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captainmera · 4 months

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Hellu!! In the latest chapter of tgb you spoke about hunters political power as the golden guard, and I would love to hear more about that if you would like to share !!

Sure! :)

This is super long, though. Because context of why I conclude these things are important to know!

Enjoy..!

This is just me being a history buff, though. And if you've read my webcomic In Blood we Rise, you know I like playing with the social-culture of a society.

So from the bits and pieces I've picked up from the show, either via how characters treat one another (Ex. Boscha, Amity, Willow, Gus) and the use of titles (coven heads, Emperor, "prince" - aka Golden Guard) I expand upon those clues and apply what I know of those titles, or the human equivalents of them.

The Golden Guard is, although mockingly, referred as similar to a prince title. Whatever it actually is or not is up to anyone's guess. But given that the GG is the Emperor's right-hand man, and the Emperor is a sort of religious leader/dictator.. I concluded that the GG is somewhat similar in nature.

If "Emperor" is a leader, with religious implication (as Hunter himself used the words such as "sacrilege" when invading Belos' mind) and is commonly known to know the will of the Titan (their god and nature).

Then, I think it is fair to say, that the GG most likely has similar roles but on a smaller scale.

Hunter was raised into this role, not unlike how a prince is raised to become king one day.

- If Emperor = Pope. - Then GG is = King, a military general, priesthood. - The Coven heads = Gentry (Earls, Barons, Marquesses, etc) - People like the Blights are = Gentry (Lords, Ladies, etc) - Maybe people like the Clawthornes are = Middle class? (Merchants?) - And people like the Parks or Porters are = Peasants (lower classes up to lower middle class). - And people like... *shrug* ..? ... Steve? = Peasants (Lower working class to upper working class)

This hierarchy is similar to the English one, Philip Wittebane was English. I am going on a limb here that Philip conjuncted his own application of the hierarchy he knew of onto an already existing system.

So we got the previous hierarchy system (shown and told by Boscha, mostly, and Amity in season 1). With whatever Philip could layer ontop. So it's not accurate-accurate, but a bit to the left.

We know power is important. And we know they talk about important FAMILIES. The Blight's "Dont associate" with weaker witches. Implying that some families with better magic and power have a higher status, and it is even encouraged to impose your status on those beneath you.

The teachers don't intervene when Boscha bullies Willow, they even celebrate her for her superiority. However, they do allow Willow to show her worth through POWER too.

So you can raise in social ranks by being better than others. Hence why other witches were so eager to take advantage of Gus, too. Gus is from a lower or middle class, but his illusionist powers are superior. He could easily rise to become a coven head one day. If recognised for this, others might want to hitch a ride for as long as he can carry them.

We know nothing of the Boiling Isles culture before Belos took over.

We do know a bit of traditional cultural things; like Palismen and the bed-nests. You could even say that Eda is a traditionalist in that sense, as she wants to use Wild Magic like they used to do on the isles.

We also know that The Titan's children used to be running around plentiful, that there was a subgroup of Witches that were Hunters too! (Hunter's name being Hunter has so many layers, man.. Not just Witch-Hunter-General but, like, hunters hunting Titans - the literal, kind of, devil imagery of this realm. Maybe Belos knew? Maybe he met the titan hunters? Maybe that's how he knew how to find the not-broken-mirror of the collector? What else did he know? WHO KNOWS.)

But the Titans has been dead for a very long time. But in that time in-between, we know people did exist. And where there is people, there is structure and culture. And back then, in the Deadwardian times, we know they knew they lived upon the Titan. It would not be so farfetched if they had some sort of priesthood similar to.... The greek temples?

The illusionist graveyard statues are... Coming to mind. I struggle to believe that illusionists were supposedly always considered the lowest and most useless group of magic users. It is heavely implied that Gus talents were meant for greatness. Especially in regards to the human realm.

I think, with the stone portal being as Hellenistic and temple-looking, that there might've been once-upon-a-time where witches frequented into the human realm more often. Perhaps with the use of illusion magic. Perhaps, back then, being an illusionist was a great thing to be.

But time changes things. What used to be a useful skill falls out of style. And whatever else (like Abomination slime) becomes more useful to the contemporary culture, that's what will be on the rise.

Speaking of abomination, I think it's meant to represent a sort-of industrial revolution ordeal. And that's where the Blights took a big shine in power.

... AAAANNYYWAAAAAYY~~~!

You had to read my thoughtprocess on that before I can go into your actual question.

SO..! The Golden Guard!

First, let's figure out what the heck a prince does and typical life could look like. Let's look at the real life prince of England at the time! Charles the first.

Charles was born on 29 May 1630. In August 1642 (twelve years old), the long-running dispute between Charles I and Parliament culminated in the outbreak of the First English Civil War. In October the same year (still twelve years old), Prince Charles and his younger brother James were present at the Battle of Edgehill. And spent the next two years (so fourteen years old at the end of that) based in the Royalist capital of Oxford. In January 1645 (so now fifteen), Charles was given his own Council and was made titular head of Royalist forces in the West Country. By spring 1646 (so now ca sixteen years old, like Hunter), most of the region had been occupied by Parliamentarian forces and Charles went into exile to avoid capture. Charles I surrendered into captivity in May 1646. (sixteen)

Right! So uhh... Surprisingly similar to Hunter's current situation with Wild Witches and rebellion brewing.

The thing about royals, yeah, is that they are given this birthright to lead the people "by god". Being king, queen, whatever, is a deeply Christian religious occupation.

We are talking about a time when people who were rich were just inherently deemed more morally superior. Because god let them be born into privilege. Of course, humans are humans and we are critical beings. There's a reason why the French chopped the head off their royals: People don't always agree to the status quo, no matter how religiously influential it is.

Philip Wittebane would have this bias too, though. At least somewhere in his consciousness.

Back in the days, being a "Gentleman" actually meant something. It was not just a title given by birth, it was something you had to live up to. That is why it was such a dramatic offence if a gentleman did not behave like one. When you are born into a leading position, you are expected to lead with the people in mind. Corruption, of course, happens anyway and people don't do what they're supposed to. Either because they don't want to, never asked for it, or simply take advantage of it.

Either case, a title had purpose. Just like a prince. It doesn't matter if you're twelve years old. If you're a prince you are taught, raised and told to behave a certain way to impose both courage and confidence in the people.

If you say shit like "I THINK I know what to do" nobody will trust you. You're twelve, but you're supposed to be a better breed than everyone else, after all, God appointed you into being a royal. You must be special. If you're not, then God made a mistake. If God makes mistakes.. Well, then God is flawed.

God cannot be flawed. Everything rides on the belief that God knows all, is all mighty, etc. God is absolute. You were supposed to trust God. So a twelve-year-old prince is expected to just... Pretty much be the same as a 30-year-old man, intellectually. They could speak four languages, they were already reading military tragedies, and so on.

But they're just twelve and, will, in secrecy (as we know) enjoy things that twelve year-olds enjoy. Like fairytales.

Back to the Golden Guard.

We know that Hunter has no respect from the Coven heads (parliament of sort), lol. They don't think he has the knowledge 'nor wisdom to lead. He haven't even raised the ranks in such a visible way, presumably the way they have.

Darius, whom we know nothing of, could either be like Gus and be an extremely talented abominationist regardless of his class. Or he's like the Blights; from a rich background and worked hard with the good cards life handed to him, and was expected to rise high (like Amity) and did so.

Meaning, the coven heads are peers out of respect. They aren't competition to one another, they are experts in their fields of magic. It is people trying to rise to their position that they need to put a foot onto to keep them beneath their own rank.

Supposedly, Raine outshone the previous Bard Coven head. Either the old one died, or Raine was just better.

All of this, though, means that the Coven heads resent Hunter. He's above them, but haven't "fought" through the classes like the others. He was born above them, and now rose above them. There's no reason to believe he is better. Especially without having any magic.

Hunter has a lot to prove as the Golden Guard.

The way Darius speaks of his mentor, the previous GG, we can assume that that GG had proven himself even without magic. He had respect. Darius is comparing them both.

Hunter might've been raised sheltered because the previous one might've NOT been raised sheltered and that went horribly wrong.

SO.. AGAIN....... WHAT CAN THE GG DO?

Priesthood slash general, in a royal sense!

So basically he's a pirate captain, yar harr. Or at least in the fictional sense, Captains weren't actually capable of wedding or divorcing people.

Priesthood,

because Belos is implying he's got a religious connection with the Titan. So pressumably, Hunter can do cermonious things like.. Weddings and divorce, knighting someone into Covens with a glove or in other means, spiritual guidence like taking confessions/forgiving-or-offering consolance on the behalf of the Titan.

We don't really know much about the B.I. culture before Belos, other than wild magic and the previlent use of Palismen and Titan Blood.

We also know portals were a thing, and supposedly that there are forgotten portals where Human Garbage slips in now and then.

Presumably, on my part anyhow, I think there were priests not too unsimilar to the Coven heads, but rather so they were experts in their fields (like Illusionists) but weren't hindered from using other magic too.

Perhaps the highest priest(ess), were someone who was fluent in all magics (like eda). True wild magic. The Golden Guard, being at the top of the ladder, most likely is supposedly an equevalence of this.

So, the ironic symbolism here then; is that Hunter has no magic. It is a false system.

General,

because the Golden Guard went through scout training and is the highest rank. He would be expected to know battle stragedy, history, how to fight and be leading in battle. As well as take the risk of losing his head if captured.

He would speak to others like his words are definite and absolute. Like he is above others, whatever he believes himself to be so or not.

He can't say shit like "I think we should do this" it doesn't make an army trust him with their lives. He has to be more confident than them, that he is willing to die with this move, too, with them. "This is how we win." <- no matter how insane the plan is, if he sounds confident they trust him. The same way I would trust my teacher during a fire alarm. I know where the fire exit is! I still turn to my teacher, incase they know something I dont and want me to take the window instead.

You trust authority who has gained your trust in their ability to lead you in a crisis. The Golden Guard, supposedly being the title that describes THE BEST OF THE BEST witch on the isle... You may not know how they got there, but you know they did. You may trust it, you may not. But the average citizen might.

Hunter can't show that he doesnt know what to do. He cannot surrender. Because if HE don't know what to do, they're all fucked.

He has to make decissions based on logic and stragedy alone. And sound confident about his decissions, regardless of his true feelings. He can be terrified, and stand with his head high and order the palismen around to ensure the house is secure.

His fear comes out as a general taking charge. Because that's hat he knows. The same way a K-Pop dancer 's muscle memory kicks in on certain songs, Hunter's muscle memory is to step into his GG mask and hand out orders.

Until his friends call him out and he drops the "mask" and reveals that he's just a teen like any of them, wanting to roll under a bed and hide.

Prince,

he is Belos' nephew and Belos has the title Emperor, not pope. Although the GG is a title you can rise to, Hunter's specific situation of having been born and raised in the castle gives him a bit of a royal edge.

This means, most likely, that most if not all of the citizen would assume that.. Once Belos dies of old age, the one to take "temporary" seat as emperor is the right-hand man. And, possibly, just take the seat all together as a succession.

No wonder Belos made his nephew the GG, it secured his only remaining family a good position after his soon-passing and.. Politically, it would assure that the power of the throne remains within the family. Furthering the suspicion that Hunter hasn't earned his role. it is all a game of political chess.

He's the highest rank after all, why not just take the seat and be in charge once Belos passes away from age or illness? (I believe this is why Kikimora wants to be the GG and sucks up to him even if she knows he's cruel, by the way. Belos is old, it's just a waiting game.)

He could also make supreme court decissions. Forgive a crime, decide something is a crime when presented a case, and sentence people.

We see him threathen Luz with this when he steals palismen.

He is quite entitled, and I don't really blame him for it. He's been isolated and brought up to believe it is his right to be entitled. He has also proven it to himself, through hard work, that he has earned the right to be absolute and the final word.

SO, WHAT ABOUT POLITICAL, CONVOLUTED, CONTEXTS?

It also makes him a political target.

Kikimora wants him dead, to take his place. Perhaps so she could become empress once Belos dies off.

Had the show been allowed several more seasons, I'm confident we might've had a longer arc for Hunter to change sides. Maybe even be kidnapped by Darius-or-Raine before or after Hollow Mind happens.

Raine might know Belos wants him back, Darius might want to keep Hunter hidden and away. Both cases makes Hunter a chess piece. He still represents things for the people of the B.I. for better or worse.

For Darius - People who believe in the GG might, after Belos being overthrown, want Hunter to take his place as a "kind prince". With Darius as right-hand and mentor. As, perhaps, Darius would consider that a suden change in culture and power might be too shocking and difficult to adjust for the people. Something similar, like a pinnce, might be easier than a sudden NO MORE ANYTHING AT ALL. That would lead to civil divide and maybe even war.

For Raine - Hunter could be used to exchange a prisoner (maybe Eda?) and, or, be kept until after the rebellion to serve for his own crimes. (of course, this is only before they would discover Hunter's just as much a victim as everyone else, if not more). They could also consider that Hunter knows A LOT about Belos and secrets he might've kept. Perhaps even discovering that Hunter is a grimwalker and things develop from there.

The people - Hate him or love him. No plan is really a good one of what to do with him post-war. All ideas have conflict of interest or consequences. Honestly, putting Hunter in any position post-war might just stirr up unnecesary opinions. But leaving him totally be might make people upset and discontent as well.

There is also the question of HIS CRIMES. Because yes, he did "just do his job", and that might bode less on other coven heads, but Hunter? Hunter wasn't doing just his job, it was his life. The context of him being a grimwalker and manipulated, abuse and brought up with a sole purpose.... Does put some different lights on his after-thought crimes in Belos' name.

Because AT THE TIME, they were not crimes. Harvesting the palistrom forest, imprisoning wild witches, forcing conversion into covens, sentencing people to prison or petrification is... You know. Things he was supposed to do as the GG. He also had no choice but to become the GG. He didn't chose it. Belos did.

So debate would undoubtfully come up on whatever he deserves punishment or not.

I think, to satisfy everyone. He might get a very low sentence, slap on the wrist. Forbidden to participate in politics, perhaps? Who knows.

I'M JUST PUTTING FROSTING ON THE CAKE HERE, I DON'T KNOW. I'm just a storyteller with an oh-la-la~ for drama and the clashes of people of different backgrounds and lives. I personally enjoy bringing people together in crisis from all spectrums of a society, and boil them down to what makes them human and connect with one another.

So... Take all of this with a grain of salt from someone just... Enjoys convoluted mayhem like this. Where a straight-forward answer is never quite that simple.

But there is always a way. :)

Just gotta turn on the light, and finding one another wont be as difficult as running in the dark fighting demons.

#toh #tgb ask #tgb #toh ask #the golden guard #THIS IS LONG

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my-own-walker · 1 year

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what difference does it make?

THIS GIF I JUST. BRRRRRRRR. MAKES MY PEA BRAIN GO BRRRR.

summary: ghost bf tate and y/n find comfort in each other in this fucked up world. (y/n doesn't know he's dead yet. violet doesn't exist, obv). this story is based loosely on the song 'what difference does it make?' by the smiths. felt fitting.

warnings: tate langdon x fem!reader, heavy angst, mentions of sh, murder, and harm.

+++

Tate's POV

The devil will find work for idle hands to do.

'I'm sorry I can't be who you need me to be. All I can do is be here,' I cried. Screwing my eyes shut and balling my fists, I began to sob.

I couldn't take it anymore. The women of this house. The things they required of me. I didn't want to be evil. I didn't want to do what I was doing. I was so confused. So lost.

I would be overcome by this feeling. This white-hot sensation would sear through my brain, stealing my vision and making my knees weak. The next thing I knew, I would be back where I started. Minutes, sometimes hours later. Tears in my eyes.

I stole and I lied, and why? Because you asked me to!

I would hear of the awful things I'd done through the voices around me. The other people that were trapped here would sing my praises for killing, murdering, stealing, whatever. Sometimes I would wake up from the fits in the middle of my horrible acts. Looking down and seeing pools of red and faces in agony. I didn't do this. I would think. But now I know it was me. It was all my fault.

Why me? Why do I have to ruin the lives of the people around me? I just want to be a good person. I'm only 17. A kid.

For we have been through hell and high tide / I can surely rely on you

She moved into the house. She was the only salvation I had. Her love for me proved to me that I wasn't a monster. I was more than just some pawn in this house's game. I wasn't on this Earth to simply cause harm.

I pretended to "accidentally" throw a ball through her window one day when her parents weren't home. She rushed over to the window and looked out at me, a look of shock and fright on her face. I looked up apologetically. My best puppy-dog-eyed performance.

'I'm sorry ma'am!' I quipped. My hand was resting above my eyes to shield the sun.

'Ma'am...?' she scoffed. 'Do I really look that old?' She rolled her eyes.

'Uh- no? You're just- I- I'm sorry. I'm Tate,' I replied looking down at my shoes. Bashful. Nice.

'Y/N.' she replied, crossing her arms sarcastically. 'You fucking broke my window.'

'I know...I-'

'This is a new house, my parents will kill me.'

'Oh my god, I had no idea,' I played dumb.

'Do you want your ball back at least?' she smirked, holding the perpetrator up demonstratively.

'Yes, please,' I said, thinking I blew it. That was the wrong 'in' I guessed. The wrong way to get her to love me.

'Then you'll have to come get it,' she smirked and walked away from the window.

Well, I'm still fond of you

From then on I was a regular fixture in her room. I helped her dad fix the window, just to show how nice of a guy I am.

She lived with her dad and stepmom. Her mother had died just a little less than a year ago, and the fat bastard was already remarried. Sick freak. I needed to protect her from him.

It was a car accident that took her. She tried merging off of the highway at the same time as another driver was trying to merge onto the highway. She side-swiped them and her car flipped. The driver's side was crushed.

'I could have been in the car with her that day,' Y/N later explained. 'She asked me to go get groceries with her and I said no, and then she died.'

My heart breaks for her, it really does.

She hurts herself, too. I watched her do it one time. She didn't know I was here. I cried as I watched her etch lines into her thighs, one at a time. She didn't wince, or cry. She just sat there, expressionless.

I tried to protect her from the people of the house. Its victims. She didn't deserve to be scared or feel the pain that they did. I kept them away from her.

Oh, my sacred one

It was three days after Y/N found her dad cheating on her stepmom. She was distant. I didn't feel like she'd want to see me. She made no attempts to contact me.

I was a sitting duck, unable to help her. In the days prior I watched her. Alone. Rotting in her room. Skipping school. Hurting herself. It was too much to bear.

On this particular day, though, I decided she needed me. As much as she was pushing me away she still needed me. And I needed her.

She didn't understand.

My conversation with Nora hadn't gone well. She was asking too much of me. Too much. And shortly after the feeling came again. I had another fit. I was overcome and powerless. The white-hot pain lit my brain on fire. And then I was standing alone in the basement again with blood on my hands. I began to sob. I needed Y/N.

I worshipped her. The softness of her cheeks. The way her hair cascaded and framed her face. The way she would cover her mouth when she smiled because she hated how it looked. The things she would wear. Her knit sweaters and black lace-up boots.

Everything she did was pure magic to me.

Her sense of humor. Her compassion. The way she feels things. So deeply. She feels with every ounce of her being. I wish I felt that, rather than utter fucking apathy all the time.

I gathered my courage and found myself in her room. She was asleep.

I made my way over to her bedside slowly, taking care not to wake her. I lowered myself onto the seat next to her and watched as the hair that covered her face moved with each breath she took. Her still form filled my stomach with butterflies and made my chest feel funny. She was so peaceful. For once, I didn't see pain on her face.

Tears sprang to my eyes yet again. How could a person be so perfect?

She must've sensed it because she stirred. Turning onto her back and stretching her arms out. Her eyes fluttered open, aimed at the ceiling. I could see it better, then. Her eyes. They were puffy and red. She'd been crying.

She turned her head slowly as she stretched again, inadvertently making herself face me. Her eyes widened, but she didn't jump. It was almost like she couldn't believe I was there.

'Tate?' she croaked.

'Hey, beautiful,' I replied, relieved that she wasn't immediately angry with my being there.

She cracked a small smile.

'I was worried about you so I came over. I hope I'm not bothering you...' I continued.

'No- no Tate not at all,' Y/N stammered, propping herself up slightly. 'I actually hoped you'd come. I didn't realize that after all this time I just...never got your number. I've been needing you but had no way to contact you. You've always just been...here, I don't know. I never thought to ask.' She laughed, sadly.

Shit. I thought. I need to figure that out somehow. Or come clean. Fuck.

'It's okay now, though. You're here. I haven't been able to cope at all,' she trailed off, looking out the window behind her headboard. 'What time is it even? I've been sleeping so much...'

'It doesn't matter,' I said, 'if you need rest, you should rest.'

'I'm so tired...'

'Me too, Y/N...me too,' I sighed. I didn't even realize I had started crying until Y/N shot up in her bed and crawled over to the edge to take my face in her hands. She wiped the tears from under my eyes with the pads of her thumbs. Then, she kissed my cheeks, kissing the rest of the tears away.

'Rough day, huh?' she asked.

'It's a goddamn filthy, fucked up world we live in, Y/N,' I managed. 'I've missed you.'

She motioned with her head for me to join her on the bed. She even turned up the covers slightly so I could crawl under, but I didn't. That would take too much time. I needed to be in her embrace immediately.

I laid on my side as she wrapped her arms around my chest. She laid her head atop mine softly and sighed.

'I'm so tired,' I uttered.

She simply stroked my hair.

'I love you, Tate,' she muttered after a while. Electricity shot through my body. I was for one, all-encompassing moment, alive again. She loved me. And I loved her.

Oh, I'm too tired / I'm so sick and tired / And I'm feeling very sick and ill today

+++

Okay, that's all, I guess. My brain won't allow me to write more for some reason. Let me know what you'd like more of and I'll do it. This has been fun so far.

#tate langdon #tate langdon imagine #tate langdon x reader #evan peters x female reader #ahs murder house #ahs fanfic #ahs fandom

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euph0synee · 1 year

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UNCEASING

yandere!devil Yeonjun × reader

It all started with just because of one small accident. just because of that accident i got into a cycle of misery which left me broken to the core.

It was a beautiful summer day and i was going to my job as usual. something about that day didn't feel very great. even though the weather was great, there were people laughing and enjoying their lives around, children playing happily. still it felt something was about to happen.

i was waiting for the traffic lights to turn red so i could cross the road but suddenly a puppy that was caught between the cars in the middle of the road caught my eyes. seeing a big truck coming towards him i couldn't help but run to save the puppy. i saved it but in the process i had hurt my knees.

the owner of the puppy thanked me for saving her puppy and took me to hospital for the treatment of my knees even though i told her it was not needed she still insisted. giving in to her i went to the hospital with her.

i had to stay at the hospital for a day to rest as well as the doctor told me he would run several tests.

i was laying on my hospital bed with my back on the head of the bed as i read a book. in the bed next to mine was a very old lady who kept making conversations with me. she was very sweet as she shared her fruits with me and also told me stuff about her life. her son and daughter in law and how much she misses them and want to meet them as soon as possible. i hoped she'd get to meet them soon.

it was now midnight and the lights were turned off for all the patients to sleep. i was not able to sleep as i was really scared of staying at hospitals over night because of all those hospital haunted stories i heard.

there was silence in the whole hospital. no noise could be heard. it was scary however, suddenly i heard footsteps. footsteps coming closer to the room i was in. the door to our room opened as the footsteps got closer and closer. it stopped at the bed next to mine. i was very scared. too scared to even peek at who it was.

“hmm your time is over now“, i suddenly heard them speak. the sudden voice startled me so much that i flinched hitting my head on the headboard.

there was silence again. i could hear my heart beats. even my breath felt as if it was too loud. suddenly the footsteps were heard again and this time they stopped near my bed.

the person snatched the blanket i had over my self as i screamed a little. the person just stood there and looked at me. i gasped for air as i slowly faced him.

to say i was shocked would be an understatement. i was flabbergasted. i had never seen someone so good looking as him. he had black hair and dark eyes but such a pale skin that even in the darkness his skin was glowing. his sharp yet soft features made him look as if he just came down from heaven. he looked like a God but somehow he had this really intense frightening aura around him. a very strong aura that sent chills down my spine.

“you can see me? hear me?“, he asked me.

i nodded my head slowly as he did not reply but rather went back to the bed next to mine and did god knows what but next thing i knew was the sweet old lady was dying, no she was already dead. i was shocked.

i got off the bed running to her as i pushed him away to stop him from continuing to do whatever he was doing.

“what the hell are you doing? who are you?“, i asked him as he just stood there looking at me.

i looked back at the old lady's body as i shook her trying to wake her up even though i knew it was not possible anymore. i still had a hope.

“she's already dead“, he said as he turned around and started walking towards the exit.

i ran towards him and grabbed his hands. i wanted to know who he was. he had just murdered someone in front of me. i couldn't just let him go like this and get away with this.

oh how i wish i hadn't done that and had just let him go.

he looked down at me with serious eyes and i gave the same look back. i wasn't gonna back down. suddenly he smirked which sent shivers down my spine.

“do you like me?“, he suddenly asked.

“w-what?“, i was confused. why did he suddenly asked me that? what happened?

i tried to let go of him but suddenly he grabbed me by my waist.

“you thought about how handsome i was when you saw me and now you're grabbing me. you must like me very much“, he said as he smiled. his smile did not had any good intentions. his smile was sinister. the kind of smile which can make anyone shiver.

“you're really brave for standing up to me. i wonder how this arrogant face will look dying in pain as a deep slumber takes over you. waah !! i am getting goosebumps just thinking about it“, he said as his fingers caressed my face.

“what the hell are you talking about ?! let me go“, i said as i tried to push him away strongly but he was way strong than me. suddenly we were out on the roof of the hospital building.

i was too shocked and busy in analysing my surroundings that i didn't notice we were standing at the edge until he pushed me down.

i fell down and the the image i saw falling was him smiling down as he looked at me falling. my body hit the ground hard as my blood splattered all over. an intense pain hit my body as i realized i had probably broken each and every bone in my body. the pain was unbearable. so unbearable that i was eagerly waiting to die so the pain could end.

suddenly from the crowd the same man who pushed me down came out as he looked down as me and caressed my cheeks again.

“i at least expected more than this from you especially but that's fine we can do it again until you show me the best view“, the maniac said as he chuckled. my body burned with pain but also with anger that i felt towards him.

suddenly my eyes opened again and i was back to the time when i came to the hospital. i looked around me to see the old lady still alive and happy as ever. everything was just normal just how it was supposed to be. i thought maybe it was all a dream but the pain that i felt was too real to be just a dream.

not feeling good about staying in the hospital i begged the doctor to discharge me who finally agreed and i got ready to go out of the hospital. i said bye to the old lady and other patients as i walked out of the room.

i walked out of the hospital as i kept thinking about the incidents that happened and if it was all just a dream when suddenly someone fell from above. it was the old lady. she fell from above in front of me. her blood splattered all around as a few drops also got on my clothes. my blood ran cold.

i slowly looked up to see the man from before standing and looking down at me with a smirk. it was exactly the same expression that he gave me before. i was frozen on my spot. i knew for sure now that any of the things that happened were not a dream at all.

i was just there standing frozen and looking at the body of the old lady when suddenly the scenery changed and now i stood in the middle of the road. the traffic light was red so i tried to move and run away as it was soon going to be the green light but i couldn't move. my feet wouldn't move an inch. soon the lights turned green and loads of cars and trucks came towards me altogether.

i was sent away flying because of the force of the truck that hit me. i lied on the hard ground again feeling each bone in my body being broken. again the intense pain slowly rising in my body. it was unbearable. i was dying, again.

the man walked towards me again as he sat down next to my dying body as he once again smiled looking down at me.

“i knew it. i knew you would give me the best views. aah~now that i have seen it i wanna see it again“, he said.

i no longer felt anger towards him. all i felt now was fear. very much fear. he looked so scary even more now that i knew he had my life in his hands and he was playing with it like a toy.

“p-please let m-me go“, i managed to choke out a sentence to the response of which, he just looked at me dead serious without uttering a single word.

suddenly i opened my eyes once again to see i was back in the same time as before. the sweet old lady still looking happy as ever as she told her stories to everyone in the room. everything again went back to the way it was but it was not normal. i knew it. it was not normal. i was going to die painfully again.

i got out of my bed and without any thought just ran. ran out side of the hospital. i ran until i was far, far away from the hospital.

i finally stopped in front of my apartment. i sighed in relief as i walked inside my apartment complex and because i was too scared to take the elevator i took the stairs.

i finally reached my home. i was ecstatic. maybe this time the events would change. i unlocked my door and opened it only to face to face with a man with a gun pointed to my head, ready to shoot. i froze. my legs started losing it's balance at how close the gun was to my forehead.

the man shot me in my head. the bullet went straight into my brain. i did not even had time to feel the pain or to react. in front of me the man's face slowly turned into the face of the man who played with my life like a toy.

once again, i opened my eyes. this time i was not where i would wake up every time after dying, the patient's room. rather this time i was in a morgue. around me were dead bodies of so many people. i was scared. i was really scared. i was losing my mind. this was my worst fear. i looked beside me and saw the same sweet old lady's body next to mine.

i broke down. i didn't know why this was happening. was this because i saw that man killing her? or was it because i interfered. i regretted interfering. i regretted not closing my eyes and pretending that i never saw anything that night.

suddenly the dead bodies started getting up one by one. they started coming towards me. i couldn't move. i was desperate. i wanted to run. i was so scared. i would rather choose to die thousand painful deaths than go through something like this.

the dead bodies started making a sound which was very scary, eerie and unpleasant to hear. the fear, the scare was real. very real. suddenly, they all stopped. the sound stopped. silence took over again. in that silence i heard the same footsteps that i heard that night.

the man slowly walked inside the morgue as he made his way to me. he came and stood above me. looking down at me with the same smile but this time it was even more sinister and a smile of satisfaction.

he slowly ran his hands through my hair.

“there there, if i had known just this much scare can give me your best expressions then i wouldn't have killed you several times“, he said as he chuckled. he moved his face closer to mine and kissed me. he kissed me as if his life depended on it. he did not stop kissing me even when i tried pushing him off because of the lack of air. my vision started getting blurry and i stopped resisting as my consciousness was leaving me. finally he let go of my lips as i fainted.

“hmm~what shall i do? i'm still not done playing with you. let's take you with me. afterall we have an eternity to play with each other“, the man said picking up the body of the now fainted girl and disappearing.

//WOW I HAD AN IDEA AND I WROTE THIS WITH THAT. UGH I HOPE Y'ALL LIKE IT. AND TELL ME IF YOU WANT A PART 2 LOLL

#yeonjun #yandere yeonjun #kpop yandere #yandere kpop #yandere txt #yandere taehyun #yandere soobin #yandere huening kai #yandere beomgyu #yandere

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raised-u-fr0m-perdition · 3 months

Text

we could be more | dean winchester | 10

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

CROATOAN

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : WHATEVER IT TAKES - IMAGINE DRAGONS

“What did you do?” Dean frowned once we were out of Dad’s earshot. “When you said that you’d destroy the box, you buried it, didn’t you? You made a deal.”

“I did.” I shrugged coldly.

“Why?” Sam asked, looking confused. “Now you have ten years to live.”

“I don’t.” I contradicted. “The demon only asked for my necklace.”

“What?” Dean blinked in surprise. “Just that?”

“Just that.”

“Why?”

“It said I have too much of a burden already, so it’s enough torture.”

“There’s gonna be some underlying motive, I just know it.” Sam gritted his teeth. “You shouldn’t have done it.”

“I had to!”

“Why?!”

“Because I’m lost!” I burst out. “I’m looking through every single book of mine, but I can’t find anything to do with setting my powers free. My dad can help. He taught me everything I know and he could know something-“

“What’s he gonna do when he finds out that your brother, sister and mother died because of a dreamwalker?” Dean fumed. “You’ve messed up big time.”

“I’m a mess up.” I wept, sitting down. “I can’t- I can’t do this without him, I just can’t. I raise my gun and I shoot, sure, but I think a thousand times before doing it because of Carter and Xavier, and the one person I’d always trust to help me is my dad, but when I look, he’s not there and it kills me. I-“ The two hugged me, letting go of their anger.

“It’s ok.” Dean murmured.

“Jellybean.” Dad was leaning on my doorframe, looking stern. “Did you make a deal with a crossroads demon?”

“Yeah.” I whispered, nodding. “I had to. The devil took my abilities away. People have died because I wasn’t quick enough to act, or I’m me. Mom’s dead, Dad. So is Lily, and Carter, and it was all my fault-“

“I know about it.” He assured. “It pained me, but I watched it happen. You were so brave, and it wasn’t your fault, it was mine.”

“It was my fault.”

“It wasn’t. Honestly? It was mine, because what I did led that dreamwalker to you and caused you so much pain.” He smoothed back my hair with a sad smile. “Look at you now. You’re so strong, so beautiful. You’re everything I knew you would be, even if things didn’t go as planned.” He leaned his forehead on mine, then kissed it. “I’ll protect you too from now on, even if those two boys are doing a good job of it. They’re John Winchester’s boys, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Good kids. I’ve already interrogated them about how well they’re treating you.”

“Dad.”

“You know I had to.” He excused. “I’ve got to know who these boys are if they’re spending time with my baby girl. Especially that Dean kid.”

“Dad!”

“There’s something there, I know it.”

“No, you don’t.” I giggled. “Dad, these guys have kept me safe.”

”More like you keep them safe. My jellybean doesn’t need protecting.”

“Yes, she does.” I heard whimpering from the other room, and I frowned. “Excuse me, Dad, just gotta go check something.” I went to the other room, where Sam was asleep. “Sam?” Sam’s face was scrunched up, sweat rolling down his face as he breathed heavily. I sat down beside him, taking the blanket off him carefully. “Hey, Sammy.”

“Sam?” Dean was at the door, but then Sam sat up, and I immediately steadied him.

“No…” He stared at Dean, panting, with wide eyes.

“There are only two towns in the US named Rivergrove.” Sam frowned, looking at the GPS. I had my earphones in, listening to music as we went.

“How are you so sure that it’s the one in Oregon?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow.

“There was a picture. Crater Lake.”

“What else?”

“I saw a dark room, some people, and a guy tied to a chair.”

“And I ventilated him?”

“Yeah. You thought there was something inside him.”

“Like a demon? Was he possessed?”

“If he was possessed, we’d have exorcised him first.” I reasoned, taking out my earbuds.

“Yeah, cause I’m not gonna waste an innocent man.”

“But you plugged him, without reason.” Sam shrugged.

“Well, I'm sure I had a good reason.”

“I hope you did.”

“What’s that supposed to mean-“

“Can we have one car ride without you two trying to rip each other’s heads off?” I groaned. “It gets tiring to watch sometimes, y’know.”

“Ok, Beanie, for you.” Dean smiled, glancing back at me. I got a call from Dad, which I picked up.

“Hey, Dad.” I sighed, shooting a look to both boys to stay silent.

‘Hey, sweetheart. Are you at Oregon yet?’

“Nope, still got a while left.”

‘That’s the voice you make when you’ve witnessed an argument.’

“That’s cause I have, but it’s under control. What d‘you call me for?”

‘I packed food in the glove box. Just so you all can feel ready to fight whatever’s out there.’

“Thanks, Dad.” I grinned, laughing. “I’ll make sure to eat it.”

‘You better, jellybean. And tell the boys to keep you safe. Otherwise they won’t be for long.’

“I think they got the message when you almost did target practice on them.”

‘Fair enough. Bye.’

“Bye.” I cut the call, turning to the boys. “Dad packed food in the glovebox.”

“Your dad is the BEST!” Dean exclaimed, immediately reaching for the glovebox. Sam rolled his eyes, chuckling.

We pulled up at Rivergrove, meeting someone who was at the border. We got out, approaching him.

“Morning.” Dean smiled.

“Good morning. Can I help you?” The man asked, and I spotted a tattoo. Master Sergeant.

“Uh, Billy Gibbons, Frank Beard, and in the back is Lily Carter. U.S. Marshals.” He flashed his badge.

“What's this about?”

“We're looking for someone.”

“A young man, early twenties.” Sam described. He'd have a, a thin scar right below his hairline.”

“What’d he do?”

“Well, nothing.” I replied casually. “We’re just trying to find someone else, and this guy could help us.”

“Yeah, he's not in any kind of trouble or anything; well, not yet.” Dean smirked. “I think maybe you know who he is . . . Master Sergeant. My dad was in the Corps, he was a Corporal.”

“What company?” The man asked cautiously.

“Echo-2-1.”

“So can you help us?” I asked politely.

“Duane Tanner's got a scar like that. But I know him. Good kid, keeps his nose clean.”

“Oh, I’m sure he does.” Dean replied. “You know where he lives?”

“With his family, up Aspen Way.”

“Thank you, sir.” I nodded, and we walked off. Sam nodded towards a pole, which had ‘Croatoan’ etched on it.

“Croatoan?” Dean blinked.

“Roanoke?” I raised an eyebrow. “Lost colony? Ring a bell? Dean, did you pay any attention in history class?”

“Yeah, Miss Princeton. Shots heard 'round the world, How bills become laws…”

“That's not school,” Sam grimaced, “that's Schoolhouse Rock.”

“Whatever.”

“Roanoke was one of the first English colonies in America, late 1500s.” I explained.

“Oh yeah, yeah, I do remember that. The only thing they left behind was a single word carved in a tree. Croatoan.”

“Yeah. And I mean, there were theories — Indian raid, disease, but nobody knows what really happened.” Sam frowned. “They were all just gone. I mean, wiped out overnight.”

“You don't think that's what's going on here, I mean…”

“Whatever I saw in my head, it sure wasn't good. But what do you think could do that?”

“Well, I mean, like I said, all of your weirdo visions are always tied to the Yellow-Eyed Demon somehow, so…”

“We should get help.” I sighed. “I’m calling Dad.” I pulled out my phone, but it had no signal. “I haven’t got signal.”

Dean and Sam looked at their phones too. “Me neither.” We went over to a telephone booth, but I got the ‘line unavailable’ tone.

“Line’s dead.” I grimaced. “If I was trying to massacre a town, this is exactly where I’d start. No way of getting help, so it becomes a death trap.”

We parked on Aspen Way, walking up to the house and knocking. A boy with spike hair answered, peeking around the door.

“Yeah?” He frowned.

“We're looking for Duane Tanner; he lives here, right?” Dean asked.

“He’s my brother.”

“Can we talk to him?”

“He’s not here right now.”

”Do you know where he is?” I continued with a an air that said ‘tell me where he is right now or I slap you’.

“Yeah, he went on a fishing trip up by Roslyn Lake.”

“Your parents home?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, they’re inside.”

“Jake? Who is it?” Mr Tanner came into the hallway.

“US marshals, sir.” Dean lied. “We’re looking for your son, Duane.”

“Wh-why? He's not in trouble, is he?“

“No, no, no, no. We just need to ask him a couple of routine questions, that's all.”

“When’s he due back from his trip?” Sam asked.

“We’re not sure-“

“Maybe your wife knows.” I smiled.

“She’s not here.”

“Your son said she was.”

“She’s out getting groceries. So, when Duane gets back, there's a number where he can get a hold of you?“

“Oh, we’ll just check in later.” We walked down the steps as Mr Tanner shut the door. “I call bull.” I shrugged, “Too Stepford for me.”

“Way too creepy.” Sam shivered. I pulled out my gun, all of us creeping round to the back of the house. We found a window, but it was only a bit open.

“I can’t fit in that gap.” Dean whispered.

“Yeah, well, neither can I.”

“Watch me.” I smirked, climbing up and slipping through the gap, opening the window wider for them to climb in. I looked through a crack in the door; there was an adult woman tied to a chair, another adult woman, possibly aunt, holding a machete, the spiky-haired brother and Mr Tanner. When we saw blood being smeared onto her cut, we busted through the door. The aunt and the dad ran towards us, but Dean and I pulled the trigger. But Dean shot three times, while I only did one. The two collapsed on the floor, dead, while Jake Tanner burst out of the window and ran, while Sam hesitates to shoot. We untied a crying Beverly, checking her.

I walked into the clinic, Beverly and Sam behind us.

“The phone lines are down, Miss Lee, I think this is a cause to worry.”

“I’ll only worry when I see it.” I vaguely recognised that voice.

Vaguely.

“Hello? Hello? We need a doctor here!” Sam yelled, and a young blonde woman rushed out. She wore a really girly headband plus a pink shirt.

“Mrs. Tanner, what happened?” She gasped.

“She was attacked.” I explained briefly.

“Dr Lee!” Another young blonde woman rushed out.

“Get her inside.” Dr Lee ordered, and we brought Beverly in. Dean rushed in, holding Mr Tanner and Miss Tanner wrapped in canvas. “Is that-“

“The Tanner siblings?” I finished candidly. “Yes.”

“Were they attacked too?”

“Uh… no.” Dean refused. “They did the attacking and then got themselves shot.”

“Shot?”

“Yeah.”

“Why are you?”

“US Marshals. I’d show you my badge, but…” I pulled out my own, flashing it before storing it.

“Oh, sorry. Take them inside. We also have a federal agent here, you know.” Sam, Dean and I exchanged a look. A man of about 6’3 walked in, making direct eye contact with me. He had black hair and green eyes, and I masked my surprise with professionalism.

James Rhodes, you son of a gun.

“Hey. I’m Harry Johnson, FBI agent.” He introduced, shaking my hand.

“Lily Carter, US marshal.” I replied, while Dean and Sam smirked at each other. “Nice to meet you, agent.”

“You too, marshal.”

“Can I have a word?”

“Sure.” We went into another room, and I looked him up and down.

“Way to follow me, Serge. Why are you here?”

“I’m taking a page out of your book, Lily Carter.” He raised an eyebrow, holding up his fake Fed badge. “Fake ID.”

“Never thought you had it in you.”

“Meeting you changed me, Rainer.” He smirked. “But… there’s something going on. I’ve never seen this many people go AWOL. I just had to check it out-“ He was cut off due to me yanking him forward by his collar, kissing him. His hand tangled in my hair, the other slipping under my band t-shirt.

”James…” My back hit the wall, both of us missing a beat for one second, but we made up for it in the matter of a few seconds.

“Goddamn, Ivy-“ I reached my fingers up, disconnecting and leaning my forehead on his while he took heavy breaths to undo his shirt buttons as quickly as I could, impatiently taking his suit jacket off his shoulders-

“Oh, wow.” Sam stood there, glancing between the two of us.

‘Don’t breathe a word of this to Dean.” I hissed.

“Yeah, sure.” Sam left, and I leaned my head back.

“Wrong place, wrong time.” I chuckled, then took a look at him. “But… damn.”

“I guess another time, then.” He sighed, buttoning up his shirt. “It’s been hard, not talking to you, cause you rarely pick up your burner.”

“I’ve been on missions, James.”

“I know, I know, but you’re still addictive.”

“Cause I’m a law-breaking citizen. You’re a good, smart and brave cop. Who’s meant to arrest people like me.” I started doing his tie, looking up at him with a smile.

“I think that’s it.” He shrugged. “You go against what I’m supposed to stand for, but I can’t stay away from you.”

“Don’t try.” I winked. “Maybe it’s fate.” I walked out of the door, into Dr Lee’s clinic room with him behind me. Sam snickered when he saw us come in.

“Wait, you said Jake helped him? Your son Jake?” Lee frowned.

“They beat me. Tied me up.” Beverly whispered.

“I don’t believe it.” Pam refused.

“Pam.” Lee warned, then turned to Beverly. “Beverly… do you have any idea why they would act this way? Any history of chemical dependency?”

”No, of course not. I don't know why. One minute they were my husband and my son. And the next, they had the devil in them.”

Sam, Dean, James and I exchanged looks, so we went outside to discuss. “Those guys were whacked out of their gourds.” Dean frowned.

“What is it, then?” Sam shrugged. “Multiple demons? Mass possession?”

“I have an unlikely idea.” I sighed. “Demonic plague. This many demons can’t just inhabit one town unnoticed by any hunters.”

“Demonic plagues are really uncommon in most lore, though.” James contradicted, getting looks from Sam and Dean. “What? I did my homework.”

“I’m proud of you, Rhodey.” Dean nodded proudly. “Beanie, you really know how to pick ‘em.”

“Shut up.” I chuckled, waving Dean off. “We didn't see any of the demon smoke with Mr Tanner, or any of the other usual signs.”

“Well, whatever. Something turned him into a monster. And you know if Sam would’ve taken out the other one, there'd be one less to worry about.”

“I’m sorry, ok?!” Sam groaned. “I hesitated! He was a kid.”

“It was an ‘it’. Not the best time for a bleeding heart.”

“That’s not our biggest concern.” I frowned. “It’s what’s affecting these people. I’m gonna look in my creature encyclopaedia, try and see if there’s anything matching that description.”

Dr Lee stormed out, meeting us.

“How's the patient?” Sam asked.

“Terrible!” She snapped. “What the hell happened out there?”

“We don’t know.” Dean recoiled.

“Yeah? Well, you just killed my next door neighbour.”

“We didn't have a choice.”

“Maybe so, but we need the county sheriff. We need the coroner…”

“Phones are down.”

“I know, I tried. Tell me you have a police radio in that car?”

“We do.” I nodded. “But it tapped out, like everything else.”

“I don’t understand what’s happening.” It’s best you don’t, lady.

“How far is it to the next town?” Dean asked.

“It's about forty miles down to Sidewinder.”

“I’m gonna head down there, see if we can get some help.” Dean clapped Sam and I on the shoulder. “My partners will keep you guys safe.”

“Safe from what?” She frowned.

“We’ll get back to you on that.”

“Huh.” Dr Lee mused while she was analysing Mr Tanner’s blood.

“What?” Sam asked, stopping his pacing. James stood up, all of us walking over.

“His lymphocyte percentage is pretty high. His body was fighting off a viral infection.” She explained.

“Really? What kind of virus?”

“Can’t say for sure.”

“Do you think an infection could have made him act like that?”

“None that I've ever heard of. I mean, some can cause dementia, but not that kind of violence. And besides, I've never heard of one that did this to the blood.”

“Did what?” I persisted.

“There's this… weird residue. If I didn't know better I'd say it was sulfur.”

“Sulfur.” I repeated, staring pointedly at Sam.

“I don't understand. Are you saying my husband and Jake had a disease?” Beverly whispered, huddled on a stool.

“That's what we're trying to find out.” Dr Lee frowned. “Now, during the attack, do you remember… did you have any direct contact with their blood?”

“Oh my God. You don't think I've got this virus, do you?”

“Beverly, I don't know what to think. But with your permission, we'll take a blood sample.” Beverly nodded tenderly, laying her hand on Dr Lee’s. Then she lashed out, grabbing Lee’s wrist and yelling. Sam and James advanced, but she tossed them against a glass cabinet. She picked up a scalpel, but I hefted a fire extinguisher and slammed it on Beverly’s head, knocking her out.

“Y’know, sometimes I hate my job.” I panted. “Now, if you excuse me, I need to wipe blood off this fire extinguisher.”

“What if we all have it? What if we all go crazy?” Pam whimpered, huddled at the far wall.

“You've got to stay calm.” Dr Lee replied calmly. “All we can do is wait. The Marshal's bringing help.”

“I can't, I... I've got to go.”

“Pam!”

“No, you don't understand. My boyfriend's out there, I gotta make sure he's okay.” She hurried out of the lab, and Sam followed after her. I went back to Dr Lee, smiling.

“I think that if we manage to get overthrown by an insane infection, I’d like to know the name of the other sane woman here.” I grinned.

“Olivia.”

“Ivy.” We shook hands. “So, has the sulfur gone?”

”No, it’s still there, surprisingly. I don’t know how sulfur makes people act so murderous.”

“I’m still figuring that part out, trust me.” I walked out to find Dean and the man we talked to earlier. “What’s the stats?”

“People are being infected through blood-to-blood contact.” Dean explained. “Demonic germ warfare.”

”I told you. Demonic plague.” I frowned. “It’s rare, but it happens, just like in Roanoke.”

“Now we get it.” Sam grumped. “Any way to cure it?”

“You can only contain it.” I sighed. “The cures possible are impossible.”

“I've been poring through Dad's journal, found something about the Roanoke colony.”

“What d’you find?”

“Dad always had a theory about Croatoan. He thought it was a demon's name. Sometimes known as Deva or sometimes Resheph. A demon of plague and pestilence.”

“And he’s here why?” Dean groaned.

”I have no idea. But Dean, who knows how far this thing can spread? We gotta get out of here, we gotta warn people.”

“They’ve got one!” The dude from earlier, who I’d found out was Mark from his badge, yelled. We rushed into the other room.

“The wife. She’s infected.”

“We've gotta take care of this. We can't just leave her in there.” Mark pointed with a shaky finger. “My neighbors, they were strong. The longer we wait, the stronger she'll get.” Dean didn’t even hesitate, pulling out his gun.

“You're gonna kill Beverly Tanner?” Pam gasped.

“Doctor, could there be any treatment?” Sam asked urgently. “Some kind of cure for this?”

“For God’s sake, I don’t even know what ‘it’ is!” Olivia cried out.

“I told you, it's just a matter of time before she breaks through.” Mark grimaced, gun at the ready. They opened the door, facing Beverly, who jumped up, playing victim.

“Mark, what are you doing? Mark, it's, it's them! They locked me in here, they, they tried to kill me!” She begged, faking tears. “They're infected, not me! Please, Mark! You've known me all your life! Please!”

“You sure she’s one of ‘em?” Mark asked us. I nodded, and so did Sam, so Dean stepped forward and shot twice, his face steely. James walked in, looking at the scene with wide eyes.

“There are people crowding the door.” He informed, then gulped. I gave him a reassuring look, running my hand through my hair. Pam started freaking out, especially when she dropped a vial of blood on herself. However, she was deemed clean.

“Why are we staying here? Please, let's just go!” She cried.

“No, we can't, because those things are everywhere.” Dean refused.

“She's right about one thing. We can't stay here. We've gotta get out of here, get to the Roadhouse? Somewhere. Let people know what's coming.” Sam murmured.

“Well, I'm not sure we've got a choice. Lots of folks up here are good with rifles — even with all your hardware we're, we're easy targets.” Mark reasoned. “So unless you've got some explosives…”

James looked between us. “We could make some.”

“Yeah, there’s stuff like potassium chloride, benzoyl peroxide, ammonium nitrate, or we can go full on molotov.” I shrugged.

“You know a scary amount of stuff about explosives.” Dean chuckled nervously.

“I’ve learnt a lot about ‘em.”

We heard banging on the door. “Hey! Let me in, let me in! Please!”

“It’s Duane Tanner.” Mark went to the door, letting Duane in.

”Thank God.” Duane breathed a sigh of relief, limping in.

“Duane, you okay?” Mark asked, and Duane nodded.

“Who else is in here?”

“FBI, Harry Johnson.” James flashed his badge.

”We’re US marshals.” I smiled, gesturing to the three of me, Dean and Sam.

“Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, easy there, chief.” Dean took Duane by the arm when he raced in. “Hey Doc! Give Duane a good once-over, would you?” We went into the lab.

“Duane. Where you been?” Mark questioned.

“On a fishing trip up by Roslyn. I came back this afternoon. I . . . I saw Roger McGill being dragged out of his house by people we know!” Duane stammered. “They started cutting him with knives! I ran, I've been hiding in the woods ever since. Has anybody seen my mom and dad?”

“You’re bleeding.” Olivia remarked. There was a huge cut in Duane’s leg, and I instantly put my hand on my gun, taking it out.

“Where did you get that?” Dean frowned, staring at the gash in Duane’s leg.

”I was running, I must have tripped.” Duane explained feebly.

“Tie him up. Rope’s in there.”

“Wait-“

”Sit down!” Dean ordered, pulling out his gun.

”Dean!” I snapped, but Mark was already preparing to tie Duane.

“I'm sorry, Duane, he's right.” He grimaced. “We've gotta be careful.”

“Careful about what?” Duane panted.

“Did they bleed on you?” I asked.

“No, what the hell? No!”

”Doc, any way to know for sure, at least?” Sam pleaded.

“I've studied Beverly's bloodwork backwards and forwards.” Olivia frowned.

“My mom!” Duane cried.

“It took three hours for the virus to incubate. The sulfur didn't appear in the blood until then, so . . . no, there'd be no way of knowing. Not until after Duane turns.”

”Dean, Ivy, we have to talk.” Sam sighed. We went to a different room. “This is my vision, Dean. It's happening.”

”Yeah, I figured.” Dean nodded coldly.

”You can't kill him, all right? Not yet. We don't know if he's infected or not.”

“Well, I think we're pretty damn sure. Guy shows up out of nowhere, he's got a cut on his leg, his whole family's infected?”

“Let’s just keep him tied. He can’t keep this act up forever, if he’s affected.” I suggested calmly.

“What? Just wait or him to Hulk out and infect somebody else? No thanks, can't take that chance.” Dean started to push past Sam, who stopped him. ”Hey look, man, I'm not happy about this, okay? But it's a tough job and you know that.”

”It's supposed to be tough, Dean. We're supposed to struggle with this, that's the whole point.” Sam argued, his hand still holding Dean back.

“And what does that buy us?”

“A clear conscience, at least!”

”Well, it's too late for that.”

“What’s happened to you?!” I burst out.

”What?” Dean blinked.

“You might kill an innocent man, and you don't even care! You don't act like yourself anymore, Dean. Hell, you know what? You're acting like one of those things out there.”

“Mhmm.” Dean pushed past Sam, who tried to stop him a third time, but Dean threw him against the wall.

“DEAN!” Dean walked into the other room, locking the door behind him. Sam ran up, trying to unlock the door, trying the handle and banging on the door.

“Open the damn door, Dean!” Sam yelled. “Don't do it, Dean! Don't!”

“It’s too late.” I sighed, punching the door angrily. “Damn it! I’m sorry, Sammy.”

“You tried, at least.”

“I didn’t try hard enough.” Then the door unlocked, and Dean was standing there.

“I didn’t do it.” He whispered.

“It's been over four hours. Duane's blood is still clean. I don't think he's infected. I'd like to untie him, if that's all right.” Olivia asked us, and I gave her a nod while pouring the right amount of potassium chloride into a glass bottle.

“You know we’re gonna ask you why.” I raised an eyebrow, setting down the bottle.

“Yeah, I know.” Dean nodded.

“So why? Why didn’t you do it?” Sam asked.

“We’re gonna need more alcohol.” Sam left, leaving Dean and I alone.

“First molotov done.” I put a rag in the hole, setting it aside. “You can talk to me, Dean. Why?”

“What you told me got in my head when I was about to murder the sucker.” He looked up at me. “You and Sammy mean the most to me. I don’t wanna see the day that you tell me I’m a monster.”

“I’d never say that.” I cupped his cheek, and he leaned into my touch. “Never-“ We heard crashing, and James and Mark ran in, armed. I pulled out my gun, busting open the door just as Pam smeared blood over a cut on Sam’s chest. I lifted my gun in an instant, shooting her twice in the back in cold blood. She fell to the side, and Sam pushed her off, getting up hurriedly.

“She bled on him. He's got the virus.” Mark announced.

“Get him to Dr Lee.” I ordered. “This is enough. Too many people are dying.” We got Sam to the medical room, where Olivia got to examining him.

“Doc, check his wound again, would you?” Dean frowned, pacing.

“What's she need to examine him for?” Mark scoffed. “You saw what happened.”

“Did her blood actually enter your wound?” Olivia asked Sam gently.

“Come on, of course it did!”

Dean shook his head. “We don’t know that for sure.”

“We can’t take a chance.” Duane retorted.

“You know what we have to do.” Mark murmured.

Dean gritted his teeth, “Nobody is shooting my brother.”

“He ain’t gonna be your brother much longer. You said it yourself.”

“Nobody is gonna shoot anyone.”

“You tried to shoot me!” Duane yelled.

“You don't shut your pie-hole, I still might!”

“Oh, just SHUT UP!” I shouted, silencing everyone. “We still don’t have any idea whether Pam’s blood mixed with Sam’s. I get it, we can’t take chances, but the testosterone is killing me!”

“She’s right.” James agreed. “So, Sam, what do you say?”

”Dean, they're right.” Sam nodded sadly. “I'm infected; just give me the gun and I'll do it myself.”

“Forget it.” Dean whispered.

“Dean, I’m not gonna become one of those things.”

“Sam, we've still got some time-“

“Time for what? Look, I understand he's your brother, and I'm sorry, I am.” Mark sympathised. “But we gotta take care of this.” He pulled out his his handgun, but I stepped in the way.

“This is his decision, not yours.” I gritted my teeth, glaring daggers at him. “I'm gonna say this one time — you make a move on him, you'll be dead before you hit the ground. You understand me? I mean, do I make myself clear?!”

“Then what are we supposed to do?!”

I held up my hand, and the keys to the Impala flew into them from Dean’s hand. I handed them to him. “Get the hell out of here, that's what. Take my car. You've got the explosives, there's an arsenal in there. You three go with him. You've got enough firepower to handle anything now.”

“What about you and Dean?”

“Dean, Ivy, no. No. Go with them.” Sam pleaded. “This is your only chance!”

”You’re not getting rid of us that easy, kid.” I smiled sadly.

“No, he’s right.” Mark frowned. “Come with us.” We didn’t answer, so he shrugged. “Fine. It’s your funeral.”

“I'm sorry. Thanks for everything, Marshals.” Olivia nodded with a pained expression.

“Oh, we’re not really Marshals.” Dean chuckled awkwardly. “And he’s not FBI.”

“Oh. Ok.” She went out the door, and then James walked up to me, cupping my cheeks tenderly, his eyes glistening.

“Come with me.” He whispered, leaning his forehead on mine.

“I can’t.” I sighed. “Besides, this seems like a good way to go. In a blaze of glory.”

“Don’t say that, don’t say-“ I kissed him, fighting off my own tears.

“If I make it out, I’ll find you. Or text you. Or pick up the phone for the first time. Either way, you’ll know.” I patted his chest. “Now, you need to go.” He hugged me tightly, kissing my hair and breathing out shakily before detaching himself.

“I love you.”

“I know.” He went out the door, and I turned back to the boys.

“Wish we had a deck of cards, or a foosball table or something.” Dean joked.

“Dean, Ivy, don't do this. Just get the hell out of here.”

“No way.”

“Give me my gun, and leave.”

“For the last time, Sam.” I shook my head. “No.”

Sam slammed the table, tears running down his face. “This is the dumbest thing you've ever done!”

“Oh, I don't know about that.” Dean shuddered. “Remember that waitress in Tampa?”

“Dean, Ivy, I'm sick. It's over for me. It doesn't have to be for you.”

“No?”

“You can keep going.”

“Who says we want to?” I shrugged.

“What?”

Dean crossed too the other side of the room, running his hand through his hair and pulling a gun out of his waistband. “I'm tired, Sam. I'm tired of this job, this life… this weight on my shoulders, man. I'm tired of it.”

“I’ve lived eight years wondering where I went wrong, Sam, and it’s one hell of a burden.” I wiped a tear from my eye. “I’m meant to be in prison. Heck, I should be dead. At least my dad gets to live.”

“So what, so you're just going to give up?” Sam scoffed. “You're just gonna lay down and die? Look, Dean, I know this stuff with Dad has-“

“You're wrong. It's not about Dad. I mean, part of it is, sure, but…”

“What’s it about?” Dean’s reply was cut off by a knock on the door, so I went to open it. Olivia was there, looking spooked.

“You better come see this.” She said.

“There's no one. Not anywhere. They've all just… vanished.” Olivia shrugged.

“Either they’re planning a surprise attack, or somebody wiped out this town. Either way, let’s get back inside.” I frowned. “But everyone who disappeared was infected.”

“Let’s check Sam’s blood.” We rushed back inside, going straight to Sam’s blood sample. Olivia checked it, then looked surprised. “Well, it's been five hours and your blood's still clean. I don't understand it but I think you dodged a bullet.”

“But I was exposed. How could I not be infected?” Sam stammered.

“I don't know. But you're just not. I mean, you compare it with the Tanner samples…” She looked at the Tanners’ blood, “what the hell?”

“What is it?” I asked.

“Their blood. There's no trace of the virus. No sulfur, nothing.”

“So that’s it?” Dean confirmed.

“That’s it.” I brought the two aside, looking between them.

“Demonic plague.” I confirmed. “Never seen anything more like it. They infect the people, then completely wipe out anyone with sulfur in their blood. Which should be everyone in town.”

“Hey, the Sarge and I are getting the hell out of here, heading south. You should come.” Duane grinned.

“I'd better get over to Sidewinder, get the authorities up here. If they'll believe me. Take care.” Olivia smiled.

“What about him?” Dean nodded to Sam.

“He's going to be fine. No signs of infection.” I went over to her, beaming.

“From one sane woman to another, you took this better than most.” I smirked.

“From one sane woman to another, I probably wouldn’t have gone mad if you hadn’t kept everyone in check.” We hugged, and I gave her a once over.

“Take care.” I went back to the boys, correcting my jacket collar.

“I swear, I'm gonna lose sleep over this one.” Dean scoffed. “I mean, why here, why now? And where the hell did everybody go? It's like they just friggin' melted.”

“Demonic plagues do that.” I sighed.

“Why was I immune?” Sam thought aloud as he went to the backseat of the Impala.

“Yeah. You know what? That's a good question.” Dean agreed as we got in the car. “You know, I'm already starting to feel like this is the one that got away?”

“I sure don’t want it to come back.” I chuckled.

I dialled a number when I got home, putting it to my ear.

‘New York PD, James Rhodes speaking.’

“I told you I’d call.” I heard a laugh of relief from the other end, and I grinned.

‘Ivy! You made it out?’

“Yeah. Sam was immune, turns out. Plus, everyone in Rivergrove disappeared, just like that.”

‘What’s the conclusion?’

“Demonic plague.” I replied. “I’m not sure what type, but it’s happened.”

‘Damn. But does that mean you’re free to have dinner sometime?’

“Depends. How illegal are the methods to obtain it?”

‘Completely legal.’

“It’s not for me, honey, sorry.” I joked. “I’m available tomorrow at 8.”

‘Sounds like a plan.’

”Also, I thought you were Baltimore PD.”

‘I transferred.’ I could feel his smirk on the other side. ‘Goodnight, beautiful.’

“Sweet dreams, handsome.”

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#dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x oc #spn #spn masterlist #supernatural #dean winchester x you #supernatural oc

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justawhitewall · 1 year

Note

hello, hope you are well. could we maybe, possibly, have a tiny sneak peek of the masterpiece that is mirages of you? pls 🥺

i gotta say, this ask yanked me out of my writers block, so thank you <3 here's a little preview of the next chapter!!

“Can nuns get hickeys?”

Beatrice frowned. Her hand rose halfway to her neck, then froze. “Physically? Nuns have the same anatomy as anyone else, I suppose, so if someone were to –”

“Beatrice.” Ava folded her arms in front of her. “You know that’s not what I meant. Are you, like, allowed or whatever?”

Beatrice’s mouth twitched downwards. “Well there’s no specific rule about it, but I wouldn’t consider a hickey chaste. Why? Are you…” She trailed off, then straightened her shoulders. When she spoke again, her voice was pitched down, soft and a little dangerous. “Are you thinking of giving a nun a hickey?”

Well, shit, now I am.

Beatrice’s eyes didn’t leave hers. It almost felt like she was issuing a challenge, like Ava had crossed a line and Beatrice was – well, Ava didn’t know what she was, but she knew what the words did to her, and pushed that feeling down as far as she could.

“No,” she lied. She stepped forward, raising a hand to Beatrice’s neck and lowering the collar of her shirt an inch or two. She hadn’t seen it up close, but now that she had, it was undeniable. “You already have one.”

She let her fingers trail against it for a second, curious.

“Ava,” Beatrice said. There was a quiver in her voice that Ava didn’t quite know what to make of. “I can explain.”

Ava shrugged and pulled her hand away. “Don’t have to.”

“I – I don’t?” A hint of something hopeful colored the edges of her words, and Ava felt bad for being angry. Beatrice deserved to explore, to live a little. She’d taken her vows younger than most, she’d said, and they were about to wage war on a dude who was either a demon or the devil in a battle for Earth itself. Beatrice deserved to enjoy the little time they had in this idyllic town however she pleased.

Ava just wished it was with her.

“You can do whatever you want.” Her voice sounded tight, unnatural, even to her own ears. “If you need me out of the apartment just – leave a sock on the door, or something.”

Beatrice frowned. “A… sock?”

“Yeah. Like in the movies, when some dude bro brings a girl back to his dorm he leaves a sock on the door to let his roommate know.”

“‘Dude bro?’” Beatrice shook her head. “I’m afraid you’ve lost me. But I – Ava, I’m not bringing anyone home.”

For a second, Ava was relieved, until she realized that that made it worse, actually. Beatrice was hooking up with someone – where? In public? In their house? Her imagination took the thought and ran. The image was becoming a bit sharper, and she didn’t like it one bit.

“I’m just trying to say that it’d be fine if you wanted to.”

Beatrice raised an eyebrow. “It would?”

“Of course.” Ava put on her best smile, then, to her own horror, reached out and lightly punched Beatrice in the shoulder. “It’s like, totally cool. I’m glad you’re getting out there.”

And deep down, she was. Beatrice deserved to live authentically. She deserved to explore, to experiment, to thrive. Again, she just wished it was with –

No. She squashed the thought, twisted her metaphorical foot on top of it to make sure it was good and dead. She wasn’t going to be like this. She was going to be a good friend.

Beatrice looked down at her shoulder, frowning at the spot Ava had just nudged with her fist, then back up at Ava. “Ava, I – “

“I should get back downstairs. I think I heard Hans call for me.”

She hadn’t, and she was pretty sure Beatrice knew that, but Beatrice nodded anyway, her mouth flattening into a thin line as she nodded. “Right.”

that's all for now, but I have been chipping away at it little by little and hope that the rest will be done soon!

I don't think I've talked about this much on tumblr, but I had about a month or so there where I was having some problems with my hands and couldn't write much at all, and once I got that more or less sorted, the writers block had set in. I really appreciate everyone who has sent an ask or left a comment, you've all been very kind and patient and it's been lovely to feel that support :)

#my writing #sorry this is taking forever but i do think it shouldn't be too too long now!!#thank you to everyone who has reached out

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the-case-book-of-fanfiction · 2 years

Text

Not Quite Dead

Ship: Eddie x fem!reader

Summary: You find yourself alone in Hawkins, a town ripped to shambles despite the sacrifices made to save it. Is it better or worse that Eddie doesn't live to see it? He'll tell you himself.

Word Count: 6,085

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of Eddie's fate s4e9, not-quite-flashbacks, a tiny bit of a plot, implied (years previous) sex

Notes: This story takes place after season 4. Reader is Eddie's longtime girlfriend.

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Maybe it was best he had no gravestone. The whole town would deface it if he had one. You could see it in your head: tiny little carrots like the ones your English teachers used to mark your papers with, except the carrot would change the name engraved to Eddie 'the freak' Munson. Or maybe they'd just spray paint over his name, or even try to scrape it off, and just write 'the freak' in its place. Or 'murderer' or 'cult leader' or whatever insane shit they thought he was. There would be pentagrams, disgusting graffiti, everything that shouldn't be on his grave—but already decorated his missing posters—would find a home there.

So maybe it was better that there was nothing to commemorate him. But it hurt, just a little bit, to see graves for Chrissy, for Fred, for Patrick—but nothing for the hero of Hawkins.

Not that it meant much to be the hero of Hawkins. There was a line at a constant stand-still leading out of the town, most people desperate to get out of it. Those that stayed lived in fear and muttered about how the Devil had finally come to drag Hawkins to Hell. The ground was still broken and sunk in from the ruptures that had healed only slightly—just enough to no longer be glowing scars in the ground leading directly into what really was Hell.

Everyone was speculating what the cave-ins were. Some people said it was from an earthquake, and that was the most popular theory. Some said it was the result of Satanic activity, and those were the people that defaced Eddie's posters. Some said it wasn't quite Satanic, but definitely paranormal.

You knew what it was. You couldn't talk about it. Not because you alone knew what it was—your friends, the kids who had gravitated toward Eddie and the recent Hawkins graduates who hadn't actually gotten a graduation, knew what had happened. They knew what the ruptures were. They had been trying to get you to join in on their conversations and talk to them about the ruptures, what you had seen in the Upside Down.

But you couldn't talk about it. They knew why. It had taken you almost two months before you could even say your boyfriend's name or look at his destroyed missing posters.

Normally, you told your friends everything, especially Robin, who had been the first person to accept that you and Eddie were a thing. She had been your closest confidant since middle school, when you saw Eddie play for the first time and had an instant crush on him. But you couldn't even talk to her these days. You couldn't tell her that you still woke up in a cold sweat, that you still needed to listen to the tapes of unfinished Corroded Coffin songs that were mostly just Eddie's voice just to get to sleep, that you would zone out only to realize you were crying seemingly over nothing, that you had gone to the store to pick up more of Eddie's cologne because you'd been wearing it and had used it all up already, that you took a shower every time you woke up from an accidental nap because it still felt like you were covered in blood, that you slept in his leather jacket even though it was way too hot for that, that you wore the ring he'd frantically pressed into your hand as his breathing faltered on your necklace, that you refused to delete any of the numerous voicemails on the phone in your room because they were all of Eddie calling you with something for a campaign in his head he wanted to run by you.

And you definitely couldn't tell her that none of these little reminders actually helped, because, at the end of the day, you still had to go to sleep alone after six years of having him just an arm's length away. And there was nothing worse than realizing, every time you turned around to tell Eddie something, that he wasn't there, and that he wasn't ever going to be there again.

You hated Jason. You blamed him for dragging Eddie into this mess. But you understood him now. If you hadn't known about Vecna and the Upside Down, you would have been more than happy to blame someone for Eddie's death, just like he had blamed Eddie for Chrissy.

You had tried so hard not to get Eddie dragged into your life. You'd gotten sucked in when you found Nancy crying in the bathroom after Barb went missing, and your life had gotten a lot more complicated after that. Eddie had always had enough enough on his plate as it was. You never wanted to make it worse.

But then Chrissy—

"Y/N? You okay?" Robin snapped her fingers in front of your face. She looked worried, and you had a feeling she'd been trying to get your attention for a long time. Steve and Nancy, sitting on a picnic blanket with the boys, Max, and Eleven just a few feet away, looked over at you, terrified. Dustin seemed to be the only one who knew exactly why you'd been in your head instead of in the park.

"Huh?"

"You zoned out again," she said, sitting down beside you. "At first I thought it was just because Steve's yapping about girls again, but, uh, then I realized..." She wiped her finger underneath your eyes, and you felt the tear smudge across your cheek. You flinched away violently. Robin went pale. "Oh, God, he used to— Oh, Y/N, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize—"

You took a shaky breath and swiped your knuckles under your eyes. "It...it's fine. I just...sorry."

"There's no need to apologize, that was totally my fault, I should have realized—"

"No, please. It's fine." You sniffed, breathing out through your mouth. "I'm fine. I just...need a minute."

You got up quickly, your head reeling instantly, and you stumbled toward the public bathroom just feet away. You balled your hands into fists. You went to open the door and something slammed into your arm. You screamed upon recognizing what it was—a bat.

You stumbled backward away from it, your throat tightening and every muscle seizing up. It wasn't a demobat, sure, but it was still a bat. All it took was one glance at its mouth and you could hear Eddie's heavy panting, feel his blood, see the tears on his face, feel his rapidly fading heartbeat beneath your fingers, hear him crying but trying to hide it from Dustin.

The bat chirruped squeakily, hopping toward you on the ground. One of its wings was a bit mangled and bloody, dragging awkwardly behind the rest of its body.

You whimpered, stepping around the bat. "I'm sorry, little guy, but I just really don't like you. Robin says you have...rabies. Or—or something."

No, that was definitely not why you didn't like bats, but you didn't need to explain to the broken creature—or to anyone else, for that matter, including yourself—that you didn't like them because they'd torn your boyfriend apart.

With a quiet whimper, you slammed the door of the bathroom shut behind you. A small thump echoed against the door. You had a feeling it was the bat.

You locked yourself in one of the bathroom stalls and put a hand over your mouth to muffle the sounds of your tears, just in case Robin or Nancy came to check on you.

~❊~

That night, you stared at your empty bed. You touched the pillow made out of the red and black flannel Eddie had loved to wear when it was cold out. Wayne had given it to you almost immediately after Dustin had told him about Eddie.

"This is...this is yours now," Wayne had said, holding it out to you. You'd tried to protest that no, he should keep it as a memento, but Wayne was having none of it. "He would have wanted you to have it, Y/N. I...I'm sure he told you often, but you were his world. He'd want you to have something of his."

And you did, you really did. You wore the flannel around everywhere, to anything, anywhere, at any time, before it became too much of a memory. Any time you caught a glimpse of it or put it on, you remembered the time he wrapped you up in it after getting caught in the rain, or the time he used it as a pillow for your head when you got busy in his van, or the time he wrapped it around his waist when it got unexpectedly warm. So you cut it up and made it into a pillow case, because that was a little more bearable.

You hugged the pillow to your chest as you lay in the darkness of your room. It still smelled a little bit like him, even after being washed quite a few times. And even after being cried on many, many times.

Tonight was going to be one of those nights, a night where you were crying even before you fell asleep and woke up in the morning, you could just tell.

Head buried into the flannel pillow, you almost didn't hear it. The small thump on your window. But after a few seconds of silence, it registered in the back of your head that that was not normal. The last time you'd heard that sound was when Eddie knocked before crawling through your window at night, some three years ago, before your parents gave up because you loved the metalhead, try as they might try to get you to fall for the jock.

You rolled out of bed and flicked on the light, pushing up the window and shoving your head out into the night.

Nothing.

A chirrup.

You looked down and squeaked.

There it was again, the bat with the mangled wing, resting on the slanted shingles of your roof—one of them out of place from the time Eddie had given you a heart attack by slipping on it. You frowned at the bat, a little less terrified of it than the first time you'd seen it. "How did you get up here, little thing?" Your room was on the third floor of your house, but it seemed impossible that the tiny thing could fly up there with a broken wing.

Ignoring Robin's small voice in your head saying it probably—no, definitely—had rabies and was following you, you reached out a hand and stroked the top of its head. To your surprise, it made a very human-like coo.

"Oh, you just want love, don't you?" You sighed as you took in its wing. "And maybe some help. Look, little one, I'm sorry, but I can't help you. You terrify me." Because you killed my boyfriend, even though you didn't actually kill my boyfriend, and neither did your actual species, but tomato, tomato. "Maybe one day I'll be able to tell you why."

You shut the window and curled yourself around your pillow once more, reaching a hand up to the necklace you refused to take off—the one with Eddie's ring on it. You held the ring tightly in your hand, and it was still there when you jolted awake in the morning, covered in sweat and panicking just like always.

But before you took your usual shower, you glanced out the window.

The bat was gone.

~❊~

"I think I'm going insane."

You sat with Dustin on a park bench, by the edge of the graying field. The disease—or whatever it was, but the townspeople called it a disease—was spreading further and further out each day, but you still hadn't figured out exactly what it was. Nancy was sure it had something to do with the vision Vecna had shown you, but you didn't have the mental or emotional strength to help them figure it out.

You'd seen the bat several more times—at the record store where you worked, at the autobody shop Eddie used to work at, at your front door, on your car, on the sidewalk, through your bathroom window, and several more times by your bedroom window. You didn't know what the others would do if you told them you were seeing the same bat everywhere (Robin might tell you to get checked for rabies), but you trusted Dustin to take you seriously and...and not tell you that you were crazy.

"Why?"

"Because there's a bat with a mangled wing that's following me everywhere."

Dustin frowned. "Go on."

You explained, in detail, every time you had seen the bat. As usual, Dustin put it all together in record time.

"And you think that you're hallucinating the bat...because it's always showing up when you're thinking about...Eddie?"

You nodded. "And more than that—there's something special about each of those places. That sidewalk? Not a random sidewalk! Outside the restaurant Eddie took me to on our first date six years ago. Bedroom window? He always crawled through to come see me! My front door? Whenever I was upset, he'd surprise me with a big bouquet of flowers outside on my front step."

Dustin frowned. "There's...something special about Eddie and your...bathroom...window?"

You blushed. "It's not what you're thinking, I swear, he accidentally broke it once."

"He what?"

"He was waving around an old stick and it broke and flew through the bathroom window. It's nothing creepy, I swear."

Dustin raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure your parents loved him?"

"Eh." You sighed, putting your head in your hands. "I don't know, Dustin. It's just... I feel like I'm losing my mind. Hallucinating. I just don't know why it would be a bat, of all things! I mean...they...or something like them, really..." You put your head in your hands. "Why would I see a bat everywhere that means something to the two of us?"

"He liked bats," Dustin remembered. "In fact, he liked them so much he had a tattoo of them. Maybe that's why?"

"I mean, that would make sense if the demobats hadn't—"

"I know," he sighed. "But now you can't think of the tattoo, you just think of—"

"Blood," you said bluntly. "His blood. His death. Yeah."

"Has anyone else seen the bat?"

"No."

Dustin was silent for a moment, then said, "Alright, fine. Take me somewhere that meant a lot to both of you, another one of those special places, and if you see him, maybe it's a hallucination. But if we both see him, it's not. Then we'll figure out what it is after that."

You thought for a moment, then dragged Dustin to his feet. "I know exactly the place."

~❊~

It took some bribing, but you got the bartender of the bar the boys loved playing at to take you around back to the dressing rooms. You refused to tell Dustin why it was special, other than that the band played here all the time, but you were pretty sure from his expression he figured it out as soon as your eyes darted to the desk and you turned red. You remembered bursting through that door and seeing Eddie perched on the desk, swinging his legs like a little kid because the show had gone so well, and—

"Oh, no," Dustin groaned, jolting you out of your reverie, "don't tell me that you two actually—"

"Fine, I won't tell you."

"You know, saying that is almost worse."

"Oh, shut up, Dustin. We were together for six years, there's not a chance in hell that we didn't—"

"But in a dressing room? A public dressing room?"

"The door was locked!" you said defensively. "Although he did get quite loud that night."

"NOPE, no more!" Dustin said, clamping his hands to his ears. "Alright, fine. It's special. Gross, but special. Why here?"

You flopped into the chair at the desk, remembering Eddie's feet kicked up on it while the two of you kissed and giggled, his back to the mirror. "Two years in, Eddie and the band had a gig and he finally let me, y'know, get on my knees for him, so to speak. It was the second time we ever did anything, so, you know. Special."

Dustin was making a face.

You rolled your eyes. "Shut up, we were sixteen and horny."

He sighed, sitting down on the small couch, the only other piece of furniture in the room. "I'm actually not all that surprised. Seems like Eddie."

You smiled to yourself. "Yeah. Seems like Eddie."

Dustin folded his hands together. "I miss him, too, you know. I miss him being dramatic and standing on tables. I miss the voices he used to do during campaigns. I miss play fighting with him."

You hugged yourself, letting your leg swing. "Yeah... I miss his voicemails, because he'd called me while I was at work when he had an idea. I miss listening to him sing on stage. I miss just hanging out in his room while he wrote songs and I studied. Shit, I even miss watching him get frustrated when he was trying to learn a song on the guitar and it wasn't coming to him. You should have seen him trying to learn Master of Puppets. He was nonstop playing that guitar. I swear he didn't sleep for a week just so he could get it down. I used to tease him he was trying to pick up girls."

"He didn't want other girls," Dustin said, picking up on that old insecurity that used to bubble up all the time. "He wanted you."

"That's why it was teasing, Dusty. There was a time when I was afraid of that, but that was never his fault. If Eddie was one thing, he was loyal to a fault."

Dustin sat in silence, clearly working up the courage to say something. You waited, letting him find the words. Eddie had always done the same thing when he wanted to talk about something that meant a lot to him. No wonder the two of them had clicked so quickly.

"If I could go back to that moment," Dustin said, voice almost imperceptible, "when he decided to draw them away, when he cut the sheet and just—just ran... Y/N, I would. I would go back, and I would change everything. I'd make him go first. I'd...I'd do what he did instead, just to make sure he got back to you."

You looked up, your heart breaking at the absolute sorrow and anger in his voice. "Dustin..."

"If I could have died in his place, I would do it." He was shaking with his fierce determination. "Y/N, I swear it."

You got off the desk. "Dustin, hon, no. Please, no. I don't...I don't wish you had died instead. I wish none of you had to die. I wish Max wasn't blind, I wish Eddie wasn't gone, I wish none of this had ever happened. I wouldn't trade you, any of you, just to get Eddie back because he would have hated that more than anything and because you are my friends."

"But one of us would hurt less than Eddie," Dustin mumbled.

"Dustin," you said, because you could think of nothing else to say. You pulled him into a hug.

And then there was a chirrup in your ear.

You screamed, lurching back, automatically swatting at your shoulder. The little bat fell onto the couch beside Dustin and he squeaked at you, almost accusatory.

"Oh, don't start with me, you scared the life out of me!" you snapped at it, then frowned. "Dustin, did I just argue with the imaginary bat in my head?"

Dustin was staring at the bat. "Yes—you argued with it, no—it's not in your head. I can see it." He stood up slowly. "I thought you said it had a mangled wing?"

You peered at it. "I think it's healing. Look, it's still dragging behind the rest of it, but it's not bloody anymore."

The bat chirruped again, inching closer to you. You slowly extended a hand, the bat's head following your movements. You gave its head a little pet with your forefinger. It sniffed you before chirruping again.

"It looks like a Mariana fruit bat, but this the wrong area for it," Dustin said from behind you. The bat's attention swiveled to him. "Hi, little guy. Where'd you come from? I don't think you got here all the way from Guam. Especially not as a baby."

"Is it a baby?"

"Look at the size of it! It's tiny, there's no way it's not a baby."

For some reason, the bat didn't seem to like being called tiny. It clicked rather angrily at Dustin before flying awkwardly out the window, open just a crack.

"What the hell?" Dustin muttered.

"Well, now you've met the bat," you sighed. "I wonder if I should name it."

"Don't name it! Robin'll think it gave you rabies."

"That's why Robin doesn't get to know about the bat."

"You haven't told her?"

"What would I do that for?! Just go up to her and say, Hello, Robin, I've been adopted by a bat, the same creature you're deathly afraid of because it has rabies! That'll go over swell, I'm sure."

Dustin rolled his eyes. "No need to be dramatic. It's not like the bat's done anything to you. Yet."

"Yet being the word Robin would pick up on. Look, for now, let's just keep it between us. Figure out why the bat likes me. Then go from there. If it's something to do with Vecna, then we'll tell them."

"And if not?"

"I'm sure it'll go away when it's fully healed. That's gotta be why it's following me. It's injured and not thinking straight."

~❊~

Storms had become even more and more recent in Hawkins. The weather was reflecting the foul of mood of the townspeople—or perhaps of Vecna, if Eleven was right. You were almost entirely certain she was.

But you couldn't put your finger on why Vecna hadn't attacked yet. Why would he let his displeasure show through the torrential showers that were ripping shingles off of Hawkins rather than just come through to kill everyone off himself?

You were debating exactly that as you sat through another storm of hurricane strength, staring out the window and waiting for it to be over. Sometimes the storms were only a few seconds long, but this one felt like it was going to last for days.

You sighed and rolled off your bed, flopping on the floor beside your collection of cassette tapes. There had to be twenty Corroded Coffin tapes in there, but you were looking for one specific one. It wasn't quite a Corroded Coffin tape, really, because Eddie never let the band see this one—this one was just for you, songs he'd written when you couldn't look over his shoulder to see the words.

It took a little bit to find the tape, but once you did, you felt immeasurable relief. You played the tape and cracked open your window enough to smell the rain, leaning your back against your bed and closing your eyes.

Eddie's voice flooded your ears as he started the little speech he'd written for the first song. He'd written one for each song, explaining why he'd written it and when or something special about it. He'd been adorably embarrassed when he handed it to you, blushing profusely and apologizing about how stuttery he was when he'd recorded it and how his voice was a little shaky and how they weren't exactly what he wanted them to sound because he didn't have the band to do the background music. But you'd loved them all.

"Hi, sweetheart. Happy seventeenth birthday. Belated, sorry, but I, uh...I couldn't get all these perfect in time, so... So I waited. Um. They're still not as perfect as I'd like them to be, but, uh. But you deserved your birthday gift before you thought I'd forgotten about you. Uh. Yeah. So. Ah, jeez, I didn't think an introduction would be this hard. Maybe I should have had a script," his recorded voice said with that little breathy laugh you'd always loved. "Um. Anyway. This...this first one. I wrote it a while ago, actually, for you. Like a long while ago. Like when I first realized I liked you a while ago. Probably before you knew I existed. I'm talking middle school early— Maybe I should stop talking about how long ago I wrote it. Um. Sorry. Rambling. Uhhh...it's about how I felt that first time I saw you. A little cliché, yeah, but, um...every word's true. Every word, sweetheart. I really did fall in love with you at first sight. I mean, how could I not, when you looked over at me and smiled like that, that shy smile with your tongue poking out between your teeth and bottom lip. I love that smile. So, um. So I called it 'Shy Smile.' The song. This song. So, um. Here goes nothing, I guess."

And, oh, could that boy sing. Corroded Coffin might have been a heavy metal band, but Eddie could certainly manage the soft songs just as artfully. He had the perfect voice for it, a gentle croon that had sometimes lulled you to sleep.

You remembered very clearly Eddie singing the songs he wrote for you and smoothing his hand over your hair to get you to sleep when you were stressed or upset. And it had always worked.

Recorded Eddie hummed through his guitar solo and your chest tightened. You drew your legs up, settling your head on them. "Oh, Eddie, you have no idea how much I need you."

And then, a few songs later, he was crooning about how much he loved you, promising never to leave you, telling you he'd always be by your side.

The tears came suddenly and didn't stop. Your body shook violently as you sobbed, his name somewhere in between the sniffles and cries. You dragged the flannel pillow off the bed and wrapped your body around it, burying yourself in his familiar, if faint, scent.

It took Eddie's voice in another song's introduction to ground you again. "Okay, baby, I've got a happier one for you. Well. Not that they've been sad, really, just...this one's less sappy. Even though I know you're a sap, and I'm a sap, and we're just two hopeless romantics." God, you could hear his smile. "This one's about that day we spent at Lover's Lake. That was...such an—an awesome day. And I promise it's not about the sex in the van, I want you to be able to listen to this with your parents around." A beat, which you managed a shaky laugh during. "Not sure if you can now, now that I've...that I've said that. Well, just let me know, I'll make you another tape without the introductions if I gotta. And don't you say it's too much work, because I'll do anything for my girl. Got that? Anything. Okay. Here we go, I called this one 'Lake Swimming.'"

You wiped your eyes. "It's okay. You're okay. You've still got him like this. And that's all you can have now."

In the midst of the softness of Eddie's acoustic guitar, you heard it. The chirruping. Your head snapped toward the window, and there was the little bat, clinging to the window and trying desperately to squeeze through the tiny crack.

You lurched to your feet. "Oh, you poor thing! Out in that storm all by yourself. And so little!" It squeaked. "Oh, right. You don't like being called little. What's that about?" You pushed up the window, cupping the bat in your hands. "Oh, oh no, you're shivering!" You closed the window with your elbow, cuddling the bat close to your chest. "Robin would so kill me for this."

The bat chirruped.

"What is it? Do you want to be put down?"

The bat sniffed your hands and attached itself to your shirt, crawling up you until it had reached your shoulder. It perched there.

"Um. Okay, then," you said, sitting back down carefully. "I wonder if you're hungry..." Well, you had some fruit in the fridge, and a fruit bat would certainly eat that, right? "Can I put you down so you don't freak out my parents?" You gently plucked the bat from your shoulder, nestling him on the flannel pillow. "Um. Stay. I'll be right back."

You hurried downstairs, grabbing the container of fruit from your fridge with a flippant excuse that you were just a little hungry. The bat was sitting exactly where you left it when you returned and offered it a piece of fruit.

It crawled into your hand and munched down on the fruit. You sat back on the floor, turning the volume on Eddie's tape up a bit more. "I hope you don't mind my boyfriend's music, my friend. It's quite good, if I say so myself, and I don't think I'm just biased. He's really good." You sat in silence, propping your head up on one of your knees again. "I miss him."

The bat looked at you curiously. You put it and the fruit on your floor, reaching for a framed photograph of yourself and Eddie instead, with his arms slung around you from behind and a smile on his face as you kissed his cheek. You vision blurred as you lifted the photo to your lips and kissed it gently.

"I'd give anything," you said to the bat, staring fixedly at Eddie's happy face, "just to see him again, just for a few minutes. Just to...to get a better goodbye. To kiss him goodbye and hold him and make it as peaceful as possible. To tell him it would be alright. To tell him I love him. To tell him that I miss him. No. No, I wouldn't tell him I miss him, because then that would make him feel guilty, and how can you feel guilty about dying? I mean...it's not his fault." You wiped your eyes. "I'd just...I'd want to make him feel better. Peaceful. I don't...I wish he hadn't gone out the way he did, y'know? In pain. Crying. Knowing what was coming. Having to say goodbye to—to Dustin." You laughed shakily. "Oh, God, Eddie. I'm going insane. I'm talking about you to a bat." You looked down at your feet. "A bat that's now missing in my house. Or maybe he was never there in the first place and I'm just crazy."

"You're not crazy," said his smooth voice, and your head whipped toward the cassette player. Since when was the quality so good? A small chuckle from behind you. You froze. "Wrong way, sweetheart." And two fingers, one marked by a tan line where a ring would have been, slipped under your jaw, turning your head slowly.

His eyes—his sweet, pretty eyes—stared you full in the face. Your eyes took him in, noticing the scars on his face and his hips. You studied him, drinking in every hollow in his gaunt body. But you knew those tattoos. You knew those eyes. You knew that voice.

You blinked rapidly, subtly pinching your arm. He laughing, covering your hand with his own.

"You're naked, Eddie," you said, and you realized seconds after they came out that they were not the words you wanted to be saying. You clapped your hands over your mouth, face heating.

Eddie shrugged. "It's nothing you haven't seen before."

"Eddie, you're..."

"Nope. I'm not."

"Eddie, I was there, I saw you die in Dustin's arms!"

"Nope," he said again, and you could finally hear how tired and haggard he sounded it. "Unfortunately not."

"Unfortunately?!"

He shrugged. "I think being dead would be better than my fate." He pointed to the fruit left on the floor. "That's the first I've eaten in almost three months."

"You— The fruit? You were the bat?!"

He nodded.

"Right, okay, mister, what the fuck?"

He sighed. "So no loving and tearful greeting for the not-dead boyfriend?"

"Eddie. Talk to me. And then maybe I'll cry over you. But I want answers first."

Eddie leaned against you, cuddling his body closer to yours. Automatically, you reached an arm around his shoulders. He made a chirruping sound similar to the sound of the bat he'd been only minutes before. "Truth is, I don't have a lot of answers. All I know is that I died in the Upside Down, then woke up here as a bat. And then I tried to not be a bat, of course, but that didn't help. I just broke my wing. Not sure if that means my arm was broken or...something. I'm sure that'll be an awkward doctor's visit in the future. Point is, once I figured out I couldn't...change form or whatever you wanna call it, I tried to find you, but it's all different when you're a bat. I had to pick up your scent, but I couldn't."

"So that day at the park, by the bathrooms—"

"I'd finally caught sight of you. After that, I figured I should try and stay close. I thought maybe you'd figure out it was me somehow, if I was obvious enough."

"Which is why you always found me at our special places."

Eddie sighed his relief into your shoulder. "Exactly." He wrapped his arms around your waist. "Oh, sweetheart."

You brushed a hand over his hair, your shocked brain not quite realizing that he was really there but already falling back into the routine of your relationship. "So how'd you get human again?"

"Dunno. I think you made me cry and it made me feel human enough to be around you, talking about me and listening to my music." He looked into your eyes. "I do feel guilty. About not being able to tell you sooner that I was still kicking. I...I know it was hard for me, but...I was kind of scatterbrained. I couldn't quite process being alone. But you... You had everything to deal with, all those emotions."

"We'll talk this out in the morning."

"Why not now?"

"Because you're shivering against me. You were a soaked bat about three minutes ago, and now you're a very naked boy again. Let's get you warmed up, okay? I'll run the shower."

Eddie whimpered with relief at your words, clinging to you as you helped him to stand up on wobbly legs. You helped him into your bathroom and shower, joining him to make sure he wouldn't fall on his own. He clung to your arm as the two of you attempted to get him warm and clean.

"Your clothes are soaked now," he mumbled, but still pulled you into a tight hug against his chest.

"I don't really care," you whispered. "I'm holding you again."

When you shut the shower off, you made Eddie sit on the floor as you fetched him clothes.

It wasn't until you'd gathered clothes—all of them his, some of them (like the shirt) given to you by Wayne, but most of them (like the pants and boxers and socks) were from Eddie leaving them behind at your house for the nights he snuck in through your window—that it truly hit you that he was back.

He wasn't just back, he was alive.

Your Eddie.

Alive. Safe. In your bathroom. Home where he belonged.

You dropped the clothes as you fell to the floor, sobbing with relief. Eddie came running into your room, kneeling beside you.

"Sweetheart? What's wrong, what happened? What can I do? Is it me?"

You pulled him closer to you, burying your head into his neck. "Nothing's wrong. Nothing's wrong, Eddie, everything's perfect. Back to the way it should be. You're here."

He wrapped his arms tightly around you. "I'm here," he promised. "I've got you."

You cupped his face in your hands, kissing him softly. He whimpered against your mouth, missing you as much as you missed him. You pressed your forehead to his as he scooped you up and laid you gently on your bed. He pulled away from you, picking up his clothes and pulling them on. He laid beside you, pulling you back into his arms.

"Don't you ever make me think you're dead again, Eddie Munson, you hear?"

He kissed you again, arms sliding around your back. "Loud and clear, sweetheart."

"Good," you whispered into his mouth, "my little bat."

Eddie smiled against your lips. "Not little."

☞ ❊ ☜

Stranger Things // Eddie Munson

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the E.M. taglist!} @ohatropa @lilylilyyyyyy

#season 4 stranger things #stranger things #stranger things au #au stranger things #eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie x fem!reader #bat eddie #stranger things eddie #fix it fic #stranger things fix it

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theimperiumchronicles · 12 days

Note

Happy STS! What are your characters' favorite songs? Bonus: Why that song?

Happy STS, sweet Tori!!! <3 <3

I'm having to think on this week's question, so I'm going back to this question from last week when I was traveling because I DO have an answer to it for many characters. I hope you enjoy! <3

@theimperiumchronicles

Abriella - This Is Me by Keala Settle from The Greatest Showman - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B076Q58K3T?trackAsin=B076Q4B5BM&ref=dm_sh_55e1-fe51-7805-e105-5bb61

Reason - Abriella spent the first 23 years of her life running from the Crone that her mother Ariel had hidden her from her true father with. When her powers couldn't be controlled, the Crone tried to kill her on Ariel's orders. Through the love of Cruz, Dez, Talon, Deacon and Olly, she came into her own and has learned to be strong and that she is loved for who she is. Now she is apologetically HER.

Cruz - Indestructible by Disturbed - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B076Q58K3T?trackAsin=B076Q4B5BM&ref=dm_sh_55e1-fe51-7805-e105-5bb61

Reason - The chorus is basically him

Indestructible Determination that is incorruptible From the other side A terror to behold Annihilation will be unavoidable Every broken enemy will know That their opponent had to be invincible Take a last look around while you're alive I'm an indestructible master of war

Leandre - The Light by Disturbed - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B0108UP3A8?trackAsin=B0108UP8IK&ref=dm_sh_6dae-24cc-b938-74e1-75260

Reason - In the past, Leandre was captured during battle and held prisoner, tortured, and discovered that he had been betrayed by his wife. He was left in the dungeon of his captors to die. He was lost in his mind for a long time after he was rescued by Mithos and Andronicus. It took time, but through the healing he went through and the love and support of his friends, he found strength he didn't know he had. Then once Abriella came into his life, he found someone that saw a light in him that he did not even realize that he had. Now he still battles his demons, but he wins.

Leandre & Yael - Northern Star by Chris Mann - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B01DQ6NNMG?trackAsin=B01DQ6NOJS&ref=dm_sh_a426-c1e7-528d-9d59-5b946

Reason - Leandre is her Northern Star, her anchor in rough seas, her harbor in the storm

Lucifer - Villain by Theory of a Deadman - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B0057ZSKE6?trackAsin=B0057ZSNUC&ref=dm_sh_bc17-d0dd-2a97-5bcc-6f2f8

Reason - Come on, it's Lucifer...isn't this one kind of obvious?

Dez - Back From The Dead by Skillet - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B01FN74ZKU?trackAsin=B01FN7523E&ref=dm_sh_4ca6-d1ad-ffc3-9b21-264f8

Reason - Well he is literally back from the dead, so...

Anna - Kings & Queens by Ava Max - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B08MBDFL5T?trackAsin=B08MBCN4TR&ref=dm_sh_d574-a234-0a5e-3b36-2f9d9

@behindthesemasks

Most of the Mercenary Team - One For The Money by Escape the Fate - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B07Y6PBWHS?trackAsin=B07Y6P59MV&ref=dm_sh_e925-764b-a046-dc26-37786

Reason - These are not men who fuck around. They are battle hardened and ready for whatever is thrown at them. Ambrose and Nic have thrown a ton of shit at them. Already this trip has gone sideways and they are ready to rumble with whatever comes next.

@devil-in-the-details-ay

Yara - Halo by Beyonce - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B001KR9AP8?trackAsin=B001KR5RKA&ref=dm_sh_6143-4e7d-a6c8-fad3-b7bff

Reason - It's like it was written for her relationship with Astaroth.

Astaroth - Weight of Your World by Chris Mann - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B002IKE7D6?trackAsin=B002IKE7EA&ref=dm_sh_f948-783b-8211-113e-1d8a1

Reason - It's what he wants to do for Yara. He wants to help lift the weight she is carrying. He knows he has found his perfect counterpart, but she's let so much weigh her down, she can't shine like the diamond that she is.

@tapperhet-em

Meeri - White Flag by Bishop Briggs - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B07BHL6SGP?trackAsin=B07BHLSHVD&ref=dm_sh_7ead-0d78-2b84-b225-116e6

Reason - Her real family may have abandoned her, her uncle's soldiers may be hunting her, and she may doubt everything she ever thought; but she has Lorcan and Einar and their love. She is not going to give up, along with Elio and Tieran, they will figure it out, and they will persevere through this.

Einar - Rain Like This by Chris Mann - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B01DQ6NNMG?trackAsin=B01DQ6NPII&ref=dm_sh_a049-d558-2b51-dc0c-8a7dc

Reason - Einar and Meeri have been dancing around having a relationship for years. They've been more than friends but not quite lovers. Now everything is being tested with their current situation. Nothing is going to change his love for her or make him leave her; rather it is making him hold onto her tighter.

Lorcan - Love You Any Less - Rag'n'Bone Man - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B01N24MPTU?trackAsin=B01N24N72V&ref=dm_sh_7219-0d3d-0222-f175-fae0b

Reason - Lorcan has looked at everyone in the team as family for some time, but especially Meeri and Einar. He hasn't told them, but that is about to change. When things get dark, bonds will be tested, and truths will come out. Lorcan's love stands firm.

Einar, Lorcan, Elio, Tieran, Meeri - I'll Stand By You by The Pretenders - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B0035ZTROW?trackAsin=B0035ZRNCK&ref=dm_sh_6269-3a7f-35bd-1160-eab64

Reason - #1 Karaoke song for these idiots, and one that they mean to each other.

@the-andromeda-effect

Adira - Fight Song by Rachel Platten - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B0189VVIC0?trackAsin=B0189VVN5W&ref=dm_sh_e615-bc97-d90e-c34c-2ba62

Reason - With Caliban, Theron, and her four guards, Adira is going to find herself again. Already she is finding herself stronger than she was under the thumb of Mircea. When he declares his love for her, the caterpillar will gain her wings as a true butterfly. She does have a lot of fight left and she will gain more people in her corner soon.

Caliban - Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B00JLJ0Y2U?trackAsin=B00JLJ185C&ref=dm_sh_9ad4-c468-26fe-6f85-0ce40

Reason - Cal had never thought he would want a serious relationship, but the longer he's around Adira, that is changing. She has touched a part of his heart that he'd shut off. Just by being herself, she is awakening feelings in him that are foreign, but that he is liking. As at the cabin, he will realize that he does love her, and that is the most dangerous thing for a man like him, but he doesn't care.

@magical-mistakes-vm

Vollrath - Under Your Scars by Godsmack - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B079V2GT86?trackAsin=B079TZ1142&ref=dm_sh_b44b-c25a-5067-ce38-40858

Reason - Both he and Mahala have scars of the past and fears that they have hidden behind masks and walls. He wants to be near her, but is afraid, and knows she is too. The song fits them perfectly.

Balor - Comeback by Chris Mann - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B01DQ6NNMG?trackAsin=B01DQ6NUGU&ref=dm_sh_950c-67a1-eb5d-7cf0-0eb4b

Reason - Balor and Vollrath have been at each other's throats for years. Vollrath has looked down on Balor, and considered him an outcast of the Coven, but that is all about to change. Balor is going to have his comeback, not only in the eyes of his little brother, but the Coven as a whole.

Mahala - Stand By You - Rachel Platten - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B0189VVIC0?trackAsin=B0189VVJ3I&ref=dm_sh_1927-4a4f-42e1-9801-c94a0

Ermengarde - W.I.T.C.H. by Devon Cole - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B0B5B74N18?trackAsin=B0B5B5S4VM&ref=dm_sh_7d21-9c4a-2cf5-c71f-2d6ae

@mystsoftime

Dante - One Call Away by Charlie Puth - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B014DIAG62?trackAsin=B014DIAMQG&ref=dm_sh_90e0-434b-1497-ccb9-3d3d8

Trevarius - Lions by Skillet - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B01FN74ZKU?trackAsin=B01FN758KQ&ref=dm_sh_d35c-c5b1-6ba9-1254-bb0f4

Renata - Unstoppable by Red - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B075NPQN8K?trackAsin=B075NR4D58&ref=dm_sh_5dc3-8012-fd05-604e-ed544

Enzo - Hurt by Johnny Cash - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B00AYBU7TE?trackAsin=B00AYBU9EM&ref=dm_sh_280a-efb1-01cb-ff58-bc679

@battlegroundofdreams

Morpheus - All Eyes on You by Smash Into Pieces - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B084JPTP28?trackAsin=B084JCW5ZV&ref=dm_sh_31a9-f11f-f5b3-fadc-52712

Lorien - I'd Come For You by Nickelback - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B001KQKC0Q?trackAsin=B001KQGG38&ref=dm_sh_7391-289e-8f25-b0c5-8a2fa

Melinoe - God's Gonna Cut You Down by Johnny Cash - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B073JT39P8?trackAsin=B073PNMZY4&ref=dm_sh_fac2-aeb3-33e1-0124-e7041

Rua - Umbrella by Rihanna - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B00689J512?trackAsin=B00689J5WG&ref=dm_sh_686f-0276-f5b4-bdb7-24753

@princess-of-thieves-id

Diyan - Heavy is the Crown by Daughtry - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B08XDB1G6D?trackAsin=B08XDGFT8J&ref=dm_sh_1ae5-d9c4-9b54-d4b9-488c9

Inara - Burn the Ships by King & Country - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B0B5B74N18?trackAsin=B0B5B5S4VM&ref=dm_sh_7d21-9c4a-2cf5-c71f-2d6ae

Arik - We Found Love by Rihanna - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B00689J512?trackAsin=B00689J5WG&ref=dm_sh_686f-0276-f5b4-bdb7-24753

@whileyouwait-dm

Djall - The Fighter by Keith Urban - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B01DOO42BG?trackAsin=B01DOO42CU&ref=dm_sh_806e-2d0b-ece1-4b92-a5d58

Miriana - Safe and Sound by Beth Hunter - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B00C732JT8?trackAsin=B00C733KZU&ref=dm_sh_b58b-ad5f-a13c-4c2a-dfe0e

Eike - Unbreakable by Hedley - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B07GRGQZ9V?trackAsin=B07GRG6R7L&ref=dm_sh_5c48-c788-e84f-93fb-715b9

Bellator - Invincible by Pat Benetar - https://music.amazon.com/albums/B000TDG9N0?trackAsin=B000TDD0U0&ref=dm_sh_b980-b5b2-e336-66e4-435b1

Sorry, was getting really long, so stopped giving explanations. If you have questions on any of them, feel free to ask!

Hope you enjoy <3

#writeblr #my ocs #favorite songs #songs #music #ask answered #answered asks #writers on tumblr #writeblr connect #writeblr community

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mrcrowblargs · 7 months

Text

been a little while since I updated my BG3 log and I got lots done aaaa feeling excited and a bit sad that I'm nearing the end. I've really enjoyed this adventure.

After Cazador, took Gale to visit Mystra. Got some big news but I urged him to seek forgiveness and freedom over anything. I like that Gale is on the surface one of the good guys but he can fall into power corrupts as easily as say, Astarion.

On the hunt for the House of Grief I ran into THE WORST FUCKING QUEST EVER OH MY GODDDDDD this haunted ass house handed my ass to me over and over. I hated every inch of it.

Fashion time! It's so late in the game that you find new underwear

got one little tag on my doodle comic like "OP is in denial about the rotting teeth" and im just like I DONT SEE IT HONESTLY??? they just look yellow and like there's a of a snaggletooth.

More plot based stuff under the cut!

Wrapping up Shadowheart's quest was harder than Astarion's by virtue of TWENTY FUCKING ENEMIES I had to restart twice before the first round ended... made liberal use of Hypnotic Pattern. I didn't find it as cathartic an end as Astarion's but there was still definitely like, a release. And I love Shadowheart's last line there.

The reward was great tho. My bard now has 24 CHA baybeeeyyy

time to rescue Lae'zel (she was kidnapped before Cazador) and OH SHIT THATS THE SKULL FROM THE MAIN MENU SCREEN??? AAAA The Baahlists are a bitch and a half with all their murder status effects and I was SO GLAD I respecced Karlach into Barbarian 8 / Thief 4 for that extra cunning action when the "defeat this guy before he casts Power Word Kill at you" fight came up. What a fucking mess that was.

Fighting Orin was easier... I was not expecting her to transform into a big dumb monster honestly! I expected she would be teleporting around or use some shapeshift abiltiy to be all annoying but it was a really straight forward fight.

Oh, aaaaaannnd I did not fight Sarevok, so that was another Weird Ritual to inspire my tav. He's now an unholy assassin and I'm sure Astarion must appreciate the smell of being absolutely soaked in blood. I don't feel too bad about killing Valeria because she seemed like a terrible detective though I did have karlach skip her turns in the fight because I couldn't imagine her being for it. Like it's just pathetic.

Took Astarion to the drow twin courtesans... tbh I appreciate the game showing like, yes he is healing and doing better but some things you just don't get over right away. But I also want to get the spray bottle out like dude!!! don't force yourself!!!

I used a growth elixir on Karlach for the Orin fight which didn't use up that many character resources and the elixir lasted all day so... directly to the House of Hope with Karlarge it was!

Bit of a visual glitch because it reappeared later but it was nice to see Aldrich without the raccoon eyes and veins again. Just went around sitting on things in Raphael's house.

AND THEN UH???? UHH??? This supremely awkward scene with Raphael's personal incubus who looks exactly like him??? I didn't wanna start a fight because I thought Raph himself might show up but I could not pass the fucking Con check afgkdd

"you can have my body but not my soul" AGSFKHDDS???? I'm jelly tho I wish I had these eyes (but more purple) for Aldrich

Reloading and fighting the incubus was absolutely worth it for this Speak With Dead bit. the answer: he bottoms exclusively.

AND THEN THE FIGHT WITH THE BIG DEVIL HIMSELF!!!! I was already amazed when vocals dropped into the fight music BUT THEN HE WAS SIGNING HIS OWN BATTLE MUSIC???? It absolutely slapped. Amazing fight. I had Hope with me and convinced Yurlgirldsbfjs whatever his name is to join which greatly reduced the chaos. The only criticism I have is that it was a big of a slog getting Raphael down from 666 HP. but damn what a great loot payoff!

Getting near the end now. Of outstanding quests I have now, I gotta pass the hammer off to Voss, find/recruit Minsc, see if anything else is in the sewers, then sabotague the Steel Watch factory, infiltrate the Iron Throne, and confront Gortash. Then we'll see how it goes for the finale.

I'm still kinda worried what it will mean for my Tav going partially illithid and also aiming for freeing Orpheus. Seems like freedom really rides on the guy cooperating with us.

#crowbar plays bg3 #aldiirn bg3

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headcanonsandmore · 10 months

Text

‘Murder On The Dancefloor’, Chapter Five

Summary: After the sudden appearance of the culprit once again, the investigation reveals more and more confusing secrets. Just what is happening at the resort? And what is the culprit actually after?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Read on AO3.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘What the devil has happened here?’

Tegan and Nyssa turned.

Crudgeonleigh was stood in the doorway, looking shocked. Tapper and Alexson were stood behind him, both with similar expressions.

‘Good grief!’ exclaimed Alexson, looking around piles of clothing and jewellery on the floor. ‘Someone’s had a rummage through this and no mistake!’

‘Someone was looking for something,’ Swoosh said, wiping exhaustion from her eye with a heavy sigh. ‘Although, whatever it is, they didn’t seem to find it; nothing seems to be missing.’

‘But… look, see here!’ Crudgeonleigh said, brandishing a figure at Tegan and Nyssa. ‘Ever since you two showed up, there’s been nothing but disaster and mayhem around here. I’d quite like to know what you’ve actually been able to discover since you-’

The man stopped talking, as Tegan turned her full ire on him. Presumably, the anger present in her eyes was enough to temporarily stop Crudgeonleigh’s rant.

‘Crudgeonleigh, one person is already dead and my wife almost joined them,’ Tegan said, voice icy. ‘So I suggest you start being honest with us.’

‘I-what-’

‘Now.’

Crudgeonleigh stared at her for a second, before he sank down on the edge of the bed. All the fight went out of him.

‘I… I got into gambling a few years ago,’ he said. ‘Never touched the cards before, but… well, I ended up racking up a ton of debt with various… organisations. I kept paying them back by winning more money, but then I’d waste everything gambling and have to start all over again. I didn’t tell anyone; too worried about how they’d see me.’

Tapper, Alexson and Swoosh stared at him in shock.

‘I was… I was planning on using my shares in the hotel to completely wipe the slate clean,’ Crudgeonleigh continued. ‘No more gambling; I’ve put the habit to bed. And… and then Frederick died…’

Crudgeonleigh’s eyes welled with tears, and he leaned forward, covering his face with his hands as he sobbed.

Alexson, looking shocked and almost at the point of tears himself, laid a hand on the other man’s shoulder.

‘We were all shocked by the murder,’ Tapper said, softly. ‘We… we want to find out who did this.’

‘Agreed,’ said Swoosh.

‘Well, at the moment, you all seem to have motives,’ Nyssa said, still looking a touch shocked from her ordeal earlier. ‘I think that, until we discover anything else, you should all confine yourselves to your rooms. Given the ransacking of Ms Swoosh’s room, I think it could be possible that the murderer is still after something, and seems to have no compunctions about potentially murdering anyone else along the way.’

‘Exactly,’ Tegan said, not removing her arm from around her wife. ‘Go to your rooms and stay there.’

Crudgeonleigh (still wiping his eyes) left, along with Alexson and Tapper. Swoosh began to clean up the mess in her room, and Tegan took that as a cue to leave the room. With her arm still around Nyssa, she led her wife out of Swoosh’s room, with Maximillian a few steps behind them. They heard Swoosh’s door click locked behind them.

Leaving Maximillian in the lift, Tegan and Nyssa returned to their room. As Tegan locked the door behind them, she let out a sigh.

Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around Nyssa, pulling her wife into a gentle hug. The Trakenite sighed softly, nuzzling into Tegan’s shoulder.

The two of them didn’t say anything. Nothing needed to be said.

‘Do any of the motives even match the murder?’ Tegan said. It was about an hour later, and the two of them had been sat quietly reading on the bed. Eventually, they had started talking about their investigation again. ‘I mean, all signs from the body indicate that the murder seems to have been accidental. None of the potential suspects seem to have actually wanted him dead.’

Nyssa nodded, brow furrowed in thought.

‘Swoosh just wanted to be out of Finchley’s life,’ Tegan continued. ‘Alexson had so much riding on the resort being a success, Crudgeonleigh was expecting to pay off his debts with his own shares and…’

‘Tapper?’

Tegan frowned.

‘I dunno,’ she said, scratching her chin absentmindedly. ‘Finchley was a bad employee when they were younger but… well, Tapper doesn’t seem to have wished him any ill feeling. I mean, he literally got given a great job and tons of benefits from Finchley; I doubt he’d want to throw that all away just for the revenge of something that happened decades prior.’

Tegan sighed, rubbing her forehead with a hand.

‘You were right, Nys; this whole thing feels like it’s missing several puzzle pieces.’

‘We’ll get there,’ Nyssa said, smiling. ‘Besides, this is our honeymoon. Let’s take our minds off the mystery for a while-’

‘Nyssa, you almost died earlier!’

‘and just go to the pool.’

Tegan gaped at her, mouth falling open at her wife’s suggestion.

‘Are… are you sure? It seems a little hypocritical to ask the board members to be cooped up, and then go off swimming.’

‘Yes, but we’re not suspects in the investigation,’ Nyssa said, with an intelligent grin. ‘And, besides, I feel like I could do with something to take my mind off things.’

‘Only if you’re sure-’

‘Tegan,’ Nyssa said, placing a hand on her wife’s top and fidgeting with the neckline. ‘Stop arguing and get your kit off.’

That got Tegan’s attention. The Australian sat upright, eyes widening in delight.

‘Well, if you say so!’ she exclaimed, happily. She grabbed her wife by the arm and pulled her upright. ‘C’mon, Nys; let’s go!’

‘By any chance,’ Nyssa said, resisting the smile pulling at her lips. ‘Does this sudden enthusiasm also have anything to do with seeing me in a swimming costume?’

A guilty blush spread across Tegan’s face, although she did not stop smiling.

‘Well…’ she said, gesturing vaguely to her wife. ‘Can you blame me?’

Nyssa chuckled, feeling her own cheeks flush a little.

‘No, because I’m looking forward to seeing you in that purple number you bought a few weeks back, in case that wasn’t obvious enough already.’

Tegan grinned.

‘But no sauciness, Tegan Jovanka-Traken,’ Nyssa said, with an attempt at a firm tone. ‘I don’t want a repeat of what happened on that deserted beach in New Zealand.’

‘In my defence, the beach was clothing-optional and you kept saying that my two-piece really showed off my-’

‘Tegan!’

The Australian let out a bark of laughter, before pecking her wife on the cheek. She then grabbed her swimming costume out of the wardrobe, and began to strip off. Nyssa stared for a moment before reluctantly turning and grabbing her own costume. Although she couldn’t resist sneaking a further peek as her wife discarded her trousers. It was their honeymoon, after all.

‘Crikey.’

Nyssa blushed, as she removed her t-shirt, placing it along with her skirt on the back of the recliner. Tegan, determined to be as flagrant as possible, was grinning from ear to ear as she stared at her wife.

‘Oh, stop it,’ Nyssa giggled. ‘Do you have to stare?’

‘Love, I’ve seen you with your kit off more times than I can count and I still get awestruck every time,’ Tegan replied. ‘And -c’mon- it’s not like I haven’t caught you ogling me on occasion.’

‘I don’t ogle you!’

‘Then why do your eyes keep dipping down from my face?’

Nyssa felt her face flush further.

‘I… you’re wearing that low-cut one, it’s not my fault if I get distracted.’

Tegan laughed.

‘Of course it isn’t,’ the Australian grinned, gazing at her wife with unmitigated adoration. ‘C’mon; you think I’m complaining?’

‘My darling, we shared a room together within a day of our first meeting; I don’t think I’ve ever seen you be disinterested about staring at me.’

‘Respectfully, of course.’

‘Of course. That’s how you knew I didn’t have that mole on my chest.’

Tegan laughed, before standing up and pressing a kiss to her wife’s cheek. She then began to remove her own t-shirt and trousers, revealing her own purple swimming costume. Dumping her clothes absentmindedly on her own recliner, the Australian stretched out, raising her arms above her head.

Nyssa grinned, biting her lower lip.

Tegan’s freckles were becoming more pronounced now that it was summer. They seemed to cover every inch of her skin.

Actually, Nyssa knew that they covered inch of her skin, and was very pleased about it. Scientific curiosity had insisted that she check, and Tegan had been very willing to help Nyssa out with it. The results had been rather exciting.

‘Flirt,’ Tegan said, giggling as she noticed her wife’s unabashed staring.

‘Normally, I’m not a hypocrite, but for you, my darling, I’ll make an exception.’

Tegan’s cheeks flushed. Grinning, she looked around.

They had both been surprised to discover that the swimming pool was not, in fact, a single swimming pool. Nyssa supposed a more accurate comparison would be to the bathhouses of Ancient Rome; there were many different smaller rooms, each with their own small pool and several recliners surrounding it. A few shower cubicles were also included, clustered up against the far wall.

Gentle lighting from above illuminated the place in a very comfortable way. It was very… calming.

‘C’mon, let’s go for a swim,’ Tegan said, squeezing Nyssa’s hand. ‘We haven’t been able to properly relax since our first day here.’

‘Our repeated private liaisons don’t qualify?’

Tegan’s flush deepened.

‘That’s different,’ she said, with another giggle. Her eyes travelled up Nyssa’s swimming costume. ‘But, speaking of that…’

‘Tegan, no,’ Nyssa interjected, feeling her own face burn. ‘This is a public place.’

Tegan pouted, before turning and plunging into the pool with a small splash.

‘Shame, really,’ Tegan said, softly as swam across, coming to a stop and then leaning against the far side of the pool, eyes half-closed. ‘We’re the only ones in here. And each pool is it’s own private space, with a lock on the door. But I suppose that-’

There was a click of the door lock, and Tegan looked up. A moment later, Nyssa’s discarded swimming costume hit the tiled floor. Tegan gave an excited squeal at the sight before her.

There was a splash of water. A moment later, Tegan found herself pushed up against the side of the pool, a hand on her shoulder and another already roaming south.

‘Not. A. Word.’

‘Well, that was wonderful.’

‘I knew you’d see the fun side of it,’ Tegan replied, smiling as she finished drying off her hair. ‘Is this gonna become a habit for us or-’

‘Shush,’ Nyssa said, but her tone was ruined by the giggle that immediately followed it. ‘We’re in our middle age; we can’t keep getting carried away like a pair of randy twenty-somethings.’

‘Shame, considering we couldn’t do that when we were randy twenty-somethings. God, can you imagine what sort of rooms that the TARDIS could have constructed if we’d asked it to-’

‘Tegan!’

‘Hey, you literally used to wear a low-cut vest top around me all the time; my brain used to go berserk.’

Nyssa felt her face flush crimson. At the time, she had never thought -never dreamed- that she was having that effect on Tegan.

‘Well, I’m sorry for causing you such frustration.’

Tegan smiled, before gently tapping her hip against her wife’s.

‘Don’t be; you’ve always been lovely. Back then, I was simply happy to be around you, love.’

The Australian pressed a gentle kiss to Nyssa’s lips.

‘How,’ Nyssa asked. ‘Can you go from making me blush to saying the sweetest things in ten seconds?’

‘Have you met me, Nys?’ Tegan said, giving a quick wink.

The two settled into companionable silence for a while, each woman thinking quietly to themselves.

‘What about the emerald?’

Nyssa turned, raising an eyebrow. Tegan was staring into space as she brushed her hair.

‘The emerald?’

‘Yeah; the one Swoosh was yelling about,’ Tegan elaborated. ‘It’s been missing since the murder. And the murderer could have been looking for it in Swoosh’s room.’

‘But then why murder Finchley at all?’

Tegan shrugged.

‘Maybe the emerald was the motive? It could be the murderer wanted to cause a distraction and then grab the emerald while everyone was looking at Finchley.’

Nyssa mused on this.

‘That is a good point. Although… remember how you said that we’re missing something about this mystery?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Maybe… maybe the planet itself could help explain it. I mean, most of the board members aren’t locals to the planet, so perhaps there lies the answer.’

‘Does the resort have a library? Maybe there’s a history of the place written down.’

‘I don’t know,’ Nyssa said. ‘But we can certainly find out.’

They entered the library. Turns out, it did exist, further down the corridor from the fencing gallery on the ground floor. It was a good size, with numerous floor-to-ceiling bookcases, showing off books of virtually every genre.

‘History… scientific history…�� Nyssa said, trailing her finger along the shelves. ‘Solar system history…’

‘Got it,’ Tegan said, before pulling the book out of the shelf. ‘Looks like it was compiled by a local historian.’

The two women sat down at a nearby table, the book opened up in front of them.

Nyssa frowned. Tegan grinned as she watched her wife read; Nyssa had a ridiculously high speed of reading, and it thrilled Tegan no end to see the Trakenite get so invested in research. It was one of the many -many- things that she loved about her wife.

‘It seems as if the tourist industry has only recently begun on Saatera,’ Nyssa said, continuing to speed-read the text. ‘Certainly only within the last few decades.’

‘Let me guess,’ Tegan said. ‘Alexson’s family is behind a lot of it, aren’t they. He mentioned that once. Or fifteen.’

‘Indeed,’ Nyssa replied. ‘There seems to have been a gradual development in local transport links, as well as increased marketing of the place to interstellar cruises.’

‘I take it they’re going for a… “esteemed” type of tourist?’

‘Well, I don’t know about esteemed,’ Nyssa replied, smirking at Tegan’s obvious euphemism. ‘But they do seem to want tourists with a lot of money. Hence why the resort is so elaborate. It’s definitely not catering to the cheaper end of the market, that’s for sure…’

Nyssa trailed off, eyes focusing on a small paragraph.

‘Strange,’ she said. ‘There seems to have been… some sort of comet hitting the planet roughly two thousand years ago, just before Saatera started becoming known to other worlds.’

‘Where did it land?’

‘This exact region,’ Nyssa said, her finger hovering over the text as she read it. ‘Yes… a few hours walk from the resort.’

‘Coincidence?’

The two women exchanged a look. No, it never was, in these circumstances. They had spent enough time poking around in mysteries whilst travelling in the TARDIS to know that random events like this were never unrelated to whatever they happened to be investigating at the time.

‘Definitely not,’ Nyssa said. ‘I suggest we go and have a look now, before the light fades.’

Tegan nodded.

Tegan pulled back her silk scarf from her head. They had reached the general area that the comet was supposed to have landed in. The two women had been walking for a good hour and a half. Luckily, they had changed into walking boots and other hard-wearing gear before they had left. Tegan had also insisted that they take along food, as well as several powerful torches in case the sun went down before they could locate the crash site.

It hadn’t been the most difficult of walks. Growing up in a rural part of Australia, Tegan was used to long treks through difficult terrain. Nyssa, as always, never seemed especially bothered by the long walk. It almost reminded Tegan of their first day spent together with just the two of them; whilst they had been searching for Castrovalva. Although that planet had been a fair bit cooler than this one.

Nyssa raised the binoculars to her face, and peered out across the valley.

‘There!’

Tegan squinted. It was a deep ravine, covered in grass. But… at the centre…

‘Yes!’ Nyssa exclaimed, pointing. ‘Look, Tegan…’

Nyssa placed the binoculars in her wife’s hands, and Tegan peered through them in the direction Nyssa had pointed out.

Inside a huge cluster of bushes and trees was the unmistakable metal of a spacecraft.

Tegan placed the binoculars back inside the rucksack, and the two women headed down the valley. It took them another ten minutes to reach the crash site.

Tegan began to hack at the bushes with a machete she had been given by Maximillian as they had left the resort. After a few moments, a sizeable hole had been created, through which the two women squeezed.

The spacecraft was rounded but in a similar shape to an egg, with small windows around the outside. A small door was on one side, with a panel next to it.

‘Looks like it’s locked.’

‘Give me a moment…’ Nyssa said, pulling out set of tools from her pocket. Within a few moments, the lock had been hacked, and the door opened.

There was the unmistakable smell stale air-conditioning. The two women nodded at each other, and climbed through the open door.

It was a small capsule inside, barely big enough to fit one person at a time. A small control panel covered most of the wall, with a seat in front of it.

On the control panel, with various wires attached to it, was a strange looking device. It was metal but encased in a sort of leather wrist-watch set-up.

‘Is that…’

‘A vortex manipulator,’ Nyssa said. ‘It looks very burnt-out, by the looks of it.’

‘How did that happen?’

Nyssa pointed at the bundles of wires dangling from the side of the spacecraft interface.

‘I think whoever was piloting this may have tried to use the manipulator to manage where they were steering.’

‘That sounds dangerous.’

‘Agreed,’ Nyssa replied, nodding. ‘No matter how good the pilot, using a vortex manipulator to steer a craft is… well, these things aren’t designed to be linked up to spacecraft. I think the Doctor once referred to it as “cheap and nasty time/space travel”. If the TARDIS is a sports car racing down the mountain, this thing is more like throwing yourself off the mountain with a blanket as a parachute.’

Tegan stared around the craft.

‘Looks like the whole thing’s been preserved. The crater outside has been reclaimed by the plants, but the spacecraft looks like it only just landed.’

‘I think…’ Nyssa said, slowly. ‘That whoever left this here is planning to come back for it.’

‘But… why? The craft doesn’t work; how are they supposed to power it?’

‘It’s not the craft they want power for,’ Nyssa said, slowly. ‘It’s the vortex manipulator.’

Tegan stared down at what Nyssa had just removed from the manipulator. The Trakenite placed it on the floor. It was carved jaggedly and seemed to have been tainted by battery acid years before.

An emerald.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading, everyone; hope you enjoyed the chapter!

I swear, if Tegan and Nyssa had their way, this fic would be a slightly-saucy rom-com with an investigation happening in the background 🤣😂

#'murder on the dancefloor'#doctor who fanfiction #tegan/nyssa #nyssa/tegan #tw: murder #tegan x nyssa #nyssa x tegan #indestructible #heathrow scientific #tyssa #tegan jovanka #nyssa #nyssa of traken #doctor who

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lananiscorner · 2 years

Text

The Sandman rewatch - Calliope

So I like to do this thing where, if I didn’t consider a show a complete waste of time and if it does have an actual arc spanning the season, I watch the season twice–once as a binge watch and then once more episode by episode, because it helps me notice things I didn’t notice at first, especially in cases like this where I’m almost entirely unfamiliar with the source material.

I apologize that the second part of this episode is coming so late—I got a new PC and had to set everything up again properly, so I didn’t have time for it until now.

Trigger warnings: mentions of sexual abuse and rape beneath the cut.

Also, lots of swearing because this one… is kind of personal for me.

Well, we’re starting off with a statement that’s very relatable to any writer: the character comes first.

Wow, way to crush the soon-to-be doctor’s writing dreams, Richard.

Yeah, this Erasmus Fry guy is not suspicious and unlikable from the start AT ALL.

Ok, so Erasmus desperately wants a bezoar for it’s detoxing qualities. Can I infer that he’ll be dead soon? Good.

So not only does this old bastard keep a muse locked up against her will—he keeps her locked up in a dusty old storage room. The actual fuck.

Ah, the old “I’ll set you free before I die” promise. Yeah, I don’t think that one’s ever been upheld by anyone.

She is literally |this| close to decking him in the face. I wish she had, but there’s probably some kind of spell preventing her too.

And we can add “victim-blaming coward” to the list of descriptors for her captor. Fuck you, Erasmus Fry.

“But I must say I found force most efficacious.” Holy. Kangaroo. On. A. Pogostick!

Alright, so actual props to the writing team for saying “rape” without saying “rape”, but what the actual fuck… Erasmus deserves whatever nastiness is coming to him.

Oh, and we’re using the “she’s not human, so it’s ok” defense? Fuck you, Erasmus Fry.

That little smirk on Calliope’s face though, when he says that all his work is out of print now. We stan.

“Little cow”? What the actual hell…

Wow, this guy even negs his fellow writer. What a specimen.

Okay, Richard, this is where you say “you know what, I don’t like this, you can go”.

But nooo, instead we’re installing a second lock on the door! That will surely inspire trust and collaboration!

“Do you think you could… help me first?” Dude, you literally just took slave ownership of an immortal being AND INSTALLED A SECOND LOCK ON HER DOOR in a clear sign of your lack of trustworthiness, what the fuck do you think? Do you even have a brain?

Calliope’s not buying it. Good for her.

Blinking Cursor Of The Empty Page is honestly the most relatable character in this so far.

Yeah dude, don’t open Reddit, Twitter or Insta when you’re trying to write. That way lies the devil of distraction. You should know better.

Okay, so, I can’t believe I am writing this, but I will give him credit for making an ATTEMPT at the entire wooing thing at least. Should he have asked her first what “wooing” exactly means for a muse? Yes. But an attempt was made. He gets a D for effort.

“An artist prays to the muses. He offers vows of service and devotion to the goddesses in exchange for divine inspiration.” Memo to myself: build small altar to Calliope.

“You gave Erasmus Fry what he wanted.” DUDE… Which fucking part of of the word “force” do you not understand??

Dude… your lack of creativity and poor financial choices are NOT comparable to decades of captivity and sexual abuse. Get your head out of your fucking arse.

Daaaamn, Calliope all but saying “yeah, I hear you and I’ll help you, just free me”. She is way too good for this dude. I would have been like “fuck off back to your empty pages” already.

And fuck you too, Richard Madoc.

Once again, props to the writer and director for making very clear what’s happening without being gratuitous about it—that fade to black, the sound of the lock, Richard’s half-buttoned shirt and the scratch on his cheek are really all we need.

I love that they are referencing the 3 OG muses here in Calliope’s prayer (meditation, remembrance and song). They are so much less known than the 9 Calliope belongs to.

Oh hey, it’s the fates! Please don’t give her some cryptic bs advice that won’t help her at all. She’s already dealing with enough shit.

Alright, so I know that this exposition dialogue about Calliope’s relationship with Dream is supposed to be very tragic, but imo the real tragedy here is that Calliope and Morpheus had a son and named him… Orpheus. You are a literal muse and the king of dreams! You have literally endless inspiration and THAT is what you name your child? I can’t.

Well, at least the fates were not being super cryptic or vague this time.

“I think it probably speaks to the author’s pretension.” YOOOOOO! Go off, random lady!

“I do tend to regard myself as a feminist writer.” FUCK YOU, RICHARD MADOC!

Okay, but this line hits pretty hard upon rewatch, because in my current active franchise (FE3H), we literally just witnessed two users getting bullied off social media by a bunch of Reddit dudes who use their “defense of a feminist icon character” as a moral shield, painting themselves as feminists while harassing RL people, some of whom are women. Like, this is just so fucking vile.

“From the women in my life.” That’s a very nice way of putting “from the woman I am locking up and raping in the room upstairs”, Richard Madoc. God, I wanna strangle him and Erasmus.

And of course he’s now four successful novels into his career and STILL not letting her go.

“Can you not allow yourself to enjoy our success?” Oh, you mean “can you not allow yourself to enjoy me getting rich off of literally raping you for inspiration?” What a pretentious fucking prick.

That tiny smile of hers when she sees that the sleeping sickness is over and puts 1 and 2 together. <3

Ooh, and it’s the melody of the Dreaming making its comeback as she goes downstairs to look for pen and paper! <3

Bwahahaha, he said the name for her. Congrats, Richard, you just fucked yourself.

Richard about Erasmus: “He was… very kind.” As kind as a chain saw to the nuts, you mean.

Ahahaha, he poisoned himself! Serves him right, old bastard. Good fucking riddance, Erasmus Fry!

Alright, now this scene with Calliope and Dream… this fucking scene. There is so much goodness here, especially if you have personal experience with being an SA survivor, which I unfortunately do, so here’s a numbered list before I start screaming into the void:

Note how Dream, who was imprisoned for longer than Calliope, lost his beloved raven, and then had to deal with Joanna, Lucifer, John Dee, the Corinthian and a fucking Vortex to get any semblance of normalcy back into his life, instantly, and without hesitation, states that he thinks that what Calliope went through was worse. It is SO freaking common for men to not take SA seriously, so to hear someone who’s canonically a bit of an insensitive prick who went through plenty of trauma himself STILL acknowledge it for the absolute fate worse than death that it is is just so… validating? Tearjerkingly heartwarming?

“Comparing our suffering only compounds it.” What a raw line from Calliope! No, we’re not here to play Suffering Olympics. We both went through awful shit. The best we can do is try to move on.

Calliope, who said that she despises Dream, still acknowledging that what he went through was awful and she’s glad he’s free (even though she literally is not, right now). No jealousy, just relief. What a queen.

Calliope to Richard: Please free me? Richard: lol nope. Calliope to Dream: Please inspire him to free me? Dream: All that and more. -- Absolute legend.

Calliope pointing out that no punishment could be enough—and you can see in Dream’s face that she’s got a point that he hadn’t considered, because no matter how awful he thinks Richard treated her, at the end of the day, he knows nothing of her pain, her loss, and vengeance will not bring back what he took from her. I wonder if he thought back to his conversation with Death in that moment—about how all he had been able to think about during his own imprisonment was vengeance, but when he finally got it, it wasn’t satisfying at all.

Calliope: Why? Because I was once yours? Dream: Because he hurt you. -- Do I have to explain this one? Like, honestly, one of the worst things about SA is how demeaned and devalued it can make a person feel, and I could only imagine how sharply Calliope must have felt that, given that neither Erasmus nor Richard considered her worthy of being treated with humanity simply because she is more than human, and here is Dream saying “you are enough—I don’t need a selfish reason to want to hurt the bastard—he hurt YOU, and that’s more than enough.” ;_;

Dream asking PERMISSION from Calliope to let him help her. She is the one who called for him, so one could say consent is implied, but after 60 years of her consent being denied, Dream realizes “implied” no longer cuts it and instead asks for her EXPLICIT consent. With a “please” on top! I’m not sure we’ve even heard him use that word in any other episode. Absolute legend.

That look of ice cold murder when she asks him what he’ll do to Richard. CHILLS!!!

And one final word in this scene: note how Dream does not touch Calliope. They were married once. They had a kid. He’s made it clear he still has feelings for her even though it’s been thousands of years and she said she never wanted to see him again… but he does not touch her. It’s such a small detail, but from the perspective of an SA survivor, that’s HUGE.

I just love every second of this entire fucking scene. Brb, gotta find and murder whoever is cutting onions here.

“Be quiet.” Jesus… Tom Sturridge does “unnervingly polite, tranquil fury” so fucking well!

“I will not call any HUMAN agency.” And that is when it probably dawned on Richard that he had fucked up.

The way Dream rose without blinking when Richard tried to weasel his way out of this—perfection! The sheer disgust with which he spits the word “defiled” (for anyone who hadn’t put 1 and 2 together yet)--sublime!

Dream here with the classical punishments—like, this is the kind of stuff you’d legit see in ancient Greek myth. Oh, you wanna see the future? I’ll let you see the future, but I’ll also make sure no-one will ever believe you. You want ideas? I’ll give you too many to handle.

Calliope’s smile when Richard asks her if she’s giving him nightmares now. <3

That moment when he sees Dream in the audience—perfection.

Okay, but most of his ideas are actually rubbish, which is understandable, give whose brain they are springing from, except maybe for the one of a city where the streets are paved with time. I would read that.

Imagine you’re a woman attending a reading by your favorite author and then he starts scribbling stuff on the walls in blood and talking about how he’s keeping a woman locked up in his mansion—like, at that point I’d just leave. Maybe call 911/equivalent on my way out.

And just when you think Erasmus Fry cannot get any worse since he is… you know… dead for several months at this point, we find out that the book he was particularly proud of and wanted to go back into print, was the one with the byline “She was his muse… and the slave of his lust!” FUCK THIS ASSHOLE!

Awww, Calliope’s back in her normal clothes with her traditional hairdo!

And just in case we think Dream’s thoughtfulness was a fluke, when Calliope says she’ll work to rewrite the laws she was bound by, because neither she nor her sisters had any agency in those, Dream assures her he’ll make sure to make those changes in his realm as well. Legend!

“I will not forgive what he has done, but I must forgive the man. Not for him. For me.” Translation: “I do not want to spend the rest of my eternal life feeling angry and hurt every time I think of this dude—I want him to become worm food like he deserves and let his memory fade into the sunless lands.” Kudos, Calliope.

And again, Dream being like “I don’t get it, I think you’re too nice, but it’s not about me, it’s about YOU and if that’s what you want, sure I’ll let him go”.

Meanwhile, in a nice little parallel, Richard Madoc is STILL not listening to a thing the women in his life are saying (i.e. not bothering to answer Nora’s questions).

Also, on one hand, yes, it’s very… Dream… of Dream, to stop the punishment he inflicted, but to do so in a way that’s even more punishing, but I think there’s another reason he did it too: at the end, Richard doesn’t even remember anymore who the woman he kept locked up was, which means he won’t be able to go after her and try to capture her again, he won’t be able to publicize what he did to her as some kind of vengeful, victim-blaming BS (see Erasmus wanting that one particular book to go back into print), and he won’t be able to try to go after her sisters either. He will no longer be able to reap any further benefit of the “gifts” he already took from her either, because he’s in no further condition to coordinate sequels, adaptations, interviews, whatever. Dream has made sure that Richard no longer has any avenue to hurt Calliope further or get further gains from the hurt he already inflicted.

Dream be like: okay, that was enough of an emotional roller coaster for now—the talk about our dead son will have to wait.

And at the end of it all, it is Calliope who touches him, not the other way around. ;_;

Finally, I love that we end this episode not with Richard or Dream, but with Calliope, happy and free. Perfect place to end it.

#The Sandman #Calliope #episode 11 rewatch #no RIPs this time #just trigger warnings for SA #this episode fucked me up #still love it

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judjira · 2 years

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groundskeeper

AN: so, instead of having a ramble about my apartment au and the characters, i decided to one up myself and write short drabbles on them instead ! this was pretty fun to write, and im honestly lookin forward to writing more. to those requests still in my asks im sorry huhu my brain has a mind of its own(??)

pairing: dajeong apartment au wc: 1515 (ey)

As the groundskeeper of the apartment, Jeongyeon had very big responsibilities on her shoulders.

She was in charge of checking the building’s utilities to see if they were working properly. Electricity and wiring, plumbing and pipes, that was all left to her and her trusty toolbelt. You could imagine she’d be quite important in the upkeep of an apartment building.

Unfortunately, being the groundskeeper also meant making sure the apartment was clean, a much more thankless job.

And with an apartment full of…rather unique tenants, there was always a mess to clean.

Case in point.

Jeongyeon sighed, looking over the lounge.

Broken plates and glasses were scattered around, shards of glass and porcelain littering the living area, on the floor, the coffee table, the seats. No doubt just another consequence of one of the tenants’ occasional slap fights.

There was soil littered all over the place, too, like someone had taken a bunch of dirt clumps and just thrown them around. Leaning down, she took a tentative sniff. Yeah, no, that distinct pearl-like smell meant that this was some sort of hallowed soil from some place of holy origin. Yikes.

The room smelled of salt and iron, and there were distinct clumps of salt piled in certain areas of the floor, as well as iron powder. Seriously, this stuff was dangerous, why did they even have this in the apartment? How did anyone even get this stuff without hurting themselves?

The chalk markings were also a dead give-away as to who exactly was involved in the mess. Enochian symbols lazily scrawled over the floors and neat, orderly Keys of Solomon with edges scratched out. So, Nayeon and Tzuyu were probably involved in whatever had happened here.

And then, there was the blood. The damn blood. That was probably Chaeyoung’s doing. Probably. The chances of it being Sana were close to null, considering her recent diet.

To sum it all up, broken glass, dirt, salt and iron, chalk markings, and blood.

A complete, and utter mess.

Seriously, just because the apartment had a groundskeeper, did they really think they could just make messes and get away with it?

It’s not like she had the power to shape reality or anything like that. Well…probably. She hadn’t tried that yet.

Well, she was planning on cleaning this area of the apartment sooner or later, she’d just rather it didn’t happen so soon.

Stepping forward, Jeongyeon suddenly stilled. Her body froze up, seizing up in place, before she relaxed.

Then, she looked up at the ceiling. And promptly sighed.

“Are you kidding me?”

The door behind her opened.

“Jeongie? You here?”

The sound of her voice immediately made Jeongyeon cringe.

“Oh…hey there, Dahyun.”

Dahyun, the landlord of the apartment, peeked her head through the door, eyes shining in curiosity. In most situations, Jeongyeon would have scurried on over to the girl, wrapped her up in the biggest hug, and kissed her plenty of times all over her face until she was shoved away. In the current situation, though, she found herself uncapable of doing so, considering the symbols on the ceiling.

She caught sight of the lounge and winced.

“Yeesh. What happened here?”

Of all people to witness this mess, of course, it’d be Dahyun. What kind of groundskeeper was she, to allow this to happen?

“Sorry, Dahyun. The girls made a mess again. I think they had an argument. You know them.”

You’d think a few months of living together would really bring people together, especially since they were dating. But then again, normal logic never really applied to a devil and an angel.

“Oh, okay…do you have this handled? Or do you need help?”

The drooping of Dahyun’s eyes already told Jeongyeon all she needed to know. She’d probably just gotten home, straight from her classes, and wanted to check in on Jeongyeon. As much as she wanted the help, she really couldn’t impose on Dahyun. Except she probably needed to.

“Actually, I kinda do.”

She directed Dahyun’s attention up to the chalk symbols on the ceiling of the lounge, and Dahyun followed her gaze.

“Oh. An angel trap?”

Jeongyeon nodded sullenly, feeling not at all holy under the Enochian symbols written in chalk to trap angelic beings. And unfortunately, Jeongyeon was one of them.

“Okay, I’ll get the step ladder. You sit still for a second, okay?”

Jeongyeon sighs.

“Not like I can go anywhere.”

The nature of angel traps made it so that any angel or celestial being, really, that stepped into its boundaries were physically restrained, incapable of moving outside of the sigils and incapable of using their wings. Just one of those nuisances she had to deal with, with her blood.

A few minutes later, Dahyun was atop the step ladder, scrubbing at the chalk on the ceiling.

“I didn’t think these things affected you, honestly.”

Jeongyeon chuckled, seated on the floor, cross-legged and waiting for Dahyun to finish her work. It amazed Jeongyeon, really, how easily Dahyun took to the role of landlord. She could confidently say that Dahyun was one of the most in-tune landlords and caretakers the apartment had ever seen.

“What can I say, I’m special.”

She joked, and from where she is on the floor, she could see Dahyun roll her eyes good-naturedly.

“Well, Ms. Special. Maybe you can tell me how you got stuck in this trap anyway.”

Jeongyeon sighed, propping her head up onto her hand. How did she get here anyway?

“Well, Mina told me that our resident angel and devil had made a mess in our lounge after one of their little arguments. So, I come in here to clean the place up, and lo and behold, angel trap on the ceiling.”

Seriously, why couldn’t they all just get along? Jeongyeon had no issues letting either of them into the apartment, and technically, they were supposed to be her enemies. Not that Jeongyeon viewed them that way, that was all just Old Testament talk.

“Hm. This chalk work kind of looks like Chaeyoung’s doing, though.”

That elicited a grumble from the groundskeeper.

“Why am I not surprised?”

Dahyun giggled, and in an instant, Jeongyeon could feel her body physically loosen, the sigils on the ceiling being erased. She stood up, stretching her arms and grinning up at the girl.

“Thanks, Dahyun. Now, come down here and give me a hug.”

She obliged, smile on her face as she stepped down from the stepladder to come into Jeongyeon’s outstretched arms, the two of them sighing in contentment at the touch.

There was something about Dahyun that just calmed Jeongyeon down. It could have been a multiple of things really.

Maybe it was the fact that Dahyun always had such a serene air to her, calm and inviting. Maybe it was the fact that she was always willing to help her and the other tenants out, no matter what the problem was. Maybe it was the fact that Dahyun, just a normal, run-of-the-mill mortal human, had attracted the attention of several creatures that had no place in the modern world.

Like Jeongyeon.

“Some fallen angel you are, to get caught in such a simple trap like this.”

Fallen angel. What an odd term to use. The word fallen had negative connotations to it, Jeongyeon knew, but to her, it always meant something more than that.

The freedom to soar through the earth’s skies and marvel at its inherent beauties. The wonder of exploring the world, being open to new revelations and unfamiliar discoveries. The curiosity to to seek out mysteries and riddles, their answers all the more enticing.

To her, that was what being fallen meant.

And in Dahyun’s arms, she couldn’t think of anything more apt to describe the landlord.

“Oh, I’ve fallen alright. Fallen for you.”

A laugh escaped her lips at the wrinkle of disgust that ran through Dahyun’s face.

“Yuck.”

“You know you love it.”

“Unfortunately.”

Jeongyeon sighed once more, this time out of satisfaction than exasperation. She pressed her lips to Dahyun’s forehead, treasuring the touch of her pale skin and the way she leaned into the kiss.

“Alright, go to your room, love, I’ll take care of the rest of this.”

Dahyun leaned back, eyebags evident from this close as she blinked blearily up at Jeongyeon.

“Are you sure? I can help you if you need it.”

Jeongyeon resisted the urge to absolutely glomp over the girl for her concern.

“I’m sure. Go on. I’ll join you in your nap when I’m done here.”

The promise of company in her late afternoon nap was enough for Dahyun to smile wearily, pressing her forehead into Jeongyeon’s shoulder once more.

“Be quick, okay?”

“Of course, love. I’ll be there in a heartbeat.”

Dahyun pulled away, flashing Jeongyeon one of those devastatingly earth-shattering smiles that Jeongyeon still had a hard time getting used to. As she left, Jeongyeon looked back at the mess caused by her fellow tenants.

A groundskeeper’s work was never done, she supposed, as she folded up her sleeves, snapped a broom and dustpan into existence, and began to clean.

#apartment au #drabble #dajeong #dahyun x jeongyeon #twice fic #twice fanfic

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sovengardeswag · 1 year

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The Pines Files

After the events of Weirdmaggeddon, Dipper and Mabel are contacted by the SCP foundation and join the ranks. The adventure never ended, it just took a different turn. And now, years later, they're back to Gravity Falls, aka SCP-████. And it is up to them to investigate the ever-growing mystery behind the town and protect the most dangerous and important SCPs there are and face their past.

Chapter One: Deal With The Devil

Dr. Mason Pines stared at himself in the mirror, hands gripping the sink, and wondered what his life had become. Sure, he knew what he’d signed up for, but still. He hated this. The near constant testing, the things that went on in this place. The dark circles under his eyes were as bad as they had ever been, and he was pretty sure he had gray hairs. Working where he did could do that to a guy. Mason let the water drip from his face before getting some paper towels and drying himself off, leaving his birthmark exposed. It felt like just yesterday he was a little kid.

He and Mabel had only been thirteen when they’d been approached. It was any other September day. The air was turning colder, they had started to settle into their school routine, and they were walking home together as they always had. He was listening to her talk all about her art class, where she had drawn some bits of a fun dream she had, but made a few modifications of course. “Those colors aren’t really possible in pencil, ya know! So I made up for it by putting on lots of glitters! Ms. Walker said I had a lot of imagination! But she also told me I’ll probably have to tone it down for the style units. I don’t think I’ll need to though.”

He’d been nodding along as she talked, writing down a little bit in his pocket journal. He was listening of course, but he also needed to keep track of all of his own little discoveries and theories. However, he was quickly pulled out of both Mabel’s retelling of events and his writings when they turned a corner. Right there, at their house, was a black van, “Mabel. Mabel!” He tugged on her sweater sleeve a little bit.

“I wonder if I should start drawing-” she stopped dead when he pulled on her sleeves and brought her attention to that van. Her eyes widened as she looked at Dipper, “I thought Great Uncle Ford wiped all those government guys’ memories with the mind eraser thingy.”

Dipper gripped the straps of his backpack, telling Mabel, “Maybe it’s not them. Maybe Mom and Dad are working on with some clients.” But even back then, he knew that was just something he said to comfort his sister. “Come on, let’s just head inside. It’s not like we can avoid them forever.”

And so they walked into their house, Dipper calling out, “Mom? Dad? You guys home?” before the two dropped their backpacks and headed into the living room. And their parents were certainly there, but they weren’t the only ones. Sitting on the couch, drinking coffee, were two people. Both were men, one was wearing a suit, sunglasses, and an earpiece. The other was dressed in a sweater and khakis, staring at Waddles as the pot-bellied pig sniffed him.

Their mother waved them over, telling them, “Mabel, Dipper, your father and I were just talking about you and your great uncles to Agent Young and Dr. Gordon. About what happened last summer. They wanted to talk to you.” Her eyes darted between her children and the armed agent taking a sip of his coffee.

Before either twin could answer, Dr. Gordon was up, approaching the two children with a flashlight, their father telling him, “Hey wait! We told you our children aren’t anomalies or whatever! They’re just kids!”

As Dr. Gordon shined a light in Dipper’s ear, he retorted with, “Yes, I know what you said. But you never know with twins! Especially not after that incident.” He then turned off the flashlight and inspected Mabel’s eyes, holding one of them open. “Did you have any sugar today Miss Pines?”

“Y-yeah! I mean no! I mean- Why do you wanna know?” The poor girl was sweating already.

Dr. Grant, completely ignoring her terror, told her, “So that’s a yes.” He went to sit back down, the agent with him nodding towards the other couch. “Let’s get to business then. Have a seat. Your parents filled us in on the situation, but we want to hear from you two.”

“And what situation would that be, exactly?” Dipper was clenching and unclenching his fists. Not sure if he should run away or be honest as he headed onto the couch and sat down, Mabel fidgeting with her hands a little bit as she joined him.

The agent spoke this time, telling the two, “Well, our biggest concern is how you managed to stop an apocalypse-level threat at only twelve years old. And the other is the location of Stanford and Stanely Pines. We want all the details of what happened.”

Dipper, having learned to not trust government agents, asked, “Depends, why do you want to know? And who are you guys anyway?” Mabel was beckoning Waddles over, not wanting him too close to Dr. Gordon.

Agent Young put his coffee down on the table and looked directly at Dipper, telling him, “Smart kid, making sure you know who you’re dealing with. We’re not government if that’s what you’re wondering. We’re from an independent organization that tracks, studies, and contains anomalies. Your uncle, or, I suppose, uncles, have been on our radar for a long long time. And that incident you stopped, well, you wouldn’t expect that kind of work from civilians, let alone children. Minimal casualties, clean termination. Our question is how two preteens and a couple of madmen did that.”

Mabel spoke up, asking, “How do we know you’re not gonna take us to jail after this?”

Dr. Gordon told the kids, “You have our word. Also, Agent Young can give you his handcuffs.”

“What?”

“Just go with it, Young.”

Agent Young hesitated, but he handed his cuffs over to Mabel, who held onto them as if her life depended on it. “Ok, so, Bill possessed Blendin and told me he could make a time bubble to make summer last longer because me and Dipper had a fight and I didn’t wanna grow up so I gave him a weird globe thing that turned out to be a space rift so Dipper and our friends Wendy and Soos had to get me out of a prison Bill put me in and I realized growing up wouldn’t be so bad so we went back to the shack and met up with Grunkle Stan and some of our other friends and made the shack into a big mecha and went to attack Bill and save Great Uncle Ford though that didn’t stop him we got into his pyramid anyways and managed to distract him and Grunkle Stan and Ford came up with the idea to switch places cause they’re identical twins and Bill wouldn’t be able to tell the difference and once Bill went into Grunkle Stan’s mind Great Uncle Ford wiped his mind and that killed Bill and we had to fix Grunkle Stan’s memories and now they’re on a boat but we don’t know where!”

The agent and the scientist both blinked, Mabel finally taking a breath and still gripping those handcuffs with all the strength in her little hands. Agent Young looked to Dipper and asked, “Mind filling in the gaps, son?”

Dipper considered lying, he considered refusing to elaborate. He really did. But something told him they’d just find out. They found out where his family lived, they had known about Stan and Ford. How did he know that they wouldn’t just already know about what had happened? So, he told the truth, about Bill, Blendin, everything. He watched them nod along and his parents cringe at the messier details. He knew that they thought it was all imagination on Mabel’s end. He’d hoped it would stay like that.

Dr. Gordon had been writing this down the whole time and when Dipper was done, he closed his notebook. “That should finish up the incident report. Now, onto business. The big reason we’re here is that you managed to take down the threat. We had operatives in Gravity Falls at the time, and yet, you fixed it. And, as Young said, there weren’t any civilian casualties, aside from your uncle’s memories. However, your uncles are still responsible for all this. In normal circumstances, we’d be interrogating you for their location. However, seeing as they’ve left the site and are a minimal threat, we want to make you an offer.”

“When you kids are older, we want you to be a part of our foundation. We could use people like you on the payroll. And in exchange for your cooperation, we’d be willing to let your uncles go. We’d be willing to pay for your education on top of that, as long as it’s relevant to the foundation.”

Dipper squinted. They were offering… a job? To teenagers? “What’s the catch?”

“Smart kid. The catch is that once you take this offer, there’s no turning back. If you reject the offer or leave, we’ll have to arrest your uncles if we encounter them. We’d wipe your memory of not just us, but that whole summer. You would be completely safe, but it’ll be as if the summer never happened. And as if you never met your uncles. So, the choice is yours.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re telling me that my kids, who are thirteen, mind you, have to join your weird organization, or else you’re going to arrest our uncles? Do you know how insane that sounds? What makes you think you can blackmail them, anyway?” Dipper’s blood ran cold at that moment. He’d never heard his father swear like that before.

And then Mrs. Pines chimed in. “Alex is absolutely right, you’re not doing this to our kids! And we’re not just going to let you arrest my husband’s uncles either! He JUST got his uncle Ford back! Honestly, we should just call the police on you. I don’t care if you supposedly have authority, y-.” And then their parents went down, hitting the carpeted floor as the twins yelled out in horror, Waddles squealed. Agent Young was holding a gun.

“Relax, they’re not dead, they were hit with a sedative and amnestic. They’ll wake up and won’t remember a thing about us coming to your home.” And indeed. Their parents were still breathing. Instead of bullet holes, there were small darts. Only noticeable now that it was pointed out.

“W-why would you knock them out and make them forget?” Dipper’s voice cracked as he said it. Dr. Gordon pushed his glasses up, trying to lure Waddles out from his hiding spot under the couch.

“Simple, this isn’t their decision, it’s yours. You’re only thirteen, that much is true, but you’re also already thirteen. A lot of kids don’t get to live that long because of anomalies, like the ones you stopped. Some get to your age and end up suffering in ways you could never conceive of. Imagine what you can do when you’re eighteen, twenty-five, or thirty. The kids just like you who you’d save. Not to mention the huge favor you would be doing for your uncles. Wouldn’t it be nice to do them a favor? To save them the way they saved you?”

Mabel and Dipper looked at each other. These guys had a point. They couldn’t just let their uncles get arrested. And they certainly didn’t want to forget the summer. But, this was also a shadowy organization. Dipper knew that they were thinking the same thing. “Can we think on it a little bit? Before we make the decision?”

“Not overnight,” Young said, knowing exactly what they were thinking. “Your parents will wake up within the hour, so you have a little less than that to decide.”

To that, the twins got up from the couch, heading up to their room. Waddles came out from under the couch to follow them, though it was a tight squeeze for him. When they got to their room, Dipper set out to look for anything that looked bugged, and Mabel turned her stuffed animals away. “I don’t trust them, Dipper.”

“Yeah, neither do I! Mabel, they knocked out Mom and Dad! Honestly, how do we even know that they haven’t been poisoned?” He made sure the window was closed and checked the charge on his phone.

“Because they’d either have to kidnap us or deal with CPS?” Waddles had climbed up onto Mabel’s bed after she sat on it and she was scratching his ears.

“That’s a good point.” Dipper started to pace then, thinking over their options. “Obviously, we’re not gonna let them arrest Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford. But we can’t just do what they want! They’re weirdos!”

“Total weirdos.” "

But at the same time, that was the best summer of our lives! We can’t just forget that!” Mabel nodded along, watching Dipper pace ever more fretfully. “It’s like it’s a trap! Work for someplace we don’t even know about or let them ruin our lives!”

Mabel wasn’t sitting idly by as she pet Waddles, of course. As she watched the pig wiggle happily, she was having her own thoughts on the matter. Dipper’s verbalizations laying it out for her. “Maybe we can ask them to do stuff for us? Make sure they’re not evil?”

“You mean we should negotiate?” Dipper stopped his pacing and looked over at her. “

Yeah!” She slipped off her bed and headed to her drawer, pulling out some pink, strawberry-scented, lined paper and two gel pens. “We can tell them stuff we won’t do if we join them!”

“Of course! Mabel, you’re a genius!” He took a gel pen and a sheet of paper before he lay belly down on the floor. Mabel joined him, and they came up with negotiation points together.

It took 20 minutes total to think of everything they needed, and when they came downstairs, Agent Young had placed Mr. and Mrs. Pines on the couch and was currently trying to maneuver them. Probably trying to make it look like they had fallen asleep after a long day of coding and repairs. He was the one to notice that they each held a paper in their hands. “I suppose our terms weren’t enough for you?”

Dipper nodded, telling him, “We have a list of assurances, demands, that sort of thing. Just to make sure that we’re not gonna get black bagged and murdered by some weird agents. For all we know, your organization isn’t even real.”

Agent Young raised an eyebrow. “You’re not exactly in a position to make demands kid.”

“You’re the one who said we were valuable,” Dipper retorted. “And that means you want us working for you when we grow up more than you want to arrest our uncles.”

“He’s got you there,” Dr. Gordon pointed out. He was still sitting around. Not wanting to help his colleague with the heavy lifting. “Lay it on us kids.”

“First of all, we want to know exactly what you guys do and who you work for. We don’t even know who you are. For all we know, this is a trap from those government agents getting their memories back.” He passes his paper to Agent Young.

“And we want a promise that if we say no, you won’t get rid of our memories of our grunkles or the summer. We know you can get rid of only some memories. You can’t take the best summer of our lives, and it’s not like EVERYTHING that summer was weird,” Mabel added as she passed her own list of demands to Dr. Gordon. Their grunkles would at least appreciate knowing someone remembered them, especially after all that time they were ignored.

As the agent and the doctor looked over the negotiation points, they both knew the kids had a point. Dipper could see it in their faces. Agent Young told them, “We’re from the SCP foundation. It stands for Secure, Contain, Protect. We track down anomalies and capture them, keeping them from harming the populace. We work with governments but not for any government. We are beholden to no law enforcement agency. Essentially, we’re humanity’s best defense against the supernatural.” Dipper and Mabel listened to that explanation and it did not calm them down. Some weird secret foundation? A bad time all around. But they were smart kids. They kept quiet during the explanation.

“Alright then, let’s get down to business then, you’ll find our negotiation points are very clear.”

Both agent and Dr. looked at the lists properly and made the same face of confusion. “The right to maintain a supernatural Youtube channel?”

“No uniforms?”

“What kind of demands are these?”

“Simple ones. You guys are obviously a secret organization. You’re going to want to control our free time to make sure we don’t spill everything. I want assurance that you won’t shut me down if I do ghost hunting in my free time.”

“And I don’t wanna wear a uniform! I’ve never worn one before and I’m not gonna start just cause I’m working for a secret monster jail!” Gordon and Young thought for a moment.

“You can have your YouTube, but it’s gotta be fake or just things that the Foundation would never bother with.”

“The best I can do is to let you be able to customize your armor if you join the Mobile Task Force. Stickers, decals, that sort of thing.”

“And our summer?” Dipper crossed his arms.

“You’d really let your great uncles get arrested after making all these demands?”

“No, we just want to know that you won’t make us forget our own family if it turns out you're, like, super evil or something.”

The agent and the doctor looked at each other, clearly thinking the same thing as they looked back at the twins. “We can do this. The terms just need to be looked at by higher-ups.”

The twins nodded, those conditions were amenable. And after going over the rest of the negotiation points, it was settled.

“We’ll see you again in five years. Your parents will wake up and won’t remember a thing about us. I expect that you’ll want to tell your uncles, but I recommend that you avoid doing that. We don’t want those two on us.” And with that, both agent and doctor left, and the fates of the two children had been sealed. Because that’s what they had been, children.

Did they save the world? Sure they had, and now they had done it multiple times. But who makes two kids join an organization like this? Who threatens two kids into compliance like this? And then, there was a knock at the door.

“Dr. Pines, come back. The test next test is about to start.”

Mason groaned, and he grabbed a paper towel to dry his face. “Right, right.” And then, he left the bathroom. “Has the D-class been given 2107 yet?”

“Yes, he’s been given the variant.”

“Alright, let’s go then.” Just what he needed, to watch a man be haunted by category-10 ghosts that came from a can.

As he walked into the testing room and picked up his clipboard, Mason couldn’t help but sigh, his supervisor telling him, “Don’t be like that Pines, you’ve dealt with ghosts before.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he approached the two-way glass, watching as the D-class just sort of sat there. The diet ghost hasn’t set in yet it seemed. He wondered what took so long to test this new variant though. A “classic” flavor was bound to be stronger based on non-anomalous soda trends.

And then, it started, the guy got up and started looking around in confusion. Another scientist stated out loud for the recording, “15 minutes in, the subject has started to experience auditory hallucinations.”

The poor guy started to pace around, getting up from his chair and pacing, telling the ghost that was haunting him, “Shut up! Shut up!”

“The subject has started to show signs of distress, pacing, trying to make the voices stop.” Mason wondered where this D-class had come from. Was he a murderer? A political prisoner? He wrote down that the guy was getting scared.

And then, the real effects started to set in. The nearby video feed started to go out and the recording was starting to break, they were reliant on the two-way mirror now. “Electronics are now going out. The ghost is now affecting the subject’s surroundings.”

Did they really have to go to 270ml so fast? They had barely gotten the last guy out of the room by the time they got this guy in. And then, it started. The walls started to drip something before the flow got stronger and stronger. It was red. The guy screamed.

“The testing area has started to release a red liquid, tests will be run after the procedure is finished.”

Mason wrote down that the walls were bleeding. There was no way that wasn’t blood. This wasn’t a horror movie; that wasn’t red corn syrup. It certainly didn’t help that despite the lack of a microphone and the soundproofing, he could now hear the ghosts chanting, “Murderer, murderer, murderer!” He wrote that down. “The subject is now bleeding! I repeat the subject is now bleeding!”

From his eyes specifically, the man screamed in pain before he started to cough up blood as well. Guards began to move towards the door, knowing what was about to happen. Mason headed toward the drawer and got the ipecac. "Doctor Pines, what are you doing?"

The room was starting to look like The Shining. Blood was all over the floor from all walls. He strode right in with the agents, almost slipping on the floor as he went up to the D-class. “Come on, man, you’ve gotta take this.” He uncapped the syrup and tried to offer it to the D-class. But it was no use, as Mason tried to pour the liquid into the D-class's mouth, he just coughed up more blood, some even got on his face. There was no way they would be able to get the diet ghost out of his system. All they could do was watch, the agents taking out their mirrors in case they needed to catch the ghosts. But they found that when the D-class stopped coughing and his eyes stopped dripping, the walls stopped bleeding; the chant of “murderer,” stopped.

“The subject has expired, cause of death, blood loss. Take the day everyone.” Mason just knelt there for a bit before getting up, the body being dragged away. And to think he was having a bad day before this. He tried to wipe his face but just found that he smeared more blood on himself. Great.

He heard footsteps from behind as he got up, and heard his supervisor’s voice “Dr. Pines, you need to report to decontamination. D-57351 was due for his monthly blood test.” On top of the ghostly blood.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll go do that. Just give me a minute.” He turned to look at his supervisor. A short woman in her 50’s. Despite her height, she always had an air of intimidation to her.

“There was nothing you could have done. You know that right?”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just a lot. Didn’t expect to see a guy bleed out through his eyes and mouth.”

“Yes, well, you heard the ghosts. He wasn’t exactly a good person, don’t beat yourself over it.” She patted his shoulder, and he had to resist the urge to not let her touch him. At least he could go ahead and get clean before going home. Just as he was about to clock out though, there was a call over the Speakers. “Dr. Pines, report to Dr. Casper’s office. I repeat, report to Dr. Casper’s office.” He groaned and headed straight to there anyways.

Dr. Casper was a no-nonsense kind of woman, despite being head of spectral anomalies with a name like hers. Mason sometimes wondered if she got into ghosts because of her name or if it was a coincidence. She stopped her writing when he came in, her Newton’s cradle going clack clack clack on her desk. “Ah, Dr. Pines, you made it. Please, sit.” She gestured to one of the chairs.

As Mason sat down, he asked, “Is this about the incident with the test? I just followed the procedure. I thought he’d be able to drink the syrup, honest.” It wasn’t his fault the poor guy choked so much. “He would have expelled the diet ghost if it wasn’t for the choking-”

She raises her hand, telling him, “You’re not in trouble for that. We may not be short of D-class, but that’s no way for anyone to go. You did what procedure says you should and just couldn’t get it to work, that’s all. No, you’re here because I have an assignment for you.”

“An assignment?”

Dr. Casper nodded, telling him, “Yes. You see, I think you would benefit from some fieldwork. In the five years you’ve worked at the foundation, you’ve shown exceptional professionalism and excellent results. And in the two years you’ve worked in my department, you’ve been extremely diligent, handling ghosts about as well as people who’ve worked here for fifteen years. However, I don’t think you’re a good fit for lab work or this department.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not demoting you. Goodness no. I want you out there in the field. And I want you to focus on living anomalies. I’ve seen you run around in those videos you make, and your first incident report shows you have the quick thinking and the instincts to do more than work in just one area. Especially with your doctorate credentials.”

“Right, so, you’re saying I need to get out there and actually look for anomalies. ”

“Not exactly,” she folded her hands on top of her desk. “Look, I’ve read your contract, I know you’re not going to leave any time soon. But I want you to succeed, not just be held hostage like a D-class. As I said, you’ve already been approved.” She reached into her files and pulled out some forms. “All you need to do is agree.”

Mason looked them over, reading very carefully. You didn’t survive long in this industry without knowing exactly what you were getting into. His eyes widened once he realized what site he was sent to. Because it wasn’t just any site, it was an entire SCP. Codename: Weirdest Town In America. “You’re sending me to Gravity Falls?”

“I’m not. I’m guessing the director thought you’d do best there.” Mason thought he was being pranked at this point. This was too good to be true. But there it was. Dr. Casper’s signature was right on the line, and Dr. Bright’s signature was right on the line that said: “Director’s signature here.” And the handwriting indicating his transfer to Gravity Falls sure wasn’t in Dr. Casper’s.

“So I just sign here right?” Dr. Casper nodded and Dipper did not hesitate to sign his name. Dr. Mason Pines, Ph.D. in anomalies. He was going home.

23-5-12-3-15-5-0-20-15-0-20-8-5-0-19-3-16-0-6-15-21-14-4-1-20-9-15-14

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#sam speaks #sam writes #sam's writing #gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #scp foundation #scp foundation fanfiction #dipper pines #mabel pines #tw blood

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