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giorno-plays-piano · 3 years

Text

Vicious

Part VII

Pairing: Steve x reader, Bucky x reader, Thor x reader, Loki x reader, Peter x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, possessiveness, theft, mention of blackmail, all characters are adults.

Words: 1864.

Summary: Transferring to Stark Academy that has only allowed to take in female students last semester, you realize you are just one of three young women among hundreds of students. Your things are constantly being stolen, and soon you begin fearing for your safety.

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

________

You wanted to slap yourself. What the hell was wrong with you today? Why did you tell Peter that?!

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...” Completely baffled with you behavior, you were deeply ashamed, unable to look the guy in the eyes and wanting nothing but fall into the earth.

“Ah, I got it. It’s Steve, isn’t it?” All of a sudden, Peter let out an irritated sigh, rolling his eyes skywards and rubbing his neck. “Of course, who else would say such nonsense. Blackmail, really? Funny he didn’t call me a stalker or anything.”

“Listen, I didn’t mean it, I’m really-”

“It’s ok.” He closed the locker, slamming its door loudly and making you jump. “It’s not your fault. If I heard that from somebody, I’d be scared too.”

He spent a couple of seconds staring into the wall until he rubbed his neck again tiredly and huffed. It took him less than a minute to regain his composure, and you heard him murmuring, “What a freak.”

He didn't return to the corridor, heading to the sports hall for his PE class, instead moving to the bench in the locker room and motioning you to sit. Feeling terribly awkward, you hoped he wasn't going to do anything out of anger, even though he had every right to be upset at your stupid behavior.

"About what he said," Peter took a deep breath, "it's nothing like that. I don't dig up some nasty stuff in the web to blackmail people. I've never done it. The reason why Mr. I-am-better-than-you said that is because I've made him take me into his little bodyguard group when I heard him talking to Loki. You're nice, and I wanted to help. Of course, Steve started acting like I was some creep, so he refused, and I had to remind him that, technically, he had to report your issue to the administration, not play a hero. I said that if I go and tell the whole story to the dean, Steve's gonna be in trouble because he knew who thieves were and didn't report them."

It was a loud off your mind. Goodness. Rogers called this a blackmail? Really? Just because Peter pushed Steve into taking him into their group?

You were less and less sure Rogers was sane. You definitely had to be careful around him.

"I can't believe he called it a blackmail." You admitted quietly, and the guy sent you a tired smile. "Peter, I'm so, so sorry. It was so stupid of me."

"Nah, don't worry. I'd freak out too if I didn't know the whole story."

You knew your apologies weren't enough, but you hoped Peter didn't take it to heart - if you can take such an accusation easily, that is. Shit, shit, shit, why did you believe everything these guys were saying? You didn't even know them in the first place! Why on Earth did you go asking them their opinions on others if all of them were biased, and every guy could twist the truth the way he liked? You shouldn't have let their words affect you that much.

"Whatever. At least now you know what Rogers is like." Peter sent you a grim smile and got up, picking his bright yellow sackpack from the floor. "Shit, I gotta go if I don't wanna be late. Let's meet in a library later, alright?"

"O-of course." You hurriedly stood up and left the lockers room after him, turning to the library: your Lit class was cancelled, so you decided to go study right away. At this time, the library was usually full, and you felt safe there.

Your thoughts were all about the guys again even when you were staring at your laptop, trying to focus on Excel numbers. Why did you feel like the atmosphere between them was so dense? If they were at such terms with each other, why did they group together to help you? What, because all of them loved you so much? It was ridiculous. There was something else to it, and you didn't know. You had a feeling no one was going to tell you the truth until you figured it all out by yourself.

Weird. It was all so weird. Steve's plan, their behavior, the relationships between them, and your nagging feeling they all were hiding something. Was it them who were actually following you?

The thought scared you to the point you started shivering. Oh shit.

"Hi there," the guy appeared behind your back so suddenly you almost jumped, looking at him wide-eyed, "sorry, did I startle you?"

"H-hi Jake! No, it's ok, I was just... studying." Both of you were talking in hushed voices, knowing the librarian would kick you out immediately if she heard some noise. "How are you?"

"I'm great, how're you?" You could hear concern in his voice: he was one of Thor's friends you met yesterday, and although you spoke briefly, Thor definitely told him more about you. "You look a bit worried."

"Oh, it's Math, I didn't really understand the topic, and we're having an exam on Monday... guess I'll be studying the whole weekend." You gave him your best smile to reassure you were totally ok, and the guy relaxed a little, smiling at you, too.

"I'm sure you'll pass. Thor said you're very smart."

What, he said that to all of them? Was he simply boasting about his girlfriend to his friends or was there something more to it?

"You're too kind. Thank you."

His smile grew wider, and he landed on the next seat to yours, resting his hands on the table. Apparently, there was something he wanted to talk to you about, and you grew uneasy.

"Listen, about these incidents... Thor told us all about it, so if you see any freaks following you around, you can message any of us, and we'll come right away." Looking at his serious expression, his bushy brows furrowed, you hoped he eas being sincere with you: you had enough with people you could no longer trust. "And also... that kid, if he's giving you troubles or anything, just let me know, and I'll tell him to keep his hands to himself"

Oh, he was talking about Peter, wasn't he? He had probably seen that silly photo. Wow, you though, Peter was totally right about Instagram: it was the best news source in the academy.

Thanking him for his concern, you laughed a little, convincing him there was nothing serious except for the theft and promising to tell him if anything weird would be going on. While it should have made you feel safer, in fact, you only grew more frustrated with this situation. You wanted to forget about these freaks and just spend you day like any normal student would, but everywhere you went people were staring at you as if you had a horn; one boyfriend or the other was always close to protect you from some unknown danger, and although you believed they tried to help, you hated the feeling they were hiding something from you. Why did you have to be going through all this? Wasn't it really better to drop off school, spend a year working and then apply to a better place?

Thinking of the faces your parents would make once you returned home, you realized it wasn't. This school with all those creeps wasn't worse than home that never felt like a safe place you wanted to come back to. Besides, all money you saved up until now were only good for buying food and things like that: you'd never afford to rent a decent place unless you found a well-paid job. It meant staying with your parents, and it wouldn't be much better than here, just different. If you wanted to drop off, you had to find a good place to stay.

Well, you could at least try, right?

When Peter met you in the library, the two of you no longer talked about anything important, simply studying together to prepare for the exams next week. It didn't feel off: from time to time you met his gaze, and the both of you smiled. You were thankful he didn’t talk about Steve or other guys or that weirdo in the lockers room.

Once you returned home, you went straight to bed, completely exhausted. Luckily, you did much more than yesterday, so you could rest now, but then you thought of Thor kissing you and bit down the pillow, angry at yourself. Why did you keep thinking of him right now?

______________

When you woke up the next morning, you felt like something was off: your body ached, your throat hurt, and your headache was only making it worse. Dammit, you caught a cold, probably. And that’s when it was finally the day to meet Steve, the guy you thought was a mastermind behind all these manipulations that were making you sick to the core.

Anyway, it’s not like a mere cold would prevent you from doing everything you had planned. You left your bed and went to the bathroom, moving the dresser before again.

Honestly, it felt terrible. It was definitely because of that flimsy dress you wore to school yesterday when the weather was becoming chilly. Argh. Watching your puffy eyes and swollen nose, you sneezed. Today you had to apply way more makeup to look decently.

Steve showed up earlier than either Thor or Peter: you had to skip your breakfast, hoping to buy something cheap in the cafeteria.

“Good morning.” He said with his everyday polite expression that soon shifted into a concerned one. “Are you alright?”

What, was it that bad? You did your absolute best to apply enough makeup and do your hair. Did you still look so sick?

“Good morning. Yes, I’m ok, just feeling a little sleepy.” You yawned on purpose, covering your mouth with your hand, and Steve’s face softened.

“Did you study all night?”

“Yep, exams are driving me a little crazy.”

“I understand. I also stayed late last night.”

Of course, the student council president studying all days long to be number one student in the academy. If you didn’t know of his twisted nature, you’d think he was the most typical nerd.

You spent most of the time either in silence or talking about studies, the academy, and everything related to it. Steve acted like a gentleman and a scholar, albeit a little too demonstratively. Walking with you as if he were a king of the place, he constantly replied to greetings of others, waved to his acquaintances and smiled. You felt so off you wanted to find Loki and walk with him: unlike Steve, he was considered unpleasant by the prevailing majority of students.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” America golden boy asked you for the last time, and you forced yourself to smile.

“Of course. Thanks for coming, see you later, Steve.”

As he finally left you in peace, you almost fell down into your chair, your fever only getting worse despite the fact you took some painkillers. It was going to be a long day.

_________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherub @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @biiskuitx @stupendouslovegardener @iheartsebandchris @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @illyrianprincess @vampirestrawberries @goodgodimaweirdperson @frontmanash @freya-heya @yandematic @mariatietacapitu @d3monslust @maybesandohnos @ibeatuptwinks @mangobangi @nectav @whatever-happened-to-the-ducks

#bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #thor x reader #dark thor #loki x reader #dark loki #peter parker x reader #dark peter parker #yandere

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solaeter · 3 years

Text

Confession - Megumi Fushiguro

I’m dealing with a doubt spell so writing is kinda hard, but I’ll get past it sooner or later :’) Word Count: 1,670

Warning[s]: None aside from possible errors I didn’t bother to look for.

Mutual pining felt like a blessing and a curse. On one hand, feelings were shared without the worry of denial.

On the other hand..

Neither party could take the initiative to admit these said feelings.

Everyone and their mother could tell that [Name] and Megumi had some serious feelings for one another. You were the only one outside of Nobara and Itadori that he'd hang out with. Hell, he knew you longer than he knew them and tried his best to avoid having you meet them.

Cause as soon as it happened, the bombardment of questions rang through the air. Itadori and Nobara lingered dangerously close, inspecting you and Megumi.

"Since when does Fushiguro have a girlfriend?" Nobara questioned, squinting at you. Her gaze made you shift and her words had your cheeks burning.

"We're not–"

"Lemme guess," Itadori cut you off and Megumi sighs, "This little lady is the only one who can make the great Fushiguro crumble! Am I right??" He asked, knuckle bumping Nobara once they seen the obvious blush spread across your face and Megumi's.

Now you see why he tried to avoid this meeting, even after you questioned why. They were like pesky little rats, itching for information that wasn't their business. But you couldn't blame them, at least they cared.

"We're not dating. She's just a friend." Megumi mumbled, clearly irritated, if not embarrassed. Deep down he wanted to admit that you meant something more to him. God he loved you, but actually coming forth with that confession felt more difficult than any task he's been assigned to.

You on the other hand, also wanted to profess your long harbored feelings. Ever since you met Megumi in middle school, you always found him pretty. Especially when he beat up the bullies, goodness it made your heart flutter.

"What he said. We've been friends since middle school." You chirped, offering a smile to the two observers. Nobara crossed her arms. She's watched plenty of romantic dramas, comedies and all the works to know that you and Megumi were hard-core pining.

"I don't know," She starts, walking around the two of you, "There's something more. Something neither one of you can admit. Don't you agree dumbo?" She looked back at Itadori who blinked at the sudden nickname.

"Yes?" He tilted his head and when she shot him a look that meant death, he nodded quickly. "Yes! Absolutely! I think you two need to have a serious chat."

Megumi pinched the bridge of his nose. He could only handle so much of these two even though he knew they were right. You also knew what they said was right. But how? How can one admit feelings? Especially if it ruins the friendship? You'd be devastated.

But for now, you both needed an exit. You pull out your phone and glance at it. Maybe you had an idea.

"I left something back in my locker that I need for tonight. Wanna join me?" You elbow Megumi, who looks at you as if you were a saint. He nods, grabs your arm and drags you away while ignoring the two behind you.

"Sorry about those two, they're...something." Megumi decided to be polite instead of rude, after all they did care about him. You hook your arm through his and smile.

"It's fine, you three have interesting chemistry. I think they're good for you since I can't be around all the time." You didn't like that Megumi had to attend a school for his powers, but you were also happy for him. The selfish side of you wanted to keep him to yourself, just like it had been for years.

"You think so?"

"Yep, you just gotta open up a little when you're ready. Let them see what makes you so amazing." You gush and Megumi looks away, the praise causing his cheeks to tint with a shade of pink.

The two of you walk in peaceful silence, arm in arm until you both reach the school gates. Luckily they didn't lock up for another hour, but you didn't really need anything. Megumi wasn't stupid, he knew it was nothing more than an excuse, yet you made the trip here anyways.

"So.." You break the silence and separate from Megumi, who watched you move in front of him, your school bag hitting the ground with a thud. "Can we uh..talk about something?"

Megumi felt his stomach lurch and the contents of his lunch threatened to come up. Usually when someone wanted to talk, it could be good or bad. Considering his luck, Megumi only assumed it had to be bad. Yet he remained composed and simply nodded, choosing not to talk in case he faltered.

"I really don't know how to uh..bring this up." You fiddled with your hands, avoiding Megumi's worried gaze and kicked a random rock into the street. The looming silence that followed felt heavy and nearly made him lose his mind.

"Bring what up?" He urged quietly, crossing his arms just to keep himself busy for less than a second. His mind reeled and he didn't even consider the possibility of a confession, well at least from you. He's been trying to think of ways to bring it up without looking like an idiot, but he draws blanks after his head says he won't ever get out of the dreaded friend zone.

"Um..we've been friends for so long. I know everything about you and you about me. I just..after some time I think I might–"

You're cut off by Megumi grabbing your face, his hands were cool to your warm cheeks and his eyebrows were furrowed as he took a deep breath.

"I love you [Name]." He was straight to the point which threw you for a loop. Your mouth dropped and then closed quickly. The little shit took the words right from you. Granted you were prolonging the confession but you were getting there!

When you don't answer immediately, Megumi mumbles a quick apology and backs away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

"No, no don't confess and back away!" You pull him back toward you, hugging him once you two collide. His arms wrap instinctively around your figure, even though he was slightly hesitant. He felt like he was treading on glass while you were stupidly over the moon.

"You took the words right out of my mouth." You say shyly, resting your head against his chest. His heart quickly thumped in your ear, much like how yours did the same.

Megumi's world shifted or so he thought. All his fears towards his feelings vanished and it was like a weight lifted off his shoulders. You shared the same feelings and of course he should have seen it. Others called you both out, especially the two idiots who hounded earlier. Was he really that blind? Or stupidly oblivious?

Either way, he didn't know what to do now.

"So we felt the same all this time." Megumi says more to himself and you look up at him. When your eyes meet, he takes a moment to admire your pretty orbs. This was his first time being able to actually look at you without having to sneak glances or be called weird for staring. His cheeks warmed once again and you smiled.

"I guess so. Leave it to us to rely on your pesky friends to actually break the silence." You giggle, adjusting so that your arms wrap around Megumi's neck. He bends to match your height, coming face to face.

The air would usually turn awkward but this time, you both silently stare until you look away with a tiny smile tugging at your lips.

"What?" Megumi questioned. He didn't know the first thing about romance. Or even women for that matter. But he knew you, like a book. Except at this moment, he felt clueless. His mind ran in circles, leaving him a happy mess inside his head.

"Oh nothing." You bite the inside of your cheek. His gaze made you squirm and heat shift from your cheeks to your ears as well. Why did it feel so different?? Yet so welcome? "You're just really pretty okay? And I finally get to say it without being looked at funny." You pout, glancing at Megumi who blinks.

"I– So are you." He responds calmly despite every nerve in his body screaming. You turn your head back toward him and act before you can think by pressing your lips to his for a quick kiss.

Megumi freezes, eyes wide and alert when your soft lips meet his. Though he quickly closes his eyes and keeps you close by cupping your cheek. He didn't think, his body acted on its own and boy did it feel nice. He didn't think he'd ever experience something like this. Something so normal and innocent in his dangerous life.

When you both pull back, neither one of you can look at one another. Instead you pick up your school bag and drape it over your shoulder. Megumi rubs the back of his neck, fully prepared to face some type of scolding. But it never comes when you take his hand.

"Whenever you're not busy being a badass sorcerer, maybe we can go out or something?" You ask, lacing your fingers through his. Megumi looks down at your intertwined hands before glancing at you.

"Yeah." He didn't hesitate to answer and started to pull you toward the direction that led home. You hum delightfully and let him lead you without another word.

Did you imagine your confession would happen the way it did? You couldn't say, but you could admit to the hopeless daydreams of romantic scenarios playing out in the most cliché manner. You were swept off your feet by the marvelous, perfect man, yet none of those silly dreams stood a chance at how perfect everything played out with Megumi.

Even if it took two so called idiots to set it in motion.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen oneshot #jjk x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro imagine #megumi fushiguro oneshot

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annmarcus63 · 3 years

Text

GIVE US TO HIM

Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion

Warning: this might hurt a little

on ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/34157128

Grandma said once that to give away your raw score is forbidden.

"Your heart in it's full rawness, chaos, is a precious and dangerous thing. Never you should do something as giving it to someone else."

"But our ancestors used to do it. Look ma ¡look!" said Jaskier holding his story book on the air for grandma's tired eyes to see. A handsome knight was lying on the dry grass, dying from a wound on his stomach. He started calling for his love, an ancient fae with blond hair and fair skin. She fell upon the prairie from the charged clouds, with something shiny between her hands. The fae feed the wound with her raw core, her heart. The knight lived along side her, flying amongst the starry night, happily ever after. "This are just stories, Julian" said Grandma with contened anger in her dry voice. She took the book and close it on her thighs "Things were rarely like that. Knights and kings are more inclined to use our cores against us and other people. We can't recover from that loss" Julian look at the drawing on the coverbook, the fae was kneeled by a pond and the knight stood glorious in practically all the cover, leaving a very small space for the real hero, the one who save the life of the protagonist.

"Never give your raw core away. Stop reading these, THEY wrote this, Julian, you must be clever than her" said Grandma pointing at the beautiful fae. Julian nod, undesrtanding much more that he wanted to, and so little, so so little. Maybe that was the reason his family were hiding, they never express it in a literal way, that was the point really, but Julian notice anyway. The way, for example, of how they said their names and the rust taste that was left on the air after. It was common to hide their real names for fae, but you'd give that name knowing it's false, on the opposite when you say the false name thinking is the real one then another fae would know. Losing the self was something of a disease between the fae. Jaskier later knew that his parents have not choice but to lose themselves to save the lineage. Most fae really. Humans did that. Like they did to the elfes. Julian promise to never forget about the fae from his last storybook. He'll never forget about her sacrifice and the sacrifice of his people. But come on, after some years it was just naturally that, despite the wound on the history, a selfish creature he was and he forgot. He was raised as human, and he wanted to be a bard oh how he want it. And he did accomplish that, and a bloody good one that's for sure. Fae were extinct for all the world and that wasn't a cover, they're doomed to extinction sooner or later. It has been years since the last time Jaskier felt another fae being born. He is Jaskier troubadour, master of the seven liberal arts a mastermind amongst the crowds, a legend…an idiot most of the time basically.

What grandma failed to mention is that for a fae to be able to give their core away the recipient must be worthy at the eyes of the fae. Once this worthiness makes evident, that person would plant roots in the core itself, whether the fae want it or not. It's inevitable. Grandma should have said "be aware of where you place your heart. Hold it until you're fully sure of them" But well, it wouldn't have matter in the end. Jaskier have never being someone who follows advice, much less from his dead relative. It happened naturally, like breathing, eating and shitting. One moment he was standing next to Geralt under a pouring rain, the witcher kept looking for a missing girl on the edges of the woods, her parents place a bounty on the towns board, they couldn't offer payment in form of crowns but they're willing to let them sleep on the girl’s room. Jaskier became indignant, how a witcher is supposed to take a payless bounty? No, that is unacceptable. But despite the protesting bard and zero reward whatsoever Geralt went anyway, he look for a girl who surelly was already dead.

"I found her body near the cave by the pond. You can go for her by morning when it's safe. I'm sorry" after a minute of silence the parents with equal expression of cold sorrow release a heavy sigh charged with so much grief.

"What did it?" asked the father

"Nekkers. I got rid of the pack living there"

"Thank you, witcher. You and your bard can come in, i'm sure you're exhausted” Said the mother with great effort, like someone who can't breathe quite well.

Geralt rapidly added "No, I'm sure you and your husband need time to resign and mourn alone. My bard and i already had another place to stay" Eh, no they didn't.

"But...we don't have any crowns"

"I didn't do this for payment" And while the parents thanked infinitely to Geralt, Jaskier felt something wild and untamed surging from his chest. Reaching unabashed for the witcher with a big golden heart standing next to him, explaining to a mourning parents that he went to search for their lost daughter because he wanted to help. This new awareness of chaos, he knew what it was.

Chaos, core, raw.

And it had marked Geralt as his. We want him.

Give us to him. He's worthy.

He was doomed, so doomed from the very beginning since they encounter each other on Posada. Grandma tried to warn him of this. Oh grandma, you and i both know that I was never obedient or wise. So Jaskier let it happen, four years after knowing the witcher and his raw core already belong to him. But he didn't do it. He hold back despite the urgency on his chest because he wasn't sure it'll be welcome. Geralt was still trying to get rid of him in every town, sometimes Jaskier felt like a pet you don't want but you can't abandon it either. Surely there'd be a time in the future. And Jaskier wait and fell in love deeply with each passing year. And Geralt...well he was the same and also different in his own way, more at ease around him, softer maybe. Jaskier didn't need to be call a friend to felt like one to Geralt. They're friends, even if one part has being in denial for the past decade.

And then the djinn happened follow by the complicated affair with one Yennefer of Vandenberg. The curse caused the core to retreat afraid and wounded. He hurt us, he wished to hurt us. Jaskier argued with the voice that it wasn't his intention, he didn't even know he was the one with the wishes. In truth his heart shattered not for the wish but for the easiness in which the sorceress become someone important to Geralt, something to hold on to even if drowning. One decade and still Jaskier thinks he haven't reached that relationship level with his friend.

He doesn't want us

No.

"Uhmm?"

"What?"

"You said no"

"Oh, it's nothing" Geralt didn't ask again

But weak and in love he was, the raw core and him reached out again, with fully open arms for Geralt to pull. Jaskier long to belong to him, oh how he did.

Yennefer and her shining imbecile knight join the hunt and he was jealous because as soon as she appear the witcher was drooling as if she was all he needed to shut down the darkness inside.

Don't you know? inside me there's a full light waiting for you to hold

At the softness of the afternoon Jaskier found Geralt sitting on a rock lost, as usual, in though. But this time were different, he had failed three people, Borch's dead has left a wound that surely would scar badly. And the bard felt a deep sadness for his golden heart witcher. He's definitely blaming himself for the fall, for that narrow and insecure path alongside the mountain as if he was the one to build it.

Jaskier asked him to come with him to his home, to the coast, he yearn to be there with him and feel the sea wind on their faces while walking by a cliff near a quiet village that Geralt wouldn't mind to visit.

We want to be his.

Give us to him.

We can love him better.

But Geralt didn't want him, he wanted Yennefer.

He give himself to him anyway.

"Here" said Jaskier putting a hand on Geralt's thigh, surprise, instead of flinching away Geralt held Jaskier's hand and with most carefulness took what was inside the palm. A small glass vial, similar to the ones where he pours his potions. He held it on his gloved open hand. There was something inside, warm and inviting. White, almost yellow that make Geralt felt calm and safe.

"What's this?"

"A gift. It'd take care of you" Geralt frown at him, confused and uncertain of what it meant, but he took it with a barely there smile only for Jaskier to see.

He's a coward, he couldn't confessed him the reality of what it meant because he was terrified of being rejected, grandma said that a rejection is so devastating that it might kill him. And even at this point in their friendship Jaskier couldn't know for sure.

It's me. Take me, i'll protect and save you if needed to. Have me, please have me.

Geralt went that night at Yennefer's tent and Jaskier felt glad for not having told him the truth

"If life could give me a blessing it would be to take you off my hands"

No, no, not now.

They're doing fine.

And then very fast very suddenly Geralt reached for his breast pocket to held the vial of raw core on his fist and toss it unceremoniously to the hard soild.

The noise of shattered glass invaded Jaskier's ears before the heavy blankness surged from his chest to every corner of him.

“No, no, no” said he, giving a fumbling step towards the vial but deciding to turn around instead.

Away away away away.

He can't see me like this.

Something was tearing in fine lines caused by the trembling, an earthquake from his very bones that were fighting on maintaining their solid formation. Something inside was bawling with such and intensity that make his ears bleed.

Was this dying? let it be death for he can no longer take it. Does breathing always hurt this much? like if his lungs were filled with wool and the air only add heaviness on them. What was this? a beating heart, so afraid so betrayed, like a laugh from his ancestors. He wanted to throw up his intestines, they're on fire, but when he tried only saliva flood. He was not himself anymore, and to become whole was an impossibility that the pain was making sure off. Dirt get inside his mouth, his cheek on the ground was getting cut by rocks. A voice calling for him to react, to say something. But he no longer have a voice, he was death itself preparing for a long dream.

I’m sorry grandma.

I'm sorry, said to himself

and he remembered the blond fae on the cover book between grandma's hands, of how she give her life to save her love one, but who'd give their life for her?

who'd give their life for him?

He needed to sleep, right here on the mountain ground, to become whole again or at least half whole.

He begged for death instead.

#geraskier #geraskier fic #jaskier #the witcher #geralt of rivia #geralt x jaskier #fae au #fae jaskier #hurt jaskier #sorry for the cliffhanger

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loveislattes · 3 years

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Good Morning (Darkiplier/Reader) Fluffy Smut Drabble

Request: As a drabble, waking up sleepy and content next to your choice of either Dark or Infelix. Can just stay fluffy and adorable or they can be a little more, dirty ;)

Important: Reader is gender-neutral but is a vagina owner!

Warnings: Smut (obvi), pet names, light choking, power play, shadow tendril/tentacles, and no use of protection.

A/N: This was written quickly on my phone while at work so please excuse any errors. I was just excited to get something down on paper!

As always, if you would like to support me, I have a Ko-Fi (here) for donations and I usually have a few slots open for commissions (unless life gets in the way)!

Ever so slowly, the awake world began to invade your sleepy space as you rolled onto your side with a throaty groan. The alarm hadn't gone off yet so you knew it wasn't time to wake up, but you weren't brave enough to crack your eyelids and check those blaring red numbers to see just how long you had left.

As you were starting to fall back into a light slumber, your bed partner curled up around you with a deep groan. Goosebumps ran down your arms as the prickles of his short beard dragged across your bare shoulder.

"What time is it?"

Desire shot through your body at the sleepy rasp whispered right into your ear and you couldn't resist wiggling back against him in turn, whimpering as his straining cock pushed against your bare thighs.

"I haven't checked," you admitted softly, "Early though."

"Good."

The burn of his beard slowly gave way to soft lips and easy nibbles that trailed up your shoulder to the lobe of your ear. Sharp teeth pulled a heady gasp from your lips while his fingers drew your top thigh back over his, his dick slotting perfectly against your cunt.

"That means I have time to ravish you before the fools are demanding my attention," Dark purred huskily, "That is, if you're up to it, darling."

Wordlessly, you reached back and sunk your fingers into his shaggy locks, gently directing his mouth to your throat as you stretched your leg back further to offer him room.

"Always, my love," you murmured.

"Hmmm, that's my good pet," he rumbled lowly against your throat.

You were thankful for the late-night romp that left you both nude because it meant there was no barrier to impede his fingers from slipping between your thighs.

"Fuck!"

Every swirl of his fingertips pulled weak tremors from your form, clit still hypersensitive from the blessed tongue lashing he'd treated you to hours ago. When a rather rough convulsion made you yelp, he slowed his motions and brought his hand to your hip instead.

Before you could even question him, he said, "If this is going to be too much-"

"No! It's not that. I'm just really sensitive still. I want this. Maybe just avoid my clit for a while?"

He didn't respond other than a warm hum and immediately you knew he was reconsidering the whole ordeal. He did that a lot, got overprotective over silly things- even over himself. To help sway him back to the dark side, you hastily lifted your hips and wiggled so his head was pushing ever so slightly against your entrance.

His nails dug sharply into your skin as he unleashed a demonic growl.

"I want you, please," you begged softly.

"You're playing with danger, darling, but I suppose I shall humor you this once."

He snapped his hips forward without hesitation and buried his cock as far as possible with that first thrust, and in that same motion, his idle hand came to encircle your throat.

At that moment, it felt like you had shattered into a million delicious pieces. Your mind instantly shifted into that carefully crafted space that was reserved for Dark, and Dark only, as he invaded every inch of your body. Having had him again after many loving, arduous rounds a few hours ago... it was like you'd never stopped in the first place.

"Look at you," he grunted softly, "My perfect little pet, still so wet and ready for me, taking me so perfectly."

"A-Always, Dark, always ready!" You gasped out between breaths.

Your blood pumped heavily in your head as he tightened his fingers and quickened his thrusts. The slap of skin on skin synchronized almost perfectly with every thump of your heart and momentarily you wondered if he could hear your heart race to time it so perfectly.

Aching to touch him, you snagged his wrist tight and ran your thumb back and forth over the top of his hand, mumbling frantic "I love you"s as he hastily pushed you toward the end.

"And I you, my love."

He suddenly withdrew his hold on your throat, fingers dancing down your curves until they came to rest just below your navel.

"May I touch you now?" He purred sweetly.

"Fuck, Dark, yes!"

His nails left a stinging trail down your stomach and over your mound, making you clench hard down on him before gracing you with a sweet burst of pleasure.

"Fu-uh-ck," he hissed sharply.

Before you knew what was happening, you were facedown. Dark manhandled you onto your knees, hips high in the arm and back arched low, giving him the perfect leverage to thrust back in without pause.

As if planned by the universe, there was a knock at the door the moment he started to speak.

"Hey-"

"If you do not disappear within the next two seconds, I will spend the next millennia eviscerating you from the inside out, over and over until I tire of seeing your entrails at my feet. Am I clear?!"

Your cheeks reddened in mortification as your body reacted undeniably to power and rage in his voice, hips pushing back into his, needing more of his touch.

You felt as if bruises would form instantly as his hands took place harshly on your hips, jerking you back again as he thrust in with a snarl.

"You like that, do you?" He sneered darkly, "Is it knowing that I would kill to remain in you for just a second longer, hmm? Or maybe… just maybe, it's the knowledge that if I didn't love you so, I could easily do the same to you?"

An uncontrollable whine escaped as you buried your face in the pillows, but suddenly his hand was around the back of your neck, jerking your head up almost painfully.

"Tell me, darling, am I right?" He asked, voice shaking with the strength of each thrust of his hips.

You found words to be nearly impossible as he fucked you rough and frantic, the taste of your orgasm teasing at the edges of fruition.

"Yes, yes, oh fuck- yesss!"

He released his hold only to shove your face back into the pillows, head aside to allow you just enough room to breathe, with a death grip on the nape of your neck to pin you in place.

"Come for me then. Let me feel what my power does to you."

The sound of the headboard slamming into the wall thundered through the room, rivaled only by the tortured cries and moans pouring from your lips. And then you felt that familiar coil of cool energy between your thighs. If you could look, you knew you'd find one of those dangerous black shadows wrapped around your hip, dipping just below your belly, and the thought alone made you tighten. You knew he would never hurt you, but you'd also seen the pain and horror his powers could amass.

His name became a jumbled prayer on your lips as you shuddered under him. Every thrust of his cock, every brush of that life-stealing tendril, it coalesced into a mighty and fierce wave that stole your breath.

Tears smeared messily between your face and the pillow as your pleasure erupted with finality. You couldn't help but release a sob of utter devastation at the bliss wrecking your nerves, core clenching painfully tight around him as if trying to keep him in and never let him go.

"Oh fuck- that's it, pet," he snarled brokenly, "Like a fucking vice- agh!"

The sensation of his cock throbbing and emptying hot into your cunt sent you over another little wave, tearing a distraught moan from deep in your chest.

It was overwhelming in the best of ways.

As if knowing your turmoil, Dark released all holds on your body and gently brought you both onto your sides- oh so similar to the way you had started.

Despite panting for breath like you'd just run a marathon, you couldn't help the goofy smile that curved up your lips.

"If there weren't so much to be done, I'd cancel it all just to lay here and see that beautiful expression on your face, darling. You are absolute perfection," he murmured, planting a great kiss on your cheek, "But alas, I have some… unfortunates to lead."

#dark/reader #fanfiction #smut #fluff #morning loving #power play #pet names #light choking #no beta we die like the plebs we are

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going-dead · 3 years

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Phasmophobia

Danny was very sick of tourists coming to explore Amity park. Like very sick of them, especially the ‘ghost hunter’ ones. In the end they just caused more problems than the actual ghosts, getting in the way of the fights causing Danny more stress and injuries than normal. Not to mention they sucked at their so called jobs. He was pretty sure even a single elementary schooler of Amity was a better ghost fighter than all of the tourists combined.

But at the moment it was the dead of winter and probably one of the coldest weeks of the year. So only the stupidest of self proclaimed ghost hunters would venture out to hunt ghosts in weather like this. While it was nice not having to worry about danger prone tourists Danny still was miserable, he could deal with the cold just fine in fact he preferred the cold. The problem was that It was the holiday season, the worst time of the year. At least the ghost attacks were less frequent as they all prepared for the Christmas truce party.

Still he supposed it could be worse. His parents weren’t fighting as much this year, though that was probably due to the fact they were still treating him like he was made of glass half of the time after he told them about the whole half dead thing. Danny figured that was due to the fact they blamed themselves for the portal incident, causing them to coddle him to an almost tortuous degree. It was as if they expected him to disappear if he was so much as bumped in the wrong way. It had gotten a bit better at this point at least, if things continued as it did at the beginning Danny was pretty sure he’d rather have them still be shooting at him. Now they only tensed up when he left the house instead of not so subtly stalking him all day.

At the moment Danny was sitting on the counter in the kitchen with his mom while she was cooking dinner. “Danny dear get off the counter that’s where the food goes not you.” Maddie said shooing him off the counter with a spatula.

Danny floated off in a huff, “This is ghostphobic mom. The counter is a perfect seat.”

Maddie rolled her eyes, “The term would be phasmophobic, and no it’s not it’s; I don’t want your butt all over where I’m making our dinner-phobic.”

“Fine transphobic then.”

“How about asking you to set the table? What would that be?”

Danny mulled it over for a few seconds. “A reasonable request I suppose.” He phased his hands though the cabinets grabbing the plates. Honestly he could have just as easily grabbed them normally but he was still trying to get his parents used to him having powers. “Oh by the way Sam, Tucker, and I are hanging out tomorrow to celebrate winter break starting and school being out for two whole weeks.” “Alright sweetie, but be safe okay?”

“Of course I will be mom.”

“I mean it Danny, please.”

Danny sighed “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to text you regularly to let you know I’m safe. I’ll be fine and stay out of trouble, I promise” Maddie nodded seemingly plated at least for the time being.

The next day Danny was really regretting making that promise. The day started out so well too. Danny, Sam, and Tucker were walking along the park trail. Danny was walking a few steps in front of the other two, subtly making the path easier with his powers. The only people out insane enough to bear the cold were people who had to go to work and teens who were bored out of their minds.

“All I’m saying Danny is that if you want to choose that class you should choose a race other than human for once. Hellspawn would be the best option in your case.” Tucker argued.

“Says the dude playing the race for furries.” Danny shot back turning his head to look back at his friend.

“Hey! The beastmen race is a perfect fit for my class, they have an exp boost for trickery and magic skills it’s the best for playing a character who mains in ambushing with traps.

“Boys boys stop arguing. Danny will be fine playing as a human he’s just gonna have to spend more time grinding. Also he’s right, beastmen are so the furry option.” Sam cut in.

“Whatever, I just don’t understand why he always plays the most boring race in every game he plays. I mean why would you want to play as a human when you could be a fantasy race like an elf or something.”

“Well that’s easy for you and Sam to say you both are still hum-,” Danny was cut off mid sentence by his ghost sense and a glowing red circle surrounding the group. He hardly had a chance to go ghost before being fully enveloped by the light.

When Danny was finally oriented enough to open his eyes he vowed to never complain about getting motion sick while his dad was driving again if it meant he would never have to go through that awful experience again. It felt like getting sucked into the Fenton Thermos if it was the size of a straw and being spun in a blender all at the same time. He looked around seeing if his friends were brought along with him. And just his luck, of course they got pulled through whatever the hell that was too.

“Ugh, you guys okay?” He closed his eyes again and focused on stabilizing his core and getting the last of the nausea to leave.

“Bleh I think I’m gonna hurl.” Sam groaned from beside him.

Danny heard Tucker shift beside him. “Yeah I’m good, I guess all that time staying up late playing VR games kinda helped against motion sickness. Landed on my arm though so definitely going to bruise later. Where are we anyway?”

That actually was a good question, Danny lifted himself off the ground literally, using legs to stand was lame anyway. The sight he was met with was both confusing and surprising. Looking down he saw that the three of them were in some sort of red magic circle or something, with candles lit around it. Looking past that was the part that was surprising. He was expecting this to be the work of a ghost but standing in a circle around the three of them were six humans in different colored robes. He couldn’t recognize any of them though, they must have been from out of town or just total shut ins. He was pretty sure he recognized where they were though, it was the basement of an abandoned building next to the mall, Sam was super into urban exploring the year before and it was one of the first places she dragged the two boys to.

“Haha uhh hey didn’t know there was a costume party going on, I would have dressed up, looks like you got all the colored robe thing going on though. Would my hazmat suit work instead of a robe?” Danny looked at the group around him and cracked an uneasy smile. Maybe it was some sort of accidental ghost summoning or something, it wouldn’t be the first time. Though the fact it brought his friends along pointed to it either being on purpose or something much more powerful, or both.

The man in the black robe turned to a woman in a white one. “Why did the spell bring two kids along with it .”

Danny tried to ignore being called an ‘it’ not like his parents didn’t do it before they knew about his identity. “I’m not the murder clown and I do have a name you know.” But his words seemed to fall onto deaf ears.

“I did the calculations right if that’s what you’re trying to imply, as you can see the subject did appear in the circle as planned. We probably just underestimated how much power the sacrifice would provide with the addition of the solstice.” White robe snapped. Great, this was totally just what Danny needed at the start of his winter break. Not only did they seem like ghost hunters they were the crazy obsessed culty ones.

“Either way the goal was achieved in the end, we have the ghost boy.” Black robe pointed to two men, one in yellow and one in blue robes. “Take care of the two bystanders, but don’t kill them. After all we shouldn’t kill our soon to be followers.” Yeah that wasn’t concerning at all Danny thought.

The one in the yellow grabbed Sam and the one in the blue grabbed Tucker at the black robed man's command. Danny assumed that probably meant the black robed one was the one in charge here. “Hey! Get your hands off me you freaks!” Sam yelled, struggling against the man’s grip.

But Danny’s friends didn’t have a chance against people twice their size. Before either of them could struggle more the two men slammed their heads to the ground in almost unison, knocking them out almost instantly. It happened so fast all Danny would do is watch on in horror. He felt like he watched their now limp bodies for ages, their chests shallowly rising at least giving him the relief of knowing they were still alive. But the sight of small puddles of blood forming around their heads snapped him out of his horror and into a rage.

Danny placed his feet to the ground turning to look at the two in the black and white robes. “Why?” He seethed, “You said they were accidentally brought along when you were trying to get me here. Technically in a way this falls onto me. So tell me, why?”

The man in the black robe seemed taken aback from being confronted so suddenly. The woman in white didn’t seem to have the same problem, maybe they both were in charge? Honestly though Danny didn’t care at this point. “We will take over the little town you haunt. After we do that we will find out where all the ghosts are originating from and then make them into our soldiers so we can take over the country and then the world. To do that we obviously needed you out of the way since you seem to be the only one capable of combating the other ghosts that come into this world. Or you would just defeat our pawns before they could take true action. So we found a way to summon and trap ghosts, then brought you here so we could get you out of our way.”

Honestly Danny was disappointed hearing that more than anything, his rage almost completely disappeared after hearing the plan. “Hold up that is the stupidest plan I have ever heard.” And that was saying something seeing as he dealt with Vlad's plans on a weekly basis. “First off you do realize it would be very hard to get or even force ghosts into your service if you don’t offer them, anything in return. Not to mention how some ghosts have almost godlike powers and you expect to overpower them? Also I am not even close to the only one who can fight ghosts. Everyone in Amity Park has at least some know how when it comes to ghost fighting. They sell basic ghost protection equipment at the supermarket. I just happen to be better suited than everyone else because I y’know can like fly and go intangible when chasing them. Using ghosts to take over the world is so stupid do you even know how to properly catch a ghost? Seriously this is like next level dumb, not to mention how did you even know the summoning would work if it didn't you’d just all be standing in a darkly lit room looking dumber than you already do.”

That seemed to anger the white one a lot. Apparently she didn’t like her intelligence questioned. “Why you little-.” She stomped her foot. “This plan was thought through down to the smallest detail. You want to know how it worked huh? How about asking your friend over there. I wonder what happens when the dead are killed? You will find out soon enough.”

Danny looked over to where we gestured and his refound taunting attitude vanished. Laying over in the corner inside a smaller less complex looking circle was a ghost or the ectoplasmic remains of one at least, the core was completely destroyed. Judging by the fact that the ectoplasm was red it probably had a fire core before it was destroyed. From the lingering ecto signature Danny doubted the ghost was even sapient. It was most likely the remains of something like a blob ghost or the ghost of an animal or even a weaker ectopus. Still all he could do was stare at the remains in horror.

“Of course summoning you was harder so we used that thing for its ghost energy to help power the circle. Instead of chalk we used it’s ectoplasm to ensure the strength and longevity of the seal to hold you in the circle.” The woman smiled as if she achieved something great. Achieve something she did indeed, but it certainly was not what she intended.

The rage Danny felt before came back in full force. Before with his friends he at least knew they would recover, all three of them got injured fighting ghosts more often than they should. But to injure a ghost to the point where not even their core remained was something so taboo that only the most despicable ghosts would do. Even Skulker kept the cores of his prey stable enough not to fade away completely. A ghost's form could be completely destroyed but as long as their core remained they would reform back where they first formed in the Ghost Zone. The only ghosts Danny could think of who would go out of their way to destroy a core were some of the ancients like Pariah Dark or Nocturne.

Danny finally managed to tear his eyes away from the ghost's remains to lock eyes with the woman. She and the black robed man took a step back out of instinct. Looking into his eyes they felt the feeling every animal of prey felt when it knew it was being watched, being hunted. The temperature in the room dropped and frost started to crawl across the walls. Danny took a step towards the two leaders before pausing to reconsider and turning and starting towards the two men standing above his friends.

Then men in yellow and blue robes looked to the man in black for guidance, unsure of what action to take. He looked uncertain as well but shook his head. “There’s no way it can pass through the seal, we tested it.”

Danny's eyes flicked over to the man then back to the two who hurt his friends and gave them a predatory grin, his teeth now looking slightly sharper than usual. He made no sound as he stepped over the circle with ease closer and closer to the two men. They both reached for their weapons, small bats, apparently they were the muscle of the group, and swung at the approaching ghost. Danny simply went intangible causing the two to overswing and hit each other instead, knocking the wind out of them both and causing them to drop their bats. While they were catching their breath Danny grabbed them by their hair and knocked their heads together. Their bodies crumbled to the floor just a few inches from the teens they did the same to just minutes before.

The one who had yet to say or do anything, dressed in red, made her way towards Danny while his back was towards her. Just as she got within arms reach of him she slipped and fell. The temperature had dropped even more at this point causing the ground surrounding Danny to ice over. Danny hardly acknowledged the large thud behind him simply trapping the fallen woman up to her neck in ice as he walked past and headed towards his final two targets.

When first summoned by the group Danny could, within reason, probably be passed off as a weirdish looking human excluding the glow around him. But now as he stalked towards his prey that was no longer the case. His chest no longer moved like it was breathing. His feet made no sound as they made contact with the ground. His eyes, non-blinking, no longer had pupils or even whites to them just a void of endless ectoplasmic green. His ears were pointed almost bat like. The tips of which, along with his lips, were tinted blue. His hair, normally white like snow, now was just the white that came from complete absence of any color. The hair was defying gravity almost as if it was underwater while smoke like wisps trailed off from his hair as he moved. His mouth was twisted into an emotionless smile splitting through his cheeks showing needle like teeth all the way back to where his molars would have been, there was no tongue or throat behind them, just another endless green void. The skin of his neck that was showing past the hazmat suit was marked with lightning like scars. The glow around him seemed to absorb all the light in the room.

The man in the black robe looked between the approaching horror and his partner before running towards the exit. Danny moved so fast it was almost as if he materialized right in front of the man. The man stumbled back falling down in shock but still tried to scramble away from him crossing his chest as he did so. Just as Danny started to raise his arm towards the man he paused and lurched back.

He looked down at his chest where an ornate knife was now lodged. Holding onto the hilt was the woman, she gave the knife a final twist before letting go and herding her partner into the corner farthest away from Danny. Danny showed no pain as he grabbed the knife and pulled it out, the blade was dripping with ectoplasm, and dropped it on the ground. The wound in his chest already healing, filling with more ectoplasm to replace what was lost.

The smile that was marring Danny’s face was replaced with a scowl as he made his way towards the corner where the two were cowering. Placing a hand on their necks he lifted them both up against the wall and started slowly burning their skin with an ectoblast. He let them go, letting them fall to the ground only when their screams of pain turned silent as crushed vocal cords and burnt throat muscles took their toll. Both cult leaders looked up at him in horror faces pale. "What's wrong?" Danny smiled, "It looks like you've seen a ghost."

The woman looked at him in fear as she grasped at the raw skin of her throat, which now was covered in blisters and charred in some of the worst places. “Wha-, what, what are you?” She managed to rasp out before coughing up some blood.

Danny let out a dark chuckle, his voice echoed over itself. “I-,” he snarled, “am a Phantom .”

After Danny sent an anonymous tip to the police about the cult, he brought his friends back to his house. Of course his mom freaked out after he stopped responding to her texts and even more when he phased into the living room with an unconscious Sam and Tucker. He was pretty sure she was about to break out the BOOmerang if she didn’t hear from him for much longer. She was more than willing to take the two of them to the hospital to get them checked out.

Danny made a quick stop into the ghost zone to tell Clockwork to spread the word to other ghosts to be on alert and that there were humans that were trying to summon and capture ghosts. After telling Clockwork what happened, in much more detail than the briefest summary he gave his mom, including how he probably went a bit overboard with dealing with the cultists. He also admitted he didn't regret it even if he did go overboard. They hurt his friends and caused a ghost to completely fade, and in Danny’s opinion they deserve whatever came to them. The whole story caused Clockwork to also start fretting over him making sure to let Danny know that his reaction was a completely normal response to someone threatening something that falls within his obsession especially since it happened in his haunt of all places. Danny swore that his ghostly mentor could be worse than his own parents sometimes especially when it came to reassuring him about his more ghostly tendencies.

Luckily after being released from the hospital it turned out the worst Sam and Tucker suffered were concussions that would heal in a decently short amount of time. That didn’t mean they weren’t complaining about it though.

“Stop laughing about my suffering Danny! I won’t be able to start playing Fantasy War Online VII until my two week tech restriction is lifted by my doctor. It was bad enough I had to go to a hospital but to be taken away from my lovely devices as well is just too much.” Tucker lamented.

“Quit complaining and suck it up. I’m on the restriction too Tucker.” Sam pointed out.

Tucker huffed. “Yeah well you’ll probably manage to catch up to all the people who are getting it on release day easily, since you’re scarily good at MMO’s.” He flopped back onto Danny’s bed. “Hey at least this gives us more time to convince Danny to play something other than a human for once in his life. Like I said before the hellspawn is the perfect race for the build you’re going for.”

Danny just rolled his eyes. “And like I said before, I like being a human.” “Whatever dude just don’t complain when I utterly beat you if we end up fighting because you wanted to be the lamest most boring race ever.”

Danny shrugged. “Somehow I’ll cope, I just think it’s nice to be seen as normal and not scary.”

Sam laughed. “Danny you are the least scary person like to ever exist. The only things scary about you are your grades and your wacky parents. I doubt you could be scary if you tried.”

Danny looked out the window watching the stars as they started to appear in the sky. “...Yeah I guess you’re right.”

#guess who back with the phics #danny phantom #phic #My fic #my phic

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brawltogethernow · 4 years

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So, I don't think I've ever asked you this... what IS the whole point of the Spider-Sense? It really seems like something that only exists for writers to ignore or work around when they want to inject Legit Tension into a story.

I’ve thought about this power so much, but never with an eye to defend its right to exist, so I needed to think about this. The results could be more concise.

Ironically, given the question, I have to say its main purpose is to ramp up tension. But it’s also a highly variable multitool that a skilled creative team can use for...pretty much anything. It does everything the writer wants it to, while for its wielder always falls just short of doing enough.

I went looking through my photos for a really generic, classic-looking example to use as an image to head this topic, but then I ran into the time Peter absolutely did not reimburse this man for his stolen McDonald’s, so have that instead.

A Scare Chord, But You Can Draw It

That one post that says the spider-sense is just super-anxiety isn’t, like, wrong. It’s a very anxious, dramatic storytelling tool originally designed for a very anxious, dramatic protagonist. I find it speaks to the overall tone of the franchise that some characters are functionally psychics, but with a psychic ability that only points out problems.

Spidey sense pinging? There’s danger, be stressed! Broken? Now the lead won’t even KNOW when there’s a problem, scary! Single character is immune to it? That’s an invisible knife in the dark oh my god what the fuck what the fU--

Like its counterpart in garden variety anxiety, the only time the spider-sense reduces tension is in the middle of a crisis. But in the wish fulfillmenty way that you want in an adventure story to justify exaggerated action sequences, the same way enhanced strength or durability does. Also like those, it would theoretically make someone much safer to have it, but it exists in the story to let your character navigate into and weather more dangerous situations.

For its basic role in a story, a danger sense is a snappy way to rile up both the reader and the protagonist that doesn’t offer much information beyond that it’s time to sit smart because shit is about to go down.

Spidey comic canon is all over the board in quality and genre, and it started needing to subvert its formulas before the creators got a handle on what those formulas even were, and basically no one has read anything approaching most of it at this point, so for consistent examples of a really bare bones use of this power in storytelling, I’d point to the property that’s done the best job yet of boiling down the mechanics of Spider-Man to their absolute most basic essentials for adaptation to a compelling monster of the week TV series.

Or as you probably know it, Danny Phantom. DON’T BOO, I’M RIGHT.

DP is Spider-Man with about 2/3 of the serial numbers filed off and no death (ironically), and Danny’s ghost sense is the most proof in the formula example of what the spidey sense is for: It’s a big sign held up for the viewer that says, “Something is wrong! Pay attention!” Effectively a visual scare chord. It’s about That Drama. And it works, which won it a consistent place in the show’s formula. We’re talking several times an episode here.

So why does it work?

It’s a little counterintuitive, but it’s strong storytelling to tell your audience that something bad is going to happen before it does. A vague, punchy spoiler transforms the ignorant calm before a conflict into a tense moment of anticipation. ...And it makes sure people don’t fail to absorb the beginning of said conflict because they weren’t prepared to shift gears when the scene did. Shock is a valuable tool, too, but treating it like a staple is how you burn out your audience instead of keeping them engaged. Not to go after an easy target, but you need to know how to manage your audience’s alarm if you don’t want to end up like Game of Thrones.

The limits of the spider-sense also keep you on your toes when handled by a smart writer. It tells Peter (everyone’s is a little different, so I’m going to cite the og) about threats to his person, but it doesn’t elaborate with any details when it’s not already obvious why, what kind, and from what. And it doesn’t warn him about anything else-- Which is a pretty critical gap when you zoom out and look at his hero career’s successes and failures and conclude that it’s definitely why he’s lived as long as he has acting the way he does, but was useless as he failed to save a string of people he’d have much rather had live on than him.

(Any long-running superhero mythos has these incidents, but with Peter they’re important to the core themes.)

And since this power is by plot for plot (or because it’s roughly agreed it only really blares about threats that check at least two boxes of being major, immediate, or physical), it always kicks in enough to register when the danger is bearing down...when it’s too late to actually do anything about it if “anything” is a more complex action than “dodge”.

Really? Not until the elevator doors started to open?

That Distinctive, Crunchy Spider Flavor

The spider-sense and its little pen squiggles go hand in hand with wallcrawling (and its unique and instantly identifiable associated body language) to make the Spider-Person powerset enduringly iconic and elevate characters with it from being generic mid-level super-bricks. Visually, but also in how it shapes the story.

I said it can share a narrative role with super strength. But when you end a fight and go home, super strength continues to make your character feel powerful, probably safer than they’d be otherwise, maybe dangerous.

The spider-sense just keeps blaring, “Something’s wrong! Something’s wrong! God, why aren’t you doing something about this!?”

Pretty morose thing to live with, for a safety net! Kind of a double edged sword you have there! Could be constantly being hyperattuned to problems would prime you for a negative outlook on life. Kind of seems like a power that would make it impossible for a moral person to take a day off, leading them into a beleaguered and resentful yet dutiful attitude about the whole superhero gig! Might build up to some of the core traits of this mythos, maybe! Might lead to a lot of fifteen minute retirement stories, or something. Might even be a built in ‘great responsibility’ alarm that gets you a main character who as a rule is not going to stop fighting until he physically cannot fight anymore.

Certainly not apropos of anything, just throwing this short lived barely-a-joke tagline up for fun.

One of my personal favorite things about stories with superpowers is keeping in mind how they cause the people who have them to act in unusual ways outside of fights, so when you tell me that these people have an entire extra sense that tells them when the gas in their house is leaking through a barely useful hot/cold warning system that never turns off, I’m like, eyes emojis, popcorn out, notebook open, listening intently, spectacles on, the whole deal.

It also contributes to Peter Parker’s personality in a way I really enjoy: It allows him to act like an irrational maniac. When you know exactly when a situation becomes dangerous and how much, normal levels of caution go out the window and absolutely nothing you do makes sense from an exterior standpoint anymore. That’s the good shit. I would like to see more exploration of how the non-Parker characters experiencing the world in this incredibly altered way bounce in response.

It’s also one of many tools in this franchise hauling the reader into relating more closely with the main character. The backbone of classic Spidey is probably being in on secrets only Peter and the reader know which completely reframe how one views the situation on the page. It’s just a big irony mine for the whole first decade. A convenient way to inform the reader and the lead that something is bad news that’s not perceivable to any other characters is youth-with-a-big-exciting-secret catnip.

Another point for tension, there, in that being aware of danger is not synonymous with being able to act on it. If there’s no visible reason for you to be acting strange, well...you’re just going to have to sit tight and sweat, aren’t you? Some gratuitous head wiggles never hurt when setting up that type of conflict.

Have I mentioned that they look cool? Simultaneously punchy and distinctive, with a respectable amount of leeway for artists to get creative with and still coming up with something easily recognizable? And pretty easy to intuit the meaning of even without the long-winded explanations common in the days when people wrote comics with the intent that someone could come in cold on any random issue and follow along okay, I think, although the mechanic has been deeply ingrained in popular culture for so long that I can’t really say for sure.

It was also useful back in the day when no artists drew the eyes on the Spider-Man mask as emoting and were conveying the lead’s expressions entirely through body language and panel composition. If you wiggle enough squiggles, you don’t need eyebrows.

Take This Handwave and Never Ask Me a Logistical Question Again

This ability patches plot holes faster than people can pick them open AND it can act as an excuse to get any plot rolling you can think of if paired with one meddling protagonist who doesn’t know how to mind their own business. Buy it now for only $19.99 (in four installments; that’s four installments of $19.99).

Why can a teenager win a six on one fight against other superhumans? Well, the spider-sense is the ultimate edge in combat, duh.

Why can Peter websling? Why doesn’t everyone websling? Well, the spider-sense is keeping him from eating flagpole when he violently flings himself across New York in a way neither man nor spider was ever meant to move.

How are we supposed to get him involved with the plot this week???? Well, that crate FELT dangerous, so he’s going to investigate it. Oh, dip, it was full of guns and radioactive snakes! Probably shouldn’t have opened that!

Yeah, okay, but why isn’t it fixing everything, then? Isn’t it supposed to be why Peter has never accidentally unmasked in front of somebody? ('Nother entry for this section, take a shot.) That’s crazy sensitive! How does he still have any problems!? Is everything bad that’s ever happened to characters with this powerset bad writing!? --Listen, I think as people with uncanny senses that can tell us whether we are in danger with accuracy that varies from incredible to approximate (I am talking about the five senses that most people have), we should all know better than to underestimate our ability to tune them out or interpret them wrong and fuck ourselves up anyway. I honestly find this part completely realistic.

*SLAPS ROOF OF SPIDER-SENSE* YOU CAN FIT SO MANY STORIES IN THIS THING

The spider-sense is a clean branch into...whatever. There is the exact right balance of structure and wishy-washiness to build off of. A sample selection of whatevers that have been built:

It’s sci-fi and spy gadgets when Peter builds technology that can interface with it.

It’s quasi-mystical when Kaine and Annie-May get stronger versions of it that give them literal psychic visions, or when you want to get mythological and start talking about all the spider-characters being part of a grand web of fate.

Kaine loses his and it becomes symbolic of a future newly unbound by constraints, entangled thematically with the improved physical health he picked up at the same time -- a loss presented as a gain.

Peter loses his and almost dies 782 times in one afternoon because that didn’t make the people he provoked when he had it stop trying to kill him, and also because he isn’t about to start “””taking the subway’’””’ “‘’“”to work”””’’” like some kind of loser who doesn’t get a heads up when he’s about to hit a pigeon at 50mph.

Peter’s starts tuning into his wife’s anxiety and it’s a tool in a relationship study.

It starts pinging whenever Peter’s near his boss who’s secretly been replaced by a shapeshifter and he IGNORES IT because his boss is enough of an asshole that that doesn’t strike him as weird; now it’s a comedy/irony tool.

Into the Spider-Verse made it this beautiful poetic thing connecting all the spider-heroes in the multiverse and stacked up a story on it about instant connection, loss, and incredibly unlikely strangers becoming a found family. It was also aesthetic as FUCK. Remember the scene where Miles just hears barely intelligible whispering that’s all lines people say later in the film and then his own voice very clearly says “look out” and then the room explodes?? Fuck!!!!

Venom becomes immune to it after hitchhiking to Earth in Peter’s bone juice and it makes him a unique threat while telling a more-homoerotic-than-I-assume-was-originally-intended story about violation and how close relationships can be dangerous when they go sour.

It doesn’t work on people you trust for maximum soap opera energy. Love the innate tragedy of this feature coming up.

IN CONCLUSION I don’t have much patience for writers who don’t take advantage of it, never mind feel they need to write around it.

#spiderman #peter parker #spiderverse #spidey #marvel #danny phantom #one day you'll see what i'm doing with it in the project i'm collabing on w/ my brother and then you'll all be sorry and hopefully impresse #mirrorfalls #asks answered #essays

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fangirlwriting-stories · 3 years

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Double Dog Dare You

Summary: Virgil is not happy about Janus being accepted, and since Roman feels the same, he'll take him along on this trip to yell at Janus and Remus. Unfortunately, when the argument turns into bickering about who could get along better, Remus suggests they prove it by trying to work together on a game he and Roman made as kids.

Virgil wasn’t sure how they’d ended up in this situation. If he had to pick someone to blame, it would be a five way tie between Thomas, Janus, himself, and 12 year old Roman and Remus. Or well, he supposed it would be a seven way tie, given that Thomas was technically all of them which included Patton and Logan too. Maybe he was blaming too many people.�� But it was definitely Thomas’ fault for accepting Janus, and Janus’ fault for putting them all in a position where Thomas had to. And he supposed he should blame himself for storming downstairs with Roman in the first place. But if he had to pick a main party to blame for the current situation with the flaming couch, the hand holding, and the puppies, it would be Roman and Remus, for coming up with this damn game in the first place.

It had still been his idea to come down here, though. When Roman had shown up in his room after the end of the video proclaiming that Deceit had been accepted, Virgil hadn’t believed him at first. But then he’d said “Janus” and Virgil had realized he meant it.

He hadn’t quite been sure what to do at first, but stewing in worry for a day isn’t a good thing for the embodiment of anxiety, and eventually he stormed over to Roman’s room and knocked on the door. When Roman opened it, Virgil grabbed his arm and dragged them both over to the door that led to the other commons. He opened the door and dragged Roman down the steps after him until they both ended up standing in front of Janus and Remus, both of whom were sitting at their kitchen table.

Roman had realized when Virgil opened the door to the commons what they were doing, and thankfully seemed on board, as now he was simply crossing his arms and glaring at them in the same way that Virgil was.

Janus gave them both a curious look. “Can we help you?”

“We need to talk,” Virgil snapped.

“Oh, of course,” Janus said, giving him an unamused look. “Feel free to storm angrily down here and demand to talk, that’s definitely likely to get us to listen to you.”

“What the hell was that with Thomas?” Virgil continued like Janus hadn’t spoken. “I mean, seriously!”

“No one told you that was okay,” Roman agreed from Virgil’s other side.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot I need to ask the likes of you two permission before I speak to Thomas,” Janus said, taking another sip from the wine glass that Virgil was pretty sure just had red gatorade in it.

“Did you have a reason to come down here other than just yelling at us?” Remus asked. “Again?”

“Do I need another reason?” Virgil turned to him. “You don’t get to be accepted by Thomas just like that! That’s insanely dangerous, for Thomas!”

“Not to mention some of us still have more than a few issues with you,” Roman added, glaring at Janus.

Janus glared at him right back. “Oh, I’m sorry Roman, I thought you, as a self-proclaimed honorable side, would at least give the benefit of the doubt.”

“I have given the benefit of the doubt,” Roman spat. “For all the good it’s done me.”

“Oh, for all the good it’s done you. Yes, that’s a perfect model of the selflessness you all seem to value so much.”

“Like you have any right to lecture anyone on selflessness,” Virgil exclaimed. “You lying two-faced son of a—”

“Careful Virgil,” Janus said, smacking Virgil’s own hand over his mouth before he could finish. “That’s hardly language that would be approved by those core sides you love so much.”

“Don’t silence my friend you villain,” Roman snapped, drawing his sword and pointing it at Janus as Virgil ripped his hand down to his side again.

“Ah, and back to the villains and heroes again,” Janus sighed. “I suppose you’ve learned nothing.”

“Back off,” Virgil said, stepping closer to Janus and keeping an eye on Remus, who had been watching silently for once and was now slinking off with a purpose. If he knocked Roman out again—

“Need I remind you, you’re the ones who came down here,” Janus said. “If you wanted us to back off we were doing it perfectly fine on our own. I can hardly be blamed if you two want to come down here without even trying to give us a chance.”

“Hey, we could get along fine if you two weren’t so impossible!” Virgil snapped.

“Oh please, if I actually cared enough to try, I could definitely get along better with you two than you could with me.”

“That’s not how that works—”

“PROVE IT!”

Everyone who wasn’t Remus screamed as Remus slammed something down on the table, then stood back and grinned at the rest of them like that answered any questions. What he’d slammed down appeared to be a small black box with a red button on top. Virgil looked at Janus, who seemed just as confused as he was, and then over at Roman, who did not look confused, and instead seemed to be staring at the black box with a sort of weary dread.

“Uh, Roman,” Virgil asked hesitantly. “What’s that?”

“This,” Remus announced before Roman could say anything. “Is the last thing Ro-Bro and I made together! We were 12. We might have been high.”

“We were not high,” Roman said, sounding very done with whatever this was before anything about it had even been explained.

“Well how do you remember?”

“How do you remember how old we were?”

Remus waved the question off, though Virgil knew the answer instantly. He wasn’t going to say it out loud, though.

“Point is,” Remus said. “This was probably somewhere near the last time we actually got along well enough to make something. You guys all want to prove you can get along? Let’s play it!”

“That is a horrible idea,” Roman said.

“Aww, giving up so soon?” Remus teased.

“You want us all to play Double Dog Dare You? Remus, we played that thing once and we barely survived.”

“Uh, Double Dog Dare You?” Virgil asked, giving Roman a curious look.

“It’s essentially just daring each other to do things, but with—”

“That is not what it is!” Remus exclaimed, aghast. “Roman, how dare you?”

Roman groaned, looking up at the ceiling.

“Look, all I’m saying is, this game can involve a lot of teamwork once it gets going!” Remus said. “You want to figure out who’s better at getting along, this is a great way to do it!”

“It’s really not—” Roman started.

“I’m in,” Janus said casually, looking down at his gloves as if admiring his nails.

“Oh, are you?” Virgil grumbled. “Roman just said it’s a horrible idea.”

“Seems to me like you’re not willing to try hard enough to give it a chance,” Janus said, smirking at him.

Virgil glared at him, but Janus had them backed into a corner and he knew it. After a moment, he sighed, harsh enough to make his displeasure clear, then looked back between Remus and Roman. “How does it work?”

“Dear Zeus, we’re doing this,” Roman grumbled. “Okay. You hit the red button on the box, and a tiny gremlin man pops out to give you dares.”

“I’m guessing that was Remus’ influence,” Virgil muttered.

“Yep. If you can’t complete the dare or don’t want to, I have to conjure two puppies to bite at your ankles until the game is over, which happens when the tiny gremlin man decides we’ve all been tortured enough for a day.”

“You just conjure two puppies?” Janus asked.

“Each failed dare,” Remus said with a wide grin. “See if there’s anything ‘just’ about it when there’s ten puppies all biting at your ankles.”

Janus seemed to comprehend that after a second, and suddenly looked uncertain. “Okay, maybe this isn’t such a terrific idea.”

“Now who’s not willing to work together enough to try,” Virgil said, smirking back at him. Turnabout is fair play, after all. It was Janus’ turn to glare back.

“Okay!” Remus called, jumping in place. “Let’s get this party going then!” He leaned forward and slammed his hand on the red button, and the box peeled back to reveal a small creature that looked like it didn’t eat enough, with beady eyes and a too-wide smile. He hopped out and the box reformed.

“Remus, that makes this game look too sinister,” Virgil grumbled.

“This game is too sinister,” Roman muttered from his other side, as they all took a seat at the table. Virgil gave him a nervous look.

“It’ll start small, don’t worry,” Roman said, waving his hand dismissively.

“That doesn’t exactly appease my worries,” Virgil said, but he didn’t get time to say much else as the gremlin man stopped in front of Janus.

“I Double Dog Dare You,” he said, his voice annoyingly high and whiny, which was also definitely Remus’ influence. “To eat a spoonful of peanut butter without a glass of milk.”

Janus blinked, and leaned back in his chair. “That’s it?”

“Do you accept?” the creature asked.

Janus shrugged. “Yeah, alright.”

Before he could stand up and go to the kitchen, a spoonful of peanut butter appeared in the gremlin’s hand, and he offered it to Janus. Janus grabbed the spoon and ate the peanut butter off of it, and Virgil watched his face until it screwed up in displeasure.

“Okay, wow,” Janus muttered. “That’s really dry. Can I have a glass of milk now that I’ve finished the dare?”

“No!” the gremlin man snapped, and he moved over in front of Remus. Janus looked more than a little offended, Virgil had to stifle his laughter.

“I Double Dog Dare You,” the gremlin man said to Remus. “To wear your sash around your head for the whole game.”

“Wait, the game can give personalized dares?” Virgil asked.

“Oh yeah, absolutely,” Remus said, pulling his sash off and tying it around his head. “My little gremlin can see, can’t he? Yes you can, yes you can see,” Remus cooed at the gremlin man. It blew a raspberry at Remus and headed across the table to stop in front of Roman.

“I Double Dog Dare You to take your shirt off for the whole game.”

“You couldn’t have given that one to Remus?” Roman grumbled, pulling his shirt off over his head and setting it on the table.

“Oh, I don’t need a dare for that!” Remus called, yanking his shirt off and throwing it on top of Roman’s. Roman gave a long sigh.

The gremlin man walked over and stopped in front of Virgil. “I Double Dog Dare You to give the player to your left a bear hug.”

Virgil looked across the table towards Janus. “Nope. Roman give me some puppies.”

Roman waved his hand, and two puppies appeared on Virgil’s other side, then both ran under the table and started snapping at his legs. “Ow!” Virgil cried, yanking his legs up onto his chair.

Janus laughed. “That’s what you get for being scared of a hug.”

“I’m not scared you fucking—”

“I Double Dog Dare You,” the gremlin man cut him off. “To do a backflip.”

Janus raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think I’m capable of that.”

“Then take the puppies!” Remus called.

Janus sighed, and looked over at Roman, who waved his hand again. Barking started up a second later, and Janus hissed and yanked his legs up too. Virgil smirked. “That’s what you get for being scared of a backflip,” he teased.

Janus hissed at him.

The gremlin man moved over to Remus. “I Double Dog Dare You to arm wrestle the player to your left.”

“Let’s do this!” Remus exclaimed, putting his arm on the table.

“Oh, but I don’t want to,” Roman said, sticking his tongue out at Remus. “Puppies for you.”

More barking started up, and Remus yanked his legs onto his chair, glaring at Roman, who looked more than a little smug.

“Roman, could you make the puppies silent?” Virgil asked, sticking his hands over his ears.

“Nope, sorry. That’s part of the game,” Roman said with a shrug as the gremlin man walked over to him.

“I Double Dog Dare You to put your hand down the garbage disposal.”

“What?” Virgil exclaimed. “Hey, that’s too far, that would hurt him!”

“He didn’t say it had to be on,” Remus pointed out.

“Wait till you get to the later rounds,” Roman sighed, pushing his chair back and heading over to the kitchen. Virgil craned his neck slightly to see without having to get down and subject his legs to the puppies.

“Ewww, Remus!” Roman snapped, and Virgil heard running water start. “What did you put down there?”

Remus started grinning. “Why would I tell you when I can let you come up with all sorts of disgusting ideas yourself?” he called.

“Ew!”

Roman made his way back over to the table, shaking his thankfully now clean hand and wiping it on his bare chest to try and dry it off.

The gremlin man walked over in front of Virgil as Roman sat back down. “I Double Dog Dare You to let the player to your right wear your hoodie for the rest of the game.”

“Why do all my dares involve other people?” Virgil grumbled, taking his hoodie off and passing it to Roman. “Here, now you can have a shirt again.”

“Thanks, Emo,” Roman said, pulling the hoodie on.

“That was all a nice warm up,” the gremlin man said, turning between all of the players. “But let’s stop wasting everyone’s time, shall we?” He moved over in front of Janus. “I Double Dog Dare You to eat the thing that’s been in the fridge the longest.”

Janus’ lip curled, and he looked over at Remus. “Isn’t that your year old meatloaf surprise?”

“The surprise is which mold you get to eat first!” Remus called happily.

“Yeah, I’ll take some more dogs,” Janus said, glancing over at Roman.

“Good choice,” Roman agreed, waving his hand as the barking got louder.

The gremlin man moved over to Remus. “I Double Dog Dare You to ride a bike across the room blindfolded.”

“With dogs biting at his ankles?” Virgil asked.

Roman nodded. “Those don’t go away until the game is over.”

“Let’s do this!” Remus called, jumping up. A bike appeared, along with a blindfold over his face. Remus immediately hopped on and started pedaling around the room. He made it to the other side and managed to avoid the couch due to Virgil screaming out that he was about to hit it, but on the way back one of the puppies snapped at his ankles too hard and Remus lost control of the bike. He hit the ground hard, and the puppies started barking and clawing at his face.

“Remus!” Janus cried, jumping up and running to try and grab at the dogs, only for his hands phased right through them.

“Oh yeah, you can’t touch other people’s dogs,” Roman said, standing too.

“Seriously? Who came up with that rule?” Virgil asked, jumping up and heading over, trying to move fast enough that his dogs couldn’t reach him. He grabbed onto one of Remus’ arms and helped Janus pull him upright and yank the blindfold off of his face.

Remus glared down at the puppies once they both stepped back and kicked one away from him. “Scram, you future hot dogs. You ruined my lovely face.”

“Sounds like that would be difficult,” Roman said, leaning against a nearby wall. “You’d have to have one first.”

Remus stuck his tongue out at him.

“Looks like you couldn’t complete the dare,” the gremlin man said, from his spot now flying above them with what looked like ancient bat wings. “I believe that requires a penalty?” He looked over at Roman, who sighed and waved his hand again, and two more dogs appeared at Remus’ feet.

“Excellent. Now,” the gremlin man flew over to hover in front of Roman. “I Double Dog Dare You to run from a herd of bulls.”

“Ha. No,” Roman said, waving his hand. “I’d rather run from a couple of dogs.”

“Aww, skipping a dare so early?” Remus asked, grinning at him. “You’ve gone soft, Ro-Bro.”

“I can’t blame him for not wanting to run from a herd of bulls,” Virgil said, rolling his eyes. “And can we please go sit on the couch or something?” He yanked his leg up as a puppy snapped at it again.

They all moved over and sat on the couch, only to realize that the problem with that was that dogs could much more easily hop up on the couch than the chairs. But before they could move again, the gremlin man spoke up.

“I Double Dog Dare You,” he said. “All of you, to stay right here for the rest of the game, unless a dare requires you to move.”

“Oh, come on, can he dare all of us at once?” Janus snapped, kicking a dog away. “What was wrong with you two when you made this thing?”

“I don’t know, ask Remus,” Roman grumbled, kicking his own dogs away.

“Hey, you were right there with me coming up with this thing!” Remus snapped. “You’re not so perfect!”

“I didn’t come up with a tiny gremlin man that thrives off torturing players as the thing to give everyone the dares!”

“How boring would this game be without that though?”

“At least we would be safer!”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Can we please just move on?” Virgil screamed, trying to be heard over puppies and Roman and Remus.

“What an excellent idea,” the gremlin said, flying over in front of Virgil. “I Double Dog Dare You to share your deepest regret.”

“No,” Virgil snapped. “Why do all of my dares require me to be emotionally vulnerable for some reason? Don’t I ever get to ride a bike blindfolded across a room?”

“Loaning me your hoodie requires you to be emotionally vulnerable?” Roman asked, making two more puppies appear by Virgil’s feet.

“It’s my damn hoodie, Roman. No one else ever gets to touch it if I have a say in the matter.”

“Except you doooon’t,” Remus sang.

Virgil glared at him and slammed his fist into his open hand. Remus cackled.

The gremlin man flew over to Janus, who was now right next to Virgil. “I Double Dog Dare You to play tetherball with a beehive.”

“Good lord!” Janus exclaimed. “No!”

Roman sighed and waved his hand again, and Janus yelped and started smacking dogs away one after the other.

“You know, you shouldn’t do that all the time. He’ll get annoyed,” Roman said.

“I’m not playing tetherball with a beehive,” Janus said, smacking another dog away. “He can get annoyed.”

The gremlin man stopped in front of Remus, on the other side of Janus. “I Double Dog Dare You to eat cheese off a mouse trap.”

“Done!” Remus called, and a mousetrap appeared.

“No!” Janus and Virgil exclaimed, and Janus knocked the mousetrap out of Remus’ hand.

“Aww, why not?”

“Because that’s insane,” Virgil snapped. “And you could seriously hurt yourself.”

“It’s not like I don’t do that all the time anyway!”

“Roman, conjure some puppies,” Janus said.

Roman raised an eyebrow, but did so. “I think we should really be careful about how many times we skip dares. I’m serious, it doesn’t usually end well if we do it enough times.”

“Yeah, so you should let me eat from the mousetrap—”

“No,” Virgil and Janus both said at the same time.

The gremlin man flew over in front of Roman. “I Double Dog Dare You to jump off of a cliff into the ocean.”

Roman looked nervous, but sighed. “Fine.”

The gremlin man grinned, and they both vanished.

“Wait, what? Roman!” Virgil cried. He spun around to face Remus. “Where did he go?”

“Probably the Imagination. We gave him access if a dare requires it.”

“Are you insane?”

“I mean, maybe. Why?”

Virgil groaned, and buried his head in his hands. A dog bit his ankle a second later. “Ow!” he snapped, kicking it back again.

A second later Roman and the gremlin man appeared, Roman soaking wet and looking a little shaken up.

“Roman!” Virgil cried. “Are you okay?”

“I’m f-f-fine,” Roman said, though his chattering teeth told a different story.

“Are you sure? We can try and find you some dry clothes.”

“I Double Dog Dare You,” the gremlin man said to Virgil, cutting off any potential answer from Roman. “To dangle upside down off the couch for ten seconds.”

“What— there are dogs there!” Virgil exclaimed.

“I thought you wanted a dare that didn’t involve being emotionally vulnerable,” the gremlin man asked, raising an eyebrow.

Virgil glared at him then carefully spun around. “Roman, grab my feet, would you?”

“Are you nuts?” Janus asked, even as Roman did so.

Virgil dropped his head off the couch and started swiping at the dogs that came close. He vaguely registered the gremlin man counting above his head, but focused on the dogs. One managed to claw at his face, and Virgil cried out, trying to fight the impulse to put his hand up there and stop swiping at the rest. Thankfully, a moment later Roman yanked him back upright and set him down, and the dogs could proceed with tearing the bottom of his pants to shreds.

“Fuck,” Virgil said, wincing as he felt the scratches on his face.

“Why in the world would you do that?” Janus asked.

“Roman said he could get annoyed if we keep skipping dares,” Virgil said. “I don’t want to piss this guy off, look what he’s like when he’s not pissed off.”

“Still, you— come here. Remus, give me that,” Janus said, grabbing something from Remus that Virgil couldn’t see. He took Virgil’s face and pulled it closer, and before Virgil could protest, he started dabbing something at the cut on his cheek. Virgil winced, but registered the thing sitting on his lap as a first aid kit, so he let him keep going.

Janus pulled back after putting a bandage on his cheek, and looking it over enough to apparently be satisfied. “There,” he said, sitting back again.

“Uh. Thanks,” Virgil said, suddenly a little uncomfortable as he sat back.

They didn’t have much time to stew in the feeling, however, before the gremlin man flew in front of Janus. “I Double Dog Dare You to stand on your head for the rest of the game.”

“I can’t do that,” Janus said in annoyance. “Also, that’s clearly just a more dangerous version of Virgil’s dare, I double dog dare you to get some originality.”

“Janus,” Roman said warningly, even as he summoned two more dogs. Janus summoned a couple extra hands to hold the new dogs back.

“You better watch yourself,” the gremlin man said to Janus. “Insulting me is not generally a good idea.”

Janus glared, but didn’t say anything else. The gremlin man headed over to Remus. “I Double Dog Dare You to stay up all night.”

“I did that last night,” Remus said with a shrug. “Shouldn’t be too hard.”

“How can he enforce that?” Virgil asked. “Won’t the game be over by then?”

“Probably. But that just means if I don’t do it the game starts up again.”

“And you agreed to one like that?!” Virgil exclaimed.

Remus shrugged. “It’s not that hard.”

“Okay, fine, sure, whatever,” Virgil muttered, pinching the bridge of his own.

The gremlin man flew over to Roman. “I Double Dog Dare You to walk on a floor of Legos.”

“With two dogs biting at my ankles,” Roman sighed. “Why not?”

The floor was suddenly covered in legos, and Roman hopped up, landing on a couple of them. He hissed in pain, and Virgil winced. He walked across the front of the couch and back, and then sat down again.

“You good?” Virgil asked, looking at his feet.

“He’s put me through worse,” Roman said, glaring up at the gremlin man, who was now flying over to stop in front of Virgil.

“I Double Dog Dare You to share what you really think about everyone here.”

“And we’re back on the emotional vulnerability,” Virgil said, throwing his hands up. “Hell no.”

Roman sighed and waved his hand.

The gremlin man did not look happy. “You all are going to start to regret this,” he said.

“You first,” Virgil snapped.

The gremlin man glared back at him as he flew over to Janus. “I Double Dog Dare You to lay down in a pile of beehives.”

“Okay, are you just trying to hurt him at this point?” Virgil said, crossing his arms. “You already used the beehive idea!”

“I don’t like him,” the gremlin man said, turning up his nose.

“Well, sorry, but two dogs is still less painful than bees,” Janus said, looking over at Roman. Roman looked unsure, but waved his hand anyway, bringing the number of dogs Janus was trying to fight off up to ten.

The gremlin man didn’t say anything, which was definitely worrying. It flew over and stopped in front of Remus. “I Double Dog Dare You to steal Virgil’s hoodie and cut it into pieces.”

“What? Hey!” Virgil snapped, reaching out to try and grab the gremlin man, who floated casually backwards. “That’s not fair! This is supposed to be his dare, you can’t involve me!”

“Technically I’m involving Roman, he’s the one wearing it,” the gremlin man pointed out, narrowing his eyes. “And I can do whatever I want.” He flew closer into Remus’ face. “Well?”

Remus looked over at Virgil, and to his surprise, he seemed a little uncomfortable. “I don’t want to do that,” he said.

The gremlin man looked like it was getting seriously annoyed, but thankfully Roman just waved his hand and made two new dogs appear at Remus’ feet.

Virgil gave him a look, but before he could question his decision, the gremlin man flew back over to Roman. “I Double Dog Dare You to steal Janus’ hat.”

“What’s with the clothing stealing all of a sudden?” Roman asked, as Janus hissed and his hands flew to his head.

The gremlin man grinned. “Well?”

Roman looked over at Janus, and as if on cue, a dog climbed up past his arms and started swiping at the hat on his head. Janus tried to swipe it off, but the rest of the dogs started to climb up as well, and he couldn’t get very far.

Roman bit his lip and shook his head, waving his hand and making two new dogs appear.

The gremlin man looked like he was getting more unhappy by the minute, and Virgil resolved to do this dare, whatever it was. He flew over in front of him. “I Double Dog Dare You to hold hands with the player to your left for the rest of the game.”

Virgil looked over at Janus and let out a long sigh, then held his hand out. Janus looked equally uncomfortable and irritated, but he took it anyway.

The gremlin man at least looked a little pleased as he flew over in front of Janus, who was still struggling with the dogs as well as now holding Virgil’s hand, leaving one less to do so. “I Double Dog Dare You,” he said. “To set off a firecracker indoors.”

“What?” Janus exclaimed. “No!”

The gremlin man drew himself up and huffed. “You know, I’m getting a little tired of you disagreeing. From now on, there is a ten dog limit.” He seemed to politely give them all a few second to realize that’s how many dogs Janus had. “Now go set off this firecracker!”

He held it out in front of Janus, who looked like he didn’t want to be playing this game anymore. But he stood up, and Virgil went with him, as he now apparently had to hold Janus’ hand for the rest of the game. They both dodged the dogs at their feet long enough for Janus to set up the firecracker on the other side of the room. The gremlin flew over with a lit match and handed it to Janus, who lit the firecracker, which was pointed away from everyone else.

“Duck and cover!” Virgil yelled anyway, because he wasn’t an idiot, and everyone dove down among the dogs at the base of the couch, ignoring the scratching for long enough for a loud boom to ring out through the room and sparks to fly everywhere.

More than a couple landed on the couch, which promptly burst into flames.

“You weren’t allowed to get off the couch!” the gremlin man screamed, and pointed at Roman and Remus, who each got two more puppies by their feet. The barking was getting loud enough that Virgil could barely hear anything else.

Roman held out a fire extinguisher to Virgil, who in turn passed it to Janus, in case he was the only one who could use it for some reason. “PUT IT OUT!” he screamed, gesturing wildly at the couch. “PUT IT OUT, PUT IT OUT, PUT IT—”

…

Logan took a sip of his coffee and casually turned the page in his book. This was getting rather interesting. He might have to retreat to his room to avoid revealing any emotional investment.

“Hey, Logan?”

Logan glanced up at Patton and raised an eyebrow to show he was listening.

“Do you ever get the feeling something really important is happening that you’re missing out on?”

Logan’s gave him a baffled look. “No?”

“Really? Never?”

“Are you Patton or Virgil?” Logan asked, looking back at his book.

“Hmm. Fair enough.”

…

The fire extinguisher was at least succeeding in putting out the fire well enough that nothing else caught, but that didn’t stop the puppies that were rapidly multiply by Roman and Remus’ feet for as long as they were off the couch. Janus tried pointing the fire extinguisher at some of them, but that didn’t deter them since they weren’t his puppies, and the foam inside went right through them and landed on Roman and Remus instead, and them scooping it onto the puppies instead just wasn’t as effective.

Virgil eventually dragged Janus over towards the two of them and shoved them both back onto the couch, which at least stopped the puppies from multiplying, though it didn’t do anything about the fact that the puppies were now swarming up onto the couch and on top of Roman and Remus. Virgil wasn’t really sure what else he could do, and just clung to Janus enough that there was no chance it could be seen as not holding his hand. As long as they didn’t sit back down the dare wasn’t over, right? Right?

Virgil’s scattered and terrified thoughts were interrupted by laughter. He managed to look around enough to see the gremlin man holding his stomach and cackling, and he was about to start screaming at him when he stopped.

“Okay,” he called, loud enough to be heard by Roman. “That’s enough. I’ve had enough.” He burst into crazed laughter again as Roman waved his hand and got rid of all the puppies.

Everyone collapsed with a sigh onto the ground, finally getting a chance to breathe.

“Man,” the gremlin man said, grinning at all of them. “You four are a riot. I haven’t had that much fun since Roman and Remus played years ago. Thank you for a wonderful end to an afternoon. Remus, remember to stay up all night tonight or I’ll be back. I’ll see you all next time!”

With that, he flew over to the black box on the table, and disappeared inside with a wave.

“Yeah, I think not,” Virgil snapped at the now empty air.

For a long moment everyone was silent. Virgil looked over at the remains of the firecracker, the blackened couch, and the shredded remains of the bottom of his pants. He gave a short laugh.

Roman copied it across the room, and everyone exchanged one last glance before bursting into full-on laughter.

“Oh my god,” Virgil got out. “We’re so stupid.”

“I keep forgetting there’s a reason we tried to destroy that game,” Remus said with a grin.

“I tried to warn you!” Roman said, smacking Remus on the back of the head, though he was grinning too.

They all laughed for a while longer, before they finally calmed down enough to just breathe for a while.

“Okay,” Virgil said, standing. “I’m going back to my room.”

“Me too,” Roman said weakly, pushing himself off the couch.

“Uh, sorry about your…” Virgil looked around at the various destruction.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Janus said. “Remus does worse on a regular Tuesday.”

“I do,” Remus said, with a proud nod.

“Cool,” Roman said, though he didn’t really sound like he meant it. “Uh. See you… around.” He waved awkwardly at Janus and Remus, who both waved awkwardly back, and then sunk out. Virgil gave a half wave and followed.

Rather then to his room however, he changed destinations mid travel and ending up in the kitchen. Evidently Roman had a similar idea, because he was there when Virgil appeared. He got himself a glass of water, and must have figured the reason Virgil was there, because he got one for him next and passed it over.

“Here,” he said, pulling off Virgil’s hoodie, which wasn’t much more than shredded fabric at this point. “Oh, uh…” He waved his hand and fixed up both their outfits, as well as putting his regular shirt and sash back on.

“Thanks,” Virgil said, slipping his hoodie back on. “So, uh. You and Remus were… kinda nuts, huh?”

“Yeah, we were, um, really something when we worked together,” Roman said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Virgil reached his hand up and felt the bandage still there from where Janus had patched up the scratch on his cheek.

“Sorry,” Roman said. “Can’t do much for injuries. Remus is better at that.”

“No it’s fine,” Virgil said. “I think I’m just gonna go lay down for a year.”

Roman chuckled. “Yeah, me too.”

“Roman, Virgil, is that you?” Patton called. Virgil glanced over towards the living room and saw Patton walking over. “Hey, kiddos, I’ve been trying to find you. I was just wondering if you were okay with breakfast for dinner. I was gonna make some pancakes.”

“Oh sure,” Virgil said, making sure to cover the cheek bandage that he didn’t want to explain right now.

“So, did you kiddos do anything interesting today?” Patton asked, moving past them to start grabbing stuff for pancakes.

Virgil exchanged a glance with Roman. “Nah,” he said.

“Not really.”

…

Virgil was only a little surprised when Roman showed up at his door that night. He stepped back and let him in without any argument.

“So I didn’t expect that to go the way it did,” he announced as if that was some grand revelation, before moving to sit on Virgil’s desk chair.

“Yeah,” Virgil muttered, sitting on his bed.

“Virgil? Can I ask you a question?”

Virgil glanced over at Roman. “Sure.”

“Do you know why Remus remembered how old we were when we made that stupid game?”

Virgil winced.

“So you do.”

Virgil sighed, and nodded. “Remus… counts how many days it’s been since you guys made something together,” he said quietly.

Roman stared at him. “Why?”

“Because he doesn’t want to stop,” Virgil muttered, looking away and rubbing his arm.

Roman didn’t say anything for long enough that Virgil looked back up. Roman looked like he needed some time to process that idea. Virgil couldn’t blame him. Eventually he looked back over. “Hey Virgil?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think they might actually just be trying to help Thomas in their own way?” Roman hesitated. “Like you were?” he finished quietly.

“No,” Virgil said instantly, but then stopped. “I mean…” He sighed. “Okay, maybe. But they’ve still got stuff to answer for. I mean they… they made me feel so alone.” He looked back at Roman hurriedly. “And, I mean, Janus still has to apologize to you. He’s been a dick.”

“I might owe him an apology for something too,” Roman muttered. “But either way, I don’t think acting angry and antagonizing them all the time is helpful.”

“What do you think… would be helpful?” Virgil asked hesitantly.

Roman met his gaze, and Virgil could tell they were thinking of the same thing. He shrugged, leaving it up to Roman.

Roman stood and headed out of his room, and Virgil followed, out into the commons, through the other door, and down the steps.

Janus and Remus were sitting in front of the TV when they got there. Neither of them seemed to notice they were there at first.

Finally, Roman cleared his throat.

Both of them spun around, and seemed equally surprised to see them.

“Virgil? Roman? What are you doing here?” Janus asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, we’re just making sure the dare gets completed,” Virgil said. “I mean, what if all of us had to be here or something? I’m not playing that game again just because we didn’t show up and we were required to.”

“Yeah, we really should just destroy it,” Remus muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I don’t know,” Roman said. “Maybe it can be improved. We can figure that out later. For now, we’re all definitely stuck down here for a night.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Janus said. “Pity that there really is no way around it. Come sit down, I suppose.”

“If I wasn’t so insistent on being better safe than sorry, I’d be out of here right now,” Virgil said, walking around the couch and sitting down next to Janus.

“Of course,” Janus said with a nod. “I would kick you out first, as a matter of fact.”

“I’d make a giant boot to do the job,” Remus said with a nod.

Roman sat down on Virgil’s other side as Janus was pulling up a selection of horror movies. They’d probably end up watching a gross one. It was Remus they had to keep awake, after all.

“Popcorn?” Roman suggested, summoning a couple of tubs.

“Sure, put them on the table,” Janus said, and Roman did just that as Janus started the movie, and they all settled back into the couch that still smelled like fireworks.

Nothing was fixed, and Virgil knew that. But maybe they could get there. Maybe this was a good start.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #dares #puppies #my fic

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syndianites · 3 years

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A Queen Serve and Protects

Chapter Six

First Chapter –> Last Chapter –> Current –> Next Chapter TBA! Summary:

Post-Style Queen, Pre-Queen Wasp.

Chloe finds the Bee Miraculous, but instead of finding an obliging, subservient Kwami, she finds the Kwami of Order and Subjugation, and Pollen is not about to let herself be used like Nooroo was.

Granted, the only danger in a teenage girl is the damage she poses to herself. Can Pollen shape Chloe into a hero? Or will she stubbornly refuse to change and remain the bitter, harsh person the city has long since known?

[My take on how Chloe’s character could have developed] ——————————————————————————————

Pollen tapped the tablet pen on the table. School had ended and the duo was officially home.

“Chloe,” Pollen began. “It has come to my attention that you don’t do your own work.”

“So?” Chloe nonchalantly replied, crossing one leg over the other from where she sat on the chaise in front of Pollen.

Pollen tried not to roll her eyes. “So, I want you to learn how to be self-sufficient.”

Chloe scoffed. “I am plenty self-sufficient.”

“Really?” Pollen had a sweet smile on her face. “Then prove it.”

:readmore:

Before Chloe could make any remark, Polle flew over to her school bag. It looked more like a purse, honestly, with how much makeup and accessories she had stashed away inside. Seriously, what did you need an extra pair of heels for?

Pollen shook off the thought and grabbed the binder Chloe used for class, as well as her homework folder. Brining both items back to the table, she flipped the folder open. She pulled out the first sheet of homework she saw- something math related- and waved a paw at it.

Chloe gave her a dumbfounded look. “You want me to do that? Sabrina normally does.”

Pollen raised an eyebrow.

“Ugh, fine, I get it.” Chloe grumbled. “What does doing my own work have to do with being self-sufficient anyway?”

“When was the last time you did your own school work.”

“Ughhhh!”

Letting out a little giggle, Pollen decided to make a compromise, “For every question you get correct, I’ll let you ask a question about the Bee miraculous and its powers. However!” Pollen held a paw up before Chloe could get too excited, “For each you get wrong, you have to listen to some history and background on the miraculous.”

“Ooo-kay? How is that a loss for me? I still get to know what I want to know,” Chloe replied.

If only the poor girl knew.

Pollen beamed. “I’m glad you asked! You know how much you love our ‘Bee Nice’ Sessions?”

Chloe groaned.

“Anything I tell you will come along with lessons. I will tell you tales that are important for a number of reasons. And you have to sit through all of them!”

Chloe’s eye twitched. That sounded excruciating. Buuuut, she did want to know more about what powers the Bee miraculous could give her. It was just a simple math worksheet. Surely, it couldn’t be that hard. So Chloe took out a blank sheet of paper and began working.

She was wrong. So, so wrong. Chloe was by no means a bad student. She got solid B’s and pleased her daddy enough with her grades to get by. Did she need to have a study session with Sabrina before each test or quiz to get the contents down? Yes.

But that was all pish-posh. She figured if she could pick up enough for a test or quiz a day before it, she could do homework with no problem. Apparently, she hadn’t been giving Sabrina enough credit. That girl made it so much easier than this.

It didn’t help that her notes were a total disaster. Half-finished sentences, unclear instructions, and a clear lack of interest in each page. For a moment Chloe cursed her own apathy. She wanted to know more, damnit!

By the time she finished she felt exhausted. Pollen, ever chipper, hummed as she looked through each question. She procured a pen and started making marks. That was a lot of red. Oh GOD, there was so much red.

Pollen tapped the pen to her chin in thought. Giving a nod, she wrote a score at the top of her sheet.

6/15.

That was just under half! And that meant she would have failed had it been a test. Chloe resisted the urge to hit her head on the table. She could not afford to be forced into tutoring. Again.

Despite Chloe’s despair, Pollen was excited. This was better than she was expecting! Sure, she had been hoping for closer to a 75% or 80%, but Chloe at least had the idea down.

Plus this meant she could drill some more lessons into her charge.

Rubbing her paws together, she addressed Chloe. “Alright. Since it is almost an even split, let’s go back and forth with questions and history. I’ll start with a history lesson first, since you missed more than you got correct. But since I’m feeling nice, I’ll give you a choice here: Would you rather hear some history about my previous holders first, or about all the miraculous as a whole?”

“Your past wielders, of course! I need to know who would be so lucky to use the same miraculous as moi.” Chloe flipped her hair back to accentuate her point.

Pollen huffed. Nonetheless, she thought back to her past holders, humming all the while. Who would be the best to start with to help Chloe learn?

She smiled as someone came to mind. “Now, before we start, I should say that we aren’t always deployed to battle some great evil. Sometimes, we are let out into the world to help inspire something. For me, I either inspire Order and Control. Or, when that gets to be too much, I inspire freedom from Order and Control.”

“Wait,” Chloe interrupted. “Why would you go against your whole Order thing?”

“I thought you wanted to talk about past wielders first,” Pollen brought a paw up to her lips to hide a smile. “To get into that would mean I would have to talk about all the miraculous.”

“Ugh, fine, whatever. Tell me the basics about all the miraculous first. But! You better tell me about your past users after!” Chloe conceded, pouting at the little god.

Pollen started again. “Like I said, we don’t always need a great evil to fight. At their core, each miraculous is meant to balance out their respective aspects. Tikki- Ladybug’s kwami- is the kwami of Light and Creation, for example. She is largely put out into the world to inspire new ideas and innovation.”

Chloe scrunched her nose in confusion. “Didn’t you say you also get put out to stop Order and Control? Why would you ever want to stop Light and Creation?”

“Well,” Pollen looked off to the side. “You can’t endlessly create. Tikki works on a more individual scale. She inspires Light and Creation in people as individuals. I, however, inspire Order and Subj- Control in a much larger scheme. After all, a bee’s focus is on the hive, isn’t it?”

“In any case, sometimes people burn themselves out when creating too much or spreading too much light. If you give and give and give, what is left for you? Nothing. And those left with nothing often crumble and fall apart- or worse. Tikki, when she is needed to, can either help her holder ease off themselves or help their holder teach others to let go of such demanding responsibility.”

Chloe nodded slowly. That… sort of made sense. “So it’s like when Adr- a friend of mine kept being happy and smiling even after his mother died to help others stop being sad. Because he wanted others to feel ‘lighter’” She made finger quotes, “Despite the tragedy that happened?”

“Yes, that could be a good example,” Pollen agreed. “If your friend gave away all his light and such to others, it could burn him out and leave him feeling empty and cold. Though, in this case I would lean more into the Peacock- he worked to give good emotion to others to cover their grief. But we’ll get there in a moment.”

“Plagg, Chat Noir’s kwami, is Tikki’s counterpart. He is the kwami of Dark and Destruction.” Pollen stopped as Chloe seemed to ponder that.

“If he is all about dark and destruction, wouldn’t that make him more likely to be evil?” Chloe mused.

Pollen, for her part, wasn’t bothered by the question. “If I am all about order and control, wouldn’t I be more likely to use and abuse people?”

Chloe bit her lip, but shook her head no.

“Exactly. Just because that is what we represent it does not mean we are prone to be good or evil. In the balance of all things, there IS no good and evil. Really, it just comes down to what a certain group likes or dislikes, or how a person’s morals are aligned.”

“Okay, no, Hawkmoth is totally evil. There is no doubt about that. How could taking control of others and using their emotions to turn them into monsters be seen as a good thing?” Chloe didn’t like the idea of Hawkmoth being in the ‘right’ at all. It went against everything he had done to Paris.

“Well,” Polled offered, “Does Hawkmoth see himself as evil?”

Chloe sat back in her seat. If movies were anything to go by, he probably didn’t. She sighed and motioned Pollen to continue

Pollen pushed on. “In any case, Plagg is often put into the world to ruin things. Surprising, isn’t it? But sometimes the best things are made in the ashes of destruction. Growing from losing things is important for many people. Like how your friend lost his mom- he likely felt sad and lost. But if he grew from that? He could learn to see that others will have his back and he can lean on them. Even in the hard times.”

Chloe looked away from Pollen. She was right, sort of. When Adrien’s mom died, Chloe had been there trying her best to cheer him up. Did it really work? No. But she helped him escape the house and run around the city with her, and watch stupid cartoons and shows, and sometimes, just sometimes, get him to smile.

“But losing your mom isn’t a good thing!” Chloe snapped back. “That devastated my friend and his family.”

“I know, and I’m sorry I painted it as such. Loss is a horrible thing to endure. But I wanted to make a connection to something you mentioned.” Pollen bowed her head. “Destruction is rarely a happy thing. But, a more positive example would be something more metaphorical- the destruction of insecurities, or breaking a bad relationship, or- or bashing down a wall so you can open up a room to have more space!”

Sighing, Pollen shook her head. “It is far too easy to see Dark and Destruction as a bad thing. Darkness can be used to hide when you don’t feel safe. Or it can be used to tone down how bright something is when you feel blinded. It can also be used as a complement and give things more depth.”

“Of course, Plagg has also been put out to tame destruction. Have you ever heard the phrase ‘fighting fire with fire’? It’s the idea that you fight destruction with destruction. But he can also help people see their bad habits, or the things that hurt them, and get them to reign them in and stop themselves before it’s too late.”

“Okay, sure, that makes sense. But didn’t you just describe Tikki and Plagg as opposites anyway? Light and Dark, Creation and Destruction? Why do they need to get people to go against their aspect when the other IS the opposite?” Chloe butt in.

Pollen brightened. “That’s technically later in this lesson, but I can touch on it now. You’ve likely noticed that Ladybug and Chat Noir came together as a pair, correct?” At Chloe’s nod, she continued. “That is because they are like Yin and Yang- opposites that complete each other. While other kwamis do have opposites, none quite work the same as Tikki and Plagg. They were once a single being- one that was the kwami of Balance.”

“Well,” Pollen rubbed her cheek, “They weren’t a kwami, per se. But that is too much to explain for right now. You recall how Hawkmoth’s goal is to get the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculous?”

“Of course, that’s all he ever talks about when he akumatizes someone!”

“Well, that’s because when you combine the two into one you can have any wish granted.”

“What!” Chloe slammed her hands down on the coffee table, startling Pollen. “That’s horrible! I mean, the power is cool, but if Hawkmoth got his grubby hands on that wish who knows what he would wish for!”

“Exactly! But there’s a catch with that- whatever you wish for will have an equal and opposite consequence. If you wished for someone to come back to life? Someone else must die. If you want to have all the power in the world? Everyone else must become powerless. These may sound simple, but the gravity is just as dire as the wish would be grand.”

Chloe fell back. “So, if I- well, if I wished for my mom to love me..?”

“It depends,” Pollen shrugged. “Maybe everyone else around you would hate you. Maybe your father would stop loving you. Or, in a more subtle fashion, she wouldn’t love the real you, just a facsimile of you. Whoever she thinks you are. Sure, there are ways to make a wish that has a mostly positive outcome- for the one making the wish- but the consequence will always hurt someone. Even if it has to be a lot of someones.”

The two fell into silence after that declaration. It was a heavy thought. What could drive someone to want to change something so badly they would be willing to suffer or let others suffer for it? How cold hearted must you be?

The whole thing baffled Chloe. She could just ring her father and have what she wanted with no consequence. Could she imagine doing something so drastic as to ruin someone’s life to make hers better?

Instead of voicing any of this, Chloe leaned forward. “So tell me about the other miraculous…”

#chloe bourgeois #chloe bourgois redemption #miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #pollen (ladybug)#pollen #pollen the kwami #Kwami of the Bee miraculous #Bee miraculous #every time i get lazier and lazier with these tags #anyway if you reblog this i would kill for you uwu

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franniebanana · 3 years

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CQL Rewatch - Ep 22

It feels so good to see these two together, talking about old times, and most importantly, not arguing. It's as if this was the conversation that was meant to happen back in Yiling, but it didn't because emotions were too high. I guess it's true that absence makes the heart grow fonder. Wei Wuxian has time to think about and come to the understanding that Lan Wangji isn't fighting him, but instead showing concern. And Lan Wangji gets to hear Wei Wuxian's side of the story, about what he did those three months in the Burial Grounds. It's so refreshing to have this release after so much tension had built up, where the two of them are just open and honest with each other. And you can see how Wei Wuxian's relationship with Lan Wangji is different from his relationship to everyone else. While we get to see him being vulnerable with Jiang Yanli, he won't tell her everything; we see him connecting with Jiang Cheng again, but as is his temperament, Jiang Cheng is often flippant and dismissive, and only really cares that Wei Wuxian is back within the Jiang Clan fold. Lan Wangji really cannot be satisfied until he knows what's been going on; he wants to be reassured that Wei Wuxian is okay in both mind and body, he wants to know that he's not gone to the dark side per se.

And this moment is so pivotal here. Now that they've finally talked and gotten everything out that they've both been ruminating on over the past however long (idk timelines lol), Wei Wuxian is in a place where he can say he'll accept Lan Wangji's help. Wei Wuxian doesn't agree to it begrudgingly, but I think it's a hopeless agreement. Unless you know about his lack of a Golden Core, his response seems odd--maybe you think he's tired, maybe you think he's just doing it to appease Lan Wangji, but is being dishonest. With the knowledge of the transfer, you can see that he is agreeing to appease Lan Wangji, but not in a lazy or dishonest way: he knows that he can never learn the sword again, but he allows Lan Wangji to at least help him with his temperament. I don't think it's him agreeing to get Lan Wangji off his back, I think instead he's letting Lan Wangji know how important he is to Wei Wuxian--he's special.

After Wei Wuxian agrees to letting Lan Wangji help, he walks away smiling. He doesn't let Lan Wangji see it either. I feel that he's indescribably happy that with so many changes in his life, he has his relationship with Lan Wangji back--he has his best friend, he has someone who he can trust. And remember, he's not concerned about his temperament being overwhelmed--Wei Wuxian has always considered himself a prodigy, so while this is challenging, he believes that what he learned from the Gusu Lan Clan is enough. Lan Wangji, on the other hand, is still very concerned, and he devotes all of his free time to figuring out ways to help Wei Wuxian, to steady his mind and temperament.

So, while I'm watching this filler, I'm imagining a terrible scenario they could have done. When you're adapting a book or a play or really anything, it's not uncommon to add scenes, right? CQL has plenty of added scenes for context and padding, plus shit they just made up. Okay, so this would fall into the latter category. Imagine if they had had Lan Wangji get turned into a puppet/Urukai, and then there's some big, dramatic way that Wei Wuxian has to save him and turn him back, and it only brings them closer together as brothers in arms/whatever bs they were trying to sell us without making it romantic. Sounds like a terrible idea, right? Aren't you glad the writers had enough integrity and respect for the novel that they didn't do that? I complain about things that were added or changed as well, but if they had given me an actual explicit acknowledgment of wangxian love, I would have been happy. Of course, censorship is a bitch, so that's a no go. The point of this is that it could have been a lot worse.

Oh, god. Soup drama. Thank you to that person who posted the soup drama in Lan Wangji's POV. You are amazing, and that post always makes me cackle.

Ah, but this is canon to the novel if I remember correctly. It's totally valid and is actually kind of sad for Yanli, but I still think it's hilarious the way Wei Wuxian just takes off like a shot without knowing what's going on. The thing is, Jiang Yanli is just embarrassed about the whole thing and wants to leave, but of course Wei Wuxian wants revenge. He still harbors no love for Jin Zixuan, and any chance he gets to put the peacock in his place, he'll take.

Yanli is tugging on him with both hands, and Wei Wuxian doesn't move. He is just standing there, glaring at Jin Zixuan. There are two people in the world who Wei Wuxian will defend forever: Jiang Yanli and Lan Wangji--and Jin Zixuan has just offended one of them. Wei Wuxian is beyond pissed. And now couple that with how he was trapped in a sunless graveyard for three months, has been doing nothing but fighting since he's been out, and is using his spiritual power in a dangerous and unstable method. His mood, my friends, is not great right now.

I love how Lan Wangji looks inside the tent, and then proceeds to immediately nope out of there. I blame that soup drama post for everything that I see now, because it really does look like he's just thinking, "Ugh, soup drama again." But in all seriousness, I think this is just Lan Wangji feeling awkward again. I think he came out of genuine concern for Jiang Yanli, because remember Wei Wuxian took off without even hearing what was going on, but when he sees that it's clearly a matter between her and Jin Zixuan, he leaves. This isn't his business, and it also involves romance, because of course he remembers how they were betrothed until the fight broke out in Cloud Recesses. Regardless of how Lan Wangji carries himself and how he's so respected as a cultivator, he's still a young man, who still feels awkward about the idea of love and doesn't really want to be around any of it--lovers' quarrels and whatnot.

The other thing is, they don't pan over to Lan Wangji for no reason. Perhaps he's still remembering the conversation he had with Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng back in Yiling: this is a Jiang Clan affair. And this time, he's choosing to bow out when he realizes it isn't his business. However, he doesn't want to go far, because he knows how dangerous Wei Wuxian really is, especially if he loses his cool.

Honestly, Jin Zixuan is such a dick here. Every time I think he's made progress, he takes a step backward. Jiang Yanli is the sweetest person, and is just giving him soup every day to provide him with some comfort. We're to understand that she is a good cook and her soup is The Best, so she wants to do something nice for him, perhaps bring him the comfort of home in the place that is farthest from home, and he practically throws it back in her face. It's a total misunderstanding, but my heart breaks for her. And after this moment, Jin Zixuan starts to try harder. I think he finally sees who she is, what kind of person she is, and understands how genuine and loving she has always been. He finally opens his eyes and gets to know her as a person, not as the girl he's engaged to, not as the girl he was engaged to, not as the girl his parents want him to marry--but as the girl who he's interested in.

Not a lot to talk about this episode. I swear, half of it is just fighting. But let's take a moment to appreciate Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji fighting together. I am a sucker for this sort of thing, so I love seeing Lan Wangji swoop in and knock a baddie's sword out of the way to protect Wei Wuxian. It feels good seeing that and seeing them on the same side, fighting together.

Wei Wuxian tried it their way. He tried to fight without using Chenqing, but the fight was impossible. As stated before, the puppets are unkillable, so there was no way to win just by fighting them, and obviously what Nie Mingjue was doing wasn't helping. The only way to survive at this point was to try and control the puppets into working against Wen Ruohan. There's a shot of Lan Wangji before this, where he looks concerned, but I think he even knows that they had no other choice.

This was a short one, sorry! But really, I'm not going to babble about nothing. So much fighting and not a lot of dialogue or other things really happened. We're just getting through major plot points right now to be honest.

Other episodes: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | Or just check out the #CQL Rewatch hashtag

#wangxian #lan wangji #wei wuxian #cql #the untamed #jiang cheng #jiang yanli #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #ep 22 #cql rewatch

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slashingdisneypasta · 3 years

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Classic Heavy x OnPeriod!Reader || Oneshot

Title: Period Horniness Mixed With Boredom and a Busy Boyfriend?

Notes:

Please let me know if I haven't used AFAB correctly! I just didn't want to back y’all into too small a corner. So, this is meant to be ‘Reader who gets periods’. Could be a cis female, transitioning trans female, gender-neutral or agender person with a vagina, etc. Just, provided you have a vagina.

I know he isn't on the list but I wanted to try someone new! I don't play TF2 but I’ve read what there is of the comics! I loved them! ^^

Plot: So...

You decided that it was a good idea to sext Chevy.

Warnings: SMUT (Penis in Vagina). Period sex (He licks it once but that’s it in the way of blood to mouth), dirty talk, Daddy kink, dirty names, etc. *Cough* Creampie also. Lets hope videogame characters cant procreate or contract STD’s. I meant for it to be nasty smut, but due to my lack of experience and fluff brain I dunno if it actually is 😅 So beware.

~~~

As you are bored out of your mind and reading smuts (Dean Winchester. Beetlejuice. Herman Carter. Oh boy), causing your libido to get even more aggressive in your current hormonal state, you shrink down further into the couch cushions and groan from pain.

Not from cramps; You don’t get them as bad as others anymore, thank god (And besides, you have a hot water bottle underwear your shirt and the top of your sweats), but from the fact that your very huge, very hot and very lusty boyfriend is stuck in a meeting elsewhere!! Pouting, you drop your phone onto your chest and drop your head to the side, staring at the ceiling.

You sigh.

Ross, on the other couch across from you, rolls his head to the side and puts down his magazine to raise his bushy brows at you. “What is yer problem??”

“Hm,” You sigh again. “Nothing... “

As Ross looks back at his Lifestyle you get an idea, a cheeky smile slowly skidding across your lips as you peak down at your phone on your chest. Ooooh... Snatching up the phone, you open up Chevy’s message tab and start tapping out a text. “Heheh... “

You: Hey Chev. If you could do anything to me and I h a d to say yes, what would you do?

Then quickly you turn off the phone and set it back in its place screen down on your chest. You wonder, what would he say if he responded? What would you really agree to?

... actually lets not wonder that. We may scare ourselves. Lets just say; Much.

A few minutes later your phone buzzes and you take a moment, calming your nerves and your excitement before you pick it up and open the messages again.

Chevy: Ohhh, I wouldn’t go there sweet bottom. Very, very busy right now.

Chewing on your thumb nail, you grin broadly at the screen and wonder even more what he’s thinking.

You: What should I do while I wait for you then? If you’re so busy I’ll be so wet when you get here...

You: Already am pretty soaked actually. I tried to handle it myself. . .

Okay, this is the great thing about Chevy, realise. You can say whatever you like, sex-wise, and you wont ever be embarrassed. Because you know he’s always up to fuck, and he’s usually thinking about it first.

Chevy: Oh, are you just teasing me or are you gonna send proof? This is a dangerous game your playing princess/prince.

Oh dear. You cant send proof! How can you deflect this? “Ahh... “ Thinking as you look around the room, muttering in a panic ‘Um. Um. Um. Um-’, “OH!” You hop up from the couch and duck behind it, pull the front of your shirt forward and quickly snap a picture of your chest, before fixing your clothes and jumping back onto the couch, laying on your back again. Cheeks rosy from the adrenaline. Ross looks confused at you, nose scrunched up and beard askew, but you just waive him off and send the picture. You don’t type anything this time.

“Squirrely... “ Ross mutters in annoyance, shaking his head back at his reading material.

Your phone buzzes again and you try to keep a straight face as you read the block of text, and watch the attachment, the bottom half of your face hidden comfortably behind the collar of your shirt to hide your frazzled-ness.

Chevy: Baby, you know that’s not what I meant... But look what its done to me. Devil person.

*Chevy Attached: A video of his lap shifting, and there’s a slight bulge in his black pants.

Eyes wide at the video he must’ve taken on the sly under the table, of his gently growing prominence, as he shifts to get more comfortable with it. Its just enough movement for you to imagine it thrusting onto your aching section and it makes you hide even more of your face under your shirt. “Jesus... “ This may have been a bad idea.

Bad I cant stop.

You: I love that

Chevy: I know

*Chevy Attached: A picture of his grinning face from below, looking off assumedly to the slideshow or whatever they’re being shown in that meeting.

Why is that cocky, mischievous look on his face, which some (Including yourself sometimes) would call an asshole look, hotter then the outline of his huge, ever loving cock?? It just doesn't add up!

This is becoming a cruel, and unusual form of torture. You’ve never tried sexting before today, and you regret it.

Ohhh, god. You wish he was here! Closing your eyes for a moment and furrowing your eyebrows from frustration and longing, you shamelessly imagine how Chev would lead you to the nearest empty room with a door (Any room. Laundry? Kitchen? Your room? His? Someone else's?? It wouldn’t matter to him, and by the time he got your favourite weapon of his out you wouldn't either. At least, that’s the way things were the last time you checked.) push your body against the wall and thrust his cock deep into you as he plays torturously with your front with his huge hands...

And it wouldn't be hard. You’re already totally slick, with blood and slick.

Oh, god. You love that he’s there for period sex.

As you imagined, you had let your head fall to the side slowly relaxing. And, as you imagined further, fantasising about your orgasm building up and feeling your pussy ache for pressure in real life you start to hear h e a v y footsteps coming towards this room in the hall.

Just as you realise that your knight in shining cargo has come you snap your eyes open and there that man is, standing behind the couch above you, jaw taught. You cant see his lower section due to the back of the couch obscuring your view but a broad grin rips across your lips anyway at the speediness of his arrival and the forcefulness - in other words, desperation, - in his face. You immediately, kind of hilariously, yank out the hot water bottle from your clothes. “Well, hi there!- Oh,”

He just leans down, fixes his ginormous, manly hands around your waist and plucks you off the couch with ease, literally throwing you over his shoulder - your ass by his head, - and starts walking with just as much force as he came towards the exit. Oh, here we go...

Your pussy sings at the pressure of his broad shoulder pressing against it, and bumping against it as he walks, and you would be embarrassed by that but instead you just promise it that its going to get its real treat, real soon.

“Baby girl/boy, you’ve been a real, desperate, whore.” Cheavy growls out as he finds a room and turns on his heel, getting you both inside and kicking the door hard closed. You take that as a sign of how hard he’s about to fuck you, tingling with excitement. He lifts you off his shoulder and plops you down on the washing machine - or dryer? You don’t know. You just know its on, and its sending delicious vibrations through your core, - making you moan at the sudden, total attention to your cunt. But you’re also occupied sitting still, caught in his stern, smirking expression. “I really shouldn't reward you for behaviour like that, kid.”

Knitting your eyebrows together and shifting forward on the machine, opening your legs so he can nestle himself between them and running your hands around his neck so you can guide him forward you whine. Simping. “You don’t want to leave either, though, do you... ?” You smirk slyly.

“Right.” He smirks back, even more mischievously then you. It makes you wonder, and your pussy yearn. “That’s why I’m doing this for me.” One of those hands, your favourite hands in the entire world (Well apart from that of those who fight for minorities rights every day *Sit com wink into the camera*. ) moves between the two and latches onto your mound, making you jolt forwards into it as he cups and massages it. His hand perfectly cups it, too. Palm big enough to press against the lips, thumb strong enough at the top to rub up and down the top and the rest of his fingers just warm it all up. “Are you gonna be an obedient, disgusting little cock sleeve?” Caught in his gaze, and almost too turned on to respond, you stay still for a moment, thighs just clamping around his hand.

Almost.

Quickly, when he stops his movements on your core you nod fervently. “Yes! Yes, I am.”

“Hmmm?” He tilts his head, looking down as he unbuttons your jeans and makes your breath hitch as dips a thick finger past your underwear, into you and immediately takes it up again to his lips to taste, smirking at your stupefied expression. Blood... he just... tasted... your... He does this every time you two engage in period sex, just to see this reaction from you but you never get used to it. How does he do it?? “What do you call me when I fuck you, Y/N?”

You break yourself out of the moment, getting back to reality. “D-Daddy. Sorry. Sorry, Daddy... “

“That’s right, baby doll. I’m your Daddy, and you are... ?”

“Your amenable, disgusting little whore.” You respond obediently, like a student... yeah. A student right out of a porn video.

“Correct, now... Undo my pants now, wild cat. Somethings just begging for your aching, pretty cunt.” All too happy to do so, your hands dive down - well, not without feeling his chest up on your way down which is made so much easier as he’s just wearing a normal t-shirt instead of chest armour, - and wolfishly unzip and push down his trousers, revealing a fully, entirely enlarged and throbbing penis hidden behind worn cotton boxers. You chew on your lips as you go to pull down those, too, but Chevy chuckles and and gathers your eager hands in one his, reclaiming control that he never really lost. “Oh, not yet. I told you this was for me, didn't I?- “

“When are our carnal relations ever any different, Chev?” You ask, scrunching up your nose cheekily. Then, “Ah,”, remembering your place for the moment, you correct yourself carefully. But, you still smirk. “I mean... Daddy.”

“Get on your knees and use your mouth. You are so good at that- your best quality, really.”

Scrunching up your nose at his snark this time, scowling, you do as he says anyway hopping off the machine and coming face-to-dick.

Because you are a whore.

In this moment, at least.

And, besides; You are really, really good at this. If you do say so yourself. if you do it just right, his animal instincts will completely take over and he’ll really use you. He steps closer, feet on either side of your thighs making you crane your neck to not be motorboating his freaken balls. Pulling down his boxers, finally completely exposing his, admittedly perfect - for you, - , genitalia and sigh as you get to wrap both your hands around the girth. Its so thick. God, you love it.

I would love it a heck of a lot more if it was nailing me into the tiles right now instead of nearly poking my eye out... but there are ways we can make that happen.

Moaning, like you’re taking the first bite of a really good sandwich you take as much of his hot, leaking cock between your lips and your hot mouth. Immediately one of his hands cups the back of your head and firmly pushes you further, the girth disappearing into you until hair tickles your nose. You can only imagine how you look... and it kind of turns you on even more.

“You are the best cocksleeve, sweet’eart... “ He says, voice not betraying anything so far. You can change that.

Utilising the tip of your tongue, you begin to stroke the the bottom, all along it to the tip and you suck - gently at first, - and slipping your lips along the shaft over and over, like you’re eating an icy poll. Its a slick, spit sheening mess by the time he’s literally spilling spurts of cum into your mouth and chin, which you wipe off. Not a full orgasm, but enough to grant you what you really want. And damn, is it hot.

As you slip off of his head again, licking up the creamy substance from the very tip, guided back by his hands in your hair gently but authoritatively he lets out a loud growl at the pleasure you give him. “... Tell me, who’s your Daddy?”

You just innocently lean forward and nuzzle his thighs in response, making him shudder and get down to the floor with you. Frustratedly, like this has to happen right fucking now, Chevy lays you on your back on the cold floor and straddles you after tugging down your pants and your underwear, and shoves himself fully in you all at once.

Its an easy fit, spearing into your searing, red, mess of a hole like it can only be one time of the month and when you have sex with Chevy. He grunts, and starts absolutely thundering into you over and over, like you’re the best feeling cunt he’s every experienced. You believe it. And, because of the way he makes you feel with that gorgeous, stone-hard cock of his you hope it is really true.

The sounds that it causes you to make are completely pornographic, and can absolutely be heard outside the room. The strength he uses to pound your dripping pussy both presses your bare ass into the cold tiles of the floor and pushes you up across the ground, and you whine. So hard... “Oh my god, oh my god!!” You cant help how your legs spread as wide as possible at the thighs but your ankles press tightly to his back. You arch your back to meet him, listening to the squish sounds that come out of you and his growly, fast breathing. “So good, Chevy!!”

“What.” He says quickly, wrapping his hands around your waist to keep you still and not sliding up the floor- so his hits find their target every time with an agonising strength. Pounding your pussy in a way you wish wouldn't stop.

Pushing his chest up so you can relocate, and get a different position, making him sit and you straddle his waist, hands up his shirt and fingers spreading across his hairy chest. “I meant Daddy.”

“Yes you fucking did.”

He always gets so cranky when he’s close to blowing.

Its not a bad thing, cranky is sexy on him- provided his penis is shoved inside you.

Grinding in his lap now, you do much of the grunt work, until he cant take your torment this time and takes your waist in his hands again, lifting you and jamming you back down on his rod over and over again, until he explodes cum inside you.

The outburst fills you up completely, the funk dripping out from between your walls and around his base, dripping on the floor pink from your period causing you to see stars come too, a moment later as he slams you down on his manhood once more.

Catching your breathes, you two stay sitting there like that, letting your shared fluid ooze out of you from around him, until his cock softens totally in you. When that’s done, he lifts your body off his and sets you down on the ground away from the puddle you two made. Your legs feel shaky, your breath is hard to catch, and your pussy feels battered.

This was a good session.

Chevy seems to think so too, as he grins and picks you up again, sitting you sideways, carefully on lap. “Oh, did I do well, Daddy?” You blink innocently, happy to keep playing the game but tired.

“Mhm. As always. You’ve got the perfect cunt, baby girl/boy.”

You look up, waiting for a kiss. “Oh, hope so.” Your lips meet, finally, tongues playing together gentle. You exchange long, open mouthed kisses with each other for a while after your session, making out lazily and dining on each others tastes as desert.

#Classic Heavy x Reader #TF2 Cheavy #TF2 Cheavy x Reader #Classic Heavy #Teen Fortress 2 #TF2 Chevy #TF2 Chevy x Reader

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 3 years

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(Accidental 150 Follower Special) IOTA’s Top 10 Worst Episodes of Miraculous Ladybug (Part 2)

Here’s Part 1

#5: Glaciator

Here's a good lesson to teach these incredibly impressionable children watching: If you're not in a romantic relationship by the time you're a teenager, you're a loser! And if someone says they just want to be friends, ignore that obvious hint that they're not into you and keep trying to impress them.

Marinette joins her friends to get some ice cream sold by the worst ice cream vendor in the world, Andre. Like, they have to find out where he's going to set up through a series of clues, they don't get a choice to order the flavors they like (and that's not even taking allergies into consideration), and he only gives a single cone to a couple to share while going on and on about how he knows about who someone really loves, and oh my God, why is this man still in business?

Surprisingly, as dumb as it is for Andre to get akumatized over a single customer doubting his magic ice cream, he's not the reason this episode is on the list. That honor goes to Cat Noir.

At the beginning of the episode, Cat Noir drops the pretenses and asks Ladybug out on a date.

Cat Noir: What would you say if you and I met up tonight for a little dinner? Rooftop style?

Ladybug: For dinner? As superheroes?

Cat Noir: Well, yeah. That's right. We're only together when we're saving Paris. I mean, wouldn't you actually like to get to know one another?

Ladybug: I... That's so thoughtful of you, but I can't. I already have plans with some friends.

Cat Noir: Well, if your plans end early, come and join me.

Ladybug: We'll see.

Cat Noir: I'll be waiting, my lady.

Notice that Ladybug doesn't say that she's coming, and mentions that she already has plans. Even the irresponsible Plagg points this out.

Plagg:You seem in a hurry to get stood up.

Adrien: She didn't say she wasn't coming.

Plagg: But she didn't say she was either!

So when Ladybug obviously doesn't come, Cat Noir just decides to mope around, acting like he was left at the altar, and when they meet up to take on the titular Glaciator, Cat Noir gets all pissy that Ladybug didn't come.

Ladybug: Hello, Kitty. Did the bad guys leave you cold?

Cat Noir: (sounding like his staff got shoved up his ass) How was your amazing evening with your “friends”?

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Again, Ladybug never said she was going to meet up with Cat Noir that night, because she had plans. Even later episodes like “Stormy Weather 2” claim that Ladybug stood up Cat Noir, when she DIDN'T! There was never anything set in stone, so Cat Noir can't say that Ladybug stood him up.

Even after the fight, when Ladybug tells Cat Noir that she only sees him as a friend, afterwards, Adrien still thinks he has a shot with her.

Adrien: Perhaps Ladybug will love me someday. I mean, like, I love her. I have to believe. In the meantime, her friendship is the best gift of all.

Dude. Take. A. Goddamn. Hint.

As ironic as the circumstances are, Ladybug just said she isn't into Adrien, and he's still going to go after her. And spoiler alert, his attempts to woo her are only going to get worse from here.

Yeah, this episode is heavy on the romance, and the idealized vision of what the writers think being in a relationship is like. Admittedly, I have a more jaded view of romantic plotlines, as the only real relationship I had ended right before my senior year of high school, and it gave me serious trust issues as a result because of how badly it ended, so I don't want to consider myself an expert in relationships.

But at the same time, that breakup helped me learn to not prioritize being in a relationship, and just focus on self-improvement. If that was the lesson the episode was going for, I'd get it, but we never get anyone say that. All everyone in this episode talks about is how awesome being in love with someone is.

The fact that the audience is supposed to find Cat Noir's behavior charming is disgusting, and I can't believe that Astruc condones this kind of writing.

In addition to continuing the trend of making Cat Noir oblivious to the word “no”, This episode also managed to do the impossible and make me hate ice cream with a fiery passion.

#4: Copycat

This show is really bad with writing episodes about evil doppelgangers, and like with “Antibug”, it's about Ladybug getting blamed for something she had nothing to do with.

A statue of Ladybug and Cat Noir is being unveiled, but because Marinette is preoccupied with trying to make sure Adrien doesn't receive an embarrassing voicemail she accidentally sent him, she isn't able to attend the unveiling ceremony as Ladybug. So when the sculptor mentions he has feelings for Ladybug, Cat Noir says this:

Cat Noir: Hey, don't mean to burst your bubble, but you know, Ladybug and me, we're a thing, you know?

The Sculptor: Really?

Cat Noir: Yeah, we're like this (crosses his fingers to show how close they are).

This exchange is never mentioned in the episode ever again, despite being what gets the sculptor akumatized.

Copycat, the akumatized form of the sculptor, is a reused character model copy of Cat Noir, and so like every impostor storyline in every TV show ever made, the public immediately turns on Cat Noir when Copycat frames him to the point where the police try to arrest him.

In case you couldn't tell, once again, Cat Noir is a big part of why this episode is so awful. If his entitlement issues were actually brought to light and he learns to not act like he and Ladybug are meant to be, it would have worked. Instead, it's Ladybug who is blamed for Copycat happening. Seriously, Cat Noir gives Ladybug heat for not being at the statue unveiling, like it was her fault the sculptor was akumatized.

Even later on, when Ladybug has trouble telling the difference between the two cats, Cat Noir has the gall to say “Have I ever lied to you, Bugaboo?”

HEY! Shat Noir! Lying is the reason you're Public Enemy #1 right now! You have no right to act like Ladybug deserves your trust, especially after you lied about your relationship with her!

This episode was also a little... uncomfortable to watch for a reason. For point of reference, here is the sculptor before he got akumatized.

While I can't read your mind, I'm going to take a wild guess and assume that you, the reader, are thinking “How old is this man, exactly?”

For a while, people in the Miraculous fandom were a little creeped out by this man because the episode unintentionally made it look like this grown-ass man was in love with a teenage girl. It wasn't until March of 2020 that Astruc clarified his age.

But by then, the damage had been done, with some fan works, most notably Zoe-Oneesama's Scarlet Lady, calling his age into question (though ironically, the comic ended with the revelation that he is around the same age as the main cast about five months before Astruc's tweet).

The only thing this episode really accomplished was set the stage for Adrien's worst moments by showing how self-centered he can be, no matter how the show tries to portray his feelings for Ladybug.

#3: Ladybug (The Episode, Obviously)

This is where the Lila subplot comes to a head because Astruc didn't think it would make sense for Lila to play a part in the season finale, and it doesn't fail to disappoint... mostly because everyone had expectations so low, they've made their way to the Earth's core.

Lila frames Marinette for cheating on a test, stealing her grandmother's necklace, and pushing her down a flight of stairs (despite showing no visible injuries). Despite no investigation being launched, Marinette is immediately expelled from school with nobody believing her except Alya. Why is she suddenly on Marinette's side again, despite falling for Lila's lies so many times before, while reiterating that she's still her best friend? Because the plot says so.

And if the episode was about Alya investigating Lila and proving Marinette's innocence, it would have been okay, and could have led to some great character development for her.

Of course, that doesn't happen, as the idea of Marinette being expelled was that gripping of a plot, as the focus of the episode immediately shifts over to Hawkmoth attempting to create another army of Akumas like what he did in “Heroes' Day”... only for Nathalie's failing health to force him to abort the plan, making the entire moment pointless.

Instead, despite how dangerous it is to transform using the Peacock Miraculous, Nathalie becomes Mayura and creates another evil doppelganger of Ladybug. What is it with the writers and evil doppelgangers of the heroes? Did someone on the writing team really like the Spider-Man Clone Saga?

And when Cat Noir sees the doppelganger, well... I didn't mention a certain scene in “Puppeteer 2” because I felt it would be better to talk about it here.

During the battle with the pathetic wax statues, Cat Noir briefly lets his guard down around yet another evil doppelganger of Ladybug, this time, it's a wax statue being controlled by Puppeteer 2 (even though the way she talks is nothing like the way Puppeteer's minions talked because it was five-year-old girl doing the talking). The wax Ladybug goes in for a kiss, and Cat Noir almost lets her take his Miraculous if not for the wax smell giving it away, and not, you know, the complete 180 she took in terms of suddenly wanting to kiss him for no reason.

Okay, it's a little shaky, but Cat Noir still caught on. He'd never fall for a fake Ladybug just because she said she loved him, right?

Yes. He seriously took the side of the impostor all because of the sudden love confession. Just how MORONIC can one person be? If Caity Lotz randomly showed up at my doorstep and claimed she loved me, I wouldn't immediately start making out with her. I would want to know what the hell she's doing here, and why she suddenly declared her love for me.

But Cat Noir seriously falls for the fake Ladybug for the dumbest reason possible. He seriously doesn't think it's weird that Ladybug suddenly confessed her love for him?

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And then Ladybug gets the charm that the fake Ladybug was created from, and suddenly, she's a good guy? Before we even get time to think about this, Mayura just erases the fake Ladybug from existence, and now we're supposed to feel bad that she's gone?

Even the expulsion subplot is easily resolved, as after an interesting scene with Adrien coercing Lila to confess in exchange for letting her model alongside her, Marinette is just let back into school with no difficulties. I mean, it's not like her parents would be pissed that their daughter was framed and possibly want to take legal action against the school, right?

And I have to reiterate, this is the last we see of Lila this season because Astruc thinks Chloe is far worse and deserves to be punished for working with Hawkmoth.

Between Marinette getting expelled, a second Scarletmoth attack, and the fake Ladybug, this episode just has too much going on, and it makes it incredibly hard to follow. If it was a two-parter, I think it could have been better paced, but from we got, it's just a mess of a poorly paced episode.

#2: Frozer

Wow, you probably didn't expect to see this episode on this list. I mean, everyone in the Miraculous fandom loves this episode!

Where should I even start? Maybe the scene from the trailer where Adrien reveals his identity to Ladybug... only for it to be a daydream. Because why would we actually want a reveal or have Adrien confess his feelings to Ladybug without the mask?

Yep, despite Ladybug saying that she only sees Cat Noir as a friend, as well as the fact that she loves someone else, he still can't help but try to make her fall for him. But don't worry, I'll get back to their relationship later on.

After that, Marinette agrees to come to the ice rink with Adrien so he isn't as nervous around Kagami, who is awful in this episode. Remember when Astruc elaborated on Kagami line telling Marinette to not hesitate as a warning to move her ass or Adrien was hers

Doesn't that just make everyone love Kagami as a character, and not as a forced love rival instead?

And this is the episode where the romance subplot in Miraculous Ladybug went from having an interesting concept with the Love Square, and turned it into a generic love triangle plotline thanks to Luka. I love Lukanette, but the whole love triangle only gives less time for the four sides of the Love Square to shine. It doesn't help that Marinette's conflicted feelings are brushed over so we can focus on the titular Frozer, who only gets three lines while akumatized.

And now back to the Whiny Cat Noir Show. For no reason, Cat Noir is suddenly all angry when he sees Ladybug, and just like in “Glaciator”, it's never acknowledged. Though at least here, Cat Noir admits that Ladybug's plan to defeat Frozer is right.

And then there's the ending, where it looks like Marinette is going to confess her feelings to Adrien... only for that to also be a daydream.

youtube

Hey, if any of the Miraculous Ladybug writers are reading this... STOP TEASING THE AUDIENCE LIKE THIS AND CUT THE BULLSHIT ALREADY!

This episode is proof that the romance subplot will just be drawn out even more, all while teasing the audience with potential confessions and reveals just to keep them hooked. And yet, it was only a taste of what the romance would be like in Season 3.

And even then, I still think one episode is worse than this.

#1: FELIX.

I hate this episode. It is among the worst episodes of any TV show I have ever seen. Not just for the writing, but for what it represents. Let's just say that like “Animaestro”, Astruc had a hand in the way this episode turned out, and unlike “Animaestro”, there was a big fallout on Twitter.

In fact, I'm sorry to keep leading you down the rabbit hole like this, but I think this episode deserves its own post. Or rather, its own posts.

For now, I'm going to work on the list of the best episodes to help me recover my sanity.

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weasleydream · 3 years

Text

dreams are my reality - part 3

it’s finally here! This part is what happened during that fateful night and only that. Also i messed with the timeline but nothing too bad.

This may be a bit violent, mention of death and blood.

As usual, feel free to like, comment, reblog and enjoy!

Masterlist

~ i’ll see how the real thing can be and it’s not pretty ~

The muggle village - August 1983

“I’m not saying that you shouldn’t have left us, just that a good friend wouldn’t have cleared out just because McGonagall was walking in the same corridor.”

“Sirius, would you shut up?” I hissed, ready to break his neck if he added one word that wasn’t a yes.

“Of course I’ll shut up, as soon as you admit that quitting on us was a bad thing to do.”

I didn’t need to look at him to know he was smiling goofily, seemingly unaware of the fact that we were walking in an empty alley just because we were looking for a dangerous death eater.

“First of all, you could have run away too if your arse wasn’t glued to the floor. And McGonagall wasn’t just walking in the same corridor, she was coming for us! And Sirius, we were in first year and James and you had dragged me there against my will. Remember?”

And it was true; the memory of Sirius claiming I would be the coolest girl of the school was still fresh in my mind, and with the terror brought by the sound of McGonagall’s steps, I knew it would stay engraved in my brain for a very long time.

“Dragged you?” Sirius made a clicking noise with his tongue. “I’m not even sure one of us grabbed your hand.”

“Oh, not only my hand you idiot, my bag and my wand too!”

“And? You’re clearly not traumatized so-”

Sirius’ voice had died in his throat as soon as the explosion had echoed, yet my blood froze in my veins at the thought that maybe he had gotten us spotted. With the discretion of a cat with soft paws, he crossed the short distance that was separating us and placed himself ahead of me. A glance in my direction - Are you ready? - and a firm nod later, we were running silently toward the place of the village, hoping with all our heart that no one was hurt.

Obviously, the death eater had already left the crime scene. Sirius and I were the last of our group to get there. Remus and James were turning all around the place like caged lions, probably looking for any clue of where the responsible had disappeared. Lily and Peter were struggling in front of the burning church, trying to get the fire to stop and to get the survivors out of this hell. A woman ran into me and my arms wrapped instinctively around her; hers were trembling and her covered in soot hands were slipping on my skin. She was mumbling incoherent sentences in which I didn’t understand anything, and I was sure she was speaking another language. However, her frantic gestures toward the fire lighted something in me, an urge to get in the furnace without even knowing why. I looked up a second to see Lily fussing over a wounded man and Sirius and Peter still trying to control the fire. No one could help me with the poor woman.

She cried out something, a word I didn’t understand.

“Nena! Nena!”

“I don’t know what it means!” I screamed, cursing myself for not being able to understand a single word.

She pointed the finger at her belly, at her heart and finally at the fire. Slowly - way too slowly - I understood what it meant. A baby was in there. I nodded frantically and the woman fell on her knees. I didn’t have the time to check on her; instead, I went to Sirius and tried to get him to help me. He was totally freaking out, and his panic only increased when he realized what I was telling him.

“With me!” he yelled, and we joined forces to try and extinguish the fire once and for all.

Finally, the last flames died, the last proof of its presence being the ashes flying in the air. The woman rushed between the smoldering ruins and I was ready to follow her, but Sirius grabbed my wrist. A split second later, a terrible cry echoed, and Sirius shook his head.

At the very same moment, something exploded a few streets away.

“James!”

It was Lily, and she lost no time in running toward the root cause of the noise. We followed her and found a half fallen house in front of James and Remus, the both of them looking infuriated.

“The bastard!”

Through gritted teeth, Remus told us how they were sure someone had led them there before making the batiment explode and James added the death eater - because it was obviously him - had been careful to stay well hidden.

“So that means we’re running blindly behind him?” asked Peter, his voice still hoarse from the smoke of the fire.

“Running blindly and doing whatever he wants us to.” I added darkly.

Even James and Sirius knew it had been a bad idea to accept this mission, now. Both of them had their eyes wild and were glancing frequently at each other.

“So? What do we do now that he’s disappeared and we don’t know where to look?” muttered Lily before hiding her face in James’ neck, probably having a bout of nausea after everything we had already gone through. To be honest, I was still feeling sick thinking about that poor woman and her baby.

I was observing a stone on the ground and wishing it could tell us what we needed to know when Peter stiffened.

“Guys,” he whispered. “Act natural, but I think we didn’t have all the information.”

“What makes you think that?”

If Remus was sarcastic and obviously didn’t understand where Peter was going with this, something caught my eyes and the realization hit me.

“An animagus?” I questioned quietly, and Peter nodded.

I almost missed the black feathers, but I still caught the bird flying from a rooftop to another. Then the bird dropped to the floor, and it happened so fast that none of us had sketched a movement when it turned into a massive black silhouette half hidden in the shadows.

“You could have gotten out of here alive if you had just ignored me.” The voice was raspy, the tone aggressive. “Too bad you didn’t.”

This last affirmation sounded like a signal; as soon as the sound of his voice had died, the death eater drew his wand and we did the same, Sirius and Remus taking a step forward. I hadn’t seen his face, yet I was picturing myself the man with a crooked rictus and with the eyes so dark that you knew just by looking at him that his soul was rotten to the core. For some unknown reason, he didn’t attack; instead, I was feeling the weight of his eyes on us. I could imagine him looking at Sirius and Remus first because they were just in front of him, measuring the trembling of their arms - not caused by fear but by fury, which he probably was aware of; then his eyes passing from them to James and Lily, just close enough for him to guess the nature of their relationship, to Peter with his wand as high as ours and finally to me. Did he know I was looking intensely in his direction? That we were all looking right at him, our muscles tensed to make sure we would react quickly enough when the attack would come?

If he did, he didn’t care the least. It was with something that could be qualified as nonchalance that he muttered the first spell. The green light illuminated for a second his face, and his eyes were fixed on us. The curse almost hit James, and that’s when the riposte began.

The first counterattack spell came from Remus and missed the death eater by a hair. At the same time, Sirius rushed to the enemy, followed closely by James. Lily helped Remus to get up; he had dived to the floor to dodge a curse. Peter and I were making a detour to reach the death eater’s back, counting on James and Sirius to occupy him enough. It seemed like a mess, yet it was a manoeuvre well established because of years of service in the Order. It had always worked, more or less depending on the case, but it had never failed us. Never until then, at least.

I realized things were going to get even more dangerous when the man turned his gaze to me, plunging his eyes in mine and with his lips slowly twisting in a sickening rictus whereas he was being assaulted by James. A move of the wrist had sent James flying a few meters away, hitting Sirius and bringing him to the ground in the process. He lifted his hand, and as the terror was invading me, the only thing my brain was capable of was wondering if the movement was really as slow as it seemed to be. I drew my wand but like in dreams, it felt like something was stopping my arm. A glare was burning in his eyes, it was so intense that I felt it in the depths of my body. If the thought that he was doing some wandless and wordless magic on me crossed my mind, I found myself unable to express it.

His wand was now pointed on me, his eyes fixing me to the ground and his power keeping me defenseless. Second by second, I saw his lips moving, forming a word I didn’t recognize, his arm got more stiff, his rictus wider. And behind my back, second by second, Sirius was getting closer to me.

The collision caught me by surprise, not so much because it was unexpected but because of the violence of it. Sirius’ shoulder hit my lower back which sent my hips forward, and my head followed one second late. Our bodies hit the hard ground, and the scream of the death eater covered our grunts of pain. He didn’t give us a moment to recover and I heard his steps before I saw him taking great strides. Sirius was already getting up, his wand firmly held high to protect the both of us, but he didn’t need it to counter the first attack. The arm of the death eater was trembling with what I thought was rage, and he missed Sirius. Instead of its initial target, the curse flew to me and scratched my skin just underneath my neck. The shock stopped me dead in my tracks. A few centimeters higher and it was over for me; the realization erased everything else in my mind, even the painful burning sensation where my blood was now flowing.

This time, the death eater didn’t mutter the curse. He yelled it, angrier than before, and the sound of his voice masked the noise provoked by Remus, who I saw approaching in his back. A green halo surrounded the death eater and disappeared in a heartbeat, barely illuminating the scene enough for the lifeless body of our enemy to be seen falling. However, I saw perfectly well his last curse making his way straight to Sirius’ torso.

Sirius’ facial expressions changed from relief to shock and then to pain, to agony. His hands reached to his shirt, and when he removed them, they appeared red, bloody. His fall began with the buckling of his knees. They hit the floor, and his body, drained of all its strength, tilted forward. His arms had gone limp and his face crashed to the ground.

It had all happened in less than a second.

I was unable to move.

Somewhere at my right, several grunts escaped Peter’s mouth as Lily and James were helping him. I didn’t process his bloody leg, nor did I realize Lily was using only her right hand. Remus was already at Sirius’ side, and it’s only when he looked up to me with wet eyes that something clicked.

“Sirius!”

To be continued...

#Harry Potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #Sirius Black #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #blood

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thebigqueer · 3 years

Text

Solangelo - "Longing for Solutide" - One-Shot

SPOILERS: The Burning Maze

Summary: Nico learns of Jason's death.

Word Count: 2104

Read on AO3

A soft breeze flits past the demigods as they sit by the fire, laughing and chattering about the day’s activities. A blue and pink sky spills overhead, and the scent of flowers and rain lingers in the air. Spring has approached, finally.

Unfortunately, this also means that it has been almost three months since Apollo came down to Earth, creating chaos amongst all the demigods. For the most part, no one has been too worried, but Nico knows there’s more at play - Chiron and Dionysus told him so. And, if Nico extends his focus far enough, he can sense Apollo - Lester’s - life force. It’s whittling away, growing smaller and smaller as the months pass.

He doesn’t voice any of that to Will, of course. If he did, Will would break down, crack to pieces. He can’t have that, not since his anxiety attacks have been becoming more frequent. So instead, he’s just been enjoying this time with his boyfriend, trying to take both their minds off the looming danger. He knows there’s more that’s going to happen, but he has no idea how long it will take before things turn to hell again. For the time being, he’s choosing to ignore all the dark possibilities.

Nico, Will, Lou Ellen, Cecil, and Will’s siblings are sitting around the campfire, sticking white marshmallows into the bright orange flames. Will’s arm presses against Nico’s left side, sending shivers through his body, while Kayla’s playing Mythomagic with him on the other. Nico feels warm all over; he’s bursting with love. Everything is perfect. And, for the first time in a while, Nico truly feels at home again. He feels safe in the embrace of people he actually cares about.

Kayla groans as Nico pulls a card to defeat her, and he laughs. “You just need to learn better strategy.”

“Can’t believe I’m being told off by some old guy,” she grumbles.

“This old guy could teach you a thing or two about manners.”

“Oh, great, now he even sounds like one.”

Nico smiles, a warm flood of joy sweeping over his heart. “Okay, just practice. Tomorrow night we can practice again.”

“Whatever, Grandpa Edgelord.” The glimmer of enjoyment sparkles in her eyes and she smiles widely. At the sight of her excitement, butterflies crash against Nico’s stomach. In the past people have only looked at him with the shadow of fear, but seeing that look in Kayla's eyes makes him feel that maybe he does belong now - maybe he does have a place here.

The purple sky overhead dims, turning into a bluish-purple color. Stars begin to poke holes across the plains of the sky and a new breeze brushes past hurriedly. Will shifts closer to Nico, his shoulder brushing against the son of Hades, and superfluous joy pours over Nico.

But he feels something, a buzz in his core. A small burst of darkness erupts in his stomach, and all of a sudden the warmth of the fire and the closeness of Will don’t seem so comforting anymore - they’re suffocating him, pushing him into a corner. His mind begins to hum with a dark energy he hasn’t experienced in a while.

An image bursts into his head, a face with electric blue eyes and light hair and glasses balanced sloppily over his face. It takes a moment for Nico to recognize him, but when he does, his breath hitches.

No.

Nico drops his marshmallow stick and sits up straight. Suddenly the darkness overhead doesn’t seem inviting and lovely; it’s consuming him, filtering into every corner of his body, absorbing into his muscles. He’s caving into himself, giving into the pressure of grief.

Nico’s fingers grip his seat so tight that his knuckles turn white. His chest heaves with every inhalation; he can’t keep the air in his lungs. He can’t breathe. He can’t do anything anymore.

Will turns to him. “Nico?” he asks, concern laced into his voice. “Is everything okay?”

Nico looks up at him, gazes into his blue eyes, at his blond hair. Will looks absolutely nothing like Jason, yet Nico can’t help but to see the son of Zeus’s face on his boyfriend. Guilt crashes into him.

Nico swallows and stands up. “I need to go.” The firelight is too bright; the people are too warm. He needs space.

“What?” Will stands too, his eyebrows furrowed. “What’s wrong? Can I come with you?”

Nico doesn’t answer; he rushes away from the people by the fire, his bare feet sinking into the wet grass. The ache of tears builds up in his throat and a hot ball of emotions shakes up his chest. There’s no way he’s gone, Nico thinks. He can’t be.

He rushes for his cabin, his only refuge from the crashing world around him. Its darkness and solitude beckon to him, call his name, urge him to crawl into the arms of shadows and disappear for a long while.

But footsteps echo behind him and Nico stops in his tracks, turning to whoever dares to follow him on his trip to grief. Will’s racing behind him, his blond curls flying in the air. “Nico!” he calls. “What are you doing? What’s going on?”

“Go,” Nico demands. “Will, just… go back.”

“Back? Nico, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” Will’s voice seems choked, strangled by his own worry. There’s so much emotion in his eyes, so much care, but Nico can’t look at him without thinking of Jason, without thinking of what that buzz in his core meant.

Nico hisses through his teeth. “Jason, please.”

Will blinks. “Jason? I’m Will.” The blond edges closer, his fingers reaching for Nico. “What happened, Nico? You can tell me.”

Nico blanks. Then he shakes his head to clear his mind. “Will, please, just leave. I can’t… I can’t right now.”

The ache building up in his throat turns loose, and a sob echoes from his chest. Tears prickle his eyes and a second later, the world turns blurry. He falls to the ground, letting the water from the grass seep into the fabric of his jeans, slip into his skin. His tears create fractures over his face, and their trails glimmer in the dim lighting.

He’s slipping away, drowning in sorrow. He’s losing himself.

Will rushes towards him and holds his face in his warm hands. “Nico, did someone die?”

Nico pushes Will’s fingers away, afraid that even one gentle touch from him may somehow hurt the blond. “Jason…,” the son of Hades mumbles. “He… I don’t… His life force…”

“Oh.” A blank look flashes in Will’s face, and then his eyebrows rise. “Oh. Oh, gods. Nico-”

Nico shakes his head and pushes himself from Will. He doesn’t want his warmth; he doesn’t want his care. He just wants to be alone. “Will, please, just leave. I need to go. I need… I need… I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.”

Will stands and watches Nico nervously. Behind his eyes, Nico sees the gears turning in his head, the string of worries echoing around. Nico is no mind reader, but he knows Will thinks he’s going to do something dangerous, something damaging.

They lock eyes for a second, and there, in Will’s irises, Nico sees the doubt. He says nothing but Nico can see the thoughts in his head: Don’t do what you did for Bianca. Don’t try to bring him back.

“Do you know for sure?” Will whispers. “Maybe it was just… a false alarm.”

Nico shakes his head. “Maybe it was, but chances are it wasn’t. Will, I can’t feel his life force anymore. I can’t feel him alive anymore.” More sobs rack his body, throw his blood off their track. “Please, Will, just let me go.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with you?” Will asks. “You don’t need to be alone.”

Nico knows Will means well, but his voice only grates against Nico’s ears, trickles annoyance into his veins. Nico closes his eyes to drown out the underlying rage, to calm the red hot anger simmering in his blood.

But Will isn’t leaving. He’s only watching Nico with pity and admiration, and Nico can’t take it.

His body hums with energy, roils with darkness, swirls with anger. There’s a tug in his stomach, a pull, and then the ground underneath him thunders. Before he knows what’s happening, the ground beneath him cracks. Will calls his name, but with the turmoil in his skin and the blood roaring in his ears, Nico can barely hear him.

All he knows is that he wants Will to go, to leave him alone.

“Just… GO,” Nico demands. His voice resonates over the cabins and through the ground, echoing in the air. Rage and grief, sorrow and humiliation all lift into the air, and they envelop the boys in their cold embrace.

The ground shakes more, shivers under Nico’s touch. And then, as if listening to the sound of Nico’s voice, four skeletons crawl out of the abyss, their white faces grinning in the darkness. They all turn their gaze to Will.

Will’s eyes become large, the blue of his irises reflecting his fear. He starts to step back from Nico. The skeletal figures only follow Will, though, no matter how hard he tries to escape them. Their bones clack as they move forward.

“Nico,” he murmurs nervously, “make them stop.”

For a moment, Nico doesn’t understand what’s happening. The earth is spinning and he’s hanging onto his sanity by a thread, barely managing to keep up with the world around him. The only person in his mind is Jason, his face, his voice. Memories of him create a tornado in Nico’s head; they’re memories that Nico won’t be able to get back.

When Will cries, “Nico, please!” only then does the son of Hades realize that his boyfriend is in danger. He blinks and looks up, catching sight of what’s happening. The skeletons are closing around Will, pushing him against a tree, blocking any way out.

Nico’s heart starts going overtime. Is he doing that? Are they moving off his emotions? He tries to reign in his feelings, but there’s too much anger flowing in his system, too many emotions blocking his focus. The skeletons keep edging forward.

One reaches out to Will, grabbing a hold of his sweatshirt, but Will swats the hand away and pulls a bone out from the skeleton's limb. He brandishes it in front of the other three. “Nico, please, get them away from me,” he calls desperately.

Nico balances his hand out and tries to get a grip of control, but he can’t make a connection. They’re out of his reach. Will is out of his reach.

More sobs rack his body, but this time they're from the panic that squeezes his heart. What if he can’t stop the skeletons? What if they beat Will senseless? What if Nico is powerless to stop them?

Nico reaches out again, trying his best to attach an invisible rope from his body to them. His chest aches as more sobs billow out of him, but this time he catches a hold of them. He commands them to stop, and after another moment of terror, they follow his order and dive back into the crack in the ground, disappearing into the abyss they came from.

Nico wishes he could join them in the eternal darkness.

Silence lingers in the air, wrapping around the boys in a vice-like grip around their throats. Will’s watching Nico with big eyes, a sheen of terror glazing over his blue irises. He’s staring at Nico with a look that’s all too familiar - he’s afraid of him. But doesn’t he have a right to be? Nico wonders.

They’re two worlds apart now, drifting away with two different currents. An ocean stands between them. A large new rift separates the boys from one another, sets them into two different worlds altogether.

“Nico.” Will’s voice grates down Nico’s ears like shards of glass. He sounds broken, shattered, helpless.

Nico covers his face. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. Darkness spills from him, sinks into his toes, leaks out from his skin. It pours out to the grass and turns it brown. He’s carrying the aura of death with him. Nico gasps and steps back, but the brown follows him wherever he steps.

He looks to Will again and holds his hands to his mouth. He can only hope Will sees the sincerity in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispers again.

Then he runs off, leaving a trail of dead grass each step he goes, longing for the comfort of solitude and despair.

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iwrestlenow · 3 years

Text

Many More To Die, Chapter 9

TITLE: Many More To Die (Chapter 9)

FANDOM: Sanders Sides (Necromancer AU)

SUMMARY: Logan tries to find another memory, and comes back with something bigger. Virgil opens up to Remus. More facts about the night of Logan's arrest come to light.

And Janus is definitely out to kill the necromancer--but Roman learns something unexpected when he discovers this plan.

SHIPS: Logince (Logan/Roman), Moceit (Patton/Janus) and future Dukexiety (Remus/Virgil)

WARNINGS: ...so I felt bad about the cliffhanger. >.> XD

Also, I forgot to mention in the last chapter that the words 'pari' and 'geni' were gender neutral terms I created for this world for Logan's parents. They're twisted up with Latin roots for 'parent' or 'creator' because his folks are nonbinary.

Extra apologies for this one because no beta and I just got eager and wrote this in one day. Send help. XD

NOTES: This is based on the gorgeous piece of art by @gretacticdraws that can be found here. I ended up writing a ficlet for it, and then my brain got swallowed up. Breathe at me wrong, and I’ll write more…hell, who am I kidding? I’ll write more anyway because this? Is self indulgent drivel. XD

Also located at AO3 over here.

1033, A.A.

The first thing Logan noticed when he woke was the heat. Even with all the little luxuries he earned as a well behaved prisoner, he never woke up warm.

The memories were slow to trickle back to him through the haze of sleep, gentle rain splashing against the surface of his mind.

The assassination. The Green Man. The new quarters, his first private shower in ten years—soft spun cotton lounge clothes instead of the rough, drab, ill fitting uniform of the dungeon's prisoners.

Gentle fingers filled with strength laced securely through his. Strong arms, warm skin...

Logan opened his eyes, and found himself with his face tucked against the curve of a neck. Lifting his head with great reluctance, he found himself faced with a sleeping Roman.

The beauty of it nearly stopped his heart.

Loss had stripped some light from his features, worn them around the edges and haunted his eyes, but in repose his features were smooth and unburdened. He looked younger, surreal in his serene perfection. Something about the act of watching Roman sleep felt important...precious, even familiar...

Roman stirred then, and Logan acted without thinking, reaching out to smooth his fingers through Roman's hair. It was soft against his fingers, warm and silken and he repeated the gesture just for the pleasure of feeling it.

“...'lo?...”

“Hello, Roman.”

Roman hummed, and the arm Logan only just realized was wrapped around his shoulders tightened, pulling him closer against Roman's side.

“Lo.” he murmured, more confidently this time as he opened bright green eyes. “You're here.”

“It appears I fell asleep after our discussion. Apologies.” Logan replied, but could put no real conviction into the words. Something inside him...ached in a beautiful way he couldn't give words to. He didn't know what it meant...

For just a split second, his vision blurred, and Roman was younger, smaller, dark hair lightened by too much time in the sun...

...Logan's mind grew fuzzy again, but not with sleep. He recognized the feeling now, the haze of magic that let him reconnect to Virgil, to a fragment of his past...

The Loom of Memory. Roman spoke about it last night, telling his stories about them as friends—as kindred spirits.

“Logan?...”

Logan shifted to lay on his back, reaching for Roman's hand.

“Virgil restored one of my memories through a piece of personal magic I embedded in an object of power.” he explained, speech slurring just a little as his eyes grew heavier. “If...you took part in a ritual to give me...my power...”

“The Warping.” Roman murmured, rolling on his side. Gripping Logan's fingers tight, he looked down into Logan's face. Something about it tugged at the back of Logan's chest, something that was pulling him back into darkness again.

He could fight the pull. He did not try.

Gripping Roman's hand tight, Logan let his eyes shut.

“Hold on...do not let go.”

As he sank, Logan distantly felt warm lips brush his forehead.

“I never have. I never will.”

********** ...threads. Everywhere, itching, brushing, bothersome. This time, he pulled away from them, just a little. He flexed his fingers, and the shuttle was there, secure in his grip.

He tried to concentrate on seeing it this time. Pulling back, stepping away.

…there.

The loom was massive, the warp glowing softly with a gentle radiance that begged to be touched. Running his fingers over it, Logan sighed with pleasure—warm and whisper soft beneath his fingers, spreading through his hand and up his arm to settle in the core of his being....but loose.

The warp was too loose. Just a little tension was needed for a neat, tight weave.

Logan reached out to try and tighten the warp, but...something was wrong.

“...Logan?”

Who's there?

“Logan, it's me.”

...oh. I...

“Do you need help?”

I—I think so. I don't understand what's happening.

“It's okay—to be honest, I didn't understand then and I still don't. Just take what you need.”

I'll be careful this time.

“Don't worry about it. Just...don't leave me.”

I promise. In fact...will you stay?

“Stay? I...is that all right?”

I do not know—but there's only one way to find out. Help me, if you can.

He tugged gently at the thread—this time, it came smooth and easy. It was hard to do still—simply because it was so distracting, the ecstasy of handling it, letting the warp slide through his fingers and tug sweetly as he secured it to the loom—

When he was done, when it was ready...Logan set to work.

********** 1023, A.A.

Logan was so warm and so comfortable, he never wanted to wake up...but he knew he had to, for some reason.

Opening his eyes with a yawn, he turned his head—then grinned when he realized that Roman stayed.

There was something about seeing him in Logan's bedroom that felt secret and special: Roman, his Roman, with his face half buried in Logan's pillow and mouth slightly open as he slept. It wasn't a pretty sight: he drooled just a little, and he was laying on Logan, one arm and one leg thrown across his body, something he usually hated...

But Logan could feel his weight, his warmth. He was messy and heavy and too much...and he was tucked into Logan's bed, his fingers meshed tight through Logan's to rest on Logan's chest. This handsome prince, this good and loving and dangerously earnest boy that wanted with a ferocity that scared and dazzled Logan, eluded palace guard and the king himself just to help him. Just to stay.

Roman was everything good and just and right in the world. However, Roman was also two years older than him, he was royalty—and Logan was Necromata.

Secret and special was all Logan was ever going to get.

Staring into Roman's sleeping face for a few more precious seconds, he tucked the memory away somewhere safe in his mind and his heart before he gently squeezed Roman's hand.

“Roman?”

“Nnnnngh.”

“Roman. It's morning.”

“Nnnngh—guh? What?”

Roman came awake abruptly, and Logan's heart trembled at the muzzy confusion in his face. It made him want confusing, unattainable things, so Logan settled for smiling.

“It's morning. Sunrise—are you still okay?”

Roman nodded with a jaw cracking yawn, further upsetting Logan's already fragile, confusing state of mind by tucking himself forward until their foreheads touched. “Yeah, 'm fine. Remus'll cover for me 'till at least after breakfast. You?”

Unable to stop himself, Logan tucked their joined hands against his chest for a second, sealing the feel of it as deep as he could into his memory as he nodded. “Grandpap won't be back until tomorrow, and Pari lets me skip my morning chores if I'm studying.”

“Which you are, technically.” Roman pointed out with a smile, staring into Logan's eyes.

“Falsehood. I'm laying about in bed.”

Roman seemingly had no answer for that, and didn't respond—but also didn't move.

Logan couldn't bring himself to urge him into action.

“Where did we leave off last night?”

“Hmm?”

“The geneaology. How far did we get?” Roman pressed gently, a laugh in his voice that made Logan's heart tremble again.

Taking a deep breath, Logan managed to pry himself from the sanctuary of his spot tucked into the curve of Roman's body. Sitting up, he reached for the last book they'd been reading through before they gave up their research for sleep.

“We got as far back as King Thomas Cameron IV—the one who married the first Lord and Lady Stewards.” Logan explained, flipping to the right page. “They reorganized the line of succession for same sex and polyfidelitous families within the royal house of Sanders.”

“Right, right...Lady Valerie was the great granddaughter of Sir Edward, fifth cousin of King Thomas Roman I.” Roman mumbled, sitting up to peer at the book in Logan's hands. “Least the stories say.”

Logan fought a swelling of frustration as he flipped ahead a few pages. “Most of these are stories. Stories, lore, and speculation. There's no proof here—and there are a lot of missing records, which I find strange for a royal lineage.”

“Well, Father had some records sealed for privacy.” Roman admitted. “That's how I knew about Sir Edward. He was a mage of some power, but his family withdrew from the monarchy generations ago. They're no longer part of the line of succession, so their presence exists only in the Tomes.”

Logan hesitated, shutting the book in his hands. “The mage's histories? The ones kept at the Royal Academy library?”

“Yep—well, most of them.”

Logan looked at Roman sharply. “What do you mean, most of them?”

Roman's eyes went wide as he froze. Logan's pulse quickened.

“Roman? What do you know?”

Roman looked, for a moment, like he wanted to bolt...but then took a deep breath, gathered Logan's hands in his, and began speaking.

********** 1033, A.A.

Logan's eyes snapped open as the Loom dropped abruptly away, leaving him with an ache in the marrow of his bones and a chill he couldn't quite dispel. As he sat up, warm arms immediately encircled him, tucking him against a wall of fire that eased the chill and soothed the hurt away.

“Logan? Say something—are you all right?”

For a second, Logan just leaned into him and shut his eyes. It wasn't complete, vague and nebulous and full of holes, but a new memory was hanging loose in his head, barely attached. He could almost picture the room, a few snatches of conversation...but the feeling was the only part he was sure of.

Secret and special...good and right...

I loved him.

“Logan, please. What happened?”

Logan pressed his forehead against Roman's collarbone for just one more second, the sweet pulse of longing rippling through his bones, igniting an energy that was alien to him.

I love him.

“I am satisfactory.” he assured Roman, slowly straightening. He reached up to rub his head. “I...slept here last night?”

Roman nodded, his hand settling on Logan's shoulder, warm and heavy. “You don't remember waking up?”

“I...maybe? I was...the Loom.”

“You entered that trance again—you asked for my help, and I gave it. Like I did during your Warping, but this time my hand was glowing—like the last time you were channeling. You wanted to reconstruct a memory, did you succeed?”

Logan nodded, then shook his head.

Books...Grandpap...sun bleached hair, a special and secret cocoon in his childhood bed.

Flinching, Logan fumbled for Roman's hand, ripping it off his shoulder and squeezing hard.

“Roman.”

“I'm here, Starlight—what do you remember?”

“I...don't know. Just—my brother.”

“Virgil's not here.”

“I have to find him. Now.”

********** Virgil was going on twenty four hours wide, staring awake, and wasn't enjoying it.

Well...much.

Reluctantly following the crown prince through the lower levels of the castle, he hated to admit that for all his crazy, Prince Remus was kind of a fascinating guy. He was smart, yeah, but—more than that.

He was brilliant, in a way that was frightening. He babbled with barely any coherence, went off on tangents, talked to himself, but there wasn't a single wasted word. He talked about his brother with perfect devotion, discussed violence with absolute reverence, and spoke about death like...

Like he was Necromata. In between the stories he shared during the night—stories about Roman's secrets, three years of carrying on an ilicit friendship with Logan—he went off about Virgil's people with a flawless understanding of who they were and what they were about.

All while revealing, with all his stolen knowledge, that he didn't know jack shit about them. Everything he ever learned was heresay and speculation, but...but through the stories he saw the foundation. Remus was a quintessential outsider, but the respect he showed for the Necromata made Virgil ache inside.

Fuck, Remus actually gave him a little hope for the future.

“This way—this is where I found Roman after it happened.”

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Virgil jogged to catch up with Remus. “We don't have a lot of time, Remus—Logan is supposed to try and resurrect your father this morning.”

“Yeah, yeah—we have an hour, I know.”

“Two.”

“What?”

“Two. The sun will be well above the horizon then—doesn't do anyone any favors to be too prompt when it comes to making sure the Barrier is closed, unless you want to end up with someone else in your father's body.”

Remus glanced at Virgil over his shoulder—then snickered.

“Could be funny.” he decided, ushering Virgil ahead of him. “Through this door—this is where I found Roman the night your brother was arrested.”

“Where was he? I never realized he was anywhere near us when we got caught.” Virgil huffed, shoving the filthy, heavy wooden door open to emerge into a dingy stone tunnel.

“Before this castle had lower levels beneath this one, this was meant to be a sewer.” Remus explained as Virgil took a few more steps into the tunnel. “It's on some early plans for the palace, but hardly anyone remembers it's here. I got nosy when I was six and found it—Roman and I have used this to get in and out of the palace undetected since we were little.”

“He must've told Logan.” Virgil muttered, peering up at the grate overhead. Above him, through the bars he could see scattered straw—the inside of an empty dungeon cell. “That's how he got us in here.”

“You were here that night?”

Virgil turned to face Remus, smiling a little without any humor in it. “He didn't tell you about that, huh?”

Remus shook his head in silence.

Virgil scoffed, turning his gaze upwards again.

“Not all that surprised. Hell, maybe he didn't know I was here, either. I wasn't supposed to be...truth be told, I was always certain that I was the reason Logan got arrested. It's why I tried to get him out.”

“What were you, four years old? What were you doing here, and how could you have been behind it?”

“I was nine.” Virgil replied quietly, unable to tear his gaze from the grate of the cell above him.

“And I was here because a Weaver needs his Spider.”

********** 1023, A.A. The tunnel was absolutely terrifying—dark and wide and squat. Grandpap would have to double over to walk through it, big as he was.

Virgil did not want to be here. He wanted to be home in bed with his blanket, listening to Grandpap's bedtime stories about the Before Times and the wicked king that was slain, plunging their tribe into eternal darkness.

Logan was here, though—and a Spider had to stand with his Weaver. Protecting Logan was his responsibility now, and he couldn't let his big brother down.

“...find the book in the office...”

Voices, up ahead. Echoes carried down towards him, making Virgil flinch hard enough that he stumbled and fell.

Silence. More voices, garbled and echoing...

A hand on his collar, dragging him to his feet.

“Virgil, what in the name of the Seven Hells are you doing here!”

When Virgil landed upright, he came face to face with the shadowed features of his big brother, blue eyes glimmering in the barely there light.

“What are you doing here, Logan?” Virgil shot back. “You snuck out without me! You're 'posed to bring me on important stuff, I'm your 'Pider!”

Logan spun around, as if he were about to address someone—but then froze. His shoulders hunched the way they always did when he forgot to thank the spirits of the ancestors at his altar every morning, nervous and unhappy.

Turning back to Virgil, Logan narrowed his eyes.

“This isn't Weaver stuff, Stormcloud, so you can't tell anyone. Especially not Grandpap.”

“I swear on the 'Pider's Thread, Loganberry.”

Taking a deep breath, Logan nodded. “Okay...okay, you can come. You'll actually be helpful to find...never mind. Just do as I say, and don't ask questions. I can't answer them?”

“Why?”

Logan raised a warning finger at him.

“Don't. Ask. Questions.”

Virgil slammed his mouth shut, but didn't argue as Logan took his hand and led him down the tunnel and into the palace of the king.

********** 1033, A.A.

“What part of the palace did you hit?” Remus asked.

Virgil shrugged. “Not sure. It was dark, I was nine and terrified...I've tried to track it since I enlisted, but haven't had much luck. All I know is it was somewhere in the lower levels 'cause that's how I found the tunnel and got away. Wasn't near the dungeons either, not really—when we got caught, Logan steered me towards a lit, open door. It was some kind of office, and I found an open grate that led me to it.”

Virgil faced Remus again, pointing upwards. “This is under the dungeons, but you said this was where you found Roman after Logan's arrest?”

“Yup.” Remus replied, popping the 'p' sound at the end. “Near the end of this particular tunnel, down here.”

Virgil glanced behind him, in the direction Remus pointed, Turning back to the prince, he jerked his chin in that direction.

“Let's go.”

The pair fell into step beside each other, easily matching pace. Remus was a little taller than Virgil, so he was slowing down to let him keep up. Virgil didn't appreciate it.

He didn't.

“You know, Roman didn't help you get in here. I did.”

Virgil turned sharply towards him. “You're fucking with me.”

“Identical twins? In a poorly lit room, you can't make out the streak and the 'stache, Sweet Cheeks.”

“But...why?”

“Because you were trying to help your brother, and mine couldn't. Help you, that is.”

“Why couldn't he? Why did he admit to doing it?” Virgil asked.

“Did he actually admit to anything last night?” Remus asked with a raised eyebrow.

Virgil opened his mouth...then closed it.

“Not outright, no.” he realized aloud. “But why couldn't he help?”

“Virgil!”

The sound of that voice, echoing off the walls of the tunnel, was a flashback in time. For an instant, Virgil was nine and terrified again, being led into Souls Knew What by his big brother...running for his life and trying not to choke on his sobs, knowing he'd left his big brother to die.

Spinning on his heel, Virgil found himself faced with the sight of the tunnel's end where he and Remus had been heading anyway. The door was open, and Logan stood side by side with the familiar figure of King Roman.

At least, until Logan bolted forward, barreling towards Virgil until he had a death grip on him.

“Unghf! Loganberry, you're...crushing me...”

“He panicked as soon as we got down here.” Roman explained, raising his voice to be heard as he jogged towards them. “He's been off since he woke up earlier. He tried to reconstruct a memory...”

Virgil sighed, wrapping his arms around Logan for a second to give him a comforting squeeze before he shifted to reach for Logan's hand.

“C'mere, Loganberry...lemme help you...”

The moment their fingers meshed, Virgil felt the pull on his consciousness—Logan drawing on his focus, pulling raw thought from his head that sent his awareness of his surroundings spiraling into a pinpoint.

Virgil's eyes slid shut, his head lolling back in familiar fashion—but this time, before the darkness took him, warmth flooded the base of his skull and softened his tumble into oblivion.

********** “Hey—hey! Wake up, Storm!”

“Remus.”

Roman watched his brother stand beside the silent cadet, one hand on his shoulder and the other cradling his head, supporting him as he half sagged where he stood. There was a look in his eyes Roman wasn't sure he'd ever seen before, something like panic...but not quite.

It was familiar...but fuzzy.

Moving to his brother's side, Roman touched his shoulder.

“He's all right, Remus.”

“How do you know?”

“Because this is what familiars do. I've...seen it before.”

Roman blinked, startled by the words that came out of his mouth—but once he said them, he knew it was true. He had seen it before...somewhere among Logan's people, but where?...

“What are you four doing down here?”

Roman looked back towards the direction Remus and Virgil had come from, flinching when he spotted Janus at the end of the tunnel with Patton at his side.

“Lord Janus? Pat—what are you doing here?” he asked, moving towards the pair.

“I came 'cause Janny asked me to.” Patton replied, staring past Roman to where Logan and Virgil stood, deep blue eyes filled with worry. “What's goin' on? Janny?...”

With a sigh, Janus discreetly slid a hand up Patton's spine, only just visible as yellow gloved fingertips appeared near his nape then vanished with a soft whisper of leather on fabric.

“Go, darling. See if you can help.” Janus urged.

Reaching behind him, Roman saw Patton catch the gloved hand and squeeze before he hurried down the tunnel towards the trio of Remus, Logan, and Virgil.

Facing Janus, Roman folded his arms. “You didn't answer my question.”

Janus glanced past Roman, seemingly unable to tear his gaze from Patton for a long moment before he finally managed to set his gaze on Roman.

“I'm an assassin. I'm not supposed to tell you why I do anything, Your Majesty.” Janus pointed out.

“So you're here to kill someone?”

Janus sneered, mouth setting into a thin, tight line.

“If you must know,” he growled quietly, “I came here to kill the necromancer.”

Roman's heart froze, blood running cold.

“No, you're not.”

“Majesty? Get your hands off me. Now.”

Roman blinked, not even realizing that he'd backed Janus up against the nearby wall, and to his shock had a hand wrapped around his scaled throat.

“Give me a reason why I should.” he asked flatly. “You'll have a harder time getting to the necromancer if you have to stop and kill me first.”

“Oh, for the love of—I'm here to kill the necromancer, not your pet prisoner!”

“I...what?”

“The necromancer that assassinated your father and is trying to assassinate you.” Janus spat, finally shaking Roman's grip so he could straighten his cloak.

“I...don't understand.”

Janus finally tugged the clasp of his cloak straight, and when he met Roman's gaze, his own mismatched eyes were filled with something far warmer than any man might expect to see in the eyes of a spy like him.

Janus was looking at him with sympathy.

“Your Majesty...Logan may be one of the Necromata, but he is not a necromancer.” he whispered.

“Of course he is! He--”

“--may have been a necromancer once upon a time, but he isn't any longer. The root of necromancy is memory—with no memory, he should have no magic. No mere necromancer can beat the Cleansing that way, it's impossible.”

“Then...?”

Roman turned away from Janus to stare down the tunnel. He watched Virgil and Logan both slowly come to their senses, Logan opening ice blue eyes as Virgil started to straighten, supported by both Remus and Patton.

Over Virgil's shoulder, Logan's gaze met Roman's, and for just a moment those gemstone eyes flickered with the soft, blue-white light of his magic.

Janus's voice spoke right next to his ear, shaking him to his core.

“Logan is not a necromancer, Your Majesty...he's a Lazari.”

#logince #moceit #sanders sides #logan sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #necromancer au #my name is liz and i swear to god i'll fic again #this is all the artist's fault i'm just a hapless writer that stumbled across it #fic

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

Text

TLTNL- THE DEATH EATERS

Sirius had lived through a lot of crap in his life, some real life shattering moments, but the act of forcing himself to read about the return of Voldemort, when he technically hadn't even fallen yet so they'd never even been allowed to live in that lifespan of peace like Harry had, really was doing something to his psyche as he got started.

Voldemort looked away from Harry and began examining himself. His hands were like large, pale spiders.

Harry almost longed for Sirius or someone trying to crack a joke during all of this, it would make what he was hearing feel even slightly better, his first thought that someone could have made a mention of how Ron would hate Voldemort just for that fact alone, but humor was going to be hard to come by until Harry was out of this danger.

All his other features were as inhuman as well, pale and more serpent like than ever. He took no notice of Wormtail continuing to sob at his feet, still bleeding from his stump.

'As much as he deserves, he's got a fate worse than Quirrell's coming up,' Remus viciously thought to himself.

The large snake from Harry's dreams wasn't given much notice either as it continued slithering across the ground.

Voldemort put one of those unnatural hands into his pocket and came back with a wand, which he caressed with his new fingers.

Lily gathered from that act that this must indeed be Voldemort's own wand, the one with the phoenix core he shared with Harry's. It took a moment for Lily to even push past her disgust at all the cruel things that wand had done to her, James, and what felt like everyone she ever loved, to even try to guess where it had even come from, until she remembered who'd been tending to Voldemort this whole time. Lily couldn't help but wonder for the first time if that rat had possibly made an appearance at their house that fateful Halloween night as well, if he'd come across the body of Voldemort and taken possession of his wand for safe keeping, or perhaps even a level of power, and then hid it away before he went underground as Scabbers. It didn't even seem that far fetched, as he hadn't a wand on him that night he'd been confronted by Sirius and Remus, so he'd held this one as a backup all these years. At the same time as she realized that though, it also meant he would have had to cross James's body, and she hoped in the blackest way possible that had hurt him. To see what he'd cost in deceiving a man who still didn't want to believe the worst in him after everything.

The first act he performed was to point it at Wormtail, who sailed back into the headstone

James held a remarkable look on his face as he heard that, somewhere between demented humor that this was Peter's reward from Voldemort himself, and still some grains of wondering when he'd finally show regret for his decision.

and again crumpled in pain, begging his master to help him, to keep his promise.

Voldemort indeed asked for his arm, but when he held up the stump hopefully, Voldemort pushed that aside and instead tried to snatch the other one. Wormtail again whimpered and pleaded his Master to help him,

Sirius got through that exchange like an executioner reading out the final charges. It really was easier to think of this cretin as some corpse going through these motions rather than someone he'd once put such trust in, put his own life in those hands, one of which was now gone in a willingly given gesture for these actions to be occurring.

but Voldemort ignored this and pushed back the sleeves of his unbloodied sleeve. There Harry spotted something branded into the skin, the same image that had hovered in the sky the night of the World Cup, the Dark Mark.

Voldemort pressed one of his long white fingers into it, and Harry's scar imploded with pain again.

Remus' mind flashed back through all the mentions of Snape and Karkaroff talking about something on their arm, and then to find the same thing now on that foul little rat, it couldn't really be a coincidence. But what was it exactly?

Voldemort straitened with satisfaction, murmuring to himself that now he would know the brave to return,

Lily had not a clue what was going on, what Voldemort was doing, nor where on earth that tattoo had come from. What she did gather was the fact that it seemed to be some sort of calling symbol, and that meant even more bad news was about to arrive.

and those foolish enough to stay away.

Harry was rubbing at his forearm thoughtfully, some lingering thoughts floating just beyond his conscious mind of how he felt about those questions.

Voldemort began pacing across Harry's field of vision, his ruby eyes again falling on the gagged teenager as he informed him that Harry stood upon the bones of his late father. Much like Harry's mother

James had already grown up hating Voldemort through his life, but in that moment where he actually referred to Lily, James wanted to see him dead more than ever. No one got to talk about his wife like that!

both had died but held their uses.

"Uses?" Lily spat in disgust. "I lived trying to protect my son, that's more than he'll ever understand."

Lily Potter had died defending her son,

Sirius would forever hate himself for having to say that, and still having even the slightest bit been involved in that happening, but then he conjured back the image of telling his wasteful parents that their precious Voldemort was in fact a half-blood with parent issues, and it gave him enough breath back to keep going.

and Voldemort had killed his father,

"So it was Voldemort who killed Riddle and his own grandparents," Remus marveled, wondering why he was even shocked. There were some questions in there he was curious about, like why, but this was Voldemort he was thinking about, he'd never really needed much of a reason to kill anybody, especially Muggles, certainly ones he was related too would be eliminated at Voldemort's earliest convenience.

and look how useful he'd been in his death.

Harry rubbed at his forehead a bit at that, there was a significance to what Voldemort had said about a father being useful in death...his eyes flickered to his own and away, he didn't like to think of his dad as dead in any sense even if it might have been helpful to him in his past.

Voldemort gave a soft laugh again as he continued his pacing, that snake still circling in the grass below mimicking his movement.

"I want to know what's with that thing?" James muttered of no one, anything to keep the feeling alive that they were hearing of this in the room rather than having to think about Harry living it. "They were only using its weird venom to keep Voldemort alive, yet he named it didn't he. What's so special about this snake?"

"I'm not really that surprised," Remus shrugged, "Voldemort claims to be the descendant of the Great Salazar Slytherin, I can easily picture him with some snake for a pet now."

"I can't picture him with anything resembling a pet," Lily disagreed, "he doesn't have the capacity to take care of a goldfish."

"We should just be thankful it's whatever this is, and not a basilisk," Sirius muttered.

Harry wasn't that grateful for his dad's comment, that annoying feeling cropping up again of an answer that should have been there. There was indeed something very significant about Nagini he just wasn't remembering.

Voldemort began telling Harry his story, how his own father had lived just over on that hill. His mother had lived in the village and fell in love, but Riddle had abandoned her when he found out what she was, his father hadn't liked magic.

"Oh joy, just what I always wanted, more Voldemort backstory," Sirius groused.

Lily on the other hand couldn't help but picture someone else saying this, someone who was now in Voldemort's ranks himself. Snape had made many of the same comments about his own father from time to time. It never failed to sadden her just how much alike her old friend and Voldemort seemed to be, far more than Snape and her had ever had in common it seemed.

He'd abandoned her while pregnant and not looked back, and she'd died giving birth to him, leaving him in an orphanage with the foul name of Tom Riddle, of the very same man who he now vowed revenge on.

Remus shook his head in disgust the longer this dragged on. "While no one's arguing the guy's an arse for trying to abandon his kid, I'm still struggling to wrap my head around how this turned him into the greatest evil in our world. And now I'm even wondering why he was named after his father, did the orphanage find out about that name through the mother before she died and gave it to him, because it's not like that Riddle seemed to have a say in it."

"You are reading far too much into this," Sirius sighed. "Just hate him and start plotting ways to stop this from happening like the rest of us."

Voldemort seemed to catch himself as he realized he was becoming sentimental,

"There's one thing I don't think anyone in the world's ever called that megalomaniac," James rolled his eyes.

recounting his life story for Potter, but now his real family was arriving.

Sirius sneered at the word family, absolutely convinced that Voldemort had no clue what that meant any more than the pathetic rat he employed.

The air was filled with the swishing of cloaks in long black attire and all faces covered as they Apparated as one. For a moment none moved, frozen in shock, until one finally shuffled forward, and flung itself at Voldemort's feet, kissing the hem of his robes.

Remus was flickering through all the known Death Eaters he'd heard about, and any one of them were considered so full of themselves it really was laughable whichever one it was groveling like that, making it all the more unbelievable they bowed to anyone, even Voldemort.

Soon they were all doing it, until Voldemort waved his hands that was enough, and then they all backed away and formed a circle around them with some noticeable gaps. Leaving Voldemort and Harry in the center, and a sobbing Wormtail still curled on the ground.

James wanted to ask Harry exactly how many there were, but he was honestly already faint at the idea of just how outnumbered his son was. The question had only occurred to him because he was pissed of how many free Death Eaters were out there. They'd known of some numbers, but this felt ridiculous that the Ministry hadn't been able to get so many of Voldemort's inner circle.

Voldemort didn't seem to be expecting anymore, as he began addressing them all by reminding them of how long it had been. Thirteen years, and they came to his call as if nothing had changed, still united.

Then he inhaled deeply, those blood-red eyes taking in all those around him as he stated he smelt their guilt.

Sirius had the mad desire to laugh. The way Voldemort was speaking to them, it all felt as theatrical as possible. He'd had a sense back when he'd been dealing with that odd diary that Voldemort had a grandiose idea of himself, but to be speaking like this really did just put a spin on how ridiculous the man sounded.

Voldemort stood before these men, healthy and free, and Voldemort asked himself why none before him had aided their master before this night.

Remus made a thrumming noise in his throat of deep curiosity as well, while not in the same light as Voldemort he did wonder the same. Like Sirius, he did wonder what exactly drew these people to Voldemort, if it was all to gain a bit of power than they should have been actively looking for the man who could give that back to them. Yet it had been a rat to find him and make this possible. This either meant he wasn't hard to find by Death Eater standards, or more likely since Dumbledore hadn't been able to find this husk, the rat had simply been the dedicated one to figure it out. His thoughts went back to that Pensive, of that deranged woman screaming about how Voldemort would reward her for being so loyal, and he was starting to wonder if in her own twisted way she'd been right. Voldemort was surely ticked at all of these that had been free and not spent every waking hour before now to make this moment happen.

No one spoke. No one moved except Wormtail, who was upon the ground, still sobbing over his bleeding arm.

Every time that was mentioned Sirius somehow still managed to add an extra layer of menace into his voice, even listening to all this Voldemort crap he still managed to somehow hate this most of all.

Voldemort answered his own question, how his followers had believed him broken and gone. They'd slipped back to society pleading ignorance and bewitchment.

"I'd make a joke about how talking to himself has made him go as mad as Crouch has, but I guess we already knew that ship has sailed," James huffed.

"There's still a chance he's gone even more up the ladder," Lily reminded, "getting blasted out of your body most likely does something to your mental health as well."

"I'm so sure Voldemort cares deeply about this," Remus rolled his eyes at the pair even if he did manage a smile, they're comments really did seem to be helping Harry as a constant reminder that they were here for him.

He returned by asking himself why they would believe such a thing? When he'd shown them all the steps he'd taken to defeat mortality.

Sirius narrowed his eyes curiously at that, hoping that if this monologuing was going to continue, at least Voldemort could go into details about this part. Sirius wanted to know what exactly those steps were, they'd clearly been the thing to keep him alive against a rebounding Killing Curse.

They'd seen his proof of becoming mightier than any alive being.

"I can not get over how full of himself he is," Lily shook her head with a twist of her lips. "I'm now grateful that in the times where he's fought our side he's never tried to monologue during it."

"Though if he had, we'd have this problem nipped by now," James pointed out, "so maybe that's how we get rid of this guy, try to get him talking about himself."

"I'll make a list of conversation starters," Sirius rolled his eyes at the pair.

He again answered himself that his loyal followers could have perhaps traded allegiance to that of their enemy, Dumbledore.

His circle shivered as one, some even murmured this not to be true, but still they were ignored as Voldemort continued speaking to himself about how disappointed he was.

"First bit of good news I've heard all night," Remus grumbled.

"Wish he'd stay that way," Sirius agreed.

One man collapsed to his knees again, begging his Master to forgive them, forgive them all.

Voldemort's response was to use Crucio on him.

The Death Eater writhed on the ground, shreking in agony, while Harry was left silently begging for someone nearby to have heard.

Lily's arm kept tightening around her baby all the time, sure she'd never gripped anything so tight in her life to assure herself Harry was right here beside her now, not being forced to live through this again any more than he had to. Pity didn't quite define what she felt for her baby. She completely understood his desperate desire for help to arrive, but she had no doubts that not a soul actually knew where he was, and no Muggle could do a thing for him.

Voldemort lifted his curse, and commanded Avery to get back to his feet. Voldemort would not be forgiving anyone until they repaid their thirteen years of service owed.

"I'm hoping you won't live past the next thirteen minutes," Sirius snapped, "so Avery's not going to get his chance."

Another high pitched sob drew Voldemort's attention back to Wormtail, admitting to himself that at least this one had already started on that path. Reminding him that he deserved this pain-

James was trembling, whether in rage or despair no one was sure, for that being so irrevocably true and he still wanted more than anything for it to not be.

to which Wormtail moaned in agreement even while still begging his Master to help him.

Remus was starting to get concerned about letting Sirius continue like this, it just couldn't be good for his health, or throat, to keep reading about that in the most violent way possible, but as it was the only release Sirius could find instead of murdering that rat like he deserved, Remus wasn't going to be the one to stop him.

Voldemort nodded to himself, saying that while worthless, Wormtail had been of service, and Voldemort rewarded that.

Lily already realized that rat had broken her list of people who needed to be purged from her life, but now every time she was forced to see the reaction it gave James it was still somehow made worse every time.

Voldemort gave another flick of his wand, and something silver materialized in the air, which sunk down to Wormtail's level and developed into a fist over his stump. His sobbing finally ceasing, Wormtail sat up and inspected the now gleaming metal, flexing his fingers in surprise.*

The fact that he was actually being rewarded really did somehow feel like the worst part. Like their friendship, this family, all the times they'd shared over the past years of their life hadn't been enough for him, and he'd gone crawling to everything they'd ever stood against, and somehow he actually still hadn't shown an ounce of remorse for his choice.

He remained on the ground for a moment longer as he began kissing the hem of his Master's robes, thanking him for such a thing.

Sirius didn't care how long he lived, that image would forever be branded into his brain and he couldn't ever peel it away no matter how much it hurt, how much he still didn't want it to be true and still wanted to end his life before any of this could begin.

Voldemort told Wormtail that this was a sign Wormtail would never again question his loyalties, to which was instantly agreed.

For some reason something of what Dumbledore had once said tried to come floating back to the surface of Harry's mind, something about how Harry actually would one day be thankful that Wormtail was so heavily involved in all of this. Harry believed that now more than ever as he heard about this hand.

Wormtail finally got to his feet and entered the circle, while Voldemort began addressing more individuals, starting with Lucius.

"Wow, so we were right, Malfoy is part of the inner circle," Lily huffed, her own mind still distracted, caught on the never ending realization they'd all been suffering through that one of their own was now a part of the same thing.

Voldemort began with reproach, asking how someone who had made it so high in the Ministry's rankings had never come to his Lord's aid.

Malfoy swore he'd always kept a watchful ear out, if ever he'd heard the slightest sound of his Master's return he would have been there-

"Is it wrong to say I'm actually enjoying listening to him beg like this," Sirius got out through gritted teeth, the opposite of looking like he was enjoying any part of this.

Nobody responded, they weren't entirely sure how much of a joke that was supposed to be, as well as Sirius could find his own pleasure in whatever he needed right now anyways so they wouldn't tell him off for it regardless.

Voldemort cut him off by reminding he'd fled when the Mark had been cast in the sky.

Mr. Malfoy instantly stopped his speech.

"I can not get over the fact that Harry's referring to him as Mr. Malfoy," Remus directed at Lily, hoping the friendly reminder of when Harry had first met Hagrid would make even one slight worry line disappear from her face.

Voldemort told how disappointed he was in this, and expected more faithful service in the future.

Harry wondered why he thought he should have a feeling about that, some sense of something telling him the Malfoy line and Voldemort's service could hold something to him...

Voldemort moved on from him then, where a double space could have housed two people. Voldemort stared as if he still saw them there, murmuring to himself about the Lestranges.

Sirius' hard face managed to give an extra spasm of hatred at the reminder of his family. He already knew what had become of one of his cousins, Narcissa had married a Malfoy and he was honestly surprised she hadn't been mentioned right along with Lucius, and he'd heard rumors of what Bellatrix had become, if he wasn't mistaken this was in fact her new last name. Only Andromeda had made anything good of herself, at least he hoped she'd stayed that way in all these years.

He knew of their life in Azkaban, how they were there because they had not renounced their ways, and Voldemort swore when Azkaban was broken they would be honored for this.

Remus shook his head in disgust, thinking back to that Pensive and that woman who had believed this same thing. Guess she had been right, though with any luck she was long dead, it would certainly serve her right. They had no confirmation if Crouch's son had been involved in what happened to the Longbottoms, but she certainly hadn't done a thing to make it seem she hadn't otherwise, so Azkaban was a rightful resting place for a wretched being like that.

Then he mentioned how easy this would be with the dementors joining their side,

"I believe that," James shivered, "Dumbledore's always said it's a miracle they haven't deserted us already, the majority of them have. I keep hearing fewer numbers are keeping their prison in check all the time."

"Well we need a new prison anyways," Lily snapped, "so good riddance to them."

as well as the giants and all manner of dark creatures.

Remus gave a particularly vicious shiver at that, it really wasn't his favorite job he now had to be helping keeping tabs on a select group of those fearsome monsters, he among them.

Voldemort moved on to face Macnair, speaking of his job in the Ministry as a beast executioner.

Sirius had an individual hatred for that loon, the one who'd tried to kill Buckbeak, the same creep who'd walked around with an axe the whole time around children. It really didn't surprise him in the slightest he was among these high ranking, he was the kind you had probably found burning live kittens in his youth.

Next he addressed Crabbe and Goyle, only sparing enough words to gain their promises of further loyalty.

"Wow, and here I thought their kids were just meat suites without brains," James said nastily. "Turns out they're as trollish as their own dad's."

Lily hummed without comment that time, etching all of these into her own mental list, some of the worry for her son finally lessening just slightly enough she was realizing how useful all this information could be to the Order, they were getting a handpicked list of the elite after all, many of which were indeed still active in the Ministry now. She'd worry about details on how to nail them all after Harry was out of there, she'd still rather have the ignorance of not knowing than how she was learning this.

They bowed clumsily, muttering dully.

"That about describes everything they do," Sirius snarked.

After Nott was next named, Voldemort stopped in front of the largest gap, where he claimed six should stand. Three had died, one was clearly too cowardly to return, and another had long since left his service and would pay with his life. The last of which Voldemort already knew of and still remained his faithful servant.

"That was mentioned once before too wasn't it?" Lily muttered to herself. "Someone faithful who'd been helping him out along with- the first one we heard about." Her throat wasn't quite able to swallow all of a sudden it was so dry, and she trailed off from there with nothing more to add on. The one name Voldemort hadn't given, the one they really wanted to know.

Remus was keeping his own running list in his head, and realized that at least two of those most likely referred to Karkaroff and Snape, though he had no clue who was who. He didn't really think that was giving them too much credit anymore, not the way they'd been speaking all year about something like this happening. All he was left wondering who the third was. Could it be one of those two who were his most faithful and had been helping him out as well, or someone else altogether they hadn't even heard about yet.

Voldemort informed those around him his faithful servant was at Hogwarts, and was the reason they were all here tonight.

James made a demented noise. He somehow had found a new level for hate on either Karkaroff or Snape. His money was on Snape, but since it really had been either of them to put his son in there, they were going to suffer for it in the worst way he could conceive.

All attention was turned back on Harry now, some would even call him their guest of honor.

"Well I'm certainly not that some, and you need to not ever say that again," Lily snapped to no one, knowing she couldn't stand Voldemort taunting Harry being there much longer without blasting down a wall of her house in anger.

Voldemort let the silence continue until Malfoy spoke up again, craving his Lord to tell how this miracle had become.

Voldemort agreed he'd share the tale, which all began, and ended, with Harry Potter.

Aside from the abundance of information regarding names they were being force fed from his meeting, James wondered if he'd get something even more important to him. Would Voldemort finally divulge the very reason he'd started with his boy in the first place?

He began by recounting this boy as his downfall, all the while Harry was only just managing to follow along every word with his scar in agony.

Lily was mouthing her anger that on top of all this Harry was in fact in pain this whole time, if being in close contact to the essence of Voldemort had hurt Harry, then she could only imagine how that had increased with his own body. Her only saving grace for now was that it wasn't happening to him now, he still kept himself still as possible, one hand curled securely around her, the other hooked into James. James had been randomly patting it this whole time as a reminder to himself as well, thankful beyond words their infant had never been brought back down to be any part of this.

Stating the fabled tale of how his mother had died to save him,

Lily's touch seemed to warm Harry all the more. Not that he'd ever forget that for a moment in his life, nor ever be able to find happiness in the act of her life being cost, but there was still something he could never put into words of the magic of the act that went beyond any spell.

and how she'd unwittingly given him life that night, something that had not been foreseen. Voldemort could not touch him.

Remus was starting to get a bad feeling about this, his fingers already tightening around his wand as he remembered the last time Voldemort had tried to act on that and had nearly choked Harry to death. Why was Voldemort even keeping Harry alive now? He'd played his part in the resurrection potion, was it all really for gloating now?

Voldemort raised one of his long white fingers and put it very close to Harry's cheek.

Harry had to beat back the impulse to lean away from those touching him now, that horrible ingrained pain still trying to remind him it had once existed in his scar, soon to be even worse though he wouldn't have believed that possible.

Voldemort whispered and still all heard that the sacrifice of old magic had been overlooked,

"You make that mistake a lot," Sirius snapped cheerfully, "and it's put a hole in your boat so many times I hope it never stops."

"Sirius, I don't think that's actually a saying," James sighed more than joked back.

"Well it is now," Sirius replied like that was obvious, and for a moment as the two best friends met eyes something felt normal even for just that second before Sirius forced himself to resume.

but in the end, all in vain. Harry Potter could now be touched.

He placed the tip of his finger against Harry's scar, who screamed harder than he had in his life, now convinced his head was being cleaved in two.

Voldemort hissed a laugh in his ear, but pulled away to continue.

"Wha-How!?" Lily screeched, her arm starting to shake across Harry's shoulders. The thing she'd been able to leave him with, a sliver of protection she'd lost her life for, and now even that was gone. She felt like a failure as a mother, nothing she'd ever done had been enough for him.

Lily looked as likely to burst into tears of frustration as murder someone in that moment, so Remus felt like he was poking his own death as he reminded, "the potion that resurrected him Lily. He used Harry's blood, that makes them as connected as their wands now." He'd thought the others had realized this, it made sense when you went back and realized why Voldemort had wanted to use only Harry for this when that rat had been right, it would have been easier to get a hold of another other than Harry for this.

Apparently not as the others lost an extra shade of color, all false bravado of pretending this was okay falling out the window. Stupidly, Harry had felt a teensy bit safer with at least the knowledge Voldemort couldn't lay a hand on Harry, now even that was taken from them!

Sirius was looking from the book, to each of them in turn, like he was waiting for someone to actually offer some good news, something that would make this bearable for him to keep going. No one was, that ship had long sailed, and instead Sirius just wanted this chapter to end with Harry getting out of this place already.

His fault had been his downfall, and he was stripped from his body with pain he could not begin to describe. Still he did not despair, as some of the measures he'd taken for immortality had seemed to take effect, but not in the way he'd hoped. He had no body, and no way to use a wand,

James could feel the powder he was grinding his teeth to in frustration. In all this talking and posturing and making his life a living hell, Voldemort was still holding back on the important details, like an example of those bleeding experiments so they could make sure this didn't happen when James removed this snake's head!

so he'd been forced to exist in that state of being as he snuck away to a safe forest he knew of, waiting in vain for the help he should have expected from one of his loyal followers.

Those around him all shivered again in fear, and Voldemort let the silence linger for emphasis before continuing.

"If only he'd kill them all and save us the job," Sirius snarled.

The only temporary solace he'd found was when a young, foolish wizard had found him, and in luck's favor, had even been employed in Dumbledore's very school.

"What do I have to pay this guy to make him stop already," James moaned. He was sick with worry every passing moment Harry was there a second longer, and now they were having to hear about all of this stuff again they'd already had to live through. Harry didn't need this in his life repeated a third time, it had already nearly killed him the first two!

His goal had been the Philosopher's Stone, but again he'd been thwarted by Harry Potter.

"Did we ever congratulate you for doing that?" Remus sighed as he tried to usher back to a time where Voldemort popping out of Quirrell's head was the worst part of their day.

He didn't know what kind of answer he was expecting, but Harry not answering wasn't an encouraging one. He was still acting distant to the world around him. This night in the graveyard, what he'd already witnessed happening to Cedric, it was enough to drive anyone mad the first time around, now he was being forced to hear it all again. The one and only thing that seemed to be keeping him here was whatever response he got from his parents.

That struggle had ended with the death of Quirrell, and he was left as weak as ever.

"Please don't tell me he's going to start recounting your second year as well," Sirius groaned.

"That's actually an interesting question of if he even knows," Remus reminded. "We never even understood how a bit of his soul got into that diary, and Harry killed it with the basilisk fang. I can't imagine why Voldemort would know anything about it, considering it was aged so many years before the body he's in now, so the most he'd say was a passing comment about Harry doing that when he felt a bit of his soul die." Remus kind of wanted to keep going, that old intriguing question of what exactly would be happening if that Voldemort soul part had succeeded and come back to life. Would it have merged with the rest of this body, or stayed two separate entities? He was clearly the only one thinking on this, and knew the others were long since done with this whole night and wanted it to be over. Remus didn't even really care for finding answers to this, it was just easier to postulate ridiculous ideas like this than have to keep thinking of Harry tied to a headstone.

Voldemort had returned to his hiding, giving up hope.

James released a torrent of sounds as he begged this to end there no matter how much he knew otherwise. The next part, the bit where he had indeed gotten exactly what he wanted, was still the worst part of all.

Even he hadn't expected the change to come, when Wormtail had been driven out of hiding by once friends and forced to seek out his old Master.

Harry again felt the burn of Trelawney's prophecy tormenting his life, now complete and in the flesh. What he would give to go and take back his part in this coming true.

This had been accomplished through his curious affinity with rats.

"One that he thankfully can't retain in death, so look for some silver lining," Lily hissed under her breath.

The rodents had whispered of the forests of Albania where their kind sensed evil, and Wormtail had made his way there. All had almost been lost before it even begun, as Wormtail stumbled into Bertha Jorkins. Showing a spot of intelligence none would have guessed from him, Wormtail had continued to work this in his favor and a wealth of information was born from that woman.

Sirius hated himself for somehow still finding new ways to despise that miserable bit of existence. He just wanted to have him dead already and be done with that part of his life, this continuing to be dragged out always managed to find new ways of torturing him along.

Through persuasion, she'd told of the Triwizard Tournament, and even after a Memory Charm had been broken, divulged of a faithful Death Eater willing to go to Voldemort's service. Once she'd shared all she knew, her mind and body were damaged beyond repair.

Harry couldn't even imagine what Bertha's last few moments of life had been like, but he could understand a small bit of her pain. He felt it every time a powerful memory was returned to his own mind after some kind of Memory blocking had been put on him. He was going slow, relearning this bit by bit, and he still felt like it was slowly driving him mad. He couldn't imagine someone being forced to have it all come back at once, that really would drive a person out of their own skull.

Remus shook his head in disgust at himself, this was all so clear in hindsight. Bertha had worked in the Department of Magical Cooperation, and would have known about the Tournament before hand like every other employee there. When Voldemort had previously mentioned how useful her information had been, that had been what helped put this whole plan into action. The reason her memory had gone from so good in the way they remembered to this way was because she'd had a Memory Charm placed on her, and then broken in the worst way. Now the only thing he was left wondering was who was the servant that had executed that plan, and who'd placed it on her in the first place, what had been hidden that revolved that secret?

Voldemort shown his scarlet eyes on Wormtail, admitting his own shock at such an ill adapted wizard accomplishing all that.

A distant part of James absently noted how even Voldemort kept downplaying Peter's skills when they'd been the very things to get Voldemort where he was now. It seemed everyone constantly mocked and laughed at him, and yet the Marauders never had, but instead encouraged and helped along what he was good at. What had they done so wrong that had forced their friend away?

A plan had been formed from Bertha's information, and while Voldemort had been nursed back to health using Nagini's venom, the potion was being prepared that gave Voldemort the body he now possessed. They had the first ingredient of unicorns blood, but still needed the rest. The flesh had been provided, the bone would detail the setup of where this would happen.

Lily hadn't believed she could be any more shocked tonight, but still she managed to utter in surprise, "so, his Death Eaters know he's not a pureblood?"

"I, um, guess they do," James wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about that, but he knew at some point in the future when he sadly would go back thinking to this he'd be disappointed. They'd been planning to spread this information around, hopefully discredit Voldemort's top people in hopes they'd desert him, and now that plan seemed as useless as anything else they'd ever tried to do.

The blood of the foe had been the tricky part. Wormtail had been happy to use anyone, but Voldemort knew the one he must have. To share Harry Potter's blood, so that the lingering magical protection would now be in his own veins.

Lily looked beyond disgusted at the idea. She'd thought it repulsive to share anything with Petunia, but this was just as bad! How dare the very thing that kept trying to hurt her son somehow manage to house his very protection!

The boys were suddenly aware of a way to kill Voldemort, release Lily on him. She looked so fearsome in that moment if she'd actually had her target present, not even a puddle would be left of him.

The question of how to reach Harry Potter was the issue, as the boy was so well protected in ways Dumbledore had planned from the moment this started.

That question made something occur to Remus for the first time, but it was such a small thing making a blip in his mind as compared to the other more pressing matters he knew he couldn't be bothered to question that until he had the much better knowledge of hearing Harry be free of this nightmare.

Ancient magic was invoked to ensure the boy's protection as long as he was in his relations' care.

James' brain felt like a broken record, all he'd been managing to due for ages now was utter, "wait, what?" Always feeling one step behind now.

Lily's face squinched up in pain as she processed this, muttering, "I've never heard of that."

"I can believe it though," Remus said sourly. "It doesn't excuse what Dumbledore did in even the slightest bit in not checking in on Harry with those abusive excuse for people, but it still always blew my mind of why he'd been put there in the first place when neither of you ever even mentioned Petunia's existence."

Sirius wished that at any time Harry had ever demanded of Dumbledore why he had to keep going back there, if Dumbledore would really use the excuse Harry was safer there than out because of some protective magic. No magic was infallible, and safe was the last thing Harry was at the hands of those Dursleys.

Harry watched them all with fascination, surprised he'd finally been dragged out the recesses of his mind to focus in on them muttering about the Dursleys again. He supposed if there was someone to rival their hatred of Voldemort and Wormtail, it was Vernon and Petunia, not that this was at all comforting. Harry at once wanted to sink back into not having to listen to anymore words, if he kept trying to understand past that to those around him he was going to suffer even more pain for the realization he was living through all of this because the scene around him would never happen in his own time. Sadly, now that he'd been snapped out, he couldn't find the distance to go back.

Then there had been the Quidditch Cup, where his body had still been too weak to attempt a kidnap around so many, but then more of Bertha's information had been of use. Voldemort had placed his faithful Death Eater at Hogwarts, who'd ensured Harry's name would be placed in the Goblet of Fire.

"Holy Godric Gryffindor!" Sirius yelped.

"We are complete morons," James gasped as that was slapped into his face.

"This whole bleeding time, we were thinking they were actually two unrelated- Merlin's pants are we something stupid," Remus snarled as he nearly ripped the sleeve of his robe off he was pulling on it so hard in agitation.

That one really should have clicked together when Harry had appeared here, but in between Cedric dying and the appearance of that rat, it had been hard to think past anything else. Now they realized that in fact, this whole year had been one big set up to this end, and they all felt like fools for not grasping this sooner.

Harry wasn't going to let them wallow in their misery for long, failing to come up with an encouraging smile in his search for something to say, but still getting out, "if it makes you all feel any better, no one else figured this out either. Really, how could anyone have known that Voldemort's ultimate plan was for me to win some competition."

Lily supposed when he put it that way it did sound ridiculous, but it still didn't erase how bleeding frustrating it always was to find themselves lost amongst all these plans around Harry until it was too late. Still she forced some chipper into her voice as she agreed with him, if anything just because it was the first time he'd spoken in ages and she wanted to encourage that as much as possible.

Sirius forced himself to keep going at this point just because he saw an end in sight of this chapter.

His faithful Death Eater had ensured Potter's first place, and transformed the Triwizard Cup into a Portkey so that they could all be here now, far from Dumbledore's protection.

None of that was helping narrow out their two suspects, both had access to all of that.

Now here he was at their mercy, the one who everyone believed to be Voldemort's downfall.

"And will be again, and again, and again, until you learn to stay the hell away from him," James snarled, his own arm tightening around his wife and son possessively which would stay that way until Voldemort was gone.

Voldemort moved slowly forward and turned to face Harry. He raised his wand,

Harry recognized what was coming a moment before he watched Sirius utter that spell.

and used Crucio.

When the memory of that pain surged in his mind, but didn't actually make a comeback on him, Harry forced himself to slowly relax back into his parents grip, trying to insist upon his brain that wasn't happening to him now, but it helped nothing when he couldn't convince himself this still wasn't the most painful part of his night.

This was pain beyond anything imaginable, his eyes were rolling in his head, he knew the only relief he'd ever feel again was the blackness of death.

Sirius felt tears stinging at the edge of his vision as he forced himself to read of that happening to his pup. He could hardly imagine the idea without wanting to throw himself in front of Harry now. The infant in the crib, the fourteen year old suffering through this for the first time alone and helpless, or even the adult now cushioned between his parents. Absolutely none of it could ever be comprehended in any way other than the worst torture in the world to imagine that happening to Harry.

It stopped as suddenly as it started, and if Harry hadn't been bound in place, there was no way he'd be upright.

Voldemort looked pleased as the night rang with laughter from his followers.

Whatever the opposite of laughter was, Remus could hear himself making that, but forcing himself to do it as privately as he could, he didn't want Sirius to stop now, he was to desperate to hear of the something else, anything else happening than Harry torture until he got out of there which wasn't happening soon enough.

Still, Voldemort swore that while it would be easy to dispose of this child, he wanted no one in doubt of his own true power. Harry Potter would be killed now, with no Dumbledore protection, and no mother to die for him.

There was not a shadow of a doubt in anyone's mind that Lily would make that call over and over again, but it didn't explain why something came over Harry's expression when he heard that. In fact Harry had looked the same way every time one of his parents had come up for a while now, what was it about this night that had him feeling so much for the two. Was it possible Voldemort would start taunting their last moments again, Harry had looked much like he was now when that had happened before.

Instead, Harry Potter was to be released, and handed back his wand.

"That was the stupidest thing he could have done," Remus sneered, "as I finally figured out the way you're going to get out of there, putting Voldemort in his place."

"I think you lot have far too much faith in me," Harry whispered, still keeping a tight hand on each of his parents. "No, whatever did save me from that place, it wasn't my doing, it was Voldemort's own fault, again."

"Well whatever the case, let's be done with it," Sirius pleaded, of whom even he wasn't sure.

HPHPHPHP

*Did anyone else first read this moment and think, 'oh my god he's going to kill Remus!' I mean, I'm happy I was wrong, but come on, the silver hand, he'd already been a hand in killing one Marauder and trying to kill another, (yes I consider leaving Sirius when he did was as good as a death sentence.) Remus was the only one he hadn't personally had a chance at yet...

#The Life that Never Lived #Harry Potter #HP #fanfiction #reading the books #GoF #Marauders #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Potter

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