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toomanyrobins2 · 4 years ago

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Those Four Words Pt. 1

Summary: an escalating fight between Jason and his girlfriend leads to a tense two weeks in Wayne Manor

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: language, mentions of sex and excessive drinking, mentions of character death

masterlist // next part

Jason Todd was in a terrible mood, having just got into an argument with Bruce. He decided to go up to his girlfriend’s studio to get away. She had been hard at work the past couple of days and he was getting needy. He came up behind her on the floor and pulled her into his lap. She tried to wiggle out of his arms. “Jay, I'm trying to do something right now.

He tried to snuggle closer to his girlfriend, “I deserve some of your time too.

“Deserve? You’re especially demanding today. What did you do?” Jason scoffed and pulled away. “What has crawled up your ass?”

“You did.”

She managed to escape and turned to look at her boyfriend, “I did? Huh, I think I would’ve remembered such a disgusting journey into your body.

“Dammit, Y/N! Enough with the sarcasm! You know what I’m saying.”

She sighed at Jason’s attitude, “I don’t understand what you’re doing right now, but you are starting a fight just for the sake of an argument. I’m sorry, but I can’t give you what you want right now.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” Jason was standing over his girlfriend, his whole body tense, “From any of you.”

“Why are you being like this? What happened?”

“What? You thought the minute we started dating all of our problems would magically disappear? Are you really that naive?”

Y/N put her brushes down and stood. She tried to walk closer, but he matched each step, moving away from her. “Jason, where the hell is this coming from? I thought we had got past this. Even you and Bruce are in a better place.”

“You think I'll ever forget you abandoned me. You all did!”

“Abandon you! What have you been smoking? We thought you died!”

“You replaced me!”

Now, Y/N was angry too and it was rare that anyone saw her this way. She was deadly calm, but the fire was roaring in her eyes, “I did not replace you.”

“That’s right, you were too busy whoring yourself around Gotham to even think about me.”

“That is not fair and you know it. I mourned you. We all mourned your arrogant ass. I never stopped missing you.”

“I saw the articles, Y/N! Don’t pretend you were mourning me. You were too busy whoring yourself around Gotham.”

Her mind went back to three years ago. Jason had died in an explosion set up by the Joker. She was sixteen and her best friend had died, and she hadn’t handled it well. What started as a way to get out of the house with friends, had led to this wild, secret life. Y/N had snuck out at night and used Bruce’s name to get into clubs. She drank anything she could get her hands on and had gone home with multiple men, trying to forget her pain. Once, Bruce had found out, her world had imploded. He sent her away and finally got her the help she should have received when her parents had passed. The only reason Y/N had moved back to the manor was that Jason had been found. She couldn’t believe that he was trying to use her moments of weakness against her, “How dare you throw that back on me. I was just trying to numb the pain. It wasn’t like I was celebrating the fact that you were gone.”

“Yeah, it really looked like you missed me.”

“God Dammit, Jay!” she stamped her foot, knowing it was childish, “If you would just listen to me!”

“Oh fuck off, Y/N! If I had known I was ever going to be stuck with you and your nagging, I wouldn’t have come back.”

“I wish you hadn’t!” The minute the words left Y/N’s mouth, she gasped and slapped her hands over her mouth. Jason’s emotionless mask slammed into place, and suddenly he was as blank as the day Bruce had found him. He turned to walk out and Y/N chased after him, “Jay, wait! I’m sorry!” He jumped onto his motorcycle and was out the door before she could stop him. She slammed her fist into the wall and cursed in frustration and pain. No one would see either of them for the rest of the day. Y/N stayed in her studio, wondering how they got to the point of shouting such hurtful things at each other.

The next day, they had both shown up for Friday night dinner, as was expected of them. Neither spoke, and the tension was too thick to be cut with a knife. Y/N had tried to pull him aside and apologize after dinner, but he had shot her with a cutting glare and stalked away. The other could tell that something had happened, but no one had the details. Tim wandered into the library after patrol that night, to find her in a chair tucked into the corner. “What are you doing here (Y/N/N)? Isn’t it a movie night with Todd?” He noted the tear tracks down her face but knew she hated showing weakness, so he said nothing about them.

“I wasn’t feeling up to it, so I canceled. I think I’ll head to bed now. Night, Timmy.” Y/N went to her room and cried herself to sleep, the guilt overwhelming her as she played the argument over in her head. If only she had just taken a break, maybe the whole situation could have been avoided. She woke up multiple times in the night, crying out Jason’s name after seeing him and the Joker over and over again. Finally, around 3 in the morning, she gave up on sleep and went to the kitchen to pour herself coffee. She decided to keep busy and started making breakfast for the family.

Alfred was the first to appear in the morning, as usual. Y/N tried to pretend that everything was normal, but nothing could be hidden from the family’s butler. He noted the dark circles under her eyes and the tremors in her hands from over-caffeination. The boys slowly started to emerge, and Alfred started to bring out all the food she had made. She made two plates out of habit and headed for the dining room. Y/N started to hand Jason his breakfast as she had every morning for a year, but suddenly she remembered and pulled her hand away. Jason didn’t even bother to look at her, and her heart clenched. She placed the plate on the table and walked back into the kitchen. “Sorry, Alfred, I’m not hungry. I think I’ll go paint.” She placed the plate she had made for herself on the counter and left.

Y/N’s studio had been a safe space since she had first moved into the manor. She had hidden away when she first arrived at Wayne Manor, unused to such an active family. Bruce had called workers to the manor and redid the room when she had told him she liked art. Now, after years of work, canvasses filled the room on all sides. Some paintings, others photos, she had accumulated in the three years. They hung on the walls and were laid across the floor. She flooded the room with Swan Lake, her sad music, and started to mix her colors. The music she played had become an easy way for the others to discern her moods since she hadn’t spoken to anyone except Fallon, Bruce’s wife, when she first came. Bruce and Dick had installed a speaker system in her studio to drown out the noise when she was overwhelmed, and everyone in the Manor could hear it if she turned it on loud enough. When the first notes hit their ears, all eyes in the dining room turned to Jason. He refused to look up and make eye contact, instead, he stared at the breakfast that had been abandoned on the table. Once everyone had averted their gaze, he pushed away from the table and disappeared.

This led to one of the most uncomfortable weeks in the Manor ever. Y/N barely left her studio and no one saw Jason for three days before he returned. When he did, he started to act as if nothing had happened. The music had eventually stopped playing altogether, so they had no idea what kind of mood she was in. Finally, Damian was the one to gather everyone else together, “Y/N/N has not come out of her studio in a week. Since Buckethead has just decided to pretend nothing has happened. We need to fix this.”

Bruce spoke up first, “Jason and Y/N are both adults. They are both being immature, and it will eventually work itself out.

“How can we fix this when we don’t even know what happened?” Tim looked up from his laptop, “I’ve been checking in on Y/N on the cameras. All she does is paint, and the most she’s slept in days is when she falls asleep accidentally. That never lasts long, and she cries. A lot.”

“Why did Fallon have to leave! We need to fix this, or the family vacation is going to be the worst!” Dick collapsed on the couch. Fallon had finally convinced Bruce that the family needed a vacation, but two weeks before they were supposed to leave, her sister had had a baby. She decided to go help her out and just meet them at the resort. They now had a week left, and it was not looking good. No one wanted to bother their mother since she very rarely took time for herself and was enjoying time with her family. They decided Alfred would be the one to try and convince Y/N to leave the studio at least and eat something.

He appeared in the doorway and watched silently as Y/N worked on a large canvas. He walked over and saw that it was a portrait of the family. “This is beautiful, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Thank you, Alfred,” her voice was hoarse from disuse.

“What is the plan for this one?” Alfred sat down next to her on the floor.

“Everyone hates photos, but Fallon wanted a family portrait for the sitting room. Since no one can sit still long enough I decided to paint one and give it to her for her birthday,” she slowly sucked in a breath, “Plus they only have the old one, and J--some people-- are missing from it.” Tears started to well up again in her eyes. Alfred wrapped an arm around Y/N and just sat with her for a moment.

“I’ve kicked the boys out of the kitchen. Do you think you could come down and eat something? For me?” She only nodded and they both stood. Y/N sat on a stool and silently ate the soup Alfred had laid out for her. She barely tasted anything, and she was starting to feel dizzy. Her vision started to blur, and the next thing she knew, she was waking up on the floor and had five heads floating above her.

“Hi, guys. Thought the floor looked lonely.” She tried to sit up but was cut off.

“That is it,” Bruce spoke firmly, “You are going to bed, and you are sleeping. I thought you were mature enough to deal with this but I see I was wrong.” He picked Y/N up and noticed she had lost weight. He carried her up the stairs and before he had reached her bedroom, she was already asleep again. Bruce turned to the boys. “At least one of you is staying in here with her and making sure she sleeps.”

Tim volunteered for the first shift and settled into her desk with his laptop. Y/N had barely been asleep an hour before she woke up from a nightmare of Jason dying. She shot up and shouted out his name, before bursting into tears. Tim -- being the awkward person he is -- was ill-prepared to deal with the crying Y/N. The only solution he could think of was to climb into bed with her and pull up a movie. She slowly fell asleep again and clung to Tim like a starfish. When Dick came to relieve Tim and saw that he was unable to leave, he climbed into bed with the duo. Anytime Y/N would start to become distressed, they would calm her down. Eventually, Damian and Titus joined the cuddle pile, the former somewhat reluctantly, grumbling about how he was only doing this for Y/N. Little did the Bat-Family know, Alfred had called Fallon and told her about the situation and she had rushed home.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd #batfam #batfam imagine #batfam x reader #tim drake imagine #dick grayson imagine #bruce wayne imagine #damian wayne imagine #batfamily #toomanyrobins #red hood #red hood imagine #red hood x reader

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jinmukangwrites · 4 years ago

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Day 5 (6-17): Aged-up | Mother and son | Brothers

Warnings: near death experiences, drowning, canon typical violence, kidnapping

Note: I felt like I've written a lot of Dick and Damian bonding this week... So I'm switching it out with Jason. I had other things I wanted to write for this prompt, but it got too late at night to write something long. Enjoy this short, hurt/comfort Jason and Damian bonding instead <3

-o-o-o-o-

Damian's only been captured for a few hours... and already he feels more miserable than he has in a long time.

None other than the Penguin stands before him, sneering cheek to cheek as his associates finish tying the knots around chest and the damp wooden pole his back leans against. The sand underneath him is rocky and sharp; he can already feel the curious laps of the returning tide against his tailbone. His hands are restrained behind the pole as well, while his legs are tied by his ankles. He's sitting, and stuck sitting thanks to the rope around his chest.

His head aches, which isn't very surprising considering the thing that got him in this situation was a well placed hit to his skull via a brick.

He didn't mean to get caught. He simply wanted to blow off some steam after getting fed up with Jason while on patrol. Of all people to be paired up with, it had to be Jason. It couldn't have been someone Damian gets along with like Richard, Duke, or Cassandra. It couldn't have been Timothy where they at least know when boundaries are being pushed with their banter. It couldn't have even been Stephanie, where she's at least funny.

No, the entire family was there, and Damian got paired with the one he doesn't know how to deal with. He got annoyed by the constant, demeaning tone Jason would use on him, and after one too many backhanded insults that only Jason found funny, Damian snapped. He doesn't even remember what exactly was said, he just knows he yelled at Jason to go on without him, and Jason didn't stop him when he turned the other direction.

Thinking back on it, Damian probably insulted him back, and the reason he let Damian go was because he was just as annoyed as Damian was.

It doesn't matter now. What matters is that he didn't intend to stumble upon the Penguin and his goons in some warehouse by the coast. He was just going to take down a few classic muggers or something of similar nature and go back to Jason and act like the argument never happened.

He intended to go back and tell his father about the Penguin's actions, but he didn't notice a pigeon until he almost stepped on it. Startled, it flew up at his face and he fell backwards right through the already broken skylight. He barely managed to slow his fall with his grappling gun, but he still hit the ground pretty hard. Hurt and surprised, he didn't have time to even stand up before the brick was smashed against his skull.

And now he's here, under Gotham's docks, being tied to a poll while the Penguin laughs to himself.

"I'll just let the tide kill you for me," he says to himself, yet his idiot goons still cackle. Damian glares at them, but they only laugh harder, sending down their own insults until the ocean water begins to pool up to Damians toes.

The Penguin makes a remark that it's time to go, and that he doesn't want to get his new dress shoes messy, and then they're gone, leaving Damian to attempt to tug on the ropes holding him against the pole. He tries to reach for the small blades he keeps in the compartments of his gloves, but his fingers come away empty. Curse Gotham's Rogues and their ability to actually use their brains and disarm their captives when they get their hands on them.

He strains harder on the ropes now, twisting and trying to reach any knots with his fingers, but all he succeeds in doing is cutting off the circulation to his hands and pressing the rope into his chest.

He relaxes with a frustrated huff and glares at the water that's already risen a few inches to ripple close to his hips. He knows that not long from now, the water will be above his head.

For now, it's freezing, and once it reaches his fingers, escape will become all the more impossible thanks to numbing appendages.

He tugs on the ropes, then tugs some more, and he keeps going until he has to stop and let the blood come back to his fingers.

The water continues to rise, seeping through his suit and into his bones, rising to his fingers, then his arms, then his shoulders... It's when it finally touches his chin when the despair and terror finally settles.

He can't get out. He can't get out. The ropes feel no more loose than what they were when he began trying to undo them, and his fingers are so numb now they must be turning blue under his gloves. His jaw aches from his chattering teeth, and his nose is beginning to run.

He pulls desperately on his bonds now, his attempts to escape becoming more and more reckless the longer he sits here. He's hyper-aware of the movement of the water around him, and his panic is making it difficult to breathe.

Through his terror, he hears something. The motor of a bike. He hears the engine cut out nearby. He can probably shout for help.

It's his last hope. He can only pray that whoever came to the docks at this hour of night, that they are friendly. He opens his mouth to yell for assistance, but he chokes when sea water enters his mouth. He scrambles his bound feet against the rocky sand, attempting to lift himself up the pole just a little higher, but he doesn't go anywhere. The ropes are too tight.

He's not sure if the water near his eyes is from him flailing in the water, or if it's because of frightened tears. Either way, he can feel the water tickling his nose, and he only has a split second to suck in one last breath of air before the water rises above any means to breath.

"Robin?" A deep voice shouts, and Damian could sob at the irony of it. "You here?"

Someone came looking for him, but they don't know where he is. He's going to drown under the feet of someone who could have saved him if they had come just minutes before.

The water rises over his head now, and he can no longer hear anything besides the racing of his heart. He can't feel his fingers or toes anymore, and he's sure he will drown with bruises under the ropes on his chest.

He's going to drown. He's going to die. His lungs hurt, already his oxygen is running out. He's panicking and it's cold and he's going to die-

He doesn't know how much longer he holds his breath, only that eventually, his mouth opens against his will and sucks in water that may as well be fire going into his lungs.

Black creeps into his vision... and with the last sight of dark bubbles erupting around him, he loses consciousness.

-o-o-o-o-

He wakes up vomiting. A strong hand wraps around his arm and holds him on his side so he can empty his lungs and stomach of salty sea water. It feels like his insides are being torn apart, but eventually it calms down a little so he can finally suck in a gasp of air.

The hand on his arm becomes two, snaking around his shoulder blades to sit him up and squeeze him against a broad chest.

"Holy shit," a familiar voice gasps, "Jesus fuck."

"J'son..." Damian murmurs, trying to make sense of what's going on. His throat feels abused, and his head pounds like drums. He's so tired, his eyes begin to drop.

"Nah don't you fucking think of it," Jason growls, pulling him away from his chest and giving him a hard shake. Damian blinks, trying to focus. Jason brings a hand up and brushes his dripping hair from his face.

Then, it all comes back to him. The tide... The water... He was drowning...

He thought he died.

But here he is, untied from the pole and on the docks, looking at Jason's bare and dripping face with his helmet castaway on the ground. He must have given him mouth-to-mouth... And his chest aches like he's taken a beating. Must be the combined bruises of the ropes and from chest compressions.

He's suddenly overwhelmed with emotions, all of his fear slamming right into him.

"You came," he croaks, not sure if it's because of his abused respiratory system or if it's because of his rekindled tears.

Jason's face twists, then he pulls Damian back in to squeeze him tightly once again. The hug is a surprise, and it hurts, but Damian doesn't fight it. He's too relieved and scared and confused and ashamed to fight it.

"When you didn't answer the comms, I thought you were still mad," Jason explains. The rumble of his voice in his chest against Damian's cheek is oddly relaxing. "But then it started getting late and I didn't feel right, so I asked Babs for your coords and- fuck- I thought I got you killed."

"How did you know...?" Damian asks, not willing to go further into the sentence and endure the pain of his throat.

Jason gives a laugh, and it's almost hysterical. "A lucky guess? I don't know, I guess it's just habit to look in the water when something goes wrong at the docks." There's a pause. Then Jason releases Damian once again. "I'm sorry. I said some things I shouldn't have. This wouldn't have happened if I kept my cool."

Damian shakes his head. It doesn't matter now. "You came."

Jason's lips twitch. "Of course I did. We're... Brothers. Even if we don't get along all the time, I still don't want anyone beating you up other than me."

Damian let's out a laugh, though it dissolves into a fit of coughs. Jason rubs his back during all of it, then once he calms down he helps him to his feet.

"C'mon," he says, "let's get you back home so Alfred can check on you. The sooner we get back, the sooner I can get getting yelled at out of the way for letting you go off on your own."

He helps Damian up to his feet, and Damian gratefully clutches to his jacket to steady himself. "I am to blame too. Once we tell father you helped save me, he will be less angry."

Jason snorts. "You think I'm worried about the old man? It's Dick I'm worried about."

"Ah," Damian grins, all the fear finally ebbing out from his system. "I'm afraid I cannot help you there."

Jason helps Damian onto the bike and returns his helmet so it's over his head. He holds Damian in front of him with one arm securely around his chest as he drives. He feels safe nestled against Jason like this. It's strong and unyielding. His relationship with the older man has always been strange, considering they weren't always on the same sides when Richard was Batman.

But this? This is safe. It's warm. Is careful and gentle. Normally he'd be embarrassed to be so vulnerable like this near Jason, but like Jason said... They're brothers.

He cannot help but feel a little disappointed once they finally make it back to the cave. Yet it seems he's misjudged Jason once again, because after he was rushed to the med-bay and Jason got an earful from Richard... he fell asleep and awoke the next morning with Jason still there.

Things may not be perfect with Jason, and they argue a lot, but Damians sure things have a chance of becoming better.

They're brothers, after all.

#damianwayneweek2021 #damian wayne #Robin #jason todd #Red Hood #dc comics #fanfiction #jin writes #drowning tw #kidnapping tw

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wallwriterstuff · 4 years ago

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Hi! Can I please request a Demetri x mate!human!fem!reader where she’s Bella’s younger sister, and when the Volturi come for Renesmee, the Cullens tell her to stay with Charlie, since they had a bunch of vampires with them plus the Volturi showing up, it’d be bad with a human in the mix. Being related to Bella (haha) she doesn’t listen, choosing to hide behind a tree to try to see how Bella and her family are (she was worried what the Volturi would do). I’m sure everyone would realize there’s a human there, and Aro sends Demetri to check it out, who finds Y/n, and quickly realizes she’s his mate. Ooo that would be nerve racking to Bella because she’d see Dem speed her younger sister over to where all the Volturi are. I’m sure she’d have to go back to Volterra with them, and she’d be a little freaked out. Awhhh it’d be so cute to see them bond, and on New Year’s, she wants to watch the ball drop (because it’s a tradition), and when it’s the New Year, she kisses Dem for the first time!

Little Red Riding Hood Part 1 ||Demetri Volturi x Female Reader||

Part 2: The Big Bad Wolf

Part 3: What Soft Lips You Have

Part 4: And They Lived Happily Ever After

Warnings: None, just Aro being a manipulative little meanie

Words: 4793

Summary: Against her sister’s advice, Y/N Swan sets off on a one woman mission to protect her family, unaware of the price she will have to pay to do so.

One of the worst habits you had was wondering the house late at night when you shouldn’t be. It wasn’t your fault really, insomnia didn’t have an easy cure and your sleeping medication was…well, when you woke up in the morning you felt drunk, they weren’t really something you enjoyed using. It had been an innocent quest really, a simple mission – get a warm mug of milk to go back to bed with. If anything, you were perfectly in the right to go wandering your own home. It should have been safe, even at 3:24AM.

Riley Biers shouldn’t have been there.

But he was.

In your living room.

And so were you.

Until you weren’t.

Alice had seen it all in advance of course and whisked you out of that room so fast the venom hadn’t even had time to properly enter your system after Riley bit down. Charlie hadn’t even been woken from his slumber by the time you were whisked into the depths of the forest to a nice little clearing where you could scream to your hearts content and nobody would hear you. Carlisle had saved you that night, sucking the venom out as quickly as Riley had injected it. The night that had followed was a surreal, whistle stop tour of the vampire world and its laws, laws you were technically breaking since you knew about the Cullen’s now. Of course, that meant you knew about the newborn army to, but you decided to stay out of that one. Some things however…some things demanded your attention, and whether you were human or not you simply had to at least see your family would be okay.

After a whirlwind few months your sister was saved, married and knocked up. Come Christmas, your hybrid niece was looking to be nine years old and your father was suspicious but none the wiser to the world you knew all too much about. You had carefully hidden your bitemark with polo necks, a sudden and bizarre choice your father had commented on once but quickly dismissed after you spouted some fashion facts Alice had prepared you with – fashion and Charlie did not mix and he dropped that conversation faster than one might drop a saucepan on fire. Of course, Renesmee (who you had created a variety of nicknames for just to tease Bella because otherwise you…well you’d have to call her Renesmee, and that was just cruel) was unique in every way, and unique and unknown equated to threat and danger in many minds, many minds the Cullen’s had slowly swayed over the few weeks since Alice had informed them of their impending death sentence.

You hadn’t been allowed to visit since the nomads and covens had started arriving, and though you understood the reason it didn’t make it any easier to know your sister, your niece, your extended family, were all in danger and you weren’t getting to spend what might be their last moments with them. It was only made worse when Bella and Edward had brought your father tickets to go fishing out of state, and tried to do the same to you. You loved your TV shows, truly you did, so for them to somehow get you backstage passes for Supernatural of all things was…immense. What you hated the most was how tempted you were to go. Who would say no to a long stay in a five star hotel, all expenses paid for and any bills you accumulated paid for by a Cullen, bottomless credit card?

When Edward and Bella had dropped you at the airport, part of you really had been ready to say goodbye to them, but as you stood in line for the gate the heavy weight of guilt settled in your gut and wouldn’t stop squirming. You had to turn back, you had to go. Nobody knew when the Volturi were going to land exactly, but you knew the day, and with Charlie and Sue gone for their fishing trip you would have nobody to stop you doing the incredibly dumb thing you had set your heart on. The taxi fare home had been extortionate but you couldn’t exactly have called anyone for a lift could you? You called the hotel and told them you were cancelling your stay, having to push your backstage pass for the Supernatural set deep into the depths of your bag to manage the grief of missing that opportunity, but family came first.

A restless night’s sleep later and you were dressing for the snow. It had fell fast and thick since Christmas day, so you had to set out early if you were going to get anywhere fast. Bella was your sister and you loved one another dearly, so of course you had spoken all about the upcoming battle, her hopes and her fears, her plans.

“There’s a clearing to the North of the house, we’re hoping if we engage them there it’ll be far enough away from people to stop anyone else getting involved by accident.”

Clearing to the North of the Cullen residence, right. With your Grandfather’s old compass you had set out, bundled in your thickest woollen coat and decked out the whole nine yards with scarves and hats and gloves. The air was freezing, nipping harshly at your exposed skin till your ears and nose were tinged red. Sniffling, you trudged through the layers of snow, stumbling over your own feet once or twice in the hereditary Swan way before regaining your footing and ploughing on. The trees seemed never-ending, an identical blanket of white on each and every one that towered above you, encroaching from all sides and making you lose all sense of direction. If it wasn’t for the compass in your hand you could have easily gotten lost in the winter wonderland, but a break in the treeline finally made an appearance. Numb as your extremities were, you forced your tired body to cooperate and propelled yourself forward, stumbling towards a tree you might be able to see past.

The forest was eerily silent, not a single scuttling animal or twittering bird to be found today, and the clearing itself was so large and the covens spread so far apart you could barely see a thing either, not with your dull, human eyes. A swarm of black gave away the Volturi, the mismatch of beiges and neutral tones on the left letting you know your family had yet to be taken down. A sigh of relief escaped you and you clapped a hand over your mouth in alarm, heart skipping a beat in your chest. Vampires had extremely sensitive hearing, there was no way somebody hadn’t heard you, and if it wasn’t the sigh that gave you away then it would surely have been the sound of mitten slapping flesh. Pressing into the bark you peeked around the tree trunk, heart hammering in your chest now as you tried to establish what was happening. You couldn’t hear a thing, could barely see. Ness sat atop Jacob, his russet fur glinting in the bright white of the snow-covered landscape.

“It all looks so terribly interesting from this distance does it not?” the smooth voice was right by your ear, and you screamed louder than you ever had in your life. Whirling around you shrunk back from the vibrantly red eyes of an admittedly handsome man, his expression devoid of any emotion as he looked you over. He had boxed you in against the tree trunk, his cloak billowing about him, the shiny, golden ‘V’ hanging around his throat making your chest constrict. Volturi, he was a Volturi guard. With wide eyes you stood in a silent stare-off, unable to decipher the emotions flickering through his eyes as he stood a step toward you.

“Stay away from me!” you cried, cringing back into the bark behind you. His head tilted.

“You came to spy and did not expect there would be consequences?” he asked, not stopping till he was almost on top of you. Your breath hitched. He had the most gorgeous looking face but you could identify the features of a killer in it. The glowing red irises didn’t look at you with malice however, more…confusion. His sharp, pearl white teeth weren’t bared to take your throat out but carefully sealed away behind plush lips. You could almost believe he didn’t intend on hurting you if his hands weren’t still reaching for you.

“You’re here to butcher my family, I had to…” you trailed off, because in reality what could you do? What could you possible say to this vampire that wouldn’t make him laugh? You were human, you stood no chance. He had paused, waiting patiently for your answer, yet when you gave him none he proceeded to pick you up like you weighed next to nothing, your feet being whisked out of the numbing snow to dangle over his arm. His eyes never left yours.

“Hold tight little one.” He suggested, his voice devoid of any emotion. If there had been any part of him you might have been able to appeal to before it was gone now, hidden behind a stony exterior. The world blurred around you and the jarring movement thew you off balance as he set you on your feet again, your body tilting in a way it shouldn’t till he was forced to grab you and hold you steady. Nausea rose quickly in the back of your throat, the world still spinning and blurring your eyes. You could see the edges of black cloaks swirling in your vision as you fought back the urge to be sick. There was no way to hide your anxiety now, your heart hammering away for all to hear, your breathing too quick to be normal.

“You seem to have distressed our dear friends, Demetri.” The smooth voice was sickeningly sweet, entirely false to your ears. Trying to take a steadying breath, you forced yourself to look up at the three imposing figures before you. A giant stood behind them, two young twins to their right. The three were quite obvious to you form the stories you’d heard, and your shudder had nothing to do with the cold this time. Demetri, the man holding you, had yet to let go of your waist, and his hands felt strangely soothing, their firm grip something that felt grounding and reliable despite your terror in this moment.

“An intruder who has already seen too much, end her now as yet another of the Cullen’s mistakes.” The blonde sneered. You swallowed, mind spinning. You were dead either way, right?

“My niece is not a mistake.” You retorted. You were proud that your voice didn’t waver once, though the grip on your waist tightened slightly and you weren’t sure if it was to warn you or scold you. Caius hissed, eyes narrowed in a vicious glare.

“Your niece? May I, my dear?” Aro stood before you, taller than you had expected with hair almost as long as yours. You knew it wasn’t a request, but you found yourself desperate either way to avoid touching him and shrank back from his extended hand, straight into Demetri’s chest. His hand was hesitant, but it lifted from your waist to lightly skim down your arm, his lips close to your hairline as he whispered, “Do as you are told now, little one.”

He carefully extended your hand for you, noting the tremor in it once more as Aro’s eyes flickered between you. He removed your mitten with a flourish, your hand immediately clenching and unclenching at the sudden blast of arctic cold it had previously been shrouded from. Aro’s skin was somehow even colder and your shivering grew in intensity. Very vaguely, you could hear Bella shouting something, but the distance was so great and the clearing so vast it swallowed the sound. His eyes flickered over yours, completely pinning you to the spot, and then they looked past you to whatever was happening behind you. Demetri was blocking your view when you tried to see what Aro was seeing.

“Sweet Y/N, your bravery in coming here is applaudable. I can only hope our own dear ones are as dedicated to our family as you are to yours.” Aro sighed, a hint of melancholy in his voice. You flinched, knowing the next words from his mouth would most likely be spelling out your death sentence. The sound of the breeze was all that filled your ears for a moment, the anxiety and anticipation growing in your stomach making it difficult to hold onto the meagre breakfast you’d forced yourself to eat. It occurred to you in that moment that this would be your final moments with your family, your last chance to say goodbye, and they could hear it. Squaring your shoulders, you held your head high.

“I came because I love them, and I don’t regret that. You can’t destroy my family, their witnesses are proof of that. My niece was created out of love and the legacy of love they would leave behind will be far too great for you to overcome. So go ahead and do what you have to to me, if I can die with half their grace then I know I’ve done them proud.” You clenched your fists at your side, prepared for the bite that Aro would deliver, maybe Demetri. Caius looked most upset by your little speech, hissing quietly and looking prepared to spring towards you. More muffled noise from behind you let you know your family had heard, even if you couldn’t hear their goodbyes you felt them in your heart.

Aro’s head tilted slightly, his expression cold, and then his mouth opened slightly and he was leaning forward. You closed your eyes, flinching as you braced for the pain of a bite you knew well, but instead you felt cold air, and when your eyes snapped open you were shielded from Aro’s bite by a tall, lean body, one strong arm curled backward to keep you caged against his spine. Demetri.

“Master…please.” He extended his hand, ripping off his glove with his teeth as he went. Aro eagerly took his hand, probably as desperate as you were to know why one of his most treasured guard would so openly defy him. Some of the Volturi’s people were starting to whisper behind them but a lethal look (from the giant of a man you guessed was Felix from Bella’s stories) silenced them. His grip on your hip tightened for a moment, the silence deafening before Aro chuckled.

“Ahhh…così si forma un legame eterno.” he murmured. You scrunched your nose, having no idea what he meant since you didn’t speak Italian. When Demetri carefully moved aside, giving Aro as slim a chance to access you as he possibly could, and your heart twisted with gratitude that he would even bother to try. You swallowed, doing your best to keep your fear from your face.

“Aro.” Caius growled. Aro held his hand up, forcing his brother to heel even if he couldn’t placate him.

“You are intriguing, Y/N. The Volturi do not offer second chances, but for the sake of our dear Demetri we are willing to bend the rules just this once,” Aro smiled, a shark-like grin that made your stomach sink, “You have a choice before you. Your family are quite innocent in regards to the accusation against your niece, for that we will deliver no justice-“ there was some uncomfortable shuffling behind him Aro dutifully ignored, “-however you are a law broken, yet another example of the Cullen’s inability to guard our secret from humans. An example must be made, you must be dealt with appropriately. Either you turn here, now, or you come with us, and we turn you.”

It was a Hobson’s choice. What Aro was really asking was how dead did you want to be? Dead dead? Or undead dead? If you let Carlisle bite you now in the clearing there were so many unpredictable nomads around. Bite your wrist and it would take forever for the venom to reach your heart and really start the change, you would be tortured right in front of them, a punishment for them all no doubt. Bite your throat and blood would spill, blood so many of those nomads wouldn’t think twice about feeding from in any other situation. So, what did you do? Did you choose the option where you ended up far from home but safe? Or did you choose the option that did not guarantee your safety but did guarantee your family would suffer watching you suffer?

For the first time since you entered the snow you felt warm, warm with so many eyes on you. Swallowing thickly, you tried to will your mind to work faster to outwit the vampire before you. In the end, you could only think of a compromise.

“My father’s not home right now. If I chose to come with you, could I have time to pack some clothes?” your voice was slightly weak, your heart aching in your chest. Your father would never see you again, he’d have to believe you just ran off, that you were the same flighty woman your mother was. Bella might never get a chance to see you again either, an eternity of knowing you would never lose your sister, but that you would never be reunited. It was painful however you spun it. Aro’s smile only widened, knowing he had successfully backed you into a corner.

“But of course! Such a…noble, sacrifice, must be rewarded. You have earned that much my dear. Demetri will take you now.” Aro gave his tracker a nod and Demetri seemed to relax, swiftly turning on his heel to march you across the snow. His hand was gentle on your arm, but the speed he set almost had you running to keep up, like he was desperate to get you out of there lest Aro change his mind. As you were escorted out of the clearing, you dared a single glance back at Bella, her face the very picture of horror as Edward held her back. All you could manage was a weak smile as your sister disappeared from view for what was possible the last time.

Once you were far enough into the trees that the clearing was out of sight for you, Demetri suddenly came to a stop, exhaling sharply and dropping his hand from your arm. It ran through his hair but barely ruffled it. Whatever he was thinking, you weren’t about to be privy to it as he slung you across his back with ease. You gasped, clinging on tight.

“Hey! What are you doing!” you protested.

“Taking you to your home. You are slower than I am.” He retorted, his voice quiet and his grip on your thighs firm. You held on tight, heart rabbiting in your chest.

“You don’t even know where I live.” You squeaked. Demetri chuckled, the sound vibrating through your gut.

“No, but I know where the Cullen’s live, and I find it hard to believe that in all this snow you walked all the way here. Now hold on tight and try closing your eyes, it may help with the nausea, cara mia.” He gave you seconds at most to bury your face in his shoulder before he took off, maybe…or not? You weren’t really sure but you didn’t dare lift your head to look. He made sure his gait was smooth, every stride flawless so he didn’t so much as jostle you, and by the time he gently encouraged you to unwind your legs from his waist you were in front of the Cullen’s house. The only reminder you had ever ran anywhere with him at all was the windswept state of your hair – it was unfair his still looked perfect.

He had been right of course, you had driven to the Cullen’s today. It was hard to imagine him sitting beside you in your small car, his cloak about him and his outfit all…well, what even was he wearing? Why did that even matter when this Volturi guard was escorting you to pack things that would be your only reminder of home? Demetri was quiet, watching you carefully as you stared at your car. Nothing made sense. Why had Demetri saved you when he was the one who hauled you out in front of Aro? Why had it felt like he was protecting you? Why was everything so…comfortable? Being around him was like being in the company of an old friend, it was familiar and warm, inviting, the silences felt natural.

Demetri quietly called your name, his expression questioning, but you didn’t bother to give him an explanation, simply pulled out your car keys and got into the driver’s seat. The radio chased away the silence, your fingers clenched tight around the wheel as you tried to figure out what to pack.

“Where are we going?” you asked him finally. Demetri kept his eyes on the horizon.

“To our home, to Volterra. You will be joining us in Italy.” He answered. Italy? You didn’t know the first thing about Italian culture. What was the food like? The people? The language? You’d need to pack warmer clothes, and they didn’t accommodate turtle-necks – not that you needed to hide a bite from vampires. It wasn’t really until you pulled up in the driveway of your home that it really struck you, the weight of the deal you made hanging heavy on your shoulders as you idled in front of your childhood home. In your mind you could see yourself running up the drive, your suitcase abandoned for your father to pick up as he welcomed you to stay for the summer. Other winters where you had opted to spend Christmas with Charlie over Renée flashed through your mind next, dilapidated snowmen and strung up lights over the porch flashing bright. Tears stung your eyes.

“I’m never coming back here, am I?” you whispered. Demetri remained silent, and you were grateful for it. There was nothing he could say to make this better and you suspected he knew that. Furiously wiping at your eyes, you rummaged for your house keys and cleared your throat. “You should wait until I open the front door, it’ll look suspicious if you follow me in and any of the neighbours see.” You muttered, already climbing out of the car before he could argue. It was a slow walk up the drive, a walk where you desperately tried to imprint the bumps in the concrete, the muddy smells of the forest surrounding you, and the awful netting in the windows’ you father hadn’t changed since your mother moved on, into your memory.

The smell of stale beer from the cans in the recycling box beneath the sink hit your nose as the door opened, the familiar smells of Charlie’s aftershave and Sue’s perfume coming next. The house was cold, quiet, desolate even. Demetri was in front of you in the blink of an eye as you shut the door behind you, nobody would have seen him enter for sure. He glanced around himself, obviously curious at the choice in décor and the photographs along the walls – you couldn’t bear to look at them. With a soft sigh, you left him in the living room, knowing he would do what he liked anyway regardless as to whether or not you invited him upstairs.

The suitcase you had packed for your trip would need to be unpacked, some of your jumpers and long-sleeved shirts would not be needed in Italy after all. It would be hot, and heat was not a friend to wool. Your wardrobe doors flung open, you were contemplating what to put back when Demetri interrupted you.

“Vampires do not feel temperature the same way humans do. When you turn it will be no issue to wear jumpers, if they are what you prefer.” He said. Brows crinkling, you subconsciously lifted a hand to your throat.

“It’s not really a fashion choice,” you murmured, “But I guess I don’t need to really hide a bitemark from a bunch of vampires, do I?” Just like that the air changed; you no longer felt comfortable with Demetri, not when he was giving off such a sour energy. He radiated danger, anger. He took a breath to visibly compose himself, but his eyes were still darkened by anger, near black with the rage he radiated. The leather of his gloves squeaked as he clenched and unclenched his fists. You took a step back from him, biting down on your lower lip as your heart skittered.

“Show me,” he said, eyes blazing. You shook your head. “Show me.” He growled, stepping forward this time. Gulping, you reached up with a shaky hand to pull the turtle-neck down as far as you could, thankful the material stretched slightly. Demetri peered past the fabric to the silver crescent shapes of Riley’s teeth, emblazoned on your skin until Volturi venom decided to buff out that imperfection. He hissed quietly, his fingertips tracing the mark and sending shivers down your spine. He was freezing cold, cold as a corpse actually since that was technically what he was, so why did his fingers leave a blazing trail of fire across your skin?

“It’s just small, it’ll go away anyway if-“

“It will not, go away.” Demetri ground out, his eyes fixated on the scar. He looked genuinely disgusted and you couldn’t tell if it was at you or the bitemark, you couldn’t tell quite why it bothered you so much either. Why did you care so much that this upset Demetri?

“It won’t?” you asked weakly. He winced a bit, letting his hands drop and looking away. You counted ten whole seconds before he dared turn back to you.

“No, it will not. Venom is what will immortalise you, petrify your system, it has had a chance to do so to those cells it has touched already and they will be forever changed by it. My only hope is to bite down there, that by breaking the surface with my teeth it heals over with my venom.” He almost growled the word at you in his frustration and you swallowed, blinking in surprise.

“You’re going to be the one that turns me?” you questioned. Could he even do that? Did he have the self-control? You had thought Aro would do it if you were honest, though you couldn’t say you were over the moon to have that old coot’s teeth in your throat it was guaranteed to at least be safe. What right did Demetri have to steal your life? Why was he so angry over the thought of another vampire biting you? Had he claimed some weird sort of vampire dibs?

“Of course. The Volturi have laws they enforce but when it comes to affairs between mates, they leave well enough alone.” He informed you, head tilting. Your breath caught in your throat.

“Mates?” you whispered, mind reeling.

“You do not feel the pull?” he asked. He had yet to step back from you, unbearably close and yet somehow not close enough. For a moment you couldn’t say anything, simply trying to desperately scramble to think coherently enough to consider answering.

“I don’t…I barely know you, you can’t just…say that.” You stammered. Demetri very gently grasped your chin between his fingers, tilting your face upward so you were forced to maintain eye contact with him. You weren’t sure what he was searching for, if he found it or not, but he dropped your chin with a sigh.

“Pack, tesoro, we have little time.” He murmured. You were relieved when he stepped back – it gave you a chance to breathe. Mate? Demetri thought you were his mate? You knew what that meant, Edward had explained to you what his connection with Bella was like after Riley had introduced you to his world, trying to help you understand how awful the months leading up to Bella’s running away to Italy had been for both of them. Is that why he had been so protective of you on the field? Is that why he was so furious another vampire had dared mark you? It crossed your mind then just how selfish your decision actually looked to the outside world. In your head, you had been saving your family from suffering, but to them it probably looked like you had chosen to run off with your mate because you didn’t trust they would take care of you. How were they ever going to forgive you for this?

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #volturi #demetri volturi #demetri volturi x reader #request #swan sister #they're all as dumb as each other I swear #x reader #possessive demetri is kind of a thing I'm suddenly into apparently

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the-sympathetic-villain · 4 years ago

Note

U!patton and Remus for the Remus prompt. my friend and I had an idea where Patton forces Remus to wear a muzzle so he can’t talk

Okay, I don't know how to write short prompts so I went a little overboard on this. I also threw in some protective Janus just for fun. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it! <3

Pure Thoughts

Description: Remus makes his way over to the light side of the Mindscape to patch up his relationship with Virgil, but he doesn't quite make it to his friend.

Characters: Remus, Patton, Janus, Virgil and Logan Mentioned Pairings: Platonic Dukeciet Word Count: 3256 Warnings: Remus-Type Content (Sexual Innuendo, Somewhat Graphic Descriptions, Etc), Threats, Attempted Erasing of a Side, Swearing, Death mention, Angst with a happy ending, Hurt/Comfort, Unsympathetic Patton (Let me know if I missed anything!)

---

Remus poked his head into the dim, empty corridor of the mindscape, pausing to check for the other sides before tiptoeing around the corner. Any other night, he'd be making his way down the hall with cymbals on the feet and a kazoo in his mouth, but tonight was the night to be covert. For once, he was actually trying not to be noticed, and notably, he was succeeding. Which was as perfectly satisfying as his pet eldritch demon's tentacle slime, because the last time he'd made one of his more spectacular entrances in their shared spaces, the Microsoft Nerd™ had nearly blown a gasket.

He'd lectured Remus for nearly forty-five minutes about ‘optimal sleep schedules’ and ‘the importance of brushing your teeth’ or whatever the dork had been saying. Quite frankly, Remus hadn't been listening. Learning from his mistakes wasn't exactly his jam, and if nerdy Wolverine’s brain was too full of Crofter’s to have realized that, that seemed like a him problem.

Besides, that was the past. Right now, the future seemed so much juicer. His fabulously favorite emo had eased up on his prickly sarcasm enough to give him a chance to talk things out, and as ambivalent as he may pretend to be, he wasn’t going to pass on the opportunity to make amends with his old friend. He wanted to salvage any small piece of their damaged relationship, so here he was, sneaking into the light sides' half of the mindscape to duke it out with his anxious nightmare.

The only challenge left was passing the other light sides’ rooms. Virgil's room of course had of course moved to the farthest corner of their space, making it the most difficult to reach without being noticed. Of course, he could make it easy if he cut across the common room. That way, he'd miss Roman’s room entirely and the only one he'd have to worry about was—

“Hey, kiddo.”

Remus head spun on his shoulder to the sound of Patton’s voice. The usually friendly father figure's familiar voice filled the room with a soft kind of seriousness that sent shivers down Remus' spine. The chill in Patton's voice was new and unsettling, but still, Remus cracked a cocky grin as he stared into the shadows and waited for Patton's lecture. After a moment, the lamp on the far side of the room clicked on to reveal a seriously scary looking frown on Patton’s face. Remus straightened upright as a tingling of fear crept up his arms. The creep factor of the amber lighting alone would have put Remus' own efforts to shame, but this was Patton.

Pun-loving, puppy cuddling Patton.

Patty boy’s harmless.

Right?

Remus swallowed nervously before summoning up his usual carefree front and staggering across the soft carpet. “Hey, Padre. Sorry, if you were looking for a late night suck, but I'm actually in a bit of a hurry. Maybe later—”

“Language, Remus.”

Remus stalled at the coldness in Patton’s tone. He licked his lips. The hostility in the air was nearly palpable as Remus stared across the room, trying to get a gauge on this new side Patton. It wasn't often one of the other sides left Remus speechless, but he was unsure of how to react to such an open display of hostility, especially from the side whose entire being was rigged toward being nurturing. Oh, well. There wasn't much else for him to do and he was on a schedule tonight. Remus let out a breath, falling back on familiar habits as an attempt to cover his exit. “Don't get your panties in a bunch, Patty daddy. I know you’re not the type blow and go without a sticky emotional mess, but you don’t have to worry—”

“You’re not going, Remus.”

Remus’ grin faltered at the finality in Patton’s voice, biting his lip as he eyed the direction of Virgil's room. “Um, what?”

“Virgil’s been doing so good.” Patton growled as he rose to his feet. Remus' feet felt like lead holding him in place while Patton moved to block his way. “I finally got my kiddo realizing how toxic you are to him and I’m not going to let you play with him anymore.”

Remus' mustache twitched with displeasure at the insinuation, though a part of him wasn't denying Patton's brusque statement. “Listen, Pattycake. As well as you play the daddy dom role, Virgil asked for me to come and I don’t see where this is your business, so I'll just be—"

“Virgil needs help knowing what's good for him.” Patton continued as a deep hatred started to burn in his eyes. “and that isn't you, Remus.”

Remus brushed him off, starting towards the door. He'd only made it a few steps before Patton waved his hand the door disappeared. Defensiveness turned to frustration as he reeled on Patton. “You can't just—”

“Go back to the whole where you belong before force you into your place.”

Remus froze as Patton's stomp connected with the ground, sending a shiver across his skin as the particles of his body destabilized. A choking breath caught in his throat and his hands shot to his chest in a manic frenzy as his body solidified again. He glanced up at the dangerous sparkle in Patton's eye. Remus was alive for now, but he got the feeling Patton wasn’t done with him yet.

“Hold on, Pat. Let's talk about this—” A bead of sweat dripped down Remus temple as he began stepping away from the door. His hands lingered in the air as he tried to reason with Patton. “—I thought we were good. The human pocket protector told you it was best to play nice with me. I get you don't like me, and it don’t have to be an orgy or nothing, but you can't just piss all over the nerd's hypoth—”

“Shut up.”

Remus sucked in a sharp breath as a black, leather muzzle appeared over his face. The leather molded to his skin as his hands shot to his face in a sudden manic moment of fear. Desperately, he pulled at the leather with all the force he could muster as the glowing rage in Patton’s eyes slowly backed him into a corner.

“I'm sick of you bullying Logan and dragging Virgil down.” The lights in the room flickered as Patton cried out and shoved Remus to the ground. “I don't care what Thomas says or Logan thinks. You don’t deserve to stay. Thomas is better off without you."

Remus hesitated. His hands lingered on the muzzle as his eyes flitted the door back to his own room. He knew he could retreat to his own room, but the idea of letting Virgil think he’d stood him up gave him pause. The choice was made for him a moment later when Patton’s power vibrated in the air and Remus let out a muffled cry as he felt his being wavering. The particles of his body began to weaken and fade as his resistance crumbled. He was unable to push back or even speak as Patton started to force him into the subconscious.

“Virgil will be disappointed when he realizes you forgot about him,” Patton whispered as Remus tipped his head up to meet the horrifying smile spread across Patton's face. “but he'll understand once you’re gone. I'll make sure he knows how bad you really are.”

Panic shot to Remus’ heart as he clutched at his fading body, choking as the muzzle as it grew tighter on his lips.

“I should have put that muzzle on you years ago." Patton’s laugh cracked in his ear. “Your silence is music to my ears. Finally, we can be good. Thomas can be good without you hear to ruin—"

“Is everything okay in here?”

Remus let out a heaving breath as his body hit the ground. He clutched his hands to his body, feeling around to make sure he was still fully there as Patton's grip loosened on him.

“Mind your own business, Janus.”

“Remus is my business. You made it clear years ago that he is my responsibility.” A flicker of worry flashed over Janus' eyes as Remus glanced up to him, but his gaze remained cold and distant as he maintained eye contact with Patton. “In fact, I think I'll be taking him now.”

Remus fingers raised to his lips as Patton’s muzzle fell away at Janus’ snap. His body was numb as Janus moved between him and Patton, extending a hand down to him. Remus swayed, staring at the fury in Patton's eyes as Janus pulled him to his feet.

“You have no right—”

“I think you'll find that I'm quite within my rights to do as I please.” Janus muttered as he absently brushed the dust from Remus’ shirt and shot a deathly glare at Patton. "but if you want to test that theory, I have no problem getting Thomas involved.”

Patton growled his discontent as Janus stepped forward to shield Remus from Patton's gaze. The silence hung over them, weighing heavy on Remus' shaking body, until the air shifted and Patton took a step back. “Keep him away from Virgil or I may not be so forgiving next time.”

“Don’t worry. You've won this battle, Morality, but I hope you know that Virgil will start to question your iron grip on him eventually. I taught him better than to simply follow others.” Janus muttered bitterly. His head bowed in reluctant acceptance of Patton's good grace, though his voice remained rebellious as their eyes remained locked together. “ He will not accept your word on blind faith.”

“Virgil will learn not to question me when he realizes how toxic you are to him. He can be molded into something better, unlike the cretin you're using so much of your dwindling energy to protect.” Patton spat as he turned to the door. “Now, go back to your hole before I change my mind."

“Remus, go.” Janus shoved him to the door.

“But—”

“For once in your life, don’t argue with me.” Janus muttered as he guided the shell-shocked Remus back to the dark sides' hallway. His voice dropped after a few steps and he glanced down at Remus. “Not a single word until he can't hear us. Got it?”

Remus nodded, still numb as Janus dragged him toward his own room. He could hear Janus’ breathing become heavy as he guided Remus through the narrowing hallways with an unnatural speed, not stopping until they reached Remus' black door at the end of the hallway.

“Jan—”

“Not yet, Re.” Janus whispered as he cast one last suspicious glance down the empty hallway before shoving Remus inside the narrow door frame.

“Janus, what the h—”

Remus' diatribe was knocked out of him as Janus' body slammed into his chest. He froze as Janus' arms curled around him, unsure of how to process the man's tight grip. He tensed, ready to struggle when he realized Janus was actually hugging him.

“Are you hurt?”

“What? No—” Remus whispered. His body went limp as released him enough to look him up and down. “I'm—I'm fine, Jan.”

“I'm going kill that self-righteous bastard.” Janus seethed. His grip on Remus' shoulders tightened as he stared past Remus to the closed door. “How dare he threaten you—”

“Janus—”

“—and especially when you were actually working to make things right with Virgil—"

“I don’t—” Remus blinked as Janus' words registered in his mind. "Wait, how did you know that's what I was—"

“I mean, where does he even get off thinking he can control Virgil's life without his input anyway?" Janus growled, gesturing abruptly to the door. "Virgil isn’t some helpless child. He’s able to make his own decisions—"

“Am I on fucking mute or something?”

“—and you!” Janus spat, gesturing towards the Remus. Remus immediately flinched at Janus' anger, though he wasn’t sure what he'd done to deserve the lying side's ire. “He could have killed you—”

"What?" Remus flailed as Janus grabbed the collar of his shirt like a disobedient child. “Hey, that's not fair! I didn’t know that Pattoncake was secretly a sadist—”

“You should have been more careful—"

Remus' head reeled as Janus spun him around, but he managed to stifle his nausea long enough to shout at Janus. “Jan—For fuck's sake, either fuck me or take my head off your fucking chopping block—”

Janus blinked, finally taking in Remus' red face as he swayed uneasily in Janus' grip. “What?”

"Listen, I like it rough and all but if I knew that you could manhandle me like that—" Remus blinked blearily as Janus loosened his grip. "Fuck the possibilities are endless, but—"

"Remus, I'm really not in the mood for your games tonight—"

“I'm not playing—Just ignore all of that. I needed to get your attention because you wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise. ” Remus muttered, waving his hands as he found his bearings. “Jan, you—you frickin' saved me.”

"Now is the time you decide to censor yourself?"

"I'm trying to give you a compliment, Janus." Remus cut him off with a wave of his arms. "Hello, I wasn't expecting to become a damsel in distress but you make a hell of a knight in shining armor to have actually stepped in to save me.

“Of course, I saved you." Janus muttered after a moment, dipping his head in embarrassment. "I felt Patton’s emotions start to well up. I knew he was going to cause trouble and I wasn't about to leave you to his mercy.”

“What so you mean you felt him?” Remus mouth dropped in confusion.

Janus shrugged as his gaze dropped to the ground, still agitated. “I feel a lot of things Patton does.”

“But why?” Remus growled angrily as Janus clammed up. "Just spit it out already, Jan—"

“Because he's Thomas’ biggest lie.” Janus blurted out without thinking, gesturing to the door.

“What?” Remus whispered as he watched Janus begin to pace the room.

“The source of Thomas’ morality is corrupt.” Janus yelled, though he was quickly losing steam. “Not Thomas himself. God, not Thomas. But his insistence on clinging to his purity complex and thinking he can please everyone if he just tries hard enough—It's the most insidious evil that's ever taken root in him.

Remus went quiet as Janus explained and everything suddenly began to click into place.

“Thomas can't just turn his attention away from every reality he doesn't like.” Janus shrugged as he looked up at Remus. “Trying to eliminate anything uncomfortable or unpleasant in his life is a slippery slope to much more dangerous ideas.”

“Okay,sure, but this is still happy pappy, sunshine-coming-out-of-his-ass Patton. You sure you don't got a screw loose in that big brain of yours?” Remus managed to blurt out in exasperation. The scene had just played out before his own eyes, but he couldn't help that his brain turned to fuzz every time he attempted to process it. “Ya know? Maybe, we’re in a some sort of shared delusion. I mean, I know he's cute and all but now's not the time to think with your other head—”

"Remus," Janus let out an exasperated sigh as he glared at Remus. “I know you can’t help it but I would strongly prefer you think before you speak, like a normal person—”

“But, Jan. Come on—"

“His perceived innocence is part of the ruse, Remus. Why do you think Thomas' Logic is blind to his actions?” Janus muttered as his voice became nearly manic. "Why do you think his Creativity fawns over him and his Anxiety is soothed by him?"

Remus giggled as the human side of Janus' face became a brilliant shade of red. "Couldn't just be that he's just more personable than you, Janus?"

"Remus, I swear I'll strangle you myself—"

“Ya know, it's not often I'm the one fighting to talk over you.” Remus interrupted as he giggled and leaned into Janus' fury with a crooked grin. “If I knew you'd get all hot and bothered by Patty getting rough with me, I would’ve shoved my—"

“If you value your life, you will not finish that thought.” Janus muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “This is serious, Remus. You—You could have died.”

“Everything’s always serious, Jan-Jan. You should give yourself a break.” Remus grinned, gesturing up and down at himself. "Do I look dead to you?"

“I know, but—”

Remus' grin widened as he rambled. “I mean, I've got a plan for when the heart attack kills you and all, but I'm not like dying to use it.”

“That's not the—Wait, you do?”

“Well, yeah. I wouldn't let you go out without a bang." Remus' grin widened as Janus turned up him curiously. "Figured I'd have some fun with it and put your head under someone’s covers. It’s very Godfather-esque.”

“Huh—" Janus leaned back, suddenly contemplative to Remus' proposal. "To whom would you do this?”

“Well, not Pattycake anymore.” Remus laughed, patting Janus on the back. “Maybe, Roman though. He needs good jolt every once in a while.”

“He certainly could stand to come down a few notches on his ego.” Janus sighed, rolling his eyes. He paused, finally taking a breath as he stared at Remus unfaltering smile. “I have no idea how you're managing to stay calm after what just happened."

“Well, that's easy." Remus purred with cocky smile as he leaned into Janus. “I got my big, bad protector here with me.”

"I got lucky, Remus." Janus huffed. “If I hadn't have been paying attention to Patton's power flaring up, you would've—”

“Whatever, you felt that Patty boy was about to turn me to dust and you showed up.” Remus brushed off Janus' excuses. “That means something, Jan—Means a lot to me actually.”

Janus blinked as he looked up to the suddenly serious expression on Remus' face.

“The deadly dad freaked me out and I have to admit he had me kinda buying the story that I'm not that great of an influence on Virgil—” Remus sighed as he let his grin dropped away. “— or Thomas even, but I figure if you saved me, I can’t actually be all bad.”

“You’re not bad, Remus.”

“Yeah, well, even I need a reminder of that every once in a while.” Remus smiled. He shifted on his feet as he looked up at Janus. “So, thanks.”

“Anytime, Re.” Janus smirked at Remus' sincere smile. "I've always got your back."

“I know you do.” Remus breathed with a worried glance back at his door. “Saving me might have been the easy part though, Jan. Patton didn't seem like he was gonna let our Stormy Nightmare go.”

“Virgil will see through his lies,” Janus breathed as tasted the air. “The power's shifting and he can't hold me back forever. We aren't going down without a fight, and once Thomas sees his true nature, the game's over for Morality.”

“Well, better get cracking then,” Remus grinned. “before Patton finishes brainwashing 'em all.”

Janus nodded with a glance at the wall as a sudden chill ran up his spine. He could feel someone watching, but he supposed it didn’t matter. There was no turning back now. “Yes, Remus. I think it’s time to start pushing back.”

---

@justanotherhumanstuff @im-an-anxious-wreck @shadowyplaidpurseegg

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #ts remus #ts patton #ts janus #unsympathetic patton #platonic dukeceit #remus centric #Pure Thoughts #villain writes

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elizabeth-mitchells · 3 years ago

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Journeys end in lovers meeting - Sam/Deena - Bly Manor AU

Chapters: 5/? Fandom: Fear Street Trilogy (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Fraser/Deena Johnson, Sarah Fier/Hannah Miller (Fear Street), Christine "Ziggy" Berman/Nick Goode, Samantha "Sam" Fraser & Deena Johnson Characters: Samantha "Sam" Fraser (Fear Street), Deena Johnson, Kate Schmidt (Fear Street), Simon Kalivoda, Josh Johnson (Fear Street), Constance (Fear Street Part 3: 1666), Christine "Ziggy" Berman, Nick Goode (Fear Street), Alice (Fear Street Part 2: 1978), Sarah Fier (Fear Street), Hannah Miller (Fear Street), Solomon Goode (Fear Street) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, The Haunting of Bly Manor AU, Not Canon Compliant, Haunted Houses, Ghosts, Character Death, Minor Character Death, Canon Lesbian Relationship, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Smut, Happy Ending, Au Pair Sam, Gardener Deena, Housekeeper Kate, Cook Simon, Josh and Constance as troubled kids, Ziggy and Nick in an unhealthy relationship, minor Cindy/Alice, Martin cameos, special appearances of all the Shadyside killers as ghosts, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, The Rest Is Confetti Summary: The year is 1994. Samantha Fraser recently moved to Shadyside, and she desperately needs a job that will help her leave her troubled past behind. She starts working as au pair at Shadyside Manor, where she is not the only one tortured by ghosts. Grief, regrets, guilt, innocent victims, and an ancient curse. At the center of all of it... love.

Chapter 5:

When Peter Brody died, all of Sunnyvale mourned. As a teenager, he had been the star of the football team and in a town like that, it meant he was a celebrity. He was loved, known, seen by everyone. Sam, on the other hand, had always lived under his shadow, where she had been cold and lonely but also stuck beyond salvation, she thought. Nobody knew her, nobody saw her. They all saw a small blonde-haired woman that men made fun of and women judged and Peter never really loved, did he? Had any of it been love?

During Peter’s funeral, luckily, all eyes were still on him, on the closed coffin that is. The truck that hit him hadn’t exactly been forgiving. Sam didn’t mind. She preferred to go unnoticed most of the time but especially on the day she was dealing with the most conflicting emotions of her life. Peter was dead. Did she kill him? He could have killed her. Was this her fault? Her biggest source of pain was gone forever. Should it be her in that coffin? She could be free now. Why wasn’t she feeling sadness, pain, and grief? Why wasn’t the relief hitting either? She was just numb.

She was numb until the moment they were lowering his coffin to the ground. Everyone around her was crying and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from that awful hole on the ground. That is why she noticed, clear as day, the moment a hand, gray and dirty and stained with blood, reached out from the ground and out toward her. She stifled a small gasp and jumped in place, but nobody paid her any mind. Sam closed her eyes tightly and tried to convince herself it was just her mind playing tricks on her. She’d lived in fear of Peter’s hand for so long, it was reasonable that she couldn’t put it down in a matter of days.

So, Sam excused herself from the crowd, knowing nobody would care about her absence. Her mother was crying more than she cried at her ex-husband’s funeral, and more than she’d be crying if it was Sam in the coffin. At least, that’s what Sam thought. She walked away briskly until she could lean against a big tree in the middle of the Sunnyvale cemetery. She took breaths and tried to control her racing heart. This full-body panic wasn’t rare. She was just used to locking herself in the bathroom of the house she used to share with the deceased man.

This time, however, she was in public. She had to get a hold of herself quickly. That was what she had spent a lifetime learning to do. So she pulled out a small mirror from her clutch, knowing she better check her make-up before returning to her mother’s side. She was expected to cry but keep perfect make-up somehow. But, as soon as she saw her reflection in the mirror, Sam realized she had bigger problems. This time she really screamed. She screamed in terror and dropped the mirror and quickly turned around, but he was gone. The image of Peter, just an impossibly black shadow, lifeless and furious and with a bloodstained hand wrapped around Sam’s throat… he was gone. Quickly, Sam picked up the mirror again and didn’t see him. But she skipped the rest of the funeral, she ran all the way home, and in the living room’s mirror, he was right there, waiting for her. In the Sunnyvale school bathroom mirror, he was there. In the cars’ windows, in the stores’ fronts, everywhere she went, he was right there, haunting her all the way to Shadyside Manor.

Away from the house though, surrounded by nothing but damp grass and green trees and nothing showing her reflection back to her, Sam let her guard down. She was sitting around an impressive bonfire in the company of Deena, Kate, and Simon, along with a few bottles of wine they got from the Berman’s old reserve. “It’s not like they’ll be drinking it,” Simon had said.

The last addition to their small gathering was Tommy Slater. Uninvited. Unnoticed. At least, surrounded by those trees he looked a little more at home, with his red plaid shirt and the axe on his hand. He shifted from one foot to the other, as if considering taking a stroll around the gardens he used to love so much. But that wasn’t the case. He’d been there too long. He didn’t move purposefully anymore, he didn’t make any choices, he didn’t even have many thoughts anymore. He simply stood there in the background, in the shadows, in that property he couldn’t escape from.

Around the bonfire, with lively eyes, blushing cheeks and playful smiles, the employees of the Manor looked much more alive. Kate exchanged a knowing look with Simon and then turned her head toward the other two women sitting close by.

“Deena. Don’t you have some story you'd like to share with us?” Kate asked.

She had startled the gardener, who had been a little lost in thought looking at Sam. “Huh? What?” Deena shook her head, but a second later and aided by an exasperated look from Kate, she understood. “Oh, right. Um, actually, yeah,” Deena cleared her throat and then looked at Sam, regaining her usual confidence. “Hey, Sunnyvale, do you want to hear a ghost story?”

“Sure,” Sam shrugged. She was really cold, and still a little put off by the unpleasant memories that had been roaming her mind the entire day. But she smiled nonetheless. “But I think I told you I’m not scared of ghost stories,” she said. How could she be? Although he was a sincerely upsetting company to carry with her everywhere she went, Peter hadn’t hurt her after he died nearly as much as he had while being alive.

“Ah, but what if you found yourself inside of one of those stories?” Deena asked.

“Okay, humor me.”

“Look up,” Deena nodded her head and the four of them looked up at the big tree next to them with branches that reached above their heads. “This is the hanging tree,” Deena said. “Back in the day, before there was Shadyside and Sunnyvale, and junk food and pretty au pairs, there was the settlement of Union. A pretty crappy place run by religious hysteria. They had the bad habit of accusing women of witchcraft. This is the place where they used to hang their witches. Right here, on this same tree.”

A cold breeze passed by, making the sudden silence even more noticeable. Sam shivered and her teeth clattered. “That’s not supernatural though,” she said. “That’s just cruelty, and ignorance.”

“And that’s without mentioning the ones they burned alive,” Simon added, taking a big swing of his wine bottle.

“Simon!” Kate chastised him, slapping his arm.

“What?! It’s true!” he laughed.

At least it proved they could come and go seamlessly from serious and lighthearted moods.

“Hey, they had their reasons,” Deena said, taking the others by surprise. “They used to say that burning a witch was the only way to guarantee she wouldn’t come back to haunt you afterward.”

A bitter chuckle came from Kate. “I know I got a few names I’d like to burn down,” she said.

“Care to share?” Deen tilted her head, intrigued.

Kate’s face had grown serious very suddenly, and she stood up from her seat.

“For Christine Berman,” She said, and everyone listened intently. “Not that I want to burn her memory, not that I don't wish she’d come back… This is in her honor. A brilliant, courageous, simply incomparable woman… with just one stupid fucking weakness. She deserved better than that man. I won’t even say his name. That disgusting man that consumed her away… Now that’s someone I wish I could burn alive.”

“Cheers!” Simon raised his bottle, and everyone followed suit.

Deena stood up next. “For the Bermans. Those good, stupidly kind people,” she said. “For Cindy, especially. And everything she could have been… For as long as she could she was a really, really great mother. More than that, too. She was the heart of this entire place, and she was there for everyone, not just her family or, well, she made all of us family, really. And… Anyway, I think she would be happy to have Sam Fraser join us. This sweet, Sunnyvale weirdo. Cindy would be happy she’s looking after her daughter.”

After she finished, Deena let herself fall back heavily on her chair. While everyone drank for the dearly missed couple, she managed to regain her composure. When she looked at Sam again, her usual easy smile was back in place.

“What about you, Sunnyvale? Anything you want to burn?”

“Me?” Sam said. Through her mind flashed the small group of people that had affected her most throughout her life. What could she talk about? The dead father she barely remembers and still misses? The living mother angry at her that she’s still avoiding? Or the dead ex-fiance she feels responsible for and she’s still scared of? “No, thank you. I’m okay,” Sam shook her head.

Maybe they didn’t need more of an excuse to drink. Maybe her silence was more than enough. Still, when Deena, Kate, and Simon, despite her silence, raised their wine bottles to their lips to drink. Sam felt the comfort of genuine solidarity and understanding like she had never experienced before.

Before the silence could stretch for too long, Simon stood up. “Are you sure?” Kate whispered, reaching out to hold his hand. He squeezed her hand once, then let go and took a step forward.

“So… my mom. She’s, uh, not someone I’d wish to burn alive, obviously,” Simon said, and added a feeble chuckle, but he went on. “But fuck, she deserved to rest already. She lived a long life, and not an easy one. But she was stronger than this entire town, and sweeter than any drug, funnier than me, if you can believe it, and beautiful as an angel until the very last day.” He stopped briefly, and his smile wavered. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging a little harder than necessary, and after a deep breath, he managed to continue. “Her mind, well, it was stopped working as it should a while ago, you know? I was her son, her brother, her father, and sometimes I was a complete stranger… but she was still my mom, always. So… here’s to everything she was, and everyone I had to be for her.”

After Peter died, Sam considered moving back in with her mother. It sounded like a nightmare, but a reasonable choice to make, she thought. However, her mother never did or said anything to suggest Sam would be even remotely welcome in her home. So, Sam stayed in that picture-perfect Sunnyvale house. A faultless home except for the fact that Peter was dead and Sam would soon follow suit if he didn’t stop showing up behind her reflection in every mirror she glanced at.

Sam felt hopeless, not free as she had wished to be for so long. She felt terrified, not much more than when Peter was alive, but certainly not any less. She had been starting to worry about what the rest of her life was going to look like. She had been hoping for a miracle, an act of kindness from anybody. And that was when Peter’s mother had knocked on her door. For a moment, Sam had let herself dream of a scenario where that woman showed up with worry in her gentle eyes, a dinner invitation, and a much-needed hug. But that wasn’t Peter’s mother.

Mrs. Brody was, if anything, Sam’s biggest nightmare. A particularly cruel mixture of Peter and Sam’s own mother. Her eyes were cold, she probably would have tried to poison Sam, and they had never hugged for longer than a second. That woman had spent roughly twenty years accusing Sam of taking her son away from her. When Peter’s mother showed up at Sam’s door, it wasn’t to offer any kindness, it was to request Sam start packing her stuff and looking for a place to live, because Peter was dead, they never got married, and that house was no longer hers.

A week later, Sam was living in a Shadyside hostel.

A few months later, Sam was in the middle of the dark and beautiful gardens of Shadyside Manor, walking away from a bonfire and two of her coworkers, her friends .

Most importantly, Sam was walking away with Deena by her side. “Are they going to be okay?” Sam asked the gardener.

“Oh yeah,” Deena nodded confidently. “Getting wasted and reminiscing about the past is part of their daily routine actually.”

Sam smiled, but then Deena met her eyes and matched her smile and Sam had to remind herself to breathe. So she turned away briskly and continued to walk. Deena was kind enough not to laugh at her.

A couple of minutes later the two women had arrived at the greenhouse. It was clearly the place Deena felt most at home in. There were plants on every surface, plants of all kinds and in many different states of health. There wasn’t a lack of personal touches though. There was more than one stray jacket left behind, occasional snack wrappers, books, cups, and more. It looked like Deena spent more time there than at the house in her own room. Then there was the bench where she invited Sam to sit. The closest thing to a couch that could stand the conditions of the greenhouse. It had comfortable cushions on top, a blanket, and Sam caught sight of a sweater that Deena quickly tried to tuck away. The image of Deena taking naps in there to avoid life at the manor was enough to make Sam smile.

“This is nice,” Sam said. “It feels like you have a little bit of everything here.”

Deena shrugged. “I’d add … a drum kit, if I could,” she confessed.

“Really?” Sam wondered, getting a little more comfortable in her seat. “You play drums?”

“For a while, when I was a teen,” Deena replied. She was thoughtful for a moment but, looking at Sam’s face, she seemed to make an important decision. “One of the foster homes where I lived in had a drumkit. It was a good outlet for when life was shit but… I haven’t played since then. I was never able to afford one myself and, anyway, it doesn’t bring up the best memories.”

“Oh,” Sam mumbled, staring at her lap. Suddenly she missed the bottle of wine she had been carrying with her. She couldn’t even remember where she left it. She only wanted to find something good to say, but Deena beat her to it.

“Now’s your turn.”

“What?” Sam finally looked at her.

“Tell me something real, if you want,” Deena smiled at her. “I’d recommend starting with what’s bothering you so much that you finished a wine bottle but you’re still pale as if you’d just come back from the dead.”

Sam laughed, closed her eyes, and leaned against the back of the seat. Of course she had finished that bottle. Of course those memories did nothing but hurt her. Of course Deena would notice, and of course Deena could find a way to ask an impossible question and still make Sam want to speak up her impossible answer.

“The windows,” Sam finally replied and opened her eyes.

“What?” Deena frowned. She was as drunk as Sam, but that answer didn’t explain anything at all.

“All kinds of mirrors really,” Sam continued. “I, uh, sometimes I… I see things… that aren’t there. But they feel, um, they are real, to me. I think. I mean, I know they are. Even if it sounds crazy.”

“What kind of things do you see?” Deena asked her.

Sam blinked. She wasn’t expecting Deena to go along with it, and she wasn’t prepared or sober enough to come up with a lie. “My dead ex-boyfriend,” she said, and didn’t give Deena much time to process that information. “He wasn’t a good guy, he… He wasn’t good… at all. But we, I mean, I tried or, I guess I did, I… I broke up… with him. It was, um, right before he… died.”

“Jesus, Sam, the same day?” Deena wondered.

“Yeah,” the blonde nodded sadly. “But I guess he hasn’t let me go yet.”

Deena bit her lip and tried her hardest to find the right thing to say. There was a lot she wanted to ask, but there were more important things at the moment. “That sounds typical,” Deena said.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, sounding genuinely tired, but more and more relieved with each passing second.

“I mean… only a Sunnyvale jerk wouldn’t get what a breakup is,” Deena said. She had been holding her breath, but when she saw Sam smile a little, she relaxed. “Like, get over it dude! She’s Shadyside property now,” Deena added, looking around the greenhouse with her best menacing tone.

Sam couldn’t contain her chuckle, but she was back to looking down at her lap. “You’re not making fun of me, are you?” She inquired.

“Sam,” Deena called her name, and waited until Sam was staring into her eyes to continue. “I’ve lived with that hanging tree over my head for years. Ghosts are… complicated, I guess, but nothing to joke about, are they?” She was worried she wasn’t making much sense, but she was genuinely trying her best. Sam shook her head softly, agreeing with her, but her eyes weren’t all that focused on ghosts, and loss, and the past anymore. “I think it’s a matter of understanding-”

All at once, Sam was kissing Deena. She had just leaned in, connected their lips, interrupted Deena with a kiss they had been dying for. At first, Deena’s shock didn’t allow her to do much, but when she caught up, when she made sense of the sweet taste of Sam, the warm press of her lips, the reality of a dream coming true right before her, she reacted. Her hands moved carefully to Sam’s face, as if afraid to break her, but she slowly pushed back. She saw the moment Sam’s blue eyes fluttered open again, and that sight alone was more than enough to steal Deena’s heart.

“Are you sure?” Deena asked her.

Sam couldn’t fight the need to glance around them, just to make sure there weren’t unwanted shadows staring at her from a corner, but there was nothing. They were alone. This moment was completely hers. “Yes,” she replied with a smile, and whatever Deena had tried to say aftward, Sam interrupted her with a kiss, but Deena didn’t seem to mind at all.

They kissed with perfect excitement, their lips were eager, and they tasted of wine, and the first touch of Deena’s tongue on her bottom lip stole a whimper from Sam. They moved closer together, and their restless hands gained confidence. Everything was happening at once, they were in a hurry, they were taking their time, they had only a second, they had all the time in the world. Sam's hand was on Deena’s shoulder, grabbing a fistful of her green jacket, pulling her closer. Deena’s hand was getting lost in Sam’s blonde ponytail, holding her in place, driving her crazy. Every second their kisses renewed and grew in passion, with Deena’s tongue pulling shivers out of Sam, and Sam’s teeth biting down on Deena’s bottom lip, overjoyed to take the other woman by surprise.

It was an accident, though. Sam didn’t really mean to open her eyes when she did. But by the time she realized what had happened, it was too late and the damage was done. She opened her eyes and right there behind Deena, with his monstrous head almost on her shoulder, was Peter. Peter the shadow, the ghost, the darkness, the demon, the ruin of Sam’s entire life.

She gasped and jumped back and away from Deena as if she’d received some kind of lethal shock.

“Fuck,” the two of them said. They were breathless, confused, and hurt. There was a sudden and unbreachable distance between. They were completely alone in the greenhouse.

Less than an hour later, and wearing her pajamas, Sam was storming out of her bedroom, down the stairs, and out of the manor. Her thoughts were messier than ever, and only half of it was because of the wine. There was a lot going on in her mind, a lot she couldn’t erase, understand, or even acknowledge. There was a lifetime of expectations and lies that she had endured for too long. There was a kiss from a captivating gardener that wasn’t supposed to be so sweet. There was Deena standing up, apologizing, apologizing as if anything would have possibly been her fault, and walking away from Sam without once looking back. There was a pair of teenagers that jumped out of their beds at that ungodly hour just to make her waste five minutes in the hallway, listening to them explain some genuinely unsettling dreams until they agreed to let her go. Underneath it all, there was one thought standing out from the rest though. Unfair. That’s what Sam thought of it all. It wasn’t fair that she had to deal with that much, since she was a little girl. It wasn’t fair that even after dying Peter still controlled her. It wasn’t fair that she’d found the most incredible person and potentially ruined it all because of her fear.

But, at last, Sam had made it back to the hanging tree, back to the dying embers of the bonfire, which she hoped were strong enough to burn one last memory. She wasn’t alone, of course. Behind her, Ryan Torrest had observed her walk past him. He could barely change his expression anymore, but he looked as concerned as he was capable of. He raised his right hand in front of him to study the knife he still carried. He almost wished he could pass it to the clearly distressed woman, but there was no use. He couldn’t do anything, his knife wasn’t really capable of causing harm to ghosts, no matter how many times he had tested it before on himself. Besides, that woman had to face her ghosts by herself, and this one was a different kind of ghost than the manor's habitants.

A few feet in front of Sam, Peter’s ghost stood. He was just his shadow, just pure darkness resembling his shape, with just enough details for Sam to be able to see the hatred in his eyes. “ I can’t marry you, Peter, ” she had said. “ I don’t love you, I can’t, not you, not any man ,” she had added in an impulsive attempt to appease his already explosive anger. “ I’m sorry! I didn’t ask for this, Peter! Don’t hurt me, please, ” was the last she said to him. Before he raised his arm, before he took a step backward, before the truck hit him.

“What the hell, Peter?” Sam said, facing the silent ghost under the hanging tree.

There was no answer.

“What the fuck do you want from me, huh?” Sam insisted.

The ghost didn’t speak, didn’t move, didn’t react.

“You don’t scare me anymore, Peter,” Sam said, not yelling anymore.

The dark, human-shaped mass only stood there, ominous but immobile.

“You can’t take anything else from me, you know?” Sam sighed.

The woman was just so tired, and the ghost couldn’t do anything, could he?

“If you think you can still hurt me then go for it. Do it, Peter, I don’t care anymore. Kill me, if that’s what you want, but get it over with. Because I’m done! Did you hear me? I’m done… I’m done… I’m not scared anymore. I’m not scared of you anymore.”

The embers left from the bonfire suddenly sparked back to life, burning away what had been left behind.

#hellooo important update please read comment share be my best friends #fear street #sameena #sam x deena #deena x sam #sam fraser #deena johnson #fs #fear street fanfiction #fear street movies #my fic

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chloelucia13 · 4 years ago

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Chapter 4: Flash Flood

Pairing: Spencer Reid x female!reader

Prompt: After everything that took place with you and Maeve and Diane, with you and Spencer, you were truly lost. After a quick phone call, however, you realized you weren’t the only one who was lost.

Warnings: pretty much angst, some fluff, language, mentions of sex, mentions of violence and gore, mentions of death

Word Count: 7079

A/N: And on to chapter four! I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and I would love to hear your feedback! As always, tag lists and requests are open!

Tags: @tclaerh, @jemimah-b99

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

“Do you ever think that if our lives were different, we wouldn’t be where we are now?”

You woke up with a start, the incessant ringing of your phone getting on your every last nerve. Once you had untangled it from your sheets, you answered it and held it to your ear. “Hello?” you grumbled, slouching in your bed.

“Morning buttercup,” Penelope’s saccharine voice hummed through the receiver.

You let out a sigh, rubbing your eyes. “Sorry, I thought you were work. What’s up?”

“Have you spoken to Spencer recently?”

His name made your heart stand still in your chest, a sharp pain ebbing in your abdomen that was wrapped with gauze that you needed to replace.

With a small sigh, you responded. “No, I haven’t. How come?”

Penelope repeated your sigh, even matching the same level of pain and desperation that spilled through. “We... We can’t get ahold of him. JJ and I have gone by his apartment every day this week and we haven’t seen him once. He hasn't even brought in any of the gift baskets I got for him.”

Though you wanted to deny it, you had to admit that Penelope’s words made your heart ache for Spencer. He was suffering, possibly even more than you.

You cleared your throat. “Why are you telling me this, Pen?”

“Can... Can you go over and see if he’ll talk to you? Just make sure he’s okay?”

You wanted to argue, to tell her that you didn’t give a fuck if he was okay or not, that he hurt you far too much for you to be able to even be near him.

But you knew that those were all lies. That no matter how hard you tried to hate him, you just couldn't.

So, with panic welling in your chest, you spoke, “Okay. I can do that.”

***

The chill in the air, the heavy overcast sky that covered the sun, and the sharp gusts of wind that nearly knocked you over were all too fitting for that day.

With your black overcoat held tight around your body, you pushed open the door that led to the foyer of Spencer’s apartment complex. The sweet musty smell of old wood and cinnamon hit you like a ton of bricks, quickly blinking back your tears as you walked up the carpeted wooden steps.

One, two, three...

Fifteen steps. Just like you remembered.

Out of habit, you dodged the loose floorboard that creaked, your heart wrenching in your chest when you realized what you had just done.

It’s all too familiar.

As you turned right, the large abundance of baskets gifted by Penelope still laid untouched on Spencer’s doorstep. You sighed, weaving around the baskets before hovering your knuckles over the wooden door.

With a moment of contemplation, you rapped on the door, your lungs storing a heavy breath that you didn’t dare take.

There was only silence on the other side.

Finally letting that breath shudder from your lungs, you began working up the courage to speak.

“Spencer?” you spoke, only coming out as a whisper.

Again, silence.

“Spencer?” your voice was more solid this time, loud enough to echo softly through the halls. You knew that if he was there, he could hear you.

Still, there was no response.

Your lower lip was caught between your teeth, eyes cast down at the floor for a moment.

“Spencer, it’s Y/N. I... I know you probably don’t want to see me right now. Honestly, I’m probably the last person you want to see. I just... I just want to make sure you’re okay. We’re all worried about you. I’m worried about you. Just... Please open the door?”

For a moment, you could’ve sworn you had heard a faint rustle, but it ceased as soon as it started.

A sigh left your lips, your hand fishing into your pocket to find your keys. Your fingers found the key ring, slowly flipping through the metal pieces until you found the one familiar key.

You had never given him his apartment key back.

You had told yourself that it was just because you never had the chance to, but that argument was quickly refuted every time heaviness would well in your chest.

When the familiar stirrings of fear, panic, whatever made your stomach churn and your heart race, your fingers would immediately seek out the smooth metal patterned with jagged, purposeful ridges.

Silently, you pulled the key from your pocket and examined it, lips pressed together.

“Spencer, please just answer me. I... I really don’t want to do this.”

You knew he probably had no idea what you were talking about (hell, if he was even listening to you), but you were growing desperate. Any sign not to break in and destroy any semblance of privacy that he had was a sign you would gratefully take.

But there wasn't a sign. Just the settling of the building as the wind rocked its foundation.

Your jaw clenched and unclenched a few times as you stared down the rusting doorknob, fingers gripping the key so tightly that they went numb.

“Okay Spencer, I’m coming in,” you spoke finally, shoving the key into the lock and turning.

You hesitated to twist the doorknob.

One, two, three.

You quickly turned the knob and, with a deep breath, pushed the door open.

Your heart immediately sank to your feet.

Books and papers and random knick knacks were strewn about the living room, laying abused on the wooden floor.

“Spencer? Spencer?!” you shouted, hurrying forward into the living room.

Of all the possible scenarios that you could’ve walked into, the remnants of him fighting an intruder was not on your list.

A soft rustling sounded from his bedroom, and you froze in place. Your mind worked a mile a moment to process what to do next before finally alerting you to grab the heaviest object in your immediate vicinity.

With a book end in your hand, you slowly walked towards the bedroom, bile crawling up your throat.

But the moment you saw a mess of curls walk through the door, all the tension immediately fled your body with a relieved sigh.

“Oh thank god, you’re okay,” you whispered, setting the book end on a side table before examining his face.

You couldn’t even think of a time that he looked this distraught, this hurt.

Before you could say anything else, he let out a small scoff. “Yeah, I’m okay,” he huffed, pursing his lips. “How... How did you get in?”

Your face flushed. “Oh, I uh- I still... I still have the key,” you choked out, worrying on your lower lip as you looked around his apartment. After a second inspection (and a clear mind now that you knew he was alive), you noticed the multiple takeout containers and half-drunk mugs of coffee that sat on the coffee table. “What happened?”

He stood silently for a moment, responding once you turned back to face him. “I’m sorry,” he rasped. He shook his head, clearing his throat. “I-I’m sorry you had to come over, I mean. You- You don’t have to be here.”

His words pulled at the stitches in your heart, the stitches you had worked so hard at maintaining. The stitches that were there because of him.

Instead of speaking, you turned on your heel and walked over to the door. However, instead of walking away, you began to gather the gift baskets and bring them inside. Lugging them in two at a time, you kept your gaze on the ground as you diligently worked to bring them all into the apartment. Once they were all brought inside, you pulled your keys from the doorknob and closed the door.

“Y/N-” he began.

“When was the last time you ate something other than takeout?” you pondered, looking over at him. “Or taken a shower?”

He was silent, eyes flickering over the gift baskets with a crease between his brows.

He hadn’t even noticed your shift over to the fridge until you spoke again. “Okay, this is what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna run to the store and get you some groceries, and you’re gonna shower and put on some clean clothes,” you instructed, rushing around the apartment and creating a quick list on your hand of the things you needed.

With a sigh, he reached out, catching you by your wrist. “Y/N, hold on-”

You huffed, looking him in the eye for the first time in two weeks. He returned the gaze for a moment before glancing away, his jaw clenching. “Spence, please. I’ll be back in like 20 minutes. Just... You gotta get out of this rut. I’m worried.”

Spencer opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off once more.

“It’s not up for debate. Now go shower. I’ll be right back.” With a brief nod, you turned on your heel and walked back over to the door. As you pulled it open, you glanced back over to Spencer, who still had yet to move from where he had been standing. “Banana pancakes or French toast?”

His lips pursed, but there was a small quirk at the corners for a split second. “French toast,” he hummed, succumbing to one last glance at you before turning and retreating to his bathroom.

***

You were back quicker than you had expected, both of your arms stuffed with groceries as you made your way back up to Spencer’s apartment. Gently shifting some bags around, you twisted the doorknob and pushed the door the rest of the way open with your foot. “Spence, I’m back!” you announced, walking blindly through the apartment and into the kitchen.

You heard footsteps padding up to you, followed by a warm presence standing right behind you.

“You didn’t have to buy all that for me,” Spencer sighed, the furrow in his brow returning once more.

“Spencer, you have nothing to eat here. I just got you the essentials so you don’t starve.” You turned and gave him a quick glance before working to get everything unloaded and put away, making sure to keep the ingredients you needed out on the table. “I didn’t know if you wanted strawberries or blueberries so I got both-”

“Why are you doing all of this?” his voice bellowed, a mix of desperation and anger in his tone. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

You froze, staring at him in shock as tears began to well in your eyes. “Spencer-” you spoke finally, your voice soft and wavering as you slowly reached out to him.

“Goddammit, Y/N!” His voice made you flinch as he stepped away from your touch. “Be mean to me! Cuss me out! Fucking scream at me! Hate me!”

You shook your head, searching his face for a moment before moving your hands to grip the table, bowing your head as you cast your eyes to the floor beneath your feet. “Don’t... Don’t you think I want to? Don’t you think I want to hate you? To scream at you and call you a cheating son-of-a-bitch? T-To not even be here and try and fucking heal from all the pain you’ve caused me?” You let out a shuddering sigh, white-knuckling the table as you returned your gaze to his face. “I’ve tried so goddamn hard to hate you, to tell myself that I can’t love you because you could never love me. I... I just can’t. And it’s bullshit, because I know I’m gonna be the one hurting over you while you forget I even exist. But I can’t make myself hate you. No matter how hard I try.”

By now, tears were streaming down your face, smothered sobs shaking your body.

But he was stoic, staring at you with a blank face, his lips pressed together.

“Now,” you sighed, scrubbing the tears off your face. “I’m gonna get started on the French toast, and you can do whatever you want.”

As you turned to the stove to turn it on, you could still feel his gaze on your body, stock still where he stood. You ignored him, though, instead trying to stay focused on the meal so you wouldn’t be overwhelmed with emotion.

“I could never forget you,” Spencer whispered, his voice hoarse.

His words finally made you look him fully in the eye. You realized that he had listened to your instruction, his hair damp from the shower and a new pair of pajamas on his body. His signature puppy dog eye-gaze was in full effect.

“It didn’t seem that hard for you to forget me during those ten months,” you choked out, biting down on the inside of your cheek.

You almost regretted your words when you saw how much they pained him. Almost.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment, letting the words settle in the space between. Afterwards, he turned on his heel and walked into the living room, his head hung low.

***

By the time you had finished preparing the meal, a word still had not been spoken between you two. So, silently, you prepared two plates of French toast and eggs before carrying them both into the living room.

You noticed out of your peripheral that Spencer had lifted his head up and was following your movements.

Gently, you placed your plate down on the coffee table before holding out the second towards Spencer, staring down at him as he looked up at you. “Eat,” you stated simply, waiting until he took the plate from you to turn back into the kitchen to retrieve the water glasses and silverware.

You placed everything else on the table before sitting down next to Spencer on the couch, tucking your feet under you and placing your plate on your lap. You began to eat immediately, knowing that if your mouth was full of food you couldn’t say something you’d regret.

After taking a few bites you allowed yourself to glance over at Spencer’s plate, which still laid untouched. You let out a sigh, setting your plate back on the coffee table before shifting your body to face him. “Spence,” you sighed. “You have to eat some-”

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed, his voice nearly washed out by the wind howling outside.

But you heard it.

“Spence-” “I broke you to a point that I can’t fix, and I hate it. I hate myself that I... I did all of this. I’m so selfish and I already had all that I ever wanted, all that I ever needed, but it still wasn’t enough for me.” He sniffled, his shoulders shaking. “And now I’m wallowing in my own pity while you’re stuck with having to take care of me because I can’t function without you.”

“Spencer,” you spoke up, reaching out and cupping his jaw with a feather-light touch.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I-I know that there’s nothing I can do to repair what I broke but I just... I just wish I'd never lost you. I wish I’d never broken you.”

“Spence, I’m not broken.” You chewed on your lower lip, searching his eyes. “I’m a big girl. I’ve had to learn how to put myself back together more times than I can count. I... I’m cracked, but I’m not broken. Not just yet. Though I’m probably keeping myself together with scotch tape and Elmer’s glue, I haven’t fallen apart yet.” A small wave of regret washes over you when your attempt at a joke just deepened the pained look in his eyes. “And... And I’m really sorry for what I said earlier.”

He shook his head. “Why are you sorry? You’re right. Maybe I did forget you during those ten months. I forgot about all the hurt I was causing you for my own selfish purposes. I forgot your pain, but... but I couldn’t forget you.”

“I know,” you whispered, letting your hand settle on his forearm. “You should eat, Spence. I'm serious.”

He glanced down at your hand, at the gentle touch he didn’t feel that he deserved. With a nod, he locked eyes with you for the briefest of moments before turning to his plate in front of him.

Once he took a bite of his food, you rose to your feet and wandered around the familiar layout of the apartment, careful to dodge the debris scattered along the floor.

After a moment of walking on autopilot, you found yourself stood in a familiar area: right in front of the record player you had gifted Spencer for his birthday. You grinned at the memory before kneeling down to sift through the box of records the two of you had collected over the months.

A specific record caught between your fingers, and you gently pulled it from the box, letting your eyes scan over the dustcover. The cover art was one you instantly fell in love with, not even knowing who the band was when you bought it because the picture on the record’s sheath had drawn you in. The gorgeous crescent moon shining over the black water, casting a bright reflection on the dim waves.

Silently, you slid it from its dust cover and laid it on the track, carrying the needle over to the record and placing it down.

Without even having to look behind you, you could tell Spence had sat up a little straighter, listening along to the first track.

“I’m surprised you didn’t get rid of this record,” you teased, pushing yourself to your feet. “You swore you’d throw it away if I played it one more time, it drove you insane how much I listened to it.”

“I didn’t get rid of any of your stuff,” he voiced behind you, his voice wavering slightly. “I couldn’t even touch your stuff, honestly.”

“Me either,” you whispered, voice nearly drowned out by the music.

You listened to the lyrics, the soft and melancholy voice pondering if there was a ghost in his house while he was alone.

You wondered the same thing, wondered if every creak in the floorboards in the middle of the night was the man you loved or his ghost that persistently haunted you.

By the time you gained the courage to turn and look at Spencer, the song had already changed. Your fingers trembled, gripping onto the hem of your top and pulling it into your fists. “Spencer?” you forced out.

“Yeah?” he answered, eyes scanning over your furrowed brow.

“Do you think... Do you ever think that if our lives were different, we wouldn’t be where we are now?” You cleared your throat, turning back to face the record player. “That if we were different people, we wouldn’t have broken how we did? Or that we could still fix everything?”

“If we consider the multiverse theory, all of that is already true.” You could hear his footsteps growing close. “There’s a universe that we’ve never met, one that none of this ever happened, one that everything is okay.”

“So we’re just stuck in the shitty one? The one where everything goes wrong?”

“... I guess so, yes.”

You nodded, pursing your lips as you tried to blink away the tears that brimmed at your waterline. “I hate this fucking timeline, Spencer. I fucking hate it.”

The warmth of his presence radiated against your back, letting your eyes flutter shut as his hand gently rested on your shoulder. “Me too.”

Quickly, you spun around and hooking your arms around the back of his neck, burying your head in his shoulder and letting out a sob. His arms wrapped around your waist just as quick, finger gripping onto the fabric of your shirt as his forehead rested atop your head. “I can’t do this, Spence. I can’t let you go.”

“I know. You don’t have to. I’m right here.”

The next song began to play, and the sobs that wracked your body grew harsher and heavier.

It's looking like a limb torn off Or all together just taken apart We're reeling through an endless fall We are the ever-living ghost of what once was

“Every night I dreamt about you. I couldn’t fucking stop,” you wailed, hands slowly sliding down his shoulders and settling on his chest, feeling his heart beat under your fingertips. “Why did this have to happen?”

“Because I’m selfish,” he choked out, tears streaking down his face. “Because I didn’t deserve you.”

But no one is ever gonna love you more than I do No one's gonna love you more than I do

Your fingers gripped onto his shirt, hands shaking with the sheer force that you were holding onto his shirt with. “I hate you so much. I hate you.”

“I know. I’m so sorry.”

And anything to make you smile It is a better side of you to admire But they should never take so long Just to be over there, then back to another one

“I just wanted to be the one to make you happy, to make you smile. I wanted to be the one you loved because I loved you with my whole goddamn being. I still do.”

“I love you too. So much. A-And I hate myself that I did all of this to you. To us.” His fingers carded through your hair, the two of you slowly beginning to sway to the music.

And no one is ever gonna love you more than I do No one's gonna love you more than I do

“But I’m gonna fix this,” Spencer spoke up, prompting you to glance up at him with watery eyes. “I’m gonna fix all of this. I’m gonna fix us. We’re gonna be okay.”

“Spencer,” you hiccuped, tentatively lifting your hand up to cup his cheek. “I don’t know if you can.”

But someone, they could have warned you When things start splitting at the seams and now The whole thing's tumbling down Things start splitting at the seams and now When things start splitting at the seams and now It's tumbling down hard

His brow furrowed, taking your hand from his face and lacing his fingers with yours. “I have to. I can’t live without you.”

“You can’t fix everything. Trust me.”

And anything to make you smile You are the ever-living ghost of what once was I never want to hear you say That you'd be better off or you liked it that way

He raised your linked hands to his mouth, pressing his lips to your knuckles and caressing the back of your hand with his thumb. “I’m gonna try.”

Just as you opened your mouth to argue, an alarm went off on your phone. With a huff, you pulled away from Spencer’s touch and hurried over to your phone, turning off the alarm before slinging your purse over your shoulder.

“Y/N,” Spencer spoke up, making you freeze in your tracks. “What are you doing?”

You glanced between him and your purse. “I, uh...” you stuttered, panic filling your lungs. “I just need to go to the bathroom.”

His brows furrowed, taking note of your shaking hands and your tight grip on your purse. “Why?”

“Why do you need to know?” You pursed your lips, breaking eye contact so you could direct your gaze to the floor before attempting to rush past him.

It was to no avail, however, as he gently gripped your arm and held you in place. “Y/N, please just tell me.”

With a soft sigh, you let your gaze flutter to the light grip Spencer held your arm with. “I... I need to change my bandages.”

You couldn’t bear looking up at him in that moment, knowing from the sharp intake of breath he took that he was processing quite a lot.

You doubted he had even realized that you still had a hole in your stomach until that very moment, and he seemed to be reeling from it.

“I’ll be back,” you stated abruptly, both trying to remove yourself from the situation and attempting to pull him from his spiraling thoughts.

Your words effectively shocked him out of his stupor, his footsteps following closely behind yours as you rushed to the bathroom. “Y/N-” he began, running a hand through his hair.

“Spencer, I’m fine,” you argued. “You don’t need to follow me in here-”

“Let me help you.”

You slowed your speed, taking a few steps into the bathroom with clear trepidation and worry. “Spencer, I can do it myself.”

“Please. I just... I need to.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I-I don’t know what seeing it will do to you. I...” You placed your purse on the ground before standing up straight, keeping your back facing him as you gripped onto the edge of the sink. “I still can’t bear to look at it.”

He audibly gulped, and as you glanced up at the mirror, you could see the reflection of his face riddled with guilt.

“Let me help you with something. Something I caused,” he pleaded, a small shake in his voice.

Silently, you reached into your purse and pulled out the small first aid kit you had made put together. You cleared your throat. “There’s gauze, tape, antiseptic wash, cotton pads, and Neosporin in there.”

His head moved up and down, appearing to be absorbing what you were saying, but his mind was clearly a million miles away.

With a sigh, you began undoing the buttons of your shirt, unable to help but think about how you’ve done this so many times in front of him, but it felt so foreign now. You hated it.

After lifting yourself up onto the bathroom counter, you slid your shirt off your shoulders, bunching it up into a haphazard ball before setting it to the side. Spencer’s eyes haven’t left your form the entire time, a deep line set in his brow as he did so.

“Do you want me to take it off, or do you?” you spoke up, shifting awkwardly.

“What?” he hummed, seemingly pulling himself back into the matter at hand.

“My bandage. Do you wan-”

“I-I can do it. It’s okay.”

You nodded, your gaze now lingering on him as he slowly crouched down until he was eye-level with your stomach. His hands gently skirted over your stomach, a touch that you questioned was intentional or not, before he slowly gripped on to the medical tape and peeled away the bandage.

As he did so, you shifted your gaze to the wall behind him, not wanting to see his reaction when he saw the wound.

But you could feel it. The way his whole body tensed, the way his hands faltered as he revealed more and more of the wound.

It had been quiet the whole time, but at that moment, it was smothering. You squeezed your eyes shut, your stomach churning.

“Y/N-” Spencer began, his voice wavering.

“They had to cut me open to take out the bullet,” you interrupted, your voice meek and low. “They said it would be too dangerous to keep it in, it was too close to my spine and other necessary organs.” Your hands were balled up into fists. “That’s... That’s why the-the wound is so big.”

He let out a long breath through his nose, getting to work without another word. The wound was cleaned and bandaged within minutes, all while your gaze lingered on the beige walls.

Once he placed the last strip of medical tape against your skin, you released the breath you weren’t aware that you were holding. Both of you sat there, unmoving, waiting for someone to do something.

With a touch of his hand on your side, the dam broke.

Spencer let out a sob, his head bowing as his shoulders shook. “I'm so sorry,” he cried. “I’m so, so sorry, Y/N.”

Silently, with tears swimming in your eyes, you slid off the counter and dropped to your knees in front of him. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and propped your head up atop his, letting him bury his face in your chest and wrap his arms around your waist.

And the two of you cried.

***

Your entire being was exhausted from the complete breakdown you and Spencer had, your hands trembling as you wiped the tears off your cheeks. And then you reached out, drying Spencer’s cheeks as well, an impulsive act that you were too weak to resist.

Slowly, you retracted your hands from his cheeks before pushing yourself off the floor. You packed away your small first aid kit in silence, lower lip quivering as you attempted to gasp in some deep breaths.

After tucking away the kit, you pulled your phone from your purse, muttering curses under your breath when you saw the multiple texts and missed calls from Penelope.

“Penelope’s gonna kill me,” you grumbled, quickly opening the messages and starting to formulate a reply. That was cut short, however, when Spencer’s landline began to ring.

You and Spencer exchanged a look as he let the phone ring, his gaze cast to the floor. After a few rings, his recorded voice echoed through the apartment.

“Hey, Reid, it’s Derek. Listen, I’ve got a work question for you.”

His head lifted at the voice, eyes locking with yours. You two exchanged a silent conversation before he pushed himself up off the floor.

“The unsub’s exsanguinating and removing their eyelids ante-mortem,” Derek continued, his voice coming through tinny. “Does that mean anything to you? Call me back.”

You followed Spencer out into the living room, watching as he hovered over the phone.

“Spence?” you spoke up, stepping over to him. “What are you thinking?”

He pursed his lips, turning his gaze to you. “They need my help,” he whispered, his voice still quivering slightly.

You nodded, giving him a small smile. “Call him.”

He gave you a nod and a smile in return before quickly dialing the number, holding the handset to his ear. You could hear the phone ring twice before Derek’s muffled voice came through. “have the cornea or pupils been damaged in any way?” Spencer asked, that line between his brows returning.

You walked over to the large grouping of gift baskets, carrying two over to the couch and beginning to undo the wrapping, listening on the conversation while doing so.

“If he’s taking care not to damage the eyes, then line of sight is probably what’s important to him,” Spencer continued, and you noticed out of your peripheral that his gaze was constantly flickering between you and the floor.

Absentmindedly, you rifled through the contents, trying to seem busy as you strained to listen in on the conversation. You could hear something along the lines of “How are you” before Spencer rushed out a quick goodbye, hanging up the phone. You let out a sigh, shaking your head slightly.

He wandered off, and you heard the kitchen sink running a few moments later. Your brow furrowed as you looked up, watching him scrub the dishes clean with a blank look on his face. Silently, you picked up the half-eaten plates of French toast and carried them over to the kitchen. After scraping the contents into the garbage, you set the plates on the side of the sink.

“What did Derek say?” you asked, pulling a dishrag from a drawer and beginning to dry the pan he had just cleaned.

“He said that the unsub was taking his victims’ eyes,” Spencer stated bluntly, his eyes never wandering from the dish in his hands.

You nodded, moving onto the next dish. This all felt so familiar, cleaning up after a meal and discussing the day’s events while you two stood side by side. But now there was a barrier, a brick wall that you both worked so hard on building.

“Well,” you sighed, “hopefully that will be enough of a lead to be able to pin someone down. And I bet your idea about him keeping the eyes intact will be enough for them too.”

“I’m gonna call Anderson, see if he can bring me some files for the case,” Spencer spoke, cleaning the last dish before moving over to the phone.

“Spencer.” He stopped, turning to look at you. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

He furrowed his brows. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

You pursed your lips, setting the rag down on the counter. “I just... I don’t want you to try and push yourself into work so quickly. You...” You cleared your throat. “You went through a traumatic event, and you’re still coping and working through everything. I don't know if interrupting that process with a case is a good idea.”

His jaw clenched. “I went through a traumatic event? You got kidnapped and shot, and you’re still going to work!”

“Spencer, I have people who depend on me-” “Yeah, so do I!” You sighed, chewing on your lower lip. “Just because I’m working doesn’t mean I’m doing okay. And I've got a lot more I need to forget than you do right now.”

That pit in your stomach grew exponentially bigger the moment your words left your mouth, and the way his face fell made your breath catch in your throat.

Before he could say anything, you cleared your throat. “Call Anderson,” you choked out before brushing past him, returning to the gift baskets.

***

Anderson had left about 20 minutes ago, only chatting with you for a few moments before fleeing, clearly sensing the tension between you and Spencer.

Spencer had tacked up the map on the wall, marking significant points that he found in the files with sticky notes and thumb tacks. Along the side were multiple photos of the victims, along with a few crime scene photos.

Meanwhile, you had sorted through all of the gift baskets, putting away almost everything except for a few items that you and Spencer were snacking on.

However, you couldn’t help but be drawn into the case and the peculiar acts that were taking place. You had taken the abandoned file into your hands, skimming through the contents and examining all of the visual aides on the wall.

“You’re thinking that the eyes have something to do with line of sight?” you spoke up, rising from the couch with the file in your hands.

Spencer seemed slightly startled by the suddenness of your voice. “Yeah, I think so,” he agreed, turning his gaze to the photos.

“And it has something to do with these weird art pieces?”

He nodded.

“Do you think that it could be someone who wants someone to look at his art? Someone who feels that he isn’t getting the attention he deserves?”

“That’s the idea we’re working with, yeah.”

“Well, maybe he isn’t just being pushed away. He’s being ignored. He’s there, seeing everyone else succeed, but he can’t succeed himself, and he has to deal with everyone else’s success while he has to witness it.”

“So he’s working in an art gallery?”

“That’s what it seems like, at least.”

He nodded, examining the map once more. Silently, he hurried over to the phone and punched in a series of numbers, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder.

“If it is about the art, then it’s clear the disposal sites are scattered around the mission district area,” Spencer explained, encircling all of the disposal points on the map that were in that area. He paused for a moment. “I had Anderson bring over some of the files.”

You could hear the faint whisper of Derek’s voice coming through the phone as Spencer walked past you to sit down on the couch. You followed suit, sitting down next to him and setting the file on the coffee table.

“Garcia, you should pull a list of all the art galleries in San Fransisco.”

Penelope’s voice came through, and your shoulders tensed slightly when she asked “How are you?”

That tension released, however, when Spencer let a small smile rest on his lips. “Better. Thanks for asking. And thanks for the baskets. You know, nuts have magnesium which helps produce-”

“Serotonin,” you and Penelope stated at the same time.

“And thanks for the cinnamon almonds, too, Pen,” you hummed, leaning close to the receiver.

“Y/N?” Derek’s voice sounded. “Why didn't I know you were there?”

“It wasn’t important.” You pursed your lips. “Penelope, where are we on the art galleries?”

It was silent for a moment. “Ok, galleries. I’ve got a lot.”

“Focus on the mission district,” Spencer informed her, and before anyone could respond, he hung up the phone.

At that moment, you realized just how close you and Spencer were. Spencer seemed to realize that, too, as his Adam’s apple bobbed when he locked eyes with you. You could feel his gentle breath fanning over your skin, like it had so many times before.

Fighting against your urges, you pulled back, pushing yourself to your feet and walking over to the map. You didn’t even know what you were looking for, or what you were going to say.

A small yawn fell from your lips as your eyes lazily scanned over the map, your body slouching slightly.

“Are you tired?” Spencer asked, making you jump slightly.

You shrugged, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Kinda. I just... I haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

“Nightmares?”

You nodded. “Feels like that’s all I have nowadays.”

“Me too.”

“I can put on a pot of coffee-”

“Why don’t we take a nap?”

You furrowed your brows, looking at him confusedly. “You’re turning down coffee?”

He smiled at that, letting out a small chuckle. “I just think it might be a better idea if we rested for a few hours. Maybe...”

“Maybe we can fall asleep better if we’re together.”

He nodded, those puppy dog eyes resting on his features once more. “But you don’t have to if-”

You shook your head, walking over to him and taking his hands in yours. You pulled him over to the couch and laid the two of you down, your head resting on his chest and his arms wrapping around your torso. You tugged the blanket that was draped over the back of the couch onto the two of you, pulling it up to your chin and snuggling in.

As your breathing slowly began to even out, and you could hear Spencer’s heartrate decrease as his eyelids fluttered closed, your mind began to wander back to all of the times the two of you had laid like this. Sometimes it was after he had gotten back home from a rough case, his whole being riddled with guilt and sorrow and the only thing he wanted was to be in the arms of the one he loved. Sometimes it was after you two had shown the other just how much you loved them, covered in hickeys and scratches with your bare and sweat-dampened skin pressed to each other. Or in the mornings, when the sun shone upon your faces, both of you clinging to each other like vices.

“I love you.”

Your breath caught in your throat when you felt the airy brush of his breath on the crown of your head, his words echoing in your mind.

He probably thought you were asleep. So, to avoid any conflict, you calmed your breathing and let your body slip into sleep. One more happy moment with the man you still love.

***

A big yawn woke you from your slumber, one hand reaching up to cover your mouth while the other rubbed at your eyes.

“Spencer?” you mumbled, realizing that his form wasn’t next to you.

You heard his shuffling footsteps behind you, and you craned your neck to see that he was dressed and holding his satchel.

“Spencer?” You sat up, watching as he pulled his converse onto his feet. “Where are you going?”

“I’m gonna head to the airport. I’m getting on the next flight to meet up with the team,” he rushed out, avoiding your gaze.

You nodded, pursing your lips as you looked down at the floor.

You felt stupid for honestly believing that he was going to stay with you, to try and work things out. he was just going to leave you again, leave you to pick up all the pieces and make everything better.

Tears pricked at your eyes and you sniffled. “Got it,” you whispered, pushing yourself to your feet.

There was a beat of silence, the air still as you both debated your next moves.

“Y/N,” Spencer spoke finally, stepping over to you. “I’ll be back by tonight. I just... I need to go. Can you stay here until I get back, and then we can talk?”

No. Just say no.

“Okay,” you choked out, blinking back tears and forcing a smile.

“I promise you, I’m gonna fix it. I have to.”

You just nodded, reaching out and squeezing his hand. “Okay.”

A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth, taking a step forward and pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek before hurrying out the door.

The moment his footfalls faded away, a sob ripped through your chest. You covered your mouth with your hand, falling onto the couch as tears slid down your cheeks.

You scolded yourself for giving in so easily, just like you had done before all of this had even happened.

You would do anything for him, no matter what.

You were so stupid.

After somewhat catching your breath, you stood and walked into the bedroom you and Spencer once shared. You went through each of the drawers in his dresser, pulling out all of your clothes that you had abandoned at his apartment.

Draping the articles of clothing over your forearms, you looked over the bedroom one last time. Then you looked down at the shirt that laid on the top of your stack, the tee shirt you would wear to bed.

Silently, you pulled it from the stack and laid it on the sheets, turning and walking away before you could take it back. You grabbed your coat from off the coat stand, pulling it over your shoulders and stepping out the front door.

With the hand that wasn’t full of clothes, you retrieved the spare key from your pocket and locked the door.

You pulled the key from the lock and slid it under the door, into the apartment.

#Spencer reid #Spencer x reader #Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer Reid angst #Spencer Reid fluff #Spencer Reid smut #Spencer Reid series #criminal minds #criminal minds fan fiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #cm x reader #Penelope Garcia #Derek Morgan #bau x reader #criminal minds writing #series #Spencer x you

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kimikitty96 · 4 years ago

Text

Goodbye Letter to my Eating Disorder

It’s been hard. The past 3 years were so difficult, I’m surprised I haven’t completely lost myself. From having relationship problems, to deaths in my family (my brother and kitty died), to being sexually assaulted in the gym, to almost losing my mom this past year...suffice it to say, it’s been rather difficult.

I turned to my old “friend”, Edward. We “met” when I was 8 years old, and lost touch when I started working at 21 years old. Or, at least I thought we lost touch; he just put on a mask. But here he was again. He was there for me when I was struggling the most. No one else understood my pain the way he did, and no one numbed me like he did. He gave me the drive and motivation to get out of bed and to go to the gym; he kept me from faltering on my diet and turn to comfort eating; he continued to cheer me on when I made mistakes and would tell me to keep going. When I have injuries, he’d tell me that my initial weight loss was not due to me exercising, but my eating habits and to not worry, I can still continue! When I got sexually assaulted at my gym, he said to me that I never have to go back to that gym, and that I can go anywhere else to get my “Brazilian Booty”. He suggested I take a trip to Vegas and just enjoy myself, then come back and get serious.

He comforted me when my fiance would reject me, saying if I listened to him, I won’t need my fiance because I’d be able to attract the guy I really wanted, that all I needed was a little push. When my kitty passed away, Edward allowed me to grieve and to celebrate her life by going to a buffet and enjoying seafood, on one condition: I had to make sure that I was right back on track by making sure that I would “let my body rest” from food for a couple of days.

Last July (2019), I went into PHP because I knew something was seriously wrong. Edward was no longer helping me. His voice grew louder in my head, and what used to be gentle nudging became more forceful, more frustrated. Here was his evolution:

-”Oh, you want carbs? Well, that’s okay! You can have carbs and use it as energy for the gym when doing cardio/lower body workout tomorrow! Just make sure you lower your fat intake, okay?”

-”Yes! There’s a food festival! Make sure you get your 10k steps before you go, okay? We’ll eat everything we want, just like those fitness people do on YouTube! You’ve earned it!”

-”Oh, you gained weight...again. I mean...maybe you should lower your calories again. You’re eating a bit more than you’re supposed to, so just make sure your weekly calories are where they’re supposed to be.”

-”Lord, you failed an exam??? Okay, you need to hit the gym harder so you can focus better.”

-”[Fiance] refused to touch you again? It’s been a month since the last time? Why do you even want him to touch you at this point? You should just think about that guy who molested you at the gym, since that’s all you can get at this point.”

“You failed another exam? Jesus christ, you need to focus harder. You’ll never finish community college and get into [#1 dream school] if you continue like this! But if you let your body rest from food, you’ll have mental clarity and will remember your course material better.”

-”Oh, fiance said no to you again. You really need to stop having these “cheat days” or “cheat meals”. He’s getting more and more grossed out by you every day.”

-“Why can’t you just stop eating the junk foods you’re eating? You were able to do it before. You’re so stupid, you can’t even get this right. You know what? I’m going to test your willpower. Go out and buy junk food, and stare at it and say no!”

-”See, he’s flirting with so many other women at his work. This is why he won’t touch you. You’re stupid and ugly; you’re worth nothing unless you are at the top of your class, and weigh less than [UGW]!”

-”Why can’t you stop eating?!?! Why do you have the willpower of a drug addict?! You’re nothing! Get rid of that! You don’t deserve your meal! GET RID OF IT NOW!”

-”JESUS CHRIST, YOU ARE FUCKING STUPID! IT’S YOUR FAULT YOUR FIANCE DON’T WANT YOU! YOU’RE WORTH LESS THAN NOTHING! YOU DESERVED BEING GROPED AT THE GYM BECAUSE THAT IS YOUR WORTH!”

-”See? You failed a class you already took! This is how stupid and [ableist expletive] you are. You can’t even do that shit right. YOU ARE NOTHING. YOU HAVE NEGATIVE WORTH.”

-”Your brother died because he had diabetes. Your mother almost died because of diabetes. They couldn’t control; the shit they put in their mouths, and you will end up with the same fate because your dumb ass can’t even say no to a chip.”

-”Oh, you lost another friend? That’s because you’re a piece of shit. You’ve always been a piece of shit. You deserve to be alone. No one should be subjected to the bullshit that is you. You should just KYS.”

-”No, you can’t have that! You can’t touch food unless I say so! I don’t care that it’s been a week!”

-”No don’t touch food! It’s all poison! It’s going to kill you! Look what it did to your mom and brother! You’re gonna lose your dad too because all food is poison! DON’T TOUCH ANY FOODSTUFFS!!!”

*Me, fainting, at home alone, because I haven’t eaten in a week and my heart rate is in the low 50′s*

-”Why are you being an attention whore? Stop your bitch ass whining and go pee.”

*My response* “Bitch, there’s no one here! Who am I being an attention whore to, my cats?!”

-”Yes! Now stop being a whiny bitch and go pee!”

-”Why are you still here? Why aren’t you doing everyone on this earth a favor and disappear. No one would miss you. They’re not even thinking of you right now. No one misses you now. Everyone is just pretending to like you because they feel sorry for you. They actually really hate you. Just disappear. They don’t want you around anyway.”

-”Leave. Disappear. No one wants you. Just take [redacted], and go to sleep.”

Edward was not helping me. He made it seem like he was, but he wasn’t. He entered my life during a time when I was vulnerable and made me believe he would be my redemption. He knew me; he knew what was best for me. He could make me better/stronger/more beautiful/more desirable/smarter; all I had to do was listen.

That’s not who he is. He is a monster. He’s worse than that; he is pure evil that nothing and no one should ever allowed in. He took what I give him, and it’s not enough. It’s never enough. Once I did what he told me to do, he tells me to go farther because while it’s good, I can do better; I can be better. He destroyed everything I touch and turned it against me so that I couldn’t rely on anyone but him. He isolated me and introduced me to his partner-in-crime, Shame. The more Edward spoke, the more Shame consumed.

When I thought Edward was giving me drive and motivation to go workout so I could improve myself, in reality, he was telling me my body was grotesque and that I needed to punish myself because I mistreated my body. When he tried to keep me from faltering on my diet, he was telling me I shouldn’t eat [xyz] so I can be healthy, when in reality, he was encouraging me to binge/purge/restrict/fast, causing heart palpitations, unstable-low blood pressure, gastrointestinal distress, brain fog, increased bouts of depression, and severe low self esteem; instead of being healthy, he made me extremely unhealthy. When he continued to cheer me on whenever I injured myself due to too much physical exertion and would tell me to “reign my diet in”, the reality was that he caused these injuries by telling me that I had to keep going no matter how hard I trained, that I couldn’t eat enough calories so I could heal and recover, and that even though I was injured, I couldn’t rest and had to continue to exercise. When I got sexually assaulted at my gym, he graciously allowed me to transfer gyms and continue to workout and ignore my mental health when in reality...he wanted to keep me mentally weak so that I would continue to rely on him because he made clothes fit better.

He made it so clothes can fit better; clothes I bought, that I wasn’t allowed to wear, because my body wasn’t where he wanted it to be, therefore I didn’t deserve to wear them yet.

The past few months have been the most difficult out of the 3 years I’d been struggling; COVID, finishing school and transferring to uni, cheating on my fiance, my mom almost dying (twice), and really delving deep inside me to come to terms with everything I went through and being completely honest with myself...I never want to go through that again. But I am extremely grateful I did, because I saw who Edward really was. I saw him for the toxic, vile, awful evil entity he always was, and now I get to say goodbye.

To Edward:

Thank you for who you were when you back into my life (again). Thank you for helping me cope with my issues, and for keeping my head afloat; you did the best you could, given the circumstances you had. I was broken, hurt, lost, and saw nothing good in me. You showed me that I can be better, and that I can do better. I just have to push a little harder, and I’ll eventually get what I want.

You gave me something to hold on to in the beginning, and thankfully, I figured out your toxicity before it was too late for me. This is me telling you that I want to part ways. I know you’ll still be around, because you are my oldest “friend”, and I know you will do your very best to get me to succumb to your ways. But like you taught me, if I just have a little bit of willpower and a little bit of strength and perseverance, I can achieve what I want; that the only person stopping me is myself. I can either move forward, or sabotage myself once more; it was, and is, completely up to me, isn’t that right?

Thank you for the lessons you taught me. I will utilize them to fight you every single day of my life. Yes, I will have setbacks. Yes, I will falter. But like you taught me; if I falter, I need to keep going. What was it you used to tell me? If I miss a workout, or eat something I wasn’t supposed to, that I needed to work twice as hard the next day? That’s exactly what I’m going to do. If I let you in, I will tell myself that it’s okay to make a mistake, and that I can always turn my back on you whenever you appear. The only difference between your lesson and my OWN words is that I will forgive myself for allowing you back in.

I want to thank you for all the vitriolic words you’ve shouted at me. If it weren’t for that, I would’ve never seen the kindest words uttered to me by the ones who do love and care about me (yes, the people in my life love me despite your insistence that they don’t). I want to thank you for the discipline you’ve instilled upon me. If it weren’t for that, I would’ve never remembered the drive I have at succeeding at endeavors that mean a lot to me. And you know what means a lot to me?

I MEAN A LOT TO ME!

So I will work my hardest to make sure I fight you every single god damn day of my life, and in doing so, empower me to be the best me I can. And you know what it means to be the best me? It’s to be my most authentic and honest and forgiving self. I means I can finally love and appreciate me the way I love and appreciate everyone in my life.

This is my goodbye. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.

Kitty

#eating disorders #recovery #ed recovery #pro ana #promia #proana #proed #binging #ana #mia #anamia #anorexia #anorexa #bulimia #bulimea #can't stop won't stop #self love

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toomanyrobins · 4 years ago

Text

Those Four Words Pt. 1

summary: an escalating fight between Jason and his girlfriend leads to a tense two weeks in Wayne Manor

pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: language, mentions of sex and excessive drinking, mentions of character death

Jason Todd was in a terrible mood, having just got into an argument with Bruce. He decided to go up to his girlfriend’s studio to get away. She had been hard at work the past couple days and he was getting needy. He came up behind her on the floor and pulled her into his lap. She tried to wiggle out of his arms. “Jay, I'm trying to do something right now.

He tried to snuggle closer to his girlfriend, “I deserve some of your time too.

“Deserve? You’re especially demanding today. What did you do?” Jason scoffed and pulled away. “What has crawled up your ass?”

“You did.”

“I did? Huh, I think I would’ve remembered such a disgusting journey into your body.

“Dammit, Y/N! Enough with the sarcasm! You know what I’m saying.”

Y/N sighed at Jason’s attitude, “I don’t understand what you’re doing right now, but you are starting a fight just for the sake of an argument. I’m sorry, but I can’t give you what you want right now.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” Jason was standing over his girlfriend, his whole body tense, “From any of you.”

“Why are you being like this? What happened?”

“What? You thought the minute we started dating all of our problems would magically disappear? Are you really that naive?”

“You think I'll ever forget you abandoned me. You all did!”

“Abandon you! What have you been smoking? We thought you died!”

“You replaced me!”

Now, Y/N was angry too and it was rare that anyone saw her this way. She was deadly calm, but fire was roaring in her eyes, “I did not replace you.”

“That’s right, you were too busy whoring yourself around Gotham to even think about me.”

“That is not fair and you know it. I mourned you. We all mourned, you arrogant ass. I never stopped missing you.”

“I saw the articles, Y/N! Don’t pretend you were mourning me. You were too busy whoring yourself around Gotham.”

Her mind went back to three years ago. Jason had died in an explosion set up by the Joker. She was sixteen and her best friend had died, and she hadn’t handled it well. What started as a way to get out of the with friends at simple house parties, had led to a wild secret life. Y/N had snuck out at night and used Bruce’s name to get into clubs. She drank anything she could get her hands on and had gone home with multiple men, trying to forget her pain. Once, Bruce had found out, her world had imploded. He sent her away and finally got her the help she should have received when her parents had passed. The only reason Y/N had moved back to the manor was because Jason had been found. She couldn’t believe that he was trying to use her moments of weakness against her, “How dare you throw that back on me. I was just trying to numb the pain. It wasn’t like I was celebrating the fact that you were gone.”

“Yeah, it really looked like you missed me.”

“God Dammit, Jay! If you would just listen to me!

“Oh fuck off, Y/N! If I had known I was ever going to be stuck with you and your nagging, I wouldn’t have come back.”

“I wish you hadn’t!” The minute the words left Y/N’s mouth, she gasped and slapped her hands over her mouth. Jason’s emotionless mask slammed into place, and suddenly he was as blank as the day Bruce had found him again. He turned to walk out and Y/N chased after him, “Jay, wait! I’m sorry!” He jumped onto his motorcycle and was out the door before she could stop him. She slammed her fist into the wall and cursed in frustration and pain. No one would see either of them for the rest of the day. Y/N stayed in her studio, wondering how they got to the point of shouting such hurtful things at each other.

The next day, they had both shown up for Friday night dinner, as was expected on them. Neither spoke, and the tension was too thick to be cut with a knife. Y/N had tried to pull him aside and apologize to Jason after dinner, but he had shot her with a cutting glare and walked away. The other could tell that something had happened, but no one had the details. Tim wandered into the library after patrol that night, to find her in a chair tucked into the corner. “What are you doing here (Y/N/N)? Isn’t it a movie night with Todd?” He noted the tear tracks down her face but knew she hated showing weakness, so he said nothing about them.

“I wasn’t feeling up to it, so I canceled. I think I’ll head to bed now. Night, Timmy.” Y/N went to her room and cried herself to sleep, the guilt overwhelming her as she played the argument in her head. If only she had just taken a break, maybe the whole situation could have been avoided. She woke up multiple times in the night, crying out Jason’s name after seeing him and the Joker over and over again. Finally, around 3 in the morning, she gave up on sleep and went to the kitchen to pour herself coffee. She decided to keep busy and started making breakfast for the family.

Y/N’s studio had been a safe space since she had first moved into the manor. She had hidden away when she first arrived at Wayne Manor, unused to such an active family. Bruce had called workers to the manor and had redid the room when she had told him she liked art. Now, after years of work, canvasses filled the room on all sides. Some paintings, others photos, she had accumulated in the three years. They hung on the walls and were laid across the floor. She flooded the room with Swan Lake, her sad music, and started to mix her colors. The music she played had become an easy way for the others to discern her moods since she hadn’t spoken to anyone except Fallon, Bruce’s wife, when she first came. Bruce and Dick had installed a speaker system in her studio to drown out the noise when she was overwhelmed, and everyone in the Manor could hear it if she turned it on loud enough. When the first notes hit their ears, all eyes in the dining room turned to Jason. He refused to look up and make eye contact, instead staring at the breakfast that had been abandoned on the table. Once everyone had looked away, he pushed away from the table and disappeared.

This led to one of the most uncomfortable weeks in the Manor ever. Y/N barely left her studio and no one saw Jason for three days, before he returned. When he did, he started to act as if nothing had happened. The music had eventually stopped playing altogether, so they had no idea what kind of mood she was in. Finally, Damian was the one to gather everyone else together, “(Y/N/N) has not come out of her studio in a week. Since Buckethead has just decided to pretend nothing has happened. We need to fix this.”

Bruce spoke up first, “Jason and Y/N are both adults. They are both being immature, and it will eventually work itself out.

“Why did Fallon have to leave! We need to fix this, or the family vacation is going to be the worst!” Dick collapsed on the couch. Fallon had finally convinced Bruce that the family needed a vacation, but two weeks before they were supposed to leave, her sister had had a baby. She decided to go help her out and just meet them at the resort. They now had a week left, and it was not looking good. No one wanted to bother their mother since she very rarely took time for herself and was enjoying time with her family. They decided Alfred would be the one to try and convince her to leave the studio at least and eat something.

He appeared in the doorway and watched silently as Y/N worked on a large canvas. He walked over and saw that it was a portrait of the family. “This is beautiful, Miss Bishop.”

“Thank you, Alfred,” her voice was hoarse from disuse.

“What is the plan for this one?” Alfred sat down next to her on the floor.

“Everyone hates photos, but Fallon wanted a family portrait for the sitting room.. Since no one can sit still long enough I decided to paint one and give it to her for her birthday,” she slowly sucked in a breath, “Plus they only have the old one and J--some people-- are missing from it.” Tears started to well up again in her eyes. Alfred wrapped an arm around Y/N and just sat with her for a moment.

“I’ve kicked the boys out of the kitchen. Do you think you could come down and eat something? For me?” She only nodded, and they both stood. Y/N sat on a stool and silently ate the soup Alfred had laid out for her. She barely tasted anything, and she was starting to feel dizzy. Her vision started to blur, and the next thing she knew, she was waking up on the floor and had five heads floating above her.

“Hi, guys. Thought the floor looked lonely.” She tried to sit up, but was cut off.

Tim volunteered for the first shift and settled into her desk with his laptop. She had barely been asleep an hour before she woke up from a nightmare of Jason dying. She shot up and shouted out his name, before bursting into tears. Tim -- being the awkward person he is -- was ill-prepared to deal with the crying Y/N. The only solution he could think of was to climb into bed with her and pull up a movie. She slowly fell asleep again and clung to Tim like a starfish. When Dick came to relieve Tim and saw that he was unable to leave, he climbed into bed with the duo. Anytime Y/N would start to become distressed, they would calm her down. Eventually, Damian and Titus joined the cuddle pile, the former somewhat reluctantly, grumbling about how he was only doing this for Y/N. Little did the Bat Family know, Alfred had called Fallon and told her about the situation and she had rushed home.

#batfam imagine #batfam #batfamily #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #dick grayson #damian wayne #tim drake #bruce wayne #batfam x reader

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it-lives-in-westchester · 4 years ago

Text

ILITW Fanfic

A/N: So PB crushed all of my hopes and dreams....which was also a great motivation for finishing this fanfic. This is how I personally think MC and Redfield!Noah first meeting went. It’s just filled with my own headcanons and such. Never published any fanfics here before, so please be gentle with me. Named MC Claudia because that is the name I gave her while playing.

Word count: 5272

Warnings: Some bad language and mentions of death/suicide.

The woods around the small town of Westchester, Oregon always had this eerie energy to it. Everyone knew about the wild animals that lived there, especially after the “feral animals” attacks last year. Even without the animal attacks during the homecoming dance at Westchester High, every generation could remember a tragic event that happened in those woods.

There are unmarked graves of people who were sacrificed in witch rituals. A sass suicide that happened in the 70s seemingly done by a creepy cult. Countless mysterious deaths that might have just been accidents or gruesome murders. More people one can count who walked into the woods and never came out again.

Claudia Harrington was well aware of the tragedies that have happened in the woods, after all, she had lived through two of them up close. Still kinda a miracle she survived both of those events, she was not sure if that was a blessing or not. Feeling more numb than ever and her insomnia getting worse than ever.

This was the 3. time this month she had tried to make a new system with the stuff in her room. Maybe she should listen to her mom more often with her having too much stuff in there. Opening one of her drawers, it was a pile of papers, that could have been from anywhere from a week ago or 5 years ago. She sighed deeply and started to make three different piles, one to keep, one that was just blank paper she could reuse and one to throw away. God, there was a lot of crap in there she noted.

Essays from High school, Reports of stuff, notes from Ava, drafts of short stories she had written, essays from her first year at college, checklists. Then something caught her attention. A handwritten letter, it was her handwriting she was sure of it.

"Happy Birthday!" was the first thing written on it. There were no memories she had written this. She continued reading it a bit curious.

"I can't believe you and Jane wou…." Claudia crumbled the piece of paper and threw it in the trash.

Now she remembered it was a stupid thing her consular said she should try. Writing letters to people that they would never read just say everything you wanted to tell them. Claudia did not feel like it helped a whole lot. She thought she had thrown them all away, guess she had not done that.

Continued to look through the paper pile. However, the “letter” she found earlier was the only thing that was on her mind. After a few minutes, she picked up the crumpled piece of paper from the trash and started to read for herself.

Happy Birthday!

I can’t believe you and Jane would have turn 18 today, I know kind of unbelievable, it seemed like it was just yesterday we believe turning 18 meant we were finally adults, oh how wrong we were right?

For being honest with you Noah I have no idea what to write here. This whole thing just feels wrong knowing you are not really gone. I just hope you are doing well, wherever you are.

You’re probably not, but hey I can pretend right?

Good wishes, Claudia.

After reading the whole thing Claudia swallowed a bit. She could not believe she had written this crap almost 2 years ago. Damn, it already been two years since it all happened? It still felt so fresh in her mind. It still stung, after finally reconnecting with Noah after years of not talking to each other. Feeling like things would be okay between them for the first time in a long while.

But then he had to throw all of that away, lying to her face about everything. Luring her and all of her friends to a messed up game of “Are you scared?”. Knowing full well it could end with death.

Oh, how she wished she could hate him for it, after all, he had threatened her with a knife and almost killed everyone because of sheer stupidity, but she could not do it. Still feeling terrible about the fate that Noah Marshall had met all those years ago in the ruins in the woods.

The "official" story about what happened to him, was that he had a mental breakdown because of unchecked mental illnesses and trauma with losing his sister at such a young age. Delusional and hurt going back to the unsafe caves where his sister died in a hope that it could bring her back. The cave collapsed with him inside and killed him.

It was dumb, but what else were the townsfolks of Westchester gonna believe. That the corrupt spirit of his sister manipulated him and then convinced it might be a good idea to sacrifice all of their friends in a hope to free her. Then sacrificing himself in the end so he could free her from that awful half-life she had been living for 10 years. Of course not. Sometimes Claudia even had a hard time believing it as the truth. Even though she witnessed it from start to finish. Still hoping she would see him again in the hallways at school during her senior year of high school.

It was still bothering her on some level that everyone, including her, was just to ignore it. Like everyone did last time after what happened to Jane. This time around they had decided to keep contact, but still.

It could all happen again, right? Some other stupid kids finding the ruins and getting the same life as Claudia and her friends had been living. No that could not happen. They had not fixed anything, it would come back. Maybe when they are 30 or something and has to deal with the consequences then.

Looking at the clock, it was around 04:45 am. Looking out of the window it was dark the only thing she could see was the snow on the ground that reflected the moon lightning. Maybe she should..no was she crazy?

Going back was the whole reason this all started again but at the same time. If she knew earlier that Redfield was gone and it was Jane, could she have prevented it? All that damage? All those deaths? Besides she was not tired so better do something that might be effective and not just scroll through social media till the sun came up, that had seemed to become a habit of lately.

Thank god her parents were gone for the weekend, so they did not have to question her on what she was doing at 05:00 am. Putting on her winter coat and boots while going outside to her backyard. Going past the tree Cody died in and then entering her shed.

It had been a while she had been inside the shed behind her house. An old flashlight that was her fathers was on a shelf, that could be useful. After picking up the that she noticed her bat, Barb lying against the wall. That might come in handy in case things went south like last time she thought, then she grabbed it before going out in the woods.

The woods had not changed over these past 2 years. Tall trees that made it impossible to see the night sky. Weird noises in a lot of places but certain areas where there was not a single sound you could hear. Having a weird feeling that someone or something was always watching you. It almost felt like for each step she took into the woods the heavy feeling in her chest became bigger. At least the snow on the ground made it easier to see where she was going, maybe the flashlight was not necessary.

Finally, she arrived at the clearing, this was here her, Ava, Andy, and Noah had found Dan in the woods, that seemed like it was forever ago.

Halfway to the ruins now, you can do it.

However when she was halfway through the clearing suddenly she heard a tree branch snap.

Almost just by instinct, Claudia turned around. What the hell was that noise? Behind her was nothing, maybe it was a bird or another small animal… c’mon Claudia that can’t be it. She took a better grip on her bat.

“Hello?” She said with a bit of uncertainty in her voice. Looking around between the trees, for something, anything. Nothing, just darkness looking back at her. Turning on her flashlight and she started to flash it between the trees like it would comfort her a lot more if she saw something like a deer. Even then the flashlight was old, maybe older than her, so it was not like it did help to see what was between the trees. She tried to listen if any more noises came, but nothing more happened. Nothing felt too of either. She dropped her shoulders a bit, hadn't even noticed how much tension she had put on them.

C'mon, I am not even there at the ruins yet, it just my mind playing tricks on me.

However, when she turned around to walk deeper in the woods she stopped. Two bright lights were staring right at her, with a dark shadow surrounding it, like ink spilling over. Her first reaction was to get away, far away. It was kinda a blur what happened next, it was just her acting on fear and panic at the moment. She was not even sure if she had screamed or not.

The next thing she could see was the stars filling the night sky with no clouds in sight. Claudia looked up trying to catch her breath. Had she fallen over? She tried to collect all of her thoughts in her head.

What the hell, what the hell, what the hell!? Okay just think.

What she had seen was what she thought, right? Wait that would mean…..

She bolted up, nothing was in front of her. No no-no-no. She frantically started to look around the place. It was real right? No hallucination or her lack of sleep made this up. She had seen it, what she had been looking for the reason she was even here in the first place.

Then she stopped looking around when she noticed the glowing eyes staring at her from behind a tree. When it saw that Claudia was looking at it, it came out of hiding. The glowing eyes belonged to a tall thin shadow creature. She noticed that it seemed to be floating a bit of the ground. The shape was like a man, with a head and arms. So from a distance, it would just look like that, a silhouette of a person. However, if you looked closer you could see that the arms were freakishly long with long sharp fingers at the end of them, and it was a lot taller than an average man.

"Hey" Rising from the ground and started to walk towards the shadow creature. "Didn't mean to do that, you just surprised me"

She noticed for each step she took the distance between them did not change. It took around five steps before she realized what was happening

For each step, she took forward the shadow took a step backward.

When she stopped walking so did the shadow creature.

"Okay then….I'll just stand here then, good for you?"

Planting her feet on the ground. Redfi...Noah was also standing still now. On the other side of the clearing. Just looking at her while holding a hand towards his "jaw". Not much of a conversation.

Guess I have to be the one to break the ice.

"Hello….how are you doing?" That made her cringe in an instance, oh Jesus Christ what kinda question was that. This was also the first time it dawned on her that she had no plans on what to do next. Damn those impulsive thoughts in her head. Well, now it was too late to go back with this.

There was no response to her question. Just the natural sounds from the woods like birds and other small creatures coming back to her.

Well, what kind of response was she expecting?

Oh, I have been doing well Claudia, you know expect for this whole being dead thing. Besides that great.

"That was a stupid question, I just realized that" She awkwardly continued. "Maybe you should say something instead because I suck at this as you can see" Could not help herself to laugh nervously after that. Like this was an awkward family reunion with an uncle asking what’s your plan after college and not her talking to an all-powerful forest spirit who could destroy the whole town if it felt like it. It did not seem like Noah even heard her saying anything or he had the most minimalistic reactions to things, she was about to continue talking.

Then she noticed that his eyes were not staring at her directly, but rather her hand. Was still holding a strong grip on Barb, wasn't she?

Oh shit, did I hit him? shit shit shit shIT! No, relax just….

Taking a few seconds of considerations before she dropped the bat on the ground, and then kicked it far enough away she could not reach for it. Noah’s glance followed the bat and then went back into staring right into her eyes when it was out of reach.

“See… Don’t want to hurt you” she tried to give a small smile to show that she was genuine. In hindsight, that statement was almost ridiculous. What would a bat with barbed wire do against an undead forest spirit? Like if he wanted he could have probably just thrown her against a rock breaking her back in an instant. Maybe he could just drop her onto a tree, as Jane did with Cody, better just break Claudia's neck in on swift motion or maybe I should stop thinking about all the ways I could die, sounds like a plan.

No big reactions from Noah unfortunately, the only thing he did was staring at her again, like he was studying her.

Why isn’t he saying anything?

Claudia almost felt like that made it worse than it was. It was not like Redfield or Jane was that talkative in this type of state either, but they were talking, be it pretty simple.

She did not know what would have felt worse between him saying nothing or him taunting her for letting him die because she was a coward like the others would have done. At this point, she was not even sure if coming back was a good idea at all.

C’mon, I can’t give up this easily. I have to try to say something different.

“Can you talk?” that came out a lot more annoyed than Claudia intended to sound like, now it almost felt dumb asking. At least it got a reaction out of Noah, he was now tilting his head and his eyes widened she could see that the colors in them turned neon blue. Almost like he was taken back by the question.

“.....yesssssss...?”

Claudia felt every hair on her body rise. Even felt like the temperature had gone more down. That voice was the same voice that had been haunting her nightmares for years. The whispering voice that seemed to break through the silence like nails against a chalkboard. Still, even if it sounded nothing like Noah, it had to be him, right? It could not be anyone else? Maybe he remembered nothing so she could not even say it was him, because nothing that made him Noah Marshall was even left.

Jane had remembered, right? Even after 10 years and without the advantage of any of her friends knowing it was her. So he had to remember something, he had to remember Claudia, right?

“Do you remember me?” There was no point dodging the question, Claudia just had to know if he did remember. Hoping there was still something of her old friend in there.

This was the first in a long time he broke eye contact and was looking at the ground instead. Claudia tried to take one step forward, this time he did not seem to mind. It almost looked like he was too deep in his thoughts to even notice.

“My name is Claudia, Claudia Harrington, I am… your friend?” She said that last part almost in a whisper, like who knows what to even call their relationship at this point. They have not seen or talked to each other for almost two years. Last time they talked he had held a knife against her throat and then she let him kill himself. What do you even call that? Besides all types of messed up.

"Claudia..mm?" He said most likely to himself. She tried to walk a few more steps. Without a warning, he turned his gaze back to her and Claudia stopped right in her track holding her breath. Feeling like it got stuck in her throat.

He was not moving, she was not sure if it was her imagination or not, but it felt like everything had turned eerily quiet even more than before. Nothing that was living in the woods was making any noises now or knew to stay far away from where they were standing.

She could hear her heart hammering in her chest and she was wondering if Noah could hear it too.

Why did I not tell anyone what I was planing before going out here? Well, they would have probably tried to stop me. Oh, fucking christ I'm gonna die here. Aren't I?

To Claudia, it almost looked like his eyes was flickering a bit. Then he started to float a bit closer to her, but when he was just about 6 feet away he stopped. He promptly straightens up all of a sudden, It almost looked like he remembered something else.

".....leave.."

"What!? Wait What?"

Claudia had no idea how to respond or what to do with this. Was she supposed to just leave? Stay? Ask what he meant by "leave"? Had she said something wrong? Was he mad at her for everything that happened? Was there just something else unrelated? What had she done wrong? Her thoughts ran rampant. This was not making any sense to her.

Claudia looked up from the ground and Noah had not done anything. None of them had done anything. She noticed that his eyes seem to flicker a bit between the usual white, neon blue, and orange flames.

"No, I am not leaving until you answer my question," She said trying to sound as brave as possible.

"Do you remember me? Yes, or No" Trying to sound tough as hard when every instinct in her screamed she should run away and never look back.

Noah backed away and looked a bit to the left. Seemingly trying to avoid all eye contact with her.

"......Leave.." he said again, lower this time.

"No, answer my question!" Yelling back at him.

It seemed to get a reaction out of him. Turning his head and looking directly at her, she felt like his eyes were piercing through her soul.

Noah started to float a bit closer to Claudia, without breaking eye contact. He bends down so he was just a few inches away from her face. If he had been human Claudia would probably felt him breathing right up in her face and smelt his breath. Had she finally got him to remember something?

"LEEEEAVE!"

Claudia felt ringing in her ears that made her put her hands against her ears by reflex. She also closed her eyes shut to respond to the pain.

Nope, did not make him remember anything, just made it worse. Of course, I made it worse.

Slowly she opened her eyes. A face of nightmares was looking straight at her. The familiar skeletal face and bright orange eyes of flames. Which made her close her eyes immediately back again.

This situation is probably one where most would have run away screaming and never look back. Claudia was considering it. A part of her did not want to go until she got answers and a part of her felt frozen.

She was still holding her eyes shut. Nothing was happening, was he just standing in front of her? She knew something was in front of her and it was not moving. He had not hurt or touched her and the only thing he wanted was her leaving right?

She started to chant under breath

"I am not scared, I am not scared, I am not scared, I am not scared, I am not sc…"

"Huh….?" The whispering voice responded

Taking a deep breath, before opening her eyes again facing him.

"I am not scared of you" His eyes widened a bit like he was not expecting her to say that. "And I am not leaving you either," She said with the best poker face she was able to do while her heart felt like it would burst out of her ribcage at any moment.

The skeletal face with flame eyes was gone and the shadowy face with big neon blue eyes was back again. He backed away as well so he was not right up in her face and was standing a few feet away again.

"I am not leaving you okay, not again, I promise" Claudia took a hand towards him. He looked at it, almost unsure what she meant by it, Claudia continued talking:

"You don't deserve this, and I should have come back sooner, but I am here now, right?"

Trying to give a small smile. Noah glanced between her face and her hand. She stretched out her arm a bit closer to him. Maybe so he could take the hint.

"So maybe, we can be friends again?"

Suddenly Claudia saw that he tried to reach for her hand, but then he suddenly stopped. Almost frozen at the moment. He stood there for about half a minute.

"no" he started to say. He took back his hand. "no no no"

Claudia wanted to say something but Noah continued talking to himself seemingly forgetting that Claudia was even standing in front of him.

"Why back?.....worst...no no-no" He was hiding his face in his hands. Shaking his head back and forth. He continued rambling to himself for a while most of the words Claudia was catching was: "bad" "why" and "no".

"Noah? It's okay just…."

“DON’T!”

It seemed like the orange flames’ eyes were back again for a solid second. They disappeared just as quickly and he looked down at his own two hands and then at Claudia again.

".....Bye," he whispered and then turned around to leave her.

"Wait you can't just go!?" Claudia Yelled at him. He did not seem to care and continued floating away from her.

"After everything you did you can't just leave, you owe me something," she said in frustration. “bye” he replied with again. She ran so she was standing in front of him now and he stopped right in his track.

"What do you even want me to say or do?"

"...leave..." He said while walking straight through her. It did not feel much kinda like a cold breeze that went past her. Still made her shudder an insane amount.

“Hey!” She yelped and turned around to see him, still did not stop.

"...bye….leave..." he said again, waving a hand at her.

“I just want to talk! Come back! Please” It seemed like nothing she said was changing his mind, he was on the other side of clearing now. There was so much she wanted to say and in the end, she finally shouted at him:

“I’m sorry, OKAY!” she noticed Noah stopped walking away.

“.....what?” He turned around with wide eyes. Well no point holding back now, if she was never gonna see him again at least she can say everything she wanted to tell him before being gone forever. Taking a deep breath before continuing.

“I am sorry for everything that happened between us two.

I am sorry I trusted Redfield even though you were right about him.

I am sorry that I couldn’t save Jane from him as well.

I am sorry I left you after what happened to her.

I am sorry that you are…you’re..that you...” That was it, she broke, started to choke on a sob. Tears were starting to block her vision. She hid her face in her hands and continued to sob loudly to herself. When her knees started to feel weak she fell on the forest floor.

Maybe it was naive thinking that just spilling everything out was gonna make her feel or even make the situation at hand better.

It felt like an aching pain in her chest like her heart was being crushed by a pressure she could not see.

It was almost painful to breathe in. God if she started to throw up she would just die on the spot she felt like.

Guilt

That one terrible feeling she had felt constantly since the homecoming night. Been eating at her soul ever since everything happened. Thinking about all the things she could have done differently.

What if she was not an idiot as a child and backed away when a real-life ghost story wanted to be her friend.

What if she tried to talk to Noah after what happened to Jane, instead of a mutual avoidance of each other.

What if she had taken Jane’s place instead of being coward.

What if she had just tried harder to convince Noah it was another way to end Jane's messed up game.

None of her friends seemed to understand that. It did not matter how many times they told her "It's not your fault, you couldn't have stopped this" It still felt like it was her fault. Their choice that night was between life or death. They did not have to choose between killing another person or themself.

For Claudia, it felt like two people she cared about died because of her. Maybe she shouldn't feel bad after all those two tried to kill her and all of her friends. Still, she knew all the suffering they had gone through how much could have been prevented was the question if she had done different choices. Now she had the possibility to make amends with one of them and she messed up that too.

God, why can't I do anything right anymore? C'mon when was I doing anything right ever.

“...Stop crying..”

“What?” She looked up, her vision was a bit blurry because of the tears, but she did notice Noah was standing in front of her now, instead of the other side of the clearing. Then he lowered himself so they were more eye to eye.

“...Don’t cry….” He hesitantly reached out a hand and slowly patted her head for a while. She barely felt it, but that was definitely what he was doing.

"..Is..okay.." he continued talking with a bit of uncertainty, "… don't say sorry….is okay..." was he?

“....Are you comforting me?” Claudia did not know what to think, what was happening? Her worst childhood trauma, the monster who has been haunting her half her life, seemingly trying to cheer her up after upsetting her. When just moments earlier it seemed like he wanted nothing to do with her.

He froze immediately after she asked that. Almost like this was the first time he realized what he was actually doing.

“....working..?” He stopped doing, whatever he was doing. Holding his hands together, waiting for her response. It was hard reading his expression, it was after all just two bright lights that looked at her. It did not look like he had any anger behind his eyes like before as far as Claudia could tell.

“Yeah, we can say that” Claudia responded while wiping her tears away.

At least he did not leave like she feared he was going to do. It was kinda sweet, in a weird way. Maybe it was more of her old friend in there, someone who did care about her.

“....sorry too...” He quietly said. it was almost so low Claudia almost did not catch it at all.

“....hurt you...didn’t I?". He was fiddling with his fingers now and looking lower than before.

"you could say it like that" Claudia responded, a bit unsure what he was talking about this time.

"Sorry," he said again to her. "Sorry… messed up….sorry"

He could be talking about what had just happened, but Claudia's gut feeling was saying he was talking about something else. The whole reason why both of them were even here, to begin with.

"So, you do remember me?"

It was a few seconds of silence, Claudia feared a moment she had messed up again. Nevertheless, Noah started to nod a bit. Even looked like he was rolling with his eyes a bit.

"yes..of course…" she noticed that his eyes seemed to be smiling after he said that, if that even any made sense.

That made Claudia smile as well, she could feel her cheeks hurting.

"I knew you would" She finally said and she felt the tears were coming back again.

"wait… don't cry"

She started to laugh at that comment.

"No no, don't worry, I am crying now because I am so happy" She started to explain. It seemed like he tensed down a bit after she explained herself.

Then they were both sitting in silence for a while, what now? She had to admit it was kinda nice just sitting there with Noah. It was still something left of him inside this shadowy figure, now the question was how to save it. She had no ideas at the moment. Also what was she even gonna tell her friends, they were not so forgiving on what Noah had done. Also with the way he first responded to seeing her again, not the best reaction she could have hoped for. Guess she could tell them later when the time was right.

What snapped her out of her thoughts was a low hissing sound that seemed to get louder. Suddenly Noah went away and hid behind the treelines. Before Claudia could ask what was wrong she felt sunlight hitting her face that made her squint.

She had not noticed how bright it had gotten these past few hours. Guess fearing the ghost of a childhood friend might not even remember you were a bigger issue.

"Yeah….not a fan of sunlight I guess" Remembering how Redfield and Jane had reacted to it as well. She turned around where Noah was hiding between the trees.

"no...hurts a lot" Noah hissed while looking down where the sun was shining.

"I can come to visit again…. Next week? sounds good?" She gave him a thumbs up. He looked at her gesture for a while, before he copied it back. Then he was gone.

Claudia walked to were Barb was and picked the bat up.

"Well looks like I didn't need you," she said to it. She also realized that she never really apologized for potentially hitting Noah in the face, well could do that another time.

The woods were not as creepy with the morning lights shining through the tree. After around 15 minutes, she finally arrived back at her house. Going straight to her bedroom and crashed on her bed until the late afternoon.

#it lives in the woods #it lives beneath #ilitw #ilb #noah marshall #ilitw mc #fanfic #my writing #wellll this probarbly sucks #but I liked it enough to post it #sorry if the english is kinda crap because it's not my first language #claudia harrington

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aonrivers · 4 years ago

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Pregnancy, Birth, Postpartum, and Baby Time! (TMI warning) - Part 02

In Part 01 I went over the truths about being pregnant. Now that the nine (really ten) months are over... Labor and Postpartum begins.

Labor and Postpartum Truths: 1) Not being able to eat sucks once you're admitted into the hospital. You seriously only get ice water like they say online. So make your last meal one that can hold you out until after birth. 2) Contractions feel like really bad period cramps. I'm sure there's some women who feel them worse, but that's all I got on the topic. I was numb for them most of the time. 3) To induce labor, at least for me, they shoved this "shoelace" thing up my you-know-what. As I said before, I was swollen down there, so any time my cervix was checked I was in a lot of pain, and this thing was no different. 4) Hospital rooms are not quiet. Between hearing everyone outside at the nursing station to the beeping in your room, you also have constant visits from nurses when all you wanna do is rest because you're basically waiting for labor to begin. 5) Water breaking isn't a "oh hey I think I peed myself". No. It's like a queef then GUSH and it doesn't stop until you and your bed are soaked. 6) Catheters are handy when you are bed rest and drinking gallons of water. Also, you get one when you get the epidural. Which they don't really tell you until the epidural is offered. 7) Take the epidural if you don't want to experience a natural and painful birth. I felt no pain leading up to labor. I did however feel a shit ton of pain when the pain relief ran out. They tell you it's because labor is all in your back - this excuse is bullshit. I was in so much pain when that shit wore off that my husband said my labor pain face didn't match this one. Once they take the tube out of your back, the pain fades away. But my back still hurts in that spot even as I type this. The pain in the spine also lingers after giving birth. Almost like you need your back seriously cracked. 8) The epidural needle doesn't really hurt if your pain tolerance is high for stuff like this. It's a pinch. What you do feel that is considered almost like a quick throbbing pain is when the fluid is injected. It's like a small punch to your back. 9) Projectile vomit will most likely occur. All the gallons of water you consumed waiting for labor will come projecting out of you before you go into active labor. Be glad your head doesn't start spinning. I up chucked three times and had to have myself redressed and my bedding changed out. 10) Some labor beds have built in handles to assist with labor. See if yours does. They helped a lot. 11) I tore two tiny spots inside my VJ giving birth. They stick a numbing agent where they see you'll be tearing, so that's cool and all - you'll feel it when you start being mobile again. BTW, some women tear bigger. Luckily my baby was only 7lbs. 12) You may not know your labor doctor. I met mine briefly the day before at my doctor's office, but never before that. Don't feel shy about being exposed in front of them though, they do this for a living. 13) Speaking of being shy. I am a prude with my body. I don't want people checking out my ass or having my nipples poking through my shirt on a cold day but all of this goes out the window when you're in the hospital to give birth and here's why. One: this is the doctor and nurse's job. They see boobs, ass, and vagina every day. And two: you're giving birth - who TF cares what you look like. 14) Pushing a baby out is not like pushing pee out. It's like taking the biggest shit of your life. You push with your asshole. Literally. And it causes hemorrhoids and for your ass to hurt WEEKS after giving birth. (Do yourself a favor and get some fiber enriched foods because pooping is not easy it pain free.) 15) Those home videos of the women giving birth don't exist anymore. It's pretty much illegal. I guess people were blackmailing the mother. Idk. That's what my nurse said. But they give you a big ass mirror to watch the birth of your baby so that's really cool. 16) Hospitals offer photographs of your newborn (unless you gave birth in 2020). It's usually expensive and I would've done it too if they offered. My husband got amazing shots of our daughter which I cropped out to make that oval baby picture our parents in the 80s got. 17) Taking pictures of your baby in the nursery is a big no no. I wish I could've seen my baby under the UV lamp with her glasses on to fix her jaundice, but I was bedridden with the pre-eclampsia. Hubby saw her though. He says she was just chilling while all the other babies were crying their heads off. FYI, the reason you can't take pictures is because of the other babies in there. They're not yours. You don't have the right to photograph them even if your baby is mixed in and she's the only one you want the picture of. 18) I wasn't told this until it came time... But they push your belly and I mean in your belly button and hard. They check if your uterus is shrinking and returning in place. (Breastfeeding helps it go faster.) This pushing hurts like a mofo. Seriously. And they don't care if you're in pain from, oh idk - THE EPIDURAL WEARING OFF! They are required to check. 19) My friend told me this which I think is important to know... When you're doped up on pain meds before birth or if you're having a really hard time during the labor process (time you entered hospital to when the baby pops out), have someone with you. Have that person listen to the words coming out of the doctor and nurse's mouths. My friend didn't and took meds they gave her and was devastated when her baby came out gray and on the edge of death. She didn't know what they gave her or what they said about the meds. If she did, she would've known this would be the outcome of her child's birth (baby lived btw. He just graduated high school last year!) 20) Labor and Delivery nurses are freaking awesome. Postpartum nurses not so much... 21) The hospital food really isn't that bad. At least, it wasn't where I stayed. I had choices for breakfast, lunch, and dinner too! 22) Nurses can't technically tell you no to taking the baby to the nursery. Yes you need bonding time with your baby, but you also need rest. 23) The chair that pulls out into a bed for your partner is uncomfortable af. They have cots. Ask for one. 24) I couldn't have visitors. Make sure you don't either. It's nice. You don't gotta worry about appearance or staying awake for your guest. Birth is about you and your baby (and partner) and the time you have with them. Your guest can wait till you get home. 25) Back to the heartburn and hairy babies talk. This isn't really a myth. My baby came out with a full head of hair, hair on her ears, and fuzz all over her shoulders and back. At a month old it's going away, but that head of hair is real. And so was that heartburn!! 26) Bleeding after birth is like having your period back, but it goes on and on. It changes colors and has a gross smell to it. And wearing a pad again SUCKS! I do have to say though... That mesh underwear they give you is freaking awesome. I want some for my daily wear. 27) For a week or two, I felt like I was punched in the cooch. Walking hurt, getting up hurt, even bathing hurt (no baths until you heal btw, so I showered). Even now, a month later, I still feel pain down there when sitting a certain way (like Indian style). But what do I expect? A freaking baby was pushed out of me!! 28) After the six week heal time is up, don't expect sex to go back to normal. It still hurts for me but this time because of the bruising and stitches. 29) When it's time for sex, lube up. Breastfeeding and hormones still rampant don't assist in easy glide ins (if you know what I mean). 30) When the milk comes in, your boobs get bigger, harder, and start to ache. Feed feed feed or feed and pump. It's the only way to fix it. And don't be surprised when you wake up and your bed is stained with milk puddles because you're still sleeping naked to easily feed your little one at night. My side of the bed is disgusting, but ce la vie! It comes with the territory (like lack of sleep). 31) Also, sleeping on your side with milk filled boobs is not easy. It hurts. Go back to sleeping on your back because belly sleeping isn't comfortable either. 32) Everything you buy or received for your baby screams suffocation with it's warning labels. Don't let it get you paranoid like it did for me. Learn your babies habits and go with your instincts. They also sell baby breathing monitors that alert you if the baby stops breathing. 33) Outfits are cute and irresistible, but try to resist buying those newborn clothes. My baby grew out of them all within three weeks and wore only half of the clothes we had. Also, buy larger clothes - season conscious - that way you're ready when the baby starts growing out of their clothes. We had hardly any 3 month PJs, now her closet is over packed... 34) The baby may not sleep in their crib or bassinet right away. My girl would rather be on me or my husband than a cold bed. Seriously. They want your baby sleeping with nothing but a fitted mattress that's cold and a swaddle or wearable blanket. My baby hates swaddles and kicked too much with the wearable blanket. She sleeps with me for easy feeding and comfort - for me and her. I don't sleep much but slowly I've been getting my Z's and during the day I put her in the bassinet on her belly because I can watch her and she's amazing with that head support already. When she doesn't feed every 2-3 hours, she'll be spending more time on her own in her bed. So don't be discouraged if it's not working for you. It will happen. Just takes time. 35) Sound machine was a waste of a gift. Our phones have sound effects we can tune into. Google Home and Alexa even offer it. My baby doesn't like it, she'd rather listen to us or the TV. Also she doesn't like the dark until she's actually sleeping. She loves bright lights. They tell you the opposite online. 36) If your boobs are small, don't bother getting the shirts where you pull your boob through a window because it won't work. The shirts with the clip that drops to expose the breast are the best. Amazon has great prices and quality shirts on this. My one from Kohl's broke after wearing four times. 37) I really don't think those smiles are gas like they claim it to be. Sure some are. But when your kid smiles without passing gas, they're smiling because they're happy/content. 38) You'll probably end up missing your belly bump the first few weeks like I did. I kept thinking she was still in there. I mean, it's nine months carrying a creature in you. You get used to it. And lastly... 35) You get what you wished for. Any time I talked about having babies, I said keywords on what I wanted: a beautiful, healthy, happy, and smart baby. And I got just that. === So there it is. My journey, my tips, and my nitty gritty of it all of just pregnancy, labor, and postpartum alone!! There is so much more to being a mother; and that will continue in my part 03,04,05,etc to come. IDK how many there will be, only time will tell.

I will continue to update Part 01 and Part 02 when I remember more things.

As Part 03 is conjuring, I would like to say congrats if you're pregnant or gave birth already; and good luck if you're trying.

#pregnancy #birth #postpartum #baby spice #baby #nitty gritty #child #childbirth #children #mother #motherhood #blog #post #new mom #mom to be

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pidayforpi · 5 years ago

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“Hey laddie.”

Rory McDuckula beckoned the gosling with his hoarse yet elegant voice.

Heinrich paused in his reading. How he hoped that old vampire wasn’t calling him. But without any other person in the castle room, the vampire duck must be referring to him.

Yet, Heinrich pretended that, perhaps, Rory was calling Duckula, who might had just entered the room. He tried to focus on his book, stopping his trembling hands.

“You, laddie. You.”

Rory called a second time. There’s no escape. Heinrich knew he must answer, out of courtesy, out of fear.

He slowly turned around, heart racing, eyes wide opened, and looked at the master of the house in his blood-red eyes.

“Y-y-yes, m-mister Mc-Mc-McDuckula...?”

Despite his constant self-reminder, Heinrich still couldn’t kick off his old habit of stuttering. He couldn’t blame himself - He was facing a master wampire, and his ol’ doctor wampire hunter wouldn’t let him forget how dangerous wampires were.

“C’mere.”

Heinrich instinctively followed the order, closing the book without inserting the bookmark first. He could feel his pale yellow feathers stood up, his body uncontrollably shaking. And he knew the vampire could notice this as well.

“Y-y-yes, s-sir...?”

Heinrich politely asked Mister McDuckula what his request was, to which Rory snickered.

“Jugular.”

An adjective. No noun. No verb. And Heinrich already knew what Rory was up to.

There’s only one thing a vampire wanted to do with a mortal’s jugular vein.

Heinrich felt his heart sink. He remained silent, hoping to buy some time, at least delay his suffering for a bit. Despite being a vampire hunter’s assistant (and a budding vampire hunter), he knew he was no match for Rory. Even if Heinrich refused his offer, Rory could easily force his prey to accept his request.

Seeing how reluctant his prey was to offer himself, Rory got up from his chair, and took a step forward.

“You think ‘Glen Sparrows Hotel’ accept cash? Credit card? That I would allow you two in my castle without a price?”

“N-n-n-n-n-nein, s-s-s-s-sir...”

Rory grinned, showing his sharp, white fangs.

“Then you know what to do.”

Heinrich looked down at the wooden floor, silent.

He was going to be a vampire hunter. He shouldn’t go down without a fight. After all, since he first saw the “hotel manager” and immediately knew that the manager was a vampire, he knew a fight was inevitable. He could tell a vampire just by looking at them. Unfortunately.

But a huge part of him knew that fighting was futile. Even without using force, a glance into the vampire’s crimson eyes, and Heinrich would be wilfully offering his blood to his new “master”. A vampire of this class must knew some sort of hypnotism.

Heinrich walked backward for one step.

Rory walked forward for two steps.

Heinrich walked backward for two steps.

Rory walked forward for four steps.

Heinrich could no longer walk backward. His foot had hit a wall.

Rory no longer needed to walk forward. His prey had hit a dead end.

Heinrich’s frantic eyes darted left and right, searching for anywhere to run, anyone to ask for help. Nowhere to run, no one to ask for help.

“Now, don’t try to get away.”

The old vampire loomed over the young gander.

“You run, and I will catch you. You scream, and I will make you shut up...”

Rory traced a finger up the gander’s neck, finishing with a pinch.

“...the hard way.”

Heinrich felt his pupils shrinking to an unbelievable smallness.

Huffing and puffing, as if his heart was about to burst out.

Holding onto the reading table, as if he was about to jump out of his feathers.

The old vampire duck was getting grumpy at the youngster’s “indecisiveness”.

Rory backed down for a bit, and issued an ultimatum that would push Heinrich against the wall.

“Either you, or the doctor gets it.”

With just one conditional offer, the vampire duck successfully broke the hunter gander’s will.

Pupils dilating.

Heart stopping.

Hands loosing.

Rory knew his plan worked when the gosling’s yellow feathers bleached.

“I was craving for ganders, you see. Wampire hunter ganders.”

The Scottish duck’s imitated German accent reminded Heinrich of his Doctor Von Goosewing.

His teacher. His idol. His father figure.

He could see his dear doctor fallen prey to the master vampire in front of him. Dr Otto Von Goosewing, Greatest Wampire Hunter in Ze World, lying motionless in a pool of blood. His own blood.

With Rory lying next to him, sinking his razor-sharp fangs into the old gander’s jugular vein, feasting on the fresh, crimson blood.

And Heinrich was around the corner, watching helplessly as his closest one had his life sucked out. Alive, painfully.

All because of his cowardice.

All because of his incompetence.

How many times had he abandoned his dear teacher during vampire-hunting expedition? He would hide at the entrance of the castle, or outside of the secret tunnel.

Even stay behind on the Zeppelin.

But the doctor would never blame him. He was still young, after all, and him getting hurt was the last thing the doctor wanted to see.

Out of fear, Heinrich put his teacher in danger many, many times, letting the elderly gander venture into the beasts’ lairs alone.

And now, he was given the chance to save his own life, in exchange with his teacher’s. The key to life was the doctor’s death.

Heinrich wouldn’t allow that. Not anymore.

The doctor had risked his life to protect his so many times, it’s Heinrich’s turn to risk his life.

“Don’t keep an elderly waiting, hmm?”

Rory was getting impatient.

“Keep your beak shut, and I will take both of you.”

The vampire duck crossed his arms, fingers tapping, foot stomping.

Heinrich didn’t need the warning. He had already made up his mind.

He let go of the table edge, and stepped forward.

“Take mein...”

He managed to utter without stuttering. For once.

“What?”

Rory didn’t expect such a response from the person who had just been scared for his life.

“Take mein blood.”

Heinrich repeated, again without stuttering.

Rory looked at the gander for a while. Although he was still holding his head down, Rory could see the determination in his eyes.

But a deal is a deal.

“Well, don’t mind me then...”

Rory licked his chops tauntingly. He didn’t wait for Heinrich to walk to him. A yank at the collar of the gander’s clothes, and Heinrich was within biting range.

Looking behind the vampire duck, staring at the exit to the room, Heinrich could only wish the vampire would keep his promise, and his dear doctor would use this time to run away.

And hope that his teacher wouldn’t miss him too much.

Rory pulled Heinrich into a hug, pushing away clothing around his neck. Sparing no time, Rory located the blood vessel, held its approximate area close to his beak,

and bit.

Heinrich knew he was bitten. He knew the vampire duck had started his feast.

But somehow, it didn’t hurt. Not even a little bit. And he couldn’t feel his life being sucked away. Did master vampire know some sort of paralysis techniques, that would numb their victims?

Heinrich doubted it. The doctor should had told him everything about vampires.

3, 5, 10...10 seconds later, and Heinrich still couldn’t feel pain.

That Scotsman was playing with him, biting with his beak instead of his fangs.

Heinrich could tolerate dying a prey, but not a toy.

“Just get on with it! You, you...”

Heinrich shouted the only curse words he knew.

“You wampire willian...!”

As soon as he finished his first-time cursing (sort of), he felt something covering his head from behind. Everything went black all of a sudden.

Heinrich pushed Rory away, strangely without difficulty, and tried to get the object off his head. He took it off, and it was none other than the Scotsman’s own Tam o’ Shanter.

The owner of the cap was laughing wildly, his hands holding his abdomen in pure amusement. Heinrich held the broad cap, confused, but still cautious with the vampire duck.

Finishing with a wipe of tears, Rory gave the most unexpected explanation (to Heinrich, at least).

“I was just messing with you, boyo.”

Heinrich stood still without response.

“It was a joke! A prank! Or whatever you kids call it.”

Heinrich looked down, with his eyes wide and beak slightly open.

“I wasn’t trying to eat you or your...well, guardian. Both of you are of wrong collar sizes! Not my cup of tea. Or, well, blood.”

Rory continued giving his explanation on his “harmless” behaviour just now, oblivious to the shaking gander in front of him.

Until Heinrich dropped his Tam o’ Shanter, and let out a devastated wail.

Of all the responses Rory expected, Heinrich crying was not one of them. He expected Heinrich to be surprised, to be embarrassed, or even take out a stake-and-hammer and stab him in the chest.

But no. What Rory had to deal with was a crying little gosling, traumatised from the near-death experience, scared of the monster threatening to eat him and his beloved.

Caught off guard, now it’s Rory that was panicking.

Living a secluded life, how would he know how to handle a crying child?

He wouldn’t have to now. Unfortunately.

“Wow, Heinrich! What happened?”

Duckula opened the room door to see the bizarre scene. A scenario even the zaniest duck in Transylvania found weird.

“We were off practising for the Highland Games for half-an-hour, and you are already bullying poor little Heinrich?”

Duckula rushed to Heinrich’s side, patting him on his soft feathered head, while accusing the elder vampire duck. Rory couldn’t deny it, but also didn’t want to admit it.

Just when Rory was about to make up an excuse, the last person he wanted to see entered the room.

“Heinrich? Heinrich!”

Dr Von Goosewing pushed open the door, dashing to his assistance and giving him a warm, big hug. Goosewing didn’t have time to scold Rory - leave that to Duckula - all he cared now was his dear assistant.

Among the awkward situation, Rory was a bit disappointed he couldn’t praise the gosling crying on the floor. Even if it was just a prank, he displayed great heroism for his beloved Doctor Von Goosewing, overcoming his cowardice and fear, sacrificing himself for someone else. Such quality was seldom seen in men, let alone malicious, selfish vampires.

But for now, Rory really needed to re-examine his sense of humour...

(8-5-2020 ~ 10-5-2020)

#count duckula #heinrich #rory mcduckula #duckula #doctor von goosewing #storyteller #story #short story

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surveysonfleek · 5 years ago

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1548.

Zodiac Bingo

Aries Gotta go fast Independence Participant, always Fuck you, don’t tell me what do to *brooding intensifies* Good sense of humor I ain’t neva scared “I’m not competitive but I’m gonna win” Assertive Going first Running yellow lights

People are drawn to you even tho you don’t invite them Feelings = action Impulsivity Creative Leader Competent “I thought you didn’t like me”-everyone Accidentally hurting people’s feelings Shares everything with partner What if the pope blasted cigs? Starting shit you don’t feel like finishing “I guess that was rude” No. 9/24

Taurus Treat yo’self Underappreciated at work Loyalty Great tastes in art&culture Spoiled (or wishing you were) Robe appreciation A vice (alcohol, weed, or comfort food) Homemaking/nesting Continuing to do something you don’t love just because you’re resistant to change Affection via touch Easy going Perfecting a wardrobe that is both comfy and flawless Having good ass eyebrows Highkey sensitive Stubborn af Not even taking your *own* advice Gossiping Lady in the street but a freak in the bed Creativity Spooning Commitment Stressing out over a change in someone’s tone of voice Finishing what you started Lots of venting lol 9/24

Gemini Unpopular opinion factory Secret&diverse intellectual landscape “Oh I got really into *miscellaneous hobby or topic* for a while” Intellectualizing or ignoring feelings Cleaning maybe once a year Look, a distraction! Thinking faster than you can talk Restless without hobbies Talking faster than you can think Reading four books at once Tons of energy Teaching others what you know Trivia machine Moodiness Knowing everything but also forgetting everything Existential crisis “Sorry I forgot to text you back” So many interests so little time Accidentally talking too loud Young at heart Pretty good public speaker Endless scrolling Shitposting Unpredictable sleep schedule 5/24

Cancer Connecting with women “Guess I’ll have to love you with my whole heart and soul” Vegetarianism/veganism Fear of rejection Surrounding yourself with soft blankets and mood lighting Ferocious protector “I’m not going to dwell on it” *dwells on it* Takes child-rearing seriously Hardshell protecting soft ego Feeding sad friends Forecast: mood swings Heart of gold but still a badass Bad with boundaries Learning how to relax like it’s your job Lightweight drinker Yeah. Crying, ok? It’s not a big deal Mama trauma Food = comfort Nostalgia as a coping mechanism Identify built off memories Complaining Very emotionally intuitive of others Big fan of physical and emotional affection People telling you all their BS all the time 9/24

Leo Friendly Self-indulgence Never being able to tell if you’re the best or the worst People trying to compete with you lol Sensitive Decent at cheering people up Great hair Wardrobe swings between hot as hell and lazy af Interrupting Having a sense of honor Not doing something because you’re not good at it Talking too loud Finding dogs pretty relatable Creative talent Super supportive friend Enthusiasm Socializing like it’s your job&then needing to recharge Memes Priorities: eating and sleeping Boo hiss at rejection Looking good even when you feel like shit Drama Needing lots of love Loyal 9/24

Virgo Relating to Hermione Granger Gives great advice even when your own life is in shambles Flirting and running, an autobiography Petty Pretty damn intelligent Loving words/linguistics 8 hours of “studying” = 1 hour of real work Swings between clean and slobbish Indecision Splurging on food Mom friend A freak on the DL Peculiar eating habits Pretty good with words Good with pets and/or kids Known to schedule sex Multitasking af Cleaning as a coping mechanism “It me” Loves self-care but deprioritizes it 0 to hottie in 2 seconds flat Lowkey wood nymph All the receipts Bratty sub or service top 10/24

Libra If you can’t say something nice don’t say anything at all Pls no fighting Good judge of character Leadership roles in friendships Takes up less emotional space for the well being of others Art adoration Real glo up wizards Nature adoration Hates boredom Wholesome Keep it cute Emotionally braced for betrayal Lowkey running from problems with people Falling in love with people’s hearts/minds Investing in your appearance Loves all things cute Always the mediator Trust issues Charming Staying up to date on culture Taking the high road Always putting your feelings aside for others Aesthetics Mom friend 6/24

Scorpio Growing up early Being a new person every few years Black/dark wardrobe Pain is cool Interest in psychology/criminology/sociology Privacy Sexual but not promiscuous All or nothing thinking Intelligent Loner/lonely Taking care of everyone Would kill or die for loved ones Protective as fuck Bloodhound for truth Deep Fascination with death/insanity/occultism Love-hate relationships “idk I’m just feeling numb rn” Jealous or possessive Trust issues Loyal as fuck Secretly soft Gets shit done Boundaries 6/24

Sagittarius Long ass bucket list Prefers to mind their own business Unbothered Nice enough that people always think you’re hitting on them Fear of missing out Optimism Honest and upfront Your shit is lowkey not together Plenty of friends Snobby enough to have good taste Flirting your way into something you can’t finish Storyteller or philosophical preacher “Here for a good time, not a long time” “…rude” Free spirit “Films” Distracted Smarter than you look I’m just speaking my truth! “I’m just inviting a few people” Falls in love with your mind, then your body Blows up the aux cord Hedonism phases Horniness gets you into some shit lol 11/24

Capricorn On your grind Discipline dgaf attitude Stoic in the streets, softie in the sheets Planning ahead, way ahead Always prepared (Un)healthy coping mechanisms Likes structure Prioritizing self-mastery Loyal protector of friends, babies, and animals Basically born an adult Dark humor People being mad about your tough love Old soul Major procrastinator Kind of a know-it-all on the DL Major sadness and madness People thanking you for your tough love People think you’re responsible “Why was I programmed to feel pain” meme Parenting your parents “Lock that in the trauma vault” Either a loner or a socialite Giving advice like it’s your job 5/24

Aquarius Me, an intellectual: Needing to do things your way Superiority complex Gossip Conspiracy theories Skepticism Not even having the energy to tell people how wrong they are Courteous/considerate People love you but you hate people Lonely Outsider syndrome Relating to cats a great deal Hates being told what to do or when to do it Not trusting someone/something that’s popular Being accused of being emotionless Insightful Feeling like the only rational person in a room Existential crisis Devil’s advocate just to get people to think Rationalizing tf out of your feelings Hates small talk Vices You’re entitled to your opinion no matter how wrong it is Interest in sociology, psychology, and politics 10/24

Pisces Empath Dramatic Poetry or music Lots of imagination, fluctuating identity Getting high on being outside (and maybe weed) Alone time “Idk I’m just a lil sad rn idk” Spiritual af Helping people heal Existential dread Pets love you Mommy issues Good with kids Cathartic crying over art, movies, or nature Knowing how people feel before they do Feeling misunderstood/alone “Go with the flow” Encountering spirits On life: “I’m just here for the ride” Drugs Forgiving others but blaming yourself Kindness Sorry, I was dissociating Exploring nature 3/24

I am most like a: Sagittarius

I am actually a: Sagittarius (I actually don’t really believe in starsigns but here you go lol)

#survey #surveys #quiz #bored #questions

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penniesforthestorm · 4 years ago

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Twin Peaks Recap, Special Edition: “...Fire Walk With Me“

Greetings, friends, and welcome to a special one-off edition of my ongoing Twin Peaks recaps. This will cover the events of the 1992 film Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me, in its original theatrical cut. I wrote two pages’ worth of notes for this; I’m not going to copy everything here because, even though this is largely a self-indulgent project, I do want to make it at least somewhat intelligible. For those who haven’t been following along, here’s a link to my recaps for Season 2 of the original series. I will be continuing in the same format for The Return. I’m not overly concerned with “solving” anything, necessarily, but there are certain patterns I want to follow, and one or two theories I’m developing, which should play out over the course of all of this. I’ll place a general spoiler warning here-- if you’re new to the series, I highly, highly recommend watching Seasons 1 & 2 of the show first, with Fire Walk With Me serving as a bridge between those and The Return. I think that covers it; now, to the business at hand...

Part One: “Are you talking about that little girl who got murdered?”

-The film opens with a TV set falling to the floor and breaking- this calls to mind the mysterious ‘black box’ in The Return

-Gordon Cole calls FBI Agents Chet Desmond (Chris Isaak) and Sam Stanley (Kiefer Sutherland) to Deer Meadow, Oregon, to investigate the murder of Teresa Banks, and via the coded instructions of Lil the Dancer, we learn that they won’t have much help once they get there. Unlike the relative efficiency and civic-mindedness of the Twin Peaks Sheriff’s Department, the Deer Meadow office is under an almost impenetrable malaise- the deputy, the receptionist, & the sheriff all being in cahoots.

-Desmond & Stanley conduct Teresa’s autopsy themselves, discovering her now-missing ring and the scrap of paper under her fingernail. Off to Hap’s Diner, again, a kind of “dark mirror” to the cozy RR. In the entryway, under a flashing striplight, we can see the figures of two Woodsmen. They do get a few answers about Teresa- she had a cocaine habit, and before her death, complained of numbness in her left arm.

-Off to the Fat Trout Trailer Park, with its exasperated owner Carl Rodd (Harry Dean Stanton, my one true love). He shows them Teresa’s trailer, seeming more nervous and upset by the minute. “I’ve already gone places. I just wanna stay where I am.” Later, Desmond returns, and finds Teresa’s ring under her trailer. He reaches for it, and disappears.

Part Two: “We’re not gonna talk about Judy at all.”

-At the FBI office in Philadelphia, it’s 10:10 a.m. on February 16th, and Special Agent Dale Cooper is worried. “It’s about that dream I had,” he explains to Gordon.

-Enter Philip Jeffries (David Bowie), an agent who has been MIA for some time. He indicates Cooper- “Who do you think this is, there?” and we are taken into a vision: a room “above the store” populated by familiar figures-- old Mrs. Tremond and her grandson, the Man from Another Place, Mike, the Woodsmen, and BOB. Then, we see the red-curtained “waiting room” of the Black Lodge. Somehow, Jeffries passed through both of these places. He, too, vanishes.

-Cole sends Coop to Deer Meadow, to track down the missing Agent Desmond. Cooper has a bit of an easier time with Carl-- he knows how to appreciate a cup of “Good mornin’ America”. They find Desmond’s car, with “Let’s Rock” scrawled on the windshield. Coop is curious about a nearby empty lot-- “An old woman and her grandson,” Carl tells him. “Chalfont.” (Side note: for a while, there was a band in my hometown called The Chalfonts; I didn’t know the reference then, but I wish I had.)

-And with that, suddenly, we’re in Twin Peaks, WA, one year later, and somehow, in this part of the Pacific Northwest in the middle of February, the deciduous trees have all their leaves and the grass is green...

-Donna Heyward is played here by Moira Kelly, replacing Lara Flynn Boyle. She does a great job, and is arguably more believable as a high-school student, but I kinda miss Boyle’s icy edge. I do love the way she talks about James Hurley, wistfully saying how true his love for Laura is...

-Key moments: 1) Laura giving the diary, and trying to explain BOB, to poor Harold Smith, who isn’t equipped to handle any of this. 2) Cooper, in conversation with Albert Rosenfield, theorizing that Teresa Banks’ killer will strike again, and describing his next potential victim in ways that parallel Laura’s situation. (Albert: “You’re describing half the teenage girls in America.”) 3) Laura meeting Mrs. Tremond/Chalfont and her grandson, which leads her to the discovery that BOB is possessing her father Leland.

Part Three: “The football is empty.”

-Laura’s dream: On the table in the Red Room, she sees Teresa Banks’ jade ring. The Man from Another Place is there, and so is Agent Cooper. Coop warns her, “Don’t take the ring, Laura.” Then she finds herself back in her own bed, with Annie Blackburn laying next to her, covered in blood but alive. Annie explains that “the good Dale” is trapped in the Lodge, telling Laura to write it in her diary. Just before Laura wakes up, she sees herself in the doorway of the room “above the store”, shown in the photograph Mrs. Tremond gave her.

-Bobby Briggs sets up his next score, calling Leo Johnson and Jacques Renault.

-Laura is off to drown her sorrows at the Roadhouse/Bang Bang Bar, where she meets the Log Lady. (I love that Margaret is apparently a regular at the Roadhouse.) Log Lady places her hand on Laura’s forehead, and tells her: “When this kind of fire starts, it is very hard to put out. The tender boughs of innocence burn first, and the wind rises, and then all goodness is in jeopardy.” Inside, Laura weeps as Julee Cruise sings.

-Donna, angry at being shut out, has followed her here. I noticed, standing next to her at the bar, James Hurley’s biker friend Joey Paulsen, who makes a few appearances in the series.

-Jacques Renault sends two punters to Laura’s table, and Donna follows. Laura tries to get rid of her, but then lets her join in. All four, plus Jacques, leave the Roadhouse for a place across the Canadian border. Ronette Pulaski is here, and the link is established between Laura, Ronette, and Teresa Banks. Ronette laughingly points out poor Donna, who has picked up Laura’s jacket, laying over a table as one of Laura’s “customers” has his way with her. Laura immediately rushes to her rescue, screaming, “Don’t ever wear my stuff!” (If only Donna had stayed with the nice biker boy...) As they leave, there is a shot of cigarette butts and empty bottles piled all over the floor.

Part Four: “You always hurt the ones you love.”

-Leland picks Laura up from Donna’s house, and Mike the One-Armed Man nearly crashes into their car on the highway, shouting at Laura. On his hand is the jade ring. Leland flashes back to his meetings with Teresa Banks, his discovery that Laura and Ronette were her ‘friends’, and his subsequent slaying of Teresa.

-Bobby and Laura, drunk and high in the woods, are met by none other than the deputy from Deer Meadow. He reaches into his jacket and Bobby panics and shoots him. Laura, completely out of it, keeps repeating, “You killed Mike!”

-That night, Sarah Palmer has a vision of a white horse. She knows something is wrong, but she has been powerless to stop it.

-At school, Laura is utterly miserable; by the end of the afternoon, she is sobbing quietly at her desk. When she gets up to leave, the camera lingers on the empty seat.

-That night, James takes Laura into the woods. She tries to push him away, to break everything off, but he keeps coming back. This is the heart of it: Laura believes that she is evil, that she is unworthy of love, but James, solid-gold sweet James, loves her anyway, even as he watches her run away into the trees.

-A few notable things about the final sequence: Leo refusing to untie either girl as he leaves; the One-Armed Man prowling around the train car; and Ronette Pulaski seeing the vision of the angel from the painting in Laura’s room. Also interesting in that it’s much more “abstract” than, for example, Maddy Ferguson’s murder in S2:E8. I’m not sure which is worse.

-And we end with Laura in the Lodge, in her beautiful black gown, with Agent Dale Cooper comforting her as the angel hovers above. Sheryl Lee’s face is absolutely heartbreaking--’ecstasy’ not in the popular sense of ‘extreme happiness’, but actual catharsis, as she passes from one world to the next.

#watching twin peaks again #recap #fire walk with me #long post

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clibmmountain · 4 years ago

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Masturbation ruined a lifetime

I am a computer practitioner. I work in the face of computers all the year round and work very idle. As a result, I have too much time and opportunity to get in touch with pornography on the Internet. Pornographic movies and pictures are constantly eroding me, making me unable to extricate myself. Many times I can only numb myself through masturbation and seek that short-term stimulation. When I was very young, I was very evil and lustful. I often peeped into women and eavesdropped on the moans that others made when they went to the house. Masturbation is like addiction, and it is addictive. When you want to masturbate, it is like a drug addiction. The heartbeat speeds up and the heart is uncomfortable. Only masturbation can calm the heart. The history of masturbation in the past decade has made me miserable. I am afraid of contacting and talking with women in my daily life. I feel extremely inferior.

Work and life are affected by this, and it is very unsatisfactory. Living all day in complaining, I always feel that it is meaningless to live, and I have tried to commit suicide for this meaningless life many times. In learning, due to the influence of perennial masturbation, the memory is declining, and I can’t remember anything, and I can’t persist in learning. In the family, it is very easy to be irritable, often angry and sulking. Suddenly thinking to a certain degree is suicide, such as jumping off a tall building, letting a car crash to death, or hiding in a secret place to drink poison to commit suicide, etc., all kinds of suicidal thoughts are turning around in my mind every day. I thought that I would be able to relieve all my worries and troubles by killing myself, and the pain of suicide was only that moment. No wonder so many people jumped off the building or drank pesticides to commit suicide every day, and suddenly they could understand them. Until one day, I saw a message about the end of the suicide:

Those who committed suicide will be reported after the death of the king. A person with natural eyes found that after the sentence was pronounced, the suicidal person was taken to the scene of suicide by a ghost. He (she) originally had a 70-year-old Yang Shou, but he killed himself when he was 40 years old, then he should have 30 years of Yang Shou, and the debts that should be paid in 30 years have not been repaid, nor should there be any blessings. Dispel. In this way, the spirit who committed suicide must return to the place of suicide and repeat the suicide procedure every day. For example, if he (she) jumps from a building, then he (she) will repeat the action of jumping from there every day (there is another saying that it repeats every seven days). He could not leave until his or her original Yangshou had finished. After leaving, it is time to go to hell! Because suicide is going to hell, I don’t know how long it will be before the hell is paid off before I can leave. After leaving hell, more students were born as beasts or crippled people. And the suicide karma of the previous life will always follow the afterlife, some people will kill themselves all the life, terrible! The “seed” of suicide will always follow that spirituality, and always follow, so don’t ever commit suicide, you can’t commit suicide at all, that is the abyss that can never be defeated! (A female netizen with yin and yang eyes said that she always saw the suicide man upstairs repeating suicide every day, seeing her as mentally devastated, and finally had to move away from the residence.)

After reading this news, I was really scared. Since then, the idea of suicide has been completely eliminated, because suicide was originally intended to relieve the pain of the world, but I did not expect that the pain after death was tens of thousands of times ago. And God has also said that the suicide is blasphemy, the soul will be lost after death, and the eternal life shall not be transcendent. I believe it. I will never dare to have suicidal thoughts again. I must live well no matter what. Although I have to suffer a lot of pain and annoyance during my life, it is better than suicide.

I didn’t even think about it, when I didn’t have the confidence to quit the habit of masturbation. One day at noon, when I was eating, God opened me up with a sentence that my wife said: It was more than twelve o’clock last night. When I was sleeping, I yelled again and scared her to death. I didn’t understand what to say, it seemed painful. This sentence deeply hurts my heart, I feel how much pain my soul is suffering! I often yell in my sleep, sometimes crying. Sometimes it feels like I have been running away all the time. Many times I can feel that my soul has been falling or rising. I want to struggle, but I can’t. With the reminder of my wife’s sentence, I can feel that my soul is suffering in my sleep. I was terrified. Immediately search the Internet for information about sleeping and yelling. One message looks like this:

Because you masturbate during the day, there will be a shadow when you sleep at night to seize your soul to suffer in hell, many people who masturbate are like this, the reason why you have to take your soul to hell before you die. Severe masturbation, because the sin karma is too big, and it is already a crime that will be punished in hell after death. If you continue to masturbate, you will make the crime more serious. If you have to take the person in the sun, you will be punished to pay off. The suffering of hell in immense calamity, not only you go to hell for punishment in the night in the sun, but also go to hell to suffer longer and more painful results after death, quit masturbation as soon as possible, the crime of hell has gradually approached your eyes .

After reading this message, I was stunned. Although I was not sure if this was the case, I felt very much like it. My soul was often tortured. In sleep, I often felt that I was crying. , Roaring, frightened. But I never understood the reason. Looking at this now, like a wake-up in a dream, it is very likely to be the case, and on weekdays I often suffer from insomnia, headache, eye pain, panic, irritability, and often a sudden heartache like acupuncture. I used to masturbate to numb myself. I felt that this would make my heart feel better. After masturbating, people would be very tired, and then I could sleep better. But often after going to sleep, there will be strange experiences. The ears seem to be able to hear the sound of another world, and the sound is very clear and clear. The soul can always have a particularly keen sense. More often, it is still pressed by ghosts and panting. But he was struggling. It should be that after I masturbated, my vitality was seriously hurt, my energy and yang weakened, and it was easy to attract the entanglement of the ghost. Then after dawn, people will feel very tired all day long (there wouldn’t be such a feeling in normal sex), living all day in self-blame and hating themselves. I feel that I am particularly filthy, and masturbating is a very vain and meaningless thing, but I can’t restrain it, and I will repeat it again. Such repetition has been binding me for more than ten years. I have been too tired to live for more than ten years. All the blessings are damaged by masturbation, and everything is not smooth, work is not smooth, love is not smooth, and family life is not smooth. Later, I found a lot of information on the punishment of masturbation to hell on the Internet. The excerpt is as follows:

Among the acts that the Lord regards as unpleasant, one of the most terrifying is about the depravity of the sex … He who goes to sex to go to the hell. Therefore, the heavenly master indulges the shameful lust by them. Their women turned cis-uses into reversal-uses; so did men, abandoning women’s cis-uses, craving each other, craving each other, and men and men doing shameful things, and deserving of it for themselves. Retribution. Since they deliberately did not know God, God let them have evil spirits and do those unreasonable things; filled with all kinds of injustice, evil, greed, and viciousness (note: or as “sinister”), full of envy. , Murder, competition, deceit, poisonous hatred, but also slander, people behind, hate God (note: or “to be hated by God”), insulting people, arrogant, boastful, fabricated Wicked, parental, ignorant, covenant, unaffiliated, merciless. Although they knew that God decided that those who did such things should die, they not only did it themselves, but also liked others to do it.

(1) One of Heterosexual Hell

(2) Hell 2 of Heterosexual Crime

I saw in hell that those who committed sexual crimes (including homosexuality, masturbation, infidelity to spouses, etc.) were tortured by the devil. The male penis swelled to the size of his head, and the devil kept piercing with a knife. This pain is constantly repeated, never ending.

(3) Masturbation (masturbation) addiction

The limbs of a man and a woman are stretched like frogs, and the demons pierce their private parts with about 2-3 meters long, sharpened wood, making a piercing sound of “Boo! Boom!” The devil grinned, no matter the blood sprayed from the body was splashed, it continued to stab…

(4) Those who are unfaithful to marriage

I saw a deep pit in hell, full of married men who were unfaithful to their partners. There were more than ten demons there. They grinned and took black scissors like a tailor’s scissors and cut these men’s penis into 1 cm and 1 cm pieces. People screamed in the flames, screaming for mercy. This place is full of fire. If someone climbs up and wants to go out, they will be shoveled back into the fire and will not be allowed to leave. I thought: “This place is really terrible and terrifying. You are thirsty, you are hungry, you are tired, you want to sleep, you can’t get anything, and you can’t sleep.” 　　

　　These people are trapped in hell, forever and forever, without end, this is the saddest thing I feel in hell. Only in hell did I realize the value of eternal life. Without eternal life, I would be there forever and forever.

The Bible records that the fire of hell is indestructible, and the worm is immortal. It seems that the punishment of crime in hell is repeated and repeated. One cannot die even if one wants to die, because the soul does not die. Seeing this, I was really scared. I must make up my mind to get rid of the sinful habit of masturbation. First of all, I have to rely on God to seek things that love positives and no longer love things that are beautiful and erotic. Have awe of God, can thoroughly hate the devil and evil spirit and betray it, betray your own physical preferences. Stay away from pornographic movies and pictures. I used to put my phone on the bed when I was sleeping. When I couldn’t sleep, I always picked up my phone to watch pornographic movies or pictures. Then you can’t control the masturbation and go to sleep. Now you must put your mobile phone on a distant desktop when you go to sleep. You will never touch your mobile phone after sleeping at night. No matter how the evil devil disturbs me, I will betray it and no longer be under its control. In order to avoid the tricks, the momentary stimulation of masturbation is actually the devil is the bait. Let you enjoy the momentary stimulation, and eventually it will devour your soul and lure you into hell to be tortured forever. Oh my god, what a mystery this is. I hope that more people like me who are bound by masturbation, the evil and dirty ghost, can quit completely and live in the sun as soon as possible.

　Now I feel that it makes sense to live every day. I pay attention to my eyes every day. I used to have insomnia. My eyes are red every day and I feel sore all day long. Now the eyes are bright again, there are not so many bloodshot eyes. And there are many important things to do, such as learning English and music. Live alive and return to God’s salvation to be a useful person.

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