#the old people. the cliff. the vomit. it happened AGAIN.

[frogspawned]

hellwalk... 2!!  begins auspiciously enough. i bear spray myself in the car. this is the second time this has happened, and the third shall happen very shortly. i roll down the windows, standing like a sad idiot in the pouring rain with my dogs, waiting for it to dissipate enough to be bearable. my hands are burning and my nose runs continuously. i take out the cans to stall for time with the dogs, who are trembling with excitement to Go Somewhere. freya (derogatory), who has recently discovered she can run to the neighbor’s yard, sprints to the edge of the road just to make me shout. this is a new fun game! i wish i had never stopped gaslighting her that the road is a lava.

we arrive at destination one, wherein i find a pile of discarded, filthy clothes, an awl, and a tackle box of some sort suspiciously discarded behind the brush.

there is a foul smell, a distinctly dead smell, so i search the area a bit. i don’t find anything, and decide to leave, because it’s none of my fucking business. as park time has been cut short, i decide we will go on a trail for a bit.

so there’s this trail that i took the worst walk of my life on, and, because i do not learn from experience, i decide that this is as good as any. it was optimal conditions; soaking rain for the last few days, muddy, fallen trees and branches from the last storm, no one knowing where i was going. mud and clay and more mud. there are many warning signs i will not have a good time, which i ignore.

freya races down the steep cliffs down to the river flats, having the time of her life. her only goal in life is to be a filth monster. this is her element.

(on a different, happier walk)

chewy (honorable)

chewy stood next to me, waiting for the beast to return so they could resume frolicking and gamboling. chewy does not do sheer cliffs anymore, as she is an old and distinguished lady. except, actually, she does! she goes down the hill, a quarter falling, mostly sliding. the mud reaches all the way to her elbows. this is very pleasing to her, until she tries to move around, after which she says ‘fuck this actually’ and tries to come back up.

the thing is, chewy cannot climb up. it requires a 3 foot vertical leap at the end where the dirt has fallen away from the tree roots. she has the hips of a calcium starved geriatric and thus the jumping power of a slug. she struggles to get on my bed. to be fair, my bed is very tall. to be more fair, i dragged an ottoman into my room -- which she has used before! sometimes she napped on it! -- to help her, and she decided she is terrified of it. she does not understand alternate routes. she is a being of many mysteries.

freya makes the run/jump easily, and demonstrates several times. this is the best thing that has ever happened! and so she must run, to celebrate.  chewy stares up at me, realizing she is trapped. (fun fact! it’s a 12 foot drop into deep mud; i know because many years ago, my OTHER dog walked off the edge and i had to climb down to retrieve her, as she refused to move. until i got to her. then she learned to struggle.) calling in the squeakiest baby voice i can muster, i lead chewy back down along the trail, which thankfully runs alongside the drop. chewy is deeply confused, but follows. the mud is a struggle for her. freya cannot decide what is more fun, lapping chewy or flying up the hill to run around me. after a few minutes, we reach an area with a shallow enough hill that chewy can manage. freya makes 3 trips up and down the hill before chewy arrives; on the fourth, she takes a flying leap over chewy from behind going uphill. i wish fervently i could steal her lifeforce. i would drain her like a caprisun. that dog would be a withered husk.

when she makes it to the trail, chewy is exhausted, cold, and soaked through. unutterably miserable. the biggest wettest eyes you’ve ever seen. she wants to go home. admittedly, she always wants to go home. her greatest wish is to go in the car somewhere, sniff, pee, and then get back in the car and go home. perhaps stopping along the way for a Treat.

we start to head back; however, return trips are when freya becomes Evil. there is nothing new! it’s all old stuff! this is the time to investigate the Mysteries she has passed before. she goes racing ahead, which is fine, normally, both my dogs wait at bends until they are in sight again. they are generally very good about staying near. freya makes a hard left turn into the brush; fine, whatever. they are both obsessed with grass, and i know there’s a patch down there. graze to your heart’s content! this is either my third or fourth mistake. the dog cannot be trusted. foolishly, i am grateful. at least she will be distracted from chewy while we go down the slickest clay hill in the world.

i carefully go off the trail onto the moss, guiding chewy down. it’s still steep but doable. i look up from the bottom. freya has what at first i think might be a piece of chicken, a fleshy pale beigeness. we stare at each other. she begins to chew, testing. i tell her no! drop it! she does, still watching, assessing. ‘drop it’ is a highly conditional command. i scramble up the hill, only to slip and crash onto my side. the bear spray hits the ground. the air is now spicy. the safety needs to be fixed. i have known this for several months. i slide down to the bottom. there is mud all up one side of my body. the puddle is so cold. i look up from the wet earth, and see the dawning realization in her eyes: i won’t get up there in time. freya begins her swallowing process, snakelike.  she doesn’t even move away; she enjoys watching the struggles and hardships, and most of all, people falling down.

i clamber on all fours up the hill, reaching her right as she gulps the last traces down. she is triumphant! her throat is making the weirdest, grossest sounds you’ve ever heard. she drops her head to collect more, and i see what it is. congealed dog vomit. it has the consistency of cold melted butter, with dog food chunks in it. i shoot out my hands to blockade her. it is no matter, because there is More along the trail. i can see it in her face. it is the gum incident all over again. she runs ahead. you’ll never catch me, mother. i am swift and sure footed, a beast of the undergrowth, and you are wearing your worst shoes.

i powerwalk down the trail after her, stopping her from going off to seek her treasures. she listens, because this is also a new game. questions plague me. what dog has been vomiting. why is there so much. i note at least five small piles, all just off trail. something terrible happened here. this is the second time i’ve had a horrible vomit experience on this very trail. which is funny, because it was the first thing i thought of when we arrived. ‘twas hubris that felled the beast; hubris and a short memory.

we are in the home stretch. so far i am winning, and she has not eaten any more puke. it does not matter to her; only that i am forced to keep up, and must shout. we round the last bend, i call her a wretched animal. i hear a voice a few feet behind me. a cold wave of deja vu passes through me. an Old Man has appeared from the woods. time is a flat circle. last time it was two old people. dread takes root in my belly. i am sisyphus. i am cassandra. i am soaked. history does not repeat, but it rhymes.

he is frightened of the dogs. freya is frightened of his umbrella. the disaster unfolds.

she is a slippery eel of a dog, and i didn’t put on her harness because i am a fool most of all, life is one long joke without a punchline, and didn’t expect to be here in the first place. my decision making lately has been poor. that was also a warning sign, ignored.  i herd her back to the car with big arm gestures and pleas (with only one road chicken scare, which gives me palpitations. what a fun game!! oh ho!). she is so muddy. she is so so muddy. the dog blanket on the back has fallen off due to chewy’s awkward scramble into the car. everything is muddy. i apologize to the old man. he is mud as well. the dogs are in high spirits. i give them their cookies, defeated. upon our return home, they gather first in the kitchen, for another cookie, and then on my clean sheets, for a nap. i am so very tired.

#i swore last time i would never take another walk there again but im a fucking clown so #the old people. the cliff. the vomit. it happened AGAIN. #long post #frog croaks #and the road is so so so bad like people die regularly on it #because it is winding and crumbling #in places #and people love to drive fast and/or drunk on it #it's cold enough that there's still snow on the ground #another fun fact #someone discarded corpses on these trails before! #people disappear and the town's like #¯\_(ツ)_/¯ #chronic it's not my fucking business disease #freya #chewy

[thisisarcanereverie]

Checkmate (DARK! Moon Knight x Reader) Knight and Pawn series (FINAL CHAPTER)

Hey here it is!!! Thank you guys so much for sticking around and loving this series as much as you do. unfortunately all good things have to end, and this is the final chapter. (I know I kinda left ya at a cliff hanger.) I was originally was gonna post it a week from now but I kinda needed the distraction and next thing you know over 5k words later and I finished it.

Again thank you to everybody who loved this series!!

also don't be afraid to send asks or requests for fics!!

HERE IS MY ASK BOX

You love Marc. 

You have always loved Marc. 

You remind yourself of every good quality your husband has as you pace in front of the sink where three tests lay waiting. You were anxious and began to shake as time seemed to be moving aggravatingly slow. 

What if you were pregnant? How would he take it? How would you take it? 

Both of you didn’t grow up with the best examples, your parents died when you were young and were neglected by your guardians, meanwhile Marc’s mother was a terror and his father only excused her cruel actions and words. Would you both be able to handle raising someone, could you be better than them?

You had been mindlessly washing dishes earlier when you had cut your finger on a knife. You had hissed and looked to assess the damage, you dried your hands and went to put a bandaid on it or something. When you had that taken care of, you looked at the previously white rag, now stained with red. You had no idea why you were staring at it until this cold tingle went down your spine as your hand unconsciously drifted over your abdomen as the question came to mind. 

When was the last time you had your period?

It had only been a month since the wedding and Marc moving you and him back to the states where he bought a large home in a gated community. Apparently the community was for people like him, superheroes. You remember meeting quite a few of them, all of them with their wives. Wanda Maximoff and her wife being the friendliest out of all of them although Wanda’s wife seemed to be a ball of nerves sometimes.  

And before that you had a freak accident, you couldn’t remember it if you tried, and you have, only to be met with migraines so intense it made you vomit. You only remember feeling Marc holding you tightly against him and sobbing. You tried asking him about it only to be met with sad eyes and “I don’t wanna relive it.” 

And you can’t really remember much else before then, probably because life was so calm and normal that it just slipped your mind, time passes by quickly when you’re not paying attention. 

You just know you and Marc had always been together. 

The loud beeping of the timer echoed throughout the bathroom, ripping you from your thoughts. You debated looking at them, maybe if you didn’t know it would go away like it never happened, but at the same time you wanted to know. You didn’t know how to feel about it, you were sick to your stomach but at the same time you can’t stop picturing a tiny child with dark hair like their father and eyes like their mother, you can practically hear them laugh and hear their feet patter against the overall quiet home you live in and instead of it terrifying you. 

It made you feel warm and happy. 

You were terrified, an overall mess of conflicting emotions, you breathed in for a moment and much like ripping off a stubborn bandaid you quickly picked up all three tests. 

Pregnant

You guessed you were in shock because suddenly a still calmness enveloped you, similar to acceptance. You carefully hid the pregnancy test in an old box that Marc never went through in the back of the closet, not yet ready to share the news. 

You then went about the day like normal. 

You finished the dishes, swept the floor in the living room, painted in your home studio, and looked up a recipe for dinner. You just thanked god that the weekly tea and bunch that all the ladies of the community have was pushed back due to the rain. You don’t know how you would handle being around other people at this moment. 

You had finished cooking and were setting the table when you saw your husband walk through the door. At some point you just began to assume it’s Marc since Steven came out mostly for work and cuddling, while Jake has been allusive after the accident months ago. Almost like he was avoiding you. 

Oh god you just realized it wasn’t just Marc who you would have to break the news to, how would your boys handle it?

“Everything alright Starlight?” You hear Marc ask sweetly, his jacket had already been hung up and he was making his way to you, his eyes concerned, “you look pale, are you having those migraines again?” His hand went to hold your face when you flinched, an action that even shocked you. You were quick to grab his hand and kiss his open palm. You smiled at him and willed yourself to calm your excited nerves. 

“Everything is perfect Pretty Boy,” You assured him, “why don’t you get changed and I’ll finish setting the table.” Marc looked apprehensive before placing a kiss on your lips and a silent, “i’ll be right back”. 

Dinner had proceeded normally, Marc had practically inhaled his food, having skipped lunch to come home earlier to you. You both talked about your day, you had conveniently left out the three positive pregnancy tests currently hiding in the closet. 

Marc had helped with the dishes and at some point, some slow song began to play from the radio. Which led to him pulling you both away from the sink and to dancing in the middle of the kitchen, one hand on the small of your back and your hands playing with the ends of his hair. You both hummed to the song as love filled the room. You pressed your forehead against his as you both just swayed away any troubles. By the time the song ended, it felt like this morning had been days ago. 

You loved your life with Marc. 

But would Marc still feel the same way knowing that there was about to be a new member to your new family?

—

It had been days since you took those tests. 

With each day you felt like you were keeping a secret from him and you were getting anxious, not ever being able to keep a secret from Marc for long. And you knew Marc was getting suspicious, not letting him anywhere near the closet, staring out of windows a lot with a far off look, You knew he was being patient but you didn’t know how long that patience would last. 

Finally Marc had a day and night off from Steven’s business and from his Moon Knight duties and you decided today would be the day you told him. 

You had originally planned to do it in the morning, once again ripping the bandaid off, but was….pleasantly distracted by him. Multiple times….in a row. 

God it was no wonder you were in your current situation. 

Then you wanted to tell him at breakfast, but before you could Marc suggested taking a trip to the local beach. He had made sure when moving to move close to one, that dream of visiting the ocean and having you there with him came true. 

You decided that maybe Marc would react better in public. 

Then you got to the beach only to realize that maybe not there, in case he didn’t want this pregnancy you didn’t want this beach to become a tainted place. 

The day passed by quickly, before you knew it you went from laying on the beach enjoying the fresh salt tinted air before the sun was beginning to set on the horizon and you were both eating dinner at home. Having take out from your favorite place. 

There had been a moment of silence as you built up your courage. You knew you would have to put this delicately to him, he was always prone to hysterics. 

“Marc,” You said, He immediately perked up his attention solely on you. You never called him Marc, only your Pretty Boy. Whenever you called him Marc it was because he made you mad or you were serious. 

Both scared him. 

“Yes, my beautiful starlight.” Marc said, adding an extra adjective in front of your typical nickname, hoping the compliment might lighten whatever mood had taken over. 

“So the other day I cut my finger in the kitchen,” You said, Marc following every word, “I went to put a bandaid on it when something was brought to my attention.” 

Oh god did you know?!

Marc could feel his anxiety bubbling up as fear took a hold of him. 

“I’m late.” 

What?

Marc tilted his head in confusion as though he wasn’t following. 

“What um, what were you late for?” He asked nervously, not really following what plans you had made that day that would warrant the look on your face right now. 

“I wasn’t late for anything,” You gently explained as you held onto his hand, “I mean I’m late.”

Marc still wasn’t getting it. 

You sighed and decided to hell with subtlety. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

It seemed like Marc hadn’t heard you at first, he hadn’t moved in well over a minute since you told him. You were about to touch his shoulder when he slumped forward, limp. 

At first you were worried he had died from the shock, but his steady pulse and breathing indicated otherwise. After a few seconds, he came to. Although from the adorably confused look on his face that it wasn’t Marc. 

“Hello sweetheart,” Steven greeted with a sweet kiss to your cheek once he gained his barings, “forgive me for saying this, because I’m not complaining at all, but why am I here? I thought today was Marc’s day with you.” 

If Marc was completely oblivious with subtlety before you knew Steven would be more so. 

“I’m pregnant.” You said. 

Silence. 

“I thought your name was (Y/n)?” 

You loved him but right now your patience was thin. 

“No Steven,” You said calmly, placing a hand over your stomach, “We’re going to have a baby, I’m pregnant.” 

Silence once again filled the room before Steven started hyperventilating, you tried calming him down only for him to slump over, his frame once again limp as you concluded that he, indeed, passed out. 

And much like before not even five minutes later, he’s up again with another confused look. Only now, when his eyes land on you, you see immense guilt and sorrow in them. 

Those eyes hurt the most. 

“Hola Angel,” Jake greeted, his eyes looking away from you, “I didn’t know I was going to see you today.”

“I’m pregnant.” You stated, you saw him stiffen before his eyes immediately darted to yours. Searching for any hint of a joke, finding none he knew this was it…the point of no return. Marc had won, completely and utterly. 

You were doomed, and there was nothing Jake could do to save you. 

“Are, are you um…merida,” Jake cursed in Spanish as you saw a cold sweat break out on his forehead. This man who had killed more people than he could count and enjoyed it was breaking out in a cold sweat over the fact that you were pregnant, “Estas segura?”

“Si,” You said cradling his face, “Si mi Amor” 

Time seemed to move slowly around him, and for you as well as you waited for the reaction, waited for him to oppose, or to love it, you didn’t know which one you wanted. 

You weren’t sure much about anything.

Suddenly, much like the other two, he slumped forward, limp. Instead of being incredibly concerned, you waited patiently, knowing in a few seconds either Marc or Steven would pop back up. 

Sure enough, a few seconds later he’s revived, and at this point the nerves inside you were making you more impatient by the second. Once again by the look he gave you, you knew which one he was right now. Those dark eyes that held so much love that it scared you sometimes, love and obsession. 

“Are you done?” you asked impatiently, already quite annoyed by his fainting over the news. After a few minutes Marc nodded, although shakily. 

“How, uh, how long have you known?” 

“Almost a week,” You revealed, “I was in shock for the first day and a half, but I wanted to wait until you could freak out properly before telling you.” 

Silence passed between you as you reached for his hand and took it, squeezing it in comfort, to ground him from his thoughts. 

“What, um, shit,” Marc cursed, here he was freaking out while you were the one who was pregnant, “what do you want to do?” 

“I don’t know,” You said honestly, “I thought we could talk about this and decide together, you, me, Steven, and Jake.” You saw Marc grimince at the mention of Jake but understood where you came from. If he had it his way Jake wouldn’t get a vote or say anything, but as you’ve pointed out he was very much there. 

Even though Marc could still feel the sting of betrayal at the thought of him. 

“I’ll go first,” You said, pulling Marc from his thoughts, “I don’t know if we’re ready, I mean we never talked about it and we didn’t have the best examples growing up…but,” You paused, “I think we are not the people who raised us. You are not your mother, and I am not my guardian. I think if we both work hard and hold each other accountable, I think we may be able to pull it off.” You already knew you both wouldn’t be perfect, that you’ll fall short somewhere along the line. But a deep part of you, one that was selfish and irrational, wanted to give this a shot.  But you knew if Marc said no, along with Steven and Jake, then you knew not going through with the pregnancy would probably be a wise choice, you would not bring a kid into this world only to be rejected by the other person who made them. You just wouldn’t. 

Marc thought for a while, what would a kid with you look like? Memories of his past still haunted him, but all that he could see is a kid with dark curly hair and your eyes. He could see you laughing as you played with them, he could imagine the sleepless nights, the angsty teenage years, he could see going through it all with you. And you with a smile on your face as you’ve gotten what you deserve. 

A family and a home filled with unconditional love. 

Marc knew that if you both went through with this, you absolutely must never know about the events that lead up to this moment. Hiring a P.I to track you, you falling in love with that P.I only for Marc to kill him in front of you, threatening you, abducting you, killing those you loved in your name, and ultimately your attempt a few months previous to escape him, and how it ended with him sacrificing himself to keep you. 

Marc knew he didn’t deserve you, that what he did was fucked up beyond belief. He understood that quite well. 

But right now he can’t stop imagining a bundle in your arms, cooing as sunlight hit you. 

And he couldn’t say no. 

“She would be a wonderful mother,” Steven said in the mirror, Jake however was silent but Marc could sense it. Jake wanted this child just as much as Steven and him. 

“We will try our best,” Marc said finally, “I will read every parenting book ever made if that’s what it takes.”

You felt like crying, a massive weight was just lifted off of your shoulders and you felt like you could finally breathe. 

But as you wept into Marc’s chest and the night continued, a dark foreboding feeling lingered at the back of your mind. 

You weren’t sure what that was about. 

—

~8 months later~

You woke with a start, you clutched your chest as your heart beat rapidly. You felt damp, all over and you tried to even your breathing as you closed your eyes and counted back from a hundred. But every time you closed your eyes you would get these flashes. It wasn’t the first one, they would happen sporadically, never making sense, but they would always be accompanied with a strange sense of deja vu. Most of the time they didn’t make any sense and they didn’t last very long. Like you staring out of the window, you seemed to have a lot of flashes about staring out of a window, staring out into a world just beyond your reach. Then there are flashes of you reading books, and living inside this penthouse full of windows. 

Then there were others. 

You would be in some run down place with a woman with short curly brown hair, with freckles dusted along the apples of her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. You don’t know why but you felt like you knew her, that you loved her to some degree.

But how could you love a woman you’ve never met?

Then there were days you were unfamiliar with, you were happy, you dressed in business attire and did a typical nine to five day. You came home with a satisfied smile on your face. 

But you don’t know who you were coming home to everyday. 

You only remembered something about amber eyes. Whenever you see flashes of amber eyes your heart always hurts, like it’s been stabbed and you have no idea why. Oftentimes you would leave to go to the bathroom and cry because of the pain in your chest. 

You didn’t want to worry Marc. 

Strangely enough you never had flashes of Marc, or Steven, or even Jake. 

For some reason it unsettled you. 

You go to move when you feel a pop, and suddenly you go from damp to soaked. You looked down and sure enough there was a puddle on the ground that wasn’t there before. 

Fuck

“Marc,” You say as he grumbled in return, “Marc,” You tried again as he stirred awake. 

“What is it, Starlight?” He asked, reaching for your hand, “another craving?”

“My water broke.” You said casually, a long moment passed before you felt him springing from his side of the bed and rushing over to you, almost slipping on the puddle in the process. 

“Ok,” He starts slowly, a complete contrast to his previous actions, “ok, stay um stay right there I’ll go get the hospital bag.” Before you could say anything, he was rushing around your home like a headless chicken. You smiled as you burned this memory into your mind, this memory of your goofball husband that you loved not remembering that he put the bag in the car a week ago. 

“Shit,” He curses looking in the mirror, “STEVEN DO YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO THE BAG!?!” You get up and start to look for the simplest thing to wear that wasn’t your night clothes. 

“I don’t know I don’t know,” Steven says as you calmly fish out a casual maternity sundress. It was a warm night and you had a feeling you wouldn’t be wearing jeans for a hot minute. 

“Idon’tknowIdon’tknow.” You hear Steven repeat as Marc switches back in order to calm Steven down. You casually put the sundress on and casually strolled by your husband to grab a pair of slippers. After slipping the shoes on without bending down which took a couple of minutes. After seeing that even after all that Marc still doesn’t remember you decide to help him. 

“Marc,” you said sweetly as he was still looking for the bag, “Marc,” You repeated as you touched his arm. He looked at you as if just remembering that you were there and that you were the one whose water was just broken. 

“You should sit down,” Marc said as he gently ushered you in a chair, “we may have to go without the bag we should get dressed-wait a minute,” Marc suddenly stops himself as he notices your change of attire, “when did you get dressed?”

“While you were running around like a headless chicken,” You answered simply, “and you put the bag in the trunk last week because you knew you were going to act like this.” 

“I don’t think that was my thoughtful planning.” Marc said, before the subtle change happened. The frightened look in his eyes was replaced with concerned but calm ones. 

“No, that would be me,” Jake said. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Steven asked before he changed back to Jake. 

“The Host never asked.” He replies before helping you out of the chair gently, “let’s go angel.” Jake calmly helped you to the backseat of the car, making sure you were taken care of before going and changing himself. It was just a shirt and sweatpants but better than the pair of boxers he was wearing before. 

—

The drive was relatively short to the hospital, however as soon as you got there the contractions started. 

Apparently, your contractions were happening sooner rather than the 12 or so hours later. 

Honestly, the whole birthing process was a blur to you, you felt the pain but you don’t remember Marc holding your hand. 

With each contraction you were back in those visions, those flashes, only this time they had Marc. 

You saw that curly haired woman again, and you saw them together, kissing. You felt your heart ache as you heard her name. 

Layla. 

Another contraction you saw yourself all bruised and battered, barely breathing as people beat you. And out the corner of your eye you saw Marc, dressed as Moon Knight, escape with Layla in his arms. 

Visions kept happening with each contraction, you and Marc fighting, a man named Alec, SWORD. 

You see yourself, trapped on the bus, you had never looked that afraid before, the look of terror etched to your face as you pounded against the door of the bus. You walked closer to Alec and Marc not expecting to hear them over your screams. 

“You’ll never have her,” Alec said his amber eyes were the ones that hurt you, “even if you kill me you’ll never have her.” 

“And why is that?” You hear Marc ask mockingly. You studied him, you could tell by the suit it was him, but he was…darker than you remembered. 

“Because I have something you’ll never have again,”

 a pause. 

“Her heart.” 

And with that, as quick as lightning, you saw Marc snap his neck and Alec lay lifeless on the ground. 

And those dull, unseeing, amber eyes seemed to stare at you, almost tauntingly. As if to say “you thought you could forget this?”

But how could you forget this, you remember this, you knew this was real, but it didn’t make sense. Memories of Marc, all the happy ones. Baking together, loving together, eating popcorn while watching trash tv together. 

Was any of it real?

You bellowed in pain, not just from the labor but it felt like your entire being was being split open, body and soul. 

In rapid flashes you could see what your life with Marc was truly like. 

You were angry with him, but deep down, you were also terrified. You fought everyday to keep your mind and spirit. 

You saw yourself entangled with him, the amount of conflict in you was palpable. You knew you didn’t want it, but you did at the same time. The amount of grief and shame that filled you as you saw yourself holding back the tears as you cleaned yourself up was overwhelming. 

Then events passed in a blur, Layla helping you escape with Jake's assistance, you and Layla talking, a week passing by and then Jake rushing you out. Saying it was for your safety. Then, in the rearview mirror, you saw it, the switch. Then Layla dying in the backseat, the way she lifelessly slumped haunted you. 

“You’re no better than your mother” Your voice echoed in your ears. 

“NONE OF THAT WAS REAL!” Marc’s voice bellowed. 

The cold click of a gun’s safety turning off. 

“NO WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

“Did you mean it when you said I was your world” your body felt like it was falling apart, atom by atom, “your moon and stars.” 

Just as you thought you were going to die, you heard it. 

A baby crying. 

Your baby. 

“Good,” You faintly hear as the world around you begins to fade into black as the pain ebbed away slowly, “You took everything from me, it’s about time I return the favor.” 

—

Marc couldn’t decide if he was in heaven. 

Or in hell. 

He cradled his newborn daughter in his arms, he was so worried. For months he had been secretly dreading this moment, the moment he became a father. But now as he’s holding her, all he could feel was a love he never knew he was capable of. Each and every part of him loved her. Jake and Steven were in awe and for once, quiet. He beamed as he noticed that she scrunched her nose much like you did, something that he knew she inherited from you. 

The fear was still there, and he suspected it always will be until the day he dies. 

But none of that mattered right now. 

Because his daughter was here. 

If he was being honest, he didn’t know how he would’ve handled a son. He suspects he wouldn’t react nearly this affectionately. 

But right now as he held onto your daughter he was worried. He was worried for you, you’ve been staring out that window a lot, the blank look in your eyes only disappeared when your daughter was in your arms. 

He handed his daughter off to the nurse for another check up, one that he had requested to make sure that everything was ok. He kissed her gently on the forehead before walking over to where you sat. Marc sat gently on the bed next to you, and tried to notice the slight flinch that your body gave. 

“What’s going on, Starlight?” Marc asked as he reached for your hand. You didn’t move your hand away but you also didn’t return the affection. 

You mumbled something so quietly he didn’t understand what you had said. 

“What?”

“Did you mean it?” You asked, not looking at him.

“What do you mean?” Marc asked. 

“Did you mean it when you said I was your world,” You said bitterly, “your moon and stars.” 

His blood ran cold as he saw your eyes and as the words tumbled out of your mouth. Those were one of the last words you spoke before…before the incident. 

“I remember,” you said, still not looking directly at him, “I remember it all.” 

Those were the words he never wanted to hear, he could handle anything else, but not that you remember. 

“I’ve been having these flashes since I found out I was pregnant,” You explained, “they were tame at first. Just me sitting sadly by a window, and then a girl I didn’t recognize, then this pair of amber eyes.” You took in a shaky breath, “the girl's name was Layla…she was my best friend and your first wife, and those amber eyes belonged to Alec or I guess his real name was Mack.” Marc fell to his knees, tears streamed down your face as he grasped both of your hands. He was on his knees for you, and you could barely look at him. “You killed them all.” 

“For us,” Marc said, grasping your hands tighter, “I did it all for us.” 

“How am I still alive?” You asked. 

“I made another deal,” Marc said as he realized it was no use hiding it all from you now, “with Khonshu. My life for yours.” You nodded blankly at the wall before letting out a shaky breath. 

“I couldn’t escape you in life,” You said, “and I couldn’t escape from you in death.” A long moment of silence ensued as you gave his hands a firm squeeze. 

“I’ve been thinking,” You said, “I’ve spent the last 24 hours thinking. I love our daughter, I love her more than I ever thought possible. She deserves the life we never got, one with loving parents and a nice home.” A spark of hope lit up inside him. “There may never be a day where I will come to forgive you. I will always remember what you did and that will haunt me forever, and the guilt that people died because of me and I repay them by playing house with their murderer will weigh on my shoulders until the day I die.” Your thumb strokes his knuckles, “but I love my daughter more than anything, she is my world, moon and stars. And I want her to live as happily as possible, and if that means I have to learn to love you despite what you’ve done then that means that’s something I have to do.” Marc started crying in your lap, from relief or sadness he couldn’t tell. 

“Smile Marc,” you said as you lifted his head and he saw your sweet smile and bitter eyes, “You’ve won.” 

—

You had decided to name her Eva June Spector. Named after the new life she breathed into you, and for the month she was born in. 

Sure enough appearance wise she took after her father, tanned skin, dark and curly hair, even the nose was a smaller version of his. But her eyes, her eyes were the same as yours. 

Eva loved her father, and Marc was an amazing father, sure he blundered here and there. But he was nothing like his parents, and neither were you. 

There were moments of affection between you two, it was almost impossible when you're constantly reminded that you made something wonderful with this man, but some days were too much for you and you couldn’t stand to look at him or to have him touch you. But you shoved it down in front of your daughter. 

Because you would walk through hell with a smile on your face for her. 

When you came back from the hospital you knew you weren’t the only one trapped within this gated community. 

You knew Wanda was possessive, and with that she was extremely possessive of her wife. The same with the ex Captain of America, the Winter Soldier, the Black Widow. This entire gated community was full of trapped people. 

And as it rained outside and with baby Eva on your lap, you sat across from Marc, a sly smile on his face as he moved his piece on the chess board. 

“Checkmate”

TAGLIST:

@simonsbluee

@yuki235171

@dopeqff

@themapoftinyperfectthings

@later-gators12

@lovepeaceorelse

@ahookedheroespureheart

@8hgel

@onestopficshop

#moon knight smut #x reader #marvel x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #marvel #moon knight x reader #moon knight imagine #mcu moon knight #moon knight x y/n #dark!moonknight #dark steven grant x reader #dark marc spector x reader #dark jake lockely x reader #khonshu #mcu fandom #moon knight x reader smut #reader insert #female reader #x reader smut #marvel imagine #marvel fanfic #oscar issac

[jme-avi]

Midsommar (2019)

★★★★

(TW: suicide)

Spoilers are ridden throughout this review, so I recommend watching the movie before reading this.

This was quite a step from my horror movie comfort zone of slasher films and this is honestly a pretty good starter for psychological horror…it certainly was for me.

I get scared pretty easily. Do you guys remember that meme from a couple years back where that one guy would hack into your YouTube channel or something and it was made to scare small kids, Momo? I recently found that again while researching suicide cases for something I’m writing for my English class and I’m still quite shooketh. What fucking asshole came up with that? I was in Year 4. I was 9 years old. That shit hit me like a truck. I literally couldn’t sleep for weeks which is probably where my insomnia came from. Thanks Reddit, now I’m on 5mg of melatonin at the prime of my fucking youth. Children killed themselves over that and thank whatever God is up there I didn’t go further down the Reddit rabbit hole but anyway, the point stands. Psychological horror isn’t supposed to scare you, it’s supposed to unsettle you. And it does that very well…halfway into the movie.

One think I didn’t like was how. slow. moving. it was. Stuff definitely happens and I get that if it was shorter, nothing would make sense and there is a directors cut, I think, and I probably would have been better off watching that since my attention span is that of a goldfish on Lexapro but I didn’t. I watched the full 2 and a half hours and powered through the first hour, and I’m glad I did. You do feel like the main character Dani with the feeling of no escapism. You flew to Sweden, drove a four-hour drive, got drugged immediately and now what? Nothing. There’s no escape now. It’s a horrifying feeling and Ari Aster captures that well.

The gore in this movie, as well, is really good. Halfway into the movie, there is a ritual where the oldest people in the commune jump off of a fucking cliff and their bodies smush like clay…because it probably was clay. Tensions are high, especially with the people from London, Simon (god bless, rest in peace) and Connie which you feel in your bones, which I think captures a good horror movie.

The sex scene too is very uncomfortable; another thing that makes up a good horror movie. A girl from the commune, Maja, has her virginity taken by a drugged Christian and all the elder females circle around her, nude and mimic her moaning? It immediately makes you feel as though you’re watching something you shouldn’t be, especially when Dani sees this through a hole in the door and throws up. Coming from a person with emetophobia (fear of vomiting) I had to pause the movie and take a second. And when I got back, it only got worse, with all the other people mimicking Dani’s heaves and cries. Needless to say, I wasn’t sad when she chooses Christian to stuff in a gutted bear, and get burnt alive.

Yeah. This movie’s pretty fucked up.

Overall, I did enjoy this movie, and I’d definitely sit down and watch it again, which, in my books, makes it a pretty good movie.

My ask box is open if you would like to recommend other movies or shows for me to review!! Thank you for reading!

#midsommar #ari aster #movies #horror #movie review #midsommar review #letterboxd #unexplaend

[outlustings]

May I please request Sullivan Knoth headcanons with an outsider reader who he considers an unholy woman? Can you please include nsfw?

(OH NO OH YES you made me horny for papa knoth what do i do now????

this is pretty dark. includes violence and vomit and blood and all that stuff plus knoth being knoth. disturbing stuff i guess. also slight daddy kink? and impact play and degrading and aksjsj also reader is insane so TECHNICALLY dubcon? idk come to my house and slap me in the face for writing this.

nsfw below the cut.)

(SOMEWHAT) SFW

You thought it would be a good idea to take a hike in the rez lands. But something was terribly wrong in those mountains.

The insanely bright flashes of light, like the sun was burning up, even at nighttime. Your tongue felt like sandpaper. You lived your worst memories on those cliffs, again and again. What the fuck was happening? Your phone wasn't working, neither was your brain. Had it been days already?

Water. You needed water. You drank from a creek but it turned into wine, then blood, and you gagged and coughed and backed up, slipping on the round rocks. Then, numbing darkness.

You were found lying unconscious in the creek, soaked to the skin, with dried blood in your matted hair and a busted lip. Two of Knoth's followers found you. They didn't kill you. Maybe because they wanted to see the fear on your face as they brought you to your executioner.

They brought you to Temple Gate on the back of a donkey, your unconscious form slumped against its thin mane as people scattered from your way.

"Bring 'er to Papa. He'll handle'er."

They brought you to the chapel. Your eyes fluttered open slightly as thick fingers gripped your jaw. Knoth sees the color of your eyes. For a moment, he thinks of gemstones, before another man hit the back of your head with a shovel and you blacked out again, your eyes closing.

His stomach twists at the sight of you, crumpled on the floor. You reminded him of an old flame he had back when his world was in shambles, the way your lips looked, bloodied and dry, but so delicious. The way your chest rose and fell as you slept, not knowing where you were. Innocent. He hated your face. He knew he was gone already. And all it took was one look at you, and he knew he had to have you. No other will do anymore.

"Let 'er rest. When she wakes up, I'll be here. I'll be the judge."

You were slipping in and out of consciousness for days, your swimming vision full of him as he loomed over you in his chambers, stroking the hemp rope around your wrists and ankles. He prayed to God for forgiveness for his thoughts.

This outsider was too fascinating to him.

"My Bathsheba. My weakness, wrapped in wet cloth. Presenting yourself so innocent. You will carry my seed, bear my children, the new kings of this land. 'Twas not a sin when prophets fornicated with enemy peoples... God'll forgive me."

He should've slit your throat for coming to his flock, threatening their community. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. So he hid you. Spun his followers stories of how you need to be cleansed, how you were brought to him to be tamed.

He nurses you to health, tending to your wounds and rubbing your back gently as you vomit the bloody remnants of your concussion into a bucket on the dirt floor.

He talks very sweetly to you. Sparingly, but he does. He's somewhat afraid of what you've done to him.

He can't resist the urge to not only touch you but be touched by you. The way you cling to his arm as he offers you support and walks you back to the bed, the way your clammy hands reach for his as soon as you wake up from your night terrors.

He's always there. For days, you know nothing but him and the endless tortures in your pulsating brain. You prefer him. You prefer the scent of his sweat on your skin.

You hesitantly call out his name, an unfamiliar buzzing filling your ears. You long for his touch.

"Hush, child, I'm here with you. Won't let you go."

"My savior," you sigh, stroking his wrist as you screw your eyes shut, trying to relieve the headache stinging behind your eyes.

He freezes up. Maybe, just maybe he didn't have to kill you. Give you up to his followers. Maybe he didn't have to throw his Jezebel to the dogs.

"You got a home to go back to, darlin'?"

You wrack your brain, but all you can think of is the emptiness inside you and how you felt at home, here, surrounded by the stench of mildew and blood. Who were you again?

"Nuh-uh," you shake your head. It hurts. You can feel him grin against your knuckles as he lifts your hand to his lips.

NSFW

The mischievous glint in your eye makes Knoth weak. He can't resist you. He can't resist the way you drape your arms around his shoulders and kiss him needily.

The two of you fuck in the chapel more than you'd care to admit.

Missionary position, of course.

He'll fuck you against the altar, grunting as he thrusts into you, hand over your mouth as he tries to keep you quiet.

"Can't keep from moanin', huh? Greedy bitch, squeezing my cock so tight - take me quietly, that's it... Can't have them idiots walk in now."

Knoth loves fucking you with his tongue, eating you out until you're screaming and sobbing and trembling, until you've came so many times that your brain goes foggy.

He can torture you for hours on end. He loves hearing you scream and the way you gush against his fingers as he fucks you to completion over and over again. Serves you. His sinful, filthy goddess.

"Your cunt tastes like heaven," he chuckles against your swollen lips, massaging the slick flesh of the inside of your thighs as you clamp your legs around his shoulders, your mouth hanging open in a silent cry for more, "I can't hear ya, honey. Beg for it. Show your lust. Give thanks to your Papa."

Knoth will definitely bend you over his knee and spank you, maybe he'll even whip your ass with a belt, rubbing the pinkness, fascinated, as you whine and squirm against his erection.

He wants to hurt you so he can care for you later. Red welts on your ass that he'll soothe with soaked rags, kissing the tears from your cheeks.

It's a sick game, a sick tug of war as he's torn between tenderness for you and the primal need to ruin your body for his own pleasure, to control you.

He wants to train you to be his good little fucktoy.

"You deserve this. You've sinned in coming to me, you've sinned in tempting me."

Seeing him grin in a certain way as he fixes his good eye on you makes you so wet, because you know to anticipate your punishment. Your burning baptism in his cum.

You do have some power over him. With his throbbing cock in your mouth as he mumbles little pleas, gripping your hair as you swirl your tongue around him. When he's close, you have him. And you know it.

You could bite down and strike him and run away, far from him and his twisted cult, but you don't. You don't dare leave him, not when he fucks you so good, not when he strokes your cheek so gently, adoringly, after spilling his bitter cum down your throat, whispering praises to his unholy whore. You'd never leave him.

You know you belong to him and he knows, though he'd never admit it, he belongs to you. Completely.

#outlast 2 #outlast x reader #sullivan knoth #sullivan knoth x reader #not sfw #female reader #outlast headcanons #reader insert #let's play a game called count the bible references in this piece of smut #vomit / #blood / #outlast fanfiction

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Hi! It's an au twilight question.

What if Edward and Bella did the nasty in early New moon. Then the party happens and the Cullens leave. Bella discovers she's pregnant with Renesmee. What do you think what would happen?

A very interesting question, anon. One that will go very interesting places, I'm sure.

That said, as usual, because I'm a completionist, we have to go through the "why no canon?" routine. Bear with me, I simply must.

Why Didn't Edward and Bella Do the Nasty Pre-Breaking Dawn?

For all that Edward is, for all his... questionable morals and sexual fixations, he does have a moral code he strictly holds himself to.

Edward is adamantly against having sex with Bella in terror of the very real possibility that he will murder her in the act. He's very clear about this, he didn't think he could do it, at all, and only his sheer desperation that Bella never be turned, his desire to marry Bella, as well as Alice's thumbs up convinced him to do it.

If Bella was a reasonable person then she would have agreed as well. Sex with Edward, while she's human, is a bad idea. However, Bella never really seems to clue in on what vampires even are so I think the Man of Steel on Woman of Kleenex aspect is lost on her.

Had Alice not given the green light, I imagine Edward would have gone back to the drawing board and ended up either here or here. Bella turning is the worst possible outcome and Edward will risk almost anything, even Bella's death, to see it avoided.

But that doesn't mean it's an action he takes lightly.

He suggests pimping Bella out to Jake before he suggests sleeping with her himself. For Edward, this is a last resort.

More, Edward is a man of his time.

Edward was from an upper class family and, more to the point, still holds himself to the standards of the society he knew when human (much to Bella's amusement).

Edward wistfully talks about courting Bella, how he would have courted her had he been a true man in the time period he was familiar with, and why marriage to him is so very important.

That Edward doesn't seek out the approval of Charlie, Bella's father, is a hilarious aside to me. Edward's all about chivalry until all those old society standards get in his way.

What do you mean a gentleman doesn't sneak into a lady's apartments in the middle of the night to watch her slumber unawares?!

Regardless, marriage is extremely important to Edward, especially in the context of sex.

Edward will absolutely not have sex with a woman who is not first his wife. He also will not marry a girl that society defines as underage, he will wait until Bella's legal and probably until she finishes her primary schooling.

This means Edward was never likely to have sex with her before graduation and certainly not before her eighteenth birthday.

Which, at the earliest, puts her past the New Moon birthday bash.

Edward and Bella Do the Do Anyway

But let's pretend they do it anyway.

I'd say the most likely scenario is after the birthday disaster. This is it, Edward knows he is leaving Bella forever, if he is truly noble then he will never see her again.

Certainly, he will never interact with her nor hold her in his arms. To Edward, this is essentially his last true night on Earth.

So rather than pull a partial D.E.N.N.I.S. system, Edward pulls the full D.E.N.N.I.S. system, he initiates the "I" he was previously missing, "Inspire Hope". Or, in this case, get laid for the first and only time in his life.

He sneaks in through her window. They make beautiful, passionate, tepid love so Edward does not crush her in the act, and as she sleeps blissfully in the aftermath he sneaks back out the window to never be seen again.

(It takes Bella a week to admit that Edward just hit and run. The Cullens aren't coming back.)

However, because Edward didn't actually point blank tell her what was happening, rather than hit her New Moon stage of depression, Bella's instead in denial.

The Cullens are coming back. What, Carlisle has a new job? No, that can't be right, they're coming back. Alice would never leave her without a word. Edward would never leave her without a word.

Jessica pats Bella on the back consolingly and is secretly glad that it's not her. She might have been dumped by Edward Cullen, but at least he didn't humiliate her the way he did Bella Swan.

Leaving without a single word, yikes.

Two weeks go by then Bella gets the flu.

In a single day, she's unable to keep down anything. Huh, that's weird. Very quickly, Bella has her tampon epiphany. Bella is not a virgin, she had sex with Edward, she's late, and she appears to have a baby bump.

Bella is carrying Edward's child.

There is no question of aborting the child. This is Edward's child, the only piece she has left of him, even without Renesmee's gift it's ride or die. Bella is delivering this child even if it kills her.

However, she has some immediate issues.

First, she's visibly pregnant, it's been only two weeks. That's not supposed to happen. More, Charlie is bound to notice sooner rather than later, Bella would like to avoid that, the stigma of teen pregnancy, as well as the inhuman complications that are sure to come along.

Second, there's inhuman complications. Bella can't just go to an OBGYN, not even a town over. She's carrying something half human, a doctor will poke around and find that out, and then Bella's blowing the secret.

Bella knows vaguely of the Volturi at this point, but not the severity of the law, it's more that she promised Edward she would never tell a soul.

Plus, a human doctor wouldn't be able to help anyway.

That leaves vampires.

Bella tries to call/email the Cullens. However, thanks to Edward, all their numbers are disconnected and all their emails no longer exist. Her "Alice, help, I'm pregannant" messages are sent to a void.

(Alice, meanwhile, thinks she's finally successful in blocking visions of Bella. At least Edward will be off her back. Without the cliff diving and Jake, Alice does not assume Bella has died/committed suicide.)

A brief internet survey also yields Bella no results, but it does get her a lot of vampire porn. Thanks internet.

Bella... starts to get worried.

She's getting more and more pregnant in a matter of days, Charlie is starting to notice that she can't keep anything down, and the Cullens aren't taking her phone calls.

Then, Bella has it, she remembers that weird baroque painting Carlisle had of him and those Italian vampire dudes: the Volturi. Conveniently named after the city they live in, Volterra, Italy.

Bella debates her options.

Edward told her that these are the guys who make sure that humans who know the secret disappear. Well, Bella is a human who knows the secret, that's bad. Also bad is that they eat people, Bella is a person.

On the other hand, Edward implied these guys are civilized and friends of Carlisle. That's... good? Bella isn't sure she's on good terms with the Cullens, given the whole abrupt leaving thing, but maybe they don't have to know that.

Bella debates with herself, tries to look up the Denali, and only finds the National Park. She has no idea where these guys even live, or what they even look like besides "blonde hot vampire", and she's short on time. Plus, they are close with the Cullens, so the Cullens probably did tell them "Ew, Bella, No Gross, Do Not Want".

Because the Cullens all hate her now.

Bella has some money saved up, and this is probably a one way trip, and if she doesn't go then... well, it's not looking good. Bella musters up her courage, tells Charlie some outrageous fib to explain why she's disappearing off the face of the planet, and books a flight to Rome, then Pisa, then a bus ride to Volterra.

Bella subsists completely on blue gateorade, this doesn't go well, and she vomits blue in the parking lot.

Regardless, she makes it, huzzah she is in Volterra. It's sunny out and there are no vampires. Bella wanders around the city and looks for the most vampire building she can find.

Luckily, she happens to be right, and it's the very central castle. Well done, Bella.

Bella walks in and spots a vampire. She also spots a receptionist, Bella is very confused. Never the less, Bella says the magic words, "I'm a... friend of Carlisle Cullen?"

Even though Bella doesn't have Aro's name (or any of the other Volturi for that matter), Carlisle's name does the trick. Anyone who works for Aro knows that name.

Color Aro intrigued, he will meet this pregnant woman! (Caius, meanwhile, votes that they eat her immediately out of spite.)

Well, Aro touches her hand and lo and behold she's scarily gifted. And she knows Carlisle, what a great day to be Aro.

Aro explains that everything's totally fine with her knowing the secret, it just means they have to turn her eventually, after she gives birth of course.

Bella stares at him numbly and wonders why Edward made this such a big deal if it was that easy.

Aro insists Bella start from the beginning, as in the very beginning of her life. This is weird, but Bella complies.

An hour later they get to the interesting part: Bella meets Carlisle (and Edward Cullen, Aro guesses). Aro gets to hear the whole, sordid, ridiculous tale of Bella and Edward's romance including the part where he fucked her and ran off into the night.

Aro is stunned.

He first apologizes for the Cullens behavior, they should absolutely not have abandoned her, and not turning her was completely irresponsible (what the hell was Carlisle thinking?)

He then gives the bad news, he... has never heard of anything like this.

You see, normal vampires don't have sex with humans. It isn't done.

Also, there's this thing called Immortal Children (Edward tell you about that, no? Well, he probably thought it wasn't relevant). That thing your carrying might not be a child capable of growth but an insatiable monster.

Or it could be the alien from Aliens.

There's no way to tell, really.

BUT NO NEED TO WORRY, BELLA, THEY WILL FIGURE THIS OUT.

Aro promises Bella his protection and a period of observation for the child. Bella's not sure she likes that observation part, but this seems like a pretty sweet deal otherwise.

As for what to do, well, Aro has to call in the foremost vampire medical expert. Sorry, Bella, but there's only one man for the job.

Aro sends out Demetri to find Carlisle.

Demetri shows up on Carlisle's doorstep, "Carlisle, old friend, Aro has need of you. Your son knocked up a human girl."

Carlisle blinks, blinks again, then does a thousand yard stare. My God.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, Edward is already on Victoria's tail. Carlisle tries to call him, to no avail, Edward isn't taking his phone calls.

Alice and Jasper are already on their trip to hunt down Alice's past. Plus, given the Volturi, they'd be unlikely to come anyway. Carlisle sends them a message.

Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie, and Emmett travel to Volterra to clean up Edward's mess.

And sure enough, there's Bella, very pregnant with a child that is very much not human. Carlisle dies inside, Rosalie's on a warpath that Edward would abandon his pregnant girlfriend to the point where the only place she could turn was human drinking vampires.

Rosalie takes it upon herself to leave Edward the world's angriest voice messages until he returns her phone calls.

Aro's delighted to see Carlisle again. Even if he does have a wife now. Also, Aro claims finders keepers for Bella, Carlisle's not happy about this and less happy that Aro points out that if Edward cared so much he wouldn't be absent right now, would he?

They figure out the blood drinking thing, Carlisle desperately raids a hospital to prevent Bella from being fed the leftovers of the Volturi victims. This likely doesn't work out for him.

At the last possible moment, Edward finally picks up his phone. He learns that all he's tried to accomplish failed spectacularly. Bella is pregnant with his demon child, is literally drinking blood, and is in Vampire HQ with the leader insisting she will be turned immediately after the C-section.

Edward races to Volterra and strides into the room demanding Bella be aborted and remain human.

Aro stares.

Carlisle awkwardly explains that Bella's too far along, it's too late now even if they wanted to, more she adamantly doesn't want to abort and never did.

As for Bella being human... Bella pipes in that she's cool on becoming the vampire part. Aro's a great guy. She then races to embrace Edward, he's come back, after all this time. And he's going to be a father, isn't that wonderful?

Edward loses his mind.

And because this is Edward, I have no idea what he'll do, only it'll be utter madness. This is my best guess.

To be a little more serious, he probably tries to abort the child anyway, he mercy kills Bella and the child, or Renesmee manages to get through to him.

Given canon, it's likely the latter. Bella is convinced that her and Edward's relationship is perfect.

Aro has no idea what to think of any of this.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #bella swan #edward cullen #edward/bella #anti edward/bella #carlisle cullen #the volturi #aro #caius #demetri #rosalie hale #alice cullen #the cullens #the denali #meta #headcanon #opinion

[recklessmark]

chapter one: flechazo

—from DISCRETION series

Summary: you incidentally met a notorious CEO and your gut told you that you must claim this man. and even the fact that he’s engaged to someone else didn’t stop you from achieving what you want.

Pairing: CEO! Mark x Designer! Reader

Words: 1419

Warning (this chapter): none

(flechazo means falling in love at the first sight)

The loud music of the bar blasting in your ears, the scent of those liquor filling your nostrils. Colorful led lights flashing, the people here are either filthy rich spendthrifts or debauched players.

Of course can not forget our signorina, a truly prominent designer, Miss Y/N Y/L/N.

You lay your back on the chair, crossing your legs. You have been looking at that one exact direction for ages, rossy glistening in your eyes, a slight curl displays on your lips.

“What are you looking at?”

Alicia asks, having no clue what catches your eyes since she’s sitting opposite you. But by observing your facial expression, she thinks that you have found your new prey. Couldn’t hold herself from curiosity, Alicia turns around to see the thing that grabbed your attention. After a moment glancing around the place, she finally finds that one bewitching ‘thing’.

“Y/N, you’re looking at him?!” Following Alicia’s finger, you nodded. She went blank for seconds and then frantically shakes her head. “Y/N, don’t play with fire. That man looks hot but inside him is a cruel, merciless monster!”

You didn’t look away from the man, nor blinking, however, feeling annoyed when your friend is babbling around your ears. “How could you know?”

“My dad told me! He’s the CEO of the NCT’s company, frankly a monster! Y/N look, a twenty-two-year old man only took a few years to have a blatant status around the world. Even my dad had it 15 years to be successful. You should know, that whole human being is not simple!”

In general, she’s trying to forbid you anyway.

You tilt your head to the side, “Isn’t it interesting?”. All of your ex boyfriends are the typical filthy rich young masters, they only know how to waste money buying luxury stuffs for you, as long as you like. Moreover, they are nothing but deadbeats.

Boring!

What you want, who you want, is the man right before your eyes. He exudes a strong charm that you can’t even take your eyes of him. That majestic look, the arrogant face holds a pale smile which makes you feel that the whole world is collapsing in front of him. Suddenly you thought of an intention to subdue him, you must claim his heart at all cots.

The strong will in your eyes makes Alicia frightened. You were born in a high-class wealthy family so your biggest merit is prosperous and your defect is having a lot of money. Therefore it’s not strange when there are many guys having a crush on you. Until now, the number of your ex can be counted to dozens, even Alicia herself doesn’t play that much. It’s a fact that you just simply enjoy being loved by people, you have never been serious in your relationship. But this time she can not find any joking on your gorgeous face, there’s even determination and seriousness which makes her startled.

“Y/N! Y/N! Are you fucking crazy?!”

Alicia wildly yelled but you do not care, keep stepping towards the man. You know, you certainly know what you’re doing is insane but you still do it anyways. You can’t help yourself when those eyes looked at you, it’s like you’re standing on a mountain cliff. Even that faint smile, it’s a perfect cover and you want to ruin it instantly. The closer your distance is, the faster your heart beats. Your body is filling with both excitement and anxiety. The stripper of the bar is clinging on him, her hand comes to draw on his chest and suddenly she stands up to sit on his lap. The entire scene is captured in your eyes.

If there’s someone who is lunatic at the point no one can beat them, Alicia wants to give that award to you. You truthfully don’t know how outrageous Mark Lee is. Moreover, Alicia’s dad said that that guy is also one of the most infamous mafia boss, once he shows up, everyone is persuaded.

You’re facing Mark now, your stunning face is like a sparkle in the darkness, an irresistible smile appears on your lips.

“Mark Lee, I want you to be my man!”

One sentence, truly makes everyone frightened. Some are so scared that they don’t even dare to look, some are so thrilled to see what’s happening next.

How about Mark Lee?

His doe-eyes, glistening with some menace, is carefully observing you. Though, you didn’t faze, confidently facing him, pretend like you don’t feel the danger he’s radiating. You can affirm that this is absolutely the boldest thing you have ever done.

“You? You’re genuinely enchanting but daredevil like that, you must be an idiot. You’re insisting Mr Lee, who do you think you are?”, the stripper scornfully mocks you.

With this type of people, you don’t want to waste your time, “If I didn’t know who he is, I wouldn’t call him Mark Lee. Furthermore, there’s no need to know who I am, you only need to know I have money and I’m asking a man to be my boyfriend, it’s totally a normal thing!” Your words is like a knife, scratching her skin. “Oh, and put your hand off my man and get out of my way please!”

“Who are you to tell me to go?!”, she talks back.

“Enough! Go now!”, a low warm voice speaks up, like a cut in an intense string.

You cross your arms on your chest, not only appearance, even his voice is appealing.

“Still don’t want to go?”

You tilt your head, glancing at the stripper, “You really think that he told me to go?”

She frowns, thinking that you’re talking nonsense, “What else-“. She turns her head to the side, catching Mark’s sharp eyes, causing her to almost pass out.

“I said, you, go!”

The woman immediately stands up and quickly walks away, but she didn’t forget to give you a hateful look. You don’t care, your eyes are still sparkling with admiration towards Mark. She really ruined your bougie reputation. You naturally step forwards to take a seat next to Mark. Almost everybody was fazed, except of one man, Jung Jaehyun, who is smiling softly at you.

“You’re honestly attractive.”, he said.

You really don’t know if it’s a back-handed compliment. However you still be respectful, “Thank you!”

On the other hand, Mark Lee is quietly sitting there, the faint smirk is disappeared, even the red liquor in the glass is gone. Until now you can genuinely smile, “Hi! I’m Y/N L/N, the one and only daughter of the Secrectary of the Treasury. I really like you! Be my boyfriend, how about it?”

Jaehyun is sitting opposite, almost choked on his drink when he heard you introduction. And Mark Lee, from the beginning, has been simply looking at you with the different eyes from usual. Jaehyun shakes his head, “Y/N you should back off, he has already engaged with his fiancé.”

“Is she beautiful? Does she has a lot of money like me?”, you seriously ask.

Jaehyun doesn’t know how to say this, he silently look at Mark. “Pretty thing, she’s nothing compared to you but Mark loves her, a lot.”

Immediately, you raise your head up to give Jaehyun a glance, “Oh so it’s definitely that typical pathetic love. I don’t care!”

This answer...

Being brought through one by one surprise, Jaehyun feverishly chuckles, he walks towards you, “How can you be that sure?”, his face is an inch from yours.

You frown, pushing him away, “I can’t stand the alcohol scent!”

Can not stand alcohol scent.

“So why would you sit next to Mark this close? He drinks champagne!”, Jaehyun’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

You lay your back on the couch, “Because I like Mark, I like whatever he does.”, you casually say. Jaehyun almost wanted to vomit all of the food that had been consumed in his stomach, your words were too lovey-dovey, weren’t they?

Suddenly, the one who has been keeping quite speaks up. “What drink?”

No one can understand Mark’s instant movement, however, you turn your head smiling widely at him.

“Mocktail!”

Alicia approaches you from a long distance, she has been perceiving everything. “Y/N, we have to go.”, she shoves her phone in her jacket, although she didn’t say anything, both of you still understand.

You take a deep breath, trying to ease the anxiety on your face. “Goodbye, we will meet again!”, you stand up, giving Mark the last smile.

Jaehyun looks at two figures walking away, wondering what happened.

—next: chapter two-encounter

this is slightly slow-burn y’all, please be impatient, they’re not going to fuck from the first chapter. 💀

©️  DREAMYKRAM. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

taglist: @nuoyii @jjikyuu @generantionct @keemburley

#nct mark #mark lee #mark lee smut #mark scenarios #nct smut #mark smut #mark blurbs #mark lee imagines #mark lee scenarios #mark drabbles #mark imagines #mark boyfriend #mark lee blurbs #mark lee drabbles #nct mark lee #mark lee boyfriend #nct blurbs #nct u smut #nct imagines #nct x reader #nct scenarios #discretion

[dergonageloser]

Content warning: Death, mild gore

N'wen Mahariel isn't an expressive person. They're often reserved with their thoughts, rarely speaking unless necessary. It's how they've always been, their guardians even bringing it up to the Keeper as a child. Children don't usually stare out into the forest or the sky just Watching. Always watching. The Keeper only said that N'wen had been blessed by the Creators with a keen eye and unwavering focus on their surroundings. What more could they ask for in a clan of hunters? What did it matter that they couldn't look you in the eye when you spoke to them, or constantly twisted anything like a rope or twig into rough braids?

Hunting for food is only the beginning. N'wen picks up tracking as easy as breathing. Even days-old trails becomed clear for them to read. It's like they see patterns invisible to even the most experienced hunters. When asked about it, N'wen frowns and, after a moment of thinking, says "It's not seeing what's in front of you as it is. It's seeing what it would be had our prey not gone this way."

Most people stopped asking.

Except, of course, for Tamlen.

"We stopped finding actual tracks ten minutes ago," he says as he follows N'wen downhill. At twelve, just a year younger than N'wen, Tamlen is still a scrawny thing with a pitchy, cracking voice. "The rain this morning probably washed everything away, what are you even following?"

N'wen doesn't glance back, watching instead the soggy earth beneath them. The incline of the hill had allowed water to rush down and form temporary rivulets in the mud. More mud than the usual rains brought. N'wen turns their head further east, where the hill steepened gradually until slopes became cliffs. The forest's numerous trees blocked their vision, but they nod to themself.

"I think there was a mudslide over that way," they say.

Tamlen pauses. "Wait, really? How can you tell?"

With a solemn expression, N'wen touches their nose and replies, "Smells different."

For a long moment, Tamlen considers. Then declares, "Halla-shit."

A small quirk of N'wen's lips is the only thing that gives them away. Tamlen laughs.

He stops laughing, however, when they find the mudslide. An entire column of the cliff had collapsed into the narrow valley below, forming a river of mud and clay and rock and burying everything in it's path.

Including, it seems, someone unfortunate enough to be in the valley at the time. A pair of legs stuck in odd angles out of a pile of debris.

"Is that--?" Tamlen gasps, a heavy sick forming in his stomach.

"Not ours," N'wen says, voice soft but firm.

Tamlen can't pull his eyes away. "How are you sure?"

N'wen considers, then points at the feet. "No one at home wore boots today."

The mud is so thickly caked on the person's feet that Tamlen can't even tell.

"Are they--?" Tamlen starts.

N'wen doesn't respond, simply picks their way down the sodden slope towards the body. Their bare toes sink lightly into the ground, careful not to shift anything too much.

Tamlen immediately follows, but not without concern. "There could be another mudslide."

They look towards the cliffs, scrutinizing it, as though reading it's broken face. It was eerie the way their eyes became both focused and distant at the same time. N'wen had tried describing it to him once. Something like, "Seeing everything at once, both as it is and as it was." It's sound tracking advice, used by the clans more skilled hunters, but N'wen seemed to be able to memorize every place they've been to down to the smallest detail. Tamlen imagines that they're comparing the image in their mind to what's before them.

So Tamlen is willing to believe them when they say, "There will be, but not for another few hours at least."

Still, he gives the cliffs a glance, peering for whatever N'wen saw. With a sigh he pads down after them.

N'wen scans the debris burying the unfortunate person. They circle around, poking at a few rocks and branches here and there. Tamlen watches them, figuring it best to let them do their work. He keeps an eye and an ear on the area around them, in case another part of the cliff decides to fall on top of them.

Or if someone comes looking for the nameless body.

N'wen's hand clutches at the edge of a rock positioned at a specific point under the rest of the debris, testing it. They gingerly step over the protruding feet to look more closely.

After a moment, they wave their hand at Tamlen, who quickly steps closer. N'wen pulls out a wooden training dagger and points to a few broken tree limbs about them. "Prop some of those up around here." They point in specific spots, each one looking no different from the last.

Tamlen wants to ask why for Creator's sake, but he's never been one to doubt N'wen when their brow has that certain tightness, their a certain rigid. They wouldn't be dissuaded from their task. So he follows their lead.

Once done, N'wen motions for him to step back. Then, they dig the edge of the wooden dagger between their chosen rock. It takes several long moments, and a few slips of N'wen's fingers, for them to dislodge the stone from under the pile of debris.

When it was almost completely loose, N'wen drops the dagger and pulls gently with their hands. It slides free, and they leap out of the way as all of the debris collapses and slides further down into the valley. The tree limbs block the largest rubble from covering the rest of the body.

It isn't yet uncovered, but N'wen's cleverness had removed the heaviest debris with the least energy. Tamlen didn't have time to be amazed before they were diving back towards the body and digging at the loosened earth with their dagger.

Tamlen glances at the sun. They need to be back at camp before it sets, and it's already begun it's descent to the horizon. The valley in particular would darken more quickly.

He pulls out his own training dagger and gets to work helping them.

It takes at least half an hour, but the two manage to finally uncover the whole body. Mangled, bloodied, broken. The mud caked on their skin and clothes cover any gashes or flesh wounds, but arms aren't supposed to bend like that. Neither are necks. The skull looks misshapen, their nose crushed and their jaw hanging loose.

N'wen reaches towards the head. Their fingers tenderly wipe mud from around the ears first. Round, but coming to a soft point.

"I don't know any half-elves," Tamlen offered, unsure why he needed to say that but saying it anyway.

N'wen doesn't respond, their fingers moving to where the eyes would be. Tamlen thinks about stopping them, but fears if he opens his mouth he'd vomit. The thick grains of rock and clay fall away from a pair of half open eyes.

As Tamlen considers turning to find a good place to toss his lunch back up, N'wen finally presses their hand over the corpse's eyes to close them.

Their face is impassive, relenting nothing. But Tamlen sees how they hang their head for a moment and knows that they're mourning. A stranger, most likely. But a stranger that had been alive just hours ago.

"Do you think anyone's gonna be looking for them?" Tamlen asks.

N'wen raises their head a little, looking deeper into the valley. They're quiet, contemplating their breath and how easily it can be taken away.

"Does it matter?" they murmur after a time. "The dead don't care what happens after they die."

Tamlen sighs and finds a rock dry enough to sit on. "It would matter to the people they left behind." He picks up his wooden dagger again and starts flipping it. His chest feels heavy. "If I went missing suddenly, even I died, I think... I'd want someone to find me. Just so no one's left guessing." One flip misses his fingers and catches roughly on his knuckles. He winces. "I don't think I could handle not knowing, if it was any of the clan. My mother. You. So yeah, I think it matters a little, you know?"

Tamlen looks up to see that N'wen, without him noticing, had moved to stand in front of him. They had that pinch in their brow. Their short, curly hair dusted with dried mud hung around their dark face. Their eyes, a warm gold, looked directly into his. So rare was such that he finds himself surprised at how intense their stare could be.

"I would look for you," N'wen tells him. Their soft voice even quieter now.

Tamlen let's himself hold their gaze for as long as possible. Then, he smiles, a sad thing though it is, and says, "I know you would. I'd look for you too."

They eventually make their way back to camp, only able to forage for whatever berries and mushrooms the forest offered since they'd missed their chance to properly hunt. Tamlen tells the Keeper of the body and describes where he and N'wen had dragged it; namely, out of the immediate danger of the valley. A part of him thinks most of the clan would have left the corpse where it was, but he and N'wen had wordlessly agreed otherwise.

The Keeper's eyes soften with sympathy, and she has a small party organized to retrieve the corpse. It wouldn't receive a Dalish burial, she tells them, but they would give it the respect the dead deserved.

N'wen doesn't speak of it again, but Tamlen remembers their promise as years pass. Every time they part ways, however briefly, he accepts the possibility of never seeing each other again, because sometimes it happens. Sometimes you're unlucky enough to be in the wrong valley at the wrong time. But knowing that no matter what, he and N'wen would always look for each other, eased the worst of his fears.

When they share their first tentative kisses, they seal the final anchor in each other's hearts. Tethered together to their promise. Hot breath and fluttering pulses prove their life. N'wen always finds him first, always sees when he needs them.

Reserved as they were, Tamlen sees the emotions the rest of the clan stopped looking for. The need to keep him safe. Their nervousness when they first tugged at his collar to press their lips to his. The quiet laughs they give when he makes stupid jokes. Their unwavering loyalty to those they loved.

He cares little about what his mother or clanmates might believe. N'wen likely feels love stronger than anyone, Tamlen included. He thinks that's what pushes them to become a scout, to ensure their clan's safety by using their talent to spot dangers before they occurred.

Knowing that he's earned the friendship and affection of the best tracker in Fereledan gives him confidence each time he left camp. It's written in his heart now, their promise, and he holds it close.

Even as the taint chokes his breath and poisons his blood, as he stumbles blindly from the cavern where his best friend lay unconscious. They'll survive, they were always the stronger one. His body moves beyond his own control and he weeps, he weeps knowing N'wen will never stop looking for him. He weeps, because they will find something worse than a corpse.

He weeps even more from the relief, the certainty that N'wen will be the last thing he sees.

Time becomes meaningless as an instinct not his own draws him to other ghouls and darkspawn. Sometimes he follows them. Sometimes they follow him. The sickly song in his head grows stronger each moment until it's all he can hear.

He holds on by a thread. A thought. He'd clutched viciously at it when the song of the Old God tears everything else away and strips him of his being. His own name fades under it's horrible voice. But not this.

N'wen will find him. Or he will find N'wen. And they will know.

And he does find them. After endless nights battling the urge to snarl and howl and tear throats out with his teeth. He finds them with strangers, and he sees the moment their golden eyes recognize his under his marred, rotting skin.

"Tamlen," N'wen chokes out.

He lets his name settle in his mind once more. He sinks into their hold, relishing their warmth even as the song urged him to sink his teeth in their flesh. They hold a dagger, a metal one instead of wood, steady above his chest despite their quivering mouth.

"I looked for you," N'wen whispers.

Tamlen closes his eyes. The dagger points downward behind his collarbone, the most direct way to his heart. His voice is barely a croak.

"I know you did, Lethallan."

#dragon age #dragon age: origins #mahariel #tamlen #i don't know where this came from actually #but now im sad #so now yall get to be sad #n'wen mahariel #nonbinary warden

[sinqrowithascythe]

Torn Families, a RWBY story

Hello there! it has been a few days now and the story is ready, so here it is!

Just a warning first though, this story does feature gore, character deaths and angst.

Everyone had their reasons for attending Beacon academy, and most would tell you without so much as a second thought.

“As a girl, I wanted to be just like those heroes in the story books... Someone who fought for what was right, and protected people who couldn't protect themselves!” Ruby Rose, 15yr old combat prodigy and leader of team RWBY.

Others, however, aren’t as comfortable in disclosing the truth about their circumstances, like: The beautiful, yet closed off Blake Belladonna, Faunus in hiding and secret Ex-White Fang agent.

“The White Fang is hardly a bunch of psychopaths. They're a collection of misguided Faunus.”

Most would assume that this is where the list ends, but there is another. A third option, or category, where they’ve been truthful but they just haven’t shared the full truth.

This is where the scraggly hero of our fable is found.

When asked for the reasons behind which Jaune Arc has strived to be a Hunter and train in Beacon (which is a regular occurrence among the student body, it’s pretty obvious why), our bumbling blonde will reply with something along the lines of “To become a hero” …. “To become a great Hunter, like the warriors in my family” or “To help people” which is true….

But…there’s more to it, there always is.

Rarely does someone ever question the reason he chose this path or after any event that led to such a decision, but it does happen occasionally. Some of the first conversations with his friends and even Ms. Goodwitch herself raised the question, with Jaune himself being quick to dismiss it or just repeat himself. Forcing the subject to be left alone question, with, replacing the young Arcs would-be interrogators interests with dissatisfaction and a quick change of topic. This is where the truth remains hidden, a burden laid heavily on our young Knight’s shoulders, where he intends to keep them.

But that wouldn’t make an interesting story, so here we go!

This tale sheds light upon that which our very own Jaune Arc would keep hidden, partially for the sake of his friends, but also to keep Jaune from crying himself to sleep… again…

Long before Jaune was launched from the school’s cliff faces into the emerald forests or the acquisition of his “Vomit Boy” moniker, as courtesy of Yang, the Arc found a burning resolve to fight the creatures of Grimm and protect those who could not protect themselves that rivalled the very star he stood under.

The Arc family estate was a large, dark brick house held deep within a forest, found on an island located beyond the western coast of Sanus. Close enough to still be considered a part of the kingdom, but also far enough for people to be left in relative peace from large city environments, bandits and any extremely dangerous Grimm.

Here, the Arc family lived and prospered, laughed and loved for days and years on end, with the only real worries being the evil bath times and dreaded bedtimes, family’s patriarch receiving minor wounds from guarding the small island village (But everyone just said he looked cooler anyway, so it’s a win!) or the sisters engaging into yet another fight over something that seemed to shake the very foundations of reality to them at the time.

“That’s MY hairbrush!!”

“You have, like, 10, just let me borrow this one!”

The house was run by the matriarch and the eldest of the sisters when their father was away, keeping Grimm from presenting danger to the village where they lived. The younger sisters and Jaune often played their days away, when their mother wasn’t home schooling them in the study where she spent most of her time, even outside the education of her children.

One sunny, beautiful day, with the sun was streaming through the leaves and trees and bringing light and life to all the woodland, waking to every insect, animal and plant found within, this family would be shattered.

The green glow of the forest created a feeling similar to a protective aura of warmth and protection. Here, the four youngest Arcs find themselves running past all manner of compassionate and cool streams with looming, yet comforting trees, hiding amidst the natural playground formed by the rocks of landslides long past and prickly piles of twigs that once held strong to their larger companions. The day was not unlike any other the children had been allowed to previously play in, perfect.

The juvenile Arcs were playing their usual rounds of “Hide and Seek” or “Tag” or some of their own invention, when the eldest of the assembled four found an oddity, one which had never caught her attention before. The Arc estate held no boundaries, save the forest itself as it was separated by a long stripe of a field before another forest began, not five meters away from their own, yet the children had never travelled, nor noticed this odd circular emptiness beyond their own patch of trees. “Yeah, that is weird” The three younger members of the Arc clan agreed, “Let’s try playing in that other forest! I bet there’ll be even better hiding spots and even bigger trees to play in!”

And so, they did just that.

Back at the Arc family homestead

The eldest four daughters of the house were treated to a rather large shock while preparing lunch as their mother had, seemingly from no-where, screeched “NOO!” like a banshee might and flung herself out of her chair, falling to their kitchen floor. You see, Jaune’s mother was paralysed, on the account that after her thighs reached halfway down, they were missing, an incident that predated Jaune’s memory and of which she refused to speak, hoping she never had to tell her children and shatter their innocence. And though it placed her within a wheel chair that stopped her from performing the tasks that the oldest of the Arc spawn find themselves occupied with most days, her smile was as radiant and genuine as when her first child was born, finding real purpose in her role as a mother.

Each did their best to help their fallen mother, only to be thrown aside, much harder than they even knew their mother could push. “One of you, run to the village wall as fast as you can, find your father, tell him that Jaune and the triplets have left the stave!”

“Why?” “What does that mean?” “Huh?” Each questioned, their faces twisted with confusion and fear.

“Just GO! Right now! We don’t have time!” The oldest among the females of the home all but roared at her children, her terror evident on her face, scaring the 4 younger women. Pushing her fear aside, the eldest to ran out the door and sprinted down the trail into the town, where the guard and her father stood vigilantly, while her younger two sisters helped their mother back into her chair and checked to see what had happened.

“Mom, what’s happening?” “You scared us” “Why’d you tell Saph to get dad?”

“I’m fine, but your siblings are in danger…”

“How? We thought they were playing outside” “Yeah, they play in the forest every day! Why’s it so dangerous all of a sudden?”

“Hmmmmm…. The forest that surrounds the house is… special, you’ve seen how there’s something of a circle-like-field around the house cutting us of from the rest of the woods?” She questioned, obviously impatient and uncomfortable, much to the dismay of her daughters, never before seeing her so scared in their lives.

“Yeah” “uh-huh” They replied in kind.

“Well, your mother has a special power and can sense, and almost see, what happens in this circle, if you can imagine” Chuckling the last part, the nerves still very present in her voice. “Normally, your siblings always play in this circle, where it’s safe and where I can see them, but, because we live so far from town the woods next to ours can be filled with scary, dangerous creatures. I don’t know why, but, the triplets and Jaune have wandered into that forest and your father needs to find them, before something bad can happen.” looking away through the kitchen window, into the picturesque scene of the serene forest outside.

Meanwhile, Jaune and his elder sisters were playing a renewed game of tag in their new playground, their eldest sister rushing for her father, while the three under her found comfort in their mother, as a new found fear grew for their youngest sibling’s lives. This new version of tag involved a “Strength in Numbers” strategy, where the title of tag didn’t pass on to another player after contact, but spread so that the match only ended when everyone was ‘it’, basically creating two teams of ever-growing chasers and continually dwindling chase-ies.

Jaune, despite taking part and enjoying himself immensely in the game, found himself growing rather nervous, as he could have sworn, he had heard his mother mention not to go into the forest beyond their own at some point before, but none of his sisters could remember and said he just imagined it. Which inevitably led to them teasing him and saying he was a “Scaredy cat!” which, to a seven-year-old boy, was an offence of the highest order. So, with new resolve and determination, Jaune played with his sisters in the forest, running deeper and deeper into the unknown woods, finding a new and magical parts of the surrounding nature with each new game.

Nothing, it seemed, could go wrong for out four young Arcs, however, we all know what follows these kinds of observations.

The fight had started as nothing more than a simple debate. “I SO DID tag you!”

“Nu-uh! You only got my dress!”

“Did not! I tapped your shoulder! You’re it too now!” “Nu-uh” “So, too!”

This repeated for a few minutes, the two eldest of the triplets bickered back and forth until…

“Jaune!” Both shouted in unison, the fire in their eyes and voices startling the poor boy “Y-yeah?” His anxiety growing, as each girl looked ready to throttle one another all the way home.

“I totally got her, right!?” “No, she sooo missed me, you saw right!?”

“Uhhh…” Was his only response. Truth be told, Jaune hadn’t seen the incident in question, he was too busy trying not to get caught himself, he only came up to them when he saw they were fighting again, wanting to help.

“C’mon! I’m fine, right!?” “No, I definitely caught her!”

Jaune was not comfortable in this situation. In fact, he was scared, scared that his sisters were fighting and felt useless that he couldn’t do anything about it. This is until an idea came across his mind.

“What about Rock, Paper, Scisso-!” “AAAGGGHHH!!!” The high, piercing wail that blocked Jaune’s solution had come as a shock to everyone. They were all frozen in place, the fear and pain that filled that scream had turned them all to stone. And a sudden realization donned upon Jaune, one that only seemed to strengthen the anxiety currently lacing his blood.

“W-w-wait, th-there’s only three of u-us here…” Upon a quick count, they found that they were, indeed, one sibling short. “The scream must have come from her! We have to find her, she’s in trouble!”

“Maybe she just found a big spider! She’s terrified of them!” The oldest of the group stated, a fact which was well known within the Arc household.

“We just have to find her and get her away from wherever she found it!” The younger of the girls offered. This conclusion helped each of them relax, as spiders were the most dangerous of the creatures that they knew to inhabit the forests that surround their home. It brought them comfort, but they weren’t in their woodlands anymore.

They moved quickly towards the origin of their sister’s scream, until they unfortunately found her.

In a small secluded area of the forest, a clearing in the trees where the river widened considerably and was surrounded by large stones that easily dwarf the giant that was their father (as far as they were concerned), where the sun seemed to shine atop the water so bright that you could swear it was fragmented like the moon and resided in the river itself. This was where they found her.

However, the beauty of nature wasn’t what made them stop, nor was it the sight of their sister happily frolicking in the water after overcoming her original fear and relief flooding the trio of loving family members. No, it was the exact opposite to all those beautiful and much more preferable sights (Hell, they’d prefer to have found a spider, really).

What stood in the clearing, over their sister, was a monster.

A monster so dark, it made the moonless night sky seem bright. With markings so red, the blood that splattered its maw seemed pale by comparison. All of this packed onto a fur-skinned nightmare product between man and wolf. And their sister… stuck underneath.

No, stuck wasn’t the right word.

The creature didn’t hold her down, it didn’t need too, the girl below it simply couldn’t move. She was missing large chunks of her little body. They could see her shoe on the other side of the clearing, her foot still occupying it. A few feet from her there was some bloody assortment of meat, maybe something from inside, no-one could tell. Her neck had also seemed to disappear and had replaced itself with bloody chunks of something.

Each child, each one that still had a beating heart, remained completely still. No movement, no thought and no emotion, still enough were to make a statue jealous. The shock they felt was all they could feel, their brains refusing to process the sight before them. The first to break free of the paralysing chains holding his mind was Jaune, still looking into the large, half lidded and dull eyes of his older sister. The eyes that had once been so full of colour and everything right with the world, Jaune had found comfort and happiness in those eyes’ countless times before, being the two youngest of the family had created a close and tight bond between the two. And now, they laid in the red, stained grass, upside-down, staring at him with nothing, endless nothing, a perfect void, drained of any and all life.

Fear and sadness welled within Jaune, faster than the tears that had decided to occupy his eyes could, with his sister’s emotions following in turn.

The negativity had come crashing out of them in waves, comparable to a landslide, only cursing them further. This alerted the creature, its posture bolting upright slouching over the corpse of the young girl turned lunch. It turned at the waist, revealing just how long its arms really were, easily twice Jaune himself, each one holding a different end of the girl’s right arm. What was most terrifying was its canine-shaped head. The lupine resemblance almost uncanny, the bloody maul full of teeth as long as it’s claws and wet with a liquid that Jaune tried his best to forget the source of. The ears atop the skull of the creature pointed toward the sky, looked sharp and swivelled around, until stopping, pointed at the children.

What scared them the most were its eyes, the cold, harsh eyes that were the antithesis of its prey. Where the girl’s eyes had been full of life, joy and hope, the creature’s own orbs reflected hate, despair and death. It’s fitting really, that the eyes of love and hope had been filled with the deepest and most alluring of azure blues and the ones that killed them were as red and terrifying as hell itself would be.

The creature dropped its piece of lunch on top of the rest of its forgotten meal and lowered itself onto all fours, its impossibly long arms stretched forwards and its rear in the sky behind it, as a low yet rumbling growl escaped from between its teeth. Now, instead of pure shock rooting our children to the ground, it was the very fear and anxiety that told the beast they were there. And, in the space it took for Jaune let go of the breath his fear forced him to hold, the creature pounced.

In the few precious seconds, it took for Jaune to turn and push his sisters, the nightmare before then had covered the distance between them and stood right behind Jaune. This registered for Jaune as three large, ragged, diagonal cuts in his tiny back. Falling into the grass of the forest, quickly watching the green around him fill with his own red.

The creature ran after the girls, desperately attempting to flee, knowing its second victim had no chance of moving now. The two remaining girls were screaming and running, terrified of the lupine monstrosity behind them, not knowing that the very fear fuelling their escape them was exactly what made them even more delicious prey.

Jaune watched from his position, chin first in the dirt, as the beast caught up to them and doubled their pace, springing forward and turning to face his sisters, seeing the very same claw that had Jaune glued to the ground tear one of them in half, before she could even stop running. Her pieces staining the grass red in front of her remaining sister. The final sibling came to a stop before the stalking nightmare. Sobbing messily, she looked up from her tattered sister into the eyes of the monster that killed some of the best people in her life and seemingly paralysed her only brother. She began to beg, praying to the brother gods that, by some miracle, some stretch of the universe, that she would survive and make it home to her loving mother, sisters and father.

Her prayers and begs fell upon deaf ears as the beast shot forward, grabbed her temples between the daggers that made up its teeth and separated the top half of her head, sounding off with a sickening crunch mixed with a strangled cry of pain and torment.

And just dropped her body to the ground, discarding her like a toddler drops a toy they’re bored with.

Jaune watched the entire scene in front of him, unable to move or even think, terrified beyond all action or comprehensible thought, not that the he would have been able to move anyway, as the creature made its way closer to him, no longer moving in leaps or flashes, but walking, as its prey was rendered immobile by the large injury in its back. Jaune closed his eyes, tightening them as he braced for the pain he knew was coming, just as it had come for his sisters.

Jaune was so focused on biting back anything he felt and so drowned in his own fear and blood, that he didn’t hear the gut-wrenching scream of agony and desperate sorrow. Nor did he hear the heavy foot falls as something approached him and the beast, racing from elsewhere. What he did hear was the sound of his father’s shield deflecting the bloodstained claws, he heard and watched as his father, blinded by pure animosity and heartache forced the creature of death back and, eventually, decapitate it. In that moment, time had seemed to freeze, Jaune saw the fury and heartbreak on his father’s face, twisted into a cruel grimace, the image burned into his memory, alongside the corpses of his sisters.

Time only began to move again as Jaune’s father let out another cry, louder than all his previous screams, as he began to hack, slash and break any part of the Grimm before him, only stopping when its corpse had fully dissipated, as all Grimm do.

Only then did his father stop, drop his weapons and fall to his knees, weeping at the loss of his four youngest children, screaming and sobbing with his face in the dirt, almost seeming to burrow into it, wanting to find the blood of his children. Jaune watched as his father broke apart, small pieces at a time, tears flowing down his face, almost unending. But, as all things must ends, so too did the tears, sniffles and sobs of the town guard, his face steeled into a grimace of loss and sorrow, the piece of himself being replaced with a resolve, a vow to return his children to their home and never let thing happen again.

The Patriarch of the Arc family stood to survey the damage done to his blood. And here he froze, seeing the unsteady rising and falling of his son’s chest, missing pieces being filled properly again as new tears of joy and relief flood the father’s features. Sprinting to the wounded boy’s side, screaming his name and asking question he already knew the answer to, Jaune’s father dropped to his knees once again, but this time to help his damaged son, searching himself and the land around for any way to comfortably bring his son home. With the frantic search proving to be utterly fruitless, he simply, yet gently, picked Jaune from the ground and placed him on his unarmed shoulder.

Jaune’s father began the trek back to the family home, creating false promises, repeating apologies and crying, for the duration of the trip, moving as fast as possible, without causing the silent boy on his shoulder any more pain that what was already silencing him.

Jaune, however, heard none of these promises, “sorry” ‘s or sobs, only seeing the gleaming, blood-spattered shield, collapsed around the sword at his father’s hip, only able to focus on the warmth his father spread and the thought “That would have been useful” while staring at the blade’s handle, before the pain took his consciousness from him.

Jaune spent the next few days drifting to and from the conscious world.

He knew that he had been taken home, he remembered hearing gasps and cries upon his return, pain from the dressing of his wounds and more crying. Curiously enough, he also heard shouting, which would be normal enough in a house of ten... now seven. But this was different, most shouting normally came from his sisters, arguing about one thing or another or when his parents needed to discipline them, these bouts of shouting, however, came from his parents. They seemed to be arguing over something called “aura…?” Jaune wasn’t sure what if was or even if it was a word, but he did hear his mother scream “I CAN’T LET WHAT HAPPENED TO ME HAPPEN TO THEM, ESPECIALLY HIM!!” To which his father pleaded. “CAN’T YOU SEE IT ALREADY HAS, WE CAN’T LEAVE HIS LIFE IN DANGER JUST BECAUSE YOU FEEL HE SHOULDN’T KNOW ABOUT YOUR PAST OR THR WORLD!!” This is where the screaming stopped, hearing only loud and quiet sobbing and whispering coming from wherever the shouting had. All he really knew was that it scared him.

Jaune also remembered a doctor coming from town once or twice during those days. It was probably more, but he couldn’t stay awake half the time, what with the pain in his back knocking him out every few minutes after he woke.

It wasn’t until a week and a half had passed since the deaths of his family members that Jaune regained consciousness properly. He awoke to the tearstained face of his mother, the tears seeming to have cut long furrows down her face. She almost squealed with joy upon being woken up by her son trying to brush the tears from her face, the pure elation of her son being alive and awake causing more water to leaks from her eyes.

When the rest of Jaune’s remaining family burst into the room, each had similar reactions upon seeing his mother hugging him gently, with him awake this time. Which was then preceded by the inevitable questions, Jaune explaining everything, each detail clear in his mind, when the tears from his own eyes didn’t impede his speech as the emotions finally caught up to him. Often his family sat together for hours at a time, waiting for Jaune to finish crying before he continued.

No harsh accusations followed his tale, nor any blame, simply hugs, tears and promises from his family.

After that day the house flowed back into normalcy, albeit quieter, until three full years had finally passed. The wounds Jaune had received were not lethal nor debilitating, the claws not digging deep enough and missing anything important along his spine, “a small miracle!” The town doctor had claimed.

The town’s people had helped organise and set up, even pay for the funerals. Everyone knew the Arc children and none showed any particular hatred, only the same small loving-malice that followed mischievous children’s pranks and activities. Any and all real hate was directed towards the Grimm that resided in the forest, evident by the furious stares many levelled towards the trees beyond thew village walls.

Eventually, the dull gleam that seemed to cover the eyes of each family member, the same gleam that held the stars and oceans contained within their eyes at bay, disappeared as they could finally move on.

But, never forgetting.

Whenever the children played, they were always supervised, never left alone. Their father had managed a change in occupation and now worked from home as a writer of sorts. Their mother had grown more possessive of her family and Jaune’s elder sisters followed this attitude when it came to him, never letting him be by himself. At first, Jaune was okay with this, even feeling happy and safe from this caged lifestyle due to having seen the reason for its inception.

However, this did not last. Whenever Jaune had asked about the creature, his father only bitterly replied to ask his mother, to which she would say “an evil creature, but, as long as you stay here, you’ll be safe and not have to worry about it”. This never sated Jaune’s mind, but, was the only definition either parent would ever give him. When Jaune would ask to be trained like his father, to protect and kill the “Evil creatures” in the forest, his mother would shoot the idea down in the exact same way, forever denying combat to her remaining children. On this, his parents agreed and Jaune began to lose his feeling of comfort in his protective cage.

Jaune would eventually learn more of his family’s legacy through omitted records of their deeds in the study and from stories his mother told her children and discovers his own drive to become one of the Arc heroes, prompting him to become a Huntsman, despite his great lack of knowledge on the topic (What’s worse is that he doesn’t know just how much he doesn’t know about it).

He finds a way into Beacon and creates some of the best memories he’s ever had, the best friends he’s ever had and even a new family.

And everything happens as we know it will. Friendship. Growth. Happiness. Accomplishment. The Fall. And new beginnings.

--------------------------------

Hiya again!

thank you for reading my first actual piece of RWBY fanfiction. I made this concept up a few years ago, back when I was (possibly) obsessed with why Jaune knew so little of the world around him, despite a lot of it being vital to being a Huntsmen, So i wrote this little number (I don't know why i made it so dark of a story, but eh).

After rediscovering it, I thought I'd fix it up and post it here and thus, here we are indeed.

I know this doesn't answer how he got into Beacon, but that's not the point of the story in the first place. Please leave any notes of criticism, I'd really love to hear what you though about my story

Anyway, Thank you so very much for reading my work.

#jaune arc rwby #jaune arc #rwby #arc #arc family #hurt #death #gore #saphron cotta arc #saphron arc #comfort #fanfic #fanfiction #dark

[pinkhairedlily]

goodbye to the clearest eyes

pair: kim namjoon/park jimin | minjoon, rating: G

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33675553

dropping a minjoon fic here as well (because why not)! :>

Namjoon glances at his phone for the seventeenth time that night, the digital clock blinking back 23:14 at him, and his screen flashing low battery warning since the 20 percent mark. He waits again for ten more minutes, closing his eyes and losing himself in the muted sound of the club on the street across and the passing honks of ubers. A ping stirs him up.

Disappointed but not surprised. He knows he set himself up for this.

“Joon hi. Hope you thought better - like before. I actually got a ride. Lucky huh. So anyway, please don’t mind my earlier texts. See you later.” Ironically, his phone thinks it’s the most opportune time to shut down, zero percent, no more warning. He softly thumps his head on the steering wheel, but his fingers are tightly gripping around it.

“I should stop this.” This is the same sentence he repeats for every conquest Jin conjures up every Friday of the week. He sighs, enraged but tired, and he starts the ignition.

Then his passenger side opens and comes in an angel.

“Excuse me?”

It’s Namjoon’s first expression. Blonde hair, lopsided smile that reaches his eyes, plump and pouty lips, flushed cheeks, and fair skin. He waves to his friends goodbye and reaches for the seatbelt.

He misses it and he chuckles. He tries again and almost gets it. Again, another hearty chuckle.

“You’re hammered,” Namjoon says. “But this is not an uber.”

The blonde man fits the seatbelt in successfully in his third try. He looks up at Namjoon, and he is disarmed by bright hazelnut irises which disappear in a wide smile. “Look I managed to wear my seatbelt.” His fingers, dainty fingers, meet each other to give himself a small, silent clap.

Namjoon’s heart is thumping. What is this is a new modus of a local gang? Using an angel-faced to lure innocents into their deaths? He clears his throat and tries to capture the blonde’s attention. “I would appreciate it if you get out of my car right now.”

Yeah, especially since I just got my license at 30 years old. Because Jin had his car towed.

The blonde is heaving and Namjoon knows what comes next. He opens the windows and gets ready to give him a paper bag stashed in his glove compartment. It’s actually reserved for Jin, waiting for its purpose for several weeks now, but at least a single piece gets to see the light for tonight.

The passenger waves away his offer of a vomit bag. He just lets his head loll on the side, eyes shut, smile still plastered on his cherubic face. Namjoon rakes his raven locks with his hand, and he decides then to fuck it. He’s in the neighborhood, he has an available car. He will do one kind deed today and bring this angel safely to his home.

But yeah fuck me too because my phone’s basically on coma and I’m geographically challenged. No choice then. “Hey you, I’m sorry but I don’t have the maps on. I can’t drive you.”

The blonde tries to sit up straight with his eyes still closed. “Can you first drive around? I don’t want to go home yet.”

This is a red flag, Namjoon knows. Far too many dreadful things have been happening nowadays and everyone is hardly to be trusted even when they have the most beautiful countenance he has ever seen. But he had too many losses this year, too many times he held out chances for someone who won’t return them back, too many hopes for beginnings but he got indefinite endings instead. Yeah, fuck it.

“Can you move away from the window so I can close it?” Namjoon asks.

“Can you leave my side open? I want to feel the cold air against my face,” the man replies. Now that Namjoon’s looking at him intently, he notices he must be in his early 20s, not more than 25 probably.

He stuffs the paper bag on his passenger’s dainty fingers (which thankfully he holds onto because dry cleaning would be a bitch) and drives towards the road he frequents when he gets stood up.

“It’s kinda cold.” His blonde locks are swaying with the wind.

Namjoon chuckles and checks his monitor. “Well it’s the transition between fall and winter. Do you want me to close it now?”

“No, not really. I love the cold. It makes my cheeks redder. It makes me aware of the blood in my body.”

“I like this season too although I’m not a fan of snowing. I’d rather walk than drive a car when it’s winter.” Namjoon steals a glance. “Looks like you really enjoyed tonight. Flushed and rosy cheeks are also good signs of life. Would you believe it’s a criteria males would look for in females they want for marriage and reproduction? Of course, this was back when patriarchy was still 100 percent practiced.”

Namjoon takes a right turn amid the dense canopy of hickory trees and into the tunnel. Now would be the most advantageous time for his passenger to kill him.

“Yes, I enjoyed tonight,” the blonde remarks. His hazelnut eyes are now open and trained on the road. “My friends and colleagues organized a farewell party.”

“Changing jobs?” Namjoon breathes slowly, waiting for the blonde to pull out a gun or knife.

“Nope, not really. I’m going away.”

Nothing comes for Namjoon’s life, and he feels the bubble of laughter in his throat. “Another city or abroad?”

His hazelnut eyes roll to the ceiling, and he ponders for a whole minute. “Yeah, abroad. That’s what I told them.”

The tunnel is empty, but Namjoon keeps a safe driving speed on the rightmost lane. Occasionally, a sports car would speed past them, the tires screeching with the echoes. He wonders if he should keep up the conversation, but gauging the other person’s responses, it seems like they don’t mind. “Oh that must be fun. I also went abroad after university, straight to Belgium. It felt freeing that time, but I realized just recently that I was probably running away.”

There he goes again, spilling his guts to a stranger at midnight in the middle of a tunnel. Namjoon’s mind now wonders if this blonde isn’t afraid of him. He’s bigger than this passenger, more muscular, and definitely taller. He can easily subdue him and drop him in the ocean.

“It’s somewhere I have to go to,” he replies. “I’ve never been to Belgium. Chocolates must be good there.”

“The roads are very bike friendly, if you’re curious.” Namjoon remembers the awe when he first set foot in Brussels. No annoying car honks, no bulky vehicles on the streets. Just people biking, in tune with nature, giving way to each other, the tiny bells ringing.

“Ah I also never learned how to bike. How disappointing.”

“It’s a nice skill to have, keeps you active, and obviously it decreases your carbon footprint.”

His passenger laughs like it’s a trill of a nightingale. “You have such a weird thought process!”

Namjoon’s voice wavers, part embarrassed, part socially anxious. He’s never good in dealing with extroverts. “Is it bad?”

The blonde shakes his head. “I’m saying it’s unique. Anyway, I won’t worry much about my carbon footprint.”

Namjoon clucks his tongue against his mouth. “You must be a mindful consumer.”

“Hmm, I’m not really sure. I guess I am?” His little pinky finger rests on the side of his lip. “But it gives me comfort that I’m alleviating Mother Earth’s illness somehow.”

They leave the tunnel and the smell of salt air arrests both of their senses. Namjoon opens the window on his side as well and breathes in the ocean. He normally frequents this area during sunsets, a few minutes when twilight sets in before it finally transitions to the night sky. His existence hovers in between those changes, all beautiful and all passing. It dawns on him that he took a plunge when he decided to drive here at this time. “Do you mind some music?”

“No, go ahead!”

Namjoon opens his radio, and the first notes of 400 Lux drifts from the speakers. The blonde lets an arm out on touches the air on the skin of his fingers. Namjoon notices this and mirrors him. The ocean greets them after a few seconds, quiet in its vastness despite the rhythmic buoy of the waves and the sound they make when they crash against the sandy shore.

“I’d like to visit many more places,” his companion continues. “Like Jeju Island. My grandmother plants the sweetest tangerines, and my ex-boyfriend would often come help out during harvest season. But I broke up with him just recently and cut off all ties.”

“Sorry about the ex-boyfriend,” Namjoon interjects. “He must be missing the tangerines a lot.”

“Let’s hope that’s the only thing he’ll be missing. By the time he’d miss me, he must have moved on already.”

The road comes a bit closer to the waters, and the wind drifts over some of the sea spray to them as the waves break against the side of the cliffs. “And here you are, sounding like you already miss him.”

“I won’t deny it.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “I found that it’s healthy to acknowledge your feelings than keep them all repressed so I’m honoring our bond by honoring the grief.”

“Sounds like good advice.” The guilt creeps up on Namjoon, but he ignores this for a moment. Maybe he can take this bit, store it, and use it in the future. It’s good advice anyway.

“I also want to visit Disneyland. I’ve never been to one. Couldn’t afford it. But I hate roller coasters and pirate ships, anything that has to do with heights. Although, if given the chance, I would try all of them at once even if I vomit after.”

“The lines are freakishly long.”

“How much do you think would it cost if I rent the whole place for a day?”

Namjoon laughs. “Pretty sure it would have at least six zeroes.”

“Oh I thought it would have seven.” They both break into guffaws. After a few seconds, the blonde continues his musing. “I would also love to visit my parents and see them again every day.”

“Can’t you do it now?”

The man stretched his arms in front of him and wiggles in his chair. “I’ll actually drop by tomorrow, spend some time before I truly go.”

Namjoon slowly turns on a blind curve, weighing the last sentence in his mind. “I moved out when I was 18 into the university dorms, and then I got my own apartment after graduation. Most of us go through that linear phase, don’t you think – growing out of our childhood homes and leaving the ‘youth’ behind.”

“You don’t even look like 30 yet.”

“I’m flattered. And you don’t look like you’re over 20s.”

“I get that a lot.” The blonde chuckles, not bothering to hide another set of blush on his cheeks. Under the dim light of the moon, Namjoon briefly notices the redness in his ears.

“But wouldn’t it be nice to come back to it, to that safe bubble when life becomes too overwhelming?” Somehow, Namjoon also feels a hot flush on his skin despite the icy air that has set in their atmosphere.

“We both know there’s no bubble anymore when we go back.”

“I guess it will take you a long time to come back.”

The passenger nods, his hazelnut eyes leaving the road to focus on the ocean. “A very, very, very long time. I may not see them again after I go.”

He must be moving for good, Namjoon thinks. Or he’s cutting off ties. Like I did so many years ago.

“Hey, can we stop over for water? I’m thirsty.”

Namjoon spots the 24/7 convenience store on the side of the road. He remembers this is a junction close to a fishing port hence the all-around operations. He parks on the empty lot and waits for the blonde to finish buying his needs. He comes back with four bottles of water and two bowls of already cooked instant ramen. “Would you like to eat by the shore?”

Sure why not in the middle of almost-winter? Namjoon follows him nonetheless, even sitting on the damp sand cross legged with ramen in between his hands. They slurp the noodles in silence punctuated by the crashing waves and occasional noise of the seagulls and the horn of incoming fishing fleets. They do not talk, too engrossed with the hot food and spicy broth.

Finally finished, they combine their garbage in what was supposed to be the passenger’s vomit bag. Namjoon initially walks to the direction of his car, but the passenger decides to walk along the shore for the minute, barefoot, his black leather mules secured in his other hand.

“Would you look at that? It’s finally used,” Namjoon jokingly remarks about the vomit bag.

The blonde chuckles at his lame attempt to lighten the mood. Namjoon finally notices the muted loss in his startlingly beautiful hazelnut eyes, and the layers of sadness covered up by his songbird laughter, but he knows it’s not his place to ask.

“Have you ever thought about death?” The way he asked it was so blunt, so deadpan, so out of the blue, and so far removed from his lively persona that Namjoon interacted with in the vehicle.

It catches him off guard, of course. He never really delved into it, not when he was too busy running away from his feelings for his college best friend, not when he came back and tried to rekindle that friendship and connection again, not when he was too busy wondering if it was already too late.

He was too busy facing the consequences of his life. “In passing, maybe.”

The blonde walks further into the water, the waves reaching to his knees. “What do you think happens after?”

“I personally don’t believe in afterlife or in God or in heaven.” Namjoon scratches the back of his neck, aware that his being agnostic would sometimes earn an agitated reaction from people. “It just ends. You become food for the detritus, a fertilizer for the plants.”

“Lessening the carbon footprint?” the blonde brings it up again, and this earns a hearty chuckle from Namjoon.

“We could put it like that. You contribute to nutrient cycling.”

“That’s a nice way of describing rotten flesh being eaten by worms.” He turns towards the expanse of the ocean with his eyes closed and that constant smile that seems to hold him together throughout this night. “I….visualize dying as a new birth, a chance of being someone again, a reincarnation. Even if I live as a butterfly with gray wings, a disowned black cat because of superstition, a whale with an alien frequency, a deer hunted in the open season, I’ll welcome it because it gives me another day, another life. It gives me another chance to feel the cold air on my face, the hot flush on my nose and ears, the water between my toes. Another chance to meet people, another chance to fall in love and break and fall all over again, another chance to live.”

The whole monologue untethers Namjoon. It is as if the sand underneath him started shifting.

The blonde turns his attention on the sky, stars invisible behind the fluffy clouds which signal incoming rain. As he silently watches them move across the space, Namjoon follows the change in his expression, the surrender of the smile, and the explosion of dullness in his irises.

“I have a tumor in my brain. Cancer has progressed too far and too deep to consider chemotherapy. Doctor gave me three months at most.”

Namjoon feels like he needs the vomit bag more. He’s tongue tied and numb all over. He feels cold all over, but he doesn’t know if he should blame the season. All the sounds are drowned by a ringing in his head, and he barely hears the blonde come up to him and tap his shoulder with his smile back again.

“I want to go home now. Thank you for driving me tonight.”

---

Now in the safe enclave of his apartment with a fully charged phone, Namjoon composes a long message intended for Jin, his apologies running all the way back since college. An apology for not responding to his confession, an apology for running away, an apology for coming back and expecting everything is the same.

And an ultimatum of a definite conclusion – whether he can let him in or cut him off from his life – because he has spent a long time living in between.

The breakdown comes after he hits send, choking sobs hitched in his throat. A mourning for a blonde stranger.

---

“Have a taste of this.” A grandmother in her 90s offers a peeled tangerine to Namjoon.

He bites through the piece of fruit and the sweetness hits him in full. He relishes the burst of flavor in his mouth with his eyes closed albeit it’s actually a ruse to keep the flood of tears at bay. You were right, they’re the sweetest tangerines. “I think I’ll order a hundred kilos.”

“That’s too much, my son.” The old woman laughs and playfully slaps him on the arm. “So how did you find your orchard tour a while ago?”

“I can’t help but hear a songbird in the area. Must be coming from the nearby forest.”

“Ah, it started singing last year. Since then, we’ve always had a year-round harvest. He must be my lucky charm.”

#bts fic #bts fanfic #minjoon #minimoni #namjoon x jimin

[prairiesongserial]

14.6

Friday hopped down from the truck bed amid the frenzy of a circus eager to make camp. She was used to the nightly routine by now. After a day of driving, crammed up against crates and each other, the circus was always noisy and jubilant when it came time to camp. Usually getting set up for the night was a delicate balance of gathering wood for the campfires, goofing off, getting out plates and cups for everyone, and taking generous breaks for feats of acrobatics. No one was walking on their hands tonight, though. Everyone still had the same pent up energy, but it buzzed around Friday on whispers. Enis and Cody had almost died.

Pebbles crunched under Friday’s boots as she walked a slow circuit around the place Johannes had chosen for their camp. It was going to be a long summer day; even though Friday was starving for dinner, there was plenty of sun reflecting off the surface of the lake. Friday walked right up to the water. It was surrounded on all sides by nubby mountains and thick woods. Deer paths sprouted from the rocky beach and disappeared into the surrounding trees. Experience or paranoia told Friday they might not all have been made by deer.

Friday let her eyes hover over the beautiful green water. There was a breeze here. She could almost relax.

Cold glass brushed her knuckles, and Friday jumped. She had heard footsteps on the rocks, but hadn’t assumed they’d been coming for her. Johannes was standing next to her, trying to pass her a beer. Friday looked around. Everyone else was still setting up.

“Maybe later,” Friday muttered, giving Johannes a half-hearted smile that quickly faded.

“Oh, didn’t you hear?” Johannes said, still holding the beer out to her. “People who had family members fall off a cliff today get to drink heavily while everyone else sets up.”

Friday gritted her teeth and stared at the lake. She supposed Cody was family; ‘friend’ didn’t seem to cut it, anymore. She felt a jittery energy similar to stage fright if she let her mind linger on what had happened. She gestured for the bottle without looking at Johannes.

“Why that trailer?” she asked as her hand closed around the glass.

“Good question,” Johannes said under his breath. Friday heard his footsteps retreat over the pebbles.

Camp built up around Friday like civilizations built up around mountains, lakes, and other immovable things. The afternoon light was turning gold. Campfires sprang from the earth. More people had beers or flasks in hand, and the scents of tobacco and marijuana mixed with the woodsmoke. The tension was leaving the air, and the lakeside grew louder, chasing the last vestiges of anxiety away. Some people were going swimming. By one of the campfires, a girl Friday knew from the burlesque tent had brought out an instrument that looked like a cross between a guitar and a violin; Friday had seen it before, and had been meaning to ask Ezra what it was called.

Friday wandered away from the lake edge. Her nails clicked against the glass of her beer bottle; she took a sip just to have something to do. She felt the urge to account for her accident-prone family. Except that wasn’t the word. Cody wasn’t accident-prone; he was a magnet for intentional violence. Every bounty hunter in the States wanted him. Hemisphere wanted him. And they all wanted Friday, Val, and John no less so, just from being in Cody’s periphery long enough. How long until wanted posters went up for the Madsen and Graves brothers, too?

Friday spotted Val for the first time that day, and half the weight sloughed off her shoulders. She hadn’t even been consciously worried about him, but seeing for herself that he hadn’t been yanked into the woods by Born Again assassins was a load off her mind. She really needed to finish that beer.

Val was working on a pile of dead branches, breaking them up into smaller pieces. He stepped on the bottom half while he pulled the top half in the opposite direction, using his whole body to splinter each branch apart. He was sweaty and focused. Friday could envision with perfect clarity Johannes’s failed attempt to get him to relax with a beer. Friday had suffered ten years of those conversations; Johannes hadn’t had a prayer.

Friday’s attention was yanked away from Val by the sound of Enis’s raised voice. She hadn’t seen him at first, but did now, as he stood up abruptly from behind the nearest truck.

“It doesn’t make sense,” he snapped. Friday heard something heavy strike the ground. She caught a glimpse of Enis’s flushed, upset face and turned herself away so it at least wouldn’t look like she was eavesdropping.

“Okay, it doesn’t make sense,” repeated a much calmer voice - Ezra’s, Friday thought. She kept her eyes focused on Val as he struggled to split a thicker branch. “We’re not going to be able to figure out what happened, with the trailer gone. Let’s leave it for now, okay? Johannes and I agreed that now that you’re old enough to fall off a mountain, you’re old enough for a beer.”

“Hilarious!” Enis snapped back. “You really don’t understand why this is important? All the rest of the hitches look fine, okay, but maybe they’re not, and with the trailer gone, I’ll never know what I did to fuck up the other one, so that means I might do it again.”

“You didn’t fuck up - ” Ezra began.

“You don’t know that!” Enis yelled. “Will you just - just stop babying me.”

Friday decided it was past time to sneak away. She wanted to talk to Val, not that she really had anything to say, but she also didn’t want to walk right past the fight she was listening to. She’d circle back.

Cody was sitting next to the mystery-instrument player by the fire. He looked okay. He had his guitar out, and he was cracking up the half-dozen other people around the fire as he tried to accompany left-handed.

“I’ll get it, I’ll get it,” he said, laughing.

Suddenly Val was right next to her, and Friday got the fluttery feeling of having been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to be doing. Val kept walking past her, but the feeling didn’t go away. He deposited a pile of the branches he’d split by the fire. He turned around to walk back.

“Um, hey,” Friday said, stepping into his path.

“Hey,” said Val. He was out of breath, and much sweatier up close.

“We’ve been in separate trucks the last couple days,” Friday said. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Val gave her a curious look. Friday realized abruptly that he looked different. There was way less tension in his posture. He’d sweat through his white shirt, but rather than hunch over or hold his arms just so to block the view of the bandages underneath, quirks of his that had never registered as unusual, Val didn’t seem to care. He was fighting a curl that had fallen into his eyes. He even looked at home in that horrible haircut Johannes had given him. Friday tried to recover her train of thought.

“Do you want to talk?” she said. “Catch up, maybe figure out what the hell happened this week?”

“Um, yeah,” Val said, still catching his breath.

Friday led Val further from the fire, slipping outside the circle of trucks and trailers to where the evening was quieter.

“Enis seems upset,” she said, when Val didn’t start the conversation.

“I heard,” he replied.

“Do you think it’s weird?” Friday said abruptly. “That the trailer just...poof! Down the mountain. Just like that.”

Val looked at her funny.

“It is weird!” she continued. “Enis knows what he’s talking about, and he thinks it’s weird. And it’s really weird because no one ever rides in the storage trailers. Except today, Cody does, and suddenly today’s the day that a trailer - the one he’s in - goes crashing to the bottom of a ravine?”

When Val took too long to respond, Friday held out her arms in an abrupt there-you-have-it gesture, sloshing beer over her fingers. Val crossed his arms over his chest.

“So that’s what this is about. Now you think Johannes is trying to murder us,” Val said quietly. “Enis was in the trailer, too. Pretty cold.”

Friday blinked at him.

“I’m sorry, are we in a fight?” she asked, the pitch of her voice rising.

Val raised his eyebrows. “We’ve been fighting since Everglades City.”

“Things have been weird since Everglades City, but…”

“Right, because you freaked out on me about going to Kill Devil Hills, then you freaked out on Johannes when we came back, and we haven’t talked since.”

That wasn’t right. They’d talked. Friday furrowed her brow. They hadn’t talked about anything important, though. They hadn’t dealt with anything.

“I earned that freakout. You got hurt,” Friday said, hating the petulant tone of her voice but too annoyed now to stop. “And you know what, you earned Everglades City. I did drag you around all day for nothing. It sucked. Sorry.” Even saying the name of the city had the stench of salt water in her nose again, had her remembering vomiting alone in a rowboat in the dark. Friday took a big sip of beer, grimacing at the carbonation.

“I don’t want to do Everglades City again,” Val said. “I don’t want another made-up mystery. I know this is just because you hate Johannes and want a reason to go through his stuff. And you won’t trust me!” Val huffed. “I keep telling you he’s a good guy under the persona, and you won’t… He’s not Macomber.”

No, he’s Hezekiah, Friday thought, biting back the reply just in time. Johannes was exactly what Friday pictured when she imagined the smarmy salesman who had road tripped with an eighteen year old Val from New Orleans to Vegas, a man Friday hadn’t even known about until Oklahoma, because it had taken Val ten years before he could talk about him. Val was the one who was going to get hurt again, not Friday. And he was completely blind to it. Did he even know he liked Johannes that way? Friday couldn’t get into this.

“Well, good talk,” she snapped. “Good progress. Let’s pick up this fight again next time something horrible happens. Or maybe you’ll get lucky and I’ll be the one to fall off a mountain, and no one will try to make a made-up mystery out of it.” She paused, out of breath, already regretting whatever the hell had just spilled out of her mouth. “I’ll be at the campfire.”

Friday stormed away. She turned the corner around the first truck she came to and slammed her beer down on a crate that had been half-unloaded, then started angrily stripping down to her underwear. There’d be time for the campfire. She was going to jump in the lake and scream underwater as loud as she could.

14.5 || 14.7

#story

[xxpadfootxx]

🐾Bite Me! (Part 1/3)🐾

Summary: She never wanted to say those words. She never meant them. But she knew that if she didn’t say them that he would never give up. He needed to believe that she didn’t love him anymore, even if it crushed him so that he wouldn’t try to pursue her anymore.

~~~

Izuku stood in shock, tears streaming down his face as he stared at his girlfriend of four years. He couldn’t believe it, wouldn’t believe it. His heart had gone numb and his brain felt fuzzy and broken. Everything was a swirling torrent of pain and sorrow. Her face was tear-streaked too but he had no idea why. If she was crying because she didn’t want this to happen then why was she doing this to him?

“‘Chako, please!” Izuku cried. “What can I do, I’ll do anything!”

“I’m sorry, Izuku, there is nothing you can do,” Ochako said, her voice breaking. “I told you, this isn’t you, it’s me. I have so many problems I don’t want you to have to deal with. You need to find someone who won’t hold you down, someone you won’t be ridiculed for being with.”

“What are you talking about!?” Izuku nearly shouted, his voice rising a few octaves. “Why would ANYONE ridicule me for being with you? You are so amazing, such a fantastic, well-loved hero, there is no reason for anyone to judge us for being together!”

“It’s not like that, Izuku, you don’t understand-”

“Then it explain it to me! I’ll listen to anything you have to say, just please don’t leave me!” His voice broke and Ochako had to bite her knuckles to keep from bursting.

Ochako wanted nothing more than apologize and rush to his side, to hold him close and kiss his face until she had covered every inch of his skin. She loved him so much her heart ached, but that was why she had to let him go. He could never be with her, not with her condition.

Ochako planned to never tell anyone about her secret. Her parents obviously knew but besides them and a few kids from her old school, nobody else knew. When she was first attacked as a little girl, a large wolf biting her when she accidentally got lost in the woods, the other kids at her school heard the news and spread it everywhere. She was an outcast. People avoided her, both adults and children, and everyone was terrified of her. Even when she told people about her medicine, pills that negated her werewolf instincts, and allowed her to maintain her memory even in her wolf form, nobody wanted to be anywhere near her. She was isolated, bullied, her father even had the risk of losing his job at one point because his boss found out about her condition. When she moved across town to attend U.A., she had never been exposed to the level of kindness the other students showed her. Nobody actively avoided her, she made friends, people spoke and laughed with her rather than about her. She felt happy for the first time in a long time.

The entire time she was attending U.A. she was able to keep her secret hidden. The only two who knew about her condition was Aizawa and Principle Nedzu, both of whom never said a word, and only knew because the city required she alert them when applying for the school. She was finally treated like normal, never having to worry about being called a murderer or a cannibal. She was never harassed or beat up like she was at her old school when some of the other teenagers wanted to see if they could get a ‘rise’ out of her to get her in trouble. She never had to worry about hiding her strength or being forced to act submissive when she was at U.A., everyone reaching for the same goal without a clue that there was a wolf in sheep’s clothing hiding amongst them. Ochako wanted to maintain that sense of security and love and trust, so she kept quiet.

In the beginning, Ochako had even considered turning Izuku down when he confessed to her in their third year at U.A. She had been shocked but overjoyed at the sight of him holding out a small bouquet of roses for her, but she didn’t know what to feel or what to think. He was confessing to the human version of her, he didn’t know anything about her hidden identity, what would he say when he found out? She didn’t want to see the look of disgust or horror on his face when he found out. In the end, even though she spent days arguing with herself on the matter, Izuku’s persistence won out and she accepted his confession.

Even after they began dating, Ochako wasn’t really planning on telling Izuku. She knew it was bad to lie to him, she hated it every time she would hear his dejected sigh when she told him they couldn’t hang out, but she didn’t want him to see who she really was and she knew she could never live with herself if she lost control and hurt him. As time went on, she considered breaking it off, giving some excuse that it was her fault and leaving him so he could find someone normal to be with, someone who could give him all that he wanted and make him happy. She decided that was the best course of action but kept putting it off, hating herself for being so selfish but unable to break away. Izuku was always there for her, supporting her, loving her, making her feel like the most important person in the world. She made some amazing friends at U.A., but she had never felt this loved before and she was greedy for it.

Even though it made her heart wail for him, even though it made her almost physically sick to her stomach, she knew it was time. She knew she couldn’t keep lying to him and it wasn’t fair to make him stay with her when she wouldn’t be able to offer him what he deserves. He was so handsome and kind and a very popular hero, he’d easily be able to find another woman, a normal woman without a murderous physical condition, to spend the rest of his life with. She hated it, hated the idea of some other woman claiming her man, but it was for the best.

It broke her to say the words. She had texted him earlier that day, asking him to come over to her house, knowing that if she called him she would break over the phone. He had arrived soon after, the single lily he was carrying in his hands for her not helping her shattering heart. Seeing his face fall and the tears appear made her want to jump off a cliff. She was the cause of those tears, that look of despair and utter shock on his face. She hated herself for it, but it was all for him. It was in his best interest that he leave her and never look back.

“I can’t explain it to you, Izuku, I don’t want to put that burden on you, please just go,” Ochako said, turning away from him, unable to bear looking at his face anymore.

“Don’t you think I deserve an explanation?” Izuku cried. “Please, please, Ochako! What can I do to fix this? What did I do wrong? Come on, we can get through this together, just like we always have!”

“No, Izuku, we can’t.”

“What’s wrong, ‘Chako? Please! I will do anything to save this!”

Ochako grit her teeth.

“I’ve fallen out of love with you.”

“What…?” Izuku asked softly.

His breathless question made Ochako want to vomit. She hugged herself, her fingers digging into her skin so tightly she felt her nails draw blood, but she didn’t care.

“You heard me,” Ochako said, forcing her voice to remain firm. “Please, leave.”

She never wanted to say those words. She never meant them. But she knew that if she didn’t say them that he would never give up. He needed to believe that she didn’t love him anymore, even if it crushed him so that he wouldn’t try to pursue her anymore. She loved that about him even if she hated it. He loved to cuddle and be around her but he always minded her personal space. If she said she didn’t love him and didn’t want to see him, he would stay away.

Just as she expected, she heard him sniffle one last time, her back tingling where she knew he was staring at her, before he turned around and grabbed his jacket and car keys, shutting the door gently as he made his way out without another word. As soon as the door shut and she heard his footsteps shuffle away, Ochako broke. She collapsed on her bed, not caring that her neighbors could probably hear her as her loud sobs bounced off the walls, her body curling into a pitiful ball on the bed as she cried out for the world to hear. She knew it was too good to be true, and it was all her fault.

__________________

Izuku was a ghost of himself. He barely ate, he never slept, and he rarely left the house. It was the first time in his entire career that he didn’t show up for work, something that prompted Shouto Todoroki, and Tenya Iida, two of his coworkers, to go check on him that night after work. Izuku ignored the persistent knocking, wanting nothing more than to lay in bed for the rest of his life.

“Midoriya? Come on, let us in!”

“We know you’re in there.”

No response.

“If you don’t open the door, we will burst our way through,” Iida said sternly, something that normally would’ve made Izuku gawk in surprise. Iida never broke the rules as much as he could, the idea of damaging someone’s personal property would normally make the young pro-hero cringe in horror. But Izuku felt nothing as he stared at the wall, all of his emotions taken from him when Ochako said those fateful words.

“I’ve fallen out of love with you.”

A loud bang made Izuku glance towards the door without getting up, his body and mind too tired to actually care about what was going on.

“Midoriya!” Iida cried, rushing to his friend’s side. “Are you hurt? Are you sick?” Iida raised his hand to Izuku’s head and checked his temperature.

“No, he’s not sick,” Todoroki said, moving to kneel in front of Izuku. “I’ve seen that look before, just never with him, he’s heartbroken.”

Iida stopped and glanced at Todoroki before following his line of sight, noting the dead look in Izuku’s eyes and the dark circles on his face.

“Midoriya…? What happened?”

Izuku contemplated answering. He really just wanted to sleep, to forget about this whole nightmare and wake up with Ochako in his arms, but he knew he couldn’t do that. She would never share her love or her body with him again.

Sitting up with a groan, Izuku let his legs hang over the edge of the bed and clasped his hands in his lap, his head hanging down so that his hair covered his eyes.

“O-Ocha-” Izuku stuttered, unable to even say her name without breaking. Clearing his throat, Izuku glanced at his friends, their faces scrunched with worry. “M-My girlfriend b-broke up with m-me,” Izuku mumbled.

The words were slurred together and mixed with fresh tears that started to slide down his face but his friends heard him loud and clear. Todoroki and Iida looked at each other in shock. There was no way, Ochako loved Izuku, more than anything, they both knew that. What the hell happened to them?

“What do you mean!?” Iida asked.

“What did she say?” Todoroki cut in.

Izuku swallowed thickly, his throat closing slightly.

“She said she fell out of love with me.”

Bullshit. Iida and Todoroki both knew it. Something else was going on here. They had no idea what it was but they were going to figure it out.

“I’m such an idiot,” Izuku said softly, catching the attention of both of his friends again. “How could I have read our relationship so wrong? I know she said it was her fault and not mine, but maybe I was doing something wrong and she just didn’t want to tell me? Maybe I wasn’t giving her enough affection? I am really busy, we both are, maybe she wanted more time with me and I didn’t notice? Or maybe I was spending too much time with her and she needed more space? Maybe she found another guy? I’m definitely not perfect so maybe she found someone who could take better care of her?” Izuku rambled, not even realizing his friends were listening to him.

Iida placed his hand on Izuku’s shoulder, his eyes filled with alarm as he stared at his friend. He had seen Izuku when he was sad before, there were several missions where they had worked together and they couldn’t save someone, or a villain got away and Izuku felt useless. But he had never seen a look like this on Izuku’s face. Even when he was sad, Izuku at least always had a small spark in his eyes, something that told his friends and everyone else around him that he was going to keep trying, keep working harder to make up for his mistakes. That spark was gone from his eyes now, nothing but a dull, glazed look peering back at Iida and Todoroki. The two friends glanced at each other again, their gazes full of concern.

“I’m going to go call Momo really quick,” Todoroki said suddenly, standing up and pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Iida, you stay here with Midoriya, alright?” The icy hot hero whispered in Iida’s ear. Iida nodded and turned his attention back to his hurting friend. Todoroki gave a curt nod before leaving the room, dialing his wife.

“Hey, we’re going to figure this out, alright? Everything is going to be fine,” Iida said, unsure of how to comfort Izuku but fearing the dead look in his friend’s eyes. He hated that look, the look that spelled out grief and utmost sadness. Izuku had given up for the first time in his life. Izuku choked up again, more tears rolling down his face.

“I’m sorry, Iida, thank you for coming to check on me, I just… I just l-love her so much,” Izuku said softly, more tears washing down his cheeks.

“Don’t apologize, Izuku,” Iida said, reverting to Izuku’s first name to try to seem more approachable. “We are always here for you, remember that. There has to be something else going on here, she loves you too.”

“Loved,” Izuku corrected quietly. It broke Iida’s heart.

“Now don’t talk that way! She still loves you, something is just going on right now, we have no idea what it is but we are going to figure it out together, okay? Don’t give up just yet, Izuku, you love her like you said, don’t you?”

“I don’t just love her…” Izuku muttered softly.

“What? What do you mean?”

Izuku glanced up at Iida, something unreadable flashing slightly behind his eyes. Holding his gaze for a second, Izuku debated on showing him or not. Giving in for the second time during their visit, Izuku stood up and shuffled over to the dresser. Opening the top drawer and shuffling through the clothes inside, he eventually found what he was looking for. Making his way back over to the bed, Izuku sat down on the edge and opened his palm. Iida sucked in a breath when he saw the little, velvety black box in Izuku’s hand.

“No way…”

“Yeah,” Izuku chuckled bitterly.

“Did you already ask or were you going to-?”

“I was going to next week on our anniversary, at the little cafe where we had our first date.”

“So she didn’t know…?”

“No. I guess it’s a damn good thing she didn’t,” Izuku said. Iida felt his own heart breaking as Izuku opened the box and examined the beautiful ring inside. It was simple but stunning, the metal twisting to form an infinite sign with small gemstones lining the symbol all the way around.

Izuku had had it custom made. He wanted it in the shape of an infinite symbol to represent not only their time together in matrimony, but also to symbolize her quirk and how far along they both had come since that time. It made him remember the time when she sent the baseball during their throwing exam at U.A. all the way into infinite, shocking their class and showing only an inkling of the strength and power she possessed with her quirk and hero skills.

Izuku ran his finger along the ring, letting the cool metal bite into the pads of his thumbs. He knew he should get rid of it, but he couldn’t bring himself to throw it out. Every time he tried it always ended up with him placing the box gently back in his sock drawer. He also knew he had no reason to hide it anymore, she was never going to come to his house ever again, but he couldn’t bear to look at it for too long before he broke down again. Feeling the familiar feeling of more tears and bile rising in his throat, Izuku quickly snapped the lid shut and stuffed it in his pocket, lacking the energy to get up to put it back in the drawer. That was when Todoroki came back.

“Alright, I just spoke with Momo,” Todoroki said.

“What did you two talk about?” Iida asked.

“I told her to go to Uraraka’s place,” Todoroki said. Izuku’s head snapped up.

“Why?” Izuku asked, his voice coming out as a croak.

“Because she needs someone to check on her as well. Momo said she noticed her gone from work today as well.”

Izuku was so confused. She broke up with him. If she wasn’t going to work that meant that she was either sick or just as depressed as he was. He settled on the former, she must be sick, there was no way she was just as distraught as he was, guilty maybe, but she had broken it off, she had made it very clear what she wanted from him. Izuku didn’t respond to Todoroki, merely looking off into space. Iida and Todoroki locked eyes again. This was way worse than they thought.

“You know what?” Iida suddenly said, standing up and grabbing Izuku’s forearm. “We are going to go see her, and you’re coming with us.”

“What!? No! She said she wanted me to leave her alone, I don’t want to impose on her life or cling to her. She doesn’t need me whining after her like a lovesick puppy. She made it clear what she wants, so I’m going to leave her be.”

“Well, what she “wants” is bullshit,” Iida said. “I have known both of you since high school and I can see that both of you are hurting. I have seen you two work together for ages and you guys are an amazing team. On top of that, this is not like Uraraka at all, she would never just abandon you. She’s always been tactful and even though she isn’t afraid to be confrontational or direct, she is never purposely hurtful, not to those she cares about anyway. You don’t even have to go in or see her, you just have to ride in the car with us.”

“What good will that do?” Izuku grumbled.

“Just trust me, Izuku. She loves you, and we are going to figure out exactly what is going on. Maybe she is being threatened? And she dumped you to keep you safe?”

“Don’t give me false hope, Iida. I appreciate what you are trying to do but this is not the time. She told me bold-faced that she wants nothing more to do with me. As much as I still love her, and as much as I am hurt and confused and hate all of this, it is her life and if she doesn’t want me in it then that is her right.”

“As much as I think you are very honorable, Midoriya, and as much as I respect you for your outlook on all of this, you don’t have a choice,” Todoroki said, grabbing Izuku’s other arm and helping Iida hoist Izuku up. The power hero groaned but had no real time to think or object as his two friends dragged him out to their cars.

_____________________

Todoroki, Iida, and Izuku were more than halfway to Ochako’s house when Todoroki’s phone rang. Seeing it was his wife, Todoroki reached out and answered, putting it on speakerphone so everyone else could listen too.

“Hey honey, how is Och-”

“SHOUTO YOU NEED TO COME RIGHT NOW!!!” Momo screamed. All three men jolted as her loud voice filled the car but Todoroki’s face turned white as a sheet when he heard his wife practically sobbing into the phone.

“Momo, what is it, babe!? Is everything alright? Are you hurt?” Todoroki asked, trying to keep himself calm.

“I’M FINE BUT OCHAKO- THERE IS BLOOD EVERYWHERE AND TORN CLOTHES AND CLAW MARKS ON THE WALLS, I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO!!!”

Iida suddenly slammed his foot on the gas pedal, the horror on his face reflecting the mood of the whole car. Izuku knew he should push Ochako from his mind but Momo’s panicked screaming made him completely forget about their breakup, his heart racing as he prayed over and over again in his mind for her to be okay.

Iida nearly ran over the sidewalk when he pulled up to her house, all three of them launching out of the car and sprinting up the stairs to Ochako’s quaint little home. Todoroki burst through the door with his shoulder and the three men flew up the stairs to where they could hear Momo sobbing from Ochako’s bedroom.

“Momo!!! What-!?” They stopped dead.

Just as Momo had screamed on the phone, the room was in shambles. The walls were torn through with long, vicious claw marks, the curtains had been ripped from the wall and the window glass had been shattered. Torn clothes littered the floor, blood splatters caking both them and the floor, some of it even splattered on the wall.

Todoroki immediately rushed to Momo, encasing his trembling wife in his own shaky embrace, gently hushing her and stroking her hair, his eyes never leaving the carnage on the floor. Iida stood wide-eyed in the doorway, unable to make himself move, his breathing becoming shallow the more he took in the destroyed bedroom. Izuku stood with his jaw dropped before collapsing to his knees, his hands reaching down to shakily grasp the shreds of cloth that had once made up a light pink t-shirt of Ochako’s. Izuku’s whole body began to shake as he brought the bloodied pieces of cloth closer to his face, hoping that maybe it would all turn out to be a dream if he just looked a little closer, a horrible gruesome nightmare, and he’d be able to wake up and anchor Ochako against him like he always did when he was scared.

But that didn’t happen. The blood was still there, the claw marks mocking him from where they had been scratched into the wall, some of the scratches so deep Izuku could see bits of the wall framing, almost as if the same spot on the wall had been raked over multiple times. Gently bringing the cloth up to his chest and holding it over his heart, Izuku felt something snap. Maybe it was his dignity? His sense of heroism? His sanity? He really didn’t know. All he knew was that his feelings of despair were suddenly overwhelmed as the reality of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks. His beautiful best friend and the love of his life was dead. He felt nothing but a raging cold fury build up inside him, something he had never felt before, even when facing the worst villains. Whoever had done this, had taken something personal from him, something so precious from his life, and he would make them pay in the most violent ways he could think of.

Izuku let out a howl of anguish, his angry sobs wracking his body uncontrollably. His friends said nothing as he continued to cry, his whole body shaking so much Iida could feel it through the floor. Momo sobbed quietly in her husband’s arms while tears began to stream down Iida’s cheeks as well.

“She was so young,” Iida whispered to himself in a daze.

Even Todoroki felt his cheeks moisten as tears escaped and ran down his face, dripping onto the floor with soft tapping sounds that could barely be heard in between Izuku’s pained howls.

__________________

Izuku walked aimlessly through the woods that bordered Ochako’s backyard, Iida, Momo, and Todoroki following behind him in a grief enhanced daze. The police had been called as soon as the four of them were calm enough to talk into the phone without choking on more tears, but as soon as they had arrived, the four young heroes had left, not wanting to stick around while the police probed Ochako’s empty house. The heroes were barely paying attention to where they were going, just mindlessly following wherever the path beneath their feet took them, the bright full moon shining down on them from in between the jagged branches of the large trees that loomed above them.

All Izuku could think about was the things he should’ve done as he walked. All he could think about were the things he should’ve said or the things he could’ve done to prevent her from being killed. He thought back to their argument, how he should’ve fought harder for her, how he should’ve brought her back to his place so they could talk things over, or stayed at her place on the couch. He should’ve fought for her, but it was too late now, she was gone and all that was left was a deep pit of suffocating grief and despair.

All four of them heard a twig snap but none of them looked up, all of them lost in depression. Momo huddled even closer to her husband, snuggling against his arm and linking her fingers with his as more tears ran down her face. Iida merely stared off into space, his glasses askew on the bridge of his nose, and his hair spiked up from the number of times he had run his hands through it. Izuku glanced back at his friends and his heart clenched at the sight of them, so lost, so dead-looking. He hated himself when he felt jealousy rear up in his chest at the sight of Momo and Shouto huddled together and forced his gaze to return to the trail as they made their way even deeper into the woods.

Izuku felt a chilly breeze nip at his skin and he shivered, wanting nothing more than to feel Ochako’s warm, solid form against his, her face pressed into his neck so that her warm breath could fan out across his skin. The thought made him feel even colder and he wrapped his arms around himself, desperate to feel something other than the numbing cold.

That was when a low growl penetrated the air causing all four heroes to freeze on the spot. Izuku’s eyes widened at the sound and he slowly turned to his left to face the owner of the noise, his blood running cold at the sight of two reddish-brown eyes staring back at him from the darkness. Izuku saw Todoroki carefully slide in front of Momo, his arm reaching out just slightly to block her protectively. Iida tensed but did not move, his gaze slanted to the side as he watched the strange figure from the corners of his eyes. The low growl sounded again, this time accompanied by the eyes narrowing and getting closer to them. Izuku tensed but did not move as the figure finally moved into the light of the moon, revealing a huge wolf.

The wolf had chocolatey brown fur with a few reddish highlights that accented its chest, face, and back. Its teeth were bared and its claws were flexing in the dirt, causing Izuku’s eyes to dart down, noticing the blood that was caked on the creature’s paws. Izuku sucked in a breath as the beast lowered itself to the ground, its sharp gaze never leaving his, a determined fire swimming in its eyes. The fur all along its back was raised threateningly, the wolf appearing twice as large.

Izuku was terrified at that moment. He definitely knew about werewolves, had learned all about them when he was a young boy in school. He knew that when they took a special medicine that they could act like normal people even in their wolf form but also knew that when they didn’t take their pills, they were one of the most deadly creatures on that planet. Their bite was infectious, and that was if you even lived long enough to escape in the first place. Izuku swallowed thickly, never looking away from the wolf as it inched closer to him. He had no idea what it was doing, all four of them should’ve been dead already, werewolves were known for being silent, efficient killers.

The wolf tilted its head before raising a paw to rub at its ear, whimpering softly, almost as if it were in pain. The beast shook its head and started to weave back and forth in place. Izuku didn’t know what to think, what was going on here? Tilting his head, Izuku tried to get a closer look until the beast lunged at him slightly, snapping its jaws in a warning. Izuku got the message and backed off, holding his hands up in surrender as the werewolf tried to sort through whatever it was going through.

Out of the corner of his eye, Izuku saw Todoroki’s fingers twitch. He sucked in a breath, just waiting for the wolf to notice. When the beast did nothing, the creature obviously too busy with whatever dilemma it was going through to pay attention, Izuku slowly released his breath and nodded so slightly it was almost invisible. In a flash, Izuku leaped out of the way and Todoroki sent a wave of ice at the beast. Despite being distracted, the wolf moved faster than any of them could’ve ever imagined, dodging the ice and rushing Todoroki, murder spelled out in the snarl it released.

“SHOUTO!” Momo cried out, using her quirk to create a shield in the knick of time, shoving the slab of metal into the wolf’s mouth and moving in front of her husband protectively. The wolf ripped at the metal and leaped away as Todoroki aimed a shard of ice right for its face, a chunk of metal lodged in its teeth. The creature dropped the metal and snarled again, lowering into a crouch once more, its tail waving above its back menacingly.

“Everybody form a group!” Iida called out, moving closer to his friends and lowering himself into a fighting stance to match the werewolf, his own angry glare fixed on the beast in front of him. Izuku, Todoroki, and Momo copied him, forming a kill circle in front of the wolf, their fists raised and their faces set.

The wolf snarled again and launched for Iida, its tail streaming out behind it as it moved. Iida grunted as the wolf’s weight hit him full-on, knocking him to the ground.

“IIDA!” Izuku yelled as he watched his friend fall. The wolf froze for a minute, its eyes wide and its jaw slack, giving Momo just enough time to grasp the beast by the scruff of the neck and haul it off of Iida with both hands and a loud yell. The wolf yelped a little and stood back up but did not charge again, this time looking at the four people in front of it with a shocked expression. Its wide brown eyes caught Izuku’s attention. Those eyes, they looked like…

As soon as the emotion in its gaze appeared it was gone, back to a glare of death as it eyed the four with a snarl back on its face, its teeth gleaming pearly white in the moonlight. The wolf lowered itself to the ground again, and the four prepared to fight once more when the wolf did something very strange. It leaped into the air like it did last time, aiming to attack Izuku, only to suddenly throw itself past the power hero, hitting a tree instead. The beast groaned and let its head hang, its tongue hanging out so that strings of saliva dripped from its teeth and landed on the forest floor.

That was when Izuku noticed it. A small gleam in the moonlight, something that made Izuku gasp and freeze. Hanging from the wolf’s neck was a long chain that carried a small pendant on the end. The pendant was of the planet Saturn, a small necklace he had found at a little shop several years ago. He had bought it for Ochako when they first started dating, the little keychain reminding him of her and her ability to float anything as if they were in space. He had even had it engraved with her name just for the hell of it. She had cried when he gave it to her, hugging him and thanking him over and over again. He never understood her overexcitement at what he saw as a small gesture, but now, he understood. Everything came crashing together in an overwhelming tide of understanding. He couldn’t read whether or not her name was on the keychain in the dark of the night but he knew, he knew in his heart that it was the same one.

Todoroki suddenly raised his arm, ready to send another wave of ice at the beast while it was leaning against the tree it had thrown itself against, too lost within its mind to notice.

“TODOROKI NO!” Izuku cried out, leaping at his friend. The wolf whipped around and snarled at the noise, its fur rising again and its lips curling back to flash its teeth one more time.

“Midoriya? What the hell!?”

“Don’t attack her! It’s Ochako!”

“What?” His three friends stopped dead at Izuku’s words.

“W-What!? How do you know?” Momo asked. “And if that is her, why is she attacking us?”

“I know because she is wearing a necklace I got for her when we first started dating, and I don’t think she can control herself, that’s why she’s attacking us. She’s trying to hold back though, that’s why she didn’t strike me!” Izuku said quickly, turning to face the large wolf who was starting to get agitated again.

“Hey, hey ‘Chako, it’s me, Izuku. Remember me, baby? Come on back to me, it’s alright, we won’t hurt you, I promise,” Izuku cooed softly, slowly lowering himself onto his knees and gently holding one hand out.

Ochako snarled lowly but did not lash at him. Izuku did not move another muscle but carefully met her gaze, his eyes brightening at the sight of her chocolatey brown eyes looking back at him. Even though they didn’t have her normally bright, determined expression, he knew it was her. All of his grief was washed away at the sight of her, even if she was trying to kill them, she was alive, and that’s all that mattered to him.

“That’s it, easy girl, it’s me. I’m here for you, just don’t kill us and we can help you,” Izuku said, continuing to speak softly.

Another snarl but less aggressive this time.

“Yeah, I’m right here and I’m not leaving, no matter what happens, alright? Come back to me.”

A loud growl.

“You’re my best friend, Ochako, you have been with me through everything, given me so much love, so much care, made me feel so important and appreciated. And that was while dealing with all of this! If only I’d known, you’ve had to deal with this all on your own, I’m so sorry.”

A softer growl.

“I know you, Ochako. If it were up to you, you’d never use your fangs against the undeserving. You are so strong but also so kind, and loyal and smart. This isn’t you, but I can see the real you in there, trying to come out. Just keep pushing, Ochako, keep fighting.”

An even softer growl, her tail twitching slightly.

“You’d never hurt Iida. You’d never hurt Momo or Shouto. You’d never hurt me,” Izuku said, a tear slipping down his cheek. “I love you.”

A whimper.

“I love you so damn much it hurts. So I’m not letting you go. Keep fighting and we can work together, just like we always do in a crisis. Remember how you always comfort me when I struggle with losing a battle or being unable to save someone? Well, now it’s my turn to return the favor. Come back to me, come back to us. I love you,” Izuku whispered. “I love you.”

Ochako suddenly launched at him, her jaws locking around his forearm.

“Izuku-!” All three of his friends shouted but Izuku cut them off.

“I’m fine, you guys, don’t move.”

Izuku could feel her jaws trembling around his arm. He knew she was fighting so hard. Her werewolf instincts were screaming at her to tear off his arm and rip out his throat while her human instincts were trying over and over again to remind her brain that these were her friends. Izuku bit his tongue to avoid letting out the hiss that bubbled in his throat when her fangs sank a little deeper into his flesh, drawing two points of blood.

“I love you, Ochako Uraraka, and I always will,” Izuku said, throwing all caution to the wind and raising his free hand up to stroke the fur on her cheek. Ochako froze, her eyes narrowing on his fingers before she closed them, relishing in the feeling of his fingers running through her surprisingly soft fur. Her mouth slowly opened to gently release him, her eyes fluttering open to see his tear-streaked face negated by a beaming smile.

“I-Izuku?”

“That’s it ‘Chako! That’s it! It’s me, Izuku!” Izuku said, overjoyed at the sight of her tail beginning to wag. She had done it. She had broken free of her instincts. Very few, if any werewolves had ever done that before. Ochako groaned and shook her head, her ears flopping as she moved.

“Ugh, what happened? Iida, Todoroki, Momo, what are you guys doing here? Where are we?”

“O-Ochako?” Momo asked softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her own lips as she caught sight of her friend with her sense finally back to normal despite the full moon that still hung high in the sky.

“Why are we in the woods…?” Ochako asked before trailing off, her eyes widening. She quickly looked down at her paws and then behind her, wagging her tail as if checking to see if it was real. She then looked up and growled at the full moon.

“Shit…” Ochako muttered looking back down to make eye contact with each of her friends in turn.

“Hey, Ochako it’s alright, we all-” Izuku was cut off when he reached out to touch her again, only for her eyes to widen and her fur to rise again.

“Ochako?”

“I hurt you,” Ochako said, her eyes glued to the bite wound on his arm.

“Oh, it’s nothing really, Ochako, nothing I can’t handle,” Izuku said but she wasn’t listening. Backing away slowly, Ochako tucked her tail between her legs and flattened her ears in shame, her eyes never leaving the bloody marks.

“Ocha-”

Ochako bolted before he could say another word. She heard him call after her but she continued on, her eyes watering as she gritted her teeth in fury at herself. She injured Izuku, her beloved, something she had vowed to never do. She could’ve killed him, she could’ve easily killed all of them. And then what would she do? She couldn’t live without them, and she would never forgive herself if something like that happened. She already hated herself for what happened that night. She ran until she couldn’t run anymore, her heart breaking until she howled into the brightening sky, unable to take the pain anymore.

#mha #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #bnha #my hero academia fanfic #my hero academia #izuku x uraraka #ochako x izuku #izuku midoriya #urakara ochako #izuocha-fanfic #izuocha #werewolves #bnha werewolves #werewolf ochako

[imagine-the-energon]

We Were Wrong Chapter 6

Annabelle reacts (Part 2)

tw: death, canon graphic violence

The bridge was quiet as I walked in, all eyes downcasted as I went to my desk, where Scorpion was waiting. As I moved to sit down, he gently grasped my forearms and pulled me into a tight hug, smashing my face into his shoulder. PDA while on shift wasn’t exactly disallowed, but we never really did it unless it was truly needed.

And right now it was the one thing I needed most.

The bridge was silent as I began to cry, Scorpion rubbing my back gently as I twisted his shirt in my hands. “I did all of this,” I whispered. “I froze over 80,000 people and shot us off into space for what? To be told that our only chance is dead? I did this.”

“It’s ok Annie,” he mumbled in my ear as I pressed my face into his scarred shoulder. “It’s ok, I promise. Everything will be fine.” I felt another pair of arms surround me and looked up to see a misty eyed Iggy smiling at me. Slowly, the others who could joined. Seperate by countries, we were weak and never stood a chance, but together, as one species…

We were strong, and our chances doubled.

——————————————————————————————————-

My hand shook as I took the data pad from Prowl. If he saw it, which I knew he did, he didn’t mention it. “This holds… a report on what happened?” I asked, swallowing thickly.

“In a sense,” the mech replied. “Cybertronians are different from humans. We have the ability to upload certain memories to ensure facts remain facts.” Something harsh was stabbing away at my chest as I almost dropped the pad.

“This… is a video?” I whispered in horror. “I thought this was just going to be a standard report.”

“It is a-,” the mech cut himself off. “You wished for a human standard report. I apologise.”

“It… it’s fine Prowl. This will… this will suffice. Thank you for allowing me access.” At my words, he nodded and dismissed me, allowing me to leave his makeshift office and stagger down the hall.

“Commander Draco, are you alright ma’am?” Falcon asked as she turned the corner to find me leaning against the wall, wiping my face.

“I’m fine Private,” I replied, standing up straight. As I got to my quarters, however, I sat down at the desk and stared at the pad, biting my lip. Did I really want to do this? No, not really. Did I have to do this? Yes. Grabbing the whiskey and a glass, I took a deep breath before activating the pad.

——————————————————————————————————-

Jazz stood beside Optimus nervously, his visor picking up any and all movement from the opposite side of the valley. “Are you sure that he will come after you and not the humans?” Bumblebee asked softly, gazing every now and then at the holo attached to his wrist. On it was an image of the yellow mech and his two charges, Samuel Witwicky and Mikaela Banes.

“Forget about humanity, Bumblebee.” The silver mech jolted in shock at the harsh words that came from their normally kind leader. “They chose to remove us from their planet and by that, they chose the decepticons over us autobots.”

“Optimus, we know that’s not true.” Ironhide pleaded quietly.  Distinctly, the silver mech remembered him pleading with Prime that the human family he was supposed to be protecting needed to go with them, that little ‘Belle was something special.

“Whether it’s true or not we’re not allowed back.” Sideswipe mumbled from where he was brooding beside Sunstreaker, a holo similar to Bumblebee between them, showing the ever smiling Epps family.  He felt his spark clench and looked away, turning back towards the valley.

“What if we did go back,” Ratchet asked. “And humanity was destroyed? All because we made one mistake and instead of staying to fix it, we left them to die the one way we swore would never happen again?”

“The odds of the Matrix being on Earth are astronomical, especially considering that the Allspark was found planetside as well.” Prowl pipped up from where he was at Jazz’s side.

“Don’t underestimate humans Prowler,” Jazz said, quickly remembering that the mech hadn’t gotten to Earth in time to meet everyone. “One of them killed Megatron.”

“And yet he still lives.” He replied in a dry tone that almost had the smaller mech laughing. A few klicks passed before he backed away, the other mech following him.

“Prowl, I-I’d like to tell you something.” He vented as words failed him. “I lo-.”

“Decepticons!” Ironhide yelled.

The two mechs raced back to their positions, drawing out their weapons as around a hundred ‘Cons crawled and flew down the valley’s walls. They had little preparation as they seemed to swarm around the small team within nanoklicks.

He wasn’t sure where they were all coming from, only that for everyone one offlined, another leapt forward to take their fallen comrade’s place. He could feel his systems grow sluggish, and as he glanced around, a sickening feeling settled in his tanks.

There, at the edge of the cliffs, were several Decepticons with wires that were heading right for… “Optimus!” He yelled out just as his system was given an electric shock. His systems shut down a milliklick later.

——————————————————————————————————-

Elita was cutting the neck cables of a brown colored ‘con when she heard Jazz’s cry, and she turned just in time to see her Conjunx behind attacked from behind, dozens of wires and cables wrapping around his servos and neck. The seekers within the group shot up, holding the lines, and she watched in horror as her mate struggled to get fresh air into his vents, struggling to move his arms to get the wires to loosen.

She didn’t notice the ‘Cons holding her back as a seemingly decrepit, black mech warped in front of Optimus holding two objects that made her energon run cold. One she knew from her femmeling stages, when she went to Iacon and cared for the Allspark as well as several other relics for an orn. The other she only knew from stories, whispers of an era lost to time.

The Matrix of Leadership, her processor whispered. The only thing that can claim a Prime’s Spark for good.

“Optimus Prime,” the mech hissed, holding up the last shard of the Allspark. “I’ve long awaited for this day.”

Distantly, she could feel recognition from the bond as Optimus said something that had the old mech slashing at his chest piece with a wicked looking sword like staff. Orion! She yelled over the bond just to have it slam shut in her face.

Even with the bond shut, it did little to stop the excruciating pain as Bumblebee screamed out for his mech creator.

——————————————————————————————————-

I stared at the empty bottle that once had whiskey, bitter that I couldn’t get drunk anymore, before blinking slowly and standing up, shakily moving towards the bathroom and spewing my guts into the toilet. As I wiped the vomit off of my lips and washed my mouth out, there was a knock at the door. “Commander Draco?” It was Wolf – Wynnifer.

“Enter, please.” I rasped out, and I saw her grimace as I met her in the main room. “Sorry, I just… finished the report.” Blinking furiously, I saw her face soften almost immediately. “Did you know a standard report for Cybertronians includes videos? I just watched Optimus Prime get quartered and then his armor tore off. Even Megatron had to look away.”

“They were twins.” she murmured, gently taking my hands and pulling me to the bed. “Is it true, the rumors? Can you truly find a way to bring him back?”

“With the way he was killed? Hell if I know. I don’t even know if they put him together again.” I said with a bitter laugh. “I have the power of Primus at my fingertips, a power that comes with being a Prime, and I can’t even use it to bring the Earth back.”

Wynnifer took a lock of my hair that fell into my face and gently tucked it behind my ear, smiling softly. “You can do it, Annabelle. If there’s anything that serving with the U.E.S. has told me, it’s that you and those around you can do anything should you put your mind to it. We all came to the acceptance that Earth was dead as soon as the Sun went out, it just took a few more years to act on it. You’ve done wonderfully, and your parents would be so proud if they could see you now.”

I closed my eyes and leaned into her hand, smiling slightly. “Thank you.”

#The Oracle Prime Legacy #We Were Wrong #Transformers #Transformers Bayverse #Bayverse #Annabelle Lennox #Prowl #Optimus Prime #Elita One #Bumblebee #Jazz #Sideswipe #Sunstreaker #The Fallen #megatronus #Elite Trine #Original Characters #tw death #tw violence #Ratchet #Ironhide #maccadam

[jonnmurphy]

147 with murven, pretty please

Okay so I’m just going through my inbox to write some drabbles and try to get back into doing fan fic. I think I know which prompt lists most of these were from, but I might be wrong. All of these are several years old tho, so idk. All drabbles are unedited and prone to many typos, sorry my dudes

147: “ I can take care of myself just fine.”

Some days, everything is fine. Well, as fine as things get. Sure, society as a whole is on the brink of collapse and they’re constantly struggling to avert the latest disaster, but there are communal dinners and picking out rooms in the farmhouse, and sometimes Raven gets to sit in the sun for a few minutes and she can pretend nothing bad is happening. They make jokes, and Indra is way too intense, and Raven sasses at Murphy who gives as good as he gets, and Clarke gets to be a mom, and it’s just... Nice.

But some days Raven wakes up with phantom pain dancing a jig hand in hand with her actual, chronic pain, and she wants to vomit as she puts on her brace, fingers shaking and tears stinging her eyes. She wants to cut off her leg, and go run away into the woods and live in the underground caves and never have to look at the people around her and remember the heartbreak that never seems to end. She doesn’t want to solve problems, and she doesn’t want to play nice, and those days her sarcasm turns to aggression, and everyone leaves her alone to work on motorcycles, throwing wrenches and cursing loudly.

And then there are the days where she can’t turn all that pain into rage. The days where she just wants to be held, she wants someone to see through every wall she’s put up, and she just wants to cry. And those days scare her most of all, because she knows how dangerous that is. She knows how much worse it gets when someone does see you, and then they leave. Taken away by the whims of fate, and the hands of her friends. 

On days like that, of which today is one, she grabs a little jar full of insects - just in case, Raven has had more than enough mind manipulation for one life time thank you very much - and she goes into the woods. Research, she says. Sometimes she does study things, sorrow held at bay temporarily by a new discovery. But, more often than not, she finds her way up a hill or a tree, straining against her own limitations to get somewhere with a view. Somewhere that reminds her of spacewalks. And when she gets there, she sits down, and she cries. The sort of crying she doesn’t do in front of the others, not anymore. The sort that tears at something inside of her, makes it raw and bloody, and is impossible to stop.

And everyone always leaves her alone.

Which is why, when Raven hear a very distinct pattern of footsteps approaching, she immediately goes on full alert. Sure, the Children of Gabriel no longer live in the woods ready to attack anyone they see, but that doesn’t mean it’s necessarily safe. There could be a new splinter cell of them, or one of the convicts deciding they’d rather not do hard labour, or some new and unknown threat. So Raven rubs the tears from her face quickly and clumsily, grabbing her gun and turning towards the noise.

“Really, Raven? I thought you and I had moved past pointing guns at each other.” Murphy’s unfortunately familiar form emerges from the tree line, hands held up in surrender. 

Just great, the one person she really doesn’t have the energy to deal with today.

“Go away, Murphy.” Raven grumbles as she turns away from him, laying down her gun and staring out at the vista beyond the cliff she’s sitting just shy of.

“Now, when has that ever worked?” Murphy chuckles as he completely ignores her, walking over and sitting next to her as if invited.

“Why can’t you ever do what you’re told?” Raven asks, wishing that it would sound more snarky and less whiny. But her voice betrays how pathetic she feels, and she can only hope Murphy is as oblivious to human emotion as he says he is.

“Oh, like you’re such a good little soldier yourself.” Murphy quips back, which, fair point. But Raven doesn’t have to admit that, at least not to him.

“What do you want, Murphy?” Raven asks hollowly. She really doesn’t have it in her for their normal back and forth.

“Other than the pleasure of your stimulating company?” She can see him turn to look at her out of the corner of her eye, but Raven doesn’t turn her own head. She keeps staring ahead, knowing how she must look, all puffy eyes and barely restrained tears. “Ugh, I guess some people are worried about you.”

He sounds so put upon by the concept, and Raven can’t help the bitter scoff that escapes her.  Where are they, then, all these people who are concerned about her? Not that she wants them, she reminds herself. She wants to be left alone, this pain is temporary, and it’s better this way.

Safer.

“So they sent you?” Raven asks the clouds, and Murphy sighs. Honestly, if it was Clarke and them, why would they send the least empathetic individual they all know to talk to her?

“Well, I-”

“Listen, Murphy, don’t bother.  I can take care of myself just fine.” She cuts him off, because she doesn’t want to hear it. She doesn’t want him here, she just wants him to leave her alone so she can go back to crying again.

“Well that’s clearly not true,” Murphy drawls, and Raven finally looks at him, if only to glare. But he’s looking at the sky now, tapping his fingers on his thigh, either nervous, or bored with the whole thing. Either way, he should just leave if he’s so uncomfortable.

“I’m fine,” Raven retorts, and Murphy looks over to level her with a look that clearly says he knows just as well as her how bullshit that statement is. Raven shakes her head, amending her words, “Well, I will be fine. I just- I just need to be alone for a bit.”

“No, you don’t,” Murphy says, probably just to be contrary. It sparks a little bit of anger in Raven, just enough to singe the heavy blanket of sadness clinging to her.

“Listen here, Murphy, you don’t even know what I’m going through, or what I need, so don’t pretend you have any say in this, and-” Raven rants with heat, and Murphy has the audacity to roll his eyes at her, “Seriously?!”

“Raven, for someone so smart, you’re so dumb sometimes. Of course I don’t know what you’re going through, because you never told me. Or anyone, actually, from what I can tell. But I don’t have to know what’s going on with you to know that you don’t have to be alone through it.” Murphy is oddly sincere, and Raven can feel her scrap of anger fading, and she’s afraid. Afraid of what might happen when it’s gone, if Murphy’s still here and her walls don’t hold. 

“Murphy, just go back to whoever sent you and tell them I’m not in any danger, okay?” Raven tries, as a last ditch attempt, and Murphy groans in frustration.

“No one sent me, Raven. It’s me, I’m the “some people” who are worried. Because I get it, okay? I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I know what it feels like, and it sucks. And being alone? That’s even worse. So you don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to, you can yell at me, or hit me, or whatever you need to do, but I’m not leaving you.”

The words aren’t kind or caring, and honestly Murphy kind of shouts them at her. But they’re real, she knows, because Murphy would never lie for anyone’s benefit but his own. Which means, for whatever reason, he actually cares, and that hits Raven like a tonne of bricks. All the air leaves her lungs, the fight leaves her body, and she doesn’t know what to do. Murphy, to his credit, doesn’t say anything else. He simply shrugs, leans back on his hands, and looks up at the sky again.

Raven is left with a choice. She can get up and leave, she can pretend she really is fine, or she can just... be. And it’s hard to stand, with the weight of the world crushing her, so she doesn’t leave. And honestly, she isn’t fine. She hasn’t been fine for a long time. Which means she takes the last option, and she’s not proud of it, but she’s not really ashamed either. She hugs her knees to her chest, and she cries, and Murphy just sits there. Eventually, when her sobs become sniffles, he rubs her back a little, without otherwise looking at her or saying anything. And it’s a little weird, yes, but the thing inside of her that is raw and bleeding feels like someone put a bandaid on it. It isn’t much, it certainly isn’t enough to fix it if the thing ever can be fixed, but it’s something.

And she isn’t alone.

#murven #john murphy #raven reyes #the 100 #drabble #fan fic #man i forgot how much i loved writing angst #also this feels really good to actually finish something #even if it's just tiny like this #Anonymous

[spahhzy]

Myosotis. Pt.8 : Stormbound

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The familiar light of the broken moon greeted her silver eyes once more. The gentle breeze and the swaying of tree's from the forest behind her filled her ears. "This is not the Bullhead" Ruby thought to herself but enjoying the feeling of serenity that the moon brought.

Looking away from the moon she could see Beacon down below, the moons light illuminating the academy from the darkness, really making it live up to its name.

"Ruby?"

Came the voice she has come to love and cherish much over their time together.

The crunching of grass from a pair of boots was audible and getting progressively louder until finally it stop right near her. Turning her head slightly upward she was met with the loving, bright smile of one Jaune Arc.

"What are you doing up out here so late?" Questioned the blonde as he sit down next to the rose, who just shrugged, still staring out into valley below.

"This place...is just soothing ya know?" She said to him and he just hummed to her in acknowledgement.

Silence fell again.

"Hey Rubes...this ain't a bad spot to get buried you think?" That caused Ruby to turn to look at him questioningly.

Jaune just continued looking out over the cliff.

"I mean look at the view!" He said pointing out below.

"Its dark Jaune but...sure I know what you mean" giggled Ruby , shuffling over a bit to lean against Jaune.

"Hey Rubes...if I die...mind burying me here?" Chuckled Jaune to which Ruby chuckled as well giving him a light slap on the shoulder.

"Sure Vomit Boy but that won't be till we are both old and grey how about we both get buried here" That statement caused Jaune to snort but nod in agreement.

"Great -yawn- glad we got burial placements out the way" said a sleepy Jaune to which he felt a shift as Ruby motioned him to come lay down in her lap.

Jaune heartily accepted the invitation and laid his head into her lap staring up at those loving silver eyes.

"Gotta tell ya Ruby...the moon ain't got nothing on you" he told her to which she blushed and ran a hair through his blonde hair.

In seconds the blonde knight fell asleep.

Ruby smiled at her adorable knight. Closing her eys she sighed contently.

She could stay here forever.

.

.

"Time waits for no one little rose"

Snapping her eyes back open she looked up to where she thought she heard the voice only to see that the night sky was tinged an eerie red.

Smoke started filling her nostrils and she turned her head towards the forest of which she treasured so much, Burning to the ground.

It wasn't until she tried to move her body that she couldn't. The horrifying realization set it.

"This is a nightmare"

"Oh sweet little rose...this is no nightmare"

She twisted her head to try and pinpoint the voice but it was seemingly everywhere!

Her eyes finally settled back to Beacon...or what remained.

Beacon laid in ruins. Fires all but consumed every inch of the school that had given hope to people. Now laid to ash.

No this can't be happening...who could have done such a thing!

"Oh we both know the answer to that"

That damned voice was teasing her now!

"Wh-who are you!?" She spoke out trying her best to remain calm as the voice just chuckled at her.

"You know who I am"

Ruby was sweating bullets trying to come up with an answer, the smoke from the forest fire behind her making it hard to breath.

"I am "

Ruby suddenly felt something very cold touch her cheek and she realized it was a hand.

Hyperventilating she looked down and was met with lifeless blue eyes and a bloody smile.

She screamed.

"Your reality"

Snapping back to reality Ruby jolted forward from her seat. Breathing heavily.

"Ruby" came the concerned voice of her knight. He gentle pulled her into a hug as she steady catched her breath.

"Did you have another nightmare?" He asked to which Ruby nodded. She reached to her side and opened up a bottled water and chugged it down immensely.

"Sis you okay?"came the concerned voice of Yang to which Ruby nodded but Yang was skeptical.

"Ruby... your crying" Yang said which caused Ruby to wipe her eyes with her shirt.

"I - I had another nightmare again..." she said to her sister who got up from her seat and proceeded to nudge Ruby to get up as well.

"Come on were going to the bathroom to clean you up" she said to her little sister with a tone that left no room for argument.

Ruby looking at Jaune who just smiled at her.

" go Rubes you know how yang can get" he teased and Ruby rolled her eyes before getting out of the seat and following yang to the bathroom.

Jaune just looked on as Ruby left, a frown visible.

-

This bullhead was unnecessarily big. Well thats what you get when you travel with anything from the schnee's.

"Can you believe it! this bathroom is almost as big as my room at home!" Yang said to Ruby who just looked around before going to a sink and turning on the cold water, she started applying it to her face.

"Was it the same nightmare as last time?" Her sister asked to which Ruby shook her head.

"No...this one was different...the forest was buring and beacon was in ruins...but their was this voice" she stopped and yang just raised a brow.

"A voice?" She questioned and Ruby sighed before applying more water to her face.

"What did the voice say?" To which for some reason Ruby hesitated to answer.

"Hey remember its just a nightmare... its not real" Her sister reassured her which calmed Ruby down.

" 'I am your reality'" I s what the voice said before their was screaming and I woke up" She said to her before looking at Yang, who for the most part looked unfazed.

"Hey give me one second imma go get you a towel" and on that note Yang exited quickly much to the confusion of Ruby but decided not to push it.

Sighing for what was the trillionth time before submerging her head under the cold stream of water trying to wash away the weariness.

"Running away...so unlike you"

Fear shot through Ruby like electricity as she shot her head up from the sink.

She looked around to find the bathroom completely empty. Shaking her head and swallowing the lump in her throat, she turned back towards the mirror.

But looking back at her was not her silver eyed self.

No staring back at her hauntingly with black scalera and red pupils with evil smile adorning her face.

Gasping before smashing her fist into the mirror , in a panic. Glass shattering and falling onto the floor. Ruby was beginning to hyperventilate again.

"Just breath Rubes...just breath" she said trying to calm herself down before wincing a little as she looked down at her right hand which was now bleeding from the shards of glass.

"Weiss is gonna kill me" she cursed to herself before collecting the pieces of glass, carefully to not cause more injuries, before throwing the shards in the trash.

Closing her eyes, she let out another shaky breath before turning to fix the cut on her hand.

She turned only to be met with black rob.

Slowly she tilts her head up to see the same evil smile and crimson red eyes looking down upon her.

Shaking her head slowly, and backing up in fear at who was in front of her..

"N-no but me and Jaune..we w-we killed you" Ruby stuttered terror flooding her body as her brain scrambled for a solution. She could NOT be here. Her and Jaune ended her in her own palace. Salem should no longer be ALIVE.

The woman brought a hand to her chin pretending to ponder.

"Oh if thats the case why am I here? Their are...other ways? Hmm to immortality...just ask dear ozzy" Salem taunted before moving forward which only caused Ruby to move a step back.

"Tsk tsk You are running away again, I see" she chided to the reaper, who in turn started whimpering in fear and tried backing up but each step she took, Salem got on step closer.

"Don't worry...you can only run so far from the truth...and I'm going to be with you" She said to Ruby who's back was now against the wall.

Salem bent down to Rubys ear, fear paralyzed the reaper who could do nothing but stare helplessly like a fish out of water.

"Every step of the way"

A gasp of air finally manged to make its way to Ruby as she looked around.

Salem was gone.

"Rubes I'm back had to get the towels from the other- Ruby!" Yang voice finally came through and soon enough lilac eyes looked at her in worry.

"Whats going on? Is everything al-oh my Ruby!" Summer came in rushing to her daughters side, who was now shaking in fear.

"Yang go get the med-kit we need to stitch the hand" all she heard was Yang running across the tile floor.

"Ruby sweetie look at me" Summer said sweetly which caused Ruby to look at her "its gonna be okay sweetie" but that did nothing and offered no comfort. She needed warmth, she needed comfort. Instantly her mind thought of one person.

"Jaune"

As soon as the name was said from her mouth, ocean blue eyes met her gaze and a tuft a blonde hair as bright as the sun appeared behind summer. A smile on his face as he wrapped a comforting arm around her.

"Its gonna be okay crater face...your gonna be okay"

And with that Ruby feel asleep.

---

"Mom...whats happening...only time it got this bad is when she..."

"I know yang I know..."

"Do you? I saw the fear in her eyes... Ruby isn't scared that easily mom..."

A sigh.

"Do you think Ruby...is...remembering?"

" for the life of me little dragon...I hope not...I don't think she can take it "

Yang looked out the window of the bullhead. Eyes red in anger as they saw the dark clouds forming.

A storm was coming.

Took longer then I wanted too really, my bad.

#rwby jaune #ruby x jaune #rwby lancaster

[dragynkeep]

You know I'm still pissed how they handled the whole Argus/getting to Atlas thing so let me word vomit for a bit because I have a better idea on how they get there. (Part 1) First throw Rubys, "we've gotten by without adults before" speech out the window. Instead we follow through with her calling Qrow out on his shit. At least Jaune is thinking of ideas that's more than Qrow right now. If he wants to be useless fine stay in argus or fuck off but *they* will continue the fight and get to Atlas

Qrow realizes he's being a dumb bitch is like okay fine there is one thing we can do. I can't believe this hasn't been established but here goes, there are certain access points that are safe guarded where the inner circle can get a direct message to James so he can give his permission to esquort them to Atlas. Problem is for Argus it's the military base so instead of stealing an airship they just gotta sneak into the base long enough for Qrow to get through to James

it's then decided that Maria can act as a distraction by antagonizing Cordo into a fight between them giving Kerry his old lady fight (mmm okay) and also gived pay off into their rivarly. Qrow sneaks in as a bird and gets to the communication room. Meanwhile teams rwby and jnpr go patrol the outskirts of the coast to keep the relic away from people and pick off some grimm to keep busy. This is when Adam ambushes them. Oscar gets sent back to the military base for backup and his safety

So Oscar gets sent to the base for backup to capture a high profile terrorist and also keep him safe. But since Blake and Yang haven't dealt with their trauma it attracts even more grimm forcing jnpr to double back and take care of the grimm so it doesn't make its way to the city. Rwby then *all* face Adam as a team. But he's a punk bitch and decides he has to hurt them all. So he attacks Ruby like slash to the gut and sends her flying into the ocean to either drown or bleed out

This leads to all of team wby to give a final team attack. Adam can either be killed or subdued. Meanwhile Ruby has her breakdown wondering if all this is really worth it, if she's just meant to die like her mom? Her blood and fear attract sea grimm she has the montage of bad memories but she can just barely see something or someone coming her way. Jaune most likely since he'd be closer to the water He grabs her and wraps her cloak around the wound and trying to swim to the top.

his armour however weighs him down and using one arm to hold up Ruby makes it hard to swim to the top. Here Ruby realizes it's either Jaune or one of her friends trying to save her. She now has the montage of good memories maybe even Summer saying words of encouragement. Silver eyes vaporize all grimm in the surrounding area. This gives Jaune the push to swim up and get Ruby to shore Jaune closes the wound withhis semblance but Ruby still has blood loss. Now the military comes to help

Cordo sees Adam either captured alive or dead and an injuried Ruby is quickly transported to the military base for medical treatment. We can even do a cliche but very much needed scene wher Ruby is in the afterlife and talks to Pyrrha or her mom sharing her guilt and fear of failing but they encourage her to keep going. Ruby wakes up weak but alive. Nice family moment between Yanh, Ruby, and Qrow where they all agree this fight is worth seeing to the end and they can't give up.

Cordo as thanks for capturing/killing Adam gives them a pardon and Ironwood is contacted and gives special permission for them to be esquorted to Atlas. They either leave right away needing to get the relic put away or wait until Ruby heals. Ruby and Jaune can have a nice moment where she thanks him for saving her life, he's all like you saved my life in so many ways and he couldn't save Pyrrha he wasn't about to lose her too. Volume ends with the fleet in Atlas as a cliffhanger. Fin

First off, thank you for the word vomit ‘cause we know have an essay to ready through. Never put us through this torment again, I have dyslexia.

Starting off, getting rid of Ruby’s speech about not needing adults when the show seriously contradicts her is sorely needed. It makes Ruby come off as ungrateful and arrogant, and I’m not here for it. Qrow still needed that stern telling off from Ruby because he is being unreceptive to any of their suggestions and he isn’t helping at all, but none of the others even tried to help Qrow through his depressive spiral. I’d have Ruby and Yang trying together to get through to him, but not acting like he’s a burden when he’s having a relapse and needs help.

Mentioning other ways for Ozpin’s inner circle to contact one another would’ve been an interesting point, but it hasn’t been established at all. They should have some way to contact each other, but they don’t, and it’s just like what? How the fuck do they ever contact each other, use the bog standard CCT Towers like everyone else? That’s not secretive! No wonder Cinder hacked your phone, James, get Nord VPN! 

Because of this, you run into the territory of an Ass Pull. The heroes have run into a problem and are in a dead end, but wait! Qrow has this secret way to contact James that wasn’t established before and only brings it up now rather than attempting when they were in Haven! It would require redoing things in previous volumes for that to work. 

And a quick note, the idea of the heroes sneaking into the military base has me thinking of the prison scene in Shrek 2 where Shrek’s friends break Shrek, Donkey and Puss out of jail.

Positive note, but at least here Qrow remembers that he can turn into a bird to sneak into places, which is why Ozpin gave him the powers in the first goddamn place. 

With RWBYJNR staying away from Argus because of the relic actually gives consequences to the relic seemingly drawing Grimm. They can’t remain in Argus for long without putting it in danger, but now they’re in danger of Grimm attacks and anyone against them coming across the group. But having Adam do it, especially with the whole group, doesn’t really work. I’m always one to say that Adam is a good fighter, but there is no way he could take on the whole of Team RWBY and JNR, even if Yang and Blake are struggling with their own trauma relating to him. 

If he was picking them off one by one like Blake warned Sun about, then yeah, but I doubt the group would split up like that to allow him to pick them off, and they would just be dumb to split up anyway because they’re at risk of Grimm. I like the idea of Oscar going back to get backup, because it means that the heroes aren’t so arrogant that they believe they can handle everything themselves, plus it doesn’t hurt to build good relations with the people who you want to gain passage from. 

However, the reason that JNR tracks back doesn’t really make sense when you realise that for the amount of Grimm needed for them to deal with without fear of failure, the city could easily handle themselves if they appear. The only reason that Argus was overwhelmed by Grimm in canon is because Cordovin took the mech to fight the heroes and took it away from defense. Here, the mech and defenses are still in Argus, ready to use if the amount of Grimm that would be attracted by the negativity of two people appeared. It feels like JNR left because the plot told them to, not because there’s a legit reason for them to. 

Even the whole fight between WBY and Adam has the same problems as canon. This is Blake versus her abuser, but rather than Yang overtaking the fight in canon, it’s now Ruby being thrown off the cliff that’s taken precedence. It’s the wrong person taking the attention. Also, I’m not a fan that it’s Jaune that saves Ruby when he’s not even supposed to be there, since he’s doubled back with his team. It really should be Yang, we already have problems with the sisters not being given moments to be sisters. There is one later when Ruby wakes up, but that’s shared with Qrow, and it being Jaune who saves Ruby doesn’t fit in my opinion. 

The meeting with Pyrrha/Summer and Ruby in the afterlife? I would nix that. It’s a special thing that happened between Ozma and the GoL to show the otherworldliness of the gods and that Ozma is special. It’s not a common occurance that happens a lot in RWBY like in other shows like Naruto. Also, Ruby was not that close to Pyrrha, they had a handful of scenes together before Pyrrha died. I would see it more like Penny than Pyrrha in terms of someone who’s close to Ruby, but either way the scene doesn’t really work.

I get what you were trying to do with Jaune’s character. He couldn’t save Pyrrha so he wouldn’t let another one of his friends die, but this comes with the problem of taking away a moment that should’ve gone to Yang rescuing her sister, and that by the time this fight would come, Jaune has already reached the conclusion over Pyrrha. He has already started moving on from his guilt over her dealth. 

And reading the rest of this, that’s unfortunately the feeling I get. There’s some good bits here that I think would’ve made the season better, but it feels convoluted and that once again, the plot is driving the characters, not the characters driving the plot. 

#clover11-10 #rwby #rwde #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #jaune arc #nora valkyrie #lie ren #oscar pine #qrow branwen #adam taurus #answered #luke.txt #q

[starlightsoulwriting]

L’appel du Vide

Cliff Unger x Reader

L'appel du Vide (n.) The unexplainable desire to jump when on the edge of a cliff Call of The Void AO3 Link

Porters are going missing. You and Fragile are at each other’s throats, and you’re still reeling from your incident ten months ago. And, on top of all your shit, life decides to drop a Cliff on you.

[Prologue][1][x]

Part Two

Skull masks.

Blood on your hands. blood on the floor.

Knives. So many knives, all in your stomach and chest. When had that happened? When had you let Higgs back in your shelter? Why would you do that?

Sam was dead. Cliff was dead. And Heartman and Lockne and Deadman and Fragile. All dead and you would join them soon.

Higgs laughed at you when you cried.

“Didn't your parents ever tell you not to talk to strangers?”

You startled awake.

Tears streamed down your face, and you rolled over to throw up in the trash can, shaking like a leaf. Stupid brain, you thought, stupid nightmares, stupid Higgs. You coughed past your stinging throat, trying to breathe evenly but hyperventilating instead. Your scar stung in your stomach, despite nothing being there. The memories were enough to set it off.

You kicked your sheets off of you and stumbled to your bathroom, legs shaking. You needed a shower, and badly. You pressed your hands against your eyes, massaging your face in a hollow effort to calm yourself down. You felt like your lungs were made of sea urchins.

You missed the DOOMs nightmares. At least those hadn’t been so personal, so painful.

You stood under the tap and let the scalding water run over your body, forcing all the memories from your skin. His laughing, the knife, your blood - you scrubbed yourself off as if water could wash away your dreams, your flashbacks, the lingering feeling of his knee on your chest, holding you down.

When you made it to your jaw, you wanted to scream. You opted to slap the tiles of your shower instead, so hard it hurt. The phantom feeling of his tongue clung to your skin like tar, and the soap didn’t help, no matter how hard you tried to wash it off.

Let's see how fast Sam can run. His voice intruded in your head again, a record stuck on repeat, grating in your ears and spiking your heart rate. It wouldn’t go away, you could feel his hands on your neck, the knife at your side, digging in just enough to bleed.

Hot water, cold tiles, your favorite soap. Grounding was only helping so much.

You dug your hand into your thigh, nails digging in deep and stinging. You sang some old rock song to drown out the noise. He was far away from you. You were safe. You didn’t need to worry.

You don’t know how long you stayed in the shower crying. After a while it stopped, and left you feeling detached from your body, numb. You were raw and your skin was bright red, but you weren't covered in vomit, so that was something.

You turned off the shower.

You curled up in your blankets and called Heartman. You knew he might be sleeping, but there was a chance he would be up. Your hands shook as you found his contact.

“Y/N? Is everything alright?” He asked after the second ring, voice rough and tired. A wave of relief went through you. Heartman’s voice could drown out his.

“No, Heartman, I’m not okay.” You breathe, pulling the blankets over your head and burrowing in. It was dark except the soft blue glow of your comm. “I can still hear him. He’s on the other side of the continent and still won’t leave me alone.”

“What do you need? Should I put on my music?”

“Sure,” You needed to keep him on the phone, you could focus on him instead of your nightmares. “I’d like that.”

Neo-Classical music played over your speaker as he shared it with you. You closed your eyes, listening to the soft piano. This wasn’t the first time the two of you shared a late-night call.

“I can still feel it, sometimes,” You started again, just over a whisper, restless. “The knife.” You gulp, trying and failing to shove away your thoughts. “I’ve been doing everything Julia said would help but it’s not going away and I’m still so afraid, all the time,” You stopped talking when your eyes welled up, shutting your eyes harder as if that would stop the tears.

“I’m sorry,” He said simply, voice heavy. “I wish there was something more I could do to help. Do you want me to come over for a few days and keep you company? Or would that just make it worse?”

“I already have a visitor, but... Maybe after that.”

“You took in a guest?” He sounded surprised, but why wouldn’t he? You only let him and Sam in. Not even Lockne or Deadman, no. Or friends you’d known in your old shelter. You didn’t run your clinic or tours anymore, either. Too many strangers. Too dangerous. Not since you came back. Not since Higgs.

Not until Cliff.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “He’s a friend. Just needed a place to stay for the night.”

Heartman was quiet for a moment. “Do you think that’s why you had a nightmare tonight, having someone there? I know that’s a… sensitive matter.”

You sighed, not wanting to talk about technical aspects of your trauma with him. “Maybe,” you bit your lip and played with your fingers, itching to make paper stars but not wanting to move out from under your blanket mountain. “I’ll bring it up with Julia, though.” You said to reassure him more than yourself. You hated the thought of him worrying about you.

So you changed the subject, breathing starting to level out. You had so many thoughts running through your head about Cliff, you needed help figuring it out. “Hey, Heartman… some things happened yesterday that sound really crazy.” You took the risk in asking. You needed to know. “Promise me you won’t think I'm nuts?”

“Cross my heart,” He replied, going along without question.

“Is there a time limit on repatriation? Like, could someone be on the beach for ages and then come back just fine?”

“I suppose, as long as the body wasn’t destroyed, there shouldn’t be any reason they couldn’t. Why do you ask?”

You rubbed the back of your neck, mulling over your next words. “What if there wasn’t a body left?”

“Then there’s nothing for the soul to return to. They’d be trapped,” He paused. He’d heard the tension in your voice. “What’s wrong, Y/N? I thought you weren’t going to the beach anymore.”

He was right, you weren’t. There was no point in going unless it was to keep him company. “I didn’t find him on the beach. It was out in the mountains.” You stopped, bracing for his reaction. He was going to think you were insane, you just knew it. “He died forty years ago. He says he just woke up out by Lake Knot in spring. I know it’s true, too, but it’s making my brain explode trying to work out how it happened.”

There was a long silence. You tried not to think of how he was probably calling Julia, your therapist.

“You’re absolutely certain of this?” He said, eventually.

You nod absently, before remembering he can’t see you. “One hundred percent. I have his file and everything. How he died, the date, the cremation records - everything. I met him on the beach when I was looking for Sam, even.” The knot in your chest was untangling itself as the one in your brain wound itself tighter. “But here he is, alive and talking. I don’t know what to make of it.”

“I’ll call Fragile and have her take you both here right away then, this is unprecedented.” He started, voice picking up speed. “If what you’re saying is true, this could revolutionize the way we think about repatriation, especially in the wake of Amelie’s separation. There might even be a direct correlation - you said he woke up in spring? There might be unforeseen instabilities in the beach gone completely unnoticed -”

“Heartman.” You cut him off, wincing as soon as you did it, but you had to stop him before he got too far in. “Fragile is already taking him to Sam.” You’d gotten through to him after dinner, and given Cliff and him privacy by staying in your room and making an absurd number of paper stars. Fragile would be there in the morning to take him.

“Why would you take him to Sam’s?”

You were quiet as you double-checked your connection to make sure it was secure. Bridges liked to monitor the networks, to eavesdrop. “You’re using the VPN I sent you, right?” Your voice dropped back down to a whisper.

He must’ve sensed your seriousness because he responded in kind. “Always, of course.”

You hesitated. You could trust Heartman, but did he really need to know? Would Cliff be mad? Surely Sam would tell Heartman, himself, right?

“Y/n?”

“It’s Sam’s dad,” You breathed, barely hearing your own voice. “It’s Cliff Unger.”

...

“Fascinating.”

--

You’d given up on trying to get back to sleep at about four in the morning, opting to work on some projects instead. Or, more accurately, obsessively making origami to distract yourself. It gave your hands something to do, your mind something to focus on. Your works had become increasingly more complicated, thanks to network access. You could make anything you wanted. That morning you were working on an Asian dragon design you messed up three times before.

Cliff woke up just after than four-thirty, with bags under his eyes. Both of you were surprised the other was up so early, but neither of you pried. You didn’t ask so he wouldn’t. You assumed he did the same.

Breakfast was easy and quiet. You worked on making omelets while he cooked roasted vegetables with potatoes. They were really tasty, too. You missed having someone to cook with. You enjoyed making meals with people, so the comfortable dance around the kitchen with Cliff had been a breath of fresh air. These days you only got to cook for Sam, Louise, and Heartman, and their visits were few and far between for obvious reasons. You hummed a song as you flipped the omelets. You missed Cliff’s smile, but soon he was humming along too, baritone ringing through your quiet house.

You felt less alone, then. You wished he would stay.

Somehow your morning silence was comfortable and awkward at the same time. The eerie quiet of the early morning did that, sometimes. He thanked you again for letting him stay and you thanked him for helping with breakfast. He’d scoffed at that, saying that was the absolute least he could’ve done - he wasn’t a freeloader.

Then he made a pun about his roast potatoes being “Spudtacular.”

You groaned. Dad jokes!

Afterward, at around ten, you were taking care of your indoor plants while Cliff read some recent history title in your favorite armchair. You were looking forward to seeing Fragile - it had been a few months since her last visit. Tension was still thick between you, and you were pretty sure it would linger until you felt safe. But you were trying, and that’s what's important. Both of you were, delicately avoiding reference to Higgs. It’s worked for the most part, thankfully.

At least if Rami - who still hadn’t been found - caused a Voidout, she and Cliff would be out of implosion distance. That was good. Sam didn’t need any more tragedies. You would’ve been out looking still, but there was no way in hell you were leaving someone alone in your shelter unless it was actively on fire, no matter how much you may or may not have liked them.

You looked over at him then. Talking with him had been difficult, like pulling teeth. Harder than it had been before, when you were on the beach. It was frustrating. You were too nervous to start a real conversation with him, too. He was quiet and closed off, and answered you distantly when you tried, redirecting to jokes instead of real answers. He had shut you out.

You supposed both of you were out of it. He’d been through hell in the past you months, you could tell - the weight lingered on him like useless cargo. And after your nightmare and panic attack that morning, you hadn’t felt like talking much either. Maybe he just didn’t like relying on people, and you shouldn’t take it personally.

It was nice, though, having company. Just his presence was reassuring, conversation or no.

Rocky liked him, too, which was something. He’d been bothering him all day, headbutting his hand to demand pats, and persistently returning to his lap time and again, purring happily. Cliff seemed to like the attention, too, whispering baby talk to him as he purred. It was unbearably cute, seeing him so sweet with the cat, and you had to turn back to your plants before you turned into a puddle of goo. He obviously needed his space. And he was leaving today; there was no use in feeling such a mess over it.

You continued to tend to your African Violets, their fuzzy leaves brushing your fingertips. They weren’t blooming yet, but it looked like they would soon. It would be nice to have a bit of color in the house again.

Cliff caught your attention again soon enough, though, with a sudden, rich laugh - and his smile actually reached his eyes. You were confused for a moment, he was reading a non-fiction book - but then you noticed him looking at Rocky’s name tag like it was the best joke he’s ever heard. Then he looked at you, light in his eyes, and your heart twisted.

Oh boy. Here it comes. This was too embarrassing.

A scarlet blush worked its way up your face.

“You…” he stammered, interrupting himself with a chuckle. “You named your cat Rocket Launcher?”

Yes, you had.

You wanted to die.

“Yeah,” you choked out, fighting your urge to run and hide. His megawatt smile kept you in place, though. Your stomach was doing backflips.

At least he had your sense of humor.

You turned back to your plants to avoid his gaze, face hot with embarrassment. His laugh echoed quietly behind you as he whispered baby talk to said cat named Rocket Launcher. This man would be the death of you, you knew it.

--

Your anxiety had started with unease at eleven-thirty. Then it escalated to worry at noon, then to actual distress by one; you were going to make a wear pattern in your carpet if you kept pacing like you were, but she never missed time. Something had happened.

Fragile hadn’t shown up by three. She was supposed to meet you at eleven.

So you were worried. Like, there’s-no-way-you'll-sleep-tonight, can't-eat, shaking-ball-of-mess worried. You were short with her, but god, you still cared.

You called her at twelve. And at one, and at two.

Her comm didn’t even ring, it went right to voicemail. All three times. Maybe it had just run out of power, you told yourself. And she was busy with an emergency delivery? You hoped it was as benign as that, but you had a sinking feeling that something had gone terribly wrong.

Sam called you at two, asking why you were late. You told him you would call him back if Fragile didn’t show up for a while longer. So, when you called him at three he picked up right away, your fingers tapping against your thigh in a nervous rhythm. His hair was messy and he looked even more tired than he usually did. He was just as worried as you.

“I’ve tried to get through to her, but there’s nothing.” You started, voice unsteady, “You get anything?”

“Nah, no updates since last night.” Sam wasn’t the most expressive of men, but you heard the stress in his voice loud and clear. He had no idea where she was, either.

Your brain was going a million miles an hour, trying to see if there was something you missed, something you could do, someplace Fragile could be where she’s safe. “I’ll call Lockne and Heartman,” You said, hoping someone else would know, “Can you check in with Deadman and the President?”

Sam looked at you like you’d asked him to hike across the US a third time, but he nodded. He was far more likely to get through to Die-Hardman than you were and he knew it, even if Sam was walking on eggshells. He would want to help.

At that point you felt heat on your back. It was Cliff walking up behind you, getting in view of the camera. Most people wouldn’t have been bothered by it, but you moved aside anyway, giving him space. You didn’t like people close to you anymore; it made your gut churn.

Although this time you weren’t sure if it was because you didn’t like people close to you or if it was because you really liked him. So you did the logical thing and ignored it. There were more important things to do than ponder your personal space issues.

--

Cliff was beyond frustrated. How many more things would keep him from Sam? He ran his hand down his face with a heavy sigh. These past eight months had been the longest year of is life. But nothing could stop him, universe be damned. If fate wanted to make his journey hell, then so be it. It was nothing that had stopped him before.

So he decided that if you two hadn’t found your friend by morning, he would have to take that hike through the Rockies, BTs and all. Of course, he would have loved to stay with you, but he knew the longer he did the harder it would be to leave. He’d gotten an amazing night’s sleep for the first time he can remember, and the only meals that weren’t freeze-dried. It would be best if he didn’t linger. He couldn’t get complacent, he should move on as soon as possible. He could rest when he on the other side of the mountains.

He spent his time that afternoon going through possible routes on your map, let you handle things yourself. But then he heard you mention John, who now called himself by his war name, Die-Hardman. It chilled him to his core; the thought of his best friend wearing Bridget Strand’s mask was enough to make him ill. He didn’t blame John for Strand killing him, but to wear her mask? He’d made it clear what was important to him, so Cliff hadn’t bothered him when he was so clearly busy upholding the legacy of a murderer.

So he joined your call with Sam. It was unnerving, these holograms. Sam was so solid, but hundreds of miles away from him still. Like a mirage in a desert. Cliff didn’t even notice you tense up until you stepped aside. He would have to be more careful with you, then, you seemed on edge and he would hate to make you uncomfortable.

He focused on the call, though, conflicted. “Sam, please don’t mention me to John. I don’t know what I would say to him, I’d prefer if he didn’t know I’m… traveling.” He had to stop himself from cringing at himself. Traveling, truly an amazing euphemism for being back from the dead, way to go.

Sam’s brow furrowed just enough to see. His son was quite the stoic, it seemed. “Don’t you think he could help set you up out here? He would come all the way out here himself if you asked. He... “ Sam was uncomfortable for a moment, crossing his arms and looking away from him. “He never really got over losing you. He thinks it was his fault.”

Cliff closed his eyes hard and shoved the guilt deep, deep down. His resolve would crumble if he let himself think too much, and that wouldn’t end well, not then, not while he was still so hurt. “Later, Sam.” He forced passed his teeth. His tone didn’t leave room for argument.

He would sort it out later, surely. He had priorities.

He would talk to John.

Eventually.

When he disconnected the call you were already working on your computer.

You had multiple screens set up, and at least ten programs open. Were you pulling up security cameras? He put his hand on the desk and leaned in to get a better look, careful not to intrude in your personal space too much.

Technology had improved so much during the time he was gone that he could barely tell what you were doing. He knew you were busy, though, so he suppressed the urge to question you about every last detail. He hated not knowing how things worked, especially as someone who used to know tech like the back of his hand. It made him feel all the more out of place than he already did. “What is this? You said you were going to call your friends?”

You nodded absentmindedly, focusing on the screen. “I will call them, after I look for Fragile myself.” You pulled up another program and dragged in a headshot of a blonde woman Cliff assumed was your friend. The software mapped her face and started combing through the video feeds. You busied yourself with some other program while the facial recognition ran.

Cliff tensed - there were Bridges logos plastered in the corners of the videos you’d pulled up. You’d told him you weren’t affiliated. Would you lie to him? What did you want? “How do you have these feeds? Bridges has a strict no-access policy.” He grit out, trying not to sound too high-strung - he didn’t need to make more problems for himself.

“I gave myself access.” You stammered. You sipped your coffee and kept working, not looking back at him. He studied your face, searching for any sign of a lie. He wanted to trust you. But he couldn’t trust the company that killed him and took Sam. You mostly just seemed embarrassed, though, there was no sign of you lying. Just a focused, serious look in your eyes. “They’re bullies,” You continued after a moment, more spite in your voice than he would expect. “They can take their secrets and drown in them for all I care.” Your fingers rapped on the desk as you worked.

He couldn’t say he condoned hacking into confidential servers, but they had shut him out, too, so…

Maybe it was petty, but Bridges’ security being breached by a civilian was hilarious. Good for you.

As you continued working he grew uncomfortable, though - restless. There was a tightness growing in his chest. He knew there was nothing he could do to help you. Nothing short of finding Fragile would. He’s had too many men go missing in action - he was used to the distressed searching, the anticipation, the threads of hope that would keep you searching. But he wasn’t used to being useless. He’d always prided himself in his ability to work through a crisis, so being obsolete was an unwelcome, grating itch on his nerves.

He needed something to do.

He squeezed your shoulder lightly in what he hoped was a comforting manner. You met his gaze with a tense smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Is there anything I can do?” He asked simply, praying you would respond.

You sighed. “Not really, but thank you.” You squeezed his hand softly in response.

Damnit.

That sad and grateful face you made was almost physically painful. It worried him, how quickly he had grown attached to you. But he supposed it was inevitable. You had been there for him on the beach. You had shown him the way home. Following you into the water had been a long-shot, desperate move on his part - but it had worked. He was alive, and had a chance to spend time with his son.

All because you had been a kind stranger when he was lost.

He shoved that deep down inside him, though. Everything was painful these days, even the possibility of friendship. Guilt and pain and apprehension? No, he couldn’t do this now - he would leave in the morning and it would all be irrelevant anyway. He would be a world away from you and it wouldn’t matter how much he enjoyed the company. No use thinking too much about it know.

You went back to work on your computer.

He still didn’t know what to do with himself.

You seemed to notice, though, and took pity on him. “You can get dinner started, if you want.”

His whole body relaxed. He could do that much for you, at least.

He got out some ingredients, and had to look in five different places to find a knife - they were hidden deep inside one of the cabinets, shoved underneath some Tupperware.

He’d barely started chopping the vegetables when you blew past him, frantic, eyes wide and hair messy, and ran outside. You hadn’t even bothered with a raincoat - no one went without one, even with how infrequent timefall was now.

He stood at the doorway for a moment, baffled. But it all became clear when he moved to look at your computer.

Security footage was playing on a loop. One of Bridges’ feeds, out near Capital Knot. It was time-stamped for that morning at 09:42.

At first it looked like any other porter drop-off he’d seen. Fragile dropped off the cargo and began walking to the road.

Just as she was almost out of frame, she froze, body going tense. She tugged something out of her neck with a visible wince. A second later her frame was wracked with tremors, starting in her hands then progressing through to her arms and legs.

She fell.

Her head hit the pavement, and Cliff knew that if the feed had sound, it would’ve made a sickening crack. Fragile lay still.

A tranquilizer dart, hummed the back of his mind.

Blood pooled around her skull.

A white-gloved hand came just into frame to touch her arm - and Fragile disappeared in a flash of black shimmers. The hand retracted.

There was no other sign of the assailant. The feed was empty again.

Cliff ran after you.

--

You tore out of your shelter, not bothering to pull on a suit or Odradek. It was too hot and cramped, you were about to burst, this was all too much. You needed space, you needed to breathe.

Of course as soon as you thought something might finally start to be alright with you two Fragile gets kidnapped! What the hell was wrong with these people? Why did they even care? Why were they taking people?

You blinked away tears as you shambled to your greenhouse.

You needed to hit something.

You rummaged around your pumpkin patch and found the squashiest pumpkin you had. Then you grabbed your shovel from the supply closet. Then you pulled the shovel over your head, and you slammed the shovel into the gourd. The sound you made was inhuman, a hot rush coursing through your veins. You were so angry!

And then you did it again.

It gave a smack-squelch sound and caved in, guts oozing out of the gaping cracks you’d made. Your hands were shaking? You hit it. Your knees wobbling? You hit it. Fet like your heart was ready to burst? You hit it. You hit it again. And again, and again, letting its gross pumpkin guts get all over your clothes. Were you screaming? You weren’t sure if you were screaming or not. You didn’t care. Your friend was gone.

By the time the pumpkin was nothing more than puree you were spent and sweaty and gross, panting and flushed. You didn’t even notice how hard you were crying until you wiped pumpkin seeds from your cheek and it felt all teary.

You… didn’t really feel better either. Just less pissed off and more sad. Empty, like someone had hollowed out your insides and replaced them with cotton.

You heard footsteps on the grass behind you.

Damn it! You didn’t need Cliff seeing you like this! God, how embarrassing. You turned around reluctantly, shoulders slumping and shovel barely in your grasp.

There he was, warm eyes and kind heart.

That was almost enough to get you crying again - you weren’t used to people caring enough to come after you. People out here took care of themselves.

You saw him take in the scene - the destroyed pumpkin, the seeds on your clothes, the tears streaming down your face. He cautiously cracked a smile, after a moment, “If I had known you were making pumpkin pie I would have helped.”

You laughed and burst into tears at the same time, dropping your shovel. That was such a stupid thing to say! He was ridiculous! You covered your face in your hands, mortified but unable to stop crying.

You and Fragile never truly reconciled - you had just ignored your argument altogether and held a tense peace.

You felt like the worst friend on the planet.

And now someone had taken her.

Careful hands rested on your arms, lightly pulling you in. You could have resisted if you wanted to; you could’ve told him to go away, to leave you alone and he would have done it in a heartbeat. But you’d been crying alone for so long.

So you let him pull you close, let him gently wrap his arms around you as you cried. He was warm, and had strong arms, and you cried into his shirt like some damsel in a shitty movie. But you felt safe. “It’ll be alright.” He murmured into your hair. You could feel his voice rumbling in his chest. You clung to the fabric of his shirt like a lifeline. “You’ll find her.”

You knew those were empty platitudes, that neither of you had any idea what the future would bring.

But for now, just for tonight, you would choose to believe him.

A/n:

This chapter is brought to you by the need for therapy. I hope I’m holding the right balance between vague and intriguing with Reader-San’s flashbacks. They won’t feel like going into full detail until much later, so I hope its enough to almost tell what happened, but not quite.Anytime I mention singing you can insert whatever song you want, btw.I would also like to apologize to the Fragile and Higgs stans. This fic isn’t really nice to them and I really am sorry about that, but Fragile’s teleportation is too convenient. How else am I going to get (Y/n) and Cliff to hike across the Rockies, huh?So what do you guys think? I’d really appreciate some feedback, I don’t have a beta so I’m not sure.I hope you enjoyed it!

Edit: Change what Higgs said.

@paanchu786

#death stranding #death stranding x reader #death stranding cliff #cliff unger #mads mikkelsen #chaptered #reader #l'appel du vide