#Watching the life drain from her eyes while she's still alive ah | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shorkbrian · 3 years

Note

How about some barbarian bakugo noncon?

Prelude - One time I came home from a walk and smelled this scent so freaking thick that I could taste it, and I almost threw up cause it smelled like skinning a deer but like, ten times worse?? and I was like lol that’s kinda weird and it turns out the neighbor had caught a skunk in a catch-and-release trap (which we gave him cause we didn’t want him catching a skunk in a trap that’d kill it) and apparently decided to kill it right then and there, and just let it by the edge of his property, right by my car. That was fun.

Anyways, Katsuki makes a big deal about reader looking different in this. You can take that any way you’d like. Personally, I was feeling insecure about my freckles (I have so many that my skin almost looks even-toned because they almost all touch rip) and my hair color/odd face so I wrote him liking that reader looked different. It’s not super deep lol

Pairing - Bakugou Katsuki X Reader X slight Izuku Midoriya

Warnings - NSFW, dubcon, noncon, voyerisum, exhibistionism, blood mention lol. Idk groping?

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/4FeWr4OsidcJClBjUEBHWI?si=OPHwLWXrTsiNQ42SlMKLEg

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There is a point where you stop screaming.

A point when you realize that no one is coming to save you, that you’re wasting your breath, that it’s fruitless. Does nothing more than raw your throat and grate against your own ears.

It’s no use. The Barbarian King seems unaffected, perhaps even spurred on by your ear-splitting screams. There’s no reason to scream anymore - it’d be impossible to scream forever.

——

Village in flames, corpses littering the streets. You’d heard about the stench of death from books, from traveling warriors who stop in your village for a night, regaling the people with tales of heroics and strength. It smelled quite different from what you had imagined though.

Metallic, yes, but tangy, thick enough for you to taste the iron seeping into the ground. Raw, like the scent of the butcher’s shop, heavy and suffocating - you hadn’t been able to breathe.

Everything had happened so fast, too fast. People were dead, people were dying, people were killing and being killed. You had been running, trying to escape the stifling aroma of your village being drained, the barbarians running amok through the streets leeching out it’s lifeblood.

Then you had been falling, tripped up by a loose limb on the ground, a body still warm and rattling with it’s last breaths. Shocked by the vivid image of the gore underneath you, a man reaching for his severed arm, you hadn’t been able to catch yourself as you fell, a cry leaving your lips.

Darkness.

And then light as you slowly blinked to awareness, slumped on the ground. A line of prisoners, prizes from the raid. You were one of them, hands bound to your neck, ankles tied to the people on either side of you. Two men had come by after a while, a green haired man in dress similar to your own - perhaps a captured man from the village?

The other man was bare chested, as many of the barbarians were, gold and red paint swirled across his skin in intricate, sharp patterns. He looked fearsome, and he barked at the green haired man accompanying him who scribbled furiously onto paper at each utterance of the fearsome blonde man.

They seemed to be going down the lengthy line of prisoners, assigning them? Selecting them for something? You didn’t know, couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You were numb, sealed off from the horrific event you had just experienced, safe within your cocoon of forced apathy.

And then the two men were in front of you, the blonde man silent as he stared you down, the green haired man with his pen poised, though he studied you also.

But they quickly moved on, the barbarian barking something at his companion, before striding to the next prisoner.

You had been untied from your fellow captives, led through the barbarian camp. Red tents, warm fires and laughter filled the space, bare-chested warriors of both genders celebrating their recent victory.

The large red tent you had been led to was warm, a fire crackling in the deep pit in the center, silky furs softening the harshness of the ground. There was a table in front of the fire, a large basin filled with water nearby, close to the fire. A desk in the corner, near the tent flap, and a folding screen hiding the back of the tent from view.

Promptly tied to the leg of a table, you were left alone, the woman who had dragged you here leaving before you could ask what was happening.

Shortly, green hair popped through the tent flap, quickly followed by the rest of the man from earlier, the one dressed like your people.

“Izuku Midoriya!” He had introduced himself, giving a little flourish as he bowed, before being pushed aside as the fearsome blonde from before entered the tent.

Still tied to the leg of the table, numb to the world, you merely stared at the ground when the two men approached.

“What’s your name?” The green haired man - Izuku - asked.

He was met with a blank stare.

The blonde man growled at your lack of answer, spitting something in his native tongue, words you didn’t understand. Izuku seemed to shrink, before turning to address you again.

“Please tell us your name. Kacchan is not the most patient man.”

The fearsome man beside him bared his teeth towards you, and you shrank back. He did not seem the type of person who tolerated being left waiting.

“(Y/N)….” You whispered, eyes falling to the ground.

“(Y/N), ah! Such an interesting name, the first part means-“ Izuku was cut off from his ramble with a shove from the blond man - Kacchan - who crouched down in front of you, rolling your name around his tongue.

Turning, he spoke to Izuku in the same jumbled language, who listened, then addressed you as Kacchan turned back to study you again.

“Kacchan would like to know uhm, uuh.....” Izuku trailed off, uncertain eyes flickering between you and the blonde.

Kacchan scoffed, listening to Izuku’s hesitancy with disdain, saying something directed at the younger man, yet Kacchan’s eyes were fixed on you the entire time. It was intimidating.

“He uh, wants to know ifyou’reavirgin.”

Oh god.

Even though the man’s words were rushed, you understood, limbs beginning to shake. You were going to be violated.

A finger poking your calf made you jump, the blonde man leering at you, head cocked to the side, eyebrow raised as if to say “Well?”

You shook your head - lovers had existed in your life, not many, but you still cherished each one deeply, thought back on the experiences you shared fondly.

When relayed this information, the blonde man seemed to grin even wider, rising to his feet. “This will be easier then, no need to go slow.”

With a gasp, you lifted your gaze, wide eyes taking in the man hovering above you. His words were completely forgotten as you took in the shock of understanding his words. He spoke your tongue? Wasn’t he using an interpreter? Why-?

The confusion must be apparent on your face, because Kacchan scoffed, turning to stride to the table, taking a seat facing the fire.

“It pays to play dumb.”

“Loose lipped locals give information more freely when they assume that Kacchan can’t understand them.” Izuku beamed, crouching down in the Barbarian’s previous place to begin untying the rope binding your hands and feet to the table leg.

“Stand up for me please.”

You did as Izuku asked, shakily rising to your feet with a helping hand from Izuku on your arm. He began leading you towards the basin nearby, Kacchan watching the two of you with sharp eyes.

“Do you need help with the fastenings?” Giving Izuku a confused look, your eyes fell to the basin, to the fire, to Kacchan seated at the table. Were they going…. Were they going to boil you alive? Eat you?

Trembling even harder now, it was only Izuku’s surprisingly strong grip on your arm that kept you upright, knees giving out beneath you.

“Help her out, she’s damn near useless.” Kacchan’s strong voice cut through the air, the air that seemed too thick, the air that was choking you, throat closing up.

What does one even do in this situation? Do you beg for your life? Scream for help? Who would come? Accept your inevitable fate?

There was no time to make a decision, however, because Izuku’s nimble fingers were pulling at the fastening of your dress, quickly unlacing it.

You were numb again, fingers leaden, legs heavy, mind fuzzy and listless. Izuku peeled down the top of your dress, and you barely thought to cover yourself - you’d be dead in minutes anyways, what did it matter?

Still, your hands rose to your breasts, shielding them from view involuntarily. Kacchan snorted from his sweat, but said nothing.

When you were completely bare, an arm over your chest, a hand over your sex, Izuku ushered you towards the basin, prompting you to step into it.

This was it, you were going to die.

One last shot of fear raced up your spine, and you turned to the green haired man by your side, his hand falling away from the small of your back. “Please, please don’t kill me, I don’t know what I did but please spare my life. Please, I’m sorry.” Tears were burning your vision, throat choked up with thickness.

Kacchan burst into laughter. “I’m not gonna kill you, the fuck?! Goddamn, your people call us barbarians yet you’re afraid of a bath, fucking hypocrites.” There was a mirthful glint in his eyes when you looked at him, the man leaning back in his chair, arms resting behind his head as he relaxed.

Izuku chuckled also, putting his hand on your lower back again, gently pushing you towards the basin. “You’ll be okay, it’s just some warm water. It’s close to the fire because we don’t want you to catch a chill. You know, the human body actually operates best when it’s within the temperatures of-“

“Deku, shut your trap before I come kick your ass, just get the girl into the water, you dumb fuck.”

The water was warm, and it felt pleasant against your skin, just on the right side of too warm, hot enough to have you relaxing your shoulders as you sank down lower, the liquid covering you up to your neck.

Izuku-Deku? Held your hair out of the way, quickly using a scoop to wet down the strands before rubbing some kind of herbal scrub through your scalp, cleaning out the dirt and debris that had gathered during the raid. You were certain you were absolutely filthy, covered in mud and small scraps, half of your side crusted with dried blood and muck from falling in the bloody street.

For a moment, you felt embarrassed at your earlier panic, silly and like a stupid child, thinking that they were going to boil and eat you. It was clear now what their intent had been, but riddled with fear your thoughts had been clouded and slow.

Fear was still present, rolling through your brain in waves, goosebumps rising from your flesh as you tried to hypothesize what was going to happen to you. From their earlier questioning, you had a faint idea, but you couldn’t bear to think about that outcome, didn’t know if you could tolerate it.

Instead, you let the warm water soothe your body, washing away the grime and dust. Izuku’s hands were gentle in your hair, as he massaged your scalp, as he rinsed out the soap. You tried to ignore how his breath hitched whenever you shifted - you couldn’t keep all of your body covered, no matter how you positioned yourself.

His hands disappeared from your hair, instead prompting your to sit up straight so he could scrub at your body with a cloth smelling of the herbal soap.

It felt weird, and goosebumps arose on your skin as strange hands touched your body. You closed your eyes and endured, for there was nothing else that could be done.

Running would be a bad idea - a naked woman sprinting through the barbarian camp would surely be caught and violated, or brought back to this tent for some twisted punishment. And you could only run if you managed to get past the two men, who ere watching you like hawks, and much, much stronger than you.

Izuku’s hands paused briefly at your chest, eyes flickering over to the blonde man, who nodded in permission. Then Izuku’s hand were running the cloth across your breasts, washing them in gentle circular motions, taking care to not scrub too hard or push too deep.

You bit your tongue as you waited for it to be over.

And it was soon, at least that part. Then the green haired man was instructing you up on your knees, facing him. Telling you to grab onto his shoulder (the man was also kneeling) and spread your legs apart.

Trembling limbs obeyed, face flushing bright red as you followed his commands, eyes squeezing shut so you wouldn’t have to look at his own flushed face.

He ran the cloth down your back, over your ass, then slipped it between your legs to wash your sex with easy swipes of the cloth. The man’s breathing picked up subtly, and you could tell, leaning up against him as you were. His hands wandered, the cloth moving slower and slower upon your cunt, almost stroking at your folds, his fingers pressing through the cloth.

“Oi, Deku! Keep your shitty hands to yourself, you’re supposed to be washing her up, not feeling her up, shitbrain.” Kacchan barked, slamming his fist down against the table to get Izuku’s attention.

Both you and the man in front of you jumped, Izuku immediately blushing the deepest red you’d ever seen, flashing the blonde an apologetic look and you a nervous smile, before he seemed to gather himself, continuing to dutifully cleanse your nether regions.

It was awkward for the both of you, feeling his hands run over your private areas, over your sex, through your ass cheeks. But then he was down, rinsing you off with scoops of warm water before fetching a large towel, ushering you out of the basin, holding out the towel to wrap around your body when you stepped out.

Then you were ushered closer to the fire, sat upon a small stool as you huddled close to the warmth, clutching the towel tightly around you. The air was quite warmer than outside, but was still cold to your wet skin.

Izuku began running his fingers through your hair, parting knots, patting sections dry with a corner of the towel. By the time he was finished, you felt warm again, face rosy from the heat of the fire.

The heat felt pleasant, like the feeling of a full belly after a long day.

You were tired, exhausted from the emotional weight you had endured. Village burned, tripping over corpses and disembodied limbs, taken captive, forced away from your fellow villagers. Stripped down and fondled - at this point, you just wanted to sleep.

To sleep and sleep, wake up and have this all be a bad dream. Some twisted nightmare your mind conjured up while in the warmth and safety of your own home.

A large hand upon your shoulder roused you from your half-asleep state, lulled by the warmth of the fire and the quietness of the tent. You jumped, turning to find Kacchan towering over you and Izuku both.

Kacchan crouched, his hand sliding from your shoulder to your hair, then onto your cheek. “You look so fuckin’ weird.”

Izuku sputtered. “Oh my god, what he means to say, is that we’ve never seen anyone like you before. You’re… quite unique, and very um, attractive.”

You leaned away from the hand on your cheek, and Kacchan let you, red eyes blinking slowly as they scanned your features. He was an odd man, as was Izuku. There was an obvious dynamic of power, Izuku submitting to Kacchan willingly.

“Alright, you’re dry enough, get up.” You blinked at Kacchan, processing his words, before he huffed out a breath, rising to his own feet. “C’mon, let’s go, are you stupid? Get the fuck up.”

You scrambled to your feet, towel still wrapped tightly around your body, preserving your modesty.

Kacchan’s hand shot out, gripping the back of your neck, pulling you along with him as he strode towards the back of the tent, towards the sectioned screen acting as a wall.

“Deku, make your ass useful and dump out the bathwater, will ya?”

You weren’t able to see Izuku move due to the hand forcing your head forward, but you could hear his footsteps as he hurried to do what Kacchan instructed.

Rounding the screen, it was clear to see that this was where the Barbarian King slept, a pile of cozy-looking furs strewn in a pile on the ground.

You were promptly shoved towards them, stumbling down to your knees as you lost your balance. The furs provided cushion though, soft and inviting.

But you were scared again.

It was happening, it was going to happen, you were going to raped by the King.

Turning back towards the man, you began to plead, hands securing the towel around your shoulders like a safety blanket. “Sir, please, don’t do this, why me? You can have anyone, not me, please not me.”

He ignored you in favor of beginning to strip, unfastening his cloak, removing his weapons. You decided to try and appeal using a more personal approach.

“Kacchan-“

Suddenly the man was in your face, his own visage twisted into a growl.

“Don’t you ever fucking call me that. Stupid ass Deku made that shit up when we were kids, I’m not some brat anymore. I’m Katsuki-“ He backed away from you, leaving you trembling. “-Barbarian King.”

The man resumed removing his clothes, dropping his belt to the ground, grumbling as he began to undo his pants. “Should beat his fuckin’ ass for calling me that, so goddamn disrespectful. Fuck him, stupid little ass wipe twerp-“

You tuned him out, frozen. What could you do? Another impasse where your options were none.

A strong hand gripped your shoulder, or more accurately, your towel, tugging it forcefully away from you.

“No!” You cried, trying to pull it back, to cover yourself, but the man was stronger, ripping it away before you could utter another word.

“No! Stop, please!” You tried again, finally taking in Kacc-Katsuki before you. He was naked now, aside from the paint decorating his skin. His cock was quickly hardening, plumping up with each step he took towards you as you scrambled backwards.

“Katsuk-Katsuki, I’m begging you, please don’t do this. I’ll do anything! Please just have someone else!” You sobbed, back finally meeting the wall of the tent.

Katsuki smirked, crouching down just out of your reach. “You’ll do anything? You’ll let my horde use you as a toy then?”

Dread flowed through your already fear-filled body, and you gulped thickly, eyes closing.

“No?”

Shaking your head, you started to cry silently, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“You’re already doing fucking anything.” Katsuki growled, hand shooting out to grab your ankle, dragging you down and towards him.

A high-pitched cry left you as he pulled you under him, until he was hovering over you, grinning. “Cry all you want, ain’t gonna change a damn thing. In fact-“ He surged down, until his forehead touched your own, red eyes blazing “-It just turns me on more.”

The man pulled away, a hand falling heavily around your throat, giving a compulsory squeeze before hie started moving his hand downwards, fingers skimming across your flesh.

Immediately, your own hands caught his own, trying to still their journey as they neared your breasts. Katsuki paused, a sound akin to a growl falling from his throat as his eyes flickered away from your body and up to your own eyes.

There was a threat there, a warning. Let him touch, or else. Trembling, you removed your hands, instead grabbing at the furs you rested upon. Katsuki made a gruff sound of approval, before resuming his exploration of your body.

“You’re like nothing I’vs ever seen before, know that? Like some fuckin’ alien or something, but damn, you’re gorgeous. Didn’t even know someone could look like this.” He mused, entranced as he watched his hands splay over your body, pinching at your skin, caressing your breasts, slipping over your stomach and down between your legs.

“Oh god, pleaseee-“ You sobbed out, cringing as a finger trailed down your slit.

Katsuki stilled, quirking a brow as he smiled meanly. “Please what? You wanna cum?”

“Please stop…” You whispered, eyes clenching shut again as he found your clit, giving it a few quick rubs.

The man scoffed, before quickly teasing one of his fingers into your tight hole. “Tough shit, I’ve never had whatever the fuck you are, I ain’t stopping”

His finger burned, dry and too large, and you struggled to keep from clenching down upon it in discomfort, trying to force out the intrusion. This would go easier if you relaxed, if you let him have his way. You knew that, rationally, but it was hard to make you body obey.

Katsuki prepped you quickly, fingering you open until he deemed you ready, withdrawing his fingers and crudely wiping them off upon your thigh. You twitched away at the wetness, at your own slick being cleaned off on your skin, but Katsuki ignored you.

“Why do you look like this anyway? What the fuck happened?” Katsuki asked coarsely, shuffling off of your thighs, moving to lounge by your side, studying you.

The man seemed to be taking a break, more interested in your looks than fucking you, but you were glad for the reprieve, trying to wipe tears from your face as you struggled to think of a response.

“I-I don’t know?” You finally spoke, genuinely at a loss for how to explain your appearance.

Katsuki studied you with sharp eyes, a hand reaching down to his cock, beginning to absent-mildly pump himself while he looked you over.

“I’ve traveled through every shitty little village in the north, met with the damn piss-baby tribes of the east, I’ve ransacked the towns of spoiled nobles, and I’ve never seen anyone who looks like you.”

You sat up, subtly shuffling away from the Barbarian King while you shrugged, at a loss.

Your appearance wasn’t anything superiorly unusual, but apparently it piqued Katsuki’s interest. Yes, your skin was perhaps a bit different, but it’s not like you were inhuman.

Katuski seemed to get tired of talking though, settling further back into the furs, getting himself comfortable as he jerked himself off. You refused to look between his legs.

“Alright, whatever. Get up here.”

Pausing, you looked at him incredulously. Did he mean on his lap? His chest? You didn’t want to be anywhere near him - wouldn’t he find more pleasure with someone who was willing?

“Are you fucking deaf? C’mon, up.” He growled, patting his thigh, urging you over.

A gulp before you started moving, limbs heavy and hesitant, unwilling as you slowly crawled forward, towards the intimidating, impatient blonde.

You straddled his thighs unsteadily, swinging your leg over, trying to avoid touching his cock.

Unfortunately, despite your best efforts, you caught sight of it, the red tip, the precum making his length shine, the wrinkly, darker skin of his balls, his blond pubes.

You cringed, distaste evident upon your face, and you heard Katsuki chuckle darkly before his hands grabbed your hips, dragging you forward.

“What, don’t fucking like what you see? Am I not to your taste? I’ve fucked whorebag princesses less fussy than you. Get over yourself.” He spat, before taking a hand off your hip, reaching underneath you to line himself up as his other hand kept you lifted.

You trembled in his hold, twitching and swaying to the side, but this was unavoidable.

A gasp left your lips as he entered you, tip slipping through your folds, teasing into your wet hole, stretching you out.

Katsuki let out a groan, slowly dropping you down until he could remove his hand from his cock, returning it to your hip, guiding you to push further down. You felt disgusting, his cock sliding against your velvety insides, dirtying your walls with leaking precum.

When your sit bones rested against his upper thighs, his cock resting fully inside you, it felt impossible to breathe, your chest rising to draw in air but failing, the distress you felt upon being speared open seemingly too much for your body to handle.

“Fucking hell, you’re so tight. You got a dirty little cunt, don’t you? Feels fucking amazing.” Katsuki groaned, moving his hips minutely, relishing the grip your inside had on his cock, how warm you were around him.

“Ride me, will you? I’m getting bored down here.” He snapped after a moment, delivering a harsh slap to your rear to emphasize his words, spurring you into tentative action.

Problem is, you didn’t want to.

Your palms rested against his heated chest, eyes raising to the ceiling as your cheeks burned. This was embarrassing, you couldn’t do this. You couldn’t be an active participant in your violation. What would that make you?

“Oi, princess - I don’t got all night.“ Katsuki growled, landing a significantly more-jarring hit to rear, hard enough to make you squeak and jump, hips twitching at the sensation of his cock moving around your pussy at the movement.

Afraid of more forceful repercussions, you started to move, slowly sliding up, then down, creeping along, hoping it’d be enough to satisfy the man.

It wasn’t.

Katsuki grumbled something under his breath, before tightening his hold on your hips, planting his feet in the furs, then plunging into you with force. The sudden movement jostled you, and you fell forward with a cry, head bouncing onto Katsuki’s chest by your hands, the man groaning as he found a satisfactory rhythm.

“There we go, that’s fuckin’ nice.”

You cried into his chest, hands clutched into fists as you were bounced up and down, the led slap of skin too loud and jarring in the tent. The paint on Katsuki’s body was beginning to smear, sweat dampening his skin and letting the paint drip onto the ground, transfer to your own skin.

It was starting to feel good, make your stomach tighten, limbs tremble with pleasure instead of fear, and you hated it.

Slick sounds reached your ears, out of rhythm with Katsuki’s quick prods. It was wet, pulsing, as if someone-

Gasping breaths reached your ears, not from the man grunting beneath you.

Another round of cold fear dampened your arousal as you honed in on the sound, realizing it was coming from the other side of the screen.

Someone was on the other side of the screen, listening in to the Barbarian King taking you against your will.

A stuttered cry left you when Katsuki pushed too hard, hitting your sweet spot, making you clench and shudder, forgetting about the other person for a second.

But they were so loud, little gasps and moans, and the shlick, shlick, shlick, was getting faster and faster, it was impossible to ignore.

Should you try to tell Katsuki? Would he stop? Would he be mad? It was so disturbing, knowing someone was sitting on the other side of the screen, jerking themselves off so obviously .

“Katsuki-Katsuki wait, oh-“ You started, quickly cut off by a series of battering thrusts against your sweet spot.

But you had to try again. “Wait, sto-o-op, wa-unh, unh, Katsuki pl-mmh!”

“Shut up, I don’t fucking care.” The man snapped, out of breath.

“But there’s-oh…. Katsuki there’s someo-“

“I don’t /fucking care/.” Katsuki reiterated, gritting his teeth. He shut you up with another perfectly placed push against your sweet spot, and a cruel spank against your already-stinging ass.

“Ow!” You yelped, clenching up. It was clear now, that Katsuki was aware of the listener, he just didn’t mind. Maybe he got off on it, knowing someone was listening to him take apart his latest conquest.

Clenching up was the wrong response, because the Barbarian King swore, before his hips sped up, bouncing you so violently on his lap that you found it hard to breath, barely able to hang on for the ride.

“Oh…. (Y/N)….” The voice behind the screen moaned lowly, almost whispering.

It was Izuku.

You shivered, at the sound, feeling creeped out with the knowledge that the gentle, timid “interpreter” was listening. He must have returned at some point from dumping out the basin. You were feeling revolted by this entire situation, disgusted with Katsuki, Izuku, and most importantly with yourself.

Pleasure was building quickly in your stomach, zapping up into your chest, making you tingle and shake with the sensations assaulting your body.

“Sit back, fucking sit back-“ Katsuki panted, pushing at one of your shoulders to push you up, so he could see you as he fucked up into you, watch your body move, your face contorting in pleasure.

You felt like you couldn’t help it, your eyes closing, mouth falling open to let out girlish, high-pitched moans.

Your breasts were being jostled, jiggling up and down with the movement of your body, and it hurt. Hands moved to hold them, stopping their bouncing, but Katsuki appreciated the view apparently, because he groaned, pushing his head back while still trying to watch you.

“Fuck, that’s so hot. Keep touching yourself princess, keep moaning like a little slut. Let Deku know how fucking good I’m making you feel.”

Your body didn’t give you a choice, noises being pushed from your throat involuntarily as Katsuki pounded into you, red eyes trained on your frame, intense and unwavering.

An orgasm ripped through you, seemingly out of nowhere despite the steady buildup of it the past few minutes. You gasped, breathing catching in your throat, hips furiously grinding down against Katsuki’s as you rode it out, trying to stimulate your clit to intensify the feeling.

The noises leaving you were perverted; wet gasps, little squeaks and long moans as you fucked yourself onto Katsuki’s cock, previous hesitance forgotten in preference of chasing your pleasure.

Katsuki swore underneath you again, rabbiting his hips up into you in response, breathing raggedly as he neared his own release.

You were so lost in feeling the sensations in your own body, you didn’t register the stuttered groans on the other side of the screen, the speedy clicking of Izuku jerking himself through his own orgasm, the almost-silent spatter of his cum hitting the screen.

Katsuki swore once more, a vehement “Shit, shit!” before he pulled out quickly, orgasm apparently catching him by surprise, the first few warm strings of cum shooting into your warm cunt, adding to the wet mess of your own orgasm.

The rest was aimed onto the puffy lips of your slit, one of Katsuki’s hands leaving your hips to pump his cock as he gasped, hips twitching upward at the sudden temperature change from your burning heat to the air of the tent.

Then there was just the sound of three people breathing heavily, completely spent, sweaty and dirtied from sex.

Katsuki pulled you down onto his chest, chuckling breathlessly as he brought his clean hand to your head, ruffling your hair tiredly.

“Well, you’re a goddamn catch, pussy’s like a fuckin’ vice.” The crude comment made your cheeks color, but as exhausted as you were, you couldn’t find the energy to offer a rebuttal.

“I think you’re gonna stick around for a while.” Katsuki mused, and you felt your heart drop. “Yeah, you’re a keeper. Maybe if fuckface over there-“ The blond slapped at the screen “-can stop being a pervert, we could actually fuck without feeling creeped out.” He growled, although the blonde didn’t sound irritated in the least.

A small “Sorry Kacchan” was whispered from the other side of the screen, and Katsuki laughed dryly.

“Tell you what bastard, maybe I’ll let you touch her a bit.” Katsuki said, a hand creeping down to knead at your ass. “Then you don’t have to act like a little freak. Who knows, maybe I’ll even let you fuck her if you do good translating those maps we found. Got it, you little shitnugget?”

“Mm, alright Kacchan.” Came the tired response.

You were barely awake, already drifting off on Katsuki’s warm chest, too preoccupied with the red and gold paint no doubt smearing against your cheek than with the conversation going on around you.

You could panic about that later.

#fun skunk story #srsly the air was so thicc #it made my eyes water and my stomach cramp #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #barbarian #barbarian katsuki #barbarian bakugou #tw dubcon #tw noncon #dark bakugou #kidnapping #captive #blood #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere

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stressedoutcanary · 3 years

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Do You Ever Feel Like A Misfit (Everything Inside You Is Dark & Twisted)

Dick Grayson x Reader

Word Count: 3.5K (I don't know how tf that happened)

Warnings: Explicit language, Blood and Violence, lots of angst, Hurt/Comfort ✌

A/N: Guess who's back! Just for some context the reader is a magic user and her style is similar to that of Zatanna <3

•°•°•°•°

She’d have reasoned with herself that stealing from one of the most secure and heavily guarded safe-houses of a deranged sociopath was probably not the brightest idea she’s had all day. It never even made it on her to-do-list for the weekend, but here she was, running across rooftops, holding on to the stolen totem like her life depended on it, it probably did. The three assassins sent after her were no Lady Shiva or Talia Al Ghul but they weren’t exactly amateurs either. The deep cuts and two broken ribs she got from their earlier encounter were proof of that.

She glanced back and even though there was no sign of her would-be-killers she knew better than to assume they’d just let her be. They were sticking to the shadows, exploiting her blind spots. The only thing she was sure of was that they were still hot on her trail and would happily plunge a dagger into her back given the opportunity.

She was right. As of this moment she hated being right.

She caught the glint of the two sharp objects slicing through the air, hurtling towards her at full speed. A slight shift of her upper body was all she could manage as one of the daggers got embedded right into her scapula while the other one, fortunately so, whirled past her, slightly grazing her left hip. The impact of the blade on her shoulder made her lose what little balance she had left. Despite her best efforts, when the wounded shoulder made contact with the hard concrete, a loud, ear-piercing cry ripped out from her throat before she could push it back down.

Cursing under her breath she knew, she knew all she had were those few seconds of numbness and disorientation to get a grip and figure out her exit strategy. However, all her hopes started to sink as she saw one of the assassins come closer, appearing more of a blur than a person. Then again that was probably because of the nice, little concussion she got from her fall. The assassin walked over to her, unsheathed their sword and placed it right on her neck, blocking any and every way out.

“You were warned. The Demon’s Head does not tolerate treachery. We are here under his orders to bring back the totem along with the witch’s head; your head”

If she could, she would’ve rolled her eyes at the classic villainous dialogues thrown at her.

“Witch? Who’re you calling a witch Snow White? I’m clearly a sorceress, don’t they teach you the difference between the two in assassin school or something? Hell, I’d even let you call me an enchantress, though that name’s already been taken but you get my poin-”

The remaining words died in her throat as the sword on her neck shifted slightly. She knew she had extremely poor self preservation skills considering she’s clearly been instigating the very person sent to kill her, but even she wasn’t dumb enough to keep talking when the tiniest movement on either part could result in her having a severed jugular or carotid.

‘This is a pretty shitty way to die’

She thought back to how she used the last of her mystic energy to hide the totem away before her fall and how stupid that decision really was because now she could actually feel the agonizing pain coming from her shoulder. It started to spread throughout her back like wildfire, eyelids grew heavy against her wishes. Suddenly she felt really tired and the idea to close her eyes just felt so goddamn appealing.

‘No (Y/N) that’s the blood loss talking. Blood loss doesn’t get to make decisions’, she mentally scolded herself, still not breaking her eye contact with the person standing above her.

“Give us what you stole and we shall grant you the mercy of a quick death.”

That made her raise an eyebrow, “Ah, lemme think...the correct response here would be…”, she hummed, making a show of how hard she was thinking about the offer she was granted, “How about a fuck you? How would that do for you?”, she gave them a vicious grin, it was all teeth. They probably weren’t impressed by her response and it showed.

She knew there was no way out but she had promised herself once that if she were to die, that if she ever goes out, she’d be anything but a whimpering and sobbing mess. She was scared shitless, more so than she’d ever been while fending off the league, she won’t deny that but she would rather die than let them know that. ‘Well at least I got that ‘rather die’ part down to a T.’ she thought, eyeing the sharpness of the blade which was now raised up in the air

She felt bad for just giving up the way she did. Her whole life she was told to fight her way through the impossible, to attain the strength rivaling that of Zatanna Zatara, John Constantine and Doctor Fate himself. To be better than them, and there she was lying on the ground limp as a sword came down on her throat; all for a silly necklace. She would’ve huffed out a laugh if only her ribs weren’t broken, if only her body wasn’t screaming in pain, if only she had a way out. She didn’t. She was too tired, too drained, too numb to do anything else. Closing her eyes she stopped fighting, she let her growing unconsciousness claim her.

‘This is what you deserve anyway’, her barely there conscience remarked.

‘Fuck you too.’ she replied.

Everything went pitch black. The darkness encompassing her was peaceful, unlike the pain she had felt before. It was nice for a change. It sounded pathetic but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

•°•°

When she came to, the first thing she observed was the feeling of something soft against her back, next was a dull rhythmic sound which she realized was her own heartbeat. Though opening her eyes was a tiring task. It shouldn’t have been, but it was. She used all the energy she had into it and her eyelids fluttered open. She stared at the white ceiling and stayed like that for a few seconds; a few minutes? She couldn’t tell, but the pain was back now, not too much but enough to tell her it was there, to tell she was still alive.

She saw something shift in her peripheral vision and her body instinctively went stiff. Her mind which was blank before now ran in all directions.

‘Could be Ra’s Al Ghul… Could be worse’, she tried not to think about the worst case scenario, but she knew she had pissed off a lot of beings, beings far more powerful and far crueler than Ra’s himself. An involuntary shudder passed through her at the thought. That must’ve caught her captor’s attention as she felt the person move closer to her. Begrudgingly, she tore her gaze from the spot on the ceiling which she had been staring at this whole time and tilted her head. The man in black and blue who appeared, was probably the last person she had expected to see.

“Nightwing…”

Her voice was barely above a whisper and the hoarseness with which it came out it took her by surprise, but her body visibly relaxed at the sight of the familiar figure, at the sight of someone who would never hurt her.

She watched him pull out a chair from the desk nearby. He sat next to the bed she was lying on and gave her a soft smile, a smile that spelled one word ‘relieve’. She remembered how when she first met him two years ago, she found that particular smile extremely annoying, she had no reason to, but she did. What she couldn’t remember was when she had grown so fond of it.

“How do you feel?”

“Like shit.”

He snorted a laugh which made her pout. She was planning to point out how he was being mean; laughing at her when her response truly defined the way she was feeling, but any words she thought of were cut off by the change in his expression. His smile faltered, lips were now pressed in a thin line, face contorted in a way which showed his genuine concern.

“This is the second time, this week.”

That you almost died, he didn’t say. That I had to save you and bring you back from the clutches of death, he didn’t say.

“I know.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“I know.”

The silence that settled, stretched far too long for comfort, but she wasn’t going to be the one to break it. She wanted to, but there was nothing she could say, that would make it better. Nightwing ran his fingers through the locks of hair, burying his face in his hands.

For the first time since she woke up, she took in his appearance, he looked disheveled, his suit was torn in different places along visible faint cuts, most likely he got them when he rescued her. She felt a pang of guilt rising in her chest. He risked his life for her, she knew he had done it before, she didn’t get it then and she didn’t get it now. Why would someone do that? Why would he? She was pulled back from her spiraling thoughts when he spoke again, exhaustion evident in his voice.

“Why are you so reckless?”

“Excuse me?”

She looked at him like he had grown another head. She wasn’t ready for this conversation but by the looks of it they were gonna have it anyway.

“What if I hadn’t been there today? Or any of the other days you almost died. What then?”

“My best guess? I would’ve been dead.”

“And that fact doesn’t bother you at all?!”

She flinched at little when his voice rose, but she stood her ground, at least figuratively since she was still in bed.

“I don’t know, should it?” She didn’t try and tone down the venom dripping from her words. Her words cut deeper than the wounds he got from the assassins; she saw it clear as day on his face. She let out a deep sigh but continued. She had to get it out and he had to hear it, that’s the reason she gave herself for the confession that followed.

“I don’t need your help, Dick. I don’t know what gave you the impression that I did but I’ve never needed it.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘Why was it getting harder to speak?’ “I don’t need you to save me every time. I don’t need you to risk your life for me and I definitely don’t…” She moved to sit up straight, her back resting on the headboard. She shifted her gaze on her open palms resting in her lap; palms covered in blood, in her blood, not very long ago.

“I don’t need you to care...”

The last part was a whisper and Dick was silent, so silent that for a brief moment she wondered if the man she’d come to care about even heard her, admitting something that was so painful for her to say out loud.

Dick moved to sit beside her, his shoulder bumping hers. He didn’t know where all this was coming from but he knew better to leave it unattended.

“(Y/N) I help you because I care about you. I always will, you know that.”

“Why? You have nothing to gain from it”, blinking back the unshed tears in her eyes, she looked at him with a hurt expression as if she couldn’t bring herself to understand.

“Why… as in why do I care?”, Dick tilted his head to look her in the eyes, trying to understand what she meant all the while making sure not to let his own surprise at her words show. She nodded not trusting her voice to not betray her anymore than it already had.

“I don’t care about you because I feel like you need it nor because I would gain something from it”, Dick knew he shouldn’t have to explain it to her. He briefly wondered what she had gone through to make her think that she needed to be useful to be cared for or that she had to need it to be cared for. He felt something pull at his heart at the thought; It was sorrow.

“I care about you because… well I do and there’s nothing you could or couldn’t do to change that. And it is because I care about you that I ask you to be better at taking care of yourself. Now I know for a fact that whatever you stole from The League’s safehouse definitely did not belong there, but I also know that whatever it was, it wasn’t worth your life (Y/N) It never will be.”

Dick grasped one of her hands, interlacing his gloved fingers with hers; she hadn’t even realized she was shaking until he did so. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to take a deep breath despite her protesting ribs. Opening the palm of her free hand she muttered an incantation with practiced ease

“Eveirter tahw saw neddih “, her hand glowed, the golden aura taking the shape of a object. When the light subsided, Dick saw the object in her palm as she rubbed her thumb across it, quietly leaning her head on his shoulder.

“It was this totem. It belongs to Madame Xanadu. Don’t know what Ra’s wanted it for though”, she shrugged as best as she could with an injured shoulder then continued, voice firmer than it had been the whole evening,“ She asked me to retrieve it in exchange for information on a girl I was looking for. The girl was somehow sucked into some other dimension, a mystic one and her mother was so desperate when she approached me that I just couldn’t say no. So when I say the Totem was important, then I want you to know that it really is.”

Dick shook his head at that. “Still not worth your life.”

“Dick…”, she sighed. It was all she could do at the moment because she was really getting tired from all the arguing.

“Do you remember the first time we met?”

“You mean the time I met the infamous vigilante Nightwing in a dumpster of all places.”

“In my defense I was badly injured”, she hummed in agreement.

“You smelled bad”

“You try smelling like flowers after falling from a building and into an open dumpster.”

His playful grumbling pulled a short laugh out of her. She was more than a little confused at the sudden trip into the past but happily accepted it as a change of topic. She should’ve know better than to think he’d have let the matter go.

“Anyway my point is when you saw me that day, you first instinct was to help me. You pulled me out and used your magic to heal my wounds. You didn’t have to. You could’ve dropped me at a hospital. You could’ve even walked away and pretended that you never saw me, but you didn’t. Why is that?”

“Because I thought you were handsome?”, she said trying to lighten this too-heavy-for-comfort conversation he was trying to have.

“Nice try. I know you. You saved me because you cared. You helped me and the Titans save the city more than once because you cared. It is who you are. I’ve seen you care about and worry over complete strangers without conditions. So why do you think that there has to be some kind of a barter system when it comes to you? Why think that I would want to gain something if I cared about you?”

“Because everyone else did.”

The words shot out from her mouth quicker than she realized. She had voiced her greatest insecurity to the one person who never had anything to add to it and Dick’s heart clenched at the implications of her words, ‘She has never been loved unconditionally before’ his brain provided.

The tears she blinked back earlier came back with full force. She felt two strong arms that wrapped around her, all the while being mindful of her injuries. Dick pulled her into a hug and that was it. She couldn’t control the sobs that tore through her throat, the pain in her body flared due her erratic movements. She knew once the tears started flowing they wouldn’t stop at least not for a while, but now that her façade had been broken she couldn’t bring herself to give it another thought.

He waited for her to let it out, let out all the pent up emotions she had. Now that he thought about it he had never seen her cry. He never questioned it, maybe he should’ve.

“I don’t know who’s responsible for hurting you (Y/N), God, how much I wish I did”, his arms slightly tighten around her at that. “I am so sorry that you have felt like you have to have your walls up all the time, even around me and I should’ve seen that, I should’ve realized that before but I didn’t and I am so sorry for that. I can’t undo the damage you’ve endured and I will not pretend that I can. What I can do is promise you that I’d never let you down like that, never.”

The words he spoke were clear. He didn’t try to tell her to put her walls down, to trust him when she had no reason to. He also didn’t need to justify himself or make such over the top promises but it felt nice to hear it. She had already stopped crying the moment he started speaking again but she still had her forehead pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, it was calming in a way she couldn’t describe. She pulled her head back to look at him, and the honesty in his voice earlier matched the one in his eyes.

“Okay”

Hearing her response, he gave her his signature grin. It sent unexpected warmth through her, he always had that effect on her. She was sure she was just blushing at this point and was suddenly thankful for the dim lighting in the room.

She ended up composing herself rather quickly, jabbing a finger at his armored chest with her usual smirk plastered on her face.

“Now that you’ve made that promise, know this, Dick Grayson, if you let me down I will drop a mountain on you.”

“You mean that figuratively?”

“No I mean that geologically”, he waited for her to say she was kidding. She didn’t.

“Alright, alright”, He held his hands out in mock surrender. After considering the look in her eyes, Dick refrained from questioning the feasibility of that action nor did he want to question her magical abilities or intent. Last he remembered, Wally did that and that conversation ended with him being teleported to Sahara and Dick would very much like to avoid the same fate as his best friend.

Deciding that was more than enough exhaustion for one night, he got up from the bed and kissed her goodnight, informing her that he’d be sleeping on the couch so that he wouldn’t accidently hit her injuries in his sleep. She agreed and watched him slip out of the room before falling into the blissful sleep she had been putting off since forever.

•°•°

She knew Dick Grayson was full of surprises but the next morning when he put forward the offer of become a full time Titan, in front of her, she wondered if she fell from the bed in her sleep and ended up getting another concussion because he was so not making any sense.

“So let me get this straight, you want me to come live with you and your superhero friends, in the Titans freaking Tower?!”

“I was hoping for a little less yelling after an emotional evening but yes that is exactly what I’m asking.”

“Dick that’s just ridiculous!”

“Look, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

He looked like a kicked puppy which made her feel kinda guilty for all the yelling.

“It’s not that…It’s just there is still a lot about me I haven’t told them. There is still a lot I haven’t told you. I don’t see a reason why you all would want to trust a possible threat, let alone live with it”, she gestured to herself.

Dick felt like there was a deeper meaning behind her words, as if she was voicing her own fear rather than theirs but he trusted her enough to tell him about it when she was ready, on her own terms. He could wait till then but for now he crossed the short distance between them, going around the breakfast table till he stood in front of her. He grasped both of her hands in his and ran his thumb soothingly across her knuckles. He bent down to place a soft kiss on her forehead, and then moved to meet her gaze.

“(Y/N), I know you and I trust you and…It sounds silly considering I was raised by the worlds greatest detective but I believe that you don’t have to know every little detail about someone as long as you already know what’s in their heart.” Bruce probably would’ve disagreed but he wasn’t Bruce.

“And you know what’s in mine?”

“And I know what’s in yours.” His statement was firm and left no room for argument, not when it came to this.

“If you’re sure about this, then I guess...”

“Is that a yes I’m hearing?”, There was that smile again, seriously what was up with him and his smile that made her giddy inside.

In between thoughts she realized he was still waiting for a response so she nodded. Any underlying doubts she had about her answer vanished when she took in how happy it made him. As cheesy as it sounded seeing him happy made her happy. A part of her said it wouldn’t last long, but seeing her boyfriend hop onto the couch full of joy as he called his friends about the latest development in their lives, she wanted to believe otherwise.

°•°•°•°•

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yhwhsdaughter · 3 years

Text

pairing: trevor belmont x fem reader

content: forced vampirism, monster slaying, main character death, pining, angst, mention of animal death, usage of the word ‘assault’ to refer vampires feeding on reader

- this was meant as platonic soulmates but it can be seen as romantic too

“It hurts…”

Feet dragging across the rocky ground, you heard screeches of pain from behind, though they soon diminished. You could only focus on the pulsing sensation at the side of your neck; it was like fire rushing through your veins.

Preoccupied with your agony, Belmont was able to sneak up. He raised his whip, ready to kill off the last of the creatures when you suddenly turned, and with glossy eyes you said, “Help me…”

The whip managed to leave a thin horizontal line across your cheek as he pulled back, causing blood to drip out slowly. Now illuminated by the moon, Belmont saw the damage on you. Skin exposed by the ripped clothes showed multiple bite marks. Blood stained the corner of your lips.

She’s been infected..

Belmont didn’t see a monster but a scared woman who’d just been assaulted by vampires. He knew what she’d turn into, but he couldn’t kill her… not when she looked at him like this. Sunrise was approaching so he had to act fast.

Draping his cloak onto your form, Belmont proceeded to carry you into the nearest building, which so happened to be where the carnage had occurred. Upon recognizing the place, you began to panic, shaking and looking at him with distrust. “You’re safe. I killed every last of those bloodsuckers.”

The two of you stayed like that for a while, in that shitty stinking room. Eventually tiredness overcame your senses; Belmont felt weight settle on his shoulder. He wonder how a vampire could look so innocent whilst sleeping.

“Hungry…”

You felt parched; it felt like your throat had dried up, barely able to utter a word.

“I know.”

A rabbit was placed in front of you. Blinking at it, you directed a confused glance at the man. “I’m—this is.. for me?” He nodded. Taking the animal with traces of disgust, you raised it to your mouth. Blood gushed into your mouth; feeding made a horrible slurping that would certainly haunt you but there was relief amongst those troubling feelings.

You gulped every last drop, draining the poor creature of its life. Still, your hunger and thirst weren’t satiated. Biting your lip, you pondered on the next move. Because this man had saved you, daring to kill him or even feed off him seemed… rude. Not to mention, he seemed way stronger than you in terms of experience. Prior to this, you were a regular citizen. Maybe you could run away?

“Here.”

Trevor could see your turmoil. Most vampires needed to drain at least one human every time they fed—if they were being generous. They could survive weeks without blood but it made them weaker. Besides, it was older vampires who had this kind of self control. Newborns tended to be more unstable.

“Just take it before I change my mind.”

You did as told, though you were still unsure. Hesitating, you licked your lips before nearing towards the vein on his wrist.

Trevor let out a grunt when your fangs pierced him. Although you tried to be gentle, it was an uncomfortable feeling nonetheless. As he became lightheaded and you full, the mouth that was attached to his wrist removed itself with a ‘pop’.

After making sure he was alright, you asked for his name. “Trevor. Trevor Belmont.”

“Oh..”

“……”

“Oh! I’m (Name) (Surname).”

─── ☾☼☽ ───

“It’s dangerous.”

“I still-still want to go!”

The last remnants of sun were gone. Ever since your first encounter with the rugged monster hunter, you refused to part from him, following the latter like a lost puppy.

“I’m not much of a fighter.. b-but watch this!”

On cue, you punched the nearest tree, cracking it and making a sizable hole. You looked back proudly towards Trevor; except when you tried to pull your hand out, you were having difficulty.

“Ah. It’s stuck.”

Trevor couldn’t help but chuckle, walking away, clearly amused with your display of power. You pulled harder, “Hold on! Don’t leave me alone! It’s scary..” you muttered the last part while chasing after him. Despite being a creature of the night, the world and its evils still frightened you.

At the sound of a branch snapping, you yelped, grabbing a piece of Trevor’s cloak for security.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to Belmont when you punched a head clean off, practically decapitating one of the attackers. He might have been seriously injured if you had not intervened.

“Trevor.”

Gazing at you under the moonlight, he saw the hunger in your eyes as you held a man whom was still alive but struggling. His neck was exposed. Even so, you waited.

The Belmont turned away, giving you privacy to feed.

He knew that by allowing you to live, you would continue to take blood from others. Normally he wouldn’t feel soft towards a monster but whenever he thought of you, it was different.

His guilt was lessened when you drank from scum. Before putting the lives of innocents in danger, he would offer his own.

“Are you done?”

The corpse of the man was dropped unceremoniously as you joined Trevor, a light skip to your step.

─── ☾☼☽ ───

Despite adopting a nighttime lifestyle, Trevor was still human and had to conduct business during daylight hours.

He’d left your lodgings, which was an abandoned cottage, for a while. Nobody really passed through there anyway, so he thought you were safe. Worst came to worse, you could handle yourself. But as your self proclaimed protector, Trevor felt uneasy leaving you alone.

Maybe he should’ve listened to his gut because when he arrived, the door was wide open with dirty footprints leading in all the way to your coffin.

Two men had opened it—staring at the peaceful expression on your face, unaware that they were here to end you. To them it was obvious what you were. Even with that frilly white dress that made you look somewhat angelic, they couldn’t be fooled. As they raised their weapons to strike, Trevor used his whip. His sudden entrance startled them but it gave you the chance to wake up.

Eyes snapping open, you jumped onto the other man, taking both of you to the ground. His screams echoed shortly as you tore into his throat. The remaining one had no chance; Trevor left the room, closing the door on his way out, killing the light that entered and cutting off the way to escape.

Left alone with your prey, a smile crept up your face.

When you opened the door again, the dress which decorated your body was now stained red. There was hardly a clean piece on the material. Even so, you greeted Trevor with a hug.

“Trevor..”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“M-me too..”

─── ☾☼☽ ───

Forty years passed in the blink of an eye.

“You should retire.”

“Belmonts don’t retire. The only rest they get is when they’re dead.”

“Well I don’t want you to die.”

“I have to, someday.”

“No you don’t.”

It’s been like this for the past few years; Trevor was sixty now. His body didn’t look that of an aging man, but the expression on his face did. He’d seen too much and as time passed, it was harder to fight monsters by himself.

Of course you’d noticed that and suggested turning him. It was an ongoing discussion; Trevor didn’t fancy the idea of living an eternal life but the thought of leaving this earth without you was disheartening. He didn’t say it but the situation tore him apart.

There was also the fact that he was too old for you; forty years to be exact. You’d maintained your youth, looking lovely as ever. His doubts were shot down when you immediately said that you didn’t care about that.

“I just want you.”

He always kept pushing the conversation away and you were patient. Trevor supposed that you could’ve taken him by force if you wanted and when he inquired, you told him it would be like violating him, robbing him of the choice you were never given.

As understanding as you were; the time would come for him to decide and confront you about it.

That time was now.

He should have been more careful, but there was nothing to be done about it now. Trevor watched as the sun slowly descended. Would you make it here before he passed? Would he die without seeing you one last time?

When you woke night had already fallen. Trevor wasn’t home; he’d been late plenty of times before but this occasion felt different.

Upon stepping outside, the smell of blood hit you. It reeked, staining the very air. You immediately recognized the source—how could you not? You’d fed from Trevor countless times.

Rushing in that direction, you prayed to whatever entity was listening to keep Trevor safe. The world and its gods could condemn you, but not him.

Not him.

You found him sprawled on a big rock, a creature hovering over his crumpled figure. Without thinking, you tore it to pieces. Blood rained as his mangled body flew to various parts of the forest.

“Trevor!!!”

He let out a groan, which would’ve made you sigh in relief but his visible injuries proved otherwise. You were no doctor and even if you could carry him into town, it would be too late. There was no other option. If you didn’t do anything, you might lose him.

“Trevor. Let me do it.”

Still conscious enough to reply, “I don’t want to become—”

“A monster?”

“I cannot become what I sought to destroy..”

Tears escaped your eyes, blurring the image of the person whom you treasure most. “Please.. please please please..! Don’t leave me alone!”

You begged, knowing it was unfair to pressure him in such way but you couldn’t bare the thought of existing if he wasn’t present. He was your salvation, your companion…your world. And yet, he was being robbed from you.

So soon… It’s too soon!

You always imagined Trevor living well into old age, spending the remainder of his life with you, being happy. He was destined to die peacefully, not like this. Not in this shitty place, by the hands of a shitty monster!

“I can’t. I’m sorry..”

Grabbing his hands, you lowered your forehead on them, crying your heart out. It was unfair. Life was unfair.

“Kiss me.”

Despite the pain that he was in, Trevor found it in himself to smile. For you. “Kiss me one last time.” Tears dropped slowly as you heard him. Shaking your head; you couldn’t kill him.

“I want it to be you..”

His words struck a chord.

Lifting him by the neck in a gentle manner, you pushed the collar of his shirt aside, exposing his carotid. As you bit into his familiar skin once more, your other hand caressed him, trying to make this goodbye as painless as possible.

With every sip you took, tears fell down.

I love you! I love you! I love you!

His warm hand turned cold.

You held him in your arms like he once did to you, with the outmost care, with the love he deserved.

Since Trevor didn’t say where he wanted his body to be buried, you chose the nicest spot. It was a secluded place where it wouldn’t be dug up by animals or people—but not so hidden either.

Whilst cleaning the blood that covered his body and face, you found a piece of cloth with writing on it. Staring at it, you recognized the Belmont insignia. Turning the material, you managed to read the words…

Take this. Go to Alucard.

Trevor must’ve written that in his final moments; probably in case he didn’t make it before you arrived. The letters were sloppy because of the blood but you could read it well.

Clutching it to your chest, you sobbed until the light of day began to burn. For a moment you wished to stay there and disappear. Perhaps you could join Trevor.

Together even in death..

─── ☾☼☽ ───

The journey was rather long.

Looming in all its glory, Castle Dracula. You looked at the last piece of your beloved, holding it tighter in your hand.

“Okay. Let’s meet this Alucard.”

#trevor belmont #castlevania trevor #trevor x reader #trevor x you #trevor x y/n #castlevania #castlevania x reader #castlevania x you #castlevania x y/n #alucard #alucard x reader #alucard x you #alucard x y/n #vampire

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sweatersexual · 2 years

Text

My Dream Demon Still Misses Me . . .

Read on AO3

Read the previous work in this series

The dream always starts on their wedding day.

Most of the wedding party is decorating Fiddleford’s truck, leaving Emma May’s Aunt Millie to help her out of her wedding dress and into something more wieldy. Emma May won’t admit it, but she is glad to never wear that white dress again. She is happy to be married and spend the rest of her life with Fiddleford, but getting married - seeing herself and him match the cake toppers she’d seen all her life, being declared a wife - there’s something off about it, something strange, like looking in a distorted mirror. She’s been trying to avoid that skin-crawly feeling all her life, she won’t let it ruin her special day.

“Who’s that one groomsman, with the glasses and the six fingers?” asks Aunt Millie.

“Oh, that’s Ford, he’s Fiddleford’s best friend from college,” Emma May replies absentmindedly, fixing her slip.

“Ah, yes, they seem . . . close.” Aunt Millie bites her lip for a moment, then adds, quietly, “You’d think Ford would look more excited for his best friend - but what do I know?” Her voice picks up in volume as she shakes her head. “I’ve never been married, or frankly preferred a man’s company much at all . . .”

“Aunt Millie, we all know there’s not a man alive who deserves you.”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

The scene changes, and she is watching Fidds sleep. He is muttering Ford’s name, and she can’t make out what else he’s saying.

Now she and Fidds are having a disagreement about laundry, and she tries to bite down on her annoyance when he says, “It’s just that we always did it this way . . .” That we doesn’t include her, he doesn’t have to mention Ford’s name for her to know he’s talking about him.

Stanford Pines himself waits at the end of a long, dark hall, wearing an eerie smile, and something is the matter with his eyes, but she can’t quite tell. “Will you help me, Fidds?” he asks. “Will you leave them and come?”

When Emma May woke, her bed was empty. This wasn’t unusual - Fiddleford usually let her sleep in after she’d pulled long shifts at the hospital. She could hear his banjo plucking from his garage workshop as she fixed herself some coffee. Emma May didn’t know how he managed to get work done when his hands were busy plucking out errant phrases that never quite solidified into recognizable tunes. He called it thinking music.

Well, he was going to have a lot more to think about in a few minutes.

Still blowing on her steaming mug, Emma May joined Fiddleford in the garage. “Morning,” she greeted him, and he grunted in acknowledgement. The dark circles under his eyes made her wonder if he’d been having unsettling dreams too. But whenever she tried to ask, he changed the subject.

When he’d come home from that quantum engineering conference a few weeks ago, he’d shared an exciting tale of helping Stanford Pines and his until-recently-estranged twin brother escape a mob of gangsters, and later, a tearful confession of a kiss between him and his ex-lover. And yet, as horrible as that betrayal had felt, Fiddleford had convinced her that she and Tate were his priority. The kiss was a one-time mistake, and he was willing to do what it took to fix their marriage. And Emma May had wanted to believe that.

Emma May had wanted to believe it was as simple as Fiddleford choosing his love for her over his attraction to Stanford. She didn’t want to end a six-year marriage that, while not always ideal, had made them both quite happy. But it wasn’t that simple.

After draining half her mug, she set it down. Looking for a segue into a conversation that couldn’t possibly start or end well, she asked Fiddleford, “Did you get Tate off to school all right?” Their boy had just started kindergarten last week, and though she worried about his shyness, Tate seemed to be doing well.

Fiddleford answered with a simple nod, not even bothering to look at her or pause in his strumming. Despite the cool response, it strengthened Emma May’s resolve. She knew she was making the right choice.

“Fiddleford, I’ve been thinking . . .” She paused, and then, knowing she might as well cut to the chase, she continued, "we should get a divorce."

A sour note twanged on the banjo, and Fiddleford turned to her in alarm. "What? I thought we -"

"I know what we talked about, but Fidds, it’s not just that you kissed him. It’s the fact that we’ve been married for six years and you’ve been in love with him this whole time. I know deep down you’re chomping at the bit to work on whatever he’s doing up in Oregon, and the only reason you’re here is because you feel obligated to me. How are we supposed to fix that?”

“It’s not an obligation, Emma May,” he said, setting the banjo aside and taking her hand. “I love you.”

“But you want him. Can you really tell me that if we weren't married, you wouldn’t be with him right now?”

“That’s - that’s not a fair question -”

Emma May pulled her hand away. “Of course it’s a fair question, and we both know the answer. If we keep this up, we’re gonna end up resenting each other, our marriage is gonna die a slow, painful death, and it’ll only be that much worse for Tate. It’s better to end this now, before it gets ugly.”

Emma May knew how it felt to watch your parents grow cold toward each other, how constant sniping and bitterness poisoned all the good feelings in a home. That was the last thing she wanted her son to grow up with.

"So you just wanna give up? Not even try to salvage what we have?"

"Fiddleford, I know you wanna fix everything. But this ain't one of your machines. Or if it is, it's like that stupid catalyzer analytron."

"Emma May! How could you compare the two? Our marriage means so much more to me than that hunk of junk -"

"But you wouldn't let go of it. Even when you realized the concept was fundamentally flawed, you kept trying to work around it. You kept picking at it like an open wound, it was driving you crazy. But you wouldn't scrap it until it sat in the backyard so long it started to rust, and when you finally took it apart, hardly any of the parts were reusable." And there was still a dead spot in the grass where that godforsaken contraption had been.

Fiddleford put his head in his hands, and when he spoke, his tone was watery. "You really think it's as bad as all that?"

"Look, I know all the - the gay stuff . . . can be . . . hard to talk about.” Despite having more enlightened views on the subject than either of them had been raised with, Emma May couldn’t recall having more than a few conversations with him where homosexuality had even come up. That was, until he’d revealed the true nature of his relationship with Stanford Pines. She’d assumed his reticence on the subject was due to their upbringing, not the fact that he himself was still closeted. His apparent need to hide a part of himself to her felt like another, lesser betrayal, even if it wasn’t entirely his fault. “But I deserved to know. And the time to work out your feelings for your ex was before we got married, not six years into it."

Fiddleford ran his hands over his face, wiping tears away as he did so. "I - I thought I was over him then. Or at least I wanted to be. I never wanted to hurt you."

Emma May hated that he was crying. After all the tears she’d shed over him, the least he could do was not make this harder on her. She turned away from him before she said, "Well, you did. Badly. And if you don't want to make it worse, you'll leave."

Not for the first time, Shifty wished he could understand what his dad was thinking as well as what he was feeling. All he knew was, Dad had gotten a phone call that made him all fluttery inside, and then he’d spent the next few days running around trying to do ten things all at once. The only explanation Dad had given him was that someone was coming to help him build the portal.

“Who is it?” Shifty had asked.

“He’s . . . an old friend of mine.”

Uncle Stan had snickered at that, and Dad had glared at him, but that didn’t stop Uncle Stan from wanting to tease him. That was as normal as Dad had acted all day. The only other things Shifty could find out about this new human was that his name was Fiddleford, Dad had lived with him in a frustrating place called Backupsmore, and he also liked beans.

And then, the day Mr. Fiddleford was set to arrive, Dad told Shifty and Uncle Stan, “It’s best if you don’t say anything to Fiddleford about my Muse.”

That was no problem. Shifty didn’t like to talk about Dad’s muse at all, so he definitely wouldn’t talk about him with Mr. Fiddleford. But Uncle Stan asked, “Why?”

“Fiddleford is . . . well, he’s superstitious. Back in college, I had to ask our neighbors to store my Ouija board. He wouldn’t have it in our dorm.”

“What’s a wee-jee board?” asked Shifty.

“It’s a tool people use to talk to ghosts,” Dad explained. “But Fiddleford didn’t like it because he said those things have ‘bad energy.’”

“Oh. And your muse has bad energy, so Mr. Fiddleford won’t like him either,” Shifty concluded.

Dad didn’t like Shifty talking about his muse like that. “Reading energies is a highly subjective and unproven form of observation,” he said, “but no, I don’t think Fiddleford will like the idea of me communing with extradimensional beings in my sleep, even less than either of you do.”

Dad had given up on trying to convince Shifty and Uncle Stan that his muse was a good guy, but he still seemed to hope they would change their minds anyway. Shifty was sure that would never happen.

“So let me get this straight,” said Uncle Stan. “You’re asking him to help you with this portal, but you’re not even going to tell him about the guy who told you to build it?”

“I just don’t want him to get the wrong idea about this project. My inspiration may be a bit . . . out there, but the science is sound. He’ll be more comfortable with the numbers and blueprints, and Gravity Falls has enough weirdness for just about anyone to handle as it is. I don’t want to overwhelm him.”

That didn’t sound right to Uncle Stan. “You didn’t seem so worried about overwhelming me when I first came here.”

“Yes, but you’re . . . you, and he’s . . .”

“The one that got away, and you don’t want to blow your chance of getting him back?”

“No!” Dad turned red and got all fluttery again. “I mean, that’s not what I was saying. You two just have very different personalities. That’s all.”

Teasing Dad seemed to put Uncle Stan more at ease. “Fine, I won’t say anything to him about Bill. But you should. Eventually.”

“We’ll see.”

Shifty could sense some anxious excitement that didn’t seem to be coming from Dad or Uncle Stan, but from outside the house. A new presence was moving quickly up the road. “Another human’s coming,” he told them. “Is that him?”

Dad ran over to the window as quickly as he had that time he had caught Shifty playing with knives. “That’s his truck!” He scrambled to the door just as quickly, and when he opened it -

Shifty was hit with a wave of emotions so intense he lost track of what was going on. He didn’t have the words to describe how deeply Dad was both happy and thankful to see Mr. Fiddleford. The undercurrents of nervousness only served to heighten those feelings.

It wasn’t until Mr. Fiddleford stepped inside the house that Shifty returned his attention to what he was seeing and hearing. Mr. Fiddleford was tall, though Shifty couldn’t tell whether he was taller than Dad or his skinniness made him look taller. He looked down at Shifty through round glasses, and Shifty didn’t need his emotion-sensing abilities to read the shock on his face.

“Stanford,” he said, “what is this thing? Did one of your specimens escape or something?”

Something inside Shifty shrank at being called a thing, a specimen. What was he doing in his true form? Shifty knew it was the kind of thing humans thought was ugly, though Dad thought all his forms were fascinating and Uncle Stan called him a “cute little bug.” Shifty should’ve thought to change into something cuter, something other humans wouldn’t be disgusted by. But now Shifty was too hurt to turn into anything but a prickly sea urchin.

“You’ve upset him,” Dad told Mr. Fiddleford.

“Him?”

“Shifty, I’m sorry,” said Dad, kneeling down and running a finger along the smooth edge of one of Shifty’s spikes. “Fiddleford didn’t mean to hurt you, he was just surprised. That’s my fault, I should’ve told him to expect you.”

Shifty wanted a hug, but he couldn’t hug Dad if he was a prickly sea urchin. So he turned into Peter Rabbit instead. He should’ve been in that form to start with, Mr. Fiddleford would’ve liked it better. Shifty certainly felt better in Dad’s arms, looking Mr. Fiddleford in the face instead of being loomed over.

“I may have initially captured Shifty in order to study him,” Dad explained to Mr. Fiddleford, “but I have since discovered that he’s a sentient, sapient being. I’ve become rather fond of him, and we regard each other as father and son.”

This didn’t seem to quell the uneasiness Mr. Fiddleford was feeling. “Stanford, this is highly unethical. You can’t just adopt your research subject.”

Uncle Stan’s anger flared like fireworks, and he said, “So it’s more ethical to treat a kid like he’s your property?”

“You’ve gone and anthropomorphized it -”

“Fiddleford, that’s enough,” said Dad. He sounded calm, but Shifty could tell he wasn’t happy either. “Do you really think I would’ve adopted an anomaly without gathering all the evidence I could that he deserves to be treated with the same care as any other child? You’re in no position to dispute my findings without giving them the same consideration. And in the meantime, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t dispute my son’s personhood right in front of him.”

Mr. Fiddleford felt like he wanted to argue, but he held himself back. “Fine,” he said. “We can talk about this later. Were you wanting to show me around the house?”

“Right, of course.”

“Hey, Shifty,” said Uncle Stan. “You wanna help me check the plaidypus traps?”

Shifty gratefully took the chance to leave the tense atmosphere that had settled in the house. As they hiked through the woods, Uncle Stan told him, “If Fiddleford ever makes you feel bad like that again, tell me. I’ll knock some sense into him, all right?”

Shifty shook his head. Punching Mr. Fiddleford would only make things worse. “It’s okay, Uncle Stan. I should’ve known he wouldn’t like me. I just gotta be good, and Mr. Fiddleford will change his mind, like you and Dad did.”

For some reason this made Uncle Stan feel sad. Shifty hadn’t meant to do that, he was trying to show Uncle Stan that everything would be okay.

“Yeah, maybe he will change his mind,” said Uncle Stan. “But even if he doesn’t, you deserve to be around people who make you feel loved. I wish your dad and I hadn’t made you feel like that was something you had to earn, you know?”

Shifty hated thinking about those bad days, when he had been locked in a cage. They had happened weeks ago, and that was half as long as Shifty had been alive. Sure, Shifty wished things hadn’t gone that way, and so did Dad and Uncle Stan, but they couldn’t do anything about it now. Shifty hated the guilty feelings that happened whenever they brought it up. So instead of talking about it all over again, Shifty decided to change the subject.

“Hey, Uncle Stan?”

“Yeah?”

“What did you mean when you said Mr. Fiddleford was ‘the one that got away?’”

“Oh, right. Heh.” Uncle Stan felt uncertain, like he had the time Shifty had asked him and Dad what a girl was. (As it turned out, humans liked to put each other into two groups based on some body parts that usually got covered up by their clothes. But Shifty didn’t have any of those body parts, so Dad and Uncle Stan used boy words for him, because humans liked to use boy words when they weren’t sure which words to use. They said Shifty could use girl words if he wanted, or they could make up some other ones. Of course, this was all very silly. Shifty didn’t really care what words they used, and if boy words were good enough for Dad and Uncle Stan, then they were good enough for Shifty.) Was being “the one that got away” like being a girl, in that it was based on some silly thing humans did that made no sense to Shifty?

“You know what,” said Uncle Stan, “that’s a question you should ask your dad sometime . . .”

Ford regretted not telling Fiddleford about Shifty when he had called to say he’d changed his mind about taking Ford’s offer to work up here in Gravity Falls. Granted, adopting a shapeshifter was a lot to explain over the phone, especially since their conversation had been so brief. They hadn’t discussed much more than when Ford could expect him to be here. Ford had been too blindsided and overwhelmingly grateful to ask too many questions.

But now they were alone for the first time since they’d kissed in Vegas of all places, and Ford wasn’t sure where to start.

He gestured awkwardly toward the kitchen. “Phone’s in there. Did you want to call, um - call your family, and let them know you made it all right?”

Fiddleford’s knee bounced uncomfortably. “I - I suppose I will. Later. Emma May might still care to know I didn’t get mangled in traffic.”

Ford wasn’t sure how to ask Fidds what he meant by that, but apparently his gaze flicking over to Fiddleford’s left hand was question enough.

Fiddleford self-consciously wrung his hands together, twisting his wedding ring around his finger. “We’re getting a divorce,” he explained.

“Oh,” said Ford. “I’m sorry.” He winced at how insincere he sounded, because that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Though watching Fiddleford marry someone else had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done, Ford knew Emma May had made Fidds happy. And he could never begrudge Fiddleford an ounce of happiness, even if Ford wasn’t responsible for it. Putting more feeling into it this time, he tacked on, “No, really, I am. I know you wanted it to work out.”

“Yeah, well. That wasn’t all I wanted. That was the problem.”

Despite the guilt over the confirmation that he was definitely a homewrecker now, Ford couldn’t help the thrilling thoughts of He wants to be here. Here with me running through his mind. Ford tamped down on his excitement and clarified, “I don’t have any expectations, you know. We can keep this as professional as you like. Mostly I’m just glad you’re here.”

Fiddleford gave him a little smile. “Me too. I know the last time we saw each other, I told you we needed to take a break from our friendship. I hope you know that wasn’t easy for me to say any more than it was for you to hear it. So for now, can we just focus on rebuilding our friendship? Cause that’s just as important to me as anything else.”

Ford nodded. “Of course. It is for me, too.” He smiled back at Fiddleford and reached for one of his bags. “Come on, let me show you where to put that.”

It didn’t take very long at all to confirm that coming to Gravity Falls had been a good move for Fiddleford. The portal work captivated him, he could understand why Ford was practically consumed by it. The only thing that seemed to pull Ford out of his workspace was his family. He still made time for Stan and Shifty every day, even if it was limited to just an arm wrestling match or a bedtime story.

Fiddleford never begrudged the time spent with Stan (Lord did he not begrudge the time the twins had stripped to the waist and practiced boxing - he’d only lasted about ten minutes as a spectator before he slipped away with a vague excuse and buried his head in an equation until he could breathe like a normal person), but Shifty . . .

Ford had shown Fiddleford his exhaustingly comprehensive data. Fiddleford had observed Shifty’s behavior. The critter did indeed have an exuberant personality which was at the same time eager to please. He also brought out a tender side in Ford that Fiddleford had always wanted to see more of. Fiddleford could understand wanting to make this critter a pet, but adopting one as a son? Fiddleford had learned early on in his life that as clever as a hog could be sometimes, it was still a hog, and you didn’t get too attached to a critter that could just as soon eat you as you could it.

Not wanting to cause trouble, Fiddleford didn’t say anything about his feelings. He didn’t interact with Shifty any more than basic politeness demanded, and he still kept a wary eye on the critter. The anomaly’s ability to read emotions also bothered Fiddleford, but he had to admit it was convenient that Shifty could understand Fiddleford wanting to avoid him without having to explain why.

So it was a couple weeks into his stay before Fiddleford and Shifty were alone in a room together. Fiddleford had been working on one of his personal projects when he caught Shifty out of the corner of his eye. Instantly alert, he turned toward the shapeshifter, who had taken the form of Frances the Badger.

“Sorry,” said Shifty. “I didn’t mean to scare you, Mr. Fiddleford, I was just looking for Dad? Well, I’m supposed to tell you too, but dinner’s ready.”

“Oh,” said Fiddleford. “Thanks. I’ll tell Ford - he should be in his study. We’ll be up in a minute.”

It was then that Fiddleford noticed that Ford had scrambled his Cubic’s Cube - again. Grumbling, he picked it up and started solving it.

“Does Dad give you puzzles, too?” Shifty asked.

Fiddleford’s head snapped up again. He really should’ve noticed the critter hadn’t left yet. “Hmm? Oh, you’re talking about the Cubic’s Cube. Ford just likes messing with me, he knows I cain’t stand seeing them unsolved.”

Shifty edged closer uncertainly. “So you’re trying to put all the different colors on their own sides?”

“Did you figure that out just from watching me?” Fiddleford asked. He supposed this wasn’t uncharacteristic of Shifty’s behavior according to Ford, but it was interesting to see in action.

“Uh huh.”

“I reckon Ford’s right, you are a sharp fella. Do you wanna give it a try?” Fiddleford asked, giving the Cubic’s cube a few twists and presenting it to Shifty.

He shook his head. “That’s too easy. I saw what you did. I’d just have to do it backwards.”

Fiddleford wanted to laugh. That was just like Ford, to make things more challenging for himself. “Of course,” he told Shifty. He hid the Cubic’s cube behind his back and twisted it a few more times, then held it out to him again. “How about now?”

Shifty took it and made a few experimental twists. Fiddleford was about to give him some pointers when Shifty asked, “Why does looking at that picture make you feel sad?” He jerked his head toward the framed photo of Tate and Emma May.

Fiddleford’s heart sank. He didn’t know when he had felt safe enough to bring that photo down to the basement where Shifty could possibly see it. He definitely hadn’t considered that the critter would come right out and ask about it.

Shifty, of course, picked up on his hesitation. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“It’s no big deal,” said Fiddleford. “I just - miss them, that’s all.”

“They’re your human family, aren’t they?”

Fiddleford nodded.

“Will you go back to them when the portal is done?”

If only things were that simple! “I don’t think it’ll work out that way. I messed things up pretty bad,” he confessed.

“Did you say sorry?”

“I did. But that don’t always fix everything. Like if you break a vase. Sure, you can glue the pieces back together, but the cracks are still there.”

Oh, shoot, now there were spines growing out of Shifty’s back. He was turning into a sea urchin, like Ford said he tended to do when upset. What had Fiddleford said to set him off?

“Hey, it’s okay,” he told the little guy. “I still talk to Tate - that’s my son, the boy in the photo - I talk to him on the phone all the time. I love my family very much. We’re gonna get through this, okay?”

“I think I still have cracks,” Shifty said very quietly. “From the bad days. Dad and Uncle Stan didn’t always treat me so good, you know. Am I broken forever?”

Oh Lord. Those big, watery eyes looking up at him made Fiddleford want to gather the little furball up in his arms, reservations be damned. So he held his arms out to the critter and Shifty stretched to set the Cubic’s Cube back on Fiddleford’s desk, then warily climbed into Fiddleford’s arms, retracting the spikes as he went.

In this form Shifty was downright cuddly. It was a wonder Fiddleford hadn’t broken down and tried to hold him before. “You’re not gonna go back to the way you were before,” Fiddleford told Shifty, stroking his pelt. “But you are gonna grow into something new and different. I’m sure it’ll be amazing, you wait and see.”

“I’m sorry,” Shifty murmured into Fiddleford’s shoulder.

“For what?”

“For making you feel guilty all the time. I don’t mean to.”

Of everything Shifty could’ve said, this confused Fiddleford the most. “You don’t make me feel guilty,” he said.

Shifty sat back on his haunches, still in Fiddleford’s lap. He looked confused. “I don’t know why people feel the way they do,” he told Fiddleford, “I just know what the feelings are. Maybe there’s some other reason you feel guilty whenever you can see me. I just thought maybe that’s why you try to ignore me, cause you don’t seem to think I’m gross anymore. But maybe I’m wrong. Humans don’t make a lot of sense to me.”

Fiddleford was sure this didn’t add up. If anything was making him feel guilty, it was -

He looked back at the photo of Emma May and Tate. His son was still asking him when he’d be coming back, every time he called. Fiddleford tried to explain that he’d visit whenever he could, but Tate still hadn’t seemed to internalize the idea that the three of them would never live together as a family again. He wasn’t like Shifty, who was so much less sure of his place in his own family.

But why was Fiddleford comparing them? Shifty wasn’t even human, comparing him to a human child was apples to oranges, wasn’t it? Except for the fact that Ford did it all the time. How many reports had Fiddleford read through comparing Shifty’s cognitive functioning to the average human development? Sometimes Fiddleford could pretend Ford was writing about any other experiment, but the fondness for his son showed through. As much as Fiddleford tried to deny it, this shapeshifting critter was part of Ford’s life for good.

Which meant that he’d be in Fiddleford’s life, too, because despite how wrong it felt to start anything with Ford so soon after being separated from his wife, Fiddleford knew it was only a matter of time before they picked up where they’d left off in college.

That must be what Shifty was picking up on, and why Fiddleford was keeping the little guy at arm’s length. Treating Shifty like Ford’s son felt too much like replacing his own family, and it ate at Fiddleford. Which was completely unfair of Fiddleford, to scapegoat this kid for his own mistakes.

Shifty recoiled from the fresh wave of shame Fiddleford was feeling. “I’m sor-” he started.

But Fiddleford interrupted. “Hush, now. None of this is your fault, you hear me? I’m the one who should be sorry. You didn’t do nothing to deserve the way I’ve been treating you. Nothing at all.”

Shifty protested, “But I’m . . . I’m a -” He seemed unable to finish that sentence.

“You’re weird. And so’s your dad. And your uncle Stan. And me, really. That’s what we like about each other, isn’t it?”

Shifty seemed to consider this. “Yeah. Weird is good.”

“That’s right, kiddo. Weird is good.”

Stan was doing some maintenance on his car when Ford made the rare excursion outside to watch Shifty hunt. Shifty had been on a disemboweling-small-birds kick lately, and needed supervision to make sure he didn’t choke on any of the small, fragile bones birds tended to have.

The dark circles under Ford’s eyes shrunk a bit as they crinkled into a grin. “Well done, Shifty! Your woodpecker calls keep getting better!”

From the tree in which he was hiding as a woodpecker, Shifty called back, “Don’t talk so loud, Dad! You’ll scare them away!”

“Stanford?” Fiddleford winced as he stepped into the sunlight. “There you are. I thought I heard someone banging around in your room, but I didn’t see anything.”

“Oh, it might be that invisible wizard again. I’ve caught him going through my clothes before. Can’t imagine why.”

“An invisible wizard keeps breaking into your house?” asked Fiddleford.

“Not often,” Ford answered distractedly, keeping his eyes on Shifty as he pounced on another woodpecker. “I caught a glimpse of him through night vision goggles once. He has these piercing blue eyes. I bet he could be a model if he weren’t invisible.”

Fiddleford muttered something that sounded like, “I have blue eyes, you know.”

“What?”

“How would his eyes show up blue in the infrared, Ford?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Like I said, I only caught a glimpse.”

Fiddleford folded his arms and gave a slight harumph. “Well, it’s no good having your home invaded by some guy you cain’t even see. I’ll put together some contraption so we can find out what he really looks like.”

“Yeah,” said Stan. “Because determining whether or not he’s handsome will definitely stop him from breaking into our house.”

Fiddleford went slightly pink as he demanded, “Well, you got any better ideas?”

Grinning a little wider, Stan suggested, “Maybe since this wizard guy likes clothes so much, we could bait him by doing a strip tease. Ford, you go first.”

Fiddleford turned redder as he exclaimed, “Absolutely not!”

Ford took Stan’s bait a little more sardonically. “Ha ha, Stanley. You got me going there,” he said dryly. “Fiddleford, I think we could really use the kind of device you’re talking about. Great work, as usual.”

“Yeah, of course,” said Fiddleford. “I’ll get started right away.”

“Wait, Fiddleford, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

But he was already walking away, muttering, “Stupid wizard . . . thinks he’s so . . .”

“Wow,” said Stan. “I never pegged him as the jealous type.”

Ford’s eyes widened owlishly in his confusion. “Fiddleford? Jealous? Of what?”

“You seriously didn’t notice? I thought you were doing it on purpose.”

“Doing what on purpose?”

Stan slung the hand that wasn’t holding an oil can over his forehead dramatically. “Oh Fiddleford, you’d never guess who’s been visiting me in the bedroom! I met this handsome invisible wizard with piercing blue eyes. I think he looks really good in my clothes too -”

Ford shoved Stan aside, and he had to take quick steps to keep the oil can from spilling. “Shut up, I didn’t say it like that.”

“But that’s how he heard it. Now all he can think about is winning you back from that wizard creep. Very smooth, bro.”

Ford started rubbing one of his temples. “The last thing I want to do is distract him with something that stupid. We have important work to do. Maybe I should tell him to forget the whole thing.”

“Nah, that’ll just make it worse. He’ll get over it, don’t worry.”

But Ford was already distracted with something else. “Wait Shifty, don't puncture that! . . . Oh dear.”

Ford had gone inside to clean up Shifty from his kill when Fiddleford reemerged with his hands full of little gadgets. “Hey Stan, have you seen my -” he started asking, then stopped short when he got a good look under the hood of Stan’s car. “So . . . much . . . duct tape . . .”

“Yeah, well, it works well enough in a pinch, and I didn’t usually have much else -” Stan said sheepishly.

“Oh, I know. I just cain’t believe you’ve needed to patch her up so much. She must’ve gone through the wringer, poor girl. But you’d never guess just by looking at her.”

He started asking a bunch of questions which Stan did his best to answer. Every so often he had to correct Stan on the name of a certain part, leaving Stan slightly mortified. Maybe it had been a few years since he’d picked up a manual, but he still knew what the gizmo did, didn’t he? That was all that mattered, right?

“I never would’ve thought of putting it together that way,” said Fiddleford once Stan was done explaining something. “By all accounts, this car shouldn’t be running. But she does, and beautifully, too. You’re a miracle worker, Stan.”

“Aw, come on,” said Stan modestly. “I’m no genius or nothing.”

“Why would you say that?” asked Fidds.

“You know,” said Stan. “You know Stanford.”

“What, so his way of being smart is the only kind there is? We are talking about the fella who used to wear clip-on bow ties with polo shirts.”

Stan couldn’t help but laugh at that. “I know! He never listened to me when I told him how bad it looked.”

“‘But it’s so much faster than tying a real one!’” said Fidds in a halfway decent impersonation of Ford. “I tell ya, it was like wrestling a hog trying to get him into something decent to meet with the dean.”

“Please tell me he never wore that to a professional meeting.”

“Not under my watch, he didn’t.”

“And you say I’m the miracle worker.”

“Well you are!” Fiddleford insisted. “Take the compliment, geez!”

“Okay, fine,” Stan relented. “I will admit I’m . . . good at taking care of the stuff that’s important to me.”

“There, was that so hard?”

Stan groaned dramatically in response.

After a moment or two, Fiddleford’s grin slowly faded. “Hey, uh, Stan? Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, shoot.”

“Has Ford ever said anything to you about another collaborator on the portal project? Besides you and me?”

“Uh . . . no, not really,” Stan lied. “Why do you ask?”

Fiddleford tugged at his hair lightly. “I’m not trying to belittle all the work Stanford’s been putting in,” he said. “Lord knows he’s practically working himself into an early grave, but the plans he’s been showing me . . . they don’t look like the work of just one person. Or even two people, if you’ve been helping him with it.”

“No way,” said Stan. “I can figure out my car okay, but an interdimensional portal? Way above my pay grade.”

“I think it might be above Stanford’s, or mine too, if I’m being completely honest,” Fiddleford admitted. “A couple times, we’ve hit some serious roadblocks, but he goes and meditates in that creepy study of his and all of a sudden he comes back with a solution that’s completely out of left field. It’s like he’s consulting somebody, but he won’t tell me who. He just says some hokum about determination and keeping an open mind. It’s seriously starting to worry me.”

Now Stan was worried too. Hadn’t he told Ford he needed to come clean to his partner, here? Ford should know how serious the situation was if Stan was promoting honesty. He really seemed to think he could keep stringing Fiddleford along here and everything would be fine. Stan was sorely tempted to just tell Fiddleford the truth regardless. But would Ford take such a betrayal lightly? He’d probably see it as Stan messing up his work again. And Stan didn’t want to risk another falling out with him.

“I don’t know why he makes the decisions he does,” Stan said honestly. “There are some things he doesn’t trust me with either.”

They both jumped as the front door to the cabin creaked open. But it was only Shifty, now in the form of an anthropomorphic frog. He glistened with dampness, still fresh out of his bath. “Uncle Stan?” he called.

“What’s up, kid?” asked Stan.

“Dad fell asleep on accident. And he . . .” Shifty’s eyes fell on Fiddleford. “He’s not alone.”

He must mean that Ford was communing with Bill again, but couldn’t say so openly in front of Fiddleford.

“What do you mean?” asked Fiddleford. “Is it that invisible wizard?”

Stan snorted. “No. I wish.”

Fiddleford’s eyes widened, and his knee started bouncing. “Then who?”

One ability Stan had always taken pride in was his aptitude for finding loopholes. And boy, had he found one.

Stan told Fiddleford, “I promised Ford I wouldn’t say anything to you about it. But I never said I wouldn’t show you the truth. Come on.”

Fidds was hesitant about taking part in a spell, but his need for answers ended up outweighing his concern, and he laid a shaky hand on Ford’s head, where it lay limply on his desk in the basement. Stan added his own hand, then read the spell off the notecard Ford had written for him. Fiddleford’s uncertain expression gave way to confusion and discomfort as Stan stumbled over the Latin words. But that didn’t last long before both their eyes glowed brightly.

He and Fidds touched down on a beach much cleaner than Stan remembered at home, yet it looked familiar all the same. Though the sky looked clear over the ocean, mist obscured the town and the boardwalk.

“Stan, where are we? This looks like . . .”

“It’s our hometown, but different,” said Stan. “I guess it’s whatever version exists in Ford’s mind.”

“We’re in his mind?”

“Yeah. Ford gave me that spell so I could come meet the guy who inspired him to build the portal. I figured you should meet him, too.”

“Is he . . . dead?”

“Is who dead?”

“This other collaborator Ford won’t tell me about.”

“No, he’s not dead. He’s . . . actually, there’s a lot I don’t know about him. That’s why we’re here.”

“So where is he?”

“I dunno. Hey Sixer! I used the spell you gave me, so what gives? Where’s this Bill guy?”

“His name is Bill?”

“Shh!” Stan listened for an answer from Ford, but none came. “You’d think I’d be able to talk to Ford inside his own mind,” he grumbled.

“Well, he is asleep,” said Fiddleford. “Maybe he can’t consciously respond. Maybe we need to go deeper into his subconscious, or something.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Stan turned upwind of the misty town. “Come on, let’s go this way.”

It didn’t take long for Stan to find the cave where he and Ford had found the Stan-o-War. He and Fidds stepped inside, only to find several tunnels branching off from the main one.

“There weren’t this many tunnels in the cave back home,” Stan told him. “I think we’re on the right track, here.”

“Which one should we take?” Fidds asked.

“That one.”

“Why that one?”

“Gotta pick one of them, why not that one?”

Even within the tunnel, several small cavities branched off from it, each glowing with hazy recollections. Stan focused on one of them and saw a memory of Shermie in army fatigues, shortly after he’d been accepted into the ROTC. “I figured I’d get drafted anyway,” he was telling the twelve-year-old twins. “At least this way I get school paid for, and I don’t gotta rely on Pa anymore.”

“We’re not gonna rely on him for anything, neither,” said kid Stan. “Once we get the Stan-o-War fixed up, we’re sailing outta here, too.”

Shermie smiled at them indulgently. “I’ll keep an eye out for you two, then. Look out for each other while I’m gone, okay?”

Not all the cavities displayed memories. Some of them were filled with ideas. Fiddleford tisked at one of them. “Oh no, darlin’, that ain’t gonna work,” he said, and pulling out a marker, he wrote an equation over the surface of it.

Stan wasn’t sure what to tease him for, the term of endearment that had slipped his tongue, or the pathological need to correct his not-boyfriend’s math. But before Stan could decide, he realized something.

“Fiddleford, where did you get that marker from?”

“Huh?”

“You didn’t reach into your pocket before you started writing with it. Trust me, a pickpocket notices these things.”

Fiddleford looked at the marker, puzzled. “I could’ve sworn I - but come to think of it, I don’t remember ever buying a red marker like this. Then how -”

Stan stretched out his hand and a Pitt Cola filled it. He popped the tab and drank from the can. “Not bad,” he said.

Fiddleford’s eyes widened, wondering. “We can just - create things out of thin air?” And then he started rambling, going on about the physical properties of mental matter or whatever, until Stan interrupted him.

“Do you think we’ll be able to find Ford if we just - will him to be here or something?”

Fiddleford tapped his chin as he mulled Stan’s idea over. “How will we know it’s actually him and not just a projection of him made up from our minds?”

“Yeah, good point. But if the laws of physics don’t matter here -” Stan started sinking into the ground.

“What the -”

Stan smiled up at Fiddleford, assuring him he was doing this on purpose. “I think this place has multiple levels. Let's see what’s under here, shall we?”

The “ground” in Ford’s mindscape turned out to be a lot thinner than it looked. Stan could feel his feet dangling in midair on the other side, while he was only up to his hips on the surface. Stan held his breath as for one terrifying moment the ground enclosed around his head and shoulders, then thankfully, his eyes opened to a starry expanse.

It was at once comical and wondrous watching the night sky spit out Fiddleford as well. His legs seemed to grow out of a point in space perpendicular to Stan. Out of curiosity, Stan ran his hand through the “other side” of the metaphorical sphincter Fiddleford was stuck in - where supposedly the rest of his body would be coming from - but Stan couldn’t feel any barrier. He guessed from the perspective of the cave, it looked like they were sinking into the floor, but in this place, they were being squeezed out of a random point in space. Stan resolved never to bring this up to neither Ford nor Fiddleford lest he be subjected to another boring lecture about theoretical physics.

When Fiddleford’s face emerged, it was facing away from Stan. Fiddleford cried out, “What - where -” before Stan grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and reoriented him so they were facing the same way. Fidds seemed to relax upon making eye contact with Stan.

“Okay,” he said. “Where do you reckon we are now?”

Stan shrugged. “Makes sense that Sixer would have a place like this inside his head, though.”

Fidds smiled. “Yeah.”

That was when they heard it - Ford’s voice, echoing through the seemingly endless expanse.

“I would love to move the schedule up too,” he was saying. “If only I didn’t have to waste so much time sleeping.”

Stan saw Fiddleford looked as exasperated as he felt. Ford was hardly sleeping at all as it was, of course he wanted to make his sleep deprivation even worse.

“You’re right,” said another voice that sounded nothing like Ford. “The limitations you meatbags have are pretty frustrating.”

“Is that him?” Fiddleford asked Stan. “Bill?”

“I think so.”

It took a sustained mental effort, but soon they were hurtling through the air, closer to the sound of the voices, until they collided with a jumble of giant books and papers, with the occasional clock or sextant thrown in. They landed on a table-sized copy of one of Ford’s journals. From there they could see Ford with his back turned to them, talking to someone who, from their vantage point, was covered by an unfurled scroll.

“Just because your brain needs to sleep doesn’t mean the rest of you has to, Sixer,” Ford’s muse was saying.

“He lets Bill call him Sixer?” Stan grumbled. “That’s always been our thing.”

“Make a deal with me, and I’ll be able to take over your body and keep you productive while you sleep. That way you’ll make better use of your time.”

“You cain’t seriously be thinking of turning your body over to him!” Fiddleford cried out.

Ford turned to them in surprise. “Fiddleford? What are you doing here? Stan?”

Stan tried to act confident, as if he weren’t purposefully bending the promise he’d made to Ford. “You invited me, remember? I thought it was about time we got the whole portal assembly team together.”

“But I never said -”

“Well well well well well!” said Bill, and the scroll obstructing him from view turned and stretched itself out to Stan and Fiddleford, creating a walkway for them. “Looks like we have a full party in here!”

“You’re a triangle,” Stan said in surprise. He’d thought that painting on that jar was just an abstraction or something. But no, Bill was literally a triangle. A cute little triangle in a top hat and puny little stick limbs.

“Way to go, Pac-Man, you learned your basic shapes,” Bill said condescendingly.

Stan clenched his fist in annoyance. What kind of a nickname was Pac-Man, anyway? And since when were he and Bill on nickname terms?

“He’s just surprised, Bill,” Ford explained. “He’s never met a two-dimensional being before.”

“I’ll say,” said Bill. “You boys have a lot to learn. Have you tried investing in gold, Specs?”

It took Fiddleford a minute to realize the triangle was talking to him. “Uh, my name’s Fiddleford. Fiddleford McGucket. And I think I’d rather ask you some questions about the portal project, if you don’t mind.”

“What’s to ask? Use my designs, and you’ll strike the mother lode of all weirdness. Get your name on some groundbreaking research, and finally own a house with a screen door that shuts right. Not that your ‘wife’ wants you walking through that screen door anytime soon. Tough break, huh?”

“Excuse me?”

“Chill out, Specs, I was only teasing. Here, I got you a consolation present.”

He tossed a banana to Fiddleford, which unpeeled itself in his hand, revealing a grotesque facial expression carved into the fruit. “Hyuk! Congrats on the divorce! Congrats on the divorce!” it chanted.

Fiddleford dropped the banana as if it had burned him and stomped on it the way he would a roach. “Die, you unholy goat-bred hellspawn!”

Bill seemed to find this very amusing, if his obnoxious laugh was anything to go by.

“Bill has a unique sense of humor,” Ford said apologetically.

“That’s no excuse for being outright rude,” said Fiddleford. “I can see why you decided to lie to me about him, though.”

Ford wilted under Fiddleford’s gaze. “Can you blame me? I knew you wouldn’t like him, but my research wouldn’t be where it is today without him.”

“And your health wouldn’t be either.”

“I’m fine.”

“No you ain’t, or you wouldn’t be giving your body to Beelzebub here!”

“This is why I knew I couldn’t tell you about Bill. I knew you’d think it’s the devil’s work, but it has to happen if I want this project to succeed!”

Stan gritted his teeth. Fiddleford had really put Ford on Bill’s defense here. Stan would have to take another tack in order to talk Ford out of this.

“Why don’t I take the deal then?” Stan suggested. “We know my brain’s been practically useless. You should just use me whenever. Why settle for a timeshare when you can buy this place outright, Bill?”

“No!” Ford and Fiddleford both cried vehemently.

“Why not? It makes the most sense, doesn’t it?”

Ford shook his head. “You can’t really think this project is worth your bodily autonomy -”

“You think yours is,” Stan countered.

"It's not the same! I'm the one who has to change the world. You don't achieve anything unless you're the one who makes the sacrifices."

"And what will changing the world get you if you break yourself getting there?" said Fiddleford. "These past few weeks, seeing your dedication has really inspired me. But it's also scared me half to death. You weren't pushing yourself this hard when you were in three PhD programs at once. And now you're literally trying to work even in your sleep. You wouldn't do this to anyone you care about. Why are you doing this to yourself?"

Ford looked upset and confused, which was better than angry and defensive, at least. But before Stan could try to capitalize on this, Bill cut in.

“I gotta hand it to you, Specs, Pac-Man. You guys really care about Sixer here. I can respect that. I want the best for him, too. That’s why I’m so eager to get this portal finished. When I enter your world with a body of my own, possibilities will be open to the three of you that you never even dreamed of. The money and fame from discovering the Unified Theory of Weirdness will be child’s play compared to owning an entire galaxy or bending the laws of physics to your will. With all three of you fully on board, nothing can hold us back. So what do you say?” Bill outstretched his hands to them. “Shall we make this twosome a foursome?”

This triangle was really going for the hard sell, here. Something must have him spooked.

“Bending the laws of physics?” Fiddleford echoed him. “Ain’t we doing that already? You must be the one who told Ford that the Complementary Cosmicality Model wouldn’t calculate the interdimensional coordinates correctly.”

“Of course it won’t.” Bill sounded impatient. “Look, which of us has actually traveled between dimensions before? If you follow my lead, you can’t possibly go wrong.”

“If you know how to travel between dimensions yourself,” said Stan, “then what do you need us for? Can’t you build a portal from your end?”

Bill laughed at Stan’s question. “You really think I wouldn’t do that if I could? Leave the big questions to the big brains, Pac-Man.”

“Enlighten us, then,” said Fiddleford. “What’s so special about our world that you’re so desperate to get to it?”

“NOTHING,” Bill insisted. “I could set up shop in any three-dimensional -”

“Set up shop for what?” asked Ford. The other three looked at him in surprise. He’d seemed to have withdrawn from the conversation, but now he gave Bill a scrutinizing look. “You never said you wanted to come to our dimension before. Why would you hide that from me?”

“Not telling isn’t the same as hiding. You weren’t ready for it, Sixer. Everyone else I told couldn’t handle the idea of me liberating their dimension. But I thought you would be different. Was I wrong?”

“What are you trying to ‘liberate’ our dimension from?” asked Fiddleford.

“Come on,” said Bill. “You can’t tell me you guys actually like the stupid rules that are making Sixer and Specs act like they don’t wanna boink each other. And you, Pac-Man, when have the laws of physics ever done you any favors? Who voted on them anyway?”

“You can’t seriously wanna do away with - with the concept of order itself,” said Fiddleford. “How many people would even survive this ‘liberation’ of yours?”

Bill rolled his eye. “You mortals are all the same. Focused so much on surviving that you forget about living. You SAY you like the unconventional, but once things get WEIRD, you start clinging to the status quo again. Well, your security blanket is HOLDING YOU BACK. And if you’re not going to let go of it, you can BURN WITH IT.”

“Get out,” said Ford.

Bill turned on him, growing taller and redder as he did. “WHAT?”

“You’ve been using me, lying to me this whole time. You tried to make me distrust my brother again. How can I even trust myself after I almost destroyed everything I care about, chasing the prize you promised me?”

“You’re PATHETIC. I can’t believe I EVER thought you’d be THE ONE. LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING, SIXER, YOU’LL REGRET BREAKING A DEAL WITH ME. YOU INVITED ME INTO YOUR MIND, AND YOU CAN’T UNDO THAT. YOU’LL NEVER REST AGAIN AS LONG AS YOU LIVE.”

“You heard him,” Stan said to Bill. “Get the fuck out of my brother’s mind.” And with that, he drove a brass-knuckled fist right through Bill’s midsection, leaving a crumbling hole beneath his bowtie.

Bill staggered, his eye narrowing. “YOU THINK IT’S THAT EASY TO GET RID OF ME? YOU CAN THROW AS MANY PUNCHES AS YOU LIKE, BUT I’LL BE BACK. AND WHEN I DO MAKE IT TO YOUR DIMENSION, YOU’LL BE THE FIRST PUNY LIFE FORMS I WIPE OFF THE MAP.”

Stan’s eyes had only just readjusted from the flash of light Bill had disappeared into when their surroundings started to get light again. Within moments, Stan found himself sitting up on the concrete basement floor, rubbing at his eyes.

Ford, however, was already on his feet and rummaging through the piles of tools he and Fidds left lying around. “Don’t we have a sledgehammer somewhere in here?” he asked.

“What happened?” asked Shifty. “Why are you all so afraid?”

“It’s okay,” Stan told him. “Your dad isn’t working with Bill anymore.”

“I should have listened to you two,” said Ford. “I should have realized I couldn’t trust him. I should never have started building that portal. It’s dangerous.” He hadn’t managed to find a sledgehammer, but he had gotten his hands on a crowbar, and he was studying the portal as if looking for the right place to apply it.

“No,” Fiddleford said. He stood and took Ford by the wrist of his hand that held the crowbar. “Now’s not the time to make rash decisions. This portal ain’t nowhere near functional yet, there’s no danger in letting it stay that way.”

“It could’ve destroyed the world,” said Ford, hanging his head. “I could’ve destroyed the world.”

“But you didn’t,” Fiddleford assured him. He took Ford’s chin in his free hand and lifted it gently. “It won’t.”

Ford’s hand slackened and he let the crowbar fall to the floor. Shifty cringed at the clang it made, and Stan gathered him up in his arms. Ford told Fiddleford, “I’ll let you decide what to do with it, then. I - I can’t even stand to look at it now.”

He broke out of his partner’s grasp and stalked toward the elevator, trench coat billowing out behind him. Fiddleford turned back to Stan, showing the same concern Stan was certainly wearing on his own face.

“He’ll be fine,” said Stan. “He just needs to sulk for a bit and then he’ll be over it.”

Stan wished he could be as confident as he sounded.

#gravity falls #fix it fic #fiddauthor #mystery trio #fanfic #9k words #heaven help me how did it get to 9k #otp: not just research partners

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jabbagabba · 3 years

Text

La La Land

Read Prologue

Warning ⚠️

Triggering subjects: disassociation, manipulation, mind control, grief. (READ AT OWN RISK)

Wandavision: spoilers (up to episode 6 - just to be safe), violence

———

Pools Of Despair

You weren’t sure how long it’d been, the drive feeling as though it had taken a lifetime. It might have been just down the road and you wouldn’t have been able to tell; time seemed to move torturously slow under Wanda’s control.

She tried to keep herself calm besides your frozen body, already thinking of a way out as she turned the steering wheel. But it was too late to go back.

‘No other way. No other way.’ The words replayed over and over in her head as she finally made it to the front of the building, and it was the first time she fully looked at you. Your face was stoic, the only sign of life being the soft breaths escaping your mouth. You couldn’t look at her - even if you wanted to - and as she reached a hand to your face, the feeling of complete numbness returned.

During the drive there had been small moments of clarity; moments where for the first time you felt in control. It was almost euphoric being able to push through the fog.

But then, as quickly as it had subsided, she would crawl her way back in.

Even now as she turned you toward her fully, you tried to swim through the heaviness, but the black swirls of grief and anguish just got tighter the harder you fought.

Wanda sighed in annoyance. “You can’t go in looking like that.” She pulled at a strand of her hair with a small huff. “Need glasses.”

You were sure if you had control of your body, the pain of your neck would be unbearable, the awkward angle surely making every muscle strain as you were forced to watch her pull apart the car.

This had to have been owned by the only man on the planet that didn’t carry sunglasses in their car. Wanda almost laughed, a punishment for stealing it? She couldn’t be sure.

“Well...” Wanda pulled the blue and white baseball cap by the brim from under her seat. “Better then nothing.” She gave a small smile as she adjusted it on your head, pulling back and grabbing your hand and letting it rest in her lap. “If there was any other way, I swear, I would let you go. But... I just... I can’t live without him.”

You said nothing as she cried.

———

“Head down, get Vision. Leave.” Her voice plagued your every step, each word carved into your brain as you finally reached the front desk.

‘Sword’ was a nice place - or at least had nice flooring - and from the bright light that filled each and every inch of the glossy tile, you knew there had to be a lot of glass. It was a government building after all.

“Can I help you?” Her voice is chirpy, a polite smile painted on her lips, you don’t need to see her eyes to know it wasn’t anything but genuine. She lets the wheels of her chair carry her forward, her computer forgotten besides her as you near the desk.

“Do you have... a meeting?” She smiles again, more forced and you’re able to see the golden pin on her chest that proudly says ‘Mary’ and try once more to float above the darkness.

“I -“ The word leaves your lips aprubtly and the fight drains from you just as fast. “I’m here to inquire about some of my father’s equipment. I’d like it back.” You let the darkness swallow you whole.

“And who are you again?” Mary is quick to pull her deskphone to her ear, hand hovering over the numbers.

———

The name that fell from her lips made Mary freeze. She looked up with wide eyes, both fearful and exited.

Starks were top priority at ‘SWORD’ - she was sure they were top priority everywhere - and as she desperately tried to recall if her boss mentioned anything about Stark equipment, the girl’s patients quickly wore thin.

“Can you please just tell me where to go? I have a long drive ahead of me.” Her voice was a sharp contrast from her apparance. The girl’s voice was stern and loud while her body was scrunched in on itself, eyes glued to the desk. Mary took a glance over the desk and saw the dark fabric of a dress, the hat didn’t even match the girl’s shoes.

“Right.” Mary said. “I’m sorry, just a little... starstruck.” She tried to keep her cool, turning again in her chair and started typing as fast as possible on her little keyboard. The atmosphere was thick with uncomfortable silence and Mary had to make sure not to shiver in the girl’s presence. She scrolled down the list of names and let out a small “ah” when she found your name. Just as quickly as she clicked on it, a pop up window filled the screen

STARK - Access Denined. Call Security

She felt sick; her nerves making her skin pucker as she tried to keep calm. When Mary finally found the courage to move, bile reached through her throat as she saw red eyes looking back.

“Ahh!” Mary was quick to jump out of her chair.

“Fine.” The girl sighed, hand flat on the counter as she took long strides around it. “If you won’t help me.” A red trail flowed through one of the doors; slithering like a snake as it wrapped around the shell shocked receptionist. “I’ll do it myself.”

———

Wanda’s mind had warped, grief and anger become one as she ripped through each and every room of the building. No one was safe from the witch’s wrath as she swung them through various glass panels and equipment. By the third turn she took, guards had given up, opting to instead try desperately to get out of her way.

She had left you at the desk, too transfixed to care and as she heard the various shouts of alarm from down the hallway, she was glad you weren’t in her way.

———

The group of four man were shocked; watching as the two guards dropped their guns and put their hands up for mercy.

“We’ll give you what you want. Please!” One of them - Felix - cried as the woman barreled through the double doors.

Wanda simply flicked her hand and he was sent flying to a wall, his partner following.

“Where is he?” Her accent was thick and the youngest tech almost asked her to repeat herself. “Where is Vision?” The stunned silence only fueled her anger. “You.” Red swirled under one of the men’s feet and lifted him from the ground. “Where?”

If the man could have, he’d be shivering in fear right about now. His life was in the hands of a deranged woman who with a simple flick of her wrist could send him plummeting down ten floors.

Wanda tightened her hold on him in warning and he knew he had to speak.

“Behind us.” He said. “There is a set of double doors, turn left and there’s an examination room.”

“He should be there!” A colleague on his left was shaking as she turn to face him. “He’s not lying.” Wanda let her power swim under him once more beofre gently letting him go.

“Thank you.” She gave a small smile. “Now, go.”

They didn’t have to be told twice.

———

Wanda felt as though she couldn’t breathe, the sight of her dead lover on the table was crippling. Vision was a dark grey; his eyes blank as they stared into her. If it wasn’t for the table itself she would have probably collapsed on to the floor as sobs took over her.

“I cant. I can’t. I -“ The words fell from her lips like a mystical chant. She couldn’t look at him anymore, his body was nothing but an empty shell of parts.

When her body turned to ash; Wanda was ready to die, her last shred of humanity died with Vision. The battlefield would be her final resting place. She chose to spend her last moments hoping that If there was a God that they’d be merciful, that she’d be allowed to spent her afterlife in blissful ignorance.

But instead she woke up.

Five years had passed and she was still there, only now she was alone. It was only after the death of Tony Stark that she let the floodgate of loss fill up her veins. While Thanos was alive, she had a mission; kill him and reverse the snap.

Wanda never imagined the pain that followed. She should have died that day, why couldn’t she have died that day?

Grief had a knack for turning the strongest people into helpless pools of despair.

Vision deserved better. That was what go her up, got her to calm her tears and push herself up. She wasn’t going to let them win. Vision was hers to mourn, to love, and hers to take care of.

She had a new mission, one that was stronger then her need to submit to pain.

But... she needed help carrying him.

———

Your body moved through the halls, following the tethered rope of energy that wrapped around your waist. If it wasn’t for your boots, your feet would have been covered in cuts from the sharp edges of the broken glass that filled the hallways.

The fog had cleared more then before and if you tried hard enough, you might’ve even been able to pull free completely. Wanda was exhausted and the fight had been ripped from you So you let her pull you, let the fog seep through every inch of you.

And as you entered the small room, you forgot you were suppose to care anymore.

“I need you to hold onto his legs.” She said softly, hand stroking his cheek. “Easier to carry both of you.” Your body moved again and you placed a gentle hand onto vision’s ankle.

Wanda wiped the last of her tears away, grabbed onto his arm, and all three of you were lifted off the ground.

———

Hot air blew through Wanda’s hair making her hands continuously push back strands from her face as she walked. The afternoon sun was unrelenting and she had to take several short breaks.

The car was too dangerous to return to - a swarm of agents was not something she wanted to deal with - and controlling someone for almost 24 hour straight took a lot out of her. Her hold on you was weak enough for you to sometimes fully take over, her control turning into a dull ache at the back of your brain.

As she walked in front of you thoughts of running flooded through your brain but the walking had tired your body out, and you were sure that if her little pushes weren’t there, you’d have already collapsed. Even if you had the strength to do it, the empty roads had long ago turned into tall trees and bush. You were in the middle of nowhere and getting loss in the woods with a heartbroken witch was not something you wanted to deal with. So, like a trained puppy, you followed silently behind Vision’s dragging body. It wasn’t hard to keep up, she was as slow as she could be while Vision’s body left a dirt trail.

“Break.” Wanda breathed. Who knew an empty little spot of grass would be so inviting? “Sit.” You felt a small push and follow it down to the ground. You let your fingers grip the direr under them, the cool breeze making you sigh.

“Where-“ The sound of your voice startled both of you but she stayed still. “Where are we going?”

She said nothing, choosing to instead turn on her knees and pull Vision forward by the arms.

“When I was little-“ Wanda smiled to herself as she stared down at Vision. “- I use to dream about this field. Me and Peitro went past it everyday during the summer. It had all these small flowers growing.” You listen intently as she giggles, eyes losing focus as she is hit with the memory. “I always tried to sneak past the fence... but, I was alway stopped by someone.” Her mouth twitches and you feel the pulsing return in your neck. “It’s probably nothing but dirt now, like everything.”

“Where are we going, Wanda?” You try to keep your voice soft, afraid of ruining the small moment as you reached out for her but she was quick to stop you, hand glowing red and inches away from your face.

“Don’t.” She warns. You nod in silent apology.

“We’re not far from a road.” Wanda let’s her hand fall back to her side. “I want you go and call whoever you need to.” You’re almost startled when her control leaves fully from your body, it almost feels empty. “Tell them what I did, or don’t, I don’t care. I have what I want.”

“Wanda -“

“Please.” The crack in her voice makes tears pool in your eyes. “Just go.”

You stand on shaking legs. The world was spinning and you felt as though you had just gotten off a rollercoaster but you tried to steady yourself. Unsure of where to go, you turn to her once more for guidance and she simply points behind you.

Your conscious wouldn’t let you leave. Wanda was tired and you were afraid of leaving her alone. Regardless of what she did; you knew you couldn’t blame her, she had lost everyone.

In a way, so did you.

“I’m sorry about Vision.” Wanda looked up again and gave you a small nod. “About Pietro, about everyone. I wish it was different.”

“Me too, Stark.” She let her fingers wrap around your hand and squeezed. The warmth from the dock returned and you couldn’t help but give her a small grin of gratitude. “I meant what I said at the funeral.”

Both of you were so wrapped up in your own little bubble, you didn’t even question why the birds stopped.

————

Tag list (open, just ask)

@white-wolf-buckaroo @y-napotat

All my stuff is open, and I’m always happy to hear from people so feel free to let me know what ya thought. I always get stuck halfway through writing but I hope it wasn’t too hard to read.

Next chapter will be fun.

#wandavison x reader #wandavision imagine #wanda maximoff imagine #stark!reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #teen!reader #daughter!reader #dark!wanda #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #Wanda vision

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fairytsuk1 · 3 years

Text

i was all over her (a)

part of the autumn experiences collection.

pairing: yandere!tomura shigaraki x reader

genre: angst

words: 2.5k

summary: you never learn.

prompt: visitor

warnings: noncon mentions/intentions, stalking, pervertedness, this is a yandere fic

The rain was quickly soaking through his cotton shirt, chilling Tomura to the bone with a grumble threatening to work it’s way up his throat. He hadn’t brought an umbrella in protest of Kurogiri’s suggestion, he was sure it wouldn’t rain as he walked his normal path. But, he was wrong, it was fucking downpouring and his chuck-taylors were hardly holding up.

Your frog umbrella flashed in and out of the streetlights, the rhythmic step of rain boots clicking and splashing in the puddles that littered the sidewalk. Brown, muddy water rushed in the crook of the street so fast he was briefly reminded of the times he and his family used to look at fish in the nearby rivers. That was a long time ago, no need to make room for old broken memories that would soon cease to exist as he aged further in life.

What he wanted, was you. Your cute little feet stuffed into rainboots far too big for you, they were a gift from your father. That man was too flippant of your desires and needs that he didn’t even know his own child’s shoe size, a sorry excuse for a man if he were to be honest. The umbrella was a gift from your sister, adamant on you having something to keep you sheltered in this shitty ass neighborhood. You didn’t deserve to live here, he could imagine you in a perfectly manicured house with polished nails and frilly sundresses. The sun would sparkle on your skin and you’d smell flowery with a twinge of cinnamon, leaving men desperate and eager to flip up your skirt with the intent to breed you. You’d look so good, he mused. Cum filling your cunt as you squealed underneath him, pleading for more from your dearest, Tomura.

“Mmph!”

Your shoe caught onto a crack in the sidewalk, nearly sending you face first into the mess that was the gravelly street. He imagined you’d make such lovely whimpers and moans as he rammed his cock into you, greedily taking you from behind...or maybe the front? He’d like to cum inside you to mark you and maybe, if he was really desperate, your mouth.

He was working himself up, your apartment was near and the excitement was practically eating him alive with the thought that he’d be able to have you if he was just patient. It would be far too easy for you to get away and cause a scene if he grabbed you by the hair and tugged you into his arms, though, would anyone come for you? Your sister was right, this rough place that you called home was no home at all, they didn’t care about your wellbeing. They didn’t even care about basic necessities, like moving the trash bins so it would be easier for you to keep clean. They were selfish and it made him sick to think of them hurting you, taking you, and doing whatever these fucking creeps could think of. They didn’t care about you like he did.

“Hey! You live in this apartment?”

Shigaraki ducks into a nearby alleyway, back crashing against the wall as he shakes water out of his face like a wet dog. Soft pants fall from his chapped lips as water dribbles down his ears and neck. There’s a tightness in his pants and his heart is racing, a usual occurrence when he followed you home.

“Hm? Oh...yes, I do! It’s nice to meet you!” You tell him your name, why would you even think that would be a good idea? “Is there something wrong? I’m new to the area!”

The man chuckles and your stalkers red eyes peer out from behind the wall, noting your neighbors large frame practically swallowing you up. He almost couldn’t see you considering this man was huddling you into the corner and looking down at you like a piece of meat.

“You’re new? No shit, I’ve never seen a pretty thing like you before.”

You can’t even help yourself, cheeks lifting as you pull your keys out of your pocket. Must be the neglect from your parents, you’ll let just anyone in between your legs huh?

No.

He can’t think like that, you’re different. You wouldn’t, you can hardly touch yourself correctly. He’d form you into the perfect girl, perfect housewife who made him meals and let him bend you over any countertop.

“Ah, well thank you sir.”

You’ve got manners too, he likes that. He wants to hear his name-not Shigaraki-but Tomura as it rolls off your tongue, it’d be syrupy and sweet just like you.

Clunky boots step into your apartment and a creaky door is locked closed, bet that makes you feel safe huh? Like no one’s gonna hurt you? Well, under his eye they won’t. But the only thing it won’t stop is Shigaraki; climbing the white rickety stairs to follow and a copy of your key to match.

Waiting takes a long time, but it’s worth it to keep this little habit up. The water drips from his hair to his chin and neck, leaving a trail that would no doubt make him smell as disgusting as he felt. His hand reaches up to insert the key before the bulbous man from before is grunting out words that he couldn’t care to listen to. Though, the dude is utterly unrelenting and questions him, “what the hell are you doing?”

“What?”

“Are you...who the fuck are you? I thought she was single.”

Shigaraki scans him, unimpressed with the way he’d come to confront him when the two of them had the same goal in mind.

“It’s none of your business.”

The man reaches for his wrist, looking small in the meat of his palm as Shigaraki lets him play hero for the time being.

“I’m calling a hero! I have a cousin who works with Endeavor, you know! Stay here!”

“Let go of me.”

The grip is starting to hurt but the man keeps squeezing, even adding a bit more strength when the wiry man expresses resistance. Doesn’t matter, he’ll just get rid of him while he can. Can’t go around harassing women if you’re just a pile of dust, right?

Isn’t that what you do, Tomura? Stalk and harass future fucktoys? Or rather...as you like to call them, potential housewives?

Sometimes, he might blanch when those thoughts resurface, bothering him and making him feel ashamed of who he is. How could someone like him, a successor to fucking All for One feel shame? That frustration or perhaps disturbance due to the intrusive thoughts lets his anger unleash, cracking like whips in the form of crumbling the man to dust. His wife beater, something he was sure he was (though he doubted anyone would want to marry this fuck), crumbled on top of the ashes and grew soaked under the downpour.

“I told you to let go of me. Now look at you.”

What once used to be a living, breathing person, is now kicked to the drain below. Fingers itching the delicate skin near his jaw, he enters the apartment. He feels hungry, but not for food. He just wants to eat you right up. Yeah, that sounds right. Take you all for himself.

You’d discarded the boots in the alcove near your door, the frogs smiling with pink cheeks as Shigaraki’s childish shoes squash them in his path of destruction. You lie drowsily in bed, pink fluffy pajamas comforting your soft skin and a duvet pulled up to your nose. You’d normally be asleep if it weren’t for the constant nagging in your gut. It felt as though something had gone horribly wrong. The anxiety causes you to lay still in your bed as if something was watching your every breath.

It was eerily similar to the way you’d cower from your closet at night with the idea planted in your head that monsters were coming to eat you. This was only different in the way that you didn’t know what monster was coming. Not only that, you had no idea what he would do to you.

You’d call yourself crazy during times like these, but you’d been right when the door to your bedroom opens.

“I know you’re awake. You always sleep on your back, not your side.”

It’s quiet and still. There’s tension thickening in the air like gravy on the stove and you briefly wonder if this was another bout of sleep paralysis. You thought you’d been in this position before, someone or something watching you. It had never felt like this, you’d never felt so terrified in your life.

“Not up for talking, huh? A bit ungrateful considering I helped rid your little ‘home’ of that greasy pig next door.”

The footsteps grow closer and against all instincts to play dead or even just move away, you sit up and face the man. His red eyes stare down at you, face bony and cracked...he looked like something straight out of a nightmare. Most people you knew were delicate and kind; they looked like regular people. Shigaraki though...you thought that Shigaraki might eat you alive and tear you apart limb by limp. A whimper exits your mouth as you sit paralyzed whilst he simply gets closer and closer.

His eyes trace the neckline of your sleeping shirt, a scoop neck that showed the smattering of beauty marks adorning your skin. You were so beautiful, he grinned and planted his bottom at the edge of your bed. You shook, the water logged clothes easily soaking through to you and making your heart sink deeper in your chest. You held a confused look, like a deer in headlights or maybe a puppy with twitching ears.

“I’m...I’m sorry…”

“Why are you apologizing? Aren’t I the one who broke in?”

Cry for me. You’d look so good and I’d commit it to memory, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

“You’re such a pushover, how’d you let this happen? Hm?”

The tears build at your lash line until finally falling in fat droplets down your cheeks. Your hands turn to fists like a child as you rub your eyes, no defenses in place other than to cry like a submissive brat. Your breaths were uneven as you attempted to wipe away tears until a quick hand caught your wrist, pinky lifted.

“Look at me, when you cry. Gets me off,” he giggles before leaning so close your lips could almost touch, “did you know that? Everytime you sobbed in your pillow, I had a hard time choosing whether or not I should cuddle you or jerk off.”

A broken wail escapes you as your body finally makes the move to get away, your feet kick in the tangled sheets and you attempt to wrangle your wrist away from him, thrashing and beating on his chest desperately. He almost felt a bit sad, sure, he was a bit mean with the teasing. But...you had to have known that someday someone was going to come for you like this, right?

It’s easy to intercept your punches, holding both wrists at your head as he leaned over you. His hair framed the two of you, leaving you completely caged in this man. His lithe body scooched up yours, hips resting at yours for a moment.

“I’m gonna make you mine, well, more like you already are mine. Tomura Shigaraki's little wife. Okay? So you’re gonna come with me to the base without complaints, yeah?”

A brave scream tore through your mouth as you arched your back, trying for a second escape attempt. His left hand detached from your arm to grab your throat, cries quickly dying out as you thrashed wildly.

“If my pinky touches this vein right here, you’ll turn into a pile of dirt. If that happens, I’ll move onto someone else. So come on; do you really want to be the cause of someone’s future suffering? Give up, daddy taught you better than to fight.”

“How…?”

He laughed heartily, your throat clenching under his grip before he loosened to let you get a whoosh of air.

“Seriously? It’s so obvious you’re a daddy’s girl, take the stupid little gifts, listen to his every command, and wait for the day he decides to acknowledge you. It’s practically...practically predictable! You’re predictable and sad.”

His words feel like venom as you cry, the lack of oxygen making fuzzy black spots dot your vision. He might kill you in this moment, your lungs squeezed and he finally let go. You sputtered, body confused with it’s sudden freedom as you looked up at him with glassy eyes and snot dripping down past your lips to your chin.

“You look tired, I’ll take you home okay?”

You’re dazed, you almost don’t recognize the way he peels back the covers and grazes his hands up your thighs, exposing every inch of skin as if you were a present meant to be savoured.

“I’m a virgin! Please don’t…”

A look flashes in his eyes as he peers at you from his lashes.

“Perfect, just makes you even sweeter.”

You hadn’t thought you could cry more, but every word that came out of his predatory lips made a new wave of heartache resurface, was this really who you were? A weak girl who could let herself be lifted into the arms of a man she didn’t know, fingers digging into the plump flesh of her bottom as she weakly clung on?

A memory flashes in your mind as you let yourself be taken care of...well no, be kidnapped from your bedroom. It was the one with the high school boys, the way they’d flipped up your skirt and prodded at your weakest, most sensitive places. You’d cried for them to stop, told your father what the sickening boys had done to you. They’d practically defiled you, maybe would have gone so far to take you in that empty classroom had you not kicked one of them square in the shin.

Your father’s words ring in your ears.

“Well, you must have done something for that to happen. Don’t wear such short skirts next time.”

A hand comes to caress the top of your head. Tomura’s, he had you right where he wanted you. Vulnerable and weak to his advances, you were tired too. This was just going to make things easier.

The rain has slowed to a drizzle, you shivered in his arms and prayed to God for forgiveness as you buried yourself closer to him, the warmth comforting and soothing for your soul. Your bare feet swung limply as he kept you pressed to his front, walking on a seemingly practiced path. He was all over you.

If he could apologize, Tomura didn’t think he would. He had to be all over you. Consume your soul like the evillest of demons.

“Cheer up, maybe if you’d been a bit more vigilant, this would have never happened.”

Your bottom lip trembled, maybe love was not destined for you. After all, you must have been asking for this.

“And by the way...you know I love you right?”

You’d heard it a million times before.

#bnha #bnha x reader #yandere bnha #yandere bnha x reader #tomura imagine #tomura x y/n #tomura x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x y/n #yandere shigaraki #yandere tomura

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caker-baker · 3 years

Note

I love your super speed vs. telepathy snippets so much! Well, actually, I love all of your writing but I was really hoping you might continue it please? I would be very grateful!

The faces of the hero’s friends, cohorts, whatever one should call them, were clear in the villain’s mind, the hero had each memorized quite well.

They once again pulled at the mental track, letting go once they knew their hero was far away from whatever this place was.

Heroes didn’t always get the luxury of nicer headquarters, the villain had to admit that. If they couldn’t steal money, they must get it from their day jobs, or wherever they disappeared to when they weren’t fighting.

The clearly used pin pad showed wear on the numbers the hero had in their head, the passcode could’ve been figured out even if the villain didn’t go through their mind.

8, 5, 18, 15, 5, 19.

It corresponded with the alphabet, spelling ‘heroes’. A stupid name, a stupid passcode, even the hero thought that.

No matter.

The villain was able to walk right in, hands shoved in pockets, a grin on their face.

It was quiet in the talking sense, not extraordinary by any means. Four people in total lounged about.

Only one hero took immediate note at first. If the hero’s, now the villain’s memory served, this hero had no particular powers, but she was a skilled fighter.

And loud.

It’s the crazy villain. The others haven’t noticed. Where are their weak points? Attack first or wait?

So unorganized, this hero’s thoughts.

“Personally,” the villain began, slowly taking their hands out of their pockets. “I would attack first. It makes it easier on me.”

“Guys.” The unorganized hero said, voice stern. Her words were of no use, though, as the three others had already stood.

A thousand thoughts hit at once.

That’s not Hero.

Why hasn’t Hero come back yet?

They knew the passcode.

What did they do to Hero?

It didn’t work.

Did Hero betray us, or did Villain use them?

Not this one. Anyone but this one.

Its three against one this time.

The villain winced slightly, while the heroes had taken their fighting stances.

“Is it too many at once, Villain?” One of them taunted. Their words were brave, albeit foolish, yet their mind betrayed them.

“No point in putting on a brave face.” The villain said. “Not when I know how you really feel.”

The first attack came directly from the villain’s front - the fighter.

They knew they weren’t as good as her in physical fighting, but her strategizing skills needed polishing, especially considering the villain could hear where she planned to attack.

What was meant to be a surely vicious punch to the jaw ended up as an arm twisted behind her back.

The villain heard the next move before this fighting hero did.

Even if she didn’t realize it, she was thinking about how to get out of this on a subconscious level, her body just recognized it before her mind.

With no remorse, the villain pulled her closer, fingers on her temple, vaguely wondering why they hadn’t used this trick more often.

“Sleep.” They commanded, watching her fall to the ground.

Three other heroes had stood in silence. According to their thoughts, what she just did was incredibly reckless, incredibly unplanned. The same question did find its way to all of their minds - Will she ever wake up?

“She will.” The villain answered the unspoken worry. “Just in time to see your ruin.”

Two of the others seemed much more cautious, brute strength and the force of wind is what they had to work with. The third lingered back, not the fighting type, it seemed. They looked to be the whitecoat the villain had seen, strangely unfamiliar in an unprofessional setting.

“Where’s Hero?” The wind hero asked, slowly circling the villain along with the strong one.

“Ah, here and there. I don’t presume to know their whereabouts.” Well...

“What did you do to them?” The strong one demanded, much more hotheaded than their counterparts.

“My, oh my.” There was a strange look on the villain’s face, one the heroes didn’t care for. “I’m not using them for any ‘sick experiments’, as you are thinking, it’s not quite my style. You, however-”

An arm was wrapped around the villain’s neck, who took the opportunity to elbow the strong one in the gut. It didn’t really work, it wasn’t really meant to work, the villain just needed some sort of physical contact they initiated.

“Sleep.” The commanded, and though this one’s grip faltered they didn’t entirely let go of the villain.

Fine enough.

The wind one rushed forward, the strong arm still holding the villain, who used the anchor behind them to kick the oncoming hero.

“Sleep.” The villain commanded more harshly, feeling the grip around them weaken and fall.

At this point, the villain had to remind themselves of their strengths, the effort it took for the strong arm nearly draining them.

Still, there was only the wind one left before they could get to the whitecoat.

“You’ve seen what I can do.” The villain said, eyeing the hero who was doubled over from their kick.

“But you haven’t seen me.”

The silence of a building turned into the whistling of the winds, gusts of air flowing about in harsh and rapid movements.

“I wonder,” the villain spoke over the roaring. “if the others know of the little sordid affair you and the strong arm are having, how far you would fall from the fighter’s good graces.”

The winds died suddenly.

“You’re lying.” An aghast hero muttered, their confidence waning . “We aren’t..I wouldn’t-”

“Ah, lying to a telepath,” the villain chuckled, slowly closing the distance between them. “You know, Hero tried the same thing. Remind me where they are again?”

The wind hero staggered slightly, but was caught by a cold hand clutching the back of their neck.

“It’s much easier to do this when one is mentally beaten down.” The villain grinned. “Sleep.”

Onto the ground they went.

“Then there was one.” The villain said ominously.

The building now seemed to lack a whitecoat the villain was keen on finding, although that wasn’t really the case. The case was a scared tag along ‘hero’ used for medical expertise was hiding somewhere.

“I can hear your thoughts. Please don’t concern yourself with such fears, I just want to talk.”

The villain thought they would be kind, and wait for the whitecoat to reveal themselves before dragging them out by the collar.

It didn’t happen.

Without making a sound, the villain made their way to a small door, one meant to hold who knows what, but also one being used to hide in.

“Boo.” The villain said, opening the door.

While the whitecoat shrieked, the villain tutted.

“I told you.” They said, taking hold of a trembling collar. “I just wanted to talk.”

The second the whitecoat was heaved upward, they tried to make a dash for it, only for something hard to hit them, mentally.

“You are much easier to keep still.” The villain admitted. “You, like everyone else, are noisy. There’s more of you to take hold of. Every room I walk into is filled with people thinking bigger than life. It’s exhausting, it’s rude.”

“I-” they stammered, frozen limbs incapable of shaking. “I-I’m sorry. Is there-is there some-something I can do for you?”

The villain cocked their head. “Everyone seems to be afraid of me. There is only one who managed to keep calm throughout their fear.” They looked the whitecoat up and down once, unsatisfied with whatever they saw.

“You are smart.” The villain commented.

“Tha-thank you.”

“But so easily you yield to the voices of those heroes.” The disdain in the villain’s voice would have made the whitecoat flinch, if not for their being kept in place.

“Do you know what they felt?” The villain continued, fixing a glare on their target. “I know. I was in the hero’s head, and all they wanted was peace. Peace you denied them. It was well enough of you to send them to me, they would have died otherwise.”

“The-” the whitecoat made to defend themselves. “There was-wasn’t a ch-choice.”

“Oh, spare me your ramblings.” The villain scoffed. “No choice, it’s your job, the hero was fine with it, every pathetic excuse on your tongue is useless. Tell me, would you prefer I put you to sleep before the place blows?”

“P-pl-please, no.”

“You would rather stay in place?” The villain smiled. “How brave.”

“Villain?”

Damn, they hadn’t been paying attention to the mental track.

“Hero.” The villain greeted, not turning around to face them.

“This is why you wanted me away for a while.” The hero muttered, pieces of evidence coming together. “It would give you time to do...”

The villain still hadn’t turned to face them, but could hear the hero’s thoughts while investigating their sleeping teammates. Mainly, they were relieved none of them were dead.

Yet.

“H-hero.” The whitecoat managed to bite out.

With a withering glare from the villain, the whitecoat shut their mouth again.

“You have me in an awkward position, pet. Didn’t you promise to stay away?”

“I forgot a status report, they needed to know I was alive.”

“This one knows.” The villain said, turning their head slightly. “You should go now, pet.”

“I think I should stay.”

“I enjoy being on amicable terms with you. For the sake of staying so, I suggest you leave.” As an afterthought, the villain added, “Please.”

The whitecoat’s cogs were turning rapidly, the villain knew so, the villain hated it.

“I suggest you quell those thoughts, and quickly.” The villain snarled.

“Why are you doing this?” The hero asked, taking a slow step toward, eyes flicking between the whitecoat and the villain’s back.

“I wouldn’t try it, pet.”

“I’m not.”

“That’s a lie.”

The hero took a sharp breath. “Ok. Ok. We’re at a standstill-”

“Your speed, my mind, evenly matched throughout the passage of time. Either that, or you get lucky.” The villain sighed. “How frustrating it is.”

“So what if we just leave each other alone?”

The villain turned, quick and sharp.

“You are serious?” The villain squinted. “You are serious.” Their laugh was a horrible noise, short, taunting. “No, pet. I never fully planned on letting you be.”

“That’s fine.” It was only kind of a lie. “Just leave the rest of them alone.”

A sort of glee shone on the villain’s face. “But now they know me. I can’t quite let them live.”

The hero was slightly desperate at this point.

“Once you told me I was the only one who knew of your telepathy, it was because you took away everyone else’s memories. Do that now.” The hero’s beg was silent, the thought only meant for their head, but the villain still heard it.

The villain’s original plan was derailed, but this one was just as sweet. “Therein lies yet another problem, pet. They know you, and you know me. After each encounter, you’ll go running back to them.”

“I won’t. I won’t tell.”

“Liar.” The villain whispered, smiling.

“Then take me from their memories, too.”

There it was.

“Hero!” The whitecoat protested, their voice turning firm. “Hero, no.”

“You,” the villain rounded on them. “Stay quiet.” They turned back to the hero. “You’re sure that’s what you want?”

With pursed lips, the hero answered. “I have a feeling there wasn’t much of a choice to begin with.”

“Very well.”

The whitecoat felt the invisible hold on them release, but that freedom didn’t last long. The villain was on them, and with a single word, their consciousness faded.

#this sucks #this sucks so hard #I’m so sorry #thank you for the request though #I’m glad you liked the earlier works #hero x villain #villain x hero #heroes and villains #super speed v. telepathy #super speed #telepathy

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quazartranslates · 3 years

Text

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH53

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

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

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Chapter 53: Purgatory Reunion (V) {cw: attempted suicide, religious guilt}

There were too many demons. There were too many demons.

The space by his feet had already been filled with corpses, and the whole lake of fire was floating with the stench of sulfur and demon blood, but it seemed that no matter how he killed them, he couldn’t kill them all.

Ning Zhou watched the steady stream of demons, from the initial tension to the final numbness. He tried every demon with Maria's sword of judgment, and finally… tried himself.

After entering Purgatory, the burning wounds on his abdomen had become more and more painful, lost consciousness, and there was no divine power in the body that had once been filled with holy power to protect him. Then, the evil power had gradually returned to him.

Ning Zhou already knew what it was. For many years, his mother Maria's worried eyes and her awkward words have planted too many questions in his heart. Now, he finally understood.

When he was young, he had once asked her who his father was.

Maria had sat by the bed and watched the sunset, remaining silent for a long time.

He persisted in asking his mother again.

Maria took his little hand and gently answered him, "He was someone who was lost."

"It's a long, long road, and no one knows where the end is. Your father and I met unexpectedly. We walked along the same road, passed many beautiful sights along the way, and left many beautiful memories. We said goodbye briefly at a fork in the road and agreed that we would continue walking. But he got lost... He walked a long way and gradually forgot everything from the past. He gained power that ordinary people could not imagine, but he even forgot his name."

"Did he forget you, too?" the small Ning Zhou asked anxiously.

A faint smile appeared on Maria's pale face: "No, he hasn't forgotten me. He didn't forget me all his life. On the day we met again, he looked at me for a long time and asked me... ‘who are you?’"

Ning Zhou looked at her in confusion and asked, "’Who are you?’ Doesn’t that mean he forgot?"

But he didn't know that a man who had forgotten himself and everything else had found his true love in the vast sea of people. At that moment, no matter what question he asked, it didn't matter.

The fact that he could find this person had already shown that he had never forgotten his love.

　　&&&

In a dark room, a long table with more than a dozen seats was surrounded by people, each of whom silently looked at the magic mirror suspended on the table which displayed this scene of carnage from the bottom of his heart.

"Is it okay to let him kill like this again?" the Witch of Nothingness asked gently, with her eyes closed and her hands folded on her lower abdomen.

The Witch of Desperation, covered in a black robe, looked at the bright red lake of fire in the magic mirror, but there was no magic in her empty eyes: "It doesn't matter. As long as he can fully awaken his original force, it doesn't matter how much of that trash he kills."

"I'm afraid he won't want to. Don't forget, he was originally from the Holy See," the Witch of Nothingness warned.

"Haha, have you forgotten? His Majesty was also very close with the Holy See. To be precise, he and the Holy See’s Holy Nun was the object of his affections. Even when his original force had awakened fully and he forgot his whole family, he was still holding a Canon all day long. But wasn't it him who finally took us into the human world?" the Devil of Evil smiled, not sharing his colleagues’ worry.

The Witch of Resentment held her forehead in one hand: "Please, don't remind me of the days when I studied hard to please His Majesty with the scriptures. I have no interest in the things of the Holy See. I would rather boil my potions."

The Witch of Nothingness smiled faintly. "Have you ever noticed that all the Devil Kings have some abnormal hobbies? When you count them carefully, none of them looks like a normal demon. However, compared with the subordinates of the Devil of Slaughter, we should feel content."

The group of higher demons laughed meaningfully.

To the demons, following a Devil King did not mean that they agreed with that person’s personality, but that they followed the force that that person represented. Just like this group, who had tied their own destiny with the force of destruction, who had known both glory and utter ruin. In the twenty years after the fall of the old Devil, their power had also declined to even less than half of its heyday.

They were too eager to have a new Lord of Destruction and renew destruction’s original force. As for who that person was, they didn't care.

"I heard one thing. Our new Majesty had a lover whom he loves deeply, but he died. It's a pity that the Devil of Fraud killed him. If he was still alive..." The Devil of Evil smiled with interest. "How interesting it would be."

"Why did the Lord of Fraud kill her?" the Witch of Nothingness asked doubtfully.

"God knows. Oh, by the way, he’s a man."

"Isn't His Majesty a follower of the Holy See?" Even the Witch of Resentment was shocked. Those who had been around since the old Lord of Destruction were familiar with the Holy See’s teachings, and they were very clear about the Holy See’s attitude towards same-sex love.

"He was drained of the power of faith and expelled from the Holy See. Otherwise, do you think that with such little stimulation alone he could awaken the Devil’s force sealed in his body? That's the seal left by Maria." The Devil of Evil laughed very exaggeratedly. "Ah, for love, I am willing to abandon the glory of God! ...It is really a romance branded in blood."

"Unfortunately, it seems that this time I can't see the touching love story," the Witch of Resentment sighed faintly.

"Attention, His Majesty is beginning to show the form of a magic dragon. Record the time. It is... 8:47 in the evening. If you’re optimistic, he could be completely demonized within 24 hours. I can't wait." The Devil of Evil looked at the Devil's black body in the lake of fire and the human who had begun to show the Devil's characteristics, and couldn't help but smile with expectation.

"I hope nothing will happen in these twenty-four hours. Contact the Dragon Ant Queen and order that Purgatory be sealed off now, especially in the area around the lake of fire," the Witch of Desperation said. "Don't say it’s in our name... The seal on the Devil of Slaughter is suspected to be loose, other people will naturally associate this with the Devil of Power."

"I’m afraid that the Dragon Ant Queen can't be contacted. Considering the time, she is now busy with 'life events'," said the Devil of Evil.

"Then contact her maid, she still has the authority to deal with this matter," the Witch of Desperation said.

　　&&&

He was already in hell.

Ning Zhou looked at everything around him and suddenly had this thought.

After the crazy battle, there were countless bodies of demons floating in the lake of fire, some of which had been swallowed up by lava, and some of which were rushing towards the lower reaches of the valley with the burning current.

The air seemed to be filled with scorching flames, burning from his mouth to his heart, and even his soul was ignited.

He stood in Purgatory’s lake of fire, inexorably transforming from a man into a devil.

How fragile human will was, that it couldn't prevent a man from dying, or a saint from degenerating into a demon.

Sharp talons grew on his hands, and his skin became cold and rough like a cold-blooded animal. Black scales spread all over his body like a plague, and a pair of bat-like wings grew behind him. He couldn't control the power of destruction. He had lost his human form and turned into a huge magic dragon.

A devil among demons, a Devil King among devils, an evil magic dragon symbolizing destruction. According to legend, the ancient world was destroyed by such a magic dragon, which had woken from chaos, flew while spraying angry flames that spread in all directions, and destroyed the whole world.

This kind of magic dragon had really appeared once in history. Twenty-two years ago, when the Devil of Destruction had led the demons to break through the seal and come to the world of humans. His demon form was just such a magic dragon. He held the law of destruction, but also the madness of destruction, wishing to destroy the world at all costs.

What had been a vague feeling had finally come true. When the force of destruction awakened, he understood everything.

It was ridiculous. Those who fought against the demons eventually became demons. Those who stared long into the abyss finally fell into the abyss. The evil force sleeping deep in his body laughed at him: Your whole life is a joke.

Fate had taken away everything from him: his only relative, his beloved, and now it wanted to destroy his last treasure.

Everything about him as a "human" had ceased to exist. What else could he do? What else could he do for this miserable world? What was the value of his existence?

Immense grief struck his soul, and the desperate black dragon roared and wailed at the sky blocked by rocks in the lake of fire. The force of destruction even tore the rock wall and let the distant light fall into Purgatory.

He looked at the light dazedly, as piously as when he had prayed so many times.

"He will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, He will also provide a way out so that you can endure it.”

But why had fate given him such a cruel temptation? And he had been banished from his homeland; would God still help him and protect him?

Not anymore.

He was doomed to fall to such temptation.

Because God had given up on him.

Like the man who gave him half his blood, he would gradually lose himself to the original force of destruction, forget everything about himself, forget how he had once guarded the world, and finally bring endless pain and despair to this world.

Let it all end here.

Suicide was a sin, but if he lived, he would eventually bring more disasters and misfortunes to this scarred world.

He couldn't end the cruel fate imposed by this world, so at least he could not bring more suffering to this world.

Let him end it with his own hands!

In this lake of fire in Purgatory, holding warm memories, he would put a full stop to his life with this heart that still belonged to mankind.

But at that moment, he heard a voice that was too familiar to be a memory: "Ning Zhou—!!!”

He stopped at the edge of destruction and looked up.

Looked up to see the love of his life, returned to him.

-----

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

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mystical-flute · 3 years

Text

Life Was a Willow and it Bent Right To Your Wind (SFWeekDay 5)

Teenage Swanfire or Family Time

AO3 || FFN

@mysteryandnonstopfun

Emma still couldn’t believe it was over.

Pan’s curse had failed - Storybrooke was the same as it had always been, and, with the exception of Gold, everyone was safe and unharmed.

It had been three weeks, and no more magical nonsense had happened. She was getting antsy - very antsy - that the shoe would drop, but her parents were trying to keep her distracted from such thoughts.

She had a sneaking suspicion that Regina was too, sending Henry over to Neal’s new apartment almost every other day, which made Neal call her and ask if she wanted to hang out with the two of them.

Which she always did, because otherwise she would be a fool to not spend time with her son and her… son’s father.

Where her and Neal stood was anyone’s guess. They had been able to take a rain check on the meeting at Granny’s, and it had gone well. All of these meetings had gone well, although Emma wasn’t sure if it was because of natural chemistry or if both of them were putting on an excellent show for Henry.

They hadn’t been able to get together, just the two of them, since that initial meeting at the diner.

But it was fine. She was happy, Neal was happy, and more importantly, Henry was happy. Henry’s wellbeing was all that mattered to her, and she knew Neal felt the same.

So things were… good. For the first time in years, things in Emma Swan’s life were actually good.

“Any big plans today?” Mary-Margaret asked, leaning against the counter with a smile.

“Henry’s going to be at Neal’s again. He wanted to try out the new Mario game that came out yesterday,” she explained, draining the last of her coffee. “I doubt I’ll be any good at it.”

Mary-Margaret frowned. “I thought you were a teenager at the height of all that video game stuff being really popular. You didn’t get much of a chance to play?”

Emma shrugged. “I would play games once in a while at whatever foster home of the month I was at, and then there was - well, never mind. I haven’t played them at all since then, so I doubt I’d be any good at it. But it makes Henry happy.”

Mary-Margaret absolutely wanted to say something else, but decided against it. “Well, maybe you’ll surprise yourself. Are you going to be home for dinner or should we just eat without you?”

“Nah, we’ll order a pizza or something. You two have a gag-inducing romantic dinner without me,” Emma said, waving her hand.

“Oh, very funny. Like you and Neal haven’t done anything gag-inducing in front of Henry.”

She looked up, startled. “What? Of course we haven’t. I don’t even know what we are, but we haven’t done anything… romantic since Henry was conceived!”

Mary-Margaret raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that? There hasn’t been anything you and Neal have done that might embarrass Henry? Not one tiny thing?”

“Of course not. We’re just friends and we act like friends around Henry. That’s all.”

The look on Mary-Margaret’s face screamed disbelief. “So if I asked Henry the next time I see him, he’d agree that you two don’t look anything like a couple? Or flirt like you did when you were teenagers?”

Emma scowled and chewed the inside of her cheek. That was absurd, wasn’t it?

“Emma, I know you’re scared about getting hurt again, but I think you owe it to yourself to have a second chance with him. I’ve seen the way you act around him. I know how relieved you were when I told you he was alive in Neverland, how your eyes lit up when you agreed to meet him at Granny’s and when you came home…” Mary-Margaret sighed. “It’s like I said before, your walls might keep out pain, but they might also keep out love.”

She traced her finger along the rim of her empty coffee mug. Mary-Margaret was right.

Of course she was. She was Snow White, after all.

Finally, Emma sighed. “You’re right. I’ll… talk to him today.”

Mary-Margaret looked at the clock, her eyes growing wide. “Oh, it’s almost noon.”

“Shit!” Emma cursed, all but throwing the offending coffee mug in the sink. “I gotta go. I’ll be back tonight.”

She didn’t see the knowing smile on Mary-Margaret’s face as the door slammed closed behind her.

“Come on, dad, you gotta steer your racer better. It’s not right that Luigi keeps losing so badly!” Henry laughed as the leaderboard popped up on the screen, showing Neal in a pitiful dead last. “Do you want me to show you?”

“Ah c’mon kid, that was just the warm up round!” Neal protested. “Best five out of seven.”

“How many warm up rounds do you need, Neal?” she questioned with a slow smirk, biting into a slice of pizza and wiping some of the sauce from her lips. “Face it, I think you’re just not good at this game.”

Neal frowned. “Is it fair to say I grew up in a realm without electricity and video games, so I might be a little slow?”

“How long have you been in the Land Without Magic?”

A huff, and Neal slouched back on the couch. "Alright Henry, show me what I'm missing."

Henry grinned, moving to sit next to Neal.

It was a picture perfect sight, a father and son trying to figure out a video game.

It was something they should have had, the three of them together, playing video games and watching terrible movies on Netflix, safe and comfortable.

It… it was something they could have, right? She and Neal and Henry could be the family they should have been. She just needed to take that chance.

And she would.

“Hey Neal,” she murmured after Henry had fallen asleep. To her surprise, Regina had given Henry permission to stay the night. “Can we talk?”

“Uh, sure. Everything okay?” Neal questioned after draping a blanket over Henry.

Normal. Peaceful. Everything they deserved.

“Have you ever thought about… taking a second chance with me? I mean… I know we won’t have Henry full-time since he’s Regina’s legally, but… spending this time together with you and with him… it just reminds me of what we can have, if you - if you want.”

Neal grinned, that wide, schoolboy grin that had swept her off her feet, and took her hands. “You don’t know how good it is to hear you say that…” he murmured, drawing her in for a kiss.

Neither of them heard the snap of Henry’s camera.

#sfweek2021 #swanfire #emma swan #neal cassidy #henry mills #ouat

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soramel · 3 years

Text

Curiosity didn’t kill the cat | jjk ff

[COMPLETE] Part 4

jjkxreader

Prompt: “You’re early,” said the grim reaper with a hint of amusement.

Fantasy au, sageuk au, royalty au, grimreaper!jungkook, reader, romance, slow-burn

Words: 1.9k approx. Part 4/7 Content warning: smut, violence, angst

This is the last part in my Tumblr account. Part 5 to 7 (fin) can be found in my wattpad account

You stayed home the whole morning, staring out the window. You watched the cars passing by the bridge crossing the Han river.

Now you're plopped down on the couch while Jungkook is vacuuming the floor.

"Don't you have work today?" you asked.

Jungkook shook his head in reply. "There's no one on my schedule. I checked."

"Why don't you have a TV here? How do you pass time?" you whined. You might be safer compared to being outside, encountering different souls and human energies, but you thought this kind of boredom could kill too.

You learned last night that you don't tire out like a human does. It's your energy running out, which can be restored by sleep, rest, or eating food offerings for those who passed. However, if you stayed long enough wandering, those wouldn't suffice. Ghosts like Taehyung's assignee and the man in that business district, they feed off from wandering souls like you. Your energy is still of a human because you died in a wrong time, but they could easily get your energy from your form.

Jungkook didn't respond and continued cleaning.

You sighed. You're fully rested, so you can't really go back and sleep the day off.

You jumped at an idea, "How about I visit my funeral?" you didn't really want to. You don't want to see your family and friends being sad because of your passing. Besides, the spirit guide promised you that you could go back to your old life. You just have to wait. And you have a powerful grim reaper protecting you, so you're all good.

He shook his head, and firmly said, "No. It's not safe there. I told you that's a hotspot for starving souls."

"But I have you!" you insisted.

Jungkook turned off the vacuum, placing a hand on his hip, squaring his shoulders. He then said, "Remember when the lady almost got you? What if we encounter five of them? I'm not omnipotent, Y/n. I'd lay my life to protect you, but I don't really die so it's pointless. Once you're out of my grasp, you're on your own."

His warning rendered you speechless. Unconsciously, you huffed in a pout.

Jungkook's expression fell at your reaction, but there's nothing else he could do.

The doorbell rang.

Both of you turned to the sound.

The grim reaper tucked in the vacuum, leaving it to stand, before going to the door.

"Sir Jeon," you heard a wavering man's voice.

"Mr. Choi, what brought you here?" Jungkook queried, his voice tensed. He repeatedly wished for you not to show yourself and he hoped telepathy would work. But of course, your curiosity won. You peeked from the hallway and saw a man in his 30's.

His gaze shifted from Jungkook to yours. His eyes widened in thirst. For a second, the white of his eyes faded.

"Mr. Choi," Jungkook snapped.

The ghost stared back to him, as his eyes went back to normal.

"Sir Jungkook. It's my daughter. She's having a fever and her mother's not yet back from the business trip," the man explained.

"Her nanny didn't show up this morning. She's been alone since last night," he went on, his sweaty hands fidgeting as he asked for help. "Please, help her."

Jungkook stilled for a moment, before responding, "I'm not allowed to make calls in the human world, Mr. Choi. I'm not allowed to interfere on that matter."

Mr. Choi kneeled, pressing his hands together, and begged, "Please, sir. I, I tried to help. I've been trying to possess a human's body but my soul is too weak. I haven't fed for weeks. I couldn't visit a burial without getting killed by a starving ghost. Please, you're all I have."

"Mr. Choi-"

"Her!" he pointed at you.

"She can help."

Mr. Choi looked at you, his eyes pleading.

"Please help my daughter," he asked you directly.

Jungkook backed away from the door, "No," he sternly said. "She's not fit for what you're asking."

The man argued, "She just died! I can feel her energy from here, she could possess anyone easily!"

Then insisted, "Young lady, please. It's not that much. Just bring her to the hospital."

Jungkook stood firm, resolved to kick the man out, "I said no. Go-"

"Jungkook. It's okay. I'll help him," you said to him.

"Y/n," his voice laced with disapproval, while the man bowed repeatedly. "Thank you! Thank you!" he uttered over and over in gratefulness.

When you arrived at the apartment complex, you started looking around for someone to possess. You saw a college student, much like you, walking. Jungkook stopped you before you could take a step.

"Not her. She's not well rested. You'll be stuck in her body if her soul surrendered."

You nodded and tried to look for another. There's another woman, but she's with her child. It seemed like they're waiting for a taxi.

You surveyed the area. There are only cars passing by the highway.

Mr. Choi hesitatingly spoke, "Please hurry, it took me long to get to you,"

He pursed his lips shut when Jungkook sent him a deadly glare.

Clasping your hands together, you decided to go for the woman. You looked at Jungkook for permission, but he's been nothing but adamant.

So, you strolled forward, with much determination.

Upon nearing the lady, you whispered, "I'll be quick, promise," though she couldn't hear you.

You stepped into her shell, her soul resisting. You can feel yours slowly seeping in.

You tightly closed your eyes and soothingly muttered, "I'll be quick. A young girl's alone in the apartment and she's been sick. Please."

You opened your eyes and felt your spirit settled. You stared at the lady's free hand, then you felt a tug.

Her son stared up at you and said, "Mommy, there's the cab," he informed.

You looked at the driver and waved your hand dismissively. You crouched down to the boy's height and held his face.

"Mommy needs to visit a friend's place first. Okay?" you spoke, while trying not to be startled by your new voice.

The boy nodded.

You gave him a reassuring smile which turned to joy when he smiled back. Showing a gap between his teeth.

Holding the boy's hand, you faced Jungkook and Mr. Choi.

Mr. Choi beamed and led the way to his daughter.

You sat beside the hospital bed as you listened to the doctor. "She'll be monitored every four hours. You have nothing to worry about," he smiled at you and to the boy beside you.

"Thank you, doctor. I'll call her mother right away," you informed him.

"Don't mention it. How kind of you to look after your friend's child, Mrs. Kim," he said.

You blinked repeatedly and smiled awkwardly, "Ah, of course."

Then you looked at him as you wait for him to leave.

After an uncomfortable silence, you renewed your smile, "Doc?"

"Ah, yes. Well, then... I have to go. Lots of patients to attend to."

You nodded in reply. You watched him walk away before tripping on his own steps. A chuckle escaped Jungkook's lips, he tried to suppress it to no avail.

By the time you managed to bring the boy and the lady back to their home, the sun was already down. The lamp post flickered as you stepped out of the building. Then a snowflake fell on your nose before it passed through, landing on the pavement.

You reached out your hand to catch the first snow only for it to slip through.

Your lips pulled into a bitter smile. At least, you couldn't feel the cold.

Noticing your feet, you moved forward, one step after another.

If you were alive, the road's roughness would scrunch under your feet, the falling snow crystals would land on your skin then would melt away; if you were alive, you'd see your breath in this unforgivable winter.

It's only been days since, but you couldn't help but become impatient. More than a week of waiting would feel like a year.

"You okay?" Jungkook asked as he walked beside you.

Turning to him, you said, "Could be better,"

He nodded. "Let's find a door,"

You touched his arm to stop him, you feel like walking. At least that way, you'd be able to feel the first snow with your eyes.

"Can we walk instead?" you asked.

He frowned and answered, "You look tired. You almost spent a day in someone's body. It should've drained you. I'd need to ask Yoongi or Taehyung to bring us food."

Taking off your hand from him, you tried your best to hide your disappointment. "Just 5 minutes," you bargained. He paused to think, assessing the situation. Afterwards, he agreed.

"Thanks."

You walked forward, watching the sky. The orange light from the posts sparkled against the falling flakes. You basked in the simple beauty you failed to appreciate.

The glitters on the pavement

The rustling of the road as a car passed by

The ding of the bicycle dashing through, towards you

You stood frozen in shock as the biker permeated. It felt like the gravity engulfed you out of your soul, if that's still possible. You're left with nothing now, this is your form at your purest state.

You wobbled and before hitting the ground, Jungkook pulled you by the elbow. Your chest flushed against his as you looked at his face. His features etched with worry.

It felt familiar.

his hold

his arms,

his eyes,

this scene,

the weather.

Everything.

A déjà vu.

Jungkook felt it too. That was evident on how his concerned frown softened into a gaze of longing and admiration.

He couldn't put a name on his emotions, but it felt unstoppable.

It felt right to close the distance between you.

It felt right to rest his palm against your crimson-painted cheeks.

It felt right to acknowledge the pull.

Your eyes shuttered close as his lips met yours.

Everything felt familiar.

You both knew.

And as if the spell that bound you worn out, you pulled apart from each other. Averting each other's eyes.

Jungkook broke the silence by clearing his throat. He then muttered, "Let's go home. You're tired."

After a while, he found a door by the sidewalk. He jerked it to see if it's open and after confirming, he shut it close again.

He laid his hand out to you, at which you took without protest.

Then you were now in his apartment's hallway.

The rest of the night were spent in silence as he retreated to his room.

"Taehyung brought this for you," Jungkook blurted as he saw you stirring awake.

The space was lit by the morning light and clanking of plates rung through as the two grim reapers prepare on the dining table.

"I heard you had a rough day. I wish I could've brought food earlier, but I had a graveyard shift," Taehyung explained in a sad face.

You waved your hand dismissively, "It's fine. No worries. I just slept it off."

Taehyung's face lit up, he looked at you, smiling, "I got porridge. They put shrimps and eggs on it. First class."

"I also got tangerines. Though we must save two handfuls for Yoongi-hyung. He's on his way here."

The main door banged open at once, startling you.

"Oops, sorry 'bout that. Hi Y/n," Yoongi greeted.

Jungkook placed the last plate on the table before looking up at the eldest, "Yoongi-hyung, come eat with us."

[Part 5 to 7]

#bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jjk fanfic #jkxreader #jjk #jungkook fantasy au #jjk x reader

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realcube · 3 years

Text

rainy girl || kenma kuzome x reader

summary: soulmate au! kenma finally saw his soulmate in his dream but something doesn’t seem right..

songfic! rainy girl by andrew mcmahon and the wilderness

tw// swearing, angst, reader death!, (she/her) reader, unedited lol

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

‘rainy girl, i can’t wait to meet you.’

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

A smile didn’t leave Kenma’s face that whole day, he had finally seen his soulmate; her beautiful (h/c) hair, her (s/c) complexion and the school uniform with a red tie which complemented her gorgeous figure - unfortunately he didn’t get to see her face though.

However, beggars can’t be choosers. He was just happy to see her, after all these years of waiting and being told that boys usually see their soulmate in a dream closer to the beginning of puberty and he’s a lost cause. On his 16th birthday he was even told by his mother to stop hoping for a soulmate dream because it was simply ‘never going to happen’ and she didn’t want him to be disappointed.

Kuroo had his soulmate dream when he was 13 yet he wasn’t too infatuated with his soulmate at the time - unlike most teenage boys - but a few months ago he noticed a resemblance between his soulmate and a Brazilian bikini model and he would not shut up about it. What he didn’t know was that the model was in her 30s and it would be very criminal if she was in fact his soulmate; Kenma was aware of this though, he just didn’t want to be the barer of bad news.

Anyway, more to the point, Kenma grew up around people who had their soulmate dream at a very young age so by the time he was 14, he was convinced that he’d never have a soulmate dream, hence he doesn’t have a soulmate.

So you can imagine the amount of serotonin and relief he felt after he woke up one day and he realised that he did have a true love out there and he wasn’t destined to spent the rest of his life alone. It was as if he finally knew what it felt like to be in love.

Now, he was impatient to meet her - no matter who she was, what she enjoyed, what she dressed like, what her life goals were; Kenma just knew that he’d love her unconditionally.

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

‘i can’t wait to hear your name, sing it to the skies above.’

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

However, there was a problem.

It was common knowledge that you’d meet your soulmate in dream where you are sitting underneath a tree, your soulmate would approach you and you’d learn their name along with their appearance, then you’d wake up.

But in Kenma’s dream, he was falling slowly towards the Earth with her by his side - he didn’t see what she looked like as the air resistance caused her hair to fly in front of her face and he didn’t learn her name either, all she said to him was, “I hate the rain.” in the most calming, soft voice.

Kenma acknowledged it was a weird take on the classic soulmate dream as it seemed like he was falling through as endless sky, there was no rain in sight so he wasn’t sure why she’d mention that. He didn’t get to learn her name either but the comment she made helped Kenma give her an appropriate alias; ‘Rainy girl’, cute, right? He came up with it himself.

(’Rain girl’ was a close second but when he actually gets to meet her and he tells her about the little nickname, he didn’t want her to think that it was after a Yaeji song.)

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

‘Rainy girl, wash away my memory.’

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

Curiosity got the better of him so he borrowed a book from the library about soulmate dreams to investigate the causes and/or reasons why his dream was different to that of others.

And yes, he did try to google it but the people on WikiDreams used big, professional language which he simply did not understand - plus, if his mum sees that he is reading a book, she’ll think he is studying for a change.

Also, going to the library to get a book was a good way to bail of whatever plans Kuroo had for the pair of them. It’s not that Kenma hated Kuroo, it’s just that the rooster-man was uncapable of shutting up about his soulmate and he would always make the most elaborate plan for ‘guy days’ with Kenma, all of which drained Kenma’s social battery so quickly.

Anyway, he skimmed the index page for a chapter heading which best suited his current situation, “Delayed soulmate dream, no soulmate dream, can’t find soulmate, undesirable soulmate, food soulmate, decomposed soulmate..” Kenma read the chapter headings aloud, each situation sounding worse than the last - making him feel lucky that he was just a late-bloomer rather than someone who had to watch their soulmate get devoured by a titan during a dream.

“Ah.” He let out faint hum of success as he found a chapter which accurately described his circumstances, “Falling beside your soulmate.” It was the very last chapter in the book and it was very specific which reassured Kenma slightly as it must mean that lots of people deal with/ dealt with this issue, so it’s not like he is a one-off case.

Kenma flipped to the page listed and began mutter the words as he read because it helped, that’s just what he was used to after doing gaming streams, “A dream in which you are falling beside your soulmate to a differing destination is quite rare - out of 1000 dreamers, only 3 are expected to have a falling dream. Studies show that those unfortunate souls who have this sort of dream have a deceased soulmate they have yet to meet and unless they believe in the afterlife, the experience of falling next to their soulmate will probably be the only opportunity they have to meet each other..”

His words slowly drifted off and as soon as he processed what he had just read, he slammed the book shut. Beads of sweat started building at his forehead, his breath hitched and he actually felt his heart tear apart, “I-” He started, choking on his own words as he gulped, having to swallow the air to convince his lungs to take it in.

“No..she can’t be..” He panted, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes both from sadness and the fact he stopped paying attention to blinking as his mind was focussed on the fact he received information that will probably ruin the rest of his life.

“She can’t be dead. She- she can’t be dead.” He repeated, pressing the book closed as if there were demons in between the pages - which was hardly accurate as he feared the news that lay inked onto the paper more than he’d ever fear any demon.

“I loved-” He cut himself off, allowing himself to toss his head back in despair and let the stream of tear flow from his eyes, down his cheek and onto his red hoodie which he bought a week ago, along with 3 other hoodies which he got with the intention of letting you wear them whenever he met you in real life.

“-you too much.” he whispered to himself, aggressively throwing the book across his room before going to bury his head into his pillow to muffle his wails. The worst part wasn’t the fact he was grieving the death of someone he never even met - it was that he didn’t even get to say goodbye.

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

‘swimming through infinity, for you will be my love.’

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

If you asked Kenma year ago if it was possible to love and cry over someone you haven’t even met, he’d ask you to define ‘love’.

Now, he was laying on his bed, eyes damp and tear-stained while desperately trying to read over the last chapter of his book over and over again in hopes that perhaps he missed something and his dream didn’t mean what he thought it meant.

It was no use though, the book kept telling him that his soulmate was dead but he knew that simply could not be the case.

He resorted to the internet again but that far from helpful too; he couldn’t comprehend what most of the articles were on about and as for the studies, they just reinforced the idea that his soulmate was gone. For good.

At this point, all Kenma could think of doing was sleep. Sleep and hope he’ll wake up and realise that this was all just one, big, horrible nightmare. His soulmate will be laying next to him - alive and well - reassuring him that it was just a nightmare and nothing but imagination.

His closed the book, placing it on his bedside table and attempting to pull his blanket over him but it got caught under the mattress so it didn’t pass his ankles. He was way too tired to fix it so he simply glanced at his Switch, wondering whether or not he could be bother to do the chores still pending on his Animal Crossing Island like he usually did before bed.

Today though, a wave of sleep washed over him before he could even make a decision.

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

‘sometimes when i’m falling in my dreams, i can feel you falling next to me.’

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

Kenma’s eyes flew open upon the familiar sensation of the wind lacing through his hair as he fell through the endless sky, his back towards his final destination but he simply couldn’t bring himself to turn around because for now, he wanted to enjoy the sight of the clear blue sky and bask in the feeling of gracefully falling to his doom.

“Kenma!”

His basking was cut short as he heard his name called from right beside him, so he whipped his head around to see who it was and of course, it was none other than the Rainy girl; his soulmate.

She was also facing him this time and her hair was tied up into a cute, messy bun so he could clearly see all the facial features he once missed out on. Her shiny (e/c) eyes which both had a slightly red hue to them, her flattering eyebrows and her tinted pink lips.

“Wh-who are you?” Kenma stuttered out due to his peace of mind suddenly being ruined not only due to the fact he generally got nervous when talking to girls but also since this girl in particular was his allegedly dead soulmate.

“(y/n) (l/n). I was supposed to be your soulmate but I think you already know why that can’t happen.” Her voice was soft, almost inaudible compared to the loud sound of air resistance burning Kenma’s ear - but he still understood what she said and what she most likely meant by it and the harsh reality made Kenma’s heart sink.

“Oh, yeah.” Kenma mumbled, biting his lip and keeping his voice low to resist the possibility of him bursting out into tears right in front of you - but apparently he wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding it as you immediately reassured him, “You can cry if you want, anybody would be heartbroken if they were in your shoes.”

Kenma shook his head rapidly, unable to fight the tears which know spilled from his eyes, the ones which weren’t glued to his face being left in the path above him. “What-” He sniffled, turning completely on his side to look at you, thus he noticed the single tears resting on your cheek. “What happened to you?”

You looked Kenma dead in the eye, admiring his golden irises as you seemed to find safety in them - the scary part being that it might just be your last chance to do so. “Oh, nothing- well, I mean, it was kinda my fault; never walk home on your own at midnight in the rain, I guess.” You stumbled over your words, eyes widening at you remembered the event.

Kenma’s blinked rapidly, as curious as he was, the sight of you being saddened from talking about it made him realise that he probably shouldn’t pry. “I am so sorry.” He muttered, averting his gaze back to the sky. “So- will I really never get to see you again?” He frowned at the thought, he wasn’t sure how he was able to become so emotionally attached to someone he had only seen twice since he was barely able to chat with his classmates whom he has known for years. But with you, the words seemed to just pour from him mouth - as if he subconsciously knew that he was free of judgement, no matter what he said; you were his soulmate, after all.

You giggled, the sweet sound which left your mouth being something that Kenma realised he’d never forget. “Well, yes, you won’t see me again for a while.” You began, your attitude clearly improved from a few seconds ago as you now wore a kind smile on your tear stained face. “But I promise you, I’ll still be with you - that is, if you want me to.”

Kenma’s eyes lit up at your suggestion, at this point he didn’t care if he was with you in the physical world or just in spirit, he’d do anything just to be with you. “C-could you do that?” He asked, his heart skipping a beat as your soft hand wiped a tear from his cheek, slowly leaning into your tender touch.

“Of course, anything for you, Kenma. Just please, don’t be sad for too long - I want you to live your life to the fullest! Could you do that?” You hummed, not sure if you were asking for too much as perhaps he now thinks that you were trying to vicariously live through him but that was not the case. Your intentions were just that you didn’t want Kenma to die was as many regrets as you - it was more like advice than a demand but your worried that maybe you didn’t communicate that clearly enough.

“Sure.” Kenma replied, the simplicity of the answer bringing you great relief. “I’ll try--what’s happening?” He tried to add to his previous statement until the speed at which he was falling slowed down until he had reached a complete halt mid-air. Fortunately, it appeared as though you had done the same. “I don’t think this is how gravity works.” Despite the abnormal nature of his current situation which piqued his curiosity, he still couldn’t bring himself to look down.

You sighed, tugging down the skirt of your school uniform as you tossed your head back in exasperation, “I think you are waking up.” You turned to look at your soulmate one last time, shooting him another warm smile, “This is somewhat of a goodbye, but not really. I’ll always be there if you need me, Kenma.”

Kenma wasn’t sure how that would work just yet, but your charm made him believe wholeheartedly in every word you said. “Thank you, (Y/N).” A grin made it’s way onto his face, it was nice to know a part of you will always be with him. And although was presumably all occurring in his headspace, this encounter will is definitely not something he’ll let his mind forget.

He slowly began to feel more light-headed and the hand which was resting on his cheek began to lose it’s density along with (Y/N)’s whole figure. Kenma knew he had to do/say something quickly but he had so much still left to ask yet so little time, hence he just blurted out the first thing that came to mind and probably the most important statement he could make, “I love you, (Y/N).” The word felt weird rolling off his tongue so smoothly and what was even weirder is that he meant it.

“I love you too, Kenma.”

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

‘i guess we’re going everywhere together, rainy girl.’

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

Kenma thought as he woke of from the best nap of his life.

“Oh, wait.” He muttered to himself as he looked at the time displayed on his LOZ clock sat on his beside table. It was 6 in the morning, probably the earliest he has ever woken up before.

“I guess there is no harm in getting changed then.” He spoke, picking up an outfit on the way to his bathroom to have a shower. Talking to himself was an embarrassing habit he had developed after doing so many streams and he’s been trying to force himself to stop but now that he knew that you were with him, he felt less ashamed as it was like he was talking to you.

He halted in his tracks as he got to the door of his en suite, her words suddenly ringing in his head as he thought out his plan for the weekend; which would usually consist of: gaming, a livestream, binge eating or no eating, depression naps, watching TV, avoiding people at all costs and procrastinating homework.

“Live my life to the fullest?” He repeated to him, knowing full well what she meant by that but without a single clue where to start - he was sure that something in his daily routine would have to change though as at the moment, even he was aware that he was barely living. If (Y/N) saw his daily routine, she would - understandably - be disappointed.

“If I were to die tomorrow, what would I regret not doing?” He asked himself in attempt to get the ball rolling with ideas for what to do today. He hummed in thought as he tried to imagine his mindset if he were deceased. As he thought, he realised that there was quite a few things he would’ve missed out on if he died tomorrow but one of them was arguably more important than the rest.

He strolled over to his bedside table, unplugging the charger and picking it up, immediately opening IMessage to send Kuroo a text.

Kenma sighed, running a hand through his hair and turning on his heels to go and take a shower, expecting to be able to get changed before he getting a response from Kuroo but surprisingly enough, as soon as Kenma turned around, he heard his phone vibrate behind him.

Grabbing his phone, he clicked the notification and of course, it was from Kuroo. After typing in his password, he read the message he had just received.

Kenma smiled, which was weird because usually when Kuroo texted him the last thing he wanted to do was smile. But now, (Y/N) gave him a whole new outlook on life in a few minutes. Now, he actually wanted to enjoy the company of the people that made him happy because if anything, (Y/N) helped him realised that life is too short; also, that he shouldn’t walk home alone in the rain at midnight.

#haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #haikyū!!#hq fluff #hq x you #kenma x y/n #kenma scenario #kenma imagine #kenma x reader #kenma fluff #kenma angst #kenma kozume #hq kenma

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hankwritten · 3 years

Text

The Weight of Other People’s Thoughts

Demoman/Soldier, 2k

Request for @lilythedragon05, Scotland

It was a bad idea to follow that tugging cord at the center of his being, the one that called him to Ullapool, and he never would have dared to entertain it if he knew it would have brought him here.

Jane sat by the ocean, stone’s throw from the town, but his distasteful frown kept his eyes locked firmly ahead instead of gazing dubiously at it. What had he been thinking? Coming to Ullapool had only make him feel worse, not better, a smirch against Tavish’s memory if there ever was one. Rubbing in Tavish’s face that he’d never go home again—and here Jane was, free to frolic across the whole damn planet, even if it took him to stupid countries ending in ‘land’.

He leaned further over his knees, barely feeling the sea breeze as he thought about his dead friend.

His murdered friend, he reminded himself. Murdered by someone who he thought he could trust, who now had to carry that guilt with him for the rest of his life.

Everywhere Jane looked it reminded him of Tavish. Maybe that’s why he’d come: self-flagellation. Appropriate punishment. Or maybe he was so desperate not to forget, he’d take the pain that came with remembering. Torturing himself truly, since he could look on the hills and surrounding coast that he had once only known through enthusiastic descriptions, see for himself the places where a young Tavish had played with dummy-grenades. He could imagine him talking to the local shopkeeps. He could practically see him walking up this very path, groceries in one hand, a newspaper filled with fried fish in the other as he took a large bite out of it-

Wait.

Tavish stopped dead, his face enveloped in utter shock. Still mid-chew, he said, “Jdra-ne?”

Jane leapt to his feet. “Apparition!” He pointed an accusing finger at the offending spirit. “Do not think for a second I will be cowed into repentance by the spectral manifestation of my guilt!”

Tavish nearly choked as he tried to swallow his bite of fish. “I…what?”

“Ghosts serve no purpose on my journey to recovery,” Jane continued. “Not even ones that look like my dead friend! Be gone creature of the other world!”

“What I- I’m not bloody dead.”

Jane squinted at him. He definitely didn’t look dead, totally opaque, no fettered chains representing his sins in life and his guilt over failing to help his fellow Man.

“…Are you sure?” Jane pressed.

“You’d think someone would know if they were dead,” Tavish grumbled poignantly, now glaring at Jane for some reason.

“I killed you though. It was-” -pickaxe right through the sternum, crushing, all the red bits coming out when they should have been in- “That was definitely fatal.”

“Aye, was, but I managed to limp my was back into Respawn range. Took a better part of an hour, but I made it.”

There was something odd to Tavish’s voice, something he wasn’t saying, but the realization that he might actually-seriously-really be alive was starting to set in and Jane was too afraid to believe it.

He took a step closer, past the bench he’d been enjoying his solitude at and completing a full circle around the Demoman. Tavish’s head followed him all the while, up until Jane came to a stop in front of him. “…Promise you are not a ghost?”

“I’m not a ghost,” Tavish said, as convincingly honest as he’d always been. Not that his acting skills hadn’t covered for his mendacity before-

-no, no that was a trick, it all turned out to be a lie a damn lie-

“Fine then. You’re not.” Though Jane would keep his eyes peeled for phantasmal anyway. “What the hell are you doing here then?”

“I live here,” Tavish huffed. “Gravel Wars are over, wasn’t going to spend the rest of my years in some blighted desert. Better question is what are you doing here, yank?”

Crap. Well, maybe a half-truth would suffice. “You always talked so much about Scotland I thought…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”

Tavish stood there, one hand still clasped around his groceries. The moment dragged on, vast seas of unsaid things between them, of regrets still festering, to which he ended with, “would you like me to show you around?”

Jane looked down, trying not to stare at his shoes but instead at the foreign soil around them. “…Sure. Why not.”

“Everything is incredibly vertical,” Jane complained as they climbed up yet another hill Tavish insisted was part of the journey.

“Aye, that’s why they call it the Highlands, BLU.”

Jane hated how fucking smug he sounded. Hated, and missed it all the same, missed how this bastard could set a fire in his gut just with one of his damn smiles.

“And there she is,” the Demoman said proudly as the crested the final ridge.

“Damn. Really went to crap in the last couple centuries.”

“Oi, don’t point fingers at me! I’ve only been around for forty of those.”

DeGroot Keep was shriveled and hunchbacked since Jane had last seen it, folding under its own legacy as ages had eaten the tallest spires first and chewed its way down to the cob. Still, he could just make out the choke points, the parapets, the places he used to go charging into with his mêlée weapon held high—all sanded down by the years, the vaguest memories of control points where a portal in time had briefly allowed Jane to witness their existence.

“So what,” he asked, following Tavish into the slight dip in the Highlands where the Keep nestled, “you live in here like some sort of anti-Italian?”

“An anti- what now?”

“Anti-Italians! Despises sun, allergic to garlic, doesn’t show up in mirrors, no sex life. Basic literary reference, RED.”

Tavish rolled his eye. “No, I’m not squatting in the dilapidated castle. Got a perfectly nice home down in the village, I just happen to have inherited this along with…all the other crap.” He waved his hand. “I’ve considered shelling out to having it restored but…dunno. Seeing it go from its heyday to this makes me think that in another couple hundred years it’ll just fall apart again.”

He sat on a piece of tumbled rock, one that used to hang over the Keep’s gate, a bright and shining keystone now used as a stool. Jane joined him.

“Don’t get much of this at home, do you? Old crap. Yer country’s still a wee babe you know, nothing’s even falling apart yet.”

“Incorrect!” Jane amended. “There are plenty of old things in America!”

“For last time lad, Thomas Edison wasn’t immortal, and he didn’t be build a second Shangri-La under Pennsylvania Avenue.”

“Your statements reveal both your ignorance and your compunction, but I was actually talking about mounds.”

“Mounds,” Tavish repeated dubiously.

“Yes! Mounds! Fourteen hundred years ago Americans were building ceremonial mounds in order to track celestial events! They look like animals from the top, lynx, bears, fish, all that crap. I used to walk next to this bird one every day on the way to school.”

Tavish blinked at him, tilting his head. “No offense Jane, but including Native people usually isn’t in your worldview. Where’d you even learn all ‘o that?”

“My mother taught me, so think insinuating more cyclops—lest you show disrespect against her memory and I am forced to take out your other socket!”

Tavish raised his hands defensively, but there was a smile creeping at the corner. “Alright, alright, I get ye. A Mum’s honor is a serious thing.”

“Hm. Good.” Jane glanced ahead, suddenly afraid of lapsing back into silence, as though Tavish would start to slip away from him if they did. “How is your mother?”

“Ah…she passed some years back.”

“…I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright.” Tavish paused. “I still see her sometimes.”

“Metaphorically or…?”

Tavish glanced at him, but then away just a quickly, as though frightened of what he might see. “I’d rather not talk about it, if that’s alright with you.” Instead, he stared ahead, the sun setting between its cradle within the mountains. “Heh. At least there’s something that’s the same no matter where you go. Always a sunset.”

“Guess so.”

Still, Jane found he liked this one better than the ones back home. At least, better than all the ones he’d seen before he’d met Tavish.

The next day was spent in the village, and Jane couldn’t help but yearn for more of Tavish’s time, more of his attention. His friend. His friend who was still alive. Tavish had a kind word for every person they passed, all of whom didn’t seem to notice Jane at all, simply starting up a conversation with their fellow local and submitting to the rhythm of the morning. Breakfast was some sort of potato scone, but Jane wasn’t hungry, so he just walked beside Tavish as the other man ate. They found themselves at the same bench where they’d first run into each other.

“So,” Tavish asked. “Ullapool everything you thought it would be?”

“Hm. It’s…nice. It is obviously not perfect for geographical reasons entirely outside of its control, but. I understand how it made you the man you are.”

“Me? Nah.” Tavish wiped off his mouth with his sleeve. “I made myself like this.”

Again, he wouldn’t look at Jane, wouldn’t say what they were both thinking. That things had gone wrong, that they had both fucked up. One of them more than the other, but Jane had found him again, and maybe they could still figure something out, still have time to unearth all that they had deemed too dangerous and buried in the sand.

Jane reached forward, and put his hand over where Tavish’s was resting on the bench.

And watched it pass straight through.

Jane sprang away. “I knew it! I knew you were a ghost!”

Likewise, Tavish stood up sharply. “I am not. I bloody told you I was’t.”

“Liar! I will not be swayed by any more perjury from your ethereal mouth!”

“I’m not lying!” Tavish snarled at him, his eye dark and narrowed, burning hotter than the words would imply. “I never lied. I never wanted any of-”

“Blasphemy!”

“Would you just listen for-!”

“You cannot guilt me apparition! For I know that-”

“Shut up! Just fucking shut up!” Tavish’s fist closed around the neck of his scrumpy bottle, half drained before noon, and threw it full force at Jane’s head.

Jane raised an arm to block the incoming blow, but the impact never arrived. A second ticked by, then two, then three, and slowly he lowered his forearm to reveal the panting Demoman behind it, shoulders heaving and an inscrutable expression tearing across his features.

“How’s that for the truth you bleeding idiot,” he said.

Jane looked to Tavish, then rotated his neck slowly, staring at the bottle that had landed in the grass behind him. He blinked, willing what he was looking at to make sense, to suddenly disappear and go back to where things were a second ago. To believe he hadn’t seen that bottle connected with his own nose.

There was something he didn’t want to do, but he did it anyway, turning his gaze forward inch by agonizing inch, staring down at his own hands. Fully taking how translucent they were.

The moment shattered, Tavish tore his eye away. “Fuck. Fuck I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve…”

Jane was still looking at his hands. There was panic, deep and overwhelming rising within him, but there was no raised pulse to accompany it, no sweat on the back of his neck.

He lifted his chin to Tavish. “What? I don’t…”

“I didn’t die,” Tavish said thickly. “You did. I killed you and I walked off and you just bled out for who knows how long and-”

-the pickaxe but also a sword, just as deadly buried two feet into his chest and the man above him trying to shove it in a few extra inches, strangled screaming as it pushed deeper-

Jane hadn’t been paying attention to the last half of Tavish’s muttered confession. The Demoman was crying now, pawing furiously at his one lone eye as stared out valley below them, looking anywhere but at Jane as his sclera turned red.

“I’m sorry,” he sputtered. “Christ Jane I’m so fucking sorry. If you came to haunt me or whatever I just- I just want you to know that you can’t hate me more than I hate myself. That it’s been killing me every day since.”

He collapsed on the bench, curling away from Jane as he buried his face in his hands.

It could have been some sort of trick. A ghost bottle or…no Jane wouldn’t even try. He attempted to remember what flight he had come in on but couldn’t. He grasped for how many years since the Gravel Wars had ended, and couldn’t find the answer.

Jane was a ghost, yet everything still hurt as much as it had when he had lived. Immaterial, and he still so badly wanted to touch Tavish’s hand.

He sat on the bench next to him. “I didn’t come to make you feel bad, Tavish.”

“Then why did you come?” It sounded like it was meant to be venomous, but instead it only sounded empty—empty and wet with tears, like a plastic bag trampled into a puddle.

Jane looked down at his hands. His useless, ghost hands that he could still knit together. “I…I wanted to see you,” he said truthfully. “I missed you.”

Tavish looked at him, bleary-eyed. He whispered, “I missed you too. So damn much.”

“Whatever I was doing before, I missed you enough to come here. To someplace I thought you would be.”

A panicked jolt crossed Tavish’s face. “You’re not leaving, are you?” The same man who a moment ago thought Jane had come to smother him with guilt was despondent at the idea that Jane might go after all, that he wouldn’t get a chance to hurt himself with his own regret anymore.

“No, no not yet,” Jane said. He tried his best to wrap and arm around Tavish’s shoulder. The mortal shivered where their skin met.

“Okay,” Tavish said quietly. “Okay. Good. Thank you. I don’t think I can…When I saw you sitting up here I couldn’t believe it could be fore something good. That the only reason you’d want to haunt me would be because you hated me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

It was true. Even though he remembered now, remember lying there, thinking how they’d killed each other, Jane had only ever hated the man who’d believed the TV’s lies.

“I really did come because I was thinking of you. Missing you.” Jane paused. “Today was fun. I’m sure you have a lot of other places to show me, right private?”

“…Sure. Sure whatever you want.” Tavish wiped at his nose. “I’m sorry Jane.”

“It’s alright Tavish.” He held his head in the crook of Tavish’s neck. “I’m sorry too.”

#demosolly #boots n bombs #tf2 fanfiction

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anightflower · 3 years

Text

Come and Find Me

Chapter Two: Paint It Black

Hello Loves! Just to let everyone know, my chapters go from flashbacks to present day! Thank you all for sticking with me and I am sorry this chapter is posted a bit late!

Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Gore, violence, swearing

Read Chapter One Here

He had spent several hours outside your window, trying to figure out the next phase of his plan. But once the Doctor had arrived and swept you into his arms, he had decided to go home. Not back to his apartment, that was the place he resided. His home was a place nobody could know about.

It was a place for only him and his mentor Drew.

He walked into the kitchen to find Drew cleaning up his knives. “Hey little brother, out with your girl again?” Drew asked with a mischievous smile.

Little brother was Drew’s nickname for the boy, they weren’t blood-related, but being 7 years younger than Drew, he had taken the boy under his wing.

“Yeah, until her stupid fucking doctor came.” the boy replied.

“Don’t worry about the Doctor, your time will come.” Drew reassured. “Come, sit, I just finished up making dinner.”

The boy sat down, pushing aside Drew’s papers so he had space to eat.

“Ah, ah,ah, you’re going to want to look at those. Those papers contain all the fun things you need to know. I’m not teaching you all of this for nothing huh?” Drew smiles, placing the papers back in front of the boy, alongside a bowl of stew.

“Do you really think this will work?” The boy asked, glancing over Drew’s explicitly written notes.

“Don’t worry little brother, this whole thing is trial and error.” Drew reassured. “Don’t be intimidated I’ve had this whole thing planned for a while and she won’t be the first, she can be our finale-” Drew was interrupted by a scream. He rolled his eyes. “Goddamnit, this bitch just never shuts up. I wanted to surprise you with her, but now she spoiled it.”

The boy gave Drew a curious look. Drew chuckled. “Come on little brother I will show you.” Drew led the boy down to their basement. “After she’s gone, I’ll soundproof the basement better. I just needed an idea of how loud these whores will scream.”

The color drained from the boy’s face as his gaze fell on the woman. She was tied to Drew’s metal table, she looked like one of the frogs that the Boy had to set up for dissection for Professor Irving’s class, except she was very much alive, and slightly bloodied.

“Meet trial number one little brother, she looks quite like your girl huh? I think all of em’ should just so you can be prepared for your finale with her.” Drew turned to the Boy. “Surprise.”

“How long has she been missing?” the Boy asked, panicked. How could Drew not warn him? “Relax, like I said she’s trial one. Just a corner whore, no one will even notice she is gone. The next one will be the real challenge, I want to find one exactly like your girl and I already found her, this one we will just pump and dump. Did you get those chemicals from your professor like I asked?”

The Boy nodded “It all in my backpack.” The Boy couldn’t drag his eyes away from the girl on the table. Yes she had your hair and eye color, but she was a hideous thing compared to you. A mere whore could never compare to you. “If she’s a whore I don’t want to touch her. I’ll try the next one.”

Drew huffed. “Fine, you only have to watch this time virgin boy. But next time, I expect you to be hands on. I’m not doing all this work for nothing.”

The Boy’s face was emotionless the whole time he watched Drew, even when the blood spurted, even when the girl looked at him, pleading for help. Even when she stopped breathing and the chemicals he brought were used to melt her flesh.

The Boy felt nothing.

________________________________________________________________

There was an extra flounce to your step as you made your way to your favorite cafe. Maybe it was because you had successfully hired a few new employees to help your company flourish, maybe it was because one of them had already settled a new deal in Ohio, or maybe it was because you knew Spencer was coming back from a case today.

Hell, you had just had a fantastic day and you needed to update Ava and grab your favorite mocha latte to top it off. And maybe it was your 4th coffee of the day, but so what?

Your face lit up even more when you saw Ava. “Hello my darling best friend.” You said causing Ava to grin.

“Hey there babe, what’s got you so preppy today?” Ava asked.

“Well, let’s see; I hired 3 new employees who already are fantastic, one of which already booked us a design job in Ohio. Oh and my superhero hot boyfriend is coming home from a case tonight.” You grinned.

Ava rolled her eyes. “I still can’t believe you told him I call him that. I wanted to dissolve into the floor and simultaneously kick your ass.” She laughed. “As for the new employees, are any of them hot? Single? Oh and Ohio is good I guess.”

You giggled. “Well Thomas is incredibly handsome, but I am afraid his soon to be husband might want to have a word with you if you try anything. As for the other two, Aiyla and May, I think you’ll find them stunning and single.”

Ava wiggled her eyebrows. “Don’t tempt me girl, you know I swing both ways. Anyway, grab a seat, I’ll grab your coffee and bring it out to you. I get off early today so we can actually talk to each other rather than me hopping back and forth between the counter. James gets to hold down the fort with Emma and the newbie Jane today.”

“Well, maybe Jane will help him get out of his shell.” You hoped. Ava shrugged.

“Maybe, anyway, Ohio?” Ava questioned.

“Oh! Yes. My new minions are sketching our designs as we speak. The company is called Ohio technological, a very original name yes-” You said as Ava snorted. “But they’re trying to create an office space like Google, however I am going to one up that and add my own spin to it. Also your girl has a fantastic budget from this company and I am being paid bank!” You squealed.

Ava squealed with you, grabbing your hands and squeezing them tight. “(Y/N) that’s fantastic! I am so proud of you girl, you’ve been working so hard on this and I am so glad it’s all working out.”

“There is one downside though.” You said with a sigh. “I have to get my plans to them by next week and once they approve of them, I have to head to Ohio for three weeks. After that I will just have Thomas overlook the project and tie up any loose ends. Either him or I will have to fly down and check in on the progress every couple weeks until then.”

“Could be worse though.” Ava shrugged.

“That’s true, but Spencer and I have been dating for almost 3 months and half the time we can’t see each other. I’m worried that the distance will ruin us.” You confessed.

Ava's face went completely serious and she grabbed your arm gently. “(Y/N, I have never seen a boy more in love with you. You have never seemed happier in your life. You two will make it work I promise. You’re both so in love it makes me sick.” You snorted out a laugh and Ava smirked.

“Like I said, if he has a brother-”

“AVA.” You groaned.

_______________________________________________________________

The boy burst through the door, startling Drew.

“Yo, what the fuck man?” Drew hissed.

“She’s leaving. Fuck, fuck, fuck Drew. She’s leaving.” The Boy slammed the door shut, he leaned against it and slid down, hiding his face in his hands.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey little bro, take a breath, what happened?” Drew came over and pushed the boy’s hands away from his face.

“She’s leaving me Drew. For three weeks! She’s going to Ohio for THREE WEEKS. 21 days, almost a month! I won’t see her and when I do she will probably be with that goddamn doctor! What do I do?” The boy cried.

“That fucking whore, it’s like she knows she’s making you suffer. She’s probably reveling in it. Don’t worry. While she’s gone, we will perfect our craft and get you ready. Then when she comes back you’ll strike.”

Drew reassured the Boy, pulling him in for a hug.The Boy pulled away, dragging an arm across his tearful eyes.

“You promise?”

“I swear it.” Drew growled.

________________________________________________________________

Present Day

“Garcia what did you find?” Reid asked, pleading that it would be a reliable lead.

“Something that you won’t really like Reid.” Garcia said seriously, her usually bouncy personality was flat. “Something about your gift irked me, I couldn’t put my finger on it at first, but then I remembered; the Curtis case.”

Spencer’s heart fell into his stomach. The Curtis case had happened a few months after Spencer had started dating you. It had happened right here in Quantico, which terrified Spencer, especially since you fell perfectly under the unsubs victimology; 20-30 year old females with (Y/C/H) and (Y/E/C), successful middle class women who lived alone for one reason or another. You had luckily been out of town for a business trip at the time, working on an office design for a company in Ohio.

Spencer remembered a phone call he had with you one night during the case. He had called you after finding yet another dead victim, raped and torn to pieces, whore scribbled all over their wall in their blood. It had made him sick, because all he could picture was you in their place.

It was late when he called you, but he had just needed to hear your voice and know you were okay. “Hi baby, are you alright?” Your voice was sleepy, but concerned, you had kept up with the news and had heard about the horrible murders going on while you were gone.

“Not really, but I just needed to hear your voice. There’s a sick selfish part of me that is so glad that you aren’t here (Y/N). All of these girls look so much like you-” Spencer paused, you could hear the tears in his voice. “I just am so glad you are safe, I don’t think I could focus as well on this case if I knew you could possibly be in danger.”

“Aw Spencer, I am so sorry baby. You aren’t sick or selfish for wanting me to be safe, everyone focuses on the safety of those they love, it’s only human. I know you are going to catch this guy, you are the most brilliant man and agent I have ever met. Just don’t tell your team I said that, I don’t want a bad reputation before they even meet me.” You teased, trying to lighten his dark mood.

It had worked slightly as you heard him let out a small laugh followed by a sniffle. “Listen Spence, I can stay here a bit longer if it will help you focus, but when I come home I am taking self-defense classes and such. I want you to have a sane mind knowing that your girlfriend actually can handle herself. I honestly think it will help me keep sane too, after hearing everything about this case.”

Spencer paused and thought for a second, part of him wanted you as far away as possible, while the other part just wanted you in his arms. “I appreciate you considering me, but I want the ultimate decision to be made by you Princess, I trust your judgement and I don’t want you living your life based on my fear.”

You breath caught in your throat at the sentiment. “I love you Spencer Reid.”

“I love you more (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” A true smile beamed across his face, you guys had never said that to one another before and it meant just as much over the phone as it would in person.

Spencer flashed back to the present. “Andrew Curtis is in jail right now with three life sentences, how could this have anything to do with his case?”

Garcia cringed a bit, “His calling card.” The words hit Spencer like a ton of bricks, how could he have not seen it before?

The gift box, the red bow, the eyes scratched out of the picture, that was exactly what Curtis had sent to his victims before they were attacked by him. Most of the women had thought it was a prank, a way to scare them into submission, they were incredibly wrong.

“So what could it be, a copycat?” Emily asked.

“That is a possibility, they are using the exact same delivery company Andrew Curtis used, I found this on the security footage.” Garcia pulled up an image of a man wearing a uniform; it was a hideous orange color with the words “Swiftly Delivered” on it, khaki shorts, and white tennis shoes.

“You think the company would have shut down or at least redesigned their hideous uniform after all the association with Curtis.” Emily mumbled.

“Well, I think in this case it’s lucky they didn’t, that way we could easily find the connection.” JJ said.

“How could something like that have gotten cleared by security?” Rossi wondered aloud. “You think someone would have possibly recognized it, the case is still pretty fresh.”

“Well, the box had no threat, no weapons, they must have just scanned it and sent it through. Alyssa was the one who brought it up with the rest of the mail. She said nothing seemed off about it when she brought it up, she just thought it was someone who was sweet on our pretty boy.” Morgan explained.

“Everyone is just so invested in my love life that we miss obvious clues.” Spencer growled frustrated.

“Well, at least we have a lead.” Hotch interrupted. “JJ, Morgan, I need you guys to head over to Swiftly Delivered. Ask them about their past customers and see if they can remember our unsub. Emily, you and Reid head over to (Y/N)’s apartment and see if you can find anything. Rossi and I are going over to talk to Curtis.”

“Hotch, I need to talk to Curtis.” Reid protested. “If he knows anything about (Y/N)-”

“No Reid. You know (Y/N)’s apartment better than anyone. You will notice if anything is wrong.” Hotch explained sternly.

“Hotch-” Reid argued.

“No. I don’t trust Curtis, he seemed too interested during his original case. If he knows something, I can’t have him getting under your skin. Reid’s head fell in defeat. “But-” Reid’s head shot back up. “If you guys finish before us. Meet us at the prison.” Hotch ordered.

Hope filled Reid’s eyes.

TAGLIST

@andiebeaword @haylaansmi @parkastoria @possessedjoker @amronsparty @generaltheoristexpert @sierraraeck @coniumalces @tamedbyafox @anotherr-fine-mess @adoregin @rainsong01 @canyonnmoonn @mggshoe @boxofsparklingmuses @richardpapensmuse @deanlenaz @rainsong01 @goldentournesol @annesauriol @itsametaphorbriansblog @secretpickleprofessordean @shameleswhorehourstm @stepsofthefbi @iifloweringnightsii

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #come and find me #anightflowerwrites

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no-heart-no-soul-t · 3 years

Text

Black Rose

Pairing: ATEEZ dragon!San x Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, love, IDK Warnings: mentions of stabbing and torture (nothing vivid tho)

Words: 3 000+

It was dangerous to go to Choi clan’s territory unannounced. But Jung Wooyoung didn’t care since it was an emergency. Wooyoung and his wife, Ji Eun, were passing by in a blur, missing all the traps the forest held. When they finally got to the gate, Wooyoung got shot by an arrow, he looked up and saw San standing on the tower. “That’s how you welcome an old friend?” Wooyoung laughed and took out arrow from his shoulder without a flinch, Ji Eun looking at him worriedly. “You shouldn’t come unannounced . Come in.” San answered with his cold voice and disappeared. Wooyoung and Ji Eun were taken to the main hall where San was sitting on a throne in front of them. “Jade, take Lady Jung to the graden,” San said without looking at anyone, his stare solely on his black sword. “Yes, Young Master,” Jade said and bowed, taking Ji Eun by her hand softly. “So, what is the hurry Wooyoung?” San still didn’t spare a glance at him, cleaning his sword.

“San, clan of Frozen Flower.. Well, Seonghwa, is still alive,” at that moment San finally looked up at Wooyoung with hope in his eyes. “Seonghwa, is alive? How? He was killed by Red Rose five years ago,” Wooyoung came to him and held his shoulder, “I know he is alive, the Frozen Lotus started to bloom, San. That’s only when dragon of Frozen Flower clan is awaken, and the only one is,” “Seonghwa,” San finished. Happy to hear that his dearest friend is still somewhere alive.

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“Jade? Why did Young Master throw me out?,” Ji Eun asked all concerned and looking back at the castle. “I don’t know, Lady, but I guess it was something only the two of them wanted to talk about,” Jade answered all calm and continued to walk through the garden of black orchids. “Hm, I guess. Oh you have a beach?,” Jade just nodded smiling at Ji Eun, “Can we go there?,” “Yes, Lady, as you wish.” When they came to the beach Ji Eun was looking around, being drawn in to the beauty of the whole place. Her sight ended up on something, or rather, someone, laying on the shore, not moving. “Jade! There’s someone on the shore!” Ji Eun yelled and Jade ran to the body, telling Ji Eun to not move. “Honey, what happened?” Wooyoung asked next to Ji Eun, San standing close by. “I don’t know...” “Young Master! It’s some girl!” San ran to Jade to look at the body. Wooyoung and Ji Eun followed the suit. Kneeling down, Wooyoung looked at the girl, “She is alive, but barely.. We need to pierce through her lungs, she has too much water in them,” “But, that’s dangerous.. Even you don’t do it, and you are a dragon Woo..” Ji Eun added, looking worriedly at the girl and at Wooyoung. “I’ll do it,” San said taking his knife out, “Wait! You can’t just pierce it like that!” “She is dying Woo.” San answered calmly and stabbed the girl in her chest, all the water flowing out of the wound. “You... You did it,” Ji Eun looked surprised at San, not understanding how he managed to do it so cleanly without a mistake. “Hey, you are up,” Jade looked at the girl helping her sit up, San instantly put knife on her neck, “Who are you and how did you get here,” He asked with the coldest voice he could manage. “You just saved her and now you are trying to kill her?” Ji Eun asked, annoyed at San’s antics. “Shut, I am the Dragon here, you are just a guest,” he answered without taking his eyes off the girl. “What’s your name!” He roared, impatient. “Y-Y/N,” the girl softly said and passed out, drained of her energy and scared for her life.

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You woke up in a dark room. “Please, no, no no no... I escaped I can’t be here again,” You were in a panic mode trying to figure out how you got back to that cold and dead place. “Here again? What do you mean? We found you like four hours ago,” you looked up at a beautiful girl, she looked your age. “W-who are you,” you shuffeled more to the wall, scared for your life. “I am Ji Eun, wife of Water Dragon, Wooyoung, and who are you, little one?” Ji Eun softly smiled, showing she meant no harm. “Just.. Y/N, no family, no clan, nothing...,” you answered honestly, still processing events which happened in past year. “Let me look at your bruises, please. I won’t hurt you, we at Jung clan are healers we never mean harm,” Ji Eun came closer to your weak body and kneeled down, putting her hand on your shoulder in a friendly manner. Nodding, you took off your shirt, making her gasp in horror. “What monster did this to you,” she quickly took medical herbs and warm water to wash your body before she put medicine on it. “A snake,” you answered without a thought. “How are you,” you heard that cold voice which threatened you earlier, “F-fine...” you looked at the young male, his hair dark as night and his eyes holding stars and galaxies in them. “You know who am I?” the male asked all curious if you knew. “No... I suspect you are not Water Dragon, or ?” you were unsure, never seen any of these people. Ji Eun chuckled, “If this was a Water Dragon, the waters would be black as night,” you looked at her, shocked. “Yo-you are, Choi San? The Night Dragon? The most dangerous assassin?” you were shocked and scared for your life more than ever. “That I am. I see you know me,” “Who doesn’t...” you added in small voice, waiting if he will kill you on the spot or torture you. “Ah, don’t think such bad toughts, flower. Sannie looks scary but won’t hurt you without a reason,” another male came in, wearing soft blue clothes and his hair blond. “And do you know who am I?” he asked, smirking slightly. You looked and saw a similarities in Ji Eun’s clothes and his. “Are you, the Water Dragon? Jung Wooyoung?” you were unsure, never knowing what to expect from these people. “That’s right. Now tell me, how are you breathing?” he asked, concern present in his eyes. “Fine, I guess. Hurts a little bit,” looking down you saw your chest in bandage, ‘Weird I wasn’t stabbed or was I’ you thought to yourself. “San stabbed you, your lungs were full of water,” You looked at both males in surprise, not knowing how to react. “So if you feel discomfort while breathing just tell me, can’t afford you to drown in your own blood.” He finished, turning away. San still standing and looking at you cautious. His eyes went in realization when he saw something on your body. He was looking down at your hips so you followed the trail, to see what’s there that shocked him. You just saw your black rose tattoo. ‘Huh, maybe his clan has similar ones?’ you thought and looked back at San. “Sannie, It's rude to stay and watch female’s chest being exposed when you are not the one changing the bandage,” Wooyoung called out at the silent man, making you blush and making you look away. “Right.” He just answered shortly and went after Wooyoung. “Don’t be scared of him, he will not hurt you,” Ji Eun softly said while taking off the old bandage. “I don’t know, Lady. I am still an intruder,” you sighed. “Please just call me Ji Eun, and you will see what I mean later,” she answered slowly cleaning up your wound.

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It was a month already since you were in San’s castle. Jade always keeping an eye on you, just in case. Wooyoung and Ji Eun went back to their clan after two weeks of helping you, leaving you all alone. They were warm to you, helping you to understand the new world you were thrown into and you telling Ji Eun what actually happened to you. “Jade? Why is San never around? I mean he is the dragon so,” you asked her while you were sitting in the orchid garden. “Hm, I don’t know. He is very secretive about his outings. Not even the royal guards know where he goes to,” “Ah, I see. Oh, what’s that?” you pointed to the black glassy building. “There are black roses. Young Master’s private space, no one is allowed in. Not even Wooyoung,” she answered, “And don’t even think going in there, he might kill you, it’s his safe heaven,” patting your back she stood up going back into the castle. You stayed for a second, admiring the beautiful building. ‘Maybe, during the night...’ you thought and went after Jade.

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“Young Master, you came back,” Jade said to San, who was reading some papers. “Yeah, it wasn’t a long trip at the end,” San answered without looking up, “Jade, can you go to Wooyoung tonight and give him this?” he pointed to the black box adorned with roses. “Yes, Young Master. But, what about Y/N?” “What about her,” “She can’t be alone, and you don’t have anyone to watch over her when I will be gone. Should I take her with me?” “No, there’s no need. I will figure something out,” he said and looked out the window, “now go, you need to be back as soon as possible too,” “Yes, Young Master,” and Jade vanished. San sighed, “What will I do with you..”

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It was a night time and you went out into the orchid garden. Trying not to be seen by guards which are assassins is a tough job, you realized, but you managed. The garden never guarded for some reason. You were looking up at the beautiful building, trying to find a way in without being noticed. You finally found one of the floor windows open, so you went in through it. When you looked up you were in awe. It was filled with black roses on the floor and white wisteria’s at the top. There was also a quite large pond at the center, it’s water clear as diamonds, but had somehow purpelish colour to it. There were lavenders around the pond making it a small piece of heaven. You closed your eyes and breathed in the calming scent.

“What are you doing here,” you got startled by the cold voice and the knife around your neck. “I-I am sorry, Master, I-” “Save the excuses, I know Jade warned you to not go in here,” his voice was right next to your ear, making you gulp in fear, “Now, tell me, what are you doing here,” San asked, his lips touching your ear. “I-I wanted to see what’s inside, I didn’t mean any harm! I promise!” you said, closing your eyes and waiting for your death. “And now when you are seeing it, what do you see?” he asked calmly, but his voice all husky filled with something you couldn’t point out. “A calm night sky filled with stars,” you answered honestly, hoping your answer was correct. “Mhmm, good,” he said and put away the knife in the process turning you around to meet his eyes. “Do you have a death wish tho?” he asked looking at your lips and back to your eyes. You were looking anywhere but him, “I don’t know. It’s not like I would be missed or someone was looking after me,” you said brokenly, the truth having no one getting to you. “What do you mean, Jade is fond of you, same goes for Ji Eun,” San said while cupping your left cheek softly, “and my nights would be boring without you,” he made you look him in the eyes, stars and galaxies present. “W-what do you mean, You are always alone at night..” you looked at him confused about what he said. “You think I would let you go around the grounds alone? And during the night?” it hit you now that he was always following you at nights. “W-wait, so you were there when I-” “When you took a bath at Silver River? Yes,” he honestly said and got closer to you, whispering against your lips, “And I want to tear apart whoever did those scars to you,” “No one.” you said and looked away. “You know you can’t lie to me right?” he held your jaw and turned your face back to him, “now tell me, who hurt you,” he put a single lost strand of your hair behind your ear. You breathed in, “A snake,” you said with your voice trembling, “I don’t know who he was really, but he had a snake tattoo on his neck,” you finished, looking down at your trembling fingers. “It’s late, I should go to bed,” you quickly bowed and ran back out and to your room, memories of your torture suddenly coming back.

“Huh, a snake tattoo on a neck..” San said to himself and looked at the wisterias above him, “I hate Ji Eun for being right, saying I will fall in love with Y/N quickly,” he mumbled and sat at the pond. “She is your destined bride, you can’t do much about it, brother,” a melodic voice said. “Jongho, you are back,” San said and hugged his little brother. “Yes,” he smiled and started telling San about his adventures.

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Another three months came by. You got to know Jongho, him being same and also different than San. He was more friendly, his voice more soft. He was also a year younger than you, but he took you as a little sister. “Jongho!” you yelled at the said male, who was hiding in the trees, “Come down! I promise I won’t hurt you!” you said. “I don’t believe you!” he yelled from somewhere above you. You sighed still pissed at what he did earlier. ~

“Y/N! Come here!” Jongho yelled at you to come over to him at the Silver River. “What..” you came closer to him and he pushed you into the water, making you yell at him, “The HELL you are doing!” you came out the water to smack him but froze when you saw San looking up and down your body. “You should wear something out of more strong material than this light and see-through dress,” San said, smirking at you. You looked down in horror and tried to cover yourself. “Turn around! Oh God, no one taught you manners?” San turned around and chuckled, “I mean, you don’t have to be shy. You can walk around like that if you want to,” you could hear the smirk in his voice. He continued on with his rambling and you came behind him and smacked him across his head, “I swear! Jongho! Get your ass here! You are dead! And you,” you pointed at San, “I will kill you later too,” you huffed and walked away to find Jongho.

“I promise I won’t hurt you. I will steal cake from the kitchen for you,” you said all innocent, “You promise?” Jongho asked still unsure. “Yes , I promise,” at that Jongho came down and smiled at you, “Let’s get the cake!” he laughed and put an arm around your shoulders. You smiled and suddenly smacked his head, “You are crazy! Throwing me into the water when I was wearing that dress!” he laughed and ran in front of you, “Look, I was just trying to make my brother happy and I succeded!” he added and took off. “YAH!” you went after him.

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The night came quicker then it did usually. You didn’t mind and went to the Black Rose garden. San stopped bugging you about it and eventually let you go in there whenever you wanted to. When you walked in you were in peace instantly and sat on the bench that was in front of the pond. It was made of black glass, adorned with black and white roses. You were back hugged and you smiled, “San, shouldn’t you be at the Star Gate?” you turned around, but your smile faded. It wasn’t San, no. It was- “Missed me, honey?” he smirked, his green eyes and his snake tattoo were haunting your dreams to this day. “W-what are you doing here, how-” “Shhhh, we don’t want a big black snake here now do we,” he smirked more and leaned in, “I missed my play thing,” you slapped him and he laughed. “Oh, look, someone isn’t a cry baby anymore.” “Jaehyun, leave, please,” he just smirked more and took your jaw in his hand, “Make me, princess” he leaned in for the kiss but was thrown away from you. “Touch her one more time, and you are dead,” you looked up at San, his eyes no longer holding galaxies and stars, no, they were pure blackness now. “Oh, look, it’s big bad snake,” Jaehyun smirked and took out his sword. “The only snake here, is you,” San sneared, showing off his sharp teeth, “If you will leave, maybe, I will kill you quickly,” he added and just stood there with calm face. “Oh, threats, I love them. But you see, she belongs to me,” Jaehyun finished and tried to attack San. But San was quicker and in no time, held Jaehyun by his neck, “Too slow for a snake,” he whispered in his ear and looked at him, “Jongho, here’s a play thing for you,” San said coldly, making Jaehyun’s eyes widen. “Oh, thank you brother for such a gift,” Jongho came out of nowhere, smirking devilishly. He took Jaehyun and again vanished.

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San turned around to you and held you close to him, “You good?” softly you nodded. “I told you, I would tear him apart.” he softly whispered in your hair. “Why,” you started but he took you by hand and took you more into the garden. “Where are you taking me?” “You will see,” he shortly answered and opened door that you never seen before. Inside was a beautiful- “A bedroom?” you looked at him confused, “You know why no one is allowed inside this building?” shooking your head you continued looking at him, “Because, these are my chambers,” he finished and softly squeezed your waist. “Oh, but why isn’t Wooyoung allowed here?” you asked, if they are close friends wouldn’t his friend allowed to go in? “Because he is annoying and bothersome.” San rolled his eyes and chuckled softly. “Now, you know why I took you here?” he turned to you and took your chin softly. “I guess it’s not to show me that white rose on the table,” you chuckled and looked at the flower in question. San smiled and kissed your cheek, “You know, today is the day when my soulmate should show up,” “Oh...” you sighed a little bit disappointed. “I want you to meet her,” he took you by hand. You were looking down not realizing where he was taking you to. Letting go of your hand he stood behind you and lifted your head. When you looked up you were in front of the mirror, “Huh, why mirror?” you looked at San through the mirror confused. He back hugged you and put his chin on your shoulder, “Because, Y/N, you are my soulmate,” he softly whispered and kissed you behind your ear softly, like a summer breeze. “W-what, no I am not I don’t have the mark-” “You do,” he lifted up your shirt and pointed at the black rose on your hip, “see? I know it’s not a tattoo,” his fingers softly caressed your hip and he sighed. “B-but that means.. You should have a matching one, right?” you looked at his neck and collarbones to see if there was something unusual, “Not there, sweetie,” he took your hand and guided it to the hem of his shirt and lifted it up. There on his ribs, was a white rose, glowing on his tanned skin. When you looked back at your hip, your black rose was also glowing, “But,” he shushed you by pressing a finger against your lips. Leaning in he whispered, “You can’t run away or find excuses, love, you belong to me from now on.” looking at your lips, he picked you up and put your legs around his waist, “Do you understand, love?” “Yes,” your answer barely audible. “Good,” he put you down on the bed and hovered above you, his biceps flexing. “And now, I will make you truly mine,” he smirked and kissed you hungrily.

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