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glattandblade · 4 years ago

Text

We’ll Meet Again (c!Dream x Reader)

By Author Blade <3

Summary: You finally get to visit Dream in prison, but not with a few obstacles first. (Gender Neutral Reader)

Warnings: Spoilers (a death is mentioned)

Word Count: 1971

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”

You threw your hands up dramatically, turning away from the podium and starting to pace around the room. Your boots clicked against the dark stone as you moved about frantically, starting to get really fed up.

“You’ve said that three times already, Sam.”

“Yeah! Because it’s a terrible idea!”

You squeezed your hands into fists, your nails digging into your palms uncomfortably. You had summoned Sam to the prison, hoping that he would do his damn job and let you in to visit Dream. For the past 10 minutes you’ve been going back and forth with him, trying to convince him to let you in even for a few minutes, but he seemed hellbent on keeping you away, which was starting to piss you off.

“Why is it so bad for me to want to visit him?!” You raised your voice, your anger starting to get the better of you. Sam put a steady hand on his sword, ready to pull it out if you decide to get more aggressive.

“Because! You two were very close and now he's a prisoner. What if you try to pull something and break him out?”

“I’m not an idiot, Sam!”

He rolled his eyes, “I didn’t say that. You’re not getting it.”

You cross your arms, inviting him to explain.

“You’re emotional right now. And stressed. As the warden, I don’t think it’s safe for either of you to see each other. And quite frankly, Dream doesn’t deserve anything that will give him a smidge of hope. Especially after everything he’s done.”

You felt tears starting to prick at your eyes. You understood his job as the warden, but was he really going to be this petty?

Before you could will yourself to stop, you started to cry. You hung your head, breaking eye contact with Sam.

“I miss him. I really do.” Your words were just whispers, but Sam heard them in the silence of the prison. You wrapped your arms around yourself in hopes to find some comfort. Feelings of anger, loneliness, and embarrassment started to overtake you. Your knees felt weak and for a second you thought you might just collapse onto the floor and cry.

There was a moment of silence that felt way too long before Sam finally spoke,

“Fine.”

You looked back up at him, slightly shocked. “Really?”

“Yeah. But you do understand that if you try to pull anything, or even appear slightly suspicious, that I will have to kill you? And that you will be gone for good?”

You began to wipe your eyes, nodding. “I do. I understand.” To be reminded that you were on your last life… honestly, it kind of scared you. But you had to push that fear down. For Dream.

“And you understand that if Dream decides to kill you for any reason, he can, right?”

Your eyes widened, but you nod slowly. You were told about what happened with Tommy, so it wasn’t impossible. The idea of him doing that to you though… You can’t imagine it. You downright refuse to think about it.

“While you’re in the prison, whatever I say, goes. It’s my word above all. Before anything else, though, I’m going to need you to read this book out loud to me and sign it when you’re done…..”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After God knows how long, you finally made it to the last room. The walk was trepid and harsh, you felt sore, tired, and weak. The potions you drank wore off and, being the only thing you’ve consumed in almost two days, sat heavy in your stomach. The dark atmosphere of the prison didn’t help your mood, either. Every room was covered in obsidian or black stone. You felt completely secluded and alone, and you weren’t even the one locked up.

You would have loved to chew Sam out for how bullshit it was that he had to weaken you, but currently you weren’t in a position to do so. So you silently sat, brooding, staring at the bubbling lava that was still falling. The heat made your whole body uncomfortably sweaty and the occasional pop of the lava that splashed on you left blisters, but you powered through the pain. Soon you’d be on the other side and it would all be worth it…

You flinched and groaned as another splash of lava hit your arm.

“How much longer is this going to take?"

“Lava flows very slowly. Just keep facing forward and be patient.”

You grumbled and turned back to the wall of liquid death, resting your arms and head on your knees.

When the lava finally started to dissipate, you stood up and looked out into the room it revealed. A giant, obsidian room with a smaller cell in the middle… and in that cell, was Dream. He was sitting, his back against the empty wall.

You almost cried when you saw him. When Sam started to speak again, you were barely listening, just staring out past the lava ocean at Dream. He wasn’t facing you, instead staring at something on the other wall.

“You’re going to have to stand on the bridge and move with it. Once you reach the other side, I’m going to pull it back so you won’t be able to return. Do you understand?”

You turned around to him, “I understand.” And then he flicked a lever.

The floor beneath you started to jerk forward and you stumbled a little, your heart dropping as you noticed just how much lava once covered the room. This place is absolutely terrifying. You gulp as you try to keep a steady pace with the moving platform, your heart starting to race as you got closer.

You stepped into the smaller room, running up to the row of netherite blocks and leaning onto them.

Sam’s voice echoed from the other side, “I’m going to drop the lava back down. That will open once the lava stops flowing.”

“Dream!”

You could feel the heat return as the lava began flowing again, which caused the netherite blocks to drop. You fell forward into the room and made your way to where he sat, kneeling in front of him.

He looked you over once and blinked a few times, as if he couldn’t believe it was you.

“(Y/N)?” You nodded, tears escaping your eyes. You reached up and gently removed his cracked mask, setting it aside. His face was littered in scars, old and new, and his hair was long and unkept. Parts of his arms were wrapped in old, dirty bandages. The idea that Sam probably caused those injuries made your blood boil, but you forced that anger down for now. He looked pretty worse for wear, and it made you worry above all else.

You leaned forward, pulling him into a hug. It was sort of awkward considering his wrists and ankles were chained pretty close together, but you managed. His hands rested on your hips and he laid his head down on your shoulder.

“I’ve missed you so much.”

His breathing was shaky against your skin, “I’ve missed you, too. I didn’t think you’d visit.”

You held onto him tighter, “Don’t be an idiot.”

It was silent for the moment after that as you both revelled in each other’s touch. For that time, everything felt normal. But if you opened your eyes, you’d realize where you were and that safe feeling would be torn away from you.

Dream spoke again before that had to happen, but his words brought very little easement.

“You should go, (Y/N). It’s dangerous. I… I’m dangerous. You know what happened to Tommy.”

Hearing that shit from Sam was one thing, but from Dream himself? It made your heart sink and your head hurt.

You shook your head, moving so you could look him in the eyes. “I’m not going to leave you again.” Your fingers reached up and gingerly began to trace the scars on his face, and almost reluctantly, he leaned into your touch. “I already did that once and look at what happened to you…”

Dream moved his hands from your waist to hold your hand against his cheek. You still rubbed your thumb against it, hoping that he found comfort in the feeling the same way you do. “You can’t fix me, (Y/N).” His voice went quiet, almost as if he was just accepting this himself.

You paused. Honestly, you knew you couldn’t. There was nothing you could do at this point to help him. But you felt like you had to, need to. You already let him down so many times before- and now he was here. Suffering, Hurting, and still causing pain. Because you couldn’t stop him. Because of you failed to-

You hadn’t realized it, but you started shaking, your breathing uneven. Your racing thoughts stopped when you felt Dream place his hands on the sides of your face, leaning forward to press his forehead to yours.

“Breathe, (Y/N). It’s okay.” You listened, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. Once your breathing returned to a semi normal state, Dream continued, “I’ll be fine, alright? Eventually, I’ll get out of here. But in the meantime, you have to stay safe. It’s probably for the best if you stay away from the prison.”

“I can’t do that.” You wanted your words to sound sharp, no room for argument, but your voice was still a little shaky and the tears that returned didn’t help.

“You have to. You could get hurt. You’re on your last life, too.” Being reminded of that for the second time made you anxious again, but you kept taking deep breaths, processing what Dream was saying.

He’s right. He can handle himself. And you need to stay out of harm's way. It would be better with whatever he was planning if he didn’t have to plan for your safety, too.

You took his wrists and gently moved his hands down to his lap. You took a breath, preparing yourself for your next string of words.

“I love you. And I’m going to make sure everything works out, for the both of us. I’ll listen, I’ll stay out of the way. I won’t visit again. But you have to promise me that you’ll only do what’s necessary, and not hurt anyone else.” You were holding onto the hope that you could help, because hope is all you had at this point.

To his core, Dream is a liar and a manipulator. He hated lying to you, though. But he would do whatever it took if it ensured your safety.

“I promise, (Y/N).” He leaned in, leaving a quick kiss on your lips. “I love you, too.” You felt tears start to well up in your eyes again as you grabbed onto him for a final hug.

“You have to promise me you’ll be safe, too. I’m not the only one hanging on by a thread.”

He nodded, placing his hands back on your hips. “Of course, I’ve got it all prepared.” You leaned back to give him another kiss, trying your best to cement the feeling of his lips on yours.

Then, you heard Sam’s voice over the speaker, “Okay, okay. You two have had enough time. Go stand in front of the lava, (Y/N).” You audibly sighed, moving to stand up with Dream. He held onto your hand for a second longer, giving it a squeeze that made your heart hurt.

“We’ll see each other again.” He whispered to you, “Just be patient.”

You nod, giving him a final goodbye kiss until who even knows how long.

The walk back was thankfully quiet, Sam giving you space to calm yourself as you walked the gauntlet and left the prison.

Masterlist

#dsmp #dsmp x reader #dream x reader #dream smp #dsmp fanfic #awesamdude #my brain was put on overdrive trying to write this #🎸#authorblade #mcyt x reader #dream mcyt #c!dream x reader #c!dream x y/n #c!dream x you

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a-shakespearean-in-paris · 4 years ago

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I'd love to see your take on Cullen's recovery arc as an alternative analysis! I feel like we're only ever presented with the two options of: "he needs to atone!" Or "he was a victim that needs protection!", neither of which I've ever fully agreed with. I think it's a result of the lack of attention given to his arc in DAI, which leaves a ton of room for interpretation, and results in people swaying towards either camp depending on how sympathetic they are towards him and his history.

I totally agree with this.

The problem with the way Cullen is presented in DAI is that he’s presented in an unambiguously positive light, and as @tokutenshi pointed out in this post (which I do agree with) if your Hawke was hostile to him you don’t get some of his dialogue about questioning Meredith. Additionally if you side with the mages rather than the templars Cullen has some realizations about the Order that you’re not going to hear. It’s too little too late for a lot of people, though I would also argue with what tokutenshi said, he was severely traumatized after the Blight (if you take a female mage Warden in the tower during the Witch Hunt DLC you will get lines that indicate he is suffering from PTSD, notice the lines about him being “twitchy” and “jumpy”) Personally I think we can find a middle ground between Cullen being a victim of manipulation and indoctrination, someone who suffered after experiencing trauma, and someone who works hard in the moment to do some good, whether we can or should call it “atonement” or not. That being said, he does acknowledge in Inquisition that the war against Corypheus is his chance to atone, and he works overtime to the point where it’s commented upon by several characters including the Inquisitor how hard he works.

By the time we meet Cullen in Inquisition a couple of years have passed since the chantry’s explosion. This is where I will be critical of the writing because I do think the game should have better established what exactly Cullen was doing in the time in between, though we get bits and clues from dialogue if you pay attention: He served as Kirkwall’s knight Commander after Meredith died, and he and presumably Aveline’s guard worked to basically repair the city, as Rylen says in Griffon Wing Keep that there was a lot of rubble, a lot of people without homes. Cassandra noticed Cullen’s work and recruited him to the Inquisition. (Also, keep in mind that the Inquisition was originally going to help quell the worst excess of the mage and templar fighting, restore order because the chantry lost control. Then the conclave happened, it went boom, and suddenly the Inquisition’s purpose became far greater than anyone would have expected. So Cullen as Cassandra’s choice of Commander makes total sense to me, considering he was a former templar and bringing him in basically acted as a symbol to any wayward templar, letting them know that there could be another way. But I digress on that part, haha.)

I *think* some people are dissatisfied with Cullen’s “redemption” arc in DAI because we don’t really see him fall on the sword or beat himself up for his past. There’s also no moment where he like, faces a mage he maybe knew in Kirkwall or has to deal with the mages not trusting him. Obviously of course there is nuance there as well as Toku and I mentioned--he wasn’t allowed to heal as much as he should have before being shipped to Meredith. However, here’s an interesting bit of dialogue you can get if you pick the right options after Perseverance if you tell him he doesn’t need lyrium:

Quiz: The man you were. You can’t pretend like he never existed.

Cullen: Not even if I wanted to. But I’m here now. I can make that mean something.

Cullen knows he screwed up. What’s more, he doesn’t want to forget he screwed up. But he lives in the moment to make things right. Blackwall’s arc actually shows him falling on the sword and wanting to atone, versus with Cullen it’s implied he has come to terms with his screw ups off screen. He doesn’t continuously beat himself up, he does what he can for the Inquisition to the point where if the Quiz tells him to go back on lyrium for the better of his soldiers, he does, knowing it just may kill him. There is also limited dialogue that challenges his views which turns some people off, but I know for my Inquisitor she’s very much about the now and what they both can do in the now. I won’t blame anyone who wants to be able to challenge him more, but frankly I find the fact he doesn’t continuously fall on the sword or beat himself up interesting.

All that being said, I do think of his arc as more of one of recovery versus redemption. And to be frank I’m kind of critical of the term “redemption” and what makes good redemption arcs or not. Someone having a “redemption arc” seems to imply that there’s only one road to the top of the mountain when maybe redemption is something you should always strive for? But as for the “recovery” arc: the chantry, IMO, purposely devoids both mages and templars of a personhood or life outside the order and Circle and treats them as objects. Many templar recruits are children and are basically indoctrinated to believe they serve the Maker and they are needed and that they do the Maker’s will. There’s an interesting bit of dialogue you can get if your character is a warrior and talks to Cullen about the templar spec, basically if the Quiz says “templars serve the Maker, I’d do the same.” Cullen basically replies, “uh, yeah, that’s not going to make you righteous, believe me,” implying this was the way he once indoctrinated to think, but he no longer believes it so. Templars are given lyrium for their abilities, but also to placate them, something Alistair says in DAO.

After Kirkwall Cullen sees where the Order is going, gets an offer from Cassandra and decides that if he removes the “part that kept [him] chained,” he would find his own purpose again. (He says this is your Quiz makes him take lyrium.) In Inquisition we learn he always wanted to protect people. (Our local mind reader Cole says “some templars want to only protect, like Cullen” if you ask him about templars.) And as a kid living in rural nowhere Ferelden, he saw the templars as protectors. Why I interpret his arc as more about recovery than redemption all has to do with Perseverance and the way you as the player can handle it: You can either let him know he can start over, he can endure and one day find a life of his own away from duty and battle, or you can make him take it and thus let him remain indoctrinated to what the chantry taught him, that there is nothing outside of duty and battle. It comes down between a choice of “you are leashed to what the chantry made you till you die” to “you are more and you can recover and make your own life,” which he does do by Tresspasser, romance or not. At the end of the game if you keep him off lyrium he basically thanks the Inquisitor for giving him a chance, letting him know he could be more. Additionally, a lyrium free Cullen in Tresspasser speaks of meeting his siblings again, developing a relationship. If you make him take it forever he refuses to see them.

I could also see the arc as one of faith, and finding it again. If you keep him off lyrium the prayer in the chantry he speaks is one of quiet reassurance and finding strength through his faith, but if you make him take it the prayer is “blessed are the peacekeepers” and it’s uttered desperately as if he is trying to believe it. He also mourns how far he fell. All this to say that I find it very interesting his writer focused his personal quest around the lyrium and what lyrium represents rather than say, him meeting a mage who lived in Kirkwall or something and him trying to atone to them.

When I wrote my post about why Cullen gets so much fandom related wank I got a lot of different responses that echoed the same thing about Cullen’s arc not getting a lot of attention. I think there is a lot of good writing there with his personal quest, but his writing doesn’t fill in every single gap---not to mention people are going to have vastly different experiences on how they played the games till Inquisition. And my examples of dialogue are things you may not get if you don’t pick the right options. And heck, some people only have played Inquisition.

So, I think me calling his arc in Inquisition a recovery arc has partially been not me trying to justify why I like him, but analyze a differing way a character who has screwed up in the past is written. Blackwall’s arc is a true redemption arc IMO. Cullen’s isn’t so clear cut as a redemption arc, but at the end of the day it is truly about him finding his own purpose again, which leads me to lean more toward calling it a “recovery arc.”

#cullen rutherford #replies #thanks!#toku I was going to expand your post but I got this ask and thought I'd talk about it here #I once wrote more about this in a longer post that expanded on it being a recovery arc I think #but this is a summary #resjade #long post #I had a screenshot of the quote but the post was already too long lol

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orange-waterfalls · 4 years ago

Text

Just Dance for the Nintendo Wii

Yancy x gn!reader

ty anon for the request!

A/N: Shit was so fun to write I swear. Just Dance was my childhood. I had a thing about memorizing all the dances in all the songs in all the games I got. I also didn’t actually look at the moves in the corner I just watched the dancer lmao. And when I found out other people didn’t do that I just ???it’s so much easier???? I might’ve projected onto Yancy a lil bit. It’s a fun fic! It is a fun and light-hearted fic, I promise. Couple curse words. TW mention of smoking and cigarettes. That’s about it. I think it could be seen as platonic or romantic. Reader does call him “babe” at one point but I call my friends darling and sweetie so I think it’s fine. Might be a few typos since I never read through my fics lmao. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.9k

Lunch ended and you immediately shot up out of your chair, making your way down the hall. Your friends stared after you, slightly offended you didn’t even bother saying goodbye. You would have any other day, but this was important.

You stomped your way to the warden's office, pushing past the guards who mostly just gave you confused looks. You would have made your way around them, asking them to make some room, but this was important.

You kicked the door open and stomped up to the desk. The warden jumped and put a hand over his heart. You were not an aggressive person. Really, you weren’t. But this. This was important. This was the most important thing you ever came up with.

“Jesus, child, you ever heard of knocking?” He breathed, exasperated. He looked like he was gonna keep talking, so you slammed your hands on his desk. A few months before, he probably would have had you thrown in solitary for even walking in there. But you’re a good person, and you behave for the most part. So he raised an eyebrow and waited for you to make whatever point you wanted to make.

“Wii,” you said, simply. He blinked a couple times.

“Beg pardon?” He laughed. You were on a bit of a power trip and wanted to respond with “then beg”, but the conversation probably would have ended there. You made it this far without breaking down, you couldn’t stop now.

“I want a Wii,” you said, slowly. The warden squinted at you before chuckling a little. You glared daggers at him. Laugh at you, will he?!

“Now, kiddo, that ain’t--”

“Shut up. I don’t care. I just need you to listen.” He gave you a look and leaned back in his chair. You quieted for a moment, thinking about exactly what you were gonna say. You honestly hadn’t thought you’d make it this far.

“Go ahead, I’m a busy man,” He shook you out of your thoughts. You squared your shoulders.

“Yancy likes to dance,” you stated. You stared at each other in silence for a moment as you prepared your words in your head. He waved his hand, telling you to keep going. You cleared your throat, “Yancy likes to dance… and we don’t have access to the internet.”

“And you’re not going to.” He warned.

“Yeah, yeah, I figured…” You sighed. “But that’s not what I’m here for.” He knitted his eyebrows together in intrigue.

“Alright…” He leaned forward, arms on his desk.

“Yancy can’t keep coming up with songs and dances when he gets bored. It takes a long time, and he’s getting burned out. I think that if we had another- if we had access to prepared dances and songs, it’d be better.” You stuttered. That’s okay. As long as he was listening. “I think if we had a… a game, a dancing game. Like Just Dance on the Wii or something, then we’d be better. Happier? I mean, we’re happy, but… more-more happy. There’s never… too much… happy…” You lost yourself towards the end there. You started shaking a little as the whole situation hit you like a train. What the hell were you doing? This is a PRISON, not a middle school. Why would they want you to be happy? Oh, this was a stupid idea… no. You made it this far. Sure this was stupid, but you were NOT going to back down. Not until you got a-

“Ok.”

“Huh?” You asked, dumbfounded. You stared at Mr. Murder-Slaughter, and he stared right back. “What’d you say?” He stood up from his desk and walked over to you. You fought the urge to book it and stood your ground. You puffed up your chest a little to look intimidating. From the smirk he got on his face, it wasn’t working.

“I said, ok.” Your shoulders dropped and you let out a shaky breath.

“Really? I mean… really?”

“Sure, why not. Boosts morale, stops people from wanting to escape.” He shrugged. You stood there, mouth agape, probably looking like a moron.

“Thanks.” You murmured. He smiled at you, and you smiled right back. He took your shoulders and spun you around towards the door.

“Yeah, yeah, now get outta here! You’ve got dishes to do!” He pushed you out, and you gave him one last smile before running down to the kitchen. He watched you trip over your own feet and shook his head. You ran past a guard, who heard the noise and got confused.

“What the hell was all that?”

“Fuck around and find out!”

---

You startled awake to the sound of talking coming from outside your cell. You rubbed your eyes and looked around, not seeing your cellmate. You sighed and managed to lift yourself up out of the bed. You stretched and heard your back crack in several places. That sounded… worrying to say the least, but you had other things on your mind. For example: where was everyone?

You made your way through the prison, eventually ending up in the common room where everyone was talking over each other excitedly.

“Sorry, forgot to set the alarm!” A guard apologized. You nodded at him. You turned and saw Tiny and slid over next to her.

“What’re we doing? Is it Thursday already?” You whispered.

“Nah, warden bought a game system,” she answered. You stared at her, mouth open slightly. “Keep staring at me we’re gonna fight.”

“Uh, sorry.” You blinked and looked forward, standing on the tips of your toes to try and get a better look. “What gaming system?”

“A Wii. Warden said we each get 30 minutes per week.” She explained. She then waited for you to respond. You didn’t.

“Dude, you alright?” She gently reached out and shook your arm.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I’m good.” You mumbled. “He buy any games yet?”

“Uhhhhh Super Mario Bros, Kirby’s Epic Yarn, Animal Crossing, Smash…”

“Mm-hm, mm-hm, as he should.”

“I think those Wii Sports games…”

“Just Dance?”

“Don’t know. Said to talk to him if there’s a game you want.” You nodded and gave her a small fistbump before walking over to the warden, who stood away from the group. You leaned over and saw BamBam and Sparkles in a heated game of Smash Bros. You stood next to the warden and watched.

“So, you actually listened to my request?” You looked up at him in slight disbelief.

“Course I did. Why not? Like I said, boosts morale.” He smiled. You nodded and you both looked forward again.

“How much was it?” You inquired.

“$100 on eBay.”

“Deadass?!”

“Absolutely. Great condition, too. Been used before, but not necessarily broken.”

“Come with the games?” “Some. Had to tell the guy I was buying it for my foster kids for him to give them to me. Them along with the Wii is what made it $100.” He explained

“So, we’re your kids now?” You snickered.

He only answered with a hum. You looked at him, blinking rapidly.

“What?” He said in a defensive tone.

“Nothing! Don’t worry about it!” You waved him off. He crossed his arms in a huff but dropped it.

“Buy Just Dance?”

“In the back. Saving it for when Yancy shows up.”

“Shows up? He’s not here?” “No. He went to the yard when everyone gathered here.” You hummed and looked down, thinking.

Why did Yancy leave? Did he not care about it? Did he not want to play? That would complicate things a little…

“Instead of speculating, why don’t you go ask him?” He scoffed. You looked at the warden, scandalized.

“You’re an easy person to read, child.” He set a hand on your shoulder. “He might be out in the yard.” You sighed and walked away from the cheering crowd as BamBam pumped his fists triumphantly and Sparkles fell to his knees.

---

You opened the door to the yard, peeking out to see if anyone was there. Lo and behold, there he was, Yancy, sitting on the grass having a smoke. You walked over to where he was and plopped down next to him. He jumped a little, but breathed harshly once he saw it was you.

“Whatcha doin’ out here?” You queried, softly.

“Hm.” He grunted in response.

“Everyone’s inside… having some fun…”

“Hm…”

“I think Jimmy might play Animal Crossing…”

“Hm.”

“Yancy, what’s wrong?” You sighed and turned your body towards him a little.

“Nothin’, nothin’s wrong.” He lied. “C’mon, man, we both know that’s a lie.” You tilted your head to look at him. He avoided your eyes.

“Yancy.” You said sternly. He faltered a little hearing your concern. He glanced at you. Your eyes softened. “What’s wrong?”

“Is just… I never really gots to play games when I was young… and… I dunno… don’t know… how to...” He mumbled. You nodded in understanding, shifting until your shoulders were touching his. You stared at the fence while Yancy kept smoking. You tried not to cough when he exhaled his smoke, but you couldn’t help it. He looked at you apologetically before putting the cigarette out on the grass. You both sat there for a little, enjoying each other’s company.

“So…” you breathed out after a little while. He turned to you with an eyebrow raised. “You’re upset because you don’t know how to play the games?”

“‘N I’ll look stupid while playing ‘em, yeah.” He finished with a scoff. A smile grew on your face.

“I know a game that’ll be really easy for you…” you sang. He furrowed his eyebrows at you.

“...what is it?” He hesitated. You bit your lip to keep from giggling as he looked at you worriedly.

---

“Wait, so… the hell is Just Dance?” Yancy scratched his head as you led him back to the common room. It was late, and everybody else was back in their cells. You convinced a guard to let you out by pretending you were gonna cry.

“It’s a game where you dance,” You said in a condescending tone. “Come on, Yance, use deductive reasoning.”

“I’on even know what that means,” He argued playfully. You brought him to the small TV, handing him a remote as you turned it on.

“It just… There are songs with dances prepared, and you have to do the dances as you see them on screen. Got it?” You looked up at Yancy, who was busy staring at the glowing screen of the tv. It was on the Wii home menu, so there wasn’t much to see. However, to Yancy, it was one of the coolest things he’d ever seen.

“Whoa whoa whoa, wassat?” He pointed at the screen and jumped a bit when he saw the cursor move as he moved the remote. He shifted it over until it was on the Mii Channel.

“Uh… that’s the place where you can make a little avatar of yourself. It works on some of the games, but not Just Dance.” You explained. “...you wanna make a Mii?” He pouted and gave you puppy dog eyes. You rolled your eyes and stood up, bringing your Player One cursor on the screen and clicking the channel.

You told Yancy the mechanics, how to change everything, and what to do once he was done. You made your own Mii, explaining everything along the way, and told him to make his once you were done. Yancy, being the creative boy he is, spent half an hour on his Mii, trying to get everything perfect. You just stood next to him, trying not to yawn. Like I said, it was late. Eventually, he finished and you both got to see your Mii’s next to each other, along with some other people’s. He kept dragging his over next to you, trying to force them to interact. He got very upset when you told him they couldn’t hug or anything. He let you exit out of the channel and go into Just Dance.

“Any particular song?” You scrolled through the songs, letting them play for a couple seconds so he could know what each was like.

“Stop!” He called. “Go back.” You scrolled back to the last song you let play.

“Britney Spears? Serious?” You teased. It was all in good fun, you loved her too. Who wouldn’t?

He grumbled a little to himself. It sounded a little like “not my fault her songs bop”. You breathed out a chuckle and clicked the song, whisper-singing the lyrics as you did.

“My loneliness is killin’ me… Blue, green, orange, or pink?” You asked. After not getting an answer, you looked at Yancy to see the problem. He was frowning at the screen. “Yance?”

“Why’re they all girls?”

“Because it’s a traditionally girl-ish song.”

“I’m not a girl.”

“I know you’re not. Just pick a color.”

“Why are they cheerleaders?”

“Because they can be. Yancy, pick a color.”

“But why-”

“Yancy I swear to God pick a fucking color.” He hummed and then picked blue. You picked green.

You got into the same stance as the girl on the screen, and Yancy copied you. The music started up, and you started dancing. Yancy seemed a bit startled as he hurried to copy you. He wheezed out a little laugh, flailing his arms a little, trying to figure out what move you were on. You bit your lip to not laugh at him. You both kept going, and Yancy eventually got into the rhythm. He stuck his tongue out in concentration and you stared for a moment, not believing how adorable he was. Then you remembered that there was a winner in this game so you shook your head and kept dancing.

Eventually the song ended, and you both breathed a little harder than normal. You looked at your scores, and found that you'd won. You clapped your hands and cheered. Yancy crossed his arms.

"Whatever, this is my first time!" He scoffed. But you could see the smile on his face. You stretched your arms and yawned, turning the Wii off and leaving the remote.

"Welp, we should get back--" you turned to head towards your cell.

"No!" Yancy stood in front of you. You tried to go around him, but he kept blocking your way. He grabbed your shoulders and held you in place.

"I want a rematch."

"Yancy, it's late…" you whined.

"Just one more! Please?" He pleaded. He, again, gave you those puppy dog eyes you could never say no to. You sighed loudly, grabbing the remote again and turning the Wii back on.

"I don't understand why you can't do this yourself…" you mumbled, clicking on Just Dance again.

"I… like spending time with you," he said softly. You squinted at him.

"You'd feel awkward dancing alone, huh?"

"Yeah…"

"Fine."

"Ooh! Let's do--"

"Nah, nah, nah. You're keeping me up. I get to pick the song."

"...'This is Halloween'?"

"Bet your ass."

"But that--"

"Shut it, Yancy, I'll leave."

"Okay! Sorry…

"..."

"...can I be the pumpkin?"

"Of course you can be the pumpkin, babe."

---

You woke up really tired in the morning. You didn't know when you got back to bed, but the guard that let you out was asleep by the door when you arrived. You didn't even consider escaping, you were so tired. You just entered the cell and shut the door behind you.

In the morning, you got up and dragged yourself into the common room again. Everyone was playing the Wii again. You rubbed your eyes and stood next to Tiny.

"Fuck happened to you?" She scoffed.

"Yancy happened…" you yawned

"Ah. Long night, huh?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Ye-no. Wait, what? No, gross. We played Just Dance."

"Oh, was it fun?"

"For the first couple. The rest I was way too tired to be happy about…"

"Aw, did wittle baby need theiw nap?" She teased.

"I'm not wi-little! I'm not-I'm not little! Shut up!" You complained as she laughed.

"Well, Jimmy played Wii tennis against a guard. Now he's playing the warden."

"Seriously? Oh my God."

"He's currently the reigning champion."

"Who's going against him next?" You hear a thud, like someone fell.

"Got-dang it!" Mr. Murder-Slaughter yelled.

“That’d be me,” She patted you on the back before walking up next to Jimmy. Mr. Murder-Slaughter passed her as she walked, limping. He stood by you.

“You seem to be having fun.” You teased.

“Ah, shut it…” He growled and rubbed his arm. “How’s Yancy?”

“He’s good. He likes the game a lot.” You explained.

“I’d hope so, otherwise there was no reason to buy this thing.” He scoffed.

“Eh… I dunno about that…” You listened to Tiny laugh loudly from where she stood in front and smiled. You turned your head a little and saw Yancy leaning against the opposite wall. You caught each other’s eyes. He nodded his head to the Wii. You shrugged and walked up. He did the same.

Once Tiny and Jimmy were done with their match, Jimmy keeping his title as champion, you and Yancy walked up to the wii, taking the remotes and clicking Just Dance.

“What song should we do?” You scrolled through the list.

“Avril Lavigne!” Someone yelled from the back of the room. You had a sneaking suspicion of who it was, but kept it to yourself.

“Girlfriend by Avril Lavigne it is!” You clicked the song.

“Uh… I don’t know this song, bud,” He whispered to you. You clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Oh you’re gonna love it.”

“I’m not sure I like that look.”

“Calm down, it’ll be great.”

“Okay… can i be the punk girl?”

“I wanna be the punk girl…”

Cue the puppy eyes…

“...fine, you can be the punk girl.”

#yancy iplier #yancy markiplier #ahwm yancy #yancy x reader #yancy x y/n #yancy x you #yancy x gn!reader #yancy x male!reader #yancy x female!reader #x reader #x reader fanfiction #x male!reader #x female!reader #x gender neutral reader #ahwm x reader #markiplier egos x reader #markiplier ego fanfic

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tradgicworks · 3 years ago

Text

Heartfelt:P-1 A World of Sorrow

When a student of a private school disappears during stormy night, three strangers come together to look for her and end up discovering the dark secrets of the world around them. WORD COUNT - 3134

The light of the setting sun peered into the old diner. Black clouds dotted the sky. Sophie took a long sip from her milkshake and stared wistfully at the horizon. Her golden bangle bracelet slid down her arm as she did.

“What’s wrong?” Gwyneth asked as she noticed her gaze.

Gwyneth brushed her bangs aside. Her dark brown colored eyes were filled with concern. She had voluminous long black hair that covered her shoulders like a fluffy mane. She wore a uniform which consisted of a long skirt, a simple tucked in blouse, and a blazer- all in different shades of purple.

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m just thinking about some stuff,” Sophie said with a meek smile.

"What kinda stuff?" Gwyneth asked.

"Midterms, winter vacation, piano practice. The usual," Sophie replied.

“Wow, not even trying to hide the fact that you weren’t paying attention to my story, huh?" Gwyneth gave an exaggerated sigh.

"I'm sorry," Sophie awkwardly smiled.

“It's okay, I forgive you. Anyways, remember that girl that went missing a couple months ago, she was a freshman, um, vice president of the chess club or something. Well some of the older students have been talking about how this isn’t the first time that it has happened,” Gwyneth ate one of her few remaining fries. “Near the end of last year’s spring semester a different freshman suddenly moved away. This normally wouldn't have been seen as strange except for the fact that it was right in the middle of finals. Supposedly, one of her friends decided to call her parents to ask about what happened only to be told that the phone number had been out of service for weeks.”

“Spooky,” Sophie commented simply.

“Mhm. So, the older girls started talking and it turned out that a lot of students went missing over the years. They say that it's been about fifteen students in total that have suddenly disappeared. For every single one of them there was a convenient excuse for why, but all of it just seems too coincidental,” Gwyneth leaned in for dramatic effect. “Me thinks there’s a conspiracy afoot.”

“Really? I suppose it is strange, but it could just be that the seniors get overactive imaginations with how much free time they have during finals,” Sophie sighed.

“Aw come on, humor me at least," Gwyneth leaned back. “Don’t you think it’s weird that the academy has a dedicated security team that answers directly to Capital City’s police department? We even have a creepy name for them- Wardens- that’s not normal!”

“Well, given the kind of students that attend it’s not that strange,” Sophie said.

“You really are playing devil's advocate today, huh?” Gwyneth gave a friendly smile.

“Sorry,” Sophie lowered her gaze.

Gwyneth’s smile turned to a face of concern.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay-'' Gwyneth started before she was interrupted by the chimes of their phones.

“Curfew,” Sophie swiped at her smartphone. “It’s time to head back.”

“Right...” Gwyneth gazed at her for a few seconds as she packed up her things and got ready to leave before following suit.

The two left a tip for the waiter and headed out into the cold air of the coming winter. The sleepy sky matched the energy of the few students that remained outside, all of them in a quiet hurry to get back to the main campus of Dorothy Elaine Atham's Private Academy for Young Women, or “the academy” as the students plainly referred to it. It was originally constructed in the early 1940s, yet it managed to remain one of the most prestigious high schools in Capital City. This was mostly due to the academy having the support of the Capital City Police Department. They would employ off-duty officers to act as the academy’s security team, or ‘Wardens’ as they were officially referred to. As a result the academy set itself apart as one of the safest private high schools in the entirety of the United States. Strict curfews, no relationships, mandatory dorms, quarterly inspections by the Wardens, uniforms and an arduous curriculum were some of the measures taken to keep the students safe. Wealthy families from all over the country enrolled their children with peace of mind that they would be safe, allowing the school to afford top of the line facilities, staff, and to further its reputation even more. It was said that the academy was so stern with its policies that even the lightest violation could lead to expulsion. Of course that was just a rumor.

Sophie and Gwyneth eventually found themselves back at the main entrance of the academy. Tall walls made of brick and black fencing led to two large half open gates. A flower bed filled with wilting violet roses that matched the student’s outfits sat underneath them. A tall Warden stood at the side of the entrance. Her bright green eyes filled with overwhelming sternness locked with Sophie’s. Sophie averted her gaze and made her way in alongside Gwyneth.

“W-Well, see you tomorrow,” Sophie said to Gwyneth as she took out a pair of wireless earbuds.

“Wait,” Gwyneth gently grabbed her arm before she left. “How about we walk back to your dorm together? I got some more spooky stories I want to tell you about.”

“You won’t make it back to your dorm in time if we do that, you’re on the other side of campus.” Sophie replied.

“I could just stay at your place, y’know like a sleepover,” Gwyneth doubled down as she let go of her arm.

“We both know you can’t do that,” Sophie let out a long breath and held Gwyneth’s shoulders. “I’m fine, really. I know you’re worried about me but I just haven't been getting a lot of sleep. That’s all.”

“Are you sure?” Gwyneth asked.

“I’m sure,” Sophie looked her in the eyes. “I promise that I’m okay.

“Breakfast?” Gwyneth asked dejectedly.

“Of course, breakfast sounds great,” Sophie gave a convincing enough smile. “Now let’s hurry, before the dorm doors lock.” She said as she let go of her.

“Yeah, goodnight,” Gwyneth smiled slightly.

“Goodnight,” Sophie replied before putting in her earbuds and selecting a classical music playlist.

The sun was halfway nestled into the horizon by the time they split. Night was rapidly approaching. The pitch black clouds moved as a mound, thunder rumbled in the distance. The academy resembled a small college more than a high school. Four buildings took up the majority of the campus, each housing their respective grade. A well decorated plaza rested in the middle of the four buildings, where the freshmen, sophomores, juniors, and seniors could interact with each other during lunch or after classes. The dorms sat a few hundred feet from their respective buildings. Wilting but mostly green grass took the majority of the empty space in the campus. Trees and flower beds stood beside the lamp posts that lit up the sprawling walkways. The campus barely had enough room for everything that was built on it, but it was efficient nonetheless.

Sophie’s brows furrowed as the freshmen dorm came into view. It was tucked away in the farthest corner of the campus. While the other dorms enjoyed a nice view of the academy, the freshmen dorms were greeted with the old auditorium. It was by far the oldest building on campus and in a desperate need for renovation. Unfortunately, the construction was inexplicably postponed until the end of the semester- leaving the freshmen with the sight of an ugly, half finished, and decaying building.

Sophie glanced at the front doors. A girl leaned against the doors as she chewed gum. Sophie overlapped the ends of her blazer together and averted her eyes. The girl stopped chewing as Sophie walked to the entrance. Sophie quickly took out her ID card and pressed it against the door’s scanner. The girl swatted her ID to the ground as it finished scanning.

“Whoops,” The girl, Eva, leered in a pretentious tone as she put her arm around her shoulder. “Didn’t see you there princess.”

Eva blew a bubble with her gum and popped it with a sharp snap. Her dyed ash blonde hair was tied into a messy bun. Her hazel colored eyes were flecked with dull orange blemishes. She wore a thick black hoodie and a short skirt which barely fell within the academy’s dress code. A faint but irritatingly smug smirk stretched across her face.

“What do you want, Eva?” Sophie said meekly.

“Nothing much, nothing much at all. I just wanted to talk to my dear friend for uh,” Eva glanced at her wrist watch. “Five minutes.”

“We’re not friends,” Sophie kept her gaze glued to the floor.

“It hurts me to hear you say that,” Eva squeezed her shoulder until she winced from the pain. “Listen, I need a little favor. As you know, winter break is in a week and I’m running low on funds, so I was wondering if you can help me. It’ll run you about five thousand dollars, but of course that’s nothing compared to all the allowance money your mommy and daddy are giving you, right?”

“No,” Sophie muttered.

“Excuse me?,” Eva tilted her head until she met her gaze. “You need to speak up, I can’t hear you through your teeth.”

“I’m not giving you anything,” Sophie pushed her off of herself. “Leave me alone or I’ll report you to the Wardens!”

“Oh, really now?” Eva chuckled dryly. “I think you and I both know you can’t follow up on such a threat, not without putting that friend of yours in a whole lot of trouble…Well you do have a point, I can’t take what’s not in my hands after all…” She glanced at her watch and gave a sadistic smirk.

“But neither can you,” Eva said before sweeping Sophie’s legs and causing her to trip backwards.

Sophie yelped in pain as she just managed to catch herself. By the time she got up Eva was already inside of the dorm with her ID in hand. She rushed to the doors only to find that they were already locked. The sound of a grandfather clock chimed through the PA system signaling the start of the curfew.

“It’s a good thing you managed to scan the door before you dropped your ID, huh? That way it's on record that you got in here before curfew. Your perfect attendance is not in danger, though it was a real shame you lost your ID. Don’t worry though I’ll turn it in to the lost and found in the morning. Have a nice night, princess! I hear it's going to be a dark and stormy one,” Eva laughed while waving Sophie’s ID in the air.

“Wait!” Sophie pleaded as she desperately tried to open the door, but no matter how much she pushed against them, the doors refused to budge.

She froze as she felt a cold drop of rain fall down her neck. She looked up at the rumbling dark sky. It began to pour. Sophie clung to what little shelter could find at the side of the building. She took out her phone and tried to call Gwyneth, only to find that her screen had shattered completely from when she tripped. She looked around for a Warden but found none. She yanked out her earbuds and angrily threw them into her bag in frustration. Pathetically faint music leaked out of them. She leaned against the wall and sunk until she was sitting with her knees to her chest.

Despite its claims to security, the reality is that the school can’t keep everyone safe. With the majority of students coming from wealthy backgrounds, treating one too harshly could lead to the parents withdrawing their donations. Without those funds, the school would cease to function- something the academy avoided at all costs. As such, there was an unwritten rule that the wealthier the family, the more lenient the punishment. Though many students did not take advantage of this reality, after all attending the academy was a privilege. All except for Eva. Nobody really knows why, but the school would turn a blind eye to her many misdeeds. Some speculated that it was due to her role as one of the academy’s star athletes, others thought that she was secretly related to the headmaster. Regardless of the rumors, the reality was that she was cruel, spiteful, and above all, manipulative. She made a habit of harassing students that had unfortunately drawn her attention. Whether it be through blackmail, harassment, or slander, she would abuse her victim until they were forced to do whatever she wanted. No matter how much students tried to retaliate she always seemed to have the upper hand and the academy would turn the other way. As a result she had gained an infamous reputation amongst the freshmen and sophomores as someone to be avoided at all costs. Unfortunately for Sophie, Eva seemed to be obsessed with making her time at the academy as miserable as possible. Eva’s persistence was so overwhelming that Sophie ended up being isolated from the rest of her class out of fear of Eva alone. The only person brave enough to still talk to her was her closest friend Gwyneth. She did her best to make sure that Sophie was rarely alone and felt safe. However, even that backfired. Eva had somehow managed to take a photo of Gwyneth that would lead to her expulsion if revealed to the public. Ever since then, Eva has hung that threat over Sophie’s head and she couldn’t let anything happen to her best friend. As such, Sophie felt so alone. She felt as if she was left to fend for herself against the clutches of a monster.

Sophie pressed her face against her knees, frustration weighing at her heart, and began to cry. Harsh winds began to pick up and slam waves of rain against her. Sophie took a shaky deep breath and slowly rose to her feet. She looked at her surroundings to try to find better shelter. Her gaze eventually lingered on the auditorium. She choked down a cough before grabbing her bag and heading towards the unfinished building.

. . .

The outside of the auditorium was a mix of moldy wood and peeling paint. Its towering size gave it the imposing essence of a Victorian mansion. Overgrown vines and unkept leaves dressed the entirety it’s walls. Sophie steeled herself as she approached the entrance. She stopped under a small awning that hung over the front doors where no rain seemed to fall. Lightning followed by thunder struck as she gripped her rain soaked skirt and wrung out the excess water. She shivered from the cold as she dried herself the best she could. When she finished, she leaned against the door.

“The dorms open up at 6 am, I’ll be able to get my ID back then,” She thought to herself as she stared at the hole riddled awning. “Maybe father will buy me a new phone, it was pretty old anyways.”

She grabbed her wrist and felt for her bracelet, her only reminder of warmth. A wave of sadness surged through her.

“Mom, Dad, I want to go back home,” She whispered to herself.

Chills spread out through her entire body as the door she braced herself against suddenly flung open with a sharp clang. She regained her balance and turned around. The door’s handle laid on the floor completely broken. The darkness of the auditorium greeted her with a gust of musty, but warm, air. She took a step back only to have the freezing rain fall on the back of her neck. Sophie looked at the entrance with an uneasy face. After a few moments she hesitantly walked in.

The building was much larger than it appeared. A few work-lights left turned on lit the auditorium with sheets of inconsistent light. Door frames to rooms that were used for the construction’s storage lined the walkways. The long hallways on either side of Sophie curved out of view. In front of her sat two large doors. She pushed the heavy doors open and stepped inside. She found herself in the academy’s theater. Rows of weathered red fabric seats stepped down into the center stage. The stage’s walnut flooring was scuffed from years of use and subsequent neglect. Two large maroon curtains blocked the view to the backstage. A small podium sat at the front of it, its paint flaking off to the bare wood. She climbed onto the stage, its visage faintly lit by the work-lights that peered through the half opened doors.

Sophie stared at the seats in a silent awe. She imagined what the theater would look like if it were full of people and wondered why the academy refused to finish renovations. As she pondered, her gaze lowered to the podium. Her eyes narrowed. Faint scratches lined the bottom of it. She wiped a layer of dust off with her hand and revealed a string of faintly recognizable letters.

“Save me?” Sophie slowly read out loud.

“Heard.” A breathy and raspy voice that stretched out every syllable echoed through the theater. “You.”

The doors slammed shut, snuffing out the work-lights and leaving her in complete darkness.

“W-Who’s there?” Sophie stammered.

A bittersweet melody of hums snaked through the dark and into Sophie’s ears in reply.

“Show y-yourself,” Fear gripped at her heart, she clutched her school bag ready to swing it whatever was lurking in the darkness.

“Heard,” The voice repeated, this time more strained. “You.”

“T-This isn’t f-funny, please stop!” She said with a slight whimper.

“Save. You. You. Want. Me. To. Save...” The voice called from behind her causing her to jump in fear.

She swung her schoolbag wildly but it collided against nothing.

“Go. Somewhere. Safe. You. Want. To. Go. Somewhere. Safe. Somewhere. Home...” The voice grew louder.

“Stay away…” She said silently.

Her breaths grew frantic. An overwhelming dread welled in her gut. Panic coursed through her entire body.

“I. Can. Help.” The voice whispered.

A raspy strand of flesh wrapped around her feet before she could react. Her horrified scream was cut short as another strand that gagged her mouth shut. More and more threads wrapped around her body until she was stuck in an airtight cage. She shrieked in muffled terror as she was yanked behind the curtains. Lightning flashed illuminating the theater in a pang of white before decaying back into darkness. Silence followed. The night continued as normal as a stormy night could. Though a few freshmen swore that they heard strange noises coming from the old auditorium that night. Screams of struggles, pleads for help, and a blood curdling shriek to name a few. Of course nobody took it too seriously. It was just a rumor after all.

#oc #ow #writing #mystery #thriller #horror #anime inspired #female protagonist #heartfelt #cw bullying #First time using tumblr and writing online please be patient C:

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mlovesstories · 4 years ago

Text

His Thoughts on Therapy 3

Words: 2300ish I think.

Warnings: violence, mention of mom’s death, glass eye, cussing

Summary: Dean and YN recover in their own ways.

Masterlist of Masterlists

After Sam started screaming, realizing Dean was so hurt, YN was on the phone with 911, she looked down at the woman bleeding out on the ground.

“Mom?”

Before they knew what had happened, YN was pulled away from kicking and punching her mom by a police officer. Dean was taken away in an ambulance. YN reached for Sam and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly.

“She hurt Dee!” YN wailed into his shirt. Sam tried to hold back his own tears, but he knew he needed to drive to the hospital.

“I know. Let’s go.”

“She stabbed his EYE, Sam!”

“I know.” Sam took a deep breath.

“Sam.” Dean stirred and reached for him the next day.

His brother woke up from the chair next to the bed.

“What happened?”

“YN was sleeping in the guest room when she heard your screaming. She found someone beating you up.”

Dean confusedly tried to take in the information.

“Huh?”

“There is something you need to know,” Sam winced. “It was YN’s mom. She stabbed your eye. It’s gone, Dean.”

“Wait, what?” Dean reached up to touch his eye.

“Don’t, there is a bandage, and it’s healing.”

Dean gasped. He started crying.

“I know.” Sam ran a hand through his hair.

“What else?”

“She stabbed you in your gut, but they were able to stop the bleeding. Fiona, YN’s mom, beat you up pretty good too. Concussion, ribs. But YN killed her with your bedroom lamp…”

“She defended me against her own mom?” Dean tried to readjust in the bed but groaned when he felt all of the bandages. “Where is she?

“She felt really bad about how her mom treated you, so she’s hiding, as she stated in her text to me.”

“Call her for me.” Dean reached out to Sam for his phone.

Sam dialed the number, and YN picked up immediately.

“Sam? How is he?”

“Hey, Tissues,” Dean grinned.

“DEAN!” She smiled to herself. “I’ll be right there,” she was about to hang up when he stopped her.

“Wait. I heard you were hiding.”

“No…” she tried to cover it up.

“Promise me something. Go see Dr. Sky.”

“Dean,” she whined again.

“Go, or I will pummel you when I feel better. You know I will.”

She huffed.

“Try me.” Dean groaned. “And don’t dote over me. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m so sorry Dean. I didn’t know she was in town. She should have hurt me.” YN rambled.

“You have five seconds to shut up and hang up. Then you’re going to make an appointment with Sky. Got it?”

“Fine, Winchester.”

“I need to go to sleep now. Bye, T.” He hung up with her and closed his eyelids in frustration. “She blames herself.”

“You can sort that out later. Right now we have other issues.” Sam pointed to his injuries.

Over the next few days, Sam saw Dean become sad, angry, and frustrated. The older brother threw things, screamed and tried to attack the doctor. He was currently strapped down to the bed.

“Sammy, why?”

“Because you got hurt.”

“No, not this,” he looked to the tie downs. “I mean why did this happen?”

“I don’t know, Dean. I really don’t.”

“I need to talk with Sky”

“I called her. She made availability for you and YN later today over video chat.”

“Good, because they said I couldn’t get out of these things for a while.”

“You punched the staff, Dean.”

“I lost my eye, dammit!”

“Okay, okay,” Sam put a hand up. “You’re right. Look, they said if you were good they would let you go in an hour. Just wait it out.”

As the nurses were taking the straps off apprehensively, YN walked in with her laptop.

“Dean!” She gasped at his appearance.

“Tissues,” he whispered. “You got hurt too,” Dean realized.

“I’m fine, just a few scrapes.”

“Ahem,” Sam glared at her. “No lying.”

“Fine, I have a cracked rib, but I’m fine. We have an appointment with Dr. Sky in a few minutes. You ready?” She watched curiously as the staff finished with the straps.

“Yeah. Sam, help me sit up.”

Sam stood and felt Dean’s weight on his shoulders. He grunted, and Dean sat straighter. He pressed the button for his bed to be in a reclining position.

“Mr. Winchester,” a nurse caught his attention. “If you get physical again with our staff,” she started.

“Lady, I didn’t even realize what I was doing, okay? I just lost parts of my body, and I was involved with someone dying, so excuse me if I’m a little confused.”

“Dean, it’s okay.” YN stood between him and the nurse. “He has been through a lot in the last 24 hours, I’m sure you would do the same if you watched someone die as well as lose your eye. Mister Winchester will be on his best behavior, right?” YN narrowed her eyes at the eldest brother.

“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded, taking a deep breath.

“We have a therapy session, can you excuse me, please?”

YN opened the laptop and turned on the video chat. Sam excused himself for privacy.

“Hello, you two.” Dr. Sky smiled. “I’m so glad you two are okay.”

Dean and YN frowned.

“So, who wants to start?”

Knowing that there was a lot to unpack, she let them lead the conversation and work through what they felt were the important parts.

“How are you feeling about all that?”

“I’m honestly afraid. Dean will self-combust if he doesn’t put his effort into something after we get out of here. I think you’re going to need some major self-care, Dee.”

“No, I won’t. I just need to get out of this-“ he shot up out of bed and was about to attack YN for calling him out when he winced.

“I will tie you back down to this bed myself if I have to. You aren’t the only one who has had those!” She looked from the straps in the corner back to Dean.

“Sorry.”

“I think coping skills are in order.” Doctor Sky said gently. “Dean, work with the hospital staff and those around you to see what you can do to relax. Maybe use a favorite hobby or an object to calm you down.”

“What, like a stuffed animal,” he rolled his eyes.

“Dean!” YN gasped.

“Okay, you two. Work on finding some coping skills. You will need them. Call me if you need anything.”

YN sighed and shut the laptop. Dean leaned back against his bed.

“T,” he started.

“What, Dean?” YN exacerbated.

“Take the other bed over there. Sleep.”

“I’m okay.”

“YN…” he whined at her. “I know you have probably been up for hours. We went through a lot, just go.”

YN gave in and plopped herself down on the extra bed.

“Sleep.” Dean told her.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t mean to get you hurt…”

“Oh, don’t start that. You know it’s not your fault. Go to sleep.”

“Fine.”

“Will you stop rolling your eyes? I can see you with the eyes in the back of my head.”

The two slept while Sam went to the shop and check on things.

A few hours later, YN stirred.

She heard Dean roll over.

“So, when are you going to tell me why your mom tried to hurt me?” He chuckled but coughed.

“Dean…”

“Come on, I can take it. My life sucked sometimes too.”

“Did your mom beat your ass until it was black and blue? Did your dad leave you because your mom was a psychopath? Did she make your brother disappear and possibly kill him too?”

“Woah, woah. Hey, it’s okay.”

“She’s always been obsessed with stuff. She must’ve seen you as a threat. I don’t know how she found me.” YN sat up on the hospital bed. “I need to go to work. I’ve already taken too much time off.”

“You have sick days, you ass.” He rolled his eyes.

“I want to save those for emergencies.”

“We were both attacked… BY YOUR MOM, YN.”

“I know. Look, I gotta go-”

“I’m not letting Sam clock you in today. Lie down. In fact, come over here.” He readjusted. Grunting, she slowly stood and walked to face him.

“What, warden?”

“Come here,” he moved his arm so that she could sit on the edge of his bed. “Go see Sky,” he whispered as she sat down. “I can’t see you hurting. Please.”

“We saw her-“

“We did, but you will not decline. Promise me.”

“Dean.”

“Yeah, well, you just killed your mom to save me. Make an appointment or I will.”

“Fine.”

A week later, YN begrudgingly showed up to Doctor Sky’s office. Injuries still visible. She wore a hat and a scarf.

“Hi, YN,” the doctor looked her over.

“Hi.”

“How’s Dean?”

YN shrugged.

“He’s better.”

“How are you?”

“I’m okay. Been through hell.”

“You have.” Sky agreed.

YN sat quietly during their session only answering in short fragments.

Dean went home to recover. The medical team had to put in a glass eye since his eye could not be recovered. He spent a little time at the shop working on cars, but he was now making more of the office-type decisions. When he was at home, he sulked.

“I haven’t been buying you beer, and yet you have one in your hand…” Sam walked into the room and crashed next to his brother on the couch.

“Excuse me for dealing with my issues…”

“Give it,” Sam motioned.

“No.”

“You’re not dealing with it. You’re drinking.”

“Whatever, Sam.”

Sam knew Dean’s weaknesses, so he reached for it out of Dean’s like of sight.

“DAMMIT, SAM!”

“You don’t get to wallow. I will call YN and have her whip you into shape if I have to.”

“Yeah, right. Give it back.”

Sam dumped the drink down the sink.

“SAM!” Dean tried to stand but lost his balance and fell back on the couch.

“No, you don’t get to throw your life away.”

Sam pulled out his phone and called YN.

“He’s being an ass. Can you come over?”

Sam slammed his phone down on the counter and got a soda out of the fridge.

“Here. Drink this.”

Dean caught the can. He rolled his eyes.

“WHAT IN THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?” YN stomped into their house.

“Not you too…” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Getting drunk again?”

“Nah.”

“Right…Dean, I went to Sky’s office the other day. She said you haven’t attended in a bit.”

“So?”

“So, we’re having a session. Right now.” YN pulled out her laptop and opened it.

“No!” He tried to grab at it, but he twinged.

“Hi, Sky!” YN waved.

“Oh! Both of you today!” Doctor Sky smiled. Her face dropped when she saw Dean’s expression. “Dean, you okay?”

“I’m forcing him to talk to you because he is being a piece of shi-“

“Woah! No insults in my sessions.”

“Sorry,” YN sighed.

“It’s been brought to my attention that you’ve not been using your coping skills.” Doctor Sky stated. “You either, YN.”

“What?” They both exclaimed.

“Sam let me know that Dean has been drinking a lot more, and YN has been choosing to binge Netflix instead of going running and to the gym like we agreed.”

“I’m fine, doc. I’ve been doing yoga on my TV.”

“And you, Winchester?” Sky shifted her gaze to the man.

“This is stupid.” Dean shrugged.

“My job is to help you. How can I help you?” Sky asked without judgement.

“Doc…” Dean rolled his eyes.

“You’re the one paying me, I suppose.”

“I’ve been through the shit.”

“You would be correct.” The therapist nodded.

“I can’t just listen to music or work out, it’s not that easy!”

“Dean.” YN put a hand up. “I think we just need to stay in check.”

“You killed your mom, YN. You’ll have to stay in check. And Dean, you can’t turn to the old habits. You know that.”

“You know what, never mind,” Dean tried to move the laptop off of his lap and stand, but he once again could not handle his own weight.

“Your recovery is ultimately up to you, Winchester.” Sky stated evenly.

“Yeah, yeah.” He sighed. “You’re not my mom, Sky. Don’t try to be-”

“DEAN!” YN gasped.

“Dean.” Their therapist calmed her clients.

“I’m sorry, Sky. I didn’t mean it.”

“You’re angry. I get it. Use the anger for good. Have you been going back to the shop?”

“I’m useless, doc. My eye is gone, my leg is messed up.”

“So what are you gonna do about it?” Sky narrowed her eyes at him.

“No reverse psychology shit, doc. Come on.”

“It’s my job. Talk it out.”

“I could go back to the shop more. I guess I could be a floater.”

“I can help you round the shop, Dean.”

“No, it’s okay. I need to do this on my own.”

“Wait, Dean.”

Sky talked with the two about being graceful with each other and letting each other help in the shop. Dean agreed to YN guiding him back into his role at Winchester Auto. YN could tell that Dean was upset.

“Bye, Sky!” YN waved to the camera. She closed the laptop. “Talk to me.” YN turned to face Dean.

“Leave it alone, T.”

@akshi8278

Forever Friends (Everything):

@katymacsupernatural @unicornblood4ever @supernatural-crazed-girl

@fangirl-moment-x @empirialwolf @winchesters-favorite-girl @super100012

@percywinchester27 @waywardsuns @supernatural-jackles

@mcallmestiles @sdavid09 @kingandrear @bellero @skylarraker

@seality @jaycc7983 @luci-in-trenchcoats

@cherryblossomflowers @because-you-never-know-when

@sleepylunarwolf @choosemyname

@internationalmusicteacher @mersuperwholocked-lowlife

@encounterthepast @torn-and-frayed

@giggles1026 @xiumin-girl99

@mangueweaschester

@idksupernatural @silverstripe101a

@thevelvetseries @jennawinchester152a * @samsgirl93 @supernatural3002 *

* @breereadsthings *

@a-magey @vicmc624 @hookedinto-fictionalworlds @beatifuldisaster018

@miraclesoflove @myopiamystical @fallen-wolf22

@waywardnewcomer

@marvelouslysherlockedhunter @miss-nerd95

#supernatural #mlovesstorieshisthoughtsontherapy #mlovesstories #mlovesstoriesau #dean x reader!platonic #sam x reader!platonic

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love-pyramus · 4 years ago

Text

No One Can Win -Pt 1/2

Yeah this is- not happy-

Trigger Warnings: Death, drinking, blood, someone punching/knocking his head into a wall

WC: 2355

Tagging: @brooklyn-is-here @lxwkey-as-hell @trans-witch-cauldron @biana-vacker @sour-picklee @mushe-room @that-aint-news-no-more

(Luca, I’d say I’m sorry but I’m not gonna lie-)

If you like this please reblog I need validation-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Switch knew how he had gotten into this situation, he didn’t regret it. One of the younger boys had gotten into trouble with a bull, so he did what he could in the situation and punched the cop, though when he was forced into a cart and dragged to the refuge, a bit of regret started to fall in. “At least the kid is safe…” he mumbles, shivering as a chill ran up his spine. He let himself get tossed into the refuge, blocking out al the pain, trying to see if there was anything with blood coming from it. Upon finding nothing, he took a bunk closest to the door, making himself an easy target, knowing he was doing so, in order to protect the kids.

When Fennel heard that Switch was in the refuge, he immediately hurried there, despite the fact that almost every bone in his body was screaming at him to turn and run away. He climbed the fire escape, knocking on the window to the room. When a kid opened it, he opened his mouth, forcing back a quaver in his voice. “Did you get a new guy? Two different colored eyes?”

Fennel hated that that was all he had to use to identify Switch to these kids, but his heart rose a bit when he saw Switch, and to even more of his relief, saw no blood. “Hey Switch.”

Switch’s nerves were shot with every footstep he heard, and so seeing Fennel both helped calm his mind and caused it to race more. “Hey. What’re you doing here?” Fennel ignored his question, reaching through the bars to take Switch’s hand. Switch squeezed it, closing his eyes a bit and letting himself relax. “I had to come see you...you think I was gonna let you stay here?” Fennel gently ran his thumb over Switch’s bruising knuckles, and took a slight comfort in the way he was relaxing.

“I can’t leave. These kids Fen...they ain’t able to protect themselves..” Switch whispers, but Fennel sighs. “Yeah...I know..”

Switch takes the cap off his head, handing it to Fennel. “Here.” Fennel tried to deny, but Switch pushed it towards him. “Hold onto it for me. Ok?” Fennel nodded, and Switch turned to look at the door. “Go. They’re coming.” Fennel hated the way there was fear in his boyfriends eyes, but nodded, climbing down the fire escape. He took a deep breath as he left, slipping Switch’s hat onto his head, taking his own off.

Months passed, nearing the six month marker of Switch’s sentence. He had stopped coming to the window, stopped seeing anyone, the kids not even bothering to try to get him anymore. For good reason too. His head constantly had blood dripping from it, onto the collar of his brown jacket.

Fennel was at the window, begging the kids to get Switch, to at least try. After what seemed like an eternity, Switch came over, though without his jacket. There was blood staining his blonde hair, like someone had been attempting to dye it a rust color.

“Go away Fennel.” He said, and Fennel shook his head after looking at him. He had bruises all over, and a small river of blood dripping from his hairline. There was obviously more, the way the skin all around was stained red. “No! You can’t send everyone away-” “I can. I love you. Now go away.” Switch walked away, sitting on his bunk, far away from the window. “Sorry..” one of the kids mumbled before closing the window.

“I’m going to get him.” Riffs announcement was what Fennel was greeted with after explaining to her the way the interaction had gone down. Fennel was too desperate to argue, and promised he’d be waiting right outside.

Switch didn’t fight as he was dragged out of the dingy room, forcing his entire body to remain still despite the nerves and guilt he was feeling. He bit his lip as the wardens began beating him, taking advantage of his bare arms to rough him up. The only thing that got a noise from him was the wardens smashing his head into a wall, a cry of pain coming from him as he heard a crack. That didn’t stop the wardens, only seeming to encourage them. He was kicked, punched, and shoved. The final blow was a glass bottle shattering over his head, his surroundings went blurry, and he closed his eyes.

The kids in the refuge let out quiet cries as Switch’s limp body was dragged back into the room, blood dripping from multiple spots, staining his shirt. He was breathing, though it was very faint. As a new kid was tossed in, they all went quiet as she ran to Switch’s side.

“Switch! Switch Eye, come on, wake up, you gotta get up for me.” Riffs begs seemed almost useless, but Switch slowly opened his eye, showing the blue, the brown one too cut and swollen to open. “Yeah, yeah, there you go, it’s me, it’s Riff, come on, we’ve gotta get you out..” There was a clouded haze in his eyes, and he just nodded. Switch let her help him to stand, and he was leaning against the wall. He didn’t know where he was, but he knew Riff. And if Riff was there… “Where’s Fennel?”

His words were slurred, and his legs were shaking. “He’s just outside. He’s waiting outside. I’ll take you to him. We’ll go see him.” Switch nodded before speaking again.

“Fennel...gonna see Fennel…”

With those words, his legs collapsed under him, causing him to fall to the ground. His head his the ground, a sickening crack coming from the still boy. Riff immediately kneeled next to him, moving her hand to his neck, searching desperately for a pulse that wasn’t there. Tears began to fall down her face as she couldn’t find one, and she slowly stood up, picking the lock to the window bars and opening them, climbing out without Switch.

“How am I gonna tell Fennel...how do I tell him, oh my god-”

When Riff came out of the refuge with no sign of Switch nearby, his heart fell. “Riff. Riff, where’s Switch?” THe soft sob the Riff let out broke Fennels heart, though nothing could have prepared him for the words she muttered.

“He’s dead.”

“No. No. Nonono. I just talked to him, just yesterday! He can’t be-” He cut himself off as a sob rose. He took Riffs hand and began walking towards Queens again, trying to hold in his sobs.

He entered the lodge silently, moving to a room to the side before yelling and punching the wall. He screamed and cried, hitting the wall over and over. He needed something to numb it, something to stop the pain. He knew there was a box of money the two had been saving under what had been Switch’s bed. He couldn’t use that, that was the money him and Switch were saving to go to Russia. Not that it mattered anymore.

The vendor was happy to give the bottles to Fennel as he gave the money over, and he took them, making his way back to the Queens lodge, sitting in the room and opening one. The alcohol burned his throat as it went down, but as he drank more, his mind and feelings started to numb.

Quickly though, an anger overtook him, anger at himself for letting Switch go, anger at Switch for not escaping, anger at Riff for not getting him out. He reached for the cap, squeezing it tight, and twisting it in his hands. There was a scratching at the door, and Fennel knew who it was. He slowly opened the door, letting the large golden retriever in. Puka came in, pawing at the sobbing boy on the ground.

“Get off me dog.” Fennel hissed, and Puka stepped away, giving Fennel the opportunity to punch his hand into the wall. Over, and over, and over again. He ignored the dog running around at his feet until he was knocked and pinned down by her.

He began struggling under the dog, but she was heavy, refusing to let the boy up. Eventually he stopped trying, letting himself drift into an uneasy sleep.

When he woke up, he was faced with the reality once again. There was nothing to help numb the pain of the loss, all he had was the dog licking his face and the cap in his hand. There was an empty bottle next to him, and his hand was throbbing, ripped from the punches to the wall.

“His jacket-” He had noticed Riff entering the room. “Where’s his jacket?”

“He didn’t have it on him..” Riff exited the room at the sob Fennel let out, Puka following. Riff heard the clinking of glass behind her, Fennel taking another bottle. She made her way to the refuge, quietly knocking on the window.

“Guys. Is there a brown jacket there? Left by-by the boy who died?” Riffs voice quavered as she spoke, and she tried not to let out a sob as she was handed it. She took it and held it close to her chest as she slowly made her way back to Queens. The walk seemed longer than ever before, and she was clutching the jacket tight. She knew there was a very small chance that anyone would try and take it from her, but she still wasn’t willing to risk it.

As she opened the door to the queens lodge, it seemed like everyone had moved on from the news they had received yesterday. The only reminder of the boy who had once been there was the sad retriever on his bed, and the loud sobs of his boyfriend coming from another room. She slowly made her way in, holding the jacket, Puka following her once again, smelling Switch on the jacket.

She opened the door, half of the bottles gone from what Fennel had bought. He was sobbing and hitting the back of his head into a wall, Puka running and pushing him away from the wall, making him sit in the center of the room. Fennel looked up, letting out a sob when he saw the jacket in Riffs arm.

“Please-” he begged, his eyes wide. Riff handed it over to him, and Puka began sniffing at the jacket, whining. Fennel hugged the jacket closer to him, letting out a sob at the feel of the familiar fabric.

The same one he’d felt when he hugged him after a day of selling. The same one he felt when he had a bad day and Switch couldn’t stay with him, and had to go sell. It was Switch’s, it was the one thing he’d had from his dad.

He cradled the jacket close, sobbing hysterically. Puka laid her head on his lap and Fennel put a hand on it. He cried himself out, wishing that it would all just go numb.

Fennel downed the last bottle, letting out a sob. In his buzzed state he knew he’d have to face the emotions full force again. He’d avoided it for two weeks, he wasn’t ready for that, he wouldn’t be able to do that. The room was dark, and sitting next to him was the jacket. The collar was stiff with dried blood, him being hardly able to look at it. Instead, he took to rummaging through the pockets. There was a ripping from a newspaper Switch must have found interesting. Fennel recognized the headline, it was from the day he was taken in. There were a few crushed flower petals as well. With their age it was hard to tell what the original color had been.

Fennel moved to the other pocket. There were multiple folded papers in it, and he moved to read them. One was the page that covered his mothers disappearance, and it had a photo of her there. No wonder Switch kept it. He unfolded the other paper, going to read the headline, but it was in Russian.The photo on the paper though, that gave away what it was. The paper was old, at least four years at this point. It was a black and white photo of a man laying in a puddle of blood, his eye the center of it.

When Fennel hugged the jacket close, he noticed a faint figure sitting across from him. If he wasn’t looking around like he was he doubts he would have seen it. The figure flickered, turning to one covered in blood and injuries before back to the boy it had been. A gasp came from Fennel, who looked over the translucent figure.

He had the same face, same soft smile, same scar through the corner of his left eye. There was no color to the figure, and Fennel could see the wall behind the apparition through it.

“No. No, you’re- go!” He yells, his voice breaking and slurred. The smile fell from the ghosts face, forming to a look of concern. He slowly got up, and Fennel kicked at the ghost, but his foot went through the apparition. “Go away!”

“Fennel. Fennel, please...Fen, please.”

The voice the figure spoke with was Switch’s, the concern in the eyes was one that could have only been shown in Switch’s, the scar, the face. It was all Switch. But when Fennel focused on the figure, he could see the blurry outlines of the injuries sustained. They were well hidden, but undeniably part of Switch.

“Please-” Fennels voice was desperate, staring at the ghost. Switch sat beside him, and Fennel longed for the contact of Switch, for the warmth he used to have. But when he reached to touch him, his hand want through, and the spot was cold, colder than anything Fennel had ever felt. He let out a sob, and felt a cold spot on his face, like the ghost was trying to wipe his tears.

“Say something. Please.”

Switch’s ghost opened his mouth to speak, and Fennel let out a sob at the words.

“Hey kolibri.”

#Switch Eye #Fennel #Newsies OC #Switch x Fennel #death tw #blood tw #drinking tw #alchohol tw

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shnuggletea · 4 years ago

Photo

Hey there! How are you doing? I hope you're well and good, prospering and safe. Here's another chapter for your Sunday when you get a minute. Anyone waiting for the epilogue to STYH please be patient. My keyboard still isn't working (currently typing with the on-screen keyboard). And, tbh, I'm super invested in my originals right now. Very excited about one actually and I can't wait to get it done (working on the edits suggested to me by a publisher). Which you can imagine how difficult without a keyboard. Luckily, it's mostly changes that are easy, no long blocks of writing as its done just needs fixing. STYH needs to be written entirely, a difficult task without a keyboard.

Anyway, thanks for all your support. The Inuyasha fandom is the best fandom as far as taking care of its members. Other fandoms need to use this one as an example.

Wanna catch up or stay in the know? You can find and follow/fave the fic by heading over to my page on ff HERE or AO3 HERE.

For the chapter links; Fanfiction HERE and AO3 HERE.

Chapter Seven

Things were running smoothly. She spent all her evenings in the infirmary, treating everything from yeast infections to jammed fingers. How long the demons in this place had simply suffered with the longer healing process from the runes, she didn't know. But the yeast infection had sighed in relief when she gave them the ointment and they applied it heavily. They weren't allowed to leave with the tube, so a return visit was imminent.

When she walked the rows to her seat with Miroku and Shippo, Inuyasha sometimes gracing them with his presence, the odd demon gave her a nod of respect. A month later and she was no longer called White. They called her Doctor.

"What's up Doc!"

Lopsided grin, she stepped up to sit next to Kagura in the warm sun. "Jakotsu, why do you talk like an old cartoon all the time?"

"Wha? Bugs Bunny is the shit and when else am I going to use it?"

He flipped a long dark lock over his shoulder as he spoke for some kind of emphasis. She was giggling at him but no one else did, they were all on edge and she didn't know why. Until the entire yard got quiet.

The guards were still taking off chains, standing in her view, but she would have known who it was regardless. She recognized the blood-red aura.

Kagura was already on her feet, standing on top of the picnic table and jumping slightly. Everyone was still quiet but Kagura's squeal would have been heard over the noise as she leapt into the air and then onto the stoic demon.

The Dog demon was loose.

His black scrubs stood out painfully against his pale coloring. Everyone kept their distance, save for Kagura, swinging herself around his neck and planting very affectionate kisses all over his face and neck. Now red lipstick stained his otherwise flawless porcelain skin. Planning on depositing the woman, the two made their way closer to the group.

Out of nowhere, Miroku appeared at the side of the table. "Kagome. A word please?"

She had just gotten to her feet when Kagura stopped her, wrapping an arm around her neck and pulling her down the rest of the way into a hug. "Kagome, meet my man. Sesshomaru!"

"We've met."

His eyes were just as cool as they had been in the dungeon. "Yeah. The Warden had me…"

"Pay us a visit. The Doctor is why I'm getting some extra time out of isolation."

"Really?!" Kagura screeched, squeezing Kagome's neck tighter. "You're the BEST Kagome!"

As soon as Kagura's hold lessened, Kagome was pulled back a bit harshly. Miroku really wanted to talk to her it seemed. But he was focused on the Dog demon. "If you're out then does that mean…."

"Sadly, yes. Right behind me."

"Great. Kagome, let's go."

"Go where? We're all stuck here!" Jakostu cried.

Even Kanna looked a little uneasy. The old teenager just looked pleased and smirked eerily.

Before he stepped out into sight, she felt him. The wicked strands of hate that burrowed inside him she would never forget. Naraku was getting released too.

"Remember, Doctor, what we said about fear." Sesshomaru warned.

Taking a deep breath, Kagome got herself under control. What could he do to her here anyway? It's not like he would even have the slightest interest in her, she was just a White. Regardless, Kagome found herself searching the yard for Inuyasha. He was on the other side of them, looking towards the door. Even he wasn't concerned with her, she was fine.

Fur tickled her hand and she jumped, looking down and finding the Kitsune. "Shippo?"

He was shivering, holding tight to her leg. "I'm scared, Kagome."

In a flash, she picked up the young demon and held him in her arms tight. If he was offended by her babying him, he said nothing and only snuggled in deeper to her. "Don't be afraid, Shippo. I'll protect you."

The chains rattled ominously in the terrible silence. Everyone was watching the show.

The light felt as if it was sucked away as Naraku stood, patiently letting the guards remove his cuffs. His eyes looked over the yard, a smirk on his face that turned upwards even more at the sight of Kagome. Even with his lips curled upwards, it didn't give the same impression as when anyone else smiled. No, Naraku being happy was not a good thing at all.

Miroku's hold on her arm tightened when Naraku set out towards them. If anyone was in the way, they quickly jumped out of it, giving Narkau a clear path to all of her friends. Who, whether conscious or not, slowly circled around her. Kanna got to her feet and stood next to Kagura, grabbing her sleeve tightly. The Teenage-Wonder remained where she was and watched while Jakotsu moved to Kagome's back.

Kagura and Sesshomaru didn't move, standing right between her and Naraku. "Sesshomaru, long time no see."

Sesshomaru didn't laugh, not that Kagome expected him to even if it was a good joke.

If Kagome were to guess, she would say the black scrubs marked the most dangerous. But with Sesshomaru vastly different in aura's and intentions from Naraku, she had to wonder if it meant something else entirely?

Leaning to the side, Naraku looked around the couple and to Miroku. "Still trying to keep the peace, Monk?"

"Nope. This one's mine." Miroku answered, wrapping his arm around her waist.

She hoped she didn't offend Miroku when she responded with a gasp of shock and discomfort. He didn't lessen his hold so if she did offend, he didn't care. "The Doctor doesn't seem to share your interests?"

"Why do you care?"

Naraku turned back to glare at Kagura. "Bitches should know their place."

Sesshomaru shoved Naraku back, the first time showing some emotions since she'd seen his face. His red eyes were glowing as were the purple streaks on his face. Demons like Sesshomaru never had a chance to escape when the laws changed.

"Watch what you say, Naraku." Sesshomaru warned.

Shippo shivered against her neck and she carefully petted him. With all these people surrounding her, Kagome's only fear was that someone would get hurt for her.

"And here I had been looking forward to a decent conversation with the Doctor. But every time we meet, there's meat bags in my way."

Taking advantage, Naraku slugged Sesshomaru, who clearly wasn't expecting the attack, sending him flying a short distance away. He backhanded Kagura who fell on top of the Dog demon. Miroku spun her backward, putting himself in front of her. In a move that was sure to get her in trouble to deal with later, Kagome tossed Shippo into Kanna, knocking both children down in a less violent manner than Naraku promised.

Now unburdened by innocence, she grabbed onto Miroku's back, holding onto his shoulders in hopes of keeping him back from the swirling black mass of hate.

"Out of my way, Monk."

"Fuck you."

A fist to his gut and Miroku stumbled. He remained standing, to Naraku's displeasure. A quick glance at the guards left her less than shocked that they stood watching, doing nothing.

Her fingers were starting to match Miroku's scrubs she held the material so tight. Weaken from the hit, she used her hold to toss Miroku away, getting him out of the way. Naraku didn't miss a beat, getting right in her face. He had her collar in his hold and ran a claw down her cheek.

"Hello, Doctor."

"Naraku."

"I was just thinking, blood for blood? What do you think? Then we could call it even?"

She kept control of her body, keeping herself from shivering. "You want my blood? Why?"

"Same reason the Warden wants mine. Power."

Ripped off her, Kagome stumbled a little when Naraku was knocked back by a body colliding with his. She was in shock, finding Maten crouching before her with his brother at his side. "Don't touch the Doctor!"

The laugh that billowed out of Naraku had her struggling to contain herself. "Come now, boys. I only wanted to thank the Doctor. After all, if it wasn't for her kind words, I'd still be in lock up. Now I get to come out and play with all of you!"

A few words and sounds of concern were passed around the yard and Kagome watched as the nods of respect she once got now turned to glowers. How quickly the tides changed.

"They wouldn't allow demon killers like the two of you lose. This is a fluke!" Maten shouted with only a small shiver of fear.

She didn't understand. A demon-killing demon? It didn't make sense, why would a demon kill their own kind? Especially with the bans and restrictions on them as a race, it would be like shooting fish in a barrel with the fish the ones doing the shooting.

All of this didn't really matter right now, her attention pulled back to the couple. Sesshomaru was cradling Kagura in a manner she'd seen many times before. It had her wondering about the two… before her distracted attention cost her.

Maten was in Naraku's claws.

"None of you seem to mind when the Dog demon comes out to play. Now that it's my turn you're all going to give me shit?"

To prove everyone's point, Naraku tossed Maten right into his brother. She had just healed and helped the two of them only to get broken again so quickly. Naraku was stepping up to her, unimpeded again, and Miroku groaned on the ground near her. He was still rallying from Naraku's blow. How powerful was this guy when the runes weren't oppressing him to nothing?

Miroku's words were ringing in her ears about not revealing herself but with everyone still at risk, she was dangerously close to going farther than she ever had before with her gifts when her vision was filled with white. The snarl that came from Inuyasha was feral, more like an animal than any other sound he had made thus far.

Naraku laughed loudly and viciously. "I wondered when you'd show your ugly face, Inuyasha."

She had stepped up to grab the back of Inuyasha's scrubs but he pushed her back hard. "You're always a fucking problem, Naraku. I'm starting to get tired of your little tantrums."

"I just want a little blood from the Doctor here. Maybe you can coax it out of her for me?"

"What the hell does that mean?"

Naraku was on top of Inuyasha and neither was backing down. "It means I heard you purring to her from your cell the other day. And I smell her on your skin."

"She is my damn cellmate, I have no choice…"

"Don't insult my intelligence…"

Inuyasha huffed in Naraku's face. "You? Intelligent? The guy that got thrown in here thanks to a six-year-old?"

For some reason, that sent Naraku into a rage and close to ripping Inuyasha's throat out. The hanyou didn't even flinch while she was trying to breathe. Naraku's darkness was overwhelming and her body screamed for action like never before. She knew all that her gifts could do and had been taught to never use them like that. It had never been too hard, until right now and she felt like she might pop. All she could do was hold it back and fight against natural instinct, praying she wasn't 'showing'.

But Inuyasha caught on, glancing over his shoulder and paling at the sight of her. "Go ahead, Naraku, hit me. This is already your last time outside your cell."

Inuyasha was right, the guards were already moving into place, small guns in their hands that she wondered what they did. If this had been a test then Naraku had clearly failed. Sesshomaru was still sitting on his hands, playing the game as the Warden wanted him to. Naraku was going to go back to hell and Sesshomaru was going to stay.

Naraku made one last attempt, lunging for Kagome and ignoring the rest. Which was why Inuyasha got his fist to connect with his neck. Coughing and sputtering, Naraku fell back and glared at the two of them. But then fell to his knees so the guards could chain him back up and sneered at Kagome. It was all so surreal and confusing as hell. Here was the most powerful and dangerous creature she'd ever seen and he allowed himself to be chained up so easily? What was in those guns? And what the hell were the guards?

Naraku was gone and everyone still kept their distance. The monster from the basement wasn't the only one these demons were afraid of.

Just like before, Inuyasha turned and showed her blood-colored eyes. This time she took notice of the purple streaks under his eyes. And how he looked just like Sesshomaru. Sesshomaru who was sitting next to Kagura on the picnic table now. They looked like polar opposites, Sesshomaru stoic and clam while Kagura was loud and affectionate. It was cute.

Inuyasha was not cute right now, looming over her and growling.

"Next time, I'm going to let Naraku bleed you dry!"

He turned from her and her blood boiled with her rage, pulling off her shoe and throwing it. It hit him in the back of the head and a few brave souls laughed. Inuyasha wasn't laughing, slowly turning back to her with his eyes still red. "No one ASKED FOR YOUR HELP!"

On top of her in a blink, Kagome struggled to breathe with his sudden nearness. His scent permeated her very essences as there was no escaping it as his angry hot puffs of breath wafted against her cheeks. "You wanna run that by me again, White?"

"Look around, Inuyasha. Not a single person here asked for you to step in. If it's such a HUGE inconvenience then next time, save yourself the trouble and let me get torn apart! Then you can have your stupid cell and bed to yourself again!"

There were a few snickers and groans, reminding her of a fight in the halls back in school. Inuyasha smiled, but it only made her heart drop into her belly as it was the coldest smile she'd ever seen in her life. "That does sound nice. I can do as I please in peace again. But," he reached down, pulling Miroku to his feet, "I'd rather this piece of shit remain whole. I might need him someday. I couldn't give a shit about you, White."

"Are you kidding me? Miroku was out of danger! He didn't need your help either! You just wanted to show off, to show that you could 'take him' like you said in the basement." She was already walking away, going around Inuyasha and Miroku as he was held up by Inuyasha. "You don't need to worry Mate, I heard you, loud and clear. I know you don't give a shit about me and I could care less!"

She shouted the rest over her shoulder, retreating to the dark halls inside. With so many injured, she needed to be at the infirmary anyway and the guards didn't question or try to stop her. She just really hoped it was far enough away from the yard to keep them from hearing her angry sobs of pain and frustration.

oOo

It made her feel so guilty, the infirmary full thanks to her, and yet she was thankful for the distraction.

Shippo and Kanna sat on a bed near her, watching her work while she checked over Maten and Hilten for any bones to reset before they healed back. She really didn't want to have to re-break any bones here. Shippo had a scraped knee and Kanna a bruised cheek but was fine otherwise. She was keeping an eye out for Kagura to appear. No way she would go for long without stopping by and there was no way to know how long Kagura had been without a doctor already.

"Alright, you two are good to go."

Hilten hopped to his feet, dragging his brother along behind. "Thank you, Kagome."

She tried to not worry too much about Maten's obvious infatuation with her, hoping it would pass soon. Who had time for things like love in here?

There was a commotion out in the hallway and Shippo tensed. "Why don't you two head back outside?"

She cooed at the two of them, gently pressing them towards the door and following them out to make sure it was safe. Her eyes felt like rolling out of her skull at the sight of Inuyasha dragging Miroku towards the infirmary.

"I'm fine...Inuyasha…"

"You can barely breathe idiot!"

The guards were itching to jump in on the two for whatever they could. At least that's how it felt to Kagome, pushing the children on and out of the way to step between the fussy couple and the edgy guards.

"You got hit pretty hard, Miroku. I should take a look."

Miroku's smile was pained, "Whatever you say, Doctor."

Inuyasha sighed loudly but followed alone behind the two of them. The guards didn't let Inuyasha past the doorway but he didn't fight them, just watched from there. It made it faster, without an x-ray, to find the problem since she was right there for the fight. Pressing right where Naraku's fist planted in Miroku's stomach, he still groaned with her gentle touch.

Using the ancient stethoscope, she listened to his lungs for a few seconds. "Well, I'm pretty sure you've got a broken rib. Which is why you're struggling to breathe."

"Pretty sure?" Inuyasha asked in his irritated tone from the door.

She ignored him and focused on her patient. "I'll give you some pain meds to help you breathe. Just make sure you don't restrict your breaths, you could get pneumonia."

"Whatever you say, Doc."

Glancing back, she eyed Inuyasha and matched his frown with her own. "Are you injured?"

He huffed. "You were there."

"Then you don't need to be here!"

Mostly, she just didn't want to feel his eyes on her right now. His aura was being weird, tinged red around the edges of his gold. It was beautiful and she hated admitting it. So she really didn't want him here at all.

The guards pushed him back and after a scoff, he walked away. Miroku chuckled a little, in part to his ribs but also so not to be heard. "You shouldn't be so hard on him. He's trying he just lacks...tact."

"He lacks a lot more than that."

Bottle of pills in hands, Miroku stopped her angry shaking with a gentle touch. "Kagome… do we have a patient and doctor privilege?"

"Do you mean, can I keep a secret?" She asked, placing pills in his hand and trying to soften her annoyance.

"More than that. I need to know that you'll NEVER tell Inuyasha I told you this." Her and Inuyasha didn't really talk so it didn't seem like it would be a problem, nodding her head in silence to give him the go-ahead. "Inuyasha asked me to keep an eye out for you. He's the reason I went over there to get you when Naraku was coming."

"Wait, what?!"

Miroku held up a hand to quiet her, not wanting even the guards to hear him say this for some reason. "Don't get me wrong, you're very cute and sweet. I would have helped you anyway. But I like ruffling Inuyasha's feathers and it's so cute how irritated he gets when I hesitate." Miroku laughed while she was in stunned confusion. "Oh, I love making him beg."

Miroku was wiping tears from his eyes while she felt like her head would explode. "Why would he send you? I'm… I'm so confused right now."

She gripped her head as if it would help and Miroku frowned. "Come now, Kagome. The problem is you have the wrong idea about Inuyasha entirely. Not that anyone would blame you. On the surface, he's been a complete asshole to you…"

"Exactly. A full-on, righteous, self-absorbed asshole…"

"Which is exactly what he wants you to think. Even if it bothers him. Not that he would admit it. To anyone."

"I still don't understand."

Miroku sighed and patted her arm. "Remember when you were attacked? Hmmm? Thunder Brothers went after you for no reason?"

"They wanted to leave my body on the bed for… Inuyasha to find… but I told them he wouldn't care…" Miroku was silent, letting her put it together. "But he would have cared? He didn't even know me then."

"Doesn't matter. Because everyone in here hates him."

"Why? I mean, he's no picnic.."

Miroku glanced behind her to the guards. She glanced too, finding them completely disinterested. "They hate Inuyasha because he's the one that got Naraku locked up here."

And that’s what black means! See you next weekend!

#inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha fandom #inuyasha x kagome #inukag #prison AU #naraku's the bad guy #naraku shows up #again #doctor's in the house #learn a new color meaning #faulkner writing

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snarkybluechristian · 4 years ago

Text

Hazbin Hotel: Yandere Alastor x Vaggie Chapter 49

The group made their way up the stairs and walked through the hallways until they reached Cherri’s room.

“Here, we are,” Doctor Red said with a smile as he opened the door.

To Cherri and Angel’s surprise, the room was fully furnished with a proper bed. The bed was a king-sized bed with white blankets and dark wood paneling with matching bedside tables with lamps and an alarm clock on one side. The bookshelf with books and the vanity on the right side of the room and the wardrobe on the left side of the room next to the bathroom and the floor were made up of the same wood. The wood and technicolor books were the only thing bringing color to the room and its white walls beside the light coming in from the windows of course.

“Surprise!” Doctor Red exclaimed cheerfully.

Cherri blinked in surprise and muttered, “Um…wow…You got this together quickly.”

“I hope you two like it,” Arackniss replied coldly. “The maid cleaned the floor and the bathroom while we were downstairs. Then when we came upstairs, we moved all the new furniture and everything else in. It would have taken longer if it weren’t for the doctor’s muscles.”

“I appreciate it, fellas,” Angel said kindly. “This room is very spacious and nice.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Doctor Red said, gently placing his hands on Angel and Cherri’s backs and pushing them into the room. “You two can spend private time together in here.”

“Sure thing, doc man,” Cherri said as she and Angel entered the room.

“Have fun in there,” Arackniss said dryly. “We’ll see ya later for lunch.”

“We’re going to talk to your father about your progress,” Doctor Red proclaimed happily. “He said earlier that if you are good he’ll let you and your lady friend walk in the garden, Anthony.”

Angel paused in surprise for a moment.

Then Angel shyly smiled and said, “That would be pretty swell, doctor.”

“Good,” Doctor Red said cheerfully shutting the door and locking it. “If you need anything before lunch, just holler and let us know. See you later, Anthony and Cherri!”

Then without another word, the good doctor left with Arackniss once again following on his heels.

“I’m so sick of being locked up, Angie,” Cherri said as soon as the two had walked away.

Angel didn’t respond but looked around at the corners of the ceiling.

“Angie?” Cherri asked in confusion. “What are you…?”

Angel turned to Cherri and placed a finger on his lips before he got on his knees to look under the bed.

Cherri quickly caught on to what he was doing and searched the room with Angel to check for any listening devices or video cameras.

To their mutual astonishment, there were no video cameras or listening devices anywhere in the bedroom or bathroom.

Angel sighed in relief, fell backwards onto the bed, and said, “I’m sick of being locked in rooms, too. I’ve been locked in rooms for over a fucking week.”

“That sucks,” Cherri said, lying down next to him on the bed.

“Tell me about it,” Angel said, annoyedly taking off his gray shirt and tossing it on the floor. “I’m sick of locked rooms, restraints, punishments, and this goddamn uniform.”

“At least, the accommodations are nicer,” Cherri said, sitting up on the bed and suddenly perking up as she noticed the wardrobe by the corner of the wall. “Hey, did they get me new clothes?”

Angel sat up and leaned lazily on the bottom board at the foot of the bed.

“I wouldn’t put it past them,” Angel said. “Let’s see what they got ya.”

Cherri hopped off the bed, ambled over to the wardrobe, and opened the doors.

“Woah,” Cherri said with a chuckle.

“What did they get ya?” Angel asked, getting up off the bed and making his way to the wardrobe.

The wardrobe was stuffed with dresses and other outfits that were fitted to her thin and nimble frame.

“I’ll be damned,” Angel said, picking out a blue dress and looking it over. “They really went all out for ya. These dresses are all in your size, too.”

“How do ya think they managed that?” Cherri asked. “Oh, God. Do you think they measured me in my sleep?”

“I wouldn’t put it past them,” Angel said with a sigh.

Cherri visibly shuddered in disgust.

Angel smiled warmly, put a hand on her shoulder, and said, “Don’t worry about it, babe. I won’t let them touch ya again. Okay?”

“Okay,” Cherri replied. “But I’m blowing up these bastards as soon as I get the chance.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Now, you wanna try on these dresses with me?” Angel asked with a toothy grin. “There’s ain’t much else to do.”

Cherri chuckled out loud and said, “Sure, Angie.”

Angel posed dramatically in the middle of the room and said, “Let’s get to it. I’ll take all the dresses you don’t like.”

Cherri snorted and laughed heartily as she took the dress Angel was holding and began to undress.

“Are you sure about that, Angie?” Cherri teased. “I don’t think the good doctor would like to see you all dressed up in such immodest and effeminate clothing.”

“He’d have to catch me in the dress first,” Angel retorted. “They don’t have any cameras to catch me.”

“Alright, Angie,” Cherri said, tossing an older looking dress towards Angel.

“Oh, baby,” Angel exclaimed as he looked at the black and white dress plaid dress in front of him. “This one is from my time. They really dug deep to find this one.”

“How generous of them,” Cherri said sarcastically, pulling the blue dress over her body and looking into a mirror on the wardrobe door. “Hey, this one doesn’t look bad. What do you think, Angie?”

Angel had pulled off his loafers and slacks so that he was in his boxers and pulled the dress over his thin body.

Angel looked over to Cherri, whistled, and said, “You look hot, babe. That is good luck for ya. What do ya think of mine?”

Cherri snorted and said, “You look like my mother. That thing is ancient.”

Angel and Cherri laughed together and continued trying on more dresses.

Before long, several hours had passed with them laughing and trying on dresses to keep themselves entertained. They almost forgot where they were until they heard a familiar voice knocking at their door.

“Hello?” Doctor Red called out from the other side of the door. “I’ve come by to bring you lunch and check on your progress.”

Angel and Cherri looked at each other fearfully. Cherri was wearing a dress. So was Angel.

“Shit,” Cherri whispered as they both heard Doctor Red fiddling with the door’s lock.

Without a moment to spare, Angel threw off his dress, grabbed Cherri’s wrist, dashed to the bed, pulled her on top of him, and whispered, “Play it off.”

“Okay,” Cherri whispered back.

Doctor Red opened the door widely, pushed a cart of sandwiches and water bottles in front of him into the room, and looked up to see Angel laying on the bed with Cherri on top of his chest.

“Oh, my…” Doctor Red said in a surprise.

Angel looked back at Doctor Red, looked at Cherri, gasped in surprise, and started in a pretend fluster, “I…uh…I mean, uh, we…”

“We weren’t expecting you, doc,” Cherri said.

“Oh, my apologies!” Doctor Red said apologetically backing away towards the door. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you!”

Angel snatched a blanket at the end of the bed, threw it over himself and Cherri, and said shyly, “We were just messing around, doctor! Nothing major!”

“Don’t worry about it, Anthony!” Doctor Red said exiting the room and slowly shutting the door. “I won’t interrupt you two again until dinner! Enjoy your lunch!”

Doctor Red quickly shut and locked the door. Angel and Cherri heard him rushing down the hall to tell everyone what he saw.

Once they were sure he was gone, the pair breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Cherri sat up in the orange dress she was wearing and wrapped the blanket around her body as she crawled across the bed to reach the cart of food on the other side.

“That was too close, Angie,” Cherri said as she hopped off the bed and reached the cart of food.

“I’ll say,” Angel said, crawling over to the other side of the bed to join Cherri. “He caught us off guard. We can’t let that happen again.”

“Agreed,” Cherri said, scooting over to make room for Angel. “You’d think we’d have heard footsteps or something. I mean, he’s literally made of stone.”

“We must have been too caught up in trying on dresses,” Angel said as he sat down next to Cherri and grabbed his sandwich. “We forgot to keep an ear out.”

“Yeah,” Cherri said, grabbing her sandwich and following suit. “I hate being a prisoner, Angie.”

“Tell me about it,” Angel said, eyeing his sandwich. “At least these wardens feed us. Alastor starved me out and only gave me smoothies.”

“That sucks,” Cherri replied before biting into her sandwich.

“Yeah,” Angel replied as a shudder went through his spine. “I don’t even want to think about what Alastor’s putting Vaggie through right now or about what Lucifer’s putting Charlie through.”

Cherri put a hand on Angel’s shoulder and said, “Hey, Angie. Don’t worry. We’ll get outta here to save your gal pals soon.”

“I know,” Angel said with a sigh. “I just wish we could bust out sooner.”

“Well, we’re gonna get a chance to walk in the garden tonight, right?” Cherri said, gesturing with her sandwich for emphasis. “We just have to wait for the doctor and your family to let us take our private little romantic stroll and hop the fence as soon as their backs are turned. Easy peasy.”

“I doubt it’ll be that easy, Cher,” Angel said, taking another bite of his sandwich.

“Sure, it’ll be, especially with my bombs to fight them back!” Cherri exclaimed confidently as ever.

Angel swallowed his bite and said, “That’s just it, Cherri. They’re going to expect us to do something like that, and they have all day to prepare for it. My Dad and my brother are probably setting up something right now to make sure we can’t escape in case we try to make a break for it.”

“You and I can deal with that easily,” Cherri quipped.

“No, we won’t,” Angel said sternly. “My Dad and brother ain’t morons like Sir Pentious. Back in my day in New York City, they were revered among the men of my tradition as being some of the toughest, ruthless, and most cunning there was. Made men of La Cosa Nostra never dared to cross each other, but they took extra care to never cross my Dad and brother. The pair of them were known as the spiders of New York because they could weave such intricate and clever traps that no one who defied them ever knew they were trapped until it was too late.”

Cherri’s face fell suddenly and sharply as she saw the fear overtake Angel’s face and cause him to shiver right where he sat.

“Angel…” Cherri said letting her sandwich rest on her lap. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” Angel said perking up again. “The point is, we can’t rely on my Dad or my brother to make a mistake this early on. We have to wait until they feel confident enough to let us out of their sight. Once they do, that is when we act. Understand?”

“Yeah,” Cherri said, reluctantly nodding her head in agreement. “I just hate waiting. It’s so boring.”

“I know, doll,” Angel replied. “But don’t worry. If everything keeps going this well, that wait shouldn’t be much longer. Just wait a little longer, okay?”

“Okay,” Cherri said, picking up her sandwich again. “But when we get the chance, I’m blowing those fuckers up to Heaven.”

Angel chuckled and said, “I wouldn’t have it any other way, sugar tits.”

The pair shared a smile and remained silent until they finished their lunches.

Once they had finished their lunches, Angel pushed the cart of food against the wall by the door and asked Cherri, “You want to take a nap, Cher? I’m feeling kinda tired.”

Cherri shrugged as she kicked off her shoes and socks and replied, “Why not? It’s not like we have anything better to do. Besides, this bed is comfortable and nice.”

“Indeed, it is,” Angel said, flicking off the light and climbing back onto the bed before he got an idea in his head. “Hey, Cherri? The good doctor will find us like this, right? So, since he is, how about we make it look like we’re enjoying it?”

“Oh, I getcha,” Cherri said. “So, what do we do? You don’t want me to get naked. Do ya?”

“No, no,” Angel said. “Nothing like that. Just take off your pants and that dress you’re wearing. You can strip down to your underwear if you want. That should be more than enough if you’re okay with it. You can find a slip or something in those drawers. You don’t need to go naked for me.”

Cherri snapped her fingers and said, “I have a better idea!”

Cherri then took off her pants and her shirt and climbed over to the other side of the bed where Angel’s gray uniform shirt was. She pulled it on and struck a pose.

“What do ya think?” Cherri asked. “Lots of girls wear their boyfriend’s shirts.”

Angel smiled and said, “That looks perfect, sugar tits. Now, let’s get cozy.”

Angel threw off the covers and gestured for Cherri to climb in. Cherri readily climbed into bed next to Angel on the pillow next to his head.

Angel shook his head and lifted Cherri up by her armpits.

“Angie, what are you doing?” Cherri asked confusedly.

“It’s been a long time since you’ve shared a bed with a man,” Angel said with a chuckle.

“What are you talking about?” Cherri protested. “Why are you manhandling me, Angie?”

“You ain’t sleeping with me like you’re madly in love with me,” Angel replied.

Cherri scoffed and said, “There’s a wrong way to do it?”

“Clearly, I’m dealing with a novice,” Angel sighed jokingly. “Here, let the expert show you how it’s done, babe. It’s all about the presentation.”

Angel pulled Cherri on top of him and laid her down so that her head was resting on top of his chest fluff and said, “You need to rest your head there on my chest just like that with your arms lying on top or wrapped around my torso like I’m a giant body pillow. Then I wrap my arms around your back like this…”

Angel wrapped his two pairs of arms around Cherri’s back and held her against his chest and continued, “…and I hold you against me, close to my heart, so that you feel warm, protected, and most importantly, loved. I might even stroke your back to give you that bit of extra comfort to really sell the scene.”

“Oh, my God,” Cherri said, settling herself comfortably against Angel’s chest. “You really are an expert at this. And I thought you were gay.”

“Eh, I prefer men, but I can service either gender,” Angel said, settling his head against the pillow. “Although to be honest, I have been growing to like snuggling with women a lot more these past few weeks.”

“Oh, really now?” Cherri asked.

“Yeah,” Angel said, rubbing Cherri’s back and prompting her to relax into Angel’s chest even more. “Women are soft and warm. I still prefer fucking men, but ladies ain’t so bad if you’re lookin’ for a snuggle buddy.”

“Be careful,” Cherri said before letting out a massive yawn. “You might be turning bi.”

Angel chuckled to himself as he sat up quickly to pull the blankets over himself and Cherri. Angel settled back into bed and Cherri moaned pleasantly as she buried her face back into Angel’s fluff.

The two laid like that and quickly drifted off to sleep.

#hazbinhotel #fanfiction

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gothic-safari-clown · 4 years ago

Text

The Mind’s Power Over the Body

PART FIVE: LIBERATION

Story Summary: They only ever had each other. It had been that way since high school, ever since Elianna transferred to dreary Arlen and took Jonathan under her wing. They go separate ways for college, and when they’re reunited at Arkham Asylum professionally, Elianna comes to find that they’ve both changed during their time separated. Can she look past the promise of danger and stay by Jonathan’s side as they slide further and further into the darkness while she grapples to come to terms with the truth about herself? Can she accept what needs to be done in order to hold onto the only person who holds any meaning in her life? This is a very self-indulgent AU that draws from several different canons of the DCU and ignoring others, starting in the Batman Begins Nolanverse. This will follow the plot of the movie, although the timeline has been very slightly tweaked.

Trigger Warning: Mention of suicidal thoughts, blood, stalking, assault, and explicit language

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four

Word count: 5414

When her alarm sounded on the morning after her weekend, Elianna was under no circumstances ready to wake up. Vaguely ominous dreams had plagued her for the third night in a row, and although she couldn’t recall a single detail, they had left a looming sense of foreboding hanging over her head.

Unhungry, she decided to skip breakfast and took advantage of the extra time that the decision bought her after getting ready to pick up a coffee from the shop down the street from her apartment on her way to work.

The uneasy feeling redoubled as she parked in her spot and shut off the car. “Something bad is going to happen today,” she said aloud to herself. “But at least I can be ready for it.”

She picked up her week’s schedule from the front desk, and one glance over it told her exactly where the trouble would come from. Her first session of the day was with Zsasz, right in the morning. She sighed when she saw it and shook her head, thanking the receptionist begrudgingly, and made her way up to her office.

Upon arriving, El retrieved her notes from the other day to look over them and compare them to the pre-existing information in Zsasz’s file. A knock on the door caught her attention, and she looked up at it, lifting herself out of her seat with a sigh. Opening the door, she found Jonathan on the other side and let herself relax.

“Good morning, love, come on in,” she welcomed distractedly and stepped aside to let him in. Looking at his face, he seemed as tired as she felt. “You look terrible, Jonathan, did you sleep at all last night?”

“Not much,” he admitted as she returned to her seat, and he settled into the guest seat opposite her. He cast a weary look around her still bare office. “Knowing you, I thought you would have decorated a little more already.”

“Hm?” El asked distractedly, looking back up from her notes. “Oh, yeah, I just haven’t thought about it much, I guess.” She looked around at the naked walls for herself. “Although now that I am, I suppose I’ll bring some stuff tomorrow. Care to help me?” She leaned her weight upon her elbows on the desk and rested her chin on the lattice of her fingers.

“Do I have a choice?” He cocked an eyebrow, to which El smiled in response, absentmindedly noticing once again the way the light would catch in his eyes with the slightest shift of his head.

“Of course you do, but if you loved me, you would anyway.” She gave a wide, innocent smile and blinked sweetly at him, earning an eye roll and a tiny smile in response.

“Oh, and who says that I do?” he challenged.

“Well, there’s me, of course,” El began, counting off on her fingers, “and the fact that you made extra sure that the warden would read my application so that I would have to come here and work with you. So there you have two pretty solid sources, but I’m sure that I could think of more if that isn’t enough.”

“Alright, alright, you’ve got me, you win,” he replied tiredly, raising his hand for her to stop, to which Elianna chuckled softly, before finding her attention back on Zsasz’s file. “What are you so distracted by?”

“Ugh, just my first session this morning.” She sighed, shaking her head and beginning to gather everything she would need into her briefcase; she had fifteen minutes, and she liked to be early to things. “Have you ever worked with Victor Zsasz?” El asked her friend as she stood, to which he shook his head and stood with her. “Well, wish me luck and hope that I don’t get killed next time he decides to escape.” She opened the door for Jonathan to leave first and followed him into the hallway.

“Well, I don’t have any appointments scheduled until this afternoon. Want some company?”

“Please.” The pair started down the hallway to the stairs. “So how’s…our mutual friend? Is he the reason you didn’t sleep well?” El inquired, looking to change the subject.

“Mostly. I also had some paperwork to finish before the weekend was over, and that took a while.” They chatted about Jonathan’s disorganized work habits as they followed the stairwell to the third floor.

Waiting for them were the same three guards from the day before. Once again, one posted himself at the glass—now joined by Jonathan—and the original two accompanied Elianna inside.

“Good morning, Victor. Sleep well?” She asked politely as she took her seat and once again removed her notepad and pen from her briefcase along with her trusty voice recorder.

“Like a rock, doctor. That’s the upside of a padded room; you can get comfortable anywhere.” Oh, that voice. Once again, El found herself fighting off a shiver.

“Why don’t we pick up where we left off a few days ago?” El suggested amicably and made a small note when she didn’t receive an answer. “How about you tell me what made you begin liberating people?” Immediately, Zsasz’s mood shifted; he clearly loved to talk about himself. Narcissistic??? El scribbled in her notes as he began to speak.

“One might say that I had it all,” he mused. Oh, dear, thought Elianna, he’s rehearsed this too. “Wealth. Family.” The word fell to the table and dripped with sarcasm. “Until one fateful day, my dear, sainted parents died in a boating accident. Consumed with grief, I soon gambled all that wealth away, and made my solemn way to Gotham Bridge.” The lilting of his voice reminded El of a dramatic narration over a soap opera. “As I prepared for the plunge, I was confronted by a homeless gentleman with a knife, who demanded I give him all of my money. Of course, I had none left, but he simply wouldn’t believe me. A struggle ensued, and I ended up with the knife.” The memory makes Zsasz smile dreamily. “I stared that man in the eyes and saw the meaninglessness of life. The desperation, the hatred, and the hardship that I felt in myself, and I realized something…significant: it’s all for nothing. You could say, in a way, I owe my existence to that man. With that first kill, I became what I am today.”

“I see. May I ask you a question, Victor?” El looked up from the diligent notes she had been taking during his story.

“Isn’t that what you’re here for, doctor?”

“Well, your work liberating people gives you a purpose of sorts, doesn’t it?” Zsasz remained silent, but his eyes narrowed, and his smile faltered slightly. “To your mind, it gives your life meaning. In which case, life can’t be meaningless. In fact, I could argue that my purpose is to tell you this now, couldn’t I?” She hadn’t meant to get philosophical, yet there she was anyway.

“Very well spoken, Doctor Montgomery,” the criminal’s wide grin picked back up, and something in his voice had changed. Once again, the feeling of impending danger spiked, and El rose to her feet slowly in preparation to make for the door. “However, if that’s the case, then that would mean that your purpose has been served, wouldn’t it?” Suddenly, Zsasz lunged over the table, cuffs flung to the floor, and El heard one of the guards shout ‘he’s got a knife!’ and on instinct, her arm flew up to cover her face as she stumbled backward. A slicing pain rippled through her forearm near her elbow before the guards had a chance to catch him, and at the moment, she found herself stupidly upset about her now ruined yellow shirt before kicking herself mentally. That isn’t even close to important right now!

Forcing herself back to the situation at hand, Elianna fumbled to open the door behind her as her escorts surged forward to subdue the enraged Victor Zsasz. An alarm suddenly blared through the asylum when the outside guard pressed the emergency button beside the door, the sudden noise making Elianna flinch hard.

When she finally managed to wrench the door into swinging open towards her, El practically fell through it, and Jonathan was already there half supporting and half dragging her into the hallway as the third guard rushed past them into the room to help his peers. “What the hell happened?” She demanded, defensively angry. “Why weren’t his damn cuffs secured?” El felt herself trembling as her mind raced, gradually realizing that she had been in danger from the second she entered the room. Was it his sadistic enjoyment of suspense, or his desire to talk about himself that had kept her safe for that long?

“I don’t know, whoever brought him in must be helping him,” Jonathan explained breathlessly, raising the redhead’s arm to look at the gash. “This looks bad, come with me,” he did a good job of hiding the distress in his voice for his friend’s sake but kept a firm grip around her shoulders as he escorted her to the infirmary.

As soon as they walked in, a nurse was there to greet them, having been informed of the situation.

“Is it bad?” El asked the nurse, who shook her head.

“It’s a shallow cut, nothing to worry over. I’m going to clean and bandage it, and you should be good to go.”

“He went straight for your throat.” Jonathan recounted. “If you hadn’t thrown your arm up so quickly-” he shook his head, arms crossed over his chest.

“I don’t want to think about it,” El closed her eyes, swallowing hard. “At least we know I have good reflexes,” she added quietly in an attempt to lighten the mood and earned a smile from the nurse as she began wrapping a bandage around the wound. When she finished, she handed El a spare roll.

“You’ll want to take this one off before you shower and rewrap it afterward to be safe, but it should be alright in a few days.”

“He’ll be assigned a different doctor by tomorrow,” Jonathan commented as El stood, and she looked at him sharply.

“What? No!” she exclaimed, her adrenaline still pumping, and Jonathan looked at her as though she should be admitted. “I want to keep working with him; I can’t just let my first major case go like that!”

“Absolutely not,” he argued firmly, keeping his voice steady.

“We can have extra security next time, and have them double-check the-”

“No!” El stopped in surprise. He had never snapped at her like that before. He sighed exasperatedly. “Look, it isn’t up to me, the administration won’t reassign you to his case, but even if it were, there’s not a chance that I’d let you back into a room with him.” El stared him down defiantly, but upon seeing his resolve, she gave in.

“Fine.” She conceded begrudgingly. “I’ll just find another way to prove myself.” Jonathan nodded in response.

“That’s much better, and you will. Now come on, you’ll have to make a statement and fill out a report.” El nodded, and they made for the warden’s office together. Unfortunately, the pair needed to pass through the corridor in which the session had been held. It seemed that Zsasz had put up quite a fight; he had only then been successfully subdued and was being escorted back to his cell surrounded by guards (several of whom looked worse for wear) with three pairs of cuffs securing his wrists. A small crowd had gathered in the hall of people curious about the disturbance, forcing Elianna and Jonathan to stop as the twisted parade passed.

Zsasz caught sight of Elianna as he was marched through and grinned at her, forever unblinking. “Leave your door unlocked for me.” He taunted, earning a hard shove from the guard nearest to him. Jonathan stared the criminal down and put his arm around El’s shoulders protectively, pushing through the crowd and pulling her back into motion.

“You’re not going home.” His tone of voice left no room for protest.

“Fine, but I need to get some things first.”

“Then we’ll take tomorrow off and buy you whatever you need, but you can’t go back to your apartment for a while.”

“Jesus, fine,” El said exasperatedly. “When did you get so protective anyway? You’ve never been like this before.”

“When the only person I give a damn about was almost killed in front of me for the second time, now stop arguing and just keep walking.” Despite her displeasure of being chastised, El smiled to herself. She had gotten him to admit it openly when she wasn’t even trying. That in itself registered as a small victory in her mind.

Without another word, she did her best to match her pace to his much longer legs, clinging to his forearm in an attempt not to fall behind.

“Welcome to Gotham,” she muttered to herself and shook her head at the ridiculousness of it all. Gotham badly needed saving from itself; that much was clear to her. Only one question remained: who was going to do it?

.xXx.

Despite Jonathan’s insistence that she was to drive straight to his apartment when they left work, Elianna made an executive decision to go and get what she needed from her place first; she couldn’t let Jonathan buy her all new things when she could just get what she needed in ten minutes. She was sure that Zsasz would be heavily guarded that night, and she would call Jonathan while she packed to justify her actions.

“Jonathan? Don’t be angry; I’m just packing a few things, I promise I’ll be in and out.” There was an angry sigh in her receiver as she unlocked the door.

“Check every room first.” He instructed, knowing that he couldn’t convince his friend to get right back in her car.

“Yes, boss,” she replied sarcastically but did so anyway, thoroughly checking every nook and cranny. “All clear, everything is fine.”

“Stay on the phone while you pack, put me on speaker.”

They stayed on the phone, and in just a few minutes, she had everything she needed to stay with Jonathan for a week and was locking her front door as she left. See, love? Everything is fine.

“I’m on my way to the car now. I’ll be there soon.” She assured Jonathan. Satisfied that everything had gone smoothly with no further need of his supervision, he wished her a safe drive there before they hung up.

Once outside, she held her pepper spray firmly in one hand and her car keys in the other. It was dark out now, and even in the chaos of Gotham, the darkness drew out more crazies than the daytime. Once her keys were securely in her right hand, she returned her attention forward, and what she saw made her blood run cold.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she breathed to herself and ducked behind a car. What she had seen was the distinct and unmistakable figure of Victor Zsasz turning from the sidewalk and into the parking lot, moving directly toward her building. A hundred questions hurtled through her brain: How had he escaped so quickly? Was his escape route in his cell somehow? How could he have gotten away from Arkham without being spotted? How had he learned where she lived? How many people were helping him on the inside, and who were they?

It was too late for her to do anything about it now, but God help her, she would track down whoever was responsible for this monumental screw up first thing in the morning, and she would make them sorry. But first, she needed to focus on avoiding the unthinkable.

Swallowing hard, she did her best to shove down her terror and quiet her breathing as she peeked up through the windows of the car she had hidden behind to track Zsasz’s progress. Her heart was beating so loudly in her ears, and for some reason, all she could think of was that goddamned Poe story. At that moment, she abandoned her atheism and begged desperately to God or anyone listening that he couldn’t hear the wet thumping of her heart over the echoing sound of his careless footsteps.

Was it possible they heard not? Almighty God! —no, no! They heard!—They suspected!—They knew! Again! Hark! Louder!

Louder!

As the solitary figure steadily approached the alligator green sedan that Elianna had found herself crouched behind, she slowly crept around toward the front of the car opposite him so as not to be seen. He passed the rear bumper close enough that she could hear him humming contentedly and breathing in the “fresh” Gotham air as though he were on a simple, pleasant stroll, and not on his way to construct his most recent gruesome crime scene.

I should have listened to Jonathan.

When El finally made it to the opposite side of the car, and Zsasz seemed a safe enough distance away, her heart leaped at the thought that she was in the clear—freedom! Safety!—and she was just standing up to break for her car, only a little further down the row, when her bag—my fucking duffle bag!—swung off of her shoulder and down her arm, swinging hard into that ghastly green car.

In slow motion, she watched the contact, unable to move to stop it, and jumped as the car alarm went off. Her head snapped back up just in time to see Zsasz spin around to observe the sudden disturbance. The fear rolling off of El was palpable as she watched in real-time Victor’s recognition of her face, his target, his victim, his newest zombie. His bald head turned almost skeletal as his grin built slowly, steadily transforming into the most horrifying thing that Elianna had ever seen.

“Doctor Montgomery! Is this a bad time?” He had already begun strolling toward her, to which El began walking backward shakily. “I’d like very much to discuss my philosophy with you.” The gash on her arm was throbbing, a reminder that she hadn’t escaped her last encounter with Zsasz unscathed. And here she had no guards.

“You see, since you obviously didn’t meet your death in that dismal room,” here he paused to laugh, “the universe is off balance!” He declared grandiosely, spreading his arms wide and tipping his head back as he continued. “How can things function properly if I allow a zombie to escape her fate?” His words filled El with heavy dread, rendering her muscles useless as he came closer and closer despite the screaming need to move, to do something!

She couldn’t help taking a mental picture of the moment as he continued steadily toward her. The tableau was almost cinematic: the dingy, yellow street lamp between them hummed loudly as it strained to stay on, and the resulting shadows were starkly black against the pavement, so sharp it was as though they had been stenciled on the ground; to say nothing of the man—the beast—that came toward her, almost Lovecraftian.

Thin, and stretched up tall compared to her small frame, the skin stretched tight against the sharp bones of the face beneath it, the bald head and teeth prominently displayed in a deranged grin reflecting the sickly yellow light, reminding El of how horribly insane the creature approaching her really was. Not to mention the scars—oh God, the scars!

The slim, raised tallies that marred his skin seemed ironically countless, and they almost glowed in the light of the bright moon and the stale light from the street lamp, and those eyes just continued to stare, as unblinking as ever.

Elianna processed all of this at once and was suddenly struck with the realization that if she didn’t act right then, she would be reduced to nothing but another of those haunting, alien marks; a trophy.

The thought hit her hard enough to release her from her stupor—just in time!—and raise her arm, releasing a stream of pepper spray into what was hopefully the direction of those too-big eyes as she turned on her heel and sprinted as fast as she could toward her car.

The wild laughter from behind her told her instantly that she had fully missed her target, and she pushed herself faster. Something struck her in the back of the knee, and she didn’t have time to wonder what it was as her head hit the ground hard, her hands scraping against the asphalt when she was sent sprawling. She groaned at the burning in her forehead, and something warm dripped down her face. If I can just get to my car, was her only thought as the pumping adrenaline took over, compelling her to start to her feet.

A cold hand wrapped around her ankle, and without thinking, she kicked out hard with her other foot. Something that felt like a nose cracked under her heel, accompanied by a sharp grunt of pain and the hand loosened, so she struck again, earning her a cry of agony and a free leg. Elianna scrambled to her feet as quickly as she could, not bothering to look behind at the damage she had dealt, focusing all of her energy on stumbling to her car. Get to Jonathan’s now.

Suddenly, a large, black mass swooped over her head, followed by the sound of a body hitting the ground hard and another cry of pain from Zsasz. El risked a glance behind to see a figure shrouded in black yanking Zsasz to his feet, and that was good enough for her. She finally fumbled her way into her car. She didn’t know who the hell that was, and she didn’t care to know. She peeled out of the parking lot, wiping at the blood dripping into her eye.

She checked her reflection in the visor mirror at a stoplight to assess the damage. As was to be expected, she was bleeding profusely where her head had connected with the asphalt. She tried not to worry too much; head wounds always bleed more than seems necessary. Even so, looking at her reflection made her lightheaded, the sight of asphalt sticking in her skin, and her hair matted with blood. She slammed the visor shut, and when the light turned green, she drove as quickly as she could to Jonathan’s apartment.

I almost died twice today.

As soon as she parked, Elianna snatched up her bag from the passenger seat, and for reasons that she didn’t quite understand, locked the car eight times before running into the building and then the elevator as fast as she could. Once inside, she pressed the button for her desired floor and then jammed the 'close door’ button frantically, bouncing anxiously as it made its slow ascent—can’t they make these things any faster?

As soon as the doors opened enough for her to slip through, she sprinted down the hallway, miraculously keeping from tumbling over on the way. She needed to get to Jonathan’s door now, every second that passed inciting more paranoia of some fresh horror presenting itself.

By the time she made it to the right door (a ten second run from the elevator), there were tears in her eyes, and she knocked frantically, needing for him to open the door right this damn second, Jonathan Crane!

Luckily, he seems to respond to the urgent knocking and flings open the door in seconds, the confusion written on his face quickly replaced by shock as he ushered her inside.

“Elianna, what the hell happened?”

“You were right,” she breathed, shutting the door quickly behind her and locking it. “You were right. I-if I hadn’t been on the way t-to the car already….” A tear slipped out of her eye and down her cheek as she finally began to process that had happened.

“Okay, okay, come on,” Jonathan took her bag and her purse from her and set them on the floor. “Bathroom, come with me.” He led his still trembling friend into the bathroom and helped her onto the countertop to get a better look at her head, his brow furrowing in concern.

“Just don’t let me die, okay?” Elianna hadn’t even meant to speak, and nearly didn’t recognize the meek voice as her own.

“Not a chance, just hold still,” he replied as gently as he could, using a sterilized wipe from the first aid kit beneath his sink to carefully brush out the bits of asphalt from her bloodied flesh. Her eyes closed in pain when he moved on to cleaning off the mostly dried blood. “Okay, it isn’t as big as it looks,” he reassured her when he could finally see clearly; he was able to cover the source of the bleeding with a large bandaid. “There, you’re okay.” He concluded the treatment by gently dabbing antibacterial goop onto the divots left by the asphalt down her cheek.

She dropped her freshly clean forehead onto his shoulder when he finished. The light was so bright, and unsurprisingly, her head was killing her. Oh my god, if I had hit much harder, it might have.

“El?” He asked, resting his hand on the back of her head, worried that she had fallen unconscious.

“Lights.” Quickly catching on, he helped her off the counter and guided her back into the living room. She laid on the couch with her eyes shut tight as he went back into the bathroom and proceeded to make far more noise rattling about in the medicine cabinet than seemed necessary.

“You can have Tylenol.” She opened her eyes and sat up to look at the two little pills offered to her in his palm.

“Tylenol? Are you f-” El cut her off and forced a deep breath, taking the medicine from him. “It’s better than nothing. Thank you.” She didn’t even wait for water before she took them.

Jonathan sat on the couch by her head and guided her back into a horizontal position, guiding her head gently onto his lap, knowing that she found the intimacy comforting (regardless of his lack of understanding for it), while she closed her eyes again.

“Don’t fall asleep.”

“I know.”

After a minute, he turned on the television with the volume low and began to run his fingers through her hair absentmindedly. Eventually, her curiosity got the better of her, and El risked a look at the screen just in time to see Zsasz’s mugshot on the news. The sight made her nauseous, and she squeezed her eyes shut again.

Almost immediately, she began to sweat. Her anxiety quickly rocketed almost out of control, and she felt as though she couldn’t breathe as her chest tightened painfully. “C-can you feel yourself going into shock?” She asked meekly. She had meant it to come off as a joke, but unable to achieve that goal, she realized that it was a genuine concern.

“Deep breaths,” Jonathan replied calmly. “Put your feet on the armrest; you need to elevate your legs.” She did so without arguing, doing her best to keep her breathing deep and steady. “You know, you should consider yourself lucky, El.”

The statement hit her hard enough to make her forget her anxiety immediately, and she took a long, shaky breath before sitting up, swinging her feet to the floor so that she was sitting next to him properly.

“How. Could this possibly. Be lucky?” She asked slowly, doing her best to remain calm. “I have been attacked, threatened, slashed, bandaged, stalked, and practically bled out all today.” She had started slowly but found herself steadily speaking faster and louder. “I think most people-no actually, everyone on Earth would not consider that lucky, except for you. So why the hell are you smiling right now, Jonathan Crane? Do you think this is funny? I could have died tonight!”

“Of course, I don’t think it’s funny that you were attacked again. I just forgot how entertaining it is when you get angry.” For a moment, El stared at Jonathan, baffled by what he was saying, before hitting him with a throw pillow, to which he looked almost offended.

“It’s not entertaining, you bastard. Not now, in this circumstance!” She swung the pillow at him again, and he jumped up, ducking out of the way when she threw it at him instead.

“No, El, look,” he raised his hands in surrender, doing his best to backtrack and catching the next pillow that was flung at him. “You managed to escape Zsasz twice. Both times, on sheer dumb luck. Before today his mortality rate was 100%, so yes, that’s what I call lucky-don’t you dare throw that at me.”

El froze her with her arm up, ready to hurl another pillow at his face. As much as she hated to admit it, he had a point. She reluctantly dropped the pillow back onto the couch, and he relaxed.

“Fine. But you’re making dinner all week, and tomorrow you’re going to find out who let him escape so that I can shatter their kneecaps. What?” She asked in response to the puzzled look on his face.

“Weren’t you going into shock a minute ago? How are you fine right now?” He put the back of his hand on her forehead as though to check her temperature, to which she rolled her eyes and swatted his hand away.

“Through denial, all things are possible, love.” She paused for a beat before adding, “if I say that out loud, do I stop being in denial?” More to herself than to him. Another pause and then, “can we have pancakes for dinner?”

Jonathan stared down at his friend, a little impressed by her sudden resolve, before conceding and walking toward the kitchen.

“As long as you make that hot chocolate that I like.”

#the mind's power over the body #jonathan crane #scarecrow #batman begins #nolanverse #elianna montgomery #jonathan crane x ofc #slight au #fanfiction #multi chapter fic #attraction to the insane #cillian murphy #cillian murphy scarecrow #tmpotb chapter 5

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ottomations · 4 years ago

Text

A giant iron vault door, the cosmetic aspect of it was intimidating to say the least.

Sounds of the redstone, hard at work, poured through the gaps of the blackstone and obsidian walls wherever it could. The many doors and platforms were all designed for the prison to be at maximum security.

Tapping of boots on the ground, one was more metallic and the other was the soles of regular sneakers— squeaking every now and then on the smooth surface.

The warden, guiding the visitor through the process, led them to the aquamarine lamps that shone dimly underneath the black-tinted glass.

Raising the sharp, fire aspect axe, Sam spoke behind his mask,

“Punz, I’m going to have to do a manual check for Items— to make sure you’re not carrying anything into the cell.”

“Alright, got it. Do what you need to do,” the hooded blonde responded, icy eyes blinked to the tip of their shoes as they held their arms loosely to the side.

It was a quick inspection. The burning lingered lightly as the poison seeped into the visitor’s skin, the cold water caused it to finally fade away.

The sounds of the ink swirling in the small, glass pot and the quill writing on the page of the forms was the only sound other than the running lava to both of their lefts. Each of the signatures were neat for a person like them, reading out ‘Punz.’

Punz blanked out for a few of the next parts in the process, mainly remembering the hot lava on his skin feel like a warm, summer day instead of the inferno of the nether.

He was now just staring at a curtain of lava, The Warden filled the silence every minute or two with a reassurance that the lava, “takes a moment to clear away.”

The curtain fell, revealing a horned man with hair that resembled Captain Puffy’s. He seems scared of who was going to visit him, pressing his body against the back wall of the cell. After seeing the blue eyes and platinum hair, Dream calmed and relaxed— seeming relieved.

The brick platform below Punz’s feet moved towards the prisoner, the bubble of the lava resonating in their ears. Stepping off the contraption, they felt the floor of obsidian— regular and cracked. There were scratches and chips in the walls and floor accompanying different spots and marks of dried blood.

The curtain falls, the barricade is lowered.

Silence, a mumble here and there from Dream.

Punz sighed, walking closer as they grasped the right sleeve of their hoodie with the opposite hand, “Dream, are you still...” he paused, collecting his voice with a cough as he took a deep inhale, “are you mad at me?”

Not replying, the prisoner grazed his swollen, bruised cheek. It definitely seemed new. Punz was worried, making a stride closer to Dream and reaching out their hand to wait for a reaction.

“Dream,” they called again, the other had no reaction— again.

Sigh, “Dream.”

The stern tone and the ‘woosh’ in the air caused the ram child to look up. Punz’s arm came down to their sides, stiffly.

“I’m... I’m sorry, truly I am... there’s... stuff going on and—“ the innate rubbed his eyes, dark circles have accumulated from the lack of cushioned resting grounds, “I’m like... glad you came— I’m glad i swear.”

“Well...” the blonde looked around before refocusing on Dream, “While we’re getting this out of the way, i’m a.. a huge dick for- for just excepting the offer from... tommy and stuff...”

Dream gestured for them to sit down on the floor, each doing so.

“And I’m... I’m also sorry for... you— I was really split on the decision between your side and.. his.”

The prisoner nodded slightly and slowly in response, blinking back the moist feeling in his eyes.

“It’s my... my fucking fault for even paying you like... the amount I was, it was such a bad accommodation for what.. what you were doing.”

Punz didn’t reply, being silent for a period of time as Dream continued to stroke and rub the cuts and bruises on his body. They were concerned, although it didn’t seem like a good segway to just ask what they were.

“So how has been your time in... the prison?”

“Definitely... Definitely could be better... I’ve been visited by Tommy... Bad... Sapnap... Ranboo— I think...” eyes closed as his Adam’s apple bobbed, “Quackity has been visiting.. every day...”

“What... what does he want?”

“Well... Tommy was... revived... the information went around... fast— a-and he wants to.. wants to know the secret to revival and stuff...”

Punz started to connect the dots, Quackity? This? To Dream for crying out loud??

“Did... you tell him?”

“N... no— well— he did first ask for the book, but I already... burned it. After... refusing to give information...” streaks of warm tears ran down his face, the emeralds of his irises disappeared as the eyelids closed shut.

Dream unzipped the shirt of the orange outfit that he wore, taking it off to a mostly ripped, white tank top. The rips and tears revealed large scars and cuts in his torso that were definitely not there before his imprisonment. Some were still bleeding or open, the scars haven’t formed at all.

Punz gasped at the sight reaching to lightly graze their fingertips on the wounds— causing a reaction of pain in Dream’s face, drawing in air through his gritted teeth. They lifted and pulled the hood off of their head.

Dream couldn’t help but inspect how the other changed from their last interaction, their back hair was kept in a tight bun that sat at the crown of their head. Bangs still hung forwards and swept right to keep out of Punz’s eyes

Speaking of his eyes, there was a specific glisten that wasn’t in them anymore. It reminded Dream of contacts. What could he be hiding?

“I’m.. so sorry for you. I didn’t think that this would happen...”

“I knew it was bound to have someone yearning for the information... but I didn’t think torture would be one of the options... I don’t...” the taller sniffled as his knees curled to his chest, careful to not touch the tender skin.

Both of them paused to recollect their thoughts.

“So Punz... how is... how is the uh... outside,” Dream asked, the hunt for an answer commenced.

“It’s alright, that... th-the... egg... is... w... wonderful, it’s great!” They responded, seemingly in a trance.

“Punz... please, are you okay?”

“Yep! no... I’m perfectly fine, everything’s weird...” a heavy sigh, hands reaching up to their eyes to take out the contacts.

Ruby red.

“I don’t... I know I’m.. Not... I’m fine— No...” they tried to cover up the controlling voice.

“Hey, I don’t know if you can properly speak to me, but I respect your decision. Hopefully you... achieve your goals!”

Punz stood and walked over to sit next to Dream, leaning their head back on the wall. They took a heavy sigh after a while, crossing their legs and moving their head forwards to stare at the floor. Dream put his arm around Punz’s shoulder, causing a slight jolt.

Both of them leaned into the embrace, Dream took another step and undid the other’s hair bun. It fell down quite gracefully with a few ruffles of his hand, some strands shone like lightning as they reflected the glowstone’s gleam.

The pair stayed like this for a while, taking in the warmth of the other. Before Punz really knew it, there was a hand that rested palm to palm with the prisoner’s. The arm on their shoulder was interlaced with the hairs on their scalp.

Punz moved his head, wanting to look at the other’s eyes. Dream was absurdly close, he blinked in surprise as the other made eye contact.

The inmate looked away to his bare feet.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to do that— If it makes you uncomfortable.”

Punz moved their free hand to cup the other’s cheek, turning Dream’s head to face him again. The freckles on his face better emphasized the peachy glow.

The shorter chuckled, blonde hair brushed their shoulders at their length, “Your face is pink, Dream. You thinking about George or something?”

“Nah, I’m thinking about someone else, they’re nicer to me and have better hair for me to grasp when I want to kiss them,” the responder cooed.

“What a charmer,” Punz smirked, “I could’ve sworn he was a child torturer.”

Dream scoffed, “I couldn’t tell if that was a joke or you were being serious. Either way, you’re for some reason into that shit.”

“I’m my defense, I was being paid,” They paused, “In second defense, the torturer is good lookin’.”

Both of them laughed, rustling around in their positions as each hid their flushed faces.

“I can’t tell if you’re glad that we’re flirting or mad that you enjoy it—“ Dream smiled, looking at the other with a smile.

Punz giggled, “Both— but I think it’s mostly the first option.”

“Heh, I’m glad. I’ve liked you and what you do.”

“Mmh... yeah, I have too...”

Dream paused, turning his body to face Punz.

“Do you want to... maybe...?”

“Wait like... actually, you want to?”

“Yeah... just...”

A message appeared in the chat, Punz pulled up his menu to read the alert from The Warden, Sam.

‘Punz, your visiting hours are over. Please tell me when you’re ready to leave by the next 5 minutes or I will force you to leave.

Dream also read the message, “You... you need to leave...”

“Yeah.. I’ll see you later, Dream. I had quite a bit of fun talking with you about our lives,” Punz replied as they put their contacts back in.

The prisoner didn’t want him to leave, it wasn’t a proper ‘goodbye’ and he wanted to do what he’s been wanting to do for a long while. They made amends and had shared feelings, why now?

“I’m ready to leave, Sam...”

Punz had already gotten into the water, the Warden continued to give instructions as they readied to be ‘splash-potioned’ out of the cell.

“Punz—!”

“Huh?”

“I have something to give to you before you leave,” Dream stood up and jogged over to the water, going into it and held Punz’s head with his hands.

“What are you doin—?”

But Punz was cut off from finishing their sentence, cut off with the feeling of the other pressing his lips against their own. It was slightly chapped, but filled with the love and happiness that they shared that evening.

They responded, pressing into the kiss with lust. Their hands reached up and around Dream’s shoulders, grasping tightly and pulling him closer to his body. The taller shared the tight embrace and his hands moved down to the other’s waist.

Before they knew it, it was over. Punz woke to see Sam at the other side of the room with the levers behind him.

“So, how was your visit?”

“It was... good, yeah.”

Punz wished it lasted longer though. Maybe he could visit another time to continue what Dream and them had.

Upon exiting the prison, they visited their home and tended to their bees. They changed into something more comfortable as the night shone ever so bright in the sky. Making their stride to a lectern, they got out a book and quill.

Lighting a candle, ink dropped off of the tip.

Punz started to write a letter to the arctic,

“Dear Technoblade,

I believe you owe us a favor...”

#might continue this #I’m making a post afterwards tagging it and stuff

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shasta-reese · 4 years ago

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Just a small ficlet?idk

I’ve never actually written any fanfic before but I’m gonna try. So this is gonna be set after 5x19 and after they beat Lex & Lillian, and just them having a little celebration of not dying after saving the world, Alex and Lena have a little chat. And I ultimately just want the characters to be happy, especially Lena (someone pls get her to a therapist). So here goes nothing.

-------

It’s after Lex has been put away for good this time. At least hopefully he stays in jail and not bribe a prison warden again but at the moment everyone is just glad to be alive with minor injuries. They’re all gathered in Kara’s apartment with food and drinks, just having an overall good time. Lena’s standing at the window alone, staring out into the city, grateful that the city was still standing. When she feels a presence beside her, she thinks it’s Kara but when the person speaks she’s surprised.

“Hey, Lena. You doing okay?” Alex asks, her voice soft within the room of chatter and laughter in the background. Lena hides her initial surprise and continues looking out the window when she responds.

“I’m...doing okay. Or as okay as I can be after this whole ordeal, but okay,” Lena takes a sip of her drink, “How ‘bout you? Are you okay?”

“Well, you would think we’d be use to these kind of things by now,” Alex says, facing the window mirroring Lena’s position. “But I guess it means we’re still human to feel something in the face of potential death, don’t you think?”

Lena sighs, “I was such a fucking idiot thinking I could change humanity, that I could remove and essential part of being human. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for what I did.” How could she have been so idiotic? To not see through Lex, even after all his deceptions Lena still fell for his manipulation. Some genius she is, Lena thinks to herself.

Alex looks to Lena, her features soften, “You’re not completely to blame here Lena, yeah, you did some questionable things but Lex used and manipulated you. You were vulnerable and he took advantage of that. And you recognized that you fucked up and you’re owning up to that. Gotta give yourself some credit for that at least.” Lena finally turns to Alex, she could feel herself fighting her tears.

“I aided in the world almost ending again, first it was Rhea with the Daxamite Invasion and now with Leviathan and Lex. I just always let my emotions get the best of me and it results in catastrophe. And I guess it all blew up in my face all because I didn’t want other people to feel the pain that I felt. All because I got my feelings hurt. And now my actions will haunt me for the rest of my life.” Lena finishes, fingers fidgeting with the glass in her hands. Alex takes a moment to observe Lena, seeing the regret and pain in Lena’s eyes. Alex thinks to herself, God, what did this woman do to be put this through all of this?

“It’s not like I was the best person in this situation either, I kept telling myself that I was your friend too but I didn’t even reach out to you to check on you when Kara told you she was Supergirl. Not to mention I almost blew you up with Claymore, I am so sorry for that by the way. But none of us are blameless here,” Alex ensures Lena’s looking at her when she says all this to make sure Lena’s listening. “Your feelings are valid Lena, no matter if you think you over exaggerated or justified them, they are valid. This is long overdue but, I am sorry Lena for not being there for you like a friend should have. I know ‘sorry’ doesn’t fix everything but I’m hoping it’s a start.”

Lena freezes for a second, not expecting Alex to be the one apologizing. She quickly composes herself. “Thank you Alex, I really appreciate that. I know no amount of ‘I’m sorry’ can erase what I’ve done but I’m sorry for everything I’ve caused. And I hope that this is the start of fixing things too.” Lena ends, with a small hopeful smile, to which Alex reciprocates with her own.

“Good, that’s good. Now come here, you look like you need a long overdue hug.” Alex opens her arms waiting for Lena to step into them. Lena leans into Alex, hugging her tightly, Lena presses her head into Alex’s shoulder and muffles another “I’m sorry”. Alex holds her closer and whispers back “I know”.

When they part Lena wipes away a small tear that escaped and takes a deep breath, “Let’s go back to the party, shall we?”

Alex breathes out a content sigh, “Yeah, let’s go.” As they both turn back to the others and see that Nia and Kara are in the middle of seeing who can stuff more potstickers into their mouths, while J’onn and M’gann shake their heads fondly at them with smiles on their faces. Lena looks at the people around her, despite everything that’s happened they’re all still here. We’re gonna be okay, eventually.

We’re gonna be okay.

#supergirl #agentcorp brotp #lena luthor #alex danvers #kara danvers #not supercorp #maybe in the future #sorry for tagging supercorp even though its not #supercorp

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keichanz · 5 years ago

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what the hell should i title these things? lol

@artistefish THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE ;ADJFLAJFIA;

two sketches to go along with it; i’m thinking this one is sort of like a rough draft to this one (the first two pics anyway lol)

originally i was gonna wait to post them until i had all of them written up, but i changed my mind because one i’m impatient, and two, i have no idea how long that will take lol so i’ll post them they’re completed.

a little note: i’m giving the characters their own personality quirks so they won’t be acting exactly like the characters in the movie. for example, i’m having Kagome be a bit more fiery tempered than Evy is and it shows in her mannerisms. i am, however, still following the dialogue.

[ i ] [ ii ]

Cairo Prison, 1926

“Come, come! Step over the threshold. Welcome to Cairo Prison, my humble home.”

The man that led them inside was stout, a bit on the short side, and with an unusually pale face despite no doubt spending most of his time under the hot desert sun. The dark markings on his face, a loud and deliberate boast to his status as the warden, had the side effect of making it look as if he had perpetual raccoon eyes. The white bandana wrapped around his head was dusty and sweat stained while the rest of his garb remained neat and relatively clean.

Clinging to her brother’s arm, Kagome Higurashi was severely beginning to doubt the sincerity of his words, and what he said next only confirmed he suspicions.

“You told me you got it on a dig down in Thebes,” Kagome hissed, warily looking around at all the prison workers as they followed the warden deeper into the prison.

“Yeah, well, I was mistaken,” Miroku returned, looking five times more uncomfortable than his sister, and if Kagome didn’t know any better she’d say he even looked a little nervous.

“You lied to me.”

“I lie to everybody. What makes you so special?”

“I am your sister,” she reminded him, as if that would make him feel even an ounce of guilt.

It didn’t. “Yes, well, that just makes you more gullible.”

“Miroku, you stole it from a drunk at the local casbah!” she heatedly reprimanded, sounding truly appalled to be related to such a deplorable character.

“Picked his pocket, actually,” Miroku corrected, sounding a bit harried and then suddenly he was swinging her around, urging her back toward the entrance. “So I don’t think it’s a very good—”

“Miroku, will you stop being so ridiculous,” Kagome huffed, pulling on his arm and forcibly turning them back around to cross the remaining distance to where the warden waited for them before briskly asking, “Now what exactly is this man in prison for?”

Leaning casually against the steel bars that made up the cell, the warden grunted and relayed, “This I did not know, but when I heard you were coming, I asked him that myself.”

Kagome blinked. “And what did he say?”

At this, Mukotsu the warden adapted a rather exasperated look as he pointed a finger in the air.

“He said he was just looking for a good time.” He turned his hand in a careless gesture and the door to the cell banged open.

With wide eyes Kagome watched as two armed men roughly dragged the prisoner into the cell, slamming him against the cold steel of the bars separating them, and Kagome gasped. One of the guards punched him in the back and with a grunt the prisoner sank to his knees, teeth bared in a grimace, and though unkempt, shaggy silver hair fell messily into his face from the rough treatment, it did nothing to retract from the absolute brilliant gold of his eyes as they bore into her own.

Slightly shaken, Kagome asked a little breathlessly, “This is—this is the man you stole it from?”

Looking like he’d rather be anywhere else but there, Miroku grinned a little awkwardly and revealed, “Yes, exactly, so why don’t we just go sniff out a spot of tiffin—”

“Who are you?” came a flippant male voice and the siblings both turned their attention toward the scruffy looking man behind the bars.

Appearing bored, Inuyasha slid his hands down the bars and flicked his golden gaze to Kagome, a sardonic twist to his mouth that might have been a smile.

“And who’s the broad?”

Aghast, Kagome echoed incredulously, “Broad?” Her brows snapped low over her eyes in indignation; however before she could give him a piece of her mind, her dear brother spoke up so she simply narrowed her eyes in affront.

“Well,” Miroku began, taking a step forward, “I—I’m just a local sort of missionary chap, spreading the good word and all that.” He offered what he hoped was a charming grin and reached back to tug Kagome forward. “But this is my sister, Kagome.”

“How do you do,” Kagome greeted softly, still a bit wary, but willing to overlook his initial rudeness. After all, he was behind bars; she supposed his temperament was justified.

The golden-eyed inmate frowned as he blatantly looked her up and down.

“Yeah, well,” he snorted, unimpressed. “Guess she’s not a total loss.”

While Miroku gaped at the man’s audacity, Kagome’s brows snapped low over her eyes and she stepped forward, glaring at the man as she said in aghast, “I beg your pardon?”

The prisoner looked completely unapologetic as he merely raised an eyebrow at her, but before anymore words – or insults – could be exchanged, the prison warden started shouting in an unfamiliar language before releasing a curse.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” he said distractedly and walked off, his face screwed into a displeased frown.

Seizing their chance, Miroku stepped in close to his sister and whispered, “Ask him about the box.”

The face she gave him suggested he should be the one doing the asking, but nevertheless she obliged and once more faced the man behind bars.

“Ah, we have found—” Kagome frowned again. “Hello. Excuse me.”

A white fear flicked before he slowly turned his head and golden eyes were trained on her once more, looking bored.

“We both found your…your puzzle box,” she continued, offering a small smile. “And we’ve come to ask you about it.”

Beside her Miroku silently nodded, attempting to look serious.

The man considered them both for a moment before saying bluntly, “No.”

The siblings both blinked.

“No,” Kagome echoed, smile gone.

“No,” Inuyasha repeated, shaking his head, and the look he leveled them with was deadpan. “You came to ask me about Hamunaptra.”

Alarmed, Miroku started shushing him and frantically looked around to see if they’d been overheard. The startled look on Kagome’s face gave way to dubious confusion, then cautious hope.

“How—how do you know that the box pertains to Hamunaptra?” she breathed, leaning in a bit closer for fear of eavesdroppers.

The silver-haired hanyou rolled his eyes. “Because that’s where I was when I found it,” he drawled, pegging them both with another look that loosely translated to duh. “I was there.”

Miroku narrowed his eyes in suspicion and knelt down to be eye-level with him, unwilling to let he or his sister be fooled by this prison rat. He had been drunk when he’d stolen the box, after all. There was no telling what sort of tales the man would weave to ensure his freedom.

“But how do we know that’s not a load of…of pig’s wallow?” he asked.

Amber eyes took him in and then narrowed as a frown knit his brown.

“You know,” Inuyasha rumbled, bringing up a clawed hand and pointing at him. “Do I know you?”

While Kagome inwardly snorted, Miroku chuckled nervously and said, “No, no, no, no. I’ve just got—you know, one of those faces—”

“Casbah!” the inmate growled, abruptly thrusting a fist through the bars and landing a solid punch to the English dandy’s face.

Miroku landed on the unforgiving grounded with a pained groan while the guards reprimanded the prisoner with a hard blow to his back and then again to his side. He grunted and hissed through his teeth but other than pegging them both with a harsh glare he didn’t retaliate.

Kagome barely spared her brother a glance as she carelessly stepped over his prone form and approached the man, thinking that they just might have found their ticket to the mythical city and the hope was obvious on her face.

“You were actually at Hamunaptra?” she asked, eyes wide as she stared into twin pools of melted honey, daring him to lie to her.

The grin that surfaced on his face was slow and devilish. “Yeah,” he rumbled. “I was there.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You swear?”

“Every damn day,” he said, smirking.

Kagome huffed. “No, I didn’t mean that—”

“I know what you meant,” he interrupted her, any amusement gone from his face now. “I was there. Seti’s place. City of the Dead.” He shook his hands in exaggeration, cocking a brow at her.

Trying to contain her excitement, Kagome bit her lip and then ventured, “C-could—could you tell me how to get there?” Dark eyes locked with burnished amber, pleading, hoping.

Inuyasha’s eyes widened and he blinked slowly at her as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard, clearly stunned.

There was more shouting in that unfamiliar language, sounding a bit closer, and looking over her shoulder, Kagome bit her lip and brought her hat down to give them a bit of privacy as she leaned closer. The intensity in those golden eyes of his had butterflies erupting in her stomach but she paid them no mind.

“I mean…the exact location,” she murmured, holding her breath.

Those honeyed eyes went hooded as he drawled, “You wanna know?”

“Well—well, yes,” Kagome answered, nodding as she bent closer.

“Do you really wanna know?” he asked in an octave lower, and when she once more gave the affirmative, Inuyasha crooked her finger in a bid for her to come closer. She did, putting her face inches away from the bars, her eyes locked on his.

There was a pregnant pause as is gaze bore into her own, and then without warning Inuyasha grasped her chin through the bars, tugged her forward, and slammed his mouth onto hers. It was rough and careless, his lips dry against her own, and yet Kagome still felt his kiss all the way to the tip of her toes. She whimpered, her body frozen, unable to pull away.

But then it ended as quickly as it had begun and he tore his mouth away from hers.

“Then get me the hell outta here,” he growled right before the prison guards fell on him, delivering harsh blows and Kagome stumbled back with a gasp, watching in stunned silence as he attempted to fight back but to no avail.

“Do it, wench,” Inuyasha growled at her and then he was being dragged away but he wasn’t making it easy, struggling, kicking out his feet and twisting his upper body to jostle their grip on him. He endured their blows with gnashed teeth and pissed off growls, but he kept his gaze zeroed in on her until the door was slammed shut, separating them once more.

Kagome could do nothing but stare after him, mouth parted, eyes wide, and face flushed. But then evidently her senses came back to her and she gasped, gesturing to the door.

“Where are they taking him?” she demanded a little breathlessly, heart still racing in her chest.

“To be hanged,” Mukotsu answered, appearing beside her and giving her a rather dry look. “Apparently he had a very good time.”

#inuyasha mummy au #inuyasha #kagome #miroku #mukotsu #inukag #artistefish #oneshot #keizfanfiction #fanfiction #GOD THIS IS SO FUN LOL

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funkypoacher · 4 years ago

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An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose. for Vinya and Blackwall? for the 50 Types of Kisses - Writing Prompts

This prompt does not actually involve kissing--just a brushing of lips--so it was perfect for my Darkest Timeline, IE ‘Timeline 2’ (technically canon) in which Vinya is a conscripted Inquisition soldier rather than the Inquisitor. So bon appetit.

They came together like blade edges: hungry, hard, heavy with the squealing of steel, and headed down a violent road.

As Blackwall thrust—his swipe parried by a quick countermove—he realized that Vinya was sporting a new bruise on her cheek, likely riling the hothead beneath the face it discoloured, but he wasn’t about to go black-kettle calling as his own whistled in frustration.

Happy harassment nearly always narrated their impromptu sparring matches, yet, today, neither wasted breath on teasing. The Grey Warden kept his head low, teeth grit, while the Inquisition soldier hissed at something she wasn’t hitting (while hitting him square and expertly).

Gaspard had been given the keys to the Empire. It had Blackwall livid, hence the need for release. He wasn’t sure what her problem was, though.

The woman put great purpose behind her blade. Yet, overcompensating strength had the sword’s weight pulling her forward when she missed, the move surprisingly sloppy. Blackwall couldn’t help but ask.

“Everything alright?”

Turning on her heel, Vinya faced him.

“It’s—yeah. It’s just that… Discovering someone isn’t who they say they are is—it’s—ugh.”

Unable to articulate, Vinya allowed her weapon to explain. As equal muscle met with their swords playing mediator, Blackwall added a mark of exclamation to her wordless anger, shoving at her, but Vinya, solid as a rock, left him stumbling backwards.

Her might—her honor—usually did.

“Is this about the Inquisitor?” asked Blackwall.

Vinya started circling while he waited, watching.

“Isn’t it always?” Her churlish grin showed no real joy. “No, it’s actually… Nevermind. It doesn’t matter.” Easing on her stance mid-shuffle, head tilting curiously, Vinya’s arms loosened as she reprioritized her concern above their skirmishing. “Why? Is that why you’re huffing and puffing?”

Blackwall would have preferred his exasperation pummeled out of him, but he could talk, too. What bad blood had once run between them was long-ago staunched, leaving her as one of the few with whom he dared share some honesty.

“Gaspard; the Game. It disgusts me. The families hurt; the good men forced to make bad decisions. And not only was the Inquisitor complicit, she... “ Head hanging, Blackwall huffed. “C’mon.” He motioned with his sword. “Another round.”

The woman didn’t move. “What actually happened? In Orlais?”

Sheathing his weapon, Blackwall explained, lessening the distance between them with a few heavy footsteps through the grass. “The assassination—Inquisitor Trevelyan allowed it to happen. And with blackmail recovered at the palace, she put the elven ambassador—or whatever she was—in jail. Servants are being slaughtered. The alienage is being torn apart. And old loyalties are putting a lot of innocent people in danger.” He still felt his back bending with the weight of it. “Might not be Trevelyan’s decisions doing most of the butchering—I won’t give her that much credit—but, mark my words, it was her doing. It’s happening because of her.”

Vinya walked closer, drawn in by this information. “So that’s what happened. Why she—” Hand running down her face, the woman frowned. “I see.”

But Blackwall didn’t.

“What is it?”

As they stood together, with hardly a foot between them, the man sought desperately for the source of her secrecy. Not one to keep it bottled up, sincerity usually spurt out of Vinya like a tapped barrel: bubbling, foaming, maybe bitter, possibly sweet, but definitely generous. Her silence was extremely surprising.

“I can’t tell you,” Vinya admitted. “You’re too damn dutiful, or responsible. You’d…” Grinning, suddenly, with the smile of the lost and the desperate, she stared hopefully into his eyes, looking from one to the other. All those walls, save that last brick of truth, she simply let crumble. “What if I left? What if we just left? And it wasn’t because we wanted out of this place, but it was to protect someone?”

He was stunned. No matter how she hated the Inquisitor, Vinya had never hinted at defection.

“Who?” Blackwall read her features. Fierce brow; soft eyes: she was after permission, but she was determined, too. She always was. “Who’s in danger?” However, when she didn’t answer, Blackwall did. “I can’t leave, Vin. You’re right: I am too damn dutiful. I have a responsibility to the men and women who have joined under the banner of the Wardens. I may not approve of the Inquisitor’s decisions, but I have a role to play, and it’s here. For all of Trevelyan’s boot-licking of the nobility, and self-serving fear mongering, she’s the only one who can stop Corypheus.”

Vinya’s shoulders fell. He could see the words repeating in her mind. “A role to play, hm? Sounds a little like the Game.” Burnishing out the edges of her insult with a grin, the woman sighed. “Alright. Consider it dropped.”

A quiet moment flowered with intensity, and spite. It wasn’t aimed at him, he was sure of it, but that’s where it hit.

Reaching for the hilt of Blackwall’s sword, she took it in her palm. Vinya leaned closer, pulling the blade a few inches from its sheath. “You want to stick around, taking crap orders that drive you either to the bar, or here, every evening? You go ahead.”

Blackwall’s hand wrapped around the wrist which held his hilt, and he clutched it tight. “Here’s not so bad,” he rumbled.

As Vinya attempted to take his weapon in some act of dismantling, Blackwall pulled at her wrist. They both attempted to get their own way, but it was short-lived—too quick to call it a tussle. As Blackwall pulled, Vinya either lost her balance or let him have it, but, either way, she jostled nearer, her lips brushing his.

Soft, and fleeting, it could have been forgotten; a mistake out of their minds within the next minute. But Vinya leaned in, her nose tip grazing his, her mouth skimming his again, causing both of them to gasp at the same bit of air.

A distant crashing of something non-specific broke the spell. Vinya tore herself away, arms up, stretching nonchalantly.

“By the Dread Wolf’s dangleberries!” she cried, laughing as though it were a joke.

And now Blackwall had other frustrations to work through.

#blackwall/lavellan #blackwall #dragon age #my writing #Timeline II #Slumber'sLeveragedHand #mywriting

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your-shield-of-love · 5 years ago

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Decided to continue a little, kinda enjoying this idea ^3^

This is part 2 of this short fanfiction series. Enjoy x3

~~~~~~

Since their talk, Varric and the Inquisitor became closer, chatting more often. Varric knew only to bring up Hawke and Warden related things when the pair were alone, though Cole has jumped in every once in a while.

It seemed that the Inquisitor could open up more than before, explaining like they had few options of what they could say but now could say anything. They're not sure that's a good thing honestly but at least the choice is there.

They stopped flirting with *love interest* which has put a strain on their relationship but at least they could still talk with each other.

Varric noticed they were more expressive compared to before and giggled more often. When they were out on some job or quest, the two didn't leave each others side for too long.

The other companions quickly noticed the difference in their relationship, seeing their Inquisitor relax, seeming to become more themselves and less like just the Inquisitor. Iron Bull was one of the first to notice and was happy they relaxed a bit, Sera also was happy they had a sense of humour and hijinks, willing to do small pranks and said something along the lines of,

"Showing yourself to get the lil guys comfortable. Good."

There was one person who had opinions on their friendship and noticed something Varric had stopped talking about.

The Inquisitor, Varric, Dorian and Cassandra were out for a week at the Hinterlands, currently camped near the top of a mountain with a wide view of the entire Hinterlands. Dorian was already in his tent, having some rest after a long day of using a lot of mana. The Inquisitor sat at the edge at the top of a waterfall, sitting on some non wet rocks fyi. Varric sat nearby, his feet resting in the river, while reading. Cassandra approached the two, wearing clothes suitable for sleeping in while wearing a warm jacket over it. She sat beside Varric, a bit behind the Inquisitor and started, "Varric? Inquisitor? May I talk with you both?"

Varric, without raising his head replied, "I doubt we could stop you, Seeker." The Inquisitor laughs softly, Varric smiling in return, his eyes still not leaving the book he read.

Cassandra coughs, "Well I wanted to discuss ... your relationship with the Inquisitor." Tension grew in the air, "It is good that you, Inquisitor seem more relaxed and are still able to lead, however I have my worries."

Inquisitor turns to Cassandra and says, "Don't you always?" Quickly followed with, "Please, speak your mind, Cassandra." They smiled at Cassandra and before Varric could say anything,

"Thank you, Inquisitor." Cassandra stares at the Inquisitor, "I've known Varric since Kirkwall. I know him better now, working alongside him on these missions. And there is something I've noticed, despite it being his most defining trait. Varric no longer - or very rarely speaks of the Champion." The Inquisitor turns away, "I was wondering, are you two... what Hawke and Varric were?"

Varric eyes Cassandra, "What would that he, Seeker?"

Cassandra sighs and turns to Varric, "I know you are - or at least were - best friends, however Cullen has mentioned you seem to have a similar relationship that you had with Hawke. That is what I wanted... to confirm." She pauses for a moment before looking assertive, or sure of what she was going to say, "I do not know what *kind* of relationship you and Hawke shared but I am wondering what relationship you and the Inquisitor have."

The Inquisitor looks down, hiding their blush from Cassandra and before they can say anything, "Seeker. The only one for me is Bianca," he says stroking his weapon who lay beside him. "I thought you knew." He said with a teasing tone.

"Varric!" Cassandra exclaims, "I am being serious. We need to know what relationships the Inquisitor is-"

"Cassandra?" The Inquisitor interrupted, turning to her, blushing with embarrassment. "It's not like that and anyway, if I had to romance anyone... it would be Bianca every time." They laughed, making Cassandra 'ugh' and feel 10x more tired. She got up and left for bed, "Night, Cass!"

Varric sat beside Inquisitor, watching them swinging their legs. Varric joins in, still not wearing his socks and shoes, making the Inquisitor giggle, a small smirk growing on their face. "You have long toes." Varric said, not realising they had taken their shoes and socks off earlier.

The Inquisitor giggled shyly, "Yeah, I've been told they are regal looking." They laughed, Varic laughing slightly. "I'm being serious. I've literally been told that by someone. I wasn't sure what to say, haha."

Varric blinked, "Don't mind what she said, the Seeker I mean."

"I'm not." They said quickly, staring at the stars, "No offense to Cassandra, she can both see things that aren't there and see things that are there."

"So which did she see?" Varric mumbled out loud, not thinking before he spoke.

They looked at Varric from the corner of their eyes, "I'm... not sure yet." A silence fell between them, quickly followed by, "Though I think the ending where I run off with Bianca seems the most plausible." The laugh, grinning at Varric, "Would Bianca take my hand in marriage?"

Varric let's out a hearty laugh, "She's already engaged. Mostly in combat." They scoff and nudge Varric,

"Don't let Cass worry you. She likes to have as many answers as she can. And with the mystery behind the Seekers, the Wardens and whatever else, I think she just wants to know things." The Inquisitor noted, "She means well."

Varric nodded, staring at the Inquisitor. "Bubbles."

The Inquisitor turns to him, "Hm?"

"Your nickname. Bubbles suits you." He smirked, looking at a passing cloud in the night sky.

"Huh? You- you're giving me a nickname?" They looked to their friend, mouth agape.

Varric turns to them, "Well I can't call you chuckles, it's been taken. Giggles is too similar, despite you being a giggler. Can't call you Herold anymore and... I can tell you dislike being called Inquisitor. So, Bubbles." Varric felt arms wrap around him, Bubbles' head leaning on the top of his.

"Thanks Varric." They were almost crying. Something Varric didn't intend.

He pats them on the back, "Welcome bubbles."

"Varric?" The silence of the hug had been broken.

"Yeah Bubbles?"

Bubbles raises their head, staring into Varric's eyes, slowly grinning. "I don't understand something. I've never been called ...Harold." they snort and giggle at their joke, Varric smiling but shaking his head.

"Guess the kid isn't the only one who's getting joke lessons from now on." The two laugh.

"Varric," Bubbles says with a grin, "My humour *is* bad jokes."

~~~~~

I'm addicted to this ship now. \(TT-TT)/

Please let me know what you think hahaha. I'll probably write more short fanfic stuff about dragon age.

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