#Danny surprised at the knife in his shoulder: YOU STABBED ME!?

[it-was-too-cold-always]

We're Not in CW Anymore - 6

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

The reader gets blasted into another universe - one where Sam and Dean Winchester are real people, real hunters, and really fucked up. To her surprise (or horror), Dean has been getting glimpses of her life in his dreams and is completely enamored with her. It's nothing like the cable-friendly CW show that she knows and loves.

Reader x Dean Winchester

Warnings: language, violence

Chapter 6: The Family Business

“Dean, that’s not a fucking ghost!” you yelled. “It’s Family Remains!” you said as if that would explain the situation.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean yelled back, shooting you a look of confusion. Before you could reply, the psycho girl pulled a knife out from her pocket and bolted towards Sam.

“Everyone to the shed!” you commanded, ushering the family out the front door. Surely the boys could handle a little girl with a knife, you told yourself. You were saving people, they were hunting things. The family business, right?

You practically shoved the family into the shed and took a headcount – the son was missing.

“Danny? Where’s Danny? Oh my god, where’s my son?” the mom sobbed, bolting to the door. You quickly grabbed her and put your hands on her shoulders, preventing her from leaving.

“Listen to me, your son is okay,” you said, knowing exactly where he was – the demon kids have him tied up underneath the house. You definitely remember that part. “You’re going to have to trust me. They won’t hurt him. I promise,” you said firmly. You sat her down on a bench and rubbed her back. “I know it’s hard, but we’re safer together. Once Sam and Dean get back, we’re going to get your son.” You got up from the bench and walked towards the door. “I’m going to stand guard. Stay put,” you instructed. The authority in your voice surprised you. Look at you, being brave. Maybe you could do this hunting stuff after all.

You waited outside for what felt like forever, every rustle from the bushes causing you to jump out of your skin. Finally you saw Sam and Dean run out the front door towards you. Thank god. Dean put his hand protectively on the small of your back and guided you into the shed. He stood close to you, looking over his shoulder to see if the girl followed them outside.

“Okay Y/N, time to explain,” Sam said, shutting the shed door behind him.

“Okay so this is Family Remains – my favorite episode, remember? I told you about it at the diner. What killed the old man wasn’t a ghost, it was his granddaughter, who literally lives in the walls of the house. Well, granddaughter/daughter, he was a nasty man. Anyways, it’s not a ghost, there’s a boy and girl who live in the walls and underneath the house. They’re crazy, completely removed from the world, and out for blood. They have the son tied up under the house. There’s a spot in the kitchen that we can open up and get right to him,” you explained. “How’d it go with the girl?” you asked, noticing the blood spatter on their clothes.

“She won’t be a problem anymore,” Dean said. It sent a shiver down your spine – the man you were warming up to just stabbed a little girl to death. A crazy ass killer little girl, but still. Her blood was all over his flannel.

“Okay well the brother is still a threat. And he’s probably pissed we just killed his sister,” Sam said. “Y/N, what’s the plan? What happens next?”

“Well first we have to open up that spot in the kitchen wall. Dean, you go down there while Sam and the dad make a rope out of sheets. All your guns are down with the son, so you’ll be able to neutralize the brother,” you explain. “He’s going to come for you, so you have to watch out. But he’s never seen the light of day, so shine a flashlight in his face. It should stun him long enough for you to grab a gun.”

Dean nods, turning to Sam. “Well, Sammy, sounds like we’ve got a plan.”

As you walked back to the house, your stomach did flips. You hoped to god you were right. In the actual episode, the mom kills the girl. Does this change things, now that Dean had already killed her? Is this reality different? Maybe the son wasn’t safe like you promised. The thought made you want to vomit.

Sam made quick work of opening up the drywall in the kitchen. Immediately the smell of rotting flesh wafted into the room. It made you want to gag. You covered your mouth and nose with your hand to get some relief from that rancid smell. Sam and Dean seemed unphased.

“Jesus christ, that’s disgusting! Do you smell that?” the dad exclaimed.

“Every goddamn day,” Sam said flatly, setting down the hammer.

You turned your gaze to Dean, fear welling up inside you. He was about to go right into the danger pit, and you weren’t entirely sure he’d make it out alive. His eyes met yours and it felt like he could read your mind.

“Am I about to die? Because you’re looking at me like I’m about to die,” Dean said, a little amusement in his voice. He clearly did not share the same concern you did.

“No, I’m just…this is going a little different than the episode. I’m worried other things will be different too,” you said solemnly. “Please, be careful.”

“Sweetheart, I’m always careful,” he said, leaning in to peck your cheek. “Just another day at the office.” He shot you a wink before lowering himself into the hole in the wall. “Please nobody grab my leg, please nobody grab my leg,” you could hear him say. Even in the face of danger, he was making you smile.

The silence that followed was painful. Unlike in the show, you couldn’t see what was happening. You busied yourself with the sheets, tying them together as securely as you could. The sound of two gunshots made you jump. You looked over at Sam, who gave you a look of reassurance. They do this every day, you told yourself. Dean’s a big boy, he can handle himself.

Danny’s shouts from the hole in the wall made you spring into action – thankfully you had just finished tying up the last sheet onto your makeshift rope. Sam and the dad quickly pulled the boy up. As the father and son embraced, Sam shouted down into the wall, “Dean! Get your ass over here!”

Several beats of silence passed before you heard Dean’s gruff voice shout back, “Sammy, knock off the attitude! I’m grabbing all our shit. Those kleptos threw everything down here.”

You let out a sigh of relief – he was okay. He was good enough to be snarky and irritated.

By the time the family was fully reunited in the shed (minus the dog), the sun was starting to rise. Dean turned to Sam, rubbing his hands together.

“Bodies or tires first?” he asked. You blinked – what did he just ask?

“Bodies. I hate changing tires,” Sam replied. “Y/N, grab a shovel. The sooner we finish, the sooner we can go the fuck to sleep.”

The boys shoveled into the hard soil with ease. You, however, were struggling. Dean, sensing your frustration, suggested you grab the lighter fluid from the car. You were more than happy to do so. You practically skipped to the driveway. When you came back, the 6-foot hole was almost done.

“Grab the girl, I’ll go get the boy,” Sam told you.

“Absolutely not. I’ll grab the girl. Y/N stays here,” Dean snapped.

“Someone’s gotta finish digging this hole, Dean,” Sam replied.

“It’s fine, I gotta pull my weight,” you jumped in, though you were not entirely sure. Would you be able to handle carrying a dead body? Not only mentally but physically? You were about to find out.

Making your way into the living room, you saw the lifeless body of the little girl slumped in the middle of the room. Taking a deep breath, you squatted down and picked her up bridal style. It was rough at first – she was heavier, dirtier, and smellier than she looked. Once you were able to stand up, it was easier.

As you approached the hole, you saw Sam leaning up against a tree, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. Just another day at the office. From the hole, Dean reached his arms out to take the body from you. The boy was already laying down there next to Dean’s feet. Dean put the girl down next to her brother, and with a ridiculous amount of agility, hopped out of the hole. Sam dumped salt and squirted the lighter fluid generously into the grave and set it alight. Dean sat on the ground, catching his breath from jumping out of the grave. Sam chuckled at a video he was watching on his phone. Their casual demeanor really took you off guard.

“Um, I got the tires,” the dad shouted from the side of the house. You could sense his hesitancy from here. You don’t blame him. Who would want to approach the two massive men who just lit two dead bodies on fire?

With a frustrated groan, Dean got up from the ground. “You can do the car and U-Haul. I’ll do the Impala. I don’t trust your grubby little hands with her,” Dean said to Sam.

It didn’t take long for them to put the new tires on the vehicles. The mother repeatedly thanked you, giving you countless hugs and crying about how you saved her baby. Despite how you felt about the two kids that you just helped salt and burn, you were very grateful that the family was okay. You supposed that, overall, this was a win.

The three of you couldn’t decide on a place to eat, so Dean took it upon himself to pull into the nearest burger joint. Sam shot him a look, and he shrugged. “I’m sure they have some sort of salad here. Quit whining.” Dean, of course, ordered a bacon cheeseburger, Sam got the only salad on the menu, and you opted for a BLT. The food arrived quickly, and the boys immediately dived in.

As you took a bite of your sandwich, the images of the dead little girl flashed in your mind. Her face was sunken, eyes wide open, frozen in horror. Her final moments were pure fear. Your heart clenched in your chest. This poor girl lived a miserable life. Did she even have a name? Your stomach did flips as you thought about it. Suddenly you weren’t very hungry.

Dean watched you as you set down your sandwich and pushed your plate away. He tried handing you his burger. “Want mine?” he asked, as if the issue was with the BLT and not the horrific night you endured. You shook your head.

“How do you guys do this? All the smells and the gore, and you’re chowing down only hours later. Doesn’t it disturb you?” you asked. They shrugged and continued eating.

“You get used to it after a while,” Sam replied. “Sure, there are still some situations that will make me lose my appetite, but it’s rare these days.”

“But…you killed two kids today. And the smell of their flesh burning…it was awful. You aren’t bothered by it at all?” You couldn’t believe they could treat this like any other day. They were so nonchalant about it.

“Decomposing flesh burning – now that’s a smell that’ll bother me,” Dean said with a mouthful of food.

You looked at him in disbelief. But then it dawned on you – to them, this IS any other day. The horrors you witnessed today were something they see every damn day. The smells, the screams, the tragedy. Your soulmate was a hardened killer.

Tags 💛

@5tud10-54r4h  @deans-spinster-witch @nelachu2423 @nancymcl @nelachu2423 @ghxul-x @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @verypostcrown @thej2report @lyarr24 @kazsrm67 @lino-se @pycobutterpie @beforethepen @pizzagirlxnsfwx @globetrotter28

[hannahmanderr]

No one ever said being caught in the crossfire of cosmic power was easy.

Danny's about to find that out first hand.

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Whatever Frostbite had wrapped him in felt amazing. Like slipping into one of those fancy ice baths he’d been craving ever since the first episode earlier that morning. Or like that one time when he’d been playing hide and seek with the yeti cubs and had the brilliant idea of burying himself in a snow mound (somehow he’d still been the first to be found).

The heat in his core began to cool, and he found himself relaxing more and more. For the first time in what felt like hours, his mind felt clearer, even with the unfamiliar memories still swimming around. 

He wasn’t completely better, not by a long shot. The hot grip still squeezed at his core, but the pain had thankfully dulled from sharp, stabbing knife wound to annoying heartburn. That, he could manage. 

See? You will be fine, little Prince.

Prince?

Prince.

Oh, Ancients. 

The title suits you.

No way. Not in a million years. Not in this realm or any.

Well, you can certainly use King, if you prefer. Both are fitting.

No!

His eyes flew open.

“I’m not a king!” He surprised himself by the sudden ferocity in his voice.

Judging from the many pairs of eyes staring at him, they were just as surprised.

Silence fell over the chamber, save for his labored panting. His cheeks flushed cold; he could feel all those eyes on him. Especially…

He glanced up to the center of the table. Master Kala’s stormy gray eyes scrutinized him. Under his gaze, his memories mingling with Danny’s own, Danny felt tinier than ever. Like his very existence offended the Ancient.

Nonsense. You have authority over him anyway.

The gasp escaped his mouth before he could stop it. He wrenched his hands out of Kalliope’s and gripped his head. Please, he begged silently, just leave me alone.

“Danny?” A soft hand rested on his shoulder, and he turned to see Sam and Tucker. Their faces were blurry, no thanks to the tears pooled in his eyes, but he didn’t need to see to be able to taste their love and concern. Without entirely realizing it, he leaned further into Sam’s touch. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. Slowly, he lowered his hands and grabbed the edges of the cloak, burrowing himself into its cool folds.

Wait.

He frowned and ran a thumb along the outer edge. “Where did this come from?”

“From I, Great One,” Frostbite said. “I’d meant to give it to you as a gift for the Solstice. I think it’ll serve you well now, though.”

Tucker whistled. “It’s wicked cool.” He picked up an edge, but quickly dropped it with a shudder. “Emphasis on ‘cool’.”

That earned a grin from Frostbite. “Precisely! The inner layer has been woven with yeti fur and imbued by a powerful spell of mine to absorb your cold energy and reflect it back into you. The outer layer is reinforced with a protection spell. It won’t prevent all harm, but it may offer you a little extra safety.”

Danny twisted to get a better look. The outside was a deep black, dotted with specks of white that he couldn’t decide were little stars or little flakes of snow. The edges were lined in a silky, pure white, and the hood had a thin lining of yeti fur. He opened up one side and nearly gasped when he saw the inner layer. The fabric was covered in a beautiful pattern of icy fractals, sparkling in the dim light of his own glow and the torch flames. The pattern itself glowed a soft blue - not enough to turn the entire inside blue, but enough to give the illusion of the layer being made of solid ice. 

“It’s really nice,” he whispered. As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt silly; this was far beyond ‘really nice’. The care that had been put into the cloak was clear, and it warmed his heart to think that Frostbite had gone to such an effort just for him. He looked up to meet the yeti’s eyes. “Thank you.”

Frostbite beamed. “Think nothing of it! It should be a much more practical solution to keeping your core temperature down than me having to hold you. And now, you can consider it a coronation gift,” he added with a wink.

The mention of a coronation sent Danny’s stomach into knots all over again. 

Indeed, it is lovely. Very befitting of a king.

“I’m not a king,” he said again. Whether it was in response to Frostbite or the voice in his head, he didn’t know. “I-I don’t know why anyone would think I’m supposed to be some king.”

“It’s not a random choice,” Pandora said. “It is Kilaris’ choice. It finds you to be a worthy champion, and thus it is trying to unite with you. It explains why your core is under the duress it is.”

“I still wonder if his suffering isn’t due to his… uniqueness,” Kala mused. “He is half-human, after all.”

Danny blushed again, and Sam’s eyes snapped back towards the Ancient. “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she retorted. It was almost enough to make Danny smile. Leave it to Sam Manson to stand up for him like that.

“I mean, he’s not entirely wrong.” Zunje looked up from her tablet long enough to meet Danny’s eyes. “Your core makeup is gonna be different just by your nature. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s fascinating stuff! But… yeah, there’s not exactly a lot of history on how being half-human can affect a core. You’re one-of-a-kind!”

“But he’s not the only half-ghost,” Tucker said. “Vlad’s one too. He was having trouble with whatever those quakes were too. Just, not as bad as Danny.”

Kala hummed. “My point stands, then. All this could simply be a matter of the child’s youth and unique core.”

“I disagree.” Frostbite stood to his full height. “I sensed a taint to the Great One’s core. Almost as though something had attached itself to it. That would not be a consequence of his core makeup, however unique it is.”

Danny bit his lip as his heart picked up speed. The idea of something attaching itself to his core…

But how else could he explain the hot hold around it?

He taints you. He still holds what he has no right to.

Like that explained anything. If he was going to be stuck with this voice in his head, couldn’t it at least be useful?

It explains everything, little Prince.

A thought began to form in the back of his mind. He couldn’t put words to it, not yet, but it was enough to worsen the nagging feeling he already had in his gut.

“Only a force as strong as Kilaris could directly affect someone’s core without physical contact,” Pandora was saying. “If it is unable to truly connect with his core, it could turn volatile. It would explain the increase in his core temperature.”

“Then why does it not simply make the connection?” Storm clouds began to gather around Kala again. “This is the Heart! This is not child’s play! It is more than capable of forming the bond itself!”

“Unless if something still holds it,” Pele muttered. Neither Kala nor Pandora appeared to have heard her.

Danny did.

The nagging feeling grew stronger.

Think. You know the answer.

He wasn’t so sure about that.

Zunje also seemed to have heard Pele. She frowned and opened her mouth. “Wait, that’s -”

“Do not act like it is a matter of flipping a switch!” Pandora said, her voice rising in volume. The flames of her plume began to rise. “This is a bond unmatched by any other! It does not form overnight!”

“I never made such a claim!”

Danny looked back and forth between the two arguing Ancients. His heart pounded as he racked his memory, trying to remember what he’d heard.

Unless if something still holds it, Pele had said.

He was so close. He knew it.

Think back, little Prince. Think back.

Danny wasn’t too keen on trusting mysterious voices in his head. One experience with Freakshow’s crystal ball had been more than enough to turn him fearful of the idea in general. 

Still though, something about this voice… It didn’t have the same feeling of pressing up against his head like a hot dagger, like Freakshow’s mind control had. It didn’t seem to want to control him, period. The thoughts flowed as naturally as his own, almost as if they were his own.

And he could trust himself, right?

Trust yourself.

So he did. He thought back, scrolling through memories as fast as he could, even the ones that weren’t truly his.

( “- was that - that earthquake, or whatever you call it!” The human girl sprang to her feet and - )

( - couldn’t be right. The shade never changed. It never changed. It was impossible! It was - )

( - he brought a shaky hand up to touch the Crown, now completely absent of its fire - )

( - why did it seem so right? Like… like finding a part of himself he’d never known he was missing - )

( - was almost frightening how welcoming the power felt, and how much he found himself yearning to welcome it back. If only - )

( - The Heart was in desperate need - )

( “- something’s not right… It shouldn’t have attacked -”)

( “- leave him with the Crown. It will remain locked in the Sarcophagus -”)

( “- the presence of the Heart in its chosen. Kilaris does not… leave the King all at once -”)

Danny’s eyes snapped open.

“It’s stuck.”

Somehow, those two words were loud enough to silence the arguing Ancients. They turned and looked at him with wide eyes. It took every last bit of will for him to avoid shying away under their gaze.

“What’s stuck?” Of all the people to speak, he hadn’t expected it to be Kalliope. Still though, he was grateful it had been her and not someone as intimidating as Kala.

He swallowed. “The… the Heart. It’s stuck. It can’t… break free.”

The way Zunje stared at him with a hungry look in her eye made him want to wince. “How do you know that?” she asked eagerly. Her excitement was palpable across the room.

Kala, on the other hand, was nowhere near as eager. “Yes,” he said slowly, his eyes narrowing. Danny got the impression he was being examined inside and out under his gaze. “How would you know that?”

Oh. That was a good question, wasn’t it?

Why wouldn’t you know that? 

“It’s…” His tongue felt thick in his mouth. Ancients, he hated attention. And now with it all on him and his seemingly impossible knowledge…

Relax, little Prince. Simply tell them the truth.

Right. That easy.

Right?

He fidgeted with the edge of the cloak. “You… you guys did something to it, right? To keep Pariah from having total control over it?”

He’d expected one of the Ancients to jump in and take over after that, but they simply continued to stare at him, bewildered and curious.

Go on…

“You… you put the Heart into something.” As he spoke, the thoughts and memories became stronger, more confident. “Something you could take away from him, if you needed to. Like… a failsafe or something. 

“And - and now, it’s… it hasn’t been able to get out of that. Whatever happened to keep it in… it’s working too well, isn’t it? And so it’s… stuck. So even if it wanted to bond with me or - or something, and I’m definitely not saying it does, it can’t. Because it’s trapped.”

The room was silent. Only the faint crackling of the torch flames could be heard. Danny’s heart pounded in his ears.

His heart.

Your Heart.

He wanted to throw up all over again.

“He’s right,” Pandora said, so quietly, almost like she was scared to break the silence. “We bound the Heart to a physical vessel. To two physical vessels.”

“We swore never to speak of this!” Kala hissed. Thunder rumbled in his cloudy cloak. “There is a reason we swore ourselves to secrecy!”

“Wait, so you guys took your literal lifeblood or whatever, locked it away, and then decided to keep it a secret?” Tucker asked. Frustration tinged his voice.

“And here I hoped that ghost government would be a little less corrupt than human government,” Sam muttered.

“We had no choice!” Kala slammed one of his hands into the table. “Do you realize the chaos we would have put the Realms in? And no -” he said sharply, interrupting Babel as they opened their mouth, “ - not a productive chaos. Do you know how many beings would go to any length to obtain the power of Kilaris?”

“Then why even do it in the first place?”

“Because of Pariah Dark,” Danny answered Sam. “They - you guys were really worried about him. You wanted to be able to take the power away if he went too crazy with it.”

“We had no choice.” Frostbite’s words echoed Kala’s, but his held gravity. “The Timekeeper warned us.”

“Never mention that traitor again!” Kala roared. “He brings nothing but disorder and lawlessness!”

“The Timek- you mean Clockwork?” Danny asked incredulously.

Kala’s fury was on him in an instant. “Do not speak his name!”

“Enough of this!” Pandora stood, the flames in her plume reaching higher and higher. “He is a child and he is your king! You will treat him with the respect he deserves!”

Pele leaned forward and pulled out her iPhone again. “This ought to be entertaining.”

“That child is no king of mine until the Heart speaks it so!” Kala spat back. “I do not know how he has forbidden knowledge, but it means nothing! He is unfit, inexperienced, and he has offered no proof that the Heart has even chosen him!”

I don’t even want to be king! Danny wanted to shout, but something held him back. 

The one who rejects power is often the one best fit to wield it.

“He has aided the Realms time and again!” Frostbite said. His arm of ice glinted dangerously in the light. “He has laid down his life for them and everyone in them! Is there not anyone more worthy?”

“And who are you to speak for Kilaris? You would let your favoritism for the boy blind you to justice?”

He is right.

Danny blinked. What?

He does not speak on behalf of the Heart. That privilege is only bestowed to the one who hears. The one who is one with the Infinite Realms. 

He almost wrote the answer off as yet another nonsensical thought. Almost.

How did you hear those memories, little Prince?

His breath caught in his throat. 

“It told me!” he shouted.

He nearly expected the chamber to fall silent again, like it had minutes ago. Unfortunately for him, the Ancients’ bickering had grown too loud. Angry auras flared, filling the room with tumult. Sam and Tucker gripped him tightly. Their fear and determination tickled Danny’s nose. Kalliope simply watched the argument unfold, horrified.

He didn’t know what to do. These were the Ancients. The only ghosts powerful enough to put Pariah away. To lock the lifeblood itself away. To them, he was just a kid. Just some dumb human kid who’d somehow managed to stumble his way into their world. Some child who’d overreacted to a little change in energy. 

Kala’s right, he thought, dismayed. I shouldn’t even be here.

Why would you believe in such a lie?

Did he have much other choice? He himself still barely believed it was truly the Heart speaking to him. And if he didn’t want to be king, why even bother trying to convince them?

This is more than a crown. This is more than a bid for power.

Do what you have to do.

“I can’t,” he whispered.

Even with the Realms at stake?

He stopped. That… that had been the reason they’d come in the first place, hadn’t it? To figure out what was going on with the shudders? To try and help fix them?

Frustration bubbled in his chest. The voice was right. The Realms were in danger, and its most powerful beings were squabbling like kindergartners. Over one person, at that. Why waste time focusing on this when there were bigger problems?

Couldn’t they see the bigger picture?

They cannot. But you can tell them.

Easier said than done. Clearly, none of them really seemed to be in a listening mood.

Then make them listen.

Do what you have to do.

Make them listen.

He knew what to do. 

With a newfound strength, he pushed himself off the ground and lifted into the air. He ignored his friends’ questioning looks and focused inward.

He’d done it just a couple hours earlier after all.

He inhaled. The scent of anger was sharp on the air, so much so that he could taste its spice. Coming from ghosts as powerful as the Ancients, the spice nearly made his eyes water, but he steeled himself against it. 

He inhaled again. Breathed in their anger. Breathed in their heat. Let it fill his lungs. Let it fill his core.

But not his heart.

It was easier to find the root of his cool energy wearing Frostbite’s cloak. Whatever magic he’d cast on it worked wonders for amplifying the elemental side to his core. He latched onto it and drew on it. Let it overtake him. His lungs, his body, his heart. Drew on it more and more until it overtook the spice of anger.

Focused his heart. Focused his core.

And he exhaled.

Energy flooded out. Just like he’d done with Sam earlier, he allowed it to release into the air. He inhaled and exhaled again. With each inhale, he took in the hot anger. With each exhale, he redirected it and let it out, cooler and calmer than before. 

Yes. Just like that.

It honestly surprised him how good it felt. Redirecting emotional energy always felt so manipulative, but this…

Not manipulation, little Prince. Restoration.

Restoration. Yeah, that sounded nice.

He didn’t know how long he floated there, allowing himself to filter the anger out of the air. He didn’t mind. It just felt so right.

See? You are meant for this.

He still wasn’t sure about that. But if he could do something productive…

“Danny?”

Tucker’s voice cut through his daze. His eyes fluttered open.

Everyone stared at him again. Of course.

“Sorry,” he muttered, wringing his hands. He knew that Sam and Tucker both knew about his emotion eating, and they always insisted it was natural for him, but he still hated acknowledging it around them. And then to try and pull off such a risk in front of the Ancients…

To his shock, though, Tucker laughed. “Don’t be, man, look at you!”

“What?” He looked down at himself and found himself taken aback by how brightly he glowed. It radiated off his body; the fractal pattern in his cloak caught the light and threw it back out, casting shards of gentle blue glow around the room like a crystal in the sunlight. The cloak itself had billowed around him, allowing the light to be thrown even further.

He felt like his own little star.

Before he could react further though, the hot grip around his core returned full force and twisted, sending a wave of heat and dizziness over him. The glow died away and he swooned, his vision going dark for a dangerous second.

Was it just his imagination, or did he hear the echoes of a furious roar?

“Whoa, whoa!” Sam reached up and directed his fall into her arms. “You okay?”

“‘M fine,” he mumbled. Why did he feel so drained all of a sudden? “Just a lil’ tired.”

“That was so cool!” Tucker said. “Whatever that was anyway. How’d you do it?”

Danny shrugged limply. “I dunno, I just… did it.”

And you did excellent, little Prince.

As he felt Sam push aside the cloak to dig in one of his belt holders - hopefully for one of his emergency supplement pills - he became acutely aware of the Ancients’ eyes on him again. 

“What is it with you guys and staring?” he grumbled. Screw the consequences for talking back, he was tired.

“Incredible,” Zunje breathed. “Stars above, that was a-maz-ing! In all my years I’ve never seen anyone with that kind of mastery over emotion energy! And to that kind of degree? Against a bunch of powerful cores? Eeeee, I knew I was right about you!”

“It’s nothing special.” Danny accepted the pill Sam held out to him and popped it in his mouth. “Jus’ a tri’,” he said around it.

“Nah, nah, I know tricks, kid.” Babel jumped off Zunje’s shoulder. “That was more than some trick. There was some juice behind that!” They eyed Danny critically. “You sure you don’t have socks with green polka dots?”

“Enough with the socks,” Kala growled. His attention turned to Danny, and his heart skipped a beat. “This still proves nothing! My judgment still stands! Until the Heart itself speaks -”

Whatever else Kala said was drowned out by the rush of static in Danny’s ears. “Are you for real right now?” he snapped. Yeah, he really didn’t care about the consequences now.

If looks could kill, Kala’s would have him fully dead. “Listen here, Phantom, I -”

“No, I’m done listening!” Oh yeah, he was so dead for interrupting again, but he was not about to let things devolve into yet another argument. He set his jaw and locked his gaze onto Kala’s. “This time, I need you to listen to me. The Realms are in danger, and you guys are just standing here arguing! Don’t you have a job to do? Like seriously, who cares if I’m supposed to be king or not?” I do, he added silently, but he pressed on. “Can’t it wait until after we fix the Heart or whatever?”

Hmm. Elocution could use some improvement, but otherwise well said.

Elo-what now?

“But don’t we need to figure out who Kilaris has chosen to tame it?” Pandora asked, and with a jolt of realization, Danny realized the question had been directed towards him.

Just say your piece and be done, Fenton. “But that’s what I was trying to tell you. You guys can sit here all day arguing over who’s supposed to be the king, but it’s not gonna change the fact that the Heart is stuck. It has to be freed before it can actually choose anyone!”

Kala looked about ready to erupt, but thankfully Zunje jumped in first. “He may be on to something!” she said, snatching her tablet back from Babel, who’d opened up a Talking Tom app. “It’s the piece we all forgot about! The Heart’s been separated this whole time! Which might be why…” She tapped a couple of buttons before leaning back in her seat and blowing a strand of silvery hair out of her face. “Yeesh, no wonder things are so whacked out!”

“You put the Heart into something you could take away from Pariah, if worst came to worst,” Danny said, cutting back in, mostly in an attempt to stave off Kala’s explosion. “I don’t know how, but you did. And it never got let out.”

“How do you know that?” Pandora asked. Rather than accusation, her tone was laced with curiosity. Danny suddenly got the impression of Mr. Lancer sitting there, trying to probe an answer out of him during literary analysis.

He averted his gaze. “I… I mean I can’t - I don’t know for sure, but I think… I think the Heart might have… shown me?”

“Shown you?”

“Yeah.” Feeling self-conscious, he pulled the cloak tighter around himself. “It… I saw all these things. Like memories, but they weren’t mine. I really don’t know how, but… I think it’s trying to show me for a reason.”

“What’s gotcha thinkin’ it’s Kilaris?” Babel asked. Despite having had the tablet taken away, their voice sounded suspiciously like Talking Tom’s.

Danny hesitated, then shrugged. “It’s just… a gut feeling, I guess. Like it’s trying to tell me without actually telling me.”

Why not tell them the truth?

Frankly, he didn’t know if he could handle the truth himself right now. To say it out loud, to make it all the more real…

Why shy away from who you are meant to be?

Meant to be.

Yeah, that would be exactly why.

And what if I don’t want to be that? Challenging the voice felt vaguely pointless, especially if he was right about it being the Heart, but banter had always helped him feel a little less out of control.

Destiny often finds you, whether you want it to or not.

Memories of a button, green lightning coursing through his veins, and the impossibly infinite sensation of being ripped apart and put back together again and a dead dimension using his body to blossom to life ripped through his head.

If this voice was going to constantly assault him with random memories, couldn’t it at least give a little warning?

Of course, little Prince. You need only ask.

Danny blinked. Needless to say, the unexpected concession took him aback.

Tucker, ever so astute, narrowed his eyes at Danny. Of course he did. They’d known each other since pre-K, why wouldn’t he key into Danny’s behavior so easily? “Did it just show you something else?”

“Um…” He loved his friend to death and beyond, but he was so gonna make him pay for calling him out like that. “It’s… I’m not…”

Remember your priority.

Right. 

He shook his head and set his jaw, drawing his shoulders back and standing tall. It was a stance he’d perfected playing hero for Amity Park, and despite his doubts, slipping into it felt like stepping into his favorite starry pajamas. 

The other thing he’d perfected as Phantom was his ability to focus. Make his goal his number one priority. Take in every detail of the battlefield, of his opponent, of the resources available, of the civilians in the crossfire. Leave behind all worries of anything that had happened before or would happen after. Center himself on the duty at hand.

He did that now.

“Look, I know it’s probably important to figure out,” he said. Though his voice carried confidence and determination, his heart still trembled. “I mean believe me, I’d love to know what’s going on with me. Or what all this king stuff is about, because frankly, I’m with Kala.” He jabbed a thumb in the Ancient’s direction. Hopefully the proverbial olive branch was obvious enough. “I’m not exactly sold on me being the best choice for king. But that’s not the most important thing right now.

“Here’s what it comes down to: the Realms are in danger. We all know that, right? And you guys have already figured out that it’s got to do with the Heart, right? So we gotta focus on that. There won’t be a need for a king if the Heart ends up tearing the worlds apart just to put itself back together.”

He took a deep, shaky breath. “And once it’s all said and done, then we can come back here and figure out this whole king mess, alright? I… I promise I won’t fight against it or whatever. I’m not just gonna leave the Realms hanging, you know? But…” He trailed off. How did he even want to end that sentence?

Did he even want the Infinite Realms dependent on him for survival yet again?

“I just think our energy is better spent trying to stop these energy waves or whatever. Since they’re… not normal. I think.” Top ten lamest finishes to a speech in front of a room full of ancient, god-like ghosts? Most definitely.

But he’d said his piece. Laid out his cards.

Well done.

It might have been his imagination, but he swore Kala’s eyes grew a little less stormy, and the clouds shrouding him receded just a bit. “It is no simple claim, to say that Kilaris speaks to you. The consequences of lying would exceed any you could fathom. And if you are wrong about these… visions…”

Danny shrugged. “What do you have to lose? It’s either trust me for like, five minutes or run the risk of the world falling apart.”

All six Ancients regarded him for a long moment, and it took every bit of strength he could muster not to cower under the sheer intensity of their focused gaze. Even though he knew at least Frostbite and Pandora would side with him, he couldn’t shake the feeling of being scrutinized, picked apart, analyzed, and put back together again.

Maybe that was one of their weird, Ancient-y powers. Intimidation tactics.

“I agree.” Surprisingly, the first one to speak was not Frostbite or Pandora. It wasn’t Zunje either, one of the other ones he figured he’d have an easier time convincing.

Pele had spoken.

She’d set her iPhone face-down on the table and was now watching him carefully, hands clasped in front of her. “A wise warrior knows when to fall back to duty when presented with an opportunity for power.” To add to Danny’s surprise, for the first time since he’d met her (which, to be fair, had only been a bit ago), she cracked the smallest of smiles. “You have chosen your battle well, Phantom.”

He couldn’t help the blush that creeped up his face. “Thanks,” he said shyly. Sure, it felt lame, but what else could he say?

“Our authority may be granted by Kilaris, and for that, we owe it our eternal servitude,” Pandora said. “Should it not also be our prerogative to serve the Realms that it so diligently gives life to?”

“I also agree!” Frostbite stood with a wide smile. “The Great One is right. We may not have a chance to select a new king if the Heart is in peril.”

“Well, I did have a croquet game with the queen of Sheba planned,” Babel said, looking at a planner consisting of hundreds and hundreds of individual sticky notes, “but, eh, what the heck! Queenie’s been dead long enough, she can wait a little longer. I’m in!”

Zunje looked as though she might keel over as she stared in horror at Babel’s version of organization, but she managed to shake herself out of her stupor. “First thing we’re doing after all this is teaching you the wonders of proper planning,” she muttered. “Anyway! You already know I’m down. I’d be totally fine either way, really! I’m practically swimming in new data and it’s fantastic! Just thinking about how long it’ll take to sort through and organize, it’s gonna be so much fun! And the graphs? Oh, don’t even get me started on those, I -”

“Enough, Zunje,” Kala rumbled, but much of the threat behind his voice had dissolved. He had not taken his eyes off of Danny the entire time, and it was becoming harder and harder to remain resolute under his stare. Had agreeing with him been the right play?

Ancients, he hated waiting. 

Was it weird to say ‘Ancients’ like that when they were right in front of you?

“While I hesitate to trust the source of these visions,” Kala began, “I am willing to set aside the matter of the Heart’s champion. Temporarily.” His eyes narrowed at Danny, and Danny found it surprisingly unreadable. “The matter of the safety of the Realms is the higher priority. We will address it first.”

“Oh, good! Because I was thinking…” Zunje trailed off as she searched for something on her tablet.

“Is no one gonna ask us what we think?” Sam muttered.

Danny couldn’t help the grin he cracked. “Like you guys would fight me on this.”

“Hey, just because you might be some big bad ghost king doesn’t mean you get to tell us what to do.” Tucker punctuated his comment with a playful nudge at Danny’s ribs. 

“You have my support too, mikrí.” Kalliope floated forward with a reverent head bow. “I am not much of a fighter, but I will offer my services here wherever I can.”

He wasn’t quite sure what to think of Tucker’s comment, or how Kalliope’s offer felt like a pledge of service to a leader, but for the sake of the moment, he bottled those up for later. Future Danny could deal with those.

“Right, here!” Zunje held up her tablet triumphantly. Danny couldn’t decipher anything from what he saw. “These were the readings I was talking about earlier, yeah? Like it looks like what a typical energy output from the Heart would look like, but it’s just so slightly skewed. And it hit me when Phantom said it, like duh, of course separating the Heart would have some serious impacts on it!”

Yeah, no duh, Danny thought dryly to himself. Getting yourself forcibly ripped apart isn’t fun. Been there, done that.

Which is why you can understand better than they can.

Yeah, yeah. Something something half-ghost half-human. Same story, different day.

Good. Then you’re in agreement.

Well…

“But then why didn’t it give you problems when you first put it into the Crown and Ring?” The words popped out of his mouth before he even fully registered them. Crown and Ring?

( - the weight of a pulsating ring lifting from his finger - )

( - and the angry flames of a crown trying to reject him - )

For what felt like the millionth time that day, all eyes in the room fell on him. He wanted to punch something. Or scream. What would it take to get them to stop staring?

“Wait, so you didn’t just lock it away, you shoved it into a couple of tiny pieces of jewelry?” Tucker said slowly. “Jeez, no wonder it’s mad.”

“How do you -” Kala began to ask Danny, but he stopped himself with his mouth hanging open. After a minute, he shook his head. “Never mind. Yes, we forged the Crown of Fire and the Ring of Rage for containment of Kilaris. We do not need to rehash the details.”

Pandora gave a little hmph. Danny’s tongue felt itchy; he could tell she wanted to protest that, but she held her tongue. Keeping her eyes on Kala, she instead said, “It was not an easy task. But we managed it. It seemed to operate well with the setup… until…”

“Until we first tried to separate the Crown and the Ring,” Zunje finished quietly. There was a deep sorrow behind her eyes, one that Danny could taste on the air. “It… wasn’t too keen on that. It’s like it knew that’s what we were trying to do.”

( - and power upon power tumbled through the Realms and ripped into the land and ripped into the sky and bled black inky tears and cried with the anguished wail - )

“It didn’t just fight back.” Danny’s voice was little more than a whisper himself as the haunting memory flashed before him. “It was ready to tear things apart. Like, for good.”

Pandora nodded soberly. “It’s the reason we elected to keep the Crown and the Ring close to each other when we secured Pariah away. One in the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep with him, one left just outside of it. We wouldn’t run the risk of attempting to separate it from its host or itself. It was better that way.”

“It was our only choice,” Kala said. His shoulders hunched and his brow creased, his eyes staring blankly at the table in front of him. An oddly vulnerable position for someone who presented himself so boldly.

He’s just as worried about all this, Danny realized with a start. He doesn’t want to mess up again.

“Wait, wait.” Sam waved her hands. “Like I get it, it makes sense, but if it was fine for all those years - and I’m assuming it was since we’re all still standing here - then why is it suddenly not fine now? Pariah had both the Crown and the Ring when Danny locked him back up.”

If the dropping in Danny’s stomach before had been like a stone, the way it dropped now was nothing short of a boulder.

“Oh my God,” he whispered. It’s my fault. All this is my fault.

Not so, little Prince. You did not know.

He wrapped his arms tightly around his torso. His mind filled with static. Nausea washed over him.

All that effort to keep everyone safe… everything he’d done to stop the tyrant king… coming face to face with death for the second time in his short life…

It had been for nothing.

In saving the world, he had doomed it.

One of his friends laid their hand on his shoulder, clearly sensing his distress, but he shrugged it off. His core and heart were beginning to race again and -

( - Each labored breath pushed his overworked lungs closer and closer to the brink of giving out - )

- he couldn’t stop his mind from racing. His fears and doubts began telling him everything he’d done wrong. Taunting him. Laughing at his failures. Singing songs of his unworthiness.

And they want someone like you to be a king? they said. They expect you to actually help? All you do is get people in trouble.

He wanted to sob, even as another voice cut through the cacophony in his head.

You mustn’t listen to them, little Prince. You cannot let fear be your enemy.

Was it his enemy? Because right now, it felt a lot more like his master.

His fingers felt numb. Dizziness began to overwhelm him. 

It was his fault. His fault his fault his fault.

As if to nail the head on the coffin, the hot grip around his core squeezed harder and twisted. He cried out in pain as he fell to his knees.

And now you’re going to fail again, his fears whispered to him. Their collective voice was beginning to take a shape. He didn’t know how he knew. You will fail. That is who you are meant to be. A failure.

No. No. He didn’t have to be. He could still fix this. He could… 

He could…

He couldn’t…

Don’t listen to him. He wants you to doubt yourself. You will be playing right into his hands.

He?

The fears cackled. Their voice became clearer and clearer and somewhere in the back of Danny’s mind, he felt like he could recognize it. There’s no sense in fighting back. It will only result in more hurt. Give in to me. Give in to me and perhaps I will spare you long enough to see the world of your creation.

This time, he really did sob.

He knew that voice. 

“Please…” he whispered, though he couldn’t tell if the word actually left his mouth or not. The hot grip still held relentlessly tight on his core. Instinctively, his core began to pour out more cold energy, and somewhere, Danny could feel it being reflected back into him, thanks to Frostbite’s cloak.

But it wasn’t enough. 

You will not win this, ‘little Prince.’ Where the voice that had originally began calling him that said it with all the tenderness and care, this new voice held nothing but mockery and a desire to inflict pain. 

He remembered what he’d been trying to say during the onslaught of memories. How could he have forgotten? How could he have let himself get so selfishly distracted?

He needed to warn them.

It’s too late, the voice of the fallen king said in his head, cackling again. You will never be able to keep me from what is rightfully mine. You are nothing.

No. No, he…

Do not listen! The right is yours and yours alone. You mustn’t let him take it.

Like he could keep that from happening. He’d come within inches of death the last time - a full, proper death, not the impossible space he’d fallen into when he’d walked into that portal. He’d barely been able to survive the last battle, and that had been with a mech suit that had granted him a slew of extra power.

The king was right. He was nothing.

Yes, that’s it, the voice purred. Let me win. Choose the easier path, little Prince. Maybe I will find it within me to expedite your death.

Hands found his shoulders again, and this time, he didn’t have the energy to throw them off. He was too lost within himself, too far gone. 

You are never too far gone. You have more within you than he ever will. Where he holds weakness, your heart holds strength. It has always been within you. You must realize this.

You must do your duty to the Realms.

You must do what you need to do.

He couldn’t.

Not this time.

What a good little Prince, the king laughed. So obedient to his King. And as a reward for your obedience, I will make your pathetic human village my new throne. I will raze it to the ground and rebuild it into glory. It will have the honor of being the first conquest of my new reign.

The words sent a jolt through him, one so strong it nearly knocked him over. Amity Park, being threatened again…

He could deal with being berated in his own head. He could deal with whatever threats got thrown his way. He could deal with whatever the king could attack him with.

He would never stand for a threat against his people.

In this world or any.

That’s it. You draw your strength from a source more potent than he could ever dream. You draw your power from within, not about. Where do you draw that from, little Prince?

He gritted his teeth. Forced himself up onto one knee. Where did he draw his strength from?

The hands on his shoulders, one from each of his friends, answered his question.

He focused on the image of their faces. Of Jazz’s face. Of his parents’. Of Frostbite. Princess Dora. Mr. Lancer. Valerie. Pandora. Wulf. Cujo. Dani. 

Where did he draw his strength from?

More images came to mind. Dash playing fetch with his little dog in the park. Ember headlining a concert. Mr. and Mrs. Foley laughing together at the dinner table. Desiree smiling as she granted a child’s wish upon a star. Wes standing triumphantly in front of his conspiracy board.

Where did he draw his strength from?

And now places. His home, with the portal and his room and the kind of perfect chaos only a Fenton could create. The Far Frozen, with endless snow and ice and an entire tribe of yetis who welcomed him with open arms and a safe bed for him to rest whenever he needed it. Casper High, with all the little nooks and crannies he’d discovered for hiding places and the students and teachers who’d learned to deal with ghosts right alongside him and tiny wonders like the little blob ghost clan living in the condemned girls’ bathroom on the second floor. The sky, with its endless expanse and absolute freedom and the stars he adored so much. The Ghost Zone, with clouds of ectoplasm to swim in and new adventures behind every door and the perpetual thrill of something supernatural that drew him back every time.

Yes. He knew from where he drew his strength.

Some deep, secret part of him still doubted himself. Still wondered if there was truth to the fears being fed to him. He knew he was putting on a little bravado.

But if it meant fighting to keep the balance… To keep everything and everyone he loved safe…

The hot grip faltered.

Insolent child! the king snarled. Crown or no, you are powerless against me. Whatever you love, I will tear it down. I will make you watch as I kill each of your precious humans, one by one. I will burn your cities and I will force you to light the flame. Would you truly subject them to such torture for the sake of your own pathetic revolt?

The king’s words almost sent Danny grinding to a halt again, but he felt something prodding in his core. Something new, yet familiar. Something that he swore carried what could only be described as the promise of spring. It wanted let out.

He didn’t know how to let it out.

But he focused on it. Thought about Amity Park in the springtime and seeing its citizens emerging after a long, gray Midwestern winter. Thought about visiting the Realms and hearing about all sorts of traditional festivals of fertility and renewal and rebirth celebrated by all the different people of all the different realms.

Yes. That’s it. Focus, little Prince. You will not let him win.

For once, he felt in tune with the voice in his head. 

And it felt right.

He stood. Focused. Just like they had when he’d calmed the Ancients, his emotions calibrated themselves to his breathing. Only this time, he needed it internally.

Inhale the good. The light. Exhale the darkness. 

You think you can free yourself of me so easily, the king said with a sneer. What good will such naivete serve when I bring you to your knees and assert what is mine?

Focus. The good. Mr. Lancer’s proud smile when he turned in a book report on time. Frostbite teaching him how to sculpt little flowers out of frost. Unabashedly cuddling up next to his mom on movie night.

He could feel the king’s rage. It burned against his core. He wanted to cry out against it.

He didn’t. 

Clockwork’s patient eyes as he explained intricacies of time. Him and Cujo playing fetch in the sky. Sam and Tucker, ever loyal and always by his side.

The burn began to fade.

The fuzzy feeling of saving a civilian. The purpose he felt helping a spirit move on. The duty he had to both his worlds.

The duty he had to himself.

And what will you do about that duty?

“I messed up,” he whispered. This time, when he spoke, he knew he did so aloud. He couldn’t find it in him to talk much louder than that. The echoes of the king’s voice were still too loud.

“No you didn’t,” Sam said immediately. “Why would you say that?”

“No, this time I really did.” He swallowed. “I took the Crown away from him before…” He trailed off. No. He couldn’t revisit those memories.

Not yet.

The room was quiet for a moment before Pandora spoke up. “So… he does not have the Crown? It’s not with him?”

Danny hesitated. “No. But he’s looking for it. Right now.”

“What?”

A doorbell rang.

[roses-r-rosie3]

Dahlia

Ethan Landry x M!Reader

Warnings: Angst and swearing

(Reader is Anika’s brother)

Summary: This is basically a mix of the fan made script of scream 6 and the final script of scream 6. And for those of you who don’t know the fan made scream 6 script, it was supposed to be Anika and Quinn, Anika being Amber’s sister, and Quinn being Richie’s brother

Quote: “Oh you dumb thing, it was all just an act!”

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sam, Mindy, and Tara look in horror as not one, not two, not three, but four ghostface’s aligned themselves side by side. Ethan was the first to unmask himself as one out of the four ghostface.

“Mindy was right, it was easy to juke the roommate lottery, I mean all I had to do to meet you was to room with a conceded condescending alpha, literally named Chad, fuck it felt good to kill him!” Ethan said.

“This was your grandmother’s Sam, Nancy Loomis, really runs in the fucking family doesn’t it?” Ethan said.

“Speaking of Family, my name isn’t Ethan Landry!” Ethan said enthusiastically.

“It’s Ethan Kirsh!” Ethan said.

“Kirsh?! As in Richie Kirsh’s Brother?!” Sam Said.

“Yep, and speaking of Kirsh, I’m not the only Kirsh in on this!” Ethan said as the second of the four ghostface revealed themselves as Quinn.

“Hey roomies, you didn’t see that one coming did you?” Said Quinn.

“Yeah because you died!” Tara said.

“Kinda didn’t, though it was a good way to get off the suspect list, stab Gale weathers, stab Mindy on the train” Quinn said.

“Who are you then?” Sam said as she looked at the second to last ghostface who have yet to unmask themselves.

“I know” Mindy grumbled.

“Who?” Sam said.

“Never trust the love interest” Mindy said.

The third ghostface revealed themselves to be Anika

“Surprise! Didn’t see that one coming did ya!” Anika smiled.

“But… we loved each other” Mindy said.

“Oh you dumb thing, it was all just an act!” Anika laughed.

“You’re Just Like Richie, nothing but a shitty partner” Sam said.

“Except I do it better” Anika said

“If it’s you three that just leaves, Danny?” Sam said.

The fourth ghostface unmasks themselves to be you.

“Y/n? But weren’t you supposed to be outside with Danny!” Said Sam

“Let’s just say, Danny was the first person to find out about my little secret” you smirked.

“Why are you and Anika even in on this! You two look nothing like Richie” Tara said.

“We never said we were Richie’s siblings, we’re Amber’s siblings” Anika said.

“How did you guys even find each other!” Mindy yelled.

“Well me and Ethan have already been dating not too long after Richie and Amber started dating” you said.

“And after we Found out that you killed both Amber and Richie, we all knew that you had to be taken care of!” Quinn yelled.

As they started to explain their motives Kirby got up and shot you n the shoulder. And all hell broke loose after that. Tara took the chance to hit Quinn in the face with the brick in her hand while Ethan tackled Kirby and stabbed her with the knife that Charlie walker used to stab her and Anika was fighting with Sam.

You saw Anika get thrown across one of the display cases by Sam. After that you saw Sam hit Ethan in the head with a brick and repeatedly stabbed him. You then heard Tara calling for Sam to go up the ladder and to cross the balcony.

You helped the rest of the group up as he came up with a plan. You and Anika would go up to the balcony area while Quinn and Ethan were going to help shoot one of the Carpenter sisters off of the balcony.

As you and Anika made your way up the staircase you both heard a gunshot and once they got up they saw Tara dangling from the balcony as Sam tried to hold on. The plan worked, or so you had thought. As you and Anika slowly approached Sam, you both paused as Sam let Tara go and held a gun up to them.

As Tara dropped you saw Ethan stab her, but Tara shoved the knife down his mouth as you looked in horror. After Tara pulled the knife out of his mouth you looked at Sam in fury.

“Looks like you lost your little boyfriend” Sam said as she smiled at you.

You ran at Sam with the knife but your life ended right then and there as Sam put a bullet through your head.

A/n: The ending was a little rushed but I really wanted to make this story bc the Ethan Landry x Male Reader Community has really been dry lately

[imtooscaredforthis]

Unknown Caller

Ghostface x Reader Smut

Summary: Late at night, you start getting texts from the serial killer and your stalker, Ghostface.

Mentions of: Threats, Death, Stabbing, Sexting, Phone sex, Knife play, Oral Sex, Voyeurism, Recording w/out Consent and Danny being super horny

Word Count: 2.4K

With an exhausted groan, you collapsed back onto your bed, letting the mattress suck you in. It had been yet another long, shitty work day, leaving you mentally drained and wanting to sleep.

The only thing that kept you from sleeping was how gross, sticky, and sweaty you felt from walking around in that shitty waitress uniform. It was a summer day in Florida, after all. Of course you would be burning your ass off. And somehow, the urge to take a shower overpowered your fatigue.

So after an extra moment or two of laying down, you got up, grabbing your phone and a towel, heading into the bathroom and locking the door behind you, just in case any unwelcome visitors came in. You knew exactly who that visitor was.

You tried to shake the thought of the masked murderer, not even daring to think his name. The last thing you needed tonight was having him come around. Maybe he would just give you a break for once and leave you alone. Maybe…

Sighing, you tapped at your phone, playing some music and stripping down. Stepping into the shower, you turned the heat all the way up, letting the hot water pour down onto your skin until it turned red. You washed off all the stress and trouble from the day, finally being able to relax.

Once you got out of the shower, you slipped on a black lacy bra with matching panties, using a robe to cover it up. You had grown used to spending the nights alone, with no one to take home, no friends to speak with.

You lost them all, since they all thought you were being crazy and paranoid about being stalked by Ghostface. Even after one of your dear friends died, (the only one who believed you) they still thought you were crazy. In fact, they thought you killed him. And the cops were no help either, thinking all the threats were just some prankster or copycat.

So now, here you sat on your bed, scrolling through social media, when you got a text.

Unknown: Evening, gorgeous

You stared at the message blankly, feeling your heart drop in your stomach. It was him.

You cast a protective glance over at your bedroom window, which had the curtains drawn and the blinds shut, as an attempt of giving yourself some sort of privacy from the stalker. Was he out there? Waiting outside the window to peek, or behind your door to jump out at you. Even though he’s been doing this for a while, you’d still never get used to it.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you began to type up a message to respond to him. You learned the hard way to answer his texts and calls.

(Y/N): What do you want to torture me with now?

Even though you were still quite afraid of the killer, there were times where you found him a complete nuisance, and got the guts to told him. This was one of those times.

Unknown: C’mon, don’t be like that. I have fun with the games we play. But I want to try something different tonight.

(Y/N): Like what?

Unknown: Like how I can see what you’re wearing and can’t help but wonder if you put all of that on just for me

You felt your face go a bright red, looking around and grabbing the hem over your robe, moving it over, attempting to cover up your body.

Unknown: There’s no use in covering it up now, I’ve already seen everything and it’s gotten me so hard

Looking at the text, you blinked a few times, making sure this was real. Maybe it was just some weird sex dream. You pinched yourself. Nope. This was real. The feared serial killer of Roseville was sexting you.

Unknown: You look so cute like that, all surprised and scared, it makes me want to cut you up and fuck you until you can’t walk.

Unknown: You’d like that, wouldn’t you?

Your mouth went dry as you tried to think of something to text him back with, your body running hot with arousal. You can’t believe this is turning you on. It really shouldn’t be.

Unknown: There’s no need to be so shy, (y/n). You know we can be honest with each other.

(Y/N): Yes I would

Unknown: Good girl

Unknown: My cock is just throbbing thinking about how nice and tight you would be, how good you would squeeze me, how I’d love to fill you up with my cum. And you’d love every second of it, wouldn’t you, baby?

(Y/N): Fuck yes

You rubbed your thighs together, feeling how drenched you were getting, a silent moan leaving your lips, not even realizing he was paying attention to every little detail.

Unknown: Shit, that was so hot. I’m really turning you on, aren’t I?

Unknown: You want to touch yourself don’t you? Want to get off on the dirty things I’m telling you? Well you can’t. Not unless you beg for it like a good girl.

You would object, but you knew you were too far in to stop yourself. It had been quite a long time since you had done something like this, and a part of you felt desperate. So, you did it. You begged.

(Y/N): Please, Ghostface. Please let me touch myself.

Unknown: Good. Go ahead, but take off that robe. You won’t be needing it.

Moving your arm out, you shrugged the robe off your shoulders, spreading your legs ever so slightly. Might as well give him a show.

You ran your hand down your stomach, moving it down to your hips, and then your thigh, while your other hand stayed high on your chest, running your finger over your clothed nipple. After a moment or two, you dipped your finger under the fabric, running it up and down your drenched slit. You played with your clit, leaning back and moaning softly.

Unknown: Fuck, I just want to run my knife all over the curves of your body

Unknown: Put two fingers in

You did as told, pushing two fingers into your opening, thrusting them in slowly. You didn’t even notice the distant flash of a camera recording you peeking out from behind your window.

You shut your eyes, biting your lip and arching your back, as you began to pick up the pace. The sound of your phone chiming managed to make you open your eyes, and snap out of your little fantasy, looking down at your phone.

Unknown: You look so fucking hot right now, I want to come in there and ruin you

(Y/N): Why don’t you?

Unknown: It’s tempting, but I need to do one thing first.

Unknown Number is calling…

You picked up, slowing your fingers. “Why’d you- why’d you stop?” He questioned between groans, his voice strained. So he was touching himself too.

“I didn’t know if you wanted me to-”

“Keep on going. Don’t stop. Add a finger.” He instructed.

An image of Ghostface stroking himself popped into your mind, making you pick up the pace. A string of mewls and whimpers left your mouth as you went even faster, feeling yourself grow close.

“You sound- shit, so nice babe. Makes me want to- even more-”

“Fuck, I’m g-going to- ah” Your body froze up, feeling yourself clench around your fingers.

It seemed like he was close too, considering how much he was panting, low groans and grunts. There was a brief silence on the other line, and you wondered if he hung up on you. But then, he spoke. “I’m coming in.”

He ended the call and you felt your heart leap in excitement, calming down from your high, and preparing for him to come in. You looked from the window to the door, wondering where he’d be entering.

A few minutes went by, and he still hadn’t shown up. A part of you wondered if this was some sort of sick game to humiliate you. If he was just going to leave you all alone.

“Miss me?” A familiar voice whispered into your ear, making you jump.

“Jesus don’t scare me like that.” You muttered, turning to face him.

“Why so grumpy? Is it because I kept you waiting? So impatient, so needy. I love it.” He grasped your chin, tilting your head and making you look up at him. He ran a gloved finger over your lips, tracing your cupid’s bow.

You felt your body grow hot at the contact, your thighs clenching together. He noticed, moving his hand away to finally give you what you so desperately craved. Grabbing your shoulders, he pushed you down on the bed, straddling you.

Slowly, he ran his knife over your skin, tracing it from your throat, down to your collar bones, and to your chest. It seemed he was being merciful tonight, because you could barely feel the blade against your skin, only a light tickle.

Moving his weapon to the middle of your chest, Ghostface sliced open your brassiere, splitting it in half and revealing your breasts. Well, there went your good underwear.

He ran his finger over your nipple, watching it harden under his touch, pinching it softly. The killer studied your expressions closely, taking in every single detail. The way your lips parted slightly, the way your cheeks heated up, and the way your eyebrows knitted together. God, you were so adorable.

Ghostface shifted his attention to your panties, cutting them off on the side, and pulling them down to your ankles slowly. He moved his hand back up to your opening, running his finger up your wet slit, feeling how soaked it was.

“So wet, all for me? I must’ve really left you waiting. Guess I better get to it then, huh?” His voice was smug, low, and full of mischief. You knew he was playing with you.

He rutted against his hips against you, making you whimper slightly. You knew he wouldn’t do anything, until you said it. “Please, fuck me, Ghostface.”

“Danny.”

You felt your eyes widen at his words. “What?”

“Call me Danny.” In all the time that you had known him, you never got a name out of him. But he was telling you it now. Why? Why was he doing this?

You were too busy processing what just happened to notice the sound of his buckle clicking, and his knife dropping onto the floor, while he was now holding his phone instead. The flash of a camera burned into your eyes, making you look up at him and snap out of your thoughts.

“What’re you doing?” You asked, squinting at the light and covering your eyes with one hand trying to hide the glare.

“Makin a little movie.” He grabbed your hands with his free one, moving them from your face and pinning them above your head. “And you’re the star. Aren’t you excited?”

“I- shit-” Before you could even respond to what he was saying, you felt his cock press up against your soaked folds.

He moved his camera down to your breasts, watching your chest heave, before moving it back up to your face. “Now what’s the magic word? C’mon, you know what to say. You’ve been saying it all night.”

“Please, Danny.” You begged, bucking your hips up against his hardened member. “Please what?”

“Please just fuck me.” You rolled your head against the pillow. He was driving you crazy at this point with how much he was teasing you and making you beg.

Finally, he gave you what you had grown desperate for, entering you with a rough thrust. It was painful at first, the killer not showing any mercy, but you forced yourself to grow used to it.

You moaned out, the feeling of fulfillment overcoming your already sensitive hole. You arched your back, grabbing onto his forearm, digging your nails into his muscle under his robe.

Tears began to stream down your face as you babbled, incoherent words slipping from your lips. It was too good, and you couldn’t think of something, anything, to say to describe it. He was fucking you stupid.

He zoomed in on your tears, watching as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “Damn, baby. Is it really that good? Do you love getting fucked by my cock that much?”

You didn’t speak, not even sure if you could. He pinched your nipple, making you yelp. “Y-yes! Its- it’s so g-good.”

Danny moved his free hand to your clit, thrusting even deeper, until he hit just at the right spot. You cried out, clenching around him. Moaning out for him to please never stop, to keep going.

“Oh baby, you think I could stop? Not with the way you’re clenching around and calling out my name, begging for- shit.” He grunted, feeling your walls begin to massage him, you were getting close. And so was he.

He nestled his head into the crook of your neck and shoulder, pulling his mask up his face, and biting down, breaking your skin and drawing your blood, his movements growing even harsher. While you dug your nails into his back, reaching your orgasm, Danny not too far behind.

The half-masked killer wiped the blood from his lips, grinning down at you. “There, I marked you as mine. You’re my little slut, got it? Say it.”

You nodded, eyes still shut, your mouth open with only moans and gasps escaping. You forced yourself to speak, voice all hoarse and raw. “I’m your slut, Ghostface- Danny- whatever, I’m all yours.”

“That’s it. Such a good girl. Fuck-” His thrusts grew sloppy, and he rubbed at your clit even harder, making you climax once again with him. He pulled out, releasing on your stomach, and ending the video.

He pressed a rough kiss to your lips, before readjusting his mask, cleaning himself off, and fixing his clothes up. All the while you laid there, nude, panting, and coming down from the intense high you just had. You felt another flash blind your eyes, and the sound of a camera clicking, knowing he just took another picture.

Moving aside your curtains and blinds, Ghostface unlocked your window, pulling it up and stepping through. “This was fun. Let’s do it again sometime. See you soon.”

[shirtlessfelix]

can i request ghostfelix?? where ghostface realizes he takes a liking for felix and they start getting all cutesy and shit ^^

Yes!!! My beloveds <3 Got carried away with this one lol, very dialogue-heavy. Hope you like it!

Not So Subtle

1071 words

Felix was bored.

Hours had gone by without an interesting trial, each one ending far too quickly. Really, it felt like everybody was getting more and more sick of the realm as time went on, and they were starting to find less and less ways to keep it satisfying.

Again, Felix was spooked by Danny Johnson, and again he was pulled off of a generator. He should have been trying to get out of his hold, but he remained perfectly still, perfectly silent so Danny could hook him easily and get it over with.

Instead of that, however, Danny stood with Felix in front of the hook, walking around with him, turning in small circles—he wondered if Danny was bored as well. "What's wrong with you?" he asked. "Don't say you died on me already."

Felix told him, "I'm over this shit," accent coming through heavier in his frustration.

"Over what, are you tired of me?" That one earned Danny a weak punch in his side which made him laugh. "Whatever, tough guy. I'll leave you alone." He carried Felix back to the generator and went to harass the other survivors, only a little hurt that Felix didn't feel like entertaining him.

And that was that...

Until the next trial he saw Felix in the snow and decided to stay away from him, but Danny still found himself looking in his direction. He didn't want to let Felix out of his sight, and stalking was in his blood, so he didn't feel the least bit bad about it. The negative came when he stared for too long, and Felix would figure out he was watching.

After the third or fourth time he was startled by the Entity's clue, Felix called out, "You're a creep, you know that?" and stood still, waiting for Danny's response or for him to come crawling from the shadows. To his surprise, Danny managed to get right behind him, scaring him half to death like he did best. "Fucking—"

"Sorry, sorry," Danny said, raising his hands in surrender with his knife nowhere to be found. "Calm down, it's in my pocket."

"Why is it in your pocket?"

"Because I don't want to kill you," Danny said simply. "I thought you'd be a little more happy to hear that."

"You've just been watching me the whole time, haven't you? I guess it's better than being stabbed."

"No! No. Actually, I scared the shit out of your girlfriend, I'll have you know."

"My girlfriend. What girlfriend?"

"That chick over there"—Danny pointed behind him—"she's not your girlfriend?" Felix shook his head. "Boyfriend then?" Felix flushed pink.

"Okay, screw you," he said and started to walk off, but Danny ran after him hiding a smile behind his mask.

"What, I'm sorry! I'm sorry."

"No, asshole, I'm not—" Felix paused, far too embarrassed to keep talking, and he wished he had a mask.

"You're not what?"

"You really are the worst, you know that?" Danny tilted his head, trying to get Felix to open up a little. He wondered if he'd just cracked the reason Felix was being so uptight about everything lately. "No one's that lonely."

"What do you mean? You're cute." Danny immediately regretted saying so, but Felix's sheepishness actually showed, so clearly he wasn't the only one he was making things worse for.

"I liked you better when you didn't talk."

"You don't think I'm cute?"

"How—" Danny caved in and lifted his mask, revealing that his face was just as flushed as Felix's was, eyebrows raised expectantly. Felix had to admit that he was cute, but he hated to think so. "My standards must be really low." Danny laughed, and his smile made Felix smile just a little bit.

"Gotcha," Danny teased before picking Felix up again and carrying him off somewhere. He struggled this time.

"I can walk myself!"

"No, no, this is more fun. Besides..." Danny brought him inside the shack and put him on his feet again, but didn't move his hands from Felix's waist. "I can be smooth if I want to be," he smiled, and Felix tried (failed) to hold back a chuckle.

He put his hand over Danny's, only wanting to move it from his side to take his glove off and find out how his skin felt. Danny's hand was clammy from being in a glove for so long, but it was warm and felt good against his freezing fingertips. "Too bad you didn't wear yours," Danny told him, and Felix shrugged. Danny took his other glove off and gave it to him to wear.

"You're lucky I'm cold."

"And what does that mean, hm?" Felix looked Danny in the eye for a moment before stepping closer and putting his arms around his waist, Danny's snaking over his shoulders in a warm embrace. They stood like that for a while, relaxing into each other and forgetting about what they're in a trial for anyway.

Felix sighed. "I haven't hugged anybody in so long."

"I know," Danny said. "Me neither... this is nice." Felix smiled into his shoulder and tightened his hold, their bodies pressing together and warming each other up. Danny let his hand slide up to the back of Felix's neck, massaging circles into it that relaxed Felix even more before his fingers poked into his hair.

"That feels good."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

Neither of them realized how long they'd been standing there until one of the exit gates wailed in the distance, and the other survivors had gone on without Felix. They figured he'd been killed early into the trial and that Danny was having more gruesome fun with him. Felix didn't care how long he would be there; he didn't want to leave.

Danny asked, "Wanna get out of here?"

"Not really."

"Well, I do." Felix was disheartened until he continued. "Let's meet in the woods, yeah? It'd be less cold." That made him smile again.

"Sure. Here," he said, starting to take the gloves off before Danny stopped him.

"Keep them. I'll get new ones anyway. Come on, I see the hatch over there."

So, Danny walked with his arm around Felix's waist, pulling him in close, bringing him to the open hatch that howled as it beckoned Felix to jump into it. Danny kissed his cheek before he left, a warmth in his heart that he'd never felt before in his life. It was a lovely sensation.

[walkerwords]

“The New Queen” Negan x F!Reader

GIF CREDIT: https://gph.is/g/4be0J8L

REQUEST: From anonymous: “ Can you do a negan imagine where the reader was his real wife before the walkers came and after he starts getting more wives and kinda forgets the reader, she leaves in the middle of the night. Then maybe a year later negan finds out about another community and tries to take their stuff but he and the saviors get captured and they find out that the reader is the leader?” YUP.

Word Count: 3324

Warning: Swearing

Song I Wrote To: “What The Water Gave Me” by Florence + The Machine

Note: Thank you for the prompt, just a short little stand alone one shot.

-----

This was the fourth night in a row that you slept alone. 

Your hand found the empty space next to you, your nails clawing at the cool fabric. Negan was out once again, most likely with one of them. You knew the other wives were all a part of his tactic to keep his control over the Sanctuary. Just as his brazen actions were on the day you and your husband had stormed the factory and taken control in the first place.

You ignored the bloody bodies that littered the floor of the old building as he walked among his new followers. Occasionally he would look back at you with that damn smile of his and regardless of the things he did, it never failed to make you melt. 

However, that was when you were considered his equal, his queen, the only woman for him. 

Now, you didn’t know where you stood. Half the time you didn’t see Negan. Your husband was always with Simon or Dwight or Arat planning something horrible or looking for more communities to torture. You had overheard Dwight talking to someone about a new place.

Crouched in a dark corner you listened as Dwight recounted what had happened. They had killed all the men, even the boys. Your stomach twisted in on itself. Negan couldn’t have known about that, right? He had rules. Then again, everyone was Negan and his Saviors never did anything without his knowledge. Disgust turned to anger and it was then that you realized that something had to change if you were going to continue to be by Negan’s side. 

As night turned to morning, the door to your bedroom finally opened. You stood by the window watching the Sanctuary wake up for the day, your back turned to him. “Long night?” you asked, keeping your eyes on the rising sun. Negan sighed, collapsing into a chair by the bed. 

“You know me, doll, always workin’,” he said, leaning back. You turned to him and your stomach recoiled at the sight of his mussed shirt and tousled hair. He wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore. “You’re doing it again,” Negan said. 

“Doing what?” you asked, exasperated. 

“Looking at me like I killed your childhood pet,” he said, rubbing a hand over his cheeks. 

“I’m just tired, Negan,” you said. “Haven’t been sleeping well.” 

“You gotta get out more, (Y/N),” he said, “Get some sun on your back again. Can’t have you going all distant on me, can I?” Negan got up and approached you, his fingers going under your chin to lift your face to his. He leaned in kissed your lips, but you felt nothing. When he pulled back you could smell perfume and you instantly recognized it as Frankie’s. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said. Negan grinned at you and then turned to strip off his shirt and grab a new one. You watched as he went around your bedroom getting ready for the day. When he went to pick up that damn bat of his, you turned away again. 

“Might be another long night, doll,” Negan said, “Don’t wait up!” he called over his shoulder as he sauntered out of the room. 

“Don’t worry,” you whispered to yourself, “I won’t.”

-------

That night you didn’t sleep. 

You grabbed enough supplies to get you through at least a week out in the world as well as a couple of weapons you knew Negan kept hidden in the room. As you put everything in your backpack, you glanced down at your left hand. The diamond ring sat proudly on your finger just as it had since he had asked you to be his wife before the world turned to shit. 

You twisted it off and placed it on the nightstand on his side of the bed. You then took out the knife he had gifted you on your first night at the Sanctuary. You stabbed the blade into the wood next to the ring. You couldn’t do it anymore. It was all too much. The blood, the women, the kneeling… he was no longer Negan. At least not the Negan you fell in love with. 

Grabbing your bag, you snuck out of the room. You couldn’t help but laugh at the lack of security outside of your bedroom. You figured he probably had his men watching over the new wives now. The thought only made you move faster through the corridors of the factory. 

You, of course, knew all the checkpoints throughout the place as you were the one to help establish them, especially the watch points. You had been a professor before everything had happened and your concentration was the history of warfare in past civilizations. You figured that was one of the only reasons Negan still kept you around. 

Sneaking through the dark halls, you finally made it outside. The snipers on the North side were screwing around as usual so when you passed through their sights, no alarm was sounded. The wall of the Dead and their groans pierced through the night. Tossing your jacket over the top of the fence, you got over the barbed wire and hit the ground, the moans around you hiding the sound of your boots. You moved through the decaying bodies, taking out a few as you headed for the road at the edge of the Sanctuary. 

Slipping over the final fence, you turned to look at the building that had once been your home but turned into your tomb. You were already imagining Negan’s reaction of finding you gone and your ring and knife on the table. You liked to think that maybe he would look for you or even cry in your absence, but knowing the new man he had become, he would probably just go and comfort himself with one of his new whores. He might even get a new one to replace you. 

Taking one last look, you headed North in hopes of finding a new beginning and prayed you’d never see your husband again. 

-----

2 YEARS LATER

A knock at the door to your office had you looking up from the weapon you were sharpening.

“Come in,” you called. The door pushed open and your second-in-command, Ari, stood in the threshold. “What is it? You have that look on your face.” 

“What look?” she asked. 

“The look that says shit is about to hit the fan,” you offered. Ari chuckled. 

“Got some news, boss. Looks like some kind of caravan is moving along the Southern border,” Ari told you. 

“Hostile?” you asked.

“Possibly. They have some pretty big armored trucks and Danny already took out two scouts.”

“Dead?” Ari nodded. 

“They had weapons, wouldn’t say who they were,” Ari said, “He didn’t want to take any chances.”

“No, that’s good,” you said, “I don’t want to take any chances either. Not after what happened with the Rangers.” Ari nodded in agreement. When the group who called themselves the Rangers had attacked the Parthenon, the community you now controlled, you swore that nobody would be coming into your land unless you gave the green light. 

“Orders?” Ari asked. You looked down at the blade on the table before you, the matching one was already slung over your shoulder. 

“If they come to the gates,” You look at Ari with a small devious smile, “take them.”

The caravan indeed arrived at the gates of the Parthenon not long after their scouts were killed. Ari radioed to you and you met them at the front. Your people passed you, nodding respectfully at the woman they called “Athena”. You didn’t like the nickname, but you never corrected them except when it came to your inner circle. It also gave you the illusion of anonymity when it came to your enemies. 

After escaping the Sanctuary, you had walked for days. When the water had run dry and you were close to starving, you had found the Parthenon. You named it that due to the old greek columns that stood at the front of the old plaza. Survivors were already there, fighting to stay alive. They had offered you food and a place to sleep. It was there that you met Ari, Danny, and a few others. They had already begun to fortify the area with fences, but you challenged them to think bigger and so you got to work. 

Two years later and the Parthenon was fortified, armed, and a flourishing community that elected you as the leader. Nobody went hungry, nobody was forced to stay or go, and nobody kneeled. The original Parthenon in Greece was the temple of Athena, the goddess of wisdom and war strategy. You figured it was a sign, as did Ari, which is where your flamboyant nickname arose. 

At this moment, however, it came in handy. Ari stood at the watch post above the steel gates that sat between the largest columns. The roar of the trucks stopped before your front door and Ari, trained her gun down on the caravan. “You have one chance at turning around assholes!” Ari yelled down to the anonymous people at your gates. 

“Oh come on! We’re here to make friends, Darlin’!” The world rocked beneath your feet at the voice. It had been two years, but you would never forget his voice. Not his, not ever. You grabbed your walkie immediately. 

“Take them now, Ari! Right now!” you yelled. Ari wasted no time in giving the signal. Your people, the warriors you had trained, came out of their hiding spots both inside the walls and outside. Shouts of surprise echoed across the group. Gunshots went off and curses were thrown, but soon, everything settled. Ari looked to you as you approached the front gates. 

“More blood will be spilled if you try anything in the presence of Athena,” Danny warned who was on the opposite side of Ari. 

“Who the fuck is Athena?” Your teeth gritted as he spoke again, fueling your rage and the sadness that pooled in your chest. You looked to Maxon and Conrad who were the sentries at the gate. 

“Open it,” you ordered. They nodded and took a handle each. Ari and Danny dropped down from their posts and flanked either side of you as the gates were pulled open. Before you were around twenty men and women. Each one had two of yours behind them, guns pressed to their heads as they kneeled before you. A man to the left was the first to recognize you. 

“Holy hell,” he said and you turned to look at him with a small smile. 

“Hello Simon,” you greeted the Savior. Arat was next to him who looked at you in complete shock. You then turned to the man of the hour. Negan kneeled before you as you approached him. He stared at you as if he was seeing a ghost. In front of him lay that damn bat and you could see that it had a lot more bloodstains on it since the last time you had seen the wretched thing.

Stopping in front of him, you leaned down and picked up Lucille. He didn’t say a thing as you held her. You turned the bat over in your hands before swinging it up onto your shoulder and smiling at him for the first time. “(Y/N)?” he gasped. 

“Hi, honey.” 

-----

It took five of your men to bring Negan into the holding cell. 

Once he snapped out of his daze, he became angry again. He struggled against your enforcers as you led them into the jail. It was a small building on the edge of the community that you rarely used anymore. It was usually only used as a Drunk Tank for when Danny went on a run and brought back some whiskey or when you caught him with his moonshine business. The latter wasn’t all that bad as you still had a few jars stashed under your bed. 

Your men hauled Negan into the cell and held him down while Danny attached the chains, securing him. Ari approached you as you stood in the corner of the small cage, watching him. “His men and women are being held in the stables, we have their weapons.”

“Check the trucks, take everything,” you ordered. Ari furrowed her brow. You weren’t plunderers, but these were no normal hostiles. “Trust me.” Ari nodded and then ordered everyone out to start raiding the Savior trucks. As soon as the cell door banged behind you, you stepped from the shadows.

You slowly circled Negan like a shark after prey. Lucille was still on your shoulder, the bat named for his first wife, the one he left for you. “I forgot how heavy she was,” you said as you came around to face him again. You swung Lucille around, testing out a few strikes. “You always made it look so easy.”

“(Y/N)...” he began. 

“No!” you shouted, slamming Lucille against the bars behind you. “You don’t talk, you listen.” He glared at you, fighting his restraints. “You never stopped, did you? You’re still scaring people into submission and killing them when they defy you. All because you want their shit,” you said, stepping closer to him. “And to think I thought you would change in the years after I left. Tell me, Negan, how are your whores?” 

“I thought you were dead,” he said and you stepped back, placing Lucille on the ground, leaning on the end of it. 

“No, but I have a feeling I would be if I stayed in that place,” you said. “When did you notice I was gone? The next day? Or was it one of your sheep that discovered my absence?”

“You mean how we slaughtered people so you could play king to a bunch of idiots that feared you? No, Negan, we didn’t do anything. I just followed you like a scared little girl, but I think we both know I couldn’t do that forever.”

“I found the ring in the morning,” he told you. “Why did you leave after everything we went through?”

“So you left because you were scared?” he asked. You laughed, shaking your head. 

“No, I left because I was sick of being just another one of your toys. You changed Negan and not for the better. You started this whole...empire and left me in the dust. Did you ever think about what would happen when you started taking other women to bed? Then again, I shouldn’t be surprised, I was the one who you screwed while still married to Lucille.” The mention of his ex-wife made his eyes flare in anger. “We both know that no matter how much I loved you, you were not a good man.”

“So you became Athena,” he sneered. You shrugged and started to pace again, Lucille dragging behind you. 

“I didn’t pick the nickname, but yeah, I guess I did. You did tell me I needed to get out more,” you joked. Looking back over at him, there seemed to be something on his mind besides this impromptu reunion. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Negan?” you asked. 

“Why would you care?” he asked. You shrugged. 

“Call me curious.” he thought about it for a moment before leaning back, the chains on his legs rattling. 

“Dwighty boy snuck out with his wife and sister-in-law,” Negan said. You let out a laugh. 

“Ah, so the little bird finally left the nest?” You sighed, “I can’t say I’m surprised, he hated you. I’m surprised he didn’t do it sooner.”

“What the hell happened to you?” he asked, his voice rising. 

“You did!” You hollered, throwing the bat down and crossing over to him, getting in his face. “You became a monster, Negan! The man I loved, the man I married, the one I promised to always stand by became something out of a nightmare. You left me behind when you took the Sanctuary and you never looked back. I was lucky if I got five minutes with you on a good day and that was only if your wives weren’t in the mood for your bullshit. You wanna know why I left? It’s because you left me first!” You pushed him back, taking a few steps back. 

“So this is all my fault? You were too unhappy and instead of coming to me, you take off in the middle of the night and I have to spend my resources and time looking for you!”

“Like you actually cared! You had the rest of them! You had your fucking kingdom and I was sick of waiting for the guillotine to come down on my head because you were bored of me, Negan!”

“Is that was you honestly think of me?” he asked, shocked. “(Y/N), I left Lucille for you! I made sure you survived when the world went to shit! I took the Sanctuary for you!”

“I never asked you to!” you screamed. “I never asked you to become a killer, a looter, a king! I just wanted you, Negan! I thought we would be taking on this world together just as we did with everything else. But I guess you had different plans and apparently I wasn’t a part of them.” 

“Goddammit, you are still so fucking clueless!” he yelled. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You don’t get it, do you?”

“Oh, please enlighten me then,” you challenged. 

“I never cared about them, the others,” he said, “Hell, they were always just for show, to keep their families in line. Yeah, I may have given in to a few temptations here and there, but shit woman, I didn’t love them. I didn’t even like them! You are who I love! Did you ever notice that you were never under heavy watch? That nobody followed you or got in your face? That’s because I trusted you, I saw you as an equal, not just my wife.” 

“You had a shit way of showing it,” you spat back. 

“Please, (Y/N), I love you and I…” he trailed off. 

“What?”

“I got rid of them, the other women,” he said, “I let them go after you left.” You crossed your arms. 

“Why?” 

“Because what was the point? Not like I gave a shit about anyone but you. You were all I had left and then you… Jesus, how do I make it up to you?” You laughed, unable to believe what you were hearing.

“You think all this,” you gestured around you, “is some kind of reconciliation discussion? That we were going to kiss and make up? You really don’t think I haven’t been keeping up with what  you and your Saviors have been up to?” 

“So what? Are you going to kill me?” 

“No, Negan, I’m not going to kill you,” you said softly as you leaned towards him, placing your hands on his thighs. “You’re my guest and will continue to be until I decide otherwise.” Negan looked in your eyes, your breath mingling with his. 

“You can’t keep me here. What about my men?” Negan asked. You smiled. 

“Well according to them and you, they’re all Negan. They stay too,” you said, grinning wider as he sneered. “Cheer up, Doll,” you said, giving him the old nickname he used to call you, “nobody is going to die. People are a resource, remember?” 

“What happened to you?” he asked again quietly. You leaned closer, placing your lips at his ear. 

“I stopped taking shit lying down,” you whispered to him. Leaning back, you looked him over again. “You came here to place me and my people under your boot, but it looks like your my bitch now.” 

“(Y/N), please,” he rasped out.

“Face it, baby, you lost,” you said with a sweet smile. “Now,” you said, picking up Lucille and placing her back on your shoulder. “Are you going to kneel for your new Queen?”

Note: What? Ya’ll didn’t think she’d go back to him, did you? 

[andythane]

HOLY WATER CANNOT HELP YOU NOW  I’VE COME TO BURN YOUR KINGDOM DOWN

MAY 19TH, 2021. OUTSIDE OF LAFAYETTE, LOUISIANA. notes & tw: this is literally all just bloody, brutal violence of every kind. andy, along side wes and wyatt, gets revenge on the rogue’s responsible for attacking rowan in february. italics are flashbacks, ps. tw for very graphic murder, lots of blood, violence, gore (eye, specifically), stabbing, decapitation/dismemberment,  tc ahead. please read at your own discretion, it’s a lot.

The first time he kills someone, he’s twenty years old. Four months after he’d been officially patched into the club, reconciled with Rowan, and started this new chapter of his life. He knew what the patch sewn to his cut meant -- He had grown up next to it, had seen his father come home at all hours of the night covered in blood with a smile on his face as he slapped his gun onto the kitchen table and happily declared he needed a beer. That being said, doing it yourself and hearing stories were so comically different it made his head spin. 

Most of the ride, he’s quiet, staring out the window of the Wyatt’s jeep as they drive through the backroads. There’s not much conversation to be had once they’ve gone over the plan, all three men knowing exactly what they’re going to this warehouse for. It’s roughly a two hour car ride, giving Andy enough time to go mentally go over the weapons he’s brought with him -- The gun tucked into his cut, one tucked into the waistband of his pants, one strapped to his ankle; The knife tucked in his boot strap, the other in the sheath of his belt. He’s nothing if not prepared. Andy goes over their placement for the thousandth, unneeded time, thinking through every what if scenario he could find himself in. It’s not often that his paranoid nature actually becomes a benefit. 

They know the layout of the building, where each of them will cover, and the amount of people that will be there -- But he likes to prepare for the worst and the best, knowing from experience that they’re likely going to meet a mixture of both. Andy’s planned and executed this kind of thing enough times to know how to go about it blindfolded. At this point, it’s just like riding a bike. 

He wonders what Wes is thinking, if his mind drifts back to Jace asleep at home, unaware of the violence going on around him; If Wyatt is imagining Iris in her hospital bed three months ago, scared of the oxygen mask strapped to her face. All Andy can think of is Rowan, sobbing in his arms while struggling not to move and potentially injure herself further, tearfully telling him why she hadn’t shown up to dinner.

It’s been a while since he’s found himself in this kind of mindset, having hung up his metaphoric hat when it comes to hitman jobs in the last few years. After his time in prison, Andy knew he had to lay low -- Being on parole, and having a daughter to raise changed his priorities. While the money from his ‘freelancing’ had been nice, he and Rowan had enough saved to last them a lifetime, especially with his cut of the guns the club sold, and her salary. There was no need for it now, not like when they were struggling to pay rent and put Rowan through school. Though, he couldn’t deny the high that came with planning a job was one Andy didn’t know he desperately missed. It used to scare him, how exciting he found this -- The rush that came from a stake out, figuring out each detail all the way down to the small possibility, the thrill of actually pulling his gun and breaking through the door. Now he welcomes it like an old friend. 

He always imagined it would be a fair fight -- Or at least, not like this. Whenever the thought came to mind, he pictured himself wrestling some bond villain looking guy, the two diving for the gun that had been cast aside. It was naive, childish even -- But he didn’t expect that he’d be pointing his gun at someone who couldn’t be much older than him, one who was sobbing through swollen eyes, pleading for his life. His father kept his hand’s firmly planted on the kid’s shoulder’s to keep him from squirming out of the rickety chair, acting like this was a prize for a job well done. This could easily have been me, Andy thinks. Had this job gone wrong, he has no doubt Cronus wouldn’t hesitate to put him into that chair, make an example out of his son. Only, it didn’t. It was nothing short of an absolute success. 

His father says something, but Andy doesn’t hear it. Jason is somewhere in the background cheering him on. Andy’s heart is pounding in his ears, both hands holding tightly to his gun, fighting to conceal the fact that they’re shaking. The gun is pointed directly at the poor kid’s head, Cronus’ steady hands keeping him from getting away from his obvious fate. Andy glances to his father for a moment, the wild look in the man’s surely meant to be read as adrenaline fueled pride. This is Andy’s first job after being patched in, and he had proved himself thus far. Now he just needed to finish this. Andy wishes he had the strength to lift his arms just that much higher, and put a bullet in his father’s head. 

In that moment, he thinks of Rowan; Part of him wishes he hadn’t, based on the way his jaw clenches and his chest constricts -- He doesn’t want her to ever know about the horrible things he’s going to do, the horrible thing he’s about to do. Rowan shouldn’t have to see him for what he really is, what he’ll grow up to be: A monster. The rational part of himself reminds him that she already knows, and she’s still waiting for him at home, ready to pull him into open arms once he passes through the front door. 

He pulls the trigger. 

The kid’s blood splatters across Andy’s face.

They move quietly, each taking different sections of the warehouse. Wes covers the open space where the guns lie, Wyatt takes the small offices turned into ‘bedrooms’, while Andy takes the conference turned war room. He knows this is only a piece of the Rogues puzzle, but it’s a step in the right direction. They don’t plan on leaving anyone behind to tell the others what happened -- The grizzly scene and blood splattered across the walls will paint the picture for them. 

His back remains against the wall, pulling his gun from his cut as he moves quietly, the three men in the conference room too distracted by their own conversation to notice Andy slipped into the dimly lit room. He makes presence known by firing a bullet into one man’s -- His name is Sam, based on the conversation Andy heard before entering -- knee, which creates a flurry of action as everyone tries to dive for the guns on the table. It’s the obvious move, one that Andy had anticipated. His hand reaches for the underside of the table between the four men seconds after his gun first fires, sending the flimsy plastic table over, their guns scattered and out of reach. 

Sam fits one of the descriptions Will gave him, of a shorter, stocky man, blacked out ink covering him aside from a poorly done mermaid tattoo covering his throat. The man across from Sam fits the bill, as well  -- Blonde, long hair, scar across his cheek, entire right arm covered in blacked out tattoos. Jack, Andy’s memory recalls. The man in question tries to make a run for one of the guns, but Andy stops him with a bullet to the stomach. Enough to knock him down, but not enough to immediately kill him. He wants them alive for this, to feel the same terror and pain Rowan did that night. They’re not going to be lucky enough to get a bullet to the head first. 

The third and final man is one Andy recognizes now that he’s face to face. His name is Danny, but he’d been called Tex during his time in the club. (The nickname was stupid then, and it’s stupid now, Andy thinks.) He had his ink blacked out and left town roughly ten years ago after screwing the club over. The surprise reunion is enough to catch Tex off guard, enough that he hesitates, eyes narrowing as he takes in the scene in front of them. Both Sam and Jack bleeding on the floor, the former clutching his leg and screaming to the third to Do something, you fucking idiot. So, he does. The man charges forward, managing to knock Andy to the ground given the fact that he’s got about a hundred pounds on him. 

They struggle as Tex tries to wrestle the gun away from Andy, before it gets thrown to the side in the fight. Punches are thrown on both ends, a ringing settling in Andy’s ears after a particular blow to the side of his head, though it doesn’t deter him. Andy manages to roll them over, holding the other man down with knee pressing down on his throat. Tex claws, scratches, and hits Andy in an attempt to get out from under him, but the cut off of oxygen makes it more difficult. He gets a few good blows in, though -- There’s blood dribbling down Andy’s arms from scratches, bruises that have already begun to form. He doesn’t notice, too focused on keeping the man under him from getting out of his grip. His hands move to hold Tex’s head, Andy’s thumbs digging into the inner corners of his eyes, gouging them as deeply as he can manage. 

He can’t help but wonder if the three men have realized this isn’t about killing them; It’s about watching them suffer. 

The fact that Tyson is still breathing is enough to send Andy into a tailspin. He had hoped the spineless piece of shit had fucked off somewhere, given that he hadn’t made an appearance in his and Rowan’s life in quite some time. Andy’s attempts at optimism always seem to be met with harsh reality, though, one that consistently proves the obvious: It’s childish to try and see the best out of a situation like this. He knows this as he throws the man off his front porch, knowing he has to take care of this problem himself -- Restraining orders and the local cops just aren’t going to cut it. Not when he and Rowan have a fragile six month old daughter sleeping in a crib down the hall.  

His downfall is the fact that he reacts, he doesn’t plan. Andy knows better. The reason he’s been so successful with the club is his commitment to discretion, detail, and planning. He analyzes that night over and over for the next three years from the comfort of his prison cell, imagining how he would have killed Tyson if he had taken the time to do it properly -- Instead of grabbing his baseball bat, and kicking the front door in. He would have made it last longer, Andy decided. Prolong his suffering, before letting him gain a shred of hope that he’d make it out alive — Before finally putting him in the ground. That being said, the satisfaction that comes from the look of pure fear on Tyson’s face the moment he sees Andy come through the door? Unmatched. 

The mental image is one that never fails to bring him a swell of pride. He can still hear the sound of his bat crushing bone, feel the way his heart skipped a beat with each and every hit. It didn’t matter if there was blood flying, covering him in the evidence; The fact that he hadn’t been quiet in his entrance; The sound of distant sirens headed their way, after a loud, shrill scream rang out. All that mattered was crushing Tyson’s skull, ending the iron grip he’s had on Rowan’s life for the better half of a decade. He didn’t care what happened next, as long as his wife and daughter were able to live in a world where Tyson Grant didn’t. 

He only regrets not being able to finish the job that night. 

It occurs to him, as his foot comes stomping down on Sam’s already shot knee, that he hasn’t done anything like this since prison. He’s gone on runs, jobs, the works -- Hell, he even threatened to brain Will in his own home. Everything pales in comparison, though. In prison, they had to be more creative; Breaking bones, cutting off fingers, slitting throats before the guards showed up. It was all quick and dirty, done by hand. There was no choice in the matter -- If he wanted to finish out his sentence, see his wife and daughter, even have a chance of making it to the end of the week at all, Andy had to get rid of the other guy. The protection that came with being a Primordial didn’t go as far as one would hope. There’s a reason they used to refer to him as the Grim Reaper. Years later, and he’s made it clear that he hasn’t lost his touch. 

This man doesn’t want to fucking die, though. The way he keeps clawing at Andy, yelling obscenities between each scream of pain. He makes proclamations about how he’s going to kill Andy, calling him every name in the book as he tries and fails to fight for his life. A hard kick to the head shuts him up for a moment, disorienting him enough before Sam musters up enough energy to stab Andy in the calf, almost successful in knocking him to the floor. Clearly, the man got a last surge of something, accompanied by a knife he hadn’t realized Sam had on him.  This only provokes an annoyed grunt and eye roll from Andy. He stumbles down onto one knee from the surprise of the movement, a stab to the man’s arm with the knife from his boot strap gets Sam to let go. He does, going limp as his knife is stuck in Andy’s calf. It doesn’t stop him from continuing the effort though, within a moment Andy’s on top of his unconscious victim, stabbing him in the chest over and over again like he’s in a cheap horror movie. 

In that moment, he loses himself  -- Something snaps, taking him back to the night he’d gotten a call that Rowan was in the hospital, the way he so desperately pushed down all of the anger and rage that came with knowing she’d been hurt at the hands of these assholes. Everything he’s fought to hold at bay for the sake of his wife, the kids, his sobriety, the club -- It all bubbles to the surface now, when he’s not worrying about keeping the kids safe and Rowan above water. When all there is is this room, and him, and the people that have to pay for the crimes they’ve committed. 

Every emotion he’s expertly avoided, every ounce of it boils over as he stabs the Rogue over and over until they’re both covered in blood. The need for vengeance for what they did, the way they turned Rowan’s life upside down and left her afraid to look over her shoulder; Guilt over the fact that Andy, yet again, couldn’t protect the person he holds so dearly; The power that comes with knowing these men are at his mercy, ready to beg for their lives in a last ditch effort to survive what’s coming next. It all hits him like a freight train, leaving him a little dizzy. Though, that may be from the hits he’s taken himself, blood he’s lost -- Andy doesn’t take the time to find out. Instead, he comes to once he realizes the man under him is long dead, having succumbed to the injuries inflicted after the first few stabs. 

The revelation stuns Andy momentarily, as he tries to catch his breath. If there was any witness to this, they’d see how frenzied the moment had become, that there was far more pent of emotion attached to this than Andy initially realized. Eyes glance to the two men left -- Tex, having passed out, and Jack slumped against a wall trying to stay conscious, a string of profanities passing his lips in a hoarse voice. His attention turns to his hands after that, steady but covered in a mixture of Sam’s blood and his own. A blood soaked piece of hair falls forward and onto his cheek as Andy wipes his hands off on his shirt, a wave of frustration running through him. Of fucking course he’d get blood in his hair, and now -- More on his face. He makes a mental note to book an appointment for a haircut. 

They cut the man’s fingers off one by one, moving slowly and deliberately. The man in question, Gerald, is tied to a chair in the kitchen of the prison, thanks to a guard that’s on the MC’s payroll. No one is going to give a second thought to the sound of muffled screams or a hacksaw from the locked up tool shed going missing for the night. Andy’s only been out of the hospital for a day at this point -- The guy he’s torturing, having been responsible for his brush with near-death.  Gerald felt bold enough to go after Andy with a homemade shank, trying to get even for some issue he held with Cronus. It was laughable to him, considering Andy hated his father just as much as this sorry bastard.

Andy had hoped to make it through his sentence by keeping his head down (for the most part, at least) doing what he needed, sticking with the right crowd -- Club members who were serving life sentences. His name gained him respect, plenty of other inmates happy to keep an eye on Cronus’ boy, but the revenge he’s getting tonight is what gains him his reputation. He becomes the go-to for these kinds of things, the one his fellow club members call on to take care of problems they have behind bars. Rowan’s words ring in his head -- Do what you have to do to stay alive. Come back to me. Playing executioner for the club wasn’t his first choice, but if it’s what kept him safe and gets him home, so fucking be it. Plus, killing the man who had tried to murder him in the showers brought Andy plenty of satisfaction. What kind of person would he be if he let some jaded idiot get away with almost killing him, right?

First the fingers, then his hands, and so on and so forth -- Dismemberment isn’t something new, Andy himself has had to cut up a few bodies so they can get rid of the evidence before. Though, typically speaking, the person isn’t still alive as they do it. Watching this guy suffer was just icing on the cake. Each time Gerald passes out, they cauterize the wound and pull out the smelling salts to give him a fake sense of safety -- That now they’re done, eye for an eye, the message is sent. Only each time he’s lulled into a half-dazed security, they stuff the rag back in his mouth and cut off another limb. It was going to be a long night.

He finds himself with a moment where he can tend to the wound he’s gotten — It's not a particularly deep stab, but it hurts like a bitch and that stupid knife looks fucking dull once he pulls it out and can actually get a good look at it. Not wasting anytime, and to  make sure he doesn’t lose too much blood, Andy works quickly. The last thing he needs is to pass out and run the risk of getting himself killed, or having to have Wes haul him out over his shoulder. He has to get creative for now, knowing they can’t exactly make a pit stop at the ER on the way back and he doesn’t want to call Rowan after, given the fact that they’re bringing one of the Rogues back with them to get information out of -- So he moves to rip off part of Sam’s torn pant leg so that he can get pressure on the wound. Using a piece of folded up denim, he holds it against his injury, tying a piece tightly around his calf to keep it in place. It’s not great, but it’ll do for now, until he can get to a proper first aid kit. Andy can practically hear Rowan in the back of his head, scolding him for getting hurt in the first place. Once she knows the context, he’d imagine she probably wouldn’t think much of the injury after. 

The sound of Tex’s screams pulled his attention, the man having regained consciousness and begun to panic -- The knee jerk reaction from Andy is to pull his gun back out, silencing Tex with a bullet to the chest. Andy unloads the rest of his clip into the man as he approaches, finding himself feeling lighter and lighter with each shot, despite the fact that he’s now limping. An unbearable amount of helplessness has weighed on him the last six months — Like all he can do is watch these terrible things happen from the sidelines, only able to help tend to the aftermath rather than keep his loved ones safe. What has left him lying awake at night as been the feeling that he’s constantly one step behind, always a minute too late — Whether it’s the shipment getting hijacked and Blake getting to him hours later, homes being burned down while he’s shooting up a warehouse, his own wife lying beaten and bloody in the middle of the street while he sits at a restaurant waiting for her. One thing after the other.

It’s unclear what kind of man it makes him to take such pleasure in revenge -- That he isn’t haunted at night by the people he’s killed or the homes he’s wrecked for the right amount of cash. Maybe it’s proof that he really is his father’s son, or that he’s just as heartless as people believe him to be. Andy’s not sure if it matters much at this point. The idea of knowing he is sending these assholes to an early grave gives him a sense of peace he hasn’t felt in a long time, one he wasn’t sure he’d ever know again after Valentine’s Day. This isn’t the end of the Rogues, but it’s retribution for what they’ve done, bringing him more clarity than ever before. Anyone who hurts the people he loves deserves to die screaming. 

Confusion finds him when the sound of a gun firing fills his ears with a familiar ringing, a bullet hitting the dead man on the ground in front of him rather than its intended target. Andy follows the direction it came from to find a wild eyed Jack, having managed to pull himself across the floor in a bloody heap, far enough to get to a gun, clearly struggling to hold himself up right even while propped against the turned over table. He had the element of surprise on his side, but Andy has the benefit of not having been shot in the stomach -- So he moves quickly across the small room, easily smacking the gun out of the man’s hand. It’s clear Jack is running on pure adrenaline and spite, though now that he got his one shot in, it’s running out. Fists colliding with the man’s jaw only speed up the process, though before he finally gives up and slumps over to side and lands on the floor -- He spits blood back at Andy, clearly trying to get in one last fuck you before he dies. Jack doesn’t get much of a reaction out of Andy, instead he stands up fully, giving the half-conscious man a good look before the heel of his boot meets his head over and over until he is long dead and unrecognizable. 

[toomanyf4ndoms7]

Mortal Kombat Invasion: Battle for Earthrealm: Sonya Vs Kano

Summary: On the bank rooftop, two rivals meet once more.

Okay, I may have been too hasty.

When Sonya ran up the stairs to find the red light that she assumed was Kano, she found herself on the Bank Rooftop alone. No Kano, just the giant Tower that seemed close yet far off in the distance.

Sonya sighed. Though she neglected to mention it among her allies, she had her own doubts. She was a soldier, and as damn good of one she was, this was another story.

“How am I supposed to deal with this?”

Suddenly she heard a familiar voice.

“Don’t worry love, you won’t have to.”

Sonya swerved just in time to dodge Kano’s trademark knife swung towards her throat. She took her fighting stance as Kano walked out of the shadows.

“I’d say you’re getting sloppy, but that’d imply I had any respect for you in the first place.”

Kano still wore the same sleazy grin as always along with the metal plate over his red bionic eye, but his head was now shaved bald and wore a sleeveless red and black tunic, a pair of shiny black tights with red seams, and black boots with his trademark knives strapped to the back of his shins.

“Aw, don’t be like that. Don’t you want to know what I’ve been doing?”

Sonya’s face was stone as she gave her response.

“No.”

Kano gave a shrug, cracking his neck and loosening his shoulders.

“Fair enough, let’s get to the fun.”

Kano lunged at Sonya with a fierce hook, finding it blocked and countered by a sweep to his legs.

She didn’t have long to rest as Kano took a knife from its holster and swung it at her legs. Sonya jumped back and avoided any major damage beyond a slash wound across her left thigh.

As Sonya hissed in pain, Kano grabbed her by the shoulders and head butted her with his metal plate, trying to regain her balance.

As soon as she regained her control, Sonya countered Kano’s strikes and twisted his arm behind his back, taking a satisfied grin as he cried out in pain. She kicked him away and was about to knock him out before Kano suddenly stabbed her deep in the leg, grabbed her again, and tossed her into one of the stone gargoyles lining the roof.

The force of the throw caused cracks along the gargoyle and sharp pain to Sonya’s back. Kano gave a satisfied chuckle as he pulled out his knife and walked towards her.

Sonya groaned as she tried to get back on her feet, only causing herself more pain, before speaking through gritted teeth.

“Fine, you win. Just make it quick.”

Kano grabbed a lock of Sonya’s hair, hoisting her head up in the process to meet his. He mocked her with his sadistic grin.

“Now ain’t this a surprise. Brave Miss Blade, surrendering. I don’t think Danny boy would be too happy about that.”

The knife edged closer.

“But, what the hell. Let’s make you smile ear to ear.”

As Kano prepared to drag the knife across Sonya’s face, he was unaware of what would come next.

“Wait.”

Kano looked irritated, overlooking Sonya emptying a pocket of pink dust into her hand.

“How about a funeral gift?”

As Kano stared in confusion, Sonya suddenly blew the pink dust into Kano’s face, blinding him for a moment. In his struggle to regain his sight, Kano tore off a lock of Sonya’s hair.

Sonya had bigger things to deal with than the missing lock, as she did a handstand and grabbed Kano with her feet., tossing him off the rooftop. Sonya watched Kano fall from the rooftop, hearing a satisfying sound of something hitting the ground.

“That was for you, Daniel.”

“SONYA!”

Sonya turned to see Jax, Kabal, and Stryker at the stairway. Seeing the knife in her leg, Jax rushed over to help.

“What happened?, he questioned as he wrapped his hand around the blades handle.

“Kano ambushed me. Almost had me before I-

Jax took the knife out of Sonya’s leg, causing her to groan in pain as Jax wrapped the wound in bandages. She glared at her superior.

“You couldn’t have given a warning?”

“I remember when you scraped your knee and refused to admit it, so you tell me.”

Rolling her eyes at the memory, Sonya continued.

“Anyway, I tossed him off the building and saw him hit the floor. He’s gone.”

“Good riddance.”

Sonya got back on her feet, supported by Jax as the four made their way back down to continue their journey.

Despite the pain in her left leg, Sonya felt satisfied. After all this time, Kano was gone.

[itwillbeall-dwight]

trials in error

danny "jed olsen" johnson | the ghost face/felix richter; fluff and angst; canon-typical violence; enemies to fwb to lovers to enemies lmao; 5677 words

a/n: did i finish two fics in the same day? yes i did. i’ve had this done since one in the morning but didn’t want to post it them bc no one would see it by the time it was flushed out of the tag bc tumblr hates fic writers for real actually.

my friend booker is to blame for this. they mentioned this pair to me offhandedly but then i turned around and made this, and basically learned 2 things. 1) writing danny is fun, and 2) i have. a lot of feelings. about them.

while i have a couple of long pieces to finish, requests are still open, so if you liked this and would like smthn written, feel free to shoot me an ask!

likes < reblogs, any comments in the tags are appreciated

ao3 mirror in the reblogs!

Preview: “Tell you what.” He folded his arms over the top of the generator, looking the man in the face as he rested the side of his head against his forearm. “You’re still a noob, and I can’t be having anything fun with that. I’ll give you, hm… 10 seconds to run and hide, phone a friend, you know… not die, but after that, you’re all mine. Sound good?” The blonde remained silent, blinking at him in bewilderment. That was as good of an answer as any. “Alright. 10-” “Ah, wait, but what about-” “-9-” He didn’t say anything after that, dropping the wires in his hands and taking off into a sprint, stumbling as he stood to his full height - and oh boy, was he a tall guy - and turned a corner of old cars. Danny chuckled, standing up to rest his ass against the side of the gen, flipping his knife in his hand as he kept counting down. “8… 7… 6-5-4-3-2-1- ok, here we go.”

Another day, another trial. As the fog cleared from his vision, the Ghostface flipped his small knife in his hand, feeling the silent breeze whistle through the tendrils on his uniform. The Autohaven Wreckers was as sorry of a sight as it always was, but one that he’d grown quite accustomed to use as his playground. From the sight of the old garage, he could almost pick out memories of all the times he’d scared the pants off of the poor survivors, which he took more than enough pleasure in doing. Danny looked around, still absently flipping his knife in his hand as he formulated a plan, taking a brief moment to watch the ever-present moonlight glint off of the freshly cleaned blade before he looked up once more, a slow grin forming behind the mask as the game began.

 Poor Meg thought he was stupid, thinking she’d lost him at a simple enough loop around a pile of tires, all up until he pulled her off of her generator with a cackle (“screw you, creep” she said as she slammed her fists into the back of his shoulder - changed her tune real quick after he slid a hook into hers). Nea didn’t hesitate in giving him the runaround, powering a generator in his face and slamming a locker door into him for good measure. Danny knew the girl would throw a palette at him if she had the chance - she was the most fun to play with. But he soon lost her, so soon after catching her, but it was that detective asshole that ruined their fun, as he’d shone a damn flashlight in his eyes while he had Nea on his shoulder, finally, enough for her to wiggle free and run off again. And by the time his vision had cleared, the both of them had gone. Danny growled - as much as he enjoyed fun, it was only when he was winning was it any good.

 It was while he was stalking around the battered old killer shack looking for the bastard that he saw him for the first time. Blonde hair, broad shoulders, and a fancy suit that just screamed rich, with a touch of “please tear me off or splatter me in blood, both sound great”. A man he didn’t recognize, sat on a generator, eyes darting around as he worked the best he could with shaking hands, clearly on edge about being left on his own to work. Whatever annoyance he had in him melted like hot wax, as he approached, slowly, knowing this guy would be a wonderful victim to mess with. The killer’s fingers curled around the edge of the wall as he watched the man, the way he swallowed and sighed, muttering to himself in reassurance in a tongue that sounded familiar to him, too quiet to tell. The generator got louder and louder, its mechanisms and inner parts in tune as the man worked his magic, almost letting himself smile in triumph as he grabbed another wire.

“Hey there, handsome.”

A voice from behind his neck, raspy and deep, caused him to jump, a spark sending the generator into smoke as he turned, face going white as he pushed his back against the wall.

Oh, he was right. He was going to be fun, all right. Danny chuckled. “Oh, sorry. Did I scare you? Tend to do that. It’s in my… nature.”

The man swallowed, glancing around for any kind of help, seeming to find none as his attention turned back to the killed, speaking in a low, rich voice, though it shook from fear. “Don’t you have… things, to be stabbing?”

“Why, is that an invitation?” He laughed again, leaning up against the generator and crossing one leg over the other. “Nah, I’m just kiddin’. Ain’t it enough to get to know the new neighbours? Haven’t seen you around before, pretty boy. They smuggled you in, huh?”

“I… suppose.”

He hummed, tapping the blade of his knife against the metal of his knife, the clanging making the survivor jump. Oh, bless him - well and truly, it was a mistake for him to get caught up here… but a happy mistake, to be sure. “Got a name?”

“Huh?”

“Like I said, I like to know the neighbours, ya know… real close and personal. A preference. Bit of normalcy. Soooo…”

He remained silent. So he was a little bit smarter than what he’d look like, from the way he was shaking in his rich white boots. Impressive.

“Tell you what.” He folded his arms over the top of the generator, looking the man in the face as he rested the side of his head against his forearm. “You’re still a noob, and I can’t be having anything fun with that. I’ll give you, hm… 10 seconds to run and hide, phone a friend, you know… not die, but after that, you’re all mine. Sound good?”

The blonde remained silent, blinking at him in bewilderment. That was as good of an answer as any. 

“Alright. 10-”

“Ah, wait, but what about-”

“-9-”

He didn’t say anything after that, dropping the wires in his hands and taking off into a sprint, stumbling as he stood to his full height - and oh boy, was he a tall guy - and turned a corner of old cars.

Danny chuckled, standing up to rest his ass against the side of the gen, flipping his knife in his hand as he kept counting down. “8… 7… 6-5-4-3-2-1- ok, here we go.”

 Curious as it was, he lost the blonde beauty soon after he let him go, instead finding Meg oddly open about where she was, spriting right into his vision. Not that he was complaining; a game was a game, and if the runner decided that she wanted to play tag, then who was he to turn her down? Especially when she was so easy to catch… though as soon as she was hooked, flashlight clicking and Swedish profanities in his ear was enough to make him chase after Nea rather than go after his original chase once again… they were painting a target on their back, and for what? To save the new guy’s skin? He wasn’t an idiot. Just surprised that some of them had the compassion.

 Well, they managed to get another generator done, but the two girls were dead, and a soon injured Tapp was surely soon to follow them. A means to an end, it seemed, as his knife plunged into the detective’s side and sent him crashing into the dirt with a grunt of pain, rolling over onto his back with one eye open, the other wincing in pain, the shadow of the killer cast over him in the moonlight as he wiped his blade.

“OK, Detective, we’ll make this real nice and simple.” He crouched down next to the survivor, taking note of how the blood pooled around him as he laid on his back, staring up at him. “Tell me where your new friend is hiding, and I’ll let you live.”

Silence.

“C’mon, it’s not that hard of a choice to make. I’ve heard getting sacrificed is long and painful, like your insides are getting ripped at over and over again until, poof, you’re back again, at that cozy little campfire, only a little bit more traumatised to show for it. Now, you want that to happen to only one of you, or both of you, hm?”

Tapp looked away, seeming to ponder the possibility.

“Self-preservation instincts, Detective. I know you have them.” He tapped his knife into the dirt. Humans were fickle beings, easily swayed when their life was on the line.

The detective sighed, chest shaking from the strain. “Fine. I know where he’s hiding. But I can’t… breathe right, with a knife in my chest, so come a little closer.”

Danny blinked, but surely he didn’t have any more tricks up his sleeve, so he did as he was told, for once in his life, letting his mask get inches away. “Yes?”

A moment of silence, before there was a whisper in reply, backed by the assurance of an idiot who knew he was going to die regardless, as he spat blood pooling in his mouth onto the mask of the ghost almost pressed against his own. “Go fuck yourself.”

He was almost stunned at the bravado, leaning away with a chuckle, though he gritted his teeth through it. “Oh, you’re a funny man. Absolutely hilarious, you know that?” But still, that was as good of an affirmation of choice as he was going to get from someone so stubborn, so Danny grabbed him by the front of his vest and hoisted him up onto his shoulder.

 The screaming echoed as the heavens opened up, the Entity surely pleased with her feast for the evening, but he still wasn’t done… oh no, far from it. There was still one more handsome devil to track down. Danny rolled his neck, grinning at the gentle cracks from the strain, strolling more than hunting, at this point, for the well-kept survivor he didn’t know the name of, but was practically dying to know. He almost skipped up the crane, looking out of the window as Rapunzel did out of her tower window, before chuckling to himself and hoisting himself out. Danny tapped his blade against his hand, almost going to begin whistling if not for the angelic cries coming from the hill just close by. A grin overtook him, as he chased the calls of cherubs from the ground below.

 He slammed that hatch shut with a satisfied sigh, throwing his knife between his hands as he looked around and arched his neck for the doors. Normally the whelps would just give up at this point, but the guy was new, and probably didn’t know what was best for him. Still, the doors were easily within view, so if he made it out of this alive… well, he wouldn’t, so no promise needed to be made. The killer chuckled to himself, finally settling on wrapping his fingers around the handle of his blade, curling one by one, slowly and deliberately for no one in particular, before setting off to take part in the real game that had begun.

 He had no idea how he did it. Perhaps Danny had become too complacent in his work. But that handsome devil slipped past him more than once, enough for him to open up a gate and tiptoe his nice ass into certain safety. The survivor stared at him from inside the gate as he walked past in bewilderment, shaking like a dog in the rain that was just waiting to be gutted, battered old medkit in hand. And while he was stunned, the man swallowed, nodded, and left the trial head high, descending back into the fog as it began to consume the old gas station, leaving Danny to stare into darkness, barely blinking.

 Well, that was interesting, wasn’t it?

—

His name was Felix, he’d learned from the pig in the meat plant, having overheard it while she watched him blow the generator out by accident and got cursed out by the familiar bane-of-their-existence Swede. German, from the way he’d spoken to Danny by the generator in their first encounter, high up on the social ladder from the way he dressed (unless he’d gotten all dressed up just to see him? Funny, that would be, but very unlikely), shaken by the fog and with a disposition not unlike a lost dog. 

 And yet, despite his nerves and cluelessness to the fog, he always seemed to escape him. He didn’t know how he did it, but from finding hatch to evading the hooks, Felix somehow managed to keep him on his toes. Trials were somehow more exciting, knowing there was a challenge, and a chance to catch he who refused to be caught. Danny knew he was going to revel in the moment, when it eventually came - there was no way someone could be better than him, when he was so in his element.

So, after not seeing the man for the entire trial while hunting through the streets of Badham, catching him at the gate seemed like a dream come true. And he was none the wiser, as Danny quickly slammed his hand against the wall next to the lever, making him jump and freeze, pulling his hand away, two bright lights reflecting onto his face. “And so we meet again.”

“S-so we do.” He ran a hand through his hair before it found a place at the back of his neck, quietly taking a few steps back.

“Aht, aht. I wouldn’t run. I’ll just find you again anyways.”

He stopped. 

“...You know, I don’t quite know how you do it. It’s like you’re avoiding me on purpose.”

“That is… the point, is it not?”

“Oh, how rude- people come here to see me, surely. I’m a spectacle; call me a master at my craft.”

Felix chuckled - god, he chuckled, though it was riddled with nerves, but it most certainly happened, and sounded great - fiddling with the cufflinks on the sleeves of his suit jacket as his back straightened a little, as if flicking a switch to go from sorry sight to professional businessman. “Well, I… don’t suppose you’d be willing to show me why?”

He blinked. “Are you… flirting with me?”

“Am I?”

Danny wasn’t sure if the question was rhetorical or not, from the way he stood beside the lever at the gate, leaning a shoulder against the brick and folding his arms across his strong, broad chest (the way his shirt was unbuttoned just so was something Danny now noticed, and couldn’t stop noticing, barely tearing his eyes away to meet his gaze again) with an almost expectant look. “You’re... a weird one.”

“I… suppose so. Anyone normal would have ignored you and already run for their lives.”

The killer chuckled. “You’re not… entirely wrong. But I gotta say, I do like that. Among… other things.”

Though his eyes weren’t visible, it was as if the survivor knew exactly where he was looking, coughing and covering his mouth with the side of his fist. How cute was that?

He almost couldn’t contain himself. But he managed, somehow, not sure where this whole thing was going, but more than ready to go along for the ride. “Say… how far are you willing to ask that question, anyway? You really wanna know that bad, huh?”

Felix swallowed, closing his eyes for a moment before looking up again, with his piercing blue gaze, lips parting just so into a coy little smile. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

Danny had never thought a man of such sophistication was willing to whore himself out for freedom, but sure enough, he himself opened the gate to let the German go, almost sad to see him leave (though it wouldn’t be for long), but very much enjoying the view.

 He paused. He was supposed to catch him and kill him, wasn’t he? Danny frowned, somewhat troubled, but tried to justify it as returning to old habits in Roseville, as he left the gate, and waited for the fog to consume him again, taking a seat just outside the battered old preschool.

—

It was like the attraction of magnets with twice the force as soon as they saw each other, wasting no time as suddenly Felix’s back was slammed into a tree, a loose and cold gloved hand finding its way up his shirt, sending a shiver up his spine for another reason as he felt lips hit his, with a hunger and desperation he was not expecting but certainly didn’t mind reciprocating, as Danny soon found out. And he wasn’t complaining; he was damn good, for a man with the disposition of a 40-year-old virgin, moving his hands to Danny’s wrist and placing his hand on his waist, which again, he did not mind at all, while the other was still halfway up his shirt. Let the man take the lead, at least for now, because it’s the only chance he’ll get to.

 Danny chuckled as a hand moved to grab his ass - quite the eager beaver, wasn’t he? He was practically purring as he pulled away, the survivor trying to follow him before reeling back as he moved to kissing up the side of his neck, listening close to the adorable little whimpers that came out of him as he squirmed in his grip. The killer then went to move his hand out from under Felix’s shirt, finally, casually undoing the buttons of his waistcoat and shirt one by one, taking the time to walk down his chest with his fingers and feel the shaking breaths of anticipation under his fingertips. Oh, the things he wanted to do-

 Distant voices were enough to make the survivor crack open an eye, pausing before he began to push the killer’s head off of his neck.

“Hey, hey,” Danny didn’t appreciate the interruption, moving to look up as Felix looked around, like a startled animal, though he still purred in the crudest fashion. “C’mon, buddy, I was just getting started.”

“Quiet.” His voice was low and commanding, still shaking from adrenaline.

And for whatever reason, Danny complied.

He swallowed, listening to the silence of the wind in the barrens of the fog-covered forest and there was another distant call, which upon hearing he began trying to wiggle out of the killer’s grip. “Off.”

“Why?”

“They’re looking for me-”

“And you don’t wanna be seen with me?” He gave a mock gasp of offence, though the grin that was slowly growing larger still remained on his face.“Oh, honey-”

“That’s exactly it. Move, please.”

That was enough to make Danny chuckle, squeezing his hips that he still held, enough to make him yelp a little. “Still so polite. If you want me to do somethin’, hon, you gotta be a little more, ah... demanding, yeah?”

Felix glared. “Alright. Get off. Now.” His voice had an annoyed growl to it, though his voice still cracked a little out of embarrassment, as he pushed down on Danny’s arms to let himself go.

“There it is.” And so he moved, standing back and sliding his hands into the pockets of his cloak. He watched the architect fiddle with the buttons on his shirt to redo them again, rushing to do so and messing it up a few times, mumbling to himself. “Need help?”

He glared again. 

Danny laughed, observing how he looked like a kicked puppy as he went back to fiddling with his shirt, pulling down his own mask again to hide what little of his face he had revealed. “You know, I think you’d look much better with it off.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, that’s not what you were saying with your eyes earlier-”

“You were a lot more tolerable when you were quiet.”

“‘Cos I never had a chance to speak, what, with you all over my mouth.” He shrugged as he spoke, as if it was a nonchalant fact, only smiling wider when he heard Felix try to stammer out a flustered reply, to no avail, choosing instead to simply huff and finish off the buttons on his shirt.

“Regardless, this affair is over.”

“Wait, hold on.”

“What?”

The killer moved his hands up to Felix’s neck, watching the man flinch and hold a breath with a soft chuckle, gently undoing a few of the top buttons that he’d redone. “You normally wear it like this.”

He gently touched at his collar, looking down at his fingers and then to the mask starring back at him. “And you’ve noticed?”

“Hard not to.” He shrugged, tugging at the shirt collar and going to fix up the waistcoat too before his hands were slapped away, which he held up in defence with a grin behind his mask. “So when are we doing this again, sunshine?”

The survivor moved away before he could’ve boxed in against the tree again, taking a few steps towards the direction of the campfire and the voices, though not too far as to disengage from the conversation, perhaps a little unsure how to. “You speak like this will be a regular affair.”

“Well, we had fun, ja?” 

“...Are you mocking me?”

“Not mocking, just… appreciating the culture.”

Felix started, smoothing down the arms of his suit jacket with a light scoff of disbelief. “Truly, you’re insufferable.”

“Can't say you didn’t enjoy yourself though, huh, mein Schatz?” He leaned his shoulder against the tree now, folding his arms across his chest, earning him a weak-hearted glare.

“Werde gefickt.”

“Gerne.”

Being outplayed in his own game of native tongues, somehow, Felix conceded, looking down at his cufflinks again. “You’re… not entirely wrong, so ...perhaps a name, so I can find you.”

“Oh, so now you want to know me? What happened to a one-time affair, sugar?” 

“When you’re so easy to please, I would be an idiot not to take advantage.”

Danny laughed, shrugging with no retort (though he was uncertain if hitting this pretty boy like a fish was just as good as getting in his pants… that much was yet to be determined). He soon trailed off, swallowing to himself, a lie escaping him as effortlessly as it had always done. “Jed Olsen.”

“Mr. Olsen…” Felix pondered for a moment. “...Ja, OK.”

—

So they’d been fooling around, yeah. Danny had always said he was willing to try it, should an idiot be brave enough, and if it was someone that wasn’t either Ace or David - he was a man with some standards, even with the blood on his hands - but never had he thought about it getting this far.

 The sun never rose or set, but people slept and woke as time passed, regardless of the light outside, and that was no exception here. If anything, it was the cold chill of Ormond that awoke him from sleep, though he’d grown complacent in it, realising the teens that called this shithole a home would probably evict him if he so much as dared to complain. Danny still grumbled, attempting to pull the scraps of the blanket over himself, but finding it unable to move. Turning over, he now heard the sound of gentle snoring, the body, next to him sometimes shuffling, but remained mostly motionless, aside from the movements of breathing from his chest. His latest fling, almost his newest obsession… god, he still looked perfect, even now, golden locks of hair falling out of form, the lighting of the shitty little cabin not enough to hide that perfect jawline tickled with stubble in all the right places, red marks down his neck and back from an encounter that had lead them right here, in the bed he was practically renting in the corner of the resort.

 They’d gotten a little adventurous, hadn't they? Banter in the trials was one thing, borderline voyeurism in the entity’s forest was another, but here? Letting himself be taken back to the realms to stay, where killers were not technically bound by rules of obedience, with Danny of all killers, a man who loved to bend the rules? Felix Richter was a smart man, that much he knew, but by god was he stupid. Maybe he thought there was a good man still in there, in the Ghostface. Well, that was his mistake; it was almost cute for him to still hold out hope though, regardless of how much disappointment was awaiting him down the road. Danny gently ran fingertips along the sleeping man’s arm, feeling the soft skin underneath his touch, smiling despite himself, only pausing at the gentle stirring he caused, practically freezing with his hand in the air as the architect moved, and slowly opened his eyes, sleepily smiling.

“Good morning.”

“...Hi,” he released a breath he didn’t know he was holding, letting his hand fall into the space between them. “Hardly mornin’, but sure.”

“Close enough.”

“Sure.”

There was a soft, amused hum from the other man, adjusting his position a little to better face him, hair falling out of place just so, like some disheveled Ken doll. “I would ask if you slept well, but-”

“Oh, very well, thanks to you. Really outdid yourself this time; I gotta say, that was almost the most fun I’ve had since I got here… or maybe even before-”

A light shove to his chest made him stop and laugh a little, feeling the slight coldness of metal from a family ring against one pec, and almost wanting the light touch of his hand to remain there, before it hit the mattress with a thump, dangerously close to Danny’s. “You’re a funny one, Mr. Olsen.”

He sat up, resting an elbow on the stained old pillow and holding his cheek with the corresponding hand, raising an eyebrow. “Thought you liked me better when I was quieter?”

Felix stared at him with those perfect eyes of his, and he laughed - like audible silk it was, smooth and defined, with a sleepy smile and everything - adjusting himself with a hand under his pillow. “Sometimes. Sometimes I like to hear you.”

“Glad to hear it. I’ve been told it’s my best quality.”

“Hmm. Is it how you make jokes to deflect, or how you talk out of your ass?”

“...Well, hey now, Princess, ouch-”

As he tried to defend himself, the survivor smirked, somehow braver here than anywhere else (and it wasn’t his persona), quipping back to match him, and as he was talking, Danny paused, watching the way his eyes diverted and how his mouth moved, how he talked with his body and the way he smiled and waiting for a small hum in response, and how Danny liked the way his name sounded coming from his mouth, even if it wasn’t entirely the true one. Almost made him wonder what the real thing would sound like… no, that was too much, right? Couldn’t get attached. He wasn’t attached, was he?

 Couldn’t hurt to wait a little more to think on that, before escorting this pretty little thing back to the campfire.

—

So he was thinking about Felix a lot more than was normal for an obsession of his. What started off as a vengeful curiosity had morphed into something else, something so ugly yet so beautiful, foreign to Danny in recent years, or perhaps his entire life. Was this how high school girls felt, chasing after the jocks for a chance to get them off, and maybe start a high school whirlwind romance? Well, he certainly wasn’t a prepubescent cheerleader, but the survivor that had caught his attention seemed just like the squeaky clean Prince Charming that girls drooled over.

 And he couldn’t have that. Not at all.

 The fog cleared out of his vision slowly, and he opened his eyes, almost rolling them as the field of corn came into view. Coldwind - the rotten fields, it looked like, from the wide expanse of produce hiding his vision. Despite the cards not being in his favour, a game could still be played here, if he played his hand, carefully. And he was planning to. He’d let himself get distracted. But not again.

 Getting back into the routine of the hunt was like sliding into a comfortable sweater, blood shedding with no tear from him. Laurie was always a thrilling chase, her determination being almost cute. Quentin was similar, though the boy with insomnia had a lot less appeal than the virgin final girl, to be sure. David, of course, was David - loud, frustrating to deal with, and incredibly annoying. And… Felix. He knew how he felt about Felix already.

 As well as he tried to play it, this time, the game was not in his favour, and quite quickly generators across the field were powered, with only a few hooks under his belt. Getting to a gate, it was already beginning to open, three of them already filing into the funnel of the exit. But Felix, he was lagging behind, and without thinking, Danny took a swipe...

 ...No one escaped death. Not even the man he may have fallen for.

 As he wiped the blood from his blade with a gloved hand closed around it, he watched the architect grasp at his side and stumble, leaning a shoulder up against a wooden wall for support.

“Go.” He called to the woman in the blue shirt, standing at the gate.

“Felix, we can’t-”

“I said go, Laurie!”

She gritted her teeth and went to ignore him, running back into the cornfield, but a grip and pull on her arm from David stopped her, as much as she tried to fight against it. Quentin was the last to leave, watching the two of them for a moment before he swallowed, and chased after them, a medkit in hand.

 “Alone time, eh? Hon, we’re on a time limit here-”

“Just get it done.”

Danny tried to laugh. But it didn’t… feel right, somehow, even if it was the same as it always had been. As Felix leaned against a wall to support himself and slid down, knees buckling underneath him, he crouched down to meet him. “I dunno… no fun when they don’t squirm, you know?”

“...Jed-”

“Danny.”

He paused. “What?”

“It’s Danny Johnson. My name, I mean. I lied, when we first met. ...Surprise!” Knife still gripped, he tried to do a small jazz hands movement, though it seemed a fall flat. Only hurt more with what came next.

“...I figured as much.”

“Oh yeah? And why’d you set yourself up for failure like that, sunshine?”

“Because… I don’t know. I thought you were like me.”

The killer deflated a little, tilting his head to one side.

“I… maybe, I thought you were playing something up. I always felt… something else, there. Maybe something even you didn’t know about. Under all that ego, Mr Ol- ...Mr. Johnson, there was a man who cared, once.”

He tapped the blade of his knife against the floor. “...Maybe. I dunno.”

“Do you think he’s still in there?”

Danny didn’t reply right away, dragging his blade through the dirt by his feet absentmindedly. He didn’t entirely know, at this point. Normally this would have been the end of their little game - it was over, he had caught him and won - but something was stopping him. The ground shook, reminding him of that first moment where this fascination had started to plague him. “...You’ve done something to me, Felix.”

He hummed, trying to shift where he sat, holding his side where the blood had stained his very nice suit. “Have I?”

“Must have done. Because this isn’t as fun as I thought it would be.”

“That’s the reality of most things, I’m afraid.”

“I hate it.”

The survivor almost laughed, though it was pained and strained, clearly struggling… but was the sliver of it that made it, that small smile on his stupid, perfect face - that was enough, it seemed, to make Danny smile too.

He pulled up his mask entirely, tugging down his hood and fixing his hair with a quick ruffle, feeling the cloth tendrils on his sleeves whip behind him from the movement. The killer took a second to stare at Felix in front of him, before he moved his hand up to his face, watching him flinch. “Hey- relax, baby, I’m not gonna hurt you yet.”

“Yet.”

Danny hummed, cupping his face and wiping away the blood starting to dribble out of his mouth with a finger. “There. You’re a messy little boy, aint’cha?”

A cough, more blood involuntarily spilling out from his mouth now, this time splashing onto his shirt and the front of Danny’s suit. “My apologies. I’ll make sure to bleed less next time you stab me.”

“‘Ppreciate it, babes.”

Though he thought the man would shove him away, he instead seemed to lean into the touch, moving a hand to hold onto Danny’s wrist. “You still smell like cheap cologne.”

“It’s the only thing they sent me here with. ‘Sides, your scent goes away after a while.”

“Gross.”

“The one and only.”

And despite his small smile, of both annoyance and amusement, the third overwhelming emotion behind his eyes was that of sadness. The ground shook around them, but they didn’t seem to care, not until Danny moved his hand away and stood to his feet again, grabbing his knife from the floor and wiping the dirt off of the blade on his thigh.

 “Is this it, then?”

“‘Fraid so.”

“...It was fun.”

“Oh yes, it was.” He looked down at his knife, pressing the tip of the blade against his finger and twisting it, the moonlight and bleeding of the ground catching the light of the metal. “...For what it’s worth? You were close.”

“Close to what?”

“Makin’ me a person. Ya know, not a prick, like… an actual loser, with empathy. Almost had me for a sec, hot stuff.”

“Is that why you’re stopping this? Are you scared?”

Danny swallowed down a reply. He took a moment to look down at Felix, who’s eyes had followed him the entire time, making a small ‘call me’ sign with his free hand and forcing a smirk. “If you ever decide you wanna make a mistake again, you’ll know where to find me.”

“...Goodbye, Danny.”

He walked off into the corn, not wanting to see the way those blue eyes stared at him anymore, only stopping at the pained screaming that followed. The shaking of the ground had stopped now. She had come to feast.

 As he stood in the middle of cornfield, he looked up at the sky of the farm, overcast and grey, tendrils of the Entity reaching down to claim her prize, and fog swirling around him to take him back, to lay in wait, until the next time.

 He was right. His name did sound nice coming out of Felix’s mouth. 

[nightmare-speaks]

//somewhat continuation of rp with Billy Lenz//

Enjoy this small single chapter.

For Danny, this night was like any other. He had an argument about what to buy in a grocery store with Freddy and then left. He wore his usual clothes as his mask was inside of his coat in a pocket. It was too fast today to change clothes just to go outside in the city. It was night anyway, no one cares about others when it's dark. The usual people are already home or going from their work.

His hood was over his head the most as he could, trying not to let his ginger hair peek out too much. Yesterday's encounter with Billy made him even more conscious to be out without his hood or even his hunting knife. This time he had it with himself.

His trip to the grocery store was just as boring as you would expect. Walking in the halftime wasn't paying attention and was on the phone, the other half was him deciding what type of snacks he wanted. No one was really there, just him and a few other people who seemed to be just disinterested being here as he was. Walking to the register he put all his food on the conveyor belt. Most of it was canned food. He wasn't one to cool much so this was the best option.

The cashier looked at him suspiciously and Danny starred back making the other man scared enough to be silent. Walking back home he sighed. Yesterday was really something. He was thinking about the meeting with Billy the whole day. He really wasn't interested in him, he hoped the other got the message. He was weirdly possessive.

Danny hadn't told Freddy, he knew he would worry and probably then kill Billy. Billy Lenz after everything was still a friend. Not the best one, sure, but still a friend. Not that it mattered much, Billy is going to get bored of him soon and everything will go back to how things have been.

Back…

Danny wasn't sure if he wanted that. He talked with other people about Freddy trying to gain enough courage to tell the other man how he felt about him. They were best friends, they knew each other for a long time. They always told each other everything… well, almost everything. Danny was just a coward, nothing else. No amount of killing disproves that.

As he was getting closer to his house he noticed something. Some of the lights were still on obviously on but the front door was fully open. That wasn't good…

Danny picked up his pace and as he walked in, he left the grocery bags on the hallway ground and he pulled out his hunting knife. Putting on his mask he slowly crept deeper into the house. It wasn't a good idea to just straight up shout.

Walking into a living room his eyes widened and silently held his breath. Blood was everywhere. Splatters were all around the room. Broken parts of furniture were also present. It looked horrible. The worst part however was that it wasn't just normal blood. There was also that black blood liquid he knew well.

"Freddy?.." he whispered, looking around. Suddenly he heard a groan. Getting ready to strike Danny walked around a couch and then he saw it. There was blood on a wall and then under it layed Freddy. His eyes looked at the ceiling. His body was almost unmoving. There were holes in his chest oozing blood, watching more he also noticed Freddy's right hand missing.

Danny dropped his knife and took off his mask and quickly knelt down towards the other man putting hand on his shoulder. Freddy glanced at him but he made no other move. "H.. holy shit, what.. what happened?" Danny asked but Freddy only managed to get one more groan out of him before Danny stood up. "Stay here, I'll be right back." Danny said and ran to the bathroom. He knew that Freddy couldn't really go anywhere but it was more for Danny to reassure himself that he is not going to leave

Opening the first aid kit which was a cabinet. It contained a lot of various medications and other items. None of them really can go to the hospital so they had everything necessary at the house. Taking bandages and some gauze he ran back to the living room. Taking off his leather gloves so he could better get a grip of things. First he looked around and found Freddy's cut off hand not too far away from them. Taking it and pulling it out of the knife glove, Danny went to attach the hand back using bandages. This wasn't the first time Freddy was hurt and Danny needed to patch him up but it was never this bad. He sometimes accidentally cut off a finger too but he easily attached it back and it healed with no scars. Benefits of being a demon I guess. Danny just hoped it worked with the whole hand like that too.

Danny then took his knife and cut open Freddy's sweater to get a better view at the stab wounds. Slowly he sat Freddy up and began to bandage his wounds, binding it around his whole torso around the back. As he was doing it Freddy watched Danny with his eyes. "You… you are.. okay." Freddy croaked out. His voice gruff. He was thankful already started to heal as Danny was stopping the bleeding. Danny glanced at his face and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Me? Of course I am alright, you are the one who is dying on the floor." Danny said, last part more as a joke.

Freddy's face now held a small pained smile. "I… can't die." he said which made Danny roll his eyes as he was continuing to secure the bandages. "Well, it seems you are trying to get close to it though." he said and after that there was a short pause of silence.

"Lenz." Freddy said, taking a few deep breaths. He was getting more exhausted by talking but that didn't stop him. "Lenz was here. He attacked me…" Fredy continued and that made Danny pause in what he was doing. "Holy shit. Of course he was here." he muttered. "This is all my fault. I am so sorry." Danny said before tying Freddy's bandages again. "I thought Billy was here to hurt you.." Freddy explained.

"I think. I think he was here for you, Fred." Danny tried to explain. "Yesterday, I went with Billy on a date."

"A date?!" Freddy cried out maybe more than he wanted, he immediately closed his mouth in embarrassment. Danny quickly shook his head. "I didn't know what it was until it was too late. He got so possessive I then told him that I cannot date him because I have feelings for you and- . .."

Danny's eyes widened and he gasped. He didn't mean to say it out loud. "I… I mean that… like.. " it was too late, there was no way to just talk himself out of it. "I'm sorry I didn't-" he was interrupted by Freddy closing the small distance between them and kissing Danny on the lips. His left hand sneaks under Danny's hood and grabs the back of his hair.

Danny let out a surprised squeak that was muffled by Freddy's mouth, as soon as Danny realized what was happening he felt his body relax and didn't try to pull away. Tilting head a little he deepened the kiss and put hands around Freddy's neck.

They soon pulled away for Danny to breathe. His face was now matching his bright red hair. Freddy chuckled. "Took you long enough." he said which made Danny lighty punch Freddy in the shoulder. "You fucking bitch." he said but didn't really meant it. It made them both chuckle as they stared into each other's eyes. They kissed again before Danny sighed and looked around the room.

"So, what are we going to do with this mess?"

[immodestmussorgskyy]

campers anonymous

“Alright, everybody. Our meeting is in session!” Wraith gave the room a warm smile and rang his bell twice. “Let’s start with names? Trapper, how about you go first?”

A few audible sighs could be heard. Wraith could practically feel some of the eyerolls the killers were giving, most notably Ghostface and Legion, but remained optimistic. 

Trapper wrung his hands nervously and looked around the room. Almost all of his fellow killers sat around him in a circle, except the ones that refused to attend. Even the ones that were wearing masks seemed to stare at him expectantly. He cleared his throat. 

“Um, my name is Evan. But you guys know me as Trapper. I’ve been clean from camping for two trials now.” 

“Hi, Evan.” came the monotone chorus of voices around him. 

“Okay, your turn, Billy.” Wraith gestured towards the hulking and deformed creature sitting to his left. 

“My name is Max. I…” he looked to the floor in shame. “I haven’t really stopped camping at all.” To everybody’s surprise, the chainsaw-toting maniac had a very polite and subdued voice. 

“Hi, Max.” this time, the greetings were followed by some murmurs of consolation. 

Everybody turned towards the Shape, who sat motionlessly in his chair. Nothing could be heard from him except for muffled breathing. Wraith wasn’t even sure why he came to the meeting. He never contributed, nor did he greet anybody or try to create a welcoming environment. Nobody pushed him to come to Campers Anonymous, but he showed up anyway. It was puzzling, to say the least. 

“I know our friend the Shape here isn’t really comfortable with talking, so I’ll introduce him to you all. Everybody, this is Michael. I’m not sure how long he’s been camping--” said Wraith. 

“Not at all, actually!” piped Spirit. “I mean, he used to, but ever since we had our last meeting, he’s been doing really well.” she offered the Shape a smile, which he did not return or acknowledge. 

“Excellent! Well, everybody, say hi to Michael! Ghostface, how about you--”

“Hi, hello, whatever. My name is Danny, and I haven’t been clean from camping the hook at all, ever, because I don’t fucking camp.” Ghostface leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. Nobody could see his expression behind his mask, but everybody knew that he had that signature why am I here, fuck all of you look on his face. 

“Oh yeah? You don’t camp? Sitting in a bush next to the hook with your stupid shroud shit counts as camping, you dumbfuck.” Legion retorted viciously. “Why are you even here, anyway?” 

“It’s called stalking, smart one.” Ghostface’s voice grew venomous as he flipped Legion the bird. “And I’m here so I can laugh at you amateurs that still get kills from camping.” 

“Stalking, my ass. That is literally camping. The only difference is that you’re sitting in a bush like a complete kook.” 

“Hey, why the fuck are you here, then? If you haven’t already noticed, you’re the only one from your little family that got invited here, because the rest of them are actually decent at killing.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Legion growled, springing from his chair with his hand on his knife. “If we could harm each other your guts would be all over the floor, you little bitch. And for the record, I’m here because I actually want to improve my skills and better myself. Bet you don’t know what that’s like at all.”

Ghostface scoffed and waved his knife in the air nonchalantly. “Whatever you say, King Frank. Keep crying. Somebody will change your diaper eventually.” 

Legion gave an enraged scream and charged towards Ghostface, but was grabbed by the hood and pulled back by Trapper. Wraith gave him a look of gratitude. 

“Didn’t I say no weapons at our CA meetings? Please, this is no place to fight. We’re all here to better ourselves.” he rubbed his nose in exasperation and prompted the others to continue. 

The greetings went around the circle, even to Huntress and Plague, who had obvious language barriers. Plague was also sitting six feet outside the circle, coughing into a bloodstained handkerchief. She didn’t seem to mind the separation, every now and again enthusiastically contributing something that nobody could really understand. 

“Our topic today is successes. Little victories. I know that camping can make us feel very isolated and guilty, but today we’ll share our stories of success. And if you don’t have any successes you can think of, tell us something positive about your last trial.” Wraith adjusted his glasses and gave another smile to the group. “Our discussion will be popcorn style today, friends. Just speak whenever you feel ready.” 

Nobody spoke. 

Finally, Nurse interrupted the long silence and cleared her throat. “I tried using three blinks instead of camping the hook in my last trial. Two people escaped, but I felt better that I didn’t camp them.” Some nods of approval went around the circle. 

“Thank you for sharing, Sally. Anybody else?” 

Spirit raised her hand. “I stopped camping a few trials ago and I’ve really improved my chasing skills. I think I’m doing a lot better with my phase walking abilities, too. I hope you all know what it’s like to not be a camper one day.” She rested her hands on her lap and gave everybody a proud smile. 

“That’s great, Rin. I’m glad that you experienced that.” Wraith said warmly. “What about you, Frank?”

Legion shrugged. “I never really camped to begin with, but I’ve been trying to look for other survivors more instead of just patrolling the hooked ones. Nothing special about it, though.” 

“Hey, that’s progress.” Nurse rasped. Legion gave her a nod. 

Just then, a loud, metallic scraping could be heard from down the hall, accompanied by heavy footsteps. Plod, plod, screeeeech. Plod, plod, screeeech.

“Oh, great. That triangle-headed freak is going to join us.” grumbled Ghostface, who was shot an irritated glance by Wraith. The Executioner stopped and stood in the doorway. 

“Pyramid Head! I’m so glad you could make it. Please, find a chair and have a seat.” 

As if pondering his request, the Executioner tilted his massive pyramid head to the side, then plodded forward. A few of the killers flinched at the screeching of his blade on the floor, then jumped as he dropped it with a loud clang. He moved slowly and deliberately, pulling one of the small chairs from a stack in the corner of the room and forcing himself between Ghostface and Legion. The chair he was perched atop was dwarfed by his massive stature. Secretly, Wraith was glad the silent beast of a man was here. He would at least serve as a barrier between the two squabbling young men. 

It was curious as to why the Executioner showed up to these meetings, too, considering the fact that his entire existence was dedicated to executing judgment against survivors. Wraith was surprised that he even cared enough about a survivor’s trial experience enough to come to a meeting about ending camping addictions. Like the Shape, he didn’t speak, but at least made low rumbling noises of agreement occasionally. It was sweet, in a bizarre way, that he at least enjoyed everybody’s company enough to sit in silence and spectate their group therapy. 

“Do you have anything to share with us today?” Wraith said, offering him a cheerful smile. He always asked, even though the Executioner rarely gave him any acknowledgment or answer. But it was Wraith’s imperative that all killers deserved to be included, even if they didn’t have anything to contribute. 

The monstrous man sat silently for a moment, then stood and retrieved his blade. He heaved it from the ground, dragged it with a loud screeeech between his and Ghostface’s chairs. The smaller killer huffed and glared at the back of his bloodstained helmet. The Executioner dragged it to the middle of the circle and held it out proudly towards Wraith, almost offering him the handle, its tip digging into the linoleum floor. 

Upon closer inspection, the grimy, impossibly sharp edge of his blade was covered in fresh blood and viscera that could only be survivor guts. 

“Oh? You’ve… gotten more kills?” Wraith guessed. 

The Executioner nodded and motioned with his hands as if asking him to continue.

“You’ve gotten more moris?” 

He nodded eagerly, resting the handle of his blade under his arm to clap in excitement. He mimed a crushing motion with one of his hands, then thrust it forward like he was stabbing something. Wraith beamed. It was exciting seeing one of the more shy killers get a little excited over their memento mori offerings. The Executioner dragged the blade behind him back to his seat and rested it gently on the ground next to his chair. 

“Okay, well, this is boring as fuck and I have better things to be doing.” Ghostface sneered.

“Oh yeah? Like whacking off to pictures of people in the shower, you perv? Have fun.” Legion said. 

“Listen, kid, I’m not going to tolerate more of your bullshit--” 

The Executioner roared and grabbed each of the young men by their collars, shaking them violently. The two fell back into stunned silence as they were dropped back onto their seats. Hopefully, this would shut them up for a while. 

“Uh… can I go now?” Oni said. Wraith nodded at him. “I haven’t stopped camping at all.” He shrugged his shoulders sheepishly. “But last trial I got to mori somebody right at the exit gate.” 

“Were they the last one?” Trapper asked. 

“Yeah. But they just hid the entire time and didn’t do any gens, so I figured their teammates wouldn’t really mind.”

“Nice.” 

The rest of the killers went around and shared their stories. The positive developments made Wraith gleam on the inside. Only two meetings in and everybody was getting to know each other, even developing friendships, and even the shyer killers were beginning to speak up. Except the Shape, but nobody was really bothered by the silent man anymore. Soon, the clock on the wall read 12:30 and killers began giving their goodbyes and filing out of the room.

“Bye, suckers.” Ghostface hopped out of his chair, the first to leave. He said that he only came to these meetings to gloat, but Wraith knew better. He just enjoyed the company. 

“Thanks for the meeting, Wraith.” Legion said gruffly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he exited the room. Spirit gave a little wave. The rest of the killers streamed out the door, discussing things quietly with each other. The Executioner trailed after them slowly, dragging his blade down the hallway. Soon, the only person remaining in the room with Wraith was the Shape. 

“Yes, Michael? Did you have something you wanted to discuss with me?” 

The Shape stood up and shuffled towards the other killer. He reached a hand out, gesturing for Wraith to hand him his clipboard and pen. 

“Oh? Do you need to write something?” 

He nodded and took them from Wraith’s hands, writing a message in careful, small handwriting. It read: Thank you for doing this. I have a serious habit. 

Wraith smiled reassuringly and gave the Shape’s shoulder a soft pat. “Always my pleasure, Michael. You’re welcome to share at our next meeting. I promise nobody is going to think any less of you.”

The masked man looked at Wraith for a good long moment, then nodded slowly and left the room. The gentle killer made a few last notes on his clipboard and began stacking the chairs back up with a content sigh. Things were beginning to look up for his camping compatriots. 

Check out this story and the rest of its chapters on AO3! 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27011980/chapters/65940853

[crystalwillow]

When You’re Ready

Pairing: Rafael Aveiro x Casey Valentine (F!MC)

A/N: Hi guys. This is my first time rewriting a chapter as my own short fiction. I don’t see many fanfictions with Rafael and Casey (both male and female MC). I won’t be quoting may lines from the actual chapters because my brain is a mess and I forgot to screenshot a lot of what’s happened recently as I was so emotionally engaged in it all. But I thought it would be sweet to add this into the mix. 

Tagging: @kiteplayschoices 

--- After they know the cure worked and they’re both awake ---

Casey had just been told by a happy Sienna that Rafael had woken up, and she could go to see him. He’d been asking for her. Happily, Casey made her way to his room, but stopped in her tracks as she heard shouting coming from his room.

“Did you even think of me before you charged in there?!”

“I- No. I didn’t”

“Just as I thought. Goodbye, Rafael. I’m glad you’re okay but... we’re not. In fact there is no ‘we’ anymore. This relationship is over.”

“Sora-“

Casey watched as Rafael’s now ex-boyfriend stormed out of the room, stopping and turning to look at her before heading off through the halls in a rush. Tears stinging his eyes. Taking a deep breath, Casey walked on hesitantly and entered Raf’s room, poking her head in first. Rafael looked up and a smile graced his features. Even though he was still a little pale and clearly dehydrated, to her he still looked as beautiful as he did the first day she saw him. She entered and returned his smile as she sat in the chair beside the bed.

“Hey. Are you okay? I heard.. what happened just now.”

“Oh. ... Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah... Sora was right. I wanted it to work, but... my heart? It wasn’t in it.”

“I see.” Casey said nodding, focusing on a wall before looking back into his eyes. “So... what does this mean for you now? Are you still going to Brazil, or...?”

Rafael looked at the door for a minute. Thought flickering over his face before he focused back on Casey.

“No. No, I don’t think so. I told myself that moving would.... be good for me. A new frontier. But now that I think about it. I think I was just running away.”

He moved his hand slightly, Casey noticed and laced their fingers together and he squeezed lightly.

“I’m going to stay. I need to. I wanted a change, and well.. I got one.”

The two locked eyes and grinned at each other briefly. Casey scooted closer and rested her head on his shoulder, Rafael leaning his head onto hers and taking a deep breath. A ghost of a smile crossed his face as they stayed like that for a while. In that moment, a lot clicked into place. One of those things being that his break-up with Sora a few moments ago didn’t hurt like it should have, because he wanted this. He wanted Casey. Then his eyes widened as the final realization came forward. He loves her, and wants to love her for the rest of their lives. But he shook the thought from his mind, forcing himself to enjoy the current moment.

--- Days Later ---

“Dr. Valentine? ... Casey?”

She turned round to face the other person in her room, still in a bit of a daze.

“Hm?”

“I’m discharging you.”

“What? But.”

Ethan stopped her by holding up his hand. “Don’t even attempt to argue with me. I’m happy with your latest test results. I’m sending you home.”

Casey sat on the bed, silent as her gaze fell to the floor. She was scared, though she wouldn’t openly admit that to anyone just yet. Even though she had admitted she was scared of dying, this seemed different to her.

“Can I do normal things again?” she asked numbly

“Yes. You can walk, eat your favourite ice cream, do light exercise. No sexual activity though please, that’s too strenuous. I don’t need you re-admitted.”

He had made his last comment in hope of getting her to smile but it was evident that wasn’t going to work. Sighing, Ethan sat in the chair next to her bed.

“What is it?”

“Can I go to the memorial?”

“I wouldn’t suggest it. Like Rafael, your immune system is still a bit weak. So whilst yes, I am discharging you. I would suggest staying away from large gatherings for a while.”

“Can I see Rafael? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine Casey. Said something about going home to his vovo.”

“His Grandma.” Casey said quietly, a ghost of  a smile on her lips. “He loves her so much. The guilt that hit him when we were in that isolation room before he went into his coma...” she trailed off as she remembered that moment. Wishing she could have just had the courage to kiss his lips, even if it was just a light peck. Or just kissing his cheek. She regrets not laying out how she felt before he slipped into his deepened state of sleep.

“Casey?”

She turned her head to look Ethan in the eye.

“You should go and see him. He was asking after you before he left. He wanted to come here but was more concerned about getting to his grandma.”

“He really does love her. I don’t blame him. She must have been worried sick about her poor grandson.”

Ethan hummed in agreement with a tight nod.

“When you’re ready you’re free to go.” He told her as he got up and left the room.

“Dr. Ramsey?” Casey called out. Ethan stopped in the doorway and turned around to look at her.

“Yes?”

“Thank you. For looking after me. Helping me recover. You’re a good friend.”

“It was nothing. I wasn’t going to lose you too.”

She smiled at him and he smiled back before leaving. Casey collected her belongings and was soon in a cab on her way to Rafael’s grandma’s house. When she got there, she paid the cab driver and stepped out, slinging her bag over her shoulder and looking at the front door. Before she could even walk up one cobblestone on the path, a short and delighted looking old lady came rushing outside.

“Thank you!” she half sighed, half shrieked as she hugged Casey tightly. Surprise spread onto Casey’s face. Rafael appeared at the door and chuckled.

“Vovo. Let the poor woman come inside first. I’m sorry Casey, she’s a... little excited to meet you.”

His grandma pulled away from Casey, beaming brightly.

“Don’t make such a fuss Rafael! This girl helped save your life! She should be thanked properly.”

Rafael chuckled again, standing up straight.

“Well shall we at least invite her inside?”

“Oh of course! How rude of me. Come in Casey, come in.”

She said excitedly, taking the young doctors hand and pulling her inside past Rafael who beamed at her happily. He closed the door behind them and followed to the kitchen, stopping next to Casey, leaning over and whispering to her.

“Two seconds and she already loves you more than me.”

“What can I say? I’m pretty loveable.”

“Can’t argue there.”

The two shared a smile as Rafael’s grandma turned back to them, with a plate full of pastries.

“Now. You two must be starving. I know for a fact you haven’t eaten since breakfast Rafael.” She fixed him with a stern look. and he grinned back sheepishly, grabbing a delicious looking pastry from the plate.

“Thank you vovo.”

“And you dear? What would you like?”

Casey looked at the plate considering her options. But her face fell, she wasn’t hungry right now, and she felt rotten for not wanting to choose a pastry. They looked beautiful and like a great amount of love had gone into making them. Rafael noticed the shift in her features and smiled softly, squeezing her hand under the table as he swallowed his bite of food.

“Vovo? Why don’t we let Casey rest for a bit first. She’s just left the hospital.”

“Okay. But I’ll leave these here for you two to enjoy. But don’t eat them all, I’ve got friends from bingo coming over later.” She smiled kindly and left the room, heading into a different one just down the hall. Rafael put his pastry down on the table and turned to Casey, a worried frown taking over his features as he took her hands in his.

“Raf?”

“Are you okay Casey? I’ve been worried about you.”

“Honestly? No. I’m far from okay.”

He sighed and pulled her to his chest holding her tight. Casey clung to him as if she was afraid he’d disappear when she let go.

“I can’t even go to the darn memorial. I led two people to their deaths, and I can’t even pay my respects and tell them how sorry I am. And I’m sure sienna hates me. I mean I practically killed the man she wanted to date. Or was dating. Whatever. She’s lost the first person who loved her and showed her how special she was. I took him from her.”

“Hey. Hey. Where’s all of this coming from? You didn’t kill them, Casey.”

“I may as well have done. Just took a knife and stabbed them, or a gun and shot them in the head. I got them trapped-, I got all of us trapped in that room. I could have killed you too. I could have lost you. The man I-” she stopped as a sob escaped her. Rafael sighed and held her close. Rubbing comforting circles on her back as she clung to him for dear life.

“It’s just. It’s not fair! I can understand that Travis may not have cared if he died. That he wanted the senator to pay for essentially being the cause in the death of his brother. But... why not let us go first? Why not let people who were just doing their jobs and saying goodbyes leave? Why did we have to be there? Why did Danny and Bobby have to pay with their lives? If anyone was to die. It should have been me.”

“Casey, no. Don’t talk like that! Please.”

“But it’s the truth isn’t it? I made the misjudgment of just barging in there. I discovered what was going on. I was the main catalyst in getting people hurt and killed. I hear voices. Their voices. They blame me. And they’re right. It is all my fault. It’s my fault Bobby won’t be giving his daughter that car on her 16th. It’s my fault that Sienna and Danny will never ever again go on a date or flirt or just be happy together like they deserved. I’m a monster Rafael. I should have quit when the situation with Mrs. Martinez happened. Not even fought to keep my medical license. It’s clear that I don’t deserve it.”

“What?! Are you mad? Of course you deserve that license Casey. You’re a brilliant doctor. How many people have you helped get on the path to recovery? Get completely better and given them plans to follow and the right medications to make sure they never have to step inside a hospital for the same reason again? If you don’t deserve that license and are such a monster of a doctor... why in God’s name did Dr. Banerji choose you to be the junior fellow? Why has he, along with so many others including me, supported you. Defended you. Time and time again when someone else berated you for making a mistake. One they would have probably made too if they were in your position. You helped save a woman’s life on your first day as an intern, and you hadn’t even gone through your orientation yet. You’re amazing Casey. Those are just a few of the many reasons I-”

Casey sat quietly, keeping her head rested on Rafael’s chest as tears streamed down her cheeks and she choked on quiet sobs. Part of her knew he was right. Everything she had, her second year residency, her place on the diagnostic team. All of it. She had it because of the people she met and impressed during her first year at Edenbrook. She got lost in her thoughts and suddenly inhaled a sharp breath. Rafael shifted, pulling back and looking at her.

“Are you okay?”

“...yeah. I- It’s just. Don’t worry. It’s stupid.”

“Nothing is ever stupid. You can tell me. What’s wrong?”

“Well.. I’ve almost lost you twice now. And I-”

He sighed deeply and pulled her back into his chest, wrapping his arms round her tightly, resting his chin on her head as he closed his eyes. Pushing back the tears that pricked his eyes and threatened to spill out and down his cheek, he give Casey a kiss into her hair.

“Casey?”

“Mhm?” she hummed, enjoying the almost comfortable peace of the moment.

“Shall we go for a walk? The air could do us some good. Plus there are some things we need to talk about, that I’d rather only our ears hear. For now at least.”

Casey shifted and looked up at him, they locked gazes and there was something in his eyes. A look that was similar to longing. She gave him a small smile and nod.

“Okay. Sure.”

He beamed back at her and called out to his grandma. “Vovo?! I’m taking Casey for a walk around the block. We’ll be back soon!”

After a response from his grandma, Rafael grabbed his keys and the rest of his pastry, before leading Casey outside and shutting the door securely behind them.

“Are you sure you didn’t want anything? I could go back in quickly and grab you something.”

“No thank you. I’m okay.”

With an indifferent shrug, he stuffed his keys in his pocket as he walked down the path with Casey following behind before they walked side by side. For the first few moments, they walked in a companionable silence. After that they got lost in conversation, it was mainly Casey listening to Rafael tell more childhood stories of his and pointing out places that held special meaning to him.

As they turned into the park, Rafael pointed to a tree.

“Let’s go and sit down for a bit.”

“Why under a tree when there’s a perfectly good bench there?” Casey giggled

“Why on a bench in the sun, when you can sit under a tree in the shade and stay cool?”

“Touché.”

They made their way over to the tree and sat at it’s base next to each other. He smiled as Casey automatically rested her head on his shoulder.

“Heavy head?”

“You have an idea of what this feels like? I feel like I...”

“Have a bowling ball for a head?”

They looked at each other and laughed as Casey nodded.

“Exactly that.”

Rafael smiled at her and they stared into the distance for a while before he cleared his throat. Casey turned to him with a soft smile.

“Are you okay? I haven’t asked you that for a while. How are you coping?”

“I’d say pretty well, all things considered.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, yes I almost died. Sora broke things off. We lost friends. But... I’m doing good.”

“How about your grandma? Is she okay?”

“She’s thankful that I’m alive. But really? She’s just happy she can embarrass me longer.”

The two shared a chuckle at that. Then Raf’s face turned almost serious, yet it was still relaxed as he looked Casey in the eyes. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in his intense gaze and the way his eyes flicked to her lips. The energy between them became charged and Casey gave a small smile as she blushed lightly.

“You know. This isn’t just any tree. It’s the one I claimed would be where I start a part of my life I’m sure about.”

“That seems.. pretty cryptic Raf.”

“I suppose it does. What I mean is. When I was younger. I told myself when I find the person I believe is THE one. My true love. I’d bring them here, to this spot and we’d... well. Why don’t I just show you.”

He leaned in towards her, Casey’s heart starting to beat in her chest so hard she swore it was about to fly out as he cupped the back of her head and closed his eyes bringing his lips to her own. She felt her eyes close slowly as she started kissing his back. But this wasn’t a hot kiss. This was like one of those kisses in the movies. It was slow, patient, full of love and care. As he pulled away from the kiss, Casey opened her eyes slowly, looking up at him to see that he was blushing too.

“Wow.” She whispered, in complete awe.

“Yeah. Wow.” He agreed as he bit his lip, looking down shyly.

Casey pecked his cheek. “By the way.. whatever it was you ate a little while ago. It’s delicious.”

Raf chuckled at her comment shaking his head. Amusement dancing in his eyes.

“I just kissed you and you give my grandma the compliment.” He retorted with a playful and innocent smirk.

“Oh the kiss was great. Twelve out of ten, would 100% do it again.”

“You would?”

“For the rest of my life, Aveiro.”

“That’s a bold claim, Valentine.”

“You like it.”

“I can’t say that you’re wrong.”

“That’s because I’m not.” She said with a cocky grin. Rafael smiled at her before leaning in to share another kiss.

They stayed under that tree until the sun started to set, when they stood up Raf held out his hand with a questioning look. Casey smiled and took it, walking back to his grandma’s house. They talked some more on the way back and when they walked through the front door they were greeted with a delicious smell.

“Something smells good, vovo.” Rafael smiled as the two of them entered the kitchen, and he walked over, giving his grandma a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m making your favourite.” She replied happily. “Will the beautiful Dr. Valentine be joining us?”

Rafael looked at Casey who looked back at him with a shrug.

“I think she needs to get home. Her roommates are probably worried about her.”

The two turned to Casey as a scream escaped her mouth.

“Casey?” Raf questioned, concern in his voice.

“I left my phone here. I have 12 missed calls from Sienna, 5 from Jackie, 3 from Ethan, 8 from Elijah, 10 from Aurora, and... 25 from Bryce?! Oh good Lord there’s 165 messages in the group chat as well...” Casey sat down, looking pale and weak again.

Turning to his grandma, Rafael asked if she could watch over Casey for a minute and headed to the landline phone, dialing the number for Casey’s apartment. A frantic Elijah picked up.

“Rafael! Have you seen Ca-”

“Elijah! Calm down. Casey’s fine. She’s been with me pretty much all day. We’ve been in the park and she left her phone behind. She wasn’t ignoring you all intentionally. We were just spending some quality time together.” He explained, hearing a collective sigh of relief from people on the other end of the line as Elijah told them Casey’s fine.

“Quality time?”

“Yeah. We um.. We were enjoying each other’s company without the presence of phones.”

“Ahhhh. I see. Aveiro was making moves at last.”

“I was not. I merely... showed her around my neighborhood and sat in a park with her.” He retorted trying to throw Elijah off the trail.

“Uh-huh. We all know what happens in parks buddy.” Elijah teased.

“You guys are insufferable!” Raf exclaimed with a small laugh.

“Rafael honey. Dinner is almost ready. Come and set the table.” His grandma called from the kitchen

“Look. I’ve gotta go. But Casey’s safe. She’s okay. And if she doesn’t come home to night, she’ll be here. So stop worrying.”

“Mmm-hm. Have fun Raf.” Elijah commented slyly and then hung up. Rafael set the phone down and walked back into the kitchen looking a little dazed.

“Are you okay?” Casey asked

“I’m fine. Our friends are just very dirty minded and think we were doing unspeakable things in the park.”

“Oh no. Not their minds wandering again!”

“Yup.”

Casey groaned and hit her head on the table by accident as she sagged down.

“Ouch.” She said with a laugh, rubbing the spot where she hit.

That night Casey stayed and enjoyed a lovely meal with Raf and his grandma. It was dark by the time they had finished and cleared everything away. Casey asked if she could stay the night, not wanting to go out in the dark and home by herself. Deep down, the truth was that she didn’t want to go home to the apartment, and have to face another night of sleeping alone in silence, when the voices struck the most in the deafening silence of night. She showered and put on her last pair of clean pyjamas and laid down next to Rafael in his bed.

“I’ll try to make it to the couch before I fall asleep. I promise.”

“What if I don’t want you to?” he mumbled, turning onto his side, wrapping one of his muscular arms around her waist, pulling her close.

“I don’t think your grandma would be pleased if she found me here come the morning.”

“She’s nicer than that. She wouldn’t whoop my ass you know.”

“I know. She seems really lovely, but I wouldn’t want to get you in any type of trouble.”

“You know. Somehow I don’t think you could. Vovo loves you. I love you. An-”

Raf froze blushing as he realized he just said those three words. And so naturally too. Casey smiled at him softly and played with his hair.

“You don’t have to say it back.” He defended. “You can say it when you’re ready.”

“And what if I’m ready now?”

“Then... I wouldn’t stop you but, don’t feel like you have to say it just because.”

Casey chuckled at his cuteness and pulled his head to her chest, hugging him tightly.

“I love you too Raf. I think I have since that first time I saw you.”

“The feeling is very much mutual.”

They chuckled and settled down together, looking through all of Rafael’s old school books until they fell asleep, heads resting on each other. When His grandma came in to tell him to turn his light off, she smiled at the scene of books in front of them as Rafael snored softly, still loosely holding a book. She carefully moved the books, but still managed to stir them awake.

“Vovo. We weren’t-”

“Shh, it’s alright my boy. Just go back to sleep.”

“I should go to the-” Casey started speaking quietly

“No, no. I don’t wish for you to stumble.”

Casey laid back down and Raf wrapped his arm around her. His grandma tucking them in snuggly and giving her grandson, a kiss on the forehead.

“I have that ring. For when you’re ready.” She whispered in his ear.

He gave a soft smile in response as he fell back into a deep sleep, snoring softly once again.

[phantomjellies]

the adventures of peter parker, intern extraordinaire, touring his own home, ft. embarrassing avengers

read on ao3 or continue below

chapter 7: anxiety is a slut and mj is danny devito brandishing a knife

 Peter slipped out of the room while Tony was letting the rest of the team look around the workshop. He rode the elevator down to one of the gyms, planning on just doing a quick workout to burn out his nervous energy. But when the doors opened, someone was already in there.

 Peter groaned.

 “Маленький паук! Come here and spar with me!”

 “Uhhh, I was really just gonna do a quick workout —”

 “But I’m bored,” Natasha whined, throwing a pair of knives to the side.

 “Wha — did you just throw knives?”

 “Uh, yeah,” Natasha said, deadpan. “It might surprise you, but I’m actually      very    skilled at throwing knives.”

 Peter rolled his eyes.

 “Nat, I would love to, really, but I have the...trip.”

 “But you came down here anyway. So please spar?”

 Peter considered it.

 “Just don’t give me bruises, otherwise the team will question it.”

 “But knocking out teeth is still on the table?”

 “Ha ha.” Peter rolled his eyes. “Give me a sec to change.”

 Peter went into the locker room, which was created purely so they didn’t have to go to their rooms to change, and pulled on a pair of athletic leggings and a tank top, wrapping his hands as he walked back out.

 Natasha was lying on the floor of the gym, spinning one of the knives in the air. She threw it towards Peter, and he sidestepped it, throwing his middle finger up at her. She simply grinned and hopped to her feet, waiting as Peter went through a quick warmup of stretches.

 “We can’t go too long,” Peter warned. “I have to get back soon or they’ll wonder where I went.”

 “Relax, Tony can keep a crowd of nerd teenagers entertained for long enough.”

 “How did you know they were with Tony?”

 “Why wouldn’t I?” Natasha fired back.

 That was a valid point.

 Peter just squared up and prepared to spar.

 Peter hit the ground, rolling out from under Natasha before throwing himself over her.

 The two of them laid there for a moment, breathing heavily, before Natasha pushed Peter off her legs, letting him flop facedown onto the mats.

 “So did I win?” Peter asked into the floor.

 “I dunno,” Natasha said dryly. “Why don’t you ask your audience?”

 That sent Peter sitting straight up, whirling around to face the elevator.

 It was just MJ.

 Peter breathed a sigh of relief.

 “Hey, MJ.”

 He walked over to give her a hug, resting his chin on her shoulder.

 “You smell like sweat.”

 “Love you too.”

 “Just so you know, the whole team saw you getting your ass kicked by Natasha.”

 “Uh, I think      I    was the one doing the ass kicking—”

 “No,” Natasha and MJ said together.

 “Betrayed. Stabbed through the heart.”

 “I could do that if you wanted to,” Natasha offered.

 “Wait, did you say the whole team?”

 “Mhm. Fri sent us down here to get you. You’re lucky I was able to get Grace to keep everyone in there. They’re dying to know what you’re doing.”

 “Uh, can I please not go in there?”

 MJ analyzed him for a moment before grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the locker room.

 “Nat, can you go in there? That’ll shut them up for a bit.”

 The two held eye contact for a moment, Peter glancing between them, confused.

 Natasha sighed, but started walking to the elevator.

 “MJ?”

 “I’m pretty sure if you go in there, you’ll have an anxiety attack, am I right?”

 “I—” Peter paused. “Have I told you how much I love you?”

 “You did, actually, like five minutes ago, but I’ll hear it again.” She sent a soft smile his way, sitting down on the bench in the locker room. Peter sat down next to her, slowly exhaling as she wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

 “What’s going on in that brain of yours?”

 “Do I ever know?”

 “Mood, but I don’t want you breaking down, so spill.”

 “I dunno, just anxiety? I just...I don’t want people to try and take advantage of me. Or you or Ned. And I don’t want people to treat me differently just because I’m friends with the Avengers. I’m just Peter Parker. And it doesn’t help that I’m really fucking paranoid they’re going to find out about Spider-Man.” He sighed. “It’s just anxiety being irrational, as always.”

 MJ hummed. “It be like that. Anxiety’s a stupid bitch, but I also know how fucking annoying it is when someone says that since you know it’s irrational you should ignore it, so I can just offer reassurance. All that’s happening is that they’re finally realizing just how awesome of a dork you actually are.”

 Peter was quiet, slowly unwrapping his hands.

 “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. Why don’t you take a shower, because you stink, and then we’ll grab Ned and Shuri and sleep in your room?”

 “I...I’ll take a shower, and we’ll see.”

 “Great. I’ll be waiting here.”

 ***

 Peter did feel a lot better after the shower. MJ’s words circled around in his head, slightly easing his raging anxiety.

 He slipped his clothes back on and went back out to meet MJ, who wrapped her arms around him and held him for a moment.

 “Love you,” Peter mumbled into her collarbone.

 “I love you too.”

 The two of them went up to the penthouse, MJ waiting in the living room while Peter went into his room to change.

 When he got there, however, Tony was sitting at his desk, looking over his homework.

 “What the fuck.”

 “Oh, there you are. You okay?”

 “I—” Peter trailed off, sighing. “It’s just a lot. My anxiety’s really acting up and I’m worried my identity is gonna get out. I mean, they saw me fucking sparring with Nat.”

 Tony pulled Peter into a hug, fingers carding through the curls at the nape of his neck.

 “You know that none of us would willingly give up your identity, right? And if you want us to just lay back and not interfere, we can. We have your back, Pete.”

 Peter hummed.

 “Y’all are a bunch of saps.”

 Tony gasped with mock offense.

 “That’s it. Revoking your workshop privileges.”

 “Are you now?”

 Tony gave him a fond look, as if to say I could never.

 Peter stepped back, grabbing the hoodie off his desk chair and pulling it on. Tony looked in amusement at the M.I.T logo with his name underneath

 “What?” Peter asked. Tony just shook his head.

 “Right, well I’m gonna change and then MJ and I are gonna go get Ned and Shuri. We’re probably going to sleep in my room instead of with the rest of the team.”

 “Okay, but what if, instead of just leaving the trip, someone came down and got you instead?”

 “No.”

 “Someone they wouldn’t know?”

 Peter sighed. “Tony, just because one of you wears a baseball cap and sunglasses doesn’t mean they’re not going to know you.”

 “Um, that’s rude, but as I was saying, no one knows who Ant-Man is.”

 “Oh my God. You’re a genius.”

[hugsandharrifield]

what if like one of the killers took a liking to teasing steve like blowing kisses and lil smacks on the ass and dwight just becomes extremely protective/jealous?

“Hey pretty boy.” Steve nearly jumped out of his skin as Ghostface’s hand smacked his butt as he was busy doing the generator. Steve nearly fell over in surprise as the killer blocked the door to the room he was in. He of course had to be doing the gen in the upper level Hawkins with no real way out now that the killer was there.   It had become a thing lately, the stealthy killer had decided that Steve was a “snack”, and now instead of just stabbing him. It had gotten a little uncomfortable. Really creepy flirting, taking random pictures, his gloved hands stealthy placed on his ass and thighs.  And Steve knew that Danny liked to mess with people so this made sense as an extension of his troll like behavior. Dwight on the other hand he was kind of unhappy with the whole thing. Ever since Ghostface had started doing this crap Dwight really started to be a pest to him, Dwight started sneaking around the trials blowing the killers stealth constantly and it seemed like he wouldn’t leave until he had dropped every single pallet on the map on the cloaked figures head. Danny backed Steve against the wall of the room and placed his knife threateningly just above his left shoulder. “Maybe if you give me a kiss i’ll let you go.”  “Get the hell away from my boyfriend!” A voice called out,  Ghostface turned and was beaned straight in the face with a thrown flashlight.  Steve took the opportunity to slip away. “Oh god! I think you broke my nose. I’m gonna gut you like a pig you fucking nerd!” Steve heard Ghostface rage as he and Dwight ran through the hallways the killer slightly behind moving a little slower than he usually does.   Steve looked over at Dwight and he had the biggest shit eating grin on his face. The rest of this trial was going to be interesting Steve thought as he and his beau  practically stumbled down the stairs to the maze of hallways in Hawkins. 

[kyloxmoegi1993]

Author's Notes:

Hiiiiiiii it's me again. How y'all been doing during these crazy times? Good? Not good? Meh? I hear you. I hear you. I'm back with my bullshit again so buckle up boys and girls I've got a good one tonight. I don't own Ghost Face© or any other Dead by Daylight © character's or content. The only thing I own is my own character Lilyth Nikiforov who I had help naming from my friend Kitten 💜

This is going to be a smutty story so if you are easily offended or are bothered by gore and such do not proceed any further. I love you all and enjoy! 😊🖤

*START*

Lilyth looked around the familiar area of the Gideon Meat Plant and wrinkled her nose at the smell of decaying flesh and what she swore were moth balls. This was her first time back in awhile and she had no idea who the killer was. Finding a totem she began working on cleansing it as her mind drifted off to thinking about a man she met lately. He was a dangerous man, that much she could tell but she loved the way he spoke to her and the way his dark gray eyes seemed to sparkle with a hint of danger as well as interest. He had taken her out for coffee and they talked about many things from what shampoo she used to what size shoe he wore. Finishing the totem she sat back on her heels and sighed and jumped startled when she heard a scream from somewhere in the building. She recognized the scream as one of her friends Rayne and swore under her breath. She had been so wrapped up in thoughts about the lean, muscular man dressed in black that she had forgotten where she was and what she was supposed to be doing. Running, she headed towards where she heard cries of pain and the heard another scream as her friend was placed on one of the meat hooks downstairs. Descending into the darkness she stopped when she heard footsteps and she kneeled down behind some boxes and saw the killer was ghost face as he went upstairs. After being sure he was gone she rushed to her friend and helped her down and went behind a wall to help her heal herself.

"Are you alright?" She asked breathless.

Her friend coughed and winces in pain but nodded.

"Yes. They always somehow find me first. I don't know how. Doesn't help that it's dark as shit down here."

Lilyth smiled sympathetically for her friend and stood up and went to turn when she realized she was face to face with the killer. He swung at her and she just barely managed to dodge the blade he was holding and she took off running.

"Run Rayne!!! I'll keep him distracted!!"

As expected the killer ignored her friend and took off after her.

Behind her she heard him breathing and he lunged forward and slashed at her back causing her to stumble forward into the ground scraping her knees as she fell. Swearing she started to crawl and felt him grab her and roll her over onto her back and then he stopped and looked at her. His head titling as he regarded her. Catching her breath and bleeding she looked at him confused by his actions or lack thereof.

"Well? Isn't this the part where you stab me and then put me on one of those meat hooks?"

His response was to put the knife to her throat but then move and caress the side of her cheek. She shivered at the coldness of the steel blade gliding over her warm skin. What was he doing? Was he going to kill her or not? And why did the air around him seem so familiar...?

She was about to ask when he got off her and picked her up and put her over his shoulder. As he walked she struggled and he grunted and slapped her ass in a means of telling her to stop. A gasp left her mouth and she squirmed a bit, enjoying the contact as he ascended the stairs and carried her to a backroom looking area and set her down on the mattress.

Confused she looked at him and he pointed the knife at her and she took it as him saying stay put or else. Confused as to why he was doing this but slightly interested she nodded in understanding and watched him slink off in stealth mode. She began tending to her wounds and found herself ignoring the screams and found herself getting tired. Though the mattress was questionable she laid down and drifted off to sleep for a bit. Next thing she knew she had a sense of being watched and opened her eyes and saw him squatting down in front of her simply staring at her. Though she couldn't see his eyes she felt his gaze burning through her and she pressed her thighs together which he noticed. He chose to speak at that point.

"You're the last one. I warned you what would happen if I ever came across you doll."

Her eyes widened at not only recognizing his voice but the nickname.

*Flashback*

Finishing their coffee Lilyth started walking out the door when the grey eyes man grabbed her and pulled her flush against his body tucking a piece of her curly brown hair behind her ear.

"If I see you again, I'm going to make you scream doll."

*End Flashback*

"It's.... it's you....from the coffee shop...."

Though she couldn't see his face she felt him smile behind his mask and he stood and grabbed her pulling her up onto her feet and dragged her to a table. Forcing her back she found herself having to sit up on the table and watched with arousal and a bit of fear as he pulled his knife out and stuck the knife under her shirt and ripped open her shirt revealing her perfectly round and perky breasts and he ran the cold blade over her nipples causing her to moan quietly as they hardened. Unexpectedly he drove the blade into her side but noticed he made sure not to hit any vital organs or went too deep and she cried out in pain but found it was pleasurable at the same time. Groaning she blushed and looked at him as he smeared her blood on her nipples then watched him lift his mask as he leaned down and licked the blood off her nipples suckling and biting at the same time.

"F-fuck....ahhhh...."

She heard a chuckle of approval slip from him as he pinned her down and sucked on her neck biting as he moved down again. She tried to look down at him and see his face but he continued to keep his face hidden even though she knew who he was.

"I already know that you look like you may as well make it easier and take the mask off."

He stopped and glanced up at her then slowly removed his mask looking down at her. The look in his grey eyes causing flames of desire to flicker all across her body. Before she could say anything else he used the blade to tease her through her panties focusing on the sensitive bus of her clit. Gripping the bloody table she gasped and moaned pushing up to meet the blade. In one swift movement he stuck the blade under her panties and tore them apart leaving her bare to him. He licked his lips wanting to taste her and was about to just that when he heard whispers from the entity demanding he hurry it up.

Growling in aggravation he roughly flipped her over and gave her no chance to prepare herself when he rammed himself straight into her, cursing at how tight she was.

"Fuck...ah...oh God you're so big...mmm.."

Urging him to move she rolled her hips while pushing back against him and he settled himself down getting used to her tight heat surrounding his cock. This was going to be so good and so fucking quick.

He began thrusting aggressively and when she tried to look back at him he pinned her head down to the table and threw his head back enjoying the perfect fit. This woman was made for him. She was able to bring such pleasure to him, make him feel the way she did. At one time he hated it. Hated it so much he would purposely go after her in matches and kill her. Over time he found himself thinking about fucking her and making her his. Now that he had her, he wouldn't be letting her go anytime soon. Finding the will to open his eyes he looked down at her and saw her face was flushed red and her eyes were squeezed shut and she was slightly drooling as she panted and moaned beneath him. It was one hell of a sight that made his cock harder as he pumped into her harder and faster. Her moans got higher pitched and he felt her heat tightening around him and he knew she was close as his own prick was swelling up as he neared his release as well.

"Please....please....stab me again. Please."

A bit surprised he didn't falter with his thrusts but he held the knife and drove it into her opposite side from before and she bucked underneath him crying out as her pussy spasmed all around him taking him by surprise. "Shit!"

With no time to pull out he found himself exploding his seed inside of her and could only ride the high from his release as he pushed himself in deeper and allowed a couple more deep and rough thrusts. When he was able to breathe and came down from the high feeling he looked down at her sweaty, bleeding body and felt his cock twitch in arousal. He allowed her to look back at him as he pulled himself out of her. She whimpered in disappointment and he echoed that feeling silently. He wanted to stay inside her but he couldn't. He had to end this match. Picking her up after tucking his dick back into his pants, he walked to where he had passed the hatch earlier hearing the familiar and haunting song of its presence an dropped her beside it.

"Get out of here."

Panting she looked up at him and crawled into the hatch leaving him.

Leaning back against the wall he placed his arm over his eyes and grinned finding himself smitten with her and he knew it was going to be the death of him.

*End*

BONUS STORY:

Danny walked through the aisles of the hardware store his boots thudding against the concrete floor as he headed towards the check out. It was there he saw the bastard who dared to try and cop a feel of HIS woman. Lilyth had come to him before he entered a match and told him the guy had tried feeling her up when she had gone there the day prior to get him some more rope and he had never been so angry in his life. He had told her not worry and that he'd take care of it. Now he was here to do just that. The heavy set man at the register didn't even look up and started scanning his items and grabbed the package that was supposed to contain a knife and when he saw nothing in it he swallowed and looked up nervously at Danny seeing the ghost face mask. Danny tilted his head to the side waving and then he lunged at him not only slitting the man's throat but then driving the knife into the man's back. Satisfied with his work he took a picture with his camera and tucked the camera away and he whispered in the dying man's ear,

"You chose the wrong woman to feel up yesterday. She's mine and now won't have to worry about your perverted sorry excuse of a man bothering her."

Removing the knife from the fuckers back and he grabbed what stuff he had gotten while he was there and threw some money back behind him as he walked out of the store and headed back to where Lilyth was most likely waiting for him either naked or.....well, naked. Pleased with himself he went home and did indeed find her naked and ready to play. Before they engaged in anything however, he showed her the picture and she gasped covering her mouth.

"Oh Danny.....you killed him...? For me...?"

Meeting her gaze he smiled as he lifted up the bloody mask.

"Anything for my girl. No one touches you but me."

Giggling she tackled him and captured his lips in a kiss and sealing the deal of what they'd be doing the rest of the evening.

*Bonus End*

Thank you all so much for reading and I hope it is well received. In case y'all haven't noticed I do in fact have a thing for ghost face. Don't ask me why. The same reason some people have a thing for Freddy or Myers. I'm not here to judge 🤣

Like I said before I do not own the rights, characters, or any Dead by Daylight © content. The only thing I own is Lilyth. I hope y'all enjoyed that bonus segment too. I love the trailer for when they released ghost face so I decided to incorporate a story behind that scene. Again, I hope everyone enjoyed and please feel free to share but make sure to credit me. I don't appreciate my work being stolen. Thank you all so so much ❤️😘

-Mia. B

[plomujio]

Missing

I sat on a chair into the meeting room with Abby, Danny, Owen, Mel and Manny waiting for Isaac. I didn't eat this morning because I was late for the meeting so when Manny started to eat a burrito in front of for taunted me, I literally wrested his burrito from his hand and I took a small bite of it.

"Hey ! What the fuck are you doing glotona ?"

"Don't call me glutton ! I didn't eat because of you so you own me this burrito."

"It's not my fault if you didn't success to sleep well last night."

"Actually it is. I heard you with Emily during all the night. You remember that I live into the same apartment right ?"

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Abby laughing and when I stared at her, she stopped laughing and she murmured a little "sorry".

"Ah sorry, mi amiga but..."

Manny didn't have the time to finish his sentence because suddenly Isaac entered into the room. We all stood up and he looked at us silently.

"Sit down."

We all sat down and we waited for his explanation.

"First of all, I'm sorry for waking you up but we have a problem. Some of our soldiers saw 3 groups of Scar in sector 5, 7 and 3. They are coming towards us."

"How many are they by group ?"

"Around 10-15."

We all made grimaces. Waking up at 6 AM for killing 3 groups of 10-15 scars is not the best thing but we have no choice.

"Owen and Danny I want you on sector 5, Mel, Manny and Abby I want you on sector 3 and Zoya I want you on sector 7."

I stopped eating Manny's burrito and I looked at Isaac. I am totally surprised, he wants to send me at the sector 7 alone while for the sector 3 they are 3 to go. The others looked surprised too. It wasn't my first expedition alone but generally we were sent alone when we were looking for something or someone, not for killing a bunch of Scar.

"Wait why ? Shouldn't I have Abby or Manny or Mel with me ? Mel isn't even a fighter, she's a doctor. I don't get why they are 3 at sector 3 and at sector 7, there is just me."

"Because like you said Mel is in the first place doctor and then she is a soldier. I can't let her be in a sector alone or only with an other people, it's too risky and then it's because you are more than capable of killing a group of Scar. You have been in harder situations."

I wanted to talk but Abby beat me to it.

"I think Zoya is right. It's unsafe. Maybe you can ask to Nick or Leah for some extra help."

I could see that Isaac was losing patience so I interrupted Abby.

"I will do it."

Everybody looked at me like I was crazy except Isaac of course. Owen opened his mouth for start talking but I stopped him by putting my finger on my mouth for saying him to shut up. He looked at me and he closed his mouth. Isaac left the room without saying anything and we left the room too for going to the stable because we have to be quiet so we can't take the cars. They were all quiet until Mel breaks the silence.

"I don't get it honestly, it's like he wants you to get hurt. It is suicide."

"It is an order Mel."

I answered her. I agree with her but I couldn't disobey an order from Isaac.

"If something goes wrong..."

"Everything will be okay. I promise."

Mel looked at me and she hugged me. She and I were really close friends. We know since each other since 5 years and we immediately became friends. We entered into the stable. We all took our horse and we got on it. Mine was called Lucky. We went to the front gate and Abby was next to me on her own horse.

"Are you sure that you don't want me to come with you ? Isaac will never know."

I chuckled to myself and I looked at her. She looked worried. We were friends since long time too but it wasn't like with Mel. Our relationship is complicated, sometimes everything is good and we love to spend our time together and then the next day we are arguing. We don't have the same opinion on mostly situations which bring us to argue. Generally it's because I am carefree which she doesn't like but I think that she is too serious.

"Please tell me that you'll be prudent. I don't want to find you with a bite or a bullet into your brain."

"If it's into the leg it's okay ?"

Abby looked at me and I could see that she didn't want to laugh.

"I'm not joking Zoya."

"I'm not a kid Abby. I already did solo mission and everything was okay."

"Do not stop for looking at the stars."

"Have you finish mom ?"

Abby sighed of irritation and kept talking.

"You see this is exactly why I consider you like a kid."

"Because I make bad jokes when I'm stressed and embarrassed. Well I'm sorry if it's bother you that much."

"Yeah it's bother me because you can't take a situation seriously."

"So this is why you declined my offer ? Because I'm too childish ?"

"What are you talking about ? Which offer ?"

"The date. 3 weeks ago, I asked you. You don't remember ?"

Abby looked at her horse and it looks like she wanted to say something but she seems to be embarrassed.

"Of course I remember Zoya. Listen if you return and that you're still alive and that you're not into pieces, I will accept you offer, if it's still valid of course."

I laughed a little because I didn't except that coming from her but it was funny to see her that embarrassed. She looked at me disconcerted and she started to pat her horse for telling it to move. She certainly thinks that I'm laughing at her, so I started to talk for rectify the situation.

"Of course it's still valid Abby. I did not suddenly fall for Manny. Good luck."

I made a wink at her and she laughed. I patted my horse, he started to move and I passed in front of Abby for leaving the camp.

After some hours of galloping into Seattle, I finally reached the sector 7. Isaac was right, I could saw a camp, with a lot of Scars. I was hide behind a rock and then I suddenly heard a whistling. I know that they whistle when they see an intruder or when they don't. In this case it means that they didn't, which is kinda cool. I walked silently towards them and I stretched my bow to shoot a guy who was on duty. He fell behind brushes. I aimed at another guy and I shot him in the head. Let's be honest they are very bad guards. I came closer of the others by passing behind a brush. I could see a large woman with an axe, she reminds me of Abby but very less attractive. By moving forward, I saw 3 hanged persons. I approached them in silence and I recognized some WLF. I know all of them and I know that they weren't supposed to go to sector 7 which means that Isaac sent them here like he did with me. He knows that it is perilous but he still sent me here. I heard some footsteps coming from behind me. I turned around and I saw the large woman with an axe looking at me.

"Fuck."

I ran and I jumped above the brush and I shot another man in the head. I kept running but then suddenly I got an arrow into my leg. I mumbled and I hid behind a tree. I took the axe who was into the tree and I waited. I touched my wound, it was bleeding and I pulled the arrow out. I heard some branches breaking. I turn around and I tried to put the axe into the woman's head but she catches my arm and she gave me a kick in my injured leg. I screamed because of the pain and I fall on the the ground, she grabbed my hair and she put her axe to my neck. I took my knife who was in my pocket and I stabbed her in her thigh. She didn't move and suddenly I heard a woman talking.

"Bring her here."

The woman lowered her axe and I tried to run away but she caught my arm and she dragged me to the woman who was talking and the others scars. Their "boss" looked at me for a while.

"Hang her."

"What ? No! Hey ! Get out of me !"

I tried to struggled but the woman was stronger than me, she immobilized me and she took the rope who was next to her and she wrapped it around my neck and then she pulled on the rope and she hung me. I tried to struggle and catch the knife who was in the sheath on my thigh but the "boss" took it and threw it. I tried to breathe and to struggle but I couldn't do anything. I hoped that Abby or Manny or even Owen could come save me but it was hopeless. I couldn't see or heard anything because of the lack of air but at a moment, I felt that I was falling. I felt the ground against my cheek and I removed the rope who was around my neck. I took deep breaths and bit by bit, I could hear and see again. A man was coming next to me so I took my knife and I throw it inside his head. I turned around and I saw Abby who was choking the "boss" with her arms. I tried to stand up and I almost fell but Abby caught me before I fall. She wrapped my arm above her shoulders and she wrapped her arm against my waist then she caught my hand who was on her shoulders. She looked worried.

"Are you alright ?"

"Of course I am. What are you doing here ? Except saving my ass."

"I'm here because of you. I was worried Zoya."

"Why ? I'm not that late."

She helped me to get on her horse and she got on too. She called Lucky and the horse started to gallop for going to our camp.

"We were waiting for you since two days."

I looked at her confused. I didn't know that I was that late.

"Maybe it's because I looked at some butterflies on the way to Scar's camp. Maybe I looked at some stars too."

"What did I say to you ?"

"Oh please stop acting like you were my mom. I wouldn't like to date my mom."

I joked and she laughed a little, which made me happy and I kept talking to ignore the pain.

"So like I'm alive, you are obligated to go on a date with me."

I had a big smile on my face and I could see her smile too.

"Okay, I accept to go on a date with you."

"Yes !"

I congratulated internally and after a while I fall asleep on Abby's shoulder.

And at this moment I thought that maybe it was a good thing to almost die after all.