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foilfreak · 3 years ago

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Beauty and Her Beast: Chapter 4

Warning: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.

(Link to ao3 version in comments below)

Upon returning to the surface again, Mother Miranda seems confused, but mostly relieved, that Salvatore did not show interest in lingering in the village any longer than necessary. Though Salvatore did end up needing to stay for one last brief conversation, in which he and Mother Miranda discussed various parts of Nadine’s file, as well as finalized the date and approximate time in which Salvatore could expect the villagers to arrive at the reservoir gate with his gift in tow.

2 days from now, was the final agreement, as it would ensure that Salvatore would be the first of the Lords to receive his gift, making up for the fact that he was the last of them to pick. It also permitted him the luxury of some spare time to prepare a new permanent living environment of some kind for his gift. Whatever the hell that was supposed to mean.

Regardless, Once their conversation finally concluded, Salvatore bid his beloved Mother a quick, but appropriately appreciative thank you and goodbye, before closing the large wooden door to the meeting room and trudging back out into the cold, harsh winter snow. Despite a lack of improvement in the weather since Salvatore’s initial journey into the village, the mutant man maintained a solid pace through the snowy paths, seemingly uninhibited by the forceful winds attempting to throw him from his course.

With little time remaining, Salvatore wanted to return to his reservoir as quickly as possible to begin making preparations; though, what exactly it was he was supposed to do in order to prepare for a tiny, beautiful, and apparently violent cadou-mutant woman to begin living in his reservoir with him, once again, Salvatore still had no idea.

Grimacing in frustration, the hooded man wracked his brain for something to do, some way for him to make a good “first” impression with his new gift when she finally arrives. Something that would catch her fancy and hopefully convince her that, despite his terrifying appearance, he wouldn’t harm her and merely wanted to be friends.

Well… technically speaking Salvatore wanted a great deal more than just friendship from the young woman, however given how low his chances are of ever achieving the former, the mutant man decided that he’d happily squash his vile and disgusting desires down deep within himself if it meant he’d gain at least something similar to a friendship with Nadine.

He’d been doing the same with Mother for all these years, so it wasn’t like it was going to be difficult… hopefully.

Upon returning to his reservoir finally, Salvatore retreated from the harsh weather, deciding that he’d likely have a much easier time cleaning if he waited the snowstorm out and got started in the morning, instead. Once the skies had cleared and the sun had just begun to peak over the mountaintop horizon however, Salvatore immediately set to work cleaning up the areas surrounding the reservoir.

It wasn’t until after several hours of diligent gathering and disposing of the numerous unsightly piles of rotting wood and garbage lying around, that the unusually bright and hopeful atmosphere surrounding the reservoir was rudely disrupted by a surprise visitor Salvatore would have never seen coming in a million years.

“HEY, FISHFACE, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU? I gotta talk to you about something, so hurry up and crawl out of your sewer system so we can get this over with, already” Karl’s rough and booming voice echoed out from somewhere within the reservoir.

Salvatore flinches in fearful surprise at the demanding voice, wondering what on earth could possibly have brought Karl, the notorious recluse of the family who never left his factory unless bribed or threatened, all the way out here to the reservoir. And to speak to HIM, on top of all that too.

Despite not feeling like subjecting himself to Karl’s recent tendency toward physical abuse disguised as “brotherly affection”, Salvatore sighs and swims his way toward his younger brother’s voice anyways, knowing that ignoring Karl would only prompt the younger man to actually enter the reservoir in search of him, which was the absolute last thing Salvatore needed right now.

“Mornin’, brother! It’s about fuckin’ time you answered the door. You were taking so long I was beginning to wonder if you’d finally decided to run away and live out the rest of your life as an actual fish, like I suggested to you at the last “family” meeting” Karl says bluntly, clad his characteristic attire of green sunglasses, a brown hat atop his head, a long tan trench coat covering his day clothes, various items strung around his neck, and large titanium hammer.

“H-hello, Karl... W-why is it th-that you’re h-here for?” Salvatore asks slowly, peering at the younger, but taller man from behind the only partially opened gate.

“Hey, hey, come on now, Sal, what’s with the cold welcome? Am I not allowed to visit my favorite older brother without a specific rhyme or reason. I think you’ll be surprised to know that I was actually already in the area, and wanted to stop by and see if you were in the mood for a chat. You know, like old times?” Karl says defensively, placing both his hands up as Salvatore narrows his eyes at the younger man.

Salvatore was a lot of things, but stupid most certainly wasn’t one of them, regardless of what other people thought. While it might be true that, when Karl was first introduced to the family as a child following his successful cadou mutation, they had something of a positive older-younger brother relationship that lasted a good many years into Karl’s adulthood, that relationship has been growing progressively shakier and unstable over the past few years, at least it has during the times Karl has acted like Salvatore wasn’t the only one to reach out and attempt to connect with the emotionally volatile, but secretly terrified young boy, when he first arrived.

Deep down, Salvatore still had something of a soft spot for Karl, a soft spot that he occasionally allowed himself to indulge in whenever Karl wasn’t acting like a royal asshole, but those moments of peace and solidarity between oldest and youngest brother had been few and far in between recently. Not to mention that Salvatore would be lying if he said he wasn’t growing increasingly more suspicious and distrustful of Karl and whatever secrets the younger man was hiding in that factory of his. He hadn’t the slightest idea what he could be up to, but something told Salvatore that Karl had more reason to be here than just pure coincidence.

“P-perhaps… what i-is it that you w-want to t-talk about?” Salvatore replies curtly, not wanting to just go along with whatever Karl wanted, but for some reason still willing to give the younger man a chance to prove himself.

Taking a brief moment to look over both his shoulders, Karl places the heavy end of his hammer on the ground and leans inward toward Salvatore, lowering his voice as he whispers, “You see your gift from Mother yet?”

This question took Salvatore by surprise, not expecting the gifts Mother Miranda had given them to be the reason why Karl was here.

“I… I h-have… why?” The disfigured man asks curiously, pushing the gate open a little further so that Karl, despite Salvatore’s earlier reservations toward the younger man, could squeeze his way inside.

Upon entering through the gate, Karl immediately takes 2 cigars out of his back pocket and lights the first one. “Curiosity mostly… but also cuz I think there’s more to this whole “gift” thing than Miranda wants us to believe,” the bespeckled man says, blowing a lungful of smoke out his nose as he offers Salvatore the second cigar. “You still smoke, old man?”

“I-I… I r-really shouldn’t” Salvatore says, turning his back toward Karl’s outstretched hand, even as the wonderfully woody scent fills his nose and his mouth begins to water.

“Oooooh, but something tells me you want to” Karl teases, sauntering over to the older man so that he could wave the fresh cigar in Salvatore’s face, chuckling in amusement when the fish mutant’s gaze locked onto and followed the unlit stick like a dog would a slab of meat.

“B-but it… M-Mother has s-said… m-many times… th-that she d-doesn’t like… doesn’t like when we s-smoke… because… uh, b-because...” Salvatore trails off, trying to remain strong for Mother Miranda, even as his self-control slowly continues to crack.

“Come on, lighten up a little bit, old man. It’s just one cigar. You smoked a pack of these things a day, like they were the only things keeping you going, both throughout my whole adolescence and, if what Duke says is to be trusted which we both know it is, well after I left for my factory, too. When the hell did you start being such a stick in the mud? No wonder I stopped hanging out with you, you’re like a fuckin’ parrot that repeats everything than goddamn woman says, it’s like I can’t escape her no matter where I fuckin’ go” Karl groans in a slightly childish tone of voice as he trudges forward to sit on one of the docks overlooking the calm water below.

Salvatore slowly moves to join him as he says, “S-she’s right th-though… it r-really isn’t good… f-for you… I smoked e-everyday for m-many years... an-and now I’m p-paying for my i-ignorance… Mother o-only nags at you… b-because she c-cares… and s-she’s always r-right… in the e-end...”

“Oh, fuck what Miranda says, I’m tired of that woman. Always telling us what to do and then thinking that pushing a couple of failed experiments onto us as “gifts” will make up for the fact that she’s disappearing off the face of the planet without a single trace and not telling us when she’ll be back. As far as I’m concerned, when Miranda’s not here, she’s not the boss of me. And the same goes for you, too” Karl says, roughly punching Salvatore in the shoulder.

“I-I don’t… I don’t think th-that’s how this w-works, Karl” Salvatore counters. “Even w-with Mother l-leaving us… f-for a t-time... we still h-have to make s-sure that th-things c-continue on… continue on as p-planned… or e-else we’ll really b-be in trouble… w-when she g-gets back.”

“Maybe,” Karl says thoughtfully, before taking another drag of his cigar. “I don’t know… I just have a sinking feeling that there’s something weird going on behind the scenes and these “gifts”, that she’s giving us, are nothing more than distractions to keep us entertained while she goes and does… whatever the fuck it is she plans on doing while she’s gone.”

Salvatore pauses for a moment, briefly remembering back to when Mother first told him that she’d be leaving the village to go “visit someone”, who she believed could be very important to their mission of reviving Mother’s long lost baby, Eva. Although he hadn’t thought very much of it at the time, the mutant man also remembers Mother saying something about how well Nadine would do at “keeping him occupied” until she finally returned, and maybe even after that, too. But why would Mother Miranda want or need him to be “occupied” when she got back? Wouldn’t she want to share her findings with him so they could work toward creating a vessel to revive Eva in? Wouldn’t she want to see and speak to him again after being away for so long?

Or maybe… could… could Karl actually be onto something here? Salvatore felt terrible doubting Mother Miranda, but he’d be lying if he said that Karl didn’t have a point about Mother’s behavior seeming odd, now that he was in the proper headspace to go back and analyze the memory properly, at least.

“B-but… if Mother h-has gone o-out of her w-way… to make sure that w-we won’t be l-lonely... w-while she’s away… isn’t th-that a… a good th-thing… doesn’t that m-mean she c-cares a-bout us... enough to… e-enough to do something l-like this?” Salvatore asks nervously, watching the younger man intently as he contemplates his response.

“I guess so, at least when you word it like that, it does. But something tells me there’s more to this than she’s led us to believe. She’s got something planned, and she’s definitely after something, and once she gets her hands on it, who the hell knows what’ll happen… whatever it is though, I doubt it’ll be very good, for any of us.”

“D-don’t say th-things l-like that… I-I’m sure M-Mother has a-a reason… a reason w-why she’s leaving… an-and if she d-doesn’t tell us w-what it is… b-before she leaves… th-then Im sure… I’m sure sh-she’ll tell u-us when she g-gets back… she’ll l-let us in o-on her p-plan… wh-when she’s ready… an-and then… once e-everything is… said a-and done… we c-can revive… r-revive Eva… and b-be a real f-family… a-at long l-last… isn’t th-that what w-we a-all want, after a-all… a f-family?” Salvatore asks, hoping this was doing something to ease the younger man’s clearly agitated mind.

What on earth it was that was causing so much turmoil as it flew around inside Karl’s head, Salvatore had no idea. But something about the bespectacled man’s unusually contemplative and concerned mood, coupled with the fact that he’d only punched Salvatore once since his arrival, was beginning to leave an acidic taste in the deformed man’s mouth.

Karl really and truly thought something was wrong, and the younger man’s continued insistence upon this fact was beginning to make Salvatore very very anxious.

Perhaps it was the unusually good and excited mood that Salvatore was in due to the near arrival of his gift, or maybe it was that soft spot for Karl I mentioned earlier, but regardless of the reason, Salvatore felt the odd need to help alleviate the younger man’s bad mood, just like he used to do for him back when Karl was still barely taller than his shoulder.

Mother Miranda certainly wouldn’t be pleased if she found out that Salvatore had broken his mandatory sobriety despite her explicit orders to avoid smoking so his experiment results wouldn't be hindered. That being said however, Miranda always seemed to want her 4 children to get along and be close, like real siblings, so Salvatore supposed that he could allow himself a break from his smoking break so long as, if Miranda did manage to find out somehow, he could get himself out of trouble by spinning it as a rare moment of sibling bonding between the oldest and youngest siblings, rather than the reality of the situation.

“I… I’ll t-take that cigar… if you’re n-not gonna smoke it… th-that is” Salvatore says, a small chuckle escaping him when Karl cheers in delight, practically throwing both the lighter and the cigar into the deformed man’s hands.

Salvatore’s first breath of the cigar is nothing short of heavenly once he finally lights it and takes a drag, and its moments like these when the mutant man finds himself secretly grateful that Karl hasn’t listened to a goddamn word Mother Miranda has said in nearly 4 decades.

A long period of silence passes as both brothers merely sit beside one another and secretly enjoy each other’s company.

“Miranda let me pick my gift first, so I didn’t get to see where the others went. Who did you end up with?” Karl asks, finally breaking the silence.

“T-the… the sh-short one,” Salvatore replies, “with b-blue skin, black h-hair, a-and, uh… oh, an-and white d-dots… all o-over her… l-like freckles… fins t-too”

“Oh ya, I remember that one. Gorgeous little thing, she was” Karl says, nodding his head in appreciation as a devilish smile spreads across his unshaven lips. “With quite the… voluptuous figure too, if I remember correctly.”

“I… well… I-I don’t know i-if… I d-didn’t... shut up...” Salvatore mumbles under his breath, taking a long drag from his cigar as Karl throws his head back laughing like a hyena at his older brother’s sudden bashfulness.

“Ah, come on, Sal, don’t be such a downer all the fuckin’ time, I’m just teasing. I know you still think about shit like that, too, even if you’ve managed to convince Alcina and everybody else that you’re just an innocent little follower who hasn’t had an independent, or dirty thought of his own since the cadou took hold. You used to be a fuckin’ doctor for crying out loud, and you’re still annoyingly the person Miranda goes to first whenever she has a new experiment in mind, cuz you’re smart AND she can trust you. You might look like you fell off the truck that was taking you and your fishy friends to market, but I’ve known you too long for that bullshit act of yours to work on me.”

“Act?” Salvatore asks, genuinely confused by what Karl means.

“You know, that stupid fuckin’ “moronic freak” act you do whenever Miranda’s around. The one where you act like you don’t know what the fuck is going on or what something is so that she’ll take pity on how stupid and childish you’re acting and give you more attention. It’s pathetic to watch and I’m gettin’ sick of seeing you do it all the time. Knock it off, you’re better than that.”

“I’ll… um… b-be sure not to… to m-make it s-seem as… uh… I’ll k-keep that in m-mind” Salvatore finally says, casting his gaze down to his pants for a moment, unsure how to feel about how… friendly and kind Karl was being all of a sudden. Salvatore knew Karl secretly cared about him, the brat does far too many conveniently nice things for him throughout the year for him not to, but hearing the younger man voice his surprisingly high opinion of him was definitely shocking, though still quite touching, all the while.

“W-which gift… d-did you end u-up… getting, Karl? I d-didn’t get t-the chance to… to s-see the others… M-Mother only showed me Nadi-er… my g-gift” Salvatore asks, deciding, at the last second, against using his gift’s real name lest Karl be given even more artillery to tease and riddle him with.

“Eh, just some tall dark haired broad. I think Miranda said something about her being Indian, or something along those lines.”

“O-oh… d-did Mother say a-anything about… whether she’s actually f-from here… o-or did she immigrate… f-from India?” Salvatore asks, tilting his head curiously as this new information about Karl’s gift piques his interest.

Karl stares at Salvatore with a look of confusion for a moment, his mouth opening and closing silently like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words for it. Until, “Aren’t Indians from America?”

The sound of Salvatore’s right palm making firm and painful contact with the back of Karl’s head echoes across the reservoir almost as loudly as the following cry of pain from the man himself.

“OW! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?” Karl roars angrily, pushing himself to his feet while he rubs at the back of his head, hat lopsided and barely hanging on to his head and green glasses no longer perched upon his nose, likely sinking to the murky lake floor just below the docks they were sitting on.

“I d-didn’t spend… th-the better part o-of 15 years… p-pounding an education... i-into y-your th-thick head... for you t-to say… f-for you to b-be spouting dumb shit… l-like that” Salvatore growls in annoyance, eying the taller man with a look that even he wouldn’t dare argue against, at least not with Sal he wouldn’t.

It’s moments like these when Salvatore is very happy that Karl, for as strong and fearless as he is now as a fully grown adult, is still just a little bit afraid of him after all these years. Not because of anything bad or horrifically traumatic of course, especially considering how often Salvatore had gone out of his way to ensure Karl had the least traumatic upbringing he could possibly provide the young boy, given both their situations. As much as he hated to admit it, even Karl would agree that Salvatore had done a pretty decent job of not fucking him up anymore than he already was, which the younger man would secretly always be thankful for. However, even a person as naively patient and serving toward others as Salvatore had his breaking point, and all it took was one especially bad day, resulting in the one and only time Salvatore has ever left a mark upon the younger man’s skin, for Karl to realize that Salvatore was the last person in this godforsaken village he wanted to purposefully make an enemy out of.

Thankfully, their relationship never suffered negatively from that one-off event, but it did force the two to come to a mostly unspoken agreement that has remained present and active, if slightly ignored at certain times, from that point forward. Agreement or not however, Salvatore could never bring himself to harm Karl like that again, even if he wanted to, which was probably the main reason why Karl was still the most comfortable around him, even after all these years. It was a secret they shared between them, and them alone, and it would be one that he would cherish for the rest of his life, as Karl would secretly cherish the kindness and brotherly love Salvatore had treated him with for all these years. They were brothers, regardless of whether they got along or not, and nothing in the would world would be able to change that.

That being said however, Karl was about to be in for a very rude awakening if he thought he could just do and say whatever the hell he wanted around Salvatore without there being any consequences.

“‘A-aren’t Indians f-from A-America?’ G-good grief... I o-oughta throttle y-you for th-that one” Salvatore grumbles through another drag of his cigar, shaking his head in utter disbelief and disappointment. Karl was so intelligent, and yet he could be so stupid sometimes that it physically hurt Salvatore to think about.

“But there ARE Indians in America, aren’t there? I know I’m not wrong here” Karl defends aggressively, his anger quickly giving way to embarrassment when Salvatore raises his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration and annoyance.

“Th-they’re called N-Native Americans... f-first of all... they w-were only c-called I-Indians... b-because the g-guy... the moron who f-first sailed t-to the A-Americas... w-was actually... looking for I-India... the r-real India... b-but back th-then... you h-had to go all th-the way... a-around Africa... to g-get there... but he th-thought h-he could do... d-do it a d-different w-way... he thought h-he could f-find India... by s-sailing straight f-from S-Spain... and g-going around the whole w-world... until h-he came b-back around... an-and hit Asia” Salvatore explained slowly, hoping to maintain his delusion that Karl had, in fact, paid attention to at least some of the lessons he gave the boy throughout their time together, even if it wasn’t actually true.

“But he didn’t. He hit the Americas and started calling the locals Indians cuz the guy, what’s-his-face... Columbine... Columbus... whatever, was dumb enough to think he was in India and not a totally different landmass” Karl finishes, looking like he at least remembered hearing about his information before, which was good enough for Salvatore.

Despite the grimace still etched onto his face, Karl groans in annoyed defeat and slinks back down to sit next to Salvatore, still cradling the back of his head.

“Anyways, as i was saying before I was so rudely interrupted with a goddamn history lesson-”

“You w-want another s-smack?” Salvatore threatens, mildly amused when Karl pauses his dramatic retelling, before sliding just a few inches to the right, away from Salvatore’s preferred disciplining hand.

Coughing slightly, Karl continues. “Anyways… going back to my “finding the silver lining” idea, or whatever the fuck its called. This whole “gift” thing might actually work out kinda nice for me in the long run, especially since the one I got looked like she was strong and could handle herself in a rough and tumble environment. If she proves herself, I’m planning on turning her into my assistant” Karl explains casually. “As much as I hate working with other people, normally, I’ve got some projects that would really benefit from a second pair of hands, so I’m attempting to make a “silver lining” moment out of this bullshit “gift” thing Miranda’s tryin to do and just hope and pray that things work out in my favor. Though, to be fair, if things with this girl don’t go well, I could always use her body for a cool idea I’ve had cooked up for a while now. What about you? What are you planning on doing with your new little toy once it finally arrives?”

Salvatore merely shrugs his shoulders. “It w-would be nice… i-if we c-could be f-friends… somehow… but…”

“Ya… you’re not exactly working with the latest and greatest set up, huh? Even a mutant girl might need a little bit to get adjusted to a face like that” Karl says.

“That’s c-certainly one way o-of p-putting it” Salvatore replies dejectedly.

Karl flinches slightly, which surprises Salvatore, since the younger man has a habit of caring very little for how his words affect those around him. Why on earth was he being so considerate, all of a sudden?

“Look, uh… what I meant to say was that… ok, so maybe you’re not like, the best looking guy ever, but like…” Karl stammers and stutters, trying desperately to figure out what he wants to say but seemingly coming up short every time.

Salvatore narrows his eyes again, suspicion returning. “You’re h-hiding something f-from me… w-what are you a-after, Karl?” Salvatore asks seriously, fixing the younger man with a stern look that he knows Karl recognizes.

“Hey, don’t you give me that fuckin’ look. I am too fuckin’ old for you to be looking at me like that, what am I, 12?” Karl asks.

“You c-certainly act l-like it… most of th-the time” Salvatore grumbles under his breath.

Karl clearly heard him, but knew better than to argue with the water not even a foot below where the two were currently sitting, his sunglasses having already taken a nice little dive as punishment for his big mouth. Salvatore might have only agreed to speak with Karl because the latter had demanded it, but they were still very much in Salvatore’s territory, and it wasn’t even a question of who had the topographical advantage should an “argument” actually break out between them.

Karl is strong, nobody can deny that. But Salvatore has the home advantage, and they both know it.

After a moment of tense staring, Karl finally breaks first, sighing heavily before tossing his finished cigar cap into the water below them, a crime Salvatore briefly contemplates knocking the younger man in for, before deciding against it, knowing, with his luck, that it would only come back to bite him in the ass later.

“Alright look,” Karl finally says, a look of frustrated determination on his face, “I don’t know what Miranda really has planned past her whole “get a suitable vessel for Eva” obsession, or what she’s really after on this mission of hers… but something about this whole situation going on recently just doesn’t feel right to me, and I think we need to do something about it before something bad happens and we all somehow end up dead. Now, I'm not 100% sure why I’m talking about this with the head of Miranda’s fuckin’ fanclub, but considering what my other 2 options were it wasn’t like I had much of a damn choice. My only saving grace right now is the fact that you’ll at least occasionally listen to fuckin’ reason, given your gaping maw can be yanked from Miranda’s tit long enough to hear me out, that is. It’s certainly better than my chances with Lady Super-sized Bitch and Crazy Psycho Doll, over there.”

“Are you s-sure you’re n-not just being p-paranoid?” Salvatore asks slowly, not wanting to offend Karl by outright stating he didn’t believe the younger man’s hunch, but also trying to figure out if Karl actually has something to be concerned about, or if he’s just looking for an excuse to badmouth Miranda.

“No, no no no, don’t you do this to me too, Sal” Karl begs in frustration. “You can go about the rest of your life loving the absolute shit out of that crazy woman if you want to and I won’t say a goddamn thing about it, but I need you to promise me, and I mean promise me, that if you see or hear something weird regarding Miranda and this little “trip” she’s about to go on, you come tell me so that we can at least make sure our own asses are covered when shit hits the fan.”

“Well… I-I uh…”

“Come on, Sal. None of these psychotic assholes have ever had my back like you, and that’s exactly the reason why I’m telling you all this” Karl says honestly, catching Salvatore off guard with the oddly familiar wording.

“I know I can be a royal fucking pain in the ass most of the time and that I’m not always the… nicest to you… even though you did kinda do... a bit for me here and there when I was a little tyke... But none of that matters now, because even if Miranda isn’t trying to hide something from us, with the two of us banded together, we could do whatever the hell we wanted while she’s gone, and neither of the other shitheads would be able to tell us otherwise. What do you say, Sal? Come on, you and me, together, just like when I was a kid, remember?” Karl asked excitedly, his eyes shimmering in boyish glee as he spouts off all the things they’d be able to get away with when Miranda finally left, the torment they’d be able to unleash upon Alcina being a particular favorite of Karl’s, it would seem.

Salvatore remained silent for a moment, contemplating the deal he’d just been given.

It’s… not a terrible deal, at least compared to some of the previous deals Salvatore has been offered in the past. It wasn’t like him agreeing to “ally” himself with Karl was a direct declaration of war against Mother Miranda or anything like that, merely a mutual effort that would guarantee safety for both him and Karl should Mother’s plan not go exactly as she wanted, which scientific experiments were known to do. Not to mention that giving Alcina a good messing with did sound like quite a bit of fun.

Maybe… maybe Karl was right. Maybe Salvatore was being a bit too much of a stick in the mud. It was just Karl after all, who Salvatore had practically raised, starting from the boy’s arrival into the family at 6 years old and more or less up until his factory was completed just after his 22nd birthday. Karl could certainly be a handful for even the most powerful individuals, but even on his worst days, he always found some backwards, convoluted way to apologize for his behavior.

“W-well… I-I’m not s-sure… I d-don’t know how I f-feel about… about d-doing things th-that Mother… wouldn’t a-approve of… just b-because sh-she’s gone...”

“But...” Karl continued for him.

“B-but I suppose… k-keeping each other u-updated… when we f-find… or h-hear s-something weird is… wouldn’t be… wouldn’t be th-the worst idea… in th-the world… e-even if it just t-turns out that… we w-were just being p-paranoid.”

“Excellent! That’s just what I was hoping to hear” Karl says triumphantly, standing up.

“A-are you l-leaving, already?”

“Ya” Karl affirms, “I’ve got work to do at the factory, and based on the look of things here, you were busy with a project of your own it looks like.”

Salvatore nods, pocketing his freshly finished cigar cap for later, proper, disposal. “I c-can’t even remember… the l-last time I… p-properly cleaned this p-place… it l-looks so m-much nicer… even w-without being f-fully finished…”

“Good for you. My own property could probably do with a good cleaning of its own now that you mention it. If nothing else though, I’m sure your new little lady friend will appreciate that you picked up the place for her arrival.”

“Y-you think s-so?” Salvatore asks.

Karl shrugs his shoulders. “Who knows with chicks, they’re unpredictable, but I suppose it’s possible. Then again, maybe not considering who you ended up with. I don’t know the full story or anything like that, but based on what I heard from Miranda, that blue bitch you went with was the craziest one of them all. Practically tore her pod apart the first time Miranda tried to put her in it, and caused all sorts of other damage throughout her mutation phase too, not that I blame the poor girl. I’d tear that whole lab right out from under the surface and set it ablaze if I could. Going back down there after so many years… I was puking like you for the rest of the fuckin’ day when I finally got out of that hellhole. Stomach still feels a little nauseous if I’m being honest...”

“I-I’m sorry… to h-hear that” Salvatore says, though Karl is quick to brush him off.

“Eh, don’t worry about it. I’m a big boy and I can handle myself. But do we have a deal? Keep each other in the loop whenever we hear anything… strange or abnormal about Mother Miranda or her special little mission?”

Salvatore pauses for a moment, thinking one last time about whether this was a good idea, before finally shrugging his shoulders and nodding. “Y-yes, we h-have a deal… b-but just remember something, Karl… 40 years d-didnt do… nearly as m-much for your p-poker face as i-it did for your s-smart mouth. If I c-catch you lying to m-me-”

“Ya, ya, ya, you’ll chop up my body and toss my remains in the lake to feed the fishes, I’ve heard that one a million times before” Karl interrupts. “Don’t worry, Sal, if I was planning on lying to you at any point throughout this process, you’d have already caught me by now. Even I know better than to try pulling a fast one over the walking fuckin’ lie detector.”

“I’m h-holding you to th-that, Karl” Salvatore calls over his shoulder as the younger man stands and begins heading toward the gate to return to his factory, chuckling lightly when Karl returns his warning with a middle finger.

“Take it easy, old man. And let me know how that crazy fish bitch you ended up with turns out. If all else fails I’ll turn her into a nice stuffed pillow for you” the bespeckled man says, throwing his head back in laughter as though he’d told a funny joke, before adding, “And I’d better get my sunglasses back within the week, or else I’m draining the whole fucking reservoir so I can find them myself. Don’t think I won’t do it, old man.”

Salvatore merely returns the middle finger, a response that Karl seems to appreciate, if the wolfish howl of laughter the younger man let's out says anything, at least.

‘Cheeky brat. Always plotting something’ Salvatore thinks fondly to himself as he slips back into the water to continue cleaning the reservoir, quickly grabbing the green sunglasses that had sunk to the bottom and pocketing them to return to Karl later. He pauses for a moment when a thought crosses his mind.

Within the past 24 hours, both Mother Miranda and Karl had been… unusually kind and affectionate toward Salvatore, which pleased but also confused the twisted man.

Karl was easy enough to explain away, the younger man has been flip flopping between periods where he likes and spends time with Salvatore, and periods where he’d sooner set himself on fire than be in the same room as his older brother, since the day they met, so as far as Salvatore was concerned, Karl’s behavior was hardly breaking news, though perhaps a bit surprising given everything going on with Mother’s gifts. Mother Miranda, however, was a different story.

Usually more distant and hands-off in her parenting ways, Miranda had been uncharacteristically affectionate toward the disfigured man the night before, going as far as to openly praise Salvatore for all his hard work and even hold him without being asked to. It had been such a wonderful experience at the time and yet, the more Salvatore thought about it, the stranger and stranger the behavior seemed, especially now that Karl had confronted him.

Speaking of Karl… Mother seemed quite upset with him when she spoke of him the night before. Going as far as to badmouth him specifically, calling him a ‘conniving little snake’, despite the younger man usually being her favorite by a country mile. Had Karl done something to incur Mother’s wrath? Is that why Karl came all the way over here to make that deal with him? Is he trying to rally the 4 lords to rebel against Mother Miranda?

No... No, no no no, that couldn’t be true, there’s no way.

Even Karl, for all his incredible intellect and hunger for power, was too afraid of Mother Miranda to ever try anything as drastic as that. That being said however, even though Salvatore doubted that Karl would ever try to rebel against Mother Miranda, it did seem like the younger man was trying very hard to get Salvatore onto his side for some reason. In fact, both Karl AND Mother Miranda appeared to be trying to sway the eldest Lord in their favor, though for what reason, he still had no idea.

It was definitely something that made Salvatore slightly wary of the both of them, though.

There’s nothing in this world that Salvatore hates more than doubting his beloved Mother, but even he couldn’t write this oddity of a situation off as a mere one-off incident or sudden change of Miranda’s tune. Mother has been acting very strangely recently, doing things she wouldn’t normally do and acting overly affectionate as if to try and throw everyone off her tracks, and the longer Salvatore thought about it, the more he couldn’t help but wonder, as painful as it was to admit, if maybe Karl was actually onto something.

Logically, he knows that Karl is just being Karl, looking to stir up some trouble for his own, and supposedly Salvatore’s, amusement, and that Mother Miranda is likely just trying to enjoy the time she has left with her children before she leaves on her mission. However, something in the back of Salvatore’s mind can’t help but wonder if maybe there’s more going on than he’s been led to believe by either of them. And as if this situation couldn’t get any more confusing for the deformed man, now his overly anxious and analytical mind was beginning to understand what Karl meant when he said there was something strange going on, no matter how much the rest of him practically screamed to just listen to Miranda like he always has.

Shaking his head of his scrambled thoughts and turning his focus back to his work, Salvatore decides that the best thing he can do right now is keep an ear to the ground on both Mother Miranda AND Karl, just to be fair. He still isn't sure if he plans on being 100% honest with Karl regarding their deal, but he supposes that maintaining a good relationship with the younger man wouldn’t hurt in the event he turned out to be right and Mother’s plan backfired on all of them.

Besides, if Karl did turn out to be right, and Salvatore was ready for if things took a bad turn, he could still be there to rescue Mother Miranda and ensure she’s brought to safety along with them. He’ll have successfully fulfilled his family duties to both Karl and Mother Miranda, without ever having to actually choose which side he was definitively on. A perfect plan if the mutant man says so himself. Now the only thing left to do between now and whenever things started getting interesting was work on the reservoir and wait for his gift to finally arrive, his mood regarding this whole situation greatly improved thanks to Karl’s visit.

Hopefully, if things went well, he’d have some exciting news to tell the younger man the next time they met up.

Maybe he’d even have a new friend to introduce.

44 notes · View notes

anxiousstark · 4 years ago

Text

S2 10 | Fury

BIG MASTERLIST | TW REWRITE

Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall

Word count: 2848

Warnings: Mentions of guns, degrading names, injuries, blood, murder, swearing (always).

↪ PLEASE RESPECT MY WORK. DON’T COPY, TRANSLATE OR CLAIM THEM AS YOURS. NOT ON THIS WEBSITE OR ANOTHER. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED.

"So this kid's the real killer?" Noah Stilisnki asked, his eyes moving from Scott and Stiles to me. We were in Stiles's bedroom, showing him a picture of Matt. We needed to end this, but Noah didn't seem convinced by what we were trying to explain.

"Yeah." Stiles rolled his eyes.

"No."

"Yes!"

"No."

"Dad, come on." He got up from his chair, standing in front of the man who had raised him. "Everybody knows that the police look for ways to connect victims in a murder, okay? So all he had to do is, like, look through their transcripts and figure out which class they all had in common."

"Yeah, except for the fact that the rave promoter Kara wasn't in Harris's class."

"All right, okay, you're right, sorry. Then I guess they dropped the charges against him?"

"No, you know what? They're not dropping the charges. But that doesn't prove anything." Stiles groaned, throwing his hands up.

"Scott, do you believe this?"

"It's really hard to explain how we know this, but you just gotta trust us. We know it's Matt." His calming voice reassured the Sheriff, but still, he seemed to have doubts. He glanced at me, and I nodded my head.

"Yeah, he took Harris's car, okay? Look, he knew that if a cop found tire tracks at one of the murders, and that if enough of the victims were in Harris's class, that they'd arrest him."

"All right, fine. I'll allow the remote possibility, but give me a motive." We looked at each other, sighing in relief. "I mean, why would this kid want most of the 2006 swim team and its coach dead?"

"Isn't it obvious?" We still didn't know why Matt was doing this, so no. "Our swim team sucks! They haven't won in, like, six years." He shouted before his voice lowered. "Okay, we don't have a motive yet. I mean, come on, does Harris?" Before Noah could answer back his son, I hit Stiles's arm. "Ouch, what was that for?" He rubbed the placed where I had hit him while glancing at me.

"I'm in the swim team, asshole." I pouted, but then I quickly connected another dot. "That's why he attacked me." Both boys looked at me confused, still trying to understand. "That could be another reason, guys. I'm in the swim team." However, there were other people in the swim team, so why didn't he attack them?

"Attacked you?" Mr. Stilisnki directed at me. He seemed mad. "Okay, what do you want me to do?"

We smiled, sighing in content. "We need to look at the evidence," Scott's voice sounded confident.

"Yeah, that would be in the station, where I no longer work."

"Trust me. They'll let you in."

Sheriff Stilisnki was perplexed due to his son's words. "Trust you?" His fingers pointed at him.

"T-trust Scott?" Sheriff still wasn't convinced. "Trust...Y/N?"

"Y/N I trust." I grinned, feeling better than the other two boys, which made both of them push me a little. Tsk, is that jealousy I smell?

"It's 2:00 in the morning." The Deputy behind the counter gave us a judging look. Sheriff Stilisnki took the three of us to the station in hopes of finding more information, which seemed complicated as he no longer worked there.

"Believe me, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't extremely important."

"We look at the hospital stuff first, okay?" The hazel-eyed boy whispered to Scott and me. "Because all the murders were committed by Jackson, except for one, you remember?" We nodded. The pregnant girl, Jessica.

"Yeah. Since Matt had to kill her himself, somebody from the hospital could've seen him."

The Deputy made a gesture with her head. "Thank you. Boys. Y/N." We entered the office, watching the recording from the cameras of the hospital. "I don't know, guys. I mean, look at this. There was a six-car pileup that night, the hospital was jammed."

"All right, just keep going. Look, he had to have passed one of the cameras on that floor to get to Jessica, okay? He's gotta be on the footage somewhere."

"Oh, hold on, stop! Did you see that? Scroll back." I hurriedly pointed to the camera.

"That's him! That's Matt!"

"All I see is the back of someone's head." Mr. Stilisnki glanced at us over his shoulder.

"Matt's head, yeah. I sit behind him in history. He's got a very distinct cranium, it's weird." A disgusting expression decorated his face. But it couldn't surpass Noah's face, realizing how weird his son was. "All right, fine, then look at his jacket, huh? How many people do you know who wear black leather jackets?"

"Millions, literally."

"Okay, can we scroll forward? There's gotta be a shot of him coming at one of the cameras."

"Right there! Stop, stop! See, there he is again."

"You mean there's the back of his head again."

"Okay, but look. He's talking to someone."

"He's talking to my mom." He took his phone out, calling Melissa who was working. After sending her a picture of Matt, she affirmed recognizing him. She had stopped him because he was tracking mud in the hall.

Noah rapidly grabbed some files. "We've got shoe prints alongside the tire tracks at the trailer site."

"And if they match, that puts Matt at the scene of three murders. The trailer, the hospital, and the rave." Stiles added.

"Actually, four. A credit card receipt for an oil change was signed by Matt at the garage where the mechanic was killed."

"When?"

"A couple hours before you got there."

"All right, dad, if one's an incident, two's a coincidence, and three's a pattern, what's four?"

"Four's enough for a warrant." We sighed in relief. "Scott, call your mom back, see how quick she can get here. If I can get an official ID, I can get a search warrant. Y/N, go to the front desk. Tell them to let Scott's mom in when she gets here."

"On it!" I quickly hurried. When I arrived at the front desk, there was nobody. "Hello?" I glance down. The Deputy was lying on the floor, wide eyes, blood covering all of her chest. Then, I noticed that her gun was missing. I heard a click, turning around. Matt was there, the gun pointing to the space between my eyes.

He turned my body around, now pointing the gun to the back of my head. "Walk." We both started walking towards Noah's office.

Stiles was the first one to notice me, his eyes shaking. He was going to take a step forward when his father stopped him. "Matt?" Noah showed him his empty unarmed hands. "It's Matt, right? Matt, whatever's going on, I guarantee you there's a solution that doesn't involve a gun."

"You know, it's funny you say that because I don't think you're aware of just how right you are." The barrel of the gun was pressed tighter against my head as he talked.

"I know you don't wanna hurt people."

"Actually, I wanna hurt a lot of people. You three weren't on my list," The gun he was holding hit the back of my scalp, making me hiss. "She was, Y/N McCall. If it wasn't for her, everything would have gone perfectly. But she HAD to be there, at the video store, fucking everything up." He sighed, pushing me forward. Stiles grabbed me, checking my face quickly, touching the back of my head to make sure that I didn't have any wound. "But I could be persuaded. And one way is to try dialling somebody on your cell phone like McCall is doing. T-that could definitely get someone hurt. Everyone. Now!"

Matt made Stiles handcuff his father, then he took us with him. On the corridor, three officers were on the ground, lifeless. "What, are you gonna kill everyone in here?" Scott asked.

"No, that's what Jackson's for. I just think about killing them, and he does it." He smirked.

Now, we were destroying all the files that conducted to him being a murderer. "Deleted. And we're done. All right, so, Matt, since all the people you brutally murdered deserved it because they killed you first, whatever that means, I think we're good here, right? So I'll just get my dad, and we'll go, you know? You continue on the whole vengeance thing. Enjoy the Kanima."

We saw a light, followed by the sound of a car. "Sounds like your mom's here, McCall."

"Matt, don't do this. When she comes to the door, I'll just tell her to leave. I'll tell her we didn't find anything. Please, Matt."

"If you don't move now. I'm gonna kill Stiles first, and then your mom. And then," He smirked. "I'm going to kill her. Because thanks to Y/N the Kanima isn't as strong as it could be. That night, if Jackson would have been the only one getting scratched, all of this wouldn't have happened. You guys would probably be dead." His rage was directed towards me. "But this bitch had to go inside the video store, and fuck everything up."

"And I will fuck everything up again if you touch anyo-" Stiles gripped my arm, begging me to calm down.

To our surprise, it wasn't Melissa. It was Derek. But he was paralyzed as soon as he came inside, falling to the floor, and letting us see Jackson behind him. "This is the one controlling him? This kid?" I tried not to chuckle.

"Well, Derek, not everyone's lucky enough to be a big, bad werewolf. Oh, yeah, that's right. I've learned a few things lately. Werewolves, hunters, kanimas. It's like a fucking Halloween party every full moon. Except for you, Stiles. What do you turn into?"

"Abominable snowman," I whispered his name, trying to let him know that it wasn't the time to be sarcastic. "But, uh, it's more of, like, a wintertime thing, you know, seasonal."

Matt didn't like Stiles's comment. Jackson scratched his neck, paralyzing him. His body fell on top of Derek. "You bitch."

"Get him off of me."

"Oh, I don't know, Derek. I think you two make a pretty good pair. It must kinda suck, though, to have all that power taken away from you with just a little cut to the back of the neck. I bet you're not used to feeling this helpless."

"Still got some teeth. Why don't you get down here a little closer, huh? We'll see how helpless I am."

Again, we heard a car. This time, it was Melissa. Scott went out with Matt, the next thing we knew, we heard a gunshot. I stayed on the floor, next to Stiles and Derek. Jackson's eyes fixed on me, smirking. I wanted to hit him. I wanted to end all of this.

A couple of minutes later, Matt came back to the room. My eyes focused on Scott, seeing the blood on his shirt. I walked up to him, examining his face for any type of signal that would let me know that he was healing. He just side-hugged me, keeping me away from his injury. "Is Melissa okay?" I whispered.

He nodded, glaring at Matt. "The evidence is gone. Why don't you just go?"

"Y-you think the evidence mattered that much, huh? No, no, I-I want the book." We both were confused. Matt groaned, getting madder. "The bestiary. Not just a few pages, I want the entire thing."

"I don't have it. It's Gerard's. What do you want it for, anyway?"

"I need answers." He used the back of his mouth to clean the visible sweat around his mouth.

"Answers to what?"

"To this." He lifted his shirt. His right side was the same colour as the Kanima, scales all over it, and it seemed to palpitate. It looked like that thing had its own life. "I'm tired of this," He grabbed Scott's shirt roughly. "Come with me. Jackson, keep an eye on those two," His glare went to me. "And her."

I sat down again, next to both boys while Jackson kept guard of the room so nobody would go inside or outside.

"Hey. You know what's happening to Matt?" Stiles whispered.

"I know the book's not gonna help him. You can't just break the rules, not like this."

"What do you mean?" I asked, keeping my eyes on Jackson.

"Universe balances things out. Always does." He panted. "He is using Jackson to kill people, and killing people himself." I stared at Derek, waiting for him to continue. "Balance."

"Wait," Stiles intervened. "So he becomes the Kanima? Derek nodded. We needed to stop him. We needed to tell him. I glance around the room, seeing my backpack on the floor. "Oh no," I heard Stilinski muttering. "What are you thinking of, McCall?" He tried to move his head to glance at me. "Don't do anything stupid, please. You are the one who told me that when I confronted Peter Hale."

"Did you listen to me, Stiles?" I asked in a hushed voice, crawling to my bag, rummaging through it until I grabbed the object that I was searching for. Pepper spray.

He groaned. "No, I didn't." I slowly got up from the ground, without making any sound. "You aren't going to listen, right?"

"Hey, Jackson," His head snapped to me, eyes shining. "Beautiful eyes." I rapidly used pepper spray. Jackson groaned, kneeling on the ground, and aggressively rubbing his eyes. I threw the spray back to the boys. "He will come to get me. I need to help Scott. Use the spray if you need it!" And even though Derek Hale told me not to do anything absurd, I continued running.

However, the power in the entire station turned off. "Fuck," I muttered. The sound of guns being shot scared the shit out of me, but I had to find Scott. I crawled on the floor, hands covering my head as the windows were being broken by the bullets. Then, when the shots seemed to stop, I got up and ran.

"Shit," My heart almost came out of my chest when I saw Allison. I felt fear because something bad could happen to her, then I felt relieved because we were worried about her as we hadn't seen her at the end of the party. And again, I felt terrified when I saw her face. A numb expression decorating her features while she had a hard grip on her crossbow. "What are you doing here?"

"Where's Derek? She avoided my question, answering with her own. "Where's Derek?!" Her eyes were teary.

"An answer for an answer," I replied. "What the heck are you doing here? You need to get the hell out of here." I looked around, deciding to whisper. "Allison, this is dangerous."

"I'm going to kill Derek Hale because he killed my mom." She spat. "And I will kill anyone who gets on my way."

"Bitch," I mumbled. "Derek Hale saved our asses a million times. Yeah, he probably isn't the best at communication, but when I say our asses, I also mean yours." I scowled. "Your mom," I smirked. "A huge bitch she is. Well, she was." Allison threw a punch at me, but I surprisingly dodged it, something you would only expect in films or books. "She deserves all that she got. She went to the hospital to get information from Mellisa." She glanced at the ground while I continued. "She deserved all that she got. Do you know why? Because she tried to kill Scott." She was in denial, but she knew because her family was deranged. "She tried to kill your boyfriend, Allison. She tried to kill my brother." I firmly stated.

"Shut up!" Next thing I knew, there was an arrow piercing my stomach. The arrow was exactly in the middle. I stared at it, and the blood coming out, although no words were coming out of my mouth as I stared at her. "Oh my, I-I didn't mean to-" I fell to the ground, thankfully on my back so the arrow wouldn't get more stuck in my abdomen. Allison was also interrupted when the Kanima appeared, paralyzing her. Then, it was Matt's turn to make an appearance.

"You should've given me a chance. Because remember how I said I'm not the kind of guy who would say something like: 'well if I can't have her, no one can.' It's not totally true because, Allison, if I can't have you, no one can!" He screamed. "Thank you for finding this slut," He kneeled next to me, brushing my hair. "Pepper spray, uh?"

"If I could," I gasped for air. "I would fucking k-kill you right now."

"Yeah," He laughed hysterically. "But I think you are dying first. Should we show momma McCall, Scott, and Stiles how stunningly beautiful you look as the blood leaves your body?" This dude was sick, utterly sick. "Yeah, let's show them." The hand that was caressing my hair clutched it forcefully, dragging me by my hair through all the rooms in the station. I lost consciousness.

TAGLIST: @og-baby-ob14 - @savemypostcards - @cas-loves-pizza - @used-avocado - @mvrylee - @bilesxbilinskixlahey - @honeydoll-stark - @arieltheworldisamess - @softpeteparker - @kit-kat-katie99 - @thatsuperherosidekick - @bexbetterxthanxwords - @big-galaxy-chaos - @littlemiss-forgotten - @enchantedcruelsummer - @coldfreakeggsexpert - @merla123 - @sammypotato67 - @weirdowithnobeardo - @maggiesblogsblog - @itskindyl - @bobo-bush - @moongoddesskiana - @multifandxm353 - @irwxnhugsx - @xoprincessmel - @iclosetgeek - @andreagf956 - @niawoods - @anerroroccurrrrred - @perrytheplatypus11 - @trustfundparker - @nmriia - @steve-harringtonnn - @trustfundparker - @brithedemonspawn - @weirdowithnobeardo - @my-soul-is-the-moon - @azayamari - @poguestyle17 - @bibliophilewednesday -

People in bold means it doesn’t let me tag them.

268 notes · View notes

themorp · 4 years ago

Text

Writing Prompts

A lot of these are Au related! And some of them hint at violence/gore, so please be aware of that.

“Don’t move. They rely on sight.”

“I knew it was you!”

“Please tell me that’s not my soulmate.”

“Did you seriously get yourself stuck in a chair?”

“I am so sorry that the words on your arm are so stupid.”

“Prepare for canon fire!”

“Look out!”

“That’s gross... Cool! But still gross.”

“That was my kill!”

“Are you from the Northern Empire?”

“Well I’m not sure weather to be offended or relieved- my wanted posture looks nothing like me.”

“That is NOT how you hold (weapon).”

“Well... this is awkward...”

“Can I kick his ass?”

“HOW ARE THEY SO HOT??? HOW DARE THEY!!!”

“Be quiet! They’ll hear you!”

“Did you steal from that couple?”

“That thing has a curse on it. I’d be careful.”

“I didn’t realize it was a shrinking potion, I swear!”

“I knew (mythical creature/cryptid) were real!”

“Can you get me out of this thing?”

“I have never met you, but I know someone who needs help when I see one.”

“I left you guys alone for FIVE MINUTES!!!”

“That looks painful.”

“Yikes... Glad that’s not me.”

“We’re gonna have to cut it off before it spreads to other parts of their body.”

“And where, exactly, have you been?”

“HOW DID YOU PISS OFF ALL THE GUARDSMEN?!”

“I said distract them, not knock them out!”

“For the last time!!! That is not edible!”

“That man is crazy.”

“They’re going to burn them at the stake!”

“Well, that wasn’t what I was expecting.”

“You’re rescuing me?”

“I never knew the outside world so... big.”

“Put the fire out before we’re noticed!”

“This rescue mission is gonna kick my ass.”

“I... I think they’re still alive...”

“Are you sure they aren’t infected?”

“That’s a brutal looking scar.”

“How did you manage to pull that off?”

“Put down the (weapon)... I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Well that isn’t normal.”

“What are you?!”

“Dragon bonding isn’t for everyone.”

“Who the hell thought this was a good idea.”

“I am no longer giving a fuck.”

“I want to give up, but I have someone worth pushing onwards for.”

“This storm came out of nowhere!”

“That was dangerous and reckless! But... it was impressive...”

“Who the hell is stupid enough to do that?”

“Can you see anything?”

“Is that what I think it is?”

“I haven’t had meat in years.”

“Was that a gunshot?”

“Can we keep it?”

“Well. This is unexpected.”

“Why are you covered in mud?”

“I have never been held like this...”

“Don’t touch me! You stink! What the hell was in that swamp?!”

“What is... kissing?”

“That’s disgusting. Don’t stop.”

“Aww... what a cute dog...! Wait... THAT IS NOT A DOG ABORT ABORT ABORT-”

“Can I have a hug?”

“How do you live like this?!”

“You’ve never been in a real battle, have you?”

“The Chief will decide your fate.”

“You know I was expecting you to be bigger.”

“Barricade the doors!”

“This is a strange ritual.”

“I don’t think this is a regular maze...”

“Is that blood?”

“There’s a hole in the floor.”

“What the hell was that? Did you hear that?”

“Zombies aren’t supposed to be smart!”

“Is that a ship?”

“Get the hell out of my way.”

“Did you just (physical attack such as punch or kick) me?!’

“They’re weakened by silver.”

“I really wish I had my holy water right now.”

“Well that backfired.”

“I’m so hungry... Can I feed off you a little?”

“YOU DARE OPPOSE ME?”

“Please help me, this man has been following me and I don’t want him to know where I live.”

“Is that really you?!”

“Has it really been three centuries?”

“Are you sure you’re human?”

“That was an alien- That was an alien- THAT WAS AN ALIEN-”

“We SHOULD NOT SPLIT UP!!”

Is it just me or is the floor moving?”

“How the hell did someone get in here?”

“Well, this is awkward... Can I have my payment now?”

“Since when were you so smart?”

“They’re right above us.”

“It’s almost like it can see into my soul.”

“BUGS DON’T GET THAT BIG HERE-”

“I hear growling...”

“DO NOT THROW THE BABY”

“Is that a threat or an offer?”

“I have so many pictures of them being an idiot.”

“The clock has less than hour left.”

“HAVE YOU EVER WATCHED A HORROR MOVIE?!?!”

“Was that you?”

“I think I’m going crazy.”

“We have to go- a scout discovered our shelter, the hive is coming.”

“It’s so damn hot.”

“I... I can’t remember...”

“Aww that’s so cute how much is i-... nevermind.”

“Did you just eat an alien egg?”

“You do realize they’re siblings right?”

“How are you so cute?”

“I am in debt to you, and until that debt is paid I will be you loyal servant.”

“Are you... Are you riding a dragon?”

“You’re under arrest.”

“Here, drink this.”

“Potion making is sensitive, so please be quiet whilst I work.”

“Has thee never seen a Vampire?”

“That was not rad at all.”

“I think it’s dead.”

“You go first.”

“You treat me as if I’m not a litterall demon from hell.”

“I will protect until my dying breath.”

“Don’t worry, you’re safe now.”

“It’s an honor to meet you.”

“You’re not from around here, re you?”

“What? Never seen a hybrid before?”

“That is not how you use that.”

“Did you know different flowers have different meanings...? The ones I gave you are quite unique in meaning.”

“Your family is... interesting...”

“If you’re not gonna eat grubs then you’re gonna starve. It’s all that’s out here.”

“That’s not human.”

“Stop standing there staring and help me!”

“I’m too short...”

“Was that an insult?”

“Keep up!”

“Don’t look behind you.”

“You have to jump! You have to trust me!”

“Is this it?”

“I can’t believe my soulmate is a human-”

“Well that was weird.”

“Have you ever exercised?”

“Don’t test my patience, pet.”

“How am I going to tell [Name] about this...?”

“It’s a match made in heaven!”

“Be careful, they’re sensitive!”

“So this is a fruit...”

“When I feel bad I go beat the shit out of someone. It works.”

“DID YOU PULL THE LEVER I SPECIFICALLY ASKED YOU NOT TO PULL?!”

“In DnD we call that rolling a one.”

“[Name] is gonna kill me!”

“Rest in pieces.”

“Hurt them and I make your life hell on Earth.”

“So he’s a dumbass-”

“Someone shoot me-”

“Give it back! That’s private!”

“It was so obvious! I’m such an idiot!”

“Is that all you have?”

“The expedition was successful.”

“There were no survivors.”

“I thought I lost you.”

“Stop! Stop! There’s a cat!”

“Why am I here again?”

“Having detachable body parts is actually a convenience when you’re a cyborg.”

That’s a big ass [Animal]”

“Do you know what you’re doing?!”

“Did you seriously have to pick the lock? When I have the keys?”

“They’re dangerous.”

“And that’s my que to leave.”

“You are my greatest treasure.”

“I seriously hope you’re not thinking of doing what I think you are thinking of doing.”

“WHY THE HELL ARE YOU NAKED?”

“Is... is that a dwarf?”

“You’re as odd as your friends said.”

“There is no need for violence!”

“All I wanted was a doughnut-”

“Why are the barn lights on?”

“They got into ANOTHER fight?!”

“You’d think living with a family of sorcerers would teach them something.”

“Thank goodness most dragons aren’t venomous.”

“Nagas are quite fickle creatures.”

“Satyrs are not to be trusted.”

“You walked into the faery ring, you belong to the fae now. I can’y help you.”

“Go ask them out! They look cute!”

“Angels aren’t supposed to fall in love... but how was I supposed resist you?”

“I thought humans were bigger.”

“Your highness is a royal pain in the ass.”

“That hurt.”

“I am not looking forward to this at all.”

“I do not like caves. I don’t like cavbes at all.”

“MOSS!!!!”

“This town seems abandoned.”

“The radiation levels aren’t too high here.”

“Put your masks on.”

“You know you shouldn’t give your name to strangers, especially a fae in the forest.”

“I never realized how big the ocean was.”

“I have an idea- it’s dangerous, crazy, and reckless, but it might just work.”

“Is this your child?”

“I’m surprised Cerberus likes you.”

“Hellhounds aren’t usually friendly.”

“That’s a big meal for one person...”

“Werewolves aren’t fans of silver.”

“The dumbest myth about us vampires is that we hate garlic.”

“What brings you to my territory, little human?”

“Don’t bare your fangs at guests! It’s rude!”

“I’m only protecting you because I made a promise.”

“That was a terrible attempt at a prank. Let me show you how it’s done.”

“You do realize demons can sense emotions right?”

“You foolish human! You could have gotten hurt!”

“Watch your step.”

“It’s called a secret entrance for a reason.”

“Did you just... kiss me...?”

“My soulmate is a dumbass but I love them.”

“This jackassery will not stand!”

“Unless you have a death wish I’d leave those sirens alone.”

“Swim with me?”

“Have you never frolicked before?”

“You’re fired!”

“Does this armor make me look fat?”

“Your soulmate is a Naga?”

“Gargoyles are cranky in the morning.”

“That little fucker is at it again-”

“I don’t remember the last time I laughed like that.”

“Elves are usually attractive... but them... they’re ethereal..”

“I think I’m in love with a snake man.”

“Are orcs usually this big?”

“Confess? And risk ruining what i have with them? I’d rather drink bog water that a Satyr bathed in!”

“Are all humans this attractive or is it just you?”

“Guns are so odd... They only do their job after they’re fired...”

“Are you usually this full of yourself?”

Do you have any idea what you just did?”

“I wasn’t expecting to meet my soulmate when I snuck into Area 51.”

“Turn off the lights!”

“I won’t let you go, not again.”

“That’s so dangerous...! When are we doing it?”

“You humans are so fragile, yet you are the apex species of your planet.”

“IT’S NOT WORTH IT! GET BACK IN THE CAR!”

“Don’t look back!”

“They’re attracted by (heat, sound, etc.).”

“It looks dangerous.”

“Don’t touch it-”

“Careful it’s soup.”

“Did... did that thing just speak?”

“It’s a boat! Oh my god it’s a boat- we’re saved-”

“Keep your distance.”

“I will not hesitate to leave you behind.”

“THEY’RE SIBLINGS?!”

‘I am slightly worried... never mind I am very worried.”

“THEY’RE CHOKING!”

“It’s too damn hot to do anything.”

“Stop singing!”

“Life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, kid.”

“That is one ugly ass [Animal/baby/clothing item].”

“I’VE SEEN THIS IN A HENTAI BEFORE!”

“Please shut your trap before I stuff it- shit that sounds sexual-”

“Is that- Is that a fucking cat?”

“That is not what the mean when they say; ‘smash that like button’“

“Where did you learn to drive?”

“Oof.”

“I’m know I’m stupid but I’m not THAT stupid.”

#prompts #writing prompts #Aus #AU writing prompts #wayv fluff #roman angst #crack #slow burn #adventure

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twoidiotwriters1 · 5 years ago

Text

Written In The Stars XXV (Harry Potter xFem!Oc)

A/N: So this was a really fun and cute chapter, I remember that, enjoy!

Words: 3,999

Warnings: None except my absolute lack of proofreading

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Chapter Seven: Mrs. Weasley’s Howler.

Hermione had taken the whole incident as a personal offense, at this point, Mel was used to it.

She decided to escape by getting up later than Hermione and have breakfast with the boys. When they got to the Great Hall, Hermione barely looked up from her book, not even saying hi.

The mail arrived as usual, and poor Errol dropped on top of Hermione's plate.

He had been carrying a red envelope.

"Oh, no."

"It's all right, he's still alive"

"It's not that - it's that."

Ron was pointing at a red paper.

"What's the matter?" asked Harry.

"She's - she's sent me a Howler," said Ron with fear.

"What's that?" Mel tried to reach for the letter, but Ron pushed her away.

"Don't!"

"You'd better open it, Ron," said Neville. "It'll be worse if you don't My gran sent me one once, and I ignored it and... it was horrible."

"What's a Howler?" Harry insisted.

"Open it," Neville urged. "It'll all be over in a few minutes -"

Ron reached for the letter and opened, Neville covered his ears and out of nowhere, Mrs. Weasley's voice came roaring from the paper:

"STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE —"

Mel was looking at it with her mouth wide open in horror, unable to make it stop, she had to witness as Ron slowly sunk further and further on his chair, deeply embarrassed.

"- LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU, MEL AND HARRY COULD HAVE DIED -"

"Oh my god..." Mel covered her face in utter shame and sunk next to her friend, and this wasn't even her mother's reaction! It was silly, but she'd forgotten that her mother had been notified. She wasn't scared about it... until now.

"-ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED - YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME."

Without adding nothing else, the envelope burst into flames and turned into a puddle of ashes.

A second owl flew across the table and dropped a letter -a normal looking one- on Mel's head.

"Thank Merlin," She whispered, safely putting it away in her pocket.

A few students laughed and then that was it, they returned to their normal activities.

Hermione closed her book, ready to add her opinion on the matter.

"Well, I don't know what you expected, Ron, but you -"

"Don't tell me I deserved it," Ron snapped.

"What did Emily send you, Mel?" Harry asked, still looking pale.

"I won't open it here," She grimaced, "I'll do it later tonight"

"You're lucky it wasn't a howler," Ron grumbled, "Mum could've been less dramatic, you know?"

Before Hermione could argue against him, Professor McGonagall passed, handing out schedules. They had Herbology with the Hufflepuffs that morning.

They left the Hall towards the greenhouses, Hermione was in a much brighter mood now.

The rest of the class was standing outside, waiting for Professor Sprout. They were getting closer when Mel felt a single tug on her sleeve and looked up, finding a familiar set of hazel eyes.

"E-" She was soon cut off by the boy, who just handed her a carefully folded piece of paper.

Erick left without adding a word to it, not even looking back. Mel stood in confusion for a few seconds until she heard Sprout's voice.

She was accompanied by Gilderoy Lockhart. Professor Sprout's arms were full of bandages, and as Harry poked her shoulder and pointed to their left, she noticed the Whomping Willow in the distance, several of its branches now in slings.

"Well, that's a bit ridiculous," She frowned, thinking about the ugly bruise that covered most part of her ribs, "it's a tree, can't be that injured can it?"

"You don't know that," Hermione replied.

"Oh, hello there!" Professor Lockhart called, "Just been showing Professor Sprout the right way to doctor a Whomping Willow! But I don't want you running away with the idea that I'm better at Herbology than she is! I just happen to have met several of these exotic plants on my travels..."

"Greenhouse three today, chaps!" said Professor Sprout.

"How kind of him, next thing he'll be teaching the giant squid how to swim," Mel whispered to Harry, making him laugh.

"Greenhouse three!" Exclaimed Hermione excitedly, "We've never been there before!"

As they approached the greenhouse, Lockhart's hand reached Harry's shoulder and stopped him.

"Harry! I've been wanting a word - you don't mind if he's a couple of minutes late, do you, Professor Sprout?"

Mel looked anxiously between the teachers, hoping for Professor Sprout to say something, however, Lockhart was faster.

"That's the ticket," He closed the door on their faces.

"That..." Professor Sprout clenched her fists, "Man. Miss Dumbledore go to your seat, what are you waiting for?"

Mel rushed to get a seat next to Ron. When he asked where Harry was, she shrugged.

"Lockhart wanted to speak with him, dunno why"

After a few minutes, Harry walked in with a puzzled expression as he approached their bench.

"We'll be repotting Mandrakes today. Now, who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?"

Mel and Hermione's hands shot up. They shared a look and Mel lowered her hand, encouraging her friend to speak.

"Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative," said Hermione, sending a small smile her way, "It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state."

"Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor," said Professor Sprout, "The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?"

Both girls raised their hand again, this time, it was Hermione who lowered hers.

"The cry of the Mandrake," Mel said a little shyly, "it's lethal. Though is less damaging when they're not fully grown"

"Precisely. Take another ten points," said Professor Sprout, "Now, the Mandrakes we have here are still very young."

She pointed to the little plants on the table.

"Everyone take a pair of earmuffs," said Professor Sprout. "When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are completely covered. When it is safe to remove them, I will give you the thumbs-up. Right - earmuffs on."

They put on the earmuffs and Professor Sprout pulled out one of the plants from its place.

Mel reconsidered her stance on plants not being able to feel, cause that plant in front of her looked very much alive.

She thought of them as baby Nymphs, it looked like it: green leaves for hair and muddy skin. Although they were uglier than the Nymphs on her books.

Professor Sprout took a pot from under the table and set the Mandrake into it, burying it in compost up to its leaves. Then she gave them the thumbs-up and removed her own earmuffs.

"As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill yet, however, they will knock you out for several hours, and as I'm sure none of you want to miss your first day back, make sure your earmuffs are securely in place while you work. I will attract your attention when it is time to pack up. Four to a tray - there is a large supply of pots here - compost in the sacks over there - and be careful of the Venemous Tentacula, it's teething."

They inched closer, Mel accidentally hit a boy as she moved to get a pot and apologized promptly, he smiled and shrugged it off, he also took that moment to introduce himself.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley," he shook their hands, "Know who you are, of course, the famous Harry Potter... And you're Hermione Granger - always top in everything, Mel Dumbledore- people talk a lot about you too, mostly about how often you try to start fights-"

"I do not," She blushed.

"-and Ron Weasley. Wasn't that your flying car?"

Ron's pride was still hurt by that Howler, so he didn't say anything.

"That Lockhart's something, isn't he?" said Justin, now that they were starting to work, "Awfully brave chap. Have you read his books? I'd have died of fear if I'd been cornered in a telephone booth by a werewolf, but he stayed cool and - zap - just fantastic."

"He's something alright," Mel mumbled distractedly.

"My name was down for Eton, you know. I can't tell you how glad I am I came here instead. Of course, Mother was slightly disappointed, but since I made her read Lockhart's books I think she's begun to see how useful it'll be to have a fully trained wizard in the family..."

"Ah!" Mel complained as she accidentally bumped against Hermione when walking out of the bathroom, "My ribs hurt, I should go to Pomfrey for a quick check..."

"You haven't gone?" Hermione said worryingly.

They finished their Herbology class covered in mud and sweat, so most fo the students went to wash their faces and hands before their transfiguration lesson.

"I didn't have time this morning cause I woke up late, and after I just didn't see the point on going. I mean, I can move-"

"But it hurts," Hermione frowned, "if it hurts is not good"

"I'll go before the day ends, I promise..."

They entered the class and sat behind Harry and Ron.

As usual, Mel and Hermione were the only ones able to turn their beetles into buttons. Mel would've been happy if it wasn't because Ron's awful fights with his own wand kept distracting her the whole time.

"Stupid - useless - thing -" Ron said angrily.

"If I were you, I wouldn't be doing that," Mel said as she stood up, hanging her bag on one shoulder, "unless you want to blow up the desk"

"Write home for another one," Harry suggested.

The wand let out another cloud of grey, stinky smoke.

"Oh, yeah, and get another Howler back," Ron scoffed, "-'It's your own fault your wand got snapped - '"

When they sat on the Gryffindor table, Hermione tried to show them the buttons she had managed to do, but seeing Ron's awful mood, Mel shook her head behind his back and signaled her to put them away.

"What've we got this afternoon?" said Harry.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione at once.

Mel peered over Hermione's shoulder, when she caught sight of something Hermione had written on it, she almost choked on her pumpkin juice.

"Why," Ron grabbed the paper, brows knit together, "have you outlined all Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?"

Hermione tried to take the schedule away but Mel was faster.

"My, my..." Mel said with her voice shaking, trying not to laugh, "crushing are we, 'Mione?"

"Leave it!" She complained, finally getting a hold of the paper and putting it back on her bag, "it's nothing-"

"It's alright, I guess he's handsome," Mel grinned, "surprises me that the brilliant Hermione Granger would fall for someone who is clearly all looks and zero brains"

Harry had told her about his little chat with Lockhart, for her, it was clear that Lockhart had no idea of what was he doing in that school.

"He's really clever, you know," Hermione defended, "all his books-"

"Yes, those books," Mel snorted, "you know, stupid doesn't equal lack of imagination"

Hermione refused to speak to her for the rest of the lunch hour.

Erick Flint walked into the Great Hall along with his group of friends and Mel suddenly remembered she hadn't read the note he'd given her.

She searched for it in her bag and pulled it out, now slightly wrinkled and messier than when he first delivered it. The girl looked at her friends and, making sure no one was watching her, she unfolded it.

'Morning, Miss

The first day and you're already making a fuss, can't Gryffindors help being so loud all the time? It was a pretty stupid thing to do, but at least you're not dead...

This year I'll be going to Hogsmeade for the first time ever -it's the town closest to the school- and I wanted to be a "good friend" and ask you if you'd like me to bring you anything, it'd be my treat, as a late birthday gift for you.

I believe that our first trip is until October, but I'll let you know. You have plenty of time to send your response.

Have a nice day,

Erick F.'

Mel looked up from the note and searched for her friend. She found him already looking back, he had an icy neutral expression, but she could've sworn she saw the smallest smile as he looked away.

"What's that?" Ron asked curiously, pointing to the paper on her hand.

"Nothing," She lied, "it's just a silly note that Fred and George snuck in my bag"

"Why?" He frowned.

"I don't know. Your brothers are crazy," She rolled her eyes, putting the paper away.

"You're not in love with them, are you?" Ron asked.

Mel choked on her drink again.

"What!? "

"It's just- it would be weird," He shrugged, "to have you as my friend but also see you date one of them..."

"Ron!" She stammered, feeling her cheeks burn, "I'm not in love with any of your brothers!"

"I'm just making sure!" He exclaimed, ears just as red as her face, "You can't blame me, you're always with them so I'd to ask. Harry thinks the same, don't you Harry?"

He was quiet, his eyes fixed on his plate. But when Ron asked, he also almost choked on his food.

"I-I..." Harry stuttered, "I mean... Fred and George always tease her. It doesn't mean they trying something-"

"Thank you!" Mel exclaimed, looking at Ron as if Harry had just proven her point.

"What's going on with you?" Ron huffed, "Last year you were the one teasing her about it. Now you're saying it's not real?"

"It was just a joke," Harry frowned, "I don't actually believe it"

"I don't have a crush on your brothers, Ron," Mel assured him. Without knowing why, her eyes briefly looked at Harry when she added, "If I ever have feelings for someone, you'll be the first to know..."

Colin Creevey was a sweet boy, however, he also had terrible timing.

He was a lot like Neville: same anxious eyes, fidgeting as he held his camera tight against his chest, asking Harry for a signed picture.

"Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos, Potter?" Malfoy appeared followed by Crabbe and Goyle on each side, "Everyone line up! Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"

"No, I'm not," said Harry angrily, "Shut up, Malfoy."

"You're just jealous," said Colin.

Mel stood up quickly as she watched Crabbe and Goyle tried to approach the kid.

"Jealous? Of what? I don't want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself."

"Eat slugs, Malfoy," said Ron.

"Be careful, Weasley. You don't want to start any trouble or your Mommy'll have to come and take you away from school. 'If you put another toe out of line' - "

A knot of Slytherin fifth-years nearby laughed loudly at this.

"Weasley would like a signed photo, Potter," smirked Malfoy. "It'd be worth more than his family's whole house -"

"Look out!" Whispered Hermione behind them.

"What's all this, what's all this?" Gilderoy Lockhart had appeared. "Who's giving out signed photos?"

His eyes followed the children in front of him and landed on Harry.

"Shouldn't have asked! We meet again, Harry! Come on then, Mr. Creevey," said Lockhart, beaming at Colin. "A double portrait, can't do better than that, and we'll both sign it for you"

"I don't think that's a good idea, Sir," Mel started, but Lockhart only laughed.

"Oh, it's all good, Miss. Would you like to join?"

Mel stepped back quickly as Colin took the picture, speechless.

"Off you go, move along there," Lockhart moved, taking Harry with him.

Mel rushed to walk behind them, hearing Lockhart's delusional advice.

"A word to the wise, Harry. I covered up for you back there with young Creevey -if he was photographing me, too, your schoolmates won't think you're setting yourself up so much..."

Harry was in such a state that he couldn't even form proper sentences when they reached the castle, the boy was still bright red.

"Let me just say that handing out signed pictures at this stage of your career isn't sensible -looks a tad bigheaded, Harry, to be frank. There may well come a time when, like me, you'll need to keep a stack handy wherever you go, but I don't think you're quite there yet."

He chuckled, patting Harry's shoulder and going to the front of the classroom.

The boy sat at the very end of the room, piling his books so that his face was completely covered, sinking even further on his chair.

"Cheer up, Glasses," Mel sat beside him, "Lockhart's a twat"

"You could've fried an egg on your face," said Ron as soon as he and Hermione joined in, "You'd better hope Creevey doesn't meet Ginny, or they'll be starting a Harry Potter fan club."

"Shut up," snapped Harry.

Lockhart cleared his throat and the class went silent, waiting for him.

"Me," he said, "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most- Charming-Smile Award - but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

"Yeah, we can tell you hate being the center of attention," Mel mumbled under her breath.

"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books -well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in -"

It was all nonsense.

'What is Gilderoy Lockhart 's favorite color?

What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?

What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?'

Mel even forgot what class she was supposed to be having, looking at the paper like it was a rather nasty-looking mandrake, she refused to answer the quiz and handed it back completely blank.

"Tut, tut - hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. I say so in Year with the Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully - I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples - though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogdeds Old Firewhisky!"

Mel, -arms crossed and fighting against the need to throw the man her copy of Wandering with Werewolves- held the edge of her robe, she held tight to it, counting the minutes so she could leave the room.

"...but Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions - good girl! In fact, full marks! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?"

Hermione raised a hand, she was shaking.

"Excellent!" beamed Lockhart. "Quite excellent! Take ten points for Gryffindor!"

He turned over to the next paper and his face fell.

"Now now, Miss Dumbledore?"

"Here," Mel said through greeted teeth, not bothering to raise her hand.

"You're so quiet I would never have guessed! " He let out a cheerful laugh, "Well no wonder why you're quiet... you're not exactly the brightest in your family tree, judging by this blank paper, are you? And not exactly photogenic... Either way, though I support your idea of remaining anonymous, I must ask you to put more effort in class"

"Not exactly-" Mel repeated in disbelief, unable to finish the sentence.

She saw Dean and Seamus, trying not to laugh a few desks in front of her.

"And so-" The man continued casually, "to business - Now be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."

He'd taken a large cage from under his desk and put a hand over the think fabric covering it.

"I must ask you not to scream. It might provoke them," He then dropped the fabric, revealing what was inside, "yes, freshly caught Cornish pixies."

Seamus Finnigan burst out laughing.

"Yes?"

"Well, they're not - they're not very - dangerous, are they?" Seamus grinned.

"Don't be so sure!" said Lockhart, "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be! Right, then, let's see what you make of them!" And he opened the cage.

Mel would count this as the worst class she'd ever had in Hogwarts.

The pixies went mad, they flew around making a mess and breaking things, lifting Neville to the ceiling and ripping the pages from any book they could reach.

"Come on now -round them up, round them up, they're only pixies," Lockhart shouted.

Lavender and Parvati lost it, they were screaming in panic, hidden under their table.

"Peskipiksi Pesternomi!" Lockhart's spell did nothing to help them, it only made the Pixies angrier, one of them snatched's Lockhart's wand and threw it out the window. The wisest decision anyone'd ever made on Lockhart.

"Stop!" Mel yelled, covering her face so the pixies wouldn't scratch her, she was holding her wand, trying to come up with a spell, "I said, STOP!"

Just like last year, a wave burst out of her, a wind of energy hit a group of pixies, freezing them in place.

The bell rang and everyone rushed to the exit.

"Well," Lockhart looked at them since they hadn't left the room, "I'll ask you four to just nip the rest of them back into their cage."

"Can you believe him?" roared Ron as one of the remaining pixies bit him painfully on the ear.

"He just wants to give us some hands-on experience," said Hermione, immobilizing two pixies at once with a clever Freezing Charm and stuffing them back into their cage.

"Hands on?" said Harry, who was trying to grab a pixie dancing out of reach with its tongue out. "Hermione, he didn't have a clue what he was doing -"

"Rubbish," said Hermione. "You've read his books - look at all those amazing things he's done -"

"He says he's done," Ron muttered.

"Rubbish!" Mel threw one of Lockhart's books to the ground, "What excuse do you have for that ridiculous quiz? It hardly had anything to do with Dark Arts!"

"It was to break the ice!"

"He called me dumb! And unattractive!" Mel insisted, pointing her wand to a pair of pixies and immobilizing them, "Not that I care whether if I'm pretty or not, but that's just so unprofessional, Mione! Only Snape would do such a stupid comment during class... Oh, I'll do better in class alright, I'll do so much better..."

"Well, you may be right on that," Hermione said thoughtfully, "He did sound a bit rude, but I bet he didn't mean it. I am sorry that you got a bad grade on the quiz, though."

"I don't care about that bloody quiz," Mel closed the cage's door with a loud clang, "I won't care about this class at all as long as he keeps giving it. He's completely useless. I refuse to come back"

Hermione's eyes widened.

"You don't really mean that, Mel-"

The girl walked up to their table and grabbed her bag, walking straight to the door.

"Watch me."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@tiphareth2018 @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @celestialhayi @mikariell95 @omiwashere @thesuitelifeofafangirl

#twoidiots writing #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x reader #ron weasley #hermione granger #draco malfoy #minerva mcgonagall #gilderoy lockhart #albus dumbledore #WITT fic

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lemonietrinket · 4 years ago

Text

Camping ||| NCT 127 & WayV x Reader

Turn Left

Genre: Fluff, adventure, interactive choose-your-own-story, some eerie content Warning(s): References to alcohol use but nothing severe/dangerous, some eerie content Word Count: 1593 Ambience: here

[START]

~~~

Taking a deep breath, you turned on you heel slowly until you were sure you were perpendicular to the way you had just faced, before beginning your journey through the storm.

Your feet melded with shallow puddles that were starting to grow amongst the grass blades and you hummed in disgust at how the mud that formed the cradle for them squelched between your toes. Rubbing your arms you wondered how everything had happened, and why you’d chosen to leave in the first place. You genuinely regretted it, feeling just how soaked your clothes were against your skin as the wind blustered it to stick to your body, as now you were left with the discomfort of possible hypothermia as well as the boiling dread of the trip and fall that could strike at any time. Just because you took each step slowly didn’t mean you were safe, and you knew full well that getting a face full of mud really cause you to snap.

While scraping your wrist at your face, positively frozen in the grips of the storm, a cry suddenly came over the gale. It wasn’t one of misery, nor pain, it was one more of... disdain. And as it came again, it became quickly apparent that there was only one person who could have made it. Doyoung.

As if on theatrical cue, a vast triangle pierced through the dark like a christmas tree found in town squares. You were forced to cover your eyes at just how bright it was, compared to what you had been swimming in prior. And soon, silhouettes were darting across the golden canvas—one shaped like a man, another like a hand that rose and fell from the base, and finally one like a pillow.

Now you could make out Doyoung much clearer, his whining high tone enough to override the grumbling sky, but it still swallowed his words before you could catch them. Regardless, you managed to decipher that the person bickering with him was Taeyong. The man’s shadow out of the blue sat up and shimmied across the tent walls, then took a lunge at the other clearly cowering in the corner. Drawing nearer, you finally spotted what illuminated the tent walls so bright—a lamp, one of the ones that had mysteriously gone missing once the tents had been set up.

You snickered at the display, fear slowly dissipating as you eventually came to the entrance. Finally, you patted the door awkwardly in the best knock you could.

You heard silence settle suddenly inside and you wondered for a few moments that they hadn’t heard you, their argument falling into a natural lull as Taeyong threatened to cry. The shadows dipped into an area that you couldn’t see clearly from where you were, leaving you in the dark in both respects of the phrase.

You were about to make your way back, not fancying how the rain dripped off the leaves above your head and hit you with much bigger, colder spots of rain, when suddenly Taeyong’s voice rang clear. “Ghost?”

You heard Doyoung’s exasperated sigh, “Really? There’s no such thing and you know that. It was probably just a twig.”

“But—”

“We set up right next to the big tree, like you wanted—so don’t you complain about it—and what did you expect?”

“No, Doie! My point is that twigs don’t knock twice.”

There was another pause, finished with Taeyong’s whine as his tent-mate gave him a shove as he made his way to the door. The zip protested as it was yanked harshly against the grain, leading Doyoung to curse, before his face appeared in the newly formed gap.

With dark eyes wide and a guffaw on his lips he exclaimed, “Y/N? What are you doing here?” As soon as the man ran the zip further up so you could fit through without crouching you spotted Taeyong’s worried expression by the furthest yellow sheet. His features brightened as soon as he spotted you, a slender arm raising jauntily to wave, his baggy shirt sleeve rising up his solder to only fall back off it again after. The curious frown on your face morphed into a chuckle as you realised that Doyoung had been unsuccessful in keeping the single drop of liquor that it took to get Taeyong tipsy away from him .

The carer in question was currently had his hands outstretched in the rain, beckoning you in like a stray cat that got stuck outside, despite reason dictating his attentions should be on the man behind him. And as if he could hear your thoughts, Taeyong proved as such by wobbling to his feet and giggling as he nearly kicked the lamp over.

“What’s with the—you’re soaked through! Christ Y/N do you not know what a coat is?! And where are your shoes?!”

The man flurried around as you shivered in the gap, moving from watching him search for a towel down to analysing the mess on your feet. And boy was there a lot. Your soles were practically caked in slobbery brown, specks mixing with long trails of rain around your ankles and even up your calf.

You winced at the sight, and it carried over to face Doyoung when he returned, a slightly mucky pink towel brandished before him. “Quickly! Clean your feet so you can come inside!”

While you retrieved his ‘gift’, your finger accidentally caught the back of his palm, leading him to jump back with a yelp. Hearing Taeyong giggle, he quickly scampered out of the way to stand further behind, in order to let you sit by the doorway on the tarp so you could clean up your feet. He mumbled to himself as he went, cursing you out over your “special A-class of clownery”.

You only chuckled in response.

After a few minutes of cleaning you were done, and you slipped through into the warm with a shudder. The two of them had returned to prodding one another while u were busy, and it meant you were greeted with another cry from Doyoung as he bent down to close the zip once again. Glancing round, you watched the tail-end of Taeyong whipping him with a separate towel, as the man stood tipsily and made his way over to you with it.

“Hey—!”

“Aww, poor Y/N, you must be so cold!” the older cooed, completely ignoring his friend in favour of draping the towel over your head. His face, before it was obscured by old polka dotted blue, had a rosy hue, and his eyes were even bigger than usual. The delicate scar that adorned the corner of his eye was no longer hidden by his hair—tied up cutely like a sprout—and it mesmerised you even more now; how it accented his temple and pretty cheeks and made him seem even more ethereal. He began to dry your hair gently, and you couldn’t help but giggle at how he rocked your head with his motions. “Bless you, did the rain soak through? Doyoung give her some of your clothes.”

“Why not yours?!”

“Because I know you packed three times as many as you needed,” Taeyong retorted simply, scrunching his nose as your face appeared from beneath the canopy of the towel when he finally eased his hands away, “there, a little drier, right?” He combed his hand gently through your dishevelled locks of hair, letting them settle more naturally to frame your face, and he looked so adorable while he did so—with his cute smile squishing his cheeks letting his little dimples appear—that you didn’t have anywhere near the level of cruelty in you to stop him.

“You do know she’ll probably just go straight back outside again, right?” Doyoung huffed, dragging one of his hoodies out of his bag while he eyed your exchange carefully. If you weren’t so giddy from the rush of being out in the rain you perhaps would’ve decided that he was jealous, going by his light scowl and and eye roll.

As Taeyong shifted to drape your hair out of your face, cooing when it merely fell back in, Doyoung stood and held out a bundle of baggy navy to you. His features were firm, eyes staring you down to the best of his ability with his jaw clenched. It only made his cheeks puff out though, and thus didn’t create the assertive look that he was after. It was clear that he still hadn’t worked that out yet, but were you going to be the one that notified him and made the bunny look disappear? Not in your wildest dreams. “It’s clean, but you’re not going back outside in it,” he stated firmly.

You met his eyes, reaching out for the soft cotton, when at that moment there was a screech outside.

The three of you jumped, heads whipping to the front of the tent once again. Taeyong’s hand jumped to your shoulder as you frowned. “Was that… Xuxi?”

Doyoung scoffed, the tension in his body alleviating in the corner of your eye. “There’s only one man capable of making a noise that loud, that’s for sure.”

You had to admit, curiosity had struck you at the last moment. Peering round to Taeyong as he let his hand fall sheepishly, and back up to Doyoung, you finally let your eyes settle on the clothes still held up in an offer to you.

What do you do?

Accept the clothes and stay in the safe and warm

Investigate the noise outside

~~~

Masterlist

#nct #wayv #nct 127 #nct x reader #wayv x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct fluff #wayv fluff #nct 127 fluff #nct scenarios #wayv scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #taeyong x reader #taeyong fluff #doyoung x reader #doyoung fluff #nct interactive story #wayv interactive story #nct 127 interactive story

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taesbetch · 6 years ago

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04| Blood//Water

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Gory, Smut (eventually) Mafia!AU

Summary: Taehyungs life has become consumed with the gang lifestyle. But when he becomes a bit too greedy he endangers the only person he's ever truly cared about. Fighting fire with fire is never a good idea, but Taehyung is lit match in a room full of gasoline, will everyone make it out unburnt?

Word Count: 1.8k

(it's short because I'm working on some new stuff and this is another filler chap for next week - :))) still hope you like it also my goddamn tag list deleted itself IM SO SORRY! )

Previous |

Previously...

“why won’t you just let me die, I don’t want to do this anymore” You whimpered. Your eyes burned and your lungs were ready to give out. Taehyung turned you around, holding your cheek with one hand and your body in the other.

“because I love you” He stated in all seriousness. Before letting you register what he said he pressed his lips against yours giving you a harsh peck as you made muffled noises in protest.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” You yelled as you pushed him away from you.

“You kill my friends and then tell me you love me!” you yelled as you looked at him in disgust.

“Don’t fucking kiss me again” you hissed as you swam to shore, knowing there was no other way to escape, it was either swim forever or go back and replan. You shot taehyung a look as hoseok helped you out, the boy didn’t seem bothered with your words of hatred….and that concerned you…

He really was a monster with no regard for others…

“I told you. to leave me. Alone” You huffed as you glared at the mafia leader who sat in the comer of your room, his eyes watching your standing figure intensely as the edges of his lips raised.

“Well, who else is going to make sure you don’t escape again?” He stated, winking at you whilst you glared back. You couldn’t help but feel a pit of anger bubble in your stomach ass you watched him get comfortable.

“why can’t you just tell me how you know me. This is getting ridiculous” You hissed as you sat on your bed, arms crossed with a pout. Taehyung shot you a look as you waited for him to explain himself.

“Because that’s not fun” He sighed. He clicked his tongue before getting up, making his way over to the space next to you. You tried to shoo him away from you, but your hands were grabbed harshly by taehyung.

“Don’t be rude sweetheart” He hissed.

You looked at him in shock as he removed his hands from your wrist. His eyes never left yours as he tried to push some hair out of your face, though you jerked away you couldn’t help but feel afraid to push his hands away again, there was something about the way he interacted with you now. a new-found confidence almost. He wasn’t scared to act as he would anymore, almost accepting your judgement of him

“You really don’t remember anything. Anything at all?” He asked as you stiffened at his touch. You relaxed as he pulled away shooting a glare his way before clearing your throat. Your mind instantly flashed to back at the docks when a brief memory had infiltrated your focus.

“no. I don’t remember anything” You whispered, your eyes flicking away from his. Hearing him huff in disappointment your eyes slowly found his, his eyes piercing into your soul as he blatantly saw through your lie.

“I won’t tell you, but I can help you remember more” He smirked, his eyes glimmering with excitement as his lip twitched into a smirk. You looked at him questioningly, knowing you were playing with fire.

“Well…I would like to know” You mumbled nervously, not knowing how exactly he was going to help you. a cheeky smile made its way on his face as you scooted further onto your bed

“Do you want to remember, do you really?” he asked, his voice lowering further than you thought possible. Your eyes scanned his looking for some dark altera motive to his suggestion, but you couldn’t find one, instead, you just found pure excitement. You hummed in response, clearly nervous but you wanted to know why the troublesome boy had entered your life.

“I can help you, but you’ll have to trust me” he stated, his eyes narrowing as you scoffed in response

“Trust you? like hell, you murdered my friends in front of me” you responded, trying not to let the emotions of the night flood into the day.

“You were supposed to get into the car and who needs friends anyway,” he said non-chalantly, his tone to cheery for the subject he was talking about.

“What the fuck is wrong with you” you whispered, shaking your head as you couldn’t contain the look of disgust that covered your face.

“let’s find out, lay down”

You bite your lip wondering if you should or not, you knew he didn’t have intentions of hurting you but seeing what he was capable of was enough to have you shaking.

Laying down your eyes constantly flickered from the ceiling to taehyung.

“are you ready?” he asked as his eyes racked your lying figure.

“no but…whatever” you huffed, getting ready for instructions on what to do next.

“Close your eyes and listen to the sound of my voice” He said. You fluttered your eyes closed, taehyung’s words echoing in your ears.

You let your body relax as taehyung kept talking, his sultry voice helping your mind slip.

“let your mind slip, remember what you can and not what you want to” He stated. Though being hypnotised was not what you expected, it seemed to be working, even though you tried to fight it, your memory was doing its best to comply to taehyung’s demand.

“wow” You whispered as you appeared in your past, the streets

“where are you?” taehyung asked, his voice holding the same hypnotic tone.

“I don’t know yet... its night time, it feels like not that long ago” you panted as your heart rate accelerated

“your panting, why?” he asked as you felt your body temperature drop, sweat started dropping from your pores as you started realising what you were re-experiencing.

“I’m scared…its…it’s the night I met you…the man in the alleyway, he’s becoming clearer” you huffed as you remember his voice “so you his princess”. You head tried to adjust the lighting of your memory, zooming in and out to try and get a better look of the man in the dark.

“the man, he’s got red hair, his shoes…. their covered in mud? Red dust? I can’t tell “you said as you scanned the man. your heart flew to your throat as you realised what was in his hand.

his fingers were wrapped around a gun, his eyes piercing through your head as he slowly raised it. Though something stopped him, his eyes widened as he stared at you closely, his arm lowering as he huffed, letting you run away even though he had a perfect opportunity to kill you right then and then.

The man wore a jacket, almost a disguise, his jacket holding a mountain logo.

“He could’ve killed me” You panted as you felt the fear of the night “He’s wearing a jacket with a mountain logo on it, it looks like a disguise but…something seems off about his attire” You said, ignoring the way your eyes watered and your body shook.

“Stop.” Taehyung commanded.

Your eyes shoot. Though you were brought back to the present you couldn’t help but see flashes of your past. The detail slowly slipped away, leading you to grasp at the last pieces of information you could.

“why did you do that” You whispered as you tried to compose yourself

“Look at you, you're to shaken up, we all know what happened next, like hell id let you relive that. Even though what I got wasn’t what I put you under for – I have enough information. I can’t believe I haven’t thought about doing this before” He sighed.

“Of course, how did I not see that sooner” He added with a head shake as he pulled out his phone. His fingers typing away as he sighed once more.

“what did you get? What’s going on?” You asked as he put his phone back in his phone.

“we had some speculation’s on where the base of the block boys drug cartel was. Your little memory jog has just confirmed it. Those bastards are using the mountains as their hiding spot, going undercover as the digger company that works up there. If we can destroy their drug business, we can destroy them. Simple. “ He explained.

“are you sure that’s a good idea?” You asked, your body still reacting as if it were living the past. “Isn’t that how we got in this mess in the first place? You messing with people?”

A chuckle escaped his lips as he walked closer to you, making you feel uncomfortable at the different levels the two of you were at, You sitting on the bed and he standing over you.

“Oh, my little princess, I don’t mess with people. I destroy them. if they want to play with fire then by all means, I’m up for a fight” He shrugged as that darn smirk appeared on his face again.

Taehyung started moving away from you and towards the door, the way he walked signifying that someone was about to get it.

“Hey wait! I still wanna know how we know each other!” you yelled out as he placed his hand on the door knob.

Taehyung stopped, his body was still as he thought about what to do.

“your reaction to that memory…I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to remember me.” He said, his voice deep and serious, no sign of the sarcastic psycho you had been talking to previously.

You looked at the back of his head, disappointment and confusion flooded your mind as the boy swiftly left your room.

“Hurt?” you whispered to your self as you had finally recovered from your visit to the past.

You lay yourself down, trying to dig into your past. Though everything was blurry you knew exactly where things stopped getting blurry.

“Mum?” you whispered. The car ride was silent the tension between your two parents evident as you came to you senses. It almost felt like you had wiped clean, the last thing you remembered was playing on your front lawn with your dolls and your noticeably happier mother.

“Hey y/n, don’t worry everything is okay now, go back to sleep honey” She had said as she turned to you, though you were young you could tell she had been crying for what looked like days, the bags under her eyes were as clear as day as her skin was frost white.

You hummed in response to your mum, noticing how your dad wouldn’t look at you but ignoring it as the man was driving.

From a happy family to that…everything in between was missing and though you tried to remember before, today you felt different.

But alas, as you tried to dive into your subconscious and unravel its secrets you couldn’t, it was as if a barricade was keeping you from the parts of your life you were so curious about.

sighing you gave it a rest… you had other things to worry about.

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plus-size-reader · 6 years ago

Text

Not Every Man pt 2

Daryl Dixon x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1819 words

Warnings: Abuse and cheating

Summary: Reader spends the night in Daryl’s care, she sees his scars and he finds something out about her past that isn’t as expected as he thought.

Read Part 1 here

———————————————————————————————————

You hadn’t said anything to Shane since yesterday, true to your word you’d bunked with someone else but it wasn’t exactly one of the girls and it wasn’t exactly anywhere near the house.

Daryl didn’t want to risk Shane coming to find you in the middle of the night so he suggested that you stay with him for the night.

As it would turn out, Daryl knew a lot more about caring for someone who didn’t have your best interest at heart too.

“Where did those come from?” you asked, curling the throw blanket around your waist as you sat up in the ‘bed’ if it could be called that, exposing you to the cold night air.

Patricia had offered to let you borrow some of Otis’ shirts to sleep in and even with your added weight, you were swimming in the fabric.

Daryl was understandably caught off guard by your question.

He’d completely forgotten about the scars that littered his back, scars that you’d never seen until now. “Nothin’” he assured, hurrying to find a shirt in his piles of random shit in an attempt to cover the marking but you’d already moved from the bed to stop him.

“What are they Daryl? Nothing’s happened out here to give you those” you reason, sitting level with where he was kneeling on the floor to get a better look at the raised flesh that decorated the entirety of his back.

“you’re right, nothing out here gave me those” he allowed, turning slightly to look in your eyes before turning fully, sitting down in front of you.

You were completely amazed by Daryl.

All these months the two of you had been traveling together and there were so many things about him you never even knew to ask about. “You don’t have to tell me, I didn’t mean to pry” your voice was just above a whisper and careful in your throat.

He’d been so kind to you and the last thing you wanted to do was jeopardize that for something as stupid as curiosity.

Before you could dig yourself into a hole, Daryl thought it necessary to stop you, reaching over to take your hand in his own on your lap. “Don’t worry about it, they’re old” he started, playing with your fingers again, almost as if he was taking his mind off of something.

“My daddy was a mean ol’ drunk” again, there was something so slight in his tone that shocked you, you’d never known a man to be so vulnerable and honest on purpose.

“What a bastard” you muttered, earning a hearty chuckle from the man.

If only you knew how right you were, his father was one of the biggest bastards there ever was but no one’d known that before you. “Can I see?” you wondered, knowing how truly out of line your request was, you didn’t care.

You trusted that if Daryl really had a problem with something you were doing, he would have stopped you a long time ago.

You gently wrapped your hands around his broad shoulder, which were dirty with mud and blood but you didn’t mind, your skin wasn’t much better.

He was clearly uncomfortable with what you were doing but allowed it none-the-less, he trusted you and it there was even a snowballs chance in hell that this would make you feel better, his comfortableness was well worth it. He allowed you to turn him back around so that his back was once again on display for your eyes.

It was a grotesque and sickening display, not because the scars themselves were gross but because the idea of a father doing this to his child was so hard to swallow.

Your own father wasn’t the greatest, but it was nothing compared to this, you never doubted that he loved you, but from the looks of this, Daryl had never know that love from anyone.

While the past they held was disgusting, there was something beautiful about the patterns each scar created across the wide expanse of his back. It was a testament to how strong and resilient Daryl was and it didn’t make any sense that he would hide from that.

“I’m sorry I never realized how much you’d been through, you had to do it all alone” you whispered, arguably more for yourself than for him.

As uncomfortable as he was with you seeing his scars, he was that much more bothered when you reached out to touch them.

Your touch was light and kind as you let your fingertips graze over the agitated flesh, and even though they’d been healed long past being painful, Daryl jolted at the contact.

Instantly you pulled your hand away, afraid that you’d hurt him and regretting everything you’d done prior to this moment.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you” you hurried, scooting away from him on your butt toward the bed, and looking at your hand as if it’d done something horrid.

Daryl was startled at the contact but he was in no way angry with you for doing it. This was just new territory for him that he’d never braved with anyone else, so a learning curve was to be expected.

“Hey, where’re ya goin’?” he asked, turning to find you in the fetal position against the bed. There were tears in your eyes again and you were quivering as if expecting something awful to happen as recompense for your action.

Daryl hadn’t understood before now but there was much more to the story than he’d originally realized, he’d seen that look before.

“He hit you, didn’t he? Shane?” he clarified, kneeling down beside you as if to test the waters an even with his slow movements, you still tensed.

“Only after really hard days and he didn’t mean it...it wasn’t aimed at me, I would just get too close” you confirmed, lifting your head to look at him, finding his eyes wide as he took in the sight in front of him.

He’d never actually dealt with someone else who’d been beaten so obviously he was a bit taken back.

“I’ll kill the bastard, I’ll kill him” he promised, more for his own benefit than your own and before you could even react he was gone, leaving the tent flap thrown up to the wind in the process.

You knew Shane would be angry, very angry.

Not only had the two of you gotten into a fight but you’d also involved another man and spent the night in very close proximity to his body. Nothing had happened between the two of you of course, but Shane wouldn’t believe it, if he wanted to be angry, he would be even if he had to make up a reason for it.

By the time you gathered yourself and got up from the floor Daryl was no where to be seen so you went to the next best thing.

Rick.

The man looked surprised at your sudden entrance into the kitchen, your eyes were wide with fear and you could hardly breath without gasping. He hurried to grab his gun, assuming there was something corpse related going on outside, which there may have been soon if you didn’t get out there quickly.

“It’s Daryl, he found out something about Shane and I’m worried he’ll, he’s...he’s gonna kill him” you tried, running your hands through your hair as you tried your hardest to get the words out without panicking.

“Keep her here, I’ll take care of it” he suggested, his order directed at Glenn who wrapped his arms around you even though you fought him on it.

Rick thought you were overreacting but by the time he got out to where Shane’s truck was parked, he saw just how wrong he was. Shane’s muscle bound frame was over Daryl’s, holding him down to the ground and receiving punch after punch into his face.

Shane was bleeding too, so it was obvious the other man had gotten his far share of licks in before Shane got the upper hand.

“What are you doing? Get off of him” Rick barked, upset with his friend and completely unprepared for what he found ahead of him. He’d always known about Shane’s violent streak but he’d never seen it like this, he was out for blood and if he didn’t stop soon, he’d have found it.

Before he could even react, Daryl had rolled Shane over onto the dirt, hitting him in the throat to stop his unending attack.

“What’s wrong? You only fight girls?” he taunted, hitting him one more time for good measure before standing. He’d made his point, so now he could leave the actual policing to Rick.

As hard as Glenn tried to hold you, you were both stronger and more determined than him so it wasn’t long before you were free and running toward where the unmistakable noises of male testosterone was coming from until you came face to face with Daryl.

“What happened? Are you alright? Oh God, I thought he was going to kill you” you sobbed, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled him into you. He’d taken a few hits but nothing compared to what he did to the other guy.

“Ah, no...he couldn’t take me, you kiddin’?” He teased, accepting your hug and holding you close. He wasn’t sure what it was about you that filled him with such foreign feelings but he couldn’t help it.

The idea of Shane taking that much power from you was ridiculous and filled him with blinding rage, a rage that he just couldn’t fathom.

The truth had come out, and all of your dirty laundry was out in the open for everyone to see. Everyone knew the truth about Shane and how much he’d hurt you which, as frightening as it was, actually turned out to be a good thing.

You’d met someone who cared for you and wanted you to be safe and protected, someone who knew where you were coming from and wasn’t afraid to go to great lengths to protect you.

“Thank you so much Daryl, no one has ever done anything like this for me” you explained, and before he could assure you that it was no big deal, you pressed a kiss to his lips and held him that much closer.

Sometimes the right man is standing in the shadow of a much worse monster but now that you knew the difference, you weren’t about to let your Mr.Right get away.

“That’s quite the thank you Y/N” he grinned, kissing you again with that same grin on his face even when he pulled away.

It’s said that curiosity killed the cat but lesser known is the full phrase ‘curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back’ if that was true, then Daryl Dixon was all the satisfaction you would ever need.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x plus size reader #daryl dixon x ps reader #twd #twd x reader #twd x ps reader #twd x plus size reader #The Walking Dead #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead x plus size reader #the walking dead x ps reader

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thetaekswoon · 7 years ago

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NCT Jungwoo| Camp Counselor AU

Ok so like we all know Lucas is hot af (and my age whoops I might as well go have a stroke now), but like Jungwoo... JUNGWOO MAN, that boy, that bOI. I love him.

Jungwoo:

Jungwoo is the counselor for the Coyote Cabin (boys ages 5 to 6) and he really loves working with the little kids!

Jungwoo is just so soft and kind and gentle and loving and wonderful and perfect, he was made to work with little kids, and that was why he was placed to work with the youngest cabin at the camp.

Like head counselor for the Coyote cabin is Yoongi and he was unfortunately placed in this cabin against his will (Yoongi wanted to be in a cabin for the older kids), and fellow counselor Sanha is too young to work in a cabin for any of the older kiddos, but like Jungwoo just genuinely enjoys working with all the little kids.

They all call him big brother or uncle Jungwoo because they all love him so much oh.

In a highkey bromance with fellow counselor Lucas, and everytime they walk by a group of middle-aged female campers they all go ooohhh and ahhhh and start humming “bromance” by nigahiga...

(I’m so sorry not sorry that i had to remind y’all about that, but yeah that was a necessity in this piece)

Jungwoo works down in the barn area at the camp and specializes in the little cuter animals like the chickens and geese, the rabbits, guinea pigs, and hedgehogs. Basically all the small animals.

and Jungwoo isn’t like a particular animal person, like he can’t really stand getting all down and dirty with the horses or alpacas like the counselors that specialize in those areas do...

or like Lucas who literally is always covered in dirt or mud

... but he does like working with the small animals, they’re cleaner and he thinks they’re nicer, but in reality all the animals just really like Jungwoo because he is incredibly soft and gentle with them, letting them do their own thing for the most part.

That and the fact that he always carries little treats in the pockets of his shorts.

Jungwoo has two favorite animals at the camp and they are this large Rex rabbit named Baby who likes to cuddle up into his chest and nap, and this older white goose he calls Blah Blah because it always likes to make a lot of noise whenever it realizes that food is around, but otherwise is rather quiet and likes to rest by the door of the barn, so it greets everybody.

People around the camp call Jungwoo many versions of his name, almost everyone has a cute petname for him.

many of the staff close to Jungwoo call him Woos, or something of the sort, while the campers in his cabin typically call him Zeus.

Jungwoo really likes it when the weather is cool enough so that he can walk around the camp wearing his shorts and his oversized camp sweatshirt. he just looks so cute and soft and cuddly that everybody can’t help, but notice it and compliment him.

tbh Jungwoo just likes the feeling of oversized clothing... lol imagine wearing junwoo’s oversized clothes i would die hahaha ha... anyway...

love and protect this boy

basically everyone loves Jungwoo and thinks he’s the most perfect, loving, soft and kind boy...

... that is except you.

For whatever reason Jungwoo just rubs you the wrong way.

like there wasn’t anything in particular that he first did to annoy you, but essentially ever since you first met him you just couldn’t stand to be around him.

You didn’t understand why everybody loved him so much, yes he was nice, but HELL you were nice and you didn’t have a cult following you around all day saying how perfect and lovable you were.

, and you are pretty darn stinking cute too!!!

And it isn’t just that he’s popular that makes you dislike him, it’s just that he always seems to get his way, like every little situation ends up in his favor and he just seems to brush it off like... whatever.

and to be fair every time he has tried talking to you he’s been really nice and even kinda funny not that you would ever give in and laugh at one of his jokes but you just can’t help not liking this guy.

At first Jungwoo was simply hurt by your “seething hatred” towards him, as your fellow Bobcat cabin counselor Joy put it, and he tried his best to make you like him.

Poor boy went so out of his way to try and make you feel better towards him that he even once offered to wash your car to which you replied, “Wash my car?!?? What are you crazy? I can do that myself.” and then stormed off.

To be fair, that offer of his was a bit too much, but he just felt desperate to earn your approval at that point he felt miserable, no one had ever disliked him so much as you and he felt like he had tried everything within his power to fix that.

after many attempts to ease your hatred he just decided to back off and stay away.

, but you didn’t really hate Jungwoo, he just kinda annoyed you. His presence irked you and made you do and say things that you wouldn’t normally say and do.

Maybe all it was, was that Jungwoo just was TOO nice.

One day it was hot and gross and sticky and overall miserable at the camp. It was barely even noon and the sun already felt like too much on your backs.

Everyone was sweating and agitated and felt terrible because of the too hot weather, and Jungwoo was not an exception.

On the outside of course he looked relatively calm and collected, just like how he always is, and it pissed you off like how could someone be just as happy go lucky today as every other day.

Little did you know that Jungwoo was not so happy. In fact he was kinda really angry.

See, everyone kind of expected Jungwoo to always be so soft and nice, so he tried to keep up that persona for everyone, especially the kids, but a lot had happened to him and he just wanted to vent off all this steam.

First of all, that morning one of the campers accidentally let all of the chickens out of their hutch so he had to run all around the barnyard trying to catch all of them.

then, one of the kids got into a fight with another kid over how long their turn had been holding the hamsters and it got kind of physical kinda fast. Too fast for Jungwoo to keep one kid from leaving a heavy black and blue mark on the other’s eye.

He hadn’t even been able to eat breakfast that morning because the staff member that typically fed the animals down at the barn in the mornings called in sick with the flu and Jungwoo had to step in to do it, however he was not entirely familiar with the feed schedules of the larger farm animals and ended up missing breakfast while he tried to dish out the food correctly.

Jungwoo was literally having one of the worst days ever, and he kept it all held in.

That was until the staff meeting during lunch, Jungwoo still hadn’t eaten and at this point it was looking like was wasn’t going to get anything for lunch or he’d have to skip chewing all together to finish eating in time, and to make matters worse... he was sitting next to you.

, now up until this point Jungwoo had had no problem with you despite your evident problem with him, but for whatever reason every time you tapped your pencil against the table it felt like he was getting a blow to the head.

When camp director Leeteuk asked for Jungwoo’s advice on how to solve a current camp issue, how to keep all the kids cool when it was a million and eight degrees outside, Jungwoo suggested that maybe they should give each cabin a time slot to go swimming in either the lake or the pool, you immediately raised your hand and said that his idea wasn’t good enough.

You said that a better solution would be to clear out the air conditioned buildings and put a projector up for them to watch a movie or two, at least until the sun went down.

Jungwoo was furious.

at this moment he felt nothing more than hatred and disgust towards you, just like you towards him.

He was so angry, his idea was fine, it was good, why the hell were you such a bitch???

Your voice made him sick, he was so hot and gross and felt absolutely miserable that just looking at you made him feel vile and like he was going to explode.

and then he did.

As soon as the meeting ended he couldn’t stop himself from calling you out... louder than he had thought he was but at this point his voice’s pitch meant nothing to him.

He cursed and shouted about how you were being such a cold bitch towards him the whole summer and that he didn’t need to put up with all of your bs because “ALL I’VE EVER BEEN WAS NICE TO YOU, WHY THE HELL DO YOU HATE ME SO MUCH? WHAT THE HELL DID I EVER DO TO YOU TO MAKE YOU SUCH A BITCH TOWARDS ME? HUH?”

he went on and on yelling at you, all the other counselors and staff standing around watching Jungwoo actually lose his shit for the first time in pure shock.

And then theres you, listening in absolute awe.

Why was it that you couldn’t stand Jungwoo when he was being nice, but that when he was angry and mean he.,.. turned you on?

You always recognized that he was attractive, you had to give him that, maybe that was one of the reasons why you didn’t like him, but he was never HOT to you,

, but now, Jungwoo standing over you cursing you out for being such a shitty person Jungwoo was H O T.

His hair was all sweaty and he had rolled up his sleeves because of the absurdly warm weather, exposing his shoulders, and he was just going for it.

“IF YOU HATE ME SO MUCH WHY DON’T YOU JUST PRETEND I DON’T EXIST THEN THAT’LL BE BETTER FOR EVERYBODY!”

and just like that he was gone. Jungwoo vanished.

He had stormed out, and everyone was just silent. Jungwoo never acted like that and thank god Leeteuk had already left the room otherwise someone could have gotten in big trouble.

Everyone there was staring at you in disbelief, and you were just as shocked yourself,

not knowing what to do you stand up and charge after him, quickly making eye contact with Joy, fellow counselor of the Bobcat cabin telling her that you’ll be out for a minute.

You didn’t know much about Jungwoo so when he was out of your sight you didn’t know where he may be off to.

all you knew was that he worked down in the barns, so that was where you went to go look for him first, and lucky enough there he was.

He looked so angry, so blind sided, powerful and ANGRY back after the meeting, but now..., Jungwoo is sitting on the floor with his head in his hands between his legs and he just looks utterly exhausted.

You know that he hears you walking up to him, but jungwoo doesn’t bother lifting his head up.

almost as if his lash out took all of his energy away.

“Can I sit?” you ask him

, the poor boy flinches at the sound of your voice, but doesn’t say anything.

So you sit down next to him. Surprising even yourself at how close you sit next to him, your shoulders touching.

To a stranger this scene may look like two close friends comforting one another, but in reality you two know practically nothing about each other, and you’re not exactly comforting one another.

It seems like Jungwoo is breaking down, his breathing is rough and fast and it is the only sound besides the rare flutter of feathers and cry of an animal in the barn, most of them out in their pasture anyway.

, so together you sit in the silence and it isn’t that bad, not that awkward or anything. You’re just concerned over Jungwoo’s wellbeing at this point.

Once his breathing has calmed down a bit you finally open your mouth to say something, but you can’t think of the right words to say.

“Um, you know....” you start, and though he doesn’t look up from between his knees you can tell that he’s listening to you, “I don’t actually hate you.”

It’s the truth. You haven’t really felt anything negative towards Jungwoo for a while now, but by this point in the summer it felt to strange to admit those feelings to him. However, if you had known that it was eating away at him so badly then maybe you would have said something sooner.

Jungwoo sucks in a breath, he didn’t expect you to say that, he thought you were going to say something mean, that you had come here to take on some kind of revenge for humiliating you earlier like that in front of everybody.

he thought that you had come here to make him cry, to be fair at this point any bad words about him would probably have poor jungwoo crying into his hands, hes had such a terrible day.

, but maybe this was just your way of getting back at him, pretending that you’re no longer “enemies”

He stays quiet.

“I don’t know why I acted so awful towards you, all those times I’ve snapped back or made you feel worthless. I don’t think I meant any of it, really. I think I was just kind of trapped in this fake illusion of you that I created in my head - if that makes any sense.”

what you say next takes away any doubt in your sincerity in Jungwoo’s mind.

“I’m sorry. I cannot say that enough, I’m so freaking sorry.”

And Jungwoo is so shocked that slowly, he begins to sit up and lean back against the wall.

his face is flushed you notice, turning to look right at him while he keeps his head faced forward, his cheeks and forehead are red and his eyes are a little puffy,,, you wonder if he’d been crying or if he was about to.

“I’m sorry too.” Jungwoo says eventually. Very quiet, almost whispering. “I’m sorry that I raised my voice.”

and with that you can’t help but let out a little laugh, looking forward.

for the first time he turns to look at you. “What?”

“Nothing,,,. nothing.” you tell him, “It’s just that I really was such a freaking bitch.”

He chuckles. and you push a little into his shoulder, a little playfully, and he does it back.

You two fall into another silence together, but this time it’s nice and calming. You’re looking over a little above his shoulder and him kind of the same. and then you’re staring at his face, and it takes jungwoo a while to notice this, but when he does he looks up at you, his eyebrows asking whats going on,

and you say to him quietly, “I have a weird feeling right now.”

“What kind of feeling?” he whispers, this all feels so scenic like from a movie with the light coming in from the open barn doors.

“I just really want to kiss you right now, I’m sorry I know that’s out of bounds.” you say, expecting him to move away from you or act any differently than he is now, but Jungwoo just stays where he is, silent, and watches you.

He seems to be thinking things over in his head, and after a few moments of him not moving away, you lean forward, just a little bit...

Jungwoo doesn’t seem to be annoyed or move, so you reach up, placing your hands on either side of his face

his skin is smooth and warm

And you press your lips against his, lightly at first, and after he doesn’t make any moves to stop you, staying rather still, you kiss him slightly harder, and after a few moments of simply kissing him, Jungwoo starts kissing you back.

His hand behind your neck is firm and keeps you in place.

Kim Jungwoo is a much better kisser than you anticipate him to be, not that you had ever even thought about kissing him before 30 seconds ago.

the kiss doesn’t last long, it’s quick and sweet. Neither of you can keep the smile from spreading across your face.

“I’m not asking if we’re good, cause well i don’t really know, but like... are we good?” you ask.

“Yeah, I think so.” He whispers, and rests his forehead on yours.

You two stay down at the barn just sitting there for about twenty minutes or so until you decide to head back up to the main camp together,

, and needless to say... everybody is shocked to see you two together... being so,, civil.

like you’re not trying to make a spectacle of yourselves, you don’t hold hands or anything - though you couldn’t help but wonder what people’s reactions would be like if you two showed up and you were, probably similar but just a lot more hanging jaws - you just stand really close, talking like normal ass human beings, maybe even friends.

When you turn to head over to your cabin group which is resting in the shade at the end of the field, Jungwoo gives you slight shoulder squeeze and a nod before heading over to his group.

Approaching your group, Joy gives you the “wtf” look and you just shrug,

“Guess things just worked themselves out.” you say, sitting down next to her.

“That’s some magic stuff right there.... Wait.” she looks at you, takes your head in her hands and starts moving you around like a mother, “wait omg you’re glowing. omg Y/N what the hell!?? Did you...” her voice is surprised, but low enough to stay out of earshot of the campers.

“No, no nothing like that.” you tell her. “and besides it’s none of your business anyway.”

“he just hugged you. Jungwoo hugged you are you’re not fuming? I just don’t understand.”

“pfff, he barely hugged me, I wouldn’t even call it that.”

“Whatever it was, you’re wild girl.” and you laugh.

For the rest of the summer there are no more conflicts between Jungwoo and yourself, but there are no more kisses either :(

, however there was one time when a bunch of the staff went out hiking on their day off that you two sort of snuck off and vibed out by a small creek, listening to music and dare I say holding hands every once and a while.

Truth be told, you were much happier working at the camp with Jungwoo as a friend, he quickly became one of the closest people to you within the following weeks,

all those reasons why you hated him soon made you adore about him, he was more of a listener than I talker, he always made his words count, He was devoted and gentle and lovely, his oversized sweaters make him look so cute and huggable, the sweaters so very stealable,

, though nothing really continued to blossom between you two during the summer there is always the hope of next year, both of you already signed up to be counselors again for the following year,

, and besides you do have his number.

<><> do not edit/remove anything from the original post <><> this AU belongs to me <><>

#nct #kim jungwoo #nct u #nct jungwoo #kim jungwoo au #summer camp au #camp au #au #scenarios #nct au #nct scenarios #kim jungwoo scenarios #thetaekswoon #kpop #kpop au #kpop scenarios #neo culture technology

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askullinajar · 7 years ago

Text

The Shattered Frame (Part 4/7)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Fic info: this is a sequel to my previous fic, The Living Ghost so go read that or this won’t make sense. Rating: General. Pairings: Lucy/Lockwood, Holly/Rani. Ao3 link: here.

A cluster of hauntings in a decrepit manor and the dripping spectre of a woman dressed all in black hits a little too close to home for Lockwood & Co’s newest member.

Part 4 – Redwood Manor

Mr Taylor turned out to be a timid shadow of a man in his late thirties, with eyes that darted back and forth like prey on the lookout for its predator. According to George, he’d been quite the formidable agent in his youth, but the fading of his Talent had left him jittery, terrified of being killed by the ghosts he could no longer see.

He guided us around the manor with the air of someone who would rather be in a cage with several lions who hadn’t eaten in weeks, because at least then he could see them. His stuttering commentary accompanied us from the vast foyer, through the living room with its musty armchairs and wide fireplace, upstairs through the dusty bedrooms, and downstairs to the basement that used to be the servants’ quarters, but was now used to store old furniture draped in moth-eaten sheets.

He refused to enter any of the bathrooms or the kitchen, informing us that many had been found drowned there, and he stayed on the porch when he took us to the back garden where the swimming pool was situated.

“Th-that’s where they found Lady Moore,” he stammered, gesturing weakly to the empty pool.

I walked up to the edge and peered in. Thick slime and dirt obscured the tiles, and puddles of old rainwater had formed in cracks at the bottom.

“Wouldn’t want to drown in there,” I said, grimacing.

Lockwood patted Mr Taylor on the shoulder. “Well, Ms Moore won’t be bothering you for much longer. How about you head off home before it gets dark and we’ll set up?”

Mr Taylor wasted absolutely no time in leaving us alone in the garden.

“See any death glows yet?” I asked Lockwood.

He hummed. “There’s one in the middle of the pool, quite bright already. I suppose it’ll only get brighter.” He pulled out his spare pair of sunglasses from his coat pocket and handed them to Skully for later.

I’d never been on a case with the living, breathing Skully before. None of us had. He tended to lounge around at home while we went out and risked our lives. I didn’t question it much; I just guessed he’d had enough of death. It was a shame, though; with his connection to the Other Side, Skully’s Talent was the strongest out of all of us. He had Sight as sensitive as Lockwood’s and Listening on par with mine. That, combined with his supernatural powers, meant clearing this manor of Visitors shouldn’t be too much trouble, as long as he actually cooperated.

Kipps put on his goggles. As a group, we scouted out the manor again, this time putting our combined talents to use and checking the temperature as we went along.

We set up our first iron chain in the living room in front of the fireplace, dumping all our spare equipment in it, then we set up smaller chains outside the bathrooms, kitchen, the back porch, and, finally, the basement, which was a few degrees colder than was natural.

The temperature steadily dropped as the sun gradually dipped below the horizon, colder near the water sources; dozens of death glows appeared, forcing Skully and Lockwood to don their sunglasses; shadowy figures began to drift through the hallways, but they seemed harmless for now, and I caught faint gurgling sounds coming from the kitchen sink.

As we were circling the perimeter of the house near the pool, Skully let out a yell.

“LOOK OUT!”

I nearly jumped out of my skin, Holly shrieked, Kipps squealed and clutched my arm, George leapt several feet into the air and his glasses went flying, Lockwood stumbled and fell flat on his face.

“Oh,” said Skully. “Never mind. Just a shadow.”

I slapped his arm.

“Ow!” he yelped. “What was that for?!”

“You know exactly what that was for!”

“Is this what you had to put up with on cases, Luce?” said Kipps, glowering at Skully who grinned evilly back at him.

“You have no idea,” I replied.

“No more of that,” said Lockwood, pushing himself to his feet and wiping mud off his sunglasses. “I think it’s time to form a plan.” He turned to face us as George retrieved his glasses off the ground and fumbled to put them on while glaring daggers at Skully. “Right, so I reckon we should split up to cover more ground. That way there’s more chance of one of us stumbling across a source. If you see Elizabeth Moore… Skully, are you listening?”

“What?” said Skully, abruptly. “Oh. No, I was just looking at this cloud over there. Looks just like Barnes on a moped.”

“Oh my god, it does,” I said as the others hummed in agreement.

Lockwood pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, as much as that cloud looks like Barnes on a moped, and it really looks like Barnes on a moped, we have some sources to find. Skully?”

“Yes?”

Lockwood spoke slowly, maintaining eye contact with the inattentive ex-ghost. “We’re going to split up…”

“Yes.”

“And if we see Elizabeth Moore…”

“Yes.”

“We… You’re not listening, are you?”

“Yes. Wait. What? No, I zoned out again.”

I slapped my palm against my forehead.

“Okay, new plan,” said Lockwood. “We split into twos. Whoever’s with Skully, make sure he doesn’t break anything and/or kill anyone. I’ll go with Lucy–”

“Shocker.”

“Shut up, George. We’ll take the garden. Quill and George, take the top two floors. Skully and Hol, take the ground floor and basement. If any of you see Elizabeth Moore, scream, and the rest of us will come running. Got it?”

We nodded, all except Skully, who was pulling at a loose thread in his coat. Holly had to tug on his sleeve to get him to follow her.

“She better come back in one piece!” I called after them.

“Of course,” Skully called back. “She promised me cake. Enjoy your moonlit walk, lovebirds.”

I stuck my tongue out at him as he disappeared into the house with the others.

I walked the grounds with Lockwood’s familiar presence at my side. A few wispy shapes had formed near the pool.

“Make out any details, Lockwood?” I asked.

“They’re not fully formed yet, but they look like kids to me,” he replied. “Agents who met a bad end, possibly.” He paused for a moment, then said, “You can call me Anthony, you know?”

I looked up at him. “What?”

“It’s just…” His brow furrowed as if he was thinking over his next words. “We’re together now, right? It seems weird for my girlfriend to call me by my surname.”

I blushed at the term ‘girlfriend’, still not used to it. “Anthony,” I said, rolling the word on my tongue, trying it out. I smirked at him. “What if I wanna call you ‘big A’.”

“Then I’m dumping you,” he monotoned.

I stuck my bottom lip out. “That’s just mean.”

He laughed at my expression and nudged my side as we continued walking past the pool. “Just kidding. I’d never let you go, Luce. Even if you called me ‘big A’.” He stuck out his tongue in disgust.

“And what about ‘A.J’,” I said, casually.

Lockwood’s brow furrowed, and he looked at the ground. “Jessica called me that, sometimes.”

I glanced over at him. “You didn’t seem to mind when Skully said it.”

He shrugged. “It’s… I don’t know. It seemed normal when he said it. Guess he’s growing on me.”

I smiled slightly. “Well, my best friend and my boyfriend need to get along…”

I stopped walking. Lockwood looked over at me and raised his eyebrows questioningly. “I hear water,” I said. It was getting colder, too. My breath puffed out in front of me.

Lockwood frowned. “Wait, I hear it too.”

I looked up at him, confused; his Listening was usually terrible. If he could hear it, then…

I turned back towards the pool. I watched as water gushed into it from an unknown source, rapidly filling it all the way up to the brim.

“Lucy!” Lockwood shouted. I whipped back around to see he had his rapier drawn and was facing down a Visitor who hovered a few feet in front of him.

She was dressed all in black, and the fabric rippled and flowed around her form as if weightless. Thick tendrils of dark hair swirled around her pale face and dark, hollow eyes stared towards us. It was as if she was eternally floating underwater.

And, around her, more Visitors gathered, getting more defined as they drew closer, as if gaining strength from the psychic energy she radiated, until I could clearly see every hair plastered to their foreheads, their clothes dark and weighed down, the water dripping from their locks, down their noses, their sleeves, their legs, pooling beneath them on the grass below.

My ears buzzed with psychic humming; words I couldn’t quite make out.

“Elizabeth?” I addressed the ghost. Lockwood glanced over at me but didn’t attempt to stop me.

Faint words. “…gone…can’t…”

“What is it you want?” I said. “We can help you.”

“…can’t find him… gone… need to find him…”

“Your brother?” I said. “Can you tell me his name?”

The ghost snapped her necked up and stared right at me, her face contorted into a hideous expression before she let out a spectral shriek. “GONE!”

I stumbled backwards from shock. Lockwood unclipped a salt canister from his belt and hurled it at the ghosts’ feet. It exploded, sending grains of salt everywhere and making ectoplasm hiss and sputter. The Visitors flickered out, but Elizabeth reappeared only a few feet back and raised a huge gust of freezing wind that smacked into us with full force and sent us staggering backwards towards the pool. It kept blowing, whipping our hair back from our faces, forcing us ever closer to the water.

With great effort, I grabbed a magnesium flare and, squinting against the harsh wind, threw it in the general direction of Elizabeth’s ghost.

There was a flash of Greek fire, and Elizabeth momentarily flickered out again, giving us a brief respite from the spectral wind, but it didn’t last long.

She reappeared even closer and sent another blast of air our way. My feet teetered on the edge of the pool, the icy water lapped at my ankles. It only took one more gust of wind to knock me over.

I just had time to scream, and to hear Lockwood shout my name, before I was enveloped by the frosty water.

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cassandrapentayaaaaas · 7 years ago

Note

6, 7, and 12 for the OC Codex Prompts!

I had way too much fun with this, and things got a little lengthy. Thank you so much for the ask!!!! :) (also, I’m sorry it took so long to respond 😓)

All of these are about Peter.

answers for 7 and 12 are very long, and located below the cut 😬

6. someone describing a time your OC helped them

Codex Entry: Bill of Sale

Mumma,

Don worry bou payin the Bann anymore, I have it covered.

The Quizitor came thru today. He heard me arguin with one of Ogden’s brutes bout not bein able ta pay our taxes. I was tryin ta be quiet bout it but Magsley woul’n hear of it. It got heated an Magsley banged on tha table. All ma coins scatered an the Quizitor helpde me pick em up afer he shouted Magsley out the door an down tha hill fer bein onkind. The Quizitor ask what was tha trouble an ah told him weren’t nothin ta worry bout.

He asked me for sum elfroot, an ah gave it to ‘im. Only 30 pieces, but he payed me two thousand in gold! We can keep the shack warm this winter, mumma. An tha Bann won be on our doorstep again anytime soon.

I shall be home directly. Give ma love to Northbert an tha sows.

your son Cuthbert

7. someone describing a time your OC hurt them

Codex Entry: Letter dated 19th Justinian, 9:28 Dragon

Harland,

The neighbor boy nearly killed Brian.

They were playing in the ‘pond’ near the Greeley estate (I would like to take a moment to point out that Brian claimed he had ‘eternal permission’ from you to play in that tic-ridden mud-hole. Why in the Maker’s name would you give him ‘eternal permission’ to do anything, let alone to swim in that disgusting puddle??). Apparently the youngest Trevelyan boy has magic. He froze their legs from their knees to their mid calves in the water, ‘by accident.’ There’s no ‘accidents’ with these mages, Harland.

The boys were stuck together out in the shallows for a full half hour, until one of our staff heard them hollering and came running. The ice was too thick for the children to break through, but the servants had them out in a matter of minutes. Apparently the Trevelyan boy also had burns on his arms from yet more magic.

I’m certain he was trying to trap Brian in that swamp long enough to summon a demon and possess him. Maker bless those servants for rescuing our sweet, innocent boy before that could happen.

The Bann and his wife have the good sense and basic, human decency to have that monstrous child of theirs carted off to the circle. Brian keeps insisting that the other boy had no knowledge of his own magic before the incident. Could you imagine? There is absolutely no conceivable way someone could harbor something as vile as magic within themselves and not feel tainted by it. The family must have known he was a mage at birth. That’s when they show signs of magic, is it not? Why allow him to live outside the circle for eleven whole years, if they knew? Such disgusting selfishness, on their part.

Please return home, promptly,

your loving wife,

Margreth

A note is attached to the letter and is addressed to Peter Trevelyan, of the Ostwick circle, dated 8th Drakonis, 9:36 Dragon:

Petey,

Found this in Father’s things. I’m sorry they had the story so wrong, and I’m still sorry you burned yourself trying to get us out. I shouldn’t have suggested melting the ice, but you were brave to try. I hope the circle has treated you well. You were always a sharp learner, so I’d imagine you’re doing just fine.

Can you have visitors? I’m in town for Father’s funeral, and I’d like to catch up, if you have the time.

Best,

Brian

12. your OC overheard while drunk

(it’s not really a conversation that’s “overheard,” but I think it still sort of works… also, Peter’s timeline is the one where I super-hardcore ship Cassaric. Just a heads-up)

Codex Entry: Letter found in the desk of Kirkwall’s Vicomte

Hawke,

Remember the first thing you said about the Inquisitor when you arrived at Skyhold? You hadn’t even seen the kid up close yet, but the very first time you spotted the back of his head from across the great hall, you called it: “bet he’s never been drunk, but he’s a giggler when he is.” Why that was your initial assessment, I’ll never know. But you hit the nail right on the head.

It’s been a year-and-a-half since we snuffed out Corypheus, and the kid’s already taken down a dragon god and a titan, since then. A fucking titan, Hawke. Lately, Thedas been throwing the Inquisitor parades, and balls, and dinners like they’re all going out of style. Ruffles is thrilled with it, and Boomer seems to suffer it with a decent amount of dignity. I think he’s just happy to have her beside him after a year spent Maker-knows-where.

Anyway, their party made its way up to the Marches this week to work out some land disputes between nobles in a couple of the rowdier city states. Boomer looked tense—more tense than usual—and to be honest, I’ve been pouting quite a lot since Cassandra headed out to train her new Seekers in the Hunterhorns. So, I dragged the kid out for a drink. Which turned into two drinks. Then six. And that was bout all it took.

He started giggling like a mad man. I wish you could have heard it, Hawke—it was the kind of sound that cleanses the soul.

“I’ve never been drunk before. It feels funny. Is it supposed t-*hic*?” That’s the first thing that came out of his mouth once the alcohol started to kick in, and I’m glad the hiccup that interrupted him kept him from being sick all down my front. I was wearing a new shirt. I wasn’t going to sacrifice it. Not even for the Inquisitor. “Thank you for being here for my first time. You’re a good friend, Varric. Very good. Josephine likes you, too—did you know that I love her, Varric?” he tried to nod his head, but it just sort of swiveled around like a lazy spinning top. “I do. So much that sometimes, she’s all I can think about, and it—*hic-giggle*—it makes me dizzy. She’s my happy… thing. Thought?… Yeah, the phrase is ‘happy thought’… I think?”

“That sounds about right, Boomer.”

“Thank you, Varric…” he patted me on the shoulder, then slumped against the bar, one arm dangling at his side, while the other curled around his tankard like a boozed-up python. “I’d like to marry her,” he smiled. “Or she can marry me, if she wants to. I just have to propose first. I think that’s why I’m so stressed. I shouldn’t be–whoa–” he started to slide off the bar top, so he clutched my arm for support. The man has a grip like a vice. “We’ve discussed it. It’s just asking that’s scary. Can the asking make things go wrong when you’d already do anything for each other? She loves me. I love her… I’ve said that… but I mean it.” He paused and went sort of crosseyed, lifting his head off the table to stare intently at my face. “Varric,” he said, very seriously, “did you know you have the moon *hic-giggle* on your nose?”

He booped my nose, Hawke.

Boomer fit in two choruses of Bad Children All Get Eaten on the way back to his inn. Even singing loudly, he has a decent voice. Just before we got to the door, he stopped me, hands on both of my shoulders, staring me down like what he was about to say could change my world. “You marry a lady because she makes you feel like you’re drunk and anything is possible… but maybe without all the sick.”

“’Sick?’ You haven’t even thrown-” I should have known better, Hawke. You say it hasn’t happened, and then it does, because the Maker is a sadist. Luckily, Boomer only coated my boots.

He’s a good kid. And I think he’s right about why you marry a lady.

I miss you, Hawke,

Varric

Next to the note is a receipt for a Kirkwall jeweler, and a memo:

Ask the Seeker to marry me.

(author’s note: I headcanon that Varric doesn’t end up proposing until the Exalted Council. So Cassandra’s confusion about a proposal is misplaced, not incorrect. The book he hands her? Engagement present. The longing look as the stand side-by-side watching the sunset? Intentional… no one will ever be able to convince me that the devs don’t ship Cassarric, too( ͡º ͜ʖ ͡º) )

#pentayaaaaasks #oc: peter trevelyan #pentayaaaaas trevs #pentayaaaaas writes

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notapaladin · 4 years ago

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harmonic orchestra gen fills (pt 2)

But Wait There’s More!! also on AO3, etc etc

1 (teomitl – victory song)

They cheer louder than they ever did for his brothers, and that should please him; he's certainly a greater Emperor than both of them put together, adding new territories to the Empire with every campaign. It does please him, but…

But instead he looks over the heads of his war council and out into the crowd below, where his wife and Acatl are standing, and he feels his other brother-in-law Neutemoc's presence solid as a wall in the army behind him. They are silent, but he doesn't need them to sing his praises. He can see it in their faces, in Mihmatini's little nod and Acatl's soft smile at seeing him unhurt and victorious.

He is Emperor, and the priests and warriors sing their victory songs for him—but his greatest accomplishment is to look at his family and know he's made them proud.

2 (acatl – are you gonna eat that?)

There are eyes on him. He makes a show of ignoring them, instead picking at the remains of his peppers and deliberately ignoring the honey-roasted agave worms that are his usual favorite snack. He isn't that hungry anymore, anyway.

One bite. Another. He keeps his eyes on his plate, not looking to either side. Any minute now…

A small hand tugs at his cloak, and a sweet and desperate-sounding voice that's clearly doing its best to sound polite pipes up, "Uncle Acatl, are you going to eat those?"

He chuckles and slides the rest of the plate over to his niece. "All yours."

3 (teomitl – water lilies)

Teomitl's patron goddess is She of the Jade Skirt, she who reigns over lakes and rivers and streams, and even though he can hear Acatl's and Mihmatini's voices in his head chiding him for his recklessness, it would be a terrible shame if he didn't sometimes take advantage of that fact. He can still drown, of course, so he has to come up for air sometimes, but that doesn't stop him.

He swims among the stems of water lilies like an otter, like the ahuitzotls that are his formal name, and marvels at how something so beautiful can come from mud.

4 (nezahual – jade green and ruby red)

There is jade in his ears and at his fingers, garlands of crimson flowers and coral around his neck, and Nezahual should be pleased. After all, is he not Revered Speaker of Texcoco? Is he not ruler of all he surveys? (Well, all he is presently surveying, at any rate—his fellow rules of Tenochtitlan and Tlacopan likely would not be impressed by him throwing his weight around.)

But he is frowning, and his messenger is quietly terrified. Moreso when he raises his voice and asks, "And you can swear to the accuracy of this information?"

"I can, my lord--"

"Great," he mutters, and then in a louder voice adds, "Bring me paper and a writing reed."

As much as he hates it, he has to draft a letter to Acatl—and where Acatl goes, Teomitl is sure to follow. There's nothing for it, though; if there are ghosts roaming his streets trying to eat people, his own city's High Priest of Mictlantecuhtli simply isn't up to the task.

5 (teomitl – learning from his mistakes)

His second attempt at the throne went much better, all things considered. He had waited. He had been patient. He had let Tizoc's reign stabilize, ignoring the deep cracks that threatened to shatter it each time his craven brother raged at another innocent he suspected of some plot (but he never suspected Teomitl, oh no, not his loyal little brother, his most skilled general). He had clenched his fist each time his fingers strayed towards a knife, each time he thought End it, end it here and now before he breaks our Empire apart—

And when Tizoc died choking on the fluids in his lungs (surprisingly not his fault, though he wouldn't rule out Mihmatini or Acamapichtli having gotten in some long-awaited revenge), he was ready to take the crown, and Tenochtitlan was ready for him.

(He wasn't ready for the first time one of the family members he actually liked called him Ahuitzotl, though. Hearing it from his subordinates? Fine. Hearing it from Acatl's lips? Not fine. To his loved ones, he'd rather be Teomitl until the day he died.)

6 (teomitl – an unusual phobia)

They were passing through the markets when Teomitl stopped, shuddering so expressively that his cloak rustled with it. By his side, Acatl paused. The trips to Tenochtitlan’s various markets served a dual purpose—making sure Teomitl could correctly identify needed spell materials as well as teaching him to haggle. While the first was something his student regularly passed with flying colors, the second...well, Teomitl was the Emperor’s brother, and nothing Acatl could try and impart regarding the value of frugality would change that no matter how hard he tried. Still, he’d never seen a reaction like that. Curious, he followed his student’s gaze.

And found his head turned away, every line of his body broadcasting that there was something he very much did not want to see in the other direction. But when Acatl turned to look, all he saw was an animal vendor hawking cages of monkeys.

Teomitl was still shuddering, and now that he studied him a bit closer he could see disgust and fear in his face.

“...Really?” It slipped out before he could stop himself.

Teomitl flinched and mumbled something. Acatl waited. He wasn’t disappointed.

“It’s the hands,” he muttered. “And the faces. They’re like—like little people, it’s creepy. Don’t you dare laugh!”

Acatl blinked at him. “I wasn’t going to.” In fact, he rather wanted to set a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but he refrained. He wasn’t sure how Teomitl would take that. “It was only a surprise.”

Teomitl’s eyes narrowed. Of course he’d take offense anyway. “Because I’m a warrior and Tizoc’s brother?”

He managed, somehow, not to smile. “Neutemoc is terrified of grasshoppers, so no. I would have thought nothing could be creepier than the ahuitzotls.”

“Ahuitzotls aren’t creepy!” Teomitl huffed. And then, at his raised eyebrow, amended it to, “...Not that creepy. At least they just mostly look like otters.”

“Terrifying giant otters with clawed hands on their tails that drown people.”

“...Fair point.” They walked on in silence, but Acatl didn’t miss the way Teomitl drew a little closer to him, as though his presence was a comfort. As though they were friends. It made something go warm in his chest.

After a moment he asked, “But really, grasshoppers? Why grasshoppers? They’re delicious.”

And that was a story Acatl had to tell, complete with hand gestures, and by the time they found the vendors they’d come for, Teomitl seemed to have quite forgotten his fear.

7 (acatl & acamapichtli – an unlikely friendship)

“You said you had no intentions of interfering!”

Acamapichtli barely dodges another of the creatures they’re fighting. He’s still not sure what they are—some horrible sorcerous creation, no doubt—but they’ve descended upon the house of Acatl’s brother Neutemoc before, and this time it’s while his children are at home. They’re gone now; he’s successfully covered their retreat. He dispatches the thing with a blow of his sword and takes a deep breath.

For the moment, they are safe. He looks over at Acatl—bloodstained, lightly wounded, and catching his breath over a creature’s corpse—and comments, “Because we are only temporary allies, and you’ve made it clear you trust me about as far as you can throw me.” And probably a good deal less.

Acatl straightens up, glaring at him. “After what you tried to do to my brother? Yes.”

He sighs, shaking his head. “Well, I’ve thought about that, and after...a significant amount of soul-searching, I came to the most wretched of realizations. One that might—no, probably will—curdle your very blood. You may wish to sit down.”

Acatl’s eyes narrow. “Get on with it.”

“You...are my friend.”

8 (acatl – performing an autopsy)

This is his favorite part of the job, honestly. Just him, an empty room, and a corpse.

Well. Not just a corpse. Nobody is ever just a corpse, even when their spirit’s gone on to whichever afterlife awaits them. The woman he’s currently leaning over, knife in hand, had in life been forty-year-old Ayotochtli of the Atempan calpulli, dead a few weeks after delivering her fifteenth child. Fifteenth. Her husband suspects foul play—she is his only wife, but his cousin has been angling for her spot in his life and might resort to poison to remove a rival—but Acatl wonders if it hadn’t just been exhaustion. He knows he’d see a lot fewer dead women if the priestesses of Xochiquetzal bothered to share their methods of avoiding childbirth with the common folk, and sometimes he hates them for it.

He closes his eyes and breathes out. Right. This is no place for anger. Ayotochtli died of something that made her tongue swell up and turn purple, made her leave her children and husband behind as she choked on her own blood, and he’s going to find out what. There’s only one way to discover the answer.

He lifts his knife and makes the first incision.

9 (mihmatini – the life of a guardian)

The magic of the Duality does not feel like fire. It looks as though it should—it’s hot and flickering, and it moves over her hands like flames. It doesn’t feel like water, either, for all that it’s a deep and cool and soothing shade of blue and ripples where the sun hits it.

No, she closes her eyes and draws the magic down and what she feels—what fills her from the inside out, surging like the tide until it threatens to drown her (but it won’t, because she is the Guardian now and the power of Ometeotl resides in her own skin)—is light. Pure, blessed light.

It’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever felt, and the most terrifying.

She’d wanted to be a housewife. She’d wanted to marry, to raise her own children. But fate has intervened (and gods, part of her hates Teomitl for it, for being the perfectly-placed virgin of Imperial blood they’d needed for the ritual to take place) and so this, instead, is to be her role. To guard the Sacred Precinct and the imperial family, keep the invisible boundaries, chant and lift her hands and call down this raging torrent of azure brilliance for the rest of her life.

She closes her eyes. Breathes in. Breathes out.

Mihmatini. A peasant’s daughter. Sister to Acatl, High Priest for the Dead, the Jaguar Knight Neutemoc, and the entirely ordinary women Icnoyotl, Yoltzin, Nelli, and Nematiliztli. Wife of Teomitl, the future Master of the House of Darts.

And Guardian of the Duality.

She opens her eyes, and the world around her is blue, pulsing light. And she smiles.

She can work with this.

10 (ceyaxochitl & acatl – behind the mask)

People don't like her, but that's fine. She's not here to be liked. She is here to defend the invisible boundaries between the Fifth World, the heavens, and the underworld. To keep the imperial family safe from magical harm. To ensure that the Duality, that sacred two-in-one force underpinning all the other gods, continues to bless them with life.

So no, it doesn't bother her that young Acatl distrusts and dislikes her. She's trying to push him to greater things, from the life of a poor and humble priest to the skull-mask of a High Priest of Mictlantecuhtli where she knows he'll excel. She's not trying to be his friend.

...But sometimes, when he is being particularly stubborn and self-deprecating, she really thinks he needs one.

11 (coyolxauhqui – believe me, darling, the stars were made for falling)

She's been torn to pieces, imprisoned under rock and mortar and living blood, but Coyolxauhqui, She of the Silver Bells, She of the Painted Bells, She of the Star Skirt, who once was the moon in the sky—she still has her power, and her followers, and her worshippers, even though no one mortal can hear her screams from underneath the Great Temple.

Free me! Love me! Unchain me, so that I may unleash my rage upon these usurpers!

The Mexica do not hear. They scurry around under the light of her brother's sun, and she drowns anew in their blood and hearts each morning, but they do not truly know what awaits them if they stop. She has been bound too long, and her rage is only a whisper to them.

But the stars hear—her beautiful sisters, all four hundred of them—and when the Temple cracks and she feels moonlight on her face—

She screams, and the stars fall for her in all their terrible glory.

12 (acatl & quenami – see how the brain plays around/and you fall inside a hole you couldn't see)

There is a razor's edge of obsidian at his throat, and Quenami is smiling, and Acatl—his eyes open, his eyes finally and irreversibly open—curses himself for a thousand different kinds of a fool. He'd thought, Surely, those who select the next Revered Speaker will want Tenochtitlan to prosper. He'd thought, There are star-demons in the palace and the blood of innocents drenching the earth, nobody could possibly be so short-sighted as to engage in politics at a time like this.

He'd thought wrong. Quenami's eyes are alight with smug, sick victory as he announces the charge of treason, and he isn't sure who he hates more—the other man, or himself. He's been blind, and now he's going to die for it.

He glances to where Teomitl is hedged in by swords and quickly shakes his head before the man's vibrating fury explodes. Tizoc-tzin probably won't kill his own brother, not if Teomitl's smart enough to keep his head down. If the boy stays quiet, he should be safe.

But then, he’s been wrong before.

13 (teomitl & acatl – i’d like to know why you are all alone while I'm lost at sea)

He has to do this. He has to. He's the Master of the House of Darts, heir apparent to the Mexica Empire; if he doesn't tear Tizoc from the mockery his brother has made of the throne, who will? Who will keep them together, otherwise?

You will break us, snarls Acatl-tzin.

I'm trying to save us, he snaps back, but the words that stick in his throat until he chokes on them are Help me. There's more locked behind them—I thought about this, please trust me, please respect me—but he's too afraid that his sister is right. That if he lays his stone heart at Acatl's feet, the man will leave it in the dust and walk away.

He's walking away now, alone. Heading off to stop a plague and protect the boundaries of the Fifth World—alone. And Teomitl, lost without his hand on his shoulder and his smile like the stars that guide his path, is letting him.

14 (teomitl – you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take)

"You'll never have a better chance than this," his sister snarled, and Teomitl met her gaze without flinching. She was right, of course; Tizoc had fled the city in fear of the plague and all the auguries said that here, now, today, would be the perfect time for him to take the throne. He only had to—

(go through Acatl and Mihmatini, and—)

(cut down all who opposed him and—)

(slay the people he loved more than his own breath, the only ones who loved him best in the world and—)

"I know," he said, and the look of triumph on her face was ugly. He erased it with his own smile. "But I'll make it happen, someday."

He laid down his bow and quit the field. There would be other shots.

(When Acatl smiled at him, he counted the day a victory after all.)

15 (acatl, chalchiuhnenetl, & teomitl – jazz age au)

As soon as Acatl sees the middle-aged woman sitting in the back room of the speakeasy—prim and proper and utterly unsuited for her smoky surroundings—he knows he's made a mistake coming here. But this is the last place anyone remembers seeing Teomitl enter, and if his protege is in danger he can't just sit back and do nothing. So instead of making a sensible retreat, he bows. "Forgive me for my intrusion, but I'm looking for someone. I was told he was here."

"We can't help you, detective." The burly men at her side shift threateningly.

He holds her gaze, though his fingers shake. "I think you can. I'm looking for Teomitl."

The barrel of a gun presses against the back of his skull. The woman smiles. "And you think you'll find him here?"

In that moment, he knows he's going to die. Teomitl, I'm sorry.

"No. He's mine. Aren't you, Acatl?" And he knows that voice, but not like this—it's never been this cold, this unfeeling. Part of him wants to cry. The rest of him is shaking, splintering apart with rage.

He's found Teomitl, but the way the expensively-dressed young man is looking at him like an unfortunate obstacle says he's lost him long before that.

16 (teomitl & nezahual – river of perfume, river of wine)

Nezahual hummed contentedly as he settled back onto his pile of jaguar pelts. "You see, Teomitl? This is the sort of life you ought to be focusing on, instead of charging across half the sea-ringed world under your brother's banners. He'll be dead soon enough, and then you can focus on ruling. Why not enjoy your station while you can?"

Teomitl closed his eyes, counted to ten, and allowed himself ten seconds' serious fantasizing about shoving the Revered Speaker of Texcoco off the barge. The man's concubines would probably fish him out eventually. "We can't all be you, Nezahual-tzin."

"That doesn't mean you can't live a little!"

Someone had filled Teomitl's cup with wine. He thought about the remainder of the trip ahead of them, thought about the need to not cause any diplomatic incidents, and drained it to the dregs.

17 (acatl – working through the cold)

The dry season always turned the nights cold, but he didn't feel it, not really. Oh, his limbs shook, and in a detached away he registered that his fingers were freezing, but it didn't matter. It wasn't a problem.

Acatl took one breath, another, and slashed both his earlobes with the impossibly sharp edge of his ritual knife. Even the hot blood was only warm for an instant before it too turned to a river of ice.

The grave-chill of Mictlan filled his lungs until he almost drowned in it, fathomless black nothing hollowing him out to bone-chimes and dry dead skin, and he inhaled. No, he was the High Priest of Mictlantecuhtli, and nothing so banal as the weather could be a problem when he was accustomed to this.

18 (mihmatini & teomitl – fear of needles)

"You're not telling me, on the night before your coronation, that you're scared of needles."

Now her husband is flushed and defensive, and she feels a little bad. Not much—Teomitl is a warrior, used to shedding his own blood in devotion to the gods, and the emerald septum piercing that will mark his ascension as Revered Speaker can't be that much worse—but a little. Before she can apologize, though, he huffs, "It's not the pain that bothers me. It's that Nezahual is going to be the one with the needle."

Ah, yes. The Revered Speaker of Texcoco is the one who performs that particular function at the imperial coronation, and Teomitl's never gotten along with him. "Maybe you should have been nicer to him."

"Mihmatini!"

She smiles. "You'll be fine. I'll be waiting for you when it's over, and if he's hurt you I'll kick him down the temple steps."

"...That does help," he mutters. "Thanks."

"And I won't say anything if you cry."

"Mihmatini!"

19 (acatl, teomitl & mihmatini – zombie apocalypse au)

"I changed my mind," Mihmatini announced. "Teomitl, you should have killed your brother when you had the chance. At this point, I'd hand you the knife."

Teomitl sighted down the shaft of his arrow and loosed, piercing another shambling horror through the skull. "It's not too late, you know."

Acatl gritted his teeth and tuned them both out. Yes, bringing Tizoc back to life had left a hole between their world and Mictlan. Yes, killing him might close it. But that was something they could worry about when the immediate threat of hordes of the risen dead weren't throwing themselves against every ward the Temple of Mictlantecuhtli could muster.

He lifted one bloodstained hand and traced a complicated series of glyphs in the air. There. That should hold them. For a little while, at any rate.

20 (acatl – apocalypse au)

The Fifth World ends in screams and the shaking of the earth under their feet as Tezcatlipoca—Tepeyollotl, the Mountain Heart, the great jaguar—strides the land and roars his triumph from the top of the Great Temple. The Fifth Sun is falling. He will be the sixth. He will be the sixth, and Acatl has failed to stop it.

"You haven't," Teomitl says. His face is streaked with ash and blood and one arm is heavily bandaged, but he's alive. They're all alive, him and his family, and they're huddled in the ruins of the Duality House as they try to figure out what to do. "We can try again."

"Try what? To stop him?" Acatl shakes his head, feeling the words as bitter bile on his tongue. "How do you stop a god in the flesh?"

"We've done it before," Teomitl says, and smiles as though that will make everything better.

For once in Acatl's life, it doesn't help.

#obsidian and blood #acatl #teomitl #mihmatini #nezahual #ceyaxochitl #hungry gods #paladin writes stuff

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