#LOVE WAS NEVER REAL. IT LAID DEAD AND FESTERING
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KUNIKIDAZAI NATION WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU GUYS I CANT TAKE THIS ANYMORE WHERES ALL THE ANGSTY HCS AND ONE SHOTS AND THEORIES AND ANALYSIS WHERE IS MY FUCKING CONTENT
#AUUUUUUGHHHHHHHH IM THIS (THIS) CLOSE TO JUST GOING TO TWT JUST TO SEE IF THEYRE TALKING ABT THIS#CMON GUYS STEP UP UR GAME 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#ITS AN OASIS HERE ON TUMBLR................#IF NOBODY DOES IT THEN ILL DO IT MYSELF.......IG#THANKS FOR NOTHING#LOVE WAS NEVER REAL. IT LAID DEAD AND FESTERING#bsd#knkdz
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Spooktober Day 13 - “That costume really is convincing.”
It was just supposed to be a night of handing out candy to trick-or-treaters.
It was a chilly Halloween. A slasher film played on Stan’s television as you laid in his arms. Despite the occasional knocks from trick-or-treaters interrupting your movie, the night was peaceful. This child's laughter, however, was contagious. It was echoing outside as parents escorted their children from house to house. You loved to guess what each kid was dressed as. Stan was unimpressed or, at least, that’s what he wanted everyone to think. However, as you two stood side by side on the front steps of the Mystery Shack, you could see the little smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
You set down the candy bowl by the door on your last turn. You gave Stan a smile and a sigh as you curled back into his arms. Immediately, you jumped when the girl on the screen was brutally murdered in her shower. Yeah, you wouldn’t be showering alone tonight. Stan would be grateful.
Stan pulled you close as your heart raced. “I can’t even tell what half of those kids’ costumes are. Can you?”
“Says the guy who wore a suit made of fake dollar bills last year,” you snorted as you tucked your head beneath his chin. Another gruesome murder played out on the screen.
Stan chuckled. “Hey, it was a statement.” His large hand rested on the back of your head as you hid your face in his chest to avoid witnessing blood spatter the scene playing in front of you.
Once another knock came, you reached for the remote in Stan’s loose grip to pause the TV. You stood from his comfortable and safe embrace to hand him the candy bowl. “Your turn, hot shot.”
Stan gave you a groan, full of fake annoyance, only to kiss you on the forehead before heading to the door. When he flung the door open, a figure stood on the stoop. It stood perfectly still. Stan was amused by the kid in front of him. The kid’s clothes hung loosely from its frame and patches of what appeared to be dead skin sloughed from the kid’s face.
“Hey, [Y/N],” Stan called from the door, “come check this kid out!”
You stood from the nest you had created when Stan went to answer the door. Standing next to him, you threw an arm around his shoulder. A loud laugh escaped you as you stared at the kid. It didn’t hold a bucket or pillow case to collect candy, but the costume was impeccable. The kid’s eyes were sunken in, lips cracked and twisted in a pained grimace. The kid played the part of a zombie very well, standing perfectly still.
“Wow,” you stared, mouth agape in wonder, “that costume really is convincing! I think yours is the best one we’ve seen all night.”
A stench hit you suddenly, making your face contort. You’d never smelt a corpse, but, damn, this kid went all out. They reeked of rotting meat and damp earth. Even the strange fluids covering their body smelled putrid. You had to give the kid credit, maybe an extra candy bar just to get them off your porch faster. The smell was making you nauseous.
Stan looked the most impressed you had seen all night.”Great costume, kid! You got old steaks under your clothes or somethin’?” He gave a hardy laugh as you moved closer to him. Something wasn’t right, but only you seemed to notice. “Ya know, for a second, I though-”
The figure let out a low, guttural moan and Stan’s laugh died in his throat. The moan wasn’t playful, a kid just trying to get more candy by being spooky. It wasn’t a joke. It was too real. You felt it deep in your bones as a coldness that clawed its way up your spine. Your hand froze in midair, candy slipping from your fingers as you locked eyes with the thing on your doorstep.
The kid, zombie, stepped forward wih one foot dragging behind it. That smell, god that smell, became suffocating. The flesh hanging off its arm wasn’t the painted latex you had thought it was. The decomposition fluids weren't painted on. It was real. A zombie. Torn and festering flesh clinging shouldn’t to bone that shouldn’t be moving.
“Stan,” you whispered as you clung to him a bit tighter. Your voice was barely audible. “That’s not a costume.”
Stan gave a laugh as he looked down at you. You’d tried to scare him like this before, but you were a terrible liar. Then, he saw the look on your face. You couldn’t fake anything, especially not fear, and his face drained of all color. He dropped the candy bowl, its contents spilling on the stoop. His hand moved to slam the door, but the figure let out another loud groan, louder as it lounged forward with its arms outstretched toward you.
You stumbled back as Stan pushed you behind him as he slammed the door just in time. However, that did not deter the corpse clawing and crashing against the door. The whole Shack shook as the crashing, scratching, and clawing continued. Its hands slapped against the glass, leaving dark, wet trails across the panes.
Stan turned to you, his breathing shallow, but he tried to keep his voice steady. “We need to barricade this. Now!”
You nodded, your legs shaking as you raced to grab everything you could. Chairs, boxes, anything you could pick up. Outside, however, the scratching continued, growing louder and louder. In a moment of curiosity, you peaked out the window. There was no longer just one. The entire Shack was surrounded.
Stan was sweating, piling the furniture you had stacked up in a more secure fashion. As the horde grew closer, Stan pushed you behind him. He grabbed the baseball bat he kept by the door, pulling brass knuckles out from a drawer nearby.
“Listen to me, baby,” Stan said. His eyes were wide as he took your face in his hands. He kissed you hard. “Go upstairs. Hide. Barricade yourself in some room. Hell, find a hidden one if you can.”
You shook your head. You weren’t going to let him do this alone, “Stan, I will not-”
“Go!” He shouted as the windows broke.
#gravity falls#gravity falls x reader#stanley pines#stanley pines x reader#stan pines x reader#stan pines#spooktober
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Hi, Im the anon who requested "Can't afford losing you" and I wanted to request a small follow up story if that's okay?
The plot is just that Ghost comforts reader after a nightmare, where he was back at the abandoned warehouse and in his dream Ghost never came looking for him.
Simon woke up hearing reader cry next to him in his sleep, he woke him up, helped him calm down and told him that he's safe (at first reader thought Ghost was one of the people who hurt him and freaked out) and then just cuddled with him, saying that he loves him and that no one would lay a finger on him again.
As you can see, I like angst.
And I like your stories, so I guess you're stuck with me lmao.
Loved this sm ty for requesting
Seeking Home in You
Follow up story for Can’t Afford Losing You
Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Male Reader
Summary: Ghost helps you through one of those nightmares in the blanket of night.
Warnings: Mentions of torture, nightmares, hurt comfort otherwise.
Word count: 686
Soft rustling of the bed and light calm breathes came from your lover in front of you. Simon slept soundly as you were wrapped up in his strong arms, holding you close to his chest. Every second that passed, you grew more tired. A soft smile on your lips as you rested your head against his chest. This was Simon, not the Ghost everyone seemed to fear deep down. You knew that whatever might happen, you’re safe in his arms, no matter what. With a deep sigh, you found yourself falling asleep next to Simon, your exhaustion getting the best of you.
The darkness that consumed your vision quickly festered into something you’d never thought you’d see again.
You were in the same blood stained room, the room where you were almost tortured to death. “No, no, no- This isn’t real- this-” You panicked, only moving to realize your wrists were bound just like they had been before.
“Ah.. but it is.” The voice left you shocked, you were sure he was dead, he had to be! You turned to meet the face of your enemy, “Your friends are here..” He smirked, tying a rope around your mouth to suppress your screams, you kicked at him the best you could, tearing up at the familiar pain but with an additional suffocation.
Next thing you knew, you watched your captor barricade the doorway, leaving gaps to let you watch. You were stuck, unable to move or yell for help. You watched as your team passed by your room as you squirmed in your restraints to get their attention, but all efforts were ignored.
You watched Ghost pass slowly by, not even bothering to look at you, which made your heart throb as you tried to call out for them, tears leaving your eyes. You didn’t wanna die here, you didn’t wanna die alone, they were so close.
—---
Ghost peeled open his eyes, waking to the sudden shaking and dampness of his shirt. “Love..?” He whispered softly, looking down at you with soft and worried eyes. You whimpered as you held onto him tightly, tears escaping your eyes while you began to hyperventilate. “Hey hey love.” Ghost sat up, pulling you into his arms as he shook you awake. He knew a nightmare damn well when he saw one, in this case, it must’ve been a pretty rough one.
You gasped awake, your body jolting at the feeling of another one’s hands on you. “Stop touching me please! Get away!” You shouted, you hadn’t even realized you woke up with your eyes squeezed so tightly. You went to shove the man in front of you until you were stopped by a strong voice. You opened your teary and frightened eyes to meet Ghost’s worried ones.
You shook, crying into him as you pulled him into a tight hug, pain shooting through you since you were still healing from the event. “It was a nightmare love.. I’m here..” Ghost murmured softly as he ran his hand through your hair and his other up and down your back soothingly.
“You wanna tell me about it..?” Ghost asked softly as your tears came to a stop. You just laid against him, seeking the comfort you dreadfully needed. You sat there in silence, sighing softly as you pulled him into a comforting kiss. Ghost listened carefully when you explained your nightmare to him, his eyes softening as he held your hand in his to ground you and be your support.
“I’d never leave you, you’re my priority, even if it means leaving the team to be there with you and for you, so be it.” Ghost spoke softly, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand. You smiled, pressing a kiss to his head before the both of you laid back down.
“Sleep well love.. I’m right here.. Ain’t gonna leave you for the world.” Ghost smiled, letting you get comfortable before he wrapped your arms around you again. “G’night..” You murmured, shutting your eyes. “Good night darling.. Sleep well..”
“No bastard will ever lay a finger on you again..”
#fanfic#fanfiction#male reader#modern warefare 2#ghost x male reader#simon ghost riley x male reader#ghost x reader#hurt/comfort
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I Will Carry You
One shot! Ray Levine from Stay Close x Reader
You are Ray’s best friend and have been in love with him for years. When Cassie comes back into his life you realize you can’t watch him destroy himself any longer.
I may have gotten a tad carried away.
*NSFW
Fic Masterlist
I Will Carry You by Ruelle
“So anyway, this arsehole had the gall to expect me to pay for his meal because I wasn't ‘what was advertised,’ you grumbled, taking a swig of your beer. What the fuck does that even mean?”
There was no reply from either of the men at the bar. Both Ray and Fester were completely in a world of their own, even though it was Ray who had suggested you go for a drink after your disastrous date.
"And then I thought that later, I might take off all my clothes and walk down to the boardwalk to go skinny-dipping.”
A chuckle from Fester, but nothing from Ray.
"What's wrong with him?' you whispered.
“Cassie's back.”
You felt a cold chill run down your spine, and your chest tightened like a vice. That was the absolute last thing you had been expecting. Just a few weeks ago Fester had told Ray that Cassie was dead, which ended with you half carrying Ray home, drunk as a skunk and sobbing into the cushions of his couch. The absolute devastation in his voice as he had called out her name had broken your heart. Thankfully he had passed out quickly and as you had laid a blanket over him and left his flat, you cursed the Bitch.
“The fuck do you mean, Cassie's back? I thought she was dead, you told us she was dead.” you hissed, looking over to Ray who was still off in his own little world.
You watched as he swallowed down a whole bottle, swaying on the barstool, barely keeping himself upright. He looked completely defeated, what little wind he’d had in his sails had left him and only a shell of a man was left. He signaled for another drink, the only clue that he still resided in the real world.
“Nah mate, you’re done.”
Ray narrowed his eyes at his friend, trying to intimidate him into giving in. You were honestly surprised he could even see straight, the state he was in.
“Fine then,” he growled. “I’m going home, at least I can get a fucking drink there.”
“You do you mate, I’ll call you an Uber.”
“Whatever.” Ray didn’t even bother to pay before he stumbled out the door.
“Do you think he’ll be alright?” you asked, wondering if you should make sure he got home ok.
“Tonight? Yup, I called the ride thirty minutes ago, it's already waiting out there. Other than that I don’t know, I mean he hasn't been ok for a really long time.”
“And now she’s back to fuck him over some more?”
“She wants nothing to do with him, actually. She’s only come to light now because of Green and those other guys that went missing from Vipers.”
“Isn’t that where she used to dance?” you couldn’t disguise your derision at the mere mention of her.
“Yup, and apparently she’s some kind of soccer mum now, kids, house in the suburbs, fiance and all. Turns out she was only living two towns away all these years. She’s somehow involved with the disappearance of this Stewart fellow from way back, mainly because she was involved with the man.”
“At the same time she was involved with Ray?” you felt sick when Fester nodded.
“Why did you tell him she was dead?”
“Because I wanted him to move the fuck on, I mean look at him. He’s a fucking mess because of what that bitch did to him and he just can’t get past it.”
You couldn’t disagree with his logic, you had seen the mess that was Ray Levine many, many times for yourself.
“Listen love, I’m going to offer you some advice.”
You glared at Fester, knowing what was coming next. You had heard it all before, and you wouldn’t admit to it even now. Denial had been key for the past decade.
“He’s likely never going to see past Cassie, darlin. I know you’re just ‘friends’.” The air quotes pissed you off. “You deserve better than dating assholes while you wait for Ray to get a clue.”
For the first time you really couldn’t fault Fester’s words. While it was 100% true that you and Ray had never been more than friends, it wasn’t for a lack of hoping on your part. Fester had always known, but he was nice enough to never call you out on it, at least until now. Ray, of course, was completely oblivious. With a sigh you paid your tab and Ray’s and turned to leave.
“I’ll give it some serious thought.” you nodded and walked out into the night.
It was the first time you had admitted, in a way, that Fester’s suspicion might be true. You had gotten so good at hiding it that you were certain he had forgotten, but Fester noticed and remembered everything, he would have been brilliant working for MI5, if he wasn’t a self-admitted sloth. But what he really was, to you, was a good man and a true friend.
Deep down you also knew he was right. Ray was never going to move past Cassie, she was an obsession now. You wished she really had died, at least then he might be forced to at least accept that she was never coming back to him. In that situation, at least, you knew that you didn’t have to be the same. You could have a life where you didn’t have the weight of him on your shoulders. It wasn’t as though he would notice either way, you thought bitterly.
Opening the door to your flat you threw your keys on to the kitchen table and flopped down on your couch, screaming into the pillow in frustration. You were smarter than this, always swearing you would never be one of those women you lost themselves over an inaccessible man. It was pathetic, and yet here you were, all your good intentions flying out the window the day you met Ray Levine. Bastard. Even if it wasn’t his fault, you were still angry at him. Sipping on a coffee you thought back to that day when this whole shitshow had started for you.
It had been ten years ago and you had arranged a lesson for a couple of your art students who had expressed an interest in photography. You were familiar with his work then, even having his book on your coffee table, which you flipped through often. His work had been atmospheric and evocative. He was a brilliant photojournalist and when you had found out he was local and taught classes, you had jumped on it. You found him to be an engaging and hands on teacher, responding eagerly to your students and they to him. The shaggy hair, beanie and tattoos you had not been expecting, and they clashed with the images you had seen of him in Iraq. But by the end of the first class the whole grunge rock thing he had going on was growing on you. When he had taken your hand to shake, a tingle had run down your spine and when he flashed that smile you were a goner.
You should have walked away right then. Instead, you booked more classes and once a week you allowed yourself the luxury of watching him at work. He towered over all the students, his presence easily filling the entire space, but he was never really aware. The kids were his only focus during those times, and they ate him up. For your part, you just tried not to react every time he accidentally brushed past you. In those early days you had only seen him in the context of lessons, still seeing only the Pulitzer winning photographer. Glimpses of the man he used to be. You were starry-eyed, giddy as a teenager and half in love with just the idea of him within weeks. So, when you started to talk outside the lessons, it seemed like such a natural progression of things. If you only talked about you, you didn't really notice, at least not for a while. When school was out you simply sat on the boardwalk feeding the gulls and discussing shit like politics and global warming.
Your first glimpse of the real Ray Levine came after a few months of you waiting for him to make a move. Sitting at Festers bar, you and Ray were having a great time and you thought for sure it would be then. He'd had his hand on your knee half the night and kept leaning in to whisper nonsense in your ear. Then in a heartbeat it had all changed. Someone in the bar had called the name 'Cassie' to greet a friend and you had never seen Ray whip around that fast. The brief look of hope in his eyes had baffled you and when he turned back to the bar the Ray you thought you knew was gone. The apologetic look Fester had shot you had said it all.
That night was the first time you had taken drunk Ray home to his couch. When he grabbed your wrist and pulled you to sit beside him a tiny spark of hope had ignited. That spark died as it all spilled out of him, Cassie, Vipers, the missing man. How he had proposed and she had walked away without a word. It was as he put his head on your lap and wept that you realized it was too late. You were already in love with him.
As dawn broke through your kitchen window you decided Fester was right. This had to stop.
For a month you made sure to see Ray only during the weekly lessons. He was distracted and disheveled, barely even noticing you were there. Fester kept you appraised, he'd seen Cassie again, she still had the plastic ring, she had kissed him. You felt sick. Then he was questioned, a suspect. Arrested for murder. He only wanted to see Cassie, it was as if you had never existed. After that, it was easy to make your decision. You applied for a teaching job in Edinburgh, receiving a positive reply within a week.
Ray was innocent of murder, you'd never doubted that for a second, but what he had admitted to had shaken you to the core. The Ray you now knew was a drunk, yes, but he was also the most gentle person you had ever known. The kids over the years had never heard a negative word or a raised voice from him. He had been there with a shoulder to cry on after every bad date, when your sister had died. You called him your gentle giant and he laughed every time. Not one time had he ever put his hands on you in anger, even when you were drunk and unreasonable. Not even when you slugged him after a particularly dickish dig at your lack of a love life.
You decided to go and see him, to tell him yourself that you were leaving. No way you would walk out on him the way Cassie had, that would be the cruelest thing you could ever do. Just as you wouldn't disappear from his life, you would stay in touch, you just needed space and time to get over him.
The moment he opened the door to his flat and looked at you with so much relief in his eyes, you knew this was going to be harder than you had hoped. He looked like shit, his hair unwashed and straggly, eyes red and swollen, face drawn and pale, it was as though he had aged ten years since you last saw him. Glancing down at the coffee table, you saw the empty vodka bottle sitting among half empty take-out containers, beer bottles and dirty clothing.
"Are you drunk Ray?"
"Not as drunk as you think." He smiled that lopsided smile you loved so much and put his arms around you for a hug.
For just a moment you let yourself sink into him, taking a deep breath and...
“Christ Ray! You smell like a brewery. you pushed him away, moving to stand in front of the window.
“I'm sorry." he mumbled, looking at you like a puppy you'd just kicked. I'll go get cleaned up, don't go away.”
“I'm not going anywhere, we need to talk.”
You didn't acknowledge the way his shoulders slumped when you spoke, you had to be strong enough to get through this without feeling guilt. It wasn't his fault you felt the way you did, he had never encouraged you after that night. It was all on you and even though you knew you had to do this, you still felt like shit for leaving him. He was a broken man and you would be willing to spend the rest of your life fixing all those broken pieces. That was why you had to go.
Ray came back into the room, freshly showered by the looks of things, looking a little more human than he had. He still took your breath away when you looked at him, even after every way he'd hurt you. Taking a deep breath, you locked the part of you that wanted to stay and fixed him with a stern look.
“How much have you had to drink today?"
"Probably too much." he shrugged.
You stomped into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee, not willing to have a proper conversation until he was at least a little sober.
"Are you afraid of me now?? he asked softly, flopping onto the couch, watching you over the rim of his mug.
“Of course not.” You sighed, sitting down beside him.
He looked truly worried.
“Ray. Look me in the eyes.” You waited until he looked up, his blue eyes red, watery and full of uncertainty. “There is no scenario on this planet that could ever make me afraid of you. Understand?”
You cupped his cheeks in your hands, forcing him to look at you when he tried to look away.
“Understand?”
“Yeah.” He whispered.
His skin was rough under your hands, he desperately needed to shave, but then you had always liked him with the scruff. Mainly because you had never seen him any other way. He was still looking at you, almost strangely, his eyes flaring and he made no effort to pull away. In response you gazed at him, subconsciously committing every part of face to memory. You were going to miss him.
He moved before you even had a chance to react, his mouth pressing against yours firmly, hands coming up to tangle in your hair. Before you could tell yourself that this was a very bad idea you leaned in, opening for him with a sigh. Ray was ferocious in his response, hauling you over to straddle his lap, his lips bruising yours, tongue sliding over your teeth.
Electricity coursed through your body, and you ground against him as years of longing came down to this moment. You couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t get close enough to him. You wanted every part of him, ached for his hands on your skin, for your hands on his. He obliged, his arm wrapping around your back so he could flip you beneath him on the couch. Alarm bells started ringing in your ears, but you ignored them, tugging his shirt out of his jeans and sliding your fingers beneath to touch the warm skin of his back.
Ray’s fingers were under your sweater, leaving you shivering as he traced patterns over your skin, wedging his hips between your thighs. Moaning into each other’s mouths you moved together. He was rock hard and you arched up to meet him for every grind of his hips, a low growl escaping his lips.
“Cassie.”
You went still for a moment, not believing what you had just heard. Then it hit you like a bucket of icy water and you shoved him off you with all the force you could muster, leaping from the couch.
“I don’t fucking believe this.” you muttered to yourself, pacing the room.
“What’s happening?” Ray honestly looked confused. “I thought we were having a…thing?”
He gulped as your eyes flashed with anger. You hoped that he couldn’t see past that to the hurt that was cutting you deeply.
“God, you really have no idea, do you?” Tears stung your eyes.
“I don’t, please tell me what’s wrong.”
He looked lost and for a split second you just wanted to hug him. Until his whisper replayed in your head.
“You said her name!” You couldn’t stop the tears now. “Her name, Ray, you were thinking of her when you were with me. I’m some fucking consolation prize that you can pretend is someone else.”
Understanding dawned and he looked horrified.
“It was just a reflex, with everything that’s happened recently, it just popped out. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it.”
“That’s horse shit Ray and you know it. You never stop thinking about her, that’s the problem.”
“I don’t! I swear I don’t.” He reached out to you.
“Don’t touch me Ray.” his hands drew back as if you had slapped them. It's bad enough you did it, don’t make it worse by denying it.
He put his hands in his lap, looking contrite.
“How could I have been so stupid?” You wiped at your eyes furiously. “I actually thought…”
Taking a long deep breath you forced yourself to calm down so you could say what you came here to say.
“For ten years Ray, I’ve watched you destroy yourself over that woman and for what? She left you, let you wonder for 17 years! And she didn’t spare you another thought, did she? She just fucked off and got herself a whole new life. You disposed of a human being for that bitch! Then she’s back, and you’re dancing like a puppet again, just the way she wants you to.”
Ray started to protest, but you shut him down with a look.
“You’re doing it now! You can’t see past your own misery to see how she’s manipulated you. She didn’t care about you enough to even check to make sure you were ok, did she? Who was it who dragged your drunk ass home? Night after night, who cleaned you up when you threw up on yourself, helped you to bed? I stayed every time you begged me to, listened while you sobbed for hours about how much you loved her, missed her. She was never here, Ray, never. She never cared. I did! You couldn't see past her, you never saw anyone but her. The woman destroyed your life and you just let her.”
You sucked in a breath, needing to get to the point. He was at least looking at you while you talked.
"Do you even know how I feel about you? Not even an inkling? I love you!
That made him pay attention.
“I never expected you to love me back, never asked anything of you. I realized, when she reappeared, that I would never compete. So I made a decision to leave."
“Wait, what? “
“I'm moving away, Ray. I took a job in Edinburgh, I leave tonight”
'You can't!"
"Yes I can Ray, and I will. I came over today to say goodbye, and so you knew I would never just up and leave you the way she did. Then, for a moment I thought that... But you said her name not mine, and that's broken my heart. So I won't change my mind.”
Taking a step toward him you leaned down, brushing his lips gently.
"I really hope you can let yourself be happy one day, Ray.” You whispered.
Without giving him a chance to respond you turned away and walked out the door.
Later that night and completely sober, Ray sat at the bar and told Fester everything that had happened. If he was expecting a sympathetic ear, he was sorely mistaken.
“I've known for weeks that she was leaving, Ray. You didn't even notice that she hasn't been around?"
"I was a little busy.' Ray muttered.
"Yeah, that's the problem mate. You were always a little busy.”
Ray didn't like the way he was feeling, after so many years of abject misery, guilt was an unwelcome new companion. He knew he'd fucked up, he never should have kissed you in the first place, but he wasn't in his right state of mind. The whole thing with Cassie finally unraveling, the whole fucked up mess had left him feeling vulnerable and more lost than ever. Now he had hurt his friend, and royally screwed up the only good thing he had in his life.
Rubbing his face with his hand, he tried to make sense of it all. He was so tired, fed up and ashamed. “ I honestly had no idea mate.' he sighed. "She never said anything."
“Why would she? You always made it perfectly clear that you only cared about Cassie, it's not like you returned the sentiment. Right?”
That was it there. He didn't know. Admittedly he liked having you around, you were always so comforting. But did he feel anything else? Was he even capable of it? Fuck, he was so confused. He did know that the moment you told him you were leaving, a cold stab of fear had run through his body. The one thing he hadn't thought of at that moment was Cassie. Why he had said her name when he was kissing you, he honestly didn't know.
“What the fuck is wrong with me?"
“That's a conversation that would take all night. But, in a nutshell, you're a self-loathing, obsessive drunk who didn't see what was good for him, even when it was right in front of him.”
"Tell me how you really feel, why don't you?”
"How about this, then? Tell me the first thing that comes to mind, yeah?”
Fester sounded suspiciously like a therapist, but the smile on his face showed just how much he was enjoying Ray's misery.
“What were you thinking when you kissed her?"
"Relief, I guess. I wasn't really thinking.”
“So your immediate subconscious reaction to her telling you she wasn't afraid of you, was to kiss her?"
“Ray shrugged.
“Ok then, your immediate gut reaction when she told you she was leaving? Go!”
Fear, betrayal, loss, agony. His chest had tightened, he'd felt like he couldn't breathe.
"And what about when she said she loved you."
Hope.
“I've really screwed things up, haven't I?” Ray's head was in his hands.
"You called the woman who loves you, by another woman's name while you were making out with her. A woman who, I might add, abandoned you, used you, tried to sell you out for murder, manipulated you and didn't think about you for 17 years.”
“Yeah.”
'Why?”
“I don't know, I feel sick about it.”
"You don't even love Cassie, you know.” Ray's head snapped up. "Think about it, you loved her back then, but for years it hasn't been that at all. You just couldn't separate what you'd had from what you did. Think about it Ray, you destroyed yourself for and because of this woman. Then you go and do this. You need help, mate, professional help.”
Ray wanted to be angry, wanted to defend his love for Cassie, but he couldn't. Deep down he knew Fester was right. It had stopped being love the moment he threw the body in the river. He equated his feelings for Cassie with betrayal, fear, self-loathing and obsession. They had overwhelmed him, especially when he dreamed. He had started drinking so he could sleep without dreaming and from there he had spiraled out of control. He couldn't believe he had missed his own true feelings. Now sober and coming to terms with all that had happened, things were a lot clearer. His feelings for you were so different than he had realized, affection, security, tenderness, warmth. With you there were moments that had been close to happiness. There was heat too, if that morning was anything to go by. He had been completely blind.
"How the hell am I going to fix this?” he sighed.
"Get yourself clean for starters and get some fucking therapy. And only when you are 100% sure that Cassie is cut out of your life forever do you go anywhere near that girl. If you can't do that, then leave her alone and let her get over you.”
Ray had a lot of soul-searching to do.
Six months later.
You unlocked the front door to your flat and managed to get in just before the sky opened up. With the rain came the damp cold and you shivered as you walked through to your bedroom to change. Edinburgh was a beautiful city, but it really did rain a lot. Still, the job made it worthwhile and you really did love it here. Checking your email, you saw a message from Fester and smiled. You made sure you kept him appraised of how you were doing, and he had agreed to never talk about Ray.
The process of getting over him had been a lot harder than you had anticipated. You thought about him every day and your heart didn't ache any less for it. Fester would have told you if there had been any trouble so you knew he was ok. But you missed him, so much it still hurt. You even missed the nights where you dragged him home. It had only mattered to you that you were with him. You guessed that made you pretty pathetic in the eyes of others.
It didn't matter anymore, anyway, you had to move on or you would end up just like Ray.
It was dark early, thunder booming as the rain poured and you started a fire in the fireplace, choosing not to turn on the main lights. Some nights you just needed to brood a bit and try to convince yourself that you would eventually get over Ray Levine.
A knock at the door startled you from your thoughts. Who on earth would be here at this time of the night? Shuffling to the door, you made sure the chain was on before opening the door a crack.
"What the hell?”
Ray stood there, looking nervous, his small umbrella barely keeping him dry.
Stunned at the sight of him you could only stand and gape for a few moments.
“Umm, would it be ok if I came in for a moment?”
His voice startled you back into reality.
“Oh my God! I'm sorry, Ray. Of course you can come in.” Stepping aside, you took off the chain, took his umbrella and closed the front door behind him.
He took off his shoes and coat and stood, silently, looking as awkward as you felt. Motioning him into the living room to sit, you stood in front of the fireplace, waiting. Your heart was hammering in your chest, your hands were shaking. Proof positive that after six months, you were not an iota less in love with him. It was taking everything in you not to jump over and wrap your arms around him.
“Why are you here, Ray?” You made your tone as flat as possible, not wanting him to hear the agitation you were feeling.
He swallowed hard and looked at you with eyes clearer than you had ever seen them.
“I wanted to say I'm sorry.”
You didn't say a word, waiting for him to continue.
“I'm sorry that I hurt you. I honestly didn't mean to, and I have no excuse for it.”
"Ok.” You sighed, sitting down on the coffee table to hide the way your knees were trembling. 'Is that all?”
'No.'" he took a deep breath. “I stopped drinking. Actually I stopped that day. Umm.”
You nodded to let him know you knew exactly what day he meant. Keeping your face an expressionless mask you felt your heart swell with pride that he had taken such a huge step.
“I was fucked up, love, I still am if you want the truth of it. Fester says I'm a work in progress.” he smiled wryly. “But, I've been going to therapy and AA meetings, I… It took you walking away to wake me up to the damage that Cassie had done, and the hurt I caused.”
His fingers were fidgeting with a fray in his jeans, you could see he was struggling with what to say next.
"I didn't realize how important you are to me until you left me. I know it's a fucking cliche and I sound just like any other asshole male.”
You smirked. He wasn't wrong.
He leaned forward, reaching for your hand and looking into your eyes intently.
"I was so caught up in myself that I was blind to everything going on around me, especially you. When I said her name, I wasn't thinking about her, for the first time in years I wasn't. It was a reflex and I'm not making excuses, but that's all it was. I was just so happy that you were still my friend despite everything I did. When I was in that room with Cassie, she looked at me as though I was nothing, she believed I had committed murder for her and she still looked at me like that. It was that moment that I started to realize how completely fucked up everything was. It took a pretty intense talking to from Fester to see what was really there in front of me.”
He paused, searching for the words he needed. You could feel your eyes filling and you blinked before he could see you cry.
“Once I removed my ridiculous obsession with Cassie out of the picture everything was so much clearer. I let it go, it was killing me, and then I started to rebuild. And there you were. You were always there and I was too blind to see it."
His thumb grazed over the back of your hand. You forced yourself to stay still and breathe, needing him to say everything, hope taking hold and blooming in your heart.
'I'm not stupid enough to expect you to forgive me after everything I've done. But I needed you to know, I'm clean and sober, in therapy, starting new work, and I love you. I knew it the moment I realized I was more upset about you leaving than I was about anything to do with Cassie. With her it was all about self-pity, I ruined myself over her. But with you, it felt like someone had taken a vice to my heart, I couldn't breathe and instead of wallowing, all I wanted to do was become the man you deserved.”
Tears spilled down your cheeks unchecked, you could see the truth of his words in his blue eyes. A wry, half smile appeared on his face.
´It's my own fault, I know, All of this. Even when I was at my worst, I never wanted to hurt you, and I'm so sorry that I was. I should have known, why else would you have stayed my friend all these years if you didn't love me? I destroyed all that, and I’ll regret that for the rest of my life, but I won't ever go back to the man I was, I promise you that..."
'Ray?' you interrupted him before he could go on.
You had already forgiven him everything a long time ago. The moment he had said he loved you, you knew you weren’t going to let him go.
"Shit, you're crying! Dammit I never wanted to make you cry.” he sounded angry at himself as he instinctively cupped your face, his thumbs wiping the tears away.
“Stop, Ray.” your fingers wrapped around his wrists. “Please, stop talking.”
Oh God his face was that of a rejected puppy. Pain was etched deeply in his features. You couldn't stand it.
"I need you to listen to me for a moment." you said softly.
His pulse sped up under your fingers and you watched him visibly prepare himself for your rejection.
"You did hurt me, Ray. You called me another woman's name while you were on top of me. I was angry, hurt and sad, when I left. I know that you never intentionally hurt me, I do. You need to know that I understood. I just couldn't watch you slowly kill yourself any longer, because I couldn't help you. And honestly Ray, that broke my heart. Nothing you could have would have stopped me from loving you, nothing. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?”
There was a spark of hope in his eyes when he looked at you and you saw the moment when realization dawned and you smiled softly.
"You love me?'
“Yes. Ray. I do love you, I never stopped. I tried, I really did, but I guess you're a little difficult to get over.” you said, reaching out to run your fingers along his jaw. With a sigh, he leaned into your touch, turning his head until he could press his lips against your palm. You shivered slightly, your breathing turning ragged. Time had only made your want of him stronger and more acute. He dropped to his knees in front of you, hands on either side of where you sat. Your breath caught us he leaned forward, eyes open to rest his forehead against yours. He rubbed his nose against yours, nuzzling your face, his mouth a whisper away from yours, his breath warm on your skin.
"Ray." you whispered his name in a quiet breath.
Time slowed down to a crawl and the rest of the world disappeared until there was nothing that existed but your heart pounding in your ears and the feather-light brush of his lips against yours. Your blood sang in your veins as he tilted his head, his mouth covering yours firmly, his large hands cupping your head to hold you against him. He growled deep in his throat, your name the sound that passed his lips. The sound of it sent a shiver from your scalp to your toes and he took advantage of your sigh to slide his tongue past your lips and against your own. Your arms wrapped tightly around his torso, pulling him closer, parting your legs to accommodate him. You didn't care about breathing, you just never wanted him to stop kissing you. He pulled away and you whimpered at the loss of him, sliding as close to his body as was physically possible.
His eyes, dark now with blown out pupils, took you in, from your heaving breaths, hooded, heavy eyes, to your flushed cheeks and swollen lips. Your fingers moved to tangle in his hair, pulling him back to you, his whispered ‘I love you’, washing over you as you both dove in. His teeth worried your bottom lip, his tongue smoothing the sting before filling your mouth. Your legs wrapped around his waist, causing you both to hiss as your core pressed against his hardness.
Without taking his mouth off yours, Ray pulled you up to stand, palms sliding down your back to your rear to hold you against him. He carried you as though you were weightless, grunting as each step he took brushed you against his erection. You managed to pull off your jumper while he carried you, tossing it somewhere in the dark. Passing through your bedroom door you reached out to flip on the light, leaning back against the frame and giving him an eyeful of your breasts, covered in nothing, but thin delicate lace. He twitched against you, groaning as he steadied you against the wall. His eyes were fixed on your chest as his fingers traced the outline of your bra, your eyes watching him lick his lips as he slid the straps off your shoulders. Your hands went to the zipper of his red hoodie, opening it so you could slide it and his flannel shirt off his shoulders. Using his hips he pinned you to the wall, freeing his hands to shrug off his garments, pulling his t-shirt off over his head as well. You barely had a moment to take in the view of his broad, muscular chest before he clutched you against him, plundering your mouth with his tongue, his fingers deftly undoing your bra and sliding it off your body.
Gasping into his mouth as your nipples grazed the hair on his chest, you couldn't think straight. All you wanted now was his mouth and hands on you, his cock buried inside you, everything you had ached for, for ten long years. Desperation was rising in you both, his hips rolling between your thighs, your kisses now messy, rough and demanding, your hands touching every available inch of bare skin on one other that you could reach. Hefting you higher, he latched onto you, sucking your nipple into his mouth, flicking the tip of his tongue over it, smiling around you as you threw back your head, a cry escaping your throat, a hot sting of pleasure shooting from his mouth to between your thighs where it settled in a wet, throbbing ache. You needed him, now.
'Ray.' you were panting his name as he switched from side to side, alternating between licking, sucking and biting, each sending almost overwhelming pleasure coursing through your blood.
He hummed around you, his hands sliding under your upper thighs, fingers meeting in the middle, tracing over your core through your thin pants. Your fingers tugged on his hair, your body shuddering and jerking, your hips rolling against his touch, wanting more.
"Ray, please.” you gasped as his thumb found your clit and began a frustratingly slow rhythm.
He pulled his mouth off you with a pop, hissing as you tugged a little too hard on his hair. Your head fell forward, his face lifting up so he could kiss you again, his fingers still causing havoc between your legs. You unwrapped your legs from around him, forcing him to let you slide down his body to stand. Biting his lip, your hands moved to impatiently work at his belt buckle, slithering it through the loops of his jeans until it fell with a clunk onto the floor. He grinned against your lips as you made short work of his button and zipper, your palms sliding down his hips pushing his jeans down. Ray wiggled his legs and stepped out of them, kicking them to the side. He growled low in his throat as you reached between you to cup his erection through his boxer briefs. It was his turn to shudder as you stroked him through the cotton, dragging your tongue along his in unison. His hands furiously pulled down your pants and underwear to also be kicked aside, as well as his briefs, a pile of discarded clothing forgotten on the floor. Without breaking your kiss he hoisted you up again, pressing you against the wall, his fingers moving immediately to drag through your wet folds.
You whimpered against his tongue, your own fingers tracing featherlight over his balls feeling them twitch and draw up, his body shivering. He actually cried out, shaking when your hand wrapped around him, stroking his length with just enough speed and pressure to drive him mad. Your thumb dragged through the liquid leaking from the tip of him, the way he rocked his hips against you making you very much look forward to repeating your touches with your mouth later on.
Two long fingers sliding into you made you lose your train of thought as a wave of pure lust took you over. He hissed us your hand tightened around his shaft, making you repeat the gesture with each push of his fingers inside you. You were so close, you could feel your body tightening like a bowstring. He pulled his mouth from yours, pulling back to look down with a groan between your bodies. Doing the same you could see his cock sliding through your fingers, his fingers disappearing between your legs, his thumb sinking between your folds, stroking you.
Ray's breath was hot in your ear, his voice low and rough as he spoke.
"Tell me what you want, what you need right now."
“I want you.” you panted, your body trembling.
"You already have me.” he purred, twisting his fingers, stretching you open.
“God dammit Ray you know what I mean.” you moaned loudly, bearing down on his fingers as he found that magical spot inside you.
To think this man had been hiding under all that drunken misery. The thought flew through your mind, leaving you wondering for a brief second how the fuck Cassie could have left this man behind.
You arched your back, letting go of him as you jerked, his hand going still.
"I want to hear it, I need to hear it.” he caught your eyes, and beneath the desire burning there you saw the vulnerable Ray, the one who was afraid that you wouldn't want him, just like Cassie hadn't.
You allowed all the love you had for him to shine in your eyes, looking at him as though you needed to memorize every line, every feature of his face, each more beautiful to you than the last. You had never been good about vocalizing during sex, always feeling ridiculously self conscious. But for Ray, you would push through it, even though your cheeks flamed and you found it hard to meet his eyes. You clasped your hands around the back of his neck, grunting in his ear as your muscles clenched around his fingers, his length twitching against your thigh as you whispered hoarsely.
“I've wanted to feel you inside me for ten years, Ray. Please don't make me wait any longer and just fuck me.”
You couldn't believe the words that had come out of your mouth, not that they weren't true, but they certainly had the desired effect. Ray's teeth were on your neck, his fingers sliding out of you, replaced by the heated, blunt head of his cock, bearing down minutely at your entrance.
“Open your eyes and look at me. Please.” he begged, circling his hips, enhancing the desperation you felt for him to just push into you.
You did as he asked, watched his face as his mouth moved around the shape of your name. A strangled whisper as he surged forward, impaling you on his length, the air pushed out your lungs, as his body pinned you against the wall. He was still for a moment, forehead resting against yours as you panted heavily into one another's mouths. He felt almost impossibly large as you stretched around him, your every nerve ending focused solely between your thighs. Your body trembled as you tentatively squeezed yourself around him, drawing a long moan from his lips. His body shook from the effort of holding himself back, one hand gripping your hip tightly, the other on the wall beside your head.
“Ray.” his name was barely a whisper on your lips, but it was enough. With a low, long growl he pulled back, leaving you aching at the loss of him, then with a grunt he filled you again. He felt incredible as he quickly set a ferocious rhythm, you saw stars every time he pounded into you. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, nails scratching over his back as they grasped for purchase on his sweat- slickened skin. There was only hunger and desperate lust as his body slammed yours against the wall over and over. He grunted with each thrust, rutting like an animal and sending you closer and closer to the edge.
You cried out as he pounded harder, faster, every scrape of his length against your walls sending arrow shots of pleasure from your core, through your body and back again. You could feel your orgasm building, could hear only his grunts and the sound of wet skin slapping as he fucked your harder than anyone ever had before. It was almost too much to handle.
“So close.” you managed, barely able to breathe.
Ray groaned, pulling back far enough to slide his hand between your bodies, the rough pad of his thumb sliding your clit, your body jerking from the added sensation.
“Good girl, let me feel you come around me.”
He growled your name with every thrust of his hips, tilting you slightly so he could sink that little bit deeper inside you. That was all you needed, you felt yourself start to ripple around him as he stilled, your orgasm catching you off guard with its intensity. You felt as though your body had exploded into stardust as burning pleasure radiated through you. The feeling of him steel hard in you, as your muscles clenched, took your breath away. You writhed on him, hips rolling, fucking yourself on him, prolonging your pleasure, his name screamed into the air. There was no chance to come down, his thumb rubbing you kept you flying as he started pounding into you again.
His name was a litany chanted as your head rolled against the wall, pleasure bursting like fireworks in your blood with every thrust.
“God! I'm almost there. You feel you fucking good, so tight.” he grunted and groaned, his movements becoming more erratic the closer he got.
Then with a roar he slammed hard into you, holding you still against him as he twitched and jerked, his whole body shaking as he spilled into you. The knowledge and sensation of him coming inside of you was enough to send you over the edge again, shuddering and gasping as your body clamped around him tightly, causing him to let out a strangled moan as he spurted one last time, your body milking him as you both tried to breathe.
His legs must have given out as you slid down the wall until you were sitting on his thighs, trembling and shaking. Ray's lips moved over your shoulder, gently kissing and nibbling your wet skin. Your arms were wrapped tightly around each other, neither of you wanting to pull away. He whispered endearments as his lips traveled up your neck, telling you he loved you, making sure to speak your name over and over so you knew you were the only one he was thinking of. Then he kissed you with the sweetest kiss you had ever experienced, his tongue barely touching the tip of yours before he pulled it back. Finally, he leaned back enough to look at you, your chest still heaving and red with a flush that traveled all the way to your scalp. He was red from exertion, his eyes full of satisfaction and affection. He looked proud of himself and you figured he had every right to, no man had ever made you come like that. In fact, until this moment and this man, you had been more content with toys than a real man. Ray had just changed all that, you were never going to stop wanting him and your heart soared as your fingers traced the planes of his face and love shone from his eyes.
"I love you, Ray Levine.”
He smiled sweetly, leaning in to kiss you, softly.
You knew you would never leave him again.
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That Bloomin' Curse Ch2 The Curse And An Empty House
(if you don't know who Hazelle is, there is a witch npc in the game that I just repurposed and gave an identity to for the story. Picture of Hazelle above.)
Subcon Forest was not a place for just anyone to enter and exit as they please. There was a reason these woods had such a feared reputation and was rumored to be haunted. Because it was. By the King Snatcher of Subcon(as he liked to refer to himself) and his ghastly assortment of minions and dwellers behind him as his undead army, anyone who went in NEVER came out which added to the entire frightfulness of it all!!...Well no one except three little giggling girls who were currently playing with toys and crayons and a certain red head who was busy tending to her garden somewhere. BUT THEY DIDN'T COUNT!! The dark sky and dead trees twisted with dangerous vines as the sun dared not shine here. If that won't convince you to stay away then maybe the giant chunk of the forest that always so dangerously cold will? Or perhaps the section that's always burning bright with enchanted flames? Or maybe the ghostly king who claimed trespassers' souls as his own or the rumor of a powerful witch? Either way, whatever helps to keep trespassers out he was all for it. But he had no real responsibilities today. The brats could wonder around his woods as long as they didn't go near the frozen half or Vanessa, or they could go exploring on any other part of the planet for all he cared. As long as they were all back home and in bed by six he was fine with it. And Poppy by now knew these woods pretty well so he wasn't so worried about her. Right now he was sitting down enjoying his book of dark tales and legends as he relaxed in his home. The old book in his claws as glowing yellow eyes scanned over the story unfolding from it's yellow pages.
Down in the world unknown there laid a kingdom drab and dark. Where darkness and shadows collided and lived in fear and power. One would be mad to even think about stepping in a place like this. Where the dead are gone but still there, the shadows played and roamed and full of terror. A frightful place brace heros dare not venture unless they wish to meet a tragic fate. Yes. This one place was alone ruled by a power hungry spirit, spited by his love in life and now seeks vengeance on any mortal who dared be foolish enough to be beckoned into his awaiting claws-
"Hello, Snatchy. Still reading those same drab books on cursed kingdoms? It's a bit ironic don't you think?"
Yellow eyes narrowed before the book was lowered and he stared right at copper eyes. "Oh look who it is. It's the annoying witch that bugs me all the time. Don't you have a cauldron to stir?"
Hazelle only chuckled and rose a brow. "Really Snatcher. I thought you'd be more nice to an old friend. How's Poppy doing? It's been awhile since I've seen her."
"Just tell me what you want THIS time. Or are you here just to bother me again."
She tutted. "Now let's not start a fight. There's children just outside of your tree." He frowned harder. "Oh alright if you're going to be a baby about it. I came here to ask you about that mansion you've had in your forest for quite some time." She gestured with an arm.
A brow rose on the ghost. "The mansion?" That was Vanessa's old family home when she wasn't in her castle or at the summer house he usually stayed at when he was alive and visiting her. But now she was forever trapped in her summer house and the mansion being inside his territory was now his. But that begged the question."What the peck could you want to go there for?"
"I want to check out the old place for possible magic remnants. If there's magic festering in there for over a thousand years then imagine what I could do with that."
He...never thought of that but he didn't like anyone else tampering with things that was obviously HIS either even if Hazelle and himself were on good terms. But he also knew Hazelle wouldn't use it against him and just go there anyways if he said no. Plus he didn't know what was in there really. Hadn't been back since he died. But Hazelle would be able to harness anything that might've been there. She could make blue potions that harmed ghosts after all and he definitely found those helpful.
He groaned again. "Fine. But on one condition." He pointed at her with a stern claw. "Whatever magical whatchamacallit stuff you find I GET A CUT IN. It's only natural since I'm generously letting you have something that's rightfully mine."
Hazelle only rolled her eyes. "Deal. But I should let you know that I'm bringing Shifty and Timmy with me. It'd be good for both of them to get out."
He let out a longer groan before holding up the book to his face again. "Fine but that dumb familiar of yours better not try to chase around my minions again!"
"Oh he's just playing." She then turned and began walking her pink and white clothes bodied out of the treehouse.
"I DON'T CARE IF HE'S TRYING TO PUT OUT A FIRE!! THAT OLD SACK OF RAGS CAN STAY AWAY FROM MY MINIONS!!" Hazelle sighed rolling her eyes and shaking her head as Snatcher bellowed out of his tree- "AND I KNOW MOONBOY IS PLAYING AROUND HERE TOO! I CAN FEEL HIM IN MY ECTOPLASM!! TELL HIM TO STAY AWAY FROM POPPY AND GET OUT OF MY FOREST!!"
Hazelle again sighed hopping off the large vine leading out of the treehouse and turned her head towards where she left Timmy. Oh there he was! The brown haired boy was chatting away with his three friends as the three girls happily chatted back with Shapeshifter looming over them curiously. Ah! She also recognized that red headed woman there casually holding a tool box in one hand and turned upon hearing her approaching. Poppy smiled at her.
"Ah! Well if it ain't Hazelle." All the children looked over hearing her talk. "I knew ya couldn't be too far if Timmy was around. Come back for more of them herbs I grow?"
Hazelle shook her head no. "No. We're actually going on a field trip to the old mansion up on the cliff side. I take it you're building something with those tools?"
Poppy nodded. "Yeah! That old house everyone keeps callin' Snatcher's Shack. Ah'm gonna fix it up and move into it. I figured it would be an easier place ta live than the spaceship. At least n's the shack everythin' is my size."
"And we're helping!" Hattie added throwing up her hand much to Bow's agreement but Muriel rolled her eyes.
"Sounds boring if you ask me." The blonde tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder. "Exploring an abandoned manor sounds waaaay cooler than building a house."
"Well if you're good then maybe we can go see some o' the old villager's houses." Poppy then looked around them curiously. "By the way where's that red eyed phantom at? I heard Snatcher's screechin' 'bout Moonjumper."
"Oh he's here. He's just off looking over some of the mushroom patches deeper in the forest. He said something about trying to see if his red threads worked on fungi."
Poppy grimaced at the reminder of those red strings but shrugged it off. "Well...as long as he's not causing trouble or messin' with Snatcher. Ya want some company? We're headin' that way anyways."
Hazelle smiled. "Sure. It'd be nice to have the company."
The small group of two women, four children, and Shapeshifter traveled away from Snatcher's treehouse and down into the forest. It was as peacefully gloomy as always and they were greeted by many subconites and dwellers running around the place. Ducking from spiders and looking over the beautiful vines growing everywhere. Ah. The thorns were growing in beautifully this year. Eventually the group did stop by the old mostly still held together shack. Although the entire front of the house was gone. Yeesh. Poppy sure had her work cut out for her.Ah. And right up on the cliff was the decrepted remains of an old building. A VERY big old building at that. That was definitely Vanessa's old manor and it was sitting there just waiting for them to investigate. Bidding good bye to Poppy and the girls, Hazelle and her two trusty helpers went on their way past the shack and up towards the manor. And by that Hazelle just snapped her fingers casting a teleportation spell to transport the three of them in front of the manor's doors as Timmy shook his head and looked up before letting his eyes go wide.
"Blimey!," she shouted before grabbing his hat with one hand craning his neck up. "This place is huge!"
Hazelle also looked up at what he was looking at and hummed. It certainly was. The outside tall four story building was crawling with vines growing up it's sides and many cracks grew in the stone structure from being abandoned for so long and neglected. Windows were broken, dirtied, or just plain missing altogether. The giant wooden doors barely looked like they were hanging onto the hinges as the thick wood rotted away. Definitely a place that you didn't want to be caught in as it crumbled into nothing but dust. With a hum at the state of the doors, Hazelle started her way through the doors. Her palms pressed against the cold wood before pushing forward and making the large doors open with a loud creaking noise. A rush of cold air washed over the three of them making goosebumps rose on their skin. It was...oddly colder than the outside. The sight that met them was...well what you'd expect for an abandoned haunted mansion. Rotting and old furniture was placed everywhere. A few paintings hung by a thread on the walls and a staircase of stone lead up to the second floor. Cob webs, dust, and the smell of must filled all available space. Her copper eyes glanced wearily at the ceiling where a giant old chandelier teetered dangerously over the massive lobby... She'd definitely be careful regarding that.
"Sooo where are we starting first?," Timmy asked peeking his purple eyes around the place and shuffling closer to her.
"Well I'd like to see the library and see if there's any useful books still in tact." Her head turned to the stone steps. "Moonjumper said that it'd be on the second floor." She had asked Moonjumper for his memory about the layout of the mansion for any useful information and the Spector had recalled that he had seen a library on the second floor from the few times he had been there when alive. "C'mon. But stay close to me. Ok?"
"Um.. Yeah."
Hazelle started off towards the stairs with Timmy glued to her side and Shapeshifter waddling behind them blinking his eyes around the place. Their footsteps echoed with each step and the floors creaked and groaned with each each step. As if the wood and stone would collapse under them at any moment. It didn't and further into the mansion they went. Although...oddly it was getting colder and colder the farther they went. The second floor was in worse shape than the first. The wood flooring was missing a few parts in the floor and the parts of the walls that weren't stone. Clutter strung about the dusty floors and wallpaper hung off in strips. Above them the ceiling that also lead into the third floor was also missing random pieces leaving gaping holes. Alright. Moonjumper said that the Library was on the second floor and behind the third pair of doors to the right and left side of the hallway. Hazelle kept going with the two still by her side. Creaking floorboards continued to sound off as she navigated into the hallway to the right and stopped at the third pair of double doors. This was it. With a push the doors creaked open with a puff of dust. Hazelle coughed taking her pointed witch hat to fan the dust away before blinking at the inside. Inside was the BIGGEST library she's ever seen! A crumbling fireplace stood in the middle surrounded by LARGE shelves of old books of various shapes, colors, and sizes and a few torn and broken armchairs. Along with a large hole in the ceiling.
"I bet Snatcher would love this place." She plopped the hat back on her head before slowly stepping in and looking around. "Maybe I'll just pluck a few anyways just to take back to him and Moonjumper."
"Uh..I think I'll just wait out here. I don't trust that ceiling," Timmy said eyeing the ceiling nervously.
"Alright then. Just stay there until I'm done. Shifty stay with him."
The ragdoll familiar gurgled a response before sitting back on his hutches watching with his many eyes as Hazelle walked up to one shelf and pulled out a random book to look at it. Timmy stood there just outside the doorway and sighed before stepping back and jumping as a crunching sound popped out from under his foot. He snapped down seeing something sparkle in the dim light. Curious he lifted his foot to look at it. It was...glass? Crystal? No. It was too cold to be glass or crystal. Ice? What was ice doing here? His purple eyes blinked following the small shards of ice over to the double doors just across the hall from the library. Blinking Timmy followed the shards over to the door before placing his hands on the door and pushing it open with a loud creak. What he saw on the other side made his eyes widen nearly bugging out of his skull.
"Holy peck!"
Gold! Tons of golden shiny crowns were just piled up EVERYWHERE in this seeming bedroom! All over the floor, under the bed, stuffed into the drawers of the vanity, and even a few hanging from the chandelier. He stared at all of them in awe. There must've been at least a hundred of them! But...what were all these crowns doing in an abandoned mansion? It just didn't make any sense. Timmy suddenly stopped before shivering and reaching his hands up to rub his arms. Hey. What was the big deal? It suddenly dropped a lot more degrees colder. Purple eyes looked around before freezing- Literally. Ice shards started to crackle and form as frost covered the walls and his breath could be seen. An almost darkness distorted the area as shadows grew-
HIIIISSSSS!!!!
His head snapped around as Shapeshifter suddenly hissed and snarled up the hallway. His eyes shrank in size from the cold wafting from up the hallway.
"HAZELLE!!"
The witch was there in an instant and both froze as the shadow of red eyes charged down towards them all. The cold aura she radiated distorting the air around her and causing ice to develop in their veins.
Vanessa.
"SHIFTER!! SAVE TIMMY!!"
Timmy could only scream out as the menagerie and cloth and eyes bit the back of his shirt and jerked him up into the air. Shapeshifter. BOLTED. The familiar ran full speed on all fours running down the hall and towards the open window with a the glass long since broken out and Timmy shrieked in fear as Shapeshifter LEAPT and jumped out the second story window as the cold fully seeped into Hazelle's terrified form. Shadows seeped up with a cold hand and pointed out the same way the witch's familiar left with the boy.
"AFTER THEM!!"
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The creature of vengeance was known as one of promises and dealings. Whether If one were to want something most dear to their heart and was determined and pure, or if their heart was filled with greed, envy, and lust he would grant your reply if you were brave or stupid enough to find him. It was when one day a child from a nearby village heard of this rumor that they were excited to find out if it was true or not. Against their parents and everyone else's wishes and warnings, the small child had snuck out to venture into the forbidden dark woods. The brambles scraped and left cuts on their body, the creatures chased after and threatened to eat them if they didn't turn back now, for darker and more sinister things slept in these woods, but bravely the child went on. On and on on their journey to really see this sinister ghost who granted wishes and promises that the mortal eye would repulse to believe. Until the sinister avenger had been found and the massive shadow beckoned the child closer with a boney rigged hand.
"You have traveled far and withstood the tests my forces forwarded. For that you have earned the right to one miracle granted to you. But a warning you have also earned. Be warned, with a pure and honest heart comes great rewards. With a heart who bleeds nothing but black with greed and jealousy, a foul end you shall meet. Think about the consequences greatly, for the repercussions shall be swift and tight. Think well, dear child."
The small child dared to smile at the creature and simply reply, "I have no need for any treasures or anything of preciousness near me. I solely only wished for to see myself if the avenger of shadows was a true sight. And now that I have seen you for what a true being you are, I will simply be leaving satisfied my wish was fulfilled."
The answer of the child amused the ancient spirit and he chuckled his hollow laugh at the very notion of it all.
"Wise answer to an otherwise difficult mortal choice. For that you shall still be granted a prize for your efforts. Name one and answer wisely."
The small child as said had no need for such items like treasure and fortune, but they knew that the child's hard working mother were in need of some fortune in her life. So with a kind heart, the child looked to the spirit and asked for their miracle. "My mother works oh so hard to take care of me. It would be so nice for her to have just a little more luck on her side. Oh spirit, let me repay her for all her kindness she has shown me."
"Your wish shall be granted. A selfless act is always it's own reward, but be wary of those who wish to use those fortunes to their own will."
The child was permitted a safe leave back to their home and as promised their selfless act of kindness was granted by the spirit of shadows. The child and their mother mysteriously found an old box in their pantry one day that they had never known of before and upon opening it discovered many, many priceless jewels. The likes of which they had never seen before. With this new found fortune, the mother and child were able to gain a plentiful farm with all the necessities they needed to have a plentiful life. Farther down in the years the mother even remarried one of the strongest most handsome men in the small village. But this man was nothing but green with want, and treated the mother and her child terribly-
"Hey. Uh....Boss?"
The pages of Snatcher's book crinkled before he looked up annoyed at having his reading time. He stared at the minion shifting nervously before him. "What is it Minion Two Hundred Four? Can't you see I'm busy?"
"Um....Well I-I just came back from checking the mansion duty, Boss."
"Oh. Well what is she doing now? Destroying another painting or calling for a stupid prince again?"
"Uh..No. That's what I came to tell you. She's uh...N-Not in the manor, Boss."
There was silence as Snatcher just stared at him. "What?"
"Yeah. I looked in every room from the basement to the attic. She's not there!"
"W H A T?!"
A book thudded to the ground. The minion didn't even get a chance to speak before a snake like figure shot out of the home like a rocket and right towards the cold parts of the forest. Crows and spiders scattered in his path as the Spector shot between the dead trees. The long broken bridge barely greeted him as he flew over it and into the snow bound territory. Phasing through the ice and snow before arriving inside the dome and stopping. In the middle of this icy prison was the infamous summer house he once visited when alive. The last time he was here was when Poppy was revived by accident and the kid had to pull him outta trouble. Just staring for a moment he finally made his way over. Coming to the walls he just phased himself through the walls without stopping and there he was in the first floor of the manor. The place felt...Empty. Barren. He couldn't detect another presence of anyone living or dead. He didn't stand there for long. He made a quick search of the first floor then the second floor and then the third floor and attic with all its creep graffiti. Before finally shooting back down to the first floor to shove his head through the floor to check the basement full of water. Nothing. Absolutely positively nothing. Just as the minion told him. Panic coursed through his ectoplasm as he realized Vanessa was not here. That's ridiculous. Where could she be?! There wasn't anyway she could escape the manor! She was cursed to roam where she once lived! Snapping his head back up from the floor Snatcher stood there for a moment before a cold breeze brushed over him causing his head to turn. And he froze as he saw something that he looked over in his first search.
THERE WAS A GIANT GAPING HOLE IN THE WALL.
He stood there for a moment before slowly floating over and stopping and looking inside. It was pitch black and stone steps lead down into it. A cold breeze blew from within. A...tunnel? What was a pecking tunnel doing inside the manor?! He didn't have time to think of an answer before a magical tug on his soul called out to him from four others in panic making him snap his head around wide eyed.
"POPPY!! MY KIDS!!"
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To Love a Ranger Chapter 19- Aragorn x OC
Aragorn x Issa
Description: Issa wakes up after the Battle of Pelennor Fields.
Word Count: 2k
A/N: Guys we only have like two chapters left of this series! I can't believe I'm actually about to finish my third series. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this!
Issa’s eyes slowly fluttered open, only to immediately close them as direct sunlight of the early morning hit them. She turned her head away as she lifted a hand to rub her eyes before looking around. Several other beds laid amongst hers with other people sporting various injuries. She must’ve been in the House of Healing in Minas Tirith.
Slowly, she began to sit up, then groaned. A dull pain shot through her stomach and shoulder, and her hand automatically went to it, and she discovered that her abdomen was covered with bandages. She couldn’t do much more before she heard a very familiar voice.
“Issa, you’re awake!” She heard Eowyn’s voice before actually seeing her. Next thing she knew, a flash of white appeared in her vision before Eowyn’s face came into view.
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re okay,” she spoke, resting a hand against the girl’s cheek. Issa couldn’t help but smile as she leaned into her friend’s touch.
“Eowyn,” she greeted softly, voice slightly hoarse. “What happened?”
“You were injured in battle,” another voice came from the doorway. Both girls looked at it and discovered it to be a man. Issa didn’t immediately recognize him but based on Eowyn’s smile when looking at him, she knew he was a friend.
“You’re lucky that Aragorn found you in time. If the healers waited any longer, I hate to say it, but I don’t believe that you would have made it,” he continued. Both Eowyn and Issa flinched at that, and he offered them a sympathetic smile. Issa sighed softly, then perked up as the memories of the battle hit her.
“Aragorn. Where is he?” She asked urgently. “Last I saw him was on the battlefield. Is he okay?” The duo shared a look that made nerves begin to fester in the pit of Issa’s stomach before facing the girl again.
“I do not know if you will like the answer,” Eowyn responded hesitantly.
“Oh gods, please don’t tell me he’s….” She trailed off, not having the will to finish her sentence. Eowyn’s eyes widened at that, and she quickly shook her head.
“Oh, no! No, nothing like that,” she said, which allowed Issa to calm down. “No, he and your companions along with what remained of the uninjured soldiers from the battle marched to the Black Gate to create a diversion. They only left an hour ago.”
Issa couldn’t tell if that was better or worse than him already being dead. The thought of Aragorn possibly marching to his death without her by his side was too awful to imagine. Immediately her mind was sent into overdrive and she’d begun trying to stand up without even realizing it. It wasn’t until she felt hands on her shoulders attempting to carefully lay her back down (not to mention that awful sting in her stomach and shoulder) that she’d come back to reality and realized Eowyn was speaking to her.
“Issa, no,” Eowyn scolded without any real conviction behind her tone, having been the one to push her back onto her pillow. The girl merely shook her head as she fought against the girl’s grip.
“I-I have to go. I have to help them,” she said, her panic overriding any critical thinking. “Please! Let me go!”
“You will only hinder them,” the Princess responded gently. “Your wounds are still healing, you’ll never reach them in time. They must do this without you.” It was only when she looked at Eowyn with blurred vision that Issa realized she’d begun crying. Sobs racked her body as she finally fell back down, having no strength to fight anymore when a second pair of hands held her down as Eowyn stroked her hair soothingly.
It had been nearly a week since the soldiers of Middle Earth left Minas Tirith to march the Black Gate. Things had felt rather slow since then. Not that that was a bad thing to most, but to Issa it was agony. With time seeming to pass so slowly it felt like it had been an eternity since she’d last seen and/or heard from any of her companions. She’d come to accept it wouldn’t be wise to follow Aragorn (as much as she wanted to) and apologized to Eowyn for her earlier breakdown. Of course the Princess understood, so forgiveness was granted without hesitation.
Issa spent most of her time in the House of Healing, talking to a few Rohan soldiers she recognized as a way to distract herself. She talked to Eowyn a few times, happy to see that the Princess was not only okay after what happened, but she seemed to take a liking to the Steward’s youngest son, Faramir (who she’d learned was the one with Eowyn when Issa first woke up). She’d seen them standing close together as they looked out over the city. It warmed her heart that after so much heartbreak Eowyn was able to find a light amongst the darkness that consumed them.
She desperately wished that she could do the same with Aragorn. She’d been worrying herself sick since the soldiers of Gondor and Rohan left (albeit silently). Every so often she found herself absentmindedly glancing out of one of the many windows that faced Mordor. Of course she couldn’t see the soldiers or anything, but instead the only things big enough for her to see were the tower of Sauron and Mount Doom. If she looked hard enough, she could even see the Black Gate. That was all she had, so all she could do was hope for the best case scenario.
Issa once again sat with Eowyn and Faramir on her bed. Her injuries had healed almost completely (though there’d likely be scars that won’t go away) so she was finally allowed to stand up and move around. They’d just finished a walk around the House of Healing to stretch Issa’s legs when a loud and very sudden boom was heard in the distance. Immediately all chatter in the room ceased as everyone simultaneously realized that the noise had come from Mordor.
All at once the ones who could stand without pain (which wasn’t actually that many) stood up and rushed to the windows that lined the room. Since Issa’s bed was right beside one of the windows that faced Mordor none of them had to get up to see, so instead they just sat and glanced out.
In the distance, the Eye of Sauron suddenly flared, looking around desperately. Screeches and groans rang out loud enough for it to reach Gondor. Issa could only watch in shock as the tower of Barad Dur began to collapse, and once it fell to the ground the Eye suddenly exploded, sending a huge shockwave outwards that could’ve knocked her back if it was any stronger. She heard several gasps as she gathered her bearings, which made her look out the window once again. The grounds just outside the Black Gate gave way, sending the army of Orcs to their deaths and sparing the army of Middle Earth. For a moment there was silence, the only sound being that of Mount Doom beginning to erupt to wash away the evils of Mordor.
“They did it,” Eowyn muttered quietly in shock before looking around at the others. Her eyes met Issa’s and the girl felt a smile form on her face.
“They did it!” She repeated, much louder and more joyfully this time as happy tears welling up in her eyes. Cheers erupted from the room as everyone began celebrating. Issa laughed as Eowyn pulled her into a bone crushing hug, which she returned with a relieved laugh. As the two embraced, Issa’s eyes moved back to the window once again, where she could very faintly see the soldiers of Gondor and Rohan. She had a good feeling about the homecoming of the soldiers.
Issa stood outside with the rest of the friends and family of soldiers, all eagerly awaiting the arrival of their loved ones. Excited chatter filled the silence, but she was too excited to even speak. Her eyes stayed on the entrance of Minas Tirith, where the gates were already open in preparation for the homecoming.
She only managed to tear her gaze away when she felt someone grab her hand. Upon looking to her left she was met with Eowyn. Her dear friend offered her a small smile and nod, wordlessly signaling that everything would be okay. Though Issa already knew this, she still felt comforted by it and she returned the gesture. Their silent conversation was interrupted by someone in the crowd yelling.
“There they are!” The person exclaimed, which made everyone turn towards the gates instantly. Sure enough, there was a mass of people both on horses and walking towards them with smiles on their faces. Almost immediately cheers erupted from the crowd as the soldiers got through the gates. Eomer, along with the rest of the Fellowship were at the forefront. Issa’s breath hitched at the sight of her fiancé, who seemed to be having a rather happy looking conversation with Legolas, who was on the horse beside him with Gimli.
Once the soldiers stopped they dismounted their horses. Everyone else took that as their signal to greet their loved ones because everyone began running to their respective soldiers. A small laugh left Issa’s lips, though she found herself doing the same as she attempted to locate Aragorn in the large crowd. After a few minutes he found him (and the rest of their companions) halfway up the stairs talking to Eowyn and Faramir, all with smiles on their faces. Her eyes met the Princess’, and the girl offered Issa a smile before saying something to Aragorn that she couldn’t hear over the cheers and chatter around her. Whatever she said, however, was enough to make Aragorn turn to face Ussa. Their eyes met just a moment later, his mesmerizing blue eyes staring into hers as a look of happiness and relief filled them.
Issa hadn’t even realized she was moving until she felt someone bump into her, but it didn’t slow her down in the slightest. Aragorn jogged down the rest of the steps in an attempt to meet her halfway. They ultimately reached each other once they simultaneously reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Meleth nin (My love,),” the Man muttered just before his arms wrapped around her waist, the girl copying his movement immediately. Tears welled up in her eyes as she hugged him so tight she was surprised he was still breathing. To have him in her arms once again, her relief was beyond words. She gasped loudly then laughed jovially when he suddenly picked her up and spun her.
Neither of their grips faltered even when he set her down nor when he suddenly pressed his lips to hers in a passionate kiss that she quickly returned. The kiss left both of them breathless by the time they pulled away. Once they did, Issa brought their foreheads together and opened her eyes to see Aragorn smiling at her.
“I’m so happy you’re okay,” she whispered, though he could still hear her.
“I am too, I was so worried about you,” he responded softly. Issa’s smile widened (if it were even possible as she glanced at their friends, who were all watching them with fond smiles.
“Frodo,” Issa suddenly realized, facing Aragorn again. “Is he…” Almost as if it were a cue, two Great Eagles swooped overhead, one holding Samwise in its talons while the other held none other than Frodo along with Gandalf, who rode on its back.
“Alive,” Aragorn answered simply, which thankfully confirmed her hopes. That reassurance brought back her immense relief, and she found herself smiling at him before pulling him into another kiss. They both had the distinct feeling that things would be better from now on.
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𝙴𝙳 . . . @faeties ( continued. )
the words are HARD, but the voice is SOFT. ed cannot help but bask in it. in the attention, in each syllable. in the gentle thumb that glides along his cheek. the tears come then, pushed over the edge by such a small touch. by such a small kindness.
edmund gray was not a kind person. anyone with the last name gray, had had their kindness stolen by a woman whose cruelty festered within her chest. but ed believed he simply wasn’t born with it. there was no nature within him to be gentle, only frail. unkindness festered in him as well.
“i...” he hiccups. what can he say? what words could even begin to the describe the indignation that bubbles up in his chest and then the weight that hangs there with the TRUTH of it? he closes his eyes for a moment, picturing the two of them on the way to the city, unaware of the decision ed would make once they were there.
words rarely fail ed. usually, they bent to his will, able to break and bend until they were something twisted and beautiful to behold. when he didn’t end up hating them a few days later at any rate. yet, his face in the hands of arlo tesser, the HURT between them laid bare, he finds there are no words that are sufficient. arlo sees through his words anyway. he always has.
“sorry is all i have to give,” he lands on, body tensing, “i know it’s not enough.” it was never going to be enough. ed was never going to be ENOUGH.
but that didn’t stop the wanting— the craving for a lifeline he never deserved. none of that stopped the sickness. the blood in his throat. the exhaustion in his eyes. the vertigo when he moved too fast since this sickness began... this particular bout of illness was taking its toll. yet he was still here.
WHY?
“...but i... i did mean that,” he murmurs, “i couldn’t see how you could ever be happy with ME. the days— you seemed so happy with them. a road to hell paved with good intentions is still a road to hell... and, yes, it was because i still cannot fathom the idea how anyone could be happy with me. which doesn’t... well, you already know.” nothing can ever be made right again.
his voice gains confidence and an infinite sadness in equal measure. he wants arlo to kiss him. he wants arlo to plunge a knife into his throat.
“and i’m looking at us now and i see i was RIGHT,” his body shakes, his hands clutching at arlo’s wrist, mind reeling as he shrinks into himself, feeling so small, so young, “...so what do you want? because if you want me DEAD, then kill me. i know it’s a kindness i don’t deserve, to give me what i want. but i... i want to leave, arlo. i want to leave...”
the city. this life. it didn’t matter. all of it was the same. but if he was going to go somewhere arlo would not follow, he knew which he preferred.
in every way known to man, happiness was abstract. while it felt as real as any warm and solid thing underneath their grasp, arlo knew the sight of it was deceiving. after all, hadn’t monica smiled through the pain of having to care for him in an unforgiving world; hadn’t she played and laughed with him as they raced through desolate and dangerous lands? it hadn’t been happiness that lingered in arlo when he’d first met the days, but a sense of comfort and a feeling of hope he was hesitant to grasp. arlo was no poet, but warmth and sunlight… it was easy to mistake light for happiness, to see something bright and turn at the chance to bask in it.
arlo was not the nights, who reveled in their shadows and secrecy. and arlo was not ed, whom had made the dark his own. but arlo loved the dark just as well, had learned to respect it and see the potential there. and what that said about edmund gray, well… anyone could look into arlo’s eyes and see the weight of the man in his heart.
everyone, that was, but ed himself. and it stings, so much so that the thought brings a smile to his face, despair and disbelief mixing in equal parts within him. it’s not funny — god knows this world, this heartbreak, has wrung out any humor from him. BUT IT IS CRUEL, to trace the soft curve of his frown with a weathered gaze, hand still upon skin, and think that there is nothing else arlo tesser would have wanted more than to have another day, another week, another year with edmund gray.
❝ you always were the stupidest genius i ever met. ❞ touch gentle and deliberate, he brushes the moisture away from ed’s cheek. if it feels like giving too much away, arlo can’t help it. some things are too deeply ingrained in him, and so many of them bare the name of this perfect nightmare before him. ❝ but that’s alright, i guess i couldn’t ask you to change your nature. or to hope you’d want to change. ❞ for me, he doesn’t say. that’s admitting to more than too much, like giving away the plot in one of ed’s convoluted stories. or starting a new one when the one they’d written has long since ended.
he should pull away. he knows. arlo’s hands don’t belong on the other, and he’s said his goodbye a dozen times now. still, he lingers, wondering if he’ll feel any relief to know that he could soon live in a city that did not bear the other’s presence anymore. but the beating thing in his chest offers no answers, whispers no secrets. hell, arlo supposes he already knows the answers, because he still hasn’t moved. doesn’t move when he says, ❝ i would have left with you. ❞ and stronger still: ❝ you were wrong, because i spent weeks after you walked away thinking… that if you just came back to me, apologized, i would have left with you. ❞
there’s no anger left in his tone. arlo’s too tired for it now. he looks down wearily, the weight of the world he’d been left behind in pushing him down. and he endured it now, left with no choice. what did he want? a conclusion. a time machine. to not know another heavy choice again. but that’s impossible, so he looks back up, finding the strength that was built into his bones generations ago.
❝ i want you to stop being a coward, edmund gray. ❞ he forces himself not to swallow, throat dry as the words flow out. malice is not the intent, but he needs the harshness to be felt, as thick on his tongue as he utters every word carefully. ❝ you survived this cruel world, yet you still haven’t learned how to fight. and it takes fight to let yourself chase what you want — even death. ❞
#suicidal ideation tw#long post /#arlo isn’t saying kill yourself but that’s very much what it sounds like and i am so sorry for that bc im also directly thinking about this#and how arlo sure as hell isn’t going to kill him but he also is tired of ed putting these things on other people#arlo wants him to fight for LIFE but he’s saying it in a way that ed will get and not thinking about how it might be taken#faeties#faeties: edmund.#faeties: [edmund & arlo].#╰ 𝙰𝚁𝙻𝙾 𝚃. ╯ ⋯ even the trees lean away from my voracious loneliness
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That Bloomin' Curse Ch2 The Curse And An Empty House
(if you don't know who Hazelle is, there is a witch npc in the game that I just repurposed and gave an identity to for the story. Picture of Hazelle above.)
Subcon Forest was not a place for just anyone to enter and exit as they please. There was a reason these woods had such a feared reputation and was rumored to be haunted. Because it was. By the King Snatcher of Subcon(as he liked to refer to himself) and his ghastly assortment of minions and dwellers behind him as his undead army, anyone who went in NEVER came out which added to the entire frightfulness of it all!!...Well no one except three little giggling girls who were currently playing with toys and crayons and a certain red head who was busy tending to her garden somewhere. BUT THEY DIDN'T COUNT!! The dark sky and dead trees twisted with dangerous vines as the sun dared not shine here. If that won't convince you to stay away then maybe the giant chunk of the forest that always so dangerously cold will? Or perhaps the section that's always burning bright with enchanted flames? Or maybe the ghostly king who claimed trespassers' souls as his own or the rumor of a powerful witch? Either way, whatever helps to keep trespassers out he was all for it. But he had no real responsibilities today. The brats could wonder around his woods as long as they didn't go near the frozen half or Vanessa, or they could go exploring on any other part of the planet for all he cared. As long as they were all back home and in bed by six he was fine with it. And Poppy by now knew these woods pretty well so he wasn't so worried about her. Right now he was sitting down enjoying his book of dark tales and legends as he relaxed in his home. The old book in his claws as glowing yellow eyes scanned over the story unfolding from it's yellow pages.
Down in the world unknown there laid a kingdom drab and dark. Where darkness and shadows collided and lived in fear and power. One would be mad to even think about stepping in a place like this. Where the dead are gone but still there, the shadows played and roamed and full of terror. A frightful place brace heros dare not venture unless they wish to meet a tragic fate. Yes. This one place was alone ruled by a power hungry spirit, spited by his love in life and now seeks vengeance on any mortal who dared be foolish enough to be beckoned into his awaiting claws-
"Hello, Snatchy. Still reading those same drab books on cursed kingdoms? It's a bit ironic don't you think?"
Yellow eyes narrowed before the book was lowered and he stared right at copper eyes. "Oh look who it is. It's the annoying witch that bugs me all the time. Don't you have a cauldron to stir?"
Hazelle only chuckled and rose a brow. "Really Snatcher. I thought you'd be more nice to an old friend. How's Poppy doing? It's been awhile since I've seen her."
"Just tell me what you want THIS time. Or are you here just to bother me again."
She tutted. "Now let's not start a fight. There's children just outside of your tree." He frowned harder. "Oh alright if you're going to be a baby about it. I came here to ask you about that mansion you've had in your forest for quite some time." She gestured with an arm.
A brow rose on the ghost. "The mansion?" That was Vanessa's old family home when she wasn't in her castle or at the summer house he usually stayed at when he was alive and visiting her. But now she was forever trapped in her summer house and the mansion being inside his territory was now his. But that begged the question."What the peck could you want to go there for?"
"I want to check out the old place for possible magic remnants. If there's magic festering in there for over a thousand years then imagine what I could do with that."
He...never thought of that but he didn't like anyone else tampering with things that was obviously HIS either even if Hazelle and himself were on good terms. But he also knew Hazelle wouldn't use it against him and just go there anyways if he said no. Plus he didn't know what was in there really. Hadn't been back since he died. But Hazelle would be able to harness anything that might've been there. She could make blue potions that harmed ghosts after all and he definitely found those helpful.
He groaned again. "Fine. But on one condition." He pointed at her with a stern claw. "Whatever magical whatchamacallit stuff you find I GET A CUT IN. It's only natural since I'm generously letting you have something that's rightfully mine."
Hazelle only rolled her eyes. "Deal. But I should let you know that I'm bringing Shifty and Timmy with me. It'd be good for both of them to get out."
He let out a longer groan before holding up the book to his face again. "Fine but that dumb familiar of yours better not try to chase around my minions again!"
"Oh he's just playing." She then turned and began walking her pink and white clothes bodied out of the treehouse.
"I DON'T CARE IF HE'S TRYING TO PUT OUT A FIRE!! THAT OLD SACK OF RAGS CAN STAY AWAY FROM MY MINIONS!!" Hazelle sighed rolling her eyes and shaking her head as Snatcher bellowed out of his tree- "AND I KNOW MOONBOY IS PLAYING AROUND HERE TOO! I CAN FEEL HIM IN MY ECTOPLASM!! TELL HIM TO STAY AWAY FROM POPPY AND GET OUT OF MY FOREST!!"
Hazelle again sighed hopping off the large vine leading out of the treehouse and turned her head towards where she left Timmy. Oh there he was! The brown haired boy was chatting away with his three friends as the three girls happily chatted back with Shapeshifter looming over them curiously. Ah! She also recognized that red headed woman there casually holding a tool box in one hand and turned upon hearing her approaching. Poppy smiled at her.
"Ah! Well if it ain't Hazelle." All the children looked over hearing her talk. "I knew ya couldn't be too far if Timmy was around. Come back for more of them herbs I grow?"
Hazelle shook her head no. "No. We're actually going on a field trip to the old mansion up on the cliff side. I take it you're building something with those tools?"
Poppy nodded. "Yeah! That old house everyone keeps callin' Snatcher's Shack. Ah'm gonna fix it up and move into it. I figured it would be an easier place ta live than the spaceship. At least n's the shack everythin' is my size."
"And we're helping!" Hattie added throwing up her hand much to Bow's agreement but Muriel rolled her eyes.
"Sounds boring if you ask me." The blonde tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder. "Exploring an abandoned manor sounds waaaay cooler than building a house."
"Well if you're good then maybe we can go see some o' the old villager's houses." Poppy then looked around them curiously. "By the way where's that red eyed phantom at? I heard Snatcher's screechin' 'bout Moonjumper."
"Oh he's here. He's just off looking over some of the mushroom patches deeper in the forest. He said something about trying to see if his red threads worked on fungi."
Poppy grimaced at the reminder of those red strings but shrugged it off. "Well...as long as he's not causing trouble or messin' with Snatcher. Ya want some company? We're headin' that way anyways."
Hazelle smiled. "Sure. It'd be nice to have the company."
The small group of two women, four children, and Shapeshifter traveled away from Snatcher's treehouse and down into the forest. It was as peacefully gloomy as always and they were greeted by many subconites and dwellers running around the place. Ducking from spiders and looking over the beautiful vines growing everywhere. Ah. The thorns were growing in beautifully this year. Eventually the group did stop by the old mostly still held together shack. Although the entire front of the house was gone. Yeesh. Poppy sure had her work cut out for her.Ah. And right up on the cliff was the decrepted remains of an old building. A VERY big old building at that. That was definitely Vanessa's old manor and it was sitting there just waiting for them to investigate. Bidding good bye to Poppy and the girls, Hazelle and her two trusty helpers went on their way past the shack and up towards the manor. And by that Hazelle just snapped her fingers casting a teleportation spell to transport the three of them in front of the manor's doors as Timmy shook his head and looked up before letting his eyes go wide.
"Blimey!," she shouted before grabbing his hat with one hand craning his neck up. "This place is huge!"
Hazelle also looked up at what he was looking at and hummed. It certainly was. The outside tall four story building was crawling with vines growing up it's sides and many cracks grew in the stone structure from being abandoned for so long and neglected. Windows were broken, dirtied, or just plain missing altogether. The giant wooden doors barely looked like they were hanging onto the hinges as the thick wood rotted away. Definitely a place that you didn't want to be caught in as it crumbled into nothing but dust. With a hum at the state of the doors, Hazelle started her way through the doors. Her palms pressed against the cold wood before pushing forward and making the large doors open with a loud creaking noise. A rush of cold air washed over the three of them making goosebumps rose on their skin. It was...oddly colder than the outside. The sight that met them was...well what you'd expect for an abandoned haunted mansion. Rotting and old furniture was placed everywhere. A few paintings hung by a thread on the walls and a staircase of stone lead up to the second floor. Cob webs, dust, and the smell of must filled all available space. Her copper eyes glanced wearily at the ceiling where a giant old chandelier teetered dangerously over the massive lobby... She'd definitely be careful regarding that.
"Sooo where are we starting first?," Timmy asked peeking his purple eyes around the place and shuffling closer to her.
"Well I'd like to see the library and see if there's any useful books still in tact." Her head turned to the stone steps. "Moonjumper said that it'd be on the second floor." She had asked Moonjumper for his memory about the layout of the mansion for any useful information and the Spector had recalled that he had seen a library on the second floor from the few times he had been there when alive. "C'mon. But stay close to me. Ok?"
"Um.. Yeah."
Hazelle started off towards the stairs with Timmy glued to her side and Shapeshifter waddling behind them blinking his eyes around the place. Their footsteps echoed with each step and the floors creaked and groaned with each each step. As if the wood and stone would collapse under them at any moment. It didn't and further into the mansion they went. Although...oddly it was getting colder and colder the farther they went. The second floor was in worse shape than the first. The wood flooring was missing a few parts in the floor and the parts of the walls that weren't stone. Clutter strung about the dusty floors and wallpaper hung off in strips. Above them the ceiling that also lead into the third floor was also missing random pieces leaving gaping holes. Alright. Moonjumper said that the Library was on the second floor and behind the third pair of doors to the right and left side of the hallway. Hazelle kept going with the two still by her side. Creaking floorboards continued to sound off as she navigated into the hallway to the right and stopped at the third pair of double doors. This was it. With a push the doors creaked open with a puff of dust. Hazelle coughed taking her pointed witch hat to fan the dust away before blinking at the inside. Inside was the BIGGEST library she's ever seen! A crumbling fireplace stood in the middle surrounded by LARGE shelves of old books of various shapes, colors, and sizes and a few torn and broken armchairs. Along with a large hole in the ceiling.
"I bet Snatcher would love this place." She plopped the hat back on her head before slowly stepping in and looking around. "Maybe I'll just pluck a few anyways just to take back to him and Moonjumper."
"Uh..I think I'll just wait out here. I don't trust that ceiling," Timmy said eyeing the ceiling nervously.
"Alright then. Just stay there until I'm done. Shifty stay with him."
The ragdoll familiar gurgled a response before sitting back on his hutches watching with his many eyes as Hazelle walked up to one shelf and pulled out a random book to look at it. Timmy stood there just outside the doorway and sighed before stepping back and jumping as a crunching sound popped out from under his foot. He snapped down seeing something sparkle in the dim light. Curious he lifted his foot to look at it. It was...glass? Crystal? No. It was too cold to be glass or crystal. Ice? What was ice doing here? His purple eyes blinked following the small shards of ice over to the double doors just across the hall from the library. Blinking Timmy followed the shards over to the door before placing his hands on the door and pushing it open with a loud creak. What he saw on the other side made his eyes widen nearly bugging out of his skull.
"Holy peck!"
Gold! Tons of golden shiny crowns were just piled up EVERYWHERE in this seeming bedroom! All over the floor, under the bed, stuffed into the drawers of the vanity, and even a few hanging from the chandelier. He stared at all of them in awe. There must've been at least a hundred of them! But...what were all these crowns doing in an abandoned mansion? It just didn't make any sense. Timmy suddenly stopped before shivering and reaching his hands up to rub his arms. Hey. What was the big deal? It suddenly dropped a lot more degrees colder. Purple eyes looked around before freezing- Literally. Ice shards started to crackle and form as frost covered the walls and his breath could be seen. An almost darkness distorted the area as shadows grew-
HIIIISSSSS!!!!
His head snapped around as Shapeshifter suddenly hissed and snarled up the hallway. His eyes shrank in size from the cold wafting from up the hallway.
"HAZELLE!!"
The witch was there in an instant and both froze as the shadow of red eyes charged down towards them all. The cold aura she radiated distorting the air around her and causing ice to develop in their veins.
Vanessa.
"SHIFTER!! SAVE TIMMY!!"
Timmy could only scream out as the menagerie and cloth and eyes bit the back of his shirt and jerked him up into the air. Shapeshifter. BOLTED. The familiar ran full speed on all fours running down the hall and towards the open window with a the glass long since broken out and Timmy shrieked in fear as Shapeshifter LEAPT and jumped out the second story window as the cold fully seeped into Hazelle's terrified form. Shadows seeped up with a cold hand and pointed out the same way the witch's familiar left with the boy.
"AFTER THEM!!"
************************************************************************
The creature of vengeance was known as one of promises and dealings. Whether If one were to want something most dear to their heart and was determined and pure, or if their heart was filled with greed, envy, and lust he would grant your reply if you were brave or stupid enough to find him. It was when one day a child from a nearby village heard of this rumor that they were excited to find out if it was true or not. Against their parents and everyone else's wishes and warnings, the small child had snuck out to venture into the forbidden dark woods. The brambles scraped and left cuts on their body, the creatures chased after and threatened to eat them if they didn't turn back now, for darker and more sinister things slept in these woods, but bravely the child went on. On and on on their journey to really see this sinister ghost who granted wishes and promises that the mortal eye would repulse to believe. Until the sinister avenger had been found and the massive shadow beckoned the child closer with a boney rigged hand.
"You have traveled far and withstood the tests my forces forwarded. For that you have earned the right to one miracle granted to you. But a warning you have also earned. Be warned, with a pure and honest heart comes great rewards. With a heart who bleeds nothing but black with greed and jealousy, a foul end you shall meet. Think about the consequences greatly, for the repercussions shall be swift and tight. Think well, dear child."
The small child dared to smile at the creature and simply reply, "I have no need for any treasures or anything of preciousness near me. I solely only wished for to see myself if the avenger of shadows was a true sight. And now that I have seen you for what a true being you are, I will simply be leaving satisfied my wish was fulfilled."
The answer of the child amused the ancient spirit and he chuckled his hollow laugh at the very notion of it all.
"Wise answer to an otherwise difficult mortal choice. For that you shall still be granted a prize for your efforts. Name one and answer wisely."
The small child as said had no need for such items like treasure and fortune, but they knew that the child's hard working mother were in need of some fortune in her life. So with a kind heart, the child looked to the spirit and asked for their miracle. "My mother works oh so hard to take care of me. It would be so nice for her to have just a little more luck on her side. Oh spirit, let me repay her for all her kindness she has shown me."
"Your wish shall be granted. A selfless act is always it's own reward, but be wary of those who wish to use those fortunes to their own will."
The child was permitted a safe leave back to their home and as promised their selfless act of kindness was granted by the spirit of shadows. The child and their mother mysteriously found an old box in their pantry one day that they had never known of before and upon opening it discovered many, many priceless jewels. The likes of which they had never seen before. With this new found fortune, the mother and child were able to gain a plentiful farm with all the necessities they needed to have a plentiful life. Farther down in the years the mother even remarried one of the strongest most handsome men in the small village. But this man was nothing but green with want, and treated the mother and her child terribly-
"Hey. Uh....Boss?"
The pages of Snatcher's book crinkled before he looked up annoyed at having his reading time. He stared at the minion shifting nervously before him. "What is it Minion Two Hundred Four? Can't you see I'm busy?"
"Um....Well I-I just came back from checking the mansion duty, Boss."
"Oh. Well what is she doing now? Destroying another painting or calling for a stupid prince again?"
"Uh..No. That's what I came to tell you. She's uh...N-Not in the manor, Boss."
There was silence as Snatcher just stared at him. "What?"
"Yeah. I looked in every room from the basement to the attic. She's not there!"
"W H A T?!"
A book thudded to the ground. The minion didn't even get a chance to speak before a snake like figure shot out of the home like a rocket and right towards the cold parts of the forest. Crows and spiders scattered in his path as the Spector shot between the dead trees. The long broken bridge barely greeted him as he flew over it and into the snow bound territory. Phasing through the ice and snow before arriving inside the dome and stopping. In the middle of this icy prison was the infamous summer house he once visited when alive. The last time he was here was when Poppy was revived by accident and the kid had to pull him outta trouble. Just staring for a moment he finally made his way over. Coming to the walls he just phased himself through the walls without stopping and there he was in the first floor of the manor. The place felt...Empty. Barren. He couldn't detect another presence of anyone living or dead. He didn't stand there for long. He made a quick search of the first floor then the second floor and then the third floor and attic with all its creep graffiti. Before finally shooting back down to the first floor to shove his head through the floor to check the basement full of water. Nothing. Absolutely positively nothing. Just as the minion told him. Panic coursed through his ectoplasm as he realized Vanessa was not here. That's ridiculous. Where could she be?! There wasn't anyway she could escape the manor! She was cursed to roam where she once lived! Snapping his head back up from the floor Snatcher stood there for a moment before a cold breeze brushed over him causing his head to turn. And he froze as he saw something that he looked over in his first search.
THERE WAS A GIANT GAPING HOLE IN THE WALL.
He stood there for a moment before slowly floating over and stopping and looking inside. It was pitch black and stone steps lead down into it. A cold breeze blew from within. A...tunnel? What was a pecking tunnel doing inside the manor?! He didn't have time to think of an answer before a magical tug on his soul called out to him from four others in panic making him snap his head around wide eyed.
"POPPY!! MY KIDS!!"
#That Bloomin' Curse#a hat in time#ahit timmy#ahit mustache girl#ahit hat kid#ahit conductor#ahit snatcher#ahit shapeshifter#ahit bow kid#ahit florist#dad snatcher#snatcher#snatcher x florist#hazelle#ahit vanessa#subconites
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To be Reset.
Laid back into his grave. As though he never crawled free.
No Pits. No rage. No mistakes and regrets. No darkening his soul with the things he has done. Yet... yet also? None of those lives saved. Those kids fed, those women walked home safe, those few bucks that DID make the difference.
He went broken, into that cold long Night.
He came back RAGING and fighting to make a difference.
He's always known, they all do really, that sometimes? There IS no way out. You make the sacrifice. And like HELL is Jason more important then... then EVERYTHING. Then Kori and Roy, the nibblings, his family. Earth and all those stars.
There is some scared as hell Kid, in a crown, floating up over everyone's heads, trying so SO hard not to look like he IS scared. Everyone's crying and shouting. Cause a racket and making demands at him. Me, me, me! Like the guy's not holding everything they're supposed to LOVE in his hands, trying desperately to save it.
When he didn't have too.
When he could have let nature sort it out.
He's just some kid. Why is this HIS job? What has him so, so damn Scared. Something called "Cleaners". And if that ain't ominous as SHIT...
His Grandparents are here. Friends he doesn't remember how he knows, but KNOWS. He... he was here before. Wasn't he? He can feel it. Some biker ass Librarians are greeting him like he's one of their own. And... and yeah, he can see it.
His eyes keep getting pulled back to that... Not Orb.
His Reality.
It looks WOUNDED. Battered and misshapen, cracked like somebody took a hammer to it. Bleeding green over the edges of the kids hands in steady, unending little rivers. The green oozing out looks... thick and inflamed. Somehow, he has a feeling it shouldn't.
Other? They kinda give the Vibe of Gods. Other BEINGS flow in and out. Peering over the kids shoulder. Tutting and hissing in upset, concern. Apparently it's BAD. Real Bad.
Did... did cause that?
Or was it more? All those over universes, trying too invade. Timeline shifts. Reality rewrites. Multiversal wa... wait. WAIT.
Jason jerks forward.
There universe has crashed into other universe, before. Threatened merges and collapses. Rewrites. What if there PEICES? Like the shrapnel of a shattered shell? He remembers, from his Robin day. From Kori. Sometimes it's not the initial wound that kills. For some races, it's often the shrapnel that those wounds CAUSE, that kills them in the end.
Up above, impossibly, Bruce is here. Uncle Clark. They got the kids attention. But are trying to argue for hissoul like THATS the important thing here. It's not. He's NOT. Damn it, Bruce! People NEED them!
If he's dead, then he's dead! The LIVING need you!
His head hasn't felt this clear in... His eyes find that thick, inflamed, pus like green. Still bleeding from everything he's ever known. Wounds upon Reality itself, long ago festered. Above him that Clock God is smiling, head turned like he's expected him, as Jason shoves through the crowd. New friends and grandparents, helping.
Jason knows that Green.
He REMEMBERS now.
What he saw, deep down in the Pits. What human eyes could not see and human minds could not remember. What drove his Soul to fury and fear, far greater then he ever meant for. The source of the sickness. What made it all so frail, one mere mortal could the walls.
"HEY! KID!"
You know one of the purposes of Lining?
Shock Absorption.
If the Zone is the Inter- and EXTRA-Dimensional Lining, connecting, containing, and generally powering all of Multiversal Creation? The Great Primordial Soup? The Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust, from which we came and too which we return?
If the Zone itself is basicly the place between Universe, where your soul goes to get washed down, cleaned up, recharged, and sent out to wherever the next random portal takes it? To BECOME whatever you happen to find? An infinte recycler and Multiversal management?
The great metaphorical Yggdrasil, grown far beyond few branches, into an incomprehensible forest of one?
Well!
That kinda changes things! And also nothing! Because it means that those who remain? Are basicly squatting in the DMV's attic. Have built bunkers, under the country's main power generator. They really SHOULD move along. Granted, there is no one to MAKE them... but like...
That's cause no one thought anyone would NEED too?
Lol. Don't they feel silly? Anyway, I'ma put MY house over-! *wander off to go squat in the rafters*
Yeah, the CONCEPTS are native. But those probably just generate naturally. It's all the Souls constantly flowing through. Lots of background Sentience and Memories and such being washed away into the air. But? Then these lil souls were like "yeah, but if THEY get to stay... me too! D:< " "no, you can-" "ME TOO" and then they stopped listening and did what they wanted.
Good thing we have literally infinte amounts of room.
T...there's so MANY, you guys.
But! Not the point here!
*smacks white board* Realities! The Die too sometimes! And get born! A beautiful process, really. You can find Reality Beads if you know When and Where to look, some times. They, OBVIOUSLY, don't last for very long. Since they are basicly just seed universe. The explosive growth takes them almost immediately out of our range of perception, as they Begin.
Foundations of all Life and such.
But good God are they MAGNIFICENT!
However, sometimes? The REVERSE happens. If you find the area of the Zone your in? Is getting... "wavey" is the best way people describe it. Distorted. Fun house mirror. As though your vision has weird wrinkles that are distorting and stretching your view of things? Get Out. FAST.
If it's only SLIGHT? Barely noticeable? You can grab your Lair. IF, and ONLY IF you are NEARBY! If not? Remember. Things can be replaced. YOU? Can not.
Cause that "wavey"-ness? Is the final stage of Realm Entropy. The universe that portion over the Zone is covering and connected too, is all hollowed out. And about to CAVE IN. You DO NOT want to be there when that happens!
Remember! You see "waves"? Fly for three days!
Get to the edge of the affected area then KEEP GOING for a full three days flight. Warn everyone in you path. We stay safe together, guy. Collapses are NO JOKE. People get... well. Let's just say it's NOT a nice way too go.
Knowing this of course? We should all be SAFE right? Respectful if Awed distance from Reality Seeds, run like he'll if "waves"? We Gucci?
.....Sooooorta.
*flips Whiteboard to other side, to reveal a cartoonishly drawn Supervillian labeled "Asshole"*
Behold! A Terrorist!
It's a charged word. Not used lightly. But THESE fuckers? Oh ho ho! THESE fuckers?! "Ooooh~! Look at MEEEEE! I'm gonna play with FORCES I DONT UNDERSTAAAAAAAND! Destabilize my whole funckin UNIVERSE! Kill countless TRILLIONS OF TRILLIONS! Cause life was bad to me personally and I'm mad about it! Wah wah wah!!" ASSHOLES!
These fuckers? Cause Collapses. Blow Outs. Weird Fucked Up Cancerous Real Growths. You ever seen the Cleaners? No? You don't WANT TOO. They are basically eldritch, deep sea, angler fish looking mother fuckers THE SIZE OF SOLAR SYSTEMS. They travel in SCHOOLS.
BIG ONES.
When Realities collapse, they "fall off" as it were. Detach. And have to get recycled. All the countless impurities of Life eaten way to a blank slate. So it too, can start again. Thus the Fish. But! They ALSO eat anything "problematic".
Like tumors. Cancers. Poisoned, Multiversal Threats. Those quote on quote "God Killers".
Yes. Yes this IS part of why you DONT want to be near a Collapsing Reality.
No I WON'T explain how I know.
I DONT WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT.
*smack the board with pointer* pay attention.
Jason Todd. Not! An Asshole. Sexy thighs. Fancy lil hair strip. We all miss him. But! He's off living his "no really, I'm totally alive, guys" hot girl summer or whatever. We are going to respect that! But!!! How did that happen? When he was DEFINITELY Hella dead?
Superboy Prime-y Pants. Who IS an ASSHOLE.
Because THAT fucker? PUNCHED HIS REALITY SO HARD IT NEARLY SHATTERED. Oh, no, I'm sorry! He punched SOMEONE ELSE'S reality! Because he is a tantruming MAN CHILD! And NOW? Now, Your Majesty, that WHOLE ASS Reality is more hair line cracks then border walls! One good shove? It'll cave in. Killing every soul inside.
The Cleaners are ALREADY circling.
It needs to be patched. Immediately. But that's not something normal ghosts can DO. The Zone won't LISTEN to us. Nor allocate the energy for it. The Concepts of Healing? We can't even FIND them.
We need help.
Please help them, King Phantom. You're the only one who CAN.
@hdgnj @babbling-babull @hypewinter @ailithnight @mutable-manifestation @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter
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can I request a fic for Dimitri (if you write for three houses) where his gf goes missing during the timeskip and he reunites with her, thinking she died? and if this is okay, she loves to sing? thank you! I love your writing btw-
👑 king again // dimitri
dimitri's nightmares often caused him to wake in the dead of night, jolting up in a cold sweat after memories of the tragedy of duscur stabbed his heart again. whenever he dreamt of the fiery remains of his loved ones and the carnage of it all, it felt as if his ribcage was being torn open and his throat was closing up. everything felt all too real.
his one solace in the night was his beloved's dorm down the hall. when dimitri was tormented with nightmares, all he had to do was knock and he'd be enveloped in her arms. when she sang him to sleep, stroking his hair and peppering kisses on his tearstained face, it felt easier to breathe. it wasn't unbearable anymore, all thanks to her. all thanks to y/n.
she never made it back to the class reunion.
her disappearance was another wound left to fester on top of a million scars from his past, another life needlessly cast away to the abyss all because of the empire. he never spoke about you but everyone knew that he longed for you, that he was suffocating without you. on the outside he was a redeemed leader eager to save his kingdom, but on the inside... he was still the trembling teenager that yearned to lay with you and hear that everything was going to be okay from your lips. you were nothing but a memory now, and dimitri couldn't handle that.
*
thunder clapped over the garreg mach monastery, the kingdom army sleeping tight after a long and gruelling battle. dimitri took refuge in the fact there were zero casualties and everyone was safe in their beds, but that wasn't enough to lull him to sleep. his thoughts were still lingering on you, how you'd be faring if you were still alive. he wondered if you'd still love the monster he saw when he looked in the mirror.
"sir," a guard's voice broke the silence and dimitri snapped around, visibly agitated that his mourning was interrupted. "we found a young girl sneaking around the monastery, claiming she was looking for a dimitri. we have reason to believe she's an assassin. would you care to interrogate her?"
"wouldn't i love to deal with her," dimitri's entire aura darkened and he motioned for the guard to lead the way. while he was in a much better state of mind, he would show zero mercy to a petty assassin who tried to kill his friends in their sleep. he hadn't even seen them and he already lusted for their blood.
the guard lead him to an empty dormitory, previously belonging to a black eagles student, where the girl lay restrained. through the doorway, he could hear her singing.
it couldn't be.
"rid of the monsters inside your head, put all your thoughts to bed," she sang in the most beautiful voice he had ever heard. it was scratchy and clearly strained, but he'd recognize that voice anywhere. the voice of the girl who always sang during stressful situations. the songstress who stole his heart many years ago.
it was you.
there was no way in the most fiery pits of hell that you would ever side against the kingdom. this had to be a mistake.
he burst open in the door and your singing abruptly stopped - no, y/n, i want to hear you sing, please don't stop, i need to hear you - as you shrieked.
it was you.
it was you, it was you, it was you.
beaten, scarred, burnt, aged, starving, but you. you. you.
"dimitri... the empire, they... i just escaped..." the shackles on your ankles... they had imprisoned you. you were bordering on the edge of consciousness.
dimitri fell to his knees the moment he laid eyes upon you. he thought you were dead, he thought you were a traitor, but you were alive. you were breathing, right in front of him, you were with him. and you were going to be with him forever.
you sat up and stretched your hand out to cup his cheek. he leaned into your touch, his cheeks soaking wet from the tears that didn't hesitate to fall. you had once again saved him from a nightmare. you were finally home.
"my beloved... please, sing for me," his voice hitched in his throat, and you nodded. with tears streaming down your cheeks, you nodded again and again. you took one last breath before fainting in front of your future husband.
"you can be king again..."
#dimitri imagine#dimitri alexandre blaiddyd#dimitri x reader#three houses#fire emblem x reader#fire emblem imagine#three houses imagines#dimitri alexandre blaiddyd x reader
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Reddit gf leaves dead bedroom
Going to write this while it’s still etched in my mind, just gonna be straight up honest here. I’m writing this for masturbation material so it’s gonna be pretty explicit. Fair warning, this is long.
Small bit of context. Boyfriend has low test levels. Refused for nearly 5 years to change it, I haven’t had an orgasm in two years and after getting desperate I asked if I could see other men. Matched with this guy on bumble and met up with him a few times, got a small crush on him and I wanted him to have sex with me badly so as soon as we swapped STD test results we went for it. In short.
It was incredible. Like it was one of the best experiences I’ve ever had and by far my best sexual experience.
Before getting into this I talked to the bumble guy and told him my situation so he’s aware, he told me tonight he knows I’ve only had sex with one man and I’m in a serious relationship etc and if I want to back out or just watch a movie we can do that. I said no, I was determined to follow through. I was actually a little offended that he was talking to me like I was innocent so I began to feel up his crotch and I straddled him.
We went at it for a few minutes before he put his hands on my ass and picked me up, taking me in his arms and walking me to the bedroom. I loved it, I felt like a princess as he held me, it was borderline romantic. He put me down on the bed and began to stroke my thighs as we made out further, it wasn’t long until we were both wearing nothing but our underwear. He ran his fingers gently over my boobs and grinned, I pushed his hands off playfully and told him to take his pants off. He was quick to comply.
Now I’d seen photos of his dick before but seeing it in person was something else, it was very, VERY intimidating to say the least. He said he’s a bit over 8 inches and that’s certainly believable, his thickness was what scared me the most, he was almost as thick as my wrist. He looked at me quizzically so I quickly took my bra off and crawled over the mattress towards him. Hopefully I didn’t appear to be too awkward as I started to jack him off, my boyfriend is about 5 inches so that’s what I’m primarily used to and working with a penis this size was a real process. This guy was also uncut so that was another new toolset I had to work with.
I put my mouth over his dick and slowly began to blow him. I don’t think I did a great job as I was out of practice, nervous and I wasn’t used to deal with one that thick but he seemed to enjoy himself regardless. I couldn’t get it very far down but I kept flicking my tongue on the tip while slowly moving up and down until I had about half of it in my mouth and judging by his moans, it was much appreciated.
After about 5 minutes of that he put his hands on my face, kissed me and moved my body so I was on my back looking up at him. He looked at me questioningly and I nodded as he began to pull my panties down my legs and removed them from my body. He smiled at me reassuringly before gently slipping a finger inside me, by this point I was very wet and knew I could take more so I told him as much. He put two fingers in then three, he started to move his fingers around and I just weakly smiled and closed my eyes as I took in the feeling. He continued with that for a few minutes, stretching me out with his finger to prepare me. After a while I heard him open a plastic container, he began to coat his hands in lube. The aching feeling I had when I felt the coldness of the lube on his fingers enter me was indescribable, my mouth was actually watering as he worked away to coat my insides with it. Once he pulled his hands from me and began to apply lube to himself, that’s when I really started to get nervous, the reality of the situation finally hitting me. I was about to let a man I’d known for a few weeks fuck me. I was honestly pretty tempted to back down but I couldn’t find the words, I stayed quiet and he got back on the bed and positioned himself over me. I brushed my thoughts aside and began to make out with him again.
As we were kissing I began to feel tugging feeling on my clit, his hands were still all over my hips feeling me up so I realised that had to be his dick pressed against my crotch. It felt so wrong but so good too, I felt like I was doing something wrong and it was a huge turn on.
After a few minutes of kissing and groping he pulled away, I smiled and shakily said I was ready. He kissed me softly once more before putting a hand on his penis and pushing it inside me. I don’t know why but I shivered slightly when he entered me, I wasn’t cold at all but it just happened. He started slow, barely putting the tip in to gauge how I’d react, I smiled and he pushed a bit more before stopping, after that I lost patience, wrapped my hands round his neck and pulled his face to mine, driving his dick into me in the process. He pushed a little more and I felt my vagina stretch to accommodate him, he was fully in, as far as he could go. I had a mini panic attack and took several deep breaths as I adjusted. Having him in me was quite the experience. It was... tight, not painful thankfully but very tight. I panicked a little but he pressed a hand gently over my mouth before I could say anything and told me just to be still for a couple of minutes. We did that and it was surprisingly intimate. We didn’t kiss, we just looked each other in the eye as his dick sat motionless inside me.
After what felt like forever but was probably only a few minutes he looked at me with a cute little smile and asked me if I was okay, I sorta nodded and he asked me again more assertively and I told him I was. He called me a “good girl” which drove me nuts for some reasons, he began to slowly move out, the head of his penis stopped right at the entrance to my vagina, we smirked at each other for a moment before he pushed himself back inside me with a sigh.
As he thrusted into me gently I stretched my arm down the length of our bodies and began to softly stroke his balls as he began to pick up the pace, it felt incredible. Before long I lost my focus and just gave into the moment, wrapping my legs around him as I did my best to just hold on. I’m pretty awkward with noises so I usually try and stay quiet beyond some soft moaning but with this I was pretty much panting as he worked on me. It felt incredible. I enjoy sex but I’m usually more of an oral kinda girl but this was just so much better. I don’t know if it was due to his size or the length of time since I’d last gotten laid but I felt everything so much more here. It was quite literally orgasmic.
He also kept deliberately making his dick twitch while it was in me and oh my god it feels so good, it’s only a minor physical sensation but there was something so nice about it that just sets me off and really gets me going.
Now as I said, I’m not much of a moaner but the warmth, sensation and the moment got to me. I wasn’t conscious, not really, I was just there as he was laying into me. I made noises I never knew I could make without trying to make them. I think I even giggled at one point, there wasn’t anything funny going on I was just so high on emotions and lost control of my inhibitions and let loose.
Soon enough I felt a warmth began to fester in my feet before working its way up my legs, I giggled slightly and shivered again as I had my first orgasm of the night. It was lovely, in that moment I felt so close to him and honestly it’s the happiest I’ve felt in a good while, it was very liberating to just be there with another person so close to me and feel that good.
The emotions definitely were there as I actually started to cry after cumming. I think it was a mixture of pleasure and feeling overwhelmed. I’d never kissed another man let alone this and I felt guilty that had just orgasmed to another man thrusting inside me. I kept thinking about my boyfriend and how he would feel if he knew about this, I know I had his permission but still it was a lot to process. I’d always assumed we’d be happily married by now, not him being at home and me being in a strange man’s bed. Life’s weird. The worst part was as guilty as I felt my priority was still what I had in front of me and the event at hand, I’d come here for sex and that’s what I needed.
He told me we could stop if I wanted to but I just shook my head and asked him if we could please continue. He wiped some tears from my cheek and started to kiss me passionately, cuddling me as he pressed his weight onto me, pushing me down into the mattress. I just pressed my face to his neck and closed my eyes as I felt his dick begin to move about inside of me once more. What followed next was the longest orgasm I’ve ever experienced. I don’t know how long it was exactly but it was damn close to 10 minutes of fairly consistent pleasure. It was honestly so good I thought I might faint. It was blissful.
Before long my sighs were met with his, his pace intensified and lost its tempo as he got more wild and he began to pretty much thrash about inside me, he was literally pounding me me so hard he had to hold my shoulders to stop me from hitting my head against the backboard. He growled slightly in my ear as he came inside me, it felt great. His cock kept twitching uncontrollably and I fucking loved it. To me having a guy cum inside you is one of the highest praises you can get.
Afterwards he went out to pick us up some food, when he got back we ate and chatted before deciding to go for another round. This time I rode him on the couch until we both came. I’m no longer intimidated by his size, I definitely couldn’t take it without being warmed up but I now know I can take it and at quite a pace. I’m actually quite proud of myself for taking such a big dick without much struggle, definitely underestimated myself on that front.
It’s been a few hours since our last session and surprisingly, I’m not too sore, there wasn’t any blood and other than a little discomfort early on I was fine. I have quite a deep vagina and I practised with toys around his size beforehand so I was pretty well prepared for it. He’s asleep right now and I’m just in his bed watching Netflix with subtitles on, hopefully we can go another round or two in the morning before I go home.
This has definitely been a fun short term things and I definitely plan on doing this again. Long term I really don’t know what I want, I just know I can’t stay in a sexless relationship anymore. I talked with this guy about all of this and he’s obviously willing to fuck me as much as I want him too so I can at least get laid but the reality is I’m not happy in my relationship. I thought I was but I’m just not. I love my boyfriend so much but just from doing this I developed a connection with this guy that I haven’t had with my boyfriend in literal years. He’s not willing to put in any effort for our sex life so it’s just become my sex life and I have to do what I need to do.
Anyway, that’s my confession I guess Feel free to PM me if you want to chat! Just don’t be too weird please.
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Ranking my favorite characters of each of my favorite animes / mangas
For the record: I don't own any of the following artworks bellow. All the credit go for their own original artists
Top 10: Olivier Mira Armstrong (Fullmetal Alchemist)
Olivier Mira Armstrong (オリヴィエ・ミラ・アームストロング, Orivie Mira Āmusutorongu), also known as Major General Armstrong is the primary heir to the illustrious Armstrong family, the commanding officer charged with the protection of Amestris' northern border at Fort Briggs and the older sister of Alex Louis Armstrong. Olivier is a severe woman who has a fearsome and commanding presence where she is harsh with her subordinates and peers and coldly merciless to her enemies, the deceptively beautiful woman's schadenfreude has earned her the nickname "Ice Queen" among the Briggs soldiers. Sharp-tongued and highly combative, Olivier is no stranger to furious chastisements and bursts of fiery violence, especially toward those who fail to live up to her high standards and staunch adherence to the "survival of the fittest" philosophy.
Top 9: Mikasa Ackerman (Attack On Titan)
Mikasa Ackerman (ミカサ・アッカーマン Mikasa Akkāman) is the adoptive sister of Eren Yeager and one of the two deuteragonists of the series, along with Armin Arlert.
After her biological parents were murdered by human traffickers, Mikasa was rescued by Eren Yeager and lived with him and his parents, Grisha and Carla, before the fall of Wall Maria. Though she desires only to live a peaceful life, Mikasa entered into the military—where she is considered the best soldier among the 104th Training Corps. She later enlists in the Survey Corps to follow and protect Eren, becoming one of its greatest assets. She is currently serving as an officer (上官 Jōkan) in the Corps. Mikasa cares deeply for her friends and caretakers, seeing them as the last remnants of a family she cannot afford to lose. Mikasa also appears to have a soft spot for children, and she has a strong sense of right and wrong, doing everything she can to make her most impulsive friends to follow what she thinks is the right track. Despite that, she knows well that she cannot always sway them in decisions and makes it a point to follow them whenever they go, just so that she can be around to help out when trouble arises.
Top 8: Kamina (Gurren Lagann)
Kamina (カミナ, Kamina) was a young man from Jeeha Village, the founder and first leader of Team Gurren and deuteragonist of the first arc of Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann. At first glance, Kamina is boisterous, hotheaded and arrogant. He demands recognition and seems hungry for greatness, illustrated in his tendency to call himself "the Mighty Kamina" and his signature catchphrase, "Just who the Hell do you think I am?!" He is an undeterred idealist, often to the point of ignorance; Yoko has described him as "a man of unlimited stupidity." Kamina is also very perverted, declaring that the urge to stare at beautiful women is the definition of a man.
However, Kamina is also extremely determined and never lets anything keep him down for long. Even discovering that his father was dead only made him solemn for a night or two (visibly at least). He is also devoted to defending and supporting his friends and loved ones, fighting with all his strength to protect them. In turn, he is very charismatic in the heat of battle, able to inspire even the timid Simon to accomplish great feats and almost single-handedly set the foundations for Team Dai-Gurren.
Despite his often brazen and practically insane actions, Kamina is fairly insightful, as his bombast and seemingly blind confidence usually mask his true intelligence in planning and combat. He even personally admits that his bravado and fearlessness is mostly a device he uses to hide his own worries and to support others, and that he thinks people like Simon are the real heroes.
Top 7: Sebas Tian (Overlord)
Sebas Tian (セバス・チャン), alas "The Iron Butler", is the head butler of the Great Tomb of Nazarick with several manservants and other butlers under his command. He was created by Touch Me. He is also the leader of the Pleiades Six Stars.
Although he is not one of the Floor Guardians, his power closely rivals theirs. In a way, he is independent of their chain of command. He originally served as Nazarick's last line of defense alongside the Pleiades on the 9th Floor, to give time for the guild, Ainz Ooal Gown, to prepare for their final stand in the Throne Room. Like his creator, Touch Me, Sebas Tian has a great deal of personal justice. Unlike many other denizens in Nazarick, he does not completely despise humans or see them as inferior creatures. Instead, he believes that some humans are good people and it is the duty of the strong to protect the weak. However, humans with an ugly nature disgust him and he will not hesitate to kill anyone who dares to oppose Nazarick. Sebas has a stoic nature, but also tends to question his own actions whether it was right or wrong of him to do them contrary to his master's order. Not sure why he does it, Sebas does believe that Touch Me's will is what encouragingly motivates him to act the way he does and that it conflicts with the will of his current master.
Top 6: Brago (Gash Bell)
Brago (ブラゴ, Burago), alongside his partner and bookkeeper Sherry Belmont, are considered the rivals of the main characters Zatch Bell and Kiyo Takamine, even though the teams fought a relatively small amount of times. Since their first appearance, they were one of the most powerful teams in the series, and have been seen burning more spellbooks than any other one. Brago is very quiet and is rarely seen socializing with other mamodos, he is often described as being "strong and cool". He is often seen crossing his arms or sticking them in his pockets. Not much is revealed about his life or personality, other than he resents weakness and especially requiring a human's help to win the demon kingship. However, despite often complaining that Sherry is too weak to help him, he thanks her for all that she has done for him in the final battle. He is extremely strong, often defeating other mamodo teams without even requiring the use of spells; because of his strength, which was gained from undergoing special elite training, many mamodo have come to fear him as one of the strongest. Brago's specialty is Gravity Magic.
Top 5: Guts (Berserk)
Guts (ガッツ Gattsu) , renowned as the "Black Swordsman", is a former mercenary and branded wanderer who travels the world in a constant internal struggle between pursuing his own ends and protecting those dear to him.
At one time driven solely by his will to survive, Guts finds purpose in life upon joining the Band of the Falcon, greatly helping in the faction's storied successes during the Hundred-Year War as captain of the band's raiders. He eventually becomes dissatisfied with clinging on to Griffith's dream, and departs from the band in pursuit of his own. Following the horrors of the Eclipse prompted by Griffith, Guts embarks on a two-year war against the God Hand and apostles, becoming increasingly embittered on his one-track quest for retribution. He in time realizes protecting his regressed lover is more important to him, as well as something he cannot do alone, and thus seemingly abandons his quest for revenge while fostering camaraderie with his new companions. Known for his air of austerity, Guts is a gruff, cynical man holding an overall bleak outlook on life. This is a consequence of enduring waves of suffering and numerous betrayals since his youth, with nearly all highlights of his life having, in time, become lows. In spite of his guarded, brooding exterior, he shows a more easygoing, compassionate side around the people he trusts, appearing markedly less unsociable and distant, though still retaining his dry candidness. Even as his inner darkness festers deep within him and its temptation becomes increasingly harder to resist, he retains his empathy and compassion, refusing to completely discard his humanity.
Top 4: Akemi Homura (Puella Magi Madoka Magica)
Homura Akemi (暁美 ほむら Akemi Homura) is one of the main characters in the Puella Magi Madoka Magica series. Ever since her arrival at Mitakihara Middle School, Homura is immediately depicted as being very intelligent, athletic, distant, and cold. It is revealed in episode four that she is only like this because she has seen so much suffering during her tenure as a magical girl. Because of this, she does not want Madoka Kaname to become a magical girl and tries to do anything in order to stop her from making a wish with Kyubey, going as far as to attempt to injure and even kill the cat-like creature. Despite her cold attitude towards others, she still very much cares for Madoka, as it is her sole objective to protect her due to the countless amount of blood, sweat, and tears she has shed over her jumps in time. Despite being regarded as emotionless by Sayaka Miki, Homura is far from it. Although she does not easily show signs of remorse, sadness, or pity, it is only because she had grown used to the suffering around her, and must put up a strong front to continue fighting for her goal. Homura herself has stated that she always feels badly with each life she's unable to save or alter, but nevertheless, it does not slow her down from staying true to her main objective in saving Madoka Kaname.
Top 3: Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez (Bleach)
Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez (グリムジョー・ジャガージャック, Gurimujō Jagājakku) is an Arrancar and was the Sexta (6th) Espada in Sōsuke Aizen's affiliated army. While appearing to be a laid-back individual, Grimmjow possesses a brutal, impulsive, and excessively violent personality alongside a lethally short temper. However, despite his aggression and obvious blood lust in battle, Grimmjow possesses a feral cunning and has a knack for quickly exploiting any opening his opponent reveals. In addition, he is blunt, sarcastic and quite sadistic, revealing a psychotic grin or laughing maniacally whenever he becomes excited. He is also very rude and quite disrespectful. Grimmjow uses none of the honorifics in the Japanese language, except when addressing Aizen (though he is quick to discard the formality when Aizen is not around), and refers to Orihime Inoue as woman in conversation. Grimmjow displays little respect for authority and says whatever is on his mind, regardless of whether or not it is appropriate. However, he does have some form of a code of honor, as he is unwilling to fight an injured Ichigo, bringing Orihime to heal him beforehand so that their battle will be a fair one, though he also wants to defeat Ichigo when he is at full strength.He also saves Orihime from Loly Aivirrne and Menoly Mallia, who were beating her up, to repay the debt of restoring his arm, though he immediately demands another favor afterwards.
Top 2: Kujo Jotaro (JoJo's Bizarre Adventure)
Jotaro Kujo (空条 承太郎 , Kūjō Jōtarō) is the protagonist of Part 3 and also appears in Parts 4-6. Jotaro is the third and most recurring JoJo of the JoJo's Bizarre Adventure series.
Jotaro is a delinquent who lives an ordinary life until the Joestar Family's old enemy, DIO, returns. Jotaro travels to Egypt in order to save his mother and stop the Vampire once and for all.
Wielding the incredibly powerful Star Platinum, Jotaro is the first JoJo introduced with a Stand, and is among the most well-known characters of the series. Jotaro is introduced as a rough delinquent, but he has a gentle heart, and is loyal to those he likes. He is highly perceptive, intelligent and quick-witted while keeping a perpetually cool, slightly neutral or disinterested attitude. Jotaro's most noticeable trait is his seemingly aloof nature. He is a quiet individual, often satisfied with expressing himself in short phrases. While he was shown to be mildly anxious when something unanticipated happens, Jotaro almost never goes as far as to lose his cool.
Top 1: Charlotte Katakuri (One Piece)
Charlotte Katakuri ( シャーロット・カタクリ , Shārotto Katakuri) is the second son and third child of the Charlotte Family and the elder triplet brother of Daifuku and Oven. He is also one of the Three Sweet Commanders of the Big Mom Pirates and serves as Totto Land's Minister of Flour (粉大臣, Kona Daijin), governing over Komugi Island.
Due to his actions and role, he is the secondary antagonist in the second half of the Whole Cake Island Arc. Katakuri has a very serious, no-nonsense demeanor, caring greatly about his crew and family's objectives. With his heightened Kenbunshoku Haki allowing him to see a little bit into the future and make smart judgement calls, he is dedicated to efficiently dealing with all possible threats within his vicinity, and is thus among the few Charlotte children that can be seen taking action without instructions from Big Mom herself. Katakuri is a pragmatic individual who puts efficiency above almost everything else, to the point of being considered a perfectionist. He rarely brags about his abilities, instead being rather focused on accomplishing his goals as fast as possible, intercepting and defeating his enemies in a quick, effective manner while prioritizing the elimination of threats he perceives as potentially serious, going as far as taking extra steps to ensure they are stopped in case his mother and siblings fail to do so. He is also capable of extreme brutality as shown when he pondered on how he should maim Luffy with his trident. Though ruthless to opponents, he is extremely caring towards his family and subordinates. Katakuri is also a honorable man who dislikes other people interfering with his fights. Though he considers Luffy his enemy and desires to eliminate him personally before he can become a threat, he wishes to defeat him fairly. After discovering that Flampe was the one attacking Luffy and lowering his performance in the fight, Katakuri injured himself in the same spot he injured Luffy to compensate and angrily shouted at Flampe for interfering in his fight.
#anime#fanart#Charlotte Katakuri#Grimmjow Jaegarjaquez#Kujo Jotaro#Akemi Homura#Guts Berserk#Brago#Sebas Tian#Kamina#Mikasa Ackerman#Olivier Mira Armstrong#One Piece#Bleach#Jojo's Bizarre Adventure#Puella Magi Madoka Magica#Berserk#Berserk Manga#Zatch Bell#Gash Bell#Konjiki No Gash Bell#Overlord#Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann#Gurren Lagann#Attack On Titan#Shingeki No Kyojin#Fullmetal Alchemist#Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood
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The Blue Plate Diner - Chapter Two
@jewels2876 @moonbeambucky @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @iammarylastar@captstefanbrandt @badassbaker @pinknerdpanda @oliviastan17 @mizzzpink
I know I’m forgetting people, sorry. If you want in, hit me.
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Rating: M
Warnings: Language, general nuttiness, smut, major angst, drama
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FEEDBACK IS LIFE, Y’ALL!
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Years after leaving, Bucky returns to his hometown a successful lawyer, there only to clean up his recently deceased mother’s affairs, but hoping despite himself to see her again; Levka Riel, the girl he wanted all through high school and could never have. But their parting was anything but sweet and old wounds have festered for years in the shadows. Even if the truths in their past are revealed, has it been too long to repair the damage?
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** I feel the need to clarify, in case there’s any confusion as to how Bucky and Lev could honestly have had NO contact in almost a decade... this story takes place before cell phones were the extension of our hands that they are today, before the Book of Faces and social media ruled all, when it truly possible to leave a town and not be kept updated on old school-mates and neighbors and the only way to contact most people was by landline or the postal system.**
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BTW, this upcoming chapter is a doozy. Lots of shit gets exposed, heaps of steaming lies and truths and rattling skeletons in closets. This chapter exhausted me and that’s why I ended it where I do, I couldn’t take any more and needed a break.... Enjoy.
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Seven years later, and she was staring at him in her diner like he was a ghost and going out of her way to avoid him in their small, small town.
And not once had she answered the letters he’d sent her, the ones begging for her forgiveness, begging for another chance.
Bucky needed to get out, the house was suffocating with only his thoughts for comfort and he decided to grab a few groceries, not that he was planning on staying much longer but dining at The Blue Plate was hit or miss; if Lev was there, she either left or traded tables with Hattie, leaving the old woman to serve him, the only thing sharper than her mind being her acid tongue, as Bucky’s presence meant disruption and he was tired of that disappointment; Lev smiling and happy, joking and laughing with regulars only to see her face fall when she saw him, regardless of how nonthreatening he tried to be.
Old time country music wheezed through scratchy speakers as Bucky entered the main grocery store in town. It was sadly out of date to his eyes, the old turnstile checkouts, the floor faded and scuffed with thousands, perhaps millions of footsteps over the years. But it was well-lit and clean, the selection not entirely lacking, and Bucky busied himself trekking slowly up and down the aisles, finding old brands he hadn’t seen since he was a child, somehow still magically in business and apparently only supplying mom and pop locations. There was not an ‘organic’ sticker in sight and Bucky was humbled by the produce section, small and tidy, lacking any of the vast variety he’d come to expect at the supermarkets he frequented back home.
Turning from jams and jellies into the soup aisle, he stumbled to a stop, eyes wide and disbelieving.
“Lev?”
Lev lifted her head from the can she was studying, alarm already rising in her eyes. She glanced over her shoulder at something before finally choking out a strangled, “James, hi.”
How he wished she would call him something else, ‘James’ was obviously meant to keep distance between them, distance he ached to close.
Fumbling for more, Bucky said the first thing to come into his head. “Chicken noodle? I remember eating that every night I was home alone after school.”
“Didn’t your mother cook for you?” The implication that Doris Barnes would never serve something so common as canned soup hung in the air and Bucky wondered, for the umpteenth time, why Lev was so bitter about the old, dead woman.
“Not when she was working double-shifts.” Bucky answered. In truth, much of his adolescence was spent caring for himself, his mother working her hands to the bone to keep their household afloat.
“Oh.” she began, a faint flush beginning to color her cheeks. “I-”
“Mom? Can we get mushroom too?” A new voice interrupted, a child’s voice and Lev inhaled sharply, head snapping to the side.
Bucky’s gaze fell on a young girl, maybe six or seven. A battered ball-cap covered her head and both knees were missing in her jeans, a series of band-aids adorning her fingers.
When nobody spoke, the girl offered a tentative smile. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Bucky breathed, staring down at her, entranced. Although he’d suspected Lev and Steve would have started a family, he’d not known for sure.
“We have to go.” Lev announced abruptly.
“What’s your name?” Bucky asked, extending his hand, which only seemed to ratchet up Lev’s anxiety.
“Meadow, what’s yours?” She replied, grasping his hand, and giving it a shake.
“Meadow, that’s beautiful. I’m Bucky.”
Lev reached for Meadow’s other hand, pulling the child away from Bucky’s reach. “C’mon, Med. We have to go.”
“Say hi to Steve for me,” Bucky continued; realizing in this moment that he needed to give up and drop the torch he’d carried for so long, the proof was literally standing right in front of him. “I always figured you two would settle down together, he’s a lucky guy.” The words cut his throat, burned his tongue as they passed.
Lev recoiled like he’d slapped her, eyes wide then narrowing with unexplained fury. “You bastard.” She hissed roughly and, before Bucky could ask what the problem was, he’d just complimented her for Christ’s sake, Lev took a step forwards and hit him, slapping his cheek hard enough to sting.
“Fuck you.” She growled, so low Meadow probably couldn’t hear then whirled away, dragging her daughter behind her.
WHAT THE HELL HAD JUST HAPPENED?
Bucky touched his cheek, quite literally struck dumb and tried to sort out what he’d said that had been so horrible.
He was still puzzling it out when he approached the checkout and laid his chosen goods on the turnstile. The cashier was one he recognized from years ago, now greyer and with thicker glasses. She eyed him, unimpressed.
“That you that upset Levi Riel? What did you say? She lit outta here like the devil was after her.”
Great. Not only had he hurt Lev somehow, but everyone had seen it too.
“Nothing, I just congratulated her on her family, told her Steve’s a lucky man.”
The woman sucked in a breath, shaking her head as she started ringing through his groceries.
“What? They were together all through high school, I just assumed-”
“Steve Rogers is dead.” The woman replied bluntly, eyeing him again. “Ain’t you Doris’ boy, weren’t you best friends with him, didn’t you know he’s gone?”
Bucky staggered, feeling like the woman had just kicked him in the chest. No, he’d not heard that Steve was dead and no one, his mother included, had seemed to care enough to tell him. “No… what happened?”
The woman’s face softened slightly. “Well, you’ve been away.” And you’ve never bothered to come back and visit your mama until after she died, her eyes reproached. “The Rogers boy was killed ‘bout four, maybe five, years ago, hit by some looky-loo out on Route 4. He was helping pull some woman outta the ditch and got crushed against his own tow-truck, peeled him open like cheese on a cheese grater I heard.” She shook her head sadly. “Hit the girl hard, young as she was with that baby to take care of all alone. Damn shame.”
Bucky was silent through the rest of the checkout, his mind jumbled and tangling on itself. Steve had been his best friend and he’d not known the man was dead. Sure, they hadn’t talked since that last time Bucky had come home, nearer to eight years ago now, but he’d loved the man like a brother, even as he’d hated him. Any amount could have been on the credit card carbon he signed, he barely looked at it as he passed it back to the woman, barely remembered the drive back to his mother’s.
No longer hungry, he put the food away and walked upstairs into his old room, sitting down on the bed and pulled an old picture frame off the bedside table. Faded and crinkled, he nevertheless could see it clearly.
He and Steve, thirteen, perhaps fourteen, arms slung over each other’s shoulders, grinning ear to ear after winning their baseball league’s championship game.
Brothers in everyway but blood.
But no more.
The tears came hot and fast and, for a time, Bucky let them take over.
Later, throat raw and eyes burning, Bucky stood and stormed into his mother’s room, began to tear through the drawers.
There had to be something, somewhere, something that showed his mother hadn’t completely forsaken him; a newspaper clipping, the funeral service leaflet, anything to show that the old woman had in some way acknowledged the boy who’d called her his ‘other mother’, even if she hadn’t bothered to inform her real son of his best friend’s passing.
He turned to the closet and ripped the doors open, pushed the hangers from one side to the other, the metal screeching and groaning before reaching for the shelf above, knocking a few hatboxes askew and blankets to the floor before his hands closed on a shoebox with some weight to it.
Frowning, he pulled it down and flipped off the lid, stared inside at the contents for a moment unable to process what he was seeing.
A stack of letters, all opened. The top one was addressed to him, the name on the return address taking what was left of his breath and sanity away.
Levka Riel
With shaking hands, he pulled the stack out, setting each one back down onto his lap as he read their addresses.
James Barnes
Levka Riel
Levka Riel
James Barnes
There were over a dozen letters in front of him, all opened, all read, all addressed to either him or Lev. He hadn’t been sure of Lev’s address, she’d moved since graduation and he wasn’t home long enough that one time to learn it, so he’d mailed all her envelopes to his mother with a note requesting she pass them along. He assumed the same was true for Lev, that she too, not knowing Bucky’s dorm address, had entrusted his mother to send on her letter to him.
And she’d done neither.
Bucky set the box and letters aside, scrambling to his feet and into the bathroom, spewing the contents of his stomach into the toilet, retching until he saw stars, until long after his stomach was empty, and he was just spitting weakly.
WHY??
WHY HAD HIS MOTHER NOT GIVEN HIM LEV’S LETTERS?? WHY HAD SHE HELD BACK THE ONES FOR HIM??
WHY HAD SHE ALWAYS SAID NO, EVEN WHEN HE’D ASKED IF SHE’D HEARD ANYTHING FROM HER, IF LEV HAD ANSWERED HIM?
Oh god, what had he missed??
Breathing raggedly, a deep, heavy sense of dread clawing in his belly, he returned to the bedroom and gathered the letters, collapsing to sit on the bed. He chose the most dated, the one wrote perhaps a month, maybe six weeks after he’d left that last time.
Bucky,
I’m sorry for all the horrible things I said to you that morning, I’m so sorry for the way we left off.
I’m sorry it’s taken so long for me to write this letter, but I want you to know, you deserve to know.
I’m pregnant and I know it’s yours.
Steve and I always used protection; that night at the party, you and I didn’t.
I’m scared, Bucky. I’m not ready to be a mother but I can’t bring myself to even consider getting rid of it.
Please write me back as soon as you get this, I don’t expect you to drop everything and become a father, but I need to know what you want and that you’ll help in some way.
Lev
His heart cracked with an audible noise and, while he thought he’d used up all his tears earlier crying over Steve, a fresh wave came, burning hot trails down his cheeks. Hands trembling, he opened the next one she’d sent.
Bucky,
I haven’t heard from you yet and your mother swears she sent my letter to you.
I’ve told Steve and he knows he’s not the father, but he’s offering to help me with whatever money he can get, but you know as well as I that jobs in this town aren’t great, isn’t that why you left?
I need to know what you want. Do you want to be in your baby’s life?
Are you mad at me? This was an accident, but it makes me sick to think about terminating it.
Please write me, I’ll give you my phone number as soon as I can afford to get a line hooked up.
Lev
It continued, each letter, each word slicing deep.
James,
Why won’t you answer me?
I heard her heartbeat yesterday at my doctor’s appointment.
That’s right, it’s a girl.
I’m keeping her and I still hope you’ll want to be in your daughter’s life.
Lev
P.S. – My phone is finally hooked up; my number is 977-541-0201. Please call me.
Until the last letter, the one that truly broke the remainder of his heart.
James,
She’s here.
I’ve named her Meadow Grace Riel.
Your silence is answer enough. I get it, you want nothing to do with the child you helped create.
I just wanted you to know that she’s here and she’s safe.
I won’t bother you again.
Lev
The letters fell to the bed and he dropped his head into his hands with a sob. He cried so hard he could hardly breathe, until his lungs burned in his chest and what air he managed to get rasped in his throat.
I’ve named her Meadow Grace.
Meadow.
He’d met his daughter today and not known.
It all made sense now, the fearful and angry looks from Lev. The way she’d tensed in the grocery store when their daughter approached him. The way she’d looked so hurt, so betrayed and broken when he’d implied that Steve must be so proud of his family. Like he couldn’t even be bothered to acknowledge his own child, like their past had never happened.
What could she be thinking now? How cruel and heartless, how much of an asshole did she think he was?
His fingers brushed over his letters, the ones he’d written to Lev. After he’d gotten over his hurt, his wounded heart at their parting, he’d written to her, apologizing, and asking for another chance. He’d tried again and again, varying the words but keeping the message.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me.
His mother had read these, read his contrition and kept them to herself.
She’d known about Meadow, she’d known about Lev being pregnant, and she’d done nothing!
Except lie to him when he asked if Lev had tried to contact him.
What sort of monster had raised him?? What possible excuse could she have had??
What hell had she put them both through? Had she spoken to Lev, acknowledged her granddaughter in any way? Helped even though she’d kept him in the dark?
He couldn’t think about that now, he’d go crazy if he did.
He needed to see Lev, to try and explain what he was still too stunned to believe but held so concretely in his hands.
Half-falling down the stairs, he stumbled into the kitchen and reached for the local phone book; flipping in open and scanning the pages madly.
He would have done this far sooner if he hadn’t been sure of Lev simply slamming the door in his face, but he needed to see her now, to explain what he’d just found and beg for another chance, even if this hadn’t been his fault, even though he was just as much a victim of his mother’s cruelty as Lev and her…. their daughter.
The thought brought him up short.
He was a father.
He had a child, a daughter, one whom he’d missed out on everything in her young life.
Fresh rage swept over him, a new tidal wave of fury unlike anything he’d ever experienced before, sharpened by betrayal. His mother was supposed to love him, not hurt him and hide things and then, on top of it all, go off and die before he could learn said truth and confront the old bitch.
Dropping the phone book, he turned and barrelled back upstairs.
It didn’t take long; he took no time to be careful or preserve anything of hers.
Anything personal, pictures and notes, were tossed into the firepit in the backyard and lit ablaze. Anything else of hers, clothes, jewelry and knick-knacks, was thrown carelessly into garbage bags and left at the back gate for Percy and Hank to pick up tomorrow on their weekly garbage day.
The furnishings and other impersonal elements he left as is, controlling his voice long enough to call Duke Hanover and start in motion the process of selling the house and its contents.
He couldn’t stomach the thought of keeping anything of that old witch’s and the problem he’d been struggling with since learning of his mother’s death, what to do with his childhood home, was now solved.
He would take the money; it was all that was worth anything to him anymore.
Next, he gathered his few things, what he’d brought with him and what little he still wanted to keep from his old room, and checked into a hotel, collapsing on the bed, and falling into a deep, exhausted stupor.
He woke the next morning with a scratchy throat and aching muscles; apparently tearing through your childhood home and throwing away everything personal was a physical workout as well as an emotional one.
The horror and dread, sorrow and agony appeared not long after and Bucky lay for a long time, on his back and staring at the ceiling, helpless to stop the memories from slinking back in, coiling their claws around his mind again.
Bucky stirred, feeling the beginnings of a headache. He’d drank enough these last two years of college to recognize a hangover when he had one, and this felt like a doozy. The next thing he felt was pleasantly sore muscles, faint twinges of scratches on his bare skin and he chuckled low in his throat, burrowing his face into the pillow.
He’d gotten lucky last night, as well as shit faced.
The rest of the story hit him then and he remembered just who he’d spent the night with.
Finally.
Levka Riel.
The girl he’d wanted his whole life.
Simple good luck had brought them both to Wayne Templeton’s party last night and Providence had taken over from there. A rush of heat went through him as he remembered, the sounds Lev had made, the way she’d clung to him, the breathless promises, and declarations he’d groaned into her throat as he’d moved inside her. It had been magic last night, the culmination of fate and Bucky’s mind began to run with possibilities.
Lev could move back up with him, they could get an apartment off-campus. She could enroll too and start building a career for herself.
He would do anything for her-
Lev stirred at his side, sighing and stretching. She lifted her head, her hair a tangled mess and peered through it towards him.
“Hey,” Bucky whispered, ready to roll over and pull Lev towards him, snuggle down into the sheets and enjoy this pause from their chaotic lives.
“What the hell?” Lev murmured, head snapping to stare down at the pillow, then at the walls and the tangled sheets around them. She all but leapt off the bed, fighting the sheets that entwined around her struggling limbs.
“Lev?” Bucky sat up, not caring to cover his own nakedness.
Lev’s eyes landed on his cock for a beat and the last mysteries of what had happened fell into place. You did not wake up naked and sore and dripping next to a similarly unclothed man without there having been some action beforehand.
“Oh god.” She whispered, backing away. “What did I do?”
“Lev?” He was staying frustratingly monosyllabic, but his mind was a torpid mess, trying to process what he was seeing and hearing. Shouldn’t she be happy like he was? Hadn’t they just spent the most incredible night together?”
“Get out.” She demanded, holding the sheets up in confused bunches to cover herself.
“What are you talking about?” Bucky stumbled for words, recognizing the shadow of the ghoul around the corner and desperate to fight it off. “We just had a-”
“It was a mistake. We were drunk.”
“NO. It wasn’t a mistake. I love you, Lev. I always have!” He had to lay it all out, make her see.
“You hardly know me! You’re just Steve’s creepy friend! Is that why you were always hanging around, you thought there was something between us?! Steve is my boyfriend, not you!!”
Realization crashed over him like ice water.
She didn’t feel the same way, she never had.
Whatever he’d thought he’d seen in her lingering glances, her tentative smiles had not been reciprocation of his own devotion, but the hesitation of fear and discomfort.
She didn’t love him; she didn’t even like him.
He had been so stupid. So misguided, laughable really.
Rage replaced the cold fingers tickling his spine, turning his blood to fire.
“You fucking slut.” He growled. “’Steve is your boyfriend’? Then why are you sleeping around at a party like a GODDAMN WHORE?”
The fury in his voice made her stop, stare at him with the start of fear in her eyes and it only inflamed Bucky more. Never, ever, would he be angry or out of control enough to hurt Lev, his love for her was too strong, flowed too deep and the way she was eyeing him warily said as clear as day that she didn’t know him at all, she thought he was just as ham-fisted and brutal as the rest of the assholes in this town.
“Fuck you.” He snarled, reaching for the nearest item, a half-full can of beer and throwing it at her. He’d been a hell of a pitcher in his junior baseball league and the can would not hit her because he didn’t want it to, but his anger made sure it hit the wall close to her head, as a warning. “Fuck off, you goddamn piece of trash!”
With a choked sob, Lev stumbled from the room and Bucky, the tremors in his body rapidly morphing from of fury to sorrow, followed not long after.
He’d gone home, holed up in his room until his plane ticket came due, then left this piece of shit town behind.
Until now.
Tears burned hot on his skin and he choked a fresh sob, pulling himself into a sitting position on the hotel bed. You’d think he’d have no tears left after the last few days, but his sorrow and hurt seemed bottomless and Bucky cried until he could hardly breathe, his throat swollen and hindering his air.
He needed to make this right, he had to apologize to Lev. He’d been on his way to doing just that when the rage of his mother’s betrayal had side-tracked him yesterday.
A half-hour later he’d found Lev’s address in the phone-book, managed to choke down some black coffee and was standing in front of a small bungalow, in need of some paint and TLC, Pandora’s shoe-box in his shaking hands.
#bucky#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#au bucky#au bucky barnes#au bucky barnes fanfic#au bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes drama#au bucky drama#bucky and lev#bucky and levi#the blue plate diner
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From the Dead
Undead Robert E.O Speedwagon x female reader
Requested by: @atlantianchronicle
“Gothic horror murder mystery where the one who was mysteriously murdered comes back for vengeance and has to be talked down? You can pick either the reader or phantom blood characters.”
Warnings: angst, fluff
Thank you so much for this request. Please enjoy.
It didn’t feel real. It felt like some twisted nightmare that clawed at her mind, throwing the most horrific scenarios at her to course fear from her. The kind of nightmare where, no matter what you did, you could not force yourself awake from. This was what [Name] felt.
Robert E.O Speedwagon was dead.
He had gone out, telling her that he had some business to conclude and promising her he would be back soon. Speedwagon was a man of his word, he had yet to let her down. When he said he would be there at a specific time, he would be there on the dot. Not a second later. So when he did not return on time, the first seeds of worry began to seep into her.
With each minute ticking by, they only grew, tangling with her bones and nerves, flourishing from the gnawing worry that flowed in her blood. By the time dawn came and there was no sign of Speedwagon, she grabbed her shoes and jacket, going out to search for him. The first place she went was Tattoo’s place, asking if he had seen her lover. The second she asked that, his expression dropped, his eyes unable to look at her. Speedwagon had been found in one of the alleys of Ogre Street, blood pooling around him with four bullet holes in his chest.
The entire world shattered for her. She could not stop the tears the poured from her [Eye colour] eyes, and even when she had no more to shed she still cried. Her eyes stung from them, feeling dry and cracked, each blink hurt. As a result of all this, she just...stopped. Tattoo and Kempo had found her multiple times just sitting curled in the corner of the room, dry sobbing or just staring blankly at nothing. Her self-care had dropped like a lead balloon, she just felt empty. A part of her soul had been ripped away and left a black, cold hole in its place.
They could not blame her, she was grieving and mourning the loss of her lover.
They had carried out a funeral for Speedwagon. Jonathan and Erina had also come to the funeral, Jonathan even helped pay for it.
***
Cold. Everything felt so cold, frost chewing away at his flesh with icicles piercing his chest like knives. He tried to bring his hands to his chest but could barely move, the space around him was tightly confined. Hot white panic flooded his body, melting away the coldness and replacing it. His limbs attempted to thrash about, unable to with the confined space and that added fuel for the panic.
His fingers clawed and scratched at the wood above him, hot panic washed over any pain caused by this. He needed out. He needed to get out! Tears welled in his eyes, pricking in them like thorns but the need to escape this encased prison was enough for him to ignore it.
The wood began to give away from his relentless clawing, allowing him to rip bits off only to come face-to-face with another blockage. Dirt. The hot panic in his body had yet to subside, giving him the drive he needed to claw his way through the dirt, which was much easier than the solid wood. He didn’t care about why he was in there in the first place, all he cared about was getting out.
The amount of dirt seemed almost never ending for him until he pulled a bit back and saw a hole appear, peeking through to the night sky above him. Desperation flooded his body again, clawing frantically at the hole, forcing it wider and dragging himself onto solid ground. The breeze brushed over his face, a wondrous feeling after what he had just endured. Once out fully, he laid there for a moment. The shock of all this sinking in and he did the one thing he could do at that moment.
He screamed.
***
A tired sigh slipped her lips as she made her way towards her lover’s grave, a bouquet of fresh flowers in her hands. It had become her routine now to visit his grave. A way for her to still, in a way, see him every day and talk to him. She reached the gravestone, the cold stone blocking her throat at the sight of it but she bit back her tears. She had to be strong. As she got closer, something was not right with the grave.
The ground had been clawed and ruined, revealing the open and empty coffin beneath the ground. Horror chewed at her. Who would do this? Stealing a body? The tears flowed freely now, the flowers falling from her hands as she cried.
Though, this was cut short when she heard something. It sounded like a voice, rough and strained by a possible lack of use. She turned towards the voice and felt the world around her stop. There, standing only feet away from her, was Speedwagon. His posture was poor as if standing up alone took far more energy than it should, his clothes were torn and dirty. The pieces clicked into place.
He had crawled out of his own grave. Without hesitation, [Name] rushed to him, wrapping her arms around him and sobbing into his shoulder, apologies spilled from her lips like the tears from her eyes. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close, enjoying the feeling of her warm body against his ice cold one. His beloved was in his arms again, he could feel her heart beating against him, her tears dripping on his shoulder. He could feel.
“Robert...y-you’re a-a-alive!” She cried, her hold on him tight, afraid that if she wasn’t careful enough that he would slip away as nothing more than a figment of her grieving mind. Though the way he held her, his arms around her, it was far too realistic for it to be an illusion.
Speedwagon held onto her, the many sensations of his surroundings still rushing through him. His mind spinning with mixed memories to the point his knees felt weak. Though, there was one memory that remained fixed in his mind, pushing away all other ones and forcing him to focus on only that one. The man standing only feet away from him, the cigarette hanging from his lips and the cap lifted up just enough for Speedwagon to see his face. The leader of a smaller rival gang who had been trying to take over Speedwagon’s gang’s territory. The gun emerged from his coat faster than Speedwagon could react, giving him no chance to being able to avoid or retaliate.
Four bullets shot from the gun and embedded themselves into his chest; hot blood poured from the wounds, staining his clothes as he fell backwards from the force of them. Fear mixed with the pain, his body trying to crawl away in a vain attempt of escape but the wounds were fatal. The man left without so much as a word, leaving Speedwagon to die in that alley way.
That single memory ignited something inside of him, this burning fire that flooded his veins and seeped through every muscle in his body. His chocolate brown eyes glowed with a dark rage, that bastard thinks he could just kill him without there being Hell to pay?
[Name] looked up and saw this look, thin tendrils of fear slithered around her heart at it as she has never seen such a murderous glint in her lover’s eyes before. “Robert, what is it?” Concern dripped from her words like rain from leaves after a heavy night of raining, that look was not her Robert.
“He killed me...That bastard shot me an’ left me for dead.” Even his words burned with this boiling rage, “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him.”
Frosty shock washed over the [Hair colour] woman at this, Speedwagon may have been a criminal but he would never kill for revenge, that was a line he promised her he would never cross. To hear him say such a thing made her shiver with unease.
“No, Robert. You don’t have to do this.” She spoke, her arms still wrapped around him. She loved him and she was not going to let him do something he will regret later. Those burning eyes turned to her, locking with her [Eye colour] orbs and she could see the rage in them.
“Why not? The bastard gunned me down an’ left me to rot in a Godforsaken alley!” There was such anger in his words that she had never heard before, and it scared her. Pulling away from him, she brought her hands to his cheeks, his skin was cold against hers but that was the very least of her concerns at the moment.
“Robert please, if you do that then you are no better than him. You’re here now, you’re back and that’s what matters. Please, don’t lower yourself to his level.” The pleading glow in her [Eye colour] eyes cut through him more than the bullets did, latching onto his dead heart and gently soothing it of the anger. She....She was right. This festering anger would gain him nothing but more pain, more anger. He was a man of dignity, at least, and morals. If he went and killed the bastard, he would be no better than him.
Slowly, his arms wrapped back around his beloved, leaning into her touch. He couldn’t let himself fall to such levels, it was not who he was. All that did matter was that he was here with [Name], they were together again. That was what mattered.
#speedwagon#robert e o speedwagon#jojo bizarre adventure#speedwagon x reader#robert e o speedwagon x reader#jojo bizzare adventure x reader#jojo#jojo x reader#speedwagon jojo#robert edward o speedwagon#reo speedwagon#phantom blood#phantom blood x reader#jojo phantom blood#jojo part 1#jjba
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Unpopular PJO/HOO/TOA opinions
This is gonna be wordy but I’m not sorry for it.
Percabeth is hella overrated. It’s nice, but I would prefer other ships over it and some of y’all Percabeth shippers are scary as hell
I love TOA. A lot people don’t like it because it doesn’t include the main 7 and another topic that I’ll mention later but honestly, I could care less. I’m glad that the others aren’t there other than cameos. It means they’re getting a chance to heal after everything and honestly, good for them. People like to cast TOA as an unnecessary spinoff that didn’t need to be included yet it gives y’all the type of character development you scream and beg for in other books. It’s literally the perfect character development trope you crave, yet puts a good spin on it.
Some of you haven’t even READ toa and say you hate it. Like what? How is that supposed to work.
PJO was way better than HOO. TOA sits in the middle of the two.
I love TOA because it shows Apollo’s character growth from one of the most arrogant, cocky, and prideful gods. And even then, he doesn’t go from that to a helpless mortal loving fool, he stays arrogant and prideful but less so. Not to mention more understanding of mortals and demigods live and what they go through. He doesn’t go from one extreme to the other, but one extreme to more of a center balance. It’s more natural that way.
While Jason’s death in TOA was sorta cheap, it goes to show demigods can die at the least expected times. If Jason had died during the war, then it would be “oh, well, that’s what war does. It kills people. Nothing new.” Compared to Jason going about life as normal and one small mission is his end. It’s more impactful and realistic that way. It goes to show that life as a demigod is always dangerous, fighting or not.
Jason’s anger to Percy for not noticing Nico’s feelings towards him is absolute bullshit. Fuck that as a whole. Nico acting cold and hateful towards Percy doesn’t and shouldn’t equal “I like you, notice me please”. The internalized homophobia should be Jason’s focus, not Percy’s lack of attention at Nico’s feelings.
Same for Leo about Calypso. Not to mention they both shove the blame onto Percy like its his fault when it really isn’t. Having your memory forcefully wiped mere months after a war isn’t gonna help when remembering stuff like that. Not to mention the Gods are bums who will try to do as little as possible and leave the rest to demigods. It leads to one sided anger and unnecessary confusion and guilt on the other side. Bad writing on Rick’s part tbh.
People need to stop acting like Jason didn’t die. That’s clinging into a ghost and not letting it move on. I hate to be the one who says it, but Jason is canonically dead and acting like he isn’t won’t change shit. It’s gonna lead to unhealthy habits in the future, trust me. You can’t write a fic post TOA then be like “oh yeah, Jason’s alive because I want him to :)))” because that isn’t how life works sweetheart.
People also need to stop pretending TOA doesn’t exist. You might not like it but you have to acknowledge that it is actually there and it follows the PJO/HOO timeline.
Paul was just a card to give Sally a nice man to lean on when it wasn’t necessary.
Percy should’ve been wayyyy more suspicious of Paul when he was first introduced. 6 years of abuse from a “father figure” isn’t just gonna go away because “oh he’s nice.” Guess what? Gabe was nice at first canoncially (even if it was for a very short amount of time).
Percy. Has. Serious. Anger. Issues. He’s sassy and stuff, sure, but he’s also got some severe anger problems that he both inherited from Poseidon and developed and festered over time from living with Gabe for 6 years.
Percy is the type to act like Hades or Apollo, attack a lesser being(s) because he can’t go after the big shot without fear of punishment. I wouldn’t be surprised if some his expulsions were from beating up various kids and/or teachers.
For the first half of TLT, Percy did not like Camp Half-Blood or consider it his “home” other than Grover and Luke. The camp treated him like shit because he was a noobie at first and then because he was a son of the Big Three. He hated Poseidon for his lack of care and lack of help when he and his mom were abused under Gabe. Had Luke talked to him during that time period and/or Kronos spoke to him in dreams, he would’ve joined the Titans. His loyalty for the camp didn’t form until near the end of TLT.
Nico and Percy basically had somewhat personality switches. Nico was an excitable, happy, laid back, and naive kid while Percy was a quiet, angry, and irritable kid. Nico’s switch came from Bianca’s death while Percy’s was more gradual. In the end, Nico became the quiet, irritable kid and Percy became the more happy, laid back kid.
Stop ignoring the fact that Nico, a literal 14-year-old, traversed into Tartarus. Alone. There’s always fics of Percy and Annabeth recovering or suffering from the after affects of the fall and war while Nico is relatively normal. The boy is not and has not been okay. His life has been one shitshow to the next ever since he was ten.
Both Percy and Nico have incredibly dark sides to their powers that they seemingly enjoyed that was fueled by anger. Percy with Achlys and Nico with Bryce. Percy admitted to liking torturing the goddess and Nico, though more subtly, seemed amused by Bryce and his attempts to justify his crimes and then frantic attempts to stay alive. Bryce literally says “I’m Bryce Lawrence! I am alive!” And Nico casually responds with “Who are you?” as he turns Bryce into a souless husk of a person. You cannot tell me that he wouldn’t have tilted his head innocently and cracked a small smile at that.
Piper’s portrayal as a Native American. Do I even need to go into that?
Percy. Liked. Luke. The boy knew the son of Hermes for what? 1 week? 2? Yet considered him to be a friend, possibly a close one at that. It probably went the same route Nico’s crush did. Hero adoration to actual romantic feelings but godspeed. Not because he just wanted to like a boy, but because, other than Chiron, Luke treated him with kindness, patience, and understanding as a male figure, something Percy didn’t really have growing up. Not to mention Luke helped Percy when no one else would. As a 12 year old, those type of feelings were bound to develop.
People who make the characters treat Percy and Leo as dumb, oblivious, or one dimensional sassy bois™️. Percy and Leo would be offended and/or defensive of such a thing because of childhood trauma. How many years do you think they can to endure that when they were younger from people they were supposed to trust or respect? You seriously can’t think they would be fine with it because their friends. Maybe a reference once or twice, but constantly? Absolutely not. Old habits die hard.
Solangelo seemed forced to me. I dunno, Nico’s whole confession felt like a ruse to get him set up with Will right away. I felt as though there wasn’t any real “connection” between the two prior to them getting together. It all felt rushed and out of place for the setting they were in. I’ve never understood it nor liked it and usually try to avoid it. That and Caleo seemed like a way to put all the characters in relationships so that they were “happy”, portraying that they needed to be with someone to achieve their happiness. Leo and Nico would’ve been better off single and learning to love themselves before loving someone else. Same applies to Sally.
Nico and Thalia would never get along because Thalia would be a reminder of what Nico lost (Bianca) and how easily how she could be replaced.
Demeter kids need more respect. I feel like that’s what Meg is for. To show that they can also technically be considered “Big Three” material because, if you forgot, Demeter is a child of Kronos as well. That means Demeter’s kids are cousins with the Big Three kids as well.
Aphrodite’s kids also need more respect. Aphrodite in the PJO universe is literally older than all gods, as she was born from Uranus’ gentials in the ocean and arose from there. Their powers could be exapanded wayyy more if they were focused on more.
Not to mention Poseidon kids could possibly gain attibutes of what would be considered Aphrodite’s powers since she was born from the ocean and vice versa. The possibilities are endless there.
That’s all I could think of for now! Lemme know what you guys think though.
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@archmage--khadgar sent: retrouvaille - the joy of meeting or finding someone again after a long separation; rediscovery
✧°⋆ 𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐞 ————send in a word for a drabble or starter based on it.
——
(( I don’t know how canon I want to make this just yet BUT I was hit with a specific idea that I had to run with. Shaw doesn’t have many people he can reunite with, let alone feel happy about it, but this is... ONE. ))
...
[ARCHIVE: YEAR 32 — LOG SHW009876]
Shaw owes his life to the Uncrowned. Without them, he’d still be suffering, still be trapped as Stormwind crumbles under the influence of Detheroc wearing his face. Or, more mercifully, he would have died there, starved, infected, weak, pathetic. They’d saved him, saved Stormwind, spared them from an unnecessary war — he loathed that such an intense debt was placed on him.
Some time after his rescue, and after defeating Detheroc in Stormwind, he returned with the Champions and the rogues into the Uncrowned’s hideout. He pledged his loyalty, he thanked them, and he sought to get straight to work.
But he was weakened already from the months of imprisonment, and moreso from a neglected wound in the fight at SI:7 against the dreadlord. Ravenholdt and the others set out to get back to business, and he collapsed.
Infection, he remembers hearing someone say as he was being tended to. He was in and out, barely registering what was happening. Laid to a bed, cold cloth to his head, someone dressing a wound at his side he hadn’t noticed festered with fel. They called a priest from the Netherlight Temple, and he was given a strict order: rest.
Through the fever, he drifted, coming to now and then. How aggravating, to lose such control. Any of these rogues could have their way with him, and he’d be helpless to it, but he hardly has the strength to fuss and fight over it.
He awakes briefly to the sound of a door opening, his head spinning with the effort it takes to lift it to observe. A young woman, short cropped black hair and a stark red bandana toting a tray of tea had entered.
Vanessa.
He drops his head back down to the pillow, letting out a shaky laugh. “ So it seems I’m dying, then. ”
Vanessa gave pause, gaze flicking towards him briefly before continuing, setting the tray at the nightstand beside him. “ So negative. What makes the great Master Shaw say so? ”
His head lulls to the side, facing away from her. There’s an emotion caught in his throat he can’t quite identify. Grief? Fear? Sorrow? Humor? It’s all so tangled, and his limbs are so cold. “ It’s not the first time I’ve been stuck like this. Wounded. At the brink of death. Funny how sickness makes you see things. ”
“ Hmm. And funny how fevers always bring the most dramatic out of the finest soldiers. ”
He’s quiet for a long moment, enough that Vanessa wondered if he’d drifted off. “ I was seventeen. Tried to outrun orcs, fell off a wall, broke my shin. It was rainy and muddy, exposed bone was wrought to infection. I’d almost died — funny things, I saw, battling that fever. I hallucinated the dead. I thought I had saw my mother, but I didn’t remember her face. All so... wrong. ”
His voice lacks the usual restraint he would give it, so loose and strained it was. Delirious — the fever is perhaps worse than she’d anticipated. He rolls his head back to see her, tired green eyes searching hers, his face pallor and sweaty. Unbecoming.
“ I wish you were real. ”
Ah. That’s what this was. Vanessa doesn’t say anything, simply turning away from him to pour the cup of tea. He still has his gaze on her, however conscious he is, and for whatever reason, Vanessa can’t look at him.
“ You think you’re hallucinating. ”
“ I am. I read the field reports. I already know... ” He forces his head up to stare at the ceiling, vision spinning and blurring. “ I... I was never given a chance to say goodbye to you. After the riots, your father and I — we fought, Light, I could not... I had come home one day and you were gone. I wasn’t given a chance. ”
“ You had plenty of chances, Shaw, ” She says harshly, quiet voice spoken through gritted teeth. “ You sent your agents after the Defias. You knew what happened, you knew they were innocent. You could have come with us. ”
“ I am blood-bound to Stormwind, Vanessa. There was no choice for me. ”
“ There’s always a choice. You chose a broken kingdom over us. ”
He closes his eyes tightly, feeling the brunt of the dizziness wash over him. The pain is deserved, he feels. It’d be mercy if the infection killed him. “ I live with my mistakes. They haunt me every day, everything I could have done differently. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wish I could have done more. Saved him. ” He pauses, and on these last words, his voice breaks. “ Saved you. ”
Vanessa stirs the cup of tea, mostly to avoid looking at him directly and to keep her hands busy. “ How noble, ” She says, retrieving a small, black vial from her belt. Just as practiced, just as planned. “ Those thoughts do much for us now, doesn’t it. ”
“ I prayed, Vanessa. I believe in nothing, not a single higher power but I prayed that you could have had a chance at a different life. After Edwin... — the Saldeans, they could have taken care of you. Given you a different path. You did not need to be confined to your father’s footsteps. ”
Her fingers are on the vial’s cork, ready to pop it open, but a thought stops her. She snaps her head to him, searching his bleary expression with furrowed brows as a realization dawns on her. “ ... You were the bandit that escorted me from the Mines... weren’t you? ”
“ You were just a kid... They orphaned you. Left you with nothing. Left the Brotherhood with nothing. They killed him, and did not bother to see what consequences were left behind. I had to look for you — I had to at least give you a chance. ”
She abandons the vial on the tray, reaching to his bedside to grasp his jaw and force him to look at her. There’s no strength to him; his head is loose with no indication that he can fight back. “ You went all that way — you found me, and you abandoned me at the Saldeans?! ”
The touch almost feels real — this image of Vanessa fills his blurred vision. Those fine angled brows resembled Edwin’s so much, those piercing blue eyes, that charcoal hair — it twists his gut and fills his heart with sorrow. “ They would have given you a normal life. ”
“ Why... Why didn’t you just take me? ”
The pain in her voice makes his eyes sting. Desperately, he had wanted to take her. Edwin was dead, and she was left with nothing — he hadn’t seen her in ten years but he could still raise her, still give her all the opportunities Stormwind had to offer, had the SI:7 induct her and change her life.
But he remembered then, what that connection to Stormwind, to the SI:7 and Assassin’s Guild, what that had all done to him, how loyalty was embedded so deeply in his blood he was forced to abandon love to further the crown — he could not sentence her to that fate. Not to this same fate that killed her father, that doomed her and the Brotherhood, he couldn’t do that to her. She could be normal — no VanCleef, no Shaw, just simple, humble farm girl Saldean. She could have been saved.
She staring down at him, fury and sadness in her eyes that were so familiar. His voice breaks when he answers. “ Would you have forgiven me if I did? ”
She glares at him for a long moment. The bandana conceals the number of times she’d opened her mouth to spit a retort but died in her throat, and eventually, she releases him, his head falling back to the side as she turns away. Forgiveness was not an option for her. This world, this kingdom, this man had taken so much from her. Forgiveness would be concession, surrender, to accept defeat. She had a legacy to uphold, one that couldn’t be won through something as pitiful as forgiveness. No, perhaps she wouldn’t have forgiven him, but it would have been nice to have a home.
The rage is enough to get her back to her plan. She resumes her work, popping open the vial and its viscous liquid. She’d designed it herself — a terrible neurotoxin, engineered just for Shaw. It’d be mistaken for the fel poisoning, stir up his memories and leave him paralyzed and numb, forced to watch his life play back. It’d shut everything in him down in minutes — no master rogue would be able to detect it. Potions, poisons, these were her specialties.
This is what he deserves.
She dumps the vial into the tea, watching the steam fly out as it mixes. Odorless. Beautiful. A work of art. Shaw’s lulling off, utterly disoriented and so far removed from reality she almost feels sorry.
“ I still remember sitting for hours trying to figure out a name... ” He murmurs. “ Kelsa. Variana. Llana. Charlene. Valeria. Maria. Rebecca. Edwin hated all of them. ”
He laughs a little at the fond memory. “ I’m not good at names. That was always Edwin’s strength — and I still remember. He said, no middle names, you get the first one down right or not at all. Which, in hindsight, was solid advice. Vanessa VanCleef — it rolls off the tongue so well. ”
She huffs. “ Better than Hope Saldean. ”
“ Leagues better. My grandmother tried so hard to have you named after her, or my mother. She gave me hell for not letting you take my surname too. Funny how different life could have been. ”
Vanessa frowns, carefully seating herself at the edge of his bed. She hadn’t seen him up close in years — it brings her mixed feelings. The memories she had of him were so, drastically different. Younger, cleaner, and without that stupid damn mustache. But now, he’s aged, wrinkled, greying at the temples and nothing of the energy she remembered him with. It’s weird, really, how it makes her feel.
Shaw’s saying something, so quietly under his breath she has to lean in to catch it.
“ I miss you. Every day, I have missed you, Ness, ” He murmurs, tear-filled eyes holding her gaze. “ I could not bring myself to take you. I prayed, prayed that you’d be better off without either of our legacies, and somehow, somehow things still... I tried. I tried to sabotage those efforts to take down the Defias. I kept the SI:7 out of Westfall, I redirected everyone to the Twilight’s Hammer. I prayed every champion that went into the Deadmines died before they could find you. And still... ”
“ History repeats. ”
“ Doomed to an ugly destiny, aren’t we? ” He laughs bitterly, weakly bringing a hand to cover his pale face. “ When you died... I feel as though a part of me died too. So many years it’s taken me to realize just what I was a part of. How much blood my loyalty spills. What I’ve let it take. ”
“ And now... ” She turns to stare at the cup of tea, her own gaze growing distant. “ Now that same loyalty will kill you too. You loved Stormwind so much, demons took advantage of it. ”
“ There is no love. I don’t think there was ever any love for Stormwind. ” His chin lifts, just slightly. “ Only duty. ”
What a prison.
The concoction on the nightstand would free him from it. Relieve him from his duty, from his loyalty. She’d finally have some semblance of revenge against those who’d wronged the Stonemasons and killed her father. She needs only feed it to him. It’d be so easy too, so, painfully easy. He’s ready to die already, still not even aware that she was real and solid and sitting before him.
It’d be so easy.
So why can’t she do it?
In the end, the truth was, a small part of her had also missed him. Even through the anger and the betrayal, the hurt and the grief, in the end, the only memories she had of him were good. Picking her up as a child, showing her Stormwind, teaching her nifty tricks and getting into minor trouble. How her, Mathias and Edwin would sit on the half-finished towers overlooking Stormwind with a packed lunch and watch the sunset, play for hours until she’d fallen asleep. In the end, all she remembered of him was that he was family at some point. Something she could never have again.
“ Moth. ”
The word almost seems to bring him to life. It grasps his attention, and he looks to her expectantly, still bleary, but alert. How many years had it been since he heard that word?
He watches her, examines her, somehow sharper than before. “ You still remember that name. ”
“ I never forgot it. ”
Tiny Vanessa, still learning her words, had heard everyone call him Mathias, but she tripped on her own pronunciation and called him ‘Moth’. Oh how it stuck — he remembers the name only on the voice of a child, but she’s grown now, she’s older, and he missed all of those years.
“ I came here to kill you, ” Vanessa continues, looking away from him. “ I’ve spent years hating you. Resenting you for everything. You took everything from me. ”
A dawning realization slowly sets in on the feverish Spymaster as he listens. He doesn’t know if he’ll remember this exchange if he heals up and recovers, but there’s a gnawing feeling about this, about this hallucination, about her —
“ You should, ” He says quietly, closing his eyes. “ There is no reason why you shouldn’t. And there is... no one on Azeroth who deserves to end my life than you. ”
“ You’re surrendering? ”
“ Accepting my fate. My consequences. ” His breath picks up, he forces himself to open his eyes and truly see her. Carefully, he reaches out a hand to grasp her wrist, faintly squeezing with what strength he had. “ You’re no hallucination... are you? ”
She stares at the hand for a long moment, contemplating. Then, slowly, she moved to wrap her own around his. “ Don’t trust the word of a mind-addled adventurer. I never died. ”
Hope blooms in his chest, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes. How he had mourned her — but she lives, she’s so young and still the chance to live this life —
It’s all he’s needed to hear. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he’s desperately hoping this isn’t a fever dream, that this is real, that she is alive. He holds her hand, as if she’d disappear if he didn’t.
“ Then I have no qualms with dying. ”
...
The fever breaks a few days later, and Shaw makes his swift recovery. The Champions of the Uncrowned request his aid along the Broken Shore, which he obliges as much as he’s able. There’s still plenty of broken pieces to pick up. Azeroth in turmoil, Stormwind in disarray with the false Shaw planting lies, and on top of it, Anduin ordering him to rest, forcibly taking work away from him to leave him with nothing.
Vanessa had left and taken the poison with her. They never spoke directly again, and for a while, Shaw was almost convinced she wasn’t real once he was fully awake and better.
But Greymane and Ravenholdt informed him otherwise. The Defias were as much intertwined with the Uncrowned as the rest of them.
Vanessa lived.
By the time Shaw had returned safely home, he wept.
#missive: inbox#backlog: writing#declassified: legion#file: v. vancleef#( god i was initially stuck on this cause i was like who the FUCK could he have a happy reunion with )#( and though this isn't like. the Happiest or most Joyful it is about the closest you can get )#( not edited i wrote this all in one sitting cause inspiration hit me like a goddamn truck THANKS FOR SENDING )
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