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pretendingboyfriends · 5 years ago

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I Promise - V

A/N: WOW OK HI THIS HAS TAKEN SO LONG TO FINISH! i’m gonna be honest, i really fucking hate this series because of the stress it has caused me and that’s one of the reasons why this is the last part. I WOULD ALSO LIKE TO GIVE MY AMAZING FRIEND WILLA ( @bopbopstyles ) A HUGE THANK YOU FOR GHOST WRITING SOME OF THE SCENES I WAS ESPECIALLY FRUSTRATED ON!!! this truly would not be what it is without willa and i’m so thankful :,)

word count: 6.6k+

warnings: violence & smut

The finale

The gentle chirping of birds and soft dusting of morning sunlight were the first two things that my brain could register the next morning. Then reality set in and the seemingly blissful morning shattered into the realization that I wasn’t in my own bed.

The images from the night before flashed across my mind and I quickly sat up, a thin layer of sweat sheened across the expanse of my skin.

“Alex,” I murmured, turning to his sleeping figure lying on the bed beside me.

He didn’t move. “Alex, wake up!” I said with a much louder tone than before, reaching over and nudging his shoulder. He grunted and squirmed at my touch, rolling onto his back and squinting up at me.

“Well, good morning.” He mumbled with a small smile, pushing himself up onto one elbow and wrapping his other arm around my bare waist to tug me against him.

“Oh my god,” I groaned, pushing off of the bed and frantically searching the floor for my clothes. “Alex, it’s morning! I can’t be here!” I exclaimed, yanking my crumpled dress from the floor and scrambling to pull it over my body.

He watched me with an amused smile as he scratched his bare chest and yawned. “It’s still early, you can just tell them you went on a walk.”

I scoffed and shook my head at him, finding my knickers and quickly sliding them up my legs underneath my dress. He sat up completely, throwing his legs over the side of the mattress, bare feet landing on the hardwood floor. I groaned and frenetically pulled my shoes on, turning to look at him as he made his way towards me.

“Come by later, yeah?” He asked, not at all phased by my frantic inclination and reaching forward to easily wind one strong arm around my waist, pulling my body flush against his. My legs nearly turned to mush at the sound of his deep voice and I huffed out a frustrated breath.

“I have plans with James this afternoon,” I murmured, avoiding his eye contact.

“Are you going to tell him?”

I cringed at his insinuation and pried myself from his grasp, turning away from him. “I-I don’t know…”

“What do you mean?” He snapped, “You can’t just go back to him, not after everything that happened last night!”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” I spun back around to face him, “I can’t just show up at his house and break the news casually! He has been nothing but kind and loving towards me and I can’t hurt him like that.”

“So you’re just going to forget about the things you said to me last night?” He questioned, his voice lowering to a slightly more hushed tone as he stepped closer to me.

I shook my head with a frustrated sigh, murmuring, “I have to go.” before stumbling back to the door.

I felt tears stinging at my eyes as I reached for the doorknob and then his arms were around me, gently pulling me back against his warm chest.

“Don’t go back to him. Please…” He whispered, tightening his strong arms around my waist as he buried his face into my neck.

A tear fell down my cheek and I sniffled, “I don’t know what else to do, Alex.”

He gently turned my body in his arms, caressing my face between both of his hands and carefully wiping the moisture from my cheeks. “You’ve got to tell him,” He whispered softly, “You owe him the truth.”

Alex was right. I did owe him the truth. I couldn’t just let him believe that I loved him when it wasn’t true, that wasn’t the type of person I was. I had chosen to marry him for all the wrong reasons, and it needed to come to an end.

I sighed and ran my hands over my face dispiritedly. “You’re right,”

Alex dropped his hands to his sides as I did so and gave me a small, knowing smile.

“I know you well enough to know that you care about the people in your life. And I know you don’t ever want to hurt anyone--especially not James, but you’re only making things worse in the long run by not being completely honest with him.”

I nodded in defeat, “I’m sorry. I-you’re right, you’re right.”

“I know I am.” He leaned in and pressed his lips against my own for a moment before his lips gradually travelled down my jaw and neck.

I still hadn’t fully gotten used to the way his lips felt against my skin and an unsolicited whimper decamped from my pink lips. The vibration of his own growl thrummed against the column of my throat and I weakly pushed against his chest, refusing to fall back into his enticing ways.

“I really have to go, Alex.” I breathed weakly and he finally released his hold on me, pouting his lip pitifully. I murmured a small goodbye, gently squeezing his hand before I pivoted on my heel and stepped into the hallway.

The walk back to my house felt eons longer than the night before. The only thing I could think about was how I was going to tell James. I didn’t want to hurt him, he didn’t deserve that type of pain, but keeping it from him wouldn’t be any better.

I finally set foot onto my front porch, breathing out a long sigh of relief as I reached for the doorknob, quickly scurrying inside and successfully avoiding any sort of collision with my mother or father.

The nearly scalding water cascaded down my naked body as I stood in the shower. I wrapped the small towel that hung over the faucet around a bar of soap, scrubbing my skin with it slowly as the previous night replayed in my mind over and over again. I watched the cloth rub against my skin to create thick suds and my fingers began to trace back the metaphorical steps that Alex’s hands had taken that night, gently caressing the dull ache between the apex of my thighs.

I had never imagined my first time to be that way. I had always imagined it to be with Alex, that didn’t change, but it didn’t feel anything like my imagination could levy. Somehow, it felt better.

My sexual experience was extremely lacking, like most girls my age. Though I had moments where my fingers would wander south beneath the warm blankets of my bed in the dark hours of the night, my thoughts filled with images of Alex, my own techniques couldn’t compare to the way Alex made me feel that evening. He had this undeniable confidence in every movement he made like he had practiced them to perfection.

As I stepped out of the shower, winding a towel around my torso, I began to worry about the outcome of telling James the truth. He was a kind man, from what I had seen, but there was no telling what his reaction would be to something like that.

James and I had plans in the coming hour and I was beyond nervous, especially because he hadn’t told me where we were going or what we were going to do. I felt physically ill just thinking about what I would say to him.

I pulled myself together, primping myself to near perfection as I rehearsed what I might say to him. I had to go about the matter delicately, of course. He had only just proposed and was under the full impression that I wanted to marry him, so I would have to tell him gently.

After an hour of fixing my hair and applying some minimal makeup, I slipped myself into a nice, but comfortable, dress.

I nervously paced in the kitchen as I awaited James’ arrival. My heart was pounding in my chest, hands twisting into the skirt of my dress tightly. I rehearsed the words I planned to say to him again and again in my head, my lips moving of their own accord.

“Y’alright there, darling?”

I spun around quickly at the sound of James’ voice, my heart nearly leaping from my chest, my hand pressing against it quickly as if to prevent that from happening. “James,” I breathed, “You startled me.”

He chortled in response, stepping towards me and reaching out his hand to grasp mine. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He hummed through a chuckle, tugging me forward and sliding his other arm around my waist.

He gazed down at me, frowning at my expression. “What’s got you all worked up, my love?”

“It’s nothing, really, I’m alright.” I lied, shaking my head and forcing a smile.

It seemed to have convinced him because he just smiled back and said, “Well, are you ready to go?”

I nodded silently and he lazily looped his arm around my waist before leading me out to his car. “Where are you taking me?” I asked as he opened the car door for me and held my hand to help me slide into the passenger seat.

“It’s a surprise,” He hummed, wiggling his eyebrows at me with a mischievous smirk before he jogged around the car to the other side and slipped into the driver seat.

It was a beautiful day. Fluffy, white clouds painted the baby blue sky, the sun beaming down on the earth with a soft warmth. If I wasn’t so nervous, I would’ve enjoyed the beautiful weather, but the anxiety bubbling in the pit of my stomach prevented me from feeling any sort of comfort from its beauty as I sat in the passenger seat of James’ car.

He reached over with his left hand and slipped his fingers between my own, tugging my hand between the two of us as he drove. He turned onto a familiar gravel road, encased with trees and I sucked in a breath, my heart skipping a beat and my face nearly turning white. He noticed my sudden breath and turned his head with a frown, “What’s wrong?”

I cleared my throat and shook my head, smoothing my free hand over my skirt. “Nothing… I- It’s nothing.”

He stayed quiet in response, glancing back at me every few moments to study my expression, but he didn’t push it.

After a few agonizing minutes of driving down the gravel path, we came upon a very familiar clearing. Images of Alex and I playfully frolicking on the green grass, rolling around on the old picnic blanket, giggling and squealing appeared in my mind. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes and I quickly turned away from James and dabbed at the corners of my eyes to collect the moisture from my skin. Just seeing our special spot reminded me of how much I loved Alex.

James pulled into a shaded area right through the entrance of the clearing and parked the car. “What do you think?” He asked, letting go of my hand to turn the car off and angle his body towards me.

I faked a small smile, “I love it.”

He smiled back, evidently content with himself as he reached over and pressed a kiss to the back of my hand. He quickly stepped out of the car and walked around the back to open my door for me, assisting me in sliding out of the passenger side. I thanked him quietly and gazed out over the field silently as James gathered a blanket and basket of food from the trunk of the car.

We set everything up under the shade of a tree, stretching our legs out on the soft blanket just like when Alex would take me there, but this time I didn’t want to be there. It was the last place I wanted to be and he was the last person I wanted to be with.

“I brought us some fresh fruit and champagne,” He hummed, pulling a large bowl out of the basket; a bottle of expensive champagne; and two glass flutes, carefully placing them onto the blanket.

He poured the two of us champagne soon after removing the cork from the bottle and gingerly placed the flute into my hand with a content smile.

“Everything looks delicious. Thank you, darling.” I replied quietly, taking the small flute of champagne he had poured for me from his hand.

“I wanted to celebrate our engagement, you know?” He smiled, bringing the glass up to his lips and gazing into my eyes.

I took a sip from my own to avoid his eye contact, nearly gulping down the entire thing in one swig. I could feel my hands start to get clammy and slippery, so I placed the glass back onto the blanket and quickly wiped my palms against my skirt, nodding. “Y-yeah… it’s really nice.”

He carefully looped his arm around my waist and tugged me closer to him, being careful not to spill the champagne as he dragged me across the blanket. He situated me so that I sat beside him facing the opposite direction, our thighs pressed together. He leaned over me slightly, one hand resting against the blanket on the other side of my legs and the other coming to rest on my cheek. He leaned in and captured my lips between his own, immediately tilting his head to the side to deepen the kiss. I reluctantly kissed him back, but my hands remained in my lap, fingers gripping the fabric of my skirt nervously.

James’ kisses were much different than Alex’s. Alex was gentle and passionate and made my knees weak with his technique, but James didn’t ease into it at all, he moved too quickly like he was in a rush to devour my face. It may have been appealing to other women, but it wasn’t to me.

Eventually, his hands began to wander from their initial positions, sliding down to my waist and the inside of my thigh and inching further beneath the skirt of my dress. I squirmed uncomfortably and pulled away from him, our lips separating before I reached down and pushed his hand away.

“W-what are you doing?” I breathed, pushing myself backwards away from him and frowning at him.

He leaned forward and brushed his hand against mine, “I thought we could maybe do something more than just snog,” He leaned in and tried to press his lips against mine once again, but I turned away before he could, his lips landing on my cheek.

I shook my head and quickly shoved him away before I scrambled to my feet. “James, I-”

“We’re engaged now, Y/N!” He huffed, pushing himself up onto his feet and stepping towards me angrily. “Everyone our age does it!”

“I don’t want that!” I continued to shake my head, glancing back up at him. “I-I don’t even know if I want this!”

His facial expression changed from irritated to confused as soon as I finished speaking and his tone dropped to a whisper, “What?”

“I can’t do this anymore, James. I can’t marry you.”

“What- I don’t understand. Why?”

“I’m in love with someone else,” I huffed, stepping back once more as a gust of wind blew through the air and thunder rumbled in the distance. I had been so caught up in everything that I hadn’t noticed the cumulonimbus quickly advancing toward us in the sky. The sun was almost completely shielded by the dark clouds thunder continuing to roar louder and louder.

“What, so you just used me this entire time? Led me to think that you actually loved me?” He garbled, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. A clap of thunder pierced through the air, causing me to flinch at its sudden loudness. A few scattered droplets of rain turned into profuse pelting as we stood and I could feel the thin fabric of my dress start to cling to my skin from the moisture.

“James- I’m sorry, I can’t.” I whispered, shaking my head and stumbling backwards slightly before turning away. A sob shook through my entire body as I began to walk towards the gravel path that we entered through, James screaming at me in the distance, but I couldn’t bear to look back at him. I would rather walk all the way back home in the rain than have to say anything more to him. So that was exactly what I did.

I trudged down the miry road, my tears combining with the droplets of rain pelting my face. The makeup I had applied earlier in the day was long gone, the only evidence of it being faded black streaks melted into my skin.

I stretched my cardigan over my shoulders, holding my arms to my chest in an attempt to warm myself as much as possible. The soaked through fabric wasn’t much of a help, though, my teeth continuing to chatter uncontrollably in the dropping temperature. Sobs continued to wrack my body and as much as I wanted to be overjoyed at the ridding of James, I wasn't.

Why was leaving James behind so hard? Alex was the person I thought about night and day, James just a passing thought every once and a while. And yet leaving him behind hurt more than I could’ve expected. But maybe it was because the pressure of his hand on my skin burned in a way Alex’s never did, or because of the tone of his voice when he yelled at me that we were engaged when in my heart it was Alex who should have owned the ring on my finger.

I looked down at the band on my ring finger and it felt so wrong. My feet stopped walking and I pulled at the metal, the ring digging into my skin and having trouble getting off.

“Get..off,” I said, pulling at the metal, tears dripping down my cheeks, struggling to free myself of him in the last way he still held onto me.

Finally, it popped off my finger and I held the small, metal ring in my hand, the thing I’d always dreamed of having. But James wasn’t the person it was supposed to be with.

A part of me wanted to throw it into the street, let the rain wash it down the drains and the aquifer absorb it. But it belonged to James. Maybe he would want it back? That was probably the right thing to do.

It’s not like I’d ever gone back on a proposal before. What was the decorum?

Before I could even answer my own question a sudden, loud honking of a car horn startled me from behind and I quickly spun around, squinting into the bright headlights.

“Y/N?” Alex’s voice called as his tall figure stepped out of the vehicle pulled over on the side of the road. A relieved sob left my chest and I stepped towards him, immediately throwing my arms around him once I was close enough. He staggered backwards at the force of my body colliding with his but wrapped his arms around me reflexively.

Our embrace didn’t last very long, Alex pulling away first and quickly ushering me into the passenger seat of his car.

“What’re you doing out here?”

I slid into the seat, sopping dress sticking to the leather, and ran my hands through my hair in an attempt to wring some of the water out of it. “I was with James,” I answered, struggling to find the words to explain what had happened. “I-I told him.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “Wait-” He ran around to the other side of the car, sliding into the driver’s seat, the sound of the rain thudding on the glass filling the distance between us. “What happened?”

My eyes lifted from where his hands were holding mine, my fingers still tightly clutching the ring in my palm. “He-he took me to our spot; set up a picnic just like you always did for us,” I started, sniffling and reaching up to wipe my nose with my sleeve. “And everything was fine until he started kissing me. He tried to put his hands on me and when I told him to stop he got so angry like I owed it to him. That’s when I broke a-and told him I can’t marry him because I don’t love him.”

He nodded slowly, turning to rest back against the seat for a moment to take in what I had just told him. “Where?”

“Alex-what?”

“Where did he put his hands on you?” He breathed.

“It’s really not a big deal,” I replied, placing my hand over his.

He quickly yanked his hand away, “Where did he touch you, Y/N?”

“Beneath my skirt,” I murmured, gazing down at my shaky hands resting in my lap. I could feel him staring at me, but I didn’t return his gaze.

A few moments passed by as I waited for him to say something but the moment never came. Without a single word, he started the car and pulled back onto the road towards my house. The entire car ride not a word was spoken, the only sound that filled my ears was the pattering of the rain against the car. I could sense how angry he was through the silence, but I didn’t dare say another word. This wasn’t a matter that could be consoled.

We finally arrived at my house and the brief conversation I had with mother came to the forefront of my mind. She and Thomas were out.

I looked over at Alex after he parked the car and I could see his chest rising and falling heavily as he stepped out of the car and walked around to my side to help me out.

“C’mon, need to get you dry so you don’t catch something.” He murmured as he wrapped an arm around my waist and I leaned into the warmth of his body. My teeth chattered against each other from the cold, soaked fabric sticking to my skin as the rain continued to pour from the sky.

We made it to my door quickly, but as soon as we set foot on the porch, James’ car came barreling down the road, coming to a screeching halt right outside my house.

“Is that-”

“James.” I breathed.

“Go inside, Y/N,” Alex said, his jaw clenched, eyes not leaving the car idling in my driveway. I shook my head, though, refusing to leave him alone with James. Who knew what he would do to him. “Y/N, please.”

But I held firm, even as James threw open the door to his car, his eyes narrowing at Alex and I on my porch. “I’m not letting you hurt him.”

Alex spit out a laugh that made my heart tighten. “He touched you,” his words were harsh enough to shatter glass. “I should hurt him.”

But before I could respond, James’ voice cut through the storm. He was practically racing up the path, a fury in his eyes that rivaled the one I had seen only an hour earlier. “Y/N!”

“You have got some nerve showing up here,” Alex said harshly.

“Who the fuck are you?” James seethed, eyes darting between Alex and I, the way Alex held me, arms still firmly clenched around my middle. “Is this the bloke you’re leaving me for?” I had barely even lifted my head from Alex’s chest, the cold biting at my still wet skin.

Alex released me from his grasp, stepping towards James. “One and the same,” He snarled, puffing his chest out protectively.

“I’m her fiancé,” James countered, voice rising as he looked back at me. “As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, she loves me. I know she does.”

“You’re nothing to her. You were never anything to her. It’s always been me.” Alex spat nudging James’ chest with one hand, causing him to stumble back a little.

“You--” James breathed out, and then all of a sudden they were moving at each other, arms winding back and hitting skin and bone. I was cold without Alex’s body heat, but I was even more frozen in place at the sight of them going after each other.

James was struggling to stay upright as Alex’s fists collided with his jaw over and over again, all of his built up anger and resentment releasing with every blow of his fist. I knew he was strong, too, I’d seen the muscles he had developed after months at war. James was no match for him. I heard a groan and James staggered back, trying to find his footing on the gravel path.

Alex was going to kill him.

“Stop!” I screamed, running towards them, caution thrown to the wind. I grabbed at Alex’s shoulders, trying to tug him back as he bent to where James had fallen to the ground, blood rushing from his nose, red marks scattered across his jaw. But Alex threw his shoulders back to get me off, his fists reconnecting with James’s jaw. Alex pounded James’ face, fists flying one after the other. I couldn’t watch it any longer. A part of me still held a fragment of fondness and care for James and I couldn’t continue watching Alex hurt him. “Alex, stop! Please!” The desperation in my voice was evident as I grabbed at his biceps, using all of my strength to hold him back, but he merely tugged his arm from my grasp.

“Go inside,” Alex said to me, holding James’s head down with one hand and whipping around to look at me. “Get out of here.”

I didn’t move. Instead, I mustered all the strength in my body and wrenched Alex back, pulling at his arms. I managed to get him off of James, who immediately scrambled to his feet, ready to attack. But I moved between them, arms spread wide in front of Alex so he didn’t retaliate. “James, I need you to leave,” I said, trying to keep my voice measured so he would listen to me as the rain poured down onto us unceasingly.

“But he attacked me!” James screeched, pointing at Alex who was breathing heavily behind me. “He’s the one who should leave--he’s an animal, Y/N.”

I shook my head. “Go, James, please!” He didn’t move so I did the only thing I could think of to get him to drive away. I wrenched off the engagement ring he had given me, the metal cutting deep into my skin as I pulled it off my finger. Throwing it towards the car, the metal clattering on the wet gravel, I gave James a hard look. “Leave.”

James stumbled back, mumbling expletives as he picked the ring up off the ground. I watched him get into the car and back out, speed building as he whipped the car into drive and drove away.

Alex’s breathing had slowed, albeit not enough. When I turned back around, his eyes were already on mine, searching them to make sure I was okay. “Let’s go inside,” I told him, taking his arm and pulling it over my shoulder, so I could help him up the steps to the door.

I led him into the kitchen, pulling a chair from beneath the table for him to sit at. He sat compliantly without a single word, watching as I dampened a small rag and began to dab away at his bloody knuckles, standing between his legs. He opened his mouth to say something, but I stopped him, “Don’t. Let’s just- I don’t want to talk about it.”

He nodded but I could feel his gaze trained on me as I carefully rubbed some ointment onto his broken skin. I repeated the same steps with his other hand, wrapping both of them with a little bit of gauze. Then, I moved on to his face injuries. I gingerly placed my hand at the back of his neck and tilted his head upward to help me find the small bruises and cuts were scattered along his face, but they were nothing compared to the welts Alex had left on James’ face. He winced when I wiped the blood around his nose and I stopped, mumbling a small “Sorry”.

“No, s’fine, keep going. S’just a little tender.”

I nodded, paying close attention to the pressure I applied to that area, making sure I didn’t hurt him again before I moved on to the small cuts along his jaw. He continued to watch me closely, his piercing virescent eyes hard to ignore at such a close proximity. And as much as I wanted to be angry at him for fighting James like he did, I couldn’t stop thinking about the night before. His hands exploring every inch of my body as his lips seared my skin. The long, hard thrust of his hips against my own, taking me so deep and fulfilling every desire I had for him.

My heart began to flutter in my chest as the night replayed in my head and my breathing became noticeably heavier. I was so in my own mind, I hadn’t noticed the way Alex’s chest heaved like my own as he watched me, his nostrils flaring with every inhale.

I slowly placed the damp cloth onto the table beside me before I finally made eye contact with him. His eyes were dark, filled with lust as they bored into my own. The intensity of his stare nearly caused my knees to buckle and I steadied myself by gripping the fabric of his damp button up. Clearly, we had both long forgotten our wet clothes.

“Haven’t stopped thinking about last night,” Alex muttered, breaking the tense silence as his hands rested on my waist. “And I get the feeling you haven’t either.”

I let out a long, shaky breath, before grabbing the supplies resting on the table and prying myself from his grasp. I silently began to put the supplies away, ignoring the dull ache between my thighs and the loud thumping of my heart in my chest.

I didn’t hear a sound coming from him until a few moments later when he stood directly behind me, the heat of his body radiating onto my back.

“I miss the way your lips taste,” He whispered directly into my ear as he towered over me. His front pressed against my back slowly, his right arm winding around my waist. I breathed out a shaky breath, dropping the rag into the sink with a heavy thud before my fingers gripped the edge of the porcelain sink.

A small part of me was still angry with him, but a bigger part of me craved to feel his lips against mine again; his hands roaming my body fervently as he whispered filth into my ear.

“I can hear your heartbeat...” He murmured, my body melting into his at the sound of his voice. “Do you want me?”

The question lingered in the air for a few moments and then I turned to face him, my body still wedged between his chest and the edge of the counter. I gazed up into his eyes almost pleadingly, my hands resting on his chest because of the close proximity.

“Yes.”

And with that, he kissed me. He leaned down, wrapping both of his arms around my waist, pressing my body against his, melding his soft, warm lips with mine. My hands drifted upwards, landing on the sides of his face to pull him closer to me, the edge of the counter digging into my lower back.

Alex gently slid me to the side, away from the sink before lifting me onto the counter and pressing himself between my legs without our lips breaking contact. I looped my legs around his waist, fingers curling into his hair desperately as he swiped his tongue along my bottom lip and pressed his hands behind me on the counter so that he was leaning into me.

A small whimper left my lips and he grunted in response, one hand sliding down the length of my thigh, halting at the very edge of my, partially dry, skirt.

“I’ve been thinkin’,” He breathed into my lips, “I wanna know what you taste like.”

I sucked in a breath, pulling my mouth from his for a moment to make eye contact with him. He chased my lips as soon as I moved away, his eyes soon flickering up to mine. “C’mon, baby.” He whispered, fingers idly tracing figures into the outside of my thigh beneath my skirt.

“Bedroom-” I nearly choked, pushing at his chest frantically to let me down from the counter. He chuckled and moved to the side allowing me to slide off of it and grab his hand, yanking him towards my room.

As we both entered my room, I caught a glimpse of my appearance in the vanity mirror. My hair fell limply along my shoulders and my face was completely bare of any makeup. My dress was heavily wrinkled and I could clearly envision a scolding from my mother, but that was the last thing I wanted to be thinking about at that moment.

Soon, Alex had my lying back against the mattress, my hair fanned out on the pillows as he hovered above me, hips flush against mine. I writhed and whimpered beneath him as his teeth sunk into my neck, his arms resting by my head to keep him grounded above me.

“Thought about you all day,” He growled, lifting his head from my neck to pepper kisses along my jaw, setting a path to my lips. I couldn’t find the strength inside of me to respond, my brain virtually mush at his skilled touch and the way all of him filled my senses. All I could do to respond was breathe out a loud moan, bucking my hips up into his which caused him to chuckle.

He began to slide down my body, dark eyes glued to mine, filled with a lustful desire for me. His hands wandered beneath my skirt, bunching the fabric around my waist at first to expose myself to him. He pressed feather-like kisses to my stomach, goosebumps dotting my skin as I tried to contain my squirms.

Every inch of my body burned with desire for him and that desire only grew with the passing moments. He was taking his time. Watching me unravel; watching me squirm for his touch. He wanted me to beg him.

“May I take this off?” He asked, referring to the dress now wrinkled at my hips. I quickly nodded compliantly, helping him tug the fabric from my skin and toss it into a damp heap on the floor. I was left in my plain undergarments, nothing special about them, but Alex looked down at me like I was an angel sent from heaven, clothed in silk and practically glowing from head to toe.

I watched as he curled his nimble fingers beneath the waistband of my knickers and dragged them down my legs slowly. Wedging my bottom lip between my teeth, I kicked the fabric from my ankles, allowing the small garment to tumble onto the floor. Alex was quick to push himself down to the edge of the bed, pressing his front into the mattress as he situated himself between my trembling legs.

I watched him timidly, lifting myself onto my elbows for a better angle and he smirked before turning his head to press a soft kiss to the supple skin of my inner thigh. Just feeling the heat radiating from his body so close to where I needed him made me feel weak and my arms gave way, my upper body collapsing onto the mattress once again.

His kisses multiplied by the second, content hums vibrating against me over and over again with every press of his soft, warm lips. It was heaven, truly. I felt as if I was floating; like I had left my body and was watching everything unfold from above.

“Please-” I sputtered helplessly, clawing at the duvet beneath me as my thighs began to clamp around his head. He quickly pried them back open, sliding both of his arms around them to hold me in place before he glanced up at me.

He licked his lips when he made eye contact with me, “What was that?”

I huffed in frustration, “Alex, please.”

“Okay, okay.” He hummed, leaning forward and finally swiping his tongue against me. I gasped at the foreign feeling, thighs itching to snap shut as he delved further into my dripping sex. His eyes never flickered from me, focused on the way I threw my head back and writhed from his technique. His lips wrapped around my clit, mouth skillfully suckling at the swollen bud as I fell apart beneath him. My fingers clawed into his short hair, tugging as much of it as I could into my fist which caused a growl to vibrate against me.

His large hands gripped my thighs tightly as he devoured my wet, supple lips and the bed began to rock back and forth ever so slightly from the thrusting of his hips into the mattress. I mustered up enough strength to prop myself up and watched as he lifted his head from between my legs, lips and chin dripping with my arousal. “Can’t get enough of you, baby.”

He quickly buried his face into me once again, this time holding nothing back, stroking his tongue over every inch of me, nibbling at my clit before sucking it between his lips harshly.

His name fell from my lips over and over like a mantra as he coaxed me to my first orgasm. Low hums and groans were emitting from deep within his throat as he pleasured me, the vibrations heightening every feeling I had. His hips were thrusting against the mattress desperately, needy for some sort of relief.

I expected him to pull away from me after a few moments, but his movements never stopped. He continued to lick and suck and devour me fervently like he was starving and I was his first meal in months.

I began to writhe and squirm as the sensitivity between my legs became too intense, my sweaty thighs attempting to clamp around his head while my hands weakly pushed at his head. I could feel my second orgasm approaching rapidly and my moans grew uncontrollably louder. My head was thrown back against the mattress as I bucked my hips up against his mouth, desperate for my unravelling.

Soon, my back was arching into itself once again and I called out as the second intense orgasm washed over me. Alex choked out a guttural groan against me, his movements becoming sloppier and less calculated as his eyes fluttered shut.

A few silent moments passed before he peered back up at me breathlessly.“Y’alright?”

I nodded, laying back against the mattress to catch my breath.

“Shit-” Alex muttered and I peeked up at him from beneath heavy eyelids.

“What?”

He chuckled nervously, running his hands over his face. “Ruined my trousers.”

I frowned and glanced down at the crotch of his slacks, immediately blushing at the decently sized wet spot directly over his bulge. “Just from- just from that?”

He nodded sheepishly and I propped myself up on the bed. “Do you want to borrow some of Thomas’ old clothes?”

“Probably should,” He chortled, running his fingers through his hair.

After I fetched Alex a pair of Thomas’ old trousers and he had successfully freshened up, we found ourselves tangled among the sheets, basking in each other’s company. He pressed soft, chaste kisses to my lips every few moments as our fingers interlaced.

“Promise me you’ll be mine forever?” He asked after what seemed like hours of silence.

He gazed into his viridescent eyes, lifting my hand to cup his cheek affectionately as our noses brushed against each other. “I promise.”

ok so yes i know there is lot missing and there could be room for another part BUT i decided to leave it up to your own interpretation. i felt so overwhelmed with the lack of explanation in this series so i felt the best thing to do was to just leave it as it is. as always, i hope you enjoyed and pls pls pls do not hesitate to send me feedback!! <3

taglist: @xena-styles , @httpsmoony , @summer-evening-harry , @cock-a-doodely-doo

#harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry smut #my writing #i promise #one direction fanfiction #harry x y/n #harry styles x y/n #alex dunkirk #alex dunkirk fanfic #alex dunkirk smut #harry styles dunkirk #harry styles alex

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jeonggukieandcream · 5 years ago

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Golden curls and a devilish smile

Request: Aw, something sweet maybe like... a Disney Movie Marathon? Where I call him Princess SINderella, like we said some time ago? Awww it’d be so cute and fluffy oofff ~ @ravenrainy

A/N: Happy birthday, dear!!!! I hope you have a wonderful day, a prosperous new year, and I wish you all the very best!! You’ve come so far and I’m so very proud of you. 🖤❤️ I love you a lot! 🖤❤️

GIFS indicate the different (and increasingly beautiful) phases of Michael. You’re there through it all; it’s what you both deserve. I wish I could reach through the screens and bring Michael into reality for you, honey, but I can’t. This is the best I can do for you and I think Michael would appreciate this (I hope you do, too!)

Word count: 2, 200.

Something so inconsequential in the grand scheme of things had quickly become a tradition between the two of you. It was something that neither of you had known just how much you would come to enjoy and cherish this occasion between you until it was happening, and from that point was it your go-to comfort activity, your way of shedding all of your daily responsibilities, worries, fears, insecurities and stresses.

Complex people the two of you were, but your ultimate way to relax was one of life’s simplest pleasures:

Having a Disney film marathon.

The way in which this tradition had become what it was between the two of you was just as simple as the good it brought you.

One night you had been studying while you were visiting Michael at the Murder House. Camped out on his bed had you been deeply saddened and concerned by the way that he had shuffled into the bedroom, the door wide open as a silent invitation towards Michael - it was his bedroom - and any of the nicer, gentler ghosts that wanted to join you while you watched Disney films and studied.

Michael’s baby blue eyes had been rimmed with redness which only served to enunciate the natural beauty of his eyes, and his golden curls were sticking to the sides of his face, so damp were his cheeks with tears. He was wearing a short sleeved grey shirt with dark blue on the collar and the edges of the sleeves, and checkered blue boxer shorts.

It was two in the afternoon and he was in his pyjamas, which meant both that Constance, his beloved grandmother, had been neglecting him this day as she always did. and also that it was one of those days in which the voices in his head which whispered nefarious things to him about doing their bidding, about doing his father’s bidding, were louder than usual.

You had cooed softly, dropped your pen immediately and held that hand out. Like the child he was mentally did Michael continue his shuffle over to you, his eyes and face turned downwards. You didn’t even need to ask Michael what was wrong, as immediately did he say, “Grandma won’t talk to me.” A quiet mumble which you barely heard, but you did hear him. You did.

Another soft noise left your lips and you cleared Michael’s bed for him, hurriedly closing textbooks, shutting your laptop after you quickly hit save, and almost throwing everything onto the bedside table in your rush to get Michael into your arms. Again did he take the initiative, waiting for you to shuffle over to the wall, laying down and stretching an arm out. Michael laid down as soon as you were settled, tucking his damp face into the crook of your warm neck. The tip of his nose was cold as he nuzzled it above your jugular, and your nose crinkled as you giggled at his light touch.

Your outstretched arm came around him, tucking Michael into your side, and he hummed softly and sniffled, a hand fisted to dash tears away from his eyes.

“I don’t know why I keep doing what I’m doing. I need help.” Michael burrowed into your side, so deeply that it was like he was trying to crawl inside you. He pressed himself tightly against you, an arm looping around your neck so that he could pull himself up just enough to hide his face from you, but also so that he could bury his face in your hair; using your body as the ultimate security blanket with which he would shield himself from the world and its cruelties; which never seemed to let up on him.

“I’ll help you, Michael.” A solemn vow which crawled inside Michael’s ears and brought a smile to his full lips as he once again shifted next to you, lifting his head to gaze at the television stationed at the foot of the bed.

“What are you watching?” That soft voice, those eager blue eyes. Tears had dried on his face and left tracks on his cheeks. It wasn’t the first time that Michael had come to you crying and it definitely wasn’t the last, but it was the first time that he had felt like he could ask you about what you were doing, a childlike innocence in his eyes as he looked curiously at the television.

“Cinderella.”

“What’s - “

You grabbed Michael’s hand and tugged him to lay back down beside you. “Shush. Just watch. I think you’ll like this one.”

----------

It came to pass after the first time that whenever either of you were upset, the other one would pick a Disney film and the two of you would watch as many as you could in the time that you had available to you.

When Michael was a student at Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men, he did extremely well in keeping up with the expectations and pressures put on him, but oh, he carried so much fear, sadness and anger within him that sometimes he spent his days biting his tongue until it bled; holding himself back from cursing people out or condemning them all to the deepest pits of Hell.

For the most part could he control himself, but as pressures heightened, tensions rose and Michael’s head was left spinning against all that was being demanded from him - really, he had been thrown right into the deep end and given no time to discern up from down before people had started trying to harness his natural powers for their own, it seemed that there was need for another Disney film marathon.

You were, once again and without coincidence, camped out on Michael’s bed studying. His scent, which was saturated into the material of his duvet and pillows, helped to focus you, and being surrounded by his possessions kept you calm and focused as you wrote yet another essay. The door slammed open but you didn’t even slightly jump, so used were you to Michael’s admittedly dramatic ways.

You did look up, however, and Michael’s trembling lower lip cut across Ariel singing about I wanna be where the people are ~, and made it impossible for you to focus on the film. Mirroring the last time this had occurred did you immediately put your pen down, shove all of your materials to the side and open your arms up to Michael, who almost stomped over to you.

“They want me to take the Seven Wonders test in two weeks.”

“They what?! Michael, that could - “

“I know,” There was a notably whiny edge to his voice and you grinned to hear traces of the sweet boy that you had met all that time ago, “But everyone seems to think I can do this. No one gave me a fucking instruction manual and I - “ Michael cut himself off, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Is this Little Mermaid?”

“Yeah.” You tapped his arm. “Wanna cuddle with me? I’m gonna watch Aladdin after this and then maybe - “

You hadn’t even finished your sentence but Michael was already laying down in front of you, his head on his pillow, his body gently pushing you further back towards the wall. You laughed at his enthusiasm, your heart squeezing in your chest so deliciously, and wrapped your arm around his waist, tugging yourself closer to him as he adopted the position of the little spoon. Often times were you the little spoon, but today, emotionally vulnerable as he was, did it seem fitting for Michael to take your place. You didn’t care, really, as you pressed kisses to the side of Michael’s face, your other hand awkwardly coming to brush his golden curls back so that you could reach more of him.

“You’ll do perfectly, Michael. I wish they wouldn’t pressure you, though. You deserve so much more.”

“You are more.” Michael spoke quietly, as if he was afraid to ruin the tranquillity of the moment, and he could hear your thoughts racing, so loud were they. “They don’t know me like you do.” They don’t love me like you do. Everyone always wanted something from Michael. His name, his powers, his father... but not you. No. You saw Michael for who he truly was and you loved him all the more for it.

You were his Queen, he your King, and one day would you rise from the ashes of this world together like a phoenix.

--------

“Oh, my love,” A weary sigh from the suddenly open doorway of Michael’s bedroom in Outpost Three. “You look so tired. What’s the matter?”

You put your phone down, stretching languidly on Michael’s bed, aware all the time of his appreciative gaze as he made his way towards you with slow, measured footsteps which rang out around the room, the sound bouncing off the walls. To him, you were the most beautiful woman on this plane of existence and all the others. “Can’t sleep,” You sighed, “I don’t know why... for the last three days I can’t sleep... can’t study... so I’m just watching Disney clips on my phone to pass the time.”

“Do you want me to help you get some sleep?”

You shook your head and lifted an arm out of the duvet, holding your hand out towards Michael with a mischievous smirk on your face, a devious glint in your eye that looked so right on your face. You were tired enough that you were thinking and speaking without really thinking about what was going to come out of your mouth, and Michael couldn’t deny that he much preferred this lack of a filter. It made you a little bit more interesting - though, granted, you were already the most captivating person he had ever come across in his short time on Earth.

“No. But - do you want to watch Disney with me, Sinderella?”

Michael stopped at the side of your bed and tilted his head quizzically. “I beg your pardon?”

You resisted the millennial urge to say, then beg, finding the meme hilarious in this context but knowing that Michael wouldn’t understand it; and instead tugged him onto the bed with you, taking your place beside him and putting your head on his chest to better hear his heartbeat. It was your favourite song and never again did you ever want to hear a repeated refrain of any of the songs which played on a loop downstairs; you just wanted this song and this refrain for the rest of your life.

“Oh, come on,” You grinned, looking up at him, “Golden curls and those eyes? Baby, you’re a Disney princess. And, do you get it? Sinderella?”

Michael’s baby blues told you that he didn’t.

Your grin only widened as you pulled up a notes app on your phone - you would never know how Michael still had internet, electricity and a Netflix which was curiously stacked with only your favourites and things which you would enjoy once you found the time to watch them - and typed two words:

Cinderella and Sinderella.

Michael took your phone from you, his fingers grazing yours sensually as he did so, and his eyes roamed over the two words. Confusion melted into genuine amusement after a few seconds and his eyes glittered with mirth in the candlelit room, a soft orange glow cast about his face only seeming to amplify the blue of his eyes and turning his hair even more golden.

“Very clever,” He praised, “But tell me - if I’m a Disney princess, what does that make you?”

Endless possibilities filled your mind but you were only interested in the one where the laptop continued to play Disney films on repeat and Michael’s torso remained as your pillow, which rose and fell with his every breath. You just wanted this moment forever; Michael feeling safe and warm, cherished and loved in your embrace as you pressed yourself into his body; wanting to feel as much of him as you could within one touch.

“Hush, love,” Michael cooed, his chest rumbling in your ear as his deep voice filled your senses, “I’m not going anywhere. Sleep.”

“I love you,” You tried to say that you loved him a second time, which immediately followed the first, and you felt a light pressure on your forehead as Michael kissed you with his full lips.

“I love you too. My Raven.” The last two words were full of pride, of joy and of love, and you finally, finally, found sleep in the arms of your Disney princess, of your Sinderella.

Only for you would Michael allow such liberties.

--------

Though you and Michael had met quite by chance, it was an encounter from which serendipity had been born. Your friendship and eventual relationship was an intense roller coaster which consisted only of celestial highs and hellish lows, but you wouldn’t change any of it for all the world.

He was your Antichrist, and you were his Raven, and though you were whole individuals, together were you the unstoppable King and Queen of the New World.

#michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon fluff #michael langdon cuddles #happy birthday!#i love you and michael so so much #ahs #ahs imagine #ahs 8 #ahs 8 imagine #american horror story #american horror story imagine #american horror story apocalypse #ahs apocolaypse

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begitalarcos · 5 years ago

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100+ Years of Horror

This is not a definitive list. These are just the films I believe every Horror fan should see at least once. I’ve excluded any sequels that I didn’t feel needed including. I hope you enjoy.

For @mechamag

1922 – Nosferatu

1925 – The Phantom of the Opera

1927 – The Cat and the Canary

1931 – Dracula, Frankenstein

1932 – Freaks

1933 – The Invisible Man

1934 – The Black Cat

1935 – The Bride of Frankenstein

1939 – The Cat and the Canary

1941 – The Black Cat, The Wolfman

1942 – Cat People

1945 - Dead of Night

1953 – House of Wax

1954 – Creature from the Black Lagoon

1955 – Night of the Hunter, Les Diaboliques

1956 – Invasion of the Body Snatchers, The Bad Seed

1958 – The Blob, Macabre, The Fly

1959 – House on Haunted Hill, The Tingler, The Killer Shrews

1960 – 13 Ghosts , Black Sunday, Eyes without a face, Peeping Tom, Psycho, Village of the Damned

1961 – The Pit and the Pendulum

1962 – What ever happened To Baby Jane?

1963 – The Birds, Black Sabbath, The Haunting

1965 – Repulsion

1966 – Island of Terror

1967 – Wait until Dark

1968 – Night of the Living Dead, Rosemary’s Baby, Spider Baby

1970 – Mark of the Devil, The Bird with the Crystal Plumage

1971 – The Cat O’ Nine Tails, Let’s scare Jessica to Death, What’s the matter with Helen? A Bay of Blood, Play Misty for Me

1972 – Ben, Children shouldn’t play with dead things, Deathdream, Don’t torture a Duckling, The last house on the left, Night of the Lepus, What have you done to Solange?

1973 – The Crazies, The Exorcist, The Legend of Hell House, Sisters, The Wicker Man, Don’t look now

1974 – Black Christmas, Deranged, It’s Alive, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Vampyres

1975 – Shivers, Trilogy of Terror, Jaws, Deep Red, The Stepford Wives

1976 – Alice Sweet Alice, Burnt Offerings, Carrie, Eaten Alive, The Omen, Squirm, To the devil a daughter, The town that dreaded sundown, The Tenant

1977 – Audrey Rose, Day of the Animals, Demon Seed, Eraserhead, Exorcist 2: The Heretic, The Hills have Eyes, Rabid, The Sentinel, Shock, Suspiria

1978 – Damien: Omen 2, Dawn of the Dead, Halloween, I Spit on your Grave, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Jaws 2, The Legacy, Magic, Martin, Piranha

1979 – Alien, The Amityville Horror, The Brood, Phantasm, Prophecy, Tourist Trap, When a Stranger Calls, Zombi2, Nosferatu the Vampyre, Salem’s Lot

1980 – Alligator, Altered States, The Changeling, City of the Living Dead, Fade to Black, The Fog, Friday the 13th, Hell of the Living Dead, The House on the Edge of the Park, Humanoids form the Deep, Inferno, Maniac, Motel Hell, Prom Night, The Shining

1981 – An American Werewolf in London, The Beyond, The Black Cat, The Burning, Dead and Buried, The Entity, The Evil Dead, Friday the 13th Part 2, The Funhouse, Galaxy of Terror, Halloween 2, Happy Birthday to Me, Hell Night, The House by the Cemetery, The Howling, My Bloody Valentine, Omen 3: The Final Conflict, The Pit, Possession, The Prowler, Wolfen, Scanners, Blow Out, Ghost Story

1982 – Alone in the Dark, Basket Case, The Beast Within, Cat People, Creepshow, Friday the 13th Part 3, Halloween 3: Season of the Witch, Madman, Pieces, Poltergeist, Q: The Winged Serpent, Tenebrae, The Thing, Visiting Hours

1983 – A Blade in the Dark, Christine, Cujo, Curtains, The Deadly Spawn, Eyes of Fire, The House on Sorority Row, The Hunger, Mortuary, Nightmares, Sleepaway Camp, Videodrome, The Dead Zone, Twilight Zone: The Movie

1984 – C.H.U.D., Children of the Corn, The Company of Wolves, Gremlins, Night of the Comet, A Nightmare on Elm Street, Razorback, Silent Night Deadly Night, Firestarter, Starman, Ghostbusters

1985 – Cat’s Eye, Day of the Dead, Demons, Fright Night, Ghoulies, LifeForce, Phenomena, Re-Animator, The Return of the Living Dead, Silver Bullet, The Stuff, Cut and Run, The New Kids

1986 – Aliens, April Fools Day, Chopping Mall, Critters, Deadly Friend, The Fly, From Beyond, Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer, The Hitcher, House, Invaders from Mars, Little Shop of Horrors, Maximum Overdrive, Monster Dog, Night of the Creeps, Poltergeist 2: The Other Side, Rawhead Rex, Terrorvision, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, Trick or Treat, Troll, Vamp, The Wraith

1987 – Angel Heart, Bad Taste, Creepshow 2, Dolls, Evil Dead 2, The Gate, Hello Mary Lou: Prom Night 2, Hellraiser, The Hidden, House 2: The Second Story, The Outing, The Lost Boys, The Monster Squad, Near Dark, A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors, Opera, Prince of Darkness, Predator, Stage Fright, The Stepfather, Street Trash, The Witches of Eastwick, Lady Beware, Fatal Attraction

1988 – Bad Dreams, The Blob, Child's Play, Dead Heat, Elvira Mistress of the Dark, Fright Night Part 2, Hellbound: Hellraiser 2, Killer Klowns from Outer Space, The Lair of the White Worm, Maniac Cop, Night of the Demons, Phantasm 2, Pin, Prison, Pumpkinhead, Return of the Living Dead Part 2, The Serpent and the Rainbow, Uninvited, Watchers, Waxwork, They Live

1989 – 976-Evil, The Church, Grim Prairie Tales, The Horror Show, Intruder, Leviathan, Night Life, Pet Sematary, Shocker, Society, Warlock, Dead Calm, The Forgotten One, DeepStar Six

1990 – Braindead, Bride of Re-Animator, Child’s Play 2, The Exorcist 3, Frankenhooker, Graveyard Shift, The Guardian, Hardware, IT, Jacob’s Ladder, Misery, Night of the Living Dead, Nightbreed, Predator 2, The Reflecting Skin, Sundown: The Vampire in Retreat, Tales from the Darkside: The Movie, Tremors, Two Evil Eyes, Arachnophobia

1991 – Body Parts, Cape Fear, The People under the Stairs, The Pit and the Pendulum, Popcorn, Scanners 2: The New Order, The Silence of the Lambs, Sometimes they Come Back

1992 – Army of Darkness, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Candyman, Demonic Toys, Dolly Dearest, Bram Stoker’s Dracula, Innocent Blood, Sleepwalkers, Spilt Second, Man Bites Dog

1993 – Body Bags, Carnosaur, Cronos, The Dark Half, Leprechaun, Return of the Living Dead 3, Trauma, Kalifornia, Man’s Best Friend

1994 – Brainscan, Cemetery Man, The Crow, Death Machine, Hellbound, In The Mouth of Madness, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, The Stand, Wes Cravens New Nightmare, Wolf, Interview with the Vampire

1995 – Castle Freak, Demon Knight, Lord of Illusions, The Mangler, Mosquito, The Prophecy, Species, Village of the Damned, Screamers, Dolores Claiborne

1996 – Bad Moon, The Craft, The Frighteners, From Dusk till Dawn, Jack Frost, Scream, Tremors 2: Aftershocks, Mary Reilly

1997 – An American Werewolf in Paris, Anaconda, Campfire Tales, Cube, The Devils’ Advocate, Event Horizon, I know what you did last Summer, Mimic, The Night Flier, Nightwatch, The Relic, Quicksilver Highway, The Ugly, Wishmaster, Kiss the Girls, Se7en, Perfect Blue

1998 – Blade, Deep Rising, The Faculty, Ringu, Strangeland, Urban Legend, Vampires, Sphere

1999 – Audition, The Blair Witch Project, Deep Blue Sea, The Haunting, House on Haunted Hill, Lake Placid, The Mummy, Ravenous, Sleepy Hollow, Stigmata, Virus, The Sixth Sense, Idle Hands

2000 – American Psycho, Bless the Child, Blood: The Last Vampire, Cherry Falls, Final Destination, Ginger Snaps, Hollow Man, Ju-On, Pitch Black, Python, Versus, What Lies Beneath, The Gift, The Cell, Shadow of the Vampire

2001 – The Attic Expeditions, Brotherhood of the Wolf, Dagon, Jeepers Creepers, Mulholland Drive, The Others, Session 9, Thir13en Ghosts, The Devil’s Backbone, Frailty, From Hell, Hannibal

2002 – 28 Days Later, Blade 2, Bubba Ho-Tep, Cabin Fever, Dog Soldiers, Eight Legged Freaks, Ghost Ship, May, Queen of the Damned, Resident Evil, The Ring, They, The Mothman Prophecies, Red Dragon

2003 – Darkness Falls, Dream Catcher, Final Destination 2, Freddy Vs. Jason, Haute Tension, House of 1000 Corpses, A Tale of Two Sisters, Undead, Underwold, Willard, Wrong Turn

2004 – Alien Vs Predator, Club Dread, Dawn of the Dead, Dead & Breakfast, Exorcist: The Beginning, Ginger Snaps 2: Unleashed, Godsend, Saw, Shaun of the Dead, The Village, Taking Lives, The Forgotten, Enduring Love

2005 – 2001 Maniacs, The Amityville Horror, Constantine, Dark Water, The Descent, The Devils’ Rejects, The Exorcism of Emily Rose, Land of the Dead, Wolf Creek, Hard Candy

2006 – Abominable, All the boys love Many Lane, Black Sheep, Fido, Final Destination 3, Hatchet, The Hills have Eyes, Slither, The Woods, The Host, Silent Hill, The Tripper, Wild Country

2007 – 28 Weeks Later, 30 Days of Night, 1408, Grindhouse, I am Legend, The Mist, My Name is Bruce, Nature of the Beast, Paranormal Activity, Primeval, REC, Skinwalkers, Teeth, Trick r’ Treat, An American Crime, Rogue, Funny Games

2008 – Book of Blood, Cloverfield, Deadgirl, Diary of the Dead, Let the right one in, The Midnight Meat Train, Mirrors, Quarantine, The Ruins, Splinter, The Strangers, Eden Lake, Outlander

2009 – Case 39, Grace, The Haunting in Connecticut, Heartless, The House of the Devil, Jennifer’s Body, The Loved Ones, Orphan, Pandorum, Splice, Triangle, Zombieland, Carriers, Dread

2010 – Black Swan, The Crazies, Exorcismus, Frozen, Insidious, The Last Exorcism, Let me in, Primal, Tucker & Dale Vs Evil, The Wolfman, Troll Hunter, Devil

2011 – The Awakening, Don’t be afraid of the Dark, The Innkeepers, Livid, The Thing, The Woman, The Rite

2012 – American Mary, Bait, The Cabin in the Woods, The Devil Inside, The Possession, Prometheus, Sinister, Byzantium, Compliance

2013 – The Conjuring, Evil Dead, Jug Face, Mama, Under the Skin, Only Lovers Left Alive, Warm Bodies, Horns, Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters, Contracted, Stoker

2014 �� Annabelle, As Above So Below, The Babadook, Deliver us from Evil, A Girl walk home alone at Night, Life after Beth, Starry Eyes, Tusk, It Follows, Goodnight Mommy, The Voices, Digging up the Marrow, When Animals Dream, Gone Girl ,The Remaining, Late Phases, Cub

2015 – Crimson Peak, Krampus, The Lazarus Effect, Maggie, The Visit, The Witch, Bone Tomahawk, Green Room, Regression, The Devil’s Candy, The Lure

2016 – The Autopsy of Jane Doe, The Belko Experiment, The Boy, The Conjuring 2, Don’t Breathe, The Eyes of my Mother, Split, The Forest, The Love Witch, The Neon Demon, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, Raw, Train to Busan, The Void, What We Become, 10 Cloverfield Lane, A Cure for Wellness, The Shallows, Pet, Hounds of Love

2017 – IT, Get Out, Mother!, The Killing of a Sacred Deer, The Ritual, Thelma, Veronica, It comes at Night, Life, Gerald’s Game, Revenge, 1922

2018 – Annihilation, Halloween, Hereditary, Mandy, Mom and Dad, The Nun, Overlord, Possum, A Quiet Place, Suspiria, The House that Jack Built, Bird Box, Apostle, The Meg

2019 – Brightburn, IT Chapter 2, Midsommar, Ready or Not, Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, Us, I am Mother, Crawl, The Dead Don’t Die, Extremely Wicked Shockingly Evil and Vile, Glass

#begita #Horror #I'll probably add more #but these are the ones that come to mind first off

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ray-the-fanatic · 5 years ago

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His Home

Gravesbeaks family, Hurt/comfort fluff prompt. One shot

Ao3 link

(last one short for bit now that im working on multiple chapter stories.)

Just a some moment dealing with this awakard family figuering things out.

Everything was dark from under marks hands as he used them to keep Boyd’s eyes covered. While Mark ushered him quickly, Boyd could really only feel the carpet under his feet as they awkwardly waddled across it. There were at least, from what Boyd could think up five better ways to go about this. Another part of him, however, thought this was more fun. It was pretty normal for him to feel pulled by two different lines of thought process like that. Maybe cause Mark programmed more kid like thoughts? Or whoever made the original software did.

“Alright Little buddy ready, to have your circuits blown? Not really though.” Mark said as he moved his hands away from Boyd’s eyes.

Boyd took a moment to adjust to the light, as his eyes set on said surprise. A bedroom just for him, well almost it was more a mix of a playground as well. Boyd walked in further looking over everything before him. The room was full of colorful tubes that were scattered all over the place. That you could climb through with exit and entrance points found in different places of the room. A few of the exits being slides that drop at different heights. Rock climbing walls and foam pits to fall into under them. A built-in playhouse building that functioned as a bed on the bottom. Covered in Boyd quickly counted, ten, colorful pillows. The top of it was set up as a small reading area. From where he stood Boyd could make out shelves with a few books on them. There were cut-outs on the floor for trampolines. Likely just like at Waddle each for different impacts of bouncing. There was also a small desk almost resembling the deck of a skateboard. The desk having a computer set up on it. Boyd ran over to it to check it out, able to tell it wasn’t from any store in town. The room was amazing he thought full of excitement just wanting to explore every inch of it now.

“So?” Mark said as he walked over to Boyd “Like it?”

“Very much Dad, it’s” He paused to think a moment “Lit?”

Mark smiled brightly and took a picture of Boyd standing in the room quickly as he started writing an update to go with it.

“Best room ever.” He said out loud as he typed then watched the screen for a few seconds before excitedly chirping out “ooo look at all those likes, it's blowing up.” Mark held his hands up in the shape of a gun and playfully gestured like he was shooting real ones in the air “pew, pew, pew.”

Boyd did the same and moved in sync with Mark “pew, pew, pew.”

The action caught Mark’s attention right away as he couldn’t help but smile. He placed his hand on top of Boyd's head gently ruffling his head feathers. Boyd happily moved into Mark's palm as he hummed happily enjoying the affirmation from his creator, Dad he meant. One thing Boyd knew well at this point was he often got rewarded for mimicking his Dad or going along with his antics. Maybe it was deceitful, another side of Boyd thought it was like he exploited that fact. He decided not to dwell on that thought thankful to hear Mark speak up.

“Glad that didn’t get lost during your little meltdown at that brats party.”

Mark pulled his hand away slowly as he could hear footsteps behind him. His smile growing brighter when turning to see the man he called Falcon. Though when Boyd looked his inner files they told him he was farther. Who seemed shocked by the room as he looked around curiously. Boyd’s own smile growing when seeing him, he was very fascinated with Falcon since he didn’t see him often. His height alone was enough to pull his attention since he towered over the small android, no boy. He was quiet and calm most of the time and spoke in a stern English tone. His eyes always having that pricing gaze of a predatory bird. To Boyd he was the definition of fierce nothing shook him, well one thing seemed to faze him and make him break that facade.

“Hello Father!” Boyd sprouted out suddenly as he made his way over to him having to stare up at the raptor.

“Y yes uh hello to you as well” Falcon seemed to tense up slightly by that sudden greeting from the boy.

For whatever reason he seemed to be easily thrown off by Boyd, he would freeze up and lost his usual air whenever Boyd got near him. Like he was now so Boyd took a few steps back which was for the best most likely. Boyd tried to keep his smile though to act as if he didn’t notice.

"Hey kiddo why don't you play around in here for now and get settled in." Mark said as he began to push Falcon out of the room able to feel the tension growing in the air. “Were just going to head downstairs for a bit boring stuff, unlike your super cool room.” He added on as he pulled the door to Boyd’s room closed behind them.

Boyd knew it wasn't right but at the same time, he couldn't help it. Quickly running over to the heavy door able to faintly hear their voices from the other side. But, he couldn't really make out what they were saying too well. Luckily being an android came with advantages. Taking a moment to raise up his frequency until he could clearly hear Mark's voice from the other side.

“Does it bother you when he calls you that? I just thought it would be nice so I programmed it in.”

Boyd hadn’t been living with them for long, it had only been a few days since that party. Everyone was still adjusting to this change but Falcon seemed to need the most time for the adjustment. He always reacted the same way whenever Boyd called out to him. Mark made sure to reassure him or would intervene whenever it happened.

“Falcon.” Mark said his voice in a tone Boyd never realized it could reach. It was followed by a sigh from the larger bird.

“I’m not sure. I guess I didn’t think much about it at first when you decided to turn your new project into a means of increasing likes for your social media, so you could go to the child’s birthday party.” He paused “Which I still don’t fully understand why you went to that. When it was just one of your random whims I figured you get bored of the idea. But he’s not an idea he’s here?” Falcon phased like a question.

“Well the little guy kind of grew on me and guess I got attached, I wasn’t really expecting this turn out myself. At first, the project was to make my own robot to be better than Gizmoduck so I could rub it in his face.” Mark said then trailed off for a moment “The focus shifted a bit there and I don’t know the idea grew on me?”

Boyd was listening to every word, it wasn’t like before he knew he wasn’t. Real. He was a robot, android, created by Mark. Kind of. Everything that made Boyd well Boyd was programmed, coded in. He looked down at his hands as he thought to himself. He felt something heavy inside sink into his deepest pits. It wasn’t an actual object but it made him. Feel? Feel bad. In his memory Dad and Farther, no. Mark and Falcon were his parents well they were meant to be. That wasn't real either though. That was the truth. No matter how much he didn’t like having that knowledge it conflicted with his files and it hurt when he looked into it too much. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of his malfunction. His mind was a blank and he had no control over what he was doing. No matter how hard he tried to take it back, he just couldn’t. It was still him doing that but he felt like he had been watching it. Boyd tightly closed his eyes, it was- he didn’t want to think about it. He took a moment to process and pushed those memories away, placing them as far back as he could in his memory as possible. So he wouldn’t have to be reminded of it again.

Boyd moved away from the door and made his way to the bed, he let his face hit the soft mattress. Mark and Falcon seemed to have walked away since he couldn’t hear them in the hallway anymore. That was likely why Fath- Falcon, reacted as he did. The things Boyd could do set him apart too much. Making it apparent that he wasn’t a real kid, and maybe that was why he just couldn’t seem to connect with him ? It was easy with Mark. If he mimicked Mark, he would smile like he could burst from the pride alone. Being basically a walking breathing piece of tech probably didn’t hurt either. Mark liked the power technology offered so Boyd was just the perfect kid for him.

“That’s it!” Boyd sprung up suddenly “I act like dad and that makes him happy so if I act like father too then that should work.!” He said to himself.

...

No less than a few hours had passed when Boyd saw his dad poke his head into the room. Boyd met his eyes and smiled like his usual self, taking note of the slight drop in Mark's shoulders as he seemed to let out a sigh of relief.

“Wanna come out of here for a bit?” Mark asked him “and maybe spend some time with us?” The added emphasis on ‘us’ was not lost to Boyd.

“Yes, I would enjoy that.”

Mark had to pause a moment, he was used to hearing an Engilsh accent now but not from Boyd who he was positive didn’t have that before. He looked down at the young android as he walked by him, arms kept at his sides walking with his back completely straight. A stance he was all too familiar with, didn’t take Mark long to figure out what he was doing. But, he just smiled and shrugged wanting to see where this goes.

Boyd made his way to the living room where Falcon, back to his usual self, it seemed. Was sitting in his scarlet recliner buried beak deep into his current book. Boyd caught sight of it and quickly ran to the bookcase grabbing the first book he could. He went to run back when he caught his dad staring at him so he instead went back to his proper stance and walked to the couch. Only to scrambled quickly on to it as he climbed- up on the couch he got situated and cracked the book open to start reading. Mark looked over to Falcon who was unaware of everything.

“So, kiddo anything you wanna do?” Mark asked as he walked up behind Falcon’s seat, resting an arm on the back of it purposely elbowing his boyfriend when he did so well speaking.

Falcon looked up at Mark a bit annoyed only to get caught by the smile on his face. Mark then pointed over to the couch. Falcon’s eyes following as he looked over to Boyd mimicking Falcon’s usual reading position.

“Reading is fine by me.” Boyd said again using the Engilsh accent once more.

Mark covered his beak as he playfully nudged Falcon, who was more confused instead of delighted by the situation. Falcon closed his book and tentatively placed it on his lap able to see Boyd copy his actions from the corner of his eye. A quick look over to Mark, seeing the smug smile he had made it clear he wasn’t going to help. Falcon just sighed, part of him almost laughed though. It reminded him of all the times Mark had put on his god awful attempt at the accent himself. He looked back to Boyd who seemed to be staring in anticipation at him. Falcon’s tension built up a bit.

“Um, Boyd are you sure that book is a good pick for you?” Was all Falcon could think to ask since he couldn’t make eye contact with him and instead looked to the cover of the book to see the title. “I don’t think 'The Grapes of Wrath' is right at your age.”

“Oh it’s fine, my reading level is above average!” Boyd responded with forgetting the accent as he excitedly spoke. Only to quickly shift back into his act when he realized it. “I do enjoy reading a lot. Reading is an essential skill to have after all.”

Falcon smiled a bit not having spent much time with Boyd so it was the first time he saw him perk with such enthusiasm. Displaying such a kid like enjoyment for the task and the act was starting to grow on him, maybe that was why Mark enjoyed it so much.

"Well being able to read it is one thing, that book may be out your understanding."

“Dad made sure my artificial intelligence can grow naturally so the more I do something I just advance along with it. I like to read so I can grasp the more complex topics on somethings” Boyd looked down annoyed suddenly. That was the second, no third time already he broke character. He sighed and turned his head to the side looking away from Mark and Falcon as he pressed himself up into the couch cushions.

This wasn’t working, by now Mark would be bursting with joy and giving him a pat on the head. Falcon was more a challenge with this game. Though it made sense he was so close off, Boyd had seen him at times drop it when he looked at Mark. With a softer smile and sometimes a playful tone when speaking to him. Cause he cared about Mark. They had a love for the other, Boyd pushed himself deeper into the couch. It felt nice at the moment, it gave him some comfort because suddenly he just felt so alone. Boyd wanted to just escape into the comfort the couch had to offer because it didn’t make him question his place. In truth all Boyd wanted was to just feel he belonged here.

“Hey Kiddo you okay over there?” Mark asked, snapping Boyd out of his thoughts.

Boyd opened his eyes but didn’t move from his hiding place, he seemed to have wedge himself between two of the cushions squeezing tightly in the small gap they offered him.

No, I’m not okay

He thought to himself something wasn’t right with him, he couldn't shake the, feelings? Thoughts that kept fogging up his mind. That same sensation from before like something was sinking inside him. Almost like he was being weighed down by it. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to force those thoughts from coming back again. He didn’t want to think about those thoughts he could maybe delete them? Make it like he never had them in the first place? That could work, then they wouldn’t be in the way he could just act like everything was normal. Like he was normal, just like before.

Again his thoughts were interrupted, feeling the familiar sensation of a hand resting on his arm. At first he thought it was Mark but the size wasn’t right and the touch was more hesitant. Boyd lowered his head a bit to look. Surprised to see brown feathers instead of Marks grey ones. Continuing his gaze up to see Falcon standing over him, his expression something Boyd never thought he could make. Did he look worried? No that can’t be right.

“Are you okay?” Falcon said, his usual stern tone gone replaced by something more soft and genuine. Concern maybe? That alone made him crave in.

“No” He vocalized this time only to retreat back into his safe haven between the couch cushions.

Falcon looked over to Mark who made his way over and sat on the other side of Boyd, laying up against the couch as he lightly poked at Boyd’s head. His own special approach to the situation.

“What’s going on kid?”

“I’m not!”

“Not what?” Mark asked “Gonna say? Talk? Not here? The last one won’t work cause we can see you clearly.”

“Mark” Falcon said flatly to show that wasn’t helping, then turned his attention back to Boyd “You can tell us son” that tone aimed at him again. It didn’t bring comfort this time though it was more a reminder of what was bothering him so much right now.

“I’m not your son!” He let out and drew his knees to his chest curling up into the couch like a small ball, he didn’t want to see their faces after saying it. “I’m not even real, no matter how much I want to be I can’t be.” Everything he had been thinking for the past days coming all out.

“What that's crazy, I built you to be my kid so obviously that's what you are.”

Boyd looked up at Mark his eyes fierce and burning red as the head inside them started to raise “I’m fake!” He yelled out in frustration making Mark grow silent at the reaction.

“I know it, you know it farther knows it.” he tucked his face into his shoulder as his voice grew more quiet. His thoughts messy and all over the place but he couldn’t keep them from spilling out anymore. “I hate it. I want to act like I don’t know the truth but I do. I’m not your son I wish I could be but i’m not real. It’s all pretend.”

“What? But you are real Boyd.” Falcon was the one to speak up

“No I'm not that's why you get all weird with me. If I was real you could bond with me. Dad can but that's cause he made me and he likes when I copy him. That’s all I am”

Falcon awkwardly pulled his hand away then fidgeted with his cufflinks. He happened to catch Mark’s gaze who just slightly gestured to Boyd. A small sigh escaped his beak and he nodded to show he understood. Falcon placed his hand back on to Boyd’s shoulder. He was so small especially when curled up like this.

“Boyd?” He said and like always his voice got the small boy’s attention as he looked over his shoulder to him. “You are real to me and that scares me.”

It grew silent between the three of them as those words settled in the air. The reason Mark was aware of, the answer Boyd didn't have. The truth Falcon wasn't good about stating seeming to bring a clam over them all.

“I scare you?”

Falcon nodded but smiled not helping clear Boyd’s confusion in the least when he did. It wasn’t often when Falcon displayed his awkward side but as he used his free hand to move around in the air. Almost as if it was physically trying to grab at the right words when he spoke.

“I never thought I’d have a kid or family, your Dad’s whims are not in my control well really anyones. You just were an unexpected surprise. I probably should be used to all that now. “ He said tossing a look Mark’s way before he continued on “I’m just not sure what I'm doing.”

Boyd blinked absently as he took in those words. He slightly seemed to follow with what was said. Boyd could understand that though he too was unsure about the whole situation at times. Maybe he was also scared?

“And for what it’s worth, you are able to think freely. I found a good AI to base yours off for that. I think it’s cute when you copy me even if you do it on purpose.” Mark added in himself “Yeah you weren’t planned to be as you are now but that doesn't mean anything really. Most of my plans don’t go as I think they will, doesn't mean I dislike the outcomes.”

Boyd smiled slightly, it didn't really fix anything but it was nice. He moved out from the couch and looked at Falcon as he swept in and clung to his side,in a slightly awkward but loving hug. Falcon froze a moment but Boyd didn’t let go, his father was the one who needed the gesture. Slowly he felt Falcon arm wrap around him hugging him back. It took Mark a full half a second to intrude as he moved over. Throwing an arm over Falcon as he took a selfie.

“Family moments” He said out loud as he posted the picture. Boyd slightly laughing as Falcon groaned in annoyance.

#gravesbeaks #falcon graves #mark beaks #gravesbeaks family #I really like writing boyd #and mark too hes fun #my writing #fanfic

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mintea-in-space · 5 years ago

Text

Tar In His Veins Chapter 5

God it was dark. Why was it so dark? Lydia strained her eyes, struggling to see in the pitch black.

It reminded her of the Netherworld.

Too much.

She heard more than felt her boots hitting the floor, arms pumping.

Running.

Somewhere.

Anywhere but here.

She knew tears were streaming down her face, as she ran blindly in the dark. But where could she go? Her dad wasn’t here, and her mom was gone.

No one could save her this time.

A pin prick of light snatched her attention.

There! A person! Maybe? No, for sure!

She ran faster, breaths coming out in huffs, combat boots thumping with every step.

She almost sobbed when she saw stripes.

It was him, he was here! In the light! She locked her gaze to his striped back.

Just get to your demon, then you can figure out how to leave this awful place. Just get to Beej-

She stopped when he slowly turned.

He wasn’t right.

His eyes were swimming voids of green, hair white, face blank.

Empty.

Lydia’s heart dropped to her boots.

She took a step back.

And he took one forward.

“Beej? Beej what’s going on?”

She whispered.

No answer. Just that blank stare.

“Okay Beej that’s enough! You’re kinda freaking me out here! And not in the good way!”

Another step forward.

Another step back. She shuffled back until she felt her back hit an invisible wall. Her ears were ringing. And it smelled.

It smelled like death.

He just kept walking. Black beaded at Beetlejuice’s tear ducts, and suddenly it overflowed. It dripped, black ooze, welling in his eyes. It streaked down his cheeks, smearing dirt and grime and makeup on his face.

Lydia felt her breath catch in her throat. Frozen with fear, while the shell of her best friend shuffled closer.

“Beej please.”

It came out in a whisper.

Tears fell down her own cheeks, fear twisting with confusion.

Beetlejuice shuddered to a halt.

Opening his mouth, black dripped from his maw, sliding down his chin.

And then it was a stream, then bigger, until it poured out of him. It just wouldn’t stop. It pooled around her feet, and she felt it rise.

No.

No no no nonononononNONONONONONO!

She was going to drown. The viscous liquid was at her knees now. And still he stared.

It just kept coming. And she was trapped.

It was at her waist now, clinging to her skirt and legs, thick, like ink.

Or blood.

She finally turned and slammed her fist against the invisible walls around her, crying, screaming.

She was up to her arm pits, the blood trapping her arms under it, she couldn’t move, it was everywhere, and just before she went under, she saw his face twist into fear.

He gargled the words.

“I’m sorry Lydia.”

And she sucked in a lungful of black.

She woke up screaming, flailing around, eyes wild in her head. Beetlejuice, who had phased through the floor as soon as he heard screaming, almost got a punch to the face.

“Whoa kid! Kid what’s wrong?! What happened?!”

Grabbing her wrists, he gently rubbed the back of her hands. Beej hoped she couldn’t tell he was shaking.

The Maitlands had brought him up to the attic. They showed him to a couch they had placed in the corner, and gave him several blankets, most of which he was sure one of them made. They let him get settled, arranging the blankets to form a nest of sorts, before he smiled. His hair was dusty pink on the tips, just barely there, but Barbara caught it. They smiled at him, before whispering that they were right across the hall, and that their door was always open. He tried not to get his hopes up, but it was hard. The two were so kind, and vibrant.

Beetlejuice didn’t know the dead could look so bright.

So he did his best to sleep.

It wasn’t easy.

The Netherworld didn’t exactly have a lot of warm beds and safe feelings.

No, you always felt the nagging feeling you were lost, that something was wrong. And he sure as hell never slept with his mother around.

“Demons don’t need sleep you worthless excuse of a man!”

Juno’s voice still echoed in his mind.

Shuddering, he snuggled further into his nest.

“Just close your eyes Beej,” he mumbled. “Just close your eyes and relax. It’s warm, you’re safe, everything is-“

The first high pitched whine hit his ears. Startled, Beetlejuice whipped off the blanket covering his head, looking around.

That came from downstairs.

Ears twitching, he sat up further, straining to hear another sound.

The moan shot through him like a bullet, and just like that he phased out of the nest and straight through the floor.

Lydia was still on the couch. Charles hadn’t wanted to risk moving her and waking her up, so he had simply draped a quilt over her and let her sleep.

But her face was twisted. She let out short breaths, hands and legs twitching in her sleep. She let out little mumbles, and he couldn’t make out many words. Just a few ‘no’s’ and ‘please’s’.

Beetlejuice did the only thing he could think of.

He knelt by the couch, and waited.

He knew what night terrors are. It’s hard not to, living with Juno. But he knew that usually, it could be bad, even dangerous to try and wake someone up during one. So he just put a hand on her arm and waited.

It was torture.

He couldn’t do anything, even when Lydia’s eyes rolled behind her lids, when the little mumbles became words, then shouts. And the thrashing. Hair white, hands shaking, he just tried to hold her through it. And when she finally woke up he could have sobbed.

“Whoa kid! Kid what’s wrong?! What happened?!”

Lydia ripped herself from him. His hair was the same as before, a stark white. She trembled.

Confused, and hurt, Beej pulled away, sickly yellow creeping into his hair. Shit he messed up this time. He should go. They wanted him to stay until Lydia woke up except now she was scared of him.

Lydia Deetz.

Scared.

Of him.

He curled on himself, or at least he tried to, thoughts forming a blizzard in his head. But Lydia launched herself off the couch and into his arms. She was shaking.

He gingerly put his arms around her, and when she didn’t pull away, he tightened his grip on her shirt.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.”

It was muffled, face pressed into his shirt. Puzzled, the demon shook his head.

“I’m sorry, you’re sorry? I clearly did something! Lyds you’re shaking. I know night terrors can be a bitch, trust me I’ve been there, but I’m the one who should be sorry! God you were scared of me! You’ve never been scared of me! I-“

Lifting her head she glared at him, effectively shutting him up. With a sigh, she pulled away, wiping her face of tears.

“It wasn’t you Beej. It was just... never mind.”

Oh no, that wouldn’t do. Beetlejuice, master of communication, can’t let that one go!

“No tell me. I wanna know. Is it a person? Someone I can kill? Or scare at least? Come on kid just point me in the right direction and they’ll wish they were never born!”

Lydia snorted.

“No Beej it isn’t a person. Really, it’s fine, been having these stupid nightmares for weeks.”

He furrowed his brows. A third arm sprouted from his back to scratch his chin, pretending to be deep in thought.

“Hmmmm, that’s miiiighty suspicious Watson. Don’t think I can let you off that easy.”

He smiled at the giggle he got, then frowned when she looked away.

He waited, letting her make the first move. He knew how to read his best friend, and he knew it would eat at her from the inside if she didn’t talk about it, so he waited.

Picking at the hem of her skirt, Lydia kept her eyes glued to her lap.

“It was the Netherworld.”

Oh.

“I was just, running. And it was empty,” her hands fisted in her skirt. “Until you showed up. But it wasn’t you. It was wrong. And shit Beej all this black came out of your mouth and then I was drowning and-“

Beetlejuice snatched her, gripping her tightly. He really was a fuck up. Fuck... Fuck!! He always did this!! He didn’t even know how he showed up here, it was a miracle, but he just, messed up this kid, this perfectly strange and unusual normal kid. Fuck he-

“Beej I can’t breathe.”

He loosened his grip and buried his nose in her hair.

She smelled like flowers. Funeral flowers. He took a moment to just, feel her there. Hold her and keep her safe. His bffff forever, his little scarecrow.

Finally he sighed, and let her wiggle out of his arms.

“Beej you’re turning blue bud.”

His hand flew to his hair, before he gave her a look.

“Did you just call me bud?!”

She laughed.

“Maybe, what are you gonna do about it, friendo?”

“Oh my god you sound like Adam.”

“Shut up!” She playfully shoved an elbow in his side, grinning when he groaned and fell over.

“Oh god. You killed me. Holy shit. I’m gonna die now. Look at me Lyds, I’m actually dying.”

Giggling, Lydia nudged him with her foot.

“Dead people don’t talk dumbass.”

Gasping with fake offense, Beej dramatically draped himself across the floor.

“I can’t believe it, I trusted you! And now, I die!”

And he finished with a loud “bleerrghfh” before sticking his tongue out. Lydia flicked his forehead.

“End scene genius.”

With a poof of green smoke, he was standing, bowing deeply with a bouquet of frankly horribly ugly flowers while she clapped. Beetlejuice dropped back down to the floor, smiling.

“Glad you’re okay Lyds.”

She mock gagged.

“Ugh don’t you get mushy on me. Gross.”

Giggling, the two bantered for a while, just sitting on the floor. Beetlejuice was happy, he got to see her again, and she was happy, not all that panicked crying and screaming before.

He tried to bury the nagging voice in his head, telling him it wouldn’t last, they’d kick him out eventually, they’ll get sick of you Lawrence. Nobody loves you Lawrence.

And he just flipped off the voice that sounded like his mom. Because Lydia was warm and laughing at his jokes, and he could see that spark in her eye that he missed. And she got him.

Arguing with him was easy. Lydia knew he could read her like an open book, and she could do the same to him. He was like a brother, or weird uncle. Brunkle? Oh god he would love that.

The demon in question looked at her when she had gone silent in thought, head just barely tilted. Beetlejuice cocked his own, tapping her feet.

“Okay spill, whatcha plotting?”

“I was thinking about how you’re like a brother, or an uncle,” she snorted. “And then I thought of Brunkle and I realized you’d love that.”

Looking at him, his eyes were shining. And knowing him, they were literally shining. He beamed, and Lydia braced herself. He wrapped his arms around her, more times than humanly possible, and cooed.

“Awwww! You do care about me! I’m a brunkle!! Oh man, look at me now ma!! I can’t believe it this is such an honor!”

A large obnoxious trophy materialized in his hands. Beej dabbed his eyes with a handkerchief pulled from nowhere, and blew his nose like a trumpet.

“You know? This really is the best day of my life! Being promoted is such an amazing feeling! Oh Lydia how can I ever thank you?!”

Laughing, she punched his arm.

“Shut up nerd!”

“No you shut up!”

“Nu-uh! I said it first!”

“I said it second!”

And the two bickered. Adam walked sleepily down the stairs to find the two of them still on the floor of the living room, sun just barely peeking through the curtains. He watched for a few moments, smiling.

They went back and forth, flicking foreheads, elbowing sides, giggling about something or other.

Adam felt his heart swell with affection, and it took him by surprise. Watching them, watching how Beetlejuice was with Lydia, really cemented what he thought of him.

That demon had a heart of gold, and he was going to find a way to polish it until it shone.

Wait that didn’t make sense. Or did it? Hm. He wasn’t sure, but he knew what he meant and that’s what mattered.

Smiling, Adam quietly made his way back upstairs, letting the two talk. He knew once Delia was up it would be time for breakfast, and he wanted to give them some alone time. He gently ushered Barb back up the stairs and into their bedroom, carefully closing the door behind them.

#mintea writes #tar in his veins #tihv #sibling stuff #beetlejuice #beetlejuice the musical #lydia deetz #oh!#i did illustrate a scene from Lydias nightmare #>:3c #brunkle energy

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meat-husband · 6 years ago

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hey could we get some fics and the like where the reader is more of a runner type like they just really do not want this shit. maybe they fuck up their ankle and get caught. how would the killers react to escape attempts and how do they get the whole "your mine" thing to start sticking do they hurt them a little to remind them of what they can still do? ( with Brahms and Micheal please)(I'm done with fluff I want to be scared of them)

Big mood anon!!! I like some fluff and taking care of the boys, but I also love some scary, possessive murder men.

Brahms

Wet hair was stuck to your face, cold rain running into your eyes and blinding you. You couldn’t hear anything over the rumble of the storm above you, but you screamed as loud as you could anyways, hoping someone would hear.

Running should have worked. Brahms had the upper hand in the house, knowing all the twists and turns, the shortcuts inside the walls, but he wouldn’t - couldn’t - leave the house. You couldn’t take him on inside, he was stronger by far, but if you could make it outside, that was all the advantage you’d need to finally make a break for it. You wouldn’t need to worry about being hunted down, ambushed in the corridors of the old house, you’d have the whole expanse of the massive lawn between you and him.

But Brahms had left, flying out the door after you, running out into the storm and catching you only a few moments into your escape. His feet were bare, slipping in the wet, muddy grass, but his hands caught hold of you and didn’t let go, long fingers snarled into your hair and the collar of your shirt. You fought against him, screaming loud enough to be heard over the thunder, but his grip didn’t loosen despite your struggles.

“Let me go!” You spat, twisting furiously in his hands. “I hate you, let me go!”

Brahms pulls you inside, through the still open door and into the hall, letting the wind and rain soak the entry carpet. He’s silent, but his chest is heaving, red knuckled hands dug into your hair and dragging you across the floor. You don’t care what he does to you, what cruel punishments he might think up, you’re tired and angry and scared, and this failed escape is only one in a long line of things that have drained your resolve.

He half drags you up the stairs, throwing you against them and untangling his hand from your hair with harsh pulls. You lunge forward, knowing you aren’t going to make it past him, but kicking and flailing anyways, hoping that one of your strikes hits him hard enough to make him hurt.

He drops down over you, knees on either side of your waist pinning you against the hard edge of the stairs, grabbing your wild hands and holding them against your chest. You glare up at him, his red rimmed eyes glaring right back, both of you gasping. Your chest hurts with the force of the anger building inside, you’ve never felt such loathing for someone before. The greasy curls stuck to porcelain, the soggy cardigan falling off his shoulders, the cracked and painted face he wears, it all infuriates you, and you’ve never wanted to see someone hurt so badly before.

“I hate you,” you repeat, trying to get as much vitriol into the short sentence as you can manage. “I’m not your nanny, I’m not taking care of you. You’re a horrible, ugly person and I hate you!”

The words seem to have an effect, his shoulders hunching up and head tilting down, and you feel a burning sense of satisfaction at his reaction. You hear his breath hitch, feel the trembling of the hands that hold your wrists, and with a loud wail he falls over you. His whole body shakes with sobs, his covered face digging into the crook of your neck, and you jerk away from him. The sounds are pitiful, broken little noises that make your stomach hurt and twist, but you feel the grip on your wrists stay firm, the body above you still tense and ready. There are no tears, just cold rain pressing into your skin, and you hate him all the more for trying this trick.

“I know you’re faking, you’re not even crying.”

The sobs slow down, trailing off into silence until he’s simply laying over you, breathing loudly into your ear. You turn your face away from him, but he’s too close to get away from the heat and smell of him. Finally he sits up, pulling away and staring down at you with dry eyes.

“You’re no fun,” he snaps at you, and though he only sounds a little put out, you can see his own rage burning in his eyes. “You’re not fun anymore.”

“Get rid of me then,” you say bluntly, writhing under his hands. “I don’t want to be here, just kill me and get it over with.”

He looks surprised at your request, leaning back a little. You try to put all the hate you can into the look you give him, narrowing your eyes. You don’t want to die, not really, but you can’t stay in this horrible house for another moment, and if this is the only way out, you’re ready to take it.

“You killed the others, didn’t you, you told me so. Just kill me.”

Brahms looks down at you, silent for a moment, before you see real tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. You’re not surprised, he might have faked it before, but he’s lured you into a false sense of security with tears more than once. A little whimper leaves him, and when his hands release your own, you’re quick to fling yourself at him, pounding your fists against his chest. He lets you, arms around your back pulling you in until you’re too close to hit him, arms trapped between your bodies. The sobs start up again, but they sound real now, hiccups and gasping breaths breaking up his words as he cries into your hair.

“But I love you,” he whines, stuttering the confession out. “I love you, I want you to stay here with me.”

A cold drop of fear settles into the pit of your stomach. Brahms is a liar, he’ll say whatever you need to hear so that he can have his way, but this isn’t something he’s saying to lull you into calmness. He’s not telling you this so that your compassion and empathy will keep you here, he knows that you’re done with that. You feel your throat tighten and your eyes start to tear up as you think that he might truly mean what he says, a deep repulsion bubbling in your veins at the thought that he might really be stupid enough to think that his desperate, lonely obsession with you is real love.

Michael

He doesn’t smell bad, you think, pushing your face against the curve of his shoulder, heavy arms coming up to hold you there. The house is cold and drafty, but huddled together on a piece of long unused furniture you wait out the night, hoping that the day ahead will be a little warmer.

There is always the tangy undertone of metal and blood in everything that he wears, but it’s not a dirty smell. Mostly it smells like crisp, cold air and the faint hint of sweat on skin, and a sharp, chemical scent the closer you get to the mask. You’re a little surprised that the scent of the old jumpsuit is almost pleasant, but not as surprised as he is when the knife is buried into his side.

Michael screams, the first real sound you’ve gotten out of him, and the arms around you throw you across the room before you have time to bolt away. You hit something hard, you’re not sure what in the gloom and confusion, but your head spins as you squirm on the ground in pain. You’re able to stand just long enough to take a handful of wobbly steps towards the door, but your escape attempt doesn’t last long.

A hand on the back of your neck stops you, throwing you backwards and onto the floor again, where you curl inward. The pain is coming in fast now, your brain finally catching up to your body, and you feel it when a heavy boot lands on your stomach.

“Okay,” you start, gasping in air around the weight compressing your abdomen. “Alright, that was a mistake. I’m sorry -“

You don’t get a chance to continue, the slight pressure he puts on your unprotected stomach knocking the air out of you. You open your mouth, trying to suck in air, but all you get is a few red faced sputters. You must have injured your ribs at some point, because your whole torso burns now, your heaving gasps only worsening the pain.

You can’t even be mad with him, really, not when the handle of that knife is still stuck into the bloody mess you had made in his side. It doesn’t seem to phase him now, although you’re glad that at least you’ve left your mark. You had fought back before but never actually managed to harm him, aside from scratches with your dull nails.

Michael watches you, the dark eyes behind the mask glinting in the dim light filtering in through the grimy windows. You can see dust floating through the air between you, illuminated in the day’s first rays of early morning sunshine, but the black spots in your vision grow bigger and bigger, until your eyes roll back and you can’t see anything at all. You’re sure that he’s going to kill you this time, but the weight is off you just as your frantic thoughts start to fade, body convulsing as you choke down air.

You writhe on the ground, rolling onto your side and curling your arms around your injured torso, but you can still hear the quiet sigh that drifts down from above you. You see the bloodied knife, discarded on the floor behind his feet, but you don’t even think of going for it. You aren’t sure when he removed it, maybe you were out for longer than it felt like, or maybe you were too busy trying not to suffocate to notice, but there’s not a lot of hope that the wound will keep him down at all. He’s come back with worse than that, half bled out and full of more bullet holes than you would think a human could take. It was stupid to think you could do anything more than inconvenience him, but you couldn’t resist the opportunity to try.

“S-sorry.”

You’re not sure why you’re apologizing to him, but now that you’ve gotten your breath back you feel the need to break the silence. You flinch away when he takes a step towards you, but he only crouches down, arms on his knees, and watches you. The red stain on his side continues to spread, but he shows no sign of it bothering him. It makes you feel more than a little hopeless to realize that you’re not going to be able to force your way out of this, that he’s not something that you can fight against and win.

#Slashers #Michael Myers #Brahms Heelshire #Slasher x Reader #im sorry mikeys wasnt edited that well lol #i wrote this so quickly because i was so excited #but then suddenly it was 3am so #Anonymous

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bangtan-babe · 6 years ago

Text

i met you in the dark. 01

summary: Jungkook was rich and well dressed. The perfect target. But, everything changed once you decided to steal from him. And you’re beginning to find out he’s not exactly who you think he is.

pairing: jungkook/reader

genre: angst/ mystery/ drama/ some humor

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Chapter 1: Gotcha

It was 7pm and crowds of people burst from the subway station entrance. Most days, the mountain of people coming out of the train mimicked an overpowering avalanche. Not only would it knock you off your feet if you weren’t quick enough, but there was also something exhilarating about being in the midst of it. In the sea of brown and black suits, your worn out hoodie and jeans labeled you as an outcast. With your hood up and your head down, you moved swiftly and carefully making sure to avoid any necessary contact. You lifted up your head slightly, moving your gaze away from your feet to find the man with the gold ring. After moving your eyes quickly from one person to the next, you finally spotted him. He was a few feet away from you. A coy smirk escaped from your lips and you increased your pace.

___________________________A few minutes ago_______________________

A small petite woman stood in front of you on the train. She was wearing a black cinched dress with sparkly heels, clearly struggling to maintain her balance on the train. There was no point stealing from her. If she was rich, she would be taking a taxi with that outfit, not the train. Your eyes scanned others, most of whom were sleeping with their heads on their briefcases or awkwardly leaning onto the person next to them. You bit your bottom lip, a sign of hidden frustration as your stop was coming up and you hadn’t found a target yet.

Nope. Samsung Galaxy 6 phone. Nope. Too young. Nope....too broke. You eyed a lady looking intently at her balance book.

As you scanned the train cart, a man standing by the door who was talking on the phone grabbed your attention. There was something about his demeanor that left you perplexed and uneasy. His dark hair and all black outfit fit his stone cold expression perfectly. Suddenly, he turned around. You shot your eyes to the floor, wondering if he had seen your face. But, when you lifted up your head slightly, you realized the man was looking straight ahead toward the connecting cart door. Then you saw it, you saw the gold watch and subtle gold ring glistening off his hand.

Yes. Gocha.

The train was reaching your stop and you prayed he got off as well. As people got up and made their way to the door, he shifted his body towards it as well. You stared straight ahead as the doors of the train opened up.

______________________________Present_________________________________

The man with the gold watch and ring was only a few steps ahead of you now. As you recognized the impending event, your body experienced a rush of anxiety. This always happened and it was usually the hidden paranoia of getting caught that resided in the back of your mind. But like every other time, you brushed it off and moved forward. At this point. you were right behind his impressively broad-shouldered body. Your eyes scanned his black jeans and you noticed the outline of a square object.

You removed your hands from your hoodie, moved next to him, and then pretended to reach the small zipper in your book bag. In an instant, you swiped his watch using your middle and thumb finger to unbuckle the clasp and carefully hide it in your sleeve. With those same two fingers, you removed his wallet stealthy from his back pocket and placed it carefully in your bag. Letting out a sheepish smile you placed your hands inside of your hoodie and walked in front of him.

“Excuse me,” a rough voice echoed behind you. Hearing those two words made your entire body freeze and you stopped dead in your tracks, praying that it was some other man calling you. It took you almost 10 seconds before you turned around. Your eyes glanced over the man’s hand and you immediately recognized the gold ring.

“You dropped this,” he stated placing his hand out which held your mini panda keychain. You bowed your head slightly, unable to say a word and took the keychain with both hands.

While he was giving it to you, he suddenly pulled his hand back. You noticed his gaze remained fixated on your wrist and his eyebrow rose slightly. The first thought that crossed your mind was that he had somehow seen the watch buried in the sleeve of your oversized hoodie. But then you quickly realized that if he had, the police would be here by now. His eyes were still transfixed on your wrist and your irritation level increased tenfold. When you matched his gaze, you realized he was staring at your paper airplane tattoo. Feeling vulnerable that he had seen your tattoo, you jerked your hand back as fast as you could, grabbing your keychain in the process.

“Thanks.” you blurted, before turning on your heels and walking away as fast as you could.

_________________________________________________________________________

“Grandmaaaa,” you called out in a sing-songy voice as you walked into her shop. Like always, you planted yourself all the way in the corner of the restaurant, where the aroma of whatever she was cooking would fill your lungs. In front of you stood eight tables all perfectly arranged in neat rows and columns. The water dispenser and cups were also placed accordingly near the counter. Grandma’s shop was simple, but it suited her personality to a tee. She still hadn’t come out of the kitchen, so you pulled out the watch and wallet. As you examined the wallet and rolled it from one hand to the other, you noticed that it was made of genuine leather and coated with a deep brown color. You opened it slowly, somehow expecting something to jump out, yet nothing did. The inside of the wallet contained credit cards that were useless (unless you were looking to get caught), a couple of business cards of companies that you had never heard of, a disappointing amount of cash, and a typical id.

“Well hello, Jeon Jungkook,” you said reading the name printed on the id. As you stared at his picture, his dark expression pierced straight through the plastic. It was the same look that you had seen on the train. But despite his strong demeanor, a look of sorrow was plastered across his undeniably handsome face. And if anyone knew sorrow, it was you. Most of your life consisted of pretending to be someone you weren’t and fighting a demon that you had no control over. So you had a rather close relationship with that look- the look of someone who was stuck in a pit of darkness.

When you placed the id card back in the slot, your fingers grazed against the bottom of the wallet. There was a small bump that stuck out as the wallet remained open. You took out the cash and stuck your fingers inside of the interior. All of a sudden, you felt something hard with carved edges. When you took the item out, you noticed it was a gold key.

“What the..what’s with him and gold?” you rhetorically questioned aloud. You examined the key a bit before noticing something written on the top.

“STA HK12. J J K E,” was carved in a light, discrete color.

Suddenly, your grandma walked out of the kitchen and you quickly stuffed all of the items in your backpack. She placed a plate of japchae in front of you, then went about cleaning the tables at the front with a rigid expression.

“Where’s my hello?” you teased while slurping your favorite noodles. She lifted her head up from cleaning the tables and had a sorrowful expression while eyeing your bag and face.

“Whaaaat?” you whined childlike, but also clearly recognizing her stare.

“Did you do something bad again?” she asked, her tone both angry and worrisome.

You placed your chopsticks down on the table and digested the noodles in your mouth. She knew you too well. Yet, thankfully not well enough to know that you stole from people.

“Grandma, why would your perfect granddaughter do something bad?” you mentioned with a hint of sarcasm in your voice.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re not my granddaughter and you love money.” Her comment didn’t really phase you. Although you weren’t her biological grandchild, you knew that she still cared for you as if you were her own.

You folded your arms across your chest and leaned back on the chair, pretending to be offended. “Okay, I’ll forgive you for saying the first thing,” you began to proclaim wholeheartedly, which made her chuckle as she realized your evident exaggeration.

You continued. “But the second...that hurts me too much. Just because I love money doesn’t mean I do bad things.”

She quickly replied, “It does if you don’t have a job.”

Your eyes widened slightly. Her words were absolutely, without a doubt true, but you weren’t going to let her win this one. You were too competitive for that.

“I do have one,” you lied.

She laughed in disbelief. “Where?”

“Your eyes scanned across the room trying to come up with some sort of excuse. Two seconds went by then five then ten. Suddenly, you saw a flyer on one of the telephone poles outside of the store. It was an ad for a receptionist position at an infamous hotel in Seoul.

“Seoul Park Hotel. Your beautiful granddaughter is a receptionist there,” you proudly boasted.

_______________________________________________________________________

“Hi. I’m applying for the receptionist position,” you smiled as you gave the girl at the front desk your resume.

She looked annoyed and reluctantly glanced at your resume before speaking. “You’re supposed to submit this online.”

“Well that wasn’t written on the flyer,” you replied genuinely confused. You noticed she gave you a slight eye roll before staring you up and down.

“Everyone knows that you’re supposed to submit it online,” she said in a condescending manner handing back your resume. Subtle comments like hers were infuriating. The job process was hard enough, and it didn’t help when people put down others based on stereotypical presumptions. This is why you stuck to pickpocketing rich people.

“Well, clearly not everyone,” you shot back. The girl, whose name tag said Jieun, didn’t respond to your comment. Instead, she looked down at her computer and typed away.

“Great customer service,” you murmured to yourself while making sure it was loud enough for her to hear.

You gathered your belongings and stormed across the seemingly never-ending lobby of the hotel. As you made your way toward the entry, you lifted your head slightly not really paying attention to your surroundings. All of a sudden, from your peripheral you noticed a group of men sitting down at the couches near the entrance. A few steps away from the men stood a guy dressed in all black with a wired earpiece. His back was towards you but the scene was so peculiar that you were now staring at them. Within a few seconds, the guy turned around. Your eyes turned bloodshot when you saw his face. You quickly looked down at his hand to make sure it was him. It was. The gold ring was clear and visible. Jeon Jungkook, the guy you stole from yesterday, was now standing right in front of you. In an instant, you bolted out of the hotel.

“...What the fuck?” you exhaled once you got to the bus stop. “What the fuck.”

#jungkook angst #bts angst #jungkook scenario #bts scenario #jungkook #bts #bts au #bts fic #fic #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #jungkook bts #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook au #jungkook fluff

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comfortmarvelimagines · 6 years ago

Text

When You Can’t Find the Quiet pt2

yoyoyo sorry this took a lot longer than i said it would, i rewrote it three times and it STILL sucks but uh here ya go i tried

“Fuckfuck Mr Stark I-I think they’re dead! Ohmygodohmygod,” Peter crouched down, moving to shake you back to consciousness.

“No, Pete, they’re fine. Don’t touch them. The complete removal of stimulation when I activated the blackout protocol probably gave their brain permission to turn off… Or something like that. I’m not a doctor.”

“They’re probably exhausted.”

“Yeah, well, then, that too. Problem now is getting them and your mask out of the school with minimal pain to them and no harm to your identity.” Peter could hear footsteps in the background of the call. Tony was pacing, thinking.

“What if I just… Put them on one of the projector trolleys! There should be lab coats in here somewhere, what if I covered them with that so that no one sees? It’ll be like one of those super cool spy movies!”

“You know, for someone so smart you really are dumb sometimes. You are not smuggling them out of the school like a corpse, the last thing May needs is a call to the police station because you’ve been arrested on suspicion for murder.” There was a pause, neither of them knowing what to say. Needing to feel like he was somehow helping you, Peter bent down and gently pulled your hand from your mouth, now that you were no longer biting on it. It was still bleeding.

“I, uh, we need a band-aid in here.”

“That’s what you’re concerned about right now? Look, do you know anyone you can call, a parent, that can take them home?”

“Uh, no. Last time Ned called their mom when they were gettin’ really anxious and kinda stimmy during an assembly she… She kinda didn’t care? Like, she didn’t come and pick them up or anything, and y/n said it wasn’t too pretty when she got home… And I thought about going to the nurse earlier, to see if there was someone else, but come to think of it I don’t know who you could call. They don’t have anyone else, really.”

“Okay. Okay. So you need me to come and get you…” Peter swore he could make out the clinks of a suit piecing itself to Tony. “When’s the next class end?”

“Ummmm,” Peter pulled the phone from his ear, tapping the screen, “Three minutes.”

“Sweet. I think the only way you’re gonna get them out of there is if you take the mask off. Reckon you can get them to the front office in like, 90 seconds before hell breaks loose?”

He didn’t finish the sentence before spiderboy was out the door, phone in pocket, you in his arms.

***

The phasing out of unconsciousness was, sometimes, the worst part. It was like becoming aware of everything that hurt more and more acutely until it was almost overwhelming again, but not actually being able to do anything. The need to get out never went away. It was just paused for a second. Occasionally, you were lucky, and the pain wasn’t quite there before you managed to fall asleep properly, but today was not one of those days. Your head felt like someone had repeatedly dropped a brick on it. Nausea came over you in waves. As you became increasingly more aware of your body, other things began to trickle in; the muted sounds of kids yelling in the corridor, the hum of the lights (which, incidentally, were enough to make your eyes burn even through your eyelids), the click of a keyboard, adults talking- no, arguing, the smell of disinfectant and GOD these sheets were so BAD…

As much as you felt like dramatically waking up with a gasp and flinging of cheap blankets, like in the movies, the most you could manage was a half-hearted groan and weak attempts to pull as much blanket as possible over your head. The tapping sound next to you stopped.

“Mr Stark!”

You knew immediately that it was Peter. As much as you could tell he was trying to be quiet, his whisper-screaming wasn’t really cutting it. Another groan left your throat, this time completely involuntary. Footsteps. A click. Your eyeballs weren’t on fire anymore, thankfully. Still no way in hell were you about to open them. More footsteps, heavier this time.

“Hey there, kiddo, nice to meet you. Obviously not nice circumstances. Pete and I are gonna get you out of here, okay, but it’s probably gonna hurt a bit before we can fix it. Alright?” The voice hesitated, as if waiting for your consent. “Oookay then. Here’s what we’re gonna do. Pete’s gonna help you sit up. Then we’re gonna get you out to the car. Pete said to try to touch you as little as possible, so do you think you can walk on your own?” You thought for a second. Your legs felt like jelly, but you didn’t want anyone anywhere near you. Even though it was splittingly painful, you managed a slight nod.

Peter’s voice sounded, closer to your head. “On three, I’m gonna hold your shoulders and pull you up, ‘kay? Ready one, two, three.”

Sure, you knew it wasn’t going to feel wonderful, but that didn’t make it any less stomach-churning. Dizziness took over and you overbalanced to your left, face-planting into something… Soft? Nice. Good feeling. You hummed in contentment.

Peter sounded like he was trying to muffle a laugh. “Oh my god, Mr Stark, they like your shirt. Good luck getting them off now!” He was still whispering, but it was enough for you to realise what you were burying your face in. Did you care enough to sit back up? Absolutely not. Apparently Peter had moved on, because he went on to ask if he could take the shitty school blanket off your head and replace it with his hoodie, so that the light outside would at least have some sort of filter. You answered by humming again, so he took it as permission. Better. Smelt like Peter. No longer wanted to rip the skin off the back of your neck. Somehow, the good fabrics helped to cancel out the other Bad things. The nausea wasn’t quite as all-consuming anymore.

Cool hands met yours. You recognised them- Peter. Another countdown, and you were pulled to your feet. It didn’t quite feel like you were attached to the lower half of your body, somehow suspended but tethered at the same time. Slowly regaining feeling in your feet, you shuffled forwards. “Good to go, kiddo?”

If inside the nurse’s office was tolerable, than the outside was a burning pit of hellfire. The disorientation from not being able to see from the jumper over your head was panic-inducing, but when you pulled it aside everything was too much. Flick right wrist, flick left. Click your fingers, twice. Repeat. The light on the ceiling, flickering. Like the one from the train. Make it stop. You felt like your head was imploding, starting from right behind your eyes. Get out. Need. To. Get. Out.

Peter was near you, saying your name, but it merged into everything else. Not knowing what else to do, he pressed his fingers to your shoulder blade to trigger you into moving forwards. He knew he shouldn’t touch you, but what choice did he have? Your eyes were glassing over and the only way to make it stop was to help you get out, seeing as you weren’t quite there enough to do it yourself. Rather than the jump that he was expecting, you followed the pressure; for whatever reason, it seemed to ground you a little. Tony was close, to your left. You didn’t realise how you’d gotten to where you were, but all of a sudden the fingers on your spine were pushing down and it was cool. Dark. Not completely, but worlds better than before. Now that you were sitting and it didn’t feel like you were spinning, out of control, it felt safe to pull Peter’s jumper back over your face. It wasn’t quite a blanket, but combined with your hoodie it was better than nothing.

“Hey, y/n, I’m so sorry about… Everything. I know today has sucked but you’re doing so well,” Peter’s voice dripped with guilt. You swayed to your left, nudging him in thanks. You sat in comfortable silence for a minute, until the door to your right opened and Tony sat down.

“Everyone doin’ okay?”

“Shhh! You can’t be loud yet.” Peter knew the drill. No loud noises until you said so.

“I, uh, got a band-aid.” Much quieter this time.

“Give it here and I’ll put it on their finger.”

They both leaned across you, making you into some sort of human sandwich. But the pressure was nice, secure. Despite what Peter would tease you about later, the disgruntled noise of protest you made when they moved off was NOT deliberate.

“Do they like deep pressure?”

“Ask them, not me. They can answer. Also, where did you learn about DPT?”

“Pete, I know people, read things. You may think I’m old but I know how to use the internet.” You felt the older man sit back in his seat, no longer talking over you. “Y/n?”

“Hmm.”

“Did you want us to sit closer to you again?”

“Hmmmm.”

“That was a ‘hm’ of approval,” Peter clarified as he shifted closer.

“What are you, some sort of y/n translator?” Just as he said that, the car started moving. Feeling you tense, Peter pushed further into you and you gave easily, falling into Tony’s side.

You’d forgotten how soft the fabric was.

It was less than a minute before you were out cold, in a much more pleasant way this time.

***

You absolutely hated how groggy you were after a sensory overload. Some Bad Brain days were manageable- far from comfortable, but enough for you to get to where you had to be and crash when you got home to try and sleep it off. When it got as bad as it had that morning, it felt like all the energy had just leaked out of you. It was strange. Even on the okay, the good days, you never really sat still. Peter noticed it too, that for once you weren’t even happy stimming or calm stimming, just humming.

The transition from the car to the inside of the compound was considerably less stressful than the one from the office. You were okay to hold Peter’s hand and tap with the tips of your fingers as he followed Tony into the elevator, up and down a hallway. When he let go for a second, to hold the elevator doors for you to get out, trepidation for the unknown in an unfamiliar environment began to set in. Without consciously meaning to, your hands started twisting each other, pulling, until the bones rubbed; an anxious stim. “Hey, y/n, is your tangle in your bag?”

You shook your head.

“In your pocket?”

Same response.

“Uh, Mr Stark, do you have like… I guess you don’t know what a tangle is… Like, something they can stim with, with both hands?” Peter had softly taken your hands in his, loose enough for your fingers to flick and tap independently without hurting yourself. He’d seen how you used to come to school with bruises up to your wrists from stimming like that, and it was MJ that had produced a tangle from behind her book one day. Since then, they had easily become your favourite stim toy, your friends always making sure you had one in your bag, your locker and your desk at home, as well as spare ones on them just in case. Of course, it just so happened that now you had none.

“Hang on a sec, we’ve got a bunch of stuff in here,” Tony opened a door to reveal a completely dark room. Illuminated by the sliver of light seeping from the outside, he opened a drawer from a storage chest built into the wall to show an array of tangles, tactile fabrics, chewelry, just about anything small you could possibly stim with. You felt the grip on your wrists release as Peter grabbed a bumpy tangle- the best kind- and handed it over to you before shutting the door.

“FRIDAY, turn on the sensory room lights.” An entire wall of bubble lights lit up in response. They gradually changed colour, but you were too excited by the pile of blankets by the adjacent wall. As you sat down on the padded floor and began pulling one over your head, Peter found his voice again.

“Dude… Where did you get all this?”

“I’m Tony Stark, I can get anything I want,” he paused. “But seriously, after Germany I did some research into sensory difficulties. I figured that if you were ever struggling with the whole ‘dialled to eleven’ thing, some of this might be useful. Obviously, you haven’t needed it but turns out it’s not such a bad thing to have.”

As you soon discovered, the blankets were weighted, and between that and the calm lights and the tangle in your hands the sound of their conversation didn’t make you want to scream. You started rocking from side to side, legs crossed. The foggy heaviness was still there, but the good stims were starting to make you feel safer, more okay, more yourself since your brain wasn’t perpetually in flight-or-flight mode. Peter came over and sat down next to you and you threw yourself onto him in a hug.

“Squeeze?”

You nodded in response. Somehow, he made it out under the now three blankets over your head and wrapped his arms around you. Peter was safe. Tony, standing awkwardly to the side and watching, was safe now too. Sometimes the world and your brain just weren’t quite compatible, but with friends like yours and people that got it, you knew it’d be okay.

tags: @inumorph @autistic-patti @crystallstaircase @rebel-by-default

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sanjisock · 6 years ago

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safe (1/3)

ao3. warning for graphic depiction of violence and implied/referenced torture.

Fire.

Sanji blinks awake and it feels like fire everywhere, surrounding him, engulfing him — heat under his skin, brimstone in his chest, burning coal at the pit of his stomach. He scrambles for purchase at the sudden intensity of it all, and pain explodes from his left arm, shooting up to his shoulder. There’s a loud noise ringing in his ears, and it takes him a few moments to realize that it is the sound of his own scream.

He gulps in a lungful of air and almost throws up, heaving and retching nothing but bile and air. He can’t trust his vision — blurred and marred by pain and involuntary tears — so he shuffles with his right hand, raises trembling fingers to trail over the scratches on his left arm down towards the source of pain.

He finds blood. A lot of it.

This is beyond just a few fractures, he knows instantly. He tries to withdraw his hand, trying not to agitate the wound, but it knocks over something , sending a bright sunburst of pain that punches the breath out of his lungs.

It’s a bone , his brain, somehow, helpfully supplies in the midst of the fever-pitch agony. It’s his own fucking bone , broken and twisted and tearing through the flesh of his left arm.

“Shit —” he curses, and feels like choking on nothing. He brings his good hand over his face out of instinct, pulling at his hair in some kind of a desperate attempt to distract himself from the pain. It hurts, it fucking hurts like hell , and he grits his teeth hard enough to see stars behind his eyelids.

He stays like that for what feels like years — sprawled over god-knows-where, hand over his face, sharp rocks digging against his backside and bleeding, oh fuck he’s bleeding so much and he can’t even lift a finger to stop it because it hurts and he pulls at his hair and pulls, pulls, pulls —

“Zoro! Zoro, oh my god, he’s here —”

The voice sounds familiar, but it’s hard for Sanji to tell who exactly it belongs to amidst the whole, well, dying and bleeding out onto the ground, excuse him. He can physically feel his body going into a shock, jolts of spasms coursing through his muscles, as if he had just been doused by ice water.

A flash of orange enters his vision, and it takes him a couple of blinks before his brain could catch up with what he sees.

“Nami-san…?” He rasps, question cut short by a violent cough that shakes his entire body. His throat feels sandpaper-dry, the syllables seemingly scrape against his throat.

Nami makes a sound at the back of her throat at that, and it sounds suspiciously like a sob. It can’t be, though. Nami doesn’t cry, unless it’s it’s something terribly dire. And nothing currently is. It’s just him, and a little scratch, and it’s not a big deal.

“It’s all right, Nami-san —” he chokes, feels as if death himself has crawled into his throat, but flashes her his best smile anyways. “I’m fine.”

And then the world around him spins and swallows him into darkness.

When Sanji comes to again, the pain is still there, but dulled. He knows he hasn’t moved much from before, can still feel the wetness of his own blood pooling around the lower half of his body, but the rest of his torso — and his head — is somehow in a much more comfortable position.

Huh.

He blinks, and it takes him a few moments to realize that someone is holding the upper half of his body up, his head lying against the person’s chest.

A chest with a familiar scar across it, he notes as his vision steadily clears.

Zoro.

“Where’s Chopper?!” The swordsman in question yells. If Sanji didn’t know him any better, he’d say Zoro sounds panicked. But that’s silly, of course — Zoro doesn’t panic.

Nami’s voice replies back from a distance. “I don’t know!” The voice yells. “I thought I saw him nearby, he only took a different turn a few minutes ago —”

“Well, he clearly didn’t, because you can’t fucking find him here!” Zoro yells back. Sanji wants to scold him for using such a tone on a wonderful lady like Nami, but he’s kind of distracted by the way Zoro’s chest rumbles as he shouts. He buries his head further into the embrace, and Zoro’s grip on his shoulder tightens.

There are sounds of hurried footsteps approaching, and Nami’s voice is much nearer when she says, “we need you to go and look for Chopper.”

Sanji can feel Zoro’s body stiffen at that. “What?”

“I can’t find him and we can’t risk moving Sanji-kun too much without hurting him. You’re faster than I am, so —”

“No,” Zoro cuts in.

“— I can stay here as you look for him, and...” Nami trails off, Zoro’s reply finally sinks in. “Did you just say no?”

“I’m not going, Nami,” Zoro says, and he sounds pained as he says that. “You go.”

“Really? You’re going to pull that now? You pretend you can’t stand being around him for more than five minutes and when he really needs you to go — ”

“I can’t ,” Zoro grits out. He pulls Sanji’s body closer to him, a gesture he probably didn’t even realize he was doing, and his voice cracks with unspoken grief when he says, “I can’t leave him behind. You know why.”

Sanji wants to ask exactly that — why — and how in the world does Nami know it, but what comes out of his mouth is a whine. He can barely see, can only feel Zoro brushing his hand at his cheek, uncharacteristically gentle. He never knew Zoro could ever be this...soft. Tender. All the pain must’ve made him hallucinate.

Sanji closes his eyes as the warmth of Zoro’s hand soothes him, and lets the darkness overtake him once more.

The Celestial Dragons called him a thing.

Like an animal, a specimen — something beneath them, something exotic, something not even human. The result of an experiment by the notorious Vegapunk and Vinsmoke Judge. He did not deserve their dignity or respect; he was an object for them to own, a toy to break so they chose to.

And they chose to.

They started with the slave brand. He still struggled then when they forced him down, kicking and screaming until his throat was scraped raw, but whatever poison they’d forced him to swallow had started to work; his limbs were heavy and his movement was sluggish, and the brand licked his chest as it burned, all the way through his skin.

He wondered if something inside him turned to ashes too, that day.

What came after were experiments after experiments; they’d caught wind of rumors about the Vinsmokes, about their bulletproof skin and inhuman strength, and they were more than willing to satisfy their curiosities through him. Sanji lost track of time, his world narrowing down to red blood and steel and pain pain pain , and he distantly thought about the kid with the iron mask.

Maybe his brothers were right. In the end, this was what he amounted to.

He phases in and out of consciousness in what feels like years after that. His whole body burns whenever he’s awake enough to feel, like being plunged into molten lava; it hurts , the kind of pain that carves him from the inside, and he’d scream until he loses his voice and then some , before it hurts too much that his mind would slip into darkness again.

Rinse. Repeat.

Sometimes there is a voice — low and steady, like a low hum. Sanji can’t make out what it says — cantarella even recognize the owner of the voice from all the pain — but it is soothing nonetheless. The voice is deep, familiar, and it is nothing like his mother’s but there’s warmth settling at the center of his chest still, the way hers would.

(“Cook,” it says, sometimes. “It’s me. I’m here. It’s gonna be okay—“)

Sanji lets go.

#opfanfic #zosan #roronoa zoro #sanji #one piece

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xxbyimm · 6 years ago

Text

The bet series - Phase III Plateau

May I present to you: Phase III - Plateau.

Special Thanks to my buddies D. and @deepestfirefun for proofreading and being fucking honest about the first draft. It means the world to me that you keep cheerleading me from the sideline, no matter how hard I want to quit.

I do hope you all enjoy. Thorin just wishes for the bet to end so he can touch his queen again, but alas he has to wait two more phases after this one... xoxo

Phase III: Plateau

Summary: Our OC Enya lands in a fierce argument with her king, because she has seen him staring at another dam’s ass. She offers Thorin a challenge: to prove to her he does has, in fact, decent self-control, he has to refrain four weeks from physical contact. He thinks he can make it. Easily. He is a king. But who says the queen is gonna let him win this easily? Let the games begin…

Tags: @nelswp, @deepestfirefun @emrfangirl @princecami, @hails270105 , @exhausted-human-being . So I tagged a few of you who I know were reading this series. Let me know if you want to be added to or removed from any taglist.

Warning: Sexual tension, smut. Enya’s temper. Swearing.

‘Goodmorning.

Let’s be naughty today.’

Thorin was everywhere.

His big, sturdy hands were covering her bottom, the thick fingers kneading the soft flesh. His lips – oh mahal have mercy on her soul – his lips were plundering the crook of her neck, sucking the sensitive skin, his tongue licking away the slight ache that lingered afterwards. His breath came in harsh pants, alongside labored groans that made her toes curl. Their clothes lay scattered over the floor, some pieces ripped, others miraculously untarnished. Thorin had her pinned firmly against the wall, her skin scraping against the stone with every move they made. She would get sore soon enough, but that was a worry for later. Right now she didn’t care, for she got him exactly where she wanted. Heck, she got HERSELF exactly where she wanted.

Finally he had yielded, granted them what they both had desired, craved even, the moment their bet had started.

Yes. Finally.

She got her legs tightly wrapped around his waist, keeping him buried deep inside her, stretching her up in a manner she almost had forgotten he was very much capable of. Her nails dug in his shoulder blades, scratching the skin and leaving red marks all over.

Not that Thorin even cared. He would wear her markings with pride. Like he always did.

Her cheeks flushed at the thought. Strands of hair that had slipped away from her braid were now brushing over her face. It didn’t matter. None of it did. She was ascending, clinging onto him as their bodies moved in sync, both desperately seeking to lose all control. It was too much, not enough and precisely right at the same time. When his length dragged over her sweet spot, a harsh cry left her mouth and her mind ventured to the state of near oblivion. She was nearly there, just one more stroke…

‘Enya.’ Thorin pleaded as he paused for a moment. Enya whimpered softly in protest and he hissed in return. Then he moved to brush his lips over hers. The slight contact made her shiver. ‘Never. Again.’ She nodded vaguely, wanting to promise him she would never lure him into another outrageous bet again -not even to prove a point- but then his hips moved against hers and she crumbled apart into this panting mess, unable to register more than both of their bodies and the thin layer of perspiration that covered them. ‘Prove it.’ He husked, gritting his teeth. ‘Mahal, Enya. Prove it. To. Me.’ ‘Yes!’ she moaned. ‘Any-t-thing.’ ‘Then don’t give in. Hold back.’

WHAT?!

Enya woke up with a startle. A vile curse escaped from her mouth, a word that would make even the most hardened warriors in Erebor blush like the holy virgin.

A dream?! REALLY?!

After all the suffering she had been through, she was going to be tormented IN HER SLEEP? Enya threw the blankets off the bed she had been sleeping in and jumped up. The floor was clay-cold against the soles of her feet. The fire in the corner of the guestroom had died hours ago, and she could see her own breath. She shivered against the cold that chased away the last bits of drowsiness and welcomed the discomfort, as it surely would keep her awake and focused. But a deep desire still pooled in her stomach and it took all of her to resist the urge to search for friction. She couldn’t give in. If she did, she would lose. Enya groaned in frustration and sat down at the writing desk that stood on the far end of the room. She rammed her head on the wooden surface.

Fucking hell. This was just great. She wasn’t even safe in her own sleep anymore. What if the dream would have continued and she had tipped over the edge? Would that mean her defeat? Enya heaved a sigh, cursing her treacherous body in silence. She could control herself, but she couldn’t tame her dreams. She was failing and her own game slowly turning against her. Maybe she should just give in, admit her failure and… She clenched her jaw when the mere thought of Elmilynn resurfaced, the damned dwarrowdam that had brought about the whole dare in the first place.

No.

Her body might try its hardest to make her forget her point, but luckily she hadn’t lost her sanity yet. If Thorin really thought he had outsmarted her enough for the remainder of their bet, he didn’t know his queen at all. She just needed to up her game, make a new plan. A well-organized set-up that would help her survive those eighteen days and sixteen or so hours and bring her king down his knees in one go. Enya rummaged through the drawers of the desk, until she found a piece of parchment and charcoal and started scribbling. This was all about tactics, finding your nemesis’s weak spot and exploit it. Thorin was a very physical dwarf, who believed actions were worth more than a thousand words. If there was a way to be in his presence, but without physically being there, she had to find it. A smile crept on her face. Drive him crazy, very slowly, without giving him that much needed opportunity of releasing the tension. Oh, she was going to let him burn in the deepest pit of hell, ever simmering never going anywhere, only to lift him up for a bit when she felt like it. And then let him come crashing down again.

Push. Pull. Repeat.

Okay, okay. Maybe not a literal hell, just as in figure of speech of course. She was going to play with all Thorin’s senses and break his will…

Although she absolutely had no desire to talk to her king after the stunt he pulled on her yesterday, she still made her way towards their private quarters. If someone had seen her stalking off in the middle of the night, it would already be the talk of the day in court. Imagine what would happen if people knew their queen hadn’t returned to her chambers by dawn… The noble ladies would have the day of their lives trying to conjure up all the possible explanations for that. Adultery? Resentment? A broken marriage? Enya rolled her eyes as she walked along the hallway that lead to the royal quarters. It still was early in the morning, so she might get lucky and slip into their bedchamber unnoticed. The piece of parchment was safely hidden in the pocket of her dressing gown. She smirked.

It’s a new day, Oakenshield. Let’s play.

‘Good morning.’ His baritone voice greeted her long before her eyes got used to darkened room. Despite of her lingering anger against him, she couldn’t help but smile while she made her way towards the window. She pulled the curtains away and glanced over to the bed. Thorin was laying in almost the exact position as he had the night before when she had caught him. His arm was resting casually beneath his pillow, the blanket draped across his abdomen and showing off his fine muscles. He had developed this habit of sleeping naked and the mere memory of his warm, muscular body pressing against hers made her breath hitch. His dark locks were the right amount of just-woke-up messy and the carefully shaven parts of his beard showed a vague stubble. His gaze was a little faraway, like he still was processing his dreams. Her thighs clenched involuntary and Enya ignored the pleasant flutter that rose in her stomach.

Oh for fuck’s sake.

Every time she thought she’d had found her favorite type of Thorin, there was a new one waiting to be discovered and sweep her off her feet.

‘How did you know I wasn’t a servant?’ she said, pausing to appreciate his ridiculously good appearance. He blinked against the bright light. ‘Because a servant usually doesn’t walk like my queen. Or wears a dressing robe.’ ‘Is that so?’ she replied. ‘You never know with these cunning dwarrowdams swarming all over the place. They’re all hoping to catch themselves an handsome king.’ ‘Unfortunately there’s only one the king likes.’ Thorin told her. ‘And he already has married her.’ ‘Really?’ Enya commented as she waved her hand. Flames shot through the room and landed in the fire place. She followed her fire and watched the flames settling on the fresh logs. ‘What a lucky female that is…’ she murmured. The fire grew as her own frustration started to resurface. Although Thorin surely was alluring as fuck (hell, in her dictionary he was the embodiment of temptation), she wasn’t going to forgive him that easily. He had played her and he’d damn better feel guilty about it.

‘I got lonely without you, uzfakuh.’ Thorin mused. ‘Where have you been?’ ‘To heaven and hell in just one dream, how about you, my king?’

‘Oh, nothing special.’ She shrugged. ‘I’ve been to Dale and asked Bard if he had a bed to spare. I mean, I didn’t know how far I should venture out because my king evidently treats the concept of me being in his presence quite… offhandedly.’ She quickly bit on her lip to hide a smile and glanced over her shoulder. Thorin was laying on his side now, his reaction to her words was almost too subtle to notice. But she knew him. The slight straining of his upper torso, wiping away the relaxed sleepiness that had lingered there moments ago, was a sure sign that his interest got piqued.

Got you.

‘That would explain why I couldn’t find you.’ He said while regarding her with curiosity. ‘So you’ve been out? In your dressing gown?’ She smirked. ‘You think I’m stupid enough to venture out in these robes? If I had done that, tongues would be wagging about the queen’s indiscretion as we speak.’ She paused, deliberately, and walked towards her bedside table to fetch her hairbrush. Thorin followed her movements, staring at her intently, as if her body language would provide him with clues whether she was lying or not. The silence hung heavily in the air. Enya settled on her side of the bed, facing away from her king. ‘You know I’m smarter than that…’ she breathed while brushing her hair with long strokes. ‘You wouldn’t.’ he responded, a slightly tensed edge in his voice. ‘No?’ she purred. ‘Just like you wouldn’t break the rules?’ ‘Mahal, Enya.’ He groaned. ‘You know that’s not true. Drop it.’ ‘Oh no.’ she said, feeling utterly calm. ‘I will drop it when I have shared my thoughts on it properly.’ ‘Well spill it, then.’ He challenged her. ‘And be done with it.’ ‘It’s done when I say it is.’ Thorin clenched his jaw. ‘You stubborn-’ ‘Excuse me?’ she asked him sweetly. ‘No.’ Thorin grumbled. He got up and settled against the headboard of the bed in a cross-legged position. The sheets slid away.

Ha, if Mahal truly was on his way to save her soul, someone better inform him she was a lost cause. Thorin was very much still naked and the sight of his bared skin was doing unspeakable things to her brain. If it hadn’t been for this ridiculous bet, she would be straddling his lap right now. His sturdy hands would grab hips, impatiently guiding her down onto him. With a sinful smile, she would slow him down, because the intense sensation of that first stroke was something that needed to be salvaged. To be enjoyed fully.

‘You’d better fucking focus on the argument, love.’ her mind suddenly warned and Enya bit her lip. Usually their fights did end in passionate lovemaking sessions, but today would not be one of those occasions. Today they had to solve it by talking. And no touching.

Well, there’s a first for everything...

‘I’m a what?’ she inquired while shoving her thighs together. Oh god, adding pressure definitely did not help her case, it only increased the yearning. She exhaled slowly and shuffled to find herself a more comfortable position. How did normal people cope with this amount of sexual frustration? It needed to go somewhere anyway?!

‘No.’ Thorin repeated and he narrowed his eyes. ‘I will not be lured into an argument just because you are all hot and bothered and refuse to relieve yourself.’ As if! Enya huffed, her anger resurfacing again. Her nails clawed into the wooden handle of the brush. Really, that accusing tone of his always made her blood boil. ‘And I refuse to come to terms with the fact that kings think they don’t have to play by the rules, not even within their marriages!’ she retorted. ‘For the last time, it was a loophole!’ he barked. ‘I would never-’ ‘That’s what you say, but yet you can’t seem to ignore a fine piece of ass if it happens to pass you, can you?’ she interrupted, forcefully throwing away her brush. ‘What’s going to be next? When will you decide to seek your fortune outside our private chambers?’

Oh, this felt so good.

‘Don’t you dare.’ Thorin demanded. He was scowling at her, his jaw set and every other nerve in his body wound up like a coiled spring. To any other being an angry Thorin would be perceived as terrifying, but Enya had to admit it made him look only more sexy. ‘Or what?’ she challenged, frustrated with her own incapability to overcome her desires. ‘What will you do? You can’t touch this, can you?’ ‘If you weren’t this frustrated right now, we wouldn’t have this conversation.’ He insisted. ‘So it’s all my fault then?’ she snapped. ‘Let’s blame the queen for everything that doesn’t go your way!’ ‘May I remind you how we got in this absurd situation in the first place?!’ Thorin exploded. ‘This was YOUR IDEA, YOUR BET. It’s on YOU!’ ‘We’ve got in this situation because YOU were glancing at that INSUFFERABLE dam’s ASS!’ Enya retaliated. ‘Mahal, Enya.’ Thorin commanded. ‘That is quite enough. Stop. It.’ ‘Maybe you should NOT have made the STUPID DECISION of marrying ME!’ She went on and jumped from the bed. ‘Maybe WHAT YOU SHOULD HAVE DONE IS BETHROTING SOMEONE MORE EXEMPLARY, SOMEONE NORMAL!’ ‘You really think that?!’ Thorin argued, his face distorted in anger. ‘Come to your senses, woman.’ ‘SENSES?’ she yelled while barging for the door that lead towards her dressing room. ‘You’re talking to ME, ABOUT SANITY?!’ ‘For the LAST TIME.’ Thorin snapped. ‘DO NOT BLAME ME FOR YOUR OWN FRUSTRATIONS!’ Enya paced towards the door that lead towards her dressing room and smiled curtly. ‘Oh, but you’re wrong there. I am not frustrated. At least, not anymore.’ ‘What do you mean by that?’ he growled, his tone dangerously low.

The hairs on her arms prickled. She had to be careful now, because she was threading on the borders of Thorin’s patience. If his self-control cracked, they would end up having angry sex on the floor. She knew she shouldn’t. She knew she was wrong in starting this whole senseless argument anyway. But he was so right, she was hot and bothered and needed to get off on… something. Although not the most desired one, arguing was an agreeable way to blow off steam. It was wrong to push Thorin’s buttons, wrong of her to lash out while all the wanted was to have him sheathed deep inside her, but she couldn’t help herself. The agony was pulsing through her veins, her thighs yearning, her skin screaming for his touch. She was hurting and he deserved to feel the same way.

‘Maybe I took matters into my own hands. Maybe I had help with that. Who knows?’ she jested while leaning back against the cold wood.

That would serve him right. Under normal circumstances, Thorin would refuse to believe for even a second she would betray his trust like this, but right now she could tell he wasn’t thinking straight. She too felt strange as agony, anger, frustration, insecurity and desire were all swirling through her body, screaming for release. It was confusing, too much and she was moments away from becoming completely hysterical.

‘Okay, Blueheart.’ her mind pleaded. ‘You got this. Breathe.’ Enya lowered her gaze, focusing her senses on her hands. Her fingers were groping the doorknob. She could feel the cold metal searing against her palms. She vaguely heard the bedsheets rustling, but then…

She gasped when Thorin almost crashed against her, his hands slamming into the wooden door inches from her face. Enya glanced up, her gaze meeting her king’s. Sapphire eyes burned through pale blue ones and she saw her own hot fury mirrored in his gaze. Thorin was breathing heavily, like he just had fought a wearing battle, although in this case it would have been one of a more mental kind. His body was prepared for a fight anyway, with all his muscles strained and unyielding. His naked skin was radiating heat like a forge, and Enya secretly welcomed the comfortable warmth. He was close, so close.

But that still wasn’t enough and it would never be. The hurt was clawing through her flesh, gnawing on her bones. Tearing away her heart. She needed to lash out. Anything to relieve the pain.

‘Are you cornering me?’ she taunted. ‘You wish to intimidate me?’ ‘I would never.’ Thorin murmured softly. ‘I love you and you know that.’

Well, fuck. Sure, she had expected him to blow up, to rage at her in order for her to scream back, but this… This was not what she had expected. Enya exhaled slowly, her mind trying to wrap around the fact what her heart already knew for ages. She could count the times he actually had voiced his feelings for her this explicitly on one hand, and to hear him proclaiming his love so bluntly, so… Her bottom lip got caught between her teeth as Enya tried to regain her composure. It was useless. Her hands were shaking, her heart pounding in her chest. Tears were burning behind her eyes as the guilt washed over her. She had been acting unreasonable and he could have let her walk away, but yet he still was here. Watching her with those enchanting, breathtaking sapphire eyes like she was the most precious thing in the world.

‘That’s cruel.’ She mumbled. ‘To play that card.’ ‘I still mean it.’ He grunted. ‘And you should hear it more often.’ The anger that had dominated him a few moments ago still lingered under the surface, but there he was, reaching out to her. Enya swallowed hard and blinked rapidly to push away the tears that kept on coming. ‘Really, is that dwarf on a mission to make me cry today?’ she wondered shortly, but all thoughts got lost when he found her gaze again.

His face was inches away from hers. As his scent engulfed her senses she really understood how much she missed their intimacy. Her fears, her doubts, even her insecurity… it didn’t matter as long as he was holding her. He was her safe haven, her rock. The physical part of their relationship was what really defined them, and they could not survive without it.

It was as if he had read her thoughts. ‘We are torturing ourselves, uzfakuh.’ Thorin breathed. ‘We don’t work this way and I fear we never will.’ Enya shook her head, not trusting her own voice yet. He smiled gently. ‘I used to think that upholding my honor was the most sacred thing in life, but-’

Oh, she could not bear any more revelations. How could she ever tell him what these words (and this whole ridiculous bet even) were doing to her, without bawling her eyes out? ‘I could use a time out.’ She stuttered. ‘Me too.’ Thorin rasped.

Both of them stood in silence, pausing to consider the impossible and very forbidden move they were willing to make. Thorin was close, so close. Lips almost brushed against one another, breathing in the same air and Enya’s head got hazy from the powerful sensation. Her blood was roaring in her ears as her heart pounded it through her body at top speed. Her self-control was crumbling.

‘We shouldn’t.’ She whispered. Thorin nodded slowly. ‘You’re right. But the heart yearns.’ ‘Are you sure we’re talking about hearts here?’ She purred. He chuckled lightly and Enya reveled in the sound. ‘Among other things.’ He told her. ‘We shouldn’t.’ She said while her hand moved up through the space between them, her fingers reaching for his face. ‘But I’m so-’ ‘Enya.’ Thorin rumbled. His tone was soft, almost pleading. ‘Come here.’

There was no stopping it. Their lips smashed together in a bruising kiss. Enya gripped his head firmly as if she was afraid he’d escape if she didn’t. The wooden door creaked as their bodies crashed against the surface. Thorin worked his mouth against hers, hungrily taking her in while their kiss deepened and his tongue found hers. Bristles of his beard scratched against her cheeks and a whimper escaped her. Thorin’s hands were sliding over her body, eagerly recalling each curve. The rough touch was setting her skin on fire and Enya raked her nails over his neck, earning a low growl in return.

Thorin then hoisted her up against the wooden surface, his hands under her bum to support her weight. His hips rolled against hers, and Enya couldn’t help but moan when she felt his clear desire for her pushing through the fabric of her lingerie. They were almost skin against skin, but still two layers too many covered her own body. Her fingers curled around the braids in his hair, pulling them desperately when Thorin suddenly broke their kiss. He groaned, his lips brushing over her ear before tugging her earlobe with his teeth. ‘We have to stop.’ He growled harshly. ‘I’m losing it.’

Ha, as if they hadn’t lost it earlier on, right after the bet had started.

‘No.’ She begged. ‘I need you.’ ‘We shouldn’t.’ Thorin repeated after her, his eyes flashing with lust and frustration. ‘We already ruined it.’ she murmured as she grasped his chin and tilted it slightly upwards. ‘We already crossed the boundary, why not enjoy it a little more…’ A little love drunk she bit on her lip and sent him a vague smile. She then ran her tongue over her lips and Thorin hissed. Desire was pooling in her stomach, her whole body begging for release. It didn’t matter anymore, the point of their whole bet destroyed now. She needed her aphrodisiac, her drug. No one was here to stop them from doing what they both had wanted, craved for all these long days…

A knock on the door released them from their spell. ‘Thorin?’

It was Balin.

Thorin clenched his jaw and Enya heaved a sigh. ‘A moment.’ He replied while he reluctantly let his queen go. Enya leaned against the door and watched her king pace through the room as he searched for some clothing to throw on. Her body was trembling, furious that it had been disturbed at such an important moment. But now that moment was gone, and knowing Thorin it wouldn’t repeat itself.

‘Oh… that perfect round butt is going to be the death of me…’ her mind dreamed. ‘How are we going to last the remaining days…?’

Well, she wasn’t.

She shrugged as she admitted her defeat and opened the door before she slipped into her dressing room. As soon as the metal clank from the lock sliding in its’ place, informing her she was safe from prying eyes, her legs gave in and she crashed down on the floor.

She just had gotten ready for the day and made her way towards the hall of kings when she almost bumped into another dwarrowdam. ‘Pardon me…’ Enya apologized. ‘I wasn’t paying attention-’ ‘Good morning, my queen.’ Nin greeted her joyfully. ‘I was just looking for you!’ ‘Oh?’ Enya inquired. ‘Did something… happen?’ Nin raised a brow. ‘I see where you are going, but the answer is no. Balin has sent me to fetch you.’ ‘Shame.’ Enya grinned. ‘What does Balin want?’ ‘Emergency meeting before the departure towards the Iron Hills tomorrow.’ ‘And why does he need me?’ Enya said. Her friend opened her mouth to give a reply, but Enya waved dismissively with her hand. ‘No, it can wait. What about Fíli and you all alone in the library? What’s the tea?’ ‘You have introduced us just yesterday, remember?’ Nin reminded her with a smile. Enya giggled. ‘Well, that doesn’t mean things can’t move fast from there…’ Nin snorted and linked her arm with Enya’s. ‘Sounds like you think that every relationship dynamic has to be as passionate and I daresay eventful as yours with Thorin…’ ‘Why do I always have this idea that you’re mocking me somehow but you’re not explicitly telling me?’ Enya mused. ‘Because that’s what I’m here for.’ Nin shrugged. ‘There’s enough backstabbing and lies going around the court as it is. You always need to hear the truth and I will provide you with it anytime.’ ‘Thank you for being a beacon of righteousness and positivity.’ Enya beamed. ‘But you’re drifting away from the topic. What happened after I left? Tell me everything!’ Nin laughed. ‘Okay fine miss impatience, I will swear on the mighty Mahal that I’ll tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.’ ‘NIN!!!’ ‘Well, it wasn’t as exciting as you no doubt want it to be. We drank some more Bourbon and I think he tried to flirt with me.’ ‘He did?!!!’ ‘Well the alcohol was surely loosening up his tongue, so I had so much fun playing around with him.’ Her friend recounted. ‘But since I had to get up early this morning, I retired to my chambers after an hour.’

They strolled through the mountain. As it still was early in the morning, the corridors were deserted and they could speak freely. ‘What about Elmilynn?’ Enya said. ‘I will look into it this morning.’ Her friend replied. ‘But I do have to say when you gave me the assignment, we did forget the trip to the Iron Hills. The Steelstone family will be in Erebor while we are miles away…’ ‘Fuck.’ Enya cursed. ‘Well… let’s say…’ she frowned. ‘Wait, you said that… Balin is staying behind right? If we inform him about this matter, then he’ll be able to keep a watchful eye.’ Nin nodded shortly. ‘Seems like a sensible next step. I’ll see what I can find out today anyway.’ ‘You’re a dime.’ Enya told her. Nin laughed. ‘Any news from you, En?’ she asked. ‘Did you drive Thorin crazy yet?’ ‘The game turned against me.’ Enya confided in her friend. ‘That surely sounds interesting.’ Her lady-in-waiting responded. ‘What happened?’ ‘Not here.’ Enya murmured. Her friend grabbed her queen by the arm and pulled her into a storeroom nearby. Just when Enya opened her mouth, a pair of other nobles chose to walk by, chatting animatedly about the prices of gold. Enya rolled her eyes and Nin grimaced. They waited until the dwarves had passed and their voices were no more than echoes in the distance.

‘The whole thing blew up in my face.’ Enya confessed. ‘Why am I not surprised?’ Nin giggled. ‘Ugh, hush.’ Enya groaned. ‘So last night, I was flaunting my wares in front of him and he wouldn’t budge. I told myself that it didn’t matter, that tomorrow there would a new day full of opportunities to drive him insane.’ She paused to rub her temples. ‘Guess what.’ ‘What?’ Nin repeated, her eyes shining with delight. ‘What did he do?’ ‘I wake up, in the middle of the night, and the bastard is fucking relieving himself!’ Enya hissed. ‘He still had the nerve to tell me that I was in his presence, so he wasn’t cheating…’ ‘He didn’t!’ her friend cried out while her mouth curved into an devious smile. ‘No, oh En that is terrible… that’s…’

They couldn’t help themselves. Nin sniggered and Enya bit her lip to prevent herself from bursting into laughter, but a giggle escaped nonetheless. Before she knew it, a second giggle followed and after that there was no way stopping it anymore. The laughter took over their senses and Enya had to grab one of the racks that stood in the room to stop herself from crashing on the floor. Nin leaned against the door, giggling hysterically. Jolts of pain rolled through Enya’s abdomen and she gripped her belly in an attempt to make it stop.

‘What a clever bastard!’ Nin hickuped when the worst fit was over. She wiped the tears from her cheeks. ‘What did you do?’ Enya heaved a sigh. ‘You know me. I completely lost my shit and stalked off towards the guest chambers.’ ‘And now what?’ her friend asked, grinning. ‘Oh, I’m not done.’ Enya winced. ‘There’s more?!’ ‘I had this extremely… dissatisfying dream last night, so when returned to our quarters this morning I still was… bothered.’ Enya continued. ‘Naturally, we got into a fight and then things kinda escalated.’ ‘You fucked it up?!!!’ Nin shrieked. ‘Almost.’ Enya admitted. ‘He had me pinned against the door and then it just… we cracked. We started kissing and we would have gone a lot further if Balin hadn’t knocked on the door.’ Her friend clasped her hand before her mouth. ‘Poor Balin!’ ‘Poor me!’ Enya whined. ‘I have fucked it up royally, and I still didn’t get any.’ ‘Oh, you poor soul.’ Her lady-in-waiting jested. ‘So does that mean everyone in Erebor will get a rest and you two stop driving each other mad with this ridiculous bet?’ Enya shrugged. ‘I have no idea. We haven’t discussed it yet.’ ‘Don’t do that.’ Nin advised. ‘For the sake of everyone: abandon the no touching rule.’ Enya rolled her eyes. ‘And giving up so easily?’ ‘Well… you both tried… and failed miserably.’ Nin told her and she laughed when Enya scowled into her direction. She opened the door again and nudged her queen to follow. ‘Now let’s go, we can’t make Balin wait for us.’

The meeting passed swiftly. After all the hassle that came with the bet, Enya almost had forgotten about their trip to the Iron Hills. Cousin Daín Ironfoot loved his parties and every year he hosted this banquet where all the kingly dwarven couples in the area were obliged to join in on. Because Thorin and Enya hadn’t been able to make up a good reason to let is pass by this year, they had arranged for a few willing nobles to travel ahead with necessities. They would leave a few days later and catch up with the others on the road. Thorin had said he had some goat matters to attend to before he could leave, but Enya knew Balin could have handled that as well. Thorin just really wanted to spend some precious alone time with his queen. As far as Enya was concerned, after this last meeting everything was set for the trip. She had chosen Nin and one of her favorite chambermaids to guard the wagon with all of her dresses (and boy, there were needed more than she’d like) and other necessities. While Balin would stay home to man the fort, Dwalin and Fíli were coming along with them, as well as two of Thorin’s servants. Lord Whitheart had also enthusiastically offered himself for this trip, but after a quick glance at his queen, Thorin had told the dwarf lord his services in Erebor were much more needed.

Enya watched the room emptying itself before Balin, Fíli, Nin and herself were the last ones inside. There had been one thing that disturbed her deeply and that was lord Steelstone’s presence. The dwarf lord (who had slipped into the meeting effortlessly) had stepped in and offered his services to the king. Thorin had agreed, although somewhat reluctantly. Enya couldn’t help but wonder why lord Steelstone would want to accompany them on the journey, but she doubted his intentions were honorable. On the other hand, it would be hard to cause mayhem while under the scrutinizing looks of the king’s most loyal subjects.

‘Balin?’ Enya asked while shutting the door to avoid others listening in. ‘Yes, my queen?’ the old dwarf smiled fondly while holding a scroll in its place to let it dry. ‘Can I confide in you?’ Balin looked up, his eyes flashing briefly towards Nin and Fíli before focusing on his queen again. ‘If there’s something you wish to tell me, you’re most welcome to share, sweetheart.’

Sweetheart. Enya smirked and shook her head. From all the dwarves in Erebor, Balin was the only one that could give the queen a pet name and live to tell the tale. Thorin still was quite protective of his queen, but since he and Balin had been friends for ages, he allowed it. Enya, in turn, called the dwarf an old goat: a name he wore with pride.

‘They already know.’ Enya told him with a gesture at the others. Balin nodded. ‘It’s the Steelstone family!’ she then burst out. ‘Something is very off about them, but I can’t tell what exactly. It’s driving me insane.’ ‘You don’t trust them.’ Balin mused. ‘Neither do I.’ Nin said. ‘I’ve seen Elmilynn trail Thorin faster than a bear can find honey…’ ‘And lord Steelstone was quite eager to join our little company, wasn’t he?’ Fíli contributed. ‘I can’t say I haven’t observed these things too.’ Balin responded. ‘But they haven’t done something wrong.’ ‘Yet.’ Enya countered. ‘They are concocting something and I’d like to know wat before it causes any trouble.’ The old dwarf rolled up the parchment, carefully checking if the written messages had dried enough already. ‘It’s wise not to trust them.’ He said. ‘I have tried to find out myself where they came from, but any record that I’ve consulted remains quite vague.’ ‘I’ve researched their name last night. It’s unfamiliar in this area.’ Fíli agreed. ‘That is, if they use their real name.’ Enya shot her nephew an appreciative glance and he winked. ‘I asked Fíli to watch lord Steelstone.’ she elaborated. ‘And Nin is finding out what dear Elmilynn is hiding. I fear they are going to hurt Thorin in some way…’ ‘Does the king know of your plans?’ Balin inquired gently. ‘Not yet.’ Enya gave in, wincing under the dwarf’s knowing stare. ‘But I guess I have to tell him. He hates it when I do things behind his back, but I don’t want to burden him more than necessary.’ ‘If it’s enough to keep you awake at night, I’m sure Thorin would like to hear about it.’ Balin mused. Enya heaved a sigh. ‘You’re right, as always. I’ll see to it, then.’ ‘Another thing, if I may be so bold.’ Nin said. ‘After tomorrow, Fíli and I will be on the road, watching lord Steelstone. But what about Elmilynn? She will stay behind.’ ‘I’ll keep an eye on her.’ Balin promised. ‘I don’t think she’ll cause much trouble without her dad around, but…’ ‘Maybe this is the opportunity she has been waiting for.’ Fíli said. ‘Well…’ Balin replied while standing up from his seat. ‘If that’s the case, we’ll make sure to be ready for her…’

It was late in the evening when she retired to the royal quarters. Save for the emergency meeting this morning, Enya hadn’t seen Thorin all day and she was longing for him. Granted, she probably couldn’t curl up on his lap, but being in his presence would suffice. They had to talk about what happened this morning. Furthermore, she knew she owed him an apology for her behavior towards him. She had almost had used the recollections of the dark days of his gold sickness as a weapon, and the mere memory made her skin crawl. When she walked into their bedroom, Thorin was sitting in one of the armchairs by the fire. He was staring into the flames and didn’t acknowledge her arrival like he usually did. Enya quietly sat down in the other chair and watched her king’s features. He seemed to be in deep thought and it almost felt a crime to disturb him.

‘Hi.’ She murmured softly. Thorin snapped from his thoughts and gave her a small smile. ‘Good evening, my queen.’ ‘About this morning…’ she began. ‘I’d like you to know that I’m sorry. I… I have said things I shouldn’t.’ He inclined his head. ‘I know. You’re forgiven.’ ‘No.’ she told him. Thorin frowned. ‘You’re going to argue over the fact that I forgive you?’ ‘I don’t want you to brush it over like it was nothing.’ She admitted. ‘My actions were wrong and I acted like a total psycho.’ She paused to take a deep breath. ‘And you were right. I’m so hot and bothered I don’t even know how to think straight anymore.’ Thorin reached for his goblet of wine on the table and studied its decorations extensively. Enya tried to relax in her seat, but her eyes were focused on the thick fingers caressing the metal. Ugh, she so wished it was her skin. ‘Well…’ Thorin finally rumbled. ‘Since you’ve asked for it, I’ll find an appropriate way to right your wrongdoings, then.’ He shot her a mischievous glance and a pleasant jolt shot through her body. Enya bit her lip. ‘I’m curious to find out what you come up with, my king.’ ‘Who says you’ll like it?’ he informed her. ‘You bastard. You’re not helping.’ She breathed. ‘That’s part of the game, isn’t it?’ he purred while locking eyes with her. ‘So we’re continuing our deal?’ she inquired softly. ‘We kind of fucked it up this morning.’ Thorin cocked a brow. ‘You wanted to play, so we will.’ ‘I’m not going to like this, am I?’ she wondered. Thorin grinned. ‘That depends on if you will finally give in to my proposition, uzfakuh.’ ‘Oh.’ She giggled. ‘But before we do that, let’s discuss the new terms shall we?’

Thank you for reading this chapter. If you loved it, please help me out by spreading my work with a reblog <3.

Masterlist | The bet Phase I | The bet Phase II

#thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x oc #thorin x oc #thorin oakenshield x original character #the hobbit #thorin smut #thorin oakenshield smut #the bet series #thorin x enya #who are you betting on #phase III Plateau #onto phase IV

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violetsmoak · 6 years ago

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No Safety or Surprise [Part I - Excerpt]

Summary: A haunting broadcast reveals the Joker’s final act and sets off a chain of events that will destroy the world. Terry finds himself collaborating once more with the estranged members of Bruce’s former team. As the end nears, however, he and the other Bats are faced with hard choices about survival—and forgiveness.

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything to do with Batman. I don’t make any money off this. It’s just me playing in a sandbox. (And I’ll put a better disclaimer on this at some other point.)

Author’s Note: First fic in the Batman universe, yay! (Well, second, but the first one was high school ago and was a blatant self-insert lol). I’ve been toying with this idea for a while now. It’s taken some in-depth planning, but I finally have something to show for it. This is only one part of a very large first chapter, but I thought I’d throw it out there into cyberspace and see what people think. I’ll post it here in mini excerpts, but eventually I’ll put it on FF.Net and Ao3, once it’s all shiny and edited.

Spoilers: Everything in Batman Beyond until but not including the “Rewired” storyline or anything afterward. Also, references to events and characters present in the DC ‘verse up to the New 52 (after the “Robin Rises” story arc) but before Rebirth. (And JFC do I hate keeping all these timelines straight!)

Warnings: Leading up to canon-divergence; eventual main character deaths (except not really, because timey wimey stuff); a few minor original characters; multiple POVs

Timeline: Takes place after the events of 10 000 Clowns but before Terry McGinnis graduates high school.

Bruce is beginning to wonder if a Lazarus Pit might not have been a better idea than the liver transplant. Of the methods for artificially prolonging life, at least with the Pit, he would eventually start to feel like he was recovering.

After the madness subsided, at least.

On days like today—when it’s damp and chilly, and there’s nothing going on in Gotham to keep him glued to the computer screen in the Cave—it’s hard to remember the arguments he’s always made against using the restorative powers of a Lazarus Pit. He body protests with every movement as he eases it through several slowed kata variations. Part of his physical therapy, as suggested (ordered) by his doctors.

Since his procedure, he feels the exhaustion much more keenly. It’s a bone-deep fatigue that seeps into every muscle, emphasizing the way his bones creak and grind against each other, cartilage worn away from age and decades of abuse. It’s the way his energy levels drain so much faster no, to the extent that even his usual ability to will himself into action seems to wane every day.

Not that he really had a choice in the matter. He was in end stage liver failure, and the nearest Pit is in New Cuba. He’d just been lucky that there was a suitable donor in the hospital at the right time.

‘Luck’ is one word for it. ‘Cruel irony’ might be a better phrase.

Douglas Tan is one of the names he’s going to carry on his conscience for the rest of his life; or, at least on his liver.

Terry still makes jokes about Batman having a piece of a Joker inside him, but then Terry tends to use humor to cover up when he’s worried. Dick always did that, too; and Jason.

Bruce scowls, bothered by the direction of his thoughts, as well as the raggedness to his breath. He isn’t even moving very fast, but it’s taking him every bit of strength to keep at it.

Ace is curled up in his usual spot in the cave, watching Bruce with what seems to be narrowed eyes. As if to say, don’t overdo it or I will knock you over.

He knows the dog is smarter than most people.

Ace is one of the reasons the doctors were willing to leave him to pursue recovery on his own and not under some beady-eyed nurse in hospital. Money isn’t as much an incentive as it once was, with so many legal and health standards in the way; the older he gets, the less likely people are to trust his ability to make decisions, lawyers or not.

He tolerated a private nurse for about a day while having Terry make other arrangements and manufacturing a piece of paper saying Ace was a certified service dog. He’s not, but Bruce has no doubt the dog would activate the medical alert button at the computer if something were to happen. And Terry has an alarm set up, keyed into the surveillance and motion sensors in the Cave. If anything were to happen, he can be here faster than any ambulance.

Old age has fed into long-buried fears, and it gives him an embarrassing sense of relief knowing there’s someone to look in on him. It has always bothered him, being dependent—being weak.

Some days he’s more accepting of it; some days he wishes he had Kryptonian DNA.

Which is usually the point at which he forces himself to occupy his mind with other things, because envying Clark Kent can only lead down a dark, frustrating path of self-pity. One he’s determinedly avoided ever since meeting the other man.

After another fifteen minutes of forcing himself to think about nothing but the movement of his limbs, Bruce finally finishes his exercises. Sweat coats his back and his limbs ache with the same burn as if he just spent several hours grappling through the Gotham skyline. Even if it took less challenging movements to reach this point, that burn is comforting.

Familiar.

And that’s a word that’s been cropping up more in his thoughts lately. History tends to repeat, after all, but it’s still strange to experience. Terry’s been an excellent example of that.

Like Bruce, the McGinnis boy started out with nothing but a suit and an old man’s voice in his ear. Now, he’s got a network. Friends who he trusts and who will keep his secret. A steadily growing list of allies in the field.

The Police Commissioner. The Justice League.

And a Catwoman too, for Christ sakes.

He wonders what Selina would think about that.

Bruce just hopes the kid won’t make his mistakes. Forty years is a long time to rack up regrets.

At least Dick’s back in contact now.

Sort of.

He showed up the second night that Bruce was recovering from his procedure at the hospital; he’d managed to convince Terry to go out on patrol instead of wasting his time watching an old man sleep.

“Batman doesn’t get a day off.”

Bruce had dosed for a bit, but not deeply; it wasn’t difficult to discern that he wasn’t alone.

One minute the room was empty and in the next, Bruce could feel that familiar presence—the one of a man who had carried the mantles of Robin, Nightwing and Batman—and somehow lived to tell the tale. Then his estranged son was stepping out of the shadows, glaring down at him, muscles in his jaw working and fists clenching and unclenching.

“I know what you’re going to say,” Bruce had croaked, wishing he had thought to ask for ice chips before the nurse left. “I’m too stubborn to die.”

The silence hanging afterward was filled with everything he couldn’t say yet. For once, Dick didn’t call him on it.

“You’re more stubborn than God,” his boy countered.

(He’ll always be a boy to Bruce, grey hair and eye-patch be damned.)

And yet, he sat, arms crossed and spine stiff for the rest of the night. Still angry, but there nonetheless. He stayed until morning rounds without saying anything, and then left.

They haven’t seen each other since, but sometimes Bruce can hear feedback on the comms when he’s directing Terry’s patrols. The tinny whisper of signals crossing from the bug he pretends he doesn’t know Dick planted on the underside of his medical ID tag.

It’s not much, but it’s something. The opening of the possibility that at some point, he’ll come around.

Barbara did, after all.

Mostly because of Terry, but afterward Bruce started making the effort. They can have conversations alone now that don’t end with her yelling at him (or punching him, on one or two memorable occasions). Bruce forgot how much he enjoyed her sense of humor and intelligence—how much he enjoyed their friendship—from before they slept together.

(That might be one of his life’s biggest shames. Oh, he has regrets associated with all of the family for one thing or another, but this is the one that still wakes him up at night feeling dirty.)

In a way, it’s easier with Tim, and that’s a bridge Bruce thought had been obliterated long ago.

Granted, he’s leaving Gotham again—the last incident with the Joker army rattled him enough that he put in for a transfer to the Chinese division of Wayne Enterprises—but he stuck around long enough to collaborate with Bruce on a subdermal antitoxin deployment implant against Joker venom.

(None of them want to be caught unawares again.)

It’s in the prototype phase, with only five of the devices in existence; he, Tim and Terry are testing them personally. It’s not exactly something the FDA is going to approve for human testing anytime soon, not with all the new legislation, but with the state of Gotham, it’s unwise to wait on it.

(He sent one to Barbara and one to Dick but doesn’t know if they’ve bothered to activate them. At least they haven’t sent them back.)

If the implant works, Bruce is seriously considering modifying the tech for the Wayne Enterprises medical division. There are a lot of illnesses and viruses out there which require regular dosages of medicine to keep them under control.

Maybe that’s the next project, after CAIN, he muses, grabbing his towel from where he draped it over one of the computer processors.

His global Clean Air Initiative Network is something he’d been working on before stepping back from the company. It was shelved almost immediately by Derek Powers when he took over, but since Bruce has been back, he’s been revisiting a lot of old projects.

Lucius’ boy did most of the technical work on it, and Foxtecha will have joint ownership of the patent when it’s ready for public consumption. Bruce would have asked Tim, but he knows how determined he is to get out of Gotham. He can read it in the tone of his emails, which have thankfully lost the stilted, formal business tone they’ve had since he returned to the company.

(Bruce mentioned paying a visit in the future, and Tim didn’t say no, so he counts that as a win.)

It’s a little disconcerting how the family is coming together again; disconcerting but welcome.

He’s received a vid call last week from Cassandra expressing concern over his surgery, and then a short, gruff email from Duke all-but ordering him to get better. There’s even a letter from Stephanie—or Eurus, as she goes by these days—smelling of dust and desert sun and incense found only in Nanda Parbat. Her messy, looping scrawl, echoed Dick’s sentiment about Bruce’s stubbornness and alluded to its genetic inheritability.

(That said more than if she had actually mentioned Damian outright.)

Bruce lost track of her not long after his son’s short and brutal stint under the cowl; it had surprised him to find out she ended up in Tibet.

It also relieved him. Because no matter how dark a path his son wandered, there would be someone to challenge him. To not obey without question. To give him a link to the life he once had, to being human and alive.

(Bruce very carefully doesn’t think about Jason—doesn’t wonder if things had been different, if he wouldn’t have reached out as well. Even after so many years, that wound is still raw.)

The whole thing is a stark difference from the last few times he ended up in the hospital, including when he was dosed on Joker venom several months ago. He didn’t hear anything from them at that point, which makes him think someone really thought he was dying this time and reached out.

Barbara, maybe. Or Dick. However much tension there is between himself and Bruce, he does keep in touch with the others.

Hell, it might even have been Terry. The kid doesn’t know the rest of them personally, but he’s gotten adept at navigating the computer in the cave. And he’s always been curious about his predecessors.

Bruce’s first family.

Or maybe just the first phase of the family.

Bruce shies away from that secret bit of knowledge he has about Terry, and his brother Matt. What he discovered the first time the kid returned to the Cave with bloody gashes that needed stitching up. The files and medical information buried beneath every firewall he could fashion, so the boy never stumbles upon it accidentally.

The most he’s allowed himself to acknowledge it is an amendment in his will setting aside trust funds for both boys.

As if triggered by his thoughts, the screen of the Bat-Computer flickers to life. He rolls his shoulders, expecting an alert on some heist or robbery going on in the city; another case to add to the docket for Terry to investigate after school (depending on the severity).

Bruce doesn’t expect the Cave to suddenly fill with a jaunty, haunting carnival tune that makes his entire body seize in recognition. And yet, he already knows what’s coming even before the words HA HA HA coalesce upon the screen.

TBC

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sparingiscaring · 7 years ago

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Memories of Frost

A Ghostblossom Fic, cowritten by @finalpam8000 (go give him some love)

TW For Suicide Mention

Cagney was sitting his garden watering the other plants, admiring how the leaves managed continuously keep their bright green hue. He felt a twinge of pride and smiled. He had done a good job, taking good care of the little ones!

The Blind Specter appeared behind him suddenly from a bluish patch of haze, holding his hands up so he could see what Cagney was doing. “Hi, Cagney!” He greeted, smiling.

Cagney jumped at the unexpected sound, shrieking. “AHH!” He fell back onto the ground with a soft “thud!” He instinctively glared up at what had startled him.

The Specter floated back a bit. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!” He held his hands to his face, his cheeks flushed a darker blue in embarrassment.

Cagney took a deep breath, and his face softened. “It’s okay…”

“What were you doing…?” Blind Specter asked, angling his hands down at the ground in an attempt to not make eye contact with Cagney

“Watering the little ones.” He pointed to his bright red watering pail, sitting on its side a few yards away.

“Oh, that’s nice!” Blind Specter smiled slightly, glancing up and looking a bit better.

“Yeah, the rain is a bit late this month so I need to help them grow strong!” Cagney explained, smiling a small smile. “I have to make sure they’re healthy, so winter won’t be as hard on them.

“That’s a good cause.” Blind Specter said, bending down to look at the flowers. “It sure looks like the water helped… ”

“You think so!” Cagney grinned happily.

“Yeah! These little guys look really healthy.”

Cagney blushed, his cheeks turning a light orange color. “Well, I always try my best with the little ones!”

Blind Specter gently patted the flowers, so his hands wouldn’t phase through them, then floated up to face Cagney. “I can see that. You should be proud of how well you’ve taken care of them!” He saw Cagney’s blush and blushed back.

“So what brings you here?” Cagney asked.

Blind Specter blushed even more. “N-Nothing, really. I just thought dropping by to see you would be nice!”

“Aww!” Cagney’s blush increased.

The Blind Specter smiled. Cagney looked really cute when he blushed…

“So… uh! You want to go hang out some place or stay here?” Cagney had had what he called “a tiny crush” on Specter for a while. In all actuality, it was a very large crush. but he could never find the courage to tell him.

“Whatever you w-want!” Specter said, stuttering slightly and blushing more. He had only realized that he liked Cagney a few days ago, so he was still in the stage where all he could do was mumble, have his face flush dark blue, and try to sound like he was not at all interested in Cagney. His performance wasn’t convincing to many besides the flower himself.

Cagney thought about it for a few moments, before suggesting something. “We could get something to eat!”

“Okay!” Blind Specter replied, grinning happily.

“Let’s to Baroness von Bon Bon’s new restaurant!”

The Blind Specter nodded. It would be like he and Cagney were going on a date! But not really… Well, the Specter could pretend!

Cagney held out his hand to Specter, very excited for their totally, 100% platonic date! Just two friends! Nothing more!

Specter popped out one of his eyes so there’d be no weird eye touching, then took Cagney’s hand.

Cagney’s blush was starting to even change the tint of his pedals, he and his crush began walking through grassy meadows towards inkwell isle two.

Specter floated along beside Cagney, glancing over at the cute flower every few seconds. He was so, so excited to be spending time with Cagney.

“So how has working on the train been like?” Cagney asked, trying to make conversation.

“It’s been alright. Taking people to the afterlife is fun!“ Specter replied.

Cagney smiled, his blush returning to manageable levels, “That’s good!”

"It is! And there’s less people dying recently, so I get to take more time off.”

“Cool!!”

“How’s your… g-garden going?” Specter asked, trying to keep the conversation going, but forgetting they had already talked about Cagney’s garden.

“Good! Some cattails have begun sprouting by the creek and some of the little flowers should soon be able to leave and make their own way in the world!”

“Oh! That’s nice.” Specter said, his blush growing fainter.

“It’s a little lonely though…”Cagney sighed, his face becoming long. "Ever since the root pack left I haven’t really had anyone to talk to…”

“Aww…” Specter didn’t like seeing Cagney look sad. “Well, I like talking to you! So I’ll drop by and see you more! …if you want…”

Cagney’s grin and blush picked up again, his eyes glittering with hope and the feeling that one receives after hearing the best news of their day, “That would be wonderful!!”

Blind Specter’s entire face went dark blue. “Oh!! O-okay!!!”

“Yeah! That would be r-really nice!!!!”

Specter squeezed Cagney’s hand and grinned. “It will be nice!!” He liked seeing Cagney blush like that! He didn’t know why the flower was doing that, though.

“Super!! Nice!!!!” Cagney exclaimed, before walking straight into a wall.

Specter phased through the wall but popped his head and free hand back out of it a second later. “Cagney!!! Are you alright?!”

“I think so,” Cagney said in an annoyed grumble, his face that of a man who is experiencing the largest reasonable amount of anger towards a building’s architecture.

Blind Specter floated out of the wall completely. “Are you sure??” He asked, very concerned as he stared down at the upset flower.

Cagney took a deep breath, “I’ll be fine…”

“I’m sorry… I saw the wall but forgot that you couldn’t… pass through it…” Specter admitted, his embarrassment plain on his face.

Cagney took another deep breath before putting back on his happier face, “It’s fine!” He exclaimed, his voice high pitched and joyful.

Specter felt terrible inside. How could he have let his not-quite-date get hurt?

Cagney stood up and dusted himself off.

Specter floated back a bit, giving him some space. He could see that Cagney was smiling again, but a part of him felt like the flower was still a bit miffed.

“Well, at least we’re at the place!”

Specter looked up at the sugary pink and blue building. “Oh, we are!”

The two of them went inside. A jawbreaker waiter stood in front of them, “Welcome to Sugar on Ink™!!! The only restaurant to serve both sugar and ink!” He exclaimed, a wide smile on his face.

“A table for two, please!” Specter exclaimed.

“Alright!” The jawbreaker led them to a table, and they both sat down. There was a long silence, as both Cagney and Spector tried to think of what to talk about.

“Hey… I’m sorry if I came off as rude earlier.” Cagney said

“It’s alright! I’m still sorry I didn’t warn you.”

Cagney smiled slightly, “It’s fine, I should have been watching where I was going.”

The conversation fell into a lull as the two of them glanced down at their menus, searching for something to order. The restaurant served mostly just sweets and candies, but there were a few other types of items available.

“Oh! The Ceramic Panic looks good!” Spector exclaimed, licking his ghostly lips.

“I like the Ink and Tortured Souls of the Damned with Waffles!” Cagney replied, pointing at the item in the menu. The picture next to it was a stack of waffles, drenched in a thick syrup of soul juice.

Specter shrugged. “That’s not crunchy enough for me. Eating a literal ceramic bowl is more of my style!” His nonexistent stomach grumbled at the prospect of those delicious, crunchy bowls.

“Ahh, perhaps we can also get a bowl of jawbreakers to share!” Cagney suggested, trying to think of something crunchy that they’d both enjoy.

“That would be great!” The Specter exclaimed.

“Okay!” Cagney smiled blushing, happy that they would be sharing their food.

Specter blushed a bit. “I hope our waiter doesn’t feel weird about that…”

“Yeah…”

After a few minutes, the jawbreaker waiter came back to their table. “Are you two ready to order?”

“Yes! Can I have the Ceramic Panic?” Specter ordered.

“And I’d like an Ink and Tortured Souls of the Damned with Waffles!”

“And we’d also like some… uh…” Specter hesitated, before softly saying, "… jawbreakers…“

“Okay!” The waiter exclaimed.

“You don’t think that’s weird?” Cagney asked.

“I don’t think anything. I am simply designed to wait tables.”

Blind Specter looked a bit uncomfortable. "That’s… weird and… very depressing…”

“I wish I could feel.”

Specter gave Cagney a face of horror, fear, and the utmost sorrow for the poor jawbreaker.

Cagney pated the jawbreaker’s back awkwardly, “Don’t worry, I’m sure you will feel something some day…”

“And if you can’t, you will when you die! I can feel! Wait…” Specter’s mind dropped into a deep, dark pit. “What was I… when I was alive…?” His face turned to his hands. “Why do I have eyes… in my hands…?”

Cagney felt a wave of despair, as he had known Specter when he was alive. He had never realized the Specter didn’t remember that.

Specter shook his hands, and his eyes popped out. They rolled away, but two more appeared in his hands. “Why can I… do that…?” He sounded so confused and sad.

Cagney tried to console Specter, not noticing how his eyes were tearing up. “Specter, I remember you telling me that a ghosts abilities are representative of their life. And when you were alive you would always take action!! When y-you were aliv-alive you would always take action, an-and try to help!” Tears began rolling down his petals.

Specter’s empty eye socket was welling up with tears. “Y-you knew me when I was alive…? I-is that why I d-don’t remember the first t-time we met?! Be-because it was before-before I died?!”

“I-I di-didn’t kn-know you forgot! I thought you re-remen-remembered!!!” Cagney was sobbing large tears of nectar falling out of his eyes.

“C-Cagney, don’t cry!!” Specter zoomed through the table and hugged Cagney. “D-don’t cry!! D-don’t c-cry!!” He sobbed, burying his face in Cagney’s petals.

“You don-don’t remember that beautif-beautiful fall day we met?” Cagney’s words were being drowned by his tears.

“No!! N-n-no I d-don’t!!!!” Blind Specter wailed, hugging Cagney tighter.

“And how you saved me and the othe-other flowers?”

“I s-saved y-y-you??!” Specter asked, crying a little less hard.

“Y-yeah! It was gonna ne-be the first frost a-an-and I did-didn’t have enough money to b-buy any sorta protection for me and the oth-other flowers!!!” Cagney explained, “But then you saw how we wouldn’t make it!! And gave us all your coins to buy a-a blanket and a small heating potion!”

“O-oh…” Specter said softly, his tears slowing even more. He wished he had remembered that… it was so important to Cagney…

Cagney tried hugging Specter tighter but the extra pressure made his hands phase right through Specter. His body couldn’t compensate for the give and he flopped onto the floor. Cagney began sobbing louder.

Specter felt Cagney’s body fall through him, and his socket started to cry again. Even his hands were getting watery. He floated where he was, sobbing loudly as he realized that Cagney could hardly even hug him.

Cagney wailed louder, the man he loved couldn’t remember the single most important event that made Cagney love him or even hug him tightly. How could this happen? How could Cagney go on?!

Specter wailed in sadness. He wished he could remember. He wished he knew what he was, but… but he wished he remembered Cagney more. He wished he remembered saving him, and he wished he remembered every conversation, every meeting, every single memory they were supposed to share. But he couldn’t, and he never would, and all he could do was weep.

“I-I ne-need to go!!!” Cagney cried before standing up and running out of the restaurant sobbing.

Specter fell through the table and onto the floor, sobbing.

Cagney ran, ran for a long time to his crying slowed enough for him to get his bearings and walk home sobbing.

Specter fell into the floor, too distraught to float back up out of the ground.

Cagney walked back to his garden and flopped onto his bed of soil feeling as though a part of him died.

Specter slowly calmed down somewhat, and his falling slowed. He stopped completely about a yard underneath the ground and wiped away his tears.

One of the flowers in Cagney’s garden asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Specter doesn’t remember how he saved us!” Cagney sobbed

“Oh… so?” The flower asked.

“So!!!” Cagney screeched, “So he doesn’t know how much time we spent together!!! How we c-cared for each other!! All our ad-adventures!!!” Cagney was sobbing again, “So he won’t understand why I was s-so devastated by his d-death!!! And he w-won’t know… how much I love him!!!!!” Cagney fell back to the ground sobbing.

Specter, from his spot underground, sighed sadly. He felt horrible. His dinner with Cagney was ruined, and it was all his fault! And now Cagney was upset, and he probably would never want to speak to him again… and Specter would never get to tell him how he felt…

“After the scene I made, he’ll probably be happier if I just disappear…” Cagney’s tears fell like dew drops onto the cold ground.

“After how I made him feel…” Specter sniffled. “… he’ll never want to see me again…”

“I might as well just shrivel up and die….” His hands were shaking.

Specter shuddered slightly. “I should go back… to the train…” he mumbled, floating up out of the ground.

Cagney’s tears sped up, “Then I won’t have to remember any of this…”

Specter dejectedly started floating towards Inkwell Isle 3, but he hesitated right before crossing over to it. He… should he go see Cagney? To apologize…?

“Then I can be a ghost, and maybe actually hug him!” Cagney said, a small smile appearing on his face.

Specter just floated in place, unsure of what to do. He squeezed his hands into fists, but then realized something. He opened one hand, his unseeing face staring down at his seeing eye. Cagney said that he would always take action when he was alive…

Specter turned around and floated towards Inkwell Isle 1.

Cagney heard a bell from the center of Inkwell Isle 1. The frost was coming. He smiled wider through the tears, knowing he wouldn’t need to wait long. But he needed to do something first. Cagney pulled out a piece of paper, along with a pen, and began to write.

Specter heard the bell, and his empty eye socket widened. The frost… Cagney…! He floated as fast as he could to Cagney’s garden.

Cagney had penned a letter to the Root Pack, saying how they would need to take care of the little flowers once he was gone. Once he had made sure the little ones were safe and warm he left the warming area that was created from his now-null deal with the devil and sat next to the stump of his long-dead father. He felt the chill begin to creep through him.

Specter didn’t know how, but he knew how cold the island was getting. He appeared in the warm area of the garden, frantically looking around for Cagney. He spotted the flower not far away and cried out desperately as he rushed over. “Cagney!!!”

Cagney was barely awake when he saw Specter, “I knew it…” he smiled weakly then shivered.

Specter grabbed Cagney’s hand, trying to pull the flower towards the warm spot. “C-Cagney!!! Cagney, pl-please… the frost…!” The Blind Specter whimpered, tears streaming down his face.

“It’s too late for that… I doubt even Dr. Kahl could save me. But that doesn’t matter because soon we’ll be together!” Cagney coughed, feeling the cold sink its fangs into him.

Specter gasped. “Oh Cagney, n-no!! I can’t… you c-can’t…” More tears ran down his face. “I don’t w-want you to die! I don’t want you to for-forget me!!” He tried to think of something, anything he could do!

Cagney looked up, a single tear rolling down his cheek, “But then we can start a-again, have adventures, leave the old painful memories, and forge new ones.”

“B-but C-Ca-Cagney… I can’t let you… cause I… I… I… I love you!!!” Specter collapsed on top of Cagney, weeping.

“You do?” Cagney felt his eyes tearing up.

“Yes!!!” Specter wailed, hugging Cagney as tight as he could

Cagney hugged back, his fingers frozen, “I-I love you too!” His voice was still weak but filled with passion and emotions, “I’ve loved you si-since we first met!”

“And I can’t- I can’t let you- let you d-d-d-” Specter couldn’t even choke out the word, so he just cried out, “I can’t let you freeze!!! Who can help?! Who?!!”

“Dr. Kahl might…” Cagney smiled, “But even if it’s too late, I’m just so, so happy that you love me.”

Specter sat up and looked around. "It’s not too l-late!!!” Specter tried to reassure Cagney. “There’s n-not enough time to get him and come back…. b-but I might! I might!” Specter looked down at Cagney, took a deep breath. “I h-h-hope this works…” He slid his ghostly hands underneath Cagney and picked him up.

Cagney opened his eyes wide. He remembered this feeling, it was when he was still but a small flower and he had fallen and broken his leg stem and had to be taken to the doctor’s. Specter had to carry him all the way there, the feeling of security he had in his arms, the solidness, even the texture of the hands. It was all the same, he looked up at Specter.

Specter stared down at Cagney, shocked. A grin broke out on his face, and he clutched Cagney tight to his chest. He cradled the flower’s head, holding him as gently as he could. Then Specter flew, faster than he ever had before, with the love of his life and afterlife in his arms, towards Dr. Kahl’s.

Cagney wrapped his arms around the spirit.

They ran through the icy meadows of inkwell isle, the sound of the crashing waves ringing in Specter’s lack of ears.

“You know the moment I realized that you were you?” Cagney asked in a faint whisper, “It was after those Cups beat the Devil, during the celebration I saw you standing there, and your hands. Those beautiful yellow eyes in your palms. I had only once seen eyes like those once before, I knew it had to be you… so beautiful…” Cagney closed his eyes but continued to take labored breaths.

It seemed like both no time and an eternity had passed before Specter found the mad scientist, tinkering with a machine. “Dr. Kahl, please, we need your help!!” Specter exclaimed, his desperation almost palpable in his words.

“What do you need, my ghostly friend?” Dr. Kahl asked, not looking away from his robot

“Cagney, he was in the f-frost, and he’s fre-freezing, and I n-need you t-to s-save him!!” Specter cried out as tears flooded from his face and hands.

“What?!!!” Dr. Kahl stood up immediately and when to grab Cagney. “Why was he out in the frost?!!! That could kill him!!!

“He was tr-trying t-to- it’s all m-m-m-my-” Specter sputtered out through the tears.

“Nevermind! Nevermind! What we need to do is get him a pot and some soil!!!”

“Okay!!” Specter nodded, disappearing into a blue haze.

Doctor Kah began hurriedly rummaged in a large cabinet labeled, “Herbology,” before pulling several UV lights and a watering pail.

Specter reappeared with a large pot, almost overfilled with soil, the “Porkrind’s Emporium” tag still attached to it.

“Excellent!!!” Dr. Kahl grabbed the pot put a little of his “Atomic Miracle Grow™” in before placing Cagney in as well and adding some water.

Specter’s teeth chattered as he waited to see if Cagney would thaw out.

Cagney slowly opened his eyes.

Specter beamed. “Cagney…!”

“Specter!!!” Cagney exclaimed, before recoiling back and wincing.

“Take it easy lad! You just had a near-fatal experience!” Dr. Kahl ordered.

“Oh Cagney, never scare me like that again!!!” Specter exclaimed, his voice overlapping with Dr. Kahl’s.

“I’m still alive?!?!” Cagney asked confused and excited.

“Yes!! Yes, you are and y-you’re going to stay that way!!” Specter exclaimed.

“You saved me!!!” Cagney exclaimed.

“Yes!! Y-Yes I did, and so did Dr. Kahl!!”

“Thank you!!” Cagney exclaimed.

“Your welcome. Now, why don’t you too explain what happened?” Dr. Kahl asked.

Specter blushed slightly. “W-well, Cagney and I were going out for dinner…”

“Ahh, the follies of love! I remember being in love once, but I digress.” Kahl said.

And so they told their story.

By the time they finished talking, Specter’s face was blushing heavily.

So was Cagney, who was nervously rubbing their petals.

Specter wrung his hands together nervously. “So… yeah. That’s what happened…”

“Alright,” Dr. Kalh said, “Cagney, do you often feel depressive thoughts or thoughts about suicide?”

Cagney shrugged, “I have thoughts about how sad life is sometimes, and usually once every three-ish months I have an emotional break down where I have suicidal thoughts.

Specter floated around next to Cagney, shocked. He had never realized Cagney had those kinds of thoughts.

“Is that not normal?” Cagney asked.

“It’s not uncommon, but it’s not good,” Specter explained.

“Cagney, I think you should go see my brother, Dr. Dahl. He’s a psychiatrist, and I think seeing him will help with those suicidal thoughts.” Dr. Kahl said, giving Cagney a card.

“Okay!” Cagney said grabbing the card.

Specter smiled. “Thank you, doctor!!!”

“Now Cagney, you need rest up here for a couple days.”

“And while you’re here, I’ll take care of your little flowers!!” Specter offered.

“That would be nice. Could you also tell the Root Pack that I’m alive?”

“Okay!”

“Thank you. I love you, Specter.” Cagney smiled.

Specter smiled. “I love you too, Cagney.”

#ghostblossom #blind specter #cagney carnation #cuphead #finalpam8000 #oh god this was amazing to write!!!#suicide tw #suicide mention tw

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lubdubsworld · 7 years ago

Text

Taegi Scarlet string of fate.

Chapter 2

Rated M : Just to be safe

"Would you like to go out for lunch?" Yoongi said hesitantly, watching the way Taehyung lay curled on the couch, legs and knees tucked up underneath his chin as he kept his face buried in the fur coverlet on the back of the sofa. The sofa faced the wide French windows which opened out into the private courtyard. It was raining heavily outside and the fresh scent of wet earth and dripping leaves came drifting into the apartment. It was a little past eleven in the morning but the dark clouds kept the day ark and gloomy, which perfectly complimented the mood in Yoongi's apartment.

Yoongi sighed when Taehyung didn't reply.

"Tae, You need to get up and eat something. You'll only get worse if you stay cooped up." He said worriedly. He still felt horribly guilty about the episode with Soyou. She had been hurt , of course, even so , Yoongi felt she'd been irrationally cruel. They all needed a break, really. He could imagine the kind of stress Soyou must be going through, explaining to her parents that the wedding would have to be put off because her fiance had been bonded to another man. Soyou had always been in a sort of denial about Yoongi's sexuality. He was bisexual and she firmly believed there was no such thing. She was raised by puritan Christians and he didn't really fault her for her beliefs but he supposed it must have been a shock to her.

It's not Soyou that he was really worried about though. It's Taehyung. Taehyung who seemed so lost in his own world that Yoongi was beginning to fear that the boy was actually sinking into some form of depression.

It had been almost a week since their session with the councilor and Yoongi had been very busy afterwards. He'd had thirteen different songs to finish up on and five different contracts to renew. It had been way too hectic a time for him to come home and Taehyung had taken a few weeks off , till the bond settled. Apparently, being forced to stay home didn't agree well with the usually outgoing, vibrant kid . He was miserable, the unhappiness radiating off him in waves and making Yoongi miserable in turn. The bond had completed faded now, although it hadn't settled. Yoongi found that he actually missed the ruby red endormnment on his wrist. He had often stared at it, in the middle of his job and been reminded of Taehyung . But it was a sober reminded that this was temporary. Now that the bond had disappeared, it would only be a matter of time before it settled.

"I'm sorry hyung...I just don't feel hungry..." Taehyung said softly and Yoongi sighed. He was at a complete loss. He didn't know what Taehyung needed to start smiling again. even if he did, he doubted he was in anyway equipped to be the source of such a thing. Yoongi was pragmatic and practical and really Taehyung needed spontaneous surprises to make him smile. So he cleared his throat.

"I need to go back to the studio in a couple of hours. Would you like to come along with me? " He said finally. It took Taehyung a few minutes to answer.

"No hyung. I think I'll sleep for a while." He said softly. Yoongi didn't push it. The bond hadn't settled down and he knew that even the little bit of separation, that came from Yoongi leaving to his studio was draining the younger out. It was obvious from the shadows in his eyes. He wished he could stay back but he wasn't an idol anymore. He was something far more important. He had a responsibility to the young kids waiting for him to be done with their songs and a delay of a few weeks could be fatal to a rising group. He knew how important it was for rookie groups to get their songs on time.

But it didn't make it any easier for him to leave. He was just beginning to put his coat on when the door clicked, announcing Jimin's arrival.

"Hyung...!! Taehyungie!! Where are you guys?? " Jimin's chirpy voice resonated through the apartment an Yoongi sighed in relief. Jimin would know what to do. sunny, happy Jimin with the radiance of a million suns in his smile. Jimin would draw Taehyung out of his shell and make him happy again in a way that Yoongi would likely never manage. He watched Jimin turn the corner, smiling wide and Taehyung sat up straighter, ears perking up curiously and Yoongi smiled at the very child-like display. So much of Tae was struck in his childhood phase, he thought with a bitter little smile. And Yoongi was crap at dealing with children.

"Jiminie..." The familiar name comes sliding off in Tae's deep deep voice and Yoongi stiffened. It's the way he says it that stands out. Hopeful and eager like he was happy, just being able to call out Jimin's name . Tae's never called him like that , he realized with a sudden pang that could be anything. Regret, hurt or surprise. It was anyone's guess really. Yoongi doesn't over-analyse the emotion . He doesn't really feel all that much, these days, simply because he's wary of Taehyung knowing everything.

"TaeTae. " Jimin hugged him tight and Yoongi felt a piercing hit of affection and it's not his to savor, it's Taehyung feeling it for Jimin and he felt like a voyeur , swallowing the discomfort before it materializes because he didn't really want Taehyung to feel that.

"Why don't you guys make yourself at home. I'll try to be home for dinner." Yoongi said softly and Jimin nodded while Taehyung bit his lip.

"Will you?" He said roughly and there's a world of hurt in his tone that made Yoongi feel guilty.

"I'm sorry I haven't been home much, Tae, I'll try.. " He said finally while Jimin looked back and forth between them with great interest. Taehyung turned away without replying and jimin looked like he was fighting a smile.

Yoongi picked up his umbrella and walked out, making a mental note to come home for dinner no matter what happened.

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

"Yoongi hyung doesn't hate you. He just thinks you're... too much maintenance." Jimin said bluntly, while Taehyung arranged the dishes for breakfast on the small table. Taehyung dropped the plate and it cracked into two.

"What does that even mean?" Taehyung muttered, moving to the kitchen to get the dustpan. There are just two pieces of the broken plate and he could just pick those up and go drop them in the trash like a normal person, but he's no longer normal. Hasn't been for days. So he got the dustpan and made a show of sweeping the pristine table and then went back to the kitchen.

Jimin followed his movements carefully, noting detachedly that Taehyung was finding comfort in everyday mundane tasks, the way he used to when they were in the band. It was a way to calm the usually hyper singer. He remembered Yoongi often giving him candy , just to keep him occupied. Jimin smiled because literally Yoongi and Taehyung were two pieces of the same puzzle, wholly dissimilar but designed to slot into each other perfectly.

"It means that he loves you in his own twisted, oblivious way. He probably doesn't realize it himself but he will. Just stick around without pouting too much and he may actually follow through on it."

"Are you telling me , I'm the one somehow ruining my chances with Yoongi.."

"I'm saying Yoongi hyung's brain works differently than yours or mine. He will dump your ass, fully convincing himself that he's doing you a huge favor. That's his type. Don't let him think you're unhappy with him. " Jimin rolled his eyes. He knew Yoongi probably better than the latter knew himself.

"I am not unhappy with him. I just... I hate that he is unhappy with me and there's nothing I can do to change that. I know he loves Soyou. " He said softly.

"You know that Soyou cheated on Yoongi right? A lot of times? He never left her over it. Never even fought about it from what I heard. That isn't love, Taehyung. You can't love a person and let them sleep with someone else without wanting to tear the world apart. Besides, from what I just saw"

Taehyung hesitated because , when Yoongi slept with Soyou it had torn his world apart.

"But still... Yoongi hyung wants to marry her. He told me once the bond settles, he would go back to her. "

"Well, I don't want to force you into any decision Tae Tae. I do think you guys belong together." Jimi said softly and Taehyung softened a bit.

"Thanks for saying that." He smiled at his best friend and Jimin grinned.

"Anyway, what do you want to do today? i thought we could go shopping and then , get some ice cream?!"

Taehyung nodded and smiled but inside he's sinking further into his own pit of misery. Jimin thought Yoongi loved him, probably because of the way Yoongi treated him. but Taehyung knew what drove Yoongi to act the way he did. Guilt. Guilt and misery. Guilt that Taehyung was suffering physically , misery because it was Taehyung he was struck with for life.

Meanwhile, Taehyung is stuck feeling like a thief because he's robbed Yoongi of the chance to build a family with the woman he's loved and that's a different kind of guilt. A soul numbing guilt that leaves him soaking his pillows at night.

But Taehyung knew deep down that it didn't matter anyway. It didn't mater how much he cried because at the end of the day it was his job to smile , laugh, bounce around like an alien and repeat the phrase, " It's okay hyung" a million times to Yoongi, even when it wasn't okay.

Because Taehyung is Taehyung and Yoongi is Yoongi and really, soul bond or not, you can't fit a circular loaf in a square container.

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

"You should bring Tae along, if it's such a hard thing for you two. you know the bond will only settle when you stop aggravating it, right?"

"i hate this." Yoongi said fervently. " i hate this thing and the amount of control it has on my life. i swear to God, i want to take a hacksaw to it!"

"Hyung, I hope you're joking!!" Namjoon looked horrified and Yoongi sighed. He wasn't even sure anymore. Everything in his life was beginning to turn into some sort of a cliched K-drama , complete with jealous girlfriend, forbidden love and tragic lead characters.

"Look both of you need a break. The Halloween party is coming up. Why don't you come and bring Tae along?" Namjoon smiled and Yoongi flinched. The underground club where his old crew gathered wasn't exactly the sort of place someone as beautiful as Kim Taehyung could walk into. Not unless he wanted to get raped and murdered, possibly both.

Namjoon must've caught the look on his face because he made a noise of exasperation.

"Oh, come on hyung!! Don't tell me you don't want him there..."

"it's dangerous and..."

"It's a party, hyung. Not a Rave." Namjoon rolled his eyes.

"Have you seen Taehyung in eyeliner?" Yoongi muttered dryly, " He'll likely cause a small stampede or a riot if he shows up looking like a high end escort." Yoongi grimaced.

Which he would because Taehyung's aesthetic wasn't something that could be turned off at will. He could be dressed in a worn-out grey shirt and threadbare boxers and still look better than Yoongi on his best day. This Yoongi knew from experience.

"Hyung, come on. It's just one day. You know what? i'm texting Hobi hyung and asking him to bring him along. You don't have to have him as your date, if that's what's bothering you." Namjoon said quickly making Yoongi blink in protest. Yoongi hadn't even considered that Taehyung would be there as his date. And even, so he wouldn't mind, per se.

"If something goes wrong, I'll kick your ass." He said casually and Namjoon waved it off.

"Nothing will go wrong. You just need to relax and get a load off your shoulder hyung." Namjoon insisted, before turning sober again." Is Soyou handling it well?"

"As well as any girl would , if her fiancee formed a soul bond with some other person."

"who isn't even the same sex." Namjoon laughed rather ironically.

"What?"

"I mean... if it was some other girl then it's at least a bit understandable. I'd be pretty pissed if my lover's ideal lifemate isn't even the same gender as me."

Yoongi swallowed.

"Are you trying to tell me that I couldn't possible be with Soyou because she's a girl." He growled.

Namjoon shrugged.

"Weboth know you're into guys a little more than you're into girls.."

"Kim Namjoon, i swear to God..."

"And I also know you hardly ever had sex with Soyou."

Ringing silence .

"What the actual fuck-"

"You once bought a pack of condoms that lasted six months. I bet if it was Taehyung you were allowed to bone, that would hardly last you a week." Namjoon grinned.

Yoongi went completely still.

He did not even want to process that particular statement.

"You're disgusting." He said angrily and Namjoon rolled his eyes.

"Denial ain't just a river in Paris, hyung." He said sagely.

Yoongi stared at him for a second and groaned.

"It's Egypt you nutjob. IQ 148 my ass."

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

The place looked exactly like the sort of place Taehyung would love to be in but would be too scared to ever venture into. He stared wide-eyed at the flashing lights, mouth open in unrestrained awe as he blinked wide brown orbs all around him. Yoongi groaned in disbelief. Taehyung looked like every rapist's wet dream. Wide-eyed, innocent and completely pure. Yoongi wanted to kick something. Preferably Namjoon for orchestrating the whole thing.

"Could you look more vulnerable?! Stop being a predator magnet and duck your head, right now!" Yoongi seethed and Taehyung jumped about a foot in the air at the gruffness in his tone.

"Stop yelling at me." He mumbled moodily, some of his joy seeping out of him. Yoongi stared at him for a second and Taehyung felt his throat go dry at how good the older looked in his see-through white t-shirt , skin tight black jeans and eyeliner. But he could feel anxiety creeping up inside him , the feeling foreign. Yoongi was anxious... Worried. Jittery. About what?

"I'm not yelling. I..I'm sorry. Come here." Yoongi held a hand out and Taehyung blinked before hesitantly reaching out a placing his slightly curled fist in Yoongi's hand. Yoongi made a noise of impatience and linked their fingers together. The bond pulsed between them. Yoongi swallowed and Taehyung watched the movement of his throat with a dry mouth, his fingers trembling a bit against Yoongi's. And then without even blinking an eye, Yoongi tugged on his hand, reeling him in so effortlessly that all Taehyung could do was move closer, allowing Yoongi to wrap an arm around his lean waist, till Tae was pressed right up against his side.

"You shouldn't be here..." Tae whispered. " You don't want to be here . i can feel it."

"Is that all you can feel? " Yoongi whispered, an oddly flirtatious tone in his voice and Taehyung promptly froze.

"what?" His voice came out shrill and high pitched.

Yoongi sighed.

"Kim Taehyung...." Yoongi whispered, voice raspy and rough, nose brushing the curve of Taehyung's throat and Tae could feel himself going hard , just from Yoongi's voice and the way it wrapped around Tae's name, choking the syllables in a sultry tone that made his knees go weak.

"Hyung...?" He breathed out.

"You're standing on my foot. Can't you feel that?" Yoongi smirked and Taehyung jumped in surprise, blushing red. Yoongi looked completely entertained by the look on his face. Tehyung felt hurt bubble up inside him, masked by embarrassment .

"I'm going to go find Hobi hyung." He said quickly, making to turn away when Yoongi's hand shot out, grabbing his wrist in a not so gentle grip.

"Taehyung, wait!! What's wrong?" Yoongi said in confusion and Taehyung made a half hearted attempt to pull his hand away.

"Nothing..let me go.." His lower lip was beginning to wobble. Oh, God he was a twenty six year old, grown man for Heaven's sake, he couldn't be crying...!!

"Bullshit! You tell me what's wrong right now...!" Yoongi snapped and Taehyung bit his lips.

"It maybe funny to you. Teasing me. Flirting with me, acting like you like me... But to me it's real, hyung. You always forget that." Taehyung cried out in distress and yoongi recoiled.

"Tae... " He said and his voice dropped a few octaves , became very gently soothing, " I do like you. " He said softly.

Taehyung stared at him, trying to decide what to do with all the conflicting emotions flooding him. He wasn't sure what he was doing anymore. He'd been happy to come tonight, but somehow he just wanted to leave now. Yoongi sensed the look on his face and quickly backtracked.

"Let's not do this now. i really do want you to have fun tonight, Tae. If you want to go be with Hobi, I'll take you. Come on..." Yoongi said holding a hand out and Tae took it reluctantly.

They found Hobi and Jimin drunkenly making out against a corner and both of them stopped short.

"i can't believe those guys are still doing this shit." Yoongi rolled his eyes while Tae grinned.

"Jimin loves Hobi hyung." He said , grinning .

"That's not love. They just recreationally make out with each other when they're too lazy to put effort into picking someone else." Yoongi said with scary accuracy and Taehyung laughed. Yoongi smiled grudgingly as well and some of the tension melted away.

"Let me buy you a drink... Come on." Yoongi smiled.

The bar was empty enough for them to get a seat and the moment their drinks arrived, Yoongi threw his back with practiced ease while Taehyung stared hesitatntly. He was a dismal lightweight.

"Don't drink a lot." Yoongi said sternly when Taehyung tried to take a huge gulp.

"Hey , what's a good-looking guy like you doing--- ." A guy slid into the seat next to Taehyung and Yoongi grinned.

"Don't even think about it Choi. I'd hate to have to kill you so soon after signing a contract." He drawled, hand casually sliding around Taehyung's waist before stroking down to his thigh and gripping him possessively. Taehyung felt his soul leave his body at the touch and the man peered over Taehyung to stare at Yoongi.

"Min fucking Yoongi, of course you'd land the best looking guy in Korea." The guy rolled his eyes .

"Not my fault I'm sexy as fuck. What are you doing here? I thought you were filming that CF in Japan? Oh, by the way... choi, this is my... friend Kim Taehyung. Tae, this is one of my friends from the underground scene. Choi Hyun Sik. "

"Hi." Taehyung said shyly. Hyun Sik looked very handsome in a tall dark , rugged kind of way. He vaguely reminded him of Jung Kook.

"I'm a big fan. You should sign my back." He began unbuttoning his shirt and Taehyung almost stumbled out of the barstool in horror and Yoongi laughed, hands wrapping around him securely.

"Easy..." He drawled huskily and Taehyung wondered if it was possible to have a voice kink...

"Anyway, I was just saying. Mirae and i bonded last week." Hyun Sik said proudly and Yoongi's hand fell away from Taehyung's waist.

"Really?" Yoongi looked stunned.

"Who's Mirae?" Taehyung said curiously.

"My fiancee. We've been dating for a really long time and our soul bond formed last week." Hyun Sik said cheerfully. "She's already picking out the wedding dress in New York and stuff. We'll probably hold the wedding sometime this year. You should be there, Yoongi... Bring your pretty friend along." Hyun Shik grinned.

"Soul bond.. But aren't you guys supposed to be together now? She flew down to New York?" Yoongi said surprised and Hyun Sik shrugged.

"Oh, the bond settled in less than twenty four hours for us. We don't feel all that stuff any more. Thank fuck, I told her i was writing my vows tonight." Hyun Sik groaned.

"It settled so soon? How on earth did that happen?" The impatience in Yoongi's voice was just another reminder that he wanted the whole thing over and done with. Taehyung swallowed dryly.

"Come on Yoongz.., Everyone knows the bond settles once you consummate it." Hyun Sik shrugged.

Yoongi's sharp intake of breath coincided perfectly with the huge gust of air that left Taehyung and it was like the older had robbed it right off his lungs. They both went perfectly still and Hyun Sik looked uncomfortable.

"Sorry, TMI?? Anyways, what's up with you and Soyou? You guys getting any of the symptoms?" Hyun Sik said with a smile.

"uh. No. I guess it will be a while." Yoongi said nervously and it was just another nail in TAehyung's coffin. Yoongi had been waiting to form a soul bond with Soyou. Not just marry her. Somehow that changed things a lot for him. Yoongi hadn't just loved Soyou, he'd wanted to be bound to her heart and soul. Taehyung imagined Yoongi having the kind of connection he had with him now and it left a bitter, painful taste in his mouth. Slowly the ache began deep inside him, pain starting as a needle point in his gut and slowly growing stronger, permeating to the deepest corners of his body. He could feel himself sagging and for a second he blacked out.

Yoongi grabbed him quickly, arms coming around to hold him tight, supporting his weight while Hyun Sik handed him a glass of water.

"You okay, kid?" Hyun Sik said and Taehyung blinked.

"Hyung..i ...i need to go home.." He whispered.

Yoongi swallowed and then quickly nodded.

"okay..I'll drive..."

"NO!!" Taehyung jumped at the vehemence in his own voice.

"Tae..."

"I need to be alone. For a while. Please... just call Hobi hyung.." He said desperately.

In the end Hobi drove him home and even stayed with him for the night. It was nice , to sleep with Hobi again, his calm scent permeating his nostrils and offering him a temporary sense of grounded comfort. Like home. He thought about what had happened and no matter how he tried to make sense of it, there really seemed only one thing to do. He couldn't go the rest of his life collapsing everytime he thought of Yoongi with someone else. He wanted the bond to be broken, once and for all. He wanted it to settle so they could sever it forever.

He swallowed.

Even if it meant having sex with Yoongi and never seeing him again.

#taegi fanfic #vsuga #taehyung #min yoongi #bts fics #otp fic

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boreum-dal · 8 years ago

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soul to keep, ch. 5

summary: marinette dupain-cheng is no stranger to unusual situations. a ghost wandering into her bedroom and pulling her into the mystery of who he was and how he died, however, is a touch out of the ordinary for her–and falling in love with him might just take the cake. ghost!adrien au.

genre: romance with equal parts (hopefully) humor and angst

cross-posted: ao3

previous: i | ii | iii | iv

—

“So,” Marinette said, tapping her pen against her chin as she whirled around in her desk chair. “First, we do some research. Here’s what we know.”

Sunlight filtered through the windows of Marinette’s bedroom. This was the first time that Chat had come to visit her during the daytime. He had done so on Marinette’s request; she felt that they had a lot of work to do in the next couple of weeks if they were going to introduce him to Alya and Nino without looking crazy or terrifying, or both.

“We need to figure out how you work.” Marinette began to jot notes down on her notepad as she thought out loud. “You can walk through things. And appear and disappear. Is that right?”

Chat’s eyes roamed up toward Marinette’s ceiling as he paused to think. “Yes. I can, but if I don’t think about it, I’ll walk smack into a wall just like I would if I were human.”

Marinette looked up at him from her notepad. She paused to study him in this new lighting—as she’d only ever seen him in the dark, or in very dim light, she was shocked at how much more solid he looked in the daylight. Still not human, of course, but the outline of him blurred into the background far less. “So you have to actively try to phase through something if you want to?”

“Yes. I think that’s why, say, I can sit on this,” he said, and the indistinct silhouette of Chat’s right hand gestured toward the chaise on which he sat.

“Interesting,” Marinette murmured, scribbling furiously. “So you can kind of ‘touch’ physical objects, then. But not people.”

“As far as I know, no. I mean, you’ve seen me run right through you.”

“Right,” Marinette said, and then, without any warning, she got up, walked over to the chaise, and picked up a throw blanket. “Okay. Sorry about this in advance.” She threw the blanket over Chat’s form.

“Hey!” Chat protested, arms shooting up to catch the blanket, but it didn’t matter; the blanket went right through him and slid off the edge of the chaise and onto the ground, as if he weren’t there.

“Oh.” He looked down at the blanket. “That’s weird. I thought it’d definitely land on me.”

“Me, too.” Marinette went back to her desk and wrote down some more observations. She giggled. “If it had, then you’d look like an actual ghost.”

“I can’t tell if that was supposed to be an insult.” He leaned down. “But then, see—” and he picked up the blanket off the floor and placed it carefully back on the chaise.

Marinette blinked. “Weird. But why didn’t it land on you?”

“I really had to concentrate on picking it up,” Chat explained. “I think it’s kind of like phasing.”

Marinette furrowed her brow and pursed her lips. “Who made up these dumb rules? They make no sense.” She checked her watch. “Okay, I think we need to call it for this afternoon. I’ve got to meet Alya for a group project meeting.”

Chat tilted his head. “You don’t sound too happy about it. Isn’t Alya your friend?”

Marinette wrinkled her nose. “Chloé is in my group, too.”

“The horrible girl.” Chat said this like a statement and not like a question.

“That’s the one,” Marinette said, and she smiled. “To be fair, I don’t think she’s totally rotten on the inside. She’s just… Mm. The good version of her is just buried very deep down inside of her.”

She met Chat’s eyes, and even surrounded mostly by the apricot-tinted darkness of his silhouette, they looked dubious. She burst into laughter, and he did as well. Marinette watched out of the corner of her eye as Chat doubled over, and again, she felt a pinprick of awe at how human the movement was for a being made mostly of shadow. Perhaps, though, she was more shocked at the rush of fondness she felt for him in that instant, too.

“You don’t sound convincing at all,” Chat said, once he’d recovered.

Marinette shrugged. She moved over to her desk, packing her bag in preparation to leave. “I tried.”

“I could come along and haunt her if you’d like,” Chat offered, amusement tinting his voice still.

Marinette giggled as she tried to jam another textbook into her already stuffed backpack. “Thanks, but knowing Chloé, she’d make a huge scene out of it. Maybe I’ll enlist you one day when she’s really made me mad.”

“Just say the word, and I’m all yours.”

Something about the inexplicable warmth in Chat’s voice made Marinette look up, and for a moment, when she caught his eye, he didn’t look away or speak. She wondered, not for the first time, what kind of boy he’d been when he was alive. She didn’t know how many seconds slipped by before she finally shook her head, and she could have sworn she saw Chat do the same.

“Well, Kitty,” Marinette said, lifting her hand up in a salute. She smiled softly at him. “Till tomorrow night. We’ve got lots of work to do.”

“Looking forward to it,” he said, and Marinette wondered if she was imagining a smile gracing the barely-visible features of his face. He bounded up the steps of her loft, and Marinette saw his eyes turn back to her. “See you, Princess.” He disappeared through the window.

Princess? Marinette felt like she should have been offended at the nickname as she realized exactly how much pink was in her room. But instead, she tucked the sound of his voice saying it—with that tinge of warmth and affection that she’d heard for the first time today—away inside of her, so that she could pull it out and revisit the moment before she went to sleep.

---

“And then, guess what she said next!”

“What?”

“She told Alya that we couldn’t use her camera to record the video part of the project, because she was just an amateur using a cheap child’s toy.”

Chat let out a low whistle. “I’d imagine Alya didn’t take that too well.”

“Of course she didn’t,” Marinette snorted, leaning back against the wall of pillows at the head of her bed and wrapping her arms around her knees. “You’ll see when you first meet her, but Alya is not one to just take an insult sitting down.”

Chat sat facing her, cross-legged at the foot of the bed. Marinette noted with interest that the blanket seemed to crease a little bit underneath where he sat.

“So what happened?” Chat’s eyes were wide, seemingly brighter than usual, as they remained fixed on Marinette.

“Alya told her that unless Chloé herself wanted to pay for a professional, Alya would do the filming on her camera, and that if she didn’t like it, she could go home and cry to her dad for all she cared.” Marinette’s lips broadened into a grin. “And of course, everyone in our group agreed. Alya’s video projects have always been top-notch.”

Chat let out a loud laugh. “What a fearless girl.” He paused. “I hope she likes me,” he added, in a smaller voice.

Marinette clucked her tongue. “How many times do I have to tell you? Of course she will. She’s only a firecracker to the people who deserve it.” She sighed and brushed a piece of lint off of her covers. “I wish I could be more like her. She’s never been afraid to tell people like Chloé off. I just let her walk all over me until I lose it completely and then get in trouble.”

Chat leaned in a little towards Marinette now. In the dim lamplight, she couldn’t really tell what kind of expression he was wearing, but his tone seemed to indicate a frown. “It’s not a bad thing, you know. To be kind and considerate, I mean.”

She shrugged, and her eyes fell to her fingers, which were drawing patterns into the creases of her covers now. “I don't think of it as being kind. I think of it as being a pushover,” she mumbled, and she was surprised at the level of bitterness in her voice.

“Hey,” Chat chided softly. “I like you how you are now.”

It took Marinette a couple of seconds to process the words, and then the mild jolt of shock she felt from them, and she looked up, slightly wide-eyed.

Chat’s own eyes were wide as well now, and his form seemed to waver a bit. “I—I mean—you just—you shouldn’t want to be anyone but yourself!” He said this last part resolutely. “Of course, I’d love to hear one day that you stuck up to Chloé—but more than that, I… Well, if you weren’t as kind as you are, where would I be? I’d be as good as dead.”

Marinette felt a smile tug at her lips. “Well, you technically are—”

“Don’t say it,” Chat groaned, holding up a hand.

They both laughed, and Marinette felt warmth fill the pit of her stomach.

“Thank you, Chat,” she said softly. “That makes me feel much better.”

“Good.”

His eyes were fixed on hers again in that same piercing way they’d been yesterday afternoon, and Marinette found herself looking for an excuse to look away. Her gaze landed on the clock on her wall. “Oh, it’s late!” she exclaimed. “We haven’t even done any brainstorming tonight!”

“That’s okay,” Chat said. “Why don’t you go to sleep? We can always meet up tomorrow after you’re back from school.”

“No, no,” Marinette said, getting up out of bed and scrambling around for her notepad before running back to her bed. “We should just try a little bit. Don’t want to waste the night."

But even with pen and paper in hand, Marinette spent the next hour talking to Chat about things wholly unrelated to revealing him to her friends, learning instead about what memories he’d retrieved so far, what his own theories were as to who he’d been, what happened when ghosts—or Chat, at least—tried to sleep.

“You don’t… You don’t sleep?” Marinette said, alarmed. “Well, I guess I never considered… But what do you do all night?”

“It’s like sleeping, I guess,” Chat said. “But it’s not totally the same. Usually, when the city quiets down, I try to shut off my thoughts. And after some time passes, everything goes blank for a while. And then I come back, eventually. It’s like waking up, but I don’t dream.”

“How long are you… out for?”

“Long enough,” Chat said, shrugging. “Enough to separate night and day.”

“But it takes you a while?”

Chat’s eyes bobbed up and down—a nod.

“It must be lonely.”

“Sometimes,” he responded, voice soft now. “But it helps a lot when I end the night here. Talking to you. It gives me something quiet to think about, if that makes sense.”

Marinette smiled warmly at him. “I’m so happy to hear that.”

Chat leaned back on his hands, and as he shut his eyes, they disappeared into him. “But I think even when I was alive, I had trouble sleeping.”

“Oh? How can you tell?”

Chat’s eyes reappeared, focusing on the ceiling. “Sometimes, I can see the vision of my old room at night, from my bed—but from a lot of different nights, where I was just awake. It’s always the same. Lots of moonlight, the details of my ceiling, me by myself. And I always feel like I was frustrated on those evenings, for being unable to sleep, for thinking whatever I was thinking.”

Marinette was silent for a moment. Of course, Chat was describing the very common phenomenon of tossing and turning restlessly in bed, but it sounded like he'd experienced it more often than not, if it was such a pervasive memory. “What do you think caused your sleeplessness?”

“I don’t know, I feel like I was stressed a lot, or maybe anxious—especially when…” Chat paused, and his eyes narrowed as he thought. “I know I only got that way after something happened, but I can’t remember what.” He let out a frustrated sigh.

Marinette felt it again, then—the nearly tangible sense of aching that emanated from him. She wanted to hug him.

In that moment, he began to ripple and waver, and in the time it took Marinette to blink, she could see, very suddenly, the faint outline of lips and a nose and eyebrows on his face, the hint of a collar at his neck and the shape of shoes at his feet. It was only the slightest change, but he looked remarkably more human like this, she thought.

“Chat,” she whispered.

He took in the tone of her voice and appeared to know immediately what she was trying to say. He looked at her, and then looked down at his hands, which were just a shade more opaque than before. “Doesn’t take a lot, does it?”

Marinette let out a soft breath as she first registered the dazed expression on his face, then realized that she could tell he looked dazed. “I can see your expressions now.”

“Really?” He stared at her for a moment. “You know what this means?” he said, his voice suddenly very serious.

She had no idea. She leaned in, holding her breath. “What?” she whispered.

“You can see me do this,” Chat said, and he waggled his eyebrows at her with a cheeky grin.

Marinette burst into delighted laughter and threw a pillow at him, which flew through him and off the bed.

They continued to talk long into the night, until Marinette began to stifle so many yawns that Chat insisted she go to sleep. Finally, she let her eyes drift closed as the will to stay awake left her.

The following morning, when she awoke, she would vaguely remember just a few things: Chat still being there for a while, at first, and rather than feeling unsafe about it, her wishing in the back of her mind that he’d stay; and then, later, the feeling of her blankets being pulled over her and Chat’s voice, far away and very close at the same time, telling her, “Good night, Princess.”

---

i apologize for the brevity of this chapter! it was originally going to be much longer, but i decided to split it into two. the good news about that is that the next chapter should be coming relatively soon!

i know marinette and chat didn't get very far with the ghost experiments, and that's my fault, ahaha. i really wanted to take this time to let them get to know each other a little bit. they'll make much more progress (experiment-wise and friendship-wise) in the next chapter!

#miraculous ladybug #miraculousdaily #mlfanfic #ml #marichat #adrinette #marinette dupain-cheng #chat noir #adrien agreste #soul to keep #fics

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topfygad · 5 years ago

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15 Unmissable Experiences for your New Zealand Bucket List

The following post was sponsored by WeXchange.

A New Zealand Bucket List

You might have recently noticed a swathe of bucket list posts here on Aussie on the Road.

My China bucket list, South Korea bucket list, and Australia bucket list (in addition to my 1,000 item bucket list) are among the most popular posts on the site and they’re also some of my favourite posts to write.

While I’d love to someday sit down and write an Ultimate New Zealand Bucket List, for now, I thought I’d highlight fifteen amazing experiences in New Zealand that I think should be added to any New Zealand itinerary.

Image courtesy of Christopher Chan.

Hike Franz Josef Glacier

Hands down one of the best experiences I’ve had in all of my travels, standing atop Franz Josef Glacier in 2010 was an utterly surreal experience.

While it is far from the only place on earth where you can hike on these slow-moving mountains of ice, New Zealand’s Franz Josef Glacier has the distinction of being one of only two glaciers on earth where you can experience it in a temperate climate.

The glacier literally comes to a halt a short hike from a steamy section of forest – an unbreaking wave of solid ice that defies expectation.

While it’s no longer to possible to hike up onto the glacier from the ground as I did in 2010, heli-hikes still allow you to experience the thrill of standing atop of a fading force of nature.

Franz Josef village itself is a gorgeous, but remote location. Make sure you bring some cash, as I didn’t spot any ATMs when I was there.

Curious? Read more about my experience climbing Franz Josef Glacier.

Image courtesy of Bernard Spragg.

Cruise on Milford Sound

Sometimes described as the Eighth Wonder of the World (but what isn’t?), Milford Sound is one of the most surreal and beautiful landscapes you’ll ever come across in your travels.

Technically not a sound (it’s a fjord), this portion of the Fjordlands National Park is all deep, dark waters, towering cliffs, and dew-bejeweled plants.

The experience of cruising Milford Sound is one of utter serenity, with playful seals and inquisitive dolphins doing little to detract from the overall air of quiet reverence that blankets the space.

It’s a truly remarkable experience.

Image courtesy of NZ Department of Conservation.

Kayak in Abel Tasman National Park

One that I wasn’t fortunate enough to tackle myself in 2010, kayaking through picturesque Abel Tasman National Park is one experience I am dying to check off my New Zealand bucket list.

Whether it’s a cruisy half-day tour or a multiple day exploration, the experience of taking your time with one of New Zealand’s most beautiful parks is one every traveler should seek out.

For me, the five-day tour sounds like the best way to see it all without feeling rushed. One for my next trip!

Image courtesy of Traveling Otter.

Go bungee jumping or canyon swinging in Queenstown

Beautiful Queenstown won my heart when I visited in 2010, but I wasn’t lucky enough to include any of the extreme sports for which the mountain town is famous.

While bungee jumping is an iconic New Zealand activity, the canyon swing is something more my speed. There’s just something counter-intuitive about going towards the earth head first. Call me crazy.

While bungee jumping and other adrenaline inducing pursuits are available across the world, you’ll find few safer (or more beautiful) spots than New Zealand.

Image courtesy of Bernard Spragg (again!)

Fall in love with Christchurch

It’s hard to put a finger on what it is that makes Christchurch such a beautiful city.

The city’s resilience in the face of multiple disastrous earthquakes is obviously a huge part of its charm, but there’s just an aura about the town that makes it feel immediately like a home away from home.

It’s a green, breezy city with a relaxed vibe that just begs you to put up your feet and relax for a few days. There’s a reason Christchurch is one of my favourite cities.

Image courtesy of Ben.

Witness the Aurora Australis

The Aurora Borealis (Northern Lights) are obviously more famous, but the Southern Lights are no less spectacular.

Visible from both southern Australia and southern New Zealand, there ae a nuber of notable places to view the Southern Lights in New Zealand.

It’s not really something you can plan your trip around, but if you’ve got the time, why not set up camp somewhere in the south and see what you can see?

Image courtesy of Chris Gin.

Eat and cycle the Tasman Great Taste Trail in Nelson

Nelson featured on my 10-day New Zealand itinerary, but it was just a stopover between Franz Josef Glacier and flying to Rotorua the following morning.

Even so, I have fond memories of attending the Nelson Carols by Candlelight and playing Phase 10 into the wee hours with another backpacking couple.

In researching for this post I came across the Great Taste Trail, a delicious (pun intended) combination of cycling, delicious food, breweries, and vineyards.

The 174km loop might seem a bit daunting to some, but I love the idea of getting out and stretching my legs (and my stomach) in such a gorgeous corner of the world.

Image courtesy of Wired for Lego.

Blackwater Rafting at Waitomo

Another highlight of my 2010 trip, seeing Waitomo’s famous glow worms while also enjoying the thrill of some pitch black tubing was a thrill I cherish to this day.

Waitomo is famous for its caves full of glittering glow worms, but blackwater rafting in Waitomo combines the experience with the thrill of navigating pitch black caves and tunnels full of icy water and precarious drops.

It’s a thoroughly exhilarating experience!

Image courtesy of Tom Hall.

Visit Hobbiton

Nerd that I am, I grew up reading JRR Tolkien’s seminal work of fiction.

My teen years and early twenties were spent obsessing over Peter Jackson’s faithful translation of the book to the big screen.

For this reason, paying a visit to quaint Hobbiton on New Zealand’s North Island is something I was gutted to miss out on doing in 2010.

If seeing this tiny corner of The Shire isn’t enough for you, there are entire Lord of the Rings tours that take you to other iconic filming locations such as Weathertop, Edoras, and even Mount Doom.

Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

Attend an All Blacks game

Whether or not you’re a fan of the fifteen a side game is irrelevant – there are few more iconic New Zealand experiences that witnessing the haka before the All Blacks inevitably dismantle whichever unfortunate team has paid them a visit.

Rugby is a religion in New Zealand, and the national team are one of the powerhouses of the sport.

Attending a game, even if you don’t really understand it, is an experience in cultural immersion that I recommend in any country I visit.

Image courtesy of almassengale.

Trek in Fjordlands National Park

The Fjordlands National Park is home to more than ‘just’ the utterly transfixing Milford Sound, with a network of breathtaking hiking trails crisscrossing the entire park.

Whether you opt for a guided tour or you want to tackle the wilderness yourself on a multi-day hike, Fjordlands offers up unbelievable landscapes with a healthy serving of ice cold rain and wind.

It’s definitely not for the faint of heart!

Image courtesy of Anuradha Dissanyake.

Explore Auckland

While not the nation’s capital, Auckland is New Zealand’s largest city and a logical starting and/or finishing point when visiting the Land of the Long White Cloud.

The city itself is home to a number of attractions including the Auckland Museum and the jaw-dropping Sky Tower, but it is as a base from which to explore nearby attractions such as the Bay of Islands, Waitomo (see above), or taking a cruise out on the Tasman Sea.

Image courtesy of Prayitno

Skydive the Bay of Islands

Speaking of the Bay of Islands, it is one of the most sought after skydive destinations in the southern hemisphere.

What better way to take in the spectacular chain of islands than from 16,000 feet?

If throwing yourself out of a plane isn’t your cup of tea, the Bay of Islands is a subtropical slice of paradise perfect for beach escapes, scuba diving, whale-watching, kayaking, camping, and much more.

It’s another one I’m dying to check off my to-do list.

Image courtesy of Sarah Stewart.

Experience a Maori hangi

Maori culture is a fascinating part of New Zealand’s cultural tapestry, and getting a taste of that (pun intended) at a Maori hangi is a fantastic way to sate both your curiousity and your appetite.

A hangi is a traditional BBQ in which heated rocks are buried alongside food in a pit oven. Dishes include chicken, fish, root vegetables, cabbage, and a variety of other flavours.

There are a number of places around New Zealand to attend a hangi or a Maori cultural village, so why not add it to your own bucket list?

Go zorbing in Rotorua

If tumbling down a hill inside a gigantic hamster ball isn’t your idea of a good time, I don’t think I want to know you.

While the instantly recognisable inflatable ball can now be found all over the world, the original Zorb is native to New Zealand and is at its best in Rotorua.

Open year round, Zorbing New Zealand lets visitors experience either a wet or dry Zorb journey, and is a great half day activity in the geothermally active corner of the country.

Traveling to New Zealand

New Zealand is one of the safest and most accessible countries in the world.

It’s a frighteningly easy country to navigate that boasts a little of everything, English is the lingua franca, and it is a developed country in every respect.

With that being said, here are a few handy tips to make sure you’re ready.

Don’t forget to buy NZ dollars ahead of your trip, as you may not have access to credit card or ATM facilities everywhere you go. Rural areas of the country are very much off the beaten track, so it pays to have some cash on hand.

If you’re ticking off any of the above adrenaline fueled activities, there’s always the chance that disaster may strike. Don’t be like me when I broke my arm in Indonesia! Buy travel insurance!

3. Book your accommodation

While you certainly can wing it and just breeze into town without a hostel lined up, it always pays to plan ahead in a tourist haven like New Zealand.

Whether it’s hostels or B&Bs or upscale hotels, my preference is Booking.com due to the free cancellation option. It’s always good to keep things flexible until you’re ready to hit the road, right?

Seriously. They’re manna from heaven.

Just getting started

I’ve barely scratched the surface of what New Zealand has to offer.

While the country might be small, it’s one of the most geographically diverse and fascinating nations I’ve had the pleasure of visiting.

I’ll be compiling a 50 item Ultimate New Zealand bucket list in time, so I’d love your recommendations to help me populate it!

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