#a nightmare. annoying. terrible. argh.

[zhivchik]

[curekibouka-writing]

Wake Me Up (one-shot Precure fanfic)

Summary: Why do we always leave the simplest things unsaid?

To see everything in my collection before this one-shot, please do check out ‘Cure Narrative’ posted on both FF.net and Quotev😉

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(Ciel’s POV)

I had never felt such joy in my entire life.

Pikario, my dear little brother, you finally found your way back to me. After we were separated in Paris, after you were manipulated by Noir, and after your slumber which had lasted for far too long.

We didn’t have time to talk back then, we were busy with the battle against Grave. But as we returned home together for the first time in months, I fell to my knees, tears overflowing, weaving into rivers of elation.

You knelt down beside me and asked me if something was wrong. I uttered not so much as a word while I embraced you, feeling your warmth once again.

Words of love and forgiveness were spoken. Gestures of affection and comfort were made. Tears of both the happiness and grief in our memories fell, dripping onto each other’s shoulders.

You kissed my forehead and wished me “sweet dreams” before I slept. But you being here with me was already the sweetest dream I could’ve hoped for.

Yet I had a terrible nightmare that night. 

I dreamt that I woke up, but you didn’t.

No matter how many times I called to you in my nightmare, you wouldn’t react, you wouldn’t move, you wouldn’t open your eyes.

When I actually woke up, I was drenched with cold sweat.

Hesitantly, I flew to you, tranquilly slumbering (yet again), free from the tiniest grain of woe. I took a deep breath.

“Bonjour-kira!” I crashed right into your middle with my entire weight.

“Argh!” you woke up instantly with a painful groan.

And I smiled.

Thank goodness...!

It was silly of me, worrying about nothing.

And yet I continued.

Every single morning.

Every single morning, I felt the need to make sure you wake up properly with my own two eyes.

And every single night, relentless nightmares plagued me again and again. It was a vicious cycle of paranoia that I dared not speak of to anyone.

Tonight as well, I woke myself up from my nightmare with a scream.

Panting, I decided that I wanted some water, so I changed to human form and walked to my room door.

“Oh,” I saw you standing outside, your hand on the knob of my door as well.

“Something wrong?” I asked, instantly burying the evident fear in my voice.

“I should be asking you that!” you exclaimed, “I heard you scream, is everything alright?”

“Oh. Yes. It’s just a silly nightmare, I’m fine now.”

“You sure?”

“Oui!”

You seemed dubious, but you relented, “Fine. I’ll go grab you a glass of warm water.”

“Merci, Pikario!”

As expected from my twin brother, you saw through me completely. I slouched onto my pillow in defeat.

I’m such a failure of a sister.

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(Rio’s POV)

You are so easy to read.

While I admit that you were quite annoying, coming to wake me up every morning when I could’ve settled with a cheap alarm clock, I understood why you did it.

I could only begin to imagine how devastated you were when I laid dormant on Lumiere’s altar.

I understood that you had to see me open up my eyes every day in order to feel calm, as well as the fact that your fear probably wouldn’t subside any time soon.

I was well-aware that you treasured me to such extent.

And I was also well-aware about your nightmares.

Tonight, for sure.

Every single morning, I tried to laugh with you after your “Bonjour-kira!”.

And every single night, your shaken voice reached my ears. I had my hand on your doorknob.

But every night, I retreated without a word, giving myself countless excuses not to reciprocate the care you showered me through secrets you thought I didn’t know.

Tonight. For sure!

It was a simple task. A few sentences alone would soothe your mind. I just have to say them.

I handed you the glass of water. You drank it, and bid me goodnight. I left, wasting the opportunity handed to me on a silver platter.

I failed once again, even though it was something only I was capable of.

I failed to wake you up from this nightmare tonight as well.

I failed at telling you that you were my beloved sister and I would never, ever leave your side again.

I’m such a failure of a brother.

The End

[just-another-teenage-writer]

Oh wowie, I've gotta WIP

"That should have killed you," I said, pointing the gun at his head. He smirked.

"Darlin', in case you didn’t notice, I'm already dead." Shoot. Well, that explains why he was trying to kill me.

"God damn, go back to Hell and leave me alone." I'm getting so sick of demons. All they want is to drag a soul or two back to Hell with them for their own amusement. Well, I was not going to be some demon's whore. No way.

"Aw, you're no fun. And anyway, I'm not about to leave the mortal world empty handed. And I've got my heart set on one thing darlin'. You." I rolled my eyes.

"You're disgusting, you know that? And you're just going to have to find someone else." He laughed.

"And why is that?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Because I have no intention of going to Hell anytime soon." He burst out laughing. What. The. Fuck. Why didn't anyone ever take me seriously?! "What’s so funny?!" His laughter died down.

"Watch your language darlin'. No one finds a cussing girl attractive. And I don’t just want to drag you to Hell for no reason." I was kinda surprised. I lowered my gun.

"Then...what do you want?" Oh Lord, I was slowly losing my composure. But...he's not like all the other demons I've encountered. He's different. But it's a good different. And it doesn't help that he's quite handsome. "

Darlin', I want your help overthrowing the Devil." I gaped at him.

"Wait, what?!" I was completely shocked. "What kind of demon wants to overthrow Satan?" He just looked at me.

"This kind of demon. And I'd appreciate it if you'd stop just calling me ‘a demon’." I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't catch your name while you were trying to kill me." He sighed.

“Okay, fine. You have a point. Call me Jay." I looked him over.

"That's not your real name, is it? And I'm Chrissy." I stuck out my hand and Jay shook it awkwardly.

"I knew that. And no, Jay isn't my real name. Demons only give their real names to those they trust." He smiled. "So, Chrissy, are you gonna help me or not?" Hmm, do I want to die just to help an unreasonably handsome demon overthrow the big boss of Hell?

"No." Jay blinked at me.

"Why not? With Satan gone, we could stop demons from killing who they please and dragging their souls back to Hell with them." I bit my lip.

"Well, I don't give a damn." That was a straight up lie, and it looks like Jay knows it.

"You give so many damns, they're visible from SPACE, Chrissy. Don't deny it." He studied my face. I could feel my face coloring as he stared. "Ah, you're afraid of dying, is that it? Don't be." I looked away and Jay stepped closer to me, now just inches away. "Actually, you have every right to be scared," he murmured. "Death hurts. It's awful. But for this don't you think it's worth it?" "I stared into his eyes, trying to find something to help me say no. But there was nothing. "What do ya say Chrissy? Your life, or that of thousands?" I swallowed loudly.

"That is the most cliché bullshit I've ever heard Jay. And fine." He smiled slightly.

"Good. Now, how do you want to die? Stabbing, shooting, burning, hanging, drowning, trauma, strangulation, suffocation, poisoning?" Um... I don't even know. How the hell is a person supposed to choose how they want to die?

"Er... Just shoot me. With my gun. Here." I held my gun out to Jay and he took it. He took a few steps back and aimed the gun at my head.

"I'm not gonna lie, this is gonna hurt. A lot. See ya in Hell Chrissy." He squeezed the trigger and I stumbled back. Immense pain shot through my skull, like the world’s worst migraine, everything going blurry and then just...black.

"Is she ever going to wake up? We need to get moving."

"You took three weeks to wake up Jay, so be quiet. The girl is quite amazing. She should be awake soon." I groaned and my eyes fluttered open.

"You guys talking about me? Well, I'm awake " I winced, biting the inside of my cheek. Ugh, I had a splitting headache. Maybe that's normal for someone who just got shot in the head though...

"It's about time darlin'." Jay flashed me a smile.

"Is it normal for the dead to have headaches? Because I have two. One of which is standing right in front of me," I deadpanned. I've known Jay less than two days now and I already want to punch him in the face. He stuck his lower lip out in a pout.

"Well, you're not very nice, are you? And guess what?" He grinned. "You're stuck with me for eternity." The other demon swatted Jay on the arm.

"Let the poor girl be. Chrissy, can you sit up?" I nodded slightly and sat up. He smiled at me. "Great. You two should be able to get going by tomorrow. And I'm Leo by the way." Sitting up, I could actually get a good look at Leo. He had messy jet black hair, green eyes, pale skin, a set of adorable dimples. He looked kinda short, around 5’4”-ish. He wasn't exactly handsome as much as cute. Jay, on the other hand, would be extremely handsome if he wasn't such an asshat. Caramel brown hair. Hazel eyes. Tall as heck. Fucking freckles. And his damn southern accent. Argh I hate him.

"So, darlin', how was dying?" Ugh.

"Painful. How was killing me? Hmm?" He smirked.

"Very enjoyable, especially considering you don't seem to like me much. And considering you shot me. Twice. You're quite trigger happy, you know?" I rolled my eyes.

"And you're quite annoying, you know?" I mocked him, doing a terrible southern accent. Jay dramatically put a hand over his heart, feigning offense.

"How rude." Leo rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Jay, leave Chrissy alone. Seriously. She's already going to have to deal with your ass until you do what you're trying to do. Come on, let's let her rest." I smiled at him.

"Thanks Leo." He smiled back. "Don't thank me. I'm about to let you go off with Jay tomorrow." Leo turned and grabbed Jay's arm and dragged him out of the room. I closed my eyes and started to drift off before it hit me. My eyes flew open.

"Shit. I'm a demon." I was now the very thing that tore my life apart.

I’d just gotten out of school, it was my 9th birthday. Jackie pulled up in front of the school, smiling widely. “Happy birthday Chris!” I giggled, getting into his car.

“Thanks Jackie.” He drove me home, blasting Nirvana. I hopped out of the car, expecting my parents to come running out the door and hug me, wish me happy birthday again. But they didn’t come out. I blinked, staring at our front door while Jackie opened it. I walked in and went towards the living room before letting out an ear-piercing scream. Jackie came running and stopped dead in his tracks staring at exactly what I had seen. There was blood all over the walls, a smashed cake on the floor… And the cold lifeless bodies of our parents, ripped open. Jackie grabbed me, attempting to pull me away, but I didn’t move. I couldn’t. I was frozen. My jaw was slack and my face pale, tears streaming down my face. “N-No…” I mumbled, shaking my head. “Mom...Mommy! Dad…” I dropped to my knees, starting to sob, pulling away from Jackie completely. The cops showed up a few minutes later, along with an ambulance and some paramedics. They took Mom's and Dad’s bodies away. I didn’t want them too, I tried to stop them. But they just put me in the back of a police car along with Jackie. They questioned us, asking us when we’d last seen them. And then a few days later Jackie got a call. That call… It was exactly what we didn’t want to hear. Demon’s killed Mommy and Dad. Demons did it. The creatures of my nightmares. The things no one would have expected to be in our little town. After that phone call, Jackie took me to my aunt’s house and...and just left me there.

He left me and never came back. I haven’t seen him since. And I probably won’t ever see him again. Goddammit, why did I do this to myself?! I’m such an idiot. “Overthrow Satan” my ass. Why did I fall for that? It was obviously a trick… And yet… I don’t really think it was. I don’t know, something in Jay’s eyes told me that it wasn’t a lie, wasn’t fake. I don’t know. I tried to sit up, immediately feeling dizzy. Ignoring that, I stood up, wobbling slightly. “I’m not just gonna stay in bed…” I took a step forward, bracing myself against the wall, still wobbling. I headed towards the door, hearing faint voices from down the hall, probably Leo and Jay. A foot away from the door or so, the dizzy feeling intensified. My vision went blurry and I felt my body falling towards the ground. “Fuck-” My head hit the wall and a sharp pain shot through my skull. I heard the door open and someone mutter something… What was it? Something like “Oh darlin’...” A hand slid under my back just before everything went black again.

I woke up, groaning softly. “Uggh…” I opened my eyes, trying to sit up, but a pair of hands pushed me back down.

“Take it easy darlin’, stay there.”

Ugh it’s Jay… I sighed, my gaze flitting over to him. “...I hate you.”

“I know you do. But you still need to rest, no matter how strong your hatred is. The more well rested you are, the easier it’ll be to express that hatred.” Aaand there’s that grin of his again. Goddammit, dimples and all. It’s horrible that one smile can make me practically melt. “You’re staring Chrissy,” he teased, his grin growing.

“Am not!” I growled, hitting him over the head with a pillow. “And even if I was, at least I wasn’t watching you while you slept like some sort of creep!”

“You passed out. I was just makin’ sure you were gonna be okay. You can get injured, even if you’re dead y’know.”  

[andsotheadventurebeginsblog]

Slaying Demons on the Autumn 100.

I sit here 5 days after completing the biggest physical challenge of my life to date with sore shins, suspected stress fractures, and a totally renewed sense of calm. I did it. I ran 100 miles in under 24 hours.

The night before the race I meet up with Dave, who is glorious, and we go and get some dinner and drink way more wine than any real athlete would even consider healthy. I feel calm. Nervous but calm. Tomorrow I do the thing I love doing the best. After fractured sleep we get up, eat and get to the village hall where the race goes out from. There are a LOT of men here. A lot. There are many people I admire, there are women that have run literally hundreds of 100 mile races, there are men who have done it in under 14 hours there are ultra legends and there is me.

Me standing here in a semi trance, feeling sick and feeling excited and unable to worry about my broken mental state because I have to achieve this. I get my number from Lou - a friend of mine from the online running group I am a part of. She is wonderful and gives me a hug and tells me how excited she is for me. I tell her I’m scared. Because I am. Then at 10.10am on Saturday the 21st October I take the first steps on a 200,000 step journey to running 100 miles. I chat to people, I try and hold my nerve and keep it slow. The pack thins out and it’s very slippery underfoot. My legs feel heavy and I realise I am not enjoying this at all. It’s fairly lonely on these runs. You get people that want to chat and people that definitely don’t. At the first aid station I meet Dan Barrett - he’s so lovely and kind to me. I wonder why. We’ve only met a few times. After 12 miles I bump into someone I met running Bournemouth Marathon - he remembers me - we exchange pleasantries and on I go. I’m really not feeling this today. I am 13 miles in and bored and already tired. This doesn’t bode well.

I get to the 25 mile mark in 5 hours. All on time. All as planned. I didn’t like that leg. I get my drop bag and get changed into a new long sleeve top and have a couple of sandwiches. I feel tired and slightly out of it. I feel a bit hopeless and lost. I get confused as to what I need and what I don’t. I try and do the change over as fast as possible and get out for the second leg. I leave my mobile charger and battery pack in my drop bag. I am an idiot. I am not strategising. It seems like SUCH a long way. I have 75 miles to go and I feel rubbish.

I get my headphones out and put on a podcast. The second leg is better - more forest and the ridgeway is beautiful. Theres technical paths weaving through forests and Kites soar over the fields. These are the trails I love - I feel like I am finally starting to get into my stride, but Storm Brian is on his way and he brings rain and 50mph wind that squalls across the open fields and makes the trails into wet wind tunnels. I nearly get blown over a couple of times but I feel stronger. I have fuelled properly. I love sandwiches. At the 37 mile turnaround point are kids in halloween costumes helping with water. They remind me of my nieces and nephews and make me smile. For the first time I know I will finish this. I’m on the way back. The way back to Goring village hall, to my beloved sister who is pacing me for the next 25 miles. It’s getting dark, I get my head torch out but the route is fraught with obstacles in the shape or tree roots and holes and I fall over twice - once into a patch of stinging nettles - once in a puddle. Classy. My phone runs out of battery. No music. My watch is dying - no mileage or time. I manage to catch up with the guy in front about 3 miles from the halfway point and we chat - he’s lovely and time flies by.

The village hall comes into view - another 5 hour leg. Right on time. And I see my mum and her husband and my sister and three of my best friends who have come to surprise me from London. I double take. WTF. What the hell are they doing here?! I am overwhelmed with love and joy but I don't think it shows. I am in a trance like state. They have come all the way from London to see me for nothing more than a few minutes as I hastily try and get changed and get nutrition sorted. That’s amazing. I can’t tell them how much it means to me. It’s so above and beyond I can’t fathom it. My mum looks a bit worried - my sister is very excited. My friends are warm and cuddly and drunk and I love them. I get changed, I get a hot meal I say thank you and then me and my sister are out, back out into the night. It is 8.20pm. I have been running for 10 hours and I have run 50 miles.

I’m walking as fast as I can trying to guzzle down my dehydrated pasta meal, trying to ignore the tell tale warnings my legs are giving me that I’ve run a long way. I have done this part of the route before. But in the daytime. Night is a totally different game. The ridgeway is exposed and it’s so windy and pitch black. The light from my head torch confuses me.  We are running head on into the wind and it’s soul destroying. My sister is brilliant - she has fresh legs and bags of enthusiasm and I feel bad I can’t keep up with her. I am stuffing my face with as much food as I can but I’ve started to feel sick and tired. And then come the hallucinations. I can see people laying by the side of the road in the foetal position. My sister comments on the beautiful horizon. The beautiful horizon is actually a fence. I dodge things crossing the path in front of me - but there is nothing crossing the path in front of me. We get to an aid station at the top of a hill. It’s in a Luton Van because otherwise it would just blow away. I get coffee and snacks and a cuddle from Lou - plus the personal goodie bag she’s prepped for me that includes the all important mini bottle of jagermeister (I am a pro athlete). 4 Miles til turn around point so we press on - my sister is talking to me about everything and anything. We listen to music and start talking utter nonsense. Then we see the turnaround point adorned in lights but we can’t work out if we’re hallucinating or it’s real. Its 11pm. We are knackered.

A quick coffee then back down the ridgeway with the wind at our backs - it’s like a totally different night. The wind makes all the difference and now the stars are out and its very beautiful. We listen to Foo Fighters. We sing along. We’re trying to stay awake and running. We come across a huge puddle. This wasn’t here on the way out. Shit. We’ve gone the wrong way. It’s so dark and so hard to work out where we are. We retrace our steps and get back on track - we lose about 15 mins but I am determined to get back to the village hall. If I can get back there I can do the final leg. We come in at 2.45am. The last leg has taken 6 and a half hours. I have now run 75 miles.

I hug my sister and send her on her way back to my hotel to sleep. It’s now that I pick up my final pacer Lee. Lee’s pretty experienced when it comes to these huge distances and I trust him implicitly. He knows I am knackered. He knows I am confused and does his best to help as I grab my newly charged watch and some food and spare batteries and get changed for the 4th time. We set out along the Thames Path to Reading at an OK pace but now my legs have started to hurt. My shins are burning. I take some codeine and try and get through it. Lee is a dream and a nightmare. In doing his job as pacer, he becomes the single most important and annoying person in my life. He is making me eat. He is making me drink. I don't want to eat. I get pretty angry with him but he’s having none of it. I eat sandwiches, I drink water and coffee. We keep pushing forward. We’re breaking it up by running and walking but the walking breaks are getting longer and longer and I know I have to keep a 14 min mile pace to break 24 hours. We get to the aid station, quick turnaround and then back out into the dark only to find another aid station a mile down the course. Hang on. It’s the same aid station. We’ve come round in a fucking circle. How the fuck have we done that? Nevermind, on we go. Lee is so chirpy, shouting encouragement at the other runners who say nothing back or just grunt. I imagine they would punch him if they had the energy. It’s 4am and I am running through Reading. I am talking to the swans and ducks, I’m telling Lee his music choices are shit. And then we get to the turnaround point. It’s up some stairs. SOME STAIRS.

I grab a load of fruit and eat about 7 pieces of watermelon - the sugar and gels are making me feel terrible and I am just craving fruit. We head back out. We head back to the village hall for the last time. Its is not about 6am. Birds have started to sing and the end is in sight. Lee is doing a great job of working out times and how fast we need to go to make it sub 24. He keeps telling me I am 10th woman but I don’t care. I just want to finish. Then at about 7am it happens - the sky breaks and the sun begins to come up. It’s another day. I have to finish. I am in a lot of pain and Lee is still making me eat. We are walking and running and walking and running and I am using Lee’s poles because my legs hurt so much. We get the the aid station 4 miles from home. We zip in and out. I am on the way home.

The last 4 miles were such a mix of emotion. I knew I was going to do it,  and everything hurt. My skin hurt. My eyes hurt. My legs hurt. I was very quiet but inside my head was raging. I had a little cry. I walked on ahead of Lee and had a little cry, I think with tiredness more than anything else. Those miles dragged and dragged and everyone we met along the way - the early morning fishermen and the people walking their dogs had a different distance to tell us… “Just 3 miles left” “it’s only a mile!” ARGH!

The one thing I won’t ever forget though, is the feeling that I had beaten the Demon. The Demon that tells me I am not good enough and riots through my head an stomach. That fucking Demon was beaten. Of course there are others in there but the big one was gone and I know I can beat them. I realised the extent of what I had done 3 miles from the end. I am strong. I can keep going physically and mentally.

When I came into the hall and saw my mum, when my sister ran down the last part of the path to meet me, when I saw how proud they all were of me, the Demon was beaten. 100 miles. 23hours 35 minutes. The Demon was beaten.

I am so happy to finish. I am so happy. My adrenaline is high and I pose for the pictures and get undressed and everyone helps me and I am so glad, and I put on my one piece and I step outside. I am shaking and I have to sit down because I think I might be sick. My mum comes with my things and puts me in the car like a baby. She helps me upstairs at the hotel and I just get in bed and curl up, all grubby and sweaty. I find a note form my sister which tells me how proud she is. It makes me cry so much because I love her so much and I am so proud of her.

I just want to sign this off with a thank you to everyone that helped me on this particular journey - my Mum and her husband Jim for their unwavering support. My sister, Janey Wise for her support and pacing and being the best friend and biggest inspiration I could ever ask for. The wonderful David Harvey for his time and patience and training and being brilliant (#withyoueverystep). Lee Stuart-Evans for his advice and pacing and force feeding of an angry toad (me). Tom, Abi, Amy and Lauren for trekking out to see me for 2 mins on a cold October night - thank you, I love you. Lou and Dan from the BBR group - thanks for all your support and encouragement at the aid stations.

This story does not end here.

TBC