#i have ideas for the next chapter hopefully ill start that soon

[sychosid]

I've prayed enough, I rolled the dice

"Hangman" Adam Page/Swerve Strickland

[Ao3 link]

Swerve Strickland's forgotten, until he's reminded, and now he has to follow the chain into the unknown, way out there.

(Lord Huron inspired AU)

Ancient Names, Pt. I.

It was by a roadside stop.

A young woman, with ochre tinted skin and green eyes sat there, at a table just outside the entrance to the brown brick building. She had jet black hair, a thick curtain of bangs covering her forehead. Her clothes were unremarkable: a purple and red hoodie, ripped black jeans, and black converse shoes. More notably were her various black piercings and tattoos. Industrials, conch, multiple lobe piercings. A septum piercing, a labret piercing, snake bites, and an eyebrow piercing on her right eyebrow. All black, either small hoops or simple studs. Around her wrist, just barely peeking out from her hoodie sleeve was a tattoo of barbed wire that seemed to go up her arm.

By all means, nothing was flashy about her to Swerve. Some girl into alt culture.

Her feet tapped along to an unknown beat, as she shuffled cards and aimlessly laid them down on a taffeta tablecloth. The cloth was red, embroidered in a rainbow of different celestial shapes. Stars, moons, ringed planets, suns. There was a clear handmade quality to the embroidery job. She would pick up the cards, roll some dice, lay cards down, and pick them up after looking them over. Her face changed from apathetic, to amused, to something adjacent to excited. Intrigued, even?

Swerve had been watching her for a while from his seat in his car. Ditching the sports car at home, he rented an SUV with some reasonable mileage. It still was a nice car, a deep red and only a year or so old.

He had been traveling alone. Leather jacket, fur lined around the neck covered his torso. He wore a hoodie, black, under the jacket, and tight fitting jeans with basketball shoes. His own scheme was reds and blacks. It amused him, the overlapping color scheme between himself and the young woman. The smirk on his face wouldn't exactly go away. Something was tempting him to humor the young lady. He had been observing as people walked by her, either ignoring her like she didn't exist, or whispering to each other and avoiding her like she was toxic to the touch.

There was a plastic fold out chair across from her, tucked into the table. In the twenty or so minutes he observed, not a single person sat down.

It wasn't a surprise. Normally these booths were set up to sell things like honey or local fruits. It wasn’t like there were any prices or things like that written down. Just…this young lady dealing cards and rolling dice to herself. 

Eventually, she stood up and went inside the rest stop building. That was when Swerve made his move. He exited his car, and walked to the folding table. Curiously, he looked over the set up, before pulling the plastic chair out and sitting down in it. There was a slight creak, the hard plastic bending a little under him. He leaned back, taking a photo of the table in front of him.

“That'll be five dollars.” The girl was next to him, silent like a stalking cat, holding a cup of something. Hershey's Ice Cream, with a straw in it. A milkshake.

Swerve hadn't even heard her come out but he didn't jump when she spoke. Still, a chill ran down his spine that he ignored, before looking up at the girl. He could better see her makeup too. Red around her eyes, thin black eyeliner, and black lipstick.

There was something about her dark green eyes; the amused smile on her face. It left another chill down his spine. This girl was cold.

“I’m kidding. I do everything for free. Sort of. I don’t take cash.” She moved around the table, sitting down across from the dark haired man. “I’m Caroline Cain.”

“Swerve. Strickland.” He introduces himself, leaning back in the plastic chair. He keeps up the unphased demeanor, despite the skin crawling sensation that wouldn’t get away.

Caroline hummed in response. “You’re looking for something, aren’t you?”

“Looking for something? Little lady, I'm not looking for anything.” Swerve knew he was lying, to her, and to himself.

“You’re searching. Wandering. Aimless. You forgot, and you need to remember.”

“Listen–”

“YOU listen.” Caroline snaps, squinting her eyes. She has the cards in hand, shuffling them and putting them down before grabbing the handful of dice. She holds them out, right in front of his mouth. “Blow.”

He follows the command as if compelled by her words.

She rolls the dice, the sound against the taffeta soft.

And then again,

And again.

Swerve looks over at the dice. A skull, a six, a four, and two twos.

“You’re looking for the Dead Eye. Your luck has been set back. You don’t even realize it. There’s much in your life you don’t even know you’re missing, you’re not seeing.”

Swerve stared down at the dice. At the skull.

“It counts as one. You’re real lonesome. A lone cowboy, hm?”

“I’m not the cowboy.” The response was automatic, Swerve snapping his head up. Caroline looked…smug? Curious? Her face was unreadable to him. It unsettled him.

“Mmm…no you’re not.” She nodded, putting the dice aside and grabbing the deck of cards. They were playing cards, simple enough. 

The joker. And two twos. Three cards. 

The joker, a dancing skeleton. One of the two cards was a skull, and the other was two moons. He’d never seen cards with suits like this. 

“You’re looking for him. The joker, and you’re walking parallel paths. He and you, you’re undergoing a great change. You both have to follow your intuition. The ■■■■■ is broken, but you can fix it. Follow the ■■■■ ■■■■■. You need to–”

“That’s it. Whatever bullshit scam this is, it’s over.”

“Scam?” Caroline hummed, looking to the side. “If you say so.”

He pulls out his wallet, taking out a twenty dollar bill and throwing it on the table before walking away. She waves a little, smiling.

Swerve doesn’t look back.

The sky had been clear, but there was thick cloud coverage moving in from the southeast. It was dark, gray clouds. A storm was rolling in while Swerve got in his rental car. He drove away, turning his headlights on as he exited the parking lot. Something was harrowing about that interaction.

There was a chill in his bones as he drove into the storm, his head drowning in thoughts, flashes, memories that he couldn’t remember.

Hail hit his car, small pellets, 

before driving into rain, 

into snow. 

The roads were winding,

up and down,

unfamiliar to Swerve.

His car drove into the mist, descending into the valley of a hill. 

He was driving for hours. 

He was driving for minutes. 

Through decades, through eons, through nothing, through everything. 

His younger self, somewhere on the streets of Seattle. His veins, filled with void. He didn’t know, but he did. He wanted to be somewhere, he had to be.

Where did he have to be?

A familiar face, familiar dirty blonde hair, blood spilling out. Choking on it. Gurgling up, uncanny taste of metal as he can’t breathe anymore, his neck is chained, he can’t breathe–

Swerve sits up with a start, in a motel room. Cold sweat drips down his forehead, the hum of the radiator and his own breathing filling the room. A car passes by, headlights briefly illuminating the room. There’s the shadow of a man, tall and broad. His hair is to his shoulders, and that’s all Swerve can tell. He’s familiar as much as he’s unfamiliar. 

At the edge of the bed, there it is. The chain from his dream. The chain that was wrapped around the shadow’s neck.

He reaches out, and it’s colder than ice, and it hurts, but he reaches out and holds it and brings it up, and sees it, sees the rust and the dried blood, flaking off, and something compels him, draws him in, and he brings his lips to the blood and it’s sweet and it’s warm and it’s like everything he’s needed and it’s like nothing he’s ever had.

He knows now, his soul does, that this was what he needed to find. What Caroline had said. What she was saying. This chain was binding, and it had been broken, and now he had to follow it to way out there to find what he needed.

He had to follow the chain.

To him.

[seventh-district]

several days and 15 thousand words later, i am relieved to report that the suffocating urge to Write Something has been sated and no longer has me in a chokehold

[lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me]

⋆୨♡୧⋆bitchless era ending soon⋆୨♡୧⋆

walking into the meeting room y/n couldn’t help but internally scream. what the hell was he doing here? why didn’t her manager tell her about this? especially since she was just in practice and didn’t have time to dress up and hopefully look not a hot mess. her mouth dropped open in shock, resisting the urge to yell “what the fuck” in front of everyone. after a moment of awkward silence her manager spoke up. “y/n meet riki, riki meet y/n. you guys will be working together from now on. we set up this time for you to meet and talk and get to know each other.” she gestured to riki’s manager, “we’ll be going so you two can talk freely. have fun!” the two left and left riki and y/n alone. while y/n was having her internal panic, little did she know, so was he. the moment he saw her he knew he was fucked. after heeseung gave him no help, he had no idea what to say to her. “soo…” he said “your debut was really good!”. y/n didn’t know what to do. her celebrity crush of 3 years, just complimented her music. all that she could muster was “uh- thanks you too”. thanks you too???? why the hell would she say that? he laughs slightly, not being able to help but think about how cute she was. “um are you excited to start mcing?” she asks, nervousness clear in her voice. he smiled, “yeah i am, what about you?” she tried her absolute hardest to not say something stupid again and said “yeah! just a little nervous though. i’ve never done anything like this before.” riki saw his opportunity, he knew he had to take it. even though he had absolutely no idea what he was doing. “we should hang out sometime. i’ve done it a couple times before, i could give you some tips to make it easier!” no. fucking. way. too many thoughts were running through y/ns head. did nishimura riki really just ask her to hang out? there’s no way this is real. never did she think that this would happen “uhhhh- yeah! yeah sure that would be fun!” whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck “okay nice! how about tomorrow?” whatshappeningwhatshappeningwhatshappening “yeah sure. that sounds perfect” holy. shit. cha y/n is hanging out with nishimura riki. “okay, ill see you then” riki had never been more nervous in his whole life. he couldn’t wait to shove this in all of his members faces. “im sure you have to get back to practice, right?” there was no shock as to why he knew that, she looked like a sweaty mess. “yeah, actually. i do. so i’ll see you then!” she overthought her every word, and move. how could she not when she’s around him. to her, he was perfect. “see you around!” riki left the room and practically ran back to his dorm. that couldn’t have gone better. y/n however, was freaking the ever living hell out. “did nishimura riki just ask me out? no that’s not possible we just met eachother! it’s friendly! that’s all!” after what felt like hours of contemplating she decided to go back to the dorm, tweet about it, and tell taesan and jaehyun. i mean, how was she supposed to go back to practice after something like this?

masterlist | next | previous

luckys note!: i’m sorry this took so long guys!! schools getting crazy since it’s almost the end of the year. but i hope you enjoyed the first written chapter! this is my first time like, actually writing so i hope it turned out good!

© lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.

(📍) PERM TAGLIST IS OPEN!

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(dm me/comment under the midnight fiction masterlist to be added!)

[dewdewick]

Shadows in the dust |

Chapter 6

Pairing/s: Finnick Odair x fem reader

Summary: At the age of 18 you thought you’d soon be free of the hunger games, unfortunately fate has a different plan. You are picked as a tribute for district 2 and thrust into capitol life.

Warning/s: Angst, Hurt/comfort, Trust issues, Death, Torture, Mental illnesses, manipulation tactics, Weapons, Swearing, Canon typical violence, Mentions of psychological distress, Use of Y/N, Fem reader, descriptions of clothing reader wears, explicit descriptions of weapon use

A/N: I’m back! The chapter is short but only because the next one is gonna be LONGGG. As always Thank you to the Betas, I owe you my firstborn child.

Word count: 2K

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

Fire caught wood, sending sparks up into the air like fireflies. Y/N sat back as the fire began to grow, looking at the young boy next to her with a guilt in her eyes. “What are you doing there honey?” She asked, watching him pick at the fish they had caught. Caspian blinked quickly, regaining focus as he had been lost in thought. “Finishing Scaling the fish so we can cook it” he said simply, a questioning look at her as if his answer was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh I’ve never really done much fishing, District 2 isn’t actually much different from the arena.” She said, still watching him work “do you think you could teach me?” She asked after a moment of silence. “I’ll show you how to make herbal medicine for pain relief,” she offered. He furrowed his brow before nodding, “yeah ok that sounds like a good trade, my legs hurt pretty bad anyway.” He mentioned, motioning to the bite marks on his calves and thighs.

She perked up a bit, grabbing the tortoise shell and retrieving the small tin of salve “I actually have something for that!” She said with a small smile. unscrewing the lid on the tin and putting a bit of the medicine on each bite mark. She knew he was still upset about Meena, but hopefully a small kindness could help ease the tension a bit. As she finished she looked into the tin, realizing she didn’t have enough salve for her own leg ;she scrunched her nose but simply screwed the lid back on and set it down. They sat silently for a few seconds before he spoke “Finch said you were kind.” He said simply and quietly. She looked up from the tin and finally meet his eyes. “I try my best,” she replied, a tired smile on her face. He averted his eyes from her gaze again, looking down to the knife in his hand. He took the fish and turned to face her better, placing the knife right below the gills. “Watch carefully” he said, slicing into the fish.

He carefully removed the head and tail of the fish, pulling out the spine. He used the knife to scrape out the guts of the fish, pouring a bit of water on the meat to clear out any blood. Afterwards he expertly pulled out most of the small bones that remained, laying out the prepared filets. “That simple, might still have a few little bones but it’s the quickest and easiest way.” He explained. “Seems easy enough but I might need a few more lessons.” She said with a small laugh “I got about a third of that, plus to be honest I’m not sure I know where to cut quite yet.” She smiled. He smiled as well, grabbing another fish and starting to scale the skin. “How about I show you again tonight and then we can have more hands-on learning when it’s light outside in the morning?” He asked, “Good idea, because I can’t teach you anything until tomorrow when it’s light enough anyway.” She replied in a bit of a relieved tone.

He made quick work of the fish as they spoke, gutting and deboning it with skill and accuracy. The two squired the meat on sharpened sticks, holding them over the fire to cook. “How old are you anyway?” Caspian asked, raking a hand through his curly blonde locks. She sighed, a bit of a grimace on her face “turned 18 a couple months ago, it was my last year.” She said, pursing her lips. “Ouch rough business” he said, sucking in a breath through his teeth. “Yeah it’s fine, not happy about it but I’m here so…” she shrugged, twirling her stick.

“Finch told us all about you, he’s been whining about it since the beginning. Apparently you’re pretty, thoughtful, kind and smart.” He teased. She wrinkled her nose and giggled, “you little jerk” she smiled “Maybe I am all of that” He only shook his head with the same smug smile “nah you seemed much better in the stories.” He further teased. “Oh I’ll show you punk” she smiled wider, “I’m totally awesome and super cool” she giggled.

He let out a boyish laugh, his sun kissed cheeks crinkling with the small dimples upon them. She twirled the stick squired with fish, a soft smile on her face. Watching the flames barely touch the meat, her mouth watered a bit. “When’s it done anyway? How do we know?” She asked, her attention fixed on the dancing flames. He shook his head with the same smile, “it’s done when it’s not that pink color anymore, then you gotta wait so you don’t burn your mouth.” He stated, once again, quaking an eyebrow like it was obvious.

“Well excuse me for not wanting food poisoning smarty pants” she quipped, once again scrunching her nose up in an upside down smile. “Maybe I’m kinda dumb when it comes to district 4 stuff but I’m pretty smart at district 2 stuff. I can kill a snake and I can get the venom from a scorpion pretty easily.” She grinned proudly. His eyes widened a bit and he inched a bit closer to her “wait really? That’s actually kinda cool” he nodded, waiting for her to say more.

“A few of the more affluent women in my district used to like to wear rattlesnake tails as jewelry. My siblings and I would catch them when we could and sell the tails to the jeweler in town. They threatened our cattle and set up burrows in the tall grass where they ate.” She explained. “And the scorpion venom was something I could sell too, it has a lot of uses both as a poison and a medicinal remedy.”

“You gotta show me how to do that, I can coat my spear in it!” Caspian said, his eyes full of excitement. “I dunno, I thought I wasn’t cool enough” she said with a smirk, her brow raising just as he had before. “I was kidding!” He whined, his shoulders dropping slightly.

She only laughed in response, ruffling his hair. “I’m kidding, you pretty much fed me tonight so of course I’ll help you.” She grinned.

He pulled his stick out of the fire and looked over the meat “speaking of food, it looks pretty much done” he commented, blowing on the filet. She pulled her stick towards her, examining it closely and poking her finger into the meat. She pulled back quickly, the food much too hot to even touch. The two sat in silence for a few minutes, blowing on their hot dinner and mentally willing it to cool off. After a while the meal was finally cool enough, the two teens eating their portions within minutes. It was a bit of a chewy meat but delicious nonetheless. After not eating for a while she felt she would’ve devoured anything at that moment. After they ate the wind began to slowly pick up, blowing stronger and stronger as the fire died out.

Caspian shivered as he backed into the cornucopia, curling up in a corner with his weapon in hand. Y/N did the same before looking over at the younger boy “sweetheart why don’t you come over here? It’ll be warmer together.” She suggested, offering a hand. He scrunched up his face as he thought for a moment before standing up and shuffling over to her. They sat shoulder to shoulder for a moment silently before she cracked a smile. “Can I put my arm around you? Promise it'll be warmer” she asked.

His blonde curls blew in the wind as he nodded, tucking his shoulder under her arm and smushing his cheek against her clavicle. She shuffled even closer and wrapped her arms around him, resting her chin in his hair. He exhaled at the warmth, closing his eyes in exhaustion. It wasn’t long until he was in a semblance of sleep against her. He reminded her of one of strays that roamed her families property, wronged by the world but still so willing to take a gamble on love.

“Sleep good sweetheart” she whispered, her words lost in the strong roar of the wind. She let her cheek rest on top of his head, closing her eyes and exhaling. Exhaustion took over her body, putting her to sleep despite the loud whipping of the wind.

The sun rose after only a few hours, it’s warm rays shining on the two teens. Y/n blinked her eyes to wake up, the gravely feeling of dust urging them to remain closed. Caspians wavy blonde lacks tickled her nose as he laid snuggled against her chest. She gently brought a hand up, petting his hair absentmindedly with a soft smile. “Time to wake up sunshine” she whispered, her hand traveling to rub his back.

The young boy mumbled a few unintelligible words, his bleary eyes squinting up at her as she grinned. “Good morning” she muttered, sweeping a lock of hair out of his eyes. He sat up tiredly, stretching and hunching over a bit “m’ exhausted” he yawned. “I know the feeling” she said, taking her jacket off and balling it up. She set it on his lap as she stood “why don’t you take a bit longer of a nap honey? I’ll look around for some breakfast.” She offered. He nodded slowly, putting her jacket under his head and curling into himself a bit on the ground.

She silently laughed to herself, looking out into the arena. She decided to forage a bit, try to see what she could find in an obviously more popular area of the arena. She wondered if the game makers had purposely put more food around for the careers or not.

The sun was hot on her back as she looked around the shining gold cornucopia, finding a few familiar sprouts of greenery. She couldn’t help but also track a few marks in the dust, it was obvious a lizard of some sort was roaming around.

Finding a small hole she stomped on it, sending a medium sized lizard fleeing. She quickly used the pitchfork she carried to stab the animal in the back. It let out a sharp cry as it quickly died and she winced. Picking up the scaled animal and setting it atop the foliage she had collected, she began to make her way around the cornucopia again. The sun was higher in the sky and she figured it must’ve only been about an hour.

Turning the corner she saw it, the sword plunged into the dirt,

She looked up from the weapon, her eyes meeting familiar brown irises.

Finch.

[lemurlegs]

Bewitched

Hello everybody I'm finally back with a new chapter, I'm sorry it took so long, I had difficulty writing it, and i was a bit busy too. Anyways this chapter is longer. It explores a lot of things Ginger has done in her past, and we're gonna learn about the powers we possess.

Wordcount: 8.6k

Warning: murder, ritualistic sacrifice, cannibalism

Previous chapter

Chapter 5.

Dreams and powers

Alastors pov 

After a whole day of dealing with his wayward contracts, while his body didn't show it, he felt exhausted. He was ready to head back to the hotel and relax near his bayou.

As soon as he manifested in the living room, he caught sight of everyone sitting in a circle on the floor. Charlie immediately jumped up and greeted him, asking if he wanted to join their group activities.

Alastor wanted to refuse; he was tired and rarely felt the need to join in the silly exercises Charlie hosted. But before he could finish his sentence, she cut him off, explaining that they were sharing stories about their pasts and it was currently Ginger's turn. More information? How convenient.

He walked towards the group and settled on the couch next to them. No way in hell would the Radio Demon sit on the floor like some common sinner, he had a reputation to uphold. As he crossed his legs and got comfortable, after that he told Ginger to continue.

She started explaining that she had no idea why she ended up in Hell.

Alastor was confused, tilting his head at her comment. At the cafe that morning, she had mentioned using her womanly charm to manipulate men and hinted that she sometimes killed those she deemed worthy. To him, that seemed like a pretty obvious reason to be sent down here.

Charlie asked her to clarify.

"I mean that I don't think I'm innocent or something; I just don't know which of my sins got me here.” she shrugged. Answering nonchalantly.

At that, Angel Dust suggested she list her sins to figure out which one got her sent to Hell. Alastor was ecstatic; maybe her sins would explain her strange magical knowledge, and he might even learn what happened to her the day before, when she got attacked.

But as soon as he got his hopes up, Ginger quickly dismissed the idea. However, her response only made him more curious. A list of sins so long it would take hours to go over? Hoho, don't threaten him with a good time. 

That's when Alastor realized something. If she truly had committed so much evil, how did she manage it in such a short time? Not that he would ask a woman her age, of course—that would be ill-mannered—but she didn't look more than 27, but of course looks can be deceiving.

As he snapped out of his thoughts, he realized they had moved on to another topic. Charlie suggested that everyone name three things they were good at or enjoyed doing.

Angel's response made him grimace with disgust. The perverted spider always has a way of dampening his mood. He was listening to the group name their likes and talents, seemingly bored by how uninteresting they were. That's when he saw Ginger get excited about Husker's response.

“Magic, you say? What kind of magic?” her eyes were shimmering hopefully with a hint of excitement as she leaned towards the barcat.

Her happiness was short-lived when Husk clarified he was talking about card tricks.

Hmm, so she is indeed interested in magic. Maybe she's a practitioner. Or she could just be curious because of her attackers, since they clearly used magic on her. But how could she get herself in a situation like that on her first day? I mean, he knew this was hell but still. Maybe she knew her perpetrators? He shook off that though for now. Instead he began wondering about what kind of demon powers she might have and thought of ways to make her use them. That is, if she even knows she has them. Hmm, he hadn't considered that.

But Alastor didn’t have time to dwell on the topic any longer since it was now Ginger’s turn to share.

“Okay. Well, let’s see. I really like history, particularly the 1920s. I enjoy reading and I like singing. 

Particularly the 1920s? My, my, isn’t that interesting—a sinner as young as her interested in history, especially a time when he was alive? That's a rare sight.

After she finished, it was his turn. As he explained his love for jazz and cooking, as well as torturing souls, everyone fell silent at that of course, he sure loved getting a reaction from the crowd. Charlie quickly tried to salvage the situation and decided to call it a night.

Before they could leave, Ginger reminded everyone that Alastor hadn't answered the first question. Everyone was shocked by her boldness, even Alastor. He couldn't decide if it was boldness or foolishness.

To ask such a thing from him, the feared overlord, the master tormentor, the Radio Demon—it took guts, he had to admit that. He decided to humor her forwardness.

"My, my, quite bold, are we?" he said, his tone laced with amusement. "Well, if you must know, I was a serial killer in the 1920s, cleaning the streets of New Orleans. I'm quite certain that's why I'm here." He said proudly. 

As Alastor observed Ginger's serene smile and listened to her nonchalant acceptance of violence against the cruel and wicked, he felt an unfamiliar sensation stirring within him. It was a peculiar mix of intrigue, admiration, and something else—something he couldn't quite place.

The idea that someone shared his perspective on the nature of sin and punishment was undeniably intriguing to Alastor. Here stood someone who not only understood his worldview but embraced it. How exciting.

After this pleasant surprise, everyone left to retire for the night. Ginger walked to the kitchen for a quick dinner. This was the perfect opportunity to set his plan to discover her powers in motion. He used his shadow magic to warp behind her, ready to spook her, when she greeted him without even looking.

How in the ever-loving hell did she know he was there?—he thought. Narrowing his eyes, he stepped closer to her, looking down at the fox demon who is so full of secrets. 

When he asked, she gave an unsatisfactory response: a lucky guess. He almost rolled his eyes at that. Right, like he would believe that. He'd find out soon enough.

Alastor then began his plan. First step: getting her out of the hotel. That should be easy enough. He owned her, after all; she needed to listen to him.

“I need you to pick up some fresh cuts of meat from the butcher for me tomorrow. I'll write down the address for you.”

He conjured a notebook and pen, ready to scribble down the location, when she gave him a skeptical response and questioned his intentions. This made him a little annoyed. Who was she to question him? She had no right. He owned her.

He reminded her that her curiosity would get her in trouble if she kept asking more questions. She responded with sass. Oh, that’s it. He had been nice, but she needed to be taught a lesson. After all, he was the one in charge here—she needed to learn some respect.

Alastor threatened her, turning into his more demonic form, getting up in her face and telling her it was best if she did what she was told.

And to that, she didn't even flinch, as if she wasn't standing in front of a terrifying, cruel overlord. Giving a nonchalant response, she agreed, but it left him confused as to why she didn't react. Most demons would be cowering away in fear by now.

He wrote down the location and left her. He needed to think about the next steps of his plan. Once in his room, he lit the fireplace and sank down in his chair.

Step one was completed; now it was time for phase two. Once she went to pick up the meat as he asked, he planned to send one of his rowdy souls after her. He'd send those souls who had tested his patience, a lesson long overdue, he thought. And if she tore them apart? Well, he wouldn't mind. In fact, he hoped she did.

"Oh, how I wonder what kind of powers she has," he thought out loud. 

As Alastor's thoughts drifted towards Ginger's potential powers, he couldn't help but imagine the myriad ways they could be utilized to his advantage. Each possibility sparked a new wave of excitement, fueling his curiosity and ambition.

He envisioned Ginger wielding elemental magic, conjuring flames to engulf their enemies or summoning storms to wreak havoc upon their foes. With such power at his disposal, he could easily dominate the battlefield, using the forces of nature to bend his enemies to his will.

Or perhaps Ginger possessed the ability to manipulate minds, weaving illusions to deceive their adversaries or bending their thoughts to her whim. With such a power, she could infiltrate the minds of anybody.

Alastor's mind raced with possibilities, each scenario more tantalizing than the last. As he contemplated the many ways Ginger's powers could benefit him, Alastor's ambition burned brighter than ever before. With her by his side, he could ascend to even greater heights of power and influence, his name echoing throughout the halls of Hell as a force to be reckoned with. But first, he needed to uncover the truth about Ginger's abilities, and he was determined to do whatever it took to unlock her secrets.

After about some time he decided to check up on her room.

Maybe he could reveal something about her. After all, a person's room often tells a lot about them. He rose from his seat, left his room, and began approaching Ginger's room.

As Alastor strode through the dimly lit corridors of the hotel, his shadow danced eagerly along the walls, its form undulating and twisting with an otherworldly grace. It moved in tandem with Alastor's every step, a silent companion that mirrored his movements with uncanny precision.

As they approached Ginger's room, the shadow seemed to pulse with anticipation, its movements quickening with an eager anticipation. It hovered near the door, casting a dark silhouette against the wood as if eager to delve into the mysteries that lay beyond.

Alastor's voice echoed softly in the corridor, his words punctuated by a faint chuckle that reverberated through the air. As he spoke, his shadow danced eagerly beside him, its movements fluid and graceful.

"She's very interesting, isn't she?" Alastor mused aloud, his tone laced with a hint of amusement. "So full of secrets, and the longer I observe, the more questions appear."

His shadow seemed to sway in agreement, its form pulsating with a silent energy as if echoing Alastor's sentiments. 

Together, they stood outside Ginger's room, the anticipation palpable in the air as Alastor prepared to delve into the mysteries that laid beyond.

Holding his ear up to the door, he listened for any signs that might indicate she was still awake. Upon hearing light snoring, his smile widened. He began fading away into the shadows. Now in his dark incorporeal state, he reached under the doorway, trying to slide into the room. But as soon as he began slipping in, some sort of strong force ejected him. It was as if the very fabric of the magic repelled his intrusion, rejecting his shadowy essence with a forceful expulsion.

Thrown back against the opposite wall, Alastor's incorporeal form recoiled from the impact, momentarily stunned by the unexpected counterattack. Undeterred by the initial setback, Alastor attempted to regather his composure and make another attempt. Yet with each subsequent effort, the resistance only grew stronger, the strange magic proving to be a formidable obstacle to his shadowy form's entry. What the hell did she do to block HIS magic?

He started reforming into his physical form, clenching his fists in frustration. Stepping up to the door, he hovered his hand over it. Closing his eyes, he tried to focus, to see if he could feel anything magical. Surely enough, he began sensing a very strong locking seal on the entrance.

Opening his eyes, he began trying to reveal it. Maybe if he recognized the sigil, he could find a way to break it. The hand that was hovering over the door began to glow a soft green. Lifting his hand, he started moving it all around the wood, hoping to find the sigil's location.

As his hand reached the top of the door, a violet-colored glowing sigil revealed itself. So it was one hundred percent confirmed: Ginger was indeed someone who knew her way around magic. Judging by the fact that he couldn't recognize the marking, the lock kept him from entering, and the magic seal felt powerful. He knew she wasn't just some small fry witch—oh no, she was very strong. After all, keeping the Radio Demon out from anywhere was certainly an accomplishment.

As Alastor scrutinized the violet-colored sigil, he felt a palpable sense of power emanating from it. It wasn't just a simple ward; it was a formidable barrier, intricately woven with layers of protective magic. Each line and curve of the sigil seemed to pulse with energy, repelling any attempt to breach its defenses.

As he attempted to unravel the sigil's enchantments, he encountered resistance at every turn. It was as if the magic itself resisted his intrusion, pushing back against his efforts with a stubborn resilience. No matter how he tried to manipulate it, the sigil held firm, its protective barrier unyielding.

Frustration simmered beneath Alastor's calm exterior as he grappled with the realization that he was facing a foe of considerable power. The locking magic was not just keeping him out of the room; it was actively thwarting his attempts to understand it, a testament to Ginger's formidable abilities. With a sigh, Alastor withdrew his hand, acknowledging defeat for the time being. 

As he turned away from the door, his mind raced with possibilities. What other secrets lay hidden within Ginger's room, and what could they reveal about her true nature? Only time would tell, but one thing was certain: Ginger was not to be underestimated.

He started feeling glad he didn't eat her when he found her. But it made him wonder.

What else could she do?

Ginger's pov

As you slip into an unconscious state, it's as if you're descending into a soft, ethereal mist, cocooning you in its gentle embrace. Weightlessness overtakes your body, as if gravity has released its hold on your body. With each passing moment, your senses become hyper-aware, amplifying every sound, touch, and scent, pulling you deeper into the enchanting realm of dreams.

Once you fall completely asleep you find yourself surrounded by an ocean of blackness. As you swim through the boundless void, your mind clears like the dissipating mist, allowing you to focus with newfound clarity. 

With a whispered command of your imagination, the shapeless expanse begins to ripple and shimmer, as if responding to your words.

Slowly at first, tendrils of color emerge, painting delicate hues upon the empty canvas. Shades of emerald green intertwine with the deepest ebony, weaving a tapestry of shadows and light. The void trembles with anticipation, eager to take form under the spell of your creative will.

As your focus on the image you're trying to create the transformation quickens, and before your eyes, the formless void begins to coalesce into solid substance. Trees materialize from the darkness, their gnarled branches reaching skyward like ancient sentinels guarding the secrets of the forest.

Leaves unfurl in a symphony of verdant whispers, and the earth beneath your feet takes shape, soft and yielding to your touch. The air thrums with the pulse of life, carrying the scent of moss and damp earth on its invisible currents.

With a final surge of energy, the metamorphosis is complete—a dense, dark forest now stretches as far as the eye can see, its canopy of foliage obscuring the starry sky above. 

Stepping onto solid ground, you feel the damp earth beneath your feet, and the cool breeze blowing through your ginger hair. Your senses are immediately drawn to a soft, white glow hovering just ahead. The orb emits a gentle luminescence, casting flickering shadows upon the towering trees surrounding you. The orb floats effortlessly ahead of you, leading you deeper into the heart of the forest. As you follow its gentle guidance, the dense foliage begins to thin, revealing a clearing bathed in the silvery light of the full moon.

At the center of the clearing, you pause, mesmerized by the celestial beauty above. And as you gaze upon the luminous orb hovering before you, a presence begins to materialize—the figure of the Goddess emerges from the ethereal glow, her presence commanding the space around her. She is adorned with long, flowing black hair that cascades around her like wispy shadowy tendrils, moving with an otherworldly grace.

Upon her forehead, a shimmering moon sigil gleams with an ancient power, marking her as a divine being of lunar origin. Her long flowy dress, a radiant silver hue, seems to shimmer and glow, its incorporeal form appearing almost ghostly against the backdrop of the night.

She floats effortlessly above the forest floor, her gaze fixed upon you with eyes that are completely white, devoid of iris or pupils.

Surrounding her is a dark aura, vast and impenetrable, swirling with an intensity that speaks of depths unknown. She is the embodiment of darkness itself, not in its malevolent sense, but as its keeper.

She is Mona, the Moon Goddess. 

When she fully manifests before you, you bow to the powerful Goddess. As you raise your head, she extends her hand, and you watch in awe as it transforms. At first, it is an indistinct shadow, a mere silhouette in the dim light. Slowly, it begins to change, like smoke swirling and condensing into a solid form. The edges of the shadow blur and ripple, then start to coalesce, becoming more defined. Dark wisps of energy dance and weave together, gradually shaping into the delicate contours of a hand. The hand becomes fully corporeal, rich with the detail of veins, knuckles, and the soft, warm skin of a living being. 

She cups your cheek, and you lean into her touch, feeling the comforting dark energy seep into your very being. Calm washes over you, and your worries slip away under her warm, motherly touch.

She withdraws her hand and begins to speak, her voice resonating through the dark forest.

“What brings you here, my child?”

“I seek your guidance, Mother. I have descended into your realm, Hell. I’m trapped in a situation I cannot escape without your help. The coven of the Sun God, your brother’s worshippers, are here. They have cursed me, condemned my soul to rot away within a year. Please, Goddess, tell me you can help.”

You remove your clothes to reveal the sigil to the Goddess. She steps closer and with a delicate touch of her fingertips, tracing around the scar, she examines the curse. Her expression grows sorrowful as she reveals her answer.

“I’m sorry, my child, but the only one who's able to undo the spell is the one who casted, either by their own volition or by death.”

You felt your heart sink. Your coven, they would never forgive you, they have too much hate for you. And killing them? Well easier said than done, there's a lot of members and they are a lot more powerful than you are, especially together. It was hopeless. 

“No, no, no!” You groan in frustration, the tension gripping you like a vise. With a heavy heart, you bury your face in your hands, fingers digging into your scalp as if trying to alleviate the weight of your despair. Each breath feels labored, each moment filled with a sense of hopeless anguish that threatens to consume you whole.

It was all over, you're going to die in a year and there's nothing you can do. 

You feel a warm hand touch your shoulder, sending a calming energy through your spine. You sigh, gradually calming down from the Goddesses comforting touch. That's when you realize you are still in danger, the coven can still find you and drag you back to the torture cell. Not to mention not wanting to involve the hotel in this mess, that would surely end horribly.

You lift your head to look at Mona, a small empathetic smile on her face as she looks at you. You wipe off the tears that you just realized were rolling down your cheek. With a few sniffles and shaky breaths you finally gain back some composure. 

“There is another matter you might be able to help me with, Mother. I want to learn about my demon powers and how to use them. If the coven returns and tries to hurt me again, I need to be prepared. Could you please show me how to harness my powers?”

With a warm, reassuring smile, Mona extends her hand. As she does, shadowy tendrils emerge from her fingertips, weaving through the forest like hungry serpents. They consume the surroundings, devouring the familiar landscape until all that remains is a dark void. In this abyss, the only source of illumination is the faint, ethereal glow emanating from the Goddess herself.

“Let's begin," says the Goddess.

"To discover your powers, you must delve deep within yourself, exploring the darkest corners of your past. Take a deep breath and reflect, recalling your most grievous transgressions."

You inhale deeply, centering yourself, and begin to sift through your memories, navigating the murky depths of your past misdeeds.

As you focus on a particular memory, your surroundings shift. You and the Goddess materialize within the memory itself, witnessing your past unfold like scenes from a movie.

It's a memory of the first person you killed after massacring your coven. You wanted to steal his money since you were low on cash. The tavern you've been working in as a barmaid barely made you enough to get by. He was sitting at one of the tables close to the bar, already heavily inebriated. He was taller than you, but not by a lot, he was also a smaller skinnier build. Not a very attractive fella. He was known to be a drunkard, hitting on the barmaids, touching them inappropriately. He was the perfect target. 

Approaching him with measured steps, you wear a practiced seductive smile, your eyes gleaming with calculated allure. As you settle onto his lap, you can feel the weight of his gaze, clouded by intoxication, lingering on your form as the smell of sweat and ale filling your senses.

Leaning in close, you weave a tapestry of lies with your words, each syllable dripping with honeyed deceit. You stroke his ego, praising his strength and attractiveness, while subtly steering the conversation to your advantage.

With every whispered compliment, you draw him deeper into your web of deception, until he's putty in your hands, oblivious to the danger lurking beneath your facade.

After a few more drinks and a skillful exchange of words, you deftly pilfer the man's pouch without him even noticing, slipping away from the table with your prize in hand. Leaving the drunken mess of a man to his own devices, you disappear into the shadows of the tavern.

Days later, a group of men emerged from the doorway, stomping in angrily into the tavern. You recognized one of the men as the one you stole from a few nights ago. 

They approached you, shouting a growling demanding you give the guys money back. You try to calmly explain that you don't have the money. You tell them that you're poor and you work because your husband can't. You explained how you stole the money to buy medicine for him. They seem to ignore your words, throwing insults and threats your way. That's when the owner shows up and demands that they leave his tavern.

With a few more insults and profanities exchanged, the men left. After your shift finishes and you begin walking home, immediately feeling uneasy. Your intuition tells you to beware. Glancing over your shoulder, you catch sight of the men trailing behind, their menacing silhouettes growing ever closer. The men from the tavern hot on your feet as you speed up, eventually turning to a full sprint. Ducking into a narrow alleyway, you press yourself against the cold stone wall, breath coming in ragged gasps as you watch the men scour the area, their shadows looming ominously in the flickering lamplight.

One with a mustache comes close to your hiding spot. He's a lot bigger than the fella you robbed, he could easily overpower you. Sensing the need for a distraction, you whisper a barely audible incantation. A sudden loud bang reverberates from the other side of the street. Startled, the men pivot towards the noise, their attention diverted as they rush to investigate.

You have the chance to make your escape, but something mischievous starts bubbling within you. How much fun it would be to mess with them. You quietly run behind a tree, you begin slowly climbing it. From your elevated vantage point, you weave another spell, projecting your voice to the spot where you were originally concealed.

The men, drawn by the illusion, scramble to the empty hiding spot, their frustration evident as they find nothing. Delighting in the chaos you've created, you repeat the process, sending them on a wild goose chase around the alleyways. At some point your cheeks start hurting from smiling, trying very hard to keep the laughter escaping from your throat.

But soon, your amusement wanes, and you decide it's time to make your escape. With a final diversionary spell, you project the sound of running footsteps in the opposite direction, leading the men away as you slip quietly from your perch. As they give chase to the phantom sound, you descend from the tree, straightening your dress with a composed air, ready to disappear into the night.

As you descend from the tree, you're startled to find yourself face to face with the man you robbed days ago. 

“She's here!! The thief is— UGHH” instinct takes over and you swiftly plunge your pocket knife you always keep with you into his stomach.

He collapses, gasping for air, clutching his wound in agony. Despite the rush of power coursing through you, there's no time to revel in it. With a menacing smile, you turn to flee, but the approaching footsteps of the men from before hasten your departure.

As you sprint through the streets, desperation sets in, your breath coming in ragged gasps, your legs burning with exertion. With the men hot on your trail, you realize you can't outrun them for much longer. Frantically scanning your surroundings, your eyes alight on a nearby house with a clothesline adorned with drying garments.

Without hesitation, you dash towards it, ripping the men's clothing from the line and hastily donning the disguise. A hat pulled low over your brow completes the transformation, obscuring your features as you blend into the shadows of the night, evading capture once more.

“Hey, boy, have you seen a woman running this way?" 

The largest man pants, desperation evident in his voice. Without a word, you gesture in the opposite direction of your intended escape. They nod in gratitude, their footsteps quickening as they follow your false lead.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you hurry home, hastily packing your belongings as you prepare to leave the town behind. Before stepping out into the streets, you take a small knife and make a precise, deliberate cut across your palm, the pain sharp and immediate. Holding a deep bowl beneath your hand, you watch as the deep crimson blood drips steadily into it.

With your blood as the cornerstone of the ritual, you add rusty nails and rotten eggs, dried thorns and dead insects, a splash of vinegar, and a pinch of wormwood. These ingredients, potent and foul, amplify the dark energy of your spell.

Next, you write down the names of the men who pursued you, they were regulars so you have heard their names slip from their mouths. Placing the slips of paper into the bowl, each one soaking in the blood and other ingredients. The connection to your enemies is now tangible, their fate sealed within the mix.

Striking your flint and steel, you light the contents of the bowl. The flames flare up with an eerie glow, the blood sizzling and hissing as the hex activates. You watch intently as the fire consumes the mixture, the power of your blood magic sending waves of sickness and misfortune to the men who wronged you.

As the fire dies down to smoldering embers, you feel the energy of the hex solidify. With a final glance at the dying flames, you quickly duck out of your home, slipping into the night to begin your journey to another town, leaving the cursed remnants behind.

This was the first town you abandoned in such a manner. After three years of residing there, you depart due to a murder you committed, devoid of any remorse. It marks the beginning of a pattern, a cycle of fleeing from consequences that will repeat itself in towns to come. 

With the memory dissipating like smoke, shadowy tendrils throwing you into another.

As you delve into the next memory, the scene unfolds before you with chilling clarity. You find yourself in a dimly lit room, the air heavy with the scent of iron and decay. Your pulse quickens as you confront the man who dared to lay a hand on you.

It's 1886 and it's the first time you used your blood magic to kill someone. The man, Joseph, was someone you were fond of. You didn't exactly love him. No, the ability to love has been something you couldn't xperience anymore, and you'll be damned if you ever trust a man again. 

Either way he was somewhat close to you, but he mistook that friendship as something more. He tried to court you, not taking no for an answer. Joseph tried to get you to agree to go on a date with him several times, eventually he grew tired of you declining him and tried to use force against you. You two were in your home having a few drinks when he tried to kiss you. Pulling away from him only resorted to him grabbing you angrily to shove his lips against yours. You managed to escape his grip and knock him out quickly, he was out cold immediately as you broke a bottle of wine over his head. So that's where you were now, in the basement, with his form sprawled out on the cold altar table, bound and unconscious. 

It was the perfect time to try out a new ritual dedicated to the Huntress Goddess. You were trying to find a perfect victim after all, and of course not wanting to just kill any innocent rando, it was very convenient timing on his part really.

His face contorts in confusion as he begins to stir, awakening to find himself at your mercy.

As you stand before the bound man, his chest exposed on the altar, a tense silence fills the dimly lit basement. You can feel the weight of his gaze upon you, a mixture of fear and confusion flickering in his eyes. With a steady hand, you reach for your tools, the implements of your craft gleaming in the faint light.

“Why are you doing this?" he demands, his voice tinged with desperation. "What do you want from me?"

You pause, regarding him with a cool detached look. "What I want is of no consequence to you now," you reply, your voice low and steady. "You have trespassed against me, and now you must face the consequences."

His eyes widen in realization, a flicker of panic crossing his features. "Please," he pleads, his voice cracking with fear. "I didn't mean to hurt you. It was a mistake, I swear. We can fix this, go back to being friends." Joseph was begging like a pathetic puppy. Disgusting, he thought he could just have you, but what else did you expect from a man? They take what they don't own without hesitation or remorse. You are ready to make him pay for his actions.

You remain unmoved, your resolve unshakeable. "Words mean nothing now," you say, your tone devoid of emotion. Taking the sharp blade out of its sheet, a beautiful knife, with the handle made out of a deer antler, intricate symbols carved on it. "Actions have consequences, and yours have led you here.” you point the knife to his chest, you see his breath quicken, eyes widening, expression turning into that of a cornered animal. 

As you begin the ritual, his protests grow more frantic, his struggles against his bonds growing increasingly desperate, but you pay him no mind. Attaching the deer antlers to your victim, tying them to his head securely. You dedicated this animal, your perfect prey, to Fenja, the Huntress Goddess. Your focus is unwavering as you channel the dark energies swirling within you.

By offering this man's life to the Goddess, you will be granted protection from all dangers for an entire year. She will shield you from harm and guide you on the right path.

As the ritual reaches its climax, you draw upon the man's life force, draining his blood from his wrists with a steady hand. The crimson liquid flows into the deep bowl beneath him, pooling with dark intent as you prepare to channel its power.

With practiced precision, you carve intricate sigils into his chest, dedicated to the hunt, each stroke imbued with the ancient symbols of your craft. The man's skin yields to your touch, the marks etched into his flesh like a twisted tapestry of agony and despair.

With that you pick up your spell book, whispering incantations in an ancient language, praying to Fenja to grant you protection and to humbly accept the offering in trade. With the last words leaving your lips you hover over the man's sprawled out body. He's barely conscious because of the blood loss. With a savage determination, you reach for the sacrificial dagger at your side, its blade glinting in the dim light.

With a swift and merciless stroke, you plunge the deer bone dagger into the man's chest, tearing through muscle and sinew until you reach the prize you seek: his still-beating heart. With a triumphant cry, you wrench the heart from his chest, holding it aloft with a savage hunger in your eyes.

And then, without hesitation, you sink your teeth into the pulsing organ, tearing into its flesh with a primal ferocity. The taste of blood fills your mouth, a heady mixture of triumph and power coursing through your veins as you consume the man's essence. 

Your body quivers as a surge of power courses through you, each fiber vibrating with the intensity of the Huntress's magic. Your eyes alight with a mesmerizing hue of deep purple, as if infused with the very essence of the hunt.

The spell had worked, making that year incredibly peaceful. No one tried to expose you as a magic practitioner, you robbed and tricked people effortlessly, and you remained free from sickness and disease. It was perfect. The only downside was a little cannibalism, but with such a great payoff, why not? This ritual was just a modified version of what you did in the coven, where you used a raw deer heart instead of a human one. Somehow, the heart of this man gave you much more power than the deer’s. After that, you repeated the spell yearly.

As the memory begins to fade, reminders of past actions flicker into view, but before you can dwell on them for long, you're swiftly pulled into another memory, whisked away from the haunting echoes of the past.

As 1922 unfolded in New York, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. The roaring twenties were your favorite decade, even with the tragic things that happened, now you were witnessing its glorious resurgence. With anticipation bubbling inside you, you eagerly embraced the era's vibrancy and allure. It was time to relive the golden days of the twenties once again.

You were sitting on a barstool of your favorite speakeasy, sipping on bootleg hooch and whisky imported from England. The Blind Tiger was owned by a man who was famous all over New York. Marco Moretti, a notorious bootlegger, a cruel criminal who held the coppers in the palm of his hands, and insanely rich.

The velvety warmth of fine whisky caressed your throat, igniting a familiar thrill as you took another sip. A symphony of smoke and spirits swirled around you, mingling with the lively jazz melodies that pulsed through the air. Your finger traced the rhythm of the music on the table, echoing the fast-paced tempo. Amidst the sea of elegant suits and dazzling dresses, joyous laughter and spirited dancing filled the room, painting a vibrant tableau of revelry and indulgence. Ah what a time to be alive.

With a cigarette poised between your lips, you fished out your lighter from your bag, anticipating the comforting glow of a flame. However, despite your best efforts, the stubborn lighter remained unyielding, failing to spark. Frustration increases as you click it repeatedly.

*flick*

*flick*

*flick*

"Ugh, God damn it," you muttered, cursing the heavens for denying you the simple pleasure of a nicotine fix. Disheartened, you slumped forward, resting your head on the worn bar table. Suddenly, the faint sound of another flick and the crackle of fire caught your attention.

Raising your head, you leaned into the offered flame, finally igniting your cigarette. As a wave of calmness washed over you with each inhale, you glanced up to thank the gentleman responsible, only to realize you were face to face with an actual mobster, none other than Marco Moretti, the owner of the speakeasy.

“Thank you kindly, sir” you look at him and my my he was handsome too. 

“Of course Bella, it's my pleasure” he said, offering you a sweet smile.

As the night went on, you found yourself talking and laughing with him, the smoky haze of the speakeasy wrapping around you like a veil. Marco was more than just a notorious figure; he was magnetic, captivating, and before you knew it, you were drawn into his world.

You were good at deception and trickery, at least that's what you thought until you met him. But he was like a mastermind, always ten steps ahead, fooling everyone effortlessly. As you two got closer, Marco introduced you to the inner workings of his empire, teaching you the art of discretion and the finesse of manipulation. You became his confidant, his right hand, his partner in crime, and soon, the two of you were running New York together.

Horse races at Belmont Park became your playground. You and Marco would arrive in style, decked out in the finest attire. The crowds would part as you walked through, a power couple exuding confidence and control. You placed bets with an air of nonchalance, always seeming to know the right horse to back, thanks to the inside information Marco had at his disposal.

Nights were a spectacle of luxury and excess. Lavish balls hosted in grand mansions became the norm, where the city's elite mingled with the criminal elite under a veneer of propriety. You danced under crystal chandeliers, the jazz music lively as alway. Every event was an opportunity to forge alliances and reinforce your status.

But it wasn't just the glamor that defined your days. You were involved in the meticulous planning of heists and the orchestration of elaborate bootlegging operations. You learned how to navigate the treacherous waters of the criminal underworld, gaining a reputation for your cunning and ruthlessness. Together, you bribed officials, outsmarted rivals, and expanded your influence, making the Moretti name synonymous with both fear and respect all around the country.

One night, after a particularly successful operation that involved smuggling a massive shipment of whisky through the city's sewers, you and Marco stood on the rooftop of the Waldorf Astoria, looking out over the glittering skyline of New York. 

Marco turned to you, his expression serious. "We've come a long way, Bella. This city is ours for the taking, but we have to stay sharp. The higher we climb, the further we have to fall.” 

He pulled you close to his chest, kissed the top of your head. Your relationship with him was complicated. You two were necessarily a couple, but it wasn't friendship either.  It was a weird in-between thing you two had, since both of you knew that being together would do more harm than good. 

But you loved each other, maybe not in the romantic sense, but you cared for him deeply and he cared for you two. It felt like nothing could stop the two of you. That is until one fateful night tragedy struck.

It started as a routine operation, a delivery of bootleg whisky to a new speakeasy on the Lower East Side. You and Marco were confident, your plan meticulously crafted. But as you navigated the narrow alleyways, a trap was sprung. Rival gang members ambushed you. Gunfire erupted, the sharp cracks of pistols echoing off the brick walls.

Marco and you fought back fiercely, but you were outnumbered. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut—this wasn't just a skirmish; it was an execution.

“Get out of here, Bella!" Marco shouted, shoving you towards a narrow escape route between two buildings. "I'll hold them off!”

“Are you insane Marco, this is suicide!” you protested, your heart pounding with fear and anger.

“Go!" he commanded, his eyes fierce and determined. 

Tears stung your eyes as you hesitated, but the gravity of the situation forced you to comply. With one last, anguished look at Marco, you fled, the sounds of gunfire and shouts fading as you ran.

You found refuge in an abandoned warehouse, heart heavy with dread. Minutes felt like hours as you waited, hoping against hope that Marco would emerge from the shadows, unscathed. But deep down, you knew the truth. He was gone.

The grief and rage from Marco’s death propelled you back to the Moretti mansion with a fierce determination to regroup and plan your next move. However, as you approached, the eerie silence and the flickering lights filled you with a foreboding sense of dread. The usually bustling estate was ominously quiet.

You stepped inside, and the scene that greeted you was nothing short of a nightmare. Bodies of Marco’s loyal men and women lay scattered, their lives brutally snuffed out. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood, and your heart sank as you realized that the rival gang had struck again, this time with a devastating blow. 

Suddenly, rough hands grabbed you from behind, yanking you into the main hall where the leader of the rival gang, a menacing figure named Vito Rossi, stood smirking. His henchmen surrounded you, their faces twisted with malicious glee.

“Well, well, look who we have here,” Vito sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. “The infamous queen of the Moretti empire. Too bad your reign ends tonight.”

They tied you to a chair, and Vito leaned in close, his breath hot and rancid against your face. “We’ve taken everything—your money, your power, your family. Now, we’ll take your life.”

Stupid fools, they should have known better than to mess with you. And what they did to the Moretti family, the closest people you deemed family in a long while. People who took you in, accepted your wickedness, welcomed it and loved you for who you are. And they butchered them. Now they think they are going to kill you too? I don't think so.

Your heart pounded with fury, but on the outside you remained calm, closing your eyes you focused on the incantation.

“Blood be still, body freeze, halt their will, bring them to their knees.”

The words rolled off your tongue in a whisper, and a sudden chill filled the room. Vito paused, confusion flickering across his face as the room filled with dread, the feeling of dark magic surrounding them. His men looked around uneasily, their bravado wavering

“What the hell is—” Vito’s question was cut off as his blood began to freeze in his veins. One by one, the gang members’ eyes widened in terror, their bodies locking into place as the spell took hold.

With a flick of your fingers, the ropes binding you to the chair snapped, falling to the floor with a soft thud. You stood, your expression cold and resolute, and walked over to Vito, who was now immobilized, his eyes filled with a mix of horror and disbelief.

“You underestimated me,” you said softly, your voice echoing in the silent room. “And now you’ll pay the price.”

With deliberate steps, you collected the bags of money they had stolen, securing them in a large satchel. The room remained deathly silent, save for the faint clicking of your heels on the tiled floor.

1928, you're sitting on a train, with bags full of cash and a broken life. Heading to New Orleans, changing your appearance, starting a new life. This wasn't the first time you've done this, so why does it hurt to leave? 

Even with the pain of losing someone so important to you, you find yourself happy in a bittersweet way. With deep breath you're ready to create a new life for yourself once more. 

The air is thick with the scent of smoke, mingling with the metallic tang of fear. Dark figures loom around a crackling bonfire, their distorted shapes dancing eerily in the flickering light. Voices rise in a cacophony of chants, their words twisted and distorted, sending shivers down your spine.

Amidst the chaos, a haunting sound cuts through the night air – the heart-wrenching cry of a child, its echoes reverberating through the darkness. You can feel the weight of despair pressing down on you as you strain to shut out the horrifying scene unfolding before you. Your breathing quickens, vision blurs as you drop to the floor. With your eyes trained on the ground, you pull on your ears, trying to ground yourself somehow as you relive the worst thing that happened to you.

Suddenly, there's a sickening gurgle, followed by a woman screaming, and then unsettling silence that hangs heavy in the air like a shroud. Your heart clenches as you realize the depth of the darkness that surrounds this memory, its tendrils reaching out to ensnare you in its grip. With a sense of dread, you shut your eyes tightly, trying to escape the haunting images that threaten to consume you whole.

That's when you feel a pair of hands grip you, yanking you from the deep dark memory. Tears are rolling down your cheeks, your heart rate slowing down as you realize that the Goddess pulled you out of the nightmare. Looking around you find yourself back in the void, Mona close to you, comforting you after the painful reminder of your past. 

“It seems this is not something we're ready to look through. Moving through memories like this can be dangerous if we get too lost in them. They can pull you in, making you relive them forever. I needed to pull you out when you reacted in such a manner.” 

You turn towards the Goddess, slowly coming back to your normal self, pushing down the thoughts of pain and suffering. 

“Was it enough revisiting to know what kind of demon magic I have?” You ask tiredly, hoping that you don't have to jump to another memory again.

“Yes, it will be enough”replied the Goddess.

“So, what kind of magic do I possess?“

“What is it that you've observed my child?” Asked the Goddess.

“I tricked them. I used my words, my magic, my womanly charms and my resourcefulness and fooled all of them. And once I was done, I changed my appearance and my name and moved away, just to do it all over again. Those who deserved my help, I protected fiercely and those who crossed me paid the price.”

“And what kind of power would you possess if this is what you did in life”

“Trickery?” You ask.

The Goddess Mona, with her ethereal glow and an air of timeless wisdom, smiles at your realization. "Indeed, trickery is your gift," she affirms, her voice a melodic whisper that reverberates through the obsidian walls of the training room. "The power of trickery is multifaceted and incredibly potent. Let me explain the abilities you can harness from it."

She raises her hand, and a cascade of shimmering shadows forms a delicate, intricate web in the air. The web is a mesmerizing tapestry, each thread pulsating with a different hue, weaving a vibrant display of color and shadow. The strands are as fine as spider silk, interlacing in complex patterns that shift and shimmer as they move.

"First, you have the ability of Illusions," she begins, her fingers dancing through the threads. "You can manipulate the senses of others, creating images and sounds that deceive and confuse. With practice, you can even craft entire landscapes, making your enemies question their reality."

A thread of silver light glows brighter, and she touches it gently. "Next is Shape-shifting. You have the power to alter your appearance at will, adopting new forms to blend in, evade capture, or mislead. This ability goes beyond mere disguise; you can mimic voices, mannerisms, and even the aura of those you emulate."

The web shifts, and a dark, almost invisible thread comes to the forefront. "Then there is Invisibility. By bending light and shadow, you can render yourself unseen. This can be momentary, a flicker to avoid detection, or sustained to move unseen through the world."

Mona's hand moves to a vibrant, glowing thread of pink. "You also possess Charm and Persuasion. This isn't just about speaking convincingly; you can infuse your words with magic, compelling others to see things your way, believe your lies, or even act against their own interests. With this, you can sway the minds and hearts of those around you."

Finally, she touches a deep crimson thread, pulsating with a dark energy. "And then there is Blood Bending. This is unusual but since you used your blood in your craft while you were alive it is not surprising that you possess this gift. This rare and formidable power allows you to manipulate the blood within living beings. You can control their movements, immobilize them, or even inflict pain. This ability is incredibly dangerous and must be wielded with the utmost caution. It gives you dominion over life itself, turning your enemies into mere puppets under your command."

Mona lets the web dissolve, its threads dissipating like mist. She steps closer, placing a hand on your shoulder, her touch warm and reassuring. "These are your gifts, the powers of trickery. They are tools for survival and conquest. But remember, with great power comes great responsibility. Use them wisely, my child."

“Thank you Goddess, I really appreciate your help” you bow to her in gratitude as the space shifts again, returning to the dark forest. 

“I think it's time you returned to the real world now, child. You should practice your powers.” 

Without much time to process her words, She snaps her finger and you're jolted awake from your bed. 

Oh my, you're quite a powerful demon. 

[wolfprincesszola]

The Fate of the Marked Six Chapter 12

i just realized that a couple of the old chapters have some formatting issues but i'm not sure where, so ig they're staying there until i get it pointed out or find it T-T. but anyways, WOAHHHH WE'RE HALFWAY THEREEEEE~. can't wait to finish with this because the climax keeps building. as always, reblogs and likes are appreciated! enjoy <3 ——————– Summary: Virgil moves into a new town and meets Roman, a ghost that he promises to help in finding the unfinished business needed to pass over. However, Roman's past seemed to be deeply muddled with trouble, an uncurable disease that has started to affect a classmate, and a certain tight-lipped valedictorian. Friendships are made and Virgil finds himself thrown into a situation far more complicated and twisted than he signed up. Hopefully, with the help of his new five friends, he can find a way to bring peace to the town once and for all.

Trigger Warning: None

Content Warning: Possible Death, Illness, Swearing

<Masterlist>

<Previous> <Next> ——————–

Chapter 12

Patton was going to be honest, he hated the idea of having a crush on Logan. It made his skin crawl with the uncertainty of how his feelings would one day be happy to see Logan, and the next be absolutely devastated. He had crushes before, but not like this. Not like him.

He thought the worst part about the idea of having a crush on Logan was the fact that he knew Logan wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings back. Logan was too apathetic, too robotic, too studious, too reserved. Not only that, but he didn’t know anything about Logan. Sure, Patton knew his favorite color, but he didn’t know Logan's darkest secrets or what Logan wanted to study. Yet, Patton couldn’t stop talking about Logan to all his friends.

He knew that everyone was already getting annoyed at how much he could say about Logan. It was already annoying to Patton to continue talking about Logan. Patton learned more just by observing Logan. He wore the same style every day, with a pair of khaki pants (or jeans if he was feeling risky), dress shoes, a black polo shirt, and a tie. He almost looked like he was wearing a school uniform, but the tie was always different. Logan even had a system. Dark blue on Monday, light blue on Tuesdays, black on Wednesdays, brown on Thursdays, and finally striped dark blue and light blue on Fridays. On occasions, he would wear a goofy pattern that had anatomical brains or of books, which Patton admitted was the best on Logan. It gave Logan personality that he severely lacked with such roboticism.

However, after Patton dumped paint on Logan and had felt bad, he realized how pretty Logan looked in the outfit Patton picked for him. He looked more like himself in the clothes he had stolen out of his own closet. Even if it was Patton's style, Logan decided not to wear the cardigan over his shoulders the same way Patton did. Instead, he wore the cardigan like it was supposed to be worn and it looked sophisticated on him. However, it was short lived as soon enough, Patton found a bag filled with neatly folded and freshly washed clothes containing the outfit Patton had given Logan.

Patton decided to try to make it his goal to help Logan feel like he belonged in the world. Because it seemed the way Logan was dressing and the way he was acting was not the true way Logan wanted to act.

-+=~=+-

“Hey guys, what’s going on here?” Patton asked as he walked up to the group huddling. Logan and Virgil were in the middle with notes, with Remus and Janus over them, looking at the notes.

“We’re discussing Remus’s illness.” Logan spoke, pointing to his neatly written notes about what he’s gathered.

“I’m currently stuck with him.” Janus clicked his tongue as he lifted his hand to show Remus’s hand intertwined with his. “We can’t let the ghost hear.”

“Tragic.” Remus grinned at Janus to show that he was almost ecstatic to try and goof off with Janus, but Janus was keeping him from doing just that.

“And yet somehow, you guys don’t seem too sad about it.” Patton remarked as he patted Remus’s back, “You feeling alright, kiddo?”

“Yeah.” Remus nodded, looking up at Patton, who yelped and leaped back.

“What?” Logan looked up immediately, a flash of concern fading away as soon as he saw Patton was unhurt.

“Wait…it’s not there anymore.” Patton raised an eyebrow.

“What’s not there anymore?” Virgil asked, raising his eyebrow.

“Sorry. It’s just that….for a second, I swore I could’ve seen something engraved on Remus’s forehead. It looked like a symbol.”

Janus and Remus exchanged a knowing look.

“What did you do to see that symbol?”

“I just pat Remus’s back.” Patton muttered.

“Okay, stay still and try not to jump.” Logan muttered before he motioned for Remus to do something. Remus reached out and gripped his arm, just tight enough so that Patton couldn’t move it easily and just loose enough to not hurt him.

Patton watched as the symbol faded in, and soon enough he could see it on everyone around him. “Everyone has symbols.”

“Can you write Logan’s down?” Janus and Remus asked at the same time.

Patton accepted the pencil that Logan had given, and he opened a new page for him to write it down.

As soon as they did, Logan, Janus, and Remus read it. It almost sounded synchronous.

“憦.” They all murmured.

"Wait, how do you know Chinese, Logan?" Janus raised an eyebrow, "I had to learn it because it was my power and I forced Remus to learn it."

"I took 2 years of Chinese because I already knew Spanish and Latin. Our school does not offer French, therefore I chose to learn Chinese." Logan remarked, almost as if it was obvious.

"How do you already know Spanish and Latin?" Patton asked with curiosity. "That would make you quadrilingual."

"Because my brother learned Spanish, so I learned it to tell him he was stupid in several other languages. Latin, I learned to help me ace the SATs. Are you telling me you haven't learned more than two languages?"

"Alright, before we get severely off-topic, what does that character mean?"

“It’s the fate of regret.” Janus explained, “I think Patton can see my power.”

“There’s no way.” Logan replied as he went to touch Remus’s arm. Immediately, he blinked. “Hey, Virgil, check this out.”

Then, all four of them were holding onto Remus, and were all staring at each other’s foreheads.

“死.” Logan murmured, earning a kick from Janus.

“Who has that?” Remus asked, his shoulders tensing up.

“You.” Logan stared at the symbol above Remus’s head.

“Janus told me that mine was 爱.”

“Maybe it changed.” Logan looked away, clearly haunted by what he had seen.

“Please explain to the two people that cannot understand whatever language that is.” Patton scowled.

“As you know, we're looking at Chinese characters." Logan replied, “Patton, your symbol is 爱. The fate of love.”

“Great!” Patton felt his heart swell. Maybe that meant he'd have amazing luck in love.

“No, not great. It’s not a fate really.” Janus murmured, “It’s a curse most of the time. Those marked with 爱 are destined to be cursed when it came to love.”

Patton screamed internally, knowing that it meant that it was probably why he had awful luck in his crushes with Logan being the worst of the pile.

“So what does Remus’s mean?” Virgil asked.

“Death.” Logan murmured, “He has a mark of death.”

“The mark of death, the baby’s breath, the favorite sun…” Remus murmured.

Logan scribbled something down in his notebook before turning to Remus, “What are you talking about?”

“Hm?”

“The rhyming. The mark of death, the baby’s breath, the favorite sun poem.”

“Oh…it’s just something in my mind. It’s nothing really.”

By the way Patton saw Janus look at Remus, he knew it really wasn’t nothing, but he wasn’t about to call them out if Remus wasn’t ready to talk about it.

Logan let go of Remus, “Either Patton or Virgil, try to touch the other instead of Remus.”

Virgil moved his hand two inches until he was only touching Patton, “I can still see the marks, even if I’m not touching Remus.”

Janus turned to Patton, holding his arm out, “Let go of Re and hold onto me instead.”

Patton stared at him, watching the symbols fade away as he let go of Remus. Then as he made contact with Janus again, he blinked. “I can see the symbols. They went away as soon as I let go of Remus, but they came back upon touching Janus.”

“Interesting.” Logan murmured before he walked over to grab onto Remus’s wrist. “You can let go of his hand, Janus. I need as much power as I can get. Once you see my eyes turn a different color, I need you to grab onto me. I want to see if something happens.”

“Your power of precognition?” Patton raised an eyebrow. “I thought it was a passive power.”

“When Remus’s power strengthens my magic, it allows for a vision.” Logan murmured as he readied himself, relaxing. Almost immediately after he did, he blinked and his eyes flashed into a different color. The beautiful brown that came from the dirt he used to plant flowers changed into a dark blue he saw in the ties Logan wore on Monday and Fridays.

Janus took that time to grab onto Logan’s wrist as well, and soon Patton was put forth into a vision.

It was a dark room. Patton could see Logan, sitting against the wall in chains, yelling out someone’s name. He looked worse than usual. His clothes looked like they had been worn for the last five days straight and his glasses were nowhere to be found. His hair was a mess. He looked tired and as if he could fall asleep at any minute, but still, his body persisted because his mind didn’t seem to want to fall asleep.

“Caleb!”

Who was Caleb? Did Logan trust him?

“Come out, you bastard, and face me!” Logan shouted. The room echoed.

Then, out of the darkness, there was a light that shone directly on Logan. He had to blink before he stared at the man in a black tux, holding a cane. The man's hair was slicked back, and looked about 40 to 50 years old. He grinned, using his cane to lift Logan’s chin up, “You smart little boy. Thank you for using my name.”

Logan moved his face away from the cane, glaring, “Where’s Patton?”

“Ah yes, your beloved-”

“He’s not-” Logan began frustratedly.

“Of course not.” Caleb scoffed, rolling his eyes as he cut off Logan, “It’s just that you came all the way here under the pretense of thinking he was in danger because of me.”

“Under the pretense…so you don’t have him?”

“No, you dolt.” Caleb scoffed, hitting Logan’s head with the cane, causing the cane to scrape against his head. He flinched in pain, but even after the cane drew blood, he didn’t scream of pain. “You’re the bait for him.”

“Why?” Logan croaked, “There is nothing I could offer him. I have been nothing but cruel to him all his life.”

“Oh, but you’re wrong. He was the first one to authorize a search party for you. He is still looking for you, even when the search party disbands for the night. Even when your parents have stopped looking for the night to get some rest, he shows up to school after getting an hour of sleep with no luck of finding where you were. Right now, he has been a mess since you’ve been gone.”

“It doesn’t make sense.” Logan scoffed, “You’re lying.”

Caleb rolled his eyes before he waved his hand and suddenly, Patton was on screen. He was walking around a hill, calling for Logan. Patton could see the bags under his eyes and the way his shoulders drooped. He looked like he was about to collapse but still continued, trying to find Logan.

“Patton!” Logan tried to reach out to the mirage, being pulled back by the chains still clasped to his wrist.

“Believe me now, sweetheart? He cares about you because to him, you have been kind.”

Logan swallowed, his expression different than before, “Leave him alone. Leave Remus alone. In fact, leave all my friends alone.”

“Sure, but that risks you forever losing contact with your brother.”

“What?” Logan’s voice cracked. “Leave my brother out of this!”

“Unfortunately, I can’t. He's a ghost, so he’s under my territory. He may not know it yet, but I have complete control of him.”

“What did he ever do to you?” Logan let the emotions in his voice take him over. He sounded angry and sad. He sounded like he was feeling for once in his life, “He was a good kid. He had a good life. He had good potential. Why is it that he should have to be under your control when he has been nothing but good his entire life?”

“Why, he has control over you, and you have control over Patton.”

“I didn’t know Patton before Roman’s death!” Logan scoffed.

“Because I made sure of that.” Caleb rolled his eyes. “Everything has been laid out for your life, for your brother’s life since you were born. Because I knew you were the one thing most important to the special one.”

Recognition flashed in Logan’s eyes, as he tried to process the saying. “He’s the special one. Patton has something you want.”

“Yes and I am going to get it, no matter how long it takes or how difficult the task is.”

“He doesn’t deserve this.” Logan shook his head, “You can’t do this to him.”

“Oh? But I already am.” Caleb grinned, turning around and snapping his fingers. The lights went out and Logan coughed, collapsing to the ground. Despite it being all dark, with no idea of where Caleb was anymore, Patton saw the flame that burned within Logan’s eyes. The determination burned in his soul, and he knew that whatever he was up to, he wouldn’t allow anyone else to come in the way of his plans.

Patton blinked, coming out of the vision and looking around to see everyone staring at him.

“You were in that vision a lot longer than we were.” Remus remarked. “Your eyes turned brown.”

“What color of brown?”

“My color of brown.” Logan replied as he pulled Janus to grab onto Remus again as he separated from the group to go write stuff down. “What did you see, Patton?”

“Well…a vision.”

Logan rolled his eyes, “I mean, in specifics.”

“Uh…if you got the vision, shouldn’t you know?” Patton asked, not really wanting to remember the vision. The man, whoever he was, terrified Patton.

“That’s the thing though. While you were still in your vision, we were all discussing. We all had different visions.” Janus began.

“Well…Logan was in a dark room. He's chained to a wall, and he looks like he’s been there for a few days. He doesn’t look like he’s slept, but he has been well fed. He yells out for someone named Caleb to come out. A man in his middle ages walks out and they have a conversation together.”

“Anything important in the conversation?” Logan asked as he was scribbling in his notepad.

“Apparently, to Caleb, your life has been laid out from the very start. So has your brother’s. He can see ghosts because he knew about your brother being a ghost. He can definitely control the afterlife, and he seems to have a lot of powers. He was able to create a mirage, and other things.” Patton shrugged, “Oh, and he mentioned I was the special one?”

“Shit.” Janus let the word slip out of his mouth.

“What?” Logan raised an eyebrow as he finished scribbling it down.

“Nothing.” Janus squeaked, “Let’s talk about the others’ visions first.”

“Right.” Logan sighed, “There’s an earthquake in mine. Everyone is trying to escape…except for me and Patton.”

“Where are you two?”

“Don’t know, but clearly in the middle of the earthquake because someone tries to go back for me, only to be stopped.” Logan muttered.

The other visions consisted of nicer things like the six of them hanging out, but Virgil’s was especially horrifying.

“All of us collapsed on the ground unconscious. The only one awake was my ghost friend. He tried going to each of us to try and get us to wake up, but no matter what, we wouldn’t. I wouldn’t. We looked scratched up. Logan looked the worse off. There’s blood pooling from him. My ghost friend tries so hard to wake me up to try and help him. Then, a scratchy voice mentions that there was no way for us to wake up.” Virgil shuddered, “It belonged to a ghost. A different, evil one.”

Patton blinked, “What kind of a scratchy voice?”

“It sounded like an older man, who sounds like he constantly has flem in his throat. He sounds like he’s always on the verge of coughing in front of my face.”

Patton blinked, “Does he have a deeper voice and an accent when he pronounces his ‘th’s?”

“Yeah.”

“That ghost is Caleb.”

“Caleb has to be the ghost inhabiting you then.” Janus turned to Remus.

Remus made a face, “Who decided it was a good idea to put a Caleb in charge of everything?”

“Don’t ask me.” Patton held his hands up in the air, defensively. “I wasn’t in charge of naming him.”

“Alright, that’s not a problem. Patton, I know you have connections. Find anything you might have on a Caleb that died around his 40s to 50s. Virgil, connect with your ghost friend and see how they’re doing on finding out about a way to contact the ghost.” Logan ordered the two.

Patton blinked. “Sorry what?”

Logan flicked his head, “Go.”

“Now?” Patton was caught off guard.

“Yes, now!” Logan huffed, pushing Patton away, “I’ll see you later. I need to talk to Remus and Janus alone. Go.”

“Alright, you’re so pushy.” Patton chuckled as he walked out of the area, deciding to help Logan out.

-+=~=+-

Patton walked into the detention room, fully expecting to see no one else in the room. Instead, he found Logan sitting at the front of the classroom, reading next to the teacher’s desk where their principal sat.

“Oh, hello, Principal Sanders.” Patton sat down near the front of the classroom.

“It’s come to my attention that you haven’t made up any of your 60 hours.” Logan's mother raised an eyebrow, “Mr. Morris, I’ve also learned you’ve been tormenting my son and that’s what most of those hours have come from. I will now be supervising all detentions until you make up all 60, and this is a warning to-“

“Mom!” Logan yelled, slamming his book shut, “I already told you, he’s the furthest from bullying me. Stop threatening to suspend him!”

His shoulders seemed tense, and everything about his position showed he was hostile.

“Honey, I know that you are friends with him, but I think it’s perfectly unacceptable that-“

“No. You don’t get to say that.” Logan scoffed, standing up, “I thought it was weird that for the first time in forever, you decided to try and do your job as a principal. Patton doesn’t deserve the punishment you give him because I have been endorsing this behavior.”

“What are you talking about-”

“Let me finish.” Logan glared, standing up from his chair, “Maybe if you stopped living in your little bubble and for once looked outside you would see that I am not myself when I’m around you.”

“Well, sure you’re quieter, but that comes with grief.” His mother began.

“No, I’m not just quieter. I don’t feel like myself anymore, Mom. I don’t even think I feel and it didn’t come from grief.” Logan’s voice cracked, “And for once, Patton gave me that ability to feel again. Even if it was annoyance, or some sort of irritation, he let me feel and he let me be myself around him. I could’ve gone away with not giving him a fair amount of detention hours, but the truth is that I enjoy spending time with him, and the only time we can spend time together is through detention hours. It helps the both of us, because I get to feel like myself for one second that I don’t have to keep a wall of perfection around him, and he gets to feel safe in an environment where there’s no yelling. He’s a little troubled, and sometimes he lashes out in a way I don’t enjoy, or sometimes we go head to head because the both of us can’t communicate in a proper way, but that isn’t his fault. It’s yours. It’s Dad’s. It’s his parents’. We are like this because of you four, and he shouldn’t be punished for something that I purposely inflicted on myself.”

Patton was speechless. He didn’t know that Logan had felt that way about him. He didn’t know that while a part of Logan was helping Patton escape from his parents, a part of Patton was helping Logan escape from his.

“Mom, just go.” Logan sighed coldly, turning around and looking up in an attempt to not let the tears fall out, “I can deal with all of Patton’s detention hours. Fix them to where they’re accurate to the number of hours he’s supposed to have. I’ll do detention how it’s supposed to be and I’ll have him write the behavioral statements for an hour before he has to stay silent and do his homework. Just…don’t suspend him or put him on warning.”

“Logan-”

“Go.” Logan adjusted his glasses to the top of the his nose, closing his eyes.

Logan’s mother sighed, walking out, “You better have that fixed by the end of the day.”

Logan didn’t answer, still facing away from everything with his eyes closed until he was certain his mother was out. Then, he turned to close the door and walked back to the desk to pull out a box of chalk. “Alright, Morris, you heard me. You know the statements. Go ahead and fill the entire board.”

He took out a chalk and placed it gently on the table before going back into his book. Patton treaded carefully, knowing that if he tried to ask if Logan was okay, it might end in either Patton getting punched or Logan walking out, never to be seen again.

Instead, Patton grabbed the chalk and started to write the sentences he knew by heart. Logan had made him write the sentences for the first 15 hours that he served detention before he was over it and allowed him to do whatever he wanted, as long as his homework was done.

He was not even a sentence in when he heard Logan sniffling and Patton turned to see Logan trying to wipe his eyes before the tears could fall out. Then, he knew he would take the risk of bodily harm if it meant he could comfort him, and calm his aching heart.

Patton walked up behind him, wrapping his arms around Logan and squeezing him.

“What are you doing this for?”

“I’m sorry that I’m a little annoying all the time, and I’m sorry that I haven’t been the best at keeping my promise of being a little kinder to you.” Patton mumbled, “But my goodness…you just have to tell me that you want to spend time with me. If I knew that I was your escape, I would’ve spent every day after school in detention with you.”

Logan didn’t say anything, but Patton felt something cold hit his hand, and he turned a bit to see Logan’s face streaked with silent tears still falling down his face.

“Jesus, you idiot.” Patton snorted, pulling the boy closer and squeezing him tighter. Logan’s arms wrapped around him as well, and he tried to ignore his pounding heart to continue comforting the boy. “Just tell me next time. I would’ve helped. I’m so sorry.”

Logan choked out a sob, burying his head in his chest as he let it all out. All the regret, grief, and anger built up inside of his for the past four years finally released and for the first time ever, Patton saw a gateway into who Logan really was.

“There, there, let it all out.” Patton mumbled as he rubbed his back.

Patton didn’t care that his shirt was being used for a tissue, nor did he think about the fact that Logan was currently hugging him like his life depended on it. He cared about the fact that Logan had never felt like himself and he wanted to give Logan that experience.

“I’m sorry.” Logan murmured.

“Take all the time you need.”

That sentence was enough to establish the relationship between his and Patton. It was enough for Logan right now. It was enough for him.

-+=~=+-

Patton stared at the post-it hung in his room. Although the rest of his house was a mess, his room was the only thing neat, organized and color coordinated. The only thing out of place was the white paper hung up on his corkboard in the middle with Logan’s name and number on it in his neat handwriting. He had yet to need to use it, but he had stared at the number so much that he had it memorized to heart.

Then again, he always had a good memory.

However, a phone call interrupted his thoughts.

Without looking at the caller ID, he picked it up, “Hello?”

“Patton. It’s Janus.” his voice sounded worried.

Patton took that time to look at the caller ID, knowing for a fact that he had never gotten Janus’s number. The name “Remus Porter” lit up and it clicked in his head. Remus had given Patton his phone number after they were paired up together the last year for a class and although they never used it again for each other, it came in handy.

“What’s wrong?”

“Are you doing anything right now?”

Patton heard a crash in the living room, along with the yelling he had learned to block out. “Yeah, why?”

“That sounds bad. Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” Patton pressed the phone to his shoulder and cheek as he went to grab the shoes he hid in his closet. He learned that he should always have a way to escape his house through his room. He started to put it on, “What do you need?”

“Remus is in the hospital. Just…come here quick.”

“Wait, wouldn’t you need Virgil and Logan though? They know everything related to his illness.”

“It’s not that. I know everything there is to know about Remus’s illness too. The doctors just aren’t listening to me. They don’t understand that Re will die if he gets put on more pain killers. Just please…come quick.”

“On my way.”

Patton rushed over to the hospital, getting there in less than 5 minutes on foot. He was always a fast runner, and he attributed it to the fact that he had longer legs. It came with the advantage of being tall, and also living close to the hospital.

“Hi, sir, what can I help you with?” The nurse asked as Patton came into the hospital all breathy.

“Where’s Remus Porter being held?”

“Sorry, sir, but the family only permitted relatives to see him.”

“Patton! There you are!” Janus’s face melted into relief, “Remus is in the ICU and I need you to see this for yourself.”

Patton stared at the nurse who sighed, allowing him in and he rushed to Janus, “See what?”

Janus just rolled his eyes as the two of them dashed to Remus’s room where Remus was. He seemed weak, especially attached to all the machines. There was no one else in the room, but the room seemed so loud with the heartbeat monitor continuously beeping.

“Re…I brought Patton.” Janus’s voice was gentler than usual.

“Patton.” Remus croaked, holding his hand out. Patton slowly took it.

“Hey buddy. You don’t look so good. You feeling alright?”

“Shut up.” Remus laughed, “Don’t be like everyone else.”

No quip. No dirty saying. Nothing. Remus truly wasn't feeling good.

Patton snorted, “Janus called me over.”

“I caught a fever from school. Since my immune system is weaker because of my cancer, they have to look me over.” Remus coughed.

“That’s not the problem.” Janus murmured, grabbing Remus’s hand as well. He watched as the Chinese symbols soon appeared on both their heads. “The problem is that he doesn’t feel any better when I am in contact with him. He still feels just as weak, if not even more, and look at the symbol above his head.”

He watched as the symbol of death faded in and out of existence. When Patton could see the symbol, it burned bright red, almost like the color of fire. It looked like it was burning Remus’s forehead.

“Woah.”

“Usually, his symbol goes away after some time of physical contact, but that’s not the case now. And usually it’s not that color.”

“It looks bad. What does that color mean?”

“I’m not exactly sure, since the only place I’ve seen it was on Logan, and he’s very unreadable. I’m guessing it doesn’t mean something too good though. Right now, I think that it means that it means you’re closer to your curse.”

“Yikes.” Patton sighed, “How long they keeping you on bed rest?”

“Until I get better and then a day after.”

“And you don’t think you’re going to be good anytime soon?”

“Nope.” Remus laughed, turning his head to sneeze.

“Bless you.” Patton snorted, “So what you’re telling me is that he’s on the verge of death right now?”

“Everytime he eats a new painkiller, his symbol glows brighter.” Janus murmured, “The doctors won’t stop. They just keep putting him on different medications, hoping one will just stick but it won’t and it’s only hurting him.”

“How do you want me to convince them?”

“I don’t know. You’re charismatic though! You’re the class clown, everyone loves you! You’re the fun, loving Pat! There’s got to be something that you can do!” Janus begged, “Please.”

Patton sighed, “Alright, I’ll see what I can do.”

Remus sneezed, and a nurse came through at that moment.

“Ah, have you brought reinforcements?” The nurse raised an eyebrow, “You have to give some reasoning to him. He’s saying we should get him off the painkillers. It’s almost a death wish for someone with cancer.”

“Except Remus’s a special case. His heartbeat’s weaker and faster ever since you started giving him painkillers. Sure, he may be sneezing less, but his blood pressure is higher. I know you’re recording everything related to his health every hour and giving him new medicines, but the thing is that it’s getting harder and harder to measure them, and you’re afraid that you’ll be sued for getting him off, but you’re actually killing him right now. Do all four of us a favor and stop giving him it. Otherwise...I'm sure you wouldn't want to see me disappointed, missy."

The nurse raised an eyebrow looking at the clipboard in their hand. They sighed, and stared at Janus, “Be glad that your friend here has better reasoning than you.”

With that, the nurse took Remus’s blood pressure and wrote down his heartbeat before leaving.

"Fun, loving Pat to the rescue." Patton flashed a smile at Janus.

Janus sighed before admitting, "Thank you. I couldn't have convinced them without you."

"Of course, Janus! Anything for my bestest friends. If that's all, I'll be going out then."

"Wait, Patton?" Remus coughed as he tried to sit up.

"Yes, Remus?"

“Can you keep this a secret from Logan and Virgil?” Remus asked.

“Why?”

“I haven’t been the most truthful about my illness.”

“What do you mean?” Patton was very concerned now.

“The ghost that’s sucking all my power…has been contacting me more recently when no one’s around. He’s getting more powerful. I can feel him fighting back against my powers, against the painkillers, and more. I feel him fighting back against the blockage of everyone, but Janus.”

“You…don’t want to tell Logan or Virgil? Why? They’re helping you!”

“And I’m so grateful for that, but there are things I just can’t explain to them. I'd rather joke around about my illness and say weird and out-of-pocket things instead of facing the truth that I am dying and there's no workaway around it."

“I’m the least knowledgeable about your illness.”

“That’s exactly why. You won’t try to find an explanation or anything. You just accept it, and will try to help me find a solution. The other two are too obsessed with finding out why it’s like that before they find how to help me.”

Patton sighed, “Logan can see through my lies, so I can’t promise…but I’ll try to keep it a secret.”

“Thank you.” Remus seemed relieved.

Janus rubbed Remus’s forehead, “Alright, get some rest. I’m going to talk to Patton outside.”

“Have fun.” Remus murmured.

The pair walked outside, and Patton turned to Janus, expecting him to say something.

“How’d you know all those things about Remus? I didn’t even pay attention.” Janus asked.

“I didn't. I just winged it, and used a bunch of terms I thought Logan would use.” Patton snorted.

“Nice.” Janus smiled, “I’m not going to stop you from telling Virgil or Logan about Re in the hospital. He’s too important for me to lose. I know Virgil and Logan are going for the slower approach, but I know that approach is probably a stronger cure than the one that Remus wants. He wants a quick and easy way out of his suffering, but it’ll be temporary. Logan wants to find out why so he can find a permanent solution. Virgil wants to make sure that nothing like this happens to anyone else again. I get his point of view, but I also get theirs. I want Re to get better now, but I know that it won’t help him in the long run, and even if we expel the ghost, there’s a chance we could end up hurting someone else. It’s your choice to make on the matter.”

Patton hated the fact that it had to be his choice.

“I trust you either way. I believe we’ll make the right decision.” Janus pat Patton’s back, “I promise you that either way, the group will find a way to get over your choice.”

“Thanks.” Patton gave a small smile. “I think I'm going to head out now. Let me know about anything that changes.”

“I will.” Janus smiled weakly. Patton could see a look of terror and worry flash in Janus, and Patton just pulled Janus into a short hug.

When he left the hospital, he opened up the phone app.

Then, he started to type in numbers. One by one, he typed in the phone number he memorized.

Hovering his finger on dial, he took a deep breath, and let it fall onto the button.

He answered right away and Patton caught a breath, waiting for him to speak.

“Hello?” Logan’s voice sounded sleepy, almost as if he was either just waking up or about to fall asleep.

“You sound awake.” Patton joked.

There was shuffling on the other side, and Patton concluded the boy was still in bed. “Shut up, Morris.” he murmured, “Sundays are my recovery days.”

“You picked up, even if you didn’t know my number?”

“Usually, the person on the other end answers first, and then I reply afterwards, based on the voice and what they say. It has to be someone I know for them to not want to say anything after dialing me first.”

“What if it’s a stalker?”

“They’d have to get through my father who has an extensive knowledge of guns, and me who was trained to use a firearm since I was 10.”

“Fair enough. Just to make sure, I haven’t crossed you enough for you to take out a gun yet.”

“Hm…” Logan yawned, “I’ll think about that.”

Patton couldn’t help the smile that came to his face, “Sorry for bothering you, Sanders.”

“Mh, you always do anyway. What can I do for you?”

“Ah, I can always talk to you later. You sound sleepy and I should let you get back to sleeping.”

“No, you’re already here. Just tell me.”

“You sure you’ll be awake to answer it?”

“I will be if you don’t keep stalling.”

“Fair enough.” Patton chuckled, “I wanted to ask about Remus.”

Logan groaned, “You’re going to make me get up to get my notebooks, aren’t you?”

“I am.” Patton admitted as he walked to a nearby park to sit down at.

He heard shuffling for a while before Logan answered, “Alright, I have gotten it, and have cozied back in bed. What do you need about him?”

“His social security number.”

“Be serious.” Logan scoffed. “I will hunt you down if I find out you made me do all of that for nothing.”

“I wanted to ask about how Remus was. Is he getting better?”

Logan was quiet for a second. “I didn’t need my journal for that.”

“Is it obvious?”

“He’s getting worse. I don’t know what’s going on, but I know the ghost is getting stronger, and there is nothing I can do about it. I’ve tried using precognition, but nothing is showing up. I think the rosary is affecting my powers too since my powers expel both negative and positive energy. The rosary sucks up any negative energy, which protects me from the ghost, but…it also hurts my power.”

“Have you tried it in the shower when you can’t have the rosary on?”

“I’m too paranoid to try taking it off. There’s no doubt I’m a target.”

“I’m sorry.” That was all Patton could say.

“Is that all you wanted to say?”

“Uh…I got records for a Caleb Covington. I’m not certain, but I think it’s our guy. He looks like the dude I got in the vision, and he matches the description, but at the end of the day, he could be one of the workers or pawns for the ghost that’s possessing Remus.”

“Specific details?”

“He died almost 120 years ago in this city, in a freak magic show. He was a magician, apparently he was very well known for being charismatic. After he died, mediums would see him all over the place, and he was seen as pretty friendly. Then, people started to notice that he started to be worse off. Then, one day, he completely disappeared. That happened about 10 years after he died. Then, 30 years after that, ghosts started to disappear. Then, they disappeared completely about 15 years ago, and mediums started to move out of the town. Virgil’s probably the only medium in town right now.” Patton cited off all he could remember from the research he did with his friend who had access to records.

“Huh.” Logan mumbled and he heard scribbling noises being picked up by the mic.

“Did you bring a pen into bed with you?”

“Of course I did. The pen was attached to the journal. I’m not stupid.” Logan scoffed, “Right…thank you for telling me that. I’ll keep my eye out for that.”

“Let me know if you need anything else.” Patton replied numbly.

“I will definitely come to you.” Logan mumbled as he shifted.

“I should really let you sleep.” Patton thought it was endearing that Logan still listened to him fully despite still being half asleep, “What time did you go to sleep last night?”

“Ungodly hours.” Logan sighed, “Are you sure you don’t have anything else you want to tell me? I can hear it in your voice that there’s still something.”

Patton thought about it. Logan knew him too well, but he was also respectful. If Logan believed Patton wasn’t ready to tell him or didn’t want to, Logan wouldn’t press it.

Then, Patton remembered the mark that burned above Remus’s head, and he remembered Janus’s pained face, and the trust Janus had in Patton to make the right choice, and he knew that Remus’s safety was worth more than his pride.

“Remus is in the hospital.”

Logan’s steady breathing, picked up on the mic, hitched as he processed what he said, “Is he okay?”

“He definitely has been better.” Patton remarked, “He caught a cold, and I just only managed to convince the nurse to get him off the painkillers that seemed like they were killing him."

“Good. He shouldn’t be on any pain killers. I told him to stop taking the ones he got from his doctors. He should’ve known his rights. He could’ve refused them himself. Why did he have to be so stubborn and get you to have to convince the nurse?”

“I don’t know.”

“Jeez, Virgil told him to be careful around others because it’s flu season. His immune system is already at risk since we told him to stop taking any of the ones he gets from the doctors treating him.”

“You sound like a worried mother.”

He could practically hear Logan rolling his eyes.

“He’s okay, genuinely?”

“Yeah, for now. I just think that we might need to hurry the process of catching this ghost off guard because right now, he has the upperhand. If it is truly Caleb, he is continuing to get more powerful, and he’s not going to stop until he’s gotten what he’s wanted.”

“Right…” Logan trailed off, yawning again.

“You should go to sleep, Sanders. Sorry for keeping you awake.”

“Mhph, it’s fine.” Logan shifted in bed, “I’ll talk to you later though. I have a lot of thoughts about this.”

“Me? What about Virgil?”

“I’ll talk to him about it after I get more details. Until then, I’ll be sleeping again.”

“Alright. Good night, Logan.”

“Good night, Patton.”

With that, the two hung up, leaving Patton to be smiling at the thought of letting Logan be in his contacts now.

-+=~=+-

Patton liked to think he had a good sleep schedule, but that was later refuted by Logan calling him at 3 am, and him immediately picking up.

“You should be asleep” was the first thing Logan said to him over the phone.

“So should you, Lo. Don’t you need your beauty sleep?”

“Just because I’m a hypocrite doesn’t mean you should point it out.” Logan remarked, “Tell me more about how you know that Remus is dying with the painkillers.”

“So you know how he has the mark of death above his head?”

“Uh huh…”

“In the hospital, it was fading in and out, when usually after some time, it just fades. Then, when it was visible, it looked like it was burning into his forehead, and the color was more of a reddish-orange fire color.”

“Yikes. What does that mean? Does Janus know?”

“Well no, because it had never happened until this year.”

“So Remus’s the first time he’s ever seen it?”

“No…he’s seen it on someone else.”

“Who?”

“You.”

Logan fell silent.

“And I’d love to tell you what I know and what he knows about that, but it isn’t something I can answer, because no one can read you. You don’t tell us anything about yourself, and I’m glad you feel safe with us enough to even talk to us, but please, Logan, Remus’s life is at risk and-”

“It’s probably related to my brother. I hold a lot of regret towards stuff I did to my brother, or stuff I said. I guess, I’d rather keep it away from me, and yet Janus always finds a way to make me feel bad again and remember all the promises I kept to my brother.” Logan sighed, “If that’s the case, and if I feel this intense amount of regret that makes the mark like that, then we need to do something about it. Let’s call a meeting.”

“Right now? At 4 in the morning?” Patton asked, staring at the clock.

“Remus is in the hospital right now, currently dying. Do you really want to stall?” Logan pointed out.

“Good point. How are we supposed to get in contact with them?”

“I’ll deal with that. Meet me at the clock tower at school.”

“How long is this going to be? Because you have to remember that we have school tomorrow.”

“Good thing tomorrow’s a school field trip for the five of us.”

“What?”

“Hey, I promised my brother I’d save the living, but I never promised my parents I wouldn’t abuse my powers. Remus is the living who is on the verge of dying, and I’m willing to abuse a few of my powers to authorize an unplanned school field trip that doesn’t use school funds for a club that does not exist.” Logan remarked.

It was the first time Patton ever heard personality in Logan's voice, and he knew that the Logan he used to be was coming back full force. ——————– angsty logan is my fav to write fr <3 (see porch tears for one example that's so real), but logicality will always be my fav ship, even if it's not really shown in how much i make these two be tortured. but remus having development and being in so much pain that he can't even make his jokes is so sadddd :((((. ANGST DOES GET BETTER LATER THO I PROMISE <3

If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging! Reblogging helps me a lot and it's just two clicks of a button (trust me, likes don't do anything to help me). Check out my masterlist for more, feel free to request any writings, and stick around if you want to see the rest of what I have in store for this! :)

[asteroidzzzn]

NEXT PART OF STARGIRL WHEN 😭

soon hopefully!! i dont have a ton of inspiration for a full length chapter like a ton of writing rn,,, and i really need to make it good since its the last chapter. once i have a good outline ill start writing it, i just need a solid idea that hasn't come to me yet 🫠 don't worry i haven't forgotten about it, the last chapter should be out in the next week or 2 weeks! in the meantime ill be updating more than just a dream a lot bc i basically have the whole thing written >.<

[starglitterz]

hello everyone !!!!! after a long (ish) break bc of my illness IM FINALLY BACK !!!!!!! i lowk missed tumblr and highkey missed everyone here :( so it's great 2 be back !

thank u for all ur super sweet asks 💗 i'll reply to them as soon as i can, but my college sem finishes next week so i'm kinda swamped w tests & assignments rn 😭

im also planning on focusing more on serendipity updates!! i think i've missed abt 2 weeks now? so i'd like to catch up on that HAHA & hopefully that'll start w chapter 2 releasing tmrw night !! (keyword: hopefully)

also i'm very very close to a HUGE milestone and i have such a great event idea so u all should totally follow me and tell ur friends to as well 😍 /j

overall ily all i missed starglitterz nation i hope you've all been doing well MWAH !!! ❤️❤️❤️

[hellcheer-munson]

Hey! Hope you're well! Just wanted to ask if you're going to finish your newtina tlou fic at any point? No pressure, obviously take your time and put yourself first but I'm just wondering since I found it after watching the show (never played the game) and love it!

Hi, anon! I'm doing alright, I'm just hot and bothered because we're having a humid heatwave in England (and it probably won't be the only/last one unfortunately), plus exhausted from work - I would love to say that this is the last school I'll work at and that I'm going to change careers within the next few months, but sadly I know that's not the case.

I'm glad that you like my Newtina/TLOU fic! It's been a very long time since I updated it, but I am actually working on the next chapter right now alongside my Newtina/Titanic one, it's just taking a while because I'm too hot to focus and also struggling to overcome writer's block. Hopefully I can post a chapter of it soon because other than the Titanic one, this was the only fic I've been truly passionate about writing in a very long time.

As you can probably guess (and I probably mentioned it in the author's notes at some point), I'm a HUGE fan of the Last of Us games, and originally I had hoped to finish it before the show released because when I started writing it, the show was still in production...that's how long I've been busy with work/illness/life for! I'm really glad that more people will discover the story of TLOU through the show, and I've noticed my fic has had some extra kudos/comments since the show premiered which is unexpected but nice!

The story of the fic is actually already mapped out, not just because of the game and now the show being there but because I've been making certain changes to fit the characters/relationship better - obviously the father-daughter dynamic between Joel and Ellie is a very different one than the romantic one between Newtina, and I want to be as clear as possible about that. Obviously certain plot points/ideas remain the same - the infection, one character being the prospective cure, etc. - but it's overall going to be a different story in many ways than the game/show because of the characters I'm using. But I do have a very detailed plan that I shared on my fan account IG story before I even began writing the fic, because at the time it was just me musing and throwing out ideas, and it was a plan for right up to the end of the story - so the plan is there, there's a skeleton in place for the story, it just needs to be written properly.

Anyway, thank you for the nice message, anon! Hopefully I'll be able to update both of my AUs soon!

[missmorosis]

sick manager :)

-> feat. sugawara and kuroo

part 1 with bokuto, oikawa, and tsukishima here!

genre: fluff!

synopsis: y/n, the manager of her school’s volleyball team, finds herself sick after days of hard  work, yet she still goes to school to support her team~ 

warnings: the reader is sick, and she passes out in kuroo’s scenario :))

pairings: sugawara x reader, kuroo x reader (separate!!)

total word count: 1.5k

a/n: OKAY SO HAHHSLKDFJ RIGHT WHEN I WAS WRITING THIS CHAPTER I GOT SICK W/ A FEVER- I THINK I JINXED MYSELF OMG

i tried to make the scenario KINDA different, but with the same idea hehe

anYWAYS i’m so sorry if this makes like zero sense AHSLDKF- i wrote a lot while i was sick SO ill blame it on fever delusion if it flops 😌

OH AND THIS IS FOR @haikyuuheartsclub ty for reading the first one and asking for a part 2 hehe <33

You getting sick was inevitable.

You knew that you were bound to get sick with all of the work you had been doing and all of the late nights you spent preparing volleyball strategies, planning practice tournaments for your team, or studying until your eyesight blurred.

Being your school's volleyball team manager was not only hard, but it was ridiculously time consuming. Not to mention that you were bombarded with schoolwork, and you had exams coming up. Your stress levels had never been higher, and you were practically living off of caffeine with the amount of sleep you were always lacking.

So when you woke up with a sick feeling and the worst headache, you weren't completely surprised. Annoyed would have been a better word.

You knew that your team was getting ready for an important tournament, so you would have to stay extra long for practice. Groaning as you got ready, you weren't sure you could make it through the day.

You sluggishly pulled on a hoodie and brushed your teeth, taking note of how warm you felt as you washed your face. Grabbing a thermometer, you quickly measured your temperature.

100.4 Fahrenheit. Not too bad... just a low-grade fever. You tried to shrug it off and ignored how disgusting your body felt. You slung a backpack over your shoulder and walked out the door, heading to school.

You waited at the bus stop, shaking your head to try and make the sickness go away. When the bus arrived a while later, you plopped down onto the closest seat and you couldn’t stop your eyes from closing. You were just so... tired...

You drifted off to sleep, the soft sound of the bus driving across the road comforting you.

...

“Uh, Y/N?” Someone was shaking your side, and you immediately lifted your head from the bus window you were leaning on. It seemed like you just closed your eyes a second ago... where were you now?

"Mm?" you hummed sleepily, blinking slowly. You rubbed your eyes as the sunlight filtered through the window, and it made you feel warmer than you already felt.

"Hey, sorry to wake you, but we’re already at school." You looked outside, and he was right; you saw Karasuno in the near distance. 

Your brain processed the fact that Sugawara, a third year from Karasuno’s volleyball team, was sitting next to you. You saw his blurred figure lean next to you, and he brushed some hair out of your face. His fingers grazed against your forehead, but he quickly froze. 

"Y/N- Y/N! Why is your forehead so hot?" He studied your face with concerned eyes, noticing how tired you looked.

"Hm? No, it’s not. It wasn’t that high when I checked... probably the sunlight..." you mumbled, leaning on the back of your bus seat behind you. You put a hand on your forehead, and it confirmed that you were indeed burning up; it was considerably warmer than earlier in the morning. You groaned and got up.

"You don’t look too good, don't you think you should go home-" Sugawara started, but you interrupted him.

"No, you need your manager today, you guys have a game soon," you said, your tone tired but strict. Sugawara eyed you anxiously, but you waved him off. "I'll be fine," you reassured him. Grabbing your backpack, you got up from your seat, heading for the bus’ exit.

Woah.

You knew you were sick, but you didn't think you would be this dizzy. Everything seemed to sway to one side, and you put one arm on the seat of the bus, leaning on it for support. You rested your head on your arm, and you felt Sugawara’s arm wrapping around you for support.

“Alright, now you have no choice. You’re taking a break, whether you like it or not, clearly something’s not okay,” he told you, and you were too lightheaded to argue. You just nodded along and he helped you back into your seat. 

You clutched your head as you tried to make everything go away. Sugawara went to talk to the bus driver in the background, and miraculously, the driver made an exception for you.

“We’re ahead of schedule anyways,” the bus driver reasoned. He turned the bus around, heading back towards your house.

“Okay, now that that’s done, you can sleep if you want to. You could probably use the rest, I can only imagine how tired you are...” Sugawara said softly, and you gave a small nod. You scooted further down into the seats, making enough space for the boy to sit next to you. He gladly obliged, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you drifting off to sleep. Your head subconsciously drifted onto his shoulder, but he didn’t mind.

“Hey, Koushi?” you mumbled, your voice coated with sleepiness.

“Yeah? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing... I just wanted to thank you.” Your eyes remained closed, and Sugawara couldn’t tell if the blush on your face was from your fever... or something else? 

“You need to take breaks, you know. You work really hard, it’s a wonder you haven’t dropped dead yet,” he said, half jokingly. “Thank you.” You smiled, and finally fell asleep.

Kuroo found you in the classrooms; your head was down, and your headache was terrible. You were almost asleep; you were trying your best to stay awake, and you weren't sure how long you could keep it up.

He was walking down the halls, casually glancing into your classroom to see if you were finished, and he softly smiled at the sight of you.

"Tired, Y/N?" Kuroo asked, smirking as he tapped your shoulder.

"Hm?" You lifted your head up, surprised at the unexpected touch. "Oh- Kuroo, shut up," you replied, rolling your eyes as you stretched. He laughed and grabbed your backpack for you, slinging it over his own shoulder.

“Ready for practice?” he asked, looking down at you. You nodded, and the two of you walked to the gym.

Your head was killing you with every step you took, but you had no choice but to ignore it. You looked to the distance, trying to ease your headache. Kuroo’s voice was slowly melting into background noise. 

Suddenly you froze and stopped walking, earning a curious glance from Kuroo. You were forgetting something...

“Wait- where’s my... backpack?” You spotted it on the boy next to you, and you shook your head. “Sorry, forgot that you had it,” you said, with a sheepish laugh.

“Something wrong?” he frowned. “You’re acting distracted... more distracted than usual, anyways.” You shook your head, deciding to keep your sickness to yourself.

“I’m good, just tired,” you assured him. He nodded slowly, and walked into the gym, you following close behind.

Only you, Kuroo, and the coaches were in the gym; you were early. You flashed a quick smile as you waved hello.

"Great, you guys are early. I have a couple strategies to discuss," the coach said, gesturing to a whiteboard in front of him. The two of you nodded, and he began to explain.

"Alright... if we're going to win this next match..." he started, but you couldn't make yourself pay attention. The only thing on your mind was how your head wouldn't stop hurting, everything seemed to echo, and just overall how sick you felt.

"What do you think, Y/N?" Kuroo asked, quirking an eyebrow in your direction. You snapped out of your sleepy state at the sound of your name.

“Wha-” You blinked, looking around at all of the eyes on you. You tried to remember what the others were talking about... oh. Strategies. Right. "I just think we... we need to..." You looked at thr whiteboard, but you couldn't focus. You swayed to one side, blinking hard. The world really seemed like it was tilting to one side... "Woah, sorry-" you tried to say.

"Y/N?" You saw Kuroo reach out towards you as you slowly lowered down into a fetal position, resting your head on your knees. "Hey, Y/N? You okay?" You swallowed.

"Yea- yeah. Just... give me a second," you breathed. You felt Kuroo kneel down next to you, and you were right; someone's arm wrapped around you for support, and you knew it was Kuroo's. You knew you were safe as you lost consciousness, falling further into his arms.

...

You awoke, and the first thought was how bright the gym lights were... they weren't this bright before...

"Oh- Y/N! You're awake," Kuroo said, rushing over to you. He put the back of his hand on your forehead. "You're still burning..." he said with a frown.

"Sorry," you muttered. "I don't know, I've been sick all day and I guess I couldn’t handle it..."

"Why didn't you tell me you weren’t feeling well?" he asked, concern clear in his voice. You smiled softly.

"It wasn't important... besides I have manager duties to take care of," you said with a sigh.

"Not if I can help it." He picked you up in one swift motion bridal-style, smirking as you struggled to get down. "I'm not letting you down; I'm taking you home and getting you some proper medicine for this fever of yours. Health is more important than volleyball." You huffed and flopped into his arms in defeat.

"Fine." You leaned closer into Kuroo's chest, and he smiled, satisfied with your surrender.

"That's my girl." You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help but smile.

A/N: THESE WERE NOT THE BEST- I ADMIT BDHDDJNDJEW

hopefully these weren't too bad though-

haikyuu taglist: (send an ask to get added hehe) @floralkawa <3

MWAHH THANK YOU FOR READING!!

[aomineavenue]

Summary: Six years ago, L/N Y/N wouldn’t exactly say that she loves her life. It had always been problematic but her best friend, Miya Atsumu, since she was eight when she moved to Hyōgo, has always been there for her, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. However, things would always fall apart for her ever since, so she should have expected of such. Running away from her problems seemed like the easiest route to take at the time, so what happens when the past comes barging back into her life demanding answers? Will she be able to confront her demons?

Pairings: Miya Atsumu x f!Reader

Genre: Angst, ANGST I LOVE ANGST, a lil bit of fluff here and there.

Warnings: Language, etc.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters except for the reader and my ideas. I do not claim any images used for content in this fic, everything goes out to their respective creators unless it is mentioned that it is mine.

Status: completed. | series masterlist

↩ at peace | dearest daddy

mia speaks!: 

okay, wow. So it took awhile for us to get here and I apologize for that but we’re finally done with Homesick, wew. It’s been a challenge but I’m so happy and grateful for all the positivity you guys have been sharing with me. Also, thank you so much for your patience. 

It’s been an emotional ride but we’re finally done. There may be a few short stories after this chapter but no promises. Hopefully I get the chance to though, I do want to be able to. But for now, if you guys have any requests for imagines/scenarios with this series, don’t be afraid to send them over!

Also, big thanks to @oii-sugasan​ and @sunshinesero​ for beta-reading this for me! I apologize if this chapter is any way lacking compared to the first nine chapters, it’s been awhile since I wrote anything so I hope this was a great way to end this series. 

I love you guys so much, I’m so glad to be (sorta) back. I hope you guys enjoy this!

Time was a funny and fickle thing. Sometimes there was never enough of it, and other times it stretched out endlessly. It had been seven months since your life had once again made drastic changes. It often surprised you how time flew by so fast.

Seven months since your two precious boys had been introduced to the man that they now call their father. And well, seven months since you had been reunited with the love of your life. Sure, it had ups and downs, it wasn’t bound to be perfect since the two of you were your own person. It was inevitable for such different personalities to clash, it didn’t help when there were two children present, one of them being as handful as their own father.

Atsumu had shown that he was a doting father, despite only being a part of their lives for less than a year, he had put his new family as his top priority, wanting to make up for lost time. He would instantly drop anything and everything, sometimes even volleyball when he could for times when his family needed him. Not that his new family had been a burden since then, his sons and of course you, have been nothing but loving and supportive. Showing up to games to cheer him on and the twins attending his training to either join or just watch their father and new favorite uncles.

It had been a rollercoaster ride since it was officially announced that Atsumu was off the market and that he actually had sons. Some fans were supportive, believing the news and claiming that both the young twins were striking replicas of the volleyball player. And of course, there were fans that were against it, raging how you were nothing more than a money-grabbing harlot and that you had probably lied to Atsumu about the twins being his.

They were quickly shut down, of course, by not just fans but various people close to the volleyball setter who defended you without you even asking for it. You weren’t going to lie, that particular month filled with venomous words thrown your direction stressed you out but it was mostly because of your motherly instincts, wanting to keep your sons away from such unnecessary drama. You and Atsumu had decided to ignore the majority of the vile comments but seeing you so emotionally exhausted had only fueled the already tiny flame in Atsumu. He was quick to announce that he would no longer tolerate any form of slander towards his family and would handle things legally if anyone were to step out of line.

And by the next few weeks, the hate simmered and the stress that had engulfed you and Atsumu in its grip had vanished. All that was left that made you both worry was Atsuhiro’s health.

Fortunately, Atsuhiro’s sickness didn’t grow worse as time passed by since his first transfusion. If anything, the boy was healthier and it was very much evident in his features. The healthy glow returned to his skin, he was smiling more and had shown his usual energetic-self like before he had fallen ill. Atsumu on the other hand, much to Atsuhiro’s dismay, had started becoming such an overprotective father. It took a lot of begging from Atsuhiko for their father to spend the day outside of the protective bubble of your apartment.

It took time and patience from everyone’s side to get this far, and for Atsumu, (and of course, you) he didn’t mind it one bit. He had grown more mature, despite his twin brother’s disagreements, he not only took care of himself more but he had become a role model to his sons.

Not only that, but as his relationship with his sons grew stronger, the love the two of you had for each other only seemed to intensify as well. Sure, the two of you had ups and downs back then in your friendship but it was as if time and distance hadn’t kept the two of you apart. If anything, it was as if it made your bond stronger. Two best friends, reuniting and finally expressing their true desires, it was easy for the two of you to fall into a comfortable routine.

“Where are the boys of the hour? I’ve been wanting to see how good Hiko looks in my jersey!”

Bokuto interrupts your thoughts for a brief second before you return your focus to your duties of cutting up the vegetables in the kitchen. You can’t help but chuckle at the sour expression that graces Atsumu’s expression as he fills a tray of refreshments on one of the island counters. “Don’t remind me, Bo-kun.”

“You’re just jealous that your sons didn’t want to wear your jersey," he teases, a playful grin on his lips as he lifts himself off of the ground by his hands to sit on the counter.

The scowl on Atsumu's face only deepens at the reminder, "Get off the counter, Bo-kun. Don't be rude. Why don't you actually start to help and give out these refreshments to the guests?"

You watch in amusement as the two exchange their usual banter around the kitchen of your home in Hyogo. It was decided a week ago after Atsuhiro's second transfusion was a success, that the twins would celebrate their birthday back at Hyogo instead of having the guests cramp up in your small apartment in Kanagawa.

It was also then decided by your sons what theme they would be having for their birthday. It was traditional for the twins to have their birthdays themed depending on their current interest. Lately, since the two were very fixated on volleyball due to their new favorite uncles and of course, their father, it was decided that they would be having a volleyball themed birthday where the guests were required to wear their favorite player's jersey.

For a minute, your new friend Bokuto had been rather excited upon hearing the idea.

"So show up with our own jerseys? Great!"

And as for Atsumu, he was excited at the prospect of seeing his own sons wearing his jersey. That is, until his sons destroyed such dreams.

"Are the two of you really sure?" you hear Atsumu's voice echoing from the twins' bedroom throughout the walls of the apartment as you stepped inside, shutting the door behind you as you ventured further into the comforts of your home. “Like really? Those are your choices?”

You grew curious as you slipped out of your shoes and let your hair loose from its tight bun, wincing slightly from your tugging. There was a tinge of whininess dripping from Atsumu’s voice that you couldn’t help but wonder what the three of them were talking about. It wasn’t unusual for Atsumu to be around when you had to work on days where the boys came home from school or when they didn’t have school.

At most times, when Atsumu didn't have training, he would be the one taking care of the boys instead of your mother or Osamu. Majority of his free time away from volleyball was spent with his sons, wanting to make up for the time he had lost. And there wasn't a day where the young twins wouldn't ask about their father and if he was going to visit. It was as if they were scared one of them would disappear, wanting to spend the entirety of their lives together.

"Maybe we can go with superheroes this year!" Atsumu's voice grew louder as you reached the door to the room where they occupied. Leaning against the door's frame, your eyes land on the back of Atsumu's head as he's seated on the carpeted floor facing the twins who were playing with their action figures. A small grin curling upon your lips at the sight of Atsumu’s slightly dishevelled bleached hair.

Atsuhiro, who seems to have the ability to sense your presence, looks up from his toys and in an instant, his eyes widen happily. He was about to greet you but you quickly pressed your index finger against your lips to signal the little boy not to announce your presence just yet, wanting to see Atsuhiko and Atsumu's interaction. The smart little boy that he is, nods and returns to his toys.

"But daddy," Atsuhiko protests, his focus still on the action figures in his hands, "We did superheroes last year! I wanna wear Uncle Bo's jersey!"

You fight the urge to burst out into a fit of giggles as soon as you catch a glimpse of Atsumu slumping his shoulders dejectedly. Now you understand as to why he had his moppy voice on. "But don't you want to wear daddy's jersey for your birthday?"

"But daddy," Atsuhiko lets out a sigh, looking up at his father with a look that meant the little boy wasn't up for any arguments on the matter, "Uncle Bo is the best! So I wanna wear his jersey!"

You could have sworn you heard Atsumu whine, suddenly wishing you had decided to film this from the start. "But it will make daddy really happy if you wear his jersey!"

Atsuhiko shakes his head as he continues to play with his action figures, "But I want Uncle Bo and I to match!"

Atsumu sighs in defeat before turning his attention over to Atsuhiro, looking hopeful. "What about you, Hiro? Would you wear daddy's jersey?"

"No, daddy. I wanna wear Kageyama-san's jersey," he nods with a proud smile, "Wanna be just like him! He's so good!"

"But daddy's just as good a setter as Tobio-kun!" Atsumu cries out, throwing his hands up in the air, "betrayed by my own children. 'Samu isn't going to let me live this down."

This time, you let your presence be known by finally releasing a bubble of laughter. Atsuhiko instantly drops his action figures and rushes over with a happy squeal. Atsumu pivots his body, looking up at you with such a pitiful gaze as he juts his lower lips out ot a pout, "I want new children."

Needless to say, Atsumu had been pouty ever since and has been dreading today due to the reason that every single one of his friends had found out about it. He had tried a handful of times to change their minds, unfortunately, the young twins won't budge.

“It’s not my fault your kids like me better than you,” he huffs, folding his arms across his chest, “I am an ordinary ace after all!”

A scowl graces on Atsumu’s features which causes the other occupants in the room to chuckle in amusement. It wasn’t as if Atsumu didn’t like the idea of his sons becoming close to his teammates, but lately, it was getting harder for the setter to share. “Get your own children!”

“Ah, about that...” Bokuto trails off with a nervous chuckle which causes everyone to fall silent and look at him in curiosity, “I actually will be getting my own child soon, I think.”

“You think?” you ask with an arched brow, “You can’t just think you’re having a child, Bokuto-san.”

Atsumu interjects, “And aren’t you in love with that best friend of yours? What happened to never being with anyone else but her?”

He waves his hand in the air dismissively with a frown etched on his lips, “Well, I can’t exactly be with her when she just got married.”

“You are so getting your ear torn off by the management when this news gets out,” Atsumu snickers, which he earns a smack to his shoulder from you. “Ow!”

You narrow your gaze at your boyfriend, completely unamused with his behavior. “Don't be dramatic, I didn't hit you that hard!" Letting out a huff as you wipe your hands on the apron you were wearing, "You aren’t helping Bokuto, ‘Tsumu.”

His lips curl up to a cheeky grin at the sight of your expression. He leans forward to nuzzle his nose against your cheek, your cheeks growing warm from the public display of affection. His heart swells from your reaction to his gesture, murmuring teasingly, “Sorry, darling.”

“Please, don’t make me barf.” Osamu interrupts with his features scrunched up in distaste from the interaction between you and his brother.

Atsumu sticks his tongue out at his brother who returns the gesture with a shake of his head. His arm snakes around your waist to pull you closer to his side as he returns his attention over to his teammate, “Well, is the woman making you marry her?”

“Making you pay for child support?” Osamu quickly adds.

Atsumu quips with a chuckle, “Threatening to expose your sins?”

You interrupt the two with a glare towards them, “Stop ganging up on him!”

Bokuto lets out a laugh as he begins helping your mother set up the desserts onto one of the trays to bring outside to the guests, “Nothing like that, she’s pretty chill and we’ve gotten pretty close lately. So we’re going to co-parent.”

“That’s very mature of you, Bokuto-kun.” your mother compliments him with a smile before patting his back.

He feels his cheeks grow warm from the compliment, his heart swelling with pride. “Thank you.”

“Maybe you’ll end up falling for her anyway,” Osamu teases with a smirk playing on his lips, leaning against one of the kitchen counters.

He shakes his head at the idea as his brows knit together, “Jess and I won’t fall in love.”

“Jess?” Atsumu blinks at the familiar name before his eyes widens at the realization, releasing his grip from your waist, “Jess, that journalist that you showed around town when she first visited Japan?”

Bokuto nods with a smile gracing his features, “Yeah, she’s pretty cool.”

“Maybe you’ll learn to love her in your own way through your child,” you suggest with a shrug of your shoulders as you began untying the apron you were wearing upon realizing what time it was.

Atsumu shakes his head and responds before Bokuto could utter a single word, “No, no. That’s impossible. Bo-kun’s heart belongs to his best friend.”

“Stop teasing him,” you scold your boyfriend with a shake of your head, handing over the apron you successfully took off, “make yourself useful and help out here in the kitchen,"

"Bu—"

Cutting him off with a stern glare as you lift a tray from one of the kitchen counters and handing it over to Bokuto, a small smile gracing your lips, "Don't mind him, Bo. Can you bring these to the backyard and help out if anyone else needs help? I think Reiji needs a hand setting up the bouncy castle,"

Retrieving the tray from your hands, his eyes lighting up from the excitement, "bouncy castle, you say?"

"That's for the kids, Bo-kun." Atsumu scoffs but soon lets his lips form into a pout when he had been ignored, turning his attention over to you once Bokuto slips out of the kitchen, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to check on the boys to see if they're ready for their big entrance," you muse with an amused grin. Of course, you knew what your sons had prepared for the big entrance that they insisted. Atsumu had pestered both you and the young twins since he had heard of their plan but as your sons refused to budge, you had feigned clueless, claiming that your sons had opted it to be a surprise.

Little did Atsumu know that you had helped your sons pull off such an idea.

"I don't get why they have to have a big entrance," he sighs, brows furrowing as he racks through his thoughts on what the surprise could be. It didn't help that he was both curious and excited at what his sons might pull off.

Osamu lets out a snort, rolling his eyes at his twin brother as a smirk curls upon his lips, "What do you mean? They're your kids."

"What does that even mean?" Atsumu scowls as he slips on the apron you had handed over, walking over to where your mother was situated to take over what you were doing.

You shake your head at the two bickering older twins and shoot a look of sympathy towards your mother that was going to be left with them in the kitchen before she waves you off. Your heart was swelling from happiness at how natural everything felt, despite the silly banter thrown around. It was home.

As you step into your childhood living room, you're hit with a nostalgic wave from the memories surrounding the whole area. Though it may be a mixture of good and bad memories, since you had come to terms that you were no longer running away from your past, you only feel comfort. You made your way through your childhood home over to the bedroom that had been renovated to the liking of your twin boys.

The mere thought of your boys growing to love the place where you had grown up yourself was enough to bring a smile to your face. You press your knuckles against the wooden door to signal your presence by knocking on it repeatedly, “Are you two ready?” you ask, your voice probably muffled on the other side. Your fingers wrap around the handle of the door and as you were about to twist and push it open, the door instantly snaps back shut with a loud thud. “Can’t-”

“No, mommy!” Atsuhiko screeched causing you to blink from both the surprised force and tone. Pressing your palms and ear against the door to hear what the commotion was all about, you frown upon hearing only their shuffling feet, “What are you two doing? Guests have arrived and your party will be starting soon,”

“We’re almost ready, mommy!” Atsuhiro assures you from the other side.

A chuckle escapes your lips at their antics as you decide to not interfere any further, “Alright you two, just be sure to be out in a few. You don’t want your daddy to come fetch you. It’ll ruin the surprise.”

“Okay mommy!” you heard Atsuhiko yell out, their excited muffled voices purely obvious from the other side that you couldn’t help but smile.

On the other hand, back in the kitchen, the father of your twins was having his own little dilemma back in the kitchen. It wasn’t as if he was uncomfortable being around your mother, but it was more like he felt he was still lacking.

Despite him knowing that your mother and you hadn’t had the greatest relationship when your father passed away, he still wanted to be someone your mother would approve of. He didn’t know whether your mother knew the whole story of the relationship between the two of you but being away from you and your sons during most of their childhood was enough to make him worry. The mere idea of his sons looking up to him sent his heart soaring, but of course, he also wanted your mother to feel secure enough for him to be together with you and the twins.

“I’ll bring out these sliced up fruits outside,” Osamu cuts the clear tension surrounding the kitchen. Atsumu resists the urge to glare at his twin for leaving him behind with your mother, knowing full well that his brother knows his current insecurities. A small smirk graces Osamu’s features but not the obvious one that would make your mother notice.

Atsumu watches his twin slip out of the kitchen with a tray full of food for the guests before flickering his gaze over to your mother situated at the other side of the room, making final touches to the cupcakes. “Is there anything else that I can do?”

Without looking up, a smile etches on your mother’s face. “No, it’s fine. We’re just about done with everything.”

“It looks good,” he states with a nod of his head, not really knowing what to say.

Placing the piping bag to the side, your mother lifts her head up to look towards the direction of Atsumu and wipes her hands on the apron she’s currently wearing, “You know you can always start calling me mom.”

The mere sentence made Atsumu want to leap in excitement, but at the same time he was nervous, a sudden fear of messing things up engulfing him. “I don’t want to overste-”

“Oh please,” your mother waves her hand in the air with a light chuckle, “I’ve known you since you were eight. We’re practically family. So you might as well call me mom.”

Atsumu couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth tug up to a wide smile, “Alright, mom.”

“I’m really happy that the two of you decided to work things out,” your mother spoke with a smile as she delicately places the cupcakes on the cupcake stand.”

His feet shuffled across the room to help your mother stack the cupcakes onto the stand, “We had to for the kids anyway.”

Your mother hums in thought for a second before responding, “I think the kids were just the push the two of you needed. If anything, I’ve always thought the two of you would always end up together since the two of you always leaned on each other for anything.”

He nods his head slowly, leaning against the counter as he feels his heart swell with happiness. “I guess you’re right, mom. I did lean on her majority of the time when we were growing up. I guess I still am now. I just wish I could make her happy.”

“Don’t worry, you do. Before she left Hyogo, I know for a fact that she was miserable in this house after her dad had passed. You were the only one giving her a reason to move forward,” your mother spoke, sadness dripping from her voice.

A sigh escapes Atsumu’s lips as his features scrunch up to something that resembles pain. “I was also the reason why she left. I may be even the biggest reason why she left.”

Your mother extends an arm out and places a hand on Atsumu’s arm, trying her best to give assurance and comfort, “You weren’t the only reason behind that. I don’t know if she’s told you, but I had neglected her. I’m not proud of it and apologies are probably never enough for forgiveness. I was barely a mother when my husband had passed. I was almost an empty shell and instead of being a moth-”

“Mom,” Atsumu cuts her off and grabs hold of her hand in his own, “Don’t blame yourself. She loves you very much. It’s all in the past. We’ll be able to move forward, we already are.”

The two were interrupted with Osamu’s arrival, knocking by the kitchen’s door frame to announce his return. A smile etched on his lips at the scene before him, “Hey, Y/N wants everyone in the living room. Apparently the boys are ready to make their big entrance.”

Your mother excuses herself as soon as she removes the apron tied around her, excitement clearly evident in her features. Atsumu knew it well, despite the relationship that you had been slowly rebuilding with your mother, she was just as excited as him to have the twins into her life. She has equally doted on, if not more, on the twins ever since and well, Atsumu wouldn’t have it any other way.

Atsumu knew for a fact that you adored the time you’ve been sharing with your mother. As long as you were happy, nothing else mattered.

Osamu gives him a pat on the back, arching a brow in curiosity as they make their way out of the kitchen, “Everything alright?”

Atsumu gives him a nod, giving him the largest grin that he could muster. “Yeah, definitely.”

“You look disgusting,” Osamu jokes, pretending to shudder which causes Atsumu to give him a shove as they step into the living room where most of the guests have already gathered.

“Hey ‘tsumu!” Bokuto calls out from next to you as soon as Atsumu comes into view. “Hurry up! I’m excited to see Hiko in my jersey!”

Atsumu rolls his eyes as he approaches, grumbling to himself. As soon as he reaches your side, he places a quick kiss to your temple before snaking an arm around your waist to pull you closer. “Yeah, yeah. You have to stop rubbing it in. We get it.”

You couldn’t help but let a laugh escape your lips as you lean yourself into Atsumu’s warmth, “Oh come on now you two, focus on the big entrance will you?”

Bokuto just snickers from the side while Atsumu sends him a glare. If you were to describe the two of them, they were practically acting like petty children but you know those two will eventually switch attitudes as soon as your twins step out to make their entrance.

You flicker your gaze over to Osamu who was situated a few steps ahead from your little group, trying his best to act natural with his phone up. The two of you had discussed prior to the party that he would be the one to film the whole thing going on. Your little boys had practically begged their uncle to film their big entrance but mostly, what you hoped Osamu to capture was Atsumu’s reaction.

A part of you expects that he would be a grinning mess at the sight of his kids but also, you’re also hoping he’d be speechless from all the teasing his kids put him through of having to wear someone else’s jersey.

“What’s taking them so long?” Atsumu asks, tilting his head slightly hoping to meet your eyes as his fingers play with the hem of your shirt.

As you were about to answer him, the familiar voices of your two boys echo throughout the room from the top of the stairs. You didn’t even have to look to know about their surprise since you know very well of what they had planned. Well, obviously, you had helped them out with picking up the jerseys that they were going to wear.

However, you had wanted to capture Atsumu’s reaction to your boys with your own two eyes instead of just watching it from a video. And honestly speaking, you didn’t think you’d fall in love with this man any more than you already do but here you are.

Just the mere sight of his features scrunching up to a look of awe was enough for your heart to swell. It looked as if he was close to tears as watches the twins descend the stairs with the prodest smiles they could muster.

You pry yourself away from his side as soon as the twins approach Atsumu, knowing full well what was going to happen as they had practiced what they were going to say. Flickering your gaze over to Atsuhiko and Atsuhiro, seeing them in Atsumu’s high school volleyball jersey made your own eyes water despite the fact that you were the ones who had gotten them the uniform a week ago.

“Wh-What are you guys wearing?” Atsumu almost chokes out his words, “What happened to the jerseys that we bought that you said you were going to wear?”

Atsuhiko throws his arms out in the air, smiling widely. “We changed daddy!”

“We wanna wear your jersey daddy,” Atushiro nods his head enthusiastically, lifting his hand up to grip onto Atsumu’s shirt.

Atsuhiko wraps his arms around Atsumu’s waist, “‘cause you’re our favorite volleyball player daddy!”

The scene itself was enough for everyone to watch in awe, a few of the guests that were invited had their own phones up to capture the moment with smiles on their faces, the others were almost practically in tears themselves, and well there was also Bokuto by the side with his pouty self at the realization that neither of his nephews were wearing his jersey like he thought they would. Atsumu on the other hand, had eventually dropped down to his knees and wrapped his arms around his two boys, burying his face in between them as he let out his own tears stream down his face from the overwhelming joy that coursed through him.

Yes, this is your family.

This is your home.

You stare out the window from the kitchen of your childhood home, a smile on your face at the beautiful afternoon of your backyard full with people you adore and have missed so much. 

The party was still in full swing despite the sun about to set, the laughter from the guests and a few children present rang in the air. Happiness had engulfed your heart and honestly, you had trouble believing it yourself but here you were. 

You wouldn’t trade this for anything. 

An arm snakes around your waist from behind and you would have been startled if you hadn’t felt Atsumu’s presence a minute ago. Despite not having seen each other in years, everything about him was still familiar. Sure, there were a few things about him that you didn’t know but that didn’t mean that he still wasn’t your Atsumu that you’ve grown to love. 

“Thank you,” he whispers as he nuzzles his nose into your hair, a smile playing on his lips. 

You place your hands atop of his and lean yourself back into his warmth, your brows furrowing in confusion. “What are you thanking me for?” 

“For everything,” he lets out a sigh, causing a shiver to run down your spine from the heat radiating from his breath close to your ear, “For giving me two amazing boys and for existing yourself.” 

Pivoting your body around so that you were facing Atsumu, your hands settling on his chest as you look up at him with your lips curling up to an assuring smile, “Thank you.” 

“And what for?” Atsumu questions, matching your own smile with his own as his hands cup your face. He lowers his head slowly, nudging your nose with his own as the pads of his thumbs brush delicately against your skin. 

Heat spreads across your cheeks at his gestures, feeling shy yourself but despite that, the majority of what you felt was only comfort in being in his arms. “For loving me as much as I love you.” 

He hums in response, placing a quick kiss to your lips. “No, I probably do love you more. More than you can imagine.” 

Before you could respond, he places his lips back firmly on yours and your eyelids flutter shut as if on instinct. The hands of yours that were resting on his chest eventually found their way around his torso to pull him close. Tilting your head to the side, the kiss itself deepens as he runs his fingers through your hair. 

It just felt so natural being with him.

Before the kiss could grow more heated however, a loud yell from outside had interrupted the both of you causing you to pull away much to both of your dismay. Your heads turn towards the direction of the commotion, the bouncy castle coming into view.

Or rather, the depleting bouncy castle with Bokuto and Hinata coming out hastily in laughter. 

You shake your head at the scene, a bubble of laughter leaving your lips before turning your head back over to look at the man before you. Just when you had decided to pull back and return to your duties of being a mother, he wraps his arms back around your waist to pull you back against him. Another laugh escapes your lips as you playfully slap his chest, “What now? We have a party going on, we have to entertain our gue-” 

“Move in with me,” he interrupts, his features showing nothing but seriousness. 

You meet his sincere gaze with your own and your heart makes a leap out of joy. There was only one answer you could possibly give. 

“Yes.”

[technowoah]

THESEUS - a dsmp story ( DreamSMP x Queen!Reader)

CHAPTER FOUR : LOOK ‘EM IN THE EYE AIM NO HIGHER, SUMMON ALL THE COURAGE YOU REQUIRE THEN COUNT!

Chapter Summary: Wilbur makes a proposition, Tommy finally gets his fight, warning shots are fired and the bomb that was planted finally went off.

pairing: c!wilbur x queen!reader

an// tbh im not that happy with this one, I hope yall like it! but hopefully Ill like chapter 6 lol

⚠︎ swearing, dsmp spoliers(?), angst, fighting, minor blood mention, not proofread. Y/N/N = your nickname

word count: 5.1k

THESEUS MASTERLIST 

"Are you sure you want to do this because Tommy is a good fighter!"

"He's also good at being annoying, so you'll die either way."

"SHUT UP YOU TWO!" 

Currently Tommy and You were by a small lake in L'Manburg facing each other with swords and guns. Fundy and Tubbo were belittling Tommy on the sidelines. Tubbo was trying to convince the both of them not to do this so they wouldn't get hurt badly before the actual war begins. Wilbur was standing in between the two and Eret nervously standing off to the side with Tubbo and Fundy.

When You arrived you explained to the three people who were there, Tubbo, Fundy, and Wilbur, that Tommy and you were going to fight that day. Tubbo and Fundy were not for that idea at all, but Wilbur approved it. After a while of thinking and conversation of course he agreed. 

Eret and Tommy arrived at L'Manburg as well and apparently Tommy already told Eret that he was fighting his wife.

"You know what Eret? I'm gonna fight your wife today! Yeah it'll be a good fight, don't worry I wont hurt her that badly."

Of course Eret did not want this duel to happen and tried to convince Wilbur to not let the two do this to one another. He was concerned about the task and hand yes, but You getting hurt or even worse, killed was not a thing he wanted not needed. Tommy was a loose cannon, he worked on impulse. You were basically fighting a bull while wearing all red.

Wilbur had pulled You aside for the second time this week and started to have a conversation with you again. It was a needed conversation so when Wilbur grabbed her arm.and pulled her away you didn't hesitate this time. As the two talked in the distance you heard Fundy yelling at Tommy about the dangers of fighting You at a time like this. Your mind was all over the place at this point.

"You know how this works?" Wilbur looked at You and Tommy.

"Yes!"

"Yes I do"

You knew what was going to happen. They both had 6 bullets in their gun, if they use all of their bullets they can use their swords instead. You were in your head at this moment. Wilbur was explaining how this duel would work to Tubbo, while You contemplated whether to waste youshot by shooting in the sky or aiming at Tommy's foot. you didn't want to hurt him at all, they had a war coming soon so hurting Tommy would not help L'Manburg. Then again, when was helping L'Manburg a part of your mission?

You snapped out of your mind and saw Tommy glaring daggers at her. He looked harmless.

"I am going to beat you." Tommy said in a voice that can be only compared to a robot.

"You wish!" You scoffed and smiled, smiled which made Tommy scoff and look away.

Wilbur spoke over the two, "ALRIGHT! You two will be back to back facing away from each other, then take ten paces. When I say "fire" you two will fire and shoot and fight until one is damaged and cannot battle anymore or until I call a draw. Understand?"

"Yes Wilbur!" Tommy exclaimed.

"Of course." You calmly said.

"Alright" Wilbur agreed and motioned for the two to turn away from each other. 

They had both touched backs and You had taken a huge deep breath. 

The dilemma in your head was still spinning. Whether to shoot him or to shoot into the air. you would be a coward wouldn't you?

"You scared?" Tommy taunted you.

"No. Just getting ready to beat your ass."

"HA! That's not gonna happen. You're all talk." 

"We'll see about that." Wilbur spoke, inserting himself into their conversation.

Wilbur had stepped back towards the group of men who sat and were watching the whole duel. There was tension in the air, they all could feel it. They all thought this was a bad idea, You thought this was a bad idea. What if this tore the whole plan apart will they ever get to-

"READY? ONE!"

They both took a step.

Aim to the sky or aim towards Tommy?

"TWO!"

Where would you aim?

"THREE!"

What would happen if Tommy ended up dead?

"FOUR!"

Would Dream be happy?

"FIVE!"

If you aim towards the sky. Tommy might shoot. you would be an open target.

"SIX!"

It would be over right? If you aim at the sky?

"SEVEN!"

Tommy.

"EIGHT!"

Up in the air.

"NINE!"

How can this end?

The sky? Tommy? Where does the bullet go?

Where do you go?

"NUMBER TEN PACES, FIRE!"

*bang!*

Tommy's eyes widened and You stood my ground.

"She shot her pistol towards the sky?!" Tubbo shouted.

Wilbur stood there with a smirk and Eret let out a sigh of relief and immediately relaxed. Tommy didn't shoot his gun at all; he looked like a deer caught in the headlights. This was the right way.

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

"I want you to shoot into the sky." Wilbur had taken you to an uninhabited part of the wall to talk.

"Why?"

Wilbur had sighed and looked over to where Tommy was gloating to Eret about dueling his wife.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Tommy is rather impulsive. He does things without thinking or with any concern for consequence. He says things without thinking too, as you've seen firsthand."

You nodded and laughed before Wilbur kept talking.

"I want him to hesitate. I want him to think for once. I know he wants to fight right now, he's riled up because of the battle. I expect him to shoot, but I hope that he won't. He won't." Wilbur seemed to be convincing himself this was a good idea.

"That's reassuring." You replied sarcastically.  

Wilbur rolled his eyes, "I believe he won't kill you nor harm you. At least that's the plan. I care for him. He's a good fighter and he should be able to see his opponent before going all ape shit." 

"I get it. I want to do this, but you said he works on impulse. What if he shoots?" You continued to worry.

"I'm here. And uh- Fundy is great at healing. We have healing potions in the van as well. You will not die on my watch. We need you for the war."

You nodded and continued to stare into Wilbur's brown eyes waiting for another comment from his mouth.

"Do this for me please? For us?"

You opened your mouth to speak, but Wilbur sighed before continuing his statement, 

"You don't have to do this. I should've said that first. I understand that death is scary, believe me I don't want to die either. So I can figure out another way to get to Tommy if you are uncomfortable with this."

This time it wasn't a forced situation. He was literally giving you a huge way out, an open path, but you already agreed to fight before. It wasn't like you were put into this without paths to take. you had options. Now that potions were involved and there are spectators that can act as doctors eased your nerves just slightly. you can do this.

"Or were you planning on shooting Tommy anyways?" 

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

You looked towards Wilbur and smiled warmly at him and he returned your same smile.

"WHAT THE FUCK?! YOU MADE ME LOOK LIKE THE BAD GUY! YOU-"

 "I didn't even call it a draw yet Tommy. You can still fight-" 

"It's clear that my opponent doesn't want this. If I did, I would be more of a bad guy than I already am now." Tommy dropped his gun to the green grass underneath his feet. 

You followed suit, dropping your gun onto the grass below you. You walked towards Tommy trying to find the right words at this moment. He had his head hung low looking at the gun that laid in the lush grass in front of him. You had walked towards him and put a hand on his shoulder and he began to tense up at the friendly gesture.

"Tommy, you're not a bad guy. You did the right thing at that moment. You're neutral really, if you would've shot me then yeah you would be considered "the bad guy". But in reality, there is no such thing as good or bad, there are just people with different morals." You whispered that last part and Tommy seemed to reluctantly understand, still sticking to his main idea of him being a bad guy. 

He was really stubborn, which made it harder for you to make him feel better.

"This is what I wanted Tommy! I wanted you to hesitate before you shot her." Wilbur tried to pick his spirits up by revealing his plan.

"THEN WHAT IF I SHOT HER?!" 

"you would've been fine. Plus you weren't going to brutally damage or kill Y/N right?"

Tommy stuttered a little bit before speaking, explaining himself.

"No I wasn't! My goal was at least to scare her, or graze you with my bullet." Tommy rushed.

"What if you slipped up and hit Y/N instead?" Tubbo came into the conversation leading Fundy and Eret with him.

"Then I would feel incredibly horrible that I hurt an ally." Tommy said while hanging his head. "I understand, Wilbur, I understand what today's duel was for." Tommy continued.

"To be honest, this was a last minute decision! I talked to Y/N before and we both decided it was a good idea for you. Especially when a war is coming up."

"Mhm. I am okay now. I've learned, and I just hope that I can transfer this into the war." Tommy seemed relieved, but also not wanting to learn his lesson. It was bad to assume, but it sounded like he wanted to get this lecture over with.

Wilbur humed while turning away satisfied with what happened today. He walked towards the HTO van with Fundy following suit leaving Tommy and you standing next to each other still recovering from what just happened. Eret and Tubbo were standing a few feet away from them making small glances to the two making sure they are okay.

"I still hate you." Tommy grumbled.

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

The five citizens were sitting in the meeting room making potions with the brewing machines or doing their own thing at the moment. Wilbur didn't have anything planned for today except for making many potions for battle. You were helping with potions as well. you were more skilled at potion making than battle. you can hold yourself down and maybe kill someone, but you don't recommend for herself to do that.

"Wow Y/N/N you're making potions so much faster than I am. Teach me your secrets!" Tubbo exclaimed.

"What did you call me?" You asked The boy softly.

"What do you mean? I called you Y/N/N." Tubbo said, confused.

Has Dream ever called you Y/N/N before because it seems like you've never been called that before. Tubbo was still looking quizzically at you waiting for an answer.

"I don't think I've been called Y/N/N before." You answered.

"Y/N might be uncomfortable with that." Wilbur joined into their conversation.

"Oh! I'm sorry! If that made you-"

"I'm okay! You can call me Y/N/N'' You said while waving your hands to dismiss the situation.

"Good! I thought I was being a creep or something." Tubbo laughed.

"Y/N/N HELP ME OUT WITH THESE POTIONS WILL YA?" Tommy shouted from across the room.

"Okay you don't get to call me Y/N/N." 

Tommy huffed, "If my best friend can call you Y/N/N I will too!"

"Okay children settle down." Eret said while looking up from the book he was writing.

There was another pause until Fundy had spoken.

"Today seemed like a good day huh? Even though it isn't over so far, so good eh?" Fundy tried making conversation after writing whatever enchantments in his book.

"Yes it was so far! Very surprising today." Tubbo agreed with Fundy.

"Tommy and You gave me a heart attack today. I wouldn't consider this a good day so far." Eret exhaled jokingly. He seemed in good spirits today.

"I'm sorry I gave my husband a heart attack." You taunted.

"But seriously that scared me. Thank goodness nothing happened to the both of you. I wouldn't know what I would do." Eret continued.

"You would live." You said bluntly, staring at him. 

Eret nodded at you, sending a small smile your way.

"You would've been a good fighter. Have you fought before?" Fundy inquired.

"I have fought before! I've been trained as well, I'm more into the sneaky side of things, and making potions like I am now." You cheerfully explained.

"Sneaky things?" Wilbur asked.

Your eyes widened slightly before maintaining your composure. you forgot that Wilbur was still on youtail. He thinks that You is still suspicious, so of course when you said that he would jump on the opportunity to interrogate her.

"You could be a spy for us! Maybe spy on Dream and George!" Tubbo exclaimed.

Oh the irony.

Wilbur hummed, "Maybe, that would be interesting. We could get information and they wouldn't turn her down."

"It would be too late anyways if they've seen you here so it would be a major red flag if you showed up there trying to join their team." Eret spoke up, still concentrating on writing enchantments with Fundy.

Thank God that Eret was here, You would be stumbling for the right words and then eventually blowing their cover. you had this happen too many times. They are almost to the end you have to pull back.

"True. You're right!" Wilbur agreed. "Plus we've been more productive since you two came back."

Eret and you both nodded in agreement and went back to doing their tasks.

Tubbo and You were standing together on one side of the room making potions and talking to one another until Tubbo made a quiet gasp. 

You looked at him and followed his line of gaze until you saw them again. It was Sapnap and Dream on the top of the new, enlarged L'Manburg walls. Dream pulled back his hand and whipped something toward the van. It looked metal and shiny as it bounced harshly in the grass. 

Sapnap then pulled out a bow and arrow and Dream had set it on fire. Sapnap launched the arrow into the walls and it landed by the machine that Dream had thrown. The grass around the arrow caught on fire as well, not making a huge fire but enough to scare the two.

"WILBUR! You have a gift!" Tubbo said as he rushed out of the van and You watched carefully through the window so the two wouldn't do anything to the boy.

"Where did he go?!" Wilbur yelled.

"He went outside to grab the metal thing Dream and Sapnap threw." You said keeping an eye on Tubbo as he came back into the van.

Wilbur rushed towards the window where Aryia was stationed and looked towards the top of the wall where Dream and Sapnap were. Dream took one last final glance at the two in the window then turned away to jump down the wall with Sapnap following suit.

"Guys you might want to take a look at this." Tubbo said while placing the metal thing, which was an old answering machine, on the table.

Wilbur sighed, clearly exhausted with everything that had been going on. He sat down on the edge of the table. Tubbo pressed play on the machine and the recording started.

"Tommy, and Wilbur, and the rest of L'Man-child-burg. We are at war. There is no mercy. We have burned down Tubbo's house, we have planted TNT cannons around your land, we have cobblestone walled the outside, we have shot one warning shot inside your walls. WE HAVE NO MERCY, NO MERCY FOR YOU! We will burn down your houses! We will kill everything inside your walls and we will take back the land that is rightfully ours. If you do not surrender I WANT TO SEE WHITE FLAGS! WHITE FLAGS OUTSIDE YOUR BASE BY TOMORROW AT DAWN, OR YOU ARE DEAD!"

*beep~* 

There was a long beep until Tubbo shut off the recorded message. Everyone was silent looking at each other for the next move. Everyone either had a face of anger or one of concern. Eventually everyone turned to Wilbur who had his head down, his hair slightly covering his eyes in a thinking pose. We were waiting for a response from the leader, but it didn't seem like anyone had a response to this situation.

"Hey lets just-"

"Grab me a book and a pen" Wilbur spoke.

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

It's been about an hour since we last received the message. The sun has gone down and they are all still sitting around the meeting table. 

"What do we get? What's the report?" Wilbur asked.

Tommy started, "Okay so here's the situation, the ‘Dream boys' they're on the roof, they've already killed me and Tubbo once, they feel like they got their power. Their egos are up-" 

"They've taken it all." Tubbo added.

"I don't know man, what do you think we've got to do now? Ultimately you're the leader here." Tommy asked the older man.

Wilbur paused before speaking, "I think, the element of surprise is needed. We can't go in just guns blazing."

"My son, how are you doing?" Wilbur asked Fundy.

Fundy stuttered before speaking, "I could've been better."

Wilbur smiled then opened the book he had been writing in for the past hour.

"Before we go into battle though-

"WORDS OVER WEAPONS MY FRIEND!" Tommy interrupted Wilbur

"My gents and m'lady, may I read you the Declaration of Independence?" 

Wilbur had started to read through the Declaration complementing the writers who wrote lines in the book. He began reading the main parts of the book.

"When in the course of human events it becomes necessary for-"

"Wilbur" Tommy interrupted Wilbur again

"Yes what, what?" Wilbur asked annoyed

"They're surrounding us, Wilbur." 

Tommy stood up looking out of the window at the many fiery arrows making their way towards the van and making the grass around the van catch on small fires.

From inside the van it looked like rain from hell. All the fears you once had came flooding back into your mind. you put herself right in front of the greatest fighters, and assassins in the kingdom and you might not make it out alive. 

Wilbur started to head out of the door trying to face his opponents. They all were putting themselves out there exiting the van as fast as they could like a huge target. Speaking of target, an arrow shot by Sapnap landed too close for comfort next  to Wilbur. He seemed un phased at this.  

"They're not the best shot." Wilbur turned his back on the archers and stood in the doorway to the group inside.

Wilbur began to yell at the archers, "Gentlemen how are you!?" 

"Good!" Dream replied bluntly.

Surprisingly they could hear both of each other. 

"Do you like the view of our nation!?" Wilbur asked as he smirked.

"Oh God!" Tubbo exclaimed, worried because of the taunting Wilbur was doing.

"We might be a little out gunned here gentlemen." Eret said softly to the others while placing a hand on your shoulder in a comforting way.

"I thought this was a trailer park!" Dream shouted back. 

"Very funny, listen. It seems like you've gained the upper hand in people! We will meet you in the field, but on our own terms!" Wilbur concluded.

"YEAH!" Tommy shouted at the archers hyping Wilbur up.

The rest laughed at Tommy's antics trying to keep it together.

"Please stop making things worse!" Tubbo laughed.

Another arrow was shot at Wilbur's feet. He was clearly stunned by this, turning to the rest of the L'Manburgians he spoke to them.

"We armor up gents." Wilbur said, walking away.

Just as he walked away Tommy followed Wilbur outside of the van and then an arrow was shot into Tommy's bicep by George. Tommy yelled in anger and in pain, and the rest followed suit yelling in shock. Tommy clutched the arm that the arrow had found its way into, he tried to keep it together as he fell to his knees. You rushed to Tommy's side trying to take the arrow out carefully and heal him. He kept on shielding his arm away from you and kept babbling incoherent nonsense about “leaving him alone” too.

"It's okay! I'm fine! I'm fine! Don't worry!" Tommy kept shouting.

"You're not fine Tommy, let me help!" You yelled and he finally succumbed to you.

You slowly pulled out the arrow and used bandages that Eret had rushed to give you to wrap around his arm carefully. Throughout this whole process Tommy had a face of discomfort and pain until you had successfully bandaged his upper arm so no blood would seep through. Later on you would have to tend to his wounds more delicately.

"Just stay inside!" Fundy yelled in a hurried tone and was angry at the fact someone had already gotten hurt.

This would've been the outcome of the duel if you hadn't followed Wilbur's orders. Either way he would've been injured. Of course they would go for Tommy. Wilbur's right hand man. It was bound to happen. 

You and the rest of the men were clad in netherite or diamond armor and they surrounded Wilbur waiting for another order.

"Tommy I'm putting you in charge of this army." Wilbur said.

Your eyes widened. Didn't Wilbur just say he acted on impulse. This was a bad idea. you were going to die at the hands of the people who gave this opportunity to you.

Wilbur continued, "No matter what happens during this war, no matter who wins and who loses. Just remember that we're on the right side of history."

You have heard that before. What side of history was you on? They have rubbed off on you of course, but with different morals coming from both sides, whose morals do you fit with? If you die, will you be painted in the wrong manner? Are you on the right side as you stand with Eret and Fundy in L'Manburg? Is there even a right side?

"Up the walls we go!" Tommy exclaimed as the group climbed the ladder over the walls.

Your heart was pounding as Tommy led the way towards their next destination. This was going to be very interesting.

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

Tommy led us to the destination where the other warriors were on top of a small tower looking down on the L'Manburgians.

"God- whatever we do, don't go up the tower." Tubbo exhaled. 

"We have to get them down to our level. We have to get them to come down on their own accord." Wilbur commanded.

"Those bastards." Tommy said as an arrow made of fire was shot precisely onto the ground.

The floor began to rumble as the ground cracked and smoke began to rise beneath you revealing the red, fiery TNT that blew up from beneath them breaking the very ground and dirt they stood on making everyone lose their balance. Everyone started screaming, scrambling to get away from the constant chain of TNT slipping and falling on the debris, and the crevices that formed. You had started to run faster,and faster, sometimes you fell to your knees because of the ground shaking and breaking underneath you. You couldn’t look back but you heard screaming and you could only hope and pray no one fell into the big canyon the TNT made behind you. Your mind was not catching up your feet as you blindly followed Tommy into his own home, cutting around the whole kingdom. The rest followed close behind making their way into the house. 

Their clothes were tattered and dirty, singes from the fire were on their war uniforms and armor. As they scrambled for safety the arrows kept coming, hitting the house and the ground outside of it. You felt like this was it for you, your first friends, your enemies shooting arrows of fire at you through your so-called enemies house. You had to stay alive though, keep up the act, but right now you didn't really have to keep an act up because you were actually scared for your life.

The grass in front of Tommy's house was burning while the men gave Tommy all of their arrows. Wilbur commanded them to hail them with arrows. Arrows began burning through the walls breaking into their safe haven. To escape this situation Wibur had told all of them to scatter and make it harder for the archers to shoot them. They all did just that, playing on the defensive dodging the arrows that were hurled towards their way. 

Eventually the archers jumped off of the tower retreating towards a nearby river. The L'Manburgians currently had the high ground and You started shooting with arrows purposefully missing so you wouldn't hurt them.

"They are heading to Ponk's tower!" Tommy shouted.

You looked up to one of the highest towers in the kingdom. Damn.

"In that case we need to start heading towards Ponk's tower!" Tubbo yelled, ceasing his arrows trying to get the rest of them to follow his lead.

The men followed Tommy through his shortcuts to get to the base of Ponk's tower faster. Fundy went forward shooting at the others at the base of the tower. You, Eret, Tommy and Tubbo followed Fundy and started shooting and dodging as well. 

For now they have retreated towards the walls of L'Manburg hiding slightly below the top. Wilbur was there at first then the rest of the groups followed. The arrows couldn't reach them and the boys cheerfully pointed that fact out. Soon they had started slowly retreating as the sun went down in the distance. You sighed and cheered with the rest of the men that they finally stopped fire. Your heart still beating fast you looked behind you towards Eret sending each other a knowing glance.

The rest were cheering and complimenting each other until Eret spoke up.

"Gentlemen, I think we need to go back to our home." Eret said.

"I think you're right, Eret." Tommy agreed happily.

They made their way back to L'Manburg into the night with Tommy leading them for the last time tonight. Tommy and Wilbur were playfully bickering through the whole walk back to L'Manburg. It was a fun time filled with laughter and it was much needed after that whole war. Even though they all were beaten and tattered with burn marks and scratches, they kept smiling. It's crazy to think about.

The fun ended for you as they reached their destination. The extended walls of L'Manburg were in their sights and your heart rate picked up even more than it had before. This is the end. 

"Gentlemen in L'Manburg I have a secret weapon." Eret says, sparking a new conversation.

"What is it?" You asked playing dumb. 

"What is it?" Wilbur asked asked as well

"A secret weapon!?" Tubbo exclaimed.

"I feel like Eret is just going to pull out a giant missile." Fundy joked around and your breath hitched. If only they knew.

"But seriously, what do you mean you got a secret weapon?" Tommy spoke fast.

"I've been grinding for equipment, I've been grinding materials." Eret said not to give it away.

"Show us please!" Tommy exclaimed as they all entered L'Manburg once more today.

You joined in as well, "I haven't seen any of this show us Eret!"

You hated lying to them.

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

"This is the final control room for you too!" Dream yelled with excitement showing the beautiful dark room. 

The chests were empty, there was a button on top of a podium, and there was a secret room where Dream and the rest would be hiding after the war. The plan was simple enough on paper. The two countries would fight until sun down and then Eret would lead the L'Manburgians to the final control room where he would press the button and then The citizens of L'Manburg would be killed and a life would be taken from them.

Dream has taught You about the life limit. Everyone in the kingdom had three lives and if all three lives were taken, there is no coming back. you felt weary taking away someone's life.

"This is where the battle will end." Dream said calmly

Currently it was just Eret and You with Dream. Dream kept explaining the mechanics of the room while they both listened. You kept slipping in and out of your mind at the moment.

This would be the end, he said. It will all come to an end and you will finally find your place in the huge kingdom. you can finally have closure. It will all come to an end.

"You two are on the right side of history, don't worry. Cause if you do this you'll be doing the kingdom a huge favor."

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

"This way." Eret led the group into the final control room.

The men were astonished about the huge tunnel entrance to the room. They continue to rush down the tunnel to catch up to Eret.

"I'm excited to show you!" Eret cheerfully said as he walked. "They will never suspect a thing!" 

They all ended up in the final control room. You made sure to stand next to Eret making sure that they stayed together. you knew where to leave and when the button was pressed but you had a few minutes to play it off.

"WHAT?"  

"This is so cool!"

"What is this place?!"

"There's nothing in the chests." Wilbur said bluntly, as he turned to us still crouching because he opened the chests.

"Eret?" Tubbo asked.

Eret pressed the button and then the wall behind Wilbur opened and revealed Dream, Sapnap, George and Punz. The men started to scream in shock. They were getting attacked. Blood was being spilled and fire was burning down the whole final control room. Eret grabbed your hand pulling you to a secret wall, opening it to reveal stairs that led out of the final control room trying to protect you from getting hurt.

The L'Manburgians fought anyone they saw, but the others knew who specifically to kill. As the L'Manburgians fought for their lives you heard Wilbur yell out over all of the chaos.

"A TRAITOR! GET OUT GET OUT!"

Were you a traitor? Yes you were. They died. The fire around their bodies began to calm as their murders stood over their bodies breathing heavily. There was an orange and purple tint to the room. It looked unreal. This was it. Their bodies began to glow a light blue color and disintegrate showing that one of their lives was taken that day. This was the closure you wanted, but why did it feel like an unfinished symphony? Like it reached the climax of the song then ended.

It's over

Eret saluted to their disintegrating bodies and you followed suit.

"Down with the revolution boys! It was never meant to be."

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

Wilbur's POV

"Eret how could you?" We sat on the burnt grass of L'Manburg waiting for one another to show up from being killed. 

This was what I suspected from the beginning. Sadly this is what I suspected from the beginning.

"Hey where's Y/N?!" Tubbo whipped his head frantically looking for her.

"They were a traitor as well." Fundy said sadly.

Tommy and Eret were facing each other. Tommy in L'Manburg's walls and Eret standing a few feet outside of them. It was a beautiful picture at this moment, very symbolic. 

Tubbo was talking to Eret in a distraught voice before Tommy had interrupted him. "Eret listen to me! And I mean this in the nicest way possible. You fucked up." Tommy said harshly to Eret.

Eret only smirked at this like the madman he is and spoke around him, "farewell gentlemen." And he left us in our ruins.

I had such high hopes for the two of them. Especially Y/N. I knew they were trying to find their home, their place in this huge world. Maybe they'll find it with Dream. That's not what I would've wanted, but they might want to stay there. they'll be back, they'll find their home soon.

"We'll meet again. I know you."

taglist: @hi-imuwu​

[dewdewick]

Shadows in the dust | Chapter 4

Pairing/s: Finnick Odair x fem reader

Summary: At the age of 18 you thought you’d soon be free of the hunger games, unfortunately fate has a different plan. You are picked as a tribute for district 2 and thrust into capitol life.

Warning/s: Angst, Hurt/comfort, Trust issues, Death, disassociation, murder, Animal murder, Blood, Torture, Mental illnesses, manipulation tactics, Weapons, Swearing, Canon typical violence, Mentions of psychological distress, Use of Y/N, Fem reader, descriptions of clothing reader wears, explicit descriptions of weapon use

A/N: wrote part of this on a plane lol. Hopefully y’all like it! As always thank the betas and I love them.

Word count: 5.0K

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

She smiled at the young man next to her, scooting over and snuggling into his chest. Just one more moment of comforting human interaction, one quiet moment of peace. She felt a bit numb, her vision a little fuzzy. Today might be the day she died, today might be the day Finch died. And no matter what only one person was coming out alive.

His arms wrapped around her and he let out a sleepy grunt, his chin resting atop her head. “Mornin' sugar” he mumbled out, his morning voice deeper but soft at the same time. She took a deep breath, it felt as if she hadn’t been breathing for an hour. She blinked the fuzziness out of her eyes and spoke her good morning into his chest. He only chuckled, a tired sigh following his laughs.

“What time is it?” he asked gently, his fingers playing with the collar of the silky pajamas she wore. “No idea, but I'm sure they'll be in to prep us any minute.” she grimaced, holding him a bit tighter. He hugged her back just as tight, “I promise I'll come find you, just find somewhere to hide and run away from the cornucopia. I'll get supplies and come find you ok?” he whispered in her ear. “I’ll keep myself alive, I'm not above making a poison or two if I have to. Plus almost every arena has rocks to throw. You worry about not getting killed ok?” she said, a determined feeling in her gut, it swirled with fear and hunger, a displeasing blend of emotions.

“I'll still find you.” he repeated, pulling away to sit up a bit and look at her face. He stuck out his little finger, “pinky promise” he grinned. She interlocked her finger with his as she laid on her back, a smile present on her face as well. He laid back in their mess of pillows and blankets, their fingers remaining intertwined as long as they had left. As she predicted their mentors came to fetch them and get them ready separately, the warmth of their hands disappearing quickly. Two avoxes followed and as she and Finch left the room she saw the dismantling of their fort.

Aerith took her to a separate room and gave her breakfast, a spread of everything she could remember within her time in the capital. She had a cup of hot chocolate and looked at her pinky, curling it into the rest of her fingers. When she finished her food she was dressed in a loose sweater and pants. Aerith then moisturized her face and put a chapstick on her lips. It was a quiet and repeated activity for Aerith, like washing a dish or throwing out trash.

The old woman took her to an elevator, ushering her in as the doors closed. The elevator shot up quickly, taking them to the roof where a hovercraft awaited. Peacekeepers took note as they boarded the craft, assigned seats waiting for them. She sat next to Aerith and her leg bounced a bit as she waited, watching the other tributes walk in with their stylists as well. After a moment Finch walked in, trailed by Hebe who sat next to her. The kind woman gave her a reassuring smile and took her hand, squeezing it lightly.

It was about 5 minutes before the last tributes and stylists entered the hovercraft, taking their seats before the vehicle took off. Men and women in white coats began to walk around, starting with district 1. She heard Dutchess and Ammo make small pained noises, her hand gripping Hebe’s a bit tighter. A woman approached her “Give me your arm” she said authoritatively, reaching out.

She gave her left arm, wrist up and the woman took it. Quickly she jammed a needle under the skin, pulling a trigger. A small light blinked under her skin and she made a pained noise. The woman pressed a gauze pad to her skin, moist from a salve. The wound cleared up quickly, as if it was never even there. The medical staff went to all the tributes to administer the trackers before they almost disappeared completely.

The craft was full of soft chatter, last minute advice and well wishes. Hebe kept her hand and Finch’s held the entire ride, a small gesture but comforting. Aerith gave her small bits of advice, mostly about finding water as soon as possible. She appreciated the help, even if she had been told a million times already. The craft landed abruptly, peacekeepers immediately opening the doors and ushering the district 1 tributes up.

She was taken with Aerith to an underground room and locked inside. Aerith looked at the wall where a garment bag hung and walked over, pulling out an army green jumpsuit and a dirt brown jacket. “Let’s get you changed.” Aerith instructed simply, unzipping the jumpsuit. She stripped down and Aerith gave her a sports bra and a fresh pair of underwear, waiting until she put them on. She then zipped her into the jumpsuit and fit like a glove, custom made just for her.

Shoes and socks were put on her feet and her hair was tied back as much as possible for fear of anything obstructing her vision. Finally Aerith took out the necklace she had been given by her family, her token. Her old but nimble fingers clasped it around the young woman’s neck. “There, all ready” She spoke softly, turning Y/N towards her. “I will tell you what I tell all of my tributes. Fight, run and most of all be ruthless. At the end of the day it’s kill or be killed and I know you best so I’ll be rooting for you. Don’t let them underestimate you because you aren’t a barbarian like your district partner. You are strong enough to fight and stronger than many I’ve seen win before.” She spoke lightly.

It was a confusing moment, being told to murder and that it was ok because she was loved. Somehow it made her a bit happy though, despite the vulgarity of it all. Aerith handed her a glass of water, trying to get her as hydrated as possible. She drank it in silence before a male voice informed them they had 2 minutes left.

Aerith had her stand, slipping the canvas jacket on her shoulders and zipping it up. She tucked any loose hair away, smoothing her hand over the young woman’s cheek. The male voice started to count down from 60, a glass cylinder opening in the corner of the room.

The young woman froze, true dread settling in her stomach. Aerith took her hand, leading her to the cylinder. “Don’t let them see you cry” she insisted as she placed the girl in the tube. The male voice only seemed to get louder, the time running out.

The door slid closed and she took a deep breath, her hands shaking. The platform rose and she was met with blinding sun and the familiar sounds of wind. As her eyes adjusted she looked around frantically, she was on a small platform surrounded by water. The gleaming cornucopia in front of her on an island of its own. She looked behind her to see a scorching desert, red rocks and all.

The screen on the cornucopia displayed the number 60 and the same man spoke. “Welcome to the 69th hunger games. May the odds be ever in your favor.” He said as the clock struck 50.

She looked around once more for Finch.

40

She saw Dutchess staring her down.

30

She cracked her neck and knuckles.

20

Her eyes met Finch’s, he nodded to a beach behind her.

10

She took a few deep breaths, getting ready to dive in.

0

Her ears rang as she dove in, swimming towards the shore as fast as she could. The water was fresh and ice cold, her skin prickling at the feeling. Water got in her mouth and she spit it out to breathe. She swam hard and fast, an arrow narrowly missing her head as she made it ashore. A tin water bottle sat on the shore alongside a single rope, she snatched it quickly and hunched down to avoid more arrows. Filling the bottle she looked up to see the young girl from district 7 running through the water to her.

3 arrows landed in the child’s body in quick succession, a gurgling sound escaping her as an arrow pierced through her eye. Y/N gave a horrified sputter as the girl fell into the water. Blood splashed her legs as the girl fell, the red liquid mixing with the water. It splashed at her feet and she picked up her rope and 2 nearby arrows. her feet nearly slipped as she tried to run. Sand and blood stuck to her wet shoes as she escaped across the beige landscape.

She heard both screams and cheers behind her accompanied by the ringing. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breathing just as erratic as she ran as fast as she could. Running across the bumpy terrain she saw a rock formation a distance away in her path. She passed red rocks more frequently as she made her way towards it, spotting a cluster at the base of a hill as she got closer. Skidding to a stop she slid behind them, bugs of all sorts skittering away as she made her landing.

She looked at the rope, forearm sized thin metallic bottle and 2 arrows in her hands as she caught her breath. She could still hear distant screams from the lake, now accompanied by a desert breeze. She looked up to see a large hill backing up to a cliff formation. Prickly cactus and tumbleweeds littered the ground, some with strange colors.

Cannons began to erupt and she counted until they stopped at 13. She sighed quietly, closing her eyes for a moment. 13 was more than half, she knew the tributes of these games meant business. Someone would be after her at some point and she needed to find shelter. Her mind drifted to Finch for a moment but she willed the thoughts away, not wanting to think of his possible demise.

She looked up at the rock formation behind her once more. Maybe there would be an overhang she could rest underneath? Anything would be better than hiding behind a few rocks out in the open. She stood, tying a loop at the end of her rope and starting to make the hike up the hill. She made sure to be as quick as possible, not wanting to be spotted by anyone.

She crouched down once at the top, looking over the horizon to see if she could spot anything. She saw a few people at the cornucopia but couldn’t make out faces really. As far as any other tributes she was out of luck, they were nowhere to be seen.

She walked as carefully as she could down the other side of the hill, cactus and thistle bushes littering the ground. Red rock slowly grew black, the texture feeling less dusty under her feet. She looked up to a rock she could see sticking out of the formation, deciding on it as a target. She knotted the rope a few times as footholds and threw the looped side to try and catch the rock. Eventually she did after a few tries, tugging on it to make sure it could hold her body weight. She placed the arrows between her teeth and grabbed the rope.

She hoisted herself up, using the knots so as to not fall or tear up her hands. She climbed as far as she could, holding the top knot with her feet and reaching the rock. She pulled herself up and sat, looking up at the rocks and spotting a higher overhang. It would be a good hiding place, at least until she could get her bearings.

She repeated her climbing technique until she got to the overhang. Exhausted by that point, she set her water and rope next to her as she sat in the crevice provided by the large rock. She finally had a moment to think, a moment to breathe.

She opened the water bottle, taking a few small sips. enough to wet her lips but not too much in effort to save it. Dust blew on the large hill in front of her, swaying the prickly bushes atop it. She saw a tiny bit of movement coming from the side of the hill causing her to fold in on herself.

Two cottontail rabbits sprang across the hill in a sort of race, a burst of brown, black and grey. She smiled at the sight, even in the arena animals were still animals. The two rabbits stopped to nibble at a patch of green weeds at the base of the kill. Their pink ears standing upright in caution. She looked to the arrows in her hand once again and then at the position of the sun. it would be ok to make a fire until dusk, the breeze would erase and smoke trail.

She took an arrow, aiming it for one of the rabbits and throwing it quickly and with force. Unfortunately for her it missed, sending the rabbits fleeing as quickly as they came. She sighed a curse under her breath, she would need a better weapon if she was to hunt. She looked out to the hill once more, spotting a few possibly edible fruits on top of cactus but nothing more.

She sat watching for almost an hour, that is until she once again saw movement. It looked as if a rock moved slowly across the base of the hill. She squinted, that couldn’t be right could it? Was she hallucinating?

She saw it move again, noticing small tan legs and a round head poking out.

A desert tortoise. She cringed to herself, she had seen it eaten before but declined to try it. The tortoise made its way slowly across the base of the rocks and she took a deep breath, looping her rope around the rocks. She made her way down to where the animal walked, picking up her arrow from the ground. “I’m so sorry Mr.Turtle” She said, mostly to herself.

She quickly stepped on the tortoise’s shell and drove the arrow into its head. Her hands shook as blood spewed from the animal's body. Her breathing picked up as her vision went blurry once more. Picking up the limp animal and gently setting it aside, she gathered some dry brush for a fire. All of this felt fake like a dream or hallucination that she was experiencing was this real? Was she actually dead in the water by the cornucopia?

She looked down at her hands, covered in blood and caked in dirt. Her fingernails, painted that pretty red color, now blended in with the blood sticking to her skin. And as suddenly as it all started, it stopped. She was herself, she was real, she was there, she was alive.

She walked up to a cactus nearby as she caught her breath and got her bearings, examining the fruit on top of it. It looked like a prickly pear, but it also looked off somehow. It had a bright red color, not as pink as she originally remembered. The thorns seemed wrong too, barbed instead of straight like normal. They were most likely poisonous, but that could come to her advantage at some point. She kept it in a mental checklist for later if she needed it.

She continued to collect the dry brush and sticks, using them to make a small fire. As the fire latched on to the wood she provided she added more, along with a few stones. She used the tip of one of her arrows to pry the bottom shell off the tortoise, her brows furrowed as she did. She used the sharp edge of the arrow to cut the head and legs off the animal. Disemboweling it onto the ground, she set the limbs and shell in the fire.

Once cooked she scraped the skin off, eating the meat inside. It had a strange taste, like a mix of pork and chicken. She ate all she could, using the arrow to scrape as much off the shell as possible. She placed the shell over what remained of the fire to dry it out, thinking she might be able to use it as a bowl or possibly storage late on.

Sitting in the dirt she looked up at the sky, it had to be late afternoon by then. The sun would set soon enough and she needed to get back to higher ground. She took the shell off the coals, standing and heaping dust onto the remains of the fire. Climbing back up to her perch, she looked out to the cornucopia again, a fire sat at its base.

She wondered who it could be that set it, Ammo and Dutchess? Possibly the careers from district 4. She once again willed any thoughts of Finch away, she would find out soon enough if he was alive. Another flicker of fire caught her eye instead, closer than she would’ve liked but far enough away that she felt safe. It sat to her right at another rock formation with a circular crater at the base. It didn’t seem like a smart place to hide in her mind, anyone who stumbled across it would have the advantage of the higher ground.

The fire was burning bright and she hoped whoever set it would stomp it out soon, she didn’t want to hear their screams. The sun started to set after a while of her observing the competition and she offered a small smile at the colors of the sunset. The clouds tinted pink and the horizon dipped into a dark orange and yellow color.

She laid with her head on the coiled rope and an arrow in her hand, watching the sky. She thought of how her family must be watching, she wondered if they were celebrating her success so far. She looked at her necklace, opening it and looking at the photos encased for just a moment. She took a deep breath and closed it, unwilling to cry at such a moment.

The sky continued to turn darker; pink, orange and yellow replaced by indigo and a deep violet. Stars peeking out from beneath clouds and all was quiet for a moment. Crickets chirped and she heard rustling from the ground below her perch.

The capital flag appeared in the sky, lighting it up in place of where the moon had just been. Music played as faces appeared, cannons once again booming. She watched the faces carefully, her mind checking off the dead. Both tributes from 3 dead, the boy from 5 and the girl from 6 joining. The boy from 7 appeared and she took a deep breath as it faded to the little girl she had barely begun to know. Once the girl faded she began counting again, the tributes from 10 and 9 appearing quickly. The girl from 11 and both from 12 finished the count.

The panem flag appeared again and then faded back to the moon. She closed her eyes in a mixture of sadness and relief. Sadness for the lives lost, so many children with no choice. Sadness for the families of the 13 children that would not be coming home. However the spark of relief lived in her heart, Finch.

Finch had lived, Finch was alive. She hoped the fire next to the cornucopia was his, she hoped he was safe. She let her eyes close once again as the breeze began to pick up, turning to wind. A chill ran down her spine as she huddled into her jacket.

The wind whipped and howled, an unnerving lullaby as she moved to the back wall of the overhang. She huddled into herself, her possessions kept close to her chest. Cold began to set in as she dozed off and for a short while she fell into a dreamless sleep, her situation and stress melted away into complete nothingness. It was only about 4 hours however until she was awakened by a mixture of strong winds and screams.

Her eyes snapped open as the wind and cold both whipped at her face. The sound of screams echoed from below, a sharp piercing noise from a girl. “They’re eating me! God help! they crawled out of the sand!” She shrieked into the darkness. Y/N couldn’t see what was happening but the other voice explained it for her. “What the hell are those things?! It looks like a Leech with a giant mouth!” The male voice yelled.

Horrible guttural screams followed from the girl as she begged the boy to stop touching her. “You’re losing blood! They’re sucking your blood!” He reasoned as the girl let out more pained wails. Y/N covered her ears, not wanting to hear anything else.

The girl screamed for hours, the boy only adding to her pain as he desperately tried to help. She screamed her throat raw, barely able to let out more than a cracked wail by the time the sky began to change to a light blue. Y/N had to get away, it was all too much. She took her possessions and crawled out into the wind.

She was immediately blown to her knees, the rock scraping her skin. She winced and let out a small pained noise as she felt small rocks embed themselves into her flesh. She did her best to crawl to where the wind wouldn’t hit as hard, looping her rope around a rock and climbing down to the ground. Screams seemed to be her companion, the girl letting out pained noises every so often.

Her feet landed in the dirt and she whipped her rope a few times to get it down. The wind was dying down a bit but it was still strong. She knew walking against it was a bad idea now that she was on the ground.

She would have to pass the two tributes in order to leave. A weight settled in her stomach as the sun began to peek over the horizon. She looked at her tortoise shell, arrows, water bottle and rope and wondered what weapon she could even use long distance. She supposed she could use an arrow but her aim didn’t seem great with the rabbits the previous day.

She stared at the objects, trying to think of an idea that could help her. Suddenly she heard shuffling nearby, she picked up a rock quickly and held it by her head, ready to throw. A small mule-deer came into view, obviously startled once it saw her as well. She stood still for a moment, eyes locked with the animal. Taking a slow step backwards, the rocks beneath her made a small crunch. Just like that the deer ran, gone as quick as it came.

She lowered her arm, her jacket whipping in the wind. She looked at the rock in her hand, smiling as an idea finally came to her. She took one of the arrows, whittling it against the upper edge tortoise shell. A hole big enough for her rope was made after a few moments and she quickly made two others just like it. She strung the rope through the holes and slung the makeshift bag over her head and onto her shoulder.

She took a few rocks, placing them in the shell with an accomplished smile. Clipping the carabiner of her water bottle to her contraption she began walking, towards the screams of another tribute.

She didn’t have to walk long in the light of dawn until she spotted them, the boy standing in protection of his friend. Unfortunately she was spotted as well, the boy held a pitchfork up to defend them. “Who are you?! What district?!” He demanded, his feet automatically assuming a fighting stance.

“2, but I’m not here to hurt you! I just want to find my friend!” She said with a raised hand, a buzzing returning to her ears. The boy raised a brow, walking towards her a bit. “And how do I know you aren’t lying?” He quipped, the pitchfork aimed at her abdomen. “I’m small and I have no experience fighting, I don’t even have a proper weapon” she said as she poised herself to run.

The boy gave a peculiar look but was interrupted by a wail from his partner who she couldn’t see. “Do you have medicine?” He asked quietly, lowering his weapon a bit. “No but I can try to make some, I’m good with herbs and I know what numbs pain.” She said, spotting a few yucca plants nearby. Her hands felt numb at the moment, a sensation as if cotton balls were filling her head.

“Help us and I’ll help you, I know how to kill rabbits.” The boy proposed, lowering his weapon a bit more. “But trick me and I won’t hesitate to kill you where you stand,” he warned. She only nodded, taking a few steps forward “Y/N” she said quickly, introducing herself as her mother taught. “Marpat, district 8.” He said quickly, motioning her to follow.

He took her to where his partner laid. She was pale, so pale it was a wonder she was alive. At the tribute parade she had a lovely dark complexion, but now it was like she was a different person. Fat slick black bugs sat all over her body and clothes, the skin around them raw and weeping. The large bugs had wings and thin limbs that looked as if they dug into the skin like needles. For some reason Y/N didn’t react to the insects, the smell or the gruesome sight.

After a moment Y/N spoke “Have you taken any of them off?” she asked, projecting calmness in her voice as she kneeled next to the girl. “I tried, Kuba wouldn’t stop screaming.” Marpat explained with an anxious voice.

“I can’t fix this…they’re sucking her blood, eating her skin.” She explained “they’re mutts, probably have barbed teeth or something like that” she added as she chewed her lip a bit.

“What do I do? I can’t kill her, she’s my friend.” He said desperately “can’t you get them off without it hurting? Or give her something to ease the pain?” He asked, kneeling next to her. “Even if I did, she’s dying. She’s not getting better.” She said, looking at the girl's face. Kuba had dried tears down her face and a tired look in her eye.

“Do you….want me to do it?” Y/n felt a calm but far away sensation coming over her. It was like she was slowly losing herself, losing consciousness while she was awake. Marpat had a terrified look in his eye but he looked down at his friend's emaciated body. He slowly nodded, turning and walking a few feet away, as to not see what was about to happen.

Y/n felt as if she was sleepwalking, watching her hands as she picked up one of her arrows. She looked down at the dying child in front of her and did the unthinkable. She slit her throat, her hand over the girl's eyes as she was splattered with blood. She felt so incomprehensibly numb, so cold, so not herself. She didn’t feel anything as she stared at the hot thick blood on her hands. It didn’t feel like what it was, it didn’t feel like anything. She barely blinked as she continued to cut deeper until the wiggling stopped.

She didn’t react when the cannon went off just as she didn’t react when Marpat called her name. However she did react when she was touched, whipping around and plunging the arrow deep right below the ribs of the person behind her. She felt so far away as he fell to his knees, so cold as he begged for his life. She felt like cotton filled her brain as she smashed his skull with a rock. It was like she was watching a movie, a clip from some other games past. Someone else was doing this and she didn’t have a choice but to witness the horrific scene.

It was like she was doing the dishes, taking out the trash. If she was conscious enough she might have wondered if that was how Aerith felt before the games. How it affected a person to watch children they personally knew die time after time. Instead she just picked up her things quietly, along with the pitchfork from the limp hands of Marpat. Walking into the desert as she could only really think of one word, Finch.

[midnight-in-town]

About the current (last?) arc of AnY and going full circle

Sorry if some fans already mentioned those ideas but I’ve been rereading the current arc, because it’s been quite long and the pace has its flaws sometimes, so I wanted to broaden my perspective on the story. 

First of all, as an introduction can I just say that I’m, as always, impressed by Hak’s character. He had so much cliché and shallow potential when the story started (I really used to roll my eyes at him), but he became one of my absolute favorite by how deep and strong-hearted he actually is, once he allows people behind the walls he built around him. Anyway, my love for his character & development knows no boundary. I had to say this, ok. I’ll explain why later in the post. Moving on. 

A conflict of generation

If there is one thing I love about Kusanagi-sensei, it’s the feminine touch she adds to her writing. For example, when she naturally addressed periods during the Xing arc and it fit perfectly, because that’s just how her writing goes. In this arc, it shows through the initial bold move to tell us readers about the past through the thoughts and words of a character we’ve never met, that is to say, Yonhi, Yuhon’s wife and Suwon’s mother. 

And yet, it made absolute sense, because Yonhi was the reason behind the cataclysm that eventually led to Yuhon killing priests, as well as the falling-out between him and his younger brother, Il. All along, Yonhi was the silent but pained witness to this feud, watching as the ego of two brothers destroyed everything when none of the two backed down, leading to first Kashi’s death, then Yuhon’s murder and finally Suwon’s coup. 

So, in a way, even if I think Suwon makes a far better king than Yuhon or Il, his circumstances kinda precede the logical decision to get Il out of the picture before he completely annihilated his own kingdom in poverty and war, because there is too much resentment and hatred that fueled Suwon while growing up, even if we readers know that his motivations are primarily about saving Kouka from war against the Kai Empire.

Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely despise both Yuhon and Il but, unfortunately for Suwon, Yona growing up sheltered and mostly unaware of the horrible truth highlights her own decisions throughout the series to be completely selfless and wanting to own up to her father’s misjudgement, rather than trying to get back at Suwon, effectively breaking the cycle of hatred amongst the royal family. 

Why the Wind Tribe kept on supporting Il when everyone else could notice that he was betting on his daughter as the reincarnation of King Hiryuu to save his country is beyond me (Mundok plz explain). Not that Yuhon was better, preaching wars, and I’m glad that Il eventually reconciled with Yonhi, telling him that he would accept Suwon’s judgement but...

...I can’t forgive him for his words. 

Like Yonhi, I’d rather he would have hoped that his conflict with his brother did not reach his children than entertaining it the way he did.

Hopefully though, now that Yona read Yonhi’s memoirs, she will work towards achieving that goal. Not that I have any doubt, since she never really managed to hate Suwon. 

Speaking of the past generation, reading the latest chapters I couldn’t help but wonder about Yona's sad dream... could it be that she inherited Kashi’s gift? Kashi did say that she had these prophetic visions since very young which doesn’t seem to be Yona’s case, but I’ll keep the idea in mind, because it’s interesting. I mean, from Yonhi’s memoirs, it seems that Kashi envisioned that the child she would have would be Hiryuu’s reincarnation (whoever the father was going to be), so Yona inheriting the same prophetic gift from her mother would make sense. 

What an ironic parallel to Suwon inheriting the Crimson Illness from Yonhi if that’s the case, am I right? 

Yona as Kouka’s next Queen

And by that I do not mean Keishuk’s plan to marry her to Suwon, because of her popularity with Kouka’s people. Obviously, the story always was to conclude in Yona getting her throne back and that’s even easier to imagine with Suwon’s disabling illness, but becoming a ruler is tough work and Yona had no real experience acting as a leader for an entire country. 

She didn’t know much before her father’s murder and, even after she became a runaway with Hak and the rest of the HHB, she finely dealt with crises affecting some parts of the kingdom but never the whole kingdom at once, like it’s doomed to happen with the war against the Kai Empire. 

So I really appreciated her stepping up when Suwon couldn’t, because that’s definitely good training and we see the results in the latest chapters:

To be fair, I always thought that Keishuk would be the biggest thorn in Yona’s side during this arc but, as many characters have said in this arc, he’s rather clever and honest about what he intends to achieve, which is why it’s not in his interests to get in the way of Yona if they share a similar goal. 

Looking forward to her facing even greater challenges. Good luck, Yona. <3

War against the Kai Empire: there is strength in unity

The Kai Empire has been depicted as the story’s big bad for a long while now and the common goal for which Yona’s faction and Suwon’s allies could unite, but I’m glad to get more specifics and new characters to explore that part of the plot.

Namely, Mei and Vall. With Chagol, they seem like the perfect foil trio to Suwon, Yona and Hak, except that Chagol seems like a real thorn in the other two’s backs, when a strong bond still ties our main trio in spite of the sad circumstances of the beginning. I particularly love the mirroring reflection between Mei and Yona...

&

...except that Mei is not at odds with one kingdom but with two and that she also deals with the Crimson Illness. :/

Now that war has started, the big threat that South Kai represents will obviously be dealt with, but Kouka kingdom will need more than its five tribes to win this. That’s where I’m sure we all expect to see old “enemies” come back, namely Xing Kingdom, since Kouren signed a military agreement with Suwon, thanks to Yona and Tao. I would bet that this won’t be enough either, but Xing are the only known allies that Kouka kingdom has. 

There is another “enemy” we know from the previous arc though, who have strong feelings against the Kai Empire, specifically about rulers treating their women badly and they are...

...Ying Kuelbo and the Tully tribe. 

The big difference between Xing Kingdom and the Tully tribe is that Suwon never met or dealt directly with Kuelbo the way he did with Kouren and Tao. The Tully tribe lost and Kuelbo ran away, betrayed and having to find a new way to take on the Kai Empire. That’s why I think the Tully tribe would eventually make for a good ally in this war: it showed good promises when Yuran and Yona got along and I think Yona understood where Kuelbo was coming from, especially now that Mei is with them and can probably tell them in details about Chagol.

Not saying this will happen soon, but since there is someone who met and fought against Kuelbo, probably gaining his respect, if this person was to seek the Tully tribe to make them Kouka Kingdom’s ally on Yona’s guidance, I think Kuelbo would give it a thought. That’s right, I’m talking about Hak, who’s currently on his way with Yoon to the Earth Tribe to fetch a drug that will not be able to save neither Suwon nor Mei, thanks Zeno for spoiling us. 

That’s what I meant when I said that Hak slowly became one of my favorite characters throughout the story. While the Sky Tribe seems to be taking bets on who between Yona and Suwon will eventually sit for good on that throne, there is a good chance that Hak will be one of the key players when it comes to winning that war against South Kai. Not that we should expect any less from the Thunder Beast. <3

To be very honest though, I expected this arc to be very tough for his character, because the truth behind Il’s death and Suwon’s coup would never be easily understandable to him (Yona’s own words, not mine): 

Yet, surprisingly he was able to at least listen and, no matter if he will ever understand Suwon’s choice or not, he decided to trust in Yona’s decision to back Suwon in the rising political issues.  

In general, I love how Hak is the least bound by the past before Suwon’s coup. He did respect Il as his king, but he did not protect Yona in the beginning for anyone else’s sake but her own. Just like Kashi once asked him to always protect Yona (which is sweet since she could see the future) but, considering he never even thought about her words once in the story, it’s likely he doesn’t remember that at all, making the choice to be by Yona’s side defined as solely his own. 

It’s this strength of his that eventually led him to say recently that he would go fetch that drug with Yoon, knowing that it was for Suwon’s sake (surprising Suwon himself), just like he will definitely fight for Kouka Kingdom, not because Yona wants him to but because it’s clearly his own desire (see ch211 where he let Yun go alone so that he could help the Earth Tribe fight):

All that makes Hak the wildest card of every agency in the plot, not simply because he’s strong and reliable and the biggest worry of the Sky Tribe, but because...

...Yona and the four dragons will never give him up.

Through Hak, Yona will be able to assert her political weight and he will be there for her, like he always was, making it impossible for their little group to lose. What a power move, I love it. 

I think I should stop there because I already rambled so much. Looking forward to the rest of the arc, it’s going to be a wild ride!! 

[whatifxwereyou]

The Oncoming Storm Part 28: Big Bad Wolf

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

Just when you think that things were getting a bit more under your control shit gets incredibly real. Why does it feel that things are going to get worse before they get better?

The choice is coming, but have a bit more plot first. Don't worry, I'll break up the angst with some fun soon enough. Y/N needs a hug, right? Hoping to do some more art of her today too. Also, wanted to say thanks again for reading. You guys are the best ;_;

Part 27 Part 29 Chapter Index

Grounding exercises helped and while you were still shaky, you managed to get cleaned up and ready for the day. As you made your way toward Raiden’s chamber, you felt considerably more put together than you had only moments ago. Hopefully, that would be enough false confidence to fool everyone else into believing it, too. The good news was that you didn’t think that Raiden had any interest in your emotional state and he likely wouldn’t pry. You were grateful for that.

Sometimes with trauma you just wanted to move on instead of dwelling on something that was so far beyond your control you had no idea where to begin with coping.

Turning the corner, you found Kung Lao walking toward you. You were relieved to find that he looked much better than the day before. Color had flooded back to his face and while he was still bruised and bandaged, he seemed chipper. You waved at him in greeting and then, much to your surprise, he picked you right up off of the ground, spun you around, and then set you back down on your feet.

“Whoa, hey!” You laughed, getting the shivers. He was back to his old self again. “Someone’s feeling better.” You peeked at the bandages you could see and he didn’t swat you away. In fact, he seemed pretty proud that you were checking on him.

“Much better. A little sore but the fever’s gone so practically good as new.” He took a step back from you and nodded down the hall. “Yesterday is kind of a blur. Were you actually there with me or did I just hallucinate that you were?”

“…do you hallucinate often?”

“No, but…”

“Are these hallucinations usually of me?”

“I had a fever, Y/N.”

“Have you considered talking to someone about these hallucinations? Therapy is incredibly helpful.” You teased him and he rolled his eyes. “Yes, I was there with you. You were sick.”

“Did I give you a hard time? I felt terrible so that’s possible.”

“No harder than the usual.”

“Good!” He laughed but seemed relieved. What was he hiding, exactly? “Glad to hear it. What about you, Y/N? Are you feeling okay? No mysterious artifact-related illness?”

“Yes, I’m uh… I’m fine. As you said, I’m probably cursed, so I’m used to feeling like crap.” You had expected him to ask you but your voice still quavered nervously and you were annoyed with yourself. Covering it up with sarcasm was your only defense remaining.

“You are a terrible liar.” He didn’t get the chance to tease you further because Liu Kang was joining you from down the hall. Even from afar he looked terrible. He was still cute, but he looked like he hadn’t slept in a week and was paler than you’d ever seen anyone before.

“Oh no, Liu!” You gasped.

“Wow.” Kung Lao was laughing at his brother and so you smacked his arm to silence him but it didn’t work.

“Are you okay, Liu?” You glared at Kung Lao and then gave your attention back to Liu.

“I’ve already been to the infirmary.” Despite how gray he was, he smiled. “High fever but nothing I can’t handle.” He took a step back from you and tilted his head, looking you over from head to toe. Then he brushed his finger over your cheek just beneath your eye and you stiffened up in alert. Kung Lao was looking at him as though he had some nerve, too. Then you swatted his hand away and stepped back. “Have you been crying?”

You averted your eyes and tightened your lips. How could he have known? Just by looking at you? What kind of crazy in tune with your body and emotions was he? Kung Lao snapped to you in alarm and then pouted as if annoyed that he hadn’t noticed you’d been obviously upset. So much for having felt good about your façade.

“…no?” You’d taken too long to answer. Kung Lao’s pout faded and he chuckled.

“You are the worst liar, really. It was a joke at first but now I’m serious about it.”

“Is everything okay?” Liu was trying not to sound worried but was failing at it. You nodded to let him know you were fine. “Just… having a moment or…?”

“I… uh…” You wanted to say yes. That you’d had a moment. A moment where you’d needed a good cry. There was no point in you rattling through what you’d seen twice since you would have to tell Raiden. Besides, it was easier to talk to Raiden about these things. Discussion with him over it was clinical. Discussion with Lao and Liu was emotional. You could explain your bruised palms and the crazy ink web you’d created later. Oh, and the demon that had tried to murder you again. Instead, you stuttered and betrayed yourself.

“You had a vision.” Liu knew too much. He was too intuitive. He had to be stopped. Kung Lao stepped next to Liu and folded his arms over his chest in judgment. They were both judging you for trying to hide the truth from them. You huffed in frustration. How could he read you so easily? How had he known? Why couldn’t you have just said it had been hormones or something?

“Look, I’m going to talk to Raiden and I figured that I’d just tell him when I’m there. Don’t make me tell this story twice, please.” You stubbornly walked toward them and they stepped out of your way on either side of you to allow you to pass. Kung Lao caught up to you and walked alongside you on your left. He leaned over just enough to talk to you covertly.

“Are you okay?”

“I just said I didn’t want to talk about it.” You swatted him away but he kept walking closely alongside you.

“What did you see?”

“Guys! Really! I’m obviously doing okay.” You gestured to Liu who had joined you on your right and he laughed in surprise. “Liu is a different color today! Can we talk about that instead?”

Liu Kang and Kung Lao exchanged a glance in front of you and then spoke in unison. “No.”

You sighed and continued walking through the finally familiar halls. “Well, that’s too bad. I told you already, I’m fine. The most important person to talk to about this vision is Raiden. I’m not wasting my breath by saying it twice because you two are nosy.”

“Wow.”

“That’s harsh,” Liu coughed, covering his mouth with his arm as they caught up to you again.

“She’s wasting her breath, Liu.”

“I know, Lao. Here we are, worried about her, and she’s wasting her breath if she tells us what happened.”

“I hate you both so much right now.”

“Wow!” Kung Lao threw his hands into the air in mock aghast.

“She hates us now.”

“All because we care.”

“Oh my god.” You laughed and then walked faster to get past them. Them teaming up on you was intimidating but also hilarious. You sure wished that Chen’s voice wasn’t rocketing around through your brain. Your face was hot and you tried to breathe through it. Kung Lao caught up to you again and slipped his arm around your shoulder to slow your walk.

“We’re just teasing, Y/N.”

“I know how much you hate us worrying but we do worry and I’m no sorry for that.” Liu caught up slower than Kung Lao had, prayer beads wrapped around his palm.

“Especially since your arcana does violent things when you have those visions.”

“And your palms are bruised.” Liu tapped your wrist and you pulled your hands close to your stomach to hide them from him. Kung Lao pulled his arm back from your shoulder and took one of your hands, turning it over so your palm was facing up. He clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“Lying. Hiding bruises. Maybe you were right, brother. She has been spending too much time with me.”

“Okay, okay boys.” You chuckled nervously and snuck away nervously from Kung Lao’s grasp. “You’ve made your point. Now hush, before I tell Raiden on both of you.”

“Tell on us? For what? You’re the one who lied.”

“Very poorly, I might add.” Kung Lao grinned. You were no longer worried if he was actually feeling better or not. It was clear he was feeling just fine.

“You would think that with all the time I’m spending with you that I would be a better liar.” You teased in return. You were glad that Liu was at least feeling well enough to joke even if you had to slow down for him. “Get it together, guys.” You scolded and then walked with them into Raiden’s chambers which had been left open in anticipation of your arrival.

You bowed before Raiden who joined you from a doorway on the left. The joking mood you’d had only seconds ago faded. Within the room were the two pedestals that you recognized from when you’d given Raiden the artifacts. Both were encased in glass. Raiden walked between the pedestals and gestured to either side of him. “They are not to be touched without my permission by any of you.”

That was an interesting way to start the conversation but you each nodded in understanding. You weren’t eager to touch them again but had a feeling you would have to. Raiden glared at Kung Lao as though that warning had been meant specifically for him. Kung Lao looked up and away, feigning innocence. Raiden then walked before you, hands clasped together behind his back.

“They have eluded my sight but I have divined that they were cursed many centuries ago and tainted by many hands. They have been locked.”

“What does that mean, Lord Raiden?” Liu stepped closer to the pedestals to get a closer look but was careful to keep his hands folded.

“It means that whoever hid these items did not wish for them to be found. More than that, they did not wish to risk their cleansing. Either these are incredibly powerful tools or conduits for something else.”

“Conduits?” Kung Lao frowned and as he stepped closer, Liu held his hand out to stop him as if to remind him not to touch.

“There are many possibilities but my magic hasn’t uncovered them. They are protected by something powerful.”

“An elder god?” Liu theorized.

“That’s one possibility.”

“What can we do?” You chimed in. It was all well and good to theorize what they were and why but what you could do was what mattered.

“Well, Y/N, you were the one who located these items with your sight. I have a feeling that the same creature who cast a shadow over you is one of the more potent hands cast upon these artifacts. It’s why you saw him.”

“And I have seen him now.” You confessed, turning your attention to the floor. “I saw him before but his face was a blur when I woke. But now? Now I’ve seen him.”

“When?” Raiden didn’t seem as alarmed as Liu Kang and Kung Lao were behind him. Merely curious.

“We fought a creature in the springs protecting the jade. I saw him in the water. I saw him clear as day. If you know an artist then I could probably describe him for a picture or something. Then this morning I saw him again.”

“This morning?” Raiden tilted his head curiously and you felt alarm radiating off of Liu Kang just like his fire.

“I couldn’t see his face this time. He stood beside my bed.” You knew it hadn’t been a nightmare but it hadn’t exactly been a vision either. “Both times he was trying to hurt me. I woke up and my room was filled with ink but it was… it was different.” You felt all eyes on you and you hated it. “It’s hard to describe. I’m sorry that I’m not better at this.” You bowed apologetically.

“You will get better with time. For now, I will read your vision as I had before with the protection of Liu Kang and Kung Lao. That will come later. Are you up for the task of trying to unlock these items, Y/N?”

“Me? Unlock them?”

“Yes. I think that your gift is connected to them. Perhaps your sight could be of some assistance in either unlocking them or for seeing a way to do so.”

“Yeah, I’ll try. Anything to help.” You bowed again and then walked between the pedestals nervously.

“Is this going to make me sick again?” Kung Lao sighed dramatically and Liu Kang shushed him.

“These are powerful and dangerous artifacts, Kung Lao. If I cannot solve this riddle then we will have to remove them from the temple. Or you will all be sick.” Raiden looked to him knowingly and Kung Lao bowed his head apologetically.

“I’m not ready to give up. Let me try.”

“Good.” Raiden walked past you and to the pedestals. With a brush of his hand against the tops of each protective container, the glass faded. You were momentarily stunned. His magic was wonderful and constantly took you by surprise. He gestured for you to join him and so you did.

“…what should I do?” You were lost. You had no idea where to begin. Even using your arcana was still nowhere near second nature to you. It was easier to do in the heat of battle or in the moment. This was premeditated and planned and more about your visions- something you had never mastered.

“Follow your gut.” Raiden instructed like that was something easy for you to do. “Touching them might help.” He stepped back to give you room.

You would try.

You touched the dotaku, fingers brushing along the ornamental designs. “Funny. It’s hot.” You admired the designs curiously. If it hadn’t been cursed then it would have been beautiful. The warmth of the bell wasn’t hot perse, but it wasn’t the natural temperature for a metallic object either. It wasn’t anything near even the inherent warmth of Liu Kang. More like a kettle that had been turned off a few moments before you’d entered the room. Raiden gestured to the jade and so you reached across the gap to touch the jade with your other hand.

It was like a hand brushed over your eyelids to close them. A hum resonated from the bell and through your body to the jade, using you to do so. You opened your eyes and when you did, the room was empty. All that remained were you and the artifacts.

You tried to snap your hands back but they were stuck fast to both items. The items wouldn’t budge from their places on the pedestals either. You tugged and pulled in a panic to try and get free your hands but it was no use. The items grew hotter and hotter beneath your touch, glowing with orange light and burning your palms.

“Let go!” You shouted in frustration, trying to tug your hands free. Then the horned man was in front of you. Skin gray and sick, eyes milky white and staring into yours. His mouth moved but not in time with the words that came out of him in a hiss.

“You will not see.” The eerie whisper traveled all around you and filled you with inescapable dread. Your legs were literally trembling beneath you. You would have crumpled in a heap had you not been trapped and stuck to the artifacts.

“Why?” You sounded rather brave for someone who had no leg to stand on. “What are you?” He tilted your chin toward him with his index finger, as if you were something too filthy for him to properly touch. His hands felt disgusting. Cold. Clammy. You shrunk away from his touch and he clutched your chin. Then his whole body was wrapped in shadow and his hand snapped to your throat so hard that you choked and were instantly without breath.

You tried to fight but there was nothing you could do and no escape. The squeezing on your neck was so intensely painful that you felt yourself fading and quickly at that. Then, for the first time, you watched as ink exploded from your hands, from your chest, spreading throughout the room, tearing through the shadow that held you prisoner.

You could breathe but your vision changed. Instead of Raiden’s chamber you saw smoke billowing from the windows of the temple, flames engulfing familiar halls. Rooms crumbled to pieces. Silhouettes of bodies laid still on the ground in the smoke, dark stains surrounding them. War was being waged on the temple! You tried to scream, to move, to help, but your hands were stuck fast. Clawed fingers ran over your arms and back to your neck, you felt each finger slowly wrap around your throat until you couldn’t breathe.

Your body was failing, limbs going numb, falling limp between the artifacts that held you prisoner. The hands grasped your face and obscured your sight and then suddenly your hands were free. The dotaku burned your hand as you let go and cracked with an ear-splitting shriek of grinding metal. As it had happened in your vision, ink exploded from within you and spread throughout the room, from wall to wall, floor to ceiling.

Liu ran to you and tried to pull you into his arms and you felt the hot spray of his blood splatter over your face and chest as the ink tore through his flesh. He fell away from you. You collapsed in a heap, unable to move, the ink taking every bit of your energy. Your body was prey to something far beyond your control. You couldn’t breathe and you tried to crawl away, to get to Liu Kang who was holding his bloodied arm. Skeletal creatures rose from the ink and a monster dripping with ink joined it. The ink had recreated the monsters you’d fought that protected the artifacts.

Kung Lao dodged them and tried to make his way through the ink web to get to you but it had crystallized and kept him at bay. He sliced through the webs with his hat, shouting words you couldn’t make out. He was making his way through but it would take too long to get to you or Liu.

“You have to breathe, Y/N!” Liu’s voice cut through the buzzing in your head but just barely. You tried to do as he asked but the more that you inhaled the more impossible it became to exhale and your lungs were so tight that you didn’t think you’d make it much longer. Ink was spreading further and further throughout the room. If you didn’t stop, you were going to kill them.

Suddenly you were burning all over as a jolt of electricity shot through you.

“Enough!” Raiden’s voice boomed like thunder and you collapsed in a heap on the floor. You gasped for breath, struggling, but at least you could get a little air. You couldn’t feel your fingers anymore and briefly the world had gone white. When your vision cleared the monsters were gone and the ink fell piece by piece before fading into dust. Your body was too frail to keep it up.

Liu rushed to your side and Kung Lao was only steps behind him. Raiden’s voice bellowed again. “Do not touch her!” You struggled to breathe, struggled to sit up, your body failing. No matter how you tried, simple things that you were used to doing just to exist weren’t working. There were spots in your vision and you tried to push yourself up to your knees but your arms were trembling. “What did you see?” You coughed and tried to speak through it but you tasted blood and collapsed back on your chest.

“She’s suffering!” Kung Lao started toward you again but lightning cracked in front of him to stop him.

“What did you see, Y/N?”

“A-a… a devil…” You managed to choke out. Pain radiated up your arm and through your shoulder, down into your chest. You grasped at the sleeve of your shirt and managed to find the strength to sit up just enough so you could pull the sleeve down. Your shoulder and chest were burning. You didn’t know what was there but you knew that something was there. It was tremendously painful.

“The bell.” Liu nodded to the crack in the bell. His arm was drenched in blood. You caught a glimpse of the bell and then looked to your shoulder where you could barely see the crack that spread from your shoulder and further beneath the lining of your shirt. You ran your fingers over it and pulled them back suddenly. Touching it sent fire through your body, agonizing shots of misery, like your bones were being burned from the inside out. Your breathing was labored again. “What does that mean? Raiden, what does that mean?”

“You are tied to these objects.” Raiden tilted his head in realization.

“What?” You had never seen Liu so mad. Kung Lao looked like it was taking every bit of his self-control not to say fuck it and run to you. “Why? And by who? How is this possible?”

“I only know the answer to one of those questions, Liu Kang. She just told us. A devil.” Raiden approached you then walked past you to the dotaku. You managed to lean up on your elbows while taking quick, shaky breaths but your whole body was rigid with pain. You could barely think, barely feel anything other than the white-hot agony spreading from your chest to your shoulder.

“Will she be okay?” Kung Lao was, again, restraining himself.

“I don’t know. I will try to repair the bell.” Raiden placed his hand so it was hovering only an inch above the metal. Lightning sparked in his hand and surrounded the metal of the bell, his eyes white and glowing. Then he pulled his hand back as if the bell had shocked him.

You pushed yourself onto your knees and stumbled to your feet. The blood rushed to your head and you nearly collapsed. Blood filled your mouth and you could feel it dripping from your nose. Liu Kang was at your side and helped you stay on your feet, his bloodied arm hanging uselessly at his other side. Kung Lao urged your other arm over his shoulder and helped keep you upright.

Liu Kang was glaring at Raiden furiously, as if he knew what would come next. You stumbled and Kung Lao wrapped his arm around your middle to help keep you upright. “You’ll be okay, Y/N,” he reassured quietly but you knew that none of you really understood what was going on.

“I must see what you saw.” Raiden stepped closer.

“She can barely stand, Raiden.” Liu seethed, his anger and frustration far quieter and much more frightening than Kung Lao’s outright fury.

“She needs rest first.”

“Time is of the essence.”

“No,” you choked, finally managing to find words. You grasped Liu’s hand that was too tight around you. “He’s right. He has to see.”

“Y/N, no, you’re too weak, what if he…” Kung Lao objected loudly. Before either of them could resist on your behalf, Raiden rested his hand on the top of your head.

Then there was pain.

Not even darkness.

Color swirling in your mind’s eye and the type of pain that you had only read of.

Then there was numbness, as if your mind had been removed from your body to spare you the pain.

Then there was nothing.

[tastyykpop]

𝐶𝑟𝑎𝑧𝑦 𝑖𝑛 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒-Part 2

Pairings: yandere mafia leader!baekhyun x reader

Genre: um...nothing happens tbh, maybe angst???

《previous next》

Warnings: yandere themes, dom!baek, readers a brat ish but that's cuz she hates him🙄✋, master kink, very slight hair pulling

Word count: 2.1k

Tag list: @totallynerdstuff @geniusloey @wooya1224 @lasagnaisjustspaghetticake @imlonelysometimeshappy @kawaiiayasan @buttercupbbh @blahblahblah-boo @you-n-me-e-e @bobohumyonlyboo @bbhmystar @byunscookie @placeboetkisi @grungebaek @suhappysuho pls tell me if you want to be tagged!!

This is very short, im aware, but its supposed to lead up to a longer chapter also, my friend wrote the last few paragraphs and I edited it, so give her credit 😌

⚠️ this is purely fictional and not how I imagine baekhyun to actually act. If you feel like you're in a situation like this please run and report it. I do not support this behavior.

It was starting to get on your nerves. All this staring you and Baekhyun were doing. If you so blinked, you felt like you would lose an imaginary game. Yet your eyes watered, screaming at you to give up because Baekhyun sure as hell wasn't going to look away anytime soon.

"For someone who hates me, you always seem to stare at me for no reason." He chuckles, keeping his eyes locked on the way yours stared daggers into his. "I dont blame you though. I know I'm a pretty sight."

"As if." You snort, "Pretty, but a terrible personality."

"Ill take the first as a compliment,"he smiles, "As for the other, how could you judge when you barely know my personality?" Baekhyun says.

"I know it enough. From last night to this morning, you're not a very friendly guy." You say, "But in a way you're probably right, I mean, maybe youre a nice kidnapper." You shrug, grinning at the way his eyebrow raised.

"I hate that label more than you think." Baekhyun shivers, "It makes me feel icky inside."

You roll your eyes the best you could without looking away, "You know, I figured out why you looked so familar."

"Oh really?"

"Mhm," you sipped the hopefully-not- drugged juice Baekhyun had given you earlier, "Youre that mafia leader everyone talks about. You've killed hundreds of men and you feel 'icky inside? Thats hard to believe."

Baekhyun finally averts his eyes with a greedy grin.

"Can't a man feel a little bad for what he's done, kitten? I've taken a pretty girl away from her family, shouldn't I feel bad?"

"What about the men you've killed? Shouldn't you feel bad about that? Oh wait, no you shouldn't because after so long it becomes a second nature. You do it without thinking." You snap causing Sehun, who stood just to the side of Baekhyun, to stare at you with wide eyes.

Baekhyun looks at you with full amusement, trying his best not to snap himself, "Its business." The subtleness of the sentence made you think maybe he was hiding something. A burden or a secret. Both even.

"Thats not business." You say, "I'm not the only one with a family, those people you killed do too. I despise people like you."

"Im sure you do." He says, "But its just the way it goes. I have my reasons."

"Reasons..." You scoff, "And what about me?" You begin to wonder, "Is this the way it goes? Or is it your own selfish nature thats keeping me here?"

"Youre asking a lot of questions, kitten. Kinda making me wish that drug lasted a day longer." Baekhyun mutters the last bit.

You avert your eyes, instead, staring directly into Sehuns who had to cover his mouth so he didn't laugh, "Answer my question." You looked back at Baekhyun, "Why am I here?"

The man seated in front of you rolled his eyes, "I dont need to answer your foolish questions." He begins, "You don't need to know."

You mumble, "Youre a bigger bitch than I thought."

Sehun finally laughs at your words, repeatedly apologizing to his leader as he's holding a chair to keep him from falling. "You have no idea."

"Sehun," Baekhyun growls, "Leave."

The man does as he's told, walking away as he's holding his stomach, still laughing away.

As for you and Baekhyun, you shrunk in you seat under his gaze, knowing he's going to do something you won't like.

"Come here." His voice was stern and you knew better to not do as he said right now. You ambled towards Baekhyun sheepishly, his piercing gaze was set on your nervous frame. "Sit." Baekhyun patted his lap, completely ignoring your shocked face. "Now."

You hesitated before cautiously sitting on his lap, Baehyun basically forcing you to straddle him only so he could talk to you face to face. You had to stop yourself from putting your head in the crook of his neck out of embarrassment, you wouldn't hear the end of it if you did.

"We need to lay out some rules." Baekhyun wraps an arm around your waist, getting dangerously close to your bottom. "I can't have you using that tone of mouth with me anymore."

"I dont think so," you disagree, "Just let me go and ill pretend like this never happened. It will save you the trouble of making useless rules."

A hand slid over the curve of your ass before he patted it gently, "Thats not how it works, kitten. I'm never letting you go until the day I die."

Your brows furrowed at his possessive tone, hoping that he wasn't being serious and only saying that to scare you.

Little did you know.

You know you needed to get out of here and fast. However, Baekhyun had this place guarded to the max. You've noted the cameras hidden in corners of the room or even in least suspected places like in clocks. Then there were his men that seemed to never sleep as this was their only job. Even if you did escape that, there's still a possibility that Baekhyun will find you again.

An escape plan is close to impossible.

"Kitten." You hummed though in deep concentration of planning your escape, "Y/n."

"Im listening, master." You joked, using the name in a teasing way only for Baekhyun to roll his eyes.

"If you're listening then repeat the two rules i just said." His fingers danced on your hips with a grin. He already knew you didn't know, but he liked seeing your face drop.

"We are not having rules. I refuse to even follow them."

Baekhyun poked his tongue against his cheek, "So you do like punishments then?" He mocked the frown on your face with a pout, "Thats cute. Maybe I should bend you over my knee."

You weren't even surprised anymore, getting used to the stupid shit that came out of his mouth. Still, there was a visible scowl of your face, annoyed and dissatisfied, "I hated it the first time, I will not let you touch me like that again."

"Mhm, that is if you follow the rules. You don't seem to be good at listening to me." The soft hands on your hips turned into something more sinister as his hold tightened. "The first rule i said was to call me master. I've let you go a few times when you called me by my name, but I won't again. Next rule is to stop calling me rude names."

"Calling you names is one of my personality traits."

Baekhyun chuckled dryly, "Dont test me."

You blatantly stuck your tongue out. Ignorance was your best friend ever since you've been kidnapped and brought to his mansion. Though this best friend could stab you in the front.

"Please end the rules at two, its a pain to hear more." You figured Baekhyun wouldn't be as pliant and let it stop here, but it didn't hurt to ask anyway.

"No. Next rule, stop swearing."

It was easy for him to say than for you to follow. But this shouldn't be a shock to you, its like Baekhyun wanted to see you bite your tongue as you held yourself back from cussing him out.

"Next one, dont attempt to run away from me. You won't get far and even if you do, ill find you and you'll regret ever doing that again." Just the tone of voice he used could scare you into submission and obey his orders. Obviously you had been thinking of an escape for a while now, and with Baekhyun making sure it was off your mind, maybe you just couldn't do it. Or maybe you could with some sort of help. Your phone- no. You remember him taking it earlier today and putting a bullet through the device. He wasn't playing any games with you but you were still thinking of ways to beat him.

"How could I escape if you've got this place guarded to the max? Its close to impossible unless I want to be ripped to shreds by a bunch of your men."

"Oh they're not going to hurt you." Baekhyun grinned like the devil making a deal with an innocent soul.

Foul play.

"Dare hurt me and ill end you." You say with full meaning to your words. The man before you just as serious.

You should've been careful enough to not cross the lines. It would've saved you the pain of having his fingers threaded into your hair, pulling hard enough to make you gasp and cry at the sharp pain.

"All bark and no bite," he laughed in your face, inching closer until you could feel his breath fanning your face, "You don't seem to realize the power i have over you, kitten. Watch your mouth."

Baekhyun pushed your face away as he let go of your hair, staring into the side of your face as you bit back the tears in your eyes.

Why were you about to cry? You couldnt tell if it was the vicious grip he had or the fact that you'd be stuck here longer than you thought. But in all honesty, it could've been both. You missed being home. You missed your parents. You missed your sister. You missed your boyfriend. What did you do in life for this mess to happen?

"We'll end it at that." Baekhyun brushed the hair out of your face as you sniffled back tears that would slip at any second. "I have some things to do so why don't you make yourself at home. I'll have Sehun keep an eye on you."

You instinctively got up once he pat your thigh. This would've been your chance to attempt an escape but with Sehun, you knew it wouldn't happen. He was too loyal to Baekhyun to let you run away.

Guess you'll just have to run when they least expect it.

You stay in the kitchen as Baekhyun walked out, thinking to yourself. In the moment, you didn't process what he had said just earlier. Does he really plan on keeping you here forever? You wouldn't put it past him, only caring about himself is all he's good at. Great, and you can't even be left alone to think about how to run because Sehun has to watch over you. Like you're going to do anything in the first place. Its still too early to make a move.

“What are you doing?" Sehun questions you as he walks into the kitchen. You were still standing there lost in thought, probably looking crazy. 

“Just getting some water...” You came up with an excuse, an obvious fake laugh erupting from your lips. After getting a glass of water you turned to Sehun. 

“Do you really have to watch over me? You know damn well I couldn't escape even if I wanted to." You snapped at Sehun who grinned at your words. 

“Oh trust me, I know you couldn't. But i can't disobey Baekhyun." 

You rolled your eyes and mumble, "Disobey Baekhyun my ass..." 

You walked back to your room with the glass of water in hand, Sehun not far behind. As you enter your room, you came up with an idea.

“Sehun, I want to get changed." You said in a monotonous voice. 

“Clothes are in the closet to your left” He said blankly as he turned to face the wall. 

“Yeah no. Get out." you glared at him.

“Fine.." Sehun sighed. “But you only have 5 minutes” You watched him leave, shutting the door behind him. You sat on the bed and sighed. You have to get out of here, but how? There's men surrounding this place from the inside out. There can't possibly be that many men though, there has to be some sort of flaw in that insane man's system. You plan on figuring that flaw out, so you can escape from this place and run far away. 

You quickly change into comfortable clothes and yell for Sehun to come back in. He makes his way to the small couch in the room, pulling out his phone to play a game. You watch him for a while before it dawns on you that Sehun could be useful for your escape. Since he had information about the mafia, you could ask him a simple question. 

“Sehun." You call out innocently as he hums in return. “Just how many men protect this place?" 

Sehun doesn't even bother to look up from his phone to answer you as he opens his mouth, “A couple hundred, plus a few men around through the city." He smirked, "It's impossible to go unseen if Baehyun wants you.” He knew what you were planning.

You sigh. It was only a small question that barely hinted to an escape. How is it possible that he caught on that quick?

“I know, I know.” You flopped down onto your new bed. Looks like Sehun is going to be no help, so it's all up to you. You were going to find a way out of this place no matter what.