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into-crazy · 4 years ago

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horror and chill

Ledger!Joker x Female Reader one shot

Summary: You and J watch a horror flick. Eventually you both grow bored, turning your attention onto one another. You don't make it through the movie.

Warnings- Cursing, NSFW, SMUT, fingering, edging, orgasm denial, light knife play, spanking, use of the word daddy(once), unprotected sex, brief degradation, choking, light blood play, J style fluff, ages 18+

This sort of popped into my head while I was watching a scary movie. I'm a sucker for watching horror movies in the dark. Let's just say my self indulgences deff kicked in with this one whew! Also forewarning, it’s very long.

The month of October has always been a favorite for you. That time of the year when Autumn is in full effect. The air outside is cooled down, where it's not too hot and not quite cold yet. Seasonal items return with a comeback, available to stock up on- whether they be edible goodies or scented candles. Then, of course, there's Halloween. Or spooky season, as the kids like to call it.

That special time where watching horror movies is an absolute must. Ordering takeout, nothing on but panties and an oversized tee, cuddling on the couch with a blanket, turning out all of the lights, and blasting the volume on the television to get the full effect. Yeah, it's one of your most prized traditions.

You and Joker have been together for well over year now. Let's just say he was around this time last year. He knew of your passion for this month, but he hasn't fully experienced it with you. Since that was a point where your relationship- if that's what you want to call it- was still fresh. Too early to establish complete trust and understanding in one another. Actually, you believe that still may be the case for J.

Not that you have anything against it. He's a highly complex and guarded man, he has a difficult time trusting people. In fact, he doesn't. But he's allowed you- and no one else- to come this close into his life, and it's pretty damn close. He trusts you enough and he's trying. There's nothing you'd ever do to betray that. You've come to accept it'll take a longer period before you'd get there fully.

Though it can be rough sometimes, you've had your fair share of fights. But he's never given you a reason to leave. You trust him, you've grown to love him. And while J would never confess to it, would never say it aloud, he adores you. He shows it in everything that he does for you. As for love, you've become aware and accepted that the word doesn't apply to him. He can't love. And that's okay.

Fast forward over to now, already a week into October. It's a Saturday night, and you're ready to continue your cherished routine, but with your beloved J. You've only watched two horror flicks thus far. Both nights had been alone, minus him and the takeout. He's been busy with his usual chaotic jobs, which kept him out later hours into the night. However you don't care about that right now, he called and informed you that he'll be home for tonight's showing.

"An' don't ah, don't ya dare start without me." J warned on the other end of the phone line.

"Well then you better hurry back," you playfully teased into the phone, "I already ordered the pizza and the movie is set to play."

That conversation ended about forty minutes ago. You sat on the couch in your shared apartment, waiting for him. Everything good to go, pizza has arrived, scented candles are lit, movie ready to proceed at the click of a button, and the lights are off- save for the small lamp by the entryway. The overall setting feeling eerily, just how you like it. It also feels quite romantic, which is a bonus.

You're wearing one of J's dress shirts with a blush thong underneath. Wrapped snug in a huge fluffy blanket in your designated spot(rightfully decided by you as this was your apartment first). Since he prefers to keep the apartment cold, you tend to get chilly a lot. Which was fine considering you have J and a vast selection of blankets to keep you warm. Currently, you have the blanket. All that's missing is J.

What's taking him so long? I'm gonna start the movie, I don't care. He'll just have to deal with it.. and I'm not rewinding it either.

You began to ponder while sitting in silence. Fingers tapping impatiently on the remote, debating whether or not you should carry on without him. With a loud huff, you glance over at the pizza box on the small table directly in front of you. In the amount of time you've waited, you managed to eat two slices already.

Then, you heard the familiar ruffling noise at the front door. The sound of the lock hurriedly being turned getting you to shoot your eyes towards it without moving your head. The door swings open and in walks J in all his glory, quickly shutting and locking the closure behind him.

"I'm home-ah!" A lilt in his voice as he exaggerates his arrival.

"You're late," you return displeasingly.

He narrows his glare at you, "well uh, hello to you too."

Rolling your eyes, you motion with your fingers, "I was this close to starting the movie without you. What took you so long?"

J works on shrugging off his plum trench coat. "What can I say? It was such a ah, easy breeze to get here." He throws sarcastically.

Shaking your head, you laugh, "I'm sorry J, I didn't mean to sound rude. I just missed you is all." You really do appreciate the extra efforts he goes through to make sure he gets here safe and undetected. To not be traced or followed. Be it by his fellow rivals, Gotham police, and in some cases- the Batman.

"Yeah doll, I know," he licks his lips, "I know." You watch him remove a few of his other articles to get more comfortable. His face paint isn't too disheveled which tells you his day went rather smoothly. Or as he prefers to call it- boring.

You open up the blanket to make space for him. Patting the empty spot right next to you, "hurry and get over here, pizza's getting cold."

Left in his purple slacks, dress shirt, and socks, he shuts off the last light before making his way over to plop onto the couch next to you. He allows you to snuggle against him. With the cover behind him, he doesn't feel the need to wrap himself in it. You, on the other hand, have your end burrito wrapped over you. Finally, you stick your hand out the blanket to hit play on the remote.

Twenty minutes in, you were beginning to grow less and less interested in the film. Nothing but a predictable storyline with a bunch of weak jump scares. Not to mention the overly cheesy acting. Though it wasn't completely terrible, it had a few good points to it. However this film probably won't make it onto your rewatch list. You failed to previously read the reviews for this one like you normally would when picking a new movie to watch. The plot sounded good when you had read it. Oh well, you gave it a shot.

J wasn't fond of the movie either. He's actually more bored of it than you are. Occasionally would he exhale blatantly or comment on one of the bad moments that came across. This. Is. Torture. He thought to himself staring blankly at the screen. And not the good kind. Alas, he'll bite his tongue and miserably sit through another hour because it is your movie night, and he knows how much this means to you.

You can't help but feel bad for having him sit through this with you- for you. Soon, you lost total interest in the film and your mind began to drift.. elsewhere. To his hand, resting freely between your soft thighs. His palm feels so warm against your flesh. But that's just J- always giving off heat. He's like your own personal heater. Sometimes warming you to the point you don't even need a blanket because it becomes too hot. Speaking of which, you removed the cover, preferring his signature warmth over the fabric's any day.

Your fingers start to brush lightly on his wrists and knuckles. The subtle touch earns you half smile followed with a pleased hum, which you see in your peripheral vision. He hasn't caught on yet, but your need for him is building fast.

You scooch closer to him in attempt to get his hand where you need it most without him catching on just yet. It didn't work, his hand isn't touching you. It's right there, mere millimeters away. Thinking about how amazing his hands feel when he touches you. When he grants you with friction as he rubs your throbbing clit. The wonderful spots he reaches when he relentlessly fucks you with those paint speckled fingers. Curling them deep, making you writhe and cry beneath him.

Clamping his wrist, your breath hitches at the thought. Shit. That was audible. For a split second, you thought you might have blown it. But Joker took it as something from the film frightening you.

"Quiet doll," he shushes, "you an' I both know the ah, movie ain't scary."

Fuck, you can't take it anymore. You want him to touch you. With a slight roll of your hips, you manage to get his hand to brush against your clothed heat. The smallest bit of friction causes you to release a muffled whimper.

J's arm stiffens and his face instantly snaps to look at you. You seize, halting your movement. No question, he felt what you did, sees the burning desperation in your eyes. Tossing his head back, he erupts in a delighted, high pitched cackle. "Oh-" more cackling laughter as he glances at you again, "so that's what that was." A malicious smirk spreads his scarred cheeks. He firmly grips the inside of your thigh, pulling you against him. "What happened bunny? Growin' needy?" Cupping your clothed mound, his fingers rub you teasingly.

"Yeah," you admit, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. Tightening your thighs around his wrist. Would've been no use lying to him when he'd easily seen and felt otherwise.

His rubbing comes to an abrupt stop. He taunts, "Ahh, this was your idea, hm. You were the one keen on a movie night, remember?"

"I know, but-"

"Ah-ta-ta," He cuts you off, "But nothing. This is what ya wanted, so that's what we'll do. We'll ah, sit here and watch."

Suddenly, he lifts you, effortlessly moving you into his lap. You yelp as your back is pressed flush against his torso. He separates your legs apart, you can feel his cock beginning to harden under you, pushing into the plush of your ass. One hand wraps around your chest, to roughly knead your breasts. The other slides under the shirt, gliding over your abdomen, down between your legs. To rub harsh circles on your excited clit through the thinly soaked fabric of your underwear.

"Ahh- fuck!" You whine, throwing your head back to rest on his shoulder, reaching around to grip his green locks.

J starts to kiss and nip his way down your neck. Leaving dark patches into your skin, accompanied by red and white splotches- completely marking you. Once he was satisfied with his marks, he leans closely by your ear. "You're dripping, doll," he whispers huskily, his hot breath brushing against your neck. "Now, you will sit here and watch the flick like a good girl, while I play with this needy little cunt of yours. No fussin' or fightin'. Got it?"

"Mhm, yes sir," you answer. Biting back the urge to smile at the thought of finally getting what you want. Fighting it off because, let's be real here, you know with J, it never comes along that easy. But he always makes it damn well worth it.

"Good, now sit still." He growls lowly onto your neck. With that, he pushed your panties to the side and began his torture. His fingers transitioning from fucking your aching hole to rubbing the drenched digits on your throbbing clit. Whispering twistingly sweet and dirty words into your ear while he slathers your own arousal all over your pussy.

He'd bring you close, on the verge of your orgasm, only to stop his movements entirely. Tearing it away from you before you could fall over that edge into pure ecstasy. You grew more and more frustrated each time he'd do that. Though you haven't fully, but you're rapidly losing your composure. Which already may be broken. Sweat is forming on your hairline, tears are prickling your eyes, your breath is starting to hitch. Starting to want it so bad you're teetering towards retaliating to get what you crave.

Joker's counting on it. He thrives on edging you, demands the control over you. As much as he prefers having you entirely at his mercy, he likes it when you lash back. Finds it rather amusing, makes for something a little bit more interesting. See how far you'll go before you snap so beautifully.

And that's now.

You start to buck your hips against his fingers that are going in and out of your pussy, along with his thumb assaulting your clit. Feeling that powerful knot reforming, you need to orgasm. "Oh f-fuck! Please!" You start pleading, "I-I can't take it anymore. Please J, l-let me cum!"

"You wanna cum?" He hints, removing his chin from your neck.

"Yes, God- yes please!" You cry out, clawing your nails into his thighs. Clamping down to gain better leverage. The wild rolling of your hips gets your ass brushing more against his hardened cock. Your arousal had already soaked through his pants a long time ago.

"Fuck," he hisses through gritted teeth, digging his fingers hard into your hip that's sure to leave an array of dotted bruises. He bucks absently into you, licking a wet, hot trail up your neck. "Mm, dirty girl. So you wanna play that game-ah?"

He moves his fingers faster and harder. Even over the loud volume from the television could the wet squelching sounds deriving from his ministrations be heard. The air filled with the scent of sex- your sex. So desperate and ready to let go and orgasm. It's driving you crazy.

"P-please- Ahh! Can I cum?" You plead. Hoping he'll reward you at least for asking.

"You can cum. Go on, babygirl. Cum on my fingers." He finally grants, fingers continuing to get you to ecstasy.

Well you didn't have to be told twice.

You release with a broken cry, orgasm gushing out onto his digits. Drenching the fabric of his pants beneath you. Your body spasming madly over his own while you ride out your high.

Coming down, J removed his hand from your pussy. His fingers are glistening, coated in your cum. He sticks them into your mouth. "Clean my fingers of the mess you made," he growls the command in your ear. Groaning in approval when you comply. Eagerly licking and sucking his digits clean of your juices. "Come here," he grabs your face, turning your head, making you look at him. "Give me a taste."

He kisses you, shoving his tongue into your mouth to savor the taste of your delectable juices. You kiss him back feverishly. One hand fisting in his hair, the other goes to stroke his cock. Still clothed, still hard. The action causing him to snarl against your lips, "such a greedy little thing. Always ah, wanting more. Ya just can't get enough of me, huh?"

"Never," you huff with a grin, "and telling by this-" you rub him again, "neither could you." His eyes snap to glare into yours viciously. Ohh, he's gonna make you pay for that snarky remark.

With hasty movements, J turns you around so that you're now facing him. Straddling his lap. He tears the shirt that adorned your body open, buttons flying to scatter the couch and floor. Someone's gonna have to sew those back on later, most likely you. He removes the shirt from you, carelessly tossing it aside.

With the large article gone, it granted him with a better view of the mess you made on his custom, pricey slacks. His entire crotch and thigh area is completely drenched in your juices. He gave a sigh which tried to make him sound annoyed or displeased. However, with the straining bulge pushing against you below, you know that was far from the case. His eyes traveled to land on your barley covered pussy, he groaned at the sight. The flimsy fabric of your thong sticking to one of your wonderful, wet lips. Your orgasm, still dribbling out your cunt.

He hooked a finger under the thin strap hugging your hip, pulling far enough only to have it fall and snap against you. Chuckling at your slightly startled reaction. "Bad girl. Misbehaving, talking back, making a mess of my pants? These aren't exactly 'buy at the store' ready. Maybe I should put your dirty mouth to use and have you suck your own juices up, hm?"

"I misbehaved?" You mock a pout, fully knowing what you did. Regardless, asking anyway.

His kneads the plush of your ass roughly. The callousness of his hands making you shiver in his grasp. You may think this position is in your favor, that you could use it to your advantage. But Joker's got you right where he wants you. The stern look in his blackened eyes and the firm hold he's got on you make that known. "You ah- were supposed to make it through the film without so much as a fuss. Remember that?"

"I was?" Your fingers ghost up his chest, "I don't remember that part." Now you're pushing it. He notices the smile threatening to creep your face. One of his hands shoots up to grasp a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back, exposing your marked neck.

"Yes," he acknowledges slowly trailing his lips up your throat, "yes you do. You just chose to be a brat and not listen." His tone is dangerous, and it would've been absolutely frightening had you been anyone else instead of the only person he cares about in his life. Even though he'd never verbally admit that, frustrating as it is for him, he does care. He does. Which is why whenever you feel that tingle dubbed as fear creep up your spine, you still hold assurance. The flesh of his scars brush the underside of your chin, making you moan unabashedly. "Ya know I gotta punish you for that."

J uses his hold on your hair and hip to guide you to lay over his lap, your naked stomach pressed against his wet thighs, and most of all, his erection. He reaches over to the small table beside the couch, plucking an item you assume to be one of his signature knives. The distinct clicking sound indicates you were correct. It's a switchblade.

He drags the razor sharp blade along your spine until it reaches your underwear, almost on the verge of slicing into you. The thrill gets your heart pounding faster in your chest and ears. You love it when he cuts you, and he's aware of that. But this is a punishment, so you won't be getting what you want.. least not yet. Placing it under the strap, he tears the article to shreds, carelessly nicking you a few times in the process. Alright, so the little nicks he can't control. Those just come naturally. Tossing the ruined fabric aside, he palms your ass cheeks, favoring a spot to start spanking. "Count. We'll ah, stop when I decide you've had enough."

His palm came down hard against your ass, sending an electrifying jolt through your entire body causing you to yelp. "One!" You count. The stinging grew worse with each spank. He hit you hard, but it wasn't anything you couldn't bare. Warm tears steamed down your reddened cheeks. It hurt in a wonderful way, your pussy leaking more arousal as it progressed. He continued to spank you until he grew bored of hearing the same cries and whines.

"Last one bunny," he subtly praised, soothing over the bright marks in your flesh that are starting to welt and bruise. With that, his hand came down a final time. This one stinging the worst.

"Fif- fifteen." You manage to rasp, mind overcome with the lust you had building up. At this point you need him inside you. You need his cock buried deep in your aching core and you need him now. "Please f-fuck me J. I need you!" Your body arched into his as you begged.

J snickered, "need me huh? How bad?" His hand went back to your abused ass to shove you forward, so that your pelvis was atop his as he purposely rolled his erection against your painfully heated sex. The friction drawing a long, strained moan from your lips which pleased him. "Tell me bunny. How, how bad do ya need my cock?"

"Bad- oh so fucking bad- I need your cock! P-Please J, please daddy, fuck me!" You practically shout, resorting to the word daddy. A word which you hardly use, but do when need be. And now was a time of great need.

A snarl left his lips as he yanks you off briefly to undo his pants and shove them down. His cock finally free from the uncomfortable confines, he sighs with relief as he takes it into his hand, pumping a few times. The tip, red and angry with his precum beading out. "Get over here now," he growls impatiently.

Wasting no time, you swing your leg over both of his, reclaiming your previous place of straddling him. You grabbed-rather pawed- his shoulders for leverage. His thick head lines up with your dripping entrance, then he pulls you down, driving his length inside with a powerful thrust. Knocking the wind from you as he filled you. Fuck, how he stretched you so good.

After a brief second for you both to adjust- you to his size and him to recompose himself- he instructs you to- "Move."

To which you do. Rapidly bouncing yourself up and down on his cock. Unashamed at the loud moans and whimpers continuously leaving your lips. This was exactly what you needed, and having been denied lots tonight it felt amazing to finally have this. You moved like your life depended on it.

J grunted as he met your thrusts with his languid ones, his hands guiding the movement of your hips. He held back from pounding into you, oh how he's going to pound into you, just not yet. Which means he's definitely in the mood to tease you to an extent, in any and every way that he can. What an asshole.. Your asshole.

Your arms went to wrap around him. To your surprise, he didn't shove them off. Instead, his chin went to rest in the crook of your neck, catching glimpse of the illuminated TV screen. The movie was still on.

"Mhm, you're just a horny little slut, aren't ya?" He sneered. "Can't even get through a movie without having my cock inside of ya."

There was no way you could give him a proper response. So wrapped were you in the exhilarating feeling of him that any words to a sentence you tried to form wouldn't come out. What did manage to slip out was muddled babbling. He snickered at your incoherence.

The female protagonist on the screen started to scream. The shrieking noise caught both your attention, though your actions didn't falter. "This woman's a terrible actor," J criticized the lady, "her scream is so fake, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes- ah," you return finding your voice, "It s-sure is."

He removed one hand from your hip, gliding it up the valley between your breasts to grip your neck. Glaring menacingly into your eyes momentarily before muttering, "I think you could give me a better one." You knew from his low tone that something malicious just popped into his head. His fingers tightened, "Let's see if you could scream louder than the girl on the screen. Can ya do that for me sweets?"

You nodded feverishly within his hold, "yes J."

Satisfied with the answer, he began driving his cock vigorously up into you. The harsh slapping of skin heard as his hips pound mercilessly against your own. The spontaneous change of pace left you almost completely breathless. Your orgasm was fast approaching. Eyes squeezing shut as he fucked you relentlessly. You screamed, "Oh fuck!"

Your beautiful screams rang harmoniously in his ears like a favored tune. That he could play on repeat over and over and never grow tired of hearing. Your screams and moans are definitely his favorite sounds, aside from explosions and gunfire. He can't help but want more. Crave more.

"Come on doll, get louder," he teases, "I know ya could do better than that." He went to tug your head to the side, exposing the junction between your neck and shoulder. Sinking his yellowed teeth in, biting down hard to draw blood. That was just the push you needed. Your eyes roll back and your walls clench tightly around his length, releasing a shattering scream as you cum violently around his cock.

J lapped the fresh blood from where he bit you. "Hm, that's it," he groaned, "now that's a real scream." He kept going, his pace never letting up. In fact, soon as your hands went to tug at his hair did his thrusts speed up.

You yank his head from your neck to look into his intoxicating eyes, moving to glance towards your blood on his lips. Crashing them with yours to taste that savory metallic flavor for yourself. You take his bottom lip between your teeth and bite down harshly, earning a rumbling groan from him.

He's getting closer and closer to his own peak as you're nearing another. When you feel his thumb move to rub rigorous circles on your sensitive clit, you release his lip with a sharp cry. "J!"

Your walls clamping painfully tight around his throbbing dick, vision blurring as you cum. Nails digging into his broad chest, probably creating tiny bruises under the shirt.

He relishes in the pinch of pain you give him. Combined together with your sinful noises, the sight of your face contorted in ecstasy, and the feeling of your tight warm walls. With that, he buries himself in you and cums hard. A moan mixed with a groan like noise slipping from his lips while he shoots his hot load into your cervix. So much, that some leaks out while you milk him of every last drop.

J collects his breath before lifting your weight up to slip out of you. Your pussy lips are so swollen that his cum isn't even able to drip down once he's out. He sets you onto the couch beside him, getting up to go into the restroom to clean himself and grab a damp rag to bring back to you.

As you regain yourself, you manage to sit a little more up on the couch. Wincing, trying not to sit up all the way due to the soreness already starting to form between your legs. You wrap the blanket around your naked form and silently contemplate. The sex was amazing sure, but you still felt bad for ruining movie night with a terrible movie.

The sound of J coming back in hadn't even registered with you until he waved his hand in your view, tearing you from your thoughts. You blink quickly, offering him a smile to hide it. But J had already seen the small frown when he walked back. And he wanted to know the reason behind it, since it was out of the ordinary. Usually you're always smiling in your post orgasmic state.

"What's carving a frown in ya, pumpkin?" He asks, a hint of concern in his tone as he hands you the small towel. The strange nickname causes you to giggle and he eases knowing you're alright.

"It's nothing J," you say shyly, "I'm just.. I'm sorry the movie sucked. I promise I'll pick a better one next time."

He hums, saying nothing else as he sits back down beside you. Draping his arm behind the couch behind you. Blankly watching the last of the movies end credits while you clean yourself with the rag.

You start to laugh again, "Well, now I really wanna carve a pumpkin. This place could use a couple. How about tomorrow I get some for us to carve?"

He grins sinisterly, "ya know, I'm usually carving into people."

"Pumpkins are less messy. Like, way less." You playfully respond.

"I like messy," he huffs.

"Yeah I know you do." You smile knowingly at him, lightly tracing the hexagonal patterns on his shirt. "I thought it would be fun. You don't have to if you don't want to."

J licks his scars as he ponders on it. Any activity having to do with a carving into something with a knife, count him in. "Ah, what the hell. Alright. What better way then to uh, help me spruce up on my slicing skills." He traces his hand out in front of him, as if he were carving a smile into something. This action causes you to release a genuine laugh. And in that moment, J relishes in hearing yet another one of his favorite sounds~

Woah, so that's the end! I hope you guys liked it. Again, sorry that it was so long. I can't help but make these super lengthy when it comes to smut😭

#heath ledger joker #tdk joker #the dark knight joker #ledger joker x reader #ledger joker x y/n #ledger joker x female reader #joker x reader #joker x y/n #ledger!joker #ledger joker #ledger joker smut #joker smut #the dark night #fanfic

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charlieliqueur · 4 years ago

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Mark X Camper!Reader (Unus Annus)

Camp Days - Part Two

Note: Sorry it took so long! :/

---

Your eyes boldly locked onto the tent door. You heard it begin to open, and you frantically hid the journal and any other suspicious material under your pillows and sleeping bags. The door opened to reveal Mark.

"Heeey camper," he greeted politely, entering the tent without stopping to ask if it was okay. Didn't matter, you felt like even if you said no, he'd do it anyways. "Y/n right?" He asked. You nodded. "What are ya doing in here all alone?" He asks, giving you a confused look. "Uh, sitting. I don't like mosquitoes..." you said.

"Well, I don't think anyone likes mosquitoes. I was gonna teach some of the other spunky little campers to play a song or two on guitar. You wanna join me?"

"I, um, already know guitar," you spoke, not sure if he'd believe it or not. Was it a lie? You couldn't remember. You had faint memories of maybe playing an instrument, but they were like remembering a childhood dream. Faint and fuzzy.

"Perfect! You can help me!" He said, eagerly and not quite gracefully getting up off the tent floor.

"No, that's not what I-"

"Come on, what else are you gonna do, we're only in camp for another six days!"

"Six days?"

"Yeah! A week of camp Unus Annus, yesterday was the first say, pfft, obviously. Introductions and all..."

"Six days, you're sure?"

"Uh. Duh."

Thoughts went through your head. It wouldn't be hard to keep track of six days. Hell, you could record every minute if you had to.

"I dunno...."

"I'll get Thicc Water to apologize for pelting you and Gerald."

Your blood ran cold. You looked into Counselor Mark's dark, dark eyes. His smile was warm, but... empty. Like it used to hold some semblance of emotion that had long since left him.

"How did you-"

"Oh, y/n, nothing happens in Camp Unus Annus without me knowing. Now come on!"

He unzipped the tent and waited for you to leave as well. You did so, not wanting any hostility. You were hesitant on leaving the journal and everything behind, but you didn't want Counselor Mark to see them, obviously.

It wasn't quite midday, but it wasn't early morning. Maybe 11:00 am or so. Mark had a group of campers around a pit, a box was on the ground nearby, full of Tazer Fire bandanas, almost every other camper had one. You grabbed one awkwardly and began folding in diagonally. Mark sat down on a log with his guitar and started strumming. The other campers watched him with awe.

Then he looked at you. "Come here y/n," he said, beckoning you over. You awkwardly sat down next to him, you didn't feel comfortable in his presence. He looked to you and grinned passing the guitar. For a moment your vision fogged with images of two men in black and white suits. A swirling abyss. You exhaled and took it. "Play us a tune, eh?" He asked, giving a look around the rest, who watched expectantly. Including Gerald.

You managed to set it in your lap correctly, but before you had a chance to play, either well or awfully, suddenly another voice boomed "HEEEY HEEEY MARK!"

All of the campers and the head counselor looked to see a skinny guy with dark hair and a black camp shirt. Counselor Ethan, and his campers. "Day two of camp already!" He said, wrapping an arm around Mark and smiling, but his eyes settled on you a moment. But Mark began talking to him, before Ethan could get a good look at you. "Oh yeah. What are you doing all the way over here, buddy?"

"Oh, y'know, interested in some team building activities. Tug of war, egg races, three legged race, the good ones!"

"Sounds great! Am I right??"

All the campers cheered, except you...

You felt like you were the only sober person left at a weird party.

Counselors Ethan and Mark began leading their campers away from Camp Tazer Fire, and towards a grassy clearing. A few rocks and sticks littered the area, but other than that it was just grass. "Alright everyone, partner up!" Shouted Mark.

You looked around, confused. "Gerald? Gerald??" You shouted, slightly panicked. You'd just seen him at camp, hadn't you? You looked through the crowds of campers, but his face was nowhere. "No buddy? Y/n you know the rules..." said Mark giving you a strange smile and shaking his pointer finger at you. "I know! I'll be your buddy! Just for the rest of camp," he said, looking proud of himself and his idea.

You looked at Mark for a moment, your heart dropping. "The rest of camp? What about Ethan? Isn't he your-"

"Certain rules can be bent in strange circumstances... now come on! Tug of war!"

- - -

You were tired, nervous, hot and sweaty. You were sitting on a rock as, drinking water from an unmarked bottle, as the sun began to set. Hours and hours of games had been played. Being stuck right next to Mark. You'd constantly catch him staring at you, or standing just too close for comfort. This whole time a light, overly electric feeling had been around you. Not the good kind, the kind of electric that you feel before a scary test, or a vaccine shot, or anything dangerous that doesn't excite, that only makes you anxious.

An excess of energy.

Weird energy.

You looked from the sunset towards the rest of the campers, distracted by the sound of footsteps. Mark had made his way over. He smiled, and waved you close to him saying "Come on, let's go."

You raised an eyebrow, and suddenly Ethan shouts "Back to camp, Campers!! A good rest after a good day! Remember the buddy system!" You stood and cautiously walked over to Mark. But Ethan was approaching. Then he extended a hand. Mark seemed hesitant on letting him.

You shook it. It was cold. Ice cold. Dreadfully icy cold. You pulled your hand away immediately after. "Ethan, and you're y/n?" He made short eye contact with Mark, who tried to manage a quick discreet nod. You looked between them a moment. "What's going-"

"Back to camp, eh? Enjoy your time with us Mo- ER y/n!" Said Ethan, awkwardly rushing away. You stared in shock and confusion as he left. Then Mark slipped an arm around your shoulder and said "Like he said, back to camp." And he gave you a slight shake, as you gazed into the distance, confused and scared.

- - -

"Because I'd like some privacy while changing please," you said shakily, trying to convince Mark to stay out of the tent for even just a few minutes. "Alright, alright," he agreed. You exhaled a sigh of relief, softly. You dug the journal out from under your pillow and turned to whatever you thought was the page you were on. It wasn't, but you decided to read whatever you could anyways.

Mori.... momento mori. Remember Death. They say it all the time. What death? With them, death isn't an ending, it's the beginning. Or the middle. Or the constant state of being. Or a being itself. Almost like they're looking for it. Looking for death...

"Almost ready?" Mark interrupted.

"Just a few moments!" You replied. You threw the book closed and stuffed it under the pillow, and quickly changed into clean camp clothes. Then you said "All done." The zipper rustled and the door opened. "Thanks, worried I might get eaten by a bear, or a deer..."

Mark laid down, seemingly relaxed. You sat on your side of the tent, trying to clear your mind. Trying to think. Everything you've learned so far swimming in your mind.

How old the camp sites are, how Mark and Ethan are seemingly immortal. How campers seem to vanish, how GERALD vanished! And now Ethan calling you Mo... was he gonna say mori? Death? What did that even mean? Was it an accident? You didn't think anything was an accident here. Not when you randomly show up at some spooky summer camp out of nowhere with hardly any memories.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Asks Mark.

"Um, how we lost at tug of war..." you lied.

"Yeah, that sucked... but we killed it at the three legged race, am I right??"

You laughed softly, but you weren't amused. You looked around the tent for a few seconds before laying down. You sighed deeply, but quiet enough not for him to hear. "I think it's time to sleep," you said. "You know, good rest and all..."

"Of course, of course. Goodnight y/n..." said Mark, rolling over. He was still laying down, stiff, outside of his sleeping bag. You curled up in yours, wanting some feeling of safety. "Y'know y/n," started Mark, "you always seem so tense. Try to enjoy camp. It is only a week, and you can make friendships that last... forever..."

Mark sounded sad... distant and somber, like remembering something. You could tell something was off. You didn't reply, you didn't want to.

After what felt like an eternity, with Mark still in the same position after hours of laying down, you remember your eyes closing finally and falling asleep.

And then you awoke.

You weren't sure how much later. You just remember waking up to the door opening. You looked, and saw it open, and saw Mark gone. A cool breeze rustled the open tent flap. You sat up, heart beginning to race. You heard leaves rustling and wind howling. Like before a storm, but without the rain. You climbed onto your feet and cautiously peeked outside, your whole torso outside the tent.

Then you saw them. A man in a white suit, a man in a black one, in the distance at the edge of the forest, chatting it seemed. You ducked back into the tent a moment, looking around more cautiously, barely peeked out.

All the other tents were dark, oddly so. And closed and quiet. Like a silence fell over the camp site. Like they all... were in a dead sleep...

You climbed out of the tent, the site being dark enough for you to sneak around in. You hid behind other tents, and rocks, and anything you could.

You were about to go around another tent, when you caught a glimpse of a white pant leg, and you immediately hid behind the tent again, holding your breath. They were right there, talking.

"We've only got five days," said a voice that sounded like Counselor Ethan. But, different... more serious...

"Yes but we have her this time," said a voice, oddly similar to Counselor Mark.

"These hosts will not last forever."

"They've lasted this long."

"And if we cannot.... if we fail before they leave...."

"We won't, my friend. We will find peace again... I promise."

"Yes, peace... momento mori?"

"Momento mori, unus... annus..."

Then you watched them begin to walk towards your tent. What the fuck? Peace? Hosts?? You saw the man in the black suit approach a different tent, as the white suited one headed back to yours. They also looked like Ethan and Mark, but for some reason you didn't want to believe that to be true... The black suited one opened a tent, and pulled out a sleeping camper, and then laid the kid on the rocky ground. What was he....? He wrapped his hands around the kid's throat, and suddenly you realized what was happening.

"Don't-!" You burst out without realizing it.

He looked up, seeing you there. "Mori... can it be...?"

He stood, and turned to you, and you saw the man in the white suit begin to approach as well.

You panicked, turned, and ran, straight into the dark, windy, silent woods.

- - -

To be continued! Sooooo it took a million years to get part two, I know I know. But its here now, right? Sorry guys. A lot happened, and I know many are still hurting after the channel ended. But, here this is, for who ever is still waiting for it.

#markiplier x reader #markiplier #mark fischbach #ethan nestor #amy nelson #camp unus annus fic #camp unus annus #unus annus #unus #annus #annus x reader

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tttinytrash · 3 years ago

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Ok fine, I caved again. Originally I said I’d at least attempt to not kidnap @shamedump‘s boys again, but their boys are so sweet (and also have to convenient distinction of not actually wanting to hurt their little reader buddy). Dumpling gave me the green light so with their blessing I’m going ahead with Shy’s final prompt for spoopy hide-and-eat with the Bad Sans Gang using Dumpling’s version of the spooky boyos. I hope I channel their personalities adequately, and I hope you guys enjoy!

Movie night with they guys was always a highlight of your week.

You all met as Archer’s castle on a regular basis to just hang out, piling into one room. Thank goodness this was a whole freaking castle, because your gang was pretty big. Despite the size of the room, the couch really wasn’t big enough for your whole group. As per usual Chain, Mage, Dusty, and Mason were crammed on the couch leaving Deca and you to nest on the floor. The plethora of cushions strewn about made that a non issue, luckily. Crash had made himself a hammock out of his own strings overhead, knitting a scarf absently as the movies served as background noise. This week, the reason the seven of you were sprawled over the couch in the first place was the horror movie marathon going on the TV across the room.

You turned away as the blood curdling screams shrieked from the speakers, the delightful sounds of the hot blonde being torn apart by the feral werewolf on screen acting as your backing track as you cried “Oh come on! That’s just gratuitous!” You laughed, entertained by the campiness buried in the gore but still refraining from watching until the wet squelches subsided.

“you ok?” Chain asked, looking you over. (You didn’t miss Mage glancing over at you either.)

“I’m good. Having a good time, but so not looking forward to the nightmares tonight.” you respond, flapping a hand as if to waft away the concern.

“scared of horrible monsters coming to get you in the night?” Mason teased, abandoning his spot on the couch to push at your shoulder and attempt to loom.

Despite the blank sockets and black tears, the goof didn’t scare you so you laughed easily. “Not like that, and you know it. Stoppit.” You started to push him off, which made him double down on the game and try to knock you over into the pillow pile.

Mage broke up the game before it turned into proper rough housing, wrapping one tendril around your waist and another around Mason’s ankle. He yanked you both off the floor, chiding “enough, you two.”

Mason ended up limply hanging upside down, clearly unabashed and jokingly making grabby hands at you.

To prevent further childishness, Mage dumped you into Chain’s lap and dropped Mason into the thickest portion of the pillow pile.

You giggled when Chain wrapped himself around you, setting his chin on the crown of your head and purring about the newfound proximity.

Deca spun around to look at you, “you get nightmares after scary movies?”

“I mean yeah, but it’s a price I’m willing to pay for a good time.” You shrug, as best you can while wrapped up in Chain’s arms.

“Y-y-you know you’re just about the best guarded human-n in the multiverse, right?” Crashed asked, setting hit knitting aside.

“Yeah, I’m well aware that anyone who wanted to get me would have to go through you guys. My brain is just dumb.” You pat the skeleton wrapped around you as best you could, which in your position was patting the thick ecto on his middle since that’s all you could reach.

His belly reacted to the attention by growling, which you could feel while being pressed into it. You could practically feel the mischief coming off Chain as he said “well, i’m plenty willing to make that more literal if you want.” To emphasize, he licked your head.

You pulled away from the intruding tongue, and Chain let you tumble away from him and back onto the floor, laughing as you squealed about him being gross and trying to fix your hair from the huge cowlick Chain had gifted you.

You noticed Dusty quietly saying something to Mason, which was a pleasant surprise as Dusty usually preferred not to speak much if at all. You asked Mason what was up, curious what made the reserved skeleton speak up.

“he’s asking if i think you being taken in would help with the nightmares. so, would it?”

“Uh... dunno. Never tried it before.” You said truthfully.

“why don’t we try it out, then. but make it a game?” Mage asked, grin quirking predatorily.

“Game?” You asked, curious to see where this went.

“yes. you run, we chase. winner gets to keep you for the night.”

“Hah! Am I player or the prize?”

Mage shrugged, “both.”

You glanced around the room and saw several hopeful gazes and a few curious ones. Crash rolled his eyes and went back to his knitting, but you couldn’t deny the puppy dog eyes you were getting from some of the others.

“Alright, game on.”

-----

Crash made a seat for himself and another for Deca high up in the canopy of the woods by the castle, which would serve as your arena for the game. (Thematically appropriate, plus no one could tumble down unforgiving stone stairs.) Crash and Deca tapped out before the game began, neither of them really wanting a guest your size. The others still seemed gung ho, so they were on the forest floor with you.

You waved your flashlight around the area, already scoping out routes, as Mage explained that a victory meant catching you, no shortcuts allowed, and stipulations about magic to keep you from getting hurt during the chase. You kinda tuned it out, instead strategizing. Not like you had to worry about limiting spells you couldn’t cast in the first place.

You got a minute head start, and your heart was pounding as you ran. 60 seconds had gone by in your mental countdown, which meant you were officially being hunted.

You were mildly nervous, but far from afraid. You did try to tamp down on the nervous feeling and instead focus on your excitement about a new game. Hopefully a more positive feeling would be harder for Mage to track.

You weren’t left alone too terribly long, as Dusty had a habit of popping up randomly, forcing you to run away with him snickering behind you. You quickly caught on that he was just there for jumpscares, which made you laugh. You weren’t totally positive where the others were for now, though. That made you more paranoid.

The first time you actually felt the game was afoot was when Mason suddenly appeared on your right and made a grab for you. You dodged the grab, and darted in the opposite direction. Being chased by Mason, you almost missed the dark chuckle in front of you. Luckily you didn’t, as your quick turn saved you from Mage’s tendril’s snapping out towards you. The realization that the tendrils were significantly harder to dodge than Mason had been made you realize Mason wasn’t actually trying to catch you, instead herding you towards Mage.

The realization that Mason was helping Mage rather than himself wasn’t surprising, but definitely amusing. You had to dodge plenty more of Mason’s divebombs, and Mage quickly caught on that you knew what was going on and actually had to chase after you now as well, rather than waiting for Mason to bring you close enough for a grab. You heard Deca laughing from high above when Mason lunged at you but missed, ending in a face plant. Good to know the two non participants were still entertained. Given this opening, you took off yet again only to be stopped by Dusty springing from a shrub.

It was no effort to get away from him, as per usual. But how did he keep finding you so easily?!

Oh, Delta. It was the freaking flashlight! You realized the bright light was all but a beacon in the dark woods. Mason had given it to you, hadn’t he? Ooh, that cheeky little-!

Fine, you could use their trick against them. You jammed the light in the crook of a tree and took of running, leaving the bulb alight. The laughter from both Mason and Mage meant they’d found your trick, but you were far from your boobytrap and felt a sense of victory.

Your skeleton sightings became fewer now, and your night vision had finally adjusted to the dim light of the moon. But it also heightened the nerves instinctual for humans in the dark. You actually screamed the next time Dusty caught you by surprise, and while you backpedalled you didn’t miss the surprised look on Dusty’s face before you felt two solid somethings wrap around from behind you and lock you in place.

You wriggled with all your might out of a pure fear reaction but stilled when you realized two things. 1) The things holding you were big, thick arms. 2) The plushness of the body you were being held to meant it was Chain.

You looked up, breathy laughter tinging your words as you said “I only saw you once this whole game, but wow did you make it count!”

Deca shortcutted to the ground beside you, while Dusty and Chain chuckled at your outburst.

“figured ambush was the way to go. picked a spot and waited for the right moment, and dusty gave me the perfect window.” Chain explained.

“did you even know he was there, dusty?” Deca asked.

He shook his head, smiling wide.

Crash seems to have been the one who called Mason and Mage that the game was over, as all three approached in a group.

“well played, chain. and you did pretty well too, human.” Mage said as he approached.

Once the trio joined, the group was left in a loose ring and you still being held by the large skeleton who’d caught you. Conversation was immediate and comfortable, reliving some of the more lively moments and near misses with glee and laughing over mistakes made. After a bit, the chatter was cut by a rolling growl from Chain’s stomach which served as a reminder as to what victory entailed.

“well, the wager was already set. we’ll go set up the sleeping arrangements and meet you back at the castle. see you later, human.” Mage said, leading the others away and leaving just you and Chain out in the cool night air.

“you ready to get in your sleeping bag?” Chain asked, adjusting his grip on you at last to a more bridal style.

“Hah, yeah. Sounds pretty comfy to me.”

Chain smiled before gently fitting your head into his mouth while you went limp to make the next few moments easier on your host. Chain started swallowing with an easy, steady rhythm and you felt yourself relax in response. This was far from your first time being taken in by one of your skeletal companions so you knew the drill. It was with a happy sigh from Chain that you finished your downward journey and slid into the more open space of his stomach. The magic around you was mildly cool but comfortable, and the softness let you sink in a bit and feel cradled and safe.

Chain’s hand pressed in from outside to steady his newly added weight and you felt the light sway as he began to walk back into the castle. You began to rub at the surrounding walls in a successful attempt to get the monster to purr, and he even started rubbing back at you with your free hand.

He did you the favor of turning his magic transparent for you once you were back in the castle. He knew you preferred being able to see people if conversations were happening, and knowing how these nights went sleep wasn’t on the itinerary just yet despite the bedding being set up and pajamas being on.

Once you host had settled where he’d be sleeping, conversations flowed and jokes were made amongst the group with little difference from before despite your seating arrangements. Eventually, Mason approached and started to lightly pester you through the barrier of magic between you two. Chain seemed more entertained by the banter than bothered, but you hadn’t missed the black puddle that formed on the floor behind Mason.

A tendril emerged, wrapped around Mason’s ribs, and dragged him in. The satisfied look on Mage’s face would have clued anyone in the group in to where the troublemaker had ended up even without seeing him be puddled. Any nonexistent doubts also would have been dashed by Mage’s hand remaining on his belly the rest of the evening.

After a while, sleep was imminent and everyone settled comfortably strewn about Mage’s room. Mage and his internal guest were of course veiled on Mage’s four poster bed while everyone else was on various cots and cushions. Even without the luxury of a king sized mattress you felt exceedingly comfortable.

“doin ok in there?” Chain asked quietly.

“Oh, peachy on my end. How ‘bout you?” You kneaded at the wall the way you knew he liked.

He purred at your attentions, rubbing back as best he could from outside. “just wondering if this nightmare cure will do you any good, but i’m feeling pretty peachy too.”

“I will say, pretty hard to feel vulnerable in here. I’ll let you know come morning.”

“good. night, y/n.”

“Goodnight, big guy.”

You both settled in, and it felt like Chain falling asleep took mere seconds. You smiled fondly at the soft sounds of his slowed breathing and his body working around you.

As you drifted off, you couldn’t help but wonder if the chasing game would be played again at some point.

...

Maybe next week you could watch the sequel to tonight’s movie.

#extreme cuddling #safe vore #soft vore #undertail vore

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justagirlinafandomworld · 4 years ago

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Season of the Witch V

Story Masterlist

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Witch!Reader

Chapter Summary: You’ve helped the Avengers secure an artifact that will point them to a suspect’s location. But nobody wants to touch it.

Chapter Warnings: general spookiness, language, mention of violence, blood

Written for @thefanficfaerie‘s Spooktacular OTP Challenge.

Day 5 – Scary Book

Word Count: 700

Divider provided by @firefly-graphics

Wind blew through the quiet neighborhood, the moonlight obscured by whisps of moving clouds. You descended the steps of a dark house, clutching your bag close to your side.

The hood of your jacket obscured your face from the headlights of a car lazily rounding its way to a garage down the street.

Sam was at your side, a hand on the middle of your back. You tensed under his hand, turning to catch his gaze in the dark.

“They won’t follow.” He said, before sending out a text for extraction. Noticing the slash of dark red on the curve of his cheek and around his knuckles, you turned back to the silent house. There had been five demons, you had only taken down one before stepping out the door.

Sam Wilson was not a man to trifle with.

“They won’t know your face either,” You added, lifting your hand and revoking the glamour.

He stumbled back, a feeling of disorientation washing over him. You grabbed his arm to keep him upright.

A van flashed its lights down the street and you pulled each other down the sidewalk to it.

“It’s not going to hurt you,” You informed when the Avengers showed reluctance to touch the book you had retrieved for them.

"It's called The Book of the Damned." Natasha said, her head tilted towards you as if you were a child.

You locked eyes with her and matched her head tilt. You had recognized early on the importance of her role within Steve's team and knew the attitude thrown your way was purely her protecting her family. It was unnecessary, but admirable.

"Yes, but it is not the book. The real Book of the Damned is in the possession of a family in Europe. You should be wary of that one, lots of ancient curses and blood rituals, you do not want to mess with it. Think of this book as more a… little black book."

Sam made a noise, somewhere between a snort and a scoff.

"Right. But instead of collecting phone numbers, this guy is collecting souls."

"Hence, the catchy name."

Still, no one moved to touch the book on the table. You turned to Steve expectantly. His eyes flashed to you and he shrugged at your voiceless request.

“Could you…” He gesticulated his hand. “Do something to make sure we don’t end up cursed?”

Your mouth fell open and you turned back to the book. You supposed you could not fault them for their reservations. Instead of wasting your power though, you took the book into your own hands, ignoring the surprised sounds of the three, and flipped through the pages.

A power surged through you as soon as the page landed on the name you were searching for. Your blouse fluttered at the collar and goosebumps raised along your arms. You slammed the book shut and dropped it back onto the table.

You pressed a fist to your mouth and the other to your hip.

Steve called to you, but his voice was far away. Faintly, you were aware that both Sam and Natasha were on their feet and eyeing you warily.

Steve pulled on your arm, turning you to face him.

“What happened, what did you see?”

When you didn’t answer, he asked Nat and Sam to give you two a minute. Once the door closed, he pulled you close so that your hands were caught between his chest and your own.

His knuckles caressed your cheek and you finally came back to yourself, eyes snapping up to his.

“I-I saw…everything he has done for the demon. Everything. Steve,” Your voice caught and you blinked back tears. Your gift had never been sight. You did not predict things or have visions. “It was like I was there, I saw, I felt…”

Every cry for life, every slice of pain. Helplessness on your tongue and anguish in your heart.

“We have to catch this sonofabitch. Steve, please.” Your hands fisted against his chest.

“We will.” He said, kissing your forehead and pressing your head to rest against his chest. His arms wrapped securely around you, a strong, warm cocoon against the rest of the world.

to be continued...

← part IV part VI →

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x witch!reader #spooktacular otp challenge #otp challenge

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ericsonclan · 4 years ago

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Until Dawn

Summary: Clementine invites her friends over for a sleepover and they decide to play a game: Until Dawn.

Read on A03:

Everything was set up and ready to go. The title screen for Until Dawn was displayed on the TV screen. A face moved on the screen as it waited for the game to begin. Clementine looked around the room. Popcorn and bowls of candy were on the living room table as well as an assortment of drinks. She glanced down at her watch.

Everyone should be here soon.

Just as she finished the thought, a knock was heard on the door. Running over to the door, she opened it to find Brody and Ruby standing out front.

“Hey guys, come in.” Clementine stepped away to make room for her friends to enter.

“Thanks,” Brody said as she and Ruby entered first, followed closely behind by Violet and Prisha while Sophie, Minnie and Renata brought up the rear.

“You guys ready for jumpscares and gore galore?” Renata asked excitedly, jumping down on the couch to join Minnie who had already taken her spot.

“I hope it’s not too gory,” Brody sighed, taking a spot beside Renata.

“Well I’m sure it will be fine,” Sophie gave a reassuring smile as she sat on the couch arm beside her twin. “We’ll all be taking turns so together we can survive the night.”

“Soph’s right,” Ruby took one of the available chairs while Prisha took the last spot on the couch. “It’ll be fun,”

“How long is the game anyway? Violet sat down on the remaining couch arm by Prisha.

“Usually it’s ten to twelve hours,” Renata stated, grabbing a handful of popcorn before shoving it in her mouth.

“So we’ll be playing Until Dawn… until dawn.” Clementine said with an enthusiastic smile. Grabbing the controller, she took a seat by Sophie and selected the new game option. The game opened up with a still image of a butterfly warning the girls that their choices would affect the story and they should choose wisely.

“Who wants to go first?” Clementine held up the controller.

“Oh, I do!” Sophie shot her arm up quickly, snatching the controller as the opening shot of the cabin was shown. It became abundantly clear to the girls what type of characters they would be playing as when the prologue started.

“So we’re just following some idiotic teenagers?” Violet asked, leaning back with her arms crossed.

“Yeah, that seems about right.” Renata replied, grabbing a bowl of candy before leaning against Minnie’s shoulder.

“We’re playing as a twin,” Minnie seemed more invested now, leaning forward in her seat as she watched.

“Oh no, don’t fall for it,” Brody whispered as she saw Hannah go along with what Mike wanted, falling further into the teenagers’ prank. Soon it became clear to Hannah that she had been pranked, causing her to run out into the cold winter night alone.

“That was brutal,” Clementine whispered, taking a sip from her drink.

“Don’t worry, Sophie and Minnie, we would never pull a prank like that on either of you.” Ruby declared firmly.

Sophie and Minnie shared a confused look before looking back at their friend.

“Thanks, Ruby,” Sophie gave a small smile as her attention turned back to the screen.

“It was just a prank, Han!” Renata mimicked Emily’s voice, making the others look over both impressed and confused by it.

“Well, it’s time to save my twin!” Sophie declared as she controlled Beth who slowly made her way through the dark forest. Brody hugged a pillow closer to her, jumping slightly as the deer jumped out. Soon Sophie came across a totem and picked it up, revealing some sort of vision.

“I feel like this is cultural appropriation,” Prisha looked annoyed by the game’s choice of item.

“What it is is scary,” Renata said in her best spooky voice. After a few minutes Sophie was able to find Hannah, but they weren’t alone. A stranger appeared behind them, causing them to slip and fall. The first major decision popped up. Beth could either let go of Hannah or choose to drop both of them. Sophie and Minnie locked eyes and nodded in unison.

“We’re going out together!” Sophie yelled as she moved the analog stick over the choice, causing the twins to fall to their deaths. As the opening song played, Sophie passed along the controller to Prisha. She began her turn by getting all the characters intros to which everyone had different responses. After a while she was in control of Sam who looked at a phone sticking out of the bag.

“I don’t think you should be snooping,” Ruby said in a soft voice.

“Yeah, it’s not nice.” Brody agreed.

“Snoop! Snoop! Snoop! Snoop!” Renata chanted to which Sophie immediately joined in, the two smiling at each other as they chanted. Prisha moved the character forward and snatched up the phone, her curiosity getting the better of her. Soon Chris appeared behind her, causing Ruby and Brody to jump. Some more establishing scenes played out and Prisha decided to pass the controller on to someone else. As she continued to watch the game her hand wandered over to Violet’s, taking it in her own. Her thumb gently brushed against Violet’s, causing a warm feeling to shoot through Violet’s body. She glanced up at Prisha with a small smile.

A fight broke out between Emily and Jessica over what all the girls had agreed was a semi petty reason.

“They’re splitting up,” Minnie’s eyebrow raised, confused by their choice.

“They really are idiots. They're all gonna die.” Violet replied from her side of the couch.

“It’s horror movie 101: don’t split up,” Clementine added, moving Mike forward as the couple bantered. The sound of the doorbell ringing in real life caused Clem to pause the game. Jumping up from her seat, she made her way over to the door where the pizza man waited.

“Thanks,” Her voice was muffled as she held the boxes of pizza and closed the door with her foot. Ruby immediately made her way over and offered her help, placing down the pizzas as

Clementine disappeared into the kitchen to get some paper plates. Soon they returned to the game. Mike and Jessica were in the safety of the cabin after running away from an unknown threat in the woods. Brody let out a sigh, glad that they were safe. Her eyes widened when she realized it was her turn to play. Reluctantly she took the controller and began to get the cabin warm for Jessica when suddenly she got a call from Mitch.

“Hey, Prisha, can you grab my phone and hold it up to my ear?” Brody asked as she navigated Mike around the room.

“Sure,” Prisha answered the call and held it up to Brodys’ ear.

“Hey, Mitch,” Brody answered, a small smile appearing on her face when she heard her boyfriend’s voice. “Everything’s fine, just playing the game. Yeah I’m fine. I’m just-” Brody let out a small shriek when Jessica got pulled through the door, causing the other girls who weren’t frightened by the scare to also react. “No, Mitch, it was just a jumpscare. Yeah, I’m okay. Oh shit, Mike, triangle! It's triangle!” Brody desperately mashed the button as Mike struggled to get to Jessica. “I have to go.” Brody used her nose to stop the call, turning her full attention back on the screen.

“Ummm, ummm which way?” She looked frantically at the options.

“Just fucking jump it!” Violet leaned forward, her eyes glued to the screen.

“Square!” Clementine yelled, pointing to the screen as Mike moved forward.

“Thanks,” Brody replied, mashing the buttons that appeared on the screen. It wasn’t over as Mike made his way down to the mines. Mike looked around desperately for his girlfriend who was nowhere to be seen.

“Did we get her killed?” Ruby asked with a concerned expression on her face.

“No, she’s there!” Sophie pointed at the TV as Mike made his way over. After an unclear shot of whether Jessica was alive or not, Brody shakily handed the controller to Renata whose eyes lit up as she grasped it. Brody’s attention fell back on her phone as she sent a quick text to let Mitch know that she really was okay.

“Watch the expert!” Renata gave a confident smile as she made her way outside of the elevator shaft to climb it. Immediately she missed the first button prompt, causing Mike to fall down in an overly dramatic way. Sophie let out a snort.

“That was just a warm up,” Renata’s tongue stuck out slightly as she concentrated on the buttons only to fail again and again. Sophie slowly devolved into a fit of giggles as her friend continued to miss the prompts. The others weren’t too much help as they smiled and laughed as well.

“You’ve got this,” Minnie gave a reassuring smile, causing Renata to get a newly found drive. Eventually Renata passed the climbing challenge, but it seemed that the game knew she had taken too long, forcing her to take a darker path. Renata swiped her finger across the controller, hoping that the lighter would turn on. After a few tries it lit up. A pair of eyes appeared, hiding behind the planks of wood. Everyone seemed to get caught in this jumpscare except for Sophie who had sneezed right when it happened. She seemed pretty bummed at this fact but moved on as Minnie got the controller.

Minnie was back with the majority of the characters and ended up playing as Chris as he made his way to what was surely his worst nightmare. There tied up was Josh, Chris’ best friend, and Ashley his crush.

“This is cruel,” Ruby’s tone was a mixture of sad and fearful as she heard the killer’s voice telling Chris he had to choose. The others weren’t sure how Minnie was going to decide this one. But it ended up being pretty easy for her. She moved the saw towards Josh.

“That was fast,” Clementine looked back over her shoulder at Minnie who shrugged. “He creeped me out.”

“That’s fair,” Violet agreed as she took another slice of pizza. Soon they were back in the shoes of Mike and it was Violet’s turn to play. She guided the character through what looked like an abandoned asylum until she opened a door and a wolf jumped out and started barking at her. The option to hit it was brought up, but instead Violet waited for the time to run out. She ended up finding a treat for the wolf and befriending it. A silent agreement was made amongst the players: the wolf had to survive the night. Violet soon approached a box with a fake hand swaying back and forth, a note attached to it. Without a second thought Violet reached for the tag, causing Mike’s hand to get caught in a bear trap.

“Shit!” Violet was not expecting this. The camera changed to another’s viewpoint, approaching the room that Mike was in. The option to try the bear trap or to cut off his fingers appeared.

“Cut off his fingers,” Minnie suggested to which Sophie immediately agreed.

“No, try the trap!” Brody begged, hoping not to see one of the characters she had become most attached to get hurt.

“That may not work though,” Prisha tried to think both options through but time was running out.

“Fuck it,” Violet pushed the analog stick towards one of the options. Mike let out a painful cry as he held his now maimed hand. Brody hid her face behind the pillow as Ruby stated facts about how he should treat it so it didn’t get worse.

Clementine was next for the controller, playing a character they hadn’t seen in a while: Sam. She was busy still chilling in her bath when the killer stood behind her.

“That’s so creepy,” Brody winced at the screen.

“It’s fucking digusting,” Minnie added in agreement. The others tried to warn Sam to look around but to no avail. Instead Sam was forced to watch a brutal tape of Josh getting killed. Suddenly the killer burst through the door, walking towards her.

“Throw the vase!” Sophie yelled, jumping her seat. Clementine did just that before running down the hallway. The option to hide or to run appeared, causing the girls to split on the option. Clementine chose to keep running, avoiding each time to hide until she reached the final room in which she chose to hide. The don’t move warning appeared as Clementine froze, barely breathing while she hoped she wouldn’t get Sam caught. When she had succeeded everyone let out sighs of relief.

The controller got passed around before it landed in Prisha’s hands again. This time they were in control of Emily who tried her best to call for help and was successful but they wouldn’t arrive until dawn.

“Roll credits!” Sophie and Renata said at the same time. A hand appeared, creepily moving across the screen as it sliced the cable causing the tower to fall. Soon Emily was in quite the predicament as she held on desperately for her life. Prisha was now in control of Matt as he decided between jumping to safety or helping his girlfriend.

“You should help her,” Brody looked over at Prisha. “She’s your girlfriend.”

“It would be pretty shitty to leave your girlfriend,” Clementine added, looking back at the group.

“But she’s a pretty shitty girlfriend,” Violet grumbled from her spot.

“Doesn’t mean she deserves to die,” Ruby’s counterpoint caused Prisha to pause. Moving the analog stick, she tried once to help Emily who continued to whine and diss Matt as he tried to help her.

“Forget you,” Prisha shot the analog stick over to jump to safety, an annoyed expression on her face which turned slightly happier as Emily fell.

Brody felt her heartbeat race as she held the controller. She played through a few scenes before arriving at one she dreaded. Chris and Ashley had been tied to chairs and a gun was placed on the table. The killer’s voice told Chris he had two choices: to kill Ashley or himself. Brody frantically moved the gun back and forth unsure what to do.

“You gotta pick, Brody,” Sophie stated as she opened up another drink.

“I-I can’t!” Brody’s voice wavered as she continued to move the gun back and forth when suddenly the time ran out. When she realized she had chosen an option that meant neither had to die, she fell back further into her spot in relief. Suddenly a big reveal happened, showing that Josh was the killer and was just pulling a big prank on the friends as payment for what happened a year ago.

“See, I told you he was creepy!’ Minnie gestured to the screen.

“Yep, you were right!” Renata smiled up at her girlfriend.

Everyone seemed to be done with Josh after that point. Although they all seemed somewhat sympathetic to him that only went so far. They were soon back with Emily who seemed just as whiny as ever. Suddenly a creature appeared to chase her.

“What is that!” Brody hid further behind her pillow.

“Whatever it is, you better move your ass!” Violet commanded Emily as she moved her forward. Soon a don’t move prompt appeared, causing Violet to turn into stone.

“Hey, Brody, hot or not?” Renata nudged Brody’s arm with a playful smile. Brody wasn’t even paying attention, her eyes averted from the screen and her ears plugged.

“That’s a wendigo, Renata,” Prisha stated, looking over at Renata who didn’t seem fazed by the statement.

“So?”

“Shut up, Renata!’ Violet hissed, whispering through her teeth. After a moment Violet had passed the prompt and moved forward towards her escape.

“All I’m saying is I would get with a wendigo if it was a matter of life and death,”

Minnie looked over at her girlfriend. “You’d be dead though,”

Renata gave a shrug. “Sophie knows what I’m talking about,”

“No, I really don’t,” Sophie shook her head though she smiled towards her friend. When Violet had safely gotten Emily out of trouble everyone cheered, proud of her achievement. Soon more information was revealed back at the cabin and Chris had to go off with the stranger to get Josh back into the cabin only for the stranger’s head to get taken clean off by a wendigo. Ruby was on the controls now and bravely ran forward to make it back to the cabin.

“Not today, you creepy weirdos!” Ruby yelled as she aimed for a wendigo, shooting it all the way back.

“Way to go, Ruby!” Sophie cheered before stopping when Ruby missed the next one, causing Chris to die. Ruby’s eyes fell, upset that she was the only one so far to get a character killed.

“It’s okay, Ruby,” Clementine looked over at her with a sympathetic smile.

Ruby returned the smile and decided to extend her turn. The scene changed when the group argued whether Emily would turn because she was bitten.

“Don’t shoot her,” Prisha warned, leaning forward. “The stranger told us that it wasn’t transferred through bites.”

“Prisha’s smart. Let’s listen to her,” Renata nodded in agreement. Everyone seemed to agree automatically; Prisha was rarely wrong. Emily didn’t seem appreciative of the decision though, slapping Ashley afterwards. The girls took a quick break to stretch their legs and take a bathroom break. Everyone seemed eager to continue the game as they talked excitedly amongst themselves about the progress so far. Minnie had offered to take the controller next, playing as Mike as he made his way through the abandoned asylum once more.

“Wolfy!” Minnie exclaimed excitedly as the wolf rejoined her. “I’m gonna keep you safe, don’t worry.” Minnie continued to go through the building until she ran into more wendigos which she was able to fend off thanks to her quick reflexes.

“That was so badass!” Sophie’s eyes shone proudly at her sister while she made her way to safety. When she entered a room she quickly jumped down the hole, hoping that the wolf would join her but instead it got taken out by a wendigo.

“No!” Minnie cried out, her hands dropping the controller. Renata moved closer to Minnie, giving her a warm hug.

“Dammit,” Violet’s eyes fell. Prisha’s hand wrapped around Violet’s to which Violet gave a small smile. Everyone seemed upset by the death but decided to soldier on. They still needed to save the others.

Brody bravely took the controls once again this time as Sam. Walking through the cold water of the cave she moved the character to the glowing spot that signaled that an item was there. Leaning over to pick it up the girls soon realized what it was: Hannah’s diary. Since Clementine was closest to the TV she volunteered to read it. Narrating out the diary entries, a horrible truth came to light.

“What? Hannah ate Beth!?!” Sophie nearly fell out of her seat at the revelation. She looked over at Minnie, her eyes slightly teary due to a mixture of the news and the fact that it was nearing four in the morning. “Minnie, I would never!”

Minnie reached out and took Sophie’s hand, giving a reassuring smile. “I know Soph.”

“Wait, you know what this means don’t you?” Prisha’s voice drew everyone’s attention towards her. “This means that Hannah committed cannibalism which means she’s a wendigo, likely one of the ones we faced.”

Everyone’s eyes widened at the realization.

“Holy shit,” Minnie whispered shocked by Prisha’s words. The twins shared a look with each other before letting the others know it was okay to continue on.

Soon they were at the end of the game and Sophie was in charge. She felt her heart tighten at the responsibility on her shoulders. She was in charge of Sam as she tried to let the others escape, refusing to leave until everyone was out but each time she had to deal with a wendigo. Suddenly a wendigo jumped and collided with another, tearing off its head.

“Buff!” Renata yelled in time with the wendigo’s attack. Soon a Don’t Move prompt showed up, causing Sophie to become still.

The wendigo moved towards Sam’s face and screamed into her face.

“Me when I make Sophie do a breath check,” Renata joked with a playful smile. Sophie tried not to laugh at the joke.

“Ren, Sophie’s trying to concentrate,” Minnie looked over at Renata.

“Right, right, sorry.”

Sophie took a shaky breath. “I can’t do another wendigo attack.”

“Oh, here,” Renata snatched the controller and placed it on the table. “This way we won’t lose.”

“Cheater,” Violet grumbled with her arms crossed.

Everyone didn’t seem to care though as they just wanted to get everyone to safety. As soon as the last don’t move section was done, Renata tossed the controller to Clementine.

“Bring home the win!” Renata yelled as Clementine caught the controller, moving Sam towards the light switch.

"Hit the switch! Hit the switch!” they all yelled in unison.

Everyone was cheering when she was successful and the wendigos were toast. As they watched the end credits roll everyone felt the tiredness in their bones.

The light shining through the curtains showed that they really had played until dawn. They all got caught up in their discussion of the game before sleep overtook each one of them.

#twdg #twdg clementine #twdg violet #twdg ruby #twdg brody #twdg sophie #twdg minnie #twdg renata #twdg prisha #twdg minata #twdg privet #twdg moody #twdg bitch #fanfic #ericson's diner au

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crqstalite · 5 years ago

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SHADOW OF THE SITH, CH. 3

TRI'AMA_RISHI.

"If I hear one more person refer to me as a Howling Tempest gang leader, I will not hesitate to stab them through." Tri'ama deadpans, just loud enough so that anyone nearby could hear. Pierce stifles a chuckle as some of the pirates look away quickly from her gold tinged glare. The blonde sith was already tired of the pirate infested planet, and being considered one was infuriating. Being feared wasn't horrible, but if she was going to be feared, she was going to be feared for her status as a Sith lord, not some wayward gang leader.

Rishi was...interesting. Whatever vision she'd got to send her here was about to be shoved to the very back corners of her mind and she'd just wait to see what occurred because of it. After two years of being driven up the walls by the incompetent dark council (moreso by Darth Nox, but she digressed), she was ready to give up and hunt down the blonde Sith to get on with this Revanite business. She'd surprisingly had more fun then than wallowing in memories, alcohol and dealing with less than intelligent political leaders. The smell of salty water was settling into her bones and the near constant chatter of squatters and criminals alike nearly made her force choke one of those damned monkey lizards if their owners weren't holding onto them.

Damn those infuriating laughs of the tiny bastards.

The new armor helped with the heat of the planet itself though. The heavy armor that she typically donned on adventures proved to be too much within even an hour of being on planet, and she'd immediatly switched it out for a hooded half shirt, sleeveless, with a thinner pair of armored pants and clunky but breathable boots. Anyone one this planet with half a brain would steer clear of her anyways, so her midriff would be fine.

Had it been three years ago, she was sure she probably would've gotten at least a wolf whistle from Pierce, but the man had been surprisingly silent on her new look. Protective, even. Her haircut would have to wait until much later, as the blonde strands were beginning to inch down the nape of her neck and stick there. Tied back with a silk band, she'd had to lower her hood once she'd found some inch of shade and remove her respirator just to relieve herself of the pent up heat in her body. Zykken's information to find whoever did have said information on her was going to take a lot more than just her willpower to get done. She'd sent it to Vette to look it over, then extending it to Pierce, but the three of them couldn't make heads or tails of the intel. Her mind kept wandering to the person who was supposed to be good at these things, good with the insane amount of aurebesh that needed to be decoded, and it was hard to keep those thoughts at bay. The datapad, well, that was another story entirely.

And the Red Hulls. Some cannibalistic gang that apparently had also recently arrived on Rishi. Only days prior before she had landed, something about them had flared up and they were the literal talk of the small town. Some were beginning to gossip that the two new gangs would eventually fight each other, and at this point, she wouldn't exactly stand down if it meant they'd accept she wasn't a gang leader. Hell, those in the cantina when she killed Gorro still didn't believe her, even after she'd killed him by throwing him against and a wall and then progressing to snap his neck with just a twist of her fingers. People here were either stupid, or blind. Or both, if she was being honest. Gutter trash didn't always have brain cells rattling around in those skulls of theirs.

Guzzling down another unidentifiable drink (assured at force choking range that it wouldn't kill her and-please let me down-replenshing electrolytes and hydrating-yes please let me down ), she swiped at her forehead to keep the sweat from dripping into her eyes again. Looking over, she jabbed an elbow at her companion, "Aren't you dying in that pack of armor, Pierce?"

He didn't immediatly answer (a bad sign, Vette had been rather unresponsive while they were on Tatooine and though she'd reassured her, the blue twi'lek had passed out a half an hour later. The same with...him), and she forced a bottle of the blue liquid into his hands, "I'll be fine, m'lord." He finally responded after chugging down the contents and looking visibly relieved. Most would assume she was ruthless and vile with everyone, but even the literal hulk of muscle had carved out a place in her heart. She'd rather not have him collapse on her because of heat exhaustion.

"We can always head back to the Fury. It's been a long day, and there's no reason to force ourselves to stay out here when there's nothing to be found." She admits, the sun beginning to set over the shanty town as she disposes of the bottle and stands from her perch on the barrel. "Whatever's out here can be hunted down tomorrow if it truly is that much of an issue."

He chuckles darkly, "You were the one who forced us out here. Sure it'll cool down once the bloody sun is out of the way," he pauses, most likely because she's reclipped her respirator on and raises an eyebrow, "that's if you want to, m'lord."

She rolls her eyes at the formality. At one point, she saw it as a sign of power, having people respect her and be so absolutely fearful they always added her title, but there wasn't really a need for someone like Pierce to continue grovelling at her feet in such a manner. Well, maybe not grovelling (he pressed her buttons as often as Vette did, but those two were the only in the galaxy allowed to do so), but something closer to begrudging respect that she didn't enjoy. It was just, too close to the things he used to say. "If that's how you want to do it, then we'll stay out tonight, Ash."

The corners of his mouth quirk up into a bit of smile, one of the few times she's ever referred to him by even an inkling of his first name. They continue walking along for a bit, one hand always on one of her sabers before she can hear a crier droid clanking around the boardwalk. Stopping Pierce abruptly, she can just barely make out the droid's buzzing speech, "The Red Hulls have issued a challenge to the Howling Tempest gang! In an alleyway tonight, you may even find the two duking it out over Raider's Cove! Who will come out on top and really rule the Cove?"

"You were challenged?" He asks and she gives him a half shrug before turning to him, clearly even unsure of what he was talking about, and then her eyes were looking skywards at a building before smirking at the lieutenant. He sighs, "Leg up, eh?"

He does so, crouching down so she can climb over him to find a handhold to climb up the building, much like the small beats that stole every shiny thing they came across. Among the dizzying array of streets they could get lost in, it'd be easier just to scout the streets and find a general area of where the thing was clankering around. It was harder than expected, but easier than it had been once on Dromound Kaas when she'd attempted to scale a building to find a newly-appointed lord who thought it smart to disrespect Vette. Holding a hand over her eyes, she dangled precariously off the building with one hand and scouted the cove. While none stood out immediatly to her, something glinted harshly against the sun, and she had found her target. "Three klicks north, we can catch up if we hurry."

"Three? How can you hear that bloody thing then?" Pierce questions gruffly, just barely catching her as she slides down the building, air knocked out of him. "Sure there isn't one closer trying to blast our ears off?"

"There are so many alleys in this damn town, I'd rather go get the one I saw and pray it's still there." She says, nodding towards her sleek silver speeder bike. He climbs on first, and then her behind him as he revvs the engine.

He chuckles, throwing a look over his shoulder as she hooked one leg over the seat, "You gonna hold on this time?"

"If I must." She says, rolling her eyes. She wonders if he can tell how comfortable she's gotten around the soldier, willing to put her arms around his waist and lean into him. This, this isn't love. She knows that, though the struggling had only gotten worse after he had left. He was willing to let her sleep with him, but never pushed her any further than necessary. Let her cry, let her even take advantage of him at one point in some drunken fit she's forced out of her mind. She wasn't quick to say it didn't mean anything, it did, it meant she trusted him enough not to throw him out the air lock, but did admit she didn't have feelings for him. A small part of his mind had always been closed off to her, but at that moment she couldn't sense any repressed part of him. No regret, no sadness. Just...raw relief. Relieved because this meant she was regaining sense and was becoming herself again.

Not defined by someone.

Not defined by a hyphenated last name.

Just, her.

It left them much closer than they once had been, and less likely for him to get thrown through a bulkhead at every scathing remark he made. And every Watcher like position she made him take in retaliation. If the man hated one thing, it was being stuck on the ship and watching the action from above. To imagine the things that would've transpired if she'd given her heart to the lieutenant instead of the captain, how things probably still would've ended badly, just much more violent.

A thought for another night.

NAJI_RISHI.

"I didn't ever challenge anyone to gang war..." Naji mused, pulling her robes tighter around herself, as if that would help hide her in shadows of the dark town more than the force stealth would. Nadia shifted at her side, growing bored with the hiding technique. "If I didn't, who did?"

"I'm not sure, master. I don't think there's a signal force signature out here that would give them away either." Nadia remarks. It's a tad spooky speaking to a literal shadow, considering she couldn't even see her, or see her facial expressions. The darkness of Raider's Cove wasn't helping either, and it was a tad difficult to even know where anyone was. A dark furred Cathar had managed to sneak up behind her on the way to the alley way, and he was lucky he was just out of pole saber range. "You're really still keeping up this pirate thing though? It'd be easier to just abandon it all together."

"At this moment, we don't have anything to go on. It is easier to simply wait for the Howling Tempest's to show up and we can question them." Naji whispers, standing from her sitting position. It was still hot, but thankfully much cooler than it had been days before when they'd landed. She and Nadia had to hide in the cantinas to keep them from passing out. Jedi robes were, unsurprisingly, heavy and didn't leave much room for air. The two, keeping from garnering any unwanted attention, ended up in overcoats and looser tan clothing. Hiding the sabers had been harder, but the darkness of any room compared to the sun outside was enough to hide them. They ran into less questions than expected, other than the occasional 'so who are you running from?' from the occasional spacer.

"Be careful, please?" Felix had asked her once she was halfway off the Polaris, still a tad frustrated that he wouldn't take her with him to Rishi. Well, he acted as if he were unaffected, but he was pouting on the inside. "Dunno what I'd do if you died when I was away."

"I won't die, Felix. But if it makes you feel better, I promise to be careful." She says, rubbing the back of his hands with her thumbs. Calloused, roughened by years of war. But something about his eyes softened her insides to jelly. Dark, chocolate brown skin in comparison to her own sun-kissed pale hues, hazel orbs in comparison to her own azul irises. They were different, force blind, force sensitive, but she enjoyed their differences, and to think she'd let a pirate take her away from her soldier. "I love you." She whispers, pressing a kiss to his lips before Nadia appears at the top of the stairs.

"I love you too, Naj." Nadia passes by him, and he ruffles her white mop of hair, "Same goes for you Nadia. Be careful."

"Alright, alright." She says, trying to brush his hand away from her hair. While Nadia wouldn't say it, and still had a place in her heart for the memory of her father, she and Felix had a hard time not regarding the girl as their daughter. "Whatever you say, Felix." Nadia deadpans.

She nearly laughs herself, as dad was just on the tip of her tongue as Felix waved a final goodbye to the two women.

Still spooked her that someone had framed her as the leader of a cannibalistic gang even before she'd arrived. Sent a shiver down her core just listening to the rumors that quickly spread about her. Eating people? She wasn't anywhere near a picky eater, but the wide berth that had been given by most of the pirates and terrified looks behind their stoic appearances made her rethink going vegan.

Whoever really did go around eating people, she'd hunt down another day.

She heard the engine of speeder getting louder and louder, then abruptly stopping in front of the alley that she and Nadia had been hiding in. Pressing what she thought was the girl flatter against the wall, she was able to catch a larger man, decked out in black armor, making his way into the alley, rifle drawn. Others, the drunk night crowd she'd learned over the last few days, were slower to move away than the mostly sober ones who darted into shops or ran further into the alleys.

The woman who trailed after him, a woman on a mission with a lightsaber drawn and a red kyber crystal igniting it, made her blood run cold. No, no it couldn't be. It had to be some other Sith who just happened to be on Rishi at the same time as her. But one wavering gaze to where she and Nadia were hiding in plain sight, was enough to confirm that the Wrath had less than benevolent intentions of being here.

She pretended not to see her. Reaching out in the force, Naji could only feel a wall. Something between the force and her emotions, something she couldn't reach through. But it was ill-timed, because while attempting to do so, she had taken her mind off the Wrath long enough for the woman to pick up the roof of a stall and hurl it towards their current position.

Nadia just barely yanked her out of the way as the wooden roof crashed against the side of a building, and for a moment her ears were ringing as wood rained down on her and her padawan. "If you challenged me, show your face!" The Sith called out, all too close to where she and Nadia had just escaped near death. "I know you're here."

Hide your thoughts, hide your thoughts, she tried to reassure herself. The other girl couldn't see her, but reaching out to her in the force, they were quick regain their footing. Chunks of the roof came again, but Nadia forced up a barrier just in time, and Naji was quick to wrestle with the chunks from the Wrath. No longer invisible to the Sith and her companion, shots were fired off by the soldier as Naji managed to multi-task a bit and force a basket from a stand in his direction. With the Sith distracted, the chunks were in her control and she threw them back in their direction.

The two were quick, she'd admit. Too fast. Too soon, the Wrath had retaken the situation, and the soldier ducked out of the way, firing off a couple shots before his companion threw a chunk at the shield. Nadia was beginning to struggle, and as much as she tried to keep the woman distracted, she was beginning to fixate on the girl, growing closer and closer to the two before Naji could do anything. The wood was beginning to pound on their little safety bubble, and the gold light it was giving off was beginning to waver as Nadia's willpower did as well.

They had both gotten rusty over the last few years of being off the front lines. Now, they were paying for it.

"You wanted a challenge?" The wrath nearly purrs, before throwing one large panel of something from behind her. "Have one!"

Nadia ducks out of the way, rolling on her side as Naji puts up her own force shield, before something most literally pierces her shoulder, and she crumples in pain. Blood is beginning to gush from the wound, and her hand comes away sticky as she tries to figure what's happened. Eyes trained to the ground as she readjusts herself to be on her knees, her eyes trail upwards to the scantily dressed Sith Lord, and a quick reach with the force finds the rifle toting man now behind her that she hadn't seen before.

She's about to say something scathing before a fruit of some sort gets thrown -more like force thrown- at the Sith, and it clocks her in the head, a grunt escaping her as she can almost feel Nadia's giddy thoughts. Something she hadn't taught the girl, but it nearly made her laugh as anger flashed through the woman's eyes.

She raises one arm, and her heart stops when she hears struggling from her padawan, from her Nadia. Coughs, ragged breaths, as she holds her shoulder, hissing through her teeth from the pain. "Let her go!" Naji coughs out, red staining her pale fingertips.

The Wrath quirks an eyebrow, before Naji hears a slam and sees the woman throw her arm out to the side. Nadia hits the wall with a sickening snap, and Naji is about to have string of explatives leave her mouth before she hears more footsteps coming from the opposite direction. "That is enough!" With an Imperial accent.

Just barely turning her head, she can see green and black clad figure along with a red flash before she manages to stand herself. First, she rushes to Nadia, who groans first as her blue eyes crack open. Nothing seems to be immediatly broken, which fills her with undeniable anger. Fury, nearly, at the Wrath for hurting the girl.

There is no chaos, there is harmony.

There will be chaos if she hurts Nadia again, she thinks to herself.

"This wasn't the most conventional way to get them here, but I didn't think it'd lead to a fight!" Theron's voice, raspier than when they'd first met, but turning from Nadia's rising form, it's most definitely the SIS agent and his Sith companion. Her outfit had changed, but her blonde hair was still present. "Maybe you should've rethought this whole Sith and Jedi thing, Lana."

"I believed that the Barsen'thor would calm the situation first, though it seems the Wrath didn't give her the chance." Lana rubs her temples before turning to her, "Naji, it's been a while."

"It has." She grimaces, as the Wrath doesn't make eye contact with her. "You couldn't have sent a holo?"

"Discreet methods, I apologize for not making our intentions clear." Lana turns back to the Wrath, "You attacked the Barsen'thor?"

"In my defense, I was challenged by the leader of the Red Hulls at these coordinates. I didn't recognize them, fought them because of it. I wanted answers for why I was here and why someone pretended I was a gang leader." She responds, crossing her arms as her soldier reholsters his rifle. "You would have answers for me, wouldn't you?"

"We had to lure you here under false pretenses, but Lana thought it'd be smart to bring you both. Something about Revan being too dangerous to deal with, especially with only one of you, that we needed both." Theron responds, "This...wasn't supposed to happen."

"We're not the most predictable people either, Shan. That excited to see me?" And there it was, the same old Wrath with her flirtatous nature. That, hadn't changed even though her companion had. The burly man didn't seem to react at all, possibly they were weren't involved as she'd previously assumed.

"I..look, Naji will she be alright?" Theron asks, as Lana continues conversing with the Wrath. He hisses through his teeth once he gets a good look at her. "Will you be okay?"

"Nothing some kolto and meditation can't fix, Theron." She shakes her head and allows herself to smile, "It's good to see you too."

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erintoknow · 5 years ago

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Snipe Hunt

@hotlineaisui very kindly let me borrow logan for some extracanonical shenanigans. this was a lot of fun to write.

fallen hero: rebirth fanfic, about 3.4k words, no spoilers, i think?

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You stand in the dark, just outside the circle of light from the streetlamp, propped up against the brick wall of the now closed bakery, a brown paper bag between your hands. Reckon it had been over an hour now, drum your fingers against the contents of the bag. Under your shawl, you’re dressed in your old black skinsuit. Well, old with a few improvements. Being Adrestia outside of your armor feels unnatural, you’ve tried to keep things compartmentalized that way since you started your career. This case will have to be an exception however. Subterfuge is the name of the game and you’ll need every advantage you can get. Thinking of which…

There’s the rising roar of a motorcycle before you pick up the probing presence of her mind. It’s a quick pull to bring your mask back down over your face as Anima comes to a stop in front of you.

“I didn’t know you owned a motorcycle?” You ask through the buzz of your voice modulator.

Anima leans the bike to the side as she brings the kickstand down. “I don’t.” She answers, her voice similarly distorted.

She offers no further explanation.

“…We good to go, Anima?”

She nods. “They boys are ready to jump when I give the order.” She taps the radio clipped to her belt. Anima’s track record is hard to argue with, though it was the network that she brought into play that had convinced you to consider working with her. Like, you tonight, Anima is forgoing her proper villain attire in favor of a black skinsuit and mask.

…You have to admit she wears it a lot better than you do.

She stretches her arms and leans back, as if to prove the point. It’s been a long time since you’ve worked with another telepath, you’re going to have to watch your thinking around her.

You cough and pull a cape out the paper bag you’ve been holding. Like your shawl it’s a long rectangular cut of fabric with a strange silky texture. You toss it to her, and she catches it in one hand. “Thermal reflective,” you offer as an explanation.

She drapes it around her shoulders, fastening it in place.“You saying I’m too hot, Elvis?”

��F-for infiltration!” You sputter. “And it’s Adrestia.”

“Right. You’re the boss, Adriana.”

You grit your teeth, take a breath. Stay focused. It’s time to be Adrestia now.

It’s not a long walk, from here to your target, and sticking to the shadows is old hat by now. Even so, ’dark of night’ doesn’t mean much when the perimeter of the Los Diablos City Archive is a moat of light. It’s hardly the Ark of the Covenant in there. Who would want to steal a bunch of musty old government records?

Well... who beside you and Anima anyway.

A quick scan of the area for prying minds and then the two of you dash across open space to the side door. Anima hunches down to pick the lock while you keep watch.

“Hey,” Anima doesn’t look up from the door as she works. “Can you tone down the concert, Adele?”

You glance down at her, taken aback. “Excuse me?”

Anima taps the side of her head. “Hard to focus when you’re blasting the 80s up here.”

“You have your own mental shield, right? That’s mine.” Still, you try to scale back a little, let more of the world in. You should have already been doing that, be ready to pick up any errant presence on it’s way.

“Yeah… That sounds fake as shit, but whatever.”

You frown under your mask at that. You’re Adrestia. You’re supposed to be assertive, confident, you shouldn't’t have to just take this, this is your operation. “Maybe try actually using yours for a change, Anima.”

Anima tsks only half listening as she stands back up and kicks the door right on the lock causing it to swing in with slam. "Door’s open.”

“A master locksmith.” You mutter as you follow her in.

The lights are low, but visibility is still fine. The building just has that spooky after hours feeling, like there might be ghosts hiding around a corner. Good, spooky atmosphere should make your jobs easier.

You feel the question coming from Anima before she vocalizes it, “So who’s taking what?”

You close your eyes, run over the mental map in your head. Imagine the path as a thread, split in two, running through the building. “Take that third door.” You point down the left of the hallway. “Follow the signs to the backup generator and the switchboard. Then meet back up with me…” You drag your arm through the air, pointing through a wall to where you know the stairwell down is located on the other end of the building, “there. I’ll be waiting there as soon as I clear out the security office.”

Anima nods, “Race you there.”

“It’s not a–“ she’s already half way down the hallway, “–race.”

Welp.

You’re not about to let her beat you.

Turning right you follow the path you’ve already plotted, pausing only to let a tired security guard pass through an intersection. Check in on his thoughts, only to find nothing out of the ordinary. That’s reassuring. You were worried that Anima’s ‘lockpicking’ might have scrubbed the mission before it could even start. Turns out it’s hard to go broke betting against the city government.

When you reach the security office you detect only one person inside, a woman, more focused on their book than the array of TV screens. It doesn’t take much to reach out, encourage her to feel the weight pulling on her eyelids. The assurance that everything’s going to be fine, nothing ever happens here anyway. It’s an easy job. Who can blame her? She deserves a rest.

When you actually step inside, she’s already deep asleep. You gently wheel her chair back away from the desk and scan the control panel. The passwords are listed on a sticky note hanging from the side of the monitor.

Only the best for this city.

You set the tapes to wipe and reset every half hour instead of every forty-eight, then move on to the security system, disabling the motion sensors and alarms. Job finished you step back and clap your hands together. That went far more smoothly than you had expected. You wheel the guard woman back to her spot at the desk to complete the picture. Finally, you reset the passwords to random gibberish. Hope guard-lady enjoys the nap, it’s likely to be her last on the job.

You’re stepping back into the hallway when the lights flicker and go out. Anima’s finished with the power then. With only the emergency batteries most, if not all, of the doors in your way will have automatically unlocked for safety purposes. And if your enemy is going to just ‘leave’ the door open, it’d be downright rude not to walk in and take a look around, wouldn’t it?

Now the timer starts. How long before someone puts things together and raises an alarm? Long enough you hope. You turn on the night vision in your mask, tinging the black around you into a green haze. Someone’s bound to come running to the security room when what’s-her-name doesn’t check in.

Time to get going and make your way through the building to the rendezvous point.

Anima’s already waiting for you when you reach the stairwell. Mercifully there’s no comments about winning the ‘race.’ You have to admit, part of you is surprised she actually waited.

“Don’t be so shocked, Ariana,” Anima holds a door open for you, gesturing you in with an elaborate flourish. “I need you in order to get the archive after all.”

Right. That made more sense. She wanted those files as badly as you did. It’s the main reason you’re taking the risk of trusting her. What is the official report on the Heartbreak incident? The one that even the Rangers can’t access? Hopefully tonight you’ll get some answers.

You push open the other door instead of the one Anima’s holding. The huff of frustration behind your back earning a small smirk under your mask. “Com’on, sweet tea, we’re against the clock now.”

She falls in alongside you as you double-time down the stairs. “’Sweet tea?’ What are you, a southern belle now?”

“Bless your heart.” You reply with the appropriate level of mock sincerity as the two of you reach the bottom of the stairwell.

You take position to one side of the double doors to the basement floor and Anima follows suit across from you. Try to relax, spread out the song in your head and feel for what other tones get caught in the mesh. You can get a sense of Anima doing something similar; a smooth, silvery sensation that splits into fractals before rejoining itself. It’s a little unnerving. Sensation of bad memories.

But the past can’t hurt you, and there’s no one else on this floor who could try either. “Detect anything?” You ask.

“Nope, they’re all running around upstairs.” Anima confirms.

“Works for me,” you push the door open and power walk down the hallway. The server room is at the far end of the basement. No need to drag this out. You can follow the path you already memorized straight there. The two of you manage to pass a whole minute in blessed, if anxious, silence when Anima starts trailing behind you.

“Hey… hey, Adele!”

You keep moving. You may need her support to pull this off, but you’re not going to let her get under your skin the whole time.

“Hey, Avril Lavigne, hold up.”

You’re not falling for it.

“Fucking… Amy Winehouse girl, hey!”

You turn the corner and walk face first into someone’s chest. “Fuck!” You jump back, falling into a defensive stance. The man you’ve just run into similarly steps back, tensing up. Why didn’t you pick up on him? You strain for the man in front of you. Now that you know he’s here you can pick up the faint hum of static. An epileptic? “Fuck.”

“What the hell?” The man is dressed in a crisp white skinsuit and grips a black baton in one hand.

“I was fucking trying to warn you.” Anima hisses as she catches up.

The man glances from you to her and takes a step backward, one hand reaching for his radio. You move forward, aiming for his arm, only to crash into Anima as she goes for his leg. The two of you topple to the ground in a furiously cursing mess of limbs.

The man in the white skinsuit yells into his radio. “We’ve got two intruders on the basement floor! I need back up!”

You scramble to your feet, elbow stinging from where you hit the ground. “Goddamnit.”

“Maybe listen to me next time.” Anima cracks her knuckles as she gets up.

You’re still closer, so the man goes for you first, aiming to bring the baton down on your head. You jump backwards, and fake losing your balance to get him to press his advantage. Like a sap, he takes the bait and Anima uses the opening to kick out the back of his knee.

The man cries out as he collapses forward and you greet him with a punch in the face, reversing his momentum, this time with a broken nose. Anima neatly sidesteps, letting him crash onto the cement floor with a meaty thud. “I call dibs on the next guy.”

You hiss as you shake your hand, it’s been awhile since you’ve punched someone outside of your suit. “So much for stealth.” You frown, and peer down at the prone form. “He had a skinsuit. Was that a boosted guard? I wonder what his power was?”

“Don’t care. Do we still have time?” Anima asks, stepping around the unconscious man.

You pull yourself away, run over the plan in your head again. “I have no idea. If they’re all that easy, maybe?”

“Good enough for me.”

“Here’s hoping.”

It’s not a long run at this point, and just as hoped, the electronic lock offers no trouble as you swing the door open. “Keep watch?”

Anima shrugs, “Fine. Don’t get lost in there Adelaide.”

You spit another curse as you enter the server room.

“What? What’s the problem now?” Anima stands in the doorframe, watching the hallway. You can pick up that silvery fractal sensation now and again, like a pulse.

You gesture at the racks of hardware, stomping your foot. “There’s no power!”

“Uh… yeah, that was the point, wasn’t it?”

“There’s supposed to be a tertiary power supply just to keep the servers running. It’s on every damn schematic and report I could find.”

“Wow.” Anima’s voice is flat. “Someone lied. That’s never happened before.”

“Oh…” You try to think of a curse word strong enough, fail. “Shush up.”

Anima laughs, a hand over her mouth. “'Shush up?’”

“I need to think.” You pace the room. It’s more a narrow hallway with rows of servers on racks. Run your gloved hand across the dusty plastic cases. Which server hard drive has the file? Could you just… take the whole thing?

“Why can’t you just take the whole computer?” Anima asks, still leaning in the doorframe, arms crossed.

You jump. Has she been listening to you think the whole time?

“No, just now.”

You glare at her. Not that she can see it under the mask or the gloom, but you make sure she knows you’re thinking it. “It’s not like a physical file, there’s no… ‘H for Heartbreak’ server.” You grab at a random server, pulling it against the attached cables. “It’s not going to be that easy.”

“What’s it say on the side of that one?”

You sigh. “You know what, I’m not even going to look.” You hold up a hand at her. “I’m not giving you the satisfaction.” You pop the server free of its cabling. “Sense anyone coming yet?”

“There’s some action upstairs, they’re waiting for backup.”

“Can you still reach your people from down here?”

Anima raps the radio hanging from her waist. “Yeah.” You sense a flicker of doubt cross her mind. “Probably? Maybe.”

“Give them the signal. If we ever needed a distraction, now is the time.”

“Yeah, yeah, keep your pants on… uh… fuck I’m running out of names… Adana? Was that a singer?”

You close your eyes, take a deep breath. “Just… send the signal, Anima.”

While she talks into her radio you shift your focus to prying the case of the server open. Taking the whole thing isn’t practical, all you really need is the shiny hard drive core. It pains you, to bust a perfectly decent computer like this but there’s no point in being gentle. You brace the case on the rack and pry at the seam with your fingers until it pops open in your hands like a cracked clam, little bits of broken plastic flying into space. Just another deed to add to your list of crimes.

“Hey, uh… Avril?”

The nervous energy Anima’s putting out makes you tense up. “What?”

“I’m not reaching anyone down here.”

“Come again?” It only takes a good tug to pop the hard drive free of the bay. No screws, thank god.

“I don’t think the radio can reach from down here.”

“Of course it can’t on it’s own, you need a relay to bounce the signal outside… You just said you could do it.” You keep your hands steady as gently place the hard disk into a reinforced container clipped to your belt.

“I said, I thought I could.” She waves the radio around in her hands. “I’m not the techie here, that’s your job!”

“I assumed you would knew your own equipment!”

She crosses her arms, points the hand holding the radio at you. “Well, that’s hardly my fault, now is it?”

“Yes it is!” You press your hands to your head. “Okay. Okay. Okay.” Deep breaths. Stay focused. Stay in control. “Well, we have a hard drive. Who knows what’s on it. At least that’s… something. Let’s just get out of he– What are you doing?”

While you were having your moment Anima had clipped her radio back to her belt and walked over to the nearest tray of servers and with a grunt she, tips the shelving unit, sending them all toppling to the floor. “Covering our tracks.” She moves to the next row and tips that over too. “Now, you got an escape plan?”

You close your eyes, reach out and get a sense of all the little minds scurrying around, plot them to your mental map. “How do you feel about service elevator shafts? They aren’t as guarded.”

“What about these?” You open your eyes to find Anima pointing to a grate in the ceiling.

“The air vent?” You try to remember where those were on the map. “I didn’t consider– It’s a little cramped in those, isn’t it?”

“See,” Anima is already shifting a tray of servers to bring her in jumping distance of the vent. “This is why I’m here. We can just use this and bypass the party at the stairwell.” You pick up an image of the building schematics, from her. Slightly different from your own, higher resolution.

“…I hate tiny spaces.”

Anima jumps and her fingers catch the edge of the metal, and for a split second the grate holds her hanging from the ceiling before it gives out and Anima falls down, a brief moment of panic leaking out before she hits the ground. “Shit!”

You jog over to her as she kicks the metal grate away from her.“You alright?” You ask, offering a hand up.

“Fucking– yeah, I’m fine. Fucking fine.” She pushes herself up, doesn’t take your hand. Fair enough. “You can climb, right?”

A brief memory of scaling bridge struts flashes through your mind and you suppress a shudder. “It’s been known to happen.”

“Well, it’s happening today, come on.”

Crawling through the vents is every bit as terrible as you imagined it would be. Still, you have to admit, Anima was right, it lets you get out without a fight. That’s a -begrudging- plus in your book. Once outside again, the two of you put some distance between you and the sound of the incoming police cars. Stopping to take catch your breath after a couple of blocks.

Anima takes the chance to climb the stone wall fencing off an old church and perching on top. She swings her legs against the edge of the stone, suit scuffed and dirtied. “That was a fucking disaster.” In the far distance the two of you can see the red and blue flashing lights of police cars bouncing off windows.

“If you hadn’t spent the whole time trying to mess with me, then maybe, maybe we could have gotten the correct files.” You clench your hands into fists as you look up at her. “I’ll let you know what I find on the disk we did steal, but don’t hold your breath.”

She waves a hand at you dismissively. “Maybe you shouldn’t be so easily messible, Themis Themyscira of whatever. We’re supposed to be villains. You’re like, fucking Radio-Free Casper over there.”

“Anima, not once in this whole night have you even bothered to call me by my proper name.”

“Yeah well,” Anima turns her head, looking away from you. “Same goes for you too.”

What?

“I’ve called you Anima the whole time.”

“Not my name.”

You frown at that, pull up your mask so she can properly see you, you Ariadne, not Adrestia, glaring at her. “What are– what are you talking about?”

“Anima isn’t my name.”

Where’s she going with this? Is she just fucking with you again? “That– that’s the name my contact used to, uh, get me in touch with you.”

“Yeah, well, they must have been an amazing and incredibly attractive liar.”

You sigh, rub the bridge of your nose. Don’t even try to puzzle that one out. “Fine. I– I apologize?” As you say it you realize you actually mean it. You, more than anyone, ought to know how important a proper name is. “What’s your– your actual name then?”

“I’m not telling you now.”

You stand there and wait her out, hands on your hips.

She huffs and pulls up her mask, and now it’s just Logan who looks down at you. But only for a beat before she focuses on some building in the distance. Logan takes out a pack of cigarettes and lighter from a pocket. It’s a whole process she deliberately drags out; fishing up a single cigarette, lighting it and putting it to her lips.

As Logan puts the pack and lighter back, she takes a long drag and then exhales a curling wisp of smoke.

“Sidestep.” She says.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘Oh’.”

You have to think about this one, slide the new information into place. Finally, you say: “You– you miss it too, huh.” It’s not a question.

#fallen hero: rebirth #fallen hero #fallen hero fanfic #fhr #fanfiction #fhr/Ariadne #*logan #everything goes great guys

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ghostyprince · 6 years ago

Text

TITLE: We Got Drunk In A Haunted Asylum

word count: 2.694 rating: T fandom: BuzzF. Uns. relationship: Ryan B./Shane M. summary: Ryan only agreed to do this video, because everyone told him the alcohol would make him feel brave, and he'd want to punch the ghosts in the face, and it would be really funny, people would love it.

In reality, it just made everything worse.

author’s note: i’m pretty sure this was either based on a prompt i saw over at @shyanlibrary or it was a conversation between people on my dash, i honestly don’t remember it’s been so long since i actually started this.

[READ ON AO3]

or read more here

”In today’s video, we’re going to spend the night in the Hollydale Mental Hospital, while drunk.” Shane and Ryan were both sitting in foldable chairs in front of a camera, one six-pack beer in both of their hands. ”You may ask, why? Well, why not?” Shane shrugged, nonchalant. Like getting drunk in a maybe (probably) haunted place was the most natural thing.

The video started, it was just the two of them, left to their own devices. The others were ready to pack up and leave in the next hour or so.

They slipped into their natural banter immediately, it was even easier to forget about the camera running. It just felt like some of their usual drinking nights, somehow rarely running out subjects, and if they did, the silence was comfortable, not awkward.

Ryan already felt pretty drunk, he was down to his last unopened drink, Shane was doing a little better, he still had three left, but he definitely seemed buzzed already.

He said even weirder shit than he did sober, and Ryan laughed even harder at them until his stomach hurt. Ryan didn’t even remember why he was so opposed to making this video. While the idea itself is pretty dumb, Shane insisted seeing how Ryan would react something spooky while drunk. Both of them expected him to turn into a mini-Shane, screaming at the ghosts to fight him, and rip out his spine, or something ridiculous like that. And Ryan had to admit, he was curious too, how the alcohol would affect his braveness.

He didn’t have to wait too long.

A sharp bang echoed through the empty room next to theirs, like someone smashed a big rock against the floor, scattering debris all around the cement. Ryan let out a yelp, stumbling backward. The back of his head bumped into Shane's chest, and at the same time, a quiet little whimper hit his left ear. What the fuck.

Ryan immediately tensed up, he rushed to take two more steps back, fully pressing himself against Shane this time, he didn’t even care. He grabbed his friend's arm instinctively, desperately trying to ground himself. That’s something he may be embarrassed about later.

"Hey, Ryan, it's okay. It was just a rat, or an owl or something. I bet there is a lot of those here."

"N– no that wasn't a fucking bat! I heard something right beside me, I swear!" Ryan's grip tightened on Shane’s arm, nails digging into his shirt and gently piercing into his skin. He scanned the room frantically, but couldn’t see anything out of place in the dim lighting.

"It could've been me. Relax, little buddy!" Okay. Yeah. He's right, It could've been Shane. Alright. Nothing is there. It's fine, Ryan.

Just as the thoughts formed in his head, a small rock came tumbling down the concrete stairs to their left, every little thud echoed through the empty room, until it stopped at the bottom, eerily still. Like it got caught on something.

Ryan was properly freaking out now, shaking and gripping Shane's lower arm with such force, his friend quietly hissed.

"Ryan, calm down! There is nothing there. Ghosts aren't real." he said, tone gentle, it’s the one he usually used to calm his friend down.

"No no no, there– things like this, these don't just happen, dude" Ryan cut his rambling off as his breath hitched. His lungs couldn’t fill up properly, no matter how many times he tried. It feels like he's choking. Like icy, pale hands wrapping around his throat, trying to choke him to death.

He can't breathe.

He will die, holy shit he will die.

No. He needs to calm the fuck down. Ryan let go of Shane’s arm and screwed his eyes shut, somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware of Shane calling his name. Calm down, calm down, calm down. You’re just drunk, Bergara.

He still got no air, when he opened his eyes, his vision was blurry and tears threatened to fall from his eyes. He made a useless attempt at taking a shaky breath, chest painfully constructing. It just amplified the ever-present pressure on his chest. OK not good, not good.

It's a ghost.

It has to be a ghost.

Or worse, a demon.

He has done his research, the little shits do this.

And they will strangle him, he's sure of it.

Ryan blinks away the tears, trying to see clearly, but his vision was surrounded by a border of inky darkness. It’s like the demons were closing in on him. If he looked more closely, they had eyes too. Hard to make out, but they were there. He made a sound at the back of his throat, averting his eyes, so he doesn’t have to look at them. Instead, he stared at the filth around them and the beer bottles. He counted them, multiple times in his head. One, two, three, calm down, calm down.

Four, five, six, breathe.

Ryan heard a quiet murmur, but he couldn’t quite make out any words. It was pretty soothing though.

Seven, you’re safe.

"Ryan, you’re safe. I’m here.”

The murmur, Shane's voice faintly breaks through his intrusive thoughts, it feels like he's underwater. Every sound is distant, except the loud, constant buzzing in his ears. It made his brain hurt. And then someone or something touched his shoulder, and he yelled, blindly swatting before recoiling. He wrapped his arms around himself, fear and panic bubbling up in his stomach again.

"OK, no touching, got it. Listen- Look at me, Ryan." Shane's voice finally reached him, still pretty faint, but he actually understood the words this time.

Shane.

He's there.

He won't let anything hurt him.

They locked eyes, Ryan's teary-eyed gaze was still panicked, his whole body was shaking uncontrollably.

"Breathe with me. Slow and steady. Do you understand?" Shane says slowly, voice wavering slightly and he starts guiding Ryan, who joins in a few seconds later. ”That’s it, you’re doing great!”

The pain in his lungs slowly drifts away, filling it with air. Dirty, asylum air, but for Ryan, at that moment it was the best fucking air he ever tasted. He's okay. He's okay.

They stayed like that, several minutes passing by, Ryan ended up sitting on the ground, and Shane kneeling in front of him while his friend gulped for air, shivering violently. Ryan felt sick, and a little dazed, like someone had hit him in the head. His throat was impossibly dry and raw, too, he would've killed for some water.

"Shane…" it came out more raspy and quiet than he intended to, but Shane's attention was already on him anyway. Now that Ryan's eyes focused on things properly, he took a look at his friend, who seemed just as terrified. He never saw Shane like that before. All wide, worried eyes and shaking hands, lifted up, itching to touch Ryan, but not wanting to scare him again. It was an awful sight and Ryan immediately felt guilty, so without thinking, he grabbed Shane’s hand.

Trembling fingers slipping around each other, looking for leverage and comfort. Both of their drunken haze was long gone by the panic attack, leaving nothing behind but pure exhaustion and the beginning of a dull headache. Ryan never sobered up so quickly in his goddamn life. He closed his eyes for a moment, and God, he could fall asleep right there if the images he saw wouldn’t haunt their mind.

"You good now? Can you stand?" Ryan nodded his head and looked up at Shane, who hauled him up, and put his arm around Ryan’s shoulders, to support his balance. Ryan wasn't protesting, silently grateful for the help. His legs felt like jelly, unable to keep him up properly.

"Let's get out of here."

When they were standing in front of the building, Ryan took a deep breath of fresh air and it burned his lungs a little, but it felt so good.

It meant he was alive.

He’s been holding the sleeve of Shane's jacket since Shane helped him up and Shane let him, without batting an eye. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. Feeling the rough fabric between his fingers kept his mind clear, it made him feel real. He could be more brave, knowing Shane was there with him. If demons were gonna fuck with Ryan, they'd have to know he and Shane are a package deal.

"Everything alright?" TJ approached them, while two other crew members disappeared into the building, to get the chairs and empty bottles.

"I need some water," Ryan said and cleared his throat to make the raspiness go away. He thanked TJ when he handed him a full bottle and chugged at least half the thing in a minute. TJ gently patted him in the back, Ryan felt the warmness of his hand even through his shirt.

He was alive.

Back in the hotel, Ryan flopped down on his bed, exhausted. He just wanted to sleep. The hotel’s energy was so much lighter than the mental hospital’s, he noted. He didn’t see the ghosts, demons whatever they were, anymore when he shut his eyes either. That heavy feeling Ryan started drifting off to sleep, Shane was having none of that, though.

"Get up, and take a shower, man. You can't just sleep in full gear and filthy." He tugged on Ryan's arm, who let out a whine he will be embarrassed about later. No way he’s leaving this bed for several hours.

"M'tired."

"You can sleep after. Come on, shower! You’ll feel better." He added softly, squeezing Ryan's arm encouragingly.

"Fuck you." Ryan huffed, no annoyance in his voice, and got up anyway. He felt gross, and honestly, he was gross. All sweaty and dusty, both from the panic attack and the asylum’s floor. Why did they even agree to this? He should've known that's how he'll react with the alcohol. It was stupid and the video is completely ruined now. They can’t publish him freaking out like a baby, and Shane looking so panicked himself. Ryan never wants to see him like that again.

Why does he have to freak out all the time? I mean sure, people love to watch him scream, but this wasn’t funny in the slightest. Maybe they could go back tomorrow, redo the whole thing. Ryan hated the idea of stepping one foot in that place again, but he knew, he had to take one for the team.

He quickly finished the shower, actually feeling much better than ten minutes earlier. Of course, Shane didn’t need to know that. By the time he got dressed, Shane slipped into the bathroom, to clean himself off too. Ryan faceplanted one of the beds, only being aware of the fact that it was the one Shane laid on while waiting for him after getting a whiff of his deodorant.

Maybe, he should move, the other bed is just two big steps away, it wasn’t really that much effort. Ryan groaned, and buried his face into the pillow, breathing in Shane’s left-over scent. Yeah, okay, he doesn’t wanna move anyway.

The walls were thin, so he could hear the sound of the water spraying from the bathroom, Ryan’s brain provided him with images of what Shane looks and might look like naked. He groaned because it wasn’t something he wanted to deal with right now. It was for nights when he was a little too hyper or they were at a location, and sleep wouldn’t come. So he’d stare at his bedroom walls, or the silhouette of Shane in the sleeping bag and allow his mind to wander.

To think about how it would feel like to slide closer to Shane and have his stupid long arms wrap around him. It would probably make him feel safe and he could have a good night’s sleep at a location for once. Shane’s very presence calms him down, usually. Ryan would tip his head back though, to look at him. And just like that, they’d be kissing.

It was always an initial shock, to wake up from that daydream, sometimes it felt so real it left Ryan’s chest aching. Like he was just ripped out of that reality, and thrown back into this one. Even after months of pining, it hurt just the same.

He never did anything about it, the fear of ruining their bond loomed over his head every time Ryan felt like he was finally ready to tell Shane.

Ryan was certain he was already half-asleep, but then the bed dipped right next to him, like someone, something was sitting next to him, and suddenly he was wide awake. He bolted upright, ready to sprint out of bed and the whole room if it was some demon that followed him home, but he came face-to-face with Shane. Oh.

”It’s just me!” Shane held up his open palms in front of him to assure Ryan he’s harmless. His face was pinched into a worried expression. ”I thought you were sleeping. Wanted to put some blankets on you, it gets chilly here.”

”Oh, alright. Thanks. This is your bed, sorry.”

”It’s fine, Ry. Are you okay?”

”Yeah. It was the alcohol, and I got scared. Just– don’t worry about it, alright?” Ryan tries to shrug it off. He’s a little cranky because Shane disturbed him drifting off. Not to mention the daydreaming about kissing him. He felt vulnerable like Shane could see right through him.

”But I am worried about it.”

”Why, Shane? Why do you care so much?” Ryan finally looked up, already regretting his words coming out so harshly. It’s not Shane’s fault, none of this is.

Shane was frowning, but that fear Ryan saw earlier was in his eyes again. He looked like shit too, just as tired as Ryan felt.

”Not to make this about myself, you know I wouldn’t, but I was fucking terrified, seeing you like that. And I just want to make sure you’re okay, and you won’t get a heart attack or something while I’m sleeping three feet away from you because I’m not sure how I’d survive that.”

Ryan’s irritation immediately dissolved, feeling brave, stupid or simply sleep-deprived, he put his hand over Shane’s on the cover. ”I’m fine, I promise.”

Shane exhaled, shakily and stared at their hands, Ryan expected him to pull away. Instead, Shane turned his hand around and gently squeezed Ryan’s. Suddenly he felt a lot less sleepy. Maybe it’s time to take the first step. Maybe the universe gave him a sign in that fucking piece of rock. Ryan would be a fool not to take it. And if Shane will reject him, well, tomorrow-Ryan will deal with that.

They were already sitting pretty close to each other, so Ryan didn’t need to strain himself too much to lean in, and press his lips against Shane’s mouth. The angle was a little awkward and he felt Shane tensing up, so he got ready to be pushed back. Shane didn’t push him away, instead one of his big hands ruffled up Ryan’s hair on the back of his head, pulling him even closers, and pressing back against him.

Ryan’s stomach did a flip, and Shane slightly pulled on his hair, probably not even on purpose, but it made him gasp regardless.

They were just looking at each other now, a little too close, both breathing heavily. Shane was the one who spoke first, softly, not wanting to disturb whatever’s hanging in the air between them.

”So, are we a thing now?” Ryan had the audacity to snort.

”We could be a thing. Do you want us to be?”

”I very much would like us to be a thing.” Shane was grinning now, and apparently, it’s infectious, because Ryan found himself doing the same.

And then they were kissing again, knocking their teeth together a few times and they both laughed, which really only resulted in it happening more often. They could talk about what ’the thing’ means tomorrow while having a coffee and maybe some breakfast too, that sounded nice.

#shyan #skeptic believer #shyan fic #fanfiction #my fanfiction #it was just sitting on my laptop collecting dust #so i thought i'd finish it #not my best work tho #but #¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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boysdontcryblood · 6 years ago

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Chapter Two

[warnings from the first chapter still apply; reform school setting, authority figures abusing their power, non-corporal punishment]

. + . + . + . + . + . + .

Ali hated this fucking school. It hadn’t even been two weeks, and he was already about ready to climb the damn walls of this freaky place. He hated everything about the reform school; the teachers, the staff, the inedible lunches, the random ass cold spots all over the building, and the constant detention— sorry, remedial study— were only a few of the many things he despised.

The only thing that made the horrible teachers and dehumanizing punishments (almost) worth it was the new friends he had made. It felt like he was naturally drawn to them, and he looked forward to seeing them at lunch and after class every day. Ben with his silent yet rebellious demeanor; Patty with his bright (if rare) smiles that could light up a room; and Foley with his jokes and awesome hugs. They made his life a bit brighter, and he was thankful for them.

As soon as the bell to his last class rang and the teacher dismissed them, Ali ran out of his seat like a rocket whose fuse had just been ignited. He made his way to the courtyard, where Patty and Ben were standing underneath a large tree. Patty’s face brightened when he saw Ali, but the smile faded as a passing teacher glared at him.

“How long have you guys been waiting?” Ali asked. He decided against hugging them, just in case that teacher decided to stick them in remedial study.

“Our class only ended five minutes ago, so not very long,” Ben answered. “Are we ready to go or what?”

“I’ve been ready since this morning.” Ben’s lips tugged upwards a bit into a small smile, and Ali couldn’t help but smile back.

“What about you, Patty?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be. I hope you guys know, though, that if we get in trouble I will never forgive you.”

“Hey, it’s not like we’re banned from walking around the school. We’re just… not going to be supervised this time. We’ll be fine, honest.”

Patty rolled his eyes but motioned with his hands for them to continue anyway. Ali checked around the courtyard, making sure there were no teachers or staff in sight, before slinking away. Ben and Patty turned to follow him as he left the courtyard. There was a side door across the yard from the main entrance, and Ali had yet to see anybody come or go through that door in the week and a half of his confinement.

This was the one escape that Ali got from the stifling aura of the classrooms or the chilly atmosphere of the dormitories. Little by little, he had been exploring the mansion-like school. It gave him something to do besides sit around in his dorm room all day. Patty and Ben joined him sometimes (Foley declined whenever they asked), and it was great fun to see what they could discover and how many hidden places they could fit into. Several parts of the school, like the entire west wing, had been abandoned due to some unfortunate accident or a health code violation, and these places had fallen into disrepair and decay. These were Ali’s favorite parts to explore, even if things did get a little spooky sometimes. Ali often felt invisible eyes following him as he explored, and he would see something flicker in the corner of his vision but turn around to find empty space. Patty had reported the same feelings, but Ben said he’d never felt anything of the sort. Ali didn’t know if he was lying in order to try and appear cool and collected in front of his friends, or if he genuinely didn’t think anything was wrong.

“Why don’t we ever invite Awsten or Otto along on these, uh... these, uh, excursions?” Ben asked. His voice barely rose above a whisper as they slipped through the door and into an unlit hallway. Ali pulled out his cell phone, which they weren’t technically allowed to have on them, and turned on the flashlight so that they could continue on in the darkness.

“Because they’d get us caught. Besides, they’re in detention anyway.”

“Where were you keeping your phone?” Patty asked.

“I keep it in my interior jacket pocket. Nobody ever looks there.”

Patty’s mouth formed a small ‘O’ shape. Nothing else was said as the three of them crept down the hallway. This hallway much resembled the main hallway of the school building, except there were fewer doors and it had obviously been abandoned for years, if not decades. The trio kept walking, passing doorway after doorway until the hallway abruptly turned to the right. After they rounded the turn, the three students came face-to-face with a doorway. There were no other doors down this section of hallway, and the single door was slightly ajar.

Something about this place made the hair on the back of Ali’s neck stand up. A faint but still nerve-wracking feeling settled deep in his stomach, and one glance at Patty told him that his friend felt the same thing. There was something malevolent in that room, and while he didn’t know how he knew that, Ali didn’t want to stick around to find out what that “something” was.

“Come on, let’s go back. I don’t like it here,” Ali said, which was the first time anything even remotely close had come out of his mouth.

“Yeah, I don’t like it either. It feels... evil,” said Patty. The two of them started to turn back around, but Ben quickly reached out and grabbed their arms to stop them.

“What, are you guys backing out now? I don’t feel anything; we’re going in, and that’s final.”

“Who made you the leader?”

“I did. Now let’s go.” Ben let go of Patty and Ali and dutifully marched forward. Before Patty or Ali could stop him he threw the door wide open, disturbing several cobwebs and lots of dust as he did. A blast of cold air swept over them, and Ali found himself shivering and rubbing his arms through his jacket sleeves to keep warm.

“Isn’t it fucking August? Why is it so cold?” Ben didn’t seem the least bit worried about the evil that Ali could feel trickling down his spine. Reluctantly, Ali followed his friend through the doorway, and he could hear Patty’s soft footsteps behind him. As soon as they crossed through the doorway the temperature instantly dropped, leaving the boys freezing cold with no source of warmth. The cold had flushed away any remaining curiosity Ali had had about the room, and now all he wanted was to get as far away as possible.

Ben had stopped in the middle of a circular room, with only the one door leading in and out of the room. There were several portraits hanging from the wall, many of which were covered in dust and cobwebs and had translucent black veils laid over them. There was one, however, of the current headmaster, and several portraits had remained uncovered by veils, which probably meant that whoever was portrayed in the paintings were still alive. The paintings seemed to follow Ali with their eyes, watching his every move as he slowly made his way over to where Ben was standing. There were dead things all over the floor, ranging from rats to simple weeds and flowers that had grown through the concrete. Ali had to pick his way over the mass destruction on the floor. There was something lurking in the shadows— or, more accurately, the shadows themselves seemed to be moving, and several times a hand-like mirage tried to reach out and grab at Ali.

The scariest thing about it, though, were the several upside-down crucifixes on the wall.

“This place isn’t so bad,” Ben said. He was being too loud; he was going to either get the three of them caught, or he was going to disturb whatever evil creature lived in the room.

“Nope, fuck this. I’m-” Patty began to say ‘out’, but he cut himself off with a scream as he toppled to the floor.

“Patty!” In an instant Ben was by his side, grabbing onto his arms and trying to help him stand again. For the first few moments, Patty wouldn’t (or maybe couldn’t) get off of the floor, but eventually, the shadows that had wrapped themselves around his ankle dissipated and he was able to stand once more. As soon as his feet had touched the ground he was grabbing Ben’s hand and running for dear life out of the room, with Ali hot on their heels. Ali turned and slammed the door shut with as much force as he could muster, and he only let out the breath he had been holding when he heard the lock click into place.

“We are never coming back here,” Patty said. He was still clinging to Ben, who looked more confused than anything.

“Guys, it was just a normal room. What’s so bad about it?” he asked.

“I can tell you that, young man.” Ali instantly froze as he recognized the voice. Slowly he turned around, only to find Ms. Sharpe, one of the school’s vice principals, standing behind the trio of boys. “It’s off limits to students.”

The evil thing that Ali had sensed in the room had returned, but this time in the form of a short and rather pudgy old spinster lady. The smile on her face told the young freshman that they weren’t getting off the hook without some serious punishment in their future.

Patty was glaring at Ali out of the corner of his eyes. He wasn’t going to be let off the hook by Patty, either, and somehow he felt worse about that than the prospect of remedial study.

At least whatever was inside that room hadn’t followed them out.

Hopefully.

#as it is #stigmata au #cody's turn #boys dont cry blood #chapters

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writing-royza · 6 years ago

Text

Tainted Blood, Tainted Soul - Chapter One: Return from the Brink

A/N: Happy… day after Halloween. While y’all are tucking away the spooky decorations and pulling out the holly jolly ones, I’ll be over here posting a new multi-chapter fic on Sunday nights (shhhhhh this one is early, just for you guys) and making things all dark and spooky again!

Just as a heads up, this story is gonna get a little dark and gory by times, there will be adult themes, and occasional language. I’ll warn you in the start of each chapter if these things show up. Other than that… I hope you enjoy.

I do not own FMA.

Chapter One - Return from the Brink

CENTRAL MILITARY HOSPITAL 1319 HOURS, APRIL 7

Afternoon sun streamed through the windows, warming the tiled floor under her feet as she slid cautiously from the bed. The room’s other occupant was in the midst of a post-lunch nap, meaning that if she ever had a chance to break the rules, it was now, while he wasn’t awake to scold her.

Movement on her part was still careful. Riza knew full well that she was supposed to press the bedside buzzer for a nurse’s assistance if she had to get up for any reason, but her own stubbornness and distaste for having to rely completely on others prevented her from doing so.

A solo trip to the room’s tiny bathroom took about five minutes all told with the need for cautious motion, but she forced herself to do it. One hand braced on the counter, she pulled the door open to go back to bed… and nearly jumped out of her skin when she found him standing there. She was careful to recover herself before she spoke; the man might be blind, but he had developed an uncanny way of still knowing exactly what she was feeling. “…Can I help you, sir?”

“Sure,” he answered casually. Too casually. He stood blocking her path, his arms folded over his chest, and the faded grey eyes still somehow managing to stare straight into hers. “You can stop raising my blood pressure by making me worry about yours dropping too low.”

Riza suppressed a sigh. Their third such discussion since arriving here two days ago. “I told you,” she said, forcing the annoyance to stay out of her voice. “I’m fine. I’ve been going to the bathroom on my own since I was very small and there’s no reason why I can’t —”

“No reason,” he repeated flatly, cutting her off. “Like losing an unhealthy amount of blood isn’t a reason.” He took a step closer, one hand reaching forward to feel for and grasp her shoulder. Not strongly, just enough to help him make his point. “Take a look in that mirror, Hawkeye, and tell me what you see.”

The years of following orders caused her to start turning her head, before she stopped with a grimace at the twinge in the left side. Gently disengaging herself from him, she turned bodily toward the reflective glass. “Same as ever,” she reported, knowing it was a lie. “Blonde hair, brown eyes. Ears, nose, mouth… everything present and accounted for.”

“Nice try. I can’t even see and I know you’re lying through your teeth.” His hands rested again on her shoulders, he stepped into the small space behind her. His fingers took up a lock of hair, sliding down the smooth strands, until…. Riza involuntarily bit her lip as his hand stopped, fingers rubbing gently over a spot where dried blood had matted together. It crumbled away under his touch, but not before she caught the dark look that crossed his face.

“Thought we got all that when I helped you wash your hair yesterday,” he murmured.

“Must have missed some,” she said, just as quietly. “But —”

“So that’s one thing I already knew about,” he said, not allowing her time to mount a defense. “We got here, and the ends of your hair on the left side were coated in the stuff. Because of —” His fingers left her hair, moving with heightened caution to the white bandaging that circled her neck and covered her left shoulder. “— this….” He paused a moment, then added, “And with as much blood as you lost, I’m willing to bet you’re white as a sheet.”

She swallowed hard, seeing the guilt starting to seep into his features. Her hand reached up, grasping his where it rested on her shoulder. “Roy, I’m okay,” she tried again, though it was probably useless. She was starting to feel lightheaded, but covered it carefully. “I’m okay, I promise.”

“I know.” His free hand dropped from the side of her neck to circle around her waist, holding her back against him. “I just keep seeing that moment when….” He stopped uncomfortably, then his other hand slipped from under hers to join the one around her waist, and he tucked his nose against her uninjured shoulder. “I’ve never seen your eyes roll back in your head like that. I don’t think I liked it very much.”

“You and me both.” Watching his reflection in the mirror, she threaded her fingers into his hair. A comforting gesture, one of familiarity she hadn’t been allowed in far too long. The lightheadedness was growing stronger, but she smiled anyway. “That was a very nice hug you gave me after May stopped the bleeding.”

His snort of laughter left a patch of warmth on her back. “Sure,” he said quietly. “Nicer than this one?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but stopped when she began to notice a sort of black fuzz in the extreme left of her vision. “…Roy, I need to —”

He was already moving, one arm still around her waist as he carefully guided her out of the bathroom. Just as they had on the Promised Day, he followed where she directed, letting her lean on him until she was able to sit carefully on the side of the bed. Immediately, Riza ducked her head between her knees, taking slow deep breaths as the black fuzz receded.

Roy felt his way into a crouch in front of her, and she could hear the wry smile as he touched her bowed head. “You know, I hate to say I told you so….”

“Then don’t.”

“I told you so.”

Feeling some better, she sat up carefully and his bandaged hand slipped from her head to drop to her knee. He flinched at the unexpected motion, but recovered. “I have had some trouble following orders lately,” she said, taking another deep breath.

“I gave a couple of dumb ones,” he admitted. His expression was focussed, listening carefully for nuances in her tone. His fingers shifted absently on her knee, as if in preparation for something. “But I’m glad you obeyed the most important one.”

His free hand found hers and, after a quick check to make sure the door was closed, Riza guided it to her cheek. “Me too.”

The kiss was gentle, and she knew he was holding back because of the dizzy spell, but she enjoyed it nonetheless. Her hands went to either side of his face, holding him close, preventing him from pulling too far away. Just this simple action of a low-key kiss was proof enough that they were both alive and, if not well, then at least working their way in that direction.

At last, he carefully disengaged himself and climbed carefully to his feet. Riza watched, but did not move to help as he moved cautiously around the end of her bed, walking bent with one hand on the blankets, then the frame, and finally toward his own bed. She itched to jump up and direct him where to go, but that had been another discussion within their first hours here. If Roy wanted to learn to navigate this room while blind, he had to do it himself.

“Did Breda and Fuery say when they’d be back next?” he asked over his shoulder. His fingertips found and trailed over the surface of the rolling bedside table that stood between their beds.

“Not until this evening.” Drawing her legs up, she lay down comfortably on top of her sheets, watching him. “I’m given to understand that Breda is in the process of forging my signature on two Temporary Duty Assignment forms for them, so it’ll look less like desertion and more like poorly managed paperwork.”

Roy dropped to a seat on the edge of his bed, head tilting curiously as he turned toward the sound of her voice. His expression was doubtful. “As if anyone is going to believe you’d misfile paperwork.”

“As long as the paperwork exists somewhere and there’s too much going on here for Administration to be active, no one will press too hard about a pair of supposed deserters,” Riza said. “And with Bradley gone, getting us all permanently reassigned to your office is a matter of one call to the new administration.”

She watched as his face lit up. “That’s right,” he said, breaking into a grin. “All the chess pieces can finally be returned to the board.” He hesitated a moment, his posture giving Riza a distinct impression of a hunting dog with its ears pricked, listening hard. “One second….”

An instant later, there was a knock and the door opened a crack. “Anybody home?” Edward asked, peeking through from the hallway.

“Come in,” Riza invited, sitting up. She was smiling at the sight of Edward, but the expression bloomed fully as the elder Elric pushed the door open and backed inside, towing a shy-looking Alphonse in a wheelchair.

The younger boy smiled uncertainly at her, a painfully thin hand lifting to wave. “Hey, guys. Good to see you… with my own eyes, that is.”

Roy broke into a grin. “I’ve heard that voice before, but without an echo off of metal, I can’t quite place it.” Riza noted that he kept his eyes closed so as not to alarm the boys with the strange greyed-out pupils. “But it’s a damn good sound to hear.”

“And the two of you are a sight for sore eyes,” Edward fired back, grinning. He positioned his brother’s wheelchair beside Riza’s bed, before moving to stand at the end of it. “Did the doctors tell you how long you’ll be in here?

Roy shrugged. “With another transfusion for Hawkeye and some time for both our cuts to really start healing, we should be out of here in a week or so, but we’ll want to get moving quickly. We’ll meet with Dr. Marcoh first, and then head East.”

The spark of realization in Alphonse’s eyes was definite, even though they were still relatively sunken in his gaunt face. “Lieutenant Havoc,” he said softly. “You’re going to him, so that Dr. Marcoh can fix you both.”

“That’s the idea, “ Riza answered. She tugged the collar of the button-up shirt draped over her shoulders, adjusting it a little higher. The wraparound hospital shirt left more of her tattoo exposed than she liked, and she didn’t need the boys to see it and start asking awkward questions. “The trick is getting out of here and then out East in the first place. Travel when you’ve just been released from hospital requires a special permit from the doctor. For active-duty military, that is.”

“We might just end up getting Grumman to sign off on it,” Roy commented thoughtfully. “He understands how important it is. If worse came to worst, he could override it from his new position.”

Edward’s eyes had gone hard, like shining golden coins that shifted from Colonel to Lieutenant and back again. His voice, when he spoke, was cold.

“You’re going to use the Stone, even though you know what it’s made from?”

The room plunged into an icy, brittle silence. Riza caught herself holding her breath, her own gaze sliding toward the other bed and the man sitting stock-still on it.

“That’s the plan,” Roy answered quietly. “Does it ease your mind if I tell you I have my reasons?”

“Does it prick your sorry excuse for a conscience if I tell you that that thing is made from people?!” Ed snapped, his hands balling into fists. “Or did the Truth take your sense of decency, too?”

Roy’s chin lifted, his eyes opening to stare sightlessly at the boy. Edward flinched, just slightly. “Have you spoken to anyone that was outside the immediate centre of Father’s transmutation during the eclipse? Because I have.” He shifted to sit cross-legged, folding his hands in his lap as his eyes closed again. His voice, when he continued, was grim and serious, but not harsh. “I asked Breda, Fuery, and Havoc what having their souls ripped out was like. I also asked Knox, Marcoh, and Armstrong. I asked them all separately from the others, and they all told me the same thing.”

Edward hadn’t moved aside from the flinch and to cross his arms over his chest. “And what did they say?”

“They said it was like standing in the middle of a hurricane, but instead of wind, rain, and debris, everything was darkness, blood, and above all, pain.” His eyes opened, staring at the blankets. “They said that was the worst part. The pain. And all those souls inside that Stone are feeling that too.”

The blond boy’s lip curled in disdain. “So you think you’re performing some kind of public service by using their energy?”

Alphonse’s voice was serious, but lacked his brother’s anger. “Colonel? I don’t mean to discourage you, but… to help the people imprisoned in the Stone, can’t you just… destroy it? Somehow?”

Riza shook her head, answering on Roy’s behalf. “It’s an intensely hard substance. Harder than diamond,” she said. “Kimblee allegedly had one for years and reportedly kept it hidden by swallowing it and then forcing it back up. The acid in his stomach didn’t even touch it.”

“The only way to destroy it is to deplete it,” Roy broke in again. “Marcoh offered to use it on myself and Havoc, and then he’ll keep it hidden. If there’s one person we know who will keep it safe, only using it when absolutely necessary for the greater good, and maybe passing it on to someone who can be trusted, it’s him.”

At last, Edward’s shoulders started to lower from their high, tense position. His face paled visibly. “...Going back a step,” he said, voice suddenly hoarse, “you said everyone outside the centre of the transmutation… all they felt was… pain?”

Riza didn’t have to ask to know his thoughts had just shot miles away, to Resembool and that house in the countryside. There was another long, silent pause before Edward murmured, “I guess, if it’s already created with no way to reverse it, and being locked in the Stone causes the souls pain… it’s better that it be used for good by someone like Marcoh than someone like Kimblee.”

“Almost anything is better if Kimblee didn’t use it,” Roy said dryly, then smiled. “But I’m glad you understand.”

There was a brief pause, and then Alphonse shifted slightly in the wheelchair. “I have a question,” he said thoughtfully. “If Marcoh wants to use up the Stone, and he’s going with Scar to be a doctor in Ishval, why doesn’t he take it with him? I bet there’s a lot of work there that could be done alchemically and the Stone would go a long way toward —“

He trailed off, seeing that both Roy and Riza were already shaking their heads. Roy’s expression was grim. “The Ishvalans wouldn’t permit it,” he said soberly. “As much as they want to rebuild their homeland, and undo at least some of the damages of the war, they wouldn’t accept help by alchemical means. Their religion forbids the use of it, citing it as an affront to their god.”

“And unfortunately, I suspect the same would go for alkahestry,” Riza added. “It’s enough like alchemy that even though someone like May Chang worked closely with Scar for months, the rest of the Ishvalan people would resist her help.”

Ed nodded, then said, “Makes sense. A self-reliant people like them would naturally prefer to rebuild using their own hands and their own methods.” He broke into a grin. “And you know what? I get it. Al and I are the exact same way.”

---------------

Riza had disobeyed doctor’s orders once again, moving to sit with her knees drawn up on the wide windowsill as the sun sank down below the urban horizon of Central. Roy lay on his back crosswise over his bed, eyes open toward the ceiling, his fingers drumming absent rhythm patterns on his ribs.

“There’s something I don’t get,” he said aloud, after the comfortable silence had stretched for more than twenty minutes.

Looking over from her perch, Riza smiled at the sight of him. That position, the way his forehead furrowed in thought, how his mouth pulled tight and to one side in a silent ‘hmm” of puzzlement…. How many times had she seen him do this as a teenager? All of it was identical, fifteen years later. “And what’s that?”

“I was talking a little with Fullmetal while you were getting battlefield treatment for the blood loss, before they shipped us over here,” he said, not moving. “I wanted to know what had happened with Selim — sorry, “Pride” — and find out if there were more Homonculi we were going to get stuck hunting down.”

A phantom feathery feeling tried to claw its way across Riza’s limbs and up her back; she shivered, and it disappeared. Those shadows…. “And?”

“Ed said that Pride had started to try and possess him, like he had done with Al… and that he managed to reverse the connection and alchemically invade Pride instead.” He lifted a hand, one finger raised to forestall the comment her mouth was opening to make. “Believe me, it gets weirder.” He paused to make sure she wasn’t about to interrupt, then continued. “He’s not clear on how he did it, but somehow he tore away everything alchemical that had been Pride the Homonculus and left this tiny little baby-like thing, smaller than Envy at that little worm’s smallest. And he just left him down there, until he could go back after Father was gone.”

Riza hadn’t so much twitched a muscle since he had lifted his finger. Now, she stirred uneasily. “And… when he did go back?”

“…He said he took the thing to Selim’s mother.” He was quiet another moment, slowly worrying the inside of his lower lip with his teeth, then added, “And all of this leads me to believe that Pride was created differently. `Something like the Stone was introduced in utero, and what was born was a full-fledged Homonculus.”

“So that when it was taken away, Selim reverted as close as he could to the state he’d been in when it was given to him.” Riza’s voice was barely above a whisper. Another shiver crawled up her spine.

“I guess? With that sort of thing, when we don’t know anything about it, it’s hard to know for sure. But that’s not what really bothers me.” His frown deepened. “If Fullmetal blasted away the Homonculus part of him… where did it go? What happened to it?”

Riza shook her head, looking back out the window. “To be perfectly honest, I don’t know and I don’t want to know. This is all getting too dark and gruesome for my taste.”

“…Sorry.” He rolled over to lie on his stomach, propping himself up on both elbows. “Not being able to see gives me too much time to think. Far too much.”

“And time in hospital doesn’t help,” she agreed. Slipping down off the window sill, she moved to sit beside him on the bed with her legs folded, still looking out the window. “At least from here, we’re too far away to see the damage to Headquarters,” she commented. “It was nothing short of a mess.”

“I’d believe it, given the number of times I tripped over rubble before we left,” Roy muttered. The fingers of one hand fidgeted absently with the bandaging wrapped around the other. “Do you think we’ll get out in time to help with the cleanup at all?”

“I would imagine so.” Still staring out at the darkening city, she reached over, absently beginning to thread her fingers through his hair for the second time that day. “They won’t even start for a few days, until someone steps forward to take charge and that person can organize the work crews. Even after the rubble is cleared away, there’s going to be months upon months of rebuilding and restoration.”

They sat together, just close enough that they could spring apart if the door opened unexpectedly. After some minutes, Roy said quietly, “What you see out the window…. Can you describe it to me?”

“I can try.” Riza took a moment to find a starting point. “We’re on the third floor, on the west side of the building, looking toward Headquarters. It’s far enough that all I can see is the top floor. In between are two- and three-storey buildings, but what stands out are the chimneys. There’s lots of those, silhouetted against the sky. The sun has gone down, but it isn’t fully dark. The streetlights are just beginning to turn on, so the highest point in the sky is black, fading to pink and orange, and finally the yellow glow in the streets.”

“Sounds pretty,” he commented. “And maybe like all that prose-writing in high school Literacy comes in handy.”

She smiled, but didn’t answer right away. After a moment she said, “When you get your sight back… what happens then? I know you have plans, but you haven’t said anything specific, aside from ‘help fix Ishval.’”

Roy’s smile was enigmatic. “I haven’t fully shared my plans because I haven’t fully made them.” He tapped his temple with a forefinger. “They’re still percolating. But when I know, you’ll be the first person I share with.” He turned toward the edge of the bed, and the box of effects he had abandoned when the Elrics had arrived. “In the meantime, I forgot there was something I had to show you.”

Riza watched, curious but silent, as he sorted through the clothes he had been wearing when they were admitted. Careful, exploring fingers found his uniform jacket by virtue of the gold braiding under the right sleeve, then searched out the left inside breast pocket. She thought perhaps he was trying to find his watch… but what he pulled out was small and white.

“I made the comment earlier that I could finally return all my pieces into play on the board,” he said quietly, turning back to her, “but since the transfer, there’s been one that I’ve kept with me.”

He fumbled for her hand, found it, and pressed the little object into it. Riza thought she might already know what it was, but still smiled as she looked down at the white queen piece nestled in her palm. On the base, written in Roy’s distinctive - though tinier than usual - hand was a name.

‘Elizabeth.’

He was sitting perfectly still, head cocked the tiniest bit as he listened for her reaction. Riza shifted to face him, then leaned forward, hugging him as tightly as she could without injuring either of them or setting off either her wounds or the dizziness again. He returned the embrace just as fiercely.

“I missed you,” she said quietly into his shoulder.

“I missed you, too, Whiskygirl.” His words were half-whispered into her hair, his hand protectively on the back of her head. Strands clung to the rough bandaging, but neither of them cared. For now, it was all right. “Glad to have you back.”

----------------

MEADOW STREET, CENTRAL CITY 0247 HOURS, APRIL 8

Night was when the hunting was best, he had decided. No one stirred out of doors, thinking they were all safe in their beds, oblivious to his passage in the dark streets. He stuck close to the inner edges of the sidewalks, in the shadows, his dark eyes roaming the streets, seeing as easily as though it were day and moving as quiet as a prayer.

He slunk past the front walk of a residence, looking up at the windows on the second floor. Even from the street, he could smell the soft scent of childhood: the talcum powder, the gentle soap for sensitive baby skin, even the milk, cookies, and toothpaste on the child’s breath from its bedtime snack and teeth-brushing. The man paused, still looking up. His nose hadn’t been this sensitive in the… in the before.

He stepped close to the wall, feeling the hunger in him writhe at the subtle child smells. It would be effortless to scale the bricks before him, to get past the window, to lean over the bed and —

The man growled to himself, the hunger raging as he forced himself to turn away. One puny toddler would not be enough to sate him. The hunger was always with him now, always hovering just out of sight in the darkest recesses of his being. Scents, sensations, and sounds called it forth into a near-unstoppable force that seemed to scream in his mind, feedfeedfeedfeedfeedFEEDNOW.

Lots of things were new to him. The hunger, the ridiculously sensitive sense of smell, the surety in himself that most would call cocky — no, that had been there in the before.

Stalking away from the house, hands jammed into the pockets of his dark suit and shoulders riding high as he fought the hunger, he bared his gritted teeth. How much of a monster had he become that he had contemplated taking a mere child? Not enough, he reminded himself firmly. Not nearly enou—

The thought screeched to a grinding halt at the same time his feet froze in midstep. He turned slowly, looking back at the house, eyes wide with the light of a new idea. The child would be nothing… but a child had to come from somewhere. A child had parents.

There was a roaring in his ears, blocking out the sounds of the natural world, and he found himself moving automatically as the hunger took over. He fell back into it, let it swallow him whole and watched the entire scene unfold.

His hands effortlessly gripped the rough bricks of the house and they seemed to flow under him as he climbed easily, lizardlike, to the second floor. He hung there, staring through the glass at the sleeping boy in the little room beyond, watching the flesh of his left hand crowd in against the wooden frame. The disjointed words of the hunger ran through his mind, sounding sibilant in the roaring. Slip slip slip right through inside get in get in easy now the smallest crack the smallest hole not safe not safe you’re never safe….

And then he was inside. The tiny form under the sheets didn’t move, didn’t stir, didn’t wake as he leaned low over the little bed. The small pouting mouth hung open milk cookies toothpaste with childlike snores issuing from it. The nose was small and button, the eyelashes long and a dark honey blond that matched the boy’s hair. The man reached out, the long index finger of one hand trailing gently, almost tenderly down the child’s cheek.

The boy’s eyes opened sleepily, and the man’s mind stretched out…. Instead of screaming at the sight of a stranger in his bedroom after midnight, the boy smiled drowsily and uttered a soft “Hey, mister….” like he might have to a friendly oldster on the street.

It didn’t take long. Five minutes after he slipped inside the windows, the man started for the bedroom across the hall, where a man and woman slept peacefully. He went to the woman’s side first, eyes glittering coldly in the dark as he took in her sleeping form in its innocently pale pink nightgown, her honey-blonde hair liketheboyliketheboyliketheboy splayed over the pillow behind her.

He didn’t bother to wake her, or her husband when it was his turn. Half an hour after first breaching the house, he slipped down the stairs to the kitchen. The man was almost entirely himself again, and could feel the stain, could feel the drying wetness on his lips and chin and neck. The suit was going to be a lost cause, but he didn’t care. The blood wouldn’t show against the dark fabric, not to anyone he happened to pass on his way back.

The man washed his face and neck at the kitchen sink, wiping down the metal faucet and blotting his face with a clean white towel. He was turning to leave when the previous day’s newspaper, abandoned on the table, caught his attention.

‘AFTERMATH: BATTLE OF CENTRAL,’ the headline shouted. Underneath it, in smaller letters, ‘Several leaders in conflict remain in hospital.’

He skimmed the article, abandoning the towel on the tabletop. Edward and Alphonse Elric were expected to recover, Gen. Olivier Armstrong and Maj. Alex Armstrong were recovering privately at their family residence, and — oh ho, this was interesting…. Col. Roy Mustang and 1st Lt. Riza Hawkeye had been treated for mild to serious wounds and were recovering in hospital.

That name. His lips curled back involuntarily from his teeth, and the freshly satisfied hunger twitched deep in the pit of his belly. How he would like to… would love to…. Goodness knew there were times he would have loved to just wrap his hands around the man’s throat, but to… oh, yes. This would be so much better, so much more delicious of a revenge. Literally.

He was surprised to realize he was panting, the rage and his newfound gift combining to make him nearly aroused with the desire for revenge. He wondered if the wounds inflicted on Mustang were the mild or serious ones… he hoped for the serious. It would make him all that more docile when the man came for him. And if just the thought of revenge brought him nearly to the point of sexual need, then perhaps in the aftermath of it, he would exact another type of revenge on that pretty little Lieutenant that always followed Mustang around. He’d never liked her anyway.

Grinning with this new plan, he turned toward the window… and realized he had spent much more time standing here, lost in thought, than he had realized. Sunrise was still an hour away, but his hypersensitive vision could see the sky beginning to turn grey instead of night-black. He would need to hurry.

The hunger settled back into its hiding place, waiting to be called forward again. Revenge would have to wait.

#fma #fmab #Roy Mustang #Riza Hawkeye #royza #royai #fma fanfiction #royai fanfiction #tainted blood

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vol-ia · 7 years ago

Text

Write-tober 4

What’s the point of doing an October thing if you don’t do something spooky? Dolls are decades out of vogue, but if you’re reading this then odds are, you probably own at least one plushie. When did you see it last?

2377 words, PG: Horror elements, Transformation, Spooky Scary.

“Once upon a time, everyone loved dolls.”

You try not to hyperventilate, leaning against the bedroom door. Outside, somewhere in the darkness, it was moving around. Was it brushing up against the door? Or looking for another way in? It was difficult to hear anything over the sound of your own panicked breathing, and the disconcerting, high pitched voice coming from behind the door.

“It was a good time, for us. Dolls were in every house, played with by every child. They were prized possessions, best friends, trusted confidants, playmates.”

It was speaking like a child, but whatever it was, it wasn’t human. You glance down at your left arm in disbelief as the chilling realization begins to set in that you can’t move it, at all.

“My kind? We love dolls. They’re so comfortable, and you could stay in one and have an adventure and play so many games without ever having to move at all!”

Still leaning against the door, you pick up your left arm at the wrist with your other hand. It’s limp, floppy, and feels nothing like flesh. In the gloomy darkness of the bedroom, you can make out what looks like cotton stuffing poking out of half torn seams down its side. Down your side. Your arm, somehow changed, and yet still attached to you. Now, it looked all the world like…

Well, like the arm of a stuffed toy.

“But, one day, it all kinda… Stopped. Everyone decided dolls were creepy! Can you imagine? We all got put in drawers and forgotten about, or thrown away, or stuffed into glass cases and put on display!”

There was scrabbling at the foot of the door again. You quickly pull your feet away from it, just in case. It had been so fast. You were just up to grab a glass of water, and spotted it out of the corner of your eye as it leapt towards you. You had fended it off with one arm while you scrambled back for the bedroom in a blind panic, sending it flying, but it must have… Bitten you? Or something?

“Sitting around collecting dust is just… SO boring. It makes me all steamed up, just thinking about it. But, you know, you humans are predictable creatures. Take something that used to be popular and tweak it just a little and suddenly, everything old is new again.”

Some kind of monster, or demon. How had it gotten inside the house? How were you going to get away from it? The only way out of the bedroom was over the balcony, and you weren’t sure you could make it over the railing without seriously injuring yourself with only one working arm.

“And tonight, this particular spooky night, all of us have come out to play with you! What did you call this body again? A plushie? It sure is cute! I love this little fox body!”

A plushie? A fox? You had a Zorua plushie in the living room on the bookshelf, it was one of your favourite Pokemon. Your eyes were adjusting to the gloom, now. Your arm, the one the monster had gotten, it had a distinctive red patch at the end, just like the plushie in the living room. It was where your hand used to be. Your heartbeat pounding in your ears, you turn your deadened limb over, revealing what might have been, in other circumstances, a cute little sewn on pattern of a paw-pad.

“I’m sure you’ll love it just as much as me.”

Scratch. Scratch scratch. It was pawing at the door.

“Come on, let me in! Don’t you love your plushies? Don’t you wanna hug them?”

Your remaining hand was shaking as you held it against your chest, still leaning with your back to the door. It had said tonight, as though there was a time limit, and possessed or not, the plushie wouldn’t be able to get in if you kept your weight on the door. All you have to do is hold it together until sunrise.

You hope.

“Heh heh heh.”

“G-go away!” It sounds weak, you’re hoarse, and thirsty. You were already thirsty, and now the fear was just making it worse.

“I’m not going anywhere! I’m gonna wait riiiight here until you open this door like a good boy.”

“No! S-stop talking to me! I’m not opening this door!”

“Aren’t you though? You were in such a hurry to get away from me, you scrambled back into your room so quick. But, aren’t you forgetting something?”

Your mind races. Windows? Other doors? The balcony? There were no vents. A hole in the wall? The voice, it sounded so sure of itself, like it knew something you didn’t. But it was out there and you were in here, maybe it was just trying to make you panic.

Yeah, you’re totally safe in here, so long as you keep the door shut. Maybe there was a weapon you could find in the wardrobe, or something to prop the door shut. You cast your mind around your memories of the room, trying to think what might be…

You realise, cold terror raising the hackles on the back of your neck, that you have a Vulpix plushie in your bedroom. It’s on the bedside table.

No.

It wasn’t on the bedside table. Not anymore.

Your attempt to scream for help comes out as an airless squeak. Something darts at you from the shadows under your bed. You flinch, kicking out at it in a panic. You connect solidly with whatever it is, with enough force to send it flying, surely. You look around the room frantically, trying to figure out where it went.

“Got you!”

The voice causes you to tense up with shock. You can barely stand to slowly look down in the direction it came from.

It’s on your leg. The Vulpix plushie.

You’re too terrified to move. Your leg is numb, you realise. The plushie is looking at you, and then it looks down to watch as your foot seems to just, pull back into your leg, leaving behind a smooth black limb with a red ‘foot’ at the end. The Vulpix looks back up at you, moving fast enough that you can’t even see it in motion in the gloom.

It reminds you of the glimpse you got of the other one. A familiar soft toy with some kind of otherworldly glow in its glassy eyes, its seams somehow stretched and leaking stuffing. It almost seemed gleeful.

With all your strength, you wrench yourself out of your terrified paralysis, supporting your weight with your other leg and fumbling for the door handle, wildly flinging your leg around to try and shake it off as you pull at the door. You lose your footing as the door opens, and the world tilts around you as you fall, landing heavily on your chest, knocking all the wind out of yourself.

You shut your eyes for a moment, groaning and wincing at the pain and the sheer crushing weight of fear, threatening to cause you to lock up again. No, have to try and escape. You try to push with your other leg, but it’s gone numb too, replaced with something that bends when you kick at the door frame, soft.

“You know, it’s pretty fun to watch him squirm.”

“Right? You sure spooked him good!”

The voices are coming from either side of the doorway. Groaning, you use your arm, the only limb left that was still normal, and pushed yourself up and onto your side, leaning back against the door and frantically looking around, trying to spot either of them.

The vulpix is sitting a little way away from your now useless feet, its head tilted as it watches you. Still struggling to breathe from the impact, you slowly turn your head to look the other way.

It’s sitting in the gloom, right beside you. Twisted, wrong. Watching. The Zorua giggles cheekily at you, the leaking fluff that was hanging out of its rent seams jiggling as it does so.

“Such a good boy, doing what you’re told. Aren’t you fun?”

There’s not enough air in your lungs for you to reply. You can’t look away.

It gets up and daintily prowls towards you. You try to smack it away and it easily ducks under your swipe, tapping your arm and causing it to fall against the door, lifeless. You try not to whimper as the soft fuzz creeps its way up your limb.

You want to squirm, to look away, to call for help. You can’t stop staring as it climbs its way up onto your lap.

“Heh heh. So cute when they’re transfixed with terror, aren’t they?”

The Vulpix’s grin got wider. “Make him squirm a little.”

The Zorua laughed again, covering its mouth with a paw, seemly delighted at the suggestion. You struggle to speak.

“D-Don’t…”

“Shhh.” The Zorua’s eyes shine as it nuzzles at your belly in a grim parody of an affectionate animal. “Just relax! Keep your eyes on me.”

The Zorua seemed to be growing. The numbness was creeping up your arms and legs, and out from where it was sitting on your lap. The door was pushing past you, getting bigger as well. The whole house seemed to be getting larger. You want to whimper, or close your eyes, as the numbness creeps up your neck and something pushes out into the bottom half of your vision, as your nose changes into a small, plushie like snout, as you finish shrinking down to the same size as your tormentor, but you can’t look away. You can’t move at all, not even your eyes. The numbness fades, replaced with a surreal serenity as the realization sets in that you’ve become totally immobile. It’s oddly calming.

Or maybe that’s just the lack of a rapidly beating heart.

The Zorua grabs you by one limb and pulls you onto all fours, off of the door, your new plush tail springing to attention as you rock forward perilously on your two front feet, unable to so much as flinch as your body manages to avoid tipping over by the slightest of margins, wobbling back onto all fours and settling into complete stillness.

“Done! Isn’t he a cute little toy?”

“He sure is! He sure knew how to whimper and squirm, too.” The Vulpix padded closer, inspecting you critically.

“I knew you’d enjoy it. I told you!”

The Vulpix giggled, quietly. “You did! I wonder what he’s thinking, right now?”

The Zorua leaned in and playfully bapped you on the nose, causing your whole body to rock back and forth. If you had guts anymore, you’d probably feel quite nauseous. “He’s probably thinking about how no one else knows he’s in there! About how, come tomorrow morning, no one will even notice him down here while everyone looks for him.”

Well, you hadn’t been thinking about it until they had mentioned it. If you still had lungs, you’d definitely be hyperventilating.

The Zorua’s eyes glinted. “Humans are terrible, you know. They leave their plushies just sitting around doing nothing, all day every day!” It leant closer, whispering right into your sewn on ear. You could feel a slight tickle at the gentle contact of plush nose onto your own soft fabric. “I could put you away and leave you to gather dust, you know.”

“Forever.”

It giggled again, leaning back and grinning at you as though it could hear your desperate inner pleading and panic.

“Oh, but I can!”

It could?

“Yes! What would be the point of turning you into one of us if that was where the game ended? We came to play, after all.”

The vulpix chimed in. “Yeah! It’s not so bad, being a plushie, provided you’re willing to play.”

Play? How were you supposed to play when you couldn’t even blink?

“It’s easy! You can move around all you want, and talk, and when the sun comes up, you’ll wake up in your bed like it was all a dream. I promise!” The Zorua sat back on its haunches and crossed its chest with a paw. “All you gotta do is… Help us find more people to play with.”

You weren’t quite sure what the Zorua meant.

“Duh! Come on, fluff for brains. Surely you know someone else who has plushies as well. Just tell us who, and we’ll all go over to their house together, and play some more.”

Well… You did know one person, off of the top of your head. You looked down, trying to decide if it was really worth leading this sadistic little monster to them. They WERE your friend, after all.

Wait, looked down? You start, nearly falling over at the shock of suddenly having regained your motor control. The unfamiliar bulk of a Zorua’s tail cause you to nearly fall over again, and your smooth, nigh featureless paw-stubs aren’t much use for trying to stabilise yourself. The two other plushies laugh at you as you try to pick yourself up off of your rear, and laugh harder as you realise that you have a tag coming out of one of the seams of your hind legs.

“H-hey…” The squeaky voice comes out of your mouth, or what passes for it currently. You rub at your chest and neck with a paw, probing at the soft, sewn pillow that must have been your Zorua mane, unable to detect a voice box or throat. “Y-you’re not gonna… Hurt my friend, are you?”

Both of the other plushies stopped dead.

“Hmm.”

“Would you classify this as hurt?”

“We never hurt anybody.”

“Just spook them a little, is all.”

“Yeah.”

You attempt to scowl. It doesn’t work. Your facial expression is stitched on. “You uh, you DID trip me.”

“Oh! Well, you were trying to get away.”

“Can’t have that.”

“Nope. Besides, you’re better now right?”

You supposed you were. It’s not like you had any flesh left to be bruised.

“You see? You can trust us.”

“Yeah! Plus, if you play with us, you never know…”

The Zorua leaned in closer again, its glassy eyes shining in the gloom.

“You might even enjoy the hunt.”

#writetober #writing #fiction #one-off #plushie #transformation #horror #by the way this totally counts as two writes because it's over 2k words #deal with it

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not-a-space-alien · 8 years ago

Text

To Ineffability and Beyond!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

On LJ

On AO3

Crowley and Aziraphale eventually learned that they were in the tail-end of passengers boarding the ship. They were scheduled to depart one week after the angel and demon’s arrival, but they had to wait until everyone was on board first.

A week came and went. No word of departure. A second week. They eventually learned that the delay was the result of waiting for one single passenger.

“Three guesses as to who that is,” said Crowley. “Maybe if we can convince the crew to take off without her, we’ll avoid the situation altogether.”

“They calculated everything precisely, Crowley,” said Aziraphale. “Maybe they don’t want to throw everything off this early?”

“They’ve already thrown it off by moving the takeoff date! I’ve had enough of this. I’m going to snoop around.”

With those words, Crowley left the room. Aziraphale listened to his shoes clacking on the metal grate for a few moments before huffing and picking himself up to follow.

The infinite hallway was just barely big enough for the two of them to walk side-by-side. “And what exactly do you propose to do?” Aziraphale whispered to him harshly.

“Well, we’re already in the third circle,” said Crowley. “All we need to do is figure out how to go one up and we’ll be in the restricted sections. That’s where all the fun is bound to be.”

The two of them had been doing nothing but watching movies on the vidscreen in their room, reading, and walking back and forth to the third circle’s cafeteria for the past two weeks, and Aziraphale suspected that Crowley just wanted an excuse to goof off exploring the ship. “We’re not allowed.”

“You’re not allowed. I’m a demon, so I’m supposed to do things that aren’t allowed. If you don’t want to, you can go back to the cabin.”

“If I let you run around unsupervised, I’m sure you’ll get into dreadful trouble.”

“That’s the point.” Crowley stopped, looking up. “There, you see? A maintenance tunnel.”

Aziraphale followed his upturned gaze to a hatch, barely visible as it was pressed into the ceiling. “It’s locked.”

Crowley twisted his hand, and four bolts fell out. “No it isn’t.”

“Crowley, this isn’t a good idea.”

“Nonsense! This is a great idea. Give me a boost.”

Aziraphale eventually let himself be talked into letting Crowley sit on his shoulders so he could shift the metal pane aside and haul himself up into the ceiling. The demon turned around in the narrow space and held his hand out.

“I’m not going up there,” sniffed Aziraphale. “I’m sure something awful will happen.”

“Suit yourself,” said Crowley, shrugging. “I guess I’ll just go off by myself then.”

“Oh no you don’t. Help me up.”

The space in the ceiling was just big enough for one person to crawl through, and it was filled with pipes and storage tanks and electronic equipment. Aziraphale had a good view of Crowley’s posterior as he crawled ahead.

“How did it manage to get dusty up here already?” said Crowley. “The bloody ship isn’t that old.”

He crawled until he reached a solid wall of computers, at which point he felt around until he found a gap to climb over them.

“There’s a ladder back here,” he said. “Come up, this must go up to the next layer.”

It was almost too dark to see; Crowley was a dim shape moving above him. They demon must have been able to see, though, with those reflective eyes of his. Aziraphale mostly went by the feel of the metal rungs in his hands, grateful that he was not the one leading. He sighed with exasperation when the ladder ended and Crowley started into another crawlspace, sure that they would get lost at this rate.

Light began to filter down through a grate above them. Crowley flipped over on his back and pushed the grate out with all four limbs.

“Crowley!”

The demon disappeared into the brightness above them. Aziraphale dragged himself up and out to follow, only to find himself in a hallway that looked identical to the one on their floor.

“Hah,” said Crowley quietly as Aziraphale slid the grate back into place. “They make the crew live separately from the other passengers at an even lower gravity level.”

“Crowley, we’re going to get caught if we stay here,” Aziraphale whispered.

“S’pose you’re right,” said Crowley. “I’d hate to see what Maria will throw out the airlock next. Come on.”

He strolled over and found another panel in the ceiling, which he promptly miracled open. He did not need a boost this time; a single jump carried him far enough up to get his upper body into the roof.

Aziraphale finally gave into the temptation from seeing Crowley’s posterior in front of him this whole time and slapped his arse before the demon could get it up out of reach. Crowley suppressed a squeal of surprise and made room for Aziraphale. The angel likewise leapt and took Crowley’s hand to pull him up.

“You’re getting awfully handsy, aren’t you?” said Crowley as Aziraphale replaced the panel beneath them. Aziraphale looked into his eyes, glowing in the semidarkness, and shrugged innocently.

“Me? I’m just an angel, my dear. No impure thoughts here.”

“…I’m sure.”

They crawled forwards again, through the same layout of pipes and tanks and electronics, except feeling lighter this time. They came to a similar ladder and climbed up again in near darkness.

Crowley stopped. “What is it?” said Aziraphale.

“I see something.”

“Me too,” said Aziraphale, reaching up and pinching Crowley’s bottom.

“This is harassment,” said Crowley.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. If you’re not careful I might have to start fighting back.”

“Mm, I’m sure you would.”

“I really do see something, though.” Crowley twisted and leapt off the ladder, the reduced gravity making him soar through the air off into the distance. Aziraphale hesitantly followed, not having quite as much faith in his leaping abilities.

When he landed next to Crowley, the demon had already taken his screen out of his pocket, collapsed it into its cylindrical shape, and activated its flashlight function. He shined it around, the light illuminating dust motes on its way to hulking, looming shapes in the darkness, behemoths of glass and metal and plastic.

Crowley whistled. “What’s all this?”

“The robotics, I’d imagine,” said Aziraphale. “The colony is mostly going to be built with machines.”

Crowley started walking among the machines. The stillness of the air combined with the way the robots looked like animals crouching to pounce made a spooky atmosphere. He looked up at the tallest one, a drill, the tip soaring off so high his light dissipated into darkness before it could reach the top.

“Humans sure are amazing,” he said.

Crowley saw the hand coming before it could grope him, and he kept one hand on his flashlight and clamped the other on Aziraphale’s arm before it made contact.

“You think you’re naughty, huh?”

“Maybe a little,” said the angel, feeling silly.

Crowley smiled, leaning in towards him, brushing his nose against the angel’s cheek, as though for a kiss…

The sound of his hand smacking Aziraphale’s arse, and the subsequent yelp of surprise, resonated loudly in the empty space.

“Come on,” said Crowley.

They left the mechanical menagerie behind and found a door. It was extremely thick and sturdy and locked, but it was summarily unlocked especially for them. They found yet another ladder and climbed up in near darkness.

A faint light began to appear in their vision as they neared the top. Crowley reached the end of the rungs and disappeared up over the lip of some faintly-lit ridge.

“Crowley?” said Aziraphale. He pulled himself up to follow.

Crowley was there, waiting with his face exactly where he knew Aziraphale’s would appear, planting a kiss on him. Aziraphale nearly fell off the ladder in surprise, but managed to hold on.

Crowley broke the kiss and pulled away, smiling. “Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it.”

The demon turned and sat cross-legged on the floor; Aziraphale slid up next to him and followed his gaze.

A huge open space soared in front of them, a hollow cylinder filled with bundles of very thick cables, and Aziraphale realized they must be looking at the inside of one of the spokes radiating from the center of the wheel of the ship. A blue glow radiated from the top, shifting about vaguely like a lava lamp.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” said Crowley.

Aziraphale reached one arm out and leaned Crowley onto his shoulder. “I think so.”

Aziraphale’s hand rubbed his back, then sunk lower.

“Hey!” Crowley laughed. “You—!”

“Me what?”

“You!” Crowley pushed him away, walking over to the chasm.

“Crowley, why don’t we go back to our room? We could…hm?”

Crowley was examining the cords stretching off into infinity in either direction; they were moving so fast and so quietly that the movement was almost imperceptible.

“Crowley, don’t.”

“We must be down to less than half a G, don’t you think, angel? This feels about the same as it was on Mars. We must be getting closer to the center of the ship.”

“Crowley, whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t—”

But it was too late; Crowley had already given one amplified leap off the precipice. He caught onto the cords, and with a flash his body disappeared out of sight almost immediately.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale rushed over the edge and looked down, then up. He could see Crowley zooming upwards at an alarming speed. “Ooh, that insufferable demon.” The angel looked at the cords, trying to decide how he could go about it without hurting his hands, then deciding he’d have to live with it and heal himself afterwards. He threw himself off and grabbed a cord.

He had to cheat a little to let himself hold on; the wall panels were a blur of motion in his peripheral vision. The blue light was growing closer and more intense, casting strange, angular shadows. The air grew colder.

The place where the cord met some junction of machinery was coming up, and Aziraphale threw himself off, heedless of direction, to avoid smashing into it. Disoriented, he found that his body did not go back down as predicted, but instead continued in a straight line, spinning over and over. “Ah!”

A hand caught his foot and wrenched him, changing his course sharply. He found himself in Crowley’s arms, who was also likewise floating in midair. His cheeks were flushed red with cold, and his laughing made billows in the air. “You know, for someone who’s actually flown under his own power before, you’re not very graceful in the air.”

Crowley must have cheated to dispel some of their momentum; they slowed and stabilized in the air. Aziraphale looked up at the source of the blue light; a great metal box hung suspended above them, and whatever was inside was throwing out unstable light through the slats in the box.

“Is that the engine?” Aziraphale gasped. “Crowley, we shouldn’t be so close to it.”

“Don’t worry, angel, they’ve got in a cage, see? It can’t get to us.”

Aziraphale gave him an unamused look.

“Seriously, though, there’s a barrier between us and it. A clear one, I mean. It’s rock solid. I felt it when I smashed into it. Nothing getting into that thing.”

The two just floated there in each other’s arms. The blue light lit Crowley’s face and highlighted his cheekbones, his animalistic eyes flashing in the electric illumination. The demon leaned in and kissed Aziraphale, hands caressing the angel’s face.

“I’m so glad we’re here together,” said Crowley.

“Likewise,” said Aziraphale, encircling Crowley’s waist with his arms.

The stillness was underscored by the low resonance of the static of the powerful machine in the room, the two supernatural beings drifting in the air, free of prying eyes, Heaven and Hell and Earth, free of even gravity, lost in each other in the darkness and quiet only broken by the electronic light and hum, their only company the pulsing, writhing luminescence.

Crowley lowered himself down, keeping his arms around Aziraphale’s thighs, and undid the angel’s zipper with a thought.

Aziraphale gave an unhinged moan and tangled his fingers in Crowley’s hair. “Oooh… You weren’t lying about….not being able to wait, were you?”

Crowley made the small, wheedling sounds that he always did during this activity, devouring with fervor, his hands raking down Aziraphale. The angel’s legs wrapped around him.

Floodlights suddenly illuminated them from below, and Crowley broke off, his pupils contracting in the sudden light.

A woman in a blue vest with salt-and-pepper hair scowled at them from the floor, floating with one hand on a handle by the door. Aziraphale hastily re-did his pants.

“Come down from there!” said the newcomer, with an angry gesture at the door behind her.

“Er…” Aziraphale looked around, Crowley still locked between his legs, and realized there weren’t any handholds nearby. “We’re sort of stuck!”

The woman gave a disgusted sigh and threw out a rope with a weight attached on the end, which soared in a straight line right at them. The small sphere hit Crowley in the back of the head, which seemed to have been the intended target. The two of them used it to shimmy down, growing redder and more shamefaced as they got nearer to the woman.

Aziraphale steadied himself on the handhold on the opposite side of the door, and Crowley steadied himself on Aziraphale. The woman was flushed with anger and struggled to find words as they waited for whatever was surely coming.

“You know,” she finally said. “At first I thought you two were saboteurs of some kind and then I come down and find this?”

“Er…” said Aziraphale. “Sorry.”

“You would have been sorry if you two dumbasses had messed something up and killed us all. These areas are off-limit for a reason. What do you have to say for yourselves?”

“Er…please don’t tell the higher-ups?” Crowley tried.

The woman snorted. “Hard to get higher than the captain, mate.”

“You’re the captain?”

“Who did you expect? Captain Kirk?”

“Ah.”

“Luckily for the two of you, we’ve already left earth’s orbit and there’s no way to disembark now. You’re stuck onboard, or I’d have you sent back. I ought to throw both of you out the airlock.”

“We’ve left Earth? But I thought we were waiting for our last passenger.”

“Who just got on this morning. We set off the second she was on board.” The captain scrutinized them. “How exactly did the two of you make it this far? There were several layers of locked doors between here and the third circle.”

“Ah.” They both fidgeted. “We ah…one of the staff left their key lying around.”

She extended her hand. “Give it to me.”

They looked around the room, anywhere but her eyes.

“Give it to me.”

Aziraphale reached into his pocket and pulled out a card that had not previously been there. He sincerely hoped it was what the staff keycards looked like, because he couldn’t remember exactly.

Fortunately the captain put the card in her pocket without much scrutiny. “All right. Now let’s go. You’re going back to your suite. And you’re going to stay there. Right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” they both muttered.

“Good.” She went hand-over-hand into the door behind her, where a rung of handholds on the wall ran off into the distance. She used them to propel herself down the hallway, easily rocketing through the shaft with just her arms. The angel and demon followed, shamed into silence.

They followed the hallway until they reached an elevator, which dinged open at their approach. An empty wheelchair hovered in the enclosed space, and the captain, still huffing with indignation, strapped her legs into it. She pounded the controls as soon as Aziraphale and Crowley were inside and the door slid shut.

“Honestly,” she said. “Honestly. You’re both adults. I would have expected this from horny teenagers, not scientists and engineers.”

They both shuffled their feet, which did not have quite the same effect when they were not on the floor.

Gravity began to pull harder on them as the cart moved further and further down. “Did you not think we would see you? We have cameras everywhere.”

Crowley rubbed the back of his head. “Eheh…It was my idea…Sorry about that…”

The wheelchair finally touched the floor with a clatter. The captain glared at him and knocked on the control panel. The doors opened, revealing the walkway to the third circle. She jerked her head, and they scuttled out of the elevator.

She accompanied them all the way to their room, still muttering.

“Well, it was nice meeting you!” said Aziraphale, swiping to open their door.

“Don’t,” said the captain, wheeling herself away.

The mechanical whirr of the wheels on her chair faded into the distance. They both exhaled, came into the room, shut the door, and burst into embarrassed laughter. They collapsed onto the bed together.

“Oh, somebody,” said Crowley. “I thought we were goners.”

“I told you something was going to happen,” said Aziraphale, tweaking the demon’s nose.

Crowley crawled over and buried his face in Aziraphale’s stomach, still laughing. “I didn’t think it would be that, thought.”

“Yes….But what she told us.”

Crowley looked up. “The other demon. She’s onboard.”

Aziraphale looked troubled. “Yes, I suppose she is.”

Crowley rolled over. “Okay, cool. Just the two of us, another demon, and a metal donut full of humans hurdling off into deep space. When I met Adam in the Garden, somehow I never pictured this being a likely scenario for the future.”

“The universe certainly is full of surprises.”

“Attention on all decks. This is your captain speaking. I am pleased to announce that as of this morning, the Aphelion is fully boarded, staffed, and ready for its interstellar journey. We will be following the trajectory of the New Frontiers space probe to reach Kepler-442 in approximately 523 years from today. The ship has already left Earth’s orbit and is currently passing Mars and building speed. When the time comes, please follow all directions your VA gives you regarding entering cryosleep. And this is an additional reminder that all decks above the third circle are strictly off-limits to all passengers except those authorized by the Aphelion crew to work in lower than 0.9G. I would like to reiterate that the upper decks contain sensitive equipment that may be damaged if not handled properly and are off-limits. Thank you, and welcome aboard, space explorers.”

Aziraphale and Crowley adopted a routine of sorts. Crowley eventually gave in and went to the greenhouse, coming back with another spider plant in a pot, upon which he scrawled “Nick Jr.” with a black marker. Watering and talking to Nick Jr. was the first item of business of the day, followed by breakfast, brooding, lunch, and more brooding. Dinner was served at 6:30pm, and usually they had enough time left for one last brooding session before bed.

Crowley sat with his arms crossed, staring angrily at his screen, as though if he let it know he was angry enough with it, it would give him answers.

“There’s thousands of people on this ship. There’s no way we can count on running into her on accident.”

“Mm-hmm,” said Aziraphale, sitting on the bed reading a selection from his library of books, and who had not done his fair share of the brooding that day.

Crowley pulled his screen out so that it was fully extended and tapped on it rapidly. “I’ve tried every angle of attack I can think of to hack into the database where everyone’s personal information is stored. But I was never very good at hacking.”

He sounded very sad about it. Perhaps he was thinking of the forty-second James Bond movie, which had taken place entirely inside a computer frame and had also not been scientifically accurate. Trying to miracle the database earlier had not worked and had produced some strange results.

“Yes, dear,” said Aziraphale.

“Aziraphale, this is serious! We might be in real danger if we can’t locate this other demon before we go under.”

“Of course,” said Aziraphale, not looking up.

“You’re not even listening!” Crowley huffed. “You’re useless, as always.”

“Whatever you say, dear.”

The day for cryosleep drew nearer and nearer. One day the captain came over the intercom and announced that they had reached light speed.

“That was when we were going to sleep, wasn’t it?” said Crowley frantically. “When we reached light speed? It’s going to be any day now.”

“Crowley, she hasn’t shown any signs of aggression at all,” said Aziraphale. “Maybe we needn’t worry about her. Maybe she doesn’t even know we’re on board.”

Crowley did not seem convinced and remained glued to his screen even up to the very hour when they heard the first circle had started the process to enter cryosleep.

“Oh,” he said.

Aziraphale had been staring into the cryopods, which had been revealed when a panel in the floor had slid back and were currently filling with a blue liquid of some sort, but now he looked up. “What is it?”

“They’ve...This is different now. They must have shuffled things in the system around in preparation for cryosleep. I can access the personnel files now.”

“What!” said Aziraphale, coming over to lean over his shoulder. “Really? You are good at hacking after all!”

Crowley tapped his screen rapidly. “And….there’s the boarding log…if I can access it… Yes! Now let’s see who was the last person to board.”

“She’s in the first circle,” said Aziraphale, pointing. “Room 467.”

“Let’s go,” said Crowley, folding his screen up.

They both cautiously peeked their heads out the door. A woman in a blue vest was hovering near the door and came over as soon as she saw them.

Crowley groaned. “Hello, Maria.”

“Hello, boys,” she said. “Did you need something? We’re still on schedule for going into cryosleep, so you should stay in your room unless it’s something urgent.”

“Okay, you know what, Maria?” He snapped his fingers. Her face went blank, eyes unfocused.

“Crowley,” whispered Aziraphale harshly.

Crowley brushed by her, storming down the hallway. “I’m a demon, Aziraphale, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let some human push me around. The hypnosis will wear off in a minute and she’ll forget she ever saw us leave.”

Aziraphale stared awkwardly at Maria for a moment, then patted her shoulder and said, “Ah, you’re doing a very good job,” before hurrying to follow Crowley.

They found the staircase and passed the second layer, then continued down to the first.

A sign on the door said NO ENTRY. But the door opened with some gentle persuasion.

Another cheerful helper in a blue vest descended upon them as soon as they came in. “This section has already completed the transition to cryosleep, gentlemen, and we’re in the process of locking it down, so if you could just—”

He was taken care of with another snap of the fingers. “Um, you’re doing a good job, too,” Aziraphale said as he passed him.

“Room 467,” he said. “Here it is.”

They took up positions on opposite sides of the door. “Are you ready, angel?”

He wished he still had his flaming sword, but it was far too late to think about that now. “I’m ready.”

With a thought, the door lock disengaged, and Crowley kicked the door open dramatically.

The room was empty and quiet, except for the steady beeping of a pulse.

They drew into the room cautiously, then looked down into the cryopod half-sticking up out of the ground. There was somebody inside it, fully submerged, eyes closed. Her canine teeth were just a little too long and stuck out even with her mouth closed.

“Oh,” said Crowley.

“Oh,” said Aziraphale.

“I…I guess we needn’t have worried after all.”

“There’s no way she can…I don’t know…wake herself up halfway through, can she?”

Crowley palmed the glass of the chamber. “I…I don’t know. I mean, I guess not. I wouldn’t know how to do that.”

“Oh.”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“We could…” Aziraphale grimaced.

“What?”

“We…well, it’s just going to be the two of us and her for the rest of eternity on Kepler-442b…if we felt inclined, we have the opportunity to make the rest of our lives a lot easier right now.”

“We…You’re suggesting we should…”

“I wouldn’t know how to move the cryopod, but we could figure it out. We could do what Maria did to Nick.”

The suggestion hung in the air. Crowley’s face pinched. “I mean…she might be decent.”

“I suppose?”

“Doesn’t seem very sporting.”

“Demons usually aren’t sporting.”

“So you’re a demon now?”

“You know what I meant.”

Crowley tapped the glass. “I…”

They both stared at her.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Come on, angel,” said Crowley, withdrawing. “We both know we’re not going to do it. Let’s get back up to our own room. I’m about ready for that 500-year nap right about now.”

Aziraphale took his hand as they exited. “Likewise.”

#my writing #my good omens fanfic #good omens #to ineffability and beyond

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