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poisonheartfrog · 7 months

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Here's my piece for the Limited Life edition of @trafficzine, about Pearl, Big B, and Grian dying outside the border in the finale:

The rules of the game can’t be broken, but they can be bent.

That’s what brings Pearl, Big B, and Grian to a barren hilltop in the middle of the night as Grian explains his trick for getting across the world border.

Pearl is exhausted after their many trips up to, down from, and across Skynet, and she can tell her allies feel the same. They’re all covered in dirt, blood, and scrapes. Big B is restless, constantly checking over his shoulder and shifting his weight from foot to foot. Seeing him so nervous only makes the pit in her own stomach worse.

Grian is better at hiding his anxiety, but it’s still there in the ways his hands twitch as he sets down a dispenser.

She’s hanging a lot of hope on Grian being able to pull this off, that there really is a way beyond the border.

Pearl reaches her hand out towards the barrier in question. There’s no surface there, nothing to actually touch, except maybe a slight buzz of magical energy. She still feels air under her fingertips, but it’s as unyielding as a solid slab of stone. Diagonal bands of teal light inch along the border, casting eerie shadows across her hand.

Cleo’s blood is under her fingernails. She wants more.

The click of the dispenser going off snaps her attention back to Grian’s contraption. A dark oak boat sits on a puddle of water, split in half by the border. Grian climbs in and rows through like it’s nothing.

Pearl gasps. “That’s so cheaty. I love it.”

Big B laughs, a look of slight confusion on his face. “So wait, what?”

Pearl guesses it’s her turn now.

She drops a boat in its condensed item form into the dispenser. She flicks the lever. Nothing happens. Did she already make a mistake? No, she flicks it again and the dispenser does its magic, conjuring a whole boat in front of her.

She lowers herself down into the boat and her left shoulder passes through the border without her even trying. She feels that slight current of energy again, a little stronger this time.

She pushes off the ground with one oar and pulls forward with the other, with the usual gracelessness of rowing a boat on dry land. The border is closer and closer and then with a shock of static electricity throughout her whole body, she’s on the other side.

Once out of her boat, she swings her axe down to break it back into an item. The diamond blade bounces off the wood without even leaving a mark.

Grian goes back to get Big B and the pair row through triumphantly.

Once they’re all on the other side, Grian lets them in on a wonderful secret. “Here’s the thing about being beyond the veil,” he says, “we’re already dead.” There’s a glint of mischief in his dark eyes.

Grian does always have a flair for the dramatic, but when he swings a sword at her to demonstrate, it hits her with about as much force as a feather. She attempts an axe swing back at him and then Big B. It similarly fails to connect. Her whole body feels a bit numb, now that she thinks about it.

Her time is still ticking away, but she feels like she can finally breathe instead of thinking how much she wants to rip someone’s throat out with her teeth.

As Grian demonstrates that they can still break blocks and damage mobs inside the border, she gives Big B a conspiratorial smile.

He grins back, his face lighting up under his war paint.

They’re here. They’re really here, where even her standing on this grass should be an impossibility.

Maybe being the last ones standing isn’t so impossible either.

Grian forges ahead. Pearl follows behind him, with Big B after her.

Grian swerves too far from the border and winces like he’s been punched, despite there being nothing around.

Pearl can’t blame him because she immediately makes the same mistake. There’s no way to know when you’ve gone too far, only the sudden phantom pain. Why would there be? They’ve already ignored the universe’s equivalent of a giant flashing sign that says “Don’t go here!”. If you die from going farther out, that’s just paying the price.

So Pearl hugs the border. She reaches her hand towards it and from this side her fingers pass through it as easily as if it really was just air.

She draws her hand back and slings her axe over her shoulder.

This might be one of the best ideas Grian has ever had.

It really does feel like cheating. The play is almost over and they’re sneaking around backstage instead of finishing their scene. It’s invigorating, the feeling of a trick well played, of breaking the world apart at the seams.

The trio keeps on walking. As they leave a spruce forest for a rocky plateau, Pearl watches two spiders climb the border, each of their eight legs waving as if they were swimming in mid air. There’s something almost hypnotic to the motion.

“We obviously can’t spend the next few hours here, but-” Grian breaks off in surprise when he sees the spiders.

“I don't know about you, but I could spend the next few hours here.” Pearl replies.

Grian laughs at the spiders and Big B lets out an uncertain “oh”.

Grian runs ahead. Big B stays back with her. One hand grips the hilt of his sword.

His red eyes meet hers with a pained smile and he says “Well you know, Pearl, I can't- I can't.”

She can’t acknowledge the seriousness in his voice because that would mean breaking the spell. Big B can’t be almost out of time. They can’t be anything other than safe here.

So she laughs and runs on ahead.

“That’s true.” She admits quietly.

A little while later Pearl and her allies reach the ocean. She dives in, now leading the charge ahead of Grian. Big B still hangs towards the back with very reasonable caution.

Swimming in full plate armor is about as easy as rowing a boat on land, but Pearl makes do. She spots a school of tropical fish and kills one with her axe only for its body to drift out of reach in the current.

It probably would have tasted terrible anyway.

She pops her head back above the surface. Behind all the bamboo and sugarcane, the Mean Gills’ base is deserted. The beach house has certainly seen better days. Half of the foundation is scarred and splintered from TNT blasts and the porch is littered with broken glass.

Scott and Martyn are probably still up on Skynet, which means their crops are free for the taking.

Stealing from them one more time can’t hurt, right?

Pearl tears wheat and carrots from the soil. Most of them go flying out of reach farther inside the border, but she manages to keep hold of a few.

The group briefly discusses where the Mean Gills might be and then all get a good laugh when Grian drops his loaf of bread in the ocean.

As they approach the corner of the world, Grian points towards the TIES base. “Scott’s clocked us.”

The Mean Gills and what’s left of TIES are spread out behind the squat base of the stone tower and its defaced bowtie. Etho sits on a horse, watching them from the path. Martyn and Impulse charge down the steps towards the beach while Scott cuts across the hill.

Pearl swims on ahead, watching as their enemies take position on top of dirt and stone eyesore of Etho’s mob farm. She can’t can’t wait to see the look on Scott’s face when he realizes they’re invincible.

Scott stands right at the edge and peers down at them, his bow in hand. His clothes are tattered and a bit singed. There’s grim determination in his eyes as he nocks an arrow and pulls back the bowstring.

“Hello!” Pearl smiles up at him as cheerfully as if they were meeting up for lunch rather than trying to kill each other.

“Hi!” Scott fires. The arrow misses as Big B echoes her hello.

“How’s it going?” Pearl says, just as brightly.

Scott responds with another arrow.

It hits, piercing her armor and lodging just above her heart.

The pain is even worse because it’s unexpected. Grian was wrong. You can try to bend the rules as much as you want, but they will snap back into place like a rubber band.

“Ow! What? They can get us!” She cries out.

They barely even had a plan, just a naive hope that they could hurt their enemies without getting hurt themselves.

The fight breaks out in earnest, arrows and shouts flying with abandon.

Pearl dives towards the seafloor and grabs fistfuls of the arrows that miss, barely noticing the ones that find purchase in her body.

“Oh no, I’m dead.” Big B says matter of factly.

Pearl lets out a horrified gasp as she sees his body dissolve into smoke.

Adrenaline propels her through the water. Scott and Impulse congratulate Martyn on his kill. If she could she’d strike them all down right then and there to avenge him.

But Scott and Impulse keep shooting at her and she has no way to fight back. She can barely pay attention to what’s going on through the pain.

Where did Etho go?

Where did Grian go?

If only she could just swim a little farther.

The seawater turns pink with her blood. The armor that failed to protect her is now dragging her towards the bottom. She tries to breathe but her lungs only fill with water and sand.

In the dark seconds before respawn she reminds herself that she still has time.

Before the light comes pouring back in she remembers that Big B doesn’t.

#life series #limited life #pearlescentmoon #bigbstatz #grian #traffic zine #poisonheartposts

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rubyreduji · 11 months

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eat your young | the games pt 1

tags: hunger games!au, fake dating, angst warnings: death, killing, violence wc: 5.1k an: we are in the arena i repeat we are in the arena aka yall are about to be real unhappy with me

m.list

This has to be a joke.

About a hundred yards in front of you is the Cornucopia filled with lots of goodies for everyone. A few bags and other supplies are scattered in front of it for those who aren’t brave enough to get into the midst of the battle quite yet. That’s all pretty standard for the games. What’s not standard is the rest of the arena.

Surrounding the ground that the Cornucopia and the plates the tributes are standing on is water. Past the water you can see other land masses, each looking a bit different than the next. Islands. Your arena is based on islands.

That means there’s only two options once the countdown hits zero; run into the heart of the Cornucopia, or swim away to one of the other islands. It sounds like a lose-lose situation for anyone who can’t swim and is too inept to survive the blood bath.

You also note how the arena’s suspiciously well designed for people who are good swimmers, like certain tributes who have grown up around large bodies of water. The only good thing about the bloodbath is that due to needing the supplies inside the Cornucopia, it’s unlikely any of the District 4 tributes will chase after anyone who opts to swim away once the games start.

Your eyes glance around at the other tributes. The careers are spread out, but you’re pretty sure you can make it to the Cornucopia before some of them, which gives you a good chance to get what you need and get out with minimal damage.

You flit your gaze back to the mouth of the Cornucopia. You squint a bit to get a better view and you finally see it. An axe. There are a few bags that you scope out as well that you hope have something good in them. Your eyes glance up at the countdown. There’s only five more seconds left.

Five.

You ready your legs and brain to start to run.

Four.

You train your eyes onto the axe. It’s the most important thing to get.

Three.

You can fight your way out of the bloodbath, you just need to get the axe first.

Two.

You’ll grab as many bags as you see fit afterwards and then get the hell out of there.

One.

You hope Jihoon can swim.

Boom.

The sound of the starting canon fires and you’re moving without even thinking. You can see someone else making the exact same beeline you are in the corner of your eye. You can’t worry about them just yet.

You’re not the first to make it to the Cornucopia, but you are one of the first. Many of the careers stop and pick up some of the smaller weapons scattered in front of the Cornucopia so they are armed right away.

One of the boys from District 2, Jeonghan, is already at the Cornucopia when you approach, but you’re closer to the axe than he is, and you reach down and snatch it before he can. He grabs the weapon next to him, a throwing knife, and hurls it at you. The knife flies through the air and slices right through your left arm and you hiss, but don’t let it slow you down as you turn to flee.

More careers are closing in on the Cornucopia as you try to leave and you swing your axe at them, trying to ward them off. The District 1 girl actually backs up, but the one of the District 4 boys keeps coming towards you and you use all your might to swing your axe right into his leg. He lets out a shout of pain and you quickly yank your axe out of his leg and continue running. Try and swim now.

You’re able to grab the throwing knife Jeonghan threw at you and a couple scattered bags as you start off in the direction that you told Jihoon to go. You’re almost to the water when you see a figure hunched over the ground. No, hunched over a body on the ground. After closer inspection you realize it’s the District 12 boys. Both of them.

Before you know what you’re doing, you’re moving towards them. It’s not just you though. Another tribute is approaching them as well and you pick up your pace. Just as the other tribute goes to attack you bury your axe right into his neck. He lets out a strangled gasp and his throat makes a squelching noise that makes you want to vomit before his body hits the ground.

You can’t focus on him though, because the boy is still crying on top of his friend’s dead body and you have to grab him by the arm and pull him to stand.

“C’mon. We have to go.”

“No, no, I can’t leave him! Please, I-,” his voice comes out in broken sobs and you do your best to keep your strong face on.

“I know, I know, but we have to go. We can’t stay here.” You tug on his arm a bit more. You can’t leave him here with these monsters.

“Please, give me a second, I need to- his token.” You understand and you nod. He quickly searches his friend’s body before finding what he’s looking for. You stand guard as he presses a kiss to the other boy’s forehead. After that he finally lets you drag him away and into the water.

“Where are they?” Jihoon whines. He was luckily able to find Wonwoo and Seokmin both after making it to the closest island. Jihoon’s not the best swimmer though and he nearly drowned at least three times trying to get here and now he’s cold, wet, and there’s still no sign of you.

The group is too far away from the Cornucopia to spot you and all they can do is wait. The more time goes on though the more progressively worried Jihoon gets. He told you not to go to the Cornucopia and if you die because you were too stubborn to listen he’s going to be so mad at you.

Jihoon is mulling over all the ways he can curse you out in the grave if you die when Seokmin speaks up. “Look at the shore!”

Jihoon’s head perks up and he looks to see you trudging through the shallows onto the bank of the water. Jihoon smiles when he sees the axe attached to your belt. His smile slowly drops when he notices that you’re not alone though. You’ve got a firm grip on the boy’s wrist as you guide him onto the ground where he promptly falls down and starts to cry.

Your eyes skim the tree line and when you meet Jihoon’s gaze you send him a pleading look. Jihoon quickly moves to go meet you, Wonwoo and Seokmin on his heels. On top of the axe and the boy it seems you were able to grab two bags as well, all varying in sizes. How you were able to swim from island to island with all of that in tow, Jihoon will never know. You’ve always been amazing though.

You’re dumping everything onto the dirt when Jihoon approaches you and pulls you into a hug. You let him, tentatively wrapping your arms around his neck. You two stay like that for a moment before you finally pull away.

“What’s with him?” Wonwoo whispers, breaking up the moment.

“His district partner died during the bloodbath and he was crying over his body,” you say in a hushed whisper. The boy is crying so hard though, Jihoon doubts he can hear a word they’re saying. “What was I supposed to do? Leave him there?”

Everybody’s morals don’t allow them to say yes and you give them a look that says they’re not allowed to speak on it again.

“Hansol,” you address the boy and Jihoon is slightly surprised you were able to remember his name. The boy doesn’t react though, and you sigh and sink down onto the ground with him. You pull the boy into your body and he latches onto you, burying his face in your neck. You pet his hair while shushing him in a soft tone.

The other three boys stand and watch, not sure what to do in this situation. You don’t seem too sure yourself either but at least Hansol’s loud sobs have turned into muffled cries. You rock your bodies back and forth and then lyrics start to flow from your mouth.

It shocks Jihoon to hear his own song coming from someone’s mouth, let alone his song of mourning. Something pulls at Jihoon’s heart at hearing you sing to the young boy, comforting him after his friend died.

A part of Jihoon knows this is an intimate, private moment, but another part of Jihoon hopes this is being broadcasted. People need to know the horrors of this game, and the Capitol citizens should hear the songs of the people mourning. They need to know that the tributes aren’t just pawns in a game. That they’re people who have feelings and that this isn’t something fun and exciting to watch.

This is what you meant when you told Jihoon that his songs inspire people. He’s finally starting to get it.

“Y/N,” it’s Wonwoo who speaks up, “we really do have to get going.”

“Hansol,” you address the boy again. “We have to move further into the woods. It’s not safe here. We’ll find shelter soon, okay?”

The boy sniffles more and finally sits up and nods. Jihoon can now get a good look at him. His eyes are red and his brown hair falls into his face, wet from the water. He’s still got a bit of a baby face and if the Capitol thought Jihoon looked innocent, then Jihoon doesn’t even want to know what they thought of Hansol.

Hansol picks himself up and you do as well. You grab your axe off your belt and pick up the bags you grabbed.

“Give me the knife,” Seokmin says to you and you give him a look of disdain.

“No.”

“You already have the axe, that’s not fair.”

“You don’t tell me what to do,” you growl.

“You’re not the leader here!”

“And you are? Yeah right. I bet you would have run into the Cornucopia if I didn’t tell you not to.” Seokmin doesn’t have a response to that, proving you right. “For the time being I’m in charge. After me it’s Wonwoo. Come now, we’re burning daylight.”

With that you walk into the forest, and everyone is at least smart enough to follow.

Jihoon walks by your side as you make your way farther into the island. This particular one is modeled after a forest, but it’s different then the forests you’re used to from back home.

“I think we’re far enough in that we can hide here for now. I don’t think anyone else swam to this island,” Jihoon tells you. The cannons signaling the end of the blood bath went off a while ago (eight of them, one-third down in just a few minutes), but you’re sure that careers are staying with their pile of goodies for the time being.

You stop walking and turn to the rest of your group. Hansol is standing at the back, looking scared and tired. “Let’s try and find some clean water. Seokmin, can you start a fire so we can dry off more?” You then turn to Jihoon. “Ji, help me look through these bags.”

As much as you like the other three boys you’ve gained as allies, in the back of your mind you remind yourself that in the end, it’s you and Jihoon and you have to do everything to protect yourselves. If that means not 100% trusting your allies, then that’s what it means.

Jihoon has the bags slung on his shoulder he drops them to the ground. You two sit around them as you go through them. One holds two small bundles of rope, a few first aid supplies, an empty water canteen, and a bottle of iodine. The other bag holds a sleeping bag and a small tarp. It’s a good pick, but not great, especially with no food rations and a group of five people. You also wish there was another knife or something, but you guess beggars can’t be choosers.

“Uhm, Y/N?” You look up from where you’re sitting to see Hansol standing over you. “I uhm, have this as well, but I can’t use it.” In the palm of Hansol’s hand is a utility knife. You didn’t see it when you first saved Hansol so it most of been in his pocket.

“Oh no Hansol, you keep that. You might need it for protection.”

“No I can’t use it, it- Chan.” Hansol looks like he’s on the verge of tears again and you get it. It’s the weapon that was used to kill his district partner. His friend.

You gently take the knife out of his hand. “I see. Don’t worry about it.” Hansol nods and scampers off, back to where Seokmin is attempting to start a fire. You sigh and drop the knife into the pile of other items.

“You okay?” Jihoon reaches out and grabs your hand. Right, you two are supposed to be dating. You scoot closer to him and hold his hand tighter.

“He’s the same age as my sister,” you says softly.

“I know.”

“When it comes time, we’re going to have to split from them.”

“I know.” Jihoon squeezes your hand. You’re a bit happy for this fake dating situation as you find Jihoon’s hand comforting in yours. “Let’s not think about it right now, okay?” You nod.

Suddenly Jihoon gasps. “What?”

“You’re bleeding, have you been bleeding this whole time?” Jihoon lets go of your hand to reach out to your arm and you remember that Jeonghan cut you with the knife during the blood bath. The blood has already dried in a long scab on your arm meaning Jeonghan couldn’t have cut that deep, but it will still probably scar. Now that you think about it you remember it stinging like crazy while you were swimming, but then you got distracted by other things.

“It’s fine, no big deal. Don’t worry Ji, I’m okay.” Jihoon doesn’t look like he trusts you but he drops the subject. He does pick your hand back up though and you trace your thumb over the back of his hand.

You two sit there for a while until Seokmin finally gets the fire going. You and Jihoon repack all of the items and move back to join the group. Your socks are soaked and your feet are cold so you pull your feet out of your boots and place them close to the fire. The boys all do the same.

You feel something touching your ankle and you look down to see Jihoon playing with the bracelet. “Is this from Joshua?”

“Yeah, my district token. I miss him.” Jihoon just nods solemnly.

Once you’re starting to feel dryer you slide your boots back on and stand up. You walk a bit further into the trees until you find what you’re looking for: a thick, long, sturdy stick. You take it back to where the boys are sitting and they look at you curiously but you ignore them.

You dig around in one of the bags until you find one of the bits of rope. You take the throwing knife off of your belt and place it against the stick before attaching them together with the rope. You shake it a bit to check it’s secure before handing it to Jihoon. A makeshift spear.

“Ah, thank you,” Jihoon says. He then leans into your ear. “You know, I’m not that good with this thing. You should have given the knife to Seokmin.”

You shrug. “I care about you more. I’ll give him Hansol’s knife later, it’s fine.” You then stand again. “Wonwoo-ah, come help me look for water.”

Wonwoo doesn’t complain, just puts his boots back on and follows after you.

Despite being your pick of ally, Wonwoo is the biggest threat in your group. You don’t like Seokmin that much, but you can tell deep down he’s just a scared kid like Hansol. Wonwoo on the other hand, is smart, and that’s more dangerous than anything else. It’s why you’re perfectly happy keeping Wonwoo unarmed and not left unattended with Jihoon.

“So, you and Jihoon?” You can’t tell if he’s teasing you or trying to uncover your ploy on TV. Either way it makes you frown.

“So me and Jihoon what?”

“You two are cute, that’s all,” Wonwoo hums. You glance over at him and Wonwoo is looking back. There’s an almost panicked look in his eye and you realize he forgot you two were on camera right now. He actually was trying to ask you about it. So maybe this time Wonwoo wasn’t out to get you, but you still have to keep your guard up.

“We’re in the middle of the woods, there has to be water somewhere,” you say to change the subject.

“Not for sure, the Gamemakers could have designed everything so it doesn’t need water to live.”

“They wouldn’t leave us without water though, that would make for a very quick game.” You sigh, “I guess we have some iodine to use, but I’d rather not risk drinking sea water if we don’t have to.”

“Let’s go back to the group, we don’t need water right now and maybe we’ll find some later. If not, there’s five of us, someone has to be sponsoring at least one of us.” You agree with Wonwoo and you two turn around to go back to where you started.

When you get back to the group the fire is already out and the boys are standing around. “We should get going before night falls. We’ll need to find food as well,” Seokmin says.

You nod and turn back around once again. Jihoon catches up to walk beside you and you two walk a few feet ahead of the other.

“I gave Seokmin the knife, I told him not to flash it around Hansol too.”

“Thanks,” you tell him. You glance behind you to see Seokmin taking the rear position. Good. Wonwoo walks in front of Seokmin and Hansol in front of him. Just like little ducks in a row. “The careers might come out hunting at night. Especially the ones who can swim.”

Jihoon groans. “I’d rather not have to do anymore swimming.”

“Same, but we don’t know what dangers could be on this island.”

As if on cue (they just might be) birds start to attack your group. The Gamemakers think they’re so funny. You try your best to dodge the birds, swinging your axe at them while also trying not to hit Jihoon. There’s too many of them though so you have to resort to running.

The birds continue to let out shrill screeches as they dive bomb you. You can hear the commotion of the boys also trying their best to get away from the birds.

“Wait, wait!” Jihoon shouts. “I know these birds!” Jihoon lets out a trill, mimicking what sounds like a bird call and suddenly the birds retreat.

It takes a moment for everyone to catch their breath and regroup. There are a few scrapes on Wonwoo’s face and Seokmin’s hands but otherwise no one looks too badly hurt.

“What the hell were those?” Hansol asks.

“Swallow-hawks,” Wonwoo answers. “I should have known sooner.”

“Yeah, can someone explain that more in depth?” You ask.

“Swallow-hawks are mutts that were bred during the first rebellion to attack rebels and any other threats. The only way to get rid of them is to mimic their call because then they’ll see you as one of their own,” Jihoon explains.

You suddenly remember that back in District 7 Jihoon’s father works as a historian, he must have passed some of his knowledge down to his son. That doesn’t explain knowing the bird call though, so you ask him about it.

“Well, I learned the swallow-hawk call after learning about them, but I do know a good majority of bird calls. I didn’t mean to pick up on the skill, but I like to hear the birds sing,” Jihoon tells you and you can’t help but think that’s adorable. He really is a songbird.

“So…are these things edible because I’m hungry right now and I think Y/N and I killed a couple while fighting for our lives,” Seokmin says. You look down to see that in fact, there are a few dead swallow-hawks on the ground.

“Yeah, yeah, they’re edible. Let’s find a better place to make shelter and then we can settle in for the night,” Jihoon says.

You guys still don’t find any water, but you do find a somewhat secluded place to take camp for the night. Seokmin starts another fire and cooks up the birds. There’s just enough to share between the five of you. In all honesty it tastes horrible, but it’s food.

“We should take turns taking watch,” Wonwoo announces.

“I’ll take the first one,” you say.

“No.” You’re expecting the protest to come from Wonwoo, but it actually comes from Jihoon. “You didn’t sleep last night.”

How did he know that?

Soonyoung. Fuck.

“I’ll take first watch,” Seokmin says. You’re still not completely happy with the idea but it’s clear that you’re in no place to disagree.

“Who should get the sleeping bag?” Jihoon asks as he grabs it out of the bag.

“Y/N grabbed it, they should get it,” Hansol says before anyone else can speak up. You want to protest again but Jihoon shoots you a look and you shut up.

You grab the sleeping bag and roll it out before climbing in. You are admittedly, a little tired. Once you’re done situation yourself in the bag you realize there’s quite a bit more room.

“Jihoon-ah.” The boy looks up from where he’s sitting and you motion for him to climb into the sleeping bag as well. He looks a bit flustered at the idea, but eventually joins you.

You two are pressed up against each other, but it’s not uncomfortable and you’ll be able to stay warm. You’re just drifting off to sleep when the anthem starts to play. Right, the nightly recap of the tributes who died. There’s a small break in the trees that you can see the sky.

The first person to appear is a tribute from District 5 and you cringe when you see his face.

“Y/N?” Jihoon whispers.

“I killed him. I killed him, Ji. He was going for Hansol and I just reacted and then my axe was in his throat.” The words make you want to puke. Not even ten minutes into the games and you killed someone. You did exactly what they wanted you to do and it makes you sick.

You feel Jihoon’s hand find yours under the sleeping bag. “You were protecting Hansol. We all do what we have to. You are not a bad person Y/N.”

“He probably has a family and friends and I-,” you choke.

“It was either him or Hansol. You were just defending someone else when they couldn’t do it themselves. The same way you are with me. You’re a protector, Y/N. We all do things we’re not proud of, but you have to remind yourself that these aren’t normal circumstances.”

You’re about to say something in response, when you hear a small sob. You look up at the sky to see Chan’s face disappearing. Right, Hansol lost one of his friends today. You wonder about the other boy from District 12. The youngest one here. What kind of person was he?

You can hear Seokmin consoling Hansol and you bury your body further into Jihoon. You shift around until your head is resting on the area that’s not quite his shoulder yet not quite his chest. You can feel Jihoon’s chin on the top of your head.

“We’ll get through this,” Jihoon whispers to you, and you trust yourself to believe him.

Jihoon doesn’t know how long he’s been asleep, but the sound of whispered voices wakes him up. He thinks it might just be Seokmin and Wonwoo trading shifts but then he realizes it sounds like a lot more people than just two people, and those aren’t Seokmin and Wonwoo’s voices.

“I saw the little one swim this way during the blood bath. And wherever the little one goes, they go. They have to be on this island.”

It’s the careers. And they’re talking about you and Jihoon. It sounds like there’s maybe four of them.

Jihoon jostles you until he can hear your breathing change.

“Jihoon?” You whisper. He places his hand over your mouth, forcing you to listen. You slowly start to climb out of the sleeping bag and Jihoon does as well. He reaches for his spear and hopes you’re reaching for your axe.

It’s difficult to see in the dark, but there’s just enough moonlight to see Wonwoo is sitting guard, Seokmin’s knife in his hand. He seems to hear the same thing as well.

You’re behind Jihoon as you press your lips up against his ear. “Wake up Seokmin, I’m gonna wake up Hansol.” Jihoon nods and moves to where Seokmin is sleeping.

Jihoon nudges at Seokmin, who wakes up with a gasp and Jihoon realizes a second to late he should have covered Seokmin’s mouth as well.

“They’re over here!” Jihoon hears one of them shout. No being subtle anymore.

“Run!” You shout. You have a grip on Hansol’s arm as you pull him up. Jihoon takes off, everyone else on his heels. He’s able to glance back for a second to see you taking up the rear.

Jihoon keeps running and running and he has no clue where he’s going or what he’s doing but he knows he just has to keep running. The only problem is…he can’t hear any footsteps following him, his enemy’s or his ally’s.

Jihoon stops and turns around to realize he’s completely lost and alone. He slowly starts to jog back in the direction he came from. He doesn’t want to run into the careers, but he needs to find you and the others.

“You piece of shit!” Jihoon hears a shout from not too far away. It sounds like one of the career girls.

“You’re one to talk!” And that is definitely you. Jihoon starts to make his way to where your voices are coming from, still screaming at each other mixed in with sounds of grunts.

When you finally come into sight, Jihoon can see that you two are engaged in a physical fight, your axe thrown to the side. The lighting is better in this area and Jihoon can see everything happening. You’re currently overpowering the girl, quite literally straddling her while you shove her face into the dirt.

The girl gets loose from your grip for a second though, and punches you square in the jaw.

“Fuck!” You punch her right back. Jihoon knows he should do something, he should stop just standing here, but instead he just stands and stares. Why are you kinda hot right now?

The girl throws you off of her and you scramble to your feet. While the girl attempts to get up as well you lunge for your axe. She lunges after you though, her body attaching to your back. You thrash around to try and displace her.

Out of the corner of his eye Jihoon sees something and he’s yelling at you before he can fully process what’s happening. “Y/N!”

A boy jumps out of the trees. Maybe the District 4 boy, Mingyu? You quickly swing around to see him. You lift your axe up and try to hit the boy, but the girl hinders your movement. The most you can do is counter Mingyu’s attacks with his trident. You’re going to be overpowered. Jihoon runs to get to you. He’s still not good at using the spear, but it’s better than standing and watching you try to fight both of them yourself.

Mingyu’s back is to Jihoon when he approaches and Jihoon is about to jab his spear right into his side without him being seen. Mingyu groans and drops his trident. He whips around and Jihoon is now remembering just how much taller Mingyu is than him.

“You little vermin. You’re gonna pay for that.” Mingyu grabs Jihoon and slams him up against a tree. His hand is closed around Jihoon’s throat and Jihoon can hear you screaming.

Just as Jihoon is starting to feel lightheaded Mingyu is knocked off of him. The butt end of your axe slams into the side of Mingyu’s head and he stumbles back. You’re standing alone but Jihoon can see a sheen of blood on your axe so he can only assume what happened to the District 1 girl. He didn’t hear a canon go off, but he was pretty distracted by something else.

Mingyu must realize this too. “What have you done?”

He scrambles to grab his trident off the ground and he charges at you. Your weapons clang against each other as you try to get the upper hand. You’re able to dodge one of his attacks before slicing your axe into his arm. It’s clear that even though Mingyu is large in size, and from a career district, you two are well matched in combat skills.

Mingyu sweeps his trident low, catching your leg and knocking you down. Right as he’s about to stab into you, Jihoon hears a familiar screech and suddenly the swallow-hawks are dive bombing again. Only this time, they’re only attacking Mingyu. The birds must still recognize you and Jihoon from earlier.

Mingyu screams and runs off as you stand up and run towards Jihoon. You drop your axe and grab him by the shoulders, pulling him into a hug.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I will be.” His throat hurts a bit from where Jihoon had a grip on him, but it could be worse. “Are you?”

“I am now that you’re okay, Songbird.” Songbird. The nickname used to be taunting, but how can you mean it any bad way when you say it like that while looking at him with those big eyes. He can’t help that he feels butterflies in his stomach, even if this isn’t the moment for it.

Once Jihoon finally pulls his gaze away from you, he realizes the actual bird sounds have stopped which means the careers must have fled. You grab Jihoon’s hand with one hand, and your axe with the other.

“Let’s go find the others.”

You two walk around the island looking for the others, but don’t see them. You two eventually come back across your camp from earlier, everything still where you left it. Either the careers didn’t want your stuff or they were too busy chasing after you to grab it.

You and Jihoon pack everything up and sling it over your shoulders, just in case, before continuing looking for the others.

“Look,” you squeeze Jihoon’s hand and point ahead of you two with your axe. Jihoon squints. Standing out near the edge of the island, in the tree line, is Wonwoo. You and Jihoon quickly make your way over to him to see him staring at something.

Jihoon slows down when he realizes what Wonwoo is staring at you and lets out a soft gasp. There’s a body lying in the opening with a knife in their stomach. It’s not just any body though.

It’s Seokmin.

taglist: @hotricewoozi @embrace-themagic @066hc @biromogeulworld @cinnamoroxie @hoeforcheol @milkyruins @famouspoetrydinosaur @bigtittycommitte @parkchaeyoungsbish @wooahao8 @belladaises @candidupped @justwonus-recs @im-gemmy

join the eat your young taglist: here!

#woozi #lee jihoon #woozi fanfic #woozi series #woozi angst #woozi x gn reader #seventeen #seventeen series #seventeen fanfic #seventeen angst #svt woozi #woozi x reader #gn reader #kpop #kpop fanfic #rru.fics #rru.eyy #rru.writes #★ sfw

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apomaro-mellow · 1 year

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Part 4

So a reminder, I made a post in the past about how i wanna do this story justice and make it a full fledged fic and not just the stream of consciousness it's been. So I think I'll be doing 2 more parts that hit major beats and after that I'll be outlining and eventually posting the actual full bodied fic. Anyways enjoy!

It was chaos, right up until the end. While Vecna had been on his last legs, cornered animals were always at their most dangerous. Rather than using his mind, which was being attacked by El, he used his actual hand to sink his claws into Steve and pull them over the cliff together. Every hit along the way hurt but Steve wasted no time, making sure his axe was swinging with every breath he was still taking.

When they landed on the ground below, Steve needed a moment to catch his breath. While Vecna broke his fall, it was still quite the descent. He heard two voices calling out his name when the claws that had released him during the plummet pierced him again. Steve let out a cry and plunged his axe into Vecna's chest furiously.

He heard El and Will calling out to him again and even felt the pull of trying to lift him up. But Vecna was still attached, and in his desperation trying to get into Steve's mind and break him.

"Get! Outta! My! Head!" Each word was a stab in the chest yet he didn't let go. El was tired. Will was tired. But they still needed to close the gate.

And for a shred of a moment, both Steve and Vecna's intentions combined.

"Go!", they both shouted together, the intensity of it propelling the two others back through the portal. Steve wanted to save them. Vecna wanted to get as far away as possible.

El barely had a moment to catch her breath on the other side before Eddie was on her.

"Where is he?! Where's Steve?!"

She felt as small as she had ever been and it took Nancy shaking Eddie to get him to back off. He looked so stricken El was sure she'd never forget it.

"Close it", he said through a sob.

"But Ste-", Dustin started.

"I said FUCKING CLOSE IT!"

El wasted no time then, sealing it all, hopefully for good this time.

Eddie remembered Steve's words, as everyone else collapsed around him as the gravity fell upon their shoulders.

"Don’t keep the gate open. Don’t open it again. Don’t come looking for me.”

Don't come looking for him. Well why would he need to look when he knew exactly where his husband was? In a hell world where everything was trying to kill you. So he's either lost an already dead husband or condemned him to a fate worse than death.

"I gotta get home", he said in the silence. Or maybe it wasn't silence. Someone was crying. Maybe two someones.

But he had a daughter to get home to. Lucy, who thought she'd be waking up in a world with two dads.

Eddie rubbed his face. "I gotta-", he cut himself off with a choked sound. "I gotta figure out how to tell Lucy."

"Eddie, you shouldn't be alone", Robin said, trying to put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Eddie shrugged it off. "I can't be around anyone right now. Just-just give me until tomorrow? Alright?"

He would have to tell Lucy then because he could never lie to her. And this was just too big to keep from her.

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

About three years later and he still finds himself struggling to tell the story. Because now it's not 'Your dad died as a noble hero' but 'One dad sacrificed the other dad'.

"So, you guys have been doing this since high school?", she asked once they were settling in the guest bed at the Byers-Hopper residence. Lucy definitely felt like she'd outgrown sleepovers with her dads, but Eddie wasn't letting her out of his sight tonight.

"Technically that was only my second time dealing with it. Your pops though, he was a regular veteran. We should've been getting discounts at the grocery store."

Despite the sad story, Lucy found herself smiling. "So, what now?"

"Now..." Eddie sighed. "Now we get him back. And we make that bastard pay."

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #a lil shorter #but i did say a full fledged one was coming #so enjoy this for now

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snoutbleed · 6 months

Text

THE EARTH SPITS WHAT SHOULD BE RETURNED

A chapter story for LAID TO WASTE, an occult setting. Mature content ahead.

"Something is in the dirt...unfortunately, it's not my enemies."

Chapter I ❯ THE SPRINT Chapter II ❯ ✫ Chapter III ❯ THE MESSAGE Chapter IV ❯ Coming Soon Chapter V ❯ Coming Soon

II - THE RESPITE

(1.7k words)

200 miles later, civilization crept through the trees, sourced from the flickering fluorescent sign of a remote motel named Paradise Suites. Maddox craved an actual bed—since his escape, he slept in drain pipes or abandoned homes at the expense of his spine.

Today, he walked longer than usual. Eroded architecture and barred windows were more attractive than the woods. He knew the risks associated with putting his presence out where search parties could go, so the additional miles would be his safety net. Hopefully.

His pace slowed as stepped further away from the trees. The closer he shuffled to the road, the more his heart climbed, his breath bouncing as well. Maddox’s mind screamed at him not to go here but he must, for his comfort. When his soles touched the asphalt he felt pain burst in his skull. It sent him to his knees, grabbing his hair with enough strength to rip it out.

The hound’s expression warped his eyes shut. He growled. “I know I shouldn’t be here, but I can’t keep going like this,” he thought. He thought. The pain spiked him into soil. Nails dug into his skin, a cutting sensation numbed by the inner voice banging his frontal lobe. Yet, he couldn’t curse the cluster headache—despite the hurt, that same pain influenced his escape.

Maddox’s only ally was that inner voice, the one shutting down thoughts of bad decisions by swinging an axe to his skull. Much to his annoyance, that acknowledgment counted as capitulation and the pain dulled just enough to where the hound could open his eyes again.

“Whatever happens…I’ll get out of it,” he thought.

The pulses in his cranium returned—that appeal wasn’t satisfactory. Maddox bit the inside of his lip to prevent the woods from hearing his pained cry. Truthfully, he was uncertain whether or not he could get out of an encounter with a hunter, and even his companion knew that. He couldn’t lie to himself ever again. It always hurt when the hound did, but he’d do anything to quell the paranoia.

“Youcantkeepdoingthis,” he grumbled, bottling anger in his throat. “I’m saving both our asses as the one with legs so now don’t make me regret this.”

The hound couldn’t keep fooling himself as he had for years, but the pain let up—good enough, he imagined, just know what you’re doing. He retched some belief even though the silence allowed his base fears to make their presence known.

Maddox looked over his shoulder. The pack remained on his back, of course, but oftentimes he looked at the forbidden goods like an answer would miraculously appear there.

“For now on, if I get into a fight with someone, I’ll win,” he reassured himself. "Even if I don't get the things you do.

In the quiet, laying on the ground and contemplating the silence freed by his inner sound, Maddox could hear himself question the world again. The hound, the escape, the leeches—all of them put under a microscope once again, but only for him to stare at them. All contemplation, no analysis. All he knew was that he bought himself this moment of rest.

Maddox couldn’t lie down forever, though: he slowly recovered on shaky ground, straightened his shoulders, and dusted brush off his coat. The hound exchanged glances with a long road intersecting his path to the motel. He paused like a deer in headlights but primed to run at the sight of high beams on the horizon. Wary eyes trained on the darkness as he began walking, racing, jogging ever so quickly. His pace matched his chest, a panicked heart slamming as hard as he bashed into the motel’s door.

A creaky ceiling fan whipped a musty wind into his face—that cold and clinical touch of the world he came crawling back to. He panted, coughing at the mustiness irritating his throat. His beating anxiety played out but calmed once he finally scrounged for air. The suffocating atmosphere proved to be a breath of fresh air, though. Once more, the pain he preferred.

“I’ll be with you in a second,” a voice croaked from afar, which Maddox tracked to an ajar door behind the lobby desk.

An old, grizzled voice sang over the receptionist’s words. They were joined by banjo and the crackle of a radio. Some song, Maddox thought, but he couldn’t let it blend into the background as he approached the desk. The hound was too alert to dismiss cursory details: he kept looking around and noted where the chairs were placed, where paint chipped from the walls, or how dirt piled up near places deprived of a thorough sweep.

Maddox couldn’t dismiss that the clock struck 3:37—the witching hour. In his desolation, he took a minute to inspect his pack’s material. Fortunately, no shards or sinews poking out of it. All that running distracted him from thinking about his little friend’s wellbeing, and surely the otherworldly knew to be safe than sorry.

Next to the occult time, there was a vending machine as empty as Maddox’s stomach. The hound approached like there was food but there was nothing but dust for him. He could barely make out his sunken eyes and skeletal features reflected in the display.

Suddenly, a crimson ribbon wormed through the hound’s sight.

Maddox’s world shrunk to the machine and his eyes shut out anything beyond that. He refused to blink, so captivated by the intrusion he couldn't give a damn about civilization. He craned until his nose pecked the glass. The hound witnessed flashes of red, sigils of sanguine matching the ones drawn on his canister. Pain emerged, but dull and passive, unlike the knives his mind dealt earlier. Message or memory, he had to know why this flash came unprompted.

Maddox returned to his youthful self dropping scooped leeches in a bucket. His eyes filled the vending machine’s missing space with parasites wriggling around the negative space like a wall of tissue. His old self spent quite some time watching the leeches stir until a motherly voice prompted him to pick some from the bucket.

“Need me to make your choice?” the receptionist’s voice snapped Maddox out of his vision.

The hound jolted, instinctively grabbing the strap of his bag. Wide eyes zipped to a wrinkled feline standing where a receptionist would. His startled motions earned an inquiring brow.

“Well then,” she mused. “Room?”

Maddox nodded reluctantly. “…one…one night.”

“Right, right,” the woman scribbled into a ledger. “Won’t cost you much - just a few dollars.”

The hound’s heart skipped a beat. All this planning and Maddox didn’t think to pack some cash. He internally joked this was what the inner voice meant, his hands were already fumbling coat pockets in search of the non-existent bills, simultaneously retreating to the entrance.

“…t-tell you what, I might’ve left it in my ca-”

The woman raised a hand. “No, I don’t think you did.” She shook her head at the backtracking hound.

“P-pardon?” Maddox gasped, stopping in his tracks.

Maddox froze with the door partway open. The feline’s mesmerizing gaze wiped any motivation to run for the woods—and for the first time in three days, he was unsure of his escape.

“Are you running away from home?” she asked, her stony features demanding an honest answer.

He couldn’t stop thinking about running, but the feline's attitude attached a ball and chain to his ankles. “I’m…27.” He capitulated.

“Either way, I have to ask for ID.” She snapped back like Maddox’s honesty meant nothing. “Young guy comes in the early hours, looks like he hasn’t eaten in a while and might as well be on drugs, which I assume you aren’t, but you’re dressed like the punks who shoot up their arms.”

His breath skipped, and his hands were rocked by panic. Small aches in his brain began to pulsate, beckoning him towards the woods. He was stuck between worlds, both of them more compelling than his voice of reason could ever be—silenced even more by the presence that spoke through pain. The hound shut down and simply kept quiet, unable to speak for himself. The least he did for the cat was return eye contact through a distant gaze.

Eventually, the woman was fed up and grimaced into her palm. “Fine, whatever, I can’t ignore those puppy eyes. My conscience can’t take banishing some runaway to the woods.” She pouted, “I’ll let you stay this one night only pro bono, but if anyone comes knocking I’m pointing at your door.”

The cat ducked under the desk and reemerged with a key in hand. She jingled it in the dog’s sight, beckoning him.

Maddox softened his vice-like grip, but he wasn’t sold enough to let go of the door. The staredown resumed for a few seconds, and during that, he rushed to the desk, swiped the key, and turned his back to the feline in a rebound to the exit. The cranial pangs returned, slowing him enough to witness his reflection in the dust-caked glass. Maddox was paralyzed by his gaze, and inevitably, his eyes were drawn to the feline’s reflected stare as well. His pain intensified into a wince, still reminding him of mixed feelings towards trusting civilization, made worse by the woman’s vow. All the toxic promises in the world could not eclipse how easily he was allured, though.

The hunters aren’t the dangerous ones, but rather those who can allure him with creature comforts and dreams. His inner voice had every right to believe this woman was setting him up. Yet, he couldn’t escape. He was only a person and a person had needs no matter who fulfilled them.

“Thank you…” he gritted.

“Take it from someone who knows a little about this: you’re on your own in the road ahead.”

Maddox nodded. A sigil flashed in the feline’s concerned look, prompting him to walk out.

The leeches move onto their next meal in CHAPTER III...

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #laid to waste #tales gone stale #writing community #furry writing #writing

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sylviazem · 5 days

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captivate - for the single-word fic prompt!

Captivate

There was quite a bit of commotion at the Drowning Wench. A crowd was gathered around a tall, dark woman, who was regaling the people around her with impressive, and perhaps slightly exaggerated tales of adventure.

"So can ye actually take on any weapon", a Maelstrom officer asked, tapping his axe. "How would ye deal wif this then, eh?"

"Pfft", the stranger waved her hand at him. "I bet your wild swings would leave you wide open. Even if for a moment, that's all I need. I'm awful fast, you see. Lithe, too."

"Tch", the remark elicited a mocking laugh from his fellows, and he begrudgingly smiled. "...Aye, yer probably right."

"Every weapon has a weakness, and it's my specialty to be that weakness", she explained, rather smugly. "Swords, shields, axes...Knives, polearms, yada yada yada. I've studied and fought against them all, and I always find a way to break my prey."

"Um", from among the impressed murmurs of the crowd, a woman shyly raised her voice. "What if, um...What if yer losin' a fight?"

"Losing? Aha, hardly, my dear. But...Well", she laughed, and ran her hands down the sides of her own body. "I can always rely on this."

Oh, wow..! Aye, that'd work on me, all right. That ebon fur is awfully captivating... Once again, she impressed her audience, though not in the way she intended.

"Ah-", for a split second, she was flustered. "Though I meant my dark coat allows me to slip away into the shadows, o-of course I have also mastered the art of seduction! After all, who could resist this much pure, unadulterated sex appeal?"

Aye, I'll drink to that! Teehee! She is quite...attractive... C'mere wif us, kitty! We'll show ye a good time!

"Sorry to disappoint, boys", she turned her back towards the men, and flicked her tail dismissively. "This kitty is reserved for fellow pussycats."

"Ach, bollocks", the officer downed the rest of his drink. "Tongue as sharp as Llymlaen's dagger, too. I do like that in a gal."

"Oh, you don't know the half of it", she put her arm around the waist of the shy lady from the crowd, and smooched her hand. "Would you like to find out more, you cute little thing? Maybe someone else, too? No need to be shy, now; there's plenty of me to go around."

"Ye lucky ladies be'er not let this one slip away", the officer hollered as he left the tavern. "She's a real...cat-ch! Haha..!"

"Sheesh. Now then, my lovely ladies", she approached the Mizzenmast innkeeper with the two women giggling and clinging to her arms. "Room for one, please. No need to worry; we'll be sharing the bed."

Perhaps later, you could help me with some information gathering. I'm looking for a certain someone.

A hero, you could say.

#ffxiv #oc: ???#was mulling this over for a few days and then suddenly I was like 'oh shit make some groundwork for the new hrothgal OC'#she doesn't have a name yet but she's Very Gay and Trying To Kill my WoL #and she's gonna fail miserably.#also. in case you can't tell. she's uhh. kinda over the top.#and it's Totally Intentional. Duh. To better hide that she's an assassin. I mean...duh.#*subtle headshake to signify: no*

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theladycarpathia · 1 year

Text

Empty Places Chapter 7: Doppelganger

Back to Chapter 6

The wall resists, at first.

But then Billy swings back like he’s got the mallet at the county fair whack-a-mole and swings it down until the wood splinters.

“They’re not gonna be happy with us!” Robin says, gripping the bat with a death grip, her face white and tense. Billy grins. Good. He’s got a few things to say to those fuckers.

He brings the ax down again and again, occasionally reaching out to help Robin pull down panels and shards of wood. Alice watches, quietly, patiently, and he wonders what will happen to her when they burn the house down. Maybe she knows. Maybe this is what she’s been waiting for. Her pale eyes don’t move as slowly, bit by bit, Robin and Billy break into the very heart of Creel House.

Let him be alive, Billy thinks as he hacks away with a frenzied kind of anger he hadn’t thought that he was capable of. He’s always had a temper, something that flares up like a flash in the pan. This is different though, something that burns slow and steady, a constant intense flame. And he can’t look at it too closely right now, not as the wall slowly crumbles down around their ears, because they have to get to Steve in time.

After. He’ll tell him after.

The air that wafts through the opening makes Robin gag, tendrils of cold, dank air finally opened up after decades. Billy breathes through it and tries to not think about what might have caused that smell. He hooks his ax over the wood and tugs, bringing the last few pieces down enough for him to climb through.

“You know what to do,” he calls back to Robin and she nods, her eyes a bright gleam in her pale face. He watches just long enough to see her vanish away into the darkness before he fully steps through.

The room is a nightmare. An actual living nightmare.

Billy’s stomach twists unpleasantly as he takes in the shifting, beating walls of the room, the red of it all pulsing like blood. He turns his head away from looking at it too closely, because if he stops to think about the shapes moving in the mass beneath his feet, he’ll never be able to eat again.

That’s a crumpled figure across the room and Billy’s heart plummets at the stillness of Steve’s body. He dashes across and skids down beside him, automatically smoothing Steve’s gorgeous hair out of his face.

“Steve?” Billy whispers and presses a finger to Steve’s throat. He’s cold and for a terrible moment, Billy thinks that maybe they’re too late. But then there’s a flicker under Billy’s numb fingers, the faintest beat of a pulse. Billy breathes again.

“You weren’t invited,” a voice says furiously and Billy starts, curling his fingers around the ax once more. He’d thought that the room was empty.

“What the actual fuck?” Billy says in disbelief, because there’s himself stalking furiously across the floor. It’s the weirdest fucking thing, the way that curl sits across his forehead, the set of his jaw, how he places his feet…it’s an exact duplicate and Billy suddenly understands how Steve had mistaken this copy for Billy earlier.

“Get out,” Fake Billy hisses furiously and Billy stares, because even that little lip curl is his.

He wonders if he needs therapy because the idea of driving an ax into that thing’s head while it looks like him is very satisfying.

“You definitely need therapy,” someone comments and Billy jerks his head up to stare at the sharp-cheeked handsome young man now standing behind him and Steve. It takes him a second because this face isn’t the one he expected. But then it clicks.

“Henry,” Billy breathes and the man smiles.

“Indeed. Now how did you get in?” Henry muses, as though he’s merely wondering about a tricky puzzle in the Sunday crossword.

“Made a door,” Billy says brazenly, gripping tightly onto Steve’s shirt. He still hasn’t woken up, which is worrying Billy slightly. He needs Steve to wake up. This only works if Steve gets up. “Forgot to knock, sorry.”

“Impudence,” Fake Billy hisses. Billy steels himself and meets its - his - eyes.

“You looked in my head earlier,” he says, because he’s pretty certain that this is the thing that he encountered in the basement earlier. He doesn’t have to even think about it, he just knows from that cold trickle down his spine that this is the thing that wore Neil’s face and hissed obscenities into Billy’s ear. “You should know that’s basically my middle name.”

“Very droll,” Henry interrupts, sounding bored. “But you really should have stayed away. It’s too late for your friend here.” Billy tries to keep his face blank as he turns back to Henry.

“He’s alive,” Billy insists. Because Steve is still alive, still breathing, and that’s all Billy needs. But Henry gives him a terrible, pleased smile and Billy’s heart sinks. He scrabbles on the floor and pulls Steve over onto his back and the sight that greets him is worse than every single horror-filled nightmare combined.

Steve’s face is deathly pale, streaked with trails of dried black tears. It reminds Billy of when Heather cried on a night out and her mascara streaked down her face, leaving marks just like these. But the worst part of it is Steve’s eyes. The huge Bambi-like brown eyes are just gone, leaving jet-black holes, like Steve’s pupils have expanded until everything else has been swallowed.

“Steve?” Billy says in a panic. He presses his palm against Steve’s cheek and it just feels like marble. “Steve!”

Henry tuts at Steve’s blank face, feigning pity. “Bit late for that. Sorry, pet.”

“Get fucked,” Billy hisses, because he’s pretty certain that the strange slimy feeling in his mind is this fucking asshole poking around in there. But Henry just smiles and drops down to his knees. Billy curls his arm protectively around Steve, not wanting this dickhead’s hands all over him.

“Look,” Henry says and his tone sharpens to something akin to knives. “There hasn’t been anyone to feed from in nearly a decade. If need be, I have no problem slaughtering the three of you like pigs, if you’re that desperate to be together. We can spill your entrails across this floor and feed from your stupid little minds until the next lot of ignorant, incompetent amateur ghost hunters stumble in through those doors. But I’m offering you an out. You can take that little tart with you and just go.”

Billy turns his head to look at his doppelganger and there’s something horrific about his face. The eyes keep darkening, there’s the flickering of graying dark hair at his temple, the skin at the jawline and the nose keep rippling and Billy realizes that the demon is flashing between his face and Neil’s, struggling to choose which might cause more distress.

There’s a bell ringing in the back of Billy’s head and he very carefully doesn’t look at it. He can’t, not if Henry keeps looking into his mind. So instead he looks at Steve, the hair brushing his forehead, the small scar on his chin from when they were eleven, the soft curve of his bottom lip. It’s not exactly a hard choice.

“Not a chance in hell,” Billy says firmly, fingers brushing against Steve’s pale cheeks. “Not without Steve.”

Henry’s eyes turn to cold flints. “Then you’ll die down here together,” he promises. “What exactly were you planning on doing?”

Billy carefully pulls Steve onto his lap, cradling Steve’s head in the crook of his arms. His friend hasn’t made so much as a sound in all this time and Billy wonders how deep he’s under. Whether it’s possession or hypnosis…even some sort of curse, Billy doesn’t know. There’s no instruction manual for waking him up so they’ve had to go on gut instinct and a little bit of luck.

They could still be wrong. They might all die down here.

But Billy doesn’t think so. He might not believe in a lot but he does believe in a few things. He believes in his mom. He believes in Robin. Believes in Steve. He has to believe that it’s enough. It got Billy in here and it’s going to get them out.

“This,” Billy says, and leans down to press his mouth to Steve’s.

Onto Chapter 8

#harringrove #empty places #fic: empty places #ghosthunters au #creel house au #steve harrington #Billy Hargrove #robin buckley #this is probably the shortest chapter?#two more to go #I'm not ready

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beauthief · 1 year

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((Wanted to write a little drabble about Haru's first awakening. When she unlocked her costume & axe but not her actual Persona. This takes place when Haru finds Morgana in the Okumura Foods Corporate Building and is written to be a monologue in her head spoken to her by Milady, not yet fully awaken.))

There is a cat, he's hurt and surrounded by what looks like robots. Everything has changed. You don't recognize anything around you, everything you once knew by heart now resembles that of the science fiction films your father so loves. The world around you is cold, metallic and sterile. It feels devote of life threatening to eat you up to take your life too. Except for the cat. The cat who at any moment could have his life snuffed out before you. Threatening t leave you alone amongst this hellish void. Will you allow this? Will you allow yourself to be abandoned? 'Someone has to do something.' YOU are someone, YOU can do something. Despite what they tell you, how your father treats you, how your fiance dictates your lack of worth, you are not worthless. You are worth more then they ever imagined. Now prove it.

Do you even notice when the axe has formed in your hands? When something in you changes and you embrace that rage which has laid dormant in your heart for so many years. Do you feel the mask loosening, threatening to tear off at any moment? Or are you too blinded by the fury that comes when you swing your axe? When you hear the strain of metal against metal and feel the tremble that climbs up your arm when you make contact. The noise echos in this lifeless place a clang that deafens you to the world. Black ooze that you assume is oil leaks from the wound in the robot's head and it spills across the floor when you remove your axe from it's head. The machine clatters to the ground before evaporating into black smoke. You swing again hitting the second robot, sparks fly from its face and you wonder if the scream you just heard was your own or it's. Again you tear the axe from metal and again it evaporates into thin air. Without anything to unleash your fury upon you turn your attention to the third robot. It is backing away, it is begging to be let go and to be forgiven.

Is this what it feels like? When he grabs you and you beg for your freedom. When you beg for him to listen, to forgive you of his perceived slights. Is this how it feels to deny others mercy? Does it feel like raising an axe above your head and silencing pleas for pity. Does a thrill run up his spine when he exacts his control over you? Is it the same for him as you feel now. Does he feel like he is slamming an axe repeatedly against his offender. Silencing their fearful cries while a tingle of joy scampers around your mind. Do you finally understand how powerful he must feel? Can you accept that? Will you accept the power he has over you? Or will you take your power back?

The robotic mechanism has stopped begging now, stopped moving, it has stopped breathing, if it ever could. But you do not stop. This exhilaration that has overtaken you spurs you forward. Ripping your axe from the machine only to bury it in again. Your movements repeat like a robot at a conveyor belt. Black splashes onto your face, covers your hands, your arms all the way to your elbows and pools at your feet. Even as the mechanism fades from existence you continue your onslaught digging your axe into the ground over and over again. The machine is dead, you can stop at any point, you've done your job and helped the cat... But ask yourself. Did you really do this for him?

#❦ ℋ𝒾𝓂𝒶𝓁𝒶𝓎𝒶𝓃 ℬ𝓁𝓊𝑒 𝒫𝑜𝓅𝓅𝓎 ❦ Drabbles #spousal abuse tw #animal injury tw #emotional abuse tw #violence tw #((I HC that Haru had 2 awakenings a partial one done to help Morgana/others #Then her full awakening done to help herself but she could not have had her full awakening had she been acting for others #Her full awakening could only come from helping/choosing herself))

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sunmoonjune · 1 year

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Ahhhh! Moonie! I finally caught up with Chapter 15! How do you write so beautifully! No detail is ever spared and once again, you made me cry en route to work!(I posted on A03 last time).

The way you have brought the characters to life in your own way yet keeping them somewhat true is incredible and Bug! Don’t get me started on Bug! Watching Bug grow with each chapter is so breathtaking.

I know you’ll be talking more about Hwa’s bow but I’m curious about how you paired each member with their respective weapons because they fit so well!

If it isn’t already taken could I be ⚔️- anon?

hello my dear <33 thank you so much hehe <3

I'm glad you enjoyed the update! and I'm also happy you like bug <3 I think she's slowly becoming an oc rather than just the reader but I love her so much :"))

and yes I do have all of ateez's weapons chosen! I'm honestly not super sure on how I decided but I can try to explain some of them? there's probably little crumbs of atz backstory here! not a lot but just a lil insight that you'll get more of in LTM (also this is way long than I meant it to be omfg sorry xD but I hope you enjoy all my references for weapons haha I'm kind of a nerd)

[also yes! you can absolutely be my ⚔️ anon!]

For seonghwa, I'm honestly not 100% what led to me making him an archer,, but I think the longbow just fits him somehow? when I was imagining him with other weapons, they didn't seem to always feel right -- tho he was almost a pole arm user like san! I sort of imagined him a little bit like legolas when writing hehe xD

Hongjoong's weapon is a double-edged long sword! (think Link's sword from legend of Zelda almost haha xD ) it's very regal in appearance and has an ornate cross-guard with a crimson colored ruby in the center (this sword will make an appearance in his backstory at some point!) I can't say how the sword relates to his backstory but I can say that I sometimes kind of imagine hongjoong as a king in some ways,, he's the captain and leaders sometimes have very regal sort of weapons, so I chose the longsword for him! (if you're a LOTR nerd like me, I sort of imagined Aragorn's sword anduril as inspo for the blade - besides the crossguard of course xD)

Yunho's weapon is a double-headed axe,, this was something a little different for me when I was picking weapons for each of them, but I think because Yunho is tall and fairly strong, the axe fit kind of well? With his height he gets a decent leverage for swinging and he definitely has enough upper body strength to wield it well -- after I picked it for him I honestly couldn't imagine him with anything else xD

I don't think I've actually talked much about Yeosang's weapon choice in LTM yet,, I mentioned him preferring a single sword as opposed to two in chapter nine I think (when Seonghwa offers to let Bug train with someone else) but Yeosang is one of the more versatile members that can handle any weapon well! He most often takes up the bow with seonghwa in distance combat (as the main healer he's most often kept away from direct combat) -- his signature weapons are actually daggers, and he always has a small collection on his person at all times -- I chose this for him because of his occupation as a healer! It makes the most sense that he wouldn't have a ton of training in his previous village with weapons since he was trained to be a healer - however, all the specialization there gave him dexterous hands and the ability to skillfully use knives. after he left his clan, he trained in combat with jongho much more and now he can wield daggers very well!

San is a polearm user! His weapon is a spear (I've always kind of imagined it to look a lil like Xiao's from genshin impact!) To me, San has always been a little more lithe and I kind of imagined him to be quick and graceful in combat (maybe it's cause he's a skilled dancer irl? xD ) so I wanted to pick a weapon that allowed him that kind of movement and then from watching gameplay in genshin and other games, I think san sort of fit being a polearm user - idk I could just see him pulling moves like zhongli or Xiao or something xD

Mingi was one of the first members I easily chose for when picking weapons! He's muscular and has a really good build so I immediately chose a claymore! Mingi is very strong and tall so he can easily swing a heavy sword during combat,, and I think the image fits him well too :D If you play genshin (or have just seen videos haha) I kind of imagine him a little like diluc? tho his build might be closer to itto xD

Wooyoung was honestly a little bit harder to pick for me,, but he's kind of like san in that I see him being a little more lithe in combat than aggressive like yunho or mingi so I wanted to pick something that would give him that kind of skill! I think I ended up picking two swords (a duel-wielder) for him mostly because it fit the plot xD he and bug being able to progress with each other via combat training (and him teaching her all the things she wasn't able to learn before ie offensive combat) was important to me! It's a big step in their relationship because woo wants to help her gain the freedom she wasn't able to have before :") ) I see his swords like Inosuke's from demon slayer -- the chips in the blade give him a little more gorey/aggressive approach to fighting since they allow him to tear into flesh rather than merely slicing through it

and last but not least our jongho! Jongho was just like Mingi for me in that I saw him as a claymore/broadsword user from the beginning! he's definitely very strong and has the raw power to swing around a heavy weapon so the claymore came to mind almost immediately!

also of course our bug is a duel-wielder like wooyoung, so her swords are katanas,, if you're curious about my inspo for her weapons, I used the weapons from demon slayer to imagine her swords - probably sanemi's fits the closest! (I originally imagined her to fight like inosuke, but she doesn't quite yet have that kind of offensive ability (except for her introduction in chapter one when she uhhh went a lil ... ) -- but perhaps one day in the future she'll get there xD )

#moonie speaks #like the moon lore #like the moon #like the moon spoilers #moonie's anons #moonie's ⚔️ anon

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ycurkxng-a · 2 years

Text

Self Inflicted Wounds

Characters: (Default) Dean King, (Coasty SMP) Dean King

No cw/tws

•

If Dean had to be completely honest, he was pretty fucking bored. He couldn't find a contract that interested him enough to risk his life, and he'd been sitting around the kingdom fiddling with his knife.

He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there before a bright flash caught his attention, he turned his head away from it instinctively and looked back at the source when he believed that it wouldn't blind him in the process. Upon turning to see just what had happened, he got a good sight on someone.

The male who stood there had torn up and bloodied clothes with a scarred face to boot, a belt was wrapped tightly around his torso and what appeared to be some kind of bladed weapon was stuffed into it... The guy looked like him, probably just another version of himself.

He looked confused, which was a fair reaction to being suddenly taken to a place made out of cardboard. Dean stood up and moved towards the alternate version of himself, who glared at him as soon as he was in his sights. "Who the fuck are you?" The male snarled, stepping forward.

Dean stared back at him and stopped in his tracks a few feet away from the other, "You're a friendly bastard ain't you?" He scoffed, the aura of the other was nothing but hostility, so he kept his guard up. "Where's Adam?" The other version continued to question, he moved closer to Dean.

Who the hell was Adam?

"Not sure who you're talking about, but if you just let me explain some thin- OOMPH!" Dean was cut off with a shout and a boot being kicked into his gut, promptly knocking him onto his back, the gun that had been stashed in the waistband of his jeans slid out a little behind him. This could only go well. He opened his eyes to stare at the other who now took the weapon out from behind him, an axe. Dried blood painted the otherwise silver head of it, the guy clearly had a history with it.

"What'd you do, you son of a bitch?!" Dean alternate shouted before stepping forward and swinging the axe down, he turned himself to the side and grabbed onto the handle once the head was buried into the ground next to him. With a grip on his opponents weapon, Dean lifted his leg and kicked into the others knee, causing it to buckle and making him fall to his other knee.

Both scrambled back up to their feet, but Dean was faster. He grabbed onto the axe with both hands and pulled it back up before throwing it to the side, he'd never really used an axe as a weapon, as long as it stayed out of the hands of the other he'd feel a lot more confident.

Dean swung first, simply refusing to wait for the other to attack when he didn't know just what he could do. His first hook missed but the followup with his left caught the alternate off guard and it hit him straight in the jaw, however much to his dismay, it had barely phased him.

Of course Dean kept swinging though, but his attacks were swiftly blocked and ducked under, right up until he attempted to break through his arms guarding him with a surprise jab. His wrist was grabbed onto, the other stepped in while he had his arm in his grip and clashed his forehead against Dean's, making him stagger backwards with an aching skull.

"WHERES MY FRIEND?!" He shouted again, which only confused Dean even more. The only Adam he knew of was a guy he beat the shit out of in the 8th grade, and there was no way in hell any version of him would be friends with that asshat. "I don't fucking kno- AUGH!"

Dean let out a yelp as he was tackled back onto the ground, knees dug into his sides as he felt hands grip his face tight. "GET OFFA ME!" He barked, nails began to claw at his face as Dean wildly thrashed against the weight of the other straddling him.

He was trying to tear his face off, a terrifying and painful way to go, hed know from experience. Granted, before it had been a wild animal and not an actual human, but nonetheless, he didn't want to experience that kind of pain again.

Dean grabbed onto one of the hands that gripped his face and brought it just a little closer to his mouth, allowing him to open his mouth and clamp down onto it. The other screamed out as Dean's teeth sunk into his flesh, beginning to draw blood from the points of contact.

Suddenly, he was trying to wrench his hand away from Dean. His other fist cocked back and he hit Dean in the side of the head, but when one punch didn't make him let go, he continued to strike him. Funnily enough, it wasn't the punches that made Dean let go of his alternates hand, it was his blood seeping into his mouth, the mix of blood and the taste of pennies in his mouth was revolting enough to make him pull off of the others hand.

He raised both of his hands and shoved his attacker off of him while he was distracted with his excessively bleeding hand, Dean took the few moments where the other was on the ground with him to gain distance from him and crawl backwards before getting back up. It was life or death at this point, the other had already shown that he wanted Dean six feet under, so he just had to return that energy.

The alternate stood up and the two only stared at each other for a moment, they were literally fighting themselves. It was something they would question under different circumstances, but both of their minds were focused simply on surviving... Well, not so much with the Coasty alternate, he just wanted to kill the other.

He didn't know where the hell he was, he didn't know where his friend was, and his confusion had immediately turned into a mind numbing rage upon seeing the other. He believed he'd had something to do with taking him away and putting him here, but based on his confusion- he was beginning to think that wasn't true.

Dean once again started the fight back up, he closed the distance between him and his Coasty self with a mean right hook. The alternate barely ducked under the hit before attempting to retaliate with an uppercut, that of which was just dodged with a quick step back.

The Coasty alternate thrusted his knee upwards, hoping to catch the other off guard and hit him in the gut to follow it up with further attacks. But his knee was grabbed onto by Dean, who then pulled his other fist back and tried to hit him square in the chest. That only led to his arm being grabbed, which left them at a standstill.

Well, for only a second or two, right up until Dean lifted up the others knee and used his right leg to kick out the others last. It knocked him to the ground and forced him to let go of Dean's arm, he hit the ground with an "umph" and pulled his leg out of Kings grip. He lifted up his other leg and kicked it forward, barely hitting the side of Dean's abdomen. It still hurt enough to make him back off and give the Coasty version of himself a bit of breathing room, in the short time he laid there he had spotted his axe close by.

He immediately went for it, his left hand grabbed onto the lower bit of the handle which was just enough to let him swing it in the direction of Dean, who unfortunately had been standing too close which made him get a cut across his gut for his troubles.

Dean stepped back a little and pressed a hand against his wound, blood quickly spread across his palm and the tips of his fingers. Before the other version of himself got up, Dean stepped forward and reared his right leg up before kicking it forward. The front of his boot smashed against the others jaw and made his teeth clatter together, knocking him back down flat on the ground.

With the alternate stunned for a few moments, Dean turned back and went to grab his gun that had fallen out of his jeans before. As he scrambled to get it, the other was quickly getting back up with his axe. Dean could hear him groaning and beginning to move, and he dove forward towards the gun as a result.

He slid against the ground but managed to grab onto the glock, Dean turned himself onto his side and immediately pulled the trigger as his enemy got into his sights. One round shot clean through a knee and two others went into his hip, causing him to lose his balance and shout out as he fell to the floor.

The axe was let go as he hit the floor, it landed a few feet away from the other, not like he could do much with it anyways. Dean slowly got back up to his feet while keeping a firm grip on his pistol, his breathing was heavy as he stared down at the other. "Fuckin' bastard.." He panted out.

With the other finally down for a considerable amount of time, Dean turned around and walked away, he needed some kind of medical attention for that cut of his. There were a lot of things he would've been questioning if he weren't so focused on that pulsating wound of his, like, where did that guy come from? Why did he immediately attack him? Whose blood was on his axe? Who the fuck was Adam?

He could learn all of that later, when he wasn't bleeding all over himself.

#something productive. thats rare for you ;art + drabbles;#please please PLEASE reblog #im begging you here/nf

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witchofthescions · 2 years

Text

It was a trap.

Thancred was the first to notice something seemed strange. "The Amalj'aa would never leave this place so poorly guarded."

The Warriors of Darkness had lured them into a trap, having apparently decided it would be faster to just kill Erna herself instead of wasting time with primals.

“One life for one world. A fair exchange, wouldn't you agree?”

Is that really what it’s come to? Would any of this really save what’s left of the Warriors’ home…?

Erna didn’t have much time to think about that particular question as the fight began in earnest. She was still kicking herself for failing to recognize Urianger despite him walking around without a hood. She was just thankful that he wasn’t actually a traitor at least, though a part of her still questioned what his end goal really was. Why did he team up with the Warriors of Darkness, only to stab them in the back at such a critical moment? Yet another question that the current circumstances left her little time to ponder.

It became very apparent very quickly that there was something of a bias to both sides’ combat leanings, and the Warriors of Darkness arguably had the advantage. Of the seven on Erna’s side, only two did not rely on magic to fight. Of the six on the Warriors’ side, there were only two who did. And as it turns out, those who can swing a weapon have something of an advantage over those who need time to cast spells.

Especially when one such weapon swinger has decided to make it his mission to harry the summoner so she can’t add her power to her friend’s spell. It’s really hard to concentrate when you have a warrior trying to cleave you in half with his axe, after all.

“Can someone get this man off my ass?!” Erna yelled as she leaned out of the way of his swing.

“I’d love to,” Thancred called back, ducking under the knight’s swing, “but I fear I’m a little preoccupied myself.”

Cress trained his gun on the miqo’te with the greatsword, firing a shot as he wound up for a big swing. The bullet hit the blade and knocked the swordsman off balance just enough for his swing to miss Thancred. Without missing a beat, Thancred took advantage of the swordsman’s disorientation and swept his legs out from under him, using his momentum to send him crashing face first into the ground. Before he had a chance to finish him off, however, the knight stepped in and shielded the fallen miqo’te.

“Oh no you don't!”

He forced Thancred to back away as the Miqo’te got to his feet and collected his blade. The miqo'te rushed the viera, clearly intent on finishing him before he could line up another shot. Of course, considering he had the advantage of range, this would be easier said than done.

“Hurry! We must finish them before their mage completes that spell!” Alphinaud shouted.

“I’d love to, if the damn warrior would let me get close to Alisaie!”

Lenar’s sapphire carbuncle scanned the field, letting him take stock of the chaos. With a sigh he called out, “Alphinaud, take over the healing for a moment.”

Alphinaud shot the scholar a bewildered look. “Wh-What?”

Lenar shut his codex, lined up a shot… and tossed the book right at the enemy warrior’s head. It smacked right into him, knocking him off balance. He turned just in time to see Lenar draw his sword and charge. He barely had time to raise his axe to block before the elezen was upon him. But once he engaged, the warrior quickly realized he was stuck on the defensive. The scholar's moves were quick and difficult to predict. He hadn't expected the book-wielding mage to be so capable in close combat.

Erna stared at the spectacle of Lenar the healer going for the throat both literally and metaphorically, momentarily thrown for a loop. She had only ever seen Lenar fight so viciously against dragons. And never with a sword. To see him fight so skillfully, and even gain the upper hand against someone clearly more experienced in close combat was a sight she never expected to see.

But her distraction was only temporary. She ran over to Alisaie and offered up what aether she could spare.

#The Unending Journey (Drabbles)#The Far Edge of Fate (Patch 3.4-3.5)

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miracleweaponhunt · 5 months

Text

Miracle Weapon Hunt Chapter 22: Princesses With Spears

Cassandra saw the panic take over the Legionites. Even Serafina and Chizoba.

“I said full power!” The scrawny man screeched at the people working the ship.

“We’re trying!” One of them yelled back.

Cassandra looked around at the panic. She immediately grabbed the robes of the person standing next to her, flinging them against the wall. Someone locked eyes on her behind their hood, and she punched them in the face before they could do anything. While everyone was confused, she grabbed the axe, destroying the locked doors of the airship with one lumbered motion. She jumped out, surrounded by ice. Julian’s bear let go of the airship in order to catch her, and then let her down gently.

“What is this?” Cassandra yelled, looking enamoured at the bear.

“My experiments paying off!” Julian yelled back, watching the bear grab the airship once again, only for it’s grip to loosen a second later.

“Oh crap, I’m out of bugs.”

“Hey, you there?” Cassandra asked. “Make an ice spear to the airship. Right in the middle!”

The girl nodded, spinning her spear before slamming the tip into the metal, creating a trail of ice that quickly exploded into an iceberg once it was underneath the trapped airship. Cassandra ran up the iceberg, axe in hand, making one mighty swing to the centre of the airship, causing an explosion underneath it. the explosion undid all the previous icicles as the Legion airship crashed to the ground, and the flock of Legionites quickly rushed out just before it exploded. The scrawny man looked towards the ship with genuine anguish, muttering something to the wreckage before Chizoba grabbed him and ran to the next airship with several others in tow.

Cassandra looked at the wreckage and the man’s anguish. She knew what just happened. She misaimed.

All the other legionites ran to the next airship, and the spear girl launched into a sprint as they started it up. She thrust the spear downward, and the icicle barely scraped the surface of the now escaping airship.

“Wait, no.” The girl whispered. “Oh shit, mom’s gonna kill me!”

“Excuse me.” Cassandra asked, tapping her shoulder. “Just who are you?”

The girl in the jeans and grey hoodie stood still for a second, before removing her hood and turning to face Cassandra with a determined smile.

“Name’s Willow, from Vannana! Glad I could help!”

Just as she made her announcement, Ola stumbled out of her office.

“Willow, I thank you for the save.” She said, still disoriented. Possibly the same guy affecting Cassandra’s airship hit her. “Which is why it really pains me to do this.”

“To do what?” Willow asked, glancing around the dock.

“Cassandra, please stand back.”

Suddenly, several armed guards circled Willow, all aiming guns towards her head.

“Yes, Freyja. She’s here.”

Ola was forced to use the weapons testing facility as a makeshift jail cell, seeing as she’d never hear the end of it if Willow was put in an actual one. Willow looked out of the window with sad eyes, before banging on the wall.

“Lemme out, dammit! I’m the reason you’re still alive! Also, I’m your damn niece! Is this how you treat your niece?”

“That’s your niece?” Julian asked, tilting his head to the side, trying to make sense of it with two working eyes. Turns out having two working eyes is pretty cool.

“Yep. Just doing this because my sister-in-law will be vicious if I’m lucky.” Ola sighed, then went back to her phone.

“You’re landing now? Okay, I’ll bring her out.”

Ola unlocked the door and Willow sauntered out as if she wasn’t screaming a second ago. She was brought to the dock with Cassandra, Julian, a slightly limping Roxanne, and two guards surrounding her. Once they got to the dock, a new airship was landed with four people in front of it. The two at the back were your standard guards, but the woman in front looked over the horizon until she locked eyes with Willow.

Her mere gaze was the type to command attention. Even in her casual wear of a thin ice blue dress and a circular necklace with a white gem embedded in it, all topped off with a blonde ponytail. Behind her was a black guy with a buzz cut and a white polo shirt.

“Hey, mom.” Willow said casually, trying to break her gaze by focusing on the spear.

“What were you doing?” Freyja asked sternly, a few obvious cracks forming in her composure as the words left her mouth. Julian felt the need to stand to attention and fix his posture just by being within a few meters of her.

“Well, I heard the distress call as I woke up and…y’know, felt the need to step in.”

“By stealing the Vannana spear and stealing an airship without any prior notice?”

“I left a note in my room. Besides, if they got the Inariu greave, the only real counter would be another relic weapon, which I know for a fact I wouldn’t be allowed to bring if I told anybody.”

“And what if the airship fell from backup Legionites?”

“I don’t know!”

“Look, let’s think of it this way.” Her husband interjected. “Did she help them win? Because the greave is safe, we know that.”

“Yeah, she was pretty important.” Cassandra added, pointing to the wreckage while not looking directly at it.

“See? I think we can just chalk this up to a victory and say good job all round.”

We went in to hug his daughter, and Freyja glared at him, causing him to back off.

“Fine. We can call this a victory against the legion. Quite good in fact, I’d hate for my sister-in-law to lose her place on the council.”

“Thanks.” Ola said flatly.

“Now then, Willow can take the airship she stole back to Vannana to prepare for the ball. Ola, I will be glad to see you there.”

“Yeah the airship…” Ola started. “You know what, Willow can explain it.”

“The ship…got stolen after we secured the greave. The Legion has it now.”

Freyja had a blank expression on her face once she heard that. Willow backed behind Roxanne as Freyja clasped her hands together.

“Let’s just get you home. The ball is tomorrow, after all.”

“Okay okay okay, wait.” Willow said. “Why not…bring my new friends over?”

“And why should I do that?” Freyja asked. She knew the plot here. Get a subdued berating thanks to others being there.

“I think it’s a good idea.” Freyja’s husband nodded. “These are the people protecting the Skyspace after all.”

“Sounds decent, come to think of it.” Julian nodded with a hand on his chin. “Besides, we should probably thank the leader of Sandala for not sending anyone to steal the axe from us.”

“Oh, did you guys not hear?” Willow replied. “You guys are official citizens of Sandala now.”

“Wait, what?” Roxanne asked.

“Yeah. Something to do with Sandala not technically losing their weapon and still being allowed in the Lux conferences or something.”

“Well, if you must meet Kazumi, you’d be better off looking like you don’t cage fight for scraps.” Freyja muttered. “Get on, we have a lot of work ahead of us.”

Everyone involved got onto the airship. Freyja and her husband led the way, with Julian and Cassandra entering afterward. Willow entered next, followed by Roxanne. Roxanne tripped as she went in, being picked up by Willow mid fall.

“You all good?” She asked.

Roxanne spent a split second looking into Willow’s eyes. Time temporarily seemed to stop around them as Roxanne tried to recollect herself.

“Uh…yes! Yes, I’m doing…pretty good!” She answered, quickly sitting next to Cassandra, who was just giving her a sly look.

“What?” Roxanne asked.

“Oh, nothing.” Cassandra replied, glancing at Freyja who was standing next to the airship’s pilot.

“Is everything okay back there?” Freyja asked. “Willow, check on the girl with the mechanical leg.”

“You okay?” Willow asked.

“Yeah, I just tripped.” Roxanne quickly replied with a dismissive hand wave. “My legs as fine as it can be right now.”

“And nothing needs to be done?”

“Nothing at all!”

“Understood.” Freyja gave a slight nod and once again fixated her eyes on the sky.

“So, Julian.” Cassandra asked. “You ever go to one of these balls?”

“Nothing on this scale.” Julian replied. “But I'll figure it out when I get there.”

“Don’t sweat it.” Willow interjected. “Once we get to Vannana you’ll be taken care of.”

“Oh thank god.” Julian mumbled. The idea of getting his own fancy threads made him nervous at best.

“So I’m guessing you two are going with each other?” Willow asked.

“Yeah.” Julian nodded.

“And what about you?” She asked, pointing to Roxanne.

Roxanne felt herself flare up inside. This girl who she just met was asking her to a dance. She could possibly call Dakarai, but the whole thing between the two was getting pretty awkward. And besides, it’d be a friend thing at best.

“Sounds pretty good, yeah.” Roxanne nodded in an attempt to look casual.

“Willow, I’ve already been in talks.” Freyja interrupted without shifting her gaze. “With miss Nuria if you remember her.”

“You cannot be serious right now.” Willow whispered to herself.

“Her son is about your age, and we think the two of you together would be a good show of our faith in the future generations.”

“Whyyyyyy?” She groaned. “Just say you don’t want me there with another woman.”

“Willow, we’ve discussed this.” Freyja said with a weary sigh. “I am more than willing to let you bend the rules and have women in your courts when you take the throne. But as a descendant of house Vannana, you will bear children.”

“Well, what about the princess of Sangaria? She can’t be that much older than me, right?”

“Luminita is actually going with a boy she found herself. His name is Mr. Bob Dobalina, if I recall correctly. They’re probably getting ready as we speak.”

#writeblr #my writing #writing #creative writing #fantasy #webnovel

0 notes

ohanahoku-ao3 · 7 months

Text

Whumptober Day 8

@whumptober Enjoy!

Teen & Up - Gen - Stranger Things

A Soldier's Function

Steve was tired. He was so tired that he was honestly surprised to still be standing. But standing he was, and he wasn’t going to sit down anytime soon, despite how his feet ached. Hell, despite the way his entire body ached. He’d spent a good amount of time as a monster chew toy, and that was on top of being dragged across a rough lake bottom, strangled by vines, and nearly drowned.

He needed sleep. He needed it three days ago, but what he needed didn’t matter. Not right now. Not when two people that Vecna had wanted dead slept in the room behind him. Not when he was the only thing between them and the influx of shady government agents. Not when half of what remained of the town wanted Eddie dead, and Steve couldn’t trust the Hawkin’s PD to do anything about protecting him.

His head slowly nodded towards his chest, and Steve closed his eyes for just a moment, flashes of blood and viscera waiting behind his eyelids. Eddie had been so close to dead, his skin torn to pieces by the demobats. The metalhead had lost so much blood as they struggled to pull him from the Upside Down that Steve still found it hard to believe he’d made it. Not that it had been easy. They had rushed Eddie to the hospital, holding him together with a sheet from the van they’d appropriated, and found the ER in shambles. The place had been swarmed with people injured during the ‘earthquakes’, and the hospital staff was scrambling to make sense of the chaos as people screamed and shouted.

Steve, holding Eddie, had turned to look at Nancy for guidance, only to find her looking pale and lost. She looked ready to faint, and the way Robin had taken to hovering by her was enough confirmation to know he wasn’t imagining that. He was left as the responsible adult then, and Steve looked back at the crowd before taking a deep breath.

“MOVE!” He shouted, gratified when the people in front of him startled and turned around, parting in front of him. He chalked it up to the way his voice sounded, harsh and gravelly, that they actually listened. But it also could have been the look of them all, covered in blood and black gunk, dressed in their battle attire. Irregardless, he walked through the crowd, snagging a gurney as an orderly walked into the room and laying Eddie on it. “Help him. Now.” He ordered, snapping at the first doctor he laid eyes on.

Someone behind him shouted suddenly. “Hey! It’s that Munson freak! He killed that cheerleader!”

Steve turned in a second, eyes wild as he whipped the axe out of his pack, swinging and halting its movement with the blade inches from the neck of the idiot who had pushed through the crowd. It felt like the entire room had gone silent, and Steve bared his teeth in a snarl. “Nobody. Touches. Him.”

The man’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head, and he nodded, backing away. Steve readjusted his grip on the axe, glaring at the crowd darkly to let his words sink in. “Anyone hurts him, and they’re dead.”

A few frantically nodded, while most stared in shock at the Harrington boy looking more like a manic veteran than a spoiled, rich kid. Steve nodded, not relaxing but deciding they’d listen to him as he turned back around. “What are you waiting for?” He snapped at the doctor, motioning for him to take Eddie. He didn’t stay behind, though, following them further into the hospital. They tried to stop him only once, but after Steve drove his axe through a tiled wall, they let him stay.

He hung back in the corner of the OR, watching the doctors with the eyes of a hawk, the fire in his eyes promising hell if they messed up and cost Eddie his life. He watched as they cleaned and cut and sutured and spilled more of Eddie’s blood in the process of saving him. He wouldn’t forget the sight of Eddie lying on that table while a heart monitor flatlined not once, not twice, but thrice during the procedure.

After the surgery, after learning of Max’s condition, Steve had insisted that the two be put in the same room, and after an apprehensive look at his axe, the hospital staff agreed. Thus, Steve stayed there, posted outside the room to watch for any danger that could come their way. He only ventured into the room when a doctor or nurse had to be in there, but other than that, he stood outside, arms crossed and axe back in his pack, glaring at anyone who glanced his way a little too curiously. The party was allowed in the room, but everyone else except the hospital staff was barred from the room.

The night had passed with the government moving in for damage control and heated arguments that Steve was sure he only won because he was ready to kill to protect his friends. The government didn’t need any more casualties than they already had on their hands.

Now, the day after, Steve watched as a newcomer walked down the hall. Tired as he was, Steve was alert, back straight, and eyes focused and calculating as he watched the older man come closer. He shifted from the wall to stand directly in front of the door, arms crossed and chin held high as the man drew even with him. “No one is allowed in here.” He said firmly, eyes narrowed. He’d had a couple of reporters come by that morning, and he’d quickly sent them running.

The man paused, seeming to size him up before losing some of the tension in his shoulders. “Well, I’m glad someone’s looking out for my rascal of a nephew.”

Steve blinked, eyes scanning over the man once more. Up close, he could see some resemblance between them, a similar shape of nose and jawline, though it was hidden a bit behind the man’s beard. “Wayne Munson?”

“That’s me. You the Harrington kid they say brought my nephew in?” Wayne asked, and Steve nodded curtly. “Then I owe you my thanks, son.”

Steve’s stomach flipped a bit at the look of gratitude that Wayne gave him. He didn’t deserve that look when Eddie had nearly died because they weren’t quick enough. He just nodded once more and stepped aside to let Wayne through. “He’s not awake yet, and the others are inside too.” He murmured, catching the man’s arm as he walked around. “I’m sorry. This shouldn’t have happened to him.” He said, throat tight as he forced the words out. He needed to say them, but doing so was difficult with the guilt choking him.

Wayne paused and reached up to pat Steve’s hand. “Bad things happen to good people, Harrington, and my nephew is one of the best.”

Steve nodded numbly and let go, looking up at the ceiling to fight off his tears as the door closed behind him. He heard voices speaking softly as Wayne met the others but tuned them out as another person passed by, glaring at her until she walked faster to get past him.

It was a few hours later that Steve heard the door open. From his spot leaning against the wall, he turned to look at Wayne as he came out. Surprised, Steve pushed off the wall, ignoring the flare of pain in his stomach and the exhaustion that pulled at him with the quick movement. “Is Eddie awake?”

“Take it easy, son. He’s still sleeping.” Wayne said, closing the door.

Steve sighed, raking a hand through his hair. Man, he needed a shower. But that was one more thing that could wait. Just like sleep, just like the painkillers he desperately wanted for his everything. “Sorry.” He mumbled, feeling Wayne’s eyes on him.

“You getcha self checked out, son?” The older man asked, and Steve straightened up quickly.

“I’m fine, sir. No need to worry about me.” Steve said firmly. He’d already promised himself he wouldn’t move from his post until someone he trusted took over. The party was still recovering, each too shaken or hurt, so no one could fill that place.

“Well, maybe not. But those kids in there seem to think there is.” The older man’s hand moved to his shoulder, and his sharp eyes were sure not to miss Steve's poorly hidden flinch as his hand pressed into the scraped skin under his clothes.

“I’m fine,” Steve repeated, unsure what else he could say. The hospital staff had tried to suggest he get checked out a couple of times, but with his axe behind him, he could stare them down until they stopped trying. He couldn’t do that to Eddie’s uncle. Not when the man’s eyes were still red from crying over his nephew.

“You don’t have to be,” Wayne murmured, and Steve pulled away as he realized he’d subconsciously been leaning into the touch, letting Wayne take his weight.

“I do.” He breathed, cursing his knees as they felt ready to buckle beneath him. He clenched his fists tight and quelled the tremors that had momentarily taken over his body. “There’s no one else who can protect them.”

Wayne huffed a slight chuckle. “You’re just as stubborn as the men I served with, kid.”

“I’m not a soldier,” Steve muttered, squinting over at the man as he tried subtly leaning back against the wall for support.

“No,” Wayne agreed, looking at him solemnly. “ But you’ve got the soul of one.”

Warmth ran down Steve’s face as a tear escaped. A little flare of pride bloomed in his chest, and he ducked his head. “I can’t leave them. Not yet.” He murmured and saw Wayne nod out of the corner of his eye.

“Alright, mind if I watch with you for a bit then?” The man asked, and Steve shook his head.

Wayne moved to settle on the floor, and slowly, Steve slid down the wall to join him. He could get up fast enough if he needed to.

“Those kids are lucky to have you around,” Wayne told him, and Steve smiled a little.

They sat like that for hours, Wayne talking softly and Steve contributing little as the ache in his throat slowly became more difficult to talk around. His lungs felt too full, and Steve belatedly remembered the spores in his face as they biked. His back was burning from the lacerations of being dragged across the dry lake, and he could feel the wounds on his stomach bleeding sluggishly under his clothes. His neck ached as Steve struggled to keep his head up and avoid sleep, the phantom feeling of a vine curling around his skin. He felt hot and cold all at once, and he knew Wayne was slowly getting more worried.

Just when it seemed that Wayne would insist on him seeing a doctor, Steve’s head snapped up to familiar voices coming down the corridor. He was on his feet in a second, running to them. “El! Hopper!”

“Steve!” El’s voice was like a signal to his body, and all at once, everything hit Steve hard. He stumbled, nearly blacking out as he lost a few seconds and found Hopper holding him up.

“Damnit, kid. What happened to you?” The ex-sheriff asked, and Steve could only laugh hysterically, coughing as the sound aggravated his throat and lungs.

“Vecna.” He croaked, weakly gripping onto one of Hopper’s arms. “You’re not dead.” He said, a chuckle and a horrendous cough following. He heard Hopper curse as sputum-covered spores landed on the floor.

“Medic! I need a doctor over here!” Hopper shouted, and Steve didn’t fight it this time, only twisting to find El and grab her hand.

“The others.” He rasped, gaze boring into her eyes as his vision tunneled. “Protect them. Vecna- The lab-” He started coughing too hard to speak further, folding in on himself. His world went topsy-turvy for a moment, and then he was lying on a gurney, a small hand in his hair as he fought to breathe.

“I’ll keep them safe.” El’s voice promised, and Steve blinked up at her. “We protect them. It is what we do.” She said solemnly, and Steve felt a weight lift off him. She got it. She understood, and she’d take care of them. Vecna wouldn’t get past her, nor the lab either.

Steve felt someone yank his shirt up, and he cried out as the wet material pulled at raw skin. Several gasps went up, and then someone was shouting. “I need a crash cart now! Let’s get him in a room!” Steve watched El and Hopper disappear from view, and his eyes slipped shut. The party was safe. He could rest now. “Mr. Harrington? Mr. Harrington! He’s unresponsive.”

Down the hall, Wayne stared after the departure of the unconscious patient. “That is one hell of a young man.” He murmured.

“You have no idea,” Hopper mumbled, and El nodded before turning towards Max and Eddie’s room. She would protect them and Steve, too. It was what they did.

#whumptober2023 #no.8 #lyric #i've got soul but i'm not a soldier #overcrowded er #stranger things #fic #mild blood tw #violence tw #injury tw #read on ao3 #fanfiction #ao3 link #fanfic #steve harrington #stranger things steve

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gaeilgeoirgay · 2 years

Text

Day Nineteen

Figured I can’t do Whumptober 2022 without crossposting the rest of 2021 like I promised lol. Sorry it took me so long!

the echoes of his visions

Paul stumbles from the Reverend Mother’s chambers, stabbing pains reverberating up his hand through to his arm. His entire left side is throbbing, echoes of the horrendous pain the Bene Gesserit box caused. His mother is nowhere to be seen.

He makes his way to their ship, unsteady on his feet. Doctor Yueh is waiting and his face creases in concern at Paul’s visage. Well, clearly he looks like shit then. The doctor hurries towards him and pokes him several times. He knows that Suk medicine is more complicated than that but his head is pounding now, and that’s honestly what it feels like.

Yueh finishes his exam and guides Paul onto the ship, gently helping him into a seat before rummaging in his bag for some medicine. Paul closes his eyes and leans back in his seat, the cool leather soothing his headache slightly.

The meds don’t do anything when Yueh gives them to him and the doctor clicks his tongue in disappointment. “Whatever your test was, it appears the pain it caused is mental, a psychic wound of sorts. Medicine will not help, but perhaps rest will.” He says, shaking his head. Paul can tell he wants to say more but he’s exhausted and in pain- he can’t be bothered to push.

The door slides open again and his mother boards the ship, still wrapped in her old Bene coverings. She sucks in a harsh breath at the sight of Paul’s slumped form but she doesn’t seem surprised at his condition. There are dried tears on her face but Paul can’t bring himself to care. It probably makes him a horrible son but his mother was the one who brought him to the Reverend Mother, he thinks he can have a reprieve just this once.

His mind is filled with the echoes of his visions. He saw fire again, during the test, and he saw the sands of Arrakis. The visions scare him, though he’ll never admit it to anyone other than family. And Duncan, which is basically the same thing. The vision he’d had of Duncan’s death is the one that terrifies him the most. That sand and stone corridor, littered with bodies, and Duncan’s corpse.

Actually, now that he thinks of it, he had thought that Duncan would die amongst the Fremen, due to the first vision of him meeting with them, but the bodies were Sardukar. Why would there be Sardukar warriors on Arrakis? His head spikes with pain again and he closes his eyes, groaning.

A cold hand rests on his forehead and Paul leans into it, letting the cold wash away the pain. His hand spasms, and he tries to straighten it but stabbing cramps shoot through his entire arm when he does, so he leaves it. They’ll be back at the palace soon anyways, and he can rest then.

It doesn’t take long to reach home and Doctor Yueh brings the ship to a smooth descent, nary a sound coming from the landing gear. There are still lights on in the palace, even though it’s so late. He spots a glow globe in the window of the training room near his chambers and decides it’s probably just Gurney and Duncan. They like to spar in the middle of the night, for some Godforsaken reason, instead of sleeping like normal people.

Paul doesn’t look at his mother as they walk to his chambers but she takes hold of his arm as they pass the training room. She realises her mistake instantly when Paul wrenches it back with a cry of pain, curling protectively around the injured limb.

The doors to the training room swing open and Gurney and Duncan burst out, clearly expecting some sort of assassination attempt based on Paul’s cry. To be fair, someone did once try and assassinate Paul at age twelve, so their concern is justified.

Instead, they only see Jessica and Paul standing opposite each other, Paul cradling his arm. They lower their swords in confusion and glance around as if they expect an axe wielding maniac to leap from the shadows. If his arms wasn’t attempting to destroy his goddamned sanity, Paul would have laughed at the looks on their faces.

“Paul? My lady? Is everything alright?” Gurney asks cautiously while Duncan comes over to examine Paul for any hint of injury. He doesn’t find a scratch and he looks up at Paul’s pain-filled eyes with bemusement. Physically, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with him. Mentally, Paul just wants to sleep for a week.

Duncan frowns and exchanges a strange look with Gurney. “Perhaps we should turn in for the night. We all have early starts.” Duncan suggests, and Paul nods. His bed sounds like heaven right now.

The odd procession reach his chambers after a few minutes and both his mother and Doctor Yueh leave, his mother saying she would speak to him in the morning about his trial. Doctor Yueh gives him a bottle of meds that would knock him straight unconscious as soon as possible and bids them farewell but Gurney and Duncan stay.

Paul doesn’t have the energy to question them so he simply opens the door and collapses onto his bed, careful of his arm. Gurney takes a seat at the low table and Duncan hops up onto the windowsill, both of them watching him with measure concern.

“What happened, Paul? You’re clearly in pain and you were cold with Lady Jessica, like I have never seen you be before.” Duncan asks bluntly, wasting no time.

Paul sighs but answers. “The Reverend Mother wanted to see me so Mom woke me up and brought me to her. The Reverend Mother wanted to test me, to see if I have the control necessary to use my gifts. She had a Gom Jabbar at my neck and a box that caused immense pain. I was supposed to put my hand in the box and let it hurt me. If I took my hand out, she would have killed me.” He says simply, not wishing to go into great detail.

Gurney swears colourfully and gets up to come inspect Paul’s hand. “God, Paul, that must’ve been excruciating. I’m guessing Yueh’s pain medication didn’t work? You look like you’re about to keel over.” He says, and Paul shrugs.

“Doctor Yueh said it was because the pain was mental rather than physical. He gave me something to sleep though, so I’ll be alright.” He says and Gurney nods.

“Alright then, Paul. You rest and Duncan and I will keep watch.” He says decisively. Paul doesn’t have the strength to argue with him so he takes the pills and falls back into his bed, secure in the knowledge that two of the most dangerous men in Caladan are guarding him. He’s safe here. Gurney and Duncan would never let any harm come to him.

#whumptober 2021 #dune #paul atreides #day nineteen

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jtrbluv · 2 years

Text

(!) fic alert (!)

FREEFALL | KTH

releasing on SUNDAY, APRIL 3RD @ 7PM PST

summary: hearing banging noises outside your front door at 11 at night could mean one out of two things. one, you are seconds away from getting chopped up by an axe murderer. two, someone is purposefully being an inconsiderate asshole.

or three, a fratboy from delta phi who goes by the name of kim taehyung faceplants in front of your door amidst a high-stakes game of… hide and seek?

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: fluff, smut (pretty tame tbh! cuz it’s my first time eek), comedy, college!au, fratboy!au

word count: around 8k

warnings: grinding, dryhumping, palming, mentions of drugs and alcohol (yk regular frat shit), swearing, taehyung is a gentleman fr tho my gawd with a big co-

A/N: AH SO SCARY FR, welcome to the first installment of jumi trying to write smut but actually posting it this time ??? crazy! anyways i’ve had this idea circulate in my mind FOR FOREVER. and it’s been in my wips for a very long time, but i knew this was one of the things i wanted to finish so here it is! a little spring break treat for all of us :D also, if it wasn’t obvious enough, PLS NEVER DO WHAT OC DOES AND LET A STRANGER INTO UR HOUSE CUZ ERM...

please comment if you want to be part of the taglist!

Your eyes flash open as you forcefully twist the doorknob at once and jerk the door open—the hinges let out a shrill squeak as the door flies back into the wall as it rebounds into your shoulder. You stand your ground at the door with both hands on your umbrella like a baseball bat, ready to swing at whatever jerk thought it was a good idea to run laps around the hallway at 11pm.

Except, there was absolutely no one to be seen.

Your shoulders slump and you drop your arms, the umbrella falling to your side as you peer and check in both directions of the hallway.

“Uh, hi there.”

The deep timbre of a male voice causes you to convulse back into reality, the umbrella you were gripping onto plopping in front of the man’s feet. You take the moment to scan just what exactly was happening right now, and what is stalling you from your highly anticipated time of rest.

The man was perched on the floor while rubbing at his temple, a handful of brown, wavy locks slipped in between his fingers. His face was slightly contorted in what seemed to be pain, but you couldn’t tell that clearly because of the black-rimmed glasses that were slowly sliding to the tip of his nose. He scrunches his nose to readjust his frames, his focus shifting back and forth between the evident frown that was painted across your features and the fact that he was idiotically splayed in front of your door.

You cross your arms, still having no answers as to why there is a stranger sitting in front of your doorstep albeit him being extremely pleasing to the eye. You weren’t going to let him know that, of course.

“Uh, do you care to explain what you’re doing here at… 11pm?” You ask him gruffly while checking the time on your phone, still not pleased with his unexpected presence.

He stands up, dusting off and straightening his clothes before pushing his glasses back up with one of his fingers. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt that clung quite nicely to his body, the beige cardigan he was wearing was falling off of one of his shoulders while he timidly hands the umbrella back to you, avoiding all chances of eye contact.

“Okay, this is going to sound really dumb, but the frat I’m in is playing a game right now.” He attempts to reason.

You raise a brow. “A game?”

“Hide and seek.” He says in a hushed tone as if there was anyone that was going to hear the two of you.

“Oh…” Is all you could really say.

Because what the fuck sort of frat partakes in elementary school games in their free time.

MASTERLIST

#bts smut #bts ff #taehyung ff #taehyung smut #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #taehyung x reader #bts fluff #taehyung fluff #taehyung #taehyung angst

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unfoundhoney · 3 years

Text

a sister’s sacrifice ; part two ↠

↠ platonic!c!sleepy bois inc x fem!reader , platonic!c!tubbo x fem!reader ; angst with a minuscule amount of fluff

↠ masterlist

↠ part one ; part two ; part three ;

↠ @leafyturtle @basheverythingyesterday @terribletoothbat

after all is said and done

after l’manberg is left half-ruined but still breathing

after techno runs off

after tommy and tubbo take seats in the cabinet

after wilbur has been killed by phil

after it all, you leave

you leave l’manberg & the rest of the server & refuse to pick a side

you move to a dark oak forest & build a little cottage for yourself hidden among the trees

you’re tired

you’re so so tired of everything & you just want to be at peace

of course, you could never fully leave everything

you’re still visited by your brothers (those that are left) & your friends

you help niki with her flower shop & various other building projects

you remain out of any political affairs tommy & tubbo are involved in

but you still spend most of your time alone in the woods

you’re content living like this

are you happy with the way your life has turned out?

god no

but you can live with being content

& then ghostbur shows up

(ghostbur) hello! are you the y/n phil keeps talking about?

you wanna talk about trauma?

let’s talk about being approached out of nowhere in the middle of the woods while mushroom hunting by your DEAD BROTHER and a blue sheep on a leash

what the f u c

(you, bewildered) ...will?

(ghostbur) i’m not wilbur. not the one you knew. i’m ghostbur! are you y/n? you look like phil described & i haven’t managed to find any other houses hidden in the dark oak forest.

this is... great

ghostbur becomes quite attached to you

will had distanced himself while living in pogtopia as his mental state deteriorated

it seems ghostbur is fulfilling the closeness alivebur wishes to have had maintained with you

.......

cool

this is fine

it’s totally fine

ghostbur visits you often

even though you know it’s not really your wilbur, it’s nice in some odd way to have a version of wilbur still around

it’s through ghostbur that you learn of tommy’s exile, long after it had happened

it seems no one wanted a protective mama bear y/n sent after them, so during your brief visits to the main residential areas, talk of tommy’s exile was conventiently never a conversation piece

you just figured he was busy or distracted or avoiding you like a moody teen

then ghostbur hands you a small letter one day

(you) what’s this?

(ghostbur) it’s an invitation to tommy’s beach party. he’s been quite lonely in exile

(you) quite lonely in what now

ghostbur fills you in as best as his little ghost brain can on what’s happened with tommy & burning down geroge’s house & tubbo exiling him

what do you mEAN TUBBO EXILED TOMMY????

WTFFFFF??????!!!

CAN YOU GET A BREAK????!!!?!?!?

WHAT ARE THESE IDIOT CHILDREN DOING

you’re the only person to get an invite

you watch from afar, wary of approaching your youngest brother with dream so close

you wait for dream to leave before going to him

(you) tommy?

(tommy) ...y/n!

you catch him in a hug without hesitation

(tommy) i knew you’d come

(you) tommy, i’m so sorry. i had no idea you’d even been exiled or i would have visited you immediately-... are you okay?

tommy is so....

he’s so.......

worn down

his clothes are torn & dirty, he has bags under his eyes

he’s thinner than he used to be, which is very concerning as he’s always been a bit of a walking stick

he just looks so tired

the usual fire that burns behind his eyes whether in anger or mischief or just happiness is nonexistent

(tommy) what?

(you) are you okay? i’d been worried because i hadn’t seen you around and- god, i’m so sorry. i should’ve looked for you or asked about you but i just assumed and now this and-... tom?

tommy just starts crying

because he thought you’d stopped caring about him too

he thought everyone stopped caring about him

but you’re here & you’re concerned & you’re as caring as usual

he buries his face in your shoulder & just cries his little heart out

you hold him and pet his hair and just let him cry

(you) tommy

(tommy) yeah?

(you) come home with me

(tommy) what?

(you) come home with me. you can live with me for the time being & we’ll get this sorted out, okay?

you’d seen how manipulative dream was being even in the short time you’d watched him & your brother, so it takes some convincing but soon tommy has packed his things & is heading out with you back to your home in the dark oak forest

you spend a while nursing him back to health, both physically & mentally

it’s truly heartbreaking having to recondition him out of the dependent mindset on dream

it also pisses you the fuck off but you focus your energy on tommy, not on revenge

tommy tries many times to convince you to come back

to go back to l’manberg & “plant the seed of rebellion”

which wasn’t even call for an actual rebellion, just that you could go back & raise hell about your littlest brother being exiled & demand he be allowed back

but time & time again you refuse

you are content staying away from everything & remaining out of conflict

tommy is very much not

so you lead him to techno’s new home

(you) don’t cause too much trouble for him

(tommy) he blew up l’manberg!

(you) wilbur blew up l’manberg. techno just tried to kill the government

you leave him there & head back home

do you get a moderately angry visit a few days later from techno, who eventually agrees to helping tommy upon your asking?

possibly

you’re not present when tommy & techno sneak onto the smp

you’re not there when tommy & tubbo fight

or during the doomsday war when techno, phil, & dream lay waste to l’manberg once and for all

you’re aware, yes

you’re around, you’re in the know

you just remain out of conflict & out of sight

you’re also not there to say goodbye to tommy & tubbo as they head off for their final battle with dream

that little tidbit you weren’t caught up on, too busy wallowing in your own self misery & crying over your broken family

but ghostbur comes to visit that day

(ghostbur) hello, y/n!

(you) hello, ghostbur. it’s nice to see you

(ghostbur) you, as well! would you like some blue

(you) no. thank you.

(ghostbur) i sure do hope tommy & tubbo come back alright

(you) come back from what?

you were expecting “a trip to the nether,” “a journey to a new woodland mansion,” “a search for sunken ships”

instead, you get:

(ghostbur) their final battle with dream. they set off not too long ago

(you) ........if you’ll excuse me

you head off immediately, tracking tommy & tubbo despite all odds

you do not care, those are your brothers & they are not dying on your watch to dream of all people

they may have been told it’s a battle

they may think they have a chance

but this is dream we’re talking about

you know a trap when you see one

you climb up the mountainside as stealthily as possible

you arrive just in time to hear tubbo’s screams as he is cornered and killed by dream, losing his second canon life

tommy seems to be beat into submission as dream threatens to kill tubbo a final time, who respawns defenseless without any of his items

dreams leads them down into the mountain, villain monologuing the whole way

dramatic bitch

you jump down after them, tired of hearing him threaten your brothers

(you) i think you’ve said enough, dream

(dream) there you are. i was beginning to wonder when mama bear would show up

you put yourself between dream and your brothers

(you) you won’t hurt them anymore. i’m taking them & we’re leaving

(dream) i don’t think that’s up to you, y/n

(you) we’ll see

you take the first swing at dream, landing a clean hack at his shoulder with your axe

but again

this is dream we’re talking about

you’ve never been the most talented fighter & dream is second only to technoblade

i.e. you never stood a chance

but all reason went out the window when it comes to saving your brothers

soon you’re backed against a wall, dream’s axe at your throat

(dream) well this was a waste of time

(you) you’re a monster

(dream) thanks

(you) you think distancing yourself from everyone & everything will work? trust me, it doesn’t. it doesn’t matter how far away you move or how much you push those you love away, those feelings will always be there

dream considers you for a moment

you hope he at least has no satisfaction as you stare back in defiance

you’re unafraid; coming down here was a death sentence & yet you still jumped in headfirst

(dream) maybe for someone like you. but i’m not like you. i don’t care about anything or anyone on this server. i’m not burdened by attachment & i will never be again.

(you) i pity you, dream

(dream) pity me in hell

dreams draws his arm back & swings his axe down

you will lose your final canon life to dream, for your brothers

it’s always for your brothers

as much as you think you should hate them, hate everyone for everything that has happened to you

you can’t

they’re your family

you’ll love them infinitely

tubbo gasps in shock & tommy gives a yell of protest

you know they love you, too

you close your eyes

dream’s axe meets your neck

and you’re gone

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