
For most, the zombie apocalypse was something they had started out with. For others, they were born in it. Izuku Midoriya was the unlucky one out of many to be born inside of one.
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence | Major Character Death ]
Yokai/Spirits/Kitsune
Hearts of Men and Yokai by GreyDayMoon ( M | 53,598 | 27/? )
Katsuki was relaxing in the forest simply enjoying his peaceful world when a small six year old green haired incarnation of trouble came across him. Even worse, the kid seemed to be able to see yokai. Now fully annoyed but also intrigued, watch Katsuki interact with the child.
OR: An AU inspired by Natsume and the Book of Friends and Kamisama Kiss
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence ]
Nagas/Dragons
In the Eye of the Storm by CheshireButton ( M | 122,611+ | 13/? )
Izuku Midoriya is a scientific prodigy seeking a cure for a rapidly spreading neurodegenerative disease. A potential clue in his research points to a fabled island, guarded by an eternal storm from which no travelers have ever returned. He navigates through the hurricane and discovers an island that is anything but uninhabited. He must adapt to survive against the natives who place intruders in three categories: warriors, mates, or meat.
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence ]
The Offering by Bakuholic ( T | 7,032+ | 4/? )
Every year, an offering is given to the dragon race as a trade off for the dragons' protection. This year, Izuku Midoriya is the human offering.
He trembles at the very thought of his death being by the claws of a dragon. However, his expectations of his future seem to turn when an ash blonde alpha dragon begins to grow fond of him and adds him to his hoard of treasure.
(I"m not good at summaries it seems)
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence ]
Deku's Dumb Dragon by Lochan10 ( M | 9056+ | 4/? )
Midoriya meets a dragon at the age of 4, and ends of being best friends with the dragon for years. But one day Midoriyas Royal friend, Prince Todorki, Uraraka, and Knight Iida come across Midoriya and the dragon they have heard about but never met per Midoriyas request only to realize it was the Barbarian Dragon King their friend had been friends with for years.
And Midoriya didn't even know himself that he's best friend with a king. The Barbarian Dragon King himself no less. So what happens when he realizes the truth?
A fluffy story of Bakugou secretly pinning after Midoriya for years only to finally do something about it when his identity is revealed by the half and half bastard.
This is Yuuei by Logsnake ( T | 24,509 | 13/13 )
This is Yuuei. We have hunting, fishing, and a charming view of the sunsets. The only problem are the pests. You see, while most places have mice or mosquitos, we have… dragons.
(Or the first How to Train Your Dragon but with Izuku as Hiccup and Katsuki as Toothless)
Hoarding Treasure by Swifty_Heart ( M | 10,234+ | 2/? )
Humans are becoming extinct, plan and simple, no one knows why but fifty years ago the sky and earth suddenly opened and dragons appeared soaring the sky and climbing out of the ground, they will come in a scoop up a single random human and then take off, they won't destroy anything or take anything else just one single human and leave...its lead to a strange sort of peace.
Strange Encounters by kacchansass ( E | 3,273 | 1/1 )
Midoriya Izuku is the General of his people, the dragon shifters known as the Ryuujin. His main task as an alpha warrior is to safeguard his people. Bakugou Katsuki is an explorer set out with the great task of gathering knowledge about people that are scorned from the rest of the mainland.
Two worlds collide, for better or worse.
[ Rape/Non-Con ]
Walking in the night sky by Daiako (Achrya) ( M | 5,414+ | 3/? )
Bakugou is your typical mildmannered dragon shifter and biker, turned out from his own world and forced to live in the human one. Nothing special about him at all. He's content to move from backwater town to backwater town, keeping to himself, and making no attachments. At least, he was until he met Izuku, a waiter too cute for his own good, in a strange town that refuses to let him leave...
Mixed Supernatural Elements
Hard to Say by halcyonwhispers ( T | 8,390+ | 2/? )
Izuku is a Halfling, born after his faerie father spirited away his mom and then left her behind. Never quite fitting in with the humans or any of the supernatural beings in his small town, Izuku hoped that going to a diverse college in the big city will help him finally make friends.
Katsuki’s family has been powerful witches for generations, and he’s no different. Talented and a proclaimed genius to boot, he knew he shouldn’t waste his time on this dumbass (disgustingly cute) half-blood.
Or,
two idiots fall in love and don’t get that the other’s awkward cues are just a result of romantic tension.
Sick Like Animals by osakakitty ( E | 3,848 | 1/1 )
Whenever Katsuki Bakugo is struck by his seasonal heat, Izuku Midoriya agrees to help him until it ends. He takes Bakugo into his care, providing him with the stimulation he needs. One morning, after a night of light sex, Bakugounfortunately finds his heat unquenched.
Fantasy AU in which Katsuki Bakugo is half-beast, and Izuku Midoriya is an alchemist in-training. They both have a mutual understanding and need and for each other. Sex ensues.
Lucky for you by Daiako (Achrya) ( E | 3,603 | 1/1 )
Katsuki is a summoner, a damn good one. Which makes accidently calling forth a timid Incubus and ending up bonded to him all the more infuriating. It only gets worse when he realizes he can feel the demons emotions and that it's is very very hungry. The only way to quiet the bond is satisfy the demon’s needs and complete the spell.
For Kinktober, prompts are incubus and bonds
The Bonds that Bind Us by DMMegsie ( E | 44,568+ | 7/? )
Travelling with his trading caravan, Izuku is on his way home when they stumble across an already heated battle in the middle of an open field in the dead of night. Being mistaken as part of attacking party, Izuku finds himself fighting off the fabled Demon King of the Mountains of Fire.
However, during the battle, Izuku breaks a necklace on the Demon King that held an unspoken promise from his mother from long ago, which changes everything.
Nothing ever as it seems, nor is it simple. As an omega of elven descent, Izuku has a lot to learn about the greater world and himself. The same could be said of the half dragon lord of the mountain.
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence | Rape/Non-Con ]
all gifted by fitzefitcher ( T | 9,129+ |  4/?)
The thing about gifts is that they're meant to be given, they're meant to be shared; so Izuku will take his gifts, so freely given to him, and share them with all he holds dear.
Izuku is born without any gifts, as his kind often are, to a witch mother and salamander father, on one sweltering night in July.
[ Abuse | Bullying | Graphic Depictions of Violence ]
The Arsonist vs The Tree by Annoying_Tourist ( M | 2,979+ | 1/? )
The great dragon Katsuki had spent the past few centuries cultivating his reputation as the fearless ‘Beast of the Western Lands’. Everywhere he goes, he leaves a trail of fire and ash in his wake. But soon his life of treasure hoarding and raiding villages doesn’t seem as fulfilling as it used to be. Was it time for him to settle down, make himself a permanent home and start living a more peaceful and humble life?
Naturally, Katsuki decided that the ‘next step’ in his life was to build himself a grand temple next to Musutafu, the biggest village in the Western Lands. The humans would learn to worship him eventually.
The tree spirit Izuku- an actual deity and self-proclaimed protector of Musutafu- takes issue with this.
Reparations by Merrywetherweather ( M | 37,459+ | 15/? )
When Izuku was a child, he was told to never enter the woods. But being in possession of the shortest attention span a four year old is capable of, he ignores his mother's warnings and stumbles after a very pretty butterfly. What he finds, instead, is a friend. His first and only friend.
Izuku is in his twenties now and he no longer runs to meet with the childhood friend who pushed him away so long ago. His mother and their village are on edge because he's way past his presenting years and he still hasn't had his first heat. He's defective. An omega who can't present can't find a mate or have kids, not like he's ever been inclined to find someone or have children. After leaving the confines of his small minded human village and wandering out into the woods once again, in search of a better life, that all changes when he runs into the one person he hoped to meet but never thought he'd see again.
Bonds Don't Break by DeKatsu ( T | 1,360 | 1/1 )
Katsuki catches an unfamiliar scent in his territory and decides to hunt it down. He doesn't expect to find Deku at the end of the trail.
You, who didn't listen by Preintice  ( E | 7,601+ | 1/4 )
Time always was a blurry conception made by humans. It implied a race against time. It implied choices and pressure. However for those whose Time had no impact on, it felt like languorous torture. Where you try to find an objective of your own, either be it dying or playing, but grow quickly bored from it.
Katsuki (to become Bakugo) was in search for recognition, power and chaos.
Deku (to become Izuku Midoriya) was in search for redemption, acceptance and comprehension.
And together, they fell.
[ Graphic depictions of violence | Major Character Death ]
Belonging by MochiUs ( M | 2,525+ | 1/3 )
A ghost and a werewolf. An unlikely pair. They were on the search for the answer to their problems, but they gained something more along the way.
[Graphic Depictions Of Violence]
An Old Church Ground by KingHugin ( Not rated | 6,526 | 1/1)
Ever heard the legend of the Grim?
They say it’s a large black dog, an omen of death. That if you’re unfortunate enough to ever catch a glimpse of one. Then well… you never really live to tell the tale.
That’s only one of the legends and not the one of this story, though I guess it still ends in death.
 Or a story where Katsuki is the Grim of an old church ground, and Izuku is… well he’s something else.
[ Major Character Death ]
An Unlikely Pair by bkdkwritingsdump ( T | 1,751 | 1/1 )
Katsuki is a fire wizard stuck with a life-magic familiar whom he thinks is utterly useless to him. During a battle with a particularly nasty demon, though, Izuku might just prove his worth.
The Monster That Stole My Heart by Merrywetherweather ( T | 4,855 | 1/1 )
Katsuki's been stalking this specter for the past week as it's been infringing on his territory. After finally engaging with it, he learns that Deku's been squatting in the graveyard for almost a month.
Katsuki makes it his business to help this ghost move on and get gone. Deku and him will need the help of Uraraka, the witch, and the vampire, Todoroki, if they want to try and fix whatever made Deku a mostly incorporeal spirit.
A little oneshot I thought up and wrote for Halloween.
Werewolf in The Witch's Forest by Unoutan ( T | 6,035 | 1/1 )
The sky is blue, the air is chilly and the leaves are falling all around the forest, but a wolf with pale fur is close to death at Izuku's feet...and the witch-in-training, collecting his herbs alone amongst the trees, is the only one who can help.
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence ]
Day of the Dead by JunNoAce ( E | 10,676 | 1/1 )
There was no worse feeling than believing that you were to weak to protect the person you held most precious to you and living out your life without them.
Imagine Bakugou Katsuki's shock when he finds his Deku again half a century after his murder jumping into his arms.
.... It's a romantic tragedy with porn. Lol!
[ Graphic Depictions of Violence | Major Character Death ]
Puppy Love by kacchansass ( G | 3,286 | 1/1 )
Bakugou Katsuki has a crush on the idiot spirit Midoriya Izuku he's soulbound to protect. He thought that his trial to become a full fledged Guardian Werewolf was the hardest thing he'd ever faced, but he may have spoken too soon.
Series Part 2 of Bound Together
Heart Keeper by Quirkyasfok ( Not Rated | 1,078 | 1/1 )
Katsuki had never considered being a Heart Keeper as part of his future, but then again, he also never thought Izuku Midoriya of all people would kill himself.
[ Implied/Referenced Suicide ]
Kaleidoscope by Disney_Princess_Izuku ( T | 5,141 | 1/1 )
Izuku is a witch. He just needs to find his familiar. Enter a boy that is a wolf, and a wolf that is a boy - with wild red eyes and sharp smiles.
And Izuku thinks:
"Oh, it's him."
Smoke and Mirrors by Daiako (Achrya) ( M | 5,160+ | 2/? )
Hundreds of years ago All Might, the last of the once great Celestial race, used his divine sword and all his power to seal the necromancer known as Father, and all his undead minions, in Unchanging Deadlands. Peace followed and All Might, and his broken sword, faded into legend.
But all peace eventually ends and, as undead hoards and monsters of nightmare crawl forth from the barren islands to the south, a group sets out from the north in search of the broken sword to once again seal the threats away. Lead by Demon Prince Todoroki and Dragon Prince Bakugou they’re the best their people have to offer, ready to lay down their lives to stem the tide of darkness.
And then there is Izuku, a mild mannered apothecary, devoid of magic, who has never learned not to touch whispering objects of power.
[ Major Character Death | Graphic Depictions of Violence ]
torn fur, blunt teeth by SageMasterofSass ( E | 29,816 | 11/15 )
After eight months of being collared, Izuku is finally free. But a dark, stormy city is no place for a lonely shapeshifter on the run.
[ Past Rape/Noncon ]
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writeforyoon · 4 years
Text
through the mirror | part two
Title: Through the Mirror
Part: 01 | 02
Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Slightly Sci-fi-ish
Pairing: Yoongi & Freya (Original Character)
Tags: Fluff, Slightly Angst, Magical
Summary: A young woman in her early 20’s rents out an old apartment unit left by an old woman who passed away a year ago. She finds a strange mirror plastered on the wall that brings something out of the ordinary.
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PART II | the ghost from the mirror
It has been two days. The storm had already passed and the sun is already visiting the once bedroom of Freya, making the room glow in golden. Her job does not start until next week so she took all the time to herself to fix her unit, put things in order, and made some time to pay the owner a visit to ask about the previous tenant— whom she grew so curious about since the unordinary encounter with the ghost from the mirror. Freya etched it in her brain that what happened that Thursday morning was not a dream. It really happened and she most definitely arrived to a conclusion that her unit is actually haunted with the ghost from the mirror. Ever since then, she had transferred her bedroom to the other room near the kitchen. The room has been turned into her office. To avoid seeing the ghost again, she, too, has covered the mirror with a cloth. It makes her feel safe when she comes in to look into some of her papers.
Of course, Freya had tried a couple of times ringing her friends, asking for help in finding her another apartment that’s just minutes away from her workplace— but to no avail, all the apartments in the city is cramped up and full. She has no choice but to stay.
“It creeps me out to be honest.” Freya is following the owner around as he waters his various plants in his garden on the rooftop of the building. “I mean, why haven’t you even told me that the previous owner died? That’s false advertising, you know.”
“How am I suppose to sell my units if that’s the first thing I put on an online post?” The owner, Mr. Jeon, stops what he’s doing to face the adamant Freya.
“Unit available! But hold on, the previous tenant died! 50% discount due to this on your first three months! What are you waiting for?” Mr. Jeon throws his hands up and mocks the poor girl. It leaves a grumpy Freya, staring at him, displeased.
Mr. Jeon erupts in fits of laughter, making fun of Freya, his tenant. Should he really be laughing right now? Freya couldn’t help but question Mr. Jeon’s understanding of the matter. She angrily sips into her coffee, ignoring the forty year old man’s laugh dying down.
“You shouldn’t really be scared, Freya.” The man is now back, stable, but still a goofy smile is written on his lips. He continues hosing the plants with water. Freya observed how the landlord loves his plants so much. It’s the first thing he does in the morning, he goes upstairs at around 7 o’clock to check on his plants. He was so worried the past couple of days. He couldn’t sleep thinking about the storm and how it might have destroyed his poor plants. Freya helped him yesterday to clean up the mess. Some roots were yanked out of their pots, leaving Mr. Jeon swearing towards the passing storm.
“Miss Tammy was sent to a residence for the aged and expired there.” He pauses and looks at Freya, seeing that she’s quiet and intent in listening, he continued. “She left this place six months before she died so the unit is unoccupied for about a year and a half.”
“No one wanted the unit for that time being. As if the unit itself is driving the people away. They couldn’t last a minute inside and just run out of the door, leaving me baffled. But nothing is wrong. I go inside and it’s just fine. I believed it’s the mirror. It has a dark aura in it. I tried many times to remove it myself despite my promise towards Miss Tammy. I needed more money to support my son in looking for a job at an airline. It’s antique and I was desperate. But it just wouldn’t budge.” Mr. Jeon reaches for the faucet nearby and turns it to stop the water from coming out of the hose. He places it on top of the railing and pushes his right sleeve to reveal a long, deep scar.
Freya gasped. “It’s what the mirror did to me when I tried to remove it.”
“It’s cursed, isn’t it?”
“Many times when I roam around at night to check for stray animals, I could hear Miss Tammy talk. It’s like she’s having a conversation inside— she even laughs— which she rarely do. Miss Tammy wasn’t really bright as a person. She was often serious and misunderstood. But I heard her having gossips with another person inside that unit, and it creeps me out sometimes because I know she’s alone. Nobody visits the old woman.” The man pushes the sleeves back down and brush his hand over his arm twice. “My hairs are standing.” He grins. It makes the hairs on the nape of Freya’s neck stand too.
“I’m not supposed to tell you this, because I might drive you away but you seemed the kind of person who won’t believe what I’m saying.” For a second, Freya found Mr. Jeon as insensitive and a fool. She is scared. She does believe and she is really terrified.
After that, Mr. Jeon didn’t want to talk further about it. He said he’ll continue for another time. He didn’t want to creep Freya out but he couldn’t help his mouth from running. It’s a mistake that he did because as soon as she got back to her unit, Freya started to pack her things.
“Fuck it, I wouldn’t risk another night here.” She whispers to herself as she enters the room with the mirror. Though there is clearly a cloth hanging over the mirror, she doesn’t glance at it, not even once. She straight away goes to the mini bookshelf and start stacking up her books.
“I don’t know where I’m going but it’s better than staying here. This place is a freakshow,” she continues talking to herself as she transfer to her desk, collecting the papers into her arms. “Mr. Jeon would understand.”
“Understand what?”
“He’ll understand that this unit is no longer habitabl—“ her words fade out into  distance after it hit her. Someone talked back to her and it’s definitely not the voice in her head.
Three knocks follow. She falls silent. Standing, frozen, with papers gripped close to her chest. Her muscles tenses.
“Did you put something over the mirror too?” It’s the same guy from the mirror. He’s back. After two days, he’s back to haunt Freya out of the unit.
“I’m leaving!” She whimpers. Her hands scurry away, gathering all the things she can carry in her small hands and arms. It makes her heart beat faster, every second of it, and now beads of sweat are forming on her forehead.
“Why do you sound so scared?” The voice scoffs. “Do you think I’m some kind of a ghost?”
“If you’re not one, then what are you?”
“Has it ever cross your mind that I’m just like you?”
“L-like me?”
“A functional, living, breathing human? I also have a job you know.”
Freya whips her head towards the mirror. A couple of things from her hands drops. “What?” She snaps.
“Would you please remove this?” He knocks twice against the mirror. Freya who is now burning with questions drops the things altogether and approached the mirror with heavy, angry steps. She yanks the cloth away and ends up face to face with the guy with cold, hooded eyes.
Her face reddens from the closeness of their faces. She takes a couple of steps away from the mirror while the guy just leans back, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.
“What did you mean?” Freya asks.
The guy does not answer, instead, he falls silent, observing the room where Freya is standing. He notices it. The changes in the room. For a second, his eyebrows furrow, as if he’s offended by it. Instinctively, Freya moves to cover the part where his eyes are boring.
Unlike Freya’s, the guy’s room is just as the same. Dark curtains coupled with the dark sheets covering his bed. It appears that every color Freya likes, he despises. He has everything of the darker shades of every color. Not one thing resembling the bright palettes the inside of Freya’s closet.
“Hey.” He blinks twice, her voice drags him away from his deep train of thoughts.
“Huh?” Freya just realized he spaced out. She then, ignoring that fact, crosses her arms over her chest.
“You said you’re just like me.”
“I am.”
The woman scowls, unsatisfied with the one word, one sentence reply of the guy. “Couldn’t you be more responsive? You know? Be more sensitive towards me?” Her hands flies up in frustration.
“Why?”
This one word reply brings both her hands against her face, as she screams into it. “I hate this!” Freya storms towards the cloth and picks it up. It’s like that one word was enough to push her to her final decision. Leave the mirror, leave this unit. Get over all this bullshit.
“W-w-wait!” He stutters over a word. His hands are stretched and out, attempting to stop Freya from covering the mirror again. This doesn’t faze Freya. She’s determined and very done. None of this would rattle her anymore, except for the very two words that comes out of his mouth.
“I’m sorry!” Forced but begging, enough for Freya to stop bolting towards the mirror.
“I know you’re way over your head right now.” He runs his hand over his hair, untangling some strands as he does. “But before anything else, I’m Yoongi.” He stretches his hand out in an offer of a stupid, invisible handshake.
Freya’s eyebrows are knitted together. Confused, disturbed, and full of questions, still, she reaches her hand out as well. “I’m Freya.”
Then they seal the loose understanding with an invisible handshake. It’s where it starts. The blossoming of a friendship— or maybe something more—through the mirror.
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changingourdestiny · 5 years
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Fictober Day 22: Drifting Through the Snow
Prompt number: 22. “We could have a chance.”
Fandom (AU if applicable): Destiny (Changing Our Destiny Fan-Series)
Rating: M (Destiny is rated PEGI 16)
Warnings/Tags: Alcohol (nothing serious)
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Stuck in a blizzard in the shadow of Felwinter Peak during the Dark Age, Marcia stumbles across a bar where she takes shelter from the storm.
Base of Felwinter Peak. The Dark Age.
 The wind howled across the snow-covered landscape as specks of white made visibility almost unbearable. Many would try to stay out of such harsh conditions…except for one. A cloaked figure trudged through the blizzard, face protected by only  the hood of her cloak a bandanna and a pair of large goggles. Her brown cloaked flailed about in the wind as they tried to hold it close to their body. A voice rang out in her head, “Marcia, you won’t last much longer out here. We must find shelter soon.”
“Yeah, I know…” Marcia huffed out, trying not to lose her breath in the wind, “But I haven’t seen anywhere to-” She cut herself off as she made out a strange shape through the storm. It seemed to be a building. “Huh…that’ll work. I ain’t picky.” Marcia shrugged as she made her way closer towards the building. Upon getting closer, she could see the building was a bar of sorts. Not wanting to be stuck out in the snow any longer, Marcia quickly entered the bar and shut the door behind her, not wanting to let the snow in.
The bar seemed cosy, but humble. Wooden floors, except for the area around a fireplace which was stone, and cobblestone walls with timber beams holding up the roof. The barman was a man with short black hair, that was partially covered by a green headband around his forehead, a short beard, blue eyes and a bit of scarring on the sides of his face. He wore a green and black gi and what looked to be a piece of jade hanging around his neck with two snakes carved on it. He was currently leaning against the wall behind the counter while tossing a coin, glancing at Marcia as she entered the bar. There were a few people in the bar. Some were sat around wooden tables – a few being passed out – while two or three were sat at the counter on bar stools, sipping their drinks. Marcia noticed most of them were wearing armour and had Ghosts floating beside them. ‘Traveller-huggers…great.’ Marcia groaned in her head. ‘Traveller-huggers’ was the nickname Marcia gave to Risen who worshipped the Traveller and its Light. Though this nickname would become ‘Tower-huggers’ when the City Age began. “Judging by the armour, these guys are Warlords.” Nox spoke, remaining hidden, “Best to avoid them.” A few heads turned towards Marcia upon her entering, but quickly dismissed her before going back to their drinking. Marcia noticed a few hooks on the wall and hung her cloak on one of them along with her goggles. She kept her bandanna on but slid it down, so it was just hanging around her neck and kept her shoulder plates on too. She walked up to the bar and sat on one of the barstools. The barman stopped tossing his coin, putting it on the counter, as he strolled over to Marcia with a smile, “Not every day I see a new face in here. But either way, welcome.”
“This your place then?” Marcia asked. “Yep. Name’s Wu Ming.” He nodded, reaching a hand out in a hand shake. “Marcia Wyverk. But my friends call me Mars.” Marcia smiled, accepting the handshake. “Nice to meet ya, Mars. What can I get you?”
“I’ll have a rum please.”
“Comin’ right up.”
Wu Ming headed over towards a stack of shelves where several bottles were set up. Marcia fiddled with the light amplifier crystal hanging out of her ear as she waited. She would do this out of instinct if she felt the Taken power begin to surge inside her. It would cause the Light in her to stir which helped to balance it out. A Warlord, who was sitting on a barstool on Marcia’s left and was pretty drunk, glanced in her direction. He noticed Marcia’s mark and crystal and glared at her, “I know you.”
“Beg pardon?” Marcia glanced at him with a raised brow.
“I know who you are.”
“Sorry, pal. I don’t believe we met.”
“Don’t play dumb…you’re that monster the other Risen talk ‘bout.”
Some of the Warlords in the bar began to look at Marcia, the same drunken glare in their eyes. “Dunno what you’re talking about.” Marcia shrugged, “If you’re looking for a fight, I don’t wanna damage this fine establishment and I don’t wanna fight in a blizzard-”
*Ker-chick!*
Marcia flinched at the sound as she slowly turned to face the Warlord. He had a gun in hand and the Warlords behind her were reaching for theirs. Wu Ming had turned to watch this conflict, on guard in case it got out of hand. The Warlord glared down at Marcia, “You’re that monster who wields Darkness like it’s a toy. You don’t even deserve to be called a Risen like the rest of us.” Marcia glared back, a fierce look in her eyes, “You seem to know me. But if you really do, you’ll think about what you’re about to do for a second, see it’s a bad idea, and back off.”
“Marcia, this is a bad idea.” Nox advised from in Marcia’s head, “The door isn’t guarded. If we book it now, we could have a chance.” Marcia ignored Nox and stood up from her stool, “You have ten seconds to change your mind…one…two…”
The Warlords took a step towards her. Marcia sighed and removed the crystal from her ear along with her left glove, her glaring expression turning into a malicious smirk.
 “…Ţ̵̹͖̤̜̮̦̹̣̱͋ͤ̍̏̾̋̓̂ͣͩͮ̌ͩ̏͛̉̅ͧ͟ ̛̈ͭ̂ͨ̾͌̇͐ͭͥͫ̅ͥ͒̌̈̓͏̧̞̻̖̖̪̤̜̯͚̱̙͈͚̕Ęͤ́̌̽͊͆͏̧̖̮̝̫̘̯͓̟̲͉̙͚͇̺́ͅ ̶̊̇̍̓ͪͪͣ̒͏̯͖̭͕̞̤͎̟͍̖̺͖̬̝̭N̵͉̻̥͙͍̘̲͕̖̖̫̗̯͙̙̬̬̹̖̅̈̅ͫͦ̐ͩ͊̈́̓̓͜͠ ̷̙͍͉̖̝̭͓̙̗͉͍̱̝̥̣ͪ͂̇̇̓̅̋̒ͪ͑̎̋͐̂͒ͩ̀́̚͢͠!̛̿́ͨ͌̂ͥ͏̥͎̥̥͘”
  Marcia’s voice became distorted as the entire left side of her body was engulfed in dark greenish-teal and her markings and eye glowed bright white. Taken blight appeared on the floor as three Taken Wizards shot up through it into the bar.
“Ş̷̢̬̱̺̱̳̹̖̹̜͓̮̳͉̺͇͚̹̰̿͋̓ͯ͆ͫͤ̃ͫ̈́ͬ͒͋̎ͬ́̌̓͜H̢̖̻̯̠̳̜̖̣̣̱͙̮̯̿͛̊̎̄ͫ̈́ͭ̈́ͣͭ́͂̀͘͜ͅO͈̠̯̘͍̻̺̹̰̲̤ͣͨ̄̇͂̃ͧͫ̓ͪ̒̈̈ͥ̌̀͞͝ͅW̷͙͚̘̤͖̬͖͓̫̜̰̾ͬ̏ͭ̽̈ͯ̏̀ͤͨ̾̚͢ ͖͍̝̜͚̼̜̤́͗̓̋͋̈́͘͜Ǫ̶̷̢͗̀́̊̒̎̊͛̍̌̉̄̽ͪ̇ͯ͗͏͙̜̮̥̙̗̱̪̫̪͚ͅͅȔ̶̮̟͙̫̘̻̺̱͍͇̼͉͉͔͔͓ͧ̈͆̐͆͌R̸̶̩̯̟̦͚̙̱̖͓̪̯̟̰̭̪̹̾̿̓͂͆͒̿͢͟ͅ ̧̢̜͉̣͈̹̹͈͉̬̳̰̹̱̝͙̔̉͌ͣͭͬͮ͗ͤ̎ͩ̈́ͥ͢ͅF͎̟̮͖̗̬̹̪̗̥̽ͣ̌͊͒̋̄ͩ̒ͧ́͡Ŗ͍͚̳̬̤̮͈͈̜̰̭̻̖̣̘́̐̄̒ͣͭ̑ͧ͛ͥ̂ͣͯ̋̚͢͜ͅI̿ͣ͐͆ͭ̑͗ͣ͏̷̴̛̫̝͔͙E̐͊̆̎̔ͦ̈́ͥ̔̎ͧ͛̓ͬ̑̾̔͘͏̨̳͖̣̙͘ͅN̶̜͖̰͔̿́̉ͤ̈̋̂͒̒ͧ̃̍̿̍̿͞͝Ḑ̫̹͉̘̭͙̼̩̰̮͎͋̆̇̋̅͆̈́̀Ş̛̬̥̜̥̲̟̿̐̓͗̽͑ͣͫͨͩ̕̕ ̷̼̠̜̤̻͔̹̙̟̻͇̥̣̀ͭͩͯ̒͊̾ͣͨ͆̐̃̊̒͂ͭ̓ͭ̚͘͜ͅͅT̸̽͐̍͑͂̀͐͏̹̠̗͖H̶̷̷̳̜̻̰̥̞͈̟̹̏͂͑ͮ͢͟Ḝ̶̟̘͕̘̪̰̭̺̊͂̿̆͗̎̓̊̂̑̊̌͊̎̐̀ͭ̚͞͠͠ ̧̡̡̧̯̠̫̫̥͍̥͎̪̭̪͚̗̭̗̟̖̑̒̓̀̐̅͑̂̇ͅͅD̶̷̩̦̱̤̘̘͈̥̣̬̩ͩ̋ͨ̍͂͒͛̆̐͛̆ͥͩ̚͢͜ͅO̧͋̄̉̚͢҉͙͕̣̭͉̲̩̺̺̙͈͖ͅO̹̺̙̝͈̙̦͖̯̭̳͓͍͈̱̗̰͓ͮ́ͤ̕͜R̶͕̮̝͈̭͓̘͗ͫ̈͌ͮͮ͘ͅ!̨̪͖̟̮͇͉̻͈̦̞̫̓ͫ̄ͧͤ́ͫͣͮ͆̿͂͘͜” Marcia commanded. 
The Taken Wizards to chase the Warlords out of the bar. A man, who was previously passed out on a table, woke up and saw the Warlords run screaming out of the bar followed by the Taken. He stared at the wine bottle in his hand and muttered, “What the hell is in this stuff…?” before passing out again. Marcia sighed in exhaustion as she placed her glove back on her hand and her crystal back in her ear. She turned to Wu Ming, “Sorry about chasing away your customers. I was trying to avoid a fight.”
“Ha! You kiddin’?” Wu Ming laughed, “That was the best entertainment I’ve had since I opened this place.”
Marcia was surprised at first before smiling. This was the first time someone wasn’t terrified of her ability. The two talked over drinks – Wu Ming making them on the house – and discovered they were both Risen who were untrusting of the Traveller.
And that was the beginning of the countless times these two rogue Lightbearers would encounter each other.
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justakpopfic · 5 years
Text
Unexpected encounter
Summary: Taeyong has an unexpected encounter one night in the woods.
Genre: Fluffly horror? (Ghost!Jisung au with Taeyong)
(Authors note: This isn’t a ship pairing. I don’t really do ships. But I hope you enjoy!)
(Gif is not mine, credit @ owner)
Masterlist
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“You lost Taeyong!” Yuta threw his arm around Taeyong while laughing. Taeyong stared at the ground in embarrassment. Taeyong and his friends were hanging out at his place, and decided to play what Johnny liked to call “extreme truth or dare.”
The rules were simple. Choose truth or dare. Then someone makes you do a simple challenge, like an arm wrestle, to see if you get out of it.
Well, Taeyong sure didn’t get out of his dare. It wouldn’t be so bad. Unless Yuta came up with the punishment. Unfortunately, Yuta did.
“Let’s see....” Yuta rubbed his chin, deciding on the dare. Taeyongs friends watched eagerly to see what Yuta would make Taeyong do.
“Make him climb up the roof!” Donghyuck suggested.
“No, we should make him prank call someone,” Jaehyun said.
“But we already did that dare for Doyoung!” Mark added.
All of their comments made Taeyong even more nervous. He bit his lip as Yuta silently contemplated Taeyongs fate. Why did you have to choose dare, Taeyong? Why? Taeyong made a mental note to never let anyone suggest this game ever again, no matter how entertaining it can be.
After what felt like a century, Yuta smiled. It wasn’t his usual healing smile, but a mischievous smirk. Taeyong knew.
He was screwed.
“Taeyong,” Yuta said finally. “I dare you to go into the woods.” Yuta paused, obviously enjoying the tension he created for everyone. He took a deep breath and said,
“And stay there for an hour.”
The room erupted in loud yelling from the boys. Taeyong stayed standing as he tried to comprehend what Yuta said. Stay in the forest? For an hour? Taeyong lived right in front of large forest that connected to the park nearby. Sure, he’d been in that forest multiple times.
But not at 11:43pm. For 60 minutes.
“I can’t do it,” Taeyong finally said. The room fell silent so quickly it could almost be funny. Except it wasn’t.
“Why not?” Yuta said.
“Are you scared?” Doyoung teased.
“No!” Taeyong said almost too quickly. He could feel his face heat up.
“Then I don’t see a problem,” Doyoung said as he lied down on the couch.
“Yeah, it’ll be fine. They’re aren’t any bears in the woods,” Mark said.
“I heard rumours of a ghost haunting the place,” Taeil said almost too causally. Taeyong wished Taeil hadn’t said that. Yutas and Donghyucks faces both lit up like two kid at Disney world.
“Now you have to do it!” Yuta said. Curse Taeil and his big mouth. Now Taeyong had no chance of getting out of this. Why did he have to choose dare?
“What about-what about the bugs?” Taeyong asked, desperate.
“We’ll be waiting for you with calamine lotion,” Jaehyun said. Yuta grabbed Taeyongs arm and dragged him to his back door.
“Wait! At least give me a sweater!” Taeyong said. He didn’t know what he was saying. Just as long as it delayed his fate. Johnny took off his hoodie and threw at Taeyong. It landed on Taeyongs head.
“Do you have your phone?” Yuta asked as Taeyong slowly put on Johnnys hoodie.
Taeyong nodded hopelessly, putting on his oversized hood.
“Then off you go!” Yuta opened the sliding door and shoved Taeyong outside. Taeyong almost fell onto his patio. After he regained his balance, he looked back to his friends.
Yuta and the others were all waving and smiling like a mother to her child. Yuta held his phone in his hand, showing Taeyong the time.
11:50pm. Ten minutes to midnight. Taeyong forced a smile, before turning around to enter the forest.
There was a path that Taeyong normally followed in the day time that led to the park. Taeyong stuck to this path like glue, not wanting to get lost. Then again, he’s been in this forest since he was a kid. He could recognize the thick oak trees and low hanging willows in the dark. As he continued down the path, crickets chirped in the distance.
Taeyong stopped walking. He looked around. If it weren’t for the chirping and the occasional bird, he would’ve been all alone. The full moon casted a soft light that Taeyong was secretly grateful for. The sky and trees stayed still, like they were trapped in time. Pitch black.
Taeyong didn’t like the dark, but the forest at night was strangely, comforting. That’s when Taeyong realized he wasn’t scared. His friends were right. The forest wasn’t scary. It stayed the same forest in the day and at night.
Taeyong continued walking down the path. He knew he would end up in the park and was planning to just hang around there before heading back. Maybe he would even run back. Then Yuta and the others would see him out of breath. Taeyong would then talk about how scared he was, and Johnny would hug him while scolding Yuta for making such an awful dare.
Taeyong smiled to himself at the thought of Johnny scolding Yuta and siding with him. He continued walking in silence.
Then a sudden chill flew past him. Taeyong stopped. When did it get so cold? The cold nipped at Taeyong even in Johnnys warm hoodie. Taeyong looked up. The silhouettes of the trees trashed back and forth. The wind blew in Taeyongs bangs, chilling his face in the process. Taeyong took out his phone, shivering. 12:20am. He still had 30 minutes left in his dare. He scoffed and shoved his phone back in pocket. Taeyong wasn’t about to let a little wind beat him.
Another chill went past Taeyong. Only this time it didn’t feel like wind. It felt like a hand.
Taeyong snapped his head back so fast, his neck hurt. Behind him laid a dead black pathway. Taeyong then looked up. The cloud covered the white moon, Taeyongs only light source. Well not his only light source. Taeyong could very easily use his flashlight on his phone, but he wasn’t about to waste his batteries on the moon being unavailable. He could handle a little darkness.
Taeyong continued to walk, before hearing rustling. He stopped. What was that? He heard more rustling. Taeyongs heartbeat became quicker. More rustling. Taeyongs first instinct was to run. Once he turned around he realized that his time wasn’t up yet. No. There was no way Taeyong was running back to the house before his time was up. Just the thought of Donghyucks taunting and Doyoungs smug smirk caused Taeyong to stand still.
It’s probably just an animal. Right?
Taeyong turned around to see nothing. Nothing but the dark trees and bushes. Another bush rustled in the silence. It was only a bit louder than before, but the sound seemed to boom through the woods. Taeyong was sweating under his hoodie. It’s just an animal. It’s just an animal. It’s just an animal. It’s just an animal.
Taeyong heard another rustle. For a split second, Taeyong saw something white. Was it a foot? Was it a hand? Who knows, but at least Taeyong knew that it must be a person. There was a dead silence that hung in the trees. Taeyong knew that someone was still there, hidden in the bushes.
“Who are you?” Taeyong asked to the darkness. He immediately mentally kicked himself. What are you doing? Are you asking to be killed? The silence still hung over Taeyong and his night visitor. Then, he heard another rustle in the bushes.
“Don’t try to leave,” Taeyong said as bravely as possible. Shut up Taeyong! Shut up! For a long while, nothing happened. Taeyong almost decided to head back. To go back to the house no matter how much time there was left. Suffering through his friends teasing was better than getting killed, right? Taeyong saw another white figure. He swore it looked like a hand. There was something there!
“Come out!” Taeyong shouted. Lee. Taeyong. What. Are. You. Doing?
Taeyong heard a rustle. Crap. Then another rustle. This is great. More rustles from the bushes came soon afterwards. This is it. This is where I die. All because of a stupid dare and my stupid pride.
There was silence. Did the something walk away? No. Taeyong saw a silhouette in front of him. Not right in front of him, but enough for the thing to be out of the bushes.
Taeyong reached for his phone very, very, slowly. His fingers wrapped around the cold object. Taeyong took a deep breath, trying to calm his pounding heart. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I just need to see. Just once. Then I’ll run and never look back.
“I am going to turn on my flashlight okay?” Taeyong said to the silhouette. He didn’t know why he even bothered to talk to the thing. Then again, Taeyong didn’t even know why he was doing this. Curiosity got the best of him, it seems.
Taeyong raised his phone to be in front of his face. He turned his phone on. The harsh light made him squint. After his eyes adjusted, Taeyong presses on the flashlight icon.
A blinding white light illuminated the forest in front of Taeyong. Taeyong squeezed his eyes shut. He wasn’t ready for what he was about to see. But there was no turning back now. It was now or never. He opened his eyes.
Taeyong saw a boy, shielding his hands from the light. But that wasn’t what made Taeyong scream. It wasn’t what caused him to drop his phone in fear.
It was the fact that he saw a white, see-through boy.
The phone still emitted a bit of light from the ground. The clouds also moved to give the moon more room. Taeyong could see just a faint outline of the boy.
Run Taeyong, run! Taeyong didn’t move. It’s a ghost! Why aren’t you running? That was a good question. Why wasn’t Taeyong running? Any sensible person would runaway. Only people in horror movies stayed when they saw a ghost.
Maybe it was because the ghost seemed to only be a kid. Maybe it was because the ghost had his hands up in the air like he was being arrested. Maybe it was simply because Taeyong was so intrigued by the fact that he even saw a ghost.
Taeyong bent over and picked up his phone. He shined his flashlight on the ghost. Sure enough, the ghost seemed to be a kid. A young one at that too. Didn’t even look to be at Donghyucks age. He wore pyjamas, and everything about him was white. White and see-through. Dark, black eyes that matched the sky squinted at the flashlight. Taeyong also noticed, that the ghost boys feet just barely hovered over the ground.
Taeyong stayed in the same spot. The ghost also stayed in the same spot. For the longest time, neither of them moved. It seemed like both of them have never seen someone like, well, them. After a period of silence, Taeyong found the courage to speak.
“A-are you, re-real?” Taeyong asked, heart still pounding. The ghost only nodded his head. He lowered his arms. Taeyong guessed that he got used to the light.
“And, are you, a ghost?” Taeyong asked again. He wasn’t sure if he should say that to a ghost. It was basically stupid at this point, but Taeyong didn’t care at this point. He just wanted to make sure.
The ghost nodded again. That’s when Taeyong noticed two things. First, the dark spot in the boys translucent chest. Second, the boys widened eyes. Taeyongs blood ran cold when he saw the ghosts chest. When Taeyongs eyes rested on the ghosts black ones, he understood.
The ghost was scared. It felt ironic to Taeyong, for a ghost to be scared of a human. There was a first time for everything, he thought.
“I’m not gonna hurt you,” Taeyong said to the ghost. Then he realized how stupid that statement was. He’s a ghost dummy! Ghosts can’t get hurt!
The ghost however, laughed. It was short, but still, he laughed. Taeyong stared at the ghost, stunned. He never expected this was how a ghost encounter would go down. He always imagined the ghost to be, well, scary. This ghost was rather cute to be honest.
“Did I scare you?” Taeyong asked. His breathing had evened out a little. The ghost nodded his head with a small smile.
“I didn’t expect you to scream so loud,” the ghost said, very quietly. Taeyong was stunned again.
“So you can talk,” Taeyong said. This ghost kept surprising Taeyong every second. The ghost laughed again.
“I’m not very used to it, but yeah, I talk,” the ghost said.
“I never talked to a ghost like this before,”
“Do you want me to chase you home?”
“No, I’d rather stay,”
The ghost looked surprised at Taeyongs comment.
“You’re not...scared of me?” the ghost asked, slightly confused.
“Why would I?” Taeyong shrugged his shoulders. “You’re probably the most harmless ghost I’ve ever seen.”
The ghost gushed at Taeyongs comment, hiding his face with his hands. He never expected this kind of reaction from a human.
“People usually run away,” the ghost said. Taeyongs face fell as he saw the ghosts saddened eyes. He never realized how lonely it must’ve been for him.
“I won’t run away,” Taeyong told the ghost.
“Don’t you have friends waiting for you?”
“I do, but I’ll make sure to visit you,”
The ghosts eyes began to water. He took a deep breath before speaking again.
“I’m always around here, but I don’t like to show myself in the day time,” the ghost explained, voice cracking. “It would be nice if you could come at night.”
“Will do.” Taeyong checked the time on his phone. 12:40am. “Unfortunately, I gotta go now.” Disappointment painted the ghosts face.
“You’ll come back, right?” he asked. Taeyong took a step towards the ghost.
“I promise,” Taeyong said. The ghost smiled after that. It was genuine, Taeyong could tell. Taeyong was about to leave, but not before he asked one more thing.
“My name is Taeyong,” he said. “What’s your name?”
The ghost seemed almost shocked that Taeyong would ask that. However, he answered with as much happiness he could muster.
“Jisung! My name is Jisung!” he said.
“Well then Jisung, I’ll see you very soon.” Taeyong waved goodbye at Jisung. Jisung waved back as Taeyong turned around to go back.
Taeyong trekked back up the path to his house. It seemed that Taeil was right. There was indeed a ghost that haunted the woods. A friendly ghost named Jisung.
As Taeyong reached the house, he thought about the irony of the events that happened. At the beginning of his little hike, he thought he would for sure die. Now, he walked back into the house just like he did before many times.
Meanwhile, Jisung was watching the sun rise, hoping it would soon set. That way Taeyong will come, and he would be with a friend.
Something Jisung missed having.
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10 Movies We Can’t Wait To See At This Year’s Fantasia Film Festival
Ladies and Gentlemen, the 22nd Internation Fantasia Film Festival is upon us! This year’s lineup boasts from heavy hitters, including the World Premieres of Robert D. Krzykowski’s The Man Who Killed Hitler and then Bigfoot starring the legendary Sam Ellitot and Nightmare Cinema, directed by Mick Garris, Alejandro Brugués, Ryuhei Kitamura, David Slade and Joe Dante (who will also be recieving a lifetime achievement award). Also peremiering at the festival is David Robert Mitchell’s highly anticipted follow-up to It Follows, the neo noir Under The Silver Lake, the Spike Lee produced Tales From The Hood 2, and Dennison Ramalho’s (The ABC’s of Death) feature film debut, Among The Living.
There is no shortage of incredible, must-see films in this year’s lineup and it promises to be other banner year for genre film. The Fantasia Film Festival run from July 12th – August 1st in the heart of Montreal. Tickets are on sale now and can be purchased HERE.
Below are 10 movies that ewe can’t wait to see at this year’s Fantasia FIlm Festival. If you are going to be in attendance at the festival, let us know what your looking forward to seeeing in the comments below, on Twitter, Instagram, Reddit, and in the Horror Fiends of Nightmare on Film Street Facebook group!
    Mandy 
    Director: Pananos Cosmatos Writter: Pananos Cosmatos, Aaron Stewart-Ahn Cast: Nicolas Cage, Andrea Riseborough, Linus Roache, Bill Duke, Ricard Brake
“The peaceful existence of Red Miller (Nicolas Cage) in the Shadow Mountains of 1983 is burned to the ground when a deranged religious sect fixates on Mandy (Andrea Riseborough), the love of his life and, as is soon made very evident, a significant grounding force in his universe. Things deteriorate into a tranced-out nightmare of insect venom, hard drugs and broken-minded delirium as Red journeys into hell in order to avenge the woman he once lived for. Blood will flow in rivers. Worlds will collapse unto themselves.”
    Nightmare Cinema
    Director: Alejandro Brugués, Joe Dante, Mick Garris, Ryuhei Kitamura, David Slade Writer: Sandra Becerril, Alejandro Brugués, Lawrence C. Connolly, Mick Garris, Richard Christian Matheson, David Slade Cast: Maurice Benard, Richard Chamberlain, Annabeth Gish, Elizabeth Reaser, Mickey Rourke
“At a forgotten, haunted bijou, a group of strangers have assembled to watch a series of macabre vignettes unspooled by the mysterious Projectionist (Mickey Rourke). Like the best anthology films (DEAD OF NIGHT, CREEPSHOW, TRICK ‘R TREAT), the stories’ tones range from truly deep, dark, psychological, demented horror to ones with a lighter, satirical spin. Witness a ghost story that will chill you to the bone; an exorcism story guaranteed to make your head spin; a B&W descent into clinical madness; a plastic surgery gone horrifyingly awry; and a cabin-in-the-woods slasher ditty with a unique twist you’ll never see coming.”
    Under the Silver Lake
    Director: David Robert Mitchell Writer: David Robert Mitchell Cast: Andrew Garfield, Topher Grace, Riley Keough, Zosia Mamet
“Silver Lake, Los Angeles. The city of angels. The dream factory where it’s all too easy to lose contact grasp of Earth and see nothing but stars… Take for example Sam (Andrew Garfield), a prototypical slacker in his mid-thirties, without ambition… though he does have an unpredictable temperament, a penchant for voyeurism, and an unhealthy obsession with pop culture. When a mysterious neighbor (Riley Keough) appears in the sights of his binoculars, then disappears overnight without a trace, the first-class geek cannot help but investigate – possessed, somehow, by the eternal spirit of the countless detectives who stalked the hot asphalt of LA before him. But a Bogart he is not. Sam’s unorthodox methods very quickly leave him confounded; through the looking glass and into the heart of a strange city where dog killers, owl-women, aspiring actresses and gurus rub shoulders, among other high-society demiurges pulling the strings of an entire culture…”
    Terrified
  Director: Demián Rugna Writer: Demián Rugna Cast: Ariel Chavarría, Maximiliano Ghione, Norberto Gonzalo, Elvira Onetto
“The lives of three neighbours in Argentina are turned upside down following a series of violent deaths in the area. For retiring inspector Funes, what was supposed to be an easy case suddenly takes a strange turn and he finds himself dealing with more than he can handle. Paranormal experts are brought in to assist in investigating what they believe to be haunted houses, where they will be tested by an evil the likes of which they have never encountered. As the night goes on and chaos is unleashed upon them, nothing, and no one, can be trusted.”
    Tales From The Hood 2
    Directed: Darin Scott, Rusty Cundieff Writer: Darin Scott, Rusty Cundieff Cast: Keith David, Alexandria DeBerry, Bill Martin Williams, Bryan Batt, Lou Beatty Jr., Martin Bradford, Kendrick Cross
“Horror is back in the hood! The sequel to the groundbreaking original film TALES FROM THE HOOD reunites executive producer Spike Lee (Honorary Academy Award® winner) and writers/directors/producers Rusty Cundieff and Darin Scott for an all-new gripping, horrifying and oftentimes devilishly comical anthology. Keith David stars as a contemporary Mr. Simms to tell bloodcurdling stories about lust, greed, pride and politics through tales with demonic dolls, possessed psychics, vengeful vixens and historical ghosts. Mr. Simms’s haunting stories will make you laugh… while you scream.“
    The Witch In The Window
    Director: Andy Mitton Writer: Andy Mitton Cast: Arija Bareikis, Alex Draper, Greg Naughton, Carol Stanzione, Charlie Tacker
“Divorced dad Simon (Alex Draper) brings his 12-year-old son, Finn (Charlie Tacker) out to Vermont to help him renovate an old house he recently purchased. Used to the speed of New York City, Finn has an impossible time slowing down to a smalltown pace, and he’s disappointed before even getting there. So is Simon (“I guess I was hoping I would catch you on the 12 side of 12, instead of the 13 side of 12”). Afflicted with a rare medical condition in which there’s a literal hole in his heart, Simon, ever resourceful, does what he can to make things good as he and his son attempt to repair what’s broken. Soon, a series of nonsensically terrifying happenings occur, nightmarish and incomprehensible. It becomes clear that they aren’t alone in the house. That there is more work to be done than either could be capable of grasping. That death is a partially living state. And that they are in a very special kind of danger.“
  The Dark
    Director: Justin P. Lange Writer: Justin P. Lange Cast: Nadia Alexander, Karl Markovics, Toby Nichols
“Once upon a dark, dark time, there was a girl, lonely, undead and bloodthirsty. Behind her a dark, dark past – a curse. Hidden in the dark, dark woods, she tirelessly haunts her childhood home. Mina (Nadia Alexander) is a damaged soul, and tears to pieces anyone who dares enter her hunting ground. When she meets Alex (Toby Nichols), a disfigured and blind boy, brought to her by mysterious circumstances, her animalistic cannibal instincts seem to strangely fade away. As this uncanny friendship grows, little by little, both of these lost children learn how to reach out to the hints of light left within.”
    Cold Skin
    Director: Xavier Gens Writer: Jesus Olmo, Eron Sheean Cast: Aura Garrido, David Oakes, Ray Stevenson
“In the early years of the 20th century, a young man (David Oakes) takes over the responsibility of surveying the weather of a secluded island in the Antarctic. Hoping for isolation and time for self-reflection, he instead finds a crazed and weathered person named Gruner, played by genre favourite Ray Stevenson (DEXTER, THOR, DIVERGENT). Gruner quickly reveals that there is more to this island than meets the eye and that below the icy depths, a terrible scourge lurks. The extent of Gruner’s madness slowly becomes more and more pronounced as his bloodlust for the creatures becomes apparent. Struggling for survival, the surveyor must choose between a madman and a legion of creatures he does not fully understand.”
    Heavy Trip
    Director: Juuso Laatio, Jukka Vidgren Writer: Juuso Laatio, Jari Olavi Rantala, Aleksi Puranen, Jukka Vidgren Cast: Johannes Holopainen, Minka Kuustonen, Ville Tiihonen
“Life has its downsides in a small, northern Finnish town. The local bros give long-haired, leather-clad Turo a tough time, and his job at the mental hospital is literally shitty. His crush on Miia at the flower shop is thwarted by the tacky lounge singer Jouni, and his band jams in the back of a reindeer slaughterhouse. In the plus column for Turo, well… there’s the band, even if these black-metal true-believers have never gigged in all their 12 years together (Turo’s concealed but crippling stage fright hasn’t helped). A miraculous crack at a major metal festival in Norway jumpstarts the quartet’s dreams, and Impaled Rektum set out on a metallic mission that will make them confront not only doubts, detours and difficulties, but also Vikings in longships (plus an elf), graverobbing, Swedish rocket launchers and wolverine-wrestling (dangerous… and awkward!).“
    Dans La Brume
    Director: Daniel Roby Writer: Guillaume Lemans, Jimmy Bemon, Mathieu Delozier Cast: Romain Duris, Olga Kurylenko, Fantine Harduin, Michel Robin, Anne Gaylor
“Mathieu (Romain Duris, DE BATTRE MON COEUR S’EST ARRÊTÉ) and Anna (Olga Kurylenko, QUANTUM OF SOLACE) are the parents of a girl (Fantine Harduin, HAPPY END) who suffers from a genetic disorder forcing her to live in a hermetic box that filters the air. This already vulnerable existence becomes even more precarious on the day Paris is hit by an earthquake, and then filled with a mysterious toxic gas that seems to come from below ground. Only those hiding on the higher floors and rooftops of buildings survive, but they are left stranded, without any resources. Wanting to check that their daughter remains safe in her “bubble”, Mathieu and Anna will have to face the fog.”
    The Man Who Killed Hitler And Then Bigfoot
    Director: Robert Krzykowski Writer: Robert Krzykowski Cast: Sam Elliott, Caitlin FitzGerald, Ron Livingston, Aidan Turner
‘The year is 1987. Calvin Barr (a too-great-for-words Sam Elliott) is not a violent man. But he is more than capable of violence if sufficiently provoked. What many don’t realize about the thoughtful, elderly bloke regularly seen at the neighbourhood tavern is that he’s a legendary WW2 veteran who many years ago assassinated Adolf Hitler, an incredible secret that he’s frustratingly unable to share. One day, just as he’s coming to terms with rounding out his life, Calvin gets a visit from the FBI and the RCMP. They know what he’s done, and what he can be capable of. They have a mission for him. After discovering that it harbours a disease capable of eradicating humanity… they need him to take out Bigfoot.”
  Will you be in the Montreal area the next few weeks? Are you planning on seeing any movies at the 2018 Fantasia Film Festival? If so, let us know in the comments below, on Twitter, Instagram, Reddit, and in the Horror Fiends of Nightmare on Film Street Facebook group!
    The post 10 Movies We Can’t Wait To See At This Year’s Fantasia Film Festival appeared first on Nightmare on Film Street - Horror Movie Podcast, News and Reviews.
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obscured: chapter two
Summary: The forest is a dangerous place. Impenetrable fog has descended on it for one day a month for as long as anyone can remember. There are stories of wolves and ghosts haunting the woods and tales of doomed lovers from long ago. Things are about to change though and maybe love will find a way after all. (Nine/Rose AU)  AN: *coughs guiltily* hi i'm here with my yearly update of this fic. i hope to have another chapter up by the end of the year so keep an eye out for that! Also, note that age difference in this fic. This is a younger version of Nine - a little less jaded (though still some), maybe a little more optimistic, etc.  (Also any opportunity to picture a young CE is a good opportunity. He looks good at any age tbh, but there is a dearth of mid-late twenties CE in my life so here we are.) Word Count: 3803 // Rating: All Ages AO3 // tumblr // TSP // FF
"Rose! I was getting worried!" Jackie exclaimed, hurrying over to her daughter the moment she walked in the door of their cottage.
Rose gripped her mum's arms, surprised by the intensity of Jackie's distress. She'd expected to walk in to a lecture on going further into the woods and staying longer than necessary, not to Jackie in an almost panic.
"What's wrong? I wasn't gone any longer than usual." Rose said, leaning over to set her basket of herbs and mushrooms on the table. She turned back to her mum and saw the fear behind her eyes. "What happened?"
Jackie shook her head. "Nothin' yet, love. But someone new's come into the village and I've got a bad feeling about them and you weren't home yet. I was just worried."
"I'm sorry I got you worried," Rose said, pulling Jackie into a hug. "I took a little longer than I meant to."
Jackie pulled out of the hug and pushed at her shoulder with a snort. "No, you didn't."
Rose laughed. "Yeah, alright. But I did get some more wolfsheart today, I know we were running low."
"Why don't you go put everything up in the stillroom?"
Rose picked up her basket again but didn't move towards the back room. "What about the stranger's got you all on edge? Usually you're the first one to invite someone new around for the latest news from abroad."
Jackie's mouth hardened into a line. "I've just got a bad feeling about 'im. Something about his eyes makes me distrust him."
Rose bit her bottom lip and headed towards the back room. Her mum's instincts about people were usually good but she did have a tendency to rush to judgment based on them. She'd have to wait to see if she spotted this stranger herself, maybe ask the forest if he'd gone through there and made any impression.
The trees had a good impression of her Doctor, of John. She wondered what Jackie would think if she met him. She bit back a smile at the thought. The Doctor would have a hell of a time with trying to talk circles around her mum but they'd probably get around to swapping healing lore before long. They could bond over that.
Rose shook her head as she bundled herbs for drying. One actual conversation with her healer and she was imagining how her mother would like him. She always was one for getting ahead of herself.
She was putting up the wolfsheart when she heard someone knock on the door. It was too authoritative to be any of their neighbors and Rose was halfway out of the stillroom when Jackie caught her eye and shooed her back inside, motioning for her to shut the door as well.
The worry was back in Jackie's eyes so Rose did as she was told. As soon as the stillroom door shut with a soft click, she pressed her ear against the worn wood, anxious to know what was happening out in the main room.
The voices were muffled but she could make out her mum's clipped tone and the oily smooth pronunciation of a stranger talking about some sort of healing remedy for a deep bruise.
"Let me make up a poultice for you to take with you. I've got what I need in my stillroom." Jackie's voice was clear as she turned towards the door Rose was pressed against.
"I'd love to see where you do your magic," the oily voice said.
Rose shuddered. Something about the man's voice rubbed her the wrong way and made her long for the safety of the forest. Jackie was definitely right to distrust him.
"Nothing magic about it," Jackie said, steel in her tone leaving no room for argument. "But I don't like strangers in my stillroom. I'll be out in a just a mo' with your poultice."
Rose backed up from the door, positioning herself behind it so that she wouldn't be seen when Jackie slipped inside. The two women shared a look laden with meaning before Jackie began to assemble her bruise remedy.
She crushed a handful of parsley with her mortar and pestle and then added some mint and lavender to soothe the senses more than the injury. She finished it off with a sprinkle of water Rose had gathered from a hollow stump after the first rainfall of spring.
Jackie tied it all up in a cloth and stepped out of the stillroom two minutes after she'd entered, closing the door firmly behind her.
Rose heard them Jackie explaining how to best use the remedy and then discuss the price briefly before the front door opened and shut.
A few minutes passed before Jackie opened the door to the stillroom. "You can come out now if you're done putting up what you gathered today."
Rose leaned against the counter, watching her mother closely. She looked exhausted after the encounter with their customer. "That was the stranger in town you were worried about, yeah?"
"Unfortunately. Apparently someone pointed him our direction to get a poultice."
"Who is he?"
"Hopefully, we never find out," Jackie said with finality. "Now, why don't you show me what else you picked up today when you went further into the forest than what I asked you to?"
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Rose stayed close to the cottage for the next couple of days. Word was the stranger was still hanging around town. He apparently wasn't talking to anyone but he paid handsomely for room and board so the people of Powell let him be. As far as anyone could fathom, he was waiting for something or someone, although what he possibly thought could happen in somewhere as isolated as their village was beyond them.
By late afternoon of the third day, Rose couldn't stand sitting around any longer and made her way towards the forest with her gathering basket. Her sturdy grey cloak kept the unseasonably brisk breeze at bay and she practically ran to the treeline.
The hood of her cloak fell around her shoulders and as it did, Rose felt a chill steal over her that had nothing to do with autumn quickly closing in. Someone was watching her. The young oaks around her, steady and protective, didn't like it any more than she did, and they filled her head with their buzzing concern.
She slipped further inside the forest, sticking to the path until she was sure she was out of the sight of whoever was observing her. The moment the trees around her exuded relief at her being unobserved, Rose set off at a run towards a clearing half a mile from any path, knowing no one would be able to find her there without the help of the forest or someone who knew it as well as her.
By the time she got there, her heart was pounding and she'd almost managed to run away from the feeling of a cold gaze sliding over her body from afar. The chatty bushes and saplings in the clearing did the rest to help distract her and banish the memory for the time being.
She returned home calmer than when she left but with a feeling of foreboding that even the forest hadn't been able to erase.
The next day, the stranger left town without a word.
If he passed through the forest on his way in or out of Powell, none of the trees or bushes would speak to Rose about his passing.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Rose ran to the woods, blue cloak fluttering behind her. Autumn had set in fully now and the forest floor was covered in a damp blanket of red, gold, and brown. The chill in the air stung her cheeks as she wound her way along the paths but she barely felt it in her excitement.
John should be back today. Or rather, he was back if the gossiping trees were correct. This time she was determined to sneak up on him instead of the other way around. If the trees would just tell her what path he was on, she was sure she could pull it off.
Finally a group of maples told her through the arboreal version of giggles that the healer had just passed them. Rose hurried in their direction as some ash trees chimed in from further down the path to confirm what the maples said.
She was grinning bright and wide as she stepped soundlessly onto the path behind John. She could tell he was scanning the underbrush on either side of the path, keeping an eye out for her.
"Looking for something, Doctor?" Rose called out.
He didn't jump but it was a close thing. When he turned to face her, there was a smile as big as her own on his face. "Someone, actually. You seen any wood sprites around here? Looking for one about this high," he put a hand up, indicating her height, "blonde, bit gorgeous."
Rose's heart skipped a beat. She tucked her tongue into the corner of her smile. "Just a bit?"
"Maybe more than a bit," John replied, smile not fading at all as he walked towards her.
"Mmm, don't know any wood sprites of that description," she said.
He reached and linked their hands together, pulling her closer. "You're sure about that?"
"Pretty sure, yeah."
"Shame. I'll have to keep looking then." John made like he was pulling away from her but Rose tightened her grip on his hand.
"Don't you dare."
Rose closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him, hands bumping against the bulging pack on back. It didn't feel like it was the first time she had hugged him as she rested her head against his woolen jumper. It felt like she'd been doing this forever.
John's hands were tentative as he splayed them on her back, holding her to him.
"I missed you," he admitted quietly, mouth just above her ear.
Rose pulled back just enough to look up at him. "You barely even know me," she said, watching his face carefully.
"Are you saying you didn't miss me?"
She scoffed. "Of course I missed you, you plonker."
"And you barely know me," he pointed out.
Alright, fair enough," she conceded. She stepped out of his embrace but reached out to reclaim his hand. "So, Doctor, tell me about where you've been travelling? I know a place we can sit for a while if you've got time."
"I always have time for you."
"Smooth talker all of a sudden," Rose teased.
John made a face. "You'd be the first to accuse me of that. Usually stumbling over my words when I'm not talking about medicine, me."
"Haven't done with me."
"You seem to be an exception to the rule, Rose Tyler," he said, squeezing her hand.
"Good. So, where have you been lately?" she asked as she led him off the path. There was a small stream nearby that she sometimes swam in. It was too cold today but it was still a pretty spot to sit and talk.
"Oh, here and there. Nowhere particularly exciting," John hedged.
"Everywhere's exciting to me," Rose insisted. "I've never left Powell except to come into the forest."
"I don't think I've ever been to Powell," he mused.
"You haven't. Everyone in town would know if you'd been through."
She shuddered at the thought of the last stranger who'd passed through. He hadn't been back yet but she couldn't shake the feeling that he would be.
"Are you cold?" John asked, looking down at her with concern.
"Nah, just had a bad thought, is all."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Really. It's nothing. The conversation just reminded me of the last outsider who came through town," Rose elaborated.
"Didn't care for them?"
"Gave me the creeps even though I never got a proper look at him," Rose admitted. The sound of the water was growing louder and she picked up her pace, dragging John along with her in an attempt to forestall any further questions.
Rose found the old stump by the stream and took her usual seat on it. John set his pack down and then lowered himself to the ground, laying on his side with the grace of a cat and completely heedless of the dampness of the forest floor from last night's rain.
"Tell me about your travels?" Rose asked again.
This time he relented. "What do you want to know, curious little wood sprite?"
"Everything."
Rose leaned forward, propping her elbows on knees, waiting for whatever story he chose to tell. She'd imagined a million of them all the times she'd shadowed him through the forest. She could tell even then by the wear on his pack and the ease of his long stride that he travelled often and far.
She'd wanted to know everything about him then. Now the need was even stronger.
"Went west to the Forest of Cheem, have you heard of it?"
Rose shook her head.
"It's different kind of forest than this one, much less feared. There's a whole city's worth of people who live within it, coexisting with the trees and the flow of nature," he said, admiration clear in his voice. "It's fantastic, it really is. If you don't know the community is there, you'd never even see them with how they've integrated themselves. It's almost like they've become trees, somehow."
"Find any wood sprites there?" Rose asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Her tone was a little more arch than she intended but her healer just chuckled, low and deep.
"No wood sprites. Had the local equivalent of a princess proposition me, though."
"And you said you weren't a smooth talker!"
"She was the one doing the propositioning, not me! I thought she'd just been being nice, helping me with finding the patients who needed attention. Figured she flirted with everyone if she flirting with this daft old face."
Rose nudged him with her foot. "S'not daft. Anyone with eyes would be flirting with you."
Or ears, she thought to herself. She loved the rumble of his voice, the unique way his tongue wrapped around words and the cadence of his accent.
John just shook his head, self-deprecating smile clear to read.
"I mean it," Rose insisted.
The copse of alders across the stream snickered at her and she shot them a mental reproach hoping that they heard her. She didn't need the persnickety trees commenting on her own attempts at flirting.
He smiled at her, blue eyes brightening as her sincerity registered.
"You know," he started, speaking in a casual tone that did was obviously put on, "despite the relationship the people of Cheem have with their forest, no one quite interacted with it the way you do with these trees."
Rose froze and then carefully, consciously loosened her muscles, trying to appear casual herself. "Maybe I'm just an odd duck," she offered.
"Or you've got the land magic that most are still convinced is a myth."
Rose just fixed him with a glare.
"Alright, alright, I'll leave it be for now. I'm just curious. I've been studying the sparse accounts and legends of it for years and you're the first person I've ever come across that might be able to confirm or dismiss my theories."
"So I'm just a science experiment, then?" Rose asked, pain lancing through her chest. It hurt more than she could have anticipated to realize that maybe her healer was not interested in her the same way she was in him.
How could he not feel the pull dragging them together? Did he not feel like there were live sparks tumbling through his veins and heating him through when they were touching? Was she in this all on her own?
Stupid, stupid, stupid, she thought, looking away from him in the split second after she asked her question. He was a fully accredited doctor, of course he wouldn't have any interest in girl from a tiny village who wasn't even a proper healer.
"No!" The word burst out of him with unexpected force.
Rose looked back at him, questioning look at her face.
John moved to a kneeling position, looking up at her. "You're not an experiment to me, Rose. Not at all."
"No?"
"No." He kept her gaze, expression serious until he was sure she believed him and then cracked a small smile. "Besides, one doesn't turn down a proposition from a princess so they can make their date with a science experiment."
Rose laughed. "Alright, I guess I'll believe that."
"Good, because it's true."
Silence fell between them and Rose could hear the alders laughing again. At least she didn't have to worry about them sharing the whole story with any of the more gossipy trees. The alders liked to maintain an air of mystery and just talked amongst themselves.
There were some birches nearby that might tell the tale though. She groaned mentally. The forest wasn't going to let her hear the end of this for days.
"Are you heading back to the east edge of the forest?" Rose asked.
John nodded.
"You should probably start heading that way if you want to stay on the path you were on and still make it out by nightfall."
"Good plan."
"Then follow me, Doctor." She stood and waited for him to grab his pack and do the same before linking their hands again.
"You always going to call me Doctor?" he asked, sounding amused.
Rose looked up at him. "Didn't sound like you were too fond of your name. Would you rather me call you John?"
He shook his head. "No, I just... I'm not used to people listening when I ask them to call me something else, I suppose."
"Well, you were my healer for months before I talked to you so switching to calling you my Doctor was easy," she said, beaming up at him.
Just like she'd hoped, the tips of his ears turned pink and his eyes darkened a touch at her claiming him as hers again.
Rose got them back to the path and then dropped his hand, unsure now of what to do. It was difficult to part ways when she wanted to do anything but walk away from him.
He nodded towards the small basket she had with her. "Have I kept you from your gathering?"
She shook her head.  "I just brought it in case I spotted something I wanted."
"And you didn't?"
Rose flicked her eyes down his body and then back up to meet his gaze. "I did, but I don't think my basket's big enough."
His eyes darkened as her words sunk in and Rose felt a thrill go through her at knowing she'd caused this reaction. John reached out and pulled her against him for another hug.
"I'll be back next month, my little wood sprite."
"Not so little," she protested, not moving from the embrace.
"Littler than me," he said, resting his chin on her head in demonstration.
Reluctantly, she started to pull away after another few moments. The days were getting shorter and she didn't want John to be in the woods after dark because of her. John's hold on her didn't let her get very far.
Rose tilted her head up and let out a tiny gasp at the intensity of his gaze. She could feel his thumb rub against her back through her cloak, grounding and comforting as he searched her face for something.
Rose just let her heart shine though her eyes and hoped he found whatever he was looking for.
Slowly, giving her every chance to pull away, John leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek, right off the corner of her mouth.
He pulled back after a couple of seconds that had slowed into a small eternity.
"I'll see you soon, my Rose," he said, voice rougher than it had been moments earlier.
"Until next time, Doctor," she answered. Knowing that if she stayed even a breath longer, she would jump back into his arms and do her best to kiss him senseless, Rose smiled at him and then turned and darted off into the trees.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
John watched her go and let out a long breath as she seemingly vanished after taking a couple steps off the path. If his pulse wasn't still pounding and his lips tingling from their almost-kiss, he would think she might well be a vision, a creation of his imagination or something that haunted these mysterious woods to lure travelers off the path.
But Rose was real and he had just almost kissed her. He ran a hand down his face, fingertips lingering on his lips. He'd wanted to haul her against him and snog her properly. The way her golden-brown eyes had darkened and shimmered as she looked up at him, breath catching, told him that she had expected him to, wanted him to.
He groaned and started walking down the path. Rose had been right to say that they barely knew each other but it was hard to remember that particular fact when she was grinning at him and bantering like they'd known each other their whole lives. She had to be six or seven years younger than him but it didn't seem to matter.
Something about her just drew him in though, a gravity all her own. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her this entire month even though they had only a half hours acquaintance. The woman was magical, in more ways than one.
John grimaced as remembered her reaction to him pushing about her land sense. He had not intended to make her feel like all she was to him was a curiosity or experiment. He did desperately want to know more about the magic she wasn't talking about and her connection to the forest, and there were people who he was aware of in the magical community who would treat her as an experiment, but he was far more interested in her as a person.
The hurt painted on her face and the doubts that had slumped her shoulders in the wake of his questions were going to haunt him, he thought. He never wanted to make her look like that again.
He much preferred her sparkling, wild smile or the look of breathless anticipation right before he kissed her.
Those were expressions he planned on being the cause of again. The latter one in particular, he knew he would be dreaming about for the next month.
Although magic involving time was one of his specialties, he knew he couldn't make the days until their next meeting go by any faster, but it didn't stop him from wishing that he could.
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TITLE: We’ve met before, haven’t we? (Part 1)
CHAPTER TITLE: ラッキーナンバー8 (Lucky Number 8)
WARNINGS & RATINGS: No warnings apply, Teen and up rating.
FANDOM: Overwatch
SUMMARY:  These three have met the supernatural, whether they wanted to or not. It's a small world after all. (Or rather, this is the story of how three people keep running into the supernatural, and had favours and boons repaid.
The first time Hanzo met something…not natural, was when he was 10, lost in the streets of Tokyo City, his parents and Genji nowhere to be seen.
“What the hell you doin’ here kid?”  a voice, hoarse and croaky sounds from behind him.
Hanzo turns, to see a turtle like creature, with a large bald spot on the top of its head, surrounded by black, waterlogged hair. The bill was a bright, cheery yellow, which was a strange contrast to the green scales the rest of the body is covered in. Its limbs were long and gangly, with webbed fingers and toes on the end. It’s standing in the river behind him, water reaching its chest.
“Who…who are you?” Hanzo asked, not entirely sure of what the creature is.
“I’m a Kappa kiddo. Youth these days, always so uneducated, never teach the proper things and-hey! Why in the name of Sujin can you see me?” The kappa says, pointing at Hanzo in an incredulous manner.
Hanzo gives a shrug.
The Kappa blinks, before continuing “Anyway, what are you doing next to by River kid? I have a half mind to drown you.”
Hanzo blinked, before replying “I got lost. I don’t know where my parents are…”
The Kappa sighs, before coming out of the water and beginning to walk. “I can help you kid. Just…get me some fish as payment, and we’ll call it even, ya hear?”
Hanzo nods, before following after the Kappa.
(He finds his parents at a police station half an hour later. His parents buy him sashimi, and Hanzo gives a few slices of salmon and tuna to the Kappa, who cackles and leaves with a “Take care of yourself kid!”. Genji asks who he gave the fish to, and Hanzo just replies with a quiet grin.)
-LINE BREAK-
The second time Hanzo has met the supernatural, was in Hanamura, looking for Genji. He’s already visited the arcade, and several bars, finding nothing. He’s about to give up when a girl wearing a kimono appears, several plates surrounding her. Her hair is black and her skin is a deathly white. She’s translucent and she’s beckoning him.
“Come.”  She says, skipping away. “Follow me please. I can help you, just follow me please.”
Hanzo, with nothing left to lose, follows the girl and her floating plates to the older parts of the city, where his brother, drunk and passed out (And missing his shoes for some odd reason) on the ground. The girl giggles, and says “Far too much sake. Like my old master!”
Hanzo looks at the girl, and her floating plates and asks “What are-” before catching himself halfway, not wanting to seem rude.
The girl doesn’t mind, because she replies “I am an Okiku, the plate counting ghost.”
Hanzo blinks, before saying “Do you want something in return?”
The Okiku looks shocked for a second, before whispering “If I could get a plate, I would be rather happy. I like counting them.”
Hanzo breathes, and picks up Genji, but not before buying a plate and giving it to the Okiku. She giggles and whispers a “Thank you very much” in his ear before running off, probably to count her plates or to find someone else to serve.
Hanzo shifts Genji and drags him home.
(Later, the Okiku comes back, embarrassed, and says “I forgot to tell you, but you must be careful!”  Hanzo doesn’t understand. Genji has started to wake up, muttering about someone named Mercer and blaming him for mixing sake and whiskey together.)
-LINE BREAK-
The third time, is a whole year after killing Genji, and he’s lost in the Black Forest of Germany when he senses something…off.
He turns, bow raised, pointing at a hooded figure, a lamp in their hand, who says “Who are you, and why are you here?”
Hanzo is about to say his real name, but instead goes for a nickname instead. “Dragonstrike. My name is Dragonstrike.”
The hooded figure tilted their head, as if pleased. “Clever. Not giving your real name.” They pull the hood back, revealing androgynous features and pointed ears, hair, blond and short, eyes ever so slanted and cat like. They seem to glow without the hood covering their face, their own, soft yellow mixing with the oil lamp’s orange.  “I won’t give you my name either, but I can tell you what I am. I am an elf, one of the rare few you will see. You may call me Archer.” They whisper.  
Hanzo cocks his head to the side before asking “Are you fae?”
The elf chuckles, and holds the lamp a little higher. “You can consider me so, but we are much lower then them. You have been doing your research, haven’t you?”
Hanzo nods, lowering his bow and slinging it on his back.
“A noble weapon you wield there Dragonstrike, although lacking in comparison to ours, sung from the very trees that you see here.” Archer says, turning. “Come, follow me. I will lead you to the edge of the forest, and from there, you can make your way to the nearest city.”
Hanzo hurries to follow, asking his own questions. “Sung from trees?”
Archer laughs, peals ringing clear and true, and says “We sing our bows from trees, for why harm the tree when you can coax it, grow it, and sing it out of the tree?”
Hanzo ponders it for the moment, before asking, “Is your bow made in such way?”  
Archer nods, with a quiet “Sung from an ancient oak, named Blitz geschossen, or Shot Lightning in the common tongue, it is yet to be give in to my shots. But tell me about your bow, Dragonstrike.”
“It’s made out of steel, and it has been named Stormbow. It is yet to break.”
“Storm bow? An interesting name.”
Hanzo doesn’t reply.
They reach the edge of the forest, and Archer stands there, their lamp still lit as Hanzo steps into the field, drinking in the cool night air.
“I hope we meet again Dragonstrike.” Archer says, pulling their hood over their features.
Hanzo nods. “And you as well, Archer.”
(Hanzo returns a month later, only to find a quiver left in the grass, and a note written, reading “Keep your arrows in this, Dragonstrike, for your arrows will not deplete and will never break, and will always hit their mark. I only ask for a payment of food in return.”. Hanzo takes the quiver, leaving a few dried nuts and berries in return. They disappear the next day, a note reading “Thanks.” left behind.)
-LINE BREAK-
The fourth time, it’s deep during the Null Sector Uprising within London, the air buzzing with electricity, and Hanzo is regretting coming to the city.
He’s walking, bow drawn, careful to avoid the sensors of the Null Sector Omnics, when a small being flies into his face.
It’s a girl, about the height of his hand, hovering there on insect like wings, hair dark and short, and she’s wearing a dress that resembles an upturned lily.
“Help!” She seems to whisper, flittering in his face. “Come help, please!”
Hanzo considers for a moment, before replying “Lead me.”
The fairy loops around his head, before flying down the street, Hanzo running to keep up. She turns into an alleyway, and Hanzo follows, only to see a pair of children, a brother and his younger sister curled up in the corner. They both had pointed ears, yet, unlike the elf he met in the Black Forest, their features were more human, and they didn’t have the grace of one.
“Changelings.” The fairy he follows whispers. “Changelings who have lost their human mother and Father.”
Hanzo slings his bow on his back, and crouches down, and asks “Can I help you?”
The changelings huddle closer together, before the boy mutters “Hungry. Tired.”
Hanzo pulls out two ration bars from his pouch, offering them to the changelings. “Here.” He says, the older brother instinct kicking in. “Have them.”
The changelings quiver for a moment, before taking them, opening and devouring them hungrily, the girl breaking off a sultana bit and giving it to the fairy. She giggles, and eats the offered fruit.
“Can you walk?” Hanzo asks.
Both nod, and get up, the older brother picking up his sister, the fairy flying to sit on his shoulder.
Hanzo leads them out of the alleyway, leading them to the subway systems, escorting them out of London.
(A whole two months later, he chances of the trio again, the three of them living in Scotland. Hanzo entertains them, letting them hear his tales and adventures. “What an interesting life.” The brother says, smirking. The sister nods, and the fairy giggles, before saying “It could save you.”)
-LINE BREAK-
The fifth (and most definitely not the last) time he’s encountered the supernatural, was right after Genji revealed he was alive.
And it really wasn’t Hanzo’s fault. He wasn’t really expecting a large dog like sprit to launch it self and headbutt Genji in the gut, causing him to fly back onto the balcony, while the-was it even a dog? -gave a yip and stood next to Hanzo, panting.
“I am the Inugami of the Shimada Clan. Hello Hanzo-san.” The Inugami said, nosing Genji. “I made him come back! Yay!”
Hanzo sort of just stood there, while Genji groaned, and got up, looking around. “What…what happened?”
Hanzo, torn between telling Genji that he got head butted by a spirit dog, and telling him that he must have the worst luck in the world, it wasn’t hard.
“I don’t know. Maybe you made some Yokai mad, Genji.” Hanzo muttered, quiet enough for Genji to hear. The Inugami yapped, and plodded behind Hanzo saying things like “I’m going to follow Hanzo-san! And Genji-san! Yay!”
Hanzo resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose as Genji jumped away again, now fearing for his life.
Hanzo went back inside the shrine to back up, as well as gather his arrows. (He might be using the enchanted quiver the elf gave him, but he is not wasteful.)
Then her turns to leave the castle.
(The Inugami follows him to the gate, where it stopped and asked if Hanzo will come back next year. Hanzo ponders it for a bit, before nodding, knowing the guards often enjoy Hanzo coming every year. Then he turns to leave for the nearest train station, hoping to find a train to Tokyo, hoping to meet the old Kappa. He’s already seen the Okiku earlier in the night.)
-LINE BREAK-
The sixth time, it’s on Route 66 in America, walking down a dusty path towards a diner, when it bumps into him.
It seems like a normal snake, if it weren’t for the golden horns spiralling from its head, as well as the fact it easily reached its torso.
The snake hisses, and looks up, only to see Hanzo staring down at him. The town is mostly empty, no one noticing whatever Hanzo was doing.
The snake hisses, and tugs on Hanzo’s sleeve, trying to pull it somewhere. Hanzo, with no other choices, follows behind the horned serpent, confused at what it’s trying to show him.
Turns out, it’s a bird, one with lightning rippling down its body, a wing at an odd angle, and its squawking in pain, as it tries to move. It stills upon seeing Hanzo and the horned serpent, and silently holds it’s broken wing towards him, as if asking for him to fix it.
Hanzo, with experience of fixing bird wings from when Genji would bring him injured birds, pulls out gauze and finds a few dead branches, sets out to place a splint on the wing.
It takes a few moments to set the wing, the bird silent, and when Hanzo is done, the wing is in a splint, and the bird flaps it experimentally, thunder booming with every flap. It makes a happy sort of noise and flies off, a single feather landing in Hanzo’s hand.
(He sees the bird again, who now has introduced it self as a thunderbird, involving a lot of squawking and it pointing its healed wing towards a totem pole and the picture of a thunderbird in the book that Hanzo carries about legendary creatures with it’s beak. Hanzo finally gets it after a while, and the thunderbird seemed pleased that Hanzo understood, despite it being unable to speak.)
-LINE BREAK-
A seventh time happens in Watchpoint: Gibraltar, Hanzo finally joining Overwatch. While his brother is happy along side his teacher, The Shambali Monk Zenyatta, others were less trusting or cool towards him, which Hanzo didn’t really minds.
However, what he does mind is the balls of blue fire hovering several centimetres off the floor, and the fact that Hanzo is the only one that sees them, but Solider:76 has been staring at empty hallways and walls a lot, although that maybe just him being old. But then D.va does it too, and talks about voices she keeps hearing.
But, in the dead of the night, Hanzo pushes the thoughts aside to follow the balls of bright blue flame down the corridors, towards the bowels of the watchpoint.
There, the air was musty and the floor was covered in a layer of dust that rose up wherever he stepped. The walls were covered in peeling white paint, patches of steel from when the paint had chipped away reflecting the glow of the fire.
Hanzo continued to follow deeper until he’s hit with the smell of salt and water.
He presses on, stepping into a hidden cove under the watchpoint, and the fireballs have all but disappeared. He looks around before seeing the water beginning to bubble, and a man’s head pops out.
“Hello.” The man says, showing off fanged teeth, gills flared on his neck. “I am Hombre pez, the fish-man, and I want to make a deal.”
Hanzo pauses for a minute, before saying “Why should I? Someone told me I shouldn’t make deals with the supernatural.”
The fish-man cackles, a jarring and waterlogged sound, wheezing before saying “Clever boy. Listened to advice, did you? Clever.”
Hanzo cocks his head, confused.
The fish-man answers his question. “I asked the Will-o-the-wisps to guide you here, they owed me a favour, and here you are. I’m only asking for a favour, human.”
Hanzo looks at him, before saying “How can I help?”
The fish man grins, fanged teeth showing, promising lies and nightmares, and says “You need not to know now. When the time comes, archer, I will tell you, but not now.”
Hanzo nods, and gets up to leave the cove. The fish-man goes back beneath the water, and the Will-o-the-Wisps disappear, one by one.
(Later, Hanzo finds a fish scale, iridescent in a thousand different colours and smelling of sea salt and water, and a note written on dried kelp, reading “Keep it safe. Keep it close.” Hanzo doesn’t know that these kinds of scales are not freely given to humans, and it’s a talisman meant to bring luck at sea. Hanzo doesn’t know that, and instead, tucks it into a pocket, keeping it close.)
-LINE BREAK-
The eighth time is back in Japan, near an old abandoned Shinto Temple, a team consisting of Lucio, D.va, Hanzo, Genji, Soldier:76 and McCree, fighting against a hoard of Talon agents, Reaper in the lead.
They’re fighting a losing battle, 6 against a large number of enemies, and D.va has just lost her mech and McCree’s metal arm has been blown off by Reaper, Soldier:76’s visor had been destroyed, leaving Hanzo, Genji and Lucio tired and holding the line.
Then Hanzo feels the hairs on his neck stand on it’s end, and he turns, to see a ball of bright blue fire hit the centre of the Talon agents, exploding. Then a woman appears, wearing a kimono, white hair and 9 fox tails, a pair of ears on her head. She’s holding two balls of bright fox fire, fury in her eyes and rage fuelling her flames.
Lucio, McCree and Genji looked confused, The Solider seems angry and D.va has her mouth opened. Hanzo, is standing there, bow drawn, when he hears the woman speak.
“Send your dragons out, archer. I grow weary of these men coming to my temple.”  She speaks, and Hanzo nods, firing his dragons at Talon. Fox fire follows after spiralling in a helix shape, burning everything in their path.
Reaper and the rest of Talon flees, and Hanzo’s teammates tend their wounds, while the woman turns to Hanzo, speaking again “I am a kitsune of this temple, a guardian of this gate. You and your friends may stay if they so wish. No harm will come while I am here.”
Hanzo nods, and runs back to his team.
(When they leave the temple, a ball of fox fire follows after Hanzo, leaving a prayer slip in his hand. He looks it over, and then looks at the writing on the front. It simply reads “lucky”, and Hanzo ties it to a nearby pine tree. When he does, his soul feels lighter, and he hurries after his teammates.)
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