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writings-of-dumpy · 1 year

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Separate Ways, Worlds Apart 5: The Walk into Mordor

Warnings: mentions of guns, violence, grief

The group listened intently as Rebecca told them the horrors she had just witnessed. She told them, tearfully, the images Vecna put into her mind and the threat that he placed onto Hawkins.

“Okay, but… he’s just trying to scare you, Becca. Right? I mean, it’s not real,” Steve reasoned. Eddie put a reassuring hand on hers as they sat together on the couch in Max’s trailer.

“Not yet anyway,” Nancy said. “Was there anything else? Anything that could give us a clue as to what he’s planning?”

Rebecca thought back to the images and the only thing that came to mind was the gates. She hadn’t mentioned them yet, they seemed insignificant compared to the gruesome imagery of her loved ones’ deaths.

“Four gates. They looked like the one outside Eddie’s trailer, but.. they connected. They didn’t stay a single hole, they grew. They ripped across town, our town,” Rebecca whimpered out.

The room was silent for a moment until Max spoke up.

“Four chimes. Vecna’s clock chimes four times exactly,” Max said.

“I heard them too…” Rebecca said. The room fell silent and Max's posture shifted to one of reluctant confidence as she looked with wide eyes to her friends. A chill went down Rebecca's spine as a realization came over her.

"He's been telling us his plan this whole time," Max said.

"Four kills... four gates," Lucas said ominously. "End of the world."

"If that's true... he's only one kill away," Dustin said with a worried look toward Max.

"Oh, Jesus Christ," Eddie swore under his breath. His face fell to his hands and his hair was a mess from pulling on it. "Jesus Christ!"

"Try calling the Byers," Steve said to Max. The images of Vecna's message swirled in Rebecca's head and the complete story of Vecna's true identity resonated within her as she looked out the window. She was shown her worst fears and the end of Hawkins at a minimum and felt completely helpless to stop it. She drowned out Max, Steve, and Dustin's squabbling over the phone call that wouldn't go through to their friend with superpowers in California.

"Whatever is happening in Lenora is connected to all of this, I'm sure of it," Nancy said. "But Vecna can't hurt them. Not if he's dead."

Rebecca looked at Nancy with wild eyes and quizzical brows. "Are you insane?" she asked.

"We can get weapons this time, we'll be prepared," Nancy offered.

"I'm sorry, what are we talking about?" Steve asked.

"Nancy thinks it would be the smartest idea to go back into the Upside Down and kill Vecna," Rebecca said as she looked at her brother. Nearly everyone in the room erupted in protest.

"The only reason Becca survived is because he wanted her to. He's not scared of us," Steve said as he stood up and confronted Nancy.

"And for good reason! We were wrong about Vecna. Henry. One. Sorry, what are we calling him now?" Robin stood up frantically.

"One," said Dustin.

"Vecna," Erica said.

"One," Lucas decided.

"Henry," said Nancy.

"Right. We've learned something new about Henry/Vecna/One. He's a number, just like Eleven, only a sick, evil, male, child-murdering version of her with really bad skin. But my point is, he's super powerful. He could turn us inside out with the snap of his fingers, it's not a fair fight," Robin pleaded with her panicked words accented with hand gestures.

"So then why fight fair?" Dustin suggested.

"Why fight at all," Eddie smiled sarcastically.

"Ignoring that very helpful interjection, you're right, Robin. He's just like Eleven, but that gives US an upper hand," Dustin said. "We know Eleven's strengths. And weaknesses."

"What do you mean? Like he has a trick knee or something?" Rebecca asked.

"When El remote-travels, she goes into this sort of trance-like state. I bet the same is true of Vecna," Dustin suggested.

"That would explain what he was doing in that attic," Lucas gasped.

"Exactly! When he attacks his next victim, I'll bet you he's back in that attic, physical body defenseless," Dustin grinned.

"Defenseless? Yeah, what about the army of bats?" Steve asked, gesturing to his neck wounds Rebecca assumed were from the last encounter he had in the Upside Down.

"That's true, we'll have to get past them somehow," Dustin shrugged. "But once they're gone, it'll be like slaying Dracula while he's asleep in his coffin."

"That sounds great in theory, but we have no idea when Vecna's going to attack next. There's no pattern to his killings and we don't even know who he's going to attack next," Robin said.

"Yeah we do. Me. I'm still cursed, and I bet you the minute Kate Bush goes away, he'll come after me," Max said solemnly "I can still feel him." The room fell silent for a moment as the weight of Max using herself as the bait weighed on them heavily.

"We can find a different way. I mean, he knows who I am, I might be cursed, too," Rebecca offered with a shrug. Eddie's eyes went wide and his gaze bored into her with sickening worry.

"No, it's... it's gotta be me," Max said and smiled at Rebecca slightly. "Thanks, though."

"Max, he'll kill you," Lucas pleaded. "You can't."

"I survived before. I can survive again," Max told him. "I need to keep him busy long enough so that you guys can get into that attic. Then you can chop his head off, stab him in the heart, blow him up with some explosive Dustin cooks up, just whatever you do to put this asshole in his grave, try not to miss."

"Then we can drag his body out of the Upside Down and blame him for everything," Rebecca said. The room went silent for a moment as everyone seemed to quietly agree that this was the best option without Eleven's help.

"And how do we start this, exactly?" Eddie asked.

"You said everything is a hive mind in the Upside Down, right? Does that include sound?" Rebecca asked.

"Yeah, in theory," Dustin said.

"Eddie, you have an amp and a guitar, right? What are the chances you could make a really loud, constant noise to distract the bats long enough for someone to go in and deal with Vecna?" Rebecca suggested. Eddie's face lit up and his lips turned into a smirk.

"I'll melt the faces off those bats," he said.

"That still leaves weapons, though. Protection for everyone going in," Nancy said.

"Check this out," Eddie said and grabbed a newspaper off of the coffee table. The group gathered around Eddie as he spoke. "The War Zone. I've been there once, it's huge." He had a nervous smile on his face and looked at the group.

"They've got everything you need for, uh... Well, killing things, basically."

"Do you think fake Rambo has enough guns in there?" Robin asked in reference to the illustration on the advertisement. "Is that a grenade? How is any of this legal?"

"Luckily for us, it is," Rebecca said.

"This place is just far enough outside of Hawkins. As long as we steer clear of the main roads, we might be able to avoid cops and, uh..." Eddie began and looked around the group when his eyes landed on Rebecca.

"Angry hicks?" Rebecca suggested.

"Angry hicks," Eddie confirmed.

"If we're trying to avoid angry hicks, maybe we shouldn't go to some store called the War Zone?" Erica suggested.

"Normally I'd agree, but we need the weapons, so I think it's worth the risk," Nancy said.

"Me too," Lucas sighed. "If nothing else, we can make some stuff and fashion it out in the field over there."

"But is it worth the time? It'll take all day to bike there and back," Dustin said. "Not to mention assembly time."

"Who said anything about bikes?" Eddie said and stood up slightly. Rebecca's brow raised as she remembered very vividly the night they tossed Eddie's van into the lake.

"You got some kind of car we don't know about?" Rebecca asked him.

"It's not exactly a car, Becca. And it's not exactly mine, but... it'll do," Eddie said as he looked at the group and bit back a smile.

"Oh no," Rebecca sighed out to herself and hung her head. Eddie then looked at Max and asked if she had a ski mask or a bandana.

"Eddie, if you look in your back right pocket, you may find what you're looking for," Rebecca suggested, noticing the back cloth hanging out. She wasn't trying to check Eddie's back end out, but her eyes happened to wander over to him and he turned just as she was moving her gaze away.

"Oh, no, sweetheart, this is not for covering my face, okay? Uh... Performance only," Eddie winked at her after accenting how he said 'performance' suggestively.

"I've got this," Max said and held up a Michael Myers mask that Rebecca had seen around Halloween time.

"Great!" Eddie said. After a small search around Max's place, he wordlessly wrapped a pouch of tools together that included pliers, a couple hammers, and a screwdriver. When he was finished, he smiled at Rebecca and put the mask on, then beckoned everyone to follow him. Rebecca was accustomed to sneaking around with Eddie and the two of them led the group around the trailer park until Eddie found an open window on his neighbors' mobile home and climbed in. Rebecca followed him and he helped her into the back seat after he took his mask off, then headed toward the front of the vehicle and worked on the wiring that was under the steering wheel with a tool in his mouth. Rebecca locked the front door and watched him work and concentrate. She felt a small pit in her stomach fill with butterflies as his face twisted in concentration while he worked on the exposed wires of the vehicle.

"Where did you learn how to do this?" Rebecca asked him softly.

"Well, the couple of things my old taught me before he died included, but isn't limited to, teaching me how to hot-wire. Now, I swore to myself I wouldn't wind up like he did, but now... I'm wanted for murder and soon, grand theft auto. So, uh, I'm really living up to that Munson name," Eddie chuckled as he held the wires and started sparking the live parts together.

"Eddie, I'm not sure I love the idea of you driving," Steve said from behind the pair.

"Oh, I'm just starting this sucker. Uh-uh, you've got her. Don't you, big boy?" Eddie teased with a devilish grin and sparked the wires together until the engine roared to life. Eddie gripped Rebecca's hand and let Steve sit in the driver's seat as music blared through the speakers and chaos in the vehicle erupted.

"Shit! Go," Steve said and Eddie pulled Rebecca to the middle part of the mobile home. The kids and Robin hunkered down at various spots in the vehicle while Rebecca and Eddie sat in the booth that was a makeshift kitchen. Nancy took the passenger's seat.

"Everyone hang onto something!" Steve yelled over the music and yelling from the owners of the vehicle.

"STEVE, DRIVE!" Dustin screamed as the scrambling continued. With a jerk, the mobile home lunged forward and Rebecca gripped onto Eddie's torso to avoid being launched over the small table. Eddie cackled and started to move his head up and down to the music as he draped an arm around her securely.

"They look pissed," Dustin said to Max, who was sat next to him at the back.

"It's not every day you lose your house and car in one fell swoop," Robin responded.

"Hold on, hold on!" Steve said and before Rebecca could hold on, she was flung to the other side of the room, but before she could hit the wall, Eddie caught her with one arm wrapped around her, holding her close, and the other was holding onto a metal bar above them. Rebecca's heart fluttered as he looked down at her with a wide grin and the road became smoother as Steve headed out of the trailer park.

"You okay?" Eddie asked her lowly.

"Yeah... yeah, I'm great," Rebecca said. Steve turned the music off from the driver's seat.

"She's fine. Let her go," Steve grumbled and Eddie's face fell as he let go of Rebecca. Rebecca let out a breath and laughed at the ridiculousness of the events that just transpired and sat next to Eddie in the booth.

"Well, none of this is okay," Rebecca said. "But are you? Okay, that is?" Eddie shrugged. "Yeah, for the most part, yeah. Are you? Are you hurt?" Eddie asked and looked her over.

"No, no, I'm fine. Thanks for saving me... again," Rebecca said, recalling the numbers of times Eddie has spared her from getting caught, injury, or otherwise danger over the past few days.

"My pleasure," Eddie said with a soft smile. Robin and Dustin were sat across from them, Erica behind, and Lucas and Max were sat all the way in the back. All except for the last two were sleeping or had their eyes closed. Rebecca noticed that up front Nancy and Steve were talking lowly and Steve had a look in his eyes and on his face that Rebecca had seen reserved only for Nancy. It sucked that she was still technically in a relationship with Johnathan Byers, who moved away after the mall fire last year. Rebecca now knew that was because the Byers had taken Eleven in as their own after Jim Hopper, her adoptive dad, had given his life to save the town from the Russian spies attempting to use the Upside Down to control America or something. She knew that Steve never really got over Nancy, and their breakup sent him into a sharp uptick in maturity. She suddenly wasn't so annoyed by him anymore and he took more of an interest in her being safe, and Rebecca ow knew why. He knew about the dangers Hawkins held and he was close to the center of them. Rebecca smiled to herself as she watched Steve and Nancy share looks of longing and fondness, and she thought about her own love life. When facing the end of the world, everything else was catastrophically low on her priority list, but seeing Steve and Nancy interact made her think about Jason and her last conversation with him. She wanted to end things then, but she couldn't, and she felt horribly guilty now for not. She decided not to worry about it right now and just focus on resting when she could.

"C'mere," Eddie whispered to her and wrapped his jacket around her as his arms opened for her to lie her head on his chest. He was backed into the corner of the booth and Rebecca couldn't ignore how comfortable he looked. Giving in, she leaned against him and closed her eyes. His chest was warm and soft and she felt a hard piece of plastic attached to a metal ball chain that she hadn’t noticed before. She fiddled with it for a second and Eddie’s chest thrummed with a chuckle as he moved the guitar pick necklace out of her way. She felt his leather jacket drape over her followed by his arm keeping her steady as the mobile home rocked while Steve drove down the back roads. She felt Eddie's breathing become more steady the longer they were on the road and it lulled her into a twilight sleep against him. The jerks and turns of the mobile home felt farther and farther away as she relaxed into Eddie’s embrace, and soon she was in a world where only she and Eddie's breathing and soft hums existed. It was comfortable and warm, and she felt like she could stay there and hide from the world in Eddie's arms forever. She hadn't felt this before, not ever. It was a new sensation that she enjoyed. Of course, though, she was pulled back to reality when the van halted.

"So much for avoiding angry hicks," Robin said as she looked out the window and saw the parking lot full of cars. Through the mess of cars, Rebecca spotted a familiar one and her heart dropped.

"Um... Jason's here. Jason's car is right there. Eddie and I will stay here," Rebecca said in a slightly panicked tone.

"Good idea," Nancy said and the group quickly got out of the mobile home. Eddie and Rebecca ducked down and sat on the floor of the mobile home under the window so that no one could see them inside.

"Let's be fast," Rebecca heard Robin say outside the mobile home.

~*~

Steve walked through the army surplus store and picked out a new shirt and jacket. He changed into them quickly as to not draw attention to himself and blended into the crowd. He was still tender on his bat wounds, but the pain was starting to dull from the help of some medicine and first aid he got at Max's house. His mood was generally gentle after the conversation in the car with Nancy, and he found Robin by the kerosene.

"How many of these do you think we need?" she asked.

"Like five or six," Steve said and started to place them into the cart. He noticed Robin stop moving and her gaze was aimed across the way at a red-headed petite figure that Steve recognized as Robin's crush, Vickie. Steve smiled to himself and then leaned against the shelf as he looked at Robin. He challenged, then, "What are you going to do, Rob, just stand there and gawk at her?"

"Shut up," she snapped. She made a couple steps forward, but Vickie was then spooked by a man wearing a college letterman jacket and Steve felt Robin's heart shatter as the pair kissed. Steve felt bad for her, and he knew this was just a ruse. He had a feeling in his gut since Robin told him she liked Vickie that Vickie felt the same way. I mean, who else pauses Fast Times RIGHT when the boobs come out? People who like boobs. Steve's thoughts were overshadowed by Robin's poor, broken hearted face and she turned and ran from the scene with tears in her eyes.

"Robin! Robin!" Steve called after her, but she got away from him and took the cart of kerosene with her. Steve was looking through the knives and bullets section when he heard a sickly but familiar voice.

"Hey, can I see this real pretty .37, please?" Jason asked.

"Shit," Steve swore under his breath. Jason looked like hell. It was clear that he was in a constant state of near-tears and Steve almost felt bad for him.

"Steve? Steve, is that you?" Jason asked from a few feet away. Steve happened to see Nancy behind Jason and decided to engage so that she could buy the gun and ammo she needed to shoot Vecna. Besides, he wanted Nancy as far away from Jason as possible. He was the cause of the town's rioting anyway with his crackpot theories about D&D being a Satanist cult that Eddie started.

"Hey! Yeah, funny seeing you here," Steve said. He and Jason had very little in common and rarely talked. The extent of their similarities was their popularity in high school and their proximity to Rebecca.

"We're getting ready, you know. All of us," Jason said and gestured to the crowd at large that had sprinklings of basketball jackets throughout the store. "Where's Becca? Is she safe?"

"Yeah, she's, um, she's at home," Steve said. Jason looked at him with slightly squinted, red and puffy eyes.

"Where were you last night? When we found her by the lake, unconscious?" he asked with a broken voice. "My girl, alone out there and her brother was MIA."

"I was out there looking for her, man, don't get it twisted," Steve said when he sensed an underlying threat.

"I'm not. Just making sure that you know your place. But don't worry, Steve," Jason said with a smile and placed a hand on Steve's shoulder. Steve looked at Jason sourly. "You don't have to worry about protecting her anymore. I'll be there for her."

"Hate to break it to you, but I'm not too sure she wants you around anymore," Steve sneered as he remembered the image of Rebecca and Eddie cuddled up in the mobile home. "Especially now that you're leading an angry mob. Kind of freaked her out a little bit."

Jason's eyes went wide in shock and disbelief. "She's done with me?" He scoffed, "She'll thank me when I bring her that freak's head." Steve nodded and looked Jason up and down. "Stay away from my sister."

"She's mine, Steve. Like I said... you don't have to worry about her anymore. I'll protect her from anyone. Anyone," Jason threatened. Steve let out a breath and saw Nancy hurry out of the area. He let out a small, flat and curt smile to Jason/

"Good luck, buddy," Steve told him sarcastically. With a pat on his shoulder, Steve went to regroup with the others. He knew that Jason had no idea what he was up against, but he was still a threat. Steve worried that Jason might follow him, but by the time they had gotten their gear and paid, Jason and his lackeys were nowhere in sight.

~*~

"Hey thanks for keeping me company in here," Eddie said to Rebecca. She smiled and gently shoved him with her shoulder in a fluid, rocking motion. "Of course. Besides, I don't want to risk anyone seeing me, especially in this shirt. It'll get back to Jason and I'd rather not have to deal with that," she told him with a soft smile.

"Yeah, me too. It suits you, though, that shirt," Eddie said and his gaze shifted forward. Rebecca noticed his expression getting softer as his eyes wandered in thought.

"Thanks... What's on your mind?" she asked him. She felt like they’d known each other forever now, so she didn’t feel weird asking him and she hoped that he didn’t feel the need to hide anything from her.

"Just, uh... Just thinking about Wayne and how he's doing. I hope he's okay. He always had my back, I hope that us doing this means I have his," Eddie said. "But I'm still a Satanist murderer..."

"He still has your back, Ed. And he knows you're not a killer," Rebecca assured him. She shifted herself so that she could face him head-on rather than just looking to the side. Eddie hummed in response and mirrored her actions.

"You're right. I'm Peter Pan," Eddie grinned. Rebecca smiled and giggled at the continuation of the reference she had made. It was starting to become somewhat of an inside joke between them and Rebecca couldn’t have thought of a better one.

"Yes, you're Peter Pan," Rebecca agreed.

"Never did get that kiss, though, Wendy," Eddie smirked out as he looked at her with a soft expression and faint smile. Rebecca's ears went red and felt hot as her face softened. Of course she thought about kissing him, who wouldn't with his devilish features and his soft-looking lips.

Wordlessly, the mood shifted. Rebecca looked up at him and bit her lower lip slightly as the air surrounding them seemed to thicken and the tension between them grew. Eddie's face smoothed over from a mischievous grin to a look of tenderness and hope gleamed in his soft brown eyes. Rebecca wondered if he had always looked at her like that and if she was looking at him with the same eyes.

"I guess not," Rebecca said in a voice just above a whisper.

Eddie slowly moved closer to her by shifting his weight slightly forward. There was very little room in the cramped space they had chosen to hide, so any slight movement could have closed the space between them. Eddie seemed to be taking extra care and moving deliberately to make Rebecca the most comfortable. He leaned his head down in a cautious manner and gently placed his forehead against hers when she didn’t move out of the way. She felt his soft curls and the warmth of his skin against her and closed her eyes at the contact. They stayed like this for a moment with unspoken words, feelings, and fear hanging in the air above them. She heard her pulse in her ears and waited for his lips to connect with hers.

She felt his breath waft over her face and the plushness of his lips ghosted against hers. She felt the slightest touch of his lips on her trembling ones as he whispered, "Becca, I--”

"We've got to get out of here," Steve said after the door burst open, which sent Eddie and Rebecca flying away from each other. Dustin was next to enter the van and raised his eyebrows at the pair, who Rebecca was sure were not hiding the fact that they were about to kiss well. Rebecca's face was hot and her heart was still pounding as the rest of the group filed in with bags of weapons and tools. Dustin's face lit up in a grin as he sat across from Eddie and beamed at him. Eddie hid his face in his hands and his hair and Rebecca was looking the opposite direction for the duration of the ride to an open field where they could start assembling their weapons and gearing up.

"So we have enough kerosene and rags to make 5 Molotov cocktails and knives that we can attach to the ends of sticks to make spears," Robin said, looking at the inventory. When the mobile home stopped, Eddie picked through the living quarters and found a couple broom handles, a trash can lid and a baseball bat that Rebecca quickly called dibs on.

"What? I'm going to need a weapon," Rebecca shrugged.

"No, you're staying on the other side to make sure nothing happens," Steve said.

"It's so weird that you think that just because you're my brother you can boss me around. Remember the last time I stayed behind? Your ass got sucked into a gate. I'm coming with you this time, okay? He killed my friends," Rebecca reasoned.

Steve let out a defeated sigh and the group unloaded onto the field to start construction on the weapons.

Eddie, Dustin, and Rebecca all sat down in a secluded part of the field and started to hammer away at the trash can lids. They made them into shields with spikes for warding off the bats. Rebecca wrapped her baseball bat in barbed wire and secured it with two nails. She swung it a few times away from Eddie and Dustin to make sure she could hit something with it if need be.

"Whoah, that's going to really fuck something up," Eddie said with an impressed sigh.

"That's the goal," Rebecca said. Eddie finished hammering the last nail into his shield and held it up.

"How's it feel?" Dustin asked.

"Light, but durable," Eddie said and swung the lid around and thrusted it toward the sky. "Deadly, but reliable."

Dustin chuckled at Eddie's antics and Rebecca sat down across from Dustin as they both looked up in awe at Eddie. Eddie lifted his leg up and spoke in an epic, gruff, and theatrical voice.

"Hear me know... there will be no more retreating from Eddie the Banished!" he declared and his voice wavered back to his normal tone and pitch toward the end of his statement. Rebecca smiled and laughed with Dustin at Eddie's entertainment. Eddie smiled proudly and lowered the shield as he gripped the rim and looked onward.

Dustin stood up and spoke, "Hey, you're really ready for BAT-tle."

Eddie looked at Dustin plainly and Dustin let out a high-pitched chortle.

"Oh my god," Rebecca let out with an exasperated sigh and groan.

"You get it?" Dustin asked Eddie. Eddie played clueless as Dustin explained further. "Bat-tle. B-A-T. No? Ugh... I thought I had a good one."

Eddie placed his shield on the ground and then went to tackle Dustin. Dustin protested as Rebecca giggled at the two boys. She only had one brother, but she imagined this was how Steve would argue if they ad another brother. At seeing her laugh, Eddie seemed to egg Dustin on further. When Dustin came at him, he easily shoved the boy off of him and grappled with Dustin until finally they were both out of breath.

"Never change, Dustin Henderson. Promise me?" Eddie said in a heartfelt tone as he and Dustin held onto each other. Dustin seemed a little confused with Eddie's words, but Rebecca understood them completely. Her heart clenched and tears threatened to fall from her eyes as she watched the boys' interaction.

"I wasn't planning on it," Dustin told him with a confused smile.

"Good. Good," Eddie responded in a tone that threatened Dustin if he was lying. Rebecca watched the boys' proximity dissolve into Dustin asking Lucas and Erica how the spears were going. Eddie sat down next to Rebecca as Dustin walked away.

Rebecca watched as the leather jacket-clad man flopped down next to her for a short break before they geared up.

"You know, when you say things like that, it makes me think that you don't think you'll make it out of this," Rebecca told him with a worried expression. When she finished her sentence, she cast her eyes down at the ground. The thought of losing Eddie was soul destroying now. A week ago? She wouldn't have cared, but these past few days have felt like a lifetime. They knew everything about each other now and had been through hell. She felt for him on a deep level, and hearing his talk like that made her want to hold him close and never let him out of her sight.

"Well, it's a possibility," Eddie shrugged.

"No, it's not," Rebecca said defiantly and looked at him dead in the eyes. "It's not because I am not letting that happen to you. I'm not letting anything happen to you, okay? I've lost too many people I care about."

Eddie's expression went from one of confusion to one of cheeky confidence and his cheeks turned pink. "So, you're saying you care about me?" Eddie probed.

"I've.. come to consider you a very close friend," Rebecca said and looked at her bat as she felt her cheeks heat up.

"I consider you a very close friend, too," Eddie said with a smile that had a hint of disappointment behind it. He let his hand fall onto hers and Rebecca smiled shortly as their fingers danced together until they were interlocked. She looked at their joined hands and then up at Eddie, whose eyes shone in the same hopeful way that they did in the mobile home. "Maybe even more."

"Eddie, we can't... we can't talk about this right now," Rebecca told him. "I want to, believe me, I want to, but..."

"More important things," Eddie said.

"Yeah," Rebecca said and relaxed her hand in his.

"Becca, if I don't make it... If I don't make it out of there, I need you to do something for me, okay?" Eddie asked in a solemn voice.

"Out of the question, Eddie, you can do it yourself," Rebecca said and shook her head as he spoke.

"Please, just listen. I need you to tell Wayne that I'm sorry and that he's the best uncle and father there ever was and that I love him," Eddie told her with a gentle squeeze of her hand and an intense look in her eyes. "And I need YOU to know..."

"Eddie, stop, you can tell me la--"

"I love you. I always have, and I need you to know that before I die, and I needed you to hear it from me," Eddie spoke over her. "I know I, um, drove you nuts for years and everyone told you to stay away from me, and they were right, but I, uh... I ache for you... in a way that I can't describe. Mostly because there's children here, but also because it completely transcends my vocabulary. You don't have to say anything, I just, um.. I needed you to know. In case I don't see tomorrow."

Rebecca was completely dumbstruck. Eddie's eyes were swimming with passion and tears as he confessed his feelings for her. Rebecca was frozen in shock and she wasn't able to move or even react. She sat there and listened as his voice echoed his confession in her head over and over. His hands held hers gently and the pads of his thumbs caressed the tops of her hands as he spoke. She wanted to scream at him, slap him, and kiss him all at the same time. Why would he say this to her now? Why couldn't she respond to him? Chrissy's words about everything falling into place made perfect sense to Rebecca now, but there was no way she could do anything about this. They were hours away from the fight of their lives in another dimension and here Eddie was, confessing the deepest feelings a person could have for another and Rebecca could only listen in shock.

Eddie smiled and let out a breath. His expression wasn't sad or heartbroken, he was... satisfied? Rebecca surmised that Eddie assumed she didn't return his feelings despite their moment in the mobile home and told her his feelings as a last wishes sort of testimony without expecting anything in return. Dustin walked back over and Eddie slowly let got of Rebecca's hands as the two boys picked up their shields and started to practice and play fight with them. Rebecca looked around and saw that nearly everyone had completed their projects and were starting to suit up into their protective gear. As the sun began to set, the group converged at the mobile home again and Nancy began to talk.

"Okay, so here is our plan. Lucas, Max, and Erica all go to Vecna's house in our Hawkins and wait until Me, Steve, and Robin are in the Upside Down at the playground. It is vital that you all remain quiet, we can't risk Vecna knowing we're there or he'll get wind of our plan," Nancy began.

"We've got notepads and markers for you guys to talk to each other," Robin said and handed the three notepads. "And take your shoes off when you walk around, the floors are creaky."

"Once we're in position, we begin phase one: Steve, Robin, and I will meet you, Erica, at the playground once you've located Vecna in the house. We're counting on him sensing Max's energy there by this point. Erica will then signal to Max and Lucas that we are ready to go into the house," Nancy instructed. Erica nodded.

"Phase two: Max baits Vecna. However you can draw him to you, keep him busy," Steve said with a worried look. "On to phase three: Eddie, Dustin and Becca draw the bats away from the house in the Upside Down."

Rebecca nodded and she, Eddie and Dustin shared a smile.

"Phase four: Robin, Steve, and I go in to the house and light Vecna up," Nancy said. "And when we're done, we drag his body back to the real Hawkins to clear Eddie's name."

The group nodded and Eddie hung his head. "Guys, don't worry about that."

"Shut up," Rebecca told him. "We're doing this, okay?"

"Yeah, don't be such a downer, dude. Once Vecna's dead, everything will be okay," Dustin said and patted Eddie on the back.

"Nobody moves on to the next phase until we've all copied," Nancy declared forcefully. She continued in the same forceful tone, "Nobody deviates from the plan, no matter what. Got it?"

"Got it," the group echoed.

"Let's go," Steve said and the group piled into the mobile home with weapons in hand.

“To Mordor,” Eddie sighed and stepped in.

#eddie x oc

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binxyu · 3 years

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A psychopath? Choi Chanhee? You couldn’t believe that when you first met him, a scared man in an alleyway. You tried to just offer him some help before turning him in, but feelings got in the way of that plan and, before you knew it, you were cuffed to a guy you had fallen in love with.

>>Pairing: Choi Chanhee (dom) x fem!reader (sub) | psychopath!chanhee x cop!reader

>>Word Count: 3.8k

>>Genre: Oneshot / Requested / Smut

>>Warnings/Kinks: Aftercare, blood/injuries, blowjob, bondage, breast play, choking, corruption, creampie, extreme degrading, hair pulling, manhandling, marking, mental illness, murder/death, overstimulation, possessiveness, rough sex, scratching, unprotective sex, and weapons

You had heard the gunshot before you saw him.

You always went on patrol in the area so hearing such things wasn’t new to you, but the noise always made a shiver go down your spine.

Cause with the sound of a gun always came death or injuries.

Your heart pounded against your chest as you rushed towards where you heard the deafening sound, the light of the moon shining down against your badge.

Sometimes you had wondered why you even decided to take night shifts, quickly finding out that the most brutal of crimes took place when the sun was set.

Your fingers tightened around your gun when you rounded the corner into an alleyway, the walls covered in moss and old graffiti.

There you saw Choi Chanhee.

Quickly, you had noticed that he was bleeding heavily and you rushed over, putting your gun back in your pocket and pressing down on the wound on his leg.

“Hey! What the fu-“, you put a little more pressure onto the wound when the bleeding didn’t stop and slowly it did, blood now covering your hands. The man could only let out a groan from the pain.

“What the hell did you do to get shot?”, you mumbled and ripped off a piece of your sleeve to wrap around his thigh as he watched you curiously.

He stayed silent and you wondered why. You were a complete stranger even if you were a cop and you assumed he retaliate or say thank you, but he never did.

He didn’t until you noticed something to your right, a flash of a badge similar to your own.

There, laying eerily still, was another officer. One with a chest soaked with blood.

“Shit”, the word barely came out before a gun was pressed against your head.

“Turn slowly darling”, he ordered and you slowly turned your body to look at him.

What had once been such an innocent, and dare you say cute, face was now dark and corrupted. A smirk played on his lips as he watched a shiver go through your body in fear.

“Ah, I’ll take those~”, he cooed and took the handcuffs off of your belt. As he fiddled with it, the gun dropped slightly and you came to the conclusion that possibly getting shot in the shoulder was better than letting this psychopath get away.

You quickly grabbed the handcuffs and tried to cuff the man, gripping the wrist with the gun and pushing it away. A bullet pierced the wall behind you as the gun fell from his hand, landing with a clatter on the concrete.

You had managed to cuff his other wrist, but he grabbed your own and cuffed the other onto you.

Now, you were stuck together.

You reached for your gun but it was quickly knocked out of your hand, sliding across the concrete to beside the dead officer.

The criminal pushed against your chest and you were pinned on the ground, squirming and trying to push him off of you. You could tell he was in pain from the movement and you pressed your knee against his wound, causing him to cry out in pain.

“Stop! I’m not going to hurt you”, his words were lies and every logical part of you knew that. A bullet had barely missed your head moments ago, but his voice sounded so desperate.

“Then why in the hell did you shoot him?”, you gestured your chin up a little in direction of the officer.

“Because he tried to take me back”, you didn’t understand what he meant until your eyes trailed down to his chest, his shirt reading ‘Seoul Asylum’.

You had dealed with clinically insane criminals before but not one that was a murderer.

“Okay, calm down uh-“, you waited, hoping the man would tell you his name.

“Chanhee. Choi Chanhee”, you wondered why he trusted you enough to actually tell you, but you let that question slip your mind.

“Calm down Chanhee. You’re okay. No one is going to take you back”, the words came out of you softly and, much to Chanhee’s dismay, they calmed him. His breathing was slowly steadying.

You immediately realized he wasn’t really an evil person. He was just terrified.

You looked into his eyes and only saw emptiness. Thoughts flew through your mind about how much the man had been through.

“See? Nothing bad. Now, let me call-“, you were cut off by a rough shake of his head.

“No! They’ll take me back”, he whimpered and you couldn’t tell if it was a trick or not, but you truly felt sympathy for him.

“Chanhee, did the officer look like something scary?”, Chanhee looked at you and then back at the officer, a shiver of fear going up his spine before he nodded.

“What did he look like?”, Chanhee’s grip on your wrists loosened and you gently carassed his cheek to try to keep his attention on you.

“A monster. He looks so scary. Like a demon. Big horns and flames everywhere. He was going to take me back to hell”, of course he would associate the asylum with hell. You had seen the place.

Hell was an understatement.

“Okay, Chanhee listen. We can keep the cuff on and I’ll protect you, okay? I’ll take you to my place and help you. But, you can’t hurt anyone else, okay?”, you waited for his response. You got a slow nod and he got off of you cautiously, obviously still scared.

You weren’t really going to let him get away with what he did, but you supposed helping him a little wasn’t bad.

“Wait, do I look like a monster?”, you asked as you both got up together. Chanhee looked at you, glancing over your entire body and your face before he was sure and shook his head.

“No, you look like an angel”, you blinked a few times in surprise and imagined what he could be seeing, making you laugh at the thought.

“Okay, you have to grab the guns Chanhee. I won’t touch them, but we need them”, you knew those guns would be great DNA traces and you needed them with you and not some other criminal that walked by.

“Why?”, he asked innocently and you got the sudden urge to pinch his cheeks but you wouldn’t.

“Cause we wouldn’t want any other demons to find them and get us”, despite the seemingly horrifying words your tone was soft. Chanhee’s lip quivered and he nodded, quickly heading with you to pick up the guns.

He shoved them into his pocket after putting the safety on and stared at you. He seemed calm now, but you knew from past experience that that would only last momentarily.

“Let’s go to my house now, okay?”, Chanhee nodded and followed behind you as you started to walk, the cuff around your wrist digging into your bare skin whenever he lagged a little.

Once you were inside of your home, Chanhee looked around and he hummed. It was a beautiful sound and you wondered what he must sound like singing.

“Okay, lets take the cuffs off so you can shower”, Chanhee immediately shook his head in disagreement. His arms wrapped around your waist and his face went to settle in your neck, inhaling your scent. The gesture would’ve felt nice if it wasn’t for your cuffed arm being in a rather uncomfortable position.

“Chanhee... let go”, you had to remember your place and his. He was a criminal. Your job was literally to catch criminals.

Not shower with them.

The man surprisingly listened and let go of you, stepping back a little. He fiddled with the cuffs and then looked back at you, a glowing hue around you. You literally looked like an angel to him.

“B-but you’ll leave”, you shook your head immediately at his statement, trying your best to reassure him.

“I won’t leave. I promise”, you put your pinky out slowly, not wanting to startle him. He smiled slightly and linked his pinky with your’s.

Oh, his smile is cute.

You forced the thought out of your head.

Chanhee allowed you to get the key for the handcuffs and unlock them, the handcuffs falling to the floor.

“There. All better, see?”, you smiled as you rubbed your wrist. Chanhee smiled and rubbed his own.

Chanhee grabbed your hand and started walking towards the bathroom, sitting on the side of the tub before he looked at you.

“Can you check my wound?”, he asked you and you nodded, turning around because he’d definitely have to take his pants off for that.

“Take off your pants and drape a towel over yourself if you can”, you didn’t see it but Chanhee smirked.

He could’ve definitely taken them off himself and he knew that. He’s been through much worse injuries.

“I can’t. It hurts really bad”, he whined and you sighed before turning back around, a blush forming on your cheeks when you saw that Chanhee had already been working on unbuttoning his jeans.

He definitely noticed your blush as you started to unbutton the rest and pull them down his legs. You grimaced when you looked at his thigh. Luckily, the bullet had only grazed him, but you could tell the man had aggravated the wound because it looks more than inflamed. It looked enraged.

“Hold on”, you whisper and moved to get your first aid kit. Chanhee watched you as you grabbed the kit from your unorganized cabinet and came back. You kneeled in front of him and Chanhee had to do everything in his power not to grip your hair and force your head down onto his crotch.

“It might sting a little, but it won’t for long”, Chanhee nodded slowly, biting down on his bottom lip as you started to clean the wound. He groaned under his breath as the stinging started and you apologized gently.

“There. All better”, you realized he needed to shower.

“You really can’t take them off yourself?”, your arms crossed over your chest as the man shook his head. You shook your head as you started to help him out of his clothes, keeping your eyes only on his face as you did.

Chanhee admired your rosy cheeks as you finally got him free of his clothes.

Everything in his world was dark except you.

Little did you know that also included him.

Eventually, it had been months since you had become Chanhee’s light.

You couldn’t bring yourself to ever turn him in. Especially when he always made an effort to help you.

He was oddly sweet for a psychopath.

He stayed in your home. Where he believed he was safe. Sometimes he’d leave at night, but he always came back home to hold you after a rough day or to joke around with you.

The only thing odd was that the less demons he began to see, the more demonic he himself had become.

Fear no longer masked who he was and you slowly realized that because, while he was sweet to you, he began to despise everyone around you.

“Y/n...”, Chanhee whispered as he held you in his arms. He was usually this clingy when you got home from work. He hated your job.

Not because you were a cop and he was a criminal but because you were almost always in a dangerous situation.

And you always smelt like the criminals you caught or your coworkers who hugged you after a highly wanted criminal was put in prison.

Chanhee hated that more than anything else.

You quickly realized that much.

“Chanhee... I’m fine”, you giggled and wrapped your arms around him too, trying to reassure him that nothing was going to happen to you.

Tragically, you had let the man steal your heart.

You loved him.

A murderer. A psychopath. A criminal.

How fucking ironic.

“Why do you always come home smelling like someone else? It makes me jealous”, you watched as that signature pout came across Chanhee’s face.

If you didn’t know better then you’d say he wasn’t really angry.

But you knew he was fuming internally.

“Chanhee, we’ve been over this. I’m not your’s”, you spoke the brutal truth, feeling your heart throb a little when you saw him frown.

It was the truth.

Chanhee never confessed to loving you too.

“You are. I’ll prove it”, it was shocking to hear such determined words come out of his mouth. A wave of pure excitement went through your body.

“How?”, you mumbled and his finger immediately went to settle under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

“May I... touch you?”, the question was soft spoken with absolutely no hint of force, but it lingered in your mind for a couple of minutes.

Was this right?

Eventually, you decided you wanted him and nodded.

You could feel your heart beating even harder then before as Chanhee leaned his face closer to your’s.

That’s when you noticed a vast difference in him. His eyes were dark, shaded over with lust.

He looked at you with such a primal desire that a wave of arousal went through your body.

“I feel like these are needed. They’re kinda why we’re together now”, Chanhee chuckled and you admired him as he took the handcuffs off your belt. You had never heard him laugh or chuckle. It was an amazing sound.

The cuffs were locked around your wrists, keeping them together behind your back. You squirmed as you got used to the knowledge that you were no longer in control.

“I always hated this damn uniform”, Chanhee gripped the inside of your shirt and ripped it open, something you didn’t think he would be able to do.

“Chanhee! I have to buy a new one now”, you huffed but he just shushed you and buried his face in your neck, kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin.

You looked down as he started to trail his finger down your stomach, noticing a small cross tattooed onto his left pinky. It was a small detail you had never noticed before, but it seemed to make the action so much more unholy.

Chanhee fingers started to work on unbuttoning your pants as he trailed his kisses down your body to your chest, swirling his tongue around your nipples.

The sensation sent a shiver up your spine and a soft moan slipped past your lips. It was the first time Chanhee had heard such a sound from you and he perked his head up to look at you.

You could tell something had snapped inside of him.

A wall that kept the darkness from destroying his angel. It disappeared.

Now, all he wanted to do was destroy that beautiful innocence inside of you.

“Fuck, make that sound again”, he groaned and bit down on your breast, causing a louder moan to come out of you, “you sound so pretty”.

You weren’t sure if it was his words, the way his fingers were stroking your folds through your panties, or the bite but you were drenched.

“Get on your knees angel”, the pet name sounded like honey as it came out, his voice no longer cute but rough instead.

You obeyed. For once, you never questioned what you were told to do. It was like he had you under a spell.

Chanhee licked his lips at the sight of you, looking up at him with your hands bound behind your back and only your soaked panties left on.

He quickly worked on getting his pants and boxers off, the unnecessary fabric falling to the floor before he stepped towards you.

Your eyes widened at the sight in front of you. He was so attractive and big. You weren’t sure if you could take him.

“Open up”, he tapped his tip against your bottom lip and you whimpered before opening your mouth wide obediently.

“You really don’t have any shame, hmm? How cute”, he cooed as he slipped his cock into your mouth, waiting for you to get used to it before he was roughly gripping your hair and thrusting into your throat. His stomach was almost pressed against your face when he went all the way in.

You had never felt so used and needy in your life, rubbing your clothed clit against his shoe in hopes that the friction would satisfy you. Chanhee felt the movement and you would’ve called the sound he made a growl if it was any lower of a groan.

You hallowed your cheeks to suck him, hoping to bring him to his orgasm quickly, in desperate need of his touch. He twitched in your mouth before he came into it moments later, filling your mouth with his seed.

“Swallow”, he ordered as he pulled out of your mouth, moving his foot so you couldn’t rub against it anymore. You listened and swallowed the slightly bitter tasting seed, feeling it go down your throat and rub against the walls of it.

“Good girl”, Chanhee smiled and patted your head once he let go of your hair. He picked you up bridle style and walked towards your bedroom, tossing you onto your stomach onto the bed.

You moved to get up and his hand wrapped around your neck from behind you hard enough to leave dark bruises on your flesh. His other hand gripped your panties and tore them off your body, the sound of the fabric ripping filled the room along with your heavy breathing.

“Angel, your thighs are covered in it”, Chanhee chuckled as he ran his finger up your thigh to collect your wetness on it, sucking on the digit to taste you.

“You taste amazing too. Do you really want me y/n?”, he asked you as he walked across the room, grabbing a black sharpie off of your desk and coming back.

“I really really want you”, you nodded enthusiastically, but the sound of the lid on the marker coming off made you turn your head to look at Chanhee.

He hummed and smiled at you, making your cheeks go a rosey red. Chanhee started to dig the marker into your skin, writing degrading words along your perked ass and curved back.

Words that showed you truly did belong to him.

And in the middle of all the ‘cumslut’s, ‘whore’s, and ‘needy bitch’s was Chanhee’s name in big bold letters in the middle of your back.

He leaned back to admire his work and licked his lips, rubbing your ass with his hands, causing some of the black ink to smudge.

“Are you ready?”, he asked, just a hint of the cute boy you once knew was there. He really needed to know if you were okay.

“I’m ready. Everything is okay”, you smiled slightly with a nod, your legs trembling when you felt Chanhee rubbing his tip against your folds.

Slowly, he pushed himself inside of you, knowing you had never done something like this. It felt like he was made for you, filling you to the brim as you cried out from the stretch.

His hips pressed against your ass, finally all the way in. He stayed still as he waited for you to adjust, groaning when you clenched around his length.

“M-move please”, the words came out in a stutter as your eyes rolled back, completely overwhelmed in pure ecstasy. Chanhee smirked and started to rough go in and out of your tight cunt.

“Fuck, you feel so amazing”, he groaned as he brushed against your g-spot, causing your back to arch. You had never felt so good and Chanhee wasn’t going to stop until he was sure of this fact.

Chanhee gripped your hair to pull your head back as he fucked you, moans falling from your lips as the pain and pleasure mixed. His other hand gripped your hip, his nails scratching the skin as his hips pressed against your ass. The marker smeared even more, showing up on his stomach and hips.

“Who do you belong to?”, he groaned and you struggled to get any words out. He knew that. He wanted to watch you struggle to compose yourself as he absolutely ruined you.

“I-I’m y-yours! All yours!”, you screamed out and he smiled sweetly, a sharp contrast to his words.

You clenched around him again, your pussy throbbing around his cock. You started shaking and you felt a knot start to form in your stomach.

Without warning, you released. Your cum coating Chanhee’s dick that was still thrusting deep inside of you. He didn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop.

Tears welled up in your eyes from the overstimulation. Heat engulfed your body as Chanhee leaned more into you, his chest pressed against your back so you couldn’t move.

Your hands gripped the cuffs around them to keep your mind intact. Otherwise, you probably would’ve already been fucked way beyond dumb.

“I’m going to cum angel”, you heard his voice in your ear but none of it had registered. You were too focused on all the sensations happening to your body.

Soon, Chanhee’s load was shot deep inside of you. You whimpered as you felt his cum stick to the innermost parts of you, a warmth erupting from the action.

He pulled out and you whined from the emptiness, but you slowly gained your sense back as your chest heaved in desperate attempts to get air.

“Are you okay?”, just like that, the cute Chanhee was back. The one that cared about your safety and wanted to hold you all the time.

It shocked you a little, but you smiled weakly and nodded.

“I’m okay”, your voice sounded hoarse from all the screaming and moaning so Chanhee uncuffed you before he went to get you a glass of water. He handed it to you once he helped you sit back up and you drank it, mumbling a thanks.

“I love you”, the words caused you to choke a little on your water before you looked at the man. He was serious. You could tell by his face.

“I love you too”, you spoke without thinking. Chanhee smiled and put his arm around your waist, placing a chaste kiss to the side of your head.

You two stayed there, cuddling and loving on one another. You were the only one Chanhee would ever want and he knew that. He’d never let anyone hurt you.

Sleep overcame you both until you woke up, hearing a familiar sound.

The sound of sirens.

Police sirens.

You quickly got up, startling Chanhee into waking up. He looked at you, his hair a mess and a groan slipping past his lips.

You heard the pounding on the front door and as the first officer ran in, the first pull of your trigger took place.

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remmushound · 3 years

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Curse of the Clan part 8! @brightlotusmoon @scentedcandlecryptid @digitl-art-monstr @selfindulgenz

Michelangelo didn't have the slightest idea where he would find a time seamer. He wasn’t even sure he knew what a time seamer was! He assumed it was something to do with time, since it was right there in the name, but beyond that he had no idea. When he was faced with the possibility of having to do such a daunting task alone, his brothers all busy with their own missions, it only served to make his mind even more blank. He couldn’t do this alone— not something as important as this! So he decided to call the most knowledgeable yokai he knew to help.

“DRAXUM! HI!” Michelangelo ran forward, hugging Baron Draxum’s bony body and giving quick, excited chirps. almost like a kitten who wasn’t quite sure how to meow yet.

“Hello orange turtle child.” Draxum sighed and brought his hands to rest on Michelangelo’s shell, though it wasn’t quite a hug. “What’s the problem this time?”

“How do you know there’s a problem?”

Baron Draxum raised an eyebrow. He pulled away and crossed his arms, tapping his right pointer finger on his left bicep as he waited. Michelangelo, knowing he had been called out, decided to just get to the point before Draxum judged him even harder.

“Okay, sooo…” Michelangelo explained everything quickly, which seemed too fast for Draxum to keep up with. Several times he asked Michelangelo to slow down or repeat words. Both parties were relieved when Michelangelo finally reached the end of his story. “...and now I need to find a time seamer! Do you know of any yokai it might be?”

“Hm…” Draxum tapped his lip, his eyes staring off into the distance as the cogs churned in his mind. “The… name sounds familiar, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. There are so many yokai with so many variations that it would be impossible to deny such a creature’s existence. Some yokai are known to be able to manipulate time, but such creatures are the old yokai and they still live in their homelands. There are certainly none here in the city that I know of, but I doubt I know every yokai.”

By then, Baron Draxum was practically ignoring Michelangelo as he started to pace, lost in his own thoughts. If Michelangelo hadn’t moved out of the way, the faun would have trodden on him. The box turtle was used to the lost look and calculating eyes, so he just stood by and patiently waited for Draxum to get his words out.

“Hm… I am of no use to you on my own without knowledge of such creatures, but I suppose I could aid in your search by increasing your chances of accidentally running into someone who does know...” Baron Draxum’s eyes sparked to life quite suddenly and he snapped. “And I know just the place!”

***

Donatello had wanted to fly in a helicopter, but he always imagined it would be with his brothers and April and Splinter. Not alone thousands of feet in the air with a bunch of armed guards he didn't know and didn't dare try to. For all his confidence and ambition, he was just as anxious as Raphael was in new environments, except without the violent outbursts of uncontrollable aggression. Donatello had his fair share of outbursts, sure, but his were more controlled than the snapper turtle could hope to achieve, and he only ever let himself stoop so low once or twice in his life. He tried not to think of that.

They passed over an ocean, the Pacific from what Donatello could tell. After hours of waiting, ocean turned to mainland as they passed over villages and cities that shined even brighter than New York. Though Donatello had no anxiety looking down upon the cities far below, his hand still went to grip at his carapace to reassure himself he had the hover shell with him in case he did happen to fall. He leaned as far over the edge as he dared to watch the blurred, bright buildings, and he felt sad when they passed over the city and came to a forest blanketed in beautiful white snow.

Donatello leaned back inside. His hand went, of course, to grab for his bo staff before he remembered it wasn’t his. Even if it was his by ownership, the wood finish almost as smooth as his tech bo had been, he still forced the bubbling hatred of the weapon to the front of his thoughts. This was a primitive weapon from a culture lost to time! Why should he be stuck with something so old, something so simple? Something that was such a downgrade from the tech he knew!?

Donatello gave a loud, long sigh and slumped. His hand went to his neck and gripped at the necklace hanging down over his plastron. A sea-turtle shaped chamber protected the fragile and beloved memory chip within. The heart of his dear Shelldon. He could feel the gentle mystic energy pulsating from it and closed his eyes to better feel the life energy within.

“Soon…” He whispered to the necklace, bringing the chamber up to press it gently to his lips. “You’ll be back soon, Shelldon…”

The journey took another half hour before one of the armed guards stood up to address Donatello, yelling over the scream of the blades as they worked to keep the helicopter in the air.

“This is the drop point!” The voice called.

Donatello peered over the edge of the helicopter. “I don’t see any places where we could land.”

“Exactly!” The guard called.

Donatello turned to the guard just as a parachute was shoved against his chest.

“Put this on! You’ll have to jump! When you reach the drop zone, there will be a path. Follow it toward the mountain until you reach a cave.”

“What do I do when I get to the cave?” Donatello easily slipped into the parachute.

“You wait for us to come back to get you.”

“Aight, bet.” Donatello went to the edge.

“Wait— let me make sure you’re properly secured—“

“BON VOYAGE!”

Donatello fell backward out of the helicopter. The rush of air and adrenaline was always one of Donatello’s favorite sensations. He closed his eyes to enjoy the rushing chill, one hand holding Shelldon’s Heart securely while the other groped for the pully of the parachute. He pulled it after several passing moments and his body immediately jerked up as the parachute bore him into the air. Only then did he open his eyes, his free hand going to grab at the wires holding him.

Donatello looked down at the forest under his feet and up at the helicopter still hovering in place. Once he was sure the brunt of the wind was over, Donatello dare let go of his necklace to grab the wires on the other side of him to help guide his path.

By the time his feet touched down, his entire body was already numb from the weightlessness and the chill of the atmosphere. He was used to flying, sure, but not for so long without landing. He was relieved for a moment when his feet touched down, but quickly became just as uncomfortable with the cold wetness of the snow. Before heading off, he opened the supply bag that Bishop had provided him with. To his relief, tucked safely inside was a hoodie and hats and gloves made specially for his hand. He wished he had put them on before he had started to freeze, but it was better late than never. More importantly, there were shoes. He suited up and swung the supply sack over his shoulder, abandoning the parachute in favor of traveling light.

He supposed he had deviated a bit from the intended drop site, since it took a while for him to find the path that he had been told about. He did find it eventually though, and he followed the instructions to head toward the mountains. The trees reaching up to the skies blocked out most of the light around him, but the trail seemed surprisingly well-kept for something so hidden from the rest of the world. He couldn’t imagine anyone would spend their time coming out here to trim this one particular trail in this one terrifying forest. It was something so surreal it made Donatello get tingles up the spines of his shell and he grabbed once more for Shelldon’s Heart to comfort himself.

Donatello almost screamed when the silent forest rustled. Something jumped onto the path, and Donatello grabbed for the bo staff. No matter how rudimentary, it could still get the job done if it needed to. Then Donatello was almost glad that his brothers weren’t around to see him scream, because the creature certainly wasn’t scream-worthy.

It was a fox. A small, ginger fox with black ears and legs, it’s underside and muzzle as white as the surrounding snow. Eyes of amber stared back at Donatello, the fox hardly reacting to the shout beyond tilting its head in a question.

“Ugh.” Donatello scrunched up his nose, pulling his bo back to his body and waving his foot at the fox trying to get it to run away. “Go away. Shoo.”

The fox stood up. Donatello immediately pulled back, grabbing his staff and holding it in a ready position as the fox advanced on him. Yet, even as it continued to get closer, Donatello made no attempt to hit it. He fell against a nearby tree, still holding his staff out in front of him. His eyes squeezed shut and he pulled his head deeper into his shell as he tried to keep the fox away. He opened his eyes after several long seconds and blinked the tears away. The fox was just sitting there innocently, head still titled it stared at Donatello like he was insane.

“Oh uh… hello.”

Donatello yelped as the fox jumped to prop its legs on the bo staff, snapping at Donatello’s head. Donatello covered his head with his hands trying to protect himself, but he soon realized the fox wasn’t after mauling him. He realized it a few seconds too late, however, as the fox snatched his goggles from off his head and ran off with it.

“Hey! My tech!” Donatello jumped up to chase after the fox as it disappeared into the forest. The minute he stepped from the forest trail, two heavy weights landed on his shoulders. Donatello screamed for the third time, trying to swat whatever the animals were away. The animals gave what could have almost been a mocking giggle as they grabbed the shoulder straps of his battle shell and lifted it off of his back. “MY BATTLE SHELL!”

The tanuki gave another chuffing giggle as they disappeared deeper into the forest with the precious gear. Donatello was near tears— no, he realized, he was crying. He hugged his supply sack tightly to his chest and rubbed his thumb across the smooth chamber of Shelldon. He fell into the snow, hugging both supply and his precious drone’s heart and praying his brothers would hurry.

#more Draxum!#Bon voyage!

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anika-ann · 4 years

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The Troubles Are Lurking in Queens - Pt.2

Of Not So Funny Billionaires and Terrified Husbands

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader Word count: 2960

Type: Two-shot, reader insert

Summary: When an arrogant lawyer demands his paperwork right now or better yet this very moment, you’re a good wife to Matt and decide to deliver the documents yourself – for your husband’s mental health sake (and for the sake of the meeting he’s running to).

The catch is the said lawyer has his office in Queens – and whoever said Hell’s Kitchen was the least safe place in NYC was clearly lying. Also, Tony Stark is... Tony Stark.

Warnings: swearing, mention of attempted assault, mention of past torture, some blood, Tony being a jerk

Part 1

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Spiderman apparently didn’t take no for an answer.

The office wasn’t on the way, but Spiderman delivered the papers anyway; you thought Davidson’s secretary’s face was priceless at least as Spiderman with a woman in his arms knocked on the window of her office, but anyway. Your way included a lot of not exactly secure flying around in the vigilante’s thin and somehow strong arms (enhanced strength?), only holding onto buildings via some sort of a web fibre and it was a fucking wonder you hadn’t either ended up smashed on a side of some building or hadn’t puked by the time you magically landed on the roof of the Avengers Tower.

Also, you were pretty sure some of your blood had rained down on someone and it was an awful idea you couldn’t shake off.

You were clutching your chest trying to catch your breath as the kid let go of you slowly, gentlemanly making sure you wouldn’t faint. Well. Now he was concerned about that?

“Welcome, sweetheart!” Stark’s voice sounded behind you as the billionaire walked in your direction with his arms wide open.

You on the other hand looked at him murderously. Was this really necessary?

“You know Mr. Stark?” the kid asked in awe.

You swallowed the ‘unfortunately’ line and pressed your lips together.

“Tony. What a wonderful surprise. How are you these days?” you wondered with a fake smile and he grinned wider, enveloping you in a hug. You didn’t reciprocate the gesture too happily, but you… tried.

“On a first name basis with Mr. Stark and hugging him? Holy hell!”

You rolled her eyes and spent a precious second thinking what the kid would say to what was coming next. The moment Tony withdrew, you slapped him, because you really needed to slap someone today. Tony was lucky your dominant hand was cut and you used your weaker one.

He tried to set his jaw right as if it really hurt anyway. The Spiderkid fell into shocked silence.

“That’s for using a poor kid for dragging me where I don’t want to go just for your fun or whatever,” you hissed and Tony licked his lips.

“Yeah, okay, I deserved this one.”

“Glad you acknowledge that.”

You tried not to think too hard about that you slapped a man who had once saved your husband’s life. You sighed, coming for another, this time gentler, hug, still wary of not staining his t-shirt with your blood. You probably failed.

“Sorry I couldn’t make it to the wedding.”

“We were hoping you wouldn’t,” you teased, feeling a bit guilty for a) slapping him and b) being cranky. Tony was a bit of a dick, but a good guy. That was why you had decided to send him an invitation along with the other Avengers, who had saved Matt’s life one of the times he had got over his head and you walked into the Avengers Tower begging for help.

“I bet it was boring without me.”

“Totally,” you laughed, letting go of him.

“So… I understand this is some sort of a reunion, but a) I’m not a kid,” the teenage vigilante defended himself and you bit your cheek to stop yourself from protesting. “And b) shouldn’t her hand be handled? I mean, that’s why I brought her here?”

You smiled at the kid. He was cute. “Yeah, Tony. Shouldn’t my hand be handled?”

It was handled, by doctor Cho, who was usually taking care of bullet wounds, knife-in-liver wounds and stuff like that. She was incredibly nice, especially when you considered the shit she was dealing with.

The doc was just finishing your bandage – you only needed two stiches – when your ringtone cut the air and all four present – you, Doctor Cho, Tony and Spiderman – jumped a little.

“Hand me the phone someone, please?”

“FRIDAY, who’s calling?” Stark called out and you were kinda hoping it was just for show. They wouldn’t know that without looking, right?

“Contact saved as Matt, sir.”

How the fuck the AI could tell that? Also… ah-oh.

“That’s a little boring I was expecting something more original. Sugar-bear. Bumblebee. FRIDAY, put it on speaker.”

You just gaped. How?! And was he serious?

“Oh, and mute her voice.”

“What?!”

“Are you okay?” Matt’s panicked voice demanded from the speakers in the corners of the room and you breathed in to calm his fright – wherever it came from. “Davidson called there was blood on the papers and-“

Oh crap, learning that must have been terrible. Also, you were sure Davidson had been a dick about it as well, probably complaining about dangerous biological material in his office.

“I’m fine, Matt,” you reassured him.

His terrified voice called out your name. “Are you there? Can you hear me?”

You opened your mouth uselessly. Was this for real? Could he really not hear you somehow? What the fuck?! Why would-

“Hey, buddy!” Tony chipped enthusiastically and your blood ran cold. Oh no. No, no, no, no…

Even through the phone, you could hear your husband’s breath hitch. “Who are you? How did you get this phone?”

You could only imagine Matt’s sightless eyes flickering wildly as he was trying to figure out the worst possible bloody scenario.

“I’m-“ you started, but Tony rolled his eyes at your attempts.

“Relax. I’m just having a little fun-“

Spiderman rose to his feet as he apparently wanted to protest too, but Tony shushed him.

“Who are you? What did you do? What do you want?” Matt’s voice changed dangerously, switching to the Daredevil persona and demanding answers. “I swear if you touch one hair on her head, I’m going to tear your limbs off one after another-“

Spiderman shrieked at the cruel threat and the way it was delivered. You gently pushed away Doctor Cho, standing up and making your way to the billionaire with your blood boiling.

“Tony, stop this right now,” you growled, your voice resembling the one speaking through the phone. He was scaring Matt out of his mind. Couldn’t he see that this wasn’t fun?

“Come on! Light up! I’m just gonna-”

“Don’t you dare to hurt her!” Matt thundered and Tony actually jumped at the sound of Matt’s teeth grinding.

“Alright, alright! Jeez, can’t you recognize an old pal? Jesus, DD,” Tony complained and the room was suddenly very quiet.

“Tony, let me to talk to him.”

“Let her talk to him, Mr. Stark,” the kid supported you and you were sure he made some sort of puppy eyes behind his mask.

Matt didn’t react to learning the name of your ‘captor’. Which meant he was probably really pissed or too shocked. Or that Stark somehow blocked his voice too.

“Tony-“ you pressed and he sighed in defeat.

“Yeah, yeah, FRIDAY-“

There was a beep.

“Matt, it’s me. Are you there?” you asked softly, hearing his sharp inhale. “I’m okay-“

“She’s injured-“

“Shut up!” you shouted Tony down, spinning to him with your hand raised in warning. He had already said enough.

“Well, you are,” Spiderkid noted carefully and you gritted your teeth.

“I’m okay, Matt. I’m in the Avengers tower-“

“Medical wing,” Tony supplied helpfully and you grabbed the nearest thing – which happened to be a metal platter – and lashed it his direction. He shielded his face, silent ‘ow’ escaping him as the improvised weapon hit his hands.

“I’m on my way,” Matt exclaimed.

“Wait-“

There was only a dialling tone and you whined. You measured to Tony with fire in your eyes.

“I’m sorry?” he offered, shrugging with his palms up.

“You are such a dick! Complete and utter dick! You scared the shit out of him!” you yelled at the man who wore almost genuinely apologetic expression. But you didn’t care if he was sorry. He almost gave Matt a freaking heart attack! He had no idea what had-- you squatted for the platter, fully intending to use it again as the idiot was in your reach. “You fucker, you dickhead! You careless fuck-up!”

Each of the insults was accompanied by a hit with the platter. No one stopped you. Tony wisely covered his head. You were sure you it hurt as hell anyway, but somehow it didn’t sooth your nerves.

“I’m sorry, okay?”

“The last fucking time someone had my phone and talked to Matt was when I was kidnapped by Wilson. Fucking. Fisk! He threatened to break my spine to paralyse me, you. Selfish. Arrogant. Bastard!”

Fuck, you were crying and your hands were shaking, suddenly feeling too weak.

You let go of the platter, overwhelmed by the memory yourself; the knife cutting through your skin when the huge man hadn’t liked your answers to his questions, his threats, Matt’s terrified voice on the other end of the line-

The clatter of the platter on the floor snapped you back into reality, but the images didn’t disappear. You brought your hands to your mouth to muffle the scream that drew to your lips.

“Madam?” sounded hesitantly behind you and you tried to blink away the freaking tears and chase away the nasty memory, unable to respond to the kid. It’s gone now, it’s in the past, I’m okay, I’m okay, Matt’s okay— just give me a fucking minute dammit. “Madam, can I hug you?”

You burst out laughing at the request; hysterical laugh during an emotionally heavy situation, the first sign of insanity.

“Oh my god. Yeah, yeah, you can, kid.”

The vigilante obediently wrapped his strong but toothpicks-like arms around your shoulders, embracing you tightly yet gently. He avoided applying a pressure against your belly with surprising grace. He didn’t even call you out on the ‘kid’ addressing. You were really starting to like him.

Maybe it was the costume – the armour – but it was kinda soothing. Maybe it was the knowledge he had to deal with Tony too often, so it felt like he was an ally of yours. You leaned into the hug gratefully and he caressed your back.

“You’re good at this,” you mumbled into the strange material of his suit.

“Thanks, madam.”

You chuckled at the addressing and asked him to call you your first name.

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Tony bullied you into a check-up; like the periodical check-up all pregnant women had to attend.

“Tony, I was at doctor’s three days ago-“

“But I upset you and stressed you big time. Don’t you think you should have another examination? Just to be sure?” he pressed, trying to make puppy eyes. Vainly – you had enough training at resisting the puppy eyes master Matt Murdock himself, Tony’s attempts were nothing compared to that.

“Tony, honestly, I just want to get the hell out of here ASAP,” you cooled him down. You were still pissed at him. A lot.

“FRIDAY! Call Doctor Cho back!”

And just like that, the poor doc who had silently disappeared during the fight had to come back and examine you again. With USG and everything. You didn’t have the strength to argue anymore and you didn’t want to make Doctor Cho’s job harder than it already was by working for Tony Stark in the first place.

You didn’t expect anything being wrong – yet, you couldn’t supress the relief washing through your body as the doctor told you both you and your baby were fine.

Also, the check-up filled the time, so you didn’t get the opportunity to pace nervously. You were getting dressed again when Matt’s voice entered the room.

“(Y/N)!” he called out and you wordlessly asked the doctor to get rid of the curtain separating your and the rest of the world. Not that it made a difference to Matt – it did to you.

“Matt, hey!” you greeted him, rising from the bed so he could see you were perfectly healthy. The impression was ruined a bit by your head spinning and the need to support yourself onto the bed, but hey, you tried.

Matt was crossing the distance between you two in rapid pace, his cane folded in his hand, his glasses covering too little of his worried expression.

“What happened? Are you okay? I mean, of course you’re not-“

“I’m okay, Matt,” you assured his softly as he threw the cane away carelessly and enclosed you in a bone-crushing hug. He nuzzled his nose in your hair, breathing in deeply. You kissed the side of his neck. “I’m fine, Matt, I swear.”

“I smell blood,” he protested, wounded by the lie. “When I heard someone else on the phone, I— I-“

You wrapped your arms around him gently, one of your hands interweaving in his hair, stroking comfortingly. He squeezed a little tighter.

“Tony is a dick. I’m so sorry he scared you. And… I’m sorry if Davidson was being an asshole about the papers-“

“Do you really think I care about some arrogant self-important asshole right now?” he asked hoarsely and you sighed, your lips caressing his skin again.

“No. But I’m still sorry.”

“ ‘kay. Noted. God, I’m glad you’re okay, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have let you-“

“Don’t even finish that thought,” you warned him, smacking his back a little. He caressed your lower back in return as an apology for trying to make a guilt trip. You knew he would be still blaming himself even when not saying it out loud, but you could work with that better. And later. In private.

“So… this is the guy who threatened to tear your limbs off, Mr. Stark?” the kid asked slowly and you bit your lip, loosening the hug just slightly in favour to glance his direction over Matt’s shoulder.

Yeah, you could see how this was confusing. After all, Matt was blind and right now looking like a cuddly teddy bear. God, you loved him for how caring and loving he was.

“This is the guy who saved me from getting mugged… potentially shot,” you whispered, feeling Matt’s body going tense at the reminder of the danger you had been in. His hand clutched at your shirt before letting go of you, turning in the direction of the young man’s voice.

“Thank you,” Matt said in earnest, extending his hand for the Spiderkid to shake. The vigilante squeaked, but lost his glove and accepted Matt’s hand.

“You’re— you’re welcome, sir. She… she was a great help actually, it was pleasure to save her, though she almost saved herself on her own-” he babbled nervously and Matt covered the back of kid’s hand with his left palm.

“I’m still grateful. And it’s Matt.”

The younger vigilante let out a surprised sound. “No prob, sir— Matt, sir.” The corners of your lips twitched. “I’m Spiderman. But you probably know that… or not. ‘cause you haven’t seen me in the news— oh god, oh frack, I’m really putting my foot in my mouth-“

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Spiderman. Thank you again for saving my wife’s life.”

The two men finally released each other’s hands and Matt immediately turned back to you as you approached him. He wrapped his arm around your waist, kissing your temple lovingly, his thumb stroking your hip.

“So…” Stark started, making you both spun in his direction involuntarily. You couldn’t help but shot him an annoyed and angry look. Matt was significantly better seeing you were okay, but make no mistake, you were still incredibly pissed.

“Mr. Stark-“

“Alright! I’m really sorry, okay? Really, really sorry. It was a dick move!” Tony admitted and you were almost surprised at him acknowledging his mistake so openly. He turned rather to Matt then. “But you don’t need to worry, Murdock, I got her checked up and both of your girls are fine.”

Your heart stopped. Matt froze in the middle of his soothing periodical motions. The room fell into silence. You were afraid to even breathe in.

Did he just… did he-

“Both— both of my girls?” Matt choked out at your side and your slow brain was still processing the information you were just given. Oh my god.

“Yeah, Cho managed to check them up both.”

“Both… my— my-- girls,” Matt stuttered and his posture shifted slightly so he could face you without stopping touching you. “We’re-“

You and Matt had never asked your doctor whether you were having a boy or a girl. You had refused to know when the doctor had offered, because you didn’t want to know before Matt would and then you had talked to Matt, learning he wouldn’t want to know either.

Well.

Hell.

You were… having a girl. You didn’t know which option you had wanted until this moment, you just knew you somehow felt you were having a boy. Apparently, you were wrong.

And it was beautiful. So beautiful you felt tears in your eyes. You were having a girl.

You gulped, reaching out to uncover Matt’s eyes, putting his glasses away before squeezing his hand on you lightly. You raised your face to his; his brown eyes were… shining with gold threads and twinkling with tears just like yours.

You couldn’t let out a single word. It turned out you didn’t have to.

Matt’s free hand reached for your cheek, cupping it tenderly and his lips met yours in a careful light touch. And another one, And one more.

“…they didn’t know the sex and I just told them, didn’t I?” Tony’s voice sounded from an awfully huge distance and you smiled into the kisses you kept receiving, curling your fingers in Matt’s hair, returning his affection.

“I think so, Mr. Stark. I don’t think they mind too much though,” Spiderman hummed, sounding a bit amused and absolutely moved by the scene in front of him.

“Cover your eyes kid, the adults are having a moment.”

“Cover your eyes yourself… this is way better than a movie,” the teenage vigilante mumbled and they all pretended they didn’t hear it. You just secretly decided you adored the kid.

But you could never love the kid more than your own; your own babygirl.

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M.M. masterlist

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So… this happened? Somehow? Oh no, I made it fluffy… :D

Thank you for reading!

#marvel #fanfiction #matt murdock #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil #daredevil x you #daredevil x reader #daredevil imagine #peter parker imagine #peter parker #spiderman #spiderman imagine #the troubles are lurking in queens #anika ann

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hailbop1701 · 3 years

Text

ReaperXFem!Reader

Doom: To Hell And Back

Chapter 9: Siberia

Guys this is it! The final official chapter! The journey has been amazing so far and I am truly lucky to have all of you go through it with me! But we're not done yet! There is so much in store for John and Crow! Stay tuned! (As usual no beta)

-H❤🖖

The sound of distant gunfire pulled you from the dark, a fire burned at your back. A hiss of pain escaped your lips, “I hope I never have to do that again,” your voice came out raspy, your mouth dry as the desert above you. Making the necessary checks, nothing seemed too bad, well besides the giant burn on your back. Finding purchase you pushed yourself off of the ground, wincing at all the aches and pains. Climbing to your feet, you stumble into the corridor wall. The gunfire continued making you look for your weapon, groaning in frustration you saw it amongst the debris warped and battered.

You pulled your sidearm from its holster; using the wall as a crutch you made your way in the direction of the gunfire. The ARK chamber.

The trek took longer than it should have; panting you gripped the edge of the stone doorway that led into the ARK. “Hello, Crow,” a voice growled from behind you, a large hand landed on your shoulder and squeezed. Yelping in pain you were swiveled around so you were facing Sarge, his eyes seemed to glow unnaturally. He grinned like a predator, the grip on your shoulder getting tighter. “Murderous son of a-”

And before you knew what was happening you were flying through the air. You landed with a strangled cry, crashing into an abandoned security desk. Crumpling to the ground you gasped out, pain scorched through your body like a wildfire. Gingerly you lifted your arm to your chest, ‘broken’ you grumbled. Sarge was on you again, he reached down with a sadistic smile and wrapped a meaty hand around your throat. The air entering your body suddenly stopped as he lifted you off of the ground. Your heart pounded in your ears while your head throbbed and bled freely; shifting your eyes you saw them and worry coursed through you.

Sam and Duke skidded to a halt by the entrance, clawing at Sarge’s hand you kick your feet out bracing them against his chest trying desperately to get out of his grasp. It didn’t phase him in the slightest. Sam held Duke back from raising his gun, “You might hit (Y/N),” she said worriedly.

Sarge turned, your body struggling in grasp. “Duke, fall in! We got shit to do!” Sarge barked and Duke scowled stepping in front of Sam. “With all due respect Sarge but fuck you,” he hissed raising his gun. Sarge chuckled and held you up like a dying shield; Duke wavered uncertainly.

“Go!” you managed to gasp out pleadingly. “Da’mit Duke, go” you gurgled vision dimming at the lack of oxygen. Duke cursed and dragged Sam back out the ARK chamber door. Sarge chuckled darkly glancing at the quarantine timer, “I’ll find them soon,” he promised. You hissed, one of your hands falling limply to your side as your struggling stopped. Sarge set down his rather large gun, sniffing the air. He brought his empty hand to your hair and petted you softly.

“Well, that’s new,” he purred, sniffing again. His grip on your neck loosened slightly allowing a minuscule amount of air back into your lungs. ‘I’ll take whatever I can get,’ you thought numbly. Sarge lowered you to the floor but kept his hold on your throat,

“I just might keep you alive,” he purred stroking your cheek. Wrinkling your nose at the promises in his words you glare at him,

“Sorry, Sarge but I’m just not that into you,” you growled your hand brushing over the knife on your hip. Sarge just chuckled removing his hand from your throat so he could grip your chin, his hold caused your cheeks to puff into a pout.

“I would gladly take you here and now,” his chest rumbled in an animalistic growl. His words made a chill travel up and down your spine, “Here’s an idea, how about you go fuck yourself,” you snarled. Swiftly pulled the knife out of its sheath you drive it into the junction between Sarge’s shoulder and neck.

The man howled in pain instantly letting you go. Baring his teeth Sarge swung; you flew through the air into the security desk again officially shattering the glass and plastic. A newfound pain blossomed over your body, “I really have to learn not to agitate things that are infected with C24,” you cried letting your head drop with a dull thud. Your hands drifted to your stomach a large shard of glass was sticking out of your abdomen.

Sarge loomed over you looking mildly disappointed as if he accidentally broke his new toy. “Damn,” he grumbled before moving away to let you bleed out. What’s left of the adrenaline that had been pouring through you all night had finally drained away. Through the pain, you started to feel cold and numb, ‘that’s not good,’ you thought weakly. The sound of talking and shouting pulled you back from submerging into the dark, “She’s dead Reaper,”

A howl of rage echoed across the room and the sound of fighting. Flesh punching flesh and the boom of what had to be Sarge’s “BFG,”

“(Y/N), oh my God!” Sam flew to your side ducking low before falling to her knees beside you. Duke ran to your other side and rested a friendly hand on your forehead. You cried out when Sam gently pressed her hands around the glass, “It’s okay, you’ll be okay!” Sam sobbed.

She took away her hands and reached into her pocket fumbling with the tiny vial. “Sam,” Duke warned uneasily as he held one of your hands. Sam set the vial down so she could fumble through your pockets looking for a spare syringe. Finding one in your hip pouch, Sam snatched the vial up off the ground.

“Pull the glass out,” Sam whispered to Duke as she injected C24 into your neck. You whimpered when Duke carefully pulled the shard of glass from your abdomen, “You’ll be alright baby doll,” he murmured smoothing down your hair while placing his other hand over his sidearm. The fighting grew more intense making both Sam and Duke duck and bend over you like two concerned parents. You looked at them blearily a few tears escaping your eyes, your vision getting darker and darker by the second. “You’ll be okay,” Sam soothed placing her hand over Dukes, the sound of ARK activating in the background made them peer over the broken security desk. “(Y/N)!” John’s voice echoed through your head as you faded away.

Whispers and warmth greeted you when you swam back to the surface of consciousness again. For the millionth time that night. Everything ached like growing pains but you no longer felt intense pain. Opening your eyes took some effort but when you did you immediately regretted it, “Oh what the fuck,” you groaned scrunching up your nose in distaste. You snapped your eyes closed again hoping to keep the bright lights at bay.

The whispers turned into amused chuckles, “Welcome back to the land of the living,” Duke said somewhere to your left. “Why is it so damn bright?” you hissed turning your head away into a rough vest. That’s when you realized, arms held onto you, and the warmth that you were thoroughly enjoying belonged to someone. Someone who smelt rather nice, opening up your eyes again, you look up. John looked down at you with his dark hazel eyes,

“I’m still trying to get used to it,” he chuckled, he smiled down at you crookedly. You groaned a little, “Right, I’m superhuman now,”

Sam peered over at you with her own grin, “I’m just glad you’re not insane and trying to eat people,” she teased. You snort and gave her a thumbs-up, “I aim to please,”

John looked like he was struggling with something and kept sniffing the area near your hair. “Do I smell that bad?” you asked jokingly.

Duke snorted, “I think we all smell damn bad,” he grumbled sniffing his pits with a grimace. John’s quiet laughter shook you gently, “No you don’t smell bad,” he whispered to you. He looked away as the elevator became a little tense. Sam snickered, “So uh how did all this spider webbing get into your hair?” she asked picking a few more wisps from your head.

You shudder, “Spiders, never again. I officially have a phobia,” you muttered resting your head against John’s shoulder in defeat. The elevator slowed to a stop and dinged; the doors opened revealing a platoon’s worth of soldiers. They stood there, weapons aimed, red dot sites dancing over you and the others. Duke and Sam put up their hands as John led them onto the tarmac,

“Stand down!” a voice shouted and the red dots disappeared. A familiar man pushed through the crowd, “Crow!” he shouted jogging over to the elevator entrance. You gripped John’s vest and whipped your head around, “Hunter!” the relief in your voice was evident. You were so happy to see your commanding officer that you didn’t notice John stiffen. His arms tightened around you as Gunnery Sergeant Edward Cayden approached.

“Ed, Siberia,” you hissed making eye contact with him. Your CO stiffened upon hearing the code word; to everyone on your team it meant danger, get out now. His eyes went from concern to serious, nodding once Hunter led your small group to a waiting chopper. Everyone from RRTS unit 4 was there, they all looked relieved to see that you were alright. Big brothers and crazy uncles the lot of them. Hunter spoke lowly into the team’s comm, “Siberia,”

They all stiffened before they wrapped the survivors up in a protective bubble. “Icarus, Manny, why don’t you take over for our pilots,” Hunter suggested casually. Both men broke off from the group swiftly and opened the front cab of the helo, the pilots protested but did as they were told anyway. Hunter activated the main door and watched as everyone piled in; one of the boys offered to take you but John simply ignored him and stepped up into the transport with little difficulty.

“Leave them be Rust,” Hunter barked when the man began to protest. You gave your team a reassuring smile hoping to put everyone at ease. Sam took the seat next to when John set you down and buckled you in. She took your hand, eyes flitting from face to face, “It’s okay,” you whispered to her but made sure John and Duke heard you as well. A solid fifteen minutes after takeoff Hunter crouched in front of your lips pressed tightly together.

“What do you need kid?” he whispered, no one spoke as they watched you. Taking a deep breath you looked your friend dead in the eye, “To disappear,”

The men looked at each other and nodded, “I can’t ask any of you-” you hurried over your words but your unit already began making preparations. They stripped their comms and pulled apart their weapons. Rust moved over to a panel in the floor and yanked it up revealing a mass of wires and circuits, he fiddled for a moment before yanking out a few bits of tech. The mass of wires sparked for a moment and settled again.

“Tracker is offline, we’re ghosts for a little while,” he said and Hunter nodded once. “Icarus, we need to disappear,” he pounded on the cockpit door. A double-tap of understanding echoed back. He looked back at you and the shocked faces of your companions, “Time to become ghosts!” he cheered enthusiastically.

“Hunt-” you protested and the men started shouting at you to shut up; smirking you looked down at your feet. Hunter stopped in front of you while the tech of your ragtag team tossed the trackers out the partially opened door. “You’re family (Y/N) and if you of all people invoked Siberia then-” he looked around and the men began whooping in agreement, “Then something big went down and we need to get you out of the fire,”

“What happened sis?” the tech affectionately named I.T. asked. Everyone quieted down; you looked over at John biting your lip. He inclined his head a fraction in a silent ‘Do you trust them?’ looking at every member of your team you let your eyes flit back to him with and nodded. The silent conversation only lasted seconds but it spoke volumes. He reached down squeezing your hand, ‘I trust you,’

Taking a deep shuddering breath you turned your attention to your captive audience,

“It all started with a girl named Lucy…”

Tags:

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@writerdee1701

@dw-writes

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#doom 2005 #john grimm x reader #john grimm #reader insert #hailey the queen of typos #reaper x reader

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slashingdisneypasta · 4 years

Note

Hi, could you consider? Jason Voorhees x reader thing where the reader was Jasons friend before he died and now they visit the camp every year to pay their respects on the aniversity of his death and they sorta rekindle their friendship after a while?

I tried to go with big events or staples in Jason’s life ^^ But my knowledge of Friday the 13th movies is… a bit limited… my bad. I hope you like it anyway!! I hope its what you wanted ^^

1958 (Reader and Jason are like, 12 here):

When I… saw him, I was scared. At first. Not of him exactly, I don’t think at least, but of the entire situation. He was supposed to be dead, and things that are alive after that are never showed in a sweet light. Vampires, zombies, ghosts.

But then he held my hand like he always would and gently lead me to his old cabin, where apparently, he was still living. I felt happy, I gave him the picture I drew him, and he smiled at me. I thought he could come home with me now, and everything would be okay! But… something was different about it all. His hands were always cold, but now they felt freezing. He spoke even less then he used to, as well. And the cabin was dirty, and he couldn’t possibly live here comfortably.

And then, I asked him to come back with me and mum. “Its okay! Jason, now we can go back home, and you won’t have to live here! We can still be friends! I’ve missed you.”

He gives me a tiny smile back, but awkwardly pulls his icy hand away from me. Shaking his head, he steps back and sits on his mother old bed. Which is mouldy and where the sheets to be white, are brown now. So, I don’t sit with him. “I… can’t go… “

My heart sinks, because of something worse than disappointment. “But… you can’t live here!” There’s no food, or clean water, or proper shelter! And… no parents. The idea is insane!

I watch while his fingers clench into the mattress his mother used to sleep on, and feel a dull, slow realisation dawn on me. Like when you’re three days from having to go back to school after a wonderful holiday. “M-my… my mum… “ I look up him with wide, furrowed eyes while thinking about all his changes. He died, even though its hard to believe, looking at him. The cold isn’t bothering him, in some places moss from the water still clung to him in some places, he was comfortable in this place that I couldn’t ever stay in no matter how much someone paid me. He’s changed so much… to the point where, weirdly, he fits here. And I can’t think of a thing that I could say or do to change his mind.

For the first time in my life I feel completely, wholly helpless. There’s nothing I could ever do, to… save him. His eyes are duller than they were when… we were friends… and he’s not him anymore. Even though it look, and feels like him. My friend Jason is gone.

He’s gone somewhere I can’t follow him.

1983:

Awkwardly, I purse my lips, looking around at the forest while Jason carves into some wood, bored himself. I think that’s the piece of wood he was working on last year. “Okay… well, bye Jason.” I have been waiting for this all day! I want nothing but to leave Jason and get back to my family, the people I chose. It no longer feels like a choice to see Jason, even if it only once a year.

Its not like he makes me, its more that I force myself to come because I have my whole life since he died and if I couldn’t handle the guilt if I left him alone on his anniversary day one year. It used to be nice, when once a year my mum would drive me up and here and I would get to see my friend, even if it was different and weird. But soon enough, somewhere between high school and getting married, it became a burden. Because, really, what do we have in common?? Nothing. Why are we dragging this on, when all we have in common is history? History means very little when theirs no good memories to give it substance.

Oh… shit. Even thinking that sentence in my head felt bad. Of course, there were good memories… but its been so long since we’ve made a new one that I’ve forgotten what it felt like. What little I do remember, from when we little, feels made up. That’s how little it surfaces now.

As I pat his shoulder and get up from the porch where we were sitting for 4 hours -Four long, painful hours, - I accidentally wobble a bit and get a glimpse of the back of his head on accident. For a moment I keep going, getting to my feet and turning to walk off to my car, before I realise that what I just saw was not normal. People do not have dents like that in the back their head. Well, I mean, some people with the same condition Jason has sometimes do, but he was not born with this particular depression. I whip back around, surprising him and look shocked at him. “What the hell is that!?” He grunts, and shifts uncomfortably at that because he doesn’t talk anymore, and I soften my look a tiny bit in apology, knowing he doesn’t like swearing. “Right, sorry.” I roll my eyes. “But what is that crater in the back of your head Jason?!”

He sighs, deeply and shrugs.

“No, don’t you give me that. What is it? You bang your head on a branch or something??”

Not sure how a branch would make that kind of dent, but, it works to get the ball rolling. Maybe he’ll think the idea is so ridiculous that he communicates to me what it was just to set me straight. He does think I’m kind of ridiculous.

Yea, because he’s a hobo recluse who lives in the forest all alone, so he’s wiser apparently.

I watch him roll his eyes, before thumping on away from the cabin, leaving me alone abruptly, before coming back with an axe which is… not comforting. I glance from it to him and back again a few times, and he just rolls his eyes and shakes his head again.

Then he holds it up to thoroughly show me, causing me to notice the blood on it, then touches it to the dent. Finally, he grabs my hand -his is still cold as fuck, -, and holds it to his chest. Where there’s no heartbeat.

“What?” At first, I don’t get it at all, scrunching up nose in obvious confusion.

Then… slowly… it dawns on me. I gasp. “Who hit you in the head with an axe??!” He was already pretty dead, but this is new. Can’t say I feel surprised at all that he can live without a heartbeat, seeing as he survived drowning when he was 11, but this is new, at least.

Now he’s really gone somewhere I can’t follow. And can’t relate to.

2003:

I don’t know how long I’ve been out for, but it can’t be long when I open my eyes -the word a little blurred at first. The only things I can make out being a giant dark looking thing that could be a rock looking very still and another, brighter coloured one jumping on it.

Eventually those figures turn into Jason and that fucker that slashed me, - because they’re both still there near me. As far as I can see from the fight, as I get up from the earth and leaves and little twigs and dirt drop off my clothes and the wounds across my abdomen hurt like hell, is that Freddy’s doing most of the fighting, but Jason isn’t taking much damage. Good… okay… what can I do… I think, as I look around for a weapon.

Gadzooks! It’s my lucky day. Behind them, near me, I catch sight of Jason’s machete. He must have dropped it… Works for me.

On my way over to them, watching to see if either of them notice me back up on my feet, I pick up the weapon. Luckily, I’m pretty sure they both think I’m dead. So, it’s that much sweeter when I reach them and tighten my grip on the very long, sharp sword thing. Then I grit my teeth and ram the disagreeable thing into someone even more disagreeable.

Jason watches with a sense of surprise that I’m only just able to pick up on, because I know him so well, and a tiny flutter of a smile crosses my, probably terrible looking at the moment, face. “You couldn’t get rid of me when you died, and you certainly won’t just because I do.” I say, out of breath. These two may be immortal with the freaken stamina of 30-year old’s but I, am an old woman now. And kicking ass takes a bit out of me. Being too smart to drop the machete, instead roughly pulling it out of the sweater-wearers spine and walk with a slight limp, away from the scene. God, fucking… I really, almost died just then. And it feels like it. Where’s my phone? I need a goddamn ambulance.

Freddy, still alive I’m sure - a stab in the back is not going to keep him down, but I figure it’ll handicap him enough for Jason to take a good lead, - slips to his knees and I listen to the sweet melody of him groaning in pain as I hobble over to a considerably clearer area of earth, to sit down on and assess my injuries. “Bitch… “

Serves him right, the bastard. There are three deep scratches in my stomach, thoroughly ruining my one good white shirt, and making me a little woozy due to the blood loss. I look up from them to Jason, who’s staring at me in worry instead of finishing the fight. To reassure him, I flash a bigger smile and nod, gesturing for him to go on. “I’m fine, Jason. It’s okay. I’ll be waiting right here when you’re done.”

“Yeah- Hockey Puck -Fight hard for your girlfriend, heh heh,”

I look back down at my wounds and start thinking about what I need to do about them, ignoring the goblin completely. I hear a terrible, raspy gasp and then some screaming, and I know Jason’s thrown Freddy somewhere again.

An hour later, I’ve watched the teenagers leave, the group now cut cleanly in half and wait patiently, anxiously for Jason to come back too. The longer I wait, the worse I feel. dread fills up every part of my body that isn’t already full with pain from my wounds and a plain, dull, aching fear and I’m suddenly struck in the face with the thought that maybe Jason won’t come back. Maybe he’ll really lose this time.

He’s never fought someone like him before. This whole time I thought he was some invincible, super monster but, what if by monster standards he’s not??

I’ve never really felt the worry I’m feeling now. Not since he drowned, the first time. All these years after I’ve just coasted along with him, visiting once a year and forgetting about him the rest. It was like a chore, like something I had to do.

But now I’m afraid to death that he’s actually gone, and I’m stuck, stewing in the fact that I care about him. He’s an old friend, I love him. He can’t… he can’t die first. I’m the weak human!

I can’t believe I’m only realising this now. What an absolute idiot.

Just as I’m pushing myself up to my feet, to go searching in the direction he went in, I hear familiar, heavy footsteps and nearly damn well cry suddenly with immense relief. I sit back down, heavily and hide my face in my knees once I’ve seen him, trudging towards me. He looks so bad, but… animated. And that’s the main thing.

Ohhhh my god…

I feel the behemoth of a zombie, familiar to me in every sense of the word, like childhood, teenage, young adult, middle aged, and every other kind of memory put into one sit down on the grass with me. I peak up at him and can’t help the smile on my lips, tugging at the corners of my lips as the sun starts to come up over Camp Crystal Lake.

Sighing in relief, I explain my reaction to his return. “You’re okay?”

He nods, and raises 5 thick fingers to my stomach in question. I take his hand in mine, instead of leaving it to hang, and it feels good. “That’s fine. I’ll be okay. Thank you for asking, Jason.”

He curls his hand around mine in turn, as I lie down on the lush green grass, and try to rest. Finally, things feel alright again.

My eyes fall gently closed. Now I’ll go somewhere he can’t follow me. He’s never been good at death.

#Jason Voorhees x Reader #Jason Voorhees #Friday The 13th #Friday the 13th Part 2 #Freddy Vs Jason #Freddy Krueger #Oneshot

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arrthuur · 5 years

Text

A Long Awaited Return

Arthur Morgan x Reader

A/N: Just some good ol’ fashioned fluff to get you thru the day. (;

~~~~~~

Arthur had been gone for around for six days already, today would make it the seventh. When he left to go hunting with Hosea he’d warned everyone that they’d be gone for a few days, but those few days were quickly moulding into a week with still no sign of their return as of yet. The rest of the gang could see you worrying more and more each day, they were worried too but managed to keep brave faces for your sake.

As day rolled into night once again your anxiety had gotten the better of you, everything in your mind was screaming at you to head out and find him. You swore you’d search the whole of the damn country five times over if it meant you could find him safe and well. It took some encouraging words from Dutch to settle you down, but he ensured you that had anything happened to Arthur you’d have found out by now. He repeatedly reminded you of Arthur’s strength and Hosea’s wisdom, the two of them being practically unbeatable when they were working together. Dutch’s assurance calmed your anxiety only slightly, you no longer had the urge to go looking for Arthur but the worry hadn’t evaporated.

The night dragged on, with most of the gang members gathered around the tables playing Poker and the others feasting on Pearson’s bland stew. Food had been the last thing on your mind for the past day or two, the tension in your body making it almost impossible for you to stomach any type of food, especially Pearson’s stew. If it wasn’t for Abigail using Jack as a weapon to encourage you to eat, you’d have probably withered away into nothing as of now. As if on cue, Jack approached as you sat alone on the logs near the campfire, he was holding a bowl containing a slab of meat, his eyes bright and pleading. Charles had been specially preparing you the meat he’d collected on his hunt that day, giving you no excuse as to why you shouldn’t be eating. You thanked Jack and slowly picked at the food as he left you alone again.

“Need some company, compadre?” The next voice you heard was Javier’s. He took a seat next to you before even giving you the chance to reply, leaning forward to warm his hands by the fire.

“Guess I have no choice in the matter.”

Javier looked over his shoulder to meet your eyes for a second, a grin on both of your faces. He didn’t speak again until his eyes were firmly focussed on the fire. “You’re worried, I get it. Arthur will be fine. Trust me, amigo.”

“So everyone keeps sayin’.” Your voice reflected your hopelessness and Javier picked up on that. You threw the bowl of half eaten deer meat to one side, giving Javier your full attention as he moved to grab his guitar from the other side of the campfire, handing it to you as he sat down once again.

“Here. Let’s keep that mind of yours occupied. You remember what I taught you, yes?” He nodded down to the guitar now in your grasp. Javier had been teaching you how to play ever since the gang had first arrived at Horseshoe Overlook, you were decent enough but still had a long way to go until you were to reach his standard.

“I.. I think I remember some chords.” Recalling what Javier had taught, your hands started to perform the chords to a riff you remembered best. You managed to make it a quarter way into the tune before your fingers were no longer obeying you, they started to drift off as if they had a mind of their own. Your eyes lifted to meet Javier’s, his gaze reflecting some sort of shock causing you to snort in response. “Okay, maybe I don’t remember it all too well…” You went to hand the guitar back to him but he refused, pushing it back into your hold.

“Giving up already? That ain’t like you, compadre, where’s your passion? We’re missing that determination in your eyes.”

"Maybe I just ain't in the mood."

"Nonsense, sister. Sit up, relax your muscles and let your fingers do the talking. Play me that again, from the start."

A deep breath had you tasting the ashes of the fire and the smoke in air, a taste you were very much used to. With one last reassuring nod from Javier, you began the tune again, this time making it to the end with only some minor mistakes. When you finished, a chorus of applause filled your ears unexpectedly. It wasn't until you looked up that you realised Charles and Lenny had joined you at the fire.

Javier was beaming with pride, "Well done, amigo. I knew you could do it."

"Great work, Y/N, I've missed watching you play. You're a natural when you put your mind to it." Charles praised you too, the attention causing heat to rush to your cheeks.

"Well, y'know, behind every good student is a great teacher. Still a trek to go before I meet your standards, Javi."

"Oh, I'm not sure about that, sister. You got a talent, girl. Now c'mon, we ain't stopping.. Play us another."

As you racked your brain in attempt to remember a different tune that Javier had taught you, your thoughts were interrupted by Bill's shouts from within the trees. He was standing guard so his shouting attracted the attention of most of the camp members. You froze, stuck to your spot for a good few seconds as the sound of horse hooves got louder and closer.

And all of a sudden, your world made sense again and you released a breath you hadn't even realised you were holding. It was Arthur and Hosea making their return. They both looked like they'd seen better days but they definitely had enough game attached to their saddles to explain their long absence. Your heart fluttered gratefully as Arthur climbed down from his horse, taking a second to greet those who had gathered close to them before you noticed his eyes scanning the entirety of the camp, his facial expression only softening when he found you amongst the crowd. He broke the eye contact for second, saying something to John that you couldn't quite make out before he began to make his way over to you.

Javier was quick to take the guitar from your grasp as you stood up and held your arms open for Arthur to walk straight into your embrace. He let out a long, content sigh as he buried his face in your neck and wrapped his arms almost too tightly around your waist. A grin that made your cheeks sting was plastered on your face as Arthur planted a kiss on your neck, his grip moving to your thighs as he lifted you up and encouraged you to wrap your legs around his hips.

No words came out of his mouth, but the look that he gave you as he moved his head back said everything for him. In that moment you wanted nothing more than to lose yourself in him but you knew you'd have to wait until you had more privacy, the feeling of everyone's eyes on you both all too noticeable.

Arthur shifted your weight to his hip as he held you to him with one arm, the other reaching out to shake Javier, Charles and Lenny's hands.

Charles was the only one who spoke, the other two too busy sitting there with smirks on their faces. "We missed you, Arthur. Things ain't the same without you and Hosea around."

"Yeah, well, I missed y'all too. Now if you'll excuse me a minute fellers.."

The three of them chuckled as Arthur began to carry you in the direction of your shared tent, his breath fanning across your neck as he did so. As you passed Dutch's tent, the man himself let out a laugh at the sight of you both, his hand coming to pat Arthur's back.

"Good to know you're safe, son. Had us worryin' slightly."

"I'm always safe, Dutch." Arthur dismissed him slightly, his mind focussed on getting you somewhere he could have you to himself.

From the second the opening to your tent concealed the two of you, Arthur's lips were on yours, a desperate and frantic exchange but one that was radiating love at the same time. You tried to wiggle out of his arms but his grip on you was too strong, he clearly wanted you to be as close as possible to him and you had no intentions of fighting him off.

You let Arthur take full control of the kiss, feeling his tongue trying to push through your lips. An involuntary giggle from you gave him the access he required, a muffled moan escaping you as his tongue circled the roof of your mouth in a way he knew you liked. His grip on you began to weaken the more he succumbed to the kiss so before long he was moving toward the cot and sitting down on the edge with you in his lap, your legs still wrapped tightly around his waist. Arthur's hands immediately started to rub up and down your back whilst yours raked through his soft hair.

A minute later you were forced to brake the kiss, desperate for breath. Arthur chuckled as he watched you catch your breath, his lips beginning to draw a path down to your collar bone. "You have no idea how much I missed you." His voice was low and raspy, sending a shiver down your spine.

"I think I got some idea." You tugged on his hair slightly, encouraging him to look at you. It wasn't until now that you noticed a cut on his face, just under this eye. You frowned at it, making a mental note to ask him how he'd got it later.

Arthur's forehead rested against yours, he repeatedly stole soft and quick pecks as you sat silently enjoying each other's presence. "I'm sorry I took so long to come back." He whispered, his head then leaning back slightly so he could look into your eyes, the intense stare sending you slightly insane.

"You're here now, you're safe.. that's all that matters."

“I guess so. How you been, sweetheart? You feel thin.. too thin." He raised an eyebrow at you knowingly.

"Well after day three passed without your return, it's safe to say that food was the last thing on my mind."

Arthur sighed heavily, "You gotta look after yourself, darlin', not just for your sake.. for mine and the rest of us too. We need you strong. Ain't no need to worry 'bout me."

You cradled his face with your hands, your thumbs moving softly against his cheekbones. "That's easier said than done, Arthur." He didn’t reply but smiled softly as you hugged yourself tighter to him.

The sincere moment was swiftly cut short by the sound of John's voice coming from outside your tent. "Knock, knock!"

Arthur rolled his eyes to the heavens, causing you to laugh loudly. "What is it, Marston?” He shouted back, his tone gruff.

"You two gon' come out here n' join us for a drink or what?"

Arthur waited till he had your agreement before he promised John that you'd be out in a second. He huffed moodily as you untangled yourself from his lap. "Can't even get a minutes peace with my girl around here."

"Let's just go out n' have a good time with everyone. There's a lot of people out there who thought you weren't never comin' back. Plenty of time for just the two of us later on.." You laced your fingers with his and went to pull him out of the tent but he held you back slightly, causing you to look at him in the eye.

"You promise?"

"Of course, Arthur." You smirked as you stood on your tip toes and kissed the corner of his mouth before encouraging him to follow you out back to the campfire.

~~~~~~

As the night played out, Arthur eventually began to loosen up and enjoy himself. He had a few beers but refused to drink enough to get himself drunk, he wanted to keep a sober head and begged you to do the same. He'd hardly let you out of his sight all night, if his hand wasn't in yours it was either placed on your shoulders or at your waist as he held you in his lap every time he sat down. Arthur was rarely a clingy person so when he wanted to be, you let him without question. Although you'd never admit it, you couldn't help but love him more when he was like this. For the majority of the night he was leaving you having to fight with yourself not to pounce on him in-front of everyone at the campfire, your only release from the temptation being the distracting conversations with your fellow gang members.

At one point in the night, Javier had you playing the guitar - this time for everyone to listen. He and Arthur beamed with pride as they watched. It was a skill Arthur had always encouraged you to learn so seeing you excel at it made him all that bit happier.

Night quickly turned to the early hours of the morning and as the crowd around the fire began to dwindle down, Arthur decided it was time for you both to head to bed too. He stood up and stretched in-front of you, his actions seemingly innocent until he bent down to pick you up, hauling you over his shoulder before you even had the chance to fight him off. Your shocked reaction made those who were still sat around laugh loudly, a slight blush rushing to your cheeks in response. You bid them goodnight as best you could, trying to retain some of your dignity as you lay flopped over Arthur’s shoulder.

Once you reached your tent he lay you down on the cot as gently as he could manage, a smug grin on his face.

“Do that again, Arthur Morgan, and there will be consequences.”

“Whatever you say, Princess. I look forward to those consequences. Now wait there, I got somethin’ for you on my travels.. left it in my saddlebag.” He retreated from the tent and returned moments later with one hand behind his back. You watched him tentatively as he moved to sit next to you. “Close yer eyes.” He almost demanded.

“Arthur, I…”

“Just do it. Please. And hold out yer hand.” You did as he said, a few seconds passing by until you felt him place something in your palm. “Alright, you can open ‘em now.”

Resting in your hand was a beautifully decorated ring box. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of it, your eyes whipping to Arthur’s in shock. Marriage? He noticed your reaction, then looked to the box before throwing his head back and laughing loudly. “Don’t worry, it ain’t that type of ring. Not yet anyway…” You punched his arm, frowning at him sternly. Arthur held his hands up innocently. “I probably shoulda clarified that first… Trust me, when it comes to that we definitely ain’t gonna be sitting in a dingy tent surrounded by a bunch of drunk fools, of that I can assure you.”

“Jesus, Arthur. You had me goin’ for a second there!” You allowed yourself to laugh at the situation. “Alright, so if you ain’t askin’ for my hand in marriage, what is this?”

“Open it!” He encouraged, his excitement palpable.

You opened the box with a shaky hand. Inside was a silver ring adorned with what you presumed to be some sort of diamond that glistened when the light from the lantern hit it. Your jaw dropped as you stared at the ring, your eyes moving to Arthur’s once you’d looked at it for long enough.

“Um, the feller at the store.. He told me it was a promise ring. Said if I give it to someone special it lets them know we’re in it for the long run…” Arthur was trying to decipher your reaction.

“I.. you really shouldn’t have, Arthur. How did you even afford somethin’ like this?”

“I know a feller, pulled a few strings with him. All innocent dealin’s I swear.” He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “So, d’ya like it?”

“Like it? I love it. It’s so beautiful. Ain’t nobody done anythin’ like this for me before.” You took the ring from the box and slipped it onto your finger, moving it around slightly to allow the light to bounce off it. “Fits perfectly too.”

The smile on Arthur’s face reflected his relief and it was all you could to reach forward for his shirt collar and fall back against the pillow, dragging him down on top of you and kissing him soundly. “Thank you, I love you.” You whispered against his lips, feeling him grin widely.

Arthur moved back slightly, one hand on your cheek as the other held his weight off you. “Yer more than welcome, darlin’. I love you too, so damn much.”

“Y’know.. every time you leave me from now on I’ll be expectin’ you to better this gift each time…” You smirked jokingly.

“Well, I guess that means yer gonna be seein’ a helluva lot more of me now that you got expensive tastes.”

“I can live with that. In fact, I might even insist upon it. But for now, we got a weeks worth of loneliness to catch up on and I’ll be honest, I wanna take some time to forget everythin’ that’s goin’ on around us and just lose myself in you, Arthur Morgan.”

“Think you’ll find I was thinkin’ the exact same thing.”

And for the rest of the night, that’s exactly what you did. The two of you forgetting the weight of the world that sat on your shoulders and instead just simply taking the opportunity to enjoy each other’s company, a much needed reminder of how much you really meant to one another.

~~~~~~

#arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 #arthur morgan fic #javier escuella #dutch van der linde #lenny summers #hosea matthews #charles smith

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faintblueivy · 5 years

Text

Is She Beautiful? - Chapter 8 - Borusara Fanfiction

This might be the quickest update of a story from me ever! Pfffffttt 😂! Though I'm glad that it didn't took me...like...months to write it! Phew! It's the second last chapter of this Multichapter series! I'm excited to see your thoughts on this chapter! Haha! Enjoy!

and obviously thanks to @roopshasil for beta-reading!

Chapter 8

Things we fight For

“Leave him alone.”

Boruto felt his breath freeze at the ferocity in her voice. He gulped when she jumped down the building and landed straight in front of them with lethal grace and poise.

The boys surrounding him stumbled back in shock. Of course, the sight of mighty sharingan blazing blood red into the night was not any ordinary occurrence. And had Boruto wouldn't have been struck in this predicament, he would have been amused at their fear. Some of their frantic whispers did reach his ears though.

“W-who the h-hell is she?!”

“I don't know! I don't!!!”

“Ask her to s-stop!”

One of them screamed when Sarada took a few steps forward. Seeing how useless his body was at the moment, Boruto observed her carefully. An odd sensation clawed on his chest at the stoned look on her face. The normally vibrant sharingan look weirdly dull. As if she was locking in a rush of heavy feelings behind it.

“Sara-” His voice cracked.

“Wait. I think I've seen her somewhere! Isn't she the Uchiha?”

“Uchiha? Uchiha Sarada? His teammate?”

Boruto immediately felt a chill run down his spine. Damn, what else was he expecting? They were going to recognise her sooner or later. She had reached the finals after all.

“Oh yeah! That's why I thought she looked familiar.”

“Just a brat like him, huh?”

He felt irked at the guy's words and that feeling increased tenfold when he sauntered over to her and leaned down with a dirty smirk on his face.

“You know, I've always wondered about it. He cheated, didn't he? But what about you?”

He wriggled his eyebrows.

“Did you know what he was upto? Or...were you the one who asked him to?”

Those preposterous accusations made Boruto snap.

“Hey! She had got nothing to do with all that! She didn't even know! Leave her out of this-”

He was unable to complete the sentence because of a foot that was jammed on his chest making him throw out his spit and choke.

“Boy, I didn't ask you to talk-”

There was a loud noise Boruto found himself gaping in fear and awe when the guy was flung across the alleyway, landing straight into the community dustbin with a resonating thud.

“And I didn't ask you to touch him.”

Her voice held a cutting edge that made the others recoil and of course, the scene of a young girl punching the living daylights out of their supposed leader must have definitely scared them. Boruto felt a bead of sweat trickle down his neck. His body still was not cooperating and these almost adults were criminals. It was not that he was underestimating Sarada in any way, it was just his own freaking uselessness that was suffocating him. He wouldn't have cared this much if it only would have been him but now he didn't even have a slightest idea of how this scenario was going to turn out and yes, that child was still there to be taken care of.

“Sarada listen-”

He spoke out but shut up when she swirled her head around fast and glared at him with anger shining in her eyes. And he instantly knew he was in deep trouble. And something else was there as well. Hurt? Pain? She didn't give him enough time to ponder as she turned her back at him and Boruto felt a foul taste building up in his mouth at her treatment.

…

“Naruto's not going home again?”

Sakura questioned, her lips set into a thin line. She stood a few blocks away from the Hokage Tower, watching her husband close on her. Her shift in the hospital had just ended and she was on her way to home when she had seen her husband across the street.

“Not yet. It's still early for him to leave.” He supplied, coming to stand up beside her. Her hand raised as she rubbed her forehead agitatingly, the cool of her bangle seeping through the skin.

“He should pay a little more attention to his family, you know? Back then…”

She bit her lip as the vivid memories of that unfortunate day flashed in her mind. She couldn't forget that one little girl by her side clutching her hand tightly as they watched her mother race back to the crumbling stadium to protect her son and make a futile attempt to save her husband. He could still hear Himawari sobbing on her side when an unconscious and heavily injured Hinata was brought to her.

“Don't worry. He'll go home tonight.”

Sasuke's voice halted her thoughts as his fingers lightly grazed her on the arm, just above the elbow.

“Yeah. He better. Or I'll visit him myself and knock a little sense into his brain.”

Sasuke shuddered involuntarily when his wife cracked her knuckles menacingly.

“How long are you planning on staying?” Her voice was oh so nonchalant but Sasuke could still detect a slight tremor is her words.

“For a week more.”

He answered honestly and felt his heart swelling when the vibrant green of her eyes shined brightly.

His lips upturned softly into a smile as they walked side by side. Close enough to feel each other's warmth and still far enough for it to be even more tempting.

“He's worried about Boruto, isn't he?” Sakura's words drifted to him. At his inquisitive look, she laughed.

“I can see it in his eyes, you know?”

And Sasuke felt a weird sensation in the pit of his stomach. He had seen the bond of closeness that Sakura and Naruto shared. They could read each other's eyes, feel their anxiety and reassure each other. Somewhere along the way they bonded over their mutual goal to bring him back. The goal that had 'saving the world’ in the between. Naruto had always been there for her. Just like he had been for him. This was team 7. Their team 7.

“To be honest, I'm a little worried as well.”

“About Boruto?”

“Uhm-hum. A tiny bit. Actually, the burn on his hand is not healing very efficiently.”

“What do you mean?”

“Uzumakis...have a faster healing rate than others. But Boruto's not healing the way Naruto’s wounds do. In fact, not even like his own normally does. Especially his hand.”

This particular statement piqued Sasuke's interest as he brain contemplated the meaning behind the vision that had been captured by his Rinnegan.

Something was not adding up. Was that just a fabricated illusion or Boruto had actually met Momoshiki face to face?

I'll have to ask the boy myself.

“I'm worried about Sarada though, a lot.”

Hearing his daughter's name in the same sentence as 'worry’ made his ears stand up in attention.

“Sarada? What? Why? Is she ok?”

“Sasuke-kun stop!” Sakura wheezed out in between her giggles. “Your daughter is completely fine, you worry wart!”

When Sasuke made a sour face, Sakura's eyes softened. She looked ahead when she said, “I'm worried about Sarada because... she's too emotionally involved with Boruto. I mean, she worries about him, more than we can imagine. It's funny how she complains about him all the time and yet would be the first one to sweep in and defend him if needed. In fact I was surprised that you had convinced her stay here when Boruto left with you all for the other dimension.”

“What are you trying to imply at? Sakura?”

At his intense look, she shrugged her shoulders lightly.

“I don't know. But well, what can I say? Getting into troubles together is what friendship is all about. Nobody knows that better than me!”

A chuckle escaped her lips which slowly melted into a smile.

“All I want is for them to remain safe and happy, shannaro!”

…

The boys after having recovered from the initial shock gave out a battle cry and launched themselves at Sarada in order to avenge their leader. They had kunais and shurikens with and one even carried a wakizashi with him. Boruto stood up frantically even when his limbs heavily protested against it but one step was enough to make him faceplant back onto the floor. He felt a desperation rise up inside his head. Something similar to what he had felt when he had seen his father being taken away. Yes, back then, he understood that there were adults to take the matters in their hands but at the moment it is just him and Sarada and a tiny civilian child. He could also see that their opponents were not heavenly monsters with unimaginable powers, far from it actually, but still the panic he was stifling with, wasn't making anything easier.

He watched as they hurled their shurikens at her and she dodged and blocked them efficiently. And then she ran towards them using her kunai to deflect their attacks, jumped using the support of the wall and launched her own attack against them. And the shock on their faces and the painful yelps they let out indicated that her aim had hit the target. Obviously they had not expected her to be so good in shurikenjutsu.

Boruto was aware of Sarada's fighting limitations here. Her elemental chakras were fire and lightning. And both of them were too dangerous to be used in a narrow alleyway with risking too much damage to life and property. So all she had left was her weapon mastery and insane strength to beat these guys and keep that kid safe from the crossfire.

“Sarada! Watch out!”

He found himself screaming when he saw one of the guy's using a water whip on her. She immediately did a graceful flip and dodged it. Grabbed one end of it and channeled an electric beam through, shocking the boy enough to fall on his knees. She immediately pulled out a kunai and slashed at him only to be blocked by the one holding that wakizashi.

Oh, they knew teamwork, huh? That was very troublesome. Boruto knew that they needed help fast.

The boy slashed at Sarada and she gracefully did a few flips back to maintain distance. Her sharingan scanned the area for any sort of opening before the guy screamed bloody murder and launched herself at her. He swung the blade too wide though.

Boruto smirked.

This was the chance.

“Shannaro!”

And Sarada saw it as well. She pulled back a punch and rammed it straight into his chest, throwing him across the wall. There was a loud crash, a groan and the boy could not stand up again.

One down.

The other two looked on, horrified before attacking Sarada simultaneously with synchronised water whips. Sarada dodged all of them, sometimes they would be too close for comfort and Boruto would stop breathing. Suddenly one of them got her on her arm and a bruise bloomed on her white skin. Boruto felt rage well up inside him when he grabbed the nearest thing available to him - a soda can - and hurled it straight at the guy. His aim missed and he realised that his motor skills haven't restored to its full potential yet.

But fortunately it provided enough distraction to Sarada to knock him out with an uppercut. She pivoted around to knee the other one in the stomach but he was already sly enough to use the opportunity to bind her using the water whip. As Sarada struggled against the restrictive binding jutsu, he struggled against his own limbs, grabbing on the wall behind him to support his weight.

That's when he registered a movement from the corner of his eyes. His breath hitched in his throat when he realised it was the leader of the pack. A chill ran down his spine when he pulled out a Katana that he had not noticed earlier. He blended in the shadows so well and moved so fast that Boruto's already damaged senses were sent into a tizzy. But his brain still understood.

Sarada was the target.

He could see nothing else. He could hear nothing else. Only the gleaming arc of the reflected light and the whizzing sound of the air being slashed by the sword and their approaching proximity to Sarada was all his senses registered.

His hand outstretched in a desperate attempt to save her. A broken scream ripped out of his throat, the air carrying it too slowly to reach her on time.

“SARADA!!!”

And blood splattered.

Red.

All red.

…So? You hate me? Or not?

*Laughs evilly*

I have a serious love-hate relationship with cliffhangers. I love them when I write them and hate them when somebody else does! 😂😂

This was an action packed chapter and well, wayyyyyyy out of my comfort zone in writing so yeah, I'd love to see what you think of it!

Thank you for all your love!

See you again!

#borusara #borusarafics #boruto x sarada #boruto and sarada #boruto #sarada #boruto uzumaki #sarada uchiha #boruto naruto next generation #borusara fanfiction #is she beautiful #adi writes

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mintchocolateleaves · 5 years

Text

A/N: Am I coming back as meme trash with some crack based on this video? Yes. But I’m not alone! @detectivegeekshin created art for this too, so it’s alright! Does this mean we’re now the memers of this fandom?

It’s a zombie AU. Please enjoy it. xD

The streetlight is flickering.

Perhaps not the worst thing about this night, since they’ve already been chased halfway across Ekoda by half-alive humans. Shinichi hates the idea of calling them zombies, it seems too cliché. Why would he believe that the zombie apocalypse has finally occurred–

It’s probably best not to think about it. Shinichi just needs to keep moving, head towards the checkpoint that had been mentioned in the emergency broadcasts around the district.

“We’re almost there,” he says, finally, glancing between the three who’re part of their group. Hattori, having fought ‘zombies’ before when they’d been on a case together, seems slightly terrified, as if remembering how he’d ‘chopped’ someone’s head off.

Kuroba had started off worried, but somehow, along their travels towards the checkpoints, he’d gone from worried to exasperated. Then, to amused. Humour has started to tinge his eyes, almost as if he’s finding the entire thing amusing. On the other side of Shinichi, Hakuba looks like he’s one second away from a mental breakdown.

Shinichi lets out a small sigh as they turn to look at him. “We’re almost at that military checkpoint. Just a few more miles, a little further.”

The boys nod.

“Maybe we could hotwire a car or something,” Kuroba suggests, pointing towards one of the cars at the end of the street. The door has been left open, and so it doesn’t seem like getting nearer will set off any alarms. “You can drive, can’t you Kudo?”

Shinichi hums, acknowledging. He says, “I don’t have a license, but I know how.”

Hakuba flashes him a look that says this is outrageous. He must remember the fact that a withering, old age pensioner has recently tried to take a bite out of his arm though, since the look slowly fizzles away and is replaced with horror.

“We could perhaps overlook the lack of a license.” The blonde mutters, concluding that they have more important details to look into.

“Carjacking with a bunch of detectives during the apocalypse,” Kuroba mutters, shaking his head. “What kind of hell is this?”

Shinichi decides not to answer. Instead, he throws himself into a slow jog, making their way towards the car.

The… zombie… pulls itself up from the car bonnet when they’re a few yards away. Long, slick hair frames a face without any expression. The strands are silver, and Shinichi feels a bristle of terror run down his spine as he realises that the man is all too familiar.

“Not this fucking guy again,” Hattori growls, as they come to a stop. They’re a few feet away, and Shinichi takes the time to look at the man who ruined his life years before. He’d poisoned him once, and if Kuroba is right about the whole zombies thing, then the man can easily poison him again.

“We should kill it,” Kuroba suggests, shrugging his shoulders. “Do either of you guys have a weapon or something?”

“We can’t go round killing people Kuroba,” Shinichi protests, “that makes us no better than him.”

“I’m sorry,” the magician snarls, “but it’s a fucking zombie. Can’t we just stab him a little, so he’s doesn’t go around eating our eyeballs like it’s fucking takoyaki?”

“Shut up,” Hakuba hisses, “you’re not helping.”

The zombie lets out a snarl. Animalistic and feral, it makes each of them jump. Hattori squints, takes a second to break from the group, stepping towards the zombie.

Now that Shinichi looks closer, he can see that flakes of blood have dried beneath the zombie’s fingernails. The trench coat and the shirt the zombie wears beneath him is stained red. It’s all together, a chilling experience.

Hattori seems to ignore the fact that this is chilling, because he raises his arms up, and makes a noise that sounds like a mix between a strangled cat, and a lion’s roar.

At the confused squeak Hakuba makes, the Osakan turns back. He raises his shoulders into a shrug and turns back to the zombie. Then, he says, “Listen. It seems pretty animal like, ya know? So, how do ya deal with animals, ya prove to them you’re a bigger threat, right?”

“Hattori,” Hakuba breathes, and Shinichi turns just in time to watch his composure crack. Gone is the detective Shinichi met at a gathering on a private island, now, he’s face to face with the teenager Hakuba really is. “That’s what you do with things like bears. This is a fucking zombie, you imbecile.”

Hattori shrugs. Repeats what is meant to be a roar as he tries to intimidate the zombie. The zombie repeats the roar, tries to be act equally as intimidating.

Shinichi’s not going to lie, he’s quite intimidated.

“Hey,” Hattori turns back again, takes a step back almost intuitively as the zombie shuffles closer. “I think it’s mimicking me.”

“Hattori, quit messing around.”

The Osakan does not in fact, stop messing around. For a moment, he stills. Then – he starts to perk up as he glances at the shirt that is beneath the zombie’s trench coat.

Shinichi isn’t sure whether it is hysteria or disgust that rises up his throat. Either way, he is looking at an old t-shirt, frayed and covered in blood, with the face of Britney Spears on it.

“I have an idea,” Hattori says, and before Shinichi can ask what it is, he begins to croon Britney Spears, singing along to the tempo.

‘Oh baby, baby – how was I supposed to know?’

Hakuba’s lips purse. Kuroba squints, shaking his head as he looks at the scene. For a moment, there is no possible thought that Shinichi could think that would make sense of this.

‘That something wasn’t right here–’

“Hattori,” Shinichi breathes, “what are you doing?”

Beside him, Hakuba mumbles a quiet, ‘what?’ His eyebrows raised as he tries to fully understand what’s going on.

‘Oh baby, baby – I shouldn’t have let you go..’

Hattori lifts his hand up, as if to reassure them that everything is totally fine, and that he’s in control of the entire situation. Despite this, Shinichi doesn’t feel very reassured. The zombie, at least, hasn’t ripped them to pieces yet.

‘And now you’re out of sight, yeah.’

For a moment, it’s just Hattori singing. Then, the zombie starts to bounce its head, echoing the lyrics back in a croaky, almost demon-like voice. Perhaps the discovery of knowing that zombies can sing should have gone unknown. Shinichi doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to properly process the knowledge.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Kuroba shrug his shoulders, mutter ‘fuck it’ and take a step forward.

‘Show me,’ a chorus of two humans and a zombie echoes in the empty street, a croon of Britney Spears, ‘how you want it to be–’

Everyone has clearly gone insane. The apocalypse is here, and everyone is losing their mind, obviously. Because there’s no way that…

“What are you doing?” Shinichi hisses, only to receive a listless shrug from Kuroba. The thief even seems to be bouncing on his toes a bit, small dance moves as they continue to sing.

It’s completely outrageous.

‘Tell me baby, cause I need to know right now, because–’

The three seem to be so involved in the song that they don’t notice Shinichi as he turns to Hakuba, raising a hand and throwing it up, a silent question. Hakuba responds with a frown that seems to say that he doesn’t have a clue either.

‘My loneliness, is killing me.’

Kuroba breaks off, quite invested in the song and adds, “and I–”

‘I must confess, I still believe–”

“Okay,” Hakuba says, raising a hand up, as if trying to force the words out. He turns to Shinichi, makes eye contact for a few seconds before turning back to the two men and the zombie. “Did Kuroba drug my water again, or are they really singing Britney Spears with a zombie?”

Shinichi has no words. He simply shrugs his shoulders and tries to process what’s going on. He’s pretty sure, that he’s gaping – especially since both Hattori and Kuroba seem so intensely into their song, their arms jerking in some resemblance of a dance.

‘When I’m not with you, I lose my mind. Give me a sign–”

Hattori claps his hands along to the rhythm, tapping his foot. Since the zombie seems invested enough to sing the song, it almost seems like it would be unwise to interrupt.

So, Shinichi stays quiet.

‘Hit me–’

Even if his friends are fucking idiots.

‘Baby one more–’

The zombie crumples to the floor before they can finish the song. The air cracks with the loud burst of gunfire, a bullet penetrating through the skull. Blood does not spurt out, simply dribbles.

Not that they should have been expecting something different. It seems that the zombie doesn’t have a heartbeat, making bleeding unlikely. As long as it doesn’t fall face first, the blood will remain inside the body, keeping the virus contained.

Hattori and Kuroba both let out something not unlike screams. It catches in their throat, and maybe later, when they are telling the story to their respected girlfriends, they will leave this part out, but for now, the sound that emits from their mouths is nothing short of shrill.

Shinichi lets out a small sound too, an exhale of air that is mostly from adrenaline but also from shock. He zips around, just in time to hear Hakuba swear under his breath, staring across to where the sound has come from.

Sat on a motorbike, with a gun raised, a boy watches the four of them. He lowers the gun, clicks on the safety and then, very slowly, lifts up his visor.

Shinichi lets out a small breath. He knows those eyes, that androgynous figure. Not a boy then, but rather, a girl.

Masumi Sera.

#Ahahahaha you think Det. and I always talk about serious stuff? Nope. Sometimes it crack like this #DCMK #Kudo Shinichi #Hattori Heiji #Kuroba Kaito #Hakuba Saguru #Masumi Sera #Detective Conan #we like to think we're funny ahaha #mywriting

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strangershield · 6 years

Text

The Mind Reader

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Read Part Two Here , Part Three , Part Four

Warnings: very mild language

A/N: I’m very proud of this one so I hope you enjoy. I might do a part two if you guys like it and I get enough feedback? Saying that, it is over 5k words so I apologise. I’m back working on requests now x

‘Dammit I have a Spanish test’

‘Her skirt is really cute’

‘Lunch better be good today’

The thoughts float around in your head in an organized chaos. Each thought is fleeting and almost disappears as soon as it comes. It’s always like this in crowded areas. Take the school hallway for example. You lose count of how many people you pass, and how many thoughts cross your mind. Mind reading is an ability you only acquired a few weeks ago but you think you could control it now, to a certain extent. You no longer thought you were going crazy, or wanted to rip your brain out of your head. It was hectic, yes, but it was almost calming. The thoughts could mute out your own, if you wanted, or add humour to your day. Seriously, teenagers think of the weirdest things. Adjusting the grip on your backpack you made your way to first period: chemistry. You passed Flash on the way and almost lost it when he started thinking about whether he should be a full time DJ.

‘I’ve done two parties now and people love it. People love me. Hell yeah I could be a DJ.’

When you entered the classroom you made your way to the back row. It was easier to concentrate back here as people weren’t surrounding you. You could also discretely put a headphone in. Music helped drown out the thoughts because unfortunately you didn’t need to know everything 24/7. It got exhausting and unnerving. Besides, you almost failed the last chemistry test so you needed to concentrate. You were thankful that you didn’t have this class with MJ. You loved her but she thought of the weirdest and funniest crap. Mind reading was a weird ability to have. It was more annoying than helpful, and so far you couldn’t figure out how to turn it ‘off’. Yes it was harmless, but reading thoughts seemed like an invasion of privacy, especially around your friends. You always tried to not pay attention to their thoughts or drown them out, but it didn’t always work. Luckily you hadn’t heard anything you shouldn’t have yet. Well, technically everything is something you shouldn’t have heard, but nothing catastrophic anyway. The bell sounded just as the teacher entered. Immediately his thoughts entered yours and you were bombarded with his feelings about his most recent fight with his boyfriend. Well this should be an interesting class.

By the time lunch arrives you are drained. Today seemed to be extra difficult as every thought was heavy with emotion. Usually it wasn’t this bad, but it got worse when you were tired or stressed. You couldn’t block thoughts as easily so every little idea crossed your own mind. If someone else complained about homework you might go insane. MJ was already at your table when you arrived and collapsed next to her, bringing your face to your hands. Yep, today you were going insane. Her thoughts began to leak to you like an oil spill, and there was nothing you could do but sit and listen to them. Thankfully she was tired today too and wasn’t thinking about much. Ned and Peter soon joined you. You greeted them without lifting your head, the weight of everyone’s thoughts too much.

“You okay?” Ned asked, sitting opposite you.

You nodded and almost laughed when he thought, ‘she doesn’t look okay but I’m hungry.’

With a sigh you sat up straight and started eating. Your mood slowly improved as conversation flowed. MJ was preoccupied with a book but you were happy to go along with Peter and Ned’s conversation. Mind reading made these interactions more fun as you knew exactly what the other person was thinking. It’s funny how often people lie to please their friends.

“So what are you doing tonight?” Peter asked you.

Shrugging, you replied, “homework I think. You?”

“Stark internship.” He replied quickly.

Oh yes. The holy Stark internship. Half the time you wondered what he actually did there. You imagined him running around getting Starbucks for the Avengers and cleaning their weapons. It was unrealistic but humorous. You nodded and grabbed your water. When you took a sip Peter’s thoughts entered your mind.

‘I really need to fix the web design. I can’t be Spiderman with no webs.’

You choked on the water and proceeded to have a coughing fit. Peter and Ned looked at you immediately and thoughts of concern entered your head. MJ simply glanced up then continued reading. You assured them that you were fine and recovered partly. Peter was Spiderman. Peter Parker. Shit. You knew you weren’t supposed to know that, and it only made you angry. Stupid powers. They kept talking but you were no longer focusing. You were friends with Spiderman, and your friend was Spiderman. Your food was forgotten about as you tried to process this new information. Did Ned know? Obviously he did. Peter isn’t that great at keeping secrets. You doubted that MJ knew since she hardly took an interest in your lives in general. A part of you was disappointed that Peter hadn’t told you, but you quickly pushed the feeling away. It’s not like he knew about your powers. Then again, you weren’t an Avenger or a superhero who risked their life daily. More and more thoughts crossed your brain, causing you to physically wince. With your own thoughts it was getting too much.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You look pale.” Ned said as he took another bite of his sandwich.

“You stopped eating, do you feel sick?” Peter asked, sincerely worried. You wanted to smile and reassure them that you were fine but your brain was on fire. It was a migraine times twenty. You could hardly speak as you abruptly stood up and staggered out of the cafeteria. You think you mentioned the bathroom but everything felt like a trance. After wandering aimlessly you stumbled into an empty hallway. You collapsed onto the nearest wall and slide down it until you were sitting on the floor, knees bent. Immediately the pressure was released in your brain as you were alone, the pain now similar to a normal migraine. No one was nearby so no thoughts could bother you. After a few deep breaths you managed to reduce the throbbing to a dull headache. Sitting alone in the cold hallway, you finally allowed yourself to think. So Peter was a superhero, which was unexpected but not surprising. After all, he was the bravest and smartest kid you knew. But a superhero? He had powers too. That part made you excited and you thought of all of the possible conversations you two could have. He might understand your pain and struggles. You could bond over that. But you couldn’t tell him your power. Well, you should since you knew about his secret, but you couldn’t. No one could know. You didn’t want or need to be a hero. You wanted to be an average teenage girl (who could read minds). He needed to know that you knew at least. But how? You groaned and put your head on your knees and hugged your legs to your chest. Life seemed impossible at various moments, and today was no exception.

“(Y/N)!”

You stopped and turned in the direction of the voice. Amidst the now crowded hallway you spotted one Peter Parker rushing towards you as fast as he could in the sea of bodies. You stayed next to the classroom door until he finally made it to you.

‘That would’ve been a lot faster if I used my powers.’

His thought sent a joint through your spine, another reminder that he was Spiderman. The two of you joined the crowd as you walked to your locker. It was the end of the day and you couldn’t wait to get home and be alone. Your brain needed a rest.

“How are you? And don’t say okay.” He said, raising his voice slightly so that he could be heard over everyone. It dawned on you that you hadn’t seen him since lunch and cursed. You didn’t know what to tell him.

“Um yeah, just had a headache.” You said quickly. You let out a sigh of relief when you reached your locker.

“A headache? (Y/N), I thought you were going to pass out.”

You froze, your lock combination half done. “It was a really bad headache?”

He looked down and you swore he let out a sigh. Was he annoyed at you? When he met your eyes again he looked defeated and immediately you felt bad.

‘Doesn’t she know I care about her?’

You blushed but turned back to your lock when Peter raised an eyebrow. Awkwardly he cleared his throat and asked if you wanted to go over to his place to study.

“Now? What about the Stark thing?” You asked, closing your locker.

He shrugged. “It’s not like I do much there on a weekday anyway. Besides, we have that, um, maths quiz.”

‘Please say yes.’

You smiled and rolled your eyes. Maybe you could tell him you knew his secret. “Okay, lead the way Parker.”

After Peter opened the door to his apartment he let you in first, where you were presented with a woman rushing around madly. Peter closed the door with a soft thud and looked around the room in confusion.

“May?” He asked.

His aunt stopped to look at you both and smiled before she continued rushing around. The two of you remained standing where you were as she threw various items into her bag. Peter tried again.

“What’s going on?”

This time she stopped and closed her bag. “As of five minutes ago I have a date.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “A date? Like a date date?”

May rolled her eyes and laughed. “Yes, a date date.”

“But it’s 4pm.”

She shrugged. “It’ll take me an hour to get there. He lives outside of Queens.”

Peter readjusted the grip on his bag and didn’t say anything, but he drew his lips into a very thin line.

‘It doesn’t sound right. She shouldn’t go. Maybe I should go too. No that’s just weird.’

You smiled to yourself at Peter’s protectiveness over his aunt. Though he didn’t talk about it much you knew his parents had both been killed and his aunt was the only family he had left. You didn’t know her very well but you always admired her. Deciding that she had everything May grabbed her keys and walked over to Peter and yourself.

“Now I’ve left some meatloaf in the fridge that you can heat up if you’re hungry. I should be back by ten but keep your phone on you. Text me if you need anything, okay?”

Peter nodded and pulled a face when she kissed his head, but his thoughts revealed how much he loved the affection.

“(Y/N) it’s lovely to see you sweetie. Stay as long as you want.”

“Thanks May.”

She smiled and headed out the door. “Have fun, but not too much fun!”

And with that she closed the door and left. Peter stood stunned in his own apartment before he came to his senses and moved to his room. You followed him as he hastily made apologies about his aunt and the messy apartment (it seemed perfectly neat to you). Sometimes you wished people could read your mind, like now for example, so Peter could really see how much you didn’t mind and how you actually loved his aunt and his apartment, mess and all. Once in his room you took off your backpack and sat on a chair as he sat on his bed. Both of you got the appropriate books out and organized your things. You really liked being with Peter. He calmed you and he didn’t think a lot or make his thoughts loud, which was now an extremely valuable trait to you. There in his room, there was a genuine silence that settled between you two which extended to your mind. It wasn’t awkward or forced, just comfortable. You could tell he was tired and you guessed that you looked the same. Hoping to get your mind working you turned to the stack of books that were now on Peter’s desk.

“Okay so what did you want to go over? I’m okay with geometry but can’t do trig to save my life. Maybe if we start at chapter 2a...Pete?”

You looked up to find him slouched over his books, eyes drooping at a rapid pace. When he heard his name he jolted upright and looked at you, confused.

“What? Sorry (Y/N).” He sighed.

You frowned and moved the chair closer to him. Maths could wait.

“What’s going on?” You asked softly.

He shrugged. “I dunno. I guess I haven’t been sleeping much...and I’ve been busy with the Stark thing and school.”

You smiled out of sympathy as he stared at the floor. He genuinely looked tired and overworked. And now you knew that he was Spiderman, well his tiredness made more sense. He went to speak again when his phone buzzed. You saw it was a message from Ned before he leant over his books to pick up his phone, leaning closer to you as he did. Almost immediately his mood seemed to perk up, energy now radiating off him, as he read the message.

‘Finally something good.’

He went to jump up but glanced up at you and stopped.

‘Shit, I can’t leave (Y/N).’

“What?” You asked, acting like you couldn’t read his mind. He froze, trying to think of an excuse to leave. His eyes darted across the room nervously. With a sigh you allowed yourself to accept the truth. You had to tell him.

“Peter, go.”

He looked at you with wide eyes. “What are you talking about? Everything’s fine, I just need to-“

“I know you’re Spiderman.”

He went silent and froze. He stared at you, unblinking, as he slowly turned pale. You internally groaned. That was a mistake.

“(Y/N), I, erm, I mean what do you, um, I’m not-“

“Stop,” you sighed. “Go Peter. It’s fine. We’ll talk when you get back.”

He didn’t move, only stared at you with his big brown eyes. God they were dangerous. Slowly he stood and faced you, his face dangerously white with shock.

“(Y/N), please...”

“Go Peter. I’ll be waiting.”

He quickly looked at his phone again, as if he was making sure there was actually an emergency, before turning back to you. His eyes had gone wide and were full of regret and sorrow. They made you giddy and sad all at once. Finally he sighed and moved to his closet where he revealed a decent sized case. Carefully he opened it to reveal his suit, packed precisely. It was perfect, and you realized just how much he loved being Spiderman and what he did. It made you feel a bit guilty since this could be you and your life. You could be happy and helping others, yet you were too scared to face to world. Besides, mind reading was useless, at least that’s what you told yourself. You left his room to let him change and when you returned he was already gone.

It was sunset when he finally returned. After completing your homework you played on your phone and studied Peter’s room, fascinated by every little detail. It was clean and neat but had so many hidden secrets or objects. You laughed to yourself when you stumbled upon LEGO Star Wars figures. Even they were set up perfectly in their own place. When Peter did stumble back into his room you were sitting on his bed. Hastily you threw down your phone and stood up as he closed the window and took off his mask. You had to admit that you were speechless. He left before in such a rush that you didn’t see him in the suit. Now you were stunned by how much older and mature it made him look. You half expected him to look like an oversized kid without the mask but he looked like something else. A hero. He glanced at you and gave a weary smile, but you could tell that he was nervous. Peter sat next to you on his bed and stared at his mask which he held in his lap. You stared at your hands but let your eyes flicker over to him every so often. The silence still wasn’t awkward, but now it wasn’t exactly comfortable. It felt like there was an electric current between you, ready to strike at any moment. Peter cleared his throat, making you turn your head towards him. He didn’t lift his eyes.

“So, I’m Spiderman.”

You smiled and nodded. “I know.”

He frowned. “Yeah, but how? Was it Ned?”

“No! No, it wasn’t Ned.” You quickly replied. Instantly you saw him sigh in relief and felt guilty again. You couldn’t let him think that his best friend betrayed him, and you hated that the thought even crossed his mind. Ned had nothing to do with it. It was you. All you.

“It’s...well it’s complicated.” You finally said, not sure how to tell him.

‘How did she find out? If she tells anyone I’m screwed. Oh god, what will Mr Stark say?’

His thoughts came across quick and scattered in your mind. It was then that you realized just how worried he was. Spiderman was a big deal to him. No, it meant the world to him. You’d never seen him so happy or so invested in anything. He had a right to know, even if it hurt you.

“I won’t tell anyone.” You mumbled. He looked at you sideways as his eyebrows came together in slight confusion. You knew that was because the thought had crossed his mind, yet he dismissed it for coincidence. You sighed and glanced over at him. The light from the setting sun behind Peter was blinding, and it bathed him in a golden light. It blurred his edges and imperfections. His tousled hair became fairer, his skin tanner, his suit a pale red. It was a beautiful sight but you couldn’t let yourself get caught up in the moment. You had to carry on and get the job done. He had a right to know.

“I found out...from you.” You started slowly, trying to explain it simply to Peter. However you were already failing miserably as his eyes grew wide.

“Me?”

You stuttered and stumbled over words until you thought of a coherent sentence. “Let me start again. I found out through you, yes. But you didn’t say it. You...you thought it.”

Peter’s face grew more confused as you tried to tell him the truth without explicitly saying it.

“Thought it?”

“Um, yeah. Because, well a couple of weeks ago, I was in an accident.”

“Yeah I remember, I had to FaceTime you to explain the chemistry formula while you lied in bed.”

You laughed softly at the memory. You couldn’t believe he remembered that.

“Yes, that accident. But it did more than confine me to my bed.”

You turned to face him and, for a moment, you were tempted to take his hands into yours but decided against it. That was too intimate.

“Pete, I’m going to sound crazy.” You laughed nervously. Your eyes couldn’t meet his. Sensing your anxiety Peter leant over and grabbed your hands. You smiled internally as his warm hands squeezed yours to comfort you. He didn’t let go.

“(Y/N), I’m freaking Spiderman. I think I can handle anything.”

You gave him a weak smile as he looked at you with anticipation clear in in his eyes. You proceeded.

“I...I can read minds.”

Silence followed your confession as it laid heavily between you both. Peter’s grip on your hands loosened but he didn’t let go. His face went slack, as did his thoughts. For once it was impossible to read him. There was no thoughts or expressions. Nothing. He was a blank canvas, and nothing terrified you more.

“Peter, please say something.” You finally whispered as you waited for the verdict. When he didn’t respond you begrudgingly removed your hands from his, recoiling away from him. You needed to leave.

“Wait,” He stammered. “You read minds?”

You were now frozen on the edge of his bed, his eyes staring intently at you.

‘Please don’t leave’.

You settled in your new position, legs over the side of the bed, but made no effort to face him again. The distance was almost unbearable to you after being so close.

“I read minds.” You repeated.

‘What am I thinking about?’.

You giggled as Peter’s thought entered your head. He raised his eyebrows.

“You actually-“

“Know you’re asking me what you’re thinking about? Yep.”

Slowly a smile spread across his face.

“That’s freaking awesome! Mind reading!”

You blushed and bit your lip, shocked by his reaction.

“Awesome?”

“Of course it is. Shit (Y/N), you read minds.”

This time you laughed. The bed shifted as Peter moved to sit next to you. He sat centimetres away from you, shoulders almost touching. It made your heart race.

“You know that this means we can fight crime together right?”

You laughed and rolled your eyes. “Absolutely not.”

His face dropped. “What? Why?”

“I’m no hero. I don’t want to fight bad guys or save cats from trees. I want to be a teenager who works and complains about school and goes to parties-“

“You hate parties.”

“Not the point Peter.”

You stared at your hands, not wanting to see the disappointment in his eyes. He didn’t understand. He was fearless and brave, unlike you. You were so lost in your thoughts that you jumped when something touched your hand. It was Peter trying to pull your hands into his own. You let him but didn’t meet his eyes.

“I wish I could read your mind.” He mumbled.

You laughed. “Me too.”

Peter shook his head and gripped your hands. “No, you don’t understand. I want to know what you’re thinking and feeling. I want to know what you see in yourself. Why don’t you believe in yourself? What do I say? I’m lost, but I swear I’m trying to help. I’m just not good at it.”

Slowly you looked up to find him looking away. Gently you removed one hand from his grip to turn his face towards yours. His dark eyes looked down in defeat.

“Hey, it’s not your fault. In fact, you’re amazing. You’re my best friend Peter. Trust me, I wish you could read my mind too so you could see that I’m freaking out but I trust you. I do...”

Your voice grew quieter as you spoke until it was barely a whisper. Peter raised his hand to lay it over yours, which was still cradling his cheek. You stayed like this for a while, but one irritating thought just wouldn’t leave your mind. No matter how hard you tried to push it away it remained. You had to ask.

“Were you going to tell me?” You asked, pulling your hands back to yourself. Peter let go and looked at you.

‘Spiderman?’ He thought. You nodded sheepishly.

“Yes...no. I don’t know,” he confessed. “I wanted to, I really did. But it was a risk and I...”

Peter trailed off as your heart sank. He wasn’t going to tell you? You knew it was unfair to be mad at him, after all you weren’t planning on telling him about your powers, but it felt personal.

“Who else?” You asked. When he started to shake his head you snapped. “Peter don’t freaking lie to me. I know Ned knows. Does MJ? Did you tell everyone but me?”

“(Y/N) calm down! No, they don’t...they didn’t know. Ned found out by accident, I wasn’t going to tell him. I haven’t told MJ so I think she doesn’t know, but she knows everything.”

“And me?”

“You were different.”

You laughed sarcastically. “How Peter, enlighten me.”

“I like you.” He almost screamed, competing with your increasing volume. You blinked at him, both your cheeks red from yelling. The two of you never fought, so this was all new. And then he had...feelings? For you? You felt dizzy and you failed to think of something to say. Your mind was blank and Peter was tense: you could feel it radiating off him.

‘Say something.’

His thought was desperate and weak but there all the same. You didn’t look at him, you couldn’t, when you finally spoke.

“Me?” You muttered.

Peter nodded and refused to meet your eyes as well. The silence was crushing you as you stared at anything but Peter. If this was a movie, you would have confessed your own attraction and he would have proceeded to kiss you as the final credits rolled. Alas, this was reality where nothing was quite as perfect. Instead neither of you would speak or look each other in the eye. Each person was killing the other. You knew you had to speak, to say something, to save Peter from his misery. Yet no words would come to mind. Nothing. For the first time in a while, your mind was completely silent. No thoughts from you or Peter, only a void.

“I...” you began but quickly stopped, realizing you didn’t know how that sentence was going to continue.

“Don’t, (Y/N). Just don’t. I don’t need your pity.” His voice was emotionless and sent tears to your eyes. How could you do this, hurt your best friend? The boy who loved you? Time was slipping away and you had to act quickly, otherwise it would be too late.

“I don’t know what to say...”

“(Y/N), I said don’t. Just go-“

“Peter shut the hell up!” You interrupted. “I don’t know what to say because I’m terrified, because I feel the same way. And I want this to be perfect but it’s not and I’m not good enough.”

Peter’s eyes went wide.

‘Not good enough?’

He finally looked you in the eye, his own raw with emotion. “Are you kidding? You? You are perfect, and I mean it.”

You laughed in sorrow. “Says the boy who saves people’s lives and can swing building to building.”

“So what if I can jump from a building to another? That doesn’t matter. I will never be as smart or as kind or as beautiful as you, and that’s what matters.”

You looked at him, eyes wide with shock. He genuinely cared about you, your best friend. Your Spiderman. Clumsily Peter fumbled for your hand, not once breaking eye contact, and pulled them into his lap. You gripped onto his hands out of love and fear. This was everything you ever wanted, yet you never imagined feeling so scared. You shifted and moved your body to fully face him, Peter then following your lead. Finally here you were, face to face. No secrets. No judgement. No powers. Just two teenagers who were desperately in love, and nothing terrified them more.

“Shit Peter, I don’t want to stuff this up.” You confessed, your eyes flickering down to your holding hands.

“Me too,” Peter said, taking in a shaky breath. “I can’t lose you.”

And there it lay, the imminent truth, exposed and in the open. There was no returning now to what you were before. This was end game. Eventually you loosened the grip on his hands and you both sat in silence, tracing patterns on each other’s palms. There was something intimate about the small gesture that made you take a leap of faith.

“Can I tell you something?” You whispered as talking seemed too loud. Peter nodded, staring at you intently as he bit his lip. God he was adorable.

“I can’t control my powers, and they terrify me. And I don’t know who else to tell but you.”

Peter nodded understandably, his face full of concentration.

‘Think Parker, it’s your time to shine. But oh my god she’s so beautiful...shit she can hear this can’t she?’

Peter sheepishly looked up and grimaced when he saw humour in your eyes.

“You heard that didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry. See, THIS is why it’s a problem.” You explained. Internally you couldn’t believe that he thought you were pretty. “And you don’t have to prove yourself. You know that right?”

Peter nodded and gave your hand a squeeze. By this stage you had figured out that not only did he love physical affection, but he loved hand holding. And that was adorable.

“I know, but it’s you and I like you and...that’s it!” He broke off mid-sentence and stared at you, eyes mimicking a child’s in a candy store. You raised an eyebrow, curious.

“What? What’s it?”

“I know how to deal with your powers. The Avengers!”

You gave him a sympathetic smile. “Pete, thank you, but I already said-“

“You don’t want to be a hero, I get it. But I know the Avengers. They could help you understand and control your powers. Besides, I did travel to Berlin for Stark so he owes me one.”

Joy and excitement filled you. The Avengers? Helping you? It seemed surreal but it made sense; they were all heroes with powers or a better understanding of how they worked.

“You would do that for me?” You asked with a small voice.

“I’d do anything for you.”

It was easily the cheesiest thing for Peter to say, but in the moment it was perfect. Looking at his excited eyes you allowed yourself to smile wide. He smiled back, energy radiating off the two of you. In the moment you flung yourself at Peter and hugged him tight, arms clinging around his neck. After the initial surprise Peter relaxed and hugged you back, his hands holding your waist. His hands sent electricity through your body. You had never felt more alive or loved than in that moment. He laughed in your ear at your happiness, his warm breath fanning your neck. You buried your head into the crook of his collarbone and held him, your body melting into his. The closeness didn’t feel intimidating or awkward to either of you: it felt right. Tomorrow things would become complicated and difficult. Peter would contact the Avengers and your training would begin. Soon he would be out in the field again, being a friendly neighbourhood Spiderman. But in that moment, nothing mattered but the closeness of your bodies and the undeniable happiness that both of you felt. And it was in that moment that you truly, whole heartedly fell for Peter. As fate would have it, it was the exact moment that Peter fell for you too. You knew it before the thought even crossed your mind.

‘God, I love you (Y/N). ‘

#spiderman #peter parker x reader #peter parker #marvel #mcu #avengers #writing #fanfiction #imagine #mind reader #my writing #spiderman x reader #fanfic #love #spiderman homecoming #tom holland #reader insert

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unityghost · 5 years

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Part 13 of my angstalicious series Post-Asmodeus Sabriel Feels. Finals are over and I have a holiday installment coming up, then a bunch of prompts. Time to be Author McBitch.

Daytime was getting to be more manageable. But Gabriel’s patience wore thin as the nightmares continued to harass him almost every time he closed his eyes, more than half a year since he’d come to stay with Sam and Dean at the bunker.

Gabriel had been so sure that as his grace gradually returned – a process still ongoing – and he needed less and less sleep to function properly, the bad dreams would become shorter. Less vivid.

But almost every night, they did what they had since his rescue: broken up his sleep, made him need more sleep, and ultimately hindered the replenishment of his grace.

Practice made it easier to keep from disturbing other people – people who had already done too much to try to hold him in one piece. He grew accustomed to waiting out the rest of the night alone. It was now almost instinctual to lie in bed instead of collapsing to the floor, to roll over and throw up into the trash can instead of on himself, to wait patiently for any impending abuse instead of trying to fight back.

But sometimes Gabriel wasn’t successful: he would succumb to a fit of panic, sobbing for help; he would vomit all over the sheets; he would grew desperate enough that he ran out of his room and stumbled over his own feet, pitching to the floor and inevitably waking someone up.

Castiel was usually the first to notice Gabriel’s distress, since he was the only one among them that required no sleep at all. He never reacted with alarm or confusion, and never asked questions. Instead, he simply did what he could to get Gabriel through the worst of it: sitting with him, quietly insisting that he was no longer in danger, holding him steady while he got sick, remaining patient as Gabriel gave in to memories that refused to remain memories.

Gabriel appreciated his brother’s assistance. In those moments of terror, he was grateful for a reassuring presence.

Still, it was no secret to any of them that Gabriel had an extreme preference for Sam.

It was Sam who had coaxed him out of insanity shortly following his rescue. Sam had seen him at his worst, worse than what the others thought was the ugliest he could get. Whereas Castiel, too, had witnessed the immediate aftermath of Gabriel’s liberation, Sam had been the one to press on Gabriel’s vulnerabilities just hard enough to show that he knew where they were, but not with enough force to increase the pain.

Gabriel had responded with the first of many violent seizures of fear and sickness, and Sam didn’t leave. Nor did he squirm or look away. He did what he could to make touch seem a little less damning, to furnish at least the illusion of safety.

So at this point, especially now that this same process had taken place at least once every couple of weeks since that first episode of self-debasement, Sam was the only one Gabriel really wanted nearby in the fallout of a nightmare. It helped to have someone else, anyone else, because of course the alternative was being alone; but having Sam there was different from not having Sam there.

So there were times when Gabriel could cope by himself, and times when he was compelled to seek assistance.

And then there were times when the source of help absolutely had to be Sam.

Tonight, the dream dragged on for a long while before Gabriel woke up. When he did, the darkness felt thick, warm, and sour. Images from the dream clattered through his mind in pieces and he strove to identify exactly what it was that had caused him to feel so …

In fact, he wasn’t sure what he was feeling. His reaction to the dream, like the dream itself, took some organization. In any case, he was sweaty and trembling.

Then, as if in sync with his wild heartbeat, pictures and voices began to come together.

“He’s right here.” Gabriel recognized Dean’s voice.

“Where’s Sam?” Gabriel. That was Gabriel.

“Just hold him down, Dean.” Castiel. “He won’t fight.”

The floor of the hall was slippery, so that Gabriel couldn’t stand without struggling and was unable to focus on anything other than maintaining his balance. He had no way of knowing how close the voices were.

He slipped, spilling onto the floor.

Gabriel shivered. He no longer tried to recall the nightmare; he was now powerless to slow its return.

“Dean, are you sure we should be following these orders? I don’t want to give in to Asmodeus if I can help it.”

“We tried, Cas. Gabriel’s a pain. I told you that. He’s taking too long.”

“Well, I suppose at least Asmodeus will find him useful.”

Gabriel tried to get up from the floor but was pushed back down – not violently, but firmly – and recognized the pressure and tightness of the hands as Dean’s.

“What are you doing to me?” Gabriel screamed. “Please, please, get Sam!”

A knife through his back, pinning him down, forcing his breath away, stinging as he flailed and choked.

“Asmodeus told me this trick always worked. Come on, Cas. Let’s go see if he’s ready yet.”

Gabriel tried to speak, tried to ask what Asmodeus was ready for, but managed only a whisper and lost more breath.

Gabriel sat up in bed, trying to shut out the rest. But it flooded him.

Taking quick, shallow breaths, Gabriel leapt out of bed and, only half-aware of what he was doing, sprinted to the door.

After that nightmare – images of which still crawled through his conscience – Gabriel felt that he had no dignity to sacrifice, not when he’d just been locked to the floor with a knife through his spine, waiting for Asmodeus to drag him back to Hell.

Gabriel didn’t care what happened next. He only knew he couldn’t remain lying prostrate in the hall, stabbed and suffocated by people he had thought - foolishly - he might be able to trust.

Do you trust Sam? he asked himself, and the answer was a mess. He did trust Sam, but felt that he shouldn’t; and yet he didn’t trust Sam, even as he desperately wanted to. He was sure now that Sam would never intend to cause him harm, but he was also convinced that Sam didn’t have the grit to keep helping him.

And this - was this a mistake? Running to Sam in the dead of night, risking punishment and further humiliation?

Instinct overrode analysis.

Gabriel didn’t even pause to knock on the door. Immediately, Sam switched on the bedside lamp, gun raised and aimed directly at Gabriel. Perhaps Gabriel should have expected it. Even so, he threw his arms over his face and stumbled backwards.

He heard the weapon being lain on the bedside table, and then Sam climbing out of bed and moving towards him.

Sam pried Gabriel’s arms away from his face. “Hey hey hey, I just didn’t know it was you. You’re all right.”

The gun had given Gabriel such a shock that he now shook hard enough to make standing a challenge. He thought again of falling to the floor before Dean shoved him into submission.

“Sorry,” Sam said, bracing both hands on either of Gabriel’s shoulders. “I’m sorry; I left because you fell asleep.”

Sam had taken to staying with Gabriel until Gabriel was no longer awake. Sam had been the one to suggest it, and while Gabriel had initially scoffed and reminded Sam that as long as he was playing nursemaid, Gabriel was never going to regain even a fragment of his former self, he didn’t try to argue a second time.

Now, Sam guided Gabriel to the bed and helped him sit. “You look pretty riled up.”

“Yeah, I …I’m sorry, Sam; I couldn’t help it.”

“No, don’t worry. You’re okay now. It’s all over. Oh, hang on - ” He went to the closet and brought back a plastic bucket, which he placed in front of the bed. “Figured it was better to keep on hand than the trash. Just, you know, if you need it.”

Gabriel blinked at the bucket. “You have bigger things to worry about. But I guess there’s less chance of me puking all over your bed.”

Sam took a seat beside him. “Tell me what’s up.”

.Gabriel lowered his gaze to his lap. “Stupid nightmares being stupid.”

“I figured. The usual? Or something new?” Sam knew that there was no shortage of fresh material.

Gabriel’s flesh crawled as the dream broke through once more. “I’ve never had this one.”

“Must’ve been pretty bad.”

“It - yeah.” He tried to meet Sam’s eyes and immediately looked away again. “Your brother. And my brother. They - they, uh - ”

“You don’t have to tell me if you feel like you can’t.”

“No, I’m fine.” Gabriel steeled himself. At this point he had settled down just enough to feel embarrassed. The least he could do was give Sam an explanation for why he had intruded upon his much-needed sleep. “Dean and Cas rammed a knife through my back so that Asmodeus could get to me. I was held in place - on the floor - like it was a stake or something. Left me feeling a little …” His throat tightened. “I mean, I woke up and you were the only safe person left.”

Sam rested a hand on Gabriel’s back. “I’m here. You wanna lie down?”

Gabriel shook his head. “Might fall asleep. I’d rather stay awake and pity myself than listen to Dean and Castiel talk about how hopeless I am.”

Sam frowned, letting his hand slide off. “Is that why Asmodeus was coming back for you? Because Dean and Cas decided you were a lost cause?”

Gabriel grimaced. “You put the pieces together fast, don’t you? Yeah. That was why. They said they’d tried to help me but it didn’t work, and Asmodeus would at least find me - ”

But the word froze on his tongue.

“Would find you what?” asked Sam.

Gabriel pulled his knees up to his chest. “‘Useful.’”

Sam seemed unsurprised. “You don’t have to be useful. In any case, you’ve been great with the translations. But we wouldn’t give you back to Asmodeus. Of course we wouldn’t. We’d rather keep you here.”

“That’s nice of you,” Gabriel muttered. “I - I just - if I’m, you know, expendable, then why should I stick around?”

“‘Stick around’?” Sam sounded wary.

“Stick around in the bunker, I mean,” Gabriel clarified, because he knew that if he said what he really meant then the conversation would shift course. “You could throw me away any time you want. I mean, look, it scares the everliving shit out of me, but when I really consider the big picture, Dean and Cas weren’t actually incorrect. Not saying you’d feed me to Asmodeus - just making note of the fact that I was useful to him and now I … I’m not useful to anyone.”

Sam stared at him in disbelief. “You don’t have to be useful to be worth something.” He thought for a moment, then added, “People pay out the ass just to be able to put sparkly rocks on the shelf. And what good to they do? People just want to have them there.”

Gabriel gave a hollow laugh. “I’m pretty sure I’m just your standard boulder. The kind you trip over. The kind with bugs crawling around underneath.”

“Okay, well, giving bugs somewhere to live is way more helpful than just looking pretty.”

“Sam …” Gabriel tried to take a deep breath and found he couldn’t. “It isn’t being useful that matters. It’s that being useful is the only thing that makes me matter.”

Sam looked distressed. “Don’t say things like - ”

“Grace. I’m good for my grace.” Gabriel felt his throat tighten and coughed to clear it. “So long as I’m here, just waking up to throw a fit, I don’tmatter, okay? And when I was with him,” Gabriel plowed on as Sam opened his mouth, “I wasn’t anything; I was … I was nothing. But I mattered. Because I could supply something that mattered. And now …” He swallowed. “Now I can’t even do that.”

“Gabe, come on.”

“Can’t think of a solid excuse for that one, can you? Good. This is just how things are, Sam. I’m worth my grace and I barely have enough to heal a bruise. Or maybe I’m good for a fight here and there, or - or whatever anyone wants to do with me, you know? Lay me down, play their games - I’m useful for that.”

Sam looked nauseated. “Gabriel, stop.”

Gabriel raked his hands through his hair. It felt greasy. Sam was right; he needed to clean himself up. “Sometimes I think it’d make sense. Scares me, but you guys might as well ship me off somewhere I actually have a purpose.”

“Gabriel, don’t. Please.” Sam gripped his shoulder. “You’re in a bad place and you need to get better. This isn’t the time for you to be useful, okay? This is a time for you to listen. So listen to me. What if it were Cas? What if he was in pain and told you he thought we should only keep him around for servitude?”

Gabriel shook his head. “I’m not trying to tell you I don’t appreciate all the TLC. I’m just saying that the dream hurt, but it wasn’t wrong.”

Sam tightened his grasp. “I don’t understand why you’re putting yourself through more abuse.”

Gabriel shrugged, half-expecting Sam to let go of his shoulder. When he held on, Gabriel looked up at him. “I know what I’m good for. And at the moment I’m good for bulking up your daycare resume. I still think you’re going to learn the hard way that you’re spending time on a project that can’t be finished. But if working on it right now makes you happy, then … well, I’m glad to be a part of that.”

“Jesus Christ, Gabriel.” This time Sam did release him. “Come on. Don’t hurt yourself like that. Here, lie down for a second; you can just - ”

Gabriel recoiled. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not.” The sensation of the knife through his back sullied the security of Sam’s presence.

“All right.” Sam spoke softly. “But you know none of this is real, don’t you? You know Dean and Cas would never do something like that, right? And Asmodeus is dead, but even if he did try to take you, we’d put up a good fight. He’s not getting anywhere near you. Mostly because he’s gone, but also because even if he wasn’t, we’d keep you safe.”

Despite Sam’s words, Gabriel began to shiver more forcefully. “But what if - ”

“No. There’s no ‘what if.’”

“If they - I think - ” He drew a shaky breath and looked up at Sam. “If Dean or Castiel decided they’d had more than their fair share of a psychotic archangel, that’s their right. They never said anything about wanting me. But if - if you - ”

“Don’t.”

“If you were the one to shove a knife through me - ”

“I said don’t!”

“I’d never tell you you shouldn’t, but - ”

“You don’t have to tell me! We’ve been through this; I’m not gonna throw you onto the streets or into the pit just because you’re not at a hundred percent right now! What, you think Dean and Cas should’ve done that to me?”

“No!” The thought was enough to turn Gabriel’s stomach. “But that’s different. You guys are family. You’re family in a way that even Cas and I aren’t.”

“But Cas cares about you. So does Dean. And Jack. And you’ve made it clear that you think I shouldn’t care, but I do. Quit waiting for the other shoe to drop. Gabriel, your job isn’t to stand sentry until one of us gets fed up; it’s to leave Asmodeus behind and start trusting us when we say you shouldn’t have been tortured. None of us wants to see you like this, and all of us want you to get better. For your sake, not ours.”

Gabriel shifted his eyes once more to his lap, not sure how to respond. Finally, he managed to say, “This is a no-win situation. I don’t heal, I mooch off of you guys. I get better, it’s time for me to go.”

“What? Who told you that?”

“Just makes sense.”

“We’re not getting rid of you.”

“No, it’s okay; you should. I don’t mind; I just …” He curled his hands into fists, and felt a tear spill down his cheek. “All right. I mind. But - I also understand.”

“Dude, will you stop making plans for us? You can stay as long as you want.”

Gabriel lowered his head further, trying to shield his face, sick of crying in front of Sam. “I feel like - like I’ve got to prepare myself.”

He felt Sam shift closer. “You spent over eight hundred years with Asmodeus, preparing yourself for his next move. Don’t you think you deserve a little time to relax?”

Gabriel choked on a muffled sob. It was as though he still lacked autonomy, as though everything he’d faced was still trying to wrestle itself out of him and the desperate ferocity of its efforts kept Gabriel himself from getting free.

He swiped at his face with the heels of his hands. “I think you and your brother should train me to control myself.”

“It’s okay,” Sam said quietly. “You know you’re allowed to show me what’s going on.”

“And you’re allowed to mix ectoplasm into a milkshake, but that doesn’t make it a good idea.” He straightened up and looked at Sam. “We both need this to end. Sooner or later it’s just going to get worse. Habits are hard to break, and I can’t say I’m proud of losing my shit every time we’re in the same room.”

“Take it easy. Now’s not the time to worry about saving face.” He touched Gabriel’s arm. “You’re sick, Gabriel. When you’re sick you’re not supposed to care what other people think. All you need to do is rest up and let us take care of you.”

Almost unaware of what he was doing, Gabriel seized Sam’s hand. “Don’t say things like that.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause it hurts, man. I don’t know what to do with it. I’m scared I’m gonna mess up and change your mind.”

“What could you possibly do to mess up that bad?”

Gabriel clutched Sam’s hand, feeling stupid but desperate. “Like this. Waking up and harassing you. Clinging to you like a squid. Spilling my guts when you have your own memories to deal with. The Cage, and … and whatever you haven’t told me. I know that some of what I say to you hits close to home, Sam. And eventually it’s going to be too much.”

Sam squeezed back. “No, that’s not going to happen. I’ve had time to handle my own crap. Besides, the more I know what it’s like, the more I want to help. You aren’t making anything worse.”

“But Dean said - ” Gabriel hesitated. “Dean said you get like me. That’s got to make it hard to drag yourself through everything I tell you. Everything you have to watch.”

Sam looked discomfited. “Dean told you that? I wish he hadn’t. Uh - yeah, I have the occasional bad day. But - you know - even the worst aren’t what they used to be. Not as often. Not as intense. I promise you aren’t making things more difficult than they need to be.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well, I still promise.”

Gabriel stared down at Sam’s hand, big enough to swallow up his own. “You think Dean would ever go for that? You know, if I did something to really bug him?”

Sam’s eyes widened in horror. “What? Pin you to the floor with a knife?”

“He’s not as patient as you are. I could see him giving me up if the opportunity arose.”

“My brother would never do something like that! Even if he tried - he won’t, but supposing he did - you think I’d just step aside and let it happen?”

A tear splashed onto Sam’s knuckles. “I hope not.”

“Gabriel, please don’t worry so much. It’s bad for you. It’s not gonna help.”

Gabriel didn’t say anything, just focused on the knot in his throat and tried to keep his breathing under control.

“And neither is that,” Sam added.

Gabriel glanced up. “Hmm?”

“How come you’re still so squeamish about me seeing you get upset?”

The question took Gabriel by surprise. “I’m not squeamish. I just don’t want to make it more of a habit than it already is.” Gabriel glanced at the clock. 4:32. “You should go to sleep, Sam. I’ll be okay. I just wanted to see you because I was freaking out.”

“Why don’t I come back to your room?” Sam suggested.

Gabriel climbed off the mattress. “No. I’m gonna … I don’t know. I’ll find something to do.”

“I kind of feel like you’re not done,” Sam replied.

“What?”

“Just … it seems like this is still bothering you.”

“I - ” Gabriel’s chest tightened as he looked at Sam.

Sam met his gaze, brow furrowed in concern.

“Son of a bitch,” Gabriel whispered, and broke into a quiet fit of sobbing.

“Okay,” Sam said softly. “It’s okay. Come here.”

Gabriel didn’t move, caught halfway between wanting to sacrifice control entirely and wanting to run out of the room.

“Are you afraid of me touching you?” Sam asked.

Gabriel shook his head.

“Then why don’t you want to come sit?”

Gabriel didn’t respond, only stood in place, head bent, striving for some semblance of dignity.

It was late. Or early. In any case, the wrong hour for getting worked up like this.

“Gabriel, what can I do?” Sam pressed.

Still avoiding Sam’s eyes, Gabriel croaked, “This is dumb. The guilt is making everything worse. You’re tired, I’m tired - ”

“I’m not that tired.”

“Shut up; it’s almost 5:00 A.M.”

“Well, I’m awake now. And besides, I’m used to sleeping two or three hours at a time.” He paused. “I feel like we’re not finished talking, though. Your whole thing about” - he used air quotations - “‘being useful’?”

Gabriel remained silent.

“I know what it feels like,” Sam continued. “I was never good for just being me. I was good for hunting.”

Gabriel scrubbed at his face with his sleeve. “Your old man feed you that BS?”

“Yeah. And it still rings true.”

“Jesus Christ Sam, no.”

“It does. And Cas feels that way now and again as well. He’s lost his grace more than once, and when he was human he worried about not being good enough.”

“My brother worried about that? Why? You guys wouldn’t care about his grace; he’s special to you.”

“You’re right. We tried telling him that, but I don’t think he was ever fully convinced. The point is that we wanted him here, and we want you here too.” Sam smiled. “We like you.”

“Pfft. That’s nice.”

“No, I mean it. Can’t you tell?”

Gabriel shrugged.

“Who asked you to be useful, Gabe?” Sam continued. “We just want to see you heal up. And after that, you can decide whether you want to stick around. It’d be good to have you. Even if you make the choice to move on, you’d at least have to come hang out once in a while.”

For a few moments, Gabriel didn’t speak. When he did, he chose his words carefully. “You really seem to believe you aren’t going to change your mind. I … the truth is there have been times when I thought maybe I was worrying too much. But I don’t want to tempt myself with that, because the risk of being disappointed is too big. Better to just arm myself now. Otherwise, I think I might end up catatonic.”

“There’s no use in getting ready for something that won’t happen.”

“And if it does?” Gabriel crossed his arms, folding himself in, an old reflex that was hard to abandon. “I’m not saying it will, but the fact that it might is more than enough incentive for me to start stocking up on resilience.”

Sam sighed. “Okay. I don’t think I can make you believe me. Suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.” He scratched at the back of his neck. “Just wish you’d learn that not all of us are Asmodeus.”

Gabriel hadn't expected those words. “I don’t think that.”

“Well, maybe not that exactly, but the shit he put you through, the way he taught you to raise your defenses - it stuck. And it’s hard for me to unstick.”

“It’s not your responsibility to unstick it,” Gabriel reminded him.

Sam got to his feet. “No, but you need to shake it off. Look, whether or not I change my mind about any of this - you have to change your mind. I think you have to start telling yourself that it’ll be okay. I know that sounds like it won’t help but - ”

“Positive … self … talk,” Gabriel said, pretending to take notes. “Thanks, Oprah.”

“You could at least do a trial run.”

Gabriel groaned, battling the early sting of a headache. “His voice is too loud.”

“I know.”

“How am I supposed to shut it out?”

“I guess you just practice.”

“That ever work for you?”

Sam had to consider this for a moment. “Yeah. I guess I didn’t notice until now, but I think it’s made a difference.”

“Huh.”

“So you have all these feelings that you’re worthless, and that you’re a mess. You told me once you thought Asmodeus was right to torment you like he did.”

“I remember,” Gabriel muttered. Some time ago, Sam had taken him out for a trip to the local diner, during which time Dean had called to ask about an error in Gabriel’s translation of a Men of Letters text. Gabriel was so horrified by his mistake that he’d told Sam he was sure Asmodeus had done the right thing.

“And you have it in your head,” Sam went on, “That we should all just cut you out of our lives because you’re annoying and hopeless.”

Gabriel smiled wryly. “You’ve been listening.”

“So tell yourself exactly the opposite. It sucks, it’s hard, but Asmodeus is the one who’s annoying. Shut him up.”

Gabriel bit his lip. “The problem is that I think he might be onto something. ”

“He’s not. Make him stop talking. He did it to you, remember?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “No Sam, I forgot.”

“Let him see what it’s like. Whenever that voice tries to tell you something about who you are, or what you deserve …” Sam gave a knowing smile. “Pull out that needle and thread.”

Gabriel pictured it, anticipating revulsion - but the image gave him grim satisfaction. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll test it out.”

“Good.” Sam stretched, then asked, “How do you feel about grabbing some coffee so that we can both function like normal humans?”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Humans, huh?”

Sam looked embarrassed. “I meant …”

“I know what you meant. It’s fine. Sooner or later you won’t ever be tempted to make that mistake again.”

“You want a hug?”

Gabriel blinked. “I’m sorry, what? Where did that come from?”

“I just figured I’d ask.”

“When and why did you decide this?”

“If you don’t think - ”

“Shut up, I didn’t say no. Just give me a little warning next time.” He wrapped his arms around Sam, holding tightly. Sam returned the embrace.

“Sorry I’m so difficult,” Gabriel muttered, still clinging to him. “And you don’t need to say I’m not; I know that I am. It’s okay. I know this must be rough on you. So as guilty as I feel, I still appreciate you not giving up on me.”

“Yeah, of course.” Sam pulled away to meet Gabriel’s eyes. “I wouldn’t do that. And I think what you meant to say is that the circumstances are difficult.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, you’re more than just your hunting abilities.”

“And you’re more than however much grace you can supply. Let’s go get some coffee. If anything'll boost your grace levels, it’s that Starbucks stuff Dean splurged on.”

Part of Gabriel wanted to protest that partaking of their expensive coffee would be unfair, that he didn’t deserve it. But then he remembered what Sam had said to him - remembered that Gabriel had told Sam he would try and put it into practice.

I deserve the stupid coffee, he thought, feeling self-conscious.

There. He’d fulfilled his promise to Sam. At least he was useful for that much.

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cateyes-bane · 7 years

Text

yes, alec, your boyfriend can take you down any day

sparring idea by @lovetheskyisblue69 , bow and arrow idea by @1128sarahserrano!! thank you!

let me know what you think!

Jace had told Alec that he wanted to get a training session in before dinner and Alec was in desperate need to blow off some steam as well. Magnus had come to the Institute after an easy day and the two walked out of Alec’s office and towards the training room. “Are you gonna stay or should I meet you back at the loft?” asked Alec as they turned a corner.

Magnus knew that Alec had been insanely stressed out recently. Apparently Clave orders were getting stricter and stricter by the day, and some of the Shadowhunters were beginning to take liberties in their duties just because Alec had been appointed Head. Magnus smiled and placed a comforting hand on Alec’s back. “I’ll stay,” he reassured, knowing Alec would want someone to walk home with. Alec grinned in response but Magnus raised an eyebrow. “But… only if you wear that tank top I love?”

Alec’s heart skipped a beat or ten thousand at the sight of Magnus’ smirk before he was able to reply. “You are unbelievable,” he replied and Magnus only bit his lip and smiled back in response.

Alec had gotten changed rather quickly and the two had waited for a good 10 minutes before Alec realised that Jace had clearly forgotten his commitment and wasn’t turning up. Alec’s sour mood had returned once again and he let out a rather loud frustrated sigh which Magnus noticed. It was getting late so the training room was empty and Magnus could tell that even though Alec was a lot more comfortable, he was looking forward to sparring with Jace.

“I’d be happy to help,” said Magnus, getting up from leaning on the wall.

Alec frowned and looked back at his boyfriend. “You can fight?” he asked, only a hint of humour in his voice. Magnus raised an eyebrow and Alec knew full well that Magnus could fight but he didn’t want this to be unfair. “Without magic?” he clarified and Magnus scoffed.

He walked closer to Alec and the boy felt his heart rate quicken. “Do you dare to underestimate the High Warlock of Brooklyn, Alexander?” he asked in a low voice. Alec couldn’t seem to close his mouth. He couldn’t even bring himself to blink. His mind went completely blank, and he could feel his heart begin to ache and his eyes go blurry just at the sight of the man in front of him.

He swallowed and diverted his eyes from Magnus’ unexpectedly intense gaze. “Of course not,” he breathed out and walked backwards to get into position. “Let’s go.”

Magnus smirked and made his way over to a chair, took his jacket off, and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. Alec swallowed hard, trying to look anywhere but at Magnus’ arms. Hundreds of thoughts ran through his head but an overwhelming sense of ‘how is this real’ washed over him as he looked at Magnus. Eventually, Alec rolled his eyes and shifted back into his normal state of mind, clearing his throat to compose himself.

Quickly, Alec realised that Magnus was not one to be messed with. He was aware that his boyfriend was the High Warlock but he had no idea just how good he was at hand-to-hand combat. Magnus fought well and unlike anyone Alec had encountered before. He was used to the strict rules of his training and hadn’t had the experience of fighting some who wasn’t a Shadowhunter. Alec thought that maybe Magnus had picked a lot of this up by getting into actual fights but didn’t allow himself to get distracted by the possibilities.

Though Magnus was swift, Alec had had a lifetime of fight training and took Magnus down within a couple of minutes. But Magnus didn’t back down. Instead, Alec’s stomach turned uneasily at the way Magnus only smiled. He was close enough to see the few specks of gold under Magnus’ eyes but not close enough to feel his breath and oh, did Alec want to feel it in that moment. He could feel Magnus’ heartbeat against his forearm and it reminded him of the steadiness of a clock. So much so, that Alec found himself lost in his thought for much longer than he could afford.

In one swift movement, Magnus twisted under Alec’s arm and managed to flip themselves over. Magnus slammed Alec down, a knee between the boy’s legs and an arm under his chin. Alec still couldn’t seem to wipe that silly grin off his face and the fact that Magnus was only two inches from him didn’t help. It was so silent that Alec could feel the blood rushing in his ears and just for a second, he forgot where he was.

Magnus leaned forward, almost teasing Alec, their lips almost brushing against each other’s and Alec felt his entire body warm up and tingle. He felt a burning sensation begin to grow at the base of his stomach. Magnus licked his lips and Alec lost it. He hastily leaned forwards to kiss him, to press himself up against him, to do anything but be so tantalisingly close because it was never close enough. But suddenly, almost as if on cue, Magnus jerked his head back and stood up, a smug smile on his face. Alec let out a frustrated sigh and let his head fall back onto the cold marble floor. Neither of them could stop smiling.

“Okay…” started Alec, after he had collected himself. “How good are you with a bow and arrow?”

Magnus shrugged nonchalantly. “I mean, I may o may not have introduced archery to the Romans…”

Alec laughed. “I’m gonna go with ‘may not’.”

Magnus scoffed playfully, feigning hurt. “You don’t know,” he argued and Alec shook his head.

Alec turned towards the weapons rack to retrieve his bow and quiver and set up a target at the opposite end of the room. He told Magnus to watch and shot an arrow perfectly into the centre of the bullseye. Magnus watched him rather intently and Alec felt hot again so he stopped at handed the bow to Magnus. “You try,” he said. He only felt a little smug.

Magnus walked up to where Alec had stood and before Alec could blink, had shot an arrow that stuck neatly into the target right beside where Alec’s arrow was. Alec chuckled and cocked an accusing eyebrow at his boyfriend. “No magic, I swear,” he said with a wink and Alec really didn’t know what to think.

Instead, he crossed his arms and took step closer. “Not bad, but your form was pretty sloppy.” It was Magnus’ turn to roll his eyes and mumble under his breath. Alec stepped up behind Magnus and again, it was Magnus’ turn to lose his breath.

“Okay,” Alec said softly. “Keep this arm as straight and steady as possible,” he said, touching Magnus’ bicep, and Magnus could help but contain a smile at his comment. “Turn a little this way,” he whispered. He placed his hands on Magnus’ shoulders to guide him and let his fingers linger there for longer than both of them knew was necessary. Magnus only smiled but Alec noticed. “Focus,” he insisted.

“I am focusing,” Magnus replied in a voice that made Alec want to drop everything.

“Legs further apart, good. Bring your elbow up higher, yep. Now shoot,” he instructed, taking a small step back. Magnus let go of the arrow and watched as it hit the outermost ring of the target. Magnus clenched his jaw and Alec smirked. “Not as easy as it looks, huh?” he whispered against Magnus’ cheek and Alec could feel Magnus shift as a shiver travelled down his spine.

“It’s almost like you want me to miss,” he said, shakily. Alec chuckled and Magnus stepped down from his stance, dropping the bow and arrow before turning around and hastily grabbing the front of Alec’s shirt.

Instead of the usual taken aback reaction that Magnus received, Alec leaned in further, melting into the slender line of Magnus’ body. Alec was loosing his breath quicker and quicker by the second so he gave in, grabbing Magnus by the belt loops and pulling him impossibly closer.

i hope you enjoyed, let me know what you think! if you have any prompts or scenarios for me, please head over to my ask box.

in the meantime, the scene between alec and aline that i wish we had gotten.

#malec #shadowhunters #malec fanfiction #malec fanfic #malec fic #malec fluff #drabble #oneshot #mine #alec lightwood #alexander lightwood #magnus bane #high warlock of brooklyn #matthew daddario #matt daddario #harry shum jr #headcanon

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eurusholmmes · 7 years

Text

Fantasy (III) | Leo Fitz

Well... I never actually expected to have to write another part to this but APPARENTLY ya’ll love Fitz as much as I do, so here’s the final part of Fantasy!

You can read Part One here

You can read Part Two here

I am open to writing for Fitz in any season. I’m working on separating the larger parts of my masterlist into different links to give it more room. If you have an request, leave it in my askbox!

Grief is painful. Anger is destructive. But jealousy? Deadly.

Coulson had come up with an ingenius plan and had brought Robbie Reyes in on it; the only person who had somehow succeeded in wounding the nearly indestructible Ophelia.

Your mind was solely focused on the task at hand when you felt a pair of piercing eyes settle on you, sending shivers down your spine. Instinctively raising your head you found yourself staring at Fitz, who seemed to be absorbed in himself as he gazed at you.

“My superhero science girlfriend.” He said quietly. “I think I can get used to saying that.”

“We get through this, and you can make it your superhero science wife.” You reassured, flashing your most encouraging smile as his eyes lit up. “And that’s a promise.”

Less then half a minute later, Ophelia teleported into the room with her rage solely focused on you. You were his weakness. You were the woman he’d left her for. “Ophelia, look at me!” Fitz demanded, drawing her attention away from you. You were still in your SHIELD uniform; cursing the portal that’d brought you back to the real world for taking your Patriot uniform away from you.. That could withstand the rage of a heartbroken woman out for blood. “Remember what we talked about before?”

“Oh, very much so.” She jeered, taking slow steps towards Fitz. “How there isn’t room in your heart for me?”

“No, that being human sometimes means-”

Being human is the most beautiful gift we could ever receive. We make mistakes, we fall, we break; but we always learn to pick ourselves up again. We love, we learn, we live.

“That there’s pain, and tears, and suffering? Yeah.. I’m catching onto that pretty quickly. Now I understand why humans have written so many sad songs.”

Your thoughts shifted to your brother as Fitz desperately attempted to talk down the woman in front of him. If Jeffery were still alive, he would’ve chewed you out for a solid hour for agreeing to Coulsons insane plan in the first place. He would’ve taken off his own armor and given it to you to ensure your safety. If Jeffery were still alive, you wouldn’t be staring into the face of the one person who wished you death more then anyone else.

And it was all because you fell in love.

“If you’re trying to terrify me with that look,” You gestured to the raging expression on her face with your hand. “It’s not working, but good try.”

“Okay Ophelia, look. I’ll go with you. Just don’t hurt y/n.”

Your expression grew deadly serious as you peered over her shoulder. “It’s AIDA.” You stated matter of factly. “A stands for Artificial remember-” Your breathing hitched when she took another step towards you, now close enough to wrap her fingers around your throat.

“Ophelia, you’re upset because this is all new!” Fitz exclaimed. “There’s lots of feelings. That must be overwhelming.”

AIDA stopped in her tracks and turned back around to face Leo. You unclenched your fists at your sides, the rush of adrenaline pounding in your ears as you waited. Be patient. It’s coming. “It is overwhelming! There are too many feelings and that’s why I’ve decided to only feel one of them.” You grabbed the nearest sharp object and poised it in your fingers, waiting for your moment to strike. “Vengeance. It’s hot and clean and sharp like a knife. And my vengeance is going to make you suffer.”

He’s suffered enough.

“The way that I-” In a blink of your eyes, AIDA had completely overpowered you and poised the sharp object against the fragile skin of your neck. You aren’t powerless, y/n. You can fight her. But when you noticed the immediate fear creep into Fitzs eyes, you knew it was best to submit. “have suffered.”

Your chest exploded with pain as you slightly slumped against AIDA, weapon now protruding from your chest. Somewhere in the distance you heard Fitz scream, but everything was foggy. Distant and colorless.

“Beg me to let her live!”

“I will do whatever you want. Please.. please just let y/n go.”

AIDA tilted her head and smiled down at you as you struggled to maintain your deep breathing. “This is making me feel better. Fitz, why do we feel better whenever we make someone else suffer?” Ophelia asked.

“Because there is something seriously wrong with you you psycho-” A shrill gasp broke past your lips as she dug the weapon deeper into your sternum. Fitz felt himself convulse at the blood gathering on your shirt but made no move to stop it; despite the fact that the guilt now weighed down harder on his shoulders.

“Stop stop stop! Please- just spare y/n.”

Superhero science wife. What a dork. “Oh, so it’s y/n now?” She asked in mock amazement. “Trying to humanize her, I’m afraid you’re going to have to do better then that.”

Your voice broke as you lifted your head just enough to lock your eyes with Fitz. “Fitz, please.” you pleaded. “I’m so scared - just make it stop.”

“The Darkhold! That’s the only way we can beat you!” He persisted. “Let y/n go and I’ll go get it for you.”

Black spots danced in your vision as Ophelia wrapped her hand around your neck, tongue darting out to lick at her lips venomously as she slowly began to suffocate you. “You-You did this, Fitz.” You rasped, gasping for air as it became so much harder to breathe.

It had never been easy to breathe around him.

“I know.” He confessed. “I’m so sorry y/n.” His voice broke off before Fitz swallowed and straightened his spine as best as he possibly could, desperate to drown out the sound of your sobbing. “Coulson’s reading the book. He’s firing up the gateway right now. C’mon, please.” He extended his hand outward. “Let me take you to it.”

Reluctance flashed across Ophelias face before she moved her hand to in front of you, volts of electricity electrocuting your entire body. Pain soared through your system as you violently convulsed in front of Fitz, powerless to stop it, unable to overcome it.

“I’ll see you on the other side y/n!”

“I think I’m falling love with you and I’m bloody terrified.”

“y/n! Y/n!!”

The next thing you knew, everything had gone black. The LMD collapsed and the power flickered down, and the chest stopped moving.

When you saw him again after AIDA’s destruction, Fitz was smiling so wide you were sure that it would be too big for his face. Your heart melted as he took you into his arms, burying his face deep in your neck as you let out a shuddering breath against his skin. “I’m going to take you up on that offer.” he whispered breathlessly. “Be my superhero science wife.”

Laughter rumbled against your chest as you nodded eagerly, leaning into Fitz touch as he cupped your face tenderly in his hands. “I-” You said among fits of laughter. “I would love to be your superhero science wife.”

#leo fitz #leopold fitz #AIDA #agents of shield imagines #agents of shield oneshots #the return #agents of shield season 4 #leo fitz x reader #Kayla Grace writes imagines

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yesthismessisaplace · 7 years

Photo

“The Dark Lord… you have no idea … he has weapons you can’t imagine …”

Having a pretty, little thing locked up in the left wing of the manor wasn’t necessarily new for Antonin Dolohov. Truth was, he often had a pretty, little thing kept away somewhere for one reason or another. Usually, it only served to entertain him. He grew dreadfully bored so quickly that having a play-mate ready and (occasionally) willing made sense. It kept him from having to go out and find one every time he got that particular itch. Sometimes, the pretty, little thing was there for a deeper purpose. The Dark Lord had need of information. Or another member of his army desired something. Or Antonin himself had reason to break a strong back, to slip inside a fortified mind, or to completely demolish a soul.

Peter Pettigrew was here for a purpose, but he’d turned out to be so, so much fun.

Finding the child in the prophecy was paramount, and now that it had been narrowed down to a handful of families, more intense measures had been taken. Antonin had been tasked with delving into Pettigrew’s mind, discovering what he might know, and exploiting it. Mind games were Antonin’s specialty, if he was being honest. Though he could curse and hex with the best of them, and though he had a knack for inventing his own spells to which only he knew the counters, torture of the mind was unequivocally his realm.

Perhaps that was due to his own mind being fractured and splintered, a dark thing that had shadowy nooks and sharp edges not meant to be traversed by others. He knew the cracks and fissures in his own mind, the way his insanity lingered behind the flimsy walls he erected, waiting to break through completely and destroy all semblance of normalcy he could hold onto; and so, when it came to breaking into and tearing down the minds of others, he could navigate with ease.

Maybe he just liked the feeling of complete and total domination.

After all, there wasn’t any deeper one man could get inside another man than being in his mind.

Whatever the reason, Antonin had not felt this satisfied in a very long time. Was it Peter himself? Antonin reclined back in his favored armchair near the fireplace, a hand wrapped around a cool glass of vodka, and let his mind wander. He didn’t think so. The boy was not overly special. He was smart, Antonin supposed, but not the smartest boy he’d ever kept. He was beautiful, of course, but not the most beautiful he’d ever taken, either. Though he did have the perfect mouth… Hm. He took another drink from his glass. Maybe it was the boy’s masochistic tendencies. They all came to enjoy what Antonin did to them, sooner or later. The mind had a wonderful mechanism for surviving the most awful of tortures. And yet, none of them relished it the way Peter did. Antonin could see it in his eyes. His beautiful, clear, bright, blue eyes…

It had been a couple weeks, give or take a few days, since he’d first found and taken the boy. It was a flimsy lead, at first, mostly because the link between this boy and the Potter family had seemed to be rather tenuous, but the further Antonin dove into Peter’s head, the more he discovered. And the more he hurt and caressed the boy, the more Peter was willing to offer.

Antonin finished his drink and pushed up from his chair. He’d left the boy in his room for hours on end today. Sometimes, a constant presence was necessary. Antonin knew how to be intimidating, how to make the room seem to shrink in his presence, and his endurance knew no bounds when he was deep in his work. Other times, he knew his little pets needed time alone to think about things Antonin had said, or to come to terms with something he had revealed about them, or to otherwise stew in their own thoughts. Peter hadn’t had this much time to himself yet, and Antonin was curious to see just how affected he would be by the time apart. Peter seemed to him to be the type that needed constant reassurance, a strong hand to lead him through the fog. Without it, how would he be faring? Knowing how close he was to betraying his friends, how stable would his mind be?

With a flick of his wrist, Antonin’s glass disappeared into the air, vanishing into the nothingness. His fingertips danced along the banister as he ascended the stairs. Perhaps some people would keep their prisoners in a dungeon at all times, chained up in the darkness and left to pure dismay, but Antonin didn’t think that was necessary. The best experiences were when you confused them, gave them good things, made them comfortable...and then ripped the proverbial rug out from underneath them. That was what Antonin liked to do, because the look in their eyes when they realized the monster you truly were was the most delicious thing in the world.

Antonin pushed the door open. No locks. They weren’t necessary. He’d devised his own spells around the house, protective spells that kept things in that were meant to stay in and made sure everything else stayed out. Besides that, Peter was more than incapable of getting himself out of the intricate knotting that Antonin had devised for him.

Hungrily, he let his eyes roam over the boy as he entered. His fingers trailed along one of the ropes, the tips of the digits brushing against Peter’s abdomen as he walked up beside him. The bed was covered in one sheet only, no pillow, no blankets. The room was cold, but not too cold. Antonin watched as Peter trembled at his touch, his eyes wide with fear and desperation. Was that a hint of need he saw? How delightful.

“Have you thought about what I said?” His thumb brushed over the boy’s hip, tracing an invisible wound there. He couldn’t see it, but Antonin knew precisely where all the marks were that he’d made on Peter’s body. He’d carefully picked each one. Peter twitched, a quiet moan sounding against the gag. “Shh, shh, shh.” Antonin gently cupped his face, his thumb now brushing over Peter’s lower lip. A snap from his other hand, and the gag disappeared. Dried tear tracks lined the boy’s cheeks.

He’d never looked so beautiful.

“Please,” Peter whispered, voice hoarse, probably from crying.

“Hm? Please what?”

Antonin’s hand slid down to the boy’s throat, fingers lightly wrapping around his neck. It wasn’t enough to choke him, but the boy flinched anyway. Muscle memory, perhaps. Or the bruises there. These were visible. Livid and purple in the shape of Antonin’s fingers. A shiver of possessive pride tripped down his spine at the sight. There was nothing like marking something that belonged to him. He might have taken Peter on the Dark Lord’s orders, to bend and break how he saw fit, but once Antonin got his fingers on something young and pretty like this, he couldn’t help but think that the boy belonged to him.

It was a problem.

“Please...let me…” Peter’s mouth pressed closed before he finished the sentence. A fresh wave of pride swelled up in Antonin’s chest. He was such a quick learner. The last time he’d asked Antonin to let him go, the night had not gone well for Peter. Not at all. Antonin’s rage had gotten so that he’d almost killed the boy on accident. And then, as if that had been Peter’s fault, too, Antonin had only punished him more.

“Oh, look at you,” Antonin cooed, fingers pushing up and through the boy’s hair. “You know, if you’re good for me, I might let you out for a while. Would you like that?” He tilted his head as Peter nodded emphatically, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks. “Perhaps we can go out for dinner, hm? And then, if you promise to behave, you can see your friends. With my supervision, of course. It wouldn’t be good for you to tell them about what we’ve done, would it?”

Peter shook his head. The tears were coming faster now, more earnestly in their path to his jaw. Antonin shushed him gently, removing the ropes with a touch of his finger and massaging the bruised flesh left behind, working blood back into the boy’s hands and feet.

“I need one more thing from you, though, before I can give you such a gift, moy mal’chik.” Antonin sat down beside Peter on the mattress, his left hand sliding his wand free from his slacks out of the boy’s eyesight. When Peter looked up at him, a question in his eyes, Antonin only smiled. “I need you to tell me where James and Lily Potter are hiding.”

Before the panic had a chance to set in, Antonin’s wand was pressed hard into Peter’s temple. With a twist of his wrist, pain exploded through the boy’s skull with frightening force. Like Antonin was drilling directly into his brain. Like he was reaching in with a clawed hand and pulling out his thoughts one by one. Maybe he should have been more careful, but Antonin was too excited to be careful. He was too hungry for this. So what if the boy suffered permanent damage of the mind? Who cared as long as Antonin got what he wanted first?

“Shh, shh. Hold still or I might...slip.” He twisted his wrist again, intensifying the curse ten-fold. Peter’s back arched up off the bed. His hands scrabbled futilely against the mattress. Antonin looked into his eyes, but it wasn’t the intense shade of blue that he was after. No, Antonin was diving deep beneath that color. He was going into Peter’s mind, trying to find the memories the boy had locked away.

When he found resistance, Antonin pushed harder. The palm of his wandless hand pressed down on the boy’s chest, intensifying the pain, the curse, the agony.

“Where are the Potters?” he asked again.

A river of fire. An ocean of knives. A thousand cuts along his skin. A needle in his brain.

Antonin pushed harder, digging deeper. He was a storm, set to ravage everything that had been Peter Pettigrew.

“Tell me, Peter, and I’ll make it stop.” He leaned further over him, watching the way his eyes rolled back in his head as his brain automatically reached for unconsciousness. But Antonin blocked it at every turn. “Tell me where they are, and I’ll make the pain go away.” He pushed down harder with his hand, nearly bruising the boy’s rib cage with force alone. “I’ll make it all go away.”

To his credit, the boy tried. Antonin watched that struggle from inside his mind. He watched as he pushed his lips together harder to keep silent. As he fought tooth and nail for that loyalty these fools could never understand. Not like Antonin did. He watched as Peter tried desperately to hold onto any ounce of resolve he could. But Antonin was skilled in this. He was capable of breaking even the strongest of wills, and Peter Pettigrew was nowhere near that.

When he next spoke, Antonin’s voice was cold, cruel, and empty. “Have it your way.” He closed his own eyes, reaching deep down inside himself for the darkness that had been carefully cultivated for years. A darkness that he’d been born with, but that the Dark Lord himself had seen and helped grow, caring for like a child and watching as it blossomed into a finely-tuned weapon. Antonin wielded that weapon with the precision of a soldier who’d spent a lifetime with it affixed to his palm. He held tightly to it, aiming for the center of all that goodness in Peter’s heart, the light in the middle of his chest that gave him what little, paltry strength he had.

With a grunt of exertion, Antonin drove that darkness straight into Peter’s core. He watched from within as it burst, shattering everything it touched and tainting the boy with its ichor. He watched as it coated every inch of him from the inside out, staining his pure heart with its very essence. And then, as if it were a physical thing, splintering inside of and clinging to Peter’s body,

the boy screamed.

#ad: drabble #drabble #ad: peter #tag later

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