#oh shush it. ( grim talks ) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

emlovslennon · 1 month ago

Text

bed chem

plot: it’s your first yet last year at Hogwarts. You finally decided to attend as a freshly 18 year old young woman, but following being put in the Slytherin house, you fancy the long haired professor that owned it.

(yes, this is based off a sabrina carpenter song because i love her and this song is so him).

warnings: smut, age gap (the reader IS AN ADULT), snape did not know her as a child, fluff ending cuz why not.

“So what took you so long to attend Hogwarts?” Your friend, Hermione asked. You and Hermione were in the same grade, she was just a year younger than you were.

“I ‘dunno, I just thought I’d give it a try.” You replied. You felt zoned out nearly the entire morning until a tall, fit, man walked past you. He looked as if he was the human embodiment of a raven.

“Moine… W-who is that?” You whispered, slightly nudging her shoulder.

“Oh, him? That’s Professor Snape. I wouldn’t bother him, he can be quite grouchy.” Hermione explained. You could hear him talking in the distance, he was merely a few feet away from you. Sounded like he was discussing grades with some student that, from the sounds of it, was not doing well.

“Oh my god, his voice.” You nearly squealed. Hermione shushed you almost immediately, followed by a giggle.

“He has real good hearing, y’know. He could be listening in.” Hermione giggled. You couldn’t say she was wrong, because before too long, Snape turned directly in your direction, walking toward you. Your heart began to pound as your eyes went from his face to the floor.

“Good morning, Miss L/N.” He greeted, his grim voice making you tremble.

“H-hello, Professor… um” You stuttered. You could have sworn your brain stopped working. I mean, Hermione just told you his name and you already forgot.

“Snape, silly girl. You should be becoming accustomed to it. You belong to Slytherin. I would start to become less ditzy, if I were you.” Snape scolded. Your blushing became so severely evident. You felt so embarrassed, but Merlin, he was attractive. You felt ashamed over how easily the most inappropriate thoughts scattered your mind at the sight of him.

“Y-yes, Professor Snape. I-I have your class, right?” You asked. Hermione gave you a look, as if to say, “why did you ask that?” Mainly because most students were horrified of him, and pretended to not know when his class was to avoid attending.

“Yes, you do. In fact, it starts right now.” He replied, the bell ringing for first period echoing across the cafeteria.

“Follow me.” He said. You turned to Hermione and gave her a goodbye hug before getting up and heading to class.

“So, I see you’re befriended with Hermione. The insufferable know-it-all.” He blurted out, clearly trying to start a conversation.

“Y-yes. I am. We’ve been friends since children, I just never attended Hogwarts until now. I think it would be better to graduate here.” You asserted.

“Makes sense, I suppose.” He responded. Your face was burning red, your hands were clammy. You couldn’t believe you made yourself such a nervous wreck over a man you just met. You prayed to Merlin he didn’t notice, but from your look alone, it could have been evident from a mile away.

“You look flushed, Miss Y/N. Why is that?” He questioned. Your heart sank. You felt as if your chest was gonna burst from how hard it was pounding. How do I explain to him he’s the “cute guy with the long black robe and the thick accent that I think I’d have really good bed chemistry with?” Simply impossible.

“I just, um. Don’t feel good.” You lied.

“Funny, you were just fine when you were snickering about me to your insolent friend.” He retorted.

“How did you know?” You asked. His brows furrowed up slightly, knowing he caught red handed.

“You know, Miss Y/N, it’s rude to talk behind someone’s back. Surely you’re smart enough to realize that.” He says, his voice lowering. At this point, we stopped walking and he stood in front of you, nearly towering over your body.

“I… It wasn’t bad. I just, I just said I liked your accent.” You stated. He chuckled darkly at your poor attempt to defend yourself.

“Is that so? We will discuss this more after class.” He said sternly. Discuss what? The fact you liked his accent? What kind of absurdity was that? Needless to say, you had no room to really complain. I mean, alone, together, with the guy you find hot. What’s wrong with that?

After class, although your body started to tremble, you made your way to his desk. He was still sat, his hands on the table clasped together.

“Sit.” He demanded softly. You obeyed almost immediately.

“What was it you wanted to discuss?” You spoke. The awkward silence between you two was damning, especially because you already know what he was going to talk to you about.

“I believe you know very well what I wanted to speak to you about. I know what you’re trying to pull, Miss Y/N.” Snape said, your breath hitched.

“I-I don’t know what you’re-“ you were shut up by the sound of your Professor getting out of his seat and walking towards you and kneeling right in front of your body.

“Silence. If you came here merely to bed me, I’d have you greatly mistaken. First and foremost, if that be the case, which it most certainly is, I suggest you actually pay attention in my class and not spend your time daydreaming and drawing while your know-it-all friend blurts out the answers that nobody else knows. Secondly, you can’t even attempt to deny your attraction when I can see your thighs trembling with lust. I know what you want, but I’m not so sure you deserve it, yet. I believe I’ll need some… Proof, if you will.” Snape confessed. If your panties weren’t fucked before, they sure as hell are now. You could feel your wetness seeping onto the chair. You mentally slapped yourself for wearing a skirt and no tights.

“Professor… I-I-“ You shushed yet again as he put his index finger to your lips.

“Severus. Do not call me ‘Professor’ right now. I am not your Professor in this moment, do you understand? You prove to me your… Submission, and you’re no longer my student, nor I your Professor.” Severus reprimanded. You nodded your head vigorously.

“I-I know what would make sense to me in this very moment.” You mumbled, nearly a whisper. Severus raised his brow at you in curiosity.

“I think you picking me up and turning me around over your desk just makes sense.” You whispered, leaning towards his ear. You could have sworn you heard a growl coming from him.

“Very well. Get up and bend over my desk. Now.” Severus demanded, sternly this time around. When you hesitated slightly, just by the mere shock of it all, he picked you up by your shoulders and pushed you into his desk, nearly slamming your chest onto the top of it.

“Silly girl. Can’t obey one task? Such a shame.” He mumbles. He lifts your skirt up to your abdomen and pulls down your cherry decorated panties.

“How juvenile. But, I mustn’t lie, I do enjoy them.” He compliments. Well, kinda. His fingers run across your soaked slit, he groans at the feeling of his fingers fondling your wetness.

“Such a needy little thing. Tell me, Miss Y/N, what is it that you want from me, hm?” He asks, his voice is low and seductive. You could not believe this was happening. There was no way in hell you could ever tell Hermione about this.

“Y-your fingers. Please, Severus.” You pleaded. Severus chuckled darkly at your pathetic pleas and shoved two fingers inside your core. You gasped at the intrusion. Severus made sure to keep his thumb on your bundle of nerves. For a man his students think get no action, this man knows what he’s doing.

“This? How pathetic. But, I must say, you’re such an obedient little girl. So eager for me.” Severus praised. Your legs shook at his vicious attack on your core. You moaned loudly, feeling a large hand cover your mouth.

“Quiet, incompetent girl.” Severus whispered. You felt so embarrassed at the fact that you were already getting close. But it felt all too overwhelming.

“Already close? How feeble. So pathetic. I suppose I should let you finish, hm?” Severus cooed. You were way too caught into finishing until you felt a harsh slap to your rear.

“Answer me. Or I won’t.” Severus ordered.

“Y-yes. S-Severus. P-please.” You managed to stutter out. He was right, you were pathetic. Nearly drooling on your Professors desk as he fingered you mercilessly. But it couldn’t end here, you wouldn’t let it.

“I-I need more, Severus. Please.” You begged. Severus looked at you with a confused look. As if he was shocked that you really wanted him to violate you.

“What do you want?” He asked, mere whisper.

“I need you to deflower me.” You mustered. Severus eyes widened, clearly taken aback by what you said.

“Y/N, I need to understand something right now. Once I start, I will not contain myself. Losing your innocence is something that is not of little importance. When it’s gone, it is gone. It will belong to me.” Severus clarified. You nodded.

“I don’t care, I need you entirely too much. I need you to bed me, right here, right now.” You admitted. It was with this admission that something changed within Severus. He picked you up and turned you around onto your back, now laying on his desk. You covered your face in nervousness as he removed his trousers. Without warning, he pushed into you. Causing you to yelp out.

“Y-you couldn’t even give me a warning?” You squeaked out.

“Why should I? I told you. I’m not containing myself. Explaining myself again would be futile.” Severus grunted. However, seeing you had tears prickling out of your eyes from the violation, he stayed still. Waiting for you to let him move.

“S-sorry, I’m just trying to get used to y-“ you stopped dead in your tracks as Severus cupped your face with his hands and kissed you. It wasn’t aggressive nor rough, but passionate and quite…. meaningful. You moaned into the kiss as he sped up, your skin colliding in a sinful orchestra.

“Gods, you are beautiful, Y/N. Does it still hurt?” Severus panted into your ear. The burn was lingering, yet fading. You became engulfed in bliss as he began to roughly thrust into you.

“N-no. Y-you f-feel so good. Don’t s-stop.” You moaned out. You expected Severus’ hand to come over your mouth, yet nothing. It’s like he didn’t care anymore. Which to be fair, he shouldn’t. It was late, and one little moan shouldn’t be so loud that everyone in Hogwarts heard it.

“I do? You’re enchanting, you know that?” Severus chuckled. You were dazed beyond recognition. It was so deliciously sinful that it was too much for your little mind to process. Severus bent his head down to attack your neck, for sure to leave hickies in the morning. You make a mental note to wear a scarf for tomorrow.

“F-faster.” You squeaked. You felt yourself getting so feverishly close, so close yet so far. it was killing you. Severus took the hint that your climax was approaching by you tightening around him and your pants and moans were up an octave. Severus grabbed your hips and began to, for lack of a better term, pound into you. You looked up at his disheveled face. His raven hair was slightly stuck to his forehead from sweat, brows furrowed slightly, and his mouth agape, panting like a dog in heat.

“You’re close, I know you are. I want you to release for me, lovely girl. Can you do that?” Severus panted out. You nodded lively as you felt your sweet release wash over like a wave. Your legs shook at the force and you bit your lip to prevent a scream, causing blood to trickle down your bottom lip.

“Foolish girl, don’t do that.” Severus reprimanded. Taking his sleeve and wiping the blood from your chin.

“I-I want it on my… face.” You whimpered. Severus stopped thrusting and looked at you.

“You want me to…. Violate your face is such a way?” He questioned.

“Yes, yes I do.” You panted. Severus gave you a look of complete disbelief, but pulled out of you and grab your hand to help you stand up. He giggled as you wobbled when you stood.

“Get on your knees, then.” He demanded darkly. You wasted no time getting on your knees and sticking your tongue out for him.

“What an indecent minx you are.” He said. He began to stroke his member at a vigorous pace, biting his lip in the process.

“Gods, keep your mouthing open. Sweet, obedient, girl.” He moaned as he released on your tongue, face, and clothed breasts. Once he was done, his left hand cupped your face, admiring your profane beauty. He let go and went to grab tissues to wipe your face.

“I see I… painted your blouse.” He joked. Your white blouse covered with his semen.

“Well, I’d assume that’s what washing machines are for.” You retorted, causing him to chuckle.

“I assume this is a one time occasion?” Severus asked. You could hear the slight disappointment hinted in his voice.

“Not unless you want it to be. You interest me, Severus.” You replied. Severus’ face lit up as he heard the confirmation. He cupped your chin and gave you one last kiss.

“I’ll see in the morning, wicked girl.” He whispered. You nodded and smiled as you zipped your skirt back up and walked out of his office and back to your dorm. Gods, the excuse you’re gonna have to make up to Hermione.

HEYYYY GUESS WHOS BACK BACK AGAINNNN!!! Yes, I’m having a BAD SNAPE phase so my apologies BUTTTT I HOPE YOU LIKE THISSSS!!!

#severus snape #severus x reader #professor snape #snape smut #harry potter #snape #smut

30 notes · View notes

edosianorchids901 · 3 months ago

Text

Now That You've Come Back

@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt - "empty house"

Cw: aftermath of violence and strangulation

After the police dragged Colonel Moran away, Watson finally allowed himself to lean against one of the walls of the empty house. Pain throbbed through his shoulder and leg, and he couldn’t quite catch his breath. The adrenaline was dying down too, and with that came the shakes.

The shakes, and the horrified awareness that had he been too hurt to get back into the fight, he might have watched Holmes be murdered. Might have lost him again, so soon after getting him back.

Holmes was pacing up and down the room sharply, a grim expression on his face as he watched Moran through the windows. Every inch of his bearing showed tension and anger. But was there pain? A hitch in his step, a rasping edge to his breath?

“Ah, there he goes.” Holmes paused by the window, shoulders still tight. “He is putting up a little fight, Watson. But at least he is well in hand.”

“Holmes,” Watson managed, tears rising.

At once, Holmes pivoted, and the hot anger on his face melted away to something else. His eyes widened, and his lips parted.

“Watson?” He dashed across the empty room and grasped Watson by the shoulders. “Were you hurt in the fight? Of course you are, you were thrown across the room. I really am very sorry.”

“No, I’m—”

“I am a fool not to have realized. Oh, my dear Watson, forgive me.” Breaths rasping and lip trembling, Holmes looked him over. “How could I be so stupid as to neglect you after… after…”

Holmes began to cough, and staggered. His hand went to his throat, and pain twisted his expression.

“Holmes, Holmes!” Quickly, Watson caught his friend’s arms and steadied him. “Do you want to sit?”

“There is… nowhere to sit,” Holmes rasped. He struggled for a deeper breath, then coughed again. “I should like to return to Baker Street. But… if you are hurt…”

“Sore, but not hurt. Sore, and frightened.” Battling against the tears, Watson turned them both so that Holmes might lean against the wall now. “Catch your breath.”

Holmes shook his head sharply and tried to speak. He promptly began to cough again.

“For God’s sake, Holmes. You mustn’t talk, not yet. I’m all right, old man. Don’t worry about me.” Keeping one hand on Holmes’ shoulder to steady him, Watson caught Holmes’ wrist. He found a racing pulse, racing but strong. “It’s all right. Just try to catch your breath.”

That would be easier said than done after a strangulation. Moran had a crushingly strong grip, and had managed to cut off Holmes’ air completely. In the dim light of the empty house, it was impossible for Watson to conduct a proper examination.

But although a wheezing edge remained to his breaths, Holmes soon managed a smile. “I’m all right,” he murmured. “And you, Watson?”

“I am as well.” But a tear escaped, and Watson shook his head as he touched Holmes’ cheek. “My God, Holmes. I nearly lost you again. I’m sorry, I ought to have been faster…”

With a soft shushing noise, Holmes touched a finger to his own lips and shook his head. “My dear Watson. You saved me. I am very much in your debt. And now, if it is not objectionable, I should like to embrace you.”

The statement caught Watson so entirely off guard that for a moment, he could only stare. “How could that possibly be objectionable?”

A quick, mischievous smile flitted across Holmes’ face. “Well. Earlier, when I meant to embrace you, you fainted. I feared perhaps, it was the thought of a hug…”

“Holmes, you are outrageous.” Watson lost control over something that was a laugh or a sob or both. “I can think nothing I should like better than to be in your arms, and to know that you are alive.”

He did begin to cry then, something that was most definitely a sob bursting from him as the tears escaped. His legs buckled, and anguish wrenched at his chest. After three years, Holmes had returned alive. The thought that he might so easily have been murdered now…

“Hush, my dear Watson. It is all right.” At once, Holmes folded him into a close embrace. One hand came up, cradling Watson’s head to Holmes’ shoulder. “It’s all right. I am alive, and I swear I shall not leave you again.”

The shakes returned in earnest now, and Watson pressed close against Holmes. He tried not too cling too tightly, especially as Holmes had so recently been seized around the middle and slammed into the ground. And even on an ordinary day, Holmes disliked being touched.

He betrayed none of that discomfort now, one hand rubbing Watson’s back and the other gently ruffling his hair. Watson sank into the embrace, distress easing as he held onto Holmes, so solid and real and alive. But the image of Holmes on the ground with Moran choking him lingered, still so clear.

They had made it through that fight, though. They were both battered, and there was still a wheezing edge to Holmes’ breaths. Watson would need to keep an eye on him, to ensure that there had not been serious damage.

When Watson finally felt himself again, he drew back and wiped his eyes. To his shock, there were tears on Holmes’ cheeks too, some still falling. “My dear Holmes, you’re crying!”

“As are you.” Holmes flashed a quick smile, though. “Ah, Watson. Words cannot express the joy I feel at being back with you again.”

Watson nodded, choked up. “Nor mine at having you here.”

“Come, Watson.” Still teary, Holmes offered his arm. “Let us return to Baker Street.”

Relieved, Watson took his arm, and together they made their way out of the empty house together. They were battered, yes, and shaken. But they were together again, and finally on their way home.

#sherlock holmes #john watson #granada holmes #empty house

25 notes · View notes

michelletsw · 1 year ago

Text

Cute thoughts

Romantic/crush writings not in a relationship

Gn reader (I don't have favoritism shush/j)

What if,

Grim got upset one night since you bought the wrong brand of tuna so he locked you out unable to get back inside, the ghosts finding it funny so the goof around helping grim leaving you locked outside for the night.

Ace

You sneak inside and get in his room quietly you see he has extra blankets on his bed and his blankets on the floor with a futon he's siting on his floor playing on his phone already in his pjs "why's your stuff on the ground?" Asking genuinely confused "just shut up and take the bed" he plugs in his phone and sets up where he'll be sleeping. "Your sleeping in your uniform?" He asks confused "I wasn't planing on it but I couldn't change before grim started throwing a fit" ace stands up and walk to his dresser he throws a shirt and sweat pants at you then lays down on the futon "bathrooms right there" you change and come back seeing the lights turned off and him falling asleep you lay down on the bed "thank you" you hear a sigh from him "don't mention it.." you fall asleep and his bed is way more comfortable then the one in ramshackle, that was the best you slept in awhile.

Deuce

Quietly and carefully you sneak inside and make your way to deuces room slipping in "what sleeping arrangements did you want to do?" You can see a soft pink on his cheek as he talks but trys to play it cool. Sitting on the ground he rolls out a futon "oh, ill take the futon it's your room after all" he looks at you confused "you sure I don't mind plus you had to deal with all this in the first place." He stands up already in his pjs and grabs the extra blankets for the closet "it's your room after all and you answered my distress call" laughing slightly from the situation. He places the extra blankets on the futon "I guess you wouldn't have pjs huh.." still in your uniform you sigh "no not really" fixing up the sheets as you talk, deuce goes to his dresser and opens the drawer and grabs one of his shirts and sweatpants "you can barrow these if you'd like" he seems a little embarrassed from the idea but still offers, you take them and go change in the bathroom once your done he's laying down on the futon asleep with his blankets and the extras on his bed for you, you lay down and get comfortable "thank you" he doesn't answer but it's still a sweet gesture.

Epel

One of the seven must be looking out for you since you got in through the window and into his room safe and didn't get caught. you see a futon on the ground next to his bed thats neatly made "you don't have pjs?" He sighs "I don't know if my clothes will fit you.." he's quieter with the second sentence, you sigh and start to ramble about grim but eventually get back to what your wearing "these are fine" you take off the jacket outerwear and are left with the simple white button up and your bottoms, "thank you for doing this really sleeping outsidewith nothing dosent seem that "fun"" you say trying to lighten the night some, while taking off your shoes "it's whatever just be quite so we don't get caught im surprisedwe didnt already but, the bathrooms over there" he lays down and trys to sleep, so you do the same the futon is still surprisingly more comfortable then the bed at ramshackle.. which seems a little unfair but atleast you have this now.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x y/n #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x yuu #ace x y/n #ace trapolla #ace x reader #deuce x y/n #deuce spade #deuce x reader #epel x y/n #epel felmier #epel x reader #twisted wonderland gn #twisted wonderland x gn reader #romantic #twisted wonderland fluff #fluff

148 notes · View notes

pinky27freak · 4 months ago

Text

~°¶_Idia x Yuu_¶°~

~°¶_Promise_¶°~

*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ

(Yuu has a sibling that came to twisted wonderland with them in this one)

*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ

Rumble, Crash!!

Are heroine,, Yuu, jumped nearly a foot as the storm worsened outside. Though the defening thunder and lightning didn’t seem to bother her boyfriend, who was busy trying to save Zelda. She sighed and scruntch up her face as she cuddled deeper into the blankets on Idia’s bed. She absolutely adored him to a t, but she really wanted attention and cuddles, especially since today was their one year anniversary of dating. Then again, she also liked watching him get all worked up about the game.

“Why do you have to be so cute when you're mad!” She thought, grabbing a blanket and rapping it around her like a hooded cloke. She then stood up and walked over to him and put her face into his shoulder. Idia stiffened a bit before relaxing into her touch. A soft smile grew on her face. “Is my gamer fustrated at the big boss?”

“Yes! Why can’t this old bisket die already!!” He furiously smashed his fingers in the controller as he jumped to dodged another attack. Yuu watched until he finally won the level, then she drug back his seat and sat on his lap. Idia's eyes widened. “Y-yuu?!”

“I want cuddles. I also want to watch you kick some butt. So this is the perfect combination!” She smiled and snuggled her head into his chest as he made a small shy noise.

“Why is she so freaking cute! My heart feels like it’s going to burst!” He internally screamed before relaxing back into his previous position and continuing the game.

Rumble, rumble, rumble. CRASH!!!

The lights flickered and then completely went out. The two sat in silence for a minute, each contemplating what had just happened.

“You did save your game right?”

“......... shit no!” Idia threw down his controller onto the desktop, signing in frustration.

“Awww! My poor little baby!!” Yuu Snuggle her boyfriend harder, hoping to somewhat comforter him in the fact that he was going to have to rematch with the boss that took him almost an hour to defeat. His arms wound their way across her back as he pulled her in a bit more and buried his face in her bobbed hair.

“You smell good.” He muttered, nuzzling his nose deep into her neck. Yuu squirmed. “Dose that tickle, sweetheart?” Yuu's eyes widened at his tone.

“Oh no.”

With that, her boyfriend started to mercsessly tickle her. Causing her to screech.

“I feel a disturbance in the force…….” Yuu's sibling muttered, perking up as they sat in Ramshackle, being single, unlike their younger sister.

“Oh shush.” Grim said, rolling his eyes. “Your just being paranoid.”

"Grim can just not talk sometime?" She growled, going back to reading as she thought about what her sibling and future brother in law were up to.

Back at the currently non electric Ignihyde, Yuu had somehow managed to escape her boyfriend’s grasp and was hiding. Idia was currently trying to find her.

“Yuu! Come on, it was just getting fun!” He said before tripping over some clothes on the floor. Yuu stiffeled a laugh as she squeezed further under the bed. Haha! No way he was going to find her!

“Ah! Here’s my flashlight.”

“……. Oh crap.”

The beam sweeped across the floor, before turning to the closet. She used this chance to wiggle further back under the bed. Though her attaition was caught by a rumging sound coming from the closet and a small.

“There it is!” by her boy. She was curious of what “There it is!” ment, and what “There it is!” was. The light then turned towards the bed and she stiffened seeing his socked feet walking towards her. They turned towards the nightstand and she could hear a small box being sat down on it. The light then clicked off and the only light left was from the soft glow of his hair. He then bent down and crouched on to the floor and poked his head under the bed.

“hi.” A small smile formed on his face causing Yuu’s heart to melted at the sight.

“hi.” Was her shy reply. He then reached out his hand as a offering, she took hold of it, and he slowly pulled her out into the open.

“How about we have a proper cuddle time.” He said bring her in for a hug.

“That would be worth more than gold to me.” Yuu snuggled into his neck as he picked her up and flopped onto the bed. They emidetly entangled their limbs together and buried their heads in each other’s necks. Within a few minutes, I had fallen asleep. Two hours later, Ortho made his way into the room and found them all curled up and sleeping peacefully. His regular smile grew almost to twise it’s size seeing his big brother and his lover all cozy and warm in each other’s embrace.

He quickly grabbed Idia’s phone and punched in the code to unlock it and then took several pictures of the sleeping pair, then sent them to both himself and Yuu's siblings.

Idia: (sent with attachment)

Hey Sis-chan! It’s Ortho! I’m sending this evidence so there are extra files! (Read)

Sis:

>:) I fore see a wedding ring in the future!! LOL!!

Thank you, Ortho!! You're such a sweetheart!

(Read) I’ll be sure to print them out!l

Ortho stopped as something pinged in his head. He scanned the room before his eyes finally rested on a small box on the night stand. He silently walked over to it and opened the lid and smiled. He then turned around to his brother and gently shook him awake.

“Big brother!” He excitedly whispered as Idia opened his eyes. “I think now would be the perfect time!” He said, handing him the box. Idia’s eyes snapped open as he eyed the box that was now in his hand. Ortho gave a double thumbs up and whispered. “You can do it!!” He then exits the room, leaving a sleeping Yuu and a very flustered Idia behind him.

Idia swallowed as he looked at the box and then at his girlfriend. She looked so peaceful and beautiful it was almost like someone had put a spell on her.

“I’ll wait until she wakes up…..” He turned to put the box back onto the nightstand.

“I’m already awake, silly.” A small groggy voice sounded off. Idia snapped his head round to see two sleepy hazel eyes softly studying him as a smile tugged at the full soft lips of hers. “What does “I’ll wait until she wakes up” mean baby?” She said, rapping her arms around his waist and snuggling her head into his tummy. Idia stuttered, not knowing how to answer her exactly.

“I-I, uh, I-THISISFORYOU!” He blurted and shoved the box into her hands before quickly hiding his face into a pilow, making small noises of embarrassment while doing so. Yuu raised an eyebrow, not really knowing what he was doing, though it was just so adorable that she didn’t really care. Humming, she retangled their legs and pulled him closer. A small squeek sounded from Idia as she did so, causing her to lose it for a minute.

After her myboyfriendistocute attack she opened the box and peered inside. Idia watch her from a breathing hole he’d created. Her eyes widened as she took out the two silver rings inside and stared at them. One was more slender and had a dark blue stone in it, while the other was more wide and had a ice blue stone in it. She carefully turned each of them over in her hand, studding every part of them.

“Look on the inside of the band.” Idia’s shy muffled voice spoke, though the boy himself was still hidden. Yuu reached over, turning on the lamp stand, then remembering the power was out, snuggled closer to her boy, and used the soft glow from his hair to read the inscription on the ring.

Your Wonderlust lead to my Forelsket and our redamancy.

Yuu felt her heart ach at each word. But not a ach of pain, more of love and eumoirous. She loved this man. Nothing was ever going to change that or sway her love for him. Nothing was ever going to come between them. She’d had already made up her mind. She slid the slender ring onto her ring finger and then grabbed Idia’s and did the same with the wider one. She knew exactly what the rings meant for them both. Idia breathed a sigh of relief when he felt her slide the ring onto his finger. He then grabbed her and held her flush to himself, and closed his eyes.

“I love you, Idia, from storge to eros.” Yuu said, looking up at her boy. Idia opened his eyes and gazed down at her as she gazed up at him, his glowing yellow eyes as soft as the boy himself.

“I’ll never know how I got you, but I’m happy I did.” He said intertwining their hands together, feeling her ring on her hand, as she felt his. He tucked his head into her and they both closed their eyes.

Why did they close their eyes you ask? Well why do we close are eyes when we pray, when we cry, when we kiss, when we dream; because the most beautiful things in our lives are not seen but felt only by the heart.

*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ

(fancy and unusual words definitions)

Wonderlust (?.) A deep desire to explore

Forelsket (n.) the euphoria you experience when you are first falling in love.

Redamancy (n.) the act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full.

Eumoirous (?.) Happiness due to being honest and wholesome

Storge (?.) One of the six types of love, an affectionate love that slowly develops from friendship, based on similarity.

Eros (?.) One of the six types of love, a passionate physical and emotional love based on aesthetic enjoyment, is a stereotype of romance.

#twst wonderland #twst #twst fanfic #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland idia #twst idia #idia shroud #idia x reader #idia x yuu #idia x mc #romance #fanfic

22 notes · View notes

superstar-nan · 1 year ago

Text

Fight Tooth and Nail

Day 2

Summary: Michael takes you home and you have a long chat about what the heck is going on around here

Words: 5,077

Fun stuff: Descriptions of unusual self harm from a child, mention of child murder, graphic descriptions of undead bodies, canon typical violence, and mild swearing. Michael heavy chapter; he's still sassy and you're annoyed by it.

First ♡ Prev ♡ Next

───── (\ /) ─────

You barely even registered when you were done vomiting your guts out. Your head was lead, your fingers and toes were tingling strangely. The room was spinning again, and you felt out of yourself. Michael was saying something you didn’t catch, his voice startled and raspy, and looking at his face made you retch again.

The ringing in your ears waned and you could understand Michael, “Oh, gross! ” You wished you could go back to not understanding Michael.

You looked down. The trashcan was made of crossed wire, so your vomit leaked out and onto the floor. Despite how it really was gross, you still couldn’t smell it over the spoiled rot in the room. You clumsily kicked the trashcan away from you (coincidentally, toward Michael, who scooted away from it), and stumbled back against the wall.

It was strange, knowing that you were out of it but not knowing what to do about it. Everything was just a bit out of reach, even the decayed hand snapping in front of your face.

“Hey, you okay?” He didn’t sound worried, only slightly impatient with his typical drone.

You swatted his hand away, “I’m—”

“ Shh! ” That time, you really were talking loud, but you didn’t realize that he was quiet until he shushed you.

“I’m fine.” You looked at the panel. Did they all need to be rebooted? Or none of them?

“Really?” Why was his voice like low, buzzing wasps? Just another thing to add to the list of unsettling things about him. “Because you’re tapping the ‘ reboot all ’ option over and over again.”

Oh. You were doing that. “I’m making it easy for myself.”

Your chin was pulled up. When did Michael get in front of you? He tilted your head from side to side, and you didn’t fight his whims. At this closeness, you couldn’t avoid looking at him, and it gave you a visceral chill traveling from the base of your spine up your back. Though peculiarly, you didn’t want to avoid looking at him. His features held a grip of morbid curiosity over you, like watching something you were forbidden to see—or rather, that was forbidden to exist. The more you looked at him, the less unpleasant he looked. Not that he wasn’t still a little horrifying to look at, but his features held an... odd, haunted allure to it. You had the sudden impulse to hold his face in your hands, to brush your thumbs lightly along the death under his abyssal eyes, and to know the grim reaper that wouldn’t take him. Would he feel it? Can he still feel?

The corpse cursed under his breath, “Your pupils are different sizes. You probably have a concussion.”

Ah. Maybe that was why you were getting poetic and strange impulses. “I’m probably fine.” You retorted, grabbing his wrist. He let you go, but he didn’t look convinced.

“Can you tell me what year it is?” He asked.

“Uh,” Come on, you knew this. “2023? 2022? No wait, 2015.”

“Yeah, give me that,” He swiped the control panel from you long before you even knew it left your hands. Suddenly, a cold, wet gas-station soda cup replaced it. “Don’t fall asleep.”

You took a long sip and almost choked on it, “It tastes like how you smell.”

Michael stiffened. When did he get back to his desk?

You kept drinking anyway. Despite the taste, the cool liquid felt good on your bruised throat. Your head lolled to the side, facing the door. You should have been dead. Multiple times now. That thing —the monster would have killed you twice over if it wasn’t for someone else being there, someone who knew what was going on.

What the hell was going on? Was your best friend wrapped up in this crazy place too? Also, why was there a figure in the doorway?

For a moment that was both an eternity and nothing at all, you thought it was the animatronic and you could have screamed. It wasn’t, though. It was too skinny, but just as tall. You couldn’t focus right at first, but when you did, you noticed it wasn’t skinny or tall at all. It was a child. Small and shrouded in darkness; they couldn’t have been older than eight. Their wild brown locks obscured most of their face, and little fingers touched the edge of the door frame.

You smiled and waved at them.

They waved back, though you couldn’t if they smiled through the shadows. You wanted to ask them their name or if they were lost, but in a vague moment of clarity, you realized that a child shouldn’t be here. Your head started to pound, or was that your heart? The child lifted up a toy phone—the same one the animatronic fooled you with. You opened your mouth to speak, but you couldn’t make a noise. Just like when you were being choked.

The child stabbed themselves in the chest with the phone.

Red—Flashing—Blaring—Red—Flashing—Blaring—

Was it blood? No, the child was gone. Michael was swearing, scrambling across the different cameras. You grabbed the panel and quickly restarted the ventilation. The corpse tried to swipe it back from you, but you pulled away just in time.

“I got it,” You said.

Michael opened his mouth to argue, but his eyes couldn’t tear from the cameras for long. Whatever argument he had for you was lost the moment he returned his focus, frantically swapping through screens. You restarted the audio, and couldn’t stop yourself from looking at the cameras. Not that you could make out the monster animatronic if you tried. You didn’t have the strength to consider why it was so good at hiding from the cameras. Or why it was so good at hunting you.

Your eyes burned when you blinked. You dragged your focus to the clock. 5:47. You couldn’t tell if the night was gone too quickly or not gone quickly enough. You bit your lower lip. Without any idea of what happened to your best friend, you decided the night was gone too quickly. It was unfair.

“What time is your shift over?” Even though your voice was a whisper, it still sounded torn to shreds. You rubbed your throat. It didn’t hurt now, but you knew it would soon. Damned rotted bunny.

Sallow eyes flicked to you and back to the cams just as quickly as you leaned on the back of his chair, “You’re cognizant now?”

You tilted your head from side-to-side, testing the pain in your head. Yep, it was still painful; throbbing, dull and heavy. Though it was difficult to tell how cognizant you were, since the whole night had been a nightmare straight out of a terrible horror movie. You decided to flick the back of Michael’s ear in response. It was spongy to the touch.

Michael half-heartedly swatted at your fingers, but couldn’t keep his hands away from the cameras for long, “Six.”

You swallowed, which was functionally more difficult than usual. You restarted the cameras. “What time does the other security guard get here?”

“Six.”

How inconvenient. You restarted ventilation. “The last security guard left fifteen minutes before you came.”

“If I did that, I would die.”

He was right, but he didn’t have to be so sardonic about it. Not when you were almost killed twice, not when your best friend was still missing, and not when your only clue was in the hands of a... Wait, the kid had the toy phone just a second ago, but you shattered it early. Were you dreaming? Hallucinating? Obviously, you were...

“There was a kid here...” You mentioned, anyway.

“You were dreaming,” Even though you came to the same conclusion, you didn’t like how dismissive the corpse was.

“I didn’t fall asleep,” You said while rebooting the audio.

“Then you were hallucinating,” He said, also preoccupied with swiping and selecting and switching and searching.

You wanted to hit him again. You bit your lip.

Michael’s eyes flicked to you for a fraction of a moment before returning to the cameras. You could only imagine how chaotic you must’ve looked: body shaking with fatigue, eyes red from crying and exhaustion, lips chapped from vomiting, and you didn’t even want to know if the bruise around your neck formed yet. However you looked, apparently it was pitiful enough to make the corpse sigh and say, “The ventilation in this place—something in the air, makes people see things.”

Very briefly, you wondered if the whole night was just some gas-induced nightmare. God, you wished it was.

You rebooted the ventilation. It didn’t need it, but you did it anyway.

As you watched the cams flick through one and the next and the next, you tried to muster the motivation to attempt one last search, to do one last sweep of the place for your best friend’s phone even if it was only with your eyes on the cams. But even if there wasn’t a seven-foot tall monster of a robot hunting you for sport, you didn’t have the life to keep searching. You put your hand in your pocket and felt something smooth and cool. Your best friend’s wrist watch. You wanted to cry, but you didn’t have the life for that either.

Pushing through the exhaustion and misery, you willed yourself to look for the rotted animatronic. You didn’t care how tired you were or how broken you felt, you had to find it. You had to. If only to pour every last emotion caving in your chest into hatred, to point it outward so it at least wasn’t in you. You didn’t follow Michael’s eyes, you wanted to find it on your own.

You found it, but not through perception or wit and that burned you. The rotted, foul thing was standing right where it had been when the night started. As if it was a being with the cognizance to deceive the day shift, and by now you would be a fool to believe it wasn’t.

You were startled by an alarm going off. You quickly checked the panel, but it wasn’t yours. Instead, the alarm was the sound of a grandfather clock, and Michael’s phone was lighting up. 6:00 AM. You could’ve thrown confetti.

A bright light blinded you briefly from outside the office. It was the day shift security guard.

“Hey, Mike. Just finishing... Hi?” He said, once his eyes laid on you.

“Hi,” You replied. Michael stood up, shuffling his things. You didn’t know when, but Michael had slipped on a black face mask, hiding his more grotesque features.

“Uh, who are you?” Oh yeah, you were doing something illegal.

You looped an arm around Michael’s, leaning your body into his cold lifeless one, and he stiffened, “Michael’s my boyfriend. I’m just here to pick him up.” As you leaned into him, you were hit with a waft of spoiled cake that you promptly ignored.

“You’re, uh—to him ?” The guard seemed to be trying not to offend either of you, but it was very obvious he was shocked Michael pulled you. Good to know that even in your disheveled state you were still a few leagues above a zombie.

“Yep. Ready to go—” Your voice caught in your throat when you looked at Michael. His hollowed eyes bore into you with an unknowable emotion. You were reminded of his haunting allure you noted earlier, but fleetingly it was just haunting enough to frighten you, a small flip upturning your stomach. He didn’t take his eyes off of you even as you swallowed and managed to croak out, “ Sweetie? ”

It was deadly silent. Why didn’t the animatronic murder you when it had the chance?

“Yeah, I’m ready.” Thank god. He played along.

You gave the dayshift guard a small wave and a smile, holding Michael’s hand as you left the god-forsaken horror attraction. His flesh was cold to the touch and depressed under the pressure of your fingertips. You ignored the more visceral flip in your stomach at the realization you were touching bone.

The moment the door closed behind you, Michael swiped his hand back, but you were filled with too much relief to be offended. The air was clean, healthy —something you didn’t know you desperately needed until your lungs were filled with vitality. You felt drunk on the morning rays of light and colors that weren’t dull greens and browns. You hadn’t realized you were in hell until earth felt like heaven.

You lowered your eyes after you were able to breathe. Michael was already walking, so you followed him and said, “Thanks.” You meant it for more than pretending to be your boyfriend

“No problem,” He said, and it was strange hearing his (brittish) voice in something other than a whisper. It was raspy and scarred low but still held weight. Like a smooth narrator who had his voice shredded in a cheese grater. “You’re actually going to give me a ride home, though. The bus takes forever.”

You wondered if it was the wait or the staring from other passengers that he wanted to avoid, “Okay, sure. But I also actually need a place to stay.”

He stopped and stared at you. For the first time, you could finally discern his expression clearly. Annoyed disbelief.

You gave him your best innocent smile, which might have ended up a grimace with how exhausted you were, “I thought I’d only stay one night so I didn’t book a hotel.”

He rolled his eyes (something that was fascinating to watch since his eyes were hollowed out voids), turned around and resumed walking. That wasn’t a no. You jogged to match pace with him and when you reached him, he held out his hand. You stared at it, before Michael snapped you out of your stupor, “The keys.”

“You want to drive?”

“You’re sleep deprived, had a concussion, and look like you might fall over.” His hollow eyes scrolled you up and down briefly as he walked.

In a more stable and coherent state, you might have been offended and argued with him. Though, if you had the strength to argue, you had the strength to drive. You put the keys in his hand.

The drive to Michael’s place passed in a blur. Scenery melted across your window as you dully pressed your arm against it, your face resting in the crook of your elbow. Your muscles felt atrophied into the passenger’s seat, your mind was numbed to a dull buzz, you stared out the window and saw nothing, and after all of the impossible things and complicated mysteries that needed explaining, you could only think collapsing into bed. Your eyes were lidded and your breathing was slow. The car’s drone was just ambient enough to calm your fused mind. The relief was enough to make you sigh.

It was only when the car came to a stop that you realized you were half asleep. Michael wordlessly got out of the car, closing the door with enough sound to wake you up completely, and you followed him mindlessly.

You hardly had the energy to take in your surroundings, but even exhaustion wasn’t enough to keep you from wondering how a corpse lived. The answer? Incredibly boring. His flat was small, just enough room for one person, and minimally decorated. No pictures, no aesthetics or ornaments, no personal touch—you might as well have been in a stock photo if it wasn’t slightly messy.

Michael dropped his backpack on the bills scattered across his small dining room table. He took off his mask and hat, his dark brown hair ruffled slightly, and tossed them on the table as well. As he opened the fridge he pointed nonchalantly to the bedroom door.

“Shower’s on the right.”

You guessed that meant you needed a shower.

Michael’s bedroom had slightly more personality to it, emphasis on slightly. A few pieces of clothing were strewn about the floor, the bed was rushedly made, and empty soda cans piled in the trash bin. Though the bed called for you, you forced yourself to the bathroom anyway.

Your reflection was haunted, just as you imagined, but you didn’t look as bad as you thought you would. Eyes bloodshot and dark circles for days, but the worse feature was the ugly yellowing bruise beginning to form around your throat. It would turn blue and purple before too long, and you swore you could make our large, thick fingers in its shape. You swallowed and turned to the shower. You didn’t want to think about that.

Steam filled the bathroom after a minute of letting the hot water run. Michael didn’t have any shampoo or conditioner. After snooping through his bathroom quickly (in case he kept them somewhere weird—and because it’s fun to snoop) you found a few dark brown wigs instead. That made sense; his hair was his most living feature. He did, however, have an endless assortment of different soaps. None of which able to mask his smell, unfortunately.

You wondered if you would end up smelling like him? You picked the soap in your favorite scent and lathered your body in it.

Stepping out of the shower, the motion of peeling back on the clothes you sweated, cried, and vomited over was too much to even think about. Instead, you picked up a hoodie off the floor, one that seemed slightly too big for Michael, and slipped it on. Whatever damage you mended using the soap was undone the moment you put on the hoodie, but you were too tired to care.

You could hear the TV playing from beyond Michael’s room. You couldn’t wait for him to finish whatever he was watching and you didn’t have the energy to discuss where you’d be sleeping, so you collapsed on his bed.

You were out the moment your head hit the pillow.

───── (\ /) ─────

You woke up disoriented, aching, and somehow still drained. Weren’t naps supposed to make you less tired? Your disorientation only grew when you didn’t recognize where you were, your vision teetering back into focus.

The fog of sleep cleared when your hand touched something spongy and cold. It was Michael’s hand. Your memory of last night (morning?) came back to you. You rolled your head over to the nightstand and instantly hissed in pain. Your neck hurt like hell and just turning made it enough to throb with pain. When the pain subsided, you slowly opened your eyes. 6:42 PM. You slept twelve hours. Your head felt like you slept three.

You rolled your head, this time slowly and carefully, back over to Michael. He was sleeping in the bed with you, lying on his back with an arm nestled behind his pillow. For some reason, he was wearing his wig to bed. That couldn’t be comfortable.

You didn’t know when he came to bed with you or if he got a full night’s (day’s?) rest, but you couldn’t wait around for him to wake up. You poked his shoulder. “Michael.”

He grumbled, sleepily. He turned his head away from you, revealing parts of his jawbone visible through abraded skin.

You poked his shoulder again, “Michael.” You insisted.

He swatted at you.

You smacked his shoulder, “Michael, wake up !”

He cursed, grabbing his shoulder, “ What? What—?!” Michael’s voice caught in his throat when he turned to you, his void eyes going wide. You had to be only inches apart as you stared at him, unphased by your closeness. He awkwardly shuffled away from you, scooching inch by inch to put some distance between you too. You blanked. He was the one who decided to sleep in the same bed as you, what did he have to be bashful for? “What is it.”

“What is it?” You sat up, fistfulls of blanket in your hand as you ignored your pounding head. You tried to keep your tone controlled, but you nearly bit your own tongue in your frustration. “ What is it? A seven-foot massive bunny robot tried to kill me twice and—!”

“Rabbit,” Michael interrupted you. “Bonnie is a rabbit, not a bunny.”

“I’m gonna kill you.”

“Can’t this wait until after breakfast?”

You swiped the pillow out from under his head and tried to smother him with it. After just a second of struggling with it, he easily pried it out of your hands.

“Alright, alright,” He sat up with a groan, rubbing the back of his neck. “But coffee first. No discussion.”

Your jaw tensed, but you forced yourself to relax with a worried sigh. You stood up, “Okay. How do you take your coffee?”

The corpse collapsed back into bed, swinging the pillow behind his head with closed eyes, “Four sugars, two cream.”

You managed to navigate through Michael’s kitchen—which only had the bare necessities: minimal cutlery, meager pantry, an air fryer but no toaster—well enough to make two cups of coffee, one prepared exactly how you like yours. You organized your thoughts, figuring which questions you should ask first and how. You were having trouble sorting out the mad hell that happened last night, let alone figuring out what happened to your best friend. First you needed to know what was going on, then you could take steps on finding them.

You sat on the bed and handed Michael his mug. He mumbled a thanks and took a few gulps, despite how scalding it was. You once again couldn’t tear your eyes off of the window in his cheeks revealing liquid rushing down his throat.

“Alright,” He said with an exhale, setting his three-quarters empty mug on the bedside table. “Who are you and why did you break into the pizzeria?”

You almost started yelling at him again, but you stopped yourself. He saved your life twice, the least you could do was go first. You lowered your eyes as Michael watched you intently, his expression betraying nothing. You pulled out your phone and played the last message your best friend sent. Michael listened without saying a word.

“Someone I care about worked the night shift before you,” You locked your phone and kept it face down in your lap. You didn’t look Michael in the eyes out of fear you might start crying. “I need to know what happened to them.”

“They’re probably dead.”

Your eyes were storms as you stared daggers at him, tears forming thick droplets, “ You don’t know that. ” The venom in your voice was tempered by its tremble.

Michael was silent as you swabbed at your tears with his hoodie you were wearing. When he spoke next, he was slower, as if treading carefully, “ If you find any answers, you won’t like them. And that’s if you don’t share their fate. Go home. ”

“ I won’t, ” You said through teeth tight enough to grind. “I won’t. Not until I find them, or-or I find what happened to them and-and—”

“And then what?” Michael challenged, “What are you going to do once you find out?”

You waved your hands in the air, frustratedly, “I’ll figure out what I want to do when we get there!”

Michael sighed, long and tired. He grabbed his mug, swirled it around for a bit, and then downed the rest of his drink. He exhaled when he was done, “I’m not going to help you get yourself killed.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” You said, stubbornly.

“Yes, you did,” He put his mug down on the bedside. “You asked me to keep him on camera eight.”

There was that ‘ him ’ again. “Okay, but I don’t need your help.”

He raised a brow, unimpressed, “Yes, you do.”

Now was the time to change the subject, “Why do you keep calling it ‘ him ’?” As if startled by your own question, you realized you hadn’t asked the ones you planned. “In fact, why is it alive? Why are you alive? And why is it trying to kill me? What happened last night?”

Michael set his jaw while you gained your breath, just realizing how worked up those questions made you. “What do you think happened last night?” He asked.

You opened your mouth while your eyes scanned the floor, as if the dingy carpet held the answer. Your brow knotted in confusion, “You call it ‘ him ’ because it’s Bonnie. Its programming makes it seem alive. You’re just really sick. It has faulty wiring. Last night was a horrible horrible accident. That’s what I was telling myself.” But even saying it now, you didn’t believe a word of it.

“Good,” He said. “You’re right.”

You trained your eyes on him, “No, I’m not.”

“For your sake, you are.”

“No.” You insisted, more determined. “I’m not.”

He exhaled sharply, “You’re too stubborn.”

“I was honest with you,” You pleaded, softening your expression in an effort to appeal to his conscience.

He set his jaw again (you could even see the grind of his teeth through his worn skin), and though his expressions were nearly impossible to read, you were starting to recognize his tells. “Don’t come back to the attraction.”

“I can’t—”

“ They’re gone. ” He said, and he didn’t know how cruel he was being. You couldn’t even tell if he felt guilty when new tears fell down your cheeks. “Be satisfied that you didn’t share their fate.”

You wiped your tears, shaking with anger and grief. You hated Michael for saying that, for pointing out something you feared more than anything. “There was no body,” You said, weakly. Even you knew it wasn’t a great defense.

“It was probably stuffed in a costume,” He said, heartlessly. “Or in an animatronic torso. He’s anything if not consistent...” The last part he said more to himself, but you didn’t miss it.

You found your voice, “What does that mean?”

When his eyes met yours, he sighed, “Don’t come back to Fazbear’s Fright, okay?”

You bit your lip and stared holes into the floor. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and clearing your mind. Then, you nodded, tentatively.

“What do you know about the kids that went missing at the pizzeria? The one Fazbear’s Fright is based on?”

You looked back up at him before furrowing your brow in concentration, “I know a little. A bunch of kids went missing in the 80s. A lot of people thought they were murdered, but their bodies were never found. I know someone was charged, but they never found any evidence.”

“That’s because they couldn’t find the bodies.”

You swallowed.

“They were stuffed into the animatronics.”

You couldn’t help but stare, horrified. Michael was patient with you as you fumbled through your next question, “How do you know that?”

“Because my dad did it.”

You almost reeled back in shock, “Oh my god.” You said, incredulously. Maybe a serial killer dad shouldn’t have shocked you. Afterall, you were sitting and chatting with a zombie. You still couldn’t help the surprise coming from a national cold case solved. “Wow. Uh. God.”

“Yeah,” Michael was as nonchalant as ever.

“Okay,” You said, slowly nodding. “So this old Bonnie animatronic is... is one of these kids? Or their ghost or...?”

“No,” He said. “It’s my dad.”

This time, you did reel back. “ What? ”

“Yeah.”

“... What? ”

“Yeah.”

“No, I need you to explain,” You said.

“I’m not sure,” He scratched the back of his head. “That suit, the Spring Bonnie suit, he used to lure kids. It’s a springlock suit—” He shifted when he saw your confusion, “Part animatronic, part costume, held together by sensitive spring locks that snap shut. It looks like they went off while he was still inside. Can’t say he didn’t have it coming. Too bad he didn’t stay dead.”

“Oh my god,” You wrung your face with your hands. “That’s-That’s unbelievable. I can’t-... I’m in a horror movie.” You turned to him, “ He’s still in it? ”

“Yep.”

You shook your head slowly, “How is he still alive?”

Michael shrugged.

“How are you alive?”

Michael soured, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

You didn’t push him, less for his sake and more for your own. You don’t know if you could take any more ghost stories. “A child killer is- is reanimated in the seven-foot-tall rabbit suit he killed and died in, and now wants to—What? Haunt the haunted pizzeria attraction?”

Michael shrugged, “I guess.”

You threw your hands up in the air exasperatedly, before dropping them loudly on the bed.

“He’s not... himself.”

You sighed, “What does that mean?”

Michael shrugged again, but this time more unsure, “You saw it yourself. What serial killer would stop mid-kill just because they heard a child’s laughter?”

You almost shivered at the memory of it—monstrous creature over you, crowbar in hand, eyes distorting and twitching— but he was right, “There was something strange in its— his eyes. They looked too human, which was eerie enough, but when you... when you played the audio clip, it was like the robot was battling for control.”

Michael hummed at that, “I don’t think it’s just my dad anymore.”

“Your serial killer dad.” You said, more to mention the absurdity of the situation.

Michael wasn’t pleased by it, “Yes. My serial killer dad. Apparently he’s been stuck behind a plastered wall for thirty years, so maybe he just lost his mind. Or maybe the suit has some leftover code that he can’t control. Probably, it’s a bit of both. But...”

You waited in anticipation for him to finish.

He shook his head, “It doesn’t matter. What matters is he won’t stop until he gets what he wants, and he’s not lucid enough to listen to reason.”

“What does he want?”

“To kill.” In Michael’s low, shredded voice, his grim warning sent a shiver up your spine. “So it’s good that you're not coming back, right?”

“But what are you doing here?” You asked, “Are you trying to stop him?”

“You’re not coming back, right? ” He bore holes into you with those unnerving, hallowed eyes of his.

You swallowed, “Right.”

───── (\ /) ─────

Wrong.

You parked your car off to the side where Michael wouldn’t be able to see; in the shadow of Fazbear’s Fright.

At least, now that you knew what you were dealing with (a serial killer in the metal body of a giant rabbit—that still felt absurd) you could be prepared for it. And just like the rabbit, you wouldn’t stop until you got what you wanted. Answers. And if the answers hurt too much...

Revenge.

34 notes · View notes

girlinlotsoffandoms · 11 months ago

Text

day one - stab wound

notes: hi friends and welcome to febwhump 2024 or sev whump as I've been calling it. that's right, 29 days where I hurt or torture everyone's favorite squad lieutenant!

read on AO3 or below

It was a calm night at Molly’s, something the members of Firehouse 51 desperately needed after the past few shifts they’d had. The first cold snap of the season had brought snow and ice along with it, causing multiple car accidents and house fires that made for hectic shifts.

The entirety of 51’s second shift, even Boden, had made it to Molly’s that night. They all wanted to relax with a beer or two before heading to their homes for two days of well-deserved rest. The only one who hadn’t made it to Molly’s yet was Kelly, who’d met at the Fire Academy with the other instructors. Stella expected him soon though, he’d texted her when he left the Academy and told her he was heading over.

The relaxing night everyone so desperately wanted was promptly ruined when the door to Molly’s burst open and a young woman, barely over 21, ran into the bar. Her hair was wild, and mascara-stained tear streaks painted her cheeks, but the most alarming thing to everyone in the room was the bright red blood staining her hands.

“Help, please!” She cried from the door. “Someone call 911!”

It was those magic words that made everyone jump into action. The members of 51 sprang to their feet and ran towards the girl. Brett and Violet reached her first, immediately followed by the others.

Brett and Violet started checking her for injuries. “What’s your name sweetie?” Violet asked.

“M-Meagan.”

“Hi Meagan,” Brett said with a smile, trying to calm the girl. “Can you tell us what happened? Where are you hurt?”

Meagan shook her head. “No no no, it’s not me. You have to help him!”

“Help who? What happened?” Stella asked.

“My friend, Ava, and I were walking home and one of the guys from the bar down the street was following us, harassing us. He grabbed Ava’s arm and started being aggressive with her. Then this other guy runs up, pulls him away, and stands in between us and him. He told him to leave but the guy pulled a knife and he just…. he stabbed him!” Meagan explained, a fresh round of tears running down her face. “Ava’s in nursing school, she started applying pressure but he needs help!”

Boden pulled the phone away from his ear, 911 dispatch still on the line. “CPD and an ambo are a few minutes out.”

“Let’s go,” Herrmann ordered. He grabbed the first aid kit from behind the bar and led the group out of Molly's and into the chilly Chicago night.

It didn't take them long at all to find what they were looking for. There on the ground, on the other side of the street, was their victim. The closer they got though, they realized their victim wasn’t just a good Samaritan who tried to help someone in need.

“Oh my god,” Stella exclaimed. “Kelly!”

Stella sprinted the last few feet and dropped to her knees by Kelly’s side. Her eyes roamed over his body and her stomach dropped. Stella had never been one to be squeamish but the sight of her husband’s blood pouring onto the sidewalk made bile rise in her throat.

Out of the corner of her eye, Stella saw Ritter helping Ava up and Brett and Violet beginning to try and help Kelly but her focus was solely on Kelly. His eyes were glassy, and Stella could tell he was fighting to stay awake.

She moved closer to his head and laid a hand on his cheek, trying to keep his attention. “Hey, Kelly, stay awake ok?”

“Stell-“ Kelly started, quietly.

“Shhh, I’m right here,” Stella shushed him gently. “Don’t try and talk ok? Help’s on the way.”

“Girls?”

“They’re ok,” Stella said, a sad smile on her face. “You saved them.”

At Stella’s assurance that Ava and Meagan were safe, Kelly lost his hold on consciousness.

“No, no, no, Kelly!” Stella yelled, panicked. She tapped his cheek but Kelly didn’t respond.

Stella turned towards Brett and Violet, hoping for some reassurance, but the grim looks on their faces did the opposite. “What-?”

“The bleeding won’t stop,” Violet growled, frustrated. She tossed the bloodied gauze to the side, where a terrifying pile of soiled gauze had rapidly grown over the last few minutes.

Brett’s hands replaced Violet’s with fresh gauze, but it quickly began turning red. “I think the knife might have hit his spleen,” she said grimly.

“Where the hell is the ambulance?!” Stella cried.

“They’re pulling up now!” Cruz called from the street. He and the others from 51 had formed a barrier around their downed teammate and friend, keeping the curious masses away from the scene.

Sure enough, the street was soon bathed in sirens and flashing red and blue lights as the ambulance and a few CPD cruisers arrived. The paramedics made quick work getting Severide stable enough for transport. They loaded him into the ambulance, Stella climbing in right after.

“Stella,” Boden called from the doors of the ambulance. “We’ll meet you at the hospital as soon as we can.”

Stella gave a curt nod and turned her attention back to Kelly. Boden closed the ambulance doors and thumped it twice, signaling it was good to go.

The ambulance took off, lights and sirens blaring toward Med, leaving the shell-shocked group of first responders behind, drowning in a sea of red and blue and concern for their friend.

… … …

It was barely controlled chaos in the ambulance. Stella had taken over applying pressure to the wound while the paramedic got Kelly hooked up to the monitors and an IV started.

No matter how much pressure Stella applied, or how much she begged and pleaded, the bleeding just wouldn’t stop. Her husband, the love of her life, was bleeding out right in front of her and there was nothing she could do to stop it. This was not how their story was supposed to end–after everything they’d been through, this wasn’t how things were supposed to go.

Tears fell from Stella’s eyes. It’d been a while since she acted as a paramedic but the knowledge hadn’t left her. She knew Kelly had lost a lot of blood…was still losing a lot of blood. He needed surgery and transfusions and a hospital and he needed it fast but Stella knew there was no guarantee even that would be enough to save him.

Her mental and emotional turmoil was interrupted by the paramedic taking over holding pressure on the wound with fresh gauze.

Stella moved away towards Kelly’s head. She grabbed one of his hands, squeezed it, and leaned in close to him. “Don’t leave me, Kelly Severide. Don’t leave me.”

… … …

Stella had been alone in the waiting room for almost half an hour when the rest of 51 rolled in. They spotted Stella immediately and quickly hurried to her side. Brett and Violet, both now free of Severide’s blood, sat on either side of her and wrapped their arms around her.

“Any update?” Brett asked gently.

“They’re still working on him. Maggie said she’d update me as soon as she could.” Stella answered flatly. She was numb at this point. “Are Meagan and Ava ok?”

“PD took their statements and escorted them back to their apartments.” Boden shared, looking at Stella carefully. “Physically, they’ll both be fine. Mentally and emotionally, well…they’ve been connected with some resources to help them with that.”

Stella nodded. She understood that; they’d all be pretty messed up mentally and emotionally for a while. Seeing someone you love, a friend and teammate, bleeding out on the pavement will do that.

“What about the asshole who did this?”

“Cameras in the area caught the harassment and the stabbing, along with the guy’s face.” Mouch chimed in. “The officers on scene are looking for him and Trudy called Voight, so now Intelligence is involved as well. They’ll get him.”

Nodding, Stella went to say something else before jumping out of her seat at the sight of Maggie entering the waiting room.

“How is he?” Stella asked desperately.

“Dr. Marcel took him into surgery a few minutes ago. Scans confirmed the knife hit his spleen,” Maggie explained gently. It was always hard when a first responder was hurt but the entire Med team had soft spots for the firefighters of Firehouse 51. “He’ll be in surgery for a few hours. If you want to move up to the surgical waiting room, I’ll have someone keep you updated.”

“Thanks Maggie.”

… … …

It was several hours later, long past midnight, when Stella and the others got the news they had been desperately waiting to hear: Severide was out of surgery and would make a full recovery.

Dr. Marcel had been able to save his spleen but they’d be keeping a close eye on Kelly in the ICU for a few days to make sure no more bleeding occurred. Kelly also had to have several blood transfusions, so he’d be weaker than normal as his body recuperated.

He’d be off work for a while and would need PT and a lot of rest but he would heal.

Everyone in the waiting room was relieved, the stress of the night falling off of them. Stella once again had tears streaming down her face only this time, they were tears of joy.

“Thank you, Dr. Marcel.”

“You’re welcome,” Dr. Marcel said. He hugged Stella briefly then stepped back. “He’s in recovery now but they’ll be moving him to a room soon. Visiting hours are over but we’ll make it so you guys can see him for a minute. Stella, you’ll be able to stay overnight with him but the rest of you should go home and get some sleep.”

There were nods all around. After years as first responders, they were all seasoned pros regarding hospital and visitation guidelines. They were all just grateful they’d be able to see Severide.

Stella was thankful she was automatically given the green light to stay with Kelly in the ICU. She was prepared to do whatever it took to stay with her husband, hospital rules and visiting hours be damned.

… … …

It was a quiet night in Kelly’s ICU room. After seeing Kelly and saying goodbye to Stella, the other members of 51 headed home with the promise of returning later that day. Stella had settled into the chair by Kelly’s bed, grabbed his hand, and waited for him to wake up.

She ended up falling into a fitful sleep, the uncomfortable chair and constant interruptions from medical staff coming in to check on Kelly keeping her from getting more than an hour or so at a time. It certainly didn’t help that every time she closed her eyes, she saw her husband bleeding out in agonizing detail.

Those images were why she forced herself to stay awake, downing cups of crappy hospital coffee to try and avoid that nightmare as long as she could. She’d lived through it once; she didn’t want to experience it again.

It was, however, because of that very real nightmare and the fear and anxiety surrounding it, that Stella was wide awake when Kelly started moving the hand she was holding.

“Kelly?” Stella’s voice was gentle, but the emotion still rang clear. She stood from her chair to be closer to the bed, still gripping his hand. “You with me?”

The wait seemed painfully slow but eventually Stella was rewarded with the sight of Kelly’s beautiful blue eyes. Stella smiled her first real smile in hours as happy tears filled her eyes. She moved her free hand up to Kelly’s cheek. “There you are. How do you feel?”

Still groggy from a combination of blood loss, anesthesia-induced sleep, and pain meds, all Kelly could do was groan in response to Stella, making her chuckle. “That well, huh?”

“Yeah,” Kelly grumbled, his voice thick from being unused. Stella quickly poured him a cup of water and held the straw to his lips so he could drink. After a few sips, Stella took the cup away to keep him from overdoing it. “Meagan and Ava. Are they okay?”

“They’re fine, babe. You saved them.” Stella tried to keep her voice from cracking but the longer she looked at Kelly she was reminded of what had happened and she couldn’t stop the tears from falling. “You scared the hell out of me. Seeing you like that I thought…. I thought I was going to lose you.”

There wasn’t much Kelly could say because he knew how close he’d come to dying, to leaving Stella behind. Telling her he was okay wasn’t the best bet, given how horrible he felt, so he went in a different direction. “I’m sorry I scared you. I just, I saw that asshole messing with Meagan and Ava and I knew I had to do something. I just thought he was drunk… I didn’t think he’d have a knife.”

“I know.” Stella squeezed his hand. “You’re a good man Kelly Severide and I love you so much but please, don’t get stabbed again.”

“I will try my hardest not to,” Kelly chuckled, but it was quickly cut off by a groan.

Stella rubbed his arm soothingly and hit the call button on the wall behind his bed. He’d been awake long enough without a nurse or doctor coming in to check on him and it was clear to Stella that he needed some pain meds whether he said so or not. She could see it in his eyes.

It didn’t take long for a nurse to enter the room and Dr. Marcel followed soon after. He was pleased with what the monitors were showing and how Kelly’s incision looked. Dr. Marcel wasn’t ready to move him out of the ICU just yet, but things were looking promising. They hooked Kelly up to a pain pump so he could give himself a bolus of pain meds when he needed it.

With pain meds on board, Kelly fell back asleep quickly. Now that she wasn’t crippled with worry, Stella felt lighter. There was still fear and anxiety lurking in the shadows and she was sure the memories of last night would stay with them both for a long time, but Kelly would be okay and they would deal with it together.

#febwhump #sev whump #kelly severide #chicago fire #stellaride #girlinlotsoffandomfics

13 notes · View notes

yinnina · 2 years ago

Text

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚃𝚘 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚅𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜' 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍

My head started throbbing in pain, screaming for light while my lungs shouted for some air to be let inside. I tried opening my eyes, but I couldn't see anything, and darkness had taken over my vision.

I began to feel as my head stirred, making me hokd it in place as I closed my eyes. My vision didn't turn any darker than it was, but rather lighter, and once I opened them again, I saw the face of a man with beautiful features that were contained within him, but everything went dark once again.

Once I managed to move inside the stuffy cage-like, I started to see the top of the box opening, meeting the eyes of a small animal that looked to be a cat.

'Just where am I? This is clearly not the academy.'

I didn't pay much attention to the cat, but rather myself, and once I turned to look at clothes, I saw that I was wearing something different than the usual outfit I wore. A black hood with a purple layer on the inside along with some white patterns that spread through some part of the hood.

I noticed that I had black clothes underneath too, which shocked me and put me in a train of thoughts as to who changed my clothes.

I decided to pay attention to my surroundings as I had witnessed that the cat-like animal was now staring at me. "What?! You ain't supposed to be awake!" Screamed the creature in shock.

"Floating coffins?..." I murmured, not paying attention to the talking cat.

"Oh-ho! You got a lot of nerve ignoring me, human! The name's grim. Believe me, you won't forget it!" I saw as Grim crossed his little arms, furious at the thought of being ignored, "Now give me your uniform, and be quick about it!

"'Cause if you don't," blue fire started spreading all around me like a wildfire, "you're gonna regret it!"

"I would've never dreamed of getting roasted by some weasel-like creature..." I whispered, angering the creature.

"Well, keep dreaming, 'cause I ain't no weasel!"

"What is it you want?" I asked, and Grim seemed satisfied with my question, smirking as he crossed his arms once again, "Your uniform, of course! I need it more than you would ever need it!"

While he was speaking, I noticed that there was an exit through the fire, and I decided to take it to my advantage. I ran all over the place, opening and closing doors as I passed through them, finally making it to what seemed to be a library.

'If this is a dream, I believe I'm ready to wake up now.'

Just then, Grim appeared in front of me once again. His face held the same grin I had seen previously, and his flames surrounded me for a second time, "Foolish human! Did you really think you could slip away from me?! Now, unless you wanna get burned to a crisp, take that off that-"

Grim was cut off by a whip-like sound that came from behind him, "YEOW! That Hurt! What gives?..."

"Consider it though love," I saw as a man came into our vision, wearing a formal attire with a top hat and a mask that probably represented a bird.

"Ah," he turned to look at me, "I've found you at last, splendid. I trust you're one of this year's new students?"

"My," I saw as he looked me up and done, almost as if judgemental, "were you ever eager to make your debut. And bringing a poorly trained familiar with you? That is a clear violation of the school's rules."

"I don't even-" "As if I'd serve some lowly human! Now let me go!" Screamed the furry creature, interrupting me mid-sentence.

The man got closer to the floating animal, shushing it as it talked, "Yes, yes. Rebellious familiars always say that. Do be quiet for a bit, won't you?"

Grim tried to talk, but he couldn't, which confused me a little. This made me go back to before all of this. Why exactly was I here when I already had a chosen school?

I remembered the academy. It was a huge, all-girls school called Rose Killer Academy, named after the founder, who was a young, smart woman who everyone knew due to her wisdom.

I was already a third year, so it made me wonder why exactly I was stuck in this situation. And thinking about it brought me back to the person who stood in front of me.

By the looks of the uniforms, it was one of the colleges that Rose Killer Academy held a grudge against. And knowing that it wasn't Royal Sword Academy thanks to the dark colored theme uniforms, I came to the conclusion that it was their major rival.

Both schools were all-boys schools, so I had a hard time believing that they must've mistaken me for another student. But needless to say, I decided to ignore it at the moment, only speaking when necessary.

"Dear me. Of all the students I've dealt with, you two are the first ones with temerity enough to open their own gate and step out of it," I hadn't noticed before, but was this other student, a boy, standing next to the crow-man, wearing the same uniform as me, "does the very notion of patience elide you two?

"No matter. Your orientation has already begun. Let us return to the Mirror Chamber."

Me and the boy stood quietly for a brief second, only for the silence to be broken by his voice, "Student?..."

The man with the mask nodded in response, "You awakened in a room full of gates, did you not? All the students here at the campus arrived by passing through such gates," he crossed his arms in an irritated manner, "although typically the students have restraint enough to wait until I pen them before waking up."

"So these coffins are like, gateways?" I asked, and the boy agreed with me, "I think something blew the lid off mine."

He looked at the younger boy, who was now standing next to me, "The culprit appears to be that familiar of yours. You're the one who insisted on bringing it, so curtailing its behavior is your responsibility!" He placed his hand under his chin, thinking of a solution, "But now is not the time for such prattle. You two have a student orientation to attend. Go on, now. Make haste."

"First, just tell me one thing: Where am I?" The boy asked, and I agreed, "I think you've mistaken me for someone."

"Hmm? Have you two not fully regained consciousness? The timespace teleportation must have added your memories. Well, these things happen, I suppose. I shall explain it to you while we walk. Truly, my magnanimity is boundless."

We exited the building, onto the courtyard, and as he explained where we currently were, I decided to stay quiet on the topic that I was actually a girl, since they hadn't noticed yet.

"Only those who the Dark Mirror perceived as having a talent for magic are admitted to the college. Those who are selected are summoned to the campus through those gates, which can appear anywhere."

The man, who I now knew as Crowley, informed us about the carriage, which both me and the student remembered.

We both heard the muffled sounds of Grim, but Crowley decided to speak up, "Now, let us attend to your orientation."

"Wait!"

Both males turned to look at me. "Is there something wrong?" Asked the masked guy.

"There is, in fact, something wrong," I took off my hood from my head, revealing my face to them, "this is an all-boys school, isn't it? The problem is, I'm a female, not a male."

Crowley was deep in thought, placing his hand under his chin, "There must've been a mistake made, but if you were really brought by the Dark Mirror, then you must've been chosen, or something along those lines. Say, where are you from?"

I stayed silent, not knowing how to answer, "Well?"

"I'm from the Walking Sands Desert, but I attend Rose Killer Academy as a third year. I'm not sure what you will do with that information, but I shall assume that it will come in handy," I crossed my arms, making eye contact with Crowley as the nameless boy just stood there confused.

"Walking Sand Desert? Rose Killer Academy? I think I'm missing something."

I nodded, then explained about the academy to the youngster, "Rose Killer Academy is a strict college that many of the smartest, wisest and talented people go to. The school has its ups and downs, for while you are seen as one of the most prestigious people, the stress keeps mounting on as the years go.

"Not many people qualify, and the headmistress held various, strict rules that no one dared break out of fear. Students couldn't fail a year, or else you would gain a harsh punishment. No one was suggested nor invited to take part in the school, the students were expected to pass a test that contained the use of agility, ability, magic and wisdom in order to pass and get into said school. There were also many minor rules, but if I were to name them all, we would be stuck here for years."

The headmaster cleared his throat, placing his hand under his chin, "Walking Sand Desert is, in other words, a matriarch Kingdom, and while there are kings, it is the female that carries most of the responsibilities and holds more power. The place is extremely guarded, and the only people who are allowed inside are the people that have permission of the royal family. The kingdom is not always reachable, due to its strict rules, but it can be found in its own land, between Sunset Savannah and Queendom of Roses.

"The [L/N]'s currently consist of a king and queen, along with their daughter. Nothing much is known from both the family of rulers nor the land, all that can be said, is that they are a powerful kingdom who, even with their strong army, prefer keeping peace.

"And with the key information that no one other than royalty and special families are allowed out of the city, I'll take the wild guess that you are [Y/N] [L/N], am I right?"

I crossed my arms, not rather shocked by how quick he was to find out, "That is correct, although, people are allowed out of the city with permission of the royal. But needless to say, I presume that, since now you know who I am, you will keep me here longer to bring an eye to your school, correct?"

The headmaster chuckled, dismissing me. While Crowley led us, I turned to look at the student next to me, "Say, you never told me your name."

"Huh, me? Sorry! Call me Yuu, it's a pleasure meeting you."

We exchanged a few words, until we turned our attention back to the bird masked man. He brought me and Yuu to a room full of people, who wore an identical outfit to ours. The room was not only heavily crowded, but it also carried a mysterious aura to it. Coffins levitated through the air, and a mirror laid in front of our eyes.

"We're done with orientation and dorm assignments?" Asked a boy with red hair, "All right, new students-let me be clear. At Heartslabyul House, I am the law. Break the rules, and it's off with your head!"

Then, a boy who had long haired, some parts braided, yawned, "Well, that ceremony was as boring as ever. I'm going back to the dorm. If you're in Savanaclaw House, follow me."

A boy who wore glasses then spoke, "New students! Allow me to be the first to congratulate you on your achievement. As dorm leader of Octavinelle House, I am honored to have the opportunity to support you in what I hope will be a fulfilling campus experience."

I then saw a boy with blond hair that faded into a shade of purple speak, looking around for someone, "Hey, does anyone know where the headmage went? He disappeared midway through the ceremony..."

He was replied to by some other boys, but that was when the headmaster decided to speak up, responding to the boy who thought he disappeared due to a stomach ache, "I most certainly did not!"

"Speak of the devil," One murmured.

"If you must know, I was searching for two new students who'd failed to show for orientation. You two are the only ones who have yet to be assigned a dorm. Let [Y/N] be the first to step up to the Dark Mirror, and be quick about it. I'll watch your weasel."

Grim tried to speak once again, but failed in the process. I walked up to the mirror that held a face, or rather a mask, and it asked me for my name.

"[Y/N]. My name is [Y/N] [L/N]."

The mask repeated my name in a low tone, and whispers started spreading as I pulled my hood down from my face, revealing my female features.

"The nature of your soul is..." It stayed silent for a few moments, and everyone got quiet, waiting for the results. The mirror furrowed his eyebrows in frustration, "In a balance."

"What?"

"Your soul... It is balanced between two houses, Heartslabyul and Savanaclaw. It will be placed upon you to determine which house you will go to."

I looked back to the headmage, and saw that he was in just as much shock as I was. I sighed, "I'll give Heartslabyul a try."

#leona twst #leona x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #leona kingscholar #twst leona #twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst mc #leona x you #leona x yuu #leona x y/n #leona kingscholar x mc #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar x yuu #female #fanfic #twst fanfic

46 notes · View notes

cartoon-buffoon · 4 months ago

Text

Here's the objective, factual— if you disagree you're a mook—Cartoon Cat song tier list (/J, this is my personal ranking)

Explanation (going down from the tiers)

S Tier

Toon Catastrophe: I love this song, incredibly catchy with some good lyrics, not what I feel like a standard CC song should be but I think that works for it really well. I think the grim and depressing lyrics about how absolutely fucked you are while this snappy catchy beat really adds to it, there's also a decent part of humor with the humans characters in the song acting casual about this eldtritch monstrosity saying "maybe he needs the ol' litter box!". This part could make some people dislike the song yet I feel like it being goofy actually fits because CC is powerful but having him be a goofy element to his sinister presence does wonders. Not to mention this moment DOES NOT LAST and a few minutes later CC himself sings and comes out with STRAIGHT BARSthat give me chills:

"You can tiptoe and run all you want! I'm on the prowl, and I'm just being blunt but you're lookin' delicious, you're lookin' nutritious, you're probably going to sleep with the fishes! Cartoon Cat, I'm the Cartoon Cat, I'm the one and only, imagine that! The flavor of human is truly divine, let's count down the seconds before you die"

Only for CC to do a whispery countdown and then it goes back to singing. THATS STRAIGHT FIRE deserved top of S-tier plus the visuals look great with CC being stylized but still pretty accurate to Mr. Henderson's works, his walk cycle is pretty eerie and I love that too.

Run Away: it's fucking crazy this is 4 years old and it still holds up. The voice they give CC has been exactly how it sounds in my head since I've watched this It's one of my favorite voices for him with it being incredibly snarky and playful but still sinister. The entire song is essentially CC going on about how he's going to catch you and eat you which granted isn't very creative but with the rhythm so good it doesn't need to be. The simple lyrics work for it as well so the lack of creativity regarding the song doesn't matter, not to mention the bit after the second chorus utilizing a piano has to be my favorite parts. Overall good rhythm and in general solid.

A Tier

I honestly believe both entires in A tier are great and it was hard to put them down here, I wanted to put them both in S and it was a kinda 3-way tie with Run Away being considered to be put down here but ultimately I chose against it.

Tapes of Old: "but this isn't a Cartoon Cat song! It's a cartoon dog song–" SHUT UP MY TIER LIST MY RULES! SHUSH! SHHHH! Sorry but I actually really love this song, it doesn't really paint CD as a "good guy" like some people love to HC him as being the good version of CC meant to kill CC. Instead CD is just another creature with immense power who hates CC and they've had an eternal battle spanning across forever, it's been so long they don't even know why they fight they merely do, it's LITERALLY like cats and dogs. CD is pretty goofy looking in the video yet this works great and the run cycle of him on all fours sprinting creeps me out and if I saw that running at me oh yeah no that would be fucking terrifying. There's a specific section of the song that I believe implies CC and CD are harmonizing as well? Like after the second chorus there's a bit where it goes "our fight continues on and on! It keeps on going, never done! I keep thinking that cat is gone but it tells me RUN, RUN, RUN! it's a cycle I cannot escape, chasing forever this cat and a day, I refuse to take this as my fate! Some day I will put down the stray!". I heavily believe this is both of them singing at once with CD taking over only briefly to talk about the cat not dying, but the part where it goes "some day I will put down the stray!" It switches between the animation of CC walking and CD walking with "stray" being a neutral term for an animal with both calling the other a stray. The shared hatred and story these lyrics give make it soooo good plus it's fun to listen to, yeah once again struggled to put it down here in A.

Masquerade: also once again, I didn't really want to put this in A nor put this below Tapes of Old or Run Away as I believe these 3 are pretty on par with one and another. I bit the bullet though and this song? Although I don't believe it's the BEST CC song, it's my FAVORITE because the lyrics are once again aren't overly creative similar to Run Away and it's merely talking about how he's gonna get ya and you can't hide ya know. I will say though the title of the song and the tagline lyrics "After my little masquerade", I specifically love this masquerade line as it's a reference to the fact that CC isn't a cat nor cartoon. It's one giant act in order to latch onto this world and he just loves pretending to be one because he's something that is god-like. This is especially reflected in the lyrics that paints a real sense of hopelessness as while he also talks about killing he also does a good job demonstrating why running is pointless saying "Oh I have so much power!" Or "oh you don't know what I can do, especially to prey like you". This confidence combined with the voice they gave CC that's echoey and generally emotionless is so good as it once again paints a very vivid picture this is a mere game to him, all of it including your life means nothing to him and you're only alive because he's having fun. He doesn't need to worry about a thing, you're in his sights and it's over. Not to mention the visuals? OOOO, the SFM CC model is the perfect blend between fanon CC and canon CC being a weird middle ground that I think is perfect. I especially love how his ears look furry but their not, like the rest of his body it's pure rubber and it's just him trying to sell the bit of being a cartoon cat. Also towards the end of the song it shows CC commanding several other Mr. Henderson creations which granted isn't realistic as they all stay away from CC and CC also minds his own business, but this idea of him commanding over these twisted creatures kinda like an even more fucked up Bill cipher tickles me in a way I can't describe (and has also inspired an au of mine!). I love this song, sorry.

B tier

While these are good I wouldn't say they are in any way on the same level as A-tier because A-tier holds two songs which only BARELY didn't make the cut to be S and in all reality was more of a 3-way tie.

Curiosity Don't Kill This cat: I don't got much to say, lyrics are pretty standard as you'll see for all of these songs however one thing I will say though I love the much more ominous tone CC has. It feels like the standard for a song about him but other than masquerade I think this is the only one that does it hold throughout the entire song. Also I love the various jokes thrown in throughout the song like "I'm not some hello kitty!" Or "has cat got your tongue!", cat puns are par for the course yet I feel like this song is the only one that fully utilizes them. The beginning is pretty cute I will make a note on that with a kinda jingle for theoretical cartoon featuring CC, a cutesy version of him is also drawn on there which is adorable. The only last thing I will say is like all of these this pretty catchy with the part I keep replaying being "come over and watch me smile bigger, I'm walking on two paws towards my dinner, you're messing with fate and I'm all for it, curiosity don't kill this cat!". It's good overall with the visuals not having too much to comment on other than CC doing the funkiest little wave.

Outrun This Cat: looking back I actually think is pretty good than I first thought? Idk why I put it down so low this belongs in at least low A-tier I'm a fucking moron. Uhh starters the visuals have CC looking ugly as hell which works, ya know he ain't supposed to be pretty and the bloody gums sell this. As he's singing he's also very expressive, his entire body contorting or swaying using a mallet and pulling out a watch at one point. As much as I love ominous slow hunter CC the upbeat, energetic, and chaotic version holds a place in my heart. Towards the end of the song there's also a part with a toon version of CC and normal monstrous looking CC and I find this cool as the idea he can be either form but chooses the more horrific one funny. The lyrics are also solid, once again the standard of "you're gonna die" is set yet I think there is some cleverness like "better run for your life like a rat or it shreds you up instead", which btw the lyrics say "shredders" which I think is an intentional misspelling as it's a mix between shreds and cheddar because ya know, rat? Idk I find it funny shut up, but also the line "you're life on the line, it simply can't compare against my nine!". Nothing Shakespeare level ofv but still pretty good in my opinion, also the song has a bit of story with CC hating humans stating "there is no use for your urbanity, humanity drives mad my sanity" which I think is supposed to come with the implication that he was a cartoon abandoned which is why he hates people as this is supported by the lyric "abanonded in 2D—too bad i jumped to 3D!". Overall catchy and honestly really good than the ranking I gave it—heck there's a remix of this song made by "Mautzi" that features some FUCKING AWESOME THUMBNAIL ART, but also the way they remixed it would probably make it S-tier and beating Cartoon Catastrophe.

C Tier

He's The Cartoon Cat: I don't know, the song on paper isn't bad and I think the beat drop towards the end IS FUCKING INSANE AND CRAZY, but that singular great part doesn't make up for the rest of it being kinda a drag? I will say the optimism in the song only for the build up to the beat drop is phenomenal with the "run... Run... Run away!" Slowly distorting is a nice touch and makes it feel like the song was made by CC himself and hes intentionally trying to strike fear into the listener. Once again one good part doesn't make the entire good thing though yet in no way a bad song.

D tier

Kitty Kitty: I love rockit music yet they are a truly hit or miss nerdcore artist(s), this one sadly misses. Like it's not bad or at least not that bad, if I were listening to it on a playlist and it came on I wouldn't skip it, yet it wouldn't be something intentionally play, ya know? Like not a song I'd search for but if it comes up I'll vibe to it. I think the lyrics here are actually worse than Run Away in terms of nothingness though, it doesn't have that good of a beat to support these nothing lyrics making it suffer drastically. Once again, Rockit music has cooked some of my FAVORITE nerdcore songs but this one ain't it sadly.

That's about it, I ain't got no more tiers. All CC songs have their own merits with a few having somethings that just personally wasn't for me but I'm sure is someone else's cup of tea. That's the last song and there's no more, no more songs left. Anyways ramble over and Toon Buffoon out.

#cartoon cat #trevor henderson cartoon cat #CC nerdcore music #music #tier list #rambles from toon #im not gonna explain why i hate horror skunx or bad karma #maybe if im irrationally angry enough later I'll go off but i just can't

5 notes · View notes

harmonyckrs · 2 months ago

Text

Give Me Back My Wife, Grim Reaper - Part 9

There she was. The Divine Harpist herself.

Something about her feels awfully familiar, but I'm not exactly sure what. I feel like I would've remembered her if I had seen her before - purple skin and pitch black eyes aren't common, after all.

And as I looked her in the eye, I could feel my stomach twitching as I struggled to catch my breath.

The Divine Harpist: It's nice to finally meet my creator!...you're just as much of a loser as I thought

Harper: You're...the Divine Harpist?

The Divine Harpist: Yep! I'm the manifestation of all of your fears and insecurity.

Harper: What are you doing here?

The Divine Harpist: I'm simply using my powers to make everyone in this world as terrified and insecure as you are.

Harper: But why?

The Divine Harpist: So we can finally feel like we're at the same level as everyone else...

Vidcund: Harpist! Where's Aktu?

The Divine Harpist: He's busy running errands for me. Now if you excuse me, I've got to get going. This place bores me, and you people do too. I want to find someone stronger and more intelligent.

Vidcund: Tell me where he is, you piece of-

The Divine Harpist: Shush. I have no interest in easy prey like you. I need to find someone more powerful.

Vidcund: You underestimate me! I'll-

The Divine Harpist: Shut up. Not interested. Goodbye.

The Divine Harpist: ...Haha, yes! So much fear and despair!

Circe: Who are you, and how did you get in my house?

The Divine Harpist: I am the Divine Harpist! And I'm here to feast upon your fears and insecurities!

Circe: Oh, so you're a LARPER. Get out of here, before I call the cops.

The Divine Harpist: The cops can't help you! I'm far more powerful than any cop combined! Now tell me...where is the source of all of this fear?

Circe: I told you to get out of my house already!

The Divine Harpist: Fine! I sense that feeling of fear and insecurity leaving this dreaded place, anyway...speaking of which, for someone who's experimenting on a living human, you should really get an actual front door.

Circe: Most people have the decency to not break in. And we're experimenting on him in the name of science. We're doing far more good than you ever will!

The Divine Harpist: Really! Tell me one discovery you've made with experimenting on him.

Circe: ...We haven't found any yet, but we'll find something eventually! He's the son of the Grim Reaper, after all! He has a far higher pain tolerance than normal people.

The Divine Harpist: You keep lying to yourself. I'll leave now. I've got better places to be and smarter people to talk to...have fun having your crimes exposed to the world.

As the Divine Harpist followed the path of fear and insecurity, her target unknowingly lead her directly to the Specters.

Olive: ...Orpheus? Is that you?...who's that woman behind you?

Nervous: Huh?

The Divine Harpist: Hello!...my, my! What a lovely graveyard you have. And it looks like you've designed every part of it yourself...the ghosts here are just shivering with fear.

Olive: Thank you. It was a lot of work, and took many years.

The Divine Harpist: I'm sure the local authorities will be happy to see it in all its glory! You've even got the elusive Lyla Grunt in here...the woman with the open missing case that's been ongoing for nearly five years. Lovely...

???: STOP IT!

The Divine Harpist: Goodbye, Olive Specter. I'll be sure to visit you behind bars...

While the Divine Harpist moved across Strangetown to spread fear, Crystal had received a visit from an unexpected visitor.

Crystal: Aktu, you're finally back! You've got a lot to explain!

Aktu: ...

Crystal: Aktu?

Aktu: It's meaningless. There's no point in anything...all that is built will be toppled down...

Crystal: Okay, you're being weird, and not in your typical eccentric artist way. Are you alright?

Aktu: ...Lazlo...where's Lazlo?

Crystal: He's busy. Don't bother looking for him. You can talk to me instead.

Aktu: ...No...must find...Lazlo...

Lazlo: (Damn, this place sucks...how long has it been? Did Crystal really design this place to look like a psych ward?)

*POOF*

Lazlo: AKTU?

Aktu: I...found you...

Lazlo: Dude, I was worried about you! Thought you died or some shit. Don't send any more of those cryptic letters and run off to Watcher-knows-where, alright? Or at least take me with you!

Aktu: You...were worried?

Lazlo: Of course I was, dude! Crystal was, too!...speaking of which, she locked me in here. You know how to get out?

Aktu: I...think I can...

Lazlo: And that's the story of how I broke out of Crystal's basement and found Aktu!

Aktu: Wow...so fascinating...

Zoya: (Harper really needs to find friends who are less weird.) Speaking of which, how are we supposed to restore Aktu back to normal? He's still being weird.

Aktu: I am?...oh no...I'm sorry.

Zoya: No, it's not your fault. We'll figure out a way to reverse it later, once the Divine Harpist has been defeated.

Lazlo: What the hell is the Divine Harpist?

Zoya: Oh, right, you weren't there. I'll fill you in...

The Divine Harpist: Finally, the last house...it took all night, but I can finally send this town into an endless plight of-

Harper: Harpist, nobody's even here. They left the door unlocked.

The Divine Harpist: Hm? How peculiar. I suppose I've made a mistake...we've got that in common, at least...

Harper: That's okay. You've tried your best. I'm sure you'll get them next time.

The Divine Harpist: Hm? Why are you encouraging me now?

Harper: Because I know what your weakness is now...

LOVE.

#ts2 #strangetown #the terrestrial files #harper terrestrial #pascal curious #vidcund curious #lazlo curious #circe beaker #olive specter #nervous subject

2 notes · View notes

pomefioredove · 25 days ago

Note

Can I have a sugar cookie, #5, with whipped cream and chocolate drizzle please? 🥺

I really like this format! It's like getting a secret Santa gift 💕

smirks eveilly. what a specific combination of tropes with this character... I wonder if I can force a certain au here

order #5, sugar with whipped cream and chocolate drizzle

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ a whole new world

tropes: exes to lovers, royalty AU characters: kalim additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, aladdin!yuu, jasmine!kalim, grim is the monkey, a little ooc, this is an au after all, obviously inspired by aladdin and the songs from it which are not mine, etc, word count: 1.5k

Poor, poor you

No, really.

Literally, poor you. As in, broke you. As in, Prince Kalim al-Asim royally dumped your ass, and now you're back to stealing bread off the streets.

And things were going so well...

You really liked him, after all- and that was before you knew he was the son of the richest man in the world.

He's just... something else. He's fun, and pretty- no beautiful. He's got these eyes, and that hair, and then his smile... but when you met, you had no idea who he was.

Now that you know he's a prince... yeah, not a chance.

You can't just make him fall in love with you. You can't even talk to him.

That is... unless you were also royalty.

And now, here you are.

"Who are you, again?" Kalim's advisor- what was his name?- asks you, eyes narrowed, arms crossed.

You adjust your clothing for the millionth time- expensive silk is an unfamiliar feeling on your skin- and you come up with some nonsensical name and title on the spot.

A noble from a foreign land, come to win the heart of the prince.

And, with that magic lamp of yours, it's almost believable, right?

"Right," he says, drumming his fingers across his forearm. It's obvious that he doesn't quite believe you, but he's in no place to say so.

Not when Papa al-Asim is so excited to have a new guest.

He's got an arm around your shoulder, talking to you like you're an old friend, showing you all of his jewels and gold trinkets.

"And Kalim has been ever so glum, lately, I can't imagine why! Teenagers," the man sighs.

You nod along, though you're not exactly sure what you're agreeing with.

"Pardon my curiosity, but where is this country you're from? I can't seem to recall it on any map," the advisor asks.

Papa al-Asim waves him off. "You're too worried, Jamil. Go oversee the kitchen staff, would you? We need to host a proper welcome banquet for our esteemed guest!"

Jamil sneers and mutters "esteemed, indeed" but leaves without being told twice.

There's something strangely familiar about him, but you put that thought aside for now... still, you feel the urge to double-check that your magic lamp is still safely tucked away.

"S-so... where is this prince of yours?"

"Oh, you'll meet him in good time. He's in one of his moods," Papa al-Asim shakes his head. "He's been rather sad lately. It's so unlike him..."

That is unlike him. You suppose you'll get to that, later.

...But you don't. Kalim isn't at dinner. He's not at dessert, either. He's not at the music performance that was arranged for you, and he's not in any of the rooms you tour with Papa al-Asim.

It's nerve-wracking.

Long after dark, you decide to take your chances.

"Prince Kalim?" you call out from the balcony attached to his room.

No answer. You don't dare venture any further, and you turn to your magic carpet (it came with the lamp) to shush it.

"Prince Kalim? It's... it's me, your... suitor...?" that word tastes sour on your tongue.

After a longer moment of silence, the silk curtains part, and Kalim pokes his head out. He seems to glow in the moonlight, and you can't take your eyes off him.

You also can't quite tell what he's thinking. His eyes narrow, then widen, then narrow again, and he comes outside.

"Do I... know you?"

"Kn-know me?" you stammer, leaning against the banister, trying to put some distance between you so he can't get a good look at your face. "I-I don't think so."

"You just..." he takes a step closer. "...Remind me of someone I met at the market."

Has he always been this perceptive?? "The market? Uh, no... I... have servants who go to the market for me, I even have servants that go to the market for my servants! Y-you must be thinking of someone else,"

Kalim sighs, his face falling. "...I must be. Sorry. I get confused sometimes,"

Enough about you. Say something about him! Anything! You clear your throat.

"Prince Kalim, you're very..." fun, interesting, sweet, thoughtful, punctual- "Punctual!"

"Punctual?"

"I-I mean beautiful!"

He raises an eyebrow at your save, but doesn't question it. You're all over the place.

"Well... I'm rich, too, you know," he says, leaning against the wall. "The son of the wealthiest man in the world."

"Uh... you are,"

"A fine prize for any suitor,"

Something about this is setting off alarm bells in your head. "Yes, you... very rich,"

Kalim almost pouts for a second. "That's what I'm told. You must see me as nothing but someone to get things out of, just like the other suitors. I-I have to go,"

Those alarm bells get louder as you watch him turn and disappear behind the silk again.

Way to go. "You're right!" you blurt out.

"What?" he reappears, an eyebrow raised. Great. Now what?

"I-I said you're right," you say. "You're not some prize to be won, or a wallet to use. You should... be able to marry someone who likes you for who you are. I'll go now,"

You make a swift exit before you can embarrass yourself further, stepping backwards off the balcony and onto the floating carpet below.

"Wait!" Kalim gasps, and you pop back up.

"What? What's wrong?"

He blinks his big eyes at you, a look of wonder coming over him as you float upwards on the carpet. "How... are you doing that?"

"...It's a magic carpet,"

Kalim steps closer, admiring the intricate weaving and the golden tassels. "It's beautiful. My father has one, but I'm not allowed to use it. They're all afraid I'll get hurt..."

You frown. "No one seems to trust you with anything important, huh?"

He doesn't answer, but he's smiling as he walks around the carpet in circles. The space between you is silent, but warm now.

You return his smile. "You wouldn't wanna... take it for a ride, would you?"

Kalim's eyes light up, but then he shakes his head. He swallows, with some difficulty, whatever he was about to say.

"I... shouldn't. I'd worry Jamil,"

You reach out a hand. "No one has to know. Do you trust me?"

Something in Kalim's eyes change. That familiar glow of excitement almost has something... a little untamed in it. His hand is suddenly in yours, and in a breath more you're high above the palace.

Soon the golden lights of the city are all you can make of it, a sea of stars beneath you as Kalim clings to you. The wind carries his laughter with it.

You smile back at him. "Tell me, Prince, when's the last time you let go like this?"

"This is... unbelievable! Indescribable!" he shouts, the wind whipping around you both.

You chuckle. His hair is the same color as the clouds beneath your feet as you breach the endless diamond sky. He fits in well with the heavens, you think.

He clings closer to you, his arms around your waist as you dip back down, soaring, tumbling, weaving across the sky, taking him wonder by wonder on the carpet.

Kalim marvels at the moon, the inky water of the sea, gardens and statues, a hundred thousand things. He points out everything to you, the same smile on his face.

"How does it feel, no one to tell you no, or where to go?"

"Like I'm a shooting star!" he exclaims, reaching towards the heavens and pulling wisps of cloud from the sky. "I almost don't want to go back to where I used to be!"

Your carpet eventually comes to a gentle stop on the roof of a palace, far from his own.

"Hm..." Kalim hums, resting his head against your shoulder. His hair is messy, thrown around by the wind. "It's sad that Grim had to miss this."

You sigh, feeling content. "Nah. He doesn't really like flying," Maybe a little too content. "Uh- I-I mean-"

Kalim sits up suddenly, pointing at you. "You are the person from the market! I knew I wasn't making things up!"

"It's- uh, um- it's not-"

"Why did you lie to me?" he pouts. "Did you think that I wouldn't like you if I knew the truth?"

He seems genuinely upset. You cough, choking on your own words. "No! I just- I-I thought-"

"And Jamil told me you had been executed!" Kalim exclaims, running a hand through his messy hair.

You blink. "He what...? O-okay, um, we're gonna come back to that, but I- I just thought that you- um, you know. I was told you never wanted to see me again, and-"

"Who told you that?"

You bite your lip. "...The guards,"

Kalim crosses his arms. He narrows his eyes. He stares. You let him make an attempt to read you, staying perfectly still, as much as you want to squirm under his stare.

"Who are you? Really?"

Your teeth sink further into your lip. He's still staring, expectant of an answer.

Those alarm bells start ringing again. Tell him the truth, you think. Tell him the TRUTH!

"You want the truth...?" you start, unsure of where you're going with this. "The truth is..."

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #kalim al asim x reader

74 notes · View notes

kewltie · 2 years ago

Text

re:Kasumi AU - S01 [Complete]

01.

"My Daddy is amazing, you know, the absolute best," Kasumi brags, "but he's grumpy and frown a lot, so I worry about him being alone." She sighs like it's pain her to admit it. "I've been looking for a partner for my Daddy and I think you make a good candidate, Midoriya-san."

02.

"Your dad would be okay with a quirkless omega?" Midoriya asks, brows creasing in concern. "Would he settle for someone lesser than him?" His face grim. "

Oh, Daddy doesn't discriminate," Kasumi says cheerfully. "He hates everyone equally, so nobody has the upper-hand here."

03.

"Daddy, you're almost 30," Kasumi says, "that's, like, ancient."

Katsuki glowers. "Say that again, brat."

She heaves a sigh. "You haven't gone on single date since I was born. What if I get marry and you die alone?"

"Who's dumb enough to marry you?" He sneers.

"Daddy!"

04.

"I don't have a papa," Kasumi says cheerfully. "Daddy said he died after he stepped on a nail and contracted tetanus."

"Oh," Midoriya says, smiling awkwardly.

She hums thoughtfully. "But I know that's a lie because when I was six, Daddy also said Papa got eaten by a shark."

05.

"Daddy, we need to talk."

Katsuki sighs tiredly. "You got five minutes."

"I can do it in three!"

His lips twitches in amusement. "Convince me then."

Kasumi rolls out a large homemade poster and presents it to him. "It's time for you to get marry and here are my reasons."

06.

"What are you looking for in a partner?" Kasumi presses. "Pretty? Smart? They got to be strong enough to handle you, right?"

"Someone who hates kid preferably," Katsuki says, pointedly looking at her.

"Daddy," she whines, "I'm being serious here!"

"So am I," he says dryly.

07.

"He said I only have you because Papa didn't want me, so I punched him."

Katsuki frowns. "And you know it's wrong, right?"

Kasumi's lips wobbles precariously. "Y-yes." She runs into his arms and wails unrepentantly. "If I knew I would get caught I should have punch him more!"

08.

Babies are useless little things that sleep and eat all day, and they're stinky too as Katsuki leans close and smells the odor coming off of her, her fist smacking him in the face in the process.

He stares down at her as Kasumi giggles. "My mortal enemy," he declares soberly.

09.

"Don't you hate him?" Izuku asks.

"How can I hate someone I don't know?" Kasumi answers bluntly. "He gave me away when I turned one but," a pause, "sometimes I like to think he must have care enough to have kept me for that long, right?"

"Yes," he breathes, heart trembling.

10.

Katsuki grinds out, "You said there were only four, so why are there five's name on here?"

"Oh, I miscounted." Kasumi smiles and every bit unapologetic.

He frowns as he stares down at her. "I sent you to school to learn, but did it make you dumber?"

11.

"Daddy, could you please try to smile a little?" Kasumi frowns.

Katsuki's scowl only deepens further. "This is how I always look."

"How are you going to impress anyone when you look like an ogre the entire time?!" she huffs. "My guest is going to think I have an ugly father!

12.

"Daddy, would you love me if I was a worm?" Kasumi asks.

"No," Katsuki says, with no hesitation.

She pouts and pinches the back of his hand.

He gives her unimpressed look and sighs. "But I'll keep you and take good care of you even if you're useless, squirmy little worm."

13.

Kasumi gestures for him to come closer. Katsuki's eyes narrow suspiciously even as he complies.

"Oh, Daddy, you're so handsome," she gushes. "Just remember not to open your mouth, it will ruin the effect."

He scowls. "You brat—" but she quickly shushes him. "No talking!"

14.

"Don't be nervous." Kasumi pats his hand in assurance. "My daddy isn't scary. He's mean, but he can also be nice! But mostly mean if he thinks you're being dumb." Her brows furrow thoughtfully. "Just avoid saying anything stupid and I'm sure he'll like you!"

15.

"If you want to impress my daddy, here's what you need to do," Kasumi says, pulling a thick binder with colorful tabs sticking out.

Izuku takes out a notepad and pen, looking serious and determined. "I'm ready."

A grin spreads across her face. "I knew you were a good pick!"

16.

"Are you doing this because you think I'm not doing enough as a parent?"

Horrified, Kasumi hugs him. "No, daddy! You're the best," she says. "There's no replacement for you." As Katsuki hugs her back, she slyly adds, "But it would be nice if you have a partner in your old age."

17.

"Daddy, when you have another kid, you can't like them more than me okay?" Kasumi insists. "I'll still be number one."

"I haven't even met the bastard yet and you already vaulted past marriage to kids," Katsuki says, flickering her forehead. "Why would I even want another brat?"

18.

"Why do you want to find him a partner so much?" Izuku asks.

"Daddy told me he didn't know how to love me at first, but I grew on him like a terrible fungus," Kasumi says cheerfully. "Since then, he's always put me first, so it's now his turn to find someone who put him first."

19.

"I just got you the 2nd best birthday present ever!" Katsuki snorts. "You?"

Kasumi pouts. "No, Daddy, it's a date!" she reveals. "You know, I'm the best thing to ever happened to you."

"Sometimes, I doubt that," he says dryly.

20.

"This is Midoriya-san," Kasumi excitedly introduces.

Abruptly, Katsuki raises his fist and launches it forward.

Eyes wide, she screeches, "Daddy!"

The wall behind Izuku crumbles under the force of his fist, but Izuku remains unflinching. "Hello, Kacchan," he greets ruefully.

#bakudeku #twitter drabble collection #verse: re:kasumi #featured

15 notes · View notes

leebrontide · 1 year ago

Text

Secondhand Origin Stories, Chapter 9

Here's this week's chapter! Reblogs welcome!

For those of you just joining us, I'm posting a chapter a week of my free near future scifi/low neon cyberpunk YA/NA novel, Secondhand Origin Stories, which has been described as

"-a character driven, compelling story full of family, queerness, corruption, brain altering nanites, secretly teen parenting AIs, and taking aspects of the superhero genre to their very human and rarely-explored natural conclusions."

For content warnings and more, check here:

You can follow along by following #SHOSweekly

Chapter 9

Martin’s voice in the elevator was enough to put Opal on edge again. The unexpectedly plush chairs of the clinic waiting room weren’t enough to fix it. The staff here all seemed so grim, somehow. And up this high, the sound of the storm blanketed every other noise with the static, as if it was keeping secrets in the constant shushes of rain and the grumbles of thunder.

She’d settled on calling her mom. Mom’s ridiculous sheep-patterned pajamas and her enthusiasm for Shani’s history project helped. Apparently Opal would be getting a lengthy account of it whenever she managed to reach Shani between summer sleepovers.

“Everyone still treating you all right?”

Opal smiled, trying to get comfortable. “Aldis and the guys have been great. You got the pictures I sent you of the VIP suite? Oh! Did I tell you Capricorn said he thinks I have grit? And Helix agreed with him.” She couldn’t mention the rest of it-- not here, at least. She couldn’t make up her mind what she really should say.

“Oh, baby, I’m so proud of you. Are they as handsome in person as on TV?”

Opal laughed. “Mom. They’re all like, 40 and up.”

“And that might as well be a hundred to an 18-year-old. Yeah, yeah.”

“Hey, have you--”

“I still haven’t heard from your dad. I promise I’ll let you know the minute I do. But you know how this goes. Any little thing.” And they’d revoke his phone “privileges.” It’d been months, once or twice before. Then he’d reappear, looking a little older, a little less steady, chastising Opal for having worried. She hadn’t gotten any letters, either. It was never good when he couldn’t even send letters. But she’d sent hers. She hoped he got them.

She glanced up as a familiar figure ghosted through the edge of Opal’s line of sight. “Jamie?” Jamie turned, looking haunted. “Hey, Mom. I’m sorry, but I’ll call you later, OK?”

Martin had said there was a family emergency. If Jamie was down here, it must be a bad one.

Jamie was, impossibly, paler than usual. She seemed almost blue. Her posture was hunched, as if she was expecting to have to bolt at any second, with her elbows pulled in tight against her body. She also seemed to be by herself. “Hey, are you OK?”

“I’m trying to find Issac’s doctor, but they just keep telling me to go wait with…I need to tell them what happened with Issac. I’m the only one who was there.”

A nice, straightforward request. Opal stood, flagging down the nearest medical professional who didn’t seem to be rushing. She put on her most professional tone. “Excuse me. Ms. Tillman-Voss needs to speak with the treating physician for Issac Tillman-Voss right away. She has important information relevant to his condition she needs to share.” Hanging around Mom’s job when she was little had given her a few tricks, at least.

The woman nodded, and led them to a nurse’s station before disappearing to find the doctor.

“Ms. Tillman-Voss?” Jamie asked under her breath. “I think they think you’re my bodyguard now.”

Bodyguard? She’d been going for PR intern. “Whatever works,” she muttered back.

Jamie’s smile was tiny and wobbly. “You do look really grown-up in that.”

“You look like you’re going to faint. You’re not, are you? My mom’s a nurse, but I am very much not.”

“No. I need to talk to the doctor.”

“Are you going to faint after that?”

“I hope not. They won’t treat me here. I’m not altered.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure if LodeStar’s kid faints in their waiting room, they’ll pull something together.”

Jamie muttered under her breath, “Not sure he’d care.”

That didn’t sound good. The doctor showed up before Opal could ask, and then she was too busy keeping up with the story Jamie was telling. Every bit of which sounded 100% illegal. By the end of it, Jamie’s voice was painful to even listen to, it was so high-pitched and breathless, but Jamie pushed through. She even brought them a copy of a thesis Issac had written on the subject. It’d be impressive if it wasn’t so horrifying. Brain-changing nanites? You didn’t have to try to think of all the ways that could be misused.

The doctor rushed off as soon as Jamie was done.

Opal was hit with more doubt than she’d ever had before. What and who had she gotten mixed up with? OK, the Sentinels as a family struggling to cope, she could understand. But a family that attempted to cope by developing more and scarier technology, and testing it on themselves in secret?

Then again, that was how Bion had started. But that was back before altering tech laws had been around. Issac must have known what he was doing was illegal. He should even know why it needed to be illegal. His family took down people conducting illegal alterations all the time.

But maybe those rules didn’t apply to their son.

She shivered. Exactly how many rules didn’t apply to them?

Jamie didn’t notice Opal’s existential crisis. She was staring down the hallway towards the handful of private waiting rooms like she was expecting a firing squad. She took a tiny, unconscious step backwards, towards Opal.

And all Opal could remember was Jamie’s comment that nobody would even notice another couple of bruises on her. All three of the kids seemed incredibly isolated. How many laws could the Sentinels get out of?

Opal put a hand on Jamie’s shoulder. Leaned in to ask quietly, “Are you OK?”

Jamie didn’t look at her. But she pressed her lips so tight they almost vanished. Her eyes were pink. She shook her head, still staring down the hall.

Maybe it was nothing. Jamie’d had a terrible morning by anyone’s standards.

Maybe it wasn’t nothing.

Jamie started, looking at Opal. “My dad! He needs a doctor, too. If he’s in the waiting room, then they must not know. His collarbone’s broken.”

“What? How did that happen?”

“Yael.” Jamie said, flinching as she realized too late that that was bound to beg questions. “There was a-- xe was afraid he-- but that doesn’t matter. He needs a doctor!”

This time it was even easier to get someone’s attention, but Jamie was a lot lighter on the details. She didn’t even mention Yael. Whatever had happened, she was less likely to explain it than she was Issac’s breach of international laws. Nobody pressed her for more details. Doctors rushed to help the injured superhero, and Opal and Jamie stayed put.

Neil Voss passed by a few minutes later, escorted by a nervous-looking medical person and Capricorn. Capricorn looked grim, and had a hand on LodeStar’s arm. LodeStar ignored Opal completely, his attention stitched tightly to his daughter as he passed. Neither of them said anything to the other.

Jamie watched him with her own intensity, and a disquieting stillness. LodeStar looked half possessed. His eyes burned blood-red where the whites should have been. His steps were unsteady and slow, but the muscles in his shoulders were coiled, prepared to strike, his hands working themselves into huge metallic fists. Flexing again. Stretching, as if he was imagining grabbing something. Opal had never seen anyone more terrifying in her life.

He was cordoned off in another room after what felt like an eternity. The two of them both exhaled at the same time.

Oh God. Opal was in a Gothic novel. And the head of the house was as powerful and utterly unhinged as any she’d ever read. And she’d spent the last...more than two weeks now, trying to move into his house, work under his orders? This was not going to work. She could never trust the orders of someone like that. She could never hurt or arrest anyone on his say-so. She didn’t even want to be in the same room with him.

She’d go home. Go back to Detroit. Save up, and try another team, later. They couldn’t all be like him, could they?

Jamie sat suddenly, barely catching a chair instead of landing on the floor. She was struggling to catch her breath.

Shit. None of the doctors had even looked at Jamie. No one was going to check in on what was happening in LodeStar’s home. What made Jamie look like that? What drove her brother to experiment on himself, rather than have something he might see as a vulnerability in that household?

Opal reached for the only failsafe she could think of close by. “Hey, maybe we should go find your mom?”

Jamie cringed, but nodded, dragging herself back upright. Opal followed close behind, hoping to find some kind of resolution.

* * *

Issac drifted in and out of consciousness several times. Reality had turned slippery, and even awake, he couldn’t seem to grasp hold of it. This time, when he woke, the ground under him felt a little more solid. Time felt a little more linear.

He kept his eyes closed, trying to shut out reality. Trying not to notice what he couldn’t detect. He tried to focus inward. His mouth and tongue hurt, as if he’d cut them. A seizure, he remembered. Someone had told him he’d had a seizure, one of the other times he’d been awake. He must have bitten himself. His mouth tasted like blood.

He shifted his attention again, but his body was no refuge. His pulse was speeding; his back hurt like hell. There was a needle in his arm. His torso was canted upwards. Another hospital bed.

More missing monitor noise.

His mind had never been good at silence. He’d never been able to get it to shut up. To stop noticing.

Then again, at least it was still working right. At least he did still notice things.

At least he’d woken up.

Tears pricked at his closed eyes. He’d failed. Air escaped his lungs unevenly, and he sucked it back in, straining against ribs that whined about it, just like the last time.

Whoever was in the room with him-- there must be someone-- didn’t notice his tears or any unwanted noises. There was no touch to his hand or face. No anything. If he wanted something, he’d have to signal it. He’d have to open his eyes and face whoever was there.

He pried open crusty, itchy eyes. This time, his vision landed first on his own paper-clad lap.

There was a card in his hand in unfamiliar handwriting. Issac - you have had a seizure. Some confusion is normal. It will go away in a while. Please stop trying to remove the monitoring equipment. Your family will return soon.

Soon? None of them were even in here with him? He looked up.

There was a man in the room. He was wearing a three-piece suit in brownish gray, with graying, sand-colored hair, and a severely bleached smile plastered on his face. He was sitting in the chair between Issac and the door with his ankle on his knee. As if this was a perfectly normal way to meet someone.

This was not a doctor.

Issac gasped as his vision developed sudden spots. Black fractured the image in front of him.

It was text. Good afternoon, Mr. Tillman-Voss.

Issac was wearing contacts. Revulsion rolled through him. He wanted to pull them off. He couldn’t stand the thought of touching them. Either the stranger knew he had them, or he thought Issac could hear. The man stood, still smiling. He reached into his blazer pocket, producing a little slip of paper. He walked the few paces between them, holding it out. A business card. Before Issac could read it, more text crowded the image out. I’m Frank Lasansky of Lasansky Security Technologies. Sorry if I’m catching you at a bad time.

A bad time? Issac wasn’t even wearing pants. How did these contacts end up on his eyes? Where was his family? I heard a while back about what happened to you and I think that’s a shame. Just a real shame. Still smiling. Issac would have punched the guy if he was more confident in his ability to stand up without falling down. There was something off about him-- a fakeness that went beyond his over-bleached teeth. Issac took the business card, but kept watching the man’s face.

It didn’t move right. Some kind of partial paralysis?

And I thought, there’s a young man I’d like to meet. And my lucky day, I come to find out you’re in this very building when I am! Well, I couldn’t pass up an opportunity like that, could I? Huh? Right?

Issac didn’t know what else to do, so he shook his head “no.” Did this guy not know Issac lived in this building? How could he possibly not know that? It was Sentinel Plaza.

Lasansky. That name was familiar.

The weird smile stretched wider. Great! Glad to hear it. Because I am just dying to chat with you about those nanites of yours. Issac went cold. The nanites. He must be from the APB? Maybe he was here to take Issac away. Issac felt an irrational urge to check to make sure all his arms and legs were still attached. That they hadn’t been replaced with weaker models. He knew better, and he was being watched. Now, I already heard that this trial didn’t work out. That’s why I took the liberty of providing you with some hardware to help us out in our little chat. He tapped the space next to his eye, looking pleased with himself.

Issac recoiled. He would have assumed that either his parents or a nurse had put the contacts on him. That would have been bad enough. But to think that this random businessman had been touching Issac while he was either asleep or too out of it to have a say sent a spiky, electric chill up his spine. OK, he had his legs, but it felt that much closer to Jenna's fate, all the same.

Lasansky continued, either oblivious to Issac's alarm or electing to ignore it. But hey, these things happen. You can’t get it right on your first try every time, right? Issac wondered whether he was supposed to shake his head again, but this time Lasansky didn’t wait. I want you to know I’m not going to judge you for that. You know? I want you to hear that it’s not your fault. You didn’t have backup. No support. No team.

Issac's horror ebbed a little, and he tried to shove it down faster. Don’t think about his eyes. This was obvious, and well-thought-out, flattery. This total stranger knew exactly what Issac wanted to hear. The polar opposite of what he’d be forced to sit through whenever his parents showed up to replace the stranger.

Why was he flattering Issac?

Issac studied the man. The suit was high-end, and almost perfectly tailored, but cut a little too big in the shoulders. There was the smallest of silver roots visible at his hairline. His hands looked noticeably older than his face.

Ah. His face. He’d had too much Botox, too many face-lifts, or both. That’s why his expressions seemed off. Everything about him was pretending.

Lasansky. Lasansky. He knew that name.

But a little birdie gave me some good news. Word on the street is, it’s your biggest birthday today! He leaned in conspiratorially. Issac leaned in, too, as if it mattered what volume the man spoke at. You’re a free man, Mr Tillman. The world is your oyster.

A free man. So, not arrested, anyway. Lasansky stood. Now I know this is irregular, God knows it’s not usually how we run things at Lasansky Security International, but you, young man, are special. I couldn’t run the chance of them squirreling you away in the attic all alone without my having spoken to you, first.

Of him being sent away like Jenna.

Mr. Tillman, I am here to make you an offer. Because the problem with working for the family business is, you have to work for your family! You have to be the baby at work and at home. Have your boss at the dinner table. Be constantly surrounded by people who have what they think are your best interests at heart, but who, deep down, can’t appreciate you for the adult that you are! Now the fact that you had to run this all by yourself tells me that they already gave you the vote of no confidence. They only see Issac the boy, not Issac the man. But I have seen your patent list, and I am ready to give you my full vote of confidence. I believe in your tech. I believe there’s a need for it, and I believe that with the right support, you can deliver your gift to the world. I am prepared to offer you just that support.

This stranger-- this fake man in a thousand-dollar suit-- understood. Had grasped the whole dynamic of the situation without ever even meeting Issac. Issac glanced down briefly, thinking, and his eyes landed on perfectly shined shoes with a subtly higher-than-average heel. Trying to look tall.

Lasansky was the head of what had to be a huge, heavily politically-connected company, but even he had to pretend to be taller, healthier, younger than he was. No wonder he could understand Issac’s need to fix himself. Even Lasansky wasn’t high enough in the hierarchy to risk exposing even the smallest, most irrelevant weaknesses, like wrinkles or narrower shoulders.

Well, even Mom wore tall shoes and sought the occasional nip and tuck, didn’t she? She just wore it better, or maybe invested more.

If even the people at the top-- everyone who wasn’t altered-- had to protect themselves with artificial health and height, where did that leave someone with an actual weakness?

Lasansky approached the tilted hospital bed. Issac had to crane his neck back to keep watching him. He smiled down at Issac with gleaming teeth. Mr. Tillman, how would you like to join the Lasansky Securities family?

* * *

Time bled by Yael at an agonizing crawl. Xe didn’t know how long xe’d been sitting on the cool tile floor of xyr bedroom, not really seeing anything. Xyr back was still against the door, where it was easiest to hear Papa not coming after xyr, not trying to argue through the door. Xe’d let xyr mind go blank, listening to that silence.

When xyr phone went off, Yael jumped so hard xe banged xyr head against the door. Xe grabbed the phone out of xyr pocket, answering to stop its intrusion. Xe forgot all about Papa for a moment when xe realized it was Issac. Or, at least, Issac's phone.

“Hello?” xe asked cautiously, not sure who to expect on the other end.

Issac himself answered. “Yeah. Uhm. Hi.”

Yael's head dropped back, hitting the door with another bang. “You’re OK. You’re OK, right? Oh my Gosh, can you hear me? You’re on the phone!”

There was a pause. “I…no. I have translation software. I can’t hear you.”

“Sorry it didn’t work.” And xe was, a little. Mostly, xe was happy he was conscious, coherent and alive. Now they just had to get through the fallout with the APB. Nodiah wasn’t going to be happy.

Issac didn’t even try to hide his discomfort, which was refreshing. “Yeah.” Yael looked behind xyr, as if xe could see through the door. Xe had no idea where Papa was, if he was hearing all of this. “I need your help.”

Yael crossed xyr legs, straightening. Trying not to think about how “helping” him this morning had gone. “What do you need?”

“An escort? I, uhm. I got a job. Just now.” Yael pulled the phone away from xyr ear, and stared at it, baffled. Was Issac actually coherent? “I know that’s weird. But it’s this guy who works with the APB, and he actually believes in my research. Wants to use it to help people.” Official approval! Thank heaven. Issac would be safe, now. Problems were knocking themselves out left and right.

“I’m eighteen. I can move out, any time I want to. They can’t stop me. But it’s like… I’ll have to live in just like…a place. Just standard security systems. I’d feel better if you came along, too. You’re almost eighteen. Can you?” A flicker of hesitation. “Will you?”

Yael rushed the phone back to xyr ear, glancing back against the door again. Hopefully Papa hadn’t heard that.

Xyr first impulse was to tell Issac “no.” He was hurt. He needed his family. He needed to be protected, here at home.

Except now, home wasn’t safe, either. He needed safety and family. Maybe Yael really was his best bet for both. Papa wasn’t listening to Yael-- maybe none of the others would, either.

“On one condition. We have to bring Jamie, too. We can’t leave her here.” Xe hoped Melissa would protect her, but if nobody but Yael saw the danger--

“What? I. But. I mean. If she wants to…You think she would? But she’s sixteen.”

“We have to try.”

“Uh. Sure. Try away.”

“Is…Your mom isn’t with you, now.”

“Obviously.”

“You’re alone?”

“I…I guess they came in earlier. I don’t remember.”

“Have you seen Neil?”

“I guess.”

“Jamie?”

“I don’t remember, OK? Seizures can do that. Just…pack up. I’ll get home when I can to do the same.” He said his goodbyes, which Yael echoed in a haze, then hung up.

Moving out? Xe’d never planned to leave. Xyr room had always just evolved with xyr. This was Yael’s home.

But a home wasn’t such a big thing to sacrifice for your brother and sister.

Xe heard shuffling outside. Papa’s normally light footfalls were slow and plodding, either because he was just that tired, or to warn xyr he was coming.

The handle beside xyr head turned, and Yael looked over at it as the door tried to shift inward. Yael was more than heavy enough to keep it closed.

Papa’s voice was muffled, but only a little bit irritated. “Yael, I’ve bought you a very large bed, two futons, and an office chair. Why do you insist on sitting on the floor?”

Xe didn’t even bother to pretend to be angry. “I’m being a barricade.”

“Well, stop being a barricade and go back to being my daughter. I need to talk to her.”

Maybe it was just because xe was so upset about everything else, but xe was suddenly annoyed by his misgendering, and didn’t watch xyr tongue. “I’m not your daughter.”

Shit! Yael’d said it before thinking, then realized how Papa would hear it. Xe scrambled to xyr feet and threw the door open.

He was standing there, half turned from the door, his expression a broken attempt at stoicism. He met xyr eyes with a piercing, angry gaze and a mouth that tugged down at the corners, obviously hurt.

This time xyr blurted words did better. “I didn’t mean it like that! I meant-- ugh. You’ve heard Jamie and Issac use non-gendered pronouns for me for five months now. Take a hint!”

The pain in his expression cleared, some, replaced by sincere confusion. “You never asked me to call you that.”

“I thought it would be obvious.”

“I didn’t want to assume. Sometimes siblings have things they don’t want to share with-- I was trying not to intrude!” He shook his head. “This is absurd. Yael, aren’t we having enough fights today? Let’s put this on hold.”

Surprisingly diplomatic of him, even if he was sidestepping something important to xyr. Xe tried to stay calm. Xe crossed xyr arms. “All right. Which fight do you want to have first?”

Papa replied with an exasperated, but not entirely unamused sigh, and stepped forward. Xe let him in. He paused. “How about the one about how your room looks like you’re afraid of drawers, closets and boxes?”

“Really?”

He shoved over a pile of hoodies and sat on one of the futons. “No.” He rubbed his face.

The silence stretched out. Papa was lost in thought. Yael collapsed onto the opposite futon, toying with the corduroy.

Finally he looked to xyr. “Which do you want to start with?”

Yael spread xyr hands helplessly, shaking xyr head. Xe had no idea how to untangle all of this. But xe didn’t want him to leave.

Xe didn’t want to leave.

To xyr amusement, he pulled out a coin. He looked at xyr. “Heads, your fight with Neil, tails, the…the other thing.”

Xe nodded, and he flipped the coin, catching it and slapping it to his hand. “Heads,” he announced.

They looked at each other, bracing for a fight neither of them wanted to have. “Tell me what happened. I won’t say anything until you’ve finished. Just this once.”

Too good an offer to pass up. “Issac was following in his father’s and Jenna's and Drew's footsteps. He decided to fight his limitations directly, and he had the science. He limited the MARTIN sensors and used his nanites to try to repair his audio nerve.” Xe refused to look ashamed. “Jamie and I helped him, and kept his secret. And I am not sorry we did.” That was much easier to say now that xe knew he really was OK. “He has the right to try to better himself.”

Xe couldn’t read Papa’s reaction, so xe just kept going. “But he had a seizure, Jamie used the failsafe, and we called for help. The EMTs got Issac, and Drew went with them, and as soon as Neil and Jamie and I were alone, he started shouting at her, and then he lunged for her. I intercepted him and tried to make him back off. He wouldn’t. That’s pretty much when you came in.”

Papa might not have interrupted, but now he was shaking his head. “You misinterpreted. You were upset and you misunderstood.”

“How would you know? You weren’t there!” xe challenged.

“Neil wouldn’t. He adores Jamie. He loves all of you kids.” Yael shook xyr head, glaring daggers at the floor as he continued. “You’ve known him your whole life. You know he would never hurt any of you.”

“I’ve been trying to believe in that, and in him. This whole time I’ve been trying. But he’s not the man I grew up with. That man would never abandon Issac for days at a time like this. Not for any reason. And today-- I’ve seen enough film of your missions to know he can kill with less rage than that. I wouldn’t let anyone looking like that near Jamie or Issac.”

Xe readied for arguments and shouting yet again. Instead, Papa looked distracted and troubled.

Deep down, part of Yael wanted to be wrong. Even hurting Neil unfairly would be better than Neil being a real danger to Jamie. Neil would heal. If he was the person Yael thought xe remembered, he would even forgive.

But Papa had stopped arguing. Xe couldn’t imagine a more hollow victory.

They sat in painful silence for a moment.

“I…I’ll talk to him. And Melissa,” he promised.

“There’s more.”

He looked horrified. “More? How could there possibly be more?” Realization dawned. “The phone call.”

“It was Issac.”

“Well then, that’s good!”

Xe nodded, hesitantly. “Yes, that’s good,” xe hedged. “You know it’s his birthday.”

“What a birthday.”

“He’s eighteen. He called me to say he’s not coming back, except to pack his things. He’s moving out. And he sure is Melissa’s son, because he’s somehow landed himself a job since this morning.”

Papa’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t be serious.”

Yael threw up xyr hands. “It wasn’t my idea!”

“Well, tell him not to!”

“When has that ever worked? At least it’s APB-backed, so he won’t get arrested for this morning.”

“He can’t just go out there, alone.”

Here it was. “He won’t be alone.” Yael gulped, but raised xyr chin. “I’m going with him.”

Papa rocketed to his feet.“The hell you are!” All his bombastic energy was back from before. “This is absurd! We had a fight! That is no reason. No. Reason.”

Yael didn’t have it in xyr now to fight about this. Instead, xe kept xyr voice low, which had the surprising effect of making Papa pause. “I know. I’m not going to get away from you. I’m going to protect him. Because he shouldn’t go out there alone.��

“I forbid it.”

“Then be prepared to fight me with real force every single day. Be prepared to break my legs faster than they can heal, because that’s what it’ll take.”

Papa was visibly repulsed. “This is no time for dramatics.”

“I’m being sincere. I know you don’t have a lot of recent practice with honesty, but try and remember what it sounds like. If you’re not willing to go that far, then you won’t keep me here. And you don’t want to.”

“Of course I want to! You’re my--” Xe had to hand it to him; he stopped before ‘daughter’ this time. He was trying. “Family. And you belong here.”

“Do you want to leave Issac unprotected? Out there? He’s your family. He’s hurt. Are you going to abandon him?”

“This is madness.”

“I told you that I’d defend them. From anyone and anything. I meant that.” Not a hero’s oath, but the one that came from xyr heart.

“What about Jamie?”

“I don’t know yet. But you’ll protect her, won’t you?”

Papa sank down on the futon, hands over his eyes. “There is nothing about this that I don’t hate.”

“But you will.”

He scowled at the ceiling from behind his hand. “Yes, of course I will.”

Silence swallowed them up, and Yael noticed the rain for the first time. Rain was supposed to cleanse. Yael didn’t feel cleansed, but at least some things between them were out. The inside of xyr head felt a little cleaner for it.

Eventually Yael commented, “I think that was the quietest fight we’ve ever had.”

“I think I lost.”

* * *

“Ms. Tillman-Voss? Your brother would like to see you.” The nurse looked at Jamie and Opal, and all the empty chairs in the private waiting room. “Is your mother not here?”

“She went for coffee,” Jamie answered automatically. That had been three hours ago, but it still stood. Jamie had no doubt that wherever Mom was, she’d have a cup of coffee with her. Jamie explaining the morning to Mom hadn’t gone well. Jamie stood, then hesitated, looking back at Opal. “Can you--?”

“I’ll wait here,” Opal assured. It helped. Opal had been sitting with Jamie this whole time, even though Jamie was too full of waiting to be any kind of good company. She’d spent most of the last hour giving Jamie entertaining summaries of Gothic novels with unflattering appraisals of characters’ decision-making abilities. She’d kept it up, even though Jamie didn’t have it in her to laugh at anything right now. They made her almost smile and kept her partially occupied, and that was more than Jamie could have asked for.

Jamie glanced back over her shoulder as she followed the nurse out, getting one more sympathetic smile and encouraging wave from Opal before following the nurse down the same hall her dad had disappeared down three hours ago. She hadn’t seen or heard from him, since. She told herself it was because a broken bone could take a while to treat.

Issac was sitting up, awake and lucid, when Jamie slipped quietly into the room. The nurse shut the door behind her, leaving the two of them alone. His lips weren’t blue. His eyes were focused, if bloodshot. He had on two medical bracelets and a white paper card in each hand. One large, one small. The sensors were still on his forehead. He watched her with trepidation, licking his lips.

Jamie almost tripped over her shoes crossing the space between them. She wrapped both arms around him and pulled him close enough that she could tell that he was warm, that he wasn’t shaking. She tried to make out a heartbeat, but her own heart was pounding too hard. He put one hand on her back, hesitantly. The hand didn’t shake or jerk. It was steady.

She took a deep breath, pulling away, and grabbed his pillow from behind him. She cataloged all the sensors on his head, his sternum, and his wrist bracelet. She aimed for his forearm and stomach, and hit him with the paper-wrapped pillow almost as hard as she could. “Never! Again!”

Issac raised his arms, trying to fend off the unexpected attack, but neglecting to grab the pillow. She gripped it, dragging it off the side of the bed, glaring at him with stinging eyes. Even if he didn’t know what she’d said, he should be able to work out why she was mad.

He was still for a second, hands still raised defensively, not sure whether she’d strike another fluffy vinyl blow. That was fair; she wasn’t sure she wasn’t going to hit him again. She was gratified to see him frantically searching for an appropriate response.

Tentatively, he reached out a hand, and that was enough invitation. She grabbed him in another tight hug, dropping the pillow back on the bed so she could grab him with both hands and be sure she could feel him breathing. “You jerk. I threw up four times because of you. If you ever try that again, next time I’m just going to let you--” She couldn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t even finish the thought. Didn’t want the twitching, blue-lipped vision it conjured up. She realized belatedly there was no way he could hold a tablet, because he was actually hugging her back this time. She was just as happy he hadn’t heard her threat. She sniffed hard, trying not to get snot on his paper pajamas, and squeezed him again.

He answered anyway. “I promise not to ask you to do something like that again. Sorry.”

She muttered with her head on his shoulder. “You better not. Practically gave me a heart attack.”

“Liar. Your cardio system is like the only thing on you that halfway works right.”

Jamie startled, letting go. “You heard me!” Oh thank G-d, it was over. Whatever came next, it would all have to work out. Issac's gambit had paid off. Mom and Dad would have to forgive them for it eventually, now. She was almost lightheaded with relief.

“No. I’m wearing the contacts.”

Shit. She could see it cost him to even say it. But seeing him turn red in the face was good. Red wasn’t blue.

“Oh. Well. I’m glad you can use those now. I can’t even tell the difference!” He couldn’t hear her tone, but she was pretty sure it was still unconvincing. Not because it wasn’t true, but because of everything she knew would come with it. She gripped the paper of his hospital gown. “So…are you OK?”

He didn’t look at her this time, watching his own hand tap the sheets. “Well, I’m not dead. There doesn’t seem to be any more brain damage. Still can’t hear. So, mostly the same, I guess. My back hurts,” he added offhandedly. Jamie’s gut flipped, remembering the unnatural looking way it had bowed off the bed. “But I guess…mostly the same.”

He turned his hand over. There was a handwritten notecard in it, in an unfamiliar handwriting. You are in the hospital due to a seizure. Some confusion and soreness-- He closed his hand around the card, then looked at the other card, which seemed to be a business card. He didn’t turn that around, so she couldn’t read it.

“So uhm. I guess my experiment got someone’s attention at the APB--”

Her hand clenched around the paper of his shirt again. She looked down at his wrist. He wasn’t cuffed to the hospital bed or anything. Looked around the room. No sign of any security measures beyond the default.

Issac was OK, but would he stay OK? Would they ship him off to some hellish prison in Detroit? Issac couldn’t make it in a place like that-- hearing or not.

Jamie couldn’t protect him from that. From anything. “We’re at the APB,” she interrupted. He paused, then looked around the room, realizing it was true. “MARTIN called them,” Jamie added furiously. Stupid super-intelligent security system didn’t understand the risk it was putting Issac through.

“Oh. MARTIN.” He was quiet so long she had to squish the urge to bend over and check his eyes, to make sure they weren’t rolled back. Then he took an expansive breath. “Anyway, this guy who works with the APB is interested in my research. He offered me a job.” His eyes skittered up to meet hers. “And I took it.”

They stared at each other. He had the good sense to look a little hangdog. Finally, Jamie spoke, trying to sound as even-keel as possible. “I don’t want this to sound mean, but I think they should scan your brain for injuries again.”

Issac looked supremely unimpressed, but pointed at a monitor with a display that meant nothing to her. “Read all you want. I have.” He held up his phone. “I even got some notes from them.” He shifted, sitting straighter and warming to his subject. “Look, this is what I need. Just…some space to figure things out. Some backup so I can work without…” He gestured at the machinery behind him without actually looking at any of it. Jamie's eyes skimmed along them. There were a lot of them. A lot of things the doctors were worried about.

Legal protection. That was worth a lot. Was it more than their family could provide?

“But you live with Mom,” Jamie attempted to reason. “She owns everything in your lab.”

He frowned. “Well, obviously I’m going to have to move out. That’s fine. I’m old enough.”

Jamie thought of Mom’s torn up cuticles and the cracks in the dark glaze on her nails. This morning, the cracks had been gone, and the plum glaze traded out for a less obvious nude color. Tidied up, but with the expectation of future chips.

“I was going to move out soon, anyway. What’s a few months’ difference?”

“Mom’s going to see a difference.”

“Well, then that’s her problem,” he answered with attempted glibness. Jamie’s heart sank. “Yael wants you to come. With us. Xe’s moving out with me. As a bodyguard kind of thing. I don’t mind. If you want to.”

She made up her mind in an instant. She’d failed Issac once already today. She couldn’t quit now. She nodded, just once, and he seemed both pleased and surprised.

She’d figure this out one way or another.

#SHOSweekly #free book #free books #queer books

4 notes · View notes

iamadart · 2 years ago

Text

Red Rose // Riddle x female reader.

Start out as a small crush until he couldn't handle it.

Riddle admires how you can took care of Ace and Deuce plus Grim. He was quite surprised when you took over serious thing easily. Plus the three boys seem to respect you, oh, how much he which those three would respect him too. Yuu was also very happy that you could help him. Even tho you are just a magicless girl, everyone seem to respect you in their own way. He admire how you get along with people quickly. And getting on your bad side wouldn't be a fun job.

Just because you are nice and all doesn't mean you dont get in trouble. Ace and Deuce would always complain. Why? Because while Riddle scold them you got to watch. Because Riddle always blame them even if you come up with the plan. But when he scold you, it wasn't even scolding.

"Y/n you shouldn't do that, ok?" "Ok" "Good now, now, do you want to eat some tart trey made for me?" "Yup!".

"That's so unfair, he never offer us tart!" Ace say as he hide in the bush, with Deuce, Yuu and Grim "Does Riddle have a crush on...." Yuu say as the four of them freak out "He probably does, the way he is acting towards her is... Weird" Yuu say "But it's still unfair!" Grim say as Yuu shush him up "He took my magic cause I broke one rule, while she burn down a tree and got offered a tart!?" Grim asked "Yeah seriously, I swear I am going to tell her and embarrassed Riddle" Ace say "Isn't that a bit too far?" Deuce asked as Ace say no.

Everyone in heartslabyul know that you are Riddle favorite. No matter how much trouble you cause, he would and will always forgive you easily.

No one even have the guts to mess with you. Why? because it would be OFF WITH THEIR HEAD!! Riddle love it when you give him a head pat, he loved that you were so patient with him. Even tho you two aren't in a relationship, everyone already know you two are the perfect couple.

Riddle also get jelouse easily even if you aren't dating. Cater couldn't help but take some pictures, because you two look so cute together. #Cutecouple. And he would blush when you give him anything especially rose. Trey is also super supportive of you two, Riddle loved you with all his heart and he knew that you would never hurt him. Sometimes you would go to Trey and asked him on how to make strawberry tart. Even if Trey offer you help you always refuse, because if trey help you make it then it wouldn't be special anymore.

It was Monday, that day Ace got mad at Riddle normal stuff. And Riddle was getting mad again, You, Yuu, Deuce, Grim, Cater and Trey were there.

"Can you just follow the rule for once!?" Riddle asked Ace who chuckled "At least I dont hide my feeling unlike you!" Ace say "What d-do you mean!?" Riddle asked trying to act cool. "Oh dont act dumb, everyone know that you like Y/n!" Ace say.

That day things went too good. Because of Ace talking to much, Heartslabyul celebrates that Riddle and you getting together, finally. "This is going to look so good!" Cater say as he smile "I agree, it's good to see Riddle this happy" Trey say as he smile like a proud dad.

When you and Riddle got together new rules were added. Rule 812 : Y/n will always love Riddle. Even tho it sound silly it was still cute.

#disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twst grim #lovers #riddle rosehearts

8 notes · View notes

bougiebutchbitch · 11 months ago

Text

@eijaksa's tags got my brain buzzing......

Okay but imagine Izzy is legitimately in a bad way from the fever. None of them know if he's going to make it. Stede and Ed have him in their bed while they take the sofa/the floor. They take it in turns to watch over him during the night, unsure if he's gonna make it through till morning.

At one point, when Stede and Ed are both awake during the midnight handover, Izzy blearily reaches towards them, smiling like a total dork. Burbling about how his husbands are soooo fucking pretty and he's the luckiest guy in all the oceans to be married to such amazing men.

Stede sighs. "Oh, excellent," he says, exhaustion dragging on every word. "Now he's hallucinating."

Ed shushes him. He grabs Izzy's hand and kneels at the bedside. "Yeah, babe," he says - whether to make a joke out of this or to offer Izzy genuine comfort, only he knows. "We're here."

Only Izzy looks directly at him with glazed eyes and a wavery smile and says "Love you, Eddie."

Then he turns to Stede. "Love you, Stede. My captains. My husbands. Love you so much."

There's a gaping silence.

Stede and Ed stare at each other, then at Izzy, frozen but for the twitch of their eyes. Did he just say...? Does this mean...??? He knows it's them, and he's still saying all of this?

Ed grimaces, extracting himself from Izzy's feeble grip. Izzy would never let this slip into the open air if he were himself. How can Ed enjoy this confession, when it's a testament to how far gone Izzy is? Fuck, Ed can't lose him. Not after everything. He can't...

Stede, meanwhile, has bluescreened. Izzy... loves him? Him?? And as for what he feels for Izzy... Well, a year ago, he would've confidently proclaimed that he hated the little bastard as much as Izzy hated him. Now... he's not so sure.

Izzy stares at them, smile slowly falling from his face. His hand drops weakly onto the covers of their bed, and he sags against the pillows. "Kay," he mumbles into them, and Stede and Ed realise with a jerk that he was waiting for them to say it back.

They don't even have to swap a glance to communicate their intentions. They already know.

Stede and Ed pile onto the bed, bracketing Izzy, grasping his pale, sweaty hands. Interlocking their fingers, like they're tying knots in the lines.

"Of course we love you, silly," says Stede, because Ed's throat has clogged up and he's trying so hard not to cry. "You're our Iz. Our husband. Aren't you?"

Izzy relaxes, squeezing their hands with what little strength he has left. "Yeah," he mumbles, fevered and dazed and oh-so-content. Smiling, small and sweet, in a way even Ed has never seen. "Yeah. M'yours. Always. Forever."

"Our husband," chokes Ed. He bundles Izzy into his arms, roughly kissing the top of our head. "Yeah. Which means you're not allowed to leave us until we all die together, okay?"

Stede opens his mouth to inform Ed that this isn't actually what that part of the matrimonial vows means. Then he shuts it again. He shuffles in to hug Ed around Izzy's back, sandwiching their first mate between them.

"You heard Ed," he says, mock-authoritative, in Izzy's ear (and.... yeah, he's never gonna forget the tiny shiver Izzy makes in response, or the way he pushes his floppy, fever-hot body back against Stede's. Dammit.) "You've got to survive this. Husband's orders."

"Husbands' orders," mumbles Izzy into Ed's hair, nodding like that's in any way a sane or rational thing to say. Then he plants a messy kiss on Ed's jawline and falls back asleep.

He breathes so laboriously, like it hurts him. Chest rattling on the inhale, struggling to fill. Stede swaps a grim look with Ed. They both know this is bad. But, at the very least, they've given Izzy some happiness in his last days. Some comfort. And, oh, but if only they could've talked this through together sooner; if only they had more time... If only this wasn't a tragedy.

Only, as it turns out, this show is a fucking romcom.

The next morning, the fever breaks. Roach cheerily informs the Co-captains that Izzy is through the worst of it. So long as they make sure he keeps eating and drinking and resting as much as humanely possible - even if they have to tie him to the bed - he'll make a full recovery.

Izzy refuses to meet Stede or Ed's eyes. He remembers everything, including how much he 'embarrassed' himself while half-lost in delirium.

Clinging to them, telling them all about the feelings he's kept stomped way down at the bottom of his belly... Fuck. He's so fucking pathetic. They played along out of fucking pity, he knows it. If he wasn't too lethargic to lift his legs, he'd strap on his hoof, stomp to the edge of the deck, and hurl himself over again to finish the job.

"We can just pretend that never happened," he croaks, as soon as Roach leaves the room. "It's fine. Whatever."

He looks so small, cuddled up under the sweat-soaked blankets of Ed and Stede's bed. All alone.

Obviously, this has to be rectified.

"What happened?" says Ed, though he looks sad about it. Stede's heart squeezes for him - he knows what Ed's trying to do; protecting Izzy's pride, in the way he thinks Izzy wants. But Stede's not so sure that is what Izzy wants.

Taking a chance - assuring himself that Izzy's too sick to stab him if he's misjudged - Stede crawls onto the mattress next to Izzy, grasping his hand like he did last night. Lifting it to his lips, dropping a kiss on the dry, cracked knuckles while looking into Izzy's baggy, deep-set eyes.

"We looked after our husband," he says, privately congratulating himself on the hitch in Izzy's breath, the way his guarded expression shatters, just for a split-most second, revealing something vulnerable and desperate through the cracks. "Like married men are supposed to. For better or worse, in sickness or health - isn't that right, Ed?"

Ed assesses Izzy, searching for his reaction. Whatever he sees, it makes his face break into a broad smile. "Yeah," he says, shuffling onto the bed to reclaim his and Stede's positions from the previous night. One on each side of Izzy, their pinkies brushing where they rest over Izzy's legs. "Sounds about right. You got a problem with that, Iz?"

Izzy shakes his head. His eyes have gone shiny as wet pebbles, and he bites his lip like he doesn't trust himself to speak. Stede draws him into a hug, chivalrous enough not to mention the tiny snuffly sobs coming from his chest region. His gaze seeks Ed, over Izzy's lank salt-and-pepper hair. He finds him looking at Izzy in that way Izzy so often looks at Ed: awe-struck, yearning, like Ed hung the entire sky.

"You'd better recover fast, mate," Ed tells Izzy. "I wanna make proper honest men outta the two of you."

Izzy snorts moistly into Stede's feeble attempt at chest hair. Stede spares a moment to marvel at how the prospect of marriage - to the two lovely, deadly, brilliant men before him - can feel like the sturdy knots of the mainstays that hold the mast in place, rather than the knot of a noose.

Izzy goes overboard in a storm and is in a bad way when Ed pulls him out. Head lolling, lips blue, barely breathing.

Obviously they have to get him warm - so Ed snuggles him down in bed with him and Stede, all of them in minimal clothing.

Stede is delightfully charmed by how Izzy keeps mumbling both of their names even though he's barely conscious and cuddling closer to them, open and needy in a way he'd never let himself be while awake. Ed is just so fucking relieved that Izzy's okay, he refuses to let go of him for anything, burying his head in the weathered skin at the base of his throat and breathing him in.

Cue Izzy waking up the next morning and being like 😳Fuck. D-did we.... 😳 are we, like... together?

He's still a tiny bit fevered and low on inhibitions, and the naked hope on his face is breaking Ed's heart

So Ed looks at Stede with big pleading eyes and Stede immediately grins and nods, and Ed wraps his arms around Izzy and gives him a big' ol cuddle and says "Yeah mate, absolutely, we're together now. Talked it all through last night. Us three against the world, mmkay?"

And Izzy just relaxes against him, burying his face in his chest, muttering "Oh thank fuck, took us long enough"

Anyway sometimes Your Little Guy almost dying is just what you need to drag him into the throuple lsdhkfgdksgf

#my fic #my art #bbb creates #steddyhands shenanigans

377 notes · View notes