#god i for real mean slow burn like this is gonna feel like a gen fic for just about forever

[angelofdarknessss]

Beautiful Sinner

Prologue: 2/2 Previous part: prologue 1/2 Next Parts: CH-1 Word Count: 3,719 Main Pairing: Toko Fukawa x gen!neautral reader Summary: You meet the headmaster and realize how much danger you and your classmates are in. Author note: Again, This is a slow burn long-fic! Please keep in mind that the reader won't romantically converse with Toko at the very beginning!. Not much I wanna say here! Happy thanksgiving to you all!

You all started to hear an unfamiliar voice. The voice came from the tv screen on the wall…what was shown was a silhouette of a…teddy bear?

“Ahem! Ahem! Testing, testing! Mike check, one two! This is a test of the school broadcast system! Am I on? Can everyone hear me? Okay, well then…!”

The mystery voice sounded so playful yet dangerous. So calm and unconcerned…Who exactly was this? You felt a deep, unnerving dread at the sound of it. It seems like Makoto felt the same way as his eyes were glued onto the screen.

“Ahh, to all incoming students! I would like to begin the entrance ceremony at…right now! Please make your way to the gymnasium at your earliest convenience…That’s all. I’ll be waiting!” Then the screen cut off. Nothing but silence filled the room.

“…….”

“What. The. Hell was that just now?” Junko said anxiously.

“Well then, if you’ll excuse me…” Byakuya said before walking out the room calmly. You don’t understand how he could just willingly leave like that after watching that very suspicious announcement. That guy is insane.

“Wait! You’re just gonna leave like that?!” You yell at him. He turns to look at you with a look of disdain. “It’s better than sitting here looking like fools. Goodbye.” He then leaves us.

“Ohh yeah, now I get it! This whole thing was just to get us all pumped for the entrance ceremony!” Yasuhiro lets out a sigh of relief. “Man, thank god it was all a joke. I’d totally be freaked if this was real!”

“Seriously, Yasuhiro? You too?” You look at him with disappointment. “What? It’s obvious, isn’t it? Anyways, I’ll head out too. Wonder what they got planned for us next…” He says before leaving just as Byakuya did.

Right after him followed Leon, Chihiro, Celeste Toko. All who was left was Me, Makoto, Hifumi, Kyoko, Aoi, Sakura, Sayaka, Mondo and Junko. That disturbed feeling you had before.. you couldn’t get it out of your mind. And it looked like you weren’t the only one…

“This…this doesn’t seem right.” Sayaka nervously stated.

“Yeah, that announcement was totally weird.” Junko followed up.

“Maybe, but just staying put doesn’t mean we’ll be safe.” Kyoko bluntly said. “Besides, aren’t you guys just a little curious to find out what’s going on around here?”

You bit your lip. She was right. “Well. Yes, but… how do we know we aren’t just walking into some trap? That didn’t look normal.” You expressed.

Sakura crossed her arms. “If we do not move forward, we learn nothing. The only choice is to push ahead.”

‘I…I guess she’s right.” Makoto shakenly replied. You patted him on his shoulder. “You nervous too?” He just nods. “Yea… how’d you know?” “…I can see you’re shaking.”

Makoto lets out a flustered laugh. “Oh. I am.”

“It’ll be okay.. I think.. that doesn’t stop me from being nervous though. But.. I know we don’t have a choice. We have to go.”

Makoto looks at you for a moment before nodding. “You’re right. They said to go to the gym, right?”

With that, we all headed out of the room and back into the main hallway. We looked towards our left and spotted closed double doors with a sign labeled “gym” above it. Makoto and I nervously walked towards it and headed inside the room. Inside were multiple trophies and banners that hung towards the left of us.

Mondo huffed irritably. “God, I had no idea this Hope’s Peak Academy place was gonna be such a pain in my balls. It really ain’t that much different from the time I spent in juvie. Hell, this place is even worse!”

“Right... it’s like a maze in here. And most importantly... where’s the other students? Why is it just the 17 of us here in this massive school?” You spoke. Sayaka hummed in agreement.

“Isn’t that like, seriously not good?” Junko said nervously. “Th-They’re just trying to spook us! They’ll take those metal plates down later, I’m sure of it…” Taka said, also nervously. If he was trying keep his composure, it really didn’t show right now.

“All we can do now is hope for the best and prepare for the worst. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.” Sakura stated.

“Well, hell, it ain’t like I’m scared or nothin’. Let’s just get this over with!” Mondo angrily says, very clearly just as scared and nervous as we are. “Hey! Where’s whoever called us here!?” He then storms right into the gym. Taka followed him yelling “Mondo, stop! No running!” Sakura and Hifumi soon followed those two.

Now, it was just you, Junko, Sayaka, Kyoko and Makoto.

“Well… should we…?” He looks at you with uncertainty. You can still feel his nervousness radiating from him, and you cant blame him at all. Hell, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to see what was inside that gym. But.. you knew you didn’t have a choice. As Sakura said, if we don’t move forward, we learn nothing.

“Yeah.. lets go. Most of them are already in there anyways.” You turned to look at the remaining students in the room. “Are you guys coming or….?”

Kyoko didn’t respond. Sayaka seemed to be shaking, but ultimately nodded.

“I’m totally getting a bad vibe right now…b-but...it’s... not like we can like… go anywhere else s-so…. yeah whatever.” Junko shakingly sputtered. After that, you and Makoto began to walk towards the doors, and momentarily Junko, Sayaka and Kyoko followed behind us. You placed your hand on handle, anxiety riddling in your bones. But you knew what you had to do. It was inevitable to predict what was going to happen when we stepped in, but no matter what… we need to keep moving.

You opened the door and stepped inside. And what was waiting for you was…. The rest of the students. The gym itself really did look like an entrance ceremony…oh.

“Oh…It just looks like a normal entrance ceremony.” Makoto let out a slight sigh of relief, but you still felt uneasy.

“See? Told ya! It’s totally normal entrance ceremony stuff!” Yasuhiro stated calmly. “Normal?...What kind of entrance ceremony are you used to?!” You asked.

No…No no no….. you don’t believe it. Something is going to happen you just know it. This isn’t…-!

Just then, that same unfamiliar voice was heard…again.

“Hey there, howdy, hello! Is everyone here? Good! Then let’s get things rolling!”

Everyone turned to the front of the gym, what we saw pop seemingly right out of nowhere was…a black and white teddy bear..? What?

“Huh? A…teddy bear?” Chihiro asked confusingly.

“I’m not a teddy bear! I…am…Monokuma! And I am this school’s headmaster!” The bear responded.

What I was seeing was…incomprehensible...indescribable…just…. unreal.

“Nice to meet you all!”

That voice, its so bright and carefree but it felt so completely out of place. It transformed your anxiety to outright terror.

This earned a scream from Hifumi. “Wh—? Waaaaaah! That teddy bear can talk!”

“Calm down! I’m sure there’s just a speaker inside it.” Taka said with uncertainty in his voice.

This seemed to anger Monokuma. “I told you already, I’m not a teddy bear…I’m Monokuma! And I’m your headmaster!”

“AAHH?! It’s alive! Holy fuck?! Kill it kill it!!” You hid behind Makoto, who gave you a ‘Seriously, dude?’ look. Monokuma gives you a saddened look. “So cruel!...I thought I’d be welcomed with more love..”

“Seriously man, calm down! It’s prolyl just a remote-control toy or somethin’.” Mondo sputtered out. He himself wasn’t exactly the calmest compared to the others.

Monokuma’s attention went to Mondo. “How dare you compare me to a child’s plaything! You’ve cut me deep. Deeper than the Mariana Trench…. My remote-control system Is so complex, even the folks at NASA can’t recreate or even comprehend it!” He starts to laugh. “Ah, but don’t make me say stuff that might destroy NASA’s dreams. I just couldn’t BEAR that!”

Nobody laughed at his lame pun. Go figure.

Celeste places her hand over her mouth. “ ‘bear’ that? Really? You are…unfortunate.”

Monokuma clears his non-existent throat “Now then, moving on! We really must hurry and get started…”

Junko scoffed. “Giving up already? No other stupid bear puns?”

“Quiet down now, quiet down. Ah, okay, so…!”

“He has abandoned the gag..” Sakura muttered.

“Everyone, stand at attention and bow! And…good morning!” Right after Monokuma said this, Taka immediately followed up with “Good morning!!!”

“Teachers pet…” You mumbled under your breath. Toko seemed to agree as she stated “Y-You don’t have to s-say it back..”

“Now then, let us commence with a most noteworthy and memorable entrance ceremony!” Monokuma happily states. “First, let’s talk a bit about what your school life here will be like. Now, ah, make no mistake—you few students, so full of potential, represent the hope of the world. And to protect such splendid hope…you will all live a communal life together solely within the confines of this school.”

Huh….what?

“Ah, now then…regarding the end date for this communal life…There isn’t one! In other words, you’ll all be here until the day you die! Such is the school life you’ve been assigned.”

It felt like your breath had just been stolen from your body. What do you mean... until the day we die?

“Wh-What did he just say? Until the day we d-die…?” Toko stuttered.

“Oh, but fear not! We have quite an abundant budget, so you won’t lack for all the common conveniences.”

“Shut up! That’s the least of our worries! What is this?!” You yelled.

“Yeah, what the hell? You’re saying I have to live here forever?” Junko angrily asked. “You’re screwing with us, right?”

“I am NOT screwing with you! I am no liar; of that you can be 100% sure.” He yells. “Ah, and just for your information…you’re completely cut off from the outside world.”

“Cut off…? So all those metal plates all over the school…They’re there to keep us trapped in here?” Makoto asked. “That’s exactly what they’re there for. No matter how much you may yell and scream for help…help will not come. So with all of that in mind, feel free to live out your life here with reckless abandon!” Monokuma replied with that same cheery voice. It was starting to really annoy you.

“Come one, what the hell is this? I don’t care if the school or whoever else is behind it all, this is just a bad joke.” Leon stated, followed by Mondo who agreed with him. “Yeah! Cut this shit out! It isn’t funny anymore!”

It never WAS funny!...You’re still freaking the hell out!

“You keep saying this is a lie, or a joke. A bunch of skeptics, all of you.” He laughs into his paws. “But I guess you can't help it, huh? You all grew up in an age where you're taught to doubt your neighbor... Well, you'll have plenty of time to find out whether what I say is true. And when that time comes, you'll see with your own eyeballs that I speak the undeniable truth.”

“Having to live here forever would be…quite the problem.” Celeste sadly but also calmly replies.

“Come, now. What's the matter with all of you? You decided of your own free will to attend Hope's Peak Academy, didn't you? And now, before the entrance ceremony is even finished, you've already decided you want to leave?” He tilts his head with his pay resting on his cheek. “Oh, but you know... I guess I did forget to mention one thing. There *is* one way for you to leave the school...”

Toko’s head perks up at this. “R-really…?”

“As headmaster, I've crafted a special clause for those of you who would like to leave! I call it...the Graduation Clause! Now, let me tell you about this fun little rule. As I mentioned, to maintain an environment of harmony here, we rely on a communal lifestyle. And if someone were to disrupt that harmony, they and they alone would be allowed to leave the school. That, my students, is the Graduation Clause!”

Disrupt the harmony…? What did he mean by this?

“What do you mean by…..’disrupt the harmony’?” You nervously asked him.

Monokuma looked at you with that same creepy smile as he laughed. “Puhuhu… Well, you know… If one person were to murder another~”

……

“M-Murder!?” Makoto exclaimed. You remained silent from fear, you could only blankly stare at the bear as the word ‘murder’ repeated in your head. “……….”

“Stabbing, strangling, bludgeoning, crushing, hacking, drowning, igniting, how you do it doesn't matter. You must kill someone if you want to leave. It's as simple as that.”

No way… no fucking way…..

“The rest is up to you. Give it your all to achieve the best outcome in the worst way possible. I see that stylist over here is eager to kill, looks like they prepared in advance!” Monokuma laughed loudly. “Puhuhu~! Those scissors can do some real damage to the throat!”

Now all eyes were on you. You hesitated before responding to him. “I-I what?! These are for hair only! I’m not going to murder anyone you sicko!” You defended yourself.

“Keep telling yourself that! I’m sure it’ll work out in the future….anywho..I bet *that* got your brain juices flowing! Beats the heck out of a human catching a salmon, huh? Like I said before, you guys are the hope of the world. But you know... Taking that hope and seeing it get murdered creates a darkened shadow of despair……And I just find that so…darn…exciting!”

Leon began to shake again. “What the hell are you talking about~? To kill each other is..It’s!”

Monokuma tilts his head. “To kill each other is to kill each other. I'm sure there's a dictionary here somewhere if you need it.”

Aoi clenches her fist angrily. “We know what it means, that's not the problem! Why do we have to kill each other!?”

“Yeah! Stop blabbering on with all this nonsense! Just let us go home already!” Hifumi yells.

“…Blabbering?”

Suddenly the environment felt even more dark than it originally was. Monokuma’s tone got sharper, he was starting to get visibly irritated again. “Blabbering, blabbering, what do you mean blabbering!? Stop blabbering on about blabbering on! You guys just don't get it do you? "Let us go, let us go!" You keep on saying the same thing over and over and over and over...! Listen. From this moment on, this school is your home, your life, your world. Got it?” He lifts his paws up. “And you can kill as much as you wanna kill! So go ahead, go on a kill-kill-killing spree!”

“Alright, come on…how long are you gonna keep this up?” Yasuhiro smirks, not understanding how much danger he’s in right now.

“Eh?”

“You got us, okay? You scared the hell out of us. So you can go ahead and reveal the trick now.”

This guy is seriously going to get himself killed..

“Reveal the trick…?” Monokuma tilts his head.

“Yeah, cuz I mean…Y’know, this is all some kinda trick and all, right? So uh, like…”

“Dude, shut the hell up and get outta my way.” Before Yasuhiro could finish his sentence, Mondo shoves him aside, placing himself right in front of Monokuma. His voice rumbling like thunder.

“Listen up, asshole! This shit’s gone way too far! What the hell kinda joke IS this!?”

“Joke? What, you mean like your hair? Maybe you should’ve got stylist to give you a better hair do!” Monokuma teased him. This severely angered Mondo.

“FFFUUUUUUUUUUUU--! Mondo roared out, then there was a loud BOOM. It was the floorboards, he launched himself into the air and flew straight at Monokuma like a bullet. He held Monokuma into the air with his left hand. “Gotcha, you little piece of shit! I dunno if you're a toy or a stuffed animal or whatever the hell! Either way, I'm gonna rip you to fuckin' shreds!”

“Waah! Violence against the headmaster is in violation of school regulations!” Monokuma flapped his little arms and legs helplessly.

“Mondo! What are you doing?! Don’t touch it!” You yelled. “Shut the fuck up!” he replied to you before turning his attention back to the bear. “Let me outta here you dumb fucking bear…OR I swear to Christ…”

Monokuma went dead silent. Nothing was heard except…beeping.

“What, no smartass comeback this time!?”

The beeping got louder and faster.

He’s a—!

“Stop that goddamn beeping and SAY SAOMETHING!”

“SHIT— THROW IT!” You yelled out.

The beeping gets even faster.

“What…?” Mondo looks at you with confusion.

“Hurry up and throw it!” Kyoko yells. Without hesitation after being told a second time, he did what he was told and as soon as he did—

*KABOOM!*

Monokuma exploded.

We all stood there in complete shock for a moment. If it wasn’t clear to us already, it was now. This isn’t a joke. This was all real. The painful ringing in your ears and the smell of gunpowder proved it.

Mondo was stunned for a few seconds. Fear engulfed his face. “The hell!? Th-That sure as shit wasn’t a joke. It blew the hell up…”

Chihiro held her hands together nervously. “But you know... This means that the teddy bear's been destroyed, right?” This would’ve been good if it was true but…Monokuma just popped right back up out of nowhere.

“I told you, I’m not a teddy bear! I’m Monokuma!”

“AH?! ANOTHER?!” You screamed.

“You son of a bitch! You seriously just tried to kill me just now!” Mondo angrily said. This earned a stern response from Monokuma. “Well, yes. I was serious about trying to kill you. You did violate one of the school regulations, after all. I'll let you off with a warning this time, but you'd better be careful from now on. Any naughty boy or girl who violates my rules won't get off with just a little swat on the butt.”

“H-Hey…So does this mean there’s like, a bunch more of you around here somewhere?” Junko asked.

“Monokumas have been placed all throughout the school, yes. Plus, don't forget the surveillance cameras installed everywhere. And if you're caught breaking any rules, well... you all just saw what happened, right? You don’t want to get BLOWN TO BITS do you?” He laughs into his paws. “Puhuhu... And I won't be so forgiving with my punishment next time. So don't let it happen again!”

“You call that a punishment?...Th-This is just…wrong!” Makoto sputtered out.

“Now then, lastly…To commemorate your joyous entry into our school, I have a little something for you…” He takes out a handbook with the Hope’s Peak Academy logo on it. “This is our official student handbook! Pretty cool, huh? As you can see, it's fully digital. So naturally, we call it... The e-Handbook!”

“Ahem. Yes, well, moving on... This handbook is vital to a healthy school life, so don't lose it! When you start it up, it will display your name. Always make sure you have the right one! Now, this is not your everyday notebook. It has so many more uses than that! Also, it's completely waterproof. Splash it, wash it, drown it, it'll keep on ticking! And thanks to its space-age design, it can withstand an impact force of up to ten tons. Very resistant! It contains all of our school regulations, so make sure you review them thoroughly!”

He now gives us a stern look. “You'll hear me say this a lot, but any violation of school regulations will not be tolerated. Rules restrict, yes, but they also protect. Society, for example, would be utter chaos without laws. The same thing applies here! Which is why it's crucial we have strict punishments in place for violators. Okay, well...that brings our entrance ceremony to a close! Please enjoy your abundantly dreary school life! And...see ya losers!”

And with that, he was gone, leaving us all in a state of pure shock and fear.

“So, guys…How would you define what we just experienced?” Taka asked.

“How…? Why…? I don’t understand any of this…” Leon was shaking, muttering nonsense to himself. But Toko seemed to be even more in fear.

“We have to l-live here forever…? Or…k-kill?...Wh-What…? What just happened!?”

Kyoko and Celeste however, considerably seemed to be the calmest out of everyone here.

“Everyone, we need to just calm down. First, let's just take a second to summarize everything we just heard. Based on what Monokuma said, we essentially have two choice. Choice number one is that we each stay here, living a "communal life" together until the day we die. And the other choice is...” She trailed off, Celeste finishing what Kyoko was about to say.

“If we want to get out of here alive, we must kill someone. Right?”

Chihiro started to cry. “But...killing someone... That's...”

“It’s HORRIBLE! I want to go home! I-I need to see my dad…!” Your body continuously shook. This couldn’t be real, this wasn’t real it shouldn’t be real..

“A lie, is what it is. All these ridiculous things we've heard... This all has to be fake!” Taka was still visibly shaking. No matter how much we wanted to believe it was all a joke… a lie.. it was more than real.

“Right now, it doesn’t really matter if its real or fake. What matters is… Is there anyone here who's seriously considering all this...?” After Byakuya said this, we all went radio silent.

Nobody had a response. Including you and Makoto. You looked at Makoto, then looked around at the others.

We all stared at each other, trying to gauge each other’s thoughts. You could taste the metallic on your tongue from you biting your lip harshly. You then realized the hidden terror within the rules Monokuma laid out…’you must kill someone if you want to leave’. If you trap people in one place and lay out one weapon, someone is bound to take that weapon and murder to leave. It’s just nature, someone will kill. And it made you severely nervous.

We’re forced to wonder. “Is somebody going to betray us?”

And that was how your new school life began…. This school, which seemingly came from heaven at first had rose your hopes high…You thought it was a school full of hope.

But you were wrong. Instead…it was a school full of pure despair.

Thanks for reading! Hope you'll stick around for my future chapters! <3

[sabraeal]

don’t speak boyshit, Chapter 1

[Read on AO3]

On her last first day of school, Inomata Maria wakes up before her alarm.

It’s hardly the first time; as a firm believer in punctuality and a staunch eschewer of crutches, Maria has only ever placed a begrudging measure of trust upon that little black box. Thirteen years might endear some to its beady little gaze, but she knew better-- at any moment it might fail to remember her five am wake up call, or worse yet, play the radio, and then it would fall to her to make excuses to the disciplinary committee as she stood outside the academy gate, shouting into the uncaring wind.

It had never happened, of course, but one never knew when such petty appliances would decide to rebel against their function. And today, today--

Well, she couldn’t afford to be late.

The buttons of her blazer are shined to gleaming, skirt pleats pressed with precision, stockings fresh from the package, elastic clinging tight around her calves. With one last loop, her bow tie lies flat against her collar, academy brochure perfect.

Because above all, that’s what she is: the model student. If she has nothing else, she’ll have that.

“All right,” Maria informs her reflection, arms raised up in front of her, a readied stance. “Do your best.”

“Ah, Maria.”

Mother peers around the corner, brow already furrowed tight above her nose. She looks like her, people say-- the kind that spend too long looking at the wedding portrait in the hall, or at the baby pictures on the credenza-- and she can see it sometimes, in certain lights. Those tight lines around her mother’s mouth will be hers one day, as well as the faint crow’s feet tracing the corners of her eyes. Maybe even the reading glasses too, if she doesn’t get better posture when she studies. Just another legacy waiting for her, like always.

“Are you going already?” Mother’s shoulders already round into a concerned hunch. “Is there someone you’re planning to meet?”

A dozen answers rise to her lips; who else would be up this early for school, or no one would bother coming out here for me, or who would I meet when all my friends are books--?

But that’s not true. It hasn’t been for a long time-- not since Yuki and the other girls crowded her at the flower viewing all those years ago, filling her contacts with hearts and flowers as well as their numbers.

“No,” she says instead. “I just wanted to be early today.”

Mother eases. “I see. Excited to start your last year? Before university, that is.“

A grimace flickers across her reflection, gone as soon as it came. “Of course.”

“You’ll do your best, won’t you?” That furrow is back between her eyes, like it never left. “We’d like to send you to a good university once you finish.”

There’s no reason for the way annoyance zings through her fingers, so strong she has to clench them to dull the buzz. It’s not a new sentiment, not in the least, but for once it’s a request, no-- a question. As if this close to the finish line, she’s suddenly become someone else, someone who isn’t the perfect student they’ve raised her to be.

The joke, as she overheard Kamitani say once, is on them. There’s no one else Maria knows how to be.

“Of course.” The Maria in the mirror looks stern, studious, just the way she always has. “What else could I do?”

The academy’s entrance ceremony is supposed to be a solemn occasion; most of the first years may only be rising up from the middle grades of the gakuen, but their parents are still in sober attendance. It’s a sea of business casual-- a wave of somber black suits followed by one of wives in pressed pink and floral skirts, as befitting the season. It is, by all appearances, an event just as serious and dignified as any other high school induction, however--

“Niichan!”

--Maria is relatively certain the children aren’t supposed to be here. And even if they are, one of them is definitely not supposed to be wiggling a foot up near Kashima’s knee, failing to whisper, “Up!”

His laugh is soft, half embarrassed and half pleased. Somewhere in the vicinity of her chest, something gives an entirely unnecessary squeeze. “Kotaro, please...”

It’s possible, Maria allows, that the chairwoman has changed the rules. They are her grandsons now, and even Maria might be tempted to bend them for a sight as cute as this.

“Niichan,” Kotaro informs him with all the gravitas a three year old can summon, “I wanna sit in your lap.”

“Oh my.” With only Nezu as a buffer between them, Yagi leans toward her-- no, toward the scene Kotaro is quietly making, his foot quivering as much as his lower lip. “Is that Kotaro-kun?”

“Sit back.” Nezu’s arm braces against the chair in front of them-- the girl sitting in it spins around with a frown, one that only lasts as long as it take her to see that it’s 3-A’s handsome prince looming behind her-- but it’s a futile effort. After two years, Maria knows: there is no force on this earth stronger than Yagi’s desire to witness chubby cheeks.

And of course she is the one sitting in the chair with the best view.

“What is he doing?” he asks, breathless, tawny hair nearly brushing her shoulder. “Is he trying to climb on Kashima-kun’s--?”

Maria plants a hand on his forehead, enjoying his too-brief slack jawed shock, and shoves him back. “None of your business.”

His lower lip trembles. As if she has ever been moved by such a thing. “But...”

“You’re going to get blood all over your uniform,” Nezu reminds him wearily. “And then what will you say when we have to show the first years around?”

Yagi straightens, suddenly every inch the boy the class president he’s been elected to be. He’s smart, he’s nice, and he’s hot, Kawata was always quick to offer, and for a brief moment, he’s at least got two out of three.

“Inomata-san.” He turns all of that intense, dark-eyed smolder onto her. “You’ll tell me what’s happening, won’t you?”

Yagi might set a fire among all the other girls, but against Maria, it fizzles like a spark on wet wood. “No.”

“But Inomata-san--”

“Kotaro.” Kashima replies with an infinite well of patience, the sort Maria already feels drying up the longer Yagi buzzes in her ear. “I don’t think this is really the time--”

“It’s not.”

Maria blinks. It’s no surprise Kamitani’s next to Kashima, but still-- she hadn’t noticed. Not until he spoke up, voice soft and flat, his gruffness already grating.

“Oi.” It doesn’t take much for him to frown-- Kamitani just looks like that-- but the corners definitely deepen, an ill-tempered knot brewing over his nose. “Go back to Usaida already.”

Kotaro spares them a doleful glance and raises his still-pudgy arms. “Up, please.”

Kashima wavers; it’s the smallest bend, like a sapling in a stiff breeze. Kamitani grunts a warning, and he snaps back into himself, releasing his last, desperate volley. “Where is Usaida-san?”

A single chubby hand points; its trajectory sails past the rest of 3-C, right out onto the bleachers the academy’s set up for the parents, cherry blossoms swirling on the wind--

Ah, and there he is. Maria’s mouth pulls thin. That lazy lump of a man, covered in squiggling toddlers, still manages to have a hand free to hold a camcorder. He’s not even ashamed of the havoc he’s allowed Kotaro to cause; oh no, he just grins-- well, more since his fox-face comes with that as a default, she’s sure, and smug-- and sticks up his thumb. You can do it, Ryuuichi, he mouths.

“Do what?” Kashima wonders aloud, saving her the trouble. “I’m...already in high school...?”

“Ignore him.” Kamitani fails to follow his own advice, glaring up at the stands. “Glad my idiot brother’s too old for that geezer to drag out here.”

“He’s only twenty-five,” Kashima murmurs, more scolding than he’s ever managed on Kotaro. “Besides, I wouldn’t say that too loudly. It might give him ideas...”

Kamitani clucks his tongue, mouth opening to doubtlessly give another unasked for opinion--

And then the wind blows, hard enough that the cherry blossoms break from their branches. Pink scatters through the air, littering the hair and laps of classmates and parents alike.

Why, with ceaseless, restless haste, her mind provides, the same monotone she hears her study guides in. Falls the cherry's new-blown bloom?

Maria frowns. Ki no Tomonori; a fact she knows against her will. She’d never liked the Hundred Poets-- never liked poems, for that matter-- but still those lines rattle around in her memory, no use whatsoever. It’s not like they’ll ask about any of those on her entrance exams.

A few petals scatter in her hair, but a clump drops straight onto Kamitani’s lap. She expects him to grunt, to brush it off with a grumble about how dumb outdoor ceremonies were, but instead his eyes widen, and--

And he sneezes. Loud enough that it stops one of the PTO from speaking. And then again, and again. Four times, each louder than the last, before he snuffles, rubbing at his nose.

Kashima stares. “Are you okay?”

With as much gravitas as a man covered in sakura can manage, Kamitani says, “Shut up.”

“Niichan!” Kotaro’s loud enough that the speaker stumbles again in his speech, casting a wary glance down at 3-C. “Up.”

“Well...” Kashima wavers.

“He’s going to do it.” Yagi’s chin hovers at her shoulder, entirely too close. “I can tell.”

So could a blind man, but she’d rather fail an exam than be caught agreeing with a boy like him. “Can’t you sit in your own seat?”

“I--”

He’s yanked back into his chair, Nezu’s weary face behind him. “Sorry.”

“I suppose just this once...” Kashima’s voice weaves threadily to her ears, and she catches him just as he lowers his arms, clasping Kotaro beneath his own. “It would be fine...”

“Tch,” Kamitani clucks. “Spoiled.”

The first years file into the halls, fresh faced and eager; Yagi flags down the advanced class, gesturing for them to line up by the wall. A few girls are already whispering behind their hands, casting speculative looks toward the president, giggling when he sends a curious glance their way.

Maria sighs, smoothing down her skirt. “I don’t know why you wanted me to do this.”

“You’re the top ranking student in our class,” Yagi reminds her with the infuriating calmness that got him elected as class rep in year one. “Who else would be better to introduce them to the academy’s advanced course?”

Someone who knew how to talk in front of crowds for one. And maybe one who was good at school, instead of someone who was just good at studying. She doubted any of these children would be pleased to hear that her advice for their secondary school education was to eschew all social bonds and dedicate themselves to study guides.

“See?” Maria longs for Nezu to appear, if only to remove the temptation of throttling the class president in front of his new crop of aspiring fan club members. “You can’t think of anyone else, can you?”

The girls along the wall stare at them, inquisitive, and Maria sighs. “I could if I was better with names.”

Yagi smiles. Her fists clenches at her side reflexively. “But you aren’t, so let’s say I’m right.”

The doors swing open again, bringing a burst of cherry blossoms to litter the floor as another class tromps through. This time it’s third years, and Maria catches a glimpse of bristled black and tousled brown before one of the girls whispers, “See, there he is.”

Ah, so even the Prince isn’t enough to hold a first year’s attention. Maria smooths out the twitching corner of her mouth, turning to address the girl--

“I made him a bento once,” she tells her friends proudly, flicking at the loose bun wound over her shoulder. “He even said ‘hi.’“

Maria’s mouth thins. “It would be best if you all waited quietly. This is an academic institution, not a-- a--” she wishes she was better at improvisation-- “group date.”

The girls simply stare, slack-mouthed, as if it’s some superhuman feat to hear them nattering only a meter away.

“Ah, Inomata-san,” Yagi laughs awkwardly, “I think we can be a little more understanding. This is only their--”

“Inomata?” The ringleader shrills, fists riding high on her hips. “You’re Inomata Maria?”

She’s half tempted to say, That would be Inomata-senpai, but she restrains herself to a choked, “Yes.”

The girl steps out of line; she’s shorter than her, but with the sort of length in her limbs that said this height was temporary. “I’m Inui Mika, and I am your rival.”

She huffs, marching back to the wall. Folding her arms across her chest sulkily.

“Rival?” Yagi blinks, swiveling to stare at her. “What’s that all about?”

“I...” Her mouth works, useless. “I wish I knew.”

“Can you believe it?” Yuki’s knees knock hers as she presses close; only Maria’s steady hand keeps her bento from spilling right off her lap. “Kashima-kun really let Kotaro sit on his lap the whole ceremony.”

Only half, but the distinction seems pedantic when the truth is just as terrible. “I can.”

Spoiled, Kamitani said, like he always did. Maria hesitated to agree with any opinion that was so quickly followed by a slap, but in this case--

Well, a third year letting his brother sit in his lap the whole ceremony, no matter how cute and how small said brother was, wasn’t precisely well-adjusted. Not that Kamitani was either, but it wouldn’t be the first time she took words from his mouth with a grain of salt. She had a terrible suspicion it wouldn’t be the last.

A pensive sigh slips from her as her chopsticks pluck at a ribbon of omelette. Still, it was cute. Part of Kashima’s charm was his closeness with Kotaro; other girls might talk about the boyishness of his face, or the sweetness of his voice, but Maria watches his gentleness, the soft way he speaks to his brother, and it makes her think of what he might be like with her--

Children, of course. Their children. Not that she thinks about them having children, but even if she did that would be-- normal. Girls did that with boys they...felt affection for. She certainly didn’t want him to treat her like Kotaro. That would be...weird. And unlike the both of them, she already had parents. She didn’t need...that.

“Maria-chan,” Yuki starts thoughtfully, mercifully saving her from herself. “I have an idea.”

Maria is a terrible friend.

She knows this intrinsically, the same way she knew at age six that no matter how many hours she put into practicing, piano would be a waste of her time and her parent’s yen. After two whole years of halting progress, she shows just as much aptitude at friendship as she did at piano-- ever taking two steps forward one day to slide back ten the next. Still, she has no intention of giving it up wholesale, like she did with her dreams of being a musical prodigy-- oh no, if some people are content to plunk out the melody of a song or two, tripping over notes they’ve lost the memory of, she can do the same with this.

Just as some people are made for concertos and duets, some are made for the deep, abiding friendships that Yuki’s shojo manga bloom with-- and Maria is made to study. In everything else she can just...dabble.

But Maria is a terrible friend. She knows this because the moment Yuki-- the closest thing she has to one of those shojo manga friendships-- utters I have an idea, her attention wrenches instantly, irrevocably away from listening.

Instead, she thinks about universities. About whether it would be better to attend one of the more prestigious ones in Tokyo, the ones that opened doors in countries around the world but required her to rent an apartment; or stay closer to home so she could save up her money, maybe find a place to move to right after graduation. Her mother said they wanted to send her to a good school, a convenient shorthand for far away with how many kilometers it was to the city, but most of those entrance exams would be competitive, and if she wanted to get an edge on the applicants from the cities--

“Maria-chan. Maria-chan.”

“Ah...” She blinks, her attention dragging down to see Yuki’s cheeks impatiently puff. Kirin made the same expression when Kumatsuka-san told her that giraffe-kun wouldn’t be able to attend yochien with her. “Y-yes?”

“Maria-chan,” Yuki hums, danger in every note. “Are you not listening?”

She should lie. It’s not what she’s comfortable with-- it makes her skin itch to contemplate it, to think about cobbling together the conversation from what few words sifted through the tangled layers of her thoughts. But it would be the kind thing to do; a little white lie to smooth ruffled feathers.

“No,” she admits instead, shame burning the tips of her ears. “I was thinking about entrance exams.”

Yuki’s chopsticks had been pinched around a choice chunk of pickled daikon, but it drops, rolling into her rice. “Entrance exams? Those aren’t until December!”

“W-well, if I want to take some for the universities in Tokyo, I should start planning now,” Maria sputters, knees squeezing tight beneath her bento box. “There’s always a lot of people taking those exams, and they have a reputation of being grueling--”

“Maria-chan,” Yuki says with infinite patience. “We haven’t even been third years for a day, and you’re already thinking about university.”

She’s been thinking about university since she was four years old with very little break. Maria hardly sees the point in stopping now when it matters more. “Is there something else I should be thinking about instead?”

Her tone is supposed to imply the question is rhetorical-- Usaida had made her practice that at the beginning of second year, when he discovered that what he thought was her wry tone was actually earnestly inquisitive, and he had crowed, this will cause so many misunderstandings in a way that seemed more eager than concerned-- but neither literature nor rhetoric has ever been Yuki’s strongest subject. She lights up instead, like Shibuya just before dusk, knees rattling the lunch sprawled precariously on her thighs.

“Yes!” There’s trouble in the way she sighs-- no, worse. Romance. “Have you noticed? The trees are blossoming.”

She’d certainly noticed Kamitani sneezing all morning; first at assembly, and then again when she’d passed by 3-C for...reasons. It���d been impossible to miss all the petals she’d collected as well, threaded through her hair and hidden in the folds of her skirt, spattering the ground whenever she moved enough to dislodge one.

But that’s...not what Yuki is talking about. “It’s...spring?”

“Right, exactly!” Her mouth spreads wide as if Maria’s said something brilliant, instead correctly identifying a season. Even Taka could do that. “Don’t you think we should have a flower viewing party?”

We. The word still trips her up when Yuki says it. We, as in a unit. We, because they are friends.

“A hanami?” Her mind skips to that first year, to the way Yuki and her friends crowded around her, her phone buzzing in her hands, changing into their friends. Expanding her contacts beyond just Mom and Dad into a scrolling list of -chans, turning it from a filial tether to the phone of a regular teenage girl, one who received LINEs that weren’t just about when she was expected to be home. Even now she remembers it; the first day she actually felt like a normal girl.

“Like last year?” she says when her silence has gone on too long, Yuki’s hopeful eyes already taking on a desperate shine.

“No! Well, maybe a little.” Yuki’s bento rattles with her restless energy. “I’d want our girls of course--” there she goes, ours, like Maria belongs to them too, instead of being suffered the way she always has been before-- “but not just them.”

Maria frowns. “Who else is there?”

“Oh, you know. Other people.” Yuki twiddles her chopsticks between her fingers, pinker by the moment. “Ah, maybe...Ebizawa-kun seems nice? Or, ah, Saginuma-kun? Or, um...”

Her jaw drops, hand slamming her bento shut. “Yuki-chan, do you mean boys?”

“You don’t have to say it like that!” she yelps, clapping her hands to her cheeks. “I just meant that they’re also our classmates. It makes sense that we might--”

“Is this--” Maria draws in a steeling breath-- “a group date?”

Yuki’s silence is damning.

“I don’t have time for foolishness like that,” she announces sternly. “Boys are a waste of time.”

“Maria-chan!” Yuki’s mouth purses, her eyebrows drawing down like a storm cloud. “This is our last year of koukou. After this we’ll be--” her voice drops, ominous-- “adults.”

Legally, perhaps, although culturally two years shy, but if Usaida-san is any indication, either line is more technicality than a natural law.

Yuki seizes her hands, pressing them between her palms, warmth seeping through the spring’s chill. “We have to make the most of our last days of youth! We have to--” her eyes tear with earnest emotion-- “to squeeze the last of its sweet nectar onto our tongues and savor the taste.”

Her words are too professionally composed to be anything but a quote; the kind whispered by women in novels, attributed to the Hundred Poets-- but Maria high suspects this one is from a manga. “And just how are we supposed to do that?”

“Uh.” Yuki squirms, palms clenching hers like she might absorb the reason through their skin. “A hanami?”

Maria is no expert on how to drink the last of anything’s sweet nectar, but that sounds a little thin, even to her.

“Or,” Yuki squeaks, “maybe getting boyfriends?”

She bolts upright; the last of her bento clatters to the brick below, ejected neatly from her lap. It draws more than a few curious looks her way, girls bending over to whisper behind hands, just like they always did. Even with the wind stealing every word, she knows what they must be saying-- what’s wrong with her? Why does Inomata-san act so strange? It’s because she is! She’s just a little study robot that doesn’t know how to be human.

“Count me out!” She scowls, stooping down to pick up the scattered remains of her lunch. Rice sticks to her fingers as she mutters, “I don’t care about things like that.”

Her bento teeters on the bench, and when she glances up to steady it, Yuki looks dangerously thoughtful.

“You know, Maria-chan,” she begins, too innocent. “We could invite Kashima-kun, too.”

She nearly drops the bento again. “W-what does that matter to me?” she shrills, jolting to her feet, box clutched to her chest. Thankfully, she remembered the lid. “Y-you can invite whoever you want! It has nothing to do with me!”

Yuki stares at her with such pity, she’s almost ashamed. “Oh, Maria-chan...”

“W-what?” This would be so much easier if her skin wasn’t so eager to betray her, if she could just stop burning every time someone muttered something even like his name. “It’s true! I don’t-- he’s not-- I’m not--”

“It’s okay.” A hand gently touches hers, Yuki’s sad smile greeting her as she peers down. “You’re not over him.”

Maria opens her mouth, protest flung from her throat like a reflex-- and she catches it between her teeth. With a sigh, she slumps to the bench. “I don’t remember you getting over him either.”

Only a few weeks ago she’d been sobbing at the academy’s gate, clutching the metal bars and wailing about how she was running out of time, how the end of this year meant she only had one more before she’d never see him again. Unless somehow she found a way into the same university, or she applied to the same place where he worked, or if she just happened to find out his address from a newspaper article, talking about his accomplishments--

And now Yuki only heaves a worldly sigh. “I can’t dedicate my whole youth to one man, Maria-chan.”

Yuki’s voice has always been pretty, light and fluty and easy, the way boys like. But it drops deeper now, humming in her chest, and for the first time Maria hears a woman’s voice, the one she might grow into with a few years under her feet. Kamitani-sensei always said failed romance gave a girl character, and she sees it now in the way Yuki’s jaw settles, determined and new, and the wistful flutter of her eyes. She’s always been pretty-- always will be pretty-- but now she’ll be striking as well, and--

And then she mutters, “Especially when he’ll never notice me.”

When Maria sighs, half of it is in relief. Yuki will always be Yuki, and that new scorned woman part of her-- well, that’ll keep until they’re actually women.

If their positions were reversed, Yuki would seize her hands, folding Maria’s too-large ones up in her perfectly dainty ones. Stars would shine in her eyes, and her mouth would spin the world’s most perfect confections of comfort: never give up, she might say, or one day he’ll look right at you and see how amazing you really are, or maybe even, I’m sure he already sees you, Maria-chan, how could he not?

But Maria’s never been Yuki. She could never be Yuki, because all that comes to mind now is, there’s no reason to worry about boys when grades are so much more important. How could she possibly be any comfort when it had taken her a year and change to realize that fluttery, awful feeling in her stomach when she even glimpsed a hair on Kashima’s head wasn’t her usual, jittery anxiety that dogged her in every social situation. No, it was something different, something even more terrible and debilitating: a crush.

She could throw up just thinking about it. Lucky Yuki that she managed to escape.

“So you like someone else now?” she asks, since it seems like the polite thing to do.

Yuki blushes, a pretty dusting of pink on the apples of her cheeks. Maria’s certain she’s never managed one like it in her life. “Ah, no, not yet. But any day now, I’m sure! There’s a lot of cute boys in our class.”

“Ah.” She taps her fingers on the brushed metal of her bento. “So that’s why you want to invite, er, Ebinuma-kun, and, um-- Seri-- Sagi--?”

“Ebizawa-kun and Saginuma-kun,” Yuki corrects gently, giddiness making the names bobbing and buoyant in the air between them. “And maybe? I don’t know them all that well, and it might be nice to get to know a few, see if any of them, mm...catch my eye?”

It’s not impossible-- statistically, it’s even probable-- but despite all these passionate protests, Maria knows: Yuki will measure every boy she meets against a Kashima-sized measuring stick, and it doesn’t take an abundance of sense to know she’ll always find them lacking.

“But look on the bright side, Maria-chan! We’re no longer rivals!” Yuki’s smile is so bright, so earnest she can’t bear to remind her they never were, not really. Just two soldiers trapped in the same trench. “I can truly cheer you on, no matter who you choose.”

Maria is no expert in romance, and even less in love, but she’s pretty certain there’s nothing even close to choice involved. If there was, she wouldn’t have chosen to like anyone, let alone someone as hopeless as Kashima.

“Well, if that’s the case,” she says firmly, “I choose to study.”

Yuki heaves a weary sigh. “Oh, Maria-chan, if only you could study to get a boyfriend, then you’d be the most popular girl in school.”

[massivedrickhead]

Could you write one where Beca has an accident and although Chloe doesn’t know her, she stays with her until she wakes up?

Trigger warning: suicide is mentioned

Read on AO3

“Oh my God! Are you okay?”

Beca’s vision flickered in front of her. The bright white sky was suddenly replaced by a pair of impossibly blue tear-filled eyes and red hair.

She was hurting. Everywhere. She wanted to move but she couldn’t. She wanted to speak but she couldn’t.

She was finding it hard to breathe. Every time she tried to suck in a breath she felt like she was getting stabbed in the chest.

“Shit, I’m so sorry! You just came out of nowhere!” 

Beca opened her mouth again, trying to speak. She could taste blood in her mouth and she was starting to panic

“No, no, no, don’t move! Don’t try and speak. I’ve called an ambulance, you’re going to be okay. You’re gonna be fine.”

“C-c-can’t,” Beca gasped. “I c-can’t- fuck…”

“You’re okay,” the woman said, forcing an air of calm into her voice that didn’t quite hide the fear. “Look at me. You’re okay.”

“I fucked it up…” Beca said, her breathing slowing. Calming. Her vision was fading now. She heard sirens in the distance and then the panicked voices around her got quieter.

And quieter.

Until there was silence.

Chloe paced the hospital corridor, her hands shaking, her stomach churning with worry. 

“Chloe? What are you still doing here?” Aubrey asked, adjusting the stethoscope around her neck. “I thought the police said you could go?”

“Yeah they did,” Chloe said. “But I have to make sure she’s okay, don’t I?”

“Chloe, you know I can’t let you in there,” Aubrey said with a sigh. “You aren’t her friend or relative or anything. And I know it was an accident but you literally hit her with your car. For all anyone else knows you could be a murderer here to finish the job.”

Chloe rolled her eyes and dropped into one of the uncomfortable plastic seats in the corridor.

“Can you at least tell me if she’s okay?” Chloe said, folding her arms.

“I’m not supposed to,” Aubrey said. 

“Does she have any family here? Anyone I could speak to?” Chloe asked.

Again, Aubrey sighed. “Look, I really shouldn’t be telling you anything about her. But, no. We called a bunch of people and no one answered.”

Chloe frowned. “I can’t leave her on her own.”

“She’s… Look, she wouldn’t even notice if you were there or not. She’s gonna be pretty out of it for a while,” Aubrey said. 

“I can’t just leave,” Chloe said, tears burning her eyes. “Not if she doesn’t have anyone. I need to… To at least apologise. I could have killed her.”

“It was an accident.”

“But it still happened,” Chloe said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

In the end, it took Beca a few days to wake up properly.

Chloe stopped by every day. She even brought her flowers and got Aubrey to put them in her room.

She knew she was bordering on stalker behaviour, but she couldn’t help it. She had to meet this girl. Had to apologise. 

Especially considering that, according to Aubrey, she still hadn’t had any visitors.

“She’s been asking about who’s bringing all the flowers,” Aubrey said one evening as they ate dinner.

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her they were from the woman who hit her with her car, who was also turning into a stalker and that I could get it to stop if it made her feel weird,” Aubrey said.

“Aubrey!”

“I’m kidding. I mean, I did tell her that, but I also said they were from my crazy but harmless roommate who really wanted to meet her,” Aubrey said. “So she said you could.”

The next morning Aubrey showed her to Beca’s room.

Beca was sitting up in bed. She was awake but seemed zoned out. She had one earphone in and she was staring off into the distance.

She had scrapes on her face and arms, and Chloe could see a cast on her wrist and stitches in a cut on her head. Her face was bruised where it had hit the ground. 

Chloe felt a wave of guilt knowing she was responsible for this, and nervously tapped on the door, hovering in the doorway.

“Hi,” Beca said, looking slightly confused as she removed her earphone. She grabbed a notepad and flipped through it. “Sorry, we haven’t met, have we?”

“No,” Chloe said. “Not… Not formally.”

Beca cocked her head slightly, still confused.

“I’m Chloe,” Chloe said. 

“Chloe,” Beca repeated, looking at her notebook again. “Sorry. I’ve been having um…” she trailed off, searching for the word she needed. “Trouble, remembering stuff. Like… retaining information. They, um, the doctors said it’s normal. When I hit my head I lost some… some um, memories and words. But they said it’s normal and hopefully not, uh, forever? Permanent. They said it wasn’t permanent.”

Chloe stepped a little further into the room and couldn’t help but smile.

“You said your name was Chloe?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said. “You’re Rebeca, right?”

“Beca,” she said, writing something in her notebook. “So what kind of, doctor are you Chloe? I’m gonna keep saying your name so it sticks in my head, is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said smiling a little wider. She liked the way her name sounded when Beca said it. “I’m not a doctor.”

“Oh, sorry,” Beca said. “I just assumed. I only see doctors and uh… nurses. Are you a nurse? You aren’t in the, um,” she tugged at her gown, trying to find the word, “scrubs.”

“I’m a vet,” Chloe said.

Beca just stared at her for a few seconds. “They sent in a vet? Okay… Sick burn I guess?”

“No! I’m not here to treat you,” Chloe said, laughing. “I’m… I hit you with my car.”

“Oh,” Beca said. “You’re the… the flower lady. Dr. Posen’s roommate?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said. “That’s me. I just… I really needed to apologise. And I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Right,” Beca said. “You don’t need to apologise, it was an accident.” Beca was looking at her intently. “Are you sure we haven’t met?”

“I spoke to you after I hit you,” Chloe said. “You were conscious for a couple of minutes. It was, um, pretty scary?” Chloe added with a nervous laugh, tears stinging her eyes. “You were all… bloody and you couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe. How are you doing?”

“They said I punctured a lung,” Beca said. “Broken ribs, cracked… um… pelvis. Fractured wrist and, um…” she gestured to her head, “a concussion. But, you know, still alive. So… all things considered.”

“I’m really really sorry,” Chloe said, taking a cautious step closer, tears brimming in her eyes, threatening to spill over. “If there’s anything I can do, please tell me.”

“Thanks, Chloe,” Beca said. She rubbed at her head, a headache starting to form behind her eyes. “It’s funny, I don’t really remember anything about that day. I don’t remember getting up that morning, or what my plan for the day was. I don’t remember where I was headed. I remember… I remember being in pain. So much it didn’t seem real. It couldn’t… pinpoint, where it was coming from. It was just… Everywhere. And I remember your eyes. But the two things don’t feel connected. The pain and your eyes aren't the same memory. It’s… it’s stupid. It’s hard to explain.”

“Try me,” Chloe said, taking a seat beside Beca’s bed. 

“I remember looking into your eyes and feeling… calm. Did you say anything to me?”

“I told you that help was coming and that you’d be okay,” Chloe said. 

Beca nodded. “Did I say anything back?”

“You… You weren’t making a ton of sense? Which, you know, is perfectly understandable, you’d just been hit by a car,” Chloe said. “You kept saying ‘I can’t’ but you were like… gasping. It was like you couldn’t catch your breath. Which will be the punctured lung’s fault, I’m guessing. My fault, really. And then before you passed out you said… you said ‘I fucked it up.’ I don’t know what that was about.”

Beca rubbed the back of her neck. 

“Yeah, I dunno what that means,” she said.

They talked for a little longer before a natural silence fell. It didn’t feel awkward.

“So,” Beca said. “Thank you for the, um,” she gestured around the room, “flowers.”

“You’re welcome,” Chloe said. “Thank you for not being mad at me for hitting you with my car.”

Beca laughed and then winced at the pain in her ribs. “You’re welcome.”

Chloe sensed that their meeting was coming to an end, even though she didn’t want it to.

“I was wondering, how would you feel about me coming to see you again?” Chloe asked.

“Why would you want to do that?”

Chloe shrugged. “I like talking to you.”

Beca gave her a small grin, and rubbed the back of her neck again. “I like talking to you too.”

“And plus it’s my fault you’re in here anyway, I should at least keep you company,” Chloe said.

Beca laughed and shook her head slightly. “It wasn’t your fault,” she said quietly.

Chloe’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “I was driving the car that hit you, Beca.”

“Yeah but I just… I walked out without looking. Apparently.”

“Apparently?”

“The police came to take a statement. Some girl was making a… Vine? Not Vine. New Vine. Gen Z Vine.”

“Tik Tok?”

“Yes,” Beca said, laughing. “She was making a Tik Tok with her friend and I was in the background. They said I just… Walked into the road. Head down. And then…” She trailed off, looking uncomfortable. “I guess that’s why you’re out walking the streets instead of behind bars for attempted murder, huh?” She added with a nervous laugh.

“I guess so,” Chloe said. “Thank god for Tik Tok.”

A few more moments passed in silence. “So can I come and see you tomorrow? I finish work at 4 pm.”

“Yeah,” Beca said, smiling again. “I’d like that.”

“I’ll give you my number,” Chloe said. Beca turned to a blank page in her notebook and handed it over. “Give me a text if you can think of anything you might want or need.”

“Thanks, Chloe,” Beca said. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Why wouldn’t I be nice to you?”

“You don’t know me.”

“Yet,” Chloe said with a grin. “I don’t know you yet.”

-

True to her word, Chloe arrived the next day after her shift.

It took Beca a few moments to put her name to her face. She stared at her for a few seconds, a crease forming between her eyebrows. Her hand was resting on her notebook, but she didn’t open it.

“Chloe… Vet… Hit me with your car. Yes?”

“Yes,” Chloe said with a laugh. “But just Chloe is fine.”

She pulled a packet of Oreos out of her bag and handed them to Beca.

“You’re an angel,” Beca said, grinning as she opened the packet. She offered the pack to Chloe who took one with a smile.

-

They spent the next few days in the same way. Chloe would visit after work, and when visiting hours ended the two would text, growing closer with every conversation.

It was almost a week later when Aubrey entered the room while they were talking.

Beca had been quieter than usual. She’d been having a hard time maintaining eye-contact and she seemed much more distant than she had been before.

She also seemed to be in a lot more pain. They were evidently reducing her medication.

Chloe was worried, but didn’t know how to broach the subject.

“Good news, Beca,” Aubrey said. “You’re gonna be able to go home in a couple of days.”

“Oh,” Beca said, forcing a smile. “Awesome.”

“You’re gonna need someone to take care of you though,” Aubrey said, looking down at Beca’s chart. “Is there anyone we can call for you?”

“Um, no,” Beca said, trying to avoid looking at Chloe. “I don’t… There isn’t anyone.”

“Right,” Aubrey said. “You’re going to struggle on your own, Beca.”

“I don’t really have a choice,” Beca said, feeling her cheeks burn.

“Okay,” Aubrey said, sighing. “I’ll leave you to it. If you can think of anyone, let me know.”

Aubrey left the room, her eyes meeting Chloe’s for the briefest seconds, but it was enough for her to know that Chloe’s heart was breaking.

“Go on,” Beca said, still avoiding eye contact. “Say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say something about how… how I don’t have anyone. How I haven’t had a single visitor other than you since I’ve been here. About how I have no one to take me in. No one who cares enough about me,” Beca said. “Ask me why. Ask me what I must have done to be so… so fucking alone.”

There was a few moments of silence between them, and Beca felt tears burning her eyes.

And then Chloe placed her hand on top of Beca’s.

“You aren’t alone,” Chloe said. “Not anymore. We’re friends, right?”

Beca sniffed and let out a teary laugh. “You don’t know me.”

Chloe shrugged. “What I do know about you, I like.”

“Why are you even here, Chloe? Why do you keep coming to see me? Is it guilt? Or do you feel sorry for me?” Beca asked.

“Do you want me to go?” Chloe asked. 

“I want you to answer my question.”

“Yeah, I do feel bad that I hit you with my car and landed you in hospital, of course I do. And yes, it makes me sad knowing that you’ve had no on else come and visit you. That you don’t have anyone to take care of you when you need it,” Chloe said. “The reason I visited the first time was because I needed to apologise. I needed to see with my own eyes that you were okay. That I hadn’t… ruined your life. But the reason I came the second time? The third? The reason I’m here now? Because I want to be here. Because I like spending time with you, I like talking to you. But if you don’t… If you don’t want me here, Beca, I can leave. I know I’m intense. I have trouble with, like, boundaries. I don’t always know when I’m crossing a line, or if I’m outstaying my welcome. So if you want me to go, I can go.”

“That isn’t what I want,” Beca said, quietly. “I’m sorry. I just… I don’t know why someone like you would want to spend their free time with someone like me.”

“Because you’re cool,” Chloe said. “You’re funny. You’re smart. You’re easy to talk to. You’re not bad to look at.”

Beca laughed and Chloe smiled.

“You’re one to talk,” Beca mumbled.

“Are you gonna let me be your friend then? Without the questions and superstitions? If you need a friend reference you can just ask Aubrey. I freaked her out with my friendship in the early days too,” Chloe said.

“Yeah, I guess that would be okay,” Beca said, trying not to grin. “Sorry for being a dick.”

“You weren’t being a dick. You’re in pain and you’re… you’re stressed out about something,” Chloe said. 

“Yeah they’ve stopped giving me the good stuff,” Beca said. 

“Bummer,” Chloe said. “You know, if there was something else going on that you wanted to talk about, I’m a good listener.”

“I’m fine, it’s just I, uh, remembered something. About that day. About where I was going,” Beca said.

“Well that’s good isn’t it?”

Beca shook her head, tears filling her eyes. 

“Tell me about it,” Chloe said, softly. “Take your time. I”m not going anywhere.”

“I was feeling… Empty. Just… done. I was done. I’ve, um, I’ve had depression and anxiety for as long as I can remember. It’s one of the reasons I’ve been on my own so long. People don’t stick around after they’ve seen me at my worst.” Chloe squeezed her hand again, and Beca felt encouraged to carry on speaking. “That day I was going to…” Beca trailed off, her voice catching in her throat. She swallowed and wiped her eyes. “I was going to… Please don’t make me say it.”

“Beca, did you… Did you step in front of my car on purpose?” Chloe asked, feeling like she’d just been plunged into ice water.

“N-No! No,” Beca said, wiping at her eyes again. “I was going to the bridge that you have to drive across to get to the university. The one over the river.”

“‘I fucked it up,’” Chloe said, quoting what Beca had said to her that day. “That’s what you said to me, ‘I fucked it up’. Because you were planning on killing yourself.” Chloe felt sick. “Jesus, Beca, did I save your life by hitting you with my car?”

“I guess,” Beca said. “After the accident I was feeling better like, mentally. I thought maybe it was because I’d had this… this near death experience, that maybe I didn’t actually want to die anymore.” Beca gave a hollow laugh and then winced at the pain in her ribs. “I thought I’d been cured. But I was wrong. When they started reducing the morphine those feelings started coming back. Makes me wonder if I should try heroine. Kidding,” she added at the look on Chloe’s face.

“God, Beca,” Chloe said, sinking back into her chair. “This is a lot to take in.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Beca said. “You don’t have to stay, if this is too much.”

Chloe felt Beca pulling away, so she tightened her grip on her hand. “I didn’t say that,” she said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I don’t want you to feel pressured into being here,” Beca said.

“I don’t feel pressured,” Chloe said. “Beca, I’m here because I want to be here. What you just told me hasn’t changed that.”

Beca squeezed Chloe’s hand as tight as she could with her fractured wrist. “Thank you.”

“We have something else to decide now,” Chloe said. 

“What’s that?”

“Who’s gonna take care of you when they let you go home?”

Beca sighed. “No one is,” she said. “I’ve been looking after myself since I was a teenager. I know how to do it.”

“What if I helped?” Chloe asked. “I could just check in with you every now and then? Pop over to your place after work or call you to make sure you’re okay?”

“I feel like I don’t have a choice in this, do I?” Beca asked.

“Now you’re getting it,” Chloe said, grinning. 

That night, Aubrey was checking Beca over before she headed home for the day.

“Have you thought about anyone who can help you out when you get discharged?” Aubrey asked, looking over Beca’s charts.

“Yeah, I have someone who’s said they’ll keep an eye on me,” Beca said. “It’s all sorted.”

“Great,” Aubrey said. She looked up from her chart and studied Beca’s expression for a moment. “It’s Chloe, right?”

“Yeah,” Beca said, feeling a bit awkward knowing that Chloe and Aubrey were best friends. “Did she tell you?”

“No,” Aubrey said. “But I knew from the second you said you didn’t have anyone, that she’d volunteer. And she always gets her way.”

“I hope you don’t think I’m like, taking advantage or something. I told her she didn’t have to stick around,” Beca said.

“I don’t think that,” Aubrey said, softly. “And I know what Chloe’s like. She just… she likes people. She likes helping them. Once you have her as a friend, you’re stuck with her.” Aubrey laughed as a memory came back to her. “We roommates in college, that’s how we met. In our first week I got sick with the flu and she… She took care of me. And she’s never stopped taking care of me. She’s just the best friend anyone could ask for.”

“I feel like I don’t deserve that,” Beca said. “I’m not an easy person to be friends with.”

“Neither am I,” Aubrey said. “I’m controlling, a perfectionist, I get borderline obsessive about certain things. I can be rude, blunt, mean. I can be a real bitch sometimes.” Aubrey shrugged. “Chloe saw through all that. She has a way of just overlooking the bad parts of people and seeing the good. And I’m not saying she’s perfect. She can get just as obsessive as me. And she has no respect for boundaries or personal space. She barged into some freshman’s shower one year because she liked the way she sang. But you’ll never have a better friend than her.”

“I just don’t know why she’d want me as a friend.”

“You make her laugh,” Aubrey said after thinking for a few moments. “Chloe has a really good fake laugh, but I haven’t heard her use it once with you. And sometimes I’ll catch her smiling at her phone when you guys are texting. She doesn’t do that when she texts other people.”

Beca grinned. “She makes me laugh too.”

Aubrey smiled and carried on checking Beca over. “How’s the pain?”

“Not amazing,” Beca said. 

“I’ll get the nurse to come by and give you something. It’ll help you sleep.”

“Thanks,” Beca said. “And thanks for saying all of that before. It’s just… It’s weird. A week ago I had no one and now suddenly there’s this amazing person who for some reason wants to be part of my life. I’m not used to it.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it.”

[hermitreunited]

TUA Feedback Fest!

💜💜 Favorite Fic Writer 💜💜

I could have split these all up to go under various rec theme posts, and maybe I will, but the gosh darn truth of it is that I love every fic by @sunriseseance��� aka Oceansweather so dang much that I needed to make a post about all of it. A very detailed post. It’s long, but she and her work deserve it. <3

A Hard Rain’s A Gonna Fall

Summary: In 1963, most citizens of Dallas had no idea where Vietnam was. He knew that because none of the people he passes as he walks look particularly dead inside. The sidewalk scorches his feet even though the sun hangs low in the sky. The air is hot and wet and it feels like a jungle growing in his chest.

aka, A Fourth of July fic about Klaus, trauma, family, and history. Takes place in 1963.

Rating: NR⎜Pairing: Implied Klaus/Dave⎜Word Count: 4k+⎜Complete (1/1)

This is true for all of her fics - the writing style is so engaging and good and smart! This fic in particular, though - WOW the narration is incredible. Gets you very deep into Klaus’ headspace for a gripping, panicky experience. He’s dealing with the fallout of a traumatic event that is about to happen to most of the people around him. So complicated and sad and intricate!

He wants to warn her that, hey, in 6 years your little boyfriend is going to get drafted and he’s going to go to a country you couldn’t pick out on a map and he’s going to kill people who he shouldn’t kill and every week he’ll write you a letter promising you that when he gets back you’ll move out of the city and your baby will have a real forest to play in and then he’ll kill some more people he’ll go to hell for killing if there’s a hell to go to, and then, well, he’ll get shot in the chest and the blood will come out of his mouth, too, and you’ll have to know that you weren’t there, weren’t fast enough to hear his last words or offer him some last comfort and he’ll be dead and for what? 

Happy Birthday, Johnny

Summary: It’s a nice place. Allison made sure of that when she chose it the first time. Three stays ago. God, they’re only 23 (And they are 23 now, or close enough). Three times? She may as well be lighting her money on fire.

Still, the chairs are comfortable. The visiting room is empty, of course, apart from a man with deep, heavy bags under his eyes. Fluorescent lights hum above her as she waits. They wash everything out, cast everything in a harsh shadow. Not that anything about the experience isn’t harsh. This is stupid. She knows it, now, as she feels her heart beating in her throat and the backs of her legs and her fingers.

What if he doesn’t want to see her? What if he was asleep for, what, the first time in 13 days? That’s how long it’s been this time, right? What if he hates her? (What if he’s right to do so?)

Rating: NR⎜Pairing: Gen⎜Word Count: 3k+⎜Complete (1/1)

Get ready for your heart to break from the Allison and Klaus feelings (and hold onto them, because she’s going to do this again, Allison and Klaus feelings is her brand). Being Hargreeves siblings is complicated, so so complicated, especially for these two, whose circumstances could not be more different, but when it comes down to it, they are quite similar. It’s pre-series, so it’s Sad, but boy is it ever a detailed look into these two excellent characters.

On their 13th birthday, before everything went wrong, Klaus snuck into her room at midnight with a magazine he stole and a cake he made. The smell of smoke stuck to all of his clothes, his skin, his hair. He gave her the cake, all of it, and the magazine. The smile that accompanied them haunts her.

He asked if he could sit with her, and she said yes. He asked if she’d ever smoked before, and she said no. He asked if she wanted to, and she said yes. He asked if she wanted weed or a cigarette, she said cigarette. That’s what the movie stars did. He gave her a look, a laugh, and showed her how to hold it so it didn’t burn her fingers. Not that he’d lit it yet. He wanted to make sure she had it down before he set her on fire.

Slow is in My Blood

Summary: Dave touches him, sometimes. In dances through root systems lit by a diffused moon, Dave puts a hand on his lower back, his arm, his shoulder. To help, he says. Your balance, he says, it isn’t good. I don’t want you to fall. These pits are endless, he says. You don’t like the dark. A touch to help. It helps.

aka, A meditation on Klaus and allowing himself to be loved. Dave doesn't die at the end.

Rating: NR⎜Pairing: Klaus/Dave⎜Word Count: 1k+⎜Complete (1/1)

I am biased, I suppose, because this fic was a gift to me. But like!!!! This fic!!! It’s sad and beautiful and lovely and so perfect. I can’t not think about Klaus and Dave’s relationship without thinking about the dynamic in this fic, about how Dave initiates and Klaus keeps himself from running away. It’s gorgeous.

Maybe it’s not one sided. Maybe he touches Dave on the back of his neck just to watch his skin react. Maybe he hopes the reaction comes from the touch itself, and not the chill Klaus carries with him. Maybe he lets the touch linger long enough for Dave to smack his hand away. Maybe he knows, somewhere, that smack is the wrong word. Dave doesn’t smack. He holds, and moves. He lacks a violence somewhere at his core. Maybe it’s the only way Klaus has something Dave lacks, and maybe it’s the only thing Klaus wouldn’t share if Dave asked. 

I’ll Be Cleaning Up Bottles With You on New Year’s Day

Summary: Sitting behind him on the windowsill, in a truth that still feels false, is Dave. Quiet, right now. Rubbing Klaus's neck. Kissing it occasionally. New clothes, even, though still only things Klaus saw Dave wear in life. The closest he came to fancy enough for New Year's was the outfit he wore on the night they first kissed. The dates still get muddled in his head.

Dave still smells like Dave. Klaus can bring that back, too. The earthy-clean skin, the slight scent of sweat, the cotton of the polo. Something else, underneath all that. Something that Klaus could recognize anywhere, could follow to the end of the world, could die to protect.

Rating: NR⎜Pairing: Klaus/Dave⎜Word Count: 1k+⎜Complete (1/1)

OKAY Okay okay. This fic was the equivalent of a bottle of wine when I read it on New Year’s Eve, because it just took these 1092 words, and suddenly I was crying and telling my friends how much I loved them. Me talking about it here is not going to do justice to the warmth and love that you will feel from this. You just have to read it. If you want to experience a moment of perfect contentment and peace that will probably put happy tears in your eyes, read this.

His family is together. Really. They sit in the living room, wearing out couches that have lasted centuries. Allison spills her champagne. Luther only moved Klaus to the slightly-opened window when Klaus started smoking.

Diego's puzzle, which he insists isn't his, keeps finding more pieces. Five and Diego work on it together. He watches them work on it together. He watches Luther help, before getting up to change the record on father's phonograph.

Karma, Leave These Kids Alone

Summary: Klaus is right, because he usually is. Their childhood was worth fearing. But it wasn’t all bad, she thinks, and some guilt pangs her. I wouldn’t wish this on us, but I’m glad I got him out of it. I’m glad Claire is safe.

She holds out her hand for him, and he takes it.

aka, A meditation on Allison and her traumas, guilts, fears, and loves. Centered around her and Klaus, their love for one another, and how that changes her love and fear for Claire.

Rating: NR⎜Pairing: Gen⎜Word Count: 2k+⎜Complete (1/1)

Allison and Klaus complicated feelings part deux! Now with added Claire feelings! The story centers around Allison’s fear of her daughter having powers, which I would read 100 fics about, and because it’s an Oceansweather fic, it doesn’t stop there. The Hargreeves are adults now who are trying to understand their childhood, and how they relate to each other. It’s complex and sad and it hurts but also it’s healing and growth and love.

He laughed that familiar laugh.

Why would she see the dead? Well, she has an imaginary friend like you used to. She has nightmares. Klaus, I am terrified for her. How did you know it was real? He was quiet, and then he said, well, I could see them. I always could. If she doesn’t see them, she doesn’t see the dead, right?

And Allison said yes. That makes sense. And then Klaus was quiet for a while longer, and then he gagged, and then he said, well, why are you terrified for her? She heard the venom in his voice.

Same As It Ever Was

Summary: He tries to love the heels. Really, he does. He knows Dave loves him in them. He knows, hey, it’s his job to look good. Right? Dave fixes cars and Klaus fixes dinner and cleans the house and looks oh so pretty. So, yes, he has to wear the heels. He doesn’t own any other shoes and he can’t go walking around barefoot. Not with his toenails painted black. Why were they black again? And, say, why did his wrist look so blank? He traced a shape that he couldn’t place onto his skin and waited for something to appear. Like invisible ink. aka, Life is perfect for the Hargreeves, which must mean something is wrong. How fortunate that Klaus is smarter than anyone gives him credit for.

Rating: NR⎜Pairing: Klaus/Dave, Diego/Eudora, Five/Delores⎜Word Count: 8k+⎜Complete (1/1)

This fic is so. freaking. cool. It’s closest probably to a horror story? It’s definitely creepy and uneasy, but it’s also melancholy and thrilling and - very importantly -it features Smart Capable Underestimated but Badass Klaus! I am willing to bet you have not read anything else in the fandom like this, and that you are going to be absolutely captivated. I know I am!

Klaus doesn’t want to see Dave, which is not a feeling he should have. He knows this. He knows he wants to see Dave every day for the rest of his life. So why is he running? Why are his feet carrying him to the bathroom? Why is he locking the door? The tumblers clang into place. His hands shake and he’s going to fall over and brain himself if he doesn’t catch his balance. He can only remember feeling so terrified twice in his life—except he can’t. He can’t remember it at all. So he can’t remember ever feeling this terrified.

It’s just Dave.

[a-jynx]

Glory Rider - Part 2/3

Summary: Y/N’s best friends talk her into doing some tricks on her new Honda Grom, but what happens when doing a certain trick could possibly lead her to her riding days were over?

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of injuries, hospital visits, car crashes, pissed but loving Jared and Gen, somewhat graphic detail in gore (part 2), along with uncle Jensen and aunt Dan coming in to help,

Pairing(s): Jared x daughter!reader, Gen x daughter!reader, Jensen x niece!reader, Dan x niece!reader

Tags: @iliketowrite02 @waywardnewcomer @laceyn-1201 @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @casiskween @i-hear-crazy-calling-my-name @sandlee44 @j-k-ruffell  

Enjoy! Feedback is the glue to my writing!

“Hey, babe, have you seen Y/N?!” I called while making my way downstairs, attempting to fix my beanie into place as Gen peeked her head out of the kitchen, a large smile on her face.

“Yes, papa bear, she’s fine. She wanted to go take her new Grom out for a little while with Alex.” Gen grinned as Shep and Tom came running in from outside, large grins on their faces as they yelled at each other.

“Mm, you know how I feel about her being on those things..” I gently growled as she arched a brow, frowning before she walked forward wrapping her arms around my waist as I did the same to her.

“I know, but you know she’s careful - plus she’s been riding for almost five years; of course, I’m worried about her too because there are idiots in the world, but we can’t take it away if it makes her happy, J..” Gene gently sighed as I nodded, yet a frown still tapped to my lips when the boys came rushing out of the kitchen, crawling between our legs as we laughed.

“Hey, let me finish up breakfast and then we can all go to the park like we planned, I’ll have to call Y/N, and Alex to meet us over there.” Gene smiled as I scooped up the boys, them wiggling in my arms as I did small circles, them screaming and laughing as we went around, and around, and around - yep, I’m gonna be sick.

“Sure, I’ll have to-”

Suddenly, I was cut off by the sound of my phone ringing. Furrowing my brows, as I thought it was work or Jay, I carefully placed the kids on the floor as they went rushing away, I grabbed my phone and placed it to my ear.

“Hello?”

“M.. Mr. Padalecki..?”

“Um, yes, who is this?” I furrowed my brows at the sniffling on the other side, suddenly feeling heaviness in my chest as my eyes trailed over to Gene, who was too occupied with cooking to notice the worry in my voice.

“It’s.. It’s Y.. Y/N..” The coughing and cracking with choked sobs voice made everything seem to just stop. The world stopped spinning, my wife stopped cooking, and my kids stopped playing as I straightened my back - my mind whirling to what could’ve happened.

“What happened?” I quickly placed the phone against my ear and shoulder as I moved quickly, shuffling on my flip-flops as I moved to the kitchen and pressed a kiss to Gene’s temple, catching her off-guard as she frowned at my sudden worry.

“She.. She was doing a trick, and.. And this man - oh my god, he hit her with his truck!” The girl shouted as she couldn’t control anymore of her cries, and that’s when it hit me.. My baby girl is hurt, or even most likely dead..

“Dammit! O.. Okay, is there an ambulance there yet?” I growled whilst running a hand through my hair.

“Y.. Yes, it’s the Jefferson Hospital,” after that, I hung up, I couldn’t take any more of this..

“Babe? J? Jared, where are you - what’s happening?” Gene called as I rushed around, grabbing my wallet and stuff my phone into my sleep shorts as I threw open the door, I turned back to her and gave her this look of desperation as she furrowed her brows.

“I.. I’ll call you when I know exactly, okay? I love you.” I quickly shut the door and got into my car, my heart was already in my throat.. But I knew it would drop as soon as I saw her.. Jesus, God.. Please let her be okay..

As I parked near the entrance of the hospital, I could see Alex standing there with worry and anxiety just coming off him in waves. I made my way over, shouting for him as he looked towards me a small thing of relief flooded him as he ran to meet me.

“God, Jared.. I’m - I tried to stop her! I’m so sorry, I.. I..” Alex sighed, a broken noise tumbling from his lips as I grabbed him and wrapped him in a hug before pulling him back as he tried to contain himself.

“It’s okay.. She’s going to be fine, and don’t blame yourself, okay? Just take me to where she is,” Alex nodded as he turned away, leading me into the however-many-floors hospital and it made me sick to my stomach…

The smell of chemicals, the sounds of murmuring people, and seeing doctors and nurses with masks and latex gloves just sent shivers down my spin - my girl didn’t deserve to be here. She deserved to be out there - to be free.

“I already told the doctor and nurses that you or Gene would be coming, they wouldn’t let me go in since I’m not immediate family,” Alex sighed as we stepped into the elevator. I didn’t even quite register what he was saying as I attempted to keep tears from flooding my eyes, and my heart from exploding out of my chest.

Suddenly, the silence was broken from my phone buzzing, pulling it out of my shorts’ pocket I saw Jay’s picture appear before I answered, swallowing down the bubble that formed in my throat.

“Jay?”

“Jared! Hey, Gene told me to call you, is something wrong? She said you were acting weird before you rushed out of the house..” Jensen’s voice was somewhat drowned out by the sound of a cars’ engine.

“I.. It’s Y/N, J.. She was riding and got hit by some douche.” I stiffened as I said it - hearing myself say it made it all seem that more real.

Jay cursed before clearing his throat, the dinging of the elevator signaled Alex and myself of as we went towards her room.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can, Jefferson Hospital, right?”

“Yeah..” I hung up, stuffing the phone in my pocket as I listened to the beating of my heart, and the flooding of my blood filling my ears as Alex stopped near a windowed room; and that’s when it happened - it all became real.

Y/N’s bodied laid on the hospital bed, a large breathing tube stuck down her throat whilst a machine kept her breathing, bandages wrapped around her midsection, and the only thing hiding the rest of her was a simple sheet. Dried blood clotted up in her hair and forehead, some stitches on it - she looked pale. Hell, she looked like she was about to greet Death like she would when I returned home after filming…

“Oh, my god..” My stomach lurked as I slowly rounded into the room; God the smell.. The smell of her metallic blood and the chemicals making it hard to bare as I stared at the girl I promised to protect.. To love and treasure more than anything, now laying in a bed with machines keeping her alive.

“Alex, who.. Who’s the man that did this?” I bit my cheek to keep from growling; whoever did this was about to get a whole other meaning of ‘pain’. Alex stepped closer, placing his hand on the bed as he stared down at his best friend; he was hurting almost as much as I was..

“He.. He stopped to check on her, but he never gave us a name or anything. All I remember was the license plate.”

“That’s good enough. I’m going to sue his ass for everything he has - dammit! I knew she should’ve never gotten into riding!” I turned and slammed my palm against the door, before running both of my hands through my hair, frustration rolling through my veins as I attempted to clear my head.

“Jared.. I - she loved riding, it was her passion. Plus you knew you couldn’t say no to her the day she asked you for her first bike..” Alex moved away from Y/N, placing a hand on my shoulder as I turned towards him, feeling the burn of tears in my eyes as I sighed, my bottom lip trembling.

“Well, this isn’t the first bike situation - this is the last one. She’s not going to leave the house on another one of those death traps ever again, and I don’t care how pissed, or how upset she gets - its final. Her glorified riding days are over.” I swatted a hand in the air, emphasizing the point of there was no more riding days to follow after what happened - I wouldn’t allow it.

“Jared, think about this rationally.” Alex slightly pleaded, but I waved him off. Moving around him as I grabbed the seat closest to Y/N’s bed, pulling it close and plopping down into it; I reached forward and took her wire-free hand into my own.. It felt cold.

“I am, Alex.. If this was your child, you would be doing the exact same thing!” I slightly growled, my papa bear showing through. Alex stood behind me, I could hear the delayed breathing from his nose as I narrowed my eyes at my daughter’s body.

“Jared, please… If you keep her cooped up after this, she’ll never want to ride again. She’ll be terrified to even leave the house,” he whispered with a slow yet painful sigh.

I rolled my lips together with the shake of my head, scoffing slightly before turning my head and glancing at him from over my shoulder. “Maybe that’s for the best.” I hissed as hurt and agony tightened in my throat. Rolling my thumb over her cold hand, a sudden commotion came from outside, only to reveal Jay from the hallway with worry and anger twisting on his face.

“Jared..” Jay took a few steps into the room as I stood, Alex, taking a few steps back as I met him halfway as we wrapped our arms around each other before pulling apart and turning back towards Y/N. “So, do we know what happened, or… How long?” Jay asked in a whisper as I swallowed thickly and shook my head, glancing at Alex, who stood there with furrowed brows and sad filled eyes.

“I just got here, but they haven’t said anything… I need to call the cops though, Alex said he knows the mans’ license plate, so I need to get them here soon.” I cleared my throat, before moving towards the door and to wave Alex to follow as he nodded once, quickly moving behind me as Jay moved further into the room before sitting down where I sat before, grabbing onto Y/N’s wrist and holding her hand tightly.

She’s already so broken, but if I lose her to some idiot… I’ll break them even more. 

Part 3: Coming soon! 

I hope you all enjoy this new chapter! I’m hoping the third part will be the best! 

[moonwolfhowl]

Yuletide 2k19 edition

Hiyo, first off I’m moonwolfhowl on tumblr and nightmoonz on AO3. I’m really excited that you got me and I just want to thank you so much in advance and I really hope you have fun with this!!

Secondly, here are a couple things that I like and dislike, (and some prompts but you can take ‘em or leave ‘em). If you’re not 100% sure on if something is or isn’t my deal my ask box is open and the anon option is turned on.  

Ratings: I prefer through T-M, but tbh I’m pretty easy so if you wanna go up to E feel free ^__^“’

Likes, Loves and DNWs:

Likes and Loves!

AUs! No, seriously, every kind of AU

Humor! Especially: sarcasm, witty banter, etc…

Angst and hurt/comfort are awesome!

Slow Burns

MUTUAL PINING and/or SEEMINGLY unrequited feels

idiots to lovers, this can either be enemies to lovers or friends to lovers. sort of related to the point straight above XD

found families

Fake relationship/dating/marriage you know for a cover/mission/(fill in the blank)

Bed Sharing

Sex Pollen

“In Vino Veritas” 

Happy Endings!!

Squicks/DNWs (do not wants):

Character Bashing

Abuse of any kind

Cheating

Actual unrequited feelings

Harm to animals

Non-Con

Incest

Mpreg

Major Character Death

Scat and/or Watersports

2nd and 1st person perspective

Spiders especially Tarantulas, this is a huge trigger for me

Okay! I’m gonna put a break here because this is a long post and all prompts/ideas are below.

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

Alrighty, so these are just some silly prompts or ideas that you can take from or totally ignore altogether! It’s really just some ideas that you can look to if you’re stuck or need a jumping off point.  And man, like if you already had an idea? Please feel free to go with that instead, I just want you to have fun  = ^__^ =  

Also again, if you have any questions the anon option is turned on for my ask box.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~OOctopath Traveler - Therion, Tressa Colzione, Cordelia Ravus, and Leon Bastralle

Oh boy this game. I have no words that can even describe how much I LOVE this game. The storytelling was fantastic and I got really invested in not just the main 8 but in all of the minor/side characters too. I know I have Therion, Cordelia, Tressa and Leon specifically but if you want to throw in any of the other characters in the tagset you totally can, same with any side ships (here’s looking **You don't have to include ALL the characters I selected here in your fic, you can mix them up or follow a prompt I have. I only request that you include at least one of the ones picked here <3

I’m kind of open to anything but if you do need a jumping off point (and/or want to see me gush over my favs) check out the prompts below

Therion - I love him and would die for him he is my perfect little trash bandit. It kills me how he longs to belong somewhere but is equally afraid of it for very good reasons. Because of this he’s so heavily guarded and *sobs* his reactions to people (the 8 and Cordelia) genuinely caring about his wellbeing? It just hrrk! I’m so happy I started with him, that I got to see his growth throughout the story and how his emotional wounds finally seem like they’re on their way to healing. Tressa - My adorable little gremlin, she’s such a little badass! While money may be on her mind a lot she’d never cheat anyone! She’s genuinely kind and her travel adventure is so interesting because it’s about exploring the world, experiencing new places—and while she has a certain understanding of this—she learns the true meaning of sentimental value in things. I love her so much. Leon - I love how much of his character is wrapped up in some mystery and that he seems like a tortured but mature soul (as you can see I have a type.) Cordelia - I love Cordelia and she is entirely underrated. She’s been through quite a lot and her faith in my best boy helped him come back into the world able to to trust and love people again. She’s very soft and caring and now that her stolen heirlooms have been restored to her she can come back into the world herself.

Gen ideas:

Tressa and Therion teasing TF out of each other doesn’t matter what about or who about. I just love them and they have such a brosis vibe

Tressa spear fishing and shocking Therion or everyone by it, you can add any and/or all of the characters in the tag. (Inaccurate Tressa, "What? I live in a Port Town my dudes.”)

I know this is cheesy but Therion having his first Apple Pie would destroy me ; __ ; it can be when he’s little or an adult, AU, Canonverse or Canon divergent it can be a Birthday treat to himself, it can be the first thing he pays for with money he earned on his own. If you want to include any character my sign up sheet or want to include any other octo character(s) that’s fine too!

Shippy ideas (which I’m a little more into but whatever you are comfortable with is a-okay by me):

Cordelia Ravus/Therion (Thordelia)

THEM *SWOONS* I just love them, Cordelia helps my baby boy trust in people again and brings happiness back to his world… and he has so much respect for her I’m just— ; __ ; I just love them

Actor & Author relationship: AU, Canonverse or Canon divergent you name it!

Again Tressa teasing TF out of Therion but specifically about Cordelia (esp after his chapter good god. *swoon*)

Cordelia’s POV on her Noble Thief

Anything post game like I wouldn’t mind seeing her rebuilding Bolderfall, visiting each layer of the city and helping it thrive

Fake Dating. Any Setting XD

The “I’m supposed to take out the target but I fell for them instead” is also very good

Tressa Colzione/Leon Bastralle

; w ; their relationship and care for each other—like Thordelia’s—makes my heart melt

Any kind of them traveling together and developing feels on the open seas post game

Her being his apprentice and learning from him while teaching him some new things

Does Leon have a thing for the arts? Is that why he’s particularly enamored endeared to Tressa spotting the painting?

yeah ngl anything, my thirst is real

A Very Shippy and utterly ridiculous prompt. Tressa x Leon (Treon? Lessa?) and/or Thordelia (however if you wanna include other side ships like Olberhardt or H’aanit x Ophilia for example you can go for it!)

Masquerade! Can be Canonverse, Canon Divergent or AU!

A Masquerade ball in which: 

They can either know each other beforehand or not

Halloween Party, Adults, College AU

idk this is just something to have fun with and hey lol if you wanna make it more mature feel free

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

Promare - Lio, Galo, Gueira, Meis

Man this movie messed me up and all the right ways. Honestly one of the most chilling things was to see all of the Burnish being used as engine fuel… I like—ngl I cried, and then when Lio gets used as the core? ; __ ;

Honestly I will be happy with anything you come up with, there are so many possibilities just know that a heavy angst fic is A-okay by me, but if you want to do a flufflier or humor fic those are also so Very VERY good. I have some ideas below but again like if you have an idea in mind or started something by viewing my likes list go for it!

**You don't have to include ALL the characters I selected here in your fic, you can mix them up or follow a prompt I have. I only request that you include at least one of the ones picked here <3

Lio - Um yes I love him. He’s just such a tortured soul and true cares about people. I like—honestly he is my favorite character. The way he used his flame to protect Galo? How hard he fights for the Burnish? How hard Gueira and Meis fight for him and stop at nothing to save him speaks volumes about the kind of person he is. I just love him and want him to have nice things

Galo - This wonderful brilliant dumbass. I also love him and despite me calling him a dumbass he’s actually pretty with it when it comes to adapting to his environment. He also takes in new information and rather than reject it out right he examines it critically. Like the way he approached Kray about the Burnish experiments was not the smartest… However, he still went to find the truth no matter how much it could have hurt him and that really defines what kind of guy he is.

Gueira & Meis - So unfortunately we didn’t get to see much of these two but what we did get to see was GOLD. I love them, I love how they fight so hard to protect their fellow burnish and how loyal they are to Lio. Like omg when the Burnish were being rounded up but they used the last of their strength to save Lio, believing—knowing that he would come back for them? *hrrk* My heart.

So okay!!! Ideas and/or prompts! Again you don’t have to use these if you don’t want to <3

Anything Shippy with Lio and Galo + hurt/comfort?? 10/10

An AU where the Promare gift the Burnish with their “fire bending” abilities permanently

Anything found family esp if it's adopting Lio's litter fam with Galo's ; w ;

I'd love to see what was going on with Gueira/Meis while they were locked up side by side. What did they talk about? Their faith in Lio? Them possibly growing up with Lio? Their feels for each other? And honestly you can go as angsty as you want to with this.

Gueira & Meis being over protective (big bros) of their boss and bestie Lio. (Poor Galo lmao)

Feel free to include any other characters you want from the tag set or canon in general ^___^ 

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

Crescent Moon - Any

Ah… my poor beautiful tiny manga fandom… I love this 6 volume series so much. The storytelling can be fast paced at times but it doesn't even phase me considering how detailed and intricate the themes, lore, relationships and monsters & magic are. For this fandom anything goes, like any AUs, tropes, canon compliant or divergent is all welcome here.

Bonus points if you have your own take of the song/legend: “Princess Princess why do you cry?”

If you want to make a fic about the Princess and the Demon boy when they were kids, or have any fic at all featuring them (kid or adult) I'm all for it.

I love Mahiru Shiraishi/Mitsuru Suou they are such little disasters anything with them would be amazing but I’m a multishipper so if you have a ship that isn't them and you've been dying to write your ship? Write your ship! I'd love to read it!!! 

And anything including Akira is god tier - he is the bestest boy. 

I’m sorry I know this prompt is very open ended and very vague but like I’d just be happy with anything

[taonsil]

end of year fic summary \o/

this is copied over from dw so isn’t a tagging thing, but please do take it if you want~ it was in shareable format originally.

dhjfd I set my w/c goal at half of what my actual output was last year because I hoped to do more art, I didn’t realise it was gonna be because of the block from hell. but! the last minute burst of enthusiasm at the end of the year got me there, just makes for a pretty repetitive summary orz

january: - february: autochoris yeol, chansoo drabble march: april: may: june: round trip july: watch the time cause no one's watchin' august: september: october: suyeol drabble november: sparkle dust, unbeleafable december: useless husbands wip!

total number of fics (edited and reuploaded drabbles included): 7

total word count: 61k

favorite: gonna have a lot of same-y answers this year as there's less to pick from OTL but favourite, definitely unbeleafable. I really had a love-hate relationship with creating it, but I'm so pleased with the final result. It's a 'verse I'd happily have continued writing if there hadn't been a deadline

the best: unbeleafable. maybe it was due to lack of practice or coming out the other side of a massive writers block, but my style changed a little and I think it really benefited this fic! but also it was my first real attempt at writing explicitly nd characters and a plot that revolved around those themes. I'm the first to hold my hands up to my first attempts at other subjects having been clumsy, so I feel like I spent months just tweaking and editing it;; I really bonded with the characters in this (and the sideplots/supporting characters) n, yeah, it's just something I'm really proud of

most underappreciated by the universe: round trip! it's probably the only true gen fic I've ever written, and pokemon au. I found it very fun and cutesy to work on and (again, probably bc of the block that was getting me down most of the year) I was pretty happy with how the details worked into it. it's not super interesting, but I did hope it would be enjoyed ;u;

most fun to write: sparkle dust and unbeleafable. sparkle dust was ripped from a draft I created around march, and it was awful. it was when I could barely string a sentence together. it got real fun rewriting it once I felt back on my feet and feeling more confident of the direction it was going in, and that it's on a subject I enjoy, as well as knowing it was a gift for cat :'D unbeleafable was much the same - I started it in may, dusted it off in october and basically rewrote the entire thing at a personal best speed once I felt connected to it and comfortable with how the writing was going (and I enjoyed adding in little details so much, I was honestly laughing like a loser at some scenes while I was working on them). also the gross husbands wip I’m working on rn, it’s 6k in and I’m enjoying it a lotttt

sexiest: I mean..it's sparkle dust bc its the only one with actual sex in lol (if it could go to a character it would be tao in watch the time though, before he knows that yeol isn't up for anything his dialogue and actions are pretty sexual). and the wip but I can’t really talk about it cause it’s not up yet D:

“holy crap that’s wrong even for you”: everything was just standard Me this year imo.. it's not /wrong/ in any way, but writing an explicitly autochoris fic was pushing my own boundaries wrt comfort writing a subject. I mean I guess a sloppy blowjob wasn’t very Me but

fic that shifted my own perception of the characters: unbeleafable and watch the time. watch the time because that was also lifted from an old (2015) work, and writing the 'verse in more detail changed the character's attitudes. it's the first time I've written a tao who is so charming, mature and relationship driven, while cy is softer and more anxious (where as previously he was usually my filler character when I needed someone loud). and unbeleafable was just uh..honestly jm's depression was an afterthought. it wasn't in the original outline (which in fairness was only aiming for a 4k meet-cute, not the extensive slow burn it turned into). that his depression started to become detailed and was then a major plot point basically developed as I wrote, and I was backtracking to adjust earlier details to fit it. that jm really defined himself and I had to catch up;;

hardest to do: watch the time, god. I think I spent four months on it. I can't even words how terrible my block was this year, it really got me down. even when I was writing stuff that I can look back at now and see was ok, it was like I couldn't even tell if what I was reading made sense. it's the slowest I've ever worked on something and it was a really painful process, but I loved the idea of it so it felt like something good to work on when I was in a bad spot. (unbeleafable caught some of that too - I was poking around the same 5k of it for several months and considered dumping it so many times orz)

biggest disappointment: sparkle dust..a bit..bc I'm still terrible at smut lmao even with the context of the scene I just feel I could have done it better

most telling: I mean, everything. watch the time is chantao, ace themes, gender themes, (there's even a mention of tao's tattoo) it's a very very Me fic. a few people guessed unbeleafable was me. in a different sense that was telling, because I wanted yeol to be so loveable and worked hard to portray issues that matter to me in good lights

a thing I’m surprised at: that my w/c is as high as it is all considered djhf but no like, really the biggest surprise I've ever had in all my time writing fic was how positive the response to unbeleafable was. I was so genuinely shocked, I was even saving screenshots of some of the comments in case they were deleted or something. I still am surprised tbh.

what pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you never would have predicted in January? chantao and chansoo were probably the only thing I did expect tbh. pokemon au, subaek smut, suyeol..none of that was exactly what I anticipated, considering last year and previous was mostly focal around suchen and sutaohun

story with single sweetest moment? hnnn the lil chansoo drabble about yeol cutting his hair is overall entirely affection based. and there's two scenes in unbeleafable - when cy hugs jm after their sort-of-date and jm buries into it, and when cy offers jm his sleeve to hold while they're talking. (djhfd also this marrieds wip. they’re Very married, there’s a lot of gross husband-ing)

the story that made you cry: unbeleafable 🌿 the entire theme of it is personal to me, both yeol's autism and jm's depression. at times I was letting it write itself, and I got quite upset when they reached the point of being unsure if their communication issue would resolve. it was hard writing those scenes, because I absolutely couldn't change yeol's character to make it easier, but at the same time I really felt for how desperate and hurt jm was. (also in a nice-cry kinda way when they resolved things I was just, YES ; A;) (hmm also watch the time a lil bit when they had the confrontation and yeol was sure they’d have to break up)

easiest story to write: round trip was kind of a breakthrough wrt the block, after a lot of struggling it came pretty easy and got done in a day or two~

most overdue story: watch the time. I've wanted to write about sex repulsion for a long time but always skirted around it. also literally, seeing as it took me months longer to complete than intended :'D

did you take any writing risks this year? what did you learn from them? mmm kind of, in the subjects I chose. writing about an autochoris experience and writing a repulsed ace wasn't uncharacteristic for me but my confidence was very low at the time and I felt very uncomfortable about it. and unbeleafable honestly terrified me, I felt so vulnerable waiting for that to post and probably wouldn't have done it if it weren't for the fact it was anon initially. for me it felt like a big risk posting something that I felt could get a bad reception to an fest. I nearly contacted the mods at one point to ask them if it was even a good idea orz (also I feel my style just..changed somewhere, idk, but I decided to go with it instead of trying to change it back. its going ok ??)

in regards to writing, what did you learn this year: dghfd that blocks do end and that forcing yourself to produce has varied success. most importantly, I learned that sometimes bad things /dont/ happen :P

do you have any fanfic goals for the new year? I'm gradually working through my list! from last year I've achieved 4k+ averages for smaller fics and also writing 15k+ longer ones. and even managed something rated :P hmm idk though. I've always said 'more plot and a chaptered fic', but I wonder if I even want to do that anymore? it was more just something to tick off than a personal goal. I kinda would still like to write something plot driven but I'm accepting that my niche is what it is and it's probably what I'm best at/won't get bored doing. it feels like it's taken me until now to really decide and gain the confidence to write about the kind of people I want. so a very gentle goal for the new year would just be regaining my confidence, getting around to making that inspiration/techniques page I've always meant to have, continuing to polish up my style, and enjoying! writing!! again so I can get back to having fun !! upping suyeol’s page count also sweats

[anneapocalypse]

Line of Sight

Red vs. Blue. Carolina and Wash, gen. 2000 words. Rated M. Also on AO3.

CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR SEASON 15 THROUGH EPISODE 10.

Written for the RvB Angst War. Prompted by @tuckerfuckingdidit​:

agent illinois is actually camped out in a sniper’s nest when wash and carolina find his place. he knows he’s being hunted, and he intends to strike first.

Warnings: Violence and injury, hostage situation, implied/referenced minor character death, implied background relationship. See the endnotes on AO3 if you need to know specifics. 

The shot comes out of nowhere.

Carolina feels a sickening sense of deja vu, adrenaline kicking in like it hasn’t since Chorus. In an instant the beach becomes a battlefield, every wall and tree and scrub brush becoming cover for the sniper who’s just dropped Wash in the sand beside her.

They just walked out in plain view, didn’t sweep the area, didn’t establish a perimeter, she was so stupid—

A choked sound comes from Wash’s throat, over the radio, harsh in her ears.

She has her sidearm drawn, scanning frantically for hostiles as she drops to one knee, ready to spring up at the first sight of her enemy but she has to help Wash—

Straight through the breastplate. Hell. Must’ve been armor-piercing. Wash doesn’t have an overshield wouldn’t have had it up if he did—

she’s so stupid.

There’s the perch. Should’ve seen it from a mile away. An old lifeguard stand, most of the paint worn off revealing gray-weathered wood, and someone crouched at the top with her in their sights—

The shooter is marked as friendly on her HUD. Not unknown, friendly. And the color—

Carolina swallows down the sick panic in her throat and opens the old TEAMCOM channel.

“Friendlies! Cease fire, repeat, cease fire. This is Agent Carolina of the former Project Freelancer, my partner is Agent Washington, stand down.”

The voice that comes over TEAMCOM is familiar.

“I know who the fuck you are. Toss your weapons out of reach. His too. Keep your hands where I can see them.”

“You shot Wash—”

“I said drop your fucking weapons!”

“Okay, okay.” Carolina hucks her pistol into the sand, wincing. Rifle too. Wash’s rifle is on his back. She grabs his sidearm off his hip instead, throws that, reaches for the biofoam slot.

“His rifle too.”

“I can’t get to it without moving him, and I have to treat the gunshot wound or he'll bleed out. Let me do that, and then you shoot me if you want to.”

There’s no reply, which Carolina takes as an affirmative.

She yanks the canister out of its slot and pops the emergency release on his breastplate. The undersuit is soaked with blood around the entry wound, and it’s gotta be a lot worse around back. Red is seeping quickly through the sand underneath him and from the vitals warnings flashing on her HUD, she knows he’s losing blood fast.

Carolina jams the nozzle unceremoniously into the wound and sprays and Wash screams, twitching in agony as the foam fills up the cavity. It’ll burn real bad for the first minute, then go numb. You learn to appreciate the pain response, tells you your buddy’s still with you, but that doesn’t make it any easier to hear.

“Hang in there, Wash,” she says quietly over their private channel. “I’m gonna get us out of here.”

“S’okay, boss,” Wash wheezes back, and fuck, the relief that comes over her at hearing him say words nearly collapses her in the sand beside him. “A’ready got my straw.”

“That’s the spirit,” she says, trying not to choke up.

With the wound closed and the blood loss stanched, at least for now, she pulls Wash’s battle rifle out from under him, tosses it in the pile with the rest of the weapons. Wonders if she can gamble on old Illinois having forgotten about their standard-issue combat knives.

“I said all your weapons!”

Probably not.

Carolina sighs, chucks her M11 and Wash’s into the pile. “Anything else?”

“Now I want you to stand up and step away from the weapons. Go stand by the shack over there and—”

“I’m not leaving him.”

“I can start shooting again anytime, Agent.”

“You have the high ground,” Carolina snaps. “If you wanted us both dead, you could’ve killed me already. You want to know why we’re here. I want to know what has you shooting ex-Freelancers on sight. You can take our weapons. You can restrain me. You can interrogate me. I don’t care. But I am not leaving Wash behind.”

There’s a long silence, in which Carolina can hear only the crashing of the waves, the pounding of her own heart, and the rasp of Wash’s breath.

“Okay,” the sniper says. “I’m coming down. But if you so much as move, I swear to god, the next one goes between your eyes.”

“Got it,” Carolina says.

She flips quickly to the shared Red and Blue TEAMCOM. “Captain Tucker, come in Captain Tucker, this is Carolina, please respond.”

Nothing but static returns.

She knows this one. Not well. One of York’s drinking buddies from back in the day. York stayed friendly with a lot of people on the lower squads after the rankings started. Wash and Connie too. She didn’t. Wasn’t interested in people who weren’t on her level. Illinois wasn’t the competitive type, York pretended not to be. Figures they got along.

“Can you walk?” she mutters to Wash over their private COM.

“Maybe,” Wash wheezes. Coughs once, and it’s enough to make terror coil in her stomach. “Not far.”

Illinois is striding toward them across the sand, rifle holstered now, pistol drawn. He keeps it trained on them, kneels by the pile of weapons, grabs Carolina’s pistol and ejects the magazine, taking it. His pistol arm is steady, but Carolina notices his other hand is shaking. He stares at them for a long moment. Carolina stares back, waiting.

She’s startled when Illinois lowers the weapon, comes around the other side of Wash, and shoves an arm under his shoulders. “Help me get him inside. Hurry. It’s not safe out here.”

“Tucker, come in,” Carolina hisses again over TEAMCOM. “Sarge, anyone, if you are within range, please respond.”

Nothing. They’re on their own.

The shack is small but surprisingly clean, sparsely furnished with a hammock slung from the rafters, and a colorful woven rug spread on the floor. Nothing would reveal this rustic beach getaway for the hideout of a former special operative, save for the two footlockers shoved in the corners on opposite ends of the hammock. Repainted. No names on them that Carolina can see.

“Illinois,” she begins.

He shakes his head sharply. “Don’t use those names. They could be listening.”

“We’re on an encrypted channel.”

“It doesn’t matter. Don’t you understand? It doesn’t matter, they can find you anywhere—”

“Okay,” Carolina says quickly. “Okay. Just tell me—what should I call you?”

Illinois sighs, and his shoulders sag a little. “Just Samir is fine.”

Carolina takes a deep breath. “Okay. Samir. Wash—David—he needs medical attention. The biofoam can only stabilize him temporarily, you know that.”

Samir sighs, moving restlessly from one foot to the other. “I know. I’m sorry. If you’re for real, I’m—I’m sorry.”

“Samir,” Carolina says carefully. Wash’s respiration is labored. His blood pressure is lower than normal, but stable for the moment. He’s alive, but whatever she says next, it has to be with the goal of getting them out of what looks a whole lot like a hostage situation, and getting him medical attention.

Never was good at negotiation. She thinks of Sharkface, gunned down in the streets of Armonia.

Not the time, Carolina. Lock that down.

“Samir,” she says. “Who did you think we were?”

Samir’s fingers are fidgety on his pistol. “You. Not you. I don’t know. Bad either way. You were supposed to be dead. You show up on the news years later with a bunch of sim troopers. You—” he gestures at Wash with the pistol hand, his trigger discipline a lot less rigorous than Carolina would prefer, “were Recovery.”

Wash manages a weak facsimile of a chuckle. “Been a long time since I was called that.”

“Well, I was too. I know what that means.”

“What are you talking about?” Carolina says, trying to keep the impatience out of her voice.

But Wash groans softly.

“I didn’t kill them, Samir.”

“Wash, what—”

“Your squad, I didn’t… I didn’t kill them.”

“His squad…” Carolina says, baffled.

“Beta squad. We were all reassigned to Recovery after the Alpha mutiny, and…” Illinois laughs bitterly. “Wash knows.”

Wash gives a weak nod. “Most of them them were the on the first response team at Valhalla.”

Carolina takes a minute to process that. “So they’re…”

“Dead,” Wash says hoarsely. His BP is actually still dropping, Carolina notes with dismay—very slowly, but it’s still dropping. “I recovered their bodies.” He swallows, coughs again. “I didn’t kill them, Samir. I swear. Others, yes, but not them. It was the Meta.”

Samir lets out a long breath. “Okay.”

“Why would you think Wash—”

Samir laughs harshly. “I was Recovery, remember? Level Zero, full recovery of the incident, all that happy horseshit. Li and I just wanted to get away from all that. Start a new life. That’s why we ran. Why we came here.”

“Li.”

Samir hesitates, then kneels. Draws two letters in the sand. RI. Rhode Island. Rho.

“We came out here together.” Samir’s voice chokes up, and he tenses all at once, looking from one of them to other. Swinging in the wind, Carolina thinks. Panicked and lost. Alone.

She knows the feeling intimately.

“You thought we were coming for you,” Carolina says in a low voice.

“I didn’t know,” Samir says heavily. “I couldn’t be sure. I don’t know you anymore. You’re wild cards, both of you. Alpha Squad. Recovery. Dead, then alive. I didn’t know.”

“What,” Carolina says slow, deliberately, “happened, to Li?”

Samir’s shoulders sag. His arms drop to his sides. Finger off the trigger. Good.

“I went for one of my walks around the island, and when I came back, he was gone. His armor was gone. He’d suited up, taken the boat. I found it drifting… It doesn’t make sense, we never wore our armor anymore... and he went alone. Like something lured him out there. I know it sounds crazy, I…” He sags back against the wall, slides to the floor, head in one hand, the pistol still gripped in the other, his voice breaking. “I looked everywhere for him. Everywhere. He’s just gone. And now they’ll be coming for me, too. Maybe it is you. Maybe you’re just saying all this to get me to let my guard down, and then you take me, too.” He shudders, makes a sound like a sob. “At least tell me if Li’s dead, okay? That’s all I want to know. Just tell me if he’s dead.”

Carolina has been slowly, slowly, moving her hand across the floor.

She’s close enough to grab that pistol. It would take nothing, a fraction of a second. Get the jump on him, regain control.

She takes a deep breath, reaches out and touches his shoulder, gently.

“We didn’t take Li. We didn’t come to take you. But you’re right, someone did. Someone is hunting us. You’re not crazy.”

Illinois looks up.

“We came to warn you,” Carolina says quietly. “See if you knew anything. I’m sorry we were too late for Li, Samir. I’m so sorry.”

He doesn’t say anything, just keeps looking at her.

“Samir, Wash needs a medic. He will die, if we don’t get him help. I know you don’t want that. I know you don’t want anyone else to die.”

The pause is agonizing. Wash’s breath is so loud in her ears.

“I can get up to the radio tower and call for help,” Samir says, finally.

I can go, Carolina doesn’t say. I can get there faster. That would mean leaving Wash behind with Illinois. She believes his story, but she cannot trust that he won’t panic again.

She cannot let Wash out of her sight. Starting to regret letting any of them out of her sight, but she won’t make that mistake now.

“Okay,” she says. “We’ll stay right here. And Samir… I’m really sorry.”

“Yeah,” Samir says heavily, getting to his feet. “Me too.” He holsters his pistol. “I never did get your name.”

Carolina swallows. “MJ. Friends call me MJ.”

“MJ. Thanks.” Samir nods. “I’ll be back soon. It’s twenty minutes to the tower, fifteen back ‘cause it’s downhill. If I’m not…” He pauses in the doorway, looks over his shoulder at both of them in turn. “If I don’t make it back, you should run. I mean it.”

Carolina doesn’t answer that. Instead she finds Wash’s hand, gives it a squeeze. He returns it, weakly, but still there.

“Hurry back,” she says, and watches Illinois go.

[deans-fire-dragon]

What Comes After, SPN Fanfic, Gen, Chapter 10 part C

...continued from part b...

As soon as the door closed, Dean threw the congealed bacon back on the plate with a plop. He wrapped his arms around his middle, leaning forward until his forehead rest on the table. Hollowed out, he sighed and let his head roll to the side. He was sick of the ice block camping out in his gut, sick of the heaviness pulling at him constantly. He’d forgotten what it felt like to truly feel well. Maybe he was a corpse that didn’t yet know it was dead?

Everything was flat. The flavor of food, the temperature of coffee—even the colors around him seemed muted, slightly off. Dean didn’t want to scare Sam, but he scaring himself. Truth was, he wasn’t sure killing the shadow creature and unbinding Jessica would stop this. How could he be sure of anything when they had no precedence for this?

The only certainty he had was in how much he ached. His chest burned, his back throbbed and a whopper headache stabbed his brain relentlessly despite the medication saturating his system. Had he been alone, truly alone, he’d have curled up under a mass of blankets and let come what may.

He must’ve drifted off, because, in the next minute, the door opened again, letting Sam enter balancing two large coffees in a to-go container. Dean jerked into a sitting position, grinding his teeth on a moan when he remembered why that was a bad idea.

“Hey, if you’re tired, go rest after you eat. I can start researching and we’ll talk later.”

“Naw, I’m good.” He rubbed his gritty eyes hoping it would help the blurriness, but when he blinked, a hazy halo fuzzed everything.

“Here ya go,” Sam said as he dropped a plastic fork onto the table in front of Dean. “Too bad this place doesn’t have a microwave, huh? I could see if they’d let me use the microwave at the gas station?”

The false brightness lifting Sam’s words drew Dean’s focus to his little brother. Sam hovered beside him, the worry practically vibrating Dean’s teeth. For a brief moment, he imagined Sam cutting up the pancake for him and maybe even force-feeding it to him, such was the manic twitch of Sam’s fingers.

Dean picked up the fork and glared at the pancake. He didn’t think heating it up would make it more appetizing, but with Sam standing there watching intently, he cut into the cake and stuffed a bite in his mouth, forcing his jaws to move.

“I’m good. See?” He smiled with his mouth full. It was enough to get Sam moving on to other things.

The food tasted of nothing, just wet, sticky mush coating his teeth and tongue. He had to concentrate on keeping repulsion from clogging his throat, gag building in his gut. Taking a gulp of his coffee, he was disappointed to find it wasn’t much better. Though it looked black as tar, the taste was barely that of coffee water. It didn’t have the texture of mush, though, which was something. Mechanically, he shoved food in and forced himself to chew and swallow. Sweat broke out all over his body from the effort.

Sam reappeared to take the other seat and stole the last piece of cold bacon from the plate. Thank God. Dean raised an eyebrow at his salad loving brother only to double-take when he realized Sam’s hair was wet. His brother had apparently showered and dressed in fresh clothes all while he’d been grappling with the food.

“What?” Sam said, unaware of Dean’s inner thoughts. “I enjoy bacon.” Sam shrugged.

Dean simply pointed at the computer and drank another mouthful of coffee so he wouldn’t have to speak.

Wiping greasy fingers on the side of his jeans, Sam pulled the machine closer. “So? Creature or spell?”

Dean laid his fork aside. Nausea slow-rolled through his stomach with an uncertain turn.

“Creature.” He belched, one hand creeping up to rub at his stomach.

Shooting him a look of disgust, Sam opened his browser, letting his fingers hover over the keyboard. “So, what are we thinking?”

“Definitely the phantom variety. I’m thinking ancient and pissed.”

“And you know that because?”

“Yesterday I found ectoplasm where that girl, Julia, died.”

Sam’s jaw clenched as he sighed out his nose. “So, you went to not one, but two scenes without me.”

He reached up with both hands and scrubbed at his face, hoping to rub the irritation away. He was so not in the mood for another Sam inquisition—his nerves and his patience were stretched to their limit. Lips pressed together in a thin line, he glared at his brother.

“It was the freaking middle of the day. There was no reason it’d still be hanging around—especially that far out of the way. Even so, I doubt it would’ve been strong enough to hurt me there.”

“It had no problem killing Julia there.”

Oh, Dean hated that look. The one that said in blinking neon ‘you are the biggest moron on the planet.’ Maybe Dean hadn’t graduated with a diploma, and maybe Sam had enough brains for two people—but that did not make Dean the stupid one.

“Yeah, Sam,” Dean bared his teeth as his eyes narrowed, “an unsuspecting girl who was unprepared and caught off guard in the dark. She probably fed it all kinds of juicy emotion being alone like that. I’m hardly any of those things—I had full view of the whole area. Did I mention it was broad daylight? I’m not a drooling idiot despite what you think.”

Surprise defined Sam’s face and he held up his hands, palms out. “Whoa. I didn’t mean—”

“No, you never do,” Dean growled, “at least not to my face, but it’s what you really think.”

The words popped out before his brain could abort—something he rarely ever allowed. Now Sam regarded him with wide, slightly hurt eyes and no small amount of worry. The frustration and anger fled so quickly, he was left aching and empty.

“I’m sorry.” Dean bowed his head, rubbed his forehead with a shaky hand. “I’m an ass. Really, man, I’m sorry.”

If anything, his apology made things worse because now Sam had that constipated look he got when he wasn’t sure what emotion he wanted to lead with—concern, anger? Flip a quarter, Dean thought with an internal sigh.

“So,” Dean cleared his throat, swallowed to keep the food in place, and tried to steer things back on track, “we’re looking for something with ectoplasm, cats’ eyes—really tall, nasty claws and a nasty temper to match. And, wind. Wind tore the room apart despite the outside air being completely calm.”

Sam fixed his gaze on the floor and pursed his lips. At first Dean thought maybe he was waiting. For what, Dean didn’t know—the roof to fall on their heads, Dean to implode before his eyes—who could be sure when it came to Sam’s enormous capacity for worry. But then he realized his brother was contemplating whether or not to speak to him at all. Anger, it was.

“Sammy, please,” Dean whispered when all attempts to catch Sam’s eyes failed, “you can be mad at me all you want, but please—let’s figure this out.”

Just about the time Dean shifted to leave the table, Sam nodded. Stiffness making his voice flat, he said, “Okay, that’s a place to start.” He started typing in the search window. “What about the spell?”

He still wouldn’t meet Dean’s eyes, but at least he was talking. Dean would take it with a smile on his face—as long as they kept moving forward.

“Now that, I don’t know. We know fire is involved and it requires an object that was important to the person. Probably used to bind the spirit?  I thought maybe…” Dean yawned, his jaw cracking loudly. “I thought we could put in a call to Bobby for that one.”

“Yeah, okay,” Sam said. He stopped what he was doing and looked up. “I got it covered, why don’t you rest?”

The words came grudgingly, but they were said to Dean’s face and with sincerity. Sam’s face was still marred with a deep scowl, though, and that just wouldn’t do. Dean graced him with a blinding, goofy grin. Sam valiantly tried to ignore him, but he held firm, smile in place until his checks burned and a good portion of it became genuine.

Seeing Sam relenting, he topped it off with a waggle of his eyebrows. “Who’s your favorite brother?”

Finally, Sam’s lips twitched and he shook his head, grin sliding across his face. He narrowed his eyes and cracked, “If you’re not careful, it’s gonna get stuck that way. Jerk.”

As Sam’s eyes searched his, Dean could practically feel him pick right back up where he left off stewing.

“Dude, you’re sweaty and green. You’re not coming down with something, are you?”

Dean slumped against his chair. “No. But if I spew, it’s gonna be in your direction. I told you I wasn’t hungry.”

Sam’s obligatory glare lacked any real heat. “Go. Lay. Down.”

He glanced at the bed and wondered if he could get away with a few minutes. Sleep called like a siren and the meds had him wrapped in a fuzzy, woolen cocoon. He reasoned there was enough light in the room to keep him from dozing too soundly and his body could really use some rest. Plus, Sammy was here to watch over him. He trusted his brother to keep him safe.

“If I start to dream—at all—you wake me up. Got it?”

Sam nodded mindlessly, already immersed in some article on the internet.

“Sam,” he said sharply. “I mean it. Don’t let me dream.”

At that, his brother looked up. He took in Dean’s seriousness and said, “Sure, man. Don’t worry. I got it.”

Satisfied, Dean pushed his chair back and stood. A wave of dizziness swamped him and he grabbed for the table. He felt Sam catch his other wrist, steadying him. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on that touch, wishing it felt solid on his numb skin like it should. He released the table to press the back of his hand to his mouth, swallowing hard and breathing deep through his nose until all was settled again. Blinking his eyes open, he looked down at his brother. Sam’s eyes were saucer wide, making him look so much the little kid Dean remembered—before all this, before the YED, before Stanford, before.

“Dean?”

“Stood up too fast.” He smiled, easy and calm.

Dean gently took his arm back, giving Sam’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze before he turned and walked unsteadily to his bed—shoulders twitching from being watched each step of the way. He crawled on top of the covers and settled with a hearty sigh, moaning his pleasure into the soft pillow he burrowed his face into and closed his eyes. He pushed all his fears into his worry box and slammed the door firmly shut. It felt luxurious to let go and sink into the bed. Screw consciousness, it was highly overrated anyway.

After a while, Sam’s breaths behind him calmed too and were joined by light tapping on the keyboard—making a soothing soundtrack to relax into. His stomach called a shaky truce and he was able to fall into sleep a short while later.

After indeterminate, blessed nothingness, the dreams came. They started out mild enough, but soon evolved into him on the ceiling, burning as Jessica reached out to him. As before, he was too grief stricken and wrapped in guilt to decipher the message.

This place—and he was sure it was a place—overpowered his senses, overrode reason. The acrid fire, the metallic blood, the scorching skin—all vivid and distinct. Sam’s inhuman, garbled screams rammed his battered heart and the smell of burning pork assaulted his nose—the lingering taste of ash pungent on his tongue. No bland numbness, no fuzzy head and blurring vision to save him here. Pain bubbled and peeled his skin, every nerve dancing in sharp agony.

This time, instead of slamming him repeatedly against the ceiling, Jessica laid a hand on his face, the icy cold of her drawing some of the heat away. A relieved groan escaped him, the flames receding down the length of his body at her cooling touch.

“Dean,” she said, drawing her hand down his face, resting it on his lower jaw. “Please, let go.”

His eyes opened and he blinked at her. “Let go? I-I don’t know…I—

“Let go,” she whispered inches from his face. “It’s time. Stop.”

Dean stared into her blue-blue eyes—compassion and something he didn’t understand held him captive. Maybe she meant for him to let go of life. Maybe that’s how Sam would find release, if he let go. But, he couldn’t. There was something dangerous out there. He couldn’t leave Sam to fight alone. He couldn’t without making sure he was safe first. Maybe then, maybe then he could.

“I can’t,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Sam…”

Jessica whipped around to look behind her. Dean couldn’t see beyond the flames, didn’t know what she was looking at, but he felt her touch slip away. The fire took over in her absence. He squeezed his eyes shut and sealed his lips against the scream clawing at his throat. His chest heaved with moans as he failed. A large hand rested on his chest, right over his heart—a heavy, steadying weight. An additional hand joined the first to grip his upper arm and, while this touch didn’t take the pain instantly away, it dulled it into the background.

From a distance, he could hear his name.

“Dean! Please. Please wake up.”

He tried to resist, he didn’t want to see. Nausea grew in his gut until he gagged with it. A rippling sensation rolled over his body and he struggled to breathe through the gossamer shroud enveloping him.

“Dean, hey!”

Sam’s voice pulled him against the barrier separating them. But he didn’t know which Sam he would see if he opened his eyes. A biting burn deep in his neck forced his eyes open, air flooding into his lungs. His Sam, the real Sam, leaned over him, ashen and sweaty—looking sick. Which, yeah.

“Gonna be sick!” Dean choked out, shoving away blankets that hadn’t been there before.

A small, grimy trashcan appeared under his face and he heaved violently. By the end of it, tears wet his face and his whole body trembled. Dean slumped against the headboard, muscles weak and rubbery. Sam brought him a glass of water to rinse his mouth out and then set the trash can aside. He winced at Sam’s shaking hands running through his lanky hair.

Visibly gathering himself, Sam asked, “Is that what it was like? Last night?”

“Uh, yeah. More or less, I guess.” Clearing his throat, he pushed himself further up the headboard to sit. “Wh-what happened?”

Sam’s knee jut into his thigh when he turned into him. His little brother had always had the boniest, sharpest knees—it was a familiar comfort.

“Um…well,” he faltered. “For the first hour…was it an hour? I don’t know, maybe a little more…” he shook his head. Earnest, like Dean might not believe him, he said, “You just slept. N-nothing unusual.”

He reached out and squeezed Sam’s leg, hoping to calm him. Letting him know he wasn’t alone.

“I was in the bathroom when I heard you making noise, talking maybe? I thought you’d be okay until I finished. But, uh—by the time I got out here, you were—god, Dean—you were keening through your teeth—your back was bowed off the bed. I tried to shake you awake, but I couldn’t-I couldn’t…and y-you were burning up… I-I don’t know if it was fever or, or...”

Sam looked to Dean, one hand wiping across his mouth. He let it drop away and said, “I swear, your skin glowed from within and I smelled smoke. How’s that—how can that be? What were you dreaming about?”

Dean closed his eyes. There were ten million other questions he’d rather answer. How could he say those words? Describe to his little brother the pain of watching the skin melt from his bones even as he, himself, burned on the ceiling? Like his girlfriend—like their…

He sure as hell couldn’t tell his brother about the letting go part. Sam continued on, though. The kid couldn’t stop, words tumbling out before he could settle on a single thought.

“I couldn’t wake you up. You-you wouldn’t wake up,” Sam’s voice faltered and he wiped at his nose.  “You fell deeper into the dream and I couldn’t pull you out. You had stopped moving and were barely breathing and I—”

Dean let go of Sam’s knee to squeeze his forearm, stopping the manic speech.

“I’m awake now. You did good—I’m okay.”

“I had to pinch your trapezoid muscle hard, Dean. It was the only thing that worked.” Sam huffed a nervous chuckle. “You’ll probably have a bruise. Talk to me, man. Tell me what’s going on. Please?”

“Gimme a minute. I need....” He tried clearing the sand from his voice, but it stuck like cement. “Help me up.”

He pushed himself from the headboard to sit on the side of the bed next to Sam. Once settled, he asked, “We got anything to drink?” His throat burned like he’d actually inhaled fire and smoke. He could taste it on his tongue.

“Just tap water,” Sam said.

“Anything,” Dean told him, “Whatever we got.”

He returned with the glass of water and Dean drank it all down. Sam’s nose crinkled in disgust before he flopped boneless into the nearest chair.

“I’m worried about you,” he said after a drawn pause. “You’re really scaring me.”

Dean found himself answering honestly. “Me, too. But… it’s gonna be okay. We always find a way. You just gotta believe in that.”

Sam pursed his lips as if to say more, but ended up nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Dean felt warm wetness tickling his upper lip and touched his fingers to it. Blood. Sam’s distressed expression, when their eyes met, caused a current of anger at himself, at his weakness, to surge through him. Yanking a handful of cheap tissues from the box at his bedside, he tilted his head back and pinched his nose roughly. He was glad when it hurt.

“I’m okay,” he told Sam. Dipping his chin at the laptop, he asked, “Did you find anything?”

Sam studied him for a moment, his questions still hanging in the air between them. Dean shut his eyes and hoped for space—everything was too fresh, there was too much. Please, Sammy, please. I just can’t right now, please let it be. He counted on Sam understanding the unspoken message. Dean heard him sigh before tapping his touchpad.

“Looks like we’re dealing with a Sumerian utukku—commonly known as an ekimmu. Can be twice as tall as a human with a humanoid body. Violent death and leaving the body unburied seems to be their origin. They tend to be vengeful toward the living and they can’t find peace without a resting place—basically, a spirit driven insane by their own unrest and violent death.”

Sam looked meaningfully at Dean as he read the next part. “They are sometimes referred to as “evil wind gusts” because of the wind associated with their presence. They’re able to attach to people even if they have nothing to do with their death, can influence people—amp up their emotions, even cause criminal behavior. Besides feeding off flesh and blood, they feed off the energy of human emotions and can take someone’s spiritual life force to replenish themselves.”

“Peachy,” Dean lifted his head and looked over, eyebrows raised. “Sounds like our guy.”

“Yeah, pretty spot on. Maybe even explains why I got so mad this morning. I remember being so angry ever since I left the apartment last night—almost overwhelmed by it. Do you think the ekimmu has anything to do with what’s going on with you?”

“I don’t see how.” Dean shook his head as he tossed the tissues. “Nothing you described explains how I’m feeling.” Raising both brows, he said, “I’m thinking, though, its current host isn’t able to sustain it and that’s why it’s randomly striking out at whoever is convenient.” Dean waited for Sam to connect the dots himself.

Sam cocked his head. “What, you think…you think it’s attached to Jess?”

“It would explain some things. If that’s what her initial message to me was about, that she needed help?” Dean watched Sam closely, hoping each next word wouldn’t be the one that broke the camel’s back. “But now it’s killing randomly because it can’t feed on something with no life force… but they can’t separate fully either, so it can’t attach to anyone else and, when it weakens, it always gets pulled back to Jessica.”

Sam shook his head. “But is that possible? Can a spirit attach to a spirit?”

“I don’t know. Maybe not attachment. Maybe bound together because of the binding spell? Whatever the case, the ekimmu will keep lashing out at whoever gets in its way until its strong enough to break free and find some poor soul to ride.”

Sam sat for a long while thinking. Dean could see the flashes of emotion crossing his brother’s face and he hated how he’d had to put these thoughts about his girl in his head. He could imagine which direction Sam’s thoughts had taken.

“You think she’s suffering?” Sam finally asked. “You think it’s hurting her?”

Dean wished he had a pat answer. “I don’t know. I doubt it can hurt her like it can a living person. Whatever it’s capable of, it’s probably moved on from her when it realized she was a spirit too.”

Sam nodded, seemed accepting of that. His lips thinned and his face became stony hard. “We have to get this thing. Whether it’s hurting her or not, I want it dead.”

“Yeah, I know.” Dean held his gaze, lips pushing together. “I know you do.” He said with as much confidence as he could muster, “And we will.” Sam bobbed his head once and turned back to his laptop. “So,” Dean asked, “you find out how we kill this thing?”

“Uh, well,” Sam scrolled down the website. “Says here giving the body a proper burial usually does the trick. But, obviously that’s not an option since we have no way of knowing who it once was or where the body would be. Some of the stuff I read suggested there was a ritual or maybe some kind of exorcism that sometimes worked, but I’ll need to research it more to know for sure. And,” Sam said, “we may need to do the unbinding spell first.”

Dean heard the implication. If they didn’t unbind Jessica from this thing, she might get dragged down into the exorcism with the ekimmu or, her being part of the deal, the exorcism might not work at all.

“Yeah, I agree.” Dean rubbed his hands together. “So we’ll have to find a way to trap it at least until that’s done. Shouldn’t be too hard, almost everything has something that works. Okay, so I guess we need to figure out the binding spell next.”

“Yeah, I called Bobby while you were sleeping. He said he’ll call back when he finds something.”

Nodding his head, Dean wiggled his toes in the carpet. “You heard from Becky today?”

“Yeah…called her too. She said there was no change in Aaron.” Sam turned away from the open page on the computer screen. “You think whatever is happening to Aaron can be reversed? Because I’ve been thinking—there’s no physical reason he should be in a coma. It’s like he’s sleeping, like those kids in Wisconsin with the Shtriga. Maybe it was the ekimmu, not Jess.”

Dean thought about that. It hadn’t occurred to him before, but Sam had a good point. Leaning forward, Dean rested his aching head in his hands. “Well, you said it feeds on psychic energy, so basically it’s the same deal. Maybe it couldn’t kill him because Jessica wouldn’t let it?”

“Right, because she was there at the hospital, too. So, if—when—we kill this thing, he should wake up, right?”

“Maybe. Definitely a possibility.”

Sam nodded and stretched his long legs out in front of himself. “Think we should tell Becky and the others?”

“Uh, I don’t know. I mean, what if we’re wrong? What if…” he left the sentence hanging, unable to finish it. He didn’t want to think about Sam’s friend not waking up. He looked at Sam, knowing how much hurt losing Aaron would cause. How much these people meant to his brother. They’d been his family when Dean couldn’t be. And if Dean had to leave…

“I’ve been thinking, too,” Dean said. A lump rose in his throat. He wasn’t sure he could force the words out now that he was faced with saying them out loud. “Maybe, when we’re done here…maybe—if you wanted—you could stay.”

“What?” Sam’s faced wrinkled, the words not absorbing. “What are you talking about?”

Dean looked down, nodded. “Look, it’s okay. If you want to stay, go back to school…I’m saying you could do that.”

Sam scoffed, shaking his head. “Right. Where’s this coming from? How hard did you hit your head, man?”

When Dean leveled his serious expression Sam’s way and said nothing, Sam laughed a little hysterically. “No, Dean, I couldn’t do that and you know why.”

“Come on, Sam. Dad and I, we can keep looking for the demon—we can keep him off your back—”

“You don’t even know where Dad is and I’m in this now. Jess was my girlfriend—I need to be a part of this. You’re the one who keeps saying we’re stronger together!”

“I know, but just think about it,” Dean said, beseeching. “It’s not too late for you. You’ve got good friends here, a family. They miss you and I think you miss them.  Dad and I, we can keep you in the loop, but you can stay. Get on with your life.”

“What the hell, Dean?! Do you want me to stay? Is that what you want? Because I—I thought we were in this together.”

No, Dean thought. But it’s not about what I want. It’s about what you need. “It’s just…Dad and I can do this without you and, uh, I think it’d be better if you stayed as far away from this demon as possible. It wants you for a reason—but if you’re not available? One less thing to worry about.”

Dean wanted to vomit even as he said the words. Nothing could be further from what he wanted, but Chris’s words kept echoing in his ears. Even Jessica urged him to let go—maybe this is what she meant? Maybe she knew what the demon wanted? No matter the logic in it, though, wrongness dug deep in his gut. Watching the hurt confusion rippling across Sam’s face, maybe his brother felt the same. The aching pressure in his chest ballooned until the physical pain made him want to double over. He forced himself to breathe through it and keep strong.

Sam swallowed and dropped his gaze. “I thought…I can’t believe…” Pressing his lips out, he nodded. “If that’s what you think. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should stay.”

The words fell like dead weights in the air between them. For the strangest few seconds, Dean was blissfully numb—his brain couldn’t register what his ears had heard. Once it sank in, though, his breath hitched in his chest and it was all he could do to keep his face straight. Some small part of him had hoped Sam would refuse.

Going it alone, leaving his brother unprotected—not knowing if Sam was safe day to day—could he really do this? Could he go back to days, weeks, months of silence, no human interaction beyond working the case—constantly wondering if his family was safe, if they ever thought about him too? Just one big blur of one hunt melting into the next until he lost track of the whens and wheres. ‘Cause he knew, he absolutely did know Dad wouldn’t be joining him, he’d be on his own again. He could hear his dad’s commanding baritone, Too risky, Dean. I need you boys safe. Stick close to Sam. But Sam would never have to know, would he?

TBC…

[italicwatches]

[legacy content] My Hero Academia - Episode 01

I am a bundle of nerves. And not just in the literal “I have so damn many nerve endings in my body right now” sense. …Anyways, let’s try to fight the nerves back with a new show. This is another one where I’m playing to the crowd, to build up for doing something that’s really just for me. So it’s My Hero Academia time! Here’s what I know: Superheroes. People like it a lot. The manga’s of the next gen now that the Big Three are a thing of an age ago. Let’s see how it turns out, in My Hero Academia, episode 01! Here we GO!

-I…Okay, Hulu has literally decided it no longer wants to work on my tablet. It worked literally perfectly the last time I watched something on it. …Okay. Funimation app it is.

-We begin, with…Oh my god did you seriously just start the ads over because I switched to Japanese audio. Oh my god this is awful. Oh my god this is the worst. How long is their free trial, again?

-Okay, we’re back. We begin, with a young boy, defending a crying friend. And he’s terrified…But he’s willing to fight…Okay. Okay the fucking captions aren’t lining up. I can’t WORK LIKE THIS.

-Got Hulu working. Little baby protagonist, scared. HEY THE SUBS WORK RIGHT. He’s gonna fight! But the bullies have superpowers! Stretchy parts, and wings, and fire, and our hero kid Deku…Does not. So he gets the shit kicked out of him, because at the age of four, he learned that all men are not created equal…

-But he made a fuckin’ choice. He could’ve let himself remain lesser, or he could pull himself up, and claw up every scrap he could from this world. And as we come into the now, Deku, real name Izuku Midoriya, is a spry, athletic youth who doesn’t shy away from the conflicts of supers, from engaging his fan-boyish joy in these broad displays…

-Opening! No subs, of course. Will that be fixed? Look, I’m just hoping I can actually watch the show.

-And we get some history. It began in China. A baby was born that gave off a constant source of light…And then, all around the world, others were born with powers, extraordinary abilities. Some of them from birth, some finding them in puberty…The supernatural, the extraordinary, became ordinary. 80% of the population now has some kind of power, some unique thing. It’s a place of chaos, but as in all times, one can look for the helpers. The good souls, the warriors of justice…

-The superheroes.

-And as the huge villain that Deku’s watching kicks an entire electrical line and its tower down, another man races in, catching it! The hero Death Arms, with overwhelming physical strength, holds the entire structure upright…As a water controller, Backdraft, quickly creates a safety line! It seems this crook’s a glorified bag snatcher, but lost control and went monstrous. And that’s when fangirl favorite Kamui leaps in for the actual restraint, as Deku gets his way up to the front of the safety line to watch…Kamui Woods, the rising star! One of the other guys watching can recognize such an eager fan of the local heroes, as our barked hero is flung back…But he doesn’t even flinch, sprouting branches from his arms, to unleash the PRE-EMPTIVE, BINDING, LACQUERED CHAIN PRISON!

-Except CANYON CANNON! A giantess leaps in from the side, and kicks the monster-man right in the side of the fuckin’ head, making her big hero debut! Mt. Lady is here, ands is nowhere near above showing off her ass to the fanboys and oglers in the audience if it gets her attention. As we see, there’s an explosion in crime, but also an explosion in those who war against that crime. With the efforts to adjust the laws, the police and the system to deal with all of this slow in coming, the people had to take efforts themselves…Until heroes became an accepted standard, a way of life.

-It’s since become an official position, a government job with serious paychecks and some real perks…And Deku, not even noticing the whole fan service angle, is busy jotting down his analysis of her actual combat and her macro power. Which is very impressive, but means she could cause real damage to the city, so she’s probably going to be of limited use and only called in for the biggest threats, unless she can control how big she gets…

-Episode 01! Izuku Midoriya: Origin

-Then it’s to Aldera Junior High, where in class, the question of what to do is a thing. Many students in their future are, of course, intending to be heroes…With Katsuki Bakugo, one smug motherfucker, intending to get up to the top. To not just be some small-town local hero, but to be the big deal. He’s even passed the mock tests, and intends to be even better than the top hero, All Might himself! And he’s going to get there by going to the top school in the nation for supers, the best of the best…

-Oh and our protagonist also wants to go there. Despite his lack of powers. And then people are laughing at him and he’s getting a bit freaked out…And what are you gonna do, man?

-Which is when, at 12:02 PM, a slime monster is fleeing, another bag-snatcher type who took a bunch of cash, and yet all the local heroes are filling out paperwork back at the office…When one man chooses to bulk up, and step in to get involved…

-Commercial break!

-And we are back! The school day is over, and our humble protagonist is ready to head home…When Katsuki steals his notebook right out of his hand. This is…Right, look, I’m gonna level with you, I’m having a hard time get through these scenes. So you know what, we’re cutting through the detailed analysis. Katsuki is a piece of shit, burns the notebook, I want to see him broken, and the only reason I am willing to push through is because it is necessary.

-And on our protagonist’s way home, we cut to young Izuku watching an old video as a child…All Might’s debut, a hellish crash scene, the man who dove in and hauled people out by the dozen…Who became a symbol. Not the first hero, but the one who changed the world…Who made people believe in the real might of heroism. In the idea that one could do great things…

-And then, the doctor’s visit. The one where Izuku’s Quirk seems to simply not exist. His mother has powers of physical attraction(as in, she can force objects to come to her hands), and his father can breathe fire…Izuku should have shown one of these, or else something unique…As we see a, well, quirk. A telltale sign. Whatever process started the powers developing, it also rejected a few unnecessary parts of baseline humans…The simplest one to check? An extra joint in your pinky toe. Your average super has a single joint there; Izuku, has two. Like you or I.

-And he went from watching those videos with giddy joy, with desire to save others as the man he so idolized…To watching them in despair, in depression, in the vain and futile hope that something would change…Why the fuck did I commit to this. Why, the fuck, did I do this to myself. As young Izuku’s mother fell into sobs, at the despair of her boy…

-And back in the now, Izuku tries to fire himself up, tries to hold on, as he cuts through a tunnel. He made a fucking choice. He chose to keep pushing forward. There’s only one way to show a guy like Katsuki, and it’s to prove him wrong the hard way…!

-But as he passes through…The slime creature rises up, choosing to try and take him over and use his body as a shell with which to escape! Izuku struggles, fighting, trying to save himself, as the thing drowns him in its own muck…His notebook falls, and he sees childhood designs of his own theoretical costume…Will this be his last sight…?!

-No. Because All Might has chased this thing down right here. He dodges a vicious whipping blow from the slime, and unleashes, a single blow…The TEXAS SMASH, whose mere hellish pressure slams through the slime’s entire body, knocking it to pieces and freeing our young hero! He falls to the ground, losing consciousness, but alive…

-And when Izuku comes back to…It’s with fuckin’ All Might himself staring over him, trying to make sure he’s okay! All Might, who apologizes to the young man for getting caught up in things, but there’s nothing to fear! And he’s caught the slime creature safely, by emptying some soda bottles and putting the thing-that-was-once-a-man in them! Hahahahaha!

-And Izuku freaks out a little bit, okay a lot, and oh god think he needs an autograph okay notebook—ALL MIGHT ALREADY SIGNED IT FOR HIM HOLY SHIIIIIT

-So All Might has to get going…And good luck and good day, young man! But as he prepares to get going, Izuku is caught up, still feeling like he needs to ask something…When All Might realizes, a bit belatedly as he leaps into the sky, that this young fan is still clinging to his leg. Well this is a problem. But okay! You have questions, then just hold on tight, he’ll make a safe landing somewhere better…And then All Might has to hold back a cough. One that’s…a bit bloody…

-So the duo end up landing on a rooftop, where Izuku is barely able to stand, but he made it. And now All Might has to really get going…But Izuku, Izuku, who’s idolized this man for his entire life, who…Who feels so inadequate before his hero…Who…Can’t get the questions, the yearning, the overwhelming desire for a single scrap of encouragement, past his lips…

-Until finally, he has to squeeze his eyes shut, has to clench his fists, and beg to know. Can a man without a Quirk, become a great hero? Could a nobody like him, hope to be someone like you, All Might?!

-And that gets the hero to stop. To look back, and really see young Izuku for the first time. Not as just another fan, or a bystander in a battle…But a young man who truly needs a hero…

-Credits!

Well, that had some heavy, tough moments, to be sure. But we’re through the first episode, and now things will hopefully change. Not least, I’m hoping one of these fucking apps actually works correctly. Seriously, how is it so hard to do subbed anime correctly…

Ahem. Anyways, look forward to more content next time, in episode TWO of My Hero Academia! Wait for it!

[moonwolfhowl]

Octo Exchange Letter!

Hiyo, first off I’m moonwolfhowl on tumblr and nightmoonz on AO3. I’m really excited that you got me and I just want to thank you so much and I hope you have a bunch of fun with this!! 

Secondly, here are a couple things that I like and dislike, (and some prompts but you can take��‘em or leave ‘em). If you’re not 100% sure on if something is or isn’t my deal my ask box is open and the anon option is turned on.  

Ratings: T-M

General Things I Really Like:

Things I like!

AUs! No, seriously, every kind of AU

Humor! Especially: sarcasm, witty banter, etc…

Angst and hurt/comfort are awesome!

Slow Burns

MUTUAL PINING  and idiots who don’t realize they like/are in love with each other

found families

Fake relationship/dating/marriage you know for a cover/mission/(fill in the blank)

friends to lovers

enemies to lovers

enemies to friends to lovers

strangers to friends to lovers

Happy Endings!! 

General Things I REALLY Dislike/Do Not Want:

Character Bashing

Abuse of any kind

Cheating

Harm to animals

Non-Con/Dub-Con 

Incest

Mpreg

Major Character Death

Unrequested Pairings

Scat and/or Watersports

Spiders especially Tarantulas, this is a huge trigger for me

Okay! I’m gonna put a break here because this is a long post. 

some ridiculous prompts!

So these are just some silly prompts that you can take from or ignore altogether! It’s really just some ideas that you can look to if you’re stuck or need a jumping off point.  And please, if you already had an idea please feel free to go with that instead, I’m sure it’s awesome!! 

Also if you have any questions the anon option is turned on for my ask box.

I’ll separate these prompts with character specific prompts and then have gen/shippy and/or platonic relationship prompts so you have a couple of options. 

Again I just want you to know, I seriously will not be offended if you don’t want to do any of these prompts I really just want you to have fun  =^__^=

Character prompts

Therion

My little trash bandit!!! (Who I will fight, die and kill for) Ok, I know this is cheesy but Therion having his first Apple Pie ; __ ;

it can be when he’s little or an adult, AU, Canonverse or Canon divergent

it can be a Birthday treat to himself, it can be the first thing he pays for with money he earned on his own, if you want to include any character I put in my sign up sheet please feel free! And if (and only if) you want to include Cyrus or H’aanit then by all means go for it!

Therion actually pursuing acting! 

But in all honestly I just really l want to see Therion happy and for him to have nice things  ;;; __ ;;;

Prim

I don’t really have a prompt for her but I can tell you I picture her as the troll-y big sister type. I feel like she adopted this persona in Sunshade or maybe just with the octofam, either way I just see her making everyone’s life hell just cuz and it’s fantastic XD.

(I would not object to seeing Prim enlisting Tressa and Ophilia teasing Therion XD) 

Tressa

My adorable little gremlin who has never done anything wrong in her life. I will fight and die for her. 

In canon she has a pet squirrel which is so adorable and so her! So if you want to go wild with an ‘A girl and her squirrel’ type of story I won’t complain.

Tressa spear fishing

Leon

I love how much of his character is wrapped up in mystery so I was thinking maybe: 

What his life was like in Victor’s Hollow? 

Did he stowaway onto the first ever ship he sailed on

Did he ever buy a ship before he rebuilt Baltazar’s? Or did he just steal them >:3 (speaking of which if you wanna include Baltazar you definitely can but please don’t feel like you have to <3 )

Does he have a thing for the arts? Is that why he’s particularly enamored endeared to Tressa spotting the painting? What was it like when he obtained the painting Tressa would later admire?  

Cordelia

I love Cordelia and I think she’s underrated. She’s been through quite a lot and her faith in my best boy helped him in so many ways ; w ; 

I would love to see her having a huge struggle with her writing. You can include everything and anything from: head banging against a desk, crumpled up pieces of paper, scowling at her notebook or doing something else to take her mind off of it for a bit 

I also wouldn’t mind to see her walking through Bolderfall visiting each layer of the city and helping it thrive

Tbh anything. I love her and she deserves the world

Ophilia

I don’t really have any prompts for her but she’s so sweet, I just wouldn’t mind seeing or knowing more about her!

Gen, Shippy and/or Platonic Prompts

Cordelia Ravus/Therion (Thordelia)

Actor & Author releationship: AU, Canonverse or Canon divergent you name it! (This can be platonic or shippy! I have a personal preference towards it being shippy but if it’s not your ship that’s totally okay!) 

So remember when Prim told Therion actors make more in a day than thieves make in a year? And lol Cordelia wrote cool stories of a romantic nature (The Princess and the Noble Thief XD) and sent them off to Noa? 

I dunno I just think this would be really really cute if Cordelia and Therion worked on a play together. She’d write it and Therion would act in it, they could either just become friends or... friends to lovers XD. Also I would not be opposed to Prim and Tressa teasing TF out of Therion. 

Actually ngl anything with them, it can be fluffy, hurt/comfort, mutual pining. Anything. my thirst is real

Tressa Colzione/Leon Bastralle

gods I love them so much.

Any kind of them traveling together and developing feels on the open seas

Meeting at an Art Museum AU

Actually again ngl like Thordelia above anything feel free to go where your muse takes you

Some or all of the characters I requested (and if you’d like you can also include Cyrus, Olberic, and H’aanit but of course you are not obligated to do so <3)

Prank wars! 

Exactly what it sounds like, everyone plays light hearted pranks on each other. 

You can use any setting for this Canonverse, Canon divergent or AUs

Really ANY and ALL AUs (Coffee Shop Au, Mechanic AU, College AU, Tattoo shop AU, Magical School AU, Fantasy AU, Pac Rim AU, legit all the AUs in the world are pretty chill with me)

Tressa Colzione & Ophilia Clement & Prim Azelhart 

Good Old Fashion found family bonding!

I’d love this to be about them being close and/or bonding! I found their travel banter with each other very sweet and I just think some lighthearted teasing, gossiping (or ruining their fellow traveler’s lives by teasing them) would be adorable. 

Very Shippy prompt! Tressa x Leon or Thordelia (however if you wanna include other side ships like Olberhardt or H’aanit x Ophilia for example you can go for it!)

Masquerade! Can be Canonverse, Canon Divergent or AU! 

A Masquerade ball in which

They can either know each other beforehand or not

Halloween Party, Adults, College AU

idk this is just something to have fun with and hey lol if you wanna make it more mature feel free

If none of these appeal then please don’t worry! I just hope you have fun!!!