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viridwns · 1 month

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Can I get a fic about kidnapped reader and yandere Chrollo on a road trip of some kind and she’s like “let me get the aux” because let’s face it Chrollo’s taste in music is not gonna be road trip friendly and she’s just like jamming out to like Sexxy Red and Doja Cat and Flo Rida? Like I feel like that’s the complete opposite type of music he would listen to and she’s over there having a whole concert

Yan!Chrollo lucilfer x reader

Warning(s): mild cussing, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, one sentence is about implied dubcon

A/N: Quick drabble to try and get out of my writing slump. Too lazy to check for errors, sorry pookies.

WC: I honestly dk, I wrote this on my mobile😭

Antithetical

You loathed car rides with Chrollo. His 'work' forced him to travel a lot, meaning road trips that would usually exceed six hours with no rest stops or pee breaks to avoid being spotted by the wrong people.

Only if you were bursting—on the verge of kidney poisoning—would Chrollo force you to do your business in some random bushes alongside the road.

The close proximity of the metal box had you pushing yourself as far as you could against the door—enjoying the cool steel against your boiling skin.

It was well into summer, and even though you only wore a loose T-shirt from Chrollo and way too large gym shorts, your body didn't seem to regulate the heat.

Chrollo, the non-human that he is, didn't seem bothered by the blazing sun in the slightest. Wearing a white shirt neatly tucked into black, wide-legged trousers secured by a just as dark belt.

You could not spot one drop of sweat on his sickly pale skin.

The AC of the car was blasting in your face, helping a great deal to chase away the uncomfortable warmth. The noise it made was loud, but still not loud enough to overpower the radio.

Chrollo was a control freak through in through. You were used to it by now, but you hadn't expected it to extend all the way to what music was playing in the car.

Car rides with Chrollo were already unbearable. He was a macho driver, thinking you would fall head over heels if he parked with one hand, but even though he tried to look tough, he drove like a grandma—he didn't want any attention, getting pulled over or driving too noticeable could mess up his plans. He also had the need to have one hand rest on your thigh for the whole entirety of the ride, be it five minutes or fifteen hours. He loved prodding at your mind in these long hours; asking you deep and personal questions that would have you reeling by the end of the drive.

But the one thing that icked you the most was his taste in music.

These rides could be long—this one a nice thirteen hours from the last place he kept you—and sleeping could only cover half, if not less. You needed a distraction from the man next to you and his tongue; blasting some good tunes for example.

Für Elise wasn't one of those tunes.

Chrollo had a thing for classical music; befitting his dark academia style as he also loved to read older literature and collect antiques.

And you didn't mind it most of the time—you had to admit that some songs were enjoyable to listen to.

But not for thirteen hours on end.

With one-fourth of the journey done, no desire to sleep, and Chrollo humming along to his playlist, you finally had enough.

"Chrollo, can I have the aux?" You asked, head slightly turning to look at the raven haired man while still holding your place in front of the AC.

You had asked Chrollo this question multiple times, but he always found a way to go around it.

Chrollo squeezed your thigh, making you press yourself further against the door.

His eyes remained focused on the road, but his grin was a tell-tale sign that this was going to be a mind war again.

"And why do you want that?" He replied, turning the radio down a tat to hear you better.

You sighed.

"Because we've been listening to your music since the beginning of the trip." You sat up straight when Chrollo started nodding along with your words.

"Okay, but this music is relaxing. It doesn't distract me from the traffic around me. You don't want us to end up in an accident, no?" He said, sparing you a quick glance.

You pursed your lips.

It was hard to pinpoint where he used manipulation tactics exactly in your conversations.

You were able to pick it up rather quickly now, though.

You turned to him, lips in a thin line.

"Chrollo, this is torturing my ears." You pointed at the radio to emphasize your meaning.

He laughed.

"Don't be dramatic."

"Says you."

"Excuse me?"

"You're excused"

You gave him a sharp glare as he lightly rolled his eyes.

You had to give him a challenge of sorts. You knew he liked the thrill of those—the need to prove that he is capable of overcoming anything in his way.

"You're so dramatic about other people's music tastes. You hate listening to anything other than your own playlist. You don't even know other music genres," you started, crossing your arms over your chest and slumping in the passenger's seat.

As you were about to speak again, Chrollo interjected.

"Rock, Indie, metal, pop, electronic, blues, jazz—should I continue?"

He smiled as he faced you for a second before looking at the road again.

"Nice try, love, but implying that I don't know something is a dead give away of your schemes." Chrollo mused, patting your thigh.

He was mocking you, he saw right through your plan. You were stupid to think you could outwit him.

One day though.

One day you will.

You grumbled before slumping back in your seat, craning your neck to meet the frigid wind of the airconditioner.

The car was silent now except for the violins harmonizing on the radio. You were mere seconds away from taking the wheel and crashing the vehicle just for a few seconds of peace.

Chrollo sighed. You perked up at this. He wasn't too keen on already having you on edge this early in the trip. Every time that happened, you two would fight every day because you were petty like that.

He hands you his phone. You slowly take it with a quirked brow as your straighten your back.

"Fine, go ahead then."

You peer at him, suspicion running high.

"This isn't a trick?"

"No."

"I'm not getting in trouble if I change the music?"

"No."

"I don't have to give you a blow job while you're driving if I do this?"

"If you insist—"

You push the phone his way. Chrollo laughs before throwing you a wink. He nudges the device back with his shoulder.

"There are no catches here. I swear. Play your music."

You throw him uncertain glances as you open the music app; one of the only apps it had. He had bought this phone with you in mind. Shalnark modified it, so only Chrollo's number was on it, and no other numbers could be dialed. It also contained a few games. Like uno, you played that online with a few of the other phantom members. It kept you sane when you were locked in and alone for days on end.

You scrolled through your playlists, Chrollo only had one, and that was the 'liked songs' album.

The corners of your lips quirked upwards as you clicked your 'God better not see this one' list.

You could only feel a little victorious as you watched Chrollo's face sour when boss bitch by Doja Cat blasts from the radio.

You scream the lyrics in his face as you start moving your arms with the rhythm of the music.

It felt so good to just jam out to your songs for once. You ignored the pointed look of Chrollo when the next number that came on was CPR by CupcakKe.

A twinge of happiness tugged at your heart as you realized Chrollo would suffer a hundred times more in these few hours than you did and probably will do in all the carrides that have and will happen.

At least that was what you thought, but as you were about to bellow 'I save dick by giving it CPR' in your kidnapper's ear, he was looking at you with this love sick expression.

Eyes twinkly, stupidly handsome smile on his face and a total lack of concentration of his surroundings.

You felt your stomach lurch, and without a second thought, you put on the four seasons by vivaldi; almost breaking the screen in process.

You dropped the phone on your lap and crossed your arms. Your good mood only lasted three seconds before Chrollo decided to throw acid over it.

He gave you a quick peck on the cheek before returning his eyes to the road.

You felt stupid for buying his lies once again.

"You planned that, didn't you." It was more a statement than a question that came out of your mouth as you pushed your back against the cardoor.

Chrollo hummed as his hand found your thigh again, continuing his finger tapping along with the music.

You huff.

That was all you could do in response to him.

One thing was for certain: you would never play your music again, even if Chrollo begged you to.

#yandere chrollo lucilfer x reader #yandere chrollo x reader #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #hunter x hunter #chrollo lucilfer x reader #yandere chrollo #chrollo #yandere chrollo lucilfer #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #hxh

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avengershumanresources · 3 years

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blood 6 - Strange/Stark!Reader

Relationship: Dr. Strange/Princess!Stark!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Adult Themes, eventual smut, adult language, implied sexual violence, general violence

Synopsis: Reader is the daughter of the legendary King Anthony Stark, Uniter of Lands, The Iron Defender, and leader of the realm. When the king disappears during battle, hope is lost and he is presumed dead.

When the late king’s uncle, Obadiah, takes the throne until your brother Peter is of age, he quickly arranges a marriage for you with a wicked king in a neighboring kingdom.

With the realms politics in question, and rumors of an upcoming siege to overthrow Peter’s rule before it starts, you quickly learn who is loyal to the crown and who is not.

part 5 - part 7

Masterlist

Chapter Playlist

6 - a promise

Violet was uncharacteristically tight lipped as she dressed you the next morning. Part of you worried that the nosy maid had seen you on the balcony the night before, but you quickly remembered she’d gone to bed early after drinking too much.

She kept sending pitying glances in your direction, and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out why. Smoothing out your skirts, she grabbed the knife you’d hidden under your pillow and tied it securely at your side.

“For good luck?” she joked, though that pitying look crossed her feature as soon as the words left her mouth.

You’d been struck dumb, expression bewildered as to how she knew about the dagger.

“James,” she replied simply, patting the weapon for safe keeping.

The implication was both comforting and terrifying.

How much influence did her two friends truly possess within the castle walls?

Accompanying you to breakfast, Violet stopped you outside of the dining hall, hand tightening around your forearm.

“Please keep your head,” she whispered, glancing nervously around them. “No matter what you find on the other side of this door.”

It was an ominous warning, but you kept it in mind while she pushed open the door,’leading you inside.

For a moment, you were certain your heart had stopped working from pure horror alone.

King Brock Rumlow sat by your uncles side, laughing as a plate of meat and eggs was placed in front of him.

“My dear, it’s so wonderful you could join us,” Obadiah stood and motioned for you to sit across from Brock at the table. “Did you sleep well? I imagine you might have stayed up bubbling with excitement.”

“Uncle,” you greeted tensely, feeling Violet’s form freeze at the casual exchange. Keep your mind. You needed to stay calm.

Calm, even though your father’s murderer was smirking at you, only meters out of your grasp.

“Princess, I’m sure you’re familiar with King Brock Rumlow,” he motioned to the king who stood and bowed his head.

“Your highness,” he reached for your hand and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, lingering a moment too long for your comfort. “I’m sure this has been such a confusing and terrible time.”

You bit your tongue, swallowing down any backlash that stirred.

“Rest assured, King Brock has a very reasonable explanation for everything,” Obadiah invited the group to eat. You took your seat, trying to ignore the way Rumlow’s eyes devoured you. Like a lamb to slaughter, he looked positively ravenously at you.

“Your highness, it’s been a terrible misunderstanding,” he explained with a long sigh. “The Asgardians had been ordered to attack the border villages and I sent my men to help. There was skirmish and your father was murdered by that brutish Thor Odinson. They threw his body into the river before retreating. There was nothing we could do.”

Liar.

“You see? He was trying to defend the king,” Obadiah tilted his water goblet in your direction. “And to think, those barbaric Asgardians had the audacity to stand and mourn with you.”

Liar.

“I’m...” you never had been a very convincing actress (Peter had always told you so), but the performance you put on that morning would have rivaled the great Bard himself. “That is certainly distressing news.”

Obadiah eyed you, the reaction catching him by surprise.

“Brock has come to formally apologize for the confusion,” Obadiah started, watching you carefully for the slightest slip up. “He’s asked me for your hand as a means of reconciliation between the kingdoms.”

Your stomach dropped out, your lungs stopped moving, and you were certain both bellmen could hear your heart hammering anxiously against your chest.

Marriage... to that monster. The man you knew slayed your father. The man whose rumors of his late wife followed behind whispers of death and deceit.

Obadiah wanted to marry you off to him, for something. He had to have gotten something.

Your father out of the way, your brain supplied helpfully.

“With King Brock’s help, and the Kree army to the north, we will finally be able to stop those damned Wakandans and Asgardians from breaching our trade routes.”

Fingers tensing around your dining knife, you forced a smile on your face.

“Really?” you asked, throwing as much enthusiasm as you could stomach in the question. “Me? Married to a king?”

Obadiah paused, furrowing his brows, but Brock seemed unfazed.

“You’ll be my queen and we will rule this entire region,” he reached across the table and took your hands. “We can make the arrangements post haste.”

“Why not a fortnight from today?” Obadiah suggested, a cruel smile spreading over his face. “I’ll start the servants on things today.”

“If you insist,” Brock laughed, an empty sound that stabbed deep into you. “What say you, my dear?”

You turned to your uncle, a cold mask over your true thoughts.

“Must we wait a fortnight?” you asked, your lip jutting out in a pout. “Surely a more intimate ceremony can be put together in the next week?”

You could tell Obadiah was trying to guess your plan, the king trying to call your bluff but agreeing wholeheartedly.

“Such eager lovebirds,” he bellowed with another laugh. “Bring the wine, we have much to celebrate today.”

You managed to get through the breakfast, face hurting from all the forced and held smiles that fought against your cringing.

After the meal ended, you excused yourself to lay down for a a while, the excitement having tired you out.

Instead of your chambers, however, you hurried to the observatory, praying to the gods that Stephen was inside.

You found him curled on one of the cots, red cloak strewn over his shoulders, deep asleep. That peace was broken once you tried to quietly shut the door. His eyes flickered open and he took you in with a sleepy smile.

“Your highness,” he greeted, sitting up while you moved to sit across from him. Sensing your sour mood, he reached tenderly for your hands. “He told you.”

“You knew?” you asked, broken that he would keep such pertinent information from you.

“I found out early this morning,” he admitted. “I spent the evening trying to think of a way to make it right, but have kept coming short.”

“I don’t believe that,” you smirked toward a book open to a page detailing the effects of belladonna.

“I realized murder would be frowned upon,” he murmured. “And I think the court would be suspicious if the king and his allies turned up dead all at once.”

“They’re blaming Asgard for my father’s death,” you explained. “They intend to invade after the wedding.”

“How long do we have?” he asked, eyes scanning your face for a hint of good news.

“I uh, I may have made a mistake in that regard,” you replied, expression contorting in guilt. “Initially it was a fortnight, but Obadiah didn’t seem to believe that I would comply. So I suggested seven days.”

“Why would you need to be compliant?” he asked.

“I don’t know, Violet told me to keep my temper under control, so it seemed like the smart thing to do,” you threw your head back in exasperation.

“You aren’t wrong,” he replied, quickly explaining the dilemma Peter had outlined the night before. “But a week means our timetables must move up.”

He grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill, quickly scribbling a message and holding it in his palm. It disappeared in a poof of smoke.

“What was that?” you pressed, following him with your gaze when he stood up and paced the room.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he assured her. “Just trust me. There are many forces at work. Don’t make any more moves without first telling me. Promise me.”

You tilted your head, reading his exhausted expression and nodding your head slowly.

How could you not trust him?

He smiled, a sight that sent your heart rushing, in a good way. Moving toward him, you cupped his cheek and stood on your toes to give him a soft kiss.

“Careful princess,” he growled as the kiss became more heated and he stumbled back into one of the chaise’s, your body pressed flush against him. “Don’t start what you don’t intend to finish.”

The warmth inside of you screamed to finish the job, but his warning hit a more rational part of your brain and you pulled away in disappointment.

“Soon,” you promised in a terse whisper, wishing you could ducal your head into a cool pond.

“I have every intention of keeping you to that,” he replied, shifting slightly and adjusting the front of his robes with a sigh. His face flushed, pupils dilated.

Gods you could have had him then and there.

Another folded piece of parchment appeared on the table and you quickly snatched it up, reading over the familiar handwriting before Stephen could jump up from the chaise.

“You’re working with Loki?” you asked, holding up the paper. “You do know it’d be suicide for him to show his face in this kingdom.”

“The guard is on our side,” he explained briskly, grabbing the letter and reading it over. “We need to delay this as much as possible. If he challenges Brock to a duel, the law dictates the match must be honored.”

“Were you not the one worried about Brock’s sudden influx in power?” you asked incredulously. “He’s up to something sinister. Loki will get himself killed!”

“I said trust me,” he countered sharply. “Please, princess. I’m doing this all for you and we need a little more time. Besides, it will get Loki into the castle undetected by Amora.”

You’d almost forgotten about the enchantress. Brock spoke highly of her during breakfast and you’d had the pleasure of meeting the blonde haired woman at the end of the meal. Even from a distance, you could sense there was something wicked about her.

“You will be careful?” you asked, knowing that even if the reassurance was empty, it was something.

“We will do our best,” he promised quietly, both of you knowing full well he was lying.

(—)

Natalia hated wandering to this side of the forest. She knew she could reasonably fight off any ne’er do wells or rogues, but she also knew that the mystics and magic users liked to use the thick foliage coverings as a means of hiding from the public.

Not everyone could serve in a castle and villagers were fickle, superstitious folk.

Still, it was where Michelle had told her to meet with Wanda, the sorceress having passed the message long in hopes of the pair crossing paths.

“My cottage is just around the meadow,” Wanda chimed up, breaking Amat’s train of thought with an amused smile. “You’re early.”

“I wanted to make sure the area was secure,” Nat replied, her fingers dropping from the dagger she’d been about to pull. “Quite a way of passing along a message.”

“I needed to ensure its discretion, I apologize for the roundabout means,” she answered sincerely, moving toward a small cottage and opening the door for her guest. “We have much to discuss.”

“Couldn’t you have passed it along the princess or Strange?”

“It’s not yet the time for them to know,” she hummed, snapping her fingers and igniting the fire under a tea kettle. That had caught the assassin’s interest and she waited until Wanda continued. “You’re aware no body of the king was found?”

“They buried an empty box,” Natalia nodded, glancing at the teacup places in front of her. “The leading rumor is he was thrown in the river and the Kree are holding onto the remains.”

Wanda pulled a few herbs from her pantry, pulling the kettle from the fire with a wave of her hand and floating it over the red heads cup. The hot water fell from the air, passing through the herbs, and landing into the cup as a freshly brewed tea.

“There are many whispers about the fate of the great Iron Defender,” she agreed softly, taking a sip from her own cup with a satisfied smile. “But, what I want to tell you is the truth of the matter.”

“Which is?”

“I’m amazing at dramatic entrances,” a voice cracked, opening the front door of Wanda’s cottages and grinning at Natalia. “Natalia, it’s been quite some time since you were stealing rolls from the kitchen.”

King Anthony Stark himself stood before her, perfectly healthy and strong.

“How?” she blurted out with a wide eyed look between the pair. “Clint saw you pierced through the chest with an arrow.”

“Did he?” Wanda asked, a twinkle of crimson flickering through her eyes. “The men saw what the king wanted them to see.”

“I needed to ensure my enemies thought I was dead,” he explained, settling at the table across from her. “I knew Brock was planning something across the border and once Odin warned me that Amora had taken the place of Mordo, I needed to act to protect the kingdom and my family.”

“You need to remove Obadiah from the throne, he intends to-,” Nat started but Tony nodded slowly at her words.

“I’m well aware,” he stated. “I knew he’d been corresponding with Brock for some time and that there would be a plot against me. I needed to make sure my enemies were all exposed in a fell swoop, but Wanda mentioned the engagement and I was forced to move my plans forward.”

“Plans?”

“I had hoped to move when Obadiah refused to give up the throne on Peter’s birthday,” he explained. “But, given what Brock intends to offer for my daughter’s hand, we can’t wait any longer.”

“What do you mean?” Natalia furrowed her brows. “You don’t mean to move on him now, do you? That’d be madness, not without our allies.”

“Who said I didn’t have allies?” he grinned back at her. “Black Widow, you’re not the only one with a large web. I’ve secured Wakandan and Asgardian support, as well as the support of the southern Kree empire. Steve has been working under my orders to determine the loyalty of the guard. Everything is ready to be put in motion, so long as Brock doesn’t mobilize his troops before the wedding.”

“Did you expect this?” she asked, dumbfounded by all of the information.

“I had expected to deal with them separately, but this makes it convenient,” he shrugged. “But I need you to ensure the safety of the princess and my family.”

“It’s being taken care of,” Natalia replied. “Strange and the others have come up with a plan to get them all to safety. The queen and Morgan will be moved to Kamar-Taj and the princess will be taken to Stephen’s family home.”

“Has he come to his senses, yet?” he asked with a snort.

“Very recently,” Natalia chuckled. “So he has even more to lose with a successful marriage. I’ve never seen him quite this motivated.”

“And what of Peter?”

“He wants to fight,” she explained. “The others are encouraging him to wait, but already some men have sworn allegiance to him. Some of the major houses are beginning to start preparations for civil war.”

Tony considered her words, fingers twirling around the edges of his beard as she spoke.

“This is good then,” he decided. “With Peter rallying the families against Obadiah, he has less claim to the throne.”

“Unless Obadiah catches wind and has him executed on the spot,” Wanda supplied dryly. “We must continue to work discreetly.”

“We need someone inside of the walls to help coordinate from within,” Tony explained.

“Why can’t Wanda do it?” Nat asked and Wanda let out a frustrated sigh.

“Obadiah is keeping out all magic keepers except Stephen and Amora, since he is the Master Sorcerer of the castle and she’s a royal guest,” she shook her head. “It’s an effort to prevent any threats against the royal family.”

“The irony was not lost on us,” Tony added with a small smirk. “I can pay you handsomely- after I reclaim my throne.”

“Wouldn’t that be humiliating?” Natalia teased. “All this work and you lose the throne in the end?”

“That ultimately depends on what you say,” he urged and she bowed her head, offering a hand to shake.

“I want a large parcel of land,” she insisted. “And a title.”

“What about James?”

“I suppose he’ll need a title too,” she paused. “Perhaps another parcel for him as well?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

(---)

“It’s quiet,” you whispered, back against cool grass, fingers intertwined with Stephen’s as the two of you gazed up at the night sky.

“Mandatory curfews,” he murmured. “We’d do well not to attract the guard.”

“Then we’ll just have to be quiet, won’t we?” you rolled toward him, propping yourself up on her elbow and looking down at him with a sly grin.

“We must be absolutely silent,” he agreed, leaning up and cupping your face. Slowly he pulled you closer until you were practically onto of him. Pulling you even closer, you tumbled a ways down the small hill before stopping with a soft thud on the ground below.

Exchanging bewildered looks, you both burst out laughing. You reached forward to pluck a few leaves out of his hair when he caught you by the wrist and kissed you passionately. A moan escaped you when he nibbled on a more sensitive part of your neck, the chill sending shivers everywhere.

“Don’t do that,” he warned, the nibbles becoming small bits, his kiss becoming more desperate and hungry. “I can’t promise to control myself.”

“Then don’t,” you managed through a whimper when he slipped his hands under your corset. He teased, fingers lightly maneuvering over the sensitive skin. You were about to rip the damned thing off yourself when he stopped.

“Are you trying to be cruel?” you asked, face drained of blood and clothes disheveled.

“Something’s coming-,” he scrambled to his feet, drawing up a portal and sealing it shut just before a blast of fire struck. “Someone knew we were there.”

“Impossible,” you shook your head. “You’ve disguised your magic, and the wards around the room are some best rune work I’ve seen in ages.”

He paused, catching snippets of what you were saying.

They hadn’t tracked his signature- they’d tracked yours.

He grabbed your wrist and wrapped his palm around it, muttering a spell and pulling away.

The rune Loki had cast over you had almost faded away.

“What is-?” you started but he was scrambling across the room looking for something to prick the end of his finger to get a little blood.

Spying a needle on your armoire, he grabbing the tiny object and prodded his fingertip, a small bead of blood appearing.

Approaching, he frowned in thought. He needed to be careful. Too powerful and the seidr wouldn’t be able to protect you. Too weak and the seidr would eat through too quickly and its uncontrolled power in your untrained body could wreak devastation the kingdom over.

“Why are you renewing a seal?” you asked, recognizing the symbol on your wrist with pointed interest.

Why were you such a dedicated student? You’d read almost all the texts he had read in his life, often asking thoughtful questions about the material he hadn’t thought of.

This was a basic power sealing rune that had been added on and changed slightly in terms of the magic involved.

“What are you trying to seal, Stephen?” you repeated tersely, eyes narrowed at him.

(---)

7- a king

TAG LIST (message to be added!):

@ayamenimthiriel @ladynothing

@im-a-bi-disaster-help @idkwhatthisislol

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radiantroope · 4 years

Text

Lonely Heart || Rafe Cameron

Chapter Four - Tainted Love

chapter summary: Janelle comes over to talk and starts to show her true colors. You and John B. go surfing where he gets you to open up to him about your mom. An unlikely friend saves you from falling into what seems like a trap.

warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of familial death, a beer is mentioned

word count: 4.3k+

author’s note: yeah uhhh don’t hate me for this lol. i wanna fight her too. as always, please leave me some feedback and let me know if you’re enjoying this series <3

read chapter three here!

series playlist | series masterlist | main masterlist

You didn’t leave the house much. You didn’t want to risk running into Rafe or Janelle anywhere. Topper had dropped by a couple of times just to check on you and see how your mother was doing. Sarah was over the most, refusing to let you waste away in your room by yourself. She was going back to school at Chapel Hill, splitting her time between the mainland and the island. You’d tried to insist she didn’t have to come over every other day, but she wasn’t taking no for an answer. ‘You’re my best friend. You can try and shut everyone else out, but not me.’ she’d said.

Your mother had an appointment that day to have a brain MRI. They wanted to check the tumor and make sure the chemotherapy was helping slow the growth or at least keep the tumor at bay for the time being. Her form of cancer was aggressive and there was a chance the chemo would only work for so long. Eventually the tumor would stop reacting to it and continue growing rapidly. Your parents told you the visit was boring and you’d be in the waiting room the whole time so they made you stay home.

You stared at the fresh cup of tea in front of you, robotically dipping the tea bag in and out of the scalding water. Your mind was consumed with thoughts of Rafe, as much as you tried not to think about him. You couldn’t comprehend why he’d ghosted you and started dating your best friend. Was he ashamed of loving her and feared you’d think you were replaced? Truthfully, it is how you felt. He pushed you out and made more room for Janelle in his life, letting her fill a place you thought would always be yours.

Your whole perspective on your life was forced to change. The dreams and goals you’d had when you were younger, picturing Rafe by your side, you’d instead achieved and chased by yourself. You went to college parties and drowned yourself in booze to ignore how wrong it felt being there. You had mindlessly hooked up with fraternity douchebags, hoping it would fill the void in your chest. It never did. You had tried to go on dates with guys who were so sweet and nothing short of gentlemen, but none of them managed to wow you. They weren’t rough around the edges with just enough attitude to keep you in check. They were soft, men you could walk all over and they’d let you. They weren’t Rafe. You hated yourself for comparing them all to him, but he was all you’d ever known. He was all you ever wanted.

Guilt started eating away at you for focusing so much on the boy who unknowingly broke your heart. Your mother was dying for God’s sake. You should be putting all of your attention on her and making sure she was happy in what was going to be the last year of her life. You were upset with yourself for being so angry with her for not telling you about the engagement. It wasn’t their fault your closest friends were a couple of backstabbers.

The shrill ring of the doorbell ripped you from your thoughts. You abandoned the now cold cup of tea at the coffee table, sock clad feet sliding across the hardwood as you moved through the house. You glanced down at the oversized shirt you were wearing, biker shorts poking out underneath. You had a feeling your unruly hair was sticking out in all directions from the bun it was in but couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

The moment you ripped the front door open, you tried to slam it right back closed. Bile rose in your throat as you pushed against their body, growling, “Get the fuck off my porch.”

“I’m here to talk, Y/N, please!” Janelle protested, trying to look at you through the crack in the white painted door without having it crushed. “Just give me ten minutes.”

You hesitated, pausing against the door. Words couldn’t describe how hurt you were that she’d kept this from you for years. She had been one of your best friends. She knew things about you that your own parents didn’t know — that Rafe himself didn’t know. Could it hurt to at least try and hear her out?

You finally pulled the door open, avoiding her striking green eyes and waving your arm out to let her in. You shut the door loudly behind her and moved to the couch. “Ten minutes,” you stated, sitting at one end while she took a spot on the other.

“How’s your mom?” she started, giving you a sad smile.

You shrugged once, responding monotonously with, “Fine.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” Janelle said softly, seemingly sincere as she stared at her lap. You kept quiet and didn’t show any change in emotion on your face, so she continued, “I should have told you. The second things changed with Rafe and I, I should have come to you about it.”

You closed your eyes for a moment and breathed in deeply as to collect your thoughts. There were a million things you could say to her right now, most more unpleasant than others. You sighed, “You knew how much I loved him, Janelle. You were the only person I told. Do you understand how much of a slap to the face this is?”

“I know. I broke, like, the first rule in girl code. I suck,” she replied, shaking her head a bit. She had been avoiding your eyes but looked back over, “We didn’t expect it, you know. It just kind of… happened. Things were really rough for both of us for a while and I guess it made us closer. We were able to connect on a deeper level.”

You stared at her, unable to read the expression on her face. You couldn’t pinpoint one sort of emotion swimming in her eyes. A weight settled on your shoulders, something within you feeling unnerved.

“Do you love him?”

There it was, a smile. The first real emotion the dark haired girl had shown you since she stepped foot in the house. Did she even care about you at all? Did she care that this was ripping you apart inside? “Of course I do. I wouldn’t have said yes to marrying him if I didn’t,” her response lit a fire within your chest, spreading through every nerve ending in your body.

“Then why did you never seem interested in him before?” you questioned, watching the creases form between her eyebrows. “You chased after Kelce for two years without giving up. You never once gave any indication that you were remotely interested in Rafe until I left, apparently.”

You were simmering in pent up anger and betrayal, jealousy sitting just below the surface. Though, you kept yourself calm, refusing to let those emotions through. You knew Janelle like the back of your hand and you knew there was more to this. You wanted to push her until she said exactly what she was thinking. The slow contort of her face into an angry scowl proved to you that it was working.

“You don’t just wake up one day and decide, hm, I’m in love with this person now, Janelle. How do you even know if what you have is real?”

“Well maybe if you weren’t so conceited and wrapped up in yourself you would have noticed,” Janelle spit, the olive toned tan to her face turning a light shade of pink. “Everyday I had to listen to you bitch and moan about how he’d never love you back. All you did was cry because you were too scared to tell him how you felt. I always loved him but you always made everything about you.”

You blood boiled under your skin. Your face became hot and you clenched your hands in your lap to keep them from shaking. Your bottom lip was sure to start bleeding soon with how tightly you bit it between your teeth.

“You weren’t there for the fights with Ward, when he called him names and made him feel less than. You weren’t there for the nights he got black out drunk because he wanted to forget. You weren’t there for the fucking cocain addiction that almost ruined his whole life,” Janelle seethed, leaning closer to you with every word she spoke.

Your jaw clenched painfully as you grit out, “How was I supposed to be there when he’s the one who cut me out of his life?”

“He cut you out of his life to send you a message, Y/N!” Janelle shouted through a laugh, a condescending smile settling on her lips. “He was so happy when you moved to California because he was finally free! He wasn’t being suffocated by you anymore!”

“That’s not true,” you whispered, shaking your head quickly. Your mind flashed back to your going away party. The soft voices and gentle touches. The way he looked at you like you were the only person he had eyes for — at least that’s what you thought.

“It is, and the sooner you accept that, the better. Rafe doesn’t love you,” the raven haired girl stated. Your glossy eyes flickered to hers. The bright green in them was gone and replaced with a cold, mossy color. “He never loved you. He never will love you the way you’re so desperate for him to. You moving was the best thing that ever happened to him — to us.”

You stayed seated on the couch as she got up and slung her entirely too large of a purse over her shoulder. Your eyes were full to brim with tears that you refused to let fall in front of her. You wouldn’t let her see how much this was ruining you. This wasn’t the girl you’d met back when you were ten years old, it was a completely different person. Or maybe she had been this person the whole time, and you had just been a pawn in some sick game. Only did you look at her when she opened the front door.

“And Y/N,” the sweet tone replaced the venomous one she used only moments ago. “Stay away from him. I don’t need you messing with his head before the wedding.”

The door slammed and you sat there, allowing the tears to flow down your flushed cheeks. You didn’t sob, you didn’t scream and throw things around like most would have thought. It was just a silent flow of saltiness that felt never ending. A numbing feeling came over you as you let Janelle’s words absorb into your head. Had you really been so blind by your own love for Rafe you never saw hers? Had you been so stupid to think the Kook Prince would fall for someone as ordinary as you?

You don’t know if it was only minutes or maybe hours that you sat on the couch, blankly staring at the wall. Eventually, you finally pulled yourself up and located your phone. There was one thing you knew would help you escape the depression spiral you were heading down. And there was one person you could call who would be willing to do it with you — despite hardly knowing you at all.

“Hello?” John B. sounded utterly confused as to why you were calling him.

“H-Hey, I uh, I know this is weird,” your voice was dry and you cleared your throat, “Do you, i dunno, maybe wanna go surfing with me?”

—

You sat on top of your board out where the water was calmer, watching John B. pull off an intricate trick with his own surfboard. You hummed in thought, wishing you could pull off some of the moves he did. You tended to just catch the biggest wave you could and ride it out for as long as possible. You’d picked up some things over the years, but just riding out a long wave was your favorite feeling. You loved the rush, like you were flying.

“You’re really good,” you complimented the brunette as he made his way back out to you.

“Thanks,” John B. chuckled, moving to straddle his board just as you were, “You’re pretty good at riding out the big ones. I bet I could get JJ to teach you some things. He’s better than I am.”

You laughed softly and shook your head, brushing your wet hair behind your back, “JJ would rather scrub Heyward’s boat to the bone than hang out with me.”

“He’s not that bad,” the Routledge boy tried to defend his friend. “Well, not anymore. He’s more… tolerant.”

You hummed in response, staring out into the open water where the edges curved at the horizon. The sun was beginning to go down, casting an orange glow over everything around you. John B. watched you, seeing the gears turning in your head. He’d barely seen you smile all day and from what Sarah had told him, surfing always made you happiest.

“You wanna talk about it?”

You turned to look at him, his soft hazel eyes saying It’s okay, you can trust me. You sighed heavily and averted your gaze to the purple and white board below you. You could feel that you wanted to cry again but your eyes remained dry, like you had nothing left in you. The hollow feeling in your chest felt like it was going to swallow you whole.

“You sure you want my demons weighing on your conscience?” you asked playfully, the corners of your mouth upturning slightly.

John B. smiled softly, shrugging a bit, “We all have our demons, Y/N. Some worse than others.”

You nodded and eyed him for a moment longer before asking, “What was it like.. to lose your dad?”

The curly haired boy sucked in a breath. It had been four years but it never got easier. His dad was all he had and then he was alone, still a child having to grow up entirely too fast. He let out a soft breath, “It was hard. I didn’t know what happened to him for nine months, and then to find out he was dead? It was like a part of me died with him.”

You nodded, silently listening along as he opened up to you.

“It was painful and ugly. I lashed out at my friends… It’s still painful sometimes. I try to think about the good things though. The fishing trips on his boat, going to work with him.. His horrendous endeavour to find The Royal Merchant,” he paused to laugh at the memory, and you did too. You’d heard enough stories about him and his friends searching for the lost gold as well. “I know he’s still with me. He watches over me. Your mom will too.”

You nodded again, bottom lip quivering slightly. Your voice was strained as you spoke, “It fucking sucks seeing her like this. Everyday I feel like I can tell she’s getting worse.”

“I regret not being around more the last couple of years. If I had known this was going to happen I would have done so many things differently.”

John B. waded his board closer to you, resting his hand on yours that was gripping your knee. His eyes were remorseful, lips turned down in a frown. His father’s death was sudden and unexpected. He understood your pain but he also had no idea how to handle knowing the inevitable was coming. He couldn’t imagine watching someone you love slowly slip away.

“Don’t think about that. Don’t beat yourself up for what you didn’t do or wish you did. Spend this time reminding your mom how much you love her and helping make these last moments she has some of the best. Make more memories with her that you’ll look back on and smile at,” he told you, squeezing your fingers softly.

You met John B.’s eyes again and nodded, giving him a soft smile. It was nice to talk to someone who didn’t exactly know you on that personal level but could also relate to you. He had experienced a loss like you were about to and it was refreshing to hear how he coped with it and get some advice. You wondered exactly how much Sarah had told him but it was nice that he was judging you. Maybe years ago, he would have thrown it back in your face, called you a snob and any other insult he could think of. Maybe it was dating Kook that changed his outlook, or he’d grown up and matured and realized the stupid rivalry wasn’t worth being a complete dick all the time.

John B. drifted away from you again when he saw you seemed more relaxed, he looked out where the sun was starting to dip below the horizon. He offered, “Why don’t you come back to the Chateau with me? Sarah’s coming over and I know she’s dying to get you to hang with us.”

You contemplated for a moment, unsure how inviting the other Pogues would be to another Kook in their company. But for once, getting out and being around other people sounded a lot better than going home and burying yourself in Ben and Jerry’s while binge watching a show you’d already seen. So you nodded and smiled, “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

—

Rafe didn’t listen to Topper’s advice of leaving you alone. He couldn’t pretend like seeing after all of these years wasn’t a sucker punch to the gut. He kept replaying everything over the course of five years in his head. He couldn’t stop thinking about what he could’ve done differently. The different outcomes of his actions replayed in his head like a broken record. What could have happened if he hadn’t cut you out of his life? Would you have ended up together in the end, despite the distance? Should he have told you how he felt that day, when it felt like your gentle touch was the only thing holding him together?

He traveled out onto the South side and watched from his truck as you and John B. left the beach. He thought about getting out and speaking to you there but instead he watched from the shadows as you strapped your surfboard to the top of your mother’s car and drove away behind the Volkswagen.

Against his better judgement, Rafe followed you. He stayed far enough behind that you wouldn’t recognize his truck. He knew his way to the Routledge boy’s house anyway. Many a night’s he had gone there when he was younger and looking for trouble, or when he got older, to pick up his sister when she didn’t have a ride. He knew that’s where you were heading. He would pretend it didn’t bother him slightly that you were hanging out with the Pogues. He’d grown more accustomed to seeing them around but the roots of the rivalry were still deeply embedded within him. He still thought they were at the bottom of the food chain.

You didn’t think much of the headlights that pulled up behind your car, thinking Sarah had just arrived. You dug around in the backseat, trying to gather the things that had spilled from your bag. The headlights shut off and it was quiet for a moment. You heard John B. curse softly and your heart nearly stopped when you heard the voice.

“Sup, John B.?” Rafe’s gruff voice filled the air, nodding his head at his sister’s boyfriend.

“Rafe,” the Routledge boy greeted back, an edge to his tone.

You slowly removed yourself from the car, turning to face the last person you wanted to see, next to Janelle. You hated the way your heart skipped a beat when his azure irises met yours. He swallowed thickly, waiting for you to make the first move, which you did.

“What are you doing here?”

“I- I uh,” Rafe’s hand came up to rub the back of his neck, eyes leaving yours to stare at the ground. “I don’t know. I wanted to see you.”

You scoffed and shook your head, reaching back into the car to get your bag. He hesitantly moved closer and continued, “I’m worried about you, Y/N. I know things are weird right now and I’m sorry about your mom but I-”

“Don’t,” you snapped, standing upright and slamming the car door, “Don’t pretend like you fucking care.”

“I do care. I just want to talk.”

“You had five years to talk, Rafe!” you shouted, voice shaking as you did so. You bit the inside of your lip and begged your body not to betray you. You didn’t need him seeing you cry. “I waited and waited for you to talk to me. I asked myself ‘why’ for years! You’ve moved on with your life, that’s fine, I can accept that. But don’t expect me to be a part of it anymore. Just go back to pretending I don’t exist.”

Even from a distance Rafe could see the glaze to your eyes. He could see your body shaking as you tried to keep yourself composed. It looked like you were about to fall apart in front of him and it made his chest ache. You always were the one to pretend to be strong for as long as you could until it crushed you. He shook his head and tried again, “Y/N, please, you don’t understa-”

“Yo, Rafe! Didn’t know you were stopping by!” you turned to see JJ Maybank bouncing down the porch steps, an arrogant smirk painted on his chapped lips. His unruly hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards baseball cap. He was shirtless, flaunting his physique in only a pair of grey cargo shorts. He’d heard you yelling and figured he may as well come investigate.

“Maybank,” Rafe greeted the Pogue stiffly, a lot more tense than he’d been around John B.

The younger blonde boy threw his arm around your shoulders as he came to your side, catching you by surprise. You glanced up at him, but his eyes never left Rafe, his smirk widening. You didn’t see the look of anger that flashed across your former best friend’s face, a fire igniting in his eyes — JJ caught it though, and he was going to run with it.

“I heard about the engagement, man, congrats!” JJ spoke enthusiastically and you had to resist rolling your eyes. You suddenly had the urge to throw up like on the Druthers, but you swallowed the feeling down. Your eyes met Rafe’s again as JJ kept going, “Don’t you have, like, a cake tasting to get to or something?”

Rafe’s hands curled into fists, knuckles cracking as he squeezed. If anyone knew how to get under his skin in just the right way, it was the Maybank boy. He breathed out slowly through his nose, choosing to ignore the comments from the Pogue. He pleaded with you, “Can we just talk, real quick? Please?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, bro. Y/N’s really busy right now,” JJ answered for you, tilting his head to look down at you, “Aren’t you, bubs?”

You stared up into the tan blonde’s indigo eyes that were screaming at you not to go to him. You knew he was trying to help you, but you weren’t friends. You didn’t understand why he came to your defense so quick. He could have just let you stand out there and allow Rafe to rope you back in like you knew he could.

“She can speak for herself,” Rafe snapped at JJ who looked back at him with a raised eyebrow. You hadn’t moved out from under his arm so clearly you had no interest in going to the Kook.

“Go home, Rafe,” you said, turning with JJ to walk up to the Chateau. “Wouldn’t want to suffocate you anymore,” you took a dig, repeating what Janelle had said to you earlier in the day.

Rafe stood there, watching as you walked to the porch, wrapped in someone else’s arms — someone he despised. His heart pounded harder in his chest the further you got away from him, like you were taking it with you. He silently got back in his truck and backed out, tires squealing as he peeled off down the road. He gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles, breathing raggedly. Wouldn’t want to suffocate you anymore. Those words bothered him, knowing he’d heard something like that before but he couldn’t recall when, where or more importantly, who.

“Well that couldn’t have been anymore awkward,” John B. stated as he led you into the house.

You’d expected JJ to drop his arm the second Rafe was gone, but he didn’t, guiding you into the kitchen for you to put down your bag. You sighed heavily and rubbed your face with the hand not pinned to your side, “I’m sorry about that. And thank you, JJ, you didn’t have to do all that.”

The boy hummed and waved his hand, finally stepping away from you and moving to the fridge, “The guy’s an asshole and needs to learn he can’t always get what he wants. Especially after what happened on daddy dearest’s boat.”

You felt your face flush, looking over at John B. who held his hands up as if he was surrendering, “I didn’t say anything, swear.”

“Word travels fast ‘round these parts,” JJ clarified, walking back over and handing you a beer. He sat down in one of the chairs at the kitchen table, patting the one beside him for you. “C’mon, tell your good pal JJ what the Prince fucked up this time.”

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butterfly-buck · 4 years

Text

y’all wanted this apparently, so uh here. please keep in mind that this was written like.. a year ago, so it might be slightly trashy despite me editing what i can, but uh..

here’s the first part/prologue(??) of Absconded, a Ninjago/Little Nightmares crossover.

It had always been his dream to become the Green Ninja. Ever since his first master, Wu, had told him he had the potential, from his youth all the way until his death, a full nine years after Sensei Wu had found him outside the monastery. Morro had put his all into everything he did to prove he was the chosen one.

He'd trained so hard every day, gave himself challenge after challenge, trial after trial, desperately trying to prove he was worthy of the position. He would spend sleepless nights, ran laps until he collapsed onto his knees, even fasted for days as he trained, preparing himself for every possible situation. A man once told him when he was still living on the streets that a person is only as strong as their weakest links, so he kept pushing his limits every day to become stronger, better, great enough to become the chosen one.

The hunger in him had only carried on into his afterlife, accompanied by an excessive amount of untamed confusion, anger and a sense of injustice. The second he'd arrived in the Cursed Realm, he'd screamed his frustrations for all the cursed souls to hear, crying out that Wu made him believe he was actually special, that destiny was bullshit and he wasn't supposed to be dead yet.

The Preeminent had taken an instant liking to the raven-headed boy, evident by the loud purrs rumbling in the beast's throat, and the suffering of the souls chained inside her belly easing just a bit. She didn't hesitate to temp the one-track-minded teen with sweet promises of becoming her number two, that he would be her Green Ninja when she gained control of the Sixteen Realms.. as long as he devoted his complete loyalty to her alone.

The answer was an easy yes for Morro.

Seventeen years, he waited - they waited. The minute a window into Ninjago was opened, Morro seized the opportunity without a moment of hesitance.. and did so once more the minute he learned the true Green Ninja's whereabouts. He'd possessed the night watchman of a museum, stole the Allied Armor of Azure, lured Lloyd into a secluded room and took control of the Green Ninja's body.

The plan, admittedly, could have worked with any of the ninja. But the sudden rush of power, the ability to move mountains with a snap of his fingers, to go where he pleased and take orders from no one was far too much to resist. How could he say no to the green gi after all these years?

However... the minute Morro was in Lloyd's head, he realized that something was.. off... regarding Lloyd's physical state alone. A large wave of fatigue had almost swept him off his feet, he'd barely managed to stay upright, blinking the exhaustion away as best he could with the mutter, "Jesus, has this kid ever slept a day in his life?

He already knew the answer... Lloyd's thoughts gave him the swiftest response.

Nightmares and insomnia ever since he'd gotten his green power, huh? Poor kid. Or, at least, poor for Morro, considering now that he'd taken control of the boy's body, he'd experience the exact same thing. No matter, the insomnia would make it easier to force him to stay awake and travel on, much easier than someone who didn't spend their nights staring at their bedroom ceiling did.

And easy to stay awake it was, as both spirits of that body forced themselves not to drift off. Each time Morro felt Lloyd's eyelids start to droop, a surge of fear would well in his chest. It took Morro by surprise the first time it happened; Lloyd's control over his own body had returned just for a moment for his hand to fumble into his pocket for his phone, slap a pair of earbuds in his ears and blast music just to keep him awake.. before the short rush of adrenaline would wear off and Morro would be in control again.

The first time it happened, Morro was too shocked to react, and blatantly disregarded that it even happened. The second, he had gotten a little frustrated and pulled the buds out of his ears, ignoring the cackling and teasing from his friends about how weak his possession skills were (before he'd snapped at them to silence their snickering, of course).

It wasn't until the fifth time it happened that he'd finally rolled his eyes and gave in, keeping the earbuds in his ears at all times playing music at a low volume. If Morro was going to keep his control over Lloyd's body, he figured just let the kid have this one thing.

Besides.., it wasn't as if Lloyd had bad taste. Morro would have expected him to be the type to listen to cheesy pop or something, but instead most of his playlist consisted of old classics like AC/DC, Blue Öyster Cult and other rock artists. He'd even found himself nodding along to the beat of Back in Black and Highway to Hell, and despite Lloyd's blatant hatred for the raven-haired ghost, Morro always felt a burst of Lloyd's sheepish amusement as he did so.

Apparently it was originally Cole's favorite playlist.. The Earth Ninja didn't have nightmares like Lloyd, but he did have insomnia as well. Looking through Lloyd's memories, it seemed none of the ninja routinely got a full night's rest, with the exception of Zane, of course. Jay was always up playing videogames, and Kai... Well, Lloyd walked in on him with his date once, and.. Well, Morro preferred not to look too deeply into that memory.

Playing music was a fearful force of habit, Morro figured, that he didn't pay much mind to either way.. after he lowered the volume so he could actually hear what his travel companions were saying, that is. Whatever Lloyd was afraid of - he'd scoured the young ninja's mind, but it seemed as though not even Lloyd knew exactly what it was. Perhaps his mind just chose to forget because the memory was too horrible to not suppress. - That, or he'd somehow already figured out how to hide it from Morro.

Either way, it was apparently terrifying enough to make the young blond so deathly afraid of falling asleep that he'd gain enough strength to fully push back Morro's possession, if only for a few seconds....

It wasn't until the fourth day of absolutely no sleep that he finally collapsed before either of them could do anything about it. He was halfway up the Wailing Alps, a dangerous place to pass out. Much to both Lloyd's and Morro's luck, however, it happened at the Hanging Temple, a flat surface where he wouldn't fall off the face of the mountain.

He had been peering over the edge, watching the four mechs climbing in their wake with a scowl stuck to his face.

"So they are following us," he hissed.

"They'll never catch us," Soul Archer responded confidently, when Morro had felt a sudden wave of exhaustion crash over his body. A half frustrated, half exhausted exhale escaped his lips.

"What is it, Morro?" Bansha asked, flying just a bit closer to her debilitated leader.

"Lloyd grows weaker the further we go. His fear of falling asleep is putting an enormous strain on his body. On top of that, Lloyd's spirit continues to fight.. my possession.." He grimaced under the bandana hiding his face from the crisp chill, blinking rapidly to ignore the sudden wave of fatigue. His limbs felt so heavy, and he almost wished he could just shut his eyes and let the peace of sleep wash over him.. God how he was tempted. "He grows stronger while his body weakens me.." Another tired short exhale.

Bansha hissed in annoyance. "You've already lost the Allied Armor.. We cannot fail to secure the Sword of Sanctuary."

"We could go faster if you abandon Lloyd's body," Archer suggested impatiently. "This trivial exhaustion does not affect us ghosts."

Morro turned his mech around and slipped out of the giant suit. He grit his teeth and squinted his eyes in a tight grimace as his feet landed on the snow with next to no sound. Bansha floated to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Our Master would want us to-"

Morro slapped her hand away and hissed, "The Preeminent is not here, I am.. G-guh.. and need I remind you... only a Spinjitzu Master can find.. the Tomb..." He stumbled forward a few steps. "If I leave.. Lloyd's body now.., the sword would be.. useless.. agh.." He let out an inaudible curse under his breath as he teetered on his feet and collapsed to his knees with a grunt. "Our Master sent me to find the tomb.. so until she's freed... You serve me!" He stood from the snow-covered ground and glared at his friends. "Understand?!"

"Very persuasive performance," Lloyd mumbled with tired half-hearted sarcasm.

"Shut the hell up, kid," Morro growled under his breath, pushing Lloyd to the back of his mind as the three other ghosts nodded in submission.

"At least let me slow them down," Bansha growled as Morro began stumbling back into his mech. "You summoned us for a reason- M..Morro! Goddammit!" The female ghost let out a loud hiss of surprise and annoyance as his legs began to give way. He struggled to stay upright but ultimately ended up falling back into the snow with a soft thump.

With a frustrated glance at her other two hovering male companions, Bansha moved closer, and pulled his mask below his chin to get a good look at his face.

"He's out cold," she grumbled.

"You've got to be kidding me," Archer snarled. With a glance over his shoulder at the advancing ninja, he said, "We will have to stop them now. With Morro out of commission, we are vulnerable. Ghoultar and I will bring him into the temple, you send the ninja a message that they'll hear loud and clear."

The female broke into a large excited grin under her face mask as the other two each looped an arm under the unconscious leader's shoulder and began dragging him toward the entrance of the Temple. She turned to the ninja below, inhaled, and let out a bellowing screech. The gut-wrenching noise upset the mountainside, and a large thundering tsunami of snow came crashing down the ninja's way.

Both Morro and Lloyd had stayed unconscious throughout the entire battle between ghosts and ninja when the four had finally caught up (with the help of Cole possessing the snow). The ghosts, though they put up a long stubborn fight, with the absence of their leader were weakened exponentially and were finally forced to surrender... though they were snapping and hurtling insults relentlessly as they were dragged back to the bounty in deepstone cuffs..

Despite the three's furious facades, they were absolutely shitting themselves.. They knew Morro would not let them off easily for getting captured when he woke up. The least he'd do would be beat their asses accompanied by some choice words that Wu would definitely not have approved of.

Kai was the one to have found Lloyd's unconscious form leaning against a wall in the Hanging Temple. He had carried his friend back with him, while the other ninja went on ahead to enter the temporary gate in the Blind Man's Eye.

With much reluctance and regret, the fire master had his possessed friend chained up in his room as he awaited the other ninja’s return, after they'd retrieved the Sword of Sanctuary from the Cloud Kingdom. Luckily they had not encountered a single problem, and returned quickly..

However, Morro had bigger things to worry about than being locked to a bed in his nemesis's headquarters, as he finally caught a glimpse of what the hell Lloyd could have possibly been so afraid of, deep in the realm of his nightmares...

#ninjago #ninjago/little nightmares #morro master of wind #lloyd garmadon #ninjago au #ninjago fanfiction #crossover au #it won’t let me cut the post i apologize :’(#long post

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theangriestpea · 4 years

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In the Shadows : Eleven

Summary: Jughead Jones, resident werewolf, just wants to protect his family and his pack from the incoming doom of The Red Circle. Sweet Pea and Lily join him to help keep the Southside safe from human tyranny. Meanwhile a demon princess named Myra and succubus named Lavender had a plan to bring on the apocalypse. <ao3> <masterlist> <playlist>

Rating: Mature // Explicit

Pairings: Jughead Jones x OC, Sweet Pea x OC, Kurtz x OC

Warnings: None for this chapter

Word Count: 5k+

A/N: This took me four days to write and I feel so bad about that. I just couldn't concentrate much on this chapter. And then I broke my own heart with the ending??? Sometimes writing be like that. No chapter warnings this time around!

Chapter Eleven : A Deal with the Devil

Lavender awoke feeling as if her entire chest cavity were on fire. She huffed as the memories from the previous day flooded her head. How could she have walked into a trap like that? He could have killed her...would Myra have let her just simply die? Then the prophecy couldn’t possibly come to fruition. So then, was she truly ever in mortal danger? Or was this some sort of plot to make her crawl back into servitude?

“Hey,” A deep voice came from beside her and she turned her head to see a very sleepy Sweet Pea. “How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve been dipped in gasoline and had a match thrown on me.” She answered honestly, trying to sit up. A bolt of pain shot through her like lightning. “Oh fuck me, that hurts.” She groaned, laying back down in defeat.

“I should have gone with you.” Sweet Pea muttered as he pulled the blanket away to look over her shoulder. “That’s going to be one nasty scar.”

Lavender didn’t have the strength to cover it with her shifting magic. “Fucking humans.” She cursed, “That bitch Archie has hell to pay.”

Sweet Pea rolled his eyes, “let me deal with him. You’re on bed rest until you can move without making that face.

“What face?” Lavender asked as she shifted and grimaced.

“That one.” He pointed to her as he stood up. “I’m going to go make us breakfast. I’ll get you something for the pain that won’t hurt the baby.”

She pouted as she laid in bed. “Fine. Jerk.” Sweet Pea shook his head at her as he walked out to take care of Daisy and make food for them.

Down the street, Lily had slept in Jughead’s bed with his furry form to keep her warm. His little sister Jellybean had helped patch her up, though Lily insisted that she could heal herself once she got her strength back. FP had also had a talk with her about formally joining the pack. He explained that they weren’t exclusive to werewolves. He had just inducted a vampire a week prior and even had a few humans married in. It was all inclusive, though there would always be an alpha wolf to lead. He never foresaw that changing.

He made sure that Lily knew that being his soulmate meant she would also help lead the pack. There wasn’t much choice otherwise unless he stepped down as heir, which FP absolutely did not want him to do. Lily had been faced with the decision to either do the dance ritual and be inducted or to force Jughead to outcast himself from his own family. In the end, it wasn’t hard to decide.

“Juggie, we need to get you back to Lav’s.” She mumbled to him as he began to stir from his sleep. “Sweet Pea can help get you back. And I’m worried about her. They know where she lives, so what if they try to attack her there too?”

“I know, we should have gone back last night.” He murmured telepathically with the use of their physical touch. Something seemed off about him. His words were somehow less coherent. She couldn’t quite put a finger on it exactly, but she knew it had something to do with him turning.

She got dressed in some clothes she kept in his dresser and walked out with him. His father was sipping coffee at the kitchen table. “Boy, find a way out of this sooner and not later. You need to be out of that form by the rise of the next full moon. Six days, that’s all you got or there’s no going back.”

Lily hadn’t realized how little time she had. Her face grew more pale as she looked down at the black wolf. He said something to his father that she could not understand as she was not actively touching him. FP let out a disappointed sigh before waving him off. Jughead pushed her with his massive head towards the door, and she took the hint to go.

They walked to the double-wide, receiving a lot of weary glances from fellow pack members that were neighbors. Word spread like wildfire about what had happened, and many were enamored by the fact that Jughead risked his humanity to save the love of his life and the woman that saved them all last moonrise. Almost all of them felt incredibly indebted to Lily and already accepted her as one of their own. She wouldn’t have any trouble in pairing with their alpha as the majority were pleased at the thought of her helping lead them.

Lily felt awkward to be the center of their attention. She hadn’t realized how important of a role she had begun to play in all of their lives. Jughead didn’t prep her for any of this, mostly because he was oblivious to it all. The only thing he ever seemed to pay attention to was her, which though it was endearing it could also be a little irritating.

She knocked on the door to the double-wide and Sweet Pea answered it. He let them inside, seeing Jughead still in her beast form and sighed. “Guess it was too much to hope for that he’d change back after rescuing you.”

“This is your fault.” She said, poking his firm chest. “You gave him that potion. You allowed him to talk you into letting him do this to himself! We have six days to turn him back or he’ll never be human again, Pea!”

Sweet Pea frowned, “I didn’t have much of a choice. He would have never found you in time had he not turned. The locating spell wasn’t working. The sleet washed your scent away so he had no trail to follow. Don’t think for a second that I wanted for him to have to turn, because I didn’t. I know how much he means to you and I knew the risk it carried. I couldn’t leave Daisy without a mother.”

Lily deflated, her shoulders slumping as a sad look crossed her face. “Oh…” She murmured, having not known all of the facts of what had occurred the previous evening.

Daisy ran in, “puppy!” She screamed in the highest pitch she could manage, making all three of them flinch. Jughead crouched down so that she could crawl on top of him to ride him like a horse. She grabbed onto the fur around his neck, “Go! Go!” She chimed as he began to trot around the house as if he were a show pony.

A look of jealousy crossed Sweet Pea’s face, “I wish I could turn into a wolf.” He grumbled.

“Sorry, Sweets, you got stuck with the raven.” She said with a smirk before going to check on her best friend. Sweet Pea just groaned in response before going back to cooking.

Lily walked into the bedroom to see Lavender pouting as she played on her phone. She looked up, “Lily!” She said excitedly, trying to sit up before remembering that it hurt to move around too much. “You look like hell, what happened?”

“The Red Circle kidnapped me and tortured me...Jughead and Charlie had to save me.” She said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “How do you feel?”

“Like a crispy shish kabob,” Lav replied as she resumed her pouting. “Sweet Pea was supposed to make me something for the pain, but he must have forgotten.”

Lily smiled, placing a hand over the scar and feeding a tiny bit of her magic into her. She had recharged a bit last night, not enough to do any major healing but enough to take the pain away. The right side of her chest began to ache dully, the pain transferring into her. “Better?”

“Yeah, thanks.” The succubus said quietly. “Are you okay? After all that, I mean.”

The witch frowned, “Sweet Pea gave Jughead a potion to turn in order to find me. He’s stuck...I have to figure out a way to get him back into his human body. But, honestly I don’t know where to even start. It’s not like there’s a library I could go to to figure it out.”

Lavender, finally able to sit up now that Lily had taken the majority of her pain, sat up in the bed so her back was against the headboard. “I know how.” She said. “But it will be a stupidly hard plan to execute.”

Lily’s face contorted with confusion, “What? You know how to get him back?”

“Myra made a potion for Kurtz. In case she needed him to turn back. She probably has some stashed somewhere, I think in that shithole in Greendale we used to stay at. Getting it from her would be the hard part. But, if we do have it then it’ll work. We just need one of his human hairs to activate it.” Lavender explained, “It would be incredibly dangerous to go against her in your state. You can’t use sex magic right now, unless you want to go down that really disturbing road of bestiality-”

Lily gave her a disgusted look, “That’s not happening.”

“Then we’ll have to work with what we’ve got.” Lav continued. “And we have to be incredibly careful.”

“Food’s ready!” Sweet Pea called out. Lily stood and offered a hand of Lavender who took it.

Lily helped her up, realizing that she had been totally naked under the blanket. She couldn’t help but look her body over. Lavender smirked at her, “Like what you see, little witch?”

She blushed, letting go of her hand. “Shut up and get dressed.” She turned her back to her and Lavender shrugged as she put on a silk robe and that’s it.

She put a hand on Lily’s shoulder when she was done. Lily glanced back at her and let out a breath when she realized she was covered. The two girls walked out to join Sweet Pea and the wolf that was Jughead Jones.

Lavender stared at Jughead and shook her head, “Poor thing.” He simply barked at her in response as he crouched down Daisy could get down and toddle to the table. Lily put her in her booster seat as Sweet Pea put the food on the table. “What about Jug?” Lav asked, seeing he hadn’t made a place for him.

“He doesn’t have hands, Shanna, what am I supposed to do?” He asked, irritated. “He can have the leftover scraps.”

Lily narrowed her eyes at him before making her soulmate a plate and setting it on the floor for him to eat. “Sorry, Jug.” She whispered to him and he shrugged the best he could in his current form. She sat down at the table, still giving her ex the evil eye. Sweet Pea simply ignored her.

“I’m surprised you could get out of bed.” he said to her as he began to eat the scrambled eggs on his plate. “You couldn’t even sit up this morning.”

“Lily took some of the pain away.” Lav said as she picked at her food, not having much appetite as her nausea kicked in. It hadn’t been quite as bad the past couple days but that was mostly because she had hardly eaten anything. She knew whatever she ate now would be back up in half an hour or less.

Sweet Pea finally acknowledged Lily again, “you need to stop. You healed her enough yesterday, it’s going to start affecting you.”

Lily grumbled to herself as she pushed the eggs around on her plate, “I’m fine. She was hurting and needed my help.”

“And your chest doesn’t hurt at all?” He asked, his anger starting to show. “Because I bet if you took your shirt off, there would be an identical mark there where her scar is.”

“Just drop it, Sweet Pea, I’m fine.” She snapped at him hard enough for him to back off just a fraction.

Lavender looked between them, suspicious that this looked more like a lovers quarrel than a friendly fight. “She won’t heal me any more, Pea. I’ll just go hide in my bed the rest of the day.” She pushed her plate away, unable to eat anything and he frowned at her.

“You need to eat. You’re growing a baby.” He said sternly.

She rolled her eyes at him, “am I? Is that why the thought of taking a bite of this bacon is making me want to hurl? I would have never guessed.” She stood up. “I’m going back to bed.” She muttered darkly before going back to her room.

Sweet Pea and Lily looked at each other, not understanding what just happened. Jughead got up from his spot on the floor and went into the bedroom to join Lavender to speak with her. He knew what was going through her head somehow better than they did. Perhaps it was his animal instincts making him more empathetic

He jumped onto her bed, resting his large head on the exposed part of her leg. “They do that sometimes.” He said softly, “They sound like an old married couple. It bothered me the first few times too but it doesn’t mean anything.”

Lav petted his head slowly as she let out an annoyed grumble. “I’m very hormonal right now and it’s just not helping my natural possessive tendencies. Normally I’m overconfident in what I can make men do. With him, it’s just like...I don’t want to have to control him. I haven’t felt this way since before my soul was taken. I don’t think I like having it back very much.”

“You will get used to it.” He assured her. “You have a better range of human emotion now. It will take some adjustment.”

“I don’t want to be a jealous idiot over my soulmate.” She murmured, hoping the other two couldn’t hear her. “But I can’t just turn the emotion off.”

“You don’t have to turn it off.” Jughead said back, “just rationalize the destructive thoughts you’re having. Soulmates rarely cheat on one another, the sex is too good. The only reason you have sex with other men is because you need to feed off of them.”

Lavender went silent, not having anything else to say to him. She wasn’t sure what she should do. He had sound advice but it was easier said than done. She knew the idea of Sweet Pea going back to Lily was completely ridiculous. It would be unheard of. It was just like there was a worm inside of her ear that just kept whispering terrible things to her. She was powerless against it. She found herself wishing to tear her soul from her physical body and hide it somewhere safe, somewhere where it couldn’t be hurt like this. She felt like such a child sometimes, and then she reminded herself that she died at the age of nineteen. She was, in all honesty, forever a teenager and never a full fledged adult in human terms.

Jughead lifted his head off of her when he heard Sweet Pea approaching. The warlock entered the room and the wolf hopped off the bed and trotted back into the living room to continue to play with Daisy who had begun to call for him.

“I made you some tea.” Sweet Pea said, handing her the mug as a peace offering. “It’ll help your stomach and maybe you can eat.”

Lavender sat up and took the cup with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I can’t really deal with human emotions right now. I haven’t had them in twenty years and they just seem to jumble all together sometimes that it's overwhelming.”

He took a seat next to her, “Lily told me about your plan. It’s too dangerous for you to go so I’m leaving you here with Jughead and Daisy. Lily and I will find it.”

She frowned, feeling another pang of jealousy inside her rib cage. “Okay….”

Sweet Pea grabbed her by the chin and forced her to look at him. A small pout formed on her lips at him doing this. “Stop.” He said in a gentle tone. “I would never do that to you. You know I understand why you have to fuck random men off the street. I don’t care about that because they will never make you feel as good as I do. I don’t want anyone else, I want you.”

Lavender blinked back the prickling tears. “I’m sorry,” She muttered, “I know that.”

Sweet Pea kissed her lightly on the lips, then the tip of her nose, and then on the middle of her forehead. This was something he did any time he was being particularly tender with her and it made her heart flutter in her chest. “Drink up and rest. If anything happens, call me and I’ll be here in no time.”

She nodded her head, forcing a small smile, “Okay, Pea. Be safe.”

He got up and gave her a proud smirk. “Safe? Doll, I’m powered to the brim with sex magic. Nothing can touch me unless I want it to.”

Lavender gave him an annoyed look but said nothing else. He kissed her on the lips one last time before turning to leave. “Call me if you need anything. This hopefully won’t take long.” He said, waiting for her sigh of a response before leaving once more.

She listened to him and Lily gather any supplies they would need before they walked out of the house. She assumed they were using her car since it was the only one at the house. Lily’s Saturn was at the cottage though the walk wasn’t too far. It didn’t really matter, she let Sweet Pea use her car whenever he needed to pick something up that was too big to fit on his bike.

The familiar engine outside roared to life and she heard the car pull out the gravel driveway and take off down the street. In the other room, Jughead was still entertaining Daisy by being her miniature pony. He seemed to be having fun too by the sounds of it. The demon let out another sigh as she turned onto her side, her forgotten tea growing cold on the nightstand. She was getting hungry, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to leave any time soon lest she wanted to take Jughead’s offer back and feast on his soul instead.

Sweet Pea and Lily drove to Greendale where Lavender stated the concoction they needed may be. Lavender had told them of this particular hide out before and Sweet Pea kept a raven outside of it to keep watch. It reported to him every few days about her comings and goings. He knew from the last report that she hadn’t been there since Lavender got her soul back. Hopefully what they were looking for was still there.

It took them about an hour and a half. They parked a mile away to avoid detection and once they were closer to the ramshackle building they took to their animal forms. Sweet Pea flew above the black cat on the ground as a raven. They were moving quickly, not wanting to waste any time.

Sweet Pea’s familiar appeared beside him and the two spoke through a nonverbal language Lily could not understand. It seemed as though Myra still hadn’t returned. He began to doubt their luck.

He landed on the ground at the edge of the wood to look into the clearing. His raven circled around top to double check the perimeter and Lily sniffed the air to try and gauge if anyone was nearby. When nothing turned up, they returned to their human bodies.

“What if it’s not here?” Lily asked, worried. “What if she destroyed it when I healed him?”

“Don’t freak out before we even go inside.” He said back almost apathetically. “She probably left it here with the rest of her things.”

Sweet Pea led the way, opting to go first in case it was a trap. Lily reluctantly followed behind him, a bad feeling arising from the bottom of her stomach. Something didn’t feel quite right but she couldn’t quite get a grasp of what her senses were trying to tell her.

He was able to break down the door with relative ease and step inside. It was quiet, the sunlight filtering through the dirty windows illuminated the cloud of dust that the dark witch had just unsettled. He held back a sneeze as he inspected further. When nothing stirred he motioned for Lily to come in.

The two searched the small house, checking every crack and crevice. Nothing was there. No clothes, no books, no equipment of any kind. The entire place was barren of any signs of life. Outside, Sweet Pea’s familiar let out a low croak of warning. They stopped in their places, glancing at one another before quickly joining hands as a loud pop rebounded off the crumbling walls.

“Looking for this?” A sickly sweet voice asked as a curtain of smoke and dust cleared. Myra appeared when it settled to the floor holding a glass mason jar in her hand full of a viscous green liquid. Her eyes scanned over the two of them, “Oh my, what do we have here? Old lovers entwined once more. How will my little succubus feel if she were to find out.”

They dropped their grasp on one another. It wasn’t as it had appeared to be. Sweet Pea had just fed in as much of his magic as he could spare into her in order for her to be able to cast protective white magic. His black would be of little use against a demon in terms of defense. He had to be careful with his reserve.

Lily was trying to formulate some kind of deal she could strike, however nothing came to mind. It was totally blank at the mere thought of being at the demon princess’ mercy. Jughead’s fate was in her hands now and the thought made her want to scream with rage.

“I’ll give it to you, little witch.” Myra cooed as she stepped closer to them. They stood rigidly, bracing themselves for an attack. “You just have to promise me something in return.” She circled around them, clicking her long fingernail against the glass body of the jar.

“What do you want, Myra?” Lily asked, regretting the words before they even spilled from her lips. Being indebted to a demon was perhaps the worst possible thing you could do. They played dirty and the odds were never in your favor unless you found a way to outsmart them. Clearly that was not going to happen this go around.

She stopped once she had made a full circle around the two. “The second the child is free from my little slut’s womb, you are to deliver her to me.” She said, a wicked grin playing upon her face. “If you don’t, then I will do to dear Jughead what I did to Kurtz and this time I’ll make the curse unbreakable. No potion, no amount of white magic, no lunar phenomenon will change him back. He will remain that sad mangy little dog for the rest of his life.”

Sweet Pea’s teeth clenched together so hard that pain rattled his jaw. Lily was looking at him, wondering if it was even okay for her to bargain away his daughter in such a way. His hands were balled into fists, knuckles white with tension. The demon wanted his child and there seemed to be no way around it. If he made this deal then he would break his own mate’s heart. He had no idea how she would react.

Lily’s eyes moved back to Myra who was still clicking the glass. “Time’s running out, Lilian. You only have six more days. Who knows if you’ll be able to find me again in time. The deal is only on the table for this moment, if I leave here today without a decision then it’ll be gone forever. And don’t worry, you won’t be able to wiggle your way out of payment. I will have that child one way or another. At least this way your lover doesn’t go mad.”

“It’s a deal.” Lily said, waving her hand at Sweet Pea to silence him with her magic. “You can have her the moment the cord is cut. If this potion doesn’t work then the deal is off. If something goes wrong with his change then it’s off. If he is anything less than healthy then its-”

“Off.” Myra finished for her, rolling her eyes. “It will work. Have a little faith in me, would you?” She asked, her disappointing tone nothing but a ruse. “One strand of his human hair added, let it sit for thirty seconds and stir. Every drop down that canine throat of his and it’ll be done. He’ll return to what nature intended.”

The demoness handed the jar to Lily who grasped it tightly in her hands, afraid that it would disappear she didn’t. It felt oddly light in her hands, as if she had expected it to weigh twice as much. Myra disappeared with a cruel grin and silence surrounded them.

Lily undid her spell on Sweet Pea and her heart hurt enough for the both of them. Tears were threatening to spill from his eyes, angry hot saline that didn’t dare to fall down his face. “What have you done?” He asked, his voice so dangerously low that she took a few steps back. Fear raced through her at the lethal glare on his face before she could say anything he turned back into a raven and flew out the open door.

Lily arrived back at the trailer park ninety minutes later. After getting a hair from his comb within his room, she walked into the double-wide with the necessary ingredients. She found that Daisy was taking a nap on the couch while Jughead was pacing between the living room and Lavender’s room in order to keep an eye on both of them.

When he saw her, he gave her a quizzical look. She shook her head, not wanting to talk about what had transpired with Sweet Pea. She was worried that if she said his name then he’d suddenly reappear to rip her to shreds with his words. She already hurt too much from the deal she made. She didn’t need to feel any worse.

She followed Myra’s directions, adding the hair and waiting before stirring it. She poured the mixture into a bowl and sat it down on the linoleum of the kitchen floor so he could drink it. She had to brace herself for what she was about to watch. Jughead had never let her watch him change before and she knew that it was going to be incredibly painful for him.

Jughead drank it, hesitating after the first sip before greedily drinking it up. It tasted leagues better than the potion to make him shift into a wolf. It was sweet like berries and citrus with some sour notes hidden somewhere in the aftertaste. He licked the bowl clean.

Lily watched as he back arched painfully, bones snapping and reforming. His mouth opened wide, impossibly wide. His lower jaw unhinged and two human hands were forced out from his throat. More cracking, more breaking, more sounds of pain as he used his freed hands to rip the fur from his body to make the mouth large enough for his human form to shoulder through.

It was actually a strange mix of horrifying and fascinating. Watching the eyes, teeth, and claws of the wolf body fall and decay. When finished, Jughead lay curled up on the floor totally naked in a puddle of deflated fur. He was breathing heavily, red faced from the physical strain and the tears of pain that had fallen.

Lily knew she couldn’t take his pain away. Not after having used so much healing magic the past two days. She crouched down to pull his shaking body into her arms in order to hold him lovingly. “Jug…” She whispered, her voice riddled with distraught. “I’ve done something terrible. Sweet Pea and Lavender are never going to forgive me.”

He felt like he couldn’t breathe as his mind was still spinning from the transformation. He looked up at her and was pained by the expression on her face. “What did you do?” He managed to gasp between staccato intakes of air.

“I had to make a deal with Myra, she was waiting for us.” Lily said. “I had to agree to give her the baby in order to save you. I wouldn’t let Sweet Pea speak up and ruin my chance of saving you. It was so stupidly selfish but I couldn’t bear the thought of you being driven mad by the moon.

Lavender walked out, having been woken up from her nap and feeling ever the more hungry. Her drive for a soul was getting worse but she worried about leaving without Sweet Pea there to protect her. Upon seeing the two on the floor, she let out a sigh of relief. “Good you got it. I need to feed, where is Pea?”

Lily chewed on her lip nervously, not knowing what to tell her. “He took off without me. I’m not sure where he is. I can locate him for you.”

She frowned, not understanding or liking what may have happened between them. Her jealousy spiking out of nowhere. “Why would he do that?”

“Lavie, listen.” Lily stood as Jughead sat up on his own. “Myra had the potion, she wouldn’t give it to us without a deal.”

Lavender’s brow furrowed, a sinking feeling growing within her stomach. “What kind of deal?”

Lily was about to break down, knowing that she was about to lose the woman who had quickly become her best friend. “The baby...the baby for the potion...I’m so sorry, Lavender, I had no choice-”

The hybrid’s eyes flashed black, the sclera no longer present. “Get out of my house.” She seethed angrily as an unknown force whipped her hair around her. “And don’t you ever come back.”

Tag List: @the-gargoyle-queen, @lilhemmo, @wayward-river, @southside-vixen, @princesweetpea, @redhairdontcare732 (comment/ask/message if you want to be added or subscribe to AO3)

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caramelapple-system · 3 years

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15.11.2021

Thank god we have a dragon that got up this morning. It was awfully early, even before 7am., and he was the only one that actually reacted to our alarm. Why we had to get up? Well, the host forgot something at the store they work at. They paid for some stuff and then left it there the day before. We expected one of the owners to let the stuff be sold but that didn't happen. Then we came back home to sleep a few more hours, so we wouldn't fall asleep at our partner system's place.

Annabelle and Raihan decided to watch his favourite Bollywood movie, Ra.one but he actually finished watching it with Artur. After that, Margot got out for a moment only to 'yell' at Artur for not going to the bathroom... And to get me and Annabelle some beer I bought earlier. It was nice, I couldn't wait to try the one I got for myself. It wasn't bad but it's going to be the only time I bought it.

So, we were drinking in peace and quiet, so to change it, Annabelle set her playlist on and... well, sh*t went down from there. She had some flashbacks (but I have no idea what about, she refused to tell me a damn thing about them) and the whole thing got even worse after that one fu*king song... it got to both of us. Annabelle stopped it just in time before either of us got too mad. Too bad, Grzesiek decided to keep singing the song in their Headspace... and paid for it by being forced to front and being choked 'from the inside'. I was out because of Lance and Michał got out by his song only to let out Claire a moment after. It made someone really happy...

They had a fun evening together (if you know what I mean ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ). I'm pretty happy for them, especially for Lance. He really needed it. Then they decided to set up a little play date for Leon and Raven just so the two could finally meet and TALK like normal people instead of just sending gifs back and forth. They kept showing each other some photos, and it was all fun and games until Raven's pretty unexpected panic attack. It turned out that she was really scared that he'd leave her in the end... To add fuel to the fire, their persecutor said some stuff that Raven had to rely on Artur to get off the front. Leon and Artur had a long talk on various things... and we got a warning that some stuff is still a bit too much to leave them unaffected.

Speaking of their persecutor... He'd have me at his throat if it wasn't for the rest of the Slytherins. It was reaaally hard to hold back as I heard him talking bullsh*t about his headmates. Margot came up after but it was enough to make her take some damage. She was really upset... Even I felt bad about having to leave to catch the last bus home. But I swear... Grzesiek is going to have his sorry a*s kicked next time he fronts and I'm around.

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pinktatertots99 · 6 years

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they made you blind, messed up your mind, but I can set you free - nanbaka fic

lolol something stupid that crossed my mind. jyugo x zakuro fic. (au where zakuro and *implied* ikkaku go through reformation at nanba after all the events that occurred.)

it was a casual, shockingly silent and peaceful day in cell 13...but of course THAT didn't last long.

"I was meant to be yours! We were meant to be one! Don't give up on me now! Finish what we've begun!"

blasted off suddenly infront of their cell, causing everyone to jump in reaction. "WHO THE HELL?!" uno screeched out as he ran to the door, his face calming a bit but also annoyed as he looked back at jyugo. "oi! your boyfriend's here."

"he's not my boyfriend." jyugo muttered as he tinkered with one of the puzzle games lying around dismissively.

"oh yeah. you guys got into a fight or something right?" rock asked. jyugo nodded in response.

"well boyfriend or not he's playing a copyrighted theatrical song for you, so by all standards he is." uno stated pointing at the door. "now go tell him to shut it down! we'll get sued if it goes on any longer!"

jyugo groaned but complied, getting up and walking to the door window, seeing zakuro sitting cross-legged on the other side of the hall. his arms crossed, pouting as he had the boombox sitting infront of him blasting the song.

"hey!" jyugo called out. "turn it off! hajime's gonna smack you over the head if he comes back to it!" zakuro huffed but turned the music off. "now what'do you want?"

"I wanna talk."

"there's nothing to talk-" a loud crunching noise interrupted the teen as he looked to his left, seeing uno, nico and rock sitting infront of the wall window, watching the two of them as rock snacked on his bag of chips.

"...can we go talk elsewhere?"

.........

it didn't take long for the two to make their way to the building's rooftop, both leaning over the bar of it watching the view...also both trying not to bring up talking about where this conversation was to go.

"so," jyugo started. "...where did you get that boombox?"

"oh that? well, while I was wallowing this loud guy with glasses came in and said he knew what was going on, and that if I wanted to get your attention I needed to play something to you infront of your cell."

of course, mitsuru was at it again jyugo thought to himself. "he told you to play that song?"

"no. I just found it on his playlist and wanted to use it." zakuro looked back at the raven smiling. "it reminded me of us."

"how?"

zakuro shrugged. "beats me. just sounded like us. the loud guy agreed too."

the fact mitsuru agreed about that gave jyugo an uneasy feeling as to why he would think that. "anyways," jyugo shook his head as he got brought back by the albino's sudden talking. "now that we're here...can we talk about, it."

jyugo turned his head away from the other. "there's nothing to talk about."

"aw come ON we gotta!"

"I'm never forgiving you for it."

"that's not fair! my side was never explained!"

"there's nothing TO explain!"

"oh great. a two for one deal on idiots."

both teens looked up to see hajime looming over them. "least this time your not 'messing around'."

both looked away hinting a hue of pink on their cheeks as hajime brought out the handcuffs. "now make it easy and lets go."

"whaaaaat? no way!" zakuro fought back. "I'm not done with him yet!"

"yeah well your going whether you want to or not."

"your not fair!"

"no duh."

zakuro pouted crossing his arms. "dumb mean gorilla." he muttered. hajime could feel that vein twitch at that. "your on thin fucking ice kid."

"oh yeah?" he tempted, crossing his arms. "well I'M not going and there's nothing you can do about it!"

a loud hit on the head went off as hajime dragged the two teens in handcuffs down the stairs with both sporting a harsh bump on their heads.

"HEY WHY DID I GET HIT?!" jyugo screamed at him.

"cause you escaped dumbass!"

"cause HE forced me to come out!"

"I just wanna patch things up!"

"yeah well I DON'T!"

"GORILLA MAAAAN!" zakuro whined clinging to hajime's arm suddenly. "he won't listen to my side of the storyyyy!"

"what'do I look like a couples counselor?!"

"but it's not FAAAAIIIIIR! he's mad at me for no reasoooon. I just wanna make things better!"

hajime groaned internally as he looked over the two teens and then focused on jyugo. "so what'd he even do?"

"he knows what he did."

"and I'm SOOOORRRRYYYYY!" zakuro pleaded. "SEE?! he won't listen when I'm trying to apologize! make him listen!"

"if I was able to do that I wouldn't have a fucking problem with him now."

zakuro whined more as he clung to the supervisor. hajime could feel the oncoming migraine and stomach pains if this went on any longer. "if you two can work this out then will you shut up?"

zakuro looked up at him with big puppy dog eyes, nodding his head. hajime sighed loudly. he couldn't believe he was gonna do this.

the two sat in silence on their knees, their bodies facing eachother as they sat in the library whilst hajime was outside it, watching through a creek in the door. zakuro facing jyugo whereas jyugo kept his eyes downcasted away from the other.

"so...will you hear me out?" zakuro asked. jyugo side glanced him before shrugging his shoulders and then humming in response.

"...I didn't mean to." zakuro started, twittling his fingers. "I was just...I mean, I didn't know..."

"course you didn't."

"please, i'll make up for it."

"there's no way you can."

"please understand." he pleaded. "I didn't think it'd get to you THAT much."

"well...it did." jyugo huffed in reply. zakuro looked at him sympathetically, taking his hands and holding them. "hey, you know I stayed here for a reason. I wanna change, learn, be better at being human. i'll do whatever I can to fix this."

jyugo looked at him in surprised before nodding, blushing a shade of red. "okay."

"yeah, i'll make it up to you. next time they serve egg rolls i'll save one for you-"

"WHAT?!"

both boys looked to see hajime, seitarou and the rest of cell 13 gawking at them in shock. "you...were fighting...cause of a DAMN EGG ROLL?!" uno squealed out.

"HE stole my egg roll." jyugo replied pointing at zakuro.

"I didn't get to HAVE one though!"

"then GO UP and get one!"

"THEY WERE OUT CAUSE YOUR FRIEND ATE EM ALL!"

"HE ATE HALF!"

"well ikka stole mine! I thought you already HAD one."

"then why was there one ON MY PLATE?!"

"I THOUGHT YOU HAD TWO!"

"IT WAS THE LAST EGG ROLL ASSHOLE!"

"well how was I supposed to know huh?!"

"IT WAS ON MY TRAY!"

the two then devolved into bickering as the rest watched in still surprise.

"...I'm so fucking done."

"to be fair, egg rolls ARE pretty good. I'm not surprised it'd cause a strain."

"and the ship continues to sail! yay!"

"seitarou, hold me back. I'm about ready to commit a fucking massacre."

"s-SUPERVISOR?!"

#nanbaka #jyugo x zakuro #zakuro x jyugo #fanfiction #the pink one speaks #i made this

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winunk · 4 years

Text

Under a Peach Tree | iii | Akaashi Keiji x fem!OC

Chapter Three: Rat of the City

Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x fem!OC

Summary: As Akaashi and Sasaki spend more and more time together she begins to feel more self-conscious.

Genre: romance, angst, humor if you squint and think I'm funny

Warnings: cursing, incompetent author who literally does not know how to update regularly, INTRUSIVE THOTS

Word Count: 2.8k

Check out the series playlist here!

“I really messed up the order of things, huh?” he asked me, looking up with a glint in his eyes.

How is he so gorgeous? I asked myself.

It wasn’t fair for one person to be that intelligent and attractive at the same time. He was a mystery to me, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to uncover his secrets.

A few weeks after our conversation under the peach tree, I was watching Akaashi flawlessly set to Onaga. It wasn’t hard to see that his skill surpassed the other setter on the team, despite only being a year older.

“Sasaki-san,” the team’s official manager piped up. “I forgot to fill up the water bottles.”

I tore my eyes away from the volleyball players and looked towards the young girl. Setting my notebook down, I followed her to the water fountains.

“I’m so glad you’re here to help, Sasaki-san,” she said, filling up the first bottle. “The boys can be so intimidating sometimes. It doesn’t help when they tower over me.”

“Don’t let them have power over you because of their size,” I replied. “Anyone who uses their body to control others is not worth your time, Yuka-chan.”

She turned to me, waving her hand. “T-that’s not what I meant!” Yuka stammered. “It’s just a little scary being surrounded by all of them at once.”

I scoffed and screwed on the lid to the last bottle. Yuka got flustered easily. I was worried about her and wondered how she would survive managing the team without me.

“You would think having a brother on the team would help your nerves.”

The first day I showed up to practice, Akaashi told the coach that I was only there to help the first-year manager, Arai Yuka. She had apparently been having a hard time following the way the old managers took notes, and learning the system while trying to keep up with the boys left her exhausted by the end of the day.

My job was easy enough. I started off filling up the water bottles while Yuka focused on taking notes. Occasionally I would help organize the equipment room, since the boys thought throwing things in there was good enough when it came to cleaning.

“I’ll bring the water bottles over. Go grab the clean towels.”

“Okay, Sasaki-san!”

One day after practice, I saw Yuka flipping through her notes, which looked like an elementary child’s scribbling. So I drew out a new format that categorized her notes more efficiently.

Within the first week, I was no longer nervous when a stray ball came my way. I even began to expect it. After the second week, I was picking up small things the boys were doing when plays didn’t go as planned. There were times when I would chime in during the team huddle, relieving Yuka of her nervous babbling.

That’s when Coach told me to be the one taking notes during the practices and games. I didn’t want to be any more involved with the team, but when Yuka eagerly agreed with him, I couldn’t say no.

“Who are we playing against today, Akaashi-san?” a first-year asked as I started passing out water bottles.

Yuka’s brother, I recalled. Name starts with an M.

Akaashi picked up a small notebook that he carried with him everywhere. “We’re playing Shinzen, if I’m not mistaken,” he answered, flipping through it. “Where did I write it down?”

I furrowed my eyebrows, handing the last water bottle to Onaga. He thanked me, but I hardly noticed.

“Akaashi-san, you guys are playing Nekoma today,” I corrected him. “You go to the Shinzen training camp next week, so you are mistaken.”

A hush came over the gym. I didn’t normally speak to any of the players and almost made it a point not to. It didn’t help that Akaashi was wrong for the first time since I’d met him, and I had sassed him for it.

“Sorry, Akaashi-san,” I said softly, bowing my head. I felt my face heat up, ashamed of myself.

You really had to tell off the Captain. At least it’ll give you an excuse to quit the team, even though no one’s forcing you to stay here.

“Oh,” he said, rubbing his shoulder and looking at his notebook. “You’re right. Thank you, Sasaki-san.”

“I’ve never seen mom scold dad before,” Yuka’s brother whispered loudly to Onaga.

I whipped around, narrowing my eyes at him. “I would suggest focusing on your upcoming game rather than starting drama for your captain,” I shot at him.

“She’s right,” Coach Yamiji said from behind me. “Nekoma should be here any minute now. Any last words, Captain?”

Akaashi stood up, looking as if he was about to go to battle, not play a volleyball practice game. “We’ve been working as hard as any team,” he started. “You saw last week that Nekoma is not much weaker than they were last year. Remember to watch out for their setter’s tricks and the silver-haired middle blocker. Kuroo-san might have graduated, but he made sure his team would be a pain in my ass.”

The last part was muttered, but I heard it all the same.

Kuroo-san? Pain in his ass? What did I miss last weekend?

I’d never heard Akaashi talk about something with so much hostility before. I had no idea what Nekoma meant to them, but I guess they were rivals. Whoever they were, it was making Akaashi tense in a way I had never seen before.

“Just play as you always have, and don’t let them forget who made it to finals at the Spring Tournament last year,” he finished with a smirk.

The playful mood of the team disappeared with his words. Most of the team were first-years who’d never been to the Spring Tournament, so they would have to prove themselves even more so than their senpais.

If he keeps this up, he might be benched. There’s no way he’ll be able to play well without a clear mind.

I wanted to say something to him, but I didn’t know what words would comfort him. Instead, I collected the water bottles from the boys and took them back to the water fountain to refill.

He’s saying all these things to encourage the team, but does he truly believe it?

By the time I finished and was settling down for the game, the volume in the gym went up to astronomical levels. I looked around for Yuka and almost jumped out of my skin when I saw some dude with a blonde mohawk staring her down.

“ANOTHER FEMALE MANAGER?” he was shouting. “HOW DO YOU DAMN OWLS DO IT EVERY YEAR?”

I all but stormed over to them. Gently pushing Yuka behind me, I glared at him. “You got a problem, punk?”

“TWO FEMALE MANAGERS?! I MISS ONE WEEKEND AND SUDDENLY I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING!”

Another boy noticed what was going on and came up behind the punk. “I’m so sorry about him,” he apologized. “He hasn’t gotten laid, ever.”

How do you even respond to that?

I stared at him blankly before gathering myself. “Next time keep him in check,” I said. “Yuka-chan gets nervous easily.”

“I’ll be sure to keep a closer eye on him,” he assured me. “I’m Fukunaga Shohei, Nekoma’s captain.”

“Sasaki Momoko,” I said, shaking his outstretched hand. I gave him a soft smile.

He’s kind of nice.

“Already trying to steal our managers?”

“I think if we were really trying, they would already be at Nekoma, Akaashi-san.”

Fukunaga grinned at the volleyball captain beside me. Akaashi returned it with a small smile, but he seemed tense.

“Where’s Kenma?” he asked, looking around.

Weird. He didn’t use an honorific.

Fukunaga’s grin disappeared instantly, eyes widening. “He’s not here?” he all but yelled, spinning around to look for the boy.

“Who’s Kenma?” I asked.

“More importantly, how is Kenma?” Onaga asked jokingly. He came up behind me and slung an arm around my shoulder. I tensed up.

He’s never done that before. Why is he touching me? What. The. Fuck.

“I can help you look for him,” I volunteered myself, interrupting whatever Fukunaga and Akaashi was saying. “Just tell me what he looks like.”

I shrugged Onaga’s arm off of me, stepping closer to Akaashi. Akaashi looked at me with concern. He never seemed very expressive, but I could see that he had a million questions in his eyes.

“Kenma is Nekoma’s setter,” Akaashi said. “He’s a little bit taller than you and has blonde hair. He might be sitting somewhere playing a video game until someone finds him.”

“I’m right here, Akaashi,” said a monotonous voice from the doorway of the gym. “You would think that after all the practice games we’ve played here that I’d be able to find my way from the parking lot to the gym, right?”

Akaashi scoffed. “You usually have Kuroo-san holding your hand.”

“I’m not dependent on Kuro,” the blond boy argued, I think. His voice didn’t show any emotions.

“Boys!” Nekoma’s coach called out. “Enough talking. Let’s warm up!”

The boys rushed over to start their warm-up sequence. I settled down on the bench with Coach Yamiji and Yuka, notebook clutched to my chest.

“Thank you, Sasaki-san,” she said softly.

I nodded. It was the least I could do to protect her. She’d grown on me in the past few weeks, and I would do anything to keep her from getting hurt by the idiot volleyball players.

The first set of the match was uneventful. Nekoma kept up with Fukurodani, but the boys came out on top in the end. They made it look too easy. But something kept me on edge, as if the cats had something else up their sleeves.

Akaashi and Kenma seemed to be exchanging remarks between rallies. Kenma kept playing tricks on him, faking the blockers and dumping right in front of the taller boy. Any attack Fukurodani tried to do was only returned by Nekoma. It felt like forever before the ball would drop in their court. Though it was close, Nekoma ended up winning the second set.

“Don’t mind,” Onaga said, clapping. “We’ll get them in this next set. Keep up your effort and keep playing well.”

Akaashi nodded but didn’t add anything.

He’s not okay.

The raven-haired boy handed Yuka his water bottle and jogged back onto the court wordlessly.

That isn’t a good sign.

I looked over at coach, but I didn’t even know what to say. Turns out I didn’t need to say anything because he just nodded.

“I might have to switch him out for Anahori-kun,” he said looking towards the third-year setter. “In terms of intellect, the two setters are pretty matched, so their teams are what makes the difference. Last year Akaashi-kun had Bo-kun and the other third years to fall back on. This year, the team is good, but for now Nekoma has us beat in synergy and experience.”

I watched as Akaashi talked to Yuka’s brother. Akaashi’s face was more irritated than I’d ever seen before. Searching my notes for his name, I spoke up.

“Mamoru-kun seems like he’ll be a strong ace,” I noted.

Coach Yamiji nodded. “He needs some refinement, but he’ll serve us well in the next couple years.”

I glanced over at Yuka, noticing the spark in her eyes. It seemed like any compliment to her brother was a compliment to her. She would no doubt tell him about what I said after practice.

The third set began, and it did not go well for Fukurodani. Anyone who had eyes could see the strain on Akaashi’s face as he tried to set a better attack for the team. His whole body was tense. Everything was wrong.

Coach Yamiji finally switched him out for Anahori, but the damage was already done. The team was down by five, and Nekoma was not letting up. Fukurodani was able to get in a couple points, but the game ultimately went to Nekoma.

I handed Akaashi his water bottle, trying to comfort him through my actions.

What could I say to him? He’s not going to believe anything I say now. The worst thing that I could tell him is that he played well when he doesn’t believe he did.

He turned away from me, eyes downcast. Darkness loomed around him.

I sighed and began collecting towels from the team. Tossing it in a hamper, I brought it over to the washing machine at the side of the gym.

Some of the guys had already begun taking down the nets and cleaning the gym. Some were idly chatting with their friends on the Nekoma team. I absentmindedly watched as the tall middle blocker from Nekoma led Mamoru outside.

“Who’s the new girl?” the silver-haired boy asked Mamoru.

I narrowed my eyes but was anxious to see what the first-year would say.

They’ve played a couple practice games against each other, so they would’ve already met Yuka. They must be talking about me. Why are they talking about me?

“Oh, she’s just a friend of Akaashi-san’s that was helping Yu-chan with all the manager stuff,” he responded. “She’s cool but she doesn’t talk to us that much.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding in. I felt dirty eavesdropping on their conversation from the other side of the gym door, but they shouldn’t be talking about other people.

That wasn’t too bad. It wasn’t a compliment, but he didn’t insult me. Maybe eavesdropping isn’t that bad for my self-esteem.

“But Akaashi’s so awesome! Why is he hanging out with her?”

My body tensed up.

What did that giraffe freak say about me? Yuka better hold me back because I’m about to commit homicide.

I took a deep breath.

Calm down.

“Yeah, I’m not so sure,” Mamoru replied. “But maybe he sees something in her that we don’t? Akaashi-san could definitely date anyone in the school, though. I hear Anahori-san and Onaga-san complain about the people that ask them about him all the time.”

It’s fine. It’s whatever. It’s not like I care much about what the volleyball team thinks of me anyways. You’re here as a favor to Akaashi and Yuka. You’re just friends.

Numbly, I walked back to the equipment room. I cleaned up alongside the rest of the team, but my mind was somewhere else.

What does he see in me that the rest of the team doesn’t?

I folded the last towel and tucked it away on the shelf.

Akaashi could date anyone in the school. He could hang out with anyone in the school.

I tied off the bag of folded jerseys and lugged it to the wall.

Why am I still helping out? I don’t have anything to gain from this.

By the end of the evening, I made my decision. Before I changed and went home, I told Coach that I was no longer able to help the team. He didn’t ask me any questions. He didn’t try to convince me to stay.

I’m not sure what hurt more: feeling like I wasn’t wanted or knowing that I wasn’t needed.

Coach Yamiji was announcing an additional practice for the next day as I was leaving. The team had lost in a practice game against Nekoma for the first time in a while, and their punishment was a weekend practice to focus on their weaknesses.

There were protests, but I knew they would show up. Even just seconds after the last ball fell in their court, I could tell they were already thinking about how they could get their revenge on the cats.

“Sasaki-san,” a voice called out after me.

I turned around to see Akaashi jogging towards me.

“I wanted to thank you for helping Yuka-chan adjust to being the team manager,” he said.

I nodded in response. “It’s been fun,” I said. “She’s a good kid.”

“I was hoping that you would decide to be a manager for longer,” he confessed. “It would be nice to have another third year on the team.”

I nodded blankly at him, still stuck in my head. “You could ask any of the third years that aren’t in a club,” I said. “I’m sure you’ll be able to convince someone.”

It’s hard to say no to you.

I turned away from him, reminding me of the first time we talked over a month ago.

Why does walking away hurt more this time? Why do you keep trying to talk to me? Why can’t you see that I’m not a lot like you?

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Taglist: [Open]

a/n: Why do they both have anxiety!!!! I just love him so much he’s so pretty. I wish I knew how to make those cool headers/had the time to. I’m so busy with school

fun fact: I had a hard time letting Nekoma win the game because I know Fukurodani is a really good team but I think they’re lowkey in a rebuild period also Onaga is team dad when Akaashi has his breakdowns

#akaashi keiji #akaashi keiji x oc #akaashi keiji x fem!oc #under a peach tree #uapt #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#rat of the city #sidney gish #fukurodani #fukurodani gakuen #vollyball #kri writes #krites

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bellamythology · 7 years

Text

as long as you keep comin’ round (3/4)

Rated: Mature Warning(s): Underage (Read on AO3)

part one・part two・part four・playlist

Normally Bellamy made a point of being punctual, but he found himself dragging his feet on the way up the driveway. (Per Gina’s request, he was wearing a button-down and slacks — no tie, though; a guy had to draw the line somewhere. And it wasn’t as though Clarke had no idea what he usually wore to parties, if he went at all.)

Once he was inside, he looked around anxiously, first trying to locate Clarke, then broadening his search to anyone he recognized. Roan’s parties weren’t quite free-for-alls, but invitations were highly coveted and sometimes forged, resulting in rooms packed with strangers and deafening music barely audible over the even louder chatter. It was most introverts’ worst nightmare, but at least there was booze and pretty girls.

Speaking of whom. There was Clarke, talking to her boyfriend on the other side of the pool.

As Bellamy approached them, he realized that talking was too mild a term: they were definitely arguing, Clarke unflinching and relentless in the face of Finn’s defensiveness. But she caught sight of him before he could back away to give them privacy, waving him over.

“Can you give me a ride home, Bellamy?” she asked, turning a very bright and very forced smile on him.

“Of course.” He forced himself not to look at Finn; if she wanted to tell him, she would. “Right now?”

“If you don’t mind.”

He’d only come to this party because she’d be here, so of course he didn’t mind. Rather than say that, though, he just nodded and led the way back out to his car.

Finally, as he was taking the turn out of Roan’s neighborhood, Clarke broke the silence. “I guess I owe you an explanation.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” he hastened to reassure her. “I’m here if you want to talk about it, but it’s okay if you don’t. It’s your business.”

She laughed, a little bitterly. “Why can’t all guys be as respectful as you? Take Finn for instance — it turns out that he’s under the impression that three months is the point at which he’s earned the right to his girlfriend’s virginity.”

Bellamy couldn’t help wincing, and she seemed to notice.

“Sorry. TMI?”

Keeping his eyes fixed on the road, uncertain how to react in light of this new information, he shrugged one shoulder. “Like I said, if you want to talk about it… I do have a sister, so I’m pretty familiar with a lot of the ways society can be shitty and misogynistic.”

Her phone started playing what he was pretty sure was the theme from Titanic, and she made a face. “Shit, I should’ve just blocked him. Do you — Would it be okay if I deal with this now? So I don’t have to do it later, when I’m alone.”

“Yeah, go ahead.” It really shouldn’t have been such a big deal that she trusted him with her vulnerability, that she’d rather have him as backup than be alone, but Bellamy felt a flutter of affection (and, okay, maybe a little bit of smug pride) nonetheless.

“Finn,” she said in a take no bullshit tone that made Bellamy extremely glad he was on her good side (and vow to stay there). “I told you, we’re done. Obviously you were only interested in me as a conquest, and I’m worth more than that. Any girl is worth more than that. No. There isn’t a single excuse that could justify the things you said to me tonight. Goodbye, Finn.” She stabbed at the screen.

“Kind of makes you wish we still used flip phones,” Bellamy offered lightly.

This time, there was genuine amusement in her laugh. “You know, I’ve never had a flip phone, but I imagine you’re right. Man, it would’ve been so satisfying to slam that sucker shut. Like, mic drop.”

“Yeah.” Glancing at her sidelong, Bellamy got the impression she was trying pretty damn hard to hold it together, and he mentally berated himself for his earlier self-congratulation. Clearly she wasn’t completely comfortable letting him see her break down, and after a disillusionment like that he certainly couldn’t blame her. “Do you wanna go straight home, or should I drive around a bit?”

Now there was gratitude in her smile, maybe even a little wonder. “How are you even real? Seriously.”

“What?” He shifted under her gaze.

“You’re a good guy, Bellamy Blake.”

Since he was driving, he couldn’t duck his head to hide his sudden embarrassment, like he wanted to. “I try.”

Three months later

Octavia deliberately dropped her social studies textbook next to her brother’s head with a huff.

Startling upright from his sprawl on the couch, he glared at her. “What the h — eck, O?” (He was trying not to swear in front of a certain impressionable twelve-year-old, but she certainly didn’t make it easy.)

“Answer your damn phone, Bell, it keeps ringing.” She had the nerve to look affronted, as though she hadn’t just almost given him a concussion.

“Language,” he admonished as he pulled the offending object out of his pocket, not bothering to check the caller ID before picking up. “Hello?”

“Hey, Bellamy.”

“Clarke! Hi. Just, um, give me one second.” Shooting his sister a warning look, he retreated to the kitchen, where he could still keep an eye on her but was hopefully out of her earshot. “What’s up?”

He could hear her hesitation even through the phone. They’d been texting quite a bit since the party, had even met up once or twice, but he had no idea what she was about to say or why she’d actually called him.

“So, it turns out the annual hospital gala is tonight.”

“Okay?”

“And that means my parents are — No, I told you, I’m sick!” She launched into what had to be the least convincing coughing fit Bellamy had ever heard, which was saying something considering his sister was an awful actress who hated school. “My parents will be gone all night. Want to come over?”

“Um. Give me one sec.” He poked his head back into the living room. “O, you wanna text Raven and see if she wants to sleep over with you?”

“Where are you going?” she demanded, even as she typed away on her phone.

“None of your business.”

A second later, she looked up with a smirk. “She says sure, but you owe her. And what does getting laid mean?”

“What did Raven even say?” Bellamy snatched the phone from her hands, only to find that Raven’s reply was perfectly PG, containing neither a mention of getting laid nor of favors to be repaid. Exasperated, he huffed and handed it back. “You little liar. And I know that you know what getting laid means — but it better not be from experience.”

Widening her eyes innocently, Octavia just shook her head.

“Bellamy? You still there?”

“Yeah. I can be there in twenty minutes, Clarke; just tell me when the coast is clear.”

“Will do.”

Was that nervousness in her voice, or was he just projecting?

Minutes later, Bellamy was staring down at the contents of his bedside table — or, more specifically, the box of condoms inside. (He’d bought them in solidarity with Miller, on a furtive drugstore run that their parents still didn’t know about and didn’t need to know about, but unlike his friend, Bellamy had yet to even open the packaging, let alone the contents.)

It wasn’t that they hadn’t talked about the possibility; it had actually come up the night they’d met, when Bellamy had admitted to being a virgin while Clarke refused to answer her own question, instead going off on a rant about disgusting double standards intermixed with dismissiveness towards the significance of the first time.

She probably kept her own supply of condoms. Knowing Clarke, it was hard to believe that she would leave it up to chance and trust.

And yet Bellamy still stood there, torn.

If he didn’t bring any, would she take it as a sign that he didn’t care enough about her to take necessary precautions? Or, worse, that he didn’t want her at all?

But on the other hand, if he brought some, would she take it as a sign that he didn’t respect her enough as a person not to assume that it was the reason she’d invited him over?

His phone buzzed with an incoming text:

20 minutes

I’m watching the clock :P

Resolutely, he shut the drawer.

#the 100 #the 100 fanfiction #bellarke #bellarke fic #mine #my fic #ff: as long as you keep comin' round

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selfless1978 · 5 years

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The Dance

Vicky woke slowly. Something that was very unusual for her. Normally she was jolted awake, haunted by things she saw in her dreams. Images she had lived through and still haunted her. It was one of the reasons she slept so poorly and why she chose to be a night owl.

This was also something she never told him about. Not wanting to seem more broken to him than she was letting on. After all, why would the strong one want to be around a woman who could break at literally any given reason, and almost had a few times in the last few months alone as she struggled to figure out what exactly she wanted.

No, this was still fresh and new for her to risk spoiling it with the shadows of her past and the demons haunting her mind.

Still, she was in somewhat of awe as she woke. Eyes blinking softly as she opened them. Looking around in a moment of confusion as she registered where she exactly was. And she was in his bed, naked and next to him with one of his large arms draped over her as he slept on. And suddenly everything came back to her on what exactly had happened last night.

Now, her body began to protest. He had wore her out, and she was definitely sore. All over the place, but none calling her attention more than the gentle, but good, ache between her legs and into her core.

He had made good on months of gentle threats. He had exhausted her, and in doing so forced her into a sleep that was restful. Because he had unknowingly hit upon the reason why she pushed herself past the point of exhaustion on a regular basis, so her mind would be to tired to dream.

Vicky looked at his sleeping face with something akin to wonder. Something that would probably have confused him if he were awake to see it. Probably not understanding the reason behind the soft look, and the gentle hand that rested now lightly on his cheek.

She could have stayed like this, curled up next to him under that tree trunk arm. The woman was very reluctant to move, both because she was completely comfortable and at ease here, and she didn’t want to risk waking him. Her screaming bladder had other ideas though.

Damn bladder.

With painstaking effort, slowly removing his heavy arm and wincing when she noticed he was partially lying on her long hair, Vicky somehow managed to slip out of the tangled covers of the bed and went on the hunt for a toilet.

A few moments later, she was looking at herself in the mirror as the toilet made it’s racket behind her. As she washed her hands, she looked in the mirror. Her hair was a messy, tangled, frightheap and there were a few marks that reminded her vividly as how she got them. Her face flushed as she remembered. He, definitely didn’t have any qualms of marking her. Not that her scratching nails were any better. Lord, he had done something to her last night, she had lost almost all control.

She quickly washed her face and struggled to bring her hip length hair back into some sense of normalcy. It wasn’t perfect, but at least she didn’t look like she stuck her finger in a light socket anymore. It would have to do.

The next surprise came in the form of the loud sound that came out of her stomach. She probably should shower or something first, but she was suddenly ravenously hungry. Shower could wait, she wanted food.

This was surprising to her because Vicky really wasn’t much of a morning anything. Not a happy person when she first woke up, for reasons already mentioned, and couldn’t really eat. She was just never hungry. In fact, she tended to go most of the day without really eating anything, but was a ravenous carnivore when supper time came around. That came from years of sleeping in, usually until noon. If she could sleep at all. Breakfast, just never was a priority for her.

On silent feet, she padded back out and grabbed her phone, putting on some music as she now shifted towards his kitchen. Her finger tapped lightly on her pursed lips as she took a moment to survey the space. Wondering where he kept what before the phone was set down and she began to gather things.

Music filled her ears as she started, the songs in the playlist she picked were slow, and quiet. And many of them favorites. and, as usual, she began to hum and sing softly along while being very mindful to not reach screeching levels so she wouldn’t wake him up.

Somewhere in the middle of this soft music breakfast making Vicky had decided that Raph was going to get breakfast too. After all, it wasn’t fair that she cook just for herself using his stuff. And, she wanted to do something special for him.

Soon enough, the smells coming from the stove was really making her mouth water, good Lord she was starving, but even this couldn’t keep her mind from wandering. Where she should have focused on the cooking food, her brain went everywhere else, mainly thinking about him.

About Raph.

This had been something she never really expected to happen. Almost her entire attention had been focused on another brother for so long, she hadn’t even considered this possibility. She stared blankly at the stove top as her mind replayed the last few months. Even during her mental journey, she continued to sing softly. The current song, that she had put on repeat, forcing her to think on the time passed and subject even harder.

What would I do without your smart mouth Drawing me in, and you kicking me out Got my head spinning, no kidding, I can't pin you down What's going on in that beautiful mind I'm on your magical mystery ride And I'm so dizzy, don't know what hit me, but I'll be alright

What would she do? She didn’t know. Raph had somehow quietly snuck up behind her while she was mooning over someone else. His teasing and flirting becoming more and more something she had looked forward to. She enjoyed trading snarky but playful insults with him. Nothing really bad, just things that brought a smile to both their faces. Soon enough she found herself more drawn to him. Most of her time visiting was spent with him. And things just finally came to a head. A tension that had been slowly growing finally evolved into...this.

Whatever this was.

My head's under water But I'm breathing fine You're crazy and I'm out of my mind

There was still a large amount of confusion in her. This was something she knew and understood one night together wouldn’t fix. Her head was swimming, her thoughts remained on him, she wondered, she worried. What if she really wasn’t what he wanted. Raph was impulsive, a tease, flirt and could be at times a grumpy ol’ bear, but she couldn’t deny he had treated her with dignity and respect.

He was Raph, and she began to wonder if she was biting off more than she could chew with him. She had no regrets, but she did wonder, what next?

'Cause all of me Loves all of you Love your curves and all your edges All your perfect imperfections Give your all to me I'll give my all to you You're my end and my beginning Even when I lose I'm winning 'Cause I give you all, all of me And you give me all, all of you

Her humming turned to soft singing. Completely unaware that she did it because her mind was still thinking of Raph. And because of that she missed the tell tale sign of the eggs starting to turn a dangerous brown on the edges as she stirred the hash browns.

Vicky was lost in her own world now. Images of the past mixing with hopes of the future and the thousand possible outcomes. Already admitting to herself that she was growing more attached to him than she probably should. Even if he had brushed that worry away. Just because he dismissed it didn’t mean it wouldn’t still plague her.

She was that kind of person who had a hard time letting comforting words actually comfort. Anything could be said in the heat of the moment and later something else was usually done. She had been on the receiving end of that far too many times to just let words alone comfort her.

She snapped back to reality when one of the eggs let out a large, sizzling pop. Some of the grease pegging her on her still bare stomach. She ignored the brief pain as she looked at the stove in dismay.

“Oh no….” Her voice was on the edge of tears.

Smoke, was billowing out of the oven, probably protesting the now burnt presence of the biscuits in there. Hurriedly she opened the appliance, and was met with a large plume of the choking stuff before the sight of black biscuits was revealed.

“God dammit!” She hissed softly as she snatched them out of the oven, dropping the baking pan onto the counter with a clatter. The oven mitt was removed and thrown against the wall in her frustration. Just as her attention came back to the eggs, the edges now black and turned into themselves. This too was hurriedly removed from heat and the pan dumped into the sink. Eggs completely ruined.

Hash browns, she still had the hash browns, right?

Nope. Here, she hadn’t turned the heat up enough and they were a soggy, limp clump of something in the middle of the pan.

Now she fought to hold in her tears as she looked at the wonderful mess in front of her. “It’s ok.” She tried to calm herself. “Just try again. You can still surprise him.”

“So,” Vicky jumped at the sound and spun quickly to see Raph standing there, placing a toothpick in his mouth as his eyes wandered around her masterpiece of mayhem “looks like I need ta get ya singing and cookin’ lessons. Can’t have ya in here demolishing my kitchen on a regular basis while my poor ears suffer.”

How many times do I have to tell you Even when you're crying you're beautiful too The world is beating you down, I'm around through every move You're my downfall, you're my muse My worst distraction, my rhythm and blues I can't stop singing, it's ringing, in my head for you

She stood there, her hands wringing each other as she stared at him. The tears now rapidly building. Her attempt was now completely ruined and she closed her eyes tight to try and hold those damn little tattling balls of water in her eyes. She even dropped her head, hiding behind her hair as she turned away. Not saying anything to him as she began to clean up her mess. Once she was out of his view, she felt the moisture trail down her cheeks. Don’t let him see them, just don’t let him see them....

Before she could even wipe them away, she was gently turned around and found herself pulled against his chest and his arms pinned her there as he hugged her. Very gently despite his massive frame. His voice so low, and comforting, that she felt it rumble in his chest.

“Hey, ’s okay.” He felt his head rest on top of hers.

“No it’s not.” Vicky blubbered against him. “I wanted to make you breakfast, and I ruined it.”

Raph was quiet a moment, trying to figure out what to say, and to figure out why a messed up meal preparation set her off this bad. It was just food after all. Maybe there was something deeper going on in that head of hers. He just remained quiet, holding her against him as she cried herself out.

My head's under water But I'm breathing fine You're crazy and I'm out of my mind

She did slowly calm. Her soft crying turning into messy hiccups before the last tear was just a moist memory on her skin. Vicky took a deep, shuddering breath and leaned against his bare chest. Eyes closed as she held him and calmed more. The most frightening looking of the four brothers being the one who seemed to know to calm her.

“I’m sorry.” She finally mumbled into his chest.

“Fer what?” He asked his tone amused. “Smoking me out of my home or rubbing yer snot all over me?”

Vicky laughed lightly and looked up at him. “For both.”

He just grinned back at her.

“Dance with me.” Came suddenly.

“What?”

“You heard me, I want you to dance with me. Please.”

“Well, since ya at least said please....” He huffed a little and Vicky grinned at him, clearly seeing through his grumpy façade.

It wasn’t much of a dance per say. The two stayed close, Vicky still against his chest as they moved slowly and softly to the piano sounds that came out of her phone. Their gentle swaying doing even more to calm the flighty woman’s nerves. Soon enough she had her eyes closed, just happy to be next to him, feeling his large frame against hers as they danced.

Cards on the table, we're both showing hearts Risking it all, though it's hard

Close to the end of the song, she looked up at him again. Her eyes now soft and a hand reached up to cup his cheek, much like she had done earlier while he was still sleeping. “Thank you, Raph. For everything.”

Then she pulled his head down for a gentle kiss before the big loon could say something snarky like ‘I should thank you fer not burning down my kitchen.’

I give you all, all of me And you give me all, all of you

The song faded, but they still held each other close for a few moments. Vicky not really ready to let go and Raph just letting her have what she needed at the moment.

Finally, she pulled away with a light sigh and looked at her mess. “I suppose I should clean this up.”

“Would be nice. Since you made the damn mess. Then I’ll help ya and we can have a decent breakfast instead of this crap. I sure as hell ain’t eatin’ that.”

Raph quickly found out she had regained her own brand of snarky when she whipped out a dishtowel and popped him on his still bare ass with it.

“Oh, babe, it’s on now.”

Vicky just giggled and ran, with the large turtle right on her heels.

@tri-point-bruiser

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pacificbookworm · 7 years

Text

This next chapter of Mora is being a bit harder for me to write so I’m not getting my dose of Mora I need so did another questionnaire. I like doing these because as I write her she is getting more flushed out and being a more real person. Writing her early life with @theravenandthepawn is helping as well. I am really in love with this character. Mora and Neoma have become something I think about all the time (even on the bus and at work). Why do I fall in love with characters I never own the rights to and can only ever do fan fiction ><

The questionnaire has been edited by me, original here: http://thewriterowl.blogspot.ca/2016/03/ultimate-character-questionnaire.html

Anyone interested in the visuals I keep to help me with Mora can find them here:

https://open.spotify.com/user/12175945672/playlist/2eSkccZWyOpBpLP8GM5Qfu

https://open.spotify.com/user/12175945672/playlist/5Mh4KbVbQQp5u6ozS68C1X

https://www.pinterest.com/fabledtales/mora/?eq=mora&etslf=4903

Basics

What is your name?

Mora Shandra

What is your name’s origin and meaning, and how was it chosen?

N/A Haven’t spent time much on her parents, I think if I do this I would have to collaborate with Raven about where she was born and who her dad was. I took the easy way out, she doesn’t remember where she was born other than it was a Barony.

Any nicknames?

A lot of disrespectful names are said behind her back. The Bastard would probably be the most common. When she was young she would fight anyone who would say it to her face, as an older Mora she has grown too tired to fight anymore. She just frowns and usually leaves or walks away.

How tall are you?

I have her about 5′4″ - 5′6″, average.

Who do you live with or near, if anyone?

She lives alone in the poor district. She could afford better accommodations but she “knows her place” as she puts it and stays with her own kind. She is a flea bottom peasant even though her trade now makes her off the craftsman class and I’m sure Zale could make her a noble.

Where is your residence and what is it like?

It is a very old building that needs to be torn down. The lock sticks and the door is badly warped. Inside, the fireplace is unusable so it gets quite cold in the winter. She has an old table in the main room with a couch that is at least a decade old. On the mantle of the useless fireplace is a small alter to Septriss (god of the moon and magic). She has a 2x4 she uses to lean against her door latch as a lock. There is a window in the main room which is so badly warped it doesn’t open.

In a separate room is a straw mattress bed and a large window looking out over the poor district. In the same room is the tub which doesn’t have running water, but does have a plug to drain it. Mora just uses her wash basin to wash herself and the tub sits empty. Sometimes when she is really drunk she sleeps in it. There is a shared bathroom down the hall from her apartment. There is no running water in the bullding so it is basically a vault toilet.

The whole building creaks horribly in a bad storm and her apartment leaks.

What is your hometown and local culture like?

She doesn’t remember (I haven’t really spent time on this).

Who are your parents?

Her mother was a washerwoman who sometimes laid with men to get by. It is likely her father is one of these men. Her mother was a woman who was born in the gutters and likely died in the gutters (Mora ran away from home as a child). She was bitter about it. For some reason, instead of aborting the child, she allowed Mora to be born and kept her. Her mother never had a kind word for her and reminded her constantly of the burden she was. After Mora was born she stopped bringing men into the hut but Mora knew what her mother was doing.

Are you married, single, seeking a relationship, avoiding romance?

After Richard died Mora was heartbroken. She wrapped her heart in cold iron and kept everyone at an arm’s distance. She doesn’t open up to anyone ever. If anyone tries to force her to open up she reacts violently. She would run away before ever letting in. She is very afraid of opening her heart again. She carries the guilt and the loss on her like a weight.

For someone to love her she would have to lost herself, which I don’t see happening on her own. If someone really wanted to be with her they would have to fight her and not run away. It would have to be someone very patient and stubborn. This for me, makes Mora one of my most saddest characters. She is very strong, stubborn, can survive almost anything, but she can’t open up to others and let them in. Even still though, she does care for people she is just not willing to admit it or face it.

What is your class/income level?

Peasant

What is your income source and/or occupation?

She was a highwayman for a few years than worked as a mercenary for a noble. She is now retired and maps the stars.

What is your education?

Private tutor after retiring from being a mercenary. Richard taught her a little to read and write her name.

What is your worldview/religion? What is your level of devotion to that philosophy?

She worships Septriss, god of moon, magic, and knowledge. When she was a little girl she ran away from home and ran into trouble the following night. A band of brigands captured and were going to hurt her when a mercenary camping nearby heard her screams. He killed the men and saved her under the light of a harvest moon. It made a big impression on her child mind. She became obsessed with the moon and eventually through persistence she discovered Septriss. She couldn’t really read until much later in her life so her worship is very unconventional and she is one of the very few who are not Septrinian (lizard folk), a wizard/mage, or a sage that worship him.

What are your current life problems?

Oh so many. I think her biggest problem in life is she doesn’t let anyone in. She also believes she can handle anything on her own and she doesn’t need help. She is stubborn as a mule and has a fiery tongue to match it.

She is blind to whatever relationship she has to others around her. Someone could be actively trying to court her and she probably would not notice because she is trying to hard to keep people at arm’s distance.

Who (or what) are your enemies?

I haven’t thought of any named enemies, but she picked up a few in her travels with the Blades.

What are your priorities in life?

She doesn’t really have any. Mora at the time of the Crown of Chains (the time period in which I am writing) is just basically existing. I guess keeping herself alive and out of the dungeon cells than.

What is your goal in life? What is your motivation for this goal?

Mora would like to see her kind raised up. Her loyalty to Zale keeps her from rebelling with the people, but when he dies there is no one around to keep her straight. She is only loyal to Zale, she is not loyal to the Malidur family. She wouldn’t hesitate to rise up against them if Zale were out of the picture.

Other than that I don’t think she has much in way of goals (at least not yet).

What changes do you undergo by the end of the story (emotional, physical, philosophical, relational, etc)?

From the time Zale pardons her to the time she leaves Victarith she goes through a huge change. At the start she was a scared 15 year old girl traveling with 5 strangers, most of them men, to an older, strong willed woman. Before she was tiimid with Zale, these days she will and has told him off and has no filter when she speaks to him. Most see him as the king proper and treat him like such, Mora will speak to him as she would one of her own and doesn’t fear the repercussions from it. When she fights with Zale, it isn’t pretty. She wouldn’t be afraid to tell Zale to ‘fuck off’ even though he is a high noble.

She grew into a woman with the Blades, travveling with them for over 15 years, closer to two decades. In the time she took a life and more after that. It changes you and it took whatever innocense she had left (though how innocent can you be born in flea bottom). I think that would have had an impact on the other Blades members but Mora proved to be a valid asset because she would not hesitate to do something to dangerous. While the others are busy of talking about to jump in the fire she would drop her blue cloak and run into it without hesitation. This has helped her to realize she is braver than she thinks and how strong she is.

But she has also changed for the worst. Zale did not pardon Richard and was heartbroken by her loss. Zale couldn’t or didn’t wish to linger on this and Mora was surrounded by hardened men, two arrogant men, and a woman who wad an idealist and who didn’t spend mch time getting to know Mora. On top of that Tork harassed and teased Mora. This all made Mora retreat within herself and hide her pain. It made her a little bitter and angry and she lost the softness of her youth. She hardly smiled and her eyes were always a little sad. Surrounded by people, she felt utterly alone and very heartbroken.

Eventually this is what would encourage to drink more and encouraged her to be even more reckless. Mora only wears leather armor, maybr a chainmail chest peiece, and she runs into battle with the big boys unconcerned about her saftey. Luckily, she is a capable fighter.

What is your central philosophy in life?

She has a very dark view of the world and believes in the wolf or lamb philosophy.

What moral code do you follow and why?

Because of Zale she has honor. She always defends the weak and she will give everything she owns, even the clothes on her back, to help others. I know that is honorable, where it gets shaky is if you are willing to rob someone blind because they are better off than you, are you really honorable? Mora is in kind of a grey zone.

What is your outlook on life?

She has a very dark and morbid outlook.

What do you wish would happen to you?

Mora wishes for death to be reunited with what she believes are the only people who cared for her.

What do you want to hide?

She wants to hide her feelings and emotions. I based her off of the medieval society since that is what seemed closest to what Raven had his world set in, so I based her off a patriarchy world. She dresses and acts man-ish and acts tough like them and hides her emotions and likes people to think she doesn’t feel much. Its a facade.

What languages do you know?

She only knows common.

What do you worry most about?

She is terrified of the plague and showing weakness. If anyone tries to get close or tries to get her to open up she freaks out.

What are your phobias?

Plague

What are your insecurities?

She believes she has no value because she is a bastard and now she is an old maid. She is also a little self conscious about her ability to read and write since she gained it in later life. She reads and writes well enough.

How is your self-confidence?

She is very self confident despite her issues. She is perhaps a little too self confident about her fighting skills.

What is your political stance?

She hates the feudal society she lives in (to be clear, if you said to her it was a feudal society she would have no idea what you’re talking about). She would love to see the people rise up and topple the nobles.

Do you like what you do for a living? If so, why? If not, what do you wish you could do instead?

She likes what she does now for a living. She maps the stars and constellations. Her late training and education in life was a boon from Zale for all the years she spent in the Blades. It gave her a trade so she doesn’t have to spend the rest of her life as a mercenary.

Where do you feel most at home?

She wanders the dangerous woods at night. She feels at home there because she can be alone and be herself where there is no one to watch her and criticize her.

Who do you look up do?

She idolizes and looks up to Richard. She was only with him about 1 1/2-2 years, but he made a big impact on her. He was a disgraced noble who didn’t give the caste system much value. He was honorable, though he turned to be a highwayman.

I think a part of her does look up to Zale even though she is a bit abrasive with him.

When and where were you the happiest?

She was the most happiest in the woods with Richard and the boys. They were her family. Richard taught her to read a little and to write her name and he taught her the basics of sword. She learned more from him and the other boys in the time they were together. Mora longs to have those moments back and would do almost anything to be back there.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

I think Mora would like to know who her father was. Mora would tell you she wished she could turn off her emotions, but really she just needs to release the weight she has been carrying for years.

How do you feel about showing your emotions?

Mora will not show emotion in front of anyone, if she feels like she is going to lose control she will quickly walk away.

Body

What kind of creature are you (elf, human, alien, etc)?

Human, Plains human.

What are your abnormalities (deformity, birthmark, allergies)?

In her travels there was a priestess who traveled with them and she received much healing, so she doesn’t have many scars. For someone born in the gutter, she is remarkably mark free. She is a very plain and not strikingly beautiful but her eyes show her emotion and sometimes will strike you. She has a tattoo of a crescent moon over her chest, it is hard to see and sometimes you can see just the edge.

What is your figure like (thin, muscular, pudgy)?

She grew up poor and did not have food to eat all the time. The long malnourishment made her slender but she has strength. Her thighs, abdomen, and arms are strong and she is very agile. But most of the Blades (except Tork) could beat her in a strength contest.

How fit are you?

She is very fit.

What is your hair and eye color?

She has dark walnut brown hair that looks black in the shadow and hazel eyes.

What is your hair texture and style?

She has long slightly wavy hair. It is very thick.

What is your face shape and features (freckles, big eyes, zits, reddish cheeks, birthmark, etc.)

She has a rounded v-shape face. Her birthmark is on her left wrist on the inside.

How old are you?

Mora doesn’t know how old she is. At the time of the Crown of Chains she is in her 30′s. She is the youngest member of the Blades. I would say something like 32-36.

What kind of colors do you wear?

She wears all colors.

What kind of clothing do you wear?

She dresses in mens clothing. It is always a little big on her. She is too much of a city girl so she still binds her breasts unlike the country women. It is well tailored cotton, one of the few things she’ll spend a little coin on.

What kind of clothing do you hate on yourself/others?

Dress. Don’t try to put her in a dress.

What accessories do you frequently have?

She has a mithril necklace with Septriss’s symbol on it.

How do you feel about your appearance?

She finds herself very plain. When the beautiful noble women are around she admires their beauty and it makes her self conscious. She thinks the queen is beautiful even though she doesn’t trust her.

What is your skin like (smooth, pale, dark, rough, tight, saggy, scarred, etc)?

She has very pale skin. She has beauty marks from sunburns and her hands are calloused from years of using a sword and labor. She has crows feet and frown lines but otherwise her skin is flawless, a product of Victaria’s healing.

How is your health? Any problems? What was your health like as a child?

When she was a child she was malnourished but she survived. Her health is surprisingly good even though she drinks too much. Likely a result of Victaria’s healing.

What are your common movement habits and demeanor (swaying, graceful, snapping, wringing hands, staying perfectly still, glancing around, stumbling, etc)?

She stares off into space sometimes when she is remembering things. She moves gracefully.

What is your race/ethnicity/nationality?

She is a plains human.

What food do you usually eat (amount, kind of food, what times of day)? What food do you like to eat?

She eats simple, hearty food. She sometimes only eats once a day. She is used to hunger so it doesn’t bother her much. She likes chocolate and coffee, but its really expensive. She also loves fresh fruit and real butter and fresh bread.

What do you like to drink?

She drinks rum and occasionally brandy. She hates moonshine and whisky, which is unfortunate, since she is surrounded by wheat, wild and cultivated.

What is in your refrigerator?

She buys food as she needs it.

What do you smell like (cologne, sweat, musty, cats, etc)?

Even though Mora doesn’t have a proper bath she is very clean. She uses the bathhouse, who never charges her. One of the longtime employees knows Mora and is protective of her, the owner doesn’t charge her because of her affiliation with Zale. She is there most days, but whether or not she goes, she cleans herself with her washer basin in her apartment. Its just sometimes her hair goes a few days without being washed.

What would you change about yourself physically if you could?

She wishes she were born a man.

Past

When and where were you born?

She was born in a Barony.

What are your past occupations and career goals?

She used to take odd jobs here and there to get by and traveled city to city. Being a young girl she got some sympathy. After she encountered Richard’s highway group and joined them she did that for a year to two years before working for Zale.

As a child, what did you want to be and do when you grew up? Did you do it? How do you feel about that?

She just wanted to be free and to be loved. She almost gave up on it once until she ran into Richard, and after his death she was heartbroken and the dream got lost.

What are your greatest accomplishment?

The Blades achieved many goals and fought many battles and saved lives. I think her greatest accomplishment is to survive all she did.

What are your greatest failures?

To her, her greatest failure is not standing up to Zale about Richard and the boys a demanding if he free her, he free all of them.

It would also be very tragic is she found love or realized she loved someone too late, but I see that happening all to easily with her. It would be dependent on the person or writer.

What is the worst thing that ever happened to you?

A lot of really horrible things have happened to her, but the worst was losing Richard.

What is the best thing that ever happened to you, or your most cherished memory?

Again, being with Richard.

What do you regret?

She regrets not trying to save Richard, she regrets not stabbing the magic user that caught them.

What do you remember most about your childhood?

She remembers the sorrow most, the good memories are lost and hard to find but sometimes she’ll have a good memory.

What was your favorite thing to do as a child?

She used to go to the boundary of the Barony and think about running away. Eventually she got the courage. She also loved running through the wheat fields with her friends and using the rainstorms as baths.

What did you dislike most as a child?

The baron. He was cruel and used women as objects.

Personality

What are your vices?

She drinks, occasionally uses an intoxicating herb,.

What are your virtues?

She does actually have honor and courage, and she is very charitable to the less fortunate.

What is your typical attitude?

She is bitter and angry, but underneath that she is vulnerable and soft.

What are your quirks (only eats raw meat, collects action figures, always wears rubber band on wrist, etc)?

Sneezes when she goes from a dark/shadowed place to bright sunlight, switches to her normal accent when tired or drunk, doesn’t know how to swim.

What would make you smile?

Happy memories, the rare time she dances (as rare a golden egg laying goose), being alone in the woods (she is a city girl and lived in cities most of her life, so the woods seem strange and exotic to her)

What would make you laugh?

She has a sense of humor, she is very cheeky when she wants to be.

What would make you cry?

She cries for those she misses and for the things she wishes she should have done.

What makes you calm down?

Drinking, some of the Blades members can talk her down (not Tork), having a quiet moment away from people

What makes you revved up?

The adrenaline rush of a fight

What do you do when you are happy?

She drinks, dances, and helps those in the poor district.

What do you do when you are stressed?

She drinks and keeps away from people

What do you do when you are upset?

When she is really upset she will go out to the fields at night where it is quiet or hides in her apartment.

What do you do when you are angry?

Mora is hell when she is angry. She has a temper and a fire within her.

What are your habits (good or bad)?

Touches her necklace when she is feeling emotion or worries, runs her hand over the runes on her longsword when she is cleaning it (she doesn’t know what it says), her blades have a permanent edge but she always runs her finger along it when she cleans them and cuts herself, she has a habit of looking at someone as if to say something and then turning away without a word.

What is something you can’t resist?

Helping an innocent, fresh fruit, butter.

What is something most people do not know about you?

I think most people don’t really know Mora. She does care for people and she is a little lonely but she hides that within herself. She has people she cares deeply for but she will never admit it. She is also very intelligent which is missed because she is a gutter rat and wasn’t educated until later in life.

What are your areas of expertise?

She knows how highwaymen work and she knows how to be a decoy. Later in life she gains the cartography skill in making star maps.

What is hard for you to do?

To open up to people and sometimes being social is hard for her.

What special skills do you have?

Map making, highwaymen traps, dirty fighting.

What weather and physical conditions do you like?

She loves the rain and thunderstorms, also likes warm summer nights when the wind blows through the wheat creating whispers.

What would you do all day if you could do anything you wanted?

Depends on her mood. It could be go to the library, walk in the wheat fields, or walk in the forest.

Relationships

Who would you ask for help in a tight spot?

No she would not.

Who’s company do you enjoy?

Srei, he owns the tavern and is a retired pirate.

How often do you see family and friends?

Family, never, friends she sees often, though she doesn’t call them friends.

How do you interact with other people (cold, awkward, friendly)?

Very awkward and distant.

Who is your family and what are they like?

Mother was a washerwoman who sometimes laid with men for money. She didn’t treat Mora well at all, but made sure there was some food on the table most nights. She doesn’t know her father.

If you could convince any one person or group of people of one thing, what would that be?

To end the caste system and force nobles to treat peasants fair.

What is the main quality or aspect you look for in a person (good looking, is talkative, seems helpful, has money, etc.)?

She likes people who are more like her. The lower classes and dredge of society. She wants nothing to do with thieves or people who pray on the innocent and weak. She says she likes men with calloused hands. She considers nobles to be ‘soft handed’ who get others to do their work (sometimes dirty) for them.

What is something people often misunderstand about you?

They think she is either a bitch or promiscuous because they can’t believe a woman of her age never married or had a lover.

Can people get the gist of who you are when first meeting you, or is your true self so hidden we would need to know you for a long time? Or somewhere in between?

She is somewhere in between.

How do you feel about other people’s worldview/religions?

She doesn’t care what other people believe.

How do most people see you?

She is invisible to most people. She stays on the outside and avoids attention.

What person or group of people do you dislike the most, and why?

She hates nobles and knights. She sees them as the dredge of the commnfolk and is weary of watching them break their backs to appease the nobles.

How do you greet people (if you greet people at all)?

She smiles and nods and says the local greeting.

How do you feel about and treat authority?

She doesn’t respect authority at all, even after years of traveling with Zale.

Speech

How do you speak (speak loudly, quickly, whispering, interrupting, talkative, etc)?

She has an accent which she tries to hide. Her vocabulary is like that of someone born in flea bottom and she doesn’t try to soften the blow, she is blunt and to the point.

What words and phrases do you use frequently (omg, dude, like, um, for pete’s sakes,)?

“petticoat”, her nickname for fluffy, weak women.

What expletives do you use in surprise or irritation (swears, gasps, yowza, etc)?

She uses them all.

Do you speak properly or often use slang and bad grammar?

Slang and bad grammar.

Does your speaking style change when you’re around certain people? If so, how?

Yes. She speaks more “normal” around the Blades and others unless tired or drunk. When she is around her own she talks normal.

What is your accent or dialect?

It is from wherever she is from.

What is your pitch and voice texture?

Mora talks very soft when she is upset. She has an average tone for a woman, but not high pitched.

Situations

What are the five worst things possible to happen to you?

1. Any time she has to go to the castle

2. Ending up alone. Mora completely alone would be a very sad thing.

3. Getting the plague.

4. Getting old and weak, she has no family or anyone to look after her when she gets old.

5. Disappointing those around her, it would devastate her.

How would you react in a fight?

She fights dirty and uses objects since she is not overly strong.

What do you do when you’re bored (go crazy, tap your fingers, hum)?

She drinks, works at her trade, and walks around beyond the walls of Victarith.

What are you or would you be embarrassed about?

She is embarrassed when her emotions get the best of her. She is also very sensitive about being a bastard.

What is the first thing you do every morning (go for a jog, check your phone, take a pill, check your own pulse, etc)?

She washes herself and sits in the sun to help her wake up while she waits for her tea to brew. She also lights an incense stick.

What would you do with 5 million dollars?

She would buy a land parcel and create a community where everyone was equal and would look after each other. There would be no “peasants”.

If you could teleport anywhere, where would you go (Hawaii, your mom’s house, the theatre, that old barn you used to play in, etc)?

Mora has a longing to know who she is and where she is from. She also has a desire to kill the baron.

What is your favorite holiday and how do you celebrate it?

It would probably be a Septrinian holiday and I don’t know what that would be.

What do you spend most of your day doing?

Working at her trade, getting the few things she needs at market, training.

How do you want to die (suddenly, alone, with a certain person near you, etc.)?

She wants to die fighting before she gets old.

What is the worst you’ve ever been injured or sick (broken arm, cancer, hang nail)?

She has popped her shoulder out of place, broke some bones in her hand, bruised ribs, had a concussion, and would have been burned badly by the black dragon had not Travinter pulled her out of the way. She has also been stabbed and cut many numbers of times and countless bruises.

Objects

What object(s) do you like to keep near you?

Her Septris necklace, her curved dagger, her blue cloak.

What is in your backpack, purse, or closet?

She would have a few dry rations. Having group up hungry she can go without food longer than most. She’ll also have a rudimentary blanket and flint and steel (she is a city girl), her water skein, and some sparse medical supplies (needle, thread, boot knife for burning wounds shut).

If there was a fire in your house and you only had time to grab whatever you could carry, what would it be?

Her weapons.

What is your most valued possession (for a reason other than monetary value)?

The necklace of Septriss. She got in from a traveling merchant while with the Blades and has never taken it off since. It has become her worry stone and source of comfort. Mora is afraid of truly being alone and it comforts her. Her curved dagger is also very precious because it was made for her and is more suited than her longsword which is a bit too heavy for her. She can defend herself far better with it than her sword.

Do you still have any possessions from your childhood?

She had nothing as a child but the clothes on her back.

Random

What is your symbol?

A crescent moon.

What does your signature look like?

Her name printed.

What is your theme song?

Stolen Roses by Karen Elson

What is something that really annoys you (loud people, music that is too quite, when your mom vacuums at three in the morning, the sound of trickling water)?

Arrogance, anytime Tork smiles, holy proclamations, when wealthy people pretend to care by giving out free bread or “reading to the poor children”

What is the place you hate the worst (standing in line at McDonalds, the salon, Toledo Ohio, etc.)?

The castle

What is your favorite kind of entertainment and what type of content do you like (books, movies, comics, romance, sci-fi, humor)?

Bare fist fights, tavern brawls, books, listening to people talk of far away lands

What is you favorite celebrity or historical figure?

Any strong willed woman

What were you doing before this story started?

She was part of a highwaymen group

What time period do you wish you lived in? Past, future?

Future

If you were and animal, what kind would you be?

A falcon

Do you or have you ever had any pets?

And finally... the most important question of all....What is your favorite color (and why)?

Green, the color of the sky before a terrible thunderstorm.

#mora #questionnaire

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ricardosousalemos · 8 years

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Drake: More Life

Drake’s VIEWS was a commercial pinnacle and a creative and personal dead end. He scored the biggest hit of his career with “One Dance,” but the album surrounding it was so aggrieved and solipsistic you felt like you were insulting Drake by listening to it. His telepathic bond with producer Noah “40” Shebib had turned stale and over its punishing 80-plus minutes he wrung every last drop of sour grapes from his Beta-Male Conqueror persona. He had crushed his frenemies, seen them driven before him, and heard the lamentations of their women—or at least purposefully ignored their texts. What was next but exile?

He seems to be tacitly admitting to this stagnation throughout the warm, pulsing, and generous More Life. His solution is a “Playlist” (not a big old serious Album, the implication goes, nor one of those little “mixtapes” other rappers bother with) that forces Drake out into the sunlight again, where he can once again mingle with the people. On More Life’s closing track “Do Not Disturb,” he acknowledges the bleak spot he was in: “I was an angry youth while I was writing VIEWS/Saw a side of myself that I just never knew.” He even lets his mother pipe in with a voice message two-thirds of the way through the record on “Can’t Have Everything” as she admonishes her son for the hostile, suspicious streak he was nurturing. “That attitude will just hold you back in this life, and you’re going to continue to feel alienated,” she advises.

He doesn’t exactly drop the attitude, but he does play the background on More Life, implicitly acknowledging that he is often the least appealing element of his massively successful art. Dialing back on his self-pity allows all his skills that have kept him on top to float back to the surface: his ear for melodies, his sophisticated tastes, his curation skills. The more voices he lets into the frame, the fuller and richer the results, and More Life bursts with energy and lush sounds—more guests, more genres, more producers, more life. It is as confident, relaxed, and appealing as he’s sounded in a couple of years.

Drake steps back and lets the dusky-voiced 19-year-old British singer Jorja Smith soar over a sinuous club track from the rising South African house producer Black Coffee on the gorgeous “Get It Together.” Black Coffee and Jorja comprise at least 80 percent of the song; Drake is mostly relegated to mumbling or doubling the hook. Sampha bleeds his gorgeous hurt over the entirety of “4422,” with no one else in sight, and Skepta claims an entire track, boasting that he “died and came back as Fela Kuti.” Young Thug steals not one but two songs, spitting a dense verse with no vocal filter on “Sacrifices” and yelping along with the roots-reggae horns of “Ice Melts.”

Throughout, Drake’s appetite for the music of other cultures remains ravenous. “I switch flow like I switch time zone,” he raps on “Gyalchester,” the song title itself a patois nickname for the neighborhood of Manchester. On “Sacrifices,” he boasts “I got Dubai plates in the California state.” In both reach and sound, Drake may now be one of the most global pop stars in history. He is shrewd and relentless about his globe-trotting on More Life: “Dis a habibis ting, yeah?” he asks on the intro to a track called “Portland,” invoking a vivid zone of confusion where Arabic and Caribbean slang collides with Atlanta’s own Quavo somewhere in the rainy Pacific Northwest.

As always, there are moments when it’s unclear what Drake thinks he is borrowing. He tackles “No Long Talk” in an unsteady tough-guy patois—“things” turns to to “tings” but then sneaks back into “things” when he’s not watching it, so he sounds a bit more like a kid with a hairbrush in the mirror than he probably intends. He also proudly shouts out his bodyguard Baka Not Nice, a man who faced human trafficking charges and was imprisoned on domestic assault charges (Drake boasts that Baka’s “quick to let a motherfuckin’ TEC slam”). It’s a reminder of his unsavory tendency to borrow street credibility from figures like Baka who have paid the price for it, the same impulse that had him pointing to a “prison visit” on his song “Two Birds, One Stone” as evidence that he wasn’t some “privileged kid.” Who stunts about visiting a prison?

As one of the first rap superstars forged entirely outside the crucible of the American drug war, Drake has always had a confused relationship to the “rules” of hip-hop. This makes his moments of flexing interesting if only for the friction they generate between the role he’s assuming and the figure he cuts. He opens More Life with “Free Smoke,” a hard-charging and take-no-prisoners track, the sort of moment on a rap album where you ruthlessly cut down challengers and re-establish your dominance. But he spends it remembering how he used to eat Applebee’s and Outback, or the time he drunk-texted J. Lo (“It was an old number so it bounced back”). He does address his disgraced foe Meek Mill, who fell on a sword trying to expose Drake as a fraud: "How you let the kid fighting ghostwriting rumors turn you to a ghost?” he taunts. This is a peculiarly self-skewering line of attack, a bit like punching yourself in the face before going for your opponent’s gut. It doesn’t exactly elicit the classic, crowd-of-bystanders “ooooh!” that direct shots are supposed to incite; more of a “uh...hmmm.”

This pluralistic and self-contradicting identity has always been part and parcel of Drake’s inheritance to hip-hop; it will be a large part of his legacy. Name a pop star who has ever had a clearer picture of their place in the culture, who senses exactly what they can get away with and what they can’t (other than Taylor Swift). He knows himself and his worth, at least as a market entity. “They don’t know they gotta be faster than me to get to me, no one’s done it successfully,” he boasts, truthfully, on “Do Not Disturb.” More than anything, More Life plays like a just-in-time course correction to the excesses of VIEWS, a remarkable feat of troubleshooting that assures that October’s Very Own—whose catalog passed 10 billion Spotify streams before this release—continues to own several Octobers henceforth.

More Life is long, for sure. It is, of course, designed to be long, to swallow up all of your streaming bandwidth. Twenty-two songs all but asks you forget other rappers and musicians exist for a while. This is the new power play in an age of digital infinitude. He doesn’t offer insight in return, really—eight years into examining the wages of his success, he’s still stumbling on thoughts like, “How you run out of gas on the road to riches?” and, “Winning is problematic” as if they are actual epiphanies. But he does offer immersion. When everything is just right—the mood, the lighting, the production, the melody—that immersion feels total, and it’s hard to imagine wanting to be anywhere else. The gorgeous “Since Way Back” stretches the beat way out, the silences in between yawning wide open you momentarily lose all sense of time and momentum. It stops the album dead in the best way possible. This is the Drake moment, when you exist inside the bubble of a single drunken thought, where all priorities bend like light through a water glass and you find yourself hanging on your phone, watching the twinkling ellipsis of a responding text message like it’s the answer to all of your prayers.

#reviews-albums

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