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danyka-fendyr · 5 years ago

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The Big Bad BAU

Hey yo waddup it’s me your girl and a couple of you beautiful people wanted to see a Spencer Reid Fairytale AU and BOY do I have great news for you because this is it. I’m going to stop talking now because you did not come here to listen to me ramble. Enjoy! Or don’t no happiness under duress in my good Christian household.

Warnings: Well this is the BAU so cannibalism and definitely some strong overtones of creepiness

Wordcount: 1820

Taglist: @thisiscalm-andits-doctor

Permanent Taglist: @rhabakoli @dreamwritesimagines

The coat that hung around your shoulders was bright as blood. You kept catching glimpses of the hood dangling down into your face, and every now and then it frightened you, convinced you that you saw something out of the corner of your eye. It was just your imagination though.

You kept trudging along the trail, frozen puffs of your breath drifting up to the sky as your boots tracked a path through the mud. Your car had broken down on the side of the road about half a mile ago, but you were in the middle of nowhere and only about a mile from your Grandma’s, so you figured you might as well just walk it like you had so many times as a kid exploring the forest.

You heaved your basket up again. This walk would be so much easier if you’d decided that it wouldn’t be super cute to bring the meal you’d made in a picnic basket. You were about to just drop this thing and leave it for Yogi, but you were almost there. You just had to get over the river, and then you would be able to see your Grandmother’s cabin. Why she insisted on wintering here, in a cabin of all places, was beyond you, but it made her happy.

You heard a twig snap and whirled around, looking for the source of the noise. You were pretty sure you’d heard on the radio on the way here that there was some kind of nutter on the lose. But wasn’t there always? It was probably a deer. Probably.

But then again, maybe not.

“Now, miss, what are you doing all the way out here?”

The voice was a low growl that nearly made you jump out of your skin. Definitely not a deer.

“I’m sorry, sir, do I know you?”

You aren’t sure why that, of all things, was the first thing you said. I mean, truly, what kind of idiot were you? Hello strange man in the woods, what is your name and would you like to sit down for a cup of tea so we can trade amusing childhood anecdotes?

“Well since you don’t exactly look like you’re from around these parts, I doubt it. Name’s Nathaniel Wolffe.”

“Pleasure to meet you Mr. Wolffe. To answer your question, I am walking.” You picked up your pace as you said it, getting over your momentary shock at the company. “I have an appointment to keep.”

“In the middle of the woods?” Of course, the creep doubted you.

“Yes. I’m going to see my grandmother. Hence the picnic basket.” He hadn’t stopped walking by you, and he was giving you really bad vibes.

“Your granny lives all the way out here?” He smiled, but it looked wrong.

“Yes. Do you have a problem with that?”

“Oh, none. None at all. I’m sure your meal will be delicious. I hope you have a great day, miss...?”

You ignored his silent request for your name and just kept power walking through the forest.

“You sure you know where you’re going?” He called after you. “Wouldn’t want you to get lost!”

“Just over the river and straight ahead!”

And with that, you continued on to grandmother’s house.

“Alright, so we know that our unsub likes preying on his victims in remote locations,” JJ said, staring at the board with her hands on her hips.

“I mean, it makes sense. If you were going to cut someone to pieces and then eat them you would probably want a certain amount of privacy for that,” Morgan pointed out.

“But he also likes to attack in homes. This is cabin country, and our unsub’s got cabin fever. That’s three different victims, all with cabins out in the woods here,” JJ said.

“Yes, but what doesn’t make sense is his targeting of the elderly.” Reid’s hands gestured wildly as he tried to make his point. “Logically speaking, if you were going to eat someone you would want someone younger. The elderly would be old, tough meat.”

“Yeah, but it’s easy prey. All of these cabins out here are owned by retired senior citizens” Rossi said.

“But not every one of these cabins can be inhabited by an elderly citizen.” Hotch finally spoke up.

Morgan asked the question on all of their minds. “So...what happens when he finds a young person?”

The rest of your treck to your grandmother’s cabin was uneventful, and you breathed a sigh of relief when you finally got there. But...the door was ajar. That wasn’t right.

With bated breath, you pushed open the door a little further, wincing at the creak it made. “Grandma?”

There was no reply, so you headed further into the house. Because what could go wrong with that?

“Grandma?”

It all happened so fast. One moment you were taking a careful step further into the house, the next you were unconscious without so much as a chance to see your attacker.

When you came to, your head hurt pretty badly. It was hard to see, everything still a little blurry. Until it came into horrible focus.

Your grandmother was sat across from you, tied to a chair and still unconscious. You were gagged and tied to your own chair, panic quickly finding its way into your heart. Then he came back. The same guy from the woods, the one who had given you bad vibes. Very accurate bad vibes, as fate would have it.

He chuckled low, under his breath. “You know, when I first found you in the woods I was tempted, but then...Then you presented this golden opportunity. Not just you, but your grandmother as well. I’ll have her first, of course. Have to eat your vegetables before dessert.”

Oh gosh. He was talking about eating you. You were going to vomit.

He gave you a feral grin, raising the knife in his hand to your cheek and gently stroking the cool metal across the skin.

“My, what big eyes you have. Are you scared?” He seemed pleased by the idea.

You thought you heard a noise in the back, and you turned your head. The walls of the cabin were no longer comfortingly familiar. Now, they seemed like just another part of the trap. You tried to scream, hoping to make enough noise through the gag to alert whatever hunter might be out there.

“And what big ears you have too,” he growled. “Unfortunately for you, there’s nothing out there but the wild animals.”

You tried so hard to make any kind of noise in blind hope.

“Scream all you want, there’s no one to hear you. In fact...” He ripped the gag off, staring at you in a way that made your skin crawl. “My, my, what a pretty mouth you have.”

When you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, someone burst into the room. Multiple someones, actually.

“FBI! Drop the knife and step away from the girl!”

Despite your situation, you couldn’t help but notice that the man speaking was very attractive. If it were any other time, you might have hit on him. But now was really not the time. You were a little preoccupied with the fact that this dude was definitely trying to murder you.

“Please help me!”

“We will.” His brown eyes flashed, jaw working in his determination.

He seemed to be the one in charge, the tall, fit man behind him following his lead for now. You watched as his eyes darted around the room, taking in the situation. You could see the gears turning in his head if you looked close enough.

“I don’t see any reason why I should step away from her,” Wolffe said. “It would take a whole lot to get me to abandon such a pretty young lady.”

“Nathaniel, you don’t have to do this,” the brunet said.

“Oh come on. You know as well as I do that she’s no better than chattel.”

“You know that’s not true Nathaniel.” He looked at you. “I’m Spencer. What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you Y/N.” He smiled, and it almost made you forget your imminent demise.

“N-nice to meet you too.”

You weren’t sure what this was, but you had faith that he was going to get you out of this alive. He seemed like he knew what he was doing. Not that you had another option if he didn’t.

“I don’t want to know her name,” Wolffe snarled.

“Why? Does it make you uncomfortable that she has one? That these are people you’ve been killing, Nathaniel? Does it remind you of-”

With a roar, Wolffe charged at Spencer. Several things happened all at once. You screamed, the man behind Spencer fired his gun, and Spencer got the heck out of the way.

Wolffe hit the floor, and you couldn’t help your cry of relief. Immediately, Spencer was there by your side helping to untie you as the other agent attended to your grandmother who was regaining consciousness. You fell forward and he caught you, his grip surprisingly sturdy for someone with admittedly a bit of a beanpole figure.

“Thank you.” You couldn’t take your eyes off of Wolffe’s body on the floor, liquid the same color as your crimson coat pooling around him.

“I’ve got you. You’re safe,” he said, his voice quiet and calming.

He stayed with you while the EMTs checked you out, which you were grateful for. He didn’t seem to find it odd, your attachment to him that you were trying desperately to hide. Logically you knew the feelings were probably just because he saved your life, but it didn’t help that he was kind of cute too.

While the EMTs checked you out, he talked to you, helping keep you calm. You two ended up having a whole conversation, talking about his job and your lives, everything from how you liked your eggs in the morning to how to avoid this ever happening again. He was a fascinating man, and the more you talked to him the more you wanted to know about him. It seemed like there wasn’t anything he didn’t know.

“Thank you so much, Spencer. It really means a lot to me,” you said as they were finishing up.

“I’m glad I was able to help you. And hey, if you uh...ever need to talk or anything, you can just call this number.” He pulled a business card out of his pocket. “Just in case you ever need help again.”

You smiled. “What if I need help drinking coffee?”

He laughed a little bit. “Trust me, if there’s one thing they train us how to do in the BAU, it’s drinking coffee.”

“Lots of late nights?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Well, then I guess we have a date, Spencer.”

“I...guess we do.”

His pleased smile was the last thing you saw before you had to go.

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #cm #criminal minds:ff #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg #mgg x reader

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thewritewolf · 5 years ago

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Nino’s Quest Chapter 6: Out of the Woods

The true struggle of DnD - getting the party together for a session. Not at all helped by magic terrorism attacks.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 (Final)

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3. My ko-fi.

--- October 15th ---

Lord DM: Hey dudes, we still on for today? Since its been like two hours I’ll guess that was a no then

Adrien Regreste: sorry dude. Got roped into a last minute photoshoot :(

Marinoodles: same Wait no I mean- last minute bakery stuff Sorry to bail like this! D:

Alya’ll Beware: Don’t worry about it girl I was chasing that akuma that was running around It kept giving lb n cn the slip Got some good footage tho

Lord DM: Bummer dudes Guess thats one of the perks of living in paris We can try again next week, k?

--- October 18 ---

Direct Message From Alya

Alya: These akumas have been crazy, babe. Rain check on dates? At least until hawkbutt tires himself out

Nino: :( Can’t you take a break or two? You don’t have to be on the frontlines of EVERY akuma attack

Alya: …

Nino: [crying emojis, broken hearts, butterflies with red X’s over them]

Alya: alright, alright But just two, okay? People count on me for the latest news

Nino: totally, babe Just hope lb+cn won’t need rr+cara Cuz… you know That’d be rough

Alya: [eye rolling emoji] Yeah yeah I feel bad for them tho Their social life must be wack at this point

---October 22nd---

Lord DM: Hey, bro, we still meeting at your place or what? ??? Come on, dude! Not again! :(

Adrien Regreste: Sorry dude [sobbing emoji]

Alya’ll Beware: Akuma, babe. Can’t miss three in one week!

Lord DM: Yeah… guess so. Let’s just not miss the next sess, okay? I dont want this campaign to end

Alya’ll Beware: We’ve only missed two weeks so far. That’s not too bad We got pretty lucky with getting five in a row Esp considering how busy we usually are

Lord DM: Fair enough Next week sound good?

Alya’ll Beware: Should for me

---October 31st---

Lord DM: Im scared to ask but… DnD today?

Adrien Regreste: [thumbs up] I’ll be going on 4 hours of sleep But I can do it!

Marinoodles: Same here Lack of sleep and all

Alya’ll Beware: Yeah We good

Adrien Regreste: !!! Wait its actually happening Awesome! ...I should probably clean my room.

Marinoodles: XD Probably! :P

Adrien Regreste: :3

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

An hour later and Nino had made the trip over to Adrien’s house, Alya and Marinette in tow. Their chatting had been less energetic than usual, no doubt because there wasn’t a single person among them who didn’t feel exhausted. A fact that wasn’t at all helped by the late hours that they were arriving at. It may have only been nineteen hundred hours, but when you’d only had a few hours of sleep each night for the past week, it made all the difference in the world.

Despite all that, they were determined. The very thought that they were willing to go through all this just to go further in his campaign was thrilling for Nino, and he didn’t want to let them down.

A wicked grin, looking out of place on him, stretched across his face. With the events he had planned for tonight’s session, he was sure they’d be awake in no time.

They entered Adrien’s room and saw the bounty of sugary treats and caffeine that their host had prepared. After some brief chit-chat, Nino got set up quickly and rolled right into the session. The longer he delayed the more likely it was that his players would fall asleep.

“The forest at last thins as you crest the top of a hill. From your vantage point, you can see the capital city on the horizon.” There were sighs of relief around the room.

“Finally! My character could definitely go for a proper bed after a week of roughing it,” Marinette said after taking a drink of pop.

“You’ll have to hurry, then. The sun is going to start sinking below the horizon. Unless you want to be stuck outside the city until morning, you’d better get moving.”

“My bard starts one last travel song as we rush over.” Adrien opened his phone, no doubt to a lyrics site and cleared his throat.

Alya quickly covered his mouth. “I do not have the time or patience to listen to another of your renditions of Take Me Home, Country Roads, Sunshine. Let’s just get to the city, alright?” Adrien’s eyes darted to Nino in a silent plea, but he simply shrugged.

“Sorry, dude. Babe has a point.”

Pouting, he closed his phone. Beside him, Marinette giggled and patted his back consolingly.

“You reach the city gates without any issue - no bandit or monster is stupid enough to get within stones throw of the capital, not with all the guards on patrol. They were a little suspicious to see you guys so late at night, but… two noble sigils, a bardic license, and my holy symbol put those dudes right at ease. There are still a few rooms open at the inn - how are you guys going to divvy up?”

A trio of blank stares looked back at him. He sighed.

“Each room costs money to rent. You don’t have a lot, so while you could get a private room for each of you, it’s probably better to room with someone else. So who is spending the night with who?”

“Dibs on the cleric!” Alya cried. She tapped her chin theatrically, “I guess that leaves you two together, right?”

“I- I guess so?” Adrien blinked, surprised at Alya’s sudden outburst. Marinette paled a little but nodded.

“Since you guys arrived so late, most of the rooms were already filled up and you had to make do with what you can get. When you finally find your rooms, they are across the inn from each other… and there is only one bed in each room.”

A slight blush, but neither Adrien nor Marinette were freaked out. Alya slumped in defeat - there wasn’t any roleplaying involved in sleeping after all. Unless they decided to do some method acting and have a sleepover.

“The four of us drift off to sleep, which was a totally great change of pace from the creepy woods that you’ve been sleeping in for a week now.” Nino punctuated his words with a yawn that proved contagious. “It was way late at night when suddenly… M, Adrien. Roll for perception.”

Adrien, naturally, rolled a one. Just when Nino was scared he’d accidentally killed them off, Marinette pulled through with a high roll. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“With your keen elven hearing, the creaking of the wooden floor boards was enough to jolt you from sleep. There is a glint of metal above you, and you feel a presence in the darkness. You have just a few seconds to react - what do you do?”

“I roll over!” Marinette blurts out, her eyes wide.

Nino nods. “Right, that puts you right on top of Adrien, who is now totally awake too. It was a good move, though - a knife plunges into the mattress, right where your neck had just been.”

All business now, Marinette asks, “What can I see?”

“Not much. Loose cloaks with hoods pulled up. Knives. Two people. The other person has stumbled back, probs spooked by your sudden movement.”

She taps her chin before her eyes widen again. “Wait, what about the others?! We have to go get them! Or at least get their help.” She shuffles through her character sheet. “Okay, um… I whisper to Adrien in Elvish ‘close your eyes’ and then I toss a flash flare thing at the guy.”

Nino rolls some saves - without the warnings, neither of them stood a chance. He looks up to see Marinette watching him with hopeful eyes. “You got ‘em, M. Now what?”

“I roll off the bed and try to take the guy’s knife.”

“You’ve got it and your turn ends there. The dudes are blinded, but it won’t be long before they’ve recovered. Adrien?”

“Can I cast a spell?”

“Not without your lyre, bro.”

“Fine, fine. I grab it off the bedside table.”

“And why do you think it’d be there?”

“...I’m a bard. Gotta be ready to play, first thing in the morning.” Adrien smirked.

Chuckling, Nino replied. “Alright, fair. What do you cast?”

Adrien stuck out a tongue as he thumbed through his spell list. His eyes lit up as he looked at Nino. “I cast summon monster one, and I summon the Good Boy.”

“Right,” Nino said as the others giggled. “So you’ve got your celestial dog next to you. I figure you want it to attack one of the dudes?”

To his surprise, Adrien shook his head. “No, I command him to go wake up the other two. Probably to go sit by their door and bark in a commanding angelic voice.”

The fight didn’t last long from there - the two of them probably would have been enough to deal with the assassins after they lost the element of surprise. But four against two made it a landslide victory.

“Even though you try your hardest, you weren’t able to catch either alive. One got stabbed and bled out and the other, well… hopefully the innkeeper will understand that it wasn’t your fault that the window got broken.”

“Do they have anything on them?” Alya crossed her arms. “I get the feeling someone is after us.”

“You’re immediately proven right when you find a note in the dead guy’s pocket that reads, ‘Information about the Necromancer cannot reach the king. Dispose of the adventurers before they get their audience.’”

The party exchanged looks.

“Spooky,” Adrien said flatly. The others nodded in agreement.

“Do I recognize the handwriting or anything?” Marinette leaned forward, the gears in her head turning. “Remember, I am a court brat.”

“Nope. Looks like it was written deliberately poorly. You don’t know if you’d recognize it normally.”

“Time for the king?” Adrien perked up.

“Yup, it’s time for-” Nino was interrupted by a sharp knock at the door.

Adrien gulped. “Um… hello?”

Nathalie stepped into the room and narrowed her eyes at the dice and character sheets. Belatedly Nino remembered that Adrien usually claimed they were working on a project or homework during these sessions. “It is late. Your friends need to leave.”

Without a choice in the matter, they packed up and had the door shut behind them.

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

Nino’s fears were confirmed later that night during a discord chat.

Adrien Regreste: Sorry guys. Looks like we won’t be able to play at my house again Not for a while at least. :(

Lord DM: Don’t worry about it bro Had to happen eventually

Marinoodles: I’m so sorry! :( I hope you didn’t get in trouble because of us

Adrien Regreste: Nothing more than usual They aren’t threatening to keep me locked up at home So, you know Better than usual

Alya’ll Beware: That’s something at least R they going to let u hang out again?

Adrien Regreste: *shrugs* Probably. Anyway… Sorry to be a bummer. Night, everybody!

Marinoodles: Sweet dreams!

Alya’ll Beware: Night, kiddos.

Lord DM: Don’t let the assassins bite! ;) [Three thumbs down, one angry emoji]

#Miraculous Ladybug #Nino Lahiffe #Alya Cesaire #DJ Wifi #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Adrienette #Dungeons and Dragons #DnD #D&D #ml fanfiction #my writing #Nino's Quest

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master-sass-blast · 6 years ago

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Found Family, Part One --Wade.

I AM SO EXCITED ABOUT THIS ONE. I HAVE BEEN PLANNING THIS PIECES FOR M O N T H S.

Summary: A brief look at yours and Wade’s siblingship, and all that it entails.

Rating: T for adult language, mentions of abuse/mental health issues/suicide, and mild angst.

Pairings: Piotr Rasputin x Reader and Nathan Summers x Wade Wilson.

@marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie

Some say that the two of you together are a disaster. A cruel joke by the universe unfairly cast upon the rest of society. A recipe for total destruction.

You know better than to buy into what any of the bystanders and onlookers say. The two of you, while admittedly destructive, are like air to each other; without one another, neither of you would be able to survive.

Wade Wilson is your –adoptive—brother, you’re his –adoptive—sister, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

The technical beginning of your wonderful sibling-ship with Wade Wilson starts when you help him prank Scott Summers in the dead of night, but that’s not where things really started. At least, not in your view of things.

No, they start the next day, when Wade knocks on your door half an hour before noon. He’s dressed in the most outrageous, neon pink and green Hawaiian shirt, orange camo jeggings, and bright, ‘fuck you’ blue Crocs.

“You eat lunch yet?” he asks, seemingly oblivious to the way your eyes are blinking their protest at the amalgamation of colors he’s wearing.

“Uh… no?”

“Great!” He loops an arm around your shoulders and steers you down the hall. “Let’s go get some! I’m buying.”

Dopinder, as it turns out, is a sweet and gentle soul –despite his weird thirst for vengeance. He drives the two of you to a downtown diner –and takes Wade’s weirdness with considerable grace and stride, which isn’t something you’ve witnessed from anyone else yet—and drops you off with the promise to wait until the two of you are done eating.

“I’m pretty sure you’re shafting his ability to earn a livable income,” you say as a waitress seats you and Wade at a booth adjacent to a window.

Wade snorts. “As if. One, I tip him in chicken nuggets, which is more than anyone else ever does. B, I’m helping him get into the mercenary industry, which pays way better than driving a fucking taxi ever will. And four, he doesn’t mind.”

You open your menu, start scanning the options, then freeze.

There’s so many choices –fuck, you’ve never even eaten out at a proper restaurant before. Your parents were too focused on ‘keeping you safe’ to let you have a proper childhood, dammit.

“Don’t know what to do?” The corner of Wade’s mouth turns up when you give him a ‘deer in headlights’ look. “I figured you probably didn’t have much experience with this. Russell didn’t either. Consider today your crash course in ‘how the world works.’”

“…Thanks.” You look down at the menu quickly to hide the tears that are already blurring your vision. “Uh, what do I get?”

“Whatever you want! They do all day breakfast here, and –in my opinion—there’s no bad time to eat a pancake.”

You smile. Pancakes do sound good. You peruse the menu for a moment longer, and the waitress is back to take your orders.

Wade orders a mountain of food. If he notices the way the waitress’s eyes bug out while he rattles off his insanely long order, he doesn’t let it stop him. He just keeps going, and her pen keeps flying across the page of her little book.

When he finishes, she turns to you, looking somewhat shell-shocked. “And for you, sweetheart?”

You copy Wade’s method of ordering –but not the length of his order. “Pancakes, bacon on the side, extra maple syrup, please.”

The look of relief on her face is almost comical as she jots that down. She promises to have everything out “as quick as possible,” then takes your menus and walks away.

Wade grins at you. “Look at you. You’re a natural!”

You can’t help but grin back.

You spend the rest of the day with Wade –and Dopinder, since he has to drive the two of you around. Wade takes you to various stores, having you buy yourself something –a book, a movie, a scarf—at each place so you can get used to interacting with people and handling monetary transactions.

You’re touched in a way that you can’t begin to describe. Sure, Professor Xavier and his team of mutants can help you get your mutation-related abilities under control, but no one’s offered to help you integrate into the real world yet. It’s like Wade’s thrown you a life-line you didn’t realize you needed.

When Dopinder drops the two of you off at the mansion, Colossus is waiting for you on the front step, arms crossed over his massive chest and a disapproving frown set on his face. “Taking young ones of property without permission is not allowed, Wade. You know this.”

“Okay, first of all, she’s not a ‘young one;’ she’s over eighteen, which means she’s allowed to come and go as she pleases. Even I know enough law stuff to know that. Secondly—”

“We’ll try to give you a head’s up next time, Colossus,” you interject before things can too far out of hand. “Sorry for making you worry.”

His expression softens considerable as his gaze switches over to you. “That is reasonable. Did you have nice day out?”

You smile and nod. “Yeah. Wade showed me around New York. It was cool.”

“See? I’m cool. Relax, Chrome Dome. I know what I’m doing.”

Colossus shakes his head, but he’s still smiling. “We will make X-Man of you yet, Wade.”

Wade’s full attention turns to you as the metal giant turns and heads back inside. “You were all smiles with him, huh?”

You narrow your eyes at Wade. “So what? Smiling is a normal human thing!”

“Sure,” Wade says, drawing out the ‘u.’ “You like him, don’t you?”

“Only as much as you like Cable!”

It’s Wade’s turn to narrow his eyes. “I do not like Cable. I merely have a ‘healthy fascination’ with him and his metal arm. And his awesome gun.”

You smile sweetly at Wade and step inside. “Glad we’ve got that all settled, then.”

Wade pretty well takes you under his wing after that. The two of you have the same penchant for wild mischief –and fucking with Scott Summers—so it’s no surprise that you get along like ducks and water.

But what no one else notices –which, admittedly, is probably because they’re so used to cleaning up after yours and Wade’s hijinks—is that Wade does more than just rope you into his nonsense.

The two of you need to run to a store to pick up supplies for your latest prankster endeavor? He has you make a list, estimate how much it’ll cost, keep track of the route on Dopinder’s GPS, and puts you in charge of navigating the store while you track down everything you need.

He gets bored of being cooped up in the mansion? He takes you out for an adventure, teaches you how to navigate streets and pick out safe places to duck into if you run into trouble.

He buys you your first laptop and cellphone, shows you how to customize everything for “maximum fun.” (And, when his knowledge runs out, he just sets you down in front of Ellie and has her teach you how to be safe on the Internet and how to avoid getting ten thousand viruses on your computer.)

The man makes sure you get a proper sex-ed course. Not one where he just cracks inappropriate jokes –though there are a lot of those going around—but a real one. The ins and outs of consent, how to avoid getting STDs, basic anatomy, how to spot cancer on both sets of genitals.

And it’s all of this that leaves you convinced that Wade Wilson is one of the smartest persons you’ve ever met.

It’s not hard to learn how to read Wade Wilson. Once you get past all the shock value of the jokes, vulgar language, and weird habits, he’s an open book that has its heart on its cover.

He’s lonely. Not the creepy, ‘I’m forty years old and I’m lonely so I spend a lot of time with people half my age’ lonely, mind you. He’s just… lonely. Sad, even.

He hates his skin. That much is obvious from all the long sleeves and layers he wears, even in the dead of summer. And while you don’t see anything wrong with the way he looks, he does, and that’s the only opinion that matters in his book.

Wade Wilson is also a man that wrestles with a lot of demons. His healing factor didn’t cure him of his cancer, so he faces excruciating pain on a daily basis. The loss of his girlfriend –who stuck with him after he got fucked over by Francis and turned into ‘an avocado that got fucked by an older avocado’—is a gaping hole in his chest that he doesn’t know how to plug. His self-loathing is a constant presence in his mind, and the amount of skin he covers is a decent giveaway for just how much he’s hating himself at a given moment.

He kills himself because he “can’t really die.”

And it’s when you watch Colossus and a few other X-Men deal with the aftermath of one of Wade’s “visits to Vanessa” that you decide that this crazy man might need you as much as you need him.

You happen to catch a glimpse of him in the hall a few days later, decked out in his Deadpool suit.

There’s only two reasons Wade wears that suit: he’s getting ready for a fight, or he’s in the pits of self-hatred (or both). But he doesn’t have his swords on him, which means he’s not gearing up for a fight—

You dart down the hall and latch onto one of his arms. “Hey, dude! I just had this great idea that we have to try.”

“Well, don’t keep me waiting, Aang!” Wade chirps back –but his voice is heavily strained, and, yep, you were right about his mental state. “What do we just have to try?”

You don’t actually have an idea on hand, so you just blurt the first thing that pops into your head. “Dessert burritos.”

Wade cocks his head back and considers the idea for a moment. “Dessert… burritos. Holy shit, you’re a genius.”

You grin –his tone’s brighter, lighter, which means you’ve managed to pull him out of his funk a little.

He grabs your hand and starts skipping down the hallway. “To the kitchen!”

Operation “Dessert Burritos” ends in nothing short of a disaster. You and Wade try to make pancakes to act as tortillas, and since neither of you can cook anything other than instant noodles, you wind up burning every attempt at you make. Three flaming skillets get chucked out the back door and two more are doused under the kitchen sink faucet before the two of you decide to call it quits on the ‘pancake’ alley.

So, then, the next logical step seems to be ice cream sundaes –except that Wade is still stuck on the ‘burrito’ concept, so he tries to wrap ice cream in a regular tortilla, which winds up tasting terrible for obvious reason, so Wade spits it out in the trashcan, except he misses part of his target and winds up spraying the front of the can with half his mouthful of ice cream and tortilla.

And then the two of you wind up unpacking the fridge and most of the pantry to find “sundae appropriate toppings” because Colossus is a health nut who keeps the kitchen stocked with healthy things—

And then Wade wants to try microwaving Gushers because why not, and you’ve never been one to say no to an opportunity to do something you’ve never done before—

And thus is all the chaos Colossus walks in on when he pops his head into the kitchen to see what the two of you are up to.

You’re eating fudge ripple ice cream straight out of the carton with a serving spoon, perched on the kitchen. You wave at him with the spoon as his face goes slack with shock. “Hey, dude! What’s up?”

Wade’s swearing up a storm while he tries to get molten Gusher remains off his face –he’d opted to take his mask off while he ate, and you’re suspecting that he’s regretting that decision now.

Colossus covers his face with both his hands and groans. “Wade—”

“Hey, man,” you interject before he can lambaste your honorary sibling too badly. “This was one hundred percent my idea. Don’t worry, we’ll get it all cleaned up. It’ll be like it never happened, I promise.” You pause, then add “Well, the gushers in the microwave was Wade’s idea. He’s on his own for that.”

“Oh, fuck you!”

“Hey, I told you not to stick your face into the microwave, but no, Pikachu knows everything!”

Colossus just sighs and shakes his head. “You two are destructive.”

“Hey, at least we didn’t short circuit the microwave this time!” You offer him an impish smile. “We’re doing better than we usually do.”

He puts his hands on his hips, looking every bit the stern father –but the corner of his mouth turns up as he shakes his head again. “I suppose you are correct.”

“Yupp. Like I said, don’t worry. We’ll totally handle the clean up and everything.”

He casts a concerned, appraising look around the kitchen, but still favors you with a small smile when his gaze finally settles on you again. “Well, I suppose I leave you both to it, then.”

The two of you have to spend the rest of the day cleaning and scrubbing to get the kitchen back in order. Wade’s none too happy about it, but you do your best to make it bearable for him –music, banter, the works.

And, bonus, cleaning with him means he has to stay with you, which means he can’t wallow in self-loathing. He’s not his bright, bubbly self, but he’s not falling apart either, which is a win in your book.

It’s dark out by the time the two of you finish getting everything put away. Normally, you’d just call it a day, but it’s not hard to see the darkness swimming behind Wade’s eyes—

“Hey, man, you wanna have a sleepover in the rec room tonight?”

Wade gasps, and his eyes genuinely light up. “Sleepovers are my favorite!”

You grin. “They’re my favorite, too! Come on, go get changed and I’ll meet you there. You still need to catch me up on all the reality TV stuff.”

The two of you are getting the rec room set up for the night when you hear Colossus’s heavy footsteps in the hall.

You pat Wade’s shoulder before hopping over the couch. “I’ll deal with him. Pick out something for us to watch. I’ll be back in five, ten minutes max.”

The metal giant himself is in the kitchen, checking up on everything before he goes to bed, it would seem.

You watch him for a couple moments –you don’t miss the surprised expression on his face at the orderly state of the kitchen, either—before making your presence known. “Making sure we held up our end of things?”

The expression on his face is guilty when he looks over his shoulder at you.

“It’s fine,” you chuckle as you step into the kitchen, holding up your hands in a disarming gesture. “I would if I were you, too.”

He ducks his head a little, but he’s smiling. “I do not wish to seem judgmental.” He looks past you –or, rather, over you—and frowns at the glow of the TV. “You two are still up?”

You glance over your shoulder, then step closer to the man of metal and lower your voice. “Wade’s had a rough day today. I just… I don’t want to leave him alone, you know?”

Understanding settles on Colossus’s steel features; he nods. “Da.”

“We’re just gonna hang out for the night, have a sleepover,” you add. “No more kitchen adventures –speaking of which, one of the skillets was not salvageable.”

Colossus huffs out a gentle laugh, crosses his arms over his massive chest, and shakes his head. “Somehow, I am not surprised.”

“You gotta admit, it’s better than our usual levels of collateral damage.”

“I suppose.” He smiles softly at you for a moment before clearing his throat and looking away. “Well, I leave you both to it.”

“Thanks. Goodnight, Colossus.”

“Rest well, Y/N.”

You watch him go for a minute –watch the way the muscles in his back and shoulders ripple as he walks—before you shake yourself out of the daze Colossus never fails to put you in and head back to Wade. “All taken care of. We’re free to poison our brains with reality TV drama all we want!”

Wade doesn’t look up at you when you walk in. He’s seated on the middle of the couch, jaw tight and lips pursed as he stares ahead at the TV screen. “I don’t need your fucking pity.”

You blink, shocked by the sudden outburst and his surly mood. It doesn’t take much to put together that he probably heard your conversation in the kitchen –Colossus’s voice always carries—but even if he didn’t it’s not too far out of Wade’s “normal” for him to assume that he’s only getting the scraps of what decent treatment he deserves.

Either way, you’re not having this argument. Not now, not ever.

You put your hands on your hips and fix him with a stern look. “Good, because I’m not giving you any.”

Your sharp tone makes his eyes widen, and he actually looks away from the glowing screen to stare at you.

“I don’t know if you noticed, dumbass,” you continue, tossing in a mild insult to help him figure out you’re serious, “but I care about you. You’re the one person in this mansion that made sure I’d be able to function in the real world if I had to, and I’ll be damned if I’m just gonna let you flounder when you’re feeling down. And that’s not pity, jackass. It’s called being a decent fucking human being. Got it?”

“Pretty sure it’s pity when the person isn’t obligated to care about you,” Wade throws back, smiling bitterly.

And you understand where he’s coming from. After Vanessa died, all the help he’s been getting has come from the X-Men, and how can it not look like a pity handout when the people helping you have their lives and themselves so extraordinarily put together?

You’ve felt the same way about it on more than one sleepless night.

You let out an irritated huff and cross your arms over your chest. “Fine. I’m hereby adopting you as my brother. Now, as your new sister, I’m obligated to care about you. Are we doing this sleepover or what?”

Wade blinks at you, then grins. It’s tired, and it’s worn down, but it’s not bitter.

You’ll take it.

“Hell yeah we are.” He scoots over so you can sit next to him. “These are reruns of ‘Say Yes to the Dress.’ This one’s the ‘Bridezilla’ edition.”

“Sweet.” You plop down on the couch just in time to see a particularly distraught bride-to-be throw a fascinator at her mother. “Holy shit.”

“Just wait,” Wade says, all too gleeful. “It gets better.”

You wake up in the gray pre-dawn of the next day and nearly smack your head into Wade’s.

The two of you had taken half the couch each, with heads in the middle so you could hear each other talk and avoid kicking each other in the middle of the night.

Wade’s still asleep, one hand holding onto one of yours.

The sight makes you smile, makes you feel a little less despair over the state of the world.

You squeeze his hand, then nudge his head when he doesn’t stir. “Wake up, idiot.”

Wade groans. “Too early.”

“Yeah, which is why I’m putting you back to bed.” You tug him off the couch and walk him towards the main staircase. “Come on. Your ancient back needs a proper mattress.”

“Not ancient.”

“Yes, you are, you geriatric motherfucker.”

You manage to get him up the stairs and to his room without incident. He drops into his bed with a grunt, and you tuck a blanket around him and wait for him to start snoring again.

And then you get to work.

It takes a couple minutes, but you manage to find all the guns and knives Wade keeps on him while at the Institute. You tuck the numerous weapons into your arms, then pad out of his room.

Colossus is in the hall –already dressed for the day, the morning bird. He frowns, concerned, when he sees your armload of weaponry. “What—”

“Don’t worry,” you toss over your shoulder as you walk precisely one door to the left. “I’m not using them.” You kick the door a couple times with your foot, then step back and wait.

Nathan Summers, alias Cable, opens the door a few seconds later. He takes one good look at the guns and knives in your arms, then raises an eyebrow at you as if to say ‘what the fuck do you want me to do with those?’

“Wade’s been in a mood,” you say, as if that explains everything –which, technically, it does. “And you actually know how to store these properly.”

He sighs, but doesn’t look too put-out about it, and opens the door more. “Bring them in.”

You dump the arsenal on his bed when he motions for you to do so, watch as he puts gunlocks on the various firearms and tucks the knives and other bladed weapons into the top drawer of his nightstand.

Colossus watches from the hall, hovering nervously in a way that should not be possible for someone of his side.

“If you’re cool with it, I’m gonna leave a note for Wade to let him know to see you if he wants his shit back,” you say as Nathan tucks Wade’s guns into a duffel bag. “He probably won’t be up before noon.”

Nathan sighs, but nods anyway. “Not like I’m going anywhere else.”

“Thanks,” you say, and you mean it. “I wouldn’t have known what to do with all this.”

“Anytime, kid.”

Colossus watches you carefully as you walk back into the hall and close Nathan’s door behind you. “You… care a great deal for Wade.”

It’s not hard to hear the unspoken question, mostly because it’s easy to see how someone might confuse the easy camaraderie you and Wade have always had for something else. Something… less platonic.

You shrug and tell the truth. “He’s my brother.”

Finding out that Colossus –Piotr, his name is Piotr, and you think you could spend the rest of your life saying his name without ever getting tired of how it feels on your lips—likes you is a world-changing revelation.

You know by the looks Wade keeps sending you throughout lunch, the afternoon, and dinner that he’s going to want a full report on everything that’s happened with Piotr.

You can’t wait to give him one.

You also can’t help but notice the way that the door to Wade’s room is cracked open and the lights are on as Piotr walks you back to your room –ostensibly so you know he’s ‘in’ and will pop in to give him the full rundown, but probably also so he can eavesdrop, the little shit.

But you can’t find it in yourself to care all that much because Piotr’s hand is holding yours and you can’t imagine ever feeling anything better than what you’re feeling right now.

He walks you to your door, smiles fondly down at you. “I have work tonight. I doubt I will see you before morning.”

“So you’re ‘saying goodnight just in case?’” You ask, smiling back as giddy excitement coils in your stomach.

“Something like that, da.” And then he dips his head and presses his lips against yours.

You can’t help but gasp, just a little, and lift your hand to his shoulder to steady yourself.

The kiss ends all to soon –for your liking and Piotr’s, if the look he gives you is anything to go by.

He presses his forehead against yours before stepping back. “Goodnight, myshka.”

“Goodnight, Piotr.” You let your fingers slip from his as he walks away and watch him as he retreats down the hall.

He looks over his shoulder before he turns the corner to head downstairs. He smiles when he sees you watching, and blows you a kiss before disappearing from view—

And then, right on cue, Wade opens his door and grins at you.

You just cover your face with your hands and let out an excited squeal. You’re too excited to be annoyed with Wade, dammit.

He tugs you in his room. “I have snacks. Now, tell me everything.”

The two of you talk for hours, demolishing several bags of fun-sized candies and two packages of Keebler Fudgestripes.

“No fucking way!” Wade brays. “He was pet-naming you for the better part of a year? What a dork!”

“Well, he’s my dork now, so mind your mouth.” You grin stupidly, then squeal as you fall over onto Wade’s bed.

“Oh my gosh, you’re so cute I could die.”

There’s a knock on the doorframe, and Piotr –still out of defense mode, which is gonna take some serious getting used to—pokes his head into Wade’s room. “You are still up?” He frowns when he sees the numerous wrappers covering Wade’s bed. “Did you eat all that?”

You giggle at your boyfriend. “Kinda. We got carried away.”

He shakes his head in an all-too-familiar disapproving gesture, but an amused smile plays at his lips. “Is not good to consume so much sugar this late, myshka. You will be up half of night.”

“Unless I find a way to burn it off.” You grin at him. “Mind accompanying me on a late night stroll?”

He smiles softly at you. “Konechno –of course.”

“God, you two are so barf-worthy,” Wade gushes as you hop off his bed. “I love it.”

You catch Nathan in the hall as Piotr escorts you towards the stairs.

He smirks at the two of you, presumably having gotten an update from Wade and Ellie. “Going somewhere?”

“Just for a walk.” You jerk your head back towards Wade’s room, where light is still spilling into the hallway from his open door. “I bet he could use some company right now.”

Nathan shakes his head and mutters something that sounds like ‘clingy’ under his breath, but he stills strides over to Wade’s room anyway. He pauses at the doorway, frowning. “Did you eat all of that?”

“Yes, he did!” you shout. “You should have seen it; it was horrifying!”

“Lies!” Wade shouts back from his room. “Lies, lies, all fucking lies and slander!”

Piotr chuckles and tugs on your hand. “Come, myshka. Before you get into more trouble.”

You grin as you follow him down the stairs. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Watching Nate finally –finally—kiss Wade is like getting to the end of a good slow-burn book. You’ve loved watching the build-up, loved placing bets with everyone else on when those two would finally get their heads out of their asses and realize they were basically dating already, but God it’s such a relief to see them actually do something other than flirt with each other.

And one good turn deserves another, which is why you dig a box of maple sugar candies that you’d been saving for Wade’s birthday out of your dresser drawer and head over to Wade’s room.

Nathan’s already in there, holding Wade in his arms as they snuggle on Wade’s bed.

You can’t help but grin. “God, you two are so barf worthy. I love it.”

Wade sticks his tongue out at you. “We’re gonna give you and Metallica a run for your ‘hashtag goals’ money. Just you watch.”

“Good fucking luck.” You gesture at him with the box. “Wanna give me the ‘full rundown? I brought snacks.”

“I never say no to snacks.” He makes grabby hands for the box, then gasps softly when he sees the label. “Where’d you get these?”

“Vermont. The school took the kids on a field trip to a maple syrup farm. They’re the real deal.”

Wade tears the box open with all the delicacy of a rabid badger. “You do love me.”

“Always have, bro.”

Nathan frowns down at the little candies shaped like maple leaves. “The fuck are those?”

“Only the best thing on the face of the damn planet.” Wade holds one up to his boyfriend’s mouth. “Open up, sweetcheeks.”

Nate bites off part of the candy. His eyes widen immediately, and he spits the lump of melting sugar out onto a tissue. “Fuck. Too sweet.”

Wade gasps. “I’ll have you know that, as a Canadian, you’ve just committed a heresy. I’m sorry, we’re gonna have to see other people.”

Nathan snorts as he chucks his tissue into a nearby wastebasket. “Can’t get rid of me that easy, gorgeous.”

You can’t help but smile as Wade nuzzles Nate’s shoulder affectionately. “I just wanna say: I fucking told you so.”

“Shut up,” Wade shoots back. “You did not.”

“Wade, how long did I tell you that he liked you? How fucking long?”

“Yeah, well how long did I tell you that our resident steel boyscout liked you?” Wade rolls his eyes, then raises the pitch of his voice. “No, he doesn’t, we’re just friends, he doesn’t feel the same way!”

“I do not sound like that!”

“Uh, yeah you do! That’s why I made my voice sound like that.”

“Listen, asshole—”

“Language, myshka.” Piotr leans against the doorframe, smiling fondly at you. “Be nice.”

You point imperiously at Wade. “He started it!”

“Yeah, and I finished it! No performance anxiety here!”

Nate rolls his eyes. “You’re both insane.”

“Yeah? So?” You pluck two maple sugar candies out of the box –ignoring Wade’s squawks of protest as you do—then nab a tissue from the dresser before turning to Piotr. “Here. Try this.”

He eyes the candy, then the tissue, with admittedly fair suspicion. “What is this?”

“Candy.”

He gestures with the tissue. “And this?”

“Call it a safe bet.”

He sighs, then takes a delicate bite of the candy –and, sure enough, promptly spits it out into the tissue. “Bozhe moi, much too sweet.”

“Saw that coming.” You pop your entire candy into your mouth and let out a moan of contentment. “So good.”

“I know,” Wade says as he pops another bite of sugar molded into the shape of a leaf in his mouth. He makes a noise that in any other context would’ve been downright obscene and flops against Nathan’s chest.

“You’re both sugar fiends,” Nathan grumbles, putting an arm around Wade’s shoulders.

“I like to think of it as ‘well-adjusted.’” You grin teasingly at your own boyfriend. “What’s the matter, babe? Can’t handle a little sugar?”

He latches onto your hand and draws you into his arms. “Perhaps, you are just only sweet thing I need in life,” he says as he drops a kiss against the top of your head.

“Ew,” Wade mock-whines. “Get your PDA out of here!”

You roll your eyes at him. “Says the guy who’s literally sitting in his boyfriend’s lap.”

Despite the banter, you’re legitimately happy. You’ve got your happy ending, and Wade’s got his.

Look at us, bro, you think as the four of you share laughs. Champions of overcoming the shittiest obstacles. Go us.

#sass writes #piotr rasputin x reader #colossus x reader #nathan summers x wade wilson #cablepool #i know the warning look scary but this really is just a fluff fest #deadpool fanfic #x men fanfiction

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muszyart · 5 years ago

Text

Dungeon Run: A Short Script

(Short Script-Style Story) Three immortals: Mino, Jack, and Harmon journey throughout the land solving puzzles and slaying monsters, but when his two more-experienced friends grow tired of it all, Mino must save a princess on his own.

SCENE ONE:

(SETTING: A colorful forest at the end of summer. The leaves of the trees are various shades of green, and the woods are not necessarily dense, but it could be easy to get lost if one strayed from its network of paths and signs. It is not dark nor scary, light is able to escape through the leaves and the environment is colorful and textured. Tangled roots line the forest floor among the grass, pumpkins, and small flower beds. Three friends walk atop the path which is a long, raised platform of wood above the forest floor in order to not flood or disturb the ancient roots. These three young friends are, HARMON; an offbeat hermit who is starting to enjoy the company of others again, JACK; a strong woodsman very knowledgeable in science, and MINO; a young curious but often spooked vegetable farmer. With them, they carry backpacks, sleeping bags, and other camping gear.)

HARMON: (mid-joke) And so he said: “what would living in the forest do to help your teeth?” And then I was like, “Simple! Haven’t you heard of transcenDENTALism?!” (He laughs.)

(He looks back at JACK who responds with an eye roll. And MINO who doesn’t understand the joke.)

HARMON (cont.): Get it? … TranscenDENTALism? (Nothing) Ugh, this is exactly why I left society. No one gets my jokes.

JACK: Yeah, yeah, Harmon. Where are we going?

HARMON: Oh, just a few more paths.

JACK: Great.

HARMON: Okay, did I tell you about what I did when the Church of Wizards showed up to my cave once?

(HARMON begins another one of his stories. HE and JACK turn down the road and MINO stays to gaze at the scene in front of him. The flowers, the bees, a rabbit hopping around in the distance. He smiles until he sees in the background, a dark silhouette of someone or something bolting through the trees. After being startled at first, he tries to see what it was.)

JACK: (far away) Hey! Mino, you alright?

MINO: (walking back towards the path) Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.

(The sun begins to set, making the forest darker and darker. HARMON and JACK keep joking and storytelling loudly, normally MINO would be joining in, but he sees that thing in the trees over and over. It’s following them. Paranoid, he makes sure to stay close to his friends. They cross a river, and then, just off the path, lies a clearing, where fireflies dance around and there is a clear view of the stars. HARMON starts a fire and begins to cook dinner while JACK lays out a large tarp on the floor. He pulls a remote out of his pocket, pushes a button, and then the tarp springs up into the shape of a tent. JACK notices MINO sitting silently by the fire.)

JACK: Mino, you seem to be really quiet today.

MINO: What? No-

HARMON: I just thought he was listening to my story. Anyway, the tiger-frog jumps up and it’s like-

JACK: No, Harmon. (To MINO) what’s wrong?

MINO: Well, I think I saw a monster in the woods.

JACK: What?

HARMON: Why didn’t you tell us?

MINO: (surprised) What?! I’ve been trying to tell you guys for the past three hours!

(Flashback to all of MINO’s sightings.)

MINO: Guys, I think I just saw a monster.

JACK: What?

HARMON: No, that’s just a tree.

(The next one.)

MINO: Jack, there! Don’t you see it?

JACK: What?!

HARMON: (squinting) That tree?

MINO: No, the… nevermind.

(Next one. The MONSTER, a hairy humanoid figure with red eyes and antlers, is destroying the pumpkins a few feet away from them.)

MINO: There! There! It’s RIGHT THERE!

JACK: WHAT?!

HARMON: No, that’s just a… (squints again) oh… wow, I guess that is a monster.

(The MONSTER roars in their faces. Saliva and pumpkin guts fly at them. It then runs away into the trees.)

JACK: What were we talking about?

HARMON: Oh yeah- So I’m sitting there, ketchup is EVERYWHERE!

(Flashback ends. MINO glares at HARMON and JACK as they remember then snap back to reality.)

JACK: Yeah, I guess you did see one.

(Silence.)

HARMON: Oh, well.

(JACK and HARMON go back to setting up camp and cooking)

MINO: Well, shouldn’t we do something about it?

HARMON: Oh, yeah.

JACK: Hmmm.

HARMON: (shrugs) No.

JACK: (smiles, high-fives HARMON) No!

MINO: What?! It’s a monster! In the FOREST!

JACK: That’s just like saying “there’s a fish! IN A POND!”

HARMON: Haha! Zing!

MINO: I don’t understand why you’re… so chill about this! We fight monsters!

JACK: Yeah.

MINO: And there was a monster back there.

JACK: Yeah.

MINO: And you just want to sit here, when it could attack us at night?!

JACK and HARMON: Yeah.

HARMON: (thinks) Wait… (Shrugs.) yeah.

MINO: Are you… oh my Gods. Who are you and what did you do with my friends?!

(He grabs his sword and lunges towards them. JACK, much taller than MINO, holds him back with one hand.)

JACK: (while MINO is swinging and fighting) Mino, we are your friends. Just, I think Harmon and I can agree that as adventurers, we go around fighting beasts and creatures a whole lot. Sure, it can be exhilarating and really fun! But sometimes it's really tiring. So we just want a little break for once.

MINO: (stops fighting) But we can’t just take a break! It’s out there!

JACK: It didn’t do anything to us.

MINO: Yeah… but it’s a wild, rabid whatever-it-is!

JACK: (continuing) Which is just living its life in its natural habitat. Eating pumpkin guts and acting all creepy. That’s nature, Mino.

MINO: Wha- … (He turns to HARMON) Harmon?

HARMON: Hmm?

MINO: Do you think the same thing?

(HARMON reclines on the soft grass after stirring the pot he has been boiling over the fire..)

HARMON: Ditto.

(He notices MINO getting angrier.)

HARMON (cont.): (Sighs.) Mino, sometimes you just gotta sit down on the grass with a nice forest-temperature drink. Take a break, and instead of looking for it all the time, wait for the call of adventure to come to you.

(The fireflies in the clearing immediately form into an arrow towards a spooky looking path through the trees.)

HARMON (cont.): (to the fireflies) What? No! Not now… we’ll go in the morning… But dude, you just gotta take a break every once in a while. And that’s exactly what the camping trip is for. (Now stern and serious) Now, sit down and eat your spaghetti.

(He scoops out a blob of pasta from the pot, ladles some sauce onto it, then hands it in a bowl to MINO.)

MINO: (looking at the spaghetti) I would throw this onto the ground to emphasize my point. But I like spaghetti too much. (He places the bowl onto the ground.) I mean, look at me, I fight monsters, too! And I’m not tired!

JACK: Well, I wouldn’t say you fight them.

MINO: What do you mean?

JACK: Harmon and I fight the monsters. (Picking words carefully.) You’re really… useful in… other stuff, and really… determined… when you set your mind to something, but… you’re not good at fighting.

MINO: (defensive) What? Yeah, I am! (Remembering something.) And you can’t blame me because of my sword! It’s a magic sword, but it's pretty unreliable.

JACK: That’s because its called the “Unreliable Sword”. Half of its abilities are really cool, and the other half of them are kinda lame.

HARMON: (laughs) Yeah, I don’t think you’ve ever even killed anything.

MINO: I have.

JACK: What?

MINO: A mosquito… It was a big one.

(JACK and HARMON laugh.)

MINO: That’s it! I’m going to hunt down that monster, and show you guys!

HARMON: At least eat your spaghetti…

MINO: Fine, I’ll take it with me. (He looks at a firefly) Which way did it go?

(The fireflies all form the same arrow towards the spooky path. MINO sighs and grabs his things, then runs into the forest.)

JACK: Should we go after him?

HARMON: Jack, one thing that I have learned is to never come between a young man and his quest to restore his ego.

SCENE TWO:

(MINO, with his sword in one hand, his bowl of spaghetti in the other, runs through the forest leaping over tree roots, following an army of fireflies. The call to adventure. He and the fireflies all stop at a hillside with a large stone doorway blasted open, its metal bars bent, and inside is a hallway, dark and ominous.)

MINO: Well, that’s dark and ominous.

(The fireflies begin to fly away.)

MINO (cont.): Oh, okay! Now you leave, when I’m supposed to go into the dark, scary place!

(One of the fireflies angrily buzzes back at him.)

MINO (cont.): Yeah, yeah. Thanks…

(There’s a shrill roar from the depths of the lair. MINO’s eyes widen. It is the same roar of the MONSTER.)

MINO (cont…): Well, here goes…

(MINO tip-toes into the dark and ominous hallway. Immediately, he hears the sound of metal clanging together and the shifting of rock and brick. The floor falls and MINO slides down a long, winding tunnel of hardened mud and stone brick.)

MINO: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH! Oof.

(He falls down on his stomach into a stone brick room connected to a cave system. A couple of torches illuminate the room, which appears to be an old dungeon now turned into a monster’s den. Finally regaining his strength, he pushes himself up to see what is directly in front of him, his sword. Then in the back of the room, in a cage dangling from the ceiling, a beautiful PRINCESS in a green dress with red hair. MINO is immediately star-struck when he sees the glint of a tiara in her hair.)

MINO: (under his breath) A princess…

(The PRINCESS looks distraught. Well, obviously, she’s in a cage. But her initial surprise and hope that a hero had come to save her fade into fear of something behind him. And that was when MINO’s sense of hearing came back.)

MONSTER: (Roars)

MINO: (turns around) The spaghetti!

(Sure enough, the MONSTER is behind him, crawling closer and closer towards the intact bowl of spaghetti.)

MINO (cont.): No!

(MINO grabs his Unreliable Sword and swings it towards the MONSTER. He missed, but finally, his Unreliable Sword activated one of its more powerful abilities. A large fireball manifests from the swing and blasts the MONSTER against the wall. All that remains is a pile of singed hair and burnt antlers. MINO breathes heavily as the adrenaline fades away until he hears something behind him again.)

PRINCESS: Whoa… That was awesome!

(He turns around.)

MINO: Haha… Thanks! PRINCESS: How did you do that?!

MINO: (as surprised as she is) I don’t know!

(The two laugh together.)

MINO (cont.): Oh, I should help you-.

(He walks over to the cage.)

PRINCESS: (smiling) Yeah, that would be great.

MINO: (looking at the cage for a door.) Yeah, I’ll get you out… (beat) How do I get you out?

PRINCESS: There should be a hatch underneath to open up…

MINO: Oh, I see it. Okay!

(He unhooks the large latch at the bottom and the trapdoor of the cage opens allowing the princess to come down.)

MINO (cont.): You okay?

PRINCESS: Yeah, thanks! I’m Katherine.

MINO: My name’s Mino!

(They smile. KATHERINE looks over at the bowl in MINO’s hand.)

MINO (cont.): (he hands her the bowl) Oh, you can have it!

KATHERINE: Oh, thank you! I haven’t eaten in days. You looked so angry when the monster wanted it so I wasn’t going to ask.

MINO: (laughs) No, no, it’s fine.

(She eats.)

KATHERINE: (with a mouthful) Tho what now?

MINO: Well, uhh. It doesn’t look like we can go back up there… We’ll have to go through that hallway.

KATHERINE: (while chewing) Mmkay. I fink dere’s moar dungeon dataway.

MINO: Oh really? Okay. Sorry, usually you find the princess at the end.

KATHERINE: Haha, yeah I get it.

MINO: Let’s go!

(The two enter the hallway. It looks like that of a castle dungeon with heavy stone archways on the ceiling and barred windows into darkness. MINO notices one of the tiles on the floor sank after he stepped on it, almost as if it was a button. KATHERINE screams in horror. Nearly half a dozen arrows launched from the wall into his body. It was a trap. Bleeding, he falls to the floor. Fade to black.)

SCENE THREE:

(MINO awakes in his sleeping bag, in his tent. He scrambles out to see HARMON and JACK sitting at the campfire, roasting sausages, unphased by his presence.)

JACK: You died… didn’t you?

(A pause.)

MINO: Wha- no!

JACK: So… you just walked back into the tent without Harmon and I seeing you? Which is also highly plausible but…

MINO: (looks down) Yeah… I died.

HARMON: Called it.

JACK: But you owe me five-

MINO: I killed the monster, though!

JACK: (sighs, irritated) Harmon, you don’t owe me five-

HARMON: Wait, then what else happened-

MINO: (remembering) I gotta go.

(He grabs his sword and more spaghetti then runs into the woods. HARMON and JACK look at one, confused.)

MINO: (sprinting) Okay, okay. I’ve got this.

(MONTAGE SEQUENCE: MINO runs through the forest. Makes it to the dark, ominous entrance. Jumps and slides down into the dungeon, creating a great first impression for KATHERINE, now back in her cage. He turns to face the MONSTER and is once again lucky with the Unreliable Sword, electrocuting it.)

KATHERINE: (she doesn’t recognize him, the Dungeon has reset.) That… was… so wicked COOL!

MINO: (attempting a suave posture) Y-es (an unfortunate voice crack) Of course, I came back to save you, Princess Katherine.

KATHERINE: (Confused) You came… back?

MINO: (also confused) Huh? Oh! This place resets doesn’t it?

KATHERINE: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

MINO: Of course, you don’t know!

(KATHERINE glares at him. Confused and offended.)

MINO: Let’s, uh, let’s just go!

(ANOTHER MONTAGE SEQUENCE: The two enter the hallway and unluckily MINO steps on another trapped tile. Death. He returns again. Saves the princess again. [Uncool this time due to the Unreliable Sword being unlucky, making itself weigh one hundred pounds.] Realizes both trapped tiles were red and avoids the red tiles. Success! Only to realize that on the back wall, he could have put two and two together seeing a red skull painted there. Finally, they enter the next room in which there are three doors. First door, a giant tentacle pulls him in. Death. The second door, he dodges another swarm of arrows. Only to realize that KATHERINE was behind him. Her death. Which would make the rest pointless, so he opens the first door. Death. Finally, the third door! Another hallway! Success!)

HARMON: Yeah, I shouldn’t say that. You’re angry.

KATHERINE: (Surprised, still eating her spaghetti) Wow, Sir, um, Mino. You must be really lucky.

MINO: (laughing in pain) Oh, I’m really not.

(FINAL MONTAGE: After leading PRINCESS KATHERINE through an entire night of attempts through puzzles, a treasure maze, a haunted pizzeria, a witch’s trivia game show, and a goblin nest, the final room was a circular, extensive hallway towards a door. One that opens to the bright morning light of the outside world.)

MINO (cont.): (exhausted) Almost… there.

(Suddenly, a DRAGON appears.)

MINO (cont.): Come on! No… no no no, no, no. NO NO NO!

KATHERINE: (confused) Mino, you’ve been so good at everything else, surely a dragon’s a piece of cake!

(MINO sighs. Realizing there is no way around the DRAGON, MINO raises Unreliable Sword which then disintegrates. The DRAGON roars and opened his mouth, where they could see the fire from the back of his throat that would soon be upon them.)

MINO: (thinking out loud) Next time, I’m going to have to get that big shield from the maze with all the treasure in it.

KATHERINE: What, next time?

(The DRAGON, almost ready to release its flames, squeals and then falls to the floor. Smelly, thick smoke escapes from his mouth and nostrils like a doused campfire. Death. Oh, the dragon’s death, not MINO’s… When he falls, he reveals behind him: HARMON, JACK, and a KNIGHT in shining armor atop a horse. The KNIGHT dressed in blindingly shiny armor and with a posh posture, holds up the longbow with which he killed the dragon.)

MINO: Guys!

KATHERINE: Sir Logan!

SIR LOGAN: Hello, my dear girlfriend. I have saved you and this peasant from the beast of this dungeon!

MINO: Wait-

KATHERINE: (smiling, blushing) Well, Mino has done a lot more, Sir Logan.

SIR LOGAN: Has he? But I just killed a dragon!

KATHERINE: Yes, but you wouldn’t understand… Thank you. (she mounts the horse and kisses the knight)

Thank you so much, Mino. (awkward pause.) Come with us to the kingdom! My mother will reward you handsomely.

MINO: (distraught) But-

SIR LOGAN: Shall we go up ahead so we can talk cute together, Princess?

KATHERINE: (she takes his arm) Of course, Sir Logan.

SIR LOGAN: (victory fist) Yessss. Away!

(Together, they ride the horse down the hallway and out the cave entrance. HARMON and JACK stay behind with MINO.)

HARMON: See? Call to adventure!

JACK: More like deus ex machina. (He slaps the wall of the dungeon.) So this is what you’ve been doing all night.

HARMON: You spent the whole night knighting thinking you would get with her…

JACK: Yeah… ouch.

MINO: (angry) Yup, and now… she’s…

HARMON: Hey, it’s okay. Don’t beat yourself up over it. I know some people, unlike yours truly, can’t live a life being alone. So if this helps: Knights have a high mortality rate so you could be next!

MINO: No, I think we could have… um… Well, I think I could’ve been faster if you guys were there. Harmon, half the time I would be super awkward with her and the other half I wouldn’t be able to fight the monsters without you. And then another half of the time I couldn’t solve the puzzles without you, Jack.

JACK: (rolls his eyes) That’s three halves.

HARMON: Maybe, Mino, you learned what the real treasure was…

(He throws his arms over both of their shoulders.)

HARMON (cont.): Friendship.

(MINO pushes away.)

MINO: (drops his sword onto the ground) Shut up.

#fantasy #short story #videogamestory #dungeon #script

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rex101111 · 6 years ago

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Might be weird, but for the meme, how about Sol and Bedman?

Alright!

favorite thing about them: The dude’s design is just…super good. Really sells his style, and by extension the whole series. Metal by way of 90′s anime. very nice.

least favorite thing about them: He isn’t exactly the most interesting main character out there. Granted he gets more interesting as the series goes on, as we find out more about his past and his outlook on life…but as a character he’s kinda just…okay.

favorite line: “FIRST ROUND’S ON ME!” The ending of Rev2 is just…really good, but that capper from Sol after getting help from Axl is just so satisfying

brOTP: Axl, Sin, and Ky for a lesser degree. Him and Axl just spending an evening just bemoaning their shitty luck was a highlight of Rev honestly.

OTP: Aria, if only for the whole tragedy of it all. Love of your life is about to die, albeit with some peace because she spent her last moments with you, only for your best friend to turn her into a monster in an attempt to save her (after turning you into that kind of monster) forcing you to kill her to put her to peace. Until Rev2 that was where it ended…hopefully the next game gives us some scenes with the two just…catching up, talking over drinks, taking the piss out of Asuka’s fashion choices, just some casual shit.

nOTP: Dizzy and Ky. Dizzy is obvious because….ugggghghh. Ky is because…well because c’mon its so boring. Rivals that don’t like each other and just beat each other up everytime they meet is just so…bleh and boring. Guilty Gear is many things but never boring. Not so much a nOTP as a I’d-Rather-NoTP

random headcanon: He serenaded Aria with “fat bottomed girls” after losing a bet. They started dating a week after.

unpopular opinion: He’s…not a nice person. Not cruel, or evil…just an ass. A casual sort of ass, he won’t go out of his way to insult or make someone feel bad, but he’s not gonna spare anybody’s feelings or whatever. He just does not give enough of a shit anymore.

song i associate with them: Insert any Queen song. Other wise that one Iron man cartoon intro.

favorite picture of them: this: link

Bedman:

favorite thing about them: His play style is honestly a ton of fun. Just throwing out special move after special move and then some more special moves to fuck up your opponent. Always good for a laugh XD

least favorite thing about them: That stupid fucking arrow. You know the one, right in the middle of his fucking face on his purple fucking hair like he’s trying to do some evil Aang cosplay. That fucking arrow is so damn stupid why Ishiwatari that arrow is so dumb.

favorite line: His win quotes. His super long, super long winded win quotes. I am not gonna copy paste them here but my fav has to be the one against Answer. Where Bedman goes on a rant about words and politics while casually dragging the poor business ninja through the dirt.

brOTP: Slayer. In a “lets beat the shit out of each other” kinda way. Also Elphelt because why not she deserves a friend. Even if it’s a friend that will most likely insult her dresses or fall asleep mid conversation.

OTP: Nope.

nOTP: None either, but on the subject I’ve seen a lot of people shipping him with Sin and….why? I mean I don’t mind the ship I just find it a bit odd since, as far as I know, they haven’t met each other in the Xrd games. Or was there a scene in SIGN? I never played SIGN so I wouldn’t know.

random headcanon: He’s really good and Chess but absolutely terrible at checkers. Nobody knows why.

unpopular opinion: He’s a fucking asshole. He is! He’s cruel and callous and a know it all and more than a little mean spirited. That’s part of his charm! More people need to stop writing him as this tragic villain soft boi (though he is a tragic villain I’ll grant you) and focus on the fact that he’s a major league ass hat.

song i associate with them: not really. Maybe a creepy nursery rhyme or something

favorite picture of them: eh

#answers #anonymous #guilty gear #Sol Badguy #Bedman

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pixelgrotto · 6 years ago

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The horrific Resident Evil playthrough, part seven

Resident Evil 4 is where the series began for a lot of people. It’s also where the series ended for a lot of people, because while the franchise had occasionally focused more on action rather than horror in the past - I first started noticing this in RE3 - Resident Evil 4 doesn’t hesitate in letting you know from the onset that this is a “STRAP IN, WE GONNA BLOW SOME ASSHOLES UP” kind of game. Goodbye to fixed camera angles, hello to a new behind-the-shoulder perspective designed to emphasize gunplay. Goodbye to a teeny tiny inventory that forces you to think about which items you really need, hello to an expandable briefcase that might still be limited, but is practically gargantuan compared to what you had to deal with in the old games. Goodbye to the Leon Kennedy of Resident Evil 2, who was still a rookie in the Raccoon City Police Department and went through the latter half of the game with a bandaged chest after a bullet temporarily put him out of commission. Hello to Leon Kennedy the Secret Service Action Star, who barely takes a scratch over the course of his 20 hour adventure to rescue the president’s daughter and can even take enemies to Suplex City when you’re in close quarters and presented with a big button prompt that reads SUPLEX!

It’s all a lot to take in at first, especially for someone like me who’s playing the Resident Evils in chronological order and really got used to the methodical, conservative play style that the series had cultivated until now. But once I stopped laughing at the fact that Leon could now kick enemy heads off, I began to appreciate Resident Evil 4′s ultra tight pacing, where nary a moment is wasted and you’re constantly rushing from extravagant set piece to set piece, leaving oodles of bullet shells in your wake. Let me reiterate that the pacing is just so good - you never feel bored, because one minute you’ll be fending off a mutated salamander in a lake, the next you’ll be fighting a giant monster that looks like the Lord of the Rings cave troll, and then you’ll suddenly be confronted with an army of Ganados - Spanish cult members who’ve been taken over by parasitic chestbusters and serve as the replacement zombies of this game - all intent on tossing pitchforks through your spleen. There’s never a moment to rest (I mean that in a good way) and no unnecessary filler distractions, aside from an amusing shooting gallery mini-game that’s available at occasional intervals thanks to Resident Evil 4′s mysterious Merchant, a masked dude with a Cockney accent who always just happens to be around to sell Leon new guns and seems to be above the giant conflict involving cultists that rages around him. (Seriously, who is this guy? He looks like a Ganado but he’s totally chill! Is he an arms dealer manipulating the cultists for profit? Is he Chris Redfield in disguise, watching everything from the sidelines and doing his best My Fair Lady impression as he makes sure that Leon’s in tip-top shape to perform all those suplexes? Is he a representation of GOD?!)

Resident Evil 4 might be 13 years old at this point, but it still holds up, which is perhaps a reason why this game has been ported to damn near everything, even the goshdarned only-available-in-Latin America Zeebo. In fact, it might even be more refreshing to play today than it was in 2005, since nowadays big budget action titles are infected with so much bloat, kind of like the Las Plagas parasites that have infested the Ganados in this game. If Resident Evil 4 were released in this day and age, you can be sure it’d be some sort of open world thing with dozens of side missions and collectible doodads spread all over the map, kind of like the Tomb Raider reboot games, which share a similar vibe of intense action but lack the perfect pacing due to their excessive modern design. At the very least, the extra modes that are unlocked upon completing the main scenario, including two where you play as Ada Wong (who, like Leon, has undergone an action movie evolution from regular spy in Resident Evil 2 to SUPER SEXY CATWOMAN SPY) would most certainly be sold as extra DLC now for 10 bucks each. So for me at least, Resident Evil 4 lived up to the hype and even gained a few bonus points for being a breath of fresh air in 2018. However, while I’m perfectly prepared to accept Resident Evil as an action-orientated franchise from this point forward, I wouldn’t put myself in the camp of people who say the series began with this title, because the old games are still darn good, just different. Nor would I include myself in the group who argue that RE4 killed Resident Evil. The game can’t really be classified as “horror” aside from a few scenes where you’re confronted by Regeneradors, creepy baddies who make disturbing sounds and can regrow their limbs unless you shoot the Las Plagas outta their bodies via infrared scope. (In fact, a lot of RE4 is actually darn goofy, especially Leon’s radio conversations, which are right out of Metal Gear.) But I think the “survival” aspect is still there, just present in a slightly different way. Instead of having to ration out your supplies and avoid zombies hiding around obscured corners, RE4 emphasizes the need to survive by overwhelming you with wave after wave of Ganados, who launch at you from all angles. Turn left, turn right, watch out behind you or else you’ll be grabbed - its all visceral as hell, and once you’ve cleared a room full of foes, you’ll breathe a sigh of relief knowing that you survived.

While the old Resident Evil games created a sense of fear and anticipation, in other words, RE4 creates a sense of thrill and commotion that finally gives way to relief when it’s all over. It’s still a survival game, just of a different breed, and personally, I don’t mind a shift in type as long as it’s done as well as it was here.

All screenshots taken by me. For more, check out this Twitter thread showing my step-by-step progress through the game.

#pixel grotto #video games #now playing #resident evil #biohazard #resident evil 4 #leon kennedy #capcom

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pantstomatch · 8 years ago

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@andromedainwonderland said:

Teen Wolf-Scooby Doo, as in, the Teen Wolf crew driving around in the Jeep solving supernatural mysteries. Just me?

So I don’t know what this is, but this fic turned out to be my ARCH NEMESIS, so, you know, make of that what you will. It’s even alternating POVs, which I haven’t written in years upon years. So please appreciate how much this story wanted to kill me, and how we’re still eyeing each other with open hostility from different corners of the room.

The groundskeeper has gnarled, knotted fingers and rheumy eyes, and it takes five hundred years for him to turn the key in the rusted padlock. The gate creaks almost as loud as his bones, and Derek flicks an ear in irritation.

“That’s a big dog you’ve got there,” he says, only mildly curious.

Stiles buries one hand in the scruff around Derek’s neck. “Not sure he is one,” Stiles says, and Derek cocks his head up at him.

Scott has the van idling behind them.

Derek takes a deep breath and sneezes. Decay, old blood, and sulfur flood his senses—he whines softly. He doesn’t have a good feeling about this.

The old house looms in front of them, stone and spires, ominous, cloaked in shadows thrown by the nearly full moon. His skin ripples under his fur, uneasy, and he tucks his tail between his legs.

“Relax,” Stiles murmurs to him. “This is easy money, right? A simple salt and burn.”

Derek huffs, knocks into Stiles’ side as he hastily turns around, and then slinks back to the van. He doesn’t like this place. He never likes haunted places, too much lingering despair that stirs up old guilt, but this house feels like it’s made out of skeleton bones, dread sits like a stone in his belly.

Lydia already has the side of the van open. He hops in, slides past Kira, and then digs into Stiles’ open duffle, buries his snout in an old t-shirt that smells a little bit like Scott, too.

“Dude,” Stiles says when he climbs in after him. “Come on.”

Derek growls, low in his throat, and Stiles backs off with a huffy, “Fine, be that way.”

The van grinds into gear and rolls forward slowly, tires bumping over the cobblestone drive, and Derek feels like his chest is caving in.

Stiles doesn’t know why he gets to be Keeper of the Wolf: official title. Wolf doesn’t seem to particularly like any of them, is the thing, except Stiles is generally the only person he’ll even remotely listen to—barring Scott’s Alpha Voice, which he rarely, if ever, uses—and more often than not Wolf just… follows Stiles around.

It’s not like Stiles can’t guess who he is. He’s a traumatized Hale relation, obviously, since they found him two months ago living in filth and sadness in the shell of the old Hale house—and hadn’t that been a fun job, with a half-feral werewolf trying to thwart all their plans to lay the Hales to rest. Granted, they’d been hired by a contractor to help tear the place down. The ghosts were the peaceful part of that deal.

Nobody had warned them about the locally famed Demon Wolf that guarded the place.

They’d had a couple things to their advantage, though. The really big one being Scott’s True Alpha status, and the astoundingly effective way it made Wolf come to heel. Their backup plan had included Kira calling down lightning and Stiles’ stash of mountain ash, and he’s really happy they didn’t actually have to use that, in retrospect.

Wolf has a sensitive nose and a deep-seated fear of thunder storms.

This house, the North Mansion, has been languishing on the real estate market for over five years, and the current owner’s sick of all potential buyers getting chased off.

It could be raccoons—that’s happened before—but going by Wolf’s reaction, Stiles is leaning a little more toward malicious poltergeist.

He rubs his hands together in anticipation as they pull up to the top of the curved drive. They haven’t had a good old exorcism for a while. This is going to be fun.

Even though Derek wants to hide away in the van for the entire job, he only hesitates a moment to follow when everyone else clambers out. He keeps low to the ground, gaze dipped, and seeks out Stiles by scent.

Stiles rubs one of his ears between his fingers, and Derek noses the back of his knee.

Lydia says, “Huh,” and Derek finally looks up just in time to see her stuff her phone back into the purse she has slung over her shoulder.

“What?” Kira says, glancing around wildly. “Does anyone else think this house is, like, extra creepy?”

Derek woofs in agreement.

And then the door slowly creaks open on its own.

Stiles says, “Cool,” with a stupid amount of enthusiasm, and Derek bites into his jeans to keep him from just flouncing inside. “Ow, what the fuck, dude?”

Stiles tries to shake him off, but Derek feels like he’s being watched, the hair down the middle of his back bristles, and his lips open up into a soundless snarl around the caught denim.

Kira’s eyes flare orange and a light beyond the doorway flickers on.

“No, wait,” Scott says, a hand on Lydia’s arm. “What do you mean by huh?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Lydia says, hands on her hips. She looks at the open door, tilts her head back to gaze up the slick, moss covered stone. “Ask me again after we step inside.”

There’s an elaborate wolf head carved into a knocker on the door, elongated canines carefully fit around a metal ring.

Derek’s ears flatten against his head. He can hear the echo of phantom howls, and he lets go of Stiles’ jeans to press closer to his legs.

Stiles stumbles under his weight, says, “Whoa, Wolf,” and lets him huddle between his feet, hastily balancing into a crouch over him.

Derek only relaxes minutely under the hands on his head and back.

Something wrong happened here.

There are too many dead, and all of them are angry.

Lydia freezes in the front foyer at the bottom of a wide staircase, eyes glazing over, fingers curled into Stiles’ arm. Her nails dig into his skin hard enough to cut, and he wraps his other hand around her wrist to ground her.

“What is it?” Scott says.

The air inside is cold. Stiles doesn’t hear the dead, not like Lydia, at least, but he can tell when the space is so packed with spirits no warmth can touch it.

He can see his breath, and Wolf shivers beside him.

It’s oppressive, and Wolf backs up onto his haunches, like he’s ready to bolt.

Lydia’s voice does the eerie doubling thing, like two of her are talking at once. “The wolves,” she says, words echoing off the marble tiled floor. “They slaughtered them all.”

“Hunters?” Stiles says. They’ve had the displeasure of coming across many a hunter over the past couple years—a ragtag group of supernaturals solving mysteries attracts an unsurprising amount of attention. They always leave an unpleasant taste in his mouth.

“No,” Lydia says, and then shakes off the voice with a slight stumble of step that she’s visibly annoyed by. She straightens and tugs down her shirt and clears her throat.

“Who was it?” Kira says. She’s poking around the light fixtures, and then the hallway to the left lights up, bulbs glowing one by one down the long corridor. She grins brightly and does a fist pump.

“I’m—“ Lydia’s perfect brow wrinkles a little. “Wolves?”

Wolf’s ears suddenly prick up, and he lurches forward, nose in the air.

Scott’s fangs drop and his eyes flash red. He says, “Someone’s in here. Alive.”

All the lightbulbs explode at once, and Kira says, “Sorry,” just before Derek gets thrown back against a wall.

His head spins, there’s a pressure in his chest keeping him pinned in the corner of the foyer, paws scrambling uselessly on the floor.

Stiles yells, “Why do we always fucking do this at night, how come that’s a thing?” and then Derek’s temporarily blinded by the beams of three flashlights.

The vice grip on his chest travels up to his throat, invisible hands forcing his head back. He lets out a long, drawn out howl. And then the pressure’s just…gone.

Derek sags down onto the floor, heaving panting breaths, whole body wracked with spasms, and then buries his head in Stiles’ lap when he drops down in front of him.

“Hey, big guy, you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Derek says, and then Stiles says, “Holy shit, you can talk!”

Officially, Scott and Stiles started off as supernatural debunkers. Shithead eighteen year olds with a couple gopros, a book of magic lore they’d ‘borrowed’ from Scott’s veterinarian ex-boss, and a YouTube channel. They guilted Scott’s dad into buying them a used van, downloaded a map of haunted places, and set off across the country for a gap year that stretched well past what their parents think is acceptable.

And then Scott got bit by a werewolf off highway 95, they accidentally set Kira free from an Arizona desert prison, and Lydia Martin, Stiles’ high intensity high school crush, aka the smartest and most beautiful woman in puppet land, called him up out of nowhere at 3 am one random Tuesday and nearly blew out his eardrums with a banshee scream and a death omen.

Stiles has business cards introducing himself as a mage, which started off as a token human joke and then got a whole lot real when he figured out how to make himself invisible by sheer wishing and willfulness.

Scott’s veterinarian ex-boss calls him a spark, but Stiles doesn’t feel like spending the money for a reprint.

They no longer film themselves. It’s all a little too damning.

And two months ago they acquired their very own Scooby to round out the mystery gang, never mind that it was a werewolf seemingly very happily stuck in a full shift—so of course, why not, why not have him talk.

“It’s like some storybook Gmork shit, you shouldn’t have the vocal chords for this,” Stiles says, absolutely fascinated as Wolf says, wearily, “Shut up, Stiles.”

“Could you always talk?” Stiles says.

Wolf gets to his feet and licks his chops. His mouth works open and closed, it’s so fucking weird, and then he says, hoarse, “No.”

Derek doesn’t know what’s happening, but he knows it’s probably bad.

His throat feels raw and overworked, like something has rebuilt his insides. He fights down a rising panic, and then a vision in white, a woman that flickers between being viciously scarred and serenely pretty, appears in the middle of the stairs and smiles at him.

He can hear her heartbeat. It’s louder than anyone else’s in the room.

“There,” she says. “Isn’t that better?”

It’s probably really fucking strange that Stiles only notices that Kira and Scott and Lydia are no longer in the room with them when the scary lady starts talking.

Stiles holds up a hand. Salt works for ghosts, but ash works for creatures, and he’s not sure yet what he’s dealing with here.

She grins wider. “I’m sure we can all be nice,” she says. “After all, I did give poor Derek here back his voice.”

Derek, Stiles thinks. Derek Hale, the kid everyone thought actually set the Hale fire all those years ago. Huh.

Derek growls. “It was never missing,” he says. His mouth moves when he talks, and there’s a strange disconnect, like Stiles is watching something break and reform with every impossible word. Wolves’ mouths aren’t shaped for speaking.

“Oh, of course,” she says, face light. “But when you refuse to shift,” she shrugs, “we work with what we have.”

The bigger question, Stiles thinks, is why this crazy lady wants Derek to talk.

“Now, we can all sit down for a nice long chat later,” she says, and her eyeballs get full-on zombie white. “I need to find your meddling friends first.”

Stiles has a brief moment of relief that Scott and Kira and Lydia are purposely missing, hopefully working on a solution to this mess, and then everything goes black.

It’s cold, and Derek curls around Stiles, wriggling his head into Stiles’ chest so he’s nested up against him. Stiles’ warm breath and plodding heartbeat are reassuring.

They’re in the basement, thin planks of wood underneath them, loose boards to cover the dirt—it’s like laying on a block of ice.

The still air is dank, and Derek buries his head against rising whispers. Thin, reedy howls. Cries of anguish, pain, revenge.

She’s got an army of wolves in the house. They’re buried underneath the floorboards.

Stiles groans and shifts against him—his arms tighten around Derek’s neck and then release as he gingerly pushes up onto his elbows. “What happened?” he asks. “Where are we?”

“The basement,” Derek says.

“Crap. That’s never going to stop being weird.” Stiles pokes at Derek’s mouth and Derek snaps his teeth at him.

“Stop it.”

“Okay.” Stiles cradles his head in his hands. “Okay, so what’s the plan, big guy? Wait it out? Hope Scott smokes the lady and rescues us?”

Derek snorts.

Stiles stifles a laugh, says, “Right. Right.” He leans heavily against Derek. “Do we have any idea what’s going on here?”

The chill is tense and thick, like the wolves are standing guard.

Years ago, Derek remembers, certain packs had disappeared. Wiped entirely off the map, leaving gaping holes in the northern California territory. His mom had been nervous about it. He doesn’t think this mass grave is a coincidence.

Derek sniffs the air and says, “Maybe.”

“Wolves,” Derek says, after pacing the length of the basement restlessly.

Stiles narrows his eyes and says, “What?”

Derek pads up to him, drops down close, so they’re touching again. “The ghosts are all werewolves,” he says, clearly irritated.

“Huh,” Stiles says. “So that’s what Lydia meant.” He props his back up against the cold concrete wall, rolls his shoulders against the rough texture and resists running his hand over the ache at the back of his head.

Derek is a soothing wall of furry warmth next to him. Stiles curls his cold fingers into a fist to keep from petting him. He wouldn’t have hesitated before, but it’s a little weird now that he can talk.

“Ghost wolves, ghost lady—”

“She’s not a ghost,” Derek says. “I don’t know what she is, but she’s not dead.”

Probably magical then, Stiles thinks. In charge of ghost wolves and strong enough to take down Derek—Stiles has witnessed Wolf tear a chupacabra to shreds—“So… we’re thinking… witch?”

“The word you’re searching for is Darach, darling,” the woman in question says, feet soundless on the basement steps. “We’re a bit more specialized.” She pauses at the bottom, one hand on her hip, the other skimming lightly over the rickety-looking rail. “Now, Derek, tragically, I see you’re an alpha of none.” Her eyes are shrewd. “There seems to be a lot of that going around.”

Wisps of cool smoke swirl around her legs, coalescing here and there in snaps of teeth, furred snouts and paws with big-ass claws.

“Unfortunately, I can’t use you as bait.” She pouts, a parody of disappointment. “Despite quite a lot of nasty rumors, it seems you didn’t actually kill your entire pack.”

Derek snarls.

Stiles says, warily, “What are you talking about?”

The woman flickers, like a TV with a loose cable, and then her glamor drops to reveal a gray face full of scars, her head and neck slashed—her grin shows off blackened gums, and she says, “I’m talking about revenge.”

Derek shrinks away from the Darach when she leans toward him. He feels Stiles grip the fur on his back, an anchor, and forces his eyes wide when she crouches in front of them.

She says, “Tell me everything you know about Deucalion.”

Derek bares his teeth. “I don’t know anything.”

Stiles gives out a pained cry as she shoots an arm out, blindly squeezing a hand around his throat. Derek’s ears flatten against his skull, listening to the dry rasp of Stiles failing to drag in a breath.

“Talia was a close friend,” she says, impassive. “Your mother was there when the hunters took his eyes.”

Derek had been fourteen and oblivious to almost everything except his first girlfriend. “I don’t know,” he says.

Stiles is choking to death, and the Darach isn’t even looking at him.

“Hmmmm,” she says, and then abruptly releases Stiles—he slumps over Derek, coughing—“Kali?”

Kali, Kali, Derek scrambles for anything, any bit of information he remembers, and blurts out, “She gave me condoms. Once.”

The Darach’s laugh is mean-edged, but breathless. “Julia gave you condoms,” she says, and then drags both hands over her eyes, her mouth; there’s a slump to her shoulders that has Derek freezing in place.

Stiles says, “Derek,” a croak in his voice, and Derek whimpers a warning for him to stay quiet.

“I could make you a man again,” she says, voice muffled. She drops her hands and her glamor is suddenly back in place, brown, wavy hair framing a pale, delicate face. “Would you like that, Derek Hale?” Her fingers lightly play over the fur on Derek’s brow. “To be a real boy?”

“Leave him alone,” Stiles slurs.

She ignores him and says, “I bet you grew up fine.”

Derek doesn’t know how he grew up. Sometimes he doesn’t think he grew up at all. How many years has it been? Six? Ten? Twelve? Everything up to Stiles, and Scott, is pale gray and faded, like old newspaper ink.

“Don’t listen to her, Derek,” Stiles says, as the Darach clucks her tongue, eases fingers over Derek’s right ear.

“I wonder whose fault it really is,” she says idly, “that Argent burned your whole family alive.”

Derek pushes down the hurt and guilt, lets the wolf snap forward and snarl. He whips his head up, catches the thin skin of the Darach’s wrist between his teeth and shakes.

She laughs as he bites down, and pets his head with her other hand.

“Derek,” Stiles says, and Derek bristles, hunches down, coiled in anger with blood in his mouth.

“Derek,” Stiles says again louder, a hint of horror in his tone, and Derek shrugs off his grip, locks his jaws, feels the bones in his mouth crunch and splinter.

And then the Darach says, voice steady, “Good boy,” and Derek—he lets her go with a whimper and a gasp.

Good puppy, Kate would say. Good boy.

The Darach gets to her feet with a cloak of anger wrapped around her, finally turning to narrow her eyes at Stiles. And then:

The door at the top of the steps slams open; Derek’s ears ring from the echo of Lydia’s scream. All the lights burn bright in a sizzle of sparks, and then Scott is slicing through the pack of ghost wolves with an iron fire poker as Kira summersaults through the air to slice off the Darach’s head with her sword.

Stiles says, weakly, “10/10 form there, Yukimura. Would recommend,” before passing out.

Stiles wakes to soft slaps on his face and a concerned Scott hovering over him. He winces at the overhead lights and pushes away Derek’s insistently nudging head.

“I’m up, I’m up,” he says, struggling into a sitting position.

“We need to get out of here,” Scott says. “Can you walk?”

“Sure,” Stiles says. He’s pretty sure he can. Whatever whammy the Darach put on him made his limbs loose and his head rattle, and his throat feels tight and hot—his bruises are going to be spectacular—but he’ll crawl out of there if he has to. Stiles has faced down demons and spectral dragons, but that lady was the worst.

They’re in a salt circle. They’re practically in a salt field, considering the amount they’ve dumped all around them, but Kira is busy prying up floorboards with Derek’s help, so Stiles figures their reasoning is two-fold. “We’re burning the house down,” he says, not really a question.

Scott grins at him, strained at the edges. “We’re burning the house down.”

“What are the odds of us not getting arrested for this?” Stiles asks.

Lydia looks up from where she’s painting containment sigils all over the Darach’s headless body with her lipstick. “Faulty wiring,” she says. “I’ll call Jackson tonight.”

Outside the salt, the ghost wolves are milling, howls rising like echoes in a cavern. Scott leverages Stiles to his feet, and Stiles throws an arm over his shoulder to steady himself.

“We need to get out of here,” Lydia says. “Now.” She caps her lipstick, stuffs it into her purse, then hefts the iron poker Scott had brandished earlier.

Kira tosses the now-empty sack of salt into the corner of the room. She flicks out a lighter and looks over at them. “Want a head start?”

Scott lurches forward under Stiles’ weight. Lydia is already halfway up the stairs, slicing through wolves with the poker, and Scott and Stiles follow right behind, Derek at their heels. He pushes steadily on the back of Stiles’ legs, urging him to go faster.

The fire has already spread to the kitchen by the time they all make it outside.

Dawn is creeping over the tops of the trees and flames are licking out of the second story windows when Lydia finally calls 911.

The smell of smoke makes Derek’s eyes burn and belly cramp, and he worms his way under the van to hide.

He watches Stiles’ beat up sneakers slowly walk toward him before he collapses on the ground by the back tire.

After a long pause of silence, the crack and roar of the fire and the distant echo of sirens the only sound, Stiles says, “She was wrong, you know.” Stiles’ long-fingered hand is pressed flat on the stone next to him, and Derek shuffle-crawls close enough to nudge his nose into his pinky.

He whines.

“I know you don’t believe me,” Stiles says, “but she’s wrong.”

“You don’t even know what happened,” Derek says.

“Well, big guy,” Stiles says, lifting his hand to scratch behind Derek’s ears, “I know who the black sheep of the Argent clan are. And I know you always have my back. I’m pretty confident in my assumption here.” He scratches a little harder, and Derek tilts his head into his hand. “If you ever wanna give me the rundown sometime, though, I’m all ears.”

Derek is quiet through the full moon, and Stiles doesn’t know if that’s because whatever the Darach did to him wore off, or if he just doesn’t have anything to say.

They spend the long night in a motel just outside a preserve, and their resident werewolves scuffle like puppies in the woods. Stiles thinks Scott’s a little disappointed he can’t shift past beta, but he doesn’t seem to let that stop him from joyously running off with Derek every full moon anyhow.

Stiles sleeps in fits and starts, ears straining toward the playful yips and howls—he’s worried, for probably the first time, how Derek is actually doing.

Wolf was such a separate being, a tag-along, a warm body to curl up with. Derek watched his family burn, and then hid for years in the ruins. Stiles isn’t exactly a sensitive soul, but he tends to latch onto people he cares about and never let go. Somehow, Derek has managed to weasel his way into his heart.

At little before dawn, Stiles’ door gets bumped open, and Derek pounces through with a goodbye wave from Scott—Stiles watches sleepily. Derek has his tongue out, panting, and his tail and furry butt wag as he prances toward the bed.

Stiles yawns around, “Have a good time?”

The mattress shakes as Derek jumps up and spins in a circle, letting out a humph as he drops down in the bend of Stiles’ knees.

Derek stares down at his hands, bigger than he remembers. Hairier. The muscles in his legs feel strange. He wiggles his narrow feet against the rough carpet, fascinated with the knobs of his ankles. The sheer difference in the width of his chest has him purposely heaving breaths, rolling his shoulders. He remembers lean arms and peach fuzz—he palms the side of his face and thinks he probably needs to shave.

Behind him, Stiles stretches awake. He says, “Der—“ and cuts off with a yelp, a, “Holy fuck,” and a muffled thump as he rolls off the other side of the bed.

Derek grins into the mirror propped over the dresser across the room. His cheeks puff out and his ears flush.

“Derek?”

Derek turns to look over his shoulder at Stiles, huddled in all the sheets pulled off the bed, hair sticking up every which way, eyes impossibly wide as he clutches the side of the mattress.

“Derek?” Stiles says again.

Derek says, “Hey.”

Stiles can’t stop looking at Derek. Scott’s shirt fits him pretty good, but Stiles’ pants are tight across his thighs—Stiles watches Derek’s hands curl and uncurl against the fabric.

“Dude,” Scott says, flicking him a glance through the rearview mirror. “Stop making it weird.”

“I can’t help it!” The whole situation is already weird; this is not Stiles’ fault.

Because Derek Hale is hot. Derek Hale is surface-of-the-sun hot, but Derek Hale is also quiet, slightly awkward in his skin, and keeps making aborted movements toward Stiles, like he wants to rub up against him. Stiles tends to freeze when that happens, buzzing with nerves and anticipation, causing Derek to soundlessly back off, even though that’s the exact opposite of what Stiles actually wants him to do. He can’t quite bring himself to say that out loud.

Lydia had been all narrow eyes and questions that morning over breakfast, but now she’s adopted a bored-with-it air, riding shotgun, bare feet curled up on the dash, concentrating on making sure the government knows Derek is still alive.

Kira had been trapped underground for three hundred years before they found her. She’d shaken Derek’s hand with a sunny smile and offered him half of her share of bacon. Currently, she’s calling up possible clients in the way-back seat with her regular cheerful zeal.

Stiles’ hands desperately want to pet Derek, rub over an arm, slide fingers through the hair at his nape, but his mind keeps flashing warning signs to back off. Derek is not a dog.

It’s like Stiles’ brain and body aren’t syncing up, and the strain of holding back is exhausting. Finally, in the heat of the late afternoon, Stiles can’t take it anymore. He slumps into his seat, presses his shoulder against Derek’s, carelessly knocking their knees together. The rocking of the van over the stretch of route 66 lulls him into a waking coma, he blinks against flashing trees and long dashes of beige. He doesn’t even fully register it when Derek worms his hand into his and holds on.

When they’re working, Derek still prefers to stay a wolf.

He tells Stiles it’s because his senses are keener, when really he feels like he’s layered in armor—he has sharp teeth and big claws and the only creatures that don’t seem impressed by that are the family of opossums they find in the attic of a house in Nevada.

He tells himself it isn’t because when he’s a wolf, Stiles finally relaxes around him again.

Whatever the Darach did to his canine throat had disappeared with his first shift. At first, Stiles had seemed disappointed, but then it was business as usual—salt and burn the ghosts, exorcise the demons, keep out of the way of anything fae, call an exterminator for the snakes and raccoons.

“Bats,” Stiles says, wrapping his arms around his chest and shoving hands up into his armpits. He has a sluggishly bleeding scrape on his forehead and a sour expression. “I hate bats.”

Derek woofs and licks his forearm.

“Come on,” Scott says. He slaps Stiles on the back as he hops down the front stoop. “Let’s get something to eat. And then we can go home.”

Stiles’ face lights up at the word, and something hot squeezes around Derek’s heart.

Their last job bought them close enough to Beacon Hills to justify a detour home, one they try to manage at least once every couple months. The last time was when they were on their way to the Hale job, just outside Beacon County.

Stiles is irrationally disappointed when Derek refuses to shake off his fur to meet his dad.

He understands it, is the thing. He totally gets why Derek tries to hide behind his legs when his dad pulls him into a hug at the front door.

He gets why he lies under the kitchen table during dinner, and then flops down across his feet in his tiny twin bed.

Stiles says, “I’m not going to be able to feel my feet in the morning,” and Derek just grunts, squirms over onto his back to really dig into Stiles’ ankles, legs playfully kicking at the air.

His dad knocks on the half open door, eyes them both, and says, “I somehow expected this to be less weird.”

Derek rolls up onto his haunches, ears alert, half the covers pulled down around his paws.

Dad points at them and says, “Let’s all try to be human for breakfast, okay?” and then wanders off down the hall, muttering to himself about dang werewolves.

Derek huffs and hides under the blanket, and won’t budge no matter how hard Stiles kicks him in the head.

Somehow, it’s always been easier to sleep on the road than at home—curled up in the van, sharing dumpy motel rooms. He has too much energy, most nights, to have any sort of restful sleep if he’s not bone-deep exhausted from the day.

He stares at the ceiling of his old bedroom, pinned down by Derek’s weight. He doesn’t think Derek’s sleeping either.

He says, “It’s only for a couple days,” into the darkness, and isn’t all that surprised when Derek doesn’t make a sound in answer.

When he finally drifts off, eyelids falling heavy against the moon shadows lengthening across his ceiling, Stiles dreams of the Hale house.

Of the burned-out husk, the ash-gray of the front veranda, the moldering charred remains of a house that was, miraculously, mostly still standing. The fire had been localized in the back of the house, like a bomb went off where the kitchen used to be. The door leading to the basement hanging off its hinges. Lydia wouldn’t go near it.

He dreams of red eyes, like a crouching demon in the dark.

He dreams of howls, thin and plaintive, round and angry, and when he wakes up, panting, the ghost of hot breaths and sharp fangs against his skin, fingers clenched in his messy sheets, Derek is gone.

The call is familiar, like an old ache, and Derek shoves open Stiles’ window and slips outside. He hops to the ground and leaps back into the wolf, digging his back claws into the soft dirt, scraping long grooves into the grass. He scales the fence with a brush of his underbelly against rough slats, and then he pauses, ears up.

The howl is long, mournful, and faint, and Derek knows it’s traveling over miles.

He glances back at the house once, dark and quiet, and then sets off through the woods, hope and wonder lengthening his strides.

They wait a week; three days longer than they’d planned to stay. Even Lydia is getting restless, and finally Stiles folds and they pack up the van: extra food from Melissa, two more books from Deaton—given freely, this time, along with a small supply of animal tranqs—and brand new socks and underwear for all. It’s like they’re on tour, except instead of being in a band, they save the world from supernatural creatures and possible rabies.

Scott gives Stiles not-very-encouraging smiles, and by the time Beacon Hills is fading from their rearview mirror, Stiles has a halfway formed plan in his head that involves a very small detour to the Hale house that’ll only put them another day behind.

“No,” Lydia says.

“What’s another day, we’re already late!” Stiles says. “What if something’s wrong?”

“We got rid of everything that was wrong there,” Lydia says, one eyebrow arched pointedly. “I told the DeMattos we’d be there the day after tomorrow.”

Scott stays silent, mouth pressed closed, and Kira is shooting everyone indecisive puppy-eyes.

Finally, Scott sighs and says, “Look. Look, Stiles, I know how you feel, man, but Derek knows how to find us, okay? He’s got a phone and everything now.”

“He left his phone when he ran away from my house naked,” Stiles says. Naked, wolf, same thing. He left his duffle with every single piece of his clothing in it; Stiles very shamelessly rifled through it before tossing it in the back of the van. He sinks down low in his seat and crosses his arms over his chest, biting his lip. “What if something’s wrong,” he says again.

“He’s a grown wolf,” Lydia says primly. Then she leans over and squeezes Stiles’ leg. “He’s going to be fine. And if we haven’t heard from him by the time we finish with the DeMattos, we can come back and check.”

The house has a very distinctive smell: a mixture of mold, ash and despair. Derek didn’t realize how used to it he’d become over the years. Now, it makes his nose twitch and burn, the fur on his back prickle with unease.

There’s a woman sitting on the porch steps, dark hair pulled back into a low ponytail. Derek pauses just outside the tree line, crouching in weeds and wildflowers, watching.

Her head jerks up, eye’s narrowing in prickly rage, a flash of gold, and then a split-second later they round with disbelief. “Derek?” she says.

Derek slinks forward, belly low to the ground.

Cora—this is Cora, all sharp cheekbones and thin wrists—slowly stands up, arms falling limply to her sides. The last time Derek saw Cora she’d just turned eleven, baby pudge still soft on her face, and Derek thought she’d died in the fire. Derek doesn’t know what to make of her now.

She says, voice hoarse, “I heard they were going to knock it down.”

Derek wants to say: they tried.

He wants to say: Stiles wouldn’t let them and I’m sorry.

Instead, he huddles at Cora’s feet and pushes his head into her hand.

“What the fuck, Derek,” Cora says, and then drops to her knees, wraps her arms around his neck, and buries her face in his fur. “I thought you were dead, asshole.”

Derek whimpers and licks at her wet cheek.

The DeMattos have an amusement park problem. Various eye-witnesses describe a slimy swamp-like monster that rises out of the pond around the Tunnel O’ Love, but Stiles’ money is on a bunch of stoned kids fucking with them.

“This is classic Scooby Doo shenanigans,” Stiles says, waving his flashlight around. “All we need is the Harlem Globetrotters and Don Knotts to show up.”

It’s weird, he feels strangely vulnerable without Derek’s furry presence at his side, despite having done this for years before they found him.

Normally, this kind of job would be awesome—spooky abandoned amusement park, chockfull of expired corn dogs, paint-peeled clown statues that hilariously freak out Scott, and the rickety spires of roller coasters that have an eighty percent chance of actually killing someone. The greater worry here is the risk of getting lockjaw, not getting eaten by a swamp monster.

There’s no such thing as a swamp monster anyway.

Stiles kicks at some gravel and tries not to pout.

He keeps checking his phone, like Derek’ll call him even though his phone is still buried at the bottom of his bag in the back of the van.

Kira says, “Okay, but do you think they’re hiding a weed crop or a meth lab?” as the two of them examine the control panel for the Tunnel O’ Love. She wiggles her fingers and the lights flicker and burn, a loop of plinky carnival music starts up, and half-sunk swan boats clunk into each other at the dock.

“Why would anyone want to reopen this fun house of horrors?” Stiles says. “They should just leave it to the local swamp monsters. Wanna set something on fire?”

“That’s arson, Stiles,” Kira says, but she looks intrigued.

They’re gonna get a reputation.

“Scott would be mad,” Stiles says.

They stare at each other.

“Lydia would be furious,” Kira says.

The loudspeaker across the park suddenly crackles on, echoing demented clown laughter all over the grounds, and in the distance: baying hounds.

Stiles cocks his head. “That’s a weird combination,” he says absently. “That’s weird, right?”

“Stiles,” Kira says, grabbing his arm and shaking him. “Stiles, look.”

While the presence of a hulking, oozing man-shaped mass sloping toward them could be the result of Stiles getting too little sleep in the days since Derek disappeared, it’s kind of tough to argue that when Kira can see it too.

Kira says, “Oh no,” and Stiles takes an unsteady step backward. Both of their hands are raised, Kira with electricity jumping from finger to finger, Stiles pooling wishes in his palms.

And then the dock makes an ominous crack and Stiles goes flailing into the murky Tunnel O’ Love pond.

“Oh, gross,” he says, coughing and swiping suspiciously slimy water off his face. He can’t see anything beyond the broken planks overhead, but he hears Kira yell, “Fuck you, motherfucker!” which is, like—he winces to himself, Kira’s cursing usually consists of liberal use of poop with some grandmotherly dang-its thrown in for good measure.

He’s just about pulled himself back up onto dry ground when a familiar fur-face barrels into him and accidentally—hopefully—pushes him back in.

Stiles smells like gasoline and sludge and old corn dogs, but it doesn’t make Derek back off.

Cora huffs at him, wrinkles her nose and then retreats a good distance away, where Scott is tying up three teenagers who are high as kites and laughing their asses off.

Stiles wraps himself around Derek and says, “Oh my god, you tried to kill me,” but he has his face planted in Derek’s side, so Derek’s pretty sure he knows it was an accident.

One Cora will never let him live down.

He didn’t expect to miss Stiles this much, especially after finding Cora. But there’s a weird tentativeness between him and Cora that didn’t exist ten years ago, and he has no idea how to make it go away—or if it ever will.

They’ve spent their nights curled up together as wolves, but traveling miles apart during the day, keeping track of each other by howls.

Stiles hugs him tight and says, “Hey, Wolf, hey,” and murmurs, “Missed you,” and the bright flush of embarrassment and pleasure make him warm all over.

When they finally make it over to the others, Lydia has her phone out and Scott gives Kira a high five, and then everyone stares at Cora—she has her head held high, ears pricked, and only Derek and maybe Scott can tell it’s more from apprehension than disdain.

Stiles says, “Who the heck is that beauty,” with an exaggerated wink at Cora and Cora snaps her teeth at him. He holds up his hands and says, “Alright, Lady Wolf, cool your heels and watch your fangs.”

Cora growls, low in her throat.

Stiles says, “I’ve dealt with Grumpy for over two months, I can handle a little Surly,” with the hint of a waver in his voice that makes Derek maneuver himself fully in front of him and stare Cora down.

Cora as a wolf is lean, red and rangy, taller at the haunches than Derek, faster, if push came to shove, but without his muscle bulk and his terrible stubborn willingness to protect Stiles at all cost.

Cora dips her head, though, pads forward to rub her cheek along his.

“Aww, isn’t that adorable?” Stiles says. “Hey, Scotty, how come you can’t go all full wolf?”

Cora silently bares her teeth at him and then transforms into human shape with a fluidity Derek envies, a smirk firmly affixed on her face. “Because he wasn’t born one.”

“So that’s your sister,” Stiles says, cupping his hands around a warm mug of coffee. He won’t admit to being briefly jealous of Derek’s new lady friend, but he thinks maybe Derek knows about that anyhow. “Also, I mean, there’s no tactful way to say this, but… I thought she was dead?”

Derek shrugs, picking apart his muffin with his fingers. “You thought I was dead, too.”

True, true, Stiles nods, pretty much all of the Hales were presumed dead, given that no one knew they could turn into large hairy wolves. “You, though,” he grimaces, “the famed Demon Wolf of the woods—we know where you were hanging all those years. Where’s she been?”

Derek’s muffin is massacred on his napkin, Stiles is pretty sure none of it ever made it to his mouth.

Derek says, “I don’t know,” shoulders hunched in to make him look smaller.

It should be ridiculous, Derek’s muscles have muscles, but it just makes Stiles want to press his palms into the back of Derek’s neck and let him hide his face against Stiles’ chest. Stiles keeps his hands to himself, though, because Stiles is a gentleman, and Derek only seems to invite pets when he’s got four paws and a tail.

Stiles could sing songs about his spring green eyes and the way they change color in the sun, but he does not.

He could write poetry about the careful fold of his shirt cuffs over his forearms.

He shifts in his seat, lets go of his coffee cup to tap his fingers on the table. He bounces his leg and feels weird about the way the gang is three tables away, giving them some semblance of privacy—that Stiles is staunchly pretending he doesn’t know why they need, ignoring Kira’s exaggerated winks—and he can only thank mother moon that Cora is back at the motel getting a shower, because he’s pretty sure she’d be able to feel his emotions spilling all over the place.

Someone needs to put him out of his misery here.

Derek’s chest expands on a big breath. He says, “She wants me to go back with her.”

Stiles freezes. “You don’t even know where she’s been all these years, but you’re going to leave for parts unknown with her?” He shoves a hand through his hair. “What, did you come find us just to say goodbye? Jesus Christ, Derek.”

Derek’s eyebrows slant down, mouth frowning. “She’s my sister.”

“Yeah? A sister who abandoned you—”

“She was eleven,” Derek says, voice rising.

“And it’s been over a decade, Derek, she didn’t stay eleven, did she?” Stiles pushes back his chair, it makes a screeching noise that echoes around the small cafe—Scott glances over, alarmed, but Stiles holds a hand out to stop him from coming over. He takes a deep breath. “Look,” he says finally, “I get it, okay? We’re just—“ he flops a hand between them, trying hard not to let on that his heart is breaking, what the fuck, “—you do what you gotta do. I guess maybe I’ll see you around. Sometime.”

Scott is giving him big, worried eyes when he moves past their table, but Stiles just shakes his head, he doesn’t want anyone following him right now.

It’s ridiculous and it’s total crap, and he’s a big boy. He can handle this.

Fuck.

Cora finds Derek sitting on top of a picnic table around the side of the motel. It’s almost sunset. He can hear the van idling in the parking lot as the gang packs up their things.

They have a job on the east coast. They need to start moving soon.

Cora hops up on the worn wood next to him and bumps their shoulders. She prefers to be human, she’s told him, and she seems a lot more comfortable around him than when she’s a wolf. When her instincts take over. He’s not sure what that says about them—he doesn’t think it’s anything good.

“You ready to go?” she says.

Derek shoots her a glance, but she’s not looking at him. She has her hands on her knees and her face to the sky.

The sun is low and golden. There are darkening clouds to the east, a storm rolling in. The wind picks up and ruffles the ends of his too-long hair.

Cora’s hair is a mess to her shoulders, framing a solemn mouth and rueful eyes. She plucks at his shirt, a playful tug on his sleeve, and suddenly: she’s ten and needling him for the last of his pancakes. Nine and using her doe eyes to borrow his precious comics. Seven and hiding with him in the attic after using up all of Laura’s lipstick.

He’s ready, he thinks, and opens his mouth and says, “No.”

It doesn’t take very long to pack up, but Stiles drags his feet. He dumps his bag out on the bed and methodically separates his clothes into clean, relatively clean, and dirty piles. He wipes down his deodorant, trashes his last toothbrush, throws out the boxers he was wearing when he fell into the amusement park pond.

Derek’s duffle is zipped up and sitting on the floor by the door, mocking him.

Scott peeks around the doorjamb and says, “We need to get at least six hours of driving in today, dude,” with an apologetic frown.

Stiles sighs. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” he says, and then sweeps up all his piles together and stuffs them haphazardly in his bag.

He leaves the door open, for Derek, and then shoves his bag in the back of the van, under the seats.

Kira’s already in shotgun and Lydia’s got the wheel. She’s far too classy to make impatient noises, but she glares at him and his sloth-like speed as he hefts himself through the side door.

It’s just… he’d been hoping to say goodbye to Derek again. He hates that he made it weird.

And then Scott says, “Whoa, hey,” and a massive black wolf pushes past him to scramble in the van—he sits on his haunches directly behind Lydia and gives Stiles and Scott an innocent well, what are you waiting for look, and it’s—

Stiles doesn’t bother trying to stop the wide grin he can feel blooming across his face.

“There better be room for me,” Cora says from behind them.

Stiles whips around to see her lugging Derek’s bag with a resigned expression. She says, “I’ll need to stop for clothes,” knocking Scott to the side.

“No, really, what’s going on?” Stiles says before he can stop himself.

Derek huffs.

Cora wrinkles her nose and says, “Derek thinks McCall here is his alpha.”

“Can alphas have alphas?” Stiles says. “Is that a thing? Wait, you know what, I don’t actually care.” He thumps his butt down next to Derek and feels his warmth all along his side.

Scott pulls the door shut behind himself before joining Cora in the way-back.

Lydia says, “Seatbelts, please,” like none of this is odd, and then they’re off.

They play musical chairs at the next rest stop, and Derek ends up next to Cora in the third row of seats.

It’s full dark, and he stares at the moon outside the window, feels Cora sigh and shift and pointedly not say anything.

Derek waits her out.

Finally, she says, soft, “Satomi took me in.”

Derek tenses, watches Cora’s reflection in the window.

“I was in the attic,” she went on. “Dad tossed me out the dormer before going down to help everyone else. He took Teddy, because he wouldn’t have survived the fall.”

Derek’s chest is tight, and his eyes burn.

She says, “You were napping in your room,” a hitch in her breath. “I remember. I remember you snapped at us to leave you alone, and then I never saw you again.”

Derek blindly gropes for her hand and squeezes.

“I went to Dad’s family, in South America. The pack Cousin James married into.” Derek can feel her shrug, stiff and forced. “And then you know the rest.”

They’re quiet again for a while. Stiles is in front of them, head tipped back and snoring.

After a few long moments he slips his sweaty hand out of hers and says, “Thanks.”

She arches an eyebrow at him.

“For coming with me,” he clarifies. He gives an aborted wave toward Stiles and she snorts.

She snorts and then covers her mouth with the back of her hand, failing to hide a smile, and says, “Good luck with that. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Derek has no idea what he’s doing, but he thinks that’s okay.

“You don’t really think Scott’s your alpha, do you?” Stiles says, curled up on a bed in the cheapest motel they could find outside of Tucson, watching through the mottled window as the sun creeps up over the horizon.

“You’re fishing,” Derek says, voice sleep-rough.

Stiles rolls over to look at him. At some point in the middle of the night, Derek had slipped from wolf to man. He’s got his head pillowed on a massive bicep, the sheet tucked just over his hip, and Stiles tries to keep his eyes firmly on Derek’s face. It’s not a hardship. Derek has pillow creases on his cheek, enough dark scruff to be officially dubbed a beard, and a soft smile on his lips.

“Answer the question, Wolf,” Stiles says, poking the divot in Derek’s chin with a finger.

“Yes, Stiles, I really think Scott is my alpha,” he says, but he curls his hand around Stiles’ and slowly drags it down his throat—Stiles fans his fingers out and swallows dry.

“Okay,” Stiles says, nodding slowly. “Okay, but you’re an alpha too, so how does that—”

Derek’s other hand fists in the front of his t-shirt and Stiles flails a little with a squawk of surprise, and then Derek’s mouth is opening up under his and—okay. Okay.

Stiles shakes his hands out of Derek’s grip and threads his fingers into Derek’s hair, pressing up against him with a groan. This is all good, right? This is like—Stiles has no idea what’s happening, but everything is a-okay with him. There’s the hot slide of Derek’s naked muscles underneath him, basically the only thing holding Stiles back right now is the tangle of sheets around his legs.

And then there’s a pounding on their door and Cora shouting through the thin wood: “Hurry up, Losers!”

Stiles backs off of Derek with wide eyes, leverages up with his palms flat on Derek’s chest. “That was…” He trails off, not sure what to say.

Derek blinks blearily up at him. His soft grin is even softer. Derek is like a puzzle within a puzzle—his tragic past, his dark years, the way he looks at Stiles, sometimes, like Stiles is some kind of hero, like Stiles could be his whole world.

That’s a lot of pressure to put on a twenty-something dude who fights supernatural baddies for pennies and still gets an allowance from his dad.

Stiles stares at him, and the longer Stiles stays quiet, the more concern creeps into Derek’s eyes.

Stiles straightens up and away, kicking his legs out of the sheets to crisscross in front of him.

Derek shifts on the mattress, a dull flush on his ears, says, “Stiles, you don’t—” just as Stiles says, “I hope you realize this makes us boyfriends.”

He’s not going to have rules, like Derek has to be human with him eighty percent of the day—impossible to expect—or Derek can’t rip out the throats of his enemies to protect him—because that’s badass, even if Stiles can take care of himself.

But they’ve kissed, Derek kissed him, boyfriends is non-negotiable.

One of Derek’s hands curls over his bare knee. “Okay,” he says.

“Right, uh,” Stiles clears his throat, jerks his gaze away from the dip of the sheet at Derek’s groin, the smooth skin of his throat, the curve of his jaw under his ear, “we better get a move on. Before Cora turns the hose on us.”

Derek moves up onto an elbow and cocks his head—Stiles manfully resists inserting a dog joke—and his blush becomes more pronounced, grin sheepish. “Scott’s, uh, lecturing her on patience and privacy. They’re going to breakfast without us.”

Stiles says, “Oh, good,” and tackles Derek back onto the bed.

Derek laughs into his mouth. “Slow down,” he says. “We’ve got a while.”

#tumblr prompt #my fic #scooby doo #sterek #teen wolf #andromedainwonderland #I still want to murder this fic #tumblr prompts

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thegeminisage · 8 years ago

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time for MORE ZELDABLOGGING hell yeah today’s stream of consciousness:

i’ve decided that i wanna go south bc like im never gonna catch up with my brother and im Not in the mood to do heat-resistence stuff so i might as well see a thing he hasn’t, right?!

if i get too bored i can always turn around and go north!!

furthermore he’s getting closer to hyrule castle and i dont wanna lol

fast traveled to the dueling peaks and found the tower already

ooh and lake hylia is south as well! tho ofc im doing the southeast one first

and i’ll probably get tired of storyless exploring before i get out that far hahaha

wow the tower is close to the border, i can see the lake hylia province from here

there’s an Immense palm tree lookin jungle and i think i see a giant armos?

but the mountains divide it pretty neatly so it looks to be an easy walk assuming those guardian statues don’t move

ah. of course they move.

at least they can’t get up and walk around :|

too bad you can’t play around in the menu while you wait out rain. i’d rewatch m memories and shit

i climbed this one red looking cliff and the sky went green and the weather changed to all cloudy forever so im probably about to die

and just like that, glided to the tower. easy peasy

ah, the faron province!! cooool

ah wow!! it’s bigger than i realized *w*

watching a lightning storm from one of these towers is fucking terrifying

that lightning does Not fuck around

the maddening thing about this game is seeing so much cool shit in the distance and you can’t check it out yet, or it would be such hard work

i see some glowy shit and a giant pink tree and i wanna explore everything but also it’s so Much

it’s kind of creepy out here :/ maybe i want to go do story after all lol

im ging back to the shrine you hang glide off of so i can start from somewhere familiar >_>

idk why im so cautious playing this game. like. its a game. its not like it can hurt me

im having trauma flashbacks looking at eventide island

wait is this a

i hear town music!!! omg omg

PEOPLE ;_;

ohhhh my gosh what a beautiful peaceful beachside town

reminds me of bodhum/new bodhum and bits and piece of ff11, which i say with the greatest reluctance

i love everyone in this village just bc they are here

oh god it’s so beautiful i love beaches so much i want to live here

oh my gosh there’s a gerudo here!!!!!! OH MY GOD I HAVEN’T SEEN YOU SINCE MM TALK TO ME

she’s asleep in the inn lol

oh hey the painter dude is here too

some of these hylian npcs are poc which is so do cool and overdue

ooh a chest game

i lost lmao

OH MY GOD

the gerudo lady is awake and she is. so tall oh my god

im gay

i am Gay

I Am Gay

oh, man. oh man

are they all so beautiful. so Strong. good god

i wish this village was bigger i could have happily stayed here for hours

omg

someone a long time ago was standing on a mountain that looked like a broken heart and was like, is this not the place to find your soulmate…? but i haven’t found mine yet

someone mentioned a similar legend here and on the map i see a mountain with a whole heart on it pfffft

im so sick of seeing these stone cirlces everywhere…i can’t blow them up..what do you DO with them? complete the pattern maybe??

oh my god it worked

i’ve passed by so many…how will i ever get all these seeds……..

i know the game wants me to sail here but i hate sailing, it’s tedious, i want to control my boat with the fucking control stick

holy fuck dude the sword im using is so strong?? it cut down a palm in a single swipe!!

the longer i play the more i hate the blood moon

oh no i found a hinox

i was going to avoid him but he has an orb….

idk where it goes tho so there’s no point there’s no point the blood moon will bring him back okay Okay

hes a red one anyway so no big, when the time comes

oh my god ANOTHER hinox with an orb

i bet they go to the twin shrines near the village

but i’m supposed to find a tablet before i do that…….i don’t wanna skip another quest like the zora helm also thats a Long walk jesus christ

NNNONONONO GOD

GUARDIAN THAT CAN WALK OVER THERE NO FUCKING THANKS SO GLAD IT DIDN’T SEE ME

so fucking glad

exploring is so dangerous Why

why do i suck SO much at combat

oooh a bokoblin camp with a black mobiln :/ Yikes

aaand bomb arrows takes care of THAT

i love seeing farosh flying around here but i can NEVER CATCH HIM

i was just a few minutes too late to getting him at a really good spot

but the dragons seem to take the same route over 24h, so there’s that

oh hey im back at green cloud plateau

okay Um am i crazy or did i just hear something roar? was that the wind??

oh god i see a question mark from here something already knows im close

oh ogd oh god why i bet it’s big and awful

IT’S A LYNEL LOL

i dont have any healing or defense stuff no way

oh no i think there’s a shrine up there where he is ): but i can’t get it

AND A HINOX RIGHT NEXT TO HIM? NO THANKS LOL

jesus i knew i’d die here

at least there’s no orb on this one

oh noooo more lightning god the storms here are brutal

omg i found shelter behind a waterfall and there’s the shrine i was sensing!! yes!!!!!

holy fuck im not safe here either i nearly just got fried

in the shrine we go holy shit

may the weather be better when i get out

damn i keep finding ore today… #blessed

I SAW FAROSH AGAIN HE WAS SO CLOSE BUT I WAS STILL TOO SLOW…okay they DEFINITELY take the same route everyday i think

or at least if not at the same time, the same places

ugh i went over to this one place and the weather turned to all lightning forever

KASS? HOLY SHIT DUDE YOU’RE GONNA GET FRIED

im so glad to see him ;_; it’s creepy out here

uh…i think…i have to get struck by lightning…on this hill…oh my god i’ll die???

maybe my lightning rod will work……? please…………..?

aaaaand it did nothing. great. ok

/saves game

……../dons metal armor weapons and shield

LMAO IT WORKED HOLY SHIT

oh my god im alive!!!! i had mipha’s grace just in case but i took an electric elixir

jesus FUCK

yes nice i didnt even have to do anything just get the…chest…….

B R O

i got rubber tights!!! electric resistance!!!!! NICE

ah and when i came out the storm was over :3

but kass is gone ): i wanted to tell him i figured out his song!!!

i knew i should have talked to him before i went in :/

lol i find a boat after playing in the water for 100 years…..not that i wouldve used it, but

aw i met and saved a traveling couple, i’ve saved them before

oh my gosh a STABLE!! all the way out here!!!!

THERE ARE PEOPLE

man i wondered what that couple was doing out in such a remote place

oh wow beedle gave me a single ancient arrow…apparently it deals huge damage even to guardians

maybe this is what the start screen meant by the right tools!!!!

but there’s only one…

robbie from akkala gave it to him…NICE i’ll remember

ah some guy here said there was something glowing at the top of floria waterfall…i gotta check that out

ooh a shrine back here too…nice

god there’s a chest in here that’s REALLY hard to get bc camera angles but it has an ancient core (looked it up) and i need one to upgrade my runes………smh

man…nah. im out. there will be other cores & this is crazy ridiculous

its just the stasis rune anyway and i use that one the least

five big hearty radishes means TWENTY FIVE EXTRA HEARTS

but you can only have a max of 30 lol so

AAAH HERE COMES FAROSH AND IM FINALLY AHEAD OF WHERE HE’LL BE OH MY GOD

I HIT HIM I HIT HIM

I FINALLY GOT A SCALE

almost died for it but. i got it. he throws electricity involuntarily and it’s major stuff i shoulda worn my rubber gear

i kinda wanna wait and see if i can get another……..but i have shit to do

holy shit farosh came back around & i got another scale…wish i could hit his horn

AAAH NO A GIANT STONE THING IS HERE….i have no idea how to fight them im leaving

well idk if the stone thing or the dragon or the shrine was what was supposed to be glowing up here but i don’t see anything new

im almost done exploring this province, actually

gotta walk along one beach and climb the heart mountain and that’s it!

a little tempted to grab my horse since it’s such an easy direct road, but i’d be getting on and off all the time ):

fml there’s a guardian on this beach…pls dont move pls dont pls dont

oh thank god its stuck in the sand

omg there was a chest in the sand but it WASNT A CHEST it was one of those yellow octoroks!!!! but!! i shot it! and got money!!!!!!!! #nice

NOOOO another stone thing!!

but you know the last one took a lot of damage from one accidental bomb so maybe

how do you fight it?? i can’t damage it???

OH OMG THE ORE THING!!! OKAY LET’S DO THIS SHIT let’s go i cooked up so much good food

oh my god i took him down in just a handful of bomb arrows…THATS what ive been running from?

not nearly as scarly as lynel tbh

and i’ve been marking the minibosses on my map so now i can look for jewels there if i ever need to

i found a fuckton in this region but lol i sold them all

i know one great fairy needs 10k rupees and like…..Yikes

im getting pretty good with my bow, i can hit far off targets bc i know how high to aim and shit

i’ve kind of been wondering what happens if you get to the edge of the map

but the wind gets so strong on the beaches i bet you just either run out of stamina if swimming or can’t make the boat get past it if sailing

but what happens if you get to a land edge though…?

i actually dislike getting to edges of maps haha it creeps me out. that disreality unrealization shit. no thanks

in la noire the edges of the map have u-turn streets and you realize the cars are all just on one endless track and no one is in them and no one ever goes home and you start to wonder if this actual universe is a simulation and it freaks you out

anyway.

omfg someone from the yiga clan selling bananas like i actually could have bought some if i wanted LMAO

he actually had me fooled for a moment even though i know what npcs named “traveler” mean

why do they all give me bananas when they die anyway………whats going on with this.

oh my god this dude at the heart shaped pond is in love with this gerudo lady here. and like. same oh my god she’s so Big

but lol you can choose to say “yeah talk to her” or “nope, rival time!”

me: aggressively wants to flirt with the gerudo lady but not in a straight way

pls this cutscene was so cute

but she deserves better than a weirdo like this guy

he like, gave me a twenty, and she fussed at him for being stingy, so then he have me a hundred, and THEN

HE ASKED FOR HIS MONEY BACK LMFAO no way fucknuts

wow and with that im All Done with this province O:

i mean yeah i got quests and shrines to come back and do, but i’ve SEEN everything, yk

maybe now i’ll go up to death mountain haha i feel so slow ): i hope what i saw and did made up for my slow story progress

whoa this weapons guy said he’d remake mipha’s trident if i ever broke it!! what a relief

ah i finally figured out the shrine puzzle by zora’s domain…gotta give that thing a dragon scale. but i like my dragon scales too much so i won’t. maybe later

oh hey the death mountain region tower! that was easy

uhhh what…is that

oh my god a FLYING GUARDIAN are you KIDDING me??? why???????

and they’re everywhere! fantastic!!! my ass is DEAD

oh okay this region is called akkala

at least i get guardian arrows here eventually :|

oh my god ONE SAW ME FUCK

oh my god

I RAN UP TO THE TOWER AND IT’S COVERED IN THE BLIGHT

what is that thing crawling all over death mountain?!

what is happening OH my god!!! so much!! everything!!! all at once!!!!!!!!

wait

that’s the divine beast

oh my god

oh my god.

oh my god it’s so big but even still it looks tiny in comparison to the mountain, oh my god

omg it gets cold up here only at night?? omg

NO there’s a still guardian up here too ;_;

i’m gonna try to kill it!!! good first try it can’t move and there’s cover RIGHT here

second try really but im stronger now

now, i have bomb arrows and lightning rods

ok lightning rod does nothing, bomb arrows dont work in the rain, but i killed it with shock arrows!!

and it wasnt v hard bc i was behind cover the whole time lol

but like, with those arrows - i used maybe 9 or 10? and that was all i used, i threw a couple of bombs at it too i guess

now to figure out how i even get IN here w/ all this gunk…..

fuck a bokoblin near a cooking pot saw me and accidentally set itself on fire lmao

ok i can’t climb past the blight, i tried, but how the fuck do i get rid of it i dont see any eyeballs )))):

……………………….w ait

this bokoblin has a shield with the hylian crest on it. the HYLIAN crest

these ruins have the red carpet with the double line of gold on the side

i’m crying this was someplace special

i don’t know what it was bc it can’t be the temple of time or hyrule castle but it was someplace real i recognize the style of it so faintly and it’s COVERED IN BLIGHT

oh my god………..this is so Much

ah ok a beam fell when i shot the first eyeball and i was like why arent there anymore?? but apparently i can magnesis it

oh wow i found a piece of a room…….totally trashed, jesus christ

must’ve been a lab or library

omg its thundering outside…..that has nothing to do with zelda but it makes this creepier

THERE’S A GUARDIAN AT THE TOP SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF ME

its not alive tho thank christ

jesus fuck the divine beast is SO BIG and the mountain is still SO MUCH BIGGER i feel so tiny every time i look

anyway it’s 5am and there’s lightning so i gotta unplug for many reasons, this is a fine stopping place, can’t wait to get my ass kicked by that thing and rescue a goron, holy fuck

#loz blogging #botw spoilers #not too spoiler heavy bit a lil bit #personal #snap story incoming #this storm is gonna be a real humdinger #i worry all the time about my aunt's outdoor feral cat colony ):

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rayraylovesbuckybarnes-blog · 8 years ago

Text

The Weird McCall Wolf Moon Part 2

After getting Showered i didn’t do anything with my hair all i did was tie it in a bushy tail i barley had time to do any kind of make up, Scott left like half a hour ago and that’s new for Scott he doesn’t usually care He was favoring his side when i saw him maybe it was from the fall or maybe it was from the one thing i don’t wanna think about “The Alpha” i whisper.

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It took a lot of begging but i managed to get my mum to drive me i just called her mummy and started sucking up to her and finally im in my first class English bleck. Scott’s acting weird and hes got his eye on the new girl as she comes in, someones got a crush then he passes her a pen and she is thinking ‘How did he know?’ so that’s even more reason to put a point on the Alpha theory.

Yay bell ooh Scott’s in his own world time to sneak attack, I tip toe behind him and just as im about to jump on him Stiles has to be there “Hey Raven”.

“I hate you” i glare at him and he looks at me confused They are watching the new girl Allison i think her name is and of course Lydia’s there sucking up because she has nice clothes then the jock freak Jackson Lydia’s boyfriend shows up and starts kissing her, Ugh Jackson and Lydia make me wanna throw up. “ Can someone explain to me how new girl is here all of five minutes and already hanging with Lydia’s cliq” Rebecca says curiously ** That’s her name in this story**.

“ Cause shes hot, beautiful people hurt together’'Stiles so smugly put while staring at Lydia. Scott’s staring at Allison again while Rebecca and stiles are arguing about Lydia never been around a ugly person, Its kinda creepy Scott’s staring i mean. Im reading Lydia’s thoughts and shes thinking about sex,Jackson and party on Friday or Sex with Jackson at the Party on Friday. Lacross practice is soon and Scott wants me to be there he’s convinced hes gonna make first line this year.

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” Ugh why must you drag me here you know i don’t do sporty stuff’’ i loudly complain And of course im ignored,“But if you play i won’t have anyone to talk to on the bench” Stiles was moaning about this from the time it took us to get here until now.“I can’t sit out again my whole life is sitting on the sidelines this year i make first line” Scott’s trying to get his positivity across. I turn around and i see coach throwing gear at Scott its hilarious.

“Anyway you wont be alone i’ll make sure i have a seat behind you so we can talk and you can complain about how you wanna be on the team but you’re not sure enough of yourself bla bla bla’'I say to Stiles trying to cheer him up. ’'yeah great nice speech not helping but its good to know i have your sarcastic company’'Stiles said smirking. ’'oooooooooh im offended” i joked but i know how to get to him wait for it, wait for it “OW WHAT THE HELL RAVEN!” Stiles yelled while rubbing his head where i just made a lacross ball hit him. “ Hey that’s what you get for OW!” he just slapped me upside the head’’ you are so gonna pay for that later’’ i say while smiling evilly he knows its bad when i do that. He looks terrified “ Please no pain physically mentally maybe physically no” he looks so scared i can’t help but smile “meh we’ll see”.

Me and stiles look over just it time to see Scott catching balls like crazy and not missing a single one its incredible.

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“EWWW! Really Scott you had to take the wet route” ignored’’ I don’t know what it was it was like i had all the time in the world to catch the ball, and that’s not the only weird thing i can hear stuff i shouldn’t be able to hear, smell things’’ Yup the Alpha got him “Smell things? Like what?” Stiles asks’’ Like the mint mojito gum in you’re pocket’’.

“ What i don’t even have any mint mojito-” then rest assured Stiles pulled out some gum “Ew dude how long has that been in there that you forgot about it?’'i asked disgusted ’'So all this started with the bite?” Stiles is still amazed about the gum, “ what if its like a infection like my body is flooding with adrenaline before i go into shock or something?” Scott asked worried. “ you know what i think I've actually heard of this its a specific kind of infection-”

“you have?”

“shhh” then he mouths follow my lead,i just nod “Are you serious?”

“Yeah yeah i think it called lycanthrope” I actually had to look away from laughing hey gotta play dumb right. “Whats that is that bad?” oh Scott you really need to get out more “ Yeah its the worst but only once a month on the night of the full moon” i say then me and Stiles start Howling like wolves. Scott then slaps us both and walks away “hey you’re the one who said you heard a wolf howling” Stiles says trying to defend himself. “There could be something seriously wrong with me”

“I know your a werewolf GRRR” Stiles really cant growl’' OK come on Scott you know we’re joking’’ I hope, i heard someones thoughts and tuned Scott and Stiles out 'Im guessing that’s one of the guys who lost the inhaler- Oh great the girls here to’ Its that same deep voice that carried me home “RAVEN!” Scott yelled “ huh, what” he pointed behind me and sure enough i turn around and someone there.

I got a proper look at him now hes about 6ft1,light stubble, black tousled hair and wearing mostly black and lets just say hes super hot. His eyes though i could have sworn they flashed bright blue, “psst” i turn back around to see Scott and Stiles doing hand movements l like come closer my child its weird. When i get over to them the guy finally speaks “ What are you doing here hm this is private property” he tells them not looking at me, “ sorry man we didn't know” Stiles is scared. “Yeah we were just looking for something but forget it’' Scott says annoyed then the guy throws something and again Scott catches it no problem when he opens his hand and the inhaler is there and the guys is walking off ’'Hey Scott i’ll be right back” i run off before he can protest.

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“Hey!” i yell the guy seemed to have heard me cause he turns around “What” he glares at me “You were kinda harsh back there don’t you think?’'he walks over to me ’'What of it”

“W-well uh”

“What hm what are you gonna do? You’re just a girl” he smirks and that sparks something inside me “ Well this girl could probably kick your ass” i stand up in front of him and look him dead in the eyes 'She’s brave I’ll give her that

“Well?’'he glares at me and walks back

’'WAIT!”

“what” his back is still turned to me

“What’s you’re name? Im Raven”

“Derek” and he walks off, Great now back to Scott.

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Im in bed watching G-force and as i look out my window i had to do a double take i see glowing blue eyes just like the ones i thought i saw on Derek. I look towards my door as someone knocks but when i look out the window again the eyes are gone, “ come in!” mum walks in looking tired as hell “ Hey just to let you know im gonna call it a night, um Scott has the late shift at the vet so don’t wait up” she says “ i wasn’t planning to but goodnight you look like you could use some rest” she comes over gives me a hug then shes off. And back into bed i go i turn off the TV and all i can think about is those Blue eyes Unfortunately my dreams are filled with the mass of fur and those red eyes.

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“Scott where are you?” Im in the boys locker room looking for my brother probably not a good idea but hey i need to talk to him.

( Dream/Flashback)

Im running in the woods and i hear the Alpha growling while chasing me 'You are mine Raven’

“No!” i continue to run its no use he jumps on me “ Please don’t hurt me”

He growls 'Will you be mine?’ I whimper “Yes” He moves his head down and bites my stomach.

“AWOOOH” (My version of a howl)

I wake up gasping for air why did i say yes to him? I shake my head rubbing my face, I look to my window and see Scott running into the woods “Scott!” no reaction i try to follow but hes long gone “Damn it”.

( End of Dream/flashback)

I hear something getting slammed against metal “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON WITH YOU MCCALL!” Jackson yelled “WHATS GOING ON WITH ME YOU REALLY WANNA KNOW? WELL SO WOULD I, I CAN SEE, HEAR AND SMELL THINGS THAT I SHOULDN’T BE ABLE TO SEE HEAR AND SMELL. I DO THINGS THAT SHOULD BE IMPOSSIBLE IM SLEEP WALKING THREE MILES INTO THE MIDDLE OF THE WOODS AND IM PRETTY MUCH CONVINCED IM TOTALLY OUT OF MY FREAKING MIND! Scott yelled back Jackson’s not buying it good ’'Huh you think your funny don’t you McCall? i know your hiding something im gonna figure it out, And i don’t care how long it takes.” Then another slam of metal “Scott?” Aaand he’s gone brilliant(note the sarcasm).

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Now as the good sister i am i decide to go to the stupid lacross practice. “SCOTT!” Stiles voice really shouldn't go that high but hey it gives me a laugh. “ Im playing the first elimination man can it wait? Scott asks. ” No just hold on OK the lab results came back from the hairs on the body, it was animal hair-“

’'look i gotta go”

“ No Scott your not gonna believe what it was, it was a wolf”.

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“COME ON”! i yell as Jackson knocks down Scott. Scott right away gets up and starts kicking ass at this,WOAH he just did some kind of side/back flip, Stiles has his curious face on. OH NO.

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“OK keep calm for what your about to see” i whispered to myself. Knock,knock. “Ray-Ray” Stiles says excited. “ Stiles you know i hate that name.”

“exactly” he smiles evilly. “Anyway the reason i called you, look at this I've been up all night doing all this research and im pretty sure Scott's a werewolf” he looks at me expectantly. “A werewolf what come on Stiles that’s ridiculous” i suck at lying. “ HA! you believe it too, so what do we do?”.

“ OK well first we need to tell Scott and he’s not gonna believe us i mean come on would you?” i asked knowing the answer. “YES!” he yells. “yeah but your on the crazy train so you would” he looks at me with fake hurt “Fine i’ll call Scott”.

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About a half hour later Scott shows, “Get in here” me and Stiles yell “Ginyx you owe me a hot chocolate”. ignored “what is this about the body did they find out who did it? poor Scott he has no idea ’' No they’re still questioning people even Derek Hale” Stiles says and my heart jumps at the mention of Derek. “Oh yeah the guy in the woods” the hot guy in the woods ha good thing they cant read my mind. “Yeah yeah but that’s not it OK” Stiles is getting annoyed “what then?”

“ Remember the joke from the other day, not a joke anymore’' Scott looks lost ” the Wolf the bite in the woods’’ my mind flows back to the red eyes.

(Flashback)

'What a pretty little thing i have big plans for you’ That voice i know that voice, blurred images screaming people flames.

(End of flashback)

“WOAH! SCOTT STOP!” i scream as i see Scott holding Stiles up against the wall ready to punch him, “AAGH’' Scott screams as he lets Stiles go. I wait till Scott is gone before i speak ’'Stiles the chair” i whisper as i see claw marks “We are so screwed” we say together.

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“MOM” i hear Scott yell “Whats wrong?” and of course i run in and nothings wrong, ew except my brother in nothing but a towel. “Im just gonna go” i say as i run back to my room “what to wear, what to wear”. So i just go with Black skinny jeans, Dark purple tank that shows a little stomach, grey ankle boots about 4 inch heel and a little black swede shoulder jacket. Make up purple and silver smokey eye just a chap stick on the lips and no blush, Hair straight and just dyed the ends brighter red earlier. I look over my self in the mirror pleased with how i look i say “ Its go time”.

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Stiles picked me up about 20 minutes later. When i got in his geep he tried to act all James bond and i just lost it i couldn't stop laughing.

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We arrived at the party 15 minutes later and im kinda judgy when it comes to party's so here’s my checks. Good music? Check, Lots of people? Check, And some sluttyness? Check. Jackson and Lydia are pretty much dry humping each other less than 5 feet from us. Stiles looks Disgusted/Upset, What he see’s in her i will never know.“Im gonna go look for Scott” I yell to Stiles “I’ll go look that way call me if you find him” Stiles yelled back.

After looking for a good bit Something strange or should i say someone strange shows up. “Derek!” He seemed to have heard me because he looked over at me. I walk halfway to him He walks the rest not looking pleased Geez does he ever smile. I stop and he just stares at me, Everything happens so quick after that his hands are on my waist and my arms are around the back of his neck “So crash high school party’s often?” i ask looking away could i be more geeky, “No” he almost growls. 'Why is she trying to talk to me? Shes here for the same reason as me’ Hes thinking “What reasons that?” Oops out loud, OUT LOUD! “What reason’s what” he asks, Quick just make something up “Um why don't you crash high school party s more often?” I giggled. He looks unimpressed “ALLISON!” i yell thankful for the distraction. “I gotta go” I turn around and hes gone “Raven right?” I nod “ Scott’s told me about you” she explains. “Where is he?” I ask “I don't know he just took off” she says upset. “ Hes not usually like this i promise and he really likes you, don't be too hard on him” By this time we're outside and our car is gone, “ Can i give you girls a ride?” OH OH i know that voice, OH NO i know that voice. I turn around and Derek's there,“ Um” Allison mumbles “ Sorry how rude of me im a friend of Scott's my names Derek”.

“No-” He cuts me off with a glare and gives me a shut up and play along look, “Yeah, Sure” i say to him and Allison.

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The car ride was awkward to say the least after we dropped Allison off, “My house is just round here” i say pointing to the left “I know” he says then mumbles to himself “great just great”.

“How do you know? And what the hell was that back there about being Scott's friend?” I ask annoyed, “Just drop it before i make you walk”. And i shut up its cold and i really don't wanna walk, 5 excruciating minutes later he drops me off and i barely get the door shut before he speeds of “Bye to you too” i grumble.

Wait the car is here I rush in looking for Scott but hes not here.“ You know what? Im going to bed i’ll deal with his ass tomorrow.” Again why must i talk to myself, Maybe im the one riding the crazy train not Stiles.

After Stripping down to my underwear and tank top i crawl into bed and drift off.

So that’s episode 1 finished. Derek’s a bit of a jerk huh.

-Ray

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