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dragon-fics · 4 months ago

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DnD: Let Them Eat Cake!

Summary: You've just lost it all! Your home, your tea room, your bakery... What are you to do? A little Faerie Dragon may be able to help

Warnings: nope

Relationships: Acorn & Half Elf Reader (friendship)

Characters: Acorn the Faerie Dragon (OC of requester)

Word count: 2,720

Notes: this features the homebrew DnD of the requester, so any locations and characters that are unfamiliar are theirs (Azureman136 on Wattpad)

If you enjoyed this pls reblog and like as my work doesnt meet many ppl and I’m not doing so good financially. It's okay if not tho. links to my AO3, DA, RiTF & Wattpad

(this format is pretty common among writers here so I'm testing it out)

Unkept was one way to put it. Exhausted and scared was another. Things had been tough for the past few days. Maybe I should’ve stayed at home, never bothered moving to a bigger town to make my way…

The dream was over now, though. Crushed and burned and devoured by senseless brutes.

There was nothing left now.

A cool breeze caught my hair, and I had a look around. The bleak road ahead was about to fork; a long, wide path would lead me to a few days' walk to the nearest settlement, Solidus. The other was a winding dirt path leading into a broad forest. The smell of pinecones and rain hit me, bringing my mind to a moment of ease.

Then tug from the west. The breeze had taken a turn for the worst, and the sky grew grey and cold. Best case a shower, worst a thunderstorm.

Behind me, there was nothing. No wagon, no mounted traveller, not even a mouse to scurry on the road. I was all alone, surrounded by dark clouds and green fields.

Any peace that had brought to me was gone, and the dreaded sense of isolation had returned. I pulled my cloak closer to me and sighed sadly.

Then something on my boot.

I looked down, a perfect wet splat on the toe. The heaven’s opened, and the road quickly glistened in a layer of rainwater. The shower wasn’t heavy thankfully, but one pair of clothes was all I had, and that one pair would be a nuisance if it got soaked.

Summoning every bit of willpower I could, I bolted down the dirt trail, puddle-water and mud splashing under my heels. The forest was getting closer, and the branches came into view. They were broad and overlapping with each other to create a perfect canopy. It was rather calming to be under them. The deep drumming of the rain and its smell brought me back to a nicer time and better situation.

I sighed and squeezed out my hair as I gathered myself. This was a nice place, but it was dark and cold. And as the dribble from my hair trickled down my sleeve, my shoulders tingled.

Something was watching me.

And in a forest, something is not what you want watching you.

I spun and glared into the tangle of branched and trunks. Of course I wouldn’t see anything, but I gripped the blade on my belt regardless. Something was there and I wouldn’t allow it to stay there.

There was nothing. No scampering, no scratching, no weird glowing eyes blinking back at me. After a hesitant moment I forced myself to turn away and walk on the path again.

The tingling lingered, hairs on my neck standing on end as I took a new step.

A shuffling came from behind me, from the undergrowth on either side. I tried to grab a glance over my shoulders and was met with the ferns and bushes shifting and trembling. More than a downpour would, if the water was getting to them, but rain had yet to touch the forest floor. I saw something long and green curl up a tree beside me, chilling me to the core.

There was nothing logical in my head, my legs just came alive, bounding down the slick mud path.

“Hey!” called a youthful voice. “Wait!”

My legs burned, but I kept going, rain pouring down my face. With a sting, a droplet wormed its way into my eye, and in a moment if blindness, something constricted around my ankle. I fell face first into the mud with a yelp.

I forced myself over and heaved, spitting mud from my mouth.

A blur of blue landed in front of me, hopping into a puddle, adding more to my wet mess. It had large, angled forms on either side of it.

I wiped the water from my eyes. The blue thing had wings, had four legs and was about the size of a cat. I could also see that their wings weren’t like that of a bird or a dragon, they were like giant butterfly wings, tinted purple. Its limbs had a pink gradient to them, too. It was quite beautiful.

It hopped onto my lap, pink eyes glaring into my soul. “Don’t run from me!” this was the voice that had spoken earlier. It sounded more childlike up front.

I stared at him in my lap, tiny claws digging into my cold skin. “Um… sorry?”

He nodded, planting himself down. “Accepted. I suppose,” he eyed me up and down, sniffing me and flicking out his tongue. “What’s the deal, half-elf? Why are you runnin’?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?!” I was taken aback. “I’m in the middle of the fucking woods and something is watching me and running after me and you expect me to not run?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again slowly. “Fair enough… that was a bad introduction.” He sighed and got off my lap, shaking himself, water spraying from his pink and blue body. “My name is Acorn.”

I nodded slowly, the rain thumping on my body as my heart recovered. “I’m (Y/N).” I looked at him, then at the forest around. “I don’t mean to be rude but—”

“I’ll take you to the village. We’re not far.” He lifted his head and snorted. “Up ya get, (N/N). chop-chop. The rain ain’t stoppin’ soon.” Acorn hopped on the spot.

Putting my hand beneath me, I pushed myself up and wiped down my trousers and hand as best as possible. Mud still seeped through the fabric, though. I sighed, imagining the beauty of a nice, hot shower after this.

As I straightened up, a weight landed on my back. “Let’s get going!” Acorn called over my shoulder, wing extended to shelter my head.

I tucked my head down and trekked my way down the muddy path.

“So, where are you from? I know everyone in these woods, and I do not know you.” Acorn turned his head to look at me, blinking his pink eyes in suspicion.

“I came from a town uh… north-ish of here. I’m headed to Solidus to get back to my parents…” I trailed off. Admitting everything was hard.

“That’s a long trek. You miss them?”

I shrugged, tucking up the collar of my jacket. The answer was no. “I suppose.”

I felt his eyes bear down on me, and I slowly brought my gaze to meet him. “Don’t suppose you’re heading from that village the orcs buried?”

My jaw tensed, seeing the axe effortlessly cut through my door as the drums beat out, shaking my windows, baking trays and fine porcelain.

Acorn tuned his head back to the path ahead. “That was aimless destruction. I’m sorry about that.”

I sighed. “It’s fine. Probably wasn’t a life meant for me.”

Acorn looked at me. “What life?”

I looked at him. “I left the city to become a small tea shop and bakery owner.”

His face lit up, pupils dilating, grin spreading. “Tea?! Bakery?!” his shrieking voice caused me to wince.

I nodded, grimacing. “Yes?”

Acorn flapped his wings, hovering in front of me. “Come on!” he beat his wings excitedly through the rain, following the path.

I ran after him and, after a moment or two, smelled burning wood and heard soft chatter. With the turn of a bend, a village appeared. Clustered rustic buildings were alive in the wet day. Music came from inside inns and pubs, chatter came from sheltered beer gardens out front, and smoke curled up from pretty much every cottage and chimney.

I darted in under a canopy and looked around. The drinkers were far more diverse than I could have imagined. There was a gathering of pixies, faes and satyrs in this one beer garden.

“Sit down, doll. Let me fix ya up something sweet,” a pixie server fluttered over to me and pushed down my shoulder.

I nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.” I slumped down onto a seat behind me, water pitter-patting onto the gravel path.

Acorn hopped up on the table beside me, claws skidding on the sanded wood. “There you are!” He looked around. “Ah! Getting cozy in the inn? That’s a great idea. Then you can get baking again.” He bobbed his head assertively.

I put my bag down—it too was destroyed in mud. “I’m here to get out of the rain. And yes, I’ll get a night or two here in the inn. I need a shower and a nice bed. Baking can wait.”

Acorn launched himself at my chest and stared at me firmly. “It can’t wait! It is of utmost importance that you get baking immediately!” He stomped his paw on the wood as he settled back down. His wings fluttered irritably.

I looked around, confused. “Why are you so despera—hey!”

A blink dog appeared beside me and sniffed my bag. Before I could swat it away, it grabbed a muffin from it and teleported away, my hand missing its wet fur by a centimetre.

Acorn gasped and lunged for my bag. “You have some!” he opened my bag and grabbed my tin of treats. As he tossed it onto the table with a deafening clatter, the beings in the canopy and from inside the inn came to see. Within a moment, various fluttering beings surrounded me, lapping blink dogs and tail-wagging satyrs. I think a few elves appeared in the crowd. Each one of them seemed delighted to see my scones, loaf, muffins and a couple of iced cookies.

Acorn grinned. “Can we have some?”

I hesitated. This was the last of my—

“—We’ll pay! Name your price,” the nearest satyr reached into his purse, red ears twitching excitedly.

Anything would help at this point. “Yes please. Just a couple of coppers for each will be enough.” Steeper than my usual prices. I grabbed a knife and cut slices of the loaf of bread. Before I knew it, everything was gone, and I was left with a stack of copper and a few silvers.

Acorn nibbled at a cookie. “This is incredible!” he growled possessively as a hand dropped an extra copper as a tip, getting a smidge too close to Acorn, apparently.

I giggled and sipped the tea the pixie server had brought to me. I pulled a face as a bitter taste hit my tongue. “Thank you, Acorn.” Looking around, I saw the nearby tables were devouring my baked goods. I was surprised. “Why?”

Acorn looked up from his treat. “Why what?”

I looked at him, grabbing the last cookie. “Why are they all so excited?”

Acorn looked down. “Well, we don’t have a baker in the village. And the one baker that does come through here stays for an hour or two, overprices everything and it’s all bland. Blah!” he stuck out his tongue. “We’re a small artsy village. And what better art than that of baking to add to our town? We have knitters, embroiders, filigree specialists, sculptures who sing wood into what shape they like! But we lack the skills of tastiness! Even you have tasted how bad the tea is. And how can you mess up tea?!”

I tried not to laugh and nodded, forcing my smile to drop. “Sure. I’ll bake for you. But I’ll need a kitchen to myself. I have some tins to bake with. If you have a blacksmith, I might need them to make some more for me.”

Acorn grinned. “Excellent! Don’t worry about cost. And I’ll sort out the kitchen! We’ll handle everything. Do you have ingredients?” he finished his cookie, licking up any crumbs.

I glanced at my sopping back, seeing a layer of—what could only be—thick, wet flour oozing through. “No. Not really.”

“Make a list!” he nodded. He flew over to snatch the waitresses pen and paper and dropped it in front of me. “Tell us what to get and we’ll get it. We have farms. We can probably get it all.”

I nodded. “Okay. if you say so.” I grabbed the pen and made a list, the hot gaze of Acorn watching my hand as I scrawled it.

*~*~*~*

“Wake up, (Y/N)!” Acorn bounced on my chest as sun glared into my eyes.

I groaned and pulled my blanket up over my face. “No…”

Acorn huffed and grabbed the blanket in his mouth and tore it off, taking it with him onto the floor.

I culled up on my side, back to the sunshine.

He trotted around my bed, claws tapping on the wooden boards so I could track him without seeing him behind my hands. He paused by my head and started licking my face.

“Ah! No!” I yelped and backed away, falling out of the bed. I swore and forced myself to my feet.

Acorn hopped onto my bed. “Ha!”

I gave him a dirty look. “Yes. You’ve succeeded. Congratulations.” I sighed and looked at the room, fresh pyjamas on me and body clean. entwined vines and trees body surrounded me. In the corner of the room was a miniature, round bed, made if willow branches and solid birch. This was the upper floor of Acorn’s home, and that was his bed. The home had been carved out of a large-trunked, but short tree, with a thick mass of dark green leaves hanging around it.

It was quite pretty.

Acorn smiled up at me. “So, are you ready to start baking?” his smile spread into a grin.

I drew in a breath and nodded reluctantly. Then stopped. “After breakfast. Baking while hungry is a bad idea.”

He chuckled. “Alright.” He hopped off the bed and glided towards the narrow spiral staircase. “Let’s go! Let’s make munchies!”

I sighed slowly, walking after him as he floated through his home. Everything around me was one with the tree. This home had to have been enchanted or something. It was quite wonderful. His kitchen took up most of his lower floor, lined with cupboards, a working sink, oven, hob and fridge, with an arched door leading out towards the village and brightly lit by the late morning sunlight. On the dark, varnish table was a wide array of baking supplies; flour, eggs, brown and white sugar, butter, oil, milk—you get it.

I barely remembered my journey to Acorn’s house. It was after stopping at the inn, making my list and filling up on a splendid meal and shower. He’d been very insistent that I come with him.

And the same with watching me cook.

I turned, grabbing a pan, bowl, flour, oil, eggs, and milk. No sooner had I put them on the counter, Acorn landed on my back, and I jumped.

“The fuck?!”

He leaned his head over my shoulder, claws digging into my skin and wings spread for balance. He blinked at me. “Watcha makin’?”

“Pan—,” I winced and picked up one of his claws, then the other, “—cakes.”

Acorn’s eye grew wide. “Pancakes!” he beamed, claws sinking in again with excitement.

I nodded slowly. “Yes. So please relax your claws or sit on the counter to watch.” May gaze hardened.

He smiled nervously and repositioned himself, hind legs on my shoulders, front ones on my head and his long neck hovering above.

I looked up to him. “Comfy up there?”

Acorn nodded. “Yes! Now cook!”

I rolled my eyes and made the batter, heating and oiling up the pan. It was a quick recipe and within a few minutes I had two stacks ready to eat—little pancakes for Acorn and average pancakes for me. I served with some berries and carried the plates to the table and sat down.

Acorn hopped off my shoulder and sat beside me, snatching the first one from his pile, berries spilling off, and shoving it in his mouth. His face melted, frill drooping as savoured the light pancakes. As soon as he was done with his mini pancake, he devoured another one.

“I’m so glad you like my cooking.”

In a blink of an eye, his plate was clear. Acorn even went to the effort to lick the plate clean of berry juice. He held up his plate, big begging eyes looking at me.

“May I have some more?”

#dnd #dungeons and dragons #faerie dragon #fantasy #writing #& reader #friendship #baker #not my OC #homebrew dnd #dragon one shot #dragon #request #short story #dragons #ahhhhhhhh #i never know what to tag

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rita-rae-siller · 3 months ago

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It's safe to assume which side won. Enjoy some pre-story AluraxMara bickering. The squabble that started it all.

WIP: The Lies They Tell Genre: Dark Fantasy, LGBTQ+ Fantasy Word Count: 1031

Mara paced back and forth in front of the thick metal bars of the prison cell she was in, looking for any possible way she might be able to climb her way out. It was a crude thing, just a wall of metal bars locking her into the small alcove at the very back of the cave complex. Under normal circumstances, she would have been well on her way out of there, scurrying through the shadows in the form of a rat or a mouse. But the Utapwa renegades that betrayed her had known to take her Eye of Eyre--the obsidian talisman that linked her to her powers. For the very first time in her life, she was trapped.

Completely and inescapably trapped.

With a frustrated growl, she looked up at the small hole in the cave's ceiling. A speck of the night sky shone through, barely letting in enough of the full moon’s light to see by.

The only thing worse was who she was trapped with. Sitting cross-legged and perfectly still in the center of their cage was her sworn enemy, the Garmoran emperor’s Right Hand. A giant beast of a woman, towering almost seven feet tall. Every square inch of her rippled with muscle well beyond what nature would have given her. The Zhariik--her people, the nomadic elves of the Amber Sea--were tall, but they were lithe and slim. Quite the opposite of Alura.

Without her armor, she looked… smaller, in a way. Less intimidating. It was hard to be scared of her when she glowed in the dark. Hundreds of tattooed dots and dashes snaked their way up Alura’s arms. They followed the curve of her cheekbones and jawline on their way down to her chest and legs, even decorated the shaved sides of her head and her neck. Each marking gave off a very faint golden glow, just enough for Mara to see by. She was very familiar with the Garmoran’s blood tattoos, but the amount Alura had bordered on excessive by comparison. So far, she was the only one that she’d ever seen shine like this one.

It was easy to see how the common Garmorans could consider her and the emperor to be akin to gods when they glittered so ridiculously.

Alura, unlike Mara, hadn’t moved a muscle in hours. Patiently, she sat with her eyes closed, like she was waiting for someone to just walk in and rescue her. It baffled Mara to no end how she could be so calm when death was imminent. They were deep behind renegade lines, almost to the southern Market District of Minos. With how the rebellion had been going--badly for Alura, and now also badly for herself and the rest of her fellow Shadows--it was doubtful they would be keeping either of them alive for very much longer. It pained her to think that Uoma and the others may have met similar fates elsewhere.

As a deep scowl pursed her lips, Mara bent down and picked up a small pebble from the cavern floor and threw it in Alura’s direction, hoping to elicit some sort of response. But Alura gave her nothing, not even a flinch. So naturally, Mara did it again, this time bouncing the rock off of Alura’s knee. Still though, she didn’t react. Just as Mara was winding up to throw a third, this time aimed right at Alura’s head, she got a reaction.

“You know not a single one of those men outside would stop me if I got up to wring your tiny little neck, yes?” Alura opened one eye and looked Mara up and down disapprovingly.

Mara scoffed. She felt she was owed the courtesy of more than just one nasty side eye. “They’re going to kill us, you know. We’re done for. Finished.”

“I am not blind to this fact, Sparrow.” There was a harsh finality to her words, and a distinct bitter undertone. “This is the end of the line.”

“You could help get us both out of here. Why can’t you bend the bars enough for me to slip through? I’ve seen how strong you really are.”

“The same reason you can’t turn into a rat and scurry away, Sparrow. My powers have limits,” Alura replied. “Silence. Your chattering is giving me a headache.”

“No one is coming for you, Goldie. No one is coming for either of us. If we don’t try to save ourselves, we will die here.”

“I feel no need to waste valuable energy pacing like a caged animal. Is the infamous--”Alura put a heavy, unnecessary emphasis on the word “--Black Sparrow scared to meet her maker?”

“I’m not the one giving up!” Mara bit back with a snarl. Her words stung, delivered with a patronizing tone that made Mara want to throttle her right then and there. Even if her bones were broken and her blood spilled freely, she would fight and claw her way out or die trying. Not for a second did she believe that today was her day to walk with the Crone. It just wasn’t possible. “Why won’t you fight? Where is your sense of honor?”

“Honor? Do you believe that either of us actually has even a shred of honor?” Alura’s blank mask finally cracked. There was a harsh bite to her words. She opened her eyes to glare at Matilde again, venomous and seething. “Maybe for you there is another day waiting for you if you get out. But I can’t face Dioclaetus after this. I’ve been disgraced, thanks to you.”

“You’re overreacting,” Mara scoffed. “You’re the emperor’s golden child--pun very much intended. It’s not like he’ll kill you for this. You’re the only reason his empire is still standing as far as everyone everywhere is concerned. These people think you’re a living god.”

Alura averted her gaze as her glare withered into a look of despair. Mara’s stomach twisted. She bit the inside of her cheek as a heavy silence hung in the air between them. Surely that look didn’t mean what Mara thought it meant. But the longer the pause grew, and as Alura’s shoulders began to tremble, the answer became clear.

She was serious.

Wip Masterpost

the age old struggle to decide whether to indulge the part of my brain that wants to write pre-story lore or the part that actually wants to get on with draft 2....

#writeblr #writeblr community #writers of tumblr #writing community #writer community #creative writing #original writing #lgbt writers #fiction writing #writing #lgbt fiction #writerscommunity #dark fantasy novel #dark fantasy #writer #my writing #writer stuff #the lies they tell wip

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thoughtsby · 2 years ago

Text

You Belie

The respect you chase

When You Be Lie

U-Me vs

with a quickness lose face

Mocking our Us

No surprise no more grace

We both had a pass

And for you i lit up the town

While you lied on the daily

About fuckin these clowns

Goddamn. That's her dad

There go Marcus' face

beLie five more times

All the trust

zero trace

Her choices all seem

Not stacked with tens, but fives

She doesn't quite feel

That we're both still alive

Fuckin stall?

Zero game

Minor league

Zero shame

In and out like a boy

7 minutes he came

Whatchou gonna do with the next 53?

Good question

Like clockwork, she starts looking for me

Bout to call me daddy

But i get a b p

Not the oil, not the dad

Poems talking bout me

But just as I feared

She's shifts all of the blame

into three higher gears

Buying time I suppose

Till her fiction appears

Dodging again

The ironic-est twist

Of detail left out

Adding bitch to my list

For each one of my calls

The others have six

They're omissions not lies

She doesn't think much

Again she dons the guise, disrespecting

The man that I am

She won't even try

Tho my back is up straight

And my head is held high

Realizing too late

That she drowned me with lies

So many days

i put your needs before mine

Your complacency framing

My low self esteem

Once secure in its place

I forgot I was dope

Till all of your friends

Reached out to help cope

And as good as that feels,

You'll need to arm yourself

Rip off your pants,

imma fuck your sister,

your mom

And even your aunts.

So get your ducks in a row,

And name the lead Plot

Jump them over the holes

Omissions and Nots

The thing I need most

Is to back me up G

Forget about He

Cuz it's all about me,

No way you don't see

The lie to yourself

Pussy on notice

And false perceived wealth,

That i never meant much

A year or three late

it was really just you

Spreading lies and the hate

Set flame to our pattern

Did I rank below Lou?

Or noch, Mike, and Josh?

It was more than a few

Fake stay in your lane

Inflict maximum pain

Scurry home to the desert

Prognosis the same

So fuckin lame

Wasting time

playing games

You throw us away

Every day that you say

Secrets no more

Now you're basically gay?

Except that's a lie,

Finger banged by some guy

Or bareback five strangers

Let concern for me fly

My safety, my health, my kids,

You don't try

But I see you now

I see through your guise

And I'm wanting to grow

Tho call me your man

While he's sharing your sheets

In the fire from pan

Come crying to me

From a 9 to a 2

Motherfucker he can't conjugate

No one's sorry for you

-----

If i follow again,

You're the last of your kind

Fit Benny on doubt

Cuz I'm outta my mind

And partially blind

The advantage got taken

Am I a sucker?

Or kind?

Just spread super thin

So confused

Where you been?

You'll live in my house

Buy some clothes,

Buy some shoes

Buy a phone

With fuck yous

All neatly included for free

At no cost

If you ignore the few months

I was totally lost

I'm a man not a mouse

I brought you here, sure,

But your logic is flawed

Nobody keeps a ride score

But If they did and saw you

They'd say you were trash,

And I'd correct them

For you.

But they're right, in fact

When you act like you do

So no crutch for me

I wrote this poem for you

Like warm sidewalk gum that'll stick to your shoe

Turn your black

Into blue

Till you find someone new

And by lunch there's no doubt

You'll have at least two,

Command no respect

Till my unseen support

Sends a pattern in short

While your 4 outta 10 starts to court

I'm sick to my stomach

Once again you're a ghost

Walking with trash

Strange gets all your most

You'll tell a few lies

Maybe work in a toast

At my expense sure

You'll have your own roast

So...

Fresh after your mention

Of your elsewhere-dick-session

I'm a glutton you'll find

For stories that kill

This one is the Besst

But I've had just my fill

I won't even know

Seed dried on your chest

You'll kiss me so hard

And say I'm the best

You'll grab a fresh shard

And in caves my chest

But when i find out,

And I always do, Boo

Cuz all of your friends

Like me better than you

Well... shit,

I just might

Turn the tide

In one night

Hit em all

With one ball

Say goodbye

And don't call

Have you wondering out loud

How YOU had the gall

Your loyalty

Matched

stature

Impossibly small

#me #lame #callmeashley #deceit #trust #maturity

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i-cant-sing · 3 years ago

Text

Yandere RE8:TRP part 3

Part 1 is here.

Part 2 is here.

Part 4 is here.

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Wings.

She had wings.

And not just two, maybe 6. And they were big too.

What do you even call someone with wings?

You asked yourself as you walked through the woods, the snow crunching beneath your feet satisfyingly. One eye forwards towards the factory, and one eye behind, checking to see if she sent those lycans after you.

Human with wings. Tinker Bell? Yeah, Miranda was no fairy.

You pulled the coat tighter around you, suppressing a groan as you felt pain in your gut. She landed some strong hits on you.

Human + Wings + Strength = Angel?

You stopped, scoffing at the thought. Yeah, she was definitely not an angel. You continued walking, the factory was just a couple of minutes away.

Crow bitch. That's what she is, a crow bitch. Wonder if there's a myth about them.

"Crow bitch." You muttered, chuckling to yourself. What was I even thinking? After walking for almost an hour, you had finally reached the factory. It was big and old, and definitely looked deserted too. The sun was setting and it was getting colder by the minute. You hoped they had some sort of fire source inside, or that you would find your dad in there. Alive.

You took out your gun, loading it again before taking a deep breath and walking to the entrance of the factory.

God, if you love me, please don't let there be any lycans in there.

You held your breath as you walked inside. Eyes wide as you looked around for trouble. The factory was dimly illuminated, adding on to the creepiness of the place. There was abandoned and broken machines everywhere, some oil spills and a lot of seepage. You searched each and every room on the ground floor, eyes peeled for any sign of movement. Then after clearing the ground floor, you had to decide whether you were going to go to the basement, or up the stairs to the first floor.

You looked towards the basement. It had a big metal door, that looked quite thick and sturdy, but there was something off about it and an ominous feeling washed over you like a giant wave. Without much hesitation, you turned towards the first floor, the door looking old and rusty, giving off eerie vibes, but it was certainly better than whatever the hell was in the basement.

Pistol in your hand, you nudged the door open with your foot, peeking in first before stepping in. The first floor had more broken down machinery, scraps of equipments lying here and there. But none of these things bothered you as much as the awful smell there. The deeper you went, the more foul the smell got, and somehow, it was getting even more dark in there.

There were some rooms on the left side, big and spacious but very dark. The few bulbs that were working there were not enough to illuminate the rooms and you did not want to go in there.

Suddenly, you heard something move. It came from behind one of the metal machines, its wires out of place. You aimed your gun, hearing the voices getting louder and louder, it was like something was moving around and breathing heavily.

You stopped walking and waited for whoever is behind there to come out. If its a lycan, then its definitely better to stay back and shoot from a distance than be in with its reach and allow it to attack you.

You stilled your breath as the sound got louder, it was getting near, just one more step-

You gasped when it jumped out.

It was a fat little mouse.

Little bastard stared at you for a few seconds, as if it knew it spooked you, before it scurried off to one of the rooms. Great.

You wiped the sweat off your brow, lowering the gun as you turned to leave.

There was nothing on the first floor, or on the ground, and probably nothing in the basement either.

Where did dad go? Did he even come here in the first place?

A chill suddenly ran down your spine, making you freeze. You felt eyes on you, from your right side. You held your gun tightly, slowly turning your head and looking into the room, the same one where the rat had ran off into. You could hear the rat, it was still scampering around, but there was someone else in there too. Someone who was staring at you.

And then you heard rat yelp and it started making frantic sounds, like it was struggling. This continued on for a few seconds before you heard the rodent screech and the sound of bones crunching.

Then you heard it. The heavy footsteps. And the groans.

You felt like you were in a horror film, as you saw the... thing slowly reveal itself from the shadows. Your heart dropped as you took in its appearance.

It was a man- not Ethan, it was a man with one big suture across its bare chest and something- some red glowing object was fitted in the center of its chest, where his heart should be. Something like Ironman had. His eyes were covered by some sort of contraption, his head was lolling to the side, like he wasn't in control. His entire body was pale, but there was a lot of blood on his chest but that wasn't the part that scared you the most. No, it was the giant drill that was attached to its right arm- WHERE ITS RIGHT ARM SHOULD'VE BEEN!

You did not move a single muscle, not even when the man groaned, its mouth hanging wide open- like he was in pain, thinking that perhaps he couldn't see you like the lycans.

His eyes are covered, so maybe he hasn't noticed you.

Maybe- maybe if I just stay still, he'd go back inside and then I can quietly get out of here.

But what you failed to consider was... that there may be more of him. Because of the loud moans from the man in front of you attracted others, you heard someone else walk, and then another pair of heavy footsteps. You looked towards the other rooms, and you went pale as you saw 5 of these guys in total.

Each had one or two drills lodged in the area where their arms should've been, their chests having the same red glowing object in the thoracic cavity. 3 had their eyes covered with the metal contraption, while the other 2 were looking dead straight at you, their eyes white, but you couldn't tell whether they looked angry or in pain.

For a few minutes, no one moved.

So, maybe they can't see me-

The one in the middle suddenly screamed.

Nope, they can definitely see and they are definitely angry at you. You started running as all 5 of them began charging at you. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you jumped over a desk, not even turning your head when you heard them throw the desk against the wall.

You were so close, so close to the door when you tripped on a pair of wires. You immediately flipped on your back, backing away as the monsters ran towards you. Luckily, you remembered you had a gun, and you quickly aimed and shot 4 bullets, 3 at the one with two drills, killing him, and 1 bullet at the guy you first saw, knocking him down. It gave you enough time to scramble back on your feet and slip out of the door of the first floor.

You were jumping multiple steps down the stairs when you heard their angry screams and the door being broken down. In a hurry, you rushed towards the basement door, pulling it open with great effort. You heard them stumble down the stairs, and you stepped in to the basement, quickly pushing the heavy door close.

Come on! Come on, shut the door!

The guy with one drill almost managed to get you, when you pushed the door close in his face.

You jerked away from the door when you heard their drills clang against the metal, their frustrated yells frightening you. Then you heard the drilling sound.

Shit.

You gulped, staring at the metal door.

Don't panic- do not panic, Y/n. The metal is thick, it should take them a while to get through, give me enough time to get the heck outta here. Look for an exit, a window or door, anything.

With a nod, you turned around, only to be met with a man, a wicked grin on his face as he tips his hat at you.

"Hey, doll. I've been waiting for you."

You quickly aimed your gun at him.

"Who the hell are you?!"

He tutted. "What good would an empty gun do you?" You looked at him confused. "Empty? This is a fully loaded gun-" You were cut off by the sound of your bullets falling to the ground from the man's hand. You pulled out your mag, it was empty, as were the bullets in your coat.

"H-how did you-" He waved you off. "The how doesn't matter. What matters is why an outsider is here with a gun she doesn't know how to use?"

You looked behind at the door, worried as the drilling got louder. "You better tell me fast if you want to get out of there."

You bit your lip, contemplating your choices- there were none as long as the man stood in front of you with a smug grin. Taking a deep breath, you answered "I'm looking for my father, Ethan Winters. We were in an accident-" but the guy cut you off with his laughter.

"Wait, you're also Winter's kid?" He paused before laughing again. "Why do I keep stumbling into the troublesome lot of you, hm?"

"Wait, dad was here? Was he okay?! Where'd he go?!" You walked closer towards him while he was busy laughing himself off.

"Oh god, you sound just like him! He was here a couple of hours ago, asking about his daughter's whereabouts-" Dad was asking about me? "He was all twitchy, screaming around "Rose! Rose, where are you?" as if the baby would answer him. Dumbass."

Rose. Rose and Ethan are both here. Miranda said so, and so did this guy.

"Well, this was fun but play times over." Suddenly, a metal beam came flying towards you, throwing you against the wall and keeping you there. "What the fuck-" He began pacing back and forth, a finger tapping his chin as he tried to appear in deep thought. "Now, I wonder what I should do with you. Should I kill you? Should I keep you as a bait for your father, since he didn't want to help me? Or should I take you to Miranda? She might feel a little better ever since she was attacked in the woods. Wonder how bad the other guy ended up."

Miranda?

"Miranda? You know that crow bitch?!" He stopped pacing. "Crow bitch? What the hell are you talking about? How do you know her?"

You smirked. "Why? Was she your girlfriend?" You felt the beam press against you tighter, making it hard for you to breathe. "How are you doing this-"

"How do you know Miranda?"

You rolled your eyes. "I met her an hour ago in the woods before I came here. I shot that crow looking bitch. That maniac kept screeching about Rose being her daughter-" Again, you were interrupted by the man's laughter, slapping his thigh as he tried to compose himself.

Finally he stopped, lifting his shades to wipe his eyes. "So- so you're telling me, you were the idiot that shot at Miranda in the woods?" You hesitantly nodded. He chuckled again, but your focus turned away from him the moment you heard the door being busted down, the drill hybrids about to charge but they suddenly halted when the man told them to stop. "Halt! Go back upstairs. I'll handle this one." and without another word, the monsters went back up the stairs, disappearing from your view.

"What- how did you control them? What are those things?"

He hummed. "They are my... little projects. Don't worry about them. I have more important things to ask you. Ah, first let me get this off you. It must be uncomfortable." And with a wave of his hand, you fell down as the beam moved away from you, settling back against the wall. He grabbed your shoulder, pulling you up and waved a hand as a chair suddenly slid across the room towards the two of you. He pushed you in it, before standing in front of you.

"Now that you've seen what I can do, you tell me from the start how you came into this village and how you met Miranda. Don't miss any details, I'll know."

You looked to the side towards the stairs, and you knew if you didn't answer, he's gonna call them back. So, with a sigh, you started.

"I really don't understand what so funny about all of this." You scowled, crossing your arms at the man, Heisenberg as he said. The man was having a hard time breathing, his face was red from his guffawing.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry- hah, its just funny to me that Miranda who presents herself as this strong deity, was shot down by a little girl."

"I'm not a little girl!"

He chuckled. "My bad, I'm sorry. But did you really spit blood on her and then tried to shoot her point blank?" You nodded, brows furrowing as he went into another fit of laughter. "My my! You really are a Winter! You lot keep getting away with doing stupid shit."

You stood up suddenly. "Look, I've answered your questions. Now answer mine. Where are Ethan and Rose?"

Heisenberg looked at you for a few seconds before smiling. "They're both still in the village, I don't know where, but-" he walked towards you. "But I can help you find them."

You quirked an eyebrow at him, staring him up and down. "Oh really? And what do you want in return?"

Heisenberg smirked. "Perhaps you're not that stupid." You rolled your eyes. "Well, if I help you find Ethan and Rose, you convince your father to join me to defeat Miranda."

"Defeat Miranda? I thought she was your ally."

"She is, but she did something terrible to me and the other lords. And I want revenge."

"Lords?"

He nodded. "4 lords control this village. Dimitrescu, Beneviento, Moreau and me. Miranda kidnapped us when we were kids, experimented on us and we became these... mutants? Or monsters, with powers. Take me for example, I can manipulate metal."

"Why not ask the other lords to help you if they have powers?"

Heisenberg let out an annoyed sigh. "They are under the illusion that Miranda and we are a family, and that she cares about us." He paused before he angrily continued. "That bitch does not care about anyone but herself. All she wants is her daughter."

You nodded. "Yeah, but why does she want Rose then?"

"Rose is... she is a vessel, Y/n. She is not a normal child. What Miranda is going to do is that she'll use Rose to bring back her real daughter, Eva. Eva will live in Rose."

What the fuck?

You ran a shaky hand through your hair. "Assuming what you said is true, you said you need my father? Why do you need him? And wasn't he here before a couple of hours ago?"

Heisenberg nodded. "He was here. Miranda is using your dad to kill all the lords one by one, so that he is her sole enforcer. When he came by earlier, I tried to convince him to join sides with me..."

"But he refused?" He nodded again. "He refused, saying that he doesn't want to use his daughter to against Miranda, something about not wanting to risk her life." He chuckled. "That idiot doesn't know that she is far more powerful than he is."

"What do you mean "powerful"? She is a baby."

"Like I said before, she isn't normal. Your sister... she isn't entirely human. She has something inside her that makes her have these powers. And once Miranda completes her ritual, she'll be even stronger than before." Heisenberg looked at you seriously. "Look, I've told you everything I know. Now tell me, do we have a deal?"

You looked at him, trying to see if he's trying to pull a fast one.

You don't get what he's saying about Rose not being normal or something. But if what he's saying is true, then Rose is in danger and you have no trouble believing Miranda is a psychopath who'll slaughter your sister to get her daughter.

You don't have time to waste.

"Fine. We have a deal. Now tell me where they are." Heisenberg clapped his hands before pulling out a map from his jacket. "I knew you were smarter than your father. Now, here's the map. Your dad is looking around for Rose, so he's definitely going to be with one of the lords. Check out house Beneviento, Dimitrescu castle and the reservoir where Moreau lives. You'll find Ethan and Rose in one of these places."

You nodded. "Okay, thanks." You folded the map, before shoving it in your coat pocket. "Now, how do I defeat the lords?"

Heisenberg looked at you before laughing. "Oh, you can't be serious. You don't. If you encounter anyone of them, you turn the other way and run like hell. Avoid them at all costs-"

"And if I can't avoid them?"

He clicked his tongue, studying your hard set face. "Well, then you use your friend here." He pointed at your gun. "Though, it'd be better to get a bigger gun. With more rounds. A whole lot of ammo." He returned your bullets to you. You nodded at him before turning to leave.

"Try to practice your shooting skills on the lycans. You're doing okay, but you need to do a lot better if you want to stand a chance against the lords."

"Thanks."

"Oh and Winters?" You looked at him over your shoulder.

"Don't die. We have a crow bitch to defeat."

"I'll try."

It was night by the time you got out of the factory. The moonlight being the only source of light, and even that didn't help much as you could barely see more than 5 feet in front of you. It was getting colder too and you knew your nose was turning red.

You continued to walk in the snow, following the map towards the castle that used to be visible in the daylight, but was now completely engulfed by the dark.

Why did dad refuse to help Heisenberg?

You get that he didn't want to use Rose like that or risk her life, but he could've lied and agreed anyway. That way he'd find her faster and then all of you could return home.

Its not that hard to lie, dad.

You met Duke on the way.

You bought more guns and ammo from him, (and on his recommendation, some bandages and a magical healing potion) using spare parts and an antique you stole from the factory on your way out.

Duke was also nice enough to give you an energy bar and a scarf with your purchase. Something about loyal customer perks.

You guessed it was 12 am by the time you reached your destination. Almost a 2 hour walk from the factory, only to come to a house, instead of the castle you had seen during the day.

You walked through the gate, but instead of walking through the door this time, you opted to go through the windows.

You don't trust Heisenberg. For all you know, he may have alerted the lords about you and they may be ready to kill you. But you doubted that theory, since he had many chances to kill you at the factory.

The window opened with a little budge, and when you moved the curtains out of the way, you were surprised to see the house was well lit, even at this hour.

You creeped in slowly, gun in hand as you took in the old and almost victorian interior of the house. The place looked well maintained and cleaned, which meant it was inhabited by someone and that made you only more alert of your surroundings.

After clearing up the ground floor, you went up the first floor, mostly because you wanted to take a closer look at the large portrait.

It was a pretty lady, with black hair, holding a doll, a creepy one, but it was still nice.

Fortunately, you didn't encounter any monsters this time when you went to the first floor.

Finally, you decided to go down to the basement. Perhaps it was the polished wooden door, or maybe it was that the stairs didn't creak, but you didn't get that ominous feeling like you did from Heisenberg's basement.

Heisenberg. What did he mean by Miranda kidnapping him and the lords? Did she really...experiment on them?

You looked at the door before opening it slowly. Stepping in, you saw the room was large with good lighting- which meant that someone had to be down there. There was another door to your left, you entered it and it led you down a hallway, and there was another door.

Gun steady in your hand, you opened the door, only to find a room with a desk in one corner and a shelf in the other corner. The room was illuminated by a chandelier, which you thought was a bit weird. The desk had some papers splayed on it, so you walked in, thinking you could maybe find some clue as to your dad's and sister's whereabouts.

The moment you stepped in, you instantly felt eyes on you. You whipped around, only to find the hallway empty. You looked around the room and thats when you saw it. The doll, from the painting. She was sitting on the top of the shelf, her face turned in your direction. You smiled and waved at the doll. So that's why you felt like someone was watching you.

With a shake of your head, you turned towards the desk, picking up one of the papers. You were reading its contents when the door suddenly slammed shut, making you jump. You rushed to the door, trying to yank it open but to no avail.

Then suddenly the lights went out, darkness completely enveloping the room.

No. No this was not-

"No, no, no! This is not fucking happening!" You backed up against a wall, hands flat against it as you tried to make sense of what was happening, but that was hard as you began hyperventilating.

Why now? Why was this happening now?

You slid down against the wall, as you felt yourself trouble breathing.

Y/n! Y/n, calm the fuck down- you're not a kid anymore. You're not at home, you are not at home.

Shit.

Tears slowly slipped out of your eyes.

I am not at home. This is not my home. Mom's dead, Rose is missing and dad is looking for her and I'm stuck here. He's gonna leave without me-

You could feel your throat closing up. The dark room seemed to work like a black screen as memories started playing.

Memories of your parents, of them ignoring you.

Memories of Mia burning you with an iron.

Memories of when she used to lock you in the basement-

"Stop it." You told yourself. "Stop thinking about it!"

But you couldn't. It was like your mind had strapped you down to a chair and forced you to replay your life.

Why were you reacting like this?

You sobbed as you recalled the day Mia first locked you in the basement. You don't know what you did to piss her off, but she locked you in there for an hour in the dark. Then again, 3 days later. And again, and again, and again, until you had grown up enough to sneak out whenever she became mad.

You can't remember what you were more afraid of; the darkness or being forgotten. Mia could've locked you inside with a light on, but no, she didn't want the electricity bill to go up while she was out of the house. And the fear of being forgotten only came when she left you down there for a whole night. You wondered why Ethan didn't come looking for you. He probably wasn't home. Yeah.

I'm not afraid of the dark- I just fucking walked through the night, alone. Stop this-

But your brain was on autopilot and it continued to play the memories.

You were fine as long as you had Angel. Angel was your stuffed doll, it randomly appeared on your doorstep on your 7th birthday. You don't know who gave it, but you believed God had sent an angel to give it to you, hence, the name. It was a soft and fluffy doll, with a pink hat covering its brown braids, and a matching pink dress. It had become your comfort item whenever Mia would lock you in the basement- you would always keep Angel down there instead of your room. In the shadows, you always managed to convince yourself that as long as you had Angel, you were not alone down there. That she would help you get out of there.

The doll. You suddenly realised. The doll from the painting! It was still in the room!

Scrambling to your feet, you began feeling around for the shelf. When you found it, your hands searched it for the doll, knocking a few books in the process. When you finally found the plastic figure, you pulled it and clutched it to your chest, taking deep breaths.

"Angel's here. She's here and I will get out of here. I will get out of here. Calm down. Calm down, now." You assured yourself, rocking yourself back and forth as you held the doll to your chest like your life depended on it, while your brain recalled the day you thought you had forgotten.

One day, Mia caught you clutching the doll in your sleep in the basement, and she just became so angry out of nowhere. She snatched the doll out of your arms, and the first thing you saw as soon as you woke up was your mother ripping your doll's head from its body. She then took the doll's remains and threw it out while you were still locked in the basement.

You screamed and banged on the door all day long, begging her to let you out, crying to give Angel back. But she didn't. She left you there for another 8 hours and when she finally opened the door, she realised she had broke something in you. With the way you just stared off into space, your eyes glazed as you didn't say anything on your way out. You... scared her. That's why Mia never locked you in the basement again, and fortunately, you returned back to normal after 2 weeks. Well, almost normal. You changed a bit- you stopped bothering her, stopped calling her mom, stopped asking for help, just didn't talk to her unless absolutely necessary.

You supposed it was that day you realised you couldn't rely on Mia for anything, that she would never help you, never love you, so you just stopped coming to her. And Ethan wasn't home a lot, so you really only had yourself. You were the only onr who could help yourself.

The only who could save yourself.

You played with doll's dress, finally calming yourself down.

"Crying won't do much." You mumbled. "So think of a way to get out of here."

Shooting at the door was not an option, because you don't want to alert whoever locked you in, and you don't know what kind of powers they have or if there's a whole army of lycans waiting outside. And with limited ammo, you can't afford to waste bullets.

You continued playing with the dress, rubbing the material between your fingers as you tried to come up with a solution.

Think, Y/n, think- "Ah!" You hissed as you felt something prick your hand. You touched the object again, more carefully this time, and you realised it was a safety pin, sticking out from the doll's veil maybe.

You pulled the pin out, feeling it in your hands. You have never picked a lock but you remember seeing a video on YouTube a year ago- just 2am internet surfing.

There's a first time for everything.

With a deep breath, you stood up, one hand against the wall as you tried to navigate in the dark, the other hand holding the doll. Once you found the door, you sat on your knees and set the doll on the floor.

"Lets get out of here, Angel."

You felt around for the door knob and when you finally located the lock, you picked up the pin. The video said to remove the top latch thingy, so you broke it off with your teeth, careful not to prick yourself. Once you removed that, you bend the pin into a U shape and placed it in the lock. You wiped your sweaty hands on your clothes before pushing the pin in, turning it.

"Slow and steady. Slow and... steady." You held your breath, you could feel the lock turning but something was stopping it. If you applied anymore force, the pin would break and block the door. You thought for a minute before pressing your weight against the door, and turning the lock again.

And then you heard it. The click.

You yanked the door open and the light from the hallway flooded in to the room, and you took a deep breath in. Fortunately, no one was standing outside and you didn't have to start blasting your gun. Yet.

Picking up your gun, you walked out of the room. But you ran back in, and picked up the doll.

Making your way back upstairs and out of the basement, you sighed to yourself. The house still looked empty, but you were still on high alert. Dad and Rose weren't here, so you need to leave this place before someone finds you.

You looked out the window, and you saw the sun was coming up.

How long was I down there?

You shook your head. Whatever. It's time to get out of here.

You set the doll on a chair in the corner, smiling at it as you fixed its veil. "Thank you for the help, Angel. Or whatever your name is. Spook someone else, okay?" You patted its head, giggling.

You turned around to leave, only to see someone standing on the stairs.

A woman in a black veil.

Fuck.

Oh this took 3 days. So, thoughts?

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naturesapphic · 3 years ago

Text

Request by: @erodabucky

hi! maybe a mommy!nat fic where someone pulls a prank on little!reader with a halloween costume or mask or something and she gets really scared and mommy!nat comforts and rocks them and then little!reader wants to scare them back so mommy helps her.

“Mommy will protect you”

Mommy!nat x little!reader

Warnings: age regression

Tony and sam were planning to scare you while you were in your headspace. Yes everyone in the compound knows about your little space and they fully support/love you.

Earlier today you wanted to watch a scary movie with the team but everyone said you didn’t need to watch it while you were so innocent and vulnerable. But Sam and tony of course wanted you to watch it. Why? I have no idea.

So here you are on the floor, watching a Mickey Mouse Halloween episode that mommy turned on for you. You were smiling/giggling as you watched it, you didnt even notice two men walking in the living room while they were wearing clown masks on because they know you are terrified of clowns.

Sam and tony slowly went behind you and grabbed your shoulders making you look behind you. You screamed bloody murder and curled up into a ball. Nats ears perked up at the sound of someone screaming, immediately she knew it was her little baby and she instantly sprinted towards your cries. Whoever or whatever made you cry isn’t gonna be alive that much longer.

Sam and tony took of their masks trying to calm you down but it wasn’t working. You just wanted your mommy and you couldn’t stop shaking and crying. Nat went into the living room and found you curled up into a ball on the floor crying/shaking. She looked at tony and Sam with a evil look in her eyes that if you looked into them, you would be dead on the floor. She started making fists with her hands, as she was glad you couldn’t see her because you would get even more upset if you saw what she was about to do to your uncles.

She first round house kicked Sam square in the face and jumped on Tony’s shoulders and gave him her famous thigh wrapping around their neck move. She growled at them while she puts them both into head locks and spoke in a low/dangerous voice “if you scare my precious babygirl again, I will personally torture you until I don’t care how much you scream or cry, I will not stop until I’m satisfied.” She threw them down on the ground and they scurried away terrified for their lives.

Nat immediately rushed to you and gently picked you up in her strong but comforting arms. She shushed you quietly and held her close to her chest as she started to rock you gently. You sniffled and looked up at her with your big, glossy eyes. “M-mommy…uncle t-tony and u-uncle Sam s-scared me…” you sniffled and wiped your eyes. She cooed at you softly “I know my little dove…I took care of them…but I think we should prank them back. What do you say little one?” You grinned up excitedly at her and nodded your head up and down furiously.

The next day

You and nat were finishing up the final touches of the prank you were doing on your uncles to get them back for scaring you. Mommy decided to put a bunch of tarantulas in their rooms. She smirked as she finished and she picked me up and put me on her hip. I waved bye bye to the spiders as we left out of sams room. Me and mommy went to the living room, she put on some my little pony as she held me close to her chest as I sat on her lap.

As we were watching the show, we heard girlish screams coming from the top floor of the compound. Nat smirked and looked down at you. “Seems like uncle Tony and Uncle Sam got their present little one” you giggled at what she said and laid your head back on her chest. “Don’t worry babygirl, mommys got you”.

A/n: I have one more Halloween one and then I will be posting other stories and last I will do some alcina x reader :)

#submission #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #mommy natasha #mommy nat #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff fanfiction #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff imagines #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x little!reader

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years ago

Text

"Words Fail" *Chapter 18*

Chapter 17

I can already hear it, and I know, okay? I'm sorry. I know it's been a while, and now you get a short chapter. I'm SORRY. But I really need all of the next action to happen in one chapter, it works better that way! And it's been the holidays, so I haven't been able to write as much, and... it's just a lot, okay?! Okay.

I swear the next one will come out SOON, to make up for this travesty.

Tag List:

@agentcable

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

@thatesqcrush

@shittanyy

@mrsrafaelbarba

@word-scribbless

@storiesofsvu

@believinghurts

@katieslotherford

------

Outside Your Room

Rafael slowly opened the door to reveal everyone still in their same places.

“Well, that was faster than I even thought,” Cassie turned to face the two of you with a smirk.

“We weren’t exactly in the mood,” You muttered.

“Right,” She snickered. “Well sis-- HEY, what do you think you're doing there, hombre?”

Rafael stopped in his tracks. She had noticed he was quickly walking back towards the group, hoping to shoot her in the back while she was negging you.

“I figured you wouldn’t want me near her anymore...” He tried thinking of a legitimate excuse for him just immediately abandoning the love of his life after having just made love with her.

“Jesus Y/N are you that bad? He’s already running away,” Cassie guffawed once more, turning to face you.

Rafael quickly darted back across the room like a mouse trying not to get hit with a broom. Cassie noticed the quick scurrying noises and turned to catch a glimpse of something behind Rafael’s back.

“Cassie!” You tried to distract her while Rafael attempted to slide the gun to Olivia, but to no avail. It slid across the floor and hit the heel of Cassie’s shoe.

Nobody moved, nobody even breathed as they watched in horror at Cassie bending down slowly and picking up the gun.

“Ohhhhh, I see--” She chuckled evilly as she picked it up. “Trying to be the hero, huh sis?”

“Cassie…” Your voice quivered, the panic in you quickly rising to a point you’d never had before. You had never been this scared in your entire life, and it wasn’t even for yourself.

“You REALLY think you’re getting out of here alive?” She laughed. “You really think I’m that stupid? That daddy’s that stupid?”

“What?” You tried to laugh nonchalantly, but your nerves were too shot to sell it. “No! I--”

“Was this in your room?” Cassie cut you off as the wheels began turning in her head.

“Is that the reason you wanted so desperately to get in there? Not because you had actual feelings of remorse and sentiment, just another fucking trick to try and best me? AGAIN?!” She gestured with the gun in her hands while she spoke.

“Big mistake,” She didn’t wait for your answer to keep talking. She aimed the gun at you and pulled the trigger.

You waited for another pop, another boom. You anticipated the hurt, possibly the final pain of dying. But nothing happened. You opened your eyes to see Cassie looking at you with pure amusement.

“Oh my god, Y/N,” She couldn’t help but giggle. “Really? You were planning a 'Deux Ex Machina' with an UNLOADED gun?!”

Shit. SHIT. Load the fucking gun. How the fuck did you not remember that?

“See?” She opened the gun chamber and walked over to you using a condescending baby voice. “This is where the bullets go,”

You started to say something snarky but noticed that Olivia was sneaking up behind Cassie to grab the actual loaded gun she still had in her jacket. Cassie heard her heels on the hardwood floor and spun to catch her in the middle of a step.

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that, bitch,” She put a hand into her jacket to grab her gun.

“NO!!!!” You screamed with a mighty vengeance before charging Cassie.

In under five seconds you managed to grab the gun from Cassie and simultaneously pulled the trigger as it left her body, shooting a bullet straight to her head. Cassie’s lifeless body fell to the ground with a loud thud. It all happened so fast and so instinctively, you hadn’t had time to even grasp what you were doing before it was all over.

“Oh my god…” You dropped the gun in an almost trance-like state for a moment, disassociating with what you had just done. However, it was a fleeting moment as you immediately looked back to the floor to see Cassie’s bloody corpse laying in front of you.

“Oh my god…” You leapt away from Cassie’s body as tears began streaming down your face. You felt like the breath had been taken from you and your feet gave way under you.

“Whoa whoa whoa, hey hey hey,” Rafael ran up behind you and caught you in his arms, easing you to the ground with his hands under your armpits. You just sat there now, staring agape at Cassie’s body.

“I…I didn’t mean to--” You turned to look at Rafael, and the single sight of him with his astonished and horrified eyes caused you to burst into tears immediately.

“Shhh, I know I know,” He stroked your hair gingerly while looking over at Olivia.

“A little help here?” He addressed her with gritted teeth.

“I…” Olivia blinked several times while staring at Cassie’s body before looking at an impatient Rafael. “I’m sorry Raf, I need a minute,”

“YOU need a minute?!” Rafael stood up and left you to console yourself for the moment.

“That girl just killed her sister,” He hissed, trying to make sure you didn’t hear him. “This is your job,”

“My job?” Olivia looked at him with a perplexed look.

“Look Olivia,” Rafael took a breath. “I know you may still be mad at her, but I’m going to need you to put away your bullshit bias right now and console a victim,”

“A victim? She--” Olivia started.

“OLIVIA,” Rafael reiterated sternly. “She just saved your life,”

“...True,” Olivia shrugged softly.

She couldn't really argue with that. Even though she was still angry that you had lied to her, and everyone, you had just killed your own sister to save her life. She really didn’t have a leg to stand on with her pouting anymore. She slowly walked over to you and got on her knees, putting both hands on your shoulders.

“Y/N…Honey I know this is a lot,” She used her “victim” voice. Which coincidentally sounded a lot like her ‘mom’ voice.

“A lot?” You stopped crying to look at her. “Yeah, I’d say it’s a lot,” You laughed harshly through your tears.

“But I know you didn’t mean to,” Olivia went on. “All of us know that” She gestured around the room; the squad members all nodded their heads sympathetically at you.

“It was self-defense,” She cooed quietly.

“Self-defense?” You looked at her with an astonished face.

“I wasn’t protecting me; I was protecting you!" You protested. "I was protecting--"

“Your family,” She finished for you with a small smile.

“...I…” Your mouth fell open and your eyes widened, had she really just said that?

“...Yes,” You finally nodded in agreement as sobs threatened to choke you once again.

“Y/N I am still…angry at the fact that you lied to us--” She gestured around the room. “To me,” She looked back at you.

“I know,” You let fresh tears drip down your face. “I’m sorry--”

“BUT” She put a hand on your shoulder to stop you from speaking. “...Cassie may have been your biological sister,” She started.

“Half-sister,” You clarified, trying to distance Cassie as far from you emotionally as you could right now.

“Right,” Olivia nodded. “And…” She took a long pause while taking a deep breath.

“And Johnny Drake may be your biological father,” She finally said the words out loud. “...But…”

“What are you saying?” You asked in a very soft voice. Should you dare to even start to feel hopeful at the prospect of what you thought she was saying?

“I’m saying,” She cleared her throat of any tears of her own before taking both of your hands in hers.

“You may be Johnny Drake's daughter,” She blinked back tears. “...But you’re also my daughter,”

“Really?” You asked in an almost childlike voice.

Had Olivia Benson really just “adopted” you right there? Claimed you as one of her own? Were you hallucinating all of this from the lack of blood loss in your body?

“Yeah, really,” She nodded with a huge smile before pulling you into the tightest hug you’d ever been given. It was so tight you had to actually force yourself to breathe in-between her embrace.

“Sorry, I’m sorry sweetie,” She felt you struggle and quickly released you from her death grip of a hug.

“It’s okay…mom,” The words fell out of your mouth so easily. You had been wanting to use the name on her for months, the fact that you now could openly and freely, and as your true self, it was bliss.

A VERY Short-lived bliss.

“Yeah, that’s great for you all and I’m really happy for you Liv,” Finn interrupted your mother daughter moment with a serious voice.

“But NOW WHAT?” He gestured around the room.

“Fuck,” You mumbled as you realized that it had now been two gunshots being heard from your apartment. Your dad would be getting too anxious for your well-being. Surely, he was on his way up.

“We need to--” You looked around the room trying to decide what to do first.

Should you tell them to call for backup right now or was it more important to get out of the apartment first? Backup might spook your dad’s men away, but if you ran into him, you’d have to answer a hell of a lot of questions, and they’d be dead before any kind of backup arrived.

“We need to leave,” You finally decided on an action. “NOW,”

“Oh angel,” You heard the voice behind you, making your blood run cold. You turned to see your father standing in the doorway of the apartment with a huge devilish smile.

“I hope you’re not leaving on my account,” He spoke smoothly as he entered the apartment and shut the door behind him.

Fuck.

#rafael barba imagine #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction #law and order special victims unit #words fail #olivia benson

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june-girl-86 · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter 44

Ahsoka was rescued after the attack on her. But her abilities since then disappeared. Who or what can help her find them again?

Pairing: Din Djarin x OC Female!

ReaderRating: Mature/Explicit (+18)

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence / Love / Action&Adventure / Blood&Violence / Drama & Romance / Slow Burn / Fluff&Smut

As Ahsoka opened her eyes, feeling the pressure on her face through the mask, liquid around her, panic rose in the Togruta. Her hands sped upward but didn't get far, touching the cold glass and pushing upward in a futile attempt to reach freedom. Her hands clenched into fists, trying to break the glass, but the pounding against it only echoed loudly in her ears. Her battered consciousness did not realize that she was safe, that the Bacta tank was healing her. Her whole body struggled to break out of her supposed prison. She could detect movement beside her, perhaps she was finally being freed. Sure enough, a crack opened in the lid and she reached her hands out. But instead of helping her, a cold, mechanical hand touched her. She tried to free herself here too, but the more she wriggled, the weaker she became. The droid had injected her with a sedative through the cannula in the back of her hand. Ahsoka's breaths slowed, her body falling back into a dreamless sleep of healing.

Flies buzzed over the fishpond and every now and then a frog's tongue darted out and snatched its meal. Ahsoka sat in the shade of a tree in the grass and watched the hustle and bustle, and yet her thoughts were not here. She didn't notice how the butterfly landed on her shoulder, paused for a few wing beats, and then rose back into the air.

It had taken her a while to get here from the stone building that lay behind the bamboo grove. After her stay in the bacta tank, she had had just enough strength to get up from her bed to get to the table where her food was. Likewise, getting to the bathroom and back had felt like a forced march. Her body healed very slowly and she was not used to this. Likewise, she lacked the strength to connect with her environment. It was as if someone had cut this bond that had always belonged to her. Hadn't Bo-Katan killed her with that explosion, but robbed her of her power?

"You think too much. Your mind needs to heal too!"

Startled, Ahsoka flinched; she hadn't heard Luke coming, much less felt him. The took a seat cross-legged beside her and touched her comfortingly on the arm.

"How did you find me?"

Ahsoka had been here for some time now, but other than R2-D2 and other droids, she hadn't seen anyone. But it had been immediately clear to her after the sighting of R2-D2 that she must be in a domicile of Luke.

"In which I followed your deep footprints. They show how weighed down your body still is!"

Ahsoka had actually meant something else, and Luke knew it.

"Morai led me to you. Without her and the neti, you wouldn't be alive!"

The Togruta bowed her head. Had she left the planet before Bo-Katan reached her, but it happened at Dar's request. Who knows how the future would have changed, by one wrong action.

"You did the right thing! Let's take a few steps!"

Luke stood up and extended his hand to help her up. Slowly, at Ahsoka's pace, they walked into the bamboo grove, but a different direction than to the building. Birds chirped and a small mouse scurried across the forest floor. Again and again they stopped, Luke let Ahsoka catch her breath. Then the forest cleared and Ahsoka noticed the young trees. As she approached them, she felt a brief tingle in her fingertips. She looked first at them and then at Luke questioningly.

"I took as many as I could of those that survived the fire. The others sacrificed themselves for your life!"

Ahsoka closed her eyes and felt the tears coming away.

"You are one of them now!" smiled Luke, crouching down in front of a small tree and gently stroking its leaves. He could feel the life and gratitude.

"Hey, Snips! Wake up!"

Ahsoka blinked and rubbed her eyes. Her Master stood leaning over her, smiling at her.

"We're here!" he informed her, walking toward the open ramp. Ahsoka blinked again, she was confused. Where had Anakin taken her?

"Where are we?" she asked absentmindedly as she followed him. It was night, only a thin crescent moon could be seen, disappearing again and again behind the clouds.

"I notice you haven't been listening to me at all, Snips!"

Ahsoka shrugged her shoulders in embarrassment, trying to keep up with her master. He had activated his blue lightsaber and was leading her across the dirt path. Somehow this path seemed familiar to Ahsoka, as if she had walked along it just yesterday. Past the pond, the row of trees and behind them appeared a village. Next to the well, where several buckets were stacked, they stopped. The outside lights of the huts were on, otherwise it was quiet in the village. Only the croaking of frogs from the pond reached their ears. Anakin's lightsaber went out and he looked to her.

"Do you remember?"

Ahsoka swallowed and nodded. She was home. Could remember the moment she had accompanied her mother to fetch water, played tag with her playmates before leaving home to study. She did not understand why her master had brought her back here. When she tried to ask him, he had disappeared. Searching, she looked around until she felt the cold coming on. Goosebumps formed on her arms and she also felt cold inside. And then she heard the static sound. With every breath... She could perceive the black figure between the huts activating the lightsaber. First that beautiful blue blade came out, but it was only a blink of an eye, then the red one had won.

"No!", Ahsoka groaned in shock as she understood where he was going and who he was. He was heading for her home and she could feel his hatred. She started walking, but her steps were so slow, as if time was working against her. She could hear the creak of the wooden stairs he was going up. How his lightsaber slid through the wall of the door to get inside. His breaths and the crackle of the lightsaber. And then a force pulled at her body, yanking her across the way, into the room where her parents slept. Her mother had opened her eyes, presumably awakened by a noise. And the last thing she saw was the fiery red beam of the lightsaber hovering over her before it touched her body and then her husband's, ripping them from their lives. Then that black figure raised its head and the dark mask stared at Ahsoka....

A dull thud made Ahsoka's eyes open with a gasp. She felt the hard floor beneath her, the pain spreading through her limbs as a result. She had fallen out of bed. Her clothes were wet with sweat and her body shook and trembled. She rolled onto her side, tightened her legs and continued to lie there. She didn't want to get up again, she didn't want to go back to sleep and she didn't want to dream about how her master had killed her parents. It was not the first time. He had sent her this dream when she was mentally weakened after her escape. He had clearly sensed through their former bond as Master and Padwan that she had survived Order 66. But instead of hunting her down, he made it clear to her that he was killing others close to her to do so. She could still remember how agonizing that sight had been the first time. Her screams had pierced the forest where she was hiding. Now she would like to scream again, but she lacked the strength.

The days passed, the physical condition improved, but Ahsoka felt mentally quite drained. The dream still gave her a headache that would not go away. She also went Luke out of the way, but she was drawn to the pond in the shade, felt how even inside her, a shadow laid on her.

But on this day, she was not alone. Grogu was on a rock in the water, floating lightly above it. He seemed very concentrated and not as vulnerable as he had been the last time they met. He had chosen his path.

When she had awakened in the morning, both of her lightsabers had been on the table. If she was honest with herself, she hadn't missed the weapons at all. Now they lay before her wrapped in a blue silk. Carefully she opened it and stared at the lightsabers. Her fingers slid over the silver hilts, the fine nicks in them made by fighting and other incidents. Her hand clasped the longer saber and activated it. She felt the slight vibration and heard the mechanical hum. But no whispers entered her ears, as they usually did when the weapon spoke to her. No tingle that traveled up her arm and made her feel she was not alone. Ahsoka closed her eyes and squeezed them tightly shut. She called out in her mind for the saber, but it remained silent. Instead, the image of the red saber killing her parents reappeared. She opened her eyes, reached out with her arm and with a loud desperate cry threw the saber away from her. The weapon flew over the water and stopped in midair just before it dipped into it. Grogu blinked in irritation from his position and held his small hand towards the saber. Slowly, it floated back and landed in front of Ahsoka on the blue silk where the smaller one lay.

"He misses his father every minute, but his will to learn is strong. And his faith that one day he will see him again and he will hold him in his arms!" said Luke, noticing Ahsoka twitching. Just as she couldn't make contact with her lightsabers, she still wasn't able to sense him. Something else for that.

"I sensed evil a few days ago, and you can't get rid of it!"

Ahsoka nodded.

"He sought her out. He was in Shili!"

She didn't need to say more, Luke knew what she meant and he looked back out at the lake.

"Displacement is wrong. You've carried that pain inside you all these years and that baggage has grown and is pushing your soul down!"

Ahsoka lowered her head, wrapping her swords back into the silk. Her hands lingered on it as if to apologize for what she had done.

Luke had never seen the Togruta so vulnerable, and now he had to show her the reason why she failed to heal mentally. She had dark circles under her eyes and her skin looked pale as well.

"Morai is not well!" sighed Luke and Ahsoka looked at him, startled. She realized that besides her weapons, she hadn't thought about Morai either. Not once had she considered where the Convor might be.

"I wanted to spare you the sight, but by now I understand that you are too connected!"

Ahsoka followed Luke, it was not to the stone building, but through the dense forest. The path became narrower and narrower until they reached a small cabin. When Luke opened the door, the sunlight shone on the straw-covered floor. And in the middle of it sat Morai. Ahsoka gasped in horror and held her hands over her mouth. Morai looked as horrible as she felt. The plumage, which otherwise shimmered gloriously green and white, was brown-gray and ruffled. But worst of all was when Morai opened her eyes. There was a blankness and weariness in them. Ahsoka sank to her knees and heaved a sob. Luke stepped behind her and put his hand on her shoulder comfortingly.

"You two need to get better. Morai used all her energy to contact me and help the Neti. The trees formed a cocoon of their roots and branches to keep you alive. But they were weakened, so Morai did her best. When I arrived, their lives were hanging by a thread. Since you possess a powerful bond, your recovery, kept them alive!"

Morai opened her beak and beeped. Ahsoka's hand trembled as she touched the convordame's head. She tilted it and beeped again as she enjoyed the contact. Then she closed her eyes and the slow breathing showed Ahsoka that Morai had fallen asleep.

@rain-on-kamino

#the burden of responsibility #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin #anakin and ahsoka #ahsoka tano #luke skywalker #grogu #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fanfic #ahsoka tano fanfiction #star wars ahsoka

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up-sideand-down · 3 years ago

Note

2 & 99 Sefikura please

Rules: Send me two (2) tropes from this list + a ship and I’ll describe how I’d combine them in the same story.

2. Royal AU

99. Magical Accidents

As a Prince, Sephiroth had never really known hardship or hard work. As the son of very cold and distant parents, he was very acquainted with loneliness. He didn't even miss his parents very much when they did die very suddenly, it was more of just an "oh, that's sad" moment. What was a shock was when, during his coronation, the ceremonial wine he was supposed to drink turned him into a cat. The fellows in black robes who put him in a bag and ran off were also very surprising. It was the first time he'd ever felt terror, but cat instincts kicked in, first to fight and claw his way out of the sack and then to run like hell.

Sephiroth ran all through that night and through a rainstorm, first to get away from his catnappers, then to get away from carts on the road that nearly ran him over, then to get away from a pack of dogs who were more than happy to tear him apart. He ran through the woods, yowling for help. He thought he was doomed until a light shot through the trees and a voice rang out yelling for the dogs to shoo. He tried to scurry off, but strong arms picked him up and efficiently pinned and carried him under and arm. "You're alright," the voice said, "We'll get you cleaned up." It was the first friendly voice he'd heard. When he finally entered someplace warm he was set down and saw his savoir. A young woman with wild hair. She wore a mousy brown coat, but had an unmistakable hat: she was a witch.

It didn't take very long for the witch to sniff out that the cat she found wasn't a cat. "It's a fairly powerful spell, huh?" she said cleaning up in a bowl of warm water and then fluffing him dry. "You're a handsome fellow nice and clean at least." Sephiroth clung to her desperately wanting his body back. She stayed kind and pet him and let him follow her, though she couldn't understand a sound he was making. "I don't know if I can turn you back. I'm not that sort of witch, but I can try. It might take a while though. You can stay until then, just don't kill the chickens." Sephiroth never let her out of his sight.

Cloud had been the local witch in the region for a while, and she was both feared and hated, though Sephiroth couldn't figure out why. She only ever helped people. Her days were long and busy solving crop problems, healing colds, birthing children, and protecting the villages and houses from the creatures in the woods. People sneered and glared at her behind her back while she helped them. A few even tried to kick Seph calling him her filthy familiar. But several, while silent gave her thank yous, baskets of food, leftover bread, a few articles of newly woven clothes, and even a nice new pair of boots. Cloud came and helped anyway. "Because I'm the only one who will, and I know it." She still made time everyday to try and work a counter-curse to Seph's spell. He remained a cat. He tried to make himself useful, catching the mice and rats, though he never could make himself kill them. He'd just cart them off outside and shoo them away.

After 3 months of being stuck as a cat, Cloud gave up. "I can't turn you back, but it's strange. A spell like this...it should have worn off a few weeks ago. The only explanation I have, is that you have a little magic yourself. And that the only thing keeping you a cat...is you. Why do you want to be a cat, pretty thing?" Sephiroth felt slightly ashamed, but he knew it was true. He was keeping himself a cat. He wanted to stay here, with Cloud in her thankless job. He loved it. He loved helping people and feeling that the little things he did made a difference. Even more than that...he loved Cloud. He loved her more than anything: loved the way she always looked over her shoulder to make sure he was there, loved her laughing at him being unable to kill a little mouse, loved sleeping next to her in bed and feeling her drowsy fingers scratching that perfect spot behind his ears. He wanted to stay with her forever.

Eventually the people of Seph's kingdom demanded an explanation to where Sephiroth had gone. Sephiroth's uncle Rufus, who had concocted the plan, found a scapegoat in Cloud. Found a way to blame the innocent witch of changing and killing the prince. Except Seph was very much alive. Before Cloud could be arrested, Sephiroth found the courage to spring back into himself. Cloud seemed surprised that her "pretty thing" was actually a fairly handsome prince. The guards were also surprised the "familiar" was in fact the living prince, considering he had been dead for months. Sephiroth acted more a royal in those few short hours than he ever did in his life. Rufus agreed to Sephiroth's demands, because the only thing worse than killing your nephew for power...was admitting you failed miserably at it. Sephiroth gave up his throne and his crown and walked happily back to a cabin in the woods...as Cloud's apprentice. Cloud welcomes her "pretty thing" into her home, her work, her life...and back into her bed for snuggles now and then.

#au #final fantasy vii #cloud strife #sephiroth #fem!cloud #witch!cloud #cat!seph

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taeescript · 3 years ago

Text

II. Script of the Angel

��𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 >> This is the story of three very different people. A successful novelist, a blossoming artist and a dedicated cop. They seem to have nothing in common. Yet, they are continually drawn to each other. It is as if their fates have been intertwined. Written. That they must meet.

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> ft. jungkook and jimin primarily.

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 >> policeman!jimin, author!jungkook, painter!reader, serialkiller!XXX; a classic game of cat and mouse

𝔴/𝔠 >> 6.6k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> mature themes depicted. due to the explicit nature of the topic (serial killers, murders, violence, sexual content, infidelity etc.) scenes are graphic. this is rated 18+. to spare storytelling: please consider yourself warned.

𝔞/𝔫 >> i’m so glad to see people enjoyed the last part! this part is a little shorter but i hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless. will likely be making a masterlist post for this soon as i’m having too much fun writing this and it’s getting long. feedback and comments always appreciated. as always, enjoy! (:

previous part || masterlist || next part

Muscles and bones. The primary architecture of the human body. It allows us to stand and walk; sit and run; jump and spin. But what really keeps us alive? Blood. It carries the nutrients our body needs. It carries the defenders our body requires. So integral to our survival, blood can tell a story of its own. Looking at the direction of travel along with the width and length of the spatter, a single droplet is its own author, spinning a tale of its origin and its birth. A good spatter gives us more information than just a large overlapping pool. “Come again?” Jimin says in disbelief. Taehyung shrugs. He is the unit’s spatter analyst. In one latex covered hand, he holds a cotton swab and the other is pinching his nose. “There are traces of blood everywhere,” he repeats. “Yet I don’t see a single stain of red anywhere,” Jimin rubs his temples, “Are you telling me that the killer had enough time to wipe the whole room clean?” “I’m only telling you what science has told me,” Taehyung says. He carefully dances around another coworker to reach his open kit. It shuts with a loud snap and the younger turns back to look at his commanding officer. “Can I please get back to the lab? This smell is killing me.” Jimin can only wave half-heartedly at him before turning his attention to the scene in front of him. It is eight in the morning. They had received an anonymous call about fifteen minutes ago describing a horrific murder. The station had forwarded the call to him and after hearing the detailed account, he left the station with his team. “Fuck me. What in the world happened here?” a new voice enters the scene. It is too much even for him to handle this early in the morning. Jimin utters a “you tell me”, then excuses himself from the room. He pushes past the crowding officers and curious residents until he reaches the front of the hotel. There, his stomach dislodges everything it can. Even as he wipes his mouth, the black spots do not cease dancing in front of his eyes. Deeper in his vision, the picture is all too clear. She hangs from the ceiling with her arms stretched wide. Her feet are wrapped together in rope and her body is naked. Attached behind are two massive wings. The feathers have been stitched carefully together to create an impressive wingspan and if they were not speared into her back, Jimin may have thought they were beautiful. Yet there they were, dug into her shoulder blades, ripping into her muscle and tissue. That was not the centerpiece of it all. Missing from the body were all its abdominal organs. They had been ripped out, cut out… forensics would tell him how they were taken out, but they were gone. Replaced inside her was a large bouquet of red roses. They glistened in the sunlight and when the team had arrived, there were still dew drops on its velvety petals. The grotesque memory causes his body to expel its contents again. “Boss,” the voice from before returns, “You alright?” Jimin turns to face his partner. Namjoon stands in front of him, a worried expression which contorts his face. Namjoon is one of his only friends at the work force, being the only one similar in age. The other agents were all much older than him so with common interests, the two were naturally drawn to each other. Jimin liked Namjoon well enough. He was smart and quick on his feet. More than once, Jimin had reached out to Namjoon for advice, whether it be for work or personal life. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yeah, I wasn’t prepared to see that this early in the morning,” Jimin says. Namjoon nodded. He too has dark circles under his eyes and his lips were hardened into a thin, straight line. “Makes you imagine what a sick motherfucker could create this,” he comments. They stand in silence for a quick second until Namjoon speaks again, “What do you think we should do?” Jimin resumes his commanding role. “Take down the body. Have somebody sweep it thoroughly. Send a couple of the lab geeks in to scan the room. I want everything put into evidence, even if it’s a speck of dust. Everybody leaves something behind, and we will find it.” “What about the civilians? We’ve got a growing, curious crowd spreading like cancer.” “You’re Lieutenant. Do something about it,” Jimin light-heartedly teases Namjoon in his new role. Namjoon slightly flinches at the address. Although Namjoon had been promoted to a position higher than Jimin’s, Namjoon only ever treated him in the way they had always been working together: as partners. “Fuck me,” Namjoon curses with his favourite two words. Jimin grins. “Maybe later. I’ve got a shit ton of paperwork to get started back at the station. I’ll see you,” he pats his distracted friend’s shoulder. Taking a last scan of the building, Jimin strides towards his parked car. He is ready to hunt down the person who dared mess around in his town.

...

Jungkook watches the scene before him with mild interest. His ears pick up the voice of an officer that is instructing the crowd that everything is under control; to return to what they are doing without a worry. “What’s going on?” the housewife asks beside him. She is still in you pajamas and had seemed to wander out due to the hubbub. He smiles at her. “Murder.” She regards him with wide eyes. Her feet stumble backwards and she scurries away. The officer had finished his speech and the crowd was now dissipating. Jungkook took it as his cue to exit as well. As he walks out of the hotel, he feels vaguely irritated. At the end, his script is not perfectly carried out. He had needed to modify it slightly although the end result is what he had planned it to be. Even the timing of the police’s arrival after his call had been as he predicted. The world was too easy for him to guess. Now, it is time to return to Krystal. Even without using his vast knowledge of facial cues and body expressions, he knows exactly how she would react. Nostrils dilated, lower lid tensed, brows lowered and lower jaw jutting out. He reads her like a book and its title screamed “anger”. “Where were you all last night?” she questions, hands placed on her hips. He sighs while placing his jacket on the hanger at the entranceway. His feet ache as they pad across the tiles towards the bedroom. “I was out doing research. I told you yesterday,” he says. She bites her lip. When he walked past her, she could smell a faint hint of perfume mixed with a lemony clean scent like soap. Her jaws clench tighter. “Yes. But you had said you would be out late. You never said you’d be gone the entire night!” she follows him closely behind. He does not turn or wait for her. Once inside the bedroom, he throws off his shirt and pants, trudging to the showers. “Don’t you think you could have given me a call at least?” she asks. His figure is a faint silhouette through the shower curtain. She can see him scrubbing his face. She waits for him until the water is shut down and he steps out of the box. Water drips from his hair and his skin is still a flush pink from the heat. The room fills with steam and he brushes past her on the way out. Still, she relentlessly follows him. “Jeon Jungkook!” she calls out, “Say something!” He pulls out a new pair of boxers from the drawer and put them on. Once they snap against his waist, he turns to finally look at her. “I’m tired, and you’re annoying me. We’ll talk when I wake up,” he says. Tears sting her eyes but she cannot allow him to see any type of weakness. She whirls around on her heels and stalk out of the room, leaving him to himself. The door slams shut loudly behind her and makes his ears slightly ring. The sheets are cold and inviting on his body. The wrap around him like a silky cocoon and his eyes are heavy the instance he hits the pillow. There is only one last thing to do before he can allow his body to rest. With delicate fingers, he pries off the paper-thin gloves from his hands. They slide off smoothly and if there was an onlooker in the room at that moment, they would have been reminded of a snake that was shedding its skin. These are special gloves just for his hobbies. They disguise his hands so that they are void of fingertips. They are so lightweight he cannot feel them at all. They blend in with his body so perfectly, only the keenest of eyes would be able to notice the thin line above his wrist where the material ends. They are perfect for him and allow him to do what he does without a worry. He leaves the material out on the top of the drawer. He knows that Krystal would not be back in the room for a while so it is safe sitting there. They are like contact lenses, shriveling and drying up due to the exposure to air. In about fifteen minutes time, they would look like shrunken autumn leaves and be the size of a walnut. The room-keeper would find them if he had still not thrown them out, and discard them thinking they were candy wrappers. He lets his body drift into nothingness, content with the day’s work.

...

Besides having a good eye for detail, a coroner should be able to work under extremely stressful conditions. They could be asked to visit crime scenes, identify human remains or supervise the transportation of corpses. Working often behind the scenes, a coroner is an integral part to this unit. It is sad to say that we are low in numbers and are extremely interested in people joining our team! If you have taken subjects like biology, chemistry and forensics, in addition to law and humanities, we encourage you to apply to our graduate program! We would love to see you working beside us! Jimin’s eyes scan the announcement that has been placed on the door of the coroner’s office. He is scheduled for a meeting with the elder man on what may have been found and as a man of time, he is early for it. “Park! You’re here,” the coroner steps out of his office. He has patches of grey hair and a scruff of facial hair that he now scratches with his fingers. Dressed in his usual white lab coat, his black shoes peek out from beneath his pants and they lead the way towards the morgue. “How’s it going, Fernando?” Jimin greets back, “I see your wife has been feeding you well.” He eyes a popped button on the stomach of his coworker. Fernando laughs. It is loud and bounces off the white walls of the building. It is a laugh that is jolly and hearty; a strange sound to hear in the location they currently are. “Maria always has a full meal whenever I return home. I swear, she’s trying to fatten me up like the witch from Hansel and Gretel,” he chuckles. He and Maria, a linguistic analyst also working in the police force, had been married for years. They had invited nearly the whole station to their wedding and wanted to celebrate for another week before a case had dragged everyone back to work. The two turn a corner and the black door of the morgue greets their face. Fernando hands Jimin a pair of gloves and a mask before they enter the room. The body has already been laid on the table and labelled after Fernando’s inspection. “I’ve already submitted the full report. You’ll find it on your desk by tomorrow morning,” Fernando speaks with a muffled voice due to the mask. The material itches Jimin’s nose and he wrinkles it. His fingers carefully pick up the sheet that covers the body and he scans the female underneath. “You know I like to see the victims personally for each case. Do you mind giving me an overview?” he asks. The other man shrugs. This is not the first case he’s worked with Jimin. While he was not a hard man to work with, he was extremely meticulous – borderline obsessive – in details to the point that it was tiring and burdensome. “No signs of struggles. She evidently took care of her body and skin; probably went to the gym in the times between work. Besides the large opening on her abdomen, the rest of her is intact.” “What is missing from her?” “Mainly her digestive system and portions of her excretory system. Everything within her ribcage has been preserved and unmoved.” “So nothing out of the ordinary then.” “Aside from the gaping hole? No. My best guess is that she knew her attacker. Or if she didn’t, then she at least didn’t sense any danger from him.” “What makes you say that?” “I found seminal fluid in her body.” This new information made Jimin turn his attention away from the body and back to Fernando. He had finished circling the table while mentally confirming everything Fernando had been saying. “You’re suggesting our killer may have had intercourse with our victim then?” “Jane Doe, technically,” Fernando inserted, “We haven’t made an ID on her quite yet.” Jimin waved the comment away. “Maybe,” Fernando recognized Jimin’s piercing look, “I sent a sample of it to the lab geeks. It could be from the killer or it might be from when she last had sex.” Jimin knew how long these types of analyses could take. He didn’t want to wait several weeks for results so he told Fernando to put a rush on it. Fernando stood wordlessly and watched Jimin as he continued to encircle the body. Every so often, his fingers would reach out and lightly tap a part of the body. With each tick the clock on the wall made, it seemed to drive its sound into Fernando’s skull. When he could not take the silence any longer, he let out a cough. At the sound, Jimin remembers that he is not alone in the room. It happened every time he got absorbed in a case. He would become trapped in his own world and forget everything that was around him. “Sorry, Fernando. I’m going to be here a little longer. You’re free to leave. I’ll read the report tomorrow morning and if I have any more questions, I’ll find you again,” he dismisses him. Fernando bows politely and exits the room. High cheekbones, full lips and a perky nose. She was attractive enough to gain a few extra glances when she had walked down the street. Was that how she got the attention of the killer? That would make sense to why he maintained her facial features and took out her organs. Perhaps it was an interpretation of keeping her beautiful exterior shell. It could also explain why a bouquet of flowers was put inside her. Jimin shook his head. He was thinking too much. Who knew what went on in the mind of a killer? Well, besides the killer themselves. He observes her face a while longer and notices that it is not as perfectly symmetrical as he had initially thought. In fact, her right cheek bulged out in a way similar to after a person had their wisdom teeth pulled out. Bringing the overhanging light towards the mouth of the girl, he shines the light inside. There were a couple of metal tools that were placed on a tray nearby and Jimin used this to pry inside her mouth. He pushes aside the meat of her cheeks and peers at the gums. There was nothing unusual there. Something continues to urge him to look further so he turns his head slightly and checks the inner cheek. Deep at the bottom of the valley where muscle meets gums, he notices markings that stand out from the normal. He is unable to make out what they are and so he pushes away the bright light. Opting for a smaller flashlight, he drops the piercing ray of light to where he had been looking before. Four squiggles. 2-0-something-1. Or was that an I? He rotates his head further. The originally illegible third Jimin becomes an A, and the two looks more like an S at this angle. If these were letters, then the second Jimin could potentially be an “O”. The last symbol was still inconclusive as it could be either a one or “I”. Consumed with his new finding, Jimin nearly forgets to record the new information. It is not until a few seconds later that he then whips out his cellular phone and snaps a picture of it. He cannot decipher whether the symbols could be anything more than letters and numbers so he peels off his mask and throws it with the gloves into the trash bin. As he walks out of the coroner’s building and back to the main station, a feeling continues to burn in his gut. His intuition is telling him that there is something oddly familiar with what he had just saw. It wasn’t the girl or the markings themselves, but rather the position he had found them in. He felt like he had seen something like this before. He scratches his head the entire way back until he sits at his desk. That is when he remembers.

...

The light takes him by surprise from the slight crack of his curtains. Warmth from the afternoon sun hits him directly at the eyes and its rays creates a band that gives him the illusion akin to Cyclops from X-Men. He stretches and feels his muscles straining from last night’s activities. With a roll of his neck, he bounces off the bed and throws his legs onto the floor. The cold from being out of his blankets send a shiver down his spine that makes him curl his toes. Everything is strangely quiet around him. He does not hear the clatter of plates nor the running of water. There are no soft paddings from footsteps. The world is silent. He grabs a shirt from his suitcase and throws it over his head, bringing a small bit of warmth to his body. With each step around their hotel room he sees nothing. Her clothing is gone as with it her toothbrush and shoes. In fact, her entire suitcase has disappeared. With miniscule curiosity he returns back to the bedroom and unplugs his charging phone. There is one unread message and he opens it. “I know you’re tired but I don’t think that’s an excuse for your outburst this morning. Regardless, I will respect your need for personal space. I’m flying back to LA. I’ll see you when you return. – Krystal” Her words are curt and straight-forward. He reads her frustration between the words but doesn’t carry it with him. He knows she is waiting for an apology but he is too engrossed with his newfound freedom. He had not planned for the research on this trip to be completed with such speed and so his return train ride was not scheduled until the day after tomorrow. She will have to wait. He had a whole city to walk and sights to see. She will be waiting regardless. Ever so slightly he forms a smile with his lips. He walks over to the curtains and throws them open, allowing all the sunlight to enter his room. It bounces off the white sheets and covers the rug. Dust particles float around after being stirred from their slumber. With a hand pressed against the window, Jungkook peers down from the height of the hotel. He watches the automobiles that zoom beneath his gaze and traces the pathway of each person that passes by. It is a good day.

...

Fingertips graze her lips with a type of tenderness that sends small vibrations through her entire body. He holds her gaze and she peers shyly into his half-moon eyes. A smile dances on his face while she caresses his face with tremoring hands. He grabs them and holds it in his own. “You’re shaking,” he says with a light teasing tone. She wants to pull away but he holds them only stronger. He traces the lines on her palms to soothe her, but it only makes her shake all the more. “Is this real?” the question brushes your mouth much like the autumn wind rustling through leaves. It falls from your lips and floats gently to reach his ears. “Do you want this be real?” he asks you. His eyes never leave you, starting from the top of you forehead to trace to the tip of your nose and finally landing on your cherry stained lips. You faintly hear the sound of laughter in the background and the pattering of feet running but you are only consumed by the man who sits in front of you. Your nod is but a slight shift of your head. He smiles at you and cups your face in the warmth of his hands. Pressing his lips affectionately on yours, you inhale and take in everything from him. “I love you, Y/N” he confesses with all of his heart. You can feel your heart tugging towards him as he stands and offers a hand. You take it and he lightly pulls you to his feet. A rush overcomes you and suddenly, he seems taller than you remember. You look down and sees him standing a few centimeters off the ground. Your brows furrow and you peer up at him again. He has turned and is now starting to run forward. “C’mon, let’s go!” he calls back towards you. You try to move your feet but they only propel you forward while he runs upward into the vast blue sky. “Hyun!” you cry, reaching out to him. He doesn’t seem to hear you but you see laughter bursting forth from his mouth. “You’ll have to run faster or you won’t catch up!” Pressing your feet firmly on the ground, you push off but gravity brings you back down. “Hyun, I can’t! I can’t get into the sky like you!” He has now risen further than ever, growing smaller in your vision. “C’mon, Y/N! Come fast, before you can’t catch up!” his voice is faint but you hear him calling to you. You run forward faster than ever but you are never able to leave the ground. Tears spill from the corner of your eyes in frustration at the fact that you are behind him. “Hyun, don’t leave me!” you scream between your sobbing, “Baekhyun!” Your dream is shattered at the sound of metal clattering to the floor. You are jolted awake and your heart bolts at the sudden sound. The metal can which held your wet paintbrushes were now spread across the floor after falling from the table. Your friend stands at the door with an embarrassed look on her face. “Sorry,” she says, bringing a finger from her forehead towards you in apology. You feel the rise in your heart rate. You conceal it by slowly getting up out of you seat and rolling you head to get rid of the kink. Together, both you and Min clean up the mess off the floor from where she had knocked over the art supplies. “Are you okay?” Min asks softly, not quite meeting your eyes as the two of you straighten out the other half completed canvases which balance precariously on the table. You blink in confusion, causing a tear to roll down your cheek. You reach up and brush it with your fingers. They return wet and tinged with green. You let out a small laugh. “I slept on paint again, didn’t I?” you muse. You and Min are standing at the art studio where you had spent all last night in. Your completed painting stands at the corner and Min walks over to it. Min tries to read what you are thinking, but the other has her head turned away. “You stayed here all night to complete this?” Min inspects the painting closer. It depicts a girl standing shyly in front of a boy against a background of red, pink and purple. The boy had his back towards the observer and he stood with his hands behind him holding a bouquet of flowers. The painting showed an innocent love between the two but when Min squinted her eyes, you noticed two circles that were put on the back of the coat the boy was wearing. Min raises an eyebrow and points it out to you. “Are those bullet holes?” You in the meantime had stood hypnotized in front of the painting. A strange feeling is stirring in your heart as you look at what you had painted. It brought forth the memory of Baekhyun standing in front of you with flowers after their first date. It led to the memory of your first shy kiss after. It made you remember the pain you felt from your dream. Another tear perches at the corner of your eye and you turn to brush it angrily away. Min is still standing in front of you, now watching you with concern. She could guess why you are crying and trying so hard to mask it. You had only ever shed tears for one person and this painting brought back the reminder that this person was no longer around you. “I’m not sure what that is,” you laughs nervously, “It was quite late last night. My mind does weird things when I am sleep deprived.” Without further explanation, you grab your bag and head out before any other memory can shake you. “I’m going home to shower,” you say without looking back, “Sorry about the mess of the studio. I’ll be back later to clean it.” Your last words choke and you escape before Min can see the tears that fall consciously down your cheeks this time.

...

3. 2. 1. Boom. Making the entrance of the century, the three horses gallop into the square where the three beings are strapped on. White. The stallion neighs and throws his head back, unsure of where to go next. But a loud snap makes it head to the right and it brings its hooves down on the ground. Its rider’s body has been punctured with holes and the smell that emits from it is horrendous. For the first horsemen is called Pestilence. Red. Its mane has been dipped in the blood of its enemy. It limps as the giant beast follows in step behind the stallion, a battle scar from its recent fight. His rider flails at a sharp right turn, causing the spear attached at the arm to clash with the helmet. For the second horsemen is called War. Black. The man is but naked, showing his skin pulled taut over the ribcage and bones. He carries the pair of scales with his stomach plastered on one end and the other tipped with bread. For the third horsemen is Famine, but this man can no longer fill his hunger seated upon the black horse. There is a final horseman. The fourth’s name is Death. But why does it need to exist, when it is so very much alive in the other three? Excerpt: Written - Three Horsemen Everything from his desk was moved into the presentation room that allowed him more space to work. Papers of the current case overlap with the papers from the older file. They are grouped in a way only the creator can understand and it is Jimin who stands before it. Picking at his lips with a hand, his foot taps rhythmically on the floor as he continues to scan what he has laid out in front of him. He knew something had been bothering him since he returned from the morgue. Now it was clear. He had remembered a case he had taken part of when he had been temporarily stationed in Los Angelos. The case had remained unsolved but the victim was similar to his Jane Doe. In that case, the man had TH3C scratched into the inner part of his cheek. Matching the picture he had taken earlier to the picture in the old file, they were even scratched in the same place. After digging around a little more, he found two other cases that were similar. It could be coincidence but if they were all related, this was not a simple kill any longer. They had a serial killer in their hands. However there is trouble with the cases. Besides the one he is holding, the other three are from Los Angeles. He technically no longer had any jurisdiction over them. Jimin was contemplating on calling up his colleague when his own phone interrupts his thought process. He answers the phone promptly. “Hello?” “Jimin?” your timid voice reaches his ears. His name uttered from you relaxes his tense shoulders. “Hey. What’s up?” He can hear shuffling from your side as you think about what to say. “I just wanted to call and see if you were okay. You didn’t return home last night.” “I went home for a bit but was called out pretty early for a case this morning. Wait, how did you know I didn’t go home?” “Ah… Well, I’m standing in front of your place right now.” “Why are you doing that?” He can basically hear your body language through the phone. You are gnawing on the inside of you cheek and probably tugging at your shirt, a habit you had when you were nervous. “I forgot my keys again. I thought that you might be home and I could use your shower.” Laughing at how sheepish your voice is, he says to you, “That tells me you slept over at the studio again. And very likely have paint on your face.” “Hey!” you huff, “I don’t wake up with paint on my face every single time!” “But you did this time, didn’t you?” he continues teasing you. You mutter something unintelligible, causing him to laugh at you again. “Unfortunately, I can’t step out of the office but if you don’t mind stopping over, I’ll hand you my keys.” You agree to his proposal and tell him that you’ll be there in twenty. Once their call ends, he chuckles silently to himself. You never seemed to change. When he and Baekhyun were roommates, there were multiple times he’d return home and find you standing outside their flat. You would tell him the same story of how you forgot your keys and of whether you could wash up at their place. And each and every time you would have a blotch of paint on you face where you had fallen asleep at the studio. He had teasingly got you face wash in a paint bottle for your birthday a long time ago as a joke. The last time he went over to your place, he had seen it standing in your room. His mind continues to wander to memories of his college days with Baekhyun and you until he is interrupted by Namjoon. “Whoah. What do you have going on here?” he asks, stepping towards the multitude of papers. Jimin takes this break to grab himself a new cup of coffee as the one sitting to the side had long since turned cold. “I was at the morgue earlier and discovered something strange. It reminded me of an old case,” he told Namjoon. Namjoon flipped through a couple of the pages but he was not as patient as Jimin to read through all the details. He scrunched up his nose and breezed past Jimin again. “I wanted to tell you we have a name for our Jane Doe,” Namjoon said, leaning against the doorframe. He is actually quite impressed at what Jimin has discovered in the span of the short time since they discovered the body this morning. Generally, he was impressed with how fast the department had gathered information. Perhaps as this was their biggest case in a while, the team as a whole was interested in solving it as soon as they can. “Sara Michel,” Namjoon continues on, “Female. 25. From Los Angeles. She’s a fine arts curator. She was in town for a meeting with the local museum about transferring a couple of new sculptures over. It’s been confirmed that the room we found her in this morning is the room her company booked for her while she was town.” “Los Angeles,” Jimin repeats. His eyes dart to the papers. Again, their neighbouring city is mentioned. “Yeah. What of it?” Namjoon picks up on Jimin’s sudden interest. He watches as the other walks over to the piles of paper and brings up a folder. “The old case I was talking about,” Jimin says, “It was from when I worked in LA last summer. A bit unusual that Ms. Michel is from there, don’t you think?” Namjoon scratches his chin. “Well, LA is a big city. And we’re only a train ride away….” Jimin shakes his head. “I don’t like it. Something weird is going on here.” Somebody outside the room yells out for Namjoon. He groans and Jimin throws him a sympathetic look. Jimin never told Namjoon, but before Namjoon was offered the promotion as lieutenant, Jimin had been approached by the captain. He had declined the position as he knew all the responsibilities that came with the new role. Besides, he enjoyed working as a detective; it allowed him hands-on access to all cases. “I’ll keep you updated on anything else I find,” Namjoon says as he turns to leave. Jimin replies, “Same here.” “Alright, well see you around. If I don’t get lost amongst all the conferences I have to start pulling…” his voice trails off as he exits with a dejected curve of his back.

...

“Hi,” your voice interrupts his nap. After Namjoon had left, Jimin had sat down at the desk fully planning to do some more research. However, his fatigue got the better of him and he ended up dozing off. He rubs his eyes sleepily and rises to greet you. You urge him to sit back down. You may have spent the night at the studio, but you looked more put together than he was. Dressed in the first pair of jeans he could find and an old tshirt, he was in a contrast to your outfit. You wore a pair of black and white polka-dotted overall shorts that you paired with a slim fit quarter sleeved shirt inside. A necklace hung around your neck, and you had thrown your hair into a messy bun. Tendrils of hair had fallen out, but it framed your face giving you an overall effortless but fresh look. Walking up to him, you sit gently at the edge of the table while he remains seated to your side. He gently reaches up and smudges the shadow of green paint on your face. “What a way to greet me,” you pout. He smiles at you, then yawns and stretches. Remembering why you had arrived, he rummages through his pocket and retrieves the key to his apartment for you. You thanked him for it and then rotate in your spot to take in the entire room. You were similar in this way, where the two of you had an eye for minute details. It intrigues you to see the pictures that had been laid out. It is true that they are morbid but being around Jimin all these years had made you accustomed to seeing images of a crime scene. “Are you going to be coming home tonight?” you ask him. Your back is still turned towards him as you walk up and study a picture up close. He walks up to you and stands behind. You were looking at the picture of the markings on one of the victims. “TH3C,” you whisper. “No,” his voice rumbles from behind you, “This case is pretty big. I’ll most likely be spending the night here.” You spin in your spot to face him again and your noses nearly touch. He stumbles and takes a step back at the close proximity. A frown starts to crease your forehead and you nervously chews on your fingernail. “What is it?” he sighs. It takes him a moment to gather himself while the scent of you lingers around him. “I feel bad that I’m barging into your place again,” you mumble, “What if I bring you dinner tonight?” “There’s no need. I’ll order take out from nearby. Besides, you’re always welcome at my place. It’s not a bother.” “Jimin…” He sighs, defeated. “Sure. I’ll wait for your meal.” You delightedly clap your hands together. “Perfect! I’ll make your favourite dish tonight! How does carbonara sound?” Nodding he feels the usual smile that appears around you on his face. It was strange. Before you came, he had nearly fainted with tiredness but now that you were here, it was like you had transferred you energy to him. “I’ll see you again tonight, then!” you quip animatedly. Taking his keys off the desk and into your pocket, you makes your way towards the door before stopping again. “TH,” you begin, “It makes me think of Three Horsemen.” “What’s that?” he asks you, distracted by the thought of delicious homemade food. “Three Horsemen. Remember the novel I was reading? It was just a random thought. And then maybe the number three for the third one? I don’t know what “C” would mean though. Perhaps it’s the horsemen from set C,” you continue to ramble on. You notice that Jimin is now staring at you with an intense gaze. You wave your hand in front of you, as if the simple action would cause you thoughts to magically disappear as well. “Forget what I said. I’m an artist,” you laugh nervously, “Besides if it was a set C, there would be a set B and A. And that would make… nine total kills. My mind is just overactive with the books I’m reading.” Jimin laughs nervously along with you. But inside, he mentally makes a note to investigate the possibility of what you have said, however miniscule that may be. You thank him once again for his hospitality and wave him good bye. When he is left alone again, he sinks back into his seat. It makes his bottom ache as he had been seated for a while, so he paces the room. Three Horsemen – Third Horsemen – Set C. TH3C. It wasn’t an unreasonable conclusion to draw. It was scary to imagine though. Eight other victims that were not found. His thoughts are interrupted once again when the phone in the room rings. Namjoon is on the other end when Jimin picks up. “We found a witness.”

...

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btsinwonderland · 3 years ago

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A Drop of Poison - Ch. 9: The Creature

A Loki fanfiction!

Previous Chapter --- Next Chapter

Full Chapter List

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

“Ouch! You stepped on my foot!” Pom said to Mo as the three of you stumbled inside the invisibility cloak. It barely covered the three of you and Mo was uncomfortably crab walking.

“I’m sorry, I can barely see a thing,” he said.

“Will you both please be quiet? The cloak isn’t soundproof, Skurge could hear us from across the school at this point!” you said.

The three of you crossed the main hallway and were about ten feet away from a side entrance to the courtyard outside. It was then you heard footsteps. The three of you were in the middle of the hall and there was nowhere to hide, so you stood completely still and waited.

It was Professor Heimdall. He was the one teacher you were concerned about who could see beyond what was ‘normal’. You held your breath as he walked past you. He paused for a moment and glanced about the room, as if he sensed something off, but he moved on. When he was far enough away, Mo and Pom sighed deeply and you led them out the door.

The air was chilly, and a biting wind flapped the cloak against your feet. “Let’s move fast. We can’t afford someone seeing us! Hold the cloak and walk together!” you said, above the howling wind.

The trees rustled and leaves soared past you. Some hit the cloak and you tried to shake them off as best you could. At one point, Mo had bumped his head onto a tree branch since he was so occupied watching his own feet as to not step on anyone’s toes again.

When the three of you reached the treeline of the Forbidden Forest, you stopped and took off the cloak. The autumn air chilled you to the bone, but you shook it away, concentrating on what you were about to do.

“Mo! We need you to stay here in case something goes wrong. Get help only if you absolutely have to,” you said.

Pom nodded. “I don’t think there’s much of a vantage point from the windows, so if you stay close to the trees here, you should be covered until we come back with Ken.”

Your heart lurched at her positivity and you prayed he was still alive.

“Got it! You two better hurry your asses up, because it is cold and I want to keep my balls if you don’t mind.”

You rolled your eyes at him and looked at Pom. “You sure you want to come with me?” You said.

“I need to find him.”

Mo shouted behind you both, “don’t die!”

You threw the cloak around both of you and ventured into the darkness of the forest. The sun had set several hours ago, and it was nearly midnight. The trees were encased in shadow and the faint moonlight cast an eerie glow over the grey parts of the forest. Everything looked more dead than you remembered before. The leaves were dry and withered looking and many of the flowers had wilted. The ground was so uneven that it took you and Pom several minutes to get used to walking together with the cloak. You had no idea if invisibility would be helpful or not; it depended on the creature’s senses.

There was a distant howl in the woods that sent a chill down your spine.

***

Loki raced out of his office and down the corridors, heading to the main floor. He burst through one of the east exits and cold air slapped his face as he rushed to the Forbidden Forest in the direction that he had seen the students on the Marauder’s Map. The magical map did not lie. When it showed names, those people were there.

He jogged across the field and approached the treeline of the Forbidden Forest. “I know you’re there, Darwish! Show yourself or risk expulsion!” Loki yelled over the wind.

A figure slowly emerged, hands up and face panicked. “Professor Laufeyson! Please don’t expel me. I was just standing guard!”

Loki glowered at the student. “Quit your whining, you mewling quim! Where are the other two?”

The student’s eyes widened as he stammered, “P-P-Pom and Freya went into the forest to find her brother.”

Loki’s expression nearly lost its composure in a fit of anger, but he forced it together. Through clenched teeth he said, “take yourself to the Headmistress, now! And tell her to wait to expel you until I return. If she - the girls are dead, then expulsion will be the least of your punishment, I promise you that.”

The boy nearly tripped on his way back to the castle, glancing back at Loki with a horrified face. Loki flicked his wrist and an orb of green light shot into the forest. He rolled his shoulders once and ran into the dark.

***

“Freya, did you hear that?” Pom said, her voice a small squeak.

The woods were cold and night had become foggy. You took her hand and rubbed the top of it as you ventured deeper into the forest. There were all sorts of creaks and snaps, hissing and buzzing. It was when the forest quieted down that you grew concerned. No crickets or owls; not even the sound of a scurrying mouse.

“Why is it so quiet?” You whispered.

A crash sounded from the bushes beside you, and you and Pom fell backwards as a young centaur screamed at the top of his lungs. The light brown horse half of his body had a frightful gash along the side, revealing parts of his intestines. A large black mass jumped from where the centaur came and landed on the creature.

“No! Please! Help me!” The centaur screamed.

You and Pom gagged at the sight as this larger creature snapped its jaws and bit down on the centaur’s throat. You wished you did not know the sound of a breaking neck, but that last crack was forever seared into your mind.

The creature was an enormous black haired wolf. It was thrice the size of any normal wolf you had ever seen. Its gums were blood red and its yellowish teeth were as long as your forearm. You shivered underneath the cloak and prayed that the centaur’s blood was enough to keep your scent away.

“Freya, we can’t do this, we have to leave, oh my god!” Pom said, wriggling away.

“Wait!” you said, pulling out our wand. “Homenum revelio!” A line of light shot from your wand and you felt a pressure just above you, as if something was leading you towards the left grove of trees.

You lifted Pom up by the hand and ran towards the trees, following the line of light. The creature was busy feasting on the unfortunate centaur as you slipped away. Beyond the grove of trees, there was an area that was covered in rock formations. Some dipped low and others created tricky hills to climb over. The spell led you down a steep rock into an area where several trees had been snapped in half and broken - no doubt by the monster you evaded. But just below a cracked log, the light of the spell disappeared.

A groan came from underneath the log. Your heart leapt. Pom shuffled away from you and ran towards the sound.

“Ken! Oh my god, Freya! It’s him!” Pom said, crying. She pulled out her wand and cast a levitation spell to remove the log from his body. His right leg was broken and his left arm was missing.

“Dear god, Ken,” you said, taking off the cloak.

“You...found..me...” he said in ragged breaths. The left arm that was missing had crystals of ice around the stump.

“He would’ve bled to death if you hadn’t frozen that,” you said.

A twig snapped, and you heard growling from between the trees. Your stomach dropped as Ken moaned. “Kill me, don’t let that thing get me, please! Just kill me now!”

Helping Pom lift him up, you waited until she was sure she could support his weight. “You two go, I’ll distract it.” You took the cloak and wrapped it around her and Ken.

Pom looked at you with tears in her eyes. “Freya, what if it gets you!”

“Just go!” You threw your arm out and shot red sparks between the trees, away from them.

The wolf shot through the bushes, soared above you, and landed between the trees in a vicious snarl. If you had hesitated even one more second, it would have found the three of you.

You climbed up and helped Pom lift Ken, who was trying to conceal his pain poorly. He mumbled and yelped, making all sorts of noise. “Get out of here and take him to the infirmary!”

The wolf howled as Pom and Ken escaped through the trees and you ran in the opposite direction. You heard the creature behind you and glanced over your shoulder as you saw it only a few feet away. The white of its teeth gleamed maliciously in the moonlight, and its mouth was stained with fresh blood. There was no way you would outrun that thing.

“Bombarda!” The ground exploded behind you in a hopeful effort to slow the wolf down. You jumped towards thicker sections of trees you thought were tight enough to protect you, but you heard them groan and give way to the gigantic wolf in a loud crash.

It growled behind you as you threw another exploding spell. This time, the creature dodged it and jumped up on the trunk of a large tree, gripping it with its long dextrous claws. You kept running and approached the bottom of a steep slab of stone covered in dark vines. It was too steep to climb. The wolf’s yellow eyes glowed as it eyed you with a crazed sort of hunger. It growled deep in its throat, ready to rush you.

You raised your wand, ready to deliver the killing curse, not even sure if it would work since you had never tried it. You knew they might send you to Azkaban for it, but you would rather die of a dementor’s kiss than be eviscerated like that centaur.

“Avada-” you said, and then your hand caught on something. A black vine twisted around the hand that your wand was in, which prevented you from moving.

The wolf jumped to the ground and stalked you slowly with what seemed to be a demented grin on its face. The gleam in its eyes now twinkled.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you said, struggling against the black vines and trying to untangle yourself with your free hand.

It opened its mouth, revealing a blood red tongue and horrible breath, and you wondered if this was the last thing you would ever see.

A green light whipped right past your face and the wolf was knocked off balance. You looked up and saw Professor Laufeyson with green fire blazing in his hands. You painfully slipped your hand out of the vine and ran to his side. “How did you find me?”

“I will answer your inquiries after we deal with a more pressing matter,” he said, throwing you a glare. The creature recovered and snarled at you and Professor Laufeyson.

It snapped its teeth, and drool fell from its lips. Professor Laufeyson raised his hands. “So, you’re Fenris, the dreaded beast of the Dark One,” he said, giving it a casual look. “Little smaller than I thought.”

It growled and lunged as Professor Laufeyson threw burning green balls of flame at it. It landed too close and swiped its massively sharp claws towards you. Professor Laufeyson shoved you aside and was knocked sideways against a tree.

“Professor!” you ran to his side and helped him sit up. The creature had raked two claws along his left side in deep wounds that stained half of his shirt with blood. His blood continued to flow at an alarming rate.

“Looks like I can’t get past the guard dog tonight,” he said with a pained laugh. “You might want to hold on, Miss Eves,” he said.

It occurred to you right away what he was going to do, and you immediately gripped his arm and felt your whole body twist around for a painful second as the wolf raised its claws again to strike you. One moment you were in the forest, and the next, you were in a dimly lit room.

You both swayed after Professor Laufeyson apparated you out of the forest. You recovered quickly, but Professor Laufeyson, on the other hand, swayed dangerously; nearly knocking over the nearby coat stand. You took him by the arm and led him to a four poster bed in the centre of the room.

“Are we in your room?” You said, realizing where you were.

He groaned, blinking several times. “Yes.”

You knelt in front of him and looked at his shirt; he was still bleeding profusely. “You need to get to the infirmary, you’re losing too much blood, sir.”

He shook his head lazily. “My shelf, bottom drawer...Blue vial...pour it on the wound…”

“What? I’m sure Volstagg will be a much better medic-”

“It’s poison. I need the antidote now,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt.

You ran to the shelf at the corner of the room and retrieved the vial. He laid back on his elbows, completely shirtless, and you told yourself this was no moment for leering. You glued your eyes to his wounds and poured the contents of the vial over them. He winced as the liquid bubbled over his wounds and hardened to a bluish coloured scab. The bleeding finally stopped. “Do you have bandages?” you said.

He nodded towards the shelf again and you opened several drawers, one of which contained a strange silver bowl with swirls of blue and white light. You closed that drawer and found the bandages in another.

You wrapped his abdomen in white gauze gently as he watched you quietly. Then, you left him to wet a cloth to clean the blood off. When you returned with the cloth, he was half sitting and half laying on the bed, fatigue in his eyes.

“Are you still dying?” you said, as you guided his head to the pillow.

His eyes closed, and he shook his head. “Sleeping...side effect….it’s fine.”

You smiled at his slurred speech and leaned over him to slip off his shoes. You brought the cloth to his chest and started to wipe the blood away, careful to not touch the covered wounds. After a few minutes, you thought he was asleep and turned to get up, when he grabbed you by the hand.

“Stay,” he said in a thick, sleepy voice.

Your heart fluttered as you stood there wondering what to do. His hand pulled on your arm and you nearly fell into bed beside him. You sat up against the headboard and he leaned away from his pillow until his head was in your lap. You sat there like a statue for several minutes, shocked. Only when his breathing evened out and he was truly asleep, could you relax. His head was warm on your lap and you wondered just how strong the side effects of that antidote were. His black hair was slightly greasy and matted, though it smelled quite wonderful, so you took your chance and lightly ran your fingers through it. It was utterly soft, and you nearly froze again when he snuggled closer in your lap and rubbed his face on your thigh with a tired sigh. Your body reacted with heat between your legs and you felt a rush of blood to your cheeks. This was certainly not the time to become a feverish mess, so you breathed in and out, calming yourself down.

You ran your hands over his hair in soft caresses and for that small moment, forgot anything you had to be worried about.

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yeenybeanies · 4 years ago

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the witcher | geralt of rivia & unnamed borrower

1,531 words

language warning

reblogs > likes!! thanks for reading!!

They’re scared. That’s nothing new. Geralt stares down at the rotten log in which the little being disappeared into. They stink of fear, and their tiny heartbeat buzzes in his ears.

Damn. No wonder why they’re scared: his observations, though not verbalized, make him sound like a predator.

“ You’re going to be found in there, ” he growls. “ By a dog, a bear, a cat. . . fuck, maybe a griffin. ” Not too far away, the Witcher had come across a mangled stagecoach, its driver and passengers torn apart and the horse gone without a trace. Of course, that likely meant that the griffin was full now, though he had his doubts that it would try to make a meal out of something so small even if it weren’t.

“ I’m no beast! ” Shouts a little voice, muffled slightly through the wood and the bark. Were it not for his augmented hearing, Geralt wouldn’t have thought it more than a mouse’s squeak. “ Leave me be! ”

“ What . . .? ” The Witcher blinks, confused. A beast? They thought he thought them a creature to be slain? “ I know you’re not. You’re a borrower. I have yet to find a reason to hunt your kind. ”

Funny creatures, the borrowers are. They’re surprisingly resilient, crafty, cunning. Not many know of their existence, but, as a Witcher, it’s Geralt’s job to know these things. It’s his job to notice the signs. It’s what led him to this little one. Their tiny tracks in the sand, scurrying from the carriage wreck, brought him to them. He also noticed a change in their tracks––a quickening shortly before they vanished into the log. He guesses they realized that they were not alone anymore on this road.

“ I know what you are too, ” they squeak. Their voice is moving through the log’s middle. Geralt’s eyes follow the sound. “ You’re a Witcher. You’re worse than the humans! Witchers hunt us down and snack on our bones! ”

Geralt rolls his eyes. Ridiculous tales of his kind do not originate exclusively from humans, it seems. “ Luckily for you, I’ve already had breakfast and a snack. I’m not craving borrower bones right now. ” He speaks with sarcasm, but his gruff, dry tone doesn’t carry it well. That heart somehow manages to buzz even faster. Geralt sighs. This isn’t any way to convince the little one to come out.

“ Look, ” he starts again, forcing his natural growl to ease, “ you were traveling with the couple in that carriage, right? The nearest town is at least two day’s walk away. Longer for you. I have a horse. ”

Silence, save for the heartbeat.

Well, he tried. Not everyone wants to be saved, let alone saved by a Witcher. Geralt drops his head in a moment of contemplation, then stands. He could set up camp here . . . but the corpses are bound to draw scavengers. That’s not something either of them needs.

“ Fuck. ” Geralt bends down and takes hold of the log, then hauls it up onto his shoulder. He catches their frightened yelp as their shelter is unceremoniously lifted. Still, he figures this is a slightly better alternative to ripping the log apart and digging them out of it.

Log in his hold and Roach in tow, Geralt starts walking along the path again. He grumbles quietly, lamenting the two day walk ahead. Hopefully the borrower would be willing to come out soon so they can continue on on horseback.

For better or for worse, the Witcher isn’t very chatty. He walks on in silence, carrying the log, until the sun approaches its nightly sink. They’re going to need to make a camp soon, him and the borrower. Well––mostly him.

It doesn’t take long for Geralt to find a suitable spot. He sets the log down semi-gently and turns to the camping materials on Roach’s saddle. As soon as his back is to the log, though, he hears a rapid scurrying. He looks up, staring out in front of him for a moment, then glances over his shoulder. It’s just a glimpse, but he does spot the little creature just before they dart behind a rock.

Foolish little welp. Geralt hums and returns to his task with a shake of his head. “ Remember the part about dogs, bears, cats . . . griffins? Here. ” He pulls a piece of jerky from his food stores and, after chomping off a bite for himself, tosses it in the borrower’s direction. Mouth full, he says, “ If you’re going to run off, at least eat something. That way, you’ll make a better meal for whatever’s going to catch you. ”

Camp doesn’t take long to set up. Practiced hands assemble the little tent and bedroll, get a fire going, and give Roach his nightly grain. Geralt notices once he settles that the jerky hasn’t been touched, but the borrower is still there. He can still smell them, can still hear them.

Lips twisted to the side, the Witcher approaches their rock and takes a knee before it.

“ What do you want from me? ” They speak before he has a chance to say anything, catching him off guard.

“ Nothing. I don’t think you have much to offer, even if I did want something, ” borrowers do have their uses, but Geralt isn’t looking to force a favor from the little being. He’s actively choosing not to dwell on why he’s helping.

“ Then why are you taking me with you? Why are you helping me? ”

Dammit. Geralt grimaces, a soft growl in his throat. “ Why are you asking so many questions? Don’t you think that, if I’d wanted to harm you, I would have just ripped you from that damn log instead of carrying it all this way? ”

They don’t respond. Geralt drops his head with a sigh, loose, silvery hair falling into his face.

“ Look. You won’t survive out here. I’m going to take you to the next town. Once we get there, I’ll leave you alone. You fare a far better chance around humans. ” He leans forward, peering over the rock just enough to see a tuft of fluffy, curly hair. “ Come by the fire. Eat. Get some sleep. We’ll reach town tomorrow. ”

He could just reach over and pluck them up from their hiding spot, but Geralt figures that would do more harm than good. No need to frighten them any more. That little body can only take so much torment. Instead, he retreats back to his spot in front of his tent and sits down heavily with a few more pieces of jerky.

The sun sinks and the moon rises. Geralt stares into the fire and lets his thoughts drift. For how long he isn’t sure, but he snaps back to the present when a tiny gasp reaches his ears. He looks up to see the borrower peeking out from their rock, eyes wide and locked on him. They still look frightened, which isn’t unusual. Geralt is used to people being scared of him. The scrap of jerky, he notices, isn’t there anymore; they must have grabbed it when he was zoned out. He pulls another piece and tears off a chunk. They shrink back a little when he leans forward to offer it, but don’t hide away entirely. That’s . . . progress.

“ Come here, little one. ” He shakes the offering to emphasize, and is surprised when the borrower slowly, tentatively steps out. They look ready to bolt if Geralt so much as breathes too hard, so he keeps himself steady, calm. They take it from his fingers and sit down a bit out of arm’s reach, munching away. It’s interesting how they watch the fire and steal occasional glances at the Witcher, like they don’t want to stare. Geralt shares no such sentiments.

Funny. They have better manners than he does.

What a sight he must be to the little one. A Witcher in the daytime can look frightening enough, but at night with the dramatic firelight illuminating his scars and his golden eyes, he must look monstrous. Geralt huffs at the thought.

Once the borrower has their fill of the jerky, they stash the rest in their tiny bag and curl in, hugging their knees to their chest. They look more resigned now than frightened, and exhausted––that is, until Geralt’s head snaps up sharply. He stares beyond the fire, into the darkness behind the borrower. The stink of fear kicks back in. The borrower looks over their shoulder, trying to discern what the threat is.

Geralt rushes forward. His hands close around the little being and yank them from the ground. A coyote’s teeth snap at the air where they’d been sitting just before. It all happens so quickly that the borrower doesn’t have time to react. Geralt snarls something ferocious, sending the coyote scurrying away. Once he’s sure it’s gone, he turns his attention to the borrower, who has now gone completely stiff in his hands. They look a little pale, shocked and utterly terrified. Whether it’s of him or of the coyote, he’s not sure. Perhaps it’s a bit of both.

“ Hmm. ” Well, better they be afraid and alive than calm and dead. Geralt kicks sand onto the fire to put it out. “ You’re sleeping in the tent tonight. ”

#the witcher #geralt of rivia #g/t #g/t fiction #g/t writing #g/t the witcher #hyena writes #i've had this ask forever #inspiration finally struck

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marshmallow-phd · 4 years ago

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Nine Little Letters

Genre: College AU, Fake Dating AU, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before AU

Inspired By: This graphic made by @rcse-tvler

Pairing: EXO x Reader

Summary: Just when you thought life was done shoving you down, it got much, much worse. After finding out that your latest crush was already in a relationship, you did what you always did when emotions ran high: you wrote a letter. Signed and sealed, you put it away with the eight other letters you’d written to past one-sided loves, never to be seen again. That is, until a mix up accidentally sends those letters out to their respective recipients and you find yourself in the middle of one confusing web of love. With fake relationships, insecurities, and revelations swirling around, things are bound to get a little messy.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11

You were walking on eggshells. Every time you turned around, you were sure you would be confronted by another past crush. The muscles in your neck were aching from constantly looking over your shoulder. The corner of your eye was haunted by cute boys ready to confront you on your deepest thoughts. For a whole day, you were able to avoid any of them. It was a nice Thursday. Then Friday came.

If you were to list the boys in an order of most to least wanting to evade, Junmyeon would be at the very top. Hence, you avoided the math building. Easy enough, you thought, since you only had one class there about twice a week. You made sure to get to Thursday’s class with only a minute or two to spare so you would have the excuse that you needed to hurry, then you hightailed it out of there to your next class. But your focus had been a little too honed in. While you were taking extra precautions to avoid your former tutor, you forgot to make good escape plans for the others.

“Hey, (y/n).”

You squeezed your eyes tight as you heard the seat across from you at the library table scrape across the thin, frayed carpet.

“I guess you know why I’m here then,” Jongdae said empathetically.

Slowly, you opened your eyes. Jongdae’s hands were folded on the table’s surface and the slightest crooked smile sat in the corner of his mouth. His hair was wet, either from a recent swim or a shower. The black strands were curled against his forehead. Smiling, he ran a hand through his hair, tiny little droplets splattering against the blonde wooden table top.

“I’m really sorry,” you mumbled, unable to hold eye contact for long.

Jongdae laughed. But it wasn’t an “at-you” kind of laugh. That was nice, at least. “I don’t know why you would be sorry. It was flattering. It's nice to be looked at as a hero, even though I didn’t really do anything.”

“High school brain tends to over exaggerate things.”

“I get that. I actually just wanted to say thank you and that it was sweet.”

“You weren’t supposed to see that.” Your go-to response these days. Like when the doctor hit your knee, it was reflex. “I left a pile of private letters out and my mom mailed them on accident. It’s like having your diary read into a microphone in front of an audience.”

Jongdae nodded. “I had a feeling. After the first few sentences, I figured I shouldn’t have gotten it, but I couldn’t stop reading. It’s been a while since someone confessed to me. Few years, actually.”

Your jaw dropped. “What? No. I can’t believe that.”

“It’s true, unfortunately.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll get another confession in the future.”

“Hopefully.” He looked around aimlessly before coming back to you. “Well, I’ll see you around. It was good to see you. Again.”

“You, too.”

You breathed deeply as soon as he was gone. Okay. That one went well. Three out of four were good odds. You were hoping to get out of this with at least a “B”. If Yixing ever wrote back you could simply… not open the letter. And if you avoided the others, you’d be in the clear. Yeah, this wasn’t so bad. You were still alive, at least, and with your true identity intact.

You felt a little lighter as you went home. Funny how it could feel like the world was falling apart but the sun still shined and the breeze still blew. As you dropped your bag on your bed, you got a text.

Get online.

Oh crap. You’d forgotten about Sehun. He knew you didn’t like talking on the phone, but you could talk to him over the headset. Don’t ask what the difference was, not even your irrational mind could come up with a reason. Sitting down in your chair, you turned on your console and connected to the internet.

“There you are.”

“I’m not in the mood to play today.”

“That's fine. You don’t have to play.” He killed your character as it stood around aimlessly as if to make a point.

You rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see it. “You are such a jerk.”

“That’s not what you said in the letter.”

“And there it is!” You couldn’t hold back the whimper echoing through the headset microphone. “I should have never done that. Writing love letters like I’m an Edwardian heroine… Because I’m not, obviously. But I don’t even know what I am instead.”

“Sad, lonely, pathetic?” There was a pause. “Yes, I said that out loud.”

You sat there, completely abashed. “Okay, I take back everything I said in that letter. You are such a jerk. I must have been hallucinating back then.”

“Don’t get so touchy,” Sehun said. “I thought about it once, too. That’s why I’d let you win every once in a while.”

“Really?” Well, that was a first. None of the others had mentioned possibly liking you back.

“Yeah, but then I thought about it some more. I like being your friend and didn’t want to experiment with that.”

And then you deflated like a bouncy castle. “I don’t know whether to feel flattered or insulted.”

“How about neither and I just send you the letter back?”

Okay. A compromise you could live with. And having that letter back would give you a small piece of mind. “I think I like that better.” The doorbell rang like a savior. “I got to go. But thanks for not making this a big deal.”

“Not a problem.”

You logged off and headed downstairs. Your mother, who you hadn’t realized was home, answered the door. You stayed on the staircase, out of sight but within earshot.

“Um, hi. Is (y/n) home?”

Your eyes widened and you nearly choked on the air in your throat. Chanyeol?

“I think so. (y/n)!”

Nope, nope, nope. You ran. Quietly. Like a mouse scurrying away before it could be seen by the resident cat. You went through the kitchen to the sliding glass door, opening it slowly so it didn’t make too much noise. Once through, you closed it behind you, barely hearing your mother call out for you again.

“Funny. I thought I heard her come home.”

Now what?

Your brain looked to the fence that separated your yard from your neighbor’s. That was your option. Keeping an eye on the back door, you climbed over the wooden fence, dropping down on the grass. You sat there figuring five minutes or so would be enough time for him to leave. Eyes closed, you leaned your head back against the wooden barrier. Apparently, you weren’t as brave as you thought you were. Even with the easy confrontations, you still ran like a coward the first chance you got.

“What are you doing?”

Your eyes snapped open. Crap. You’d momentarily forgotten who your neighbor was. “Sorry!”

Kyungsoo huffed from the porch. He leaned on the railing, forearms exposed from his rolled up sleeves. He was frowning at you again, but this time it didn’t seem to be from a place of annoyance as much as confusion. “You say that a lot.”

“I know,” you agreed. “I’m sorry.” You flinched. Nice one.

A few seconds went by before he came down the porch steps. He crouched down in front of you. “If this is about the letter….”

“It's not! Well, not about your letter.”

“You sent out more than one?” You nodded. He smirked. “Well, that makes me feel a little better.”

It made him feel better? Like your letter had made him… upset? He didn’t seem to be worried about you at all when he gave it back. “I’m just waiting for him to leave,” you explained. “I’ll get out of your hair soon.”

The expected response was that he would simply shrug and leave you alone. But instead he sat down across you, knees up with his elbows resting on them. It was odd. Even before he and Yeonhee broke up, he didn’t have one on one conversations with you like this. “Why did you write the letter?”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Why did you bother writing it if I was dating Yeonhee?”

“I….” You threw your hands up as if you could suddenly catch the answer. “It’s how I work out my feelings. When I found out the two of you were dating, I was… confused, scrambled. Some people journal to figure things out, I… write a letter. A letter that was never meant to go out in the first place. All it was supposed to do was help me work through my thoughts, help me understand my feelings when they’re too strong for me to grasp.”

“If you felt that way about me, why didn't you say anything before Yeonhee?”

“I think it goes without saying that I'm not good at verbally expressing my feelings,” you stated flatly. “Besides, I thought I had time. You know, to figure out what it was I was actually feeling. I didn’t realize why I enjoyed seeing you until it was too late. I never suspected that the two of you liked each other.”

“Really?”

“I'm kind of oblivious to things like that.”

A short laugh. “That’s true.”

You heard a car door shut and then an engine roar to life before fading away. Part of you didn’t want to leave, but being here, alone with Kyungsoo and talking to him like this, was dangerous. “I think the coast is clear.” You stood up and Kyungsoo followed through. “Thanks for, um, letting me hide out here.”

“Sure.”

You turned to the fence, examining how you could get back over.

“(y/n)?”

"Yeah?”

“You could just go this way." Kyungsoo opened the gate that led to the front yard.

“Right. Probably the better idea.” Once out of the backyard, you looked at Kyungsoo. Your heart was beating hard in your chest. “Have a goodnight.”

“You, too.”

Back inside, you didn’t bother to be quiet or sneaky. Your mother was sitting at the table, papers spread out all over the surface in an order that only she could understand.

“Hi, sweetie!” she greeted. “A classmate stopped by for you. Chanyeol, I think?”

“Oh, okay. I’ll give him a call.” An absolute lie, but… whatever. You headed up the stairs and grabbed your bag. You needed to get away for a few hours.

The ice rink was your mindful place. Well, your second mindful place, that is. The first was the library. Whenever you needed to not think for a while, you went there to find a new book to lose yourself in. Whenever you did need to work through your less extreme thoughts, you came here, to the rink. The cold made you hyper aware of your surrenders and of yourself. Your feet did all the work while your mind was free to problem solve. Given the time of day, there weren’t too many people here. Good. That meant the ice wouldn’t be too crowded. Only a few divots and scratches decorated the white surface. You zipped up your jacket and started lacing up your boot.

“I wouldn’t really have suspected you to come to a place like this.”

Your head snapped up.

Leaning up against the railing that separated the bleachers from the walkway around the rink, Kim Minseok smiled up at you.

Captain of the soccer team, he was a bit of a hero around the university. A handful of last-minute wins were taken because of him. How many championships had he led the team to? You wouldn’t necessarily say that people at school fawned over him as he walked the halls. It was too large a campus for that. Not to mention, he wasn’t extremely tall and there were certainly others that could be considered more handsome. There were, however, several large posters around the stadium and halls that featured the team, Minseok front and center. An image that didn’t fit what you saw. He mostly wore clothes that said he could have just left the gym or be on his way there. His laid back attitude on his elevated status was part of what led him to being letter number seven.

The thing about that letter was the fact that there was no one incident that led to your need to write it. He was always simply… nice to you. He knew your name from a shared history class your first year of college. In passing, if he saw you, he’d wave before going back to whatever conversation he’d been having before. You weren’t quite invisible to him, but you certainly rotated on the very outskirts of his vision.

“Why do you say that?” you asked as you straightened up.

He shrugged, hands still hanging lazily over the rail. “You never seemed like the athletic type.”

“I didn’t realize that people had to look a certain type to ice skate.”

“Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it.” Climbing over the rail with a smoothness that was inhuman, he ran up the steps and took a seat next to you. You stared at him with confusion. “Don’t be like that. We both know why I’m here.”

“How did you even know I was here?”

“Your mom told me.”

Traitor. “I’m getting real sick and tired of being confronted by this. I never should have left those stupid letters out.” You never should have written them in the first place. You wished you could go back to your younger self and warn her. Hopefully, she would take your advice.

“I’m not surprised that I’m not the only one who came to talk to you. Although, I’ll admit, when your mom mentioned the fact that I was the second guy to show up at your house today, my ego took a little hit.”

You gave him an unimpressed side-eye. “I think you’ll survive.”

“So, which one do you actually like?” he asked suddenly.

You blinked at him. “What?”

“Jongdae explained everything to me. He said you mentioned a pile of letters so I figured it was more than just me and him.”

“Jongdae told you everything?” Why would he do that?

“Yeah. He’s my best friend so we don’t really keep secrets. Although, I didn’t tell him that I was a little jealous that he got a letter for pulling you out of a pool. Much more romantic than mine was.”

Groaning in frustration, you dropped your face into your hands in a pathetic attempt to hide. It was either that or wack this boy who was showing a new side of himself to you with the rubber cover of your skate. You figured the latter option would be a bad example for the small kids running around.

Minseok patted your back. “Hey, it's okay. Don’t be so embarrassed. I am still curious, though. Of all the people you sent letters out to, who do you actually like?”

“No one.” You weren’t going to spill your guts to Kim Minseok. You had Baekhyun for that. Soccer star had no business knowing your heartache over your neighbor.

“No one? Interesting.”

You lifted your head to look at him with narrowed eyes. “What do you mean interesting?”

“Well, that was kind of the answer I was hoping for. Sort of.”

This was not how you pictured this conversation going. You figured it would be like the rest. A simple “thank you but no thank you” had been the typical response. None of the others cared if you liked the other recipients. “Why is that?”

“I have a proposal.”

“Oh-kay….”

Minseok turned towards you. “Hear me out. So, I was seeing this girl, Libby. But we broke up. Well, I broke up with her.. And now she’s seeing someone else.”

“So, you suddenly want her again?” Typical. Why did couples always try to make the other one jealous? It sounded like a teen drama you wanted to steer clear from.

“No. The opposite. She’s only dating this guy to try and make me jealous. She’s always flaunting him in front of me, as if that would actually work.”

Okay…. Now you were even more confused. “I don’t see how I come into play.”

Minseok cringed. “Don’t freak out, okay?”

Oh, no. “I make no promises.”

“She knows that you had a crush on me.”

“WHAT!” Oh, you were dead. So dead. Cause: humiliation. Perhaps you could walk around the campus with a disguise on? Surely the security guards wouldn’t mind. There was always the witness protection option. Now it seemed even more appropriate. “She knows about the letters?”

“No, not about the letters,” he reassured you with a hand on your thigh. You quickly shoved it away. “Sorry. No, she just overheard Jongdae and I talking about the liking me part. Still made her mad because she thought I might like you back. So I started thinking, if she thinks that I’ve moved on, eventually she’ll leave me alone.” He looked at you like all of that should have made sense.

“I still don’t get it.”

He sighed. “I’m asking you to be my fake girlfriend.”

The snort could not be contained. “What are we? In high school? Tell her to back off! Or avoid her. You don’t have to make up a relationship to be a grownup about this.”

“I have. It hasn’t worked. Please? It would only be for a short time.”

You mulled the offer over in your head. It didn’t sound too bad. On paper, that is. Putting on a show that you were someone’s girlfriend shouldn’t be hard. And, maybe it would help you forget about your troubles. But… you didn’t want your first relationship to be fake.

“No,” you answered. “I’m not interested. Sorry.”

That was not the answer he was expecting. “Come on. If word gets out that we’re dating, then the other guys you wrote letters to might back off.”

“I’ve already talked to most of them,” you said. “It’s not that big of a deal.” Lie. But he didn’t need to know that. “Good luck with your ex.”

You went to stand on your skates, reaching out in front to hold on to the railing. Your mind, however, was in a hundred different places, which set your balance off. You wobbled and nearly fell back onto the bench. Minseok caught you before that could happen, saving your butt a world of hurt. He chuckled as he helped you regain your balance.

“If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” He sent you a wink and left you leaning against the railing. You scoffed to yourself as you watched him walk towards the exit.

Staying where you were, you tried to wrap your head around Minseok’s proposal. How he could have even come to that kind of solution to his own problem was beyond you. What sense did that make? You shook your head and carefully stepped onto the floor. You needed this time now more than ever. Men were so confusing.

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thelostexperiment · 3 years ago

Text

It had been about a year after The Last Adventure and F.O.W.L's desertion of the Lost Library of Alexandria. All that was left with the massive monolith of ancient knowledge, standing as tall as ever in the middle of a raging sandstorm. It was still full of both artifacts of the past and state of art, modern tech from the renovations of F.O.W.L all left to gather dust. For the most part the entire library was devoid of life, with the exception... of a young female duck dressed in classic adventurer's gear.

She roamed the halls, apprehensive of her surroundings while shining her flashlight down every passageway and dark corner she passed. Occasionally she'd call out if anyone else was there, even if she wasn't sure if she wanted an answer back.

"Sweet Salin, this place is creepy." She muttered to herself with a southern drawl in her voice.

It wasn't long before she entered a huge expansion of the library with thousands of empty cells lining the walls as far as her eyes could see, or at least as far as her flashlight could show.

"And who or what the heck were all these used for?" She said in awe, as she walked through the massive room, making slow twirls to get a full 360 view of the room. She suddenly stepped on something hard and the 'crunch' made gave her a start. She found that her foot was standing on the barrel of a strange looking broken gun with a cracked crystal in it sparkled at her when she shined her light on it. She decided to quicken her pace through the room after that, but this time being more mindful of where she stepped.

After turning a few more corners and going down a few more corridors, she found herself in the medical section of the library. Maybe there could be something helpful here? She certainly hoped so. The inside seemed like a typical infirmary; cost, chairs, medical equipment and tools, some curtains, it reminded her a lot of the nurse's office at her school. Except the motivational posters on the nurse's wall didn't say–

"Don't give up!

Because not even your God(s) can save you if you fail us.

~F.O.W.L."

At least the kitten on the poster was cute... After pulling aside a curtain in the back area of the room, she noted that her school nurse didn't have two huge empty stabilization tanks in the back. Now this looked more like a sci-fi movie to her and she hoped there wouldn't be any experiments running around. Well, all she could do now was to investigate further, which led her to the back storage room of the infirmary.

She was able to jimmy the door open with her pocket knife, and as soon as she did a mouse scurried past her. The sudden movement made her jump back with a yelp before she released what it was, then felt silly as she watched the cute little guy skitter out of sight. She couldn't help but laugh at herself a little as she entered. It was a large space (not nearly as big as the cell room, though), with large crates and boxes full of medical supplies and dust all over everything.

As she went further in she noticed through the dark, a dim red light flashing against the very back wall behind a huge stack of crates. Curiosity took her to what was causing the light, which was a rather old looking computer screen attached to what looked like another stabilizing machine. Only this one wasn't as modern as the other two, the tank was slanted vertically and it wasn't empty, the fogged glass obscured whatever was inside, but she could see the silhouette of... something.

"Oh... I don't like that…" said the young duck as she looked at the machine with wide eyes, and slowly reached over her shoulder and grabbed the walking stick that was attached to the side of her backpack to bring it forward as a weapon.

Cautiously, she approached the monitor that was flashing in all big red caps, "ERROR!", and tapped the 'entire' key on the keyboard under it. The screen cleared and turned blue, but then another line of text appeared.

"Cooling unit disabled… Emergency thaw in progress…"

A loading bar appeared under the text. It was almost full…

"Aw, I really don't like that!" She exclaimed as panic settled into her heart. Even though she didn't know exactly what was behind that glass, but she'd seen enough old horror movie tropes to know this couldn't be good. Maybe it could be fixed? She tried what little she knew to override the computer, but couldn't get past the password. Then searched the thing over, frantically hoping to find the problem, and there it was. A large cable running from the machine to the wall had been gnawed through… by mice… and some of the wires were chewed to bits.

Well, there wasn't much she could do now. She took a few steps back and raised her walking stick at the ready as the loading bar reached 100%. The inside of the tank lit up, with a 'pop' and loud 'hiss' the door to the hatch of the tank cracked open, the duck readied herself to smack whatever was coming out, and—!

Nothing...

After a few seconds of holding her attack, the confused duck used her would-be weapon to push the hatch open all the way without getting near it. To her bafflement, mist poured out of the machine and cleared away to reveal an old man... Just an old balding vulture in a black suit and tie, probably sleeping...?

The unexpected twist of the situation made the young duck tilt her head and let out a– "Huh…"

All that fuss over some old guy.

She rested her stick on the ground and approached him casually this time to get a better view of him. She couldn't really tell if he was alive or not just by looking at him. If he was breathing it was very slight. She grabbed the vulture's to check his pulse, it was ice cold to the touch, but she could feel something very faint.

"Hey, Mister, you alright?" She asked as she tapped the end of his beak with the index finger of her other hand to wake him.

This did cause him to stir as his face scrunched a little from the tapping and his eyes started to blink open. The young woman stepped back as the old buzzard sluggishly drudged himself upright with a long groan that morphed into a loud yawn. She patiently waited for him to fully wake before she spoke up again.

"Well, hello there!" she said gregariously which snapped his attention towards her.

"H-hello?" He hesitantly replied in a low gruff voice as he titled his head in visible confusion, in an attempt to actually see who he was talking to.

Suddenly, the possibility of finally getting some answers about this place sparked some excitement in the young duck, especially since this old man didn't seem particularly dangerous.

"Alright, so my name's Susan Spruce, and I found this place after my plain got caught in a sand storm and kind of crash landed, and it so nice to meet you, because the place is a bit creepy by myself, and it's great to finally find someone who knows about this place. So what's your name?"

She spoke all this in a rapid fire manner, meanwhile this poor old buzzard was still struggling to see, and as he tried to lean in to get a better look at Susan his hand felt a small pair of glasses lying next to him. He picked them up and started looking through them just as she finished with her question.

"I...uh," he put the glasses on his beak, finally, he could see, "I don't know..."

That was definitely not an answer she was hoping for and the spark in her smile started to wane a bit. "Aheh… Okay, uh… how'd you get here?"

"I don't know." he repeated flatly this time.

"Well… is there anything you can tell me about yourself?... or this place…?" She asked a bit more pleadingly.

Now he was starting to get a little irritated and it showed by the look he was giving her. He straightened himself a little, cleared his throat and said calmly, "Alright, I'll tell you, but this is very important and I'm only going to say this once so you need to listen very carefully." Susan nodded, giving her full attention to him as he cleared his throat again.

"I."

"Yeah!?"

"Don't."

"Uh-uh…"

"Know."

"..." At this point she was just as annoyed as he was and it showed by the look she was giving him back, which did make him smile. Although to be fair, she'd be a bit sassy too, if a stranger started asking her questions as soon as she woke up. She stooped down to pick up her walking stick with a disheartened sigh, "Well, sorry for buggin' you then."

The old vulture took her apology as a 'goodbye', and not really wanting the only other person here to leave yet, he attempted to walk.

"Wait, don—!" The instant his feet hit the ground his legs buckled under his weight and he began to drop. The only reason he didn't face plant onto the floor was Susan jumping towards him propping him back up, and helped lean him against the machine that served as his bed for who knows how long for stability.

"Here," she said, offering him her stick, "you need this more than I do right now."

He took it with a humbled, "Thank you." A small glasses case fell out of his inner coat pocket and clattered on the floor as he used the walking stick to straighten his stance, which Susan was quick to pick up.

"Oh, hey!" she chimed as she got a good look at it, "I found your name!"

She handed the little case back to him and he read the gold print on black leather.

"B. Buzzard "

"Huh…" was all he had to say before tucking the case back into his pocket.

"Well, I guess welcome to the future, Mr. Buzzard." Susan Greeted, this wasn't what she expected to find in an ancient library, but she was glad for the company.

#dt 2017 #f.o.w.l.#OCs #muses #Susan Spruce #Mr. Buzzard #bradford buzzard #Bradford clones #Lost Library of Alexandria #Beginning drabble

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allycryz · 4 years ago

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WOL Challenge #3: You

[Prompt List Here]

[Filled Prompt List Here]

Haurchefant x Nerys, set immediately after Ardent [Ao3 Link]

Heavensward, right after Inquisition trial and before “Keeping the Flame Alive”

Rating: T for off-screen sex, sex talk

~*This is 2K words, most of it is fluff and I revel in it*~

The Fortemps library is a grand one. Haurchefant is not certain how it compares–he has only been in Haillenarte's with Francel–but imagines it is the finest in Ishgard. His father is a man of letters, a true believer in the power of words. And one who expected his sons to follow suit.

His education differed greatly from his brothers’ the day he became a knight’s page. Even still, his lord father sent him monthly parcels of books. He was expected to read them all and send detailed reports on the contents. Had he ever kept up his thaumaturgy studies, he would have been hard-pressed to find the time.

As it was, he’d stayed up often to fit in the poetry and novels not on the list. Count Edmont was a modern man and his syllabus reflected this–vetted popular authors and poets made it into the parcels. Never in the quantity Haurchefant would have liked. And never some of the one-gil books he bought in The Pillars.

When he was a boy, there were songs for sale about body functions and noises; exaggerated tales of heroes fighting all manner of beasts and foes. As a youth, these became long, violent epics of battles and bravery. As a young man: lurid poems and explicit romance novels. Some as grand and sweeping as the classical romances his Father promoted. Some were not.

He has managed to introduce some contemporary poets into the collection. Not all. Edmont’s tastes in poetry run more traditional. Some of the rising stars of the field are roundly rejected.

Haurchefant is working on that.

Today, he feels romantic in both classic and literal senses. And as his Father has ordered him to stay for a day and night, indulging in a novel sounds just the thing. It seems that getting trapped in a blizzard–even if things had gone fine, more than fine–means your noble father turns to such decrees.

At least, that is what it means now they are growing close, as they never had been. Another miracle Nerys has wrought with her coming. And as Haurchefant has full faith in Corentiaux and the rest...he allows himself to be thus ordered.

Someone else is in the library. He can sense it soon as he enters. A soldier learns to tell when others are near, even in safe environs such as this. Haurchefant softens his footfalls, peering about the shelves. There, in the alcove reserved for study, he finds the source of today’s romantic mood.

Nerys looks up, eyes turning soft. His heart swells in his chest, his mouth cannot help but smile. It’s unstoppable and he does not ever want it to cease. Was it really only yesterday? That she told me my love was returned?

It seems a dream now, albeit the sweetest one he has ever had.

Her hands sweep at the papers she has laid out, pulling them into a stack. Flips over the one on top. “Hello.”

“Hello, my dear.” How nice to call her that. “I thought you were on a shopping expedition with Emmanellain?”

“I was.” She touches her neckline. So caught up in her eyes, he hadn’t noticed the gown she wore.

Scarlet as the unicorn on his shield, set off with dangling garnets in her ears. The heart-shaped neckline shows off her elegant neck and collar bones. The sleeves are slashed to reveal white fabric beneath and the cuffs have delicate pearls. “I found this. For when I’m here at the manor and not about to fight Inquisitors or dragons.”

“You are breathtaking in it.” He circles the table to take her hand. Bows over it before pressing his mouth to her knuckles. Etiquette demands he should kiss the air above it but surely exceptions are made for lovers.

She is my lover now, he thinks in wonder. Her cheeks stain with a fetching indigo shade. “My lord is kind.”

Haurchefant drops to one knee before his lady and turns her hand. Her palm is just as lovely to kiss. “Your lord means everything he says. But if you require further proof of my ardor…”

Nerys darts a glance about before tilting up his chin. Her kiss is sweet and soft and not a little heated. Would that he might lay her upon the table in this temple of learning and know her better.

Alas, Nerys has asked for discretion. Time to better acquaint themselves as lovers before declaring themselves. They are still friends–always will be, if he has anything to do with it–but this dynamic is new and strange. Haurchefant can understand why the most public figure in Eorzea might want some measure of privacy.

Though, he reflects as he parts from her. Half the fun would be keeping quiet and avoiding discovery.

“I know that look,” she says. “You’re thinking of something lascivious.”

“When I had this look before I confessed, what did you think it meant?”

“The same,” she admits. “But that your love of innuendo was good-natured teasing.”

He heaves a sigh. Either he is not as obvious as Estinien always accuses him or she’d been in deep, deep denial. “Dearest love, how-”

The library doors bang open and the culprit whistles as he walks inside. Haurchefant rises, knowing exactly who it is before he comes into view.

“Old Girl! Old Man!” Emmanellain grins. “You didn’t tell me we were having a party in the library.”

“Impetuous Youth,” Haurchefant shoots back. “What if one of us was deep in study?”

“Oh I don’t deal in ‘what-ifs’. You two are having a conversation, not studying; ergo all is well.”

“He has a point. I think,” says Nerys. “By the by, if Haurchefant is ‘Old Man’, what do you call your eldest brother?”

The two men exchange looks. Smile. Say in unison, “Artoirel.”

Nerys groans and flaps both hands at them in dismissal. “Go fetch whatever you two were looking for. I am actually working on something.”

“Am I to be banished for my baby brother’s crimes?” Haurchefant presses a hand to his heart. “Mistress Eluned, you wound me.”

“If I must be quiet and meek like a mouse, so must you. After all, I am the true leader of our brotherly trio.”

“You are right of course. I could never compare to you.” Haurchefant shakes his head. “Very well, Impetuous Youth. As mice scurry to cheese, let us go to the books we seek.”

“Ordered to seek,” Emmanellian mutters. “I’m to review Ymbelet’s Theorem of Command and deliver a report. As if we hadn’t put our schooling well behind us.”

Haurchefant does his best to soothe his brother. They quiet down at last: the younger man taking his volume off to his chambers, the elder settling into an armchair within eyesight of Nerys. (Far enough away that she may stop hiding her work.)

His novel is a work of popular fiction he’d garnered approval to stock here. No erotic scenes, but romantic enough. Should he ever get his eyes to stay on the page.

Alas, the white-haired sorcerer-king and his beloved princess and his soul-eating sword are no match for the Warrior of Light. The curve of her cheek. The braided coronet of purple and white hair, crowning her while the rest of her curls are a lovely raiment over her shoulders. The quirk to her dark, sweet lips.

She lifts those golden eyes, meeting him. If he were not already lovestruck and bedazzled, that gaze would ensnare him. He smiles and lifts his shoulders in a helpless shrug. Haurchefant isn’t sorry for lingering before a sunset; and that natural wonder is naught in comparison.

“My lord,” says Nerys, her voice carrying. “May I help you?”

“Nay, Mistress.” He shakes his head. “Simply exist as you are and I am satisfied.”

That is when Alphinaud bursts in, looking drawn and pale. If Haurchefant is annoyed at another interruption, that vanishes at the sight. He jumps to his feet. “My lad! Are you alright?”

The youth shakes his head. “Nerys. Tataru has grave news about General Aldynn. We must be off at once.”

She rises, hurrying over in a rush of white and red silk. In an instant she has changed from playfulness to resolute determination. Always ready to become The Warrior, his Nerys.

“Do you require anything?” He asks them. “You know my sword is yours, as is any resource at our disposal.”

Alphnaud shakes his head. “No one must see us enter Thanalan or leave. As soon as we cross back into Coerthas, we’ll send word.”

“I thank you. If you needs must bring the General somewhere safe, Camp Dragonhead’s doors are open to you.” If he must return to his command rather than fight at her side, at least he might be of some use to her. He loves–truly loves–his role but lately, his dearest wish is to be a shield at her back and a sword in her arsenal.

Ah, well, even Sorcerer-Kings do not get all they want. Why should he?

He dips into a sweeping bow to them both. Alphinaud returns it before rushing out, every emotion writ upon his usually perfect diplomat’s mask. Should the General die, the youth will carry it as he does everything else that occurred with the Braves. Haurchefant sends a prayer to Halone, asking for mercy on him.

Nerys takes his hand. Squeezes it. He squeezes it back. She smiles before picking up her skirts and rushing afterward.

It proves impossible to focus after that, even more than before. For a moment he entertains armoring up and following. This isn’t Dragonhead and so none of the knights with orders to keep him safe are here. (That time with Iceheart, Corentiaux had actually sat upon him.)

But they have asked he stay behind. So he will.

Haurchefant can take care of Nerys’ papers for her. He means to pointedly not look at the contents. He truly does. But he sees a piece of paper with his name on top, another with his last name, and his resolve crumbles.

The first piece of paper is titled “Minako” in large, neat letters. Beneath are names like Mamoru, Umino, Motoki. Her Yellow Chocobo is named Minako. Therefore, this is for…

The next sheet of paper confirms his suspicions. Under the heading “Black Chocobo” are the names Endymion, Starlight, Twilight, Onyx. Below that, a subheading “Elegance” with virtue monikers: Noble, Dignity, Charming.

And so, when he arrives to the last three papers (titled “Haurchefant”, “Greystone”, and “Fortemps”), he cannot contain his joy. The little note scribbled atop “Haurchefant” tickles him further. He gave you the Chocobo and you adore him. Will he be offended? He might be offended.

Haurchefant is certainly not offended.

He delights in the candidates, even some of the ones she crossed out. Sadly, there is no option for “Haurchefant” or “Haurchefant II.” I suppose that might get confusing.

Grinning, he picks up her leather folio and tucks her work inside. Hopefully, she will forgive his snooping because he has some ideas about this.

The Lord Commander’s bed at Camp Dragonhead may be the most comfortable place in Eorzea.

Nerys should get up to clean, brush her teeth, all the little nighttime rituals. But she is so pleasantly exhausted and the blankets are so soft and warm. She stretches, luxuriating in the feel of them against her skin. It has been a harrowing few days since her abrupt departure from Ishgard. But all is well and now, she feels nothing but comfort.

The bed could be warmer with her companion. But then she wouldn’t get to see his bare bottom as he slips into the bathroom. Halone must adore him to bless him with such a lovely rear.

“My love,” he calls after a while. “I have a confession to make.”

“Oh? Should I be worried?”

“I hope not.” He returns with a washcloth, his black silk robe barely closed against the cold. The fireplace sends flickers of light across his sculpted chest. “I may be overstepping but...I must say that I truly adore the name Grey. Though Tempsy is charming. Also, may I suggest Haurchon?”

What does he...oh. Oh! Nerys groans and buries her face in a pillow. She had been in such haste to rescue Raubahn–rightfully so!–that she had left all her papers there. All face up, all in the open.

The mattress dips as Haurchefant sits beside her. One hand strokes her hair, gentle and sweet. “I should not have pried but Nerys–my dearest one–I am utterly and truly touched by the idea. Though of course, if you pick a different name I will not be offended.”

“I only...well, I wouldn’t have him if not for you,” she mutters into the pillow, heat filling her face. “And if not for him, we wouldn’t have been in Coerthas that day.”

“So we owe him a great honor, for bringing us together at last.” His lips press against her bare shoulder. “Of course, the truest honor would be to name him after yourself-”

She turns then, mortification at last leaving her. Cups his face in her hands. “I am not playing this game where we go on for hours about who is better. Let’s agree it’s you and end it there.”

“Oh my love,” he sighs, bending down to her. “Though you are wrong, I must obey if it proves to you the depth of my regard.”

“I know another way you could prove it,” she says, pulling him atop her.

Grey likes his name.

#seaswolchallenge #nerys eluned #haurchefant greystone #haurchefant x wol #emmanellain de fortemps #Alphinaud Leveilleur #they're cute!#I love them #I love writing him when he's in love #and he is so often in love #:3 #ally writes

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cadence-talle · 4 years ago

Text

Dream of Endless Shadow

a dark!Tam AU, written to go along with @lemontarto‘s dark!Tam drawing. Make sure to go look at it if you haven’t seen it yet!

Wordcount: 2,274

Trigger warnings: Death, non-graphic violence

Taglist: @everyonehasthoughts, @clearlykeefitz, @loverofallthingssmart, @a-lonely-tatertot, @enbies-and-felonies, @molly-sencen, @lemontarto, @appalyneinstitute1, @ruewen-and-rising, @silver-snow, @linhamon-roll, @hyperlollypop, @never-ever-too-many-fandoms, @keeper-of-the-lost-queers, @impostertamsong, @vibing-in-the-void, @yeetersofthelostcities, @mistythegirlfluxmess, @diamond-dreamerr, @we-have-no-bananas-today, @an-absolute-travesty

Laughter floats through the air and up a sweeping cliff, gathering around a pair of figures standing at the edge. Linh glances back at her brother, hair pulled back into a low ponytail. She’s smiling- she’s always smiling. Tam wonders sometimes how she can be so happy, looking at all they’ve lost.

“Come on,” she says, holding out a hand. “You’ll be fine.”

Tam quirks an eyebrow. “You can’t guarantee that.”

Linh raises a hand in the air, and the water below them rises with it, a huge shimmering bubble. She grins at Tam.

“Yes I can. Just jump.”

The sun beats down on his back as Tam stares down at the ocean. It’s safe- he knows it’s safe, but he can’t stop his fear. Linh is always the brave one, anyway.

She charges ahead while Tam stays behind, rushing around corners before he’s made sure it’s safe. He doesn’t understand, really- how she can be so happy, so fearless, so Linh.

“Come on,” Linh says again, grabbing his hand. “On three, okay? One…”

She’s amazing.

“Two…”

She’s powerful.

“Three!”

And Tam knows that they’ll be fine as long as she’s by his side.

He takes a deep breath and jumps.

-/-

Tam glares down at the dark streets of Atlantis, eyes tracking barely-visible figures on the ground below. He could probably see better if he dispersed the shadows, but that would blow his cover- and besides, he can see well enough.

Well enough is pretty much all he’s getting, these days. He can see well enough, he can sleep well enough, he’s eating well enough.

Well enough isn’t good, of course, but Tam doubts he’ll ever be good again.

Finally, the person he’s looking for exits the shop underneath him. Tam was a little surprised when he found Ruy Ignis in a flower shop in Atlantis, but he supposes it makes sense; it’s not like anyone knows what he looks like. Tam only recognized him by his voice, and even that took a couple visits to figure out.

Ruy turns the corner and enters an alleyway to the side of his shop, humming something under his breath. With a quiet grunt, Tam wraps shadows around the man and drops to the ground a few feet away. Ruy makes a sound of surprise and summons a forcefield.

“What-”

Tam releases the shadowflux he’s been holding in his hands, and it slinks through the forcefield to wrap around Ruy’s neck, hovering just a few inches above the skin. The man’s eyes go wide as he scrambles to get away. Tam clenches a fist and it moves closer to Ruy, shrinking little by little until it’s a hair away from the skin.

He chose shadowflux not because it was easy for him, but because it hurt. Tam wants this man- all of the Neverseen, really- to feel pain, to feel what he’s been feeling for days now. This hurt, this ache, always there but never healed. Not really. Tam forces the shadowflux closer, and-

“Tam!”

Sophie and Biana rush into the alley, both clad in dark tunics and capes. Biana has a throwing star in her hand, but she’s not looking at Ruy- she’s staring right at Tam.

“What are you doing here?” Tam growls, relaxing his hands just enough to let Ruy breathe. Sophie narrows her eyes at him.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she says. “Where have you been, Tam? We’ve been worried sick!”

“I’ve been out,” Tam replies. “I’m fine.”

“Right,” Biana says slowly. She turns to Sophie. “Can you bring Ruy back to the Black Swan? I’ll stay here.”

Sophie nods, shooting Biana a quick smile before grabbing Ruy’s arm and leaping away. Biana turns to Tam.

“This is what you’re up to?” she asks. “Trying to kill people?”

“They deserve it,” Tam answers. Biana shakes her head.

“Maybe so, but we don’t do that, Tam. We don’t kill. If we do-” her voice breaks slightly, and Tam can tell they’re remembering the same thing. “We’re just as bad as them.”

“Then I guess I’m bad.” Tam responds, curling the shadowflux back into his palms. He sighs. “I just want to avenge her, Bi. I want to- to destroy them as much as they destroyed me. As much as they destroyed her.”

“Linh wouldn’t want-”

“Don’t pretend like you know her!”

Biana takes a step back, eyes wide. Tam only realizes how loud he’s shouted after the fact. “You didn’t know her,” he adds more quietly. “No one knew her like I did.”

“Maybe not,” Biana says slowly. “But I still loved her. She was amazing. Kind, talented, fierce.” She looks at Tam, staring straight into his eyes. “She wouldn’t have wanted you to be sad. She would have wanted you to keep living, not take other lives away.”

“I-” Tam shakes his head. “No. I can’t. I have to- to do this.” To do anything, he adds in his head. Biana lets out a long breath.

“Okay. Just- promise me you’ll be safe, okay? You shouldn’t have to die for her.”

“I know,” Tam says, because he does. “I promise.”

It might not be a promise he can keep.

-/-

This was supposed to be standard.

They’d received word of trolls being attacked in the woods off Brackendale- and while, of course, no one had gotten hurt, Sophie had decided to check it out anyway. Something’s been shifting lately, some sour wind sweeping into the Lost Cities and bringing with it the smell of death. The Neverseen are braver, now, and they need to be careful.

They weren’t careful enough.

They’re ambushed almost immediately when they move into the woods. Black-cloaked figures drop down from the trees, surrounding them on all sides. Next to him, Tam hears Linh growl, pulling water from the air and forming it into a ball, ready to attack. Marella summons fire, Keefe and Fitz grasp throwing stars, Dex readies his newest gadgets and Sophie gets ready to inflict.

This time, they’re not going to lose. Not again.

And for a moment, it seems like they’re winning. Most of the Neverseen are already on the ground, unconscious or held down. Tam can’t recognize most of them- he thinks one of the only ones left standing is Gethen, but he can’t be sure.

It’s odd, for the Neverseen to be taken down so easily, but Tam chalks it up to their little group simply being stronger now. He turns to watch Linh, swinging water in a sweeping arc and knocking a woman to the grass beneath their feet, and smiles slightly.

And then-

It doesn’t happen in slow motion. Tam doesn’t see the throwing star coming, doesn’t hold out a hand to try and stop it. Linh is upright, and then she’s not- she’s fighting, and then she’s lying on the ground with a piece of silver metal embedded in her neck.

Linh is alive, and then she’s not.

Tam doesn’t even get to say goodbye.

-/-

The first few days were the worst.

He didn’t do anything but sit on the couch in Tiergan’s living room, staring blankly at the wall as he relived that moment over and over again.

A flash of silver, a small cry cut off too soon. Blood staining the grass and getting on Tam’s hands as he rushes to her, too late.

Too late. He’s always too late.

Nightmares and sleepless nights bleed into empty days, and Tam doesn’t care. He feels time slipping away, feels himself get weaker (he’s not eating. what’s the point, when she’s gone), feels shadows wrap around him.

They’re shockingly cold, but at least feeling cold is feeling something.

So he falls backwards into the shadows, letting them surround him, crush him out of the half-dead state he’s been in and back into his own body. And slowly, the sadness recedes. It’s not gone, it’ll never be gone, but Tam has managed to cover it up with something else.

Anger.

Rage is what gets him off of the couch, what gets him to eat, what gets him out of the house. Anger is what makes him track down each and every member of the Neverseen and kill them.

Or, try to. Someone always shows up to stop him.

At this point, Tam is sure they’re tracking him somehow. Sophie, Biana, Keefe, Dex- someone is always there, telling him to slow down.

Stop, they’ll say. You’re going to hurt yourself. This isn’t safe.

And Tam knows it’s not. He can feel the shadowflux creeping through his veins; a cold, tingling sensation. It doesn’t hurt, not yet, but it will eventually.

It’ll take over, eventually.

Tam doesn’t care.

He’s standing on the edge of the cliff again, the one he and Linh used to come to when they went swimming. It’s clouded, today, the water below gray and upset. No more sunny blue days.

Sunny blue days disappeared a long time ago.

Tam came here to find some long-lost part of Linh, to remember, but all it does is hurt. Hurt and hurt and hurt again, and it never stops.

It never stops. It’s never going to stop. The only way is-

The water below is dark. It won’t catch him this time.

Tam takes a shaky step forward.

A flash of silver, a small cry cut off too soon. Blood staining the grass and getting on Tam’s hands as he rushes to her, too late.

And a laugh. High and cackling. Tam knows that laugh.

“Gethen.”

And he turns away from the cliff.

-/-

They’re at a human picnic spot, sharing a piece of fruit the gnomes gave them for lunch. Linh’s laughing at something Tam says when a screech echoes through the air.

A hawk has just picked up a mouse in its talons, carrying it through the air and towards a tree branch. Linh gasps and stands up, but the humans on the other side of the clearing are faster- one grabs a rock and hits the hawk in the wing. It goes crashing to the ground, and the mouse scurries away.

The humans leave, laughing, as Linh rushes over to the bird.

“It’s hurt,” she says, gently lifting a wing that is bent in a way no wing should ever be. “We need to help it.”

“It was going to kill that mouse,” Tam points out. “You didn’t want it to do that. Why are you helping it now?”

“Because it’s hurt,” Linh says, glaring at him, “and it was just trying to find food. And even if it wasn’t-” she shakes her head- “it’s a living thing. If you can help a living thing, you should.

“If you just leave it, it could die. No one deserves that, no matter what they’ve done.”

Tam sighs, crouching down next to her. “Fine. How can I help?”

-/-

The security at Gethen’s prison cell isn’t very good.

The goblins at the door didn’t even give him a second glance as Tam moved through the door- although, to their credit, Tam is pretty sure he still has a reputation as “Sophie Foster’s friend.”

Still, he doesn’t get any questions as he moves through the stone-lined walls and stops in front of a chilly cell. The man inside gives him a sharp smile.

“Tam Song,” he says. “I’ve been wondering when you would come to visit. Last time we talked you seemed a bit… unstable.”

“Last time we talked I tried to kill you,” Tam says bluntly. “Now I’m here to finish that.”

He summons shadowflux, ignoring the chill that runs through his whole body. He’ll deal with that later. Right now, all that matters is his sister’s murderer.

Gethen laughs. “You always were stronger than the rest of them,” he shrugs. “I’m not surprised to see you’re the one who went insane.”

“I’m not insane,” Tam growls, pushing the shadowflux closer to the man. “You killed my sister. Now you’re going to pay.”

Gethen’s eyes glint and he starts to say something, but Tam pushes the shadowflux into his skin and whatever he was going to speak is lost in a scream.

A flash of silver, a small cry cut off too soon.

Tam narrows his eyes and forces the shadowflux closer, pushing it into the man’s brain.

Blood staining the grass and getting on Tam’s hands as he rushes to her, too late.

Gethen’s body goes limp, but his eyes are wild and Tam knows he’s still in pain.

A laugh. High and cackling. And-

Gethen falls to the floor, his chest no longer heaving. He’s gone.

He’s gone, and Tam should be happy. Linh is avenged. She can move on now. She can be satisfied.

Linh wouldn’t want this, Biana’s voice whispers in his brain. It wasn’t for her. It was for you.

“No,” Tam bites his lip so hard he tastes blood, falling against the cold stone wall. He’s so cold- everything is so cold. “No, no, this was for her. This was for revenge.”

But he can see Linh, leaning over that wounded hawk. She looks up at him, straight at Tam, and her brow furrows.

No one deserves to die, no matter what they’ve done. She says, shaking her head. She stands up, moving toward Tam. What have you done, Tam?

“I just wanted them to hurt,” Tam whispers. “I wanted them to die.”

Linh frowns sadly and the memory dissipates. Tam sinks to the floor, head in his hands. The floor is cold, the walls are cold, he’s so cold-

Shadowflux moves toward him, burrowing under his skin. Tam lets it, lets it move through his bloodstream and into his heart.

Everything is cold.

#lynn rambles #my writing #tam song #linh song #angst

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