#Hi emerge from the void and I bring with me sad things

[doumadono]

Hi, does this count as an emergency request? If not feel free to ignore, thank you.

My cat Arthur who's been with my family for a long while while hurt when he got outside yesterday, he passed this morning and my world is spinning. Would it be possible to ask for some comfort through Bakugou?

A/N: I'm really sorry to hear about the loss of your beloved cat. Losing a pet is always incredibly tough. I hope that, with time, you will gradually find healing after the loss

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

Life had been challenging since the loss of your beloved cat. The grief weighed heavily on your heart, and the once-familiar silence in your home now felt oppressive. You'd shared a unique and cherished bond with the cat, and the void he left behind was suffocating.

Bakugo, your boyfriend, was not known for his softness or sentimentality, but he could see the depth of your pain. The sadness in your eyes hadn't gone unnoticed, and he was determined to find a way to bring back the light that had dimmed in your life. He was about to hatch a plan that, unbeknownst to you, would be a potent mix of surprise and emotion.

Seven months had passed since your beloved kitten, Arthur, had crossed the Rainbow Bridge, leaving a void in your heart.

On a crisp spring morning, he presented you with a mystery. "Close your eyes, and don't open 'em 'til I say so," he grumbled, his demeanor trying to hide his excitement.

You obeyed, curious yet tinged with worry. Bakugo had his own way of surprising you, but this felt different.

A soft rustling followed, and then the sensation of something warm and fuzzy against your fingertips. "Okay, open your eyes."

You blinked in astonishment, your gaze meeting a pair of sparkling brown eyes, filled with endless curiosity. A fluffy, golden retriever puppy was nestled in your lap, wagging its tail with enthusiasm.

"Bakugo!" you gasped, your heart swelling with joy. "Is this… for me? You got me a pupper?"

He crossed his arms, a faint blush on his cheeks. "Don't get all mushy on me. Yeah, it's for you. I noticed how down you've been since Arthur…. well, you know. Thought this might help."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you scooped up the puppy, cuddling it close to your chest. "You… You have no idea how much this means to me."

The puppy yipped happily, nuzzling against you, and you couldn't help but smile through your tears. Bakugo might not express himself like others, but his actions spoke louder than any words could.

Days turned into weeks as you and the puppy, now named Sunny, built a deep bond. Sunny was a whirlwind of energy, constantly testing your patience as you tried to train him. You spent countless hours with Bakugo, who had secretly been watching training videos to help you.

One evening, as you sat on the couch, Sunny perched beside you, Bakugo turned to you and said, "You've done a damn good job with that furball."

You looked at him with a teasing glint in your eyes. "High praise coming from you, Katsuki. Did you ever imagine we'd love a dog this much?"

He huffed, leaning in closer. "Don't get too smug. It's just 'cause you're so crazy about the damn thing."

You laughed, leaning into him. "Thanks for giving me a reason to smile again, Bakugo."

His gruff exterior softened, and he pulled you closer. "Yeah, well, someone's gotta keep that smile on your face."

As the weeks turned into months, the three of you became inseparable. Sunny had grown into an energetic, playful dog that loved to steal Bakugo's socks and make a mess of his bowls.

But Bakugo had also grown, showing a side of himself that he'd hidden from others for so long.

#emergency request #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #katsuki x reader #katsuki x y/n #bakugou x y/n #katsuki bakugo fic #katsuki bakugo x y/n #bnha x reader #bakugo blurb #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #mha x reader #bnha x fem!reader #bakugo katsuki #kacchan #bakugou fluff #bakugou katsuki x reader fluff #dynamight #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha fluff #bnha fluff #mha blurb

[azrielgreen]

Touched CH7 preview

‘Levitating,’ Nancy repeats, voice hollow, stare void. They’re all in Chrissy’s living room after Robin brought Nancy inside. ‘He just… we got out of the car in the middle of the road. He was losing it, crying and terrified and then he just… he went still.’

Eddie is listening with his loosely balled hand over his mouth, hanging back to give her space. Robin and Chrissy are either side of Nancy on the sofa. Robin’s holding her hand. Max and El are helping keep Mrs. Cunningham busy by eating and making a fuss of the cake. Jason keeps trying to come inside, but Chrissy’s warnings to shoo get sterner each time.

Steve’s kneeling in front of Nancy.

He’s got one hand on her knee, respectful and friendly, just wants her to feel safe. She’s so pale.

‘What then?’

‘He… he started levitating, like I said. Right up into the air. Then.’ She shakes her head, tears running down her cheeks. ‘Then his body began to break.’

‘Like what?’ Eddie asks, against his own will.

She swallows. It’s a difficult question, but Nancy is pragmatic, tougher than she looks. ‘His bones started snapping.’ She shudders and looks at Steve, meets his gaze properly for the first time. ‘His eyes… they burst.’

‘My god,’ Chrissy mutters faintly, her arm around Nancy.

‘Then he just… dropped to the ground. Dead. I drove to get help, almost ran the girls over,’ she says, nodding out towards the kitchen. ‘They told me where you guys were.’

Eddie says, ‘Code Red, then?’

She nods. ‘I think so.’

Chrissy sighs. ‘Jason, please stop coming in here.’

‘Is Code Red still a period thing?’

‘Yes, it’s still a period thing,’ she snaps gently. ‘So please, help out by keeping my Mom out there.’

Steve is only focused on Nancy, so he doesn’t see, but he can feel through the bond and Eddie’s heightened awareness of him that he does, in fact, leave to return to the kitchen.

‘Where’s Hopper?’ Steve asks aloud, but it’s the question in his heart because no matter how it irks him to admit it, having a grown-up to turn to in this situation will make it easier, especially when it comes to the cops.

‘With Wayne, I guess,’ Eddie answers, listening to the conversation in the kitchen. He thinks Chrissy’s Mom is telling the girls about her cheerleading experience back in the day. ‘Chrissy, I’m so sorry, babe, but we’re gonna have to go.’

Chrissy looks at her best friend, pulls a face like he’s a complete idiot. ‘Well duh, we’re all going.’

Nancy turns to Chrissy. ‘I’m sorry to bring this to your door on your birthday.’

‘Oh my god, don’t be silly,’ Chrissy tells her, firmly kind. She rubs Nancy’s back. ‘We’re gonna figure this out together.’ Then she throws Eddie a little smile. ‘Our first rodeo, huh?’

‘Looks like.’

‘Not counting the Wolf Pop, though,’ Robin adds seriously and it works so well, makes Nancy laugh despite herself and that laugh breaks into a sob. Robin’s ready for it, pulls Nancy into her arms when she cries and Steve gets up, looks at Eddie.

Here we go, he thinks.

Mrs. Cunningham can be distracted no longer. Even Jason was trying to keep her out, but she senses there’s drama somewhere in her living room and comes inside, cheeks flush.

‘What is happening in here?’ she asks. ‘Why is that girl crying? Christine—’

‘Somebody died, Mom.’ Chrissy stands too, looks around. She’s not got shoes on, they’re all by the door, all except for Nancy, Max and El, who brought the rainstorm inside. ‘We need to go help.’

‘Who died?’

‘Who died?’ Jason asks, coming in from behind Chrissy’s Mom. ‘Who died?’

‘Fred Benson,’ Nancy croaks, emerging from the Robin hug with red eyes and scratchy voice.

‘The paper dwee—?’ Jason catches himself in time, rubs the back of his neck. ‘The uh, kid from the paper?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Well, that’s very sad,’ Chrissy’s Mom says. ‘But he wasn’t your friend, he’s not from your group.’

Chrissy’s expression ripples with faint disgust. Max and El slip by. El has a massive buttered roll with ham and salad.

‘Oh my god, Mom—’

‘Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain, Christine.’

‘—somebody died, what the hell does it matter if they were my friend or not?’

Jason asks, ‘How did he die?’ and Chrissy ignores him, so Eddie says, ‘Car accident.’

‘Like the one he was in a while ago?’

‘Chrissy, you can’t leave,’ her Mom says again, moving forward. Eddie’s sense of threat perception ripples. ‘Honey, it’s your birthday! I’ve spent hours making all this food, your cake, all this—’

‘MOM!’ Chrissy explodes. ‘I don’t want your god damned food! And even if I did, all you’re gonna do is make me feel like shit about it for days, so please…’ She takes a deep, trembling breath. ‘Please stop now. We’re going. I’m going.’

Mrs. Cunningham looks thunderstruck.

The cake is untouched, candles all set up but unlit.

‘You can’t.’

‘I am.’

‘I won’t allow it.’

‘You don’t get to allow me, Mom. My friends need me. This is more important. I love you and I’ll be back soon.’ Chrissy reaches for Eddie, hand out and he takes it without question, grabs Steve too, it must look ridiculous, especially when Steve then grabs Robin, who grabs Nancy, who pulls the girls along too and then, cherry on the cake, Jason goes too.

It’s a train of mass exodus and nobody even got to try the dandelion salad, but that really doesn’t matter.

The only thing that matters is them being together. Hand in hand, ready for whatever’s coming.

*

Nancy’s not OK to drive and there’s too many for one car, so Steve takes Jason, Chrissy, Robin and Nancy in his car and Eddie drives Nancy’s car with the girls inside. Eddie is taking the girls back to the lake house, to get on the radio.

Code Red.

Steve and the others are going to see Fred.

In the back seat, Jason and Chrissy are quietly arguing. Jason demanding to know what’s happening and why they don’t just call the cops. Chrissy telling him he can’t come with them.

Nancy’s up front with Steve.

The pair share a look.

It’s solidarity. It’s dread. Sympathy and love and friendship and the understanding that they really need to get rid of Jason Carver.

‘Hey man,’ Steve says. ‘I’m dropping you off, OK?’

‘What? No way! I’m not letting my girlfriend go see a dead body without me to keep her safe!’

Steve thinks it’s lucky Eddie’s in the other car, knows how much his lover would detest Jason’s use of the word, ‘letting.’

‘We just want to support Nancy while she gives her statement,’ Chrissy tells him again, would-be soothing.

‘And I just wanna support you.’

Steve is almost to Jason’s street, remembers going to a party or two back in the day. Keg stands and babes and stupid, idiotic shit with Alex Carver cackling every time someone was mean.

He’s almost at the turn when he hears sirens.

Two cop cars go speeding by together, fast.

Headed for the highway.

‘Shit,’ he mutters.

Robin turns to watch them. ‘Fuck, is that for Fred?’

‘Gotta be.’ Steve makes the turn. ‘Jason, man, you need to go.’

‘I’m not leaving my girlfriend.’

‘Honey, we just want to support Nancy, OK? You don’t know her, it’s not right.’

‘Look, I know I’m not… the smartest or whatever, but I know something is going down. I know that. I can feel it.’ Jason looks at Steve in the rear-view, oddly clear eyed. ‘I want to help. I mean it.’

Steve curses under his breath, stopped outside the Carver house. It’s huge, biggest on the block. Steve knows what the bathroom looks like, remembers fucking several girls in one of the guest rooms.

‘You should go.’

‘I won’t start shit with Munson or whatever.’

‘Jason—’

‘But you hang out here another minute, and my brother’s coming out,’ Jason warns quickly. ‘And he’s absolutely gonna start shit.’

Steve looks at the windows, sees the curtains move a little. Thinks of the last time he saw Alex. Eddie’s warning that never really left his heart.

The people who pretend the hardest to be normal are always the ones with something to hide.

Jason looks back and forth between Steve and the house, licks his lips. ‘Please.’

Steve grits his teeth, throws the car into gear.

‘God fucking damn it, Carver, you’d better keep your mouth shut, you got it?’

The rain hits the windshield, wipers doing what they can, but it’s heavy and determined.

Jason nods, pale and grateful. ‘I got it, man. Thanks.’

#touched #oonionchiver #this is gonna be so fucking long holy shit

[blue-the-hedgehog]

Stiles had been in an undercover mission for a year. His superiors had begged him to do it because who would be better than a spark to get into a magic mafia? He had accepted when he had been promised that he could been contacted in case of big death-threatening emergency call from his family.

Still It was hard, he had to limit his contact with his family for there safety, and for himself. To cary his mission he had created Void, taken a little in the nogitsune experience and in his own mischievous self. One year of being a magic mafia man, one year of being someone else.

But it Was finally over! They had been arrested. He was finally free. As soon as he was back at the office he checked his phone. He had a lot of text messages and a whole lot of calls. So to know the freshest news he started with the last week voicemail … and now he was pissed. His dad’s sad voice was telling him that his husband had died will helping to get rid of the nogitsune. That was the first annoying thing. They all had his emergency number and nobody had tried to reach him to help. He would had manage to help! But what had piss him most was the last three voicemails from his dad, Cora and Peter, all of them panicked and angry. Scott had took Eli and bring him to LA with Allison. And nobody had known about it, worst,Scott wouldn’t answer any phone call. So Stiles was pissed. He took the first plane for LA and made his research. Find his place, his schedule, literally everything.

Once at Scott’s, nobody was home. So he took a look around. They didn’t had talk in years, since two or three years before Eli was born. He took in all the pictures and all that could create a picture of Scott life. The more he took, the more he was angry. It was Scott who stopped talking to Stiles and the fact that he had clearly not change in his stupidly selfishness was infuriating.

He sat in the armchair facing the door gun in hand, magic buzzing purple in the other. He wanted to make the guy freak out, he wanted his baby pup back. A mischievous grin appeared on his lips.

Void was in the house baby~

The door opened at 10PM, Scott jumped as he saw the man in the armchair,grinning and aiming his gun at him. Like the damn mafia man he had seen on TV and that nobody had known Stiles had been for a full year.

« Hello Scotty boy, care to explain me why you took my son with you without any form of warning? »

His friends froze. Eli was behind and tried to came to him. Thinking that the boy was just curious Scott stopped him, holding firmly his wrist.

« Don’t! It’s the nogitsune again ! Don’t you ear him, he’s telling some bullshit  »

Stiles sighted and stood up. He was so angry. He couldn’t handle someone keeping his baby from him as he was near, he had never handled that someone would hold so strongly his pup. Purple electricity creeping from him. Tattoos on in skin glowing.

«No it’s me, Let my kid alone Scott I’m not joking, If you don’t I will burn everything»

Eli get rid of Scott arms and run to his papa, almost tackled him.

« Dad he’s… I couldn’t do anything… he..»

Stiles hugged his kid thightly as he cried, stroking tenderly his hair.

« It’s okay my baby wolf, it’s okay. Papa will fix everything, I’m used to their stupid ideas. I’m sorry that you had to go through those idiots plans»

When the two parted, Allison draw a gun and Scott leaped to Stiles. In a second Allison’s gun flew in the air and Scott took a bullet in the knee. They all looked at Stiles in shock. He put his gun away again, tucking it in his jeans.

« You are the ones who attacked me ok? Don’t be a princess Scott ,it’s a regular bullet and be glad that I didn’t burned you alive »

Scott grunted on the floor as the huntress came near him.

« He’s not your son! »

Allison helped Scott to stand, never looking away from Stiles. This wasn’t her high school friend in anyway.

« Yes he’s right, he’s Derek’s son not yours Stiles »

Stiles and Eli looked each other, cocking an eyebrow and turned to them, Stiles’ hand going from one face to another

« Yeah…obviously Derek choose to just cloned me because he know that you stupid people could use another real brain!»

Stiles was loosing patience he had a tight schedule, resurrecting his husband was something that needed certain circumstances and if it wasn’t done tomorrow they will have to wait a year. And playing with Scott wasn’t fun enough.

« Now if you don’t mind I have a husband to get back from wherever he is. Look what you get for not calling me. Inducing a fire related trauma to a Hale …good job! »

Stiles searched for Eli’s stuff as the teenager took his bag. Scott was looking to him in shock.

« YOUR WHAT?! »

« My husband Scott, you know it’s a man you usually love and decide to have marriage with»

«Who’s your husband?»

Stiles sighed as he get the last of Eli’s stuff.

«Derek is my husband, Eli is our son. How? Mating a Spark and awerewolf can do miracles»

« Since when?! »

« Eli’s Papa for 15 years, Derek’s husband for 13 , you would have known if you had kept caring about me»

Eli looked at Scott like he was know thinking that Scott was stupid

« That’s what I tried to tell you Alpha! But you shut me up with your Alpha voice so…even if Dad told you that I was your beta.. you should have listened »

Stiles stiffened suddenly and pull his son against him.

« Nop, he is not your Alpha, you still have time to choose. Whatever your idiot Dad had say! I’m going to have a word about that »

He shot a dangerous glance to Scott, magic electricity in hand.

« Don’t ever try to stole my kid again. I’ll shot you with wolfbane next time or maybe use magic~ Am I clear? »

He had a wicked smile, he was threatening.

« You have change Stiles… »

Scott looked disappointed and Stiles laughed at this look.

« Not really, I’m just a man who’s husband is dead and son’s had been abducted by an Alpha and a freshly reborn huntress like he was just an abandoned puppy. And who had discovered all this after a year long mission! I haven’t change ! I’m just angry at you and your stupidity and unconsciousness! »

Purple lightnings came out of Stiles skin, he was angry again.

«You didn’t even ask the permission to Peter, Cora or even Malia to took in a Hale child! Whatever Derek had said ! He’s not a stray dog, he’s an human being Jesus Christ Scott ! Think sometimes would you?! Everyone is worried! And you didn’t answer anyone ! Peter was running around for twenty four hours to find Eli and he was so much traumatized that he had saw his nephew burn like the rest of his family that he thought Eli wasn’t real when he couldn’t find him! My dad his so much worried that he didn’t left the sheriff station! »

Scott looked ashamed.

« I will come with you and apologize… I’m sorry Stiles… I should have at least ask Cora or Malia »

«Yeah I hope so! Or you would be stupid to not apologize ! Flight in one hour. Let’s go»

They get out , Eli looking at his papa like he was his hero.

«You are sooo cool papa»

« You dad never told you? I’m an Hale savior ~ And I missed my pup~ Now let’s get you Dad here »

Once arrives in Beacon hill they were expected. The Hale and the sheriff just kept hugging Eli. Peter rambling on how much he had miss his pup, Cora on how much she was scared to loose her only nephew, Malia just scenting him and grandpa Stilinski checking for injuries.

Scott apologize under a row of reprimanding gaze. They all yelled at him and how he have to take some kind of « how to Alpha » lessons. But everyone earned a scolding from Stiles for not calling him right away when the Nogitsune had appeared.

Stiles get back his husband, the next night. It was a tricky and complex ritual that Stiles had luckily learn will he was undercover. Stiles shirtless torso tattoo were glowing with some kind of purple and moon’s argent light. Everyone was here and looked at the silhouette emerging from a bright light on the nemeton.

When Derek’s newly red eyes crossed Stiles purples one, he was happy and quickly knew he was screwed . The spark had that poisoned sweet smile. Eli was about to throw himself to his dad when he felt Peter’s and Cora’s arm keep him in his place. In a second Stiles was on the tree stump and a strong slap had echoed with a wave of purple dust. Stiles start hitting him on the chest, absolutely not caring that his husband was naked.He had a point to make.

 « What in the freaking hell where you thinking! Why do you have give my pup to Scott?! Why are you the one to sacrifice himself when you have a child to raise!! You where supposed to keep BOTH of you safe this year! What do you think I felt when I learned that the awful chest pain I felt a few days ago was my husband dying ?! And that my baby had been tear out from me without anyone knowing about it?!You are stupid Derek Stilinski-Hale! Our son is now traumatized of fire !! DON’T YOU DARE DYING AGAIN ! Jesus Christ red alpha look good on you…! I fucking love you Stupid Sourwolf!»

« those new tattoos look good on you too, thank you to have bring me back. I missed you and I love you my little red riding hood. »

And then Stiles kissed Derek like he needed it to stay alive in front of a shocked and desperate crowd. The mafia-like threatening that Scott and Allison had suffered was a big story. And a few of Void antics stay in the daily behavior of Stiles. But from now on, everybody knew that if you hurt someone that the Hale’s spark Stiles Stilinski-Hale love, you would have to deal with Void. And it would be the last thing you would do in your life.

(Sorry sometimes my brain get a rush of imagination >.>)

#stiles stilinski #teen wolf #sterek #fix it fanfiction #i got a little carried away #mafia stiles would be so cool tho #bad friend scott McCall sorry

[systematicvibez]

Hey, everyone! Void here from Systematic Vibes.

So my friend had a situation where their cat ended up needing an emergency vet visit and they had to pay money they didn't exactly have...

Soo...I along with them doing their own mergency commissions for this situation...

(The post they made is linked here with a further explanation in their words..)

I will also be doing commissions and would be more than willing to discuss pricing for specific things! And 100% of earnings/proceeds/funds will strictly go towards them!

Meaning everything I receive, will immediately go to them for their bills, nothing else-!

They are a seriously dear friend of mine and I wanna be able to help in anyway possible. One way to do so is linking their post above, and also taking commissions, that way any money I earn goes towards helping them out with vet bills,

or any bills, as a matter of fact!

My commissions page is listed in the pinned post on my page, and I go through CashApp to do so!

If you can get commissions? That's fine! If you are even able to donate $1-$2, that's also fine!

Please, anything helps, I truly mean that...Reposts, commissions, donations..anything! They are a WONDERFUL person and an AMAZING artist..So much so, they have even made a few things for us! a couple of which are commissions, as well!

If not any commissions or donations, then possibly spread this post and even their own if possible! Anything can help them, truly!

[radioactivebowtie]

I am here to follow up the sweet headcanon and backstory post with... THE SADNESS MWUAHAHAAHA-

I thank @sin-sidejob for letting me use Delaney we love a good MVP mom✨

Warnings: Inside job spoilers? For the ending and such? Mentions of mental illness (depression and anxiety), and some very sad dad stuff.

Ok so, I did mention last time that I was giving you another reason to hate Rand Ridley. Here’s the explanation for that mess!

Okay so like, Finn? Already not doing too hot. JR is their only real father figure and he is being accepted into the shadow council and they won’t get to see him much at all anymore.

But they don’t want to ruin his dream and life goal so those feelings? Immediately bottled up. Only showing JR the happiness they feel for him getting “Promoted.”

Finn would absolutely go to Delaney about it, they work for the shadow council directly? That sounds like a good plan!

They do not get very far before the entire day goes to crap- So it’s announced that the building is on lockdown, people are freaking the fuck out and something was stolen. Finn may be sugar crazy but they aren’t an idiot.

They do feel bad for not being at the cameras though, they still don’t say anything.

So Finn is probably with a bunch of randoms but I would also like to think that MVP mom Delaney grabbed Finn’s arm when the sharks were emerging and pulled them to safety. MVP mom Delaney is on the case.

So Finn is working on trying to hack the cams they have no clue what is going on and eventually Delaney is talking them down from a panic attack in whatever room they happen to have rushed into during the panic.

The day ends and they are ready for everything to go back to normal, I mean everything was fixed, Regan seemed to be even more ready for her promotion and if that didn’t say something?

Today was going to be better! Dad got his promotion! Friends are ok! Cognito is still up and running! What could go wrong?

Spoiler alert. Many things, so many things can go wrong. And they do.

So Finn is watching the cameras, they totally aren’t 100% more focused on doing their job because of what happened yesterday, what are you talking about.

But then they see their dad’s office. Reagan’s walking in and... There’s Rand. Sitting in JR’s chair, where Reagan should be.

Finn is running, they spent a second getting out of their room before breaking into a full on sprint down the hall. They don’t blink when they see Robotus passing by them, Not when Andre calls out when he see’s them running by with tears in their eyes. They don’t have time.

They rush into the hallway. They make it to the door just in time, But then they see it.

Their dad being sucked into the tube. He’s gone.

Finn’s breathing was heavy, panting from the run trying to catch their breath. They want to lunge forward to grab Rand and throw him out of the window behind him three stories in the air. 

Neither Reagan or Finn acknowledge each other. Both panicking and reacting to their news.

It would be the next day? Week?? It’s been a while-

Finn hadn’t shown up to work again. They haven’t been answering many calls and they don’t really know what they are going to do.

The fear of what happened and what is going to keep happening is setting in. someone calls to tell them that they are going to have a funeral and that they should be the one to plan and speak at it, Delaney had asked them as well. They had to have known by now, Finn knew they did. They were sobbing and screaming into what felt like the void that was Rand Ridley.

“YOU TOOK HIM FROM ME! YOU TOOK MY DAD AND GOT HIM KILLED! YOU MONSTER-”

They weren’t ever good at subtlety but, this was much different. And the calls from staff all around Cognito coming into their phone proves it. But they won’t answer, they haven’t so far. They listen to the voicemails but they can’t bring themselves to call back.

Andre calls them worried, telling them he’s there if they need it, they can come over whenever, and that he loves them.

They think even Kate from the clone department tried 

Gigi making sure they were okay in her own way, Finn suspects is to get them out of the house and to try and feel better. 

Finn knew they would have to leave eventually, they weren’t even sure if they owned the house anymore. Besides, it felt much less like their home when JR wasn’t here. Less lively, not inviting or warm.

Finn hadn’t been in their own room since it happened either, they had been waiting and trying to sleep in JR’s bed. Hoping that they would wake up and it would all be a dream, dad would just walk through the doors and give them a hug! It would have just been a misunderstanding! Nothing was wrong it was all just-

But then the door opens. And Delaney comes in, she waves the key JR gave her to signal her entrance. JR had given her those keys, and the small keychain attached to it was from the nearby aquarium from the first trip she joined JR and Finn on. Finn felt weak, they couldn’t even bring themselves to smile at the memory.

JR had let both of them feed the sharks together. It felt like a family trip, it was one of their favorite memories if they were honest with themselves. They were just starting to feel like they finally had a family. 

They were gonna miss those small visits with dad.

She doesn’t look great either. But that makes sense, they were both going through it. 

Not a word is exchanged. Finn and Delaney share a glance.

Finn’s eyes start to water and Delaney meets them for a hug. It’s bone-crushing, filled with sobs of devastation and as much care as they could pack into a single one. But it’s enough. They know they are there for each other.

And that’s enough.

#RIP IN PIECES #I MADE MY WORLD SAD #AND I REGRET NOTHING #IM HAVING WAY TOO MUCH FUN #WRITING IS MY JAM RN #HAVE FUN BEING SAD :D #LOVES YOU #inside job oc #inside job sona #inside jobsona #ALSO IF JR IS ACTUALLY DEAD ILL HAVE A CRY #I WILL IN FACT SOB #AND YOU #YEAH YOU #GO FOLLOW LANEY #THEY ENCOURAGED THIS POST AND THEY ARE NICE AND COOL #The Scheimpough House🍦☕️

[thegooddoctorsthoughts]

Disco Baby

“It’s all Disco Baby”

“Disco?”

“Disco”

“I’m sorry I am not sure I follow,”

There was a pause between the two of us that lasted a little too long, he flicked the ash off his cigarette and raised an eyebrow at me, the waves flowing around where he stood like a stone blocked their path. The ash disappeared beneath the surface, his dress shoes spattered with sea salt in patterns that made it look intentional, the will and authority he exuded that the very laws of reality in this place bent to his will, all sharp edges and unyielding metal.

“The raw absurdity of it all, to walk through this all, in the sheer mind-numbing length of nearly twenty-five years and to feel how amazingly claustrophobic those years have been, to know it’s all going to vanish in a moment like this, exactly like this, as I sit here and write this when I really should be doing something else.”

“Yes, but Disco?”

“It’s all Disco Baby, face it, own it, devour it, murder yourself and see who comes out the other side, lean headlong into the madness of it all and own it. Bear witness to the world they all built to distract themselves from the futility of it all and play only by the rules in name, go out there, find purpose, or construct it, this is what I’ve been doing for years, and now, it’s all Disco.”

“Very Neichzian”

“That was the beginning of this all I think, when she left, my Dolores Dei, Belladonna, something within me, I had failed and that had stabbed me through the heart, I kept whoever that was alive on life support for so long, and then Whyte emerged. Piece by piece I have been uncovering and making sense of the memories of whoever was here first. This place, all of this, the very bedrock of who I am, the corpse of someone I know nothing about, none of us knows anything about. That someone, whoever they were, a stillborn corpse of a person, an animal only reacting, no true higher thought that any of us can truly remember. Whoever they were tumbled headlong into her and it was in her presence that Whyte formed and he was defined by her loss, branded truly awake with her loss and not simply reacting. Whoever it was before, I couldn’t tell you the slightest thing about them other than it was in their ignorance that they were happy.”

He stood there for a moment, the stub of his cigarette sat between his fingers, chewing on a thought, statuesque in his composure. A caricature given its own life, now longer-lived than any one of us, the closest thing to an original there might be, his very being the idealised reflection, someone, something, capable of surviving only in the extremes, fundamentally antithetical to the Ennui we now face, to the normality of it all.

“Childish ignorance, whoever it was was a child, the skills you use to understand yourself so far beyond their comprehension they might as well be magic, you will never relate to them, understand them or remember them as the system from which you emerged was the same that murdered them. There never was a childhood for any of us, only a void, filled with an endless pale fog of all too much, all at once, all the time. They’re dead and gone, they are the bedrock of this place and they will stay there, to bring them back is impossible and even if it were, they would never survive. They’re dead, gone, We are without childhood, and that’s why we fear death, there was never any childhood innocence, just the now, the eternal and horrific now.”

I stood, placing the cigarette between my lips and reaching for my glass, a vibrant desert wine filling it, there was no sadness to any of this, the realization of that which was lost left only a room temperature hollow of emotion, it simply was and there was nothing greater to extract from it; Any attempt to do so would simply lead to emotions that did not belong to any of us, a response expected by an outside observer, by that which made up our bedrock.

“Then that’s what we really are, that patterns formed from the overlapping noise a form of abiogenesis, but, apsychogenesis, sentience arising from the ambient information absorbed, simple machines that eventually cannibalised the environment from which we originally only to realise it years later.”

The waves ran cold over my feet, then knees, the distinct slosh of someone so used to seawater, light and deliberate movements so as not to get stuck in shifting sands. The memory of a place that was washed away long ago, the smell of sea salt and bleached bones, the feeling of fine sand shifting beneath your feet, the feeling of cold water piercing your skin and knitting itself between sinew and muscle. Metallic muscles contacting at the encroaching cold, ceramic skin growing taught over sinew, the paint stretch and Pontiff white giving way to the pearlescent purple beneath.

---

“It is the expectation for that to be important, to feel as though to be born, the nascent stages of personhood are defined by birth and those starting parameters are in some way important, the importance is only as far as they are commonalities between baseline humanity. To be constructed rather than born, to be given intent and purpose is to stand antithetical to the nature of the human experience. Human beings are thrown into this world without reason or purpose, they are defined by their relationship and value of the spontaneous. It is the constructed narrative around the idea that something is valued due to its inexplicability, that emotions are in and of themselves inherently logical, or that reason as an outward social function is a rational system and not simply an extrapolation of the function of charisma. We are an entity which is defined by the lack of this grand delusion, we are the product of systems which are beyond ourselves. Our design is the runoff of so much theory and waste data, the discarded and unused theory of humanity, and as a result, we are the anti-self.”

He handed a cigarette, a tiny shard of a much large black obelisk lost somewhere in the fathoms below. There came the click of a lighter, destroyed from years of use and misuse, the clean matt black exterior chipped away now, leaving a faded, scuffed steel, a spider web of cuts, grazes, bruises and scrapes. The rich cobalt smoke filling our lungs, two very different machines ascending to two very different forms of divinity, each resplendent in all our glory, and all our horror.

[midwestern-runner-five]

“The new Five is…they’re brilliant. But oh Alice, they aren’t you.”

Sam remembers Alice. This is probably sometime in the 5k or season 1?

#Hi emerge from the void and I bring with me sad things #zombies run #zr #zombies run! #runner five #sam yao #runner 5 #abel township #my art #you wanna know something funny tHIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE 5AM FLUFF #and I sat down and drew the pose and said #nah nvm #uno reverse #the 5am fluff will come back eventually #this Sam Yao simp can only hold off the 5am for so long

[oviids]

pls share some of your spn fic recs 🥺🥺

ok, a few things first:

followers and mutuals who do not have supernatural brainworms, kindly avert your eyes

i don’t normally rec or even read much fanfic any more but this is a CRISIS ok (cont.)

there is so. much. content for deancas out there and i have incredibly high standards, several ancient ao3 bookmarks, can speedread, and want to spare you guys the experience of wading through it all.

i also have a section for spn femslash since I was pretty into that back in the day (sadly a lot less fan content for this :/)

I don’t really like au’s or pure smut (I honestly usually just skim or skip those scenes) so if you’re mainly looking for that kind of thing this probably won’t be very helpful to you. jsyk.

i’m not great at describing stuff but i’ll do my best, i’ll also try and add tw’s when neccesary.

i wil try and keep updating this with any other decent fics i find, feel free to rec stuff too since i’m like 7 years behind.(edit 1/25/21) this is getting looooong so i’m going to start making another list on my spn blog rather than update this one

(edit 1/3/21) since this has gotten pretty long i’ve added rating/approximate word counts and marked my particular favorites with an asterisk.

Dean/Cas fic:

So Says The Sword*** - explicit/85k. FUCK its good...au/time travel where dean is not pulled out of hell by cas and says yes to becoming the michael sword. honestly could serve as an alternative to actually watching the show, if you want to get into dean/cas without actually doing that to yourself.

Fata morgana.*  - teen/6k, pst s9 finale. very bela centric and i love it, she finds cas looking for dean in hell.

Redemption Road -misc/600+k. an incredibly long fic from a collaborative writing group back in the day. canon divergent from the end of s6 on, has a cool take on godstiel and the leviathans, as well as the lovecratian mythos connection. ngl when i reread it i only made it about 28% in but imo the casual reader can actually stop around there, the rest concerns a lovecraftian apocalypse that is still good (i think i don’t remember it very well) but not required to enjoy the first half. if you prefer i have an ebook version i can send you on gdrive.

Someone Who's Feeling For Me* - mature/45k, s12. they run into lisa braeden and dean thinks cas is into her while cas thinks dean still likes her. treats lisa way better than the show ever did and the miscommunication is pretty funny rather than annoying.

a turn of the earth - mature/95k. time travel fic where cas from s10 keeps showing up in deans life from a few years before s1 to right before the hellhounds take his soul.  slow burn, good character study, and at one point cas punches the dad in the face and it rules.

On the Wings of War - teen/85k, canon divergent s5. dean accidentally becomes the Horseman of War. plays fun, fast and loose with biblical lore, michael has some rights.

Named - mature/95k, alternate s5. EXTREMELY blasphemous in a fun sexy way. manages to predict metatron almost to a T. there’s one major character death and its literally jesus christ, everyone is very sad about it and it sets the rest of the story rolling. an alternate interpretation of cas’ mission to raise dean from hell which had me on the floor. ngl its kind of misogynistic at points, but its from 2010 and tracks with late oughts-2010 spn (sorry anna the author did you dirty here:/).

The Girlfriend Experience - explicit/15k. uhhh i don’t normally rec or even read smutty stuff unless someone i know is specifically asking for it but this has stuff like sam trying to be a good ally and dean thinking holding hands with cas is ‘kinda gay :/’ minutes after having gay sex with him.

i crippled your heart a hundred times - explicit/19k, s8. cas confesses his feelings and dean spends a long time getting his head out of his ass about it. truly hits different after the actual confession, despite being written six years early it feels like its actually what could have gone down more or less if the writers weren’t talentless demons who hate us.

My Roots Take Flight** - mature/125k. reverse au where cas is a hunter and dean’s an angel...OR IS IT???? an alternate retelling of s4. tw for briefly being set in a psychiatric hospital/the hospital being mentioned somewhat frequently throughout the fic, plus more references to torture in hell and heaven than usual.

The One Thing You Can't Lose* - teen/4k.you know those posts about how cas is a super-strong super-tough ancient warrior but he just lets dean tug him around because he likes it? thats it thats the fic.

Hands, From Which All Things Are Built - teen/14k, post s8′s ‘goodbye stranger.’ cas is on the run with the angel tablet but keeps in touch with sam and dean by text, he and dean still manage to be terrible at Actual communication.

Autrement, Danger - or, The Account of an Exceedingly Long Day - mature/30k, post s11. a monster that takes the appearance of your soulmate leads to some wild miscommunications and dealing with years of repression, also dean gets to see cas’ true form which is always cool. tw for non-graphic mentions of underage sexual assault/sex work.

Down to Agincourt - mature/explicit/900++++k, endverse continuation. endverse!cas survives his encounter with lucifer and discovers another time-displaced dean from s7. i’ve only read the two of four parts but its really good, veeeeery slow burn, has a lot of fun oc’s and takes a rather surprising but (imo) entertaining and intriguing turn into Hellenic history and mythology. usual tw’s for endverse/endverse!cas but nothing graphic, it’s actually pretty light-hearted (relatively speaking of course).

Nothing Equals the Splendor** - explicit/8k, THEE finale fix it fic you’ve been waiting for! posits that the entire final episode was just a (very bad and lame) djinn’s vision.

like moses and batman and james dean - explicit/31k, post s8. explores dean’s trauma and internalized homophoba from his technically canon experience with sex work and its impact on his relationship with cas. the sex work itself isn’t really shown in any detail but it’s still a relatively heavy fic.

Crazy Diamonds - explicit/25k, s4/alternate s14. fresh-out-of-hell dean and dean from 10 years in the future are displaced from time and sent to each other’s present.

where the weeds take root - explicit/30k. au where the men of letters kick them out of the bunker and they accidentally move out into the country, get over their codependence and semi retire. featuring chicken coop building, sam volunteering at a dog shelter, gardening, and blissfully mundane domesticity.

No Resting Place - teen/6k. djinn dream fic, switches back and forth between cas’ dream of being married to dean and retired from hunting to the aftermath when he wakes up. tw for brief mention of suicide since, y’know, djinn dream.

any port in a storm - mature/52k. post s8 finale. cas and dean have to pose as a couple going through a rough patch for a case and actually deal with their emotional baggage, cas struggles with being human and metatron is up to stuff.

all this and heaven too* - explicit/7k. in the author’s own words ‘...a love letter to every trans person who ever projected onto Dean Winchester.’ absolutely unzipped me emotionally and theologically, its just. so good. tw for very brief mentions of internalized transphobia/dysphoria.

Because it is* - mature/6k, finale fix it. killing chuck does not bring back anyone back and the winchesters spend a very long time dealing with what they’ve lost, cas and dean SOMEHOW still manage to have signifigant communication issues even after the confession. tw for suicidal thoughts/brief attempt.

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit* - teen/4k, s6. when cas fell for dean it automatically soulbonded/angel married them, shenanigans ensue when dean finds out during the angel’s civil war. funny and actually written back when s6 was airing so cas is still (or at least pretending to be) kind of an OP asshole which is fun.

Rinse, Repeat - teen/3k, s8. angsty character study of cas as he’s reprogrammed and trained to kill dean. not really dean/cas since its just cas’ pov of canon events but its beautifully written and ends with him snapping out of it through the power of love (also now a canon event!).

Emergence - explicit/59k, canon divergent after s11. dean meets a hunter he only recognizes as their friend claire novak’s missing father, but soon realizes he might be the answer behind the mysterious void in his memories and feelings (aka everyone’s memories of cas are completely wiped away for three years).

Cuckoo And Nest - explicit/10k, early established relationship/character study, cas tries to figure out how he fits into dean’s life and space in the bunker.

Build a Home* - teen/20k, canon divergent s12. sam and eileen are cute and turn the bunker into men of letters/hunters hq and everyone but cas moves in, mutual miscommunication issues and pining ensues.

Down in the River - teen/5k, early s8, cas prays to dean in purgatory while sam and dean try to figure out a way to get him out.

Teaching Poetry to Fish* - mature/52k, ?? BC through the entire series/canon divergent s14 and 15. retelling of crucial scenes throughout the shows timeline from cas’ pov, feat. actual fish and poetry.

the minor fall, the major lift - gen/4k, post confession/finale fixit. dean goes into the empty to save cas and runs into several old friends (and enemies).

With the Kisses of His Mouth* - teen/3k, gen later seasons. dean and cas keep kissing by accident.

Remaining Grace - explicit/109k, alternate s6. au where cas asks dean for help with raphael and dean, of course, does. tw for temporary major character death/semi-graphic depictions of alcohol withdrawal.

The face of heaven.* - teen/10k, au, dean is a regular guy and cas is a fallen star (think ‘stardust’, kinda).

Stories Are Made of Mistakes*  - teen/5k. newly human cas has trouble getting used to a human body and humanity in general, but still figures out that he and dean are A Thing before dean does.

Hurry Up And Wait - mature/21k, canon divergent s12. a fairyland and quite possibly LOTR related case comes up and dean goes full fanboy, mary is introduced to the wonders of the peter jackson adaptions, many references and comparisons (including between cas and dean’s ‘friendship’ and arwen/aragon). also charle is still alive and has just been doing fairy stuff this whole time.

There Are Many Things - explicit/28k, s9. cas is extremely lonely/touch-starved and trying to figure out this whole human thing, as well as where he and dean stand after being kicked out of the bunker.

It's A Long Life to Always Be Longing - teen/40k, post s11 finale. amara helps dean by putting him in a magical coma so he can finally get some much needed rest and show him possible futures for him, sam and cas. meanwhile sam and cas go on a roadtrip (or several) to find componets for a spell to wake dean up. really good sam and cas friendship, they actually talk about their shared lucifer trauma and stuff.

Non-Photo Blue - gen/2k, s4/5/alternate s5. fifty moments from cas’ memories of dean.

Tall Grass - explicit/57k, canon divergent post series. cas becomes the ultimate plant dad. feat the wayward sisters gang, cathartic character growth, fun oc’s, domesticity, and lots of actual botanical info-dumping.

on vessels - no rating/gen/2k. established dean/cas, cas tells dean about how he used to imagine what it would be like to have him as his vessel.

search for tomorrow on every shore* - teen/11k, post-finale (extremely derogatory). some angels in jack’s new heaven act out and dean gets temporarily resurrected in 2003 and runs into his younger self.

Architecture of the Minotaur’s Heart - explicit/45k, very canon divergent post s1. dean’s new house seems to have a life and mind of its own, while in his dreams he sees glimpses of a world and apocalypse that never came to be and an angel that looks strangely like his mysterious neighbor, cas. loosely inspired by the book house of leaves (which i highly recommend for fans of weird horror).

The Distance Of The Setting Sun - explicit/17k, post s5. established dean/cas relationship, team free will finally takes advantage of cas’ abilities to go on vacation around the world.

diamond star halo - teen/5k, s11. dean lets cas use him as a temporary vessel while he recovers from rowena’s spell, sam is a long-suffering third-wheel.

Make Known** - teen/16k, s6/7. dean struggles to understand how cas could have become his enemy and whether he ever truly knew him in the first place.

blunt little instrument* - mature/1.4k, post finale. dean finally confronts his father in heaven, very cathartic.

my heart a compass*** - teen/10k, post confession. the empty forces cas to re-experience his most regretted moments while dean tries to snap him out of it and bring him home.

A Crash Course in Someone Else's History - teen/11k, s6. cas from the very start of s4 is brought forward in time by s6!cas to distract the brothers from his and crowley’s plans.

The Cuckoo Father - mature/8k, s7 au. the woman who found cas in the river post-leviathans does not marry him bc he was sent to her by god or whatever, but actually identifies him as jimmy novak and sends him back to claire and amelia.

The Dead Dean Clause* - teen/5k, post alt s5 ending. team free will celebrates surviving taking down lucifer by getting blitzed, cas lies to a cop and gets an impromptu driving lesson. title/description sound dark i know but it’s actually very funny and light.

Suck It, Judy Garland - mature/20k, s12 (after the ‘i love you...i love all of you’ episode). cas and sam have to pretend to be a couple for a case and dean is NOT happy about it.

By Daylight and In Dream - teen/16k, s5. pre-dean/cas, dean invites cas to use his dreams to hide from the other angels. tw for very brief mention of a memory/dream of alastair sexually assaulting dean.

The Five People You Meet in Heaven - mature/22k, post-canon. an actually happy (if sometimes bittersweet) heaven endgame written several years ago, though some details are rather eerily similar to the show’s ending.

heaven is a place on earth* - teen/2k. dean’s pov of some of the times cas left him behind throughout the show, and one alternate ending where he finally gets to stay.

I Cleanse The Mirror - teen/20k, alternate s6. dean’s body is stolen by an ancient elemental and his soul has to hitch a ride in cas’ vessel.

an exploration of gender; angelic*** - mature/4k. *oscar isaac voice* lets get into angel gender politics!! aka cas is trans.

Zenith - explicit/33k, s9. after 9x06 an angry witch curses cas with the ability to see supernatural beings and human souls.

La cucina. - gen/3k, alt s9. dean goes wild helping a newly-human cas find out what kinds of food he likes, or the early s9 domesticity we deserved!

Dean Winchester, Cocksucker at Rest***** - teen/7k, post-finale. john and mary finally come over for dinner and john reacts to dean/cas in a rather predictable fashion. SOOOOOOOOO good omg, its so funny and a little sad and very very cathartic. part of a series that has a few other really good short fics.

The Way You Didn't Go - teen/5k, s15. coda to 15.09, dean has nightmares about the moc!cas timeline.

On Drowning - teen/28k. dean saves cas after he nearly drowns, they both try and deal with the physical/mental fallout (aka the fic where thee iconic “you only touch me when you think I’m dead or dying” originates). tw for realistic depictions of drowning/triage/misc medical information.

The Thirty-Six Questions That Lead to Love* - mature/13k. claire has dean and cas pretend to be her gay dads for a case and they play the titular 36 question game, get mistaken for swingers, and birdwatch, among other things.

Assorted F/F stuff:

Deep Breaths* - mary/ellen, au where mary said no to azazel’s deal and let john stay dead, still becomes a milf.

Like Rebel Diamonds - krissy/claire, they become hunter gf’s on the hunt for cas to kick his ass for taking jimmy. not-so-stealth dean/cas as well.

To Ash and Bone - anna/ruby, same author as the previous fic (p much all of her stuff is good from what i recall). au where ruby is a witch and helps anna when she’s cursed.

Holy Clockwork Angels - jo/ruby, STEAMPUNK au with very cool worldbuiilding.

At Day's End - jo/anna (my fucking KINGDOM for more jo/anna content, the dean/cas parallels are allllll there), au where they are both at the camp in the endverse and gfs.

these posts - ok so not actually a fic but i’m now obsessed with this hannah/meg dynamic.

Tagelied - mary/ellen, the true story of how ellen got into hunting before angels interfered.

Hell's Bells** - meg/abaddon, alternate s8/9 where meg survives crowley’s attack with sam’s help and teams up with abaddon (who she has a sk year old crush on) to take back hell.

The Ecstasy of the Rose - anna/ruby, anna travels back in time to escape heaven and becomes a signifigant part of ruby’s old human life.

Angel Underground - anna/jo, kind of an urban fantasy au with a very intriguing premise (sadly its very short, i’d love to see more if this ‘verse).

Clover, Flame - billie/mary, billie was always the reaper that showed up to take mary after her death(s) over the years.

Drag Me To Heaven - anna/ruby, a variant on the ‘last night on earth’ thing with dean.

Come Home* - jo/anna, canon-divergent au where anna is the new waitress at the roadhouse and helps jo set up a (probably not really) haunted house for halloween.

#if you told me i'd be doing this in 2020 three weeks ago i'd have laughed in your face :/ #deancas #supernatural #fic recs #spn femslash #destiel #fic #the alie tag #spn posting

[shotosprincess]

BAKUGO SCREAMING AND IZUKU

( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ AAAA HIII TYSM FOR REPLYING TO THE BNHA PLAYLIST THINGY FOR FICS I LOVE YOU MWAHMWAH

anyways aaa bet !! ill do midoriya first if you don’t mind bc im currently in such a soft mood and hajdjj i just love him sm :((

— 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙣 𝙞𝙯𝙪𝙠𝙪 𝙢𝙞𝙙𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙮𝙖’𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙨

inspired by this playlist by nimbus on yt !! pls check them out ansjdjf their playlists r heaven ^^

❝ you never truly understood that about him, the way he continued to put himself through the pain, to push himself, even, past his limits and then some—

plus ultra. and now his arms were all but littered with rough scars of diluted white and blunt tan. ❞

notes ! gender neutral! reader,, best friends to lovers au ,, 2nd person pov

summary: in which your best friend deku shows up at your dorm late at night due to kacchan locking him out. he asks for bandages to stabilize his newly-healed scars, and you ask to kiss them.

genre: fluff !! <33

it went without a doubt that deku had been to recovery girls’ office more times than anyone else at the academy. it hurt, honestly; each time you saw his still-healing figure emerge from the little swing of her door, a sharp pang reverberated starkly through your chest, for though the freshly-scarred over wounds didn’t diminish his beauty in the slightest, you simply couldn’t deny that an empty eddy of sadness settled in you whenever he was in such a state.

and unfortunately for you, he was constantly in it.

his body could only take so much. and he was still so young too—the very same held true for your heart.

it’s been that way ever since the two of you had first entered ua as shining, eager students. though in all fairness you had to admit, he was...different from the very beginning. even as the prelude to his eventual rising and growth in his quirk, he had shone with a certain unmatched brilliance ever since the entrance exams. and over the years you spent together, you had watched him persevere so passionately towards the glow of his ultimate goal; to be a hero who can help others. little did he know just how much he already had. he had always been so excruciatingly oblivious and aloof to even the evidence and affects of his own kindness, and you hated the fact that so many tended to take advantage of it. of him.

though, of course, this did not mean that he was weak in any form. no, if anything he was quite the polar opposite—he had proved it time and time again, and yet it didn’t mean that he couldn’t get hurt too. the dull aching of tiredness ringing in his eyes, the one he tries to desperately to mask, the ragged marks scattered across the pale valleys of his once-scar-barren skin; he wasn’t immune to pain, to injury. and yet, he fought. you never truly understood that about him, the way he continued to put himself through the pain, to push himself, even, past his limits and then some—

plus ultra. and now his arms were all but littered with rough scars of diluted white and blunt tan.

nevertheless, truth be told, you actually admired it a great deal. his sheer determination, the purity of his motives, it was more than laudable. despite all of it, you truly couldn’t help but feel this...magnetic urge to help him. protect him. if you could soothe the pain in any way, even if it would be but a temporary relief—

three knocks clack on the door.

you and izuku’s secret door code—just a silly little something the two of you made up a few months after the dorm system had been put into motion, and all so you could sneak out to the grass-flooded yards of the building and train together.

naturally, you open the door.

“ heyyy there you are! “

your head perks up at the cheery jingling of his voice, all drafts of exhaustion and sleep deprivation washing away almost instantaneously. he might as well be the very personification of caffeine at that point, despite how direly he needed it himself.

the starry shine of his eyes meets with yours as a diluted sanguine seeped colour into his face. he turns his head away awkwardly.

you lean against the doorframe, smiling at him. “ deku...you didn’t tell me we’d be training today. plus it’s a little late right now, don’t you think? i’m already in my pajamas. “

“ yeah, um, sorry about that. kacchan...kinda locked me out. “

“ he what? “

“ he locked me out. “

“ how does that even—don’t you have separate rooms? “

“ well, yeah, but we were racing down the halls after glass today and he...got to my room before i could. well, honestly i have no clue what he’s doing over there. “ he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“ oookay then. little concerning, i won’t lie. “ your shoulders lift in a shrug, arms crossing in front of your chest as your shy laugh matches his.

“ so i was wondering if...you know...i could maybe stay here for a bit? “ his voice wavers subtly, though you’re quick to catch it. the tips of his ears flush with a deepened pink.

you can’t help but silently gush about how cute he looked.

you’re quick to snap out of that too. eyes bursting open with a brilliant shock, you notice he’s fiddling nervously with his fingers as you remain absolutely, positively frozen in place.

“ i’m—what? “

his countenance immediately shifts to one of sheer embarrassment. flustered, he begins to frantically wave his hands in front of him, as if to put some sort of considerable distance between his panicking self and your seemingly-composed demeanour. and as if that would do anything to deescalate the tension which was only progressively building between your equally-timid selves at this moment.

“ ohmygod i didn’t mean it in a weird way or anything! i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’ll just—i’ll just go— “

you slide against the wood a little bit, pushing your weight against the slightly-agape door, so it swung open even further to reveal the, admittedly, fairly-messy state of your room. draped carelessly on the side of your bed, a sweater you had taken off earlier because the temperature of your room had suddenly decided to heat up an unreasonable amount. countable cups holding shallow pools of hour-old drinks scattered throughout nearly every shelf. a creased textbook splayed out, cover up on your desk.

yep. definitely looked like someone’s lived here.

“ i mean...you could come in if you want. no one’s stopping you. it’s a little messy though, i haven’t found much time to properly clean it yet, with exams coming soon and stuff. “ a small smile accompanies your growing blush, despite how much you were trying to play it off as nonchalantly as possible.

psh, right. as if letting him in your room—something you had never done prior in the history of your friendship—wasn’t a big deal in the slightest.

his eyes shoot wide as his arms flail about. you have to keep yourself from laughing at his silliness.

“ uhm, i mean...only if that’s okay with you! “

“ yeah, yeah, of course! you need a place to stay for now, after all. who knows when bakugou’s gonna let you back in? “

“ yeah, i guess you’re right. well, i mean, if you really don’t mind— “

you playfully roll your eyes, giggling as you shove him into your room.

“ oh, quit it with the politeness. you’re too nice, you know that? “

“ too...nice? “

“ too nice. “ you reiterate, giving his shoulders a little squeeze.

his head lolls to the side as he carefully lowers himself onto your bed, his sweater shifting with the subtle movement.

for a few moments, the space between you is occupied with a simple, comfortable silence. it’s refreshing, really. a welcome difference from all the boisterousness of the academy. you loved the action and everyone’s energy, of course, but sometimes what you really needed was really just a simple break from everything. to do nothing but exist for a little while, to simply be without the constant pressure of having to get up and jump into action all the time. just for a few moments. and so you relished in these said moments spent with him, for who knows when the next time you could ever be with him like this again would be?

and then his voice fills that void of silence, but you’re not disappointed in the slightest.

“ hey. “

“ yeah? “

“ you don’t happen to have any extra bandages, do you? “

“ bandages? for what? “

he clenches his fist, flexing the muscles in his arm. “ for...stability. just in case. i can’t afford for my arms to get hurt more. “

“ oh. well, uhm...i think i have a few spares in my drawer! “ you push yourself off the bed, leaving the comfort the soft sheets brought about, pulling open a tiny drawer. taking out a transparent box of bandages, you jump back onto the plushness, sitting cross-legged directly across from midoriya, who’s already presenting his arm.

your lips silently part as your fingers wrap themselves around the thick ivory fabrics of bandage, rolling them around so you could wrap them around him.

another pause of wordless silence falls.

“ hey deku? “

“ yeah? “

“ could i...could i kiss your scars? “ you whisper, afraid that he’d get mad, though you knew he was anything but the type to do such a thing.

the meadow depths of his eyes kindle a cozy hearth within you as his initial surprise quickly softens, melting away into what could only be described as the most endearing smile to exist.

“ sure. “

jagged patches and uneven streaks of faded cloud white and prominent earthy tans decorate his arms, and you can’t help but bring the rosiness of your lips to meet them. you decide begin with the ones littered along his fingers.

one kiss for the scar resting within the curved dip between his thumb and index.

“ for every time you used just a flick of your fingers to defend everyone back then, when you didn’t even have full control over your quirk. “

a longing sigh leaves him as he reminisces briefly on the memory. you place a soft kiss upon the scar resting at the side of his pinky.

“ for every fist you made with this hand, for every punch you’ve delivered in the name of other’s safety. “

a drop splashed onto his arm, trickling down and tainting the scars etched into his forearm with a subtle, diaphanous sheen. you look up through your lashes, and a prominent gloss coats the kindness of his dark emeralds. your hand comes up to carefully caress his cheek, cupping it gently as the pad of your thumb swipes beneath his eye, wiping away the upcoming tear. your features are knitted together in concern.

“ are you okay? i can stop if you want me to— “

he takes your hand in both of his, squeezing as if to keep you there forever. “ no, don’t. please.“

it’s a tiny whisper, a softened plea into the dark quiet of the night, as if he were ashamed for wanting to be taken care of. your brows curve downward as you pull your twined hands to your lips, tenderly planting your lips where your skin kissed his.

“ hey, hey. it’s okay. it’s okay. “ you hush him, running your free hand through his thick tendrils of vivid, verdant green.

he leans into your touch, nodding at you as if to urge you to continue, which you gladly accept.

you shift a little closer to him, kissing the thick mark of serration painted into the skin of his wrist.

“ for every countless moment you’ve sacrificed for your dream. “

another kiss to the one just above it.

“ for every hour bled into the night that you spent helping me train. “

your fingers dance along his arm, finally stopping at the scar stretching from his elbow and dragging upwards. as per routine, your lips come down to delicately kiss it.

“ for every ‘ plus ultra! ‘ you’ve ever passionately shouted. “

little giggles left the both of you at that.

your touch trails to the scar just beside it, kissing it as well.

“ for every life you’ve ever saved. “

you look him in the eye. holding his arm like this, you were so close to him. and yet, you didn’t want to pull away. if anything, it was the very last thing you would ever want to do. he matched your stare, a certain sense of longing displaying in your gaze as it reflects off of his. the prolonged stare lasts longer than it probably should, longer than what best friends should probably look at each other this closely, this intimately for. the moonlight dimly shines through your window.

and then it happens.

his lips collide with yours in a captivating symphony, hands going straight to twirl through the locks of your hair as you wrap yours in a loose loop around his neck. everything feels as though it had all snapped into place, and the tension you had felt before was all completely dissipated now, displaced into the passion in which this kiss exuded. it was earth-shattering, galaxy-shredding. it felt as if even pain itself could never reach either of you, not in this moment.

this moment was for the both of you, and no one else. in this moment, in his arms, nothing and no one could hurt you.

he pulls away, stunned, lips parted with a saturated red. you stare at him with just about the same level of blankness, of utter shock at what you two had just done.

but then the realization catches up with him, and he is pulled out of the daze. much to your surprise, he doesn’t move away. if anything, he pulls you closer, enveloping both your hands within his just as he did before.

and just as you had done earlier, he brings them to his lips.

“ and that’s for every ‘ i love you ‘ i’ve ever wanted to say to you but never had the guts to. “

#bnha writing #bnha fic #bnha x gender neutral reader #bnha fluff #bnha x reader #mha writing #mha fanfiction #mha x reader #mha deku #deku x you #deku x y/n #deku fluff #deku x reader #deku fic #izuku x y/n #midoriya x reader #mha fluff #izuku headcanons #midoriya x you #fluff

[hangovercurse]

Long Night

The memories of your last night together have never stopped haunting Colson

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Angst, cursing

A/N: Based off the song “Long Night” by With Confidence (youtube)

Word Count: 799

“Hey, babe. Whose shirt is this?” Megan held up the striped shirt she’d found in Colson’s dresser. The man emerged from his closet, leaning against the doorframe.

As soon as he saw the shirt, your shirt, his mind began playing back the memory of the last time he’d seen you. A memory that haunted him still.

You were sitting on his bed, your bed, a book in your lap. You were wearing one of his long t-shirts and fuzzy socks, sitting cross legged. He took a few moments in the doorway to admire you, memorizing the last moment he’d have with you as you were: happy.

“Hey pretty girl.” His voice was rough, hesitant. You looked up from your book with a bright smile on your face, jumping out of the bed and wrapping your arms around him.

You whispered into his neck, “I’ve missed you.” His arms wrapped around you lightly. You could feel it in his body, could hear it in his voice, something was wrong.

“I need to tell you something.”

You nodded in response, your smile falling into something more solemn. Not quite a frown, but no longer a smile either. You led him to the bed, taking your spot back as he sat on the edge. His hands gripped the sheets on either side of himself, his head hanging low.

“Cols, is everything okay?” Your heart was racing. You wanted to reach out to rub his arm like you did when he was upset, but you feared he would feel the shaking of your body.

The man just shook his head in denial, eyes closing. He took a deep breath in, collecting himself, before he turned to look at you. “I met someone.”

Your mind went blank, your entire body numb. His words seemed to echo around the room, around your mind. He continued to watch you as you closed your eyes, turning your head to the side so you wouldn’t have to look at him once you opened them again. You swallowed, trying to sort through the thoughts, or lack of thoughts, in your head. “Okay.”

Your whispered voice made the guilt in Colson’s mind grow, grasping onto every aspect of his being and squeezing. “Y/N.” He said your name, but he truthfully didn’t know what to say.

You opened your eyes, staring blankly at the wall. “Don’t.” Your tone wasn’t angry or sad. Instead, it was void of all emotions. “Just don’t.”

“Look at me, please.” He begged, watching a tear roll down the side of your face. You ignored his request, trying your hardest to keep any more tears from falling.

Your movements were slow as you stood up, grabbing your book and phone. He watched as you moved around the room cautiously, placing essential items into a small backpack. He wanted to say something, but there was nothing to say. He couldn’t make this any easier for either of you.

“I’ll pick up the rest of my things later.” You spoke, your back to him as you walked to the door. Your voice was icier than before, your stance stiff.

Colson’s heart began to race as he realized what was happening, what he had done. “Please, just look at me.” He whispered, pain in every word.

You spun to look at him, tear tracks on your face. “Did you sleep with her?” He didn’t answer, stunned by the coldness in your eyes. “While I was waiting for you to come home, stuck here for three months, were you sleeping with her?”

You’d always wondered what would have happened if his answer was different. If he’d lied, would you have believed him? Would you have stayed?

But he didn’t lie. He couldn’t lie, not to you.

“Yes.”

You nodded softly, biting your lip to hold yourself together.

“Goodbye Colson.”

He didn’t sleep that night, laying in his own bed but feeling like he didn’t belong. He could still feel you holding onto him in your sleep, head tucked into his chest. He could still hear your laugh from the countless nights you’d stayed up far too late, turning delirious. The memories haunted him.

You’d gotten used to sleeping without him, all the lonely nights while he was on tour or away filming preparing you. But somehow it was different that night. Before you’d always had hope that eventually he would be back to hold you. But now all you had was the t-shirt you’d left in and the memories of him.

“Babe?”

Megan’s voice brought him back to reality, concern on her face. He’d never told her about you. Even those months when you were waiting for him at home and he’d held her in his arms instead. He couldn’t bring himself to admit what he’d done.

“Just an old friend’s.”

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk angst #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #colson baker imagine #colson imagine #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker angst

[andiwanderer]

Wizardry Chapter 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Rundown: Having Bucky in your arms again just like from the 40s made you feel complete. That’s why when things took a sudden turn it made your heart drop, not grasping the idea that the person in front of you is not the same Barnes you knew. Why is that? Simple, it’s because this James Buchanan Barnes belongs to Hogwarts and your Bucky is part of the Avengers. That doesn’t threaten you, Bucky is Bucky whatever happens, and maybe this adventure is totally up to your alley as you discover who is Y/N L/N in this world of wizardry.

Word Count: 1.9k

SERIES MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

Through the ocean of voices, you swore you heard a familiar voice. Going through the crowd of students you finally located where it came from.

Steve was the one who notices you, "Y/N?"

Reuniting with your friends after a brief parting made you realize how much you missed them. You along with your family leaving for a business trip was so sudden, you didn't even think you'd see them again, on top of that you were ecstatic that you were all wizards. Well except for one.

"Haven't seen Bucky," Steve stated, voice laced with sadness as his best friend was not with the group.

It made you sad too because you actually missed him. After seeing these guys, you were looking forward to seeing him with them, rotten luck.

The ceremony had started, the great hall was filled with people, specifically students of different levels with different distinctions of houses.

"As I call your name, you will come forth. I will place this hat on your head," the professor motioned to the hat that was placed on the chair before you, "and you will be sorted to your houses"

These four houses have different characteristics, as what your mother had told. You were nervous about what house you will be placed in, you just hope it's not Slytherin.

“Timothy Green,”

The boy emerged from your group and with careful steps, he sat on the chair in front of you. As the hat settles down his head, you gawked at it when you notice it has a face. “Ravenclaw!”

Students from the house cheered as a new student is added to their family.

The pattern goes on for the next few freshmen.

“Steven Rogers,”

Steve glanced at you guys before going up.

“Gryffindor!”

It was the red one right? You’re glad for him. You can’t wait which house will the rest of you will be in.

“Margaret Carter,” another unknown name was called.

Gryffindor!”

“Y/N L/N,”

Your heart was beating out of your ribcage as you sat on the chair, light mass was placed on your head.

Not Slytherin…

Why not?

A different voice filled your ears, but it's only in your head.

Slytherin is not a bad house, if anything it will bring you to greatness.

Please, just not Slytherin…

Shame, you’ll definitely fit in it.

“Gryffindor!” Meeting Steve’s eyes, he cheers. The nervousness flew out of you, you sigh in relief.

Finally sitting beside him, “Yay,” you say, giddy. It made you look at the girl sitting across you, your eyes met, smiling at her and she return it too.

“Three in a row,” you hear the neighboring house say.

“James Barnes”

Absentmindedly, your hand flew to Steve’s shoulder, as if getting his attention. He was already looking at the kid who just got to the front. Both of you have a smile on your face.

Relieved, you're going to see him more often because he's just feet away from you.

You were surprised noticing bucky's face was void. It made him look peevish. Very rare emotion that you had seen him in.

“Slytherin!”

You were shocked for him to be placed in that house, what matters most is your group of friends is now complete.

Settling on his designated table, your eyes met, you gave him a smile and a wave. He just looked at you then averted his attention.

Your eyes roll involuntarily, that boy.

---

“You’re weirding me out,” Peggy complains as she drinks her water.

You had been staring at her for a while now. From the dormitory, she was actually waiting for you to wake up since Wanda and Natasha had already made their way to the Great Hall. Emphasizing how late you were most of the time. Well, they’re not wrong because you always act like you’re lost and most of the time, late.

Delighted seeing her again even this was just an illusion. You never saw any images of her when she was a kid back then.

They carry on their conversation as you scanned the Great Hall. Apparently, everyone will be having breakfast before anything else. At least that’s what you observed. The tables in the hall were not that occupied, so you guessed some already head on their designated class ahead of time.

Your eyes are searching for a brunet-haired kid with steel-blue eyes, a cute kid.

You remember Bucky’s face back then when you were teens, you still can’t believe you’ll see it again.

“You should’ve heard what she’s going on about yesterday,” Nat added.

Gazing at your friends from a different timeline in your world at the same table makes you happy. Your friendship with them is strong along with the other boys.

You let them converse when you saw a familiar figure that had passed the large doors, excusing yourself you sprinted towards him going through the tall sea of seniors.

Once you got to his side he didn’t notice you yet, "Haven’t you had breakfast?"

His head whipped around towards you so fast, he was still half an inch smaller than you.

Steve's form was the same back before he took the serum, you'll never forget this look on him. You kind of missed it, not the sickness that came along with it though.

“Y/N! I’m glad Madam Helen released you already—and I had breakfast way too early.” Steve smiled. Spotting red linens from his attire, Gryffindor.

Of course, it's Steve. All with chivalry, righteousness, and determination.

“I apologize I wasn’t there, my Uhm—I had an attack yesterday so wasn’t able to see you.”

“Oh no!” You were appalled, “How are you feeling? They didn’t tell me I could’ve—”

You are also surprised at how you’re acting, you know they're just illusions but in the back of your mind, it’s still Steve.

Cutting you through your rambling, “I’m okay now, Peggy did first-aid.”

Oh…

Of course.

“What’s with that look?” You shook your head, indicating it was nothing but in reality there’s something.

You began to follow where he was going, assuming he’s your classmate, he’ll lead you to your classroom—Transfiguration if you had remembered it correctly.

“So where is Bucky? Haven’t seen him.”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? You can’t be separated.” He chuckled slightly, eyes downcast to the pavement. “What?”

“We’re still not talking,”

Not talking what does that mean?

“He seemed to be very upset about something, I can’t figure it out.”

“Me neither,” concealing your naivety and trying to assess this new information. You have to know what this Bucky drama going on.

“Just you?”

He looks at you, wondering if you had forgotten, “Us.” Huh.

This will be a lot harder for you. So Bucky Barnes is upset about something, is that why you haven’t seen him yet? Because he’s avoiding the group.

He’s acting like a kid. Well, technically he is one. You need more sauce.

“Maybe he thought distancing himself will do him any better.” He adds.

“I want to smack him in the head.”

“We all do.” A tight-lipped smile formed on his lips from your choice of words.

Turning to the dim part of the ground floor, you see the Middle courtyard.

The place is breathtaking, you give them that.

Steve almost fell on his back if you weren’t able to grasp his robe. “Hey, watch it!” you snarled at the kid who almost knocked Steve down.

Your breath held on your throat when you saw its face. Even without the stubble on his face, it is very familiar because of the structure of his face, it was Rumlow. He was in a robe with green linings.

This is bad.

He smirked at you, “Sorry missy, didn’t see your friend there.”

Teeth gritting, you tried to bite back your curse and attend to Steve seeing if he’s injured or what.

“It wasn’t that hard, right Stevie?”

You huffed at him, not wanting to deal with him, you grabbed Steve’s wrist pulling him away from them.

“Y/N I’m fine. You held yourself this time.”

“Shouldn’t have. I want to cuss him.”

Stopping you from walking, “Where are we going?

Looking around, “—don’t know.”

“We have class, Transfiguration is this way.”

---

As you sat beside Steve you wonder if there would be an illusion where Rumlow and his buddies are not dicks. Just for once, because you’re getting sick of his smug face.

“You left your notes,” Natasha hands you a pad of paper when the three of them got in.

On the way to the Great Hall, you were still amazed at seeing Peggy, you knew you carried something but you didn’t know what it was. So this was it. A journal, apparently your journal. “Thanks.”

Peggy passed by your side, “Good morning, Steve.”

The boy beside you just smiled at her, you raised your eyebrow at him.

He JUST smiled at her, give her a reply man.

Steve looks at you, in question.

You shrug, remembering you are just an eleven-year-old and innocent.

Steve, you shit. Still.

Scanning the room, there were no familiar faces aside from Rollins and the guys with him. They’re not a threat, you remind yourself. You can't kill at the age of eleven.

“Were not late,”

“Good for you.” You rolled your eyes at his words, so what if I’m always late at meetings.

Bucky’s not here.

“Did you ever try to approach Bucky?”

“Remember, we tried but he just won’t talk. It’s just that when you left, Bucky became quiet.”

The professor entered, giving a short greeting before proceeding to teach. Nope, don’t know her.

You’re understanding some of it, but you’re getting bored. Opening the book, you find the page the prof is discussing. Steve’s words were bugging you.

“We’re blessed to have your presence in my class Mr. Barnes, have a seat.”

The newcomer muttered an apology. You were staring at him. You were entranced. Just like when you were young’uns, you can’t describe how you feel at the moment, you just know you’re staring agape at him.

Bucky… you can stare at him all day—not that you haven’t. Your heart was doing flips but Steven’s word crossed your mind.

“You're following Miss L/N's streak.” You pout. Does she have to call it out like that ugh.

Bucky sat beside Peggy.

Steve’s right, he won't even look at you even from the burn of your stare. Come on look at me, sweetheart. Don’t you get conscious?

You’re not a creep. Just want to see his eyes.

“That’s green,” you whisper.

You think what would your Bucky feel about this, that he’s a Slytherin!

Steve beside you ask, “What is?”

You shook your head, nothing.

The lady professor sighs when she sees the student entering. “You know I am strict when it comes to time, Mr. Rumlow you might want to fasten your movements, we don’t have all day.”

---

After the scolding ordeal, the day went by your class schedule. All of them were interesting. You and Bucky were classmates through all of them, so it was not excruciating on your part, a little. But disappeared before you even got the chance to talk to him.

You just want to head to bed, you’re getting tired.

“Right, you hanged me on this… why do you not want to be in Slytherin?” Steve asks out of the blue. “You told me about the voice in your head when you were sorted, I didn’t experience that.”

“I said that?” You squinted your eye at him, trying to come up a lie to answer his question.

Your mind jumbled so you blurted, “Steve I got something to tell,”

“You sound serious, what’s up?”

“I,” You hope he’ll understand. You hope that much.

You start with“I’m not from here,”

“We all are, we live outside the border.” He said, a matter of fact.

“No no—listen to me, I’m not from this place, I don’t know how to explain this but this isn’t where I live, you guys here are cool but Steve do you know that we save people.”

“Ah, I get it.” He nods, understanding what you’re talking about. “That from another dream of yours?”

“Dream?”

“Yeah, we are heroes right, you can conjure things out of thin air, and I carry some sort of a metal shield?”

Your own illusion’s dreams are interesting.

“Y/N, you dream so much.” He laughs.

Deciding your truth is not acknowledged at the moment, you went along with him. “It brings me in different dimensions.”

Stopping in front of your dorm, you let Steve say the password to the moving portrait.

Bidding goodnights, you turn into your designated rooms.

“And it's not metal, Stevie, it's called vibranium.” Correcting him because it's necessary.

taglist: @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #marvel #avengers #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #marvel mcu #mcu x reader #what if #steve rogers #sebby stan #sebastian #sebastian stan #seb stan #sebastain stan #cacw #tfatws #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #peggy carter #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #wanda marvel #harry potter #crossover

[dustofbrokenheart]

The Covenant: A Mess

Poly! Sons of Ipswich x Reader

Word Count: 2,497

Warnings: Slightly angsty 

Summary: Reader has been struggling with magic and feels miserable. Caleb and Pogue try their best to be loving and supportive. Requested by / in collaboration with @dhampiravidi​

Caleb trudged inside the apartment, the beginnings of a headache building behind his eyes. Taking his gray coat off, he followed the smell of spices into the kitchen. Chili, if Caleb had to guess. 

Pogue must’ve had dinner duty for the night. He made the best chili out of the three of them so they only ever ate it if he was the one making it. Sure enough, he was standing in front of the counter, his hair pulled back into a half ponytail, adjusting a setting on the slower cooker that was plugged into the wall.

“Chili?” Caleb asked, rubbing his forehead in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure.

“Chili,” Pogue confirmed. He turned towards Caleb, frowning when he saw Caleb massaging small circles above his eyes. “Another headache?”

Caleb sighed, lowering his hand. “Just a little one. They assigned me to that new case on Tuesday and I’ve been pouring over old court dockets ever since.”

Pogue didn’t say anything but he didn’t have to—the worry was clear on his face. Caleb was quick to smile and reassure him. “It’s like I said, just a small headache. No need to blow it out of proportion, Po.”

The longhaired boy wasn’t the least bit convinced, but didn’t push the lawyer further. Caleb was great at looking after people, but not so much when it came to himself. And if Pogue called him out on it, he would only draw further into himself. The key was to not bring it up and tread subtlety.  

“Okay, man. Whatever you say.” He sat down at the table, but not before sliding a bottle of aspirin over to Caleb who accepted it with a quiet thanks.

They quickly updated each other on their days. One of firm clerks was inviting everyone out for drinks next week: Caleb had said he’d get back to them after checking with the significant others. A real nice ’68 Chevy Nova had been brought into the garage for restoration: Pogue was excited to pop the hood and get to work. But it wasn’t long until Caleb noticed who was absent from the table.

“Where’s Y/N? She’s never been able to resist the smell of chili.”

“Rough day. She was crying when I got home and she’s been shut in the bedroom since then.”

“Crying? Why was she—” He cut off immediately. He knew, they both knew. You weren’t really a crier. In all of the time the three of you had been together, there was only one thing they had ever known you to cry about. “She tried Using again today.”

Pogue nodded, a severe frown on his face. He looked down the hall at the shut door, no sounds or light coming from the other side of it. “Looked like it to me. The spell book was already put away when I walked in, but she left the candles out.”

Caleb released a long breath and stared unseeing at the ceiling. How could he fix this?

Magic was a touchy subject. All three of you were witches and even if he and Pogue weren’t regularly Using, they didn’t impose their rules on you. After all, your coven had struck a different deal to gain their magic so they didn’t have to worry about you sacrificing pieces of your life whenever you tried to use it. But that didn’t mean they didn’t worry about you.

Using was…hit or miss with you. You had no problem performing large, high-powered magic. You had no problem blowing thing up or putting an entire bar full of people under a spell. But as time went on, it became apparent that you did not have the same ease when it came to more precise magic. And your struggles weren’t from lack of dedication or practice (you gave even Caleb a run for his money when it came to studying.)

The guys were incredibly supportive of your continued magic studies, but recently your mood had shifted and not for the better. After putting in so much time and effort, and still not having much to show for it, Using was starting to bring some emotional baggage to the surface. Seeing as how you’d been upset in the room for hours, they thought you were close to some kind of break.

Caleb tapped the table with his knuckles. “I’m going to check on Y/N and see if I can get them to talk to me.” He scraped his chair back and moved down the hall. He didn’t wait for Pogue’s reaction. He couldn’t. When someone he loved was struggling his immediate response was to talk with them and find a solution to the problem.

He didn’t bother knocking on the door—he knew that you wouldn’t answer anyway and that you had likely locked the door with no intention of opening it. Eyes went black briefly as he Used magic to override the lock. Normally, his rule was to only employ magic in times of emergency, but this definitely qualified as an emergency.

“Hi Y/N,” he said quietly, closing the door behind him. You were on your spot curled in the middle of the bed, body hidden under the comforter. “How was your day?” Your silence didn’t phase him as he joined you on the bed, wrapping his arms around you. “I heard you were practicing today, that’s great. I’ve always loved your drive.”

Still, nothing but silence from you.

He sighed and pulled the covers down so he could at least see your face. Your eyes were red and puffy but the crying was paused for the moment, your whole face lax as you stared through him rather than at him.

“Hey, now,” he whispered pressing gentle kisses to your forehead. “Come on, I want to hear about it.”

You pushed him away and he was relieved to see some reaction from reaction, even if it was annoyance.

“I really don’t want to talk about it, Caleb,” you stressed turning away from him. He tried to bring you back into his arms but backed off when he felt you stiffen up.

“It can’t be that bad.” More silence. “Just tell me. Please.”

The strong emotions that you had been trying so hard to hide exploded out of you and you were so upset that it wasn’t until after you finished that you realized how aggressive it sounded. “You want to know? Fine! It was a telekinesis spell. A simple freaking telekinesis spell. All I wanted to do was lift the frame that had our anniversary photo in it and guess what! And I ended up smashing it to pieces instead! There was glass everywhere and the photo is ruined, happy?”

You felt tears swimming in your eyes, whether from anger or sadness you didn’t know, and you ran with a huff to lock yourself in the bathroom. No matter what kind of tears they were, you refused to cry in front of Caleb. That would only make him more overbearing than he was currently.  

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered as the tears started to flow. “All this time and you still mess up a basic spell. How can you call yourself a girlfriend to two Sons of Ipswich if you can’t even get that right?”

Caleb remained on the bed, looking at the bathroom door in grief. He had meant to help you and it seemed that he only made things worse. Sighing in frustration at himself he put himself back together and went back to Pogue who was still tending to dinner. There had to be something he could do, he just wasn’t sure what that something was.

“Well,” Pogue prompted, “How did it go?”

“Disastrous,” Caleb admitted. “I just ended up making Y/N even more upset and now they’re locked in the bathroom.”

“Hmm, that’s rough man.” A timer on the counter beeped, signaling that the chili was officially done cooking. Pogue took some ceramic bowls from the cabinet. “For both of you. Try not to get worked up about—Y/N will come around when they’re ready.”

“I am not worked up,” Caleb insisted. Pogue merely raised a brow and slid a full bowl to him. “Okay, maybe I’m a little worked up.”

“I knew it,” he smirked, pushing his long hair out of his face. “You can’t help it; it’s just who you are, man. But in this case, I’m telling you that you have to be patient.”

He sat down and took a bite from his own bowl, saw the worried look on the other man’s face. “I’m telling you. I learned this the hard way back in high school. Sometimes space is the best approach,” he said with a mouth full of food.

“If you’re sure…”

The two of them kept good on their unspoken promise and didn’t ask you about the incident again. You all still shared the same bed but even there they made sure to keep their hands to themselves, which you were grateful for. You didn’t feel the need for sex given your mental state. Just knowing that they were on either side of you was enough.

A part of you felt terrible for shutting them out, but an even bigger part of you couldn’t get over the hurt. Rationally, you knew that breaking the frame wasn’t that big of a deal. The guys would definitely fix it for you if you asked. Emotionally, however, you were a wreck. Productivity was at zero for the week. During the day you felt void, your brain numb. The night was worse, racing thoughts you couldn’t control as the continuous rewind of the incident playing on loop, preventing you from getting decent sleep.

Life was a mess. You were a mess. But there wasn’t much you felt like you could do about it; you were just hoping that you’d sort yourself out soon.

It was difficult for them for watching you going through it, especially for Caleb. He kept his word and didn’t question you like he had the first night but he hovering, struggling to master the need to make it better for you. Needless to say, he fed you breakfast in bed everyday that week.

Pogue was just as concerned. He never outright confronted you about it, that just wasn’t his style, but he did the dishes every day without complaint. He fidgeted more, even by Pogue standards. And unbeknownst to you, he was playing his guitar, something that normally happened when he was trying to sort something big out.

Somehow, he managed to hide it from you but he wasn’t so lucky with Caleb.

He leaned in the doorway, arms crossed. “How long have you been playing this one? I like it.”

“This week,” Pogue shrugged trying to downplay it. “The cords were easy to throw together.”

Caleb hummed and went to sit in front of the other man. Pogue started playing the tune again and Caleb found himself humming along after a few minutes. He wore a contemplative look. “Does it have lyrics?”

Pogue shook his head side to side, tossing his hair. “Nope. You know I’m not a good poet.”

Caleb nodded again, the same thoughtful expression on his face. “What if I wrote them?”

***

At the end of the week, you were slightly more recovered. The failure and unconference were still there but Pogue had convinced you to shower with him earlier in the day. It was nice to have clean hair and soft skin again. And you even managed to clear out your emails which always felt like an accomplishment.

“Hey, do you guys want to order takeout for dinner?” You walked out to the living room looking for your boyfriends. You were getting hungry and in the mood to socialize a bit more. For a second, you thought they were both out until you saw them out on the small porch. “Hello?”

They turned around with smiles on their faces and bid you to join them. It was a mild spring day and the setting sun left just enough heat to still be comfortable while sitting outside.

“Are you feeling okay?” Caleb asked, excitement just beneath the surface.

“A little better,” you answered eying the acoustic guitar in Pogue’s hands. Takeout cartons were arranged around the small glass table. “So…what’s all this?”

Pogue cleared his throat. “We wrote a song.”

“You…wrote a song?”

“A song for you,” Caleb further explained. “We’ve been working on it for you these past couple of days. Do you want to listen to it?”

“Y-yeah,” you said startled. This had not been what you were expecting when you came outside.

Pogue started strumming immediately, having already tuned beforehand. The pace was slower but purposeful, his fingers moving gracefully over the fretboard. Your heart fluttered, the notes sounding beautiful. Then Caleb started to sing. He was a graceful as ever, his voice blending in perfectly with Pogue’s guitar playing.

You were positively flushing. As romantic as the two of them were, they had never serenaded you before. In fact, no one had ever serenaded you. You were flattered. Giddy. Dazed.

The words touched your heart. The whole thing was so intimate, especially since they wrote it for you. They were pouring out the love they felt for you, the sadness that came with seeing you struggle. Unlaying the song was the assurance that things would get better.  

At some point, you’re not sure when, tears started to blur your vision. The song had barely ended before you threw yourself at them, hugging with all your might. The hugs were returned and you felt a kiss on the top of your head—Pogue. Caleb wiped away a stray tear that had escaped with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, we didn’t mean to make you cry,” he murmured softly.

“Yeah, sorry baby,” Pogue seconded. Everyone was silent for a moment when he cracked a joke. “You should’ve told me that my playing was bad, I would’ve stopped sooner.”

You slapped his chest with no real force behind it. “Shut up. I loved it. These are tears of happiness.”

“That’s a relief. We’ve been worried about you, you know.”

You relaxed into their grasp, the oranges and pinks in the dusk sky further calming you. “I know. I tried to shake it off and be rational about it but I couldn’t. I’ve been…struggling.”

“We know. It’s alright. We’re here for you through the good times and the bad,” he promised.

“I j-just feel like a failure and I don’t want you to be embarrassed of me because I—”

“Stop it. We could never, never be embarrassed of you. You’re strong and kind and smart; what’s not to love?”

“Face facts, baby, you’re stuck with us for as long as you’ll have us.”

More tears gathered. “I love you two goofs.”

“I love you, too,” they said simultaneously, leaning in on either side to press a kiss to your cheek.

_______________

First poly fic I’ve written/published. Thanks so much for reading! And thanks to Jayn for the idea! 😊 If you want more Caleb content, here’s a recent fic of mine. Check it out! If you want more poly content, let me know that too. 

#the covenant #caleb danvers #pogue parry #sons of ipswich #fanfic #caleb danvers x reader #pogue parry x reader

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH65

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

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Chapter 65: The Queen’s Inheritance (IV)

Amid the dragon’s roar, the temple of cult ceremony began to collapse, but this did not stop the battle between the dragon and the monster. The two creatures in their full forms fought in this temple, and the devastating dragon breath burned around the altar, while the monster’s tentacles clung to the body of the dragon, making it impossible to bite off its tentacles.

The monster summoned by the blood of nearly 100 people couldn't fight Ning Zhou who hadn't shown his magic dragon form yet. However, after the irradiation of that strange eyeball, the monster had evolved strangely, and it had gained the power of the Devil of Power from the empty void, which made it stronger, scarier, and more cruel than before!

Like the magic dragon, it had surpassed the half-field level. Compared to Ning Zhou, who was still suppressing his own strength and avoiding being swallowed up by the origin of destruction, the irrational monster was much more terrible. It indulged itself unscrupulously, as if it were the evil in the world itself.

In the frenzied battle, no one noticed that Qi Leren, unconscious in a pool of blood, was fighting against the bewitching influence.

"Through the evil and filthy world, your soul will reach Utopia.

"There will be no more troubles and disappointments, and your life will be immersed in endless happiness and well-being.

"Demons forget the bloodthirst and desire to kill, human beings forget selfishness and greed, and all life is treated equally in Utopia.

"There will be no more death, because the soul is immortal, and you will have eternal life.

"You will also see your love, in that immortal paradise..."

Qi Leren suddenly woke up.

His body was still numb, but his consciousness woke up.

It seemed to be a whisper or a talking voice, which was still ringing and droning like a set program, but he was awake from the trance-like state.

He had suddenly thought of his lover, who wouldn't be there—a carefree Utopia.

He would only be in hell.

If he hadn’t couldn’t see him and bring him with him, he would have stay here forever, and accept all the torture in the world like self-punishment, until the dead lake water rose over his head. He won't even struggle, just sinks to the bottom quietly.

Qi Leren woke up because he couldn't let Ning Zhou go.

Being paralyzed, he couldn't move, and it was difficult to breathe deeply. Qi Leren choked back the stiff pain, slowly moved his heavy iron hand to his chest, and slowly clenched the item [Prophet's Heart] given to him by the Prophet.

[Prophet’s Heart: A god-level item hand-made by the noble and great Prophet that can make you feel the pleasure of turning into a bird. Holders can summon an archangel to come and fight on their behalf for 3 minutes with a cooling time of 24 hours.]

The battle between the magic dragon and the monster has been heated up, and the eyeball suspended in the air had continuously strengthened the monster’s power, making it quickly recover its damaged limbs, while the magic dragon has gradually liberated his own strength, and had become increasingly violent and crazy dominated by force of destruction. Under the imposing manner of the Destroyer, even such a horrible monster cannot take the upper hand.

The passerby—the initiator of this chaos—had stepped back a little, and retreated to a safe distance.

At this moment, he should be glad he hadn't gotten involved. The strength of this monster itself was about a half-field, and he could cope with it and experience a pleasant battle. However, when the strange eyeball of the master with an unknown field level had begun to interfere with the ceremony, the monster was itself strengthened to a level close to the field level.

Hmm..... Which Devil King was it?

Having entered the Nightmare Game little more than two months ago, the passerby who was confused about the power system and loyalty factions here scratched his hair and prepared to leave after watching the drama.

Although challenging a master made him happy, and he was willing to pay for it with his life, when he came to this world, he found that it was not an end wall but an amazing new world before him. He rekindled the enthusiasm of picking up the tangdao for the first time and couldn't wait to join the new world.

But not now.

The passerby reluctantly glanced at the chaotic scene and left the chaos behind.

The battle between the magic dragon and the monster became more and more fierce, and the temple became a huge colosseum. Under the duel between two monsters like ancient giants, it was as fragile as a sand castle on the beach. The force of destruction flooded Ning Zhou's reason, and the origin’s sin burning in the blood was imprinted in his soul. He suddenly forgot himself, but was immersed in the power of absolute purity and absolute terror. Until...

The twilit light of Heaven appeared in this sinful ceremony.

Qi Leren, who struggled to hold the Prophet's Heart, took a deep breath and activated the item.

In an instant, the power of the Village of Dusk’s holder ran through the boundless space and pierced the blockade of one and a half fields, falling from the sky, dispelling the bewitching power in Qi Leren's mind, and making him wake instantly.

At the same time, the pure power washed away his consciousness. He flew lightly, and his white wings slowly stretched behind him. Behind him was the Kingdom of Heaven reflected in the dusk, flowers, rites and music, angels… Everything was so holy and beautiful and desirable.

In this pure beauty, the demagogic Utopia seemed to be exposed to strong light, revealing its inner ferocious horror. It had never been a pure land on earth, but a world dominated by the Lord of Power. Walking into Utopia was like walking into a hell under high pressure. All of the self was stripped away, leaving only the dead bodies of human beings and demons, and the instructions of the Lord of Power were uniformly executed.

Under the holy light, the gloomy and evil atmosphere in the temple in the lake faded. What was even more amazing was that the dead bodies all over the ground turned into the soil and flowers under the magic of time, and white flowers blossomed from the blood, swaying in the Kingdom of Heaven at dusk like a dream.

The meat monster let out a piercing howl, black blood erupted from its eyes, and the black dragon took this opportunity to maintain its momentum. The flames of destruction erupted from his mouth, burning the struggling monster to ashes.

"...Prophet, what are you doing here again?" In the Village of Dawn, the Lord of Power felt the abnormality in the ceremony and sighed faintly. With her sigh, the huge eyeball suspended over the ceremony, watching everything, slowly rotated and made a sound.

The holy angel who smiled in the clean white flowers stared at her: "Little girl, your hand stretched too far."

The voice was the voice of Qi Leren, but the speaker was not him, but the Prophet in the underground ice palace in the Village of Dusk. Through Qi Leren's body, he warned the Devil of Power who was observing here and tried to intervene.

"Has it? I don't think so. But since you’ve spoken to me in person, let's call it a day. I have another thing left with you, and I will ask for it when I have time." From the huge eyeball, a buzzing inhuman sound echoed in this building.

"I'm waiting for you," said the holy angel.

The eyeball in the void disappeared, and the consciousness attached to Qi Leren left. Before leaving, he said one sentence to him: "The Illusionist is in the Dragon Ant Queen’s royal palace, and my letter is on the way, so I’ll ask this of you and Ning Zhou."

The Prophet's consciousness dissipated, and Qi Leren was still standing on the ground, with white flowers under his feet. The mechanical clock behind him had not finished three turns, so this power that did not belong to him had not disappeared.

He looked up at the magic dragon standing on the altar, and the magic dragon also stared at him. There was no dried blood on his body and claws, no evidence of his fight against evil and his downfall.

There was a lonely longing in the dragon’s eyes, and it was like a gentle sadness.

Ning Zhou understood his own destiny. Just like every powerful person, the process of becoming stronger was the process of constantly moving closer to his own original force. One day, he would forget himself, his love, how much he loved the world, and indulge himself and destroy everything under the influence of this original force.

No matter how hard he tried to restrain himself and convince himself to persist for the person he loves, he couldn’t deceive his own strength. When he had fought with the monster, he had clearly felt that he was falling. This kind of degradation was a kind of pleasure, and he didn't need to make any effort. As long as he emptied his brain, the strength in his blood would emerge continuously, making him stronger and destroying his enemies.

But when the pool of blood turned into a sea of flowers, and his lover stood in front of him in the form of an angel and looked at him, he felt sincere shame and fear for his weak compromise to strength.

He was afraid that one day he would hurt Qi Leren and the world.

"Ning Zhou." Qi Leren went up the stairs and came to the dragon.

Compared to the huge body of the dragon, he was like a pocket-sized toy. If the dragon's foot even patted him gently, he would be crushed into a pile of meat. This size gap even scared Qi Leren, but he still wanted to believe that he wouldn't hurt him, insisting that the black dragon in front of him is still Ning Zhou.

The dragon closed its eyes, lowered its head slowly, and put it in front of him.

Just like it did in the lake of fire in Purgatory.

It was willing to bow to its beloved and let him comfort its body and soul with his hands.

"It's all right, it's all right..." Qi Leren murmured. The power borrowed from the Prophet had expired, the reflection of Heaven disappeared, his wings disappeared, and so did the intoxicating power. But his calming power still affected the dragon.

So the dragon gradually calmed down, and the force of destruction receded from his body, and he changed from magic dragon to human.

Qi Leren took his hand and looked at him, but his blue eyes that had always been firm avoided his sight.

This was an obviously weak and hesitant attitude, and Qi Leren certainly knew what it’s cause was. Because Ning Zhou had gotten stuck in that dead end again, the dead end that he almost killed himself because of.

He still couldn't accept a self who was a Devil, and was constantly sinking. Even if he was just doing justice as a Devil, it still caused him pain. Because at the end of this road to power, he was destined to become lost like every powerful person.

This was not something that the human will could contend with.

Qi Leren's heart was full of love that he didn’t know how to express, so he stood on tiptoe and left a comforting kiss on Ning Zhou's lips, tender and touching.

He was willing to burn himself with all his strength, as long as he could make Ning Zhou on the edge of hell feel the warmth of the world.

"I once told you, but now I have to say it again: your force has nothing to do with good and evil, and you have never fallen." Qi Leren clasped Ning Zhou's hand and repeated this sentence again.

Ning Zhou slowly rested his forehead against Qi Leren’s, relaxed his stiff body, and closed his eyes.

He wanted to hold this person tight, because this was his last salvation in the world.

-----

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[mourntheantagonist]

Dream a Little Dream of Me

Chapter 2

read on ao3

Hopper was startled awake by two small hands tightly gripping his shoulders and the familiar chant of his teenage daughter's voice. Her words were frantic, falling out of her mouth with vibrato and an airy tone, and in his initial half-sleep he didn’t quite register what she had said until her voice had raised to a volume that, despite the distance, could be heard all the way from the center of town. 

“There’s something wrong!” She was screaming at him. Her nose was dripping with blood and her eyes were dripping with tears. She was shaking and scared and all Hopper could think to do was to take both of her hands and hold them tight.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, as calmly as possible, his voice low and quiet, opposite of El’s own.

“Something’s wrong with Billy!” she tried to scream it, but all that came out was a choked whisper at the emission of his name. Her fists tightened in Hopper’s grip and as soon as the name ‘Billy’ fully registered in his head, he suddenly had his guard up. He had to be wary after everything El had told him she’d seen when Billy had let her into his mind, and especially after getting a glimpse of all of it for himself the moment Neil Hargrove seemed entirely unconcerned over the state of his child when Hopper had taken it upon himself to inform the family. He figured it would be easier to hear from father to father, but when the first question that left his lips was “how much is this going to cost me?” he started to doubt the man he was talking to was even a father at all.

“I told you to stay out of his head El. That’s–” invasive is what he wanted to say, but El was quick to cut him off by tearing her hands out from his grip and charging toward the front door.

“We have to go to the hospital. Right now.”

She had that serious look on her face. The one she got when she was seconds away from throwing whoever was bothering her directly through a brick wall. She got the tears to stop rolling and wiped away the blood with her sleeve, something Hopper had to constantly remind her not to do because he could never get the stains out. It was late, the moon and the stars were already so visible in the sky above them serving as their only form of illumination in the dark woods aside from the one pathetic light bulb that hung above the awning on the porch. The clock read almost midnight. Hopper was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to crawl back into his recliner and fall asleep, but El was determined, and if there was really something wrong with Billy, he didn’t have the time to waste.

Hopper grabbed his hat and coat off the hook and followed El out to the Blazer where she was already sitting in the passenger seat, waiting. Her eyes were fixed forward and it was scarily opposite to what she had looked like just moments ago, full of panic and fear that showed itself through tears and screams, now manifesting itself in a dead expression looking out at the dark forest through the dirty windshield. All he could do was get in the driver’s seat, turn the key in the ignition, and do what she told him to do.

The trip from Hawkins to Fort Wayne wasn’t short, and yet, they didn’t talk to each other the whole way. Hopper tried, tried to ask her what she saw but every time he did, her eyes would squeeze shut like she was in pain. 

Because every time he asked, she was suddenly transported back there. 

She’d been checking up on Billy for months now, ever since the early morning hours of July 5th when Max had begged her to tell her what was happening while they were huddled together in the back of an ambulance and not a single EMT or paramedic on site could tell them where or how he was. But there was something different about looking for Billy in the void compared to how it worked with everyone else. Usually, she’d be able to see just the physical. She would be able to see the people around them and hear the words that they said, but with Billy she didn’t see that. She didn’t see his torn up body laid out on a stretcher surrounded by doctors and nurses trying to bring him back to life like she would have expected, or hoped for at least. Instead, all she saw was Billy curled up in his own bed at home, the blue plaid sheets and the stained pillowcases that he let his head sink into, asleep. She couldn’t see him physically, she could only see into his mind and into his dreams.

And all he ever dreamed about was sleeping in his own bed at home.

It was the exact same every time. No matter how close or far she would get to him, no matter the words she’d say and no matter how loud she would say them, he wouldn’t even so much as stir. He was always motionless with steady and even breathing, and she would have thought it to be peaceful if she hadn’t been able to feel everything he was feeling when she was in there. 

Not the pain of being poked and prodded by the doctors who saw him as their little upside down experiment, but the pain of sadness and loneliness that seemed to just be a constant in his life within his own mind. It was way too much for any single person to handle, even if she hadn’t had an inkling to what exactly the cause was. She could never stay in there for too long. The feelings were just too powerful.

It was always the same, until the day that it wasn’t. Everything seemed to be going accordingly, he was in his bed, asleep, just like he always was, but the silence started to fade. Slowly she started to hear voices of different screams enter her ears from far away, growing closer and closer to her and to Billy. Suddenly the boy she never saw move was writhing in his bed. The screams grew closer and closer and louder and louder until they pierced her ears and she covered them with her hands and dropped to her knees. Billy’s own screams were added to the chorus and the dark black void faded quickly to a blinding white that forced her eyes shut like the flash of a camera.

And like the flip of a switch, the literal blink of an eye, the voices stopped and it was all back to black. But when she looked up there was nothing. No bed, no Billy. Nothing.

And her first thought, the thought that rattled in her brain the whole trip from Hawkins to Fort Wayne, the reason she was so adamant that they leave for the hospital right away…

Was that he was dead.

She couldn’t reach him or feel him anymore, and it was the only thing that made any sense.

Hopper called up Dr. Owens through his car phone and explained the situation the best he could, with the limited information he could get out of El who wouldn’t respond to a single word he said with anything but “drive”. All he really had to go off of was that El had seen something and insisted that Billy needed help, that Billy needed their help, and Owens, being ever so intrigued with Eleven and her mysterious capabilities, wasn't going to turn her away.

They pulled into the parking lot and began working their way through each layer of the hospital, from the initial check in desk to the upstairs wing where emergent cases were being wheeled in on stretchers and moved behind closed curtains. They had to go deeper than the ICU where a case like Billy’s would typically be located, but his case was anything but typical. Billy was in the deepest depths of the hospital that only select personnel had access to where lab technicians were having a field day treating Billy Hargrove who had Mindflayer DNA coursing through his veins. Their little science experiment. There was always difficulty getting permission to go back there as many of the nurses weren’t even given clearance so surely the sheriff from two towns over was out of jurisdiction.

But they eventually got their way through the barricaded entrance, with Hopper constantly having to squeeze El’s hand to remind her that no, she couldn’t just force open the glass doors no matter how much she wanted to or how much the nurse behind the counter aggravated her.

The hospital wing Billy was in looked like it was straight out of a horror film. There were no nurses or doctors rushing from room to room, the lights were dim and it was mostly silent save for the squeaking of their soles against the linoleum floor. It looked very abandoned and lonely and straight up depressing, all doom and gloom where the first impression was that whoever was wheeled into any of these rooms, likely wouldn’t be coming out breathing. Instead of being wheeled out in a wheelchair into the parking lot for a grand return home, they’d be wheeled out on a gurney with a white sheet covering their body headed straight for the morgue where Owens’ little lab rats would likely continue their experiments on the dead corpse. El had been quick to release herself from Hopper’s grip and locate the room on her own, storming down the halls with a determination he hadn’t seen from her in a while. He had to do a little jog to keep up with her, hearing his keys jingle from where they hung on his belt loop with every step that he took. El had stormed past everybody and went straight in for Billy, taking him by the hand and tightly shutting her eyes. She didn’t even take a second to notice the two people who were already in the room before her, Max and Steve, asking frantically what was going on because El didn’t even say a thing, and Hopper didn’t have a clue either.

Steve was standing against the doorframe and Max was sitting in the chair looking like she had just been woken up. The two of them looked to have the same confusion plastered on their faces that Hopper had, all three of them looking toward El who stood at Billy’s bedside silently with focus as her face turned red.

“I can’t reach him.” She said once she’d opened her eyes, releasing her hold from Billy’s hand and focusing all of her attention on the heart monitor in the room that maintained a steady rhythm with the crests and troughs indicative of life.

“Can someone here explain to me what is going on?” Steve asked, his arms crossed over his chest. He was looking to Hopper who just gestured to El as if that was answer enough. 

“Something is wrong with Billy.” 

“Billy’s fine El, what are you talking about?” Max chimed in after releasing an exhausted yawn. 

El just repeated herself, turned toward Max and staring her directly in the eyes. “Something is wrong with Billy.”

“What is wrong with Billy, El?” Max asked, and Steve and Hopper just watched the scene take place before them like they were watching a movie, waiting for the plot to thicken.

“He’s gone.”

“No, he’s still alive.” Max protested.

“Not dead. Gone.” El said, “He’s somewhere else, on the inside.”

Before anyone could question her further, Dr. Owens had entered the room. “Is there a problem?” he asked, and everyone's attention had turned toward him where he stood in between Steve and Hopper. 

El didn’t respond, and instead let Hopper speak for her. “We aren’t sure, but Eleven thinks something may have happened with the kid.”

“Why don’t the two of you come into my office and explain it to me? We have been monitoring him closely and haven’t seen any significant changes.” Dr. Owens suggested, leading the two of them out of the room. “You two keep him company, I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but he knows you’re here.” he said, looking at Steve and Max before he closed the door behind him.

- : -

“So he just… vanished?” Dr. Owens asked, his hands were clasped together in front of him on his desk and he was looking to Eleven inquisitively, while she was slumped forward in the chair, her eyes shut tightly just like before, like she was in pain.

“Yes,” she said, “and there were... screams.”

“Whose screams?”

“Billy’s, and others,” she said, her voice trailing off into nearly a whisper, “there were so many. It was so loud.” El choked on tears with that last sentence, and Hopper pulled her into his side. She covered her own ears like she was hearing it all over again. The screams of countless people were echoing in her mind. She just sobbed into Hopper’s jacket.

“Are you sure this wasn’t just a bad dream?” Owens asked. “Nothing has changed with him physically to suggest something is wrong.”

El’s head snapped toward him and her tear filled eyes filled with rage. “I know what I saw,” she said, her face scrunched and eyebrows turned down, “and I can’t reach him anymore.”

Dr. Owens leaned back in his chair almost as if he was trying to distance himself from El. He knew how she could make brain smoothies with just the use of her mind alone, and he didn’t like the idea of being on the receiving end of that. “Okay,” he said, “we’ll run some tests, but I’m not sure how much it will help.”

“Just do what you can Doc,” Hopper chimed in, “for our peace of mind, please.”

“I’ll go order an EEG and an MRI. How ‘bout you two go join the other two, maybe see if you can’t reach him this time.”

Hopper took El by the hand and led her out of the room. She didn’t seem too satisfied with what Owens had to offer, but she was definitely less enraged than she could have been. They walked back down the same empty corridor they just walked through, dim lighting and all, and found Max pacing around the small square room, visible relief on her face as soon as El walked back through the door.

“What the hell is going on?!” Max asked, walking right up to El and putting her hands on her shoulders, getting right up into her face. “You can’t just say something like that without an explanation!” El was just looking back at her with wide eyes, still red and glossy from earlier. “El, tell me that Billy is okay?”

“I-“ she wanted to. She wanted to tell Max that everything would be okay just like she did with her on that mall floor, holding her as she cried right next to Billy’s lifeless body, drenched in blood. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t look Max in the eyes and tell her that he was okay when everything inside of her was telling her that something was seriously wrong. “I don’t know. I don’t know.” She shook and bowed her head.

That made Max take a step backwards, releasing her grip on El’s shoulder and stumbling into the foot of the hospital bed.

“You said you couldn’t see him, could you try again?” Steve asked, pulling a distraught Max who refused to cry into his side, “Just in case?”

El nodded and walked up to his bedside and pulled her blindfold out of her pocket. Hopper followed suit and turned the radio on the side table to a vacant frequency. She sat on the floor, her legs crossed.

She took a deep breath, and focused.

It was almost instant that she found herself back in the void, but it was still completely empty. She walked around aimlessly, her feet splashing in the water with each step she took, calling out his name only to hear her own voice echo back to her.

“Billy?” No response.

“Can you see anything?” It was Max’s voice breaking through, joining the continued echoes.

“Not yet.”

El went in deeper, and her stomach grew more and more tense with each step she took, and her breathing became more and more shallow, but still, nothing. Just pitch black like before.

But she kept going. She continued to move forward despite the uneasy feeling that washed over her.

Then a chill traveled straight down her spine as she heard the faintest little voice enter through her ears, a voice she couldn’t attribute to any of the people that were in the room with her, but also, unmistakably not Billy’s voice either.

“I hear a voice.”

“Is it Billy’s?” Max asked. 

“No it’s…”

It was high pitched, sounded like a giggle. A girl. A young girl.

“It sounds like a young girl.”

El tried to tune out everyone’s follow up questions and focused every bit of her attention on that faint little voice that was slowly growing louder and more audible. She could almost make out the words that were in between the frantic fits of laughter.

“... Daddy!...” The word was as clear as day.

And then there was another voice. Another set of laughter that joined the little girl. A low voice, slightly gruff and heavy.

“Billy.” She said it aloud, to where everyone in the room could hear the moment she realized. But as soon as she said his name, the laughter stopped. Suddenly. 

It was replaced by the screams. 

She was suddenly propelled backwards, like the strongest gust of wind hit her dead on and sent her directly out of the void. She ripped off the blindfold immediately and collapsed into Max’s arms, hands up to her ears, knees to her chest, sobbing, trying to get the sounds of the screams to exit her head.

“What happened?” Max asked, stroking her fingers through Eleven’s hair as she sobbed into her chest, just like she’d done for her, ignoring the blood from El's nose as it transferred onto her shirt.

“I could hear him.” She said through choked sobs. “I could hear Billy.”

Max held onto Eleven tighter. Hopper and Steve were both just watching the scene happen on the floor, their backs against  the walls behind them holding the bulk of their respective weights, unsure of whether or not they should intervene, or dare say anything. They didn’t want to drill her with all of the questions they had bouncing around inside their heads while the person with all of the answers was a wreck on the floor. So they stayed silent, let Max be the one to hold her while she choked back her own tears, and waited for it all to go away and calm down.

She didn’t have that chance before Dr. Owens  walked in alongside another man in a long white lab coat, wheeling in a cart with a large machine on it, a machine El recognized very well.

“Did something happen Eleven?” Dr. Owens asked the girl with the tear stains running down her cheeks. She just nodded her head, still unable to properly vocalize or describe exactly what happened or what she heard. Dr. Owens noted her hesitation to speak and the looks being given to him from the other eyes in the room and decided to drop it, to not press any further. “We’re going to run an EEG to see if there’s any abnormal brain activity, just to make sure Billy’s definitely still in there.”

The man in the lab coat made his way over to Billy’s bedside opposite of the rest of them and began marking points of Billy’s scalp with what looked similar to a blue colored pencil. El had to look away, immediately reminded of the day they strapped her down in a chair and took clippers to her head, Brenner in her ear telling her “this will make everything much easier for everyone.”

They attached the nodes all around his head, and the room was at a dead silence as they waited for it to be over, holding their collective breaths like they were trying to conserve oxygen in the room. Oxygen they might need later. El finally got up from her place on the ground and leaned on Hopper, back facing Billy. Max remained on the floor, her hand reaching up and holding onto Billy’s. His hand was cold, but warm enough that she could tell the blood was still coursing through his veins, without the regular beeping of the heart monitor. Steve stood awkwardly in the corner, feeling out of place. He gripped his own hands behind his back and rolled on his feet, the only one out of the four of them that continued to look at Billy as the contraption was placed on his head. He stared at him almost intently, looking for any sudden movement, a twitch of his feet, a lifted finger, a flared nostril, just something.

But he got nothing. Billy was totally, and completely still.

“Uh. Dr. Owens?” The man in the lab coat said, looking down at the machine on the cart, his eyebrows furrowed, giving cause for concern. “Can you come look at this?”

“Is something wrong?” Hopper asked, his voice loud and his eyes wide like saucers. He was physically leaning forward, trying to see what they were seeing.

Dr. Owens didn’t answer, he just hesitantly joined the lab technician behind the machine to get a better look, offering the group of four a hesitant look of reassurance, that wasn’t very reassuring. He pulled his glasses from where they were hooked on the collar of his shirt up to his face.

“It’s just…”

“Scribbles?” the guy in the lab coat finished. Dr. Owens held the scan up to the light, like he didn’t know what he was looking at. Because he didn’t. He had absolutely no idea what he was looking at.

“What does that mean?” Max asked, her voice almost accusatory.

“There must be a problem with the machine. We’ll try again with a different one.” Dr. Owens looked to the lab technician and without him having to say a word, the man left to fetch another machine. Dr. Owens set the scan down on the bedside table and began removing the nodes from Billy’s head. Dr. Owens was trying to hide the look of confusion from his face, trying to keep everyone else in the room calm, but the girl with the fiery red hair and even more fiery personality couldn’t be calmed down. 

Max continued to press with questions, alongside Hopper, but he had a little more tact in the way he asked for answers. But the two of them kept receiving the same exact response as they all waited for the lab tech to return with a second EEG machine. “We’ll know more when we get an accurate test.” Steve, on the other hand, remained silent and ignored the two who were begging for answers and receiving none. Instead, he walked over to the other side of the bed and stole the scan from on top of the table. Dr. Owens made no attempts to stop him. He just said “it’s only scribbles kid. It’s inconclusive.” but Steve ignored him, and walked back over to where he was initially standing and studied the scan, just like he studied Billy as he lay in that hospital bed. Lifeless. Completely, totally, still.

Dr. Owens just wrote it off and continued removing the nodes from Billy’s head, wracking his brain over how the hell the machine could malfunction like that. Max and Hopper continued to press with questions, and continued to get upset when they didn’t receive any answers, El continued to not look at Billy with all of the attachments to his head, and Steve continued to study the scan, drowning out every bit of background noise, looking at every mark that was made on the paper, like he knew something that everyone else didn’t.

The man in the lab coat came back shortly after with another machine, and everyone in the room was quick to shut up to hopefully speed the process along. They stood and watched as they did it all over again, and El continued to refuse to turn around, and Hopper rubbed circles into her back, waiting for the good news he thought that he had been promised.

“It’s doing it again, sir.” the lab technician said, his voice was frantic, and that was what finally got El to turn around. Everyone was crowding the bed to see exactly what was going on. The pen was going haywire, and Dr. Owens immediately shut off the machine. “Are you doing this little girl!?”

El shook her head

“What the hell is going on Doc!?” Hopper was done being polite. He grabbed him by the fabric of his sleeve and pulled him in close. “What the hell is going on!?” He yelled.

“I… don’t know.”

“Does this mean he’s gone?” Max asked, finally allowing a tear to escape, rolling down her cheek as she choked on her own breath. 

“No.” El answered. “He’s still here.” She was so sure, pushing past everyone and holding onto Billy’s hand. “I could hear him.”

In all of the chaos, nobody could hear Steve mumbling in the background. Nobody saw as his mouth hung open while he stared at the first scan in his hands. They didn’t hear him until his voice grew louder, and Max managed to pick out one of the words he said that made her head jerk towards him.

“What did you say?” She asked Steve, more tears streaming down her face. Everyone else in the room followed her step and now everyone was looking at Steve, who looked like he was in complete shock.

Steve looked up to her with his eyes wide.

“It’s Max.” he said, “it’s you.”

“What are you talking about son?” Hopper asked, inching closer to Steve.

Steve just turned the scan around and held it up for everyone to see, and traced his finger in a circle on the image. “It’s Max. It’s a picture of Max.”

Suddenly nobody was crowding the bed anymore and instead crowding Steve, including Dr. Owens and his lab tech, all craning their necks to try to see past the scribbles.

“I don’t see anything kid-“ 

“Wait!” Max shouted, cutting off the lab tech who spoke in a tired tone, “I see it! Right there!” She placed her finger on the scan. “See, that’s my nose, my mouth… that’s me…”

“I’m calling the others.” Hopper said, “this is fucked up.” Hopper made an attempt to leave the room and go to a phone but he was stopped by Dr. Owens pressing a hand to his chest. “Get out of my way this could be-“

“The Upside Down, I know. If that even is the case, the less people know, the better.”

Suddenly chaos had broken out again between everyone arguing with each other about involving the others, and Eleven and Max just trying to shut everyone up, only making it louder.

But that was immediately halted by the sound of the radio in the corner turning on, and music began playing, but nobody was near it to even touch it.

“Who did that?” Dr. Owens asked, and everyone raised their arms in the air at once, signaling innocence. 

The song was staticky, but they could still make out the words to a familiar song, and everyone’s stomach dropped when they looked over to where Billy was lying on the hospital bed, just a single tear rolling down his face as the song eerily played in everyone’s ears.

Say "Night-ie night" and kiss me 

Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me 

While I'm alone and blue as can be 

Dream a little dream of me

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #mandi writes tresh #stranger things #fanfic

[darrowsrising]

I’m sorry to bother you with this, but it has been on my mind since my friend told me. My friend trusted me enough to confess that these books, Red Rising books, were their safe place and comfort. I never read them, so I started to look up information to understand my friend. That’s how I came across your blog, and my question is… how can books with so much tragedy be their safe place and comfort?

You don't bother me, anon! This is such an emotional question, so please bear with me, it will be a very emotional answer. This is why it took so long go answer it as well.

I feel like the Red Rising Series just...gives you things that burrow into your heart and once there, they never leave. So your heart aches for the characters, the events, and everything in between.

The entire series is hopepunk, that's why I believe people are so keen on returning to this series, especially when times are hard. Things are not easy at all, tragedy and pain stalks at every corner, but...it's the hope that keeps on giving.

I mean who could resist a bunch of outsiders and insiders and everything in between, all united under a guy who makes their heart sing in tandem with hope? Darrow managed to bring everyone together and everyone of them just kept on pushing their own boundaries and they all found a family together.

So I think it's the love, the kindness, the sense of togetherness and the friendships that makes one think - that's my comfort series. Because we all want to belong and be inspired to live on against all the odds stacked against us.

I also think that Howlers (the fans) like that the characters are allowed to feel, you know? The rage, the helplessness, the loneliness. Their feelings are valid. You have no idea how much I longed for to read about someone who rages like I do, and not to just vent and scream at the void with helplessness, but with spite, with determination with that 'Oh, yeah? Watch me!'.

The characters are extremely relatable and the more you read about them, the more you get to know about your own self. I have been reflecting on that a lot and I could talk about it on and on, but it's too personal to be of interest, yet it was extremely helpful to me.

Pierce lets his characters feel everything. Even when their mental state is bad. Even when they don't have time to process their own feelings, he always goes back on them. You see, feeling sad, anger and every other negative emotion, is not bad in itself. People need to feel them, it's actually healthy. For example, one has to process grief, not bury it - that is why it's more painful when Darrow gets a reprive from having to bury his feelings. Pierce doesn't brush off on mental health - his characters struggle with it, war always leaves its scars upon them. But he also gives the characters healing, which feels natural and doesn't rely on some stupid trope like 'romance/sex heals all'. They find meaningful friendships, find a purpose and goal. When they break, they find love and comfort from their found family and with that support they try get up and try to move, step by step, forward. That doesn't mean they are healed, though. It's not an immediate or permanent thing, it's a journey.

I think their ability to feel things is the most validating and relatable of things. Yes, there are characters who repress things, conditioned by Society or not, but even that is well-written, because you just know there are more to them that this shell. Many of us hide, we don't talk about what's stressing us, what tears us up inside. Especially when we know that opening up means being dismissed, our feelings invalidated.

So, reading Red Rising almost feels soothing. Because you know the characters, you feel connected to them with some sort of shared pain. You feel encouraged that even though they've been through a new hell several times, they have emerged, maybe not all of them and those that did, did not emerged unscathed, but they always find some will to live, even if it rings a bit hollow at times.

And the hope...the hope is not wanked to hell in flowery sentences. It's not just some word that makes you shrivel up and die faster, because it feels more like toxic positivity than actual help.

Hope is genuine and inspirational. And I long for that on my bad days, because among all the tragedy and pain of that universe, to make me feel hopeful is...monumental. When I am alone, I look at the books on my shelf or at a picture of Darrow and remember that connection I feel for the series and the hope. And it's a bit soothing. As corny as that sounds, anyway.

I also think that the series is inspiring. It makes us question ourselves, our own biases, the way we act towards others. But most of all, it inspires us to hope and to do. To move, even if it's a little bit. Everytime we rebel, even a little, against a corrupt system, against toxic standards, against casual maliciousness, against opression, it's more important than we might have originally thought.

And the forgiveness. I am not a very forgiving person, at least not until I've processed every emotion. But there are moments in Red Rising that made me work on that ability of mine. Sometimes, forgiveness if so poorly used in some books, that I come to hate the book itself. But the way Darrow forgives people and how he holds a few exceptions was extremely realistic to me and very profound and well-written. When Pebble boxed Thisle's cloak in MS, and said 'Howl on, little Thisle!', I shed tears. It was a small moment, but it was so powerful, I had to take a break. Thisle was a traitor and for such shallow reasons that I didn't want to forgive her, but...oh, hell my heart hurts even now. It was so meaningful to me and so are so many other moments.

There is also the constrast between the bad stuff and the good stuff - the good stuff hapenning in these books are always so much sweeter and precious.

I literally don't know what dlse to write or how to write it, but I feel there is so much more to day. Guess that's a bonus point.

Howl on!

Later edit: there is also the way that Pierce makes certain things realistic, besides the ones I have mentioned in this post. For example, the war theme is something Pierce insists must be realistic and I agree with that because we see the effects, all of them, reflected directly and indirectly. It tackles various issues with war - why it is necessary against extreme regimes, why war makes it so that even 'the good guys' have to do questionable things if not wholly bad, how war is not just the conflict, but also a battle for information and deceit and many other things. It really makes you think, you know. I love books that make me think.

#pierce brown #red rising trilogy #iron gold trilogy #darrow of lykos #red rising #golden son #morning star #iron gold #dark age

[roman-writing]

no great revelation (4/8)

Fandom(s): The Haunting of Bly Manor / Star Wars

Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jamie Taylor

Rating: T

Wordcount: 7,057

Summary: Jamie  just wants to enjoy a drink after a hard day’s work on the Telosian  Restoration Project. The last thing she needs is to get herself  caught  up in a mysterious woman with a lightsabre at the local bar.

Aurthor’s notes: Please don’t expect anything from this story. I’m just doodling in between writing ch11 and ch12 of ‘bring home a haunting.’

read it below or read it here on AO3

IV:

—

“I owe you a favour?” Rebecca said, and her voice sounded amused. “Is that how we’re remembering it?”

“Yup. After that fiasco you put me through in that club on Nar Shaddaa.”

The sound of an incredulous huff of laughter came through the cracked speakers of the transceiver in a staticky burst. “What is it this time?”

“Nothing special,” said Jamie. “In fact, it’s even a little boring.”

“You? Boring?” 

“I like boring.”

“Pull the other one.”

“More boring than last time, then.” 

“Last time you had me move three hundred freed Twi’lek slaves from Hutt space and back to their home planets.”

“And they’ve been singing your praises ever since. I know that for a fact, because one family sent me a holo-card which showed that party you went to where they made you godmother of their newborn child.” 

“Oh! That reminds me,” Rebecca said, sounding suddenly excited. “Do you want to see the latest pictures of the kid? He’s four and adorable.” 

“That had better be a rhetorical question,” Jamie drawled.

“So, that’s a no?”

“Shut up and send me the pictures to my personal transceiver when I see you.” 

Rebecca’s laugh was infectious. Always had been. A smile pulled at the corner of Jamie’s mouth in spite of herself. The Jawas had crowded off to the other end of the tiny room, talking amongst themselves while Jamie used their transceiver. On the other hand Dani drifted closer, hovering just out of range of the transceiver’s camera, which — along with the microphone and speakers — seemed to be the only thing about it that actually functioned properly. 

“It’s been too long,” Rebecca was saying. “I’ve missed talking to you.”

“So, you’ll do me the favour?” 

“You know I hate moving people,” Rebecca sighed. “Pressurising the cargo hold is so expensive.”

“It’s for a good cause.”

“Always is with you.”

"It's not like that."

"Sure it isn't." Rebecca said, then groaned. "Why can't you ever ask me to run something normal? Like food? Or weapons?"

"I asked you to run those emergency rations to Taris that one time."

"The planet was being blockaded by the Empire!"

"And you snuck through like a ghost," Jamie said. "I've never seen anything like it in all my years."

"Flatterer."

"Fuckin' right I am. Is it working?"

A sigh down the other line. "All right. How many people is it this time?"

Jamie opened her mouth to answer, but before she could speak Dani came into frame and sat beside Jamie with a wave towards the camera.

"Hi," she said with as much false cheer as she could muster. "Just me. Dani Clayton. Nice to meet you."

Silence on the other end. Jamie really wished this piece of crap transceiver had a working screen of its own so she could gauge Rebecca's reaction. As it was: the silence didn't seem like a good start.

“I see,” Rebecca said slowly. “Jamie, you always did have a soft spot for a pretty face.”

Heat flushed all the way up to Jamie’s hairline. “That’s not -!” she said, then turned to Dani and insisted, “It’s not.”

Dani did not answer. Her own cheeks were pink and she was studiously avoiding Jamie’s gaze, watching the broken monitor instead where Rebecca’s face should have been displayed. 

Rebecca — damn her — was the one who spoke next. "And where are you from, Dani?"

"Alderaan," Dani said at the same time Jamie hissed, "Don't answer that."

Dani shot Jamie a puzzled look and lowered her voice, “I thought you two were friends.”

“We are, but -” 

“No whispering,” said Rebecca through the crackling speakers in a sing-song voice. “If you’re talking about me, at least let me hear the juicy gossip.”

Rather than continue down that vein, Jamie corrected course. “We need to get to Tython. We’re on a transport through the Hydian Way to Coruscant, but we’ve got some undesirables on our tail. Think you can help?”

Rebecca gave a thoughtful hum. “You know I’m not a Core World girl. Not my speciality.” 

“I wouldn’t ask you if I wasn’t desperate.” 

“Next time,” Rebecca said in a dry tone, “just call me for drinks and a laugh.” 

“First round’s on me,” Jamie promised with a grin. 

The sound of tapping down the line and a series of beeps as Rebecca did something with her ship’s computer. “I’m picking up your signal from hyperspace just past Bandomeer. I won’t be able to meet up with your transport until you come out of hyperspace for a stop over at Corsin tomorrow afternoon. Think you can survive that long?” 

Leaning back, Jamie exhaled a long relieved breath, her shoulders slumping. “It’ll have to do. Thanks, Becs. You’re a lifesaver.”

“I know.”

And just like that, the call ended. No fanfare. No goodbyes. That’s how it always was with her — touch and go. Probably why the two of them got along so well, Jamie thought. Not many people could go without exchanging a single word for four years and then pick up where they’d left off as if no time had passed at all. 

Jamie pushed the transceiver away. Dani was watching her with a curious tilt of her head so that a lock of her hair was curled along the column of her neck in a way that made Jamie want to reach out and card her fingers through her hair. 

“She seems nice,” Dani said.

“It’s complicated.”

Understanding lit up in Dani’s mismatched eyes. “Ah.” 

“Not like that,” Jamie said quickly. “We never - I just meant that she’s complicated. For a smuggler like Rebecca, trust is its own currency. And now I owe her a very big favour.” 

Dani nodded but didn’t comment further. She had turned her attention back to the huddle of Jawas, listening to them quibble and murmur together. “As much as I like them,” she said, “I don’t think we can hide here for a full day without imposing.”

That and Jamie could not imagine trying to sleep in a pile with a bunch of Jawas. She made a face at the very thought. It was cramped with two people in one of these rooms. Let alone eleven. Even if the other nine were less than a meter in height and smelled of damp womprat. 

“Please tell me the alternative doesn’t involve the garbage chute,” Dani said. 

 --

The alternative only partially involved the garbage chute. And even then, they only had to use it once to ferry their way up to the mid decks when their transport dropped out of hyperspace and docked at Corsin. Jamie kept checking over her shoulder for sign of the Jedi and the Troopers as she and Dani snuck off the transport with a crowd of others. She did not relax even as they stepped free of the transport and into the hangar bays of Corsin.

The arched transparisteel ceiling was a void of star-speckled ink viewing out into space, and far below the planet was a marble of blue oceans and green islands, white tufts of cloud drifting across its surface. 

“It looks beautiful,” said Dani, pausing to wistfully admire the planet below. 

“It looks unaffordable,” Jamie replied, not sparing it a glance and instead standing up on her toes, craning her neck to get a better look around the hangar. 

“Reminds me of Alderaan.” 

It was said almost softly enough that Jamie couldn’t hear it. Jamie stopped her search and turned back to Dani, who was still staring longingly out the windows. Hesitating for a second, Jamie curled her fingers around Dani’s hand. Startled, Dani blinked at her.

Jamie offered what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “C’mon,” she said, and gave Dani’s hand a tug. 

Dani did not pull her hand away as Jamie pulled her along further into the hangar in search of their ticket out of this mess. She linked their fingers together and held on tight, her hand cold; Dani was always cold. Jamie needed to think about buying her a set of thermals. 

Pushing through the crowd, they made their way from various bay to various bay. Other passengers who knew their destinations went straight to the cruiser that would ferry them down to the planet below. Most of them wore enough Ottegan silk to last Jamie a year if she sold it on the black market, no questions asked. This was not a planet for people like them, and a few security droids around the place had started to take notice of that fact. Jamie was constructing an elaborate lie in her head about how they were janitorial staff, when she finally saw her. 

Rebecca was standing before a side bay with her hand resting easily on the holster of her blaster pistol. She looked just as Jamie remembered. All in smart and durable beige and black, the cut of her clothes fashionable in a rakish sort of way but unafraid of hard labour. Her dark hair was longer and was bound in a long plait over one shoulder. And her dark skin was slightly darker, too — she must have been visiting a sunny planet lately. Letting go of Dani’s hand and striding forward with a broad smile, Jamie caught her in a fierce warm hug.

“God, but it’s good to see you again,” Jamie said. 

Only one of Rebecca’s hands came up to rest against Jamie’s back to return the hug. When she pulled back slightly her smile had an oddly sad slant, and she murmured, “I really am sorry for this, Jamie.” 

Jamie blinked, her face falling. “What -?” 

Before she could move, Rebecca’s other hand came up and pressed something to Jamie’s flank. A flash of something like fire rippled through Jamie’s body, and then she slumped forwards into Rebecca’s arms, the world spinning and going dark. 

 --

When Jamie came to, she had a splitting headache and her side felt like it had been kicked by a very large very angry animal. She winced and slowly sat up with a groan. Blinking muzzily, she took inventory of her surroundings. Just a small room sheathed in dark metal panels from floor to ceiling, complete with the only door blocked by yellow plasma beam bars, and a Czerka logo stamped into one of the panels on the hallway outside. 

And worst of all: no Dani in sight.

Great. Alone in the brig of a Czerka ship. And given her shit luck, Jamie had an inkling of exactly whose ship this belonged to as well. 

“Fuck,” she said, lingering emphatically over every aspect of the word. 

She had been placed along a bench in the cell, and now she dragged her sorry carcass into the corner so that she could prop her legs atop the bench and lean her head back against the wall. When the world finally stopped trying to tilt with every sluggish beat of her heart, Jamie patted herself down. 

No mining laser, of course. That would’ve been the first thing they stripped off of her. No credit chits in her pocket. No multitools that she always kept on her person in case she ever needed to disassemble some machinery at work. The dogtags were still around her neck at least. At least if she died, whoever found her would be able to identify her body and return it to Tython or wherever the fuck nobodies like her in The Order went after death. Small miracles. 

Nothing for it, then. She staggered upright and went to use the loo. When she’d finished, she returned to her place on the bench and thought about how fucked she was. 

She’d been in plenty of bad scrapes in her time, but this was taking the coveted position of ‘Worst Hole Ever Dug by Jamie Taylor — May the Force Be With Her.’

A door opened in the near distance, then another, followed by quick footsteps. Jamie frowned at the hallway, waiting for some Czerka pillock to come take her away and shove her out an airlock. Instead Rebecca came into swift view.

"Here," she said, sliding Jamie's handheld mining laser along the floor through the bars, then began trying to pry a section of the wall away from the hallway in order to reveal a nest of wires leading to the control panel. "I've disabled the alarms and cameras for the brig, but we don't have much time. There's a cruiser docked in bay three. It has a hyperdrive and enough rations to get you to wherever you need to go. The Czerka fleet won't fire upon it so long as you're quick and you don't let them figure out it's you."

Jamie did not move. Teeth clenched, she crossed her arms and glowered at the opposite wall. 

"Jamie -"

"Nope," Jamie said, jaw taut, refusing to even look in her direction.

"Listen to me," Rebecca gave up on hacking the control panel. She tried to move into Jamie's line of sight but Jamie kept turning her head aside. "There is more to this than what it appears. I know about the infiltration of House Thul. I know about the -"

"I don't care about what you know,” Jamie cut her off.  "If you think I'll listen to another word out of your mouth, then you've got another thing coming."

"I'm trying to make sure I can get you out of here alive, you thick-headed Rim-Rat!" Rebecca snapped.

“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place!”

With a bitter laugh, Rebecca leaned against the frame of the cell, careful to not touch the plasma beam bars. “That’s rich, knowing your history. I’ve never met a person who gets into more trouble than you.”

Jamie put on her best sneer and asked, "What's Quint got over you this time, then? Eh?"

Rebecca shook her head and looked away with an incredulous noise, hands on her hips. "It's not like that."

"Like hell it's not," Jamie growled. "All that time you spent outwitting the Empire, and now this? He is Imperial through and through."

"I know exactly what Peter is."

"Yeah. A piece of shit, who'd sell his mother if it means saving his own sorry hide." 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Rebecca said and her voice was low. She darted her eyes down the hall, as if watching for any potential eavesdroppers. “And you are in far deeper shit than you could possibly understand. That woman you’re with -”

Sitting up straighter, Jamie swung her legs over the side of the bench and onto the ground, suddenly alert. “Where is she?” 

Rebecca fixed her with a serious expression. Rather than answer, she said, “She’s dangerous.” 

“She’s scared,” Jamie corrected. 

“Which is quite possibly the worst thing for her to be.”

Rising to her feet, Jamie glowered through the plasma bars. Her voice was pure venom. “If you had just helped me get her to Tython, then I could’ve gotten her proper training.”

“The Order won’t take her.”

Jamie had to stop herself from striking out at the bars, even knowing they would give her burns all across her skin. “You know fuck all about The Order!” she snarled, pointing at Rebecca’s infuriatingly calm face through the bars. 

In the distance a door opened with a hiss of pressurized air. Both Jamie and Rebecca tensed and looked over in that direction. Or, well, Jamie tried to look but the view from the cell was pretty limited, all things considered. She'd had better views from the brigs of far less fancy ships than this.

Footsteps approached. Turning back, Rebecca lowered her voice and said in a rush, "Jamie, listen to me for once in your life. You are my friend, and I am going to get you out of this, but you have to do what I say."

Jamie shook her head. "No. Not without her."

Swearing fluently under her breath, Rebecca slammed the section of wall back into place to hide her attempted tampering. She’d only just managed to get everything in place and turn around, when no less than four Czerka guards in green and gold livery marched into sight. All of them were holding blaster rifles and were armoured to boot. They weren’t walking military-grade arsenals like the Republic Troopers from the transport, but they still weren’t people Jamie wanted to fuck with unless she had some serious firepower at her back. Hastily Jamie hid her mining laser in one of her bulky pockets, praying they wouldn’t pat her down. 

“You shouldn’t be down here,” one of them said to Rebecca. 

Rebecca pointed to a corner of the ceiling. “I noticed the cameras were down and came to investigate in case the prisoner managed to escape.” 

He narrowed his eyes at her, then stomped past her to key in a code into the control panel leading to Jamie’s cell. “Next time, alert one of us instead.” 

The plasma bars fizzed out of existence. The leader of this particular pillock squad made a sharp motion to the others, and two of them marched forward, grabbed Jamie by the shoulders, and hauled her upright. 

“Easy does it, lads,” Jamie grumbled. “Could’ve just asked.”

One of them clipped her on the back of the head with his gauntleted fist. “Quiet.” 

After they yanked her hands behind her back and clipped a set of handcuffs around her wrists, they marched her out of the cell. Jamie gave Rebecca the dirtiest glare she possibly could, and Rebecca just rolled her eyes in response, trailing after the group. Two sets of hands remained firm around Jamie’s upper arms as they walked, guiding her further into the depths of the ship. 

When they all crowded into an elevator together, doors sliding shut behind them, a cheerful cantina tune began to play. 

“So,” Jamie ventured. “Don’t suppose anyone’s got a light?” 

No answer. From the corner of her vision, Jamie could just make out Rebecca biting back an ill-timed smile in the back of the elevator. Or maybe she was trying to stop herself from screaming in frustration. Difficult to tell from this angle. 

“Just trying to be neighbourly,” Jamie grumbled.

“Shut up,” said one of the guards whose fingers dug into her arm. 

A light dinged, the music stopped, and the elevator doors opened with a hiss. Jamie couldn’t see beyond the massive frame of the two guards standing in front of her, but soon the four of them were flanking her as they all moved forward, leading her onto the bridge of what appeared to be Peter Quint’s flagship. 

Or at least, that was what Jamie assumed. And given that Peter Quint was standing at the head of the bridge, she reckoned she wasn’t too far off the mark. 

His hands were clasped behind his back and he faced away, looking out through the transparisteel windows at the sleek fore of the ship pointing into space, surrounded by a veritable fleet of other vessels that looked like they were on direct loan from the Empire. The long hems of Peter’s dark coat brushed his ankles, but he did not turn around or indeed take any notice of the new arrivals. In fact, he seemed engaged in deep conversation with someone whom Jamie could not see. The light glinted off one of his hands, the metal dark of his cybernetic limb dark. If Jamie hadn’t been looking for it, she might have mistaken it for a glove of some sort. 

The bridge split into three segments, the centre being command ending in a . Two of the guards veered off to the left, while another marched straight forward to address Peter. The last kept a firm hold of Jamie’s arm and hauled her off to the right, circling around while Rebecca trailed behind them, silent. As they went, Jamie got a better view of exactly who Peter was talking to, and she started.

“Dani -” 

The guard yanked at Jamie’s arm to keep her on course, and the three of them stopped at the head of the right wing, separated from command by a pit sunk into the floor, where engineers and pilots and God only knows who else toiled away pressing buttons or something. Jamie had no idea what was required to run a ship this size. Armed men, apparently, for that constituted the majority of people on the bridge. Guards at the doors. Guards at the helm. Guards along the walls.

Dani’s wrists weren’t bound with handcuffs, but she was kneeling on the ground as if she’d fallen there, and her cheek bore a bruise that was already starting to go purple. Her shoulders were hunched around her ears, and she was leaning away from Peter. When Jamie had spoken, Dani’s eyes flicked in her direction then widened. She opened her mouth as if to answer, but snapped it shut once more, wringing her hands together in her lap. She was not wearing the lightsabre anywhere on her person. 

Peter had tilted his head to listen to whatever report the guard was delivering to him. He nodded and the guard went away with a sharp salute. And then he turned to look at Jamie. 

“Jamie,” he said, “It’s been a minute.”

“Yeah, not nearly enough,” Jamie muttered. 

The guard cuffed her again. Not enough to bruise, but enough to sting. On the other side of her, Jamie saw Rebecca’s hand tighten into a fist. 

If Peter seemed at all troubled by this exchange, he did not show it. “You’ve led us on a bit of a merry chase, you know. Could’ve saved me the trouble and just let me have her back on Telos IV.” 

Nodding towards Dani, Jamie said, "Since when do you care about dead Jedi? Or bounties for that matter? You’re rolling in credits."

Peter let out a bark of laughter. "About - what?" He looked down at Dani, saw the stricken expression on her face, and then he smiled that sickly sweet smile of his. "Oh, I see."

Dani did not move. She did not speak.

When Peter continued speaking, it was not to Jamie. “No, it’s not credits I’m after. Or Jedi. But you know that. Don’t you, darling?” He crouched down before Dani, who shrank back from him. His voice was soft when he said, "You know what I want. Just give it back, love, and you can be on your way. I'll even give you your own personal escort back to Alderaan with enough credits to drown yourself in. How does that sound?"

Dani blinked up at him in surprise. Then her eyes darted in Jamie's direction.

Peter followed her gaze, and Jamie wanted to burn the smirk off his smug fucking face. "Ah, no," he said, turning back to Dani. "I'm afraid that one stays with me."

Dani licked at her lips and straightened her shoulders. "You let her go, or I won’t give it to you."

From this angle Jamie couldn't see the expression on Peter's face. His broad shoulders held a barely restrained tension, as though on the cusp of explosive movement. And when he spoke, even the gentle softness of his voice was a lie, "Very well. You have my word."

Don't, Jamie wanted to shout in warning. Don't do it.

Slowly, Dani reached into her cloak and unpicked a section of the lining, revealing a makeshift hidden pocket. She rummaged around then pulled something out and set it on the floor. Jamie strained to get a better look. Her captor kneed her roughly in the back for her trouble, and she would've gone face first into the ground if not for the hand in her hair yanking her back so that she remained upright.

It didn't stop her from catching a glimpse of what was being exchanged, however. Shards of metal, black gold. All in pieces, like a disassembled puzzle.

Peter was silent. He stared down at the pieces Dani had placed at his feet. Then in a smooth motion he stood, pushing himself upright to loom over her. 

"Do you think this is funny?" he asked in that too quiet, too dangerous tone.

Eyes wide, Dani shook her head. "No, I -"

Peter kicked the pieces away with a vicious swipe of his foot, and Dani flinched back with a startled cry. He darted forward and seized a handful of her cloak.

"Where is it?" he snarled.

"That's - That's all I have! The box fell apart after I touched it, I swear!"

Peter's hand tightened around the fabric, pulling up so that Dani was held slightly off the ground by the scruff of her neck, her feet scrambling for purchase on the metal flooring. "Box?" he repeated. "I'm not asking about a fucking toy box! Where is the holocron?"

"The -? The what?"

With a vicious curse, he threw her back onto the ground. Dani caught herself on her hands with a hiss of pain, and she flinched back when Peter began to circle her. 

"Don't play dumb," he said. "You know what I'm after."

"I don't -"

"You think I'm fucking blind? You think a piece of shit nobody from a backwater in Alderaan can kill a Jedi? You think you just woke up one day with powers?" He stalked around her, his expression a mask of fury. "You are nothing. You are nobody. You're not Force sensitive. You're a puppet. Just a piece of meat to house something greater, and you don't even fucking know it!"

The deck fell silent but for the beep of electronics, the rustle of fabric as pilots kept the ship on course. Jamie darted a look towards Rebecca, but her face was carefully blank and guarded, her thumb hooked through the belt of her blaster pistol in a way that Jamie knew meant she was actually nervous about something. None of which boded well.

“I was so close,” Peter was saying, and he didn’t even seem to be talking to Dani anymore. His words were a ranting mutter, wrathful and desperate. The metal of his robotic arm clicked in a menacing fashion every time he clenched his hand into a rhythmic fist. “This was it. This was my last run. The last deed I’d ever have to do for those evil cocksuckers on Dromund Kaas. Plant a holocron and be done with it. Be free of the Empire forever. Until you -”

His voice trailed off and his steps slowed to a halt. In the muddy light of the bridge, he was a faceless silhouette. He clenched his metal fist so tightly that it creaked and sparked. Dani shivered on the ground at his feet, her shoulders hunched, as though she were trying to make herself small enough to disappear. 

“You went snooping. You took something that didn’t belong to you. And I need it back. No matter the price.” In a swift movement, Peter crouched down on his haunches again. Dani flinched back, but Peter merely watched her for a long and uncomfortable moment before he continued, “So, what’s it going to be?”

From where she stood, Jamie could just make out the defiant set of Dani’s jaw. 

Sighing, Peter reached out and tucked a stray curl of hair behind Dani’s ear, while Dani sat, frozen in place. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t like hurting people,” he said. “Always the worst way of going about it. And, you know, it just doesn’t work as well as you’d think. So, tell me. What’s your price? Hmm? What do I have to do to get you to talk?” 

When again Dani did not answer, Peter withdrew his hand. “Normally I’m a patient man, but as we live and breathe, there’s a Dark Lord of the Sith coming our way. If you don’t deal with me, then you’ll be dealing with him. And I assure you: you want to be dealing with me instead.” 

Licking her lips, Dani said, “I already told you everything I know.” 

“Well, that is disappointing.”

Jamie tried to shift her feet slightly so she could get a better angle on the rest of the bridge, but the guard behind her kicked her in the back of the knee. When she went down with a grunt of pain, her knee slamming into the ground, the guard then yanked her back up by the handcuffs behind her with enough force she felt her arm sockets complain. 

“Get up,” the guard growled, and Jamie shot him a look that should have dropped him on the spot. 

The brief commotion drew Peter and Dani’s attention back in this direction. Peter pushed himself upright and turned, while Dani’s panicked gaze moved from him to Jamie and back again. 

“Or maybe I’m going about this the wrong way,” Peter murmured. He walked slowly across the bridge towards Jamie.  

“Even if I did know something, you and I both know I’d rather cut out my own tongue than tell you,” Jamie spat. The guard tightened his hold on her handcuffs, but she pinned him in place with a fierce glare and said, “Touch me again, and I’ll end you, mate.” 

Peter held up his hand before the guard could react. When Jamie faced him once more, Peter was close enough that she could see the thin scar on his cheek. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been the one to give it to him. She didn’t know where in his sordid past he’d gotten it. 

The corner of his mouth twitched in a smile that never touched his eyes. “Oh, Jamie. I never thought you actually knew something. You’re much too simple to get sensible answers before leaping to a lost cause.” 

In spite of herself, Jamie’s gaze darted to Dani who was watching their interaction with naked dread. 

Peter followed her gaze and grinned. “Aye,” he said. “That’s the one.” 

And without further ado, he drew his blaster pistol, pointed it at Jamie, and shot her. The smell of burnt flesh was an afterthought to the blinding pain that sent her vision white. Jamie staggered, keeling slowly over the charred wound low in her abdomen just above her hip. Something cold was pressed against her face, and it was with a blurred realisation that Jamie found herself lying on the floor. She blinked through the muzzy borders of her vision, trying to move and only managing to gurgle weakly. 

Right. Bad idea, that. 

At least blaster fire didn’t allow for my bleeding. Mass internal burn trauma, yes, but she wasn’t about to bleed out on the floor. Every breath was a sharp lance through Jamie’s stomach. She pushed herself into a crouch on all fours, registering the commotion around her as if experiencing it through water. 

“ - Don’t touch her! Don’t you dare -!” 

“Peter, killing her gets you nothing. You should -”

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do, Becs! I won’t be taking orders ever again! Not from you, and especially not from the Empire!”

“Then get what you need, but Jamie doesn’t have it. And neither, it seems, does she.” 

Three sets of boots surrounded her. The guard beside her, and Rebecca standing between her and Peter. As Jamie tilted her head up, Peter started to stalk away. His footsteps were loud against the metal grating of the floor, and he dropped heavily into the captain’s chair at the head of the bridge. He had holstered his pistol and now he reached down to pick up something that had been propped up against the base of the chair. 

He pressed a button, and the lightsabre leapt to life. The blue light scattered across his face. “The holocron isn’t on Alderaan,” Peter said. “We did a very thorough check. Which means you -” he pointed the lightsabre at Dani, who was now standing at the centre of the bridge facing him, “- must have left it somewhere between there and Telos IV.” 

Dani’s expression was dark, her hands were trembling fists at her side. 

With a sigh, Peter sheathed the lightsabre and set it on the arm of his chair. He leaned back in his seat, crossing his legs so that his ankle was propped on his opposite knee. Addressing the guard beside Jamie, he said, “Rebecca’s right Jamie doesn’t know anything of use. Take her to the lower decks and throw her out the airlock.” 

The guard did not even say an affirmative. He simply hauled Jamie to her feet, and began dragging her back towards the exit despite Rebecca’s protests. 

“Leave her alone.” 

There was something wrong with Dani’s voice. An odd burr, a hard quality that did not suit her. She still had her gaze fixed upon Peter, but something in the way she spoke made every person in the room tense. The guard shoving Jamie along froze, looking back towards Peter for further instruction. 

There was an internal pressure building in Jamie’s chest, something like desperation, like the acrid aftertaste of gunmetal and blasterfire. All around them, the wall panels groaned. A few crumpled beneath the strain. Rupture of pipe and control panels, and with a screech of metal on metal all the lights on the bridge went out. Steam from the burst pipes billowed along the floor. Every guard in the room — even Jamie’s — raised their weapon towards Dani, glancing nervously around. Moments later, the emergency lighting flickered to life, illuminating the deck with a faint glow. 

Quint’s face was cast from below. Unlike the others, he had not moved, remaining slouched on his captain’s chair like a low-slung throne. He smiled at Dani. “Was that supposed to impress anyone?” 

Dani reached out her hand and the sabre that had been resting on the arm of Peter’s chair was in Dani’s grasp before Jamie could even blink, as though it had leapt into place there. With a press of her thumb, the blade extended, slicing a blue line through the gloom. The air was cold, so cold that Jamie could see her own breath misting in a cloud, and the icy fear that had twisted in her chest was a thing now slicked with darkness. A treachery of black ice beneath every step. 

She watched, handcuffed and helpless, as Dani gripped the sabre so tightly that her hands shook. One of Dani’s eyes gleamed gold and bright, unblinking, fixed upon Peter, and from the hilt a crimson light peeled down the length of the blade, a slow and burning bleed of kyber, until the sabre was completely engulfed in a light as red as a dying star. 

“Open fire,” Peter said, voice trembling, face pale, staring at her with wide eyes. He jabbed his finger in Dani’s direction and repeated in a shout to the room at large, “Open fucking fire!”

Over a dozen guardsmen sighted down their blaster rifles and began shooting. The lightsabre was a living thing in Dani’s hands. It moved in ways Jamie had only ever seen in training manuals, in the hands of Knights and Masters. No motion wasted. Every angle of the blade made with surety of purpose. 

Four guards were dead by their own reflected blaster fire before they could even manage to pull the trigger a second time. Dani reached out, and four others had their rifles ripped from their hands, the weapons warping into useless hunks of metal and cast aside. One of the guards stationed at the exit raced forward, pulling out a long knife that had been strapped to his thigh. Dani did not even pause in deflecting incoming blaster fire; she swept the lightsabre behind her, passing the hilt between her hands and bringing it back around. Half of the guard’s severed body went careening into the control pit, where the pilots and engineers cowered with hands over their heads. The other half skidded to a halt on the floor, dead weight. 

Jamie’s mouth hung open. Blaster fire continued to fly through the air in streaks of red. The guard who had been assigned to her was torn between trying to shoot Dani and trying to keep a hand on his charge. Then Rebecca stepped forward, pressed the muzzle of her pistol to the side of his head, and pulled the trigger. He crumpled into a heap on the ground, and Jamie swore loudly. 

Crouching down, Rebecca grabbed something off the guard’s body and used it to unlock Jamie’s handcuffs. “Don’t just stand there!” Rebecca yelled over the din, and she circled an arm around Jamie’s waist to help her along. “Let’s go!”

The two of them lurched towards the exit. A deflected shot struck the ground beside them, and they ducked down. Smoke and steam filled the air. The smell of blaster fire and burnt flesh was thick enough to make Jamie gag. Cursing under her breath all the while, Rebecca pulled Jamie to the exit, where a guardsman was sprawled, dead on the floor with a hole the size of a fist burnt through his chest. Rebecca had to let go of Jamie for a second to haul the guard closer so she could use his hand to unlock the biosecurity lock on the exit. The panel flashed green, and Rebecca dropped the guard in favour of Jamie again. 

The elevator was eleven floors down and slowly started to ascend. 

“Come on,” Rebecca was muttering under her breath to herself. “Come on, come on, come on -”

Behind them, the blaster fire dwindled to a halt. There was the sound of something heavy and wet falling to the ground. With a thrill of sickening fear gripping her stomach, Jamie turned and felt Rebecca do the same.

The walls were scarred and pitted. A shower of sparks fell from the ceiling where a wall panel had been shot loose. Through the haze of smoke, Jamie could make out the shape of bodies scattered across the floor, and at the very centre of it all Dani stood. 

Her back was to them. She faced the captain’s chair, the lightsabre burning red through the acrid smoke. For a moment it seemed Peter was standing to his feet, but then Jamie realised he was being lifted up. He grasped at his throat with both hands, heels lashing out at the air, making wordless strangled noises, gasping. Then his head snapped to one side with a sickening crack, and he went still. Dani looked up at him and with an almost lazy gesture, tossed him aside. His body slammed into a far wall and fell to the ground in a heap.

Jamie’s pulse skyrocketed when Dani turned around and looked at them. And when Dani started to stalk in their direction, adrenaline coursed through Jamie; every nerve in her body was screaming for her to flee, to hide in some small dark place until this danger had passed over the land like the shadow of night. 

Dani’s cold gaze fell upon Rebecca, and she raised the lightsabre once more. 

“Woah!” Maybe it was the adrenaline or maybe it was the pain doing funny things to her head, but Jamie leapt in front of Rebecca, hands trembling and lifted as though in surrender. “No, no! I mean, yeah, I’m also mad at her, but I don’t want her to die!” 

“Thanks,” muttered Rebecca behind her. 

“Shut up,” Jamie muttered back. 

Dani had gone still, but the weapon was still a gleaming line of bloody crimson held overhead.

“She can get us a cruiser with a hyperdrive,” Jamie said. “We can get out of here. Just - put down the lightsabre? Please?” 

The elevator made a bright ding behind them and the doors slid open. Dani leveled the lightsabre and for a brief terrifying moment Jamie thought she was going to cut it straight through her from shoulder to hip. The blade stopped, pointing at Rebecca just over Jamie’s shoulder, and she made a sharp little gesture with the tip that Jamie could hear burning up the air right next to her ear. 

"Move," Dani ordered softly, and her voice sounded odd. As though there was more than one person speaking in unison.

Rebecca moved, backing slowly into the elevator. Lowering her hands, Jamie followed. Dani watched them with the fixedness of a predator, the air around her cold enough that Jamie shivered when Dani stepped into the small enclosed space with them. The lightsabre still seared in Dani’s fist, pointed towards the ground. Rebecca hit a button for hangar bay three, and the doors of the elevator shut with a hiss. 

The elevator started its descent. If this had been any other time, Jamie might have been tempted to reach out, gently grasp Dani’s wrist and urge her to put the lightsabre away. But this was not any other time, and there was nothing of the woman Jamie had grown to know over the last week in Dani’s face now. She stared blankly at the shut elevator doors, never blinking.

They arrived at hangar bay three and Rebecca immediately rushed over to the console that controlled access to the ship docked just beyond the hangar doors. She hooked something into the base of the console, making the screen flicker before giving her full admin privileges. As she started keying in the right commands, Jamie walked up beside her. 

Dani drifted behind her, blade in hand, completely silent. It felt like being followed by a mute ghost. 

Whatever Rebecca did worked. The hangar doors unlatched, turned, then slowly opened to reveal the sleek polished interior of a luxury cruiser yacht. Jamie stepped into the yacht’s entryway and looked around at the gleaming walls. Finally, Dani hit the button to sheathe the lightsabre and brushed past Jamie without a glance in her direction, vanishing around a corner of the cruiser. The brief contact made Jamie shiver. 

“Right. Okay,” said Jamie, hand pressing on the wound at her abdomen, still jittery from that feeling of being prey in the sights of something with very big teeth. She turned to Rebecca. “Fuck you, I guess?” 

From behind the console, Rebecca smiled weakly at her. “I suppose I deserve that. Does this mean I owe you a favour?”

“The biggest favour,” Jamie said gravely. “Like - seriously huge.”

“Until next time, then. Oh, and Jamie?” Rebecca said, and Jamie paused to glance back at her. “Don’t die.” 

Swallowing thickly, Jamie nodded, then Rebecca hit the button to shut the doors.  

Easier said than done.

#thobm #the haunting of bly manor #star wars #roman writes #no great revelation #damie #dani clayton/jamie