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poguesrforlife · 4 years

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Longing for You | JJ Maybank

Okay guys, here goes! First fic for outer banks with none other than my future husband JJ Maybank. God, look at him what a cutie!!!! <3

Requested: Nope

Trigger warning: Little bit smutty (mentions), foreshadowing of abuse but other than that a whole lot of good vibes only

Word count: >2k (went a bit over the top with that one oops)

Everybody in the pogues seems to be bood up except for JJ and Y/N which have been crushing on each other for ages but are too afraid to take the next step. Maybe some healthy competition will do the trick...

Waves crashing on the shore, warm sand under your feet and the summer sun shining while you sipped on a can of beer. You decided life could definitely be worse. It was just another summer day for you and your friends on the outer banks.

Kiara had worked on a killer mixtape the past weeks and you were currently enjoying her musical genius while relaxing on the beach.

John B was dancing with Sarah, the newest addition to your group, to some song from the Neighbourhood and you had to admit they were disgustingly cute together. The others were quite skeptical at first towards the kook princess, mostly because of Kiaras attitude towards her.

Back when Sarah and Kiara had broken things off you were the one to catch Kie and she introduced you to the other guys, which were quite happy to not only have Kiara back but also a new addition. Which honestly quite surprised you since you belonged partly to the kooks as well just like Kiara.

But you had to admit it, Sarah was the sweetest girl you’ve ever met besides Kie. And all in all your squad was more in synch with her. John B had Sarah and Kie and Pope had that weird thing, nobody talked about, going on and then there was JJ.

You had a crush on JJ since the first time you laid eyes on him. How could you not with his gorgeous blue eyes, blonde surfer hair and that charming humour of his.

But things with JJ would never happen, you knew each other too well. A little flirting here and there was to be expected when all the friends in your group had the hots for each other.

You wondered whatever happened to the no pogue on pogue macking rule.

“Who wants a hit?” JJ asked and pulled you out of your train of thoughts by offering his joint to the rest of the group.

Kie happily accepted and sighed with the first drag before handing it to you.

“I’m good thanks,” You declined and showed the beer can you were currently sipping on.

“Oh c’mon sweetheart a little blunt never hurt nobody,” JJ laughed and tried to encourage you. Pope just rolled his eyes at his remark.

“If I’m drinking it does though. Or need I remind you of last weekend when you were nearly passed out because you mixed it up and I had to drag your ass home?” You raised an eyebrow at JJ, recalling the events of the weekend before and watched him turn a deep red.

“Shots fired, bro!” John B. laughed as he took the joint from Kie’s hand and took a drag himself.

“Actually yes please do remind him because I don’t think he can remember a thing.” Pope grinned at his friend who got visibly more embarrassed.

And god you were glad JJ couldn’t remember a thing. Because the stuff he said to you that night weren’t things you wanted to get into. Sure, Kie had always sad that JJ had a thing for you but he never made a move. Only ever small flirtations or stupid things when he was drunk or high or both. And that wasn’t enough to risk your friendship.

“Oh it’s fine J Bae, happens to the best of us,” You winked at him and felt quite smug using your private nickname for him.

His cheeks were still a bit rosy but you saw a smile sneak on his lips when he looked at you.

“But not to Y/N apparently,” Sarah commented and saluted you with her own beer as soon as she nestled in between John B’s legs.

“Well not everybody can hold their liquor like Y/N,” Kie agreed and gave you wink. She knew well enough of some evenings where the both of you were too drunk to even walk a straight line.

“Oh c’mon, I can definitely drink more than Y/N!” JJ argued and got up, clearly in a mood to prove himself.

“You wanna bet?” You argued, biting you lower lip and leaned back in the sand while looking up at him through your lashes.

You saw JJ’s Adam’s apple pop as he swallowed hard looking down at you.

Sweet Jesus, he looked heavenly with the sun behind him surrounding him like a halo. More than anything you wished the two of you were alone so you could have your way with him.

“Guys if you drink all of our beer I’m gonna strangle you,” John B warned with his dad authority.

“Oh kinky, I like it,” JJ joked and gave JB a coy look.

You couldn’t help thinking if that would really be something JJ would be into but the thought quickly vanished when you remembered the bruises you had seen more than once all over his body when he came back from a few days home.

He never told you anything about it, just joked around but you were pretty sure there was something hidden below the surface.

“Who says they have to drink all the beer? Let them just chug one and see who’s faster.” For that argument from Pope he quickly got a slap on the arm from Kiara.

“Ouch, why?” He complained but Kiara just shook her head while you giggled at Pope’s obliviousness because she didn’t want to support JJ getting drunk once again.

“Fine by me.” JJ grinned at you and stretched out his hand to help you up.

You took his offer but as he pulled you up abruptly you stumbled a bit and were soon pressed against his chest.

His arm grabbed around your waist to steady you and shivers went down your spine at his touch. You looked up into his baby blue eyes and watched them wander all over your face before they landed on your lips.

“Not so steady after all, are we Y/L/N?” He whispered and his breath fanned your face, that’s how close you were. You also realised that your hands where on his naked chest.

Being this close to JJ did things to your body you couldn’t understand and it drove you absolutely crazy. You realised you were staring at him and the others were staring at the both of you so you tried to quickly regain your composure.

You moved one of your hands slowly up his body and around his neck as you pulled his head down.

“Eat shit, Maybank,” You whispered in his ear, grazing it lightly with your lips, before releasing him.

JJ’s smug smile from before was replaced with a slightly shocked and kind of aroused expression on his face. That gave you enough satisfaction for now, to know that you could have that kind of effect on him.

You thought you heard a little ‘fuck’ escape him when he turned around to get you two beers.

You looked over at the others who had all witnessed the little scene. Kie and Sarah gave you excited glances and thumbs up whereas the boys looked utterly confused and bewildered.

“Well let’s do this!” John B got up and clapped his hands together before standing in front of the both of you.

“I’ll count to 3 and then you start chugging and whoever finishes first has to put the empty can above their head to demonstrate it’s really empty.” He explained.

“Yeah, yeah we’ve got it, it’s not our first time,” JJ said impatiently and popped his beer open.

“You’re going down,” You warned the boy in front of you.

“On you? Anytime sweetheart,” He retorted with his usual charm and the thought alone threw you off a bit.

Concentrate Y/N, you’ve got this.

“1…2…3!” JB counted down and you began chugging while the others cheered. The carbonic acid made it hard for you to swallow fast but as JJ said this wasn’t your first time.

In 5 seconds you had downed your can and put it over your head where only a single drop fell onto your hair. You screamed with joy as you saw JJ finish just behind you.

“YES!” You shouted and did a little happy dance as JJ looked at you perplexed.

“You know, I’m not even mad that was seriously hot,” JJ admitted in defeat and bit his lower lip while he stared at you. Once again you wished the others would just leave right this second.

“Well I guess we know who’s more badass,” Kie commented and grinned at you.

“Hey just because Y/N can chug beer faster than any frat boy on spring break does not mean she’s more badass then me,” JJ pouted and tried to regain some of his lost pride.

The way he looked right now was just undermining his statement at the moment though since you couldn’t believe how cute he was.

“It does though,” You disagreed and patted his cheek lovingly. A smile quickly made its way onto his lips as he looked at you. More than anything you just wanted to kiss him.

Maybe it was the alcohol that made you think like that but you knew better than that. You had wanted JJ for ages now.

“I want a rematch,” JJ suddenly said and turned you around, his arm around your waist and his chest pressed against your back.

You had no idea where this confidence in touching you suddenly came from but you liked it.

His right arm sneaked across your shoulder and he pointed towards a cluster of rocks a few feet in the ocean.

“Whoever reaches the rocks first wins the grand badass competition between you and I,” He announced and giggled at his pompous accent.

“I don’t know how that proves that I’m more badass than you but sure,” You agreed, never one to back down from a challenge.

You were also pretty sure that JJ in his intoxicated state forgot that you were captain of the swim team and were usually working as a life-guard during summer. It was really not fair but there was no way you could let him win, he would never shut up about it.

“You guys, I swear just fuck already,” You heard John B murmur as he positioned himself between the two of you to give the start sign.

You chose to ignore his comment as you got ready but not before slipping out of your clothes and leaving you in the tiny swimsuit you were currently wearing.

You saw JJ stare out of the corner of your eye and heard Sarah whistle behind you which made you laugh.

“Wouldn’t want to ruin my clothes or slow me down,” You explained nonchalantly and watched as Kiara and Pope were getting out cash probably betting on the winner.

Once again John B counted down to three and you started sprinting into the water and swimming for your life. JJ was close you knew that, he was a fast runner and had an advantage the first feet.

But you couldn’t let yourself get distracted so you pushed yourself onto your very limits until you felt the rock under your hand and climbed on top of it.

JJ didn’t even come out of the water as he watched you, out of breath, as you victoriously waved to the others on the shore. From afar you could see that Pope gave Kiara his money with a sour gaze.

“Who’s more badass now, J Bae?” You laughed and sat down on the rocks in front of him and watched him swim in-between your legs.

“You distracted me, that wasn’t fair!” He argued and let his eyes wander over your body.

You felt hot all over as his gaze swept over you and at the view of his head between your legs.

“Distracted hm? Why would that be?” You giggled and leaned forward to jokingly grant him a better view. He inhaled sharply and realised he was staring at your boobs a little too late before his eyes drifted to yours.

“At least help me out of the water,” He pleaded and struck out his hands. But as you reached out for him and were about to hoist him up, he pulled you into the water with him.

You screamed because of the surprise and clung to JJ’s shoulders to hold onto something.

You don’t think the others on the beach even noticed as they went back to their own business and were distracted.

“You are insufferable!” You complained and got the wet hair out of your face as you clung to JJ with one arm and he had you secured with an arm around your waist.

You were definitely both sobered up by now, thanks to the cold water and exercise.

“Well, at least we know who’s stronger,” JJ commented and his second hand grabbed your waist as well.

You were practically naked, chest to chest and only the ocean between the both of you. The ocean and the fear of rejection as you looked between his lips and his eyes.

“I’m still more badass than you,” You giggled and your hands moved up his shoulders to his neck like the most natural thing in the world.

“Would you just shut up?” JJ grinned and pulled you even closer to him if that was possible.

“Make me!” Was the last thing you whispered before JJ’s lips crashed onto yours.

He wasn’t timid and didn’t hesitate but kissed you passionately like he had waited to do so for weeks and was finally allowed to. And you kissed him back just as feverishly as your hands tucked on his blond hair and your legs locked around his waist.

He bit your lower lip softly and a moan escaped your mouth which only made him grab you harder, one of his hands now on your butt.

Kissing JJ was igniting a wildfire, like the most dangerous and reckless thing in the world. But it also felt completely right, like the stars all had aligned just for that moment.

After a long time the both of you caught your breath and simply stared at each other.

“That was…” You began but couldn’t find the right words. How do you even describe the best kiss of your life?

“It was,” JJ agreed without you having to say anything, he understood. “So… I wouldn’t mind this becoming a regular thing.”

You looked at him shocked, not because you didn’t want it but because there were so many other things to think about.

“I wouldn’t either,” you agreed “but let this be our little secret for now. I don’t want to give the others the satisfaction of being right all along.” You could practically picture Kie’s little happy dance by mentioning this to her.

“Agreed!” JJ laughed and pecked you on the lips one last time before swimming back to shore.

You grinned the rest of the whole day and ever so often sneaked flirty little glances and touches with JJ that drove your heart crazy.

#jj maybank #jj fanfiction #jj imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj x reader #outer banks netflix #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #John b #john b routledge #kiara #pope heyward #sarah cameron #jj smut #jj fanfic #by poguesforlife

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hsmtmts-justsomewriting · 3 years

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Not to be your stereotypical second semester senior but EJ Caswell is a bit too busy to be thinking about sports metaphors...

(Alternative title- overcommitted..sounds like a Caswell)

Senior year was insanely busy. Being so overwhelmed EJ had been slowing down over the last couple weeks, but he was brushing it off just fine.

EJ has arrived late that day, which was unusual in itself, as he prides himself on being on time. Holding a half eaten packet of Oreos he shuffled into the rehearsal room slumping on the bleachers away from his chattering cast mates.

“EJ honey great you could join us, you’d think a senior couldn’t get lost in the halls!” Miss Jenn giggled at her own joke as the cast were suddenly alerted to the older boys presence. EJ absentmindedly nodded and grabbed out his script.

“Yeah...sorry..um...where are we at?”

“Page 63” “Cool... thanks”

Flipping to that part in the script, he looks up to take in the scene. Kourtney, Gina, Seb and Carlos are clearly half way through blocking a castle scene- Carlos complaining his arms are tired from ‘staying in character’, Kourtney and Seb working out where they are going to come in from and how to negotiate Sebs big box costume (although it’s proving very difficult considering the rehearsal room is about a quarter of the size of the stage) and Gina is animatedly discussing the scene choices with Miss Jenn.

Within an instant, EJ is startled from the scene as Natalie is beside him rambling something about ‘needing a fill in for cogworth’ ‘went home sick’. Sauntering up with his script, EJ’s vision goes spotted as he gets up from the bleachers. But as soon as it comes it’s gone.

He just needs to get through this rehearsal, then he can; go home, finish his debate speech, go over the plays for Friday’s waterpolo match, study for tomorrow’s maths assessment, start his exam notes, memorise his lines, work on his college applications, and maybe even get some sleep.

Joining the cast he tries to hide in the back corner. Following the basic blocking directions seemed harder than usual, his head had began to pound and fatigue hit him like a wave.

However he continued on, sluggish but present helping them to finish blocking the scene.

Walking back to his place on the bleachers EJ trips over his own feet. Catching himself before a big splat on the floor he is able to avoid the attention of his cast mates. Well mostly.

“EJ are you ok?”

EJ didn’t need to look up to know that his cousin had definitely seen his little trip.

“Yep fine”

“Ok try again but this time make it the truth”

Ashlyn was caring but firm, she definitely wasn’t going to brush it off. EJ could feel his facade fading under her concerned gaze. His voice drops low.

“I-i just don’t know... Ash, I’m trying-“

“ON TO THE NEXT SCENE Gaston and Le Fou, I need you boys to start down stage right”

EJ got up slowly, subtly steadying himself against a chair not to lose balance.

“Nevermind it’ll be fine”

EJ walks off, with that any vulnerablity on face vanishing, leaving Ashlyn’s stomach to churn in a pool of worry.

Being an after school rehearsal, most of the cast heads off after they start rehearsing the next scene as it only has Gaston and Le Fou. Leaving the rehearsal room with just Miss Jenn, Big Red, EJ, Ashlyn and Gina (the latter two who were waiting on the senior for a ride home).

EJ and Big Red slowly work through the dialogue, the scene is about as smooth as a clunky old railway track. After running it twice EJ feels like his words are melding into one. But pushing through, based off his poor entrenched habits, EJ made it through another run through of the scene.

“Um can we take a five?”

Miss Jenn looks at the senior perplexed, he’s never asked for a five. Ever.

“EJ honey is everything ok?”

“Hm, yeah just need a sec”

EJ’s exhausation catches up with him, the light seems to highlight the bags under his eyes. He drops onto the bleachers, resting his head in his hands he closes his eyes for a second.

“Miss Jenn, EJ doesn’t look so good maybe you guys should wrap this up for today-”

“Ash I’m-“

“No. You look exhausted! You barely have the energy to stand up for 10 minutes”

Ashlyn moves to grab him his drink bottle but runs into his iced coffee and Oreo packet first. She flinches. Her cousin never drinks coffee unless he purely needs the caffeine.

EJ freezes she moment he realises she’s seen it.

“When was the last time you slept?!”

All eyes are on him.

“James” His head snapped up. But he couldn’t look his cousin in the eye. Because then she’d see his eyes are glassy with unshed tears. His overwhelmed thoughts race through his mind.

“Ok I think we’ll pick this up next rehearsal, please be safe getting home and get some rest”

The four students start to pack up their bags, Ashlyn asking her boyfriend to give them all a lift. Turning to her cousin, helps him finish packing his stuff.

“You can stay in the guest room, we’re having lasagna tonight”

EJ too tired to protest, walks past his Jeep in the parking lot to get in a smaller orange bug car. He’ll have to come back for it tomorrow because there’s no way he could drive safely in his tired state.

The car ride home was eerily quiet, Ashlyn day in the passenger seat next to Big Red. He drove to Ashlyn’s house like a routine he knew by heart. Gina keep flicking worried glances at EJ but the senior didn’t even notice, having closed his eyes and resting against the window the moment he entered the car.

“Thanks for the ride Biggie”

Gina gentley nudged EJ and his eyes were open in an instant.

“Thanks Red” He mumbled as he got out of the car.

“No worries, take care guys”

As the orange car was disappearing into the distance, Ashlyn unlocked the front door. Gina and EJ follow her into the house.

“James lets go the living room”

EJ follows Ashlyn to the couch, and Gina continues past to grab a drink of water from the kitchen.

“What’s going on?”

Ashlyn puts a hand on his shoulder and gently squeezes it, grounding him and reminding him that she’s here to listen. He looks at the faded colourful rug and his words begin to vomit out softly.

“I’m just trying to get it all done ...and um.. for weeks I just never seem to have enough time, and I still have to do my study notes and finish my assessment and college apps tonight... but I’m just so tired...”

His voice cracks and the wall behind his eyes begin to break.

“I have to stay up so late, to get everything I have to all done...and then polo practice at the crack of dawn... i don’t know.. I just can’t... let anyone down..”

Ashlyn pulls EJ in tightly. His body wracked with sobs, her heart breaks as she hasn’t seen him like this in a long time. Gina initially freezes entering the room just as the senior had begun to cry but soon shifts over beside them engulfing them both in a hug.

Grabbing some tissues and a sip of water he’s able to stop his crying but his tense shoulders give away his overwhelmed mind.

“it will be ok, we’ll work this out. Everyone else will understand if everything is not done right now. You’ve got to take better care of yourself, what matters is if you are ok”

Gina nods in agreeance with Ashlyn as she comforts EJ.

“But for now you need to take a break, just have a quick nap before dinner in the guest room-“

“But I have to-“

“No James you need a rest, all this stuff can come later”

He sluggishly gets up heading for the guest room mumbling a “thanks Ash” as he retreats to his long awaited rest.

After he closes the door, Ashlyn lets out the breath she had been holding. She was convinced they would have to put up more of a fight to get him to go to sleep, but the fact that they didn’t was almost more concerning.

“He did seem a little bit off earlier in the week but yeah I had no idea that this was under the surface”

Gina says to break the silence created by her and Ashlyn’s shocked worry.

“Yeah he’s always been pretty good at bottling this stuff up, definitely a Caswell skill”

Ashlyn starts to pick up the tissues heading to the bin in the kitchen. Both the girls enter the kitchen to finish heating up the leftover lasagna they made yesterday.

While cooking the veggies the girls trade stories of earlier in the day and discuss the spotting of Miss Jenn and Mr Mazzarra at Sliced on Valentine’s. Just as they’re plating up, EJ reappears. He looks somewhat disheveled, wearing sweats and his usually spiked hair is messy like a 2012 Bieber hairstyle. His contacts are long gone being traded for his wide framed glasses.

“Feeling any better?”

Bringing the plates to the table they all sit in their usual seats.

“Yeah a little...thanks guys this looks amazing”

As if on cue his stomach grumbles with excitement and they dig into the food. The three teens continue to tell stories of their day. Although exhausted, a goofy smile makes its way onto EJ’s face while telling the girls about his classmate in English that tried justify his argument quoting spark notes, instead of the actual book.

Once they’re finished, EJ stacks and clears away the plates. Grabbing her laptop, Ashlyn creates a new copy of one of her old timetables modified with all EJ’s stuff. After cleaning the dishes, EJ plops down beside her and together they start to work out.

Half an hour and a warm hot chocolate later, they manage to finish a schedule that looks like it fit a bit of time for everything while keeping a heathy amount of rest time.

“Thank you so much Ash... I really appreciate it”

Ashlyn smiles back at her cousin.

“Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself, or at least you’ll let me know if you need help”

EJ engulfs her in a hug.

“Yeah I will, thanks”

As they both move to join Gina in the lounge room, EJ grabs his laptop to start completing his speech. Flopping down onto the couch, the tv is turned onto a Brooklyn Nine Nine halloween heist episode.

Taking EJs laptop at 9:30, the older boy fell asleep within an instant. Keeping to his promise, he followed the schedule he made with Ashlyn (most of the time at least) and finally learnt how to ask for help when he realised he couldn’t do it alone. And when he asked for help, Ashlyn and Gina were always there with an extra mug of hot chocolate.

Thanks for reading! I’m open to write prompts or suggestions

(...Also if anyone can think of any better names for this please comment because all my thoughts were low key trash😂)

#high school musical the musical the series #hsmtmts #hsmtmts season 2 #hsm the series #ej caswell #ashlyn caswell #gina porter

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queenmuzz · 3 years

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Happy Mother's Day

I'm terribly sorry, this is supposed to be a happy day between mothers and their children, but you know how I am... Note: Set Between DMC4 and DMC5

Nero’s legs wobbled with numbness as he cautiously got off the bike, making sure that the motorcycle wouldn’t tip. He really didn’t want to bring it back to Lady with a ding in it. But when she had offered it to him to borrow, he couldn’t resist taking it for a spin. The vehicle was a beaut, lovingly taken care of, and...very, VERY fast. How that waif of a woman was able to hold on for dear life, he had no idea.

After he had steadied himself, he looked at his destination and frowned, looked down at the paper in his hand, and looked back up. The address was a match, but this place, right smack in the middle of downtown Redgrave, looked like a dump. A decrepit skeleton of what had once been a magnificent manor that looked abandoned for decades. Even though it looked like a prime location for a demon hang out, Lady had insisted that Dante wasn’t on a job. Nero had gotten the feeling she really wanted him to find the elder demon hunter.

Confused, and more than a little curious, he passed through the broken down wrought iron gate towards the house.

The overgrowth was tall and suffocating, but Nero noticed, just before what had been the entrance, a new path going to the left had been created, freshly trampled grass going around the corner. Nero didn’t see any other sign of disturbance, so this is probably where Dante had gone. So, he trudged along, wondering why of all places the man would have come here.

He pulled around the corner, and instantly came to a stop. Unlike the rest of the property, this area here had been recently maintained, the grass recently shorn (Nero had a sneaking suspicion it was Rebellion’s doing) A large oak tree, with bright green newborn leaves, cast a lovely dappled shadow upon the ground. And beneath the aged trunk was Dante, his back to Nero, facing a pair of granite stones. It took a few moments for Nero to realize...not stones… gravestones.

“Lady,” Dante didn’t turn around, “I told you that I didn’t need you here. I’m fine…” Nero caught the scent of flowers, specifically roses fluttering in the breeze. The young man awkwardly coughed, startling the man in red.

“Sheesh!” Dante rapidly turned around, revealing that the scent came from a bouquet of red roses in his hand. Well, nearly all red. In the middle of the bundle, was a single blue rose. “Didn’t expect to see you here kid! Heard Lady’s bike rumbling down the street, so I thought she was sticking her nose where it didn’t belong.” “Yeah,” Nero said, scratching the bridge of his nose. Had Lady used him as a tool to get to Dante? “You weren’t in the office when I came by, but Lady let me use her bike, and gave me directions to...this place.” He didn’t know the significance of this area, but it was probably very important to Dante.

“Did she eh...?” he murmured, slightly annoyed, slightly resigned for some reason.

“Yeah, Kyrie told me I needed to get out of Fortuna, to take a break from rebuilding Fortuna. And the only place on the Mainland that I knew about, was your place.” That was partially the truth. Nero had also wanted to ask if Dante would be interested in a business idea that Nero had come up with: A mobile franchise using the Devil May Cry name, centered in Fortuna, but he had the feeling that this was not the time nor place to bring up business matters.

Dante chuckled, and looked down at the roses he was holding. “I guess Lady didn’t tell you why I was here.”

“Nah, and I didn’t ask.”

“Welp,” Dante rolled his shoulders, the joints popping. “Might as well get this over with. You know what day today is?”

Nero was perplexed. It was just another Sunday in May. He shrugged.

“Ah, maybe they don’t do it in Fortuna. Here, today is Mother’s Day. Where kids and adults spend time with, and thank the women that raised them, and well… I’m visiting my mom.”

Nero felt the pieces of the puzzle falling in the place. Fortuna’s version of Mother’s Day was during the autumn, and Nero hadn’t really cared much about it, considering his background. But to Dante, the day was more significant.

Suddenly, he felt the yank on his sleeve, and before he knew it, Dante had dragged him towards one of the gravestones, the one that was older, and slightly more worn. It was simple, no words on it, but there was flowering climbing roses carved along the edges. The one stone beside it was similar, but newer, and there were no roses, just intertwined climbing thorny stems.

“Hey Mom, I’d like to introduce you to that kid I was telling you about. This,” he pushed the boy further in front of the stone proudly, “is Nero.” He stood there, partly awkward and partly proud at the thought Dante had talked to his mom about him. Dante hadn’t mentioned his mom much, but Trish had helpfully filled in the blanks when Nero had asked why Dante had a pic of her on his desk.

“Oh, that’s not me...that’s Eva, Dante’s mother. It’s complicated, but I was created by Mundus to look like her, to lure him into a trap many years ago. She was very important to him, and while I don’t quite understand it, I know that she loved him dearly she loved the bot-”

She’d been interrupted by Dante coming in the office, and Nero hadn’t pried further.

Nero tried to come up with some words “Uh...hi.. It’s nice to meet you.” God he sounded like an idiot.

Thankfully, Dante swooped back in. “She was a wonderful woman. You’d think she was soft and demure, but the moment you pissed her off, she was as hard as steel. I can still feel her pulling on my ear when she caught me sneaking into the cookie jar before supper.” He chuckled and winced as he rubbed his earlobe, “A fantastic cook, a wonderful violinist and… an irreplaceable mom.” Dante’s voice trailed off, and for a moment all that could be heard was the rustling of the wind through the grass. Strange, despite never meeting her, with no connection to this family, Nero had a feeling he...belonged here.

“She would have adored you…” Dante murmured softly, startling Nero. He turned to find the older man with a wistful, almost melancholy look on his face.

“Huh?”

Instantly, that softness, that rare glimpse of something seldom seen, was locked up behind a steel grin. Dante laughed. “It’s nothin, just me talking without thinking. So, what about you? You’re on the Mainland now, best time to talk about your mom.” Dante must have seen his sudden scowl, and placed his hands up in surrender, realizing this was a sore spot. “Doesn’t have to be your blood mom. Can be any woman that helped you grow up!”

“Well,” Nero mused, “There was Cecilia, Kyrie’s mom,” he explained, “she was a heck of a woman. When Kyrie brought me home after I’d gotten into a scrap with the other kids at school, when they took my lunch, after she made sure I was okay, she gave me a ham and cheese sandwich on two pieces of fresh bread. She was a baker by trade, you see. And every day after that, when school was day, Kyrie would bring me to her, and Cecilia wouldn’t let leave until I couldn’t eat another bite. She was always looking out for me afterwards. Making sure I got my school work done, mended my clothes, and then when the Orphanage didn’t have clothes my size, she got Credo to get me measured up so she could get me several sets of clothes. But most of all…” he continued, trying to figure out why his eyes were getting all watery. Must be from the newly cut grass. “Unlike the rest of the island, she never judged me, never made me feel like I didn’t belong. I…” he took a deep breath, “I would have been proud to be called her son-in-law. But she never got the chance to see Kyrie and me grow up, to become a couple… Maybe if I had been there when the demon attack...” he trailed off, feeling a bit lost and alone. He couldn’t feel the same pain as Kyrie or Credo had, but there was pain nonetheless. He was surprised by a firm hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see the older man giving a smile of sympathy.

“I kinda feel where you’re coming from. My mom, she died in an attack too…she died protecting me from demons.” That smile vanished as Dante looked down at the gravestone...not this mother’s, the one beside it. “Our positions should have been switched” he murmured softly, grief on his face, “things would have been so much different, so much better...” Nero was perplexed. Was Dante wishing he had died so his mom had lived?

“Well, if she’s even half the mom you claim her to be, she’d probably be happy that you’re alive, strong enough to protect yourself, and others….” Nero tried to say what he was feeling, and it seemed to be what came from his heart. It seemed to do the trick, because Dante had perked up, and that mask of a grin was nowhere to be seen.

“You’re a good kid, Nero.” Dante said, and rubbed Nero’s head, laughing at the halfhearted scowl that earned. Dante looked up at the sky, the noon sun shining happily down. “Welp, I’m famished.... How bout we get our asses- I mean butts, sorry mom, back to the office and order some pizza. I’m pretty sure Lady owes me a couple boxes of them, for what she’s done…” Dante glared at her bike, barely visible from their location. Nero didn’t quite understand, but he’d never turn down free food.

“You go ahead, bring that bike back to her, tell her I’ll be there a bit later, just have to do a…” Dante looked down at the pair of graves. “A few more things to spruce up the place.”

Nero nodded. Obviously, Dante deserved some privacy, this was his mother’s resting place, so he turned to leave, his stomach already growling at the thought of pizza. He slightly worried he was turning out like the old man. Next thing he knew, he’d be having questionable tastes in fashion, and have a penchant for shooting old men in the head without explaining beforehand that the guy was trying to take over the world. Strange, he thought as he got on the bike, and looked back at the manor. It didn’t look as decrepit and creepy as before. Instead of a carcass of a house, it was a dignified memorial of happy times long since gone. A place that seemed to welcome him to return as often as he’d like. As he drove off, he remembered that he’d forgotten, in all the emotional unloading, to ask about the other gravestone….

------

When the sound of Lady’s engine had finally faded away, Dante let out a breath that he’d been holding in for longer than he thought. Damn Lady, trying to get him to break down and tell the kid the truth. Well, there had been a few close calls, a few words slipped out, but that façade had been maintained, with the kid none the wiser.

He looked down at the bouquet in his hands, and then at the grave before him. “He’s a great kid, like I said.” He sighed, “I know you’re probably disappointed at me for not being truthful, you were always a big stickler for ‘Honesty’ but…” he pulled out the single blue rose out of the bouquet, and spun it between his fingers. “Bad stuff happens to us Spardas. You, me…” he placed that blue rose before the newer gravestone, “Vergil.... I just don’t want that to happen to him. The less he knows...the better. He deserves the stability that we never got...” He placed the roses down, and knelt down, eye level to the grave.

“I hope, wherever you are, that you’re at peace, and that he’s with you, so you can tell him what I never could, that he was loved just as much as you loved me….” His forehead touched the cool stone, and a few drops of water splashed onto the crimson blooms.

“Happy Mother’s Day”

#Devil May Cry #Dante #Nero #Angst #my writing

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worryinglyinnocent · 3 years

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Fic: Not Quite Right

Summary: Edward and Alphonse Elric succeed in achieving the impossible, committing the ultimate taboo to bring their mother back via human transmutation. Trisha Elric is returned to life, and everything seems to be well in their world.

It’s subtle at first. The faint smell of decay that hangs around the house. Trisha looking a little bit pale and blue-tinged. The fact she sometimes blacks out and can’t remember what happened or why she’s woken up with the taste of blood in her mouth.

As much as they try to hide it, they can’t deny that Trisha has come back just a little bit… wrong.

Written for the WriYe Zombie July challenge.

Rated: M

Content Warning: Mild gore and body horror. Zombies.

Not Quite Right

Trisha isn’t quite sure what’s going on. All she knows is that something isn’t quite right. She had been in a nice place: a nice, calm, peaceful place where she could wait for Van to eventually join her. She was warm and comfortable, and she wasn’t in any pain. She had been quite happy where she was.

Then there had been a searing flash of light, and now Trisha doesn’t know where she is, but everything hurts and everything’s cold and everything’s hard, and something really isn’t quite right.

“Mom!”

That’s Ed’s voice. Why is Ed here? Ed shouldn’t be here, it’s far too soon for Ed to be here. What’s happened?

“Mom! Wake up!”

That’s Al’s voice. Al shouldn’t be here either.

I can’t wake up, darlings. I’m dead. I’ve been dead for years now. I’ve moved on. What are you doing here?

“Mom!”

Trisha opens her eyes to darkness and cold and a dull ache spreading through every limb. It almost feels like she’s never used her body before.

“Mom!”

Ed and Al’s voices are no longer so far away. They’re right beside her, and their arms around her are almost scalding in their heat.

“Ed? Al? What’s going on?”

“It worked! We brought you back!”

Trisha’s eyes get used to the darkness and she realises where she is. She’s in the basement, where Van used to store all of the junk he’d accumulated over his long, long life. The suit of armour is still standing stoic in the corner, watching over them as the boys cling to her for dear life. It’s freezing down here, and Trisha’s not wearing anything, but the boys have wrapped her in a blanket.

She was dead. She was very definitely dead.

She looks around at the chalk on the floor, the remains of the intricate transmutation circle that they are all in the middle of.

“Oh boys… What did you do?”

Trisha is no expert when it comes to alchemy, but she knows that human transmutation is the one thing that they should never attempt, the one taboo that they should never break. Even Van, with his vast, unknowable skill in it, would never try this. The cost, the equivalent exchange… Trisha dreads to think what would have happened if something had gone wrong and there had been a rebound.

She pushes it to the back of her mind as Ed and Al help her off the floor. She’s back. It’s been a long time; she can see how much the boys have grown and she wonders just how much time has passed, but it doesn’t matter. She has a second chance now. She can keep her promise to Van, and more importantly, more immediately, she has more time with her precious babies.

Something still doesn’t feel quite right, but she chooses not to dwell on it too much as the feeling of ravenous hunger starts to overwhelm everything else.

It quickly becomes clear that when they decided to bring Mom back, they really didn’t think through all of the implications that doing so would bring if they were successful.

Human transmutation is forbidden, and they said that they would keep it their secret. The trouble is, they can’t exactly keep Mom a secret now that she’s back. If it had only been a couple of weeks, perhaps, but it’s been six years since she died. She was buried, people came to her funeral, her death is registered at the registry in Resembool and copied down on record in Eastern City.

Her suddenly appearing in the world again is going to raise a few questions. Still, it’s nothing that Ed can’t handle. They live far enough away from the village that they’re not likely to get people finding her in passing, and all they have to do is make sure she doesn’t leave the house. Mom understands implicitly without questioning them. She knows as well as they do that what they have done is forbidden, but she doesn’t chastise them for it. She’s grateful to be back with them.

Pinako sums it up best when she comes over to check on them like she always does, regular as clockwork, and although Ed does his best to head her off at the pass with hasty excuses of ‘we’re fine, we’re fine, there’s no need to worry’, he knows that’s the worst way of making someone not worry ever, and Pinako simply sidesteps past him on the lane and continues to march up the path and into the house. Ed rushes after her, and she stops in the doorway of the kitchen, looking at Trisha.

“Hello, Pinako.”

“Oh boys,” Pinako says softly. “Oh, what have you done, you idiots?”

Still, she doesn’t shout at them. Pinako’s never been shy of telling them exactly what she thinks of all their madcap schemes whenever they have them, but she doesn’t tell them off for this. This is something so big, and something that’s done and over and can’t and won’t be repeated. There’s no point in it. They just have to live with it now, and so Pinako and Winry are let in on their massive secret, and work to help keep it as secret as possible.

The other problem that Ed cannot deny is that despite their best efforts, it’s clear that something must have gone wrong during the transmutation. He knows that Al can see it too. There’s something about Mom that’s just not quite right. Her skin is always so very cold, as cold as it was when she was dying, and she always exclaims that they are very hot to the touch. It’s a cruel irony in a way. They brought her back because they wanted to hug her again and feel her arms around them, but it’s not the same as it was before, not when she’s so horribly, deathly cold.

Then there’s the strange smell. It’s almost like decay, the faint odour of rot that permeates the house now. Ed knows that they built Mom a brand new body, transmuting it from base chemicals. This isn’t her original body rotting under the ground in the cemetery, so why is that smell hanging around?

The final clue that something went wrong is the moments where Mom isn’t really… Mom. She’ll just vanish, her eyes going blank as if there’s no soul behind them. It’s frightening.

It’s only a couple of weeks after they first get Mom back that it happens, the irrefutable proof that there’s a part of her that isn’t really Mom anymore. Farmer Anderson, whose fields back onto the Elric land, comes over first thing in the morning asking if they heard anything last night because two of his sheep were attacked and killed in the night, by something with too much strength to be a stray dog.

Perplexed, Ed disclaims all knowledge, but then Al is shouting for him from the basement and he has to rush away.

Mom is in the basement with Al. She’s covered in blood and tufts of wool, and the horror in her eyes is heartbreaking.

“Boys, what’s happening to me?”

“I’m sorry, Mom.” Ed hugs her. “I’m sorry. We brought you back wrong.”

“It’s ok. It’s ok, my darlings. I’m just scared that I’ll hurt you two.”

Ed thinks of those moments where she’s blank and not there, and suddenly, he’s scared too. He pulls his mind away from those thoughts.

“You won’t,” he says decisively. “We’ll make sure you won’t.”

It’s a very strange routine that they settle into after that, but it’s a routine nonetheless.

Mom’s ‘episodes’, as Ed euphemistically refers to them, eventually start to become more frequent, and Al dreads to think how many of Farmer Anderson’s sheep have been sacrificed to Mom’s inhuman hunger. She never hurts them, perhaps she retains enough of herself in her primal state to recognise them even when she’s not all there, but it’s been touch and go with her trying to attack Pinako sometimes, to the point where she apologetically forbids Winry from coming over to the Elric house anymore, just in case.

The smell of decay is a constant presence in the house now, so much so that Al no longer notices it, and it’s only when he finds Mom in the kitchen staring down at the two rotten fingers that have just fallen off her hand that he realises what it really means.

Still, they’re able to fix her up with medical alchemy whenever bits of her do start to die off, and life continues as it did before. For the most part, they’re content. Mom is herself for most of the time, even if she is cold and decaying slightly, and they can handle her when she’s not herself. She generally knows when she’s ‘fading out’ as she calls it, with about thirty seconds’ warning, and as much as it breaks his heart to do it, Al locks her in the closet under the stairs until she’s back to normal.

One evening, when Mom is sleeping off one of her raging, inhuman hunger fits, Al voices a thought to Ed. It’s four years since that fateful day when they brought her back, and the question has been eating at him for all that time.

“Ed… Do you think we did the right thing?”

For a long time, Ed just stares into the middle distance.

“I don’t know,” he admits eventually. “I really don’t know.”

It’s a perfectly ordinary day when Trisha sees an extraordinary sight out of the kitchen window where she’s washing the dishes.

“Van.”

“What?” Ed startles up out of his seat and rushes over to the window, but Trisha ignores Al and Pinako telling her to stay where she is, and she rushes out of the kitchen, throwing the front door open and hurrying down the path towards Van. He asked her to wait, and wait she did. Not even death could stop her.

Ok, it stopped her for a while, and she’s still not quite right, but she’s here, and he’s here, and everything’s going to be ok now.

Van was never much of a smiler, but he’s positively grinning as he puts his suitcase down and opens his arms for her.

“Trisha.”

He’s so warm, hotter than everyone else is to the point where holding him is almost uncomfortable, but Trisha doesn’t want to let go of him. He’s back, despite everyone’s cynicism. He’s back at last.

“Trisha, you’re freezing. Are you all right?”

She nods against his neck. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine now you’re here.”

“Are you sure?” He pulls back a fraction, his brow furrowed, golden eyes worried behind his glasses. “Trisha, something’s wrong, sweetheart, what is it?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Trisha says firmly, but she can tell from the little wrinkle of his nose that he’s caught the smell of decay that follows her around almost constantly now.

Speaking of smells though… Did Van always smell this good? On the face of it, Trisha knows that he shouldn’t smell good. She can smell the travel on him, smell that he hasn’t bathed for a few days. But there’s something else. Something wholly delicious. She cuddles in close again, breathing him in, and he strokes her hair.

“Oh Trisha,” he whispers. “What happened to you?”

He smells so, so good…

“What. Did. You. Do.”

Al never thought that he would ever be in this situation, but then again, it’s a very specific situation so he thinks he can be forgiven for not being prepared. It’s not every day you have to pull your resurrected mother off your ten-years-vanished-and-only-just-returned father when she tries to tear his throat out with her teeth because she’s peckish and only living flesh will do, and now you’re watching your extremely angry father and even angrier brother have an argument whilst standing guard outside the cupboard that your mother is locked in.

And that’s not even taking into account the fact that the weird stories your mother’s been telling you about your father being a living Philosopher’s Stone and functionally immortal are all true, because despite the blood soaking the front of his shirt, Dad is completely fine for having a large chunk of his neck taken out.

“We did what we had to do!” Ed yells. “Mom died! She was dead, and you were who knows where, so we did what any half-orphaned, half-abandoned kids would do and we brought her back!”

“There’s a reason it’s forbidden, Edward.”

“Well, maybe if you’d been here, you could have told us that at the time! You left us alone! You have no right to lecture us about breaking the taboo! You do not have the moral high ground here!”

Dad doesn’t reply for a long time.

“I’m sorry,” he says eventually, and Ed actually takes a step back in surprise, having been ready to launch into another tirade and clearly not expecting the apology. “I’m sorry that you were alone for so long and that this was the only solace you had, and I’m sorry that Trisha never got the chance to tell you what was going on and why I left before she died. I can’t change what’s done, but perhaps I can try to begin making things better now.”

Ed is breathing heavily, about to explode from the emotion, and since Mom is quiet in the cupboard now, Al chances to take a couple of steps forward to get between the two of them in case Ed decides to just resort to punching Dad in the face, which Al is pretty sure he would have done already if it wasn��t for the ravenous Mom and profuse bleeding and alchemical healing going on before he had the chance.

“We don’t need your help,” Ed growls eventually, hands balled up into fists but showing no signs of actually swinging. “We got on perfectly fine without you for ten years, so just go back wherever you’ve been hiding and don’t bother us again.”

“No, you probably don’t need me,” Dad agrees quietly. “I know I don’t have much right to try and insert myself back into your lives as if I’d never left. I don’t expect to. But it’s not just you two. I came back for Trisha as well.”

They’ve been talking about her as if she’s not there, but she’s only a few steps away behind the cupboard door, and Al can see the guilt in Ed’s eyes as he glances over. They can’t leave Mom out of this. They’ve had to make a lot of decisions on her behalf over the last few years, but this isn’t one of them. Mom has always believed in Dad. She’s always waited for him and she’s always known that he was coming back, and in the end, he kept that promise to her. It took a long time, but he did come back, just as he told her he would.

And as much as they have always tried to deny it and pretend that everything’s good, because a not-quite-right Mom was better than no Mom at all, the fact remains that when they brought Mom back, they brought her back wrong, and maybe Dad, with his centuries of knowledge and Philosopher’s Stone’s worth of power, can make her right again.

“Her soul hasn’t bound to her body properly. That’s what’s making her black out and resort to a primal state, and it’s why her body is rotting. The body will decay without a soul in it. Her soul is still partially trapped beyond the gate, and it’s trying to get back there.”

Mom is tucked up in bed, still asleep from her last episode. Hohenheim has just fixed up the latest patch of decay on her chest.

Ed notes the lack of blame in Hohenheim’s words. It would have been easy for him to say you didn’t bind her soul properly, but he doesn’t.

“Can we fix it?” Al asks.

“No.” The single word is sharp and blunt. “No. There’s nothing you and Ed can do. There’s a huge price to pay. The equivalent exchange for a human life is too much for either of you to bear and I won’t lose you. I can try and fix it.”

“What do you mean, try?” Ed hates how small and young his voice sounds. “Can you fix it or not?”

Hohenheim dodges the question. “When you first brought her back, what did you use for the exchange?”

Ed reels off the chemical components of the human body; he’s had them down rote for years now.

“And a drop of blood from both of us to anchor the soul,” Al adds once he’s done.

Hohenheim nods, his eyes still on Mom.

“It wasn’t enough,” he says. “Human transmutation requires a much greater sacrifice. A life for a life, a soul for a soul. Sometimes more than that. Often, not even that is enough and the transmutation will fail no matter what is sacrificed.”

Having heard the story of his immortality now, Ed has to give him that, and not even grudgingly. All things considered, he and Al got off extremely lightly, and the guilt that Mom is suffering now as a result eats away at him a little bit more.

“Can you fix it?” he asks again.

“I can try. I should be able to provide the exchange with the souls, and they’re willing to make that sacrifice for Trisha.” He smiles. “They always loved her. She won them all over in the end.”

“But…” Ed prompts. That makes it sound way too easy.

“But ultimately, it’s up to Trisha whether her soul returns or stays beyond the gate. You can’t force someone to come back to life if they don’t want to.”

Ed hadn’t thought about it like that. He had always assumed that Mom would want to come back. She died before her time and now they’ve given her more time with her family, they’ve allowed her to be there for when Hohenheim got back, just as she promised she would be. But then again, he’s never thought about what happens after death, beyond the gate as Hohenheim called it. Her soul had been somewhere, and if all the accounts of heaven and the afterlife are to be believed, then it was a nice, peaceful place that perhaps she might not have wanted to leave after all.

He doesn’t want to think about it.

Trisha can taste blood in her mouth again when she wakes up. The boys are always so good about cleaning her up when she has one of her episodes, but they can’t really brush her teeth easily when she’s out of it.

“Hey, Trisha.”

A gentle hand strokes her hair and she looks to the side to see Van lying on the bed beside her.

“Did I hurt you?”

Van shakes his head. “No damage done.” He presses a kiss to her forehead and Trisha is reminded once again of the blood in her mouth, getting up to brush her teeth. She looks at herself in the mirror above the sink, taking in her blue-ish tinted skin and lips, and her eyes several shades darker than they always used to be back when she’d been alive the first time. She’s amazed that Van can even recognise her now, but he’s still looking at her as if she’s the sun and the moon and the stars all rolled into one. He doesn’t care that she’s a little bit wrong, but at the same time, it breaks her heart just a bit.

She returns to the bedroom, hovering in the doorway.

“Van?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry I’m not… fully me. I wanted to be here when you got back, but I don’t think that all of me is here.”

“I know.” Van comes over and takes her in his arms, and Trisha wishes she could stay there forever and not have to worry about anything else. “I know. I think I can make you whole again. I think I know how to give you the chance to fix yourself.”

Trisha nods. “Thank you.” There’s a long pause. “You’re going to use the souls, aren’t you?”

“Yes. They’ve talked it through. They’re happy to help make you whole.”

“Thank you.” She whispers against his chest, hoping that the souls can hear her. “Thank you, all of you.”

“They say you’re welcome.”

Trisha closes her eyes, trying to lose herself in his embrace.

“Will it hurt?”

“No, my love. I promise.” He holds her a little tighter before letting go. “Come on. Let’s get you fixed.”

Van takes her down into the basement. The boys are there too, drawing out a complex circle on the floor in chalk. Trisha shivers. She doesn’t like it down here, it brings back too many bad memories of waking up after a black out episode with no memory of what she did or who she might have hurt, the taste of blood in her mouth making her feel sick. Nonetheless, she accepts that what Van is about to do is not something that should be done anywhere that people might witness it by accident.

Van gives the circle a onceover and proclaims it perfect with soft pride in his voice. Trisha knows that human transmutation is the one thing he would never do, and whilst he might be mad at the boys for doing what they did, he can’t help but admire their craftsmanship when they did it.

She steps into the centre of the circle with him.

“Van, I’m scared.”

“It’s ok, love. I’m right here. It’ll all be ok.”

He takes her in his arms and she closes her eyes, burying her face in against his shoulder. Even then, she can still see the flash of red alchemic lightning race around the edge of the circle.

Everything is bright white and jumbled, her mind feeling like it’s tearing itself apart and putting itself back together again over and over at the speed of light. It doesn’t hurt, just as Van promised, but it’s disorientating and frightening and it makes her feel dizzy. She can still feel Van’s arms around her but she feels totally alone and adrift at the same time.

Finally the sensation stops. Everything is still bright white, but Van is definitely real and solid and her mind has reordered itself again.

Trisha chances to open her eyes. Everything is very white, apart from the ominous looming gate floating in front of them.

Although she doesn’t remember ever seeing it before, Trisha knows that she’s been here before. She’s been beyond that gate. She remembers that nebulous time before the boys brought her back. It was calm, and warm, and peaceful, and she was enjoying it. She didn’t have to worry about anything. She could just wait for Van and the boys to join her, however long that took, and she knew that everything would be all right in the end.

Trisha is incredibly grateful for the extra time she’s had with her sons but now that she’s back here, within touching distance of that wonderfully peaceful afterlife with nothing to worry about, she realises just how much she missed it.

“Trisha. You’re back again already? And you too, Hohenheim. We didn’t really get a chance to speak the last time you were here. You were screaming a bit too much.”

Trisha turns to the source of the voice. It’s just an outline, a silhouette, strange and amorphous and shifting, sometimes appearing female, sometimes male, mirroring first her and then Van as if it can’t make its mind up.

“I’ve come to pay the toll for Trisha’s soul,” Van says levelly.

“Of course, the living Philosopher’s Stone.” The outline smiles, unnerving teeth in the middle of a featureless face. “Well, if you’re willing to sacrifice those souls, I’ll take them. It’s not your choice to make though. It’s Trisha’s soul you want to anchor, after all.”

The thing turns to Trisha.

“It’s up to you. Where would you like to stay?”

The lightning is still blazing around the circle, the powerful red lightning of a Philosopher’s Stone, something unlike Ed and Al have ever seen, and Al is starting to get just a little bit worried. It didn’t take this long when they brought Mom back the first time. It feels like Mom and Dad have been gone forever. He looks over at Ed.

“Something’s wrong. It’s taking too long.”

Ed shakes his head, but his expression looks just as worried as Al feels.

“It’ll be ok. Mom has to make the decision after all. It’s a pretty big one.”

Al supposes he has to accept that, but at the same time, he can’t help wondering what will happen if Mom decides not to come back.

She’s always been happy to be back with them, to have more time with them and the potential for more time with Dad. But Al can’t deny that her second life hasn’t been easy for any of them, and even if she comes back complete with her soul fully bonded and she won’t be affected by her primal hunger anymore, it’s still not going to be easy. It’s still not going to be much of a life, stuck in the house all day because no one else can know what they did. And what if Dad’s internal Stone doesn’t have enough power to bring her back after all? What if they lose both of them?

Suddenly, the alchemic light is gone, the electric lightbulb is blown out from the power, and Al can’t see a thing. He hears a rather ominous thud though.

“Mom? Dad?”

“Hey Mom.”

Ed pats her headstone and sets the flowers down in front of it. It took him a long time to come to terms with what happened and to accept her decision. He still remembers the flood of bitter recriminations that had come out of his mouth when they’d realised that Dad had come back from the gate without Mom, and he remembers Dad not taking any of it in because he’d only had Mom back for a few hours before he lost her again.

“She said that she was sorry not to come back and have more time with you, but that this is the best way for everyone. She wants you to be able to move on from it all. She’ll see us all when we get there. She loves you both so much. So, so much.”

“We’re ok.” He settles on the ground in front of the stone. “Dad and his motley crew of tame alchemists managed to save the world. I like to think they couldn’t have done it without us though.” In the back of his mind, he hears Mom’s laughter. “And we think he’s mortal again; he’s started going grey. We don’t know if he’s actually noticed that or not.”

There’s a long pause.

“I understand why you did it,” Ed says eventually. “I didn’t, for a long time. I was so angry. I thought that you’d abandoned us like Dad did. Except that was more complicated than we always thought, and I know that your choice was more complicated too. You would always have been a reminder that we broke the taboo, and even though I know you never complained about it, I know it must have been hard for you to have to be kept secret all the time. None of us had any idea if it would have worked properly. It wasn’t worth that risk. It wasn’t worth that pain. I’m sure that you’re happy wherever you are.”

He gives the stone a final pat. “I love you, Mom.”

In the quiet peace beyond the gate, Trisha Elric smiles.

“I love you too, Ed.”

#FMA Brotherhood #FMA Fanfiction #Trisha Elric #Edward Elric #Alphonse Elric #Trishenheim #Fic: Not Quite Right #cw: mild gore #cw: mild body horror #cw: zombies

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angelguk · 4 years

Text

the one where you wrote jk a confession letter and slipped it into his backpack but he didn’t see it and a month later he’s confused as to why you’re now ignoring him when really you’d absolutely gutted because he rejected you without knowing. based on this tweet. hehe. small brain big heart jk who might just have feelings for his history classmate. not edited lol. 1.2k listen to clean me up by thomas headon

Jeongguk can feel you staring at him. It’s a behaviour he’s become acutely aware off, skin prickling every time your gaze brushes over him. He hadn’t meant to become attuned to your mannerisms, it had just gradually happened over the past month. Perhaps it was because you’d suddenly stopped acknowledging his presence. Not a single greeting was uttered from your lips since the beginning of the new semester in January. Which was complete 180 from the constant chatter that filled his ears whenever he bumped into you in the hallway. What hurt the most though was when you’d suddenly disappeared from the seat beside him in History class. You were the only reason he was barely passing the class in the first place, the titbits of random knowledge that sprouted from your mouth in the middle of the lesson seeping into his memory store over time. But it wasn’t only the fact that his grade was looking dangerously low at the moment, he also missed you. A lot more than he anticipated. Jeongguk’s not sure when you entered his life. One moment you weren’t there and the next you were, trying to knock into his thick skull the significance of the Sino-Soviet relations on the course of the Cold War.

It’s odd, getting used to a person like that. How he’d slotted you into his day so easily scared him when Jimin noted one afternoon how close he was to you. And yet, nothing had ever felt more natural. So when you’d literally vanished, Jeongguk had sorely felt your absence. You sit at the back of the class now (his old position before Mr Bang had moved his ass to the front seat after he shot a spitball at his head). Sometimes when the class would start to filter into nothing in his ears, Jeongguk would crane his head as inconspicuously as he could. You would usually be doodling on the margin of your notebook, an eye most likely because that was the only thing you could draw without deforming it completely. He never understood how you could understand the crap spewing from Mr Bang’s mouth when you barely paid attention. He had to focus everything in him on this class or else he would end up with a big fat 13% on his final like he did last semester.

But lately, the only thing he could focus on was you.

Sometimes, he feels like he just imagines the feeling of your eyes on him, heart desperately craving some form of acknowledgement from you. It hurt, to not know what he did to drive you away. But Jeongguk had never been one to openly display how things affected him, keeping a nonchalant look on his face whenever your paths crossed. If you wouldn’t say anything to him, Jeongguk sure as hell wasn’t going to say anything to you. Even if his heart was screaming at him to just pull you aside and finally find the reason why you’d discarded him like a piece of trash. Tossed straight into the bin as if he never mattered to you in the first place.

It's after an unnecessarily long history lesson that his resolve cracks. He’d felt your eyes on him during the whole lesson, his skin burning from the brand of your gaze. He doesn’t even remember what the lesson was about. Can’t for the life of him. All he can see is your eyes flashing before his vision, bright because they look like stars when you laugh. He misses seeing you smile, hearing you laugh. He just misses you.

When he makes a move towards you after the bell rings through the air, resounding like the frenetic thumping of his heart in his chest, you scamper. Literally. Books barely organised in your hands as you flee for the door. The feeling gripping his heart is foreign, head-spinning because he doesn’t know what the hell to make of that. You’d never run from him. Ever. But there you go, white blouse loosened from the band of your skirt as you fly down the corridor to your next class. You don’t even look back. Jeongguk feels like a bug that’s been crushed underneath your polished patent shoes.

Jimin kicks him in the shin hard when he finally brings it up during an afternoon gaming session. There are chip crumbs scattered across his school uniform, tie loosened from its hold when he drops a piece of information that alters Jeongguk’s life forever.

“What the hell do you mean she’s ignoring you. Of course, she is. Have you just noticed that?” Jimin’s got an eyebrow raised, face painted with incredulity. Jeongguk’s still trying to process the muffled words drifting from the lips, brain struggling to keep up with Taehyung blasting his ass in Mortal Kombat and deciphering the sentence Jimin uttered. He should have selected Sub-Zero for this round because Sonya Blade is doing absolutely nothing for him.

Taehyung chimes in a beat later, fingers deftly sweeping over his controller. “Why the hell would she want to be around you when you rejected her?”

What? There’s the sound of the game ending, a low ‘Finish her’ filling the room. Jeongguk thinks his heart just stopped functioning.

“What?” He mumbles it again, still perplexed. Maybe the controller clutched in his hands drops to his lap rather swiftly. “What? She did what?” He swings his head so hard to stare at Jimin that there’s an audible crack resounding through the room.

Jimin isn’t looking at him though, he’s staring at Taehyung, eyes wide and a chip halfway to his mouth.

“Um,” Taehyung cuts through the pounding in Jeongguk’s head. “You didn’t see her letter? I don’t know whether she put it in –“

“I didn’t see jack shit! I would have talked about it! What the fuck? Y’all knew – y’all knew she asked me out and you didn’t say anything?” He thinks he’s vibrating right now, whether it’s nerves or anger he can’t tell. There’s a lot running through his brain right now.

Jimin sits up quick, tumbling the packet of Pringles that was resting on his chest. “Listen, lover boy, she asked us not to say anything. How we were supposed to know you never read it?”

The huff he lets out could blow a house down. Jeongguk’s on his feet a second later, scrambling to his backpack. He can’t remember any letter being left in his locker and he’s not thinking clearly at the moment. His backpack is the only logical place that he could imagine you dropping a letter in. But who the hell confesses to someone through a letter and then just says nothing?

He doesn’t even hear Jimin and Taehyung as he violently dumps the contents of his backpack on the floor. There’s a math test crumpled up underneath the piles of textbooks he has to lug around, along with an obscene amount of gum wrappers. The fact that he can’t find it is making him panic, chest closing up fast while his vision blurs. It’s only then that he’s eyes land on a tiny envelope, the corner stained orange from the time Taehyung poured hot sauce into his backpack. Your neat penmanship is smudged, a result of Jeongguk not properly cleaning out his backpack before he dumped it into the washer. He can barely make out the way you’d written his name, a small timid heart signed next to it. His heart relocates to his throat when his fingers finally clasp around it, trembling in a manner that’s completely foreign to him. Taehyung is mumbling something but he couldn’t care to make it out, his hands attempting to quickly but neatly rip open the letter you’d written for him.

When he finally gets it open, eyes landed on the neat ‘Dear Jeongguk’ that awaits him, the rush of blood in his head is deafening. It turns into a full-on roar when his gaze flickers down and his eyes find a page turned blue instead of the words that some part of him desperately wants to hear. The letter is gone. Everything you wanted to say to him, washed away and replaced instead with a smudge of blue ink and the faint smell of his lavender fabric softer. Jeongguk thinks he just might cry.

“So?” Jimin murmurs, voice quiet yet so fucking loud in the silence of Jeongguk’s hear. “What did she say to you?”

Jeongguk crumples up the ruined letter and tosses to towards his head. Hard.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook scenario #bts x reader #bts scenarios #i have a 9am lecture tomorrow why did i write this

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thinkyoureholy · 4 years

Text

Oceandust [2]

Pairing : Kim Hongjoong / [fem] Reader

Genre : Angst, Violence, Language, Fluff, Smut, Pirate!AU

Words : 3.1k

Previous Chapter. - Next Chapter.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

-Y/N’s P.O.V-

It was strange...after that night at the pub I had been seeing more and more of Hongjoong. If I didn’t know any better I’d say he follows me around to randomly bump into me. I shook that thought out of my head the moment it popped into my mind. I can’t start getting all paranoid. With a sigh I headed back home, the pub having been closed for the past few days since they were renovating the place a bit. What am I going to do...we’re running low on food already and I don’t have that much money. Maybe I should- my thoughts were cut off as I bumped into something head first. I cursed, taking a step back, rubbing my forehead.

“You should really look where you’re going, little lady.” Hongjoong said, wincing as he tried to rub at his back but he was unsuccessful.

“Maybe you shouldn’t just appear out of nowhere like that.” I spat out, sounding harsher than I intended.

“I was standing here, minding my own business when you decided to basically ram into me. How is this my fault?” He shot back, glaring at me.

I scoffed, my annoyance switching over to him. Instead of replying to him I walked around him, heading back home. I mumbled to myself as I walked, thinking about what I was going to do about the money we needed for the next few days when I suddenly heard someone run up to me. I looked over my shoulder just in time to see Hongjoong catch up to me, a smirk on his face. I rolled my eyes but didn’t offer any words to him, only speeding up. I heard him chuckle before falling into step next to me. No matter how fast or slow I walked he kept up perfectly, never leaving my side. I sighed in annoyance, suddenly stopping and turned to him.

“Why are you following me?”

He grinned in response, “I’m bored.”

“Okay? Go find someone or something else to entertain you.” I told him before walking away from him.

I inhaled sharply when I heard him follow after me but I ignored him. He just silently walked next to me, not uttering a word. I thought it was a bit strange at first but I chose not to ask questions, knowing he’d never give me a straight answer. Even if I wanted to ask him my attention was drawn elsewhere a few moments later.

I froze at what I saw, my eyes wide as I took in the sight a few feet away from me. Yuri was standing by a makeshift stall, selling what looked like bottles of Dee’s milk. That little brat...I’ve told him time and time again just to focus on his studies and let me take care of everything. The annoyance and anger at his disobedience rose in me at an alarming rate. Without thinking I marched over to him, forgetting all about Hongjoong. The moment Yuri saw me his face paled, his eyes growing in size.

“Y/N...I...I can explain. I just-”

“I’ve told you time and time again I don’t want you out here working. I make enough to get us by. I don’t ask much of you, Yuri. All you need to do is focus on your studies and watch over the little ones while I’m gone.” I cut him off, keeping my voice down as I scolded him but I wasn’t able to do it as I finally thought back to the younger ones, “Where are they anyway? Don’t tell me you left them at home?! Yuki is only five and the twins are eight, what the hell are you thinking leaving them alone?!”

“You leave them alone all the time!”

“No I don’t! When I’m not home you’re in charge! I expect you to be the responsible one while I’m out here-”

“Working?! Some honest work you do if all you do is sleep around! I bet he’s one of your customers!” He shouted, pointing at Hongjoong who had been silent this whole time.

“Hey now, don’t go getting the wrong idea, kid.” Hongjoong said, an edge to his voice.

I balled my hands into fists the moment Yuri mentioned that rumor that had circulated around town months after our parents died. No one believed that someone like me would be able to take care of four children and myself so of course they assumed I was selling my body to make money. I opened my mouth to tell Yuri to go home, wanting to talk about this at home, in private. But what he said next caused the breath to leave my lungs.

“If all you were going to do was whore around you should’ve just died along with mom and dad! It’s your fault they’re gone anyway! If you had just gone with them like they asked you they would’ve been home earlier and avoided that storm that killed them!”

A lump formed in my throat at his words, my body moving before I could even think to stop it and before I knew it I had slapped Yuri across the face. I kept the tears that had wanted to fall at bay, letting my trembling hand fall to my side as I stared down at him. He kept his head down, clenching his hands at his sides, not uttering a word.

“Go home, now.”

He didn’t offer any words of resistance as he turned on his heel and headed back home. The moment he turned his back on me I slumped forward, reaching out for something to hold onto. I was surprised to feel a hand on my waist, another holding my hand tightly. I didn’t even have to look to see who it was, pushing myself away from him.

“I want to be alone.” I uttered, walking away from him.

But I heard him follow after me. I didn't have the strength to tell him to leave. I barely walked a few steps into a nearby alleyway before collapsing, the tears I had been holding back started to fall, one by one until I was choking on the sobs that crawled their way up my throat. I placed a hand over my heart, clutching onto the fabric of my shirt and clamped the other over my mouth, muffling my cries. I lowered my head as I cried, gasping for air, the pain in my chest too intense.

I don’t know for how long I was crying for but when the tears finally stopped I noticed the sun had gone down. I was surprised that I had been crying for so long but what surprised me the most was seeing Hongjoong standing a few feet away, his back to me. He was leaning against the wall, staring up at the sky wordlessly, the expression on his face hidden from me. I furrowed my brow the longer I stared at him...what is he doing here? I remember telling him that I wanted to be alone. Did he follow me regardless of my words?

“Are you done?” He asked suddenly, looking over his shoulder with a soft smile on his face.

I said nothing, still in shock to see that he was still here. Hongjoong chuckled to himself, turning around to face me properly. He made his way over to me, crouching down in front of me. Without much warning he reached out and swiped his thumbs over my tear stained cheeks.

“I didn’t think a person could cry that much...I think you’ve cried enough to last you the whole year don’t you think?” He spoke with a light tone, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “What that kid said really got to you, huh? Want me to beat him up for you? Because I can. That little brat went way too far when he accused you of sleeping with me. I mean not that you’re not attractive enough for me to want to have sex with but I’m way too expensive for you.”

I bit back a laugh, wiping my face with the backs of my hands, “As if I’d ever spend a dime on you.”

He let out a loud guffaw, the grin on his face wider than I had ever seen, his fingers combing back the hair that had fallen over his eyes, “Wow that stings, little lady. You don’t know how to hold back do you?”

I gave a soft chortle, a crooked smile on my face, “Thank you.”

He didn’t say anything, simply giving me a nod of his head before the smile he wore vanished, a perplexed look taking purchase on his face, “Tell me if I’m overstepping my boundaries-”

“Like you don’t do that already.”

He scowled at me, flicking my forehead gently, “Don’t interrupt me,” He mumbled with a frown but he wasn’t threatening in the least, “Was...that kid your brother by any chance?”

My mood quickly plummeted at the question, my face sullen as I averted my gaze, giving him a small nod of my head, “He’s the second oldest after me. After our parents died I took over as the ‘breadwinner’ of the family while he takes care of the little ones when I’m away.”

“How long has it been since you lost them?” He asked, his voice low.

“Five years...Yuki had just been born a few months earlier.” I answered, my voice barely above a whisper as I hugged my knees close to my chest, “Yuri’s the one that’s resented me the most for what happened, the others were too young to even remember it. But the way he remembers it isn’t the way it actually happened…”

-Five Years Ago-

I walked down to the port, helping my parents carry the equipment they needed to go out to sea, “Are you sure I can’t go with you? We can finish so much faster if I help you.”

“Then who will look after the others? Yuri? The boy can barely walk to town on his own much less take care of a baby and two toddlers.” My father let out with a scoff but a fond smile played at his lips.

“Mother can stay and I can go. She just had Yuki she needs to-”

“As happy I am that you’re worrying over your dear old mother I’m more than capable of heading out. Besides your father and I have a system already. If he took you with him then he’d have to teach you and you’d have to get used to everything and it’s way too much for you to handle.” My mother interjected, grabbing the things I was carrying out of my hands and passed them onto my father who was loading up the boat.

I gave her a pout, ready to argue once more but before I could she cupped my face in her hands, “Stop worrying or you’ll get wrinkles prematurely. We’ll be back soon so take good care of your brothers and sister for us okay? If I find the house a mess when we come back, you'll have to pay with your head.”

I let out a breathy laugh, nodding along to her words, “Fine but I won’t make any promises about the garden. Those twins are little demons…”

My father gave a hearty laugh at my words, agreeing with me. He reached out a hand and placed it softly atop my head, ruffling my hair affectionately, “We’ll be back soon, Y/N. When we get back I’ll buy you that hairpin you’ve been begging me for.”

“Really?!”

He chuckled, nodding to my words as he helped my mother onto the ship. After another few words they set sail...for the last time.

-Present Time-

“But why did he say you should’ve gone with them? You would’ve died too…”

“Because I told him that night that the reason I didn’t go with them is because I didn’t want to and had other plans. I was joking but when that storm hit and we got news that parts of our parents’ ship had washed ashore I never could find the right time to tell him the truth.” I explained with a sigh, fidgeting with my fingers, “Add that onto the fact that I stopped him from setting sail after them even when we already knew they were dead...I said...awful things to him. Even though I can still see some of that resentment in his eyes every now and then I didn’t think it ran this deep.”

Silence settled over us, Hongjoong seeming like he didn’t know what to say. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable in the least but I had hoped he’d continue talking if only to distract me from my thoughts. Just when I started feeling down again he placed his hand atop my head, something I haven’t experienced in years. I inhaled sharply, my heart skipping a beat at the action. I looked at him with wide eyes, a huge grin stretched across his face as he met my gaze.

“C’mon let’s go get you something to eat before I take you home.” He said, changing the subject like I hoped he would as he ruffled my hair before standing up.

I stared at his hand for a moment, a little more than confused as to why he was suddenly being so kind and not his usual condescending self. I was unaware of the way Hongjoong’s smile seemed to falter the longer I stared at his outstretched hand. All I heard from him was a soft sigh before he bent down and took my hand, seemingly tired of waiting for me to grab it on my own. Once I was on my feet he began to drag me out towards the center of town but before we could even take more than five steps I stopped him, digging my heels into the ground.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, glancing over his shoulder, his brows furrowed in concern.

“I should be getting home. I don’t want Yuri to think any worse of me than he already does. Besides, I want to have a proper talk with him about everything.” I explained, giving him a small smile.

He set his lips into a tight line, turning to face me properly. He didn’t utter a word as he studied me, his eyes searching my own for who knows what but when he found what he was looking for the corners of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. With a nod he began to lead me in the opposite direction, that is until he stopped abruptly, turning to me again.

“It just occurred to me that I have no idea where you live.” He stated, rubbing the back of his neck as a faint blush covered his cheeks.

I choked on a laugh, covering my face with the back of my hand as I tried keeping a straight face, “You know, you don’t have to take me home.”

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I don’t escort a lady back to her home at this time of night?” He asked rhetorically, not looking for a real answer.

I gave him a blank look, keeping all emotions off my face and out of my eyes, “I don’t remember you being a gentleman in the first place.”

He winced, furrowing his brow in feigned hurt, “I’m trying to be kind to you and you’re making it extremely difficult. It honestly hurts my feelings that you think…” He trailed off mid sentence, finally taking notice of the look on my face, “You’re not buying any of that are you?” He asked, his shoulders deflating as he slouched.

“Not for a second.” I answered without hesitation.

He inhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose before a smirk tugged at his lips, “ I can’t get anything past you can I?”

“If I was any other dumb broad then you’d have me swooning but you struck out there.” I responded, my feet beginning to move towards my home as I spoke.

“I tolerate you because you’re not just another dumb broad. You know how many brain cells I lose trying to talk to your average whore? They literally could not hold a conversation even if it would save their lives to do so. You on the other hand always have something to say, it's refreshing.” He finished with a soft smile, jogging over to catch up to me, walking backwards so he could face me.

I gave him a skeptical look, wrapping my arms around myself as a gust of wind blew by, “You’re being awfully kind today.”

He shrugged his shoulders, turning on his heel so he was facing forward, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “I can’t be my usual condescending self towards you right now, it seems wrong after what you just went through today. You’ve had your feelings hurt enough,” he spoke in a soft voice.

I didn’t know what to say to that, choosing to end the conversation there. I was grateful for the kindness, a faint smile tugging at the corners of my lips. It was a nice change from his usual self but I will say he’s a lot more fun to be around when he’s being a dick. It was easier to talk to him when he was like that, with this side of him I found myself at a loss for words, but I couldn’t deny the fact that it was nice.

“Just how far out do you live?” Hongjoong asked, out of breath as he struggled to keep up.

I let out a laugh, glancing over my shoulder, “It’s just over this hill,” I said softly, pointing towards it.

“Do you all live... out here by yourselves? It’s not really the safest place… it's so far away from town…” He let out in between breaths, “Also how the fuck do little kids make it home no problem everyday!? Didn’t you say the youngest was only five?! Holy shit, if Seonghwa knew how out of breath I am right now he’d never let me live it down.”

I couldn’t help but giggle at his exaggerated hand movements, “I did tell you you didn’t have to take me home.”

“And I’m starting to regret not listening to you.” He sighed out, leaning forward to place his hands on his knees.

He bowed his head for a moment before he snapped it back up, looking around with narrowed eyes, “Is it just me or does it smell like smoke?”

I raised a brow at his words, sniffing at the air, “Now that you mention it I do smell smoke,” I said in a low voice before my eyes went wide, “Those little demons! The twins are probably playing with the fire again! Dammit Yuri you’re supposed to be watching them…”

I muttered under my breath, running the rest of the way home but froze once I got to the top of the hill.

No...no this--this can’t be happening.

Tags : @myjiminmychimchim @atinyarmyx1

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reb0rned · 5 years

Text

The Witch’s Heir.

Chapter 2.

Summary: You are taken to the village, where you realize that something is definitely wrong. You aren’t sure if meeting the rulers of that strange place will be a bad thing, or your only hope.

Warnings: Not much, only slight mentions of slavery, Ivar being a brat.

Pairings: none (yet)

Characters: Ubbe, Hvitserk, Ivar, Sigurd, Ragnar, Aslaug.

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius @inforapound @nyxdaughterofchaos @bagpipes606 @amy8220 @mamabearlovr <3<3<3</b>

Word Count: 3991.

MASTERLIST

Hello again! I want to thank you for all the positive feedback, I’m truly grateful you liked the first chapter, and I hope you enjoy this one as well. It’s longer than the las one, and I’m really excited to share the full story with you!! <3</b>

You had accompanied the boys to a little cabin they had so they could pick up their stuff and get going.

At the beginning, the walk was stupidly silent, your mind raced with too many questions, and you were worried as you yet weren’t able to recognise the path you were taking. You kept your gaze wandering from the trees around you, to your feet and the little stones on the damp soil. You could feel their gazes on your figure more often that you would like, and you knew, if you were to return them and turn around, staring into their eyes, they wouldn’t shy away and avoid your gaze. So you just decided not to give them the pleasure of knowing you had noticed them doing so.

They made you walk in front of them. They were holding a wooden structure that let them carry the one with his legs bound. You thought it a strange way of carrying him, wondering why did they not use a wheelchair. But then again, you were in the forest, so maybe it was not the ideal place for one of those.

The one being carried held an axe on his hand, and though he wasn’t pointing it at you, you didn’t want to find out if he had enough aim to hit you were you to run away.

You finally shook your head and sighed heavily, trying to soothe your anxious mind. You couldn’t take the silence anymore, and the cold was starting to claw into your skin, making you shudder. You thought maybe if you managed to keep some small talk going, the walk would seem much shorter, and you would return home sooner.

‘’So…’’ You started without thinking, not yet knowing what you wanted to ask them. They all turned their heads towards you, perfect. You let a small laugh fall from you lips before continuing, tilting your head a little and looking at them from the corner of your eye. ‘’You… Are you all like, friends?… Hunting buddies… lovers?’’ You gestured towards them.

‘’Why would you speak such words?’’ Their disgusted expressions made you chuckle again.

‘’It was a joke, jeez… so serious.’’ You mumbled awkwardly turning to face front again to avoid feeling embarrassed.

‘’We are brothers. My name is Ubbe.’’ You turned again while walking, looking at the one speaking and analysing the strange name in your mind, trying to memorise it.

‘’Wait. All of you?’’ You looked at them in disbelief, it was true they resembled each other, but you thought it was maybe because they were foreigners. Some of them nodded, you lightly smiled at them. ‘’And your names?’’ You emphasized ‘your’, looking at Ubbe’s brothers.

‘’I am Sigurd.’’ The young man on the opposite of Ubbe, you recognised he was the one that held you before, spoke, the same tender tone as then. You nodded, walking now backwards, to then look at the one holding the platform from behind, he smiled at you. You recognised that flirtatious look, and tried to ignore it.

‘’Hvitserk.’’ You repeated the name he said to you in a whisper, as it was a bit difficult for you to pronounce. He noticed, and his smile turned even bigger. It was charming, you couldn’t deny.

‘’It’s not that hard, though if you want we can see each other some other time and I’ll teach you how to say it properly.’’ His gaze held hidden intentions. You raised your eyebrows, taken aback by his straightforwardness. You felt your cheeks heating up, and you couldn’t tear you eyes from his. You stumbled with your words.

‘’Wha- what do you mean? That didn’t even make sen- shit- FUCK!’’ You suddenly were seeing the world from below, your backside collided with the floor, and your left hand, trying to hold onto something, felt the sharp pain of a pointy stone breaking through flesh.

The brothers stopped walking as soon as you fell, to not step on you, and they looked at you shocked for a second, before they burst out laughing, almost dropping the platform in which the boy looked at you with an amused smirk, tilting his head.

You let your head fall back, closing your eyes tightly and whining loudly as if you wanted to vanish right there. And you actually did want that, badly. You opened your eyes just to stare into the sky, and as you got up with an annoyed grunt, you caught the glimpse of a shadow right behind the mocking brothers. But when you tried to look at it again, it had disappeared, and you almost confused the sound of the boys laughter with the mocking screech of a bunch of birds.

You shook your head, partly embarrassed. Blood sometimes did that for you, it made you dizzy and you saw and heard things that weren’t really there. You clenched your fist tightly, trying to stop the blood from pouring. You couldn’t even look at their faces, you had humiliated yourself, you and your clumsy legs!!

‘’What are you? A child? Can’t you even keep your feet where they should be?’’ The one in the platform spoke, and his brother Ubbe lightly pushed him with his free hand as if telling him to stop mocking you, although he had a smile still plastered on his face, and was trying to catch his breath.

Another sigh escaped your lips before you fixed your stance to look determined, as if you didn’t just make a fool of yourself for the second time in front of this brothers. You looked at him, resting your hands on your hips. ‘’Anyway, who might you be?’’ You inquired.

He studied your face for a few seconds with a devilish smirk that was causing your confidence facade to slowly vanish. Pursing your lips with impatience, you frowned.

‘’He is Ivar the Boneless.’’ Sigurd announced his name mockingly, interrupting the tense moment and letting you breathe again as the gaze of the said Ivar abandoned you to glare at his brother.

You decided not to say anything about the strange title, as you didn’t want his piercing glare directed at you as it was to his brother.

‘’Ookay, nice to meet you, can we continue now? If you are done laughing at me, of course.’’ You joked, trying to lift the spirits a bit. It seemed to work as Hvitserk let a light chuckle escape from his lips and Ubbe smiled at you. You found yourself smiling too.

‘’Oh! Wait, wait, can I help?’’ They all tilted their heads in confusion as you approached the platform from behind. Positioning yourself next to Hvitserk. ‘’I kind of feel bad simply walking as all of you carry this thing, can I… y’know, help you carrying it? I’ll use my right hand so I don’t hurt myself, and Hvitserk and I can hold it together!’’ Excitedly, you explained. Hvitserk was slightly taken aback by your sudden proximity, but he didn’t complain.

‘’As long as you don’t fall again and drop my brother to the floor, I suppose there’s no problem.’’ He teased, moving his hands for you to hold it. Feeling suddenly useful, your smile shining brightly, you thanked him.

You didn’t notice the look on Ivar’s face as he looked at you, not amusement in his features anymore, only intrigue.

———————————-

‘’… This is definitely not my town.’’

Where were you? Why was there a medieval-themed town that you had never seen so close to your house? These people looked almost too realistic to be just dressed up for a medieval fair. It was surreal.

You carefully set the platform on the floor, Ubbe turned to you, a puzzled expression on his face.

‘’Didn’t you say you were from Kattegat?’’ He approached you.

‘’Kattegat? No… I don’t even know this town!’’ You waved your hands in the air, gaining the attention of some villagers going on about their lives. ‘’It’s alright, calm down… There has to be a logical explanation, surely my town is on the other side of the forest, that’s all.’’ You concluded, eyeing their faces eagerly, as if waiting for them to simply confirm your words. But they only looked at you as if they were slightly worried about your mental health. ‘’Right…?’’

‘’There’s no other village around, only this one.’’ Sigurd claimed, you shook your head, not wanting to believe him.

‘’That’s impossible. I can’t run that fast, I couldn’t possibly have traveled so far.’’ You ran your hands through your messy hair and stood there, looking into the distance, all kinds of thoughts swirling in your mind. You hadn’t noticed the growing crowd that was forming, curious and confused looks studied your clothing. The brothers stood around you, partly shielding you from the villagers.

‘’Is there any phone I can use so I can make a call?’’ You looked at them expectantly, only for them to stare back at you with blank expressions.

‘’What is a… phone? And call who?’’ You looked down at Ivar, perplexed. Were they playing some kind of character…?

‘’A phone. A mobile phone? To call my sister, so I can at least know I haven’t traveled through time, y’know?’’ You replied with a nervous laugh, expecting them to join in and laugh with you. Ivar tilted his head resting it in one of his shoulders, a strange look on his face. The others looked around awkwardly, not saying anything.

‘’Am I… Am I in other time?’’ The words left your lips in a whisper, and you almost couldn’t believe you were saying them. It was ridiculous, surely you had watched too many TV series. But your stressed and tired mind couldn’t find other explanation for what was happening to you, as crazy as it sounded. ‘’How…?’’

‘’Come, we’ll take you to father.’’ Ubbe interrupted your ramblings as he guided you towards somewhere, you only followed, suddenly feeling lonely.

You felt paranoid as you walked, so many eyes on you you thought they would pierce through your skin, kids laughing as they pointed at you, intimidating looks from massive man and woman that seemed like they could crush you single-handedly… It was too much. You decided it was best to go back into staring at the really interesting floor.

They led you to a considerably large room lit by torches. You let your eyes wander around its wooden walls filled with beautifully carved strange symbols, mouth agape. Suddenly your eyes stopped at the two figures sitting on what looked like two thrones, elevated from the wooden floor you were in. A strange man and a beautiful woman. You gulped as they stared at you intensely. You assumed they were the boys parents.

‘’Hello, sons, and who might this be?’’ He tilted his head in a way that reminded you of Ivar, he wore a curious expression on his face, smiling down at you almost mischievously.

‘’Father, mother.’’ Ubbe began. ‘’We found her in the forest while training, she says she’s lost.’’

‘’She was spying on us, and won’t stop speaking nonsense, she might be mad.’’ Ivar added. You turned your head towards him, feeling insulted.

‘’I wasn’t spying on them!!’’ You flinched as you realized how loud you had spoken. ‘’I just happened to find them as I was wandering through the forest, that’s all…’’ You sank under his gaze. He waited a few seconds before speaking.

‘’So you’re a wanderer?’’

“No I’m not. I mean… Sure, i’ve been to some places, but I’ve never travelled alone, you know?” You gestured with your hands as you spoke, trying to calm yourself down.

“Then why are you wearing such strange clothing?” He spoke before you could continue with your mumbling.

You looked down at your sweater and tugged on It. How were you supposed to explain this?

“Ah… These are normal clothes where I come from.” You shrugged your shoulders.

“And where, pray tell, did you come from?” The words were said like performed, you almost thought he was mocking you, and you felt yourself shrink as he rose from his seat and made his way towards you.

“I can’t really explain…” Your eyes wandered anywhere but his face. “The only thing I know is that it is a really far away place, so far I doubt I can ever come back.” You mouthed the words as they sank in your mind, as if only realising now, almost choking on them as a wave of fear travelled through your body and rested in your stomach.

You were trapped there, alone. These people would surely kill you, or throw you out, and you would be left wandering. You’d die from starvation, or freeze to death. Only if someone didn’t find you before and killed you themselves. Your sister must be so worried… You couldn’t bare the thought of her crying, It hurt too much. And your poor mother…

You looked up at him, feeling how tight your throat now was and fearing his next words.

However, his eyes were now gentle, softer.

“How old are you?”

‘’I’m sixteen.’’

‘’And how is it a child like you is travelling alone and so exposed to dangers? Where are your parents?’’ He tilted his head, curiously looking at you, you pursed your lips, thinking.

‘’They are not here.’’ The words escaped your lips dramatically, a serious expression on your face. It was true, at some extent. If you were truly in another time, they were as good as dead.

You shook the thought from your head, staring directly into the ground as you scrunched up your nose, trying not to cry in front of these strangers.

The old man felt the strange need to comfort you, an odd parental instinct he knew how to shake off on time before he did something that would upset further the girl in front of him.

‘’I don’t believe she’s being dishonest with her words, Ragnar.’’ The beautiful woman now walking towards you and this Ragnar. She gave off this regal air that made you straighten up right away. ‘’We should have her stay here, there’s enough room for her in our home.’’ She looked directly at what you assumed was her husband.

He looked at her, puzzled, but before he could say a word, she put her hand on his arm, interrupting him. She only eyed him intensely, and he seemed to understand her gaze. You thought it strange, why would they let you, a total stranger, stay with them?

‘’Oh, no ma’am, I wouldn’t want to impose, from what it looks like, you already have a full house.’’ You turned towards the brothers, laughing awkwardly. They seemed as confused as you as to why she would want you in their house.

She only approached you, resting her hand on your shoulder and looking at your eyes firmly.

‘’You won’t be, believe me. Besides, It would seem you have no other option, as it is your queen’s orders.’’ She smirked at your widening eyes, and you felt the palms of your hands begin to sweat. You were being touched by a queen? A beautiful queen that also just ordered you to stay with them? You could only stare at her in awe, blinking and feeling your face heat up.

‘’In any case, I’m sure my sons won’t mind showing you around the village while a place for you is prepared. Right, sons?’’ She added, turning you towards them by the shoulders and looking over at them. You pressed your lips together in a confused smile. Ubbe was the first to step towards you and speak.

‘’Of course, mother’’ You hesitantly took his arm as he offered it to you, feeling a weird pressure on the insides of your stomach. As Ubbe walked you outside you were able to hear the hushed voice of the queen, talking to her husband.

‘’There’s something you need to know.’’

———————————-

‘’So you are princes?’’ You released your hold on Ubbe’s arm as soon as you walked away from the building. You looked at them and they all seemed to nod. ‘’How cool is that?’’ You excitedly said. ‘’Though… I don’t understand why your mother would want me to stay with you… It’s not that I’m complaining or anything!! I’m really grateful at least I’m not alone in the streets… but if you really are royalty…’’

‘’We do not know either.’’ Hvitserk interrupted your rambling, walking beside you as he eyed you and then his brothers. ‘’Do you think perhaps she knows who she is?’’

‘’But that would be impossible. I’m not from here, remember?’’

‘’Do not try to understand our mother, you know she often does incomprehensible things without a solid reason for it.’’ The tone Sigurd is speaking in holds a sour ring to it, and it makes you look at him in curiosity before your head snaps towards Ivar. He groaned loudly, clear annoyment on his face.

‘’Our mother probably wants to keep her as an exotic thrall, that’s all, brothers. do not worry your mind about it too much.’’ You couldn’t tear your eyes from his crawling form, it still shocked you to see him slithering through the mud. Having to watch him from above made you feel as if you were unintentionally mocking him.

‘’A thrall? What’s that?’’ You raised an eyebrow at him.

‘’A slave.’’ He smirked up at you waiting for your reaction. But it never came.

‘’You’re joking.’’ A serious expression on your face as you positioned yourself in front of the brothers.

‘’Why would I be? If you can tell me other reason for my mother to-’’

‘’I’m so fucking stupid! I should’ve known! How far are we in history, like medieval time? Of course they have slaves!!’’ You rubbed your face with your hands in frustration and then looked at them again. ‘’You sure aren’t christians, judging by our later conversation, so what are you?’’ You crossed your arms over your chest.

‘’We are vikings.’’ Looking at Sigurd, you blinked at his words.

‘’Vikings? As in the bloody big and scary vikings? With horned helmets and all?’’

They eyed each other in confusion.

‘’Horned helmets? What are you saying, woman?’’ Ivar narrowed his eyes at you, as if you were crazy.

‘’It doesn’t matter, the thing is-’’ You lowered yourself to your knees, looking at Ivar directly into the eyes. ‘’Slavery is not really welcomed back where I’m from, so I would appreciate it if you didn’t say things like that.’’ You said, passive-aggressively, and you gave him a forced smile before you got up. You decided to ignore their slightly confused faces as you approached what looked like a little market stall, filled with strange looking instruments.

They were beautifully garnished with unknown symbols. The man guarding the stall kept an eye on you, cautiously watching your every move, as if you would steal from him right under his nose. You ignored this, and felt a presence right at your side. It was Sigurd, you turned towards the instrument again.

‘’What is it?’’ You wanted to feel the engravings with your fingers, but you stopped yourself before getting in trouble. You always felt the need to feel things, it kind of reminded you they were really there.

‘’It is called an oud.’’ He replied. Then he looked at you. You smiled sweetly at him. ‘’Do you play any instrument?’’ He asked while picking it up without even glancing at the man. He didn’t seem to mind, losing interest in you as soon as the princes arrived behind you. ‘I guess it’s normal for them to see their princes walking around their town freely.’ You thought.

‘’Oh, nah, not really…’’ You fiddled with your fingers, suddenly feeling a bit awkward. ‘’I like to sing, though.’’ You felt smaller with each word you spoke, but before he could answer anything, you continued. ‘’Do you play the oud? You seem familiar with it.’’

‘’Yes, I often play at feasts.’’ He leaned closer to you, gently brushing his calloused fingers against the strings, a simple chord vibrating softly, almost muffled by the background noises.

‘’That’s amazing! Will you play for me?’’ You rested one of your hands on his arm softly while smiling excitedly at him.

‘’Be careful what you ask of him, or you will have him following you around all day like a dog.’’ Ivar’s voice made you turn towards him, he had an amused smirk on his face, staring up at Sigurd mischievously. You turned again to Sigurd, his face no longer gentle as he glanced at his brother harshly.

‘’Well I wouldn’t mind, as long as I get to hear his music.’’ You tried interrupting the tense moment, but they only glanced at you for a second before resuming their staring competition. You got closer to the two other brothers.

‘’Are they always like this?’’ You whispered, them being too busy glaring at each other to notice what you said.

Hvitserk stifled a laugh at you comically worried face, Ubbe just smiled knowingly, arms folded together while glancing at them.

‘’They have a… complicated relationship.’�� He shrugged. ‘’But let us continue with th-’’

All of a sudden, a shadow as black as night flew between the three of you and positioned above your heads. Startled by the sudden motion, you turned your head towards it. A loud cawing sound was heard and you could gaze upon a stunningly elegant crow, flapping its wings, the blackest of blacks before your eyes.

You looked up at it in complete awe, taken aback by its beauty. All the brothers were now staring at it beside you, and as soon as it came, it begun to fly away, keeping close to the floor and startling the people on its way.

You felt your legs moving towards it, following it, not daring to look away, your stomach was heavy with a sudden rush of fright.

‘’Hey, Y/n! What are you doing?’’ Ubbe’s voice called after you, yet you did not waver. They all rushed after you.

The bird landed graciously on a wooden fence, its piercing eyes staring directly into your soul as you panted lightly in front of it. When the young princes reached your side, they watch you as you stared at the bird, entranced.

You didn’t feel Sigurd’s hand resting on your shoulder, and you didn’t hear their concerned and frustrated voices bombarding you with questions.

There was only one voice, distant, all too familiar.

‘’If you lay one finger on me, I’ll put my foot so far up your ass you’ll be sneezing out my shoelaces!!’’

Your eyes widened, your breath hitching and head turning abruptly to the right.

‘’Give that back, you fucking creep!’’ All sounds around you suddenly came back, making you feel dizzy. Your sister was there, yelling as she struggled to get something from a strange man. Your brother was at her side, being held by two other men, seemingly upset.

‘’You are a witch!’’ What is this thing?!’’ The man inquired and you squinted your eyes. He was holding your sister’s phone, analysing it like it’s some kind of lethal weapon.

‘’Fuck.’’ You said in a breath, but when you threw yourself towards them, you found out you were being held by one of the brothers, determined to not let you run away again.

‘’Let me go! I need to- Catalina!’’ You struggled against Ubbe’s grasp, throwing your arms towards your siblings.

In the blink of an eye, you saw the ink-like shadow, rushing towards the scene before your eyes. You felt it as an extension of your arms, your body tensed from the shock. The crow had thrown itself into the man’s face, pecking and clawing wildly, and giving them no other choice but to drop your sister’s phone and run away in fear of losing one of their eyes. The many people around you gasped in shock.

You were frozen in place.

Okay. That was odd.

#vikings #vikings reader #vikings imagine #time travel #time traveler #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ubbe ragnarsson #sigurd snake in the eye #sigurd ragnarsson #Hvitserk Ragnarsson #ragnar lothbrok #aslaug #platonic #vikings fanfic #the witch's heir

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doublerumnukacola · 5 years

Text

Second Last Dance

They emerged from the State House the sound of the crowds around them a little overwhelming. She’d never seen Good Neighbor this packed. It was suffocating for her to be surrounded by the drunken masses.

Then they caught sight of Hancock and the crowd surged towards them. Sole stepped backwards to the State House as Hancock stepped forward, passing out what remained of his chem stash like he was giving out candy.

It felt exactly like pre-war Halloween, complete with kids in costumes. Some were hobos, gangsters, clowns, zombies… And to think the latter was the most friendly of the bunch. She leant against the disintegrating white paint of the ancient building as the last of the Mentats were distributed, the final tin having to be yanked from Hancocks leathery fingers. He gave a sigh as the crowd dispersed. Maybe in relief, or regret. She came up behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“You look like you need a drink.” She noted, he turned to look back at her with a thin, tired, smile. “Maybe a few drinks, actually.”

“You don’t know the half of it, sister.” He admitted. “Haven’t had a straight drink in awhile. Usually spritze it up with a few Daytripper. For taste, of course.”

“Ohno, not tonight.” She chuckled, spinning him around to face her. “Doctors orders, you’re already pushing it with drink.” He shrugged, old habits die hard. She could tell she would have her work cut out for her. She was going to have to keep him away from temptation...

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

The sky above GoodNeighbor was dotted with faint stars against a deep, dark blue. The Sun said its last goodbyes at the Horizon, lingering like an unwanted house guest. The lamp lights glowed, waiting to be spotlights for the party. Magnolia had moved outside the Rexford, music playing from an old prewar speaker Daisy’d had in her attic. The usual upbeat jazz set was playing with Mags lending her sultry voice.

Sole and Hancock were drinking on the balcony of the State House, in an attempt to keep him distracted from the slurry of chems making their way through the crowd. The rum tasted like medical disinfectant mixed with cinnamon, but it kept them happy enough.

“I gotta ask somethin’.” Hancock started, taking a swig from the clear glass bottle, the dark liquid rushing to meet him. “What was it like, before… All this?” She shrugged and glanced away. It was question she got a lot. She’d had a lot of time to think of a good answer.

“Honestly, not great.” She answered bluntly. He nearly choked on his next swig of drink, spluttering it on the party goers below them. She smirked as a few held up their hands, checking for rain with confused faces. Hancock turned to look at her, and she continued. “We had prisoner camps in our own country, secret police, not to mention Vault-Tech.” She mused, remembering what life had really been like. “At the time, I kept my head down. I told myself it would all change after the war… I guess I was right...” Her hands gripped the railing, the ancient wood was feeble beneath her fingers.

“Looking back though, how could I have done so little? I had friends taken in the night; my colleagues who had tried to defend innocent people accused of treason… And I did nothing.” She took a breath. “And here, in the wasteland, I make a difference.” She smiled over at Hancock. “And everything is different, people here, in Good Neighbor, they’re free. Really free. You would never have had that before the war. Not for long anyway...”

“It’s funny…” He smiled back at her, “Daisy always makes it sound like Heaven on Earth...”

“Daisy’s had a long time to romanticise it.” Sole sighed. “For me, it’s just been a couple months...” Something about those words stuck in her throat. Months, centuries… What’s the difference?

Hancock could have kicked himself. He finally had a moment to himself with Sole, and he has to bring the mood down with a question like that. His stomach was turning, not quite agreeing with the rum and snack cakes. Or maybe it was something else. Something that hadn’t twisted his insides in awhile. Sole was looking forlorn at the street below, was it too late?

Then a commotion on the street caught his attention. The music stopped, the speakers softening to a silence. Kent was talking to Magnolia excitedly, holding some tapes in his hand.

“What’s going on there?” Sole asked, eyes brightening a little with curiosity.

“Not sure,” Hancock admitted, “Some scavver sold him some old broken Silver Shroud tapes. Guess he got them working.” She looked over at him in surprise. “Yeah, Kent’s actually pretty good with fixing Holotapes. It’s how he’s gotten all those old radio plays.” Her fingers flitted over her Pipboy for a moment, before returning to the railing. Hancock pretended not to notice.

“You think we’re about to hear another tale of the Shroud?” She asked with a small smile. “I should have dressed for the occasion.” His eyes dipped over the rose pink dress.

“Oh, I think you’re dressed just fine...” He muttered. Suddenly the street burst into music, and instead of Magnolia, sweet little Kent was stood at the mic. The tune sounded familiar, a tinny trumpet playing. The nostalgia made her smile.

Heaven, I'm in heaven, And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak And I seem to find the happiness I seek When we're out together dancing, cheek to cheek

There was a tap at her shoulder, she looked back at Hancock holding a hand out to her. Her smile faltered. He kept his hand out, but there was a slight tremble to his fingers.

“Can’t help staring, huh?” He chuckled, a nervous edge to his voice.

Heaven, I'm in heaven, And the cares that hang around me through the week Seem to vanish like a gambler's lucky streak When we're out together dancing, cheek to cheek

His hand started to fall, it was a stupid gesture. Why would a dame like that- Her fingers wrapped around his and he was pulled close. His heart nearly shot through his chest.

“We can’t waste a song like this, can we?” She smiled, one hand on his shoulder, the other holding his hand. He swallowed, but threw on a cocky grin.

“Whatever you say, sister.”

Oh! I love to climb a mountain, And to reach the highest peak, But it doesn't thrill me half as much As dancing cheek to cheek Oh! I love to go out fishing In a river or a creek, But I don't enjoy it half as much As dancing cheek to cheek

It was awkward, on that small balcony, two people used to a bigger dance floor. It could have been a waltz, or a tango. But all onlookers saw was two people tripping over each other’s feet, hands clinging loosely to the other as they held each other, laughing uncontrollably.

Dance with me I want my arm about you The charm about you Will carry me through to heaven I'm in heaven And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak And I seem to find the happiness I seek When we're out together dancing cheek to cheek

They could barely breathe, tumbling to the balcony floor. Holding their sides now as the laughter subsided. The music played on, but Kent was stepping off the small platform, handing the mic back to Magnolia. They’d just about missed his whole performance. They’d have to ask for an encore later.

“I think, we had better get down.” Hancock noted breathlessly. “Don’t think this old place was built to handle that kind of movement.” She smiled and nodded, rubbing out the soreness of her face from the laughter.

“Hey, thanks for that.” She said gratefully, pulling herself to her feet.

“Sure thing, Sister.” He said with a dismissive wave, “What are friends for?” Friends? He kicked himself as he followed her back into the State house. I mean, yeah, she’s his best friend. But he had the chance to make a move and he… He said they were just friends? What the hell was wrong with him?

“Hey, Hancock?” Sole called from his office. He looked over, and she was holding two cone shaped party hats. “I fished these from behind your sofa, want one?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Not sure that would fit over the ‘ol tricorn…”

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

The party was intense. As the night drew on, the top shelf liquor started to flow. The world seemed to spin for everyone. Magnolia sung on, and when her voice was at its limits, they put on Kents broadcast of the Silver Shroud, prompting some waggling eyebrows from Hancock to Sole. As the party waned, the drifters passing out one by one, the broadcast turned to Classical Radio. No one dared put on Diamond City around Sole, she tended to get a little shooty with the radios as soon as she heard Travis’s voice. By then, the liquor had all but run out, and the few left awake in Good Neighbor sat in the square, drinking nuka cola of all things.

Sole and Hancock were some of the few party goers left awake. They lay on the cobblestones of the square, looking up at the night sky. Hancock even had Fahrenheit shut off all the lamps so the stars would seem brighter, but left the Christmas lights on at Sole’s request. The air was cold, Sole’s jacket came in useful to keep off the chill as they lay still under the night sky. Sole couldn't help but glance from the sky to the ghoul beside her, who was animatedly telling her about the patterns in the stars, in his own way.

“... And that one is the bent frying pan.” Hancock continued, pointing up at a constellation. “My old man used to say it was part of a yao-gui in the sky, but I can't see it myself.”

“Funny, before the war it was the big dipper.” Sole added softly, returning her gaze to the stars in question.

“What the hell is a dipper?” Hancock demanded, genuinely perplexed. Sole shrugged her shoulders.

“I think it’s like a ladle.” She answered unsuredly.

“Oh yeah, I can see that.” Hancock said, squinting a bit.

“Nah, I liked yours better. People know what a bent frying pan is.” Sole admitted. She looked again at the stars. She raised her hand and pointed to a constellation with three bright stars and cornered with four more. “So what’s that one?”

“Well that’s easy.” Hancock answered smugly. “It's the Vault boy with his dick out.” Sole turned to look at Hancock incredulously. “What? You can see it right there! Just below those three stars is a flaccid cock! What did you used to call it?”

“Orion, and those three stars are his belt… And the one below are meant to be his… Knife.” Sole replied awkwardly. Hancock laughed. Yeah, ‘knife’ wasn't believable.

“So who’s Orion?” Hancock asked, stretching an arm out and putting it behind his head.

“Oh, I actually know this.” Sole gushed excitedly, sitting up and turning to him. “Orion was this hunter in ancient Greece, and he used to hunt with this goddess Artemis. But her brother got jealous and made a huge scorpion to kill him.” Sole leant forward, Hancock could tell she was getting to her favorite part, she always did that when telling stories. “In her grief, Artemis placed Orion in the sky so he could live forever in the stars. But her brother put the scorpion up there to chase him through the heavens for eternity, you know, like an asshole.”

“Fuck, so there are Rad-scorpions in the sky too?” Hancock asked incredulously. She smiled at the joke. He liked to think he could do better than that. “Ancient Greece, huh?” He continued. “Sounds familiar, is that like the lard Daisy uses in her mirelurk cakes?” Sole laughed and shook her head. “Yeah then I'm sticking to the naked Vault boy.” Sole shook her head, still grinning, and laid down again. Looking at the constellation again, she could completely see it. And now she could never UN-see it!

“Give me another one!” Hancock urged, giddy more from being over-tired than drunk. Sole shook her head.

“Those were the only ones I knew.” Sole sighed, yawning. She rested her eyes.

“Come on, you can't sleep here, you'll wake up feeling the way I look.” Hancock advised. He shakily got up, brushing the dust off his coat. “Here, let me help you.” He extended his hand once again, but he was in no shape to help anyone. Luckily she waved it away.

“Leave me alone…” She murmured. “It's comfy here…” He sighed. He couldn't carry her to save his life. He looked around for someone to help him, but everyone was either too tired, too stoned, or too Kleo.

Then he heard soft snores come from his feet. He looked down and she was out cold on the cobblestones. He knew from experience what waking up with a hangover felt like on these rocks, and it wasn't pleasant, but he wasn’t exactly Mr. Muscles…

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

Macready was a coward and he knew it. He sat on Daisy’s back porch, smoking his last cigarette. The music had long since died down, and the revelers had passed out.

“You better be using an ashtray.” Daisy muttered beside him. She had a bottle of beer in her hand, leaning against the screen door behind her. The old lady may have been a serial complainer since he arrived, but she enjoyed the company.

“Sure thing,grandma.” He joked, tipping the end of the ash into a dingy ceramic ashtray. She was too tired to smack him for that comment, she could only grumble. There was a quiet as he took one last drag and ground out the cigarette, glowing embers dying in the blackened ash.

“You’re running out of time, Mac.” Daisy said softly. He crossed his arms. He knew she was right. Didn’t make it any easier.

“Yeah, yeah…”

“I mean it. If you want any future with her, you had better fix things soon.”

“And what if she’s over it?”

“Then you can at least apologise for being an ass.”

He was quiet, he did owe her that. He stood up, dusting off his pants. There were voices still in the square, he knew who they were, as much as he’d tried to ignore them. It was time he stopped running away.

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

Then footsteps on the cobblestones caught his attention. He turned around to see Macready emerging from the alley. He nodded to Hancock as he approached, and scooped up Sole quietly. She barely stirred as he held her.

“Hiding in the dark? Trying to take sunglasse’s M.O.?” Hancock asked in annoyance. Macready didn't say a word, ignoring him as he shifted Sole’s weight so he could carry her more comfortably. There wasn't a damn thing Hancock could do. At least the bastard could get her to her room safe. Hancock leaned close, narrowing his coal black eyes.

“So much as a hair out of place when she wakes up, and I’ll make a wind chime out of your dick.” He hissed quietly. Macready furrowed his brow.

“How would you even do that?” Macready asked, more curious than threatened.

“I'm a creative guy.” Hancock answered darkly. Macready just shrugged and started towards the Rex. Hancock watched him go, silently seething. Had he lost his touch? I mean it all sounded pretty threatening. Maybe it was the party hat he had strapped to his head. Yeah that was probably it.

#john hancock #hancock #fanfic #fallout 4

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incorrecteragonquotes · 6 years

Text

Eragon Movie Recap Part 1: The First Part

So.

I watched the Eragon movie. Voluntarily.

I would say that I had forgotten how bad this movie was, but the truth is, I don’t think I ever fully understood in the first place. I saw this thing in theatres back when I had very low standards, and I kinda disliked it then. Seeing it again more than ten years later, it blew my mind. Ohhh boy, was I ever unprepared. I knew it would be bad, but this? I completely underestimated it. I was not at all ready.

But, ready or not, I saw the film. All of it. In detail. And among all of the bad bits I found many things to laugh at, though I imagine most of those were unintentional, and at least one instance of thematic consistency, which is always nice to see. So, the film was bad, certainly, but not thoroughly, completely terrible. But, if what we have now is bad, can we do better? Can we take what the studio has given us and transform it into something fun to experience, something people might actually choose to look at because they like seeing it? I certainly hope so, as this is the beginning of my quest to make that a reality.

This post and those following it will constitute a recap of the 2006 Eragon film - a summary of its events with a bit of commentary sprinkled in. Personal opinions will probably sprout up faster than weeds in a suburb. The wordy bits will be broken up by annotated screencaps from the film itself. I hope you like them! This series is based on a recap/screencap format that I personally have seen in mammothrider’s RWBY Recaps. In this recap series, you’ll be able to see elements from both that and screencap annotation blogs like cakewatchespsychopass. These folks do some very good work, and if their stuff looks interesting to you, you should totally check it out!

Now that you know what’s coming, I invite you to join me on my journey, as it is now beginning. My mission: to give you a way to enjoy the Eragon movie without first having to endure the Eragon movie.

Our story opens with a series of aerial shots. Clouds, mountains, and more are visible as the opening narration makes it clear that we’re in for a few minutes of exposition. Eventually, while looking at some clouds, a dragon raises its head into the frame. It turns out that we, the audience, were the real dragon rider the whole time! I must wonder, though, where the dragon was keeping its head earlier in this shot. That must have made for one uncomfortable flying stance.

But what’s this? On the other side of this cloud, we find a battle! With dragons fighting left and right and fire flying every which way, we look up to find ourselves attacked from above by another dragon!

The narrator informs us that all of this fighting is because of some guy named Galbatorix. While we’re on the subject of this guy, I have to ask, who names their kid Galbatorix? Like, even ignoring the part where it’s clearly an Evil Overlord Name, am I the only one who thinks it’s weird that somewhere, somebody looked at their kid and thought, I’m going to give you a really unwieldy name containing entirely too many syllables and weird consonants. I don’t mean to suggest that people never have long or complicated names, but compared to the rest of the names in this story, this one really sticks out to me as a very egregious example.

Moving on, we’re told about how there was this big war where a bunch of people died, and those that didn’t opted instead to run away in the approximate direction of some mountains. But wait! Who is this?

Some important rebels are riding through the woods on horseback, and they… stole the king’s favourite rock. We aren’t told why this matters. We are told, however, that the most important rebel’s name is Arya. Interestingly, she appears to be wearing the least armour, despite being the most important. Maybe they’re hoping that people will recognize her, and therefore not attack? That’s an unusual strategy. Regardless, everyone’s favourite oversized paperweight is clearly causing a few problems.

Meanwhile at the local evil lair, Ol’ Galby’s telling his Shade friend Durza all about how much he misses his cool rock. Oh, if only there were someone who could go on a low-profile retrieval mission. Someone with vaguely-defined supernatural abilities. Someone who doesn’t have the responsibility of staying in this weird mountain cave in case they need to loom dramatically in front of the camera. Durza, one of the least bad characters in this movie, takes the hint.

And now, we get to meet our protagonist! He’s getting out of bed at nighttime, for some reason. Protagonist walks past his sleeping uncle on his way to the door, and, for some reason, takes the time to pause and smile fondly at him. I’m not really sure of what the filmmakers were trying to communicate with this. He cares about his family? This man is, in fact, related to him? He would be disappointed if his parental figure were to suddenly be murdered? It is indeed that time of day, you know, the one when people generally aren’t awake? I should hope these things are all understandable by other means.

As our narrator informs us that this man venturing into the woods with a bow and some arrows is, in fact, going hunting, we get to enjoy a confusing bit of editing. In one shot, Protagonist Man (the fact that his name is Eragon is, of course, left unsaid) is closing the front door behind him. In the next shot, he’s climbing a hill in the middle of a lush forest that was clearly not at his doorstep in the establishing shot. Yes, I know he could have walked there first, but the editing strongly suggested he didn’t have to.

Moving on, Durza’s lurking in the forest now, waiting to intercept some horses and their humanoid companions. He stands in the middle of some pathway, raises his hand all magic-like and starts… hissing? The Urgals are apparently on their game today as they know how to interpret vague hissing as “launch ambush plan 4.2”.

It’s ambush time! Arya’s two dude friends get pincushioned real fast, and Arya herself gets tackled off her horse. Oh, no! If only there had been some obvious sign of trouble, like a suspicious dude acting suspiciously in the middle of the road dead ahead.

Eragon’s walking in the woods. There’s no-one around and his phone is dead. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots it: a deer.

Meanwhile, Arya is scooting along in the forest, holding a sword. That’s probably not how you hold a sword. Man, elven emissary training just isn’t what it used to be. Though, I do wonder how she made her tackler vanish before they hit the ground. We will probably never know. Then again, maybe that’s what they covered during training in place of proper sword-carrying technique.

I digress. Suddenly, it’s the Ring of Fire! Durza’s casting it, and really doesn’t seem to worry about fire damage while walking through it. He tries to intimidate Arya by finishing his sentence even after pausing to let her quip, but she’s one step ahead of him. She retrieves a very special cool rock, and immediately beams it out of her jurisdiction. Foiled again, Durza!

Time for Eragon to shoot the deer. But wait! The deer got all glowy and exploded! Actually, no, it didn’t explode, but it did get very mildly spooked and will be grazing elsewhere. Eragon doesn’t know what’s going on. His arrow’s on fire. There’s a cool rock on the ground. It’s smoking. Eragon looks perplexed, more than anything, by this complete surprise. I understand that intense confusion is something anyone would be feeling in this situation, but I would think that Eragon might have more pressing concerns when faced with a flashy mystery projectile.

Durza walks over to Arya, who’s collapsed onto the ground. It turns out that InstaPost is an expensive service. They discuss the exact meaning of “out of her jurisdiction”.

Eragon has decided to walk over to the cool rock. He squats down next to it. Picks it up. Blows on it. Truly an exhaustive investigation. Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t do any sort of check beforehand to make sure that the suspiciously shiny explosively teleporting object isn’t going to curse him on contact. Oh, Eragon. What are we going to do with you?

Arya, meanwhile, has some sixth sense that lets her know that her cool rock has been found by an idiot. Satisfied, she takes a nap, leaving Durza to pick up the pieces.

This brings our first installment in the Eragon Movie Recap series to a close! This part covered about 6 minutes of screentime. Thanks for reading, and I hope you had fun, as I most certainly had fun writing it. If there was something you particularly liked, or would like to see done differently in future installments, you are more than welcome to leave some feedback as a reply, or in the ask box, or however else you’d like to deliver your message. I look forward to hearing from you!

Remember to tune in next week when we visit such questions as “will Eragon achieve his dream of multiclassing?”, “just how much trouble is Arya in?”, and “will the audience ever see Eragon follow proper safety procedures?”. See you then!

Bonus:

#eragon #inheritance cycle #eragon movie #sorry for dragging you through the mud but i promise it's in the spirit of good fun #eragon movie recap #eragon shadeslayer #durza #galbatorix #arya drottningu #saphira #long post #sorry mobile users #mod zar'roc #as in written in first person singular by mod zar'roc #despite this blog having two mods #mod brisingr helped too #but if you're looking for someone to blame you should know #this parody has been brought to you by mod zar'roc

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lalala1145 · 6 years

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IBVS and Dreamswap crossover Version 2(?)

Both IBVS fic and Dreamswap AU by the frick-frack-patty-wackin’ awesome @onebizarrekai (They’re both wonderful Alternate Multiverses based on a few of the outcode Sanses)

I like Anon Izzy’s crossover idea, and since you said that it probably would’ve been more violent, I made my own interpretation on what would happen if the crossover happened.

This is my first fanfic, so I’m really bad at characterization and usage of good words. Whatever – I like your stories so here ya go

Out of conveniency, the IBVS characters will be called their actual names instead of their nicknames :P

——————————————————

Chris tapped his finger on the driving wheel to the Super Smash theme song.

“Yeah, do you have any teachers like that?” Nevin said, in the middle of a normal after-school conversation with Chris.

Chris responded, “Well, there’s this one teacher that’s obsessed with plagiarism or something. This one guy in Isaac’s group copied something from an article, so today the whole group was forced to stay after school and do extra work. But seriously, it was only one- HOLY SH*T!” Chris slammed the brakes, reeling the two boys forward.

Nevin glared at the sky and spurted out, “What is that?!” There was a huge, pulsating tear of space above the quiet neighborhood.

“Definitely not normal,” Chris said as he gaped at it. Chris veered his car around and parked it against the curb, and the two hopped off frantically.

Nevin muttered, “Wow, what the hell is gonna come out of that?”

“I bet whatever’s coming already came; isn’t this kinda dangerous for regular people?”

“Ugh, I can’t deal with this supernatural crap anymore.”

“This really – wait, is that Edward?!”

Edward heaved as he mustered the strength to catch up to them.

Nevin’s eye twitched, and he uttered, “I’m not in the mood to see you Ed; you’d better stand your guard right now.”

Too tired to care, Edward groused, “Nevermind that. Other than you two nerds, I sensed something extremely big, and I have no clue what it could be.”

Nevin shook his head and said, “Maybe the giant rip in the sky that you’re seemingly blind to?”

Edward craned his sore neck at the sputtering rift amongst the clouds. “Oh. What IS that thing?!”

Chris shrugged and replied, “Dunno, doesn’t seem friendly though. Just be a radar and find the cause or something, maybe.”

“Shut up, I was already onto it.”

Edward closed his eyes and concentrated. Nevin tried exchange an unsure look to Chris, but Chris was considering whether or not to take a photo of how stupid Edward looked now.

After a short silence, Edward spoke up again. “There’s definitely a few supernatural monsters or something in the street on the next turn, and they might be walking towards here.”

Nevin cursed. “Out of all the f*cking places, why OUR neighborhood street?! Drew ABSOLUTELY can’t see this sh*t happening.”

Edward groaned, “What can you even do about it? It’s not like we have the power to poof them away from here.”

Nevin paced up and down a short walk, contemplating his choices. “…. I’m gonna kill the monsters.”

“Wait, WHAT?!” Chris exclaimed.

Nevin immediately re-worded his sentence with, “Well, we could at LEAST attack them until they run away to whatever hell they came from. They’re monsters or whatever, so it’s dangerous to let them see anyone else. We’re the best chance this place has got to defeat them.”

Error clenched his fists, grinning. “Sounds like a plan I’m going with.”

Nevin took a breath of relief and answered, “I’m surprised you agreed with anything.” Nevin paused, then proceeded to say, “Chris, you said Isaac was still at school, right?”

“Uhh… yeah?”

“Is there any way you can get him to stop Drew from coming here? Drew is also still at school, but if I straight up tell him not to come home, he’d get suspicious of it.”

Chris gulped. “I’ll try.”

Ed flinched and scowled, “You dimwits, they’re getting closer. Hurry, get over here!” The three scurried to the last house before the street intersection, where the three “monsters” were approaching.

Irritated, Nevin insisted quietly, “Chris, are you making the call or what?”

“Seriously, right now?!”

Nevin quickly nodded. Back against the wall, Chris flurried over the screen of his phone. After a couple second of intense waiting, Isaac finally picked up.

“Hey Chris, what’s up? We’re almost done with the assignment here.”

Chris peeked beyond the corner and caught a glimpse of the walking skeletons. He lowered his voice and responded, “This is urgent; could you ditch your group? We really need someone to distract Nevin’s brother, Drew.”

Isaac’s voice grew puzzled. “Wait what, why? I barely know that broken-legged kid, and I wanna see what’s going on.”

“Please Isaac, it’s really important to Nevin, and I’ll explain everything that happens later.”

Nevin grumbled in impatience in the distance.

Sighing, Isaac finally accepted, “… Alright fine. I’ll see what I can do. Don’t go getting killed now.”

The call ended, and Chris whispered, “Whenever you’re ready.”

——–

“AAAAHHHH!”

The three skeletons hollered as they fell from the portal in the middle of the sky, and they landed in the most inconvenient way. Battered and bruised from escaping Dream, they tumbled off of each other on the asphalt road.

“Owww, ow ow oww,” Cross hissed.

Error looked around, studying the surrounding houses. “What universe is this?”

Nightmare let out a musing hum and answered, “I don’t think we’ve ever been to this one before, and it doesn’t seem influenced by JR at all.”

Cross pumped his fists in the air, saying, “Niiice, let’s go freshen up before we get back home.” They meandered along the neighborhood in search of a corner store until Nightmare hesitated before a street intersection.

“Wait a second, what if the monsters underground haven’t been freed in this timeline yet? I don’t feel any magic except for some-”

A human’s fist suddenly bolted straight at Nightmare’s face. Instinctively, Nightmare summoned his staff with both of his hands and parried Nevin’s arm. Nevin felt crushed under his own adrenaline, and his eyes flickered cyan. Edward and Chris appeared behind Nevin, but they were unsure on how to make the next move against the two other skeletons.

Cross summoned his weapon while Error lowered his pose into a defensive stance, interrogating, “Who are you all!?”

Nevin continued to push against Nightmare’s staff in a battle of strength, yet he managed to retaliate, “We should be asking that to you!” Aiming at Nightmare’s wide-open side, Nevin swung his available right arm at the short skeleton – only for Nevin’s arm to be hauled away by familiar blue strings. Nevin furiously whipped his head to Edward.

“Goddamnit Ed, what the hell are you doing?!”

Startled, Edward stuttered, “Huh?” There were no strings on Edward’s hands yet.

Nevin halted. “Wha-”

“You shouldn’t avert your eyes in a fight,” Nightmare snapped. He caught Nevin off guard by ramming his shin into Nevin’s knees, which sent Nevin buckling downwards. As soon as he hit the ground, Nevin was restricted in more of Error’s blue strings.

Cross sprung up with a giant knife in his hands towards Nevin, yelling, “Don’t you dare try to hurt Nightmare!”

Error insisted, “Calm down, Cross!”

“Cross?” Chris thought. He reacted immediately and clashed his own giant knife against the skeleton’s knife before it reached Nevin. Edward took this chance to yank Nevin away from the skeletons with his own blue strings, which promptly caught Error’s attention. After Chris and Cross got a perplexing examination of each other’s sword and red eye, they both leapt away.

The two groups stared at each other with bewilderment, and the atmosphere was tense until Cross interrupted the silence with, “Ohhhh, I get it now.”

Nevin, Edward, and Chris eyed each other with uncertance before loosening up.

Error groaned, “I know I said portal us far away from them, but you didn’t have to throw us into another multiverse!”

Nightmare unsummoned his staff and crossed his arms. “It was an accident, okay? I didn’t know that this was possible.”

Cross chimed, “At least JR can’t ever find us here.”

“True, true,” Error added.

Edward coughed to get the skeletons’ awareness. “Do I have to remind you that we have absolutely no clue what’s going on?”

Nightmare pressed his right temple. “This is way too complicated to explain, much less to comprehend…”

Nevin reluctantly inspected Chris and Cross, Edward and Error, and himself and Nightmare. “I’m guessing that you guys are some magical skeleton forms of us three…?”

“Hmm, more or less,” Error answered. “Long story short, we’re alternate versions of each other.”

Edward’s interest was piqued even further, but Chris squinted at the skeletons and murmured, “I can NOT wrap my head around this.”

Judiciously, Nightmare half-lidded the human boys. “I gotta say, what’s up with you all attacking us? I get that you don’t see monsters everyday, but you should’ve at least had the caution to check if we were gonna kill you or not.”

Nevin sighed, “As a matter of fact, I was already DONE with this supernatural bullsh*t way before the portal thingy showed up. I can’t care to be more cautious with this crap anymore.”

Edward glanced up to see the portal once more, but it had already vanished. Edward raised an eyebrow, wondering, “About the portal, what are you “alternate versions of us” doing here in the first place?”

Not wanting to think about it, Cross took a deep breath and fumed, “Yeah, about that… A certain somebody was chasing our asses down to throw us into jail, and our escape route led us here.”

Startled, Chris asked, “Jail?! Were you doing illegal things or something?”

Nightmare shot an annoyed look at the sky. “Frankly, we were only going grocery shopping for our cooking.”

Error cleared his nonexistent throat. “Correction: YOUR cooking. Also, if you went by yourself, we probably wouldn’t have gotten caught.”

“Well,” Cross opposed. “I’d say Nightmare’s cooking is kinda worth shopping for.”

Nevin’s eyes widened in amusement, and Chris added quickly, “My gosh YES, Nevin’s cooking is holy enough to worship!”

Error laughed. “Honestly, our two idiots sometimes get along too well. Hey other me, don’t you kinda ship your two?”

Edward blinked, and then broke out into snickering. “The nerds, Chris-cross and emo kid?! Pfffhaha I should’ve noticed sooner!”

Nightmare was too used to it by now, while Cross grinned and rolled his eyes. On the other hand, Chris and Nevin stammered, unable to hide their flustered faces.

“Who would’ve thought someone other than Isaac would ship us?” Chris pondered. To defend his embarrassment, Chris retorted to Edward, “Why don’t you stop being a raging tsundere and finally confess to Ink? I’ve always wondered what happened in the closet.”

In awe, all three skeletons blurted, “INK?!”

Edward quivered. “You know that I HATE Isaac!”

“Well there you have it, still enemies,” Nightmare assured.

Disturbed, Error objected, “I could never see that ship working out; we barely even interact.”

Cross nudged Error with his elbow. “Well, except for that one time you tied him in your strings and unnecessarily held him in your arms.”

“WHAT.” Error shook his head. “I think we all know that me and Ink is much less likely than you and Nightmare.”

Edward smirked smugly and said, “Hah, Wait ‘til Blueberry gets a hold of this ship! I’ll get that shady guy to spread that info so quickly – Nevin, you better get ready for some revenge.”

Suddenly, Error’s expression fell flat, and he mumbled, “Blueberry… as in B-Blue?” Error had a strong chill crawl down his spine.

Nevin noticed Error and asked, “Hey, you okay?” Error attempted to shake off his lurching emotions and nodded slowly.

Nightmare spoke up towards Nevin, “Hmm, a Blue here too… Out of curiosity, is there a Dream- I mean, do you have a twin brother?”

Nevin jolted, and his face instantly soured. “Wha- Don’t you DARE try to get Drew involved with this supernatural sh*t!”

“Protecting him, huh…” Nightmare looked down with a hint of guilt. He then faced Nevin once again, warning sternly, “You might wanna keep your negative powers in check if you wanna do that.”

Before Nevin could question Nightmare, sirens started to blare in the distance. A passerby in the neighborhood most likely saw the commotion and called 911.

Chris spotted the lights of the police cars from the left. “Guys, this is gonna get out of hand really fast.”

“This reminds me of JR, haha,” Cross remarked.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Edward shouted, “Wait, you said JR earlier too! What is JR?! Tell me EVERYTHING!!”

Error shrugged it off. “We should probably hightail outta here before we confuse the hell out of more people.”

As the skeletons gathered closer, Edward tried to grab Nightmare before Edward was shoved back by Nevin’s arm.

Nevin huffed, “Chill Quinton, let them leave. We can’t have more people seeing them.”

Nightmare opened a portal, and he gave one last glance to the three boys before running through the portal with Error and Cross.

——————————————————

Man, I wish I was fluent in memey-ness. Then maybe I could’ve made the scenario more fun and more true to character. I’m also bad at Nightmare’s criticism because it’s so badass that I can’t mimic it. This was fun though :D

Btw, you can decide whether the ships are real or not in this fic, because the short shipping scene works whether they’re actually into each other or not. Yayyyyy.

#kill me #i got too lazy to draw the white lines on cross #also this is the tiniest that i've ever drawn a group photo; never again this tiny o-o #dreamswap #ibvs #onebizarrekai #fanfic

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hufflepuffliest · 6 years

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Love eyes - Jimin x reader

Genre: HarryPotter!AU Pairing: reader x Jimin, reader x bestfriend!Hoseok Length: 1.8k Summary: Reader (you) is afraid to remain without a date since the date of the Yule Ball is slowly approaching. Note: Timeline is in the Goblet of Fire, so I’m also using OG characters :)

The Yule Ball was the only thing anyone was talking about. Christmas night was approaching and couples were forming everywhere you looked. You were walking with Hoseok when someone got asked. The girl cried out a loud ‘YES’ in utter happiness. You just averted your eyes, not enjoying this at all. Your annoyance definitely had nothing to do with the fact that you hadn’t been asked yet. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

“(Y/N), why the grumpy face? Did you fancy McLaggen or something?” Hoseok grinned, and he playfully pushed his shoulder against yours. You looked up at him, a smile creeping up on your face as you got enlightened by the big smile on his face. That boy was always happy.

“Ew, no.” You reacted, pushing back. “I just- I don’t know. Everyone is getting asked.” You shrugged, averting your gaze as you two approached the Great Hall. “Well, I may have heard someone was planning on asking you today.” Hoseok spoke, making you snap your head up at it him. “Hobi, you know you don’t have to ask me out of pity.” You said, your voice quiet. Hoseok looked at you with a sadness in his eyes, but it melted away as his brightening smile made way to his face again. “Don’t be like that, I wasn’t talking about me. Although I do want to dance with you, so make sure you save me a dance. Pretty boy can use that time to get you something to drink or something.” “Pretty boy?” You asked, trying to get more information out of Hoseok. He just wiggled his eyebrows at you and ignored your questioning look. You then noticed the Great Hall. It had been completely transformed into Christmas mode. Multiple Christmas trees had been decorated beautifully in all four house colours and had been placed in the corners of the Great Hall. One large tree was placed behind the teacher’s table, towering over everything as if casting its watchful eye on all the students. All candles had been dimly lit and were floating in the air, creating a cozy feel in the room. You walked up to your house table and sat down next to your friends, thinking about what Hoseok had said. He was not just playing with you, was he? You sighed as you played with the food on your plate, and started dreaming about the boy you wished would ask you out. Your gaze started to wander and lingered as it set its eyes on Jimin. You stared at him as he was cracking a joke obviously only he was enjoying. Yoongi showed no reaction to his joke and silently continued eating his roast dinner, but snapped his head towards Jimin as he pushed Yoongi against his shoulder for not laughing at his joke. Jimin continued laughing, even as he noticed you staring at him. He made eye contact with you and winked at you, flashing his beautiful smile at you. You quickly looked away, trying to hide your rosy cheeks as you shook your head and secretly smiled to yourself.

After dinner was finished, you made your way to the exit of the Great Hall. All students were flooding out, creating a steady stream that slowly walked through the large wooden doors that were both the entrance and the exit to the Great Hall. You were lost in your own thoughts and suddenly snapped out of it as you felt an arm slip around your waist. You looked up at Jimin as he pulled you against him, his warmth making you shiver.

“Hey.” He whispered to you, and you pulled yourself loose from his grip. “He still does not get the concept of ‘personal space’.” Yoongi muttered as he appeared on the other side of you. The other Bangtan Boys also appeared around you, engaged in their own conversation. “There is no such thing as ‘personal space’ when it comes to us. I saw you making love eyes at me during the feast.” Jimin spoke as he cooed at you. You rolled your eyes at him and attempted to start a conversation with Hoseok. You wanted to find out who this ‘pretty boy’ he was talking about earlier was.

“So, Hobi, my dearest friend.” You started, batting your eyelashes at Hoseok as you slipped away from Jimin. “(Y/N), love, your flattery is as see-through as Nearly-Headless Nick. It is not gonna work.” He spoke, trying to resume the conversation he was having with Namjoon. “But-” You started, but Hoseok shushed you. “(Y/N), I swear, trust me. He’s gonna come, but not if you keep hanging around us, although he’s not really the type to be scared by us.” His face seemed thoughtful, but then he just shrugged it off. “So, who’s gonna sneak out with me tonight to re-decorate the trees in the Great Hall?” Hoseok said, gaining everyone’s attention. “Yes, yes, yes, me!” Jimin immediately said, jumping up and down to show his excitement. “I already have a great idea on how to re-decorate the Gryffindor tree.” “I’m in as well.” Yoongi spoke, just nodding once at Hoseok, but he also had a mischievous grin decorating his face. “As a prefect I should probably report all of you, but I do want to mess around with the Slytherin tree, just to annoy Jimin.” Jin said, flicking his fingers against Jimin’s temple. Jimin screamed out softly in pain. “Hyung~, why?” Jimin groaned. “Nobody touches our tree.” Taehyung said as he rubbed his hands. “I have an amazing plan for it, just you wait.” “But-” Jungkook started to object, but Taehyung cut him off. “No one!” Taehyung glared at him, and Jungkook quietly backed off, holding up his hands in defeat. “Alright alright, I’m sorry hyung.” “The youth has no manners anymore.” Jin sighed, as he kept his wary eye on Jimin and Yoongi who were already scheming on how to re-decorate, or possibly destroy, the Gryffindor tree.

Suddenly you felt someone tap your shoulder, and you turned around. You looked up to arguably one of the handsomest faces that walked around the Hogwarts castle. None other than Cedric Diggory smiled at you, his perfect teeth almost blinding you. “Oh, hey, hello.” You stammered, confused as to why he tapped your shoulder. You hadn’t talked to him for some weeks. He was good friends with Hoseok, as them being in the same house and year. You sometimes studied with them or sat with them, just because they were so much fun. You remember a few weeks ago, when autumn came and it started to get cold, you were hanging outside with Hoseok and Cedric. You were having a contest on who could hex the chestnuts to look like the best-looking animals. Obviously Cedric won, but he helped you with your spells so you made a perfect looking hedgehog out of chestnuts.

“Hey.” Cedric spoke, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “How are you?” He smiled again, his warm, grey eyes inspecting your face. You didn’t know where to look, afraid to just gaze at his perfect face and forget to speak. You quickly glanced back at the boys who had stopped once they noticed you had vanished. Hoseok nudged you with his head, gesturing for you to continue speaking with Cedric. ‘Pretty boy’ Cedric. Oh. You noticed Jimin looked annoyed and saw Jin was laughing beside him. They were probably still arguing about their decorating trees plan for tonight. You quickly locked eyes with Jimin, but looked away almost immediately before you sucked into them again. You looked at Cedric again. He was still looking at you, a small smile lingered on his face. “I’m fine, yeah. Ready for Christmas break.” You laughed awkwardly. “I feel you.” Cedric said, a wider smile spreading around his face as you engaged in a conversation with him. “But first the Yule Ball, are you excited about it?” You slowly nodded. “Yeah, I’m curious as how it is going to be. Been awhile since I attended a ball.” “Right, me too. I heard the professors are going to give us dance lessons. Not that you need it of course, I saw you dance with Hoseok a few times.” Your cheeks started to heat up at that. He had seen you dance? When? “Oh, right, yeah. Hoseok is a great dancer.”

“So, are you going to dance with anyone at the ball? I mean, uh, do you have a date?” You just glared at him, unsure of what to say. “Have you been asked already?” He asked again, as you stayed silent. “Actually, yes.” Someone said next to you. You immediately recognized his voice, and you melted into his warm embrace as his arm slipped around you once again and he pulled you against him. “I’m going to take this beautiful one with me to the ball.” “Jimin.” You said, almost inaudible, as you observed how he looked at Cedric. It was as if he was ready to jump him. Jimin pulled his gaze away from Cedric and his expression softened as he took in your perplexed face. “Yes, love?” He whispered, his face inches from yours. “Be calm.” You whispered back, before you looked at Cedric again. Pretty boy Cedric. The boy who was actually having just as much admirers roaming the halls as Viktor Krum was having. The boy with the perfect face. But not the boy you liked. “Cedric, I’m flattered. I really am, but I’m already going with Jimin.” You smiled at him, and Cedric nodded at you in understanding. “Alright, no problem. I- Okay.” With that he left, and you did feel sorry, but you were also really, really surprised by the boy who was still holding onto you for his dear life.

“What was that?” You hissed at him, as his arm loosened the grip he was having on you. “You did not deny me, so you like me too.” He said, his trademark cocky smile appearing again. “Of course I like you, but that’s not the point. Why did you not ask me sooner? Wait, scratch that. You didn’t even ask me. You just claimed me.” “Are you going to be a pain about it now?” Jimin laughed. “Yes.” You said, but you couldn’t help but to smile as well. “That’s why I like you.” Jimin grinned, inching towards you. “What did just happen? I’m so sorry (Y/N) but Jimin just stormed away!” Hoseok shouted at you as he approached. “Hoseok-hyung, I think you just messed up their moment.” Jungkook said, calmly entering the scene. “Their moment?” Hoseok repeated, looking at the both of you, and just then noticing your locked hands. “Oh. Right.” “Hobi-” You started, but you stopped as you didn’t know how to continue. “Well, Jimin’s also a pretty boy. I’ll leave you be.” Hoseok winked at you, before he dragged Jungkook with him. “Now, where were we?” Jimin asked, as he grinned at you and cupped your face in his hands.

Part 2?

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randomnessunicorn-imagine · 6 years

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3# Prize [ first part ]

@hamsterandtrianglenose (I don’t know why it never tags you)

Here your prize! This is a drabble insert about the Cup brothers and I hope you will enjoy it. I’ll be glad if you leave me some feedback or comment. I will write the other insert one of these days, for now I hope this is ok-! Good reading~!

🍵 CUPHEAD & MUGMAN ~

Flower Surprise [ 200 words ]

The little Mugman had the green thumb, he was very good taking care of plants, he wanted to prepare a surprise for his brother that lately was stressed, and he just wanted to see Cuphead smile again. Mugman’s garden was full of colourful flowers and he picked up some of them for his brother, he chose the most beautiful ones. His intent was building a rainbow garland of flowers and it had to be large because Cup’s head was not so tiny. Then, Mugman filled his own cup with flowers like if it was a sort of basket, he left a flowers’ trace wherever he passed and his brother was a little worried seeing Mugman so floral but he seemed happy and it was the most important thing. Then, Mugman showed to Cuphead his garland. «I name you the King of Flowers, here’s your crown! », Mugman posed the flower crown on Cup’s head and he chuckled. Then, Mugman took some of those flowers he had in his head, launching them in the air, and applauding his brother. «Ya’ll be my vice, bud. That’s so flowerfull! », the two cups laughed and Mugman was glad his brother appreciated his surprise.

Nightmare [ 200 words ]

All Mugman did was wiggling in his sleep, he was having a terrible nightmare. His breaths were deep and irregular and from his mouth came out words of nonsense and fear. Since the two-Cup brothers shared the same room, Cuphead woke up suddenly, hearing his brother and he realized something was wrong. He could not see Mugman so shocked in his sleep so he reached the edge of his bed trying to wake up Mugman that jumped. «Are you ok, bro? », asked Cuphead with concern in his voice. «I just had a nightmare…», Mugman was calming himself even if he still shivered as a leaf and Cuphead hugged him, patting his head. «What did you dream? If you want to tell me…», Cuphead smiled tenderly, and his brother felt save next to him and he said, « I dreamt, I was burning in hell and everything was so dark and scary. » Cuphead with a sweet voice, only his brother knew his tender side, said, «It’s impossible, it could never happen because you’re an angel, bro!», Mugman smiled, hugging him back, «Now sleep!», Cuphead kissed his brother’s cheek. «Thanks, Cup! », said Mugman, calm. «Goodnight, Mug~», and peace returned

Bike’s lessons [ 300 words ]

«Are you sure you want to take the training wheels off? », said Cuphead to his brother. They were taking riding bicycle’s lessons and Mugman wanted to ride it without his training wheels but his brother was not so sure if he could be able to do it and he was afraid Mugman could hurt himself falling on the cold and hard ground. Cuphead started riding his bike without training wheels so early and he was an expert, and everyone envied the talent he had in doing acrobats and figures in the sky. None could be compared with his majestic technique and Mugman wanted to learn his tricks but before he had to learn how to ride a bicycle without any support. «Yes, I want to try, I’m ready! », the enthusiasm present in Mugman’s voice convinced Cuphead and he pushed his brother’s saddle until he was fast enough to leave him riding alone. Mugman pedalled for some metres until he lost his equilibrium and he fell to the ground how it was predictable. Cuphead ran to him, screaming, «Oh, no, Mug! Are you ok? », his head flew and his eyes popped out in the cartoon’s style, freaking out. «I’m fine, bro! », Cuphead was relieved that he was safe. «You should keep using your training wheels. », said Cuphead without hide the concern in his voice. «Yep, but it was funny. I gained a war wound, at least!» , Mugman laughed, showing his scars with proud. «Yes, but let’s come back home, warrior, so I can heal your atrocious war wounds», even Cuphead laughed and the two of them returned home. Not for everyone riding a bicycle was easy but as long as you were enjoying a good time with a person you loved, no scar was painful.

Bullying [ 300 words ]

«Look who’s here, the little mug! », said an evil child to Mugman that was scared and inert, blocked in a corner by the horrible bullies of his school. It happened all the time and Mugman was so frustrated and tired of this situation since he was one of the smartest student in his class so it was obvious so many students envied him. Mugman was not able to answer back to their provocations and those evil kids blackmailed him all the times: they would not hit him if he gave to them his lunch so Mugman’s stomach kept remaining empty just like his heart because it was unfair. Sometimes, they even stole his homework or money. One day, Mugman pretended to be sick to stay at home because he did not want to see those bullies and Cuphead, who knew his brother better than anyone else, understood something was wrong and none could dare to use his brother for their evil purposes and those bullies were going to pay for their horrible actions. Even if Cuphead appeared so small and weak, he was a brat and he knew how to treat bad guys. Obvious, he could not beat all of them but he could leave to them some funny surprises. Cuphead’s idea was to prank them until their last breath. He filled their lockers with fake spiders, insects and he put buckets of water to every door they crossed, Cuphead was always there to study all their moves like a little demon, the bullies have never found it out, and they thought some ghosts persecuted them. Cuphead left a letter to them saying that if they stopped to be evil, this curse would stop. This was the punishment for their behaviour. After that day, the school became a paradise.

Pirate games [ 400 words ]

Cuphead was looking through his binocular searching for some mysterious land to discover. Pretending to be pirates was one of the funnies games for a child and the cup has always dreamt to become a pirate, they were so strong and cool. Everything about them was amazing! «Have you spotted something, Captain? », said Mugman raising his head, his brother was on the jungle gym so he could have a better sight of the vast ocean that was nothing but the park. «Nothing, the sea is so calm… Too calm! », he said puffing and he concentrated his eyesight more trying to find something interesting in this fake sea. «I’ve spotted something, a mysterious creature’s attacking us. », he screamed and Mugman prepared himself to fight…A little girl who was not so monstrous appeared, maybe the only thing that could be scary was her ice cream that looked like a blob. «Ah, she’s close… So close, Captain, what should we do? », and the little girl laughed screaming, «Can I play with you, boys? », and Cuphead jumped of the platform and he said, «No, it’s not a game. This is Sparta. », he tried to imitate the famous scene of the movie but the girl laughed at him. «Maybe we should…», Mugman did not have the time to answer that Cuphead refused, «Never! We’re pirates and not babysitters! » . «Ah, you’re a bad cup! Stupid!» , answered the angry girl, kicking Cuphead’s legs and she began to cry. «Ah, that’s hurt! », screamed Cuphead, feeling the pain on his knee, and it seemed he was going to cry since he felt so frustrated. «Be calm, Cup! », and Mugman patted his brother’s shoulders trying to comfort him but it seemed not so useful and, since he was a very empathic person, he could not contain himself and he started crying with them. That jungle gym became the Wailing Wall. The three of them kept crying like crybabies and then the girl stopped, laughing at them, «how ridiculous you are when you cry». «Ah, not as ridiculous as you, little demon! », and Cuphead showed his tongue to her, and she emulated him mocking on him, while Mugman was perplexed but he remained there to admire the show. What was supposed to be a pirate-game became more like a circus but, at least, none could say to be bored.

Valentine [ 250 words ]

It was the 14th on February, the Valentine’s Day. This was a festivity that Cuphead did not understand and he hated so much, and he was a little jealous about all the children on his class because everyone always received cards and presents from their crushes while he spent this day alone. He did not have any crush, no one had a crush on him, and this situation made him so frustrated. Sometimes he acted like a little bully but he was also so funny and exuberant, so it was impossible not to sympathize with this cup. On the other hand, his brother was one of the most loved guy in the class and he received so many chocolates and gifts from all the girls and so many compliments from the teachers and Cuphead was a little jealous but his brother deserved it and he had to be happy for him. When Cuphead was losing his last hope, he noticed a gift in his locked and his curiosity reached the stars, there was a card that said, «For the best cup of the world. Happy Valentine’s day, Mug!», it was from his brother and Cuphead’s heart melted. He did not need the affection of any crush if he still had his precious brother, he held the card next to his heart and all his dull thoughts vanished instantly. Now he had to think about a surprise for his brother, and the moon or the stars would have never been enough.

Haunted house [ 200 words ]

«Cup, are you sure you want to go there? », said Mugman with fear in his voice while he was staring the huge building in front of him. «Are you afraid, bro?», asked his brother, laughing because he was impatient to come inside the haunted house, he was so excited to see a ghost and he wanted to share this experience with Mugman, but his brother did not seem so agree with it. «Honestly, I’m freaking out, bro-! », he was not ashamed of his fear and maybe it was truly a bad idea, he read the stories about this house and they were not so amusing. «Don’t be a baby, I will hold your hand all the time», Cuphead said jokily but Mugman took it seriously and he grabbed his hand, remaining closing to him all the way. «Thanks, Cup! You’re my hero! » , and Cuphead melted at that phrase because it was true, he had to protect his brother if he was so scared. «Yep, no monsters would dare to hurt my bro. They must fear Super-Cup!», he imitated a superhero pose and every evil creatures was going to run away seeing how he was fearsome… Maybe…

#randomnessunicorn-imagine #hamsterandtrianglenose #rafflle event #prize #third prize #cuphead dont deal with the devil #cuphead #cuphead brothers #cup bros #cup brothers #cuphead mugman #cuphead fanfiction #fanfiction #cuphead and mugman

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gunnerpalace · 7 years

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[future|past]perfect

This could be more, as it’s as much narrative outline as story, but I think it’s still something. For @ichirukimonth Day 18: A Perfect End (August 24). 2,571 words, with a song:

youtube

I asked myself: was I content, with the world that I once cherished? Did it bring me to this darkened place to contemplate my perfect future? I will not stand nor utter words against this tide of hate. Losing sight of what and who I was again

It is Christmas, 2032. Kazui started college in 2023, and an already ambivalent marriage that had been kept together in his name started quietly coming undone. By the time he graduated in 2027 it simply dissolved, just another statistical casualty. Last Ichigo heard, she was with Uryū.

He is 47 years old. He's as grizzled as his father now, but lacks any of his affected cheer. He's long past allocating blame. Lately he merely wonders: why not a Santen Kesshun or Sōten Kisshun here, or a memory replacer there? How did he wind up in such a circumstance when it could've been changed at any time?

I'm so sorry if these seething words I say Impress on you That I've become anathema of my soul

He's been binging movies the past few days. It's Christmas after all, so there's It's a Wonderful Life. There's Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, because, well, he could always go and have it all erased. It wouldn't even have to be her who did it... There's Looper and Donnie Darko and... You know, maybe he and his memory aren't the things that need to be erased. Maybe. Maybe...

He goes to Kisuke.

I can't say that you're losing me I always tried to keep myself tied to this world, Though I know where this is leading Please No tears No sympathy

Kisuke has never been happy about how Yoruichi left, and Kisuke still owes him.

"I want to go back," Ichigo eventually says over tea.

"... Back to where, Kurosaki-san?" Kisuke asks with confusion. Soul Society? That would be easy, but...

"... The beginning. No... just a little after then..." Ichigo muses, considering it more carefully.

Kisuke raises an eyebrow.

Ichigo explains.

"Out of the question," Kisuke objects.

"Are you saying it's impossible?" Ichigo demands.

Kisuke looks down and to one side, his hat obscuring his face.

"I remember Aizen bragging about how his Kurohitsugi would warp space and time..." Ichigo continues.

"We can't," Kisuke says gravely.

A small eon passes.

"What do we have to lose?" Ichigo asks, with all the light airiness of a falling feather.

I can't say that you're losing me But I must be that which I am Though I know where this could take me No tears No sympathy

It is Christmas, 2037. Preparations are complete. Kisuke has finished the machine. Ichigo has ended his training.

He is 52 years old.

Kisuke somberly passes him the device. It looks something like a smart phone, seemingly rather innocuous. He presses it into Ichigo's hand firmly. "You just click the button on the side and confirm the data on the screen."

"Right."

Kisuke doesn't let go. "You'll have to make sure."

There's a long pause before Ichigo quietly says "I know," and heads for the senkaimon.

A moment later, he's in Soul Society. He can feel it hum in his bones.

The guards start at his sudden appearance, but his profile is known to them, even if he hasn't been through the gate in 35 years.

Ichigo strides forward into the middle of the plaza to wait patiently below a light snowfall. He hasn't seen her since things started getting tense, shortly after he turned 30. She'll show up sooner or later.

Gracefully Respectfully Facing conflict deep inside myself But here confined Losing control of what I could not change

He doesn't have to wait long.

Rukia drops out of flash step casually some 20 minutes later a few meters ahead of him. She's youthful as ever, her hair long and braided here and there, her haori fluttering elegantly. It seems hardly a day has passed for her.

Her eyes widen as she takes in his appearance—he sees it all before she brings her expression under control.

"Ichigo?" He looks so much like his father, though his hair is long like that time, after the fight with Aizen.

"Yo, Rukia," he ventures with an awkward but natural smile.

Her brows knit together in confusion. "What are you doing here?" Soul Society doesn't celebrate Christmas, but...

"Uh..." Ichigo begins. He closes his eyes and rubs at the back of his head. All this time and he never really thought of what to say.

They stand in silence for a time before he exhales and drops his head. "Hey. If we could do it all over again, would you want things to end up like this?"

Rukia squints, then frowns, and finally turns away, crossing her arms at the directness of the question. "After all this time, you come here now to ask something like that? Don't expect me to answer that kind of thing," she says with a quiet voice.

Ichigo studies her back intensely. Something about the way she said that... No, you wouldn't. He closes his eyes and draws in a breath, basks in her reiatsu one last time. I'm sorry, Rukia, but... I already know your answer. At last he turns away, pitching his voice up with mirth. "Oi, Shinigami. I'll be back."

Rukia blinks again and furrows her brow in recollection. "It is not Shinigami—" she begins, turning around. Her eyes go wide as Ichigo is nowhere to be seen or felt. There is only the faintest distortion in the air, like a heat shimmer. She immediately looks around in alarm, but there is no sign of him. He's just vanished.

Gracefully Respectfully I ask you "Please don't worry," Not for me. Don't turn your back Don't turn away

It is late June, 2001.

He is both 15 and 52 years old.

Ichigo the Elder stands within the Soul Society of the past for only an instant, his reiatsu suppressed to the maximum. In the blink of an eye, he uses Shadow to slip into the Schatten Bereich. He doesn't care whether he was noticed—his presence was simply too brief to be anything but a hallucination.

He glances about with disinterest before jumping up far above Wandenreich's rooftops, quickly locating Silbern.

A second longer and he is there, inside its halls.

He pauses long enough to quickly look around, and then the screaming starts and doesn't end.

By the time Ichigo arrives at the throne room, the halls are slathered in dripping, viscous crimson.

He advances into the room methodically, spotless for his prior speed. Sure enough, there are Yhwach and all the Sternritter. Ichigo looks down at the floor in thought.

There is a deathly quiet.

"Who are you?" Haschwalth demands.

"... Kurosaki Ichigo?" Yhwach soon mutters. But that's impossible, that boy is only 15, and...

A sinister grin creeps to the corners of Ichigo's mouth. "I am... the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come." His voice distorts ominously as he finishes the sentence; his skin blanches to a pallid white; his hair flies back as if in the wind, suddenly long and flowing; and his eyes glow like embers before a horned skull mask forms over his face.

The room is cast in an altogether different red from the hallways, one of pure rage, before it gains that other color, splattered and splayed across the walls and floor and ceiling as judgment is rendered upon the Quincy once more.

I can't say that you're losing me I always tried to keep myself tied to this world Though I know where this is leading

Sometime later he is atop Karakura Hospital, once more wreathed in a shihakushō. Locating Ryūken is easy. He's in the man's office in a flash.

Ryūken looks up from his paperwork with a frown. Something about the face is strangely familiar, but... "Shinigami aren't welcome here."

Ichigo grins and casually tosses something onto his desk. "You should tell your son the truth."

Yhwach's head lands upon the desk with a wet thud, rolling to face Ryūken with an expression of mute terror as it oozes red ichor onto the papers.

Ryūken's eyes go wide in alarm and snap up toward the coldly arrogant face that he now all too clearly sees resembles Isshin's. For the first time in quite a while, he grasps for words.

Ichigo slowly lifts a finger to his lips in an exaggerated gesture of "Shh," raising his eyebrows. "Don't tell him. Wouldn't want to spoil the surprise, now would we?"

Ryūken isn't able to blink before Ichigo turns and opens a garganta, disappearing.

Please No tears No sympathy

Ichigo is less thorough in Hueco Mundo by choice. He's already in his Hollow form by the time he enters Las Noches and he doesn't dally. He liquidates Yammy and Szayelaporro in a perfunctory way, leaves Grimmjow thrashed but alive on his way to terminating Rudbornn and Zommari, and viciously crushes Ulquiorra to within a millimeter of his life. Perhaps it's a mistake, but perhaps they will have utility. He only needs to make sure of two targets, after all. Everything else is... sporting.

He gives Aaroniero all of his attention, because their meeting is personal.

By the time he's confronted by Starrk, Baraggan, and Harribel, he's already satisfied and sated. The rulers of Hueco Mundo may keep their crowns of sand. He departs as quickly as he arrived, leaving them perplexed but warily grateful in the shattered ruins of Las Noches.

I can't say that you're losing me But I must be that which I am Though I know where this could take me

Ichigo is again back in black by the time he steps out of Soul Society's senkaimon, but he has no time to tarry. In an instant he is at the doors to the Captains' Assembly Hall, knowing them all to be there. He stops to shove the doors open theatrically with both hands, standing squarely in the entryway.

He has enough time to look up and down their ranks before Yamamoto can even begin to rebuke the interruption. He has never been affected by Kyōka Suigetsu—would it even matter anyway, since it's a different timeline?—and easily ascertains that yes, Aizen is really there.

"What is the meaning of—" Yamamoto begins.

Ichigo has already stopped in front of Aizen, and stabbed him through both the soul sleep and binding chain. There are no errors in it—of this he is absolutely certain. He follows up by snatching his glasses with his off-hand and upper-cutting him backwards through the wall with his swordhand.

The Captains have enough time to widen their eyes in shock, but not to track the events, when Gin and Kaname are each kicked through the walls in turn.

Once they can move, Ichigo has already grabbed Byakuya and disappeared.

No tears No sympathy

They pop back into existence in the lair of the conspirators.

Byakuya stands tall after being flung toward a computer bank, reaching for Senbonzakura's hilt. "You—"

Ichigo holds up a finger to silence him and begins working a keyboard, his every motion showing his utter disinterest and lack of concern. "Do you really think that tormenting Rukia for 49 years was what Hisana had in mind?" he asks quietly.

Byakuya falters but for a split-second, but for him, that is more than enough. "What..."

"You made two promises you shouldn't have: to your parents to defend the rules, and to her to protect your sister. Which will you keep?" Ichigo muses.

"Who are you?!" Byakuya demands, letting his temper flare through.

"I'm..." Ichigo begins as he enters the final keystrokes. A pedestal emerges from the floor in the center of the room, rising up, bearing the glittering form of a Hōgyoku. He walks over and takes it, studying it for a second before pocketing it and turning to face Byakuya directly, looking him dead in the eyes. I really want to use that 'the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come' line again, but... "You think that if you don't obey the rules, who will? Well, I'm a Shiba. And if I was you, I would definitely... fight the rules."

Byakuya's eyes widen before he narrows them down to slits. "Shiba...? What do you want?"

Ichigo watches him placidly for a moment. "'Dying to exterminate great evil. Know that this is the spirit of the Gotei 13,'" he recites, before glancing at the computers. "You'll find proof of the crimes of Aizen, Ichimaru Gin, and Tōsen Kaname in these."

With that, he turns away.

"What is your given name, Shiba?" Byakuya asks.

Ichigo smiles to himself. It'll make things more amusing. "Ichigo," he says, and disappears again.

No tears for me, no sympathy

It's early afternoon when he appears at home. He can immediately tell that Karin and Yuzu are at school as are... he and Rukia. He frowns at the thought and heads into the clinic.

Isshin is at his desk working on a report. Something tells him it's Ichigo that's just entered, but... "You're home early?"

Ichigo casually tosses Aizen's glasses onto the desk such that they slide to rest in front of his dad, the lenses cracked from how he grabbed them.

Isshin blinks at them in confusion, then recognition, before turning around. His face falters in shock.

"You should tell your son the truth," Ichigo repeats solemnly, studying his father's eyes for a second. He turns and adds "This weekend," before walking out.

He takes a glance around the living room before teleporting to the roof. He'll have more than enough time to eliminate Ginjō, Tsukishima, and Giriko, grab Yukio and Riruka, bring them to this Kisuke, explain everything, and be back here before he has to move on. I should probably help him out and get him a present to give Yoruichi when she shows up...

No tears for me, no sympathy

By the time Ichigo returns, it's after midnight. He knows the other him and Rukia are asleep even from outside. Appearing in his bedroom, he ponders Ichigo the Younger for a time. Producing the Hōgyoku, he begins the kidō ritual to seal it within his younger self's soul.

Once he finishes, he goes to the closet door and cracks it open to consider Rukia. The wan light casts a fine line across her face, but she doesn't rouse.

Ichigo contemplates her timelessness for a while, then his younger counterpart, and back again. They're a matching set now, in every way. Perhaps they can do something new with it—something more.

He quietly closes the closet door and departs for the Urahara Shop, whispering "See you around, Shinigami."

The rest of his journey is largely uneventful, until he's standing atop the Vestibule Road in the Soul King's Palace, surrounded by the Royal Guard and Divine Soldiers.

"Identify yourself, intruder," Senjumaru commands.

Ichigo throws his head back and laughs, resting Zangetsu on one shoulder. He eventually returns his gaze to their plane, tapping the sword against his shoulder as he proclaims "A horse! A horse!"

Zero Division exchange small, confused looks.

Ichigo gestures about with his free hand and swings the sword around to point it at Ichibē, waggling it slightly. "My kingdom for a horse!"

All weapons rise against him.

"Bald Guy, I thought you were the 'Monk Who Calls the Real Name'!? I am..." Ichigo grins for effect, "the Soul King!"

#Bleach #IchiRuki #IchiRukiMonth #IchiRuki Fanfic #ReclaimDeathberry

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kadtherine · 7 years

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this unruly mess i’ve made (2/?)

thank you so much for the feedback regarding the first chapter - it really means a lot to me and it makes me really happy each time i read your positive and kind words ! thank you a million times.

also, this chapter is really, really long - don’t know what came over me, but it’s pretty good. i hope.

METROPOLIS 2023

Rip sat down on a counter, rolling the bottle of beer between his hands as he watched his father tinker with his visor. His sudden appearance had been with a loud exuberant laugh, a tight embrace that had left Rip’s breathless even when freed of the hug and a genuine smile that was rarely seen in Booster Gold. Michael dragged Rip to a more secluded workshop where laid various futuristic tools and his Booster Gold attire. Rip watched with a content silence as his father re-worked the circuits of his visor, frowning in concentration at it.

“So,” Rip stopped in his movements at Michael’s voice, “I thought you’d be travelling space and time on behalf that of the Time Monsters.”

While the small jab made Rip snort, it didn’t stop his grip from tightening around his beer bottle. Clearing his throat, he shot his father half a smile.

“Time Masters,” he corrected, taking a sip of his drink.

“Tomato, tomahto,” Michael said, balancing a wrench in each hand as if pondering over the question. Twirling the tool between his fingers, he raised an eyebrow at him, “Anyway, you didn’t answer the question, kid.”

“Didn’t I?” Rip hummed, hiding a grimace behind his beer. He sighed when Michael stopped his tinkering, crossing his arms and leaning back against his work station, “I didn’t. Well, it turned out they were in league with Savage and had been manipulating us along so… We, sort of, blew them up.".

Rip couldn’t help but wince again when his father stretched out his neck before retracting it, blinking as he seemed to process what he had been told.

”’ Sort of?’ And what do you mean, ‘we’?“

"Well, we destructed the Oculus which led to the Vanishing Point exploding,” Rip said in a nonchalant way, as if he were talking about what he had eaten at lunch, “As for the 'we’, I was referring to my t- former team. I had recruited them to go after Savage and save both Miranda and Jonas. It didn’t turn out quite as I had planned,” he muttered, taking another swing of his beer.

Michael hummed in a noncommittal way, wiping his forehead with his arm before he threw both wrenches in his toolbox and holding his fingers in eyesight.

“And where are they now?” Michael inquired, holding out a hand, “can you pass me that flat screwdriver?”

“Probably in Aruba,” he muttered, snorting at his father’s puzzlement, “At their requests. Knowing them, they are probably wreaking havoc as we speak,” he continued as he handed his father the tool he had been playing with.

“You don’t seem to worried about that,” he remarked on, spinning the screwdriver between his fingers.

Downing the rest of his drink, Rip let himself slip from the counter and gave a small shrug.

“I’ve spent half a year traveling with this lot, I’ve resigned myself to chaos happening ever now and then,” he sighed, leaning back, “Beside, they’re not my responsibility anymore.”

Once again, Michael hummed, keeping silent as he tinkered with how equipment. He kept silence and Rip can’t help the sudden burst of gratitude and love that he felt toward his father. Their relation was a complicated one - seeing as both were time travelers and had lived their share of adventures separately. Rip didn’t know if the things he knew about Michael were from the lessons he had learned on Booster Gold, at the Academy, or if they were tidbits of memories from a long forgotten childhood. Rip had been sure he was a born-and-raised Londoner until a raid in the Academy’s file room, where he had found that his full name had been Michael Richard Carter Jr, born in 27th century to one Michael Jon Carter and an unknown mother. Rip remembered meeting his father, a wedding invitation clenched in his - sweating - hands as he stood outside his house, listening to his and Ted Kord’s laughter filled conversation. He remembered Michael’s weariness, anger, hope and finally elatation as he swept him a hug that could only be qualify as fatherly before dragging him into the house and bragging about a son he hadn’t known was alive until seconds ego. From that moment, Rip had tried to visit Michael at the same time period, which had proved difficult because of the latter’s profession and inability to stay in one place and time for too long.

Watching as his father leaned against the table, frowning down at his visor, Rip couldn’t help but smile. He had learned of Booster Gold ahead of meeting him and had known of his public persona - the egocentric and over-the-top that had became a hero because of good looks and stolen material. While he knew that both figures were one and he same, Rip couldn’t reconcile Booster with the person that had tucked him in bed for the first four years of his life.

With a satisfied sigh, Michael put down his visor and wiped his greasy hands with a rag before tuning to Rip with a smile.

“Well, I’m happy to see you,” he cradled Rip’s face in his hands, rubbing his cheeks with his thumbs, “no matter the circumstances.”

Rip smiled back at his father, groaning when the latter patted his cheeks with a smirk before moving away. With no more beer bottle to occupy his hands with, Rip shoved them in his pockets and cleared his throat.

“What about you? How have things been?”

“Boring,” Michael retorted with a grimace as he shrugged off his blue overalls and grabbed a black jean from a drawer, “It’s been strangely quiet around Metropolis. Quiet enough for the League to not be needed.”

“That is strange,” Rip frowned, his head tilted to the side, “and the others?”

“All gone their own ways,” Michael shrugged, taking a swing of his beer, “Teddy’s back in Star City, the Bat is in Gotham and farm boy is visiting his mother in Smallville. Not sure where Hal and Dinah disappeared to, though,” he muttered with a frown, oblivious to his son’s perplexed expression.

“Dinah? Drake?” Rip asked, hoping that the dread he suddenly felt was about something else.

“Lance,” he corrected, as if it were obvious, “y'know, Black Canary? Has longue blonde hair, wears fishnets, makes your ears bleed with her super sonic cry? That Dinah. Actually, I remember you having crush on her.”

“No, that’s you. You’re just projecting,” Rip’s sarcastic retort to his father’s teasing was automatic, almost robotic.

His head was buzzing, because he was pretty sure that Dinah Laurel Lance had been killed by Darkh in 2016. He knew she had been killed - he could feel his cheek stink at the mere remembrance of Sara’s furious punch. Yet, here she was, in the future as if her death had been a dream or a fake memory placed in their minds as some kind of twisted motivation. He didn’t acknowledge Michael’s confused and concerned frown, restraining a sigh of relief when Skeets reappeared over their heads and taking the focus away from him.

“We’ve got visitors, boss.”

Rip barely had the time to react before Michael had moved back to where his costume, flexing his fingers as he slipped on his gloves.

“Friend or foe?”

“I’m not sure, actually. They seem quite hostile.”

As if on cue, the bells hanging above the front door chimed, followed by two set of footsteps. Rip slipped a hand behind his back, his fingers wrapping themselves around the gun tucked in his waistband. Noticing the small gesture, Michael gave him a nod before he made his way toward the front of the shop, Rip close on his heels.

“We’re closed, folks,” he announced, hands shoved in his pockets.

Rip turned the corner and froze at the sight of the two familiar figures. Eve Baxter was clad in her usual attire, locks of hair sticking on her bloody forehead. Next to her stood a dishelved Jonah Hex, sticking out like a sore thumb surrounded by cars and futuristic trinkets. Neither seemed much impressed - or scared - by the duo. Eve turned her stare to Rip - who didn’t flinch when a shark-like grin pulled at her lips.

“I don’t think you’d mind giving shelter to two travelers, lost in time and space.”

Oh bollocks. They had really done it now.

LOS ANGELES, 2017.

“Well, I concur that this wouldn’t have happen if we hadn’t gone along with Mr Rory’s ridiculous idea.”

“How is this my fault? I’m not the one who crashed the ship. Plus Gideon is the one who plotted the course.

"Mick’s right,” Amaya sighed, falling in the library’s couch, “we would have been caught in a time quake no matter the destination.”

“ Yeah, but what caused it, though?” Nate frowned as he read notebook after notebook, in search of an answer.

Sara closed her eyes for a moment, her fingers raising to her throbbing head. She could already feel a bruise forming. After having catching sight of dinosaurs roaming around the Waverider, they had decided - minus Ray and Jax, who were currently taking a survey around the ship - to retreat to the library to find out how exactly they had find themselves into this mess. She reopened her eyes to see that had Amaya had joined Nate in his research while Stein and Mick were engaged in a loud round of bickering. As if things couldn’t get worse, Gideon was unresponsive.

“Isn’t it obvious? Ask Blondie,” Mick grumbled, nodding toward Sara.

Sara swallowed a groan when three heads turned to her, gazes staring right through her with different levels of confusion.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Whose brilliant plan has it to go back in time and steal from our former selves?” Mick said, unfazed by her glare.

“Last time I checked, you were all willing participants,” Sara retorted, shooting out of her chair.

But you’re the captain, Lance, a mocking voice inwardly reminded her, all responsibilities and choices made fall back on your shoulders. Her jaw clenched, Sara put both her hands on her hips and breathed through her noise, trying to ground herself.

“Look, right now. We just need to find a way out of this mess without fucking things up even more,” Sara said, her gaze moving from Mick to Martin, “we’re all stuck here together and we won’t make it out of here if we keep arguing or pushing the fault on each other.”

While Mick acknowledged the small speech with a grunt and a swing of his beer, Martin had the decency to look chastised, muttering an apology. Letting out a sigh, Sara leaned back against the desk and ran her fingers through her hair as a tense silence fell back onto the room. Hopefully, Ray and Jax had been more successful in their endeavors. As if they had been able to hear her thoughts, both men arrived in the time library, grim expressions plastered on their faces.

“Want to hear the bad news or the even worse news?” Jax announced in mock enthusiasm, clutching a tablet in his hand

Sara restrained the urge to let her head fall into her hands and scream, choosing to push herself off the desk and stood in front of the two, her face blank and her arms crossed.

“The worse, let’s get it over with.”

“Well, to put it bluntly, we can’t get off the ground,” Ray said, rubbing the back of his neck, “the Waverider is literally into it and we don’t have enough power to take off.”

“Can’t we try to time jump out of here?” Sara asked, frowning at the two.

“Not if you want to get into another time storm and end up in the Middle Age with saber tooth tigers chasing you,” Jax muttered, sighing when met with Sara’s blank stare, “We wouldn’t be able to make it. All systems are offline for the moment, which means we have to switch off to manual and trust me, you don’t want to navigate your way through the temporal zone while blind.”

“And we can’t assess all the exterior damages substained without going outside. For all we know, none of our engines are working,” Ray added, running a hand over his face.

Sara wondered if she looked as physically drained and defeated as their usual optimistic and literal Ray of sunshine. She hoped not. Scratching the back of her head, Sara cocked her head to the side and swallowed the frustrated groan that had risen up her throat.

“Alright, what about the bad news?”

Her frown deepened when Jax and Ray exchanged a look before the younger of the two turned to face her, clearing his throat.

“We found out why Gideon wasn’t responding,”

“I don’t understand,” Amaya said, mirroring her confusion, “ How is that a bad news?”

Jax responded with a sigh and left the room, Ray close on his heels as he gestured for the rest of the team to follow them. Rolling her eyes at their dramatics, Sara threw a look over her shoulder before following them out of the library. She didn’t need to turn around to know that Martin, Mick, Amaya and Nate were behind her, curiosity urging them to follow.

Sara froze in her tracks where she saw Jax and Ray disappear into Rip’s opened quarters. The Captain’s quarters that were supposed to be de facto hers. Quarters that were still filled with maps, books and trinkets that belonged to their former Captain. Sara could count on a hand the times she had went in Rip’s quarters, the latter having the bad habit to fall asleep in his couch or armchair - or simply, on his desk - after long nights of research spent in his study. It wasn’t as if the access to it was forbidden - Sara was pretty sure it was mandatory for the Captain’s quarters to be opened to the rest of the crew. She just didn’t feel right walking in it while he wasn’t here - it almost like walking into the room of a recently deceased person.

Shaking herself out of her morbid thoughts, Sara cleared her throat and walked into the chambers. Only to freeze again at the sight she found in there. Jax and Ray were both standing next to the bed, bracing themselves for their reactions. Reactions to the familiar - real - brunette woman sitting on the bed, naked and shivering - no matter how many blankets Jax seemed to have wrapped her in - her eyes wide opened as she stared back at her.

“Gideon,” Sara breathed out, oblivious to the cries of bewilderment and confusion.

After a long and frustrating - to Sara’s opinion - discussion about how they knew that it was indeed Gideon because they had seen her human form when they had been travelling through Rip’s mind, Sara had found some clothes for her to wear and they had relocated to the med bay, to Martin’s insistence. Sara stood back, arms crossed and a frown plastered on his face, as Martin examined Gideon. Though she hadn’t shown the same shock and amazement than her other crew mates, there was something quite unsettling about seeing Gideon as well as hearing her. The fact that she was actually wearing - and looked unfairly good in - her clothes did nothing to ease her unsettlement.

Ray, standing next to her in a similar position, seemed to be reacting in a quiet and uncharacteristic way. It probably had to do with the fact that he had been the first one, along Jax, to find her. Maybe he was in shock and wasn’t fully aware of the situation. Maybe he had just gotten used to seeing weird, impossible things came true and time aberrations were losing some of its exciting novelty. Sara sighed and focused her attention back on Gideon.

She observed as Martin palped her neck with careful fingers before they moved behind her ears, massaging his temples. He hummed, muttering under his breath before he clicked his pen and scribbled something on his notepad. Sara winced in unisson with Ray when Martin reached for a long needle, flicking the tip of it with two fingers, nodding in satisfaction before he put it pack down down. He cleared his threat and looked up to Gideon with a patient and kind smile that only fathers seemed to be able to give.

“Do you have an arm you’d prefer for me to withdraw blood from?”

“Well, seeing as I didn’t have any until recent events,” Gideon sighed, pushing back both sleeves of her - Sara’s - white sweater and holding her bare arms in front of he, “I’d say I don’t particularly care. Whichever you’d prefer, Professor Stein.”

“Is that really necessary?” Ray said, watching with scrunched up features as Martin tied a rubber band around Gideon’s arm and sanitized the inside of her elbow.

“Well, of course!” Martin said, scandalized by the mere suggestion, “Captain Lance has asked me to be thorough with Gideon’s medical examinations and that is what I’m doing.”

Ray turned his accusing stare to Sara, the latter ignoring it as she watched Gideon barely flinched when the needle pricked her skin. She took note of her subtle clench of jaw and shot Gideon a comforting smile.

“Dr Palmer, if you would?” Martin held the blood filled needle to Ray, instructing Gideon to hold a ball of cotton against her elbow.

“W-what?” Ray stuttered, going pale as he watched the needle.

He winced when Sara elbowed him in the ribs, muttering about the blonde’s bony elbow as he moved forward and grabbed the needle out of Martin’s hands with trembling fingers. Swallowing the bile that had risen up his throat, Ray transferred the blood into a test tube before throwing away the needle with a dramatic shudder. Sara rolled his eyes at her dramatics and walked to Gideon and Martin, the latter applying a bandaid to her elbow before gently squeezing her arm. Gideon shot him a small smile, a whispered thank you leaving her lips as she pulled down her sleeves and wrapped herself in the comforter she had dragged into the medbay.

“You are aware you could have asked me about my vitals, right?” Gideon said, cocking an eyebrow when met with three confused gazes, “To my knowledge, my tension isn’t higher or lower than the one of a regular female human being of my age. My eye sight do not seem to be impaired or in need of an aid, such as glasses. my other senses are as well as good they were, if not slightly heightened. In fact, I seem to be in perfect health, if you were to ignore my lower than normal body temperature and sudden hunger.”

Ray and Sara stared at Gideon, mouth opened in bewilderment while Martin had a wide grin plastered on his face. A chuckle escaped his lips as he snapped off his surgical gloves and threw them in a bin.

“Astonishing,” he said, earning a snort from Ray and an eye roll from Sara, “It is truly amazing.”

“It is,” Sara agreed, smiling when Gideon sat up straighter at the praise, “Ray, take Gideon to the galley. Make sure she eats something and drinks something big before she kneels over.”

Ray responded with a mock salute before helping Gideon off the colt, an arm wrapped around her waist as he walked her out of the med may, his slow steps matching her shaky ones. Sara waited for the doors to close behind them before she walked to Martin, the latter reviewing his notes.

“So what do you think?” Sara sighed, her hands shoved in her pockets, “Is she our Gideon?”

“Well, she matches the physical description Jefferson and yourself gave us and her memories - if we can call them that - match those of our dear Gideon,” Martin said, leaning against the cot with his hands crossed in front of him.

“It doesn’t make sense, though,” she mimicked the Professor’s posture, her eyebrows frowned in concentration and slight frustration, “how can she be physically here?”

“In case it has escaped your notice, Miss Lance, there are dinosaurs currently roaming Los Angeles,” he elbowed her side, a teasing smile on his face.

“Wait- you think Gideon’s a time aberration?” His only response was a tilt of the head to the side. Sara groaned, running her fingers through her hair, “Great. Awesome. Fucking fantastic.”

Martin clicked his tongue and frowned in disapproval, earning a small smile from Sara. With a last sigh, she pushed herself off the bed and made her way out of the med bay, walking backward.

“Team meeting in the kitchens in five. We need to figure our next step before T-Rex’s decided to claw the doors off.”

She turned back around when met with a positive response, rubbing her neck with the heel of her hand. She needed - wanted - a back rub. Actually, she needed more than that but it would have to wait. Sara froze at the door when she arrived at the kitchen. Gideon sat at a single table, still wrapped in her comforter, while eating from a bowl of cereals set in front of her. Ray had set a glass of orange juice and mug of hot chocolate by her food.

While Amaya stood behind her, running her fingers through Gideon’s hair before she decided to braid it humming mindlessly under her breath, Nate and Mick sat opposite her, watching with frowned eyebrows and arms crossed as Gideon went through her cereals with eagerness and curiosity. Ray was sitting on the kitchen counter, his own bowls of Fruit Loops on his lap, lost in his own world. He caught her eye across the room and gave her a small nod, sliding off the counter. The small gesture seemed to alert the others to her presence as they all turned as one. Bracing herself for the assault of questions, Sara pushed back her sleeve and entered the kitchen, only then noticing, with a frown, the absence from of their engineer.

“Hey, where’s Jax?”

“He’s trying to see if he can recalibrate the time drive,” Ray replied, cleaning off the table for Gideon with a small smile, “do you want me to go and get him?”

Before Sara had the chance to open her mouth to reply, she was brought to her knees by a loud and piercing cry. She was vaguely of the bowls in Ray’s crashing to the floor as he brought his hands up to cover his ears. From the corner of her eyes, she could see that Amaya had wrapped herself around Gideon while Nate had stayed upright, immediately steeling up at the sound. The cry, eventually, came to an end, leaving all of them with ringing ears. Her head throbbing, Sara slowly got up to her feet and took a look around the room, watching as the rest of the Legends gather themselves.

Ray rushed - more like wobbled on shaky legs - to Gideon, the latter frowning at the red staining her fingers. Amaya called for Martin, her tone urgent as she noticed the blood leaking from her ear.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Gideon muttered, wincing when Ray gently turned her head so she was facing him.

“ ‘What the bloody hell’s’ right,” Mick grunted as he shoot out of his chair, his grip tightening around his gun

Sara walked in front of him, a firm hand pushing back. Mick growled down at her, to which she responded with an unimpressed cocked eyebrow. Mick gave a last grunt before lowering his gun so the canon was facing the floor and walked back. Having been busy stopping Mick from going out and try to roast dinosaurs, Sara hadn’t notice Martin’s arrival in the galley. The older man had taken Ray’s place in front of Gideon, ignoring as Amaya and Ray hovered, concerned frowns matching.

“Guys,” Nate called, having regained his fleshy appearance.

Swallowing - an umptenth - groan of frustration, Sara went through join at the windows, freezing for a second when she noticed what had caught Nate’s attention. She heard Amaya’s quiet gasp, informing of her presence beside her.

“They’re retreating,” she said, watching the spectacle of T-Rex’s walking away from their preys, without even trying to take a bit of it.

“Astonishing,” Martin whispered, having left Gideon’s side to join their contemplation.

Sara rolled her eyes and crossed her arms against her chest, glaring out the window as the gigantic beasts walked. They all seemed to be walking in synch, as if they had been ordered to left their metallic carcasse. As if they were programmed machines.

“More like convenient,” she retorted, her head tilted to the side and her bottom lip stuck between her teeth.

As if her words were some kind of cue, Sara heard the cargo bay door lower down. A silence fell over the kitchen and her hands tightened into fists in reaction. The rational part of her brain suggested that it was probably Jax playing around the ship’s machinery and making sure everything worked as it should. The dread in her stomach warned her that it was something else. Sara threw a look behind her, finding six pairs of eye staring back at her, hesitant. The annyance plastered on Martin’s face caught her eye, causing the dread to worsen.

“What is it, Professor?”

He let out a shaky breath and shook his head, rubbing his left wrist with a small grimace.

“I’m not quite sure, actually. I just suddenly felt… really angry.”

That was when they heard the heavy pairs of boots running up the ramp and walked and into the ship.

With her bo staff no where in sight, Sara grabbed the first knife she saw and slid into her boot before she turned around to face the rest of the team, her face blank.

“Amaya, Mick : I’ll need you to stay Gideon and the professor,” she held up finger before he could protest, “we need to cover all bases, who knows how many or them are here?”

Sara, then, pointed two fingers to Nate and Ray, indicating them to follow her with a jerk of her head. They walked down the halls in an eery silence, as if inwardly preparing themselves for a fight. Ray was fumbling with the repulsor glove - which Sara hadn’t even noticed earlier - while Nate shook his hands and rolled his neck and shoulders.

“Don’t steel on until threatened,” Sara smirked when seeing his confuse and frustrated frown, “we have the advantage on them, let’s not exposed ourselves to them and lose it.”

“I’ll say that them forcing their ways on board is enough of a threat,” Nate muttered.

Sara rolled her eyes before she caught sight of the intruders and stopped in her tracks, forcing the other two to do the same. Three figures stood in front of them, riffles pointed forward and fingers brushing on triggers. She swallowed a growl when she noticed Jax on his knees, his tools scattered around him as his arm had been forced behind his back by a fourth person. As she moved toward him, she heard the safety being clicked off.

“Stay right where you are,” one of them barked.

A guy. Mid-thirties. Barely a head taller than her, Sara inwardly assessed, cold blue eyes raking over his body - body devoid of any armor or protection. She could take him out in the blink of an eye. She would have if it wasn’t for Jax’s predicament. She decided to stay on the safe side and replied with a smile, taking a step back with her hands up. Ray moved to stand in front of her, his gloved hand hidden his back and his bare Ray one raise in a sign of compliance.

“There’s no need for drastic measures, we’re all innocent and responsible adults here.

"What are you, some kind of hero-wannabe?” another henchman snarled, earning snickers from the other two.

From the corner of her eye, Sara could see Ray swallow his retort and fake a laugh, his gloved hand tightening behind his back. Keeping his composure, he plastered a smile on his face and took a slow, careful step forward.

“I’m just trying to minimize the damage, guys,” Ray kept his tone lighthearted and his attitude aloof before his gaze settled onto Jax, his smile letting place to a frown, “You alright?”

“Peachy, dude. Just enjoying myself on the dirty floor. Wouldn’t mind if that freaking psycho let go of my arm!”

Jax’s captor glowered down at him before he twisted his arm with unnecessary force, causing a cry of pain out of Jax. Screw this, Sara barely had the time to take a step toward him, her fingers reaching into her boot for a knife before she was met with the rifle’s barrel and an ugly scowl.

“I said, stay right where you are,” he hissed.

Sara met his glare with a cold, indifferent stare and lifted her chin up, as if daring him to press the trigger. Too engaged in her battle of stares, she was barely aware of the fifth pair of footsteps - roots that seemed to be wearing high heels - until the new arrival made her presence known.

“Now, now, fellas. There’s no need for that,” she scolded, her tone mocking.

With a frown, Sara tore her gaze away from the henchman to find the source of the - somehow - familiar voice. Her gaze fell onto the tall - hot - all dressed in back brunette assessing the scene with attentive eyes. One of her fingers mindlessly played with one of her curls while her other hand was clenched around a large gun. As she squinted her eyes at it, Sara swore she could see some kind of gold substance in its charger. Brown eyes met blue, and her previously bored expression let place to a wide smirk as she practically skipped to the blonde.

“Ralphie, baby,” she put two fingers on the barrel and lowered it so the canon was facing the floor, “Pretty sure we need them alive if we want to interrogate.

” 'Interrogate. ?“ Nate chimed in, talking a step forward.

"Well, of course!” she tilted her head to the side, a small giggle escaping her lips, “we can’t exactly leave you roaming around the city after you just appeared out of thin air in a stolen time ship.”

Frowning, Sara turned her gaze to Nate and mouthed 'stolen’, the latter shrugging in response, his confusion matching hers. Both looked to Ray, the latter being uncharacteristically quiet as he stared, unblinking, at the other woman. It managed to catch her attention, her focus shifting from Sara to Ray. She cocked an eyebrow and it was apparently all was needed for him to speak.

“You’re Lisa Snart,” he blurted out, his tone filled with awe and suspicion.

Both eyebrows up to her hairline, Lisa let out a surprised laugh and Sara couldn’t help but compare her to her late brother. Where Leonard had been - no pun intended - cold and calculated, Lisa seemed more vibrant and careless. Leonard had been ruthless and Lisa seemed to be easily swayed. Sara willed herself to focus harder and once she saw it, there was no going back. She recognized the mischievousness shining through the pain she had seen in Leonard’s eyes. She noticed discreet, small mannerisms Lisa had surely picked up from her big brother. Sara saw behind the careful picked mask of a bored, dimwit woman and found Lisa Snart.

Lisa slowly made her say to Ray, brushing past Sara - and discreetly pushing her backward as she did so - to plant herself in front of the taller main.

“I see I found myself at a disadvantage here, handsome. You seem to know who I am and unfortunately I can’t say the same about you,” Lisa crossed her arms, her gun carelessly dangling from her fingers.

“Palmer. I mean Ray! I- I mean. I’m Ray Palmer,” Ray stammered out, slightly unsettled by Lisa’s piercing stare. Nate groaned and let his head fall in his hands.

“Hum,” Lisa pursed her lips in thoughts, her eyes narrowed, “Ray Palmer. Why does that sound so familiar?”

“Cause he’s dead,” an unfamiliar voice intervened from behind her, causing the Legends to take action as they turned around.

Nate steeled on while Ray held up his gloved hand, aiming to fire at the young woman who Sara knew hadn’t been there seconds ago. She racked her gaze over their fighting stances before snorting and literally disappearing in thin air, with a pop. Sara closed her eyes, letting out a breath before she turned back around, her migraine coming back with a vengeance. And now, they had to deal with metahumans. If it hadn’t been for her years of training in the League, she’d probably either be screaming or crying out in frustration.

Her eyes reopened at a popping sound, unsurprised when she found the dark-haired woman standing next to Lisa, twirling the knife that had previously been in Sara’s fingers.

“Died when his compagny went ka-boom a couple of years ago,” she continued, as if she had been here since the beginning. And maybe she had.

“Aw, shame,” Lisa pouted before her grip tightened around her gun, her grin almost feral, “Now, who are you really? Former Time Masters? Time pirates?”

“Time pirates-” Nate spluttered, his head snapping up, “We’re actually who we say we are.”

“Which is…what? Felons? Morons?”

“A nice addition to my golden statues’ collections?” Lisa added, her tone disturbingly giddy.

Nate gaped at her before he turned to Ray, slapping his arm with a muttered dude, back me up. Ray paid him no mind, his attention on the newest arrival.

“It’s Shawna, right?” A small smirk tugged at his lips at the brief surprise showing on her, “or Peek-A-Boo, I guess. Y'know, you two are the last people I expect to accuse someone else of felony. Or anyone of your merry bands of rogues. Speaking of, should we expect any more of you?”

Now, Nate was gaping at Ray, staring at him as if he was already picturing the flowers he’d pick for his funerals. As he made to move toward toward the taller man, Sara grabbed his arms, nails digging into his flesh and forcing him to look back at her. She loosened her grip at the sight of his grimace and gave a subtle shake of head. While Ray was always beaming with optimism and positivity and had dreams of great adventures, he wasn’t an idiot. After making sure that Nate wouldn’t intervene, she let go of his arm and turned her attention back onto Ray and Shawna, both oblivious to their silent conversation

“You think you can appeal to me by throwing facts around?” Shawna sneered.

“Of course not, anyone with access to Internet could tell you that,” Ray replied, undeterred, “Which is why I’m trying to appeal to her,” he added, nodding toward Lisa.

Letting out a short laugh, Lisa jutted out her hip and cocked her head to the side.

“And why do I think I’ll be more incline to believe you?”

Ray’s responding smile was genuine, almost fond.

“Because I knew your brother.”

There it is, Sara thought as she watched Lisa’s smirk vanish and her grip tightening around her gun.

“Careful, Pretty Boy. You’re on thin ice, right now.

Nate muttered something about puns obviously being a family thing. Sara shushed him. She liked the puns.

"The guy might have acted tough, but he was a tender heart. He had a sweet tooth, used to drown his pancakes in maple syrup,” Ray gave a small short at the memory, “I told him it was disgusting and he responded by taking my plate and leaving the room. He couldn’t sleep with the door closed, either. I used to find out weird at first, but who was I to meddle in something that’s none of my business?”

Lisa still stood strong, her gun held out in front of her - Sara noticed the hand holding it trembling. She caught sight of Lisa’s brown eyes and noticed that her resolve was starting to crumble, her mask slowly sliding off her face and exposing a grieving sister. Behind her, Sara could see the henchmen growing restless and Shawna growing incertain. Holding his hands up, Ray took the risk of taking a step forward. To everyone’s surprise, Lisa took a step back.

“He had this bear on his bed - he always made it, by the way. A brown teddy pair wearing a blue parka and a pair of goggles. He also had this necklace. None of us made fun of it, cause…,” Ray shrugged, “Well, your brother was kinda terrifying.”

“I gave that to him,” Lisa muttered, her arm slowly lowering, much to Sara’s relief. She cleared her throat and shot Ray a small smile, “it was a joke. Found it next to the Flash in the toy section. The necklace’s mine,” her fingers brushed the pendant hanging from her neck, “we switched them so we always had something of the other to hang on to.”

“Does that mean you believe me, Lisa?” Ray asked, his voice soft as if he didn’t want to disrupt her train of thoughts.

Lisa blew out a breath and, a second later, a cocky smirk found itself back onto her face.

“For now, Ray Palmer.”

“Oh, that is bullshit,” one of the henchmen - Richie - protested, “What, he feeds you some sob story and you fall for it?”

Sara barely has the time to blink before the rogue was standing in front of Richie, the barrel of her gun pointed to the space between his eyes. You could almost hear a pin drop. The other henchmen stared,unsure of what do - of who to point their guns on. Lisa trailed a slow finger the length of Richie’s cheek, their bodies almost flushing together as she got closer.

“If you don’t shut your pretty mouth and question my authority again, I’ll make sure you’ll end up as a statue, standing guard in front of the refuge,” Lisa squeezed his cheeks, her cold ice cold, “Got it?”

“Now, now, Lisa,” a deep voice scolded, “There’s no need to ressort to violence. For now.”

With an eye roll, Lisa smirked at Richie, the latter responding with a whimper, and kissed him loudly on his cheek before she leaned back and skipped to the new arrival’s side. All those people appearing out of no where made Sara’s head spin.

“And who the hell are you?” Nate asked, voicing the Captain’s thoughts aloud.

He responded with a smirk, his eyes from one person to another as he scabbard from head to toe. He couldn’t be older than 20 and yet, he exuded confidence and authority. His short brown hair was swept to the side - as if he ran his fingers through it so many times that it had stuck that way. He was wearing a simple Henley shirt, covered by a dark leather jacket that matched his black pants. That wasn’t the pair of pants that caught Sara’s attention first, but the thigh holster strapped to his leg and the familiar gun in it. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he took a quick look around, his smile turning into something of a reminiscent, nostalgic smile, before his gaze fell onto Shawna.

“Take a look around the ship, there’s more to the crew than these,” he ordered.

Letting out a resigned sigh, Shawna gave him a nod and disappeared in a *pop. With half a smile, he turned back to the rest of his men and frowned on mock confusion, his head tilted to the side.

“You’d think it’d be for you to carry simple orders such as the one I gave you,” his green eyes darted to Jax’s kneeling form, his jaw clenched, “Let him up.”

As he went to protest the order, he was silenced by a simple raise of an eyebrow, as if dared to do anything other than obey, and reluctantly met Jaxup to his feet. Glaring at his captor, Jax brushed away his offering hand, much to the stranger’s amusement, and, giving the latter a wide berth, made to join the Legends’ side. Sara could only muster the force to shot him a smile and give his good arm a small squeeze. She would kill for a thirty minute nap. Hell, Sara was ready to let one of them shoot her if that meant she could close her eyes.

“Again, who the hell are you, dude?” Jax repeated Nate’s previous question, rubbing his sore arm.

“Seeing you’re the one trespassing, I don’t think you have the authority to ask questions,” he rolled his eyes when meeting the Legends’ matching frowns, “You do know that you are currently residing on a stolen military time ship.”

Her thoughts were jumbled and his accent was so odd that she couldn’t attach a nationality to it. Yet, his words carried a familiarity that left Sara second-guessing herself. Had they already met that guy? Nate put an end to her confusing train of thoughts with a long-suffering sigh.

“For the last time, we’re not trespassing, nor are we time pirates that stole the Waverider. We’ve been living for the past six months, at the very least. And plus, we’ve introduced ourselves. It’s only curtesy you do the same.”

“Wrong, he introduced himself,” he corrected, pointing a long finger at Ray, “and even if you truly are who you say are, Dr Palmer, it’s still doesn’t explain what are you doing on my father’s ship with him being nowhere in sight.”

Sara barely heard the whispered and confused 'father’ coming out from Nate’s mouth because all of her awareness was suddenly focused on the familiar stranger. She didn’t know how long it took for Ray or Jax to figure it out but she knew that they had come to the same conclusion as her. Maybe it was that piercing green gaze that seemed to hold all the secrets of the universe. Maybe that was that amused half smile, growing as he observed Jax. Or maybe it had been that futuristic gun strapped to his leg. It only took Sara’s gaze to fall onto a familiar golden pocket watch to know for certain.

Sara slowly lifted her head, blue wide eyes meeting the confused and weary green stare. When she spoke next, her voice came came out as a whisper, almost like a prayer.

“Jonas.”

Sara didn’t feel herself slipping to the floor. She didn’t hear he worried voices calling for her name. She barely remember losing consciousness. Sara did remember Jonas Hunter staring at her, green shining with wonder. She also remembered the cold floor and thinking that there were worst surfaces to fall asleep on.

you can read the first chapter here or here

you can also find this on ao3

my other works in the dclot fandom

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onebizarrekai · 7 years

Text

(Dreamswap) Another Outcome

In which things change.

(Somewhere in the Justice Reigns castle…)

Nightmare: … so, I guess this is it, huh?

Nightmare: Finally getting what you want, brother? My death?

Dream: Shut up. You should be glad that you’re allowed to speak at all. Don’t make me take that away.

Nightmare: That is odd, I must say. You’d think that listening to me talk would make you want to kill me less.

Nightmare: That’s why you’re mad all the time. Trying to shove it on me and make me be mad right back at you, so you want to hate me more. It’s just a trick.

(Dream shoves Nightmare up into the middle of some kind of complicated mechanism with many parts.)

Dream: I will silence you.

Nightmare: Like a cell phone?

Nightmare: Pft. Good luck, angel boy.

Nightmare: The hell is this thing? Some kinda fate splitter? I mean, I’d certainly assume so.

(Dream walks over to some kind of control panel.)

Dream: I have no reason to answer any questions.

(The room falls silent as Dream sets up whatever machine it is. Nightmare stands there, unable to move in his restraints, anyway.)

Nightmare: … Dream.

(Dream doesn’t respond.)

Nightmare: If this really is it…

Nightmare: Don’t you dare f#%k it up, you hear me?

Dream: What?

Nightmare: Go create your ideal multiverse, or whatever.

Nightmare: I will be pissed beyond belief if this doesn’t mean anything, and I think it’s easy to see why.

Nightmare: I’ll give you a painful death by haunting and drag you down to hell with me.

(Dream stops for a moment, then smiles.)

Dream: I assure you, that will not be necessary.

(Dream presses a button on the control panel and several machine parts move in on Nightmare at once, some locking him in place.)

Dream: Sweet dreams, dear brother.

(Nightmare hears Dream say this before his head begins to feel inexplicably foggy and numb as he passes out.)

(Nightmare feels consciousness return to him after who knows how long. He doesn’t know why… something in him feels very… empty and strange, something seems to be missing.)

(No, that’s not it.)

(Something seems to be getting taken out and something else getting put in its place.)

(He’s paralyzed, unable to even open his eyes. Was he even still alive? He felt like he was still stuck in that machine, maybe…)

(A voice nearby.)

(“Come on, almost.”)

(“Everything is going as expected.”)

(It’s definitely Dream’s voice. Maybe he is still alive after all…? Why?)

(The more time passes, the more drained he feels. What is Dream doing? Is this machine even supposed to kill Nightmare, or maybe…)

(Nightmare feels an imaginary sensation of something clicking into place inside him. He feels utterly empty, dead inside, stuck in this darkness behind closed eyes, and something foreign is trying to familiarize itself with his body.)

(… no, not his body.)

(His spirit…?)

(Suddenly, he is no longer frozen in place. His hands start to claw and shake, his body twitching where it can still move…)

(He still cannot speak. No sound is coming out.)

(Whatever just got thrown into his spirit feels like it’s shaping itself into him, filling in every corner. It’s not physically painful… it’s just… extremely uncomfortable.)

(But, as this continues on, it actually stops, and soon enough, it had shifted from bring uncomfortable to being comforting. His hands drop, his body stops twitching.)

(He feels warmer inside than he ever has in his life.)

(He manages to get a sound to leave his mouth.)

Nightmare: … Dream…

(He utters, and suddenly all restraints on him vanish and he falls forward, right into arms waiting to catch him, consciousness drifting away again almost immediately.)

Dream: I can’t sense the negative energy anymore…

Dream: It… worked…

(He looks down at his unconscious brother.)

Dream: … Night.

Dream: It worked. It worked!

Dream: And…

Dream: You’re still alive…

(He easily scoops up his smaller brother and carries him out of the room.)

(Nightmare wakes up in a bed.)

Nightmare: … What happened…

(He glances around the room, incredibly confused.)

(So… he wasn’t dead?)

Nightmare: What the hell is going on here…?

(He stops and shifts to internal focus, noticing that something seems a bit weird. He feels all warm and fuzzy. His generic bitterness seems… absent.)

(On the end of the bed is Dream bent over from a seat, sleeping on his arms.)

Nightmare: Dream?

(Dream jolts awake, sitting back up straight immediately.)

Dream: Well. I. I suppose I dozed off?

(Nightmare gives Dream a blatantly perplexed look.)

Dream: Um…

Dream: There are… some things to be discussed.

Nightmare: No s#%t.

Dream: … I couldn’t do it.

Nightmare: Kill me?

Dream: So… let me start from the beginning.

Dream: I dedicated copious research into discovering another solution.

Dream: There were a number of suggestions and hypothesis from those who were willing to support me, and ultimately, a plan was formulated surrounding something we weren’t even entirely sure would work.

Dream: But… anything was better.

Nightmare: Go on?

Dream: I thought that maybe, just maybe, I could extract the negative energy from your spirit without eliminating you along with it.

Dream: But of course, nothing would hold it together without it.

Dream: So… I had the energy replaced with another.

Nightmare: You… turned me into a positive spirit…?

Nightmare: Just like…

Dream: Like me.

(Nightmare sits there, taking it in.)

Nightmare: How am I the same…?

Dream: Well, put it this way. Our spirits have been fused with our bodies, and we developed personalities afterwards. Prior to that… we were just compositions of pure energy.

Nightmare: …

Nightmare: Why didn’t you tell me…?

Dream: …

Dream: I was afraid.

Nightmare: Afraid of telling me that you don’t want to kill me anymore? Dude, that makes literally zero sense.

Nightmare: I mean, honestly, I am kind of pissed. You like, changed my entire magical structure because of something you want and didn’t even tell me about it.

Dream: … okay, I actually think I could give rational responses to everything you just said, but I’m feeling too unbelievably emotional to actually do it. I can answer those questions later when I’m internally calm.

Nightmare: … all right then, a more practical question. If your spirit is supposed to be a representation of all the positive energy in the multiverse, where the heck could you find enough to make another?

Dream: Well… let’s just say that everything I’ve been doing hasn’t been for naught.

Nightmare: Holy s#%t. How does that even work?

Nightmare: You haven’t been making more positive energy, you’ve just been destroying the negative stuff!

Dream: Do you even pay attention to things? That’s not all we do and it never has been.

Dream: You were probably just too caught up in the fact that you were the mortal enemy of this organization.

Nightmare: Rightfully so.

Nightmare: Oh yeah, by the way. Where the heck did you stick my friends and literally let me see them right now.

Dream: You could just ask like a normal person.

Nightmare: Dude. They probably think I’m dead!

Nightmare: Unless you freakin explained this to them and not me.

Dream: … you know what perhaps that is a good idea.

Ink: uuUUUGH, are they done yet?

Ink: Why did I get stuck on watch for you guys? I’m not even a fricking guard.

Error: Shut the hell up. Cross is in shock.

Cross: he’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead, oh god he’s dead--

Ink: News flash, I don’t feel. No s#%ts given.

Error: That’s ironic. I thought that would make you feel less inclined to b#tch about this.

Error: I bet you’re just salty about getting replaced and witnessing that replacement.

Ink: Don’t even go there, Glasses.

(They hear footsteps off in a distance.)

Ink: Oh s#%t, whaddap. I think that’s the boss.

Error: That’s definitely more than one pair of footsteps.

(Ink’s eyes widen as the steps get closer, but Cross and Error can’t see the reason why.)

Dream: Ink, go upstairs.

(Ink’s brow furrows and he walks past Dream, glancing back as he does so.)

(Dream turns his attention to Cross and Error in the prison.)

Dream: There is… something you need to be made aware of…

Cross: You… YOU F#%KING MURDERER--

(Cross lunges at the bars, but freezes in place as Nightmare walks into his vision.)

Nightmare: Uh… yeah, I’m alive.

Cross: HHH

Cross: FFF????

Cross: WHAT

Cross: (incoherent confused swearing)

Nightmare: Cross--

Nightmare: Stop. Listen.

(Cross grips the bars, looking down.)

Cross: Let me out of here… Please…

Cross: Nightmare…

Nightmare: …

Dream: …

Nightmare: Say you won’t strangle my brother.

Cross: That asshole… is screwing with my mind on PURPOSE!

Nightmare: CROSS. Stop. Everything is going to be explained.

(Cross looks up at Nightmare, tears running nonstop down his face.)

Cross: …

Cross: Nightmare…? Your eyes…?

Cross: … Why are they yellow?

Cross: What did he do to you?!

(Nightmare stands there, giving an impatient look. Cross stops, staring at him with wide eyes.)

Cross: What did he turn you into…?

Nightmare: I’ll tell you. You just have to calm down.

Cross: I am calm.

Nightmare: No you’re not.

(Nightmare reaches through the bars and takes Cross’s hand.)

Nightmare: Everything is all right.

(Cross stands silently for a moment.)

Cross: … he did do something to you…

Cross: I recognize this.

(Dream unlocks the door and Cross immediately barges out. He pushes Dream out of the way and hugs Nightmare.)

Cross: But… it’s still you. I thought I was going to lose you forever.

(During their little moment, Error turns to Dream.)

Error: So what exactly happened?

Error: And why couldn’t you have told us?

Error: I had to listen to an hour and a half of Ink whining because of this and I swore more times in that timespan than I have in my entire life that I can remember.

(Dream sighs.)

Dream: … Come upstairs. I’ll explain what happened.

Cross: Okay I literally do not understand most of this shindig but basically you just took your own blinded perspective and changed Nightmare against his will because of it?

(Dream lowkey growls.)

Dream: Why do you always find something to be angry about?

Dream: My brother is alive and one would think you’d be more appreciative of that.

Dream: He hasn’t changed. His spirit just has a different composition of energy.

Cross: He has changed! He’s giving off positive aura now!

Dream: And that’s bad why…?

Cross: Because it’s like YOU, obviously! It’s that unnatural thing that’s way too easy to recognize!

Nightmare: Yes, but I’m NOT him.

(Nightmare pulls Cross up close.)

Nightmare: When the heck am I ever letting my aura work freely, anyway?

Cross: Yeah, but…

Dream: What are you whispering about?

Nightmare: None of your business.

Nightmare: Cross, I’m just saying that this might be significantly helpful, just in a very different way.

Nightmare: I’m still the same, so stop being a bitter prick about it.

Cross: (displeased groaning)

(Nightmare turns back to Dream.)

Nightmare: So, what are you gonna do now? Charge me for required services?

Dream: Are you joking?

Nightmare: Depends on the answer.

Dream: No, of course I’m not charging you. I’m not evil.

(Cross frowns deeply.)

Cross: If you’re not evil, then apologize for the s#%t you put us through on a regular basis.

Cross: We didn’t even do anything wrong and your freak organization was hunting us down nonstop.

Dream: …

(He steadily exhales.)

Dream: … That time is past now.

Dream: You… have my deepest apologies.

(Cross lets out a huff of air.)

Dream: This doesn’t mean my personal opinion of you has changed though.

Cross: Pff, yeah. Likewise.

Everyone: …

Error: ……… can we go home now?

Error: I like… left a game on…

Dream: Oh. That reminds me.

Dream: Do you plan to tell me where you live now?

Dream: It’s not like you have any reason to conceal your location anymore.

Nightmare: This soon?

Nightmare: Hate to break it to you, but after this long of being hunted by you, I don’t think I’m mentally prepared to open up at all.

Nightmare: Besides. I think you should figure it out yourself.

Dream: I already figured it out like three times and you kept changing your address. I’ve had just about enough of ‘figuring it out’.

Nightmare: Exactly. It should be a cinch the fourth time.

(Cross snickers at the displeased expression on Dream’s face.)

Nightmare: And let’s not forget something important, angel boy.

Nightmare: Just because you’re not after me anymore doesn’t mean that I’m not opposed to your work and organization. I still disagree with the majority of your perspectives, and no amount of angsty family moments could change that.

Dream: … I understand.

Dream: I guess not everything can go my way.

(He lets out a sigh, stands up, then takes a deep breath.)

Dream: INK.

Dream: I know you’re standing bitterly over there.

(Off in a distance, Ink is leaning on the wall next to the door.)

Ink: Tch. Yeah, so what?

Dream: Unless you want to be severely reprimanded, I order you to accompany us as we go to a room where these three are able to leave, and when we arrive there, I fully expect you to be prepared to apologize for your behavior.

Ink: What?! I didn’t even do anything!

Dream: You were being a whiny little b#tch during that job I gave you.

(The meme squad blinks, all thinking the exact same thing.)

(“Holy frick, Dream swore.”)

(Cross grins.)

Cross: Man you’re in trouble…

Dream: You should be relieved that I’m giving you a few minutes of preparation to come to terms with your mistakes.

Dream: We’re heading out.

(Dream walks past Ink, soon followed by Nightmare, Cross and Error. Ink lets out a disgruntled growl as Error smirks at him.)

Ink: F@#k off, Glasses.

(Dream turns his head, shooting Ink a glare. Ink looks away, still petulant, but afraid to make Dream any angrier.)

(They shortly arrive in a room with some kind of panel in the wall. Dream walks over to it and turns it on. It asks for a password, which he promptly inputs with one hand on a nearby keypad. The trio watches as the words ‘inner security temporarily lifted’ appear on the screen.)

Dream: There. You’ll briefly be able to use your AU traveling powers in this room.

Nightmare: Damn, I always wondered what that stupid thing was for.

Dream: Now, Ink. Is there something you want to say? 

Ink: Not particularly.

Dream: Don’t sass me.

Nightmare: (mocking tone) Yeah, Ink. Say you’re sorry.

Dream: Nightmare, don’t make this worse.

Nightmare: I make everything worse.

Cross: (nodding) It’s true.

Ink: Okay, fine. Whatever. I’m sorry for being a whiny little b#tch earlier. You guys were having a hard time.

Error: He’s not actually sorry.

Nightmare: No, he’s not.

Ink: Leave me alone!

(Ink runs out of the room, and Dream rolls his eyes.)

(Nightmare and Cross look over at Error, who understands and opens a portal.)

Dream: … I suppose I’ll be seeing you three around.

Nightmare: I suppose you will.

(Nightmare turns to his companions.)

Nightmare: Hey, guys. Wait for me a minute.

(Cross and Error look at each other and shrug, then go through the portal.)

Dream: … what is it–

(Nightmare runs forward and hugs Dream.)

Nightmare: … this is weird.

Nightmare: Really, really weird. Let’s just say this wasn’t the outcome I was expecting.

Nightmare: And I’m feeling a lot of weird things.

Nightmare: But, I…

(Dream hugs him back.)

Nightmare: Uh…

Nightmare: Never mind… I got nothing.

(Dream smiles.)

Dream: An ‘I love you’?

 Nightmare: Hah. Hell no, not yet.

(Nightmare lets go.)

Nightmare: I, uh… I need to go now.

(He turns around and runs through the portal. It closes behind him.)

(Dream had barely caught a glimpse of the tears beginning to run down Nightmare’s face as he had turned.)

(He had never seen Nightmare cry before.)

Dream: …

(Dream closes his eyes, wondering what exactly… would come from all this. It would certainly be interesting to find out.)

(He turns around, entering the hallway again.)

#reminder that this is a hypothetical outcome #this setting's 'story' can be taken in many different ways #dreamswap #ds dream #ds nightmare #ds error #ds cross #ds ink #dreamswap stories

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