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fantastic-bby · 4 years

Text

One Month

Pairing: (F)Reader x Youngjae

Word count: 4.3k

Genre: Fluff | Romance | Non-Idol!AU | Soulmate AU

Summary: While you’ve completely given up the idea of soulmates and love completely, Youngjae’s convinced that he can change your mind. Although the only thing he has is your long friendship, he’s willing to spend a whole month trying to win your heart...

Warnings: -

It’s ridiculous. That’s what you thought. There was no such thing as ‘strings’ or ‘akaito’. You had been through way too much pain to even think about the possibility of a soulmate. The dream of finding your soulmate had been crushed one too many times, and you had concluded that they just simply didn’t exist.

That thought also made you feel bitter whenever you saw couples in the streets. You wondered how they were so lucky to actually be compatible when all of your previous lovers had failed to be compatible with you. You were convinced that no one could change your mind.

Youngjae thought otherwise.

“She just doesn’t believe in soulmates,” he sighs just as Coco jumps onto his lap.

“Does she not believe in soulmates or does she just not want a relationship?” Mark asks as he hands Youngjae a mug of tea.

“Could be both.” Another sigh leaves his lips as he looks down at the steaming beverage.

Mark sits himself next to him, “How are you so sure about this anyway? Have you ever asked her directly?” He sips his own drink as he watches Youngjae.

“I’ve known (Y/n) since we were in college. I’m always the person she comes to when her boyfriends break up with her.” Youngjae pauses to run his hand through Coco’s coily fur. “She hasn’t dated anyone since her last ex. Apparently, she’s completely given up the idea of love and soulmates completely.”

“But you’re sure that she’s your soulmate,” Mark adds. He nods.

“Hyung, every time I see her I get this feeling - it’s like my heart could probably pop out of my chest and fly towards her!” He almost spills his tea when he throws his arms up into the air; his hands scrambling to steady the cup.

“If you spill that; you’re cleaning my couch,” the older man jokes. “Talk to her.” His statement makes Youngjae turn to him. “If you want her so badly, make a deal with her or something. Ask her to give you…” Mark trails off as he tries to plan it in his mind. His face lights up, “Ask her to give you time. See if you can convince her to believe in love again.”

“Doesn’t that make me sound like a dick?” Youngjae questions.

Mark hums for a moment before shaking his head, “You’re giving her a challenge. She’s gonna challenge herself to not fall in love with you, but when she does, she’ll fall harder than she realised.” It seems like a foolproof plan. Youngjae’s known you for six years. He knows you better than anyone else and he’d bet that he knows you better than you know yourself.

He stays at Mark’s apartment for a bit longer, planning what Youngjae should do in order to win your heart. They’ve concluded that showing up at your apartment in the middle of the night would not only be irrational but it would also annoy the hell out of you.

“Find some time to talk to her,” Mark says. “You guys have those monthly movie nights, right? Bring it up to her then.” His suggestion implants itself into Youngjae’s mind. The man carries the thought with him as he heads home, leash in hand and Coco running by his side.

“Doesn’t seem like a bad idea, right, Coco?” Youngjae looks down to face his tiny dog. The maltese only turns her head to look up at him, tongue hanging out of her mouth as she pants. “Yeah, you don’t think it’s a bad idea,” he concludes as they continue with their walk home.

As he walks, Youngjae wonders why you’ve never felt what he’s felt. He’s so certain that you’re his soulmate, but it always felt like something was missing. Every time he sees you, it’s like a glass of ice water on a hot day. Whenever he touches you, his entire body buzzes with joy. It just makes him wonder why can’t you feel it, too? Or if you do, why don’t you say anything?

He honestly thought he was crazy when he first met you. Youngjae just saw you as radiant and beautiful, but you always seemed to see him as a friend. So, that’s what he was to you; your best friend. He considered telling you what he felt on the inside when you were graduating, but Youngjae was discouraged whenever he saw you with one of the engineering students.

“Do you even think she would agree to it?” He questions Coco as he walks into the lift of his apartment. Coco sits patiently and looks up at him, tilting her head. “She would...right?”

»»————-　　————-««

“Pizza?” You suggest as you lean over your counter, phone in hand and eyes watching Youngjae.

“I’m fine with anything,” he shrugs as he pulls a bottle of soju out from your fridge. “Wine, soju or no alcohol?” You click your tongue as you think about it. You could skip the alcohol and avoid the possibility of a hangover in the morning - which could save you stress from work - or you could just have wine and drink the night away with Youngjae by your side.

“Fuck it; wine. My boss is driving me nuts.” Youngjae says no more as he puts the soju back in to grab the large bottle of red wine and places it on the counter.

He rummages through your cabinets to pull our two wine glasses, “What did he do this time?”

“He promoted that asshole in my office who’s only been working there for a year! I worked my ass off for four years, flew to Shanghai on my own last year because Kayla was sick, I got the company three different projects in the past two years, and Jason gets promoted because his daddy’s the CEO! Youngjae, he doesn’t even know how to use the editing software. He’s part of the editing team and he doesn’t know how to edit jack shit.” When you’re finished with your rant, Youngjae chuckles as he slides a glass of wine towards you.

“Why don’t you make friends with him and convince him to promote you?” he suggests nonchalantly.

“He’s an arrogant asshole who pushed my coffee out of my hands the other day in front of the office,” you deadpan. Youngjae’s face contorts into a grimace.

“He’s lucky none of us work with you or he’d get some sense beaten into him,” he chuckles.

“Can’t you just bring Jackson to the office one day? He doesn’t even need to do anything, he just needs to stand there and flex. Jason would piss himself the moment he sees Jackson’s big ass muscles,” you jokingly say.

“I’m not going to send my friends to your office just to scare them,” Youngjae snorts.

You let out a whine and pout, “I was just joking. But all jokes aside, I really wanna-” You imitate the action of strangling someone, aggressively shaking your hands back and forth while he laughs at you.

“Violence is never the answer, (Y/n).”

“Wouldn’t you know.” You turn to him and raise an eyebrow, silently reminding him of that fight he got into when you were still in college.

“Wh- We were twenty-two!” He scoffs, “That guy was drunk and he probably would’ve hurt Yugyeom!” You cross your arms over your chest and raise an eyebrow at him. Youngjae’s nose scrunches up in annoyance as he grumbles, “Okay, fine - I was jealous! Was that what you wanted to hear?”

You roll your eyes, “Why would you be jealous? We were just dancing.” You pick up the wine bottle and your glass, turning around to make your way to the living room.

“Because I was in love with you.” You freeze in your tracks. You slowly turn around, seeing Youngjae’s eyes trailed to the ground.

“W-What?” You watch in shock as he takes a deep breath, running a hand through his dark brown hair.

“I’ve been in love with you since we first met,” he confesses. “A-And I don’t know how you haven’t noticed at all in the past six years.” Youngjae’s looking at you now; soft brown eyes holding so much desperation that you can’t help but feel guilty.

“Y-Youngjae,” you place the glass onto the counter and rest the palm of your hands onto the smooth marble surface, “You know I don’t date anymore. I’m…” you turn away from him, not liking how vulnerable you suddenly felt. Usually, it wouldn’t mind that Youngjae would see this side to you, but now, it felt different. “I don’t believe in love anymore. It scares me.”

He rounds the counter and stands in front of you, “I promise I would never hurt you. Please, if you just give me a chance, I’ll prove to you that maybe love does exist.” You eye him skeptically. How could he change your mind? But more importantly: how have you been so unaware of his feelings towards you? “I bet I could make you fall in love with me in one month.” His voice pulls you out of your thoughts. You maintain your skeptical gaze, your arms crossed over your chest. It would be an interesting bet to see if Youngjae could play his cards right to make you change your mind. He also knows that you’re not the type of person to turn down bets.

“What would be in it for me?” Your question makes him smirk.

“If you don’t fall in love, I’ll make you dinner every night for a whole month.” You cock an eyebrow at the tempting offer.

“But, what if I do?” you tilt your head curiously.

“If you fall in love, then we get together,” Youngjae tells you. You think over the bet as you stare at him. “It would benefit both of us if you do end up falling in love, and I’ll prove to you that love isn’t all that bad.”

You purse your lips into a straight line. You’re sure that you could win the deal. After all, you’ve managed to go through a friendship with Youngjae without falling in love with him. “Deal.”

“The month begins tomorrow,” he smiles.

»»————-　　————-««

Date One

Youngjae: Are you busy tonight?

(Y/n): Nope

Youngjae: Let’s go out. Wear something casual. I’ll be there by eight.

You stare at his message. You were preparing yourself in being adamant on not falling in love with him - actually, you were just convinced that he would be unable to change your mind. After the years of heartbreak and betrayal by your past lovers, you just couldn’t believe in the idea of true love. Dating was scratched out of your life by the time you were twenty-two and the idea of marriage was tossed out the window on your twenty-third birthday.

Though, you were curious on just how far Youngjae would go in order to win your heart. So, by seven you were already getting ready. You look through your close, opting for just a crop top and a pair of denim shorts. The summer was starting to make the temperature rise day-by-day and you were certain that even at night, it was still going to be quite warm.

You hear the doorbell to your apartment ringing right as you’re grabbing your bag from your bed. You head out of your bedroom and open the door to see Youngjae nervously standing outside of your apartment. He quickly changes his stance when he realises the door is open and smiles,

“Shall we?” You step out of your apartment and follow by his side.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” You question, glancing over at him.

“It’s a surprise, but you’ll love it.” Youngjae turns to you with a smile. You raise an eyebrow as he leads you out of your apartment. “It’s walking distance, but that’s all I’ll tell you,” he says when he sees the questioning look on your face. Your mind wanders to the possibilities of where he’s taking you while you both walk. It’s only when you see it that it hits you.

“The Summer Funfair!” You gasp loudly and turn to him. Youngjae has his usual bright smile on his face as he nods. He pulls out a tiny pouch filled with tokens that he had bought a week prior for the fair. When you saw that there was going to be a funfair nearby your house, you failed to leave Youngjae in the dark about it. You had bugged him about accompanying you halfway through spring when it was announced.

“You kept saying you wanted to check it out, so I thought that I could bring you here for our first date.” There’s a pink tint to his cheeks as he speaks. For the first time, you realise how cute he looks when he blushes. Youngjae pulls you through the large floral decorated gates, the two of you immediately being enveloped by a sense of joy and excitement. Children run past you, couples hold hands as they wander through the fair and Youngjae hopes he can hold yours.

You turn to Youngjae, “Can we ride the pirate ship?” Your finger points to the large ship that swings through the air in the distance and your best friend swears he feels his entire soul leaving his body as he watches it.

“(Y/n), y-you know I don’t handle heights well,” he gulps.

“Youngjae, please,” you pout. “You can’t tell me that you bring me here but we can’t ride the pirate ship.” You cross your arms over your chest as Youngjae stares at you with a gaping mouth and wide eyes. He lets out a deep sigh before nodding. You let out an excited squeal and grab his hand, dragging him straight to the ride.

All he can think of, though, is the feeling of your hand in his. Youngjae feels that familiar buzzing sensation that he gets every time your skin touches his as he looks at the way you’re completely oblivious to how he’s watching you.

When you reach the line to the fair, it seems that lady luck is by your side since there’s barely a line. Youngjae feels his stomach sink when he realises that means, “We can sit at the very back!” You turn to him with sparkling eyes. Your excitement is the only thing that keeps him from backing out and he chuckles before nodding awkwardly.

Youngjae watches the ship swing all the way to the top, stopping as it hangs upside down and he can’t help but know he might throw up. He’s lucky he skipped dinner since he knew you’d want to buy food at the fair instead. He watches as you bounce on your feet, waiting for your turn as more people line up behind you.

“(Y/n), I’m not so sure about this…” he trails off when the line starts moving forward.

“Youngjae, you’ll be fine,” you reassure him as you hold onto his wrist once again. “I’ll hold your hand through the whole thing, okay?” He stares at you before realising there’s seriously no way out of this and allows you to pull him towards the ship.

»»————-　　————-««

“(Y/n), I really don’t think I can go on another ride,” Youngjae whines as you continue to pull him through the fair.

“Let’s take a break from the rides, okay?” You turn to him. You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing at the relieved look on his face. The grumble of his stomach is audible to you and his face immediately flushes red. “Let’s get something to eat before your stomach hurts,” you take his hand and drag him through the crowd once again.

You stop at one of the stalls selling corn dogs and see Youngjae’s face light up. He steps forward to look at the menu, turning around to notice that you’ve disappeared. He stands a bit taller to look for you in the crowd, seeing you standing in front of a game stall with wide eyes. Youngjae lets out a chuckle - how could he have forgotten just how quick you are when you see something that catches your eye.

He buys two corn dogs before walking towards where you are, “What are you looking at?” Youngjae asks when he’s standing beside you while holding one of his hands out.

“That,” you point towards the large panda plushie.

“You were staring at that for five whole minutes?” He questions as he takes a bite out of his corn dog. You nod silently as you by your own. “I’ll win it for you.” Youngjae holds the corn dog in between his teeth as he goes up.

“Shoot all the cans down and you get to choose your prize,” the venodor tells him. He gestures to the sign sitting on the wooden counter reading “four tokens”. Youngjae digs into his pocket to pull out his tokens - all the while with the corn dog still in his mouth - before handing it to the man who hands him the toy gun.

You stand by his side, munching away at the snack in your hands as you watch him shoot the cans. You glance over at Youngjae, your mind filling with amusement at the sight of him with a toy rifle and a corn dog hanging from his mouth. You pull your phone out of your pocket and quickly snap a photo of him.

“You better win me that panda or I’ll send this to your friends,” you threaten playfully as you wave the phone in front of him. Youngjae gives you a warning glare before successfully shooting down the last can. A surge of joy washes over you and you start bouncing on your feet as you watch him hand the gun back to the man.

“The panda plushie, please,” he says as he finally pulls the corn dog out of his mouth. The vendor turns around and you can feel yourself filling with more excitement as you watch him pull the massive panda plushie off of the shelf. You start bouncing on your feet as the panda comes closer to Youngjae who takes it from the man, thanking him with a smile before he turns to you, “Ta da!”

You take the large plushie from him, your bottom lip caught between your teeth to stop yourself from smiling too wide - you’re still smiling anyway. “Thank you, Youngjae!” You hug the panda to yourself with one arm while you open your other arm at him. He can’t stop his own smile as he hugs you, his right hand held out behind you to keep the mustard on the corn dog from accidentally touching you.

When he pulls away, he’s still smiling, “Do you like it?” You nod ecstatically. Youngjae’s smile grows, his arm stays wrapped around your shoulder as you start to walk once again.

“What ride should we go on next?” You wonder out loud, causing him to pull his arm away from you.

“Please not the roller coaster,” he groans. You look between him and the loop-the-loop in the distance before grabbing his hand and dragging him straight there.

»»————-　　————-««

Date Two

“Movie night?” you question when you see Youngjae standing outside with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder and a plastic bag held in the other. He nods, a small smile pulling on his lips. You let him into your apartment and take the bag from his hands.

“There’s a whole bag of popcorn in there and two cans of sprite.”

“I’ll put the popcorn in the bowl,” you tell him, “go ahead and choose a movie.” Youngjae obliges and heads towards your living room. When you enter the living room with a bowl of popcorn, he’s already chosen a movie. “Zootopia?” He nods as he presses play just as you plop yourself on the spot beside him.

“You haven’t seen it, but you promised me a few years ago that you would. So, now I’m gonna make you watch it,” he hums.

"Are you turning me into a furry?” you narrow your eyes at him accusingly. Youngjae bellows with laughter as he shakes his head.

“I just know you’ll like it.”

»»————-　　————-««

"Are you crying?" Youngjae looks at you, stunned. You turn to him with tears streaming down your face and point at the screen,

"H-Her crying made me sad." He feels his insides soften and he coos before opening his left arm. You cuddle into his side without much thought and rest your head against his chest.

"You're so cute," he chuckles and glances down at you.

"You get amusement out of my crying?" You glare at him accusingly. Youngjae stares at your glare before doing something he's hesitated with for years; he leans down and kisses your forehead.

"I just said you're cute - nothing else.” You look up at him with cheeks flushed from the gesture. Youngjae only smiles at you softly. You look into his brown eyes and feel butterflies erupting in your stomach.

“That’s weird,” you think out loud as you turn away from him. He hums questioningly but you shake your head, “I-it’s nothing.” You’re more confused than ever at the thought of Youngjae being the person who makes you feel the way you do. Throughout the rest of the movie, your mind is occupied by how he’s treated you.

“Are you okay? You seem a bit distant,” Youngjae asks as he turns to look at you. You’re snapped out of your thoughts and nod quickly.

“I’m fine,” you reassure him. He gives you a weird look but doesn’t question further and instead, stands to bring the empty bowl into your kitchen. Once you’re alone, you continue to think about Youngjae - or more specifically, his actions. The night ends with you bidding him goodbye at your front door where he waves as you close the door. You lean against the door and think about it further.

Maybe Youngjae would find your heart easier to win than you thought.

»»————-　　————-««

Date Three

You step into the cafe with wide eyes. “This cafe is so cute!” you gasp when you look around at the white walls decorated with fake vines hanging from the ceiling.

“I told you you’d like it,” Youngjae chuckles as he watches how you admire the entire cafe. He loves to watch how excited you get around cute things. “Go ahead and sit down first, I’ll order for you.” You oblige, heading off to one of the tables by the large window that outlooks the street. You sit down and watch as Youngjae lines up at the counter.

You tell yourself it’s because he’s trying to win your heart when you can’t help but admire his efforts. Youngjae truly is a gentleman. Whether or not you failed to pay attention to him throughout the years of your friendship was something that you debated over silently. Youngjae returns to you while you’re still lost in thought, the sound of his placing a tray on the table being the reason you come back to reality.

“I got you macaroons and iced tea,” he says as he places the tall glass in front of you. Youngjae takes the plate off of the tray as well as his own drink before moving the tray aside. You coo when you see the macarons.

“They look like little kitties.” You pull out your phone and snap a quick photo of the cutely decorated macarons before gingerly picking up a mint green one. The cat face and ears are drawn on with chocolate and you almost feel bad for eating it because of how cute it is.

“(Y/n), you can’t just stare at it forever,” Youngjae chuckles when he sees your hesitation.

“I can’t just eat it, it’s so cute,” you pout and turn the dessert around to show him the cat face. “Would you eat me, Youngjae?” you move the macaron around him as though the cat was talking to him. He swipes the macaron from your hand and pops the whole thing in his mouth. A smile grows on Youngjae’s face when he sees your gobsmacked expression. “You’re so heartless.”

“If you don’t want to eat them, I’ll eat all of them.” His hand hovers over the rest of the macarons threateningly and it causes you to slowly pull the plate closer to you.

“Nuh uh, I’m not going to let stone cold Youngjae eat all of them.” You decide against looking at the macaron since you know you might feel bad again - you honestly don’t know why you do - and pop it into your mouth. The moment you bite into it, the sweet and citrusy flavour of it envelopes your tongue.

“You’re adorable,” Youngjae chuckles, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he tries not to smile too wide at you. You face contorts in confusion at the sudden statement. “You were doing that happy dance you do whenever you eat something you like.” Your entire body freezes and you’re surprised when you feel flustered.

You silently take a sip from your drink to avoid saying anything. Youngjae lets out another chuckle but decides against commenting on your flustered state. You look away from him and out the window, desperately trying to make your blush go away as quickly as possible. He watches with a small smile on his face. He’s made you flustered before, but he’s never made you this flustered.

"Anyway," you clear your throat, "what's your plan for the whole month?"

"There is no plan," he states. You give him a confused look. "I'm just going to treat you like I always do. I know you better than anyone else, and I'll use what I know to win your heart."

"You sound pretty confident in yourself, huh?" you tease. Youngjae smiles before reaching over to take your hand in his,

"It's because I know I do." You look down at his hand that's holding yours so gingerly, his thumb running over your knuckles. You watch as he suddenly stands and rounds the table to sit at the empty seat beside yours.

Youngjae leans towards you and kisses you. You swear there's a switch inside you that flicks the moment his lips are on yours because you know,

You know you didn't love him this way before.

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kumeko · 4 years

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Title: chicken soup for the Robin soul

A/N: For @awhitehead17 for the @robinchristmasexchange!

…

“I’m fine,” Tim croaked, struggling to sit up on his bed. His hands burned as he fumbled with the blankets, the cool cotton doing little to lower his temperature.

“Just lie down,” his father sighed, hobbling over with a preciously balanced tray of food. The chicken soup sloshed slightly as he walked; despite his physiotherapy, he still had a bit of limp. Setting it down slowly on the side table, he crossed his arms, bemused. “Don’t know where you get this stubbornness from.”

“You,” Tim chuckled, but the laugh caught in his chest and he started to cough. Hunching over, his shoulders shook as he wheezed. It felt like that time he broke his ribs. Maybe he had broken his ribs and this wasn’t the flu. He could get Bruce and Alfred to check on it and—god, he was sick, wasn’t he?

“Alright wise-guy, good to see you’ve recovered enough to make jokes again.” Jack stacked up the pillows behind Tim, before slowly easing him into an upright position. Pressing his fingers against Tim’s neck, he winced. “But you’re still burning up. After soup, back to bed for you.”

His shoulders slumped as he nodded, giving in. There was no way Tim could patrol tonight, even if he wasn’t sick—his father would check up on him too much. Plus he’d be a complete liability to Batman. And after all it took to convince him to even let him wear the costume, he didn’t want to risk losing it. Picking up a spoon, he glanced as his dad suspiciously. “Did you make this?”

“Don’t worry, it was Dana.” Jack ruffled his hair, a wry smile on his face. “Can’t make you even more sick.” He paused. “You’re…fine with that?”

“With Dana?” Tim smiled, taking a small spoonful of the soup. If he had any doubts about his father’s new girlfriend, they were gone instantly. He moaned slightly, licking his lips. “Oh yes, she can stay. She’s a much better cook than you.”

His father ruffled his hair more aggressively this time. “Alright, that’s enough out of you.” Pointing at the pills in the tray, Jack added, “When I’m back, those better be gone.”

“Yessir.” He barely managed to salute, his fingers tapping his burning forehead, before he dropped his too heavy arm to his side. The door closed with a soft click and Tim leaned to his side table, staring at the yellow broth and the two white tablets next to it. His stomach growled and he took another sip of the soup.

Yeah, he could definitely get used to this.

There was a soft click and Tim dropped the spoon. A burglar? The window behind him silently slid open, well-oiled after all of his sneaking out, and there was an almost silent thud as someone entered his room. Tim took a deep breath, ready to yell for help.

“Tim.”

At that gravelly voice, Tim relaxed and slumped back into the pillows. Turning over, he stared as Batman stood in a corner, his huge frame awkward in a teenager’s room. There was nothing about this that worked, whether it was his posters or his models or even his row of books—all of it screamed just how out-of-place Batman was.

“You scared me.” He tried not to laugh, it hurt too much, but judging by the slight rise of Batman’s lips, he hadn’t hidden anything.

“Just wanted to check how you are.” Batman quietly stepped forward, next to his bed. “You look terrible.”

“You should see the other guy,” Tim quipped, closing his eyes. The absolute darkness felt good and soothing, somehow.

He could hear Batman retreat, returning to the window. “Don’t come back for a week.”

At that, Tim’s eyes flew open. “I’ll be fine by tom—”

“Tim.” Batman slid open the window and looked over his shoulder. “Take your time. Robin can wait a couple of days.” And with that, he vanished into the darkness.

Tim blinked. That meant he could still be Robin, right?

ii.

The ceiling was the same. Sprawled out on one of the Wayne Manor’s beds, Tim stared blankly at the ceiling, at the white bumps that formed countless patterns. Identical patterns to the one in his old bedroom and it was funny that in this mansion surrounded by wealth, something had stayed constant with his old, crappy apartment.

No, that wasn’t right. The apartment wasn’t his anymore. This was his home now, though no matter how many times Tim repeated it, it didn’t sound real.

There was a knock on the door and he turned just as Bruce poked his head in. “You awake?”

“Hard not to be,” Tim rasped. Every breath racked his body and for once he couldn’t argue against the ‘sick’ verdict. He didn’t even need to ask to know that Steph and Cass were taking over his patrol. They’d both stopped by earlier, squeezing his hand sympathetically before disappearing into the night. If anything, he was surprised to find Bruce still here. Batman didn’t come home until the sun was up and sometimes not even then. “What about patrol?”

Bruce chuckled, his voice low and deep but not at the depths of his alter ego. It was hard to believe they were the same person sometimes. To believe that either of them were the ‘real’ Bruce or that both of them were or that maybe there was a third Bruce he’d find someday. “I got that covered.”

In his hands was a tray, a large bowl of soup taking up the majority of the space. Tim stared, and for a moment, he could see his father hobbling up a narrow corridor, hear a cane as it rapped on the wooden floor. A heavy hand on his forehead, a gruff Son, you overdid it at football practice.

(and the lies, the lies that piled on like snow, did they ever have an honest conversation?)

“Don’t worry, Alfred made this,” Bruce sighed, setting down the tray. “So you don’t have to stare so much.”

“No, that’s…that’s not it.” Even this conversation was an echo and Tim looked away. Maybe his fever was getting to him. “Alfred did?”

“Yes.” Bruce glanced at him and it was hard not to believe he didn’t figure it out right then and there. “You feeling better?”

“A little,” he lied, pushing himself up to examine the tray. It was far neater than anything Jack and Dana had ever made. The pills were on a small plate.

A warm, heavy hand was on his forehead and this wasn’t a memory, this was reality. Tim closed his eyes as Bruce pulled away. “Your fever is down, at least.”

“Yeah.” Tim swallowed. He felt slightly nauseous and he wasn’t sure if it was his illness or just the situation.

“You can sleep after you eat.” Bruce helped ease him up, pushing another pillow behind him so he could recline comfortably. “Alfred’ll have my head if I come back with a full bowl.”

Tim smiled, despite himself. “He wouldn’t. He’s just acting.”

“No, that’s his real trick. It makes it hard to tell when he’s ‘being silly’ and when he’s serious.” Bruce’s voice dropped into a low whisper. “I know he’s serious.”

“Then I’ll take the soup.” Tim sat up a little straighter. “Robin has to protect Batman, after all.”

“Yeah.” Bruce squeezed his shoulder. “But make sure to take care of yourself first.”

iii.

“How you feeling, kiddo?” The bed sank slightly as Dick sat down, his hand already checking Tim’s forehead. His fingers brushed aside Tim’s sweaty bangs. “Oof. Fever.”

Tim stared blearily at the ceiling. He was way too used to this sight, to this feeling. “Terrible,” he croaked, sounding like a frog was stuck in his throat. Maybe it was. In this world, full of aliens and magic, it was entirely possible he was just cursed.

“You sound it too.” Dick wrapped an arm around him, pulling Tim up just enough to stack the pillows behind him. Easing him back into a seated position, Dick sighed. “You pushed yourself too hard.”

Tim gave him a flat stare.

“Hey, I’m telling the truth. Don’t look at me like that.” Sitting back, Dick crossed his arms. “I should have known you were sick the second you started calling yourself ‘Red Robin’. And you make fun of my disco phase.”

“Because that was a stupid costume and you know it,” Tim chuckled. His chest ached with every vibration and he winced. “Even Babs said so.”

Looking a little miffed, Dick pursed his lips. His eyes narrowed. “Krory and Gar didn’t think so.” When Tim only gave him a sad stare, Dick huffed and picked up the glass of water. “Take your meds—your fever’s making you delusional.”

There was a loud bang outside and Tim almost dropped the glass. As silence wrapped around them like a familiar blanket, he turned to Dick, eyebrow raised. “What was that?”

“Well, I couldn’t leave the gremlin unsupervised. Since he’s been trying to kill you and everything.” Another loud bang and he rubbed the back of his head. “Cass said she’d take care of it.”

“Training?” Tim mumbled, flinching at a particularly loud crack.

“Yeah. I should have expected that.” Dick’s shoulders slumped and he pressed a hand to his face, massaging his forehead. “I don’t know if it’s worse if they’re fighting or actually training. Kid’s already dangerous enough as is, if Cass starts teaching him…” He trailed off ominously and Tim felt a shiver that had nothing to do with his illness.

Staring at the pills in his hand, Tim quickly downed them. This whole scenario felt familiar: the chicken noodle soup, the pills, the awkward bedside conversation. Life was just a series of circles. Deaths. Rebirths. Deaths again. Closing his eyes, he murmured, “I’m tired.”

“You can eat later,” Dick suggested, reaching forward to adjust the pillow stack.

Tim laid a hand on his wrist, stopping him. “Not that—I’m just…of death. I’m tired of it.” His fingers dug in slightly. “Dad. Dana. Steph. Connor. Bart. And now…” Bruce. He couldn’t say the words, couldn’t make them real. If he said it, he’d cry. There was no changing that fact. He’d breakdown and he couldn’t do that. “I don’t want to lose anyone else.” His voice cracked.

Dick gently pried off his hand before pulling Tim up for a proper hug. His arms wrapped around Tim tight. “I know.”

“Does it—?” Tim asked, burying his face in Dick’s chest. He couldn’t remember the last time he hugged someone. The last time he was hugged. Maybe it was before the crisis, before Bruce’s disappearance. Or even earlier.

“It doesn’t get easier,” Dick stated softly. “You just…you just learn to handle it better. But it’ll always hurt.”

“Oh.” Was that good or bad? Tim closed his eyes. “Bruce, he’s alive. I know he is.”

Dick didn’t say anything, just hugged him tighter.

iv.

“Are you sure you want to handle this?” Alfred asked, carefully placing the tray in Tim’s hands. Despite his age, he moved spryly around the kitchen, adding napkins and utensils and a small vase with a single rose to Tim’s cargo. “You could fall ill.”

“Knowing my luck, I already am.” Tim smiled crookedly, adjusting the tray slightly. “Besides, a sick Bruce? I can’t miss this.”

“Do not tease him too much,” Alfred warned wryly. “And do be careful, Master Timothy. I have my hands full with Master Damian as is, I do not need another patient.”

“Maybe I should visit him too.” Chuckling darkly as he climbed the stairs, Tim spared a glance at Damian’s room. Maybe he could get Dick and Stephanie to come. They’d definitely get a laugh out of this.

Coming to a halt in front of the master bedroom, Tim took a deep breath. The room was occupied now. Connor was back. Bart was back. Steph was back. And Bruce had never left, not really. For once, things were looking good. Smiling brightly, Tim eased the door open with his foot. “How’re you feeling?”

For once, it felt good to be the one giving soup, not receiving it.

#tim drake #bruce wayne #dick grayson #batman #robin #nightwing #jack drake #alfred pennyworth #fanfic #i really liked touching the various events Tim went through #(screw you dc stop rewriting the past so much)#my fav was just writing the mirroring events of tim waking up sick #a challenge to come up with different ways to start each section

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pyrotic-goat · 4 years

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Minecraft au Achievement city is basically a small settlement the three gents built together. --- Geoff and the creeper boy He finds the burnt up kid, Gavin, after a run in with creepers that explode. Creepers always ignore Gavin as do many other mobs, Gavin has black and green skin splotches like a creeper. It’s suspected that Gavin could explode and after some science is done, he’s definitely able to blow up. -- Ryan and ‘wolf’ Michael Ryan teaches the boy to speak basic english while feeding the pack and him. He also made a hide jacket for him. Michael very much has the whole wolf pack ideals where he tries to act like an alpha but always bows to Ryan. One night Michael comes to Achievement city during a terrible storm. He’s bloody and tells him the entire pack was killed. Ryan remembers the day he met the boy well. He had befriended by letting them stay close to achievement city where they could receive easy food from the farm and Ryan. In return they keep other, less passive violent wolf's away from the city, and kept the monster’s in the woods at bay. Ryan had planned on collecting bones from the area for Jack and the farm, when he came across the pack in a clearing. They didn’t pay him much attention, so long as he kept his distance. To be extra safe he had left an offering of cooked chicken near them. While he collected bones, he noticed the wolves approach the chicken out of the corner of his eye. He also noticed that one of them was hairless. He watched it out of curiosity as it approached the chicken along with two other wolves, it was shorter and skinnier than the other wolves, and was covered in fresh as well as faded scars. Then he noticed the hair on it’s- his head. Ryan had to do a double take. One of the wolves hunched over the chicken was a boy, a human. Ryan stepped forwards a bit, wary of the wolves he kept a large distance, before calling. “Hello, young man?” Several of the wolves tilted their heads to Ryan, including the wild naked boy who’s brow arched. “Boy, can you understand me?” Ryan asked. He tilted his head and furrowed his brow, nodding in response. He glanced at the wolf nearest to him, then Ryan again. Like he was evaluating what he seeing. It was someone like him. He had wild curly red/brown hair that mopped down to his shoulders. Ryan took another step forwards, voice softening. “Buddy, can you speak?” The wild boys eyes narrowed again, but didn’t flinch from him moving closer. He slowly bent forwards for a bite of the chicken. He bit into the chicken while watching Ryan intently. All of the wolves were watching Ryan now. Ryan knew he had to play this carefully, he’d never seen the man before, he was either nuts or raised by animals. He was also surrounded by wolves who would, more than likely, not hesitate to attack him if he pissed off the boy or moved to aggressively. “Can you speak? Do you talk?” Ryan carefully asked. The man swallowed and thought for a moment, before opening his mouth. “Speak. Understand.” He grunted, low and guttural like it was foreign to speak. Ryan relaxed a little. So he did understand. Ryan took off his shawl, it was a large red wool one he had made himself, it was mostly waterproof and warm. He gently set it down on the ground in front of himself before taking several large steps back. “Warm.” Ryan motioned to the shawl, then like he was wrapping the shawl around himself. He watched silently as three wolves and the wolf boy slowly stalked over to sniff at the jacket. Michael looked back at him. Ryan made the motion again and the man sat back on his ass, Ryan glanced away for a moment. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the wolf boy drag the cape to his chest as he felt it, and sniffed it. And sure enough he wrapped it around himself. The three wolves sniffed at him an barked. This got the attention of the rest of the pack, who were watching the situation carefully. One day there’s a terrible storm, and a pounding on the door that scares the gents and Gavin. They assume it’s the wind, but when it persists Geoff goes to the door, ready to stab at whatever is outside, and opens the door. Outside is a soaked, shaking, hurt, mostly nude curly haired man who collapses when the door is opened. Geoff screams in shock, Jack and Ryan run out to help. Ryan immediately recognizes him, running over and helping him, telling the other gents he’s not a danger. They care for him, patching up his wounds and feeding him. And try to put pants on him. He complains, but doesn’t fight. Especially when Ryan’s around. Eventually He explains that the dogs were killed in a flood, Only able to survive by clinging onto a branch. He’s very nervous around water and anytime it rains he gets really antsy. Ryan gives him a great many pets. While he’s willing to compromise on wearing pants after he’s eaten, agreeing to shorts. He refuses to sleep inside past the first two nights. Ryan makes a bed for him out in the barn where Edgar and Edgar 2 live. Ryan hums to himself as he drops the fresh Hay bale on the ground, spreading it outs in a large circle as Michael interacts with Edgar. Sniffing the cow and grunting at them. Ryan adds a final blanket on top of the pile, nodding and turning to Michael. “Alright, bed’s done. Hope it’s nice.” Michael lays down and groans, rolling onto his back and stretching. “It’s very nice.” He grumbles. “Good to hear, well, i’m going to go inside, the back will be unlocked if you need anything.” Ryan opens the barn door. “W-wait.” Ryan turns to look at Michael, tilting his head. Michaels sitting up and rubbing his arm. “Stay with me tonight?” Ryan lays down, groaning quietly as he gets used to the feeling of the hay. After a moment, Michael shifts, pressing against Ryans chest. Ryan sighs, resting a hand in the curly red hair. Ryan yawns and sits up, rubbing his face. Michael is already up, the doors propped open and sitting in the entryway. “You opened the door on your own?” “The Geoff did it. To check on you and let Edgar out.” Michael bumps his head against his leg and make him jump a bit. He looks down at Michael, who’s squinting back up at him. Ryan sighs softly, ruffling Michaels hair as he bites back a ‘good boy’. Michael can’t walk on two legs, he can crouch and crawl pretty fucking fast but he can’t completely rise up on his back legs without loosing his balance. Michael follows Ryan around all day as he does his chores, often giving Michael things to carry and help. Michael has a hard time around the other guys. He gets snarly sometimes when they touch Ryan or get to rough with Ryan. Ryan always finds it more amusing than anything else. Ryan touching foreheads with Jack and talking and being gentle, Michaels seeing this. After seeing and hearing how much Ryan cares about the others, Michael eventually accepts them as pack as well. Gavin really likes to make Michael agressive, but Michael does try to avoid him when he can smell the gunpowder. “I don’t smell like gunpowder!” “You smell like you rolled in it.” “Do not!” “Do too.” Gavin likes to make him growl and bare his teeth and play fight. Michael likes to lay out in the sun while Geoff and Jack garden and tend to the animals. Michael eventually explains his story. He was a kid abandoned in the wounds, around 12-13. He was lost and starving. And the dogs, for whatever reason, took a liking to him. His english isn’t great and he can’t read but Ryan is patient and teaches him, giving him books and such. Eventually Gavin sits in on these lessons, while having been taught a bit (like the alphabet and his name) He doesn’t know how to read and gets jealous when Michael reads outloud or writes. -- Jack often receives gifts from his Dragons, usually shiny things stolen from distant lands. Jack and the kid the dragons bring him. The dragon decides the little princey boy, covered in gold, purple, and orange, is his now. And by extension, Jacks. The prince was furious. Unable to break free of the dragon that had snached him off his balconey he shouted and punched the monsters huge talons. He slowly became more and more terrified, clinging to the Dragons talons as they flew over the kingdom, and farther and farther from his home. Jack was kneeling in the garden, plucking fresh carrots. Distantly he heard the flap of one of his larger dragons coming home, he looked up and saw something in its claws, it was purple and orange and yelling. Then when the dragon drops the fancy boy in front of Jack, right outside of the garden. Jack stands curiously, the man is very fancily dressed and the Dragon is holding him down as he weakly fights. The prince is PISSED. Jack is like SHRUG you aint no prince here, the yelling gets the attention of Ryan and Geoff who come to see the fuss, Michael not far behind Jeremy is tired, he mentions he was carried for a couple days. He’s hungry and thirsty, Jack offers him food and water and after a moment, he takes it. Stuffing his face. The Dragon has gifted Jeremy to Jack and rejecting the gift would probably not be great. Jeremy wakes up in a bed he doesn’t know, groaning he sits up, he’s a room full of other beds. Someone else is there, mixing something. “Ah, morning.” He’s got a deep voice, similar to the bearded man, yet different. “Where- who are you?” “I’m Ryan. How are you feeling? We treated your scratches and claw marks.” “Sore, hungry.” He grumbles, sitting up. “Easy there, don't hurt yourself.” “I want to go home.” “We don’t know where that is. We live far from any civilization and don't often go across the mountains. Jack could try and help you but-” Jack does try to figure out where the boy came from, but can’t. He spends two years mapping out the area beyond the mountains on dragon back, clearly guilty. Jeremy tries to stay positive but he actually starts to like living there. He’s got siblings to take the throne. He doesn’t talk to Jack about staying until he and Ryan are deep in the mines and Ryan opens up about being an ex king, and how his kingdom fell into ruin. Jack winds up adopting him. Into the family. Matt is a dragon slayer, with many misconceptions about how dragons are. Matt is a knight of Jeremys and one of his best friends, he is searching for his prince when he gets snached as well while crossing the mountains. He gets dumped, unconscious due to hypothermia and other issues. On his way through he meets an Iron golem, Trevor, who got lost during a blizzard Trevor knows the human is hurt, and cold. So he carries him to a cage and holds him until he starts to wake. Matt and Trevor. Trevor doesn’t understand. He pets the friendly dragon, while Matt suddenly jumps up, grabbing his sword. “TREVOR GET AWAY!” “Why?” “That- that’s the dragon!” “This is the dragon? The dragon that stole your prince?” Matt can barely keep his arms up. “Yes.” Matt collapses and Trevor recognizes hurt, darting forwards to lift him, Trevor stares at the dragon, who’s sweetly confused. “Can you help him?” The Dragon tilts it’s head, then nods. Trevor wraps up Matt and holds him against his chest while they ride the dragon. Jeremy is really happy to see Matt again. -- Alfredo got a lot lost in the mines while down there, finally managed to get out, only to be chased up a tree by the feral Michael. Ryan Stares for a long moment at the spooked boy in the tree, before looking at his boy Michael beside him, who looked very proud of himself for, er, trapping the threat. “Where are you from?” “T-he coast!” “The coast?” Ryan says it more to himself. “We’re miles from the coast, we’re in the mountains.” “And i'm in a fucking tree!” “Sorry about that, Michael is a bit of a, dog.” Ryan rests his hand on Michael's head. “You can come down, alright? We’re not going to hurt you.” “Really? Because ‘Michael’ Sure sounded ready to kill me!” “He’s not gonna hurt you, as long as you don’t attack him, or me.” Alfredo tries to get down, but panics. “Actually, i think i’m okay up here!” “Are…. are you stuck?” “....No?” “For- alright.” He drops his bag beside Michael, who looks at him with confusion. Ryan lifts himself into the tree and sits beside Alfredo. “C’mon.” -- Ryan catches Michael trying to walk while watching Jeremy and Gavin run around in the distance and teaches him how to properly walk on two feet. Michael stares from behind the tree and the two other lads run around the clearing. He can do this, he’s human, more so than gavin, even! All he has to do is plant his feet on the ground. He leans against the tree as he balances on the balls of his bare feet. He can’t stand on his own, without the tree. It feels so strange. “What are you doing?” Ryan says in amusement finally. Michael jumps, dropping down to all fours and turning to Ryan. “Nothing!” “C’mere, i’ll help you.” Ryan holds Michaels hands and helps him stand, patiently explaining where to put his weight and standing until Michael can’t keep his back up like that. Ryan is a gentle mentor to michael and it’s great. Gavin and michael Gavin sitting in a tree teasing Michael, who’s at the base of the tree ‘angry’. -- Jack and Lindsey While Jack is collecting stuff from the could islands he meets a fiery harpy. “Oh, hello.” Jack says with a cocked eyebrow, slowly reaching for his bow. He’d delt with harpies before and prefered not to see them. He thought that he was far enough away from their territory that they didn’t come around here. Guess he was wrong. The women tilted her head at him. “Hey, your the dragon warlock, right?” “Er, i guess-” “Cool! Hey, can you tell your dragons to stop laying eggs in my nest?” she practically manifests a massive blue egg, “I have like, three baby dragons and while they’re quite cute and i love them, i don’t want any more.” Jack turns to his Obsidian dragon. “SO THAT’S WHERE YOUR EGGS HAVE BEEN GOING!” Lindsey flies with her babies to Achievement city, two redstones and a glowstone. “These are my sons, T, P, and L.” “They’re all females.” Michael is just like UHHH PRETTY BIRD LADY?

#Long post #lots of words #achievement hunter au #achievement hunter Minecraft au #goat writes

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sammysdewysensitiveeyes · 5 years

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The Many Deaths of Fabian Cortez

Once again, @thecorteztwins inspired me to write something stupid about Fabian, featuring his many deaths and resurrections on Krakoa as he annoys every woman on the island.

Warnings for the usual level of Fabian-style sexual harassment and groping. A couple of the deaths are gruesome, but nothing described in much detail. One of the deaths got a little more angsty than funny, sorry about that. Also sorry for any continuity mishaps, I’m not familiar with a few of the characters in here. I characterized Chrome and Delgado based on thecorteztwin’s headcanons for the personalities. Under a read-more, because this sucker wound up long.

The first time it happened was when Fabian made the monumental mistake of flirting with Selene. He’d already been trying his luck (meaning “pestering and in some cases straight- up assaulting”) with some of the gentler, less violent mutants. Dr. Cecilia Reyes simply covered her body with a forcefield when he attempted to grope her, then pushed him aside when he persisted. Wallflower used her pheromones to induce a jolt of fear that sent him scurrying away. Sooraya shifted into a cloud of dust and reformed on the other side of the island after Fabian commented that it was a waste for a beautiful woman like her to cover herself completely (Icarus promptly punched Fabian in the nose to “discourage” him from trying again). Meggan played dumb blonde and asked Fabian to explain, several times, what exactly he meant by “Does the carpet match the drapes?” She finally flew off when he failed to recognize the obvious brush-off.

So Fabian was brimming with unearned confidence – because the women’s non-homicidal attempts to rebuff him had been, in his mind, “playing hard to get” – when he decided to approach the former Black Queen.

“Well, it’s your funeral, man,” Dominic said, lifting a beer as if to toast him.

“Because she’ll literally fuck me to death, you mean? Not to worry! I’ve got incredible stamina and a very healthy heart.”

“Don’t listen to him, mate, go for it. Tell her about how you’re the ‘true pinnacle of homo-superior,’ she’ll be real impressed.” St. John couldn’t finish the sentence without snickering.

“It…seems like a bad idea,” said Simon nervously. He hadn’t really intended to fall in with the bad guys, especially since he’d been trying to prove himself as an X-Man, but the original Pyro had immediately glommed onto him with a pushy, aggressive friendliness. And he supposed they weren’t really doing anything wrong just sitting around drinking and swapping stories. It was better than awkward run-ins with Iceman, who was trying to pretend that the two of them hadn’t banged.

“Shush, Baby Pyro. Let the man do his thing,” St. John said, tossing back another Jack and Coke.

“Please don’t call me that,” Simon muttered.

“Yes, I shall now ‘do my thing,’ as you so eloquently put it. Try not to eat your own hearts out with jealousy when she falls into my arms,” Fabian said as he swaggered off.

“She’s gonna eat his heart. Literally,” Dominic grunted. “Why are you even encouraging this, Johnny?”

“Because it’ll be hilarious, and there’s fuck all to do on this island. I’m about ready to start writing again, I’m so bored.”

“Ugh, don’t expect me to help edit if you’re gonna start in with more of that Harlequin romance crap –“

“You are literally the last person I’d ask to help edit, you illiterate wanker – “

“Hey guys, I think he’s making his move.” Simon pointed across the way, interrupting the quarrel. (Simon had already recognized that original Pyro and Avalanche bickered like an old married couple, and drawn his own conclusions about that.) Fabian was trying to casually lean against a tree while chatting up Selene, but had misjudged the distance, and was now stuck in a weird diagonal slant. He made a vain attempt to compensate by pushing off the tree in a series of awkward, one-handed push-ups, while flexing his other arm. Selene stood with her arms crossed like a very sexy, very terrifying statue.

“This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen,” Dominic snorted.

“This is bloody brilliant, it is. I’m absolutely putting this in my next book.”

“It’s gonna be a comedy, then?”

Fabian had stopped the push-ups, and was now gesturing at Selene, then back at himself. He ran a hand down his chest and abdomen in what he probably assumed was an alluring manner. Selene hadn’t moved, but something in her posture seemed tenser than before. Simon thought he could see a vein standing out in her forehead.

“Wish we could actually hear him,” St. John remarked.

“I like him better when he’s out of earshot,” Dominic responded.

“You almost gotta admire him, in a way, haven’t ya? I mean, the sheer bollocks on the man to walk up to the Black Queen and try to put the moves on her. Most men’s dicks would just shrivel up in fear.”

“Is it really brave if he’s too stupid to be scared?” Dominic crushed his empty beer can and pulled out two more, tossing one across to Simon.

“Yeah,” Simon put in. “It’s kinda like jumping the fence at the zoo and trying to pet a lion.” The sense of camaraderie was making him feel more at ease. The alcohol helped, too.

“See, Other Pryo agrees with me.”

“Please don’t call me that, either.”

Across the way, Fabian gestured again at Selene, then cupped his hands and twisted them around in an obviously lewd gesture. Selene finally broke her stance, grabbing Fabian by the front of his shirt and pulling him forward into a passionate kiss.

There was a collective gasp from the three mutants watching.

Then, a dark energy crackled over the two embracing. Fabian’s eyes widened in fear, and he attempted to pull away, but Selene put her hands on the back of his head and forced his mouth down onto hers. The blackness rippled across Fabian, then drained into Selene, who seemed to stand taller and stronger while Fabian’s muscular body withered in her arms. Soon there was nothing left but a desiccated corpse, which Selene contemptuously tossed aside, wiping her mouth and looking like she’d just enjoyed a full meal.

“Alright, Dom and Baby Pryo. You’re both right. The tosser is just too dumb to live,” St. John conceded.

The second incident showed that Fabian had not learned any kind of lesson at all from his experience with Selene, as he decided to proposition Mystique. The exotic blue skin, contrasting with her fiery red hair and revealing white costume – how could any man resist? And why would she dress in such a way if she didn’t long for male attention? Her cold, aloof temperament added to the appeal, with an exciting hint of danger. (Of course, for most would-be suitors, it was significantly more than a “hint” of danger. But Fabian was never one to notice things that didn’t fit into his world view. As far as he was concerned, she only needed the right man – himself – and she would melt into his arms like a delicate snowflake.)

She presented a particularly dangerous picture as Fabian approached, cleaning and oiling the guns that she had spread along the table. Sitting across from her, Toad was absorbed in his Nintendo Switch, waiting for her to finish so that they could start planning the next mission. He’d earned some downtime, and was determined to get in a little practice so that Doug Ramsey wouldn’t destroy him at the next Smash Brothers game. Again.

“Mystique. Why is a beautiful woman like yourself doing such base manual labor?” Fabian slid into the seat next to her. “Why not leave it to him?” He gestured across the table at Toad, who briefly looked up from his game to scowl back.

“No one touches my guns except me.” Mystique did not look up from her work. “What do you want, Cortez?”

“Just to spend a little time with you, so that we could get to know each other better.”

“If you don’t have anything interesting to say then stop wasting my time.”

“I have many, many interesting things to say to you. But perhaps it would be easier if we had some privacy. If the third wheel sitting across from us would possibly take a hint?”

“Stay, Toad,” Mystique insisted.

Toad nodded. He wasn’t really paying attention to the game anymore, as he couldn’t resist sneaking up glances to watch Cortez be inevitably put in his place. He felt a little bad about it – indulging in that kind of schadenfreude was an unhealthy habit of his from back in the early days of the Brotherhood. He had so desperately wanted Magneto to love him, and he’d spent so much of his life as the unwanted, outcast butt of every joke. It gave him a thrill of glee to see someone else get in trouble for once.

“If that is your wish, Mystique, I will allow it. But you may prefer that we move this someplace more private once the conversation becomes more….intimate.” He reached out to brush a hand against Mystique’s cheek, and she jerked away, looking up at him for the first time.

“What is this actually about, Cortez? Do you have information or some kind of plan in mind? I know you’re a devious little shit and I can respect that, but cut to the chase.”

“Very direct! I like it. I love it when a woman takes charge.” At least as long as her “taking charge” happened to coincide directly with Fabian’s own desires and fantasies. “My ‘plan,’ as you so delightfully put it, is simple. You. Me. Enjoying each other’s bodies and experiencing pleasure that you couldn’t possibly imagine. We could find a bedroom, or a secluded spot on the beach –“

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Mystique snapped. “I thought you had something I could use, but you’re just hitting on me?”

“And why not?” Fabian stood up, spreading his arms wide to better show off his muscular chest. “Am I not incredibly attractive?”

“You’re making a huge mistake,” Toad warned, now openly watching the scene with his chin resting on one hand. “I’d back off while you still can.”

“I didn’t ask you,” Fabian said coldly. “And pull your tongue back into your mouth, you repulsive creature. She’s probably too disgusted by the sight of you to respond to my advances.”

Toad slurped his tongue back up out of sight, tucking the excess into his cheek, which now burned with embarrassment. The long tongue had been a later mutation, and he’d never quite gotten used to it. Keeping it all inside made his mouth feel uncomfortably full, and it often lolled out without his noticing. But he was all too aware that others found it disgusting.

“You’re far more repulsive than Toad could ever be,” Mystique said, standing up to face Fabian with her arms crossed. Toad felt a small spot of warmth blossom in his chest. He certainly didn’t feel bad anymore about watching Fabian get what was coming to him.

“Understand, because I’ll only say this once,” Mystique continued. “I am not, and will never be attracted to you. I do not desire you or your company in any way – sexually, romantically, platonically. Do not speak to me again unless you have something relevant to say.”

Fabian seemed taken aback for a moment, then he grinned.

“So, you’re saying that you’re only going to refuse me once? I get it, you like a man who persists, who makes you feel that you are worth fighting for. I won’t make you say it again.” He put his hands on her shoulders and leaned in for a kiss. His lips never touched hers – instead, Mystique’s hands moved rapidly, and there was a sharp cracking sound as Fabian’s head wound up facing the wrong way on his body. He dropped to the floor. The whole thing happened too quickly for him to even register surprise, so his now slack face, with eyes glazed over, still held some hint of hopeful anticipation.

“Wow, that was…sudden,” Toad muttered, his tongue slipping out again. Mystique just looked at him, one eyebrow raised.

Toad shrugged back at her. “I mean, you did warn him.”

“If anyone asks, he tried to take one of the guns.” Mystique was absolutely not in the mood for an Xavier lecture, it was even worse than a Magneto lecture.

“Agreed.” Toad nodded.

The third time, Fabian made what he believed was an entirely innocent gesture. He saw a lovely ass, barely covered in tight black booty shorts, and he gave it the playful slap that such an ass invited.

Obviously, his first mistake was in assuming that clothing was an invitation for touching, and that he had a right to put his hands on anyone’s body.

His second, and ultimately more important mistake, was that the ass in question belonged to Illyana Rasputin.

Illyana whirled around at the touch, and her eyes narrowed. Whatever pick-up lines Fabian had planned shriveled and died on his tongue as her piercing blue eyes seemed to stare directly into his soul. A chill ran through his entire body, and he shuddered involuntarily. For once, Fabian was immediately aware that he had gotten in over his head. This was no woman, it was a demon wrapped in a beautiful body, meant to lure in innocent men like him.

The she-demon reached out a hand, and said a single word.

“Limbo.”

The word seemed to echo in Fabian’s ears as the ground melted away below his feet, and he dropped into a glowing circle.

Later, Illyana would claim that she had only intended to teleport him across the island, far away from her. It was a complete mistake that Fabian had somehow wound up stranded in Limbo, and torn apart by demons. And hey, that wasn’t her fault, right?

The fourth time, Fabian had retreated back to familiar ground – his own beloved Acolytes. He’d led the group for so long, and served under Exodus (despite the man being painfully unfit and incompetent), so surely they’d all welcome him with open arms. And there was his own dear sister, resurrected at last.

Unfortunately, Anne Marie was a bit miffed at him for the events that had led up to her death, which Fabian thought was rather unreasonable. It was so long ago, Fabian could barely even remember it. Who could really say anymore who betrayed who, or who caused Asteroid M to crash? The important thing was that it all ultimately came down to Magneto’s poor leadership. Anne Marie didn’t quite see it that way. She directed an icy glare at him whenever he ventured into the compound that most of the resurrected Acolytes had chosen to share.

“Anne Marie, have I mentioned recently how happy I am to see you returned to us?”

“Chrome, please tell my brother that I am not speaking with him.”

“Fabian, Anne Marie says – “ Chrome began in a deadpan.

“Yes, yes, I heard her,” Fabian hissed. His sister’s stubborn hostility hurt him more than he expected, although he was used to her being childish and willful, having grown up together. He hadn’t actually intended for her to die all those years ago; he hadn’t imagined she’d be so stubborn as to stay by Magneto’s side until the end.

“Look, Anne Marie, things were complicated back then. I had a plan –“

“Chrome, please tell my brother to stop making excuses for his despicable betrayal of Lord Magneto.”

“Fabian, Anne Marie says –“

“Chrome, why are you participating in this immature nonsense?” Fabian snapped.

“Because it amuses me, and I like her better than you.” Chrome was blunt as always.

“Fine,” Fabian sighed. “But let me remind everyone that we’ve all been reborn on this island to start fresh, all sins forgiven. Why don’t we let the past stay in the past? I mean, I’ve died several times now, I don’t know why you’re all making such a big deal out of it. And Magneto is alive, anyway. He’s alive and thriving, so no harm done.”

“Disagree,” Delgado muttered, from the corner by the window. He was staring longingly out at the trees and sunshine, but unwilling to leave his team-mates alone with this snake.

“Why are you even here, Cortez? Are you recruiting for your stupid harem again, or are you going to try to replace Exodus. Because you must know neither of those things are ever going to happen,” Frenzy spoke up from the table, where she and Unuscione were splitting a bottle of wine.

“You say ‘start fresh,’ but you’re the same as ever,” Unuscione added. “You never change, Cortez.”

“Why should I change when I am so magnificent? Perfection itself!” Fabian exclaimed, although his enthusiasm withered a little under his sister’s glare.

“I have rarely met anyone so completely and utterly wrong,” Chrome snorted. Fabian paid him the generous favor of ignoring him.

“Rest assured, I am not here to reclaim my rightful place of leadership. Although I’m not sure why you all wouldn’t want that. Someone has to take charge. Magneto is running the island with Xavier, and Exodus has abandoned you all to go tell stories to children.”

“So, it’s the harem, thing, then?” demanded Frenzy. “It’s always one or the other.”

“My friends, can’t I just visit you all out of the goodness of my heart?”

‘That has never happened,” Chrome pointed out.

“Ever,” Delgado added, quite unnecessarily, Fabian thought.

“Loooook,’ he adopted a soothing tone. “I just think that we should all start thinking about the future. After all, we’re going to be living out our lives here. And eventually, we’ll no doubt start forming family units. It’s only natural. And one of the rules of Krakoa is to make more mutants, after all.”

“Wow, there it is,” put in Unuscione. “I knew you’d get there eventually.”

“I think we need to sort this out early, so that it doesn’t get…messy later on,” Fabian continued. “After all, I’m only one man, and there are only so many hours in the day. We don’t want fights breaking out.”

“Oh my god, will you just leave?” Frenzy exclaimed. “We don’t want you around.”

“Now, now, don’t get excited. I know you deny your feelings because you don’t think you’re worthy, but I assure you, I find you extremely worthy. You and Unuscione both.”

Unuscione jumped up from the table at this point, forcefield spreading across her body, but Frenzy put an arm in front of her.

“The other mutants already think we’re violent trouble makers,” she said. “Let’s not prove them right.”

“Yeah, but….it’s Fabian.” Unuscione gestured at Cortez as if his very existence explained everything.

“I know. Let’s finish this wine and then go burn him in effigy.”

“I like the way you think.”

“So……” Fabian folded his arms, giving a long-suffering sigh. “No one is willing to help propogate the mutant race with me, despite my obvious superiority in all respects? And all because you’re all holding a grudge over a few tiny little mistakes in the past, that weren’t even really mistakes, just part of a long-term plan – “

Fabian was interrupted by a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. He heard Delgado call out his sister’s name, and whirled around. He didn’t quite complete the turn, as the wine bottle was snatched up off the table and shattered against his temple.

Fabian collapsed amid a spray of red wine and broken glass. His vision rapidly fading, he looked up to see his sister standing over him, holding the end of the broken bottle, her face contorted with rage.

“You are not forgiven,’ she whispered, and then both sight and sound faded as he slipped away.

“Hey, we were drinking that,” said Frenzy, although her annoyance faded as she looked up to see Anne Marie starting to shake, tears spilling out of her eyes as she dropped the bottle. “Um, hey….you okay, hon?”

“It’s okay, Anne. He had it coming. And they’ll just bring him back next ceremony anyway,” Unuscione said.

“We’ll take it from here,” said Chrome, as he and Delgado came to stand on either side of Anne Marie, gently taking her arms. She looked at both of them with a dazed expression, and then down again at her brother, the tears continuing to drip down her cheeks.

“Come with us, Anne Marie. Outside. You’ll feel better,” said Delgado. The two former Acolytes led Anne Marie outside, and they sat together for a long time under the trees, quietly watching the birds

The fifth time it happened, Fabian had learned a few lessons, and decided to approach some meek, sweet-natured mutants again. Which is why he was sitting next to Marie-Ange Colbert, the former Hellion known as Tarot, with his arm draped presumptuously around her shoulders. The way she seemed to quietly shrink away did not bother him. Obviously she was just shy. The sense of innocence and vulnerability was very attractive. Someone sweet and kind was exactly what he needed after the pain of his sister’s betrayal. He couldn’t get Anne Marie’s face out of his mind, so twisted with hatred. He shoved the image aside, and focused on the beautiful girl in front of him.

“I’m sorry, Monsieur Cortez, but our destinies are not in any way entwined. The cards are not favorable,” Tarot said. She attempted to shrug off his arm, but he pulled her in closer.

“Your superstitions are adorable, my dear girl,” he purred. She seemed so lovely and pliant. He’d tried approaching the exotic one with the tail and lavender hair, but she’d hissed at him in a way that was really unbecoming, then run off into the woods. “But we mustn’t let them stand in the way of true love. Imagine the possibilities of the two of us together!”

Tarot turned slightly green as she unintentionally imagined it.

“Hey, that’s enough. She’s not interested, and you need to take your hands off her. Now.” James Proudstar stood in front of the pair, scowling down at Fabian. Although he no longer considered himself a proper “Hellion,” he still felt some responsibility to watch over his resurrected team-mates on Krakoa. His fierce expression and massive bulk would make anyone with common sense hesitate – but Fabian was not known for his common sense.

“We are having a private conversation,” he said smugly. “If the lady is not interested, she can tell me that herself.”

“I’m not.” Marie said firmly.

“My dear, you play hard to get. Why don’t you say it like you really mean it?”

“She’s not interested. Now back off.” Jetstream joined his team-mate towering over the pair. Two other Hellions – the muscular Beef and electro-powered Bevatron came up behind them in a show of support.

Sitting off to one side, Empath watched the proceedings with a quiet smirk, enjoying simply being able to watch things again. On Krakoa he’d fallen in with his formerly deceased team-mates largely out of familiarity. Given that people like Selene, Mr. Sinister and Apocalypse had been invited to the island, his own comparatively minor crimes were largely forgotten. He hadn’t really changed at his core – he was still a cruel, narcissistic bastard who enjoyed the suffering of others. But his time spent blind had humbled him and taught him an important lesson – to shut up and stay under the radar. It was nice to see the group united in hating someone that wasn’t him.

“And what will you do if I don’t, as you so crudely put it, ‘back off’? There is a proscription against violence on this island, as you all well know.”

“No, the rule is we’re not allowed to kill humans,” James corrected. “Mutants can always be brought back.” Manuel nodded in agreement. Amara had burned him to ash a couple of times before declaring a kind of “truce” in which he agreed to never speak to her again and she agreed to stop killing him.

“Yes, yes, but we are discouraged from starting meaningless fights,” Fabian pressed. “We don’t want to disrespect the island by wasting precious resources.” Mutants killing mutants wasn’t technically against the rules, but the killer had to explain their reasons. A mutant who killed too frequently and easily would be put in a brief “time-out”: imprisoned within the island itself like the mutants who killed humans, but for a much shorter time. They had to have some deterrent, or else old grudges, plus the villains living among them, plus the cathartic ability to murder without consequences would quickly turn the island into a bloodbath.

“That doesn’t seem to stop you from getting killed. Over and over again,” Haroun pointed out. “Even more than de la Rocha, somehow.”

“Yes, we are getting really tired of watching you come back in the resurrection ceremony,” Bevatron agreed. “It is supposed to be a sacred ritual. It kind of – how you say? – ruins the magic.”

“We’re all gonna have to watch it again if he doesn’t take his arm off Tarot right now,” Beef said, cracking his knuckles ominously.

“Are you all really threatening me?” Fabian sputtered self-righteously. “Just because I dare to love?”

“There is no love!” Tarot finally snapped, flinging his arm aside and standing up, putting some distance between them. “I want you to leave me alone. Right now.”

“My poor, dear girl. You are confused by your team-mates’ lack of respect and understanding.”

“She’s not confused, she’s rejecting you. Take a hint, jerk.” Roulette walked up to join the group glowering down at Fabian. She had waves of blond hair and fuller curves than the slim Tarot, and Fabian felt his desire stir for this one as well. So many worthy mutant women on the island. The fact that he didn’t have a harem assembled already was proof that the universe was a cold, indifferent place with no sense of justice. And certainly not because he was doing anything wrong. Anne Marie’s face flashed up again, and he shook his head to clear it, gazing again at the blond.

“Such harsh words from such a lovely vision of a woman. Don’t be jealous, there is room in Fabian’s heart for both of you.”

“That’s it –“ Beef started to step forward, but Roulette put a hand against his chest.

“No need to start a fight,” she said, summoning a glowing black disc into her hand. “We’ll just give this ass a healthy dose of bad luck to encourage him to back off.” She tossed the disc at Fabian, who attempted to catch it, only to have it disappear within his hand.

“Sorry, was that supposed to harm me in some way?” Fabian scoffed. He stood up, arms extended. “As you can see, I’m fi-“

He was cut off as he stepped on the end of his cape, and staggered backward, falling over the bench that he and Tarot had been sitting on. As his feet kicked up, one of his boots flew up into the air, hitting a tree branch that had been weakened by rot. The branch came crashing down. Fabian gasped and rolled away at the last second. Unfortunately, his trajectory took him right across a nest of fire ants, and he had only a moment’s respite before they came boiling out of the ground, stinging enthusiastically. He leaped to his feet, shrieking and batting at his clothing, running in a blind panic. His cape snagged on a tree branch, and yanked him back off his feet, his head slamming down on a rock. Then everything was quiet for a moment, Fabian limp and still on the ground.

Jenny burst out laughing, while Tarot had her hands clasped over her mouth in shock. James walked over and gingerly nudged Fabian with his foot.

“Wow, Jenny, you killed him.”

“Oh my god, I didn’t mean….” Jenny gasped between bouts of laughter. “I mean, that was amazing, but I really didn’t mean to kill him. But that was amazing, wasn’t it?”

“Oh dear,” Tarot sighed. “We will have to explain this.”

“Ugh, I don’t want another Xavier lecture. He’s such a self-righteous prick,” Jenny scowled. Then her eyes fell on Fabian’s discarded boot, and she began laughing again.

“I’m sorry guys, it’s just…it was like a cartoon. Totally worth it.”

“It was an accident,” Haroun asserted. “We all saw it. You were just trying to drive him away and protect Marie. We’ll back you up.”

“Don’t worry, Roulette, I caught it all on video,” Empath announced, pressing a few buttons on his phone. “Aaaaaaaand it’s up on Youtube now.”

“Manuel, no!” James scolded.

“Manuel, yes!” Haroun countered. “Let the whole internet see that bastard’s humiliation!”

“Hey, look at all the hits already! This is going viral, Jenny,” Manuel said, turning the phone towards her.

“Oh wow! I’m gonna be a Youtube star! We’ve gotta find a way to monetize this!” Jenny gushed.

Meanwhile, deep in the forest, oblivious to the recent events, a lavender cat and a russet wolf slept curled up against each other in a contented pile of fur.

The sixth time, Fabian didn’t even manage to stay alive for ten minutes. He noticed, as he came out of the pod naked and dripping, that many of his fellow Upstarts seemed to be getting brought back at the same time.

“What happened to you?” he demanded of Shinobi Shaw, who was facing the crowd with no shame about his nudity. Probably enjoyed giving them a show (and flashing his own father), as did Fabian himself. One silver lining of his frequent deaths was that the mutants gathered for the ceremony got to see his glorious physical perfection.

“Orgy went wrong,” Shinobi said with a smirk. “Never try to have an orgy in a cave that floods at high tide.”

“You couldn’t just leave? Also, why did no one invite me?”

“We were way too involved to just get up and leave when the tides started coming in. Some people were in very elaborate restraints. Including me. Also, we were all pretty wasted. We’re the whole reason Storm is giving a speech right now about being responsible and how our lives are precious resources not to be wasted. Blah, blah blah.” Most people would be embarrassed about drowning in a drunken orgy, but Shinobi seemed to hold it as a badge of honor.

“Why wasn’t I invited?” Fabian demanded again. “I mean, look at me!”

“It was just kind of a small-scale thing, really,” Shinobi began, as more mutants emerged from the pods. “Just a few of us.”

“Wait, are those the Marauders?” Fabian asked, looking at the newly resurrected mutants. “Did you invite the Marauders and not me?”

“Oh, no,” Shinobi assured him glibly. “I’m sure they all died at the same time for unrelated reasons. Sinister’s always cloning them, anyway, he probably just wanted an upgrade.”

“Hey, Shinobi! Great orgy!” Riptide waved from across the way. “You are absolutely the blow job king, my friend, I concede the title.”

“Okay, maybe a few Marauders got invited. C’mon, some of them are pretty hot.”

“Shinobi, loved the orgy,” called Arclight. “Let’s do it somewhere less lethal next time.”

“Nah, it’s not a good orgy unless a few people die,” put in Scalphunter. “Makes it more exciting.”

“Are you kidding me?” Fabian exclaimed. “All of the Marauders and not me? Have you not seen this?” He gestured down at his crotch.

“Oh, I’ve seen it.” Shinobi smirked again, not even having the decency to look sheepish for all his lies. “It’s very impressive, but women don’t seem to like the way you use it. And you don’t seem willing to let me touch it.”

“I don’t swing that way,” Fabian said, although an image of Quicksilver popped up in his head for some bizarre reason. “And what do you mean women don’t like the way I use it?”

“Let’s just say I’ve…heard some complaints,” Shinobi said.

“Okay, you know what? Let’s do this whole orgy thing over again,” Fabian declared. Seeing the nude women around him was already sending blood down to a certain area, and lust was amplified by a frustrated anger. “We’re already naked, let’s start now. And then we’ll see who has complaints!”

“Much as I love the idea of giving the crowd a show, I think you’re jumping the gun a little here, Cortez,” Shinobi said as Fabian marched over to the nearest pod where a woman was emerging. He pulled her up against his body, and found himself staring into the eyes of Siena Blaze.

“Heard I missed the orgy. I’m sure you were incredibly disappointed. Let me make it up to you, right now.”

“Let go of me, Cortez,” Blaze ordered, trying to pull out of his grip. He held her closer.

“Don’t be shy. We’ll give the crowd a show they’ll never forget.”

“-look well, mutants. Once again, your own have been brought back to you. See them and rejoice, for – oh, by the Goddess!” Storm exclaimed, as her speech was interrupted by a piercing scream and a muffled explosion. She looked over to see Siena Blaze, her hands smoking, standing over a bloody splatter that had formerly been Fabian Cortez.

“Um, sorry….” She shrugged. “He grabbed my ass.”

“Fine,” Storm groaned. “Stand with your fellow mutants and let the ceremony continue.”

“Okay. Oh, hey, Shinobi! Great orgy!”

“We have to do something about this. It isn’t just the waste of resources, it’s the message we’re sending. People can’t just kill each other with impunity.” Magneto had come to consult with Xavier about the “Cortez” problem. All of his killers had been subject to investigation and some minor punishment, but the pattern seemed to suggest that Cortez himself was the problem. “Maybe we just shouldn’t bother bringing him back. The man is a snake. I should know.”

“Unacceptable,” Xavier responded calmly. “All mutant life is precious. We will waste none of it.”

“The man is a disruption.”

“He’s followed the rules so far. There are far worse people living on Krakoa than Fabian Cortez. We must treat him fairly. And I must admit, his eagerness to breed is very in line with our goals here, if he could just find a willing partner.”

“But we can’t let this ridiculous cycle of death and rebirth continue, can we? Maybe a time-out in the earth for awhile.”

Xavier leaned forward with a cryptic smile. “I believe I have a solution. And it will require only a minor psychic tweak at his next resurrection.”

At the resurrection ceremony, Fabian Cortez emerged from the pod for the seventh time in a month.

“What is your name,” Storm asked him, quietly praying he would last longer than ten minutes this time. It was all getting very repetitive.

“Fabian Cortez.”

“And how do I know that it’s you, Fabian?”

“Who else could possibly measure up to my greatness?”

“It’s you,” Storm sighed. She presented him to the crowd, which responded with muted applause, mostly from younger mutants who hadn’t met him yet.

As Fabian stood to one side while the other, much less important mutants returned from the dead, boredom began to wear on him. He’d been through this so many times, and there was only so much enjoyment he could get out of displaying his body to the crowd. He glanced around, spotting a beautiful young woman next to him with dark skin and flowing black hair. He believed Storm had introduced her to the crowd as Threnody, but he hadn’t really been paying attention. He let his eyes wander appreciatively up and down her body, then sauntered over. No harm in a friendly proposition, especially since they were both already naked. Maybe he’d finally get to participate in an island orgy.

“Hello, beautiful lady. Today is your lucky day, because you get to experience the glory that is Fabian Cortez.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her around to face him. Then his mouth dropped open in shock, because the face starring back at him was his own sister, with her lighter skin and short blue hair.

“Anne Marie, I….how? Why did you look like….I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to….please forgive me…” The idea of hitting on his own sister filled Fabian with revulsion, and even the faintest hint of guilt. He hadn’t forgotten her face after she struck him down. On some level, he was perhaps apologizing for many things at once.

“I’m sorry, what are you talking about? I don’t know any Anne Marie.” His sister pulled away and stepped back, suddenly transforming back into the dark-skinned woman. “My name is Melody. I don’t know you at all.”

“I’m…sorry. I was confused for a moment.” All sorts of odd feelings were twisting around in Fabian’s stomach.

“Fabian!” A voice called from the crowd, and Anne Marie emerged, walking up towards the platform where he stood. “I’m right here.”

“Does this mean we’re on speaking terms again?” Fabian asked hopefully. Anne Marie’s mouth was still set in a hard line, but her eyes had softened a bit since he saw her last.

“Killing you was rather cathartic. I worked some things out of my system. But don’t press your luck, I’m still angry with you. There’s a reason for what you saw. Come with me and Xavier will explain everything.” Storm ignored the entire exchange as Anne Marie pulled Fabian off the stage and walked off with him. He’d come back so many times, it didn’t really matter if he stayed for the entire ceremony.

“Psychic trigger?!” Fabian exclaimed.

“Yes,” Xavier continued. Fabian and Anne Marie were meeting with him in a private room, after Fabian had thankfully been given clothing to wear. “You have been killed multiple times because you are incapable of showing the women on this island the slightest hint of respect. You let your reproductive urges lead you around.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Fabian protested. “We are meant to make more mutants. I want to do exactly that. In fact, I’ll work extremely hard at that task. Can’t you just assign me a few partners?”

“That’s not how we are going to do things here,” Xavier said firmly. “We will not go down the road of forced breeding.”

“It’s worked out okay for the Inhumans,” Fabian tried.

“No, it hasn’t. There’s a streak of instability running through the royal family, people are still born with useless or debilitating powers, and the lack of freedom has the entire society boiling over with repressed emotion. It’s no wonder Black Bolt’s brother manages to organize a coup every other month.”

Fabian shrugged. He couldn’t really argue with that. His encounters with the Inhumans had all been thoroughly unpleasant – especially that obnoxious, back-stabbing lunatic Maximus the Mad. He couldn’t believe he’d ever considered the man a convenient ally. Never again. And he definitely meant it this time.

“So, what….I’m going to see Anne Marie in every woman until I find a willing partner? That seems unfair.”

“It’s entirely fair,” said Anne Marie.

“The illusion will only kick in when you approach a woman with lust and disrespect, as you so often do. When you think of her only as a sex object, and not a separate person with her own needs and desires. Then, the psychic trigger will make her appear as the only woman you care about more than sex – your sister, Anne Marie.”

“B-b-but….how long is this meant to last? What am I to do in the meantime? A man has needs, you know.”

“There are ways to take care of your needs without bothering anyone,” Anne Marie said all too knowingly for Fabian’s tastes.

“It will last until you manage to show respect for a woman that you desire. Until you can put her needs above your own lust, and love her as a person, not a sex toy.”

“Ugh, but that could take yeeeeaaars!” Fabian whined. “So few of them are truly worthy of me.”

“It’s our solution to the disruption you’ve caused on this island. Consider yourself lucky that you are not spending time in the ground, that is much more unpleasant. But we wanted a merciful solution. I will admit, there is some value in your presence, Cortez,” Xavier continued. “Every group that has encountered you seems to have come away with stronger ties of friendship and camaraderie between them. In a way, it seems, you managed to bring people together.”

“Yes, because I have excellent leadership skills,” Fabian agreed. “And people are drawn to my strong charisma.”

“That’s….not exactly the reason why. But nonetheless, your presence has produced some positive affect. With this psychic trigger, hopefully the positive will outweigh the negative.”

Xavier dismissed them rather abruptly. Fabian sulked as he walked beside Anne Marie, heading back towards the Acolytes’ set of rooms.

“Honestly. A psychic trigger. As if I’m a child. Or an animal that must be contained.”

“Well, one part of you certainly is,” Anne Marie muttered. Fabian scoffed.

“Look, try to think of it like a fairy tale. You’re under a curse –“

“Until I find my one true love!” Fabian finished. He rather liked the idea. He was, of course, a handsome prince under a curse from a wicked sorcerer, who was just jealous of his good looks and flowing head of hair.

“Until you learn a lesson. Look, Fabian.” Anne Marie turned to face him. Her face was still stern and set with anger, but he could also see pain – carved into every line on her face. It made him feel….not so good.

“I’m not over what you did. I won’t be for a long time. It hurt. But our Lord Magneto is alive again, and so are we all. And Krakoa really is a place for new beginnings. So maybe you can be better, too. Please try. For me.”

She kissed him softly on the cheek, and walked away.

Notes:

This got slightly more serious than I intended, I just wanted a silly story where people got to kill Fabian in hilarious ways. Oh well. This also turned into an excuse to write a bunch of neglected characters that I like hanging out and occasionally sleeping together. Shinobi is definitely going to try to bang both Pyros at once. He may or may not succeed.

I don’t know all the Marvel women’s ages, but just assume that everyone Fabian hit on was at least 18. He’s a sleaze, but he’s not that much of a sleaze. Also, Meggan was probably just visiting her old Excalibur team-mates, she lives elsewhere with Brian.

#fabian cortez #shinobi shaw #pyro #avalanche #hellions #anne marie cortez #and a bunch of other characters

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reddogf13 · 5 years

Text

Between two Voids ch 3

Pennywise x Beverly

summery: It has been 12 years since Beverly was last in Derry. now 26 years old and returning with her boyfriend she strives for a life of normalcy in the small town. Unaware that a certain stalking creature has awakened much earlier than expected. Looking for a challenge to cure its boredom ,in the now crumbling town, IT aims to uproot her life as much as possible. Yet, is that really such a bad thing given her dark situation hidden from all but the eyes of a world eater?

status: complete

rated: M - fowl language and gore

prev chap: Between two Voids ch 2

next chap: Between two Voids ch 4

_____________________________________

~ch:3 Collapse ~

Beverly was shaking on the floor holding her carved side tightly. Blood seeping out from between her fingers to cover them in a slick red.

"get up!" Erik shouted down at her. She didn't want to, but thinking of the consequences of if she didn't had her standing anyway. Blood oozing out with the moment of the wound spreading open further. She flinched away by another swing of the knife. A reflexive block with her arm preventing a second gash to her chest. Leaving behind a deep gouge over her forearm instead.

The sound of the red liquid hitting the floor in a large amount alarming Beverly. Gut telling her to get away before more blood was forced out of her.

She backed away from him with her uninjured arm reaching to get the bus door open. Erik fiercely approached with knife at the ready. Beverly bashing her side into the door in forcing it open. Falling out backwards when the door flew open under the second slam. Body slamming down, back first, onto the snow. Smearing red across the thin layer of white along the ground.

"you remember this the next time you don't listen!" Erik shouted from the door frame, slamming the metal door shut. Beverly being left alone to bleed on the snowy dirt.

She held her breath to prevent herself from breaking out in hyperventilation. Removing her hand to see the damage to her side. The blood pouring out the moment she raised her hand off the deep wound. Feeling lightheaded at the sight she had to look away. Clamping her hand back on the wound with the other free, but injured, one to help herself up. Looking to where she got up from there were smears of red staining the once white snow. Forming a twisted version of red snow angels.

"shit, I need stitches or gauze." she spoke with a heavy swallow. Wanting to go to a hospital, but aside from being too far she didn't want attention on herself.

"it's late, there won't be too many people around town." she thought. Holding tightly onto her side in the hopes of lasting long enough to make it to town.

By the time she did make it she had been fighting off the blurry vision. Stumbling more over actually walking down the back alleys to avoid being seen. Stopping against the wall of the rite aid to catch her breath. Back leaning against the cold brick wall with her eyes toward the sky. Seeing more stars appear with the final retreat of the sun.

"please be open." Using the wall for some support down to the front of the store. Breathing out a frustrated sigh at seeing the store dark. "of course. Always closes early for some stupid reason." Turning her head toward the back door exit, hell bent on getting in somehow. If there was one good thing about this small town, its not having to worry about alarms.

She supported herself the best she could to bash down the door with a kick. Knocking it loose from the doors lock it swung wide open with a bang against the wall. Her body locking up alongside the wave of sharp pain rushing over her body. Taking a knee to keep from blacking out in pain. Coughing heavily into her free hand with desperate gasps of air. The other smashing down on the seeping wound to keep more blood from leaking out her side.

Wheezing in a few breaths she rose back up to stumble through the broken door. Entering the pitch black building without need to turn on the lights. Going by memory of the place to move around. Unintentionally leaving a trail of blood behind her steps across the tiles. Smearing more blood onto the walls she used for support. Sneaking down the aisles until she found all the medical supplies she needed. Sitting down with the materials to the side in preparation of shutting her wounds.

Cleaning the area with alcohol, stitching everything up, finishing off with thick gauze wrappings. A sigh of relief leaving her at finishing the first aid. Calming down inside the aisle to stop her adrenaline fueled shaking. The shivering lessening for her to feel confident enough to stand again. Walking over to grab a few drinks from the fridge to chug down.

Sitting down against the fridge to relax a little while longer in the calming darkness. The only sound in the environment coming from the fridges. The two coolers blue neon lights shining across the aisle they were in. Beverly sitting to the side of them having the neon light avoiding her. She sat back up from her leaning. Feeling she was getting far too comfortable for her own good.

"I'll be screwed if I fall asleep inside a store I broke into." she mumbled. Feeling sicker when on her feet she sat right back down. Swallowing down the spit building inside her mouth on the verge of vomiting.

"yet, maybe after seeing all the blood around here they'll give me a break." chugging down more cold water from a bottle to settle her stomach. Chugging more after standing again. Slowly heading out the door with great attention on her steps to keep her balance.

Outside the junkyard IT smoothly strolled up the dirt slope from the dried creek. Walking past the rotten fencing to the yards entrance. The strong scent of blood on the wind increasing his pace. Pausing at a blood trail leading to the bus. Inner rage growing when he saw more blood by the bus door. An incredibly large amount that he knew from experience was a serious loss for a human. He stormed toward the bus knowing full well whose blood was upon the ground and who spilt the blood.

He needed to know where she was, now, or if she was even still alive. Aiming for the male in the bus with furious aggression. Ripping the back door off with minimal effort. Scaring Erik off his seat to stand in the middle aisle defensively.

"you! you working with the cops?! Trying to set me up with something else now?!" Erik shouted at him. Pulling the bloodstained knife from his back pocket.

"i only work for me. I need to find someone that you hurt." the clown spoke smoothly with a wavering grin. Eyes burning red at the idiotic human daring to threaten him.

"i aint telling you jack! fuck off!" Erik finishing his sentence just as Pennywise grabbed him, with one hand, by the throat. Raising Erik high until his head hit the buses metal ceiling. IT enjoying the males struggle for air in the choking grasp. The clowns stretched grin dropping as Erik stabbed repeatedly in a wild panic into the arm holding him.

"enough with the knife!" Pennywise growled with rows of sharp teeth bared. Yanking the knife out of his own arm to throw it right through a glass window. The blade giving off a final flickering reflection while flying far out into the darkness.

"where is she?!" he hissed up to the one he was holding.

"i-i w-who?" Erik stuttered out of fear.

"the girl! Where did she go?! Did you kill her?!" IT roared with a shake of the small human.

"no, no! i-i don't know where! Hospital maybe, to get a band aid?!" Erik blurted out.

"hospitals too far, but the pharmacy is not." IT thought. Attention turning off Erik to purely find where Beverly went. With a deep guttural growl, like that of a gator, IT tossed Erik back to land right into the barrel fire. Erik falling down to the floor with the burning contents spilling out around him. Stumbling to get up with a rush to the front sliding doors to escape the growing flames. His jacket only singed with a few holes after the tumbling throw. "shame, he didn't catch on fire." IT turned to the back door. The fire spreading along the bus seats until it engulfed the whole thing in a burning mass of red.

IT made it to the town with notice of a flashing red & blue lights across the main buildings. Passing around the walls through the pitch blackness to spy on the commotion. A police car parked by the pharmacy with officers wandering about in an investigation. Pennywise listening in, unnoticed from the shadows, on the officers conversation.

"think it could have been a drug addict?" one officer shined a flashlight at the buildings doors and through the large front windows. White light going across a reflective pool of blood on the inside. The scent IT caught of the blood across the street aggravating his sense of smell. He hated smelling blood that he couldn't eat.

"no, no real prescription meds missing. lots of blood from someone. First aid medical supplies were used in the aisle with a few drinks taken. No trail leading out anywhere. We'll have to do a patrol for someone walking around while badly hurt. Probably just some drunkard who got in a fight and decided to help himself to some stuff." the other officer spoke.

Pennywise hearing she was not caught went to track down her scent. Shifting down into the form of a large black dog. Moving quickly by, without a thought about his presence from the humans near. Running to the back door in search of a scent. Varying scents of both old and newer blood filling the small alleyway. He ran out to each end of the crossing alleys. Doubling back a few times when finding old scents to nothing at all. Rushing forward at catching a much fresher scent that slowly lead across town.

Elsewhere, Beverly was standing at the edge of a lit street. Facing the pitch black void between her and the junkyard. The way to it was not lit up like every other street. The only other light shining came from a billboard mid walk. She hated being out in the dark enough as it is knowing IT was getting closer each day.

She took her first step from the paved road onto the gravel mixed dirt trail leading off into the black. The night eerily quiet aside from her steps across the gravel. The crunch of small rocks fading with the path turning more to dirt. Hurrying her steps to reach the billboard quicker at the upcoming approach of the advertisement. Slowing back down as she heard a second set of footsteps on the gravel behind her.

She stopped and the other stopped. When she continued so did they.

"don't run." she repeated to herself to stay calm. Hugging herself when her body began to shake. Her being unsure if it was due to fear or the freezing cold. Either way she had to stop her shivering before who ever noticed. Walking past the comforting light available from the billboard to reach the, somewhat, safety of the junkyard. Jumping at a new sound from under her foot.

Without bowing her head she looked down. Seeing her reflection looking back in a broken piece of glass.

"Having broken glass is better than nothing." she thought. Coming low to the ground to sweep up a large shard into her hand. Holding it tightly from building anxiety leaving her hand shaky. An idea of how to catch a glimpse of the follower hiking her anxiety further.

Stepping forward to get far enough that the one walking behind would be in the light. Holding up the large shard of glass slightly to the side to see what was following in the lightened reflection.

Standing there was a large black dog staring toward her.

IT would look like any other stray dog if not for the yellow eyes burning through the dark.

Anger rose into her chest at seeing IT following. Beverly was not in the mood to be messed with. On top of pain, exhaustion, and feeling of being frozen all the time. Last thing she wanted was some monster terrorizing her for fun.

Subconsciously she gripped tighter onto the shard, to the point of blood being drawn, as her anger grew. Turning around to face IT with an unbreakable stare.

"what?!" she shouted toward him. The canine figure holding unnaturally still with an unbreakable stare of its own.

Yelling out had created a lack of air in Beverly's lungs. Needing her to blink rapidly to clear her blurring vision. Made worse from restricting her breathing to purposely avoid her wheezing being heard. Aiming to not look weak, she took in a deep breath to shout again.

"i know what you did! … I didn't find it funny!" pausing mid way for another deep breath. Fighting the increasing need to have a coughing fit on her burning lungs. Her shouting referring to the whole ID with meal earlier. Tension filling the air around her while waiting for any response from IT.

"he's just trying to piss me off." she thought. Watching him stand unresponsive to her angry shouts. Lack of breath having her not care so much about being followed anymore. She wanted to reach the junk yard to fall asleep. Despite whether IT was haunting the area or not.

"it's just a shitty game he's playing." she thought bitterly. Tossing the glass shard far in ITs direction as a way of telling him to piss off without need to shout it. Turning to walk again with an unsteady step that needed her to fight to regain balance.

IT stood watching her throw a glass piece over to him. Waiting until she walked off so he could approach the piece. Scent and sight of red telling him it was her blood covering it. The given object bringing up some confusion at the intentions.

"she sounds upset at how I tried setting her male of fire." he thought, thinking what she spoke about was the recent action he took. he looked over the bloody object in contemplation.

"an object of disfavor?" He knew humans would give gifts of endearment, but that tended to involve something less ... antagonistic. Meaning this was something on the opposite scale that he did not like being given. Taking it instinctively as a rejection from her with his pride being bruised.

"this will have to be fixed tomorrow." he spoke to himself. Running back to the lair to finish off the den he had worked so hard on.

Beverly walking farther in the dark with barely a care. Exhaustion hitting her too hard to feel fear in the moment. When she got closer to the junk yard she saw the red glow of a fire. Yet the glow being abnormally big seeming wrong. Furrowing her brow in confusion she rushed a little faster to the entrance. Stopping when she saw half the bus burning with the other half burnt black. A mass cloud of black smoke lightened by the fire growing off the destruction.

"Erik!" she shouted with a heavy cough at the end. Fearing that what she just said to IT had gotten Erik killed.

"where were you?!" Erik came out shouting from hiding in a rundown car. Relief jumping into her heart for just a moment until seeing Eriks anger.

"i-i was fixing m-myself. You wouldn't want police finding me dead." she stuttered, blurting out the last part to try easing Eriks anger toward her.

"you working under them too?!"

"what?!" she exclaimed. Shocked at how he could have come to that conclusion. Did the clown say something to him?

"the police, that clown that almost got me roasted in that bus! He was really looking for you! Almost choked me to death in an interrogation!" stepping into her personal space with finger poking to her chest.

"no! I don't work for them! H-hes after me! That's why I didint want to come back here!" she shouted back defensively. Rubbing over the sore spot he repeatedly poked.

"like there's a mafia here or something?!"

"yeah ..." she lied. Knowing Erik would get really pissed at her trying to explain the clown was a shape shifting man eater controlling the whole town.

"why do they want you? You're a nobody." his tone filled with disbelief.

" ...i … saw something I shouldn't have." she continued lying. Wanting to get through this so she could just go to bed somewhere.

"you saw a hit?"

"... yeah." she confirmed with exhaustion. Really not caring at this point on what she was saying. As long as it kept Erik off her back for the rest of the night.

"shit! You should have told me this shit!" Raking his hands through his hair to relieve the stress of the night.

"i couldn't! Witness protection and all that!" she lied through her teeth. Erik was so paranoid about cops he barely knew anything about them. She was going to sell this story as far as she could with him.

"shouldn't cops be protecting you then?!"

"it's not like the movies. They just drop you someplace far away." continuing her made up life. Watching Erik go off with a list of curses escaping his mouth. She tiredly rubbed her face, stopping with a hiss at spreading the glass cuts over her hand. Coughing heavily into it as she headed off to sleep in a car far away from Erik.

Curling up in the dark back seat with a shiver. Snow falling down into a heavy layer over everything in the night. The remaining red glow of the bus eventually dying off under the falling snow. Beverly waking up constantly to sweep building snow off her, or even away as it flew through all the holes in the vehicle.

She shut her eyes with the thought of someplace warmer. A nice hot sandy beach with warm clear blue water moving back and forth. The sun spreading its bright warmth over her skin. A slight cold breeze across the open sand sending a prickling chill over her skin. The warmth no longer feeling as joyful.

The nice calming beach turning to a dark stone in a freezing blackness. A burning light with the feeling of being choked forcing her to turn her head. Seeing many blinding lights swirling in her distorting vision. Mind racing on where she was or what was going on. Seeing a mountain of items in some flashes of side vision, wet walls with tunnels leading away in other parts. Moving jaws of many rowed teeth stretching wider grabbing her full attention forward again to the lights.

The glow burning brighter across her face. The increasing heat off the glow being comforting, at first, shifting further into a itchy burn. Touching her face first then spreading into her breath to scratch her throat. Flowing thickly down, equal to that of black smoke, to sear deeply into her lungs.

It was suffocating her deeper into a darkening space away from reality. The searing burn spreading throughout her body as a deadly venom would. Body fighting the burn forced into going limp to a blinding wall of light.

A sense of vision returning a moment later. A mix of darkness meeting a blinding wall of the swirling glow ahead. Futility she tried turning away from the blinding mass ahead making the illness worse. The light burning her eyes threatening to take her vision, as the sun would, when stared at directly. Body suspended away from any kind of ground in a black tar like webbing. Stiffened weakness preventing her from turning her head from the light. She held still after seeing she was not alone in this place.

From the corner of her eye she could see a large moving mass with many legs. Bigger than any building she could think of in new York. Watching it spiral around in a great curve unending into the blinding light. Maybe even out of it, there was no way to tell with no head to be seen.

"IT. The deadlights." Recalling her time here before.

Beverly twitched her body in need of an escape. Burning lungs growing desperate for any amount of air. Unable to scream out in pain no matter how open she made her airway. A growing roar sounding around her.

Thinking at first IT was mocking her. Letting out a laugh in an incomprehensible language.

Tears collecting in her stinging eyes with the recognition of it not being a low roar.

It was the screams of many joining her suffocating space.

She shut her eyes tightly in pain. Wanting the burning light to disappear or all the pain to go numb. Thoughts of the pain being an extension of ITs way of eating coming to mind. All the air space burned more than swimming under the surface of acid. Something, similar to teeth, she could not see raking against her skin. Working in frustration to get a bite past her skin.

A continuing thought that if she was silent from pain now then how much will she be suffering later to be forcefully screaming. The torture of being eaten alive for who knows how long. An eternity of this devouring suffocation would break anyone.

She arched her head back with lungs forcing through the pain for a gasp of air. The burning expanding her lungs to shove any free space out. Ribs sharply expanding with no room to shrink back.

Her eyes shot open with a opening of her mouth to breath. Coming out of her nightmare in a panic at a real inability to breath. Lungs being clogged with something, not by anything in the throat she could try grabbing for when choking. Stumbling out up against the broken car. Hitting her chest with a fist without any other idea of what to do.

Knocking something loose enough to wheeze in a deep gasp of air. Eyes watering with body shaking at finding relief. Holding her head up with the posture helping her breath easier over time.

"goddammit." she wheezed. Collecting herself to look around in answer to how long she had slept.

She groaned at the morning sun gleaming over the white land. finding it hard to appreciate the scenery when her body felt frozen. Cautiously walking around in a slow pace. Bringing up her body heat with the small exercise. Spotting Eriks footprints in the snow already heading out to town.

She coughed with a sharp inhale. Gagging on the large scent of blood off her own clothes. When the coughing stopped she looked down in examination at herself. Seeing her shirt half stained with her own blood. The trail leading down with smears criss crossing over her pants.

"i can't go around like this." she mumbled, heading off down to the river for cleaning. The water was cold enough for ice to form on its surface. However she didn't want old blood sticking around her wounds. Infections weren't so easy to fix without a prescription from a doctor.

"really don't want cops being called on me either. I have enough to deal with." She thought on her way down to Derry's main bridge. Using it as cover while she stripped of her main clothing.

Jumping into the cold river to scrub the cracking old blood off from her skin. Hopping right back out as soon as it all was gone. Redressing into her dry clothes to warm herself back up. Doing her best to dry off by sitting in the sunlight. Frost developing over the clothes growing wetter. Seeing no point in waiting any longer she started scrubbing the clothes while wearing them. Scrubbing until the stains were barely see able with her hands a sore red by the works end.

"cold, but clean." she thought. Wringing out any excess bloody water from her clothes. The cold morning air stabbing at her lungs with each breath. Another coughing fit breaking out despite how hard she tried to hold it. Taking her hand away to drop it at her side.

Bringing it back up when her mind saw something was wrong.

Her palm covered in a mist of blood. Wiping her mouth with her other hand to confirm the bloods origins. Finding that more blood was misted on her lips after coughing. Licking them to taste it for a final confirmation before wiping her mouth with her sleeve. Washing it off before it could be further stained.

She swallowed at her lightheadedness from being made aware she was coughing up blood. Sitting down to gather herself on what to do.

"...lucky me..." Thinking how she was going to fix this without a doctor.

"maybe the pharmacy has a antibiotic prescription among the medicine folders. … after my first break in the police might be watching the place. … just wait until dark to run in and … search... Every... Folder." letting out a sigh over how bad the idea was. Out of all the medication folders only one may have antibiotics. Searching would take up to at least a few good hours just for a quarter of the folders. Going over each bottle to decipher the medications name alone would take a while.

"i cant break in a second time. I need to visit the hospital." she thought, clawing her fingers into her shivering arm to make it stop.

"that's been getting worse too." she mumbled with a unsteady rise to her feet. The uncontrollable shivers increasing in time with shaking worsening to where she couldn't keep still.

"might not even be from illness. Just all the damn stress." Remembering she always did have a small shiver around Erik, no matter the warmth of the day. Holding or tensing her arm used to put a stop to it. Now it took practically clawing into it to force it still.

"to hell with Erik. I want food that's hot and I'll find someplace I can at least get warm in just by myself." turning to walk toward town. Sneaking down the small back alleys just in case Erik was nearby. Going against him was easy, but she didn't want to press her luck on him finding out.

"i hope my clothes are clean enough." she thought, looking down at the blood stains barely remaining. The lack of blood on her letting her natural scent rise freely into the open air.

The new scent revealed grabbing the attention of IT down under the streets. He crawled up to one of the storm drains to see the new scents origins. Seeing Beverly passing behind a few of the large brick building stores.

"scent of violet flowers are heavy on her." IT thought. Liking the scent much more over the bloody one.

"... she's actually in town, during the daylight?" he noted of her strange appearance. Having her barely be seen away from the junkyard as it is. If she was in the town she always had the male with her. Going off by her sneaking through the alleys he was sure she was hiding from the rival male. Which worked just fine for IT on keeping her free for himself.

The den was complete with only needing to be shown off now. Approaching her had to be done delicately. He was very aware that with his past aggressiveness she might not be too keen on him snatching her to be dragged down into a drain for a talk. He'd wait till shes fully alone to approach her, all while keeping that rival male as far away as possible.

"speak of the devil." IT muttered at seeing Erik at his usual phone booth post for pick pocketing. Walking back into the darkened tunnels toward a water drainage grate to crawl out of. Out of sight of the humans main pathway IT slipped the cover back in place. twisting his body down as soon as the cover was dropped. On the black paws of his dog form he sprinted out of the alley out onto the sidewalk. Racing straight for Erik to ram right into both his legs at full sprint. Sweeping Erik clean off his feet for some air time that ended by his body slamming down into the concrete.

"what the-?!" Erik let out a groan, looking up for the source of his falling. Sitting up when he saw a large black German Shepard with bright yellow eyes barking at him insistently.

"get out of here!" Erik shouted with a wave of his arm at the canine. Trying to shoo it away with no intent on wasting energy to chase it away.

IT momentarily stopped its barking to think of its next move. He wanted Erik to get far away from Beverly's location by being chased. Being a nuisance was unfortunately not working as well as expected. Watching Erik slowly stand with a sweep of dirt off his jacket. A look of concern going over him with rapid pats around his pocket. He looked down with IT following his gaze.

A bundle of money was sitting on the concrete where he fell. Erik didn't even get a chance to move before IT snatched up the bundle into his mouth. Dodging the heel of Erik trying to kick his face in for the money. But not backing away fast enough from Erik lunging for him. Grabbing handfuls of black fur at ITs neck. A grin spreading across Erik face at assuming he had the dog under his control.

Expression dropping to confusion as he swore the dog shouted "tally-ho!" just as it leaped forward into a full sprint. Erik was yanked off his feet with the firm grasp on the dog to be dragged down the street like a rag doll.

"weeee!" IT shrieked loudly in excitement at the fun he hadn't felt in years. Happily dragging Erik around corners, through bushes, across the tables outside a diner. Eriks grip finally dropping off when IT was prepared to ram through a thick thorny rose bush.

"credit for holding on so long." IT thought after dragging Erik down a few streets and through the park. Waiting nearby for Erik to get up.

"you furry bastard! … your going to be a new skin rug!" Erik panted heavily. Throwing the handful of yanked out fur to the side. Brushing all sorts of things off his body from diner straws to full on twigs. IT ran off down the street in lead of the chase. Finding the whole thing ironic as he was usually the one chasing.

He turned down a narrow brick alley. running to the very dead end of it with a final skid to a halt. Turning around to face Erik who had a grin stretched across his face.

"cant get away now." Erik mocked as he approached. Towering brick walls surrounding all sides except the one he was approaching from. Barely a foot of space to squeeze by with the only thing between them being a small drainage hole only 4 inches wide in round circle. Eriks victorious laughing dying down as the dog went up to the small drain to shove its face down with some cracking noises.

More sounds of bone breaking down with the dogs body going limp. Twisting down the small drain with a final loud pop of suction. Leaving Erik standing there alone with the most shocked expression. He wasn't sure whether to be angry that the dog got away with his money or concerned at seeing a dog go down a small drain like a melted smoothie.

"boy that was fun!" IT was thrilled at how far he got Erik away. Getting back in a quarter of the time to see what Beverly was now doing. Checking by each drain opening for a glimpse of her. Unable to see her, but catching her scent from a diner. Keeping to his dog skin, he twisted out from the small street drain while no one was looking. Hurrying across the street to slip in through the door as someone went out. Slipping past any staff with ease around the many booths lining the place. Finding Beverly sitting at a booth in the very far back of the diner.

Sitting with her head resting on her arms. Staying far away from any windows just in case Erik walked by. Eyes closed to regain some energy. Warmth of the kitchen near by making it difficult to stay awake. Sitting up with the sound of a cup being set in front of her.

"your hot coffee." the waitress smiled. The smile returned with one back, along with a small thank you. Beverly adding the amount of extras into her drink to perfection. Swallowing the hot liquid with a few gulps. Wanting to drink it hot to help her pained lungs relax. The hot drink doing just that with honey lemon suppressing her coughing fits.

"mm, forgot what coffee tasted." she hummed at the thought. Relaxing into the booth with joy at the current moment. Hot coffee with a bowl of oatmeal coming alongside a plate of bacon omelet.

Still holding the wad of money in ITs mouth he decided to put it to use. Looking for a few things needed to set something up at the front counter. Taking a few napkins from atop the table he was hiding under. Moving down with them to hide near the front counter. Grabbing a pen from a jar with a paw twisting into a hand for writing.

A waiter standing near the front turned at the ring of a bell. Seeing a black dog standing with front paws on the counter, money with a note hanging from its mouth.

"... hey Chris!" the waiter called for his manager at the sight. A man in a suit walking up to the person calling. Looking over to where he was pointing at. Spotting the dog, then the noted money it had. Walking over to cautiously take it from the dog's mouth. Pulling the napkin from the crinkled money.

"put half toward the bill of the redhead in the far back booth. The rest is a tip for staying quiet about this." the note had written across it. Counting the money out had the tip coming to a full $50. with that, the manager wasn't going to ask any questions. Telling Beverly's waiter to put the rest on her bill. Knowing everything was in order IT rushed back out the front door.

"okay, you have $34 on your tab." the waiter happily announced to Beverly. The price almost making Beverly choke on her coffee.

"what?! Everything wasn't that expensive!"

"oh, no, not your bill. Your tab, $50 was added to it, after your meal you still have $34 dollars to spend." he clarified.

" … whered the 50 come from?" curious, but not wanting to look too far into the mouth of a gift horse.

" secret admirer?" the waiter shrugged. Beverly's curiosity growing more, but she shoved it to the side.

"another cup of coffee, please, with a plate of strawberry pancakes, extra bacon, and sausages." she added. Craving something sweet that wasn't purely a dessert. The waiter nodding as he wrote the items on a ticket. Leaving for a moment to return with the coffee pot to pour another drink for her.

"things are going too well now." Beverly thought. Mind turning to how she was going to deal with Erik later. Shed be gone far past sun down, maybe not returning till morning after a nights stay at the hospital. "what if I just don't come back? ..." The hospital was half way between main Derry and its town border. She had money for a bus ticket to get her a few hours away from this town. Erik would have no idea where she went. Ceasing her thoughts at her body shivering again. Clawing into her arm to keep still. Taking deep breaths to relax enough for her body to go still.

"maybe waiting is a bad idea. … I wouldn't get far without food." she swallowed. Walking was turning into a burden for her. Her lungs couldn't gather as much air as they used too. Shivering again when she remembered the bloody coughing.

"finish the food and get out." she thought, picking up the fork as her body went still again. Carefully eating her meal with gulps of hot coffee. Her rush to leave dying down alongside the food getting closer to being finished. Sitting there with only a cup of coffee left to finish.

She looked down into the dark liquid. Putting a stirring stick into it to mess with. Half of her not wanting to leave the lighted warm building for the snowy cold waiting outside. It didn't really matter that most the day was gone. No matter how early she left shed be walking in the night at some point.

"want anything else?" the waiter asked.

"no thanks. I'll finish this off and leave." she raised her coffee cup.

"you still got 15 dollars left on your tab." the waiter informed.

"keep it." she finished off her cup. Walking out to face the slow falling snow. Squinting at the sun being far past its noon position.

"i won't reach the hospital for a couple hours. Longer if this snow starts getting higher than a foot along the highway." kicking a pile of snow out of her way. Wheezing in a stinging cold breath of air. Holding back on a rising coughing fit. She didn't want to end up out of breath before her walk could even begin.

IT saw her walk out of the diner from its waiting spot at the corner. Having had large amounts of fun messing with Erik throughout the day. Stealing any other money he made in the dog skin. Eventually making him so paranoid he grew wide eyed at at any black dogs walking by. The fun unfortunately ending with Erik returning to the junkyard empty handed.

IT held to its canine form to follow her. Considering now to be the best time to approach. She was completely alone with the town falling to sleep under the approaching night. ITs train of thought disrupted when he saw her heading down the long stretch of highway. The only place out on that road was the hospital.

IT kept as close as he could without being seen. Paying attention to any little noise he made in the snow. Wondering why she was heading to a building treating the ill. The answers coming up during the long walk as he observed her. She shivered strongly with lots of coughing. Him catching the small scent of blood on the wind after she stopped each time. The appearance of her body temperature growing dangerously low.

Forcing himself to stay back was becoming hard while watching Beverly struggle with her illness. Should he approach now to take her back to the nest? The space was made to be a lot warmer than the snowy outdoors. It would risk Beverly's health further declining under the stressful meeting. He only knew a few facts on human illness and he could not recognize what she had. For now he would stay back for her journey to the hospital to go undisturbed.

The time she took to stop for air escalating over the hours. Body requiring her to stop at every other tree to catch her breath. Vision blurring with black creeping in at the edges. Shivering becoming a problem for her to walk steady enough in the snow.

IT shifting from its canine form to stand by as the clown. With how badly this walk was going he had to speak with her. Sensing what little body heat was on her she was going to die soon. That, he couldn't allow. Despite her possibly panicking at his forwardness on taking her someplace else.

She wheezed in some air through her sleeve being used to keep her breath warm. Looking down the road with a growing hollowness. Negative thoughts seeping in on her current position.

"can't walk back, but I can't go forward any more. How much farther is the hospital? I haven't seen a sign in a while." she spoke with a shiver. Unaware that something overheard her. Getting up from her leaning spot on a tree to trudge through the snow to reach a lone street lamp not that far. The lone metal lamp by a destroyed call box having been run over long ago.

"heh, cant call a ride." she chuckled darkly at her situation. In the middle of nowhere, on her way to a hospital, with only herself. Her body tiredly slipping down from a standing lean to a crouching one. Forehead resting against the metal pole in a futile attempt at removing the doubling vision. Black filling more and more of her vision with a great layer of numbness taking over her body. She closed her eyes for a moment. Readying to accept the exhaustion she had been fighting for so long.

"Beverly ..."

she shot her eyes open at the voice. Looking into the frosted reflecting poles metal.

the clowns silhouette standing not too far behind her. Bright eyes glowing yellow within its black shape.

Finding some last sliver of strength she unsteadily stood back onto her feet.

Her mind circled around scolding herself for letting this happen. Wanting to stop her bodies shivering to not look so helpless. Wanting to face him without needing something to lean on. Regretting not grabbing any sort of weapon for this scenario.

Regretting that she thought this plan was going to work at all.

Beverly tensed at him stepping closer. The sound of snow crunching leading to her thinking if that was what her bones breaking would sound like.

"i have to face him … even if I can't do anything. … I will not die cowering against this pole." she thought, taking in a wheeze of chilled air. Carefully positioning her hands to slowly stop leaning on the pole. Reaching a point she was fully standing without it. The numbness in her body forcing her still. Black vision swarming in far too fast to react with a fog of sleep.

#It (2017)#pennywise #beverly marsh #beverly still kicks pennywise's ass #between two voids ch 3 #12 years after movie #pennywise x beverly marsh

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princessandthedemonfanfics · 6 years

Text

Desire

Game used: Diabolik Lovers What kind of story is this? It’s a One shot/Smut Characters: Ayato x Reader Point of view: Second person Rating: NSFW Lenght: 2,600 words.

Warning: Contains female dominance, abuse & non-consent. ——————————————————————————

A mixed feeling of excitement and fear rushed through your body as you fastened the cold handcuffs on Ayato’s even colder wrists. His chest slowly heaved up and down in his sleep. If not for that he would have seemed dead. One wrong movement now and it would all be over. You could only hope he wouldn’t be strong enough to break free on his own. Because struggling he would.

Four years in a relationship with the vampire and you still couldn’t get your way with him. No, Ayato always had to be in control. The only times he let you be on top was when he so desired and after finding out it did not — as he hoped — embarrass you, he quickly lost interest in it at all. He much rather had you squirming beneath him, getting embarrassed at all the lewd things he inflicted upon you. But not today. Today would be your day. The day of your desires. You brought it up once — your desire to handcuff him — but he wanted none of it. No, there was no way the vampire would simply submit to anyone. Only he would be in control. He’d have it no other way. He’d never admit it to you out loud, but deep down you knew giving up control scared him. He couldn’t help it. Even if the two of you were lovers he would never be able to trust you to this extent. You knew that. You knew. But still… It was impossible to ignore that his rejection of your idea was a disappointment to you. You wanted this to happen. You craved it. Which is why it was so difficult for you to let this opportunity pass by. When you saw him peacefully sleeping like that, and so unlike him not noticing your presence at all, you had to act. It was now or never. And so you ended up here, with Ayato still peacefully sleeping beneath you like a living, breathing, doll — his hands handcuffed to the bed. By far the sexiest view you’ve seen recently. Just thinking about his possible reaction upon waking up got you so excited. The feeling of suspense and rapturous joy rushing through your body was perfect. It made you feel so… lewd.

The vampire beneath you started to move a little, his breathing changed as if close to waking up. The mere thought of him opening his eyes both send a shiver down your spine and made you feel ecstatic. You couldn’t wait for him to wake up and realise the situation he was in, as well as you were scared for the reaction he would have. A mere second passed before his eyes flew open — looking at you with a hint of confusion mixed with panic. “What the!? Oi, what is this about!?” he shouted, looking up at his tied wrists. Luckily you were smart enough to have tied his ankles as well, avoiding the option of him kicking you away. He was completely and utterly defenceless in this state. Just how you liked it. “It is just a little surprise.” You smiled as you straddled him, your left hand already touching his stomach. “Stop fucking with me. Untie me!” “The fucking hasn’t even started yet,” you said with a playful tone in your voice. For only a second he stared at you in disbelief, but then he started struggling as if his life depended on it, although it was nothing but a wasted effort. “How low of you to do this while I’m asleep. Your punishment will be bad. Bad, I tell you,” he threatened. “Only if you manage to break free.” “Don’t fucking try me,” he said, pulling on the chains harder than before. The rattling sound made you pause in fear. For a second you were afraid they might break under that amount of force– but they didn’t. “Hmmm, I wonder what I shall do to you today? Such a rare opportunity cannot go to waste, after all.” You wanted Ayato to fear it a little. You wanted him to think about all the possible scenario’s — his mind going crazy with worry, if only for a little bit. “How about you untie me.” “Sorry, I’m afraid that’s not an option. Hmmm,” you pretended to be in thought, “perhaps I should tease you a little.” Ayato gritted his teeth, his glare piercing right through you. It would have scared the shit out of you if only he wasn’t tied up right now. Truth be told you were already scared for what might happen in the future. You knew that once he’d get his hands on you you’d be screwed, and not the good kind. But right now was not the time to show fear. Right now was the time to let your dominant side go wild. Especially because this would probably be your only chance.

“First let’s get rid of your shirt.” You slowly unbuttoned the remaining buttons, admiring his chest to the fullest. His skin still felt cold, a sign he wasn’t feeling any arousal yet. You didn’t know if he’d gain some of your own warmth, or if it was his own body heating up when aroused, but whichever it was — it was always nice to know when you’d have effect on him. “Of course you’d like to look at my naked body. You’re such a lewd woman. Going through all this trouble for a bit of view. If you want to see me with clothes off that badly, you could have said so. No need to tie me up like this,” he said, trying to make you feel embarrassed about your own desires. “It’s not seeing you naked that I want to achieve.” “Then what do you want?” A good question. What exactly did you want to achieve from this? What made this so unbearably arousing for you? Perhaps it was the reversal of your roles — him being at your disposal for a chance. Perhaps it was the kick you got out of this clearly dangerous situation — no really, one would think you had a death wish. Or perhaps, maybe, it was some type of revenge for all the times he embarrassed you and forced himself upon you — because if we’re being fair… he did not always give you a choice, either. “This is what I want. You submitting to my will for once.” Not that his pride would allow him to be in a submissive state like this. If there was anything that Ayato would not do – it would be to submit to your will like that. He would fight it, with all his might, until he would have no other choice left. And that was exactly what you were going for, you realised. “Never!” he shouted, moving about more aggressively. “The moment I’ll get out of this you’re dead. I’ll never forgive you!” A chill ran down your spine at his threat. Honestly, even after four years of being together you still weren’t sure if he might kill you one day. Perhaps this time you went too far. For all one knows this time he really would. Yet, you would not stop. It was too late to stop now… this is what you wanted. “You don’t have to,” you tried to sound confident. “I’m sure you’ll end up enjoying it as much as I will.” “You fucking bitch,” he started yelling. “Shh.” You put a finger to his mouth. Ayato angrily bit at it, his sharp teeth sinking into your skin. You couldn’t help but to cry out at the pain — blood dripping on Ayato’s face and down your finger as you pulled back. “This is nothing yet,” he threatened. Staring at his angry expression you felt yourself getting wet — he was so hot when he got angry. For a second he seemed to calm down, staring as you sensually licked the blood off your finger. You could tell this was doing something to him; that this specific action was arousing him. He was, after all, a sucker for blood. “Tch.”

“Now let’s get you more aroused, shall we?” you said seductively as your hand rubbed his crotch. It didn’t take long before you felt him get hard. “What is this? I thought you said you didn’t want this.” “I don’t! Get your hands off me!” You smiled sweetly, ignoring his demand. Taking off his pants you felt him stiffen a little — he was clearly afraid of what you were going to do. His body unready to accept your dominance. You’d tell him to relax, except you didn’t want him to. “Look how hard you are.” You removed his boxers. “I’m going to fucking ki— ah!” he gasped as you wrapped your hand around his cock. “Yes? What are you going to do?” you teased, jacking him off. The features on his face stiffened and his breathing grew a little heavier, yet he still tried to keep a pokerface at what you were doing. He was a strong one. He would not give in this quickly. “Kill you,” he finally managed. You smiled, ignoring him again. As you fastened up the pace you felt his body temperature quickly rise — he was definitely very aroused right now. Ayato tried to move away from your hand, denying himself his own pleasure, but you wouldn’t let him. “Na ah, I am far from being done with you,” you whispered, lowering your head and wrapping your lips around his cock. Ayato started crying out but quickly caught himself. You knew how much he liked you going down on him and you would definitely use that against him now. Before he’d know it he’d be a whimpering mess begging for more. At least, so you hoped. “Hnm, like that?” you mumbled incoherently. He ignored you, but you just knew how much he enjoyed your skills. Pretty soon Ayato’s protesting started dying down and small moans escaped his lips as you sucked all the right spots. “That’s a good boy.” “Shut up!!” You could tell he was close to orgasming now — meaning the real game was about to start. Right before he got to the point of releasing inside your mouth you abruptly stopped all that you were doing, leaving his cock desperately wanting for more. “Oi! What are you doing?” he asked angrily. “Hmmm? I stopped like you wanted me to.” “Tch.” “What’s that? I would almost believe you were… enjoying being dominated by me.” “As if! Never! Now untie me.” He was clearly trying to hide his shame. Pretending he hadn’t enjoyed what you were doing to him. “No.” Slowly you started to stroke his cock again, paying close attention to when he was about to cum again. Then just before that happened you let go again. He’d shout at you and protest and you would start all over again, tantalising him by edging him over and over. You could tell he desperately wanted to cum. You were torturing him. “Perhaps it is time for the next step,” you announced, undressing yourself. Ayato couldn’t help himself but stare at how your skin got revealed bit by bit. He loved it when you stripped for him — although he loved ripping your clothes even more than that. “What are you going to do?” he asked, calmer now. “What do you think? I’m going to ride you, of course.” You couldn’t help but giggle as his cock twitched at those words. “You’ve been wanting that for a while now, haven’t you?” “I told you to fucking untie me,” he screamed, regaining his strength. His sudden movements caught you off guard for a moment. His knee managing to bump into your side. Ouch, that hurt. “You deserved that,” he hissed. He was right. You did. Finally naked you straddled him again, taking him in one hand and rubbing your, by now very wet, pussy over his shaft. Ayato grunted. For just a moment you teased him again, rubbing on him but never letting him enter… but even you couldn’t keep up with this. This was torturing you as well. So before long, you let him slide into you. The feeling of ultimate control made you quiver with joy. The mixed expressions of rapturous delight combined with shame on Ayato’s face almost immediately pushed you over the edge. He was feeling good, yet obviously ashamed he let this happen to himself. You started focusing on your own pleasure, bouncing up and down on him for what felt like a good ten minutes. Being in control gave you the opportunity to choose exactly how you wanted him to enter you each time; it gave you the possibility of rubbing on all your good spots. Your moans getting lost with his. Suddenly you felt your pussy tightening and Ayato was showing signs of almost finishing inside you as well. You got off him as fast as you possibly could — his semen now spurting all over your boobs and your stomach. “Good boy,” you said again. “Fuck you.” “Again? Sorry, I need a break,” you teased. Ayato gritted his teeth. “You got what you wanted now right? Let. Me. Go.” He was right. You got what you wanted. But was letting go of him really the smartest thing to do right now…? For a moment longer, you stared at the expressions on his face. While it was clear that he was satisfied, you were sure he hated you a little now. Oh, god. What did you do? Now that your arousal had died down the realisation of your actions were finally daunting on you. You had to let him go right this instant!

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, quickly releasing his ankles. You half expected him to kick you the moment he got free, but he stayed eerily calm. Your hands started to tremble a little as you removed his handcuffs as well. There were dark spots on his skin, even blood at some parts — the proof of how hard he had struggled to get free. You hadn’t meant to do this. To… hurt him like this. But he always did this to you, didn’t he?

The exact second his other hand got free he pushed you into the bed with such a force that all the air got squeezed out of your lungs. Before you got the chance to gasp for air again he squeezed his hand around your throat. “Never do that again,” he hissed. An immense fear shot through your body, staring at the murderous look in his eyes. This was it then… he was really going to kill you this time. “I guess it’s time for your punishment,” he said with a wicked grin. A low, sinister laugh escaping his body as he stared at your reaction. When he was satisfied with the level of fear in your eyes he bit your neck so hard all you could do was scream. He let go of your throat, pushing your hands into the bed instead, as he drew back and stared at you again with an almost insane stare— this time blood dripping down his chin. A knot formed in your stomach, fearing the punishment he was going to inflict on you tonight.

“Prepare yourself — for the pain you will feel tonight is nothing compared to what I’ve done to you in the past,” he promised. And you knew it was the truth.

#diabolik lovers #sakamaki ayato #ayato sakamaki #fanfiction #smut #tw: abuse #tw: noncon #nonconsent #female dominance #x reader #second pov #dark #mature #tw: blood

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cute-anxious-kitten · 6 years

Text

The Glitch

tw: Anti? I guess? And Marvin getting mildly aggressive. Anything else let me know!

Chapter 4: Return of the glitch

They stared at the door for a good minute before Jack went over and knocked on it, breath hitching when the door flew open and Marvin’s wand was under his chin.

“M-Marvin?”

“Disturb me again and die.” He closed the door, and Jackie caught his friend as he fell to the ground in shock.

“Jack?”

“What’s wrong with him?” Jack asked quietly as the hero pulled him to his feet and they rejoined the others.

“He’s always like that with me,” Shawn said.

“Yeah, because you shrank his cape,” Chase said.

“By accident!”

“Doesn’t matter,” Jackie said. “JJ, you said his eyes turned black?” JJ nodded. “Then we need to find out why.”

“Or how,” Schneeplestein said. “Anyone have an idea?”

“Black magic?” JJ said. “Is it possible?”

“Could be yeah,” Jack said. “Or worse.”

“Worse?” Shawn asked. “Like . . . Dark worse?”

Jack shook his head. “Anti worse.”

Silence fell at his words, and Chase wrapped an arm around JJ’s trembling shoulders. “You think the glitch got to Marvin?” Chase asked.

“I think it’s possible.”

“If he comes back, I won’t let him hurt my family.”

“What can you do, Chase? Last time you tried to fight him you lost so badly you were in the hospital for a week.”

They turned to see Marvin at the end of the hall.

“I’ll do my best! I know how he fights now. I can win.” He looked at JJ. “I have to,” he added softly.

“Just don’t do anything stupid,” Marvin said.

JJ wrapped Chase’s arm around himself and clung on tight enough to make him wince.

“Don’t be scared, JJ,” Jack said. “Anti won’t get you as long as I’m here.”

“Move in!”

Jack slowly moved forward, and pulled him into a hug. “I’ll visit every day. And Chase and the others can protect you, ok? Do you believe me?”

JJ paused, and after a few moments he nodded and clung to Jack. “Yes.”

“Good. And Marvin, for once be nice to Shawn. At least in front of JJ.”

“Fine,” The magician said, waving a dismissive hand. “But it won’t be easy.”

“Just don’t kill me, Magician,” Shawn said under his breath, and in a flash Marvin had him against the wall by his throat.

“Say it again,” Marvin growled, too close for comfort. Shawn tried, but the pressure on his windpipe was too strong. “SAY IT!”

“Marvin, stop!” Chase grabbed his wrist, and was shoved harshly to the ground.

Marvin threw Shawn down next to him, and the toy maker coughed.

“I’m s-sorry,” Shawn whispered, looking at the floor. “Don’t hurt me, Marvin.”

The magician kicked him in the ribs and walked away, locking his bedroom door behind him as he entered.

“Are you ok?” Jack asked, offering a hand.

Shawn’s only response was to curl into himself, and Jack looked to Schneeplestein.

“Come, Mr. Flynn,” the doctor said. “I must examine to make sure you are ok, yes?”

Shawn shook his head, and JJ tapped his shoulder to get his attention. “I don’t know why Marvin hurt you, but you need a check on your ribs, friend.”

Shawn looked at him for a moment before accepting the hand and allowing himself to be carefully pulled to his feet. “Will you come too?”

JJ nodded, and they followed Schneeplestein to the lab, and both jumped when they saw Jack by the door.

“Sorry, I just wanted to make sure Shawn was ok.”

“He will be fine if he holds still.”

Shawn instinctively grabbed JJ’s hand, and the dapper gave a gently squeeze. Schneeplestein removed shawns shirt and gently pressed on his ribs, earning a sharp gasp from the toy maker. “You are not ok, Shawn Flynn.”

“What’s hurt?” Jack asked, moving to stand next to JJ.

“Sprained ribs,” the doctor said. “I will speak with Marvin about this.”

“I’m fine,” Shawn said quickly. “Just fine. I don’t need -- Ah!”

“You are not fine,” the doctor said, setting the tool he had just tapped Shawn’s ribs with down on a table.

“Jerk,” Shawn said, glaring at the doctor.

“Careful, Mr. Flynn. The magician might kill you, but Dr. Schneeple will.”

“No you won’t,” Jack said.

“No I won’t.”

Shawn let Schneeplestein wrap his ribs, and Jack sat on the coffee table wien the toy maker was on the couch.

“Do you want me to try talking to Marvin? I’ll be nicer about it than Schneep.”

“I don’t want him to hurt you too.”

“I don’t think he will.”

Shawn hesitated, playing with his shirt, before nodding. “Just be careful.”

Jack went down the hall and paused before knocking on the door.

“Go away! I don’t care who you are, just get lost!” Jack was about to when a softer tone stopped him. “I . . . I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I don’t think you will, Marvin.”

“Jack?”

“You’re not evil. I don’t know what’s going on but we’re your friends, Magician! We’ll help you through this.”

After a moment the door opened and Marvin was in Jack’s arms. “I’m scared, Jack. I’m scared of myself. M-my magic. I could actually kill someone!” He burst into tears, and Jack gently stroked his hair.

“We’ll help you,” he promised softly. “You’re not alone, Marvin the Magnificent. You’re not alone.”

Late that night, Marvin wanted a midnight snack and silently slipped out of his room, peeking behind him at Jack’s sleeping form before closing the door. The Youtuber hadn’t planned on staying, but after seeing how distraught the poor magician was he had texted Signe asking for a change of clothes and telling her why he wouldn’t be home.

Marvin entered the dark kitchen and opened the refrigerator for light, almost jumping out of his skin soon after. “How the fuck did you get in here?” He hissed, glaring at the glitch on the counter.

“Keyhole.”

“What?”

“Glitched through the keyhole, magic boy. Don’t worry, it still works.”

Marvin growled, and Anti grinned like the Cheshire Cat. “Get out.”

“Aw, but I wanted to see Jack. I saw his car out front, and I wanted to say hi.”

“You’re not going anywhere near him, Glitch.”

Anti laughed, and Marvin’s eyes narrowed. “Think you can stop me, Magician?”

“Yes.”

Anti’s eyes narrowed, and a sharp jolt of static sent Marvin to his hands and knees, breathing hard and fast to keep from screaming.

“You’re too quiet, Marvin,” Anti growled, and the pain slowly grew worse until the magician whimpered.

“I don’t -- want any -- one to know y-you’re here.”

“Really? Or is it that you don’t want them to wake up?”

The static burned and finally Marvin let out a quiet scream.

“Scream for me, Puppet!”

The pain kept growing until Marvin screamed and writhed against it. “Make it stop! Please, Anti, make it stop!”

The glitch laughed but complied, and Marvin curled in on himself, body twitching from the pain. He walked over and roughly kicked the magician onto his back, pinning him down with a shoe on his chest. “You’re mine, Marvin. I own you. I own your magic. You. Belong. To. Me.”

“No. He belongs to himself.”

Anti turned, and glitched when he saw Jackieboy Man in the doorway. “What did you say?”

“Did I fucking stutter? Marvin belongs to himself. Get out.”

“Fine. But I’ll be back.” Anti vanished in a blinding flash of glitches, and the hero approached the magician.

“You ok?”

“I . . . I think so.” Marvin accepted the hand held out to him, and fell into the hero once he was on his feet. “Sorry . . .”

“For what? Needing help?”

“Earlier.”

Jackie smiled, and tightened his grip. “Don’t worry about that. Let’s get you back to bed, Magic Man.”

“You haven’t called me that in forever.”

“Guess not, huh? Oh well.” Jackie helped him back to his room, and gently helped him back into bed so as not to disturb Jack.

tag list: @shadowstakeall @tinytardismilkshake @watermelonsinmyattic @antis-loyal-puppet @glitchykitcat

If you want to be added or removed let me know!

#jse egos #jse anti #chase brody #dr. schneeplestein #marvin the magnificent #jackieboy man #shawn flynn #jacksepticeye #glitch bitch #jameson jackson

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elfnerdherder · 7 years

Text

Magnum Opus: Chapter 25

You can read Chapter 25 on Ao3 Here

Chapter 25:

“You’re going to die,” Jared Freeman says, sitting beside me. We’re at the park in Georgia, watching the clouds overhead with a lazy attention to detail. No one hunts for rabbits or dragons among the moisture and perfect blend of elements. We stare up at them, unseeing. They are fake, a mocking creation of a memory that once was. This isn’t real. None of this was real.

“We all die,” I say.

“Yeah, but you’re going to be in a living death. My coffin rests six feet under, but yours will be a six by six with a metal pisser.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” Jared finds that funny. He curls over himself and laughs, hands pressed to his throat to soften the noise. The snickers shiver and choke in the air, and I watch dispassionately.

“You killed Garrett Jacob Hobbs, you killed Cassie Boyle, you killed the woman that birthed your Venus, you killed Marissa Schurr, you killed Nicholas Boyle, and you killed Charlie Yorkman. Your body count is stacking up.”

“I only killed two of them,” I say, but the look in his eyes as he turns towards me is haunting and cold.

“You think I don’t know what’s inside of you?” he seethes, creeping closer. He reeks of decay, of the cold, dark earth I know him to be buried in, the things that creep and crawl beneath our feet. “You think that when you look in the mirror, it’s not me looking out?”

“You’re dead,” I whisper, but he grabs me by the neck and throws me to the ground. He kneels over me, knee in my intestines, and he chokes the air from me with a vicious, uncontrolled anger.

“You kept me alive, you sadistic animal. When I died, all others were ready to let me go, but not you. You were so far inside of me that it felt like you’d pulled the trigger on yourself, right? You had to keep me alive so that you could continue living, right?” He squeezes, and I struggle for air, struggle to push the words from my lips that will save me.

“And while you are so busy trying to peel me from your skin like I’m the monster, you completely missed the real demon that’s been circling us like a hawk for months. I tried to tell you. I tried to show you! A monster knows a monster, Will Graham, and I’ve been watching you look in the wrong corner for too fucking long.

“Do you see him now? In the shadows? Your demon that you lay with, demon that you press palm to palm and ache for? The demon that crawls into your ear while you sleep and whispers naughty nightmares –I hear them, even when you don’t. You’re so busy trying to get rid of me that you ran into the arms of something even worse than whatever I could hope to be.”

There is a whisper around us as he chokes me, a hiss of breath that makes him pause. Jared loosens the hold on my throat, and I wheeze for breath, clawing at his hands so that I can inhale deeply. His knee shifts in my gut, holding me in place. His head quirks up, animalistic, and he sniffs the air, every inch of him going very, very still.

“Do you hear him?” he asks me. “Do you hear him as he approaches to kill us?”

“Who?” I whimper, but he covers my mouth with his hand. His eyes are calculating, dark. A hunter that knows when they’re being hunted is equally dangerous. They know the steps to take, the action and reaction that will make them the apex predator.

“Sh, sh,” he soothes, fingers dragging over my lips. “You can’t save us from him, but I can. That’s why you kept me around, right? That’s the real reason?”

“Who are you going to kill?” I ask, and he begins to melt into me, sinking into my bones and shifting them, moving about until he’s comfortable within my skin, within my very being. Where once it was painful, somehow this is pattern, this being that I am now, is completely, wholly me.

“The devil,” we say, and we stand up, hands curling into fists. Just across from us, the devil waits with his wicked horns, ready to impale us.

“His fever has gone down somewhat, although at one hundred degrees it’s still not quite where we want it to be.”

“I still don’t know what happened. He was standing beside the car, then he collapsed.”

“We’re going to run a few tests to see what we’re dealing with, but this isn’t a normal fever. Is he prone to seizures?”

“I don’t know.”

“I suggest you find someone that does know. I don’t have any medical records of him here that will help me understand just what we’re dealing with.”

“I know someone that can help.”

Footsteps retreated, and a door closed with a muted click. Will’s eyes flew open, and he stared up at the white ceiling, heartbeat calm and steady despite the drumming of adrenaline that was slowly uncurling in his gut. It didn’t take long to see exactly where he was: white ceilings, the smell of piss and cleaning agent, starched sheets, and walls tacked with various laws and regulations crowded around him. A hospital.

His hand was cuffed to the side of the bed, and Will didn’t hesitate. He’d dislocated his thumb before, under far worse circumstances. This time he almost enjoyed the lurching pain that lanced from his joint up to his elbow, and he made quick work of removing the IV and heart monitor, sliding from bed and hitting the floor with a quiet thump.

The clock on the wall read 2:13 P.M.

He locked the door to the room and scouted out his surroundings, finding his shoes tucked underneath the hospital bed with his coat laying across the end of it. Apparently he hadn’t been in such dire straits that they’d needed to change him into a hospital gown, which he appreciated. It would have taken time to change, time he didn’t have because time wasn’t a thing that seemed to exist anymore for him. He knew exactly who Jack Crawford was going to fetch, and the last person in the world he wanted to see was Hannibal finding him in such a horrific position.

“You’ve had a mild seizure.”

Everything was autopilot, action and reaction, and without a second thought, he opened the window and crawled out of it, landing on the backside of the hospital and into snow covered shrubbery. No one lurked about, no FBI agents to haul him back in, and he closed the window behind him, slipping out of the shrubs like it was completely normal to wander about the topiary in the middle of winter. A nurse was on break when he rounded the corner, but since he didn’t acknowledge her, she didn’t acknowledge him. He walked by casually, head ducked and hands in his pockets, and he headed towards the cars.

6.7% of cars stolen were stolen with the keys still inside of them. Out of the minimum of approximately one hundred cars in the parking lot, at least six of them had a key inside. Will scoped them out, pausing at a car that looked like it’d seen its prime in 2004, and he slipped inside, hands passing along the visor casually. The key fell into his lap, and he started the car with a savage grin, pulling out of the parking lot and driving away as quickly as was casual, head pounding. There was no time to think. There was no time to consider the implications. Beside him, Garrett Jacob Hobbs sat in the passenger seat and smiled, head turned towards the window.

“If you’re running, it’s because you’re guilty,” he said, leaking blood onto the seat.

“Don’t make me kill you again,” Will warned. Hobbs decided to remain silent, blood dripping soundlessly. He’d have to get the car detailed before he returned it.

Sneaking into Abigail’s room was so easy, he wondered how Nicholas Boyle hadn’t managed to do it. As he crawled in through the window, Abigail watched from the couch with only the mildest of surprise, hands plucking at the scarf tied prettily around her neck.

“You’re allowed to visit me normally,” she said, but when he turned to her, she blanched. “Oh my God, Will; you look like death.”

“Do I?” he asked, scoping out the room. No one else lurked, although he checked under the bed to make sure. He paced across the room, peeked out into the hallway, then turned back to her and gestured back. “They don’t let you lock the door. They don’t lock.”

“They said certain patients made it so that they only lock doors from the outside,” she replied, standing up. “Will, are you alright? You…you really don’t look well.”

“No,” he said pleasantly, rocking back on his feet. “I’m being accused of murder, and I woke up handcuffed in a hospital.”

“What? Whose murder?”

“That doesn’t matter,” he said, waving a hand impatiently. “I didn’t kill him, though. You know that, right? You know that?” The aggression fled from his voice at the question, and it softened him. He stared at Abigail, and he willed her to see, his eyes wild with desperation. Could she see his innocence? Could she see that his hands weren’t stained by Charlie’s life? Out of anyone in the world, Abigail of all people would be able to know just how much he didn’t want to hurt anyone. Alana had seen a glimpse of it –why not Abigail?

“Hannibal said you wouldn’t remember,” she whimpered, and he froze. Sometimes, prey froze because the surprise completely shut their response system down. Sometimes, prey froze because even when they thought they could suspect anything, they found themselves blindsided by something so utterly far off base that there was nothing they could do.

“…What did you say?” he asked, taking a step to her. Abigail seemed to realize her mistake, and she took a step back.

“What?”

“Hannibal said that I wouldn’t remember what exactly, Abigail?” Will whispered, and he strode across the room to grab her, locking her in place as he hauled her close. She leaned away from him, terror mirrored in her eyes. It should have stopped him, to see her so scared, but Jared controlled his limbs, and God was he angry.

I told you…I fucking told you. He’s going to kill us you fucking moron.

“Will, you’ve had a mild seizure.”

“H-how did I get here, Hannibal?”

“H-he said that…you were struggling with memory. You had a seizure, I d-don’t know, something, and-”

“What don’t I remember, Abigail?” he hissed, and he pressed her against the wall with acute care, leaning close enough to kiss. “And why is it that you know when I don’t?”

“I-I killed Nicholas Boyle, not you,” she gasped, and she closed her eyes tightly, the words falling from her like a tumultuous wave. “You panicked when he showed up at your house, a-and you forced him to drive you to Hannibal’s.”

“What were you doing there?” Will demanded. He remembered his knife, the moonlight, and the will to hurt someone. At that, a wall slammed before him, a wall with blue tint that made his ears ring, a sharp, pinging noise that made dots dance in front of his eyes. He shook his head slowly and whined.

“I’d snuck out to see him –he told me he knew about me being…”

“The bait. You were your father’s bait.” Will hissed, and Abigail nodded.

“I was scared and had to make sure he didn’t tell anyone about it. Th-that agent showed up, and I…I had to make sure. Then you showed up with that boy, and I panicked. I took your knife and I stabbed him, and you had a seizure.”

“I had a seizure,” Will repeated slowly.

“It’s a mild seizure.”

“You d-don’t seem concerned about that…”

“I said mild, Abigail.”

Will winced, and he let go of Abigail’s shoulders to press his hands to his head, a whimper climbing up his throat. His eyes burned, watered, and he moved away from her, shaking his head.

“I didn’t…kill Nicholas Boyle,” he said, dazed.

“I’m so sorry, Will,” Abigail said, staying pressed against the wall. “Hannibal said that it would be better for you to think that. H-he said the two of you would protect me.”

“I protected you,” said Will, shaking his head savagely. “I protected you, and you let me think that I was a murderer?”

“He said you’d keep my secret,” she said, and it was a plea as much as it was a statement. Will you keep my secret?

“Will you keep our secret?”

“I can’t…think,” Will said, and he fell back onto the bed, sitting down as he buried his head in his arms. “The FBI thinks I killed someone else, and they’re going to find out about him, Abigail. They’re going to find out.”

“Not if you don’t tell them,” she pleaded, and she rushed to him, grabbing his hands. “He said you’d protect me.”

“They’re at my house, scouring over it to find evidence!” he shouted, ripping his hands from her. “They’re going to find evidence,” he realized, thinking of his hunting knife. They’d find it, and surely no matter how hard he scrubbed, the blood remained? Where had Hannibal taken his things?

Why had Hannibal lied?

“What do we do? What do we do, what –oh my god,” she moaned, and she dragged her hands through her hair, turning away from him. Her shoulders shook, trembled, and she paced the room, footsteps carrying her from one end to the other. “Will, what are we going to do?”

“We have to go,” Will said, standing up. “We have to go.”

“Where?” she turned to him, blue eyes wild.

“To the last place that any of this made sense,” he said, and he headed towards the window. “Get your coat.”

The drive was long, but it gave him time to think. Unlike his truck, with its lack of music or ability to find a station, the random hospital worker’s car had plenty of CD’s and even an auxiliary cord that Abigail took advantage of. She fiddled with the songs, the volume, the wiring –anything to keep her busy. Her hands fluttered and darted from place to place, and he kept an eye on those as much as he kept an eye on the road. They’d know he was missing; they’d have known rather quickly. Although he kept his foot firmly on the gas pedal, each blip in the road reminded him with pressing clarity: the further he ran, the guiltier he looked.

He wasn’t the one that was guilty, though. Abigail was. Somehow, that made it vastly important that he keep driving.

The curves of the winding drive were as familiar to him as the dirt road to get home. The car didn’t much care for the snow uphill, but he forced it to behave, climbing along the dirt path until they came to the end, his hands fumbling with the E-brake before he shut it off and stared, snow falling gently against the scene where everything went to hell.

“Why here?” Abigail asked, voice small.

“I need to think,” he said, and he got out. The cabin still had yellow tape across the door, but he ripped it off and walked inside, the musty, untouched air assaulting him. He didn’t look back for Abigail. He knew she’d follow.

A fine layer of dust lay across the long since empty work bench and chairs, and he was careful not to touch, his eyes good enough that he didn’t need his hands to confirm what he saw. His feet carried him upstairs, and he walked with frank deliberation towards the center of Garrett Jacob Hobbs’ trophy room in all its horrific splendor. He blinked, and it was his trophy room, his collection of prizes of those who’d paid the ultimate price for his game. He blinked again, and Abigail stood in front of him, gaze pinned to the place where Marissa bled her last drop.

“Is…is that where…” She couldn’t say it. Her voice trembled, and she looked down.

“That is where I first found out that you were as good a fisherman as you were a hunter,” Will said, voice black as pitch. “And that is where your friend Marissa died.”

She walked to it, her shoes stopping just at the edge of the blood stain, just as Will’s had. He wasn’t quite sure why they kept the place so ugly, dirty. Perhaps they were still attempting to investigate, still attempting to find the underlying nuances of Garrett Jacob Hobbs and Nicholas Boyle’s murders. The moment he thought the second name, though, he shook his head. It didn’t sit right with him, no matter how many times he tried to think it.

“P-please stop lying to me!”

“Nicholas didn’t kill those girls,” he revealed, and Abigail turned to him.

“Wh-what?”

“I thought he had because the obvious evidence told me that. The longer I look at that killer, though –his body suspended before me in nothing but shadows –the more I see that he didn’t do it. Boyle was set up.”

“Set up by who?” Abigail asked, and something in the nervous plucking of her sleeve drew his eye. He tilted his head and observed her closed-in stance. Secret, secret; Abigail had a secret.

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” he said, more to himself than her. He paced the room, fingers brushing over the antlers like they were his, like he’d put them there himself. “Who would want to make a design so grand as this? Who would take the time to cultivate everything to what it is today, in this exact place and time?”

“Will, I have to tell you something,” Abigail said quietly. He paused in his steps and turned to her, brows lifted in mock surprise.

“Another secret?” he taunted.

“Yes.” Her voice trembled, but she stood straight. Her hands clenched, unclenched, and she cast her gaze back to the blood, then to him again. “The person that called my dad the night he attacked you-”

“That’s the one that killed Marissa. That’s the one that killed Marissa, that’s the one that killed Cassie, Charlie, and the woman in the museum,” Will said, nodding.

“I’d never heard his voice before that call. I did after, though.”

“Who is it, Abigail?” Will prompted, dangerously quiet. His ribs ached with the thought, with the need to hear her say what his heart was screaming, and as the stag slowly crept up to breathe down his neck, he glared at her.

“It was Hannibal.”

“You’re not alone…this is our little secret.”

“Will you keep our secret?”

“I am keeping her secret.”

“And why…was Hannibal calling your father?” he asked, his voice not his own.

“Hannibal told my dad that you knew who and what he was,” Abigail whispered, and tremors racked her body as she looked away from him. Whatever the expression was on his face, it terrified her. “He told him you’d figured it out.

“I hadn’t,” Will retorted sharply. A sharp ringing sounded in his ears, and he shook his head, trying to dislodge the irritant.

“The first night that I snuck out to see him, I did it because I wanted to tell him that I knew. Then he said he knew what my dad made me do, and we were at a stalemate. I kept his secret, and he kept mine.”

“Why…why would he call your father? Why would he do this to me?” Will asked, and he shook his head again, the ringing growing louder, louder. “Why would he make me think that I killed Nicholas Boyle? Why would he…”

“I was curious.”

“Will?” Abigail asked, and he stood before her, lifting her up and slamming her against the antlers with brute force, impaling her. Her eyes widened in shock, then agonizing pain as her brain realized just what was happening to her. She opened her mouth to scream, but the air rushed from her, a lung punctured in the attack. Her hands jerked, reached, clenched. Her feet kicked, trying to gain purchase, but she was too far off of the ground. He leaned in, shoving her further on the rack, and he smiled into her anguish.

“Because I wanted to see what would happen,” he whispered, and he pushed her as far back as she could go, blood spattering across his shoes in an elegant, artistic fashion. He stared down at his shoes, breathing heavily, and he laughed, reaching down to drag his finger through the blood and lick it, eyes closed to the flavor.

“Would you like to see what someone else’s blood tastes like?”

When he came to, he was in the trophy room, curled up on the ground. He ached, a pain lancing from neck to skull, and he sat up in the darkness, confused. The time on his watch said 2:13 A.M., and as he looked about, confused, he saw that Abigail was nowhere in sight.

“Abigail,” he croaked, and he hauled himself to his feet, hurrying towards the stairs. He stumbled, almost fell down them, but managed to catch himself, falling against the door to the cabin with a heavy thud. The fever was back, a hot poker stabbing into his eye like the worst sort of lobotomy. He opened the door to the bright moonlight and the white snow, and it didn’t take two steps out of the door to see. He could see.

He could see.

Blood spattered along the brilliant white, a macabre display. Underneath the moonlight, it looked black, but the churning mass of snowfall, of shoe prints and dragged bodies told him that of course it was blood because only blood could look so beautiful and so horrifying at the exact same time.

“Abigail?” he called out, his voice trembling. He sunk to his knees, staring at the place where he once held her neck and willed her to live. What had he done? What had he done?

Will, what have you done?

“Abigail!” he shouted, and the silence of the forest around him mocked him with secrets that it’d never tell.

#LiaS scribbles #Magnum OPus #hannigram #hannibal #hannibal fanfic #will graham x hannibal #someone help will graham #hannibal is a cannibal #hannibal is a criminal mastermind #and a dick

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flashbic · 7 years

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14 and 23 Also maybe you could share a fact about Grawk please? Such a lovely creature

Hey Anon, i can only guess that you’ve been following me for a long time, because woah, i can’t remember when i mentionned Grawk for the last time around here! Funny timing though, i was drawing them just a few days ago. :D ANYWAY~

14. An OC with a tragic backstory

TBH this one is kinda giving me trouble because a lot of my OCs have kinda vague backstories? Like, i wish i could say exactly what’s up with Mira; i mean, her backstory definitely has some tragic elements in it (she IS dead, after all), but a lot of it is still undecided.

Orok does have a pretty shitty life overall though, poor guy… Everyone else in his pack got murdered, and he grew up in a fighting ring. He is blindly devoted to his “master”, who pretty much treats him like garbage and throws him in the streets at the very first mistake. So… that kinda sucks. The thing is though, despite all of this Orok is incredibly resilient and upbeat. Part of it is denial and naiveté (he genuinely thinks his master loves him), but overall he’s just generally someone who refuses to let things get him down for very long, y’know? He’s had a shitty life, but for the most part… well, he’s still happy about it.

23. An OC that changed a lot since they were created

Oh man, i have a lot of those. The first one that comes to mind is Peter, who also has the honor (?) of being my very first Death Machine OC! Way back then i had this ridiculously sappy backstory for Jack that basically involved him running away from home when he was a kid and growing up with a ragtag bunch of other kids who, like, all lived in some abandoned crappy house or something (look, my English was terrible and the part of the movie that gives us Jack’s backstory flew right over my head at the time). And the sort-of leader of that group was Peter. He was a smartass with a big heart and a terrible fashion sense (the latter being kind of a common trait among my OCs now that i think about it??), and he was the one who brought Jack in, and it was all very touching.

i RPed that guy a lot and for the longest time he didn’t really change much, and then for awhile he just didn’t show up in anything i wrote for some reason? These days he doesn’t do much besides collecting dust, but i kinda revamped him for the hell of it one or two years ago, and yeaaah, he’s kind of become a total sleazeball now. He’s basically that shady gross guy who sells questionable stuff (drugs? porn of slightly worrying provenance? Whatever it is, if you want it he can probably get it for you) on a street corner. Does he have ties with the local thieves and petty criminals? Maybe (yes).

Since Jack’s old backstory isn’t a thing anymore, these days Peter’s ties with the Death Machine characters are mostly with John! Can’t say John is especially happy with being involved with someone like Peter, but hey, he’s kinda convenient to have around when you need him.

Grawk!!!

Grawk is a karvolf who was created to guard things and scare people off. For the most part, tbh, they do have the characteristics whoever created them intended them to have: the intimidating appearance and loud growls and poisonous bite were all very much planned. The out-of-control aggressive (read: murderous) nature… somewhat less so.

A lot of karvolves are, to be honest, not quite smart, which is usually part of what makes them undesirable to the people who created them by mistake. Grawk, on the other hand, is pretty clever (i’d say even possibly a bit more than Karvolf (the one who hangs out with James)? That one is a bit smarter than a dog and just happens to be very good at reading people). The problem with Grawk is that ANYTHING sets them off, and when they get pissed they will murder everything. So whoever created Grawk is Very Likely dead.

#OC Orok #OC Peter #OC Grawk #in retrospect not giving Karvolf a proper name was kind of a mistake #also i'm still not really sure which pronouns i want to go with for karvolves in general??#this is all kind of a mess tbh #long post #Hello Anon!#i'm kinda floored that anyone would remember Grawk tbh i'm ridiculously happy about it :D

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brooktiniwrite · 7 years

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Chapter Four Confusion (Part 3)

“Look,“ Triston said. ” I know you’re mad. You’ve obviously had a terrible day, but I don’t like those guys.“

Triston’s hand was still clutched around her wrist. Bryn seethed; she slammed the tall glass in her other hand to his chest, sloshing orange and red liquid onto his vest.

"Had I been planning on dancing with them,” She grit her teeth. “I think that I’d have the right to make that decision on my own.”

She broke her wrist from Triston’s grasp. Simultaniously, she let go of her glass, and Triston scrambled to catch it. Triumphantly, she paced away. She could hear Triston’s voice behind her, speaking to Jamison in an exasperated tone. ‘What the hell- wha- what’d I do wrong?’

“Jesus,” Tailynn scoffed as Bryn passed her. Quickly, she scrambled to keep up with Bryn. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say there was some Tequila in that whiskey.”

Bryn tried to shrug off the heat of her mood. Her strides were long and purposeful as she barreled toward the door. “Whiskey can get me riled too.”

The cool dark air beyond the doors were thankfully enough to calm her heat. It washed over her skin, clearing her agitated mind. Bryn weaved through hot dancing bodies until she found a gap in the crowd near the speakers.

Bryn bobbed her head to the bass. It shook the ground with each rhythmic pulse. The people dancing around her obeyed it’s trance, they were smiling, moving, and something about it was very inticing. Bryn wanted to join, so she let herself enjoy it, wondering why she’d been so opposed to dancing in the first place. Tailynn was right, this was fun. Bryn spun in a circle, moving her body to the beat.

A woman with a large tray of small plastic cups walked by.

“Jell-O shots” Tailynn squealed. She thrust a wad of dollar bills at the waitress, who handed them each a handful of Jell-O cups.

Bryn grabbed at the cups, ecstatic to feed her growing buzz. As she spun, she tossed her head back, letting the bitter Jell-O slide down her throat. She stumbled, sure that she’d just drunkenly rammed herself into another person. The remaining cups of Jell-O in her hands toppled to the floor. When she looked up, warmth flooded to her cheeks.

“I-” She stammered. “I’m sorry.”

It was him, the man whom she’d been admiring at the bar.

“It’s my fault.” He smiled. “I didn’t mean to bump into you.”

Bryn couldn’t help but notice how nice his smile was. The last time she’d seen him, gazing seriously at the T.V above the bar, she hadn’t imagined that he smiled often, but the lines on his face said differently. He had crisp laugh lines at his eyes, and deep creases at either side of his smile.

“It’s not your fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” She blushed. “Maybe it was a good thing I dropped the rest of my Jell-O shots.”

“Ah, what?” Again, she was surprised by how this man with such a masculine gaze, had so much warmth in his grin. “Not the rest of your Jell-O shots.”

They both glanced toward the dance floor as someone drunkenly stomped over one of the plastic cups with a crunch.

“Let me make it up to you.” He said. “I’ll buy you a drink”

His skin was an impeccable color; cinnamon came to mind. He touched her, steadying her by the elbow as she wavered. His fingers were cool, almost flush with the temperature outside. Not like Kyle, who was hot blooded, like a spark when their skin connected.

Bryn swallowed, sadness consumed her as she thought of Kyle.

“I’ve got a boyfriend.” Bryn blurted over the music.

What the fuck. What was she doing? She was so nervous. It just came out.

“I’ve got a girlfriend.“ He countered playfully.

She felt so exposed when he looked her up and down, his gaze hovering just over her collarbone.

"What’s your name?” He asked.

“Uh-” She stumbled. She was stammering for many reasons: She was drunk, her mouth felt numb and she was sure she was slurring.

“It’s Bryn.”

“I’m Hayze.”

He reached for her, brushing away bits of hair that stuck in the corner of her mouth. His fingers barely brushed her lips, and it made her feel confused. It had been so long since anyone other than Kyle had touched her like that. She couldn’t pinpoint the way it made her feel. Nervous, maybe? Bryn pulled away. She searched for Tailynn.

She was gone.

“Did you see where my friend went?” She shouted over the music.

“I saw her leave with Alex.”

“Alex?”

“My friend with the curly hair. I can help you find her.” He suggested kindly. “I’ve been wanting to get out of here anyway. We’re being watched.”

He glanced over his shoulder. Bryn did the same. This damn buzz mad her vison blurry, but when she focused she saw Jamison outside of the crowd with a whiskey and coke in his hand; Jack Daniels, no doubt. He leaned leisurely against one of the tall tables, his eyes scanning a crowd of dancing girls. Bryn fumed. Triston probably sent him.

“Damnit.” she cursed allowed.

“What? Is that your Boyfriend?” Hayze asked.

“No.” She said. “Let’s get out of here and find my friend.”

She grabbed for his hand. He took it, stalling briefly in surprise before he guided her away from the crowd with sly grace. Her mind was blank and unconcerned when Hayze led her into an alley nestled between the bar and another building made of bricks.

“Is this where you saw Tailynn go?” She peered passed Hayze and into the empty alley.

It was lit dimly, casting a yellow glow over his Caribbean skin. His smile lines decorated his face quite handsomely, and he shrugged.

"No.“ He said. "I Just had a sneaking suspicion that you were looking for an excuse to be alone with me.”

He moved uncomfortably close, so close that Bryn backed into the wall behind them. His hands went for her, cinching at the bare skin between her skirt and crop top. Bryn gasped, surprised by just how cool his touch was. His hands were calloused and scratchy, his biceps were the size of grapefruits and his grin was very mischievous.

“You think I am going to kiss you, don’t you?” He said blatantly.

Her heart hammered with millions of anxieties. Was he? Did she want him to? Should she be alone with him?

“I-” She began.

She stumbled for words, thinking of ways to politely decline this handsome man. Before Bryn could finish her rambling, he crushed his lips to hers. He was fierce, so fierce that his kisses weren’t at all pleasurable. Bryn tried to pull back. Kyle had always been gentle. Even when he bit her, it wasn’t completely aggressive of him

Suddenly, Hayze stopped. One of his hands was fondling her neck. Bryn reached to swipe it away, to tell him she was finished. She even contemplated lying about her relationship with Jamison in order stop this man, but abruptly, he peeled back the large dried scab that her necklace had once hidden.

“What the-” She yelped.

Bryn didn’t finish. Something about the look in his eye petrified her. Not a muscle on her body moved as he fixated on the skin beneath her necklace. He dipped his head and pressed his lips to the trail of blood that had trickled to her sternum. Her heart slammed so hard in her chest that she could barely breathe. His tongue slid up her neck. Her legs trembled, wishing to run, but her feet stayed glued to the ground, unable to move.

“Your boyfriend,” He grimaced, like he’d just tasted something sour. “He is the one who claimed you, isn’t he?”

What the hell was he talking about? She tried to answer but her head spun.

“J-just don’t hurt me.”

“Damnit, don’t play dumb with me!” Hayze slammed a fist into the logs that framed the building behind her. “Don’t act like you aren’t into guys like me, that you didn’t spot me from across the way. It’s written all over your neck. I’ve met sluts like you, begging for your next bite.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She squealed.

Tears came down and she found a burst of clarity amidst the drunken spinning of her head. Her fist shot against his cheek, but Hayze didn’t budge. He grabbed her fist, squeezing it so tightly it felt as though the tiny bones inside were breaking.

“You’ve been claimed, you’re running around with wolves and I can taste Fae in your blood.” He hissed.

His dark Brown eyes flashed until they were engulfed in black. Bryn blinked. She had seen this before, but it was not like she had seen in Kyle. Hayze’s eyes only dilated to cover the brown.

His pupils, however, weren’t what scared her; it was his canines. They dropped low, gleaming fearlessly.

Bryn scrambled backward. She attempted to dart, but he threw his arms at either side of her, lunging for her throat. She waited to die. She expected to die.

Instead, He disappeared, hooked away with a loud ‘Oof’ and a whoosh of air. Another loud ‘oof’ drug her attention to her right. It was Jamison. He was holding Hayze by his neck, slamming him against the brick wall.

“Give me one fucking reason why I shouldn’t kill you.” Jamison spit, ruthlessness set in his muscles.

Bryn’s heart was beating so hard it could have leapt from her chest. She kept envisioning Hayze’s eyes, his teeth. There was only one explanation.

“Jamie!” She said, choking over breath and adrenaline. Panic was seizing her lungs. “Jamie, be careful. He’s a-”

Jamison turned toward Bryn at the sound of his name. At the split second lapse of attention, Hayze escaped Jamison’s grip like lightening. He appeared at Bryn’s side in a blur, grasping a fistful of her hair. Her skin burned as it stretched away from the scalp.

“Is this why you’ve been following me Jamison?” Hayze shook Bryn. “You’ve got a hard on for the faery girl?”

Jamison lunged for her, but he was too late. Hayze threw Bryn as easily as if she were a baseball. She flew through the air and smashed face first into the dumpster nearest to them. It was beyond any pain she’d ever felt. She convulsed, too short of breath to scream.

Footsteps echoed, and Bryn feared that Hayze was coming to finish her off. She fought through the pain to open her eyes and found shoes. Adidas. The same style Jamison had worn since High school.

He knelt to Bryn, her breath a sharp mixture of wheezes and screams. Bryn’s fists twisted into Jamison shirt, pulling him down toward her, seeking his aid as he surveyed the damage done to her face.

“Get control of your breath, Bryn.” He panted. “I don’t have time to help you. I need you to control that shit right now.”

Jamison slammed a hand over her mouth and Bryn’s panic ensued. Her fists were winding even tighter circles into his sleeves as her chest heaved up and down.

“Now Bryn!” He shouted. His face was darting to the left and back to her again, keeping an eye on Hayze. Hayze was walking slowly toward them, his footsteps echoing amidst the hollow alleyway. “Breath through your nose, count to three, you know the fucking drill, just make it happen.”

Bryn sucked in a long breath through her nose as she tried to control her mind, her breathing. She counted to three and repeated the words she’d been taught to chant. I am here, I am safe, I am in control. I am here, I am safe, I am in control.

“Leave now, or Heaven help me, I’ll rip out your throat.” Jamison yelled throatily over his shoulder, interrupting Bryn’s internal chant.

“Tsk, Tsk.” Hayze wagged his finger. “Ripping out throats? That’s my job.”

Bryn’s head throbbed in pain. She wanted to close her eyes. Her body was cold, so cold. The only warmth she felt came from Jamison’s hands as they left her mouth and grasped at her forearms, her shoulders, and then pulled her up from under her armpits.

“You need to work with me here.” Jamison struggled. “Get up.”

She obeyed, commanding her knees to tuck themselves under her body.

“Don’t move until I say so.” He warned. “This bastard is fast.”

“Don’t bother with her.” Hayze scoffed. “She’s already claimed, she wouldn’t be interested in you.”

Hayze flew toward Jamison in a blur, but Jamison stopped him with a reach of his hand, roaring as he sent Hayze sailing into the logs of the bar behind him. Hayze’s body tornadoed through the side of Dukes. Each polished trunk buckled in on itself, creating a hole in the cabin-like building. Without Jamison’s permission, Bryn ran through the gaping hole. Each bouncing stride shook the broken bones in her face.

Fight or flight had kicked in, and the only thing her body could comply with was running, running far away from Hayze. It was an odd reaction. When she was an angsty tween, and Jamison was even more testosterone driven, he and Bryn had partaken in many of each other’s bouts. Had she not been so frightened, so blown away by the man with snake-like fangs, she would have stood by Jamison.

She blurred passed crowds of people, not once thinking that she should turn back and help her friend. Her clarity was fading, and she wanted to make it to the door before panic stole her breath and swept her from her feet.

When she reached the doors, she was exhausted. She could see flashing blue and red lights. She squinted. She had seen this before. She remembered the chaos from her dream.

She’d dreamt this. Envisioned it. Predicted it?

Bryn stumbled out the door and down the steps, flopping onto the sidewalk and under the wrap around porch.

It was dark here, cold, and the dirt beneath her was damp. She curled into a ball, the neon lights from the bar spilled through the gaps in the wooden porch. Blue and pink hues lit the brown earth, her bloodied skin.

Bryn grabbed at her temples, pressing hard to relieve the dull throb inside. Her fingers grew damp and when she pulled her hands from her face, she found them sticky with blood. Frantically, Bryn wiped at her face again, only to smear her hands with more red.

Footsteps pounded over her head as people fled the bar. She scurried backward, pressing herself against the base of the building. She shivered as she recalled the things Hayze said. “I can taste Fae in your blood”. He called her a “Faery girl” as he shook her.

“Bryn.” She heard Jamison gasp. “What the hell are you doing under here?”

Only one of her eyes opened properly, the other was swelled shut. She saw him peeking from under the stairs, the neon lights dancing over his blue plaid flannel.

“Hiding.” She murmured.

“Well, he’s gone.” Jamison sighed. Glumly, he crawled under the stairs to join her. “Those shit heads ran, both him and Alex. How’s the breathing?” He asked. “Are you still panicking?”

“I’m breathing.” She said weakly. “And I’m not having a panic attack if that’s what you’re asking, but I’m fucking panicking. What was that Jamie? That guy, he- he was-”

“I know what he was.” Jamison interjected nervously, then he handed a flask to her. “You should drink this.”

Bryn brought the flask close to her face and disjointedly peered into the opening with her good eye.

“This is absinthe.” She slurred. She recognized it because her father used to drink it. “You want me more fucked up than I already am?”

“It uh,” He tightened his lips, causing his dimples to flare. “It carries healing properties for the Fae.”

The Fae? There was that word again.

“Just drink it Bryn.”

Skeptically, she tipped the flask back, emptying the rest of the contents. Jamison had just saved her life; at this point she would jump off of a cliff if he told her it was good for her.

The relief was instantaneous. The liquid intensified her drunk and her whole face went numb, a break from the pain. Colors were vibrant. Flashing lights bounced from place to place, lulling her to sleep.

“Jamie.” She felt her top-heavy head fall onto his shoulder. He tensed, shifting uncomfortably underneath her head until she fell drunkenly in his lap.

“You’re heavier than you look Bryn.” He groaned uncomfortably, but then reluctantly shifted to hold her as you would do for an injured, drunken family member.

“Am I a faery?”

“You could say that.” He answered slowly. He had finally settled, no longer tense under her closeness but aloof, uncaring as he propped his knee up and shifted her weight.

“And I am Claimed?” She asked before she nodded into an existence of her own world and absinthe.

She felt him brush the hair from her neck, when he found the spot that Kyle had bitten, his breath hitched.

“Yes” he sighed.

“By who?” She asked.

“Who ever gave you this.” He tapped the bite. “Who did that?”

“Kyle.” She answered quietly, sleepily.

And then she was gone, enveloped by peaceful sleep at last.

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