#Telling people to walk somewhere and then hearing terrified screams as they plummet is very upsetting though

[mariana-oconnor]

Today's news: Waterdhavian Wizard Learns to Levitate Without Using a Spell Slot.

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

For the writing requests: Zedaph with a fear of heights?

I seriously love getting such open-ended prompts like this because then I can just go wild. Hope you like what I’ve written!

CW: panic attack

…

  There’s a reason Zedaph doesn’t usually fly places. He prefers to travel by nether where possible, but on this occasion, there’s no point going all the way through the nether hub when he can just fly over the mountain to Impulse’s base. It’s a short flight so everything should be okay.

  But the one thing he forgets to check before he sets off is the durability of his elytra.

  As he’s flying over the cliff, he feels a jerk and realises immediately that his elytra has snapped. He starts to drop but, reacting quickly, manages to grab onto the very edge of the cliff, stopping his fall. 

  However, his grip doesn’t last long.

  He lets out a screech as he slips down the mountain face, struggling wildly for a foothold. After a few seconds, he’s able to catch one on on a small stone ledge sticking out from the cliff about a quarter of the way down. He manages to turn himself around but he soon realises that was a BIG mistake.

  Because now he can see the two hundred block drop below him. 

  Already starting to panic, Zedaph shakily takes out his communicator. 

<Zedaph> Help!

<Zedaph> Elytra broke!

<Zedaph> Stuck on a cliff!

<Zedaph> Can’t get down!

  As he’s typing out his coordinates, he gets three messages in a row.

<Tango> Are you okay? Where are you?

<Impulse> Where are you Zed?? 

<Xisuma> Where are you? I can help! 

  Zedaph manages to send his coordinates before panic overwhelms him and he presses himself against the stone cliff face, squeezing his eyes shut. His world sways around him, making him dizzy and threatening to send him pitching forwards to the ground below.

  Xisuma is the first to arrive on the scene. One look up tells him that Zedaph is too low down to be grabbed from above, so he sets about trying to find a way to save his friend from down here.

  “Where is he?!” Tango gasps, landing neatly on the ground next to him. 

  Xisuma points him out. “There. We need a way to either slow or break his fall. I don’t suppose you have any splash potions of slow falling, do you?”

  Tango shakes his head. “N-No, I don’t. What about water?” 

  “Good idea, but too risky. From down here, we can’t tell where he’ll fall and we don’t have time to cover the whole area in enough water to completely break his fall.”

  Up on the cliff, about three minutes have passed since Zedaph first called for help, but it feels like over three hours to the terrified hermit. One glance down tells him that a crowd is forming under him but he can’t force himself to look down long enough to see who’s there. The only thing he could make out in his brief glance down is the bright yellow design he recognises from Impulse’s t-shirt. 

  “Zedaph!” 

  He almost glances down again but the nausea and panic rising in him is causing him to freeze. 

  Tango tries again: “ZED! Do you have anything on you to help get you down?!”

  Zedaph knows he should look in his inventory. Perhaps he has an ender pearl on him? It would be worth the pain of pearling from all the way up here if it meant he could be on the ground in seconds, and avoiding a terrifying fall would certainly be a bonus.

  But he can’t. He can’t move. His hands are gripping the stone indents so tightly that his knuckles are turning white. If he lets go, if he moves, if he tries to check his inventory, if he looks down, if he even opens his eyes…

  ...he’ll fall.   “He can’t get down!” Tango gasps. “What do we do?!”

  “Slime!” comes a voice from above.

  The small crowd looks up to find Iskall swooping overhead. He lands quickly on the ground and starts handing out slime blocks. “This’ll break his fall. Quick!” 

  Tango, Iskall, Impulse, Xisuma, and a few others start to spread the slime blocks all over the ground, creating a bouncy platform that will save Zedaph if he falls. 

  But less than a minute later, a terrifying scream sounds from above them as Zedaph finally loses his grip and slips right off the ledge.

  Zedaph screams again as he plummets, his hands wildly grasping at the air in a futile attempt to slow his fall. He knows he will die if he hits the ground, but there’s nothing he can do to stop it from happening. 

  Below him, he hears two distinctive voices scream his name. 

  A second later, he feels himself hit a bouncy surface and ricochet off. Arms flailing, he falls the six or so blocks to the ground, taking only a heart or two of damage as he does. He lies where he fell, gasping for breath through panic and adrenaline. 

  “Everyone get back!” calls Xisuma’s hazy voice. “Give him some room! He needs air!”

  He feels someone drop down next to him. “Zed! Zed, can you hear me?!”

  Zedaph can tell from his voice that Tango is terrified out of his mind right now, but he can’t summon the energy to talk or even nod. He is fully hyperventilating now, his lungs heaving as he tries and fails to gulp in enough oxygen through his sobs. 

  “What do I do?!” cries Tango in distress. “I don’t know what to do! How do I help him?!”

  Then a newcomer arrives. “Stay calm, Tango. Reassure him that you’re there and he’s safe. Keep saying that. And remind him to keep breathing.”

  “O-Okay…!” Tango takes a deep, shaky breath. “Z-Zed, it’s okay, I’m here. You’re safe, I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere.”

  The knot in Zedaph’s chest loosens slightly. 

  He feels Tango’s hand on his shoulder. “Breathe, Zed. Breathe deeply. In, out. In, out.”

  “Don’t tell him to breathe deeply,” comes the other voice. It sounds familiar but Zedaph can’t quite identify it just yet. “Just breathe. Mimic normal rhythm and it’ll return.”

  “R-Right, right. In. Out. In. Out. Can you do that for me? In. Out. In. Out.”

  Even though Zedaph knows Tango well enough to see through his calm facade, just the presence of his best friend is allowing him to slowly calm down. He mimics the timing of Tango’s breaths, his heartrate slowly but surely returning to normal. 

  At that moment, he hears the voice of his other best friend from somewhere behind him. “-want to see him! I want to see Zed!”

  Zedaph’s eyes are closed but he feels Impulse’s presence immediately. He breathes shakily but deeply out, finally able to stem the tears flowing from his eyes. 

  He rolls onto his back, one hand resting on his aching chest. 

  Someone takes his other hand and clasps it tightly. “It’s okay,” Impulse’s voice whispers. “You’re okay, Zed. You’re safe.” 

  Impulse’s hand in his and Tango’s reassuring hand on his shoulder helps Zedaph relax. His breathing returns to normal and he tilts his head back slightly, his stomach swimming with nausea. 

  He opens his mouth and manages to croak, “T-Tango.”

  “We’re here.” Tango can hardly raise his voice above a raspy whisper. “We’re both here.”

  Finally, Zedaph manages to open his eyes. Sure enough, he finds the pale faces of his best friends gazing worriedly down at him. 

  As he struggles to sit up, Impulse and Tango both immediately place a hand behind his back to help him. “Take it easy,” says Impulse softly. “You gave us a real scare, buddy.” 

  Gripping his best friends’ arms for support, Zedaph lets out a long breath. “I-I gave myself the fright of my life, th-that’s for sure.”

  “Zed…” Tango hesitates. “What happened up there? Why didn’t you open your inventory?”

  “I...um...” Zedaph also hesitates. He trusts his best friends implicitly but this is something he has never shared with anyone before. “I have acrophobia.”

  Tango gives his best friend a concerned frown. “Zed, I’ve known you for years. How have you never told me you’re scared of heights?” 

  Zedaph shrugs helplessly. “I-I don’t know, it just never came up before. It’s not as bad when I fly with an elytra cuz I’ve had years of practise; it’s just extended periods of time where I’m high up and I just freak out completely. I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. And I’m sorry for scaring you guys.”

  Tango quickly shakes his head. “No no, don’t apologise. I’m just so relieved you’re okay.”

  Zedaph closes his eyes and rests his head on Tango’s shoulder. “Me too.”

  In the ensuing pause, the same voice from before says, “How often do you have panic attacks?”

  Opening his eyes again, Zedaph looks up and finds Grian standing a few blocks away, a concerned look on his face. “Hardly ever. This one just got triggered because of my acrophobia. You?”

  Grian hesitates, glancing from Impulse and Tango to Zedaph. He realises that Zedaph can tell from the way he calmly and efficiently gave his advice that he’s no stranger to panic attacks “Not often. Anymore.”

  “Thanks for helping us out, there,” Tango says gratefully. “I wouldn’t have had any idea what to do if it wasn’t for you.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ve been in both your places before. And let’s just say I know from experience that if there’s anything worse than having a panic attack, it’s having one in the presence of people who don’t know how to help you.” 

  Impulse gives a thin smile. “Well, we’ll definitely know what to do if it happens again in future. Thanks, man.”

  “No worries.” Grian smiles back at him, before glancing down at Zedaph. “And Zedaph, take as much time to recover from this as you need to, without feeling guilty or like you should be over it by now. I don’t know how many attacks you’ve had in the past but take it from me: rushing your recovery will make things worse. Take some time to relax.”

  Zedaph manages a nod. “I will. Thank you.”

  Grian nods back. “Feel better, man. I’ll see you later.” 

  As Grian walks off, Zedaph attempts to rise to his feet, but his legs buckle. Thankfully, Tango and Impulse are right there to steady him and lift him up. 

  “Where do you want to go, Zed?” Tango asks gently. “Anywhere you want.” 

  After a moment, Zedaph glances up at Tango, then at Impulse. “I want to lie on the grass outside Toon Towers with you two and as much cake as I can eat.”

  Tango and Impulse exchange a grin.

  “We can arrange that.” 

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (87) || atz

Hongjoong stares, eyes wide and lips parted. Kill the... kill the sea goddess?

“Kill a god?” Yeosang repeats, so incredulously that his voice wavers. “Did I just hear that right? You want to kill the sea goddess?”

“Do the gods even exist?” Wooyoung mumbles under his breath, trying to put two and two together. The expression on his face is doubtful, suspicious. “That’s it. This voodoo stuff is a bunch of bull. San’s sorcery hands are the most I can deal with.”

His father doesn’t reply, merely staring straight at Hongjoong with his head held high. Eyes unrelenting, burning with determination, he almost feels the urge to take a step back in response. “You’re going to kill the sea goddess. How?”

His father’s hand reaches down in response, beginning to pull something from his belt. At the sight of a metallic gleam, Wooyoung and Yeosang react instantly, the gunner yanking his shotgun from his back to aim it squarely at the man while Yeosang ducks behind him for protection.

“Don’t shoot!” Hongjoong’s voice is harsh, and Wooyoung’s finger stills on the trigger. He’s trembling for reasons he himself doesn’t understand, hands barely able to grip and hold the gun steady. Everything about the man before them throws him off, from how normal he appears to the way he can declare such outrageous things without the slightest change in expression. Does he really believe that he can kill a god?

“Don’t worry. This blade can’t hurt you.” Hongjoong’s father unsheathes the blde at his belt fully to reveal a shining black dagger, the handle curved and carved with elaborately twisting designs reminiscent of surging waves and the ebbing tides. “It’s a sacred relic I tracked down, crafted by witches in the ancient times. I don’t know what their purpose was in making this,” he holds it up, and even in the blinding afternoon sun the black metal seems to swallow the very light that glances off it, “but it’s worked on all mythical creatures I’ve encountered.”

“You’re not,” Wooyoung snarls, teeth practically bared, “getting that anywhere near Chin Hae! What are you, some kind of monster?” The thought of you even being hurt, by that terrifying blade no less, scares him worse than if the blade were to be used on him instead. He won’t let anything happen to you, he can’t-

“Call me all the names you wish.” The commander lifts a shoulder in dismissal, mismatched eyes clear, not wavering in the least. “I knew what I was getting myself into the second I set this plan into motion. And I can assure you,” his gaze narrows as he looks down at the gun in Wooyoung’s hands, “that your weapons will do nothing against me.”

An icy cold sensation trickles down the back of Wooyoung’s nexk, and he finds himself swallowing involuntarily as he tightens his grip on his shotgun. “So what?” He retorts, as harshly as he can muster. “That isn’t going to stop me from trying.”

“Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung’s mouth clamps shut the second Hongjoong speaks, voice hard and eyes lost in thought. Hongjoong can’t help but feel like there’s something that his father has not yet revealed, something that would connect all the dots to reveal his father’s true intentions. Something so large that he just can’t see it yet. He’s still looking at individual stars, but he needs to see the entire constellations to read the night skies, just like his father had taught him to navigate the seas.

“One more thing.” Hongjoong says slowly, fingers curling around the handle of his blade. This question will link everything together, from his father’s intentions to the very reason he’s standing here right now, facing down his own parent with a sword in hand. He thinks he knows the answer already, but he wants to hear it spoken out loud in confirmation. “Tell me. What does any of this have to do with Chin Hae?”

For a moment, there is nothing but the sound of the sea winds sweeping over the sandy beach. His father takes a deep breath, exhales and speaks.

“The being you call Chin Hae...” he says softly, words carried over by the wind, “It is the essence of the sea that people call the sea goddess.”

Wooyoung stills completely, so shocked by the man’s words he can’t seem to move except to utter a single ‘what?’ from his lips. Yeosang, too, seems similarly stunned, eyes wide with surprise. Only Hongjoong swallows at the confirmation from his own father’s mouth, jaw clenched.

“What you call Chin Hae is nothing more than the essence of the sea in a vessel of clay.” His father says calmly, and every word resounds in his ears like a gunshot. “All the memories, every kind word it has said, every warmth and every embrace it has ever shared with you: it is most likely fake. The sea goddess has some sort of agenda in mind, I know it. The gods do not extend compassion to human beings - it simply isn’t their nature.”

You had come to his ship without memories, and they had found out that you were a a living, breathing, walking body of clay. The way all of the people they had encountered in the attempt to discover your identity had spoken of you as if you were something not quite of this world, something special, it all points to what his father is saying: you’re the sea goddess, and the very same one who had saved him all those years ago on the beach his father had marooned him on.

The sea is a cruel mistress, it does not discriminate, he remembers his father telling him that all those years ago. It is unfeeling and merciless, and cares nothing for humans. You must learn to overcome it yourself, son.

Hongjoong remembers the way your eyes had flashed stormy grey last night, the colour of a raging sea ready to pull him under, the knife in your hand an inch from ending his life. What if... but no...

The silence is broken by a snort, before it suddenly turns into full blown laughter. Hongjoong turns to see Wooyoung wiping away the tears at the corners of his eyes, laughing so hard that he can barely keep himself upright if it weren’t for his shotgun supporting him.

“Sea goddess!” Wooyoung wheezes. Hongjoong presses his lips together, and Yeosang inhales slightly. Is their gunner alright in the head? “Chin Hae, a sea goddess?”

Hongjoong’s father does not reply, simply watches as Wooyoung regains his bearings. The gunner shakes his head, determinedly raising his gun once again to point it at his target.

“You thought just telling us that she was a sea goddess was going to be enough to get us to give her up to you?” Wooyoung says sharply, teeth gritted. “Let me tell you something. You’ve never felt the warmth of her hug or the softness of her hand in yours. You’ve never seen the way she cries because she’s worried for you.” Wooyoung’s hands tighten on the gun, shaking near imperceptibly with his anger. “But we have.”

At those words, the air suddenly drops in temperature. Thunder rumbles somewhere off in the distance, lightning faintly crackling overhead, and Hongjoong shivers ever so slightly. Unease begins to pool in his gut, rising with each passing second as the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. What is happening?

“You’re talking about things that you do not understand.” Hongjoong’s father’s voice turns cold, and for the first time in his life, Hongjoong senses anger in his father’s words and his heart plummets in his chest. “Do you know just what the sea is capable of? Have you ever been on board of a ship in the middle of a hurricane as the waves and storm rips your hope to shreds right before your eyes?”

Wooyoung falls silent at his question, unable to say a word. His father presses on, voice growing more and more quiet until there’s another voice speaking with his, distorted and mangled like an echo overlapping with his words. “Have you ever stood at the helm, watching your crew members get swept overboard by waves as you try to steer the ship out of the storm? Look on as their friends scream and cry for them before they too, in the next second, are lost to the sea? If you have, tell me if you think that anything capable of doing that could ever be kind and loving?”

Hongjoong bites his lip so hard he tastes iron in his mouth. The Treasure has had some rough experiences before, and he’s watched a few of his men fall prey to the sea with his own eyes, seen the way the survivors had grieved and mourned and cursed the seas. But still, you weren’t like that. You were different. You had to be-

All of a sudden, his father stumbles back a step, one hand pressed tight to his eye and face drawn in pain. Instinctively, Hongjoong steps forward, concern hanging from the tip of his tongue before he catches himself: his father might not be the villain he had made him out to be, but he certainly is not someone to be trusted just yet.

“Sorry, give me a moment.” His father says slowly, voice strained with pain. “The human body wasn’t meant to contain this sort of power, it’s been getting more and more unstable recently.” He coughs, and an unnatural mixture of both blood and clear water trickles from the corner of his mouth. Hongjoong swallows at the sight - it reminds him far too much of you and your disintegrating body. “I don’t have much time left to find the sea goddess. Hongjoong, please.”

His father is dying too? A weight lodges itself painfully in his belly, one that he didn’t even know was there. Hongjoong had never thought that he would feel sadness or even care about his father after his betrayal, but when being confronted with the thought of the one person he had cared about when he was a child really dying and leaving him forever...

He doesn’t want to admit this feeling.

The thought of it scares him.

He forces it down, gritting his teeth, burying his fingers in the soft red fur of his coat. Remember, he chants to himself desperately. Remember who you’re doing this for.

“Whether you live or die doesn’t matter to me now.” Hongjoong says, with as much harshness as he can muster, and watches raw pain flicker across his father’s face. “You’re not touching my crew. So take your armada with you and get lost before I decide to kill you where you stand.”

His father stares at him for a moment, before he sighs, head bowed forward in disappointment. For a moment, Hongjoong wonders if he might actually listen to his words and relent, but then when his father raises his head once more, Hongjoong is horrified to see both of his father’s eyes have gone dim. Instead of the green shade that perfectly mirrors his, all he sees now is the depths of some terrifying, unknown darkness.

“Then I have no choice but to resolve this my way.” His father’s voice drops to a harsh, low whisper, and in that instant the winds tear through the beach in an instant, so strong that he has to raise his hands to shield his face from the flying sand. The gales stir up the water near the beach, the waves crashing back and forth unnaturally as if moved by some invisible force, and Hongjoong turns to stare in horror at his father. The man who he once loved so much as a child steps forward with merciless eyes, and Hongjoong realises that he can’t move a single step as his father approaches him. “I apologize, Hongjoong. As a captain, I hope you understand.”

Is his father going to kill him? For getting in the way of his plans?

An icy cold feeling washes over his body, and his limbs feel like there are leaden weights holding him down, preventing him from moving. Run! His body’s instinct is to flee before the thing that is walking towards him right now, but his legs won’t seem to obey. His father steps closer and closer, until Hongjoong can feel the pure power radiating off him, and bites down on his lip so hard he tastes blood.

Move, run, lash out, anything!

But his father steps past him, and in that second the immense pressure is lifted off him, Hongjoong collapses to the ground, panting and trembling, while Wooyoung and Yeosang run to him to help him up. Wheezing, Hongjoong grits his teeth and shouts after the man he had once called his father.

“Aren’t you going to kill me?”

His father stills for a moment, almost hesitant, before he speaks once more.

“You may not believe this, Hongjoong.” He says, so quietly that the winds scream over it and the sound of falling rain near drown it out, but Hongjoong knows just exactly what he’s saying. “But I told you earlier, you are my son, whom I love. That, no matter which sides we’re on,” his father turns back to give him one last, final smile. “Is something that will never change. That is why I will never hurt you.”

Suddenly, the waves swirl and surge once again, water from the both the sky and sea clashing in the middle and sending water arcing through the air. Lightning flashing and tears the sky itself in half, the cry of the wind rising to a fevered scream, and Hongjoong feels some part of him deep within his soul twisting at the presence of something it has not felt since that day he was a child.

Just like that day from his memory so many years ago, the sea itself parts, whipping up in massive waves to make way for its only master, and Hongjoong can only stare as a being walks over the surface of the sea even as it writhes and churns beneath its feet.

It’s just like he remembers.

The wind tears his eyepatch away from his face, and his fingers come up to grip his blinded eye tightly as the storms roar overhead. That figure walking out of the storm overlaps with his memory, stained red with blood in his mind, wearing the face of the woman he’s come to know and love over all this time.

It’s you.

“Chin Hae.” The name falls from his lips without thought, and it feels like the first time he’s saying those words all over again, from the very first time he’d named you and taken you in as one of his own. Then he’s scrambling to his feet, trying to reach you while Wooyoung and Yeosang simply stare at you in sheer shock. “Chin Hae! What are you doing? It’s dangerous!”

As if you’ve heard his words somehow over the howling of the gale and storm, you look directly into his eyes - Hongjoong just knows. Then you smile slightly at him, but it’s a sad, resigned smile, and Hongjoong’s heart plunges into his chest.

No. You’re supposed to wait for him. You aren’t supposed to come out to meet him before he returns, in this manner.

“Chin Hae is here.” You say aloud, and the thunder echoes your words like a chant, a prayer. Your eyes burn with unearthly light, and for a moment, Hongjoong almost can’t recognise you at all. “What is it that you want with me, Commander Kim?”

Hongjoong can only watch as his father smiles, stone cold, and raises the dagger to point it straight at your chest.

“Finally, we meet again, sea goddess.”

[inkandpen22]

Time is Irrelevant (2/?): Vive La France

Pairing: Eleventh Doctor x Female!Reader 

Warnings: swearing, mention of death 

Word Count: 4.5k (she’s long lol sorry about it)

Part Summary: Y/N wakes up dazed and confused. From then on, things only get more confused as she starts to realize she’s in 18th century France with a strange man. 

Masterlist

I gradually open my eyes, my vision blurry at first. A bright light burns them and I feel as though I’m staring into the gates of Heaven. Then, the memory of what happened jolts me awake. Startled, I frantically scan my surroundings. I come to the horrifying conclusion that I’m no longer at the table in the student union. In fact, I have no clue where I am! I’m in a bedroom, on a bed with tall dark wood posts. The room looks too grand and vintage to be anywhere on campus. It’s baby blue walls and crown molding don’t exactly scream cinderblock dorm room. The furniture appears to be so detailed and too fragile to touch, which will be a problem because I woke up on the bed. Am I in a museum?

I stand up cautiously, afraid someone may barge in. I glance down and I see I’m in a white cotton nightgown. A grandma nightgown, seriously? How did I get here and why am I in grandma's pajamas? As I take in my appearance, I don’t see any injuries or bruising, that’s good. I feel alright, panicked, but alright. My brain is pounding against my skull. I can hear my mom now, ranting in my mind. She’d say, “don’t hurry to get up! You could have a concussion.” I rarely listen to her and I don’t plan on starting now.

I step closer to what appears to be a balcony and I peer out to get an idea of where I am. Leaning over the iron rail, I see a dirt road below. People crowd the streets, they maintain a loud banter. Their clothes, they’re odd. Wait, is that man wearing a white wig? Where the hell am I? A gold plated carriage goes by down the street and a man yells at the top of his lungs in what sounds to me as French. As I focus on the commotion, all I hear is French. I take note of the architecture of the surrounding buildings and it all is very French, specifically Parisian. I’m not an expert who has never been to France but I would say the architecture of Paris is pretty iconic. Wait no, this can’t be real! It couldn’t be possible in Paris! How could I possibly be in the United States one minute, then wake up in France? It’s not possible. My heart drops, I’ve been kidnapped and taken out of the country!

“Good! You’re awake!”

I jump at the sudden voice. When I whip around, I spot the strange man from before entering the room.

“Put this on,” he instructs, tossing me a gown nonchalantly. “You stand out like a lily in a field full of daisies.”

I take in his appearance. He’s decked out in colonial-era clothing like the cluster of people down below. My mind screams, reminding me that this is all ridiculous. There’s no way I’m in France and there must be a good reason as to why everyone is dressed as though we’re about to go eat some cake with Marie Antonette. I snickered lightly, baffled at the idea of any of this being real. I’m clearly still asleep.

“Y/N!” The strange professor snaps his fingers and I'm pulled from my thoughts. “Please, before we’re late!”

I snap out of the daze and remember that this man has kidnapped me. Chucking the dress onto the bed, I proceed to bark at him. “Where am I?! Where have you taken me?!” My voice progressively escaping me in screams.

He grins slyly, staring into my soul. “I believe you've already figured that out for yourself…”

I shake my head, laughing at what he’s suggesting. He must think I’m an idiot. He narrows his eyes at me, curious.

“Oh please,” I tease him. “You can’t possibly think I would believe any of this? I’m in college, not kindergarten! Now, let me go!” I start to approach the door but he steps in my way.

His fingers wrap around my forearm with a forceful grip. “Look Y/N, we don’t have time for this! You ARE indeed in France. You ARE in 1778! Now, get dressed! We can’t be late!”

I stare into his eyes as he shouts this nonsense to me. The miniature oceans that encompass them. They have this electricity about them that draws me in and I feel hypnotized. Yet, I must remain level headed if I plan on escaping and surviving this.

Aggressively, I yank my arm free. “Let go of me you psycho! Have you lost your mind? There’s no way-”

The professor wraps his arm around me and presses his free hand over my mouth. I scream for someone to help, but my words are muffled against his hand.

“But it is!” He argues, “I possess the ability to time travel! Okay! The Eye of Harmony, Rassilon's Star, it exists!”

Upon hearing his words, I stop fighting him, utterly stunned. His hands ease off of my face and release my arm. My chest rises and plummets at an inconsistent rate. There are very few people who speak of the star. It’s legend, ancient mythology, lost in history.

“But…” I struggle to find the words, “but that's not possible.” My volume has lost its touch. My words flowing out like little puffs of wind.

“But it is! Now, get dressed and I’ll explain everything!” He tells me, seemingly eager to clear the air.

I watch silently as he turns to leave abruptly. Does he drop the bombshell that he may have the most powerful stone in the world then goes to leave? Of course, he would.

As he walks away, he presses, “we have somewhere we need to be and soon!”

Processing the situation, I take matters into my own hands. “Will you just wait for a second?!”

Irritable, he crosses his arms, “what it is?”

“I believe I deserve some sort of explanation! Now! I’m not going anywhere with you until you give me some sort of explanation now!”

He huffs, rubbing his temple. “We’re in France! I need you in that dress! We have an appointment and running late! There’s your explanation! Now if you’ll please,” he gestures towards the gown on the bed.

Swallowing hard, I comprehend the fact that he won’t be so forthcoming with me. I’ve seen plenty of thrillers where a girl is kidnaped and she acts out or doesn’t do anything which leads to her demise. I always shout at the girls to play along until the right opportunity arises. For all I know, I’m somewhere close to school and he’s messing with my head. All I’m sure about is I have to make it home.

“1778 you claim?” I clarify as I pick up the dress on the bed. As I examine the attire, I’m reminded of how uncomfortable women dressed. “This should be interesting...” If I’m going to play along I’ll need the proper attire and this isn’t it. I huff, “I’ll need a corset, heels, shift, pannier-”

The professor waves his hands for me to quiet down. “Yes! Yes, I know! I’ll be sending Joséphine in to help you. Any further questions?”

I shake my head, still struggling to cope.

“Very well,” he bows his head. As soon as he appeared he disappears into the halls. As soon as the door shuts, I feel as though I’m on the verge of fainting. I stumble over to the balcony in search of an escape route. I may only have minutes before he returns.

“I must be dreaming,” I tell myself to remain sane.

He’s really taking this whole charade about time travel seriously. Apart of me wishes to believe what he’s saying is true, the part of me that loves history blindly. If I’m truly in 1778 Paris that would incredible. Yet, I know logically time travel is impossible. Except, according to legend, the Eye of Harmony is said to allow time travel. Of course, that’s just ancient mythology, folklore. There’s no one alive that’s seen the star.

I watch the people in the streets below in awe. It all seems so real, the wagons, women dressed in corsets, and men dressed like the Founding Fathers. He must’ve drugged me, that’s the only explanation. Suddenly, the door creaks behind me and I jump like a scared cat. A lady, whom I assume is Joséphine, enters the room.

“Bonsoir Madame,” she greets me with a curtsy.

“Bonsoir…” I mutter, terrified but trying to remain calm.

Joséphine offers me a reassuring smile. I’m guessing she’s about my age, perhaps a few years older but not much. She guides me over to the vanity gently. At first, I stay as still as a statue. I watch as she picks up a few containers on the table and skims the labels.

“Ah oui!” She blurts out, apparently, she’s found what she was looking for.

After she selects a brush from the jar, she prepares to start on my makeup but I stop her.

“I’m okay, really! I just-”

“Non, non, non,” she objects. “ce soir madame vous devez avoir l'air parfait!”

Great, so if this really is 1778 then I’m about to get a heavy dose of lead poisoning. This white powder she’s spreading on my face makes me look like Casper. I respect the bold fashion of this era but rosy cheeks, cherry lips, and silk white skin, not my best look.

Once I’m suffocating in my dress, she pushes me down into the chair in front of the vanity and roughly yanks my auburn hair up. I study in the mirror as she pins my hair down to my scalp and digs the pins into my head. How the hell am I supposed to balance this clump of hair on my head? It’s taller than my entire head.

“Ouch!” I bark.

“Pardon, Madame,” she apologizes softly.

After I appear the part, Joséphine leads me through the house. It’s beautiful. The detail in the crown modeling and art-like wallpaper are so unique. I gawk at the walls as we walk through each room. She leads the way through the double front doors to a carriage where I’m met by the strange professor.

“Merci,” I thank Joséphine, though the experience wasn’t the most enjoyable.

She bows her head and leaves to return inside. I approach the professor, who’s dressed in the traditional french male attire of the time, wig in all. For a moment, it takes my breath away. I read so many books and seen so many movies about the era but nothing as felt more real than this.

“Nice wig,” I tease a bit, stifling a giggle.

“Dido,” he jokes in return.

“My head feels ten pounds heavier,” I poke at the cotton ball on my head. “How do I balance it?”

“You’ll learn. Takes practice.” The professor chuckles then snap his fingers for the footman to open the door of the carriage. Gesturing toward the door, he allows me to enter first.

I swift my gaze toward our mode of transpiration. I’ve never seen an authentic 18th-century carriage of this magnitude. The gold frame and light baby blue fabric are luxurious. I can only imagine how much history is within this carriage, at least will be I suppose.

“Are you admiring it or afraid of it?” The professor chuckles beside me.

“It’s… I’ve never seen anything like it.”

I’m not saying I entirely believe him with his fairytales but nonetheless, this experience so far has been like passages from my textbooks. I can feel him staring at me as I examine the carriage. It’s all too remarkable for me to look away.

“I see Joséphine did your hair and makeup as well, good,” He states with a grin. “If we’ll be at court, you’ll need to look the part.”

Before I have the chance to question his meaning, he offers me his hand to help me into the carriage. I’m hesitant. After all, this dude did kidnap me. As for his reasoning, I’m still in the dark. All I know is, possibly, that I’m in an entirely different country and almost three hundred years in the past, so he claims. I have no idea who he is or why he has me here. Yet, for some strange reason, I find myself trusting him slightly and against my better judgment. It’s his eyes. Every time I fall into them my gut tells me to trust him.

The professor sits across from me and settles in. The footman shuts the door and the driver calls to the horses to go along.

“Court?” I interrogate him, “as in the royal court?”

“Yes, precisely,” he replies as if it makes perfect sense.

He must be bonkers! There is no way we could be on our way to Versailles during the era of the monarchy and dressed like this!

“Right, right…” I raise a brow, “and who is king exactly?”

He rubs his hands up and down his thighs nervously. “That’s where you come in!”

“Me?!”

Quite frankly some rulers were just plain crazy and were temperamental! Plus, the French and English were constantly at war during the 18th century! This isn’t the time to visit for peace and quiet.

He scoffs, leaning forward to keep his voice down. “That’s the reason you’re here Miss Historian! You’re in charge of knowing everything about every century we visit!”

I narrow my eyes, “every century? Last I checked I never agreed to travel across time with you?!”

If that’s even what we’re doing. If he expects me to go to another destination with him he’s sorely mistaken.

He grins, not believing me for a second. “Oh, so you much rather go home? Sit behind a desk instead of meeting the very people you’re studying?”

If any of this was true, he’d have a point. I’ll never grant him the satisfaction of admitting that.

I scoff, “fine! You said it was 1778, correct?”

“Yes, that’s right,” he answers quickly.

“Okay… ” I stare up at the ceiling to focus, reviewing my knowledge of the French monarchy. It appears in my mind like a timeline. I mumble, “1778…  that’s in the middle of the American Revolution which means it’s before the French Revolution so the king would be… oh my god!”

My hand flies up to my mouth. I can’t believe it! If this man is telling the truth, then we’re in quite the most interesting year.

His eyes widen in horror and he grips my hands between us. “What?! What is it?!”

“Louis XVI! Louis XVI is the king! Oh, this is too good! Marie freaking Antoinette! Seriously? I can’t believe this!” I squeal, jumping up and down in my seat uncontrollably, causing the carriage to rock.

A part of me is starting to fall for the man’s word, perhaps I really am in 1778. At least then I could actually meet Louis XVI. For a second, I felt myself believing wholeheartedly.

“Is he cruel?! Kind Hearted?! Best king France has ever had?!”

I laugh, has he never picked up a history book?

“Sir, have you never heard of Louis XVI before? He’s infamous! What about the French Revolution? I mean… if we really are where you say we are, we’re living in it!”

He pouts, peering at me like an offended child. “No actually, I have heard of him! I guess you could just say he’s after my time. I’m better acquainted with his father,” he adds in a mutter.

I scrunch my eyebrows, “after your time? How could he be after-”

He cuts me off, “forget it. I’ll explain at a better time. As for now, your job is to inform me of everything I need to know about the French court. I know how to handle royalty and the protocol. All I need is for you to help me with the background information on these individuals. Though all royals are superficially the same I have to gain their trust on a personal level. In exchange, I’ll help you play the part of a lady of the court.”

I huff as I readjust my skirt, somewhat offended. Simply because I wasn’t born an aristocrat with a stick up my butt doesn’t mean I don’t know how to act civilized.

“I know how to be a lady! I can curtsy and whatnot!”

He stifles a laugh, raising a brow. “Y/N, have you ever even met a royal?”

He’s right once again. In my defense, America isn’t exactly crawling with monarchs. We got rid of that whole issue centuries ago.

“No…” I timidly admit.

He has a point, which annoys me. I may have been taught table manners and proper etiquette by my grandmother growing up but her rules are nothing compared to a royal court’s. I would be walking into a lion’s den without Danny’s guidance.

“So then, do we have a deal?” He holds out his hand. A mischievous grin coats his lips.  

For all I know, I could be agreeing to anything. He could turn back on his word at any moment. I don’t trust him, not in the slightest. Yet, If I agree for the time being, it could buy me my freedom. I take a chance.

I shake his hand, “deal.”

His eyes widen, “almost forgot!”

He reaches into his frilly French jacket pocket and reveals a key. A standard old, metal key with a long string attached.

“You’ll be needing it.” He assures me as he shifts toward me and begins to put it around my neck.

“What is it?” I ask, still in awe.  

“A key…” He sasses.

“Ugh,” I roll my eyes, “obviously! I’m asking why do I need it?”

“It’s to my Tardis,” he states as though everyone has one.

“What the hell-”

The carriage jolts to a stop abruptly. Soon, the driver opens the door for us and offers his hand for assistance. My mind is still focused on the blast the professor just sent in my direction. I’m still stuck on his statement, he’s after my time. What did he mean by that? Then, I learn that magic is basically real, along with time-travel.

My train of thought is soon interrupted by the professor calling my name. I hadn’t noticed him climb out of the carriage I was so deep within myself. I accept the hand of the driver and step down out of the carriage. Many of them that are similar to our own are lined up single file. Danny offers me his arm which I take instantly. I gawk at the copper-colored palace with gold embellishments. I’ve always wanted to visit Versailles. I never would have guessed it would be in this setting. I imagined hundreds of tourists with their phones out, too occupied to enjoy the magnificence in front of them. Instead, I’m surrounded by men in bright colored breeches and women wearing wigs that could reach the heavens.

“Are you alright?” he peers down at me, worried.

“Yes, it’s just… I’ve never seen anything like it,” I admit, breathlessly.  

Men and women dressed in extravagant jewels and clothes. Only the highest social figures are gawking at the palace, arm in arm.

“It’s the king’s twenty-fourth birthday ball,” he informs me as we stroll into the palace doors behind various couples of the time.

My pulse must be through the roof I’m so anxious. My mind is racing. Danny is putting on a convincing show that we belong here. He has is his role well-rehearsed it appears.

“Stay close,” he instructs, searching the entrance hall.

I grip his arm, halting before we go in.

“What is it?” The man questions.

“What your name?” I comprehend I’ve never learned it. With everything going on, there was never a proper moment. Now, I realize there will never be.

“I’m the Doctor,” he answers with a sly grin.

“’ The Doctor?’ Well, I’m sorry to break it to you but there’s more than just one doctor in the world,” I laugh, this man can’t be serious.

“No,” he huffs, “my name is Doctor. I’m a... you know what, never mind. I’ll-”

“You’ll explain later,” I finish.

“Look at you catching on quickly,” he compliments and pinches my cheek. I swat his hand away with a frown. Geez, he’s annoying. He’s like the Energizer bunny in human form.

“Let’s head inside,” he instructs, guiding me along.

I adjust my skirt briefly, correcting any wrinkles from the ride here. He clears his throat and my eyes meet him as he gestures toward the ceiling with a smirk. It takes every cell of my being and a lot of self-control to not let my jaw drop. Absentmindedly, my arm falls from the Doctor as he continues to walk down the Hall of Mirrors and leaves me in awe of the architecture. I slowly come to a stop as I become engrossed in the details.

It suddenly hits me like a pile of bricks, this is all real. Everything the Doctor has said must be true. I went along with his word but now I truly believe it. The hand-painted ceiling, the solid gold statues that reflect in the mirrors, the marble walls surrounding them, and the crystal chandeliers that line the grand hall. The remaining light of the setting sun pours in through the windows and bounces off the floor. There is no possible way Versailles could be like this in modern times, it’s far too untouched and pristine. This means I’m honestly, without a doubt, in the year 1778. My heart feels as though it’s plummeted to my stomach. Oh my God, this is remarkable! This is every history lover’s dream! I’m living out my textbooks. I’m experiencing history first hand!

It must’ve taken the Doctor very little time to notice my absence. He calmly approaches me, visibly aware of my clear baffled state. I believe my reaction is valid considering the circumstances.

He whispers, “is it what you imagined based on your history books?”

I shake my head, nearly speechless. All I can do is gawk at everyone and everything around me. “It’s beyond anything I could imagine!” I finally break my attention away from the exquisite art to meet his gaze. “I believe you,” I confess to him.

Slight grin forms on the edge of his lips and his eyes fall to the floor with a slight chuckle. “I always knew you would…” He mutters under his breath.

Offering me his arm, he escorts me into a crowded ballroom. The Doctor must know the layout of the palace quite well unless he’s simply following the flow of the crowd. An orchestra plays in the background as drinks are passed around by servants with trays. I spin around slowly, staring up at the ceiling and chandeliers. All of the stories in these walls, the royals that have lived here, what will become of this palace, my head is spinning as I review the details. The music comes to a sudden halt along with the movement and banter in the room. All attention turns toward the double doors across the ballroom as they swing open. People shuffle closer, peering over each other’s heads to sneak a peek. Trumpets play a melody familiar to anyone, the signal of the King and Queen entering the room. Through the space between heads, I can see glimpses of the young notorious couple. Marie Antoinette’s tall and decorated wig, her pale and porcelain-like skin, her extraordinary gown, all perfect. The crowd disburses and form their miniature groups again. The Doctor snatches two champagne flutes from a passing tray and hands one to me.

“Doctor,” I whisper to him cautiously, in case of prying ears. “Why are we here? Don’t get me wrong, I’m ecstatic but I don’t understand the purpose?”

He pulls me aside behind one of the pillars for some privacy. He scans the room to make sure no one is watching us. His actions have me wondering if our purpose here could put us in danger.

“How much do you know about the monarchs and the palace itself?”

My brows rise in astonishment, I start to question myself on how he doesn’t find the answer obvious by now. I spent a whole semester studying King Louis XVI, Marie Antoinette, the French Revolution, and Versailles alone. Of course, that doesn’t make me an expert by any means but I would say I’m well-read.

He catches on to my sass and dismisses it. “Fine, fine fine, so you know a lot! Tell me more please!”

I nod, gathering the important bits from memory to summarize it all. To condense all of this history into such a brief yet crucial conversation is anything but fun.

“Okay well, I think the most important fact we have to consider is currently Her Majesty is pregnant with the couple’s first child. The baby will be a girl. Her name will be Marie-Thérèse-Charlotte de Bourbon. The couple will attempt to have more children, to have a male heir, but none will live past the age of eleven. The French Revolution won’t begin for another ten years. Both the King and the Queen will lose their lives, sadly, along with many members of the aristocracy. Then, Napoleon will become emperor. As for Versailles, it was completed in 1668 for King Louis XIV. During the revolution basically, everything will be taken from here. In modern times, the 21st century, most of it will be returned. That’s a summary of some basic information.”

The Doctor gawks at me, “you know all of this by heart? You wonderful little human. How do you memorize it all?”

I shrug, glancing in the direction of where I last saw the royal couple. “I suppose I’ve always cared so much about these people and their stories that it never really leaves me.”

The unfamiliar faces in this room are forming the world I must live in hundreds of years from now and none of them know it. The world will be completely altered by the end of the century. Every single person in this room is set to believe their roles here are unwavering. Little do they know that in less than a decade, all of it will be gone, nothing but a memory.

“I forgot to mention,” The Doctor mumbles and holds up the key that has slipped beneath the front of my dress. “Never lose it. Draw as little attention to it as possible. While we’re here, your job is to play Miss Know-it-all and mine is to find this journal.”

We’re interrupted by the grandfather clock when it dings in the corner. The Doctor’s head whips over in its direction, he checks the time.

“I have to go,” he informs me in a rush.

“But I-” I start, having a million questions.

“I’ll be back. Blend into the crowd! We’ll leave as soon as possible,” he instructs before disappearing into the cluster of people.

I stand awkwardly alone, afraid to move the slightest step. I’m surrounded by a bunch of dead people. Well, they’re not dead now, but when I’m alive they will be. I’m Versailles, holy shit! And I’m not even on a tourist trip to Versailles, no I’m at a ball in the Revolution Era! I would jump up and down squealing but I doubt that’s allowed. Instead, I’ll just smile to myself like an idiot and sip on this champagne.

__________________

Masterlist

[fictionalabyss]

Just try to relax.

Pairing : Winchesters & F!Reader

Word count : 1,303

Written for : @spnfluffbingo​​

Square : Meeting at the airport.

Warnings : Season 1 episode 4 - demon possession, fear of flying, fear of death, plane going down.

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

SPN Fluff bingo 2020 Masterlist.

“You’re joking, right?”

“Do I look like I’m joking!?”

You didn’t even bother glancing over to the two guys arguing in the airport. You were anxious enough as it was, hands shaking. You hated flying. Hated it.

“Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?”

“Alright, uh, I’ll go. I’ll do this one on my own.”

“What? Are you nuts? You said it yourself-”

You tuned them out, tuned everyone out and closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. The droning on of the airport disappeared as you centered yourself and worked yourself up to do the one thing you were terrified of doing. Walking to the gate.

“Hey, you okay?”  You opened your eyes to see one of the guys now in front of you. You gave him the smallest nod, but you could tell from his face he didn’t believe it. “You sure? You don’t look-”

“I’m fine.”

“Nervous flyer?”

“Terrified, actually.” you gave him an awkward chuckle. “Silly, right?”

“Perfectly normal.” You glanced over to the other man who’d spoken, giving you an understanding look. “Flying is bullshit.”

“Agreed.”

“Hey, it’s not that bad.” The man in front of you spoke again. “Get in, buckle up, and before you know it, you’re getting off again.” He gave you a reassuring smile. “You’ll be okay. It’ll be okay.” There was so much sincerity in his face you believed him.

“I get a 'suck it up' and she gets a ‘it’ll all be okay’!?”

“She’s not my brother, Dean.”

“Whatever.” ‘Dean’ shoved the man in front of you. “Just get the damn tickets so we can get this over with.”

They parted ways, but before he could get far, you stopped the guy who’d tried reassuring you. “Hey!” He turned. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He smiled at you. “You’ll be alright. Promise.” You returned his smile and gave him a nod.

You were anxiously bouncing your leg as you sat in your seat, waiting to take off, eyes going out the window at the tarmac below. Hearing familiar voices, you looked up and were surprised to see them. As soon as they noticed you looking at them, they seemed to freeze.

“You’re on this flight?” he asked, a touch of panic in his face.

“Yeah.. I didn’t know you would be too..”

He looked to Dean behind him, then back at you. “Guess we’re aisle mates.” he gave you a reserved smile before he started forward again, and got into the seat right next to you, Dean dropping into the seat on the aisle.

“Two nervous flyers to deal with, lucky you.” you teased him, trying to lighten the mood and push back your fears.

“Yeah.. lucky me.”

Your smile faded at that and you turned away to look out the window again. Looks like you’ll be getting through this on your own. Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your iPod and put in headphones.

“Just try to relax.”

“Just try to shut up.” Dean snapped back, right before music kicked in and filled your ears.

Dean had gotten up and wandered around a few times. Sam had also gotten up. You wondered what they were doing. Every time they moved around a lot it made you nervous. So did the quiet whispers they shared. Something was wrong, you knew it.

They’d gone back to talk to a stewardess, then she’d come out and got the copilot. What the hell was happening, were they hijackers!? Was that way he’d looked panicked to see you on the flight? You could ID them? You glanced back to see the stewardess now standing nervously outside the closed curtain, the fear she felt evident on her face.

Others started to look back as grunts were heard coming from the other side of the curtain. Then, it got quiet. Scary quiet. Everyone who’d been looking back suddenly turned back around. But not you. Something still didn’t feel right.

The curtain opened, Sam starting to come out, and then suddenly it felt like you were falling. Screams of panic sounded all around you as the cabin went dark. Someone who’d been walking back from the bathroom fell into a seat while others scrambled to get buckled back in. Fear gripped you as you looked around. Items were flying around, a page from someone's newspaper flew around, hitting you in the face before disappearing somewhere behind you.

The screams, the panic, it was never ending. It hadn’t even registered yet that you were screaming along with them as the plane plummeted towards the ground.

This was it.

You were going to die.

And as quick as it started, it stopped. The plane stopped falling, people stopped screaming. Everyone was looking around, checking on the people around them. You were shaking, you couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t look around, couldn’t say a word. The fear was still very much there, gripping you tight.

“Hey..” You jumped feeling a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s over.” You looked over to find him back in his seat, flustered and ruffled, but there. “You’re safe now.” Next thing you knew, you were crying, sobbing and shaking, and he wrapped his arms around you. “It’s okay.”

“She okay, Sam?”

“I think she’s in shock.” His hand rubbed up and down your back as you cried against him.

“Want me to hum you some Metallica? Usually calms me down.”

“She doesn’t need Metallica, Dean.”

“Hey, everyone loves Metallica, okay?”

“Actually…” you glanced up from against Sam. “Do you know Astronomy?”

Dean scoffed. “Do I know Astronomy. Who do you think you’re talking to? Blue Oyster Cult, or Metallica cover?” he smiled.

Feds were everywhere, talking to everyone. The plane had turned around and headed back to land and as soon as you could, you had hurried off and away from the crowd for some quiet.

“Hey, you gonna be okay?”

Looking up, you found Sam and Dean in front of you. “No.” You let out a huff of a laugh. “I still need to get to where I was headed.” you pointed out.

They glanced at each other. “Want a ride?” Sam asked.

“What?”

“Dean can drive you.”

“Nice of you to offer up my services, douche.” Dean shot.

“Come on, Dean. You getting back on a plane?”

“Hell no. Never again.”

“Exactly.” Sam motioned to you, and Dean rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, alright. We’ll give you a ride. You got decent taste in music, maybe I’ll let you ride shotgun.”

“Hey!”  Dean just smiled at his brother.

“You guys don’t need to, really. I’ll- I’ll grab a bus, or-”

“No, come on. We gotta stop in and see someone but we can swing the car around and grab you near taxi pick up. Cool?”

You gave him a nod, and stood up. “I wonder what happened on that flight anyways.. What were you two doing?”

They looked at each other again instead of answering. Then they looked at you. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got nothing but time, apparently.”

Dean nodded, didn’t seem like he was going to answer you, until he said “Demon possession.”

You laughed at that, glancing from him to Sam then back, smile fading when you noticed they weren’t laughing. “You’re- you’re joking, right? You have to be.. Demons aren’t real, they-” The seriousness on their face made you swallow. “You’re serious.”

“Mhm. Possessed the co-pilot to kill everyone on board.”

“I’m never getting on a fucking plane again. If a demon is going to kill me it's going to do it on the damn ground.” you muttered more to yourself than anything, but that, that made Dean laugh.

“You and me both, princess.” with that, he put an arm around your shoulders and started walking away from the seat he’d found you in. “You got luggage to grab?”

*If you like this, please consider supporting my work*

Tagging :  Dean - @akshi8278​  @adoptdontshoppets​   @evyiione​ @karikatz12481​ @idksupernatural​

Sam -  @evyiione​

SPN -  @sandlee44​  @just-another-busy-fangirl​  @mrswhozeewhatsis​   @deanandsamsbitch​  @deans-baby-momma​  @thebescht​ @67-chevy-baby​ @supraveng​   @musiclovinchic93​ @holyfuckloueh​  @ksgeekgirl​   @hobby27​ @maddiepants​  @roxyspearing​ @onethirstyunicorn​    @fandom-princess-forevermore​     @kalesrebellion​   @deanwanddamons​   @thoughts-and-funnies​

All tags - @sorenmarie87​ @artemisthebadger​ @winchesterprincessbride​ @iflostreturntosteverogers​ @akfonkin​ @rebelminxy​ @foxyjwls007​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @shaelyn102​ @supernaturalenchanted​  @kazkingdom​   @babypink224221​  @emoryhemsworth​    @ilovefanfic86​  @pie-with-hunters​   @anaelsbrunette​ @lazinessisalliknow​  @feelmyroarrrr​  @letsdisneythings​   @cdwmtjb8​   @notyourtypicalrose​  @xostephanie​ @ilovedeanspie​ @defenderrosetyler​ @amandamdiehl​

[yes-i-would-like-to-be-stabbed]

Slashers Meeting Their S/O For the First Time pt. 2

Heyyyy! So this is the second part to @joceymoo 's request! This includes Bubba, Harry, and Jesse.

Warning: Mentions of abuse, blood, gore, murder, death, Bubba being a cutie, etc.

****************************************

Bubba: It had been so long since you've seen your old friend, Paul Sawyer. He had been sent off to war and you had just recently got a letter from him telling you he had finally come home and that he and the family wanted to see you. Paul was a bit of weirdo and kinda older than you, but you loved him regardless. You were very excited to see him again.

Arriving at the old farm brought back many memories. It wasn't too different than it used to be. You only hoped Paul stayed the same after the war. You knew the war could take its toll on someone. Knocking on the door, you waited .01 second before someone opened the door. Standing in front of you was a man who was wearing some wacky colorful clothes and a...bono wig??? The person smiled and you immediately recognized it. Paul?!?! What in the fresh fuck happened to him?! You both stood there staring at eachother before you practically jumped on him, crying and babbling about how you missed him. Paul was a bit taken back but hugged back nonetheless. After calming down, Paul took you into the living room were Drayton and Nubbins sat. You excitedly greeted them and you all began talking about what had been going on.

You had learned alot. Paul actually goes by Chop Top now because well...his top was chopped and he's got a metal plate. You cried when you saw the damage the war caused him. He was a bit freaky and weirder than normal, but he was still your goofy music loving weirdo. You also learned that Drayton still owned the gas station and Nubbins had picked up photography. Before you could ask anything else, another presence entered the room. Looking over in the doorway was a large, wide man who sipped on a glass of ice tea. You locked eyes and all over a sudden you were picked up and swung around with glee. The man was yelled at to let you go and with a whine the man set you down. Coming out of the daze of being swung around, you looked up at the man to realise, it was Bubba. Your eyes widened as they roamed over his large form. He had really grown since the last time you saw him. He had a weird Leather mask on, but you thought it made blend into the weird and strange family even more.

Drayton askes if you wanted to stay for dinner to which you agreed. You looked up at Bubba whom was already looking at you. He looked a bit sheepish and offered a crooked smile to you. You smiled back and thought you might just want to stay a bit longer than just dinner. Maybe forever.....

(And no they didn't eat you for dinner 😂)

Harry: Okay so maybe your friends were dicks. They were pretty intimidating when they wanted to be and the fact they had blackmail on you didn't help. They dared you to stay the night in the dreaded mines. You knew about Harry Warden because honestly who didn't hear of the guy who went crazy and killed everyone.

Anyway you were really afraid that you were gonna die tonight as you wondered further into the mine, the sounds of your friends heckling getting lower and lower until it was complete silence. You really hoped that you could just find somewhere nice and stay there until morning came. Unfortunately, unknown to you, you were being watched and tonight might just be your last.

After walking more you found a small table and chair, they weren't too uncommon in the mines. This one just seemed more sturdy than the other ones you found. Deciding that this was better than sitting on the dirty ground, you plopped yourself in the chair and tried to relax as best you could. Surprisingly you fell asleep, but loud sound snapped you out of you dreams.

Startled you bolt up and find that you had accidentally tipped over the small table in front of you over. Holding your hand over your heart, you calmed yourself down. You sighed, yawned, and stretched before looking around. You thought of Harry Warden and all the neglect he and the miners went through while they worked down here. You apologized to Harry via the dark for the neglect he went through and told the darkness that you would be angry too if it happened to you (just maybe not as murderous as he was though lmao).

After your heart to heart with the dark, you tried to settle in and sleep some more but it wasn't happening. You stood up and popped your back. A loud clang forced you to whip around. A pickaxe was slammed into the side of cave and a figure wearing a gas mask came out of the darkness. Terrified you screamed and scrambled away. You ran for a while but he still had a steady pace with you. You were kinda hoping this was a sick prank by own of your friends, but after he almost sunk his pickaxe into your head, you decided it wasn't.

You finally made it to a secluded spot, hoping you finally got away from him. He found you though, and followed you into the little crevice you were in. You, however, accidentally backed up into a support beam that was very close to breaking away. And when you bumped it, the horrible sound of the wood break made your heart plummet in your chest.

You woke up with a start. You sucked in each breathe like it was your last and looked around. You were outside the mind. You grabbed your forehead and rocked back and forth thinking you had a terrible dream and your friends left you. However, you noticed a small paper and picked it up. Inside was a heart drawn in what appeared to be coal. You smiled slightly when you realised Harry had saved you. Maybe the mines weren't so bad after all.

Jesse: Being in HickTown, USA wouldn't be horrible had you not lived with your abusive guardian. They were really verbally abusive and sometimes physically abusive when they were intoxicated. You knew it was wrong, but you couldn't exactly do much about it. You had no where to go and your guardian knew that.

They never worked an honest day in their life. They gained money on other's misfortunes and stole items just to pawn them off. They didn't care if it was your grandma's cane, if it made them money they'd take it. And seeing that they were a wanted criminal, you were constantly moving alot. Your current home was in the small town of Wolfpine, Maine. It was a pretty town with lots of trees and pretty scenery, but you knew you weren't here for the landscape. Apparently, there was an abandoned sawmill not too far from the town that hadn't been touched in years due to the rumors around it. You wanted to research it and came across some articles that a woman killed her husband and daughter and their spirits haunt the mill. Anyone who steps foot there apparently disappears and is never heard from again.

You tried telling you guardian, but they told you to shut the hell up and that they were only scary stories the locals told to keep people away from all the vaulable equipment. Driving down a dirt road you guys came across multiple no trespassing signs, but your guardian didn't care. They continued on through despite all of warnings. You on the other hand were gettinf a more intense feeling of dread as you drove deeper and deeper into the woods.

After a few more moments of driving, you finally entered a driveway. A broken sign off to the side that read "Owen's Sawmill". You really didn't want to be here but you had no choice. You and your guardian exited the car and they began to walk around. You watched as they occasionally pulled a flask out of their jacket and took a gulpful of liquid. Great.

After searching around, you both finally came across a house. It was in weirdly good condition for the amount of time this place had been abandoned. You knew something wasn't right. Your guardian however was looking for anything they could get their flithy hands on. You just wanted to look around and stumbled upon an old trunk of photos and trinkets. You found pictures of a family that you recognized. They were the same photos in the artical you read about. You sey the pictures back inside and found some random keepsakes the family kept. Eventually your guardian made their way over to you, and said to take the trinkets because they might be vaulable. You refused and they began to get angry. You refused again and they began arguing with you. In the midst of the arguing, something must have set them off because they ended up slapping you. Hard. Tears weld up in your eyes as you held your cheek. You slid against the wall behind you and tried to slink away. They were about to yell at you again, when an axe flew from the door behind you and it slammed into the back of their skull. You scream as large figure enters the house. Your heart is hammering and you're feeling lightheaded. The figure gets closer and closer before you feel yourself be picked up. You could barely open your eyes before you passed but you swore you saw a long scar over the figure's eye...

*****************************

Here it is finally done!

(Sorry if Bubba's kinda sucks ://)

Hope you liked it!

Tags:

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@cantaloupe-pants

@joceymoo

@ratatatattatatatta

@internetgaylord69

@heksesang

@specyandroid

@lolthisusernameistaken

@old-grimace

@slasher-piss

@famousdevils

@queen-of-clubs-and-pans

@drunkenrawmen

[vivipixels-notepad]

Desperation for A Dream, part 1

SFW

CW’s

Strange Reality

Falling 70+ feet (No injury)

Embarrassed in front of a crowd

Light themes of horror

Abrupt ending

Aes seldom dreamt. When she did, it was usually elaborate blueprints, which were highly boring to explore. But tonight, tonight was different. Tonight, she was speechless. She stood on a path made of polished, white granite cobble. Emerald waters lapped at the edges of the path, gently rushing in. The path led to a large wall, constructed some red stone. A large moon hung in the star speckled sky. Aes realized she was holding a lantern, which was lit with a blue flame. She held it aloft, and saw the spectral images of thousands of other people, walking this path. She took a breath in, and started to walk.

“You’re finally hear, dear friend.”

Aes jumped. She began to look around wildly.

“Hehe, you’ll not see me like that. The lantern, I’m in the lantern.”

She looked into the lantern. The flame itself was speaking.

“Hello! Hi!”

The fire pulsed warmly as it spoke. It’s voice was cheerful, feminine, and softly doubled over itself.

“Greetings! I am a fragment of Verlatiir’s Guiding Light. I’m your fragment. You are standing outside the city of Verlatiir, The Realm of Those Who Slumber. I’m more or less your guide.”

“Where.. where am I? How’d I get here?”

“I just told you, you’re outside Verlatiir! The Land of Lights? The City of Colors? The Great and Wonderous Dream Shared by All People? Any of these ring a bell?”

Aes shook her head.

“I’ll explain it the long way then. Magic magic shared dream demiplane magic magic.”

Aes scowled.

“That’s the long way?”

“I omitted most of the details. You’re in a shared, living dream, that exists within a demiplane, ruled by the Council of Sevens in their Stone Spires.”

“Okay, well this is a lot to take in. I assume that’s why you’re here.”

“Yep!” The flame chirped happily.

“Uh... do you have a name?”

“I... don’t.”

“Would you like one?”

“Yes, but remember.. names are powerful.”

“Names are powerful?”

“Yeah! Like.. if someone knows your true name, they have power over you. So me letting you name me is me giving you power over me. Remember that, and treat me fairly.”

“Oh, okay. Uh... I’ll name you... Lumetta?”

“Lumetta the what? Or the who? My name isn’t complete. All the names here have some kind of... descriptor.”

“Um... Lumetta who Lights The Way?”

The flame was silent for a brief moment.

“I really like it, Aes, Builder of Paths.”

A shiver went down her spine.

“Now, lets get you into Verlatiir!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took her much longer to approach the great walls of the city than she was expecting. All the while, Lumetta was explaining the intricacies of Verlatiir. For example, it’s illegal to drink the water.

“Do not drink the waters of Verlatiir,” Lumetta warned, “It reveals that which the eye cannot see, the ear cannot hear, the skin cannot touch, the nose cannot smell, the tongue cannot taste, and the mind cannot comprehend.”

“So it’s some kind of hallucinogen?”

“No no, my dear Aes! The things you would see are not hallucinations. You would wish they were. You will not get thirsty here, but your thirst for knowledge would be your downfall. Some people bottle it, and bring it back with them, hoping to return here. It doesn’t work, Absynthe is poisonous.”

“Ohhkay then.”

“You also can’t feel physical pain here. If you do, at any point, actually get hurt, run. The things that can hurt you here are highly dangerous, and can kill you.”

“That’s... wonderful.”

“Don’t worry, those things aren’t *supposed* to be here, so you’ll be fine!”

The gates to the city were open. The white granite cobbles continued into the city, melding into the white paths. She hesitated to continue when she saw the stream of people, seemingly appearing from the threshold.

“Why are you stopping, we’re almost there!”

“I.. crowds make me nervous.”

“It’s okay, I’m here, I’m with you, you can’t loose me. Most people won’t even be able to see me, let alone take me from you.”

Aes took in a deep breath, and walked though the gate. Reality subtly shifted. The sounds and smells of the city assailed her all at once, colors brightened, the very air became charged. It was overwhelming, and Aes fell against a nearby wall.

“Are you alright?” Lumetta seemed to press against the glass of her square lantern.

“It’s... a bit much.” Slowly, Aes got used to it. Or the sensations died down. She was thankful for it, which ever way it happened. A few passers by had turned to look at her on their way into the city. Not a single one was human. She stood upright, and shakily kept walking. Aes marveled at the site of the city itself. The outer walls seemed to be about seven stories tall.

“Uh.. Lumetta, where do I go?”

People pushed past Aes, who simply stood, dumbfounded. The city looked vaguely medieval, large stone walls on either side of the street. From the gate, one could walk left or right, as another large wall stood not far from the entrance.

“Anywhere you want!”

“That.. doesn’t help. Can I get off this street please, it too crowded.”

“There’s an alley on your left. Duck in there, I’ll tell you a secret.”

Aes quickly made her way off the busy street, into a narrow alleyway.

“Alright, what is it?”

“The streets are too cluttered for you, right? Well, why not traverse somewhere less full of people?”

“What are you suggesting?”

“Flying, silly! Physics are malleable here!”

“This place is a shared dream, right? So... we’re not playing by normal rules.”

“Exactly! Just... sorta will yourself to do it!”

Aes closed her eyes, and focused on the distant sensation of gliding through the air. She imagined herself slowly rising up, away from the crowds, past rooftops.

“It’s working!”

Aes opened her eyes, and was shocked to actually be floating off the ground. She was nearing the top of the outer wall, and the sight of that caught her so off guard, she lost her focus. Aes began to plummet back to the ground. She couldn’t tell if she was screaming, the air rushing past her head drowned out all noise. Lumetta had said that nothing could hurt her, so on some level, she knew this wasn’t instant death. But it was the fear of not knowing what it would feel like that terrified her to her core. Almost as quickly as she had taken off, she came crashing back down with a meaty thud.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Remarkably, Aes never lost consciousness, and managed to keep a grip on her lantern. She did, however, draw a crowd. Flying wasn’t illegal, and she had broken no laws. But the guards still showed up, because of the screaming. Aes hadn’t moved out of embarrassment, but some thought she was dead. Because of this, no one dared get close. If something killed her, it might still be over her body. It was a solid ten minutes before some stepped forth. A pale woman in a white dress, with a red sash. She was in a huff, upset with the goings ons of the day. This incident did not help, and frankly made her quite angry. Fools who cannot keep their cool should not try to do something they cannot handle. She briskly walked over to scene, grabbed the body by the scruff, and hoisted Aes to her feet.

“Would you *please* stop making a scene! You’re beginning to attract the attention of the Seven!”

Aes, trembling, with ears folded over her face, squeaked out a weak, “Sorry.”

The crowd dispersed quickly, the person who fell was alive, and the Seven were watching. No need to linger. The woman in the white kept a hold of Aes.

“Just what do you think you’re doing!? You’re in the city for not even five minutes, and you go and cause a ruckus! Why, I ought to bring you straight up to the Court my damn self! I should... wait.. are you.. crying?”

She turned Aes to face her, revealing streams of tears running down her cheeks.

“Hey, I-I didn’t mean to-you should really-uh-hey, can you please stop crying.”

Aes did her best to regain composure, apologizing between sobs. Eventually, the woman set her back down, and knelt beside her.

“Look, I didn’t mean to come off so strong on ya. Its been a rough day, and well, I’m sure you know how it feels to deal with one incident after another.”

Aes slowly nodded. One of the nearby guards let out a small laugh.

“Is the Captain of the Ruby Guard going soft?”

The woman in white rose to her feet, and grabbed the guard’s shoulder.

“You mistake compassion for weakness, perhaps I should have the Seven review the tenants of our order with you.”

The guard stiffened up.

“Apologies ma’am, that won’t be necessary.”

“Good.” She turned back to Aes, and held out a hand, “My name is Sylvia, what’s yours?”

“Aes.” She took Sylvia’s hand, and pulled herself to her feet.

“Well, Aes, as long as you don’t go causing any more scenes, I’m sure we’ll get along just fine. Is there anything else you need? Directions, advice, newcomer’s welcome?”

“I.. I wouldn’t mind some general directions.”

“The city is separated into four districts, along the four main gates, with the Court of Sevens in the center. What is actually in each district varies wildly, but they’re separated for organizational purposes. Welcome to Verlatiir.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The city was a blur beneath her, as she soared through the air. Aes clutched her lantern, and focused solely on the feeling of the wind.

“I told you you’d get the hang of it!” Lumetta chirped happily.

She was right, it wasn’t very difficult. Aes wanted to throw in the towel after the first attempt, but Lumetta encouraged her to try again. And again. And again. After two hours, she was finally flying. Aes slowed down, bringing herself to a hover.

“So.. what now, Lumetta?”

“Well, I figured we get you some currency, and find a nice souvenir for when you wake.”

“Oh.. right. I have to wake up at some point, don’t I?”

“You don’t want to, do you?”

“This place is so.. beautiful. And strange. And I want to explore more of it. But I don’t want to leave.”

“It’s okay, most people are like that the first time. Everything will be right here when you return, I promise.”

Aes hugged the lantern.

“Okay. Where do we go to get whatever passes as money here?”

“Well... you can do a couple of things. I assume you don’t have any memories you want to get rid of. In that case, you can more or less rent some out.”

“Rent out my memories?”

“Yeah, like, let other people experience them. I know of a place, let me lead you there. We’re actually pretty close.”

The lantern began to pull Aes forward, then down into an alleyway. Lumetta was right, they were practically just above it. The sign over the door depicted a small crystal, sitting in a glass of wine.

“Go on, get in there.”

Aes hesitated briefly, before grabbing the handle, and pushing her way inside.

The room wasn’t amazingly large. It looked a lot like a tavern, with wall sconces, a hearth, a bar, and a number of patrons in various states of consciousness. Soft string music flowed through the room.

“Welcome to the Merry Glass, are you giving or taking?” The young man behind the bar called to Aes as she walked in.

“Um. Giving?” She approached the bar, and hopped onto a stool.

“Great! I haven’t seen your face before, so I’ll explain our rates. You get one pouch when you first drop off your desired memory, of course, you also get however much it’s worth, but you also get another pouch per person that uses it. There are no limits on what you can and can’t leave with us, and you can have it back whenever you wish. Here is a small ‘contract’ with more detail on your protections as a renter to the Merry Glass, as well as a more detailed explanation on rates.”

Aes’s head felt like it was spinning.

“This is.. uh. A lot.”

She set her lantern down next to it. Lumetta cleated her throat.

“Here, I’ll explain it for you...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All told, the paperwork only took thirty minutes. The explanation was slightly longer, but Aes understood it all after Lumetta had broken it down for her. The last thing left to do was to choose a memory to leave behind. The empty, quartz-like crystal sat before her.

“I think I know which one I want to do.”

“Great!” Lumetta exclaimed, “You don’t have to say specifically what it is, all you have to do is picture it in your mind, and put your hand on that little crystal there.”

Aes put her hand on the crystal. It was no bigger than a quarter. She closed her eyes, and remembered. Remembered the first time she had worn the collar she made for Dizzy to test. The pleasure swirled up inside her again, as she relived those blissful moments. They faded as quickly as they appeared, until the memory was over. Aes opened her eyes, face cherry red.

“That’s... that’s going to be a popular one,” the barkeep said, picking up the crystal. He put it on a golden scale, and began adding small, brown leather pouches to the opposite side. It took ten pouches to balance it out. The barkeep coughed. “Wow, okay, damn.” He picked up the now pink crystal, and set it in a box, with Aes’s name on it. Then, he scooped up the pouches, and handed them to Aes. “You uh, you got some expensive memories. Don’t come back too soon, this little thing might just become a hot commodity.”

“Um.. okay.”

Aes picked up the pouches, and left. They were strangely heavy.

“What’s in these pouches, Lumetta?”

“Refined dream dust!”

“Oh.”

“Yep! Sometimes it just kinda... shows up here. It’s basically gold dust. Try not to think about that too much. Anyway, now it’s time to get you a little somethin’ somethin’! There’s a trinket shop further down the alley to your left.”

Aes cautiously followed Lumetta’s instructions. She was hesitant around alleyways, as she had a small history of getting pulled into them. Her ears were sitting straight up. She was in the verge of tripping her fight-or-flight response.

“..es..” a whisper found it’s way to her ears.

She stiffened.

“..aes..”

Her face went pale. Someone was near.

“..what’s a lamp-lighter like yourself doing here..”

Lumetta seemed to dim, almost hiding.

“Wh-who are you? How do you know my name?” She called out.

The voice responded with laughter, and in a sing-song voice, called out, “..little lone lamp-lighter, lost and languishing.. why don’t you give me that little light of yours?”

A spindly, inky black hand reached out from in front of her. She felt another hand on her shoulder.

Aes screamed.

[echoes-of-the-clockwork]

Book Two: Famine (Prompto x Reader) Chapter Thirteen

(Y/n) felt her body plummeting as she was dragged down the hole after being released by Prompto and Gladio. She felt the rush of the wind whip through her golden locks and kiss her skin as the Gashadokuro held her leg between its fingers. Without resisting, she allowed the monster to drag her body all the way down to the hangar area of Zegnautus Keep.

Famine glared at the enormous monster as she finally came face to face with it, dangling upside down in front of its skeletal face.

"Still ugly, I see," she scoffs, rolling her eyes.

When the monster recognized who it grabbed, it tossed her across the hangar with all the strength it could muster. The Horseman's body slammed against the metal wall, creating an indentation of her body. "What?" She laughs through the pain. "You don't miss me? My feelings are hurt along with my entire back. You've got a nice arm on ya, big guy."

The Gashadokuro hissed as it crawled over to her at amazing speeds. It tried to grab her again, but she dodged and put some distance between her and it. Summoning her blade, she turned her attention back to the immense creature. "Let's dance, buddy! I'm sending you to the grave for sure this time. That's where skeletons belong, anyway."

(Y/n) charged at the Gashadokuro and dodged when it swung its boney hand at her as of it were swatting a fly. She leapt on to its knee, charging her sword with lightning. The creature used its other arm to smack its kneecap to squish the Horseman, but it was too slow. She had jumped from its knee to its shoulder in the timeframe it took for the monster to raise its hand.

Running across its shoulder, she targets the spine and uses it as a ladder to reach its head. She ducked and dodged each time the Gashadokuro tried to pluck or swat at her with its large, skeletal hands. It howled as she climbed the side of its head and finally reached the top. Raising her blade, (Y/n) drove it through its skull and twisted it as deep as it could go. The lightning discharged and surged through every part of the creature's body.

The Gashadokuro roared loudly, the entire hangar shaking from the monstrous cry. (Y/n) withdrew her blade from the monster's skull. She knew the one shock wouldn't be enough to kill it, but it was enough to slow it down and weaken it.

Famine jumped off its head, landing with a click of her heels against the concrete floor a few feet from the enemy. She sighed, watching as it tipped over and fell onto its back with a thunderous 'thud'. "Yeah. You rest for a moment. I know you'll be back on your feet in a few minutes. That'll give me enough time to come up with a plan."

(Y/n) threw her aching body against a metal crate with a huff. She closed her eyes, trying to devise a plan to kill the monster laying before her. Unlike her sisters, she wasn't able to gain knowledge on how to kill it before having been transported to Eos at King Aeshema's command. "Why couldn't there have been two Phantom Knights? Why did it have to be one of the most dangerous monsters from the Inner Sanctum...?" She reclined her head back against crate with another heavy sigh. "I swear, those three gave me the most difficult thing to kill out of all the monsters!"

The Gashadokuro growled lowly as it gradually pushed its body off the ground. As it sat up, its lower jaw unhinged and released a deafening roar. (Y/n) glared daggers at it before pushing her own body off the crate. "Ready for round two, huh? Bring it on!"

<-----------<<<<<<<<<<<

Once the boys had departed from the dormitory in search of the Crystal and (Y/n), they encountered the Foras daemon and made quick work of the enemy before moving on, ignoring its words as it breathed its final breath.

Moving forward through the Keep, the royal retinue eventually made it to the hangar. "One helluva hangar," Gladio said as they entered the large room, not yet spotting the fight between the Horseman and monster.

"Look at all this space," Prompto said before his eyes fell upon the Gashadokuro. He gasped as he saw (Y/n)'s body fly past them and rip through three metal containers before slamming into the wall. He shouted her name at the top of his lungs and ran to her as her body fell to the floor. He slid to his knees beside her and supported her body when she tried to stand. He hooked one arm around her waist while the other grabbed her sword.

"I... am not..." She started while huffing, freeing herself from Prompto and snatching her sword out of his hand. "A fly!" Without skipping a beat, she charged at the Gashadokuro with a scream of frustration. She slashed at its hand, slicing off three of its skeletal fingers before moving to sever its other hand clean off.

"Gladio!" (Y/n) shouted, performing a few backflips to avoid the Gashadokuro's reach. She skidded to a stop in a kneeling position and moved to stand at her full stature. The shield raised a brow and eyes her, his eyes showing a hint of interest and amazement at her performance. "How high do you think you can throw me?"

"How high you wanting to go?" He questioned.

"Nape of the neck," she responded hastily.

Gladio nodded and cupped his hands together snappily as he saw the monster closing in on them. "Make it quick!"

(Y/n) ran towards the brute and he launched her high in the air. She soared upwards, blade at the ready. At the nape of the monster's neck, she plunged her sword into its body and allowed her weight to drag the blade down the back of its body. She felt a plummeting sensation in her gut as she stared at the large, deep gash she created with her blade. Her sword slipped from its back and she admired her handiwork with a smirk, listening to the Gashadokuro wail in pain before falling over face-first onto the floor.

Famine waited to feel her back smack against the floor, bracing for the pain she would be in. What she didn't expect was to land on something rather soft and slightly hard. Pushing herself off what she landed on, she realized it wasn't a something but rather a someone. "Prompto?!"

"Ugh..." He groaned from the impact. "H-Hey, (Y/n)."

"Did you really try to catch me?" She raised a brow in question.

"I-It didn't go as I planned..." He grunted.

"Yeah, well, you still cushioned my fall. You get points for that," she snickered, helping him to his feet and avoiding irritating his most likely bruised back.

"Here," Noctis said, tossing the blonde a curative. "Can't believe you actually tried that."

"Hey, what can I say?" Prompto grinned as the potion shattered in his hand. "I'll always be there to catch my goddess."

"Your spine will snap like a twig one of these days if you keep becoming my cushion every time I fall," (Y/n) retorts.

When the Gashadokuro began recovering, Famine's head snapped towards it. She conjured her blade, ready to strike, but she noticed something was off. Her eyes narrowed as she watched the monster. "What is it-no!" She stormed over to it as it vanished. She dispelled her blade and ran her hands through her golden locks. "No, no, no, no! This vanishing act is getting very annoying!"

"Uh, (Y/n)?" Prompto called out to his girlfriend.

"What?!" She spun around, (e/c) eyes burning with anger. He flinched at her fiery tone, which didn't go unnoticed by her. The girl took a deep breath, sighed, and apologized. "Sorry. Didn't mean to snap at you."

"I-It's fine," the blonde responded. "Never seen you so angry before."

"I finally managed to locate my last target and it runs away before I can finish it-just like the Phantom Knight. I really suck at my job as a Horseman." (Y/n) fell to her knees before leaning back and falling onto the floor, staring up at the ceiling.

"If it's any consolation, you were pretty badass," Noctis stated.

"Not your fault they run. It just means they're scared of you," Gladio added. "Which means you are doing your job right."

"Yeah!" Prompto cheered. "If I was a Horseman, I'd turn tail and run. That thing was huge and terrifying!"

"Pray tell, (Y/n), what is this "Gashadokuro"?" Ignis asked.

While still on her back, she explained the origins of the creature. "The Gashadokuro is a manifestation of the amassed bones of people who died from starvation. They're known for their skeletal appearance and immense height. There are ten in all of existence, every single one housed within the Inner Sanctum. Only one escaped when the seal broke. Thank the Six it's only one."

"Anything else interesting about 'em?" Noctis asked curiously.

"Wanna know their diet?" She sat up with a smirk, knowing it would make all four of them queasy.

"Uh, sure."

She pushed herself off the cold floor, her smirk widening. "Y'know, the usual things monsters like to eat-heads and blood. Hate the rest of the body, though. They'll just toss that aside."

Her words created a deafening silence. She glanced between all the boys with a seemingly innocent smile. "What? Too much information?"

"Um, just a little," Prompto gulped fearfully.

Famine clamped her hands together, deciding to change the subject for the sake of the boys and their slightly paling faces. "We should locate the Crystal. The mana spilling from it is quite overwhelming."

"It's close by?" Noctis asked, eyes gleaming with hope.

"I'm not sure, but its mana signature is quite strong in this hangar. It must be somewhere nearby. The central elevator is that way," (Y/n) pointed to the back of the hangar. "It's our only way up."

Their conversation was interrupted by the eerie sound of squealing metal. The large doors at the other end of the hangar begin opening, alerting the five. Over the loudspeakers, they hear Ardyn's taunting tone. "Your Majesty, your precious Crystal awaits you. To liven things up I thought I'd take you on a stroll down memory lane. Of course, memories decay with time."

Ravus' body walks through the doors, now grotesque and daemonic, transformed into a monster. "Kill me... End it..." He begged in a haunting, warped tone.

Gladio's eyes narrowed slightly as the man stalked towards them. "Is that Ravus?"

"Or what's left of him..." Prompto muttered.

"Friend of yours?" (Y/n) pondered.

"More of an acquaintance," Noctis replied. "And Luna's brother."

Famine sighed dejectedly. "A shame to see he has become a victim of the kingdom he once served." She glanced down at her hands before locking eyes with the infected man. "I'll make this quick. Think you four can create an opening for me?"

"Certainly," Ignis responds, summoning his daggers.

"We'll distract him and you do whatever you need to," Gladio reassured.

"I don't want to have to use it again so soon, but I must," she murmured to herself.

(Y/n) watched and waited as the boys fought against Ravus. Noctis warped into battle while Prompto stood in the back, firing round after round at the daemonized man. Gladio and Ignis joined the fray, grabbing Ravus' full attention.

While his sight was focused on the four boys, the Horseman snuck up behind him and reached out to touch him. When her hands were a few inches from his head, he turned and drove his blade through her abdomen. She gasped in pain and heard the boys shout her name. "Damn... That one hurt..." A grunt escaped her lips as she took another step forward, the blade sinking further into her body.

Reaching out, (Y/n) placed her hands on the sides of Ravus' face and gritted her teeth as she fought through the immense pain in her abdomen. The second her hands touched the man's face, she could feel the daemon inside him trying to invade her own body. "Sorry, pal. That's not gonna happen."

"Kill... me..." Ravus begged through labored, pained breaths in a dark undertone.

"I'll try to make it quick," she whispered and used the Touch of Starvation.

Ravus screamed out in pain as the daemon inside him tried to break free from (Y/n) and escape, but it was too late. His bones show through his flesh as his body slowly discorporated, turning his body into nothing but bones until they disintegrated into ash. The screaming ceased and Famine's hands shake as they remained in the air. The exhaustion hit her like a bullet train, but she desperately tried to fight through it.

The girl glanced down at the sword that was still embedded in her abdomen and called out to the boys. "Can I... get some help here?"

Noctis was the closest to her and jogged over. He grabbed the hilt of the blade. Before doing anything due to the fright of the amount of blood, he met her (e/c) gaze. "You ready?" He asked nervously.

(Y/n) nodded, her eyes drooping due to the exhaustion. "Just... make it quick." Noctis nodded and used all his strength to briskly remove the sword from her body.

Once it was out, Famine sighed in relief before she felt her vision fading. She stumbled backwards in a desperate attempt to stave off the exhaustion as her body healed. Noctis tossed the blade down before grabbing her arm to keep her from falling. "H-Hey!"

Prompto rushed over as he saw her eyes shut and her knees collapse underneath her. He wrapped his arms around her body and Noctis released his hold on her, seeing the blonde had a firm grip on her. He sunk to his knees with (Y/n) collapsed against him-one hand cradling the back of her head while the other rested on her waist. "Iggy!" He shouted in worry.

The tactician followed the sound of Prompto's distressed tone and made his way over hastily. He found where they were and asked the blonde what was the problem. He quickly explained to him how (Y/n) suddenly lost consciousness after her wounds healed, concerned something had went wrong during the healing process. Her skin was slightly clammy to the touch and pale.

"She's immortal, right?" Noctis asked.

"Y-Yeah, but still..." Prompto muttered. "Is she okay, Iggy?"

"By her symptoms, I believe it's simply exhaustion," the advisor responds.

As the boys were discussing (Y/n)'s condition, the hangar suddenly fills with daemons. The amass of enemies varied in size as they flooded the entirety of the hangar.

"Look alive-company!" Gladio shouted, conjuring his greatsword and killing an approaching daemon.

Prompto shook (Y/n) lightly, hoping to stir her from her unconscious state. "(Y/n), we could really use your help right now!"

The Horseman didn't stir.

"That's not gonna work," a voice hissed. Prompto looked up and saw a girl with crimson hair and lapis eyes staring down at him. "It's useless to try and wake her at this point. The power she used to kill that man takes a lot out of her. She won't be awake for a couple of hours. You better protect her or I'm gonna skin your ass."

"Not the time, War!" Gladio snarled at the girl. "Could use your help!"

The redhead rolled her eyes with a groan. "Fine. Just don't get in my way. I'm doing this for my sister, not for the rest of you." War called upon one of her many weapons and took down daemons left and right.

Prompto, a little shaken at the Horseman's threat, summoned his pistol and shot any daemons that tried to pounce on him and (Y/n).

<--------<<<<<<<<

The fighting droned on endlessly. Noctis, Prompto, Gladio, Ignis, and War slew many daemons, but more kept replacing them.

"We're getting nowhere!" Gladio bellowed as he sliced through several assailants.

"And they just keep coming!" Prompto whimpered.

Ignis addresses the raven-haired boy through the scuffle. "Noct, you must go alone."

"What?" Said boy gasped in disbelief.

"If you can obtain the Crystal's power, we may yet turn the tide. Elsewise, we are all likely to perish here."

"Iggy's right," Gladio said in agreement. "It's our only chance."

"But what about you?" Noctis glanced around at his friends and War.

"We'll manage somehow! Just get moving!" Prompto yelled, shooting a daemon between the eyes.

Then, Ardyn broadcasts his voice over the loudspeakers. "You could still get to the Crystal... if you went on your own. Your friends will have to stay behind."

Noctis glanced at his friends and the Horseman before taking off. As he was running to the central elevator, someone grabbed his arm and hoisted him upward. With a grunt, he realized it was Death. She glanced over her shoulder with a smirk. "Need a ride, Your Highness?"

[blublirb]

Need to Know Basis Pt. 2 | Peter Parker

A/N: Okay so the first time I posted this, it got wonky. Let’s try this again. So here is part 2! I’m really happy that you guys loved the first one! So here’s the thing. I’m gonna make a part 3. Haha. Stay tuned.

Word count: 2.4k

Tags: @immsmarvel @buckylatte @laurie-ofmoonlightandstardust @slythxr @morgannope @tiarrasmith

“You flake! You are so lucky we won.” Your attention was quickly drawn over to Liz, who had taken Ned’s phone. She scolded someone over the phone, and your mind quickly drew up a list as to who she could be talking to. “Y’know, I wanna be mad, but I’m more worried. Like, what is going on with you?” Oh. You walked over to her as Ned put his things on the conveyor belt to go through the X-Ray.

“Hey, is that Peter on the phone?”

Liz held a finger up, signalling you to wait. She argued for another second, hearing frantic pleads to put Ned back on the phone.

“Liz, come on, I wanna talk to Peter,” you stated, crossing your arms. Liz gave you a look before an attendant told her put the phone on the conveyor belt. As she did so, you heard Peter crying out and wondered what on Earth could cause him such distress. Liz and the phone went through their respective x-rays, and you followed suit. Tired of waiting, you quickly sneaked up behind Liz, grabbing the phone and holding it up to your ear as you entered the elevator.

“Hey, Pete. Where are you? We really could’ve used you at the Decathlon. You’re very lucky M.J.-- sorry, Michelle saved our asses.”

“Y/n, I really need you to hand the phone to Ned right now.”

“Well, damn, Parker, at least tell a girl you’re not interested.” You looked to the attendant as the elevator went up, not paying attention to the many boring facts she listed about the monument. “Seriously, though, where are you? We had to stick Flash at the table with us. He’s been talking about how awesome it was that we won, which, by the way, is hilarious, coming from him, seeing as he didn’t answer a single question--”

FWOOM

The elevator stopped. You put the phone to your side, looking around. Ned dropped his backpack to the middle of the floor.

“Oh my God, look at the ceiling,” Flash whimpered. You looked up. You held the phone back up to your ear as Liz told everyone to stay calm.

“I’m gonna have to call you back.” You ended the call, disregarding Peter’s yelling. You subconsciously moved closer to Ned, seeing as he was your closest friend at the moment, since M.J. wasn’t there with you.

“Oh, we’re all going to die here,” you heard Abe say. You felt fear and panic start to boil in your blood.

“Oh, we’re so screwed,” another teammate said.

Your attention was drawn to the attendant as she gathered everyone’s attention. “Okay, I know that was scary, but our safety systems are working. We’re very safe in here.” Bile rose up in your throat.

“And what happens if those fail?” You asked, not really wanting to know the answer. You tried not to imagine falling 500-something feet to your death.

“Everything will be alright. We just need to climb out of the top.” The lady motioned for Flash to help her up. He frantically moved forward, holding his hands down for her to climb up. The trap door opened, revealing guards and citizens working together to open the elevator doors. “Come on!” She said, climbing out to help others reach the top.

One by one, your teammates climbed out of the elevator. Abe, Sally, Cindy, Charles. With every person you heard snapping wires and creaking metal. You tried to steady your breathing as you stayed behind to help the others out. Blaring alarms and flashing lights didn’t exactly help.

“Okay, who’s next?” Mr. Harrington asked. You had hoped to get Ned out next, ready to push him up, when Flash rushed forward.

“Me! It’s my turn!” He hurried himself onto Harrington’s hands. He ripped the trophy from Ned’s hands.

“Man, seriously, what are you doing?” Ned asked. Flash ignored him.

“Don’t worry about the trophy!” Liz yelled. You were about to yell the same when Flash reached the top. The elevator shuddered. You gripped the rails, a small panicked scream erupting.

“Oh, God!” You muttered, horrified.

“Take my trophy!” Flash yelled. The elevator shuddered again, shaking everyone about. The urgency seemed to increase as Flash jumped up. The elevator’s ceiling broke. You, Ned, Liz, and Mr. Harrington screamed as you free-fell. You grabbed Ned’s arm and held on for dear life, your stomach plummeting. Your eyes, watered. You bowed your head, preparing yourself for the end. It reminded you of the time you went to Disneyland with your family, going to California Adventure and riding the Tower of Terror. Except, this time, there were no seats, no bars, and no theatrics.

You briefly wondered how everyone would move on without you four. Without the prettiest, kindest Senior in the school, the endearingly lame Decathlon teacher, the sweetest nerd you’d ever met, and you. You didn’t exactly know how you fit into the equation. You weren’t popular, but people knew you. You weren’t exceedingly smart, but you were on the Academic team. You were a person full of contradictions in yourself, sticking with your three friends and nothing else at Midtown School of Science and Tech. Well, one friend, to be exact. You hardly hung out with Ned and Peter. Mainly only at lunch when you sat with M.J. at the same table they sat at. M.J. was your only actual friend.

You wondered how M.J. would move on. You wondered if she would cry over you. Maybe she would let one single stoic tear fall at your funeral. Maybe she would hold your Decathlon jacket and box it up in a frame on her bedroom wall. Maybe she would save your place at your lunch table long after you stopped sitting in it. Maybe--

A jolt brought you out of your thoughts. More screaming as you felt to the floor. You felt broken glass cut into your palms and knees. Sweat fall from your hairline. You saw Liz and Ned and Mr. Harrington fall to the ground beside you.

“Oh my god,” you whispered. “I’m not dead.” You let that sink in. You looked up to Ned. “We’re not dead?” He shook his head. And then you fell again. This time was less surprising, and less terrifying, like a rollercoaster you’ve been on twice already before going for another round. This time you didn’t think about those depressing thoughts. You thought about Ned. The exhausted terror in his eyes, like he didn’t want to ride the rollercoaster in the first place. You empathized with that feeling.

You didn’t scream. You let the adrenaline and fear take over, the blood boiling in your system, the plummeting stomach, the labored breathing. You took all the energy you had and reached forward, hugging Ned as close to you as possible, shutting your eyes tight. And then it stopped. You opened them just in time for Spider-Man to hit the floor in front of you, causing the elevator to go off its hinges and freefall once more. You hugged Ned even tighter, getting sick to your stomach. If the fates wanted you dead so badly, why did they have to take your friend, your classmate, and your teacher with you? And for all that is holy, why take Spider-Man with you? Why was he in Washington D.C. in the first place?

You watched as the superhero flung a web up, jumping to the monument’s ceiling and standing, upside down, on what was left of the elevator’s own ceiling.

“Hey, how you doin’?” he said in a heavy Brooklyn accent. It was so heavy, you had a fleeting thought that it was fake. But you digressed. You had no time to be analyzing New York accents. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, I gotchu.” Ned pushed you off, standing up and flailing his arms.

“Yes! Yes! Yes--”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Spider-Man yelled. “Big Guy, quit moving around!”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

You stood up, shaking. Just doing that had taken a lot of effort. You leaned on a railing. “I want off this ride. I don’t like flirting with death.” Spider-Man’s eyes widened as he looked at you, almost as if wondering why you were there. He cleared his throat.

“Don’t worry, miss. I’ll get you out of here as soon as possible.” And, with that, he started tugging on the web he held, bringing the elevator up slowly. You wished he went faster, but you figured you had no right to be ordering him about. After all, he was currently saving your life. Soon enough, he brought you to the top. Sighing in relief, you ushered Mr. Harrington and Ned out. When it got to just you and Liz, you pushed on her back.

“Go, go, I’ll be out right after you.” She complied, climbing out as soon as possible. As you took a step forward to climb out, Spider-Man flew out of the elevator. Wait, what? Your stomach dropped again, making you realize that you were falling again. Spider-Man didn’t go anywhere-- you did. You screamed, reaching your hand out to Spider-Man as he did to you. You felt something latch onto your wrist, and you wrapped your fingers around it, glad to see it was a web Spider-Man had shot out to catch you. Your legs dangled below you as you watched the elevator fall to the ground 500 feet below. You looked up to Spider-Man. “Oh my god.”

“You’re okay. You’re okay,” he replied breathlessly, pulling you up. You steadied your breathing.

“Please don’t drop me,” You pleaded.

“I won’t, I promise.” His voice held a layer of sincerity, something he didn’t have before. He let you off at the ledge. He cleared his throat again. “So, uh, is everyone okay?” He had the New York accent again. Why did he keep switching? You felt like you recognized his voice, though. You knew that voice from somewhere. But where? You nodded in response, not trusting your voice. He stared at you for a moment, as if about to say something. Then he was gone.

You quickly looked down the elevator shaft, holding onto the doors as you watched him disappear.

“Thank you!” Mr. Harrington called. A moment passed.

Flash knelt next to you, trophy in hand as he called out into the abyss. “Are you really friends with Peter Parker?” He yelled. You gave him a look and a swift smack to the shoulder.

“Are you serious right now?” He shrugged. You scoffed. “I can’t believe you.”

You were surprised when M.J. ran up to you once you hit ground level. She didn’t hug you, though. She grabbed your shoulders and looked you in the eyes, examining you. You pulled your chin back in confusion. She snorted.

“So, you’re not dead.” You rolled your eyes and wrapped her in a hug. She stood there for a moment, no doubt feeling extremely awkward in this position. She hesitantly pat you on the back a total of three times. You pulled away.

“No, but I seriously thought I was going to be.” She held her breath, then sighed, rubbing your head.

“You look like shit. I’m glad you’re not dead.” You chuckled as she turned and walked away. You figured that was the closest to affectionate she was going to get. She stopped and turned to you. “Are you coming?” You jogged to catch up with her, messing with your hair. There was definitely small dirt and glass in there. You promised yourself to take a shower later and put your hair in a ponytail in the meantime.

The bus ride home was silent. The kids weren’t up for talking, mostly. The rare times they did, they were calling their parents to confirm they were safe. You had been at M.J.’s for the past few days, as your parents were on a field trip, so you weren’t expecting a phone call. Needless to say, you were pleasantly surprised when your phone rang. You looked at your screen. Mom. You looked around, seeing M.J. asleep next to you, and Peter and Ned in the seats across the aisle. No one was really paying attention, so you answered your phone. It’s not that you were embarrassed to call your mom. You just didn’t like people eavesdropping.

“Hey, mom,” you answered.

“Oh my god, are you okay? We saw everything on the news. You weren’t up there, were you? Are you okay? What happened?” You heard the familiar voice rant. You rubbed the bridge of your nose.

“Ma, I’m fine. Yeah, I was up there in the elevator. No, I’m not hurt. Just a few scrapes and bruises. I’ll tell you everything when you get home.” You thought for a moment. “When are you coming home?” She sighed.

“Good, good, you’re not hurt. Um, your father and I are scheduled to stay at the business retreat for another week, but I’m sure we can get home a few days early if you need us. Do you want us home?”

“No, no, I’m okay. I promise. I can stay at M.J.’s a little longer, if she’ll let me.” You heard M.J. shuffle next to you. She didn’t open her eyes, but you could tell she was conscious.

“I’ll have to ask my dad. He’s visiting my aunt this weekend, leaving tonight, and he doesn’t like friends over when he’s gone,” she mumbled. You sighed. You felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you saw Peter leaning over the aisle.

“You can stay at my place, if you want. I’m sure Aunt May won’t mind.” You gave him a grateful smile, despite the fact he obviously eavesdropped. Maybe you were just talking too loud.

“Thanks,” you turned to your phone. “Mom, I’ll stay at Peter’s tonight. I don’t really feel like going home just yet.” Ned perked up from behind Peter.

“Dude, can I stay, too?” Peter chuckled a little, and it took all your willpower not to focus on it. Peter agreed, sending Ned into planning mode, ranting about a movie marathon and things. M.J. sat up, peering across the aisle.

“Count me in, too, loser. I’m not leaving Y/n alone with a bunch of nerds.”

You ignored them, trying to focus on your phone. “Yeah, mom, I’ll be okay. M.J.’s coming, too, so I won’t be alone with boys.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. You have fun with Dad. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Bye.” And with that, you turned to the boys. “So what’s this I hear about a movie marathon?”

[bts-parktaehyung]

Stranded

Request:  Can you write a smut fanfiction for Chanyeol on a deserted island after a plane-crush, kind of like his new drama missing9? 

I haven’t seen his new drama, but I hope this is good! 

Pairing: Park Chanyeol X Reader

Genre: Smut 

Word Count:  2,715

It was your first time riding on an airplane and you were doing it alone. You were extremely nervous and terrified of flying. As the lady took your ticket, scanned it, and gave it back to you with a smile, your stomach did a backflip. This was it. You were boarding the plane and everything inside you was screaming at you to turn around and run away screaming.

You ignored your instincts and took your seat next to an older woman. She greeted you with a polite nod and smile as you tried to get comfortable in your seat. "Is this your first time flying?" She asked. You took in a deep breath before nodding at her with a nervous smile. "I can tell. You look very nervous."

"I am. Do you fly often? You asked, trying to take your mind off the fact that you were about to be thousands of feet in the air in a metal room that weighed somewhere between 735,000 pounds and 970,000 pounds. It disobeyed the laws of gravity and that freaked you out. The woman nodded.

"Yes, my son lives in South Korea and we try to visit each other often." She explained, smiling all the while.

"That's very sweet." You smiled, forgetting about your whereabouts for the time being.

"Why are you going to South Korea, if you don't mind me asking?" She asked, adjusting her travel pillow behind her head.

"I want to see the world," you explained, "Korea is the first stop because... well because I got interested in the culture and everything when I discovered the boy bands" You said, embarrassed by how much information you just shared. She laughed softly at your confession.

As you spoke with the woman, you got more comfortable with being on the plane. That is, until the flight attendants started walking up and down the aisles, telling people to turn their phones off and buckle up. You started to panic, thinking it was impossible to get this big hunk of metal into the sky. Soon, you felt the plane start to take off and that's when the lady next to you took your hand in hers. You looked over at her soft, warm expression and started to calm down. If she did this so often and she was so calm, why should you worry? You thought logically, steering your thoughts from the what ifs.

Eventually you were calm again and deep in conversation with the lady who's name you found out was Irene. She was a lovely woman and you truly enjoyed talking with her. She was more understanding and listened better than any other person you had ever met in your entire life. She eased your thoughts and made you forget completely about all the dangers of flying.

Irene was telling you a story about a winter she spent with her son in Seoul when you felt the plane shake. Your hands immediately shot to the arm rests at your side, gripping them tightly. Knuckles turning white and eyes squeezed shut, your whole body tensed up. The pilot came over the intercom saying that you were flying straight into an unforeseen storm. You felt tears building behind your eyes.

I knew it. I knew it. I knew it.

You chanted in your head, panicking. Irene gently set her hand on top of yours to calm you down. "Shh, don't panic, Y/n. Everything will be okay." She said in soft voice. You took in a deep breath, trying to calm down, when the plane shook again. You immediately tightened your seat belt and held onto the armrests for dear life. The seat belt light dinged on and the air masks fell from the ceiling.

This is it.

Tears began to flow from your eyes as the plane shook some more and you felt your whole body jerk toward the ceiling. You were terrified and regretted your decision to be brave. As the plane plummeted to the earth, your life flashed before your eyes. You couldn't believe what was happening.

The sound of metal tearing and people screaming was loud enough to drown out your own thoughts. You felt branches of trees making contact with your face and arms as the plane's body tore through the treetops on it's way down. Suddenly, it all came to a screeching halt and you slowly opened your eyes, shocked you survived. The roof of the plane was gone, torn clean off, and tree branches took over the open space.

"Is everyone okay?" Someone asked.

How naive, you thought, what a stupid question

The doctor on board instructed everyone to remain in their seats until they were helped out of them. You looked over at Irene, seeing her eyes closed and a large cut on her cheek that was bleeding. "Irene!" You shouted, touching her hand to try to wake her up. "Irene, please." You sobbed. "Someone help!"

Someone immediately made their way to Irene, helping her out of her seat and taking her outside, where the doctor was helping people. Then they helped you out and you immediately found the doctor with Irene. "Please tell me she's okay." You begged, twisting your hands together as you stared at her lying on the ground. The doctor looked up at you with a small smile.

"She should be fine. She passed out due to lack of oxygen and this cut looked far worse than it is." He explained. You let out a sigh of relief, thanking him before sitting next to her in the sand. He left you alone with Irene to go check on other passengers with injuries when a tall man in a hat and black face mask covering his mouth and nose approached you.

"Is she your grandma?" He asked, looking at Irene sadly.

"No, I met her on the plane. She's a lovely woman." You spoke, smiling at the old woman. He crouched down next to you, gently running his fingers over a bandage on her hand.

"Is she okay?" He asked, staring at the bandages on her face and arms.

"Yes, the doctor says she'll be fine." You said, looking up at him. His eyes were covered by his dark bangs, making it impossible to really see any of his face. But he still looked familiar to you. You shook it off as he sat on the ground next to her legs, draping his arms across his bent knees.

"Want company until she wakes up?" He asked, playing with the sand. You smiled at his childish behavior.

"Sure. Did you get hurt at all?" You asked, hesitantly. He looked up at you shaking his head.

"I got a few scratches on my face, but it's nothing." He said, shrugging it off. "How about you? Your arms look pretty tore up." He said, taking your wrist in his hand to get a better look at the damage.

"Oh, it's nothing." You said casually. He let go of your wrist and tilted his head at you.

"Did the doctor look at you?" He asked.

"No, I told him others had bigger injuries he should be worrying about." You laughed, brushing hair out of Irene's face. You heard him laugh at your response.

"Funny, I said the same thing." He replied, going back to playing in the sand. You smiled, admiring the way he was so relaxed and calm. Especially under the circumstances.

Later in the night, there was a bonfire and it was announced that there were no casualties. The pilot said the radio had been broken in the crash and fixing it was not possible. You would have to wait for a boat to go by or another plane.

You had spent all day talking to the mysterious guy, even when Irene woke up. You still didn't know his name, but you felt like you knew him. You sat next to him as everyone surrounded the fire. It didn't feel like you were stranded, it felt like a big gathering. Everyone was shockingly calm and not worried about help arriving.

Before you knew it, the guy you'd been spending so much time with all day, asked you if you would go for a walk with him. Of course you agreed, you had a small crush on him by now. The way he talked and moved drew you to him. You wanted to know what was under that mask, but you respected his privacy.

The two of you began your walk into the dark, away from all of the people. "You're not gonna kill me, are you?" You joked, walking beside him. He laughed, shaking his head.

"Why would I kill a pretty girl like you? Everyone would notice you're gone." He explained, bumping his shoulder into yours. You felt the blood rush to your cheeks.

"D- did you just call me pretty?" You stuttered, shocked by his words.

"Mm yeah. Is that okay?" He asked, turning toward you. You smiled, shoving your hands into your pockets.

"Of course. I can't really return the compliment though. I mean, I haven't seen your face." You pointed out, looking at the ground.

"I didn't say it to get a compliment in return, but if you want to see my face..." He trailed off. You snapped your head up in excitement, making him laugh. "I guess that's a yes."

"Sorry, I'm just curios." You admitted, looking away. You could still see the fire off in the distance and hear people laughing. You felt him take your hands and place them on either side of his head.

"You can take it off it you want to." He said, giving you permission. Your heart raced as you slowly pulled the fabric straps from behind his ears. When the mask fell, your breath was taken away. You realized why he looked so familiar earlier and your jaw dropped.

"Y- you're.... Chanyeol..." He giggled at your reaction, making your heart jump to your throat. He nodded, taking his hat off. "Park Chanyeol.... Park Chanyeol called me.... pretty..." You said, putting everything together. He laughed, putting his hands on your shoulders and bending down a little to look in your eyes.

"Yes, because you are. Please don't let this change anything."

"I'm sorry. It's just... I'm so shocked. I love EXO. You guys are part of the reason I was going to Seoul. Because you got me interested in the Korean language and culture and food and music and oh my goodness Park Chanyeol is standing in front me and -" You were cut off by Chanyeol's lips on yours. His hands cradled your face as his lips pressed against yours perfectly. When he pulled away, you were dazed and utterly satisfied at the turn of events the night had taken.

"Was that okay?" He asked, still holding your face. You smiled, giggling at how cute he was.

"No," you started, making him frown and his hands went slack against your cheeks, about to fall back to his sides. Quickly, you grabbed his hands to keep them there. "It was perfect." You finished, watching his face light up. He leaned in, kissing you again, but this time he moved his lips against yours until it turned into a heated make out session.

By the time you pulled away, you were both trying to catch your breath and you were craving more from him. Apparently the kiss had the same effect on Chanyeol because in no time, he had you pressed against a tree as he kissed and bit at your neck. You moaned softly, feeling his member against your thigh, as the boy attacked your neck.

His hands reached behind your thighs, picking you up as you wrapped your legs around him. You ran your fingers through his soft hair, now feeling his arousal between your legs through your jean shorts. "Chanyeol," you breathed in his ear. He hummed in response before pulling away to look at your face. You bit your lip, thinking of all the ways he could take you right there in the woods. "I need you." You whispered, causing him to smirk.

"You got it, baby." He said, putting you down and undoing his pants. You couldn't believe what was happening as Chanyeol bit his lip, looking at you. He kissed you, pulling you against him by your waist. Pulling back from the kiss, he looked down between the two of you as his hands unbuttoned your shorts. He looked back up at you for confirmation, to which you nodded, before he looked back down and slowly pulled your shorts down until they dropped to your ankles. You quickly stepped out of them, eyes glued to him as he smiled down at you. One hand cupped your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss, as the other trailed down to your white lace panties. His fingers teased you, gliding over the lace before he pushed it aside and pressed a finger into you.

A breathy moan fell from your lips and into Chanyeol's mouth as he pumped his finger in you. Soon, he couldn't take it anymore. He pulled away from the kiss and ripped your panties down your legs before picking you up again, pushing you against the tree. You gasped as he held you there with one arm while his other hand revealed his hard on. Licking your lips, you anticipated how amazing he was going to feel. He looked you in the eyes before placing a sweet kiss to your lips and slowly pressing himself into you.

You closed your eyes, moaning his name quietly as he filled you up. He groaned in your ear as he sank deeper into you. "Ready?" He breathed in your ear. You simply nodded in response. He slowly started moving in and out of you, making breathe harder and faster. His thrusts got faster before he stopped. "Um can we try a different..." He trailed off. You smiled, knowing it was hard to do it standing up.

"I have the perfect idea." You whispered. You got your shorts back on and headed for the plane. When you got there, Chanyeol laughed.

"Why didn't I think of that?" He asked, letting you lead him back inside. Once you were inside, you made sure no one else was in there before you pushed Chanyeol down into a seat.

"Where were we?" You asked, "ah, yes." Chanyeol laughed as you removed your shorts and panties before straddling him. He quickly undid his pants again and pulled his member out. You eased yourself onto him, feeling him deeper in this new position.

"Shit," he groaned, dropping his head back against the seat. You smirked, slowly bouncing up and down on him. His hands were on your hips, fingers pressing hard into your skin as he tried to make you go faster. Quickly, you gave into him, letting him control the pace as you leaned down to kiss his neck. "Ah, jagi." He said urgently, pushing you up off of him as he finished.

You rested your head in the crook of his neck, trying to catch your breath before you got up and got dressed. "I'm gonna go get you something to clean up with." You smiled, making your way to the bathroom. When you came back and handed him the tissues, he cleaned himself up and did his pants back up. You smiled, "Well we should go back out there." You said awkwardly, pressing your lips into a line.

As you tried to make your way past him, still sitting, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his lap. You squealed before giggling as he kissed you all over your face. "I'm not ready." He smiled, holding you in his lap.

"Chanyeol," you giggled, "what are you doing?" He rubbed his hand up and down your leg as you sat sideways across his lap.

"I just want to sit here with you for a little bit, if that's okay with you." He admitted. A huge smile broke out on your face at his words as he leaned in, kissing your nose.

"That sounds perfect." You smiled, laying your head on his chest as he rubbed your back. Being stranded might not be your worst fear anymore.

[unaugmentedmonkeyscantfly]

From Space to the Grave || Drabble backstory for Framework!Fitz pt 1

Science was such a wonderful thing.  It had let humans touch the moon. Sample the stars.  Map the inner workings of the brain.  Yes, science was wonderful, and beautiful, more beautiful than any woman could ever be, mused Fitz, even knowing the lengths he’d go through for Madame Hydra.  It just…wasn’t the same.

Fortuitously timed, the doctor found something in his letters: a personal invitation from NASA to come see their new emergency escape modules.  Lesser Hydra agents might say that having such things was cowardice, but better to waste money on a module like that than waste a valuable human life. Fitz was no fool, and knew that some astronauts, cosmonauts, whatever, were irreplaceable (Damn shame about that Will Daniels bloke.  He had potential.)

“Reyna,” he called out to his bodyguard, standing outside the room as always.  "How’d you like to take a day trip to Houston tomorrow?“

"Sounds like fun, sir.”

“Excellent.”

–

The flight was a pleasant one, as always, little bits of information pinging in on his in-flight wifi. Hopefully the food would be better, the last chef hadn’t been as good as he’d hoped, and the one before that intentionally gave him food poisoning that put him out of action for a week. Needless to say, that particular chef had been made an example of.

The humidity wasn’t what got to Fitz the most.  It was the heat.  Early May in this part of the country was nasty enough for someone from Britain, worse still for someone wearing a three-piece suit.  Still, NASA was NASA, and it touched something deep inside Fitz’s memories, from the times in his childhood when he’d wanted nothing more than to build robot astronauts and the spaceships they flew in.  A simpler time.  A gentler Fitz.  A long-buried Fitz.

Checkpoints.  Blah, blah.  He never had to deal with the Inhuman ones, of course, but they weren’t the only people out there who didn’t see the wisdom of Hydra’s ways.  There were other subversives, some of whom had experience with explosives or weapons or heavy machinery, and they were never content to go out quietly.  Idiots who didn’t see that Hydra was saving lives, making them better, paving the way for an actual cure for Inhumans and other uncontrollable powered persons. Hadn’t the Deathlok program saved lives, too?  Didn’t stop people from forgetting that.

For whatever reason, the pod was set up near the testing pool.  Maybe they’d just finished doing some sealing tests on it or something, that was the only reason it should have been where it was, but he supposed NASA knew what they were doing.  It was dry now, at least.  The pod was something you could easily walk into and sit down, a partially collapsible rectangular prism big enough for five.

“As you can see, there are useful cubbies for things like basic first aid kits, oxygen tanks, thermal insulating blankets, that kind of thing,” the engineer was telling Fitz, to his clear approval.  "You never know when you’re going to have to get the hell out of Dodge while suffering from some moderate injuries like a broken arm or something.“

Reyna and the woman exchanged glances, and Fitz stood up straight, on-edge.  "What are you not telling me?”  There were alarm bells going off in his head, and he knew better than to dismiss them as paranoia.  "Reyna, what do you know that I don’t?“  Ice.  Anger. Worry.

But it wasn’t Reyna who answered the question, it was the scientist.  "We’re just a little worried that the seals won’t hold as airtight as possible with a subject inside who may be on the verge of panicking.  I mean, we screen all our pilots, but you never know what stress does to a person.”

“What you’re sayin’ is that you need someone to test it on, someone who has absolutely no idea what they’re bein’ thrown into, yes?”  Fitz followed towards the door to the pod as Reyna stepped outside and appeared to nonverbally flirt with the scientist, blocking Fitz’s way out. “So just chuck some poor sod in there, watch what happens.”

“Exactly what we were thinking,” the scientist said, and the door slammed shut, Fitz inside, Reyna outside.  Reyna turned and faced his boss, no apology or shame or worry in his expression.

“Very funny,” Fitz scowled.  Then the pod moved, the crane above shifting and jolting it.  "Reyna, do something.“  The pod lifted off the ground, and Fitz had to change his stance to stay upright, furious and outright terrified by the fact that his bodyguard was doing nothing to stop this kind of experiment.

"I am doing something. I’m watching a monster in a cage.”

Fitz pounded his hand on the inches-thick glass.  "Let me out of here, you coward, or you’ll die in ways you can’t even imag–“ The box shifted again, higher, and it seemed he was being lifted.  It didn’t take the engineer he was to realize that at the crane’s maximum height, if they dropped him onto the concrete, then the pod, the concrete, and he himself would be wrecked to kingdom come.  Don’t scream.  They can hear you.  Don’t show weakness.  You’re smarter than they could ever hope to dream of being.

Then the pod snapped off the crane, almost but not quite at full vertical reach, and the pod went plummeting down, throwing Fitz off-balance and causing him to hit his head on the first aid door, blacking out for about a minute and a half while the pod sank to the bottom, nestled right where the Hubble mockup used to be.  Not leaking, but definitely not buoyant.

When Fitz opened his eyes, there was blood on the wall, and all the first aid stuff had spilled out. First I get out, then I kill them, he decided, and looked to see if there was anything there.  No door release.  Nothing he could stab to let himself out without drowning first.  The oxygen tanks appeared to be there for demonstration purposes only, completely empty, although the alcohol and things were the genuine article.  But to Fitz’s relief, someone had thought to rig the door to blow like the old capsules, in case of water deployment, but he had no way to trigger it.  A simple spark wouldn’t be hot enough, nor would the flame from a lighter (not that he smoked anyway).

So he thought.  He sat down and pored over the maths, trying first to work out how long it was he had to think on this before he ran out of oxygen. Second, he was trying to figure out how many people were involved.  Clearly, whoever had designed the materials of the pod (and the people who could have vetoed them) was involved, as was Reyna, the person who stocked the pod for demonstration reasons, and whoever was on the security monitors.  A good crop of traitors in an organization Fitz had once yearned to belong to.  So much for childhood dreams.

Then it hit him.  The alcohol had a lower flash point than the explosives and a much higher temperature than the spark he could cause by shorting out his smartwatch.  (How did he come up with that?  Someone had come up with that before.  Who? Maybe it was on television somewhere. That made sense.)  He just had to hope that the shock didn’t knock him out and that nobody was waiting with a gun up above.  But the room was dark now–someone had switched off the lights in the facility a good ten minutes ago, probably giving some excuse about maintenance, and he was working by the light of his phone and nothing more.  Yet he had to escape.  He had to get out, had to punish them, had to punish himself for letting even a bodyguard get close.  Pity they couldn’t clone May or something, that would have been…

Fitz nodded to nobody, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and shorted out his watch.  Water rushed in, even though he was only forty feet down, knocked him against the back of the pod right as he registered lights flicking on again, and he was dazed enough that he forgot how to swim up and out of the pod.  Then he forgot how to do anything, and darkness came.

–

The water parted.  No, wait.  Water was clear.  Not black. The black parted.

"No, what I’m saying is there’s nothing I can do,” said a voice, although something about the noises he made sounded off. Not like words.  Just like…Sims.  "I’m good, but I’m not fix-severe-temporal-lobe-damage good. There, I said it.  Something I can’t do.“

The black came back.

–

Black gave way to sunshine. A nice little  blue room with a television and a thing on his arm.  And his face.  And his…the thing the arm had at the end of it.

And Madame Hydra was there, watching news reports until she saw him.  She…smiled at him.  "Hello, Leopold,” she said soothingly, and there at least was one word that sounded like a word.  "The doctors said you might never wake up, but I knew you would.  Some things are set in stone.“

The only response was a vacant but worried stare.  Fitz’s face itched, but he didn’t know what to do to fix that.

"There, there,” Madame Hydra said soothingly, placing her fingers against his cheek. “Everything’s going to be alright now.  I’ve made things the way they should be.  In a few days, you and I can watch as the people who hurt you die.  I promise.”  She did something then that she’d never done before.  She reached over and kissed his forehead, right above his left eyebrow.

It felt right, like the world was in the perfect alignment at that moment.  Like he’d be looked after, like he’d be safe.  Like he’d be loved for the first time he could remember.