#vision in my brain had to be made real IMMEDIATELY | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

t00them00n · 10 months ago

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Omg!!! I live ur writing so much! The way you write eren is like literally perfect!! I was wondering if I could request reader walking home or at a party or just like out somewhere and they notice some people making her uncomfy and they cal eren to pick them up? Some fluff and comfort are my coping mechanism 😭

LMAO STOP THE COPING MECHANISM IS SO REAL💀💀 and ofc bb thankyou so much for the request i love you😋🥰

Im just gonna work off the whole saviour dynamic w eren and hopefully u dont mind

——————

More requests/masterlist

You don’t know why you’re here, you really should’ve just stayed home if only Mikasa hadn’t dragged you out.

“Cmonnnn it’ll be fun, I promise! Even Sasha’s coming!”

You really shouldn’t have listened to her, right now she’s - God knows where - with Sasha playing some obscure drinking game while you’re here sitting on the leather couch already intoxicated yourself.

You felt gross. Sticky even from the sweaty, crowded living room, humidity suffocating you. There was about 5 people on this couch made to fit only 2, you sat there staring down at your stupid sore feet in your stupid stupid heels with stupid strangers grazing your bare legs next to you.

The noise of the room tuned out as your tipsy brain was half conscious until you were snapped back into reality feeling a creeping hand on your shoulder.

Whoever was next to you was apparently speaking for long enough that you don’t know what they’re on about, “— or we could go back to my apartment..”

Your head snaps back up and you anxiously shrug off this guys tacky hand, sobering up just a little bit. Enough to start comprehending things.

“Sorry, I have to go” you say while peeling yourself off the leather, you don’t know where you have to go you just knew to leave because clearly you weren’t functioning well alone.

You turn and almost begin walking away until you almost trip on your stupid heels, this guys hand had gripped your arm rather too harshly to pull you right back onto the couch.

“Hey we were in the middle of something” he slurs, clearly a little more intoxicated than you.

You’re still so lost, why the fuck is he still talking? Why is this room is so hot? This couch is too sticky. His breath smells like shit. Your feet hurt like shit. You’re so tired all you want to do is leave at this point. All of your senses have been overwhelmed you can’t take it.

He continues to ramble nonsense again so you settle to tune it out again, unsure if your feet have the strength to even walk away and give resistance against this random ass guy if he tries anything worse.

You pull out your phone from your unpractically tiny bag and open your messages.

23:16 — Eren

Erenb

Yes this is erenb

Can gou pixk me up

How drunk are you💀

Honestly nor that nuch this tine

Thid guys bortherijf me hurry up ples😋

This guy??

What’s going on?

Donr asknme idek myslef💀💀 hes jusr weirdinf me out

Im coming dw mika sent me the address earlier

Otw

He didn’t lie when he said he’d be quick, honestly Eren was waiting for you to return from the party. He got too bored sitting in your apartment alone watching tv.

You get a call and immediately shoot up knowing Erens arrived. You’re still too drunk to process whatever this guy was doing.

You think he’s following behind you? Who knows? You get out the front door with a cool breeze hitting you. It’s much quieter out here which would be nice if this guy wasn’t still trying to pursue you even after a good ten minutes of radio silence from you.

You feel your body sigh with relief as you spot Eren’s car, you make eye contact with him through the front window smiling. You can slightly see how he grins at your drunken walk in your painful heels until your vision spins to face the guy.

His hand was now on your shoulder and before you knew it Eren was getting out of his car. Whoever this man was he was clearly upset?? Clearly drunk and clearly mad at you. He’s rambling and you still don’t want to listen, hes saying something about you not mentioning you had a boyfriend or anything along those lines?

All you knew is that he was mad, you could feel it in his inebriated grip on your shoulder. Then you start to feel the alcohol coming back up you’re system as his other hand creeps to hold your waist. “Cmon ditch your boyfriend”

Before you can get a word of disgust out you feel familiar arms save you from this repulsive guys hold. Eren shoves his chest as he drunkenly stumbles backwards.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Eren spits out as his arm ushers you to stand a little behind him. He isn’t really one for violence when it’s a complete stranger. He has better things to do than that.

He can tell he’s drunk and after a few nonsensical sentences pour out the guys mouth; Eren’s done eyeing him down with demise so he walks you back to his car while the guy drags himself back to the party.

“Are you alright?” He questions you while rubbing his hand against your arms to warm you up as much as he can walking down the party’s front yard.

“Yeah I’m alright now at least, thank you Eren”

“That guy looked fucking homeless”

You softly smile to yourself, at ease in Eren’s presence. Half the grossness you felt in that stupid party had already began dissolving.

The drive home was quiet, calm. You were dozing off in the passenger seat while you held his free hand in you lap. His thumb swept back and forth until you arrived home. He reaches behind into the back seat, you’re too hazy to question why really. Eren bends over to take off your heels to then slide ur home slippers on.

“I don’t know why you wore those tonight, you know they hurt”

“I know right?!” You huff back at him. He laughs softly at your drunken state and gets out the car. He opens your car door to usher you out and puts his arm around you to help you walk to your apartment.

He lies you down on the couch and tells u to stay which you have no real trouble doing. He returns to the room holding one of his navy blue t-shirts and grey shorts.

“Okay baby, take off ur dress” he says gently.

“At least ask me to dinner first” you retort back. You snicker at your own joke but take off your dress all the same. He slips his shirt and shorts onto you then carries you to your bed effortlessly.

“You’re soo strong, do you have a girlfriend?” you giggle while feeling up his muscular arms. He only laughs at you and quickly leaves to grab something. He returns again, your micellar water in one hand and your toner in the other, “hey which one is the makeup thingy to take it off?” He questions, trying to communicate with whatever sober is left in you. You point to the micellar bottle and he wipes your face with it. The cool water and Eren’s delicate touch was extremely soothing. Although making you even more tired it did sober you up a little more.

Once he’s done, he puts everything down and climbs in bed next to you, pulling the blanket up, he moves you so that you’re on your side and pulls your knee toward him so that your leg is over his legs. He moves his arm to lie under your neck and pulls your whole body nearer with his free hand now on the small of your back.

You inhale deeply the scent of his chest and neck, now intoxicated by his musky scent while his hand slides up to bring your head nearer while he breathes deeply too, face shoved in the top of your head.

He moves to place a chaste kiss on your forehead.“You okay?” He asks, voice just above a whisper.

“Now I am, that guy was weird”, you murmur back still with a face full of chest.

“Yeah he was a fucking weirdo” Eren says, now speaking at a normal volume. “You’re not going alone to those parties anymore, I’m having a word with Mikasa trust”

You laugh at his seriousness and press a kiss to his collar bone, “No laughing I’m serious” he smiles, making space between you too to be able to kiss your collar bone too. He litters playful kisses on your neck. You laugh more while he roughly moves on top of you to only press more ticklish pecks all over you; intentionally smothering you.

You stop him by grabbing both sides of his head and bringing his lips to yours. You kiss him softly while he willingly returns it. He deepens the kiss with his tongue swiping your bottom lip until you open your mouth in the slightest, letting him slip it inside.

#attack on titan #eren jaeger #eren x reader #eren aot #headcanons #eren x you #bf!eren #boyfriend!eren #saviour #eren fluff #eren x reader fluff #aot fluff #comfort #eren comfort #eren x reader comfort #drunk reader #harrassment?

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ruinationz · 3 months ago

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i'm on life support after wgriting htis good god that was horrendous. 5,500+ words. finding frankie fic. we're not normal. inspired by the mountain goats song of the same name, thank you @yoursminehourss for being an inspo i love you my friend. read all of his shit NOW. ok fic under the cut. vomits

"But stars don't just leave after a season, do they...?"

They stood dead center in the middle of a darkened room, the only source of light coming from the television across. The air was thick with a sour, nauseating scent; Most likely due to the amount of dead contestants littering the floor.

Their eyes followed the tips of the red and green lines, snaking up the right edge of the television as profits and viewership skyrocketed like never before.

Green light flooded their vision as bolded letters materialize on the screen, confetti raining down from the top: "Renewed for another season".

They looked over their shoulder, rotten flesh covered in fabric crushed underfoot.

A pair of beady eyes, glistening in the shadows, met theirs.

It's only up from here.

turn the volume up real high,

all of that money, look at it fly,

and you smoking like a chimney

Henry could tell he truly was brought to life again from the dull, throbbing sensation of a headache creeping back into his head once he came to.

Oh, wasn't he just the luckiest guy in the world?

Maybe he owed some sick, twisted form of gratitude to that "lucky contestant"; They had brought the Palace back into the light, after all, getting the game show approved for a brand-new season to boot.

Alongside that, what they had in store for him in particular was downright merciful. If it were up to the higher-ups, Henry would probably have been punished beyond belief for the kind of things he'd mouthed off to a participant about. Maybe he'd be replaced entirely as a mascot! (And if they really wanted to make him suffer, they'd switch him out with those wretched red things that only scream and explode, not too different from what they did to-)

But that contestant? Well, they did the exact opposite of that.

...

...To be fair, the contestant didn't really do anything to Henry, positively or negatively. He only saw them once he regained consciousness in the storage room (presumably they were working to assist in his repairation), and otherwise they spent most of their time doing god-knows-what somewhere far, far away from all the other mascots.

What was it that made them avoid everyone, exactly? Was it fear? (He had chased them down at least twice, after all; Though he thought they might have liked him a bit better when he returned Deputy, albeit mangled, to them...) Or...

Was it a sense of superiority?

The thought made Henry's (fake) blood boil a bit. Were they truly self-centered enough to be that easy to persuade? He'd taken the less-fortunate contestants to be nothing but idiotic before, but the winner? Anyone with half a brain would've taken the money and ran far from the Parkour Palace, not be gullible enough to agree to being the big "star of the show", thinking they're hot shit and letting themselves get used by-

BRRRRRRRINGGGGG!

Henry hissed at the shrill sound stabbing through his nonexistent ears, gripping the sides of his head immediately as the rattling of the incoming call reverberated through his neck.

If that blind fool was going to bring him back for another season, they could've at least made this idiotic fully-functionable telephone a little less physically unbearable to have for a cranium. He wrapped his fingers around the headset, seizing it from the switch-hook and pressing it closer to his face.

"...Hello?" He rasped out, making an attempt to mask the strain in his voice as much as possible.

"Yes, hello? Is this a Mr. 'Henry Hotline' speaking?"

His heart sank at the all-too familiar voice coming from the receiver. "Speak of the devil and he shall appear," I suppose, he thought to himself, muttering a curse under his breath.

The Other laughed on his end. "It's been a hot minute, my call-up companion! I do hope I'm not interrupting anything you're doing, hmm?"

What Henry wanted to say was "Yes, I'm busy trying to have a moment of peace for once in my life after the higher-ups decided to blow my brains up, so why don't you go and buzz off you buck-toothed bastard," but he was forced to hold back; If he hadn't received a punishment now, that would certainly be the final straw to grant him one.

"I'll assume that's a 'no' on your part," Perhaps the phone paused to find a more appropriate response a bit too long, prompting the Other's voice to buzz through the speaker once more.

"...I...Is there anything you need, sir?" He twisted the cord around his fingers, a nervous subconscious motion, as he spoke.

"Oh, anything I 'need', you say?" A pause.

"Well, I may or may not need you in my offices at the moment. If, of course, it's not much trouble!"

Henry would have expressed his disdain at those words if he wasn't aware of the constant surveillance cameras lurking in every corner. He knew the Other's little empty gestures far too well: He'd give you an option to do something, when in reality you never had a choice to begin with.

It was better to go along with the game he wanted to play.

The phone balled up his free hand, pulling on the cord and adding a further strain to the cable attaching his dangling head to his body. "Y-Yes, sir, I'll... I'll be right there."

"FANTASTIC!" Henry flinched as the Other's voice reached a completely-innappropriate-for-inside level. "Let me fetch you an elevator to the utilidors, and you'll be there in a jiffy. See you soon!"

"But- But wait, what exactly do you-"

The line went dead with a quiet beep beep beep before Henry could finish speaking. Sluggishly, he hung up the receiver as he made his way into the elevator that had opened up somewhere in his peripheral vision.

Whatever that rabbit wanted with him now, it better have been worthwhile.

So much for being there in a "jiffy".

Thank goodness that he hadn't ended up across the railings, but Henry wished that the elevators at least landed on the same level as the Intercom; A few sets of stairs would have been easy for anyone else to ascend without a head that felt like it weighed 2 tons on their shoulders.

Knees still crying out in pain from all of the effort, he trudged down the corridor and turned the corner, swinging his head into the doorway of the room where the Other resided.

The rabbit was sitting in one of the many plastic chairs they had lying around somewhere in the storages, knees raised high and body hunched over in an attempt to sit at the level of the piece of furniture; A laughable sight, but granted, these chairs were meant to be used by a small child and not a massive mechanical lagomorph.

His attention was focused on a CRT television before him, removed from its initial location on the wall of security footage and placed in the center of the desk instead. Shifting colors illuminated the rabbit's face in the dimmed room, the pearly-white sheen of plastic teeth reflected in the light.

The Other must have eventually noticed Henry in the doorway, neck of metal coils swiveling with a creak to meet his gaze. An equally springy arm raised, the remote in its grip pausing the TV with a click.

A minute of deafening silence, perhaps two or three, passed between them.

It was an odd quirk the Other had, staring someone down like that; Was it because of how small his eyes were, or was it simply for the dramatics? Henry assumed the latter, though the former didn't seem so unlikely.

...

"HENRY HOTLINE!" The rabbit finally exclaimed, voice booming through the small room as he clapped his gloved hands together in what Henry took to be joy. "What an absolute delight it is to see you! I've been-"

"Could you get to the point, please?"

A pause. The Other's everlasting grin seemed to falter a bit, and Henry mentally berated himself for even speaking out at all. But the former didn't seem to pay much mind, perking up as he broke through the silence once more.

"Ah, yes!" He chirped, turning his attention to the television in front of him.

"Well, I thought it'd be pleasant for the both of us if we had a bit of...'downtime', if you could call it that! After all, I'm sure you and Frankie are just tuckered out from all the preparation for our brand-new season!"

The Other reached a coiled arm back, taking a hold of a plastic chair similar to that of the one he was sitting upon and slowly dragged it to his side, placing it upright and clasping his hands around the remote on his lap.

...Seriously?

What was he even doing? If that freak wanted to watch television together, he could've just said so, instead of building it up like it was some kind of suspenseful, mysterious thing.

...

The Other patted the seat next to him with an oversized hand, a hint of insistence in the motion.

...Well, it's not like Henry had anything else to do.

Or that he could say "no", for that matter.

The robotic rabbit's ears raised a bit as Henry made his way toward the chair, the childish piece of furniture creaking under his weight as he slowly sat himself down. A cover to something in the corner of his eye caught the phone's attention-

...Ah, it was one of those.

The company behind them all, of course, did other things besides running a gore-y abomination of a game show; Toys, movies, cartoons and god knows what else were promoted nearly everywhere around the Parkour Palace. They gloated often, signage everywhere always claiming how successful they were as the "World's Largest" in practically everything.

If that truly was the case, why were they struggling with bankruptcy to the point of livestreamed murder?

Another click of the remote brought Henry back to the present. He rested his hands on his head and peered closer at the TV, making an attempt in adjusting his vision—long-used to the dark of his areas—to the program before him.

Eye-straining technicolor hues lit up the room around the two: Frankie's cartoon show, one season out of the many that they'd produced when a Mr. "Stan Ellie" still had a hold of the brand—Or so he heard, from hushed conversations behind closed doors.

From what the phone could gather within the episode displayed before them, the cartoon counterparts of him and Frankie had an argument over who was the superior entertainer out of the two, and the rest of the episode's plot mainly consisted of the duo attempting to out-do each other in every way possible; A shallow and silly conflict, created to be entertaining yet simple enough for a child's mind to comprehend.

A minute dribbled away, maybe more, as the cartoonish antics played out before him...

"This is one of my favorite parts that's coming up."

Henry realized he'd been nodding off for most of the episode's duration when the Other leaned in close to his head to whisper to him, forcing his attention back to the television.

"Oh Frankie, what a fool I've been!"

Now both of the animated mascots were together on a stage, in complete shambles thanks to what Henry assumed to be one comical competition too many.

"I'm terribly sorry, Frankie. I spent all my time trying to upstage you, and now BOTH of our shows are ruined! Could you ever forgive me for this?"

The cartoon phone looked downright ashamed, but Frankie didn't appear to pay much mind.

"Aw, Henry, of COURSE I'd forgive you! In fact, I should probably be the one asking you the same."

"...Really?"

"Well, of course! I shouldn't have been hot-headed enough to bet on eachother in the first place. Our friendship is way more important than some silly competition!"

No one as stubborn as these characters had been prior would ever admit they were at fault in real-life, but the conflict needed to be forgotten by the next episode to keep the show interesting.

But somehow, in some way, Henry found himself more drawn to the television than ever as the animated rabbit continued.

"So, what d'ya say, Henry? Let bygones be bygones and still be friends?"

The animated rabbit looked at the phone expectantly with open arms. Silence, until the latter broke into a grin.

"...Well, I don't see why I'd say otherwise."

The two characters hugged each-other, a simple resolution made to warm the heart and make way for another episode, where it would be completely forgotten in favor for another set of antics.

Henry leaned closer to the television. His eyes locked in, onto the rabbit nuzzling himself into his cartoon counterpart's chest with a smile. Onto that sickeningly sweet display, before it blinked to darkness and back to the credits sequence.

The thump-thump-thumping cadence against his chest synched with that of the throbbing in his head.

He shot up out of his seat, despite the protesting of his legs, already sore from earlier.

"I-I—" Henry's words caught in his throat as he attempted to suppress his shaking, only worsened by how the Other slowly turned to look him in the eye.

"—I need to excuse myself for a moment, please."

Perhaps the Other was saying something to the phone when he stumbled through the doorway, but it was drowned out by his footsteps echoing through the hallway as he took himself far, far, far away from the Utilidors.

"Ah! Henry, you'll miss..."

The Other found himself trailing off, hearing Henry's stomping grow fainter and fainter down the halls.

Silence.

He sighed, pausing the television and drawing his attention to the security footage before him, then to the microphone of the intercom.

Seemed like it was time to trade out shifts for the night.

Eventually, his body couldn't take the strain of travel any longer. Henry found himself falling to a carpeted floor, chest heaving with uneven breath.

As he dragged himself toward a wall, scrubbed clean of the mural he'd scrawled on in oxidized blood before, he looked up at the cartoon visage of himself printed across every inch of the room.

He was surrounded by a reflection of something- No, someone he was meant to be before all of this. The ideal of someone who was happier than him. Someone who still had everything he wanted and deserved in life.

Someone who still had his best friend.

Tucking his knees to his chest, Henry put his head in his hands.

And for the first time, in what seemed like ages, he cried.

Alone.

shadows crawled across the living room's length,

i held on to you with a desperate strength,

with everything, with everything in me

It wasn't supposed to go this way.

When the licks of the incinerator's flames dissolved into an eerie ice-cold numbness, when the power began to surge through every circuit in his body again, when his senses returned, vision locking itself onto the visage of the fleshy face of a contestant, that was the first thing that Frankie had concluded to himself.

And he hated it.

Ever since the show started broadcasting, a simple set of rules was enforced, always playing out at Frankie's advantage: If the contestants ever got cocky and decided to try and cheat, he would come in and make sure they were put in their place. It was just routine.

And Frankie? He loved routine.

That was the only thing he could genuinely like in the Parkour Palace.

Doing what he did, of course, would always result in a death or two—But who really cared? He'd show up, make a scene, cause some scares and shed some blood. Maybe get a snack out of it, too. That's what he was made for. That's how it was supposed to go.

Frankie was the villain. The poster-boy. The big bad.

The star of the show.

...

And then, after 57 long (short was a better word for them) seasons, someone won for once.

And his little routine was torn to shreds right in front of his eyes.

Suddenly, he wasn't allowed to catch and kill that "Lucky Contestant", when it was perfectly fine to hunt them down before they won. Suddenly, they were with the big-bosses at the forefront of hush-hush conversations about "funding" and "budget" and how they would be working in the next season.

Suddenly, that cheater was the star now.

It wasn't fair.

Not at all.

It was called Frankie's Parkour Palace. It was Frankie's cereal, Frankie's this, Frankie's that, Frankie's EVERYTHING! Everything in that place was all his! He was in charge, not them!

But here he was, slouching on the seat of some stupid couch while the Lucky Contestant sat across from him.

Frankie forgot why he was even here, or what room this was supposed to be in the first place. It was probably some crappy fancy-schmancy lounge, for the higher-ups to hang out in and supervise everything. The only thing he did know was that it reeked of cigar smoke, emanating from that of one in the Contestant's hand.

Little Lucky Contestant, their shining star, their golden goose, all dressed up in the same suit as before. Though of course they had to be as decorated as possible, wearing some kind of magician's outfit instead of the regular garb. Probably the big-bosses' idea.

He watched them tuck the cigar under their mask, taking it away as a smoke ring crept from underneath with a light exhale before it dissipated mid-air.

"...So, did you catch all that?"

Oh right, they were actually saying something before.

"Alright, I guess not? Wouldn't hurt to repeat it, I suppose."

Smartass.

Frankie grumbled and sank further into his seat, the Contestant pulling up some kind of display on a newly-repaired Deputy Duck. Red and green lines, a bunch of numbers he didn't know or care about. They went on about some kind of 'game plan' for this year's season, stupid limitations he already knew about, technical terms he didn't want to bother with.

"—Now, I've been watching you guys for a while, and I know this is a lot different than what the show usually does. But, hear me out on this. Me and Frankie—"

Frankie's head shot up at his name. He savored the Contestant's discomfort—Apparent, despite their face still being concealed by a mask, just lifted out enough at the bottom for them to speak and smoke.

"...Oh, right. I meant the, um...the other Frankie."

A pause. Their head shifted from side to side. "...The real Frankie."

The sneer on the rabbit's face faded immediately. All joy that he felt from the situation had dissolved, leaving a new sensation in its wake.

Anger.

The real Frankie? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Of COURSE he was real! Was that little cheater trying to imply he was some fake?

Bullshit. If anyone around here was fake, it was that freak wearing his own face.

The Other.

The Other was supposed to be just that: Lesser than, an "other", a byproduct. The creep wasn't even supposed to do or mean anything; All he existed for was to just be some announcer for the show, a narrator for the contestants' ultimate demises. Last-minute they slapped a nasty old suit on him, shoved him in the Utilidors and said he was 'another' of him just to get more attention and drag their show out of bankruptcy.

But out of the blue, that smiling bastard—someone who was supposed to be cut out entirely after the last season, at least from what he'd heard—had the audacity to think he was superior? The audacity to talk like he was one of the higher-ups? To talk to the player, drag them into this show and ruin everything Frankie had?

The audacity, to make himself out like he was the "real" one?

That wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair. None of this was fair. This wasn't how the rules were supposed to go, not at all, he hated them all and how they came in and changed everything and ruined everything he had and they messed up his game show messed everything up and he was just so FUCKING ANGRY-

And everything boiled over.

In one swift motion, Frankie struck the Contestant in mid-smoke with his hand, the cigar and Deputy clattering onto the floor. He flipped the table over, the contents of the ashtray scattering everywhere like acrid-smelling snow. Then he kicked the objects to the wall. Stomped them a bit for good measure, but the stupid duck barely got scratched. Great, they poured money into upgrades for that thing too.

Now the rabbit's head swiveled around and he was cursing at them, screaming over the sound of their coughs. He didn't care if his words were coherent or not, voice broken and not used to speaking, as long as it got the point across to that cheater. He wanted to spite them, get them mad, spill his guts and show them how badly they screwed his life over.

Did that fraud really think they were all high and mighty just because they won? Yeah, right. When the higher-ups had another star in their clutches they'd throw them right back to the side, just like they did to him. They were just as fucked as everyone else was.

Frankie hated the Contestant, and he sure as hell hoped they hated him back as he turned his back to them, slamming the door open and stomping away.

The higher-ups are probably going to get after me for breaking their rules.

So, what? Who cared what the higher-ups thought? If they were gonna get so mad at Frankie for playing by the "brute" role, maybe they shouldn't have given it to him in the first place.

They always had something to complain about with him. It was always something, like "Oooooh, Frankie, don't dooooo that, that's not in the scriiiiiiptttt," or some other excuse to limit what he did. That, or they thought he was too dumb to listen to anything.

Well, if the bosses thought Frankie was dumb, he was gonna think they were dumb right back. He didn't need them anyway. All a bunch of morons, never taking him seriously and never letting him—

The rabbit's thoughts were cut short as he slammed face-first into the grate of a vent, unceremoniously tumbling out and falling onto a carpeted floor.

...

As Frankie sat himself up and slowly began to untangle the metal coils making up his limbs, the fire coursing through his core started to fizzle out, a chilling sensation arriving in its wake.

He knew what that meant all too well, and he despised it. The rage in his gut was going to be replaced with a cold hard lump, all the strength would fade from his body and leave him feeling crushed, and he'd start having second thoughts and second glances, and—

—No, he wasn't about to let that happen. He needed to hold onto what he had now. He needed to think something, do something to keep the fire going. Light it up. Pour some gas on. Let the flames spread farther and farther, so by the time it's all over he won't feel anything at all. Not like he wasn't used to it after-

And ears perking up, a sound caught his attention.

Looks like he wasn't alone.

The rabbit tugged himself up from the ground. Maybe it was one of those "Noob Noobs". He sure could use one of those as a chew-toy, he needed something to sink his teeth into. They were pretty much an infestation at this point, so what would one less in the Parkour Palace hurt?

And the farther and farther that he stomped away from the vents to the source of all the noise...

...

...The more and more it began to sound like static in his head, a familiar tone of voice.

Huh, so that's what it was.

Frankie rarely saw anyone crying in the Parkour Palace. Maybe he did, at least a few times during the season's run; Typically it was one of the contestants, hopeless and afraid, hunched over in some corner somewhere completely vulnerable and ripe for the picking. But aside from that, he'd never really seen anyone doing it after-hours.

Let alone when it was one of the other mascots.

Frankie didn't exactly know what Henry's role was supposed to be in the game show. He did know he was popular—definitely not as popular as the rabbit was, but enough for him to be an audience favorite and keep himself on for another season.

Maybe it was his mascot counterpart that made him so well-liked; All the artwork around the Palace showed him as a charming, charismatic character, constantly smirking or smiling for the chat to lose its mind.

But Henry wasn't smiling now.

The humanoid phone was leaned on the wall across from Frankie, legs tucked to his chest and head in his hands as his shoulders shook with each sob.

The rabbit felt his body step forward on its own accord. Despite their ability to add blood to the mascots, the higher-ups hadn't installed any fake tears for them; That explained how dry Henry's face was, when he looked up at the sound of Frankie's foot coming in contact with the carpet.

"F-FRANKIE!" He exclaimed, stumbling up from the ground and backing further into the wall.

"I-I'm...I really am sorry! I was just... um..."

...

Frankie blinked, observing the phone as he shrank beneath his presence, his stammering devolving into nonsense before trailing off.

The silence was deafening.

Henry must have concluded that Frankie wasn't doing anything to him—not like he could in the first place, it felt like he was standing in quicksand—as he slumped forward, re-assuming his position on the wall as he curled into himself again.

Slowly, one foot in front of the other, Frankie crept towards Henry's side, sitting down on the carpet to meet his level. He silently observed him, ears twitching as he heard the phone's whimpers resume.

The one thing that Frankie genuinely liked was routine.

But there was something else that he liked, too—and it was a confusing thing, rattled his body down to its very core with an unfamiliar warmth. It was something that twisted in his chest, flashing an idea in the back of his mind.

...No, he couldn't do that.

Why did he feel so conflicted about this? Why was he so drawn towards the situation? That wasn't in-character for him. That wasn't how it was supposed to go. But then again: he was the one who was mad at the higher-ups, so why did he have to stop himself to comply with their rules?

Frankie flexed his claws, mind racing with his mental debate with himself, until he finally let out a low, heavy sigh.

He'd made up his mind.

It took Henry a moment to register it all.

Somehow, Frankie had made the decision to rest his head on top of his, coiled arms wrapping themselves around his center. The metal was ice-cold to the touch, but in an... almost grounding sense.

...But why?

Why would Frankie do this at all? He could have chosen to do anything else with Henry, maybe drag him back to the Other for what he'd done. He could have left him.

So why would he decide to stay with him instead?

Henry just didn't know how to react. All he could do was cry harder, gripping onto the springs draped around his body with all he could as the rabbit pressed further into him.

Whatever reason that Frankie had to stay, he just hoped it would let him do it for just a moment longer.

and i handed you a drink of the lovely little thing

on which our survival depends

people say friends don't destroy one another;

what do they know about friends?

Lounging around on a couch was certainly different when it wasn't in the Contestant's old dingy apartment.

Everything was a lot more different, really, at least to them; Like smoking, but now they were doing it with some fancy cigars hailing from Cuba instead of cheap, crappy packs of cigarettes from the gas station that they'd burn through.

Said cigar was currently on the floor along with the table, as well as Deputy, who was currently kicking his legs and squawking as he struggled to get himself right-side up.

The Contestant sighed, grabbing Deputy from the floor and brushing the residue from the ashtray off of his screen. He gave a small qua-quack in what they took as gratitude. They didn't speak duck, after all.

Maybe I struck some kind of chord with that other Frankie, they thought, putting a hand to their throat that still stung with the bitter aftertaste of tobacco.

Before the Contestant could contemplate further the intercoms above buzzed to life, sending a jolt of shock through their body as a voice cut through the fizzling static.

"LUCKY CONTESTANT!"

Oh. It was just Frankie. They relaxed their shoulders, tilting their focus to the speakers above as the voice continued on.

It was a routine they were well-adjusted to by this point. To try and even up the workload of preparing for the new season, them and Frankie would split up their workload through shifts. He'd do surveillance around the Parkour Palace, the Contestant would do some of the financial stuff around it, and vice-versa when the time came to trade things out.

In this case, it was the latter's turn to watch over the cameras for the night. Deputy Duck tilted his head to look up at them as they made their way to the elevators that had already opened up nearby, the door closing behind the two.

"There you are, my Lucky Contestant!"

Frankie had reached a gloved hand out to pat the Contestant on the head in greeting. They readjusted their mask once he'd finally let go, straightening their posture as they stood before him.

"Good to see you too, Frank."

The rest continued like it always did. Frankie slipped through the doorway with a "Good luck, and good night!", leaving the Contestant to their own devices in the Intercom Room. They scooted a plastic chair (was there always two of them in there?) towards the CCTV footage, placing Deputy on the desk beside them as they watched through the cameras.

"Back to the old night shift. Right, Deputy?" They mumbled, petting the duck on his plastic head.

Quack.

"Yeah, me too."

The only thing they had to worry about was eyestrain, given they did this whole gig for hours on end. Then again, it wasn't too hard to pass the time; they were pretty used to keeping themselves awake for a long while. Sucked that things were uneventful for the most part, though, but at least it was an easy job.

...

...And then, they saw something out of the corner of their eye. They leaned closer into one of the screens, trying to track whatever movement they picked up on...

Huh, you don't see that every day.

One of the only interactions that the Contestant had seen between Henry and 'Frankie' had given the idea that the two weren't on the best of terms. So naturally, the last thing they expected to be seeing on the security cameras were the two holding onto one another, leaned on one of the walls in Connections.

They broke away from each other, Henry's head bobbing slightly as he supposedly spoke to the robotic rabbit. Was he laughing a bit? Given the lack of audio from the televisions, it was impossible to tell anything that was going on.

The Contestant watched Henry get up and walk away from the wall, Frankie dragging himself behind him and out of the camera's view.

They leaned back in their seat, tilting their head up to look at the ceiling above them.

The sound of white noise emanating from the televisions felt a bit louder in their head than it did before.

thunder clouds forming, cream white moon

everything's gonna be okay soon

maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day

And the Other made his way through the Utilidors, the memory of every prior event replaced by a plan for the next day's preparation for the season somewhere in his mind,

carried you up the stairs that night

all this could be yours if the price is right

i heard cars headed down to oblivion up on the expressway

And Frankie and Henry both went their separate ways for the night, silently wondering if the other would remember what had happened by the time morning came,

your drunken kiss is as light as the air

maybe everything that falls down eventually rises

And Deputy tilted his head to the side as he watched the Contestant with confusion, wishing he had the voice to ask what exactly they had seen,

our house sinking into disrepair

And, deep down, it began to dawn on the Contestant that maybe they hadn't earned anything at all—

ah, but look at this showroom, filled with fabulous prizes

#finding frankie #frankie the magician rabbit #henry hotline #deputy duck #noob noob #the other frankie #the contestant #lucky contestant #frankline #bunnybank #BOTH UP TO INTERP BTW. PLATONIC OR ROMANTIC IDC #flippy.txt

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dozing-marshmallow · 23 days ago

Text

OTHER FRANKIE COMFORTING READER AFTER BAD DREAM ONE SHOT

You woke up in boiling sweat. You were back on the bed. The room was still veiled in darkness. It’s so stuffy.

“Ahhh.... Huuuu... Ahhh...” it was another dream. A silly dream. A silly bad dream. It’s not real. It wasn’t real.

Your hand reaches your eyes- ah, you’re crying again.

“Contestant? You’ve woken up early!” Frankie’s voice chimed through the darkness, establishing his consciousness, next to you.

You turned your shivering spine on him, trying to seal your cries.

“Contestant?” you seized all breath when a spider-like hand locked onto each side of your head, forcing it to rotate back. His other hand must have been on the light switch because a flash from the lightbulb above killed the darkness, revealing the fluster of embarrassment and upset on your features. Concerned by this, Frankie took his hand off your head,“Oh no! It appears this wasn’t a voluntary awakening! What are these tears for?”

Still weeping with an irregular breath, you pulled yourself up in a sitting position, your vision poorly pointed down on your lap. For some reason, Frankie’s concern weakened your hold on composure, totally different from what you’re used to hearing at home. You hadn’t responded, using the moment to harshly rub your eyes and slide your hand under your nose.

The rabbit’s care broadened,“No no, don’t use your hand, here!” he handed you a handkerchief.

“T-Thank you...” you took it, trapping your nostrils in the narrow pinch to drive the mucus out. Cooling freedom overcame your senses, now dabbing the corners of the handkerchief against your eyelids,“Sorry... uh...” you clear your throat, while happy you could talk, the sound was raspy,“I...had a bad dream.”

It sounded childish when you say it aloud. Most people grow out of having nightmares before they reach puberty, (Y/N),this needs to stop. What morphed your internal self depreciation into confusion was when that was nowhere reflected in Frankie’s response,“A bad dream? What do you mean? If there’s something you want, it’s never bad! You just need to believe in yourself and go for it!”

“No... Not that kind of dream... I mean, like... Uh...” you took a deep inhale,“It’s uh... You know when you’re asleep and you see or hear stuff that isn’t real? Just happening in your brain?”

“Oh! Yes, I know what you’re talking about now, contestant!” he nodded curiously,“I apologise, I’ve been so adapted to the second definition of that pretty word, I forgot about the other! I didn’t know they could be bad... Did someone slap you in the dream?”

“No...”

“Did you fall down in the dream?”

“No!”

“Then...?”

You sniffled, your sweat still agitated to fry you,“I...had a dream where I was running. I was terrified, using all my strength to just run from the snarling I heard after me. I couldn’t outrun it...” another bubble of anguish softly cuts your cheek,”Then... When it caught me, I was back in my parents’ house. It was silent, I thought I was by myself... But when a glass cup smashed on the floor, from out of nowhere, I...” you were shaking more visibly,“Heard...m-my mother screaming my name.”

“Oh!” he didn’t know this vividness was possible,“Aw I see, dear contestant, you’re crying because you miss he-“

“No no no!” you immediately refuted, the misconception hurt so much, your normal voice jumped back,“I don’t miss her, I don’t miss any of them! She alongside the rest of my family made taking care of me feel like a burden! All they ever cared about was putting me down for anything I did! They were never happy with me...” your slippery hand grabbed the blanket,“They’re why I entered the gameshow. With that amount of money, I could move to another state and cut them off.”

“I see...” Frankie remembered that small apartment you lived in was owned by your parents, but didn’t bother to look into the type of relationship you had with them. Personally, he was impressed you had managed to get this far without murdering them, because hah, he would have if he was in your place,“Do you uh...hm...is there anything I can do?”

You blew your nose again, your frustration passing without the glass of your past,“Just tell me it’s over... That I never need to go back... That I never have to see them again.”

“That’s all? I can do that for you, contestant!” Frankie affirmed,“It’s over, you never need to go back and you never have to see your family again.”

It was kinda working,“Again.”

“Again?” Frankie repeated puzzled,“Is once not enough?”

You shake your head.

“Oh, your kind is so emotional!” he exclaimed, not in a mean way, lifting your disturbed body and setting you up high on his chest, your head quick to rest on his shoulder. His hands were nets, holding you up,“But it can’t be helped, it’s how you’re built.”

The embrace wasn’t what you had in mind, but you stayed. It felt right. Almost like, a part of yourself whose body absorbed so much ill-shaped criticism was now greeted by care, locking in smoothly with that missing piece. You wanted to believe that it was over. That not everything was your fault. That you were enough.

Maybe you cried again, but a different emotion stroked your cheek this time. It was okay to accept help after all,“There there, contestant.” Frankie voiced, holding you close for a few more moments until you had stopped trembling,“Better?”

“Better...” you had completely forgotten about the startling event your mind forced you into,“Thank you.”

“Happy to make you happy!” he replied back, politely as usual, still holding you,“So uh, now that you and I are awake, why don’t we have an early breakfast?”

“How early is it...?”

He creaked his head to the clock on the wall, reading 4:54. Ataraxy. The nightmare was over.

#finding frankie #other frankie #real frankie #the other frankie #finding frankie game #the real frankie #finding frankie the real frankie #the real frankie x reader #finding frankie the other frankie #finding frankie the other frankie x reader #the other frankie x reader #finding frankie fanfiction #finding frankie fanfic

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candy-floss-consumer · 5 months ago

Text

Hello every-sprout! My most recent event!fic was supposed to be my last one of the year, but when @zelda-the-sacred-realm announced an artist/writer event for their wonderful comic, I really couldn’t resist!

My event piece is based largely on the presently available chapters of the comic. I saw the weeping goddess statue in Chapter 2, Part 7 and the writing creature in my brain immediately began frothing at the mouth. This short story takes place shortly before the beginning of the main comic, with a lot of foreshadowing toward certain parts of said comic.

I know there is a lot of available information, but I wrote most of this before remembering that the archive existed, haha. (I did take a peak at the post of how ToTK may affect the story, though, given that I chose dondons as their ranch animal of choice.)

*As a note, as there are sentient Lizalfos seen in Chapter 2, Part 5, I played with the idea of different, kinder Lizalfolk who have no desire to be manipulated by the cycle of darkness.

I sincerely hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Looking forward to how the rest of the Sacred Realm legend plays out! Much love 💕

SUMMARY:

Goddess Hylia has shed her tears for many of her children. The Goddess statues dotting Hyrule’s vast landscape and the statuettes held in many hands bring those tears into the mortal realm in order to heal wounds. According to legend, only the pleas of the righteous can bring them forth. But unknown to all, now that her powers have waned, only a Spirit of the Hero can reach her.

Still, the Goddess has other ways to help her people.

[Submission under the cut:]

a bit of warmth to you

a Zelda: The Sacred Realm Event!fic

The tears of the Goddess had always been known to heal. Brought into the mortal realm by the statues made in her image, the myths surrounding the miraculous substance were nigh infinite. Fables that—in ancient times—ensured that any traveller with a shred of faith kept a statuette on their person. For safety. For assurance. For the day that they were brought to their knees.

Or worse.

Pala’s great-grandma still kept one in her pocket on rainy days. On the desolate nights that her mother, Great-Great Grandma Cala, had marked the old cycle of the Blood Moon. Even now Pala could understand why she did it. On nights like those, every kind of ghost story felt real.

She remembered snuggling up to Grams’ side in the old, creaky sofa still kept here in the summer house, a shiver barely touching the tip of her spine. The blinds to the window the sofa was placed adjacent to were cracked open just enough to see a sliver of the moon. Haunting as it was beautiful. Back then, her knees, young and knobby, would knock against her great-grandma’s with every fearful jolt. But Grams never said a word. Her gaze would flicker only from the statuette next to the old, weathered journal on the table to the silent vision of the moon above.

The sight of the eternally weeping goddess still stuck to the back of her mind, despite the many years that had passed since then.

She had gifted one to Pala at the end of her fifteenth summer. And despite Pala herself holding little belief in its power, she could not deny the comfort that the sight of the little statuette brought.

Unlike her great-grandma’s personal carving, this one was made of ivory. Likely sourced from a horn shedding one of their bucks had shucked off two winters before. Dondons were easy like that. Once their horn was detached, the shedding was no more important to them than a mildly interesting rock. Grandpa Dan had always claimed that was why their family had picked up ranching them. The horns were valuable. Easy to obtain if someone did it right. And dondons themselves were amicable animals.

The carving of the statuette was not shoddy by any means. It was actually quite beautiful. Made with more detail and skill than she had expected from her great-grandmother, given her arthritis. But Pala could tell there was a slight difference between hers and the one made of old kokiri wood Grams always carried.

Namely, the lack of tear tracks scorched into its face.

Even now she can picture the strangely perfect markings burnt into aged kokiri wood. Symmetrical. Down to the stray tear on either cheek. An impossible feat for human hands. The ivory statuette tucked away in the pouch at her hip had no such detail.

But she knew better than to ask.

Pala rolled her shoulders, warding off the stiffness she could feel threatening to seep in. She needed to get moving anyhow. Heaven knows what Grams would say if she saw her still loitering around the front door at this hour. The sun was already tipping past the horizon line as it was.

She finished adjusting her breeches, tapping the heels of her boots a few times to get them fitting just right. Once everything was snug, she pushed the door open and stepped out into the cool morning air. It wouldn’t last for long, given the natural humidity in this region, but it was the best way to start the day. It made the gradual increase in heat more bearable. To Pala, at least.

She marched off the porch, grabbing a sputter lantern as she did so. Even with the sun pulling the sky into hues of purple and pink, the old stallhouse in the paddock hardly had an open ‘window’ for it to show through.

Their field in Upper Faron was quite a bit of land. It was less open than the one down near Lurelin, but it still had plenty of room. Most of the crowding came from the native flora. Crawling thickets and towering durian trees made it feel as if someone had built a low roof over the whole place. Not that the dondons cared any. They were short, heavyset animals with plenty of food to eat at their eye level. As far as they were concerned, the local thickets were an all-you-can-eat buffet. Another point of ease in their care, really.

Pala grunted as Lunal, the heifer in the stall closest to her, bumped into her keg with an unhappy snort.

“Fine, fine,” she placated, smoothing her hand over the beast’s blunt snout, “I get it. It’s scrub time.”

Lunal gave her the best estimation of a droll look that a dondon could perform. It was quite impressive actually. Pala shook her head with a laugh, lifting her scrub brush up to the beast’s back and getting to work.

══════════════════

Pala looked down the field toward the river at the sound of a familiar shout. It was now about midday, and the sunlight easily permeated through the surrounding flora, allowing her to see. There, on the other side, was a quickly approaching Lizalfolk woman. As she grew closer, the clearer her features became.

It was Talon. A Lizalfolk fisherwoman who had been a friend of the family for decades. Since around the time Great-Great Grandma Cala was girl, if she remembered right. Pala often thought of her as a sort of maternal figure. She was a mature woman. Confident and sturdy.

Pala watched as she climbed up the small incline in a few short leaps. Almost as if she was in a rush. Pala had never seen her move so quick outside of fishing.

“Get Erta,” Talon grunted as she came to a stop in front of her. The panic that reflected in her eyes was unusual. Pala’s stomach twisted at the sight of it. When she hesitated, Talon frowned. “Now, Palais.”

The intensity of her voice was alarming. But Pala nodded anyway and turned on her heel, rushing to the house.

It felt like an omen. Like a warning. Briefly, she wondered about the town. About Hyrule itself. Hopefully, the royal family had received a warning as well. They were kind, as far as Pala knew. And they ruled well. It didn’t sit right with her that only she and her family would know.

Though she wasn’t sure how they would be told about whatever was happening, but she was sure they could find out somehow. There was no way a bunch of dondon ranchers would be the only ones in Hyrule to be warned.

Besides, didn’t heroes show up in times like this? It certainly felt like they should. Pala had never felt so nervous in her life.

She felt out of breath by the time she made it to the house. The door was already open, the muffled sound of Gram’s low voice easily heard. She sped inside.

Grams turned at the sound of her footsteps. She took one look at Pala’s face and frowned, sighing as she retrieved her cane.

“Talon—” She started. Grams waved her off, already limping toward the door. She glanced back for a moment. She gestured toward the outdoors with her chin.

“Let’s go, Palais.”

Pala nodded. She trotted forward, gently helping Grams walk as she guided her back to the lower hill. Talon remained where she had left her. The frown on her face must have remained the entire duration Pala was gone.

“Talon,” Erta leaned heavily on her cane as she approached the woman.

“Erta,” she returned quickly. She glanced behind herself, her eyes flickering across the empty plain. “You should move the herd early this season.”

Pala blinked in surprise. They had never changed fields so early. Not when the weather was so pleasant. At least, not to her memory.

Her great-grandma gave the fisherwoman a long, hard look.

“Dan won’t like it.”

“He doesn’t have to.” Talon glanced backwards again. “The thought of an adventure will win him over.”

Pala looked too, though she didn’t see anything. It was unlike Talon to be so jumpy. Yet she was. Pala returned her gaze to the fisherwoman as she spoke again.

“Besides,” Her gaze flickered toward the field Granddan was likely in, “The fresh Lurelin air would do him some good, too.”

Talon wasn’t wrong. Every trip back to Lurelin was always an adventure. It was never a guarantee just who someone could meet on the road. Nor could someone really predict the weather or how the terrain had changed in the past six months. Pala distinctly remembered a time when the river had moved, blindsiding the three of them.

The conversation continued, pulling her from her thoughts.

“What about you?” Grams asked. The natural follow up in a situation such as this. Pala glanced at Talon from her place at her great-grandma’s side. She wanted to know the answer, too. The fisherwoman shook her head. Pala frowned.

“Rivers are in my blood. You know that.”

Grams sighed. Her shoulders sunk, her mouth opening as she looked down, “Take care of yourself.”

“I always do.” Talon assured. Then, she turned her eyes to Pala. Her gaze flickers to the hilt of the throwing dagger at Pala’s hip. “Don’t forget what I taught you, Palais.”

A stone sunk into her stomach. Talon’s words felt less like a brief farewell and more like she might never see her again.

“I don’t think I could even if I tried,” she tried to smile, but she was sure it appeared more like a grimace. It was the best she could do. When Talon returned it, Pala didn’t say anything about how sad it looked.

The fisherwoman gave her an approving nod. Then, she looked back to Pala’s great-grandma. Despite the sincerity of her words, they sounded brittle.

“May we meet again, my friend.”

When Pala glanced at her, Grams smile had stiffened. She made the impossible promise anyway.

“Until then.”

══════════════════

Grams had been right. Granddan was not happy about moving the herd. No matter how her great-grandmother had played it off as an adventure like Talon had suggested. Pala had always known that Granddan had been an adventurer when he was young. Peddling dondon ivory and the like as he went searching for anything that piqued his interest. He even claimed that a boy he’d met would one day grow up to be the Hero talked about in the old legends. Grandma Malta had called that particular claim hogwash all the way up to her deathbed, but for the first time in nearly a decade, Pala hoped it was true.

Hyrule might just need a hero right now.

She stayed quiet as she shuffled around the kitchenette, listening in as predictably, Granddan disagreed with the spontaneity of the plan. He didn’t like changing things so abruptly. And to be perfectly honest, neither did Grams. Which was probably what actually bothered him. Something about this entire situation had forced Grams’ hand. She would have never agreed to Talon’s suggestion otherwise.

“You understand this doesn’t make a lick of sense, don’t you?” Granddan asked, the question nearly rhetorical. Pala glanced at the pair just in time to see Grams raise a single, thick brow.

“And since when has ‘sense’ meant so much to you?” She rolled her shoulders, continuing her work and packing things away. “Don’t forget who raised you, boy.”

Granddan grumbled a bit under his breath.

“Guess I’ll have to head into town to send a courier down to Lachlan,” he spoke up, already turning toward the front door. Pala quickly looked back at the counter, hoping she wasn’t caught listening in. Granddan’s snort told her otherwise. She lifted her gaze. There weren’t that many private conversations in their little house, anyway.

“Don’t.” Grams called out before he took more than two steps. Granddan whipped black around, his brows drawn together in consternation.

“Whaddya mean, ‘don’t?’ He’s gotta know we’re coming.” Her grandfather made to turn back toward the door again. Grams wasn’t having any of it.

“I said, don’t.”

“You gotta start making sense sometime, Ma!” Granddan hissed. He gave up, marching over to one of the dining chairs and dropping into it with a heavy thud.

“Don’t you take that tone with me, Danel.” Grams pointed the knitting needle in her hand at him as she spoke. Wisely, Pala continued to stay quiet as the two ‘argued.’ Grams continued, “And it’ll make sense when it makes sense. It isn’t as if Lachlan puts anyone up in our old hut anyhow.”

Pala peered at Granddan, waiting to see what he would say. In the short silence that followed, Grams put her knitting away. When Pala glanced back at her, she saw that she had pulled the old calendar book from Great-Great Grandma Cala. Granddan had clearly caught sight of it. He didn’t say anything, but the frown on his face deepened. He looked to Pala just as she returned her gaze to him.

“C’mon Pala-girl,” Granddan said instead of what he so clearly wanted to, “Ol’ Kilo won’t listen to anybody ‘cept you.”

“Yessir,” Pala said as she, too, turned fully toward the front door. “Though, I think s’just ‘cause he don’t like you all that much, Granddan.”

Granddan sniffed.

“Maybe he would if he made better choices.”

“Don’t put him up in the stall next to the hutch, then.” Grams called out from behind them. Granddan couldn’t deny that she had a point. Pala figured he would refute it despite that. After all, dondons weren’t meant to eat cuccoo eggs. Kilo did it anyway.

“He should know better!” Granddan called back.

Pala thought to herself that Kilo did, in fact, know better. He just liked getting a rise out of Granddan. Just like his sire once did. She briefly wondered if her grandpa actually did know about Kilo’s tricks before quickly discarding the idea. If Granddan knew, he wasn’t letting on.

“C’mon Granddan,” Pala tugged on his arm, “I’ll even let you have Helt’s pasture.” She watched her offer work like a treat, the irritated look in Granddan’s eyes disappearing almost immediately. He patted her on the head.

“You’re a blessing straight from the goddesses, Pala-girl.”

“Course I am. I had you to raise me, didn’t I?”

Granddan laughed.

“That y’did, Pala-girl, that y’did.”

══════════════════

Talon wasn’t there to see them off a few days later. Something about it seemed wrong to Pala, though the fisherwoman wasn’t always around to say goodbye most times anyhow. But a lot of things were different this time around. The way they felt watched when she came to them, her suggestion early move, Grams allowing the early move—nothing added up. Not really. It made Pala worry.

But Grams had been strict in their preparations. There was no time to go searching for her. Worse yet, a storm seemed to be approaching from the west. If they left now, they could probably outrun it. And mauve that had been Talon’s plam all along. Even if it felt like there was something more to it. But leaving now gave Pala no time to do anything else. No time to say goodbye. Not to the townspeople or the other Lizalfolk Pala knew. There just wasn’t enough.

That was what rattled her most.

Pala sighed, checking over the doors and windows in the house one last time. Granddan was out securing the last of the tarps, and the cuccoos were already caged up in the back wagon with Grams. She was the last one left. And terribly, she had the strangest feeling it would be the last time she was. The summer house wouldn’t be here when they got back.

At least not the way it looked now.

She shook her head. Stepping out into the late morning sun, she reached back to pull the door closed. It slotted almost perfectly into the frame. Each half of the latch mechanism lined up, clinking together as she moved the latchbolt into place. Her hand lingered for a moment. The other reached into the pocket with her ivory statuette of Hylia, holding tightly around the well-carved object.

Pala closed her eyes.

The prayer was short. But it didn’t need to be long. All Pala needed was safe passage and the promise of reunion. So that was what she asked for. The statuette sat warm in her hand, though she couldn’t tell for sure if it was the warmth of summer or an answer. She chose to believe the latter.

Her eyes opened.

“C’mon Pala-girl!” Granddan called from the driver’s seat of the front cart. She glanced over at the caravan. The entire herd was present, ready to follow Kilo and Lunal, the dame and darrow. Squinting, she could see that the two were already harnessed up. “Sun’ll only get hotter!”

Well, he wasn’t wrong.

Pala jogged up to the front cart, climbing into the seat next to her grandfather. Looking at the well-trodden path ahead of her, she could easily imagine they were going out on an adventure. Out to save the world, though it really only felt like they were saving the herd. Still, the thought made her feel a bit better about leaving.

Two clicks and a familiar whistle later, they were off.

As the wagon rumbled over the ancient, weathered road, Pala felt the statuette in her pocket pulse once more with warmth. It was of little comfort, though it did soothe her nerves a bit. The distant clouds were suddenly just a bit lighter.

As if everything would somehow be alright.

#zelda the sacred realm #sacred realm #writing challenge #the legend of zelda au #event!fic #submission

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pourcap · 1 year ago

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thoughts: kr chapter 15 (pt. 1)

'If they come this way—’ said Nikandros in a low voice. ‘Hey!’ Laurent called out. (...) i bet this will make nikandors love laurent even more :)

(...) Brief visions of strangling Laurent weren’t helpful. (...) damen is the best protagonist ever

(...) Damen judged the distance between himself and the nearest of the approaching soldiers, his chances of killing them, of killing enough of them to even the odds for the others. (...) also does damen's mind ever not immediately go this route? imagine constantly being so on edge because you feel like you have to fight and protect because that's all you've ever known, and because you're the best at it so everyone's survival depends on how quickly you eliminate threat. so exhausting.

(...) ‘You are Charls the renowned Veretian cloth merchant?’ said the officer sceptically, as if this was a name well known to him. ‘No,’ said Laurent, as if this was the most foolish thing in the world. ‘I am Charls the renowned Veretian cloth merchant. This is my assistant. Lamen.' ummmm. okay. 'as if it was the most foolish thing in the world' made me laugh. laurent's brashness lol. also i absolutely love how laurent just went for the ship name, which is of course veeery far off from damen's actual name so they totally won't risk being found out at all

'I don’t suppose your men could aid us in our repairs?’ said Laurent. Damen stared at him. They were encircled by fifty mounted Akielon soldiers. Jokaste was inside that wagon. no way that's why laurent stopped them. is he insane???? i can 100% picture the way damen's staring at him.

just remembered "it's the game i like" so i'm guessing this turn of event makes sense

The officer said, ‘We’re patrolling for Damianos of Akielos.’ ‘Who’s Damianos of Akielos?’ said Laurent. His face was utterly open, his blue eyes unblinking, upturned to the officer on his horse. ahhhhh!!! oh god. also i looove when laurent puts on this faux-innocent look he used so much in book one. it's just so amusing to me bc he's such an asshole and i mean this very lovingly

(...) Nikandros had the slightly stupefied look that Damen remembered from several of his own adventures with Laurent. (...) can you believe i'm getting emotional over this? because damen knows laurent now. because laurent is known. for probably the first time in his life except for by auguste he has someone who really actually genuinely knows him and appreciates him for the way his mind works. i just love laurent and damen so much <3

Damen followed him in, acutely aware that he was being separated from his men. Laurent simply walked into the inn. such an interesting nod to how damen feels more comfortable in the presence of his men (whether that's because he feels the need to protect them or because there's safety in numbers in general) whereas laurent had to rely on only himself for the past years

(...) Perhaps he could overwhelm Stavos. He could negotiate some kind of exchange, Stavos’s life for their freedom. his brain just won't stop omg. imagine constantly thinking about how to get out of situation that could end in your death (also imagine how intimidating damen must look to an outsider since he's basically just always coming up with battle plans in his head lol)

'I can assure you. Charls the renowned merchant is already here.' noooooooo

'That is impossible. Call him out here.' ohh the audacity. laurent can be such a prince

Charls took one look at the unmistakable blue eyes and blond hair of his Prince, who he had last seen in Damen’s lap dressed as a pet in a tavern at Nesson. His eyes widened. Then, with a truly heroic effort: ‘Charls!’ said Charls. hahhaaha no way. bless the real charls <3

they're all charls :')

'Thank you, Charls, this man believes I am the King of Akielos,’ said Laurent. god he's soooo annoying i love him so much

'An agent of the King when he has raised taxes and threatens to bankrupt the entire cloth industry?’ said Laurent. Damen put his eyes somewhere where they wouldn’t meet Laurent’s, (...) i repeat: he's so annoying and i love him so much. also a fed up damen is so funny to me

'You speak very good Akielon,’ he said, loudly and slowly. ‘Thank you,’ said Damen. ohh that reminds me of that scene in book one when laurent had damen drugged and this guy told damen that laurent had an eye for detail or something lol

'(...) Nikandros is completely useless as the Kyros,’ Laurent said, loudly enough for Nikandros to hear him. ‘He doesn’t know the first thing about cloth.' oh my god laurent stop antagonizing your boyfriend's best friend!!!

Damen looked over at Laurent, who was deep in conversation, letting his eyes pass slowly over every familiar feature, the cool expression tipped with gold in the firelight. He said, ‘Did he?’ ‘Charls said, think of the most expensive pet you’ve ever seen, then double it.’ ‘Really?’ said Damen. damen stop getting horny pt. 34972387

'Of course, Charls knew who he was right away, because he couldn’t hide his princely style, and nobility of spirit.’ ‘Of course,’ said Damen. hahahhahaha awww i love charls and i'm happy that in the future he'll have some new tales to tell about this moment right now

'Maybe you could encourage Akielons to wear sleeves. You’d sell more cloth,’ said Laurent. Everyone laughed politely at the joke, and then speculative looks crossed one or two faces, as if this young cousin of Charls’s might have stumbled by accident onto a good idea. you can always count on laurent to find a new way to be a nuisance to akielos <3

ahhhh did laurent push their mattress together to sleep next to damen????? i'm crying. sobbing, actually <3

they're kissing !!! i love them soooo much i can't even put it into words anymore, my heart just goes "!!!" every time they're close to each other

Laurent didn’t seem to care, even seemed to like it. Damen pressed him into the wall, and took his mouth. Laurent smelled of soap and fresh cotton. Damen’s thumbs pushed into his waist. laurent being turned on by damen's sweat... honestly if we got laurent's pov, he'd probably be just as intense about damen as damen is about him. they're truly a match made in heaven.

(...) They had not before had the luxury of extended lovemaking, deliberate and unhurried as a First Night. His thoughts ribboned with all the things they had yet to do. damen is such a softie!!! he's seriously just thinking about all the things he still wants to experience with laurent. he's so cute :')

(...) It was charming, because it was clear that Laurent was unsure exactly what to do, yet, typically, had acted to take control of everything. again: he knows laurent so well by now! i'm so emotional.

'First time to entertain a lover?’ Just saying the word made him flush, and he saw Laurent flush too. god. goooood. godddddd.

(...) He watched Laurent react to his body. Virgins and the inexperienced tended to get nervous, which he enjoyed as a challenge to be overcome, hesitancy turned into eagerness and pleasure. It pleased some deep part of him to see in Laurent the flickering of a similar reaction. (...) hmmmmm. :)))))))) i mean, he's wrong obviously, but i am super happy that laurent gets to experience sex with a good man who he finds attractive and who he likes and who is, on top of all that, great at sex <3

And dropped to his knees on the floor of the inn. i'm getting teary-eyed over a blowjob. seriously. i'm just so proud of laurent and of him taking initiative because he wants to do this with and for damen !!!!

that description of the contrast between laurent's internal struggle and practiced skill makes me sick

#i keep forgetting tumblr has a character limit now 😭#capri #captive prince #laurent #laurent of vere #damen #damen of akielos #damianos #damianos of akielos #lamen

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jumexju · 11 months ago

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LULLABY

Fic Type !! : angst

CW !! : Gojo fucken dies (thanks a lot gege)

Summary !! : He lied. He didn't come back like he said he would.

Note !! : Yes i'm bitter idc gege needs to apologize for makin me go thru this, this was originally gon be a fluff fic but I just read 237 for myself and well, here we are

✦ MASTERLIST

OPENING YOUR eyes, you could see his eyes. Bluer than the sea itself, not even the beaches in Okinawa could compare to the beauty his eyes held. And his hair, oh his hair. Softer than the clouds and whiter than the snow. The way his lips were always plush against yours.. How his rough, calloused hands would often cup your cheeks as he kissed your forehead.. He was simply more perfect than perfect was.

"Ya miss me?" He snickered as his strong arms wrapped around you, engulfing you completely in his affection. You immediately hugged him back. With your face buried in his shirt, you could almost smell the detergent you often used when doing laundry.

The softness of the fabric was like no other, you weren't sure if it was because of the fabric itself or because it was Satoru clothed in it. Despite his rigid build, he was always a source of comfort for you, he was always soft to you.

"F'course, there's not a single day I don't miss you." Your words were quiet ー and a little muffled since you were still tightly pressed against him. He pulls away a little, trying to get a better look at you.

"Hey.. you know i'd never leave you." He tries to reassure you as he takes one of his hands off your waist and raises it to cup your cheek. His thumb brushing against your skin.

"..." You didn't say anything back but your grip on his shirt tightened. You rested your forehead against his chest, "You're a bad liar."

At this, he chuckled, bringing you back in for a hug. "You're just an illusion made by my brain to cope with what happened.." You continued. "You're not really here.." Hot tears welled up in your eyes, you could feel them roll down your cheek as you slept, still not daring to let it wake you up.

"That may be true." He spoke, leaning down a little to kiss your forehead reassuringly, "..Maybe in some alternate universe, I'm still here, with you." He smiled.

".. That doesn't help, Satoru," You chuckled sadly as he wiped your tears with his thumb.

"Made ya laugh though didn't I? That's gotta count for somethin'!" He declared cheerfully.

"You always knew how to cheer me up.." Your voice faltered, lips quivering. He pulled you in again, trying to comfort you. You wanted so badly for this to be real. You wanted to wake up next to him, tell him you loved him and see his toothy smile as he told you that you couldn't possibly love him more than he loved you.

"I miss you.." Your body shook as you cried into his shirt, his arms keeping you close.

"I know."

Your eyes burst open, vision cloudy from the tears you'd been crying in your sleep. The covers surrounding you shifted as you sat up, wiping your tears, you felt empty. The heavy feeling of sorrow had become familiar. Grief had made a home in your heart since seeing the horrific sight of Satoru's lifeless body.

It felt like some sick and twisted dream.

At first, you'd been angry. Angry that Sukuna had managed to end the life of the one you loved so much. Angry that no one else stepped in to help, even if you knew logically that they would've only hindered him. Angry that.. you weren't there to see him in his final moments.

Then you were sad. Sad that you would never hear him rant about how the higher-ups were always on his ass. Sad that you wouldn't be able to see the boyish smile he wore so often around you. Sad that you'd never see the loving glint in his eyes whenever he looked at you.

But now.. you were empty.

As empty as his side of the bed now that he was gone. Emptier than the bottomless pit that sat in your stomach, it was unbearable. The weight of his death crushed your heart.

It was uncanny.

To realize that you would never wake up next to him again. You would never get to bicker with him over his unhealthy addiction to sweets. You would never feel his soft lips on yours again. The softness of his hair would never kiss the tips of your fingers.. his warmth would never again be close to you & his eyes would forever remain soulless, never again gazing at you lovingly like he used to.

You didn't have Satoru to comfort you anymore. The spot beside you would always be cold. He wasn't coming back.

Sobs racked your body as you began to cry for the nth time this week and in an attempt to soothe yourself, your encased yourself in your own arms. Your breaths were uneven, your eyes hurt from the endless stream of tears that flowed. Your pained wails ricocheted off the walls of your room.

You were alone.

Totally and undeniably Alone.

#angst #jjk angst #hurt no comfort #jjk #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo angst #satoru angst #satoru gojo #jjk satoru #fuck sukuna #Written apology NOW gege #what the fuck #jume fics

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rosie-kairi · 2 months ago

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My Long-ass Post About "Wicked"

have to blurt out my entire long-winded rave-review of "Wicked"(2024) I have never seen the Musical in full and only know plot points through osmosis. anyway TLDR: I loved it and need to be sedated. anyway thoughts commence under the cut. Spoilers obviously

The opening sequence???? Oh my god it has me hooked IMMEDIATELY. The slow pan through the castle on the floor showing the disarray it's in with all the propaganda posters before showing the bucket and the puddle with The Hat laying on top while the news report plays in the background??? "A Young human female... with a bucket of water.... the Wicked Witch of the West is dead."

The horse showing galloping away from the castle which I'm like 99% certain is Fiyero's horse.

The pan over the rainbow that passes by Dorothy and the others walking to the Emerald City down the yellow brick road had me like

The tulip fields being all practical.... like they planted a shit ton of tulips in real life just for that one shot. Actually just All the Practical sets and effects really made the movie all the more breathtaking.

All of "No One Mourns The Wicked". Ariana did an amazing job showing Glinda's conflicted feelings about the situation. How Glinda was clearly distraught over the events but having to keep it together for the Munchkins- she sounded like she was on the verge of tears for the entire end bit.

The propaganda posters all around the town.

Glinda very awkwardly excusing herself after they pull out the giant straw effigy like "Okaaaaaay I'm leaving now, I really have to be elsewhere haha farewell". Also her having to pop her bubble in order to her the girl asking if she was really friends with Elphaba in the past.

TITLE CAAAAARD. It being all old timey like something from the era the og Wizard of Oz released would have.....

Shiz. Just all of Shiz is sososso beautiful. Huge win for Practical effects lovers.

Also the outfits. Another blanket statement here about how the costuming was breathtaking I loved all of Glinda and Elphaba's outfits.

Elphaba having that little "no I didn't eat grass" thing at the ready was hilarious but also very sad.

Glinda going "I need to lay down" and her friends physically picking her up and carrying her sideways killed me."

Elphaba accidentally destroying the lil mural to the Wizard and revealing one with Animals underneath it.....

Madame Morrible being the first person to actually "appreciate" Elphaba and telling her that the color of her skin didn't matter while going on to calling her green skin "a sign of her inner wickedness reflected outside from within". Pain and suffering.

Elphaba talking about having a vision in "Wizard and I" where all of Oz was celebrating her while in reality they were celebrating her death....

"What Is This Feeling" is definitely my fave song, I just keep playing it in my head. I love the ensemble bits where stomping is used as a part of the instrumental. "Oh Galinda you are just too good!" is my favorite.

Glinda/ Elphaba: My roommate is ...

Glinda: -unusually and exceeding peculiar and all together impossible to describe

Elphaba: Blonde.

I love Glinda and Elphaba continuously going back and forth with each other doing various things trying to one-up one another.

"I was talking to a dear friend-" "a deer?" "a cow, actually"

The shadows with the animals,,,,,

Fiyero is fucking hilarious. He's a prince, he's a himbo, he's even bisexual. One of my friends that I saw it with was super suspicious of him the whole time and I thought it was hilarious lmao. I think he read too deep into the "brainless" thing being about a possible brainwashing plan and not just Fiyero being No Thoughts Head Empty.

Fiyero going on about being "brainless",,,, okay scarecrow "I want to ask the wizard for a brain" mf.

The choreo in "Dancing Through Life" was amazing!!! the spinny bookcases were so fucking cool I wish I could have a try at one of those.

The "loathing" leitmotif during the intermission part of "Dancing Through Life"

The others cheering at the docks when they see Nessa and Boq coming towards them to come with.

Nesssaaaaa. Doomed by the narrative. She's so happy with Boq at the ball. She has no idea she's gonna get crushed by a house at some point :((

Whispered "And they were roommates" to my friends during the scene were Glinda and Elphaba danced together and almost made one of them choke on their popcorn.

Elphaba crying when Glinda started dancing with her and Glinda asking if she was alright.... Everyone at the ball beginning to dance along as well.... GAH

Glinda being the first person (besides Elphaba's nanny probably) to tell Elphaba that it isn't her fault that her mom died. Also Glinda probably being the first person to tell Elphaba that she's beautiful during "Popular"

My friend didn't realize "Popular" was from Wicked and his jaw dropped when it started playing asdfdsa

Sleeping Poppies like from the og movie!!!!!

That lion cub is definitely the Cowardly Lion

"Not that Girl".... Cynthia Ervio's voice is amazing.

"Fiyero's been weird ever since that day... he's been thinking." "That's weird." "I know!!!"/ "I've been thinking" "So I've heard"

Glinda randomly declaring that she's changing her name and then immediately being like "why the hell did I say that"

Emerald City being GORGEOUS. what more can I say

Idina & Kristin having cameos was so cool!!!

The big-ass wizard mask immediately followed by Jeff Goldblum strolling out of the curtains.

The lil Oz diorama with the figures in the Wizard's room.

The Wizard talking about feeling paternal towards Elphaba. like Oh Boy you do not know the extent of it dude.

Elphaba being given the opportunity to wish for the Wizard to make her look normal like she originally had wanted to, but instead asking for him to help the Animals because she's finally started feeling confident in herself as she is.

Elphaba reading the grimmerie and immediately feeling horrible and horrified by the pain that the monkeys were going through because of her spell and trying to undo it.

Elphaba and Glinda destroying the Wizard's last connection to his home. RIP Bozo.

Is there anything I can say that hasn't already been said about the entirety of "Defying Gravity". It's a classic for a damn reason. The amount of adrenaline I felt watching Elphaba fly around with that broom could make me start flying. Once again, Cynthia Ervio's voice is amazing.

Madame Morrible pulling the manipulative stuff with Glinda bc Glinda literally can't say no to her or the Wizard anymore without being thrown in prison or killed or some shit.

"As someone told me lately, everyone deserves the chance to fly" coming from the Wizard's song "I believe everyone deserves a chance to fly"

"Look at her, she's Wicked- kill her!/ No one mourns the Wicked, so we have to bring her down!" fuck yeaaaaaah me when leitmotifs!!!

Anyway. I loved it. I'm insane and need to be sedated because I still have a week left of school before Holiday Break. Thank God I don't have exams because I would be thoroughly Fucked.

Also, in regards to Wicked Part 2, this screenshot puts it best:

#Rosie rambles #hmm what do I tag this as #wicked #wicked 2024 #wicked part one #wicked spoilers #? I guess?

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littleskeletonprincessss · 1 year ago

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There's been an accident - Swaggersouls x Reader

This a part 2 of a generic blurb I wrote.

"Bye- I love you" Swagger hung up the phone before putting it on the counter in front of him. He rested his head in his hands, foot anxiously bouncing on the barstool he has on just...waiting. His mind played their fight back on repeat. All the nasty things he'd said. Things they'd both said. And the part the hurt the most to watch was watching Y/N walk out. Watching her leave him.

Swagger wasn't one to be religious but he prayed to whoever was listening, whether it was some deity or even just the universe, that she'd come back to him. He couldn't think about life without her, she was his entire world.

His phone vibrating with a call startled him before looking down to see an unknown number.

"Hello?"

"Is this Eric Matthews?" A male voice asked.

"Yeah, um, yes that's me." Swaggers mind wandered, wondering who would be calling him by his real name.

"Mr. Matthews my name is Dr. Hilton from Marcella Community Hospital. You were listed as an Emergency Contact for a Y/N L/N?"

Cold washed over Swaggers entire body, his heart dropping in his chest and his voice becoming tight.

"She's my girlfriend. Is- What happened?" me managed to stutter.

"Unfortunately i'm not able to discuss too much over the phone but please come as soon as possible."

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

Swagger didn't remember anything about the drive to the hospital and honestly couldn't deny if he ran any red lights. After hanging up with the doctor his only focus was getting to her. His mind raced- what could have happened? This was all his fault. If they hadn't fought she wouldn't have left and she'd be safe at home, snuggling with him on the couch with Bear and Bean.

His footsteps felt heavy and the entrance to the front desk seemed to go on forever, the end always moving farther away.

"Hi, my name is Eric. I- I received a call? About my girlfriend, Y/N? I- I don't know- Sorry, I don't know where i'm supposed to go or who i'm supposed to go to-". Swagger rambled.

The receptionists face fell, sadness taking over her pretty features, darkening them.

"Yes, sir. Please have a seat." She said before picking up the phone next to her.

Swagger migrated to the waiting area, but was too stressed and worried to sit. He paced, chewing at his fingernails - a bad habit Y/N had helped him get over. Dark thoughts tried fogging his brain and it was everything he could do to ignore them.

"Mr. Matthews?"

Swagger looked up at the Doctor who'd called his name.

"I'm Dr. Hilton, we spoke on the phone." He said, holding out his hand.

"Please, what happened?" Swagger pleaded, taking his hand.

"There's been an accident. A head on collision."

Swaggers heart stopped. The sound around him faded until the silence screamed in his ears. He couldn't breathe. He felt tears form, hot and clouding his vision, it hurt to swallow.

"Is- I mean- she's- she can't-" he tried saying every thought at once.

Dr. Hilton helped Swagger sit.

"She's alive. Broken arm, a few broken ribs and a concussion, along with a few bruises and cuts. Someone was looking out for her."

Swagger took the deepest breath he'd ever taken.

"Can I see her?"

"Not yet. She's in surgery right now for the broken ribs, one of the nicked her lung so she was taken back immediately. I'll have someone come get you when she's in recovery."

Swagger stood up and hugged the Doctor. Later he'd be embarrassed. Right now though the relief that he felt-he didn't care. Even if she was mad at him when she woke up, she was alive. She'd be okay.

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

Hours passed by. And Swagger couldn't do anything but wait and respond to the occasional text he received asking for status updates after he'd updated your friends.

"Y/N L/N?" A nurse finally called your name.

Swagger stood up- almost too quickly, he made himself light headed.

"Please follow me." The nurse said.

Swagger followed the nurse down corridors past rooms full of patients and families before stopping at your room.

His heart broke a little. You looked so fragile, a cast around your arm and bandages wrapped around your head. A bruise puffed up around your eye. IV's delivered a clear fluid through your body while oxygen was wrapped around your ears and into your nose.

"She'll be sleeping for a bit. But you're welcome to wait here until she wakes up." The nurse said before shutting your door, locking away the noises from the hallway and giving you privacy.

Swagger took the chair next to your bed and angled it to hold your hand while he looked at you. Stroking your cheek with his thumb he leaned down and kissed your hand before lying his forehead on the bed next to you, the exhaustion from worry and stress taking over his body now that you were here next to him, safe. He wouldn't sleep, but his body needed to rest.

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

"Mmm." your low groan caught Swaggers attention.

Snapping his head up he saw your eyes begin to blink open.

"Hey, hey, shh." He stood, not wanting you push yourself too hard. He started stroking your cheek again, giving you a sense of comfort.

"Swagger?" You croaked out.

"Yeah, I'm here."

"What happened?" you tried clearing your throat.

Swagger reached over to pour you a little bit of water before helping you to sit up to drink it.

"They told me you had a head on collision. Sounds like a pretty bad accident" He said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

You sipped the cold water feeling it run down your throat, soothing the burning feeling.

"I'm sorry I left." You whispered.

"Hey, don't worry about that right now. That's not important. What's important is you're okay. Alright?"

"I got your voicemail."

Swagger paused.

"I meant everything." He said, looking you in the eyes.

"I know. I was going to turn around. And then-" you trailed off.

"You were?" Swagger looked like he wanted to cry. 'I was going to turn around.' He took your hand and brought it up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss before hiding his face with it.

"I thought- I just thought you'd be gone forever. And then I got the call and thought you'd really be gone.

"Swagger, please just hold me?"

He didn't need another word before scotting next to you and pulling you into his arms. You buried your face in his chest chasing the comfort you both needed.

"I love you." You whispered, feeling sleep take over.

"I love you."

#swaggersouls #swagger souls #swaggersouls x reader

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glacierclear · 2 years ago

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im sorry i need to dump all my thoughts about ada x leon somewhere for personal fulfillment reasons,

big disclaimer: resident evil canon/lore is inconsistent and my feelings/thoughts on all this is NOT me stating it as fact. It's 99% speculation and me interpreting context. I'm just having fun!

it's really wild that i started my resident evil experience hating Ada. I did not understand her character and the way she's portrayed is very inconsistent and confusing (probably on purpose) and, like many others, I assumed the choices she made and the pain she inflicted on others was malicious and intentional.

But something clicked recently,,,I understand now that she didn't choose this life. She doesn't WANT to be a spy. She doesn't WANT to be a mercenary. Everything she was and everything she had was taken and stripped from her. She doesn't even have a real name anymore. I think seeing the small insight of her backstory in the biohazard manga really put all the pieces together and brain blasted me with understanding. Her entire character (to me, at least!) revolves around survival and self-preservation. She is a SELFISH character, not because of ego or power, but because of a LACK of power. She no longer has autonomy over her life in a way that matters and so the only thing left for her is to stay alive.

And I just think that ties so beautifully with Leon's struggles. Both of them being forced into this life where they have to live and die at the hands of the people who control them. And, listen...listen...it's overdramatic as fuck and a VERY idealistic/romanticized interpretation of their relationship, but honestly it makes me hella emotional thinking about Leon potentially being one of the few things in life Ada wants to live for other than herself. Him being the only person in the entire series who has ever shown her genuine, selfless kindness and care,,, and the fact that her circumstance and the trappings of her life forced her to betray him and she has to live with that guilt and has to come to terms with the fact that she will never genuinely connect with people because who even is she anymore? She has no sense of self.

And her entire campaign in RE6 resonates me in such a weirdly poignant and impactful way. RE6 has some WONKED UP writing and it's so silly and stupid; but I think if it was tweaked a little bit it would be a genuinely moving story about a woman losing her agency and bodily autonomy to a violent man who wants to own her and her fighting with his fabricated, demented vision of her. It's a manifestation of his greed and possession...and then she kills her clone and immediately after she sees Leon again and his first immediate instinct is to protect her and sacrifice himself again for her and throw himself into MORE bullets for her even after the betrayal of RE2 ........ and then after that she finally snaps and FINALLY chooses to fight for HER morals and HER justice by killing Simmons' bioweapon.

Like, listen, I hate the trope of "woman traumatized being saved by a man" in most cases, but something about the way I see Leon and Ada just makes SENSE man.

The fact that she specifically goes out of her way COUNTLESS times to protect him and save him and none of it is enough to get him to forgive her. None of it will ever be enough but she keeps trying anyways. Like, damn, his entire mission is Spain is only possible because Ada saved his ass like...four times??? And you can make reasonable arguments that she doesn't care about him he's only important for her mission, and to be honest I think that interpretation is also valid, but for me personally I just think she cares about him so much but it's in his best interest to continue believing she doesn't care.

And I just want them to be happy. But it will probably never work out between them, just due to everything...they can't escape their lives. They're both kept alive by two opposing morality systems. Leon's guilt and unyielding need to fight for truth and innocence and to protect everyone he's lost and everyone who depends on him. And Ada to hold onto herself and what whittling remains of self-identity and independence she still has when it was all taken from her, even to the point of someone making a damn clone out of her.

Man I just love them so much I'M SO EMOTIONAL!!!!!!!

#shut up glacier

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starrenati · 1 month ago

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Overall, I know this chapter is very short, but I have troubles with focus (my school is making my life difficult for no reason), and the new year was not kind to me yet. (kinda rude if you ask me)

So everyone, very late Happy New Year! I wish you all the best and the best only!

Chapter XIX

"...And that's okay?"

Cassandra was still laying in bed, sort of unsure why. There was that need to pull herself up, collect her things and just leave, but that would probably wake up Alice. Not that she cared, absolutely not. Not in this world or another, just it seemed unfair. And the feeling of a warm hand on the back of her neck was actually not so bad after all, she could enjoy it for a bit more before moving away.

Those few promised minutes slowly outstretched to a longer time, of just laying down there, blankets softly folded around her body and pillows put right under her to keep her comfortable. She couldn’t recall the last time someone cared for her like that, which was probably never anyway. So she laid there, watching the rays of sun get longer and more tinted in orange and red than in any other color, the evening was coming. Probably. It could switch any moment in the Void, it has its own rules by having zero rules at all. The time seemed to pass surprisingly fast when she could just relax, watch the girl beside her slowly slide down and lay down on the bed as well. She caught herself softly frowning, when Alice removed her hand from her skin. She got used to that warmth already, and it was nice to have it here, instead of the cold air around.

Finally, Alice started to stir awake, her eyelids fluttering open, just to close again. Definitely not a morning person, Cassandra had no doubt about that. Yet, she remained there, just looking at the girl in front of her, this scene carrying a weird sense of comfort and coziness to it. This time Alice opened her eyes for real with a soft grunt, looking at Cassandra through her lashes, a soft smile slowly creeping up to her lips.

“You’re alright…”

She said it in a tone that suggested that it was all that mattered to Alice for now. It was all that was important, and all that clouded her head up until now. It was weird. Warm feeling of someone's care surrounding Cassandra. Foreign feeling, that made her immediately went into a defensive stance. Frown forming on her face.

“Of course I’m fine. I’m not some weakling. “

Cassandra said with a scoff, getting up on the bed, looking around for her shoes, feeling super dizzy all out sudden. It was weird and unpleasant, yet she remained looking for her favourite boots. Where the hell Alice put them?

“You’re like a cat. The bald one.”

“What?!”

“I mean it. You’re soft when you want to be, but as soon as someone catches onto it, you show your claws and leave painful marks. “

“I’m starting to think that you’re the one with brain damage after whatever you did to me.”

Nova looked at Alice over her shoulder. At the tangled mess of red hair falling everywhere around the girl's head. Why was this scene making her so calm? To see someone invade her safe space like that and still enjoy it, like it to some degree. So infuriating.

“I didn’t mean to. I don’t know what was happening to me. Almost like someone spoke for me, and I had no control over it… But it’s gone. I’m sorry… Are you alright?”

Cassandra just scoffed, finally spotting her shoes and putting them on. Of course she was fine. Feeling dizzy and nauseous, but of course she was alright. Not like anyone gives a fuck if she’s really okay. But then it hit her. Alice was asking because she cared, not to just ask. Nova stopped mid lacing up one of the boots, her head reeling with various ways to reply. She quickly shook her head, going back to what she was doing, rapidly getting up from the bed, her vision going black, causing her to sit down again.

She could feel the familiar warm hand creep up onto her shoulder. Fuck. Just that word filled her mind for a moment. She was so angry at her body sabotaging her right now. She was the strong one here! She was the one with powers that could crash anyone! She couldn’t be weak! She couldn’t let someone care for her like this, to see her at her low point.

“Cassandra. Lay back down, I’ll make you some tea… It’s okay. I always feel weak after fainting too, especially so suddenly. It’s normal to feel weak sometimes, and that’s alright.”

She wanted to yell, to use her powers and throw Alice around like a rag doll, until she’ll see blood. But she held back for now. It wouldn’t make any sense. Alice wasn’t doing anything mean or rude, she wasn’t mocking her. She was caring. As ridiculous as it sounds, she was caring for her and it was throwing her off so much. It was new. That was the issue. It was new and completely foreign to Cassandra. She always had to care for herself, without anyone looking out for her. If anything, others here were always seeking her downfall.

“Thank you.”

She said with a defeated whisper. She could almost imagine the smile on Alice’s face with how much happy energy hit her from her direction. She kicked off her half laced up boots and crawled back into the nest of pillows and blankets. Looking at Alice as she got up to prepare the tea. So annoying, goody two shoes, so kind and caring. Almost making her sick. All that was out of the picture was glitter and unicorns. Yet it was weirdly comforting.

Nova closed her eyes for a moment, hoping for the dizziness to stop soon as it was making her more and more sick. Definitely not something you want to feel at all. She also began to think over what she saw. That creature was weird, but the energy was even worse, it was weirdly familiar. All those eyes and wings, like she saw and knew it sometime before, but she couldn’t recall from where. And now, against herself, all that she hoped for, was that it won’t take over Alice. Sure, the power was great, made to be used and exploited under the right master, but at the same time, she’d miss her little caring pet.

“Here. Just be careful, it’s hot.”

“I know how to drink tea.”

Cassandra barked back, sitting up in the bed and taking the mug into her hands. The warmth spread slowly from her hands to her whole body, she didn’t even notice how cold she was right now. Good, at least she won’t freeze. She couldn’t die from the cold, but freezing and hypothermia weren’t fun anyway.

“You’re mean again. “

“To you? Always.”

She said with a soft scoff and a falter of a smile on her lips, before taking a sip of the tea. Was that attempt at a joke? Maybe. Doesn't hurt to crack one every now and then, instead of cracking another head open.

Alice just shook her head, laying down beside Cassandra. She wasn’t tired, but it doesn’t hurt to just lazy around every now and then. She closed her eyes, immersing herself in the darkness of her mind, letting it envelop her fully. Once again she could see the red eyes staring back at her, it’s been a while since she had a chance to see The Eyes. They were suspiciously quiet lately. But she didn’t mind, they looked soft, so nothing bad was happening. She let herself sink deeper and deeper, suddenly a feeling hitting her.

Wade and Logan were in The Void.

It was weird, her heartbeat speeding up immediately. How the hell did they get inside? Why in the first place? She opened her eyes, trying to remain calm and not disturb Cassandra at least for now, letting her rest. But her confusion was as clear as a day.

#deadpool and wolverine #cassandra nova #deadpool #alice #oc #wolverine #cassandra #fanfiction #logan howlett #the void

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crack-whore-who-fuckedup-already · 1 month ago

Text

Be My Witness

Part 12- Extermination Day

Word Count: 6.3k

Trigger Warnings- drug use, gore, descriptions of blood/corpse, mentions of noncon sex

Authors Note- Happy New Years yall!!!

SONG: We Get High by Ashe

youtube

There was daylight flooding the room when Y/n woke again. She stirred before she opened her eyes, pulling her in her knees and pressing her feet into her calves in hopes of warming herself up. Angel must have moved from the foot of the bed a while ago.

There was a soft rustling in the room, the sound of a plastic container popping open just before the tumbling of pills being poured.

Y/n opened her eyes then, finding the spider right as he tossed one back. He sighed as he did, three hands bracing against the windowsill, the fourth setting the pink bottle down. The red pills settled inside noisily.

Y/n swallowed hard. “How long have I been out?”

Angel spun around, surprise written on his face. But as he took in the sight of her, his expression melted into carefully restrained wrath. He crossed his arms, casting his eyes away as if he couldn't even look at her.

“You slept all day yesterday. It's midday now.” He pointed to her bedside table as his gaze remained on the floor, the wall, the door; anywhere but her. “I got your book.”

She looked over and found it lying there on the bedside table.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He didn't acknowledge her thanks, just let them sit in tense silence.

“I…I think I can explai-”

“Can you? Explain?” He finally looked at her, glaring with hostility. “Cause I'd really love some fucking answers right now. Like, are you even sick? If you aren't, then what the fuck have you two been doin in there if not fuckin and filming? And why was he taking- what the fuck could he need that much of your blood for, Y/n, seriously. It looked like he was trying to feed half of Cannibal Town.”

Y/n cringed at the mention of the demographic, her experience in the deceptively quaint town leaving a lasting negative impression. She really genuinely hopes Valentino never involves himself with them like that, for her own sake. Though she knew when it came to money, her well-being would be quickly forgotten.

She shook off the unsettling thought.

“It's complicated.”

“Well then. You better make it real fuckin simple for me.”

He was being so frustratingly curt, she felt her own temper rise.

“Can you step off for one second, Angel? Christ, it's not like I asked for this. It was never supposed to-... I never wanted it to go this far-”

He finally let his anger bleed from his words into his movement. He leaned forward sharply, his upper arms thrown out in pointed frustration, his voice rising. “What was never-”

“Compound V is made from my blood!”

There was a moment of stillness before Angel let out a shaky exhale that sounded like an attempt at a laugh. The idea was too ridiculous for him to grasp right away, he almost dismissed it immediately. “What in the fuck-...”

But then his eyes darted back and forth, remembering the dozens of blood bags in Val’s hands. And the extreme possessiveness the moth had, particularly when it came to the doe. Even the taste of the pill when it lingered on the tongue too long; that sharp, coppery flavor that took him so long to get used to. A taste that was on his tongue as they spoke.

Angel’s stomach churned, acid rising in his throat.

Y/n sat up as he booked it to the bathroom, tossing the door open with a slam. She swung her legs over the side of the bed as he emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet; a measly combination of bile and pills. She took a steadying breath as blood rushed to her brain, her vision spinning wildly, her ears ringing.

After a second, Y/n forced herself to shake it off before she pushed herself to her feet.

Her legs felt weak. They trembled with every step she took, and her knees creaked under her, threatening to give way and send her tumbling to the floor. But she continued on anyway, finally making it to the bathroom.

Angel sat on the side of the tub, hunched precariously over the open toilet. He spit into it one last time, pulling back with a sharp, unsettled breath as he swiped at his mouth.

Y/n sat by his side and gingerly wrapped her arms around him and he reciprocated quickly, pulling her into his side. She rested her head in the warmth of his neck.

“Why didn't you-” Angel paused, reconfiguring his words and tone, his frustration lingering still. He sighed heavily as his hand found hers. “I wish you'd have told me, sweetheart.”

“I know. I didn't know how. And I didn't want you to… I don't know, I didn't want to burden you any more than I already do.”

“Burden?” Angel's grip around her waist tightened. “Who says you're a burden? You're my best friend; I should be there for you. I want to be there for you.” I need to be there for you, he thought dutifully to himself.

“You do so much for me already, babe. I guess, I just thought I could spare you a bit of chaos.”

His head rested on top of hers and her ears flattened out to accommodate him. “You know that never works when Val is involved.”

Y/n chuckled dryly. “No, no it does not.”

There was a moment of silence. Angel's fingers rubbed over the top of Y/n’s hand, feeling the ridges of her cold knuckles.

“So every appointment you've ever had? All those dizzy spells? You going as pale and as cold as a fuckin ice cube, that was all-?”

Y/n was nodding before he finished talking, affirming everything as he said it.

“Two times a month for the past thirty-five years…” She shivered as an afterthought struck her. “Sometimes more if the numbers project higher.”

He huffed at her added comment, then lifted his head lazily from hers before standing suddenly. With his hand still holding the doe’s, he carefully tugged her to her feet, fixing to bring her back to the comfort of the bed. But as Y/n took a step towards the door, her vision spun. A hand shot out, frantically searching for Angel to brace against him.

Angel didn't miss a beat. His free arms encircled Y/n as he tossed her hand over his shoulder. Then with a quick countdown, he hoisted her up into an embrace. She clung to his neck, breathing through the blind spots in her vision.

Angel carried her back out to her bed, leaning into it to place her squarely in the center. But she refused to let go of her hold on his shoulders; her way of asking him to stay. Angel complied, plopping them down on the mattress and kicking up the duvet. He pulled and tucked it tight around their shoulders as she snuggled into his chest with a contented sigh.

But Angel wasn't entirely satisfied.

His hand ran through her hair as he held her. “What are you going to tell Charlie and Vaggie?”

“Hmm?”

“They're going to notice something is wrong eventually, with how often you…” come home half dead, he finished mournfully to himself.

He pulled her impossibly closer to him.

Y/n shrugged as warmth engulfed her, making her muscles relax and her eyes close. She didn't quite know how to answer that and she couldn't quite bring herself to figure it all out just now.

“I'll tell them as much as they need to know,” she settled for.

With a final sigh and one last nuzzle into her friend, she surrendered again to sleep as it claimed her.

In the end, Angel got the answers he wanted, though he didn't like the implications.

For the past three decades he had been completely blind to what was happening right in front of him. And now that the wool has finally been lifted from his eyes, he felt defeated knowing he couldn't do anything to improve her situation. Angel took what little comfort he could in knowing that at the very least, Valentino couldn't reach them here at the hotel. She was safe for now, wrapped up comfortably in his arms and dozing off the rest of her exhaustion.

The next handful of days went by painstakingly slow and had the spider and doe on edge every waking hour of the day, and then some. Val hadn't seemed to figure out yet that the duo had been moving out right under his nose, and if he had, he never let on that he knew. Angel suggested at one point that maybe their boss was aware, but that he was waiting until they were settled and comfortable before making their life a living nightmare. Anxious debate ensued. Which ultimately led to them sneaking away to that smoke spot that Y/n had asked Angel to find on that first day. A rickety old fire escape on the backside of the hotel that was several stories above the ground. They had a picture perfect view of the rocky mountains that surrounded their dreadful city. It was strange seeing how peaceful the realm could be when souls weren't running amuck and making a mess of things. She wished she could run off into the hills beyond and disappear off the face of the realm, never to be seen again. She didn't have to remind herself why that was a terrible idea.

Extermination Day was quickly approaching and Angel made preparations for the two of them. Preparations as in, curating a smorgasbord of hard drugs for them to sample during the hours of lockdown. It had been so long since they'd had an Extermination Day away from Valentino, Angel wanted to do something special, rehab be damned.

They sat on the floor of Angel's half decorated room, a tray with small scattered piles of pills and powders between them.

Angel nudged it towards the doe. “Alright, sugar. Pick your poison.” He gestured to the right side of the tray. “We got, uh, LSD, DMT, PCP, naturally.” Then to the left side. “There's morphine, oxy, and good ole fenty.” Then finally, to the center of the tray. “And the classics; coke, meth, and MDMA, baby,” he finished triumphantly.

Y/n hummed along excitedly as her eyes scanned the platter. And when Angel pointed lastly to the colorful little tablets in the center, she lit up. Her hands shot out in front of her, cradling delicately in a begging motion, though she spoke delightedly.

“Ecstasy, please,” she beamed at the spider.

He plucked one happily from the tray -a pretty pastel orange one with a star pressed into it- and dropped it in her open hands. Y/n popped it in her mouth quickly and swallowed it dry.

Angel mirrored her with a white one from the left side of the tray and followed up with grabbing his pipe off the carpet next to him. A hot pink piece of glasswork Y/n had gotten him years ago as a token of affection, thoroughly blackened by the years of dedicated use.

Angel spoke as he meticulously scooped some of the powder from the right side of the tray into the bowl, already packed with a layer of weed.

“I had also gotten us a bottle of tequila but fuckin’ Vagina confiscated it before I could sneak it upstairs.”

“Vaggie?”

“Yeah, whatever. It's fine though, I think it distracted her from everything else I had stuffed in my pockets,” he finished with a chuckle and a flick of his lighter.

It had been quite some years since Y/n had enjoyed a thorough high without Valentino intruding on her body. After they had moved into the tower, Extermination Day came to be one of the most dreaded of the year -more so than it already was. Being locked up with nowhere to go left the duo within perfect grasp of the Vees. And with that amount of operations coming to such a sudden halt, it left the overlords itching for some entertainment.

It wasn't always sexual. Sometimes it was tame, maybe almost good-natured. On very slim occasions, Vox would pull up accompaniment tracks, connecting to the den speakers while Val pulled a heavily doped up Y/n to her feet and coerced her to sing songs with him. It was almost easy to convince herself she was content in those moments, hearing her voice ring out in the room.

Up until Val inevitably did make it sexual, commanding her to keep singing in that sultry little voice of yours while he thrusted roughly into her.

And the years that she and Angel were on the outs were even worse. Valentino reveled in the tension he had created between his employees. And while he hadn't forced them to be intimate with each other since that day, he had forced them to spend just about every execution day afterward together. Stuck in that dark room and compelled to watch one another as, not only Valentino but Vox and Velvette as well had their way with whichever whore they liked in the moment.

But that was behind them now. Now she was here, the newest guest to the newest hotel in Pentagram City. And most importantly, she had her best friend firmly by her side. Despite the anxieties they had about their boss, for the next few hours, they were untouchable.

Well, mostly.

When the Morningstar princess came knocking on Angel's door, the spider shoved his candy tray under the bed, the pills and powders mixing messily and almost spilling off the edge. He sprung to his feet in a rush, hastily jumping into the bed beside Y/n, who had moved there an hour or so into her trip.

She sat up at the knock, her ears twitching and flattening back, her eyes wide as she looked at the door then to Angel. He wasted no time wrapping her up in his arms and pulling her down into his chest, shushing her reassuringly as he did.

“It's okay,” he soothed. Finding Y/n's phone, he turned up the music that she had playing on it. Then he pulled her blanket up around them, feeling her settling into his side tensely. “Everything's alright, sugar. Just listen to the music.”

Another knock at the door. “Angel Dust?”

“Yeah! It's open!”

The handle turned and the door opened slowly, almost cautiously. Charlie stood in the now open doorway, respectfully not crossing the threshold. She looked between the two demons on the bed.

“You guys okay in here?”

“Yeah,” Angel gestured to the blocked out window, then vaguely all around him, his hand flailing to make a point he himself wasn't entirely following. “Just, y'know…nerves.”

It was a bad explanation and everyone knew it. A horribly attempted cover up. But Charlie was too nice to call them out.

“Oh…” Her eyes subtly scanned the room. “Right. Well,” The princesses smile was tight but genuine. She was clearly holding back from addressing the very stoned elephant in the room; the smell of burnt carpet and the silent doe who refused to look her way. “If you need anything, like water, or-or maybe someone to talk to? I'll be down in the lobby.”

With a nod, Charlie started to close the door but Vaggie's hand shot out and held it open. The silver haired woman leaned around the doorframe, her lips set in a hard frown.

“And whatever you're smoking in here, stop it.”

Charlie and Vaggie left them alone after that.

For as much as it wasn't their intention, the duo fell asleep almost as soon as the princess left them be. Angel went first, his soothing strokes of affection through Y/n's hair slowing until it stopped all together.

And with the steady rise and fall of Angel's chest underneath her head, she quickly followed suit.

~_~_~_~_~_~

The streets were empty. Unsettlingly so.

Not a demon -hellborn or sinner- strolled down the cracked, decrepit sidewalks. There was a breeze. It was warm and deceptively gentle, and it ruffled Angels white tufts of hair as he made his way down the street.

There were times you might be able to find a city block that was quiet, maybe even peaceful. But never empty. Never desolate. Hell was far too populated for that.

There was blood on the floor. It spilled into the street, oozing in thick globs over the curb and onto the pavement below, the road turning to viscous streams of crimson. Angel had no choice but to step in the sticky puddles, his boots thoroughly staining with red. He called out for Y/n, Cherri, Fat Nuggets, anyone as he followed where the blood was flowing from.

Finally making it back to NorthPen, he rounded a familiar corner and found himself on the street he and Y/n had walked down to greet Charlie in front of the hotel. It was a welcoming sight, the rundown building looming over him as he approached. Finally something familiar to soothe him. His pace picked up, blood splattering underneath him as he all but ran down the street now.

His steps faltered as he approached.

Three bodies hung from the decorative irons of the gate, lightly swaying in that warm breeze. Lined up, their limbs tied, their abdomens slashed and mutilated, inner organs spilling out and dangling as limply as the rest of their body.

The two on the outside wore hoods, their faces obscured. But the middle did not. Angel could see clearly where the rope bit into flesh, their neck snapped and stuck at an unnatural angle. One of their ears was missing, looking like it had been torn straight off their head. An eye popped out of its socket, still attached to and hanging from stringy muscle fibers. The cheeks were torn, intentional looking gashes pulling up from the crease of their lips, forming an irregular, haunting smile. Their skin was a deathly ashen gray, the blood having drained from their flesh hours ago, making the delicate stripes and spots stand out on their sunken face.

Stripes and spots.

Angel has seen death. Hell, he's caused and experienced it. He has no issue looking at a dead body, or several for that matter. But as his mind slowly pieced together who's body it was in front of him, a scream tore from his throat.

His eyes flitted wildly up and down over the corpse before jumping to the other two.

Even in his frenzied state, his brain finally caught up to the details of the hooded figures. One with a red blazer and matching dress pants, the other with ripped up jeans and miss matched shoes.

Another dreaded scream left Angel's parted lips.

He took a step, wanting to go to them, to help them or free them. He knew it was no use.

He dropped to his knees, unable to tear his eyes away from the horror before him. He yelled, cried, begged for his friends to come back. To wake up and move, and talk to him and tell him that-

“Everything will be alright.” A hand rested on Angel's shoulder. It smoothed over his fur, coming to lightly caress the back of his head. “It's just a dream, baby.”

Aside from the familiarity of her touch, her voice was one he would never forget. Angel didn't need to see to know who it was, but he looked anyway, relieved to find that her eye, ear and cheeks were all perfectly intact. In fact, she glowed with life, her skin flush with color and warm to the touch, something he didn't see on her too often anymore.

Y/n flicked a reassuring ear at him just before he flung his arms around her hips and legs, anchoring himself to her tightly. Her hands came down around him, gladly reciprocating his awkward embrace.

She surveyed the scene before them, subtly cringing at the image of not only herself but of Charlie and Cherri as well. Still, not the most disturbing thing Angel's subconscious has come up with.

“Let's get out of here, yeah?”

Y/n tugged him up gently by the arms until he stood on his own two feet again. Angel looked her in the eyes, taking in the real Y/n before him and wiped furiously at the tears that blurred his vision. Relief flooded him, the emotional rollercoaster leaving him feeling wrecked otherwise.

Y/n stroked his cheek, a soft reassuring smile on her lips. “We're okay.” She slowly and gently turned him to face the hanging bodies again. “See?”

Angel hesitated to look for a moment, the image already ingrained in his memory. But he gave in, trusting the doe to do right by him. And right she did.

The scene before them had changed, only a little. The street was still paved with blood. It still spilled over the sidewalk and flowed down the stream away from them. But instead of the people he loved hanging, it was the people he despised.

Valentino took Y/n's place, his neck in that scarily unnatural angle, his belly slashed, his eye gouged out. Though instead of a smile etched into his cheeks, a deep frown exposed the sharp points of his teeth.

The other two figures were still hooded, and just like before, their outfits gave them away. Both Vox and Velvette were drenched in blood. It seeped out of the hood and down their limp bodies. Whether or not it was their own blood or left over from Charlie and Cherri, Angel couldn't help but wince at the thought.

He turned away again, only half reassured by the change of scene.

Y/n stepped to him with a serene smile and, with a final embrace, the world around them began melting away. The rundown buildings, the bloody street, the swaying bodies on the broken gate, it all dissolved like chalk on the sidewalk on a rainy day. They faded into tranquil nothingness.

~_~_~_~_~_~

Angel woke with a start, jerking as if he had fallen ten stories and woken on impact. He heaved for air, lungs burning like he had been holding his breath. Heat clung to his skin, making him feel damp and gross.

Small arms encircled him, clinging tight as Y/n nuzzled into his side.

She was still asleep, not at all bothered by jumping into his dream. She did it often enough, seen enough of the terrors that play in Angel's subconscious to be able to navigate without exerting herself. For that, he was grateful.

With Y/n holding him, Angel leaned back against the pillows, his own arm resting around her shoulders and pulling her closer to his side. She sighed happily in her sleep.

The spider reluctantly checked his phone, groaning when he did. Five missed calls from Val and several texts demanding he come in at once to prepare for a last minute booking.

Some up-and-coming director/producer wanna-be that Val says he needs Angel to scope out. To try and bring in a decent payload so Val could see what he was working with.

Angel tried to head out quietly, not wanting to wake the sleeping doe curled up on his bed. It was no use. The second he shifted out of her embrace, her head lifted instinctually, her eyes bleary with sleep.

“Angel?”

“Yeah, sugar.”

She rubbed groggily at her eyes. “What's going on?”

“I got called in for work.”

She rested her temple delicately on her crossed forearms, just above her head on the bed. Her glossy eyes peered up at him.

“So soon? Dick...”

“It's okay, go back to sleep.”

Her legs moved before the rest of her body, kicking out from below the blanket.

“No, I want to come with you.”

She flung the cover away from her with a scrunch of her face and a twitch of her ears, less than thrilled to be faced with the brisk air.

Angel hesitated at her words. “You wanna come with me…to work?”

“No,” A considerably gentle huff escaped her lips and she shivered as she sat up. “Just, out. I need to run to the store. I gotta get some things…” she dissolved into soft mutters as she stood.

Angel offered her his hand, steadying her as she took a few uneasy steps. She flashed him a grateful smile before scanning the floor.

“Think you could grab some more popsicles?” Angel asked, tone dripping with innocent excitement.

“Yeah, of course.” Y/n's eyes finally spotted the black tray peeking out from under the bed. “Hey, babes?…” Angel hummed in acknowledgement as he tugged his blazer on. “You think I could have a bump or two of your coke?”

Y/n was the only person he liked sharing his drugs with beside Cherri Bomb. And after the startling realization of just how much of her blood he'd been ingesting over the years, he figured it was the least he could do.

“Take as much as you'd like, sugar.”

With a cocaine driven second wind, the duo made their way downstairs.

Vaggie paced in the dark lobby. Her gaze was cast to the ground intently, her brow creased in deep, troubled thought. With each pivot, her silver hair whipped around her shoulders in a soft flurry. Her head snapped up when she heard the creak of the stairs, her hopeful expression turning sour at the sight of them.

“Always great to see you too, toots,” Angel quipped sarcastically.

Vaggie let out a frustrated groan, a hand coming up to hold her forehead as the other balled into a tense fist. “Did you happen to see Charlie on your way down? We were supposed to have left for the news studio by now.”

“Haven't seen her today-”

“I'm here!” Charlie came barreling down the stairs, her signature giddy smile spread excitedly across her face. “Sorry! Couldn't find the right top!”

The three of them all stared at her, dressed in her usual bright red blazer. Y/n contained her laughter at the princess. Angel did not.

Vaggie sighed, swallowing the groan rising in her throat. “We're going to be late for our segment.”

“Not if we leave right now,” Charlie said matter-of-factly, approaching the group. “Let's go!” She walked right through them, smiling and waving at the two guests. She spoke as she turned on her heel and walked backwards, still addressing the duo. “Morning, you two. How are we today?”

The group followed her to the front doors.

“I was going to go pick some things up from the store… if you guys needed anything,” Y/n added quickly, her manners kicking in slowly, her brain jumping thoughts faster than she could keep track of. She was lucky she managed such a composed sentence as is, and felt blessed when both girls shook their heads ‘no’ in response to her offer.

“I got work,” Angel followed up gruffly.

The gang said goodbye when they reached the sidewalk, Charlie and Vaggie in a rush to get to their destination in Entertainment District at least a little on time. And while Angel was also headed that way, he lingered behind with Y/n, the image of the swaying bodies hanging from the iron gate he just passed under flashing behind his eyes.

He looked up at the metal work, his mind filling in the scene with the missing bloody pieces. Finally, he looked away, finding Y/n's eyes already on him. He smiled his most convincing smile.

“You gonna be alright, sugar?”

She nodded vigorously. Her gaze flicked to the wrought iron towering behind him, her brow raised knowingly. “Are you?”

“Yeah. Just come home safe.”

With a final lingering hug, they split ways for the evening.

________

“Ladies and gentlemen! I'm opening the first of its kind! A hotel that rehabilitates sinners!” The crowd grumbled. Half in annoyance, half in petty amusement. “Y'know? Cause hotels are for people passing through… temporarily.” Someone in the crowd cackled loudly, as if he were watching a stand up comedy routine. “I figure it would serve a purpose, a place to work towards redemption…yaaayyy.”

Y/n was surprised no one walked away from the TV display. She wondered why she hadn't herself. Morbid curiosity as to what exactly this unsettlingly cheery demon had to say rooted her to her spot on the sidewalk, and she understood suddenly, begrudgingly.

“Look, every single one of you has something good, deep down inside. I know you do. Maybe I'm not getting through to you…”

With a snap of her fingers, the camera went black before flashing back on, a piano appearing on top of the news anchor desk. Razzle and Dazzle shot into frame and assumed their respective positions. Then the number began.

“I have a dream, I'm here to tell…”

Y/n sat through a good chunk of the number, compelled to watch as if being a guest at said hotel made her obligated to. Though once she caught up to her senses, she quickly shook off the grimace of second hand embarrassment. Then with a flick of her tail and a twitch of her ears, she backed up away from the crowd, preparing to complete her errands.

Her back collided with something firm, and warm, and unmoving.

She sprung away with a hiss, her eyes narrowed in preparation to defend herself. Mostly with words. But also with fists, if it came to it.

The air buzzed. The sidewalk was alive with the chatter of both the demons around them and… something else. It rang right in Y/n's ears, muffling her hearing and her thoughts.

She assessed the demon in front of her.

Tall. Slim. Dapper in red.

Despite the rage that surged on his face, a smile remained, contradicting the emotion in his eyes.

Most notably though, were the dainty pair of antlers crowning his head. With a moment of speedy observation, Y/n's eyes raked over the red tufts of hair framing them, gathering that they weren't just a silly selective hairdo, but rather ears instead.

Another deer demon, Y/n realized, her surprise daring her to take a step closer to get a better look. All these years and I've never seen another like me before… what in the Seven Rings?…

She examined his face, looking for an extra set of eyes, another mouth, horns, scales, something to prove his laxed demon form was more than what meets the eye. Most she noted was the razor sharp teeth.

She wondered if underneath his tailored coat he would have a twitching fluffed tail just like hers. She wasn't going to skirt around him just to check.

Her eyes found his again, just as his fury melted into something more contemplative. His gaze flitted up and down her form, though not salaciously. His head tilted ever so slightly while his eyes narrowed fiercely.

Whatever he was thinking to himself, he wasn't convinced.

“I would say ‘take a picture, it'll last longer’ but it won't come cheap and I'm not on the clock.”

His glare finally dropped, eyes widening in recognition, borderline excitement. The static all around them intensified, crackling until it popped suddenly in Y/n's ear before disappearing altogether.

His broad grin turned shit-eating. “Well I'll be double-damned.”

“Do I know you?”

He breathed through a soft chuckle. “Evidently not, but I know you. I'd recognize that voice anywhere!” He flourished his hand. “The elusive, the tantalizing,” he clenched the very same hand in a tight, eager fist. “Y/n in the flesh!” Then, looking at his nails, examining them with a carefully crafted indifference. “I thought you'd been killed in an extermination long ago, how pleased I am to have been wrong.”

Y/n shifted uncomfortably on her feet. “Excuse me?”

His gaze flicked back to meet hers.

“I used to be a fan, believe it or not.” A cane materialized in the buck's hand, topped with a dazzling old-fashioned microphone. He twirled it with smooth expertise before pointing it quickly at the doe. “Is there anything more hilariously tragic than watching someone strive for stardom and failing miserably? Mm, perhaps!” He slammed the cane down on the floor resolutely. “But who doesn't love a good silent film every now and again?”

There was a moment of stillness between them as Y/n absorbed his words. She scanned his face, trying to assess how actively he believed what he was saying. His brow twitched, as if his own words took him by surprise. But his confidence and enthusiasm never wavered.

Silent film? I never made any silent films…

“I think you have the wrong person.”

He didn't miss a beat.

“Perky ears and distinguished markings? No, no. I'm quite sure.” His hand waved dismissively. “Much of your early work was a wonderful pastiche of a time gone by. Even your live performances maintained that oh-so cheeky modesty; a signature tactic of yours, I'm sure.”

She had to admit how impressed and, dare she say, flattered she was by his observation and opinion of her early work. Though, she knew better than to let her defenses down. He seemed keen enough on engaging her in conversation, and it was all rather tame, she supposed. Still, Y/n wasn't too convinced.

The doe had had her fair share of insatiable fanatics. Crazed sinners who take it upon themselves to seek her out on public streets. To use her to fulfill their fantasies, wherever and whenever they'd like.

But that was mostly in her early days. With Valentino gaining recognition as an overlord, it had been a long while since she'd had to worry about anyone daring to approach her so boldly. Or rather, at least, with the intent of not paying.

She stood her ground, trying to figure out if she needed to run. She probably should have either way.

“A fan, huh?”

“Yes, but not anymore.”

Whether she should be relieved or offended, the doe wasn't sure. She tentatively settled for relieved.

“What, not enough violence?” She quipped bitterly.

It was meant as a joke, something to dispel the tension that seemed to have formed between the two deer. But his face darkened with a twisted amusement.

“Now, dear,” his tone dripped with condescension, as if explaining something that was a natural given. “There could always be more violence.” Then, suddenly bored, inspecting his microphone with disinterest. “No, I simply don't care for that sort of entertainment.”

His words seemed perplexingly honest, like he simply couldn't be bothered to lie about something like that to begin with. Despite her already hesitant relief, she couldn't help the sarcasm that bubbled from her lips, mood turned sour by his attitude towards brutality.

“How unfortunate.” She adjusted her bags up her shoulder. “So, you're no longer a fan. Then…what do you want?”

“What I want? As I recall, you bumped into me, dearie! But, since you're asking-”

Y/n did not want to know what the buck was about to say, as she got the feeling that it wouldn't have been anything good. And she's glad she didn't have to; her phone rang with an incoming call.

She quickly took a step away and answered it with a flick of her thumb.

“Angel?”

“Hey, sugar! Where are you right now?”

“Uhh, Uptown Entertainment District, why?”

An explosion boomed from the other side of the line before Angel's voice floated back through. “Cherri's stirring up trouble over in Doomsday District,” he panted. “She says get your ass out here and shoot something.”

“Uhm…” The doe side-eyed the buck as she spoke quietly, hoping the spider heard her well enough over the mayhem that surrounded him. “I don't know, Angel. I-I think I'm alrig-”

“Come ON, this is the perfect way to end the-”

She could feel eyes and ears on her. It set her on edge, making her rush to get her point across.

“I've got another appointment coming up,” she blurted. When she heard no response, she continued nervously. “And I've still got some places to stop off at and, well… I don't think I should-”

“Say less, sugar. I gotcha.” Y/n breathed through the tension in her chest right as there was another explosion. Angel cursed to himself. “Gotta go, sweetheart. See ya at home!”

The call ended.

Y/n hissed to herself, suddenly exhausted as if the mere mention of her appointment drained her. With another hoist of her bag up her shoulder, she straightened and made to continue on her way, fully intending on bypassing the demon that still stood before her.

“Oh, just someone named, Angel Dust.”

Y/n stopped in her tracks, ears shifting to better hear the TV set behind her.

“The porn star?”

“You fucking would, Tom.”

“Not just Angel Dust, but Scarlet Eden, too!”

Y/n spun around, her ears flattening entirely. With a twitch of her tail, she corrected them until they sat tall and confident atop her head once more, though she felt quite the opposite.

The mention of her and Angel's name in association with the hotel on live television undoubtedly meant that the news would certainly get back to Val, and soon. It was something that they always knew was coming, though now that it was actually happening, Y/n couldn't help but scold herself for the nerves that made her heart pound.

A soft buzzing filled the air once more, that grainy, patronizing voice closer than it was before. “All these years, you'd think you'd have gotten over the stage fright, silly thing. A word of advice? Turn that frown upside down, dearie! It keeps everyone around you guessing.”

“Yeah, okay-” Y/n no longer had the patience for pleasantries. “Fuck off, bucko,” she dismissed with a roll of her eyes.

The demon's eye twitched as his smile widened, another contradiction of emotional display.

“Alastor will do just fine. Though, I do like the creativity!”

~~~~~~~~

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