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luminartistwriter · 2 months ago

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Lost Creators: Book 1: Ice Core

The continuing sound of thundering echoes shook loose the above rubble down upon the figure’s head. Blocky arm covered in a ragged shirt sleeve twisted and matted with scarlet, the figure held it close to its equally dirty and square chest as it staggered along, trying to keep out of the cave entrance’s sight. Upon arriving at the Sealer, the figure knocked twice and it slowly opened, spewing up more sandy dust from the ceiling.

“Who goes there? Friend or foe?” A gruff voice called out.

“It is friend!” The figure responded.

The light adjusted to both occupant’s eyes enough for their faint forms to be seen within the Sealer’s dark chambers, “The core will be here soon. We just need to keep the zombies and other creeps at bay until then.”

“Ah, that is good. How fairs the surface?”

“Not well I’m afraid. The desert brigade was broken through and mobs were easily able to overtake them. My heart goes to those that bravely stood in their lines.”

The first figure’s grim face deepened, “Mine as well, but we need to keep our heads before we lose them. How soon will the core be here?”

“The scouters reported that the core will be here at around midnight. Mobs are surrounding in quickly so I pray that they’ll be here not a moment too late.”

The above ceiling trembled and shook with the various mobs’ feet clattering and shifting the sandstone blocks. Both figures inside raised their weapons, their shiny material glinting with a dusty sheen as a faint light outside began to flicker.

“It is here.”

Within a few seconds, the blur of motion and time ran fast around any witnesses’ senses as a large group of blocky limbs stormed the Sealer, the faint object’s obscured glow being brightened as the cover was taken off, a chilly wind following suit after the blinding blue light.

“The mobs! They come!”

The groanings and clattering of skeleton bones and zombie voices could be heard from the tunnel entrance, the light from the new moon being clogged with the masses of bodies being forced in through the tiny entrance.

“Ready! Fight! Keep the door closing!” one voice shouted above the commotion.

Various blocky hands were raised up to assist, scratched and twisted blades along with various other household tools, poking and prodding into the eyes of the mobs, occasionally slicing off a rotten limb or two. Others were rallied to lift the heavy object out of its container, strands of light angrily flashing and zapping at its capturers’ until it relented, being suspended in by chains and iron bars.

“Onward to victory! Let the gates close!”

All noise seemed to silence instantly as the rays of the core struck the outside of the door, instantly encasing it in solid ice. The occupants inside, nonetheless terrified, were silently rejoicing in their victory as the core spattered in rage, still attempting to use its energy tendrils to free itself from its cage.

“Now, you will never be able to see the overworld again, core. Mark my words and the rest of those being frozen in with you!” His voice was silenced as the ice covered his face.

Farmer was irritated at being stuck inside of the barrel. Not only that, but what the day’s beginnings already started him into. At breakfast, he found that the family’s donkeys escaped the pen again, terrifying the various venders and having their wild antics ruin his peaceful morning. Having to round them up, Farmer also had a very long scolding from his father about actually closing the fence gate and using a lead on the donkeys so that it won’t happen again.

Farmer feels like that the donkeys are just getting too smart and are natural trouble makers anyways. Now, here he was, stuck in a barrel after leaning in too far and still unable to plant the seeds for the wheat field. Wiggling his leg free from his arm, Farmer was eventually able to get the top off from the barrel and stuck his legs through so he could get upright. Farmer, hearing the mocking noises from the donkeys, approached them, waist above still firmly stuck to the barrel, “Now you idiots! You try being in my position!”

Then that’s when he heard the leads snap. With a few kicks against the fence boards, the donkeys were once again able to escape, taking Farmer with them in a cloud of dust. The rest of the villagers turned their heads to the noise and began running around in fear, creating a big scene for the lookout villager on duty.

“Make it stop!” Farmer pleaded from inside of the barrel.

Hearing a familiar series of footsteps coming out from the library, Farmer was glad to hear a firm voice, “Donkeys! Sit!”

The cloud of dust screeched to a halt and sat down, letting the barrel containing Farmer slide off of their backs and roll to a stop against the library wall. Farmer’s father easily slid his terrified son out of the barrel, allowing for Farmer to be exposed once again to the noonday sun. The blocky sun of light up ahead in the sky reflected graciously off of the rectangle clouds which were few in number, but strewn thin.

Farmer’s vision returned to his father’s grim face, “What are you doing?!”

Farmer stammered for words, “It was the donkeys! I fell in the barrel trying to get the wheat seeds but then they started taunting me and-”

“And that’s why you are creating a big ruckus for yourself?! Because the donkeys were teasing you?! All animals make noises, but these-”

“Are animals that don’t stop annoying me! They keep breaking out of their pen and I have to clean up after their mess!” Farmer persisted but fell silent after his father’s face still remained motionless.

The rest of the villagers turned and walked away from the scene of fighting father and son, going back to their daily tasks. Farmer’s father remained still, but then pulled out two new leads, “Good thing I traded some bread for leads this morning.”

Farmer followed after the shadow of his father, leaving the wreckage of the barrel and remainder of seeds behind. Arriving back at the house and the donkeys led back to their pen, Farmer sat down opposite to his father, nervous.

Farmer’s father seemed to be annoyed, “Farmer, you seem to not being doing so well here. I am thinking of sending you to your grandmother.”

“But why?! Why would I need to leave?” Farmer protested.

“Because, you need to be out of here. Maybe a change of scenery will help you gain a sense of how to be a farmer. You are a farmer, and you need to learn how to be one. Perhaps your grandmother could teach you something that I couldn’t.”

Farmer sighed and looked downcast, “How long will I be gone? A week?”

“However long your grandmother seems fit. And you are going to behave while you are there, right?”

“Yes, papa,” Farmer sighed.

“Now, get packing. You are leaving as soon as you are done.”

Going outside of the village boundaries, Farmer looked around on top of the windswept hill. Down below, the orange rooves of the individual houses looked blended together, like a painting with only orange as its primary color. The roads leading to the village also were obscured by the taller grass, leaving it placid and still, if it weren’t for the villager bodies running around, minding their own daily businesses. The iron golem was also busy clomping around on the nearby hills, pausing to take a backwards glance at Farmer before continuing on its lumbering path.

Farmer felt sick to his stomach, thinking about leaving the village, imagining his father having to deal with the immense chores, that being a farmer gives, by himself. Turning away from the scene, Farmer headed down to the minecart depot; one sole track stretching long out of Farmer’s sight. A minecart mechanism, complete with a hopper arm resting over the track like an archway entrance.

Flipping the sole switch on the mechanism, Farmer was able to conjure a minecart from the hopper, the metallic wheels grinding slightly as it landed with a bang onto the rails. Farmer heaved his satchel over into the minecart and hopped in himself. Instantly the minecart began to roll out, leaving swiftly the station behind.

With the wind blowing strongly in Farmer’s face, Farmer turned his head away for a slight bit of protection, able to get a view of the slowly changing surroundings. No longer in the grassy plain with the orange-wooded acacia trees spreading out their tendril branches like the all-too-familiar cave spiders, a series of flat grassy plains eventually gave way to powdered sand and a dry, arid ambience.

Farmer sneezed slightly as the sand was picked up from the slightly buried railways, rubbing against the wheels; giving an acute grinding sound. The terrain continued to change, rolling hills of sand topped with series of cacti and dead bushes, their duo colors standing out from the rest of the blank beige. The track up ahead revealed a rail depot up ahead, the speck opening and widening up to a similar depot to where Farmer had departed from. The minecart rolled to a stop on the conjoining tracks, settling into its position. Farmer climbed out from the belly of the cart and stared at the sandy exterior of the wind-scraped metal from the minecart mechanism. The scene still looked bleak as Farmer climbed over the small hill of sand ahead of the depot, coming across a colorful spot in the distance. Another village, built out of the coarse materials found in the sand biome lay just up ahead, which Farmer greeted with a glad smile.

Hurriedly coming into the village’s boundaries, Farmer encountered another iron golem similarly behaving like the one that guarded his home village. As it clomped around on its feet appendages, small clouds of dust were unsettled with the immense weight placed on the sand particles. Farmer smiled up at the golem, though it didn’t smile in return. The golem gazed at it momentarily in thought with blazing red eyes before turning back around and continuing on its patrol.

Farmer could see moving shapes like his own up ahead as well, coming into focus as villagers like him. Clothed in sand-colored tunics, the occupant villagers gave Farmer a noticeable series of strange looks as Farmer passed by their stations. Farmer stopped at the village center and retrieved a drink from the well there, the cool water feeling great on his tongue. The plaza was patterned in alternating sandstone and red terracotta, expanding for a few blocks before opening back up to sand again.

Farmer squinted up at the sun, determining that it was a little past noon. looking around again for his grandmother’s familiar roof of terracotta slabs, he located it on the other side of the village. Nervous, he started over, imagining his grandmother’s face; a welcoming sight.

Megaminer20 opened his eyes to darkness. He quickly sat up and looked around, nervous. Holding out both blocky hands in front of him, his eyes eventually adjusted to his dimly-lit surroundings. He appeared to be in a cave, lichen growing in small patches, glowing with a faint light. Stalactites and stalagmites etched out of the ground like sharp teeth, dribbles of water dripping down from the stalactites with a small echoing sound.

Various ore blocks also dotted his vision, a couple of coal blocks along with a few veins of iron. A glinting green signified emerald; gold ore flashing a deep, ruddy yellow. Megaminer20 knew that with a furnace, he would be able to transform these ore chunks into useful ingots.

“It is a little dark here…I think I need coal to make a torch…right?” Megaminer20 mumbled to himself as he walked over to the coal core, readying a punch.

Upon contact with the ore’s surface, Megaminer20 snapped back his fist, massaging it, “Ow…that really hurt..!”

Confused, Megaminer20 thought. Wait. He needed a pickaxe. Looking around in the cave, he also realized that trees don’t grow down here, and he needed wood in order to make sticks to make both the pickaxe and torches, “I guess I need to get out of here first before anything else.”

Turning around to where he had walked from, Megaminer20 spied a mound of dirt blocks. Hesitant to break the dirt, Megaminer20 made sure his punch was slightly less intense and hit the surface. The dirt block popping into his inventory moments later, Megaminer20 continued at his tunneling work, the dirt blocks feeling smooth and grainy against his fingertips. However, upon hearing a low groan, Megaminer20 felt the back of his neck tingle.

Smelling something foul that made him slightly gag, Megaminer20 faced the decomposing head of a green-faced individual. Paralyzed in both surprise and fear, Megaminer20 didn’t at first react to the zombie’s clawed grip on his arm, the air whizzing past his ears as well as he fell flat on his back, sprawling to a stop on the stony ground.

Recovering with a sudden jolt, Megaminer20 shakily stood up, facing the approaching green body with both of his fists raised. Exchanging blows, the revived creature and user waged battle. Megaminer20 found himself able to deliver enough blows to make the zombie stagger away, himself able to regain ground in the slightly brighter in the lichen-given light.

The slimy skin of the zombie reflected almost like an eerily coated sheen as it quickly made its way over to the user, able to give a strong sucker-punch to the user, sending him tumbling head over heels into the opposing wall. Wheezing for breath in between gasps, Megaminer20 stood up again, gripping his slightly injured arm with his other and gave the zombie’s face a sure hit right between the eyes, the zombie letting out a final moan before falling down, dissipating in a cloud of white smoke.

One floating item remained, and with nose pinched, Megaminer20 absorbed into his inventory, “Rotten flesh…Never thought that this would be the item of the day besides dirt…However, I should get out of here before more mobs spawn.”

Megaminer20 continued his mining through the large dirt mound, arriving out into sunlight. Blinking in the sudden-found sunlight, Megaminer20 found his surroundings were to be indeed on a mountain. A taiga forest grew up in abundance at the base of the mountain, from a distance appearing to be a small row of shrubbery packed together tight. The wind whistled past Megaminer20 as he took in the welcoming sight of a new day.

Taking a few steps down the face of the mountain, Megaminer20 found that his steady progression downwards yielded less snow and grey stone to more of a lifelike scene, with grass and pine trees reaching skyward. Feeling the rough skin of the pinewood, Megaminer20 mused, “I guess this wood could work to building a house…”

Punching down a block until it popped into his inventory, Megaminer20 crafted his first wooden item: wooden planks. Megaminer20 repeated the two steps of punching down wooden blocks and crafting planks, left with a stack of pine planks at his disposal, “I will need sheep to craft a bed, though a shelter should be better to do now.”

Placing the planks in his hand, Megaminer20 began to construct a simple wooden frame for a house, finishing up with a flat roof. Pausing to stare up at his work, he heard a few bleats behind him, spotting a sheep a few blocks away. Megaminer20 approached the four legged creature, stick raised. Unexpectedly, the sheep turned its head and walked over, bleating cheerfully as it came closer. Megaminer20 stared into its beady eyes of black and instantly felt the stick fall away from his hands. Bending over and petting its soft white fur, Megaminer20 surrendered any thought to kill it, confessing, “Oh, you sweety! I’ll just have to suffer not having a bed tonight…”

The sheep merely blinked back, but still sweetly bleated, rubbing its soft head against the sleeve of Megaminer20’s arm. Smiling brightly, Megaminer20 began to walk away, the sheep following him all the way back to the house. The night began to grow long, the shadows of the surrounding pine trees growing obscured against the night sky.

Megaminer20 turned to his sole companion, “Guess we should tuck in for the night. I know that we can’t sleep without a bed, but we can hang out here…Gives me time to give you a name.”

The sheep bleated its consent, and Megaminer20 thought, “What about Wooly? That seems like a good name for you!”

Farmer blinked in the doorway to his grandmother’s house. He heard a faint scratching at the door, faint meowing being heard. Farmer knocked on the door. Opening the door, Farmer’s grandmother gave a cheeky smile, “Oh! How much you have grown! Did you find the depot okay?”

Farmer, stuck in the firm embrace replied, “Yeah, I did.”

“Oh, come in! You must be hot.”

Farmer set down his bag in the very small living room, going upstairs to the upper deck to a room with a bed, lime green covers folded neatly around the sides. Studs was lying on the bed, purring with its legs up in the air. Farmer smiled as he pet Studs.

“Farmer? Are you ready for your first lesson?” Farmer’s grandmother called from the downstairs.

Farmer went downstairs, meeting his grandma outside in the plot of farmland next to the house.

“You see this?” Farmer’s Grandmother called out, digging the wooden shovel’s tip into the sandy ground, “This is called dirt.”

“Isn’t it called sand?” Farmer asked, raising his hand, “The yellow stuff?”

Farmer’s grandmother looked down and scowled, “No…It is called dirt! Dirt makes things grow. This is what we farmers use to grow stuff.”

Farmer walked over to where a pile of dirt was set previously, “Then this is sand?”

Farmer’s grandmother nodded then shook her head, “No, that’s dirt!”

“Then what is the yellow stuff?”

“Sand.”

Farmer blinked, confused, “So this pile of brown stuff is dirt. Does this not make plants grow?”

“You know what? Forget what I said. Dirt is brown and makes things grow. Sand is yellow, and doesn’t allow things to grow on it. Try to put seeds on sand and,” Farmer’s grandmother gave a moment’s pause to place seeds on the dirt, the seeds bobbing on the surface of the sand block, “And nothing happens.”

Farmer went over and picked up the seeds and placed them on the dirt instead, the same result happening, “I’m confused. Both dirt and sand don’t like the seeds!”

“Ah, but that’s when the hoe comes in!” The chest nearby giving a loud squeak as Farmer’s grandmother opened it to retrieve a wooden hoe, “You see, ordinary dirt needs to be hoed before use.”

Farmer stepped aside for his grandmother to place down a block of dirt, then used the hoe to scratch in a few lines. Then, his grandmother placed down the seeds, the seeds worming their way up to look like faint, tiny leaves in the soil. However, the soil soon dried up and cracked. The seeds withered away and died, leaving nothing but the cracked soil that they began with.

“Uh, is that it?” Farmer asked.

“No, no! Dear boy, do you think that we can grow anything without the soil breaking up and the seeds dying? We need water!” Farmer’s grandmother protested, her form retreating back to the same sand-covered chest as before, retrieving an iron bucket.

Farmer followed his grandmother to a spot of land where the sand was dug away and cracked soil was placed down in the stead of sand. Letting the contents of the bucket roam free in the tunnel space between the blocks of dirt, she then grabbed the hoe and scratched a few lines into the dirt. Watching in a sort of awe, Farmer noticed that when his grandmother placed a new batch of seeds into the ground, the ground didn’t crumble to pieces again. The ground remained firm and wet, the seeds’ leaves growing up slightly taller than last time.

“Cool!” Farmer exclaimed.

“Now, since I’ve shown you how to plant, I expect this whole lot to be done before noon,” Farmer’s grandmother gestured to a fenced-in plot of land a bit further away from the village house.

Farmer sighed as his grandmother gave him the hoe, shovel, and bucket. Looking down at the plot of land again and then the dirt blocks, Farmer placed down a dirt block, then paused momentarily to dig at a sand block with the shovel. The shovel passed through the block, but instead of reaching the sandstone bottom of the plot of land, Farmer found a small, black hole instead. The rest of the sand fell away to reveal a large tunnel mouth, the entrance’s faint light yielding a set of worn-down stairs.

Farmer looked down the deep tunnel, swallowing hard. Shaking, he grabbed the torch decoration that was on the sandstone fence and used it to light up the interior. Seeing a minecart track with a chest nearby, Farmer carefully lowered himself over the edge of the fallen sand blocks and opened the chest. Finding a cart item inside, he placed it on the tracks.

Getting inside the cart, Farmer instantly felt the cart begin to move going down a very steep incline, swiftly dissolving him into darkness. The minecart’s speed began to pick up, twisting and turning sharply around the various pillars of sandstone until the cart dumped Farmer out onto the floor.

Getting back up, Farmer looked around him, shivering in the slight chill he felt. Glancing around, he found the floor and walls about him covered in a thick layer of ice. The ice jutted out in various shards, reflecting semi-hidden objects. Brushing aside some of the frost coating the ice crystals, Farmer shouted in horror as a clear head of a zombie was visible. Both cold, black eyes seemed to stare back at Farmer with a blank gaze.

“No, no, no!” Farmer shouted as he looked around for a recall switch. Finding it located on a bench, he flipped it, jumping into the cart as it zoomed back towards the light.

Running back towards the house, Farmer noticed the daylight outside beginning to fade. Jumping onto the front porch and slamming the door behind him, Farmer ran upstairs and hid himself underneath the woolen covers on his bed.

Eventually, Farmer forgot about his chilling encounter with the zombie head, excelling in his grandmother’s slightly confusing lessons and successfully crafting his first loaf of bread.

“Excellent, Farmer! I can’t wait to see what else you could learn to plant. Take the rest of the day off; you deserve a rest!

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batmanrogues-scenarios · 2 years ago

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ok lol so my asks are always crazily specific but i always get the ideas when i’m at work

🤷🏼‍♀️ so i was gonna ask for riddler, scarecrow, joker, and two face when their s/o gets revealed to have been sent as a spy for batman or whatever to figure out their whereabouts, etc. like how they react, since their s/o started as kind of a henchperson of theirs, and “organically” got in a relationship with them, how they would find out, react, etc. thanks!! 🫶🏻

This is going to be angsty.

Riddler

They honesty seemed more knowledgeable when it came to Bat so he thought they were useful, letting them tag along

Soon he realized he can hold conversation with them, which became longer and longer

Just kinda fell over time, couldn't believe his luck; but it wasn't only because he thought it was too true

Theu acted strange when he showed affection or talked about, he thought it was because they weren't used to it

He wished he was right but no

One day while fighting Bat they jumped in front of him to protect him

Batman asked why they were doing it, they were supposed to get information from him, what did he done to them

And just like that his heart shattered

He activated trap getting S/O and Batman in it, gave them one last glance before running away

He was so angry, the most intelligent man in Gotham didn't saw it coming; he calls himself moron for the first time in a long time

Just let's himself cry to sleep

And he is still angry but wants S/O back to hug him, to tell him it will be alright

When S/O comes to talk he threatens them with traps while hoping they won't give up

If they don't he would slowly open up but they need to back it up with actions

Scarecrow

He didn't really paid attention to them, just another henchperson

But they seemed to be fascinated by fear toxin, like really interested

So he gives them mission to see how far they'll go

Decides to share of the information about toxin since they succeeded, really tries to ignore how their amazed stare makes him feel

Becomes his right hand person and soon S/O

He loves rambling to them about his research

It feels nice, too nice

S/O took cops somewhere else while he was finishing toxin and after he was done he went to them to help

But he heard them talking to cops like they knew each other

"Y/N stop it."

"Stop what?"

"We all know he didn't give you wrong information. You're covering for him."

"Ha! Don't ridiculous. "

"I don't know what he had showed you but it's nothing good. I gave you this job because I thought you could keep up with Scarecrow, not for you to be fascinated with fear."

He just walks out behind a wall in complete silence

They raise their guns but S/O in between "Jon..."

Just grabs his fear toxin and throws it

He gets out of there as fast as he can, trying to ignore the urge to take S/O and calm their screams

Lays in his house looking at the ceiling, without energy to do anything

Refuses to meet ex-S/O, even other Rogue's feel like he is too quiet

His trust issues might be too strong

Joker

When they showed up he was like "Aight, you can do"

The way that they wanted to spend time with him reminded him of Harley, which was annoying but he needed someone to do his work

Slowly however Y/N gets fun out of it and becomes more cheerful which is more for Joker liking

Decided to show them real fun and soon there's 2 maniacs running around

When cops stop them he separates them and says to S/O

"I knew we shouldn't have send you. There was something wrong with you from the start."

Joker just goes "OOHH! That's explains why you always asked me questions. "

Just zaps cops and takes S/O away,when they ask if he's going to kill them he goes

"Nah, you're fun to have around. "

He honesty doesn't really care about being spy, just don't do that again

Two Face

When they wanted the job he flipped his coin and they got lucky

Harv wasn't in mood for talking and told them to piss off

However they were persistent and make good job so he gave them few words of approval

What got him interested so when they rescued him

They started talking more and he felt warm again

That was until he heard them talking on the phone about how they won't be spying anymore

He felt betrayed and took out his gun

"You either get out or I blow your head off." Harv warned.

Harvey took his other hand on weapon and put it down saying they should go

So they did

Harvey and Harv kept fighting with each other what to do, whether they should allow them to be together

Harvey is just tired and wants someone to love him while Harv is angry

It's all will come to the coin, as always

#lobotomy lover #riddler x reader #scarecrow x reader #joker x reader #two face x reader

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slumbergoblin · 3 years ago

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Would it be okay if I asked about the Dragoon Berry scenario? I'm curious if Igneous does have to get involved or not. Or if Betrayus is able to quell the rage on his own.

(Sorry for asking so many questions 😅)

Totally! I don't mind answering questions!

(If there are things that like, don't make sense/seem like they're happening too fast then I apologize because my thoughts are everywhere, and some details are being left out because I'm trying to just explain gist of it;;) So basically I am going off of what I remember because I *rarely* write stuff down:

This whole.... 'episode' I guess is what I'm going to call it for now I think is a very interesting idea, for both setting up the concept of "Power Berries??? In my Netherrealm?" AND being able to set up a way to learn more about Betrayus and his years in the Netherrealm before he was given the title of 'leader' or 'lord' of the fire-portion in the Netherrealm. However, that second bit with Betrayus comes at another time.

Going into somewhat vague-but-also-not detail about the little synopsis that I made here for the initial Dragoon Berry post: I like the idea of an episode where Pac, Cyli, and Spiral are doing their usual 'we need to go down into the Netherrealm because Dr. B is doing something nefarious' and Pac stumbles upon these strange bushes with fruit on them. Maybe he senses some sort of energy or power from them, I don't know yet, but he decides to take one with him. The only one who knows that Pac is in possession of this fruit is Betrayus. Kid gang™ return to school, continuing their day like normal, lunch rolls around and BAM ghosts are back doing their thing and causing a ruckus in Pacopolis! Pac is getting ready to power up and realizes, oh no! He doesn't have his uh, pellet-carrier-thingy because he left it either in his dorm room or in a locker at school- HOWEVER! He does have that fruit from the Netherrealm! So he bites the fruit, can't because ow it's kinda spikey, figures out how to open it, and hey! A berry! That's the power he was sensing from earlier! Pac pops that sucker in his mouth and wow everything goes downhill so fast. Pac embodies the look, might, and fury of a dragon, but quickly loses all control, he not only goes after ghosts but starts going after citizens as well. Betrayus sees this going down with a slug-cam and quickly appears on the TV in the roundhouse so he can demand that Stratos lets him out of the Netherrealm. Stratos, who was watching Pac go NUTS, is caught off guard and immediately questions what his brother had done, but Betrayus explains that he can help. Stratos is obviously hesitant, but he trusts him (after Betrayus elaborates of course). Betrayus shows up in Stratos's office shortly after Cyli, Spiral, and Sir C., obviously Cyli and Spiral are like 'this HAS to be your doing' and Betrayus explains to them the situation and tells them his plan. Betrayus needs to be able to get close enough to Pac to restrain him while Spiral and Cyli uh, 'neutralize him', yeah I don't know how else to word it- But you get what I mean! So Betrayus distracts Pac from going after people by having Pac only go after him, while also deflecting and dodging whatever Pac throws at him. Betrayus is also trying his best not to harm Pac, or let his anger consume him. Betrayus eventually gets a hold of him by uh.. stretching his arms long enough to wrap around Pac like a rope... which sounds strange- but bear with me. Betrayus, and to an extent some other ghosts, can stretch his arms! Think Spinel from Steven Universe. I feel like it's a weird idea- but I'm keeping it! Anyways, Betrayus and Pac both get like, zapped by a new upgraded version of the PSCs (or whatever the acronym was), and both of them like, I don't want to say collapse because that makes it sound more violent than how it should look- but they both just slowly fall onto the ground. Betrayus and Pac are knocked out, and Spiral, Cyli, and Sir C. all rush over to them. Pac is taken back to wherever, I don't know yet, and Betrayus is taken back to the Netherrealm And that's where (for now) it would end, right? Well actually, the entire situation with Pac going out of control was being broadcasted live on TV because of that one news reporter. A lot of people witnessed Betrayus out there to help stop Pac. A lot of people... including Betrayus's wife Mei. THAT'S the end of the 'episode'. As for Igneous, he is nowhere to be found! So Igneous, shortly before Betrayus was given lordship, disappeared! Nobody knows where he went or why he left! 'Tis but a mystery... (and Igneous disappearing was like, 13-14 years ago) (Writing this right after posting- I’M SO SORRY THIS IS LIKE 8 PARAGRAPHS LONG)

#pmatga #I also still think that I'm not good at writing so I apologize if it's bad 😭#if there are things I need to fix then I can do it later because ive been working on this for HOURS and I'm so easily distracted #which im not complaining because I like figuring these things out!#DUDE THANK YOU FOR DRAWING IGNEOUS BECAUSE THAT MADE ME REALIZE I CAN GIVE THE GHOST RULERS THE TITLES OF LORD/LADY #pmatga rewrite #long post

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kikis-writing-world · 4 years ago

Text

Think Happy Thoughts

Summary: Poe is resisting the interrogation techniques of The First Order after Kylo Ren captures him on Jakku. The main way he’s keepng sane: thinking of you.

Pairing: Poe Dameron x F! Organa/Solo Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Rating/Warnings: Vague descriptions of torture, blood and pain. It’s set in the interrogation scene of TFA from Poe’s POV so... SMUT there is like, 1.5 sentences of Smut, but it’s there! lol No beta/editing as usual.

A/N: So this isn’t as lighthearted as that post, but I once posted a joke about Poe sleeping with Kylo Ren’s sibling and he finds out when he’s probing Poe’s memories for the map. I like how this turned out though and I have an idea for a follow up with Poe and F! Organa/Solo Reader.

Poe wasn’t sure if there was any part of his body that didn’t ache. They’d sent in trooper after trooper, droids, officers - it felt like the whole First Order had come through the room, all looking to get information from him. He gave none. When they slapped, punched, zapped, threatened- he didn’t give in. Every new form of interrogation or torture they rolled out, he grit his teeth through the pain and hit them with some smart-ass quip. He wished his voice held more bite and less pain, but he wasn’t going to let up.

He was scared but he wasn’t going to show these sons of banthas that. He didn’t like his odds of making it home this time. Shackled to the interrogation table he couldn’t talk, shoot or fly his way out of this one. All he could do is try to protect the information he had and hope they grew tired of him being uncooperative sooner rather than later. He wasn’t worried about himself, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t worried about others.

BB-8, wandering around Jakku. His Dad, who already lost his wife to the war. Leia, who had lost so many people over her lifetime. You…

God, he hated that he would be leaving you behind. You both knew the risks of this damned war, both understood the likelihood of the two of you living happily ever after grew slimmer with each mission. You two never promised to make it back to the other, knowing one day it was likely going to become a promise you couldn’t keep. Despite every logical part of your minds knowing this was a possibility, he knew that you would be heartbroken.

He shook away the thought, trying not to dwell on the image of you collapsing into Leia’s arms as you sobbed. As you grieved him. Instead he tried to focus on the time he had been lucky enough to spend with you. Glances shared in the dining hall. Quiet moments snuck out of base, exploring the surrounding terrain. Moments holding each other when one of you returned back to base after a dangerous mission.

The relationship had been secret at first. It had made sense at the time, neither of you wanting to flaunt your found happiness when the galaxy was feeling the pressures of the war. Both of you had seen how the war affected the relationships of your parents and the friends around you. He was more scared to tell Leia than you were.

“Of course she’ll be fine with this, she loves you!” You would laugh, trying to assuage his worries.

“That’s what makes it worse. I’ve got nowhere to go but down.”

You had been right, of course. When the two of you finally broke the news to her, she just smiled that knowing smile of hers. Of course she already knew. There wasn’t much on this base she didn’t know about, let alone her daughter and her best pilot falling in love. She warned you both, telling you it wasn’t easy to love during a war, but supported the happiness you had found in each other nonetheless-

“I had no idea we had the best pilot in the Resistance on board.”

Poe lifted his head from the table as his thoughts were interrupted, not needing his eyes to adjust to recognize the inky black mask of Kylo Ren. It took a moment to see only one of him, instead of three.

“Comfortable?”

Despite his fatigue, the ache that radiated down to his bones, the sinking of his stomach at the sight of the man, he knew he had to keep strong. Even if it was just on the outside. “Not really.”

Unbothered, Ren continued. “I'm impressed. No one has been able to get out of you what you did with the map.” The expressionless helmet stared down at Poe, trying to intimidate him.

Poe almost wanted to laugh, but he couldn’t quite get the air into his lungs. “Might wanna rethink your technique.” He challenged.

There was a beat of silence. Poe forced himself to keep staring at the blank mask. It was unnerving, but he would never back down to this coward who wouldn’t even show his face.

Ren moved his hand slowly, raising it in front of Poe. He shifted in his restraints, preparing for the torture to continue. Ren never touched him, but he felt something regardless.

He grunted, trying to shake off the feeling. A buzzing in his ears, a pressure in his skull. He fought against it and it only got worse. The pressure changed to a near stabbing feeling. Millions of pinpricks in his brain. His ears filled with sounds, his mind’s eye seeing images- Ren was in his head. Digging through his memories, searching for the information he was keeping from them.

Poe forced himself to think elsewhere, just like he had for the other torture he’d gone through. It was always easier to ignore the pain when he thought of you. Thought of protecting you.

His head crashed back into the headrest, but he wasn’t sure if he had done that or Ren had. He whimpered at the growing pressure. Everytime his memories focused on you, it felt like someone flipped a switch for a different memory. Always back to the village on Jakku.

Your smaller hand in his as you walked through the hanger together- Lor San Tekka’s hut- Your smiling face, lit by the tiny candles he’d smuggled into the dorms as he tried to treat you to a candlelit dinner- The kindly older man handing him the leather satchell-

“Where is it?” Ren demanded, trying to follow the memory. Trying to make Poe follow the memory of that leather sack.

You, in his lap in the cockpit of his X-Wing, squealing and holding onto him as you begged him to go faster- his X-Wing, still on Jakku- Trying to tell the man to hide before The First Order arrived- Your lips on his, your soft cheek under his palm as your fingers tangle in his curls, you taste like caf and candy-

“The Resistance,” Poe grunted, breathing heavily as he tried to keep control of his own thoughts. He swore, he could taste caf and candy over the coppery taste of his own blood. “Will not be intimidated by you.”

The pressure increased, making him squirm.

Running through the desert, the satchel heavy in his hand. He can feel the wind in his hair- not the wind, your hands running through his hair as he kisses down your neck- it tastes like the desert, of the sand that catches the breeze. He runs to the X-Wing, sweating in the desert heat even at night- sweat drips down his neck as he thrusts into you. You’re under him, gripping his arms as you whine his name up at him. Your own skin shines with sweat in the dimly lit room, warm skin flush against him. He moans your name back to you-

He can’t explain it, but he feels the energy change. The pressure in his head goes from a pulling to a pushing. Instead of pulling the memories of Jakku forward, he’s pushing the memories of you away. The feeling of you being pushed away sits heavy in his gut.

“Where... is it?” Ren demands once more.

You’re laughing at his joke- you’re shot on the training course- you’re putting up your hair- you’re bleeding from a cut on your hand- the X-wing’s engines sputter- you’re crying- you’re laughing- you’re screaming while warning alarms go off- BB beeps-

He can’t keep up with the images swirling in his mind. Happy memories of you. Upsetting memories of you. Jakku. BB-8. The Map. Poe Screams as he fights it.

“You take this. It's safer with you than it is with me.”

It doesn’t stop. The memory doesn’t switch. It plays like a holovid in his head and he has no control over it.

“You get as far away from here as you can. Do you hear me? I'll come back for you! It will be alright.”

All at once it’s gone. The memories, the pressure, the pain. He can barely breath, he feels dizzy. Black spots creep into his vision - is what he’s seeing real, or is it another memory? He’s not sure.

“The best pilot in the Resistance will be the reason they fall,” Ren mocked. Poe could barely hear him over the rushing of blood in his own ear. “Did you get that title through skill, or did it come with fucking the Princess of the Resistance?”

Poe sputtered, feeling like he was going to be sick. He wanted to talk back, to say something to defend himself, to defend you. He physically couldn’t.

“Don’t worry,” Ren chuckled darkly as Poe’s consciousness started to fade. “I’ll make sure my darling sister knows you thought of her right up until you gave away the information that kills them all.”

Sister?

Poe collapsed against the interrogation table, unconscious.

Tagging: @wickedfrsgrl @din-damn-djarin @dinthisisthe-wayson @vonschweetz

#Poe Dameron x Reader #Poe Dameron x F!Reader #Poe Dameron x Organa/Solo Reader #Poe Dameron imagine #Poe Dameron fanfic #Poe Dameron drabble #WookieTales #Poe Dameron #Lemony Fresh

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xbunnybunz · 4 years ago

Text

always maybe never [wolf keum x reader]

Summary: A story in which you love Wolf Keum, and maybe he likes you back.

Genre: Romance, Angst, One-sided romance

Date: December 27, 2020

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“They took my glasses,” He said.

He looked pissed.

You watched him blankly, taking in his bruises, the scrapes and the blood.

“Did you lose?” It slips out of your mouth before you can stop it, and boy does that get him worked up.

“No.” He snaps, louder than before. Maybe be regrets it, maybe he’s tired, but he lowers his volume immediately after. “No. I fucking didn’t.”

Silence falls over the both of you. Over you, drenched, standing over him in a moldy, stinking alley. Over him, shielded from the rain with your umbrella, lip busted and knuckles bruised.

The red and blue lights of a police car soaring through the night carry into the alley. It throws hues of neon colors upon Wolf’s face, he’s so belligerent even like this, you think you might just leave him here.

“If you’re done asking me questions, you can fuck right off now.”

He’s a nasty little thing, but the way his eyes glint like diamonds in the sliver of yellowed streetlights intrigue you.

“How long were you planning to stay here then?”

He doesn’t respond. Shifts half an inch away from you, like he kinda wants you to leave and also not really.

“It’s real cold out tonight.” You say. And he looks seriously hurt, but you don’t say this aloud. You wonder what the fight was about, if it was worth ending up next to a dumpster for.

You move closer, kneel so you’re eye-level with him despite his adamancy to not even glance in your direction. The moon bounces light off his damp hair, first silver, then purple. The city lights tend to play tricks on your eyes.

“Let’s get somewhere warm, alright?”

You present a palm to him, face up and already starting to pool with rainwater.

It hangs in the air for a long moment, long enough for you to begin to retract it. But then he reaches out and grabs it, a large, calloused hand wrapping over your own. Even in the chill of twilight, a warmth blossoms there.

“You’re fucking annoying.” Is all he says.

You roll your eyes and hoist him up to the best of your ability, which included almost dislocating your elbow as he slowly picked himself up. It’s only when the top of his head hits your umbrella do you realize how much bigger he is than you.

“Here, you should take this.” You hold out the umbrella to him. He takes it wordlessly, placing it right between the both of you. He’s shivering, despite his best efforts to hide it, you can feel the tremor of his body when it brushes against yours for that golden split second.

You look up at him, eyeballing the furrow of his brows, the slight twitch of his lip, eyes cast somewhere far into a long distance. Just what was he looking away from?

You make it to a nearby hole-in-the-wall eatery without serious injury. He flops down onto the seat like a wet fish and grills the patrons who look at him funny.

“Play nice.” You hum, moving beside him and drying him out as best you could with takeout napkins.

He grunts and exhales deep and heavy from his nostrils, hair matted to his forehead and neck. You dab at it, wondering if the purple color would bleed like cheap tye-dye. Of course, it doesn’t.

“You have such an interesting taste.” You coo. Fingers find strands of hair and pinch, rolling.

He turns his head slightly to meet your gaze, eyes cold yet burning. Like this hasn’t happened before, like he hasn’t absolutely taken you apart and pieced you back together before.

“I know.”

Just those two words are enough to send electricity down your spine. You pull away before you’re zapped by this high voltage man.

You take a seat but never break eye contact with him.

The low buzz of the yellowed restaurant lights above you hum life into your fingertips, into your ears, into your heart. It’s nauseating to see the dark red and purple bruising on his cheek and browbone.

“You should find some hobbies,” You offer, voice quieter now. “Like knitting, or something.”

Your lips begin to quirk up, but his straight face drains you of that energy.

“Maybe later.” He says, and you remind yourself to start keeping a tally of each time he says that.

“Right.” You look down at your lap and laugh, but it sounds dry. “Let’s eat, and then I’ll bring you home.”

He doesn’t argue.

The next time you see him, he’s got his glasses again. He’s still scuffed from the last fight but at least he can walk straight now.

“Are you alone?” You ask, bumping hips with him behind the slushie machine.

He takes one crinkling bag of chips off the shelf, cellophane crackling under his fingers. There’s a black motorcycle helmet wedged under his arm and he’s got his riding sneakers on.

“Yeah.”

You peek at the door and true to his word, you only spot his motorbike and pedestrians cursing how it was parked.

“That’s rare,” You tease. You’re standing close to him, so you dare to brush your pinky against his. Nearly have a heart attack when he hooks his with yours.

You look up at him but he’s not looking at you. To anyone who wasn’t watching for a sign, he’d just be pondering the selection. But you were watching, always watching for anything. A glance, a flutter, a chance that he was really there with you.

Today, he’s generous. Staring straight ahead, he graces you with a slight upward curve of his lips. Just a bit, just enough to dimple his cheek, just enough for you.

Play it coy. You pull away from him and tiptoe between the fridges with a sway in your step. You pray and pray he’s following you. When you catch sight of his figure in the reflection of a coffee pot, you feel like a million bucks.

“Ah, I wonder what I should get for tonight.”

You don’t mind that you’re in the unthawed hams section because you know he’s not paying attention anyways. He’s just relying on muscle memory while you agonize over all your movements, you’ve both been through this a hundred times.

Right on beat, he asks the question you’ve been praying for.

“Do you need a ride home?”

His shoulders look broader when he rolls them, the red school blazer stretching and falling back into place. He has no idea how mad he drives you.

“Oh, I guess that’d be nice.”

He smirks, a wicked smile.

Or maybe he does.

You love riding on his motorcycle because everything smells like him, but you guess that’s easy when your face is buried in his hair and the crook of his neck.

Every time you wrap your arms around his waist, you hold onto him like you’ll lose him. One of these days, you swear you will. Sometimes you catch him throwing a glance over his shoulder, and sometimes you wonder if today’s the day he’ll finally tell you to let go. But it never is.

The wind whips about the both of you and blisters your cheeks with the cold. He’s slowed down, and you love it because you know he rides like a demon without you.

The city lights zip by you like fireflies in the distance, the glow of commercial buildings dwindling to zero as you enter the residential area. The scrape of rubber tires on concrete pavement makes people peep out their windows, tongue in cheek, before closing the blinds.

“How are you back there?” He asks at a red light, voice muffled from under his helmet.

“Warm.” You lie. Kind of.

His chest moves in rippling motion that might’ve been a chuckle, might’ve been a cough. And he’s off again. Your eyes close and you hold him closer to you, feel his body and heartbeat against yours, breathe in the smell of his cologne, his bodywash. For the few minutes you’re on the back of his bike, there is only you and him in the universe.

It always ends a second sooner than you remember it should, and it makes you wonder if he’s riding faster or if you’re too eager. He shakes out his helmet hair and helps you off the bike like a proper gentleman, rare for someone as unruly as Wolf Keum.

“Thanks.” You say, and peer at him through your lashes, batting them slowly. You’re feeling cold and emboldened tonight, so you’re hoping he’ll take the bait.

He reaches out, long fingers brushing aside your windswept hair. He traces your jaw and it feels like home, like victory, like you’ve almost got him where you want him.

The warm lights of your house illuminate his face softly and silhouettes his more angular, predatory features. It brings out the Wolf Keum you know and you yearn to keep him like this forever, away from the bloody knuckles and broken bones that make him so sharp to hold.

“Do you want to come in?”

His eyes are calm, barely a trace of emotion save for keen interest. You pray to all the gods that he’ll come in just this once, after so many nights of being left empty handed. For a second, you think the heavens have heard you when he misses his cue to shake his head like every other time. His hesitation is dizzying, and the adrenaline that pumps through you overpowers even the motorbike ride.

He ponders for just a second too long, and his phone rings.

It snaps both of you out of the reverie. From where you stand, you can see the caller ID. Donald Na.

Wolf turns away and takes a step towards his bike to pick up the call. You can’t help the hand that goes out after him. When he looks back to you, he gestures to his phone.

“Maybe later.” He mouths.

And you smile and nod, because that’s what you always do. You watch as he pulls on his helmet and gets on the bike, idle chatter falling from his lips and into the receiver. When he drives away, the exhaust from his bike billows behind him and clouds your vision with smoke. You return home without knowing if he’d waved goodbye.

It’s a temperate day when you speak to him next.

You’re sitting in the park waiting for Wolf, shaded by trees and warmed by the sun. You’ve left the remainders of your croissant on the floor and it’s become a meal for a flurry of pigeons, cooing and flocking by our feet. An ant crawls up to your sneaker, confused with the obstruction. You’re entertained by it’s strange dancing for a few moments before a shadow crosses your vision.

“Hey.” He says.

You smile. “Hey yourself.”

He exhales through his nose in a manner that you assume is amusement.

You pat the seat next to you and he eases himself onto it, stretching out his legs and sending some pigeons head-bobbing awkwardly away from him.

Mindlessly, you note that he’s abandoned his blazer today, opting to tie it around his waist instead.

Birds chirp overhead and the grass tickles your ankles. There’s the sound of children laughing and the rushing of a fountain a ways from you.

He’s relaxed. You can tell from the way he’s kicking his feet.

You peek at where his hands are and notice that they’re close enough to feel his warmth, but don’t miss the bandages on his knuckles and forearms.

“You’ve been busy?” You ask. You pretend it’s a joke but it’s not actually.

He raises his arm and regards it as if it doesn’t break your heart to see him like this. “This? It’s nothing. Some shithead thought using a pocket-knife would hold us off.”

Something in your chest twists.

“That’s funny.”

He hums in agreement and you want to choke him for it.

You let the sounds of the park ease your mind and his. Wonder silently if there’s even a point to all of this heartache, this outlandish game of who-gives-less-fucks anymore.

Beside you, Wolf leans back and lets the sunlight wash over his face, his neck, his chest.

His eyes are closed, but you can see his eyelids fluttering slightly, like he wants to look into the sun but the brightness scares him. His messy lavender hair sweeps over his forehead and spills over his ears, just brushing the nape of his neck with soft curls. It’s nearly concealed, but you can see a faint line of a scar peeking out at you. Just past his adams apple, trailing upwards to his jaw. When he first got it, he refused to say where or how it had happened, but you’d be a fool to not know only metal and gems cut so deep.

This isn’t the only scar he adorns. You’ve memorized the marks he has lining his body like constellations; switchblade starry sky and cigarette burn borealis. In the sun, you can see the endless expanse of marks on his skin like a splatter of cursed stars. There’s far too many for you to count, so you turn away and rest your eyes.

It remains like this for a moment longer, but then he says something that surprises you.

“I’ve been thinking about it.”

Your head snaps towards him, blink and situate yourself further in your seat, wondering if you had somehow fallen asleep and wandered into a dream.

Wolf nods once and the action is slow, like he’s still churning the words in his head.

“Yeah,” he says, voice low. “Everything about this situation is... Strange.”

He picks up a hand and gazes at it, brows furrowed. He clenches a fist and unclenches it, turning it this way and that in the light of the sun.

“But say I do leave, right? Then what will I have left to do? My school life is shot, and no one dares to approach me.”

He drops his hand and looks at the clouds rolling lazily over the blue sky.

“If I leave, what will I have left?”

You almost want to laugh, almost want to cry, or maybe do both at the same time. You want to ask him if he remembers who is speaking to at all, but you cannot find the courage.

Suddenly, he looks in your direction and that peaceful yet painful moment is over. A strange look crosses his face and you can feel him tensing, back becoming just a bit straighter.

As you turn, the sound of a hundred of flapping wings taking off meets your ears. The shadows of pigeons in flight scatter across grass and the park path, crossing over the figures approaching briefly before ascending skyward.

The first foot to emerge from the shadows belongs to a tall blond hair with sharp eyes, followed by three or so other men.

You stare, but he doesn’t spare a glance in your direction.

“Keum, didn’t expect to see you in this part of Yeongduengpo.”

Wolf remains reticent. You look at him but he won’t take his eyes off of Donald.

Donald raises a hand to gesture to Wolf and you don’t miss the way his silver rings glint in the midday sun, all precious metal and shining gemstone. When he speaks, it’s almost a hiss.

“Come, I have last week’s reports to discuss with you.”

He doesn’t move from beside you, but you can hear him swallow thickly.

Donald begins to stroll again, the men beside him following suit. As he passes Wolf, he fails to even regard you and it makes you feel tiny.

A second passes as he holds his gaze with Wolf, it’s a challenge to disobey and it’s not at all unfamiliar to you. Those dreary nights Wolf has spent with you, both a man and a husk of a man, is because of Donald Na. It is within this essential and excruciating second that his behavior either becomes normal or abnormal, dictates whether he steeps deeper into that endless black sea or fights amidst the raging storm.

In this second, you hope he remembers himself, hope he remembers you. Those endless nights you’ve spent picking up pieces of his shattered self, putting him back together and brushing over the cracks with adoration. Those endless nights you’ve spent despairing for him, for yourself, for all the tears you’ve cried when trying to convince yourself this won’t get any better.

You hope that he proves you wrong this one time, hope that in his heart, he knows he’ll always have you.

But when you feel him pull his hand from yours, you already understand his answer.

You’re acquainted with this sensation in your throat, this burning in the back of your eyes. It’s made a home in your heart, barren since the day you ever laid eyes on Wolf Keum.

Still, a final flame of hope flickers within you.

You grab his hand just before he’s out of reach. When he looks back, he’s all sharp teeth and hard eyes but it’s nothing you can’t handle.

“Can we…” You want to speak, but your tongue feels leaden and dry. “Can we speak about this soon?”

Wolf’s face remains the blasé, brows set in a furrow and lips downturned into just the slightest scowl.

To a passerby who wasn’t looking for signs, he may seem apathetic, annoyed, even. But you were no passerby. For Wolf Keum, you’d always be willing. Waiting. Watching. For a glance, for a flutter, for anything that meant you hadn’t been the only one foolishly in love the entire time.

And for a second, you think he regards you with a gleam in his eye, something that resembles sorrow, or regret, or anything else that may ease the stale aching of your heart. But when he opens his mouth, it’s that same damning line again, that empty promise that keeps you stumbling in darkness for a trace of salvation.

“Maybe later.”

It will only ever be Wolf Keum that you allow yourself to be swindled by every time. You promise yourself this. Release his hand, or he pulls it away from you. You cannot tell which came first.

“I understand.” You say, heart breaking again.

You never will.

#weak hero #webtoon weak hero #wolf keum #seongji geum #wolf keum x reader #reader insert #fanfiction

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builder051 · 4 years ago

Note

Prompt! Whoa Bessie verse, what if Bucky gets really upset that Steve isn’t home on time or where he expects him to be, but it turns out he’s got sick or injured at work and is freaking out about not being able to get home to him

It’s one of the rare days when Steve has to work late, so Sam drops James off at the apartment after their PT session. James spends a little extra time sitting on the massage table, his hand on his knee, while Sam files his paperwork, then follows him out to the maroon sedan for the short ride.

“You call him and annoy him if he’s not on his way in an hour,” Sam tells James through the open driver’s side window. “He’s only taking on one extra session, so Mr. workaholic should not be taking any more time than that.”

James nods and waves, then lets himself into the building. He can wait an hour for Steve. He doesn’t need to be babysat; his seizure meds are working well enough that he doesn’t have to be watched every second of every day, and he’s assured Sam he doesn’t need to be a bother on family dinner night.

James toes off his shoes and sits softly on the couch. He’s afraid to turn on the TV, as if it’ll make too much noise and disturb the peace when he’s home alone. It’s counterintuitive, he knows, but he sticks with the logic all the same.

James instead heads for the bedroom and hefts himself onto the bed. He lays diagonally across it, his head in Steve’s spot and his feet in his own. He smells Steve’s shaving cream, and it makes him feel both sleepy and wakeful at the same time.

James sighs and looks at the clock beside the bed. Only 15 minutes have elapsed, giving him a full 45 before he’s expecting the ‘heading home’ text. He’s anxious, though, and it’s zapping his energy. James pulls his knees up so he can wrap his body around Steve’s pillow. He takes a few deep breaths, and before he knows it, sleep has come upon him.

When James comes to, dusk has fallen, and long shadows fill the apartment’s bedroom. He blinks in confusion, then, heart hammering, he checks the clock.

More than an hour has passed. He frantically reaches for his phone, desperate for word from Steve. To his horror, though, the screen is blank, and there are no missed messages. No missed calls. James’s heart sinks to his stomach.

With trembling fingers, James scrolls through his contacts and stops at Steve’s number. What if he’s been in an accident? Surely someone would have called him by now. Steve’s probably being Steve and getting caught up in extraneous paperwork. He’ll be frustrated when James calls, but at least it’ll be proof he’s alive. James thinks he will, anyway.

He presses the call button beside Steve’s contact information, then presses the phone to his ear and waits for it to ring out. It feels like an eternity passes, then Steve’s choked voice answers. “’Lo?”

“Stevie?”

“Buck,” Steve sighs. “I’m-- I’m so sorry...” Steve’s voice is off, and there’s an echoing factor to it, as if he’s in the lunchroom, or maybe a public bathroom.

“What’s going on?” Bucky demands, though his voice comes out small and frightened.

“I--” Steve starts, but then it’s cut off with a dry retch. “Sorry. It’s just... my head...and now my stomach...”

“Like, a migraine?” James asks, all too familiar with the debilitating pain.

“Something like that...”

“D’you want me to come get you?”

“How would you swing that?”

“Walking,” James says confidently.

“I don’t know...” Steve makes another gagging sound. “I don’t think I can go anywhere, to be honest.”

“Ok...” James thinks for a moment. “Can you get down to urgent care and get them to give you an IV? Fluids? Maybe a magnesium cocktail?”

“That’s, um...” James can practically see Steve slowly nodding. “OK. That’s an idea.”

“Call me when you get there,” James says. “I’ll walk and meet you.”

“It’s gonna be dark soon...”

“I don’t care.” James gets off the bed and resolutely goes to look for his shoes. “I’m going to take care of you. I’m going to get you home.”

#whoa bessie #marvel #mcu #fanfic #fanfiction #captain america #steve rogers #sam wilson #falcon #bucky barnes #winter soldier #sickfic #emeto #emetophilia #illumivomi #migraine #headache #hurt/comfort #stucky

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kagebros · 4 years ago

Text

Eroding

Summary: Takes place in Lost Light #16 - #18. Wing's time in the "Afterspark" almost feels like paradise. Eventually it only leads to his desolation as he realises where he truly is. Warnings: Major Character Death, Wing does not get a break :( Word Count: 2000

Wing wakes up somewhere he’s never been before. The last thing he remembers was the cramped space of the ever shrinking ship, Skip, holding Cyclonus back as tensions rose to the boiling point and suddenly there were alerts of having to bail out of the ship to avoid being crushed. He died. He and his whole crew died. He steps out onto the balcony and he cannot believe his optics. There stands a gigantic Matrix of Leadership up in the sky, but he doesn’t smile. He frowns instead as he recognises exactly where this place is. His past keeps coming back to haunt him.

Wing is with Brainstorm, Nautica and Nightbeat during this. He finds them examining one of the slabs and they wave him over, knowing he was part of the Circle of Light. It leaves a sick feeling in his tank as he looks at the scrawling on the stone slab. He’s the one to explain his suspicions that they’re in the Afterspark after piecing together the events that happened. But Wing is skeptical. His relationship with faith still was healing, the cracks of it still never fully fixed. He knew that it was fragile and easily broken. So he didn’t go into this with fully believing this was in fact the Afterspark. But then the thought hits his mind. And he transforms into his jet form without a word, leaving Brainstorm, Nautica and Nightbeat to their own devices.

He flies relentlessly, scanning, searching for him. And when he sees the tell tale sign of white paint and long pointed finials does he land. It’s Drift. Sitting there in a kneeling position. Wing doesn’t move for a while. He’s frozen to his spot as he stares at him from behind. There from in front of him is Drift’s voice. Clear as day.

“Are you going to just stand there or don’t you want to see my face?” Drift asks. And in that moment Wing rushes in and tackles Drift to the ground in a hug. Years and years of pent up grief, sorrow and longing pour out of Wing as he sobs in Drift’s grasp. It takes a bit for Wing to gather himself but Drift takes his servos and pulls him up, the two walking. “What happened after I died,” Drift asks. There’s a hitch in Wing’s breath and a falter in his step as he recalls.

“I pretty much died with you that day, Drift,” Wing then starts. “New Crystal City… no longer was the utopia I saw it to be. Everything was just… grey and lifeless. I lost myself when you died that day, Drift,” Wing says. “I changed for the worse,” he confesses. “That annoyingly optimistic Wing you met… died the day you sacrificed yourself. For me.”

“I don’t regret it, you know,” Drift says. “I couldn’t stand to see you die, especially because of the mistakes I made. I think it would have eaten at me if you died because of me.”

“Then that makes two of us,” Wing laughs weakly. He can’t believe what’s happening right now. Drift’s beside him. ...It doesn’t feel right. Maybe it’s because he’s spent so much time with Ratchet or away from New Crystal City, but this doesn’t exactly reignite his faith in Primus or anything. It only feels worse when Drift says something that doesn’t feel characteristic of him. It’s only something that Wing’s heard in his dreams if anything.

“I waited for you, you know,” Drift then says. “I didn’t want to ascend without seeing you again.”

“We don’t have to,” Wing says this time. “We can just stay here and make up for lost time.” Drift frowns.

“You don’t want to ascend? I thought that’s what the Circle of Light had taught you.”

“Drift, I’m no longer a part of the Circle of Light,” Wing says. “I told you I died with you that day. My faith was shattered that day.” And Wing sees Drift flicker just for a moment.

“But you’re my sparkmate,” Drift says, almost hurt from what Wing said earlier. Wing lets go of Drift’s servos as the realisation sets in.

That realisation is cut short as he’s zapped from where he is and he reappears in a dark room surrounded by familiar figures he’d seen in readings and back in New Crystal City. He sees Rodimus is in the room with him. At this moment though, it’s just Wing and the Guiding Hand. He cuts Rodimus off before he can say anything. “No,” Wing says. Only a second later do Magnus and Ratchet appear. Wing steps back in disbelief as rage fills his very core. “You’re not real,” he says out loud in defiance. His already fragile relationship with faith is shattered once again. The image of the Guiding Hand flickers. “This is just some kind of sick joke, isn’t it,” Wing then says. “That wasn’t Drift down there. Was it,” he then asks. The image flickers again and warps before the four are dropped onto the ground.

“What just happened?” Rodimus asks. Wing stands up slowly, fists balled up tight as he shakes with a quiet rage that makes any question Rodimus has immediately go away.

It’s all been a ruse, a trick and Wing fell right into it. That wasn’t Drift earlier. And the revelation of that leaves him devastated.

“Come on,” Wing says after a moment. “We need to figure out what this place is before anyone gets hurt.”

“Can you see that, Wing?” Ratchet then asks, knowing that Wing is the only one within the group right now who’s seen through all this. “‘We are all trapped light.’ I’m sure I’ve heard that phrase before...”

“I see it,” Wing replies.

“I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about,” Rodimus replies.

“It’s not there,” Magnus says. “There’s nothing there,” he says as he looks up at the temple entrance.

Rodimus, Ultra Magnus and Ratchet enter the temple with Wing and they walk further into the halls until they see a door. The letters W-0 are painted on and Ratchet points at it.

“I suppose you can’t see this either?” Ratchet asks both Rodimus and Magnus.

“See what?” Rodimus replies.

“That. The letter W, the number zero.”

There’s a glass pillar in the centre with green electrical energy bouncing within the walls. Surrounding it are organic looking beings on slabs essentially hooked up to this pillar.

“Some kind of lab?” Magnus asks.

“More like a hospital...” Ratchet responds.

“W for ward, then,” Magnus says.

“Ward zero,” Rodimus adds.

The four converse for a bit before Wing hushes everyone. The beings on the slabs are speaking in their own languages.

“Prepare, confront, repel… they’re all saying that,” Magnus says.

“And before you ask, no chanting is not normal,” Ratchet adds.

“Ok, then, question two,” Rodimus starts. Wing immediately draws his swords. ”When does a chant become a summons?”

There’s the sound of rumbling and the room is suddenly filled with four stone golems.

“How do we get ourselves into these situations?” Ratchet asks in exasperation. “And more to the point, how do we get out of them?”

“You’re not going to believe this, but I know these guys,” Rodimus then says.

“Old friends, right? Please say they’re old friends,” Ratchet sighs. One of the golems punches Rodimus.

“To be fair, that’s not conclusive proof either way,” Magnus adds. The four manage to dispatch the stone golems fairly easily, Wing slicing through one of them with his swords and immediately kicking one towards Magnus to finish off.

“I have to say, last time we met, they put up more of a fight,” Rodimus says as he deals the finishing blow.

“Not that you’re complaining,” Magnus says.

“Not that I’m complaining,” Rodimus agrees.

During this time Wing hasn’t said anything. He’s still stewing in his anger from earlier and while Ratchet converses with Magnus to figure out what exactly this is and how to disable it, Wing takes a chair and throws it through the glass chamber. There’s a bright light that is almost overwhelming to the four of them until the light subsides, leaving them in a more modern medical setting. Before Magnus can scold Wing for his abrupt action, Rodimus places a servos on Magnus’ arm as if to tell him this wasn’t the time. So instead he turns towards Ratchet as he explains where they are. And what this place truly was.

When Rodimus gets to the part of where the program used their innermost desires and projected that, Wing feels even sicker than before. And then the hollowness comes back much much worse than Wing ever imagined. He snaps out of it when he hears Magnus.

“I’ll let the others know. Whirl? Are Trailcutter and Pipes still there? Because if they are, they won’t be for much longer I need you to -” Magnus pauses. “This isn’t the Afterspark, the dead haven’t come back to life and don’t ever call me Chunky.” There’s a response. “They probably think they are real. Which is why you have to tell them the truth - before they disappear like the Matrix. If anyone wants to say their goodbyes… They haven’t got much time-” Wing doesn’t hear the rest of what Magnus has to say before he races out of the room and stands outside, trying to let his mind be willing just one last time.

And Drift’s in front of him once again. But Wing can see the illusion already fading away slowly.

“I just need to tell you this. Any semblance of you, I don’t care if you’re fake,” Wing starts. “But I love you. I always loved you from the moment you told me why you joined the Decepticons, I loved you. I just wish I had the chance to tell you when you were alive.” He takes Drift’s servos into his and then embraces him for one last time. “I love you,” he breathes. And he’s gone.

And Wing collapses to his knees, hangs his helm low as he grits his dermas, optics shut tight as he cries again. He gets back up and goes back into the ward. He sees Nautica’s in there this time and sees a familiar greyed out mech in the arms of someone he hasn’t seen before. But that mech. His optics dim as his spark feels like it’s about to give out with the amount of grief that washes over him.

“Axe?” Wing calls out.

“I’m sorry, Wing - if I’d known he was a friend, I wouldn’t have, you know, used him to make an entrance,” Nautica says apologetically. Wing doesn’t reply as he takes his dear friend’s lifeless frame into his own arms. “I found him in a morgue downstairs - along with hundreds more like him.” Wing looks towards Nautica now.

“Did you see a mech that looked similar to me,” Wing asks sternly. He’s hoping desperately that Redline wasn’t among them too.

“Yes,” Nautica replies. “Wing. I. I think the entire Circle of Light was down there.” His spark feels like it’s about to give out again. He immediately begins to look around in Axe’s compartment and everyone shoots him a look of disgust and confusion. “What are you doing?!” Nautica asks. Wing ignores everyone’s protest and finds the thing he’s looking for, an old miniature datapad. When he looks at it, the words that Wing wrote so long ago hit him like a train.

Don’t look for me.

The datapad clatters to the floor. He doesn’t feel real right now. Today has just been blow after blow after blow and Wing thought he could fight against it and stay strong. But his will is so weak. And he feels it about to happen.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Wing breathes. It gives out. Everything in him shuts down and he collapses to the floor. He can’t hear the frantic panic of everyone. He doesn’t hear Rodimus and Ratchet’s panicked voices.

WING! Wing! Wing, wake up, wake up. Wake UP, WING!

#wrift #drift #wing #maccadam #transformers #kagebros.writing #im so sorry im so sorry wing

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aasterisck · 3 years ago

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winter soldier x reader - part 3

I rest my head against the window of the car, Captain America sitting next to me.

"Can I just,"

"No,"

"But it'll be faster,"

"No (y/n),"

"Fine,"

We arrive and we're sitting in a room, watching the monitor as Bucky gets asked various questions.

"Something's off," I whisper to Steve and he nods, I cross my arms, eyes glued to the doctor.

Suddenly the power goes out, "No," I clench my fists landing behind the chamber Bucky is in. I stay quiet as I listen to the conversation.

The doctor starts to say words and Bucky yells for him to stop, my head is pounding as I run towards the doctor, quickly kicking him in the stomach. I notice the doctor is talking in Russian before he stops to look at me.

"Two of you, fantastic,"

He's out of his restraints as he punches the glass, the doctor still speaking Russian, Homecoming? One?

"(y/n)! Get out of here!" the glass falls to the ground Bucky running towards me as I turn around.

"Freight car,"

I watch Bucky kneel down and I quickly follow, no longer controlling my own body as I stand up next to him looking straight ahead.

"Ready to comply," we say in unison and he smiles walking over to Bucky.

"Mission December 16, 1991," he asks and Bucky replies before telling us to create a distraction.

Everything happens and I can see it but I don't have control over it. I fight my own mind but nothing is working.

"I don't want to fight you," the man in front of me holds up his hand a glowing circle in it.

"Then don't," I throw a punch only to be sent flying back. I get up running towards the man but I stumble, someone else's bullet in my shoulder.

I fall to the ground holding my shoulder screaming for help. As I wait for someone to come to my aid I look over at Bucky who nods understanding what it is I want to do, quickly I look away. The same guy with the glowing hand comes to my aid.

"(y/n)?"

"Don't know her,"

I grab his face and jam it right into my knee before kicking him back. Bucky grabs him and sends him flying, He ends up using his boost and softly lands. My arm is pulled and I run behind Bucky skipping steps to get to the roof, where a helicopter awaits us.

Bucky sits in the pilot gets into the pilot's seat and as I run around I'm hit in the back by a shield, sending me to the ground. With a groan, I crawl to the other side, Bucky almost in the air. He opens the door dragging me into the helicopter. I hold my shoulder to try and prevent the bleeding.

"Why aren't we moving,"

"Look," he says through gritted teeth.

He leans back for me to look through the window, "What the-" The man with the shield is holding the helicopter while also holding onto the helicopter pad, keeping it from flying away.

I rest my head on the seat, before looking at Bucky, "Fly into him," I tell him and he hesitates before moving the helicopter stick towards the man.

We crash into the pad the helicopter spinning out of control before balancing. I try to kick my door out as Bucky punches his hand through the glass holding the man by the neck. I see the tail of the helicopter fall and I kick faster but the door seems to be stuck. The helicopter shifts and I feel it start leaning and then it starts falling.

I continue to kick the door finally getting it off the helicopter. Dropping out of the helicopter and landing in the water below. The sound of the debris hits the water as I come up for air, not realizing a piece of the helicopter pad is falling until it's too late, knocking me out.

Slowly I open my eyes blinking a few times getting a sense of where I am. My legs are outstretched in front of me, my hands tied behind me. I clench my fists but nothing happens. Closing my eyes I try again, imagining where I want to be.

"Don't," the familiar voice in front of me stares at me, his silver arm under a press.

Confused I furrow my eyebrows and he nods over to the opening, slowly I turn my head unsure of what I'll see. Taking a deep breath when I see Steve and Sam, dropping my head between my knees. Bucky finishes explaining why he's here and I've proceeded the lay down on the pavement tired from everything that happened before. Wait, what happened before? I quickly sit up frantically looking between Steve and Bucky.

"Some things we never mentioned," Bucky nods over to me, "Her memories don't come back,"

"What else?" asks Steve walking over to me.

"I can't heal like the rest of them do... If you haven't noticed," he removes the cuffs around my wrists.

I massage them, clenching my fist to see the blue glow around them.

"Yeah, but she can do that,"

They all stare at me as I place my glowing hand over the wound, having already removed my jacket and pulled my shirt down to reveal it. The stinging sensation makes me tap my foot as I close my eyes. Once done I let my body fall, my hand still over the wound.

"Since she can't heal like the rest of us-"

"(y/n) drains her energy using her power," Bucky nods at Steve's words.

"How many super soldiers are there?" Sam asks confused by the whole situation

"Eight, I think," I mumble

"And they're all strong?" we all nod.

"Apparently HYDRA's best,"

"Including these two?" he points at Bucky and me, looking over at Steve.

With a quick blink, I stand behind Sam, "Boo,"

"Oh, I hate you for that,"

Bucky and I laugh as I blink once again stumbling to the ground as I land back at the wall I was sitting against.

"Ha! That's what you get!" I stick my tongue out at him dropping my head as I catch my breath.

"So how does it work (y/n)?"

"How does what work?" I ask my head still hanging as the world spins.

"I've seen you clench your fists but you didn't just now,"

"Oh," I open my palm to show him a glowing orb, flicking it in his direction so it lands at his feet, "I mean, I can teleport whenever, I don't have to do anything," I say now behind him, "I think it depends how far I want to go,"

"So if you went to the complex-"

I clench my fists so I'm there quickly grabbing water from the fridge before going back to wherever Steve is hiding us.

"Yup, I can't just blink that one,"

"But you don't always teleport when you clench your fists,"

"Well, I think about what I want to do," I open my hand showing a blue orb, "I want to heal? I'll think about that, teleport? I'll think about where I want to go and I'll go there and so on," I sigh sitting back against the wall.

"What else can you do?" asks Sam

"Oh, this," with a snap Bucky is on the floor an electric current from his arm into his body paralyzes him, "Zap," I snap again and it stops. He glares at me, his jaws clenched and I feel my heart stop.

"If you don't keep your memories. How do you know Bucky hurt you?"

"Muscle memory?" I shrug with a small smile, my attempt at a joke being just an attempt. The world starts spinning again and I close my eyes, "They would send the currents through our brain if we didn't cooperate, removing our memories right?"

"Yeah,"

"Every time I misbehaved...or broke his arm, I would get sent there and then Bucky would beat the shit out of me," I shrug, "I don't think he meant it,"

"I didn't," I still can't look him in the eyes

"It was like I was programmed to mess him up," I press my lips together, "My brain didn't care about the consequences, as long as my target was down,"

"What is your..." Sam looks for the right words with his hands, "Thing, the hand thing what is it?"

"Electric,"

"Really?"

I nod, "I don't know how but that's what the serum gave me. Strength, electricity, and teleportation,"

"And combat," Steve adds

"That too," I point at him standing up, putting my jacket back on. "Now what?"

✩•̩̩͙*ೃ˚.˚ଘo(∗ ❛ั ᵕ ❛ั )੭່˙ᴵˈ ˡˡ ᵖʳᵒᵗᵉᶜᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˚.*ೃ

#wintersoldier #wintersoldierxreader #wintersoldierfanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #y/n #buckybarnes #buckyxreader #buckybarnesxreader #bucky x you #buckyfic

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yatorihell · 4 years ago

Text

In The Darkness Chapter 70 - Sectumsempra

Noragami x Harry Potter AU

Words: 3,429

Summary: The trio tries to find what Nora is doing with disastrous consequences.

Also available on Yatorihell AO3

As expected, Slytherin lost to Hufflepuff by a landslide.

The team captain didn’t even bother looking in Yato’s direction once the match ended; he was probably glad to see the back of the supposed ‘Best Seeker’ Hogwarts had ever seen.

Once again, Hiyori and Yukine found Yato in the library following the defeat. It was alive with fifth and seventh years students in a never-ending cycle of revision and studying as they reached the halfway point of the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s exams. Something that Yato really should’ve been doing.

“Why did I get back into Quidditch?” Yato said morosely. He had his head on his arm, stretched out across the table. He received a few dirty looks from a group of fifth-year Hufflepuffs who were trying to find a space to study.

Hiyori and Yukine exchanged looks but didn’t answer the rhetorical question.

“At least you won’t have to play Gryffindor for the cup,” Hiyori said helpfully.

It was slightly helpful. But there was a tinge of sadness that he wouldn’t be playing Quidditch anymore – at least not in Hogwarts, or for his house.

Yato straightened himself and spread his hands on the table with a sigh. “One less thing to worry about, I guess.”

“And it looks like Nora has stopped too,” Yukine commented. “The last thing she did was the wine, and that was before Christmas.”

Yato hummed. Nora had been evasive the entire year – except for her kidnapping and murder attempts –, and now she was openly glaring at him at every turn. He could only feel that something larger was at work.

His mind began to scheme. If Nora was planning something… he could catch her in the act. He’d have the proof he needed that she was the one who sent the necklace and the wine to kill Professor Tenjin.

“Has she been acting differently?” Yato asked, trying to seem nonchalant. “Aside from the murderous stares I’ve been getting.”

“We’ve been getting,” Hiyori corrected. “I can feel eyes burning in the back of my head in classes I have with her.”

Yukine plopped his chin in his hand, looking thoughtful. “Well, she leaves dinner early almost every day.”

Yato perked up. It had become so repetitive that in his distractions he’d gotten used to seeing Nora leave at least half an hour before everyone else, but Yukine had always noticed from his seat on the end of Hufflepuff’s table.

“Do you know where she’s been going to?” Yato asked.

Yukine shrugged. “Dunno, upstairs somewhere. I don’t think it's a book club.”

“You said that she goes every day?” Yato reaffirmed.

Hiyori could sense trouble brewing from Yukine’s frown. He didn’t like it when Yato showed an interest; it usually led to bad things. “Yeah, every day.”

“Well then,” Yato said. “Let’s find out what she’s up to.”

After some protesting from Hiyori and Yukine – and some convincing from Yato that he would need someone to keep him out of trouble anyway – the plan was set.

The next day, Yato, Hiyori and Yukine waited inside the Great Hall at dinnertime. They waited, watching for the moment.

As expected, Nora stood and left, heading up the grand staircase. In unison, Yato, Hiyori, and Yukine stood up and left the Great hall, dinner half-eaten.

When she disappeared around the corner of the stairs, they followed at a pace that seemed too close for comfort. The moving staircases proved difficult to maneuver as they tried not to lose her in the labyrinth of hallways. They’d agreed to split up in case she caught onto the fact she was being followed or tried to use any of the secret passages that led out of Hogwarts.

Yukine split away on the fourth floor where a tunnel was hidden behind a mirror. Hiyori left on the fifth floor at the tunnel guarded by a statue of Gregory the Smarmy, but by the time Yato reached the seventh floor, there was no sign of Nora.

Yato cursed under his breath and paused. There were no signs of life aside from the lit torches set into the walls, but it did nothing to help him. He was careful to stay hidden in case Nora was just around the corner, but she was never there. There were no more tunnels higher than the fifth floor, making it impossible for Nora to have slipped past them. He checked every open classroom and listened at every closed door, checked behind the troll ballet tapestry.

Nothing. Nora had vanished into thin air.

Yato begrudgingly made his way back down to the sixth floor. He found Hiyori at her post by the statue. She seemed surprised to see him.

“Don’t tell me you lost her?” Hiyori said.

Yato would’ve been annoyed at the incredulous way she said it, but he was out of breath from the stairs. “She just disappeared.”

Hiyori frowned. “She hasn’t been down this way – no one has. She must be up there somewhere.”

Yato froze with sudden realisation. “You don’t think…”

“She’s using the Room of Requirement?” Hiyori finished.

It clicked into place the second it was spoken. Nora disappeared on the seventh floor, and they knew Nora was aware of it; she was the one who led Oshi to them to stop their secret Order of the Phoenix.

Hiyori suddenly placed a hand on Yato’s arm and tugged him into the shadows of an alcove, her gaze locked on something behind him.

Yato turned his head. Footsteps rang on the stone behind them and a second later Nora came barrelling past. She didn’t notice the two of them tucked to the side watching as she rounded the landing and continued her descent.

“Get Yukine,” Yato hissed.

Yato kept his eyes locked on Nora as he tried to keep up. She seemed to stumble as she reached the ground floor, a hand clasped over her mouth. The Great Hall was abandoned, the benches empty and the plates cleared as Yato ducked into the door’s alcove.

Nora’s footsteps receded and as Yato poked his head around the corner, she turned sharply and pushed open the door to the girl’s bathroom.

Yato slowly paced closer and pressed his back to the wall of the bathroom. After a moment, running water sounded from within. He hesitated for a moment, debating whether to go to the Room of Requirement and find what she had done, before following her inside.

The bathroom was filled with rows of empty toilet cubicles that stretched to the right. The tall lattice windows cast grey shadows onto the floor, interrupted by mirrors which hung in front of the basins where Nora was splashing her face with water, breathing heavily.

She didn’t notice Yato’s presence as he stepped inside. The door closed behind him.

“What are you doing?”

Nora startled at the sound of his voice. Her head whipped up so her face, paler than the white tiles, reflected back at him in the mirror. Silence hung in the air between them, thick and cloying as the water trickled down the drain. Nora’s head dipped so she was staring into the sink basin, forcing down bile and tremors that coursed her body.

It set Yato on edge to see her this way. Nora was shaken, and she never showed emotion or weakness. Yato took a step closer, cautious but determined. Nora’s grip tightened on the sink.

“Why are you trying to kill the headmaster?”

“Father…” Nora looked up. Words danced on the tip of her tongue; a secret not meant to be shared.

For a moment Nora looked like the scared little girl he’d met all those years ago, her big eyes looking at up Yato and her hand enclosed with Father’s. And then she was gone. The little girl was dead, replaced by a stoic expression and cold eyes that found his as she turned around.

“Why are you doing this?” Yato asked. “What will it achieve?”

“It would bring you home.”

Yato paused. Nora’s voice was so quiet that he may have misheard her, but she made no mistake in her revelation.

“You were meant to fall in love with me, and you would come home with me, back to Father, and we could be a family again.”

It struck Yato harder than it should have; he knew those chocolates never came from Hiyori in the first place. How could she, a Gryffindor, get into Slytherins dorms to place them? But the idea to have him fall in love with Nora, who could’ve so easily led him back to the Sorcerer, was a new, twisted kind of trick.

“The headmaster would die, and the Ministry would fall…” Nora continued.

She paused and Yato felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

“No one would have to get hurt if you came home.”

Nora fired a spell faster than Yato could draw his own wand. He threw himself to the side, landing harshly on the cold tile, and dragged himself behind a row of toilet cubicles. In the midst of splintering tile and flashes of colour and the fumbling for his own wand, Yato cursed himself for not noticing her sliding her wand from her pocket.

She had tried to kidnap him twice. She had tried to kill the headmaster twice. She had cursed Hiyori, poisoned him, and now she was going to take him back to Father if it was the last thing she did.

Yato couldn’t – wouldn’t – let her take him.

Yato threw himself against a wall and peered around the side, narrowing missing a hit as Nora threw another spell at him. Yato ducked as it exploded against the opposite wall and returned fire. A volley of wordless spells flew between them, crashing against cubicles, mirrors, and pipes that burst in a shower of glass and water.

Yato caught glimpses of Nora reflected in the clouded windows and shattered glass and pools of water, but at every turn she was waiting with deadly recoil of a viper. Overhead, under doors, around corners, the attacks were relentless, zapping Yato’s energy as the water pipes doused him as he ran and sought cover. His wand was warm in his fist when the name came.

“Yaboku…”

Yato’s blood ran cold. The glimpse of a shadow from the corner of his eye brought a fresh bought of rage that he hadn’t felt since... since…

Since Sakura died.

White-hot anger filled Yato. One spell reared in the front of his memory, malicious and perfectly crafted to wield hate and turn it into a deadly weapon. One that would end this.

Yato darted out from his hiding spot and stood side-on, and, before Nora could aim her wand, cursed.

“Sectumsempra!”

Nora’s winded shriek was cut short by a thump and a tinkling of glass.

Yato edged forward, wand still tight in his hand. Water gushed from the pipes and created a mirrored pool on the floor that reflected the stormy scene beyond the darkened lattice windows. His footsteps rippled the water as he rounded the corner.

Nora lay on her back, wand cast to the side. Blood blossomed through her clothes, saturating them and diluting the water around her until the tendrils had seeped around his shoes. Her chest rose and fell quickly with a mixture of gurgled coughs and cries.

Yato froze. The blood rushed to his ears, blocking out the sound of someone entering the bathroom and their mortified words. A whoosh of black robes brushed by his side – Madame Kofuku, her face stricken as she looked down at Nora, the blood, the spell she knew all too well. She dropped to her knees, wands in hand and already moving over the expanse of Nora’s shredded body, chanting over and over again ‘Vulnera Sanentur’.

Yato felt his stomach as he bolted out of the room.

The look Professor Tenjin had given him during the hour-long tirade and interrogation about where he had learned such a spell had reduced Yato’s mind to numbness. He admitted everything: how he got the book from Madame Kofuku, cheated in tests, and learned the spell without realising until he snapped.

Yato felt worse when Madame Kofuku joined them. He’d thrown her under the bus, and now she may be fired the same way Daikoku was.

“She’s fine,” Madame Kofuku said as she gently closed the door. “Bruised and shaken, but fine.”

Yato couldn’t even feel angry at that; what he’d done was dark, despicable. Exactly what Father wanted him to be.

Professor Tenjin closed his eyes with another deep sigh. His eyebrows pinched together, and Yato waited to be expelled. Finally, he spoke.

“You can’t take back what you’ve done,” Professor Tenjin said bitterly. He opened his eyes with a gaze that pierced straight through Yato. “But that book must not pass through anyone’s hands. Do you understand?”

Yato felt his stomach knot. Madame Kofuku hadn’t taught him the spell, not directly, not intentionally. It was a forgotten spell, concealed in a book twenty years old that should have never seen the light of day. Her kindness to help him had hurt another and risked her own position at Hogwarts, and for that he alone was responsible.

Yato nodded. He understood.

Yato left the office and made his way down the winding staircase, the book in hand. It was nearly curfew by the time he reached the main hallway, but students still lingered in the dying sunlight in the courtyard. He could feel eyes on him, the looks thrown in his direction by students who knew what he had done.

Madman, monster, murderer, his thoughts taunted as he tried to ignore their gazes.

Yato was surprised to find Hiyori stood outside the Great Hall, her arms wrapped around her waist as she looked around. There was no sign of Yukine; he was probably already back in the dorms. As soon Hiyori’s eyes caught on him she released herself and took a step forward.

Yato stopped short and hid the book behind his back, as a defense to keep her from the terrible spell within it, knowing what it could do. What he had done.

Hiyori’s eyes caught on it, and she could tell that whatever it was, it wasn’t something he wanted to talk about.

“I need to get rid of something…” Yato trailed off.

Hiyori paused for a second, eyes lowered to where the book rested behind his back and nodded. “Ok, I’ll see you -,”

“Will you come with me?”

The question was rushed in a breath, tentative and desperate. It surprised her – he could see it in the slight way she was taken aback by the directness. He half-expected her to say no, that it was almost curfew, but she didn’t.

“Ok.”

Hiyori fell into step beside Yato as they ascended the grand staircase, the book hidden by his side. They walked in silence, past the dimly lit torches that spread light through the darkened halls as they left the world behind.

When they arrived on the seventh floor Hiyori wondered if Yato was still fixed on finding what Nora had done, until she caught a glimpse of the book behind his back as he opened the door of the Room of Requirement and held it for her.

Hiyori stepped inside. The Room of Requirement had morphed into what they needed – into what Yato needed – right at that moment. Gone were the light fixtures and broken lattice windows, the Deatheater dummies, and the fireplace that kept them warm through training sessions.

The room was stacked high with an assortment of junk. Broken chandeliers that had hung in the Great Hall, tomes and parchments motheaten and rotten, boxes and artifacts and wardrobes and chairs stack high in towers that would fall like a Jenga tower if one item was removed. A tall wooden cabinet stood against the nearest heap, its door slightly ajar yet empty.

The door softly closed behind her, and Hiyori turned.

Yato seemed just as surprised to see the dumpsite as her, but he knew the clue was in the name. Whatever you need, the room would provide. His eyes left the caving towers and found Hiyori. Only now did he pull the book from behind his back and hold it in both hands. He looked down at it, the very thing that had helped him and hurt another.

The silence stretched between them before he held it out to Hiyori.

Hiyori took it gently and read the smeared cover before she flipped it open. It was a Potions textbook, graffitied and worn with age.

“It’s Madame Kofuku’s old textbook,” Yato said.

Hiyori spared him a glance but he wouldn’t meet it. He explained how Madame Kofuku saw him struggle, how she mastered every potion and gave him her book to help, and how he used it to win the Liquid Luck.

All through it, Hiyori listened.

Hiyori flicked through the pages, taking in the expansive notes and edits beside each potion. It fell into place how Yato had become so good at potions, besting Yukine for the entire year no matter the task.

“This is where I…” The questioning look Hiyori gave him was nearly enough for Yato to recoil, to take the book and tell her to leave him to do this himself, but he swallowed it down. “Found the spell.”

The silence stretched endlessly, and Yato felt his blood run cold. He wondered if Hiyori would leave, tell him not to come near her ever again.

Madman, monster, murderer.

But Hiyori never spoke or moved. She looked at him, not with pity, but with the understanding that he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and made stupid mistakes that he couldn’t take back.

“We need to hide it, so no one will find it again,” Yato looked around, unable to her gaze. “This seems like the best place.”

Few people knew of the Room of Requirement. Merlin’s Cave could’ve been hidden within it and they would be none the wiser.

“Alright, close your eyes.”

Yato looked at Hiyori. Her grip had tightened on the book, but her eyes were clear with intent. He opened his mouth to question, but she cut him off.

“That way you can't be tempted. Close your eyes.”

Yato closed his mouth, and after a moment, his eyes.

He could hear the gentle tap of her footsteps retreat, disappearing and meandering through the lost treasures the room held. He heard his own breathing in the silence, waiting, telling himself not to peak, to avoid the temptation. He was so entranced with his own thoughts that he didn’t realise Hiyori had come back, or perhaps she had meant to sneak up on him.

A smile tugged at Hiyori’s lips as her eyes roamed over his face, taking in and seeing how much he had grown from the boy she had met. He was still taller than her, but she didn’t complain. She watched Yato’s expression; the way his eyes moved beneath his eyelids as he fought the urge to open his eyes, the gentle breath that passed through his lips.

Hiyori felt a pull, but she ignored it. Whatever he had said under a love potion wasn’t real. The feelings that she had for him were just a crush that would fade, even if it had been years since she had realised she liked him. The way he smiled at her, the way he protected her, these were all things friends do for each other.

Still, she could tease him as much as he teased her.

“Maybe I can stay hidden up here if you like.”

Yato startled, but a smile twitched in the corner of his mouth. Her voice was little more than a whisper, unbelievably close to his face, so close that he could feel the heat of her breath and the smell of her warmth.

Yato’s eyes begged to open, even flutter, but he kept them shut as promised. He hesitated before he found the courage to move his head closer to where he thought she should be, seeking her out with the same desperation he would for the Snitch. He didn’t know what he may have said or done whilst under the effects of the love potion, but he knew everything was true when she was only a breath away from him. She must have known it too.

She said nothing more, and after a moment of waiting the door clicked shut behind him.

Yato opened his eyes, and Hiyori was gone.

#noragami #noragami aragoto #yatori #yato #yukine #tenjin #hiyori #nora #kofuku #hp au #in the darkness #harry potter au

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missblissy · 5 years ago

Text

Rebirth (Chapter Six)

Alastor X Human!Reader ((Reincarnation!AU))

Prologue || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six

((THE TAG LIST IS CURRENTLY DOWN UNTIL I CAN FIX IT!! PLEASE UNDERSTAND THAT I AM TRYING TO DO EVERYTHING I CAN! I PROMISE TO HAVE THE TAGGED LIST BACK UP FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER)) ((HERE IS THE SONG THAT ALASTOR SINGS))

“You want to summon... A demon? You do know that goes against literally everything I stand by?” Sage stared at you with narrow eyes. She didn’t seem too pleased that you had asked.

And you weren’t too pleased that three years of friendship turned out to be a twisted lie, “I don’t think I know anything about you,” You said with a little to much attitude, “I thought you were a chemist that traveled a lot for work. Turns out my best friend is actually a magical witch that kills demons for a living!”

Sage knew she had hurt you, you could see it on her face. You expected her to snap back like she normally would. But she showed complete control, she took a breath in and then out, “I am under an oath to not to share this information with anyone outside my bloodline. I’ve have broken that one and only rule twice. For Van, and for you. I’m supposed to kill you now,” Her words were so cold you almost thought she would. Sage did nothing but give you a stern look. You felt like a child under that gaze, she was only four years older than, but she had the energy of 100-year-old pagan, “I’d rather die for it than let either of you be harmed in any way shape or form. Sharing this information with you has put our lives at risk. So long as you play dumb when you need to, everything will hopefully be fine, but I can’t promise that. So you can see why I kept this from you for so long. I hope you understand it wasn’t to lie or deceive you. It was to protect you. But now the only way for me to protect you is to tell you everything you need to know.”

You suddenly felt immature and bratty. She was right. You were blind to the bigger picture and you felt a little dumb, “I’m sorry,” You said, “I just felt... I don’t know. All of this is so crazy. I feel like the who universe is lying to me and you were apart of that. I know your intentions were in the right place,”

There was a moment of silence between the two of you. There was a mutual understanding and you both silently agreed to move on, “Why do you want to summon a demon? I need to know your reasoning before I share this information with you.”

You could understand her concerns, “Well, what if I were to learn how to summon Alastor? Maybe for a trap?” You told her with a warry voice.

“Well, I wouldn’t doubt it if he had this place tapped in any way. He’s probably listening to us right now. I doubt he’d dare to step out though.”

“Why?” You were curious to see why she was so confident.

“Because I can kill him. And he knows that. He’s too proud and important to let something like that happen. Because if I kill him, Eon will die too. I have a divine weapon that my father passed down to me and his father before him. The Morning Sword, the same sword Lucifer lifted towards God in his rebellion and the same sword he lost when he fell from grace.”

Holy shit. You had to see this sword, “Where is?” You asked, “Can I see?”

Sage smirked slightly, her blue eyes sparkled a little. She nodded, “Sure,” With a quick wave of her hand, a sword started to manifest before your eyes. It was made of silver and gold, with its own source of blue light leaking between the designs. It fell quickly into Sage’s hand and she swiftly turned it and placed it before you. The blade rested in her open palms, “This sword destroys any soul it comes in contact with,”

“Why isn’t it hurting you then?” You asked, not sure if you wanted to touch it or not.

“Souls are protected deep within our bodies,” Sage explained.

You reached out and placed a finger on the glowing blade. A little zap of electricity pricked your finger. You were just about to take the sword in your own hands when a little buzz went off. Sage pulled out her phone, gave it one look, then sighed heavily.

“I have to go,” She said while the sword fizzled out of existence. She opened her mouth to explain but you cut her off.

“I understand. Demon stuff.”

Sage’s smile was small but wholesome, “Everything you need is in this bag,” You had almost forgotten that it was sitting next to you, “I’ll text you, okay?” She quickly got up to her feet and soon she was at the door, “Let Van know if you need anything too. I’ll see you late, (Y/n),”

You waved at your friend and watched her go. You were alone again and you felt a chill. You remembered what Sage said, about Alastor having this place tapped.

You wanted to see him, and you hated admitting that to yourself. The book had answered some questions. Things like who you were when you were a demon. You were called The Crybaby Demon, and you were the Gate Keeper of Hell. You married Alastor seven or eight years after meeting him. Eon technically owned your soul but since you were reincarnated, he lost his power over it. And even how you met and fell in love with Alastor.

It was hard to see him as the same demon who was trying to trick you into going to hell. It was more like... someone desperately trying to get back to their life. Or afterlife in this case.

You stood up from the couch. You looked around slowly then felt stupid as you called out, “Alastor...?” Nothing happened. Maybe he really left for good?

Suddenly Buck came out from hiding. He slowly walked from your bedroom and his tiger eyes watched your every move. That's when you remembered that... Buck had something to do with all of this.

You felt silly as you reached your hand out. Buck rubbed his cheek against your fingers and purred loudly, “Can you bring Alastor here?” You asked quietly.

And that’s when you felt it. That energy that caused your hairs to rise. The soft stale static fizzled in and out of your ear. He was here. What happened to that big screaming portal? Or could he hide that from your eyes too? You looked around and followed the waves as they pulsed from where ever Alastor was hiding. You faced the windows between your kitchen and living room.

You saw the curtains flutter slightly, then you saw a shadow flash across the floor, “Alastor?” You called out with a weak voice. You weren’t sure where he went.

As you started to take a few steps back, you felt a cold chill on the back of your neck, “You called~?” His voice was loud and muffled at the same time. He spoke through that filter, that old microphone voice. You spun around and saw Alastor grinning at you, “Hello, my darling dear.”

You were frozen for a second. You almost forgot that he was a demon. A murderer. And if you could remember correctly... a cannibal. You gulped, then spoke weakly, “Hi,” You started, “I... I wanted to see you,” As you admitted that you saw Alastor’s smile grow, “I’ve been reading the book you left. And... I want to know more about who I was. Parts of the book won’t appear for me- even with my blood! They just stay blank,”

Alastor chuckled then began to walk in a circle around you, “I’m aware,” He grinned loosely, “I can’t get all the pages to show for me, either, so I can’t help you there,”

“I thought it wouldn’t work for you?” Didn’t the book say it was cursed or something so Alastor couldn’t read it?

“I found a way in. But the book only shows me what it wants me to see, the same for you, darling, what did it show you?”

That didn’t make sense... The book only showed you passages about Alastor. If it showed him something different than what he saw... “It only showed me things about you,”

Something sparkled in his eyes and he took a step towards you. Leaning down into your sights, “What could you ever want to know about me?” His eyes were wide and wild as they flashed an emotion in them that you could barely pick out.

Your heart raced and you felt a little frightened, “You... were my husband?”

“I was,” He hummed lowly.

“You loved me?” You had to hear him say it. You didn’t know why, but you just had to.

“I did,” Alastor took a step away from you, a smaller smile on his face, “I still do,” You felt something twitch in your chest. Something old and unknown to your mind yet familiar to your soul, “And I know you don’t love me,” Alastor when on, “But I want to change that!” He rocked on his heels then snapped his finger. Suddenly he wasn’t a demon anymore. He was a human, a young man in casual attire, “If you’ll let me, that is, my dear. I want a chance at being in your life again. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy,”

He peered at you through his round glasses. A natural smile rested on his face. He held a hand out towards you. A part of you wanted to take his hand in yours and see what would happen. Another part tould you to run. He was still a demon. Weren’t they supposed to trick you with pretty words?

You shook that thought away because you knew Alastor loved you. The book showed you that he loved your soul more than anything in this world. When you looked up at Alastor’s face, you could even see a small flash of pleading in his eyes. You lifted your hand and barely graced your fingers on his.

As soon as your skin touched his, Alastor grabbed your hand quickly and pulled you to him. You were brought close to his embrace. Warmth radiated off his body and soon you were swept away into a magical place. Music started to play, you realized it came from Alastor.

Alastor was dressed in a dark deep crimson red suit and matching bowtie. His glasses were gone and you were dressed in matching a long and elegant dress, the same shade of red as Alastor’s suit. He hummed lowly then you watched him sing. His voice was staticky again as if he was singing on an old radio show, “Alooooone~.... At the edge of a universe humming a tuunnee..... For merely dreaming we were snow...Mhmmm..” He leaned in close and you felt something spark in your heart and travel to your cheeks. Alastor was face to face with you, only inches away, “A siren sooouunds!!! Like the goddess who promises endless apologies of paradise... And only she can make it riiight~” He gave you this look, still inching closer, he sucked in a breath and sang on “So things are different tonight!”

Pianos and music leaked from an unknown source, Alastor pulled you through a portal that you didn’t even see open and suddenly as an orchestra of music played you found yourself in a city you had never seen before, “We’ll go toogeetheerr... In flight!”

It was as if you were in a magical movie. Stars began to fly around you as you realized you were in a graveyard in a hot and muggy city. Alone. With Alastor. He sung away every problem and worry that came to your troubled mind. His voice was so hypnotic and beautiful. It was like you were under a spell as he grabbed your hand in his and began to dance with you. You watched little ghosts appear from behind gravestones that rose above the ground. Gaves were stacked into each other, with statues and cross decorating them. Little ghosts of all kinds fluttered around as little sparkly stars flustered to life.

“It's Now & Never!” He began to sing again, a smile on Alastor’s face, “A reverie endeavor... awaits somnambulant directives to take the helm!” Suddenly the two of you spun so quickly that everything faded into a blur, “Believe me, darling! !The stars were made for falling!” And like that all the little stars he made began to fall, “Like melting obelisks as tall as another realm~!”

You were still in the graveyard, mesmerized the galaxies that started to form out of seemingly nothing. Music still played and Alastor was dancing some kind of tango with you. A smile grew on your face, you couldn’t stop it. You didn’t know he could be so whimsical and magical. He even started to sing in French (or that’s what you thought) and you had no idea what he was saying but it made your heart race in your chest.

Suddenly he was singing in English again, “It feels like flying~!” You saw his demonic face flash for only a second, “But maybe we're dyyiiing~! A cosmic confluence of Pyramids hologrammed!! She knows you heard her, staging music murder in line before the show began to be where I am!”

The music changed it’s beat and once again Alastor was leading you through the graveyard. Trees grew all over, most of them were weeping willows. Fireflies began to come out of hiding and they were soon spinning into a swarm, obviously, it was Alastor’s doing. The fireflies shot up into the sky and blew up like fireworks. You could hear the voice of a woman softly singing in the background of the music as jingle bells chimed away. You could barely even understand what the voice was singing. Alastor’s voice drifted into the background but his mouth never opened beside the flash of a toothy grin here and there.

As the music slowed down, Alastor had brought you to a large weeping willow tree that protected a gazebo under its long viny branches. It sounded like you could hear the ocean but you knew it was just a trick.

Alastor quickly brought you close to him, close enough that your chests were touching, his arm snaked around your waist while the other held your hand up in the air. He started to waltz with you, looking down with dark brown eyes and a loving smile on his face, “You look quite divine tonight~!” The fireflies were back, flickering away as they spun around the both of you as you waltzed together, “Here among these vibrant lights! Pure delights surround us as we sail! Signed, yours truly, the whale! Joy mirage's kingdom come...No one left at stake~! Now that existence is on the wake, let's see what we can make!”

The two of you slowed down, only swaying now. You barely even forgot that Alastor wasn’t a human, he was a stranger to you. But the way it felt to have your hand in his was totally intoxicating. There was a wave of energy that flowed from him and straight into your heart.

Is this what love felt like? To have someone love you unconditionally and for all of eternity? You couldn’t tell and you weren’t sure if you were ready to know. You just couldn’t stop that little smile on your face as you looked up at him. Alastor was only humming a tune now while giving you the softest smile you had ever seen on his face.

You had no idea, but this was everything Alastor had been waiting for. A moment like this was priceless, it was almost like he had you back for real this time. He knew not to rush this though, he knew that he had to do this right if he was to ever get you to come back to him.

The fireflies started to fly away save for a few dozen that flickered away under the gazebo roof. Alastor’s body against yours was warm and beating with a pulse of life. His radio heart swelled with love and you could have sworn that he was more human than demon.

You looked up to him with questions in your eyes, “Where are we?” You finally asked.

Soft music was still playing, you could hear it coming from Alastor’s body. He hummed and gave you a little spin then brought you back to him, “New Orleans,” He said quietly as if this wasn’t freaking huge.

You gave him a look, a raised brow, “Didn’t you say you were from here?”

He nodded his head, “I’m actually buried a few rows over,” Why was he so casual about this?

You nearly shook your head as you took a double-take on what he said, “Wait.. like... your body?” He nodded his head again and that soft smile was still on his face, “Can... Can we see?”

The two of you were standing still now. Alastor let go of your hand only to snake his arm under yours, linking you together by the elbow, “Sure, I don’t see why not,” His voice was low and sounded like the purr of a cat... or demon.

You walked with him, still linked by the arm. This graveyard was so beautiful. It was filled with old statues with patches of moss and dirt scattered across them. It was dark and the sun had set but it’s enchanting colors still scattered across the sky. It made a painting of blues and pinks and purples. You could smell the heavy scent of roses drifting in the wind.

As you neared a tomb at the end of a road, Alastor slowly came to a stop. The headstone was destroyed on top of the grave liner, shattered and broken into rubble. It even looked like someone cracked open the concert vault and had stolen the bones inside. The second grave next to it was also broken apart and vandalized. You looked at him with worried eyes but he didn’t seem fazed.

“I-... I’m sorry,” You started to mumble.

Alastor quickly waved his free hand back and forth, ushering your to stop your worrying, “I’ve already killed the fools who desecrated mine and my mother’s graves. Worry not, my little doe, it’s what one gets for being a serial killer,”

You had almost forgotten about that. It was hard to imagine that Alastor was an infamous serial killer, cannibal and radio show host.

Lucky for you, google existed and you had done a little research on Alastor. You looked at him as you brought a finger to your chin, “It was.. La-...Lafloor?” You tried to remember what that damn google search said.

Alastor chuckled and suddenly his voice took this deep, southern creole accent, “Alastor Narcisse LaFleur,” It sounded like he was speaking a totally different language, but it was his name. He gazed down at you fondly, amused at your lack of understanding, “I was a radio show host most of my adult life while murdering 51 people in the course of seven years,” He spoke fondly of his life, a look of pride on his face, “However one day I got a tip from a dear old friend that my cover was blown. I ran from the police,” He started to chuckle, “They almost got me, but I got pretty far and POW!,” Then he pretended to shoot himself in the head with a smile, “I did it before they could.”

What a cruel and ironic way to go. Life had a funny sense of humor. You could not understand why you felt so bad for him. You reached out and dared to touch his arm, but you stopped just short. He had noticed your advancement and gave you a look, “Do not feel sorry for me, my dear, I’m already dead!” At least he made you chuckle, “Please, I’d love to leave this place and take you somewhere nice.”

The idea didn’t sound half bad, “Sure!” You wanted to see where this would go. You couldn’t stop craving the attention he gave you. Something wild and unknown to you called out to be by Alastor’s side and you gave into that call. Perhaps it had something to do with your soul, you guessed, maybe it was because your soul knew Alastor better than you did. That gut feeling you normally ignored grew larger and more apparent.

You were curious to see what Alastor had instore, you were still linked with him by the arm as the two of your quietly strode out of the graveyard. You couldn’t stop the smile that crawled into your face as you happily gave into the magic and wonder that was Alastor. What else could he possibly have in store? Well, you’d just have to wait and see~

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krizaland · 5 years ago

Note

You know what? I love that random pilot from the movie. So despite not knowing his name, I'm going to use my dumbass energy and ask if you've got any relationship hcs for him?

Ooh! I love him too! He was the only one with enough courage and braincells to try to talk some sense into the Tallest!

Note: The pilot doesn’t have an official name. So I named him Skad.

By some miracle, Skad had somehow managed to survive the Florpus. However, the Florpus had left him stranded on Urth!

Needless to say, Skad was petrified! Being on the same planet as Zim aside, Skad was trained a pilot not an Invader! He had no idea how to adapt to life on another planet!

Anxious and alone, Skad frantically searched for shelter. He desperately tried to avoid drawing attention to himself. He didn’t want to even think about what the inhabitants of this terrible planet would do to him if he got caught!

Just when he thought he had found the perfect shelter the door swung open.

“HOLY SHIT! AN ALIEN!”

All of the color drained from Skad’s face. He had been caught by one of the inhabitants! This was it! He was going to die deserted on a foreign planet!

Skad took a deep breath and decided to brace himself for his inevitable doom.

The moment he turned the face the source of the voice, Skad felt his PAK spark.

“Sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you!” You squeaked as you slowly put your hands in front of your face.

Skad tried to speak but all that came out was gibberish. Never had he seen such a beautiful creature! Your eyes twinkled with stardust! And your voice! What a lovely sound!

“Ah geez, you don’t speak English do you?” Your face fell a bit as you rubbed the back of your head.

Skad shook away his infatuation and cleared his throat.

“Fear not, Urthinod! I am perfectly capable of understanding and speaking your language!”

“Oh! Sorry for assuming!”

“It’s quite alright. I take it this planet doesn’t get many foreign visitors?” Skad laughed nervously as he tried to sound professional.

“Nope! I mean, people have claimed to have seen an alien but there’s never been any actual proof. Like, I know this really creepy paranormal guy who keeps claiming that one of my classmates is an alien.” You replied casually.

“Creepy paranormal guy?” Skad parroted as he tilted his head to the side.

“Yeah, I think his name is Dib or something. He goes to my skool and he’s always screaming about exposing aliens and dissecting them. But that’s not what makes him creepy though.” You groaned.

“I’m sorry, how is wanting to dissect aliens not creepy?!” Skad gasped as he hugged himself protectively.

“Oh wanting to dissect aliens are definitely creepy but trust me, that’s only the tip of the iceberg with that guy. Speaking of which, we should probably continue this back inside. If Dib finds out that there’s another real alien running around, it’s not gonna end well for you.” You explained as you gestured for Skad to follow you into your house.

Skad reluctantly agreed and followed you inside.

“Alright, we need to be quiet because my parents are sleeping.” You whispered as you crept through the halls.

“My, this home is much more… primitive then I was expecting.” Skad muttered as he observed his surroundings.

“Heh. I guess things are a bit more advanced where you’re from.” You giggled as you led Skad to your room.

“Well, I am from planet Irk. We have the finest technology in the universe.” Skad boasted.

“Really? That’s awesome.” You gently opened your bedroom door and motioned for Skad to enter.

“Indeed. It’s really a shame how behind most of the universe is.” Skad playfully shook his head.

“So what brought you to Urth anyway?” You asked as you pulled up your desk chair and gestured for him to sit.

“Um, Well…It’s quite a long story…” Skad murmured as he slowly sat down.

“It’s cool if you don’t want to talk about it.” You reassured as you plopped onto your bed.

“Oh no! It’s not that! It’s just a long story! I simply don’t want to waste your time with my babbling.” Skad explained as he straightened up a bit.

“You’re not wasting my time at all! I’ve actually always wanted to meet an alien! Tell me everything! As long as you’re comfortable with that, of course.” You gushed as you pressed your hands up against your cheeks.

“Well, since you insist…”

Skad took in a deep breath as he begun to explain everything. He told you all about his life as one of The Massive’s pilots. He couldn’t believe that you were actually listening to his entire story! Not only were you listening but you were even asking questions!

For the first time in his life, Skad felt respected. It was a glorious feeling! Skad never wanted the feeling to end! He went into more and more detail of his life and even bragged about a few of his slightly exaggerated achievements.

However, all good things must come to an end. Skad soon had no choice but to talk about the dreaded Florpus.

He felt a twinge of bitterness bubble up as he remembered how stubborn the Tallest were. Had they listened to him none of this would’ve happened!

“So, that’s how I ended up on your planet….” Skad sighed as he hung his head.

“Oh, Skad…”

“You needn’t pity me, Y/N is it?”

“That’s right.” You nodded.

“We Irkens are highly trained! My survival skills are the best in my class! I can assure you, I will be just fine. I’m certain I could just….um…” Skad trailed off as his mind searched for the right words to say.

“You could always stay here with me.”

‘Y/N, I mean no disrespect but I cannot stay on this foreign planet! Not without supplies anyway.” Skad huffed as he folded his arms.

“Ok, well how about you just stay until you can find some supplies?”

“Well… I guess I don’t really have a choice do I?” Skad sighed as he buried his face in his hands.

“Hey, it’s gonna be alright. I promise..” You reassured softly.

“How could you be so sure?”

“Because…. you’re amazing! I know you can get through anything!” You giggled.

“Wait…Do you really think I’m amazing?” Skad’s ruby eyes lit up.

“Of course I do! You managed to survive a deadly multiverse-destroying wormhole! How is that not amazing?!” You cheered as you pointed to the ceiling.

“Well, I’d consider it more lucky than amazing b-but I’m very flattered by your words, Y/N.” Skad stuttered as he rubbed the back of his head.

You let out a yawn and stretched out your arms.

“Alright, I’ve got Skool tomorrow, so I gotta get some sleep. We can talk more in the morning if you want.”

“Sleep? You humans still require that?” Skad blinked in surprise.

“Yeah- Wait, what do you mean still? Don’t Irkens sleep too?” You asked as you raised a brow.

“We Irkens haven’t required sleep for over thousands of years. Our PAKs are equipped with special charging cells that provide us with a constant stream of energy. Therefore, sleep is obsolete to us.” Skad explained as he gestured to his PAK.

“Oh damn! That’s crazy! So you guys don’t get tired? Like at all?!” You asked as your eyes widened a bit.

“Well that’s not entirely true…” Skad muttered as his antennas drooped a bit.

“Eh? I thought your PAKs provided a constant stream of energy or whatever?”

“W-Well it’s true that we Irkens don’t require sleep but we can still get tired if we get overworked. Or when we have to deal with frustrating individuals….” Skad’s voice tapered into a soft mutter as he spoke.

“What was that?”

“N-Nothing! P-Perhaps it would be best for you to get some sleep now! We can talk more in the morning!” Skad spluttered as he waved his hands in front of his face.

“Ok then…I guess I’ll get ready for bed.”

And with that, you dug out your favorite Pjs.

“Why are you pulling out different clothes? I fail to see what’s wrong with what you’re currently wearing/”

“Oh! Well, it’s not comfortable for me to sleep in what I’m wearing now, so I’m going to change into something that is comfortable to sleep in.” You explained as you gestured to your Pjs.

“Oh I see…..W-Wait what?!” Skad’s face flushed as his mind processed what you just said.

“Well you see, we humans don’t like to be uncomfortable when we sleep so-”

“Oh that part I’m fine with! It’s the…changing part that startled me!” Skad spluttered as a few beads of pink sweat dripped down his face.

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing at Skad’s reaction.

“W-What’s so funny?!”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just… I’m not gonna change in front of you! I’m gonna go to the bathroom to change.” You explained playfully.

“O-Oh right! Of course!” Skad let out a nervous chuckle.

And with that, you headed to the bathroom, changed into your Pjs and brushed your teeth.

While you brushed your teeth, Skad let out a dreamy sigh.

“That human sure is something….Perhaps staying here won’t be so bad after all.”

Skad rested his head in his hands as he let out a soft chirp.

ZAP!

Skad’s PAK sparked a bit.

Skad’s eyes widened in shock! That wasn’t supposed to happen.

Skad begun to panic! If anyone found out about his PAK sparking, he would no doubt be deactivated!

It was then Skad’s mind came to a realization:

Most of his people, including the Tallest, have no doubt been swallowed by the Florpus.

Therefore, no one else would even be alive, let alone be able to find out about his sparking PAK.

Skad let out a sigh of relief as he wiped away a few beads of sweat off his forehead.

“Alright! I’m back!”

The sound of your cheerful voice woke Skad from his thoughts.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” You giggled as you plopped onto your bed.

“No! No! You’re fine! I was just um… Well sleep well. Would you like me to shut the lights off?” Skad offered.

“Oh, don’t worry, I can take care of that-”

“Really, it wouldn’t be any trouble for me.” Skad insisted.

“Well if you insist.” You yawned as you begun to crawl into bed.

And with that, Skad turned off the lights as you got cozy in bed.

“Good night, Skad.” You whispered.

“Good Night, Y/N.” Skad replied as he watched you fall into a deep sleep.

Skad stifled a chirp as he watched you sleep.

Yup, he was definitely going to like his new life on Urth.

#invader zim #invader zim x reader #invader zim navigator #Anonymous

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doyelikehaggis · 5 years ago

Text

So, are you going to shoot me, or...?

(This is a rewrite of one of my earlier and first Olivarry fics, "Don't let speedsters play laser tag" because I'm already missing them too much.)

AO3

Laser beams zip past as Barry swiftly dodges each one, using his speed to his advantage. He can see every shot coming at him ten seconds before it happens as if in slow motion, able to find his safest path and take it in the blink of an eye.

He tucks himself behind a pillar and breathes out a laugh as a curse rings through the echoing room.

"You're an ass, you know that?" Cisco shouts. "I felt that damn breeze, Barry Allen—we agreed no speedster powers!"

"Does this mean I can use mine as well?" Wally asks.

"Yeah, me too," Jesse chimes in. "Laser Tag's almost...boring without them now."

Barry grins as Cisco scoffs, equal parts exasperated and frustrated.

"No, it's not boring. Not using your powers is the challenge—that's the fun part!" Cisco's argument seems to fall flat, and Barry peeks out from behind the pillar, still hearing footsteps despite the slight halt in the game. "You speedsters just need to relearn the definition of good ole' fashioned fun. Without cheating."

A laser beam shoots across the room with a loud zap. Cisco yelps and just barely dodges, incidentally backing closer to Barry's current hiding spot. He keeps himself out of view, readying himself to move if need be. Cisco's too busy cursing anyway to notice.

"Jesse—you're on my team!"

"Oh, didn't we tell you?" Barry catches sight of Thea, a grin similar to her brother's when he decides to lighten up every now and then, her laser gun held in one hand with a smug look on her face. "We swapped teams. Jesse and I are gonna take you down."

"You see what you've done, Barry?" Cisco shouts, waving his gun haphazardly. "You've started a rebellion! Now the kids are rioting and are gonna kill me! Thanks a lot!"

"Hey, you're the one who just tried to shoot me!" Barry points out.

He moves faster than Cisco can whip around. Lightning crackles behind him as he zips behind another pillar, further away from Cisco.

"Aha!" A shot of bright green goes flying at the spot he has just been in as soon as his connection fo the speed force ends. "Oh, you sneaky—I hate you! We are never playing Laser Tag again, you hear me?!"

Barry just laughs, and he's not the only one, catching a couple others in between lasers being fired. He slowly moves around to the other side of the pillar, keeping Cisco in his sights as he goes back to the game, gun up and at the ready. With Jesse and Thea on a team of their own, the plan of Team Flash versus Team Arrow seems to be off. Which means every person for themselves.

Another shot goes off. A shout goes up from Felicity, followed by cursing, then laughter. Barry quickly slides along to the next pillar as Cisco hurries off in the opposite direction, catching the barest glimpse of Caitlin sneaking past.

He grins, forming a new plan. If he can get to Caitlin first then it'll be easy to get her on his side. She's strangely good at dodging.

Before Barry can move, he picks up the sound of footsteps. Light, precise, moving with the intention of being as quiet as possible. Energy crackles around him, filling his head. His grin widens and he lets the lightning spark his veins and guide him.

In the blink of an eye, he moves, dodging the slow-motion sneak attack. The speed force sizzles away and Barry has Oliver pinned to the pillar, the barrel of his laser gun poking into his vest. Oliver's is turned around, now pointing the completely opposite direction.

"What the—" Oliver's brow furrows as he's yanked back into reality, but as Barry grins at him, the dots quickly connect. His jaw clenches and he looks a little bit murderous with a small smile at the corners of his mouth. "Okay. Probably had that coming for trying to sneak up on you."

"Definitely did," Barry agrees, keeping his voice down, and okay, maybe he feels a little smug about getting the upper hand on him for once.

Oliver hums, nodding slowly. His eyes dart down to the laser gun pressed into his chest.

"So, are you going to shoot me, or...?" He looks back up at him with questioning eyes.

Barry considers it, weighing his options. It doesn't seem to impress Oliver, that's for sure. His lips part in a grin again and he shakes his head, even as he presses the gun a little harder into his vest.

Oliver's eyes flicker, staring into his own too intensely, too guarded, too fixed on one spot.

"No, I think I'd rather team up," Barry says. "We're usually pretty good together, right?"

Oliver huffs out a soft noise of amusement now. "I think teaming up to take down murderers and metahumans is a little different from laser tag, isn't it?"

"Both require good aim, which you have, fast speed, which I have, and us working together." He raises his eyebrows at him. "So?"

"You know I could easily have shot you already," Oliver says. "Your little trick with my gun was pointless. And we're still on opposing teams."

"Then why haven't you done it yet?" Barry asks, tilting his head, his grin widening again.

Oliver hesitates. Falters, seems at a loss for an answer. Except that something is still flickering in his eyes, telling Barry otherwise, and his eyes are so fixed on his. Until they're not, and they move the tiniest bit, just a couple inches down.

He makes a noise as if clearing his throat and chuckling quietly at the same time, and averts his eyes entirely.

Barry stares. It's so rare to see Oliver caught like this. Flustered. Nervous, almost. He's aware that maybe he's a little closer than necessary, and Oliver's always had a thing about personal space. He learned that through too many attempts to hug him.

But he doesn't seem annoyed, and he still hasn't turned his laser gun on him.

"I'm...weighing my options," Oliver says in the least convincing tone. "You made a good point about us being a good team."

"I actually said we're good together," Barry quickly corrects, shrugging.

"Do you want me to shoot you?" Oliver quips back.

There's something else that Barry thinks he would rather he did. Maybe pinning him wasn't the smartest idea on his part. Now he's too close and he can't move without it looking like a retreat, and he doesn't want to lose this game.

His eyes dart down to Oliver's gun, then his own. He tries to look back up at him but his mouth is in his line of sight before Oliver's eyes are, and he's definitely too close.

"Barry?" Oliver's voice is still quiet to avoid being caught by any other opposing teammates.

"Yeah," Barry responds without really thinking about it, then quickly looks back up to meet his gaze, his eyes widening. "I mean...no?"

Oliver doesn't seem to pay much attention to his answer aside from the flicker of amusement that flashes in his eyes, clearer than the rest of his emotions. Aside from his obvious scrutinizing. Searching for something without asking a question. At least Barry doesn't think there was a question.

It feels like there are little hands in his brain, poking, prodding, like they're trying to literally push him. He can't. The little hands have a little voice and they're certainly persistent when paired together, but he can't.

Just because it's been in his head every time he sees Oliver, which seems to be a lot more often lately, doesn't mean he has to do anything about it. Just because Oliver's looking at him the way he is, and is very close with no protests for once, and because his own heart is starting to beat a little faster—

"Feel free to shoot me if I'm being an idiot," he blurts before he can think, because he is most certainly an idiot.

He just barely catches a tiny crease appearing between Oliver's eyebrows, confused. Barry's already leaning in, and he doesn't see Oliver's expression when he kisses him.

He feels him go stiff, tensing up completely at Barry's lips pressing carefully against his own.

This is a terrible idea, this is a terrible idea, this is a terrible idea. He likes Felicity, doesn't he? He's straight. He's Oliver Queen.

Barry's admittedly a little slow to pull back. He presses his lips together when he does. His thoughts are a strung-together mess of oh god, and why would you do that, and he's a professionally trained assassin, who just surprise kisses one of their closest friends who just so happens to also be a freaking professionally trained assassin?

"Barry?" Oliver asks again, but much more softly, his voice strange, unusual.

His eyes open just as slowly as he pulled back, staring at first at the tip of his laser gun still against Oliver's chest, then flicking up to meet Oliver's gaze. First thing he notices is that he doesn't look angry in the slightest.

His eyes are a little wider than usual, and he's just watching him with this look on his face. He thinks it might be one in a very small handful of times he's seen him without some sort of guard up.

"So," Barry swallows, raising his eyebrow as he jokingly asks, "are you going to shoot me, or...?"

There's a twitch at the corner of Oliver's mouth.

"No," he says, and shakes his head. "I'm not. And you're not an idiot."

Barry's about to breathe out in relief, but Oliver's already leaning his head forward with a slight angle and capturing his lips in a kiss.

He's the one to tense up this time from the shock of it. Not being mad and wanting to kiss him are two very different things. It only lasts for the briefest of moments before he's kissing him back, pressing forward, mouth moving with his.

His heart is racing in his ears, too fast, too erratic, verging on vibrating right out of his chest. He can feel the rest of his cells trying to follow suit, too, exciting themselves way too much for just one kiss.

Except it's Oliver, and he's had a crush on the guy since the day he met him. Maybe even before that in all honesty. Oliver's kissing him like it's something he's been holding back on for too long.

Just the thought makes Barry press harder, try and lean closer only to remember the gun between them, then try to move it so he can—

The sound of a laser being fired bounces off the walls and breaks them apart with a start. Extra-quick reflexes accidentally pull the trigger for him and a laser shoots just two inches to the left of Oliver's vest, hitting the pillar with a dull zyoom sound.

Barry's eyes still widen all the same as shouts go up right after, and he lifts his gaze to meet Oliver's equally as wide eyes.

"Move," he whispers, then hisses, "now!"

Barry hurries to do so as footsteps quickly approach their now revealed location. He flashes himself and Oliver away from the pillar and right across the room just as another laser goes off, missing them by a hairbreadth as they come to a stop behind one of the cardboard shields, blocking them from sight.

"I will catch you, Barry Allen!" Cisco shouts. "If it's the last thing I do!"

"I swear, Oliver, you're like a freaking ninja!" Diggle's voice follows, that same edge of frustration to it.

Barry looks over at Oliver, both of them grinning. He shrugs.

"What do you say?" he asks quietly. "Us against them?"

Oliver nods without even a moment's hesitation, holding his gun up. "Let's do it."

#olivarry #oliver queen #barry allen #the flash #arrow #barry x oliver #fanfiction stuff

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shawtygonemad · 4 years ago

Text

What Is This Feeling: Chapter 8

Fem!9th Doctor x Male!Rose Tyler

WITF Masterlist

The Doctor was in and out of consciousness. That laser almost hurt as bad as regenerating. She stayed silent. She didn't want to say anything that would make Van Statten blast her again. Suddenly a voice came over the intercom.

"Condition Red! Condition Red! I repeat, this is not a drill."

The Doctor lifted her head and made eye contact with Van Statten. Her voice was hoarse, but dead serious.

"Release me if you want to live."

He quickly followed her command and released the Time Lord. She had never gotten dressed that quickly in her life. Then again the entire world depended on it. Within minutes they were in Van Statten's office observing the cage from a flat screen on the wall. Ross was on said screen talking with them. The Doctor honestly couldn't be surprised.

"You've got to keep it in that cell," she told them.

"Doctor, it's all my fault," Ross spoke apologetically.

"I've sealed the compartment. It can't get out, that lock's got a billion combinations," the guard said.

"A Dalek's a genius. It can calculate a thousand billion combinations in one second flat."

The Doctor looked on as she was just proven right. The metal door slowly opened, and released the Dalek. The guard's started to do an open fire. Don't they know it won't work?!

"Ross, get out of there!" She commanded her companion.

Ross, the other girl, and the female guard managed to escape. The Dalek, however, was rolling itself towards the camera. Thus getting closer to the screen. It extended its plunger and broke the connection.

"We're losing power," Goddard gathered around the computer screen with Van Statten and the Doctor. "It's draining the base. Oh, my god. It's draining entire power supplies for the whole of Utah."

The trio was analyzing a holographic map of the United States. Utah blackened.

"It's downloading," the Doctor informed them.

"Downloading what?" Van Statten asked.

The whole West Coast blackened on the map.

"Sir, the entire West Coast has gone down," Goddard updated.

"It's not just energy. That Dalek just absorbed the entire internet. It knows everything," the Doctor stated.

Goddard started to pound away on the computer. "The cameras in the vault are down."

"We've only got emergency power. It's eaten everything else. You've got to kill it now!" The Doctor yelled.

Goddard spoke over the intercom. "All guards to converge in the Metaltron cage, immediately."

The three no longer had visual, but they still had audio. This was just as bad. They grimly heard the guards die one by one. They were soon all dead, and Van Statten couldn't care less. All he cared about was the stupid Dalek.

"This museum of yours, have you got any alien weapons," the Doctor asked.

"Lots of them, but the trouble is the Dalek's between us and them," Goddard explained.

"We've got to keep that thing alive. We could just seal the entire vault, trap it down there," Van Statten suggested.

"Leaving everyone trapped with it. Ross is down there. I won't let that happen. Have you got that?" She stared at the man with fire in her eyes. She then turned back to Goddard. "It's got to go through this area. What's that?" She pointed to an area on the screen.

"Weapon's testing."

"Give a gun to the technicians, the lawyers, anyone. Everyone. Only have one chance of killing it," she informed the assistant.

The Doctor sat down at the computer and began to attempt to get one of the screens to show visuals. After a few minutes the screen showed the loading bay. She practically whooped at her accomplishment.

"I thought you were a great expert, Doctor. If you're so impressive, then why not just reason with the Dalek? It must be willing to negotiate. There must be something it needs. Everything needs something," Van Statten question.

"What's the nearest town," the Doctor asked.

"Salt Lake City."

"Population?"

"One million."

"All dead. If the Dalek gets out, it'll murder every living creature. That's all it needs," the Doctor tried to explain to the stupid ape for what seemed like the thousandth time. He's turned out to be quite dense.

"But why would it do that?"

"Because it honestly believes they should die. Human beings are different, and anything different is wrong. It's the ultimate in racial cleansing, and you, Van Statten, you've let it loose! The Dalek's surrounded by a force field. The bullets are melting before they even hit home, but it's not indestructible," she tried to explain.

She turned from Van Statten and spoke to the screen. "If you concentrate your fire, you might get through. Aim for the dome, the head, the eyepiece. That's the weak spot," she told him.

Moments of anticipation passed. Soon Ross and the girl came running in, making most of them jump. They soon fled the battle area once again. It wasn't long after that the Dalek appeared.

The guards held open fire against the Dalek. None of the bullets affected it. The Dalek rose in the air and zapped the fire alarm. Water started to rain down from the sprinklers. Once the ground and metal beams were nice and wet, the Dalek zapped them. This caused the guards to all get electrocuted, and die.

The trio all stared at the screen in fallen silence. It didn't take long for Van Statten to start making an escape plan for himself. However, this needed to end. Now.

"You said we could seal the vault?" The Time Lord asked.

"It was designed to be a bunker in an event of a nuclear war. Steel bulkheads," the American confirmed.

"There's not enough power. Those bulkheads are massive," Goddard added.

"We've got emergency power. We can re-route that to the bulkhead doors," the Doctor told her.

"We'd have to bypass the security codes. That would take a computer genius."

"Good thing you've got me, then," Van Statten spoke as he sat down in front of the computer.

"You want to help," the Doctor was truly surprised at this.

"I don't want to die, Doctor. Simple as that. And nobody knows this software better than me."

Just then the large screen lit up with an image of the Dalek still in the rain.

"I shall speak on-ly to the doc-tor," it demanded.

"You're going to get rusty," the Doctor commented.

"I fed off the D-N-A of Ross Ty-ler. Ex-tra-po-la-ting the bi-o-mass of a time tra-ve-ler re-gen-er-at-ed me," it told the Doctor.

Her face was deadpan as she spoke, "What's your next trick?"

"I have been sear-ching for the Da-leks."

"Yeah, I saw. Downloading the internet. What did you find?"

"I scanned your sa-tell-ites and ra-di-o tel-e-scopes," it told the Doctor.

"And?"

"No-thing. Where should I get my or-ders now," it asked, almost sounding lost.

"All right, then. If you want orders, follow this one. Kill yourself," she told it honestly.

"Daleks must survive!" It shot back.

The Doctor could no longer take it. This foul creature was the reason she was forced to blow up her home planet, causing genocide for both races.

"The Daleks have failed! Why don't you just finish the job and make the Dalek's extinct. Rid the universe of your filth. Why don't you just die?!" She practically screamed at the creature.

There was a short pause before the machine spoke again. "You would make a good Da-lek."

Then the screen went to black. The Doctor's stomach dropped at the words. Her eyes were slightly widened as she stared at the black screen.

"Seal the vaults," she ordered quickly.

"Doctor, he's still down there," Goddard reminded the Doctor.

She quickly put a headset on, and called the number she knew by heart.

"This isn't the best time," Ross answered.

"Where are you," she asked.

"Level forty nine," he responded.

"You've got to keep moving. The vault's being sealed off at level forty six," she informed him.

"Can't you stop them closing?"

"I'm the one closing them. I can't wait, and I can't help you. Now for God's sake, Run!"

"Done it. We've got power to the bulkheads," Van Statten reported. Good news!

"The Dalek's right behind them," Goddard also reported in. Bad news!

"We're nearly there! Give us two seconds," Ross told the Doctor.

"Doctor, I can't sustain the power. The whole system is failing. Doctor, you've got to close the bulkheads," Van Statten said.

The Doctor was then left with an incredibly hard decision. Save her human, or let the entire human race get destroyed. No matter how much she wanted to wait for Ross. One race was already wiped out because of her. She was not going to let it happen a second time.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly as she hit the enter key, lowering the bulkheads.

Moments later, Van Statten spoke up.

"The vault is sealed."

The Doctor leapt up from her chair anxiously.

"Ross, where are you? Ross, did you make it?"

"Sorry, I was a bit slow," he sadly responded.

Her hearts stopped. Ross didn't make it. He was trapped out there because of her. Now the Dalek's going to catch up with him and she can't do anything.

"See you, then, Doctor."

'Oh God, he's saying his goodbyes!'

"It wasn't your fault. Remember that, okay? It wasn't your fault. And you know what? I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

In the background she could hear the Dalek's 'Exterminate', and the zap of its laser.

"I killed him," she said softly.

"I'm sorry," Van Statten apologized.

"I said I'd protect him. He was only here because of me, and you're sorry? I could've killed that Dalek in its cell, but you stopped me," she turned her self-hatred onto Van Statten.

"It was the prize of my collection!"

"YOUR COLLECTION!? But was it worth it? Worth all of those men's deaths? Worth Ross? Let me tell you something, Van Statten. Mankind goes into space to explore, to be part of something greater."

"Exactly! I wanted to touch the stars," he exclaimed.

"You just want to drag the stars down and stick them underground, underneath tons of sand and dirt, and label them. You're about as far from the stars as you can get," she paused in realization.

"And you took him down with you. He was nineteen years old."

Adele suddenly entered the office. The Doctor was quickly in her face, ready to release some more anger.

"You were quick on your feet, leaving Ross behind," she spat out.

"I'm not the one who sealed the vault," she yelled back.

The screen lit up with an image of the Dalek and a very much alive Ross.

"Op-en the bulk-heads or Ross Ty-ler dies," it demanded.

"You're alive!" The Doctor exclaimed excitedly. Oh was she so relieved.

"Can't get rid of me," he gave a small smile.

"I thought you were dead," the Doctor, almost tearfully, said.

"Op-en the bulk-head," the Dalek demanded once more.

"Don't do it," Ross yelled, attempting to be brave.

"What use are e-mo-tions if you will not save the man you love?" It asked.

It felt like time had slowed down.

'Love. Is that was this is? This confusing feeling I have for this pink and yellow human?'

No. It can't be love. How could a Gallifreyan possibly be in love with a human? They were two separate races! No. It just wouldn't work.

'Oh, my god. I'm falling in love with Ross Tyler,' she thought, horrified.

After her sudden epiphany, she looked at Van Statten.

"I killed him once. I can't do it again," she told him as she pressed the enter key once more.

The bulkhead opened. Ross and the Dalek made their way through.

"What do we do now, you bleeding heart! What the hell do we do," Van Statten yelled.

"Kill it when it gets here," Adele suggested.

"All the guns are useless, and the alien weapons are in the vault," Goddard stated, stressing out.

"Only the catalogued ones," Adele blurted.

Van Statten didn't look pleased. The Doctor shoved her towards the exit door.

"Lead me," she demanded.

Adele quickly took the Doctor down to her workshop. Once inside she showed the Time Lord the weapons. The Doctor went through the bin, tossing the useless items.

"Broken. Broken. Hairdryer."

"Mister Van Statten tends to dispose of his staff, and when he does he wipes their memory. I kept this stuff in case I needed to fight my way out one day," Adele explained.

"What, you in a fight," the Doctor scoffed. "I'd like to see that."

"I could do," she protested.

"What're you going to do? Throw your A-levels at 'em?" The Doctor grinned as she picked up a useful, and deadly, giant weapon. "Oh, yes. Lock and load."

Without second thought, the Doctor bolted out of Adele's workshop, and up the stairs. She was going to finally kill this thing and save the Earth. No, forget the Earth. She was going to save Ross.

Once the Doctor made it to level one she sprinted down the corridor. She stopped once she saw Ross with the Dalek. She didn't allow herself time to take in the situation. All she could feel was the adrenaline pumping in her veins, and the fury of her dead people. It was going to end, now! She held up the large gun, and aimed it at the Dalek

"Get out of the way." Ross just turned and stared at her. "Ross, get out of the way!"

"No. I won't let you do this," he protested.

"That thing killed hundreds of people," she said.

"It's not the one pointing the gun at me."

"I've got to do this. I've got to end it. The Daleks destroyed my home, my people. I've got nothing left."

"Look at it," he gestured to the squid-like creature inside the metal armor.

"What's it doing," she asked.

"It's the sunlight, that's all it wants."

"But it can't-"

"It couldn't kill Van Statten, it couldn't kill me. It's changing. What about you, Doctor? What the hell are you changing into," Ross asked.

Finally realizing what was going on, the Doctor lowered her gun.

"I couldn't- I wasn't- Oh, Ross. They're all dead," she said sadly.

"Why do we sur-vive," Dalek asked.

"I don't know," the Doctor frowned.

"I am the last of the Da-leks," it stated.

"You're not even that. Ross did more than regenerate you. You've absorbed his DNA. You're mutating."

"In-to what," it asked.

"Something new. I'm sorry," and she was.

"Isn't new better?" Ross asked.

` "Not for a Dalek," she replied.

"I can feel so ma-ny i-de-as," it spoke. "So much dark-ness. Ross, give me or-ders. Or-der me to die."

"I can't do that," Ross said quietly.

"This is not life. This is sick-ness. I shall not be like you. Or-der my des-tru-ction! O-bey! O-bey! O-bey!"

After a moment, Ross finally spoke up.

"Do it."

"Are you fright-ened, Ross Ty-ler?"

"Yeah," he answered.

"So am I… Ex-ter-min-ate."

Ross began to retreat to the Doctor's side, and out of harm's way. The Dalek closed up its armor, and began to hover. The balls on the Dalek detached themselves and surrounded it. The balls also formed a force field around it. The Dalek then imploded on itself. The Doctor nor Ross was harmed.

Once it was all over the Doctor dropped her gun. The pair instantly embraced one another and wouldn't let go. After a few moments the Doctor found her voice.

"I'm so sorry, Ross. For everything," she apologized.

"It's alright. You were upset," Ross soothed the alien. They pulled apart and Ross looked at the Doctor. "Tell me about it. The Time War."

So on their way back to the TARDIS, she told the tale of the Time War. Ross took all of the details surprisingly well. He seemed to understand.

Once back in the museum, the Doctor ran a hand over the TARDIS door.

"A little piece of home. Better than nothing," she said.

"Is that the end of it, the Time War?"

"I'm the only one left. I win. How about that," she gave a sad smile.

"The Dalek survived. Maybe some of your people did too," Ross suggested.

"I'd know. In here," she pointed to her head. "Feels like there's no one."

"Well then, good thing I'm not going anywhere," he grinned at her.

"Yeah," she smiled back.

The moment was short lived as Adele appeared with her bag in hand.

"We'd better get out. Van Statten's disappeared. They're closing down the base. Goddard says they're going to fill it full of cement, like it never existed."

"About time," Ross commented.

"I'll have to go back home," Adele said sadly.

"Better hurry up. Next flight to Heathrow leaves at fifteen hundred hours," the Doctor informed her.

"Adele was saying that all her life she wanted to see the stars," Ross said while giving the puppy dog eyes to the Doctor.

'Oh no! Not gonna happen.'

"Tell her to go and stand outside, then."

"She's all on her own, Doctor, and she did help."

"She left you down there," the Doctor accused.

"So did you." This shut her up.

"What are you talking about? We've got to leave," Adele asked confused.

"Plus, she's a bit pretty," the Doctor added.

"I hadn't noticed," he replied.

"On your head," she said regretfully as she unlocked the TARDIS and stepped in.

She walked over to the console and prepared for takeoff.

"What are you doing? She said cement. She wasn't joking. We're going to get sealed in. Doctor? What're you doing standing inside a box? Ross?"

"Oh, get in," the Doctor snapped.

This was going to be a long trip.

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