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sleeping-on-cracking-ice · 4 years

Note

heyo your imagines are amazing and i like reading them so much. i really appreciate you for writing for Alice in borderland as there isn’t a lot of content out there~ can you please write an imagine for niragi where the reader has been at the beach for quite the time and when she gets to know niragi she somehow falls for him because she sees right through him, and that he maybe starts to develop feelings for the reader too because she’s fearless and very confident. if it’s not too much trouble, could you make it a bit suggestive as well? thank you in advance~~

Of course I can! I’m not the best at writing with suggestive themes so I’ll try my best! 😅 I’m sorry but I changed the story line a little bit for it to fit more, so I hope this is still kind of what you had in mind.

Unlovable | Suguru Niragi

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Niragi (ft. Ann, Aguni, Hatter, Mira, Chishiya, Arisu, Last Boss)

Summary: Niragi finally finds you, who loves him for who he is, well, not exactly. And he gets a bit too attached.

Warnings: toxic relationship, suggestive themes, a lot of gaslighting, obsessive themes, a little bit angsty, threatening, choking, swearing, name calling

Word Count: 3.2k

*reader is female

Author’s Note: Sorry this took a while to post. I was busy for the past couple of days so it’s kinda rushed 😣

“Y/N! Come quick!”

You jolted awake as Ann burst into your room, shaking the door frame from the force. You blinked your eyes to adjust to the light, looking at her dazed.

“What?” you murmured, sitting up and out of the comfy sheets on your bed.

“The executives have called a meeting. They say it’s urgent,” she stressed, rushing up to the side of your bed and ripping the duvet off of you.

You shivered and sighed loudly in disappointment. “Why? It’s too early for this shit,” you whined, rolling back onto your side and closing your eyes again. These urgent emergency meetings have become ridiculous, always taking place in the morning when everyone’s still sleeping. You would gladly have quit having the higher place at The Beach if it meant for you to have some peace and quiet.

“Now!” Ann pushed again. You groaned in annoyance and got out of bed. She seemed serious, so you didn’t want to anger her more.

You both quickly made your way to the top floor where the meeting room for the executives was located. You noticed Ann’s heavy breathing and worried expression, making you anxious as to what she thinks could have happened.

Hatter had left the night before to replenish his visa, having a big celebration as he drove off with Aguni and a few more of his men. Things had been becoming more tense as time went on. It felt wrong watching Hatter drive away so reluctantly. You offered to assist him in his game, seeing as you earned yourself a high number at The Beach from clearing many difficult games yourself. But Hatter declined, insisting that he would return to The Beach safe and sound before you knew it.

But unfortunately, he was wrong.

You and Ann rushed into the large room. You saw Arisu and Chishiya standing near the end of the table placed in the middle of the room. You strolled over to them and laid eyes on the scene before you.

There, Hatter laid dead on the table. Limbs spread out lifeless, skin pale and dead. The horrific sight made you feel sick, making you cover your mouth with your hand. The scene almost felt unreal, this shouldn’t have happened. Hatter wouldn’t be dead if you just went with him.

Ann walked over to his body to examine it, but before she even had the chance to touch the bullet wound embedded in his bare chest, Niragi barged into the room with his usual cocky and obnoxious aura filling the air like a bad smell.

“Oi, don’t touch him as you please. You dissection maniac,” he growled.

Your eyes followed him closely. Now that Hatter was gone, people like him could start dangerous trouble at the hotel. But, as long as you said something about it, you would make sure Niragi wouldn’t start any fires that he’s not willing to put out himself.

After all, you were the only person who knew his true self, and how he perceived everyone around him. It was pathetic really. In a way you took pity on him. Such a simple tactic for the brain to protect itself, become a heartless and cold monster towards others so no one could ever do the same to you again.

With Niragi, unfortunately it was hunt or be hunted.

You kept your strong gaze on him as he lifted his eyes to meet yours from across the table for a hot minute. His dark orbs glistened as they locked with yours, making the tension in the room become thicker as every second passed. He smirked in your direction before turning away.

“He was shot by a gun,” Ann stated, breaking the thick silence in the room. She looked over the small hole in his chest in fascination.

“What will happen to The Beach?” a young man asked who was standing nearby you. You stayed silent, not wanting to start anything that may end in chaos. You always had good points and valid arguments, but sometimes you knew when the best time was to bring them up. This was not it.

“I mean it’s only reasonable for the strongest to become the new leader!” Niragi exclaimed over everyone. “We need someone who can take good care of The Beach and keep order,” he yapped on, swinging his sniper rifle all around making a few people flinch when he aimed it at them.

You rolled your eyes at his behaviour. Trust him to be the most opinionated.

“I say, how about Aguni as our new leader,” he suggested, leaning forwards onto the table and watching everyone like a hawk. Aguni held no reaction, keeping his usual cold stone expression while having Niragi speak for him.

After no one reacted, all looking down to the ground to avoid Niragi’s gaze, he stood up straight and pulled a bored expression. “That’s not a good reaction,” he mocked, “Last Boss?”

You glanced over to where the hooded figure stood, watching in fear as he unsheathed his katana sword and rushed over to Ann, holding the deathly sharp blade a few inches from her throat. Your heart leaped to your mouth. If he was to try anything, you were ready to start chaos.

But nothing of the sort happened. Ann simply sighed frustratingly and held up her hand obediently. Niragi hummed, approving.

“This isn’t a majority vote,” Mira hissed from next to him.

Niragi stood and leaned his face close to hers, holding the barrel of his weapon close to her face to threaten her. “But it is! Isn’t it? After all, you’re all free to vote as well.”

One by one, he slowly circled the table, each person being scared for their life the closer he got to them. But you remained calm next to Chishiya, knowing that considering the relationship you have with Niragi, he wouldn’t do anything that would hurt you. He didn’t have the guts to.

As he moved from Chishiya, he finally locked eyes with you. He quickly strolled up to your still frame, stopping suddenly very close to you in an attempt to make you feel threatened. ‘As usual,’ you thought to yourself. ‘The old “I’m taller and bigger than you so I’m stronger” stupid tactic.’

“And what about you princess? Care to raise your hand for a vote for Aguni?” he hissed into your face. You held your neutral expression, becoming bored from this act he was putting on. It was purely for show, and yet wasn’t everyone’s personality? But Niragi, his act of this scary psychotic man angered you to your core.

“What if I don’t?” you snickered, walking towards him in an attempt of intimidation. He took a step back in shock. “It’s not like you need my precious vote, you already have so many.”

Niragi’s usual cocky smirk melted from his face, turning into a frustrated scowl. You felt him put his rifle underneath your chin, forcing you to lock eyes with him. “Be careful with that tongue of yours sweetheart, you wouldn’t want to lose it,” he growled quietly.

His threat made you smirk, almost bringing butterflies into your stomach. “I think you should be more concerned about that head of yours. You wouldn’t want to get it stuck too far up your own ass.”

You flinched as you felt his rough hand shoot from his rifle to your neck, instantly tightening around your throat making you widen your eyes in surprise. You lifted your arm and gripped his wrist in case he tightened his hold anymore. The look on his face was deathly. If looks could kill, you’d be already a few years into the afterlife.

Chishiya stood beside you watching the whole scene. He knew better than to intervene, as he could tell that Niragi wouldn’t ever intentionally permanently hurt you.

Niragi held you still as he leaned down to your ear, his hot breath hitting your sensitive skin. “Shut your fucking mouth you brat. You wouldn’t want me to hurt you too much later, would you?” You cringed as you felt his tongue slide behind the back of your ear, the piercing making you shiver.

“Niragi,” you heard Aguni say, saving you from the public embarrassment of getting felt up by Niragi in front of everyone you knew. “That’s enough, I think she gets the point.”

Niragi grunted in annoyance before loosening his fist on your neck. You sucked in a huge gasp of air, coughing slightly. Chishiya placed a gentle hand on your back in a sign of care, hoping that you’re okay.

Niragi aimed his rifle lazily at Chishiya’s face. “She’s fine, don’t touch her. A little choking is nothing she can’t handle.”

Chishiya immediately took his hand off of you, being taken back by Niragi’s comment.

You stood up straight after recovering, laying your eyes back on Niragi as he continued terrorizing the executive members.

God you hated that man. You hated how much you loved him.

*************

The room was now empty, consisting of no one except for you and Ann, who was still looking over Hatter’s body for any other injuries. You watched curiously, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.

“Seems a bit weird, doesn’t it?” you spoke up through the silence.

“What does?” Ann answered, not bothering to look at you.

“Someone with a hundred percent winning streak dies now? Just as the tension between the militants and the others was getting to its peak?” you questioned.

Ann rolled her eyes sarcastically and turned towards you. “Took you long enough to figure out. Really? You didn’t suspect that from the start? Even after that shit-show that Niragi pulled earlier?”

You were taken back by her sudden anger. Ann never became mad at you, even if she had a legitimate reason to. You looked at her as she stared into your eyes intensely before sighing and turning back to Hatter.

“Sorry Y/N,” she apologized. “I’m just stressed. This shit is getting too heavy to handle, and now with Hatter gone and Aguni in his place, who knows what will happen to people like you, me, Mira, Chishiya and Alice. They could kill us if they want to.”

Her words hit your heart heavily. It was true. Aguni and his militants were never a particularly predictable bunch. And you weren’t exactly on all their good sides, well, except for Niragi’s.

“Sorry Ann,” you muttered out quietly. You thought it would be best to leave her alone. She obviously was quite distraught from Hatter’s death.

You shuffled out of the room, head held low in despair. Who knew what would happen to this place now? It was like a ticking time bomb only no one knew how long there was left until it exploded.

As you walked through the large door frame that led outside of the meeting room, a sudden grip on your arm brought you out of your thoughts and made you yelp. You were yanked into a hard chest, being held close and tight.

“Hey love. How are you feeling?” the person growled. You looked to see it was none other than Niragi himself. Of course it was, who else would treat you so roughly?

You stared into his ominous eyes, trying to read him. He ran his hand down your back slowly causing you to shiver. “Niragi,” you breathed out. You pushed against his broad chest to separate you. “Sorry, but I’m not in the mood right now.”

You stepped away from him and tried to escape down the hall, but he grabbed your hand before you could go anywhere. “Bullshit. You’re never in the mood. And the sass you were giving me in there in front of everyone says otherwise.” He pulled you back towards him, pushing your head onto his shoulder and nuzzling into your neck. “I didn’t like how you treated me, it made me upset.”

He was lying through his teeth, knowing that making you feel guilty for defending yourself against him would bring him more of your attention. Simple gaslighting, worked every time.

You chuckled against him then leaned back and cupped his face with your hands. He held a sad expression on his face, obviously to make you sympathetic.

“You’re such a big baby,” you laughed. “Try to act so tough and dominant in front of everyone, but look at you now. Crying into my shoulder about your feewings?” you mocked him. Niragi scowled and pulled his head out of your hands. “Shut up, as if you’re any better.”

It was true. That’s why you both clicked together. He was a gaslighting maniac who knew how to put up a fake ‘nice guy’ façade around you and you were a tough and snappy woman, who felt much too much empathy for others.

That’s how you fell into his trap. He used your empathy to his advantage, making you fall in love with him so he could have what he’d always wanted. Someone who loves him for who he is, no matter how many masks he had to put on for them.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, leaning up and pressing a small peck onto his lips. “Can you promise me something?” he suddenly asked after you pulled away from his face.

You grew anxious about what he wanted and nodded your head slowly in hesitation.

“When the chance comes, can we leave The Beach together? Like, run away?” he questioned, snaking his arms around your waist and squeezing tightly.

You laughed at his question, making him frown. He was being completely serious. “And go where Niragi? There’s not exactly a place we can go to.”

“Anywhere,” he answered sharply. “We could find a nice little hideout in Tokyo. Just you and me, no one else.” His grip on your waist tightened, making you flinch in his arms slightly.

He could see you tossing between answers. It wasn’t working, he had to try something else. He put on the fakest sad face he could do and pressed his forehead against yours while pouting. “Please? I promise I’ll take care of you.”

You practically melted as his begging. “Okay,” you sighed.

“Promise me,” he reminded you, running a hand through your soft hair.

There was a short moment of silence before you answered. “I promise.”

*************

You laid in your room with the sheets tossed lazily over you. Niragi was called to go talk to Aguni again before he went to sleep, so you were waiting for him.

Your eyes scanned your book quickly, wanting to finish the chapter you were on before Niragi returned. Because god forbid you having your attention on something that wasn’t him when he was around.

You glanced over at the door when you heard it creep open and Niragi stepped in, placing his sniper rifle carefully on the ground nearby and removing his boots.

“You took your time.” you teased, putting your book on the nightstand and sitting up in bed. Niragi groaned tiredly, stumbling over to your shared bed and collapsed dramatically face down onto the duvet. You giggled at him, running a soft hand though his midnight hair and pulling it out of it’s hair tie.

If he was a cat, he swore he could’ve purred at your touch. It made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. Not having physical affection for years on end does that to a person.

He sat up and crawled over to you. He grabbed your chin and pressed your lips together roughly, running his tongue across your mouth as he did so. You groaned into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck, making him smirk against your lips.

After a few minutes, he detached his lips from yours and started licking and sucking your sensitive skin on your jaw, slowly making his way down your neck. He felt shivers run down his spine as you gripped his shirt in your fist on his back. He loved having this power over you, and having you accept him and love him enough to not fight back.

You leaned your head back and closed your eyes, giving him more access to your neck. As you did so, he placed a hand on your lower back and pulled you towards him, forcing you to lie down on the bed with him hovering over you.

He pulled away from your neck and looked down at you, admiring your anxious expression painted across your face. He chucked. “What’s wrong baby,” he cooed, leaning down and continuing kissing your collarbones.

His voice was dripping in sweetness, so sweet it could’ve made you feel sick. It sounded fake, but you didn’t pick up on it. It was a shame. You saw Niragi as nothing but a victim of his own mind, but you weren’t able to see yourself becoming a victim of it.

“I’m just...” you mumbled out, feeling weak and vulnerable under his touch. “I’m scared Niragi.”

He pulled back again and looked into your eyes with a worried expression. “Why are you scared? It’s just me and you here angel. You’re perfectly safe,” he whispered out, stroking his knuckles down your cheek lovingly.

You knew you loved Niragi, but knowing he can change his personality in a blink of an eye unsettled you. Who knew when he would do that to you? You heard him speak up again.

“We’ve slept together many times before, why are you becoming shy just now?” he teased, lifting a hand and slowly running it up along your tummy underneath your shirt. Your breath hitched as his cold hands made contact, making your stomach muscles tense.

“So sensitive,” he cooed again, snuggling his head into your chest, just above your breasts. “I love you.”

The confession made your heart skip a beat and you tensed. Niragi noticed this, making his body fill with anxiety. Did he say it too soon?

“Sorry,” he mumbled against your shirt. “That was a bit much, you don’t have to say it back,” he gaslighted.

“No,” you cut him off. “I love you too.”

Niragi’s heart filled with warmth and he felt all his nerves tingle around his body. He hadn’t heard that since he was a kid, and hearing you say it did nothing but make him more fall in love.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he sniffed out. You looked down to see him staring at you, tears filling his eyes. It made your heart ache.

He took his body weight off you and hovered himself above you again. “I promise, I won’t let anyone ever hurt you,” he mumbled, voice cracking slightly. His arms that laid on either side of your head acted like a cage. Whether you were trapped willingly or forcefully was beyond your guess.

As he leaned his head down again and pressed his still wet lips against yours, you felt his lanky arms snake around your torso underneath you, keeping you in place.

You laid there, moving your mouths together and holding each other as close as possible. It would’ve almost been romantic and loving if it wasn’t for the context. While one was preying on their victim to achieve what they’ve so desperately wanted their whole life, the other believed that that person was the victim themselves.

Such irony, to love someone who has a ‘unlovable’ personality, when it’s not even the one that you fell in love with.

The one you fell in love with was nothing but one of his many masks. And no one could determine whether he would ever take it off in front of you.

Author’s Note: I’m so sorry this one was actually hard to write. It’s a bit all over the place but I hope it was still enjoyable to read! Also I’m not going to do a Part 2 to this fic, but if you want to read something similar to this kind of yandere theme with Niragi, read my other fic called You’re Everything You Once Hated. I’m going to be posting a Part 2 of that one soon.

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beewolfwrites · 3 years

Text

The Oar in the Sand - Chapter Seven: The Second Day of Nostos

@cheshiya @tenseoyong @szallejhscorner @something-more-original-please @ofsunsetsandpoetries @nek0dzuken @allozaur @serenzippity @hiqhkey

Another update! This was supposed to be posted yesterday, but life just kept getting in the way. But thank heavens it’s here now :)

I’ll stick the AO3 link here for the ones that want it. Thanks for reading <3

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

There were two things I had come to enjoy here in the Borderlands. The first was the freedom I had now that the old world and all of its problems were gone. The second was waking up beside Chishiya.

Usually I was the first to fall asleep and he was the first to wake up, so it was rare that he was still around when I opened my eyes. This morning was different. His face was angled away from me, and his hair was splayed across the pillow, almost obscuring his face from view. Almost, but not quite. Curling up at his side, I observed the way his sly smile had become slack, disappearing entirely as it made way for something far different.

He probably hadn’t intended on sleeping in like this, but the exhaustion of the previous day was overwhelming. I remained there for a long time, peeking out at him from beneath the sheets until his breathing lightened and he started to stir. One eye cracked open, squinted, then slid over to mine.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Just enjoying the fact that you’re not dead.’

He raised a brow. ‘Between the two of us, you’re more likely to get shot than I am.’

What should’ve been a snarky comment came across flat and uninterested. Now that he was awake, the shadows beneath his eyes were more pronounced, and I could see the dark roots of his hair had grown longer. It was strange to see him looking this weary, but even Chishiya was only human. He was no more immune to bullets than I was.

‘What are you thinking about now?’

I could tell by his tone that he was trying to taunt me. But my thoughts were detached. I couldn’t stop thinking about the game. ‘Yesterday, it wasn’t just me who cleared it. An was there too, with two girls from the Beach. They said that the King of Spades attacked their camp right after the second stage started.’

He quietly considered it for a moment. ‘And we were close enough to hear the gunshots. He probably started with the camp before heading over to us.’

Heading over to us?

‘You don’t mean…’

‘He knows the location of all the players,’ Chishiya said.

That’s not…

No, it was fair. Once a player knew about his game, it was easy to avoid him just by mapping out the location of his blimp and remaining as far from it as possible. Him knowing the players’ locations only evened out the playing field.

‘An told me something else too. Apparently he moves all across Tokyo. Aside from the other game venues, the whole city is his arena.’

I thought this would’ve piqued Chishiya’s interest more, but as expected he was already a step ahead. ‘I realised the same thing when he chased you. It makes sense they would plan things this way. They’re trying to drive players into the game venues.’ He sat up a little, resting against the headboard and lacing his fingers together. ‘While you were in your game, another one was cleared. The King of Clubs.’

The hardest of the Clubs games. It made sense that those ones would be completed pretty quickly, given the chance of survival was the highest. ‘That was pretty quick.’

‘I suppose it was,’ Chishiya retorted. ‘But I have a feeling I know who cleared it.’

‘Hm?’

‘Arisu.’

Arisu? The last time I had seen him was when he was with… ‘Kuina was probably there too. An said when their camp split up, she got into a car with Arisu and Tatta. They must’ve gone to the game venue together.’

And if they cleared it, that meant they were still alive. They had to be. Knowing Arisu, he would’ve taken Usagi with him too. I almost felt like I could rest easy if the four of them were safe. Although they must’ve met the King of Clubs while they were there.

‘The Queen of Diamonds died.’ I hated how thick my voice sounded. ‘But I wish she didn’t. Is that okay?’ I looked up, meeting Chishiya’s stony gaze. ‘I mean, is it okay for me to like her?’

‘I don’t see why it matters whether you do or don’t,’ he replied. ‘The outcome is the same.’

I could still see her smile right before the wood gave way, a sort of peace mixed with relief. ‘I thought she was going to be evil or scary, kind of like Mira.’ The way she’d picked out the footage of mine and Arisu’s first games, the provocation was like a test. The Queen of Diamonds though, had been totally different. ‘She wasn’t like Mira at all. Right from the start, she wanted us to win.’

Chishiya was watching the dust motes glide in the sunlight, idly listening. ‘Did you find out anything?’

‘I’ve dedicated my whole life to the pursuit of knowledge, but I’ve learned to be satisfied with not knowing.’

‘She was a player,’ I told him. ‘She didn’t know about the Borderlands either.’

He mulled it over quietly. ‘I thought so.’

Chishiya knew they were players?

I sat up in bed. ‘There’s no way you could’ve known that.’

‘It was just an idea,’ he replied. ‘I’ve been here longer than you. I’ve thought a lot about the possibilities.’ He paused for a minute, then smiled ironically. ‘It’s very possible we could all be dead.’

It was a horrible idea, the thought that all our efforts to survive were in vain. Or perhaps, it was one big test of character to determine our place in an afterlife. And if we died in a game, would it be a second death, or would it allow us to proceed to a further level of some kind? Was it a true death at all?

‘I’d like to think we’re still alive,’ I admitted. ‘You probably don’t care, but I’d like to go back to the real world with you.’

‘Oh? And what makes you think there’s a way back at all?’

Hatter’s theory had been only half correct. But while the Queen had avoided telling us everything, she’d revealed even more than she perhaps intended. ‘The Queen of Diamonds said she went through the same thing we did, found all the cards, and then completed the face card games like we’re doing now. But then she called the others citizens. If we’re currently here on a visa-basis, maybe clearing all the games gives us the chance of a permanent citizenship—’

‘If that’s so, it’d only prove my point.’

‘No.’ I shook my head, thinking back to the game. ‘She also mentioned that she chose to stay here. If there’s a choice to stay, it means there’s a choice to leave.

I could see Chishiya’s mind working, taking it all in. It was as if he absorbed all the knowledge he encountered, storing it up and processing it for use later. He didn’t respond to my theory, but simply accepted it, and relaxed against the headboard, staring at the ceiling. As he tilted his head back, the dressing over his neck was exposed, and I suddenly became aware that we were still wearing our old, bloodied clothes.

I really, really need a wash. And new clothes. And new bed sheets.

Climbing out of the bed, I left Chishiya and made my way to the bathroom to clean up a little. However, when I passed the mirror above the sink and saw the face staring back at me, my mouth fell open.

This can’t be me.

My skin looked thinner and sallow, and without the Beach’s constant food supply, I’d lost weight, only not in a good way. The girl in the mirror was haggard and I barely even recognised her. While Chishiya had cleaned the dried blood from my forehead the night before, there were still flakes in my hairline and my face was dirtied.

I reached for the bottle of water beside the sink, except the plastic crinkled, empty. Throwing it away, I then checked the bathroom cupboards for our extra supply, but they too were empty.

You’re kidding me…

A quick search of the store revealed that we’d run out of water entirely. If our little hideout were closer to the river, it wouldn’t be a problem. However the river was too far away to collect water on a daily basis, and with the King of Spades out there, it wasn’t worth the risk. There had to be some way of storing water for the long-run.

Standing in the small kitchen, I could hear the muffled creaks of Chishiya moving about upstairs. And then the idea hit me. Walking out into the hallway, I called up the stairs, ‘I’m just going out to get something! I won’t be too long!’

There was no reply, but I knew he’d heard me as the noises quietened. He then appeared at the top of the stairs, leaning against the banister with an unimpressed smirk.

‘Are you sure that’s a good idea? The last time you ran off on your own, you stole the Queen of Diamonds game.’

His words stung, even if they’d been said teasingly. I hadn’t intended to steal the Queen of Diamonds Game. I only ran inside the building because there were others sheltering in there. I desperately wanted to tell him this, but it wouldn’t have made a difference. Chishiya may not have directly blamed me for what happened, but there was clearly some resentment that he hadn’t been able to complete the game himself. In his eyes, it didn’t matter.

And that hurt. It really, really hurt.

‘I’ll stay away from the King of Spades,’ I called out before leaving the furniture store.

It was warm out here in Tokyo, but not a pleasant warm. The air was dull and sticky, as if the city was thirsty for rain.

There must be a storm coming.

I took my time wandering through the silent streets and deeper into the city centre. Even here, the only sound was that of the birds building homes in vacant office blocks, and aside from a deer grazing on the grass in an empty lot, there was nobody around.

Luckily, I had explored this side of Tokyo enough that I’d formed my own mental map of the area, and I easily found the camping store where Kuina had picked up our current stove. Inside, the place was scavenged, and I had to step over several boxes until I found the section I was looking for. There were several water containers, but none of them were quite what I had in mind.

I ambled further down the streets until the road opened up into a car park. It was lined by several walkways leading into large, white interconnected buildings. Two tall clocks stood above a disused bus station and taxi rank. And as I walked further down the road, there were ambulances lined up outside.

I followed a series of steps led up to the main entrance, but once I was inside, the sunlight cut off. While an abandoned Tokyo was eerie, a dark, dusty hospital was a thing of nightmares. Just inside the entrance was an international poster stuck to the wall, with the same phrase written in different word-art fonts and various languages.

‘Welcome to Nihon University Itabashi Hospital!’

I walked further inside, passing a reception desk and a waiting area. It was evident that other players had been inside here, as there was litter on the ground, and some of the store rooms lay open, their contents emptied out.

Strolling along the corridors, I explored the theatre facilities. There were drawers upon drawers of syringes and sterile metal trays of surgical tools, and aside from a thin layer of dust, the hospital beds were all intact. If it weren’t for the King of Spades and the danger of other players, the hospital would make a decent camp for a group of survivors. But on second thought, I wasn’t prepared to give up the warmth and comfort of waking up next to Chishiya. Retreating back out of the wards, it was in a main corridor where I finally found what I was searching for.

A water dispenser.

Unlike the others, this didn’t open from a cap in the top, but rather the container had a tap at the bottom. It was perfect for Chishiya and I. Rather than having bottles of water lying around, we could simply fill it up and keep it as a main water source. It was balanced on top of a platform, unattached. But the container was filled with water already, and barely budged when I tried to lift it. Wrapping my arms around the body, I lugged it forward, right as a loud clap resounded through the hall.

The echo of a drawer slamming.

Someone’s here?!

Holding my breath, my arms slid away from the water container. I could hear it clearer now, the rustles of someone rooting through drawers of supplies. It was coming from the ward opposite me. Every instinct told me to leave quietly the way I came. My thudding heart screamed at me to get out now.

I should’ve listened.

Inching forward on tiptoe, I peered around the doorway into what looked like a recovery ward. On the right, the door to a stock room had been kicked open, the rustling growing louder as I approached. A tall man with dark fabric wrapped around his head was hunched over a desk. He muttered something, and my heart stilled.

‘What the hell’s this shit? Ah, forget it.’

No.

He was dead… wasn’t he?

‘Where the fuck do they keep the morphine anyway?’

He’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive.

My eyes gaped, unblinking, at the stock room door. I didn’t want to look but I couldn’t bring myself to look away either. The memory of his eyes burned through my mind. The sheer, unrestrained rage, and the desire to kill, I’d seen it all through the tatters of his singed shirt as he looked up at me from down below in the hotel lobby and pulled the trigger. I needed to leave. I needed to leave now.

I took a step back.

Clink.

The tiny, hollow clatter of a syringe rolling across the vinyl had never felt louder. It rolled across the width of the hall, before tapping against a doorframe. The rustling inside the store room suddenly stopped, and at that moment, we both knew.

#alice in borderland #chishiya alice in Borderland #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #Chishiya x reader #chishiya x oc #aib #Imawa no Kuni no Arisu

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mm2305 · 4 years

Text

All That Matters

Characters/pairings : Ethan Ramsey & Olivia Valentine

Words/Genre : 2.8 K / Angst , Romance

Warnings : mentions of death,injuries

Summary : Olivia gets seriously injured. How does Ethan react?

A/N : Hello again! This fic was written per @groovypalacehorselover ‘s request. This is the first time I’m attempting to write angst , so I hope this comes out good enough. A big THANK YOU to @romewritingshop for her help in editing this. Moodboard inspired by @potionsprefect 's ones.

Disclaimer : all characters and pictures belong to the rightful owners

My Masterlist

Enjoy!

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

Ethan was frantically rushing through the hospital corridors. Dread and anxiety flooded his mind that he could barely breathe. There was no way he would allow it to stall him. Pushing himself to go as fast as he could to get to the farthest wing of the hospital, he slammed the double doors ahead open.A group of interns were nattering amongst themselves,oblivious to the frantic attending approaching them. A thundering voice broke them out of their trance.

"OUT OF MY WAY!", he boomed at them, as he was approaching closer.

The interns, startled by him, broke apart allowing him to pass through them. What made them wonder though, was the clear, unadulterated emotion in his eyes. He looked as though his world was slowly crumbling around him. And they weren't wrong.

2 Hours Earlier

Olivia was finishing up her rounds for the day. In a few hours she’d be home, snuggled with her favorite throw blanket, watching a movie on Netflix while Ethan would complain incessantly about her taste in movies. She had to visit her last patient, a sweet seven year old boy named Nathan.

His diagnosis was a difficult case to solve and this made young Nathan restless. His mom came to stay with him in the evening but she had to go to work early in the morning. The poor boy was often bored out of his mind, taking adventurous strolls through the hospital, without telling anyone. There were several instances that she and a few nurses had to track him down, but still Nathan continued doing that. She couldn’t really blame the poor kid. Today was just one of those days.

Olivia walked to the nurses' desk, to ask about Nathan.

"Hello Sarah, did you happen to see Nathan? I think he snuck out of his room again."

"Dr Valentine! No, I haven't. Maybe you should ask Mary. She might have an idea where Nathan is.", The nurse replied with a soft smile.

"Okay, thank you!"

She left the reception in search of Mary. Before long, she found her in one of the halls.

"Hi Mary, I was wondering if you've seen Nathan?", She inquired politely.

"Dr Valentine! I was just looking for you. I think I saw the kid heading towards the halls leading to the new wing."

"The new wing? Isn't that under construction?", Olivia asked, an audible tremor in her voice.

"Yes?"

"Oh God! Come on! We need to find him now!", she said, a feeling of worry and dread filling her. The new wing Bloom designed was essentially a plan to enlarge the facilities available for research. From what she heard, it wasn't safe to roam around the place without any safety gear. It was too dangerous to go there, especially for a young boy like Nathan, but she won’t let him fall to harm.

After a few minutes of darting around and asking everyone they encountered, Mary and Olivia got the same response. They saw a kid among these halls at some point. By the time they reached the site, Olivia and Mary began calling for him.

"Nathan? Are you here?"

"Nathan? Nathan come here, it's me, Dr Olivia"

No answer. Either he wasn't here or he just couldn't hear them clearly. The two women began to slow down their pacing steps as they carefully tread through the congested building site, all while calling for the young boy.

"Dr Oliv?", They heard a small shaky voice calling.

Olivia knew it was him and rushed towards the direction of the voice. Mary, hot on her heels, noticed him first.

"He's there!", She exclaimed, running to his side and checking over him for any injuries.

Olivia began walking towards them, relieved that Nathan was okay,when she heard a cracking noise. She quickly realized that the wall, they were close to, was about to collapse! With a sudden burst of adrenaline, she rushed towards them and pushed them away from the wall. She smiled softly at them before she heard a bigger *crack* and everything went black.

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

MEANWHILE

Ethan was sitting at his computer, in his office, looking through files and updating the information onto his computer. Truth be told though, he was too distracted by a certain resident to concentrate on his current task.

Him and Olivia have been together for a little more than three months and he was happier than he had been in a long time. She really had the power to turn the worst of days better with just a smile.

She started coming to his house after work, in fact it’s almost like she had permanent residence in his heart and place. She spent most of the time there with him, just being together. Cooking, watching tv, playing ridiculous board games she always won. It was all very domestic and Ethan always felt his heart swell with love for her, at how at ease she felt being with him, in the place he now considered a home.

Glancing at the clock, he realised their shifts would end soon but he was too impatient. With a soft sigh, he turned off his computer and walked out of his office ,towards the front desk.

"Good afternoon, have you seen Dr. Valentine?", he asked a nurse he knew she frequently talked to.

"Dr. Ramsey! Yes, she was here a little while ago, she was looking for her young patient, Nathan. He has a habit of sneaking out of his room, you see - Wait a minute please!", she paused to answer the phone.

"Bloom Edenbrook Hospital how can I help you? Mary? What?! I’m sending the team right away!"

The woman, Sarah, turned to Ethan with a flurry of panic coursing in her eyes.

"Dr Ramsey, it was the nurse who was with Dr Valentine. They found the boy at the construction site! When they reached for him… a nearby wall collapsed on them!"

"What!? Oh my… No no no… Wh-What else did she tell you? Tell me!", he demanded, his eyes glossed with panic, the usual pink hue of his face drained as he turned as white as a sheet, his breathing in short stuttered gasps.

"Olivia ... was hit worst." Sarah whispered on the verge of tears.

"Page Mirani, Delarosa and the best nurses this damn hospital has! Understood! I'm going there now!"

Before she had a chance to reply, he was already off in search of his Olivia.

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

PRESENT TIME

Ethan continued running through the maze of corridors, his eyes full of unshed tears.

"Not her, please not her! Don't take her from me! Please!", Ethan wasn't by any means a religious man, but the fear of losing the woman he loved made him pray to whoever could hear his agonized thoughts. The one person on this earth for whom he would give anything for, was again in grave danger. Memories from the last time she was at the brink of death flooded his mind, knocking the breath out of his lungs. How fragile she looked and to know he couldn't do anything to save her, other than watch her become progressively weaker and her radiant smile, the one that could lighten up a whole room, fade away. "No, don't do this right now Ethan. Focus on her. Only her.", he thought, nodding to himself while pushing the last hurdle of doors open. His eyes quickly scanned the room, trying to locate her.

He finally saw her.

She was lying on the floor pieces of rubble around her. She was unconscious, her eyes closed, her golden hair around her face. As he rushed to her side, whilst avoiding the scattered materials, he saw a small patch of blood on the side of her head.

He knelt beside her, being careful not to move her, in fear of causing more damage to her body. He took her small, still warm, hand in his and softly began to stroke her cheek and hair.

"Darling? Olivia? It's me, Ethan. Please Olivia, can you hear me?", his voice wavered at the sight of her blood on his fingers from stroking her hair and a few tears were finally breaking through.

Her eyes fluttered as a soft little gasp left her lips.

"E-Ethan?", she whispered, her voice hoarse and barely audible.

"Yes, Love it's me."

"I… it hurts.. I can't…", she croaked but it was too difficult for her to breathe properly, the dust hovering in the air wasn'tmaking this any easier. Ethan noticed this and pushed her head slightly back, to allow her to breathe better.

"Shh darling I know… I'm here love, I'm not going anywhere...Please sweetheart don't give up on me… please…I can't lose you", Ethan whispered, stroking her cheek softly, trying to be strong for her.

Olivia fell unconscious once again, her chest taking short ragged breaths. He pried his eyes away from her to look around the room. A woman was in the corner with a crying child in her arms, trying to comfort him.

" Hi… Are you okay? Did you get hurt?" he asked them as he approached them.

"Nothing too bad. Might just be a sprained wrist and a couple of scratches. Nathan’s fine too, just shocked. Dr. Valentine…. she … she got the worst of it.", she replied with tears in her eyes.

Ethan didn't have a chance to reply as the team arrived. They immediately got down to work, not even hesitating to lose a minute, paying Ethan no attention.

"Get her on the gurney carefully! One mistake and you're fired!" Zaid commanded, with a fiery stern voice at the team of nurses.

"Zaid, she's got a cut on the side of her head and she's bleeding. I don't see anything too serious but we should order a scan. Shortness of breath indicates one or two fractured ribs and her left ulna and radius might be broken, given the swelling.", Ines said with evident concern and fear thick in her voice.

"Let's get some scans and see exactly what's going on", Zaid replied, trying to be as calm as possible, in this case. Olivia was his colleague,but more importantly she was his friend and he wouldn't allow anything to happen to her. Not on his watch.

"I'm coming with you!", Ethan interrupted their conversation.

"You're not in the right state of mind to help her now!"

"Zaid’s right about this. She needs you to be calm and focused when she wakes up.", Ines told him resting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Ethan had no choice but to reluctantly agree.

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

Several hours later, Ethan was pacing anxiously in front of the room Olivia was checked into. The night doctors were there checking on her. As soon as they heard what happened, her friends joined Ethan in the waiting room, to hear news about her condition. Sienna when she saw her best friend in that state, immediately broke down, Aurora and Elijah trying to comfort her. Bryce, Rafael and Jackie, were mostly silent, their minds running through endless scenarios of what could happen to the most courageous woman they knew.

She had a broken hand, three broken ribs; one of which was pressing too close to her lung; causing her difficulty in breathing smoothly. This required a minor surgery, which was conducted by Harper herself. She wouldn't let anyone else touch the woman she had come to consider a friend. Her head injury, thankfully, wasn't too bad, but there was a possibility of a mild concussion. The whole hospital was there to help Olivia in whatever way she needed. From nurses to interns to anyone she had always been kind to.

Now, Ethan was waiting outside of her room alone, because her friends left a few minutes ago. She wouldn't wake up for a few hours and they made sure she would be completely okay before they left. Besides, they knew that Ethan wouldn't leave her side. That is, once he got to finally see her.

Thirty agonizing minutes later, he was finally allowed to go into her room. His eyes glided across her small form on the hospital bed. The side of her head was wrapped in white gauze, because of the injury there. Her left arm was in a cast and placed on a pillow to make her more comfortable. She was hooked to an IV, her body seeming too delicate on the hospital bed. Her face was in a serene slumber, her body was still under the influence of the drugs she was given during and after her surgery.

Ethan took her soft hand in his, kissing her knuckles and looking tearfully at her.

"My love… You scared me so so much… When that nurse told me you were hurt… I thought I was going to lose you. Again.", He started talking to her, even though she couldn't hear him, he was baring his heart to her. Letting the tears he was holding on to fall.

"Finding you there, lying unconscious… was unbearable. Knowing that you may be gone forever, never being able to touch you, or see your beautiful smile, hear your awful jokes again… I’ve never believed in a higher power, but if there is a being that saved you, then I am grateful. Because, without you, none of this matters. You're my whole world Oliv. And this world means nothing to me if you’re not here darling", he finished , laying a soft kiss on her lips.

He stayed with her for a few hours, having no intention of leaving her, but Naveen forced him to go get a coffee and something to eat. Of course, Naveen promised he would stay there with her while Ethan was away.

On his way back to her room, he encountered Leland Bloom. "Great, just who I wanted to see", Ethan thought, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Ah Dr. Ramsey. I was just coming to find you. How is Dr. Valentine?", he asked with a facade of interest.

"She’s in her room resting. Still unconscious though, because of the anesthesia from her surgery. Now if you'll excuse me", Ethan curtly replied, walking past Leland, anxious to return to her room.

"I was hoping to come with you, actually. I wanted to ask you, will she make a full recovery?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes, in a couple months she will probably be alright.", Ethan gritted his teeth, retraining his seething anger at how intrusive this man could be.

"Probably? You're not certain? If her recovery takes so long, then she will be left behind in the hospital's advances. Pity… she was actually going to be one of the key assets to the progression of the hospital's success.", Leland said, not having noticed or probably caring about Ethan's expression.

Ethan couldn't believe what he was hearing. The way he spoke of Olivia. His Olivia. A human being, as though she was nothing but a tool to be used. He clenched his fists, blood coursing through his veins, ears ringing, face and neck flushed red with anger, trying to resist the immense urge to punch him square in his arrogant face.

"How DARE you talk that way about a human being who was seriously hurt? She could have been fucking killed and all you have to say is that she would be an asset to the success of the hospital? What kind of person are you, really? Do you see anything beyond your own selfish, moronic advancements?", Ethan turned to him abruptly, almost roaring, all the pent up emotions escaping him in this outburst towards this man.

Leland was stunned at his outburst, mouth gaping open for a second before he recollected himself. The two of them had become the center of attention as the nurses and doctors were forming a small circle, staring at the two men.

"I would best advise you against speaking to me like that Dr. Ramsey. I'm the one who is in charge here and I expect you to treat me with respect. Now, I understand you are under pressure right now since your partner was hurt, so I'm willing to look past this little tantrum. See you soon, Dr Ramsey." he replied, walking away from Ethan, who was stalking his way down the corridor to Olivia’s room, unbothered by Bloom’s words.

The only person in this world whose words mattered, laid in a hospital bed right now, and he vowed he would not spend any more precious time away from her. Because despite what life throws at them, all that matters is that his Rookie ... his Olivia ... his true love will be alright. They will be alright. Together.

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

Thank you for reading !!!

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mandoalorian · 4 years

Text

Champagne Problems [Frankie Morales x Reader]

Summary: Sitting on the night train, Frankie reminisces on the time he proposed to you, his high school sweetheart. You were so sure that this was all you ever wanted. But as it turned out, you had more on your plate than you initially bargained for, and things don’t go as well as Frankie could’ve hoped.

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 1600>

Warnings: allusions to death, mention of substance abuse, addiction, relapse, allusions to depression, cigarettes mention, self induced injury, food mention, alcohol mention.

Author’s Note: BASED HEAVILY ON THE SONG ‘Champagne Problems’ by Taylor Swift. Please please give this song a listen either before or after you read this. It is so beautiful.

Masterlist

Frankie booked the night train for a reason. He couldn’t stay in town anymore, knowing that you were still there. He had no place to go, but that was the least of his concerns. Embarrassed and humiliated, all Frankie wanted was to sit and drown in all his hurt. As he paid for the ticket, he considered how the train might look. Bustling crowds or silent sleepers? He wasn’t sure which was worse. So long as he was without you, he was alone and without purpose.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The living room was burning in amber candlelight, the faint smell of figgy pudding cooking in the distance was so distinct, and the crackling of the record player when the vinyl needed flipped was enough noise to give Frankie nightmares for the rest of his life. You and Frankie were the last ones dancing, your feet shuffling against his mom’s old carpet as you gazed longingly into his eyes.

When he got down on one knee and asked you to marry him, in front of his entire family, you wanted to say yes. So desperately, in your heart, you were certain that you wanted to marry Frankie Morales. And so, in that moment, you weren’t quite sure why the word “no” fell from your lips. Like every word you had ever spoken, the rejection was sweet like honey, and somehow, that only made the cut sting more.

Frankie’s face softened and he looked down at his feet as his cheeks burned pink with shame. You wanted the ground to swallow you whole. How could you do this to him? Frankie made the mistake of scoping out the room, taking in the appearance of his family members who sat there with their jaws agape, watching the heartbreaking scene unravel before them like some kind of movie. You hadn’t meant to hurt him like this. You would never mean to hurt him. You loved him.

And so, Frankie shoved the small velvet box back into his jean pocket and didn’t speak another word. He continued to slow dance with you until the song ended. The melody was tainted now, and you tried your hardest to fight back your tears. Somehow, you knew, this would be your last dance with Frankie. You wish you could find the words to make things right. Would an apology be enough? For a brief moment, you and Frankie looked into each other's eyes and you still felt that familiar love… until, on impulse, you made the decision to drop his hands and run away. You left him standing there, crestfallen, in front of his entire family.

Sitting on the train, he gazed out the window. Pearly white snowflakes fluttered past him and they reminded him of your gentle nature and delicacy. Your picture burned a hole in his wallet, and his mom’s wedding ring weighed down his pocket. Frankie’s heart was like glass, fragile, and you had so carelessly dropped it.

Frankie had told his family on Christmas Eve when he thought you were tucked up in the warmth of his bed, fast asleep. The excitement was bubbling within him and he just couldn’t keep it in anymore. He had told them of his plan to marry you. But his delight was short-lived when he acknowledged the concern that crossed their faces. You were Frankie’s only ever love; his highschool sweetheart, but they knew you were a ticking time bomb. You were about as self-destructive as they came.

The Morales’ had known you long enough to recognise your history of mental illness; although they didn’t take the liberty to understand it. You hadn’t had the easiest of lives, but neither had Frankie. You had grown up with them. Whether they liked you or not, they were your family.

Between the pile of ash and the burned out cigarettes that cluttered every surface of his childhood bedroom, you felt yourself slipping into relapse. You weren’t sleeping like he thought you were. When the panic swelled into your lungs, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Your mind was racing, your sobs were hysterical, and you were smashing up the cheap beer bottles so the glass cut your fingers. You desperately searched for a quick and easy way out. For once, you just wanted to feel something.

Frankie was the love of your life. He deserved to know about your struggles. You knew that, deep down, he would want to know. He would want to help you. Frankie was so caring, holding your hand through every battle you ever fought. But he wasn’t without scars either. He’d finally recovered from his own problem with addiction, and you had promised him that you were getting better too. You didn’t need to drag him down when he was doing so well.

That’s the thing. You were so sure you were getting better. With Frankie having retired from the force, he was by your side every second of the day, and you had truly never been happier. But any person who suffers with mental illness will tell you that Christmas is the hardest time of the year. In fact, you were surprised to see him coping so well, not knowing that the thought of marrying you was the only thing getting him through the season.

You couldn’t enjoy yourself. The thought of eating all the delicious foods that Mrs Morales had prepared made you feel sick to your stomach, and it would be so easy to mess up and have one too many glasses of wine before you were spiralling again.

The night of the proposal, Frankie’s brother, Abel, had splashed out on the finest bottle of Don Périgon.

But nobody was celebrating.

Not even bothering to wrap up warm, you had left for good, into the darkness of the woods behind the Morales family home. The cold of the winter night stung every inch of your bare body, and the ice slipped through your shoes as you trenched through the thick white snow.

The memory replayed in your mind over and over again, tears free-falling down your face at this point. Your sobs echoed through the bare trees and as you crossed the frozen lake, you made no effort to be careful. This was your fate.

As Frankie sat on the train, contemplating his rejection, he couldn’t help but let out a deflated chuckle. He felt pathetic.

He had a whole speech planned out; about how he knew that you were the one for him the day he met you. It was sophomore year of high school and you and your friends were hanging out by his Chevy truck. Your cheeks were flushed with the colour of November and you were wearing a brown and blue flannel shirt that dropped down to your knees. It was identical to his.

By the time college rolled around, you had already been dating for a year, and had decided to move in together.

“This dorm was once a madhouse.” Frankie exclaimed incredulously, his dark eyes going comically wide as he read the pamphlet that had been presented to him by the university landlord.

You joked with a half smile and tugged on his arm. “Well it’s made for me.” With the jangle of the keys, you both entered your first ever home together — a shanty little apartment located in the corner of campus. Little did you know, those four walls were where you’d really begin to lose your mind. Nevertheless, those were his memories of you, and he wouldn’t change them for the world.

Frankie considered yours and his friendship group in college ‘evergreen’; a symbol of perfection, but now he didn’t think he’d ever say that word again. In a life without you, no such beauty could exist.

He had a speech, now he’s speechless. His love slipped beyond your reaches, and you couldn’t even give him a reason. His hometown skeptics called it champagne problems. It was a glamourised reference to your addiction.

As you walked over the lake, you didn’t even notice the way the ice slowly began to crack beneath your feet. Your thoughts were too loud as you tried your hardest to justify your actions. Maybe you just weren’t cut out for marriage. Sometimes you just don’t know the answer until someone’s on their knees and asks you.

Not long after you had run off, Frankie broke down in front of his family. His parents and siblings surrounded him, shushing him and holding him tight. In a desperate attempt to comfort him, they put you down, making it out as if he deserved better.

Frankie didn’t know if he deserved better. All he knew was that he wanted you.

“She would’ve made such a lovely bride, what a shame she’s fucked in the head,” they said. “but you’ll find the real thing instead.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When the ice finally shattered, you were already completely numb. Blue lips and snowflakes balancing on your eyelashes — and yet all you could think about was your Frankie. You were sure that he’d move on eventually, he had to. He deserved happiness. If you could have it your way, you’d apologise for wasting his time all these years.

As your body sunk into the depths of the river, you could only hope that he’d eventually forget about your champagne problems.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Permanent taglist: @paintballkid711 @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja200 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog @artsymaddie @harrys-stan @kennedywxlsh @cripplingmoon @cheekygeek05 @mrschiltoncat @rye-flower @theamuz @persie33 @sleepylunarwolf @martellthemandalor @pedro-pastel @steeevienicks @rrtxcmt @saphic-susperia

#pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal x reader #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #catfish morales #catfish morales x reader #triple frontier

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tomurasprincess · 4 years

Text

Wraith’s Touch (Yandere Ghost Shigaraki x Reader)

Pairing: Shigaraki x Reader Triggers: Noncon, dubcon, somnophilia, voyeurism, choking, death, yandere. This is seriously dark, so beware. Word Count: 8.5k Note: I blame Cadence for making me thirsty for this idea.

~~~~

There was something creepy about the house, you thought, for what felt like the 50th time today. It was a large, sprawling Victorian style estate, an old house even by your grandmother’s standards. She had lived there alone for years and had refused to move, and she never would tell you why.

You had stayed there before on summer break, when you were a teenager. Although you always adored your grandmother, something about the house itself was unsettling. You felt like you were being constantly watched, felt like things would move around in places where you did not think you had moved them. You thought you saw shadows out of the corners of your eyes, heard strange voices in the middle of the night.

Your grandmother insisted nothing was wrong, that you were simply being paranoid and that she had never experienced anything like what you were describing. You tried very hard to believe her, but it was hard to do that when you saw the worried look in her eyes, the tremble in her voice when she tried to say everything was okay. Ultimately, she made an excuse of you needing to leave quickly, that something had come up. So you had found somewhere else and hadn’t really seen her much after that.

She had died unexpectedly around a month ago, and with no other family to inherit her house and belongings, you were the one chosen to handle everything. You hadn’t been quite as close to your grandmother since that summer at her house, a fact that you bitterly resented now. But anytime you had tried to make plans to come visit, she would always tell you she was too busy and that you’d find another time to get together.

And now you were being willed her house, the one that had so many good memories of your grandmother, but also many unsettling ones. You wish you could be going back to the house in better circumstances.

You lived 2 hours away from where the house was, and it made no sense to continue to stay there and make the drive every day as you sorted through everything in the house. You had broken your lease, explaining about the death, and although your landlord wasn’t happy, he at least wasn’t angry.

Now you are standing outside with a moving van, reminiscing about your past in this house. You sigh and shake your head, before going around to open the back of the van. Your belongings all fit into one small van, since you didn’t have a ton of room in your old apartment. You had left a few things, mostly old furniture, back at the apartment for other people to take if they wanted. This house was huge, and had enough furniture that you wouldn’t need all of your old stuff.

You grab a few boxes from the back of the van and walk to the front door before setting them aside to pull out the keys from your pocket. You take a deep breath before putting the key in the lock and turning it, stepping into the house for the first time in several years.

The feeling of being watched has not gone away since you were last here, the entire entryway feeling just a bit too claustrophobic. The air temperature of the house is cold, your breath puffing out in white clouds. Great, you think to yourself, I bet the air conditioning and heating unit is broken. Will have to remember to call a repairman tomorrow.

You let out a sigh and pick the boxes back up, carrying them into the house. You tried to be efficient with the packing, marking all of the boxes according to what room they went on. These boxes all went to whatever room you would choose as your bedroom.

Your grandmother’s room was technically the master bedroom of the house, but you don’t feel comfortable sleeping in there. So you go down the hall from where her old bedroom was located, and open up the door to where you used to stay.

The room was very similar looking to when you were there before, all the knick knacks and personal items still displayed around the room. The bed was neatly made, and the dresser still had a few small items of clothing that you had forgotten from when you left.

The one difference about the room was how oppressive the air is. It seems to beat down on you, making the room feel like it’s closing in. You had experienced some weird feelings in the house before, but never anything like this. You’re being ridiculous, you scold yourself. This is just a house, and you’re simply missing your grandma.

You shake your head at your thoughts and place the boxes down in the room, before turning around and walking to the door.

As you reach for the doorknob, you hear a strange noise. You whirl your head around, looking through the room again but you see nothing. Old houses make strange noises, you reason with yourself.

And yet you could have sworn it sounded like soft laughter.

~~~~

You collapse in an exhausted heap on the couch. You have finished moving and unpacking the boxes containing your own stuff, and you have started to go through your grandmother’s.

You haven’t even fully re-explored the house yet, and you still have so much to go through. It is much too large for you to consider living in permanently, and you intend to simply sell the house and buy a more modest one with the money from the sale and your inheritance.

But your grandmother had lived here for years, and the house had the accumulation of all that time of collecting items and knick knacks. It was going to take so long for you to go through everything, sorting what to keep and what to sell.

You want to get through this as quickly as possible. The house remains unsettling, and it only seemed to get worse. The atmosphere was still so heavy, almost like a physical presence beating down on you.

The air conditioning and heating repairmen had shown up, only to find nothing wrong. But the house still had strange cold spots throughout, with no explanation for it.

You see shadows out of the corner of your eye, shadows that look people shaped. But when you turn your head around, you see nothing.

Sometimes you think you hear voices, laughter, coming from the dark places deep within the house. It is terrifying, despite how much you try to convince yourself that it’s just the noises of an old house settling.

The final straw was when you were standing on your tiptoes, trying to reach a box from a high shelf. You almost had it when you heard it. A soft whisper in your ear, one that almost sounded like the word “mine.” And then a cold caress, wrapping around your waist.

You startled so hard that you pulled the box entirely off the shelf, leaving it to fall to the floor and smash the contents into pieces. It scared you down to the bones, despite your efforts to rationalize it, to make logical sense of it.

You are so scared, in fact, that you have invited your pro-hero friend to stay the night. He laughed at your fears, promising there was nothing wrong, and that he would be glad to stay with you.

You always had a bit of a crush on him, but it had never amounted to anything. He was busy with his pro-hero job, and you lived a bit too far away for the two of you to see much of each other.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by a knock on the door. Finally, you think, he’s running late. You hurry to the door and open it to the face of your friend. He smiles and holds out fast food.

“I figured you were hungry,” he says, before walking into the house.

“I owe you,” you reply, “this house is creepier than I remember.”

“There's nothing wrong, you’re just a scaredy cat with a weak quirk. That’s why I’m here.”

You roll your eyes at his arrogance about his quirk, as you lead him to the room you’ve been using as the living area.

A few hours later, and you find yourself feeling just a bit better about everything. Nothing has happened since your friend arrived, and even the atmosphere has gotten less heavy. You’re both curled up on the couch, stuffed full of food and talking about mindless topics. You’re starting to feel just a bit silly about the whole thing, and you tell him so.

“I told you so,” he chuckles, “anyone would go a bit stir crazy in this house. Plus, you’re still grieving.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” You’re surprised when he scoots closer to you and puts an arm around you, and even more surprised when he grabs your chin to pull you in for a kiss.

You stiffen up for a single second, before melting into the kiss, scooting even closer to him as he wraps his arm around you.

He pulls you into his lap so that he can settle you in between his legs, deepening the kiss as you wrap your arms around him to tangle your hands into his hair.

He grabs your hips, pushing you down onto the hardness you can feel in his pants. The friction of it has you gasping and grinding down harder, trying to get friction on your clit.

He reaches down to the hem of your shirt, pulling it off of you before kissing a line down the column of your neck and occasionally sucking at the skin.

You are just starting to get into when it abruptly stops. You glance down at him only to see his eyes blown wide open, staring at something behind you. You turn around to look and see an antique mirror.

You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when he lets out a scream and shoves you off his lap. You land on the floor in a dazed heap. “Oh god, the mirror, look at the mirror!,” his voice comes out in a purely panicked tone.

You glance back and still see only a mirror. “It’s just a mirror, I don’t see anything.”

“...you don’t see him?”

“See who? You’re not making any sense!”

“There’s a man,” he whispers in a low tone, like he thought the man would hear him, “and he looks so pissed.”

“You just saw a shadow of something,” you try to soothe him, “there’s nothing there.”

“HE’S THERE.” You jump as his voice suddenly gets louder. “Oh fuck, he’s…!” His voice rises into a scream before cutting off. He turns around and starts to run.

You jump up from the floor to follow him and try to calm him back down, but you discover he’s gone already as you see the front door wide open. “So much for the big, tough hero,” you mutter to yourself.

You walk back to the living room to take one last look at the mirror. You still see nothing, and yet a shiver runs down your back as you feel like someone is staring at you. And that someone is darkly amused.

~~~~

You wake up slowly, rolling over onto your other side with full intention of falling back to sleep. But you realize something feels weird. Everything feels hazy, like this is no longer your world. You open your eyes and look around, only to be shocked by what you see.

Your bedroom is entirely different. It simultaneously looks newer than the room you went to sleep in, but also significantly more old fashioned. Like you were shot back into the past of the house.

The room feels heavy and oppressive, and you feel the telltale weight of someone watching you that you’ve felt ever since you came back to the house. This time though, the energy feels eager, gleefully malicious. Like it’s won something.

You startle a bit when you notice another significant difference to the room. There is no door. No windows. The places where they’re supposed to be are nothing but blank walls. No way out of this room.

It’s with that discovery that the realization finally hits you. A dream, you think, I’m simply dreaming. A vivid dream, you reason with yourself, but still ultimately a dream. You relax a bit with this knowledge, until a shimmer appears beside you.

You spin your head around in time to see a man materialize out of nowhere, right beside the bed. He is on the tall side, with light blue hair that almost appears silver and eyes that are a striking red. He’s wearing black jeans and a black hoodie, with red shoes. He has his hands stuffed into his hoodie pocket, although for some reason his pinkies are sticking out of the side of the pocket. He looks strangely indistinct, blurry around the edges, almost as if he’s see-through and not truly part of this world.

You glance up into his red eyes and are frightened by what you see in their depths. There’s a darkness there, a terrible obsession you can barely even comprehend. Just a dream, you remind yourself, whoever this is can’t do anything.

“Just a dream, huh?” His face breaks out into a smirk. Your heart drops into your stomach as you realize he read your mind. Of course he can read your mind, you reprimand yourself, this is your own dream in your own head.

“Does this feel like a dream?” He reaches towards you, ice cold fingers trailing up your arm and leaving goosebumps in their wake. It feels incredibly real, and you shiver a bit at the contact. You wonder why you’re dreaming about someone you have never met. And why it feels like you know this man anyway, on a deep level beyond anything you have ever felt.

“Because you do know me.” His fingers slide even further up your arm, reaching your face. He grabs your chin and leans in.

You try to pull away from his hand, to shake your head no, but he simply tightens his grip. “You’re wrong, I don’t know you,” you hiss out, “so I don’t even know why I’m dreaming about you.”

“My name is Tomura Shigaraki.” The name strikes a cord within you, as if you knew it already, as if you’ve waited your whole life simply to hear it again. “And I have waited for you for a long time.”

He leans in to capture your lips with his own, surprising you with how cold his mouth is as he forces his tongue into your mouth before you can protest. It’s a sloppy, possessive kiss, more about claiming than any sense of romance. He pulls away from the kiss.

“You’re here because you belong to me,” he whispers, only to begin kissing down your jawline, planting open mouth kisses down your neck. “And you have been from the second I saw you.”

He licks and bites at your collarbones, before finally getting to the point where your nightshirt covers your skin. He grabs the front with his hand, and you watch in horror as it begins to turn to ash, flecks of it flying away. You notice he used all five of his fingers, and suddenly realize why he had been keeping his pinkies up.

He goes further down, kissing and licking down your chest, before getting to your breasts. He kneads one in his hand, pinching the nipple between his fingers, before taking the other nipple into his mouth and sucking. He switches off, taking the other nipple into his mouth also, sucking and twisting them until they’re both hard.

He reaches for your pajama pants, grabbing and decaying them like he did your top. You wear no bra or panties for bed, so you’re left bare and exposed to him. He chuckles darkly as his fingers run lower, swiping down your folds. “You’re so wet for me, pet,” he purrs into your ear, “it seems you missed me just as much as I missed you.” You feel like you should be embarrassed, but it seems silly to be embarrassed in your own dream.

He laughs before leaning back just enough to pull his hoodie over his head, tossing it aside. His pants and shoes follow quickly, and you can’t help but glance down. He is impressively thick, and already painfully hard, a bead of pre-cum already at the tip.

If this is a dream, you reason with yourself, then there’s really nothing wrong enjoying this, now is there? A smirk graces Shigaraki’s face. “You’re right, pet,” he coos, “it’s just a dream, so enjoy the pleasure.”

He grabs your thighs tightly, this time with his middle fingers raised, squeezing down so hard that you know there would be bruises if this wasn’t a dream. He spreads them apart roughly, before glancing down to look at your now exposed pussy. Now you do feel embarrassment, squirming a bit to try and close your legs, but he only digs his fingers even harder into the skin of your thighs.

“Don’t try to hide from me,” he growls in warning, before diving into your pussy with his tongue. He licks all the way up your folds, taking a hand and spreading them apart. He pushes his tongue up into your passage, tongue fucking you as his nose nudges against your clit and causing you to squirm.

“Please,” you whine, as you push into him harder, seeking more stimulation, which he’s quick to give to you.

He wastes no time collecting your slick with two of his fingers, pushing them into you roughly. The cold of his fingers inside of you causes you to gasp. He takes your clit into his mouth, sucking as his tongue presses down hard on it. You let out a mewl, feeling your end approaching fast. It’s like everything feels so much sharper in this dream, as if you feel even more than usual.

He curves his fingers up, brushing against that spongy spot inside of you, and that’s enough to push you over the edge. You gasp as you clench down hard around his fingers, and Shigaraki doesn’t stop his relentless movements. He continues to suck your clit through your orgasm, tasting your release on his tongue as his fingers drill into your now soaking pussy. He coaxes you into a second directly after your first, causing you to squeal and go limp as your head falls back onto your pillow.

“Such a good girl for me.” He sits up with a dark smile on his face. “But since we’re so familiar with each other now, why don’t you call me Tomura?” You lift your head up and glance at him, but he’s simply giving you a neutral look while waiting for your response. You see no harm in it, so you shrug. “I guess I can do that.”

His eyes flash as he hears you agree, and a smile crosses his face. “Good, because I want that name to be the one you scream once I’m inside of you.” You shiver at his words, excitement rising up in you. Sad that it’s been so long since you’ve gotten laid that you’re excited for dream sex, you muse to yourself. You hear a snicker from beside you and choose to ignore it.

You feel the bed sink down a little, as Tomura climbs into bed with you. He puts one hand on each side of your head, straddling you on the bed. You are surprised to see that he looks more solid, less as if you can see all the way through him.

He leans down to claim your mouth again, this kiss no less passionate than the last one. He kisses you as if he means to dominate your mouth with his own, hand coming up to tighten slightly on your throat.

He nudges your legs a bit further apart with his thigh before settling himself fully in between them. He reaches between your bodies to pump his painfully hard cock in his fist, rubbing it up your soaking folds to nudge against your tender clit. “Tell me you want it, pet,” he whispers in your ear.

You let out a loud whine, trying to grind yourself down on his cock. He responds by grabbing your waist tightly, holding you firmly in place. “I can stay here forever until you beg,” a dark look crosses his face, “what about you?”

You whimper and push against his hold, still trying to impale yourself on him to get some relief for your aching pussy. “You’re so needy.” He leans down to nip at your neck, causing you to lift up your chin to give him better access. “I can help you with that.” He begins to suck on your skin, hard enough that it would leave hickies in any other circumstance.

He reaches down to your soaked folds, collecting your juices and using them to rub tight circles across your clit. You let out a moan of pleasure at finally getting his fingers where you want them. You let out a long, plaintive whine when he stops suddenly. “Please,” you finally open your mouth to say.

“Please, what,” he smirks, “I don’t know what you want unless you tell me.”

“Please touch me again,” you try to rub yourself against his fingers to get more stimulation. He completely pulls away, only to start trailing his fingers down your thigh. “Is this where you want to be touched?”

“No,” you plead, “please touch my pussy. I need you to fuck me.”

His hand continues to trail down your thighs, further away from your heated core. “Hmm, do you think that’s good enough, pet?”

You wrack your brain for what answer he is looking for, before finally settling on “please Tomura, I want you.” For a second, his gaze turns satisfied, calculating, and his shape seems to get even more solid than it was earlier.

You start to wonder why, before he begins to push his length into you, as cold as the rest of him. Then all thoughts are lost by the startling feeling of the cold against your warm walls, the contrast feeling amazing inside of you. You let out a loud mewl at his thickness stretching your pussy out, as he sinks inch by inch inside you.

He lets out a groan of pleasure as he fully sheathes himself inside you, giving a slight pause to kiss down your neck and allow you to adjust to his size. He begins at a slow pace, until he feels you wrap your legs around his back, trying to get him to move faster inside of you. “I need more, Tomura, please,” you beg.

“Who am I to deny you when you beg so cutely,” he chuckles as his pace increases, hips slamming against yours. He leans down to nibble and bite at your nipples as he tweaks the other one between his fingers, alternating between them.

He reaches one hand between your body to start rubbing your clit, causing you to clench hard around his length. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he curses under his breath as he continues to move inside you.

He lifts your hips up a bit to change angle as he continues to slam into you, seeking that spot that he knows will make you come undone around his cock. The sound of skin slapping against skin and your gasps and moans fill the room.

He reaches down to grip your neck without even slowing his pace inside you, still in that same hold he’s been using, with his middle finger raised from your neck. “Admit that you’re mine,” he growls darkly. Your eyes widen at the possessiveness in his tone, a sliver of unease running down your back. You shake your head no, only for him to slam into you all the way to the cervix, pleasure and pain warring inside you.

You begin to feel the room get colder, dropping degree after degree and causing you to shiver from the cold. His grin turns menacing as he puts more pressure on your neck, making it hard to breathe but not enough to cut your air off completely. “Say it,” he hisses, “tell me you’re mine.” One hand of yours flies up to his, intending to try and pry him off. The room starts to spin from lack of oxygen, and you beat your fist against his chest.

He loosens his grip just enough for you to take a huge gasping breath of air. When you say nothing, he moves to put his hands back around your neck. “Wait” you shout. He pauses, his expression turning predatory as he waits for your next words.

Even if this is simply a dream, you can feel the sense of danger from admitting this. You don’t know where this certainty comes from, but you can feel it down to your bones. But you also feel the danger of not admitting it. The two desires war within you, fighting to be the victor.

“I’m yours, Tomura,” you breathed out. His red eyes flash with delight, with a sense of dark triumph that makes you instantly regret your decision to say the words.

“Finally,” he snarled as his hips begin to snap into you again. He is even harder and rougher than before, his hands gripping you tightly as he fucks you with wild abandon. Two fingers reach down to press hard on your clit and you feel another orgasm approaching quickly.

“I want you to say my name as you cum around my cock,” he growls as he changes his angle slightly, the new position causing you to let out a wail as you tighten hard on his cock and dig your heels into his back.

“Fuck, Tomura” you cry out, as liquid fire courses through you. His hips stutter at the feeling of your pussy fluttering around his cock, and he reaches his own end, cold seed flooding into your womb.

You both lay there for a second, trying to catch your breath, when you hear the distant sound of an alarm blaring. He lets out a dangerous growl, clutching you to his chest as if he could prevent the alarm from taking you away from him. “You won’t be getting away from me much longer,” is the last thing you hear before you wake up.

~~~~

You sit bolt upright in bed gasping, still throbbing from the remnants of an orgasm. Your eyes dart around the room, looking for Tomura, only to find nothing. The room is empty, looking the same as it did before you went to sleep. The doors and windows are back, and the suffocating presence you felt before has lessened.

God, that was one intense dream. You had never had such a lucid dream before, one that felt so completely real that it was hard to come to terms with it now that you are awake. You roll over to turn your blaring alarm off and wince in pain. You feel strangely sore, as if you slept wrong in the night. Feeling sweaty and gross, you let out a deep sigh and get up to take a shower.

After your shower, you go back into your bedroom to get dressed. You glance at the floor length mirror as you walk past, before doing a double take and turning back around to look again. You startle a bit when you see that your neck is covered in bruises and hickies. You think back to your friend during your makeout session the other night, and mentally curse him for getting too rough.

But as you glance down, you also see handprints on the side of both of your hips. You stare at them for a long time, trying to place what happened. The asshole grabbed me pretty hard when he threw me off him the other night, you reason. He obviously must have been too rough, and you resolve to admonish him later on the whole incident. You give a silent nod to yourself, confident in your reasoning.

If only you could forget that the handprint bruises have a single finger not visible on your skin.

~~~~

That day passes uneventfully, although you can’t stop thinking of the dream you had. Or the bruises on your neck. Or the handprints with only 4 fingers. You know you’re being ridiculous, that you have a logical explanation for the whole thing. But that doesn’t stop the anxiety, the worry, from building up in you.

You are also unable to reach your friend in order to give him the chewing out that he is desperately owed. You can’t figure out if he’s ignoring you, or just busy, but you’re getting absolutely no response.

You resolve to work on the house more, to distract yourself. You are still going from room to room, organizing things, separating things into keep piles, donation piles, and trash piles. You have finally worked your way into your grandma’s office and library, a place you were never able to go into before.

You stare in wonder the first time you go through those doors, unable to figure out where to look first. The room is huge, and filled with floor to ceiling books. An ornate, antique looking desk sits in the back of the room, and the windows to the left side of the desk let in the sunlight so that the room doesn’t feel overly dark.

I really wish she had let me come in here before, you think, because this room is absolutely amazing. And then reality hits you, as you let out a groan. It’s also going to take me forever to look through all this.

You venture around the library and see a varied mix of books. There is everything from classic literature and non-fiction textbooks to romance and murder mysteries. But then you come to a strange section, closest to her desk. It’s full of books about witchcraft and spells, ghosts and demons, books with titles you can’t even begin to understand and that only hurt your head to try. It’s confusing to you why your grandma would even have some of these books, but you suppose she has a little of everything in this library.

You head to the desk, sitting down in the chair before opening up the drawers. Sitting in the top of the first drawer you open are two things. One is a plain spiral bound notebook. The other is a book about ghosts. Specifically, about how to banish them. The book has clearly been well used, the spine well broken in and several bookmarks still inside.

You pause for a second before opening the notebook to the first page. In it, you find a detailed recounting of the malevolent spirit living within the house. Your own grandma’s account. You can barely comprehend everything, so many details and actions taken.

And then you come across the entry around the time of your visit years ago. You read about your grandma’s fear of you being there. The increasing obsession the ghost, Tomura Shigaraki, had of you. And her final decision to send you back, away from the ghost.

This information answers some questions and raises so many more. Your grandma was a witch. Ghosts and spirits exist. And one is obsessed with you. So obsessed, in fact, that your grandma feared for you to the point that she barely had anything to do with you after that. You wonder if she felt that staying away from you was for your own protection.

You pick the book up about banishment, hoping to find more answers, and open it to one of the bookmarks. Inside is a detailed banishment and saging ritual, used to weaken ghosts. Turning a few pages back, you look to see if it mentions what signs you should be watching for, any hints that you have a ghost obsessed with you. You don’t doubt what you read from your grandma, but a part of you is still in denial, hoping that this is all an elaborate story.

You finally find the correct page and do some reading. Unexplained sounds and feelings, check. Seeing things that aren’t there, check. Your heart stops for a second at the next section. Strange and intense dreams, including ones of a sexual nature. Definite check. Unexplained marks and bruises on your body.

You stop reading at that point, thinking back to the dream. The bruises. Those handprints. The raised fingers. You feel a chill run down your spine, the room getting noticeably colder. No matter how much you try to rationalize it, something feels off about the whole thing. You turn the page back to the description of the saging, and it looks easy enough for you to handle. And really, what can it hurt?

~~~~

You glance around at the circle of objects you had laid out around you. You feel like you should be feeling very silly right now. But you just don’t. There is this sense of impending doom you have in your bones, and yet not enough to blatantly run from the house. You have obligations here, a responsibility to your grandma. Even if this is you being silly, it will hopefully give you peace of mind.

You had found plenty of sage and salt in one of your grandmother’s cupboards. You had opened up the majority of the windows that could actually be opened so that energy could leave, and also to air the house out from the sage. You had laid out and started lighting some white candles throughout the house. And you had a bowl to catch the ash from the burning sage stick, and another bowl filled with salt.

You read in the book that you needed to light the sage and walk from room to room with it, spreading the smoke around and paying special attention to outer walls of the house where negative energy could come in. The book also said that spreading a line of salt around entryways and windows also helped to keep things out.

You decide to start in your bedroom, since that’s where the most extreme of the incidents happened. You have candles lit and salt laid in there already, so all you need is to light the sage and say the words.

As you go to grab the lighter, the lights of the house start to flicker, and the atmosphere in the air grows heavy and intense. You feel like someone is staring right into you, all the way down to your soul, and that they are not pleased. The entire house seems to take on a life of its own, as if furious with what you’re about to do.

Before you have a chance to panic, you light the sage. You move all the way around the room, holding the sage up to the corners of the room, and you feel the pressure lessen just a bit. "I cast the circle thrice about to keep the evil spirits out,” you begin to say, in as powerful of a voice as you can muster.

You leave the bedroom, going room to room in the upstairs part of the house, making sure no part is untouched. “Earth, Wind, Fire and Sea.” The furious stare is lessening and the house itself seems to be settling.

Finally, you make your way downstairs to the front entrance, the last place of the house that you haven’t gone through. You spread the smoke of the sage around this area as well, before finally saying the words to close things out. “As I will so, mote it be!" You put the sage out.

It feels like everything stops all at once. You hear an anguished scream coming from the living room, and you quickly rush that way. In the mirror your friend saw him in before, you now see him too.

He’s wearing the same outfit he was in your dream, but there is no sense of the smug, triumphant man you felt. Instead, he looks furious. Clawing at the inside of the mirror like he is in pain. And then he suddenly starts to fade, getting more and more see through until he finally vanishes entirely.

And then suddenly, the house feels like a house again. No presence, no pressure, no eyes feeling like they’re watching you. You breathe a sigh of relief as you realize that it worked. The house has never felt so light, so clear the entire time you’ve been here.

It seems to have taken a lot out of you however, leaving you feeling exhausted and hungry. You quickly make something to eat before heading to bed.

Good, you think to yourself as you walk up the stairs to your bedroom. Whatever this was is over now and I can finally finish things here in peace. He’s gone.

~~~~

You wake up slowly, feeling strangely weak and groggy. Something feels wrong, and you try to pinpoint what it is. You recall doing the saging ritual, feeling like it worked, before fixing yourself some quick dinner and heading to bed. Everything seemed fine when you went to sleep.

You try to get up, to look around, but you find that you can’t move at all. Panic hits as you try desperately to move something, anything. But you are completely paralyzed. Your head throbs and the room seems to spin the harder you try to move.

You attempt to slow your breathing, to concentrate and think through your situation, and then you notice it. You went to sleep curled up on your side, as usual, but you’re not laying like that anymore. You’re on all fours on the bed, head pressed down against the mattress, back arching upwards.

You feel movement from behind you, and you find that you are able to lift your head just enough to glance back. Instinctively, you know what you’re going to see. Who you’re going to see.

Dawning horror rises in you as your fears are confirmed, that the movement behind you is coming from the man of your dream, Tomura Shigaraki, and that he is buried to the hilt inside you. You make a strangled noise in the back of your throat as you feel yourself clenching around the hard cock that is stretching you out.

“Ah, finally awake? Took you long enough, he chuckles maliciously. “The man of your dream, huh?” He pulls all the way out of you, only to slam roughly back in, wrenching a scream from you. “Sounds so romantic.”

He leans in to whisper a question into your ear. “Want to know a secret?” You want so badly to tell him no, to wake up from this nightmare, but you know there is no option.

“It was never a dream, my little plaything.” His tone is so full of sinister glee that you find yourself shivering.

You feel overwhelmed that this has already happened once before, that you were too stupid to realize it was never simply a dream.

He grabs your hips roughly and begins to set a slow pace inside you. “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it,” he hisses out, “like you didn’t beg me to fuck you.”

Shame burns your face, and you bury your face into the pillow to try and hide your sobs. But Shigaraki simply coils his fingers inside your hair and jerks backwards. The action forces your back to arch, his cock burying even deeper inside you.

Despite yourself, you feel heat pooling in your core from his rough handling and the feeling of his thick cock sliding against your inner walls.

You let out a broken moan as he speeds up, his hips snapping into your backside, balls smacking against your clit and filling the room with the wet noises of skin slapping against skin. A coil inside you is building, and you want more than anything to squirm away. But there is no give in whatever power he has you under, and you’re forced to simply take the pleasure.

He runs a cold hand up and down your back, digging nails into the skin as the other hand trails around to where your bodies are joined. He begins to furiously rub your clit, tight and fast circles that leave you gasping and gripping at the bed sheets under your hands.

You feel your juices dripping from you, drenching his cock and making it easy for him to slide in and out of your quivering cunt. Being unable to move is only heightening all of your other senses, and you can feel every vein on the cock inside you.

You feel yourself rapidly tightening up, your orgasm quickly approaching. You let out a loud whine as you find yourself pushing back against him, seeking more friction in spite of yourself.

“You’re about to cum, aren’t you?” He barks out a laugh. “Do it then, cum all over my cock.”

At his words, you instantly cum hard, as if your body is obeying his command. He fucks you through your orgasm before pulling out and flipping you over.

He pulls you into his lap before entering you again as your pussy is still fluttering around his cock. This new position lets him thrust up into you, the new angle causing him to slam into a spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

His pace doesn’t even slow as he begins to kiss at your neck, nipping and sucking hard as he leaves bruises down the column of your neck. His fingers begin to stroke your aching clit yet again, and you let out a shameless moan.

“Please stop,” you whimper, “too sensitive.” You feel wrung out, the room seeming to spin just a bit, and you’re not sure how much more you can take.

He ignores you, gripping your hips to hold you in place as he pounds into you. You glance down at the cock disappearing inside you, and you flush with embarrassment as you see that his length is glistening with your juices.

His pace becomes erratic, thrusts starting to stutter, and you know that he’s getting close too. “Mine, mine, mine,” he chants as he finally finishes inside you with a loud groan. The feeling of cold spreading through your core is enough to push you over yet again, and you collapse against his shoulder in sheer exhaustion.

Tears run down your face as you ask him the question you’ve been wondering. “I thought I banished you.”

His chest rumbles with his laughter. “No, little plaything. Your grandmother was a powerful witch and knew what she was doing.” You stiffen up at his words.

He leans down to lick at the shell of your ear. “You, however, are weak and know nothing.”

“But then, why did you…” you trail off as it finally hits you. You let out a choked sob. “You were faking it.”

He simply smirked at you. You suddenly can’t breathe. The room is spinning even more, your head feeling like it’s going to split open. You push away from him and are surprised when he lets you.

You back away slowly, grabbing your pajamas from the floor and throwing them on. You keep an eye on him the entire time, but he doesn’t move. He simply looks at you.

You don’t know why he’s simply letting you and you don’t care. You turn around and start running.

Fuck the house, you thought, fuck your stuff, fuck everything. You have to get out while you still can. You don’t know what else Shigaraki will do to you if you stay. And...your poor grandmother. Now you know why she never moved out of the house. She stayed here for years to protect people, to protect you.

You don’t take time to pack things. In a blind panic, you run through the hallways of the house, down the stairs, making a beeline to the door. The headache you were feeling from before intensifies. As you make it to the final stair, a wave of weakness and dizziness overcomes you. You barely keep yourself upright as you grip the banister. You push yourself to the wall, using it to prop yourself up, as you take two more steps.

But the weakness is too much, and your knees buckle. You fall to the floor hard, the room spinning around you wildly. Oh god, what’s wrong with me? You begin to panic, trying to take huge gulps of air, but breathing has become so hard.

You can’t let this stop you from getting out of the house, you have to get out now. You roll yourself over onto your stomach, determined to drag yourself to the door if need be.

And then you see him. Shigaraki. He appears more solid than earlier, leaning against a doorframe with the biggest triumphant smirk you have ever seen on his face.

“Not feeling so good, are we?”

You freeze in your quest to drag yourself up as you stare at him. He begins to walk towards you, slowly, deliberately, Making you feel like prey. Like you’re being hunted

“What did you do to me?” you whisper in fear. You know deep down what is happening to you, but you don’t truly want to admit it. Want to be in denial. Want him to tell you nothing is wrong.

He lets out a twisted laugh, ignoring your question entirely. “Do you know how boring it was, with nothing but that pathetic old woman to keep me company for years? She was just familiar enough with poltergeists to guard against me, but not enough to banish me entirely.”

You had no idea your grandmother knew anything at all about spirits until you found all those books in her library, read her notes. You certainly hadn’t.

“But then you showed up at her doorstep, needing a place to stay. You intrigued me from the start. A naive little thing who had no idea what she was stepping into. And your grandmother knew that. She knew I was becoming obsessed. That I wanted to corrupt you.”

Corrupt you, you think dimly, thinking of the event just earlier. The one that started your mad dash to get out of the house. Waking up and being unable to move. Held down by his power and forced to feel pleasure you didn’t want as he took you. You shiver at the thought, revulsion and lust warring with each other.

“That’s why she sent you away from me. And that’s why I killed her.”

It feels like your heart stops beating for a second. Tears start flowing from your eyes and running down your face. “...You killed her? She died because of me?”

Your muscles cramp harshly, causing you to let out a sharp gasp of pain. You try to scoot back from the malignant ghost that is approaching you, the murderous ghost that took the last of your family from you. But you’re too tired and too dizzy to manage it. You lay your head back against the floor.

“Yeah, I killed her,” he lets out a harsh laugh. “And yeah, that’s why she died. I warned her of the consequences of what would happen if she didn’t bring you back. She didn’t listen.”

A haze is descending over your eyes. Everything is becoming distant, except for Shigaraki’s form, his voice, his words.

“And then, after what I did to get you back here, you were going to try and get rid of me,” he growls in a low, dangerous tone. “You don’t seem to understand that you belong to me.”

He approaches where you lay, immobilized, unable to do anything but watch as he slowly sits down on the floor beside you. He reaches over, grabbing your body and situating it into his lap in a princess carry.

Your muscles convulse, your head spins, and you find yourself whimpering from the pain. He grins as he runs his fingers through your hair, making his way down your jawline to cup your face.

“You’re dying, little pet. And quickly, at that. The things you can find in old houses is truly amazing. Like the arsenic I found in a forgotten corner of the basement.”

Your veins turn to ice, the haze clouding your mind lifting just a bit. The terror pushes all other emotions out, as if you’re a being of pure fear and panic, as if you’ve never known anything else.

Your eyes widen and you try to shake your head, before the dizziness forces you to stop. “No no no, please no. Please tell me you’re joking, trying to scare me.”

He huffs out a soft laugh. “Would I joke about this? It’s true. I sensed you might do something stupid and I was right. I slipped the poison into your food after you tried to weaken me.”

You try to push away, to get out of his arms, but you’re too weak. He simply puts a bit more pressure into his hold to keep you in place. The mere effort is enough to leave you panting for breath.

“What do you mean to accomplish? If I’m dead…”. Your stomach cramps again, harder this time, and your sentence cuts out in a pained gasp.

He gives a truly wicked laugh, and his lips curl up in a smirk. “If you’re dead, you’re trapped here. Just like I am.”

More tears roll down your face. “I don’t wanna die,” you whimper, “and I don’t want to be stuck here with you.” It’s hard to keep your eyes open any more. They begin to slowly close as the room darkens.

He shifts you further into his lap, stroking his hands through your hair and kissing the tears running down your face. The gentle gesture is so at odds with the fact that he’s the one killing you.

“You have no choice in the matter,” he chuckles, “it’s happening whether you want it or not. It was only a matter of time anyway, you just sped up my timeline.”

Your muscles begin to seize up, and seeking some sort of comfort from the pain, you turn your head into the chest of your murderer. “I hate you,” you whimper, before grasping his hoodie, burying your face into it to muffle your crying.

His arms wrap around you more solidly, hand coming around the back of your head to cradle it. “That’s okay, pet. I have all the time in the world to make you love me.” The last thing you hear before your eyes close for the final time is Shigaraki whispering in your ear “after all, we’ll be together forever.”

~~~~

Tag: @monst, @secondhand-trash, @animewh0re, @thewheezingwyvern, @legend-of-frost, @mothwithteeth, @mhafanfics19, @kazooli, @lildreamer93, @yaoyorozuwrites, @dee-madwriter

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beomglocks · 4 years

Text

terror ave. ; c.bg

warnings and other: um?, theres a serial killer, murder is mentioned, nothing too detailed, not proofread bc i wrote this at 4am

"we advise everyone to be in complete lockdown as there have seemed to have been reports of a serial killer gone loose in the area. so far no one has been injured but we suggest taking extra precautions tonight. please do not go outside during this time. lock your doors, close your windows, and turn off all the ligh-"

frowning, you look down at the tub of ice cream situated in between your legs. you lick the ice cream from your spoon as the rest of the news report gets drowned out by your thoughts. wait- shit i think i forgot to lock the back door... you shrug. you forgot that you had invited your neighbor beomgyu over, earlier in the day. he had insisted that he had a cool new pokemon to show you on his switch and you, stupidly, allowed him to show you. to your dismay, it only turned out to be a measly skwovet.

"gyu, you can literally catch these at route 1. you know, in the beginning of the game?" you had told him with a disappointed look on your face. "you're on your 5th gym."

he had gasped in offense, bringing his switch closer to his chest to shield the creature from further judgment. "y/n how dare you! it's the cutest pokemon in the game so of course, i went back to get one. don't you think you're being too mean?"

you giggled to yourself remembering the little back and forth. you've been living alone in your current house for only a couple of months. you were surprised your parents let you move out and have a whole house in the suburbs to yourself considering how strict and overprotective they were. upon moving, you quickly befriended choi beomgyu, the literal boy next door. he had offered to help you get your couch through the door and proceeded to eat his melting chocolate bar on said couch. from then on you and him have been best friends ever since, sometimes having him sleepover or vise versa.

you weren't worried about some rando serial killer in your neighborhood since nothing ever happened to you. you were convinced you weren't the main character.

from your couch, you looked outside to see that beomgyu's lights were already turned off. he must've gone to sleep early. your eyes catch the clock on your wall and you subconsciously yawn when you see how late it is. 1:56 am? damn... i should probably go to sleep too.

you pick up the tub of ice cream and take it back to your kitchen. its fucking chilly in here. you rub your arms as goosebumps start to form on them. you peek around the corner of the wall dividing your kitchen to where the back door is located. it's slightly cracked open and that raises some bit of concern in your head. again, you shrug. you remember beomgyu leaving out the back door since he liked coming in from the back instead of the front. an odd quirk of his that you never got to question him about because every time you tried he would simply smile at you cutely and say something like "its cool that's why."

you walk over to the door while being cautious about where you step since your house was pretty messy. you shut the door and sigh, dragging your body towards the living room again to turn the tv off. the news reporter was just about to give more instructions but frankly, you're too tired to care.

now that the tv was turned off you felt a weird sense of loneliness. the white noise being emitted from the screen becoming a bit too deafening to your ears to handle. you switch the tv off properly and toss the remote somewhere on the couch.

you walk up to your bedroom while scrolling through your Instagram feed. you laugh at the caption of beomgyu's latest post because it's alluding to the argument you both had earlier and type a comment hoping that he'll have time to read it when he wakes up.

when you reach your bedroom you toss your phone haphazardly on your bed and flop yourself into the sheets. today was fairly unproductive but that's been the premise of your days lately. you wonder how you manage to do absolutely nothing yet feel the weight of 10 thousand bricks on you back.

you sigh as you feel yourself slowly drift off to sleep but a noise in the room next door startles you. if you had been fully asleep you probably wouldn't have heard it but you're sure you heard a noise even in your half-asleep state. you sit up in your bed pulling the sheets closer to you. you decide to hold your breath in case you hear another noise or if you're just being delusional and sleep-deprived.

you wait for a while and after 5 minutes you don't hear anything. you sigh quietly but before you can settle back and get back to sleep you hear another noise. ok, you know for sure you have no roommates and beomgyu always tells you he's coming over before he does. the room you're hearing the noises from is the storage room where you keep all the extra furniture and miscellaneous items that you haven't had the chance to use or set up yet so nothing should be moving in there. you also recall the movers checking the house for any squatters since that seemed to be more common than most people would think. that day you had been happy and relieved to know that there was none of that in the house.

a thought crosses your mind that it could be the serial killer that's on the loose currently. if that's the case then the killer is in your house, a few feet away, in a room that has old kitchen knives that you decided don't need to be displayed.

you stare at your door while reaching for your phone. you can hear the person walking around the room and dragging the knives across the wall in a menacing manner and that's when the anxiety finally kicks in. your eyes start filling up with tears at the thought of a deranged serial killer being just a couple feet away from you, literally a wall away.

you feel your phone graze your hand and grab it shakily, slowly getting up from your bed. you don't wanna call anyone right now since the walls are thin, the killer might hear you then it's really game over. once you get to your bedroom door, you push it open so painfully slowly that you just wanna sob right there. you hate that something like this is seriously happening to you.

the killer doesn't seem to be out in the open yet. you figure they're still deep in the storage room. that gives you some time to get out of your house and maybe run to a police station or something. you walk out into the hall and cautiously walk down the stairs hoping they won't do that annoying thing where they creak in intense moments. thankfully though, you make it down the stairs.

immediately, you bolt out of your house. you don't know why but you have the sudden idea to ask beomgyu for help. you run to his house and ring the door repeatedly, you don't care if you're being annoying. you look back at your own house and all the lights are still turned off except for your bedroom lights which you left on. hopefully, the killer isn't persistent and won't come looking for you. you turn back to beomgyu's door and keep ringing the doorbell hoping his ass will wake up since you know he's a heavy sleeper. "come on, come on. fucking choi beomgyu, come on!" you whisper anxiously.

suddenly the door swings open and an angry but half asleep beomgyu is standing there. his hair is disheveled and his face is scrunched up in confusion and drowsiness. you push past him and jump on his couch covering yourself with one of his pillows. "y/n? what the fuck are you doing. it's like 2 am?" he shuts the door, walking over to you.

"is everything locked? the windows? the door just now?" you look up at him, biting your lip. "yes everything is locked and look," you watch him walk back to the front door and lock it. "now the door is locked. mind telling me why you bum-rushed into my house at the ass crack of dawn?"

"gyu-" you can't even manage to get a proper sentence out because a broken sob leaves your mouth rather than words. you walk up to him and hug him tightly. you don't care that you're probably soaking his t-shirt with your tears, you need him to know that you really care about him and you were almost permanently separated from him today. "y/n?"

"gyu t-the killer. the s-serial killer! he's in m-my house right now," you sob even harder into his shirt and you're glad he feels warm because those 2 minutes of ringing his doorbell out there made you almost freeze to death. especially since you're only wearing your pjs which consisted of a t-shirt and short shorts.

you feel him hug you back and you sigh shakily as he rubs your back to comfort you. "y/n," he says simply. you pull away from him, which you immediately regret because you start to feel cold again. "w-we need to call the police," you wipe your tears harshly but to no avail, since they just keep falling against your will.

you take your phone from your pocket and start to dial but beomgyu takes your phone from you and pockets it into his sweats. "y/n, i've never seen you cry. you look so pretty when you cry," he leans closer to your face and you flinch when he brings his hand up to caress your cheek before wiping a stray tear from it.

"gyu, we need t-to call the police! it's not the time f-for games. give me my phone please," you move his hand away from your face and motion for him to give your phone back. he chuckles right in your face, mockingly.

"please, she says."

you watch expectantly as he takes your phone out of his pocket but feel your heart drop with it as he lets it fall to the floor with a deafening crack. if that wasn't enough, you watch in disbelief as he stomps on it with force, effectively rendering it useless.

your eyes start to fill with tears again and the sinking feeling that beomgyu isn't gonna help you starts to settle. "w-why," you blubber. you fall to the ground in defeat and confusion. you don't even have the strength to run to the door to get proper help because you felt you had no energy after watching beomgyu turn his back on you.

"ever since you moved here i've had my eye on you. i really like you y/n. scratch that, i love you y/n. the other girl that lived in the house before you was boring so i had her killed off within the first week of her moving here. i mean she was pretty but you're gorgeous, i like you much more." he lifts you off the ground and examines your face to see how your taking in this information. you can't even speak because of the burning sensation in your throat from trying to hold back your tears so hard.

"i bailed that asshole killer out of jail and hired him to kill people for me," he continues. "didn't actually wanna get my hands dirty."

he moves you to sit on the couch as if this is just another normal conversation between friends. it finally clicks in your head what's happening and you stand up and snap at him. "what the fuck gyu? i thought you were just a regular person what the fuck is wrong with you!" you begin to walk to the front door but he grabs you with a force you've never felt him use before.

"y/n really? i've been protecting you this whole time!" you can sense that his patience is thinning. "all this time! when we walked to the store and those guys catcalled you, i had them killed. that guy that hit on you in our seminar class, he's gone!" he smiles wickedly and you hate the fact that he still looks like your adorable best friend.

"y/n you're the only for me. im sorry i scared you but i knew if the serial killer went to your home you'd come running to me," you feel him rubbing your hand soothingly and you pull away from him with disgust.

"don't touch me! i'm going to the police, this is fucking sick." before you can even reach the door you hear something click. you feel a cold metal around your wrist and when you look down you see that beomgyu has handcuffed you to the door. "you're not leaving y/n, do i really have to do this to you? i've been waiting for months just for you to run away?" he whispers.

"beomgyu let me go right now," you seethe. the anxiety you felt before is only heightened when you look around and catch someone leaving from your house. "beomgyu please," you resort to petty pleads.

he pouts at you, "don't worry y/n i'm not gonna hurt you, i would never." he gives you a tender kiss on your forehead before standing up again.

"i just want you to myself that's all."

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onlyhereforangst · 4 years

Text

WWR

i mean i only had three weeks to get it done so naturally i’m finishing it three days before the next ep airs, would you expect anything less?

Ok we start off hot with a subtly jealous Nick scene and I love it. Ellie is like stunned that such a thing even exists “a covid crush” because lets be honest, she probably has no eyes for anyone else at this point - even if it’s been a YEAR (well 10ish months) a whole ass YEAR since the jail cell scene and can I just tell you I am mad about that. Why they do us dirty and skip a whole dang year?? Why can’t we quick flash forward every couple of months?? I mean I know it has felt like an entire year has gone by in a week, RIP 2020 no one will miss you, but like I wanted to see it 😩 and I better get at least some kind of explanation for whatever the F has gone down between these two from “well what are we gonna to about that as we stand 5 inches apart” to now. I demand this explanation.

Anyways, back on track here - Nick is jealllllllous BUT different kind of jealous for this man because for once he’s not all dark and broody about it. He’s over here willingly, *willingly* bringing up said jealousy aaaand he’s smiling about it (!!!) because despite them still not being together (where’s the Gibbs’ headslap when you actually need it amiright) he’s not worried about this crush. He knows her feelings and his so it’s like yeah I’m a little jealous but also I’m gooood, I got this one in the bag 😏 (also can I just say I need Ellie to show him he does not in fact ‘have this in the bag’ if he’s gonna act like a little shit and push her away).

This whole thing about babysitting and not wanting to take care of other living beings is very very very interesting considering they both loved taking care of Charlie (Cody, I blame this on pregnancy brain thank you @thekeyboardninja) in the end AND EVEN TALKED ABOUT PARENTING EVENTUALLY. So like, where did we backtrack??? Excuse me who allowed you to do such things. I’m feeling like they likely backtracked (this was s16 after all) because once again, the dust settled after their super close vulnerable moment and they went and hid behind those stupid walls they both have and somehow convinced themselves that being alone was better for them. IT’S A LIE YALL IT’S A LIE. You being together and taking care of each other is exactly what you need and it’ll be perfect and amazing and just DO IT ALREADY 😭

The team moment with Jimmy is so 🥺 and throughout the episode. I’m not going to touch on that stuff much because this is ellick focused but also because I truly do not need to sob again (even if I called Breena dying from covid like months ago and knew exactly what was coming with all of it but you know, I still cry, it’s fine, I’m fine).

Ellie knowing Gibbs uses a weighted blanket and Nick doubting her is just comical to me 😂 mini side note before we get into how they have a thiiiiiing and it’s called always getting dibs on the elevator in tandem for months and McGee HOW CAN YOU NOT TELL. These two are so in sync even if they are still spectacularly failing at talking this out & taking that next step. Also months of Gibbs riding down the elevator with just those two…….the third wheeling must be slowly killing the old dude, give him a break you two.

Tell me why these two have the exact same stance in the bullpen- could you be more obvious?? You rubbing off on each other. And then the walking up to the barbershop scene I caaaan’t. Ellie is SO flirty. Like so flirty. Who is this new Ellie and why do I love her so much. But Nick gives it right back too and her little giggle with shoulder shrug is just perfect. She’s fiiiiinally letting herself *feel* more and let it be out in the open and it’s just so great. I love seeing this character development for her 🥺 walls coming down, being more forward with her flirting and feelings and it’s all I’ve ever needed. Also we’re gonna take a small detour into Nick’s pants I mean the notebook he casually stashes in the front of his jeans like it doesn’t make a person look RIGHT. THERE. Don’t ask me why it’s hot, I don’t know the answers to the universe, it just is. We knoooooow Ellie is loving it’s location there, she wouldn’t mind flirtatiously taking it out at the next stop to “check” where they needed to go. You know, just helping a partner out- don’t worry Nick she’s got it handled 😏😏🔥🔥 Ok back from our detour, when Nick asks if she’s got him and she answers so quickly and almost with the undercurrent of “of course I do how is that even a question I’ll protect you until the day I die” (yes this is what she says), I love.

Ok since when does Nick like puzzles and how does Ellie know this??? He was most certainly NOT a puzzle kind of guy when he first joined the team so are you telling me that maybe Ellie and her nerdiness (come on there’s no way she doesn’t love puzzles) got Nick into puzzles??? Also also also does everyone remember that time in covid lockdown where literally everyone and their mother did five thousand puzzles because we couldn’t leave our houses? Soooooo is this a nod to Ellie & Nick spending some time together doing puzzles (at presumably Ellie’s apartment because she’d be the one to have said puzzles) and turns out Nick loves them even more than she did???? Is this what you’re making me read in between the lines NCIS? Because I am most certainly ok with this.

Ooooooooh-kay this 8pm thing for Nick. SO many possibilities. It’s been confirmed it wasn’t Ellie (which I won’t lie was my immediate wish) via Steven Binder on twitter (which I also won’t lie, my angst heart loves it’s something else). My take is it’s something (not another girl though) personal- I would *love* if it was therapy or some type of personal development thing. I think he realizes over the past year he has involuntarily retreated emotionally from Ellie even if outwardly it doesn’t show (no personal space and continued flirting). I think he *knows* he’s doing it emotionally and yet can’t figure out how to stop himself from doing it- like on the outside of his body watching him make a dumb mistake but unable to change a damn thing. SO I feel like whatever this 8pm thing is will play into that. It’ll somehow be related to Nick diving deeper into himself and trying to get more in touch with the parts of himself he loves to ignore/hide/push down. That could be therapy, a self-help class, getting in touch with family (but I don’t think he would feel the need to get secretive about this. i mean he already brought up Lucia to this dude, why would he all of a sudden be ashamed of a dinner/meeting with his mom or dad or something? i just don’t buy that). But anyways back to the point- it’s something Nick feels the need to hide in shame because that’s how he’s been conditioned as an undercover agent who feels the need to be tough and strong for everyone and being vulnerable is WAY too scary (helloooooo enneagram 8 nice to meet you I’m also an enneagram 8 Nick isn’t it fun).

I don’t know why them talking so casually on the phone, while Nick is getting ready for the day no less is so damn pleasing to me. The simple domesticity of it all because it’s totally something one would do with their spouse is just 🥰🥰 And then their little freaking smiles can THEY NOT. Ellie you like glazed donuts?? Is this some kind of hint? Innuendo? Just a glaringly obvious chance to flirt and you don’t give a rat’s ass you’re in the middle of the bullpen with Gibbs’ listening to your conversation so you’ll take that chance anyways because you’re head over heels for this guy? Either way Nick’s little smirk oof. I think he takes it as all three of those things and he’s *perfectly* ok with it. UNTIL until, there’s always an until with you Nicholas god damn. Ellie nervously asking about NIck’s apartment 🥺 she may be head over heels but she’s still a little shy and unsure. She thought that jail cell moment would break things through for them and yet she’s- not to quote Taylor swift or anything because why on earth would I do that- right where you left her. WHY NICHOLAS WHY. Since we know Ellie has seen and is very familiar with the inner workings of Nick’s apartment come 16x10, I presume he moved, and it sounds like recently. From the looks of this new place it’s niiiiice. For someone who doesn’t like a lot of things (see s14 when he joins team I don’t remember the exact ep sorry) - he sure managed to settle into that apartment quite nicely. It’s furnished well, it’s homey for DC. And if he’s moved into it since after the jail cell, letting Ellie in is likely a big step in his eyes. But we know this has got to be a weird shift for Ellie. Seemingly so comfortable in each others’ spaces and now she hasn’t even been invited over?? Yeah you smell something fishy girl just like I do. Even if Nick has a cute ass smirk at the end of his little charade to hang up the phone. Wipe that smirk off your face sir you owe us I mean Ellie an explanation and a visit to your apartment. SHE WANTS TO BE YOUR HOUSEGUEST. SHE WANTS TO BE IN YOUR HOUSE. SHE WANTS TO BE IN YOUR PANTS WHILE IN THAT HOUSE. JUST LET HER ALREADY. Ok I’m done, moving on.

Ok the guys opening the doors dramatically to let the one (1) woman on the team make a super badASS entrance is just 🔥🔥🔥 yes love it.

Excuse me why does Ellie feel the need to completely turn her body from the rest of the team/bullpen to be 100% faced on Nick. Body language don’t lie bitch I see you. And Nick stealing a glance at Ellie before having to answer McGee’s question about roommates…..interesting, very interesting sir. You thinking about how she’s going to react to some rando being in your apartment AND staying the night before she has?? You thinking about making her a permanent roommate?? But of course he turns to quick humor for a hot sec because this is Nick and then shockingly, like actually shockingly (is this that personal development, soul-searching, deep dive into emotional wonderland rubbing off on him??? Is it working is this foreshadowing???) he goes and gets deep on ‘em. And McGee calls him on it and I love it, I really think this is some foreshadowing here. I think we’re seeing some of the work Nick is doing on himself, getting himself ready for as serious as a relationship as he knows it’ll be with Ellie, paying off. He’s thinking about ~*emotional*~ consequences to actions and OOF yes. The growth, I live for the fucking growth. “It’s not easy to get through the tough transitions on your own” you say as you literally tried to do that for actual YEARS until you met this team. Until you met Ellie. Until you realized that emotional fallout was a real thing and you my friend are a terrible victim to it. Because guess what- exhibit A is right here about to ask you to dinner and you gonna turn her down. You quite literally tried to get through a tough transition (re: Ellie’s kidnapping & the two bombs) by yourself. That dust settled and you immediately emotionally retreated, not physically- emotionally. You went back to what you always knew, the lone wolf on your own, endure the tough transition. And yes you’ve been doing some work on yourself, but now- now you realize it. You can’t do work on yourself alone. You can’t go through this shit alone. You need your support system- your person. But that thought truly terrifies you. You’ve realized it but are you ready to act on it? Not quite yet. You might be close, but you still can’t bring yourself to be honest with her yet. When Ellie nervously asks Nick if he wants to grab a bite you can feel her start to (it’s probably been there quite a while but she’s tried to ignore the feeling of him emotionally shutting her out and pushing her away but the houseguest thing brought it back full force) really worry about where they stood. She won’t completely admit it to herself because she knows what was said in the jail cell wasn’t a lie or a dramatization for either of them, but that worry that’s been creeping in like a vine is taking hold. Nick saying “there’s something I need to take care of” hmmmmm I feel like this is SO vague. And probably purposely done so by the writers but I just - if it was solely him bringing the dude back to his daughter’s why wouldn’t he just tell Ellie that? What would be the harm in her knowing this? She’s aware you’ve bonded so why would he not just say that? I feel like there was definitely something else he thought he would go do after it. With all the talk of tough transitions and then his obviously pre-made plans to drop this guy off, I just feel like there was some other task he had planned before McGee called him. And him discussing the reset button (I’ll get to this) just kind of solidifies that for me. He’d been doing a LOT of reflection that day and he had something more major planned, I just wish I knew what 😩 Ok back to Ellie’s response, she’s honestly shocked and a little confused at his ominously vague answer. And I’d wager a tiny bit of hurt is in that expression too. All those vines of worry taking hold? Yeah, that’s why. They even just tightened and made her speechless for a second. The emotional withdrawal she feared was being confirmed in front of her very eyes. Because (at least on our screens) the last time Nick turned down a bite to eat with her? Oh yeah, he was dating fucking Elena. (Once again, I don’t think he’s got another girl but y’all this is the parallel Ellie could easily draw seeing as it was only a few months ago, supposedly.) And he even looks almost guilty about turning her down, like he knows it’s probably hurting her (and their relationship) but he can’t help it. He hates that he’s doing it and the words coming from his mouth (good lord it’s like the end of 17x07 with overprotective/you’re like a sister to me all over again) but he can’t stop it. And then my heart breaks for Ellie when she tries to put on a brave, strong face that claims she isn’t bothered by his rejection yet we all knoooooow 😭😭😭 He gives her a small little “night” and she’s just standing there wondering where the hell she went wrong with this, how she read them all wrong.

Ahhhhh the glorious reset button, ya love to see it. When he claims he has the opposite problem you can see his faraway look in his eye. You know *exactly* what, or better yet who, he’s thinking about in that moment. He knows he has to stop avoiding his emotional growth with Ellie. He knows he has to stop hitting the reset button the second things between them get real. And I think he’s known this for a while now but is finally, finally coming to grips with taking real steps forward. Taking steps to embrace the vulnerability he’s terrified of. Finally putting that reset button away 🥺

Ellie knowing Nick has one tie is just another swoon moment. Yes I could get dirty with that (see my tags on previous gifsets for proof) but like, also this is so real of them? They know so damn much about each other it’s insane. She may not have even been in his apartment yet but she knows he owns one tie. Like- come on. Nick you think you’re emotionally distant from this woman but my god it’s the opposite. You two are so intertwined you don’t even realize it as you chuckle and try once again to avoid thinking about that reset button. And then Jimmy goes and reads that letter and I sob. Yes I sobbed. Like I said not getting into this part because my pregnancy hormones can’t handle this (I’m barely rewatching this part with audio ok). But Jimmy’s words voiced over a shot of ellick…take my heart why don’t you. “To hear a laugh, and know that your life would change for ever” like come ON. First, Jimmy you slay me and second, all I can picture is Ellie chuckling with Nick in the bullpen showing him the clicker settings and Nick loving it. Nick your life would be changed forever in that moment I hope you knew. Ellie, pulling her arm around Nick’s for strength, support, I just-. Despite the turmoil she’s been going through, the doubts and the worry that’s crept in- she still feels it. She still feels love for this man and knows her life was changed forever when she met him. No matter how long she tried to deny it, she knows. And that little piece of her that desperately clings to Nick getting his head out of his ass and opening up emotionally to her, that piece decides to break that sliver of personal space and lean on him for support. She needs to touch him- the man who she can’t picture losing like Jimmy lost Breena. She needs to feel him still there, even if he hasn’t completely realized his life changed forever because of her- she has. Gripping his arm for the comfort it gives in knowing he’s still by her side, his hand brushing hers as an involuntary “I’ve got you” (even a reset button pusher like Nick can’t help his reflexes). The gravity of the fragility of life weighing heavily on them both, they hold each other. They’ve got each other. And good god is that poetry we just need them to actually fucking TALK ABOUT IT 😩😭

I don’t know if I even have side notes but I do appreciate NCIS paying homage to the utter grief this pandemic has been. Jimmy being the one to lose a loved one was quite honestly the perfect scenario to me. It shows just how cruel this pandemic has been, ripping even the most optimistic, happy people down to their knees in grief. It’s something that shouldn’t be glossed over and I do hope they continue to have this arc of struggling with grief throughout the season. I think it is so relatable and refreshing to see played out legitimately on the screen. I don’t want happy, go-lucky stale content. I want something real and something tangible. Yes I love my mindless entertainment, but it’s also nice to see *real* drama on a TV drama. At least, that’s my opinion 🤷🏻‍♀️ I’d apologize but isn’t that why you’re reading this to begin with? 😘😘

#ellick #ncis #wwr #18x07 #torres x bishop

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the-melting-world · 4 years

Text

The Empress | Side A: “Everything”

Art by @markmefistov

~ In which a cheerful mage seeks the counsel of a fluffy magician…

The Trio Appearances: Kipling | Khleo | Ozy

Arcana LI appearances: Asra | Nadia | Muriel

Track Origins: “Everything” by Ben Howard

Not sure if this is the right track? The full album can be found here: The Empress

cw: none

~ 1.7k words

Ozy hoped that time spent with Nadia would clear his head, but even after they had dinner and later, their fill of each other, the grey mage still hadn’t been able to get his afternoon with Kipling out of his mind.

Ozy stared up at a ceiling quilted in sheer panels of fabric. The overlapping panels created a majestic framework, all shimmering in varying shades of fuchsia and indigo. Nadia drew the curtains closed on her circular bed before snuggling up next to Ozy.

As she settled against the pillow, the Countess noticed something somber in Ozy’s profile even in the dim light.

“Oz? Is everything all right?”

He blinked once and turned his head, his expression growing concerned. “I was distant again, wasn’t I? During… when we were…”

Nadia leaned over and gave him a reassuring kiss. “I’m not reprimanding you. I know you enjoyed yourself.”

Ozy grinned rather bashfully. “I did. Thank you for making sure of that.”

Nadia chuckled in the back of her throat. She kissed him again. “You’re welcome…” Then she drew back and said, “But there is something hanging over your head that’s making me worry. Do you want to talk about it?”

Ozy knitted his eyebrows together before exhaling defeatedly. “I keep trying to convince myself that Kip is the one holding onto too much of the past and that’s what is keeping her from progressing, but Nadia, what if it’s me?”

The Countess reached over and moved some hair out of his eyes. “Oh, Oz... look at everything you and Kipling have accomplished in such a short period. What makes you think that you’re holding either of you back?”

Ozy turned toward the ceiling again and closed his eyes. “I figured out early on how to contact the Major Arcana. They tend to give pretty good advice and sometimes I just like to sit in their realms for a change of scenery. But…”

“But what?”

Ozy opened his eyes. “I haven’t been able to locate the Sun. I know that they’re my patron. I’ve tried so many times to find them.”

Nadia was silent for a moment. And then, “What does that have to do with Kipling and Khleo?”

Ozy’s hands came to life as he wondered aloud, “What if there’s information the Sun has that I’m supposed to know? What if I haven’t done my part in locating them and it’s affecting my ability to train Kip? What if–”

Nadia gently pressed Ozy’s hands against his chest with her own. “I don’t think this is about you, Oz. At least not right now. I think it’s about Kipling.”

Ozy’s hands twitched slightly against Nadia’s. “I don’t know what to do or who to go to in order to ask for help.”

“Have you spoken to Asra?”

His hands stilled. Ozy chewed the corner of his lip. “No.”

Nadia patted his chest. “He’s very connected to the Arcana, especially his own, The Magician. Perhaps you should start with him.”

It wasn’t the answer to all of his questions, but Nadia’s suggestion made Ozy’s brain settle. The grey mage took that as a positive sign. He chose not to dwell on it anymore, lest his thoughts take him off into another cycling of what-ifs.

He thanked Nadia and got more comfortable next to her. Then he closed his eyes and waited for sleep.

The next day when Oz’mandias showed up at Asra and Kipling’s shop, it almost seemed as if Asra had been expecting him this whole time. Ozy made sure to arrive when he knew Kip would be busy with making her deliveries around the city.

After Asra let Ozy inside and the grey mage explained his concerns, the magician sighed and said, “I agree with you. The memory of Khleo is still holding Kip back. I think that Kip’s patron is the only one who can help her now.”

Ozy nodded. “Something tells me that the journey will be rough, but we have to get there. I don’t think she can do it on her own.”

“Come with me.” Asra came out from behind the front desk and started closing down the shop. When he and Ozy were outside and he was locking the door, he said, “To be honest, Ozy, I’ve been trying to get Kip an audience with the Empress for a while, but even with the help of my own patron, nothing has come from it. However, Muriel might know where we should start looking. He was the last one to give Kipling a reading.”

Asra and Ozy spent most of the walk to Muriel’s hut in silence. When they entered the woods and the sounds of the city were replaced by a deeper blanket of silence, Asra asked Ozy, “Can you tell me what Khleo was like?”

Ozy didn’t expect the magician to ask that question, but he was happy to give a little insight.

“They were quite friendly! But they would brood a lot. And from what I can tell, they haven’t changed much in that regard.”

Asra slowed down. “What do you mean, from what you can tell? You found them?”

“I did.” Ozy said with a smile.

Asra blinked. “Where? In another realm?”

Ozy shook his head, his beads chirping happily. “Nope. Khleo lives and works right here in Vesuvia. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she and Kipling crossed paths a few times before I showed up. Only, they didn’t know it thanks to their individual experiences with memory loss.”

Asra stopped walking altogether. “Have you told Kipling about this? I feel like she would want to know.”

Ozy stopped as well. He looked over his shoulder at the magician. “Of course she would want to know. And as soon as she learns of Khleo’s whereabouts, she wouldn’t hesitate to abandon her training and instead fixate on seeking them out. Think about what a disaster that would be. Khleo’s not ready for us to intervene on their life. Kipling’s not ready to step away from her training. There are Doors and Rooms that need Kip’s attention before she can go flouncing after Khleo.”

“Ozy,” Asra sighed, “I see what you’re getting at, but I don’t know if that’s fair. Kip’s been hurting this whole time. She needs to reconnect with Khleo at some point.”

“Yes, Asra, I completely agree,” Ozy interjected. “All puzzles deserved to be unscrambled. All equations want to be solved.”

Asra’s eyes darkened. He said coldly, “Kipling is not some damn equation.”

“Timing!” Ozy barked. “It’s about the timing, Asra. That’s the puzzle here. Not my cousin.”

Asra sobered at the serious tone Ozy had taken with him.

After a moment, the grey mage offered a more gentle expression. “You’re going to have to trust me on this one. Bringing Khleo and Kipling face to face right now is not a good idea.”

Asra clenched his jaw, but decided to back off. He gestured ahead of them. “We’re here.”

As soon as Muriel opened the door for them and saw Ozy, he adopted a relatively polite, but a cautious demeanor. Asra honestly had no idea how Muriel would react to Ozy, who was naturally open and genuine, but perpetually excitable.

Asra did his best to make it very clear to Muriel that not only was Ozy Kip’s dear friend, but Nadia considered him very trustworthy. This seemed to help Muriel relax a little more in Ozy’s presence.

After Asra quickly informed Muriel of why they had come to visit, the huntsman flicked his sharp green gaze back and forth between the two magicians before leaning back on his stool and huffing, “I don’t know if there’s much I can do to help. You already know everything about the reading I gave Kip.” Still, Muriel’s gaze became thoughtful as he probed his mind for things that might be useful to Asra and Ozy.

Finally, after several minutes of silence, he said, “I don’t know if this is something that could help, but ever since Kip’s nightmares have gotten worse, her plant magic has been acting on its own accord.”

Ozy leaned forward, his hazel irises sparking with interest. “Explain. What do you mean?”

Muriel bristled slightly at his directness, but after an encouraging nod from Asra, the green-eye mage elaborated. “Wherever Kip goes on this property, she leaves behind a trail of daisies. They usually don’t sprout until a few hours later. At first I thought it was a coincidence, but I couldn’t deny it when I noticed the pattern of the flowers blooming only in the places that Kipling had visited.”

Ozy gave Muriel a little space, his gaze wandering as he processed this new information. This wasn’t news to Asra, but he hadn’t been sure if it was important enough to share with Ozy earlier.

“The daisies. Are they still there, Muriel?”

This time Muriel was not caught off guard by the directness of Ozy’s question.

He nodded. “They are.”

Once again, Ozy’s gaze locked onto his. “Show me, please.”

Soon Asra and Ozy were following Muriel out onto his garden and the forest that surrounded his hut. Ozy dropped into a crouch at the first cluster of daisies they came across.

Ozy grazed the petals with the tips of his fingers, picking up on the magical traces of permanence. The flowers were so white, they looked bleached even under the shade of the surrounding oaks.

“These look just like the daisies that sprouted when Kipling took us to Strength’s realm,” Asra noted.

Ozy heard Asra’s comment, but he didn’t speak on it. He was busy arriving at his own conclusions.

Everything, it seemed, came back around to the same point.

Khleo.

All this time, Ozy had given Kipling space when it came to the subject of their long lost friend. He was afraid to push. Afraid to take it too far.

But what if I need to take it there? Ozy wondered as he continued to brush the surface of the daisies and feel Kip’s magic buzzing under his fingertips.

As a long time scholar of grey magic, Ozy had developed his own instinct when it came to the pursuit of certain pieces of knowledge. He could acknowledge that there was time to give himself space and learn something in natural degrees.

But there were times when the information he needed would not come quietly, and Ozy would have to really push himself in order to get results.

Kipling found and opened Strength’s Door on her own. Twice.

Khleo had been the motivation behind both instances.

Based on this information, Ozy’s instincts told him that if he expected anything more from Kip going forward, he was going to have to push her in the right direction.

#arcana albums: the empress #arcana albums #the arcana #kipling the apprentice #ozy the grey mage #asra #asra alnazar #asra the arcana #nadia #nadia satrinava #nadia the arcana #the arcana fanfic #the arcana fanfiction #the arcana fic #muriel #muriel the arcana

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echo-three-one · 3 years

Text

Chapter 34

THE ROAD SO FAR

To the notable few people reading this. I hope you enjoy! Cheers!

High and Dry

"Alex"

MacTavish Residence, Glasgow, Scotland

Alex joined the commotion going on in the living room while he was on his way to get Samantha a cup of coffee before she woke up. The group consisted of Soap, Price, Jack and France facing a laptop.

He peeked for a while and saw Ghost, Roach and Maxine on the other end of the video call. He had no idea why they'd have to do that but proceeded to listen.

"So uh… we didn't find a single body on the ship. It's possible the waves already washed them somewhere. Guess I'll have to check on local news for more information. But what we do have are coordinates to a Site Hotel Bravo?" Ghost asked and the name didn't ring any bells.

Price and Jack's heads turned after hearing it and they slowly speculated before replying.

"I'll see what I can find." Price replied as their feed slowly lagged due to internet failure. Francine looked like she wanted to say anything to Max but the call ended abruptly.

"How could she just leave without telling me?" Francine complained while storming off.

"Maybe she had her reasons?" Soap followed her trying to calm her raging emotion. Alex nodded to Jack and Price who nodded back and went to the office. He felt like words weren't necessary to tell him that they'll be planning on their next move.

With everyone else gone, Alex made his way back to their room where Samantha was already awake and brushing her hair in front of the mirror.

Setting the cup of coffee by the drawer, a smile escaped his lips as their eyes met through the reflection, where she saw Alex slowly approach her and hug her back as they slowly swung sideways.

"Good Morning, Gorgeous." Alex muttered and kissed her on the cheek while Samantha giggled at the ticklish feeling of his moustache.

"Good Morning to you too, Handsome" she replied while her hands looked for him and intertwined them tightly.

"Any plans today?" She mused, tilting her head enough to meet his lips as they kissed intimately.

"Hmm. Your best friend somehow made it to London today…" he murmured after their kiss, as Samantha's eyes opened wide.

"Hm?" was all she could say as their heads parted farther.

"My best guess is that they went back to the ship. Probably to look for Alexandra… or what remains of her." he continued as Samantha showed a worried look.

"Roach is with her…" he added once more in an attempt to not make her worry.

"I see what you are doing, 3-1." She mused. Alex's eyes widened to the sound of her using his code, he somehow found it… sexy.

"So we're using code names now?" He turned to Samantha who sat on the bed, the worry on her face was still obvious.

"Hey now." Alex called, smiling at the moment their eyes met.

"She'll be alright. She's got two strong soldiers around her. Don't worry."

"I guess you're right…" she sighed in resignation as Alex leaned in closer for a hug. The said hug meant to assure her that everything will be alright.

Alex spent most of the day with Samantha, judging on how busy Jack and Price were, he assumed they're going to be back on the field again, and that means that she'd be left all alone and worried.

They caught Soap and France doing the same too, but since they're both soldiers, they won't be separating from each other.

"I like to believe something's already going on with them." Samantha leaned in to Alex at the sofa, as the two watched Soap and France arguing at each other in the kitchen. It looked like they were seeing who gets to assemble a pistol first, but the bickering was longer than the actual game.

"Yeah? You should've seen them kiss back at the Gulag. That was uhh… a sight to behold?" Alex chuckled.

"Ohh they already did? I knew it. Even back at the infirmary, I could feel the both of them trying to vibe." Samantha mused and laughed and just after that statement. The two competitors already found themselves in a concerning situation. Soap was already on her back, his hands helped guide France's on the pistol, their faces were so close to each other, one slight turn could already be a potential time to kiss.

And that they did, Alex and Samantha saw France ask a question to which Soap answered by slowly tilting his head to her face. What happened next was that their eyes both closed and their lips met slowly at first then progressed into a more intimate session.

Samantha covered Alex's eyes and giggled as Alex did the same, laughing so hard that they were lying on the sofa.

After that, Price and Jack quickly announced that they'll be visiting Shepherd in Afghanistan. The two couples exchanged looks, where Samantha frowned as she realized that Alex would once again be placed in danger.

AFGHANISTAN

Alex didn't expect that they're going to visit Shepherd with full gear. It looked like Price and Jack made some negotiations to make this possible considering how the weapons looked expensive. Maybe earning favors was a good thing after all.

The rest of the team easily regrouped in Scotland, where Maxine and Samantha kind of got the whole MacTavish Estate to themselves. It's the safest idea aside from sending her back to her Dad.

Now, the rest of the squad is flying discreetly above Afghan borders on their way to Site Hotel Bravo. Intel suggests it's a hidden cave network which housed Shepherd's Elite troops called the Shadow Company, which the group already acquainted with back in London.

The plan is to stop Shepherd from finishing his EMP Nuke and attempt to destroy any trace of it from being rebuilt again. If possible, they could also use this opportunity to get intel on Nero.

"Da. There it is. The exact location of your coordinates." Nikolai announced over the comms. The rest of the team looked down on a barren canyon, no sign of anything that said "Camp".

"For a military base, this one looks pretty empty." Roach commented.

"Well, if intel's correct then whatever is below that would be the one we're looking for." Ghost said, putting on his new and improved mask.

"Prepare for dropoff." Price signaled as everyone quickly attached themselves to the hook, as they descended after Price's signal.

"Let's get evil!" He cheered as his foot landed on the ground, dust quickly blowing on the wind.

They all raised their suppressed weapons and hid on the nearest covers.

"Sandstorms brewing up. We'll use them for cover." Price announced as he and Jack crouched forward, hooking to a rappel slid down the ropes, as they stealthily took down two guards by the elevated area.

As soon as the coast was clear, the group now gathered by the entrance of the cave and began to split up.

Alex and Jack were to locate and plant charges on the Nuke, permanently erasing such weaponry off the face of the Earth. Soap, France and Ghost's task was to locate any intel regarding Nero while Price and Roach will try to find Shepherd and beat the truth out of him.

"All-righty, kiddo. Let's get a move on." Jack nodded as Alex followed his former CO inside the cave. The scenery turned darker as the rest of the team split up to cover more ground.

"It's almost pitch black in here…" Jack whispered as he toggled his flashlight.

"You're not using a flashlight? Can you see in the dark, Alex?" He asked with amusement in his voice.

"Not really. But I eat a lot of carrots." He joked, turning on his lights and pushing forward to the dark tunnel. As expected, Jack wouldn't get the joke. Alex knew that some things would never change.

"You hear that?" Alex mumbled as sounds of footsteps echoed on the narrow walls, causing the two to lean close to the wall and turn off their lights. With his eyes beamed on the light at the end of the tunnel. People in lab coats shuffled across the halls, making their path correct.

"This is the right way." Alex affirmed as they slowly pushed their way to the Lab in stealth.

Jack followed, guarding Alex's six, as they reached the main hall of the laboratory.

"This is Echo Three One, we already made it to the lab. Proceeding to locate the Nuke and plant the charges." Alex informed as they took cover behind corners, eyeing out for possible hostiles.

"Copy that three one, we're still on the lookout for Shepherd." Price reported.

"Uh.. Ghost kinda left us alone. He said he was going to cover our six but he's gone. This place is huge, we're still on the lookout for possible intel rooms." Soap muttered as Alex and Jack maneuvered the Laboratory as stealthily as possible.

When a small group of babbling scientists were heard from the halls, Alex and Jack quickly hid in the nearest room they could find, accidentally stumbling on the blueprints of the nuke.

The whole wall was filled with blue paper depicting an almost scale model of a rocketship. If this was the nuke Shepherd wanted, it was obvious why he desperately needed the money.

Jack's camera shuttered as he took a photo of the thing to report back to Price.

"So, how do we get rid of this?" he asked.

"More importantly, how is our charge going to set off that huge thing?" Alex asked and looked at the blueprints carefully.

"The engine." They both said, as they traced the engine.

"It's their final piece of the puzzle." Jack theorized.

"And we're lucky enough they haven't placed the thing yet." Alex continued.

The further they traversed into the lab, the more crowded it got. It was expected as they were building a huge EMP rocket nuke, and it was getting harder for Alex and Jack to advance further. Right now, their best option was to lock themselves in a comfort room.

"We need a diversion." Alex planned as Jack leaned by the sink, checking out his greying beard in the mirror.

"We'll wait for the others to alert the whole base." he replied. It was a risky move, but it would work. If they were to create their distraction in the lab, everyone would go here and make it much harder to set the charge.

"This is Echo Three One does anyone copy?" Alex's tone was annoyed.

"I guess they jammed this place up, kid. We're on our own." He said calmly as Alex clicked his tongue. Jack was right, they just have to wait.

But the anticipation of not knowing anything outside was worrying him. What if the nuke was already launched? What if the team already did their plans and they're still inside the damn comfort room?

Alex's mind was clouded with thoughts of failing. He was not used to this way of thinking, but ever since he met Samantha once again, he became more concerned of the safety of the group, more specifically, his safety. Back then, he was fine with sustaining injuries and being reckless, but now he wanted to get home from missions in one piece. Losing his leg was the last line he was willing to draw.

Then, the alarm systems blared, it was requesting every scientist to report to the bunker.

"See? All you need to have is a little faith." Jack smiled and readied his weapon, leaning closely by the door.

"After you kid, I always got your back." He said as Alex slowly flicked the lock open, his hand grabbed the door knob and slowly pushed it open.

Next Chapter : Red

Notification Squad my Beloved

@bumblingbee1 @enderio @smokeywhalee @samatedeansbroccoli @whimsywispsblog @ricinbach

#horrayfic #john soap mactavish #alex echo 3 1 #codmw #john price #gary roach sanderson #simon ghost riley #whateverittakes

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messwriting · 4 years

Text

Dream Girl - Aizawa x Reader - Part II

Summary: “He catches himself begrudgingly thinking about Dream but he tells himself it is about her safety and not the way in which he thinks she looks so much better with her original hair color.” -- Or Aizawa begrudgingly helps in a undercover mission and meets someone he didn’t anticipated. Then, he’s appalled at being interested.

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four

Warnings: Reader is a hero involved in intelligence work, with a specific quirk. There’s also mentions of physical characteristics (hair color and boob-size rs) here, that are meant to be different from yours, but may not be the case. If that’s so, that’s no problem to the progression of the story, just thought of warning. Eventual smut.

Note: GUYS I’M AWFUL AT SUMMARIES BUT THIS IS GOOD. Yes, this is a note i’ll left permanently in this. /// I’m so happy you guys are enjoying this!!!! 😍 It got me giggling like crazy seeing the notes and receiving asks and messages! 💘 So, this part is unbetaed because i didn’t want to bother my ofc beta @mixedhell on her weekend out. If there’s any problems, please tell me. <3

When the day comes, Aizawa leaves the dorm right before the sunset.

It’s fairly early for the marked meeting time, but he needs to meet with both Centipeder and Bubble Girl before meeting Dream and discussing the plan of action… again.

The two of them had met again in the middle of the week, as promised when she left him in front of the School. Y/n had done a whole show when Aizawa called her to arrange the meeting and once she found out his phone number, even if it was the hero-business’ one, his messages exploded like never before. It was common occurrence now for Eraser to wake up in the morning with tons of messages ranging from suggestive to flirty or her attempts at being cute, and sometimes just downright rambling, which had doubled the amount of coffee the permanently tired teacher needed in the morning.

Aizawa refused to answer most of the girl's messages even if he happened to be online at the moment he received them. Other times he made a show of leaving her conversation clearly on read. It was a whole different satisfaction to see Y/N answering “really? leaving me on read again?”.

The problem had been when the woman had managed to turn the game around, upping the level of suggestive messages to the verge of inappropriate. He realizes she does it to both get his attention and annoy him, but some of her messages begrudgingly lifts his spirit.

Aizawa is not very good with anything that requires a lot of expression, even with a screen in between, but for once he’s fine with it. Not dignifying her with an answer turns out to be his answer, especially since he knows she’s going around trying to push his buttons. Even so, after most of five days in this routine, he’s in a bit of a mood when the morning comes and he has nothing waiting for him on his phone. Not even a ridiculous emoji.

He wonders if she’s busy while most of the day passes by and he’s already halfway through his meeting with Centipeder.

They agree on the arrest and what is to be done about the drugs once the police are involved – Centipeder being responsible to fill the Chief on it and Eraser assuring him that he’ll get the triggers into custody. When Eraser feels the meeting’s approaching its end, he feels he can finally ask something without sounding too suspect …And he quickly shuts down the internal question of why would it be suspect before he starts overthinking.

“And where’s Dream? She’s not going to show up for this meeting?”

“No. She didn’t tell you? She’s been in character all day already.”

“What?”

“Before missions like these, she normally sets the ground for the cover she’ll impersonate. Since this was a minor job, she spent the week organizing things like renting an apartment, finding a job...” Bubble girl answers without looking at Eraser, writing something away in her notes. Centipeder doesn’t seem surprised by the fact that the pro-hero who’s assisting Dream in the job doesn’t know any of this. Eraser, on the other hand, is annoyed that she’d been texting him stupid things all week when she could be telling him this.

“She doesn’t like to share much about her routines before missions.” Centipeder clarifies to Eraser, a very tired expression on the mutant that says he’s too used to doing so. “I suppose I get where it comes from, but I also understand how that’s unpleasant while working together on a job, even if a minor one.”

Eraser nods, lights up a cigarette and breathes it in before answering. “I’m just surprised.” He says while blowing the smoke out. “But I also understand where it comes from.” He’s enough of a lone wolf while working to understand that much. Identifying patterns of behaviors it’s one of the first things you learn while working intel and something that you only get better at the longer you work. Habits are hard to lose and easy to fall back into. The more she lets people know hers, the easier it is for someone to try and find their way into her routine. While he understands… he doesn’t know why it unsettles him.

“I guess it comes with her job. Intel work is…” Centipeder stops for a second, eyes drifting off while looking for a word, “Different from hero work.”

Aizawa just nods his agreement.

He doesn't recognize her immediately when he sees her.

Eraser's in one of the alleys behind a residential building in a not-so-good area of the city. Dream told him to wait for her there and she’s late, just a few minutes, but late. Aizawa places himself hidden in one of the existing shaded corners, his traditionally dark clothing acting like camouflage. He waits to hear footsteps at the entrance of the alley, but nothing happens; until the sound of a door opening catches his attention.

He almost dispenses paying attention to the woman who opens the door, a beautiful platinum blonde with clear eyes that clearly could not belong to the woman he remembers. But she waits, standing against the door, her eyes searching without being able to see in the shadows of the alley. Aizawa sucks in the air, ponders, and takes a step towards the light.

“So this was what got you busy all day?”

“Why? Did you miss me?” Even her smile is different, her teeth somehow more white in a straight line of perfection. It’s odd and he can tell right away this has nothing to do with her quirk. She seems to notice his attentive eyes noticing the changes and her expression softens, turning closer to the woman he remembers. It makes him question what does she truly looks like.

“The day was pleasantly quiet. So, no.” He tells her and moves inside when she gives him space, closing the door with a loud noise. He eyes her, but she doesn’t seem concerned, walking ahead of him in unhurried steps. Somehow even that seems different, a measured small distance between each step. They’re inside the buildings’ laundry room now, after stepping through an empty dark corridor.

“Should we be meeting here?” Eraser assumes this place is her rented apartment for the current mission and meeting there it’s stupid. Creates a link between him, the pro-hero that’ll make the apprehension, and whoever she’ll be tonight. She eyes him over her shoulder in a way that tells him that’s not where they are – and there’s an undertone of judgment for him even considering it being that has his face turning sour.

She leads him through the laundry and into another corridor. Then a few flights of stairs down and another corridor, then inside something that looks awfully shady with red lights, through a corner, a door, more stairs, and inside a parking garage. Aizawa prides himself on being a man with incredible direction skills but he’s at loss about where they are. She stops in front of a black car with tinted windows and they get inside without talking.

“No cameras in the garage?” He asks, but already knows the answer.

“Nope.” She still shakes her head, driving with enviable ease out of the garage and into the street. He tries to recognize the location and is really surprised to find that he can't identify immediately, only locating himself after she turns a few streets toward the docks. A corner look at the girl tells him that she’s proud to surprise him.

He lights a cigarette out of habit. "Will it take long?"

"No." She turns into another street, heads towards a busy avenue, and drives for a while until she finally enters an open garage, in one of the buildings on the avenue. She goes down to the last garage basement and Aizawa notices the red door two spaces later before anything. There shouldn't be a fire door there.

They head towards it, Aizawa notices the small keyboard on the side where Y/n presses six numbers and when it opens he’s again surprised to find a private elevator. They go upstairs and when the doors open, they’re inside an apartment that he has no way of knowing which floor or where in the building without having to search the surrounding buildings. It's a nice apartment, though. And it seems surprisingly lived in.

“Huh.” It’s all he says. Then he sucks the last breath of his cigarette before throwing it out. “Why go through all the trouble of bringing me here?”

“It’s fairly early. And I need to show you something.” She says somewhat secretive, moving through the living room to a bedroom. Aizawa blinks once he’s inside. There’s a very state of the art computer there, the kind that makes people with electronic quirks proud. On the three screens there are images being shown and he’s quick to realize that one of the people showing up there it’s the guy that’ll make the buying today.

“Fuck.” Slips past his lips, drifting off with the smoke.

“Finally got a reaction out of you!” She celebrates, turning on the lights and showing everything inside. It has a large wardrobe-slash-open-closet on one wall and a large mirror on the side, with lights and a complete dressing table with numerous makeup and hair items. A half-open door shows the large bathroom and all there is in the middle of the room is a divan with a cover and a pillow thrown on it. He puts two and two together and finds out that whatever that apartment means, here is one of her hideouts. Not truly her house, but a place she uses an awful lot. And Eraser is at loss to why she’s showing him it.

“Are you monitoring him?” He asks.

“Yes. I need to make sure what he’s doing and that everything is okay for tonight. It is, he already got the money.”

“And the other places?” He motions with his head to the other two images being shown, which he doubts he could guess where they’re from.

“Oh, this is what I want to show you.” In the light, Aizawa realizes some things he didn’t notice before. Like the fact her breasts are bigger in the black outfit she’s wearing and she looks like she lost weight.

“What exactly do you do to change like this?” The question leaves his lips before he can stop it, and somehow she manages not to be surprised even if he is.

“My appearance? A wig, contact lenses, bigger bra filled with silicon, and a bit of dehydration to lose some weight. I’ll do makeup and dress up too. Normal stuff.” She explains like it’s nothing, sitting on the expensive computer chair and turning back to look at him.

“Why do so if you’re going to use your quirk? And since I’ll deal with the security cams.”

“Do you want me to alter the perception of everyone in that club?” She sounds almost offended. “Also, everyone is going to remember a bright blonde with pretty eyes and big boobs in a very slutty dress. No one’s going to be looking for me.”

Her logic is difficult to argue with. And Aizawa finds himself admiring her hard work and diligence.

“Ok, what do you need to show me?”

“This.” She turns on the big, comfortable computer chair, and walks him through a very didactic explanation of the clubhouse architecture and electric panels. She has a software that looks like it’s right out of a spy movie and once they’re done he’s fairly certain he could walk that path and destroy the night security recording without even looking. Aizawa almost wants to congratulate her, but she’ll probably gloat at the mere hint of compliment.

Though it’s a very good scheme: She planned so that the cameras will continue recording, but nothing will be saved. Anyone could look at it like it’s a simple glitch, a fortuitous problem happening on a bad night – shitty luck.

“You put lots of thought into this.” It’s what Aizawa opts to say instead, though he admits there’s a bit of admiration there. He’s done missions like this with a grand variety of pro-heroes and also intel personnel and she’s by far the one who surprised him the most. He has done little to no effort on his part for today and she has delivered to him a clear plan of action with logical directions and perspicuous counter-measures into making this a clean operation.

“You could say so, yeah. I want this to go smoothly.” Still, she sounds as if she’s pleading the gods for good luck. Aizawa holds his instinctive snort and catches his eyes before they give him away and instead just nods – he doesn’t ask why.

Once they finish the ordeal, she’s washing her face to begin the whole makeup setup and Eraser’s finishing his third smoke. Before he leaves, she tells him directions on how to leave the subsoil garage where the elevator will lead to and he listens attentively while pretending to not find interest in the way she prepares her skin to look different; while pretending to not be trying to guess how she’ll look.

When he’s finally at the street, Eraser can't understand why she went through all the trouble of taking him there to just let him out, but he considers that she’ll probably stop using the place after tonight. It’s already time for him to begin his night patrol though, so Eraser moves quickly. Hours go by idly, his mind shifting to his later plans. He catches himself begrudgingly thinking about Dream but he tells himself it is about her safety and not the way in which he thinks she looks so much better with her original hair color. Eraser’s moving in the direction of the club a few minutes before the agreed time.

The pro-hero manages to cut the image recording so easily that it takes less time than they’d estimated, giving Eraser time to leave the building and watch from above one of the neighboring rooftops when Y/N arrives on the spot in a car. The only reason he knows it’s her it’s because the signal that comes in his phone – a single ping indicating her arrival. She’s looking even more blonde than before, the color of her hair so bright it shines. Her dress is white and he’s fairly certain, with a choked breath, that she’s not wearing much in all that silk.

The thing is surprisingly not as short as he imagined and he’s quick to discover why, a slit opening all the way through her thigh. She stands there like she bears the light inside her muscles because he’s fairly certain the woman is shining. From all the way up where he stands, there’s not much he can get from her face without wearing his goggles, but then she moves inside and the place looks dark again – a dirty street with fewer lighting where before stood some kind of goddess.

Aizawa finds his cigarette out of habit and tries to free his mind of those nonsensical thoughts while he distances himself from the place to wait at his support spot. It’s hours and too many smokes after when another ping sounds on his phone and he's quick enough to catch the sight of Y/N leaving the place hanging off the arm of their target, his other hand firmly locked on a suitcase. They’re talking animatedly and she’s prettily laughing at the man’s words, while his hand slowly molds itself on her waist and pointedly tells Aizawa he may be right about his early assumption. A sports car parks in front of the couple and they get in.

Eraser follows.

- tag list: @therealwalmartjesus [UASHUAHS MY GOD I HAVE A TAG LIST]

#aizawa x reader #eraser head x reader #aizawa sensei #aizawa imagine #eraser head imagine #bnha imagine #dream girl #messwriting

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piracytheorist · 4 years

Text

A Kiss for Good Luck (8/15)

Summary: So this is the story of one born lucky, and one born unlucky. Fate will keep making them cross paths, but is it to bring them together, or to test them? Captain Swan AU.

A/N: This will hurt. I am sorry.

Rating: T (make sure you’re okay with the warnings on AO3) Warnings: This chapter contains character death, some depictions of violence, depictions of poor and unhealthy coping mechanisms, as well as a toxic relationship. Any intercourse and physical touch in general is fully consensual, but emotionally the relationship may appear upsetting to some. Also there are some elements that may resemble emotional self-harm.

Word count for this chapter: 4k (48k in total) AO3

Read from the beginning: Tumblr | AO3

Chapter 8: Killian Jones, October 19th 2011 – October 24th 2015

The kiss is deeper than he expected. Killian pushes the woman back, but gently. He was the one who gave her permission to kiss him, after all.

"I thought it would be a quick kiss. I have a girlfriend."

Her brows are going wild. "Shit. Sorry."

He's so stupid. What would Milah think? "'Salright. Go pee."

"Yes. That,” she slurs. “Thank you again."

Just as the woman closes the bathroom door behind her, Milah appears above him.

“You okay?” she says.

He looks at her confused, before he realizes it's not that normal to sit on the floor while at a club. “Yeah,” he says. “Just very, very drunk.”

She gives him her hand, he takes it, then she starts pulling at him. “Let's go outside for some air. There's too much smoke in here.”

“I wanna pee!”

She drags him up. “You can pee outside! Let's go!”

It feels better outside. The cool, clean air wakes him up a bit.

Milah throws her arms around Killian's neck and pulls him to lean his forehead on hers. He smells the martini in her breath, landing hot against his lips.

He closes his eyes. He could stay like this forever, and how he wishes this moment lasted that long...

“How sweet,” a sharp voice says from the side.

They turn together to see Gold staring at them, his hands crossed on the handle of his cane. There's two big guys flanking him, and Killian pulls Milah aside, stepping in front of her.

“What do you want?” Killian says.

“I did wait,” Gold says. “I held back, let you take my wife away from me.”

“Shut up,” Milah says, moving to Killian's side. “Our marriage was over long before I met Killian.”

Gold looks at her, hand grabbing the cane hard.

“You... you followed us here?” Milah says, suddenly realizing. “What the hell? Where's Jack?”

“You have no right to ask about him,” Gold says and takes a brisk step forward. “You went against my conditions for meeting him. You brought that bastard with you!”

Milah flinches, and Killian's left hand grabs onto hers.

“And you?” Gold looks at him. “Going behind my back to take my son on your side? Trying to buy his love?” His face seems to barely contain his rage as he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a handgun.

Killian's hand squeezes Milah's as his other one raises up in defense. “Whoa, Gold, wait-”

Gold shoots.

Though Killian’s ears are ringing from the exploding sound, he hears Milah's trembling sigh. It feels like it's hours later that he turns to look at her, eyes going straight for the growing red spot on her chest.

And then she's falling.

“No,” he whispers and holds her, gently breaking her fall.

Her eyes are moving wildly, then she coughs and a thin trail of blood runs from the corner of her lips.

“No, no. Milah...”

She focuses on him. “I love you,” she whispers. She gasps one last time, then she's limp in his arms.

It's like even more hours pass. He feels her hot blood staining his hands.

Her eyes are closed. She's not breathing. Only her blood moves, dripping out of her body even though her heart has stopped beating.

“No,” he says.

He hears the tapping sound of a cane, and he looks up to see Gold standing above him, gun aimed at him. His henchmen also aim their handguns at him.

“What are you waiting for?” Killian says. “Finish it.”

What else can he say? It's not as if he'd leave him to tell the tale.

“Oh, no. You won't be so lucky,” Gold says, but he doesn't move.

Killian manages to hold himself back only long enough to set Milah down gently, then he lunges at Gold, grabbing the gun.

It all happens in half a second.

Gold shoots, Killian's ears are ringing again, and he sees two fingers fly off in a sudden fountain of blood.

He drops down to his knees. His left hand hangs limp in a way no hand should. The thumb and index finger are missing, and there's a gaping crescent hole, starting under his middle finger and reaching to the middle of his wrist.

The pain hits him suddenly and a scream erupts from his throat.

His vision comes and goes; one moment Gold is standing above him, the next Killian is leaning over Milah, the blood spilling from his hand onto her unmoving body.

There's more people screaming; people shouting; sirens, blue and red lights...

Then white. So much white.

Killian is just three days younger of twenty-eight when he once again thinks how he's cursed.

Milah is dead, there is no doubt about that. His hand was amputated, and he has to spend a whole week in the hospital before the doctors clear him for a transatlantic flight.

In the meantime he learns that Milah's body was sent back to England, per Gold's request.

At first, he finds it impossible; but the cops who'd questioned him about the assault soon inform him that Gold has solid alibi in London at the time of the murder.

Killian almost shuts down in the week he has to spend in there; Gold must have stolen Killian's phone before fleeing the scene of the crime, and Killian has no way of contacting Nemo, and he didn't let him know the specifics of his trip in the first place, like when exactly his return trip would’ve been.

If Nemo had known, he would have worried after not getting any news from Killian the day he was supposed to return. He would have contacted hospitals, would have found out about the assault. Probably would even honor Killian's request to attend Milah's funeral in his place, if Killian had the guts to actually ask him for that.

And to top it all, Nemo's phone at home is out of order. Why didn't he ever bother memorizing his cell phone? Now all Killian can do is lie in his hospital bed and do his damnedest to avoid looking at where his left hand is no more.

The blasted week goes by; Killian spends the rest of his savings into a new return trip, the only one he can afford has two stops in between.

He's dead tired, hungry, with fresh dog crap under his sole, and somehow he's not surprised to see his apartment has flooded.

It's three in the morning and he contemplates walking through the ankle-deep water anyway and collapsing in his bed.

He stands so long in front of the open door of his apartment that eventually the downstairs neighbor comes to complain about water dripping into his place.

One call to the fire department later, Killian picks up his two bags – he didn't have the heart to throw Milah's stuff away – and takes a taxi to Nemo's place.

Nemo obviously got out of bed to let Killian in, and of course, he asks Killian what happened.

It's like he's seventeen again, unable to react to one of the most life-changing news he ever received, only the opposite, in the most grim way that he never dared imagine.

He's hiding his handless arm inside his jacket pocket and silently walks the stairs up to his old bedroom. He doesn't answer Nemo's questions next morning, he doesn't even sit down to get breakfast. He goes straight to the lawyer Milah had during her divorce.

Gold is paying people to give false testimony, and Killian is gonna take him down.

Too consumed in his own hatred for the man, the whole week he spent planning his comeback he didn't think of the problems the lawyer is listing now; Killian was drunk – as evidenced by hospital records – enough for his testimony to be considered debatable; he also has motive to want to get back at Gold, stronger than Gold's motive to kill his unfaithful wife three whole years post their divorce which concluded in his favour; and of course, one has to prove first that Gold's witnesses are lying before questioning Gold's alibi of more than five thousand kilometers away from the scene of the crime.

Killian doesn't return to Nemo's place. His own apartment stinks, damp and moldy, half of his furniture and appliances were ruined, but at least his bed is functioning, and he can't deal with Nemo's sympathy right now.

He needs to take Gold down. He can't have any more distractions.

It takes him a month to remember his therapist. He checks his emails for the first time since the assault, and he feels he loses another part of him at the news of his therapist moving towns to study for a doctorate; she's suggested other therapists at him, followed by two more emails of asking if everything is okay, then nothing.

Killian looks at the names and phones of the suggested therapists as if they're threats to his consciousness. He actually laughs. Dr. Eriksen had him since before he was even an adult and she knew everything about his fucked-up adolescence. Where would he even begin with someone new?

He deletes the email.

For two years, his whole life centers around finding weak spots in Gold's armour. He quits from Shakespeare's boat rental and works at stock in the harbor. It's a tough, time-consuming job, but it keeps him in view of the sea and gets his mind off his pain. Alcohol takes over that job in his time off.

He stops drawing; Milah used to draw with him and it nearly breaks him to pick up a pencil to sketch. The last thing he sketches is the design for the tattoo with her name on it that is soon permanently inked on his arm.

Two years of trying, as much as his exhausted psyche and a mind always leaning towards booze can handle, and the best he manages is to break into Gold's house, hack through his computer and locate some suspicious activity between Gold's bank account and the one of one of his witnesses.

Thirteen years of no spots in his criminal record mean nothing to the law when there are spots in it in the first place, and he's arrested for breaking and entering.

Nemo responds to Killian's call to bail him out, even though Killian has barely spoken to him in two years. However, the disappointment is, for the first time since Killian met him, visible on his face.

“It's your decision,” Nemo tells him after Killian is out. “Your path to choose, and your life to ruin.”

If it were anyone else, Killian would be flipping him off. But Nemo is the one who took Killian in as an assortment of broken pieces and put him back together, loving and patient all throughout. The one who has always been too good to be called a mere father.

“It's not just wanting to get back at that bastard,” Killian says, nearly shouting. At Nemo's small flinch, Killian breathes in and out. Among all his losses, it's the first one that has filled him with such rage. “That monster killed her in cold blood. And he's out there now, not paying for his crime-”

His voice is too unsteady now to accommodate shouting.

“It's not just personal. He killed her-” A soft sob breaks his sentence in half. “-and he's walking free.”

“The world is not fair,” Nemo says in a very soft voice, hand resting on Killian's shoulder. “Come home, son. This isn't what you need right now.”

“No. I need to see him behind bars.”

“You need to grieve.”

Killian scoffs, laughing mirthlessly. “It's been two years.”

“Exactly.”

He drops his gaze. If he looks at Nemo's face right now, he may crumble, and his efforts of two years – albeit not very successful – will be rendered pointless. The time he lost, the damage he's done to himself, to his relationships with everyone, Nemo, Shakespeare, Will and Tink, it will all be for nothing.

And worst of all, he'll be yet another one who will do Milah wrong. If he gives up, he'll be doing to her nothing better than what Gold did, and the very thought sickens him.

There's only one thing he changes. His drinking has reached new levels, and he needs, if nothing else, to survive in order to bring Gold down. So for now, AA meetings are something.

At first, he only talks about how he manages to stay clean, how he slips and how he tries to not beat himself up over it. His fifth meeting is on a particularly bad day; the story of watching the love of his life die slips from him, and across the circle he gets looks of pity that he hates.

If only he told everyone about the furious thoughts for revenge on Milah's murderer that have been plaguing his every waking thought for the past two years.

He slumps in his seat and stays silent for the rest of the meeting. He shouldn't have come today, he should have known he would be too emotional to think rationally before speaking.

The meeting ends and he's already made up his mind to look into other AA groups before he even exits the building.

“Excuse me,” a voice calls at him.

He turns. It's Eloise Gardener, one of the attendees.

“On the last meeting you mentioned that mental activities keep your thoughts away,” she says.

“Yeah?”

“I'm hosting gardening classes, two evenings a week at the Bare Feet Greenhouse. I thought I could invite you to join, they're already quite cheap and I'll give you a discount.”

“Your name is Gardener, innit?”

She smiles. “And I am a gardener. Shocking, I know. But I've found it's a good distraction, especially knowing you're taking care of a life. You get the satisfaction without committing to... raising a child, let's say.”

Killian decides it's worth a try; unlike the AA meetings, raising a plant actually has visible proof of progress.

He stops coming to the meetings, but Eloise doesn't ask him why. She teaches him and guides him through providing a good environment for his plants.

One night after class, she helps him move the pots with his grown plants to his apartment. He doesn't truly invite her in, and when she initiates a kiss with him, he takes a few seconds of thinking before he realizes he doesn't mind that much.

It's just fuck, and Eloise doesn't seem to be thinking it's anything deeper than he does.

If he thinks it's any deeper, he'll just be haunted again by that miserable thought, that the last person he kissed before Milah died was not Milah herself, but a random stranger whose face he wasn't even sober enough to remember.

Eloise leaves and within minutes, he's left as well to search for any open store that sells booze. Rain is pouring down, cars splash him until he's soaking wet, but he finally gives up when he trips and falls, his leg hurting too much to take him too much further.

Even the couple of hours he stays in the hospital while they put a walking cast on him feel unbearable. Two years have gone by and the memories of hospital misery are still too raw.

Eloise doesn't comment on the cast nor his continued absence from the AA meetings. She invites him to her place and after they have sex he asks if he can stay the night. That way it's much easier to avoid looking for a drink to deal with how disgusted he feels.

Even the other people attending the gardening lessons wouldn't imagine Eloise and Killian are sleeping together – and Killian is attending two different classes side by side. Not that there's anything to show for it. They just fuck, sleep in the same bed, and that's all. She keeps him from running out for a drink in the middle of the night, better than any AA meeting managed, he gives her a person to have control over the way she wants, and they scratch each other's itches.

Nemo keeps trying to stay in touch with him, and Killian nearly blocks his number out of pure shame. Perhaps if Nemo realizes he's been blocked he'll stop bothering.

Killian has practically moved in with Eloise now, or she with him; in any case, they'll sleep in the same bed every night, whether it's the one in Killian's apartment or the one in Eloise's house.

He cannot connect who he was before with who he is with Eloise now. Before Nemo even adopted him officially, Killian had allowed him to pick up his pieces and make him a functional human. With Milah, it was Killian who was the whole, the rock she could lean on.

With Eloise, he can once again be broken, but without any expectation to get fixed back up – and he's too tired for unrealistic expectations. He can stay the mess that he is, sharing his body and his space with her so that he can feel something, even when the feeling isn't the best. Eloise is controlling and demanding, and Killian's feelings for her range from fear to disgust, but he prefers those over pain, grief, rage, and a continuously burning thirst.

It's easier to hate his... “partner” than to hate everything else in his life, including himself.

He's actually shocked to realize two years have passed since his first time with Eloise, and nothing at all has changed. Their feelings didn't change towards one way or another; they just kept fucking, sleeping next to each other, and going by their day without thinking about each other.

He almost hates it when she asks him to ride with her to a concert in Maidstone. Not only because she's making ensuring no-one assaults her sound like a chore, but also because he's still not ready to enjoy music he used to love. Especially not in her presence. Being in her company is not a circumstance that fits happy thoughts.

There's a lot of things he's been denying himself since Milah died. Everything that used to make him happy, even the company of his family, feels sullied now.

He doesn't expect to enjoy the concert. But Eloise buys his ticket and drives the car, so he decides that he can tolerate one night of being a boy toy to discourage sleazebags.

It doesn't even feel that special that his birthday is tomorrow; he lost Liam a few days after his fifteenth birthday, and Milah a few days before his twenty-eighth. Maybe it's just not in the cards for him to celebrate it again.

For three whole hours, he forgets everything. There's just the music, and the lights, and his throat getting sore from singing without a care.

There is, of course, the occasional groping, people stepping on his feet, even getting an elbow to the ribs, but for him it's all par of the course now. Including checking his pockets afterwards and realizing that twenty pounds are missing. And Eloise being... well, Eloise.

“You were supposed to stand by my side,” she starts complaining after the concert is over and people start dispersing.

“I can assure you I was touched against my consent far more than you were.”

“Is that supposed to be an excuse?”

Ugh, her arrogant, calm face she makes when she tells him off. He hates it.

“If you wanted an actual bodyguard, you should have hired one. I only have one hand,” he bites back at her.

“Really? I get you a birthday gift and you consider this an appropriate response.” There’s no question mark in her tone.

“Oh, piss off. As if you've given a fuck about my birthday all these years.”

Her lips purse together, but her voice keeps that cool tenor that irritates him to no end. “I wanted to make it a good one for you. Just because you don't care about it doesn't mean no-one else does.”

He sighs. He actually had a good time and he doesn't want it ruined by her gaslighting. He's experienced people actually caring for his birthday, and he knows Eloise's words are just words. Next, she'll say that she contacted Scorpions themselves and asked them to have a concert the day before his birthday.

She shakes her head and goes for the portable toilets. At last, he can have some time on his own. He turns his head away and back to the scene, now completely empty.

No One Like You wasn't exactly the song he liked the most tonight, but it's the one he can't stop humming. He's humming!

Maybe he does owe Eloise a bit. Just a bit.

"Catchy tune, huh?" he hears from the side.

He turns, seeing a woman with a wide smile on her face.

"Oh, which one isn't?" he says, smiling back. "What a night."

The woman nods. "Did you have fun?"

The words pour out of him like vomit. "A lot of people stepped on me, I got groped, pick-pocketed, and I got in a fight with my...” – How should he call her? – “friend, but you know what?" He shrugs. "Bloody worth it."

"Oh.” Her face softens. “Sorry that you were mugged."

"Ah, it was like, twenty quid. I've known better than to carry credit cards where hands can easily reach." A very dedicated hand, maybe. There's only so many hiding spots he has.

"Do you have a ride back home?" the woman says.

He stares at her, and he feels his jaw drop when he realizes. "Bollocks. I overshared, didn't I?"

She just smiles. "I mean, I have a car, and space for two... how many of you are there?"

He scratches behind his ear. "Don't worry. We've got a car. And we going right back to Brighton, anyway."

"Oh.” She seems to think for a moment. “I don't even know where that is."

He holds back a laugh. "Figured so. From your accent."

Her smile widens. "I'm Emma," she says, extending her hand.

"Killian," he gives his hand back, careful to keep his left arm inside his jacket pocket. She's still looking at his face when he drops his hand to his side. "So... you know that they're actually having a few concerts in the States for this tour, right? How come you decided to fly all over to here?"

"Well, today... or more like, yesterday," she pauses as she checks her watch, "was my birthday. This was more like a birthday gift to me, and of course I'm going to see them in-” She pauses suddenly. “What?"

She's obviously cut off by the expression on his face. "You're not kidding? Tomorrow- or, today, is my birthday."

"Wow. Happy birthday, then."

"Happy birthday to you too. Seems it was a great one."

Emma seems happy as she looks back at the now empty stage. "I'd say one of the best ones. Does your birthday seem promising?"

His chest feels twice its normal size when she turns to look at him. Somehow, with their birthdays being so close, it feels as if her having had a great birthday is feeding his own satisfaction for that day, for the first time in four- no, five years.

Some of her slightly messy hair is sticking to her face – she probably went all out dancing tonight – and her eyes seem to droop in drowsiness, but she's absolutely glowing.

Glowing and looking at him.

When she takes a step towards him, it feels like it's gravity that's pulling his own body to her.

"It seems that way, aye," he replies.

Her eyes close when she's a few inches away from him, but he waits for the moment his lips touch hers to close his eyes.

(A/N: I want to remind the readers that this chapter is told from Killian's point of view, distorted as it is from grief, rage and isolation from the people he loves. Emotional progress is almost never visible in the short term, especially regarding addictions. Killian might have thought the AA meetings didn't help him, but it doesn't mean that giving up and depending on a controlling person to keep him clean was the healthy thing to do.

I know it's a work of fiction but some lines are easily confused, so the message I want to pass is that if you or a loved one is trying to let go of an addiction, keeping up the effort when progress isn't directly visible may be hard, but it's worth it and will eventually help.)

#Killian Jones #Captain Swan #captain swan ff #cs ff #ouat ff #akfgl #captain swan movie marathon #I swear I hadn't planned on posting this on Colin's birthday 😅#it's just how it came up #piracytheorist writes

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pikemoreno · 4 years

Text

if you ever wanna be in love

Chapter II: Coincidences

a/n: the response to what i believe will be the slowest chapter in the whole series was honestly kind of overwhelming? like you guys were into it and it’s only going up from here folks!!

taglist is open if you’d like to be added. sorry if you asked and i missed it or forgot. please just ask again if you aren’t on there and would like to be. :’)

pairing: marcus pike x f!reader

word count: 2.3k

warnings: none, and i don’t expect there to really be any serious ones in upcoming chapters either. this is just fun.

You were really starting to regret your life choices.

Even the beginnings of autumn in Austin were hot as hell. It was only maybe 90 degrees but there was no breeze and the sun was shining ruthlessly on the asphalt, making it feel about 10 degrees hotter. And all of that was then made complete with just a dash of humidity. Basically: you were dying. You probably should’ve considered that before deciding to walk to Rick’s Diner from Wendy’s apartment, but when the pancakes call, you two must answer. And why risk losing your parking spot in the meager guest parking area when you could just walk? It’s only a couple of streets away.

Famous last words. The Austin sun, though setting, still felt like it was frying you to your bones and the air conditioning of the little diner only brought minor relief as you finally reached the stool-lined counter to ask for your to-go order. They didn’t have it quite ready yet due to the dinner rush, but it was unadulterated bliss to hear that you didn’t have to brave the heat again quite yet. A vaguely familiar voice reached your ears as you moved away from the counter.

“Fancy meeting you here, Jewels.”

Pike? From the break room yesterday? You spun around to find none other than the very same. Though his work suit was replaced with a more casual look of a casual well-fit grey shirt and jeans, he was still managing to look more put together than you felt in athletic shirts and a t-shirt. Girls night and the weather called for it, but if you knew you were going to be seeing a coworker...

“Art Squad,” you laughed, leaning against the wall next to him. “What brings you here?”

“Best pancakes in the city. What about you? Coffee?”

“Ha-ha. No, girl’s night with Wendy. Gonna get her mind off of everything with what are absolutely the best pancakes in the city,” you agreed.

“A woman of taste.” His order came up and he took it, taking a moment to talk with the server across the counter. You heard him address him by name.

He must come here a lot.

You couldn’t blame him. It was clean, the service was amazing, the food was great, and it was fun-- with nostalgic decor that didn’t sway towards cheesiness.

Marcus left the counter with his takeout bag, but he didn’t leave with it, as expected. Instead he came back to stand beside you.

“Maybe I should get some for Adrian too. These pancakes are magical,” he commented, continuing your previous conversation.

“Exactly.”

“I just wish I could do more for him. Coffee and pancakes aren’t exactly a permanent fix.”

“Agreed. I’m on the lookout for a rebound for Wendy. Maybe you should consider it too. Not a permanent fix but-- better.”

It hit you all at once.

Two single people recently in need of a rebound that work in the same building?

That couldn’t be coincidence.

But, no, that was a crazy idea. There was nothing that actually connected them. Did they have anything in common other than getting their hearts ripped out and working for the FBI? Doubtful. Was that enough for a stable relationship? God, no. Was that enough to bring them together long enough for a hook-up and getting them over their exes?

Maybe.

Your name being called interrupted your thoughts and, pancakes in hand, you and Marcus walked back out into the Austin heat. You had no idea how he was managing in jeans, though you guessed it helped that he was probably smart enough to drive with the protection of A/C.

“Well, see you around,” you nodded to him, ignoring the nagging in the back of your head to tell him about your scheme. It was silly. You turned left to walk towards Wendy’s place.

“Where are you going?” he calls after you; you turn. “Did you not--?” he gestures to the parking lot on his right.

“Walked here.”

“Do you like causing yourself pain?”

“Sometimes.” He gave you a look. “I’m kidding. It’s not that bad.”

“Yeah, right. Let me drive you.” You considered a moment. There wasn’t any harm in accepting the ride, you guessed, though you didn’t actually know him. He could actually be a murderer who’s just trying to get you to a secondary location. You’d seen John Mulaney. You knew what that meant.

But maybe it was worth a try for the pancakes.

Just for the pancakes-- for their safety.

“Sure, why not.”

This couldn’t be coincidence either. Time to scheme.

“So, about Adrian,” you began. The look he gave you was quizzical. “How old is he?”

“33?”

“Would he be interested in a 32 year old beautiful, badass goddess of an FBI Supervisory Special Agent?” He raises an eyebrow as you get in his car.

“Is that Wendy?”

“Yes. Turn left up here.” He did.

“I know what you’re thinking. No, we’re not going to--”

“But think about it!”

“I am. Meddling? That always works.” His tone was drowning in sarcasm.

“Sure it does. Adrian’s work is suffering, right? Driving you crazy? Wendy’s driving me crazy. They belong together.”

“I don’t think that’s a great quality to base a relationship off of.”

“Oh, this is her building here.” He pulled over and you continued, unbuckling your seatbelt “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Surely we can get them together long enough to at least get them off our backs.”

“Absolutely not. I’m not getting involved in Adrian’s love life.”

“Alright, fine. If you never see me again. Wendy finally killed me.” He rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the ride, Art Squad.”

“See you around, Jewels.”

“Don’t be so sure!” you called back as you walked up to the front of Wendy’s apartment.

Arriving back to Wendy’s living room had her asking you how you got back so soon as she gratefully took out her takeout container of pancakes.

“Hitched a ride,” you shrugged in reply, sitting cross-legged on the other end of her couch.

“Oh? With who?” There were approximately eight extra “O’s” attached at the end of the question.

“A guy from work.”

“From work, hmm?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

“Not like that.”

“Humor me. Someone from our team?”

“Oh, no. Definitely not. Art Squad.” Wendy widened her eyes, tilting her head at you. “It’s nothing Wendy, honestly.”

“How do you know him?” But the question didn’t come out casually. This was an interrogation. You sighed.

“I don’t, really,” you diverted the conversation digging into your take-out container. “And why are you interrogating me, hmm? I thought we were supposed to be laughing at reality shows and stuffing our faces in pancakes here and forgetting all about this kind of shit.”

“No no no. When my long-time single work friend mentions a secret guy, I ask questions.”

“Hey, I just went on a date two weeks ago! Don’t give me any of that always single crap. I get around.”

“Yeah, you went on one date. And then you came back an hour later saying he was boring and you never contacted him again. And when was the last time before that?”

“Fine, fine. I get it. But this isn’t some ‘secret guy,’” you put down your fork just to give the phrase some emphatic air quotes. “I just ran into him yesterday at the office and then today at Rick’s. That’s it.”

“For now,” she whispered devilishly. You pointed your fork at her, feigning a threat.

“I do not need a man, Wendy Harrod. I have work and I have you.”

“I know you don’t. I just wanna see you happy.” You crossed your arms.

“I am happy. Hey, this night is supposed to be about you and your man troubles. Turn on 90 Day Fiance. Stop talking about me.”

You were telling the truth. Most of it. You felt alright by yourself. You did have work, though it was a dead-end until you managed to move out of the Austin field office. It had been you and Wendy up for a promotion a couple years ago and she received it. You knew the likelihood of her leaving before retirement was minuscule, which left you stuck in your current position until your own retirement. Unless you left. Not an option. You couldn’t leave Wendy scrambling for someone to replace you. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but you had it. It was yours. And you… Liked it well enough.

It was fine. What more could you want?

***

Monday mornings were hard on anyone: the start of another week, the stack of work that Friday-you left for Monday-you staring you in the face. For Marcus it brought the wondering if this could be the week that Adrian was back to himself.

It took all of ten minutes in the office to see that wouldn’t be the case.

Adrian’s pile of work had hardly decreased in height from the last time Marcus saw it on Friday morning. He watched for a moment to see how it was going. Adrian’s pen moved slowly across the page as he followed the words printed on it, occasionally making a mark or circling a section. He was working, but not to his best. It was written on his face and in his body language: hunched over at his desk, his chin resting resting heavily in the hand that wasn’t making lethargic movements over the paper. It just wasn’t the spunky Adrian that loved his job and his co-workers. He was always the hardest worker, and on the rare occasions that Adrian wasn’t working it was because he was too caught up in being a social butterfly. This side of him was frighteningly unprecedented.

“How’re you doing Adrian?” Marcus finally spoke.

Adrian made a noncommittal noise in response, his gaze fixated entirely somewhere above the page, but not quite on him.

“That good, huh?”

Another grunt.

Marcus pulled a rolling chair up to the other side of Adrian’s desk, facing him, studying him. He thought of your proposition from days before. It was kind of a crazy idea. But it might just be crazy enough to work. It wouldn’t be a permanent fix but... Better. Just as you’d said. He was getting about that desperate. Three weeks without Adrian was bad enough for team morale. Another week of this? Maybe more? The very walls of the sixth floor would be turning dull and grey. He still didn’t love the idea, but he hadn’t exactly come up with anything better. Could he bring it up to Adrian? Was it better if they didn’t know they were being set up? He started small.

“Adrian, have you considered maybe, I don’t know, trying to date again soon? Just to get your mind off of… That.”

Adrian shrugged, “Maybe. I’d have to find someone I was interested in. But I just don't think I'll find that anytime soon. I’ll just keep comparing them to Sam.”

Marcus hummed in thought, watching the defeat on Adrian’s face. “Well, I’ll keep my eye out,” he promised loosely as he rolled the rolling chair back away from the desk.

He had to find you.

He quickly announced he was taking a long lunch and headed straight to the elevator, thankful no one followed him to see him go up to the seventh floor instead of down to the first. He poked around offices and desks, ignoring the questioning glances, looking for you or any sign of where your workspace might be. He found you in the seventh floor breakroom, starting into what looked like an extremely mediocre lunch.

He sat directly across from you and watched as you slowly looked up to find the source of the noise, suddenly feeling that he might’ve overstepped and you might not want to disturbed. That was quickly replaced by the odd surge of pride when you looked relieved to see him. You smiled at him and called him Art Squad.

“What brings you to the seventh floor? We still don’t have any coffee,” you huffed.

“I’m in.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m in. Let’s set them up.” Your expression was nothing short of cocky as you leaned back in your chair.

“Oh? Coming crawling back so soon? Adrian getting the best of you?”

“Yeah, yeah. Rub it in. So what do we do?”

“Well,” you laid down your fork, “The way I see it. We shouldn’t tell them. They’re having a tough time and feeling like they’re only getting a date from their friends’ pity party would make it worse. They need this to feel natural, like it was their idea and they’re recovering. It’ll give them confidence.”

“So we... What?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t think I’d get this far.” He rolled his eyes.

“You don’t even have a plan and you were trying to convince me to help you?”

“Just let me think about it, alright?”

“Alright. Let’s drive and think. Up for a long lunch break?”

“I guess? But I have,” you looked to your sad little lunch in front of you. When you met his eyes again, he simply raised an eyebrow.

You’re really gonna eat that?

“Rick’s?”

“Rick’s.”

forever taglist: @acomplicatedprofession @hdlynn @makaela27 @space-floozy @catfishingmorales @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @princessbatears @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @findhimfives

series taglist: @whiskeyslasso @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @dindjarindiaries @absurdthirst @roxypeanut @fioccodineveautunnale

#bri writes #iyewbil #marcus pike x reader

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rainbowwritesthings · 4 years

Text

A Place On Earth

Yanking the door open with Butchers name on his lips, he came face to face with MM and Butcher standing a bit of a way behind him. The events that lead to that point crashed into him and his heart became deafening in his ears, he could feel the knife buried into his ribs but couldn’t feel the object no matter how much he grasped at it.

Second chapter of I Just Died In Your Arms Tonight.

Hughie stared blankly at the ceiling, blinking at the shocking white that surrounded him, everything felt numb and he was brought back to when he had gotten his wisdom teeth removed years ago.

Awareness took its time visiting Hughie and when it granted him enough presence he sat up with a grunt, his chest felt oddly tight for some reason and when his hand brushed a certain area he shivered.

Some deep part of his lizard brain was screaming at him that something was wrong, that he needed to get up and leave now. Hughie had successfully gotten out of the bed when he noticed his attire, plaid pajama pants and an oversized shirt that he had never seen before.

The numbness was receding and with it Hughie realized he wasn’t in his apartment, he was in one of the safehouses. Yanking the door open with Butchers name on his lips, he came face to face with MM and Butcher standing a bit of a way behind him.

The events that lead to that point crashed into him and his heart became deafening in his ears, he could feel the knife buried into his ribs but couldn’t feel the object no matter how much he grasped at it.

Hughie couldn’t breathe again; his lungs were filled with blood and it caked his throat as thoroughly as tar. A hand suddenly grabbed his shoulder and Hughie fought it back with a strangled shout, loud buzzing was just barely audible over his heart.

Instead of Soldier Boy a very blurry but familiar face swam into his view, blinking hard and rubbing at his eyes Hughie was better able to see the man kneeling before him. The familiar rumble and what it was saying was lost to Hughie, as was the expression the man wore. Hughie forced air into his burning lungs.

“I- didn’t.”

It was too hard to breathe, he was drowning again, the bones from his shattered ribs were pressing into his only good lung. “I didn’t know. Swear to god I didn’t-.”

The way Butcher had looked at him with horror filled his mind and spots danced around his vision, from his shaky gaze he watched Butcher rise and walk off.

Fuck, was the man going to bring out his crowbar to see what he could come back from?

MM was suddenly kneeling before him; both his hands were held up and his posture was purposefully non-threatening. His lips moved continuously, and Hughie found himself trying to focus on them. When MM saw the spark of awareness, he tried to help the man out.

“It’s ok now, just breathe. In and out. Ain’t nothing going to happen to you while I’m here. Easy Hughie, in and out.”

He began taking exaggerated breaths and Hughie tried to match them with unsuccess, time disappeared and was filled with Hughie taking in shuttering breaths to match MM’s exaggerated ones with occasional praises from the medic about how Hughie was doing.

Finally oxygen was reaching it’s necessary locations in his body and Hughie realized he was sitting on the floor. He glanced around the room wide eyed, searching for something but even Hughie didn’t know what he was looking for.

MM had lowered his hands and gave the man a small smile, “there we go. Now, I’m going to grab you some water ok?”

Hughie gave a jerky nod and as MM rose to retrieve said water, he wondered where the rest were. Though he mainly wondered were Butcher had stalked off to after his brief appearance. MM made sure he was noticed before he crouched in front of him, every move was steady and easy for the shaken man to be able to track.

When he held out the water bottle Hughie thanked him, though he knew that his words were likely to jumbled for the other to understand when even he, the man speaking couldn’t understand what words escaped his lips.

It wasn’t until Hughie was reaching out to grab the bottle that he realized how badly his hand was shaking and he needed both hands to even grip the plastic. He took two sips under MM’s watchful eye before setting it down now to him, most likely making sure the man didn’t drown while trying to drink.

Hughie had calmed down from his earlier moment of panic, but now fear had replaced the panic that consumed him.

“What- “

He cleared his throat in hopes that the other words he had to say would come out less cracked.

“What’s the plan?”

MM rose an eyebrow at the question and Hughie wished he would just rip the band-aid off and tell him already. Explain to him how they were going to finish him and what they would do with the pieces, logically Hughie knew his true corpse would most likely resemble Translucants’s remains.

“So far the plan is to stay low, figure some things out before putting together a real plan on how to take care of SB.”

Despite MM not saying the full name, Hughie still flinched and saw those hazel eyes staring absolutely bored over his whole existence. MM didn’t say anything but was watching Hughie intently after discussing the groups plan of action, no matter how flimsy it currently sounded.

“No, I mean- What’s the plan for me? How are you going to-“

Hughie couldn’t finish the question. The words got trapped in his throat, stuck around the thick blood that was creeping ever forward. His chest felt tight once again.

MM wasn’t looking at him now but when he did look at Hughie his eyes displayed his inner distress, “Hughie man, we ain’t going to kill you.”

Hughie felt a sudden burst of hysteria.

“Don’t lie to try and protect my feelings MM. I fucking died alright?! Yet here I am! I’m a godamn Supe and who the fuck knows what powers I have. You, Frenchie and Kimiko may learn to be ok with that but Butcher-. He stared at me like I was a monster and I’m with him on that one.”

MM’s face morphed into a scowl, he obviously wanted to fight everything Hughie had said but instead he bit his tongue, and he shook his head.

“Almost everything you just said was bullshit man, and you need to listen close when I say that no matter what you can do it’ll never make you a monster.”

Hughie believed that MM believed his own words, but that didn’t change the fact he was a Supe in a relationship with a man who hated Supes more than anything. Personally he would rather everything that was going to happen, happen now rather than waiting for months for the other shoe to drop.

When it did Hughie doubted there’d be much left of him anywhere- and oh god his father.

“Ok, ok. Look MM you need to promise me something.”

The man gave him a long look before sighing, “I won’t promise anything ‘till I hear what it is. I learned my lesson a long time ago with Butcher.”

Hughie nodded and took a steading breath before he went forward.

“Look when I die for real and permanently, however that works. You have to give my dad an actual body to bury. I don’t care if Frenchie fixes up a mannequin, he won’t look that close once he thinks it’s me, but he needs a place to actually mourn at. I don’t- he can’t spend the rest of his life waiting for me to come home, he doesn’t deserve that.”

Somewhere in Hughie’s youth he developed an intense fear of going missing, not just because of what it meant for Hughie and the whole human trafficking thing. Mainly the fear surrounded what effect it would have on his father.

Hughie’s mother walking out the door and dissolving into the mist had crushed a large part of the man’s soul. If his son were to do the same, it would destroy whatever was left of Hugh.

MM looked at him with a hard expression before he let out a sigh and rubbed the back of his head.

“Yeah, I promise.”

Hughie let out a breath of relief, at least his father would find some semblance of peace though he knew it wouldn’t ease the pain. MM was staring at him again and Hughie gave him a weak smile, which caused the man to shake his head and stand up.

“I don’t know what’s goin’ on inside that head of yours, but I can tell you it’s way off.”

Hughie let out a small huff of laughter, and MM looked down with an odd expression.

“Now first of all, don’t panic. Butcher has something he wants to say to you. We’ll all be in the other room just in case things go south, but you should hear him out.”

Instantly Hughie’s heart picked up, thrumming adrenaline throughout his body by the mere idea of the man glowering down at him. However, MM looked so assured that everything would be alright that Hughie could only nod numbly.

He already had the man’s assurance that his father would have proper closure, Hughie couldn’t very well demand more from the group after unintentionally fooling them for however long he had compound V running through his veins.

MM leaned down to clasp Hughie’s shoulder and giving a reassuring squeeze, before nodding one last time and leaving the room.

Hughie stared at the suspiciously stained floor underneath of him, looking for answers about what he was or even just a purpose for all that he had been through meant. He heard a door open, heavy footstep pausing just briefly in the doorframe before the door creaked shut.

For many people being so close to an inevitable demise would act as a chance to confirm their faith or find a new. Any other person would be considering their fate, trying to make amends with everything that they had done wrong and begging for forgiveness.

Yet all Hughie could think of was memories his mother’s smile as she prompted a dance to a Billy Joel song. His father who had been through agony but still tried to stay approachable for his son, and who tried to maintain a bond with Hughie.

Robin who made him feel alive and like a human for the first time in his life, who cracked his shell wide open and let him experience how fun everything could be. Kimiko who was often so closed off but still learned ASL with him, she figured it long before he did but took the time to help him along so they could talk freely.

Frenchie would always call him petite and smile like he was legitimately happy to see him every time the pair met up. It didn’t matter if it had been days since Hughie saw him or just hours, the man always seemed excited to see him alive.

Mother’s Milk was a mother hen, always pestering Hughie about how much he was eating or sleeping, all with concern hidden firmly under a strong exterior.

Annie, who he now considered his closest and best friend. She would be the angriest towards Butcher when the man figured out how to kill a Lazarus Supe, with any luck they wouldn’t kill each other in the fallout of the reveal.

Finally Billy, who hated Supes as if it was the only thing keeping him alive. Perhaps it was the thing keeping him alive, allowing him to survive things that no mortal could have lived through.

Hughie could remember Billy’s arms around him, pulling him firmly against his body whether it was when they were wrapped together post cotial, or in the early morning when Butcher woke up long before he did and held the younger man tightly.

He could hear Billy whispering in his ear how the man would keep Hughie safe, no matter the cost. Finally, he could see Billy staring down at him with a look of pure despair as he watched Hughie bleed out.

Hughie knew that the despair was driven out of his apparent death and that considering what he was now that he would be lucky beyond belief if Butcher would even look at him without animosity.

His gaze kept firmly onto the floor until dark clothed legs stepped in front of him, familiar boots filled his vision and despite his best-efforts Hughie’s breath still caught in his chest. Hughie watched as dark legs bent and Butcher was kneeling in front of him, but kept his eyes away from the older mans face.

It wasn’t until Butcher let out a breath that could be mistaken for a sigh that Hughie braved a look at the other man. Butchers face was tight, every stress line was exasperated, and his lips were pulled together.

Butcher’s jaw worked for a long few moments before he looked back up, “alright lad just hear me out.”

#rainbowwritesstuff #tw: panic attack #Butchie #billy x hughie #billy butcher #hughie campbell #mother's milk #secretly a Supe Hughie

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hollenka99 · 4 years

Text

May Death Do Us Part

Summary: Wilbur dies and in the void, a voice refuses to accept his end. Prologue of Unequal Halves of the Same Whole

Warnings: Death, blood, stabbing, brief description of a dead body

It's only the two of them in this small room. It feels even tinier now that he's blocked the entrance to prevent anyone else coming other than Phil. The silly thing is this wall before him, the one with the button he's determined to press yet even now still has slight doubts about actually going through with doing so, it's not remarkably thick. It's not like there's multiple layers of stone between himself, Phil and the rest of the world. He's technically a stone block's width away from the whistling explosives. The others are fighting, he comments to the air. L'Manburg will have to concern itself with a force more destructive than some mere fireworks in a matter of minutes. If he does indeed detonate the nation he helped found. Phil seems determined to prevent that. But, then again, Phil doesn't know that Wilbur has cursed himself with a Chekov's gun, one that by its nature can't be left on display forever. When he mentions not even knowing if the button is rigged, the blond man laughs. Did he really want to take that risk? Well... As for there potentially being a lot of TNT connected to the device, yes that's the point. Regardless, it's clear Phil is in denial that Wilbur is absolutely ready to do this. His loss. The moment is ripe. It's best if he takes advantage of it. "Phil..." Now or never. "There was a saying, Phil, by a traitor once part of L'Manburg. A traitor I don't know if you've heard of. Eret?" "Yeah." Phil's expression is wary and rightly so. He'd be concerned if it wasn't, honestly. "He had a saying, Phil." These six words have stuck with him for months. Since... the beginning of August, it must have been. Ever since, he's never truly known whether to take people's words at face value. He'd made the mistake of trusting Eret and cost his loved ones a life. Who could tell if another one of his 'friends' was plotting his demise behind his back. Best to eradicate the plague that is L'Manburg with everything that made it so before they get a chance to reveal their true loyalties. Perhaps he's doing them a favour, betraying the lost cause in their stead. Either way, it is time for the words that will end up haunting the man who raised him since he was six. He almost wants to be sorry for bestowing the burden of them onto a new victim. However, he's so caught up in the moment, so thrilled to be at the point his goal is finally coming to completion after all these weeks, that he directs his energy to not truly smiling as he utters the infamous phrase. It does nothing to hide the pride in his voice that the time for his grand finale has finally come. "It was never meant to be." There is a satisfying click as the button accepts the pressure exerted on it. In that second before the world reacts to what he has done, he regrets letting Phil see this. He's close enough to the wall that he predicts the force of the explosion will find its way to him. Debris too if he's not already dead. It won't be pleasant to witness. But well... Phil made the decision to confront him directly and neither of them can change this situation now. He goes out saluting with eyes shut tight. Or at least, he would have if he wasn't knocked to the ground by a force not in allegiance with the TNT. Phil is pushing himself off from where he'd been laying on top of him when he opens his eyes. The wings are ruined. Wilbur wouldn't be surprised if he learned the older man has permanently grounded himself with that sacrificial act. One way or another, they are both alive. The damage has been done to the land before them as well as themselves. Ash rains down upon Wilbur as he rises to his feet to observe the consequences of his actions. Phil's eyes are full of horror and agony as he does the same from where he remains sitting. "My L'Manburg, Phil!" He throws his arms out. "My unfinished symphony, forever unfinished! If I can't have this, Phil, no-one can." "Oh my god..." The older of the two mutters in disbelief. "Kill me, Phil, kill me." He unsheathes the sword that had been situated by his side, tossing it towards the man he's appointed his executioner. "Phil, stab me with the sword. Murder me now. Kill me. Killza. Killza! Do it. Kill me, Phil, murder me. Look, they all want you to. Do it, Phil, kill me." "Y- You're my son!" He cries back, getting to his feet. And oh, that's caused him to be taken aback for a second. His... son? Well, he supposes neither he nor Phil were immune to the feelings that can naturally arise in arrangements such as theirs. Phil had been friends with his mother before her death. As such, he had felt obliged to care for her young son whom he's supposedly viewed in a fond light. The stories went that Wilbur had liked him back in turn. Of course, any and all attachment had waned on Wilbur's part as he aged into a teenager left to raise another parentless boy while Phil travelled with a piglin the same age as his 'son'. Son? Please. Phil had a funny way of showing it in that case. His standards for a father had been low but 'forcing a kid to become independent years before their time then randomly appearing out of the blue to talk them down from mass destruction and saving said child's life' still didn't reach the mark. If Phil wants to prove he's on his side, there remains one thing he can do for him. "Phil, kill me." He requests for the thousandth time. "No matter what you do, no matter what you pull, I can't-" "Look. Look! How much work went into this and it's gone. Do it." He challenges once more. "Do it." At this, Phil relents. A slash is made with another swiftly following it. Blood begins to flow and he's glad he doesn't give a shit about this outfit. Not that it even matters since he won't see dusk tonight. He drops, head smacking against the floor. And holy shit, is that what fire aspect feels like? He suddenly gains a profound understanding of why animals slain with these types of swords provide meat edible upon the moment of slaughter. He'd understood it in theory obviously but fuck, he wants to apologize to any creature whose throat he's aimed that sword at. He wonders whether he'd perceive someone pouring lava into the wound as a punishment or a distraction. He breathes through it. He won't cry, not in his final minutes and certainly not in front of Phil. Phil himself doesn't seem to have the same resolve to remain composed. The sword has left his grasp, having clattered to the floor. He is knelt, folding in on himself slightly with palms pressing into his eyes, and lets out a pained groan. It sounds like a mix of grief and acknowledgement of the agony his destroyed wings must be putting him in. Phil's heads lifts and their eyes meet. With some newfound determination, he gets up and lifts Wilbur's torso so he's leaning against him in a semblance of a sitting position. He subsequently moves the young man he supposedly considers a son to have his back against the wall. "Fuck, you couldn't just let- you couldn't just win? You had to just throw your toys out the pram." Hands are on his shoulders to steady him. Phil's frustration goes ignored. "Phil, you know when Dream- well, I guess you don't know but Dream said earlier that there was no traitor. He said earlier- he said 'hey, do you know what? There's no traitor', he said to me. And you know what?" Wilbur weakly chuckles. "He fucking lied. He lied. Phil, it's Technoblade. Phil, it's Technoblade." "Oh my god. The most powerful person on the server is the traitor?" "Phil-" He catches the attention of the man who is desperately trying to locate where the piglin may be outside. Phil's gaze snaps right back to him. Wilbur continues his warning with a bloodied grin. "And he has 8 withers ready to go." "Oh my god, I need to get out of here." True to his word, Phil glances back at the sealed entrance then the massive hole that used to be a wall. Calculation made, he descends down the rubble to the battle brewing below. "Go as fast as you can, Phil. Go see them, go on. Bye-bye. Bye-bye, Phil." With no-one to hear him anymore, he sighs and mutters to himself. "We won. It's over." He's not entirely sure what Dream was on about earlier in regards to there apparently being no traitors. Of course there were traitors. It was Wilbur and Technoblade, the man who had been planning to detonate an abundance of TNT for weeks and the man who had been gathering wither heads for anarchistic purposes. Honestly, who else would it be? Speaking of the TNT, as he overlooks the destruction, he doubts all of it has gone off... perhaps only half of it. It doesn't matter. The deed is done. Though he's miraculously managed to maintain conversation, the effects of the sword are increasingly taking hold. Bleeding out isn't the most pleasant thing to endure even without the enchantment wreaking havoc on his nervous system. Although, he's certainly no stranger to this kind of death by now. Punz had stabbed him and left him for dead in the Final Control Room. The same man's arrow found his chest while Wilbur and Tommy were escaping L'Manburg upon being exiled. Had the arrow not struck vital organs and stolen his second life quickly, it likely would have caused him a similar fate as his first and now current deaths without appropriate medical attention. Still, being the man of the arts and politics he once wanted to liken himself to, he could appreciate a good leitmotif. He can spot a wither or two in the sky. He supposes if he checked the communicator on his wrist, he'd see several user status updates regarding this development. Good, let Techno have his time to shine. It's an interesting last view, the rubble he's created, but he can't help feel a sense of pride. This has been his goal for so long and despite the delay of a month, it's finally over. "Tubbo, you are president of a crater." He says with delight. "Enjoy." Shortly thereafter, death at last envelops him. Phil does not come back to the room where the body of the boy he raised lays. Perhaps it is due to him becoming preoccupied by the withers and subsequent aftermath, maybe he cannot force himself to witness the end result of him fulfilling his son's final request. Regardless of the reason, the fact of the matter is that what physically remains of Wilbur Soot will be there tomorrow when Tubbo traverses the rubble along with Fundy and Quackity in an effort to begin rebuilding the nation following the events of the previous day. The president of L'Manburg will state that his predecessor should be left there to rot, promptly constructing a new wall to officially seal him in his tomb. The path his actions have led him down had to end eventually. If he thought about it too much, it almost seemed inevitable that by travelling down it, he would arrive at this room, to where he was to breathe his last, to his consequential final resting place. But that is to come and it is only his physical destiny. Every other aspect of him finds itself in darkness. There is nothing. And in the nothingness, there is only him. It is the outskirts of a black hole's event horizon, ready to scatter his atoms when time itself comes to an end. It is a sensory deprivation room in the heart of a city bustling with noisy activity, overloaded with an infinite variety of colours and aromas, though you would forever be none the wiser. It is the expanse of space with any and all celestial bodies too far to detect with your exposed being. The void accepts him as its latest inhabitant. In the abyss that follows his demise, silence is shattered. "What are you doing?" "This isn't right. I want to go back." "This is what we wanted. It's over now. We don't have to carry on." "There must be another way." "But we're dead. There is no reversing that. There is no 'other way' either." "What if we started over though? What if we came back somehow without the paranoia and mistrust. Someone must have cared about us, right?" "You're talking about changing who we were." "I'm talking about reverting back to a happier version of ourselves. We've done the whole 'bad guy' thing. Why don't we be the good guy again? We won't have to worry about being betrayed if everyone likes us." "...I don't think I appreciate your line of thinking." "I think my reasoning is sound." "This is crazy! We can't just show up like nothing happened. We blew up the country. We said it ourselves, if Phil didn't do it, somebody else probably would have put their sword through us." "We'll never know if we don't try." "Stop it!" "No. I'm doing this for our own good." "But I don't believe it will be beneficial. If you would just listen to me-" "If you're so content with how horribly things ended then here you go. You keep all these memories. Wallow in them. I definitely won't be needing them." "Wait-" "Meanwhile, I'm going to give us the second chance we deserve. And I'm going to do so back down there with a clean slate." "Don't do this. Please." "I'd rather take amnesia over missing this chance." Yellow burns in their line of sight, highlighted by the lack of colour. An additional arm forms. Another joins it as do two extra legs. Rapidly, one entity separates into a near identical pair. One pulls away as their twin uses both hands to pull an arm back towards them. They struggle like this momentarily before the rejecter shoves his counterpart away, causing himself to fall further and further from any continued attempts to stop him. The first is left in a wealth of misery, hatred and anxiety upon the split commencing. Anything they ever fondly cherished, even if they hadn't acknowledged it recently, is ripped from them. Memories of childhood, of playing music, of accomplishments worthy of pride are left negated in the aftermath. If the Grinch's heart grew three sizes upon accepting love once more, then this half's heart was currently shrivelling to a third of its typical capacity. Resentment fills them as their twin tumbles to the world below. The second is overcome by joy, excitement and hope as the transfer is made. Gone are the pain, the regret and the sorrow. They are free to go about their existence without a care in the world. Like a foreign object burning upon contact with the atmosphere as it tumbles, everything unnecessary disintegrates. In the fire, they are cleansed. They are able to float and avoid their feet needing to touch the ground with the absence of all that undesirable weight. The closer their new attempt at life approaches, the more they feeling as if they are flying towards it. Who cares about the other half they are leaving behind? He can take care of himself. Besides, he's been in the reins for too long. A ghost wearing a yellow jumper appears in the room where his originator succumbed to exsanguination hours beforehand. A body wearing a brown trenchcoat with red staining his shirt and fingerless gloves overlooks the surrounding ruins. Or, at least, he would be were his eyes not closed. However, it goes without saying it is disturbing to see your own corpse right in front of you, to look at your own face and know there is no life to be found upon it. So he escapes in the same direction a blond man had done earlier. Night has fallen but he knows that come morning, he will have plenty of opportunities to reunite with friends under his new name of... Ghostbur. Yeah, he wants to be called Ghostbur. Wilbur was someone else entirely so why not adopt a second identity to mark his second chance at life. It is the first memory that is solely his own and he promptly forgets it.

#dream smp #wilbur soot #philza #my writing #twobur au #unequal halves of the same whole #tw death #tw blood #first part of unequal halves let's goooo #the majority of this is honestly just Wilbur's death scene

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whitleyschn33 · 4 years

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RWBY Volume 8 Episode One: Quick Thoughts

Or not so quick, seeing how long it took me to write this and how much I ended up having to say. Spoilers (duh) under the cut, as this thing got insanely long.

So we open with a maid scrubbing a floor, a shot that lasted long enough I was starting to wonder where it was going before we cut to Cinder. So, Cinder backstory - interesting way to open the volume, but I’m not sure if it’s a good way. At the very least, I would have cut it a couple seconds, or have it flash between Cinder’s face and the flashback. Same information, but given in a quicker manner that lets us know exactly what we’re seeing instead of wonder who this random maid is for 10 seconds.

Whale aircraft carrier. The design is interesting, if looking a bit too clean for my taste. I would’ve liked to see the bones and muscles of the Grimm incorporated into the design a bit more, the surfaces less smooth and more textured, but it looks good.

Facial acting on Neo is good - I appreciate being able to see what’s running through her head, even if it also makes me wonder why Salem isn’t picking up on the obvious tells.

Emerald and Mercury are back and with new outfits; I can hear the diehard EmMerc fans screaming from here. Would’ve liked a better look at the whole outfits (I don’t think there’s even one close up of their entire bodies), but I like Mercury’s! Emerald’s model feels off to me for some reason, like it’s wider or more padded (?) than before, but it’s not a big deal and is probably just a result of her wearing a jacket now.

Oh, yeah, Hazel got one too, don’t care.

Why does the whale have a screen? A connection to one of those seer orb Grimm?

Cinder is still not interesting to me, but I am curious - can one woman hold multiple maiden powers? What happens if one woman holds them all? If they can hold multiple powers, what happens when they die? Do they both/all go to the same person, or would they split?

I like the Faunus that gives Oscar the soup. His design is pretty cute to me (I think he’s a mole Faunus?), and I feel like he’s based on something, but I’m not sure what. Getting a Narnia vibe for some reason, which I’m always on board for.

How did Ruby know where Oscar ended up? Did he call?

Weiss’s braid looks much better! I’m still not a huge fan of it, but this model is an enormous improvement - it actually looks like hair instead of rope, it’s slicker, and doesn’t look as heavy. Nice job, animators. Blake’s looks better, too, more fluffy, but it’s not as drastic a change to me.

Nice to see the Happy Huntresses actually doing something to help Mantle, and having Joanna(? that’s her name, right?) take charge and be helping Ruby get Oscar back in exchange for their aid is nice. It feels realistic for a situation like this.

And more secret keeping, but in this case, dropping the Oz bombshell would actually probably be a bad idea. There’s enough going on, bringing up Oz being back can wait until tensions aren’t as high.

Why would Ironwood stop evacuation? That makes no sense for his character, and there’s no reason to stop them. Until he gets Penny back, Atlas isn’t going anywhere. Might as well keep evacuating until you can find here, get as many people to safety as possible before getting away. I’d assume the Doylist answer for this is that Mantle still needs to be a factor in any decisions made after this and it can’t be that if we can get everyone evacuated, but that doesn’t make the Watsonian explanation make more sense.

Actually a good plan, getting everyone into the crater if it is in fact warm (why, I wonder? Thermal vents? Heat coming off of Atlas?) solves the cold problem (that people should’ve probably already died from) and having to defend one smaller location is strategically a good option. Corralling people would also make any eventual evac to Atlas easier. There is the small problem of, you know, Atlas literally crushing anyone in the crater if the staff is used on anything else, and Salem is known to be after that Staff, sooooooo -

Okay, maybe a nitpick, but I thought Pierto’s specialty was prosthetics and robotics. Doesn’t seem like something that necessarily overlaps with what’s needed to convert Amity into a satellite. I guess maybe the engine/whatever is going to propel it into the air could be similar to Penny’s boosters/whatever lets her fly, but it doesn’t seem like something that he would be involved in raising Amity. Whatever - I know we need a scientist person to tell these things to RWBY+Co and Pierto is the most likely candidate to be in a position to do that.

It seems like, from Ruby’s dialogue, she both wants to warn the other kingdoms and ask for their help. This has been trampled to death, so I won’t rant, but - there is no one that’s going to be able to help. Argus is hours away, will take time to assemble, and isn’t a very large force to begin with. Mistral is still weakened from V5 and has next to no huntsman, and is even farther than Argus. No idea what’s going on with Vale, but they’re probably still nursing their wounds from the Fall. Vacuo is the only kingdom likely to be able to muster up a force, but they’re on the other side of the map and will take hours, if not days, to get together an army - and that’s if they decide they want to help at all. The other objective was warning the Kingdoms about Salem. Ignoring that Salem is immortal and can just throw as many Grimm as she pleases until the defenses fall, ignoring that the other Kingdoms might not even believe Ruby, what’s to say they won’t go “F*ck Atlas, they’re on their own” and recall every available Huntsman and Huntress to shore up their own defenses? Or what if the other kingdoms just fall into anarchy? Learning an immortal witch with an endless supply of Grimm will come knocking on your doorstep soon tends to cause chaos. Or is Ruby going to leave the whole immortal part out again? I just can’t see what this will accomplish.

Holy shit, it’s actually happening. Dissent from WBY, and it’s coming from Yang of all people - I love it. I wish Yang had gotten to finish her sentence, say something along the lines of “Maybe if we’d told the truth immediately things wouldn’t have gone this way” since that would fit with her “hate secrets” thing she had going on in V5/6, but the fact that Yang is actually questioning Ruby’s leadership and choices - yes yes yes, more of that please, less of the hive mind. I wish it’d come a little earlier, but at this point I’ll take what I can get.

I’m slightly confused at the sides that Ren and Nora are taking here. I like that we’re splitting them up here (we never get to see them separated, and after last volume, I am more than on board with letting Ren get some breathing room), but Ren going with Yang, Jaune, and Oscar to help evacuate Mantle while Nora goes on the “bigger picture” team to get Amity up and running seems weird considering where they were last volume. Nora was always screaming about how the big picture stuff was hurting Mantle, while Ren was pushing to keep training, keep working, support Ironwood and try and work at the big picture problem, so it would seem like they should be on opposite sides. I’m not saying it makes no sense - I can absolutely see Ren feeling protective of towns under attack from Grimm with no Huntsmen in their corner - but it feels like a bit of a 180 from their last positions.

Did Oscar just call Jaune “John”?

Yeah, if nothing else, don’t let Penny get anywhere near Salem or her cronies. Salem can absolutely not be allowed to get her hands on the Staff, especially with the whole “get everyone to the crater” plan. Squish.

Yang and Blake splitting up, maybe we can actually get some conversations on what the hell is up with them that we should have gotten in V6/V7 instead of petty showing off and Nora projecting.

“But what about Mantle?” “Oh, I’m helping Mantle.” with the same thing you spent all last volume complaining about. Uh-huh, that’s not annoying.

Weiss has an idea on how to get up to Atlas - Winter’s ship, maybe? That one she came in on in V3 was her personal ship, wasn’t it?

Ironwood calls Penny. From the music, it sounds like they were aiming for foreboding and manipulative, but Ironwood just sounds tired, the poor man. Love how Ruby doesn’t even try for a comeback for Ironwood’s argument, really convincing.

Dead Clover, and I hope that he stays that way, because if he’s brought back to life, so much of V6′s themes of life and death and the natural cycle is just going to be spit on (again). Clover is dead, and there should be no way around that save interference from a literal god. Any attempt at bringing him back needs some kind of drawback - some prevision of life, a body that moves but his soul isn’t there, something, please RT, don’t double back on your “Death is permanent” thing again.

And Ironwood did lose his arm completely. It’s an awesome looking prosthetic, but the fact that it’s black when the rest of his prosthetics are silver, combined with the comments made by the CRWBY about Ironwood’s humanity, make me very afraid they’re going to go for some sort of bullshit parallel to Cinder’s black Grimm arm. I do like the orchestral version of Hero playing here, though.

I like Winter’s new hair style - similar enough to her previous one, but looser. Not exactly happy about what that might symbolize, but it looks really good. It looks like she might have nerve damage, though, which would mean she might be off the battlefield until she can get her hands (hah) on some sort of brace to help her move her hands (which might be hinted at in the OP~)

I do really like Ironwood and Winter’s relationship, please don’t f*ck it up, CRWBY.

Is the only thing CRWBY knows how to do to make Ironwood seem like the bad guy shoot people for no goddamn reason? Ironwood was surrounded by loyal soldiers after declaring martial law, there was no reason for him to not just order Slate detained (that one was Slate, right? Not that it matters). The man’s annoying and probably in cahoots with Jacques, but shooting him is out of character, excessive, and makes no sense when he could just be arrested. “It shows he’s slipping -” No. It’s lazy writing meant for shock value and to give characters a reason to go “Oh, he’s going evil now, I better question my loyalty to him” (based on the look Winter and Harriet share) rather than any actual flaw in his plans maybe because CRBY realized that Ironwood’s plans are rational and the best one on the table right now, so they can’t use that to turn people against him. F*ck that.

Salem sends a bloodhound or whatever after Oscar, we already saw this bit in the trailers. No comment.

TLDR: Once again, RWBY sets up a lot of stuff that I find interesting and want to see more of. However, their treatment of Ironwood doesn’t make me optimistic for them to treat him right, and RWBY has a track record of setting up good concepts/plots/characters/arcs and then failing to execute them well or at all. We’ll have to see if V8 actually lives up to the promise or falls flat due to the issues that plagued V6 and V7 .

Going to make a whole new list for the OP because dear Lord, this thing is dense.

This song is definitely more in line with RWBY’s usual sound than Trust Love, and I’m all for that. The beat is a little hinky to me - it’s going to take a few re-listens to get used to it - and once again I wish the lyrics were clearer, but I know people that weren’t as happy with V7′s sound will be happy with this return to form.

Establishing shots of Mantle going to hell, nice use of red and contrast, but I wish there was a bit more use of shadow to really sell the red coming from fires and emergency lights.

Ruby standing alone, turning to find the others standing at the ready to fight, but away from her and with their backs turned. Any chance of more dissent? Will we actually get some growth from Ruby, in regards to her leadership in particular? We can only hope.

The four girls, on a blackish/blue background with floating warm lights, with images of their V1 selves in their clothes/hair/weapons. I really love the animation in the portion, the girls look so good. It also makes me wish we’d get some sort of flashback to V1-3, because I want more of their Beacon designs in the new animation style. The fact that this background/setting shows up again later in the trailer makes me wonder if it might be what the interior of the Atlas vault looks like. No basis for that, just a random thought. Couple minor nitpicks, focused on Yang. The fact that she’s the only one not in a more dynamic pose (and this is Yang of all people) seems odd, and the way her hair flows looks weird to me based on the angles and whatnot. Putting her in a different pose like a charge would fix this, letting her hair flow more naturally and giving them the space they need to to add in her past self. Otherwise, gorgeous.

Ironwood with Atlas inside him, slowly being overtaken by the red as he looks up. No real comment other than beautiful.

Clover dropping his pin, with the AceOps and Qrow in the leaves, before transitioning to Qrow taking Robyn’s hand in prison. It looks like Harriet will be taking over as team leader. I don’t have a lot to say here - Marrow’s the only AceOp I’m interested in, and Qrow and Clover’s relationship has never been compelling for me. Robyn, similarly, is not a character I like, so a Qrow/Robyn team-up jailbreak isn’t something that I’m interested in unless Watts is involved. Already teamed up with one villain, Qrow, why stop there?

Oscar in pain holding his head, while Grimm eyes surround him and then Salem with wyvern wings comes out and looms over him preparing to grab him. I like the visual of Salem as the Wyvern at Beacon, but her face looks almost doofy in this shot. I think it’s the lack of expression mixed with the eyes. If she had a more menacing expression, I think this would work a lot better.

The falling weapons of the girls, Crescent Rose with Myrtenaster and Gambol Shroud with Ember Celica. Cue the shippers.

Jaune with his sword in front of his face, pulling it down to be at the ready, with Nora and Ren in the far background, their backs turned on each other but looking sad at their positions. I know Jaune’s thing is probably generic, but it gives me Mulan vibes, which is funny considering. Hey, hint that Martial Arcs will become canon now that Renora is on the rocks? fingers crossed More of Ren and Nora’s rough patch, and I really hope that that gets some focus. Their kiss last volume left a bad taste in my mouth with how it went down, and getting into these two as separate characters and their relationship. Ren not requiting Nora’s romantic feelings towards him would be a really interesting place to go with these characters that everyone’s pegged together since episode 4 (in no small part due to their lack of interaction with anyone else, but I’ll get to that).

Winter and Weiss walking towards each other on the Schnee symbol, passing each other by with Winter getting her new hairstyle and a brace of some sort. She’s actually wearing this brace in the hospital, but on the other arm, while now it’s on the arm she couldn’t bend her fingers with. Interesting, and it looks all looks really good!

The Schnee snowflake falls between Whitley and Willow, before shattering onto a chessboard. YESSSS, Whitley’s in the intro again! That’s more than I could’ve hoped, and I really really hope that him looking contemplatively like that means something - that’s he’s figuring things out, coming up with a plan, something! Still no new design though T-T CRWBY, what do I have to do to get my boy some new clothes?

From the chessboard, Salem rises up, turning the other black pieces into Grimm to attack the white where Ironwood stands. His pieces turn to dust, the board blowing away entirely. Nice callback to V1. Ironwood stands alone - no allies, and no space to move forward. He’s a king with nowhere to move - check or checkmate.

Smug Watts hacking while leaning against a mirror, rotates to show Pierto doing the same, his reflection looking over its shoulder at him, then a pan to Penny to show the same thing before the mirror breaks. I’m not sure what this might symbolize. Inability to trust yourself, maybe?

A snowflake flies through the air and lands in Ren’s palm. It turns into a flower petal, (or scraps his hand, I can’t quite tell) then Yang, Jaune, and Oscar join him, Ren smiling to Jaune. Another flower petal flies by to transition to Nora, who reaches out but can’t catch it, looking dismayed until RWBP comes in to join her. I assume the symbolism is straight-forward - the snowflake turns to a petal when caught by Ren (lotus guy), then flies to Nora who can’t catch it. Really living for the Ren focus in the op~

Pans to a shot of the whole group in the middle of everything - Atlas and Mantle overrun with Grimm on one side, Salem’s whale and Grimm army on the other, and Amity in the middle, which Penny flies up to hover below. Penny is going to be vital to launching Amity, and probably for reasons other than the terminal.

Then Ruby and Yang looking at each other with a smile and nod before the girls jump into fighting some Grimm. Interesting bit when the volume opens with the sisters starting to have disagreements.

The entire thing freezes, Cinder strolling cockily past the crew to walk in front of a bored/disgruntled Neo and Emerald who starts to wave but looks dejected when Cinder ignores her. Not much to say here - I don’t really like the freeze frame for some reason, no idea why. This also doesn’t give us any new info on the dynamics between these three characters.

Cinder grabs her Grimm arm in pain as fire flares up behind her, transitioning into Merc, Tyrian, Hazel, and Salem with the lamp in her eyes, transitioning to the lamp and staff twirling around each other, both emitting smoke like they’re being used as they come together. I wonder if this means that the last question and the Staff are going to be used, and maybe together? Once again, though - Atlas falling, people in the crater die.

Smoke clears up to reveal Ruby, looking up to Atlas first in invasion mode, then peaceful. Turn to a shot of the group standing looking to the left, Yang and Ruby looking like they’re posed but the others just kind of standing there. It’s a weird shot, and I’m not sure what to make of it, honestly.

The ice breaks beneath Ruby’s feet, sending RWBY falling into a void, their bodies trailing those lights that we saw before. Ruby opens her eyes to see the brightest light, the Staff. She reaches out to it, but Grimm paws and hands drag her down. V6 callback?

The word Happy? flashes only to be crossed out, a sketchy Grimm roaring, then the words Ever then Never as it’s crossed out, with a sketchy Penny lifting her head and her eyes then face going red, then the words After Again being crossed out. I’m not really of the words - I think it’s going for a Happily Ever After Happy? Never Again thing, but there’s no Happily that I can see, and it just kind of comes across as a bit emo to me. I like the sketches of the Grimm and Penny - I think it might be a Wyvern Grimm or something like that, and the red spreading from Penny’s eyes to her entire outline is interesting. I wonder if it’s connected to the Maiden powers and how she’ll use them.

Sketches of RWBY’s weapon fall into the snow, Crescent Rose falling with the tip stuck in the snow, then a flash and a pull out to Crescent Rose in the snow in full animation, framed by the broken moon as rose petals fly by with the “Created by Monty Oum” credit appears. I really like this as a reference to the Red trailer, and compared to the very cluttered ending shot of V7, this is a nice change of pace.

I like this OP. It’s definitely above V7′s for me, with a good song and some beautiful animation in it’s visuals. If I had to criticize it, I would say that it feels very long and cluttered. My breakdown of the opening feels as long as everything I mentioned in the actual episode. I realize one was going almost shot by shot, while the other summarized, but the point still stands that this things feels longer than it needs to be (I’d have to check time stamps to see if it is actually significantly longer).

A more promising start, all in all, than I’d hoped for. Things irritate me for sure, Ironwood’s treatment, Ruby’s plan, all that stuff, but I know I would have those bones to pick going in. The shake-up of the usual teams and the promise of inter-group conflict is enough to get me to want more, and I look forward to seeing how my favorite characters will be utilized.

What are your thoughts on the episode? Reblog and comment down below, and we’ll start a convo.

Until next time~

#rwby #rwby8 #rwby volume 8 #rwby8 spoilers #rwby 8 spoilers #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xioa long #episode breakdown

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