#buddy and i have been on a wild goose chase trying to figure out a baffling coment regarding the orphan of cos and the vague “Japanese Myth”
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What is it with souls fans and being unable to draw their own conclusions? I'd put a 20 down that i could convince you Shadow of Moses was real if i spoke in a low and slow voice with highschool presentation inflection.
#buddy and i have been on a wild goose chase trying to figure out a baffling coment regarding the orphan of cos and the vague “Japanese Myth”#the closest we came was a vague notion of a whale cult with dubious sourcing#now count me a doubter but i think all the innsmouth business in lovecraft's work would be a better fit no?
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Hasn't had a puff in 210 years...
So being a medical cannabis user and general enjoyer of the herb, I of course downloaded Cannabis Commonwealth for my new Fallout 4 game.
Now, Cannabis Commonwealth is a great mod. Lots of thought was put into it, and the growing mechanic is about as close to realistic as you can get with this game engine. Also, the plant models are gorgeous. And it’s funny as hell when I have Morgan light up a joint and she stands there smoking and literally refuses to do anything else until she’s done. Relatable, especially after 210 years…
That said, there’s only one flaw to the whole experience. One tiny thing that left me frustrated and going on wild goose chases for days. That is: I couldn’t figure out who in the hell in the entire Commonwealth was selling buds and seeds.
Now, for those who have installed this mod and are faced with the same question: Rachel, Dr. Forsythe’s assistant down in Vault 81, is the sole person that I have found with the hookup. Apparently, she’s been running a little side business behind everyone's back. She restocks every 48 hours like a standard merchant, and each time her sale list includes at least a few buds and types of seeds.
I found this out completely by accident after checking every merchant, trader, doctor, and drug pusher I could think of and going on multiple wild-goose chases. Vault 75 has a giant chem stash according to a junkie’s note? Look there. Vault 95 is notorious for its huge stock of prewar chems? Let’s try there. The big losers in this whole exercise were the Gunners, which was hilarious.
I’m just imagining Gunners seeing a furious Minutemen General in full colors plowing her way through two of their bases, including their vault of origin and secondary base of operations, while they try to figure out which of their many, many crimes has actually brought her wrath down on them.
Gunner in Vault 95: This is a general alert to Headquarters and to all tertiary bases and squads within comm range. We are under attack by the Minutemen General, her second in command, three robots, and a dog. Lock down all bases immediately and prepare for attack.
Gunner in Vault 75: Mike, what the hell is going on over there?
95: It’s Corporal Miller--oh fuck it, I’m probably gonna die anyway. It’s a complete shitstorm, Joey. She’s reprogrammed most of our robots to add to her force, our turrets are shut down and our recruits are dropping like flies.
75: Oh God. What the hell caused this? Is it because of Quincy? Or our attacks on her settlements?
95: It could also be retaliation for when we kidnapped her buddy Jake and beat the shit out of him, or when we killed Old Paul, or when we interrogated The Ron including breaking bones and snatching his wig…
75: …wow. We’ve, uh, done a lot to piss her off, haven’t we?
95: Yep. And there’s no telling which one was the last straw…
Morgan, meanwhile: WHERE’S THE FUCKING WEED YOU TIN-SOLDIER ASSHOLES I KNOW YOU’RE HOLDING OUT ON ME
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Title: The Sky Blues
Author: Robbie Couch
Genre: YA Fiction | Mystery | Drama | Friendship | LGBTQ+
Content Warnings: Homophobia | Racism | Child Abuse/Neglect
Overall Rating: 10/10
Personal Opinion: This is the future liberals want. Sky Baker is the only openly gay kid at his school in a small Midwest town but when his promposal scheme gets outed, he finds that he has more allies than he initially believed. His best friends, his crush, and even a whole bunch strangers rally around him to show that they will not be bullied. Without meaning to, Sky starts a movement that gives people courage. Him and his wonderfully amazing chosen family.
Do I Own This Book? Yes! This was another Christmas gift that I bought for myself and it’s definitely one of my top 5 all-time favorite books.
Spoilers Below For My Likes & Dislikes:
- Firstly, this is just proof that I have an amazing gaydar when it comes to book characters. I knew, from the moment Teddy said to Sky, “I like your shoes, where’d you get them?” that he was gay for Sky. Like fullblown homosexual. The way Sky’s unreliable narrator ass kept on emphasizing that Teddy was “probably straight” really gave me a home run feeling though. It was so obvious that he was being set up as the new love interest to take over after Ali Rashid was out of the picture and it worked so well! I don’t know if anyone else would’ve caught the hints that early on but I loved it. It was brilliantly set up and Teddy’s reactions to and around Sky were just so adorable when you have that context. Once we got to the big promposal scene, it was over for me. I figured out that Teddy was going to prompose to Sky there but I hadn’t been expecting him to do it with the yellow roses and the movie ticket stubs and the tracksuit! Oh my god, all those questions Marshall asked about how to prompose to Ainsley were all recon for his sports buddy to ask out his best friend! See, I did find it strange that Ainsley and Sky had the same favorite color but I hadn’t put two and two together. And the fact that she seemed to have never been to the LMEP before even though Marshall was going to give her the movie ticket stubs as a promposal gift. He was wing-manning for Teddy and he did it so well! The scene where Marshall found out that Sky thought their track uniforms were sexy though was funny. And Teddy really did all that for Sky! Oh, I bet he felt like he had no chance when the e-blast with the promposal pics were sent out. But he still went and checked in on his crush despite that! And I’m guessing Marshall (who didn’t know the wall existed either) was extra pissed at Sky because he felt like he led his friend on a wild goose chase, going after a boy who was already crushing on someone else. Ugh, but then Teddy and Sky got close over the course of the book and it just went so well for them and it makes me so happy, thinking about them together because it’s what Sky deserves. I do wish we got to see more of the two of them dating but their love story isn’t the point of the novel, I get it. It’s about Sky finding his true family. His own chosen family!
- His chosen family! I am such a sucker for that trope but this book nailed it! Sky was kicked out of his home by his own mother during winter break so he had to go live with Bree’s parents. And her family easily accepted him into the house. They teased him over his Ali crush with no judgment and supported him through that traumatizing event of having his crush outed. They didn’t force him to go to school until he was ready. They made him feel included in the house. Ray and Petey are sweethearts that always delivered his food and Clare made sweet treats for him too! And even though Gus, Sky’s brother, is a dick who called him a “faggot” and didn’t even try to give his own brother a home after he’d been disowned, Bree and Marshall were there for him. Winter said it best, they would go to the ends of the earth for Sky. And they’re the kind of friends that are worth fighting for. It’s no wonder why she came to mind when that sales lady told him to “think of the best person” as he was struggling to choose a paint swatch to paint his room. And Charlie and Brian are like his gay uncles! Charlie being his dad’s best friend and living proof that Henry Baker would have been so proud of his son and the man he became. And Brian even gave Sky a job at his tattoo parlor! And covered up Mars with a tattoo that was in memory of his father! Like, I just love this chosen family so much because Sky could not have chosen better. Not just all these people either. Teddy, Ali, Ainsley, Dan, Christina, and Carolyn were all there walking beside Sky. The Yearbookers and total strangers stood by them. It was so beautiful to see and having confirmation that this is 2021 just made it all the better because yes, this is the present we want. The future I want. This “heterosexual hellscape” as Sky put it, wasn’t so bad. Especially not with Dan, a trans kid, starting a GLOW (Gays, Lesbians, or Whatever) club on campus. And with the new lesbian Mrs. Choi (Asian and married to a woman!) as the advisor too!
- The comedy in this book is so on point. My favorites come to mind when Bree called her dad and her sister and hung up on them just as they were going to mention the clam chowder that Clare made. And also with Marshall cracking the fuck up during the promposal scene as it dawned on Sky that Teddy’s been into him since forever. It is just brilliantly done and set up. And I loved each and every one of their dynamics because the comedy truly enhanced it.
- The mystery of how Cliff was able to get those photos and hack into Memories was such an intriguing point because I really had no idea how he had pulled it off. But as they slowly pieced it together (one of the construction workers in the basement being his cousin, his buddy using two phones to get the photo and access to the Memories app), it became so clear and clever. And then the queen, Carolyn, really went and broke into Cliff’s phone for the evidence, lmfao, she got him good.
- Winter? Icon. She’s worldly and cool and tough and she’s so proud of her students for coming up with the gay shirts idea and shoving it in the faces of those bigoted bullies. She also stood up to her own boss when Principal Burger tried to put a stop to the shirts. He had the fucking audacity to say that they were “distracting” like they were spaghetti straps. Dress code is stupid and I love that Winter said “Fuck you, I’m not enforcing that rule.” And when she and Sky and Ali went off with that “Have you gotten any progress on the investigation on the person who called them a faggot and a terrorist?” Like, come on dude, it’s 2021. Get with the goddamn program. As I was saying, Winter? A queen. I have so much respect for her especially as the person who gave Sky her yearbook and orchestrated him going to meet Charlie. She knew how to help without overstepping and I just have the utmost respect for her as a person and an ally. She knew he wouldn’t listen to her but he would listen to a gay man and the words of his dad calling that very gay man, “The toughest guy I know.” My god, that scene made my heart squeeze in the best way! And Charlie is really living his best life. He’s got a super hot inked husband and a cute friendly dog (named Robert!) and a big house! Respect to everyone. I do hope Winter and Charlie reconnect too.
- Also, I just remembered the other funny scene where Bree texted Sky to get Brian’s phone number for her. “Bree, he’s like 35.” “So?” Like that would be me. Same girl.
- Sky and Marshall relating in the ways they hide their “otherness” hit so hard. Same with Ali too actually. And also, I will usually hate when best friends fight in books. But this made so much sense. What Sky said to Bree was fucking low but it makes sense given what just happened. And he wanted to apologize immediately when he said it too. And him ignoring Marshall? Also makes sense. I am going to guess that when he responded to Teddy’s DM and not to him was also a big blow too. It’s tough. I get it. I absolutely get policing your gayness around “the hets.” It’s scary because you don’t know how much otherness is too much. Marshall hated being excluded from his best friend’s life but he got it being a black person. Sneaking snacks and blaring music from his car? All signs point to an altercation with the cops. I love all of their friendships and I love how they felt guilty about making Sky use money to apologize to the two of them. They are really great friends and Sky will fight to be with them. Because he knows they’re worth it. And he and Teddy and Ainsley are all going to community college so Marshall’s definitely stuck with them. Dan also still has a year there. I also just realized why he was so standoffish that day at the LMEP. But anyway, as Bree’s boyfriend, she’s also stuck there. I also adore that Ali is exploring his nerdier side. Teddy was right when he said that Sky’s gay movement was giving people courage. They were all changing for the better and expressing themselves in ways they hadn’t even thought possible before. Their bravery and their unabashed selves are so inspiring.
- Yearbook Prom! And the gay shirts too! Ugh, Winter is just so awesome. She really stuck it to the men trying to control her beloved students. And she clearly loves her job too. I just wish I had a teacher like her.
- Honestly, I’m still stuck on the gay shirts bit. Teddy choosing to be gay for Sky was so cute! I actually teared up because that was him being real and Sky had no idea.
Dislikes:
- Fuck Cliff Norquest but he’s a bit of a necessary evil. He was shut down so well and I’m glad he barely showed up throughout the book. Because he truly didn’t matter in this story. Like Winter said, Sky needed to focus on the people that mattered. Not asses like him. Speaking of which, fuck Victor Bungle. It made me so happy that Ali was a brown kid and he was popular just for being nice but of course a rat bastard would also be popular if he was a jock and conventionally good-looking. He really tried to be like “I’m not homophobic but…” and it backfired on him lmao. He just added fuel to the gay fire as even more people rallied behind Sky and put on the shirts. Did they get banned from prom? Yes. Did it matter when Winter hosted her own prom and Bree offered her house as a venue and so many other students offered their own services for cheap? Because that was so amazing. I’m willing to bet more people showed up to the Yearbook prom than regular prom which of course means that the school wasted money, resources, and more. Ugh, Cliff and Bungle and Burger are disgusting but all necessary evils for the student body to enact real change. Is it a bit unrealistic? Maybe. But it’s a present and future I would love to see someday.
- Fuck Sky’s biological family. But a theme in the book is chosen family so again, necessary evil. I hate them but at least they will never be in Sky’s life again. They don’t deserve him. Meanwhile, the Brandstones are prepared to take him in as their fifth child and raise him as their own.
- Honestly, my only real qualm is that the town is overwhelmingly white. But they acknowledged it as such by mentioning that there were only like four POC among the student body. Still, the fact is, the POC were good people. And I love that even though only four of them existed, half of them got main character roles.
- I do wonder what had attracted Teddy to Sky in the first place. It seems like they didn’t even know each other that well until Marshall joined the track team. I wonder if Teddy had planned on coming out by promposing to Sky (the only out gay boy at their school) but as time went on, he started to fall for Sky for real. Because I do feel like, over the course of the book, they got closer and those butterflies Sky felt around Teddy became mutual. I just hope it’s not a case of “Oh, this guy is the only other gay guy at school so I will just fall for him.” But to be honest, it doesn’t feel that way because Sky fell for Ali who is straight. So it stands to reason that Teddy didn’t fall for Sky just because he was the only option. His feelings are real. And when he held Sky’s hand and asked if he needed anything while Sky was getting his tattoo done by Brian, I fell for him myself a bit more. Also when Sky kept on noticing Teddy’s huge shot-put muscles, I thought that was not only comedic genius but adorably gay. And when Teddy called Mars “badass” too! Like he really gave his crush so much confidence and he really had no idea! I love their relationship so much and I can’t find much to dislike about in this book at all.
#Booklr#Booksbooksbooks#Book Blog#Book Review#Book Recs#The Sky Blues#Robbie Couch#LGBTQ#Queer Books#Queer Lit#Queer Representation#Seriously y'all are missing out if you don't read this book#It's so good and charming and adorable
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Black ribbon and silver bows
The fifth of may meant that there were exactly 2 months until Draco turned 17. Draco had gone above and beyond for your birthday, spoiling you with 17 individually wrapped gifts that he sent you on a wild goose chase around the school to find. You wanted to make him equally as special as he made you feel, but what did you get the boy who could get anything he wanted?
You thought about getting him a pet, but you didn’t think his mother would appreciate a cat roaming around the halls of the Malfoy Manor. Then you thought about getting him a broom, but as usual, Draco already had the best of the best. Your mind turned to clothes, but the man only wore black shirts with tailor-made trousers.
“Still thinking about what to get Draco?” Blaise’s voice asked, pulling you from your thoughts.
“Ugh yes, anything I think of, he already has”
“You’re fault for choosing rich, should have dated a Weasley, they’d be over the moon with an unworn robe”
You smacked Blaise’s arm “Don’t be so rude, Blaise. Just because you don’t like them doesn't mean you can be a prick”
“Why don’t you make him something? I’m sure the elves would let you sneak into the kitchen to cook, you could draw something, write him a poem”
If you were a cat, your ears would have pricked at hearing the word ‘draw’, Draco was never a fan of the decorations in his room, maybe you could paint him a painting that he could hang up on his wall.
“You might have just saved Draco’s birthday”
The increase of chatter across the library hinted that your free period was over and it was now time for lunch. You and Blaise collected your things and returned the books to the returns trolley before making your way to the great hall. You bumped into Draco, Pansy and Daphne on your way there. The five of you made your way to the Slytherin table to see Crabbe and Goyle already tucking in.
“Why am I not surprised that you two gluttons are the first on the table?” Blaise asked, throwing his school bag down and taking a seat.
The rest of your group sat down as well, the elves had made different variations of chicken wraps for lunch today. You picked up a grilled chicken wrap and began eating it, famished after your hour of revision during your free period. You had just finished the first one when Draco said your name.
“You’ve got sauce on your mouth, darling”
You stuck your tongue out trying to lick it off but you kept missing.
“Hold still a sec” Draco instructed. He used his thumb to wipe the spot of sauce from your mouth, licking it off his thumb once he was done.
“Ah my saviour!” you fake swooned.
He laughed and continued to eat his lunch. You wolfed another half of a wrap before feeling full.
“Are we still revising for charms after dinner?” Daphne asked, looking up from her homework.
“I’m on it, but the boys have quidditch practise until 7, so they’ll have to join in later” You replied, snapping the lid of your lip balm back on
“Actually, practice is cancelled, so Blaise and I’ll be there” Draco added, downing the rest of his pumpkin juice.
“Y/N, you alright?”
Your head whipped around to see Neville Longbottom standing behind you.
“Are you lo-” Draco began to sneer
You pinched the outside of his thigh making him grit his teeth instead of finishing his sentence. “Neville, hi”
“I just wanted to return your charms notes, they were dead useful, thanks,” He said with a light blush, holding your pile of notes out.
“Oh, thank you. I’m so glad you found them helpful” You took the notes from him with a smile.
“Have a nice rest of the afternoon,”
“You too Neville,”
He returned to his friends and your friends turned onto you.
“Why are you so nice to him?” Blaise demanded.
“Oh merlin, when are you guys going to get over this rivalry, he needed help, so I helped him.”
“He’s also Longbottom”
You rolled your eyes. “Anyways, does anyone want to let me copy the last two questions for the dada homework?”
Daphne slid her roll of parchment over to you and you quickly scribbled the answers. Just as you had screwed on the cap for your ink lid, the bell for your next lesson rang. Nowadays your lessons were less structured, it was two months before exam season which meant the teachers pushed to revise topics rather than introducing new ones. Some teachers preferred to let you get on in groups doing your own thing, others had a strict revision lesson planned. But one thing was for certain exams had definitely taken over your life.
After your charms revision session with your friends, you and Draco found yourselves walking up to the astronomy tower. The sun was beginning to set as you nestled yourself into his lap.
“Don’t you think it’s mad that in a couple of years we won’t be able to do this anymore?” You asked, tightening his arms around you.
“We can watch the sunset from anywhere love”
“Ha ha you know what I mean idiot”
“I’m ready to leave this place”
“Sorry Mr ‘I should have been in Durmstrang’”
“I should have, my father agreed more with their curriculum”
“Maybe cause his old death eater buddy was running it”
“He’s your father's old death eater buddy too”
“My father never thought about sending me to Durmstrang”
“That’s because it’s a boys-only school, love”
“I don’t like you”
“That’s because you love me,”
“Speaking of love, do you remember the first moment you realised you loved me?”
He paused “As a matter of fact I do”
“Do tell, Mr Malfoy”
“We were at that party at the Parkinson’s in our 3rd year. You had a silver dress on. Your mum forced you into these heels and you hated them. You wobbled over to me and clung to my arm the whole night. But as soon as we were shooed away from the adults, you took them off and practically shoved them into my hands and started walking around barefoot. Pansy’s grandmother came out of the parlour and saw you without your shoes on and went berserk, she called you a disgrace, all our mothers came out to see what was going on and I’m pretty sure your mum looked like she was going to kill you”
“I remember that! Then I transfigured her ostrich feather boa into a snake around her neck!”
“She nearly pissed her pants” He laughed, causing you to smile.
“So is that your favourite memory of us?”
“No, my favourite memory takes place in our 4th year at the Yule ball. I didn’t want to dance in front of all those idiots but you pulled me up there anyway. But as soon as you held my hand it was like they all disappeared and it was just me and you. I spun you out and when you spun back into my arms, I dipped you and you looked so beautiful. But that is fighting for the top spot from the time you sucked me off in the restricted section, and the time you floo’ed into my room last summer at 2 am and I absolutely ruined you”
“Okay okay I get the picture your favourite memories are when we have sex”
“Not all of them, just some, what’s yours?”
“5th year, Christmas break, your parents’ Christmas party, you hid my promise ring inside my dessert” you held your hand up letting your ring sparkle in the candlelight, it was simple, a small princess cut emerald on a gold band, but it was oh so precious “You kept staring at me and I was so confused, I wasn’t even looking at what I was eating until you jerked my hand back and told me to look in the spoon and there it was. You cleaned it off and slid it on my finger right in front of everyone. Or maybe it was the time you made me sit on your face when we snuck into a room at the leaky cauldron”
Draco laughed and lifted your hand up and played with the ring. “After we finish Hogwarts, I’m gonna replace this ring with a diamond one”
“You are?”
“Why do you sound so surprised, I told you already I was going to change your last name to mine, even your parents know”
“I know but I didn’t know you wanted to do this so early"
“Of course I do, why wouldn’t I?”
“You are so whipped”
Draco shoved you off him playfully.
“But it’s okay because I’m equally as whipped” you replied sitting back in his lap.
“You’d better be, otherwise I’d-”
“You’d what? Tell your father?”
“Right, that’s it” His fingers found your sides as he began tickling you. By the time he felt as though he tortured you enough, you were both breathless.
“I love you," He said, smoothing your shirt down.
“I love you more”
“Who’s up here?” Filch’s voice grumbled.
You and Draco grinned at each other as you quickly threw your robes on and lifted the hoods, running straight past Filch and into the Slytherin common room.
You had now learnt what Draco’s favourite memory of you was. All that was left was actually getting around to paint it. If you weren’t in a lesson, you were revising, usually most of the time with Draco. Even on weekends, you found yourself in in the library completing practise exam papers and testing yourself on flashcards. And any time you weren’t working, you and Draco used as an opportunity to spend time with one another without being bogged down with work. You’d already decided that the room of requirement would be the perfect place to start painting, but the issue was figuring out how you’d be able to sneak there and back without arousing suspicion.
After much deliberation, you decided that your best option for sneaking out was on Tuesday and Wednesday nights. Every Tuesday after dinner, Draco and Blaise would go out to the quidditch pitch to blow off some steam, by the time he had finished and showered, you were almost always already in bed. On Wednesday, you decided you’d tell Draco a little white lie and say that Flitwick had asked you to tutor a struggling 5th year in Charms, it would give you a few hours to yourself to get ahead with painting.
The upcoming Tuesday your plan was in action, you made Daphne swear she wouldn’t tell Draco where you were and you made your way to the room of requirement. It was honestly a Godsend. You stepped into a room full of different sized canvasses, there were tubes of oil paint and palettes of watercolours and squeezy bottles of acrylic. A table was full of paintbrushes of different sizes and shapes and there were an easel and chair right in the middle of the room.
You picked out a large rectangular canvas and placed it landscape on the easel and got to sketching the outline of your painting. If all went to plan, it would be a loop of Draco’s favourite memory of the two of you at the ball, if it didn’t well, then it would be a still image and if everything went south, you’d have to somehow find a way to get some lingerie to distract him from your lack of presents.
Painting the canvas was going to be the hard part, sketching the outline, however, was proving to be a huge nightmare already, you had drawn and redrawn Draco’s face about a hundred times, not being able to get it exactly right. You were about to kick a hole in your canvas when a small a5 picture caught your eye, stuck under the foot of the easel. You picked it up to see a photograph of the exact moment you were trying to recreate. This was why you loved this room, taking a deep breath, you redrew Draco’s face finally getting it as you liked it. By the time you had finished the full outline, it was almost two am, you knew you were going to struggle to wake up in the morning, but that was something for future you to deal with, present you had to find a way to sneak out of the room and back to your dormitory without detection.
In order to make as little noise as possible, you took your shoes off and ran across the castle in just your socks, you were only a few steps away from the entrance to the common room before Mrs Norris came around the corner. She meowed loudly as you whisper-shouted the password, the corridor revealing itself. You ran down it and straight up the stairs into your dormitory. You tried to get into bed as quietly as possible before falling asleep.
In hindsight, staying up sketching until 2 am was a horrible idea. It was only 1 in the afternoon and you were struggling to stay awake.
“I don’t get why you don’t just pay someone to paint it for you,” Daphne asked, scrunching a piece of paper into a ball and throwing it in the bin beside you.
“Because then there's no sentimental value behind it” You replied, massaging your temples.
“What time did you fall asleep anyway?”
“By the time I drowned out Pansy’s snoring it was 3, I was just lucky I had a free period first so I ended up getting an hours extra sleep”
“Merlin, remind me to never fall in love”
You laughed before rubbing your eyes and returning to your work.
It took you four weeks of staying up till 2 am to finish Draco’s painting. You had spent hours mixing the right shades of paint, at one point you ended up getting rid of the paint on the whole canvas and starting again but exactly three weeks before Draco’s birthday, you had mastered the spell to make your painted figures move and your masterpiece was complete. Your only worry was that Narcissa Malfoy would hate it and would stop her son from hanging it in his bedroom.
In order to get the huge canvas from the room of requirement back to your dormitory, you had to ask Neville to ask Harry if you could borrow his invisibility cloak. If Draco had found out that you got Harry’s help you were 90% sure he’d be the one kicking a hole in your canvas. For now, the canvas was safely tucked under your bed.
The next morning, you stuffed Harry’s cloak in your bag and made your way down to meet him. You had agreed the previous evening that you’d meet outside Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom before breakfast to make the exchange. As planned, he was stood with Neville right outside the entrance to the toilet. You pulled the cloak out and handed it back to Harry.
“Thank you, I know you and Draco don’t like each other, but it means a lot that you'd go out on a limb to help me.”
“While I question your choice in men, Y/L/N, you’ve helped Neville out on more than one occasion and any friend of Neville’s is a friend of mine.”
You smiled at Harry, “I’m gonna head to breakfast before Draco gets suspicious, see you boys, later”
They waved goodbye as you made your way back to breakfast, stopping in the normal girl's toilet to sort your shirt out which you found you were wearing inside out. Your group of friends were already sat down eating, all but Draco.
“Where is he?” You asked.
“Couple third years said they had to tell him something in private, oh wait, speak of the devil”
You turned and he did not look happy. His jaw was clenched and he was walking oddly fast, he came to you and gripped you firmly by the arm. “Can I speak to you, outside, Y/N”
You looked at him confused but followed him out. As soon as you were out of earshot from the hall he turned around to face you, he looked pissed, he kept walking forward until you were pinned between him and the wall.
“You want to tell me why some friends in 3rd year saw you giving Potter his invisibility cloak back?”
“What?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, darling, we both know you’re not. ‘it looked like she was holding something but there wasn't anything in her hand’. Why did you have his cloak”
“I was planning on recreating that memory of yours in the restricted section for your birthday, I asked Neville if I could borrow Harry’s cloak to get us there and back but then I remembered you wouldn’t have come if we were using his cloak so I gave it back” You lied smoothly
He swallowed and nodded, not moving back. You pushed him off and scoffed.
“Is this what you’re doing now? Sending third years to follow me?”
“You of all people should know I have eyes and ears everywhere.”
“Those eyes and ears shouldn't be snooping on your girlfriend”
“They wouldn’t have to if you weren’t lying to me about where you were for the past month.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Helping a 5th year with Charms as per the request of Flitwick? Well not according to the professor himself”
“Dra-”
He laughed, “Can’t even cover up your lies properly. Why don't I give you a few hours to come up with a cover story, I can’t bear the sight of you right now” Draco turned and walked away, ignoring you as you called out for him.
He acted as though you didn’t exist for all of your lessons, he didn't sit next to you, he didn't speak to you, he barely looked at you. You chose to have dinner alone in your room that night. It had occurred to you during your second period that Draco thought you were cheating on him with Harry. It made sense, you were sneaking around and you were seen giving Harry’s cloak back as if to say that you two had been meeting up in secret under it. But it also made absolutely no sense either, you and Draco had been together since the beginning of your 3rd year. Your father was a death eater for Pete’s sake, it didn’t take a genius to realise you’d be disowned if you brought home Harry fucking Potter.
You were partway through your transfiguration homework when Daphne came bounding up into the dormitory.
“Right, what is going on with you and Draco?” She asked, throwing her bag on the floor and collapsing on her bed.
“Nothing,” You lied.
“See that is absolute bullshit because he has been a moody prick all day and you skipped dinner, so come out with it, spill”
You sighed and explained everything.
“Why don’t you just tell him the truth then?”
“Because if I do, it’ll ruin the surprise”
“And if you don’t it’ll end your relationship, my mother is over the moon at the fact that I’ll be a bridesmaid at a Malfoy wedding, you don’t want to crush her dreams do you?”
“You’re right, do you know where he is?”
“He went straight into his dormitory”
You nodded and made your way there. He was joined by his friends.
“Rest of you out, thanks,” You said, walking in and standing in the middle of the room.
Blaise looked at Draco and he nodded, prompting him, Theodore and Goyle to leave. He refused to look at you. You took a seat at the end of his bed and began to explain.
“I’m well aware you think I’m cheating on you with Potter, but that’s really the complete opposite of what’s happening. The truth is, for the past few weeks, I’ve been arranging your birthday present. I finished it last night and I asked for Harry’s cloak so I could bring it back to my dormitory without revealing the surprise. That’s where I’ve been sneaking off to. Not to go snog Potter under his invisibility cloak”
“Oh”
“Bet you feel really fucking stupid now don’t you,” You scoffed
“I’m sorry, darling,”
“Do you not think? Could you imagine my parents’ reaction if I brought home Potter? They’d disown me faster than you came the first time we-”
He grabbed you into a hug before you could finish your sentence.
“I am truly sorry, princess, for jumping to conclusions and for ruining my surprise.”
“Well, you haven’t totally ruined it, you don’t know what it is yet.”
“Can we come back in yet, I need to get out of this fucking uniform” Theodore shouted from the bottom of the stairs.
Draco shouted back a yeah and his friends returned.
“See you two’ve kissed and made up, about time too, Draco’s a right git when he's moody”
Draco threw a pair of balled-up socks at Blaise’s head before you got up off the bed.
“I’ll meet you in the common room once I’ve finished my homework,” You told him before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He mumbled an okay before kissing you once more and you were on your way.
The next morning, at breakfast, you noticed your father’s owl descend onto the table in front of you. You took the letter expecting him to fly off and return home but he waited expectantly, clearly, he was told to wait until you replied. He hopped up onto your arms as you took him to the owlery to recuperate while you read your letter and replied.
Y/N,
You’re hopefully aware that it is Draco’s birthday in a few weeks, I hope that you have got him an adequate gift. You know how important your 17th birthday is and as I remember, Draco spoilt you with 17 gifts. Since you are a young lady, you're not expected to gift him anything as lavish as some of the presents he gave you, but tradition dictates that you should get him something worthy of a pureblood wizard, in particular jewels. Please reply as soon as possible, only so I know that you won’t embarrass your father and I (and in the case you do, I can send you an alternative). Your brothers and your father send their regards. We miss you.
Mother
You rolled your eyes at her need for keeping up appearances and quickly scribbled her back a reply. You wished you were at home to see her reaction to you gifting him a painting you painted yourself. Once your father’s owl had filled himself up with water and owl feed, you attached the letter to him and sent him on his way.
Later in the evening, your mother’s owl pecked at you through the library window. You went out into the corridor and took a letter and a box off of her. Once you had freed her of her cargo, she hooted and flew off. You opened the second letter and read.
Sweetheart, I know that you are an accomplished young artist, but a painting will simply not do, especially for his 17th birthday. However, since I am your mother and I know you best, I had a feeling I would need to help you in this department. I took the liberty of going into Bourgin and Burke’s on the weekend and purchased a rare black diamond ring for Draco on your behalf. I think he will like it and I think you will too. I hope you are studying well for your exams,
Mother
You tried to rip open the wrapping on the box but it wouldn't move. The fold at the bottom lifted itself up a bit and ran across your finger, giving you a papercut. A thin line of blood collected on its edge and the wrapping dissolved leaving you with a red ring box, she was always partial to a bit of blood magic. You lifted the lid to see a thick silver band, it looked like it was either white gold or platinum, your mother thought sterling silver was too cheap, the oval cut diamond set atop a larger oval of platinum. It wasn't too plain but it also wasn’t overly gaudy, just as Draco liked it. You returned to the library with your second gift, making a note to hide it under your bed with your painting.
The next few weeks went past in a blur of mock exams and constant revision. Your first exam wasn’t until the 10th of June, giving you plenty of time to celebrate Draco’s birthday properly. The night before his birthday, half of Slytherin house was gathered in the common room waiting for it to hit midnight. You asked the elves to bake a cake for him and smuggled it with some snacks to have a small party with your friends.
At 11.59 you pulled a tie out from behind you and held it up.
“Gonna let me tie you up huh?” Draco asked with a smirk.
“Nice try, Malfoy, but this is for you” You replied getting up and tying it around his eyes.
“What are you doing, Y/L/N?”
You pointed your wand at the wall causing birthday banners and streamers to hang. Blaise brought the cake in from the 1st year dormitory. The large grandfather clock donged deeply as it hit midnight, you pulled his blindfold down as the whole common room burst into a rendition of happy birthday. He laughed and put his arm around your waist pulling you into his side. Nott finished the song on a horrible high note as Draco blew his candles out.
“Make a wish, Draco” Pansy shouted.
“I don’t need to, I've got everything I could wish for right next to me.”
You smiled up at him and gave him a kiss before addressing the crowd. “Eat my friends,” You felt like Dumbledore as plates of food dotted themselves around the common room. The attention moved from Draco to the food as everyone got up and attacked.
“Happy birthday, my love,” You said wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Thank you, princess, I wasn’t expecting this at all.”
“Only the best for my boyfriend”
You spent the next few hours playing truth or dare with your housemates, it was cut short when Snape barged into the common room, the decorations were ripped off the wall and the music from the radio stopped.
“I am going to give you until the count of 10 to return to your dormitory, anyone I still see standing here will be spending every weekend for the rest of the year cleaning with filch”
He began to count down from 10 as everyone scrambled to run into their dorms and get into bed.
You were so excited to surprise Draco with his presents that you skipped breakfast, instructing Daphne to tell him to meet you in the astronomy tower. You decided you were going to decorate your spot a little bit, you set up a soft blanket and some cupcakes and hung up the leftover banners and streamers from your midnight party in the common room. You had his gifts wrapped up with ribbon and some bows just to be extra, they sat in the centre of your blanket, the canvas taking up a large chunk of it. You had realised Draco would probably struggle to take the canvas back home, but that would be a problem he would have to deal with later.
“Y/N?” His voice called out from the bottom of the stairs.
“Up here, love” You replied, your head popping up over the bannister.
He broke into a smile when he saw you and rushed up the stairs taking them two at a time. You sat on the edge of the blanket and waited for him.
“Happy 17th birthday, Draco” You exclaimed as he reached the top.
His smile got even wider as he pulled you up and into a tight hug.
“I am so in love with you, do you know that?” he mumbled into your neck.
“I hope you feel the same after you see your presents,”
“Darling, you know you didn’t have to get me anything, you’re the best gift I could have ever received”
“I didn’t have to but I wanted to, here look”
His eyes fell onto the two wrapped gifts, he sat himself down and opened the top present.
“How did you get your hands on this?” he pulled the ring out and examined it closely.
“RIght so backstory to this, my mum didn’t believe that my original present was traditional enough to be a ‘wizard’s 17th birthday present’ so she went out to Bourgin and Burke and got this, but I wouldn’t have given it to you had I thought you wouldn't like it, so think of this as a gift from your in-laws.”
“My father’ll be jealous, he's been wanting a black diamond in his collection for ages now” He put the ring back in the box and was about to shut it.
“Wait, let me put it on. you put my ring on, so I’ll put yours on, practise for the big day”
He smiled at you as you sat down next to him and pulled the ring back out of the box. He held his left hand out for you and you slid the ring onto his ring finger.
“You know after this, they tend to kiss” He grinned.
“Oh yes, of course, if we’re going to practise we should be thorough” You pulled his head down and his lips met yours for a passionate kiss.
He pulled back after a few moments with a grin.
“We should keep practising, just to be on the safe side”
“Enough flirting, Malfoy you have another gift to open”
He turned and picked up the canvas in his hands.
“Is this the one you were sneaking away for?”
You nodded and he began to tear off the wrapping. He got up and placed it against the wall and stood there looking at it, silently. He was silent for a while as he watched the loop of Draco spinning you out and then dipping you on your return with a kiss. Although he hadn't said anything, you got the feeling that he didn't particularly like this gift. He was probably thinking of a way to let you down easily.
“Do you not like it?” You asked quietly.
“What? No!” he turned around with a genuine smile. “I love it, darling, it's perfect. Honestly, it's beautiful.”
You physically relaxed and went to stand next to him. “You said you didn’t like the painting in your room above the fire so I thought I’d give you something to change it with, I’m just not sure if your mother would like it, since its not one of those classical masterpieces.”
“I don’t care what my mother thinks, as soon as I get home, I’m hanging this right up on my wall. I just never knew you could paint like this”
“My mum made me start painting when I was three, I stopped lessons as soon as I started Hogwarts but I kept it up on the side as a hobby and, well, I thought I’d immortalise your favourite memory of us.”
“You never cease to amaze me” He turned and pulled you into him “Thank you,”
“Don’t be silly it’s your birthday, stupid”
“Not just for this, for everything. For putting up with everything, the jealousy, the anger, the-”
“Hey, I’m not putting up with anything, I love you, Draco, all of you”
“Merlin, I can’t wait to marry you” His lips crashed into yours for a frenzied kiss, overwhelmed with emotion. “This is by far the best birthday I’ve ever had, nothing will be able to top this”
And he wasn’t lying. Whenever he was asked, by his kids, his grandkids even his great-grandkids, what his favourite birthday celebration was, his response was always the same, his 17th birthday.
#Draco Malfoy#Draco#draco malfoy fanfiction#draco malfoy one shot#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy x reader#draco imagine#draco malfoy reader insert#draco malfoy fluff#draco malfoy x y/n#draco malfoy x female reader#draco malfoy x you#harry potter fanfic#harry potter imagines#hogwarts imagines#hp#hp imagines#draco lucius malfoy#slytherin
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Curse of the Clans part 56! @scentedcandlecryptid @selfindulgenz
“Get back…” Splinter held his arms out to force his sons to back away as the smell of the predator overwhelmed his senses. The immense form of the yokai was already emerging from the darkest corner of the large space, heavy muscles rippling as he dragged his belly across the floor.
The snake just kept coming, more and more of it uncoiling from the shadows in a seemingly endless chain. Gray scales were flecked with ash marking, more black along the head and down a portion of the neck. There were no arms or legs, but still a suit was draped over the yokai, and on its belt was a holster that carried a very familiarly wrapped bottle releasing a knoxious scent.
“Bishop…” Even in the monstrous form he had taken, Splinter recognized the snake immediately.
“Is it that obvious?” Bishop’s form shuttered as he laughed, pulling himself up to a height that towered greatly over the mutants below, his head brushing against a series of wires near where the chest of the mech suit would be. “You know who I am. Is it too much to guess that you’d know what I am?”
“You’re an uwabami…” Leonardo said slowly.
Bishop seemed genuinely surprised, but then his open mouth curved into a smile. “Correct…”
“How’d you know that, Leo…?” Michelangelo frowned, clinging tightly to his brothers arm as he hid behind Leonardo.
“I’ve been researching all kinds of yokai.” Leonardo said, “Figured it might help on one of our missions; figured right, I guess. The name means Great Serpent, but the only thing great about you is your ego.”
Bishop hissed out an amused laugh. “Funny.”
“What’s funny is the fact that you didn't think to hide that.” Leonardo pointed to the bottle, “Because, well known fact about Uwabami, they make a habit out of drinking sake liquor. I had my suspicions, but Theres one tiny little detail I still can’t quite wrap my head around. Why would a solitary yokai live anywhere near a community, let alone a whole city? It just doesn’t make any damn sense. That’s what was throwing me off.
Bishop laughed. “Well, where there are people, there is food. And here? They practically walk right into your mouth.”
“Of course.” Leonardo nodded; he glanced back at his brothers, smirking as they all got their weapons ready. “And another thing that’s been boggling me. Why bother helping us at all? I’m guessing you’re kinda buddy-buddy with Krang since this is his ship, yet the advice you gave us seemed to be pretty solid. Why send us on that wild goose chase at all instead of just killing us outright?”
Bishop hissed through his teeth and pulled back, starting to coil around himself as Leonardo’s words, piecing together the facts like an intricate puzzle, cut deeper than any knife.
“Unless…” Leonardo mused, tapping his chin. “You were scared we’d find Krang and fix the rift before he could get free. If you’ve heard the stories all about us, you know how lucky we tend to get with ancient evils. You needed an excuse to send us away and buy time for the rift to break, because you knew us curious little creatures wouldn’t be able to resist poking our noses around the new mystic hotspot in Japan. You were scared that we would just happen upon the site, so you felt the need to separate us. Because you know how strong we are as a team, and having other creatures do your dirty work absolved you of any blame. You’re a coward.”
Bishop reared up again, fury flashing like flames dancing in his eyes. “You dare call me a coward?!”
“Yes.” Leonardo answered evenly, “Because that is what you are. Why didn't you kill us as babies?”
Bishop began to circle. “At the time, I didn't know what you were, or what you would become. I had no reason to hunt you, but now I do.”
Leonardo and his brothers kept on a constant swivel to keep their eyes on Bishop at all times.
“Even now, you’re just trying to buy Krang time, aren’t you?” Leonardo dared.
Bishop didn't answer the question with anything but a low growl. “If you are so knowledgeable of my kind, then surely you know of the power I possess?”
“You’re a constrictor. You have no venom, no powers.”
Bishop mused. “Right yet again. I can squeeze the life out of a human in seconds.”
Leonardo’s gaze was steady. “It is a good thing, then, that I am not human.”
Donatello saw a flash. Powerful jaws latching, the screams of his father. Bones crushing, blood pooling at his feet. He blinked and the vision was gone, replaced by the uwabami Bishop’s eyes glancing ever so slightly toward Splinter. He lunged, and in the same instant Donatlelo lunged. The softshell crammed his bo staff into the snake’s open mouth, and when Bishop tried to bring his mouth down to latch upon Splinter’s neck, he was met with the great resistance of the staff and a slash in the roof of his mouth from the blade. He pulled back, roaring as he shook his head violently to dislodge the weapon. When it finally came loose, flying out of his mouth and skidding across the floor, the inside of his mouth was frothing red, and he was even more furious.
“You’ll pay for that!”
***
“CASEY!” Raphael’s eyes followed the girl as she was tossed carelessly through the air, her body gone limp the moment she was struck. She flew over the group too stunned to do anything but watch, and disappeared out of their sights. “NO!”
Draxum grabbed Raphael around his plastron and pulled him to safety just as Krang tried to a massive foot down on him.
“Go!” Draxum snarled, “Find her you fool!”
“But…” It was all Raphael could say; he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. His mind felt as if it had been shut down and the only thought that was still online was screaming at him to go find her.
“I’ll handle this. Go!” Draxum commanded.
And Raphael was running. Draxum didn't watch him leave; he couldn’t look away from Krang, not for a second. This mech was so much like the Council of Heads, so robotic and still, mouth hanging open even as Krang talked through it.
“April.” Draxum said as he fell back to address the girl in green, “I am going to throw you at him.”
“What?” April gawked.
“I am going to throw you into his mouth.” Draxum repeated.
“Uh. No you ain’t.”
“Yes I am.”
Draxum gave her no chance to argue before picking her up and tossing her through the air like a football. April screamed, her feet pedalling on nothing as she tried to make sure she landed upright. It didn't work. She ended up on her side, rolling and slamming hard into something cold and metal. But at least she had made it, right? She was definitely inside the mech, and the thing she saw before her when she was finally able to process the situation was definitely… something.
“Oh?” Krang said almost softly, bringing two tentacles to cross over. “Who are you?”
“I’m a bad bitch, that’s who.”
The words escaped before April could stop them. Her body was sore all over now, stinging and burning and pulsing, but still she brought herself to stand. There wasn’t much inside of the mech suits head, a large operation station in the center holding the giant, blobish menace; wires and pipes worked to support him, digging into the folds of his flesh, and in front of him was a control panel so complex that April didn't bother trying to work out. The rest of the space was empty, and in the back was something that might have resembled a throat, sloping into a dark abyss below. April could hear the echoes of a fight from deep down in the mech suit's belly.
“Well, Bad Bitch, it is time for you to go.”
Krang went to pull a lever, but stopped when there was more screaming. April immediately recognized the voice as Sunita, and not a second too soon. Sunita was flung through the mouth in much a state that April had been, reaching out desperately as Krang moved to dodge her. April reached for her friend but Sunita slipped through her fingers and the young yokai just kept screaming as she plummeted down the throat of the suit until her shouts stopped with a great splat.
“Sunita!” April was still reaching out for her even as she disappeared.
“Oh. How sad.” Krang nodded, “Oh well. Back to business.”
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Reader helps Nagito in his plan to expose the traitor
Came up with this one on my own, just something for you guys to see my style of writing for if you want to request :)
Category: Angst Imagine
Specifics: GN!reader, obviously takes place in chapter 5, reader is Ultimate Actor
Warnings: Gore, swearing
I legit finished this but forgot to save and had to rewrite it all over again-
Nagito had told his lie of planning on blowing the island up. You, of course, saw through his bullshit, there was no way he had more than one bomb from the Ocagon. And he had just used it. So when you had stopped him walking away from the restaurant and confronted him, he let himself take his chances.
The boy had decided to confide in you after a minimal amount of convincing. There was no use in lying to you, especially when his time to execute his plan was limited. He told you what he knew. Absolutely all of it.
He told you how you were all Remnants of Despair, the 78th class’ killing game, Hajime’s “identity crisis”, about Junko Enoshima, everything. He even shared the fact that you had your left eye replaced with Junko’s while some other classmates, including himself, had other body parts.
While his claims were unbelievable at first, you could tell he wasn’t lying. He took you to his cottage and showed you the book he had received in the Octagon and he got some sort of poison. It was insane, yet it explained so much: Mikan’s behavior, Hajime being talentless, the swirls in Nagito’s and Mikan’s eyes when they got despaired, and so much more.
However, with this explanation, you had also gotten a hope/despair rant of how you all deserved to die for being Remnants. And for the first time, you actually agreed with his ideas. This part seemed to shock him slightly before he chuckled and explained what had to happen.
Whilst everyone else was on a wild goose chase for the bombs, the two of you got to work. You were told of the traps he already set up the night prior. He had you tie a spear above him, tie his legs and arm, and finally, made sure no one could hear him through the duct tape. You weren’t completely aware of why he needed that last point, but you guessed you would find out soon.
When leaving the warehouse to “meet up” with the others, his last words before you left had sent chills down your spine;
“Just make sure no one can hear me screaming, Y/n..”
——————
You had finally met up with your classmates just after they left the plushie factory where Nagito set his video message. You discreetly led them to the warehouse, using your talent as a shield of sorts. The domino fire trap had been set off, then they found the grenades in the break room, all according to plan. You made sure to stay back and not throw any of the grenades in case you screwed it up and took the poisoned one.
Once the fire died down, you had entered the next phase of this plan, the part you had to complete alone. You carefully led the group to Nagito’s body, not having to act as the shock of his self-mutilation took over you. Quickly shaking the nerves off best you could, you focused on the rest of the plan. Before you knew it, everyone was in the trial grounds being led by your lies.
That is, until a certain protagonist decides to call you out.
“Y/n, you don’t usually speak up so much during trials,” the boy gulped a bit and suspiciously looked to you. “Especially since you weren’t there until after we found the video.”
“I just want to help as much as possible,” you bit the inside of your lip nervously, “and like I said, I was in my cottage the whole time to avoid being blown up.”
“Then how did you know to lead us outside of the warehouse?”
Shit, shit, shit...
“I-I..” You had to think fast. So you did the only thing you could think of. Besides, all they had to do was vote incorrectly, right?
Lowering your gaze, you let your voice take on a dark tone, forcing a visible smile to tug at your lips.
“Because I killled Nagito.”
The room went dead silent for a moment. It was almost amusing. But you had to finish this plan out.
“I think we can start the votes now Monokuma, I killed Nagito-”
“No that’s wrong!”
Hajime’s voice rang out like an annoying alarm. You looked towards him and raised a brow for an explanation.
“Y/n, I don’t think you killed Nagito. I think you’re covering for something.” Hajime was getting closer to the truth, but thankfully your classmates were short tempered at this.
“What the fuck do you mean?! They already confessed!”
“Buddy, they already said they did it!”
“Hajime, they have just confessed their crime!”
“I don’t get the fuss, just start the voting!”
Their voices tangled together, most ready to start the vote. Unfortunately for you, Hajime apparently had backup.
“Y/n, if you did kill Nagito,” Chiaki’s voice had silenced the others, “then please give an explanation of what exactly you did.” You felt your chest tighten but remained calm on the outside.
Taking a breath in, you relaxed and focused on using your talent to complete your mission.
“When Nagito told us he’d blow up the whole island, I could tell he was lying, so I went to confront him. I knew there was no way he’d get a bomb large enough to take out the whole island. At least, not without any of us knowing beforehand. Plus he already used a bomb, and there was no way he had a second.”
You stated with a truth as you always did before delving into your lies, carefully weaving the two together. You were ready for this rebuttal battle.
“He refused to tell me anything, so I dragged him to the warehouse and tied him up. There, I tortured him to tell me the truth. When that didn’t work, I threatened a painful death.”
The thoughts of having to commit the actions you were describing caused you to pause for just a moment before continuing your faulty explanation.
“He began to mock me, saying I wouldn’t do such a thing. I decided to prove him wrong. I stole the key to his cottage off him and forced him to hold the spear above him. To keep him from screaming for help, I covered his mouth in tape.”
You felt yourself grip your trial stand just a bit tighter.
“I took the poison from his room and placed it in a granade for later. From there, I had set up the rest of the traps like Hajime said. All I had to do then was lead you all along and throw the grenade with the poison into the room-”
“I’ll cut through those words!”
Ignoring the odd word choice Hajime had been using in every trial, you turned to him, annoyed and nervous.
“Y/n, you’re the only one who didn’t throw a grenade,” the ahoged boy pointed out.
“Hey wait a sec- Hajime’s right!” Kazuichi joined in, “You were standing behind us the whole time!”
“So why the fuck are you lying to us?!” Fuyuhiko swore.
“They’re acting a bit like Nagito in the first trial..” Sonia was quiet but you still heard her.
“Do you know who the culprit is or not?!” Akane shouted from across from you.
Now you knew you were in deep shit. If you couldn’t keep the culprit’s identity safe, you would’ve failed. You would’ve failed to keep the world safe from the remaining Remnants.
After a few moments, you had your next course of action planned out. You lifted your head once more and smiled sickingly sweet. You were going to follow what Sonia had said.
You were going to play Nagito.
“Heheh..” Keeping the same dark but nonchalant tone as he always did, you continued, “Yes and no, Akane..”
“What do you mean, Y/n?” The plain boy seemed confused as ever.
“Well you’re the smart one Hajime, so I’ll give you one hint that should pull this together for you..”
The group had gone silent once again, awaiting your words.
“He used our talents to find a certain someone.”
Your head tilted to the side in false glee. Hajime had gone into his own mind for a minute, processing your claim. Once he figured what you meant by that statement, he turned to the group in shock.
“You’re telling us, that Nagito set this up?” He almost looked scared to say such a thing.
“Indeed I am,” You gave a crazed look, “I’m sure you know who the culprit is now, Hajime, don’t you?” The boy gulped once more.
“It’s the traitor.” Hajime looked down, “He was trying to kill the traitor.” At that, you erupted into Nagito’s signature laugh.
“Not quite, Dating-Sim-Protag.” You let out one more chuckle at your teasing. “It wasn’t the traitor he wanted to kill. It was everyone but the traitor!”
You continued your cackle. Having to laugh in his way made you feel guilty for your actions and words. You were hurting everyone. But what had to be done had to be done.
“They’re messing with us like Nagito did!” Kazuichi seemed more freaked out than everyone, as per usual. “Just tell us who the traitor is!”
“Not so fast, Kazuichi,” Chiaki once again calmed down the commotion, “I think Y/n isn’t lying. Nagito wanted the traitor to kill him and be the blackened, right?”
“Y/n,” Hajime kept his gaze towards the floor, “did you really know where the poison was?”
“In the grenades? Yes.” You felt this as your chance to come clean, convinced they couldn’t find the traitor. “Which one, however? I had no clue.”
“Then how would the traitor have known which one it was in?” Sonia was so close to getting it, but Hajime sealed their deal.
“They didn’t, Nagito used his luck.”
“Correct.” You decided to drop the Nagito facade, deeming it unnecessary now. Your face instead fell solemn.
“Why the hell did you help him, Y/n?!” Fuyuhiko’s voice called out.
“I’m sorry, I really am,” You let yourself speak the truth, “but it was what had to happen for the world to be safe. Safe from-”
“Ah, ah, ahhhh!!” Monokuma jumped in, “We wouldn’t want spoilers, now would we!”
You grit your teeth, feeling even more horrible that you couldn’t explain your actions. Although there would be no need to once the vote had started.
“Just..” Your voice fell weak, “..know all but one of us deserve painful deaths. And we’re about to get those as I assume the traitor wouldn’t reveal themselves.”
The room was completely silent. Even Monomi kept her usual whimpering to herself. Monokuma probably would’ve jumped up again if it weren’t for said traitor speaking up.
“I killed him.”
Chiaki’s voice made your head snap up. She must be lying right? No, there’s no way she’d help you and Nagito.. right?
“Chiaki what are you talking about?” Your voice trembled, knowing you won’t know if she’s helping you or everyone else until after the vote.
“I’m the traitor.” She smiled sadly, “Hajime, you want to do your usual run down of the case?”
Hajime’s face was in complete shock along with the rest of us. He quickly shook himself out and nodded. You could tell he didn’t want to vote on his (what you assumed to be) girlfriend. Nevertheless, he gave the story of it all.
“Here’s everything that happened: The person who actually arranged this incident was... the victim, Nagito Komeada. He kept a specific item inside his cottage that he needed for his plan. Monokuma's Special Poison, which he brought with him from the Octagon.
“Using the gloves and gas mask that he got from he military base... Nagito swapped the contents of a fire grenade he took from the Plushie Factory break room with that poison. When he did that, a specific item was left as evidence: the blue aluminum seal on the grenade.
“With that, Nagito finished making the poisoned fire grenade, took it with him to the factory... and put it back with the rest of the grenades in the break room.
“The next morning, Nagito appeared before us and declared that he hid a bomb somewhere... However, one of us wasn’t fooled. That person was Y/n L/n. Through some sort of convincing, Nagito had told them his plan and the two of them got to work.
“While we were looking for the bomb, that's when Nagito and Y/n headed over to the goods warehouse. In order to set up a fire, the two arranged the Monokuma panels in a line going from the door... to the curtain, and placed an oil lighter in front of it. From there, Nagito set his insane plan in motion.
“First, he hung the spear that he took from Nezumi Castle from the ceiling girder by its cord... then he had Y/n tie his arms and legs at the back of the warehouse with rope. However, they burnt off the rope on his right arm beforehand.
“In doing so, they made sure that only his right hand was free while his remaining arm and legs were tied up... As he gripped the tip of the rope hanging over the ceiling girder with his left hand... He laid down face-up, just beneath the dangling spear.
“But this was just the beginning of Nagito's plan, and then...he did something no one could've predicted. First, he covered his mouth with duct tape, and after making sure he was unable to scream... He made Y/n leave and stabbed himself with the knife multiple times in his left arm and in both of his thighs.
“Finally... He propped the knife on the plushie, and slammed his right hand onto the blade! He didn't just want us to think he was tied up, he also wanted us to think he's been tortured... Through all this, Nagito never let go of the spear. His plan still wasn't over...In fact, it was just about to begin.
“Meanwhile, we finally arrived at the plushie factory and found Nagito's message... After seeing his message, we instantly made our way to the warehouse, Y/n leading us there even though they had shown up after we left... But that was part of Nagito's plan. We opened the door to the warehouse, which inadvertently started the Monokuma panel domino effect...
“The panels fell, one after another, until they reached the lighter, tipped it over, and ignited the curtain. Shocked by the sudden fire, we rushed to the factory's break room to obtain some fire extinguishing grenades.
“We then aimed for the fire's origin point, which was the curtain, and unloaded the entire supply. It never occurred to us that one of those grenades was the poisoned grenade that Nagito had prepared... But because Y/n knew it was there, they made a crucial mistake in Nagito’s plan and their later lies... they didn’t throw a grenade.
“The poison sank to the floor, instantly vaporizing due to the intense heat, and spread everywhere... The poison gas quickly drifted to the curtain at the back of the warehouse, where Nagito was. Also, Monokuma's poison has a unique quality in which it becomes heavier than air when vaporized. That poison gas completely surrounded the area where Nagito lay face-up on the floor.
“There, Nagito inhaled the poison, and if it didn't instantly kill him, he certainly lost consciousness... Which caused him to let go of the rope in his left hand, and the falling spear plunged into his stomach.
“But even then, his plan wasn’t completely over as his accomplice, Y/n, had to lie in order to voting wrong. Unfortunately for Y/n, the traitor did something they couldn’t expect... the traitor revealed themself.
“This is all the information related to Nagito's plan. His true intention was to set one of us up as the killer... At the time, we didn’t know who the killer was... Because the killer wasn't aware they killed someone. Try as we might, if the traitor hadn’t revealed herself as Chiaki Nanami, the Ultimate Gamer, we could not reach that truth... That was Nagito's trap.”
You could feel yourself shake as the rest of the trial went on. You didn’t trust your voice to not get all shaky if you attempted to speak. Instead, you simply listened as arguments were made on Chiaki really being the traitor. As well as the insults occasionally thrown your way.
Soon, though, the guilt of failing Nagito and the world settled in as Monokuma declared that Chiaki was indeed the traitor, and possibly worse, correctly voted as the blackened.
———————
As soon as Chiaki’s execution had ended, you made your way out of the trail room and to your own cottage. You didn’t want to end up tied in the warehouse like they did with Nagito in the restaurant so many weeks ago. So when there was knocking at your door, you didn’t answer it.
The knocking continued, but you stayed in your curled up position on the bed. When the knocking finally ended, you sighed in relief, that is, until you heard Hajime’s voice.
“Y/n.. please come out and eat.. you haven’t had anything since this morning..”
That certainly wasn’t what you had expected to hear. You expected scolding, anger, anything other than concern. Hearing a sigh from outside the door, you decided to slip out for just a moment.
When you did open the door, you saw Hajime as he was about to turn and leave. His form seemed stressed, like he’d definitely been crying.
“You aren’t gonna tie me up, are you?” You tried to joke, but your voice was hoarse, your own crying to blame. Even so, Hajime let out a tired chuckle.
“No, I did have to stop Kazuichi and Akane from trying though..” He scratched the back of his neck. A small, breathy laugh of your own forcing it’s way out of you.
“Why aren’t you siding with them?” You looked downward towards your shoes. “I mean I did quite literally act as Nagito and try to get us all killed..” At that, you felt a hand on your shoulder, forcing your gaze back to Hajime.
“If your reason behind doing that was good enough for Monokuma to stop you from revealing it, I think it’s justified.” He gave a weak, but reassuring smile, “The others agreed with me once I pointed that out.”
“Let me guess,” you attempted to lighten the mood once more, “Sonia agreed with you so Kazuichi just magically changed his mind and Akane was forced to join?” The two of you shared a small laugh as he pulled his hand away and to his side. There was a short, awkward silence that followed before Hajime spoke again.
“Just.. please help us figure out what’s going on. With the information you now have, you may not be able to directly tell us, but you can help so much more.”
You felt yourself nod, slightly ashamed. “In that case, there’s something I need to show you and the others. I can go get it-”
“Let’s wait till you get something to eat, okay?”
Hajime, no, everyone was really willing to give you a second chance after you essentially killed two classmates? You couldn’t believe it. But it was the truth. A small smile made it’s way to your mouth and you nodded once more, this time more assured. This made Hajime smile in return.
“Now how about we go eat something before Akane gets to it all, Y/n?”
#fuyuhiko kuzuryuu#akane owari#sonia nevermind#kazuichi souda#chiaki nanami#hajime hinata#danganronpa#danganronpa imagines#dr2#dr imagines#dr2 imagines#danganronpa fuyuhiko#danganronpa akane#danganronpa sonia#danganronpa chiaki#danganronpa hajime#danganronpa kazuichi#nagito komaeda#danganronpa nagito
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WHUMPTOBER 2020
No. 21
Fandom: Avengers
Whumpee: Tony Stark
Caregiver: Steve Rogers
Title: We’re Not Dying Here
By: PenPatronus // PenPatronusAooO
“Did I ever tell you,” Tony said to Steve, “about the time my dad put his cigarette out… in my ear?”
“N-No,” Steve huffed and puffed, “did I ever tell you about the time my dad spent half our rent money on new writing utensils for me?”
“Mom was at her book club. My nanny had the night off. I couldn’t find a screwdriver, so I took one from dad’s workshop… and broke it. Turns out it belonged to his old man.”
“Dad had to work double shifts for two weeks to make up for that. I think I saw him twice that whole time.”
The boys’ tried to talk quietly, but their voices still echoed a bit in the cold, silent subway. They’d been ambushed. Steve had never been in a limo, Tony discovered at 2:00 in the morning. So naturally Tony, against Steve’s wishes, called for one of his stretch limos to pick them up in front of the Tower for a joyride. Steve relented, and the pair went for a ride through a snowy Manhattan. Twelve and a half blocks later, while they were crossing an icy intersection, a monster of a black truck drove into the intersection and slammed into the driver’s door. The truck was so large that its front end stretched wide and hit the seat directly behind the driver, too. It hit Tony. The limo crumpled and aluminum smashed Tony’s leg, breaking his right femur.
The driver died on impact. Steve and Tony, leaving their phones in cupholders, got out on the opposite side of the limo while the bad guys popped out of the truck and started firing their guns. Steve tore off an icy manhole, but they didn’t go down there. Instead, they ducked into a closed subway station, Tony leaning on Steve as he hopped. They hoped their attackers would assume they escaped into the sewer, and would spend the whole night on a wild goose chase down there.
The pair got down onto the subway tracks where it was somehow even colder than it was on the street. Tony asked what street they were on and when Steve told him, he sighed and said, “This track is shut down three miles in both directions. They’ve been making repairs all winter.”
“Well, we can’t stay here,” Steve had said. He went from holding Tony’s elbow to pulling his friend’s arm across his shoulders. “Start hopping.”
“Steve…” Tony pointed back up at the station, at the bathrooms nearby. “Just stick me in there. Get out of here, get to the rest of the team and come back for me then.”
Steve shook his head. “If they figure out we’re down here then they’ll tear the place apart. It’s too risky.”
“Cap, my leg’s shattered.” Tony’s nose was red from the cold and the air turned white when it exited his throat. “I’m just going to slow you down… Get out of here.” Steve’s response was to wrap his other arm around Tony’s waist, and step forward. Now they were hopping along in the darkness, ears on alert for anyone following them, eyes squinting by the barest light coming from blinking lightbulbs that lined the tunnel.
“Bastard perforated my eardrum. I had to have surgery that night,” Tony continued. “And did anyone at the hospital call child services when I told them my father stuck a lit cigarette in my ear? Nope. Nope, nope, nope. Not Howard Stark, no, he would never do that…” Tony stumbled for a second, and Steve hefted him up into the air, only putting him back down when he found a smooth spot on the track. “Steve, I… Just need a minute, ok?”
Steve looked at his friend. He was both sweating and shivering. Tony’s hand on his elbow trembled. “Ok,” he said. “We can sit for a minute – but just one.”
“I’ll take it.”
Steve slowly lowered Tony to the ground and arranged him so that he was sitting back against the cement. Stark clamped his mouth shut and struggled not to scream when Steve accidentally put his arm on Tony’s knee. “Sorry,” Steve whispered. “Hey Tony, what… What’s… Tony, you’re bleeding!”
“Am I?” Tony looked down at his broken leg for the first time and saw that his jeans were dark red and wet. “Huh. That explains it.”
Steve took his winter coat off and pressed it against a three inch cut in Tony’s upper leg. “Explains what?”
“That darkness in the corner of my eyes,” Tony mumbled. “The fact that I see a Cap and a half right now… And you’re blurry.”
Steve looked up into his friend’s eyes. “I think we’re in trouble here.”
“We’re always in trouble.” Tony laughed at himself, then stopped when the vibrations caused his leg to throb even more. “God, this hurts…”
Steve finished wrapping his coat all around Tony’s leg. He used his belt to hold it tight. “All right, Stark, you’ve got more hopping to do.” Steve took his winter gloves off and put them on Tony’s, over his, and then helped his friend to his feet. “Here we go.”
“Here I go again on my own,” Tony sang, “goin’ down the only road I’ve ever known. Have you listened to Whitesnake yet, Cap?”
“Haven’t had the pleasure, Tony.”
“Ah, the eighties,” Tony mused. “I broke my other leg in 1987. Fell off a garage roof.”
“What were you doing on a garage roof?”
“What I always did! I was trying to impress a girl.”
Steve chuckled. “Hop a little faster, Tony. I think I see a brighter light ahead. Must be the next station.”
“Oh, thank God,” Tony groaned. “Let’s hail a cab.” His teeth rattled then – clicking together as he shivered in the cold.
Both of their stomachs sank when they came to the station. Like the first one, it was shut down. Unlike the first one, it was barricaded shut… from the outside. Steve left Tony on the track and tried his best to break through the barricade, with no luck. He did, however, find a vending machine. He put his fist through the glass and got Tony a couple Snickers bars and a bottle of water. He broke into a security station, next, and found a gun hidden under a desk. He pocketed the weapon in the back pocket of his jeans, then jumped back down to Tony. He’d ordered Tony to stay on his feet, but he’d ignored him. Tony sat against the cement again, clutching his knee. Blood had seeped through the winter jacket.
“You know what really impresses girls, Cap?” Tony asked him as Steve unwrapped the candy and unscrewed the bottle cap. “Goatees. You should grow a goatee, Steve. Might look good on you.” Tony held his lips open while Cap poured some water down his throat. Stark coughed for a moment, then gestured for more water. “Thanks…” He waved away the candy. “Slight possibility I might puke,” he explained.
Steve ate the Snickers in two bites. “We’ll be able to get topside at the next station,” he assured his friend. “Just a little more hopping to go.”
Tony had closed his eyes. “Hmm…” he hummed. “How cold do you think it is?”
“It was ten when we left the Tower… Probably five down here.”
Tony opened his eyes. “I made a giant snowman when I was five… Hijacked a bulldozer.”
“Get up, Tony.”
“You know where my dad put his cigarette out on me that time? Back of the neck. Hurt for weeks.”
Steve sighed. He pulled Tony’s arm across his shoulders and stood up with him. Tony sagged. He coughed. He rested his head against Steve’s shoulder. “Come on, buddy,” Steve urged him. “We’ve got a ways to go.”
“You know where it really hurts to get a cigarette put out on you? Back of the knee. Boy, that stings.”
The two Avengers hopped along for another half mile. This station was barricaded, too. Steve got another bottle of water and a second gun. More hopping.
Stark had stopped talking. “Tony?”
“Hm?”
“I’ve never seen you this quiet. It’s weirding me out.”
“Hm…”
Steve looked at Tony and saw that his eyes were shut. But he kept hopping, kept hopping.
They were about a third of a mile away from the next abandoned station when Tony stopped moving, except for the constant shivering from the abhorrent cold. “Steve, I don’t think I…” Tony’s left knee buckled, and he collapsed onto the track with his broken leg outstretched. Steve let him fall, but slowed the fall so that Tony wouldn’t hurt himself. He maneuvered his friend so that they landed side by side, arm against arm, Tony’s head lying on Steve’s shoulder. “Steve, it’s so cold and I can’t… I just can’t…”
Normally, Steve would say, “Of course you can! You’re Tony Stark! You strolled out of a terrorist camp, flew a missile through a wormhole, saved the President…” But, there was something so sincere, so desperately true in Tony’s voice, that he knew now wasn’t the time for an inspirational speech. So instead of arguing and insisting and lecturing, Steve gently put his arm around Tony, giving him a sideways hug. Tony collapsed against him, going nearly limp. Steve rubbed his back and arm to try to warm him up, but nothing could beat back the whistling wind in the dark tunnel. Tony was sweating and shivering and shaking. His skin was pale and there was just the tiniest, faintest tinge of blue under his chin. The blood flow hadn’t stopped. Steve looked up at the ceiling and made a wish on a lightbulb as if it were a star.
Steve let five minutes go by. Then, he shook Tony’s shoulder and said, “Time to go, Tony.” He took his arm away but Tony was limp, and he would’ve smacked the back of his head on the iron track if Steve hadn’t grabbed him and maneuvered him into his lap.
Tony groaned and pressed his nose against the inside of Steve’s right knee. “I’s… dizzy…” he sighed through a mumble. “Think I need to sleep…”
“Tony, no, Tony – you need to stay awake. If you fall asleep you might…” Steve didn’t want to think about what might happen. He lifted Tony up half a foot and pulled his friend’s face to his chest and held him there, Tony’s ear against his breastbone. “Tony, for me – stay awake.”
“t’s hard.”
Steve rubbed Tony’s entire upper body, desperate to keep him warm and alert. “Tony – we need go to a little further. Just a little further, all right? Then you can rest again.”
“Cap, I can’t…”
“Tony, look at me.” Steve gently clasped Tony’s chin between his bare fingers and forced him to meet his eyes. “Hang on. Just a little bit longer.” Tony blinked hazy eyes. He licked his chapped lips and sniffed the freezing air. “Do it for me, Tony, all right? Do it for me.”
Tony nodded. “For you,” he conceded. He nodded again. “Help me up.”
It was then – right then – that both men heard the voices. Men’s voices, coming from behind them – from down the tunnel they’d been walking. Steve and Tony shared a brief terrified look, then they scrambled up onto their feet. Tony hopped forward three steps, almost four before his knee collapsed again. Frustrated, scared, desperate, Cap tossed Tony over his shoulder and started to run. He reached the next station and lifted Tony up onto the platform. He scrambled up behind him, then dragged Tony to the bathroom wall. “This is where we make our stand,” he told him. Steve got a third gun out of that platform’s security station and put it in Tony’s gloved hand. “We’re not dying here today, you hear me? Not freezing to death and getting shot in some shitty subway.”
“Mhmm,” Tony muttered. Then he agreed, “Not today.”
“That’s right.”
The voices were getting closer. One of them chuckled.
Steve gently cupped Tony’s cold face. “Stay awake,” he ordered. “Tony… Stay with me.”
Tony looked at his friend. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to see your dad.” Tony swallowed, his Adam’s apple bouncing. “I’ll promise I’ll stay awake… For you.”
“That’s my man.” Steve patted Tony’s shoulder, then took up his post on the edge of the platform, waiting for the men to get closer.
When he saw their shadows, he aimed his gun at the nearest lightbulb and shot it dead. Only two lightbulbs remained along that short stretch of track. Steve was willing to be that he had the upper hand at seeing in the dark thanks to his super soldier eyesight. “Turn around now!” he called to the approaching men. “Unless you want to die!”
“Cap?” a voice called.
Steve lowered his weapon. “BARTON?” He looked around the corner and, sure enough, Clint, Bruce, Natasha, and Thor were jogging down the tunnel towards him. Steve sighed in relief. “Thank God it’s you guys.”
His teammates climbed up onto the platform. “We’ve been looking for you for hours!” said Bruce. “We were worried you’d frozen to death.”
“Tony is close to that. He’s practically hypothermic.” Steve turned and jogged back over to his friend. “Tony?” Tony had broken his promise. He was unconscious. Steve shook him, but he didn’t wake up.
“TONY!”
----------
Tony was delightfully surprised to find himself in his own warm bed when he woke up. He was surprised, but not particularly delighted, to find Steve Rogers where Pepper was supposed to be – lying right beside him. In Steve’s defense, he was lying over the blankets instead of under them with Tony, and he was on the very edge of the bed. Still, Tony couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. Abandoned Chinese food sat on his bedside table. Tony plucked out a chopstick, then used it to poke Steve in the nose. Cap flapped his hand in front of his face as if there was a pesky housefly there. His own movement woke him up and he made eye contact with Tony. “Hey.”
“We got out of the death tunnel, I see.”
“Of course we did. We’re us.” Steve sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, walked around it and then sat on the edge on Tony’s side. “You look better.”
“Did I fall asleep?”
“Uh huh.” Steve looked down at his hands folded in his lap. “You promised you’d stay awake.”
“Sorry…”
Steve raised his eyebrows. “Want to make it up to me?”
Tony rolled his eyes. “My leg is broken, and I have pressure in my chest that tells me I was hypothermic at the end. What can I possibly do for you?”
Steve turned serious. “Don’t do that again,” he said quietly.
“Don’t do what?”
“Almost die.”
Neither man made eye contact with the other. “Only if you make the same promise,” Tony said.
Steve smiled. “Deal.”
The End
#Whumptober#Whumptober2020#Whumptober 2020#No.21#No. 21#Hypothermia#Avengers#Fic#FanFiction#Whump#Avengers FanFiction#PenPatronus#PenPatronusAooO#Tony Stark#Iron Man#Steve Rogers#Captain America#Stony#Stony Friendship#Angst#Bromance#Collapse#Marvel#Friendship#Drama#Family#Hurt Tony Stark#Avengers Feels#MCU
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What’s New, Scooby-Doo?|| Agatha, Grace, Julie and Remmy
TIMING: Current PARTIES: @detective-keen, @silveraccent, @purelikeviolence, and @whatsin-yourhead SUMMARY: An old treasure map, four meddling (not) teens, and a dog. What could go wrong?
Remmy couldn’t help but feel a tad anxious as the bus pulled up to the Commons drop-off. The map was stuffed in their bag, as well as a bunch of different things people might need on a trek through the woods. Water bottles, snacks, a blanket, a flashlight, flares, extra shoes, a jacket, and, stuffed way at the bottom, a handgun. They shuffled off the bus inside a crowd of people, before breaking away and heading towards the fountain, where they’d all agreed to meet up. Moose by their side helped quell some of the fear, but it was still there. It was sort of always there, now. The distinct thought that maybe gathering up a bunch of people they didn’t know to go on a wild goose chase was a bad idea came up, but Remmy pocketed it, remembering that Julie was going to be there, too. And even though they hadn’t hung out much lately, Julie had defended them without even really knowing them the first time they’d hung out together, and the thought of her being there made their relief almost palpable. They sat down on the ledge of the fountain and dug through their bag for the map, unfolding it to reveal the contents. It looked like whatever it was was around the cliffs near some sort of peak or drop-off, but Remmy was no genius at reading maps, or having a sense of direction. When they looked up, they saw a figure heading towards them, and though their stomach clenched at first, they grit through the anxious feeling and put up a smile. This was going to be a good day, they’d make sure of it.
Grace hadn’t been too sure what she was doing when she had agreed to go on a literal treasure hunt, especially with people who she didn’t know. It was odd, the amount of times that she had broken down her own barriers for the sake of letting other people in-- even if it was held at surface value. Grace checked her backpack 3 times before heading out the door, and even then, she wasn’t quite sure if she had everything. Still, it wouldn’t do her any good to keep checking, and so she forced herself out of the entrance of the apartment building, her legs having felt like jelly the entire walk to her car. The drive was short, and Grace was thankful-- Portland wasn’t large, not by usual city standards, but White Crest felt smaller and smaller every time she ventured out. After finding a place to park in the area that she had agreed to meet Remmy and the rest of the individuals who had wanted to go on the trip, she surveyed the area, hand held over her eyes. Once she spotted somebody who looked familiar, attached to a dog she had been made aware of, Grace held up her hand to wave, heading over to them. “Hey,” Grace said, trying to keep her gaze from going back to the dog every five seconds. “I’m Grace-- I agreed to go on on this thing with you, I mean the treasure hunt--” she laughed, moving her hand to push the hair out of her eyes. It was strange, as Grace had come across individuals in White Crest so far that were either normal in terms of emotions, or dulled. Now, she felt nothing. Maybe Remmy was good at hiding whatever it was they felt. “It’s nice to formally meet you--” Grace cringed at her words, but before she could finish her sentence, somebody else had walked up.
Well, this wasn’t milkshakes but Julie supposed going on a treasure hunt with Remmy would at the very least be entertaining. It’d been too long since she saw her buddy so she jumped at the first chance she got. It’s not like she had anything better to do with her time anyway. Although she was curious as to what other people had agreed on this hunt - maybe some more of Remmy’s friends? Julie was sure Remmy had plenty of other friends, they were just that kind of person. Nonetheless, they headed toward the meet point shortly after waking up. It was a little earlier than Julie would have preferred to be woken up but it was fine. Better to wake up and have something to do then to wake up and have nothing to do. Julie was doubtful that the treasure map would lead to anything truly… treasurable but she was interested in finding out what it led to, even if it might be a dead end. There was little thought of the safety of the whole situation (going out to explore unknown parts of the town) because Julie rarely felt her safety in danger. If there was one thing she was good at, it was being able to get out of tricky situations with herself intact. As she came closer she easily spotted Remmy with their mutt - her eyes narrowed at the sight that Remmy had brought Moose. A dog. But she knew he was trained and so he was considerably more tolerable than most dogs. “Sup, fuckers.” She greeted as she hopped closer to them. She smiled at Remmy before turning to the stranger, her smile dropping as she inspected them. “Is this everyone?”
Agatha, while she was convinced that there were no such things as treasure maps, had decided that she would tag along, and traded her brogues for a pair of trekking shoes. She had packed a backpack with snacks, water, a first aid kit, a flashlight, a survival blanket, a map of the town and a compass. She left her bicycle tied to a lamppost with her bike lock and approached a group of three who seemed to be waiting for her. Well, arriving last was not really what she had planned. Waving cheerfully at the group, she smiled at the trio, then glanced down at the service dog with an even bigger smile. Focus. “Hey, I’m Agatha,” she introduced herself, still radiating with positive energy. “Were we waiting for more people?” She had a look at her watch, and figured that she was probably the last. She sat down on the ledge to have a look at the map Remmy was holding. “Okay, I was a bit suspicious, not gonna lie, but this does look like a treasure map.” And it looked old too. She wondered if they knew when it dated back to. “Where did you get it?!”
The first person to arrive introduced herself as Grace, and Remmy was in the middle of saying hi when a familiar face caught their eye. “Hey! Hi!” they said, a bit excitedly. “It’s nice to meet you, Grace! Um-- like, formally. Or uh-- for real? Yeah! Hi.” Nerves buzzing just beneath their skin, they waved at Julie, giving a low chuckle at her. “Hey, Julie. Um-- I think we’re waiting for one more, the only person who said she can actually uh...read maps. So, we should probably wait for her.” They gave a sheepish grin, looking between the two. “Oh, uh-- Grace, Julie,” they said, pointing from the new comer to Julie, “Julie, Grace.” No that they knew Grace all too well, but from their conversation online, Remmy felt like they could be friends. They hoped nothing strange would happen here and scare Grace away. They just wanted a nice, normal trek through town. Using a treasure map. From a pie contest. Hmm.
The last person to approach looked a bit older than the others, but her smile was all the same and the friendly greeting helped calm Remmy’s nerves. Moose watched all three of the newcomers arrive with practiced patience, his tongue hanging out as he panted quietly. “Welcome! Uh-- I think this is about it, huh?” They held the map out to Agatha. “I’m Remmy. The map bearer. I’m...not really good at this, but I think it says we have to head towards Dark Score Lake and uhh...a cemetery near there? There’s something marked there, right?”
Grace looked at the new arrival, quick to be named as Julie. She didn’t miss the way that the woman looked at her with reproach, but instead of pointing it out, Grace smiled as Remmy introduced her. “I’m Grace.” Hadn’t Remmy just said that? She couldn’t get a read on Julie, but didn’t have time to sit on it too much, because another figure was bounding towards them. Grace was glad for the interruption. She despised small talk. Grace had gotten into the habit of not bothering to look at somebody’s body language, mostly because she almost always knew what emotions they were cycling through, but as she looked at Remmy, she picked up the telltale signs of nervousness-- not that she could feel any. It was replaced quickly by Agatha’s bouncing and bubbly manner. The difference was astounding and left Grace to reach up and press her index finger against her temple. “A cemetery?” Grace asked, an eyebrow raised. “Sounds like this is going to take us on quite the ride.” She grinned at Remmy, already feeling Agatha’s mood beginning to rub off on her. Better to be elated than to be down, she guessed. “So.. which way should we go?” She asked, tongue in cheek. She didn’t want to step on any toes, so from the get go, Grace decided to take the backseat and follow, rather than to try and lead. Though leading hadn’t ever been her thing anyways.
Julie curled her lip at the positivity from one of them, wondering who the fuck would have the energy to act like that. She stepped aside, moving closer to Remmy (unfortunately that meant closer to Moose). She looked down, mindful to not touch him. Her eyes darted from speaker to speaker, suspicious of the two strangers, naturally. She trusted Remmy but not these two, especially not the peppy one. “We can cut behind some of the businesses to get to the lake faster, if you want.” Julie wasn’t the most familiar with the area but she knew where the lake was in relation to where they were. Although, she wasn’t looking forward to going to a cemetery where they would run into lonely emo ghosts who are dying (hah) to talk to someone. As long as you didn’t acknowledge their presence though, they should be fine. Hopefully. Ghosts will do anything to get the attention they want. Needy fuckers. “What cemetery is it?” Julie asked, leaning over to look over Remmy’s shoulder, setting her chin on it. Depending on the one, they might either have to cross the lake or head into vampire territory. She wasn’t sure which she preferred.
Agatha smiled back at Grace, with all the warmth she could muster before she turned her attention back on Remmy. “That is correct, and that is also correct. Not so bad with maps, are we?!” She clasped her hands together enthusiastically. “I brought a compass and a town map, just in case but I think your map is good enough for now,” still she took the compass from her backpack and put it around her neck. “That sounds like a great idea,” she replied with enthusiasm as Julie suggested cutting behind some shops to get to the lake faster. This was going to be a lot more fun that she would have thought. “Could be Jericho Hill,” she mused, thinking out loud. She went on, inspecting the map a bit closer: “Could be Gallow’s grove, honestly.” Her brows furrowed. No, that could not be right. Her nose wrinkled. She paused, took out the map she had in her backpack and fell silent for a good minute before she looked up and declared, with undying glee : “We are going to Gallow’s Grove. I hope everyone likes completely gloomy cemeteries.”
“Well…” Remmy started, “at least it’s daytime, right? No uh--” glanced at Julie, her head on their shoulder, before looking back at Agatha, “--no weird things around during the day, right?” A grin, before they picked up their bag and slid it back on, nudging Moose along, falling in stride with Julie. The sounds of the bustling town faded as they cut across the fields behind the building, and Remmy glanced around at the other three with them, feeling a quiet sense of peace. Even though they didn’t know the other two, it felt almost comforting to have them around. Both Grace and Agatha seemed like good, normal people, and maybe that was all Remmy really needed right now-- something good and normal. “Thanks for coming,” they said to Julie after a moment, “I know it’s not milkshakes, but I’ll defs buy you one after this.” They turned back to Agatha, leading the way. “Once we get to the cemetery, what does it say we do? Or uh-- go? Can you tell? I couldn’t really figure it out. It looks kinda like it’s pointing to a house type thing...but there’s not like, uh, houses in cemeteries, right?”
Grace listened to the group as they spoke, only able to pick out pieces of the locations that they mentioned. She had taken a look at a town map, maybe when she first arrived. Most of Grace’s time had been spent looking up where to get the best chowder from her desk at work, however. Not knowing the people in front of her, Grace didn’t want to make them uncomfortable, but the way that Agatha was getting excited, Grace couldn’t help but exert the same energy, “I don’t think I’ve ever used a compass,” she admitted with a sheepish grin. Grace tightened the straps on her backpack after the blonde confirmed where it was they would be heading to. “Cemeteries are usually quiet, and the only reason people find them gloomy is because they probably have somebody buried there, otherwise it’s just a bunch of stones.” Grace shrugged and looked at Remmy as they began to speak. “There might be a tomb? Maybe the groundskeeper’s shack or something.” Grace knew little to nothing about White Crest’s cemeteries, but if they were anything like Portland’s, then maybe she was right. “We could just look for bigger structures when we get there?” Grace suggested, her voice sounding a little too high and peppy for her usual disposition.
Gallow’s. Julie’s brows raised at the mention as she glanced over at Remmy but gave nothing more than a telling smirk. She definitely knew how to get to Gallow’s, having been there before but they were in luck that it was daytime, otherwise she’s sure as hell wouldn’t do much to stop hungry vampires from attacking anyone other than Remmy… and Moose (although they would stay away from both of them). Turning as Remmy spoke to her, she gave a small nod, genuinely in good spirits to be hanging out with Remmy. Even if there were two weirdos being taken along with them. “Yeah for sure, don’t sweat it.” Although, she would prefer milkshakes on their next outing. Come to think of it, she hadn’t eaten since she fell asleep. As Remmy mentioned the map, Julie recalled what she had seen. It was probably a mausoleum. Great. The vampires will love their resting places to be opened to sunlight. This was going to be lots of fun. As she looked over at Grace, she found it weird how upbeat you sounded. “You okay? You sound very happy to be going to a cemetery.” She looked over back to Remmy. “Jesus, Remmy, where did you find them?” She muttered, trying not to be too vocal about her thoughts concerning Grace and Agatha. It was too weird for Julie - she’d expect some ambivalence, potentially fear from either of them at the thought of going to a cemetery. Especially Gallow’s. Did they not know what they were getting into? All she knew was she wasn’t going to be pulling either dumb ass from harm’s way if they walked into it. She might push them towards it if they kept up this cheery routine. It was getting annoying.
"Nice observation," Agatha looked up at the sun, wrinkling her nose. "We have about 10 hours at least before the sun goes down, and the vampires come out," she said the last part with the most ominous tone to her voice. A diabolic laugh probably would have been too much and so, she refrained herself. Apparently those stories probably had gotten to Remmy's ears and they had stuck. Oh well, she was not here to argue about how stupid it would be for vampires to live in cemeteries when basements are a thing. Realistically speaking. Or at least as realistic as you could get when talking about myths. Grace then said something about never using a compass and Agatha was more than happy to get it off her neck to hand it to Grace and explain the basics to her. "Simple, right?!" She listened, stayed quiet and waited for their suggestions on where it was they were heading. "Could be, although I'd bet on a mausoleum. Lots of families have those in the area, although I'm not sure there's still a lot of these standing. That's a pretty old cemetery, and pretty big too," she paused. "But since mausoleums stand out it cannot be that hard," looking over her shoulder at Remmy and Julie, she grinned with genuine kindness.
Oh, good. Agatha knew about the supernatural. That was a relief. Remmy looked back over at Julie and shrugged. “Internet,” they answered simply, before observing the interaction between Grace and Agatha. They all seemed genuinely excited to be here and Remmy’s anxiety was dissipating more and more. Even as they approached the cemetery and pushed the gate open, they couldn’t help but feel that excitement rubbing off on them. Moose must’ve too, because he gave a small bark as they headed inside, sniffing the air. “Come on, whatever happens, it’ll be fun,” they said to Julie, before giving her a little nudge. “Better than sitting around doing nothing, right?” They scanned the area, trying to pick out any sort of larger building. “Anyone see anything?” they asked, coming to stand near Grace. “I don’t think I mind cemeteries, either. They are always kinda quiet, huh?” Before shrugging and heading up the path. “What’s the map say? I think it looks like it’s a little farther in.”
Grace wasn’t sure what to say in response to Julie. She knew she sounded far too upbeat, but all in all, for whatever reason, Grace hadn’t had any issues with cemeteries to begin with. In Portland, she and Renee would grab breakfast burritos and sit on the hill overlooking the largest one in the city. She didn’t suppose it brought back great memories for everyone, based on the way that Remmy was reacting. At Agatha’s words, Grace blinked, but was unable to ask for clarification on the point made about vampires before she was being shown the compass, instructions pulled from Agatha’s lips. Grace thought back to her conversation with Blanche about the lighthouse. People surely believed in anything around here. “Oh, a mausoleum! Maybe.” Grace hadn’t ever seen any in the cemeteries in Portland, so she had forgotten they existed. “If anything, we could always split up and look.” The gate didn’t look half as ominous as Grace had expected it to, and as she stepped through with the remaining members of the little tour group, Grace looked to Remmy as they spoke. “They’re quiet, which is great for me.” She hummed absentmindedly as she took a step further, gaze flitting from plot to plot. “I can’t see anything just yet,” Grace said over her shoulder as she crouched down next to a dirt and vine infested headstone. “Nobody’s seen you in awhile, huh?” Grace muttered to herself as she got to her feet. She wondered how long it’d be before she’d go to visit either her Grandmother or Renee.
Julie snorted as they mentioned they enjoyed the quietness of cemeteries. She wanted to know which ones they went through. Anytime she crossed through one she kept her head down and walked through as fast as possible before a ghost could try and make itself known. God forbid she ever makes eye contact with one. Even just giving one the time of day would attract a bunch more and Julie would never have enough time to listen to a ghost bitch and moan. At Grace treating a headstone with kindness and cleaning it, Julie couldn’t help but side eye the whole thing. Girl… “It’s probably for a good reason.” Julie muttered knowing not everyone who was buried was a good person and deserving of being visited. As if to voice her thoughts she set her sights on a fallen pinecone and punted it into a headstone. Dead whiny fucks. She didn’t dare lift her gaze as they continued to walk, knowing well enough that they were drawn to her just as she was to them and if they were to make eye contact, she’d have to ignore them the whole fucking trip. Julie threw her hoodie over her head for good measures, blocking out her peripheral vision. Impatient as she was though, she picked her head up. “Are we almost fucking there?”
Agatha had been walking ahead of the rest of the group, stepping on a bench to see things from a pedestal. “Guys…” One mausoleum stood taller than the rest of them, and while it was in a poor state, like the rest of the tombs here, it stood out. If they had been in a video game, this would have meant that this was their goal. What could go wrong with trusting video games logic? “You okay Julie?” Jumping off the bench, she joined the rest of the group, her cheerful demeanor replaced with worry as she looked at the woman. She then glanced at Remmy, who seemed like they knew her best. “But to answer your question, I think we should head over there. This is where shit happens for sure,” she had literally no proof of that, but considering the instructions on the maps and their lack of clarity, it would do. Leading the way once again, she made her way to the mausoleum. “Mmmh, looks like that door hasn’t been opened in a while,” she observed, as she started to pull on the handle, with no luck.
Remmy paused to wait for Grace when she knelt to brush off the dirty grave. Julie’s comment could’ve been true, but Remmy knew Julie was more prone to looking at the darker side of things rather than the brighter. They didn’t really blame her for that, though. Everyone was different. When Agatha led them up to the mausoleum, Remmy came up behind her, examining the door. “Here uh, lemme try,” they said, before shuffling around, looking over their shoulder at Julie, then tugging on the door. It was definitely stuck, but all they needed to do was put a little of that getting hungry zombie strength into it and, boom. The door opened with a loud, forceful crack and Remmy stumbled back a little. “Must’ve uh-- just been stuck,” they said with a grin, before peering in. It was empty and smelled musty, spider webs and dirt lining every inch of it. “Uh, so….now what’s the map say?”
Grace followed after the group after brushing dirt from her knees. The words that came from Julie weren’t necessarily wrong, and Grace knew that, but they still didn’t sit right with her. She didn’t know this woman, however, so she kept her mouth shut. It was easier to let Agatha’s curiosity get the better of her than start an argument over something that was… technically true. Grace looked at the door with eyebrows raised. Just before she could open her mouth to ask how they’d get it open, Remmy was trying the door with a force that she hadn’t thought could come from them. Surprised, Grace took a step back and looked over them with astonishment before wiping it clean from her features. “You’re strong,” Grace said as she took a step around Remmy, into the doorway. There were spiderwebs scaling the ceiling, at least, as much as Grace could see. Before going in much farther, Grace turned her attention back to the group and looked from face to face, trying to gauge their reactions from Remmy’s strength.
“Oh, you’re sooo strong.” Julie mocked under her breath as she passed by Remmy, shooting them a knowing look. As she took the place in, she realized it was different than most mausoleums she’s been in. It was darker the further down and Julie wasn’t one to fear the darkness so she continued walking ahead, having lost sight on the map and more interested in exploring the area. However, she remembered that Remmy was here - along with the dog so she turned, only to see what they were doing. The whole feeling would have been unsettling to any normal person but Julie had seen worse than this. It was far too ridden with cobwebs to be a place where vampires stayed during the day. Then again who knows if they were trying to create an aesthetic of sorts. Vampires were just those kinds of people. She brought out her phone to scroll through it as she waited on the others only half listening to them.
Grabbing the flashlight in her backpack, Agatha then turned it on and started having a look around, inspecting the place as if it were a crime scene. Quite frankly, the place might as well have been one. It was one hell of a mess in here. The scent of dust, spiderwebs was everywhere, as well as a musty smell. You would have expected the place to be silent but the wind could be heard inside, whistling through stone. Strange, she thought. There was no sun coming through. She looked over at Grace and raised an eyebrow. Apparently she and Agatha were the only one surprised with Remmy’s strength. “You’re going to tell us where you go to the gym or…?” Kneeling down, she had a look at the name on the tombstones, to see if she recognized the family name. After all, with her mom being the former sheriff, they used to know a lot of the White Crest families. However, the name on these did not ring any bells. “Honestly, I don’t know where we are supposed to go next. There seems to be a path leading from this place to… I don’t know. Maybe it’s a tunnel but…” There nothing here, she left that part out. Standing up, she aimed her flashlight toward the walls, which would be when she noticed an engraving in the stone. A similar one could be found on the map. “Remmy, that was on your map…” The sound of wind grew bigger when you got closer to the symbol, and while she didn’t see how, she could guess that whatever path there were searching for was somewhere, close.
Remmy gave a sheepish grin to Julie and shrugged. “Uh, I mean-- I used to be a soldier. That uh-- that must be it.” They followed Julie inside and squinted against the darkness, before Agatha’s flashlight illuminated the inside. It was relatively small, just large enough to fit the lot of them. Lining the walls were plaques where bodies were stored, and there was one large tomb in the middle of the place. Agatha went over to the far wall, pointing her flashlight at it, where there was something on the wall. “Huh...weird…” they muttered, coming over and examining it. They looked at the map, then to the engraving. “It’s the same thing. What do you think it means?” They glanced back at Grace and Julie, as if they would be able to present the answer.
Well of course that explained it, Grace thought. Remmy had been a soldier, of course they were strong. Still, she was impressed, and she made no move to hide it. Grace crossed her arms over her chest as she watched them look around. Agatha seemed like she knew what she was doing, so she sidled up next to her. “It looks pretty narrow,” Grace said as she looked over her shoulder at the other two. This was quite the treasure hunt, she had to admit. Though, wasn’t it better than holing up in her apartment with the same book she had read over a dozen times? The contradiction of her actions for moving to White Crest in the first place were not lost on her. Grace followed Agatha’s gaze to the engraving on the stone and looked at it. “I don’t know, I’ve never seen anything like that.” Grace reached out and padded her index finger against the wall and traced the pattern. “It looks like whoever did it, it took them a long fucking time.” Grace straightened up and looked between the three.
Julie sighed, kept in place because they were all busy looking at some symbol on the stone. “It means keep going,” Julie bluffed, still on her phone with her arms crossed. “So are we going to keep going or stop here and look at the wall until it gets dark?” Maybe they were scared - it seemed reasonably so, going into further darkness with people you don’t know and seemingly only one way out. Still, wasn’t that part of the whole excitement? Julie glanced up at them, wondering if she had anything to fear from Agatha and Grace. She knew better than to assume they were “normal” if there was anything she learned from this town was that the people here were more often unnormal than normal. However, Julie felt confident in her ability to evade trouble no matter how unexpected it may come for her so she had no reason not to continue on this treasure hunt.
Agatha looked over her shoulder to watch Julie, who was looking like a teenager who got dragged on a family trip. “Are you sure, Nancy Drew?” Yes Agatha still had her collection of Nancy Drew books, including the secret code activity book, and no she was not ashamed of it. She was pretty sure Julie would hate this, but that was kinda a compliment in Agatha’s mouth. “Alright, well the wall seems a bit…” She approached her palm from the nearest stone, and started pushing it. She expected some sort of struggle but the stone looked heavier than it actually was, and instead of bothering with the rest of them, she gave one kick in the whole, and hoped (way too late) that the others weren’t granite, and that this meant going to the hospital for being a stupid bitch. “Ta-dah, a doorway. Good job Julie,” she nodded in appreciation. Pretty and clever? “Let’s go?” She offered with a shrug, leading the way with her lamp.
The wall crumbled in front of them, and Remmy felt that little rush of excitement again. “Wow! Neat! Who woulda thunk, huh?” they asked, looking back at the other two. Grace looked a little nervous and Julie looked bored, but Remmy wasn’t going to let that get any of them down. Remmy paused to dig through their backpack and pull out a few flashlights, passing them around. “Ready?” they asked, before heading into the tunnel and shining the light ahead. After a moment, they looked over for Agatha and the map. “Well...what uh, which way do we go now? It looks like there’s more than one tunnel to follow.” And although Remmy and Julie didn’t have too much to fear, they weren’t sure the others could say the same. Getting lost wasn’t going to be a good idea down here, and Moose wasn’t exactly a tracker dog.
Grace jumped in surprise as the wall crumbled before them. She glanced between the group. Agatha’s energy continued to rub off on Grace, but her own uncertainty about the situation as getting the best of her. “Ready for what, more cobwebs?” She joked and took the flashlight from Remmy. Grace shone her flashlight at the map, careful not to hit anybody in the eye as she did so. “I think we go that way?” She said as she looked up from the map, then to their surroundings. “See that object there on the map? It’s on that wall--” She pointed to the wall with her flashlight, then back to the map. “They’re almost identical.” Okay, so maybe Grace wasn’t entirely horrible with directions. Or maybe she just knew how to look for context clues. Grace took a step forward after she directed the flashlight at the floor, checking to make sure there were no traps. Didn’t treasure hunts usually run into those? “It looks like there’s another door,” Grace said as she approached the end of the walkway.
Now things were getting interesting. Julie was first to step through the door, eager to see where it would take them. Lo and behold it took them to a fork in the path. Julie had not a clue what was the right path and turned back to see if those who had read the map would be able to figure it out. “Yeah, the map should tell us where to go next.” Ideally since it was a map it wouldn’t get them lost but who knows. Julie looked behind the group to where they had entered and chose not to think about that. Leave it to Julie and she would have taken any path as long as it kept them moving but unfortunately she had to wait once more.
“We could always split, but I’ve seen enough movies to see it not end well,” Agatha wrinkled her nose. The map was not exactly professionally drawn, and it was hard to get a good idea of where they were meant to go. Grace was however a lot more adventurous than them. Agatha directed her flashlight toward the door Grace claimed to be seeing, and followed behind her. “I swear to God, if that door is locked,” and expecting it to be so, she almost fell over. Stumbling into a new tunnel, she heard something crack under the heel of her shoe and grimaced. What exactly could make such a crunchy sound here?
Remmy was beginning to feel nervous. Could the other hear those noises, too? The low groaning up ahead? They glanced over at Julie as they stepped into the new tunnel, and then Agatha was opening the door. Remmy tried to hurry forward, to suggest they open it first, but the loud crunching of bone made them stop. The quiet groaning stopped, too. “Uh...must be real old,” they said, ushering everyone inside. Could the others see the red eyes watching them, too? They gave another glance to Julie. “Maybe we should just keep moving?” They suggested, putting themself at the front of the group, Moose trotting beside them, glancing at the map. “We’re almost there!”
The door opened and Grace followed Agatha through it, arms coming to wrap around herself. The sound of the bone that crunched underneath Agatha's foot made her wince, but she wonders if anybody else knew what it was. Grace nodded at Remmy’s words as she followed them further down the hallway. There were bones littered everywhere, and the air was growing cold. “Is anybody else freezing?” She asked in passing as they walked, keeping her voice low-- why, she wasn’t sure.
Julie was ready to jump in any direction and so she entered with confidence not even paying any mind to the sound. She knew what it was but was more interested in what laid ahead of them. Her hand reached out to touch the nearest wall, curious about these tunnels. It wasn’t like Julie to get scared but something about this was giving her just the slightest sense of unease. She wasn’t sure what it was though and glanced back at Grace whose tone seemed to be not as excited as it was back then. Was she scared? Probably. Underground tunnels would do that to you. Dark, ominous. One way in and probably only one way out - if that. For now though it seemed the best thing to do was to follow the straight path of the tunnel. As she kept ahead, Julie felt it was safe enough to ease her discomfort. She allowed herself to feel the dark in her hands not strong enough to turn it physical nor to create any darker shadow than there was but just enough to give Julie the peace of mind that if anything did happen that might threaten her or Remmy’s lives - she was still in control. “Maybe you should have brought a warmer jacket,” Julie threw over her shoulder as she dropped her hand back to her side. “You guys don’t have anything in those bags of yours? Like… food or something?” Julie has to admit this was working up her appetite.
Working as a homicide detective, Agatha had gotten used to a lot of things, but that did not mean that she found stepping on bones a pleasant Sunday activity. Cringing, she wiped her shoe against the floor. Even if she found it stupid to be scared of cemetaries or morgues, this place looked like a horror film set. Still, she managed to tell herself that the tunnel would have been not scary at all with proper lighting, and so she followed behind the others. Another silver lining of this would be telling the medical examiner about this place. Agatha wondered who those bones belonged to, and what else they would find here. Holding her flashlight tight, she went by Grace’s side, figuring that her company might reassure the other woman. “It will be fine,” she assured her. Other than perhaps rats and insects, she doubted they would cross anything’s path in here, and much like Julie, she was starting to get hungry. “You want something sweet or something salty?” She asked, her backpack now against her stomach. Searching through her things, she pulled out a lunch bag and handed it over to Julie.
Snacks were being handed out now, and Remmy glanced around the rag tag group. This was gonna be fine, right? There wasn’t anything down here that would, like, hurt them, right? Their skin crawled a moment as the moaning increased. Moose’s body stiffened and his ears went back, but Remmy kept him reigned in. The red eyes were still behind them. “Umm, maybe we should pick up the pace? We probably uhh...wanna be outta here before nightfall, yeah?” They stopped and went around to the back of the crew, waving their arms, trying to usher them all along faster, glancing back over their shoulder. Forms began to show in the shadows, crawling slowly after the group. Their noises getting louder. How could the others not hear? Did Julie hear them? “Uh, yeah, hey, so-- maybe we should um-- run.” They said, shoving against Grace and Agatha, hoping Julie got the idea as well, as they took off down the hall.
Grace looked to Julie, confused why anybody could be hungry when they were in the dark trenches of the unknown, but her own stomach growling made her look to Agatha’s backpack with vague interest. “I didn’t think I would need a jacket, I don’t know,” Grace finally responded to Julie, casting her a sideways glance. She looked to Remmy, then back to Julie, and finally to Agatha when she heard the deep groan. Grace turned around and peered into the darkness, trying to gauge where the noise had come from. There weren’t any pipes that she could see, but it didn’t mean that there weren’t any. Why did it suddenly smell like a morgue? Grace opened her mouth to speak, but focused on Remmy as they began to usher them forward. “What--” Grace asked, reaching up to cover her nose with the back of her hand, “what is that smell?” It smelled like a decomposing body, and she wondered if they had walked upon a horror house. Before she could investigate it any further, she was being pushed forward, Remmy’s hands at her shoulders. She followed the directions, despite being confused. She took off alongside Remmy with an urgency that matched the other two, the nerves suddenly draining the color from her face as she ran. “Why are we running!” Grace called out, breathing heavy, focusing on not tripping over the clutter of leaves, vines, and bones at her feet.
Julie just grabbed whatever she felt first in the bag before tossing it back to Agatha. Unwrapping it she started walking again but noticed Remmy coming close as if trying to rush them through it. It was fine with Julie to hurry through things but Remmy seemed the type to enjoy the moment. Then again given the current environment, most people would want to get out there as fast as possible. “Dude, what gives -” Julie shrugged it off, still eating before catching the slightest movement out of the corner of her eyes. Julie knew what could lurk in the dark and while she wasn’t terrified, she knew better than to put herself in a position to reveal herself as anything more than human in front of anyone. Remmy already saw part of what she could do. She didn’t really want them to figure out what else came with it. Not that she didn’t trust Remmy but - okay maybe she didn’t trust Remmy. Trust was hard, okay! Either way Julie wasn’t quick to get the memo until she caught one coming out of the shadows. She had no idea what the fuck it was and offered a menacing look before jogging behind the others. Julie knew better than to try and scare the others by saying she saw a humanoid figure with missing limbs and red eyes so she went for… “I think I saw a big rat. Maybe the food attracted it. My bad.”
Agatha covered her nose. She knew that smell. She knew that smell too damn well. Okay, as soon as they got out of here, she’d have the WCPD back in here. Clearly there was a corpse, somewhere, or maybe several corpses. And according to Julie, there were rats in here too. Fucking perfect. Sure those two things sometimes went hand in hand, but that did not make it more okay. “I’m pretty sure that’s not the food they came here for,” she commented, following behind the rest of the group without asking any questions. No way she was staying alone in the dark with a bunch of rats having maccabe snacks. No way. “Remmy, do you know where we are going right now?” She tried not to talk too loud as she called them out, and she hoped that they had heard her. Whatever they were searching for better be worth all of this because she really did not like that she was fleeing a possible crime scene right now.
“Yes!” Remmy exclaimed, “rats! I saw uh-- giant rats! And those are like-- not things we wanna mess with!” They hurried everyone along until they couldn’t see the red eyes following them anymore, down a hallway and around a corner, before realizing that they didn’t know where they were going anymore. “Uhhh, yeah, totally!” they lied nervously, pausing to glance around then back at the map. “It’s um-- here!” they splintered off to head towards what looked like a door, sliding it open-- only to find pale, fanged faces staring back at them. Remmy cried out and slammed the door shut, turning to look back at the others. “Uh-- not that way, actually. Um-- this way,” they pointed, walking back through the group and grabbing their hands to usher them away from the door with the scary monsters behind it. And as they came upon another hallway, a chill creeped in-- one that even Remmy felt-- and their breaths began to billow in front of them. A loud clattering up ahead could be heard. Remmy paused. “Do-- does anyone else hear that?”
“Rats?” Grace yelled out, “we’re running from rats?” She had lost it at the sight of a mouse in her apartment, so much so that a neighbor had knocked down her door at the screams, and now she was getting logical about rodents? Grace huffed as she followed Remmy, trying to ignore the burning in her calves, as well as her ankles. “You don’t sound like you know where we’re going!” Grace yelled out after them. She didn’t need to feel Remmy’s emotions to tell that much, despite not being able to feel it at all-- the nerves from the other two was enough, however, to know that there was confusion around them, and outright fear. Grace nearly rammed into a wall, but managed to push off of it in enough time to follow Remmy in their new direction, before coming to a stop just behind them. The door slammed before she could reach it, which made Grace wonder what Remmy saw, because she saw nothing, but smelled death. “Hear what?” she asked as she reached out towards the grimy wall, her hand coming into contact with something sticky and sopping wet. She quickly rubbed her hands against her jeans. “What is that smell?” Grace knew what it was, but she didn’t want to be right, didn’t want to come across decomposing bodies, didn’t want to see death etched in the ground at her feet. Grace swallowed thickly, the smell of death filtering into her nose.
Julie just hoped they didn’t catch up to them and by the time turned back, there was nothing in sight. She wondered for a moment if they were lost and then remembered there was a map. She didn’t really understand how they could be lost but nonetheless followed the group into a hallway. “Are we going the right way?” Julie supposed they were but had her doubts. “Can’t you guys check the map?” She was about to say something sassy but heard a noise up ahead and took note of how she could see her breathe. “Where the hell are we going?” She muttered as she stepped forward, wanting to see what was up ahead and not really afraid to confront it. It might be those red-eyed fuckers but so what if it was? If this was the way out, then there was no choice but to go straight to the source of noise.
Can’t you guys check the map? Agatha’s eyebrows raised, and she had to prevent herself from being unpleasant with her reply. “Weird smell, weird noises, this is great,” she said instead, blocking the flashlight between her cheek and shoulder to examine the map. Truth was, with them having run around like that, she had no damn clue as to where they were, but if she were to take a wild guess, from what she was observing, and what her compass was telling her, she would have said that they were… “Here.” Totally winging it, she thought to herself, cringing internally. But hey, if she was right, this would be great. All she knew was that she needed to be out of here. The atmosphere of the tunnels alone was certainly eerie, but she couldn’t stop thinking of the graveyard of the sort they had stumbled upon. And unlike others, it took her more than an old creaky house or a swampy basement to get scared. Proving that ignorance was truly bliss. “We need to head this way,” she sounded pretty damn sure of herself, but she rarely didn’t.
When Agatha finally set them on what seemed like the right path, Remmy felt a little wave of relief. It was, however, staunched when they saw a shimmering form up ahead. It wavered, disappeared. Remmy turned to look to see if anyone else had noticed, before leaning over to murmur to Julie. “Did you see that, too?” they asked under their breath. It shimmered back into life, in the same spot, and Remmy stopped, prodding Julie. “There!” Oops, too loud. They looked at the others. “Uh-- a doorway! Look!” And there one was. And it looks different from all the other doorways, with a large arch above it and those same engravings they’d found upstairs in the mausoleum around the threshold. That was promising, right? Remmy went to head in when a voice stopped them. “None shall enter!” rang the small voice-- a very distinct child’s voice. Remmy paused, looking around, but no one else had reacted yet. “This is my castle! And my stone treasure! On guard, ye trespassers!” Something swung by Remmy’s face, but when right through. They spun on their heel-- only to find themself face to face with a child. Except, they could see right through them. And the kid was floating about three feet in the air. “Ah, some sort of ghostly fiend, I see!” the kid spat, swinging around what was once probably a wooden bat in life. Remmy blinked, dumbfounded. The ghost-child frowned deeply, then pointed his sword at Julie. “I know you can see me, too, shadow monster!” he said in his attempt at an intimidating voice. It was more like a puppy trying to bark. Remmy looked back at Julie and shrugged.
Just inside the room, they could see the chest. It was covered in dust and grime and cobwebs, untouched for decades. Maybe even centuries. Remmy wondered what could possibly be inside. The ghost-child phased through them to stand in the doorway again, hands on his hips. “I will guard this treasure with my life!” he shouted, pointing the sword at all of them. Remmy didn’t know what to say-- if they spoke, they risked looking crazy. If they didn’t, would the ghost get mad? “Let’s um-- let’s just take it easy and all go inside real slow, yeah?” they said, putting their hands up. Hoped that wasn’t as weird as it sounded, to either party.
“I think the map is only useful if you’re following it to begin with…” Grace muttered under her breath, loud enough so anybody could hear. It wasn’t that she cared-- she didn’t know what was happening. Her heart rate was abnormal and there was sweat beading at the back of her neck, dripping down the back of her shirt, leaving her shivering. Despite their situation, it seemed as though Agatha had found where it was they needed to go, and so she followed blindly. Did she really have a choice? She was stuck now, and the only way she was going to get out of here was if she followed them. Grace’s eyebrows furrowed at Remmy’s sudden burse, and she looked towards where Remmy had motioned. The doorway lay before them, and Grace felt her heart sink. It looked like both Remmy and Julie were focused on something, but Grace couldn’t tell what. She decided to ignore it, because as long as they weren’t running, there was no threat… right? She swallowed thickly, trying to get rid of the taste of death at the back of her throat. The room looked as though it hadn’t seen the light in what could’ve been eons, and she was careful with her steps as she looked at the chest. It was just like on the map. She couldn’t believe they actually found something, especially with all of their running. Grace looked to Remmy, “but it’s right there?” She hesitated before taking a step forward, closer to the chest. It looked like any old chest. “There’s no lock on it,” she observed as she knelt down close to it, interest piqued. “I can’t believe we actually found something,” Grace said as she turned back to look at the group. She reached for the lid and heaved it upwards, revealing an assortment of rocks. “It’s not… gold, what are these?” She asked, eyebrows furrowed.
Oh hell no, Julie was not going to have to deal with a child much less a ghost one. Rolling her eyes she fought the urge to argue back with it. However she couldn’t help but feign a move toward the ghost, trying to get the kid to flinch. However as they entered the room her attention went to the chest and… of course it was disappointing. A bunch of rocks. “Looks like some kids lame ass rock collection.” Julie scoffed as she crossed her arms. As if on cue she heard the child’s annoying voice. It was easy to tune out but then she saw him shut the lid and lay down on it. “Oh come on…” she muttered as she rolled her eyes, looking over at Remmy seeing what they would do. Julie had no patience for children and even less for ghosts. It seemed though that he wasn’t willing to get off the chest now, using his own energy to keep weight on it. Julie tried to tip over the chest with her foot. “Get off,” she mumbled as his weight was more than she was expecting.
Agatha didn’t interject with what Grace had to say because negativity was really not needed right now. Instead she put the light of her lamp below her chin and gave Grace a force smile, nose scrunched up and all, as if to say Don’t. “See, I told you it was the way to go.” Oh Agatha please, she told herself. She had absolutely no clue of what she was doing, but this proved one thing, sometimes, you could just be lucky. She approached the rest of the group, although as she looked over Julie’s shoulder, she watched the chest’s lid close shut, and she couldn’t help but be startled, jump a little and cover her mouth to muffle a scream. Would rats be drawn by screams ? Probably not. Who knew? Not her. "Are we really going to fight this chest for a bunch of old rocks?" Her brows furrowed. She hadn't even gotten to see what was inside and she was curious. Sighing, she tried to assist Julie, with no goddamn idea of what was truly going on here.
Agatha and Grace didn’t seem to see the child, but Remmy knew Julie did. She was even talking directly to him. Remmy gave an innocent smile when he slammed the lid shut. They looked between everyone. “Uh, well-- maybe they’re special rocks!” they said, eyeing the ghost. “Rocks that...mean a lot to someone. And they’ve been here...where it’s safe so that the wrong people don’t get their hands on them.” When the ghost perked up as they spoke, they took that as a good sign to continue. “But we’re, you know-- good people, right? Whatever this treasure is, we won’t misuse it, will we? We’ll cherish, and um, well--” they looked at the boy with a big smile, hoping this worked-- “treasure it, pun intended.” He chuckled at first, then laughed a little harder. Then he burst out laughing, rolling around so much he toppled from the chest-- allowing Agatha and Julie to finally open it again-- before floating up and away. “Okay,” he said in his sing-song voice, “but if you’re mean or not nice to my treasure, I’ll come haunt you all forever!” Remmy grabbed the map from Agatha as they all dug into the box, and turned to the boy, hushing their voice a little. “Here, I think this is yours,” they said, before reaching in and taking one of the rocks and holding it out to him as well. “We’ll guard your treasure now, and make sure everyone knows how great it is. Okay?” he seemed forlorn, at first, as if he were about to cry-- but then his hands took the objects Remmy was holding out to him, and he smiled, big and bright. “Thank you,” he said, “that’s all I wanted. And also! I made a special, hidden door. It’s behind the chest. You all can get out faster that way. I would use it when my mom would call me home.” Remmy grinned. “Thank you,” they muttered. “Okay. Bye funny people! Remember what I said!” And when his outline disappeared, Remmy couldn’t help but feel a little sad.
They turned to look back at everyone, before grabbing a few of the rocks. They looked relatively normal, though they were smoother and had funny patterns inside the stones themselves. And, somehow, Remmy knew they were special. When they looked up again, they pointed to something on the map.
Grace yelped as the lid to the chest shut. She wasn’t sure what had happened, maybe one of the hinges was loose? She folded her hands in her lap as she rocked back on her heels. She twisted around to look at Remmy as they spoke, and it seemed far too encouraging to be for any of them. She wondered if Remmy just really liked rocks. Grace stood up and dusted her hands against the backs of her jeans. She looked down as Agatha and Julie were successful in re-opening the chest. She looked on at the rocks with a tilt of her head. She still wasn’t sure what was special about them. Grace wasn’t blind to the fact that Remmy was suddenly speaking to the air, their hands outstretched with a rock in their palm to nothing. She bit her tongue, not sure what was going on-- she couldn’t discount that there was something going on, especially with what she had already been through. She looked at the rocks in Remmy’s hand, interest baited her, “what are those?” She wasn’t sure what was going on, or why Remmy had spoken to the air, but she wanted to know what was so special about the rocks that they’d go on a treasure hunt to find them. Grace was curious, to say the least. “Should we get out of here? Look at them where we’re not being threatened by killer rats?” She asked, half-jokingly.
A way out? That was good to know. This trip had run its course. Julie reached for a rock, turning it over in her hand before putting in her pocket. She wasn’t really one to carry things like that but eh, it would be nice to have something to remember this trip. Moving to the chest, Julie pushed it away, surprised the ghost runt was telling the truth. “Hey, seems like this is the way to go.” She pointed at and glanced over at Remmy who was well aware. She gave them a knowing smile before looking at everyone else. This was definitely a lot weirder than she had anticipated but hey, at least they got some lame rocks at the end? She winced at her own thoughts. It was definitely time to go home before she started to feel touched by some stupid ghost’s rocks.
“We could have arrived through here the whole time?!” Agatha exclaimed. All this had been a lot of fun, and she had grabbed a rock as a souvenir of their adventure. Had they arrived through the exit door, it might have not been as enjoyable. She wondered if the rest of them had had as much fun as herself, or if they would admit to enjoying their little trip. The memory of those bones was however feeling like an itch in her head, and she wouldn’t take too long to report it, starting with animal control. She doubted anyone would be thrilled by the idea of working among rats after all. “Well, this was fun. We should do it again sometime soon!”
As everyone dispersed, Remmy couldn’t help but smile. They climbed up the back stairs and found themselves almost on the complete opposite end of town that they started in. Not only had they had a good time, no one had gotten hurt, and they’d made a few new friends-- at least, they hoped. Agatha was nice and not afraid to take control, and Grace was sweet and seemed new to all this. Both of them seemed like great people Remmy wanted to get to know more of. And Julie, of course, was her usual self. Not that Remmy minded. Her casual demeanor and grumpy attitude was kinda cute, after all. She reminded them of Luce a little. And, even after all of that, they’d been able to help a ghost move on, even if just a little. All in all, it had been a good day. Maybe things really were looking up.
“C’mon Moose,” they said, patting him on the head, “let’s head home. Figure out what’s so special about these rocks, huh?”
#chatzy#wickedswriting#what's new scooby-doo#chatzy: agatha#chatzy: grace#chatzy: julie#group chatzy#agatha#grace#julie
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Huwumi, "This can't be real. I feel like I'm having a fever dream.", Meet Messy with a SuperNatural AU using Vampire Fuyumi?
So, I started drafting this one up and it got... Way out of hand because I lack self control! So I’m actually planning a longer form response for this one that’ll take a little bit more time to complete! But, since I don’t want to to leave this empty, I’ve included a preview of the first part here! Hopefully this gets you hooked up for once I upload the fic proper!
Trigger Warning: Minor Blood/ Gore, Minor Violence, Perverse Thoughts, Consensual Blood Drinking
He paused at the sound of some kind of ruckus just around the corner. Normally, he wouldn't go sticking his nose into other people's business. He learned that lesson the hard way, if the faint scars on his arms and abdomen were anything to go by, so his usual course of action was to call the authorities and then find a new route home. Or, rather, after a nasty incident involving him getting shanked in the belly and then berated by his friends, it was his course of action. Instead of doing that, however, he stepped a bit closer and listened intently.
"No need to be so uptight, sweetheart. We just want to have a little chat," One voice drawled out.
There was a quiet whimper of pain. "I-I don't want any trouble. Please, I won’t tell anyone that I saw you out here," That was clearly a young woman. He rounded the corner when she let out a louder cry of protest. "Stop it! You're hurting me!"
Well, he’d gone a good three weeks without stepping into someone else’s business. Hopefully Rumi would be proud of him for that much.
"Hey!" he snapped as he stepped closer, glaring between the four figures as he tried to get a read on them in the weak streetlights.
Three of them were standing upright in a half circle around the fourth, who he assumed was the lady he heard a second before. One of the guys, a big muscle-bound bruiser type with cropped blonde hair, stood in the middle. He held one of her dainty wrists in his meaty paw, looking like it was hard enough to cause seriously hurt. The one to the left end looked to be no older than a middle school kid, cheeks still bearing some baby fat under narrowed brown eyes, but had a grin that screamed of manic delight over whatever they were planning. The last one, to the far right, was hard to see. He was wearing pitch black clothes over his entire form, only a gaping mouth full of jagged inhumane teeth visible. In his gloved hand he held some kind of weapon that was dark and dripping.
He looked to the woman, who was clutching the shoulder of the arm being held with her other hand. She was well-dressed and put together in a pale colored sweater vest and work slacks. Her hair was loose and wild, as if pulled from an up-do, and pale with flecks of a darker color to them. She cast a frantic, pleading glance over her shoulder at him, luminous silver eyes gleaming with unshed tears.
He curled his hand more securely around the rock in his pocket. "Let go of her," he said firmly.
The one holding her scoffed. “And who the Hell are you to her? Last we heard, you didn’t have yourself a little sweetie pie, princess,” he sneered, turning his attention back to her.
“He isn’t affiliated with me! Leave him alone!” she protested, cutting off with a shrill, pained cry when the guy heaved her up higher by her injured arm.
Keigo took the chance and chucked the rock as hard as he could, aiming for the very top of the guy’s head. He knew he had a tendency for his throws to droop lower and couldn’t help the smug smirk when the rock pegged the guy right between the eyes. And, from the distinct ‘thunk’ he heard, it hit pretty hard, too. The guy dropped the arm to instead press the hand against his forehead. “Fucking asshole!” he shouted.
The young woman looked stunned as she fell to the ground, turning to gawk at Keigo as if he’d just sprouted a second head or something. “Hurry up!” he mouthed frantically, indicating she come to him with a jerk of his head.
She hesitated for a second before shakily getting to her legs and rushing to him. “Goddamnit! Moonfish, Mustard, get your asses in gear! Before she gets away!” Muscles shouted angrily, thrusting a fist out to smash it against the middle schooler’s face. The kid squawked and rubbed at his face while Hooded Teeth let out some strange gargling noise and charged after her.
Once she was close enough, Keigo grabbed her arm and twirled her behind him with one hand while he grabbed a nearby trash can to toss at her attacker. It slammed into his legs and sent him stumbling over it, hitting the ground face first. As far as thugs were concerned, he couldn’t help but think these guys had to be the bottom feeders. “Come on, let’s get out of here!” he whispered urgently as he moved to lead her along. She was still holding her shoulder and, with a bit more light, he could see a nasty gash that was slowly oozing blood from between her fingers.
Okay, she was going to need a hospital. But, first, they’d need to lose the Goon Squad. Thankfully enough, they were in his neck of the woods and he’d be able to get them around.
He didn’t have time to try leading a woman who was bleeding pretty extensively along a wild goose chase, so he opted to just scoop her up into a bridal carry. She let out a small squeak and looked up at him with wide eyes. “W-Why are you helping me? You don’t even know me,” she breathed out shakily.
“Because you needed help,” he said, flashing a grin that he hoped was charming as he tore off the way he’d come. They were on the corner of Main Street, so if he darted back two blocks and then cut through the alley on 26th, they could take the long way around back to his apartment. That was assuming that they could shake her little buddies, anyway. He could hear the big one shouting insults and swears, though he wasn’t sure if they were meant for him or the guy’s associates.
He paused briefly as he darted down the street to see how close they were. Only Muscles and Hooded Teeth were behind him. When he turned back to look ahead, though, there was Kid. He growled and skidded to a stop, stumbling back a few feet and narrowly avoiding as Kid swiped at him with… claws? That was the only way he could think to explain Kid’s nails and how they cut through the air. When he looked up, there were slivers of silver creeping into the brown of the kid’s eyes, his pupils shifting to be more cat-like in appearance. “What the Hell?” he breathed to himself.
Muscles whistled lowly behind him. “Wow, you really ain’t in the know about all this, are ya? Welp, boss gave the orders that we gotta take the little lady with us, and you’re in the way. Sorry to say, human, but I think the fat lady’s singin’ for ya!”
He whipped around, ready to offer some kind of retort - that he was sure would have been witty - before they heard a few loud howls echoing from a few blocks back, in the direction Keigo had been retreating towards. The Goons seemed stunned by the sound, looking up and around at the sky. “Moon,” Hooded Teeth groaned out loudly.
While the three were distracted, Keigo rushed past the freaky middle schooler and tore off in the sounds of the howling. It was most likely just some stray dogs, he figured, but they served as a nice enough distraction. Whatever was happening… It was fucking weird. He glanced down briefly at the woman in his arms to see she was breathing heavily, her hand curling into the ruined fabric of her vest from pain. He was going to have to take her to a hospital and fast.
He rounded the corner on to 26th and then froze as he saw two large, lumbering figures coming straight toward him. For a moment he thought it was Kid and Muscles, but as they got closer and stepped under the few working streetlights, his stomach flipped uncomfortably. The two figures were not human, but large beasts. Werewolves, he thought, as he stared at the long snouts filled with jagged teeth and pelt-covered bodies running on two legs. One was a sandy blonde color while the other was a near-black brown color.
He expected them to come for him but… They didn’t. No, instead they rushed past him and around the corner. He peered back to gawk as the blonde one barrelled right into Kid and clamped his maw down on his upper arm. Kid looked different, too, his skin taking on a faded grey color and his eyes becoming a silver color with red rings in them. Kid let out a shriek worthy of a Hellbeast as the werewolf jerked and tore with a furious snarl. Keigo’s stomach roiled as he watched Kid’s arm tear away from his torso, shaking his head and darting to the alleyway he’d been aiming for.
He wandered halfway down before leaning back against the wall, chest heaving and legs slowly sliding out from under him. The woman against him whimpered a bit and shifted slowly to straddle him as he squeezed his eyes shut tight. He slowly opened his eyes to look at his companion, preparing to ask how she was feeling, before his eyes widened at the unnaturally long fangs visibly in her panting mouth.
“This can't be real,” he breathed, mind spinning as if he’d done five consecutive shots of tequila, “I feel like I'm having a fever dream.”
For a moment, he and the young woman just stared at one another before she slowly slid her tongue over the protruding fangs. “I’m sorry. I… I can’t quite control them when I’m injured so seriously,” she breathed, averting her gaze.
“Those are fangs. Like, vampire fangs,” he breathed out shakily.
She offered a bashful smile. “That would be because… Um, well… They are. Vampire fangs, I mean,”
“Is… Is this some kind of fucked up prank show? Are there cameras hidden somewhere?” he asked, eyes sweeping around the alleyway in frantic, hopeful sweeps in hopes of seeing the glint of a lens in the low light. When he turned his attention back to the young woman still settled in his lap, she was staring at him with this look. He dared to say that it was hungry, but… Well, not the kind of hunger he would have liked.
She shook her head. “This is no joke. I do apologize for getting you involved in all of this, but I can make you forget, if you’d like,” she offered, leaning into his personal space until her chest was against his. And he really would have liked everything that was happening - the warmth of her thighs on either side of his own, the weight of her pressing down in his lap, her eyes locked on him with such intensity - if not for the fact that he felt like he was going insane. “We don’t have a contract so there is nothing binding us to one another. If you let me feed from you, I’ll be able to access your mind and erase your memories of this evening.”
“How do I know I can trust you?” he asked, swallowing thickly. He didn’t miss the way her eyes shifted to follow the motion before focusing back on his face. “How do I know you won’t just, like, suck me dry and leave me for dead?”
Her gaze softened and she reached up to stroke his cheek with the back of her cool fingers in a gesture he could only call soothing. “I swear on my merit as an heiress to a vampiric family of noble blood, I will only take enough to ease your mind in exchange for the kindness you’ve shown me this night,” she whispered softly.
Keigo stared at her as his mind slowly began to come down. Vampires were real. Werewolves were real. Who knew what the Hell else was real. And he was sitting her, in a filthy alleyway, with a very pretty female vampire asking to suck his blood. He briefly wondered what he’d done for his night to take such an absolutely bizarre turn of events. Then again, he thought, he’d let women less polite than her leave marks on his neck for less, so what was the harm. “I just want you to know that if you suck all my blood and leave me to die… I’m gonna be pissed. And probably haunt you.”
She giggled, a tinkling sound like a bell chiming, before leaning closer to him, puffing out a soft breath against his ear. Shit, was she just intentionally teasing him now? “Deal. Now, take a deep breath and brace yourself; this will hurt for a second or so,” she warned before dipping her head down, pressing a few soft kisses to the side of his neck.
Once she found a spot she deemed acceptable, she placed one final kiss before opening her mouth and sinking her teeth in. His hands flew to grip her hips hard at the agonizing sensation that coursed through him. It felt like the time he’d been stabbed in the side, times four! His jaw went slack, desperate to scream, but no sounds left him. He took in shuddering breath, feeling his blood flowing out of his neck and into her mouth, and then, slowly, a pleasant haziness washed over him. It reminded him of when he’d gotten hooked up with morphine after the aforementioned stabbing, only… a little better?
His head tipped back and he felt an involuntary groan leave him. She hummed softly against his throat, slowly pulling back and gently lapping at the puncture wounds with soothing, kitten-like strokes. Once she was satisfied with her clean up job, she leaned back to face him proper, licking her lips as she did. He watched her with lidded eyes as the silver in her eyes slowly bleed away to an intoxicating turquoise tint. She held his gaze before reaching out with her injured hand to comb his bangs from his face. “I thank you for your kindness this evening, Takami Keigo, and for it, shall steal these memories for the sake of your protection,” she said before leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. He tried to kiss back as best as he could, but he felt groggier by the second. He faintly picked up on her mumbling to herself once she pulled back, but then he was out like a light and the night’s events left him completely.
Four days later, however, he awoke with all the memory back. And a slew of questions.
#crumbles grumbles#Huwumi#my fics#I swear I'm already in deep for this ship#And then you come at me with fantasy AUs#And then I end up with like 20 more ideas! xD#Also I realize Hawks got kinda thirsty at the end there#Sorry not sorry
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La Chasse au Loup - 3
available to read on AO3 HERE
Story Synopsis: All things considered, there’s a lot of strange things a man could find in the back-bush of his own farm, rural as it may be. Some of it he could be aware of and do his best to work around, but a lot of it went so far under the radar it almost wasn’t worth thinking about. Mostly it was animals- a goat or a sheep that hadn’t been bedded down proper wandered out overnight and didn't wander back come morning. Turned up the next day in the bush in a strange, disemboweled sort of way.
It's coyotes that do it, Wayne reasoned. Wolves, maybe, but whatever it was it certainly wasn't anything living under his very nose.
Chapter Word Count: 2970
Pairings: (background, minimal) Wayne/Daryl
Genre: Dark/black comedy with a lil bit of drama
Next Chapter: Unavailable
Previous Chapter: 1, 2
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THE BUSH
All things considered, there were a lot of strange things a man could find in the back-bush of his own farm, rural as it may be. Some of it he could be aware of and do his best to work around, but a lot of it went so far under the radar it almost wasn’t worth thinking about. (The incident with finding the cannabis plants first came to mind whenever Wayne had the hindsight to think back on it).
Mostly it was animals- a goat or a sheep that hadn’t been bedded down proper wandered out overnight and didn't wander back come morning. Turned up the next day in the back-bush in a strange, disemboweled sort of way, with its limbs all askew and guts just hanging out in the brush like they were only meant to take in the sun for a quick minute before coming back to the barn.
It's coyotes that did it, Wayne reasoned. Wolves, maybe, taking advantage of Dary’s own incompetence for forgetting to lock the livestock in at night. Forgetful as Dary was (or wasn’t; he was always quick to insist that he did bed them down and locked them in proper whenever they found one out there, but if that were true, how’d they wind up dead out in the bush then, eh, big shoots?), that’s why it eventually became so important to grab a chair, a rifle, a best bud and go out there to thin down the local population a bit to discourage that kind of gore from turning up. It was nice to be outdoors, and nicer still to earn $65 a coyote tail, but even so, sometimes things turned up in the back-bush in that strange, disemboweled sort of way that didn’t always look like it could be the work of a coyote or wolf.
Like that one time they found a human hand out there, lying casually in the shade of a wild blackberry bush like whoever it’d been attached to had simply been caught berry-picking and left it behind in a hurry. Uncleanly severed at the wrist, its pale fingertips were stained purple from blood loss and berry residue and unfortunately had to be wrested from Stormy’s strong jaw before she could run off with it.
They hadn’t found the rest of whoever the hand had belonged to, but the hand alone was enough to leave a bad taste in Wayne’s mouth, though it was one he didn’t have to swallow if he didn’t pay too much attention to it. And anyway, if the authorities they’d called in to deal with it weren’t worried about it, then Wayne didn’t see much of a reason to fret over it either.
“We’ll get to the bottom if it,” they’d assured him, but they never got back to him on whether or not they ever did.
So, all things considered, Wayne knew firsthand about the strange things a man could find in the back-bush of his own farm, but it still took him by surprise when he and Dary stumbled upon the latest oddity his land had to offer.
A moose- specifically, a big old bull, lying dead on its side in the snow with one antler broken roughly in half and its guts torn viciously away from its stomach like something hadn’t just been trying to find a meal, but had been trying to dig its way in . They both stared at the carnage in repressed awe, because the only thing dumb enough to try and take down a full grown bull moose was likely a Canada goose, and even though those beautiful fowl were tougher than nails with teeth on their tongues, there was no way in hell a Canada goose was capable of taking down anything bigger than a Gus-sized dog when it came right down to it.
The corpse alone was intimidating. The sheer, archaic size of it. The fact that one of its antlers lied half-buried in the snow, fractured in half and splintered, indicated that whatever killed it had power. Strength to not just kill it, but to maim it viciously in the process. As he came to understand this, Wayne subconsciously gripped the butt of his rifle just a little bit tighter.
Beside him, Dary turned his head to spit, but he didn’t take his eyes off the ruination of that great big moose.
“What’ya reckon’s done that, Wayne?” he asked, and he was either nervous or tired or an uneasy combination of both, because there was a tightness to Dary’s voice that cut into his nonchalance and managed to get Wayne to spare him a quick look of contemplation.
He wanted to say coyote, maybe, or a wolf, more than likely, but he knew well enough that it couldn’t have been either of those things, and knew that Dary knew that, too. Creatures like that were too small, and who’d ever heard of a coyote getting after a moose? Not savage enough, even on the off chance they’d gone rabid and the moose was sick or something. They didn’t have claws nearly big enough to shred open the side of a moose like that anyway, because whatever tore into it had hollowed it out almost completely.
A bear then , he reasoned to himself, although given that it was the dead of winter and any bear capable of disemboweling a moose was probably tucked away in its den, sleeping the cold away, hardly bothered enough to decimate a moose. A moose.
Coyote, wolf, or bear, though- all three would’ve eaten more than just its guts, which were left in long, wet tendrils strewn across the snow like big pink worms.
“Dunno, Dar,” he eventually said slowly. He stood there looking puzzled, because there weren’t any tracks in the thick snow for him to make a fair assessment of what could’ve happened, but he tried not to let it show too much. “But if it starts comin’ round near the house, it’ll be trouble.”
Dary grunted in affirmation and hocked another spit, pulling the phlegm into his throat with a gross wet sound. He licked his lips afterwards. He couldn’t take his eyes off the corpse.
“Better find it before it gets there, then,” he said after a long moment.
“That’s the biggest Texas sized 10-4 I ever heard, good buddy.”
Even so, they stood there silently, contemplating the dead moose for a long minute before hoisting up their rifles to bravely spend the day prowling about in the bush searching, tracking, dreading running into whatever butchered the moose. In the end, though, they couldn’t find even a small trace of it, whatever it was.
No prints to follow, no blood-trail towards a den; nothing. The snow around the moose had been too disturbed by whatever it’d been fighting to retain any helpful information, and they were left with nothing but the knowledge of a threat.
After the sun began to set, they crept slowly back to the farmhouse, unnerved, retreating from the darkness before they started taking potshots at shadows that started to look a little too wrong the longer they stayed out there.
They buried the corpse the morning after Wayne reported it to wildlife. It required the use of tractors and other rented machinery to get it into the earth, but once it was gone, they all felt better for it.
Except Wayne. For a man who mostly lived inside the confines of his own mind, out of sight, out of mind never really did apply to him like it did others.
The incident with the moose left him troubled and wondering. The mere suggestion that something large and violent enough to kill a moose was running amok on his property was both equal parts infuriating and terrifying.
It could get one of the dogs, if they weren’t careful. It’d already been at the sheep; why would it stop there? He resolutely did not think of Dary, alone in his trailer on the outskirts of the property and what might happen if it started sniffing around there.
Though, that was if it continued to hang around, which, of course it did. In the months that followed, more unexplainable gore turned up around the property, but nothing as shocking as the moose. It was small things, mostly: bloodied strips of matted fur, dismembered pieces of animals (both farm-raised and wild). The corpses that began to litter the farm, coupled with the broken sections of fencing that turned up every so often were strong enough evidence to let them all know that it was still out there and still, clearly, a problem. As if to spite him, Gus and Stormy began bringing the remains of things they found out in the fields home to him, laying them out on the back porch and staining the wood dark with blood and rot and reminding him, constantly, that he couldn’t find the damn thing.
It worried him that there was something so unknown out there. He wasn’t used to having problems he couldn’t outright deal with, but no one who knew anything about what was going on at the farm could make heads or tails of it. If it was a degen he could fight them and get them to fuck off with his fists, but as it was, they couldn’t even figure out what it was they were dealing with.
Just something strange, out there in the bush.
We’ll get to the bottom of it, the authorities had assured him.
But had they? Had the authorities actually done anything at all?
With the rash of recent animal deaths around the farm, they started to keep the dogs inside at night, and some of Katy’s favourite barn cats, too.
As troubling as it all was, though, it wasn’t like they found something out there every day, or even every week (aside from what the dogs sniffed out and brought home); for the most part, the back-bush remained barren. Empty, except for the occasional degen or worm-picker they have to chase off the property for fear of finding their bodies out there one day.
There were long periods of days where livestock went untouched. Sometimes, even weeks passed where no wildlife turned up in that strange, disemboweled sort of way they’d all started to get used to, and life progressed at its usual, slow, small-town pace, until a month or so later when it all began happening again. Something strange. Something disemboweled. Something that, again, left no trace of ever having been there at all, except for the ruined corpse it often left behind that had them all scratching their heads in its wake.
We’ll get to the bottom of it.
Staring down at the bloodied remains of not one, not two, but three maimed coyotes, two of them dead, one still barely hanging on, breathing hard and whimpering for mercy, Wayne felt his frustrations reach a peak. All three of the coyotes have been practically torn to pieces, yes, pieces , and the words of that first initial assurance begin to repeat themselves in his head:
Don’t trouble yourself over it, Wayne. We’ll get to the bottom of it.
“Fuck’s sake,” he muttered, and turned away to squint off into the horizon, squaring his jaw as he internalized his frustrations in order to pretend he couldn’t hear the agonized whines of that poor coyote.
“Wayne, buddy, I hate to say it, but I think you might have a real problem on your hands here.” Dary’s face was drawn tight and pinched with exhaustion. He’d grown jaded to it; they all had, but even so he looked miserably tired. Drained in a way that suggested he’d had a rough night out at the ‘rippers or something.
The rough, unshaven scruff of a wiry beard around his jaw had Wayne do a double take, wondering when Dary’s facial hair had taken to forming anything but sporadic, unformed pre-pubescent patches.
“Well, you don’t fuckin’ say,” Wayne responded tersely as he unstrapped the gun from his shoulder. He lined up the rifle to the head of the injured coyote and held it there unwaveringly until it died on its own with one long exhalation.
Dary didn’t make any further comments. He scratched the fuzz lining his face unaware and followed Wayne around for the rest of the day as they made arrangements to bury the coyotes, sectioning off yet another piece of land that was quickly growing full of animal corpses.
And then, normalcy. Farming. Spending the evenings at MoDeans, as though a few rounds of Puppers would save them from their problem. Rumors grew about the goings on at the farm; (‘Bad gas travels fast in a small town’, someone’s always saying), despite their efforts to quell them. They hadn’t been keeping the animal carnage that had been taking place a secret, not exactly, but once enough people started hearing about it, word began spreading that maybe one of the dogs he reared had gone full Cujo, causing the produce stand’s success to take a hard financial hit, and Wayne’s frustrations only ever grew.
After the failing return to normalcy, a body.
Except, it wasn’t an animal this time.
“Jesus Christ,” Dary said, in a panicked way that meant, ‘Oh fuck buddy, we’ve stumbled onto something really terrible here’. He turned around and immediately threw up, and the sound of Dary’s sickness paired with what he was looking at was enough to make Wayne’s stomach start to turn sour too.
It was a person- a whole person; not just a hand this time. Unrecognizable, but dead and disemboweled all the same.
“Oh fuck, Wayne.” Dary choked out his name like a whimper as he wiped the spit off his chin, turning back to face the body, his eyes wide as he tried to identify it. “Is that- is that one of the skids ?”
It was bound to happen , Wayne thought idly to himself amidst Dary’s panic. The only thing left to discover out there short of another fucked up moose was a fucked up man, but even so it was shocking.
There were whole chunks missing; huge bites torn out of this man’s body that were much too large to fit into the mouth of a wolf or coyote, or even a bear. Wayne stared down at the corpse and remembered the words of the police the last time they’d been around: we’ll get to the bottom of it.
Well, they hadn’t. They hadn’t done fuck-all, from the looks of it.
“Pick your jaw up off the floor, Dary, there’s work to be done here,” he said icily, trying to channel a firmer constitution before turning away from the body with a concise, jerky movement. Anger, fear, and disgust bitterly powered through his veins, because when it came right down to it, the authorities hadn’t gotten to the bottom of anything.
They hadn’t, but he would.
With Daryl in tow, Wayne stalked back to the farmhouse with dark purpose, a plan of action already beginning to take form in his mind as they stepped into the wide opening of the barn.
“I won’t ask you to be my accomplice in this,” he said as he stood amidst the hay and a tractor, looking around briefly before taking hold of a shovel. He looked at Daryl, who was pale and clearly frightened, but seemed to already know what edict Wayne was about to lay out. “Now, I’m going to bury this man, and if you think I oughta do somethin’ different about it, well, then you’d better fuck off now. You can report me to the authorities if you like, but I think by now you and I know that nothing’s going to get accomplished that way.
“Whatever’s going on here requires more attention then they can spare, and if we don’t figure something out it’s only going to get worse.” Mental images of his dogs and friends and Katy lying out there dead and mauled rose to the forefront of his mind. “I don’t know what the fuck’s out there, but I’m willing to find out and could use the help, if you’d be so willing to lend it.”
Dary eyed the shovel in Wayne’s hand nervously, the implications of what he was saying mulling around in his mind uneasily until a stoic form of clarity stole over his face. His eyes hardened with resolve as he grabbed hold of a pickaxe lying up against the barn wall. “You know, I’d likely follow you into Hell if you asked me to,” Dary said with grim contemplation, feeling the weight of the pickaxe’s handle in his hands, his injury no longer plaguing him as it once did.
Wayne thought he did know, but felt it would’ve been too soft to say so.
Well, that’s why I asked.
“Some things are better left unsaid, good buddy,” he replied instead. He felt both relieved and full of divine purpose all at once as he gripped the wooden shovel’s handle tightly. “I’ll tell Katy after the fact so she won’t be held accountable to anything, if we get found out. Dan too, I think. Fuck, with all the bodies around here maybe we’ll let him start a garden; might take well with all the natural fertilizer and such.”
“Sounds like you’re gearing us up to be like Scooby-Doo and the Blues Clues gang here,” Dary said with a crooked, inappropriate grin.
“Those are two different things, Dar,” Wayne said sullenly before turning his steely gaze back out towards the bush, where something strange and disemboweled lay waiting to be put to rest. “But I’ll let it slide if I get to be Fred.”
“Ain’t no one else among us with a big enough neck to fill out that kerchief, super chief.”
#too lazy to format correctly just click the ao3 link#Letterkenny#letterkenny fanfic#wayne/daryl#werewolf!dary#dark comedy#black comedy#dry comedy#this is supposed to be funny but all i know how to write is drama and horror
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Branded
AO3
Sometimes Beau thinks her Mark is the only reason that her parents kept her when she was born. Marks were rare and highly coveted, particularly among those looking to climb the social ladder. Having a child with a Soulmate Mark meant that you got to parade them around to all the nobility and elites whose children also had Marks and, even if they weren’t a match, there were many connections and business deals to be made. She may have been a disappointment in literally every other regard but she had mark so maybe that could make up for it a little bit.
From the time she could walk she was dressed up in fine dresses and her mother would invite all manner of nobility and social elite to their house to compare their children’s Marks.
Her mother would make her stand in front of a room full of strangers and pull down the front of her dress to show off the deep, blood red Mark stamped on her collarbone. Beau had seen a lot of Marks over the years and she always thought that hers was the prettiest. There were dark boxy ones, all hard lines and straight edges, there were bright white ones made of overlapping circles, but she had the only red one that she’d ever seen. It was big, bigger than it really should have been honestly, shaped vaguely like a heart if you squinted at it but it was mostly free flowing lines that twirled and curled over each other.
She knew, subconsciously maybe, that they were looking for a Mark that matched hers but no one ever told her what it meant. No one ever told her who this matching Mark would be to her. She didn’t know that she had a soulmate somewhere in the world until she was eight and read it in a storybook.
“Mommy,” she called, banging on the door to her mother’s room. “Mommy!”
There was a groan from the other side and the door opened a moment later. “What,” her mother asked, looking put out. “What is it, Darling, Mommy’s busy.”
Beau held up the book and waved it around until her mother sighed and took it from her hand. “Is it true? I have a soulmate?”
Her mother chuckled and gave her a kind smile, bending down to look her in the eye. “Is that what this is about? Of course you have a soulmate, that’s what all these parties have been about, we’re trying to find him for you. Then, when you’re older, you can get married to him and live happily ever after. Who knows, maybe he’s a prince, maybe he’s heir to a vast wealth. Wouldn’t that be lovely?”
Beau thought about that for a moment frowned. “But what if my soulmate isn’t either of those things? What if he’s poor? What if he’s not even human, Mommy?”
Her mother gave her that look that Beau knew meant she thought that Beau was kidding. “Then we’ll find you another suitable husband, Darling. Don’t worry.”
Beau felt rage start to fill her. “What? No, Mommy, no! I don’t want a suitable husband, I want my soulmate!”
Her mother sighed and moved to stand, calling down the hall. “Eugenia, could you come gather Beauregard? She’s throwing another tantram!” She shut the door.
-
Beau was fourteen when she made up her mind. She was in her room, staring out the window as the carriages arrived through the gate. It would be less than an hour now until she was expected downstairs to greet their guests. The fourth party of the year and her mother was running out of Marked suitors. Before long she’d be giving up on finding a Match and would be trying to sell Beau off to the highest bidder with a suitable son.
Beau looked over her shoulder at the fireplace across the room and the iron poker that was sitting in the fire and turning bright with heat. She took a deep breath and pushed off the wall, walking towards the fireplace. She picked up the wooden end of the poker and it was softly warm against her palm but she could feel the heat pouring off the pointed end. She took a deep breath and looked down at the Mark on her collarbone again. For the last time.
“I belong to me,” she whispered, running the tips of her fingers over it. “I’ll find you, with or without this thing,” she promised the woman on the other side of the Mark, because she had known for at least the last year that the person waiting for her was going to be a woman. “I’ll find you but to do that I need to be free of this. I belong to me. I belong to-”
She pressed the flat of the hot end of the poker to the Mark before she could talk herself out of it. She knew that she screamed because a few weeks later, one of the shopkeepers in town said he had heard her from his house, but she didn’t remember screaming.
Her mother spent the next several months trying to find a cleric or doctor or witch who could heal the Mark. The clerics healed the burn as best they could. She spent all of those first few days with their family priest of Erathis and he would dump as much healing magic as he could into her. By the time he was done, the deep burn looked like it was a decade old but it was still a burn scar. The Mark that had once been there had become an unrecognizable red blob on her skin.
When the priest told her parents that the Mark would never go back to the way it had been and that they would never be able to prove a viable Match with it, Beau smiled. That was the first time her father hit her.
-
She was pretty sure that that had been the breaking point, for both her and for her father. She’d dropped everything that they had tried to force her to be and rebelled with everything she had. And her father responded in kind, installing new and tougher measures to keep her in line. He hired a couple mages to come in and cast spell after spell around her room to keep her trapped inside after dark but it had only taken her one afternoon to figure out a way around them. He tried buying an amulet that would track her movements but she just lead the man he’d hired to drag her back home on a wild goose chase around the entire town all night.
She was pretty sure that he used her stealing of the wine as an excuse. He’d been planning this for a long time and all he needed was a reason.
There was a cleric in the carriage when they pushed her inside and shut the door. He was a kindly older man in blue robes, similar to those that the monks who’d dragged her here had been wearing but a different style for a different profession.
“Welcome, Sister,” he said. “I know it’s confusing now but everything will be better once we get to the Reserve. Come, let me heal your bruises.” Beau didn’t move but she also didn’t stop him when he reached over to touch her face. “They got you good on the cheek here. Does it hurt?”
Beau shrugged. “It wasn’t the monks who did that one.”
Understanding dawned on his face but he set about healing the worst of her wounds. When he finished he gave her a reassuring smile. “You’ve had a lonely life, child. But I hope you’ll find a home at Cobalt. Maybe even a family”
Beau sighed. “No offence, buddy, but I’ve had a family and I ain’t too fucking impressed. I’m my own home now. I don’t need anyone else and I sure as fuck don’t need Cobalt.”
He gently moved away the collar of her cotton shirt to heal a bruise that disappeared underneath but paused when he saw the top of her burn scar. He looked up to meet her eyes and she didn’t stop him when he started pulling it down little by little until he could see almost half of the scar. He hummed thoughtfully and let the shirt go so that it bounced back to cover it once more. “But maybe we will need you. Did you do that yourself?”
Beau nodded and rubbed her scar through the shirt. Sometimes she dreamed of the woman with her Match. She’d be beautiful and kind and loving and funny and free as the wind. But then she’d remember that she had no proof. She’d burned her only proof away. Would her Match believe her? Would she be able to look at the burned remains of Beau’s Mark and imagine that it used to look like her own? Or would she send her away and keep waiting for a Matching Mark that would never come? Maybe her Match would believe her but would be angry that she’d taken their destiny into her own hands and burned it away. Maybe she’d find her and lose her all in one day. She hoped her soulmate would be able to understand. She had to believe that there was at least one person out in the world who would understand.
“I belong to me. My life is mine and no one else’s.”
She’d said it partially to remind herself but he smiled at her anyway. “Yes, child, it certainly is. And I, for one, cannot wait to see what you do with it.”
#critical role#critical role fic#tw: past child abuse#tw: self harm#beauregard#soulmate identifying marks#soulmates#angst#long post
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A Nice Day Off
Request: Could you write a spn/tua crossover fic? I need this in my life!
Pairing: slight Destiel. That’s it. It’s also pretty long because I felt like this needed backstory and the concept was fun to write. Enjoy!
Dean groans with frustration at the sight of a red hem turning the corner of the labyrinth he’s currently trapped in with his brother and Cas, with no way to call their backup, Jack, for help, because there’s no service in this goddamn maze.
First a trail of bodies with different organs cut out starting in, what a coincidence, the same town Sam and Dean were hunting a ghost in. But the mutilated people hadn’t stopped showing up in the hospital, even though they’d definitely taken care of the ghost. Then there was a girl who’d had one of her eyes scooped out, claiming to only remember seeing the color red before she’d passed out again from the pain. The color red, and a weird shed in the woods behind the high school with strange markings on the door.
The shed hadn’t been hard to find. It’d been even easier to find with the obvious bloody trail leading up to the door where, of course, Cas had identified the markings as Satanic.
Then, because they’re all dumbasses, Sam, Dean, and Cas stepped into the shed, and Dean hasn’t seen his brother since.
The shed, which had appeared to be smaller than a regular motel room from the outside, turns out to have a humongous inside. There had been a trapdoor that led to a chute or something once they all stepped inside and Dean and Sam had gone down different sides.
(And yes, the only reason Cas stayed with Dean is because he was holding onto Dean’s jacket. Shut up.)
Then Dean had seen a figure in red running down whatever hallway they’d landed in and he’d taken off. No matter how fast he runs, the figure in red always seems to be one step ahead of him.
“Son of a bitch!” he finally yells, hitting the wall with the side of his fist with frustration. “Sammy!”
Sam doesn’t respond.
Dean swears some more, his hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath. Cas, as usual, is unaffected by everything that Dean is affected by, which is, as usual, infuriating.
Dean looks up, ready to snap at Cas for being useless when it comes to finding his brother or catching the figure in red, but he sees the figure in red peering back around the corner.
Oh.
This is a game of cat and mouse, and Dean’s not entirely confident he’s not the mouse.
“What do you want, you bitch?” he wheezes, standing up and groaning. He’s getting too old for this.
The figure in red flicks its head and for the first time Dean hears his brother’s voice.
“Dean!” It sounds to be coming from behind the red figure.
“Sammy!” Dean bellows, cursing internally again before starting to jog again. He’s not entirely sure he wants to reach where the figure in red is leading him, but there’s also the chance that his brother is in trouble.
A giggle floats down the corridor and the figure in red whips away.
Dean is lost. Definitely. He’s lost count of the rights and the lefts he’s taken. It’s at least four more turns before he gets a better glimpse of the figure in red as the hallway opens up into a massive chamber with at least five other hallway entrances.
Basically, this was a maze. A massive underground maze. And now Sam, Dean, and Cas are in the middle of it.
“Sammy!” Dean barks when he sees his brother on the opposite side of the room. He doesn’t look injured, but still—“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Dean,” Sam replies. “You’re fine, right? And you, Cas?”
Both men nod their heads.
The figure in red lowers its hood and Dean recognizes who it is.
Because of course it’s Rowena.
“What are you doing here?” he spits. Witches. “Why’d you lead us in a wild goose chase in a maze? Wait—you’re the reason for all the mutilations, aren’t you?”
“Of course,” the witch laughs. “But don’t worry. They’re all alive, correct? I left them at the hospital after retrieving what I wanted from them.” She winks over her shoulder at Sam. “You boys must be rubbing off on me.”
“So this was all for a spell?” Dean asks, moving to step forward but stopping as if he’s been tethered to a brick wall. He looks back and sees that Cas has a hold of the back of his jacket. He shrugs. It’s a valid point; Rowena is a wild card if they’ve ever met one. It’s better to be cautious and not get within reach of her to hex them or spew bodily fluids.
“Yes,” Rowena answers briskly. “I need to pop into another dimension quickly and get another ingredient for a spell I’m working on that will help you with whatever apocalypse the three of you have started.”
Dean scowls. Well, yes, there is (but only sort of) a looming apocalypse on the horizon, but she wasn’t supposed to know about that. “Why? What’s in it for you?”
“Your enemies have a price on my head,” she replies. “While you three seem to have a knack for escaping the clutches of death, I’d prefer not to have to create another charm to prevent me from the unpleasant sensation. It can be quite painful to die, even if I survive.”
Dean looks at Sam as the witch starts to chant, and he shrugs. He’s always had a soft spot for the witch, but Dean doesn’t know why. He takes small solace in the fact that Sam’s here, and if worst comes to worst he’ll be the one to end the witch once and for all. Somehow.
“Then why did you lure us down this labyrinth?” Cas asks.
Rowena says a final word and a crack splits the silence, followed by a white light that splits the air. “I have no idea what’s in this new dimension. I quite wanted protection, seeing as how our best interests align in this endeavor.”
Dean can’t argue with that sound logic. He examines what must be the portal suspiciously.
“That’s not any spell we’ve seen before,” Sam points out.
Rowena waves her hand airily. “I made a new one that’s much more convenient. No more pesky one-in-a-million ingredients. Just a few human body parts and some common herbs. Simple, if you’ve got enough talent. It’ll last for eight hours.” She winks at Sam. “Are you boys ready?”
“Hold on a sec,” Sam mutters. He fishes his phone out of his pocket. “Should probably give Jack a heads-up.” He scowls. “No service.”
“Great,” Dean gripes. Poor kid’s gonna be confused and worried for a full day before they get back. “Let’s make this trip as quick as possible, then.”
Cas grips Dean’s hand (shut up, Sam) and Sam grabs the hem of Dean’s jacket as Dean uses his free hand to grip the shoulder of Sam’s jacket. No more taking any chances of going down different chutes. In a line, they follow Rowena into the blinding light...
And into an empty room.
Sam spins on his heel, taking in the area, and Dean looks up. A massive steel chandelier hangs from the ceiling of what must be a mansion, judging by the size of the foyer and the many rooms that look to branch off of it.
“Ah, civilization,” Rowena says, pleased. She straightens her already-straight dress and pats her hair. “Perfect.”
“Where are we?” Cas asks, frowning. “I can’t sense any of my brothers and sisters.”
“We must have landed in a universe without heaven,” Sam exhales. “Remember Jared Padalecki? And Supernatural?”
“And Jensen Ackles,” Dean acknowledges, nodding. “Sorry, Cas, but looks like you’re outta grace for the moment.”
Cas looks at his hands, frowning.
Something hurtles through the air and buries itself into Cas’s chest. A knife. Fuck. Will that hurt him, even though he’s an angel, but he doesn’t have any powers here, but does that just apply to grace and wings or—
“Sam, is he okay?” Dean asks tersely, holding up his gun in the direction the knife had come from. He sees a pair of eyes glint and adjusts accordingly.
Something flashes behind him and the clicking of a safety near his ear makes Dean’s blood run cold.
“Don’t even try it,” Sam growls. Dean knows that he’s got his gun pointed at whoever’s pointing one at him.
“Or what?” the person hisses through gritted teeth. “You’ll shoot me?”
“Yes,” Sam replies resolutely. It must surprise him.
“I’m fine,” Cas groans, on the ground and not sounding very fine. “I suppose our questions were answered. I am still unable to be killed except by my—”
“Shh,” Dean hisses, not wanting to give their attackers any ideas.
“We must have gotten off on the wrong foot,” Rowena calls, her voice lilting in the dusty air. “We didn’t mean to end up in your house.”
“Really?” an unfamiliar voice snarls behind Dean. “What’s that light?”
“What are they talking about, Five?” a deep, grating voice asks.
“Does it look like I know?” the voice snaps back. It’s the voice of a kid. “They came through a light in the middle of our foyer. Do I have any experience with that sort of stuff?”
“Uh... yes,” another person points out.
“Fair enough,” the kid admits.
“Sam, is there a preteen holding a gun to my head right now?” Dean asks, rolling his eyes.
Sam can’t keep the snicker out of his voice, even though he knows this is a serious situation. “Yep.”
“Look,” Dean starts, “I’m sure if we all put down our weapons, we can sort something out.”
The preteen snorts. “I’m not about to compromise to some robbers breaking into our house.”
“Buddy, you’re not gonna be involved in the conversation,” Sam retorts. “The adults are gonna handle this one.”
Cas sighs. There’s movement at Dean’s feet—undoubtedly he’s standing up—and two gunshots.
Dean winces.
“Fine, fine,” Cas grumbles. Dean whirls just in time to see Sam knock the gun out of the stunned preteen boy’s hands.
“What the hell are you?” the boy whispers.
“Five?” a new voice asks. “What the hell is going on?”
Something flashes and Dean chances a look behind himself. Fuck. It’s Jack, stumbling out of the portal. How he’d known to go inside the shed, find the middle of the maze, and jump through the portal, Dean doesn’t know.
“Hello!” Jack beams at his three dads and then at the six people trickling into the room. “It’s nice to meet you!”
“He’s got powers too!” a man holding a throwing knife marvels. Undoubtedly he’s the one that threw it at Cas’s chest. “But he’s not our age.”
“Like I said,” Dean repeats. “I’m sure we can work something out.”
~~~~
Rowena left the boys to deal with the five adults and one bloodthirsty preteen, citing the need to find whatever ingredient that exists in this universe and not in their own.
There’s a monstrous man called Luther (who is very white), and the man dressed in black leather that had thrown a knife at Cas is called Diego (who is definitely not white, probably Mexican). He marvels at how Cas survived the knife to the chest as well as two bullet wounds, even going so far as insisting that he take off his shirt to prove he doesn’t have a bulletproof vest on.
Dean hadn’t liked them all marveling over the angel’s surprisingly toned chest.
Then there’s a lady named Allison (who is African-American) and another lady called Vanya (who is white). The preteen boy is called Five, and he’s definitely at least part not-Caucasian.
And they all claim to be siblings.
Dean puzzles over that for five seconds before remembering that adoption is a thing. The jump to another reality must have scrambled his brains again.
“This is my older brother, Dean,” Sam introduces. “This is Cas, Dean’s boyfr—”
Cas clears his throat. He knows that Dean still isn’t comfortable with people knowing about their... relationship.
“Well, he’s an angel. And this is our son, Jack, who is half-archangel,” Sam finishes.
“He’s... all three of you’s son?” Vanya asks, and, despite the bad grammar, Sam nods.
“Adopted,” Dean adds. “Technically, he’s Lucifer’s son. But Lucifer’s a major dick that tortured my brother for about a thousand years, and the kid isn’t stupid, so he stays with us.”
Jack preens at being called not stupid, which is kind of a low bar. Maybe Dean should compliment the kid more. No, scratch that, he should definitely compliment the kid more. God knows Dean would’ve liked a little more appreciation for taking care of Sammy when he was younger from John. “I killed Lucifer for hurting Sam,” he adds angelically. “He wasn’t very nice.”
Sam reaches out and pats Jack’s knee. “We’re all very proud of you, Jack.”
“Lucifer?” Luther repeats. “Uh...”
“Oh, yeah,” Dean adds. “You guys don’t have God in this universe.”
“We have Christianity,” Allison says, a little defensively.
“Wait,” Sam yelps. “He’s—” He points at Five, who is definitely at the most fifteen years old, and currently drinking a margarita. Judging by the ingredients on the counter, it is most definitely not non-alcoholic.
“That’s a long story,” Diego sighs.
“We could take turns?” Jack suggests.
~~~~
At the end of it, everyone but Jack, who opts for a glass of chocolate milk, is drinking alcohol. Apparently his powers are still intact in this universe, maybe because he’s as powerful or more so than an archangel. That’s useful to know.
“So you’re all the same age,” Sam says for the third time. “Except for the kid, who is not actually a kid.”
Five nods. “58.”
“But for most of those years he was completely isolated and therefore not any more mature than a regular fifteen-year-old kid, only more murderous,” someone says singsong behind them. Dean jumps.
Five scowls. “That is so not true, asshole—”
“Ah, yes,” Allison sighs. “This is Klaus.”
“It is definitely true,” Klaus argues back, taking the margarita out of Five’s hands and drinking the rest of it in one gulp. “He’s feral. All teenage boys are feral.”
“He’s also your sibling?” Cas checks.
“Don’t ask about his power,” Diego mutters. “It’s a sensitive topic.”
“I am not feral!” Five sputters. With a flash of blue light, he disappears and reappears in front of Klaus, hands on his hips.
“Uh-huh,” Klaus nods, sidestepping him. “How could you have grown up without other people?”
“I had Dolores!” Five snarls, pulling a handgun out of his pocket and pointing it at his brother. Klaus seems unbothered. He pulls two bottles of whiskey from the shelf of alcohol and tosses the other behind his back. Five disappears and reappears, catching the bottle with a huff and stowing the gun. Apparently all is forgiven.
“Ah...” Allison starts, looking pained. “I suppose it’s no use to remind you that we don’t point guns at our siblings.”
“This is a regular occurrence, yes?” Castiel asks.
“Unfortunately,” Vanya answers, wearing an identical expression of consternation.
Cas points at Dean. “You shouldn’t be too worried. Sam and Dean have died multiple times. One time Sam even killed him. They turned out fine.”
Sam winces at that comment.
“It’s fine, Sam,” Dean says automatically. He doesn’t even remember Sam killing him during that one time Gabriel decided to be an even bigger dick than normal. “Don’t even remember it.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Five blurts out, staring at the grown men with new respect.
“They never even agree to not bring weapons into the kitchen,” Cas continues.
“I know, right?” Allison exclaims. “Like, we’re all eating breakfast! Don’t clean your knives, Diego!” She gives her brother the stink eye.
“What if something happens?” Diego and Dean retort back in unison. They exchange startled looks.
“One time,” Jack adds, “Dean shot me in the back in a grocery store.” He then goes back to drinking his chocolate milk, content to listen to the conversation.
Luther opens his mouth to further ask about that statement but his younger/older sibling interrupts him. “No, no, I want to hear more about coming back to life,” Five insists, draping himself over a chair.
“Yeah,” Luther agrees, sending an uneasy look in Jack’s direction when the boy snaps his fingers and his glass of chocolate milk fills itself. “So Sam dies, and Dean sells his soul to bring him back. Then Dean dies and goes to hell, Cas saves him, and you’ve been saving the world ever since?”
Sam shrugs. “More or less.”
“And there’s another apocalypse,” Vanya says slowly. “And you’re stopping it by coming to our universe.”
Dean shrugs. “Rowena more or less made it so we had no choice.” He glances into the foyer, where the white light of the portal doesn’t waver.
Vanya nods and then nudges Diego with her elbow. Her brother groans and rolls his eyes but leans forward and holds a hand out to Cas. “Sorry for stabbing you, man. No hard feelings?”
Cas takes his hand, a mysterious half-smile playing on his lips. “Of course.”
Vanya clears her throat. “Five, apologize for shooting Castiel or I’m taking your gun.”
Five snorts. “So? I’ve got more.”
“How many more?” Luther asks.
“Not telling.”
“I heard a rumor,” Allison says teasingly, “that you told us how many guns you have.”
“Fifteen,” Five says promptly, then he scowls. “Bitch. I’m still not giving you them. Get your own.”
Klaus says out of the blue, “No, I will not!” He flushes when everyone turns to look at him. “Ben told me to tell Diego to throw a knife at Jack since it won’t hurt him either.”
Diego brightens at the idea and Sam leaps off of the couch, positioning himself between the murderous superpowered human and the half-archangel. “We still don’t know why the angel’s powers are working while there’s no heaven,” he says firmly. “We’re not risking any more injuries.”
“I could just cut him,” Diego wheedles. “Just to see if it makes a cut and then it heals or if nothing happens. Come on. We don’t know how angels work.”
Jack shrugs and Dean barks, “We’re not cutting Jack for a science experiment!”
Klaus claps. “We should do science experiments!” as if he hadn’t heard Dean at all.
And that is how Dean finds himself in the courtyard of the Umbrella Academy mansion, torn between cheering for Cas and Luther as they compete to see who can lift the largest weight.
“It’s definitely going to be Cas,” Sam mutters. The Winchester brothers stand side-by-side in identical poses as they assess the experiments.
“Hey!” Allison yelps. “Luther, don’t you dare pick up my car! Dean, don’t encourage them!” The half-gorilla man sends her a sheepish look and shrugs at Cas.
Dean holds up his hands. “Like I can control them, lady.”
Allison rolls her eyes. “Castiel, come over here real quick.”
Well, that’s done for the day, Dean supposes. He turns around to see Jack with a blindfold over his eyes disappearing and reappearing, apparently playing tag with Five while both boys use their teleportation powers.
A bright smile on his face, Jack disappears before Five’s even left and appears on top of the boy, sending both ageless kids tumbling to the ground, giggling.
“Scary,” Luther mutters at Dean’s side. “Never seen Five laugh before.”
Dean looks at him out of the corner of his eye. “You ever been able to not pick something up?”
“I’ve never tried a house or something like that, obviously,” Luther admits, rubbing his chin. “But I’ve never really found something that I haven’t been able to lift.”
“That’s so cool,” Dean admits, shaking his head.
“Yo, Winchester!” Diego yells, waving as both Winchesters whip their heads around. “Target practice!”
“You say you can’t miss a target, huh?” Sam asks, smirking.
Diego nods.
“Well, we can do that without having a superpower,” Dean brags, all in good nature of course, and the competition is on.
When it’s discovered that Sam and Dean really are as good as Diego from years of practice, they call Jack over to move the targets midair. This is where Diego smirks, as Sam and Dean do miss a few and he misses none, even when his knives flip over themselves, zip back and forth, and defy the laws of gravity as they fly through the air.
“I’m going to use the restroom,” Dean announces at one point. “Where—”
“Walk straight, go up the stairs, take your first left,” Luther directs. He claps Dean on the shoulder and sends him stumbling away, hissing as he rubs his shoulder. “Uh, sorry.”
Dean really didn’t mean to eavesdrop. He’s two steps up when he hears Castiel’s voice and realizes he’d gone inside and not come back out. Curious now, he follows the voices down a staircase and flattens himself against the wall near the doorway of what must be the kitchen, judging by the smell of food inside the room.
“—determined to throw himself into the line of fire,” Cas gripes.
“I know, right?” Vanya exclaims. “Five seems to think he’s invincible or something.”
“One time he told me he was fine after getting stabbed because he’s gotten stabbed before!”
Allison giggles. “Like you can build up an immunity to stab wounds.”
“It’s quite hard to protect someone with the survival instincts of a squirrel on crack cocaine,” Cas remarks. Dean’s face colors when he realizes that he’s walked in on a gossip session consisting of his boyfriend and the two exasperated siblings of some weird-ass people.
“He loves you though, right?” Allison asks. “I could see it in the way he looked at you.”
Dean’s face gets even hotter. He’s not a big fan of the ‘L’ word.
“We have a profound bond,” Cas replies simply. That’s always been enough for their relationship.
Dean sneaks back up the stairs, hoping they don’t hear his footsteps. When he reaches the foyer, Rowena steps into the building, looking entirely too pleased with herself.
“Did you get it?” he asks gruffly.
Rowena smiles. “Of course I did. Are you ready to go?”
“Uh...” Dean knows he has to get back to his universe. He has a responsibility to save the world, of course. But it was enjoyable to hear about other people’s crazy lives and be able to relax. He settles for gesturing for her to follow and he leads her out to the courtyard.
He and Rowena watch as Sam tries frantically to stop Five from cutting Jack’s arm, even as Jack holds his arm out and holds him in place.
“I’m fine,” Jack insists. “See?” Five pokes his skin with the tip of the knife, marveling when the skin opens but no blood runs out and it knits itself back together in mere seconds.
“That’s so cool,” Diego breathes, shaking his head.
“Hey!” Dean barks, making all the spectators jump. “What did I say? Did I say no cutting Jack open or did I say yes cutting Jack open?”
Sheepishly, Jack lets Sam go and shrugs at Five. “Is it time for us to go already, Miss Rowena?”
“I’m sorry, Jack, but yes,” she answers.
Every person in the courtyard slumps a little bit.
“Did I hear Rowena?” Cas asks behind Dean, making him jump. “Oh. I supposed it was you. Our time is nearly running out.”
“You guys are leaving?” Vanya asks, visibly disappointed.
“We have an apocalypse to prevent,” Sam explains, gesturing for Jack to follow him. Jack misunderstands the signal and takes Sam’s outstretched hand, startling him—but in a good way.
Rowena winks at the disappointed Five. “Yes, but once we’ve finished saving the world for the umpteenth time I don’t think it’ll be too hard to come visit again.”
Diego brightens. “And we can stab the angels more!”
“NO!”
~~~~
“Ugh, I’m bored,” Five gripes, throwing himself backwards on the couch. “There’s nothing to do. No one to kill.” Disappointingly, the Temps Commission has stopped sending more agents after Five, probably realizing he thinks of them merely as dummies to practice his murder skills on.
“You could do your schoolwork,” Klaus informs him. Both brothers make faces immediately. “That was Ben,” he says hastily. “Not me. Don’t do your schoolwork.”
“Wasn’t going to anyway, but thanks,” Five grunts. Maybe if all the blood flow goes to his head he’ll pass out. That’d be a fun way to pass the time.
A loud crack echoes through the mansion, almost like a gunshot, and Five topples off the couch.
“Hello!” someone calls out. “Is anybody home?”
A wide smile stretches across Five’s face. Finally. Someone to kill that can’t die.
“The Winchesters are back!”
Umbrella Academy Taglist:
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#tua#The Umbrella Academy#SPN#spn fic#spn fanfic#supernatural#Supernatural fanfic#supernatural fic#dean winchester#dean x castiel#cas x dean#castiel#dean winchester x castiel#destiel#Sam Winchester#rowena#luther hargreeves#diego hargreeves#Allison Hargreeves#klaus hargreeves#five#five hargreeves#vanya hargreeves#crossover#jack kline#ben hargreeves
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95. buddy the dentist (1934)
release date: december 15th, 1934
series: looney tunes
director: ben hardaway
starring: jack carr (buddy), bernice hansen (cookie)
the last cartoon of 1934! i can’t say it was an exciting year—probably the least memorable year yet. the merrie melodies started to go into color, though, which is exciting! 1935 will be a big year. porky makes his debut, as does tex avery. termite terrace would be born, and the world has never known peace since! also interesting to note—jack king’s an animator?? i wonder how that happened. a little job on the side?but for now, we focus on buddy, who plays dentist after his dog suffers a toothache from eating too much fudge.
someone’s in the kitchen with buddy, someone’s in the kitchen i know. someone’s in the kitchen with buddy, it’s his pup, bozo. buddy’s whipping up a batch of fudge, with enthralling and rigorous instructions such as “think of a number from 1 to 100” and “stir until exhausted”.
bozo sniffs the fudge, to which buddy scolds “ah ah! burny burny!” i think that’s the LEAST of your concerns if your dog is that close to chocolate. nevertheless, buddy gives his dog one last knowing glance as he strolls off, the fudge unattended. bozo takes this as an opportunity to lick the boiling death trap, yelping in pain at the burn. very amusing to watch him sucking up water desperately to playfully lapping it once buddy comes back in, shrugging.
quite the masterful baker as buddy pours the contents of the pan into a syringe, flipping the pan back on the shelf and balancing the syringe on his finger. he shoots squares of fudge onto a cookie sheet, and one into bozo’s mouth to pacify him. i’m not gonna riddle the review with “HE FEED HIS DOG CHOCOLATE 😱😱😱😱”, but just know i found the entire concept hilarious as i watched it and all i could think of was “this is such a bad idea”. bozo instigates, wanting more, but buddy reprimands him, scolding “that’s all you get. and besides, candy’s bad for dogs’ teeth.” begrudgingly does bozo mock buddy once he leaves the picture. of course, buddy catches him sniffing the pan of fudge and orders him to come near him.
buddy rings up cookie while bozo sulks next to him. i love the detail of the bird listening in on the conversation. buddy teases cookie, promoting her to guess what he has for her. he entices her with a promise of some fudge, while bozo, seeing that buddy is effectively distracted, seeks out the pan of fudge. it topples to the ground, and his mission is accomplished as he eagerly indulges in a few hearty helpings.
all of the sudden, bozo yelps in pain as a bell chimes forebodingly. a visit to the mirror confirms he has a toothache, represented by a little figure (i can’t make out what it’s supposed to be: a dog, a flea, or satan are my guesses LOL) hammering away at his tooth. i wonder if this is a jack king scene? since he loves his open mouths so much. bozo cries in pain, which prompts buddy to break his goody two shoes persona and shout “hey, shut up! shut up!” ah, misunderstanding, another great comedy point. cookie believes buddy is telling HER to shut up and hangs up on him, scoffing that he can’t tell her to shut up. damn right!
aggravated, buddy runs into the kitchen (first time holding the ear piece and accidentally getting yanked back into the living room) to see what the fuss is about. he drags bozo by the collar and props him up on the table, exclaiming “now see what you’ve done!” bozo is too distracted by the pain to be properly guilt tripped, and buddy inspects the situation. instead of angry, he cracks a grin as he tells bozo “see, i told you candy would hurt your teeth!” considerate as always! buddy reaches into the drawer and brings out an arsenal of intimidating tools: a hammer, a screwdriver, some pliers... the works.
buddy painfully struggles to pull the offending tooth, but to no avail. they both fly backwards into a wall, a calendar/advertisement fluttering into the clutches of buddy. it advertises “DR MOHLER — painless dentist, WE USE GAS”. i love the detail of “octember”, a gag reused in porky’s double trouble. ah, gas, of course! buddy is enticed by the concept of drugging his dog. he places a funnel over bozo’s mouth and turns a gas valve. jesus, buddy! of course, this isn’t supposed to be dark. the dog falls asleep and swells up like a balloon.
with some quick thinking, buddy uses a vacuum to suck his dog back down. nothing can ever go right for either of them—the vacuum bag explodes, sending buddy flying against an ironing board and propelling him outside, where he‘s propelled back inside thanks to a clothesline. buddy hears bozo crying (now conscious), and finds him hiding under buddy’s pillow in his bedroom.
the “heavy object tied to a string tied to a tooth” trope, tried and true. by heavy object, i usually mean door. but, for some reason, buddy has dumbbells in his bedroom (gotta pump the iron!) and ties the string to bosko’s tooth and around a dumbbell. he tosses the dumbbell, and bozo merely chases it and returns it to him. strong dog! they try again, this time with the same results, bozo sporting a top hat and an even BIGGER dumbbell.
finally, buddy realizes tying the string to the doorknob is the way to go. of course, bozo begs no, and buddy then ties the string to his OWN tooth to prove it isn’t so bad and that it won’t hurt.
just in time for a random cat to wander into buddy’s home! bozo chases the cat, and buddy is forced along in the chase as he’s tied to his fervent pooch. a wild goose chase ensues, buddy and bozo landing in a sprinkler outside as the cat mocks them. bozo chases after the cat once more, poor buddy shanghaied as he struggles to keep up. he lands in a wagon and is dragged along the street, nearly run over by a car. a cat knocks over a man digging in a trench, who serves as the perfect bridge as bozo and buddy cross the trench, the oblivious man scratching his head.
the chase carries on into cookie’s yard, where she’s lounging in a hammock, reading a book. buddy and bozo fly over cookie, running into her and knocking the hammock to the ground. buddy finds bozo’s tooth, showing it off triumphantly. cookie finds her own prize—buddy’s tooth. iris out as we all laugh it off.
not the most entertaining cartoon to watch, but it did keep me engaged. the chase scene was nice, lots of pep and energy. i don’t have any major gripes with the short, maybe a bit boring in some parts but it was ultimately slightly amusing. buddy didn’t have too much personality (like always), but it was refreshing to hear him have some dialogue. i think that’s one of the biggest problems—some of the buddy cartoons have such minimal dialogue. not that you can’t have silent cartoons. a cartoon that can convey its message well without dialogue is a very strong one indeed, and there are lots of great cartoons like that. but usually music, animation, ACTING, and of course PERSONALITY carry those cartoons. the buddy cartoons aren’t there yet, they’re still rather primitive. not crude, but still in the baby steps. a lot of progress has been made though! this may be worth a watch, just because it’s so absurd.
link!
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Gift Fic - You Carry the Sun
I’m something like two weeks late because of what amounts to just a lot of Real Life Garbage, but my buddy @rufinagertrude had a birthday just pass and is now ONE OF THE THE ANCIENT ONES so I figured I would commemorate the occasion with a gift! And that gift is Nike, the arrogant, self-important tinkerer, snarking and maybe being almost like friends with my own arrogant, self-important tinkerer, Davin. They both lost limbs and are touchy about them. Obviously that means they get along like a house on fire.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY RUFINA, ILU AND I’M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG
1550 words.
"What in the Goddess' name are you two doing in here?"
Only Finn looked up as Nike stepped through the workshop’s heavy wooden door, and the look of focus on his face instantly curled into a wicked smirk.
“Working,” he said casually, and propped an elbow on the table in front of him. “That's what this bit is for, isn't it? Or do you just like coming in here and pretending that you know what the fuck you're doing -"
Nike rolled his eyes and turned to Davin before his brother could finish. "Slightly less idiotic one: same question. Why are you here?"
"My arm broke," said Davin, without looking up from the table he was hunched over. Nike privately let himself believe that he'd seen the faint pass of smirk on his face. “I need to fix it. Just piss off somewhere for ten minutes, and when you come back we’ll be gone, aye?”
Finn straightened, scowling. "I was talking -"
"I am not going to 'piss off,'" said Nike, as if Finn hadn’t spoken. "This is my shop. I thought you might have some grasp of that concept of social grace, but alas, it appears to be as vacant as the space between your ears.”
“Oh, aye," said Davin, "very commanding statement coming from someone who won’t take ten minutes to let a man fix his fucking arm.”
Finn stepped pointedly around the table. “Hey -”
“I could have been inclined to let you in if you’d asked,” said Nike.
“Not fucking likely,” said Davin. “I know the wee black worm you call a heart might swell up and kill you if you’re kind too often, but -”
“Hey!”
“- but I don’t intend to hobble around while I wait for a goddamned miracle. Finn.” Davin glanced up to where his brother had turned to him, practically seething with rage. "Remember what I said about those wires? That what serves for a prodigy around here would certainly have some?” He jerked a thumb back towards Nike. “Seems he’s empty of those as well as brains and talent. I’ll need them from the ship.”
Finn made an indignant sound somewhere in the back of his throat. “I’m not your fucking nursemaid,” he snarled. “Fetch them yourself!”
Davin lifted his head away from where it was bent over the table, up to meet Finn’s glare with a hard look of his own. For a moment, Nike was certain they were about to start shouting, and braced himself. Then Davin took a pointed glance down to the prosthetic laid out on the table in front of him, sighed, and moved to stand.
“Right, then.”
Across the room, Nike watched a curious flutter of emotion across Finn’s face - indignation, flashing briefly into hard-eyed concern, and then settling on annoyance and frustration vying for equal purchase. He reached out as Davin got to his feet and shoved him back into his chair.
“Fuck’s sake, sit still. I’ll get them,” he snapped, then turned on a heel and stormed towards the door. His shoulder collided with Nike’s on the way out, with too much force to be an accident. Nike opened his mouth to complain, but Finn had already disappeared out into the hall, and slammed the workshop door behind him.
“That door needed stress testing, anyway,” Nike said with a sarcastic roll of his eyes. Davin didn’t respond, just leaned forward and fixed his eyes on the door with an expectant arch of an eyebrow. When it didn’t move again, he flopped back into his seat, and Nike watched a smirk to match Finn’s creep across his face as he reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a long spool of thin, silvery wire.
It only took a moment for realization to kick in.
“Aw,” said Nike, grinning despite himself, “sending your brother on a wild goose chase for me? You really shouldn’t have.”
Davin snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he said, though his smirk didn’t waver. “He’s been in my way for the last hour. Only reason why it took long enough that you came in and caught us at all.”
“Huh. Maybe I should be thanking him, then.” Despite his feigned irritation, Nike stepped around the small maze of tables and up Davin’s side. His prosthetic was lain out on the table in front of him, currently under the duress of a thin razor that he was wielding in his good hand. Or at least, Nike was fairly certain that it was his prosthetic. The former lattice of haphazard beams and bars was gone, banished beneath a cobbled-together sheet of metal that what could almost pass for a forearm, and the various clamps and claws that usually took the place of a hand had been swapped out for a set of crude metal fingers that were currently curled into a tight fist against an equally crude palm. Squinting, Nike could see thin wires running from the fingertips down into the center of the forearm, where they were wrapped around something that looked suspiciously like guitar pegs.
“Something new,” Davin said, without looked up. His smirk had still not abated, and with a flush of annoyance, Nike realized it had grown wider. “You’re free to be impressed. No one else is here.”
“I’m impressed that you haven’t welded your fingers together,” Nike said smoothly, even as a strange flutter began in his stomach. The arm was crude, and cobbled together, and bound to break in enough salt air and sea, but still…. Still, it had taken considerably less time to turn from hardly functional to hardly noticeable at a glance. Nike felt the fluttering creep up into his chest, and it sent good sense scattering like leaves in the wind.
“Have you ever made anything that flies?”
The words were out before he could stop them. He felt his body go cold under a sudden sheen of sweat as Davin’s fingers paused and he looked up, brow furrowed
“Why would I have ever…” he started, and then paused so abruptly that Nike could feel it in his gut. Davin’s eyes, a flinty hazel brown in the shop’s low light, flicked unsubtly towards Nike’s back.
“No,” he said after a moment. “Have you?”
Nike had to bite down on the edge of his tongue to keep down the sudden flash of anger that tore through his gut. Competitive ribbing was one thing; insulting a line of Davin’s ancestors starting with his great great grandmother over a simple question would be quite another. He kept his eyes pointed firmly away, and the resulting silence answered the question with more clarity than he ever could.
Davin shifted in his seat, turning fully away from the prosthetic on the table.
“Why not?” he asked. The corner of his mouth twitched up, very faintly. “Are you scared?”
“No,” Nike snapped, tail flicking sharply to one side. The fluttering was harder now. “I’m busy, actually. I have things to do, and a guild membership to maintain, and -”
“Aye, of course, of course,” said Davin with a wave of his hand. He turned back to the hunk of metal in front of him that Nike was thinking very seriously about melting back into scrap. “And running a fucking ship doesn’t take any time at all. Any halfwit could do it!”
“A halfwit does,” Nike growled.
“Hey, now. No need to bring Alex into this. She’s a fine captain, when it suits her.” Nike growled again, but Davin’s smirk just grew. “In any case, you’ve actually stumbled your way into a point. It would take time to make. But by God’s green luck, I’m stuck on this rock for several weeks while my captain cozies up to your queen. And I’m not scared.”
Another spike of anger shot through Nike’s belly, but something in Davin’s tone stopped him from immediately kicking the chair from beneath him. There was challenge in his voice, of course, and his usual healthy dose of superiority, but squinting, Nike could just barely make out the tinge of something else beneath; something almost like a promise, with the same kind of sincere surety that came with someone who knew their craft well enough to make guarantees. Davin’s sidelong look said as much too, and Nike suddenly felt the fight go out of him like a smothered candle flame.
“I’ll have to come back here, of course,” Davin went on, turning back to his work with a one-shouldered shrug. “A ship’s a poor space to work, and Christ, but you’ve actually got something like real tools in here.”
Nike huffed on reflex, still feeling slightly to the left of himself. “Well, the door has apparently failed to keep you two out with the rest of the vermin anyway, so…”
“Vermin don’t charm locks. Finn does,” said Davin, with a smirk. “Otherwise, though, they’re one in the same. Speaking of, you’ll kindly fuck off now so I can finish before he gets back. I want to be a league away from here when he figures it out.”
“If his wit matches yours, I’d say you have a few hours at least,” Nike muttered, turning away from the table and trying his best to smother the little spot of hope burning in his chest.
#my writing#original characters#other people's ocs#oc crap#original fiction#davin#finn#i like to think this is after they've known each other for some time#because they're not immediately trying to actually fight each other#and the snark is taken as mostly good-humored#but ilu rufina i hope if it isn't perfect that it at least delights!
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FANFIC
“Full of Air” by Vered Gilad Friedman
Description: Mulder & Scully are being chased yet again… as they run, they encounter an unexpected object. (Mulder POV). Written for @txf-prompt-box challenge. Prompt: “A hot air balloon ride”.
Time frame: An unknown time in the middle of season 10.
Fanfic Category: Could it be… MSR?
Disclaimer: Don’t own these cuties but can’t resist playing with them. Promise to put everything away when I’m done… (I hope).
“Scullllllllyyyy!!!!” Mulder cried out to his partner and then continued his breathless panting as he tried to keep up with her. He was too old for this crap. What the hell was he thinking when he agreed to come back to the FBI? At least they would have given them some time to re-train and get back into shape, but noooo, they had to shove them right back into the action and now he was going to die from some form of asthma attack. He was certain that Mr. Bruckman didn’t have that in mind when he said autoerotic-asphyxiation. The closest thing to erotic thoughts were feelings revolving around how tight his suit felt against his crotch and butt at that very moment. How on Earth was he able to run so fast in a suit in the olden days? There was going to be some serious damage down there after this experience and the thought of that made him cringe.
“Scullllllyyyyyy!!!” Jeez, she was so fast, and on heels no less. He felt so lame at that moment. Years of staying at home, stuffing himself with sunflower seeds had taken their toll. Now he regretted not listening to Scully about assuming healthier eating habits. Not only did she keep to her healthy regime, she also made the time to go on jogs every couple of days. No wonder she was amazingly agile while he barely managed to stay three steps behind her. And to think that he was the one with the longer legs.
“Oh my God!” he heard her exclaim from the distance.
“What?!” he shouted as he kept on running through the shrubs. She was out of his line of site. That’s how far behind he’d gotten.
“Mulder! You are not going to believe this!”
Yeah Scully, why don’t you just keep me guessing being that I am so very much enjoying myself, he told her in his mind. He was too out of breath for actual talk by then.
He kept on going. Their pursuers were still far behind, but a quick glance behind him told him that they were catching up. Their high-powered flashlights seemed closer than before. He had to up his game if he was going to avoid capture.
At last he caught sight of Scully’s figure. Why had she stopped running? A small knot formed in his belly. Did something happen to her?
He made a dash for it, until he was finally right behind her. He was now so out of breath, he was unable to let out a single syllable. He just stood there, his head bowed down, his body partially folded on itself and his palms resting on his knees, trying to regain his equilibrium.
“Mulder. You were right!”
Of course she has to tell him this when he is unable to even respond. Typical. He still hadn’t a clue what she was talking about.
“Mulder?” He could hear the concern in her voice. “What’s wrong?”
“Out… of… breath…” he managed between pants.
She chuckled.
“Don’t… say… a word…” he warned her.
Another chuckle.
He rolled his eyes and finally returned to a normal standing position and then he caught sight of the object that astounded Scully just a couple of minutes earlier and his jaw dropped.
There, in the middle of the night a huge glowing flying saucer floated in midair.
“I thought you were taking me on another wild goose chase, Mulder, but you were right.”
Suddenly he could hear shouting in the distance. “Shit!” their pursuers were getting closer.
Mulder and Scully stared at each other as realization dawned on both of them. Then they burst into a super dash.
Running was slightly easier this time. They’d moved out of the forest and into a clearing. The only problem was, this would also apply for the group that was chasing them.
Scully was once again in the lead, running like a bat out of hell. He just had to somehow suck it and ignore the screaming of his muscles. He swore he was going back on a strict training regime when (if) they managed to get out of this mess.
All of a sudden he heard a rather loud thud accompanied by a cry from Scully. His heart skipped a beat. “Scullly!!!!”
“I’m OK!” she shot back. “I just collided with something.”
Somehow her attempt to assure him wasn’t really working. He upped his pace, unable to believe he actually had it in him and soon he was right beside her.
“Mulder…”
“What?” he was heavily panting again.
“I hate to be the one to burst this UFO bubble on you, but I think we’ve been had.” She wasn’t gloating, even though she could. He could tell she was trying to be gentle.
“What is it? What did you run into?” literally, he added in his mind.
“Well… I believe it’s a hot air balloon basket.”
At first her words didn’t register. Then he understood. He gazed up and sure thing, right above their heads he caught sight of the glowing flying saucer, only that now he could see the source of the glow. A large flame was blowing hot air into the saucer’s ‘belly’, keeping it afloat.
But he had no time to get pissed. Loud cries could be heard not too far in the distance. The people on their backs were now a lot closer. There was no way they would be able to outrun them now. He had to think fast.
“Scully! Get in!” he shouted as he climbed into the balloon’s basket.
“Mulder!!!” she shot back at him, her tone and stance telling him she thought he was crazy.
“NOW!” he ordered.
And lo and behold, she responded and soon after she’d joined him within the basket’s confines.
“I’ll toss the sandbags out and you can cut the tethers,” he kept on passing orders.
“With what exactly?” her tone aggravated.
He quickly dug into his coat and retrieved a pocket knife.
“You are such a boy scout, Mulder,” she told him as she grabbed the knife.
He quickly disposed of the sandbags as Scully cut them loose and they hadn’t a second to spare as shots were now being fired at their direction. Luckily the shooters were still not close enough as they began to rise.
He found the balloon’s control and as he twisted it, the flames above increased and with them the speed of the balloon’s ascent. He had no time to think about the direction the balloon was taking. His main goal was to gain as much distance between them and the crazy maniacs on the ground. Said maniacs were now right below them and shooting in their direction with every weapon possible. He prayed they were high enough and that those bastards would be terrible shots or else.
His prayers were answered. Finally they had gained enough altitude that he couldn’t hear the deranged group on the ground or their gun firing anymore.
All of the sudden he felt completely devoid of energy. He leaned against the basket and then he let himself slide slowly until he landed into a sitting position.
“Mulder!” Scully called out, “You OK?” She crouched beside him and gave his face a good look over in the meager light the propane flames cast on them.
“I’ve gotten too old for running in forests in the middle of the night,” he let out.
She moved to a sitting position and huddled close to him. “Your flying-saucer-chasing-days are over then? Will this be the last time we trespass on somebody’s private property?”
He snorted.
“Yeah. I thought as much.” She responded and Mulder knew there was a smile somewhere, lingering in the dark.
“God! My body’s killing me!” he revealed. “And please don’t tell me I told you so. I am going straight back to the running track once we get down.”
“Speaking of which,” she moved back to a standing position as she spoke, “How exactly are we going to get down?”
He pushed himself up and peered into the darkness that surrounded them. “I know how to operate the balloon. There’s really not much to it. The only catch is, people do not fly hot air balloons at night; too goddamn dangerous. There’s no telling what we might hit on the way.”
“Now you remember to tell me that?” She sounded more amused than annoyed.
He wasn’t kidding. This air trip of theirs was a possible disaster waiting to happen. “Well, it was either that or getting shot by a mob.”
“Neither are great choices.” She pointed out.
“Nope,” he told her as he stared into the black abyss and tried to make some sense of his surroundings.
He could hear rustling from her direction. “What are you doing?”
“Do you think A.D. Skinner will be awake this early in the morning?” She wondered.
“What’s the time?”
He saw the bright light of a cell phone shine as Scully eyeballed it. “It’s a bit over five in the morning.”
“Skinner’s definitely up.” The man was practically a living testament to marine self-discipline. There was no way of washing the soldier out of him.
Scully tapped the phone’s screen and then put it against her ear. After a minute, she let out a defeated sigh and disconnected. “There’s no reception here whatsoever and no internet. We’re practically stranded.”
“Well, the sun will be rising pretty soon. Let’s just hope we don’t collide with anything until then, and once there’s light we’ll land this thing,” he told her.
“And let’s say we do manage all of that, how do we go about explaining this to Skinner?”
Trust Scully to bring up sore points; only that since they’d returned to the bureau, Skinner had become much more like an additional X-Files member than their overbearing boss. He’d fully converted into a believer right after he (Mulder) was taken by those aliens, during those early days of Scully’s pregnancy with William. And now, it’s like their very good buddy is their boss and he’s just pretending to be pissed at them to please the party line when in truth he’s in the game with them all the way.
It’s kind of strange. Sometimes he’s not sure it’s even such a good thing. He needs somebody to restrain him at times. He knows he can go overboard and Scully, even though she does try to stop him on many occasions, most times she relents. It’s not because she’s not as strong-willed as he is. It’s more because she believes in him, and so the both of them plunge into danger together, and their only remaining safety net is no longer there.
Well, maybe it wasn’t all true. Lately a new safety net was forming. It was called ‘old age’ and Mulder hated the limits it held on him, and he wished he could cut loose, but the signs of wear and tear are just too evident.
“Should I take your silence as a good sign or a bad sign, Mulder?” Scully barged in on his reverie.
He sighed, feeling weary. “Skinner’s a teddy-bear, Scully, and besides, those people were running an illegal scam. Didn’t you see all those stands we passed by? Selling UFO merchandise? I betcha they were all in on it making a great number of pretty bucks from all those innocents who truly believed they were seeing a real UFO sighting.”
“I guess that takes care of Skinner but it’s not quite what you hoped for,” she said as she moved closer and leaned beside him against the basket’s side.
He drew in a deep breath. “No.”
“It’s not like this is your first UFO scam, Mulder, yet you sound so defeated. What’s really eating you up?”
He turned his head and his eyes met her deep blues. Of course they were mostly hidden by the night’s darkness but their glistening brought on by the burning flame from above made his heart dance. The same flame also enhanced the red tang of her hair, making it almost pop out amidst its black surroundings. She was so beautiful and she was all his, even though they didn’t consider themselves as a couple anymore. He knew without a speck of doubt that there was nobody else for her; or for him, for that matter.
“C'mon, Mulder,” she prodded, “spit it out.”
He offered her a jaded smile. “Did you ever wonder just how long we’d still be doing this, Scully?”
“I don’t know. We were out of this game for a long time. I’d sort of accepted that it was all over.”
“I know what you mean,” he continued, still deeply gazing into her eyes. “Back in the day when we were young—”
“Speak for yourself, Mulder. I’m still young.”
He couldn’t help but smile at her interjection and he was enthralled by the changes her expression took when she smiled back at him in that girly fashion of hers.
“Thanks for pointing that out to me Scully. I feel so much better now.”
“You’re welcome,” she teased.
“So anyway… back then I didn’t have time to think about how long we’d be doing this. All I wanted was to get to the truth, to unveil the mysteries and to get answers to all my questions. Nobody told me that some twenty plus years later I’d still either not have most of the answers or that the ones I did eventually figure out would be a load of bull like this tacky flying saucer/balloon we’re stuck in right now.”
“So what’s your point?” she asked.
“Not quite sure, I guess,” he admitted. “It’s a combination of sorts. We are both in our fifties. At this ripe age many agents switch to less physical positions. It’s to be expected. I don’t see myself chasing alien bounty hunters or super soldiers on foot, climbing fences or running like a maniac through God knows what and where till kingdom comes. Even after I’ll get back into shape, I am certain I won’t be able to re-live my golden boy days. In any other department, I’d probably be managing a team of investigators and training younger agents like Bill Patterson trained me. But in the X-Files…” he trailed off.
“What about the X-Files,” Scully picked up the conversation. “Do you want to have a team under you Mulder? Somebody to train so they’d follow in your footsteps?”
“That’s just it,” he told her. “I really don’t know. I do know that the two of us won’t be able to go on forever doing this. Today’s experience was ample proof of that. But we were gone from the X-Files for so many years and nobody took over. It’s like nobody cares and it seems as if the world moved on without us doing our thing and the world did quite well without us. I’m just wondering if anybody would even want to come and learn the trade.”
He could hear rustling as her hand made its way to his until it finally rested upon it. She part squeezed his palm; part massaged it as if she were trying to soothe him.
“I’m not quite sure the world did OK without us, Mulder. To me it seems the world just got lucky that somehow the sky didn’t fall on it while we were away from our posts.”
He let out a chuckle. “Dana Scully, you mean to say that the world basically revolves around us? That it will basically go into a standstill and the craziness will cease during the period we are too out of it to address it?” He gave her an obnoxious grin but then he felt something sharp poke his ribs and he let out a yelp. It was Scully’s elbow protesting on her behalf. “Hey!” he cried out. “No need to get all touchy on me now.”
“Well, that’s what snide comments will get you, Mulder.”
“It’s just that your presumption is somewhat far-fetched,” he told her. “Granted, it’s sort of true to a certain degree. Things have been uncannily quiet ever since we dropped off the face of the Earth, but to make it as if the world was just waiting for our return…”
“OK, Mulder, if you’re so smart, what’s your explanation for this? I mean, when we left the X-Files, super soldiers roamed the Earth and now there’s nary a super soldier in sight. And that conspiracy we were both fighting against was still alive and breathing during those day, but it seemed to drift into a major snooze while we were AWOL. But now that we’re back in the game, it’s all happening again… well, sans those super soldiers, but otherwise this whole crazy shit is alive and kicking. What exactly can you say about all of this?”
He didn’t really have an answer. It was weird; somehow it did feel like it all revolved around them. And what if it did? Would quitting the X-Files resolve the matter? And if they quit, what was he going to do? “Scully, what if we left again?”
“Mulder? You’re kidding me, right?”
Dawn was beginning to take hold of the world and Scully’s astounded expression became visible. Mulder adored her incredulous expressions with that tiny quirky pout of hers and her ruffled forehead.
“It’s just that if all of this is due to us and if working in the X-Files unit once more could possibly endanger you again… I’m not sure this old heart of mine could take any of this anymore.”
She offered him a compassionate squeeze of his hand and then she pulled in closer and tried to hug him with her short hands. “You know I’ll be OK, Mulder. I’m immortal after all,” she told him, her voice muffled as she spoke with her mouth against his chest.
He pulled his arms out of her embrace so that he could wrap them all around her. They stood there in silence as the sky color gradually transformed from dark grey to a murky bluish hue and slowly to purple and then pink, red and finally to bright orange as the sun made its appearance.
“Scully?”
“What?”
“If we would leave the X-Files to save the world and ourselves from inevitable doom, what do you think you’d do?”
“Well, it’s pretty obvious to me. I’d go back to being a doctor. Maybe I’d even return as a Quantico instructor.”
“Yeah. I thought as much.”
“Coming to think of it, you can get a teaching position in Quantico as well, Mulder.”
He snorted loudly. “Sure. I’ll be the instructor for the course ‘UFO sightings for dummies’.”
She laughed. “Hey, I’ll be teaching the infamous course 'A Grey’s Anatomy – everything you need to know about alien autopsies’.”
“I’m going to sit in the front row. I promise to drive you crazy with questions Professor Scully.”
An amazing smile lit up her face as she laughed at his antics, then she settled down and their eyes locked onto each other. As if in slow motion, their faces moved closer until their lips touched and they fell into a passionate kiss. The energy of the moment set an explosion of feelings both physical and emotional through his body and soul. He didn’t want it to end. All he wanted was to remain in the middle of nowhere, up above the world, with Scully.
All of a sudden he felt a strong vibrating sensation emanating from his butt. He was still so deeply immersed in the moment he was having with Scully, that the unexpected vibes made him jerk.
His movement startled Scully and her eyes widened with shock. “Huh?!” she blurted.
His mind quickly figured out the source of the tremor. It was his phone. They must have begun to lose altitude and they were back on the cell grid.
Reluctantly he pulled his right arm out of his embrace around Scully and then he fished the pulsating contraption out of his back pocket.
The smartphone’s screen had Skinner’s face plastered all over it and he showed it to Scully.
“Let me do the talking,” she suggested.
He didn’t argue as he handed his phone over to her.
She swiped the screen and put it against her ear. “It’s Scully, Sir.”
There was a loud rumble pouring out of the cell and into Scully’s ear. Mulder couldn’t make much of what Skinner was yelling about, aside from the words: 'fucking mess’, 'Mulder’ and 'UFO’. Scully tried to explain but the A.D. was definitely in a foul mood and all she could manage in between his tirade were a few single syllables. Finally she handed the phone to Mulder.
“It’s the 'Teddy-Bear'…” she whispered as Mulder put the cell to his ear.
Mulder braced himself for impact.
THE END
@txf-prompt-box @today-in-fic
#fanfic#fanfiction#xfiles#fox mulder#dana scully#hot air balloon#txf-prompt-box#challenge#txf box challenge - 22th-29 sep#msr#s10#todayinfic
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Heavy Rain Ch.6 (Shalaska/Katlaska) - Insomnidelic
AN: Wow. Life has me so shook right now. I’m sorry this took so long, but you wouldn’t believe the month I’ve had. Caution: things get a little angsty- but don’t worry. Its not over just yet.
“So then I threw his fuckin’ phone at him and peaced out.” Justin slurs before taking another lingering swig of Maker’s Mark. The bottle had somehow made its way into his hot little hands during his retelling of the day’s earlier events.
“Wait, you just left? C’mon, I know Sharon must have had something to say about it.” Adore attempts to pry more information out of the inebriated queen, knowing he was leaving holes in his story. He’d spent nearly an hour going over his lunch date with Katya and the run in with fans, but when it came to the confrontation with his ex, he glossed over a few details.
“Just a bunch of bullshit about me and Brian…” He trails off. His mind lingers to the older queen’s last words to him before leaving him and his ex in the hotel suite.
“Please, don’t…”
Don’t what? Don’t believe everything Aaron says? Easy enough. But Brian had admitted to it.
"You and Brian what?” Violet pipes up, glancing at Adore excitedly while awaiting Justin to spill the T. Neither of the younger queens ever expected that Alaska and Katya had anything going on behind closed doors, but the way Justin eluded to it now had them thinking otherwise.
"That we fucked. I mean, it’s probably true. I had a pretty intense dream about it…” He trails off once again, his mind wandering to the sexy memory of the two of them in bed together. If he wasn’t so angry at his “friend”, he’d probably be fucking Brian right now just to get over Aaron.
“Holy shit, are you serious? Tell us more!” Adore urges.
“No, no I hardly remember any of it.” He protests, throwing back the glass bottle and draining it of its contents. “And now I’m all out of juice.” He whines and slams the bottle back onto the counter.
The crowd cheers as lights begin to flicker on throughout the venue. As the backup generator kicks in, Violet’s familiar burlesque music fills the air, the track picking up where it would have left off had the set gone as planned.
“Fuck, I didn’t think the lights would come back on so soon. I drank too much! I don’t know if I can get up there and give them what they want.” Violet moans in response to the roaring crowd of bar patrons that clearly expected the show to go on now that power was restored.
“I got it!” Justin exclaims, pushing through the crowd before clambering onto the stage and immediately ripping his shirt off. The audience goes insane at the sight, every phone out and pointed toward the topless queen. He kicks off his shoes next without hesitation.
“Alaska, no! You just chugged half a bottle of whiskey. Fuck, take it easy man.” Adore reaches up to pull him down. Violet extends her arms to bat the other queen’s hands away.
“Aww, come on. He’s had a rough day, let him have a little fun.” She insists. More than part of her really just wanted to watch Justin strip.
He continues his dancing around the stage, camping it up a bit of course- his goofy facial expressions not matching his sexual movements. His pants were next to go; he unbuttons them and lets them sink to the floor, a cellphone he’d long forgotten was in his back pocket slides out to the back of the stage as he kicks his jeans off to the crowd of squealing fans. He drops to his knees and allows a few lucky audience members to rub his naked chest and underwear-clad lower half.
“Ok, that’s enough.” Adore pushes through to the edge of the stage. She had to stop this before it got out of hand. He didn’t know what he was getting himself into and the audience didn’t know what they were taking advantage of.
“C’mon, buddy. Let’s get you into some dry clothes and you can sleep this off in the back, huh?” She nods with a strained smile, reaching up to the half-naked man.
“Oh honey, I’m just getting started!” He croons before wiggling away and getting back to his feet. Without warning, he pulls his underwear down and begins to helicopter his dick with wild abandon. The mob goes nuts, not a camera in the entire venue was failing to record this glorious moment. Violet wraps her arms around Adore’s shoulders and gives her an ecstatic shake.
“Oh. My. God. I can’t tell if this is amazing or horrifying!” She yells over the thunderous cheers and applause from the audience, her mouth hanging wide open as she gaped at the sight before her. The stories about Alaska’s package certainly didn’t do it justice. Adore shakes her head and silently prays that this wouldn’t get back to Michelle.
Fat fucking chance.
~~
“God damn it!” Michelle huffs in aggravation.
“What? What’s going on?” Brian probes, looking back at her through the rearview mirror. She was making him drive while she navigated the car full of queens toward Justin’s location. The rain was hitting the windshield so hard that the wipers struggled to keep up. His vision of the road in front of him was extremely limited.
“My fucking phone died. We’re never going to find him.” She groans, burying her face in her palms. It had taken them nearly an hour to get to this point thanks to the continuously flooding streets and traffic jams. Just exiting the hotel parking garage had proven to be a real challenge.
“Alright, well let’s not panic. We have to be getting close. Let’s just think about which one of these places he could have gone into.” Brian tries his best to calm Michelle as he pulls over to park along the side of the road, straining to make out the names of the buildings lining the strip.
“Useless.” Aaron mutters from the passenger seat. He sat with his arms cross against his chest and had hardly said anything since they left the hotel.
“Instead of being pessimistic, you could try helping us.” Brian fumes, frustrated with Aaron’s demeanor.
“He doesn’t want to be found. He left for a reason and he doesn’t want to see either of us again so I don’t know why we’re wasting our time out here. I should have just booked it back to Pittsburgh instead of joining you on this goose chase… ” Aaron trails off. He’d gone back and forth between wanting to find Justin and wanting to escape. He knew that it wouldn’t matter either way, Justin would still hate him for what he did.
“Don’t pull that bullshit with me, Aaron. I know you still care about him and you owe it to him to show it.” Brian says sternly, locking eyes with the queen next to him.
“Don’t ever accuse me of not caring. Justin was the love of my life. But what’s done is done.” He defends himself. “He only acts like a baby because you two treat him like one. He’s a grown man. He can take care of himself. I say we just stay here and wait for this fucking storm to blow over.” He finishes before tightening his arms across his chest and leaning back in his seat.
“Fuck that.” Brian spits, ripping the keys out of the ignition and throwing them at a silent Michelle in the back seat before exiting the car.
“Katya, no! We need to stick together!” She shouts, reaching out to him. He’s drenched from head to toe in a matter of seconds, turning to respond to the oldest queen.
“I can’t just sit here! I know he’s okay… but I need to find him, for me!” He shouts over the sound of the pouring rain before slamming the door and making his way on foot in the direction they had been driving. As he rounds the corner, he bumps into another wet figure heading the opposite way.
“Oh, sorry man. Wait, Katya?! I can’t believe I’ve met this many Ru girls in one day!” The young man squeals excitedly. Brian sighs in disbelief that he could be recognized even while soaking wet.
Wait. Ru girls?
“What did you say? Something about other Ru girls?” He presses, urging the fan to elaborate.
“Yeah! Adore and Violet had a gig going on at Sparky’s. I was just there but the power went out and I didn’t want to be stranded so I went ahead and left ‘cuz I live so close, you know? Kind of annoyed with myself for leaving. I just got a text from my Judy back at the bar that Alaska showed up and I’ve wanted to meet her since-“ He’s cut off from his rambling as Brian reaches across to grasp his shoulders, his eyes wide with an almost feral quality.
“Where is this bar?” He asks coldly, his eyes boring into the startled twink’s.
“R-right down there, a few blocks.” The boy stutters nervously, pointing over his shoulder.
Brian pushes past him without another word and continues his brisk walk in the direction his new little friend had sent him in. He starts to run as the bar comes into view, its once dark windows now lit up as he neared. The power must have been restored. He pulls open the door without hesitation and is met with a crowd of people stuffed like sardines in the small venue. More enter behind him, excited whispers of “Alaska” on their lips. Even during a tropical storm, the Queen of Snakes drew an impressive audience. The familiar burlesque music of a certain queen fills the air, but Brian is stunned as Justin makes his way onto the stage, quickly ridding himself of his wet t-shirt. He panics slightly and keeps his head down while making his way toward the back of the venue to get better access to the aforementioned queen.
He glances back up as the crowd cheers with joy, only to see Justin’s swinging cock out for the audience to gawk at. He’s filled with anger and dread. Thunderfuck had obviously been hitting the bottle. He scans the room and quickly finds Adore and Violet at the edge of the stage, neither queen making a move to stop what was happening before them. He makes strides to confront them, bumping into one of the bar goers, causing her to spill her drink on herself and the person in front of her.
“Hey, watch where the fuck- Katya?!” She shouts excitedly, successfully garnering the attention of the surrounding audience members.
“Shit! It’s Katya. She’s probably here for Michelle! We need to get him off the stage now- grab his shit!” Adore whisper’s harshly to Violet.
She picks up his discarded pants off the floor as Violet snatches his damp t-shirt from the hands of a fan. The two make their way on stage, Violet pulling Justin aside and wrapping his lower half with his shirt. Adore grabs a microphone off a stand to address the crowd.
“Cut the music! Alright guys, that’s all for tonight. Help yourself to the open bar!” She exclaims, rolling her eyes as the crowd boos in disappointment with the abrupt ending to Alaska’s strip tease. Justin wiggles himself out of Violet’s arms and makes his way over to Adore, shoving her slightly and pulling the microphone from her grip.
“How’s everyone doing tonight?” He slurs with a goofy grin across his face. “The show’s not over till the sun comes up, who’s with me?!” He screams, the crowd roaring in agreement.
“Gimme your drink, would ya? Lasky need’s her juice.” He asks a fan in the front row, who in turn happily hands over her full beer to the naked queen on stage.
Adore reaches over his shoulder as he’s bent over in an attempt to take the microphone back, but the drunk man easily nudges her away with his elbow, nearly knocking her on her ass. It was almost as if whiskey gave Justin superhuman strength. He snaps his head back up and scans the crowd, his eyes locking on Brian who continued to edge his way along the bar toward the stage, brushing off every fan that attempted to come up to him.
“Well, looky-here. It’s our old pal, Katya!” He belches into the microphone, pointing toward the Russian queen. The audience cheers, happily surprised with the appearance of yet another Ru girl. Brian freezes and looks to Justin, pleading with his eyes.
Please don’t say anything stupid.
“Me and Katya fucked, you know? I don’t remember much of it ‘cuz I hit my head.” Justin points with his beer bottle to the soggy bandages hanging haphazardly across his forehead. “But from what I recall, his dick was huuuuuge!” He finishes with a giggle as the crowd reacts with whistles and laughter, many unsure if Alaska was joking or not.
Brian remained frozen in place and gawks toward the stage in disbelief at what the naked queen had just revealed to a crowd of over a hundred people. He’s startled as a heavy hand is laid on his shoulder and whips his head around to come face to face with an infuriated Aaron.
“What the fuck is going on here?” He seethes.
“What- how did you-?” Brian stammers, astonished to see the blonde queen.
“I followed you, duh.” Aaron says, rolling his eyes.
“I thought you were giving up?” Brian asks, shaking Aaron’s hand off his shoulder.
“It’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind.” Aaron replies in his Caitlyn Jenner impression.
“Really? Jokes at a time like this? Help me get to the edge of the stage; we need to get him down since Adore and Violet obviously aren’t having any luck.” Brian grasps the queen’s arm and drags him along the wall.
“Ohohoooo, this just keeps getting better and better! Look everybody! It’s my ghoul-friend, Sharon Needles!” Justin screams into the microphone, calling the audience’s attention to the blonde, who’d until then gone successfully unnoticed. They roar excitedly for the Queen of Halloween.
“Well, ex ghoul-friend. We’ve been apart for four years now, can you believe it?” He sighs sorrowfully, eliciting an “aww” from the crowd at the subtle tone of heartbreak in his voice. “I know, I can’t either. Especially since he had his tongue shoved down my throat last night.” He chuckles before throwing back his beer, draining it impressively in just a few gulps.
Aaron goes rigid, gaping at Justin in total shock. The naked queen’s laughter quickly subsides. He turns his empty beer bottle over in his palm a few times before reeling his arm back and chucking it in Aaron’s direction. Luckily, his aim was off due to his drunkenness and the bottle went crashing into the wall behind his former lover.
"Ok, we’re not doing this shit again!” Aaron yells, finally losing his temper. He wasn’t going to allow himself to be the target of any more projectiles thrown by his infuriated ex.
Without hesitation, he runs full force toward the stage, shoving past the crowd and jumping onto the platform before tackling Justin and pinning him to the floor with his arms and legs. Justin’s microphone rolls out from his palm toward the edge of the stage. The audience gasps in horror as the scene unfolds.
“Get off me!” Justin shouts, struggling to free himself from the weight of his ex.
“No! Not until you promise to shut your mouth and get off the stage- peacefully!” Aaron replies, tightening his grip on the wiggling queen beneath him.
“Why would I do that? I have a lot more to say. I don’t like keeping secrets like you!” Justin spits back angrily, reaching desperately for the microphone just over a foot away. Aaron swings his arm to bat it over the edge.
“Are you fucking crazy!? You’re really starting to piss me off!” Aaron whispers coldly, bringing his face closer to Justin’s, eyes ablaze with fury. He couldn’t believe how far gone he was.
“Oh, am I? Well what are you going to do about it, baby? Hit me? Go ahead, hit me! I know you want to! Just like you did that night- that night when you…” Justin trails off, his eyes brimming with tears as a memory comes flooding back to him.
He laid bleeding across from Aaron on the living room floor. Broken glass littered the carpet, his eyes drifting to the shallow holes in the wall where missed punches had landed. It rarely ever got physical between the two of them, but alcohol had the power to escalate any argument. He grazes his fingertips along his bruised ribs. Aaron had won this round. Though he’d gotten a few good swipes in, the older man had more experience with his fists. He struggles to keep his eyes open, craning his neck to face his lover.
“I can’t do this anymore.” He finally croaks after a prolonged moment of silence. Aaron slowly turns to face him, blood dribbling from his nose onto the dirty carpet.
“Neither can I.” Aaron sighs, silent tears rolling down his cheek has he caressed his bruising knuckles.
“What are you even saying?” Aaron demands, snapping Justin out of the haze of his memory.
“That night you beat the shit out of me!” Justin roars, pulling his knees up to Aaron’s chest and shoving him off with all the strength he could muster.
The two queens pull themselves up on their feet without breaking eye contact. Justin wipes away the tears that rolled uncontrollably down his face. He couldn’t stand it. He was engulfed with rage toward the man standing just inches before him. Without thinking, he swings his fist around to collide with Aaron’s cheekbone, an audible crack reverberating throughout the venue as the crowd looked on in stunned silence before collectively gasping in horror.
The rational part of Aaron told himself to brush it off and walk away.
But the little, weird gay boy inside of him that relied on his fists to survive in rural Iowa wouldn’t take this laying down.
One swing sends Justin flying back to the floor. Suddenly he was on top of him once again, his knuckles colliding with the side of his head. He saw red, unable to control his own movements. Another swing. Another. Justin brings his arms up to protect his face but a good amount of damage was already done.
Suddenly Brian was between the two of them. With strength that seemed impossible for a man his size, he grips Aaron by the shoulders and hurls him to the back of the stage.
“Enough!!” He exclaims. The crowd had broken out in full blown hysterics at this point. Some continued to record the scene on their phones while others looked for any way out that they could find. Adore runs over to Justin and struggles to pull him up off the floor.
“Fuck! Violet, help me!” She screams over her shoulder, snapping the young queen out of her own stunned stupor. She runs over to assist Adore in dragging Justin behind a velvet curtain on the right side of the stage.
Aaron remains on his back at the opposite end of the stage, his palms digging into his eye sockets. Dread washes over him at the realization of what just happened. He wanted nothing more than to be sucked into a black hole at this very moment. There was no going back from this. He mentally cursed himself for his foolishness. He’s broken out of his self-loathing from the sound of vibrations near his head. He frees his eyes from his palms to look over, a cell phone coming into view. He was sure that he’d seen its red case somewhere before, his suspicions confirmed as his eyes narrow in on the hammer and sickle symbol emblazoned on the back. He reaches over to grasp it, turning it over in his palm to view the caller ID before swiping to answer.
“Hey mama.” He croaks into the cell.
“Sharon? You found Alaska!” Michelle’s voice exclaims on the other end of the line.
“What makes you say that?” Aaron inquires, propping himself up against the back wall before pulling out his cigarettes from his pocket. He lights one up, not giving a care about the “No Smoking” sign right above him. The entire bar had gone to shit anyway. He laughs bitterly at the total chaos displayed before him. The crowd had broken into a complete frenzy.
“Well Alaska had Katya’s phone and here you are answering Katya’s phone, so cut the bullshit and tell me where you are.” Michelle replies sternly, nowhere near in the mood to play games.
“I thought your phone was dead.” Aaron says in a pathetic attempt to change the subject. He takes another drag from his cigarette and his eyes drift over across the stage to the gaggle of queens behind the curtain. Adore hovers over Justin and examines the damage done to his face. Violet sits next to him, rubbing his back while Brian stands at his side. Justin’s eyes were pleading with Adore as he said something that Aaron couldn’t quite make out by reading lips.
“It was- until I remembered that I had a car charger. Now tell me where you are before I lose my shit.” Michelle responds, her voice laced with ice.
Aaron continues to gaze at the group of queens. Justin stands and Adore looks to Violet, the two nodding at one another before each giving a glance back to Aaron. The last thing he sees is Brian stepping forward to take Justin’s hand into his own before Violet shifts to stand in his line of vision. He turns his attention back to his unpleasant phone conversation.
“Sparky’s.” He says before dropping the call.
The rain had shockingly slowed to a drizzle and many of the bar patrons took advantage of the suddenly clearer weather to make their escape from the hellish venue. His smoke dangles from his lips as he looks down at the phone in his lap. He swipes the screen once more, relieved that it didn’t have a password. He’s caught off guard when he comes into view of the home screen’s wallpaper.
Katya is sitting on Alaska’s lap. The photo was obviously a few years old considering that the two queens’ styles had evolved since it was taken. Something about it caused a smile to tug at the corner of Aaron’s lips. Maybe it was Alaska’s goofy grin or even how comfortable Katya looked on her lap. He shifts his eyes back across the stage to find Brian standing alone now, his cheeks stained with tears.
No one wins.
A wave of exhaustion washes over his entire body. The past two days had sucked what ever soul he had left clear out of him. He opens Safari and searches the number for LAX. His phone call is brief. It was just his luck that a delayed flight to Pittsburgh had a seat available and would leave in a little over an hour if the weather permitted.
He books the ticket.
He snuffs out his cigarette and pulls himself up to make his way over to Brian, who remained standing alone behind the velvet curtain.
“I’m sorry.” He murmurs hesitantly to the Russian queen.
“For?” Brian asks quietly, not quite meeting the other man’s eyes.
“For ever doubting that you cared about him.” Aaron replies, handing the cellphone back to Brian. He looks down at it in his palm, a single tear falling and splattering on the glass.
“You were right. He doesn’t want anything to do with me.” Brian sighs and bites his lip, his voice shrouded with pain. Aaron leans in to grip his shoulder.
“If I’ve learned anything after this whole situation, it’s that I’m wrong. A lot.” Aaron whispers, looking into his eyes. “Don’t give up… but give it some time. I’m going home now. I suggest you do the same.” He finishes, patting Brian on the back before brushing past him to make his exit.
“Home?” Brian calls after him.
“Yeah. To my fiancé. My heart… Home is where the heart is, you know?” Aaron says over his shoulder. He didn’t care if he was making any sense or not. He was tired and wanted nothing more than to crawl into his own bed and sleep this off the best he could.
Brian stands at the center of the stage, watching as Aaron leaves. He shifts his gaze back to his phone, his eyes fixated on his home screen wallpaper.
How can I go home if my heart doesn’t want me?
~~
"Just tell me what happened, baby. I want to hear it from you.” Michelle coos quietly to Justin. They sat next to each other on the couch in the back lounge of the bar. He was wrapped in an old blanket Violet found in one of the dressing rooms.
Adore had explained for the most part that he’d gotten into a fight with someone at the bar. It wasn’t a total lie. Justin asked her not to mention that it was with Aaron.
The four queens hid behind the heavy curtain as Adore wipes away at the blood pooling around Justin’s nostrils and bottom lip.
“Just say it was some random. Please? I feel so stupid. It’s all my fault. I was pushing his buttons.” Justin pleads to Adore softly. A few punches to the face had really sobered him up. He was beginning to feel more than a little embarrassed of how far he took things.
Adore and Violet look to one another before nodding an agreement. They knew it would get back to Michelle eventually that Aaron was involved, but snitching wasn’t their style. However, Brian felt differently.
“I think you should tell her the truth.” He says, stepping forward to take Justin’s hand into his own. The younger queen lets his hand go limp in his grip before pulling away from him.
“What do you know about telling the truth?” He sneers, pushing past Brian.
“Justin, wait…” Brian follows after him.
“No. You didn’t go after me the first time. Don’t start now.” Justin says over his shoulder. He turns away quickly but doesn’t fail to catch a glimpse of heartbreak behind Brian’s eyes. He instantly regrets his words.
But it was too late.
“It’s just like Adore said. I swear.” Justin murmurs, putting his head to Michelle’s shoulder to keep her from looking into his eyes. She could always tell when he was lying.
“I just want to go home. I know that’s not with Aaron now… but I’m ok with that.” He continues with a whisper.
Michelle was still unsure if it was wise to take Justin back to his house so soon after the accident, but reluctantly agrees. Out of all of her “kids”, she had the hardest time saying no to him.
If home was where he wanted to go, then that’s where she would take him.
~~~
Michelle unlocks the door to Justin’s house before pushing it open, allowing him to enter first. It was a stark change to the crappy one bedroom he remembered owning the first time he’d lived in LA after college. The spacious two story was decorated unlike anything he imagined, but he felt that it suited him perfectly.
“Why don’t you grab a shower while I make you something to eat?” Michelle asks softly, nudging Justin gingerly toward the hall leading to his bedroom. He nods without a word and meanders slowly down the corridor.
His bedroom door was open, but the one across the hall from it was ajar, peeking his attention. He tightens his blanket around his shoulders before pushing it open to take a look inside.
He flips on a light switch, a wall of drawings coming into view first. In front of it was a desk littered but more drawings, papers, and notebooks.
This must be my office.
He steps further into the small space, taking in his surroundings. A glimmer catches the corner of his eye. He turns to find a glass case lining the adjacent wall. Inside was a jewel encrusted crown with an equally flashy scepter along-side it. For the first time since that morning, he smiles widely. His grand win was all so real to him now.
He turns his attention back to his drawings on the wall, many of which he recognized from years ago in his college days. He chuckled, surprised at himself that he was able to keep up with them with how disorganized he tended to be. Most of them were of Alaska of course, in all her Glamazonion glory. But a few were of another queen…
His eyes narrow in on a portrait of non-other than Sharon Needles. Her signature dimpled chin was a dead giveaway. He scanned the wall, surprised that more than a few of his art pieces were of Sharon and Alaska together, the dates at the bottom corners of the page spanning anywhere between 2010 to just a few weeks prior to now.
He shifts his gaze to opposite wall. It was lined with large portraits of queens from seasons passed. The largest photo, aside from his own, was also of Sharon. He leaned in to read the inscription stenciled below it.
“For inspiration.” It read.
He turns to graze over the contents of his desk. He recognizes his journals and various sketch books. A black photo album catches his eye under a stack of documents. He brushes the papers off and opens the book to a random page.
The picture was obviously from Halloween. Alaska was dressed as a cat and Sharon as Lady Dracula. Justin chuckles to himself at how basic his costume was compared to Sharon’s. She’d always be one to go over the top for Halloween while he opted for the minimal. He flips the photo over, a date scribbled in black ink at the bottom corner.
10-31-15 (Brighton, UK Halloween tour)
A tour with Sharon two years after breaking up?
He flips a few more pages. This time the photo was of the two of them in what looked like a meet and greet set up. Sharon had obviously said something to make Alaska cackle, her mouth in a wide open smile and her eyes crinkling at the corners. Sharon always made her laugh harder than anyone else on the planet. He flips it over for a date.
2-17-17 (SOBE Houston)
Just a few months ago…
He closes the book carefully, shaking his head as a smile crept onto his lips.
He and Aaron were friends.
“You doing ok in there?” Michelle hollers from the kitchen, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“Yeah. I’m alright.” He responds, quickly exiting his office and running across the hall to his bedroom. He shuffles into his bathroom and throws his blanket off before peeling his damp bandages off his head and hopping into the shower. The hot water cascades along his body and he allows all of his sorrow and pain from the day to wash down the drain along with the grit and grime.
He steps out and wraps a towel around his waist and goes into the bedroom for a change of clothes. A large black duffle and small purple bag next to it at the foot of his bed grabs his attention. He unzips the larger one first to find his drag pads and other undergarments before tossing it aside and reaching for the second. He shakes out its contents onto the bed, various makeup products and jewelry tumbling out. With a final shake, a black rectangle comes plopping onto the mattress. He picks up the device and taps the screen, cursing mentally as his apparent phone was password protected, but takes a crack at it. He unlocks it on the first try.
Who could forget Cerrone’s birthday?
As expected, a few missed calls and messages from mom and Cory. Another few from his management team and friends. He was happy to see that he still worked and kept in touch with the same people all these years. He scrolls through his conversations before hitting a few that had already been read.
Katya being the most recent.
K: Tonight?
A: When everyone goes out to dinner after rehearsal.
K: What if I’m hungry after rehearsal?
A: Eat me.
K: My favorite meal.
Justin flushes with embarrassment over the corny sexts. He can’t stop the smile that spreads across his face. He scrolls further to read through older messages.
K: What are you doing tonight after the show?
A: Probably just heading back to the hotel and ordering room service. Care to join? :)
K: Absolutely.
“Stop it!” Justin squeals, desperately trying to escape Brian’s fingers. The older queen had been attempting to tickle him throughout the night just to hear his panicked laughter.
“Ok, ok.” Brian chuckles, giving Justin room to breathe.
They’d smoked a blunt and gorged on desserts from the hotel kitchen before settling comfortably beside each other on the bed to watch Golden Girls re-runs. This wasn’t a new occurrence; they’ve hung out in hotel rooms to wind down after a show numerous times before. But something about tonight felt different. It was the first one on one interaction between the two of them since All Stars. Perhaps there was a hint of sexual tension in the air, or at least Brian was imagining so.
He decides to put his theory to the test.
He reaches over to Justin- who flinches and scoots away in response, afraid that he was about to be tickled again.
“No, no. I swear I won’t. Come back.” Brian assures with a laugh, wrapping his arms around Justin’s waste to pull him close, their hips now flush against one another. Justin’s giggles falter and his eyes drift to Brian’s lips, now just inches away.
“This is nice.” Brian whispers hotly, a smirk gracing his features. He brushes his fingers along Justin’s spine, the younger man stifling a shiver from his touch.
“Yeah, it is.” Justin murmurs, leaning in to close the gap between their lips.
The kiss was warm and inviting. There was no sense of urgency behind it. It was passionate, yet gentle and sweet. They could have laid there for eternity just kissing. It was almost as if time stopped for this very moment.
Twenty minutes later they were screwing each other’s brains out.
Justin floats back to the surface from his lustful memory. It was amazing what could be recovered just by reading a few simple texts. He was starting to believe that maybe his relationship with Brian wasn’t purely sexual. There was more to it than he ever imagined. A deeper connection. He taps on Katya’s name in his messages to pull up her contact information.
He remembered having Brian’s cell in his pocket at the bar, but had lost track of it by the time he was on stage.
What are the odds that it made its way back into Brian’s hands?
He carefully shuts and locks his bedroom door and returns to sit on his bed before pressing the call button. It rings endlessly. He pretty much gives up on anyone answering and moves to end the call.
Until suddenly.
“Hello?”
#alaska thunderfuck#katya zamolodchikova#sharon needles#katlaska#angst#tw blood#tw violence#insomnidelic#rpdr fanfiction#heavy rain#canon compliant
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