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spectacled-renegade-writes · 1 year ago

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An Early Start - Chapter 16 - Danny Phantom

Ao3: Here | Masterpost: Here

Ao3 Description: The accident that turns Danny half-ghost happens when he is four years old and leaves him trapped in the Ghost Zone. Clockwork finds him and takes him in to raise. But what happens when Clockwork sends Danny back to the human-world ten years later when a permanent portal appears?

Chapter 16:

Nighttime in Masters Manor left the entire castle with the same unsettling feeling as the man himself. But Danny was exhausted, especially after not sleeping the night before in that stupid RV, so he resolved to try and get at least some sleep. He managed a restless two hours before his ghost sense woke him up. Whatever. It’s not like he was sleeping very well anyway. Danny turned in to his ghost half, always a welcome return, and went to go find the source. It honestly didn’t surprise him that this castle was haunted, but he wanted to make sure none of them would hurt his family.

The source of his ghost sense did not take long to find. While invisible, he saw those same three vulture ghosts from back in Amity Park, and they finally found his father as they trailed behind him while he groggily made his way to the bathroom. Danny swooped underneath the floor and brought his dad with him, dropping him off at the bathroom before returning. “Hi, guys,” Danny said. “I thought I sent you to Florida.” The vultures turned around at the sound of his voice, scowls adorning their faces and a biting remark surely at the ready. But, the moment they did turn, they proceeded to scream, and flew off.

Well, okay then. “That was weird.” Danny mumbled.

“Ah, bright boy.”

Danny spun around and found himself greeted face to face with a different ghost altogether. Black hair, blue face and a white suit. The ghost floated with arms crossed and a smirk across his face. Danny lifted a hand and waved. “Hello.”

“Clockwork’s ward,” the ghost said. “I’ve heard tales of you. I also heard you recently left the Ghost Zone.”

“A lot of ghosts have heard of me,” Danny replied. “But my name is Phantom. What’s your name?”

The ghost only smiled and phased through the wall behind him, into the castle's study. Danny followed. “You can call me Plasmius.” The ghost said. “Tell me, my boy, why would a ghost like you decide to leave the Ghost Zone, now of all times, to protect the humans? What changed?”

Danny had a feeling he was going to have to fight this ghost, but he could tell he was powerful, so Danny didn’t know if it was a fight to win. He remained calm as he answered. “Clockwork gave me a mission.”

“So you decide to just follow his orders blindly? Oh, you are such a child.”

“He raised me,” Danny scowled despite himself. He took a breath and centered himself again, now was not the time to lose his temper. “Why are you here? Do you know those vultures?”

“I hired those idiot vultures!” Plasmius announced. “They were supposed to kill Jack, not believe the weak lie of some teenage ghost. I guess I’ll just have to finish him off myself,” and his face darkened. “But you first.” Plasmius shot a blast of pink ectoplasmic energy at Danny and Danny quickly put up a force field to dodge it.

“Can’t we talk this out?” Danny tried. “I don’t want to fight you!”

Plasmius only smirked. “No you most certainly do not.” He shot another blast at Danny and Danny let go of flight to dodge it. The moment he reached the ground, he touched the floor, and a shot of ice fractured out, climbing up Plasmius once it reached him, completely encasing him.

Danny shot back in to the air and flew toward him. “Look, it doesn’t have to –“ But seconds later Danny was thrown back. From inside his encasing of ice, fire began to burn from Plasmius’ entire body, and once the ice was melted enough, he broke free.

“Clever,” Plasmius said. “But still not stronger than me!” He flew toward Danny and split into four versions of himself, surrounding Danny. Trapped on all sides, Danny knew he was at a disadvantage, cloning himself was something he's not yet managed to master. Danny knew he only had one choice left, but it was destructive, and he was not at that point yet, so he fought.

Danny gave it everything he could, fought with everything he had, but it still wasn’t enough. Plasmius countered every attack and immediately got back up every time he was hit.

“Why do you want to kill Jack Fenton so bad?!” Danny demanded.

“Because,” Plasmius growled. “He deserves to die.”

“Then you leave me no other choice.” Danny steeled himself, took a deep breath, and released a ghostly wail that shook the entire room. Books fell off their shelves, chairs went flying, and Plasmius screamed as he was thrown against the opposite wall and slid to the floor. The battle was over. When he was sure Plasmius would not get up, Danny too fell to the floor, exhaustion from the fight mixed with the energy drained from his most powerful attack, he blacked out, letting go of his transformation against his will.

Danny woke up one more time that night. Adrenaline hit the moment he regained consciousness and he desperately tried to fight away the binds that held him. Only after he escaped did he realize that they were not binds at all, but in fact his blanket.

“You gave me quite a scare.” Danny whipped his head over to see Vlad Masters standing in his doorway. “Are you okay, my boy?”

Danny looked around. How… What?

“I found you passed out in my study,” Vlad explained. “So, I picked you up and brought you back to bed.”

Danny narrowed his eyes. Shouldn't Vlad have noticed the destruction? Yet again something about this man didn't sit right with Danny, but they were alone and Vlad had every opportunity to drop the potential façade if he wanted to. Since he didn't, and remained innocently in place, Danny tentatively decided to drop it for now. So, Danny placed his hands on his chest and bowed his head in apology.

“Not to worry,” Vlad assured. “What’s a scare between friends?” He turned on his heal to make his way back to the door but stopped long enough to say, “Sleep tight, little badger.” Danny watched as Vlad left the room and closed the door behind him, leaving an unsettled air behind. Danny felt more stressed than ever now but at the same time, exhaustion embraced him like a wool coat and shortly after pulled him under.

The next day Danny kept his eyes peeled for any sign of those vultures, or of Plasmius, but when he went back to the study to investigate, everything was in its rightful place. It was disconcerting and Danny resolved himself to stay at least in the next room over from his father at all times, just to be safe.

Danny went back to his room once early evening rolled around to put on the suit his parents bought him, but faltered at the tie. He’s never tied a tie in his life and in fact didn’t understand their function at all. Shouldn’t the suit be enough to show one was all dressed up? Danny exited his room to seek out Jazz to see if she knew how to tie a tie, but the moment he turned the corner, he nearly ran into none other than Vlad. “Ah, Daniel,” Vlad said, stopping him by his shoulders. “You seem to be in a rush. Might there be something I can help you with?”

‘No’. Danny thought. If he could help it he’d stay away from this man as much as possible.

“Do you perhaps need help with your tie?”

Danny gulped. He really should say no and just go find Jazz, but when that’s what he decided to do, Vlad was already reaching out to help him.

“You’ve been gone so long, it’s no wonder your father never taught you how to do this. There you go, good as new.” Danny looked down and smoothed out the tie. He missed his hoodie. At least in that he didn’t feel as exposed as he did in this constricting suit. He kept his head down as he nodded in thanks. “It’s no trouble at all, little badger. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have guests to greet.” Vlad continued his way down the hall and Danny sprinted off to continue his search for his sister.

Danny found Jazz ten minutes later in a theater room, watching some black and white film about the Packers. He tapped her shoulder to get her attention. “Oh, hi Danny.” Jazz smiled. "I was wondering where you were." Danny tilted his head and pointed to the door. Jazz wrinkled her nose. “And watch a bunch of old fossils pogo to new wave music? Pass.” Danny didn’t know what half those words even meant. But, he got the message. He shrugged and left her to her own devices. Honestly, Danny wanted to join her, but he had to make sure no vulture ghosts, or any other ghosts, would try to hurt his father.

The moment he entered the party room with his parents, he regretted his decision. Danny didn’t know if it was due to the amount of people present, but the room felt smaller than many of the other rooms in the castle. The music felt too loud and there were too many smells from too many body sprays. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and braced himself for the evening to come.

“Hey, Harry!” Jack called. From across the room Danny could see a woman in a green suit grimace in discontent. Okay, impatience with his father was officially removed from the list of things that make Vlad Masters unsettling.

The woman walked over to them and said with faux pleasantries, “Jack, Maddie, how nice…”

Danny’s father remained oblivious as usual as he wrapped a large hand around Danny’s shoulder and introduced the woman. “...But back in my college days she was just Harry. Harry Chin!” Danny cringed at the same moment his father laughed. Goodness, Danny really wanted to leave.

Danny watched his mother apologize for his father’s behavior, and his father take his mother to dance. Danny sagged his shoulders but when Harriet walked up next to him, he gave her a tight smile. “I’ve heard of you,” Harriet said. “I couldn’t not look into it when I saw the name Fenton cross my desk. Sorry you had to come home to that.” Danny followed her gaze to his father, who was knocking people down left and right, and couldn’t even be mad.

Danny contented himself with sitting at a table and tried to pass the time by counting how many people there were, but kept needing to restart, because people kept coming and going and no one would stay in one place. He was grateful when he was given an excuse to leave. Vlad appeared next to him and said, “Daniel, there you are, I was wondering if you could do me a huge favor.” Danny perked up and nodded. He didn't particularly like this man but if he was giving him an excuse to leave, then Danny would take it. Vlad smiled. “Wonderful. Could you go to my lab, second door on the right upstairs, there’s a present in there for your father that I’d like you to bring down.” Danny practically jumped out of his seat at the opportunity.

The halls were empty when Danny reached the next floor and he took a moment to just breathe. He seriously could not wait for this weekend to be over. It was especially times like these where he missed the Ghost Zone the most. Danny hoped this mission wouldn’t last forever. He hoped he could one day return.

Danny made his way down the hall to the room Vlad described, and went inside. Well, this was definitely a lab. However, there was no present in sight. He looked around... This was a huge castle, was there maybe a different lab? But just as Danny was about to turn to leave, he caught sight of a framed photo, one with a piece torn off, and Danny was certain he had the other half. He pulled that torn photo of his father from his pocket and held it up to the frame. It was a perfect match. Not good.

Danny’s ghost sense went off and he transformed but the moment he did, tentacles from two ecto-pusses wrapped around his arms and lifted him into the air. It wasn’t difficult to push them off. But, the moment he did, he was captured in a net. Danny went sliding across the room and after he hit the wall, he was finally able to look up to see who attacked him, and was greeted by Skulker. Danny quickly broke free of the net and flew to the ceiling. “What are you doing here?” He demanded. “Aren’t you getting tired of this game?”

“All excellent questions that I will not answer,” Skulker replied. He fired a shot at Danny and hit him square in the chest. Danny fell to the floor and in one fluid motion, Skulker slid a cube over to him and before Danny could react, it encased itself around him. The moment it did it began to disrupt his powers and Danny watched as Skulker hit a button, and the cube began to electrocute him. The pain that followed was overwhelming and he tried to use his ghostly wail to escape, but it was all for naught. He couldn’t even so much as faze. The electrocution cancelled out his transformation and he returned human. Skulker grabbed him by his hair and put a blade to his throat. “Now,” Skulker said. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

“Enough!” Both Danny and Skulker looked up at the source of the voice. “I didn’t free you to kill the boy, Skulker.” Vlad said. “Your work here is done.”

Skulker quickly stood up straight and sheepishly said, “Yes, well, I’ll just be taking my leave then.” With one final glare at Danny, he went intangible and flew off before he could face any consequences from Vlad.

With Skulker gone, Danny turned back to Vlad and scowled at him. He was starting to figure out what was going on but he still wouldn’t say anything until he was sure.

“I’m sure you’re very confused right now, Daniel,” Vlad said smoothly, walking toward him. “Which isn’t a surprise considering you’re what? Fourteen?” He circled Danny as he talked. “I sent those ghosts, and others, to test your father’s skills. Imagine my surprise when I find you! The second ghost hybrid his foolishness created.”

Well, there it was. The confirmation to Danny's suspicion. He watched as Vlad transformed into the very ghost he fought last night. “Clockwork told me there was one other person like me.” Danny growled.

“Careful, Daniel,” Vlad smirked. “You wouldn’t want your parents hearing you speak such a forbidden language, would you?”

“Let me go.” Danny insisted.

“Why?” Vlad argued. “So you can go back to living in a world where you know, in your heart, you don’t belong to? You don’t need them. I have experience, my child. Clockwork has sheltered you. I could train you, teach you everything I know, and all you’d have to do is one simple thing. Renounce your idiot father. Which, of course, shouldn't be difficult, considering what he did to you. To us.”

This guy couldn’t be serious. Danny actually couldn’t believe what he was hearing. All these years… all these years knowing there was someone out there just like him. Someone who should know exactly what he was going through, Danny often fantasized of finally meeting this person. But now that he has, all he felt was sad, disappointed... Betrayed. “No.”

Vlad tilted his head. “No?”

“No,” Danny repeated, frustrated tears stinging the corners of his eyes. “I’ve known for years there was someone out there just like me and all I’ve ever wanted was to meet them. But now, finally meeting you, and learning the type of person you are, there is no way I’ll join you. I don’t particularly like my father, but I like your motives even less.”

For a moment, Danny could see hurt cross Vlad’s face, but as fast as it appeared it vanished. “Okay, Daniel. If you say so.” Danny watched as Vlad disappeared from sight in one fluid motion.

Once Vlad vanished, Danny tried his best to escape the containment he was trapped in. Not only was it seriously messing with his claustrophobia but not being able to use his powers for the first time in his life was really making him begin to panic. The minutes he was stuck there dragged even if one minute only turned to two. His ghost sense went off again and Danny steeled himself for whatever attack came next.

“Well gosh and golly it looks like you could use a speck of help there, dontcha know?”

But that he was not expecting. Floating before him was the Dairy King, the same one from the portrait at the entrance of the castle. “Uh, yeah…” Danny said. So, the Dairy King did just that, reaching forward and pressing the release button on the box. Danny smiled and kicked it away. “Thank you.”

“Take it from a king, everyone needs help sometime, dontcha know.”

Yes, this Danny knew, and he wanted to ask for help against Vlad, but he could tell this ghost wasn’t a fighter. So, he said, “I really appreciate it but I need to get going now. Nice to meet you!”

As Danny transformed and raced out of the room the Dairy King called after him, “You too, kiddo! Try the gouda, it’s dairy fresh!”

Danny raced to the party room and upon seeing his father hovering two feet off the ground, went intangible and pushed Vlad out of him. They tumbled through the wall to the library on the other side. “Daniel, stop,” Vlad said. “Think about the things I could show you, the doors I could open for you. You, Danny Phantom, and I, Vlad Plasmius.” He clenched a fist. “Together we could rule.”

Danny frowned. “But why?” He asked. “Why do you crave power so bad? Why can’t we just be friends? Why do we have to hurt people?”

Vlad faltered at that. His expression dropped and for a moment, a sadness of his own crossed his eyes. But before he could even respond, the honking of a horn caught both of their attentions and they watched as the Fenton RV crashed through the wall. Danny looked back at Vlad and saw him scowling again. Hatred. Danny realized. It was Vlad’s hatred for Jack Fenton that drove his obsession. Vlad flew to the roof of the RV and pulled Maddie from her seat. “Mind if I cut in?” He said.

“Let go of me!” Maddie insisted.

But Vlad merely replied, “Never again, woman.”

As Danny pulled himself from the rubble, he watched as his father exited the vehicle to chase after Vlad. Danny took the chance to turn invisible and try to work the weapons in the RV himself. He knew he couldn't defeat Vlad on his own and this was his best bet. He figured out how to drive it and aligned the vehicle with Vlad, nearly running over his frantic father in the process.

Danny wished he didn’t have to do this. He didn’t want to. From above, holding Maddie by the ankle, Vlad smirked at him. Well, he'd tried, but Vlad didn't want to listen. So, Danny took hold of the controls and fired the weapon. The first two did not hit but the third one did the trick. As Vlad got pushed away, he let go of Maddie. Quick as a whip, Danny raced to overshadow his father and catch his mother before she hit the ground.

“Jack! You did it!” Maddie exclaimed.

Danny set her down and pointed her to Harriet before running over to Vlad, and lifting him up. “Must it really be like this?” Danny asked.

“As long as Jack draws breath, it must,” Vlad growled.

Danny sighed. “Okay, then. Here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to call a truce.”

“And why would I agree to that?” Vlad scoffed.

“Because,” Danny replied. “If you don’t, I’ll walk out of my father right now and expose both of us as ghosts. I’ve lived without my family for ten years, so I can do it again.” He didn’t think about how much he’d miss his sister. “I don’t need to stay with them to protect the humans. But, I know how much you care about my mom, and what would she think if she learned you’re a ghost?”

For a moment, Vlad recoiled, but he quickly recollected himself and smiled. “Using your opponent’s weakness against him? I am teaching you something after all. Very well, truce. Eventually you will join me by choice, once you see that humans aren’t everything you hold them up to be. But for now,” he cleared his throat and prepared to make a show. “Curse you, Jack Fenton! Your world-renowned expertise of all things ghosts has defeated me! Until next time...” Then Vlad disappeared in theatrical fashion.

Danny left his father and flew off to his room.

The moment Danny hit the floor, he dropped to his hands and knees, the purple hood of his ghostly attire blocking his peripherals. Ice blossomed from his hands and spread rapidly across the room. His mind ran a mile a minute and all he wanted to do was run, or rather fly, away. Far away from everything to where it was safe, where it was comfortable. Danny lifted his head and looked around. He needed to pack. He needed to leave this castle. He did just that, and waited until the last possible second before returning to his human form. Danny slung his bag over his shoulder and exited his room. He ran into Jazz as he did, and quickly reached behind him and shut the door before she could see the thin but visible layer of ice covering everything inside.

“Danny?” Jazz said, placing her hands on his shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“It’s time to leave.”

“Time to…”

“L-E-A-V-E.”

Jazz grimaced. “I already went to pack when I saw them drive the RV inside. I guess you saw that, too.” Danny finally noticed that she too had her bags slung over her shoulder. She slung her free arm around him. “Let’s go home.”

Danny didn’t have time to change out of that awful suit before they left but he did remove the coat and replaced his blue hoodie, pulling the hood up. As they drove, he sat with his legs pulled to his chest, staring down at his tie, the one Vlad had helped him with.

Danny now knew why Clockwork never told him who the other halfa was. Still, he wished Clockwork would’ve at least warned him. But on the other hand, maybe it was better he hadn’t. Danny buried his head in his knees.

So much for finding someone he could relate to.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Ao3 Notes:

Part 2: An Unknown Known World. End.

Look how far we've come! I can't believe we're already at the end of part 2! I hope you have a marvelous day/night!

#an early start au #danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #danny phantom fanfic #mute!danny fenton #disabled danny fenton #danny fenton #vlad plasmius #vlad masters #jazz fenton #jack fenton #harriet chin #maddie fenton #claustrophobia #anxiety #anxiety attack #panic attack #lost time #renegade writes

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samobservessonic · 1 year ago

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Today’s story, Megatox, opens with the introduction of Bob Beaky - not really a new character, but a disguise that Sonic sometimes uses in StC when he wants to sneak into Robotnik’s bases

That disguise lasts all of one page in this issue, before Sonic sees a trooper badnik attacking one of the small animals with an electric whip and races in to save them

Sonic makes swift work of clearing out all of the badniks, but the captive animals are reluctant to be led to safety through what they say is a haunted tunnel. Given the title of this story and the pink muck all around them, I’d be a bit more concerned about that than any ghosts. Oh, and the Grabber as well, but Sonic makes short work of that

We also get this horrifying concept that Robotnik could just stick you in a badnik and then put that badnik in a place that no one ever checks, so you might never get out. StC once again going hard with the notion of these animals being trapped in badniks

The group escape the tunnel, but then get ambushed by the titular villain, Megatox. He pretty much explains himself, so I don’t need to do it. I feel like I remember this guy turning up in other stories, so he at least becomes a recurring minor villain to buff the support cast. During the fight, he also mentions that the chemical he’s made of was designed specifically to counter Sonic, because Robotnik really wants to explore every hedgehog-murder avenue, I guess

After a brief fight scene, Sonic figures out a way to temporarily defeat Megatox by making a tunnel and using his speed to flush him out, separating Megatox’s goo for long enough that they’ll be able to escape. This won’t be a permanent solution, but it’s good enough for this issue, which closes out with Sonic and the small animals escaping

Now, they don’t outright say it in the issue, but I assume that this took place in the Chemical Plant Zone and that Megatox is a take on the goo you encounter there. It’s another example of Kitching & Elson taking something that was established in the games and expanding it into a more sinister threat for the people of Mobius to have to deal with. I like it when they do that and I have been hoping for more villains to be introduced for a while (Megatox doesn’t say if he’s actually working with Robotnik after what happened, but we can assume their interests are at least aligned), but I have to confess that this issue just didn’t do much for me? There isn’t anything bad about it per say, but I guess I just wasn’t that compelled by Megatox and I thought it was a bit of a shame Tails and the others weren’t in this story. I mean, in time, Tails will be getting his own stories independently of Sonic in StC, so I know that we’re going to get plenty of issues where we see Sonic fighting on his own. But… I don’t know? This one just needed a bit more for me? If nothing else though, I’m glad that they’re jumping straight into showing Sonic tackling the Robotnik takeover threat that was established last time

#sam observes sonic #sonic the comic #stc issue 10 #sonic the hedgehog #megatox

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plasticfangtastic · 1 year ago

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Pssst... Try not to take what they say in interviews too seriously. Sometimes things will be intentionally vague or an outright lie to confuse or appease people or throw them off from something. Ennis is infamously known for that although I don't think everyone realizes he does this, but he's also working on the show with them.

They said Marie surviving "wasn't as simple as them needing her alive" and it's kinda funny to see fans take it one way or the other when that can be so many different things in context of The Boys universe and especially what we saw in Gen V.

"Plans to kill Homelander" is Billy every season without success, but even if he did, I think we'll see him getting haunted by Homelander big time after the fact. I still want Hughie to be the one who kills Billy but maybe it's beyond the grave Homelander who's there as Billy is dying instead of Becca. I think that would be fitting and Billy honestly deserves it.

There's definitely an element of groundwork they are following from the comics which has been pretty consistent but what I really suspect will happen is that the control virus will end up used on Homelander by someone to purely weaponize him. I think we'll see him become an attack dog and fully efficient berserker without getting to enjoy any of it and having a different sort of mental break after.

The comics sort of rob you of the gratification Homelander's death could give and I think they want to recreate that effect for the show but who knows.

The scary part for me is all the genocide apologism that is going around but The Boys is sort of meant to unmask people and have us reevaluate the way we think so I guess I shouldn't be too surprised. Still hurts though.

As far as Cate "going too far", he's technically right. Not because Shetty wasn't a complete scumbag who wouldn't deserve death, but because she'd been completely neutralized with Cate's powers.

Neutralizing someone by killing them and killing someone who has already been neutralized are two very different things. Just jail her and let her suffer and stew in her own anger and actions knowing she lost at that point because death is the easy way for someone like that. She asked for them to just make her forget but Cate should have forced her to remember or even live through the memories of her victims.

Actually, if they wanted to make Billy fail and survive with Homelander permanently haunting him I'd be completely down for that because fuck that genocidal shithead.

Lol I don't know if this will make you feel any better but just things to think about I guess.

I could see Homie being a ghost haunting Billy as Billy already hallucinates Homelander for some reason that they still havent explained but he its a cash cow for Amazon and they might not just give us 5 seasons so I doubt the execs would want to get rid of him... the writers ans Kripke might hate HL but audiences have proven he its likable and profitable and frankly the idea that all of HL fans are maga type fascist its absurd bcuz my gay brown ass sure as fuck isnt maga and i adore him.

Its getting clear that they will copy the comic to some degree like Homie building an army to have a coup and Billy wanting to use a virus to commit genocide.

Will disagree on Cate v Shetty cuz absolutely nothing she did was wrong in my opinion and yes am being an apologist but i dont feel anything for killing child abusers like absolutely nothing. this bitch was Voguelbaum lite and everybody in the woods deserved it. My only issue its just how jarring the writing and ediring made the whole scene play out but its likely the shortened ep count and time per ep did that.

My ideal ending its Homelander winning and realizing it didnt fix anything and that now he its even more alone than before. I think bad guys winning its the most subversive thing for the stale af genre of superhero media. I want him to win not bcuz i love him but bcuz it would be more devastating for the narrative and shocking to the audience if he did.

#personal #homelander #ask #cate dunlap #anon ask

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witch-hazels-musings · 3 years ago

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Angst in coming. Diluc Zhongli and your pick being haunted by the SO they couldnt save.

Lingering Regret

Warning -> Only Angst (there isn’t a happy ending here, the reader is dead, all interactions are memories*, mentions of Kaeya (D), illness non-specific (Zh))

( i made myself cry )

Character X GN Reader | Anthology

Includes: Dainsleif, Diluc, Zhongli

The ghosts of the past cling to our shadows and seep into our memories when we least expect them to. For some they can move on, they can be healed by the passing of time, but for others, it becomes a festering wound that will never seal.

Dainsleif

He was no stranger to regret, absolutely everything in his life was a torturous experience. From the day he became the Bough Keeper to the night he failed them all, it was a memory burned in his mind for all eternity and as if he bore the weight of all of Teyvats karma he wove it into the fabric of his being

There was nothing he thought could break him more, could lower himself further into the sinking sandpit that was his life - that was until the day he met you

Just how many years ago was it now. With the curse of immortality like a chain to a world he was obligated to avenge, it was growing harder and harder to remember you - but there were moments when he could see and those were the ones he longed to hold onto

“Dainsleif, are you ready?” Your voice called down to him, his eyes flooded by the bright light that surrounded you as you patiently waited for him to climb the dark stairs. You followed him everywhere, much to his disagreement, but he had grown warm to your company. “The day won’t wait for us, you know.”

The light was so bright, why was it hiding your face? Wait -- let me see your face, I can’t remember. Don’t … don’t leave.

He blamed himself for your death - there was no one else who could have stopped it but him and, on the day you left this world to a place he had no way of reaching, was the day he stopped caring

There were rumors of a man who took little to no payment for almost any job - 300 mora and he’d handle your issue. They called him “The soulless vessel” for he was void of any and all emotions

How could he hold onto something that he didn’t understand anymore, how was he capable of experiencing a sensation that had no more purpose - he was nothing but a shell without you

“Psst, Daini. Hey sleepy, wake up.” The sound of your laughter, let me hear it again.

“Silly, we can’t sleep forever, wake up.” The touch of your hands, oh I remember them now … were they always this small.

“I guess we can rest a bit longer, you know I won’t mind.” Your lips, how could I have forgotten their warmth; I’ll let you remind me.

“Dainsleif, I love you.”

The birds pulled him from his dream, their chirping calls to each other a playful and carefree tune. He felt the warmth of the sun on his face, how it cast its glow across his lips but as the memory of his dream began to fade away he covered his eyes with his hand to hide the tears that disappeared into his hair.

“Forgive me …”

Diluc

Lingering ghosts loved to slip into the darkness that was Diluc Ragnvindr - when they fit so perfectly there, why wouldn’t they make him their home

He had countless people close to him perish and each one was a direct result of his actions - his father, a slash of a blade, his brother, a clash of opposing elements, his values, a single dismiss of a hand, his friends, the darkness of the abyss and the hands of the Fatui -- there was nothing he let get close anymore because it was only a matter of time before he brought it crumbling to the pit of his existence

How could he have been so naive - what was hope but a debilitating disease and yet you purged all of that from his mind every time you entered his space, every time you pushed your way past the walls he so expertly crafted -- you were the last thing he clung to, the last light he vowed to protect

“You know, you don’t have to worry about me all the time, I’m more capable than you think.” You crossed your arms and gave him a cocky smirk, the bag of supplies resting at your feet as they waited for you to pick them back up again. It was only because of his hesitancy that they were there in the first place.

“I have seen your capabilities many times, yes.”

“So, what, you don’t trust me.”

“That is far from the truth.” He looked at you for a moment before sighing in defeat. His hand reached for the bag and lifted it to your hands. “Do be careful, is all that I ask.”

“You know I will.” With a bright smile, you took the pack and slung it over your shoulder. In your excitement, you turned toward the door before pausing as if you forgot something and when you hurled yourself back to him only to place a kiss on his lips, he felt the heat from his pounding heart rise into his cheeks. “See you soon, handsome.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

The distant and closed-off winery owner turned into a being of rage the day of your death. No matter how hard those closest to him tried to quell the wildfire that was his fury, they could only stand back and deal with the aftermath - The flame of Diluc’s devastation was so great that it left a permanent scar in Mondstadt and to this day the earth has yet to heal

It was on him to protect you and he couldn’t, he wasn’t even there to try and he wasn’t sure what was worse - but one was for sure, the anguish he felt knowing you called out for him but he never came to save you ate him up inside. He wasn’t Diluc Ragnvindr anymore, he was no-one

“Diluc! Come back!” Kaeya shouted but he couldn’t hear over the sound of the violent crashing and eerie nothingness in front of him.

“Kaeya, don’t!” Another voice joined the noise but Diluc didn’t turn around. In front of him was the only answer to his shattered and empty heart.

“Diluc please, they wouldn’t want this!” Kaeya reached for Diluc’s arm but the pressure and wind from the opening were so great it felt like a thousand anchors were strapped to his body. “Diluc!”

Suddenly, there was silence. No noise, no sound but the world continued to whip around like a violent storm. Kaeya’s fingers touched the fabric of his brother's coat and, as Diluc turned his head to look back, tears were streaming down his face. It was strange to see Diluc’s lips moving as if he were saying something but there was nothing, an unbearable amount of nothing.

Riddled with fear, Kaeya extended his hand toward the rip in space and as soon as he felt the pulse of his vision escape his fingers, his others curled around Diluc’s jacket and flung him backward. In the settling explosion, the sound of the world slipped back in and as those who cared deeply for the man who no longer knew his name drew closer, the first thing they saw was his hunched-over body guarded by blue and the sound of his painful cries.

Zhongli

To know suffering, to know loss was nothing new to the Geo Archon. For six thousand years he watched those close to him rise in greatness and fall in agony - for some they were thrust into death by a number of means and for others, well, his hands have never been clean

Still, even if he had known what it was like to lose someone he loved, it was never easy and while he always knew the day would come when you left this world to walk a path he’d never know, it wasn’t something he expected so soon

There were endless memories he couldn’t wait to make with you - the engraving your life into the notches of his soul, to be reminded of your face by simply turning around, to recall your wit with banter of his own, to be inspired by you every single day he stepped out the door -- why didn’t you stay

“Welcome home, Zhongli.” You were already preparing the table with the teacups by the time he entered your home. It was elegant incarnate to watch you move around the room, to place everything so perfectly and properly that he wondered if you hadn’t been a spirit in another life.

“I am home.” He reached for your waist and pulled you close, his smile setting yours off, and as the kettle began to sound he first greeted you with a heartwarming kiss.

There are many things he can circumvent - his capabilities are endless but he found that no matter how strong a person is, there is one thing strength cannot beat

To watch you slowly suffer was a torturous thing. Every day you grew weaker and weaker, your skin changed but the kindness of your smile outweighed it all until the day finally came ...

A ceremony to send someone off is a beautiful thing, a celebration of their life while they kept it their own, a remembrance and blessing to hold strong every impact they made - but to Zhongli that day was laced with bitterness

He made the arduous steps up the hillside. His legs carried him on even when nothing else of him felt the desire to do so. When he finally reached the peak, he prepared everything so skillfully as if he’d practiced this a thousand times, and it's possible he did for there was no end to his life even if he wished for it.

“My dear, the flowers are blooming splendidly.” He set the burning incense by the weathered tombstone. It had faded and eroded over the years, but as he brushed the engraving with his fingers, he could still make out its marks.

The chimes in the tree rang out as he poured a glass of tea before setting it against the small offering before you. “Ah, I can only hope you are able to see them from beyond the veil.” As he gazed out over the vast field, the sun illuminated the thousands of flowers that surrounded your grave, and, as he took a sip of his tea, he sighed contentedly before continuing, “Never worry, I shall cultivate more until you do. I know how fond you were of flowers.”

tag list:

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steves-on-a-plane · 2 years ago

Text

Fighting Dragons With You (pt 3)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Words: 1954 Cast of Characters: Young!Leia, Obi Wan Kenobi & Reader Summary: Obi Wan has arrived to rescue Leia and Reader, but the trio have a long way to go before they are returned safely to Alderaan.

Leia, ever vigilant in her effort to not leave you behind, had stopped running when you dropped her hand. She could tell from reading your body language, or maybe it was the force, that the man who held on to you wasn’t a threat. She approached slowly and stood behind you. Obi-Wan let go of your wrist. He wasn’t sure where to look.

The ten-year-old girl standing just barely beyond his grasp was so clearly Leia that it made his chest ache. Her hairstyle, though frizzing slightly from her travels was just the sort of fashionable thing a younger Padme would have worn. The scrunch of her brows and the cautious gaze she was assessing him with was all Anakin. That punch he’d taken to the gut? Well, that could have been either of them.

And you. Looking at you, it was as if no time had passed at all. Yes, your jedi robes had been replaced by garments of Alderaanian style. Your eyes looked just a little more tired and the faintest of wrinkles had begun to form on your features. But you were still so completely…you. Alderaan had been good to you. He could feel it in The Force.

With one arm protectively extended to shield Leia, you looked over Obi-Wan. You were searching for some sense of familiarity, but everything about him felt different. The twin suns of Tatooine had not been kind to your old friend. Aside from the tanning of his skin and the permanent lines etched into his face, the sand planet had taken Obi-Wan’s confidence, his trust.

The guilt washed over you in waves. While you’d been living comfortably on the Organa’s credits he’d been left alone, haunted by things you couldn’t imagine. You hadn’t even managed to keep a little girl safe. While he was carrying the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders. As if the ghosts, the grief, and the isolation hadn’t been enough, he’d risked his own safety to chase after you.

Bail had to have been the one to contacted him. The Viceroy was the only person, other than you, who knew how to get in contact with Obi-Wan. He’d put himself at risk by leaving Tatooine, by exposing himself. Still he’d come. Bail had asked and he’d come. Because that’s who Obi-Wan was.

“Are you crying, [Y/N]?” Leia was the first to notice. You brought a hand to your cheek to find that yes, you were crying. When did that start? You wondered. You dried your eyes with the sleeve of your tunic.

“It’s okay.” You reach down and took Leia’s hand again. “We’re going to be okay now.” You promised. “Leia Organa, this is my very good friend…” You paused. You’d been living under pseudonym on Alderaan and assumed Obi-Wan would do the same. Even something as simple as changing your name might keep the Empire off your scent.

“Ben.” He introduced himself. “My name is Ben. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Princess.”

“How do you know I’m a princess?” Leia questioned suspiciously.

“Ben is also friends with your father. I’m guessing that’s how he was able to find us so quickly.” You looked to Obi-Wan for confirmation.

“Bail contacted me as soon as he realized you were missing. He was certain I was the only person who could ensure you were both returned safely to Alderaan.” He nodded. “He also, wanted to make sure you had this in case you needed it.”

It took most of your will power not to snatch the object held in Obi-Wan’s outstretched hands. Not weighing much more than a blaster, your lightsaber had been an extension of your own arms for so long. Beautifully carved with elegant swirls up and down its metal hilt, with leather wrappings for grips. Small coppery accents that had taken the longest to forge. It was a work of art.

“I’ve missed you old girl.” You whispered before accepting the saber and quickly tucking it away. Jedi were supposed treat their saber as a tool. They were not supposed to anthropomorphize them or assign a personality to them. But it was a new era and all the condescending nay-sayers were long gone. You were going to treat your lightsaber like the friend she’d always been to you.

“Is that a lightsaber?” Leia remarked just a little too loud for yours or Obi-Wan’s comfort. Out of habit you both shushed her. “Are you a jedi?”

“We’d better get moving.” Obi-Wan urged.

“There’s not time to explain right now.” You told her. “For now we’re going to do what Ob…Ben says.”

“Oh, so this is Obi-Wan.” Leia gave you a knowing smile.

“How did you…what have you told her about me?” He asked.

“We don’t have time. Have to move right?” You reminded him.

“Yes, very well. This way.” Obi-Wan sighed, agreeing under duress. You were right, you really didn’t have time right now. So he’d plan a lecture for the dangers of oversharing when you were safely on a transport off world. Instead he led you out of the storage facility and onto the streets. Even with a crowded street of eccentrically dressed off worlders you, Leia and Obi-Wan stood out.

“I don’t suppose you’ve got three changes of clothes with you under that robe yours.” You asked him.

“No, I don’t.” He answered a little gruff. “Just as I assumed you didn’t fill your pockets with any credits before getting kidnapped.”

“We’d certainly be in a better position if I had.” You sighed. “So what’s the plan?”

“Did my ears deceive me or did [Y/N] just suggest we have a plan?” Obi-Wan teased. It very strange after everything you’d been through for him to joke so easily. For the two of you to slip into familiar banter. Then again, it had always been easy with Obi-Wan.

“We need to change. Leia and I are overdressed for this place and you…have you been wearing the same robes for ten years?” You tilted your head to the side, pretending to assess his attire.

“I’ve changed them!” He countered defensively. “My cloak isn’t even the same shade of brown.” He adjusted his robes, disappointed you hadn’t noticed. “The shopping stalls are this way.” He remarked impatiently. “There’s a port on the other side of the city, we need to make it to the last transport.”

You and Leia browsed the first shopping stall you came upon. At first the princess protested at wearing the plain green cloak you selected for her. You reminded Leia that half the city was looking for you. You needed to blend in. She groaned but allowed you to wrap her in the green cloak jus the same. You stripped off your tunic behind a rack and quickly replaced it with a pale grey poncho. It had a roomy hood that could cover your face, and a hem that went past your waist which would hide your saber.

Leia had somehow managed to persuade Obi-Wan into purchasing a pair of gloves for her as well. Once the tab was paid you ushed the pair of them away from the stall. If you hadn’t the Princess may have charmed her new Uncle out of all his emergency credits.

“We’ll need a story.” You pointed out. The three of you walked together with Leia between you and Obi-Wan.

“Simple enough. We’re a family of farmers from Tawl.” Obi-Wan answered, it was clear he’d already been thinking of it. “You are my wife and Leia is out daughter.” It was silly, and all a lie of course, but hearing Obi-Wan call you his wife made your heart skip a beat.

“How come I’ve never seen your lightsaber before, [Y/N]?” Leia asked.

“Because it was hidden. If I were to carry it all the time it could get me in trouble. We talked about this in your studies.” You reminded her.

“Yes, but you said all the jedi are dead. You’re both still alive. What else have you lied to me about?” She wanted to know.

“Leia I’ve never lied to you. I said the Jedi were extinct which is true enough. Neither Obi-Wan nor I are Jedi anymore and we’re the last two left, as far as we know. As soon as we’re home, this lightsaber is going right back to your father and we’re both going to forget about it, is that clear?” Leia nodded.

“You’ve taught her about Jedi?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Only what the other children her age learn when talking about the Clone Wars. I’m sure you’ve had similar conversations with…your young student.” You had to remind yourself that it was still much too soon for Leia to know everything. You also weren’t exactly in the clear yet. The last thing you needed was for someone on Daiyu to hear that Luke Skywalker was safe and sound on Tatooine.

“I’m afraid my pupil and I don’t have quite the relationship that you have with yours.” Obi-Wan replied. There was a hint of sadness in his tone. Maybe even jealousy.

The three of you continued moving through the shopping area. You found an alley that appeared empty until a Bounty Hunter rushed forward out of it. You thanked the force for your reflexes as you were able to take the hunter down quietly. His bounty puck still had to be delt with since they sometimes contained trackers. You reached over and detached the puck from the Bounty Hunter’s wrist as Leia and Obi-Wan followed you into the alley. You tossed the puck to the ground about to step on it and reduce it to pieces.

“That’s going to be a problem.” You complained when you realized who the high prized bounty puck was for.

“What is it?” You felt Obi-Wan’s hand rest on your lower back as he looked over your shoulder, trying to see the puck. You tried not to focus on the touch. The alleyway was a little tight and he needed the extra support to balance on his toes. “Oh my! That’s quite a large sum of credits.”

“High treason.” You remarked, reading the bounty puck. “Who did you tick off on the wrong side of the galaxy?”

“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t rule your capture as unrelated just yet.” He sighed.

“You think someone sent those first Bounty Hunters to capture Leia as a way to lure you out?” You sucked in a breath. That was something you hadn’t considered. The idea that someone knew Obi-Wan was still alive and wanted him found badly enough they would place a bounty on him had your stomach turning. “You think they weren’t targeting the Organas at all.”

“I can’t be certain.” Obi-Wan reminded you. “Bail did inform me he’s put forward a fair amount of unpopular legislation as of late. He thought someone might be trying to force him into backing down. I was willing to consider alternative motivations.”

“You though someone was looking for you, but you came anyway?” You asked. You weren’t sure if you would’ve had the courage to do what Obi-Wan was claiming to have done.

“I know you would have.” Obi-Wan remarked. After reading you through The Force. It wasn’t like he was trying to pry into your mind. You just always seemed to be screaming your emotions to him through The Force. He stepped forward effectively crushing the Bounty puck.

“How can you be so sure of something that I’m not even sure of?” You asked.

“You would have come to rescue me for the same reason I’ve done for you and Leia.” He insisted.

“You were offered a large sum of republic credits?” You asked.

“I’d do anything to know you were safe.” He told you.

TAGS: @thejediprincess56

#Obi-Wan #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Obi-Wan Kenobi Reader Insert #Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader #Fan Fiction #FF #Fan Fic #Leia Organa #Fighting Dragons With You

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fernweh-writes · 3 years ago

Note

You could ask my question, if possible, of course. With the Slachers (Michael, Jason, Brahms, Vincent and Bo) with her beloved looking innocent and even angelic, but she is extremely jealous and possessive when a victim or survivor flirts with her slachers to the point of saying something in context: " he is mine !!" (while the reader embraces Slachers). What would be the reaction of the slachers, about the corpotamento of his beloved?

I don’t write for Jason, sorry but I can definitely do the rest. Since I don’t write for many slashers, with requests like this one I usually do a little snippet for all of the slashers I do write for. But I like this idea a lot so without further ado…

P.S. this took me so much longer than I expected, I definitely got a little invested in these lol. I left out Thomas and Jesse but I may go back and add them at a later time idk yet.

-Fern🌿

Slashers x Possessive S/O

Michael Meyers

Your innocent and kind nature would be one of the things that made Michael interested in you. You were the first person to take the time to actually figure him out rather than checking him off as Evil™️ and treating him as such. He also likes the fact that he can easily make you flustered, it feeds his need for control. Knowing that he can simply press himself against you and leave you blushing both pleases and amuses him.

We all know that Michael is very possessive. He often stalks you while you’re at work or out in town running errands. At this point, it’s no longer because he feels the need to be predatory, he’s just making sure that what’s his is safe from any harm.

One night you had decided to go out with a few friends, which Michael wasn’t very excited about, but eventually he allowed it. It was one of those busy clubs/bars that had opened recently, so of course the place was crowded. This left Michael with no choice but to ditch the mask while he followed you, another thing he wasn’t happy about.

He ended up sitting on the other side of the place by himself with his eyes glued to you. He didn’t like you being around so many people. Michael was so focused on watching you that he had barely even noticed the woman walk up and make herself cozy in the seat opposite of him. Now his attention was on her while she grinned at him like the Cheshire Cat, pushing her cleavage together to make it more apparent in her already low cut dress.

Michael could’ve sworn that you had teleported, after all he had only take his eyes off of you for a second. Now you had your arms wrapped around him with your head resting on his neck. “Can we help you,” you asked the girl in front of you. Michael had never heard your voice sound so cold.

The girl began to twirl her hair, not deterred by the fact that you were running your hands over Michael. “I was just wondering what such a handsome man was doing here all by himself,” she purred. She attempted to reach forward and grab his hand but you were quick to smack it away before Michael could even move.

“He’s not here by himself he’s with me. And if I were you I would keep your hands to yourself and away from what’s mine.” After you said that it didn’t take long for Michael to drag you back home. To him it was your way of saying that you were in fact a permanent part of Michaels life. Plus you threatening someone when you’re usually so polite was a change of pace that left Michael wanting. You can definitely expect the girl to turn up missing on the news soon after that night as well.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms adored your innocence and kindness. You never hesitated to follow the rules and care for him, which is why he kept you around. After all he needs a nanny that is actually going to take care of him. Brahms also had an easy time revealing himself to you since after the initial shock of it all you were delighted to find out you weren’t being haunted and that you weren’t in a huge countryside mansion all by yourself.

Seeing as Brahms is a major introvert and goes absolutely feral if there’s someone new in his house that he hasn’t allowed you usually have nothing to worry about. However, suppose something happens where Malcolm has to leave for a few weeks, meaning that a new girl is assigned to deliver the groceries until Malcolm returns.

You were in the kitchen chopping up ingredients for lunch when she arrived for the first time. You had to admit that she was pretty, she was tall and athletic looking with perfect curls. It was hard for you to not notice that she was blonde, Brahms had a thing for blondes…

“So Malcolm told me that Brahms isn’t dead or a ghost, is that right?” You didn’t like the fact Malcolm had told this random girl about Brahms but you muttered in agreement anyways. She helped you put up the rest of the groceries in silence, not speaking again until she had opened the door to leave. “So is he hot? Usually people with this much money that aren’t old are always hot. If he is I might just have to stick around for a little while longer.”

That struck a nerve. “He’s not available,” you said sharply and she faltered. “What do you mean?” It was easy to tell she hadn’t expected that kind of answer, much less the attitude you had suddenly adopted. “He isn’t single. So although he is hot, trust me, I would know, you can’t have him. He’s mine.” She quickly apologized and left, slamming the door shut behind her. You could also hear Brahms moving around in the walls nearby, letting you know he must have heard everything.

Shortly after you found Brahms wrapped around you while you finished making lunch. “So now I’m yours hmm?” You could hear the amusement in his voice. You turned and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him in for a kiss, one hand finding it’s way into his hair. After pulling away you told him, “You’ve always been mine Brahmsy. My good boy.” He let out a small whine at your praise, pulling you back in for another kiss.

Vincent Sinclair

You were Vincent’s muse. He absolutely adored you from the way you acted to the way you looked. To him there was no aspect of you that wasn’t perfect. In other words he was absolutely obsessed with you. After all, you did take care of him and even helped Bo keep Ambrose up and running.

It’s no secret that Vincent was shy, but he was definitely intimidating as well. So you knew that the girl in front of him that was doing a terrible job of flirting was only doing so in a poor attempt to make it out alive. Still, watching her twirl her hair and smile at him made something inside of you snap.

“Come on handsome, you got to want some kind of company. I’m sure you’re so lonely here all by yourself… I could help with that.” She attempted to touch his chest but you grabbed her before she could. “Sorry,” you told her as you held both of her arms behind her back, “he already has someone keeping his bed warm. Didn’t your mother ever to tell you not to touch things that belong to other people?”

Vincent made quick work of knocking the girl out and carrying her down to the workshop. However, after dwelling on the thought he decided to just let Lester dispose of her body. He didn’t want to make you angry by turning her into a permanent wax figure for the town. Doesn’t mean that he won’t allow her to regain consciousness before killing her though, after all she needs to know her place.

Later on Vincent will make sure you never forget that he is yours the same way that you’re his. You can probably expect to have some trouble moving around the next day as well.

Bo Sinclair

Everyone knows that Bo is a major flirt. He enjoys watching the girls throw themselves at him, he just blames it on his “southern charm.” Although, he usually keeps you safely tucked up into the house whenever victims stumble into town. After all, “I can’t have my sweet angel in harms way now, can I?”

You never dwelled on how Bo dealt with victims, that was his business. Sure he had flirted with you a lot when you first showed up. Even now he was heavy on flirting and making inappropriate comments all the time. It was one of the things that made him Bo after all. So walking into his shop unaware of the newest batch of victims in town was a shock for you. Well not so much the victim part, it was finding Bo flirting with the girl leaning over the counter to display her cleavage that pissed you off.

She was smiling and blushing like she had a high school crush on the man in front of her. Not to mention Bo was unashamedly staring at everything she was flaunting. So yeah you were pissed, especially since he didn’t even seem to notice you were there. You quickly remembered the lunch you were holding in your hand, your reason for coming down here, and decided to use it to your advantage.

Instead of saying anything you just walked up behind him, setting his lunch on the counter right in front of the girl, effectively blocking his view of her boobs before wrapping your arms around him. Bo still didn’t shut up and acknowledge you so you decided to interrupt. “I brought you lunch baby.” The use of a pet name quickly made the girl Bo was flirting with falter.

“Oh, uhm, is this your girlfriend or something?” Before Bo could jump in you answered her. “Or something, I guess you could say. After all, he is my husband.” You looked up at Bo with the most lovesick expression you could put on your face as you pulled him in for a kiss. One kiss turned to two, to three, to a whole make out session in front of the poor girl. Bo’s hands began to roam around your body as well, making sure to squeeze all of his favorite parts of you.

When the two of you broke apart the girl was gone but Bo didn’t seem to notice. He was still to busy feeling you up. “Have I ever told you how fuckin’ sexy you are when you’re jealous? I’d never have guessed you had a possessive side to you angel.” You smiled knowing you now had his full attention, “Well surprise.”

He kissed you one more time, long and hard. “I promise we’ll continue this later up at the house. But right now I gotta go find that bitch n’ kill ‘er. You better be waitin’ on me when I get home darlin’.”

Billy Loomis

Billy was highly sought after by many girls due to his bad boy reputation. He always had girls throwing themselves at him wanting to be the one to fix him. You knew you didn’t have to worry, Billy wouldn’t leave you for someone else. He made it very clear that you were permanent. But still you couldn’t help but be irritated when they would flirt with him right in front of you.

You two were planning a movie night which meant a trip down to the video store. Apparently, Randy had the night off because some new girl was behind the counter. When the two of you first arrived she had been reading a magazine, not caring about the handful of people milling about. That was until she noticed Billy, not seeming to care that you were wrapped around his arm. She was watching him like a hawk.

You shifted uncomfortably, not liking the way she was staring down your boyfriend. Billy was observant and quickly noticed your discomfort. “Don’t worry about her babe, you know you’re the only person I’m into.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into him, “Now, do you want to watch Friday the 13th or Nightmare on Elm Street?” You groaned, “Billy we’ve seen both of those movies a million times.” He smiled and held up Nightmare on Elm Street, “Well now we can watch this one and make it one million and one times.”

You rolled your eyes as he drug you to the checkout counter. The employee quickly perked up when she noticed Billy. “Will this be all for you hun?” She asked completely ignoring you. She didn’t even look down at what movie Billy had set on the counter before saying, “You have good taste, this is like one of my favorite movies ever. It’s a shame your little girlfriend doesn’t seem to like it though.”

“Cool, so who’s the main character?” You knew exactly what Billy was trying to do, elbowing him lightly. “Oh, uhm,” she finally looked down at the case, eyes lighting up, “oh, yeah it’s that really scarred dude!” Billy rolled his eyes, “No shit, what’s his name though.” You decided to have pity on the girl, “Ignore him, he’s a horror movie fanatic.” The girl mumbled, “Yeah no kidding.”

You smiled at Billy, using this as your chance to brag on the fact he’s yours. You knew him like no one else did. “He’s such a dork when it comes to the cinematography of these things but he’s my dork.” Billy hugged you from behind, “Yeah, whatever, you know you love me.”

Stu Macher

Stu absolutely loved throwing huge parties at his house. He was well liked and well known so it wasn’t unusual for a lot of people to show up, many of which you didn’t even know. Because so many people knew Stu, it also meant that they knew his family was pretty wealthy. It was pretty common to find girls hitting on him and since Stu loved attention he was prone to playfully flirting back.

Usually you would hang out with your friends during these parties, not being big on socializing with new people. Most of the time you didn’t worry about Stu wandering off, he would always show up at your side again at some point. Half the time when he would reappear you would have to pry him back off of you. He could be quite handsy at times.

Now the party was winding down and mostly everyone left was on the couch getting ready to watch a movie. You excused yourself, and headed to the kitchen to get another drink. You froze when you saw a girl running her hands all over Stu, he wasn’t making any move to push her away. You decided to help him out with that.

“Do you need something,” you asked her as Stu wrapped himself around you. “Are you his girlfriend?” Stu laughed, hopping up onto the counter. He pulled you up onto his lap, “Yeah she is dude. Isn’t she hot?” The girl scoffed, “Don’t you think that she’s a little… beneath you, Stu?”

That set you off. “I think that slutty little bitches like you need to keep your dirty hands away from what’s mine.” The girl rolled her eyes before storming out of the kitchen. You hopped out of Stu’s lap and turned to face him. “If you let mother whore rub all up on you like that again so help me I will be the next one to commit a murder in this house. Understand?” Stu stopped smiling, his goofy personality faltering for a second. He then saluted, “Yes ma’am.” You nodded. “Good.”

Stu jumped down and threw you over his shoulder, causing you to yelp. “You look extra hot when you’re fighting over me babe.” He quickly climbed the stairs and you pounded against his back. “You’re going the wrong way, the movie is downstairs.” He made it quickly to the bedroom, throwing you down on the king size bed with a huge grin. “We can make our own movie babe. I don’t know about you but I’m thinking romance,” he rambled, crawling on top of you. “Rated R of course.”

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redrobin-detective · 4 years ago

Text

The late Daniel Fenton

It was shaping up to be a beautiful if chilly December day and Casper High, as always, was bustling. It was 7:49 and class was about to start. The teacher watched the last few kids stumbling in at various levels of wakefulness. He already knew who would be the ones to rush in after the bell but that was alright. Life was too short to stress about being a few minutes late to class, especially in Amity Park of all places.

He looked up to see Madison, one of his shyer students walk in before making a beeline for his desk. She was biting her lip and nervously rubbing her hand down her skirt. “Hey,” she began quietly.

“Good morning. What’s up, Mads?” He asked casually. She looked upset, he could probably put on a video for the class if she needed to talk. They really needed a permanent counselor but the constant ghost attacks ran off most of them so he’d taken up the unofficial mantle. It felt good to help his students like that, make up for past wrongs.

“Are we um, expecting any new students?” She asked, her eyes darting over to the door she’d just come through. “Any transfers, exchange students or anything like that?”

“No,” the teacher frowned. “Amity isn’t the kind of place people transfer into. Why?”

“There’s a kid in the hallway,” she mumbled. “I don’t recognize him, he’s got a backpack and everything but he’s... I don’t know he doesn’t feel right.”

“Oh you’re talking about that weird dark haired kid,” Kyle said as he entered and sat down with a slouch. But even the class slacker looked unusually tense. “Dude’s creepy, can’t put my finger on why but he definitely doesn’t belong.”

“Oh,” was all the teacher had to say. Suddenly he realized how cold the classroom had become, the uncomfortable feeling that was pressing ever so slightly down on them. “I suppose it makes sense, the ghosts have been quiet lately with the Truce and all. He probably got bored.”

“Sir?” Madison said.

“Shannon,” he said instead, looking over at the frizzy haired girl hunched over her sketchbook furiously at work. “Would you do me a favor and move to the vacant seat in the second row? Just for today.”

“What? Why?” the girl whined even as she gathered up her various arts supplies and got ready to move.

“That’s Mr. Fenton’s seat,” he said taking in a deep breath and closing his eyes in preparation for what he was about to see. Danny would come here, of course he would. This was Lancer’s old classroom and Danny had him for first period English Lit. He and Dash both did.

“Mr. Baxter? What’s going on, is it a ghost?” Malik asked from the back row while Shannon shuffled to her new temporary seat.

“Yes but you don’t need to be scared,” he said softly, evenly. “He won’t hurt you.” The bell rang but Dash didn’t start the lesson. Instead, he waited. Danny had never been on time to class the entire time Dash had known him, of course death wouldn’t change that.

“Sorry, I’m late Mr. Lancer,” Dash gripped his desk so he didn’t jump when Danny Fenton simply appeared in front of his desk instead of walking through the door like any other student. “My folks couldn’t drive me, they’re still working on their stupid ghost portal.” A quick glance over at this class showed varying levels of fear, shock and curiosity but they were Amity kids through and through. The cold, powerful energy radiating off Fenton told them it was best to play along with whatever the ghost wanted.

“Perfectly alright Mr. Fenton,” Dash said softly, searching the 14 year old’s perpetually young face. He hadn’t changed a bit since Dash last saw him their second week of freshman year. It seemed unreal seeing how the years had taken their toll on Casper’s favorite son, Dash Baxter. God had they really been that young once? “Take a seat and we’ll get started.”

Danny shrugged and walked over to the seat Shannon had just vacated. He sat just the same, one leg stretched out and the other propped up against the leg of the desk. As soon as he took off the backpack and put it around the chair, it disappeared. He didn’t say anything else, just sat as stared at Dash with piercing blue eyes like he could see right through him.

“We had been talking about the lead up to the Civil War but let’s table that for today,” Dash said, proud his voice only wavered a little. He knew other people had seen Fenton around town. Lina saw him standing outside the Nasty Burger maybe five or so years ago. Dale, who used to live near Fenton Works swore he sometimes saw someone moving through the windows of the long abandoned house. He’d always secretly dreaded the thought of seeing Danny Fenton again, afraid he’d finally get was coming to him.

“Instead, we’re going to talk about local history,” he continued, not daring to take his eyes off the undead teen. Every other living student was tense, afraid. He wished he could assure them that the ghost wouldn’t lay a hand on them. In the event Fenton decided to ditch the hero schtick, it would be Dash and Dash alone he’d come after. “Amity Park has long had rumors of being haunted dating all the way back to the 1600s. It wasn’t until the last century that scientists determined that Amity Park is located on top of a thin spot between our world and the ghost realm. Natural portals form here all the time allowing spirits to pass through.”

No one spoke and barely anyone breathed except for Danny would wasn’t breathing at all. He just sat and stared at Dash with steady, unblinking eyes.

“Jack and Maddie Fenton were the scientists who discovered the weak point in reality in Amity. They devoted their entire life to the study of ghosts and made remarkable advancements in our knowledge of ectobiology and culture, the first being,” he paused as Danny cocked his head in confusion, squinting his eyes suspiciously at Dash. “The first being their manmade portal to the ghost zone. The portal remained active for almost two decades for research purposes but was shut down following their deaths.”

“You’re not Mr. Lancer,” Danny said suddenly, his eyes shifting from baby blue to an ectoplasmic green. Marty, who was sitting to the left of Danny, swallowed a squeak of fear and squeezed his eyes shut.

“No,” Dash sighed, “Lancer died almost thirty years ago now. Best teacher I ever had, he gave me his blessing when he passed on the job to me.”

“I,” the ghost ran his hand through his hair which was starting to lose its color. Seeing Fenton looking so scared and confused made him ache. It reminded him of old times. Dash had spent most of his life making sure he helped hurt kids if only to make up for the one he’d never been able to make it up to. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay, Danny,” he soothed. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“The portal, it wasn’t working at first,” Danny justified, his aura glowing a little more. “Sam and Tuck, they were curious. They wanted to look but I told them it wasn’t allowed, Sam, Sam she dared me to go in. I put on the hazmat suit and went inside and found the on button inside. I accidentally hit it and-” he paused midsentence and looked down at his hands. They weren’t pale flesh anymore but covered in white gloves. The black was completely bleached from his hair. A few of the students gasped as they saw the strange would be student melt into Phantom, the ghostly hero who’d been protecting their town since their parents were young. “I died.”

So much time had gone by. People were born and people were buried and the truth became distorted until it was just a legend passed jokingly around cafeteria lunch tables. Amity’s youth had forgotten their town’s history until it was sitting in a desk, trying once more to be one of them.

“You did,” Dash said sadly. He remembered hearing the news of Fenton's death. An assembly had been called the morning after the accident. Lancer had cried at the podium, Manson and Foley hadn’t returned to school for a week and had never been the same again. Dash hadn’t known what to think at the time, only that the kid he’d beat up for the crime of being different would never show up to school again. Or so he’d thought. “It was a tragedy, you were mourned by a lot of people.”

“I know you, don’t I?” Danny said quietly before he sat up straighter. “Dash?”

“In the flesh,” Dash grinned shakily.

“But you’re so old,” Danny said, once more distressed. “Your hair is grey and there’s wrinkles on your face and-and you’re a teacher now?” The last line was said with incredulity, his eyes flaring again. “You used to push me down the stone steps of the school and shove me into my locker and call me names.”

“Yeah, I did,” he sighed, feeling every one of his years. He was pushing 70 but he didn’t think he’d ever stop feeling like a stupid 14 year old who took out his frustrations on the ones who didn’t deserve it. “But you were the last; I never touched another kid again. I’m married now, four kids. I’m vice principal now, teach History and coach the school’s football team. It’s,” his voice caught again, still unable to process how young and stupid Fenton looked sitting there like no time had passed at all. It made Dash feel like all his accomplishments and attempts to be better would never amount to anything so long as his last victim roamed the earth unable to find peace. “It doesn’t fix what I did back then but I make damn sure that there won’t be any bullying at Casper so long as I’m here.”

“Huh,” Danny said, slouching once more in his seat but it looked less like his earlier teenage laziness and more weary. He and Dash were the same age after all, just because only one of them got old doesn’t mean time didn’t still affect them. “You did change, a lot of things did.” Danny looked down at the desk, “how long has it been?”

“Almost 50 years,” Dash sighed. “My wife wants me to retire but I guess I always find more things to do.” He paused then decided it was now or never. “I’m sorry Danny, for hurting you back then. I wish I'd gotten to know you better.”

For just a moment, Danny was perfectly clear. Even half floating out of his chair and looking like the local celebrity, his eyes were so painfully human. A boy killed before he ever got a chance to get started. Who’s will to protect was so strong it lasted half a century. It haunted him late at night to think of the glory and power of Phantom overshadowing just how incredible Danny Fenton had been. Not that anyone had seen it at the time. Soon there wouldn’t be anyone left to remember that quiet, kind teenager and then Danny Fenton really would be dead. Kill him just as thoroughly as that portal had.

The moment was broken by a breath of cold leaking out of the ghost’s lips and, just like that, his highschool classmate was gone and Phantom was left in his stead. He looked curiously around the classroom as if he didn’t know how he’d gotten there.

“There’s a ghost, stay here and don’t leave unless the fighting gets too close. I’ll get it though, don’t worry. No kids are dying today.” Maybe it was Dash’s imagination but he thought he saw Phantom’s eyes linger on him for an extra moment, trying to place where he knew the teacher from. Dash just smiled.

“Our lives are in your hands. Good luck, Phantom,” the ghost teen saluted before fading away entirely. Dash let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, suddenly exhausted but also lighter at the same time. It wasn’t every day you got to look your mistakes in the face and apologize. “Shannon, you can move back now.”

“No, I’m okay here,” Shannon said as she flipped to a new page in her sketchbook and looked intently at the spot where Fenton had once sat. “It’s like you said, that’s Danny’s seat.”

“I had no idea, Phantom’s been around for like, ever,” Freddie mumbled, pushing up his glasses. “But he used to be just like us.” And still was, Dash thought sadly. Danny would never grow old, never go to space like he’d always dreamed or marry Manson like he’d probably intended to. He was stuck, in more ways than one for who knows how long.

“Yes, that’s why it’s important to know your history. The Civil War and my other lessons are important but we can’t forget these smaller, more intimate histories. If we lose these lessons to time then we risk repeating the same mistakes over again.” He looked his students in the eyes, holding their attention.

“So we’ll continue today with the local history. Before he was ghost butt kicking superhero, Phantom was Danny Fenton, son of the local ghost hunters and a bit of an outcast in town. The Daniel Fenton Foundation was founded about a year after his death and was-”

#danny phantom #dead danny au #if bitch fartman won't redeem dash then I guess it up to me #god can you imagine growing up and growing old only to look at your past victim in the eye and see nothing has changed for him?#i could go on and on about what other characters got up to #but this is about the tragedy of the loss of Danny Fenton #not only his life but his memory #time moves on and Fenton got lost in the mix #once Dash's generation dies then Fenton will just be a cautionary tale #a ghost story #No one will remember that their hero was one long before he got his powers #god Im fuckign sad now #eat up and enjoy your angst

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helloalycia · 3 years ago

Text

The Wrong Lifetime — Fourteen // Wanda Maximoff

chapter thirteen | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | epilogue

author’s note: the last chapter is finally here! i hope you like it 😊

There were many times when I'd get distracted by thoughts of Wanda.

I could be going for a walk and remember that time she tripped over the flat pavement, almost bringing me down with her. I could be shopping for stationary and remember that time she almost bought the whole shop in one visit. I could be sitting by the water fountain and remember that time she tried to make a wish, only to drop her whole purse in it.

This time, I'd just woken up to the sun streaming through my curtains. I rolled over to an empty bed, hand brushing against the cold sheets as they expected more. For some reason, my subconscious decided to taunt me with a memory taking place just after we'd first made love in her room...

"I love you so much," Wanda told me with an enchanting smile.

I turned to face her, one arm comfortable under the pillow as the other rested outside the duvet, covering my bare chest. She raised her hand, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear before resting her hand there. I smiled at the contact and felt a warmth spreading all over me at the affectionate gaze she sent my way.

"I know, love, you only said it several times," I teased lightly, making her chuckle. "I love you, too, though, in case you didn't know."

She sighed contently, eyes closing. I admired how beautiful she looked with her hair sprawled over her bare shoulders, smile on her lips and freckles dusting her skin. Her touch still ghosted my body, taste still embedded between my lips, scent still wavering in my nose. She was permanent and I was certain she'd never leave.

"We should probably get up in case somebody comes to check on us," she said, interrupting my moment of admiration.

Her eyes flickered open slowly, blue with golden flecks glistening right back at me. Suddenly, anything that happened after this didn't matter to me. For once, I appreciated where we were, what we had and nothing more or less. No wedding, no future... just now.

"We should," I agreed regretfully, though her leg moved closer to mine and made me wish we could stay here longer. "I wish we didn't have to."

She smiled halfheartedly, hand moving down my cheek, caressing the skin, before they rested at my chin. She outlined my lips with her thumb before leaning forward and stealing a kiss.

"Can't we have a few more minutes?" she asked, lips brushing mine as she spoke.

She was making it very hard to deny her and judging from the playful smirk on her lips, she knew that.

"I guess we can," I agreed quietly, making her smile with satisfaction.

She rolled on top of me, capturing my lips in a kiss as her bare chest pressed to mine and my hand found her waist for support. As usual, the effect she had on me was indescribable and I couldn't imagine us ever leaving the bed. I knew for sure that I'd never been happier than I was in that moment.

It was such a perfect moment, but it haunted me. Nothing felt right without her. She'd overwhelmed all of my senses and remained, even when I didn't have her by me in person. The wedding was literally in a few weeks, but I hadn't managed to get over her.

How could I be her maid of honour when I could barely speak to her? Not without wanting to curl in a ball and cry afterwards. Every thing I did seemed to be filled with memories of her. She was inescapable.

A groan left my lips as I dragged my hand down my face with frustration. I couldn't let her get to me yet again. I had an interview with the local paper today. The last thing I needed was Wanda as a distraction.

So, with that lovely thought lingering in my mind, I dragged myself out of bed to get ready for the day ahead.

—

Press interviews weren't something I was used to.

Whenever Y/B/N had them with journalists for his books, I wasn't present. The only thing I heard was when he came back and told me how it went, then I proceeded to read about it in the paper the next day.

I was sat in Steve's office at Maximoff Publishing with Steve sat by my side, sending me a supportive smile. A journalist from the local paper sat before us, notebook and pen in hand as he watched on with curious eyes.

"So, Y/N," he began. "I'll start with the obvious, if you don't mind."

I glanced at Steve who nodded encouragingly. Clearing my throat, I looked to the journalist. "Sure thing."

He smiled and glanced at his notebook before asking, "How does it feel to be published? You're Pietro Maximoff's first female author."

"An author who happens to be female," I corrected, hoping I didn't come off as rude. "And that isn't something that should be new, in my opinion. It should be normalised."

He nodded, noting it down in his notebook. "Controversy... I like it."

Swallowing hard, I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"I think the readers would like to know how you managed to score a publisher," he began his next question. "How exactly did you get noticed amongst the many authors that look to be published?"

Okay, not so difficult, I could answer that.

"Well, it was actually my–" I paused, Wanda's face flashing to mind. Okay, maybe a little difficult.

"Your...?" the journalist prompted.

I blinked, attempting to find my words.

"Wanda," Steve answered, starting me off.

I looked to him with grateful eyes before looking back to the journalist. "Right. Yes. Wanda."

"Your brother's fiancé, right?" the journalist asked for clarification.

"Yes," I answered, with an accidental clipped tone. "She... she was the one who gave my work to her brother. Asked him to look at it. And the rest is history."

The journalist was making notes as I spoke, nodding and humming in response, before looking to me with raised brows.

"So, the wedding," he said, making me wince subtly. "Are you excited?"

Forcing a smile, I said, "Ecstatic."

"How does it feel to have your two families uniting?" he asked, and I chewed on my lips, unsure how to respond.

"I– er–"

"Are you afraid that Y/B/N marrying Wanda may put him in Pietro's good graces?" he interrupted eagerly, leaning forward in his seat.

I opened my mouth to answer, but I didn't know what to say that wouldn't land me in hot water or make me look like a jealous sibling. Glancing to Steve questioningly, he thankfully noticed my speechlessness and gave the journalist a warning stare.

"Can you stay on topic, please?" he asked the keen journalist. "Y/N is here to talk about her book and nothing more."

"Okay, okay," the journalist gave in, making me exhale slowly. "What's next in store for your readers, Y/N? A sequel, perhaps?"

"I'm not sure," I answered truthfully. "I'm still in awe at the reception from the first one."

He nodded, note taking as he listened. "How many books do you think you'll get out of your career before getting married like your brother?"

I raised my eyebrows with disbelief. But I didn't get to answer as he was already moving onto his next question.

"Are you not worried about getting married? You know, men don't like smart women."

Narrowing my eyes at him, I clenched my fists by my side and was very close to strangling him before we were interrupted. A servant whom I recognised from home knocked on the door and earned everyone's attention.

"Oh, tell him to go away," the journalist said dismissively, waving his hand.

Steve looked to me and I plastered a bitter smile on my lips as I glanced at the journalist.

"I'd let him in if I were you," I told Steve, and he seemed to understand that I was about to pummel the journalist if I wasn't distracted, because he nodded and motioned for the servant to enter.

The journalist sighed rudely and I clenched my jaw before looking to the servant with a quirked brow. He looked out of breath, panting for air and face flushed red.

"Did you run here?" I realised, cocking my head to the side with confusion.

He nodded, straightening up and attempting to catch his breath. "Yes, Miss Y/L/N. Very sorry to interrupt, but your mother insisted I hurry."

My eyes widened. "Oh, God, what happened? Is she okay?"

"Kind of," he answered, before clarifying, "The wedding between your brother and Miss Maximoff has been cancelled."

"What?!" everyone in the room asked at the same time.

What did he mean the wedding had been cancelled?! Wanda and Y/B/N weren't going to get married?

"I don't know the details," the servant got out quickly. "I just know that your mother sent me to fetch you as soon as possible. She's distraught and requires you home immediately."

I nodded instantly, already making a move to stand up, then I remembered where I was.

"You mustn't publish anything you just heard," I told the journalist with a stern finger, but he seemed over the moon at the news.

"Go, Y/N, your mother needs you," Steve said, resting a hand on my shoulder as he, too, stood up. He side-eyed the journalist as he added, "I'll take care of this tool."

At that, the journalist's eyes widened with fear and judging from the smirk on Steve's lips, I knew things would be okay.

"Thank you," I told him, hugging him quickly, before looking to the servant. "I'll go now. Thank you."

After giving the servant some money to grab a treat and calm him from his breathless state, I got a carriage home with my mind racing a million thoughts a minute.

Why was the wedding off? My mum was distraught, according to the servant, so that could only mean it hadn't been her choice. Was it Y/B/N? Had he broken it off? Or maybe it was Wanda? But no. She'd never do that. She wouldn't hurt her family like that.

I wasn't sure what it was, but I definitely didn't know how to feel. This could either be heavily in my favour or go against me in the worst way possible...

When I arrived home, I found my family in the dining room. My mum was sat down, upset and shaking her head in her hands, tear marks on her face. My dad was sat beside her, rubbing her back soothingly and whispering calming things to her as my brother stood to the side, looking apologetic and uncomfortable.

"It's okay, mum, it'll be okay," he was saying to her from across the table. "It's not a big deal. I can find somebody–"

"Hello...," I began awkwardly, standing in the doorway and hesitant to move forward. "I just got the news from our servant. What happened?"

"Oh, Y/N, you shouldn't have–" my father began regretfully, before my mum slammed her hand on the table and glared at my brother.

"Y/B/N broke off the engagement!" she shouted with frustration.

"There you go...," my dad mumbled before returning his attention to his wife.

"Mum, I–"

"You did what?!" I cut Y/B/N off with raised brows. "You broke off the engagement? You dumped Wanda?"

He looked to me with sad eyes. "Y/N–"

"You idiot!" I shouted, feeling angry as I imagined the effect this must have had on the Maximoff family. "What the hell is wrong with you?! Why would you–?!"

He grabbed my waving arm and dragged me out of the dining room, making me shove him off when we reached the hall.

"Why the hell did you break it off?!" I yelled at him with a glare. "Why would you–"

"I didn't!" he whisper-shouted back, looking down at me with a downcast expression. "She did!"

My anger faded as I realised he was telling the truth. He looked genuinely hurt, eyes glassy and a frown on his lips. Wanda was the one to break it off? What?

"She broke it off with me," he elaborated quietly, so our parents couldn't hear. "She told me this morning. She said she didn't love me and that she couldn't marry me."

I swallowed hard, looking away from him momentarily. "Why did you tell mum and dad that it was you who broke up with her?"

He pinched his forehead with agitation. "Because it looks a lot less foolish if I say it was me rather than her. She doesn't love me, Y/N. She never did."

I risked looking at him, seeing his disheartened expression. Part of me felt guilty because I knew it was my fault this had happened, but I couldn't exactly say that to him, so I stayed quiet. He shook his head once more before walking away, leaving me standing there with shock.

"Er, Miss Y/L/N?"

I spun around when one of our servants approached me.

"I know now isn't the best time," she began, "but a letter came for you earlier. I left it on your desk as you were at work."

Nodding, I offered the servant a halfhearted smile before watching her leave. There was so much to unpack right now...

I headed upstairs and to my room to see what letter was here for me. But I was finding it hard to focus since all that was on my mind was the broken engagement and Y/B/N and Wanda... I needed to see her. What the hell was I doing here?

Planning on going to see Wanda as soon as possible, I grabbed the letter from my desk with the intention of reading it on the way out, but then I recognised the handwriting on the front and paused at my desk.

It was Wanda's handwriting.

I hurried to tear open the envelope, wondering what she had to say. It was no doubt related to the broken engagement.

Dearest Y/N,

I hope that you manage to read this letter before you hear the news, but knowing our families, you'll read it afterwards. In which case, you will know that I have broken off the engagement with Y/B/N.

It was the right thing to do. I chose to do it and I'm sorry if it's caused tension between your brother and your family, but I knew that I couldn't go forward with it when I'm in love with you. I'm not expecting you to come back to me and run away together all dramatically – this isn't about that.

I did this for myself. I'm not in love with your brother and I never was. He should have known that. He had to. Because if not, I'm afraid I broke his heart. And that's the last thing I wanted.

I also did this for you. I need you to know that I'm not heartless or horrible and I didn't expect you to sacrifice anything for me. Cheating on your brother with you... I never meant for this to happen, nor did I mean to get in the way of you both. Falling in love with you was completely accidental, but I don't regret it.

I don't want to go on too much, but I just needed you to know the truth, from me, that I am truly sorry for causing you such pain. I'm still in love with you and I'll never forget what we had. In another lifetime, maybe we could have worked. I'm certain that you were always perfect for me, as was what we had. You are magic, Y/N. I just wasn't powerful enough to keep you.

When I finished reading, I flipped the page over, expecting to find more, but it was blank. She'd ended it there and I didn't know what to think. My heart was racing, mind adjusting too slowly for my liking. She'd broke it off with him for me. I knew she loved me, but I guess I'd never realised just how much.

After recovering from my shock, I put the letter away and left for Wanda's, not bothering to tell my family where I was going. My dad was attempting to console my disappointed mother as Y/B/N moped around somewhere else, so I took that as my chance to nip out without them noticing.

I was trying to plan what to say to her – I didn't even know what I wanted to say to her. She said she didn't expect me to get back with her, and even without Y/B/N and their engagement in the way, we still couldn't be together. Not like how we wanted to be. But I wanted to. I wanted her. All this time without her had been heartbreaking – I didn't want to leave her again. I didn't know the specifics of how we would work, but we could work. We had to.

When I reached her house, it was her mother who opened the door. And that's when I realised that I wasn't sure if she blamed Y/B/N or her daughter for the engagement breaking apart.

"Iryna, hi," I greeted with a nervous smile. "I'm sorry if this is a bad time–"

"Y/N, I'm glad you're here," she cut me off, immediately pulling me in for a hug. "Thank you for coming."

I nodded with mild confusion, returning the hug, before pulling away.

"I'm so sorry for the pain Wanda has caused to your family," she said regretfully. "I hope that your parents aren't as distraught as we are."

I eyed her strangely, still not sure what Wanda had told her. Either way, I didn't bother questioning it as my urgency to see Wanda was overpowering my curiosity.

"It's okay, Iryna, there's no need to apologise," I reassured her. "My family will be okay... I just thought I'd come and check in on Wanda. It's a lot, what happened."

She nodded sympathetically. "Thank you, sweetheart. You're such a good friend to her." She stood to the side to let me in. "Go on up. She's in her room. Hasn't come out since this morning."

I offered a small, awkward smile Iryna's way before letting myself in and going upstairs to Wanda's room. My palms were sweaty and my mouth was dry – stupidly juxtaposed – when I stopped before Wanda's door. On the way over here, I still hadn't decided what to say. I figured it would just come to me when I saw her. One could hope.

Knocking on the door, I heard her sweet, accented voice give me permission to enter. My stomach flipped at the sound and I did as she said. Closing the door behind me, I turned and saw Wanda sat at a stool before a canvas.

Noticing I didn't say anything, she glanced over her shoulder casually, probably expecting a family member. She widened her eyes when she realised it was me and immediately stood up, smoothing out her paint-covered smock in an attempt to look neater. The simple action warmed my heart – she was adorable and I couldn't help but smile.

"Hi," I said quietly.

She cleared her throat, eyes darting around nervously. "Hey. I didn't– what are– hi."

I let my eyes wander, admiring her messy ponytail and the strokes of paint on her face that she definitely wasn't aware of. She was stunning, even with her confused eyes and pursed lips. Better yet, her hand was ring-free and I was reminded of the fact that she wasn't engaged anymore.

"I assume you're here because you read the letter," she began apologetically, but I didn't let her finish because the longer I was in her presence, the more I realised I wanted to kiss her.

Approaching her, I found her eyes before pressing my lips to hers. My hands cupped her cheeks as I held her close, revelling in her taste and scent and touch. She was quick to react, her fingers curling around my waist and tugging me towards her, squeezing our bodies together. Breathing became a problem and we regretfully had to pull away, but remained close enough to exchange breaths and swim in each other's eyes. I'd never been more relieved to see the colour green.

"You're not mad," she realised, looking between my eyes as if trying to search for some anger.

"How can I be mad that you broke off your engagement for me, knowing we can never be together in the way that you deserve?" I asked with disbelief.

She smiled beautifully, making my heart flutter in my chest. "You still love me."

I stole another kiss from her lips. "I never stopped, Wanda. Of course I still love you."

She rested her forehead to mine and closed her eyes peacefully. "Thank you for coming back."

I laughed, feeling tears brim my eyes. "I'm not leaving again, love. We'll find a way to make this work. I promise you that."

Wanda Maximoff deserved the world. And I was going to give it to her in this lifetime and beyond.

#wanda maximoff au #marvel #wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff x you #marvel imagine #wanda maximoff #mcu #wanda maximoff imagine #scarlet witch #scarlet witch imagine #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen x reader

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remsmoonlight · 3 years ago

Text

— title : a sweet truth

— word count : 2.1k words

— pairing : john wich x reader

— summary : you get an overwhelming need to share with John how you feel, unable to keep it to yourself anymore, leaving only the good to follow.

— warnings : none, issa soft one

note: my first one shot back and it’s john of course! anyways i need to binge the movies again because this man’s voice was difficult to master this time around, now i will be getting to requests now i have indulged myself oops

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* requests are open ! *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The dull crackle that runs mindlessly beneath the audio of the radio is the only sound that can be heard illuminating the space of the bedroom where you and John lay contently together. He’d offered to repair the object, or even buy another but you refused stubbornly — remarking that it gives it a certain endearing charm. You had joked that it reminds you of him. In the sense that while it has a flaw, it was able to bring joy and amusement to a person’s life. It’s humbling to know that even the John Wick was human, that he had his flaws despite being difficult to witness them in the flesh.

It took a lot for John to bare the darkest and most damaged parts of his conscience. He couldn’t go another day where his mind leapt endlessly to conclusions, his mind conjuring haunting images of your departing body that would eventually come to pass — to him, it was inevitable. He fully convinced himself he was hallucinating when you had not retreated in fear, with the look of disgust cosying up to your reflection, but the opposite. He is still a man greatly feared by a whole world beneath yours, yet you still gaze upon him with nothing but warmth.

You will your mind to focus on the words from the small object, yet it’s the heat that is emitting from his body in waves that prevent you from fully taking in what is being said, its presence doing more to provide white noise than entertainment. The minor glint in your gaze turns upwards to drag your sight across the body that half lays on top of you.

Like vines, to be found in a twist of limbs that would be almost difficult to distinguish what belongs to who is a common occurrence, the sense of shielded from the scorching realities that the world bares boldly is an addicting concoction that you can only find with him. Your heart swells tenfold at the mere thought of him and being here in such a simple way that holds so much affection just for two people.

“ What ? “

The suddenness of his voice lifts you from your thoughts that run their own race, a shy lift of your lips can be seen twirling gracefully in response.

“ Nothing, I’m just thinking. “

“ Thinking? “ he asks you, a light hint of laughter gently coating the question with a feather-like touch. “ Are you trying to scare me? “

Eyes widen in response to what he says, a heavy burst of air plummeting to the soft mattress below the two of you. “ Don’t be so rude! “ A short chuckle trails behind your reply, secretly loving the cheeky side of his personality coming out to peek out.

You’ve realised that he has a warmth whenever you’re together, but even still he maintains an air of such seriousness you’re surprised he has not collapsed under the pressure of holding such a wall up with his bare hands, these moments are the kind that you paint mentally — a still of this moment in a thousand shades of gold. Upon your first meeting of his, you’d never associate that with him, with how intimidating and stone faced he was, it would be a honeyed lie if someone would have described him in such a way but here he is. Not a honeyed lie but a sweet tasting truth that you never want to be without again.

“ I’m sorry. “ he apologises as the amusement in his tones still very much present that would aim to refer to him as a hypocrite, but it’s not spoken with vitriol, his words directed towards you rarely contain any harshness. “ Tell me, I’m curious. “

It’s a minor debate that dances with only itself, zig zagging with a biro pen that creates a mess of lines converging at multiple points to create a tangle plot point that should not be as complicated as it’s being made out. Neither of you have muttered the L word, not even under your breath in passing and the one dominating emotion you can feel overwhelming your body entirely is incredibly close to it.. but is it too soon? Even as a description? It’s a fear you can feel tickling your neck from behind, whispering stained words of discouragement, but if you have learnt anything, it’s that hiding your feelings will be worse off in the long run. Never can a human being strive for the euphoria of authentic happiness clutched in their fist when they lock away their thoughts and their desires in a box to gather age and dust — leaving behind a hollow shell of what could have been had it the opportunity to bud and grow.

“ Well.. “ you begin, your sight lowering to meet the sight of his neck, unable to look him in the eyes fully and you approach the topic. “ I was thinking about you. “

“ Yeah? “

“ I’m just.. happy. More than I thought I could be and it’s you I have to thank. “ Your shoulders shrug as best they can from your position laying down on the bed.

“ I think I should be the one saying that. “ he replies softly, his words ringing truer than they could ever be realised to be as he leans down to leave behind a ghost of a peck behind your ear. It’s an action that is short and sweet.

Never did John imagine himself being rewarded for being the architect in more tragedies and more horrors than he could ever recall. Though, he soon realised your presence was rather the opposite, a ticket to a greener field void of bloodied bargains and death, and should he keep you in his life that would be an opportunity he would not let pass him by in a sea of missed chances left to drown due to his lack of motivation. He gazes upon you fondly in affection, a hand reaching up to draw mindless circles in the back of your hair, memories of his last bargain to leave his previous life playing before him as if an old gritty movie.

“ Stop it, John. I haven’t done a thing! “ your nose wrinkles as you refute what he says with a bashful glint that explodes in your gaze. After all the time you’d spent together and you still refuse to see yourself in the way John has painted you in —

“ You’ve done more for me than you realise. “

It feels like yesterday you shared your first kiss, fondly remembering how you’d mentally remarked that it’s so unfair that what is between you should be so perfect, a cruel joke were it not to work out. Though your heart is full of gratitude when you still tell yourself that not a worry should be had, your need for a physical reminder as you move your hand to his clothed back — bringing him closer as if to burn a permanent reminder into your fingertips.

“ I guess that’s why we compliment each other so well, huh? “

A wispy sigh plummets, your thoughts and emotions mixing more and more into a blend of intensity as you fully realise just how much you have fallen and adore the man who shares your bed. It has been such a long time you have had these emotions to this degree rouse from, what has felt like, an endless slumber. Yes, there had been a few who had caught your eye, but compared to the substance that has been created and nurtured from you both, they had nothing more than a water drop in a boundless and enduring sea. It’s a hope of yours that you don’t look foolish before him, getting so emotional over something like this, you scold yourself mentally — trying to pull yourself together before you completely crumble.

“ What’s wrong? “

“ It’s nothing, really. “ you shake your head, accompanying the almost denial. You want to let everything in your heart free, but the question is how to without scaring him off. There’s not much that can scare him, but you’d rather not throw a spanner in the flawless equation.

“ You don’t have to tell me, but it might help if you do. “ John lends a soothing weight in your hand as he interlocks your fingers together, leaving the choice completely up to you, refusing to force you to share something that is so personal to you. “ it’s your call. “

“ It’s nothing crazy.. “

The side of John’s brain that has been hardwired to jump to every scenario imaginable — good and bad, is running rampant. Itching to be prepared so nothing is able to disrupt the perfect day dream of a life that had only been made available through television shows and movies, now that he has it, every day he promises to never let it be ruined. Nothing good can ever occur from ripping away the first drop of water that touches a person starved of it for days, only a troublesome path of anger can walk that path on its twisted and turned limbs.

“ I think it’s time that I tell you how I feel, “ you state, your lips almost devouring your lips by how hard they bite them, a lost thought of how you have not drawn a drop of blood seeping into irrelevancy. “ how I really feel. “

“ Right? “

For the first time, John is completely unable to get a read of you. The apprehension that is emitting off you in strong waves is not something that comforts him fully, though the fact that you speak not from anger and have opted to stay in your current position as opposed to fleeing is the only source of relief he can continue to draw energy from. Curiosity is the only thing that dominates his mind, wanting desperately to hear the next part of your statement.

In his silence, your brows furrow purely from your own thoughts. Mainly in the wonder of how you can approach this while sounding as if you have capacity and are not obsessed with him as some are with their idols. You know that would be something that would probably scare him off. Your fingertips lay a random beat on the top of his hand, you nestle closer to him as to make yourself comfortable — this does feel like the right time. Should it not? You remind yourself that it is part of a plan that the universe has for you, that it is part of a bigger picture you are not allowed to know until the final moment.

“ I just, “ you pause, blinking as you gather your thoughts and your words further. “ It’s been a long time since I’ve felt anything remotely close to this. “

Your words are like a cozy kiss goodnight before two lovers depart until the next time they see each other, a warmth that slowly grows in his heart overspills at the sentiment you individually wrap with each word you speak. He can’t help but tip his head ever so slightly, to take in every detail on your features — in his mind, nothing is more so perfect than this moment.

“ What I’m trying to say is, and you don’t have to say anything — “ the rambling leaves your lips so effortlessly, as if to savour the last few moments of normally before the inevitable confession. “ I can’t help but realise how much I am in love with you. “

His eyes widen instantaneously as his features follow suit, his lips part in surprise. With how your speech had begun, it should not have come as a surprise, yet to hear it from your lips is as pleasant as the final summer’s day, surrounded by warmth and an impenetrable energy that shields you from any harm that would befall you. He’d lived the life of a haunting ghost story that it soon became a belief that he was a monster, to hear you in this moment recite something so real is something that is difficult for him to wrap his head around. Maybe he isn’t a monster that has made its peace with the darkness, that there is more for him as a person.

The emptiness is soon replaced by a soft weight on your lips, he has leans down to join you — unable to fight the desire to savour the taste of him as you often do when you kiss. It’s a fight you have not yet one, and it’s a fight you imagine you would prefer losing. Time is no longer a concept, you’re too wrapped up in the concept turned reality that is John Wick, only are you able to concentrate on the burning that his free hand leaves as they slide up and down your waist. If this is a dream, neither of you want to awaken.

“ Who says I’m not feeling the same as you? “

#John Wick imagine #John Wick x reader #john wick oneshot #john wick fanfic #john wick fanfiction

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moonlit-jeno · 4 years ago

Text

evanescence (m.)

pairing: kim jungwoo x fem. reader

genre/warnings: ghost au, explicit sexual content, angst, fluff, mentions of death, some graphic violence/ gore, character death, brief mention of heights, i swear it’s not as bad as it sounds

word count: 7.8k

summary:

evanescence (n.): the quality of being fleeting or vanishing quickly; impermanence; i.e the evanescence of dreams

song to listen to: me & your ghost- blackbear, faded in my last song- nct, trampoline- SHAED, lonely heart- 5 seconds of summer, dreaming with a broken heart- john mayer

notes: evanescence i.e not the band who wrote my immortal <3 part of the almost collab!

The thing about fear is that it’s irrational.

Of course the doll in the corner of your room won’t suddenly come alive and kill you. Of course the spider on your ceiling is actually harmless. Of course nightmares won’t come true and haunt you in your daily life, won’t do more than bother you for a few minutes when you’re asleep. Knowing that doesn’t make it any less scary. Doesn’t stop the shivers from crawling up your spine, doesn’t ease your breathing when you curl into yourself in an attempt to hide.

Some people find comfort in crawling under their blankets, hiding themselves from the rest of the world as if the thick cloth will protect them. You don’t have that luxury. Because the thing you fear isn’t some axe murderer breaking into your house, or some mutant spider wrapping you up in a web. It’s not ghosts or ghouls or demons.

It’s sleep itself.

You used to love sleeping. Naps were considered a favorite hobby of yours, a way to escape from your obligations temporarily or lift your spirits during a bad day. But the line between like and dislike is thin, and the peaceful dreams you were accustomed to transformed into terrors that torture your nights and leave you shaking and sleep deprived when you wake.

Coffee becomes your best friend, the drink becoming a crutch that you use desperately to avoid reliving the nightmare that haunts you every time your eyes fall shut. It’s always the same scene: a basement, a young man being tortured by a masked figure. Punched, strangled, stabbed. It’s always in that order, with the exact same amount of punches and stabbings each time- six. It’s worse than any movie you’ve ever seen, worse than anything that you can imagine. And yet it doesn’t get any less horrifying as time goes on, as you relive the same thing over and over again.

The only thing that changes is the point of view. Sometimes you can see it from his perspective, begging for mercy from an expressionless figure whose ears fall deaf to the boy’s pleas. That’s the worst, you think, because you can feel everything. It leaves you frantically checking yourself for wounds and marks and bruises, the vividness of your dream leaving you shocked when you find your skin unmarred. Sometimes you watch from the corner of the room, able to see everything yet unable to help, your voice stuck in your throat when you attempt to cry for help. And sometimes, you’re the killer, repeatedly delivering blow after blow in a body you can’t control.

Tonight’s different. Instead of the boy strapped to the chair, it’s you.

You shake and cry out, trying desperately to free yourself of the restraints. They aren’t strong, and yet your limbs feel like jelly and you can’t break free of them. A shadow looms over you and you look up, expecting to see the killer, but you don’t. Instead, the boy stands over you.

His features are softer like this, not scrunched in pain or splattered with blood and bruises. He smiles gently at you.

“Hello,” He says, kneeling down in front of you. One hand lands on yours and the restraints fall away, your limbs now free. “I’m Jungwoo.” You just blink at him. “I’ve seen you in my dreams.” Jungwoo’s smile falters a bit, and he huffs a humorless laugh. “That… yeah. That’s less of a dream and more of a…” He trails off, shrugs. “Memory.”

It takes a moment for it to process fully. Memory? If that’s his memory, then that means that he had to go through all of that. “I’m- I’m so sorry. Who put you through that?” He shrugs. “Dunno. But I wouldn’t pity me too much.” There’s a tight lipped smile on his face. “I’m the one that’s made you go through it, too.”

You blink once, twice, and feel the sympathy in your bones turn to fury. “Why?” You ask, tears brimming at your eyes. “I didn’t do anything to you! And you still tortured me, every night. Do you know how terrified I was? I am?”

“I’m sorry.” Jungwoo says, eyes downcast. “I didn’t even know I was projecting onto you at first. I would just get so consumed with what happened that night, and I guess you would relive the scene with me.” He takes a slow step towards you and raises his head. “I never meant to hurt you, I’m sorry.” You nod, because what can you say? Jungwoo doesn’t seem to know either and he stands there, shifting from foot to foot, looking everywhere but at you. “So.” You start, head tilting to the side curiously. “How does this work?” “How does what work?” Jungwoo seems surprised, but whether it’s by your question or by the fact that you’re able to string a coherent sentence together is lost on you.

“I dunno. This. Like are you a ghost? Do you just like, live inside my head now.” “Yeah, I mean I’m dead so I must be a ghost. Haven’t had much time to talk to people and ask.” It’s not meant to be funny, but you can’t stop yourself from laughing. You clear your throat to cover it, trying to focus your energy on your next words. He doesn’t look too hurt at your amusement, though. His eyes are twinkling.

“Hmm let’s test it. If you live in my head, you should be able to hear my thoughts right?” Jungwoo stares at you, bringing one hand up to stroke his chin thoughtfully. Finally, he snaps his fingers. “Got it! You want pizza.” “Nope! I want you out of my head.” Your smile is sickeningly sweet. Jungwoo rolls his eyes, tongue sticking into his cheek briefly before laughing.

“Well, I want to be alive but here we are. Guess we’re at a standstill.”

Guilt fills you and you open your mouth to apologize, but Jungwoo disappears right before your eyes. You try to call out after him but it’s too late, the dream’s over. The annoying beep of your alarm replaces his soft laughter and you groan, fumbling with your phone to turn the sound off.

Classes pass quickly for once, although you’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t register any of the material. You’re done for the day before you know it, finding yourself at a cafe with Johnny. “You’re in a good mood.” He comments, looking at you with his eyebrows furrowed. “Did you get replaced by aliens?” You roll your eyes. “I can be in a good mood, Johnny.” It’s rarely true because you’re normally running off of approximately six minutes of sleep, but hey, it still counts.

Johnny raises his eyebrows. “Y/n, you’re never in a good mood. Not even when your best friend is here.”

“My best friend is here? Where?” Johnny gives you a deadpan expression and you laugh, popping a grape into your mouth. “Kidding, you know I love you. But guess what: I actually slept last night!” He gasps so obnoxiously loud that he inhales the chip he was holding and chokes around it, slamming his hand down on the table and hacking his lungs out. You put your head in your hands until he finally recovers. “You slept? You actually slept? Holy fuck, you did get replaced by aliens!”

“No aliens, John. No nightmares either.” Johnny, though he’s your best friend, doesn’t know the details of your dreams. He knows that they’re bad enough to make you cry and curl up in his arms from time to time, knows that you chug energy drinks to avoid sleeping, but that’s about it. No gruesome murders in sight for him.

“Holy shit, that’s great! We should celebrate.” Johnny reaches across the table to high five you, grinning from ear to ear. “Wanna come over and crack open a few cold ones?” He bites his lip and you know that it’s taking all of his effort not to finish that sentence.

You appreciate it, but you shake your head. “I’ve got a lab report to finish plus like two papers due. I really don’t have time.” That’s only slightly true. Yes, you do have homework, but you normally wouldn’t let that stop you. The itch to see Jungwoo again, however crazy it may sound, is driving you crazy and for once in your life, you can’t wait to fall asleep. Seeing Johnny’s expression drop makes you feel a little bad for bailing on him with a ghost. “Maybe this weekend?”

“Yeah, for sure.” Johnny grins again. “Hopefully you get to sleep tonight.”

The nightmares seem to go away permanently after that. Your dreams always take place in that one room, but Jungwoo’s always there to greet you. A month passes and you learn a lot about him, almost to the point where you see him as a friend. Almost. Because you can’t really be friends with someone who isn’t alive, right? But he feels real. His spirit is still alive, to the point where you forget he’s a ghost who you can only talk to in your dreams, and that’s what matters. Except tonight when you fall asleep, you open your eyes to sand and salt water, gentle waves calmly lapping at the shore. Strange. Jungwoo sits with his back facing you, knees drawn up to his chest. He doesn’t look up when you sit down next to him, but he does speak when you say his name softly.

“I think I figured out why I came back.” Jungwoo says, eyes concentrated on the water. “My brother’s in danger.” His head drops to rest on his knees and you pat his back, not knowing what to say.

You don’t learn what Jungwoo meant until the next night, the man so distraught that he isn’t able to form words before your time’s up. The scene is different again this time, a playground replacing the beach from the night before. Jungwoo sits on a red plastic swing, his feet dragging on the ground sadly.

“Hey Jungwoo.” You call out the greeting gently, taking a seat next to him. “Are you okay?” He nods, laughs a little. “Yeah, sorry for freaking out last night. It’s just. It’s a lot.” “Sounds like it is. You wanna talk about it?” You pat his knee comfortingly and he stares at your hand for a long moment before covering it with his own.

He tells you about his brother first, about how much he misses Mark, about how bad he feels for leaving him on his own. Mark’s younger than him, but only by a year, and he was nowhere near as good as him at FIFA. He tells you that he doesn’t remember who killed him, but that as soon as he was transported to the beach, he knew his brother was in danger. There’s no explanation on how the beach told him that, but you have no place questioning the afterlife. You listen patiently throughout the whole story, and it seems to help Jungwoo, his shoulders sagging with relief when he’s done.

“So whoever killed me,” Jungwoo squeezes your hand, stares at the woodchips dragging around. “They’re going to kill my brother next.”

“So we find your killer. Easy.” You squeeze his hand back. “Mark’s going to be okay, Woo. I promise.”

Tonight’s dream takes place on a rooftop. There are lights strung up that lead you straight to Jungwoo, the man facing you with a smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes. His arms are outstretched and you walk into them, sighing softly when he wraps you in his embrace. Lips press to your forehead and you swear you’ve reached heaven. “Dance with me.” He whispers it as if you have a choice to disagree with him when he looks this good. You nod and bury your face in his chest, swaying with him under the stars. There’s music playing now, music that you didn’t hear before, and he hums softly to it as you dance. A squeal leaves you when he spins you, dipping you down before pulling you close, your back to his chest. His lips graze your ear and he laughs before spinning you back around and pulling you into a kiss.

It feels so good and you find yourself getting lost in his touch. The warmth of him against you, the solidness of his chest under your palms. It’s so nice, so comforting, so… real. But it can’t be real. Because this is a dream, because Jungwoo is dead. The thought is enough to jolt you out of your haze and you try to pull back, need to pull back, but the hand on the back of your head holds you still and it feels so good that you almost don’t want to pull out of his embrace. “Jungwoo,” you mumble his name against his lips, not wanting to pull away from the kiss but needing to know the answer to your question. “Jungwoo, are you real?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Jungwoo chuckles, pulling you back for more. “Don’t I feel real?”

A gasp leaves you when his hand slips lower to your ass, squeezing before slipping between your thighs. He finds little resistance, easily reaching under your dress and past the thin panties you’re wearing to swipe through your folds and enter you, stretching you out deliciously well. You cling to him as if he’s your life line and not the other way around, letting him take you apart with his fingers. His name leaves your lips in a sob and you press your face against his neck, clutch at his shoulders. “Please, Jungwoo, please.”

Both of his hands slide to your ass and he picks you up easily, your legs wrapping around his waist automatically. He carries you over to the ledge of the roof, setting you down on the cool stone. He barely gives you time to take in what’s happening before he’s dropping to his knees in front of you, his eyes dark and so intense that you can’t look away from his gaze as he attaches his lips to your thighs. You slide one hand into his hair and he moans into your skin, the vibrations traveling through you as he kisses his way up your thighs and to your core. A sigh leaves you and you put your other hand behind you for balance, your heart dropping to your stomach when your fingertips wrap around the edge of the balcony. “Jungwoo!” You yelp immediately trying to stand up when you look behind you and see the darkness below you, decorated with lights from buildings so far down that they’re almost as tiny as the stars above you. “Jungwoo, I’m gonna fall. Ohmygod I’m gonna fall, Woo-”

“Shh,” Jungwoo hushes you, rubbing your thigh soothingly. He reaches for your hand and laces your fingers together, taking a moment to press his lips to the back of your hand. “Look at me, y/n. You’re not going to fall, okay? I’ll always be here to catch you if you do.” Something in his eyes looks so honest, so sincere, and you find yourself nodding slowly.

“Okay.” Your voice comes out as a whisper, too scared to raise it any louder and break the moment between you. “I trust you.” Jungwoo smiles up at you one more time before lowering himself down to your core. His free hand lifts the edge of your dress up and he takes his time rubbing slow circles into your clit, sighing out praises about how good you are when you shake from the unbearably intense sensation. His eyes stay on yours the whole time, even as he lowers his mouth to your pussy and eats you out like a man starved. It feels so good that you can barely process it, squirming against him and letting your eyes roll back.

“Fuck, Jungwoo,” You whimper, feeling your orgasm build up in the pit of your stomach. “Shit, c’mere.” You use the hand buried in his hair to tug him up, pressing his lips to yours for a sloppy kiss that feels way too good for the moment. He rubs messy circles into your clit that have you clutching him tight to your chest, crying out his name so loud that you’re sure the entire city can hear you. “You like that?” Jungwoo asks, although his voice is so cocky that you’re almost entirely sure he knows the answer. “Fucking love it,” You pant out, orgasm so close you can taste. “Love you, ohmygod.” The end of your sentence cuts off with a whine as you come so hard you nearly black out, holding onto him so tightly you’re sure you would’ve broken at least one of his bones if this were real.

If this were real, if he were real. If this wasn’t a dream with a ghost. The realization washes over you like cold water and the dream disappears before you in a flash, leaving you trembling and empty in more ways than one. Your hand is tingling and when you look at it, you realize that Jungwoo didn’t let go the entire time.

You’re not in your bed when you wake up. It takes you a moment to realize it, the weight of your dream still heavy on your mind, but then you open your eyes and process your surroundings and realize that even though you’re awake, you’re back in your nightmares.

A scream leaves you and you jolt out of the chair, falling flat on your ass. You scramble backwards a good few feet before relaxing, realizing that your mind was just playing tricks on you. This is no nightmare place, it’s just your basement. Except…

That chair is definitely the chair from your nightmares- or well, Jungwoo’s murder. You’ve never seen it down here before, but then again, you never go into the basement. It’s been years since you’ve been down here, the room always giving you the creeps. And you’ve never sleepwalked- you can’t fathom why you’d be down here.

“Jungwoo?” You whisper, not even flinching at the gust of cold air as he materializes next to you. “Why am I down here?” “This is where I was murdered.” Jungwoo murmurs, his gaze distant, cloudy. You furrow your eyebrows.

“Here? Are you sure?” He nods strongly, not an ounce of hesitation on his face. You get to your feet and watch him pace around, tentatively poking at objects. A violent shudder runs through him when he touches the chair. “Jungwoo, this is my house.” He freezes. “This is your house? Then you must know who murdered me.”

There’s a long second where you just stare at him, not knowing what to say. Thoughts abandon you and your mind goes blank, leaving you to shake your head and stutter out objections. “W- No, Jungwoo, I can’t-” A deep breath, a heavy exhale. “No one ever comes down here, and I can’t remember the last time I even had people here.”

“Well someone had to come down here!” Jungwoo presses, motioning at himself. “Y/n, I’m dead. You could help me find who killed me.”

You spend hours thinking through every person you know, mulling over all of your friends and anyone else who has ever been to your house. Parents are ruled out immediately- they live across the country, first off, and your mom nearly cries whenever she so much as swats a fly. Jungwoo tries to help, but he doesn’t know anyone the way that you do, and he’s a tad bit negative.

“Okay, but how do you know they’re not killers.” He asks, tone flat. “I mean, do you have hard evidence? Because somehow none of them are killers, and yet…” He smiles humorlessly and holds his arms out, doing a twirl for you. “I’m dead.” “I’m trying.” You say tiredly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s just hard. Literally no one ever comes over, and I can’t picture my friends as killers. Plus, no one has access to my house except for me.” You purse your lips, staring at your sad little notepaper list with dozens of names scratched out. “Is it possible this happened before I lived here?” Jungwoo shrugs. “Yeah, I guess.” He doesn’t look convinced.

You purse your lips, groaning in defeat when your mind stays blank. “I’m sorry, Woo. We’ll figure it out eventually, I promise. I just can’t think right now.” “Hey, it’s okay. Thank you for helping and not like, I don’t know, calling an exorcist.” Jungwoo presses himself to your side, poking your cheek when you laugh, and his presence is so comforting that it’s easy to forget that he’s not really there. You swat at him good naturedly, your laugh cutting off early when you realize that he’s disappeared. You call for him a few times, panic racing through your mind, until he manifests again a few feet away from you.

“Ohmygod, I’m so sorry! Did that hurt you? I didn’t know that would happen!” You jump to your feet, reaching out to him on impulse before thinking better of it.

Jungwoo laughs softly, but his form flickers. “It’s okay. I guess you can only touch me in dreams.” He smiles, but it’s with his mouth closed tight. The chair becomes visible through his form as he flickers again.

The mention of touch jolts your memories and you scratch the back of your neck nervously. “Wait, Woo, I meant to ask.” He looks at you expectantly, humming for you to go on. “Last night, in the dream. Was that like, was that really you?” “Hm? Are you asking if it was real or not?” Jungwoo asks. You nod, unable to look away from his gaze. “It was me, y/n. I’m real.”

You nod, lips pursed as you think it over. Jungwoo smiles though it’s hollow, hard to see the usual light in him when he’s nearly translucent again. “I’ll see you tonight?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer before vanishing, leaving you alone in the cold basement.

“Yeah.” You whisper softly, a dark cloud hanging over your head.

“What’s in the bag?” Johnny asks you, nodding towards your bookbag. It’s normally empty, save for a notebook or wallet, but today it’s stuffed full of newspaper clippings and binders.

“Nothing.” You shrug. “Just some old articles.”

Johnny thumbs through a stack of the papers before looking up at you, his forehead creased. “On murders?”

“Yeah. They’re interesting. Figured I should know the history of the town I live in, right?” You take a sip of your coffee, hoping you don’t look as insane as you feel. It’d taken you hours of searching to find those articles, digging through the library archives and reading murder after murder to find ones that seemed similar to Jungwoo’s case. They were unsettling, to say the least, and the fact that someone had taken a life under your own roof left you jittery. “I mean, I guess?” Johnny shakes his head and thumbs through a few more, hesitating at one of the clippings before shoving them back in your bag. “Kind of an appetite killer.” He says, pausing after a second and laughing. “Hah, get it? Killer…” The cold stare you give him has him sobering up quickly. He clears his throat. “Anyways. What else have you been up to? You’ve been kinda distant lately.” Have you been? Probably. “Sorry.” You shrug. “Caught up in my work, you know how it is.” Johnny wiggles his eyebrows. “Seeing a new man?” You shoot him a withering look. He throws his hands up innocently. “Woman? Person?”

The word ‘ghost’ is on the tip of your tongue, but that sounds insane even to you. You can’t be seeing someone whose body fades out of existence when you so much as blow air on him too strongly. “No, Johnny. I’d tell you if I was dating someone.” “Promise?” He asks. You hold your pinky out to him, interlocking the digits and offering him a smile. He grins back. “Good. You wanna come over tonight? Play some video games, order some pizza?”

It sounds good, and you really don’t want to be alone at your house after discovering it was the site of a murder, but you don’t want to leave Jungwoo. He’s kind of counting on you for something big, plus you have all those articles to show him…

At your hesitation, Johnny pouts. “Come on, I feel like I’ve barely seen you for like, a month. Please? It’ll be just like old times.” The promise of old times has your resolve fading, and you give into his whining. He cheers and knocks your coffees together, dramatically complaining when the liquid splashes onto his sleeve.

Taking a nap had seemed like a great idea when you had gotten home from lunch, but it’s the first time you’ve dreamt without Jungwoo in your dreams, and all of the nightmares were so genuinely disturbing that you wake up sobbing. Every room seems so foreboding that you can’t bring yourself to sit in the house any longer and you run out the door without any further thought. The rain soaks through your thin sleep clothes and you find that you have three missed calls from Johnny, but you don’t bother to call him back. You’ll be at his place soon enough, and the rain is starting to blue the screen too much for you to see. Or maybe it’s your tears, you can’t be sure, and you really don’t care.

You knock on Johnny’s door, stepping back and impatiently shifting from foot to foot before stepping forward and knocking again. Exhaling harshly, you raise your fist to knock again. The door opens.

A very disgruntled Johnny stands before you, one hand wiping at his face. His hair is disheveled and you have the conscious thought that he must have just woken up, but your brain is flying a million miles a second and you don’t have time to spend worrying about if you’ve interrupted his beauty sleep. “Y/n?” Johnny yawns out, opening the door wider. “You were supposed to come over like 3 hours ago.” His sentence goes unfinished as you push past him, grabbing his wrist and dragging him to the living room. With your hands on his shoulders, you push him down to sit on the couch. He looks less tired and more confused now, which makes sense considering he’s never seen you act like this- you’re not even sure that you’ve ever acted like this- but he keeps silent, trusting you enough to tell him what the fuck is going on. He patiently puts his hands on his knees, watching you pace around the area.

It takes you a while to formulate exactly what to say to him. How exactly do you tell your best friend that you’ve been helping a ghost solve his own murder without him attempting to send you to a psych ward? After a few moments of pacing, in which you accidentally leave a trail of muddy footprints on Johnny’s carpet, you pause.

“This is going to sound insane.” You start, facing Johnny. He nods encouragingly, motioning for you to go on. “I need you to believe me. Promise me that you’ll hear me out until the very end.” Johnny nods. “No, I need you to promise me.” Maybe it’s how frantic your voice sounds, or the fact that you’re soaking wet and still breathing heavily from your run, but Johnny promises without hesitation. His voice is soft and his eyes are wide and you thank God for giving you such a good best friend. You search his eyes with your own, and finding nothing but encouragement and trust, you begin.

“Okay, so. You know those nightmares I’ve been having?” A nod. “Okay, so apparently there’s a ghost living in my house that’s been like, projecting their memories onto me.” Johnny blinks, not even trying to hide the skeptical look on his face. “Before you say anything, I know it sounds crazy. But ghosts are real. Jungwoo- Jungwoo’s real.” Johnny inhales sharply. “His name is Jungwoo?”

“Yeah. He was murdered 4 years ago in my basement. My basement, Johnny.” You take a deep breath, shuddering. “Whoever did it is still out there, and Jungwoo thinks that his brother might be in danger.” You shift anxiously from foot to foot, hands wringing together in front of you until Johnny takes them into his own, thumbs rubbing over the backs of your hands to calm you. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but can you help me find him? I just need to make sure that he’s okay, and I know it’s silly that I promised a ghost but-” “I’ll help.” There’s a reassuring smile on Johnny’s face when he interrupts you, and you breath out in relief. “It’s okay, y/n. I believe you.”

You launch yourself forward into his arms, hugging him tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I don’t deserve you.” Johnny laughs. “Yeah, you don’t.” He pulls back from the hug long enough to look you in the eyes. “For right now, let's go to bed, yeah? You really look like you need some rest.”

“Okay, so here’s his address. I mean, I think it’s his address.” Johnny looks over your shoulder at the satellite image of Mark’s house, nodding. “We can get there in about two hours.” Johnny hums, stepping away from the computer. “I can get us there faster than that, don’t worry. C’mon, let’s have some coffee and then we can go.” He makes sure you eat something that actually has nutritional value before you go, even going as far as to pack a bag before you hit the road. Johnny does his best to reassure you throughout the drive, but you’re a nervous mess. You compulsively take sips from the water bottle Johnny had forced you to take with and it’s empty in no time, leaving you to drum your fingers along your thighs and squirm with a full bladder.

The house looks so much bigger, so much more foreboding in person. Johnny gives you a reassuring look and after a deep breath, you knock on the door. It takes a few seconds before it creaks open to reveal a man around your age peering at you through black-rimmed glasses that sit crookedly on his face. “Hello?” “Hi, Mark?” he nods, looking you up and down. “Do you have a moment to talk? I just have a few questions, it w-” He’s already moving to close the door before the sentence is even out of your mouth. “Wait, Mark!” You manage to wedge your foot in the door before it closes and he groans, rolling his eyes.

“Look, I’m really not in the mood to buy anything, so if you could just please-” He tries again. “It’s about your brother!” You exclaim, finally succeeding in getting Mark to listen. He freezes and stares down at you dumbly. His eyes stay on you for a little too long before lifting to look behind you.

“Johnny?” Mark asks, eyes widening. “Is that you?” You look over to find Johnny standing behind you, a soft smile on his face. “Yeah, it’s me. How you doin, kid?”

Mark lets you into the house after tackling Johnny into a hug, offering you tea and a seat on the couch. “I didn’t know you knew Jungwoo,” You whisper to Johnny, watching Mark grab cups from the kitchen.

Johnny shrugs. “Never had a reason to bring him up.” He definitely could’ve brought him up earlier, like when you mentioned you were seeing his ghost, but you brush it off as nothing. Maybe he didn’t want to upset you.

Mark returns, offering you each a cup of tea before taking a seat on the couch opposite you. “Wow, it’s been so long.” Mark laughs, clutching his tea for dear life. “It’s so good to see friends of Jungwoo’s again. It’s like, it’s not the same as seeing him but. It’s nice.”

“Good to see you too, Mark.” Johnny smiles. “I looked all over for you after Jungwoo’s death, but I couldn’t find you. When did you move?” Mark sniffs. “Um, I think like a month after it happened. They arrested the guy that killed him and I dipped. It was too painful to see all those little reminders of him everywhere.” Mark sniffs again, and wipes harshly at his eye. It makes you tear up a little too, thinking about how fondly Jungwoo talked about his brother, how unfair it is that they got ripped apart so soon. One phrase sticks out to you and you manage to reel yourself back in before you start crying too hard.

“Wait, they caught the guy? Do you know who killed him?” You side eye Johnny because he must have known that the killer was caught already, and it doesn’t make sense that he didn’t tell you considering that was the sole reason for this trip.

“Um, well. Jungwoo uh, he had a sort of accident.” His hands are shaking, you notice. Some tea spills onto his leg. “He used to go out to all these parties and he swore he’d be safe but I guess he slipped up this one time.” Mark takes a deep breath and his voice cracks. “He was driving home from a party and he probably thought he was fine but he was way too drunk and he hit a pedestrian. He drove away but her boyfriend saw the whole thing and followed him.” Mark drops his head down and sobs a little.

Johnny moves to comfort him and Mark calms down after a few moments, skillfully changing the topic away from his dead brother. All the water that you drank in the car finally catches up to you and you excuse yourself for a second. Mark’s laughter rings clearly from the living room and you can’t help but to laugh too, smiling at Johnny’s ability to make everyone happy. You fix your hair in the mirror, a little spring in your step at the thought of being able to fulfill your promise to Jungwoo.

You wish he was with you right now as you walk down the hallway back to the living room. There are so many pictures on the walls, Mark’s accomplishments framed proudly. It sends an ache through your heart that you’re here to see all of this by yourself. It’s only then, when you’re picturing Jungwoo exploring the house with you, that you realize how quiet it’s gotten.

Frowning, you call out Johnny’s name. You get no response and call out again, finally catching movement out of the corner of your eye. “Johnny, why’d you sneak up on me?” A laugh leaves you when you turn to fully face him, cutting off only at the flash of color that slowly fades to black.

Your head is throbbing when you come to, vision taking a few seconds to clear up. A groan leaves you and you shake your head softly, coming face to face with Mark. A Mark whose mouth is covered with duct tape. You freeze, eyes widening, then look down to find that the rest of him is bound, too. “What-”

Panic surges through you when you realize that your hands and ankles are bound too, and you jerk your head to the side, frantically searching to make sure that Johnny’s okay. You don’t find him. It’s only you and Mark in the room. “Johnny? Hey, whoever the fuck has us down here better leave Johnny the fuck alone!” You might currently be tied up, but the fact that your best friend is missing and potentially hurt overtakes any concern you may have for yourself. Mark’s eyes widen and he shakes his head frantically. You furrow your eyebrows and go to ask what he means, but you don’t get the chance.

“Oh, don’t worry. Johnny’s just fine.” The sentence comes from the man himself, standing right in front of the door. Relief fills you, turning to dread the second he closes the door and flips the lock. “You however…” “Johnny? What are you doing?” You ask, watching as he rolls his sleeves up to the elbow.

He tips his head to the side, looking at you with confusion. “Isn’t it obvious?” The glint in his eyes matches the knife he picks up, the dim light catching on the shine of the blade. “For someone who apparently experienced Jungwoo’s death dozens of times, you should be able to figure it out.”

You blink once, twice, and then your eyes bug so far out of your head you worry they might fall out. A soft wheeze leaves you as your chest constricts, panic blooming in your gut. Johnny wheezes too, but his is a wheeze of laughter. He’s amused.

His eyes slide down to Mark, whose eyes are glimmering with fresh tears. “Did you know it was me Mark? Did you know it was me who killed your brother?” The boy shakes his head frantically, tears free-falling down his cheeks now. There’s some muffled cries that you think sound like no, but the tape traps them and makes him incomprehensible. “Really?” Johnny asks, stepping forward until he reaches Mark and then squatting down in front of him.

“Liar.” Johnny whispers, dragging the syllables out. The point of the knife presses into the boys throat, and while the noise Mark makes is barely audible, you can feel his suffering. There’s a tense moment as Johnny increases the pressure, Mark leaning backwards as far as he can to get away, before Johnny pulls it away. Mark exhales strongly, relaxing a little bit. He’s still crying. “It doesn’t matter, though.”

Tears would probably be rolling down your cheeks if you could process what was happening. But shock has taken ahold of you, and you can only watch helplessly as Johnny turns to glance back at you. “Thanks to y/n, now you’ll never get the chance to tell anyone.”

Johnny whips back around in record speed and slices the knife right through Mark’s throat.

A scream leaves you and you fall forward, unable to do anything but watch in horror as the line in Mark’s neck wells with blood, the poor boy convulsing in horror. A wretched gurgling noise leaves him as he chokes and frantically gasps for air, made even worse by the duct tape over his mouth. Johnny sets the knife down delicately and uses that hand to pinch his fingers over Mark’s nose, effectively shutting off his air-flow. The fight drains out of Mark’s body along with his life, and it’s just a few more seconds before he stills completely.

You can’t think of anything to say, can just gape at Mark’s body as Johnny lets go of him and the boy hits the floor. Johnny turns to you next, picking the knife back up.

“It’s a shame you’re always so curious, y/n.” Johnny sighs, shaking his head. “You’re my best friend, I’m going to miss you.”

There’s the faintest breeze against your cheek bone, your hair blowing to tickle the back of your neck. You try your best not to shiver when it starts blowing against your wrists. It takes you a moment to realize that it’s not a draft from an open window, but it’s Jungwoo. He’s not visible, probably because he’s focusing his energy on freeing you. If Johnny notices anything wrong, he doesn’t say anything. Your wrists aren’t free yet, but you can feel the rope loosening. If you can buy yourself some more time…

“Why are you doing this? Why did you kill Jungwoo in the first place?” Your question obviously catches Johnny off guard and he stops walking, glancing off to the side and sighing softly. He seems to have an internal debate but then he shrugs, settling down on the floor across from you. It calms you a little to have him seated instead of looming over you, and you try your best to stay absolutely still.

When Johnny speaks, there’s a hint of regret in his voice. It’s hard to tell if it’s manufactured or not. “Jungwoo and I were best friends. We always had each others backs, always told each other everything. Ride or dies.” His eyes lower to his knife and he smears the blood around the blade with his thumb. “I was the one who hit the girl. I was drunk and it was stupid, but when I called Jungwoo to help me get rid of the body, he refused. He wanted to call the police, y/n. The police.” His eyes are brimming with tears now, and he looks up at you with an urgency that tells you to believe him. You don’t of course, and you can’t tell if he’s trying to convince you of his innocence, or himself. “My own best friend wanted to turn me in, y/n. I couldn’t let him do it.”

“How did you even get into my basement?”

“You were at a training retreat in the mountains for that job you ended up hating that weekend. I knew that your house was empty and where the spare key was, plus I knew that no one ever went into your basement.” Johnny shrugs. “His body’s in the backyard, in case you were wondering. Buried him under the dahlias.” The red dahlias, your mothers favorite plant. How many times had she gone out to water and tend to the flowers, unknowing of the poor boy who lay beneath? Your breath catches in your throat and you finally can feel tears pricking the back of your eyelids.

“You’re sick.” The sentence is barely above a whisper, but it carries enough weight with it. Johnny’s entire demeanor changes, his face twisting into an ugly scowl.

“I’m sick? I’m not the one that was going to betray my best friend by letting him rot in jail! How fucking dare you.” The ropes fall off of your wrists and you grab onto them to prevent them from hitting the ground and alerting Johnny. All that’s left is the rope on your ankle, and then you can make your move. “Yeah? Aren’t you betraying your best friend right now? Just like you did last time?” “I should’ve used the duct tape on you.” He murmurs, tightening his hold on the knife.

There’s enough give in the ropes that you can wiggle your ankles. You just need a few more seconds. “Why didn’t you?” “Ran out.” Johnny breathes, lunging at you. You squeak and roll to the side, groaning when your legs refuse to function. Sitting on them for so long made them feel like jelly and they tingle as the blood rushes back to your limbs. “What the- you little bitch.”

Johnny attacks again and you dodge yet again, doing nothing but rolling around and avoiding him. You definitely can’t beat him in a physical fight, but you can probably beat him in other ways.

Johnny’s breath catches in his throat. “J-Jungwoo?” He stops moving, obviously trying to process how someone who is clearly dead can stand in front of him. Unfortunately, his body doesn’t quite get the memo, and he trips over Mark’s form. A sickly thud resonates through the room as he falls, followed by a deafening silence.

When Johnny doesn’t move for a few seconds, you step closer to examine him. The first thing you notice is that there’s a little stain under his chest that’s steadily getting bigger, contrasting starkly against the wooden floor. The second thing you notice is the acrid stench of blood, too strong for the small room you’re in. Third is the tip of the blade sticking out of his back. After checking his pulse and finding nothing, you roll him over. You find the hilt of his knife sticking out of his chest and your breath catches in your throat. He must’ve landed on it when he tripped. You slump against the wall and try to catch your breath, staring at Johnny’s limp body and waiting for him to lunge at you.

He never does. You look up to say thank you to Jungwoo, but you don’t get a chance. He looks right at his brother’s limp body and disappears, leaving you alone in the room.

You sleep as much as you can, hoping that Jungwoo will pop up in your dreams again. You cry when you sleep and you cry when you wake, until you get to the point where your eyes burn and your face swells and you can’t physically cry anymore. You cry until you’re exhausted and yet you can’t sleep, can only frustratingly toss and turn and scream silently through your raw throat, praying to a god that you don’t believe in to let you see Jungwoo, just one more time. That’s all you need. Just one more time to say goodbye.

Promises are mumbled into your pillow and chanted in your mind but there’s only so much you can do to keep them. You swear to never forget Jungwoo but the words are meaningless and do nothing to stop his face from fading. Slowly, his features become less clear in your mind, his laugh blending with countless others until you can’t differentiate them. You get him a proper grave in a cemetery, and you go from visiting his grave every day to going every few days, until weeks pass before you remember you wanted to leave flowers for him. The flowers last even less than your promises, wilting and rotting on the stone, becoming a sadly unrecognizable mess. You do your best to clean it, and you cry so hard the first time you see the mess that you almost black out, but it’s now a sight that doesn’t even phase you.

Time doesn’t stop to wait for you. It’s not long before you finish grad school and get a job offer in a city 1500 miles away, much different from this one. Your sister drives down to help you pack, easily helping you throw things that you need into a suitcase and counteracting your hoarding tendencies. Something catches your eye just as you’re leaving and you pick it up, frowning at the little resin flower.

“What’s that?” your sister asks, leaning in over your shoulder. “Is that a dahlia?”

“I don’t know.” you furrow your eyebrows, trying to place why it seems so familiar, before shrugging. It makes a hollow sound when you toss it into the trash that seems to echo much too loud for such a tiny object.

She heaves your suitcase into your arms. “Ready?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

You don’t look back.

#jungwoo fic #nct fic #jungwoo smut #nct smut #nct angst #kim jungwoo angst #nct 127 angst #nct 127 smut #jungwoo angst #nct 127 fic #kpop smut #kpop fic #kpop angst #nct: almost

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aggressivelyclueless · 3 years ago

Text

blessing

in which valerie does not go to the dance with danny

contains: soft rejection

Valerie thought Danny was a blessing.

Sometimes, the thought of him didn't linger too long in her mind, but it was on frigid and stiff Friday nights like these that it floated in, and it seemed to make itself a little more permanent each time. Maybe the two of them would be snorting with laughter at terrible old movies or splitting a bite at the mall or even just sitting in the grass at the park and watching clouds go by; every time, she felt a little more at home with him, even if home was miles away.

On this particular Friday night, home was with him. The sun was trying, but the onslaught of night was relentless and dusk saw the two of them on the streets. They were halfway back to Danny's place when the jacket in the storefront window caught her eye, and she nudged him gently to get his attention. "What about that one? For Christmas, maybe. I could see you in it."

Danny paused a half-step ahead of her on the sidewalk, considering it. "The blue one?"

"It'd go with your eyes," said Valerie, as if that was justification enough. She slid her hand into his, dismissing the number of paychecks she'd need to save up for a thing like that. Seeing him turn one shade pink, and feeling the little squeeze he gave her hand, and the hopeless grin playing at the corners of his mouth - that made it all worth it. She could feel her own grin coming on too, and she didn't fight it. "Come on. We were still going to catch that werewolf movie, right?"

"Yeah. Dad picked up that kettlecorn you like, and I swear Jazz won't interrupt this time." He swung his hand a little, feeling the weight of hers follow along. Hers was warm; he supposed his must have felt like ice.

Valerie kept close to him for the last four blocks until they reached FentonWorks. The spiderweb in the front window was plugged in, blinking on-and-off in a hokey orange, and places had already been marked on the step for the jack-o-lanterns to come.

On the step, she paused. Danny opened the door for her but she hesitated, keeping hold of his hand and prompting him to turn back to her.

"Val?"

"Can I ask you something?" said Valerie, trying to figure out why the butterflies in her stomach had taken flight all of a sudden. She couldn't be nervous - that was stupid. For all the time that she'd spent with him, and as comfortable as he felt, she shouldn't have been so hesitant. And yet, she doubted herself before she opened up her mouth again. Would this make it official? Is that why you're nervous now? "It's just that I was thinking - well, you know the Halloween dance at school's coming up, and I guess I was hoping we'd go together. I could get us tickets." She wanted to feel better then, wanted to see him smile and say of course, sounds fun.

But he didn't. He stood motionless in the doorway, his face suddenly unreadable, and the butterflies turned to a hard knot in her gut.

"I can't," he said finally, "I'd love to, trust me, I really would. But I can't."

She was suddenly acutely aware of how cold his hand felt in hers. He was usually cold but she could have sworn he'd turned to ice just then. "Why not?"

Danny's shoulders slumped. "There's some stuff I have to do. I promise it's not your fault, it's just - well. Ghost stuff. You know how Mom and Dad get, and they think every house in town is going to be haunted that night, and they think I'm supposed to be helping them this year. Stupid Fenton stuff."

Valerie almost believed him. She wanted to; she'd met Mister and Missus Fenton enough times to know the seriousness with which they took their work, and she could wholeheartedly believe that Danny didn't want a part in it.

But something was off, maybe the way he froze up, if only for a moment, or maybe the way he spoke, almost as if he was voicing an excuse as it was coming to him. If he didn't want to go out with her, surely he could just say so?

What wasn't he telling her? Did he even trust her after all?

But the, just like that, he'd softened up again. He was looking down at her and now he was smiling, and the stiffness in his fingers was gone. "Hey, maybe we can do something fun the night after. I heard there's a new bowling alley open by the park. We could go and check it out, if you wanted."

"Sure," said Valerie, and she smiled back. Maybe she was overthinking it. Maybe, but when it came down to it she trusted her gut more than she trusted Danny, and her gut was telling her not to let on. She'd bring it up if she got the feeling again, she decided. She wanted to think she wouldn't. She wanted to think that Danny was a blessing.

And, for the most part, he was.

#Ectober Month 2021 #Ectoberhaunt 2021 #Ectoberhaunt Treat #danny phantom #fanfiction #ectober

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your-turn-to-role · 4 years ago

Note

Don't know if this has been said before, but what if Molly's soul is still hidden away in the body, although still around about the level when he died, so it's when Lucien gets taken to 0 hit points or something he's weak enough for Molly to finish him off from the inside

(I don't say it as a "this is what I think's going to happen" sort of thing, it'd just be cool & I'm thinking out loud)

so, i’m gonna ramble a lot about this before i get to your question, because this actually gives me a really good opportunity to talk about something i’ve been wanting to for a while and haven’t made the post yet

i’ve, honestly been really confused by everyone going “oh what if molly’s soul is still in there”, as if molly and lucien are two separate souls fighting over a body, and one’s possessed the other or whatever (especially when beacon theories get involved)

but like... that’s not what happened. to explain, lucien was the original soul. weird cult shit aside, he was an otherwise normal tiefling from shadycreek, who hired vess derogna to help him cast some kind of ritual involving that book

she went along with it, but didn’t actually want lucien’s plans to succeed. she’d read the book extensively herself, she also had nine eyes across her body, but she wanted no part of whatever the somnovem is doing. so when she cast the ritual on lucien, she modified it, and instead of its intended purpose, it shattered lucien’s soul into pieces, intending to make it impossible for him to be resurrected. the tombtakers found his body, seemingly dead, buried him in the woods outside their hideout, and scattered across the continent per lucien’s emergency instructions, plan lost

until the one piece of his soul left in his body slowly managed to wake up. a full soul isn’t actually required to keep a body alive, especially if there’s other weird magic involved, and this piece is very determined. it’s missing the rest of itself, and trying to come to terms with that - doesn’t remember anything, takes months to be able to speak, other than one word, haunted by the emptiness it’s now feeling, and the only other vague memory in their head is of the dark dark magic that brought them here. eventually, like any living creature, they grow, and develop, and move on from that. they were given a new start, a new name, and a family that loved them. molly learned how to be a person, not knowing anything different, and gave himself a whole new identity, had friends, had family, that lucien didn’t. but nothing new was added to the mix other than the love he got from the circus, everything else he built himself

(i’ve had a couple people say to me “well lucien isn’t a reliable source, he could be lying or mistaken about what happened”, and just from my personal insight, i don’t think he’s lying, but even if he was wrong about molly being a piece of his soul and not a whole new soul entirely - molly doesn’t match the symptoms of being a soul given to a new body. but you know what he does match near perfectly? egtw’s description of a hollow one, a being resurrected without a soul)

(he had at least part of one, we know that, we can see it, in lucien, they’re too similar, and molly doesn’t register as undead like hollow ones do. but i’m guessing if a fractured piece of a soul found itself back in its body without the rest of it? it would sound something like this)

“Yet some beings find that, days after they died, they awaken, clutching to life, with only a terrible emptiness inside to remind them of their death.”

“The transition from life to becoming a Hollow One affects different people to different degrees. Some let their anger and regret consume them. Others use their second chance to become a brighter force in the world. However, all Hollow Ones are marked by their new existence: feelings of unease, dread or sadness cling to them like tattered rags of their past life.”

so then he dies. and the mighty nein tell cree. and she spends months looking for a way to bring lucien back. i don’t know exactly how she does it, but she does, collects all (or at least more of, he may be missing some things still) those fragments of his very shattered soul and puts them back together. lucien doesn’t remember everything that molly did, the person he grew to be, and who’s to say really which part of a soul is responsible for memories? if you were to shatter his soul again in the same way, would the part that was molly remember, or would it have to go through the same thing all over again?

but it also leads us to an interesting question of, how does a soul get made. a baby still waiting to be born doesn’t have a soul yet, we know that because of how the beacon works

is each new child not connected to the luxon given a soul by the gods? or do they grow their own, as they learn to be their own person

did molly essentially turn a soul fragment into a whole soul, just by living? and if he did... what part is in lucien now

i’m honestly inclined to believe that lucien’s soul is back together, including the molly part, because of all the ways they’re similar, i think those all came from that fragment. but there’s three options here, 1) the soul fragment that was molly is back as just another puzzle piece, he’s essentially dead, and the purpose of his story is that you don’t have to keep living to keep having an impact on the world, molly has changed things permanently despite how short he lived 2) he did grow a second soul, and that fragment they share is shared, back in lucien’s body, but either molly in the afterlife is missing a piece, or there’s more than 100% of a soul in that body, weirdly stuck together and probably not that noticeable as wrong because there’s already a thousand other voices in there 3) he did grow a second soul, and it’s gone. he left for the afterlife and that piece was unrecoverable, and now lucien’s walking around with 80% of a soul

the first is my belief, honestly, and the only way to get molly back is to shatter lucien in the same way, and hope he still has those repressed memories. the third is what would make molly resurrectable, if you were to kill lucien.

the second, however, is the only thing that really makes sense with molly being “still in there”, and if that 80% of a new soul can manage to wake up from whatever’s going on in lucien’s head, it’s possible!

it would also be pretty symbolically cool bc, while matt changed the blood hunter class a lot recently so it’s no longer a feature (give me back the cool ghostslayer, pls), back when molly was alive, the subtype he was? at high levels he’d get the ability to keep fighting in ghost form after his body fell unconscious, as long as he didn’t die. and i mean fuck if that’s not exactly what he’d be doing here

#cr2 #cr thoughts #lucien #mollymauk tealeaf #ask #text #meta #Anonymous

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abarbaricyalp · 3 years ago

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@sambuckylibrary

SamBucky Halloween Prompt 1: Urban Legends

High School AU, spooky ghost stories and dead girl’s revenge

Rated G: mild cursing (AO3 link in the notes)

Haunt me, baby, one more time

“Legend says that every 17 years, the body of Lyla Ray comes back from the dead, looking for her next victim,” Sam whispered severely. Bucky’s attention was rapt on him, unblinking and fully engaged. “She preys on beautiful young men, the kind that killed her all those years ago. And she cuts their hearts out to eat it.”

“That’s a little on the nose,” Bucky breathed back, but his gaze didn’t waver. The bottom of Sam’s truck bed was starting to get uncomfortable, even with all the blankets he and Bucky had piled into it and Louisiana was hot on October 28th, so the blanket thrown over their heads--turning them into one lopsided ghost to anyone who happened to drive by and look--was getting unbearable.

“Do you want to go see where her body is?” Sam asked.

“I thought you couldn't bury people so close to the coast.”

“She’s buried,” Sam assured. “So far down underground so that maybe she won’t dig her way out.”

Bucky shivered involuntarily and Sam grinned. “How long ago was her last supposed appearance?” he asked.

“A year after we were born.”

Bucky let out a breath of realization. “I see. So she’s supposed to come back tonight,” he said.

“Exactly. If we hurry, we can see her come up.”

“Why would you want to?”

“Didn’t you say you wanted the full Louisiana experience while you were stuck down here?”

“Did I say stuck?” Bucky asked, reaching over to cup Sam’s cheek before pulling him into a slow kiss. “I’m sure I didn’t mean stuck.”

Sam grinned against his mouth, a little thankful for the blanket over them since they were parked just off the road. Then again, Halloween always made him feel invincible, so he probably would’ve let Bucky kiss him with or without the blanket.

He let Bucky distract him up until Bucky tried to lay him out over the blankets--later, definitely later--at which point he pushed him back. “Come on, you have to come with me,” he said, pulling on Bucky’s hands.

Bucky sighed like it was the last thing he wanted to do. Maybe it was. Bucky was the biggest skeptic Sam had ever met. Most kids new to the state were wide eyed and excited about the hundred billion ghost stories that permeated every street and building. Not Bucky Barnes though. He couldn’t be tasked to believe in any story about any monster or ghost or legend. Nothing phased him. Not any of the ghost tours Sam had dragged him to, not the haunted houses that had crept up in the weeks leading to Halloween, not the voodoo or tarot shops that always sent a thrill of excitement down Sam’s spine. Bucky just didn’t buy any of it, which made him even more enchanting to Sam’s stupid heart. Opposites attract and all that.

Bucky stood up, knocking the blanket away, and hauled Sam with him before climbing over the edge of the truck and waiting for Sam to do the same. By design, they were already pretty near the cemetery and it was getting dark, so Sam let his fingers graze over the back of Bucky’s hand until Bucky tangled them together.

“Y’know,” Sam said after a few steps, “you’re just like a Layla Ray victim.”

“Am I?” Bucky amused. “How do you reckon?”

“Oh come on. You’re a total pretty boy. Total heartbreaker.”

“Samuel Thomas, have I broken your heart?” Bucky asked in mock affront.

The thought of this thing between them maybe not being permanent broke Sam’s heart every damn day, actually. And Bucky being adamant about going back to New York for college was devastating too. “Not me. But I know you got a string behind you.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and knocked their hands against Sam’s thigh softly. “You’re terrible to me. You’re like her victims. You’re breakin’ my heart right now as we speak. And with eyes like that? A mouth like that? Total pretty boy too.”

Sam laughed and leaned into Bucky’s side. “Now you’re just flattering.”

“Nah, it’s true. I’ve heard the girls at school talk about you. All of Sarah’s friends are obsessed with you. Becca thinks you’re the cutest.”

“They’re freshmen. They hardly have taste yet. Sarah’s friends are just happy I pay attention to them in the hallways.”

“Well, Sarah’s friends like you a lot more than Becca’s friends have ever liked me,” Bucky said. “Which has to count for something.”

“Nah, ‘cause you’re an asshole. I totally get where those girls are coming from.”

Bucky glanced down the street before hauling Sam into a kiss that sent Sam’s head spinning through the dark night. “You think assholes can kiss like that, Wilson?”

Sam still couldn’t think but he nodded anyway because being contrary to Bucky was second nature.

Bucky snorted and let go of Sam’s waist. “Then I’m an asshole who likes you a whole lot. Even if you’re, like, super mean to me all the time.”

“You like it,” Sam said and hurried to catch back up to Bucky. “Here, it’s just up ahead.”

“Yeah, I might’ve missed the gate,” Bucky agreed sarcastically.

“We can be a little extravagant,” Sam said, looking up at the metal monstrosity, a remnant of the past, holding all the secrets of the past too. “Gotta keep the ghosts inside, y’know.”

“From what I hear, you’re not very good at that part.”

Maybe not. “Layla Ray isn’t a ghost, she’s a Revenant.”

“She’s a bear?” Bucky asked, just to be obtuse.

“You’re such an asshole,” Sam repeated and pulled him into the cemetery. “She’s buried towards the back, ‘cause she’s so old, y’know. And so that maybe she’ll be confused while she’s trying to get out.”

“Wait a second, this girl has been eating hearts for centuries now and she’s been buried underground for most of the time this cemetery’s been around to keep her buried, but actually it’s not working since she’s been wandering around?”

“That’s not the point,” Sam said, waving his hand in the air. “The point is the story.”

“I get the story. I’m just saying, stick to a reason why she’s buried instead of cremated or something.”

“She’s buried because that’s how the story works.”

“You know, she ought to come after you, usin’ her name and tragic end to scare new kids at your school.”

“We used to come out here all the time when we were kids,” Sam said. “The worst trouble I ever got in was when I brought Sarah with me once and dragged a stick down her arm while she was looking at the gravestone.”

Bucky snorted. “And I’m the asshole.”

“I’ve been waiting for seventeen years for this. Just let me have this one night.”

“If this is a once in seventeen years event, why ain’t no one else out here?” Bucky asked.

“I dunno, guess you grow out of it,” Sam said with a shrug. “Or maybe no one wants to risk being the guy who gets his heart eaten.”

“Right. Or you just made this up to get me out here all alone. Maybe you’re actually the ghost.”

“Am I that unbelievable?” Sam teased. He leaned up and stole another kiss before weaving Bucky to the back of the cemetery. He made sure to avoid walking over any plots that happened to be in the ground, though there weren’t many. Finally, nearer to the back fence, they came to a stop in front of a gravestone that read Layla George Ray 1796-1813 Beloved Daughter.

“I hate looking at tombstones for people our age,” Bucky said, reaching out to run his fingers over the lettering of Layla’s name.

“That’s almost touching, Barnes,” Sam said.

Bucky crouched down to run his hand over the even, cut grass that adorned the top of the grave. “No fresh dirt. Guess your revenant isn’t so hungry tonight,” he said, tossing a grin over his shoulder. “Even with two eligible guys standing around.”

Suddenly a woman’s scream pierced through the night and Bucky sprawled back on his ass, scrambling away without ever being able to get his feet under him.

Sam wrapped an arm around his shoulders when they finally collided and then sank down himself, cackling so hard he could barely breathe.

“Oh my God, Barnes,” he gasped. “Your face!”

“Sam!” Bucky cried. “Didn’t you fucking hear that? What was that?”

Sam fell onto his back, clutching at his ribs, knees bent up to his chest. It didn’t help retain any air, but it happened anyway. “Jesus, look at you,” he wheezed and buried his face in his own arm. “You really thought--” He wheezed some more and real tears slipped out from his eyes.

“What?” Bucky asked, still panting, still ready to bolt, but now more confused than terrified. “What are you talking about?”

Sam uncurled himself and held out his phone. The scream pierced through the air again and cut off abruptly when Sam silenced it. “You thought-- You really thought a dead girl was coming out of her grave to eat your heart.”

“You’re a fucking bastard,” Bucky snapped, finally catching up to what Sam had done. He sat back heavily on the ground and Sam broke out in new laughter.

“Your face, Barnes! You were so fucking scared.”

“I thought someone was dying, Wilson.”

“You thought someone was coming back from the dead,” Sam corrected.

“I hate you. I hope you do get haunted.”

“You can’t hope for what you don’t believe in,” Sam pointed out.

“I can hope for what you believe in. And I hope all sorts of creepy shit haunts your ass for years. I hope you don’t sleep for ages.”

“Oh come on,” Sam said with a smug smirk. “You don’t mean that. You love cuddling with me when you think I’m asleep.”

Bucky glared balefully at him. “Cuddling with you when you’re awake is just as fine by me.”

“Besides, if I get haunted, that ghostie’s gonna be all up in your business too,” he pointed out. Finally, he pushed himself to his feet and offered his hand down to Bucky. “Come on, baby. I’ll make it up to you.”

Bucky followed the long line of his arm up to Sam’s face before reaching for his hand and standing as well. “That a promise, Wilson?”

“Well, those blankets weren’t just for story time, y’know.”

“I like the sound of that. Keep on talking.” Bucky closed his fingers around Sam’s and Sam took it as the reconciliation it was. Together, they started for the front gate again.

Behind them, others talked too.

#sambuckyhalloween2021 #sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky fanfic #sambucky fanfiction #captain america #winter soldier #the falcon #the falcon and the winter soldier #writing #bingo

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