#i don’t know if the author is on tumblr otherwise i would’ve tagged them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hufflautia · 3 years

Text

Where it all started [Part 1]

Chapter 1

Sometimes links don’t appear on posts. if you can’t see the link to “Chapter 1”, my masterlist is pinned to the top of my blog, and you can find it there.

Summary: Slytherin’s parents have another argument, but at this point, no one’s surprised. After all, they’re her parents. It would be abnormal if they didn’t argue. However, this one’s a biggie. The fight ends with the slam of a door and her dad packing his bags into the car and getting ready to leave. Desperate for him to come back, Slytherin’s mom forces her to go to him with a message that will surely make him stay. Buckle up folks, for this is where it all began.

Slytherin stood on the sidewalk as she watched her dad pack up his things into the van.

She dug her fingernails into her arm, her heart stinging with ache as her dad turned around with a smile on his face, a failed attempt to reassure her that it was going to be ok. It was all gonna be ok. After all, this was normal, right? It’s not like it was unusual that her dad was leaving again to go back to Florida, where the homewrecker waited for him, her outstretched hands eagerly opened up to him and his credit card.

However, this was the first time he left abruptly. A spike of sorrow stabbed at Slytherin’s heart as she thought back to the sound of her parents’ door abruptly opening; soon after, she could hear angry stomps that quickly descended down the steps of the staircase.

She could almost hear the hiss in her ear as she stood in the archway of the living room, watching her dad leave in the far distance. “Tell him that Ravenclaw’s crying,” her mother spat, pushing her towards the front door. “Quickly, before he leaves!”

Slytherin internally sighed. How typical. Instead of resolving their relationship issues by going to couples therapy, her mom decided to throw all those burdens onto her daughter, who had already grown tragically used to being used as her puppet.

She decided not to argue against going after her dad and trying to guilt-trip him into staying home as her mom wanted. Otherwise, she would be lectured on how she’s selfish and wouldn’t do this small thing for her mom, how she’s basically ruining this family by letting her dad leave, how family is so fucking important and manipulating her dad into staying would be vital to their happiness as a whole, how family this and family that.

You get the point. Slytherin certainly did. That’s why she was currently standing awkwardly behind her dad, staring at his back as he lifted boxes into his car.

“Um, Raven…” She paused. Her throat felt dry and tight. Swallowing with difficulty, she tried again. “Ravenclaw’s crying.”

It wasn’t the crying itself that mattered. That wasn’t the main reason why her mom rushed her out the door to deliver the message to her dad. It was simply the fact that it was Ravenclaw who was crying. Let’s just say that he and his dad had a complicated relationship.

Things were never the same between them after Ravenclaw sent an angry message to him via text when he was in Florida a year ago. The contents of the message reeked of disdain for his constant infidelity. When his mom found out, she shoved the phone into Slytherin’s face in the dead of night and asked if she knew about this. The glaring light from the screen nearly blinded her.

Slytherin read the text messages through squinted eyes and could make out a few curse words here and there. Though she was slightly disoriented from the sudden ambush of information, it was clear to her that her brother resented their dad for what he did.

That made Ravenclaw’s anguish even more useful in their mom’s opinion. Seeing the tears streak down his face when he heard that his dad was leaving again, she had a glorious idea. Perhaps if her husband knew of their son’s sorrow, he would reconsider his abrupt departure. After all, it was Ravenclaw who was crying.

If it were Hufflepuff, that would be understandable—she can get quite emotional sometimes. But it was Ravenclaw, who was usually guarded and distant. One might suggest that he was secretly broken inside. But that’s not the point, at least not in his mom’s opinion. The main thing she was concerned about was that she could use his misery to her advantage! Maybe if her husband knew of his sadness, he would feel guilty enough to stay behind. After all, if his son, who despised him, was upset over his departure, perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to stay home and endure his wife’s temper for a little while longer.

Slytherin’s words did produce somewhat of a reaction. Her dad didn’t turn around for a while, but when he did, his eyes were slightly red and puffy. It was evident that he was trying to hold back his tears. One might think that this means that he’ll stay. He seemed distraught over the news that his son was crying because of his leave. Surely, he’ll stay, right?

It wasn’t enough. Nothing ever seems to be enough.

“I’ll be back soon, okay?” He hugged her briefly and gave a light squeeze as a sign of reassurance. As a silent message that it was going to be ok. Even though everything was most definitely not okay. A thousand hugs and gestures of reassurance wouldn’t change this.

Slytherin didn’t react angrily to his refusal, the unspoken declaration of No, I will not go back home. In fact, it seemed as if she didn’t react at all. However, if one were paying close attention, they would notice the sparkle in her eyes dim. But maybe there wasn’t a sparkle to begin with. She had been enduring this shit for so long that she forgot what it was like to be normal, to feel like the white kid you see in commercials, the one who seemed to radiate mirth, a type of energy that said, I don’t have a care in the world because life is so fucking great and I can’t stop smiling. She didn’t even bother to smile, a common facial expression when one is in a difficult situation and tries to diffuse the somber atmosphere by slapping a facade on their face, the corners of their lips upturned to form a grimace that resembles some sort of a smile—a twisted kind of smile, that’s for sure. Why should she pretend that everything was okay when it wasn’t? Instead, she merely nodded in response.

When her dad pulled away to pack the last box into the trunk, she took a deep breath to diminish the familiar sense of abandonment that flooded her senses, to clear the warning signs that flashed in her mind. He’s leaving! Your dad is leaving! He’s abandoning you again. You’re apparently not important enough for him to stay.

She stared at the ground, only looking up when she heard the sound of a car door slamming shut. The resounding click was all it took for the waterfalls to finally pour from her eyes, for it was at this moment when she realized that this was actually happening. This was no dream—it was reality. Her sad, devastating reality. Tears blurred her vision as she watched the car drive away, leaving her in the dust.

Slytherin gasped in erratic breaths between her broken sobs as her eyes hung onto the tiny speck that resembled her dad who was driving

away,

and a-w-a-y.

Through the jumble of thoughts that clashed in her head, one thing was clear. Her dad was her dad, but only sometimes.

Tears streaking down her face, she tried to soothe her pain with the belief that he would be back soon. If only she had known that it would be a while before he returned. If only he hadn’t left. Perhaps things would’ve been different for her if he stayed, for this was where it started.

This marked the beginning of it all.

Comments and reblogs are a writer’s gold!

MASTERLIST ; sometimes links don’t appear on posts. if you can’t see the link to “MASTERLIST”, the masterlist itself is pinned to the top of my blog. check it out if you haven’t already!

Author’s note: HI! Were you surprised to see that I posted two fics in a row?? I hope you enjoyed this. Most of it was unfortunately based on what happened to me a year or two ago. I based Ravenclaw on my brother, who did actually cry when my dad was leaving after an argument, and yes, my wack mother did force me to run after my dad to tell him. One of the few differences is that I’m not a drug addict and I’m fine now so dont worry.

Idk how I feel about this series, it is a lot darker from what I usually write. I know I’m gonna have to write more for creative writing class, so maybe i will continue it. I will try to think of how to turn these fics into something more positive, because this stuff is very heavy and depressing. however, that will be a little difficult because the plot itself is naturally drab. however, i will try to think of a happy ending for Faye/Slytherin.

Shall we look at some wholesome pictures?

lmaoaoa i pasted this picture from the internet and tumblr glitched and pushed the pic all the way to the top. imagine seeing this dog at the beginning of the fic, that would be funny :’)

AWWWWWW I THINK THIS MIGHT BE MY FAVORITE

ok hold up i just realized that is probably a stuffed animal 😐 this is so embarassing lmaoaoa when i saw it i was like THAT IS SO FRICKIN CUTE

OK WAIT WTF NOW I THINK ITS AN ACTUAL DOG??? CAN SOMEONE HELP AND TELL ME IF ITS REAL OR NOT?!! at first, i thought it was real, but then i looked at the paws and it looked kinda fake and i was like this dog is too fluffy and wholesome to be real. BUT THEN I LOOKED AGAIN and i think the owners just put the pooh outfit over the dog?? what is going on with my brain.. but at the same time, its 2 am for me rn so maybe i should get some sleep BUT FIRST, LETS LOOK AT MORE DOGS <3 (lmaoaoa i feel like my friend would say “gosh ur such a hufflepuff” (menna im talking about u lmao omg hey gorl))

After seeing this gryffindor pup, i immediately searched up “dog costumes hufflepuff” lmaoooooo

OK THATS ENOUGH DOGS FOR NOW. Part 2 is coming soon. I already have it ready but I might not post it right away.

That’s all for now. Be sure to let me know what you think. TOODELOOO!

TAGS: @slytherpuff-shenanigans @lokijiro @xxkitsurikaxx @sara-is-boredd @skylee-skz @determinedpines @draco22malfoy @pancakes-and-sugar @casteel08 @indigosimon1998 @tell-that-to-my-feather @the-ugly-duck0 @prettyblueskylark @okiguessimawitchnow @daisyinmyheart @peachyblue @korra4321 @shoyoockbby @ravenflowersposts @walkinganomaly @parkerthemarker02 @hummingbird-hufflepuff @bumbblebeeeeee @luciferswife16 @iknow-im-cute @maisen98 @shadowsinger11 @tuonglam03 @fanfic-reblogger @mygc0re @rellasworld @sha3thehunter @croctusjuice @jadefox05 @d0uxs @charleii @kaylenthegreat @hufflepufflepukwudgie3897 @insertlongnamehere @trashpannda @ihate-myname @nowheredreamer @history-geek101 @strawberrypanda99 @nikkijovanic @hannanshi @sirenofthe7seas @johannamariemst @badass-like-damon @willow-salix @remmyswritings @x-whatsupdoc-x @dracosvftie @hitchhiker-of-the-galaxy @akerlizzie @thatfann @justanxiousme @another-witch @bucinjisung @elegantcroissantplaidpony @treefroggo @narritydream @hufflpuffles @adreameratdawn @leftpeanutturtleegg @turbulentbluebird5 @geekgirl69 @praiseourlordduck @quakemebacktothe50s @nomad-of-the-realms @stardustzainy @theblackwolf21 @crakencc @introvertedrae @cryinbisexual @bojelina @cocoqueenstheword @manicpixiedreamtarot @velvetstrawberry @jxmpsuitx @simpering-simpleton @urfaveslytherin @asterinatlas @simpforkpop @pufflehuff929 @morallyambiguoussimp @applekenm @chunwest @oncergleekpotterhead @no1-importan @qiaopao @dulduldoldul @schlongbottom @vickeyunicorn @peanut-in-the-goal @hufflepuffgirly @flvrqnce @nothingtoseehere812 @maxwellsgang @1d-killed-me @betacaroteno-lanudo @dragon-slayer-fairy1 @thatonebislytherin @dragonsandbread @justanotherperson @sophiexteresa @hmilkwhoney @writertwiddle @questionsbecameourocean @anomiatartle @coldsweetharmony @dont-hyuck @fixstationed @kindawannadietbh @trippy-morgan @xo-angel-ox @fangirlgeekandfreak @evolnura @mossy-axolotl @verylovelystars @boilyourteeth @megand2017 @malfoys-demigod @booksntings @joshirlangford @staymoarmyzen @poojxshxh @hedgepuffgirl @alverniaphi @verifiefangirl-mainblog @purpleskymalfoy @roxy3457 @rayanicaraynbow @jess-harrywars @starrysonic @tonksichu @lauxtbs @tumlbr-trasher @chelseasosa @thebiggestnaturaldisaster @swagangelhorsepickle @princessstoopid @pymmoon @emilyaneliperry @pond-waterr @pandapillow @saraleo95 @astrartss @trentalexanders @theoriginaljohnwatsonsblog @nevilletheplantboi @just--another--hufflepuff @yoongifiess @ajdqueen @annie-mcl @coloring-bud @majorfangirl37 @eatacrackerandstop @weasleytwinswheezes @imscaredofhorses @dontmindmeimjustabox @glitterykidlightmug @multi-fandom-nutjob @littleemotionalpanda @thewitcheswords @blueberry-9-pancakes @worldsbestdilfbecky @qixnsriess @inexperiencedpotathoe @notsowiseravenclaw @captiniminnie @ruinyourface @da-fox-rangerrr @inkedintothepaper @happy-puff @grandcyclecreation @dawinehouse @catiwisspuff @aasa2102 @mae-25 @sydthekidd98 @kokichismango @xxavaloraxx @iamahufflepuff @adoregin @sunnniiee @lewispoolerpayton @dumbbitch85 @bumblebirbs @diggorycullen @protectorofsk8topia @silverhetdanes @zuko-28 @beardedhumanoid @arianatorpotterhead @shipping-book-keeper @marvelenthusiast10 @i-cannot-do-aesthetics @a-huffleing-lesbean @kaslec @hufflepuffwritess @mouthfacereborn @kodeinekissss @ihavenocontrolofmylifeeither @pinqgchuu @im-a-solanum-lycopersicum @clementines-x @stressy-depressy @sweetinvisiblewriter @absentmindeduniverse @asnowpuff @theofficialgaybestfriend @violayaxley @sunshinyyb @colettedelaurel @theoriginalsherlockholmesblog @i-have-a-bad-feeling @jpow345 @gay-disaster826 @bloodyxheaven @autumnpleaves @froggy-failure @toomanybandstocare @pink1babez @untitled-2424 @sleepdeprivedgurl @chaseanders @wolfpack-arts-industries99 @nugnugchick @queenofwordsandnerds @ganjeolhiddaeng @wordy-escapades @writtenfoxscreams @w0odr0ses @coolpetsmcubandit @crypticcandi @widowsgranger @fantasyprincess101 @wiiltedflowers @aestheticworldd @miniaturefunnytraveldonkey @bucketofdeadroses @uwuplsh @softedits-exe @cel3stialone @sofiapeachyy @wanderaven92 @eunnieah @marsupialsgotbloodyears @eurydicedior @neonuzumaki @uhhhem

91 notes · View notes

thejudgingtrash · 4 years

Note

would you class percy as a morally grey character? i’m really interested to hear your input

Anon 2: Would u class percy as an Morally Gray character?

Hey there! Let me write that essay for you about morally gray Percy ^^

It’s not about whether Percy is a morally gray character or not, it’s about he has to be otherwise the story doesn’t make any sense. At least for me it wouldn’t.

Ashley (@gr33kg0ds) said in the tags of my dark!Percy post something along the line of people diminishing Percy’s character because they need him to be pure and fluffy and I wholeheartedly agree with that!

Just because Percy’s twelve doesn’t mean he’s pure and didn’t do unproblematic things. I’ll mostly refer to The Lightning Thief because that book is the Magnus Opus for Riordan and perfectly stands for Percy as a morally gray character from the very beginning of the saga. (Also the only book I’ve recently re-read)

As much as I love fanon with all the amazing artworks, debates, memes and jokes, analysis, cool edits and wonderful fanfics, projecting your version of Percy doesn’t make the image in your head real. Percy in canon is not the fun and fluffy boy you imagine him to be or which social media sites (Reddit, Twitter, Instagram and yes, also Tumblr) tend to make him to be. He’s a scrawny little sarcastic twerp that was the unpopular kid. He isn’t that cringy dude Tony Lopez doing that fucking weird TikTok dance (side note: I don’t even know who this person is and I don't care, I saw the video and immediately wanted to delete every social media app on my phone, so thanks Tony?), kissing his Yeezys goodnight, vibing to our lord and gay icon Taylord “T. Swizzle” Swift song and flexing them iPhone 11 Max Pros. Percy literally said that going to Burger King with his mother once in a while would be considered a luxury. He’s a poor bastard in literal sense.

Part of the problem with the distinction of Percy’s character and his motives stem from the fact that Percy is a sneaky unreliable narrator and we as the audience (especially if you’re younger) don’t question most of his behavior if you even question some (pretty sure that most of us only picked up weird stuff as adults). Everything seems plausible to you. But does it mean that his behavior is necessarily good? Something that would paint his character as good?

Like I’ve said, let’s take a look at TLT. The very beginning of everything and the wonderful line that gets quoted everywhere: “Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood”.

The very first line that quoted everywhere or used as in moodboard and edits but its meaning and significance get brushed off for the most part. It immediately sets the tone and the atmosphere for the book and for Percy as a character. A(n in my opinion) morally gray character. The very first thing we hear from Percy is that he doesn’t want to be in this world. He’s an involuntary participant who has been (upon further reading) blackmailed and forced into this world and is only cooperating to get his mother back and said in regards to his father (who also stands for the Greek pantheon) ”well yeah, would be nice to know about my dad but I’ve survived without him the past twelve years so I don’t know, he wouldn’t be missed necessarily I guess?“ That pretty much tells you, it foreshadows, that we will be dealing with someone with grit, someone that fights back, someone that went through shit, someone that isn’t a goody two-shoed character. Does it mean he’s a terrible (in the sense of evil or bad) character from the get go? Not really, but it tells you in nuances that he won’t be the white shining knight you might expect from a fairy tale.

There is so much that little Perseus Jackson has to offer you directly in the first book. So much that paints him as a morally gray character. From the illegal candy stash all the way to tricking Procrustes into his own trap. He knows right from wrong and isn’t innocent by any means. He wants you to think he’s innocent. Yes, he hunts monsters and the book also tells you that some adults (Gabe) can also be monsters, but Percy’s personality is so interesting and full of facets which I love! He’s misleading you on purpose. Deflects, plays events down. He lies in front of you to others but you don’t really doubt it. Instead of questioning it, you understand it.

What distinguishes Percy from other male protagonists in that notion that the author doesn’t try to paint him as particularly good (the reader connects the dots, in reality) is pretty much that. Percy is neither inherently good or bad. He’s in the middle. He does lots of questionable things and his personality adds to it. Something that immediately comes to my mind is his lack of fear of consequences. He thinks in the short term and not in the long term. Of course, he’s caring about those that are close and important to him (Grover, Annabeth and his mother of course. And well. The world not getting destroyed by his weird father and fucking crazy uncle would be a plus). But Percy isn’t really a strategist (yet). Look at the Medusa head thingy. Annabeth and Grover warn him, that he’s gonna get his ass beat and he doesn’t care. That these gods could squish him in the end didn’t matter to him.

The Olympian gods are painted as these unpenetrable huge mighty force and some fuzzy annoyed twelve year old dipshit sends them the severed head of a monster - but not any monster, the monster his father had a role in creating (well, Athena for the most part, but you know what I mean). (Also, I know this kinda reckless behavior gets sorta rewarded but at first, everyone was like ‘NO, NO, NO!’ before Percy was glorious with his attempt). Percy essentially tells these ancient forces that drive the way of his new cosmos how shit‘s gonna work from now on.

Percy isn’t fear riddled and doesn’t think about the possible outcome. He manipulates, he lies, he persuades and all of this as soon as he hits twelve. But probably earlier. Pretty sure he had to become a believable lier in order to trick (survive being around) Gabe. Perseus is angry, he’s agitated. Had Riordan written Percy as a soft spoken, frightened, goody two-shoed kid, almost nothing in TLT and the follow-ups would have made sense. He’s the outcast, but slowly blossoms into the strength and muscles of the group. Of the entire camp. Someone that outsmarts opponents and wins battles. But he didn’t do that by playing nice and being a bootlicker.

TLT would’ve been a perfect standalone book that would have emphasized that Percy is an involuntary person sive) if you skip Kronos, leave a little bit foreshadowing with the prophecy out, tweak the talks with the gods and Annabeth’s first meeting and skip Luke and the scorpion at the end. The ending would’ve been “and so Percy had a first awesome summer vacation and found a group of friends for life” or so (aka PJO movie 1 in less shitty and more cohesive).

The morally gray character shrinks a little bit in the SOM because there lie straighter dangers ahead which dive more into the bigger picture and Percy grows more into the character who takes care of friends and but he does come back with TTC, and definitely BOTL and the St. Helens explosion.

Consequences of Percy’s interactions had people partially dying. There is doubt, there is guilt. But the show must go on. There are battles that have to be won. There is no big giving up, no big overturn for the bad guys.

Also... isn’t it interesting that we start with Percy saying ”look, I don’t want to be in this world“ in TLT and it ends with TLO where he says ”for once I didn’t look back“? The full circle? The way that accepting his fate took five books? To change Percy from being an involuntary participant to becoming voluntary? He didn’t want to be a half-blood, he didn’t want to be the kid in the prophecy, but he actively chose to be in the end. He went from a darker shade of gray to a mayhaps lighter, if you want to say so.

To conclude, I repeat myself again: it’s not about whether Percy is a morally gray character or not, it’s that he has to be.

Thanks for asking me about some meta stuff I really do like diving into these things here and there. Tumblr’s sorta glitchy, I do get notifications but I really don’t see asks, so I’m sorry if my response is mad late ^^

#mel answers #pjo #Percy Jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #the lightning thief #rick riordan #the last olympian

175 notes · View notes

2460nodone · 3 years

Text

Hell is a Relative Term (1/2)

Title: Hell is a Relative Term Category: Plays/Musicals » Les Misérables Author: AliceInSomewhereland Language: English, Rating: Rated: T Genre: Supernatural/Romance Published: 05-21-13, Updated: 05-22-13 Chapters: 2, Words: 9,662

[Part I] [Part II]

Summary: Eponine is one of the few who stand between humanity and hell, sworn to fight evil and protect the helpless, even if it costs her her own life. Vampire slayer!Eponine. e/e. Rated for language/content

Original author’s note: Ok guys, here we go with fic #2 for the Fic War on tumblr! This one was a prompt from tumblr user poeticbibliophile: "Modern AU prompt? One line for you, m'amie — 'Are you afraid of the good you can do?' from Les Miz, V. Hugo. Tag me if you chose this. TY!"

Part I

What if I told you the stories were true?

What if you knew that there really are things that go bump in the night? Things that live under your bed and in your closet just as much as they live in your mind, things that stalk you in the dark and prey on your terror? That all the monsters your parents ever promised you were pretend exist? That sometimes, people die, evil wins, and that the light cannot always banish your fears?

The world was hell.

There was no other way to put it.

No one really knew why these creatures existed, but they did. They ruled the night, mauling and feasting and terrorizing the population all the world over. It had always been this way; God had long ago forsaken the world and its inhabitants. Hell had swallowed Earth, and its demons walked with sorry humanity.

But there were people to fight it. Men and women, chosen for their strength, their character, their skill. They were given tasks, they learned the weaknesses of the different creatures, and eventually specialized in one specific type of Hellbeast.

"Eponine!" a voice shouted.

A young woman, olive-skinned, brown-eyed and dark-haired, stopped short, closing her eyes in trepidation before slowly turning.

"I've been looking for you everywhere," the man said sternly. He was middle-aged, with a close-cropped, graying haircut and a beard that matched. "I want you to patrol tonight."

The girl, Eponine, clenched her jaw. "I promised my brother I would be home tonight. He needs me. You have Musichetta, send her instead."

"Don't question me," he scolded. "I'm sending you."

When Eponine opened her mouth to protest, the man cut her off. "You are a vampire slayer, Jondrette. This is your job. This is your duty. You were chosen to protect the people of the world, and you will patrol tonight."

"One of those people I have to protect is my brother, Javert," she snapped. She loved the man, but he so frequently forgot that she was one of the rare slayers who had people at home to take care of. She had yet to lose everything, and she planned on keeping it that way. "I have a duty to him, too. And I promised him I would be there tonight. Send Musichetta instead."

Without waiting for his response, Eponine turned on her heel. She knew that Javert would probably punish her later for her insubordination, but she didn't care. Gavroche needed her.

Eponine was a vampire slayer. One of few slayers, in fact. Most of the women who became slayers died young.

It was not a fate she coveted.

In fact, she hated everything this life. But she had been chosen, as Javert constantly reminded her, by a power bigger than herself. And since he was her Guardian – the Guardian of all the slayers in this quadrant – and essentially her boss, it was he she answered to.

She was on the train, headed home to her brother. The dark world rushed by her, and she wondered how many vampires were out and active tonight.

She hated them with a burning passion. When they Turned, they kept their souls, but the bloodlust was so intense that they rarely heeded what little remained of their consciences. Eventually, most lost themselves in the Hunger or went insane from the guilt of what they did when their urges were unbearable. Most that she had met, however, loved killing. She had yet to meet a truly guilty vampire.

True to legend, they could not be in sunlight, and a stake to the heart or a clean swipe of the head from the shoulders would kill them immediately. Crosses, churches, hallowed ground – all unbearable to them. They couldn't even speak the name of God; that's how damned they were. They were vicious, evil creatures, and she wanted nothing more than to kill them all.

She hated being a killer, but she loved the fight, loved the moment when they lost. She would watch them victoriously, almost arrogantly, as they died in front of her. It gave her a rush, and afterwards, she would run through the streets, high on adrenaline, hungry and horny and happy.

She would find Montparnasse when she could, but otherwise she would grab a burger and indulge at least one of her urges until the high wore off and the real world crashed down on her again.

Several weeks later found Eponine back on patrol and deep in the throes of combat with a vampire. She could almost taste her victory when she felt, rather than saw, the presence of more of the loathsome bloodsuckers.

Panic bubbled up in her; she faltered and was knocked to the ground. She could feel blood trickling down from her brow, and her opponent, standing above her now, bared his teeth menacingly. She was surrounded

"Good job, little 'un," a grating woman's voice cooed.

Eponine felt her insides go cold. From her place on the ground, she stared up into the eyes of her mother.

She had hated her parents when they were alive, and had not been surprised when the police showed up one night, delivering the news of their deaths. She was, however, surprised when she saw them months later, their faces twisted as they sucked a woman dry.

But that was years ago, well before she was a slayer.

"Hello little Eponine," the creature that was once her mother sang.

Eponine pounced, fighting like a madwoman. But she was outnumbered; she only managed to slay the original vampire she was battling before she was repeatedly beat down… by her mother and her father and the rest of their gang.

Her father wrenched her head back by her hair, exposing her neck. This is it, she thought, fighting against those who were pinning her to the ground. I'm about to become another dead slayer.

The vampire broke her skin with his teeth, followed on the other side by her mother, and Eponine heard herself cry out. It all seemed to be happening from somewhere else; she knew and understood that she was dying, but she couldn't feel it, barely noticed it. Heaviness spread through her body, and her eyes began to get heavy.

Just before they closed, she became aware of a movement to her left. Her mother was ripped away from her neck.

Then everything went black.

When Eponine woke, she felt like she had been out drinking all night. Her body was heavy, her head was pounding, and she felt sick.

When her eyes adjusted to the daylight seeping in through a crack in the curtains, she looked around – turning her head slowly so as to prevent the exaggeration of her nausea and headache.

The room was simple, bare. There was some framed art on the gray walls, though her eyes were too weak to make out the pictures. A small flatscreen TV was on a small bookshelf that was packed with more books than DVDs, and even more books were piled on the dresser near the bed, as well as on the nightstand next to her. Those, she could make out: The World According to Garp, an anthology of the works of Sartre, Catch-22.

The bedspread was red, the sheets were white. Thick, black curtains were pulled together, though a ray of bright sunlight streamed through a crack.

Where was she?

Eponine wasn't sure how much time had passed, but she was several pages into The World According to Garp (whoever lived here had great taste in literature – this was one of her favorite books) before a gentle knock rapped on the door and it opened.

A man stepped in. Tall, curly blonde hair, casually dressed in dark jeans, a white v-neck t-shirt (that gave her a peek of just a little hair on his chest below a defined collarbone), and a black jacket. He was like a marble statue come to life. His eyes, she noticed, were impossibly blue, and his face was achingly handsome. A small bit of stubble covered his jaw and the top of his neck. She had no idea whatsoever who he was.

"How are you feeling?" the man asked. Eponine, in spite of herself and the weirdness of the situation, found that she liked his voice.

Instead of answering – Eponine hated answering direct questions, especially when she didn't know the inquirer – she countered, "Who the hell are you, and how did I get here?"

The man perched himself on the edge of the bed, purposefully staying as far from her as he could. Still, he smirked at her. "I saved your life last night, Slayer. You were outnumbered by the Thénardier Coven, and they would have killed you."

Eponine glared at him. "They took me by surprise," she grumbled. Then, "How did you know I'm a slayer?"

The man snorted. "You slayers wear your rank like a badge of honor. It's impossible not to know."

Eponine actually felt a little affronted, even though he had answered the question lightly.

He shrugged, apparently aware of the insult, and added, "Plus I was watching you."

"What?" she asked, dumfounded and staring at him.

The man grinned again. "I was following the Thénardier Coven, and so were you. You fell for their bait, you know. They were planning to ambush you. You should be more careful," he admonished.

Eponine raised her chin indignantly, but said nothing.

"Yeah, you would've died if it weren't for me," he continued.

He was actually fishing for a thank you. She couldn't believe it.

"Slayers are only women," she pointed out, ignoring his comment.

He ignored hers as well. "You're sleeping in my bed, you know. I saved your life, brought you back here at my own personal risk, nursed your wounds. A 'thank you' wouldn't be unwelcome," he said pointedly. It angered her that he seemed to find all of this so humorous.

She sniffed, realizing that he wouldn't talk about anything else unless she voiced her gratitude. "Thank you," she said tightly.

He smiled. Dear god that was a beautiful smile. "Why, you're welcome," he deadpanned.

"Now, who are you? Where am I?" she asked impatiently.

The man frowned. "You may stay as long as you need. At least, until you are well enough to make it home. Get some rest, and I'll bring you some food. You need your strength," he said, ignoring her questions. He stood, reaching the door in two short strides.

"Why won't you answer me?" she asked, before he could take his leave.

He stopped, hand on the doorknob, the door partially open. Then he shrugged, turning back towards her and seriously replying, "This is the last time you'll ever see me, so it doesn't matter." Then he was gone.

Montparnasse was a vampire.

What was worse, he now belonged to the Thénardier Coven. They were the most violent of the covens in this part of the world, and the most deadly. But also one of the biggest.

Javert had lost many a slayer trying to eradicate their ranks, their power.

Eponine was determined not to become one of them. Especially since she was the human daughter of the clan leaders.

But Montparnasse had been her last friend from her old life. He was in love with her, as a human, but he knew she was uninterested in him, even before she had become a slayer. Still, he had let her use him (not that he didn't console himself with some on the side, anyway – he was no virtuous man).

She felt guilty about how she had treated him now, though. He hadn't deserved to be used for sex. He was a good looking guy, and could've found someone who might have loved him back, even if he had some issues with alcohol and was kind of a klepto.

Eponine found that she was crying as she drove the stake into his heart. She hadn't noticed during their fight, as she was far too entranced by their dance to the death. But she would not lose.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to him as he died.

This time, she felt neither hungry nor happy, and definitely was not horny.

It was Montparnasse that she had gone to for that reason. And here she was, responsible for his death, in so many more ways than just this one.

When she looked up, tears flowing freely from her eyes, she thought she saw a flash of blue eyes and blonde hair disappearing into the shadows, but she couldn't be sure.

Marius, Azelma, and Gavroche were the only good things in her life anymore.

She had met Marius not long after becoming a slayer, and had fallen in love with him almost immediately. Sometimes when she had gone to Montparnasse, it was because she wanted Marius, and she could close her eyes with the other man and pretend that he loved her too.

The thought caused a wave of guilt to flow through her body. The hurt of Montparnasse's death (by her hand) was still very close.

Marius was kind to her, though. He was a sweetheart, always stopping to chat and inquire after her and her sister and brother, always ensuring that she was uninjured and being safe on her patrols.

She hoped that he might someday fall for her too. Eponine felt less damaged and depressed and hopeless around him. Perhaps he would even be willing to put up with the uncertainty of her life, her future, for a few passionate years by her side.

But one evening he ran up to her, more excited and worked up than she had ever before seen him.

"'Ponine! Oh, 'Ponine, I've fallen in love," he told her dreamily, taking her hands in his and spinning her gaily.

For a fleeting moment, Eponine thought her meant her.

"She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Her hair is long and so blonde, her eyes are beautiful, and my god she probably has a wonderful soul to match."

Eponine gave him a strained smile.

"Can you find her for me, 'Ponine? You know your way around, and you're good at finding people."

Before she could stop herself, Eponine heard herself agreeing to help him.

She found the blonde beauty, all right.

Her name was Cosette.

She was the daughter of Jean Valjean.

Jean Valjean was the patriarch of the Fauchelevent Coven.

That idiot Marius had gone and fallen for a vampire.

Jealousy and contempt bubbled up inside of Eponine. She didn't know what to do with herself. Or with Marius. And when she had told him what she had learned, he had dismissed it.

"Not all vampires are bad, 'Ponine," he insisted. Eponine wanted to punch him for his stupidity. He might as well have been suggesting that he take a leisurely swim in the ocean in the middle of a hurricane. "She's a good one, I just know it. Besides, the Fauchelevent Coven has always been fairly peaceful. They don't attack humans, not like the Thénardier Coven or the Tholomyes Coven or the others."

Eponine stormed out, going on a hunt.

She would kill something tonight. She could only hope that it was a vampire, not that idiot, love struck boy she had left in the bar.

A few hours later, Eponine was on her third kill (she had been on the offensive tonight, though it wasn't strictly protocol to hunt alone and without a secure plan that Javert knew).

That's when she saw him.

When the vampire woman was dead, Eponine spun on her heal, flicking her sweaty hair out of her eyes.

"Why are you following me?" she demanded.

The blonde man regarded her seriously. "You seem angrier tonight than usual."

Her eyes narrowed. "Are you stalking me?"

He gave this some consideration, before replying, "More like ensuring that you don't get yourself into any sticky situations again."

She took an involuntary step closer. His eyes were so blue. "Why?"

He shrugged. "You're not like the other slayers."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

He thought for a moment. "They're all driven by something. You just go through the motions, but you're so talented. What's keeping you from rising to your full potential? You could be the best slayer alive, if you wanted. You could eradicate the entire Bloodluster population if only you tried."

Eponine regarded him incredulously. "I don't even know you, I'm not talking to you about my reasons for slaying!"

He was watching her closely, looking for something in his face. "Are you afraid of the good you can do?"

Her face darkened. "Look, bro, my reasons for slaying are my own, and are certainly none of your business. And, I will have you know, I'm not afraid of anything."

"Whatever you say," he scoffed.

Eponine shoved him back angrily; he grinned, lazily taking a step back to keep his balance. It only pissed her off more.

"You're intriguing, little slayer," he said, quirking a half-smile at her.

Without missing a beat, she replied, "And you're an annoying jackass, mystery asshole."

He laughed at that.

Eponine still did not know his name, but she began to enjoy his somewhat constant presence when she patrolled. Somehow, he always seemed to pop up in time to see her fight, and ended up staying with her until her patrol was finished just before dawn. Then they would go their separate ways.

"Don't you ever sleep?" she asked as they walked slowly together through the empty streets. No one was ever out at this time of night except for the slayers or the occasional other fighter. She often wondered what his specialty was.

"Don't you?" he countered.

Somehow he always kept things balanced between them. She wasn't sure whether he answered her questions with questions of his own because that's what she did or because he wanted to maintain a certain balance between them. She was fine with boundaries, but the more time she spent with him, the more curious she became. She liked this marble man, this beautiful boy that seemed to gleam with the light of the sun even at night. She wanted to be his friend. She enjoyed hearing about his true friends, the ones that knew him as more than the Marble Man, and she found relief in telling him about her own fucked up life.

Rather than taunting her by knowing her name (which she had never actually told him) while she did not know his, he mostly referred to her as "Slayer" or "Little Slayer." She couldn't decide whether the whole thing was creepy and whether or not she liked his nicknames, nor could she decide if, when he did call her by her name, the shiver that went down her spine was because it sounded so foreign on his tongue or if it was because she liked hearing her name on his lips.

They had become friends, somehow. She wasn't sure what exactly had happened, but she truly did appreciate that he had saved her life, and he hadn't left her alone since, for whatever reason, and she had grown to like his company.

He was driven. He talked a lot about his dreams of helping the people, saving them from these circumstances, finding a way to eradicate the violent covens and hopefully rehabilitate the rest.

Eponine was less in favor of rehabilitation, but her Marble Man insisted that not all covens were violent like Thénardier. He told her frequently that she was blinded by her hate for her parents and what they had become. When he said this, she told him to fuck off and mind his business, usually storming off and leaving him behind. And he usually let her go.

It irritated her to no end that he knew her so well – seemingly without even trying – when she knew nothing about him. Was she that easy to read? He always seemed to guess her emotions – which she had spent so many years learning to hide – without any effort at all. He was always telling her about her potential, about how her circumstances could improve if she only tried a bit harder. He knew her name, he knew her story, but she knew nothing about him. Not even his name.

So one night, she asked him. They had been friends now for a few months. He had watched her fight, had even stepped in a few times when she got a little too close to death for his comfort (though she loved the rush that just escaping death gave her).

"What's your name? You know so much about me, but I know nothing about you."

He was silent for a long moment, and Eponine was fully expecting him to change the subject or stay quiet until she felt humiliated enough by her prying to change it herself, just as he always did. But tonight:

"I'm Enjolras," he told her quietly.

She froze in shock, unable to keep walking. He had actually told her. Her Marble Man had a name, and he had finally given it to her.

After a tense moment, in which she stared at him with an unattractively open mouth and he stared back with trepidation and dark eyes, he stepped up to her. She couldn't read his face as he searched hers, slipping his hand into her own.

Eponine wasn't sure what he found in her face, but he must have been satisfied because he was suddenly turning away, tugging on her hand to pull her with him so they could resume their walk.

But she didn't move. Instead, she tested his name, whispering it into the slight wind. "Enjolras…."

He immediately turned when she said his name, cupping the side of her face with his hands and bringing his lips urgently to hers.

Eponine was waiting for him; her lips parted almost immediately against his, her arms wrapped around his neck, and she pressed herself into him just as he pulled her closer with his free arm.

Enjolras deepened the kiss, meeting the tongue that had only moments ago held his name so tenderly. She shivered as his hand traveled down her rocky spine to rest at the slight valley that had formed at the small of her back.

He kissed her passionately, and she rose to meet the challenge, just as she did with her slaying. His kisses moved from her lips to her jaw, to her neck, to her collarbone. His hand preceded the actions of his lips, tracing their route before he made it. Now, his fingertips traveled down her chest, lips following as he unzipped the jacket she was wearing to reveal her cleavage.

Her hands were entwined in his hair and god she had forgotten how good this felt, and his fingertips and lips and tongue had just reached the top of her breasts when he cried out in pain, leaping away from her.

Eponine stared as a bit of smoke rose from his fingers, as though he had been on fire. He was staring at her with a torn, almost heartbroken, and pained expression.

She knew that she was staring back in horror. Her hand found the pendant buried in her cleavage – a silver cross. It was meant to protect her from her foe.

Anger like she had never before felt suddenly overtook her and she wanted nothing more than to kill him where he stood.

He just continued to stare.

"You're a fucking vampire!" she screamed at him. She could hear the hurt and anger and fear in her voice. What had she done?

"Eponine–."

"No!" she snapped, cutting him off. The way he had implored her with her name – without even needing to say anything else – had twisted her heart in her chest. "If you ever fucking come near me again I will stake you through the heart, and cut your head off, and cause you a lot of fucking pain as I do it!"

Enjolras listened to her scream, holding his burned hand in the palm of his uninjured one. Staring at her with almost heartbroken eyes.

Then he was gone.

#enjonine #enjonine fanfic #enjonine fanfiction #enjonine fic #eponine x enjolras #enjolras x eponine #e/e #é/e

4 notes · View notes

queenangst · 4 years

Note

1/? Hey Annie. You don't know me, but I just wanna say that finding you and your writing was a huge turning point for me. Before I found you, I never really followed any writers outside of ao3. You were the first writer I wanted to know more about. I fell in love with your writing, and when I saw you had a Tumblr, I followed you. It was a slow process for me, but following you opened me up a lot more to the fandom. You made me realize that creators aren't these unreachable entities.

They're people just like me. I started interacting with you through anon asks. I joined your discord (but I lurk alsjdlahd). I started following a lot more creators and interacting with them as well. My comments on ao3 hold a lot more meaning for me now because I'm more connected with the authors. I've been having a lot of fun. I even wrote my first fanfic. And it's all been because of you. I mean it when I say you're a huge inspiration to me.

I read your writing and sometimes I just have to stop and marvel at it. I remember a few(?) months back you posted a fic snippet on your Tumblr, but not on ao3. (Although you recently posted it as ch 4 of angst assortment). Anyway, I remember reading it and genuinely just wondering how anyone can write so well. It's funny too because I remember reaching the end of it, and seeing your tags say that you weren't really vibing with it. And I was like WHAT she didn't vibe with it!?

This was so GOOD!! THIS: "Fear deals him a blow to his gut, followed by a real fist" AND THIS: "Hizashi’s name fills the curve of his mouth" These are literally only three paragraphs in and they made me stop because, wow, what a beautiful way to phrase what could otherwise be mundane. You could've said like "Aizawa called Hizashi's name" or something but NO, HIS NAME FILLED THE CURVE OF HIS MOUTH I--- I loved this.

Idk if these are the best examples to show what I'm trying to say, but you have a way of writing that's just so... poetic. And I remember thinking that I would've missed that gem if I hadn't followed you on Tumblr. Listen, I know I've rambled, and you don't have to answer this ask cuz I know it's long as hell. I just wanted you to see this so I could say thank you. Thank you for writing. Thank you for sharing. And I can't thank you enough for inspiring me to write.

It's something I've always thought about doing but you were the one who gave me the courage to finally do it. And it's crazy that you're not even aware of the impact you had on me. I understand that sometimes it might feel like your work isn't reaching people. But it is. It's reaching. And it's changing people. And I'm so grateful for your writing, and just as importantly, for you. For your kindness and your humor, and every other part of you that you share with us. Thank you, Annie.

i- okay there’s- it’s a lot. in a good way but this is a lot and i’m sorry i couldn’t get back earlier but every time i looked at it i pretty much started crying so i’m trying to put together a coherent response now.

nonnie, first of all- thank you. thank you thank you thank you, because this is something i really, really needed to hear someone tell me.

i think it’s very easy for me as a person and as a creator to look at the things i’m making and to put them up and feel like i’m shouting into a void. i think it’s very difficult for me to understand how much i’m reaching people, the ways i could impact even one person. partly because i don’t see it. partly because i don’t let myself, because i can’t imagine that i could really reach anyone, putting pieces of me out there and thinking no one could ever feel my work as deeply as i do. or as much.

and i will never really understand. i can only ever view my work as myself, as a creator, and i can never experience my work for the first time the way my audience does.

it’s so hard for me to conceptualize, especially on the internet, that there are real people who are reading my fics and real people who love them and enjoy them and laugh and cry and wonder.

everything you’re saying, everything you’re telling me - it’s bridging a gap. i think. i didn’t know you engaged with me and my work that way. i didn’t know someone could do that. i didn’t know i could do that. and it is extremely humbling and heartfelt, and it makes me so incredibly touched that i can reach you, and inspire you. a lot of times, esp with social media, it can feel like we’re all passing trains catching each other through the windows, and you might never meet or never interact beyond a certain point, and behind those windows are very real people who have thoughts and emotions. we see each other for a second but it could be a second that changes... a lot.

i create and i create and i create and i never stop and i’m always waiting and wondering and asking myself. sometimes i need that reminder too. thank you for that. thank you for telling me. thank you for taking the time out of your day to send me these asks, to express to me what you feel, what connection we have because it really really means a lot. more than you know. i’ve been struggling a lot, especially very recently, with this idea, and wrapping myself in my work.

and i have a specific way of writing, too. a style i’ve developed that’s become mine, but like i said - i don’t experience it the same way. when i write about a name filling the curve of a mouth it is just something i’ve written, a way i have learned to describe things. but you sharing that made me stop for a moment and think that those things that i have gotten used to can be beautiful to other people who are reading them.

i hope you are doing well. i hope you are reading this. and i hope you know that by sending me this you got a message across that was both wonderful and unimaginable for me to hear.

please don’t stop making things. you’re doing great, and i’m very proud of you for that. please continue to use fandom as a place of happiness. please continue to reach out to creators, to the people who inspire you - because you reached me, you’re reaching me, and it was something i needed deeply and desperately. i’ve been crying the entire time writing this response.

thank you. if there’s anything i can get across - thank you. thank you.

#when i say i needed this i really really meant it #i havent stopped crying after reading this and writing the response so im.#asks #reminders #save #yeah. yeah.#anonymous #long post

44 notes · View notes

scgdoeswhat · 5 years

Text

A Very Penderghast Halloween – Beckett x Clarette

Summary: The Penderghast gang celebrate Halloween.

Rating: NSFW

Words: 5541

Author’s Notes: Happy Halloween!! I had this idea pop up into my head a few weeks ago to celebrate Halloween with my favorite magickal crew! I didn’t expect it to grow into a behemoth, but here we are. Thanks to @hellomynameisdevi @brightpinkpeppercorn for the early help, and I’m also going to submit this for @skyecrandall Choices Horrorween Week!

Hope you all enjoy! Beckett doesn’t belong to me (unfortunately), but the story does. No Beta used.

Sorry if the “Read More” link isn’t working. It’s Tumblr’s fault, not mine!

Tag list: @xo-endlessmayhem-xo @grungeisntmything @friendlylilshipper @felmasri @numberonepoetryexpert @hellomynameisdevi @beckettbaguette @siegrrun @choicesthatplayyou @retroangxl @askdana @50shadesofraleigh @darley1101 @kamybelen-blog @herdecisions @artchoicesreblog @teenytinymagician @choicesfannatalie @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @abigailpoe @flyawayboo @brightpinkpeppercorn @gardeningourmet @harringtons-honey @manateemilk @queenodysseia @thatcatlady0716 @divergentofhogwarts @pottershat @topsyturvy-dream @choicesyouplayandmore @zeniamiii @never-neverland @drakewalkerfantasy @syltti78 @elementalistshoe @maxwellsquidsuit @sleepingpillcorporation @tabithacarlisle @ludextruction @pbmychoices @wickedgypsymoon @mistychoices @izzycheeese @lady-kato @fluffy-marshmallow-heart @flynnomalleys @walkerismychoice @thefirstcourtesan @drakesensworld @laceandlula @rhymesmenagerie @shainaa00 @princessstellaris @itsbrindleybinch @donutsgirl36 @liamzigmichael4ever @mckenzie-powell @sunflowergirl05 @justendlesssummerfeels @friedherringclodthing @choicesarehard @desiree-0816 @elanorwaverley @aworldoffandoms @mrsbriarmarlcaster @star-adorned @wiselight @cloacasexual

Please let me know if you want to be tagged/removed on future fics and I’ll tag anyone I may have missed in the comments. Thank you!

Clarette stood in front of the full-length mirror in her room, putting the finishing touches on her first Halloween costume in three years. She ran a hand down the front of the deep red corset, smiling at how the tight fit pushed up and emphasized her bosom. Turning sideways, she smoothed out the lace overlay over the black tulle miniskirt, the fabric bouncing back to its natural shape after she finished touching it. She threw the high collared, black, satin minicape over her shoulders, fastening the button around her neck before slipping on a pair of matching elbow length gloves to complete her look. Stepping into her black heels, she walked out into the living area of the suite where Atlas was hanging out and Shreya was waiting for her.

Her twin sister glanced at her, peering over the magazine she was reading and raised a skeptical eyebrow at Clarette’s outfit. “You look like a vampire-brothel-hooker all smashed into one.”

Clarette laughed on her way to the kitchenette, throwing a wadded-up paper towel at Atlas. “Well, if that’s the case, then Beckett will be my lucky customer later!”

Atlas groaned in repulsion, her face disappearing behind the page. “I really hate you sometimes, you know that?”

Shreya snorted in amusement at the siblings’ banter while she looked at her reflection in the mirror, touching up her black lipstick to complete her short and skintight sexy witch costume. “You two make me glad that my sister is younger than me. I could never imagine having any type of sex conversation with her,” she said, shaking her head in dismay. “I will say that this is fun to dress up for your Attuneless holiday, Clarette. Believe it or not, what I’m wearing is tame compared to what I’ve seen some sorceresses wear.” She looked over at her roommates’ outfit and busted out into a fit of laughter. “If Priya saw your outfit, I don’t know if she’d be flattered or embarrassed by your interpretation of what a vampire is.”

Clarette stopped in her tracks. “Whoa, wait. Priya LaCroix? As in the fashion designer? She’s a vampire? Vampires are real???”

Shreya nodded, gently patting her on the head. “I forget you didn’t grow up in this world, but yes, yes, and yes.”

The dark-haired twin stood in shock at her newfound knowledge. “I swear, I’m always learning new things around here.”

“Are you serious? Out of everything we’ve been through the last two years and it’s vampires existing that throws you for a loop?” Atlas chortled.

Clarette shrugged, a broad grin on her face. “I only know the bad vampire stereotypes, like this one!” She ran over to Atlas, and in a bad accent that sounded like the Count from Sesame Street, she yelled out “I want to suck your blood!” while tickling her.

Atlas screamed at the tickle attack. “You ass! You know I hate being tickled!” She cried out before shooing her sister away.

Cackling, Clarette got up and straightened her top out before she had a wardrobe malfunction. “I promise, no more tickling for the rest of the night. But seriously, are you sure you don’t want to come tonight? Please?” She affixed the puppy dog eyes on her sister with one last plea.

The light-haired twin rolled her eyes in response. “You know that face doesn’t work on me. Do I look like Beckett to you? And nah, thanks. I’m good. I’ve had my share of roughing it out in the woods, at night, with demons and crazy psychopaths after me to last me a lifetime. You guys have fun in the forest and whatever.”

The doorbell rang at that moment, signaling the arrival of the rest of Motley Crue. Clarette and Shreya made their way to the door, opening it to their group of friends.

“By the way, if it wasn’t obvious, you two look absolutely absurd,” Atlas continued, “at least the others had enough sense not to dress-“ she looked up and stopped midsentence, where she was greeted with the sight of Zeph dressed up in a skeleton costume complete with face paint while Aster donned a headpiece resembling a unicorn. “At least Griff and Harrington had enough sense not to dress up,” she rectified her statement.

Griffin stood in the doorway with a full bag of mixed elixir in hand, laughing at Atlas’ unimpressed expression. “I would’ve dressed up if I knew everyone else was going to!”

Beckett scoffed. “You couldn’t pay me to dress up.”

Clarette pranced over to her boyfriend, noticing Beckett’s eyes darken as he took in her entire costume. “I’m sure I could convince you otherwise,” she replied, a sly grin on her face. “Besides I know what you could dress up as. You could be the police!”

He raised an eyebrow at her suggestion. “And why, may I ask?”

“Because sometimes you’re the fun police!” A mixture of groans and laughter were heard at her bad joke while they all waved ‘bye’ to Atlas. Clarette giggled, bounding out the door and down the long corridor, leading Beckett by the hand while the others followed their path.

The evening sky was the deepest shade of midnight and the moon was hidden behind the cover of clouds as the six of them made their way through the Penderghast campus. They continued walking into the woods beyond the lake, the lights of the university dimming behind them with every foot before being swallowed by the foliage.

Clarette bounced excitedly with each step, wanting to savor her first real Halloween since being introduced into her current magickal world. The last two years had comprised of shadow monsters, maniacal Blood Atts, and power-hungry Sources, all of which diminished any desire to celebrate one of her favorite times of the year.

This year was different. With no threats on the horizon, she decided they would all be celebrating spooky season with her. She took solace in now knowing who she was and where she came from, which gave her the security to enjoy the festivities. The last time she felt so carefree was when she was a child, and Halloween had no pretense; it was only about how many treats she could fill in her goody bag.

Moving to a new area for high school had given her a different reason to enjoy Halloween, when she embraced the dressing up aspect the most. In a smaller city where she was one of the few minorities and the only Asian American girl in school, she relished the opportunity to be someone else for one day. She found she was comfortable dressing up in any manner she wanted, and that usually equated to a getup that conformed with her party girl label.

As Clarette thought about ideas for her costume this year, she knew it was going to be one of those stereotypical sexy outfits, but she felt assured about making her decision. The difference between dressing up in a sexy costume now and a few years prior? Her actions were now on her terms and she was finally comfortable in her own skin. She was dressing up for herself and not to fit in.

Over the last two years, she had regaled the group with stories about Halloween, from urban legends and folklore to the revelries in the Attuneless world such as haunted houses, mazes, and hayrides designed to scare people. Convincing Shreya was easy; she didn’t need to be asked twice to be her partner in crime in dressing up and looking good while doing it. Griffin, Zeph, and Aster were always down for some hijinks, and surprisingly Beckett didn’t try to make a logical argument to get out of it. Only Atlas rejected to partake in it, citing her very valid reasons of already living through enough nightmares.

Griffin led the way through the brush, smoothing out the path to make sure the girls of the group wouldn’t trip over any loose rocks. “So Clarette, what are we doing? You didn’t exactly lay out the plan.”

“I don’t really have one. I was thinking about lighting a bonfire, telling some scary stories while we drink, pretend to do a séance…. I don’t know, whatever comes to mind, I guess.”

“A séance? Are you sure this is a good idea?” Zeph asked with hesitation. “My abuela always said you don’t mess with these types of things, especially since the veil is the thinnest this time of year.”

Shreya scoffed while adjusting the sparkly witch hat she wore on her head. “It’s not like we’re actually summoning anything. Besides, Clarette already talked to a dead Dread last year and nothing else came from it.”

Clarette shivered at the mention of Raife, memories of her and Atlas destroying his corrupted essence doing little to soothe her mind.

Beckett wrapped his arm around her, noticing her shiver. “Are you alright?”

“Just a little draft, nothing more,” she fibbed, not wanting to worry him about the thoughts in her mind.

The evening had started innocently enough, with the bottles of elixir being poured and stories being told from the Attuned side of things. They all shared stories of how ‘The Dread’ was used as a bogeyman in their different upbringings, all of which were terrifying in their own right. Silence reigned after the last tale was told and they all took a sip of their drinks, the silence enhanced with the effects of their beverages.

Zeph turned his head to the right, on alert. “Did anyone else hear that?” His eyes flickered across the group.

“I didn’t hear anything,” Clarette answered. “Come on, Zeph, stop trying to scare us.”

A distant rustle echoed through the night.

“I heard that,” Griffin interjected as he stood up and dusted his pants off. “Zeph, come on, let’s check it out.”

Zeph grimaced, steeling himself. “Fine. But if I die out there, it’s on you.” He got up and joined Griffin past the shrubbery.

The other four looked at each other with uneasy glances as the minutes ticked by.

“Yeah, this isn’t creepy, at all,” Clarette commented, snuggling more so into Beckett’s side.

A moment later, the flames extinguished, leaving them in complete darkness.

“Very funny, Shreya,” Beckett remarked. “Would you please turn the fire back on?”

Shreya looked at him with her mouth agape at the accusation. “I didn’t do that, Beckett.” She snapped her fingers to reignite it, but nothing happened.

The branches where Griffin and Zeph walked into shook, the disturbance causing them to jump at the sound.

“And very funny, you two!” Clarette hollered towards the direction of the bushes. “You can stop with the cheap scare tactics already!”

Aster branched out, the shadow lingering on her face. “It is not them.”

“What do you mean it isn’t-“ Before Shreya could finish her sentence, the undergrowth parted, a giant shadow monster appearing before them.

“Holy shit!” Clarette jumped up and ripped off her gloves, blasting the apparition with her Sun magick. The beam that came from her hand went straight through and did not cause any damage, to her disbelief. “It didn’t do anything!”

“Clarette, go!” Beckett stepped in front of her, shielding her from the monster. “Aster, make sure she stays safe!”

Aster nodded, grabbing Clarette’s arm. “Come on, I know a safe place!”

“I’m not leaving you, Beckett! I can help!” She tried wriggling out of Aster’s unhuman, strong grip, to no avail.

Beckett took a few steps towards Clarette, never turning his back on the monster. “I told you before, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, my love, and I never break my word.” He kissed her hard, channeling his feelings into the singular action. “Just remember, I love you.”

Before Clarette could respond, Aster dragged her further into the forest, the trees camouflaging their retreat.

Clarette ran through the trees, complete darkness engulfing her surroundings. She wasn’t sure if she could hear a faint laughter echo through the expanse of thicket, but she knew there was no way she would stay in one place to find out. Her pulse raced in her ear and her lungs burned as she weaved through the cover of the forest, her survival instincts kicking in.

"Don't turn around. Don't stop now. And whatever you do, don't turn around." The thought repeated itself in her mind. She had watched enough horror flicks in her days to know one of the rules of survival.

How could a shadow monster be chasing her? They had eliminated the different threats over the course of their Penderghast careers, including those using essences to create corrupt forms. She frowned at the memory of her attack going right through the monster’s center, its red eyes and sadistic grin smiling at her inability to vanquish it.

It turned out Atlas was the smart one that evening, opting to stay back on campus instead of joining the Crue in the woods. Their evening was supposed to be full of harmless fun and Halloween shenanigans.

Or they were supposed to be shenanigans, until that fire went out without explanation and the giant shadow monster appeared through the trees. It seemed to laugh at her with glowing, red eyes and the sinister smile on its warped mouth, its intent bent on destroying everything in their path.

The monster must have taken both Griff and Zeph down quickly, as the rest of them didn’t even hear anything from where they had disappeared. There was no scream to signal trouble, and the only shout she heard was from Shreya. Her shrill shriek rang through the woods until it was cut off with a stomach dropping abruptness.

Clarette’s mind raced with thoughts of what happened to her friends, her brows furrowing when she thought of Beckett. She should never have left him, despite his urging and insistence. She and Aster were nearly a Thief-field length away when she heard his voice ringing through the foliage, telling the monster to stay away from her. Clarette had stopped in her tracks, ready to turn back when she thought she heard him scream, only for the forest to stifle any identifiable sounds.

She shook her head to clear her mind. The current circumstances gave her no time to think and instead, she concentrated on winding in and out of the hedges and trees. Now it was just her and Aster, thanks to Aster's abilities to navigate the forest where she grew up.

"Clarette!" Aster huffed through exertion, the flowers in her hair downcast and sodden. "The trees are telling me there should be a cabin 50 feet that way. You should go there while I go for help!"

Clarette stopped in her tracks, giving Aster an incredulous look. "You want me to go to a cabin, in the woods, in the middle of the night??? I am not going to die like some cliché, slasher movie!"

Aster frowned, the reference going over her head. "Movies can cut you in the Attuneless world? I have to remember this for later! But in the meantime, I'll go track down Atlas and the shadow monster won't get me because I know these woods like the back of my hand! The cabin should be over there!" She ran off in the opposite direction, leaving before Clarette could get a final word in. “I’ll be back!”

"Shit!" Clarette whispered to herself, knowing that anyone who ever says “I’ll be back” never returns according to the rules of horror films. Looking around after taking a steadying breath, there was no sign of the shadow monster and she quietly made her way through the trees. The 50 feet she crept through felt like a mile, but Aster was right; there stood an abandoned cabin in the middle of the woods.

"This is what I get for watching all those Freddy Krueger - Scream - Friday the 13th movies when I was in high school," she grimaced as she approached the solid oak door, trying to peek through the tinted window. "No, this isn't scary at all."

Opening the door, her eyes widened as a feeling of astonishment overtook her. The darkened interior of the cabin was illuminated softly by elegant, taper candles in metal, gothic candelabras while the glow of strategically placed jack-o-lanterns added to the ambience. The hazy flame from the fireplace cast a warm light over the entire room, highlighting the black, satin sheets that adorned the bed against the far wall.

In the middle of the room stood one Beckett Harrington, a proud smile on his face after having everything go according to plan for the evening. He held his arms out wide, showcasing the result. “Surprise! I know you love Halloween, so I wanted to give you one to remember.”

Her shock quickly dissolved into anger as she marched over to him, pushing his shoulder hard and backing him against the wall next to the bed. "You ass! I can't believe you made me think you were hurt and then you made me run through the woods thinking everyone else was hurt!"

Beckett rubbed the back of his neck as he watched his idea blow up spectacularly in his face. "I thought you would appreciate the Halloween scare since you've been so excited the entire month. Between you regaling us about your Tuneless traditions of going to haunted houses and watching scary movies with me, I just wanted to bring a little piece of that to you because you've missed it."

Her face softened at how much thought and planning he had undertaken to pull this off, though her arms remained crossed. "Well, the haunted houses I used to go to weren't real because they're played by actors and I love watching scary movies with you because I get to snuggle and bury my head into you when it gets too much. It's all make-believe!" Before she continued her tirade, a light bulb went off in her head. "Wait. Does this mean everyone was in on it?”

Beckett nodded. "Indeed. I asked for their help to execute everything. Shreya extinguished the fire with no effort after Griff and Zeph’s cue of disappearing.”

"What was Atlas' role in all this? Summoning the shadow monster?"

Beckett chuckled, his cheeks red. He remembered the day he went to Atlas for help in pulling this off and while she initially refused, she had relented in the end.

“Hey, Harrington,” Atlas paused after helping him with the illusion, “you really love my sister, don’t you.”

Beckett flushed. No one had asked him about their relationship point blank after he and Clarette had exchanged ‘I love yous.’ Looking at Atlas, he replied in a confident tone, “I do. I love her very much.”

A wry smile crossed her face. “I know. Just making sure.”

She made him swear to not tell a soul she helped him with this, knowing that her sister would never let her live it down.

"Griff and Zeph helped with the illusion of the shadow monster. Atlas had absolutely no part to play in this. When she heard the beginning of my plan, she held her hand up and said 'no' outright. She wanted no part of 'whatever freaky sex thing' I had in mind, even though it hadn't even crossed my mind."

“I don't know if I should punch you or kiss you," Clarette laughed, none the wiser to his masterplan.

“I definitely think I should be rewarded with the latter, but I may be slightly biased,” he beamed.

She closed the distance between them, placing her arms on his shoulders as she brought him down for a slow kiss. "Well, now that your plan has been executed, did any 'freaky sex thing' cross your mind?"

"I don't know if it would be considered freaky, but you already know I think about you quite frequently in that way."

Clarette gleamed at him, her eyes shining in the dim light as she comprehended in full how much preparation was needed for him to pull the entire evening off. “I can’t believe you really did this all for me.”

“You know I would do anything for you,” he replied as a tender look fell on his face.

“As twisted as your plan tonight was, I do know that.” Her fingers trailed down the lapel of his blazer as an idea of her own entered her mind. “Hmmm, you know, I don't think I ever told you what the best part of Halloween is."

He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close. "Oh, and what's that? I thought you said the best part was dressing up?"

She brought him down for a kiss, their mouths moving against each other in hypnotizing fashion. His tongue teased her bottom lip, asking for entrance and she moaned in acceptance, their tongues dancing with the deepened kiss. His hands roved down past her short skirt to her ass, squeezing it and bringing her closer to his frame. She gasped as she felt his erection pressing against her lower abdomen, his hardness causing desire to shoot through her veins. They broke apart after a few minutes, both feeling dizzy and lightheaded from their kisses.

"The best part of Halloween," she purred, while starting to unbutton his shirt, "is definitely the treat. After everything you put me through tonight, I deserve something tasty to put in my mouth, don't you think?” She planted kisses on his now bare chest, her fingers tracing down his torso before landing on the front of his pants, grasping his arousal through his trousers.

A strangled sound came from Beckett's throat, his voice shaky with each squeeze of her hand. "Yes, oh - you definitely deserve something tasty as a treat," he managed to get out with difficulty.

Clarette unbuckled his belt, undoing the button and sliding the zipper down with care, all the while kissing a path down his stomach. His muscles flexed involuntarily when she trailed the outline of his abs with her nails and flicked her tongue against the flat plane of his lower abdomen. His pants hit the floor and he groaned after she kissed him through his underwear, her face rubbing against his prominent bulge through the black fabric.

Standing up straight for a moment, she unfastened her cape, dropping it to the floor in between them. His gaze went down to her chest, her breasts inviting his touch. His hands roamed up the corset before caressing the swell above the garment with his thumbs, the soft skin smooth to his fingertips. He bent over to kiss her again as her hand cupped him through his underwear, and once again she placed kisses down his body.

Her knees came to rest on the soft fabric of the cape she had dropped, and she looked up at him through thick lashes, the glint in her eye causing him to bite his lip in anticipation. Seeing her in this position was one of his favorite things in the entire universe.

She lowered his boxer briefs in an unhurried manner, licking her lips as his glorious cock sprang free from its constraints. His hand found its way to the back of her head, tangling in her luscious, raven locks as he guided her mouth to him.

"My, someone's eager," Clarette chuckled as she wrapped one hand around his dick, licking the underside of his shaft from base to tip. His jaw hung agape as he let out a sharp breath with the sensation of her tongue on his taut flesh. Stroking his length, she wet her lips before placing a kiss on his velvet tip, their eyes locking as he was met with a seductive smile.

Beckett watched in awe as she twirled her tongue around his tip slowly, before taking him in and sucking on his head. She bobbed back and forth with a gradual pace, her hand working over his impressive length before releasing him with a pop from her mouth. Gripping his cock in her hand, she opened her mouth and slapped him against her flattened tongue, the move eliciting a groan from him as she then licked the precum off him.

Once again, he found himself past her lips, her fingers wrapping tightly around him while moving up and down in tandem over his hardness. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall, enjoying the attention his girlfriend was slathering upon him, his other senses heightened with pleasure at the sound and feel of her mouth around him. His eyes opened when he felt her warmth leave him, and he looked down to see the marvelous sight of her licking his tight balls. He groaned as she sucked on one, followed by the other, her hand never stopping the rhythm on his erection.

Beckett’s eyes were glazed with desire as she returned to sucking his cock, her tempo picking up with each twist of her hand. He couldn’t help himself as his other hand entangled itself in her hair, giving him a firm grip on her head. He started thrusting into her mouth, stretching her out with his thickness, filling her with more of him after each buck of his hips. Her hands left his cock, sliding around to grab his ass as he took total control. Fucking her pretty, little mouth, he came hard as he hit the back of her throat, a deep moan accompanying his release.

Clarette swallowed his entire load, gasping for air after he pulled out, her lips swollen and mouth raw. This was rougher than what she was used to with him, but the truth was that she loved it. Beckett was usually so in control and the knowledge that she could make him lose it excited her greatly, if the wetness between her legs was any indication.

He helped her to a standing position and held her against him, wrapping both arms around her while kissing the top of her head. “Clarette, you’re magnificent,” he whispered as he cupped her jaw and kissed her gently.

She returned the kiss with fire, whimpering into his mouth as his hands wandered up her skirt and rubbed her through her soaked panties. “God, Beckett, I want you so bad,” she murmured against his lips. Taking his hands in hers, she led them towards the bed, her pupils dilated with need. She looked up at him with a hazy look, her tongue darting out to wet her lips before asking her next question. “How do you want me?”

His nostrils flared at her implication and he swallowed before giving his answer. “Like this.” He kissed her hard before turning her around and bending her over the side of the bed, her ass facing him. Quickly shrugging out of his blazer and shirt, he knelt behind her and slid down her skirt and underwear slowly, revealing her glistening center to him.

Massaging her thighs, he moved his hands further up until he reached her apex, running his thumbs over her lips and spreading her juices over her mound. He traced the inside of her long legs with his fingertips, widening her stance by moving her feet apart, using his tongue to make his way back to her sex.

Clarette’s eyes fluttered shut as she felt him rub her slit, his name leaving her lips as he opened her up before he delved in with a long lick. He wrapped his arms around her legs, his fingers drawing circles on her clit as he ate her out from behind. She grinded back into him, her orgasm building quickly from how aroused she had been earlier. Her eyes snapped open when he stopped, only to close again when she felt him stand behind her, his big, thick cock pressing into her entrance.

Beckett leaned over her back, nipping at her ear, while rubbing his head against her sopping pussy. “Trick or treat, my love.” Straightening up, he pushed into her in one fluid motion, shuddering at her tightness. He started out with long, powerful strokes, burying himself deep inside her with each thrust, a feeling of intoxication coming over him as she enveloped him in her wet heat.

She screamed his name in pleasure as he stretched her out, filling her to the brim with his slow pace. Her hands pulled at the satin sheets as she breathed heavy, lying face down into the bed as he pounded her from behind. The familiar electric buzz coursed through her body, ready to give in to him.

Beckett gripped her hips, his fingers leaving imprints from the pressure he was holding onto her with. He groaned in pleasure as he alternated his strokes, speeding up then slowing down when he felt her getting too close to the edge. Looking down, he got a thrill at seeing her bent over for him as he fucked her in this position, her body still clad in the corset from her costume and her long legs still accentuated by her black heels.

Clarette started pushing back against him, and he stood still, watching his swollen cock disappear into her with her movements. He could feel the tightness in his balls building once more, and he bent over her back, his broad frame pinning her petite body against the bed. Grabbing her arms, he held them to either side of her head as he drove into her throbbing pussy.

“Tell me what you want, Clarette,” he growled in her ear, his voice low and animalistic.

“Fuck me harder and make me come, my love,” she moaned, her sweat laden body writhing under him.

Groaning, he reached a hand between her legs, gliding his fingers over her clit as she grinded against him. He rubbed her nub back and forth, sliding her bundle of nerves in between his middle and ring finger, the action making her body tense under his touch.

“God, Beckett, that feels so good,” she scrunched her eyes shut, concentrating on his rigid dick pounding into her and his hand working her pearl. She could feel her orgasm coming, her body buzzing, ready to explode.

He closed his eyes as pumped her faster with his thick shaft, her pussy gripping him like a vice, her walls pulsating around him. He sped his fingers up against her clit, urging her to come around him. Slamming his hips into hers, his dick hit her perfect spot repeatedly and she clenched around his hard cock, her scream muffled by the bunched-up sheets under her.

Her body glowed as she reached her high, and Beckett continued to fuck her through her orgasm, his own rapidly approaching. He held her down as he buried himself in her over and over, before exploding in her after one final thrust. He collapsed over her, his chest to her back, closing his eyes as he peppered kisses on the curve of her neck.

After staying in her for a few moments, he pulled out and climbed on the bed, pulling her up to his chest. She gave him a small smile, kissing his chest with a sigh of content. “That was fun.”

“It wasn’t too much?” He asked with trepidation, knowing that this was the first time they had made love in this frenzied manner.

“Not at all. I like it when you’re in control.” She trailed a finger over his heart, sitting up as she started unhooking the corset. “Though maybe you could’ve taken this thing off me before we started to, you know.”

A tinge of red dusted his cheeks, although it was barely visible in the darkened room. “Ah, yes, about that…” With a swipe of his hand, the hooks undid themselves as the garment fell away. He pulled her back down onto him, wrapping his arms around his faux vampire vixen. “You may have played to one of my fantasies, and you’re right, I do see the validity of Halloween, after all,” he admitted. “But I have been wondering about something all night.”

“Fantasies, hmm? We’re going to have to revisit that sometime. And by the way, that’s one more tick in the ‘I’m right’ column,” she smirked, moving her head to look up at him. “But what were you thinking about?”

“I loved looking at you in your costume, but what made your outfit a vampire? You didn’t have fangs and you weren’t sucking on blood or anything-”

“I seem to recall that I was definitely sucking on something earlier,” she interjected, a playful smile crossing her face.

He held her close, the reverberations from his low laughter rumbling through him. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“I do, and you love me for it.”

He couldn’t deny her as they laced their fingers together, engaging in pillow talk until they both fell asleep in each other’s arms.

The cabin was now dark and silent, the flames from the candles and fire long extinguished. In the midst of their activities that evening, they paid no attention to the metal candelabras twisting and falling to the ground because of his attunement, nor did they pay attention to the glow she gave off because of hers… but a pair of flashing red eyes just beyond the clearing certainly did.

#beckett harrington #beckett x mc #the elementalists #beckett harrington fanfic #shreya mistry #griffin langley #aster d'yew #zeph hernandez #atlas ernhardt #playchoices #choices #beckett harrington x mc #beckett harrington fanfiction #choices fanfiction #playchoices fanfic #beckett x clarette #choices horrorween week #scg writes

125 notes · View notes

therainroguefanfiction · 4 years

Text

✻ Ichi-go, Ichi-e (Baekhyun Byun) Gets Better

📑 Table of Contents

Genre: Fluff, Crack, Slice of Life

Word Count: 1,241

Pairing: Reader x Baekhyun

World: EXO

Prompt: #22, “It’ll get better, right?”

Author’s Note: This was written for @challengingwords writing challenge.

━━━━━━༻ ✻ ༺━━━━━━

“Calm down and tell me what happened.” Baekhyun gently took you by the shoulders, his concerned eyes meeting yours.

You shook your head angrily and he was sure he could see steam coming from your ears. “No, you won’t understand!”

“You won’t know that until you tell me.” His lips met your forehead. “Breathe, baby. In and out.”

You mirrored his deep breathing, your head feeling lighter as your anger lowered to annoyance. He slid the desk chair over, motioning for you to take a seat as he kneeled in front of you, holding onto your knees to steady himself.

“Now, tell me how you feel.”

You rolled your eyes at the amused glint in his own orbs. “Not funny, Baek.”

He pouted. “You don’t like the idea of me being your therapist?”

“Pretty sure it’s morally wrong to sleep with your patients.” You clicked your tongue in disapproval. “You can’t have your cake and eat it, too, Byun Baekhyun.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He wrinkled his nose, lightly smacking your outer thigh. “Stop avoiding the subject. Tell me or I’ll be forced to cuddling you until you give me the info I want!”

Despite yourself, you smiled which made him beam with pride at his accomplishment. “I hate you,” ‘Because you always make me smile no matter how upset I am,’

“Hmm, my spidey senses say otherwise.” Baekhyun wiggled his eyebrows.

“Ew,”

“Y/N~”

“Fine!” You threw your head back and began to recall your story of woe.

━━━━━━༻ ✻ ༺━━━━━━

You loved to write stories and chose to post them on a site called Tumblr because you liked being able to customize your blog. What you chose to write was mostly fanfiction about your favorite fandoms, which helped you to meet people that thought the say way you did and liked the same things. Baekhyun didn’t know anything about this site that its users called a hell-site, but being the supportive boyfriend that he is, he always patiently listened to you every time you needed to rant about the site.

And Tumblr certainly is not a site without its fair share of problems.

You liked to keep your queue rather full so you didn’t spam your followers. That way, if you had a long day or simply didn’t feel like posting, you could relax without having to worry. You pulled up your masterlist so you update it with that day’s posts, but when you clicked on the link, however, a sense of dread filled your body. The once colorful links were now white, the default text color for your theme. Why were the links gone? You had over three-hundred stories at this point and the links were gone.

You were on the verge of panicking.

Had you messed up something when you edited the post yesterday? You were sure you hadn’t, so then why? Trying to calm yourself, you messaged your friend, sending the link and asking them to see if the links were there for them. Surprisingly, she reported that the links were fine, all intact as they should be. She also reported, though, that she believed the site had a link limit per post and guessed the number to be around one hundred.

You tried pulling up the post on your phone – the links were intact and working as they should be. So then, why were the links whited out when you pulled the post up on your computer? ‘Well… as long as my followers can see them,’ you frowned at the screen, trying to put it out of your mind.

After adding the new links, you clicked over to the tags page, relieved to see the colorful links, but after adding a couple new tags and saving, they also whited out. “You have got to be kidding me…”

You quickly debated with yourself on created an external list somewhere because the thought of having multiple masterlists and a rabbit hole of links per fandom made you feel queasy, but you worried that your followers would not be happy with a masterlist on a site outside of Tumblr. And then you remembered the existence of pages.

━━━━━━༻ ✻ ༺━━━━━━

“It’ll get better, right?” Baekyun interrupted you, feeling his temples start to throb at the tale.

“Shush, you’re ruining the mood!” You cleared your throat, picking up where you left off.

Baekyun felt like his mind was going insane, but he remained quiet, trying to keep up with the words leaving your lips.

━━━━━━༻ ✻ ༺━━━━━━

If you just added a new page with your theme rather than getting fancy with customized HTML, it should work just fine for mobile users. At first, you simply copy-pasted the list, but that did not work – for some reason, it made the text black which could barely be seen against the dark grey background of the post.

With a scowl, you deleted the page and tried again. ‘Okay, paste as plain text, then… yes, it worked!’ While the links were not there, all of the text was, which would save you some time. You did feel slightly annoyed by the lack of a header option, though, but it was fine because the preview looked quite nice, so you continued your work.

It took you nearly three hours, with distractions, to finally re-link everything and clean up your blog. The preview was perfect so you saved the page, feeling excited to finally look upon your hard work. You copied the link to the page, pasted it into the browser, and clicked enter.

Your heart sunk like the damn titanic.

The links were whited out, not a single one intact.

“Son of a bitch!” Your face fell to the keyboard with a thunk and you groaned, a mixture of frustration and pain coursing through you. “Stupid, idiotic, bastard hell-site! Why are you like this, huh?! Why are you doing this to me, huh?! Are you trying to make me lose it?!”

Baekhyun cautiously slipped into the roam, unsure how to feel as he watched his partner gripping both sides of the computer monitor, screaming questions at it as if it weren’t just an inanimate object. He had seen you freak out at the computer on more than a couple of occasions, but this? This was definitely new.

━━━━━━༻ ✻ ༺━━━━━━

“And that’s when you stopped me.” You huffed in annoyance, folding your arms across your chest as you sent your boyfriend an accusing look.

“Babe… I stopped you because you picked up a bat.”

“And? It was just wood, it would’ve been fine.”

He sighed, bringing his hand to his forehead. “That computer is expensive, you know.”

“It’s Tumblr’s fault for being such a dick!”

“If the site upsets you so much, why don’t you just stop using it?”

You recoiled back as if he had just made a move to strike you, the wheeled chair sliding back a bit. “I could never do that, Baek!”

“What?” His brow furrowed in confusion. “Why not?”

“Because I love it, obviously!” You responded matter-of-factly, sending him a look as if he should know this information.

Baekhyun deadpanned. “Why am I dating you again?”

“Because you love me~” You grinned, sliding the chair back over to him.

“That’s debatable.” He tried to keep a straight face but failed, lips curling up into a smile as he pulled you into his arms. You returned the smile, hand gripping his so you could bring it to your lips, planting a soft kiss upon his knuckles.

━━━━━━༻ ✻ ༺━━━━━━

📜 Read more by checking out my masterlist 📜

If you enjoy my writing, please considering tipping me on Kofi or Cashapp. Every little bit helps and means a lot, thank you so much ^~^)/ If you can’t afford to do so, that’s okay, too, thanks for reading!

━━━━━━༻ ✻ ༺━━━━━━

The term “Ichi-go, Ichi-e” literally means “one time, one moment”. As explained in [this] article, it is meant to act as a reminder that we should treasure every moment because it will never recur again. I thought that was beautiful, so I decided to use that as the title for this set.

5 notes · View notes

starker-stories · 4 years

Text

An Accord (WIS), Chapter 1

I’ll be re-creating my individual chapter posts for An Accord over here on the blog that replaces starkerstories. Until I hit the current chapter, I’ll be posting daily. They’ll have links to both tumblr and AO3 chapter links. I’m sorry if that bothers people who’ve seen this all before in the tag. I’m content to leave all my other fic as AO3 only, but this is my current favorite child, so I’m spoiling it rotten.

This fic is on a weekly update schedule. Hopefully every Friday. More chapters may appear sooner if the writing is going well. Because I have 0 self-control.

For those of you awaiting chapter 10... Have a nice little re-read while the author recovers from losing all his blogs and a short hospital stay. I’m fine now. I’m back to writing. Me and thestarkerisobvious are getting the next book of Messages ready to go for Sunday Feb 23rd. Then it’s back to working on Accord Ch10 for me.

Tumblr Chapter Links: ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, ch7, ch8, ch9, ch10, ch11, ch12, ch13 AO3 Chapter Links: ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, ch7, ch8, ch9, ch10, ch11, ch12, ch13

Because this is for the MCU Kink Bingo, my usual posting format is different for this first chapter.

Title: An Accord Link: AO3 Square Filled: Clothed Sex (begins in ch6) Ship: WinterIronSpider Rating: E Major Tags: Underage Word Count: full fic will be approx. 35k Created for: @mcukinkbingo Fic Summary: “That’s the thing about forgiveness, Sergeant Barnes,” Peter said, putting a light kiss on Tony’s temple. “It’s given, not earned.”

Additional Tags: Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Polyamory Negotiations, Polyamory, Cheating, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Domestic Nightmare Tony Stark, Reconciliation, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, WinterIronSpider, Happy Ending, Clothed Sex, Domesticity, Peter Parker is legal age in the state of New York, College Student Peter Parker, Takes place about 2 years after Civil War. Closeted Character

Summary: “You got a spare room up there, Stark? There isn’t room for me, Steve, and his self-righteousness in his bed.” ——————————————————————————————

Chapter 1: A Pretty Piece of Tail

“Let FRIDAY answer it,” Peter said muzzily, curling up tighter into Tony’s side. But Tony’s side wasn’t there anymore.

Tony was already half out of the bed. “That’s the penthouse buzzer, babe.”

“I know what it is. Come back to bed.”

“Yeah?” Tony said loudly as he pulled on his dressing gown. “Who is it?” FRIDAY relayed his voice down through the intercom.

“You got a spare room up there, Stark? There isn’t room for me, Steve, and his self-righteousness in his bed.”

“Barnes‽” Tony’s eyes went wide. He tried to stifle a giggle and failed.

“Stark?” Bucky sounded unsure, given the sound he just heard.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s me. Let him up, Fri.”

“No,” Peter said, stumbling out of the bedroom, his sleep pants only half pulled on straight, one hip bone jutting prominently out of the waistband. “No late night Avengers, Tony. I am not pretending to sleep in the guest room again.”

Tony caught Peter around the waist and settled him into his lap on the sofa. “I promised you that would never happen again. It’s not an Avenger, it’s Barnes.”

“What‽” Peter nearly jumped off of Tony’s lap, but Tony held him there.

“Let’s hear him out. This sounds good.”

The elevator disgorged Barnes with his standard Army issue (circa 1945, courtesy of the surplus store, circa 2018) duffel slung over his shoulder. He took in the scene on the sofa and shrugged, dropping his pack.

“So?” Tony asked. “It had to be pretty good to think you’d be more welcome here than there.”

Bucky flung himself into a chair that was at an angle to the sofa. “Might as well try here. Can’t get any colder than over there.”

“I thought you and Captain Rogers were…” Peter started.

“Were.”

“What the hell happened? He damn near killed me in your defense,” Tony said, a little more bitterly than he’d intended.

“Yeah, well, sorry. Information was kinda light on the ground back then and I’d only been me for a little while.”

“Wakanda get rid of the other guy?” Tony asked skeptically.

Bucky nodded. “I wouldn’t have left otherwise. I won’t put anyone in danger,” he said quietly.

“But you and Cap…” Peter tried to ask again.

“Found out that the ‘end of the line’ is the dotted line on which I signed the Accords yesterday afternoon.”

“Where is he, are they, were you, whatever,” Tony said with an eyeroll.

“Not here,” Bucky said. “If you taking me in is reliant on me telling you where they are…”

“Sit your ass back down,” Tony said. “I honestly couldn’t give a fuck where they are. I just want to make sure they’re not anywhere around here thinking about starting shit up again.”

“Sorry,” Bucky said again. “That was all my fault.”

“Yeah, no. You’re a pretty piece of tail…”

Peter leaned back and looked at Tony’s face with shock at both the assessment and the term.

Tony ignored him, well, almost ignored him. A little smirk might’ve crept out. “…and I can see why Steve chased you down, but Steve refused to sign before he knew where you were.”

“The ‘tail’ isn’t pretty enough apparently,” Bucky said. “I thought the reason you guys fell out was over me.”

“Nope. You’re the reason I won’t take him back into the fold.” Tony shrugged. “That’s not it, either. You…” Tony breathed in slowly, deeply, and his eyes closed a moment. Peter’s hand slipped around his shoulder and rubbed small circles at the base of his neck. After a moment, Tony opened his eyes. “You weren’t you. Cap? He has no excuse for lying to me.” He ran his hand over Peter’s thigh, soothing himself with the soft fabric and the solidness of the boy he loved underneath it. “You get to walk through that door and be heard. He doesn’t.”

“Thank you,” Bucky said. “I don’t deserve it.”

“That’s the thing about forgiveness, Sergeant Barnes,” Peter said, putting a light kiss on Tony’s temple. “It’s given, not earned.”

“Listen to the teenager who thinks he’s wiser than the old men in the room,” Tony said, smiling, teasing.

“Yes, listen to the teenager in the room who knows he’s wiser than the old men in the room. God!” Peter rolled his eyes.

Bucky chuckled. “He looks like you when he does that.”

“I do not!”

Tony laughed. “Yes you do. I told you you did. Now we have outside confirmation! So there!”

Peter ducked his head. “You don’t disapprove?”

“Of you and Stark?” Bucky asked. Peter nodded. “First, it’s not my life. I don’t get to approve or disapprove. Second, I’d be a fuckin’ hypocrite if I said anything about a kid getting his first experiences with someone older,” he added with a knowing wink.

“Oh my god! It’s not like that!” Peter said.

“It’s not? Oh. Sorry.” Bucky shrugged. “It was for me and Mrs. Goldstein in 23A. Lasted about three months until she said I was getting ‘clingy’.” He grinned. “Long enough for me to learn what I needed to. But she wasn’t quite as old as he is. And she still had her looks.”

Peter looked worried that Tony might take offense. He seemed to be considering it. But then he laughed. “Oh god, I bet Rogers loves your sense of humor.”

“A long, long time ago he did. Lost that fondness even before he went into the ice,” Bucky said, a little sadly.

“More wisdom from the teenager?” Peter offered. “Like I tell Tony. Going back never works. Only forward.”

“You gave me something to go forward to, baby,” Tony said, squeezing his arm around Peter’s waist. “But the kid’s right. Even if he hadn’t been there, it would’ve been nothing but bad news if I’d chased after Pepper yet again.” He sighed. “Letting go is hard, when someone’s become a habit.”

Bucky nodded. “It’s… I didn’t think it would be the same. It wasn’t even the same when it was. But… he’s,” Bucky sighed, “changed.”

“Look, it’s late. I don’t know where you came in from, but it’s late here and if you’re jetlagged, you need to get on East Coast time.” Tony kissed Peter on the cheek. “Let me get Barnes settled and I’ll be in in a few.”

“Okay Tony.” Peter turned to Bucky. “I’m glad you’re not upset about us.”

“No problem kid.”

“Ugh, another one to call me that,” Peter muttered as he padded off to Tony’s bedroom.

~~~~~

“Thanks for the room, Stark,” Bucky said when Tony showed him to the largest of the guest rooms.

“You’re going to be sharing a roof with me, it’s Tony.”

“Bucky,” he said, reaching out to shake Tony’s hand.

Tony took it. “You grandfathers with your odd rituals,” he laughed.

“Go fuck your child bride, Tony. I’m tired.” Bucky said grinning as he shut the door.

~~~~~

“Who would’ve thought?” Peter asked when Tony slid back under the covers with him.

“That Rogers would be unlivable with?” Tony raised his hand.

“Yeah, but Cap tore everything apart for him!”

“That’s a nice love story, babe, but Rogers tore everything apart for himself. Every single thing he did since…” Tony shook his head and gave a half-shrug. “Ever, has been for no one but himself.” He scoffed. “And he calls me a walking ego. Who’s stuck around to hold together Fury’s boy band with string and bailing wire while Rogers fucks off to god only knows where?” He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. It’s too late to fight the aftermath of Cap’s latest disaster. C’mere.” He smiled at Peter and held his arms wide.

~~~~~

“Dear god, pretty, you cook!” Tony said, stumbling out of the bedroom in nothing but boxers, scrubbing at his face. “Don’t touch the coffee!”

Tony ran to close the distance and grabbed the bag of beans out of Bucky’s hand. He ground them and started a pot of drip brewing. That was for Peter. Who no matter how hard Tony tried, was still a philistine when it came to coffee. Then he dug the good stuff out of the cabinet and started making his espresso. “Good coffee’s a little more difficult than boiling grounds with eggshells, pretty.” Peter emerged from the hallway, almost sleepwalking. “Mornin’ beautiful,” Tony said, planting a kiss on the top of Peter’s rumpled curls.

“You didn’t cook,” Peter said to Tony. He sniffed the air, his eyes still mostly unopened, as he sat at the counter.

“That would be me,” Bucky said, putting a plate in front of Peter at the kitchen stool.

“Are you complaining about my culinary expertise?” Tony said, miffed.

“Not at all, Tony. I’m sure you and May will open your own restaurant any day now.

“Shut up and drink your coffee flavored milk syrup.” Tony sat a mug in front of Peter.

Peter opened one eye fully and looked back and forth between the two men. “One to feed me food, one to feed me caffeine… I could grow to like this arrangement,” he said teasingly.

“There isn’t enough coffee in that to count as caffeine,” Tony said as he prepared his second espresso shot of the morning. “Want some?” he asked, taking a second cup of the shelf and putting it under the spout next to his.

“Italian coffee? Yes please.”

Food and drink arranged, the three of them spread out at the counter. Peter on one side of Tony, Bucky on the other.

Peter finished first. He put his plate in the sink. “He cooks, he can stay.”

Tony got up, glared at Peter as he very pointedly put his plate in the dishwasher. “He cooks like that every day, he can’t stay. I have a heart condition. That much bacon will kill me.”

Peter laughed and grabbed another piece. “I have no idea how long spiders live, so I’ll eat all of yours.” He stopped suddenly. “Oh fuck.”

“Spider’s out of the bag now, kid,” Tony said.

“You didn’t hear that, right?” Peter asked, ducking his head.

Bucky got up and added his plate to the sink, earning himself a glare that matched the one Tony gave Peter. “Hear what? That you’re Spider-Man? Been knowing that, kid. All the rogues do.”

“Oh god,” Peter said in a small voice.

“It’s okay, Pete,” Tony said, putting his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “They’re off the reservation, but they’re still Avengers. No one will tell.”

“Tony’s right. Your secret’s safe.”

“I’ve got class until four thirty today. It’s the stupid senior requirement for my early entrant program.”

“I’m sorry, kid. I got you into Columbia early. Got you into 200s in chemistry, but the state of New York requirements, those I couldn’t get you out of.”

“It’s okay, Tony,” Peter said, giving the man a kiss. “I just get bored.”

Tony turned back to the kitchen once the elevator door shut behind Peter. “Does no one know how to wash a dish in this place?”

Bucky plopped on the sofa. “I cooked, someone else cleans.”

Tony flung a dishcloth at his head. Bucky flung it back and Tony loaded the dishwasher. “So, you wanna tell me what happened?” he asked.

Bucky sighed and turned sideways, looking over the back of the sofa into the kitchen. “There’s dissension in the ranks of the rogues. Ever since Vision took up with Wanda. And no, I won’t tell you where they are.”

“Didn’t ask.”

“They’re leaning toward coming in and signing. Natalia too. Barton’s missing and presumed back with his family thanks to Fury. So that left Scott, Sam, Steve, and me. Scott’s taking the government’s deal of house arrest so he can be with his daughter. Steve thought he had me and Sam solidly behind him still. I signed yesterday afternoon with stipulations.”

“What stipulations?” Tony asked, sitting at the other end of the sofa.

“Better than I deserved.”

“What were they?”

“Regular psych evals, check-ins, and clearing by the doctors in Wakanda.”

“And?”

Bucky winced. “A full debrief by Ross.”

“No.”

“What?”

“I said — no.”

“It was part of the agreement I signed,” Bucky explained.

“And, I said, no,” Tony repeated. “If you’re brought in as an Avenger your debrief can be handled by Fury. I can track his secrets. Everett Ross? I can track him, but he’s a fuckin’ weasel. Fury’s an honorable man. Mostly. What’s in that pretty head,” Tony pointed at Bucky, “does not go any farther than Avengers HQ.”

“I signed, Tony.”

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t be debriefed, I’m just proposing an amendment as to who should do the debriefing.” He stood and patted Bucky’s metal arm. “And by ‘proposing’, I mean ‘demanding’.” He took out his phone and headed back to his room.

Bucky followed. “I didn’t try to hide when I came here. They’ll come to get me.”

Tony scoffed. “Let them try.”

Bucky looked about to object again.

Tony stopped him. “Do you know what I used to make for a living?” Bucky nodded. “And what opened up about three hundred feet above us?” Another nod. “Do you really think I would park this ass, of which I am inordinately fond, in just another shiny New York skyscraper?” Bucky’s eyes widened. “Let. Them. Try.” Tony smiled as he went to shut his bedroom door. “Go watch a movie or two. This might take awhile.”

#starker #winterironspider #WIS An Accord #reposting to the tags & to the bingo because everything below the readmore got lost #when starkerstories got deleted #it's all still on ao3 though #Von writes stuff #I won't repost more than one chapter a day so as not to spam the tag /too/ much #so hopefully you will all follow me here instead of on starkerstories (no hyphen) which is a dead blog #this is von's new home now #please mind the unpacked crates and boxes

11 notes · View notes

guilty-lights · 5 years

Text

Straw-Hat Pirates Death Headcanons

So someone on one my fics took up on my enthusiastic invitation in my end-author notes to ask me about my death headcanons for the Straw-Hat Pirates. (Shoutout to Jeanne-Crab on ao3 for that comment!) I was typing out my answer to that question and realised that I had Way More To Say About It Than I Thought, so I thought i might as well put it up as a post on my tumblr!

I’ll split this into two parts; my headcanons for SHP’s deaths as I think it could happen in canon, and then specifically in how it would happen in the universe as set in my fic, like the seas, you live on (in me). (Shameless plug here: If you like zosan, and also appreciate angst and hurt/comfort, read my fic? It’s zosan-but-kind-of-not-but-also-kinda-is, it’s complicated, but it’s 30k and I worked Super Hard on it and I personally think it’s pretty good so if please give it a shot! Do Read The Tags Before Reading It, Though, because I would never want to cause people unnecessarily extreme distress. And read my other fics too if you want WHOOP) Anyway, without ado, here’s my headcanons for Straw-Hat Pirates’ deaths. This is a very very Very Long post, so buckle up:

AS PER CANON

First off: Everybody, by the time of their death, has achieved their life’s dreams, because of course they have. (I won’t hear of anything otherwise, go away!!)

Luffy: Luffy dies in the war on Raftel, or wherever the final battle for being Pirate King happens. He definitely becomes Pirate King, don't get me wrong, but he dies very soon after because of his injuries and because of the amount of his lifespan he has traded in using his Gears. This is the one headcanon I think (FEAR) will happen - Oda's constant allusion to Luffy's lifespan in his use of Gears and things like that just feels so suspect to me in this regard...

Luffy is buried near where Ace is, because that's what he would've wanted and so that's what the Straw-Hat Pirates did. Not right next to Ace (because that would mean Luffy’s also buried right next to Whitebeard and that doesn't feel right to me for some reason), but somewhere close by, either on the other side of the same island or on an island very, very close by. His emblematic pirate flag is erected on his grave, and its symbol flaps ceaselessly in the wind, always in the direction of where the sea is closest to. (And next to a village called Foosha, however, deep in the heart of a mountain called Mt. Colubo, a monument to a boy is erected posthumously by the mountain bandits and villagers who live there, at the base of a tree where a dilapidated treehouse still stands despite all the years.)

Luffy is the only one to die so young; the rest don't die until years later. By that time, though, they've long stopped sailing together as the Straw-Hat Pirates. Think of it like how Gol D. Roger's pirates split themselves off after the death of their captain; they're still friends for sure, and they hold each other as very precious, but there is no point or need to sail together as pirates anymore after the death of their captain, whom they have rallied themselves with.

For the rest, I'm not sure who will die first, because within the One Piece canon literally So Many Things can happen, but here’s their burial arrangements:

Brook: Brook was interesting to figure out, because he's technically already died once before. I was trying to work out what the implications of his devil fruit is (is he immortal? But given the reverence given to Law's Immortality Surgery, that doesn't seem likely), and I decided that users of Brook's devil fruit will go once they decide it's time to just...go. So that's what Brook did. He lived until Laboon finally passes on, to make sure Laboon is never left behind again, and then he gathers the rest of the Straw-Hat Pirates in one place, says his goodbyes, and simply...leaves. His bones collapse on the ground with no spirit to hold them up, and per his request his bones are scattered over West Blue. His violin and sword cane are erected as part of a monument next to Luffy’s grave.

Robin: I’m not precisely sure HOW Robin would die, but probably for her she would die quite peacefully, of old age. Frankly speaking, after all she’s been put through from childhood to adulthood, she deserves a little peace at least at the end of her life. Robin’s monument next to Luffy’s grave is a simple pair of crossed arms made of pale marble (one of the hands holds a book). Her body isn’t buried there, however; in the West Blue, on a barren stretch of scorched land that people say used to be called Ohara, a singular grave can be found in the centre of it.

Franky: His monument next to Luffy’s grave is of his blue metal forearms (one of which is holding a little hammer). Franky's grave of his human parts, however, are buried on Water 7, at the spot where him and Iceburg and Tom used to work on trains together. A mini replica of Sunny shaped out of metal is on top of it, to tell everyone that the shipwright that built the second pirate ship that ever sailed to Raftel lies here.

Usopp: Unlike everybody else, Usopp asks to have his burial place split into two places. To make this easier, he’s cremated. One half of his ashes is buried in Syrup Village, next to his mother’s grave, and the other half of him is buried under a monument next to Luffy’s. On his monument are the words, “The Bravest Warrior of the Sea, Sniper Usopp, A Giant Among Men” (or words to that effect). His crewmates chose those words for him. His Sogeking mask is hung on his monument. His grave in Syrup Village, however, is much simpler; his original green slingshot is fastened to it (and will slowly wear down, over the years, to an unrecognisable sun-bleached stump), and on it are the words “The greatest liar of Syrup Village that has ever lived”.

Nami: Nami also gets a monument next to Luffy’s grave. (Okay right at this point just assume that every Straw-Hat Pirate has a monument next to Luffy’s grave!!) However, like Robin and Franky, her monument doesn’t have her body. Nami is buried at Cocoyashi, at the cliff overlooking the sea where her mother Belle-mere was (and where her sister is/was buried too, depending whether Nami dies before or after Nojiko does). With her in the grave is the original copy of the world map she has made, her greatest triumph.

Zoro: Zoro probably dies the most second most violent death after Luffy, what with being the world’s greatest swordsman and all. Probably he is killed/ mortally wounded by someone who comes to take his title, as he probably did to Mihawk before him. He’s cremated, and his ashes are buried next to Luffy’s as Luffy’s first mate and right-hand man (Zoro is first mate even if it was never officially stated!!!). His swords, however, are a different story; Wado Ichimonji I believe Zoro requests to be brought back to Shimotsuki, and put next to Kuina’s grave. As for the other two swords, I don’t know HOW precisely it will happen but it’s left out in the wide world for whoever is worthy to wield them again, because I think Zoro wouldn’t believe in keeping the blades for himself post-mortem.

Sanji: He also gets a monument next to Luffy. His body, however, is not there; when Sanji dies he is cremated and his ashes are scattered throughout All-Blue, where a floating restaurant called the Baratie now stays; the most famous restaurant there is in the entire world, and it’s unique in that no matter who you are, if you are hungry and come through the door, you get to eat.

Chopper: He’s probably the last one to die, I think. Not only because he’s the youngest but also because he’s a doctor, I’m sure he knows how to heal himself up whenever he gets sick. His body is buried next to Luffy’s grave, but on Drum Island, there is a monument with a distinctive hat design erected underneath the base of a sakura tree; the tree, despite the wintry climate of the island, blooms pink and full all year round. (Chopper worked with Usopp on genetically developing a sakura horticulture that could do that, before their deaths).

Jinbe: Jinbe buried underneath the sea, but close to where sunlight will always shine bright because that has always been the fishmen’s dream. His underwater grave bears his past as a Sun Pirate and all the contributions and sacrifices he has made for his people, but his monument on land, he is noted (like all the others), as a most dearly and beloved member of the Straw-Hat Pirates, one whose loyalty never wavered, up until the end.

Monuments of Going Merry and Thousand Sunny are erected, because ships are crewmates too.

AS PER MY FIC’S UNIVERSE

In terms of burial arrangements, everything I said about all the Straw-Hats above are applicable here (unless stated otherwise below), PLUS what I will say here below:

Robin and Franky: I think in my fic, Robin and Franky would be the first to die, because they're the oldest (save for Brook). In my fic’s universe it is Never Mentioned but Franky and Robin are as good as married, and had spent their whole lives together (I'm sorry but Frobin is Real to me and you can pry it out of my cold dead hands). Their monuments are side-by-side next to Luffy's. On top of their monuments holding their respective items, their monuments' hands hold each other's.

Chopper: Chopper has yet to die at the time of my fic, but when he does, whatever I described above will apply. At the point of the fic he has already worked out the horticulture of the ever-blooming sakura tree and it has already been planted in Drum Island, and has been growing steadily for years.

Zoro and Sanji: Zoro and Sanji have yet to die at the time of my fic. Their burial arrangements would be the same, however. As for HOW they might die, I recommend you read my fic to find out! (I can’t give away all my cards, obviously.)

That’s all! This has become an awfully long post, and I commend you if you managed to reach this far to the end. Let me know what you think of this: do you agree? Disagree? I would love to discuss this with people, it would be very fascinating, no matter how thoroughly sad. In the meantime, if you’d like to read any one piece fanfiction, feel free to check out my ao3 :)

57 notes · View notes

twdeadlysins · 5 years

Text

What Lies Ahead: Part Three

Season two, episode one (3/3)

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon and Reader

Word Count: 5,422

Warnings: Slow burn, minor mention of character death, mention of attempted suicide, the usual walking dead violence, language, blood, and such with possible typos.

Author’s Note: I don’t own anything from The Walking Dead, so all credit goes to their respective owners. This is a twd series rewrite with the reader inserted into the mix. I did and will continue to use dialogue from the actual show because I want it to be similar to what you’ve already watched, but obviously have the reader in it.

If you want to be (un)tagged for this series rewrite, don’t hesitate to send me an ask, message me, or leave a comment and I’ll add/remove you. The same goes for any other fics! I’m in no way, shape, or form a writer. Any feedback is appreciated, but hate is a different story. Thank you and enjoy!

The gifs I use aren’t mine, so all credit goes to their respective owners.

With tumblr being stupid and all, my Masterlist can be found linked in my bio to catch up or what not. Sorry for the inconvenience… hopefully this gets fixed soon.

Rick had discussed privately with you, Shane and Daryl about the four of you having permission to carry guns while the rest were going to be equipped with some other type of weapon that didn’t require bullets. There was no objection there, no one besides the four of you should carry a loaded weapon since no one else had experience. After the meeting, you exchanged goodnights and decided to make a little makeshift bed in the back of a random pickup truck that was near the RV. You gathered whatever blankets you could find and tossed one into a drawstring bag to use as a pillow before setting your backpack and weapons in the back as well.

Dale had offered for you to sleep in the RV, but you kindly declined wanting to be alone and not coped up in the vehicle even if it was just to sleep. You wanted to feel the cool air and look up at the stars since you knew you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep as quick as you had the last couple of nights. Besides you wanted a space to yourself and call your own. The stars twinkled in the dusk sky giving you a distraction away from the thoughts that crept in your mind and you hoped the trance you were in would put you to sleep, you needed the energy for tomorrow to look for Sophia.

Despite the trouble you had in snoozing off, you woke up early enough to see the sun rise from your spot in the truck bed. It wasn’t like you’d be able to rest any longer since the rays would’ve awaken you anyways, so might as well get a head start. Since no one was up yet, you traded your black v-neck top for a white one and hopped out since you slept in your ripped jeans and combat boots. You strapped on your holsters and secured your pistol and machete along with your collection of knives before peeking into one of the nearby cars in search of food because boy were you starving.

Once you sifted through and found some kettle chips, you leaned up against the back of the truck to pop open the bag to see Rick approaching you with his cop uniform on. You gave him a smile, offering the bag to him to which he smirked and took a few earning a giggle from you. When you two were in high school, you’d both get different things for lunch and share each other’s trays, having a bit of everything to munch on.

“You know there’s a whole stash of food behind that car that everyone gathered,” Rick mentioned with a chuckle as he dusted off his hands, causing you to pause on the chip you were currently crunching on to comprehend what he just said.

“Whoops?” you shrugged, earning your best friend to shake his head with a laugh and you couldn’t help, but to giggle yourself hearing happiness come out of his mouth and how stupid you were.

After the goofiness died down, Rick had folded his arms across his chest and turned a little serious while you placed the empty bag in the truck bed behind you. “You sure you ready to help search? I heard about your hip.”

You sighed, “I’m sure. I’ll be fine, it’s just a bruise besides I have you to look after me,” you playfully said with a smirk, nudging his side with your elbow making him break out into a gleeful smile.

Not long after, everyone started to wake up and come out, so you and Rick made your way over to a car that was close to the RV to finally set out to find Sophia. You took position against the RV as Rick slammed a collection of weapon tools on the hood of the vehicle and unraveled it. “Everybody takes a weapon.”

“These aren’t the kind of weapons we need,” Andrea complained and you rolled your eyes knowing damn well she couldn’t shoot a gun because when you met her, she didn’t even take the safety off, so why should it matter? “What about the guns?”

“We’ve been over that,” Shane blatantly said. “Daryl, Rick, Y/N and I are carrying. We can’t have people popping off rounds every time a tree rustles.” You quietly snickered to yourself at his comment while you doubled check to see if your P99 was loaded and had a full clip.

“It’s not the trees I’m worried about,” she hesitantly clarified.

“Say somebody fires at the wrong moment, a herd happens to be passing by. See, then it’s game over for all of us,” he said all jokes aside. “So you need to get over it.”

The blonde still didn’t look very pleased, but she chose to finally shut her mouth on the situation giving Daryl the opportunity to discuss the plan, where you’d all head to search. His idea was to take the creek up for about five miles, then turn around and come back down on the other side. It wasn’t a bad plan at all, so there was no need for you to voice an opinion especially since he knew the woods better than you did. The creek was her only landmark, so finding her near there was high.

“Stay quiet and stay sharp. Keep space between you, but always stay within sight of each other,” Rick instructed at the group, causing you to nod with the corner of your mouth turned up. That was something the sheriff said to the three of you before going on a grid search or raiding a house, when things were more simpler than the dead rising.

Rick had requested for Dale to keep tinkering on the RV, so once you found Sophia, you’d all be able to get the hell out of the area and back on the original plan, to head for Fort Benning. You still thought it was a waste of time and resources, but it was better than being stranded on the interstate. Before you could head out, Rick had asked for the old man to keep an eye on Carl, but he said he was going with you all which wasn’t surprising to hear, it even made you chuckle.

“You need people, right? To cover as much ground as possible,” Carl said, trying to convince his father which made Rick groan in thought, trying to make a decision on him joining. Rick had turned over to his wife for an answer, but all she did was look at the ground and tell him it was his call. Dale even made a point in saying he had all of you to look after him, so you were sold on him tagging along. His father ultimately agreed, making you grin at the boy after they departed.

“I guess this is finally the hunting trip you always wanted me to take you out on,” you joked in light of the situation, ruffling his hair before hugging him into your good side. “Sorry it won’t be fun,” you gloomily apologized once you loosened your grip to hug his face within your palms.

Carl shrugged his shoulders, “It’s okay. All that matters is finding Sophia.” You gingerly smiled and pressed a quick kiss on top of his head before smoothing out his hair. “Stick with me, kid. I’m going to be real slow out there and I need you to protect me,” you quipped, earning a chuckle in return.

With you and Carl in conversation, you didn’t notice the feud between Andrea and Dale occurring, she wasn’t backing down without her gun that he took from her. “But if Y/N and I hadn’t done what we did, you’d be dead right now,” Dale reminded.

“Jenner gave us an option. I chose to stay-”

“You chose suicide!” Dale argued.

“So what’s that to you? Or Y/N? You barely know me,” Andrea lashed back and it made you uncomfortable that she had felt this way this entire time.

“I know Amy’s death devastated you,” Dale began to say.

“Keep her out of this,” Andrea sternly said. “This is not about Amy. This is about us and if I decided that I had nothing left to live for, who the hell are you to tell me otherwise? To force my hand like that?”

“We saved your life,” Dale confusedly spoke.

“No, Dale. I saved both of yours, you guys forced that on me. I didn’t want the blood on my hands and that is the only reason I left that building. What did you expect?” Andrea questioned.

“Maybe just a little gratitude,” he softly voiced.

“Gratitude? I wanted to die my way, not torn apart by drooling freaks. That was my choice, you took that away from me,” she said, tears ready to spill. “All I wanted after my sister died was to get out of this endless horrific nightmare we live everyday. I wasn’t hurting anyone else. You took my choice away, Dale right along with Y/N and you expect… gratitude?”

You moved away from Carl to take a couple steps forward. “I don’t appreciate being dragged into this because the only reason why I went back into that building was to try and reason with you to not opt out, not force you. If you had still refused, then I would’ve left and dragged Dale right along with me ‘cause then I could say I at least tried. I even said it was your choice and that we couldn’t make you, so I did not force your hand and I sure as hell did not take your choice away. So don’t you dare say I did,” you fumed, tears wanting to be freed, but you refused to let them. You understood being blamed for Sophia, you faulted yourself for it and for not being able to save your aunt and uncle, but you sure as hell weren’t about to be blamed for saving her. It made you risking the chances of being blown up mean nothing.

You began to walk away, not caring to hear any other remarks, but you turned your head to peer at the ground to clarify one more thing. “By the way, you said you weren’t hurting anyone else… well you’re wrong. You would’ve hurt everyone in this group just like Jacqui’s death did.” And with that you strided off hearing multiple footsteps behind you, the search for Sophia was on.

Daryl was leading the way while you were following Lori and Carl, skimming through the knee lengthed grass with Shane as the caboose, trailing behind you. You had the palm of your hand resting on the grip of your pistol while your other hand held your machete. Carl was fiddling with one of your knives in his hands as he walked, but he stopped to show Shane his new weapon. He was telling him how you had given it to him to protect you which made a grin stretch across your face, but it disappeared once Shane had interrupted him in the rudest of ways.

“Keep it down, we’re lookin’ for Sophia. You need to focus on the task,” he scolded as he turned around to search for anything behind. Lori had ushered for her child to keep up, giving you a look that she had heard everything, so you pivoted around to give him a piece of your mind.

“What the fuck was that?” you harshly whispered.

“What was what?” he questioned, preoccupied at scanning the area instead of looking at your face.

You huffed, pointing in the direction of the group with your blade. “What you did to Carl. He was just trying to show you his cool new knife and you had to bring him down with your ‘Focus on the task’ attitude,” you mocked with your fists on your hips, puffing out your chest with a deep voice.

All he did was scoff and press on with you tied to the hip, you weren’t going to let him off that easy. “You know you’re very lucky I somewhat forgave you from what happened at the C.D.C,” you reminded in a hush tone, catching his attention.

“You know I was just drunk, you know that,” he definitively pointed at you, his eyes full of regret.

You scoffed, surveying the area and making sure to watch your step. “Yeah, well, that still doesn’t change what you did, but I’m not going to hang it above your head. Anyways, now that I grabbed your attention, are you pushing away Carl because of Lori?” you eagerly questioned.

“I don’t see why that’s any of your concern or business,” he retorted, giving you a sideways glance.

“It is my business!” you somewhat shouted accidentally and you pried your angered glare off of Shane to see if anyone was looking. Lori’s questioning eyes met yours and you gave her a fake smile before going back to what you were doing. “You are having a feud with my best friend’s- your best friend’s wife,” you corrected, poking him on his arm. “And I want to know why.”

Before he could answer, Shane had tapped you with the back of his hand still keeping his orbs forward and you wanted to slap it away, but you followed his line of sight. There was a tent crowded around with trees giving it a secluded feeling and Shane brought up how Sophia could be in there which wasn’t a terrible assumption.

The four of you that carried guns quietly approached the tent before Daryl gave a signal for the three of you to stay back. He wielded out his knife and got into a crouched stance, ready to strike as he stepped closer to the makeshift home. The archer peeked inside the holes of the tent and waved his hands in an i-don’t-know-can’t-tell way, so Rick quietly called Carol over. He ordered her to call Sophia out softly, if she was in there, her mother’s voice should be the first thing she should hear.

Carol loudly, but quietly called for her daughter, promising that it was safe to come out. It was silent… she wasn’t in there and your heart shattered. Rick and Shane advanced to the tent while you stood beside Carol as Daryl gradually unzipped the tent before lifting the flap. He jerked his head away and covered his senses with the back of hand, indicating in your mind that there was a dead body in there and if it stunk that bad, it had to have been there for weeks. Daryl confirmed what you had thought as he exited the tent, he opted out.

All of a sudden, a sound began to ring out and as you listened closer it sounded like bells, but you couldn’t tell where they were coming from since your concussion prevented you from doing so. Luckily, Rick motioned the way and you all frantically sprinted towards the sound, it could be Sophia.

You were keeping up with the group pretty well considering your injured leg, but then Rick and Shane paused trying to pinpoint the sound again. It wasn’t just your hearing then, the woods were affecting it, bouncing off of trees or what not. Carol and Glenn made a good point, if you could hear them, then Sophia could hear them too or someone was calling for others or maybe she was ringing them herself.

There were trees hovering over your path, but you could identify a clearing and a white building. Once you pushed passed the leaves, a church came into view, but it didn’t have a steeple or bells to cause the ringing. Rick ignored Shane’s observation and began to dash towards the godly building. No one was in grave danger, so you chose to speed walk while the others followed the southern quickly. After you caught up with the group, Rick and Daryl were positioned on either side of the door ready to breach in with Shane in front.

The doors were pushed open and three walkers craned their heads to look at you. One was in a bridal gown and the two others looked to be in matching attire, well that was a wedding to remember. You left the killings to Rick, Shane and Daryl since it was only three plus your hip was bothering you.

“I’m telling you, it’s the wrong church. It’s got no steeple, Rick,” Shane said after the walkers were put down. And it triggered in your brain, there wasn’t a steeple or bells, but it did come from this church, just like the one you went to with your aunt and uncle when you were younger. Before you could voice your theory, the bells began to ring again causing you to wince and hold your ears as they ran out the door, your concussion was doing a number on you. “Guys it’s automated!” you shouted, but they didn’t hear you.

When you stumbled outside, the persistent ringing had finally stopped and you spotted a speaker on the side of the building. You exhaled a sigh and dragged your feet back into the church and sat on a pew in the back, leaning your elbows on the one in front of you as you rested your chin in your hand and stared at the statue of Jesus hanging on the cross. Rick, Carl and Daryl were standing in the back while Lori was in the front row for Carol’s comfort.

You overheard Carol pray out loud, asking for forgiveness even though she knew she didn’t deserve it. She had prayed for a safe trip to Atlanta, punishment on Ed for laying his hands on her and looking at his own daughter which made your stomach turn. She continued to talk about Sophia and how she pleaded for the Lord to bring her back to her. How her wanting Ed dead was a sin and Sophia shouldn’t be punished for it, just her.

Once it was silent with the exception of Carol’s whimpers, you began to quietly pray yourself. You didn’t consider yourself a very religious person, yeah you believed in a higher power since you also believed everything happened for a reason, but you didn’t pray as often as you should. When you were sixteen, your aunt and uncle, well mainly your uncle, was cool with allowing you to get your first tattoo. With it being your first tattoo and all, you decided to get something small and meaningful, you never wanted to get inked unless it had significance to you. The first thing that came to mind was a cross, not only as a symbol of your faith, but for your parents as well. You wanted to believe they were in better place, that they were looking down on you with proud smiles on their faces.

“Yo what up Christ,” you joked with a nervous chuckle before shaking your head at how much of an idiot you were. “I haven’t done this in well… only you would know besides you can tell from- whatever,” you scrambled your hands in the air before linking them together in your lap.

“I just wanted to say that I don’t blame you for what happened to Jolene and Chris… and I know you wouldn’t want me to blame myself and I’m getting better at not doing so. This is going to sound fucked up- ‘scuse my language Lord- I’m kind of glad it happened because I didn’t want them to have to live in this world. To go through the things we’ll have to go through because they deserved better than this world we live in now. Hell, the people I’m with deserve more, but just because I’m thankful that they don’t have to go through everyday surviving doesn’t mean I wish death upon these people- upon Sophia,” you solemnly whispered, staring at the statue and the ceiling from time to time.

“Please guide us to her or her to us, we just want her alive and safe, to be with her loving mother and us- the people who care about her,” you pleaded in a hushed tone. “In the name of Jesus, Amen.”

After you finished, you stood up and turned to get out of the aisle. Once you did, your eyes connected to Daryl’s and you knew he heard everything you said by the soft look in his eyes, but you still wished he somehow didn’t. You averted your gaze quicker than you had looked at him and stepped out of the church with Rick following you out.

Shane had trekked where the two of you were telling you the group had to get a move on since there was only a couple hours of daylight left and that there was a long way back. Rick didn’t want to stop and you didn’t want to either, but you were spent. There was a whole lot of ground to cover and not enough hours in the day unfortunately.

“Her being out here is my fault,” Rick said, leading you to abruptly shake your head.

“No it isn’t. You did everything in your power to keep her safe, you lead those walkers away and made sure she was hidden, gave her directions just in case,” you assertively said. “It’s my fault. I could’ve done a lot of things, but chose to be a hero instead of thinking. I learned to come up with tactics and ideas in high pressure situations in the military and when it came to a little girl-,” you paused, taking a deep breath. “I didn’t use anything.”

Shane halfheartedly chuckled which caused you to frown his way. “That’s great. Now they got you both doubting yourselves, huh.”

“What about you? You doubt me? You doubt her?” Rick inquired, but knowing Shane he’d just maneuver around the question.

“Hey, we can assign all kinds of blame,” he began to say, making you lift your hands and smile in disbelief, you couldn’t have been more right. Rick had gotten in his face saying how finding Sophia meant something, that they couldn’t give up, so Shane patted the two of you on the backs as he walked passed.

Shane cleared his throat and told the group that they’d follow the creek bed back and that Daryl was in charge. He then explained how the three of you were going to hang back and search the area for another hour or so. You were sort of exhausted, but not enough to stop looking, you could manage a couple hours. The redneck questioned the idea of splitting you all up, but Shane assured you’d all catch up.

“I want to stay too,” Carol spoke up, causing you to quirk a brow and shift your gaze on the little boy to his father for an answer. “I’m her friend.” You smiled at that and Rick exchanged looks between you and Shane, wondering what he should do, so you just shrugged your shoulders. You didn’t see any harm in it, bringing him out was a big decision in itself, a couple more hours wouldn’t hurt.

Lori ended up giving the okay as she told him to be careful. “When did you start growing up,” she teased, kissing him on the head as she gave him a hug. Rick went to bid a brief see-you-soon hug and kiss and you noticed the look that Shane and Lori had as they did. Shane and Andrea even gave each other a look leaving you to wonder what the fuck was going on. What were you missing?

Rick offered his wife his gun, but she denied, not wanting to leave him unarmed. Daryl had a spare from the tent he retrieved, so he handed it to her leaving Andrea to shake her head in disbelief. You understood her frustration since only four people were allowed to have guns, but the three of you were separating. They needed another person with a loaded weapon. She just needed to grow up and not take everything to heart, life was unfair, so you rolled your eyes at her behavior.

As the rest of the group headed back to the interstate, Rick had asked for a minute before you all started back up again, so you hung out on the steps and played rock, paper, scissors with Carl. Rick was in the church most likely praying which was something he never did, but who were you to judge? You were a believer and barely talked to the Lord yourself.

You wanted to continue the conversation you were having with Shane before you all found the tent, but you didn’t want to do that in front of Carl. He was already getting dragged into it by his mother and Shane, he didn’t need to be engrossed into all of this drama… if that was what it was.

“Okay, how about whoever gets the best out of three gets,” you tailed off, thinking of what the grand prize would be. “Gets to have those double chocolate chip cookies at the highway when we get back,” you smirked, wiggling your eyebrows. Carl giggled and agreed to the terms, bragging about how he was going to win which caused Shane to try and suppress a smile.

One, two, three. You= paper, Carl= rock

One, two, three. You= rock, Carl= rock

One, two, three. You= rock, Carl= paper

You had a feeling he was going to choose rock next since every time you two would play, he would do whatever you did last next for his turn. You had chosen scissors and Carl had done rock, and when he realized he had won, he sprouted up and began cheering making Shane laugh and you fake pout with your arms crossed.

“Looks like you get the cookies, Carl, nice play,” you annoyedly faked in defeat and gave him a lousy high five before Rick came out. You stood up and ruffled Carl’s hair before stepping down to follow his father. He didn’t look too happy and Shane had picked up on that too since he gave you a look, so you shrugged your shoulders in return.

Daryl’s POV

“So this is it? This the whole plan?” Carol complained and Daryl understood, it didn’t exactly turn out the way he envisioned. He didn’t expect for the group to get smaller which he still thought wasn’t the smartest thing to do.

“Carrying knives and pointy sticks,” Andrea mentioned, peering over jealousy on her face at Lori who was unzipping her backpack. “I see you have a gun.”

Lori didn’t take no time in replying back. “Why you want it? Here take it.” She handed the gun over with attitude, fed up with the blonde’s. “I’m sick of the looks you’re giving me.” Andrea scoffed, but took the weapon anyways, isn’t that what she wanted?

Daryl thought Andrea was overreacting, that it wasn’t a big if she didn’t have one. It wasn’t like any of them were going to be shooting any walkers, they’d resort to his crossbow or the bladed weapons. No sense in making noise when you don’t have to.

“All of you,” Lori began before directing her attention to Carol. “Honey, I can’t imagine what you’re going through and I would do anything to stop it, but you have got to stop blaming Rick and Y/N. It is in your face every- time- you- look- at- them,” she emphasized. “When Sophia ran they didn’t hesitate, did they? Not for a second. I don’t know that any of us would have gone after her the way they did or made the hard decisions they had to make or that anybody could have done it any differently. Anybody?” she questioned, wandering her orbs over everyone, looking if anyone would speak up.

Daryl wanted to think he could, but deep down he probably wouldn’t have done what Y/N and Rick had done. He wasn’t there in the moment since he was aiding T-Dog with his arm, hiding them both under corpses so the dead would pass by. He risked his life for him which made him take a second to think back about those times he had scolded Y/N for doing the exact same thing he did. It wasn’t a blowing building situation, but it was sort of like Sophia and he had shouted at Y/N for chasing after her since she had a concussion. He had a justified reason for everything that he did, so why did he feel so bad?

“Y’all look to him and then you blame him when he’s not perfect. If you think you can do this without him, go right head, nobody is stopping you,” Lori angrily said, now only talking about Rick since even Y/N looked to him for answers, he was like an older brother to her. He could relate, Daryl always had looked up to Merle even when he was a dick, didn’t change the fact that they were blood, that he loved him.

He also didn’t blame Y/N for what had happened with Sophia. She had bolted after her the minute she heard something go down and that said a lot about her character. She was caring, put others before herself, strong, and an all around good person… something Daryl still didn’t believe he could be.

After Lori’s rant had ended, Andrea had handed back over the gun and advised that they should keep moving, so Daryl motioned for them to get in front while he stayed in the middle just in case.

Y/N’s POV

The four of you had been casually walking through the wooded area, still searching for Sophia in silence, not wanting to get distracted or make noise. The pain in your hip was a distraction in itself and you were curious as to what it looked since it had been a whole day. While you continued to limp as you followed closely, you gestured for Shane to hold your machete. Once your hands were free, you quietly undid your belt and stretched down your jeans to reveal your now multi colored bruise. It had to have had all the colors in the rainbow including black which indicated a bone bruise, you’d have pain and the look to go with it for weeks. Shane had given you a remorseful look as you zipped up your pants and buckled your belt frustratedly.

“Y/N,” he whispered cautiously and you quickly gawked at him only to see him point at your arms. You reluctantly shifted your gaze over to your forearms to see redness around your wounds and what looked to be blisters. You had a damn infection and would start coughing and catching a fever soon. What in the hell were you going to do now?

A sudden snap of a twig pulled you out of your worried thoughts and so you motioned for Shane to hand you back your weapon as you pushed Carl a little behind you, stopping to hear for anything else. Rick had pointed to where the noise came from, so you slowly moved forward with caution. Once you saw Rick stop, you followed his line of sight to see a deer coming through the clearing where you stood, sniffing for food.

Shane went to aim, but you and Rick both muttered his name and nodded to Carl who was intrigued by the creature as he approached closer with a smile plastered on his face. You grinned seeing the first animal you’d seen since the world went to shit, this was the best moment to bare witness to. Everything seemed so eerie with death and Sophia missing, but this… this was what made fighting that much worth it.

You continued to stare with curiosity with a hand on your hip with your bad leg stretched to the side as Carl itched closer and closer with each step. The three of you had exchanged wondering looks, but the lively expressions never left your faces. You heard a twig lightly break under Carl’s feet and the deer brought it’s attention over to the source, gawking at the little boy. The moment of the two of them having a staring contest seemed to have gone on for minutes when in reality it only went on for seconds and within those seconds a piercing shot rang out and you saw the deer right along with Carl fall to the ground with a thud.

_____________________________________

Thank you for reading! What did you think of this part? Any feedback is much appreciated and I would love to hear your thoughts, criticism, suggestions, etc! If you’d like to be tagged or removed, don’t hesitate to let me know!

Taglist: @jodiereedus22 @sourwolf-sterek32 @jll72-blog @mtngirlforever @haleypearce @nikkipea @sombra--speaks @kararanae23 @bunnymother93 @holyn0vak @myshakespeareandarling @million-dollar-milkshake @thatsoragan @firehoopinmama @mummy-woves-you @sheebthezeeb @j-a-val @filleinterrupted @gruffle1 @lonewolf471 @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @gabbygurrl @burningsorr0ws @siren-queen03 @peakybinders @spaghettyrogers

137 notes · View notes

darks-ink · 5 years

Text

Disinterred CH.12

Chapter 12: And You Will See Me Now

She wondered if his lack of self-preservation was a ghost thing, or if Danny had always been like that. Because she could very easily imagine him getting himself killed, doing things like this.

(Tumblr hates links and I want this to appear in the tags so… for author notes/full fic summary/links to the other chapters/mirror links to AO3 and FFnet, click here)

The ghost scanner went off, and Valerie barely restrained a groan. She had really hoped to work on her homework for once.

Briefly she considered just leaving the ghost to Phantom. Her talk with Danny, combined with her talk with Phantom a little over a week ago, had settled her mind on the ghost boy. She had grown increasingly convinced that he wasn’t as malevolent as she had previously assumed. And so she was sure she could trust him to protect the city.

But then she caught the reading of her scanner. One fairly strong ghost nearby, with another approaching quickly. Her scanner made quick work of determining the first one: Skulker, a hunter-type ghost who regularly haunted Amity.

She didn’t need her tech to tell her that the second was Phantom, racing over from wherever he was when he wasn’t fighting.

Sure, Phantom could probably handle this himself. But Skulker had made it to Elmerton, where people weren’t quite as used to fleeing from ghost attacks. And the hunter had a bad habit of firing missiles and other weaponry, which were dangerous for onlookers.

Before she had fully considered it, Valerie had suited up and launched herself out of her window. If anything, this would be a good opportunity to offer Phantom another truce. A more permanent one, maybe. They had worked together against Skulker before, after all.

It wasn’t hard to find the fight. In the slowly decreasing light, the flashes of bright green were easy to spot. Apparently Phantom had made it to Skulker before her. Valerie wondered for a moment how quickly Phantom could fly, but dismissed the thought almost immediately. She had to focus on the fight.

Skulker was focused entirely on Phantom, who was zipping through the sky, dodging shots. Neither of them had seen Valerie approach. She smirked to herself, and quietly readied a gun. What kind of shitty hunter didn’t watch their environment?

The pink blast hit Skulker in the wing, badly damaging it and causing him to falter mid-air. His shots went wide, giving Phantom a chance to break away as well.

“Who-!” the metallic ghost whirled around, readying his gun to shoot Valerie back. She kept her stance steady, ready to dart out of the way if he fired.

And then a green blast hit Skulker’s other wing.

“Hey tin can, don’t forget about me!” Phantom jeered, as another blast was building up in his hand.

Skulker growled wordlessly, unable to keep an eye on both enemies at once. Apparently he decided that Phantom was the bigger threat, however, since he fired his shot at the other ghost. Phantom, in turn, dodged effortlessly.

Valerie fired another shot into Skulker’s back to teach him for forgetting about her.

“You little-” the ghost started, but he never got to finish as Phantom landed another blast, this time hitting Skulker’s neck. A dreadful snap sounded, and suddenly Skulker’s body went limp as his head disconnected.

Phantom zipped in and caught the head, as Valerie froze in shock. Sure, maybe ghosts didn’t work the same way as humans, but she had never seen Phantom do anything this ruthless. He decapitated another ghost!

And to make matters worse, the ghost boy stuck his hand inside the neck of the other ghost. What the fuck was he doing?

“Ah ha!” Phantom exclaimed, pulling his hand back and dropping the metal head.

And in his hand was… another ghost? Small and green and squirmy, it was clearly trying to escape from the teenage ghost holding it.

“Let go of me!” it yelled, its voice strangely high-pitched. “Let go of me, whelp! I am Skulker! Ghost Zone’s greatest hunter!”

Oh. That was… an unexpected twist. Maybe she had judged Phantom a little too quickly. Again.

“Yeah, yeah.” Phantom looked as bored as he sounded. With the hand that had previously been holding the head, he grasped the Thermos strapped to his belt. “Just get in the Thermos already.”

And then in a flash the squirmy ghost was gone. Phantom lowered himself to the ground, and sucked the body (suit?) up as well. And then he turned to look at her.

“Hey Red, thanks for the help. He didn’t hit you, right?”

“Uh, no.” She lowered herself a little as well, and watched as Phantom came up to her level again. “He was too focused on you to fire at me.”

Phantom apparently picked up on her silent distress, because he frowned at her. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just...” She wasn’t sure what to say. How do you tell a ghost that you thought that it violently attacked and decapitated another ghost?

“You didn’t know that it was just a suit, did you?” Phantom laughed. He laughed. “Don’t worry, I had a similar reaction the first time I saw his suit get wrecked.”

“Oh.” Valerie slumped in a little, relieved. “How come I never noticed before, then?”

“Coincidence, I think.” Phantom shrugged, clipping the Thermos back onto his belt. “I usually try to destroy the suit instead of sucking it up, so he’ll take longer to come back. But we’re in the middle of the city, and sometimes he packs them with explosive weaponry. Don’t want to risk causing unnecessary damage.”

“That… makes sense.”

Valerie allowed the silence to linger for a moment. Then she remembered her intentions to make up for her earlier behavior towards Phantom.

“Actually, I, uh. Wanted to talk to you.”

“Again?” Phantom questioned, quirking a brow at her. “Is it related to you helping me fight Skulker instead of shooting me down as well?”

Valerie grimaced, glad that her helmet hid her expressions from the ghost. “Uh, yeah. I… was wrong about ghosts. About you.”

“Really?” Phantom grinned at her, a genuine smile on his face. Valerie wasn’t sure if she had ever seen the ghost with a smile that wasn’t shit-eating or a smirk before… but she kind of liked it.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “And… I’m sorry. For, y’know, shooting you. And blaming you for everything that has happened to me.”

“You don’t know how much that means to me.” But Valerie was pretty sure she did know. Phantom’s expression was a pretty clear indicator. He would’ve made a pretty terrible poker player. Or actor, for that matter. Why did she ever think otherwise?

But then the ghost sighed, closing off again. “And I would love to talk about it more. But...” He glanced upwards, at the steadily darkening sky. “I have somewhere I need to be. Can we… meet up again? Tomorrow, maybe?”

Valerie blinked, surprised. She hadn’t expected him to forgive her this easily. Heavens know she wouldn’t have, if she had been in his shoes.

“Uh, sure? When, and where?”

Phantom shrugged. “Somewhere private, definitely. And after you’re done with school?”

“The abandoned warehouses near the docks, then?” And then her brain processed the second part of his sentence, and her expression darkened. “Wait a minute, how do you know when I’m done with school?”

Phantom snorted. “I spend a lot of time near the school because ghosts keep attacking it, so I have a pretty good idea when people get out. And I can wait for you at the docks, you can find me with your scanner, right?”

“That’s… fair.” He was right, of course. Ghosts attacked the school constantly. Even if Phantom stayed away outside of attacks, which she kind of doubted, he still would’ve picked up on their schedules. “So the warehouses, after school?”

“Yeah,” Phantom agreed, with a nod. Then he glanced at the sky again and grimaced. “And I really gotta get going. See you tomorrow, Red.”

And with a short wave he launched himself away, racing upwards and towards Amity. Valerie watched him go, but soon lost track of him.

He could definitely out-fly her hoverboard.

Valerie’s hoverboard hummed quietly as she flew towards the docks. She wasn’t going very fast, instead using the quiet time to think.

The whole day, her meeting with Phantom had hung over her. She couldn’t predict him, didn’t know what he wanted or why.

She had also spend more time with Danny. She wanted to make sure that he was okay, that no one was bothering him. She couldn’t imagine being a ghost, and she definitely couldn’t imagine having to live with such rumors. She was sure she would’ve gone crazy the first week, if it had been her.

Hanging with Danny… was surprisingly nice. Sam and Tucker were with him, of course, as usual. But for once, they weren’t hostile to her.

And she understood why they had been, of course. They all knew that she was a ghost hunter, and Danny was a ghost. They were simply trying to protect their friend.

Their friend, who very stupidly befriended a ghost hunter.

She wondered if his lack of self-preservation was a ghost thing, or if Danny had always been like that. Because she could very easily imagine him getting himself killed, doing things like this.

But she appreciated it. Danny was a fantastic friend, unlike her ‘friends’ from the A-List. And Sam and Tucker were clearly warming up to her as well, now that she was protecting Danny’s secret too.

Valerie broke out of her thoughts at the sound of her ghost scanner. She had arrived at the docks already, and her scanner had picked up Phantom’s presence. She followed the trail to one of the abandoned warehouses.

Hovering over the somewhat rickety roof, Valerie didn’t have to wait long for Phantom to show. He faded into visibility almost instantly, posture only slightly tense.

“Hey Val,” Phantom greeted her, a soft smile on his face. She squashed her automatic response, which was to reprimand him for using her name, and instead smiled back. Then she remembered that she was wearing a helmet, and retracted it back into her suit.

“No plans to get to today?”

“Nothing for the moment.” Phantom shrugged. Then he lowered himself, his white boots soundlessly touching down on the roof. “Well, besides this, of course.”

“Right.” Valerie made to follow his example, but took another look at the roof and decided against it. Instead she disengaged the locks on her boots and sat down on the board. “So, Phantom… How do you feel about a truce?”

“Pretty good,” Phantom said, his smile widening. “Although I wouldn’t mind working together more often, either. We made a pretty good team against Skulker yesterday.”

“True.” But there were complications with that plan. Things that Phantom clearly hadn’t considered, being a ghost and all. “And I don’t mind working together, but… I have a busy life, Phantom. I can’t go out and hunt ghosts all day, y’know?”

Phantom’s smile fell some, and he sighed. “No, I get it. But we can work together without actually fighting together. Share responsibility over the weaker ones, and work together to fight the stronger ghosts.”

“That… could work.” But she would prefer it if Phantom took care of all the weak ghosts. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do, and she had work and school to focus on. “But Phantom… I have other responsibilities too. I’m already doing bad enough in school as-is.”

“And I’m not?” Phantom retorted with a frown, crossing his arms.

What? But he couldn’t… Phantom couldn’t go to school, could he? Even if the ghosts have some sort of school in the Ghost Zone, Phantom spent too much time in the regular world to attend. And he couldn’t go to a human school either. Although he is very human in appearance, he has also become far too recognizable.

Unless… he uses some sort of disguise? But the only school near Amity Park is Casper High, and a disguise wouldn’t protect Phantom from her scanners.

But Phantom sighed and snapped her out of her thoughts again. “Sorry. You’re right, you do have more responsibilities than me.” He had turned away from her, but she could see the tense lines of his muscles. Or, what passed as his muscles. She wasn’t sure if ghosts had them.

“Wait, hang on. What did you mean? Are you… saying that you go to school too?”

Phantom turned back to face her again, frown still on his face. Or again, maybe. She couldn’t be sure.

“I- Yeah.” He unfolded his arms, then started rubbing the back of his neck. The gesture was familiar to Valerie, but she couldn’t immediately place it. “I kind of… wanted to talk about that, too.”

“How so?” She was still studying him, trying to place where she had seen that neck rubbing before.

But before she figured it out, Phantom dropped his hand again. “I’ll… show you. It’s easiest.”

“Show me what, Phantom?” She was getting worried now. What did he want to tell her about that would be easier to show her? How could that be anything but bad?

A spark burst from Phantom’s waist, suddenly, and Valerie almost fell off her board in surprise. She was about to reengage her helmet again, but then she saw that it wasn’t an attack.

Instead, the spark had extended, forming a bright circle of light around Phantom. Then the ring wavered and split in two. The two halos swept across his body, revealing… surprisingly normal clothes. Bare arms.

No ghostly glow.

Phantom had closed his eyes, but when the upper ring passed his hair and dyed it black instead of white… Valerie didn’t need to see his eyes to know their color.

Almost cruelly, her mind took this moment to remind her that when Phantom had first told the media his name… he had included a first name.

He had dubbed himself Danny Phantom.

And now Danny Fenton opened his eyes, looking at her with a mixture of doubt and hope. And Valerie… didn’t know what to think. Felt overcome by all these revelations.

The boy, her friend, smiled sheepishly at her. Raised his hand to rub the back of his neck again.

“Danny,” she whispered, finally. She wasn’t sure what emotions her voice carried, because she didn’t even know which ones she felt.

“Yeah...” he said, nodding slightly. “It’s me. Has been, from the start.” His smile had dropped, but he continued to rub the back of his neck.

“But why? Wait. How?” She tried not to bite out her answers, but her distress made her snappier than usual. Danny must’ve realized, because he didn’t even flinch. Either that, or he had gotten used to her being angry at him.

“I… It’s a long story.” He finally dropped the hand, offering her a shrug. “But long story short, I’m kind of… only half ghost? Phantom is what I actually look like as a ghost. But my core stays in human form, so ghost hunting equipment can pick it up, if it’s strong enough.”

“You’re… half ghost?” Her tone was incredulous, but it couldn’t possibly convey the extend to which she felt it. Surely… he can’t be only half of a ghost? Maybe he was some sort of shapeshifting ghost. Those existed, she knew.

“Yeah. Didn’t realize it at the start, but I kind of… defy the rules of regular ghosts.” He huffed out a breath. “Not that we knew that, of course, so we just thought I died.”

Valerie frowned. “Who is this ‘we’?”

“Sam, Tucker, and I. We were together when I had my accident.” He stayed silent for a moment before he shook his head, like he was shaking off his thoughts. “And everybody else who knows thought I was a full ghost too. Jazz, and… Well, I guess my parents don’t really count, since they were told that I was a ghost, without the connection to Phantom.”

“Wait, your parents didn’t know?” Valerie knew that Danny’s parents weren’t all that good at hunting ghosts, but not to realize that their own son was one… Or, well, half of one, if he was telling the truth.

“Nope,” Danny confirmed, smiling a little. “Like I’ve said before, they couldn’t catch a ghost if it was living under their roof.”

“Oh my god, Danny,” Valerie groaned, burying her head in her hands. “How can you joke about this? Why wouldn’t you tell them?”

“Jazz says it’s a coping mechanism.” Danny’s grin widened, then fell a little. “As for your second question… Well, would you tell your ghost hunting parents that you died and became a ghost?”

“No, I guess not.” Valerie’s shoulders sagged as she lifted her head again. “So I’m guessing that that canine wrecking ball really wasn’t your dog? Because I highly doubt you could’ve kept that thing away from your parents.”

“Cujo? Nah, he’s his own dog.” Danny grimaced a little. “He kept coming to me though. I think because I was the only other ghost around. Wanted me to help find his toy.”

“If he wanted his toy, why did he keep coming back to Axion Labs?” Valerie crossed her arms, sending a mild glare at Danny.

“Because that’s where his toy was, Val.” Danny rolled his eyes. “He used to be a guard dog, I think. He was trained and he was wearing an Axion Labs tag on his collar. After I got him his toy during the second break-in he left, and now he usually stays in the Zone.”

“Oh.” Valerie uncrossed her arms again, studying the boy in front of her. He said that he wasn’t fully a ghost, but she wasn’t sure if she believed that. On the other hand, if his parents believed it, maybe there was some truth to it. What did he say again? That he defied the rules of regular ghosts?

“How did you convince your parents that you weren’t a full ghost?”

“Huh?” Danny asked, startled. Apparently he hadn’t expected her to go back to that topic. “Oh, uh. Regular ghosts don’t need to breathe or eat, and they don’t have a heartbeat.” He shrugged. “There’s more, of course, but those are the basic things.”

That… made sense. She had seen some ghosts breathe before, but they usually stopped if they dropped their human disguise. Phantom, however, she had definitely seen breathing. At the time she had thought that it was part of his plan to fool the town on how ‘human’ he was… But he really was human. Or partly, at least.

“Can I…” she trailed off before she finished her sentence, uncertainly holding out a hand. Danny understood anyway, since he held out of own hand, angling it so she could easily grasp his wrist.

She called her armored gauntlets back, gently holding Danny’s wrist in one hand and putting down the bare fingers of the other. The heartbeat that greeted her was slow, slower than normal for a human… But it was strong. Steady. Undeniable, despite the cold of Danny’s flesh.

Valerie didn’t know what to say. What to think. What to do. It was like it was Danny’s sole goal in life to constantly throw everything in her life upside-down.

But… it had always ended up better for his involvement. Sure, being poor sucked, but she never would’ve made friends with Danny otherwise. Would never have started hunting ghosts.

She let go of his hand again, and patted the spot next to her on the hoverboard. Danny took the silent cue, and sat down next to her.

“So. Now what?”

Valerie huffed out a laugh. “You’ve asked that already. And my answer stays the same.” She offered him a shaky smile, but one she poured as much of her heart into as she could. “We’re friends, Danny. Anything I could’ve blamed you for, you’ve already made up for.”

“Oh. That’s… good.” Danny sat back, leaning on his hands. “I’m glad to hear so. I was… worried.”

“That I would be upset?” She couldn’t blame him. She had the unfortunate habit of getting angry before thinking things through. “I mean, I am, a little. But you did nothing wrong. I would’ve done the same, I think.”

Then she shoved him a little, laughing. “Actually, no I wouldn’t. Because I definitely wouldn’t have risked my own skin dating a ghost hunter who hated my ghost half.”

Danny looked a little startled at the shove, but then barked out a laugh. “Yeah, Sam and Tucker were pissed about that.”

“I can imagine that. They’re pretty protective of you, and apparently for good reasons.” That boy would’ve gotten himself killed without the two of them, she was sure. Although he had apparently gotten himself halfway there despite their presence. “Guess you’ll just need another bodyguard.”

“Yeah,” Danny agreed, nodding. Then he stopped, suddenly. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“Well, Sam and Tucker are no doubt great at protecting you against human threats, but you need a hand with ghostly threats as well.” She smirked at him. “So I’m offering my services.”

“Yeesh, don’t let them hear you. Sam and Tucker have helped me with countless ‘ghostly threats’ before, you know.” His tone was reprimanding, but the smile on his face conveyed the underlying joke. “But like I said earlier, I wouldn’t mind a hand with patrolling and ghost fighting.”

Valerie nodded and held out her hand. “That’s a deal then, Mr. Phantom.”

Danny rolled his eyes but took her hand anyway. “Definitely. Want to go for a quick patrol right now?”

“You got it.” Valerie grinned as her helmet formed again, before pushing herself upright. The soles of her shoes locked back on the hoverboard with clearly audible clicks.

Danny had jumped off of the board, light washing over him as he dropped down. When Valerie had blinked the dots from her vision again, Phantom floated next to her.

“Ready?” he asked, his normal smirk on his face.

She didn’t answer him, instead shooting off into the sky. Danny yelped but was quick to follow her.

A speaker crackled to life, and the conversation Danny had been having with Sam and Tucker instantly quieted. Principal Ishiyama’s voice suddenly filled the hallways.

“Students, there is a mandatory school assembly during the first class. Attendance will be checked.” The silence lingered for a moment before she repeated the message, and then the crowd started talking again.

“Wonder what that was about,” Tucker mumbled, eyes locked on his PDA.

Danny finished packing his backpack and groaned. “I’ve got the uncanny feeling that it’s about me, somehow.”

“That would be just your luck, yeah.” Sam patted him on the shoulder comfortingly. “And you’ve definitely jinxed it now.”

Danny groaned again, but allowed himself to be distracted by Valerie, who was making her way over to them.“Hey Val,” he greeted her when she was close enough.

“Hey Danny, Sam, Tucker.” She offered them a smile. “You guys know what that assembly is about?”

“Knowing Danny’s luck, it’ll be about him.” Tucker still hadn’t looked up from his PDA. Honestly, what was he even doing on that thing?

“Geez, no wonder you’ve formed such a protective squad.” Valerie grinned, crossing her arms. “I guess even powerful ghosts can be felled by bad luck, huh?”

“Story of my life,” Danny agreed, also grinning. “Also, speaking of my protective squad… Sam?”

“Right.” Sam straightened herself out, then turned to Valerie with a smirk on her face. “Valerie Gray, Red Huntress of Amity Park… Welcome to Team Phantom.”

“Yeah, welcome to the shitshow.” Tucker looked up from his PDA to shoot her a shit-eating grin. Danny considered stealing his PDA as punishment but decided against it. Knowing Tucker, he probably had another on him somewhere.

“You- Team Phantom?” Valerie looked as baffled as she sounded, which was very baffled.

“Well, Jazz suggested the Ghost Getters so…” Danny shrugged. “Team Phantom worked better for us.”

“And-” Sam leaned on Danny’s shoulder, smirk widening. “-the whole point is to keep this guy from getting himself killed.”

“I see.” Now Valerie smiled. “I- Thanks. I’ll do my best.”

Before they could say more, however, the bell rung.

Danny grimaced. “Guess we better head to the assembly.”

“Yeah.” Tucker stuffed his PDA in one of his many pockets. “Anyone wanna take bets on the topic?”

They started heading towards the gym, the only location big enough for the entire school.

Valerie scoffed. “No thanks. Knowing what I do now, I definitely agree that it’ll be about Danny somehow.”

“This is gonna be the death of me,” he groaned. The others didn’t respond beyond rolling their eyes as they made their way through the crowds.

Soon they had found themselves spots, sitting in a straight row. Sam on one end, followed by Tucker, then Danny, and finally Valerie on the other end.

Principal Ishiyama walked up to the stand, tapping the microphone to silence the gathered crowd. As soon as they hushed, she spoke.

“Students. We, the faculty of Casper High, have an important announcement.”

The silence lingered as Ishiyama took a fortifying breath. She looked down, at either her hands or a note, before finally eyeing the crowd of teenagers.

“As we all know, a body was found near Amity Park. The police have recently finished their investigations, although they have not released any information to the public. Despite the lack of proper facts, or perhaps because of it, rumors have started spreading regarding this case. We have no clearance to speak about this case in particular. However...”

She paused again, hesitating in a way that was rather uncharacteristic for her.

“However, we can confirm that a ghost is among our students. We have known for almost a month. The decision to allow them to stay at Casper High was not made lightly, and we have determined that they are no threat to their fellow students. We will not tell you who this student is, and we ask you that if you do know, to treat them with the same respect as any other.”

She folded her hands, staring out across the crowd.

“That was all. Thank you for your time, students. Please return to your normal classrooms, so classes may pick up as soon as possible.”

And Principal Ishiyama disappeared off-stage again, as the teenagers started making their way out of the gym as well.

Tucker elbowed Danny with a grin. “You definitely jinxed it.”

“Good thing that I didn’t take that bet.” Valerie shouldered her backpack and stood up. “You were definitely right about his luck.”

“Thanks,” Danny deadpanned, also getting up. “I swear, there’s gotta be some sort of ghostly deity of fate that hates me.”

“Why a ghostly deity?” Valerie asked as she led the group towards their first class.

“Because we already met the one that controls time.” Tucker wiggled an eyebrow at her as he joined her at the front of their group. “Danny may or may not have picked a fight with him.”

“To be fair,” Danny leaned in a little closer so they wouldn’t be overheard in the busy hallways, “Clockwork started it. And it all worked out in the end.”

Valerie groaned, pressing her hand to her face in distress. “You’re joking. Danny, how?”

“Long story,” he explained with a shrug. “I can tell you later, if you really want to know.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. Because you’ve still got a lot of explaining to do, Fenton.” But she offered him a warm smile anyway, and he grinned back.

“Of course Val. Of course.”

#danny phantom #phanfic #phanfiction #dp fanfic #dp fanfiction #dark writes #disinterred #listen i'm just real heckin tired and i wanna sleep #it's almost 11pm and i've spend my entire day watching movies #including 3 hours of movie through my own glasses AND 3d glasses #my eyes are so tired that letters barely look like letters anymore #also! this chapter rounded of the current arc of disinterred #next chapter introduces the last 2 characters and also the last arc! exciting

24 notes · View notes

seijuurouxryuu · 5 years

Text

Thirst

Title: Thirst Author: Shiro (TeitoxAkashi [AO3]/ seijuurouxryuu [tumblr]) Rating: T Pairing: Reborn/ Ricardo Event: @khrrarepairweek Prompts: First Date/ Blind Date | HP AU Tags/Warnings: No Archive Warning, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Day 2: Sky Day

Why, of all things, must Giotto be so bothered about his love life? Heck why must anyone be a busybody about his love life? His parents, his uncle, his guardians, Giotto, Giotto’s guardians, why are they so nosy?!

And why, of all people, must it be Giotto?!

A BLIND DATE OF ALL THINGS?!

For once, Ricardo wished for long canines to rip Giotto’s neck off since curses wouldn’t do anything.

AND A MUGGLE!

AO3

Ricardo sneered at his cousin, Giotto, who cheerily pulled him a muggle café. He was very, very tempted to hex his stupid hair into dust. If only his wand wasn’t confiscated. (“I agreed, so why must you take my wand?!” “As if I’m stupid enough to let you keep your wand just so you can turn the other person into a rat.” “I’ll turn you into a rat, you stupid troll.”)

“Don’t put up such a sour face! You’ll scare him away.”

“Even better.” Ricardo seethed. Why, of all things, must Giotto be so bothered about his love life? Heck why must anyone be a busybody about his love life? His parents, his uncle, his guardians, Giotto, Giotto’s guardians, why are they so nosy?!

And why, of all people, must it be Giotto?!

A BLIND DATE OF ALL THINGS?!

For once, Ricardo wished for long canines to rip Giotto’s neck off since curses wouldn’t do anything.

AND A MUGGLE!

Ricardo was still cursing up a storm inside him as he glared daggers at Giotto. If only looks could kill, Giotto would have been dead a thousand times. Giotto dragged him into the café—Arcobaleno?—and started looking around, searching. He looked at ease, as though he had ventured to the café more than once already. He probably did, that stupid nerd.

Ricardo scoffed, couldn’t help but look around the place out of habit. He had to say, however, that the place was really nice. Homey. A point for the muggles, he guessed. “Ah—” Ricardo bristled at Giotto’s sudden sound. ‘Oh no—’ “Reborn!”

Then his face morphed into disbelief at the name. Why Reborn of all names?

Then his eyes widen.

Then he almost gaped—almost.

Near the window where the sun shone through, warming and lighting up the café, sat a man with fedora in black, pressed suit, drinking a cup of coffee. Tall and slender, yet muscular enough that Ricardo knew he can easily crush someone with his biceps. With the ray of light shining down on him, he looked like an angel—no, a demon with a pair of wings. Reborn looked up and saw them, and for the short moment Ricardo’s eyes met those pair of dark orbs, he knew he was doomed.

“Yo.” Reborn greeted—drawled, as Giotto pulled the stunned-dumb Ricardo to the table, pushing him onto the chair opposite of Reborn and plopped down in between, that stupid lightbulb troll.

“Sorry for making you wait! My cousin was making up a fuss for dragging him out of his bat cave.” Ricardo hissed and stomped on Giotto’s leg, unwillingly flushing. “Oh?” Reborn sounded amused as he smiled at Ricardo. “I’d like to see the bat cave someday, to see if Bruce Wayne is in there.”

“Why?” Ricardo managed to choke out, throat dry, not knowing if Reborn was messing with him or he was serious. Reborn chuckled. “To punch him, of course, for not getting together with Superman.”

Oh, merlin. Reborn was flirting with him! “Well you can come and punch him.” The moment those words left Ricardo’s mouth he screeched like a banshee inside. Reborn’s eyes glinted at that. Apparently, it was the right thing to say. Which was surprising and delightful because as far as Ricardo knew and as far as the disapproving look Giotto was shooting him, it wasn’t.

“I’m Reborn. Nice to meet you.” Reborn reached a hand over and Ricardo quickly grasp it, shaking it while secretly feeling him up. His hands were calloused, the same was as Ricardo’s, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It told a lot about what Reborn did for living, but Ricardo couldn’t pinpoint what. It wasn’t like he knew much of muggle’s job, anyway.

“Ricardo.” He had to clear his voice a few times, reluctantly pulling his hand away when Reborn’s firm grip relaxed, mourning at the lost. “Nice to meet you too.”

“So,” Reborn’s head tilted, giving him another look-over. “A policeman?” Ricardo did a double-take at the question. Policeman? Of all muggle-job? Well, Ricardo supposed? His position in the magic world is similar to a policeman, no doubt, but still. Still.

“No—” Giotto stomped at his feet, to which he snarled back at his cousin. “Well—yes, I supposed.”

A glint flashed through Reborn’s eyes, sort of wary towards him and his cousin. “You don’t really look like one.”

Because he really wasn’t one??

“He gets that a lot.” Giotto interrupted, laughing. “He looked like a murderer instead, am I right?” Reborn raised an eyebrow, lips tugged up. “A hot one.” Giotto immediately wheezed loudly that it sounded like his lungs punctured while Ricardo was stunned frozen.

“Merlin—”

Reborn just smirked.

“A policeman.”

“Well—”

“Reborn, really. A policeman.”

“Hey, you have to blame Giotto on that.”

“You could’ve just—reject it!”

“Or not. He’s hot.”

“I’m done.”

Their first date, wasn’t exactly a first date. Ricardo was actually tailing a wizard—a wanted wizard—when he bumped into Reborn, who was tailing a mafia man. The both of them were surprised and long story short, they decided to pair up together. Because both their targets are in a ball, and they both lack of a partner for entry. So, why the heck not?

Oh, and did Ricardo mention that Reborn was actually cross-dressing as a woman?

The man was wearing a tight black dress with open back, long enough to sweep the floor. He was wearing a wig as well, but Ricardo recognized him immediately because of his cute curly sideburn. He was so gorgeous that Ricardo was stunned stupid yet again.

When the walked into the ballroom and despite donning a blank face, Ricardo was panicking inside. He had to do breathing exercises to calm himself down at the exposed back he was holding and how Reborn was pressing against him, looping a hand over his arm.

As they walked, he noticed that he was slightly taller than Reborn a little. And Reborn was wearing heels, which meant that Reborn was shorter than him by a few inches! Cute!!

Ricardo kept chanting ‘calm down’ in his heart as he swept his eyes through the crowd, easily picking out the wanted-wizard while wondering if he should cast a spell on Reborn for a short moment to catch the asshole and tossing him straight into Azkaban via teleportation spells. Or maybe Giotto’s office just to mess with him. Reborn was the same, cunning eyes locking onto his target as he chattered nonsense with Ricardo. He was trying to distract him plus planning how to ditch him halfway to take the head. (If things go well, he might even get a night with him, Reborn licked his lips.)

Why, of all times, must they meet each other now?

Just as a waiter passed by, Reborn swiftly plucked off two red wine from the tray and handed one to Ricardo. He twirled the cute, curly sideburn of his, smirking at Ricardo, his every action attracted Ricardo’s attention.

“I didn’t ask, but I’m too curious. Is there a criminal in the room, Mr Policeman?” He drawled the last part, playful and teasing but not without the small, tiny murderous glint in his eyes. If Ricardo showed any indication that he was here for him, or anything that would push Reborn into the public political eyes or whatsoever, he would kill him. Reborn had decided that since he started planning on hooking Ricardo.

But if he wasn’t, however, Reborn would happily feign that everything was fine, even though it would probably bite him back in the ass.

Ricardo, not fully registering the dripping poison, nodded. His eyes dilated slightly as he stared at Reborn, entranced. If he didn’t remember that he was still on duty, he would’ve probably drop kneel in front of Reborn and beg him for—for what, Ricardo didn’t know.

“A runaway.”

Reborn’s eyes narrowed a little before he relaxed, smiling. “Ah.”

“What about you?” Was Ricardo’s attempt to keep the conversation going, which was already a huge effort seeing that he would just ditch talking altogether if he could. The dangerous look appeared again for a split second. “Hmn, I’m hunting.” Reborn hummed, leaning back slightly as he sipped on the wine, arms crossed and back straight.

He was too beautiful, too graceful, too—

Bewitching.

“Oh?”

“Uhum.” Ricardo swallowed, throat parched. He downed the wine and forced himself to look away, hand trembling so slightly that he himself didn’t notice. Just as he scanned through the room briefly again, he spotted his wanted-wizard.

He squinted, and frowned, which attracted Reborn’s attention who had turned to the same direction. There, he spotted his target. He raised an eyebrow. His target was considered a runaway criminal. So, was he who Ricardo was tailing? Reborn hoped not because otherwise, he would have to fight Ricardo to kill him, and Reborn didn’t want to fight him under this circumstance, though he probably wouldn’t mind it after they finished everything.

“Is that him, your man?” He casually-not-casually asked. “The one with gaudy white suit and pink tie?”

Ricardo’s gaze switched to the one standing next to his target. “Not my man,” Was his first answer, out of reflex or what, he didn’t know. “And no.”

Reborn hummed, smiling against the wine glass. “Good.”

Ricardo twitched. “He’s yours, then?” He asked, but not without heat or jealousy that started boiling inside. It almost overflowed when Reborn nodded, sparks and electricity tingling on the tip of his fingers. He almost—almost—set himself on fire, something that he had not done since his teen years, at the thought of Reborn being together with someone else.

Then he noticed the bloodthirsty look that Ricardo was so familiar with, not on Reborn but on himself.

‘Ah.’ The flame in him quieted down, not fully extinguished, but calmed. He stared at the man’s face a little longer, drinking in the sight. Unbelievably, he fell deeper for the other. Unconsciously, he reached out and touched the other’s left cheek, skin paler than his hand. The eyes shifted their sight to him and sent electricity down his spine at how focused they were.

A smile played on Reborn’s beautiful lips.

They moved.

And Ricardo burned.

A dull thud against the wall followed by a groan echoed in the dim, silent room. Clothes rustled along with muffled moans, soft hums of appreciation and satisfaction. Calloused hands mapped the skin, caressed the scars, kissed the template.

Reborn gasped at a bite on his shoulder as he chuckled breathlessly, tugging Ricardo’s black hair and smirking at the grunt. “Eager, are we?”

Ricardo huffed and licked the wound, pushing the shorter man and kissing him in the mouth again. “I could say the same to you as well.” He grumbled. “And we haven’t even had a date.” Reborn laughed and tugged harder pulling him away from his face for a few more centimetres. His eyes glinted in heat and genuine interest as his lips tilted up, amused. “Old school.” He teased, but didn’t object it. “Tomorrow then.” He proposed.

Ricardo’s heart thumped at that, swelling in ecstasy. He kissed Reborn again and again. “Yes.” He managed, words slipping out of his mouth only to be captured by the other.

Reborn simply just pulled him closer.

Giotto looked at the paralyzed man covered in blood, wounds and—fur?—with disdain as he rang up G.

He was so not going to let Ricardo and Reborn meet during working hours

“And so you’re saying that you’re not ‘Active’ but is actually a wizard?”

A sigh. “For the nth times, yes.”

Laughter rang out. “A policeman! You’re such a bad liar.”

“I wasn’t the one who said that.”

A kiss. “Hmn, but you agreed. Anyways,” Rustles, shifts and groans. A whisper. “Show me your magic.”

A gunshot rang out in the air and piercing screams filled the air. Reborn clicked his tongue as the people around him ran, the guards pulling out their own gun as they worked together on evacuating the guests, protecting the host, and slowly advancing on the culprit. Who was apparently an amateur assassin. Who made a mistake by screwing a good mission up.

Like seriously, who the hell fires in open air with so many people around, much less without a silencer?!

Reborn wanted so badly to just punch some sense into that kid. He will, when all this shit was over.

On one hand, Reborn could just leave them to kill his target because Ricardo was beside him but on the other, his pride wouldn’t let him do such thing. That was his prey, goddammit. Stop. Trying. To. Steal. His. Food! For fuck sake, he was so going to ask for more money. He was not payed enough.

Ricardo was holding onto his right hand tightly, glaring at the assassin who was panicking but stupidly determined to finish his job. Reborn was reminded yet again that he was a policeman—of sort—and cursed colourfully under his breath.

He had to separate from him.

Ricardo was muttering something under his breath, a hand slipped into his suit jacket and for a second, the thought of knocking the man out flashed through Reborn’s head. But he didn’t manage to do so when suddenly, a flash of light blasted towards them and the world tilted.

He was aware that Ricardo was still holding his hand tightly, and he was also aware that they were no longer where they stood a millisecond ago. Also that his dress had a rip in it now because of that stupid flash.

Ricardo turned to him with—with a wand in his hand and asked if he was alright, concerned even though their enemies were right in front of them… When did they—? What?

Then Ricardo’s eyes flashed in red and orange—oh, a sky—when he saw the rip in his dress. He growled under his breath and turned, glaring.

“Petrificus totalus!”

“…” Reborn blinked as Ricardo’s target turned so stiff that balance was no longer there and they fell flat faced onto the ground. It was funny. “If it wasn’t for the fact that Giotto wanted you alive, I’d have blasted you into bits and pieces.”

Ricardo turned to him and took off his jacket, placing it over Reborn’s shoulder, seemingly ignoring the stares from everyone around him as they stood in place, stunned shock. Not one was braved enough to advance forward. So much for being trained security. Reborn rolled his eyes at both Ricardo’s fusses and the sheer absurdity.

“You’ve a lot to explain, handsome.” He drawled, far too calm compared to his raging questions that rang in his head. (And oh god, was he so surprised by the sudden wand thing and stuff. It wasn’t dying will flames, oh no, it was something else. Something that tingles. Reborn didn’t doubt that he would’ve doubled over if he wasn’t so numbed at all the unexplainable shits that he had encountered.)

He pulled out his gun, strapped to his leg and pulled the trigger at his target, making sure to put more than enough flames into it and blasted the head into million bits and pieces. He then pulled once more, but this time it was aimed towards the stupid assassin. Fortunately for them, he did not blast them apart but merely shot them at their shoulder, making sure not to puncture the main arteries. “That’s how you kill someone, you waste of space.”

Ricardo snapped out of it and brought them—along with the wanted man—away.

A/N= As you all can see, I got lazy at the last part. I'm not gonna change anything else tho.

Giotto became the best wingman who regretted everything as both Ricardo and Reborn cause destruction in both the magic and muggle world. Tsuna who's only mentioned in this story wanted nothing but to punch Giotto.

Also everyone in the ball was obliviated except for Reborn because Ricardo wouldn't let them and the wizards and witches have to compromise or not only him but the mafia world controlled by Tsuna would descend on them and tear them apart. Okay I'm rambling.

[I apologize for any grammar, spelling, etc. etc. mistakes]

#Katekyo Hitman Reborn #KHR #khrrarepairweek2019 #Reborn #Ricardo #Vongola Secondo #RebornxRicardo #My Writings

10 notes · View notes