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placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 5 months

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The Devil You Know (Part 1) - The First Sin

Pairing: Demon! Captain John Price x Reader

(No use of y/n)

Warnings: This series will contain scenes of a violent and sexual nature, I will be more specific as I write more parts.

Summary: Reader is a soldier hanging on to their last gasp of life, trying to summon a demon associated with soldiers and battlefields in order to aid them. Unluckily for you though, the demon isn't interested in a short term deal. He finds himself quite attached to you, and he doesn't want to let you go.

-🔥-

Disembodied hands shook wildly as they set about their terrible task. At least that’s how it seemed to you - appendages moving around a blurred screen, drawing dirtied red symbols with panicked uncertainty. You swiped another slick fingerful of your blood into the dusty concrete and clenched your aching teeth together, finishing off the last curve of the sigil with a snakish hiss.

“I call to you…with the blood of my battle wounds. Jo- Jotan, I will be your willing servant.”

You looked around, eyes darting wildly for movement or any sign that your ridiculous little saving grace had worked. Though nothing happened. You blinked feverishly, feeling your lip wobble at first and then your entire body shake as you absorbed the facts in front of you. You were actually going to die.

A cackle broke out into the room, competing with the baying gunshots outside to break the walls of the decaying shell of a building. It was you. You were finally losing your mind, absorbing the facts in front of you with detached horror.

Perhaps the ruins were an office before, but now it was the final resting place of a desperate lunatic who’d decided to decorate their sepulchre before laughing themselves into death’s arms. The cruelty of it burned in your throat and stang at your eyes, soon searing hot tears into the ruined flesh of your cheeks.

It was a foolish last ditch effort anyway, you mused, collapsing onto your back in the middle of the blood seal. A stupid myth you’d clung to in a final attempt to save your life, a ritual told to you by someone that was long dead themself. If they presumably hadn’t bothered to use it, then why would it do you any good?

“Oh dear…I’m not too late am I?” cooed a soft rumbling voice.

Your eyes opened wide, the owner of the call demanding to be seen. That murmur fizzled in your ears and vibrated in your blood, forcing your hands to scrabble at the ground and set you into a sitting position again.

When you finally rose, you were held in place by the stranger. His onyx black eyes pinned you into place, watching you twitching and panting like a caught mouse. Apparently you amused him with this. His lips pulled into a grin, revealing a row of white teeth that curved into points at the canines and outer incisors, it was the smile of a predator. As if he needed to advertise any more warning signs.

His body was big and broad, his chest a large plane of solid flesh dusted with soot and soft dark hair that matched his bristly beard and hickory hued hair. His large arms were decorated with similar etchings to the ones you’d messily painted, both of them circled in two iron bands at the bicep and forearms, they looked like they could crack teeth in a pinch. There were also a few bands on the thick dark tail that waved behind him too, a detail you only noticed as it seemed to lovingly caress the shadows around his legs.

It was what finally confirmed for you that this was him. The fabled demon of battlefields - Jotan.

“You came,” you whispered.

“You called,” he returned, tilting his head at you. “Surprised you managed to complete the circle. You’ve lost a lot of blood, Sergeant.”

“I…I have,” you replied, feeling another wave of nausea roll through you.

“And I suppose you want me to do something about that?” he said, mouth twisting into a wry half smile.

It was almost worse than when you’d seen his fanged teeth. He looked positively ready to devour you, his gleaming eyes fixed on you like a tiger. You were just waiting for him to pounce, breath catching in your dry throat as you anticipated the killing bite. Suddenly you’d forgotten that it was you that called the terrible entity here, that he was supposed to be serving you rather than terrifying you.

“C’mon now, Love. You clearly knew enough about the ritual to get me here…aren’t you going to follow through?” he prompted, leaning down to meet you at your level. “It’s rude to keep a demon waiting, you know.”

His arms folded over his dark trousers, crossing over each other at his lap as if he were asking you to do something so completely mundane. He tilted his head at you again, flicking his eyes up to the doorway on the other side of the room as it started to shudder and bang. Voices were worming their way through the debris, shouts blasting in through the cracks.

Bang, bang, bang.

You didn’t have much time. Not that your body would be able to hold on much longer anyway.

“I want you to- please…take me back to exfil. Get me the fuck out of here and safely back to base and I’ll do whatever you want,” you said, voice cracking as you made your plea. “Ask anything you want from me, Jotan. Just get me the fuck away from here.”

His eyes curved into shadowed moons, once again he beamed at you. It felt like the stifling room heated a few more degrees. To add insult to injury your lungs began to struggle, it felt like your body was in its last stages of failing.

You briefly wondered if all this just might be a delusion. Maybe your head was presenting you with him as a way to cope with being turned to pink mist by the men that still called from the door outside, as a way to forget about your torn up arms that’d been sliced open by the bombings, and the bullet hole that had been weeping silently in your leg.

Bang, bang, bang.

“I’ll tell you what…I’m feelin’ generous,” the demon murmured, reaching out and forcing your chin up with in his charred fingers. “I’ll take you back to base, just like you want. And now…I could ask for your soul in return, for you to be my eternal servant when you do meet your end, and I really could have you do anything for me. However I won’t do that. Instead, I want to lend you my power. Just for today. That is my only offer.”

You frowned, a million racing thoughts crashing through your mind all at the same time. You’d made peace with the fact he’d ask for something awful, known it even. This clearly had to be a trick. Nevertheless, your head throbbed perilously and the door and furniture you’d messily propped in front of it were going to give way.You didn't have much time.

Bang, bang, bang.

“What will I do with your power?” you asked desperately, looking from him and to the end of the room.

“Let me worry about that,” he chuckled. “I’ll guide you, Sergeant. All you have to do is agree…that or let them flood in and kill you.”

Bang, bang, bang.

He motioned to the thundering door and raised his brows at you. At that point his dark eyes were like vortexes, they dragged you into his orbit and had you falling under his spell. You knew logically that whatever was going to happen was going to change the course of your life forever - and not for the good. Even then, you couldn’t find the strength to deny him, couldn’t hold enough faith in a glorious next life to accept that you’d leave this one.

“Fine! I accept,” you said, eyes wet and heavy.

An animal growl rattled through your bones and shuddered throughout the skeleton remains of the office space. Your body flinched back, responding just as your instincts wanted, but the demon didn’t allow you to retreat. He was quick - arms lashing out and moving like a whip. He gripped your neck like a farmer does to his chickens come dinner time, and just when you were ready for the snap, your body jerked violently.

You forced yourself to your feet, no, you surged upwards like you were under possession. Your legs didn’t feel like they’d buckle anymore, they felt renewed. Your heartbeat was steady like a punctual train, and your breathing returned to normal, better than normal even. Everything in you felt like it was new, like someone had taken out your broken parts and given you an upgrade. You smiled, lips curling over your teeth unnaturally.

Wait- were those…fangs poking into your bottom lip?

Bang!

There was no time to wonder at the strange way your mouth felt. Your head jerked up and suddenly you were greeted with the second worst sight of the day. The enemy soldiers had you surrounded, they flooded into the room like a locust swarm and pointed their guns at you, faithfully looking toward their Captain for the authority to execute.

Normally you would’ve shuddered, or maybe even fallen to the floor, but you held fast. Your breathing remained calm, but your vision went dark. That’s not to say you passed out, but a thick hazy filter seemed to descend across your eyes. Then just when you were about to question it, your arms reached out as if you were being puppeteered and your entire body unwillingly shot forward.

There was no time to even think to connect your actions to the seemingly absent demon then. Instead you latched onto the soldier in front of you like a bear and sank your teeth into his neck. The man screamed, and yelped, and made all sorts of inhuman noises as he struggled to try and pull you off. Though there was no helping him. You continued to bite at his arteries and savage him until his screams were silent and overtaken by the men around him.

Gunshots rang out, but none pierced you. Men beat at your back and pulled at your arms, but you didn’t break your hold. Copper filled your mouth, but you didn’t spit. You smiled with glee and licked at your own salty tears, disengaging from your target only when you were ready.

Little did you know, this was only the beginning of the butchery.

-🔥-

“For fuck sake, get yersel’ to the sink ye riot!”

You jumped out of your thoughts and hazarded a quick look up to your worried manager, following that up by nodding silently and running off to the bathroom. Fuck. All that you could do was grimly stare down at the blood while it merged with the clean tap water and remind yourself that it was fine. You weren’t outside the wire anymore, you were just wait staff in a small restaurant, and you didn’t need to worry about bleeding out anymore because the biggest hazard you faced now was apparently picking up a dirty knife the wrong way.

“Fucking hell,” you chuckled, quietly facing yourself in the mirror and taking a pause from the gory scene below. “It’s just a tiny cut.”

For a second, so quick you only just registered it, black eyes flashed behind you. You jumped back and hyperventilated, doing everything you could to stop yourself from screaming. Though it couldn’t be helped. You forced your hands over your mouth and yelled a muffled cry into your palms instead and rode out your panicked heartbeats until you could be sure you wouldn’t collapse.

You did a double take, searching the mirror for those horrible eyes or any other signs of their proprietor. However, there was nothing else to see but a pathetic ex soldier, black tile and cheap imitation herringbone wood flooring. Suddenly you felt absolutely ridiculous.

You slipped your hands from your mouth and covered your eyes instead, rubbing at hideously embarrassing tears with anger. That stupid therapist you were going to was so wrong, you thought bitterly, you were never going to make progress. You constantly swore that you could see those demonic eyes wherever you went, and sometimes you even thought you saw him. Well not the demon exactly, but a man that so closely resembled him - just without the tail and black eyes.

It’d been a full year since you’d been honourably discharged from the military, and even in all that time, you still hadn’t healed. Sure, the cuts and bullet wounds had made miraculous progress and faded to tiny scars, but inside you may as well have been a shooting range dummy right at the end of target practice. While your superiors had seen fit to dedicate you with a medal for the miraculous fight you put up against the enemy, your head still hadn’t gotten to grips with just how you did it.

Multiple therapists had put it down to repressed memory. They told you that whatever had really happened must’ve been replaced with that accursed demon summoning ritual that you dreamed up in an adrenaline filled haze. They said you might remember it all eventually once you’d healed more, or even that you might never get the answers you sought. There was no footage from your vest cam, and no other eyewitnesses left alive to say what had happened. Just you and your janky, wacky memories.

“Hey, Riot! You gonna come back on shift anytime soon or do I have to explain to Marco why the big bad ex-soldier is dying over a little cut?”

You turned to the door and smiled to yourself, feeling your chest grow lighter the second you heard that voice. Emily always knew how to pull you out of a funk. With that in mind, you shook your head, felt your goosebumps retreat away and stepped out into the scorching warmth of the restaurant. Once more back into the fray.

“The big bad ex-soldier had a lot of blood coming out that little cut,” you shrugged, “can’t be creating a healthcode violation, you know that.”

Emily raised one of her thick dark eyebrows in question and put her hands on her hips. Oh no, this was the serious stance. In fairness, the tables were mobbed that night and she’d been run off her feet by two difficult tables that were ‘not getting acceptable service by any definition of the word’ as one of them had apparently said.

“Put a blue plaster on it and get back out here before I give you a real war wound,” she growled.

Your eyes widened, but you still smiled despite yourself.

“You’re the boss!”

You rushed off to do as she said, ready to come back out and assist her, and if necessary neutralise any threat to her sanity. Emily was one of the few people you’d reconnected with after coming back home, and anyone that messed with her henceforth, was now messing with you.

She’d seen you out and about at the park one day, taking one of your ‘haunted walks’ as she called them - only because you had trouble sleeping and would walk around in a black hoodie with the hood up. It was like something clicked, after being so reluctant to share anything with your family, or military buddies that tried to reach out, it was like you’d found your key. You’d babbled to her about how badly you were struggling to adjust to civilian life, leaking your frustrations like a bled radiator, and she accepted you. She listened without pity.

Now while you wound a plaster round your silly little cut, you watched her zoom round the tables with true gratitude. She was the only reason you’d gotten the job, and been able to integrate back into real life. As much as you had your moments of frustrations, and had brief run ins with your PTSD, you at least had something to distract yourself with. Something that grabbed your attention and set your breathing straight again, when before you would curl in the corner of your room and scream for many minutes at a time.

Once the plaster was affixed, you fiddled with the cracked old first aid box and wrangled it shut, stowing it back into place with a thud before rushing back out to the floor. The smell of garlic and pasta filled your senses, and the voices of the patrons roared rapturously in your ears again. The normal hustle and bustle of the place set you back into your rhythm and the ramped up tempo sent you hurtling toward the kitchen.

“Where’ve you fucking been?” one of the chefs groused, “we’ve got a million plates for table ten here that need serving! I can hear them bitching from here, get moving!”

“Had a little accident getting the plates to Frankie,” you said, motioning to the plaster and your fraught KP behind the pass. “Good to go now!”

Rather than stay to hear the chef's curses, you rushed off with the plates and delivered them to the table, plastering on a smile as the customers moaned up a storm to your face. After offering them your apologies and promises of free sides, they hushed up and all was good again. You tended to your other tables and resumed duty as normal, rotating around Emily and the other waiter, Michael, like little clockwork toys. You all ticked along perfectly, leaving full stomachs and mostly happy faces in your wake.

“Can you take this to table thirteen, please? I gotta piss like crazy!”Micheal ordered.

He handed you a steak that was positively dripping in blood, almost setting you off again were it not for the fact that you were so confused by his request. There’s potatoes and salad and sauce on that plate, you thought to yourself, its not a body, just a hunk of meat.

“There isn’t a table thir-” you started, soon trailing off.

Michael had long since dashed off before you could correct him and you sighed to yourself. Great, now who on earth could this be for? You knew every table in the restaurant of course, your knowledge on the place was near perfect with Emily acting like a drill sergeant during your probation stages. However, you didn’t know where thirteen could be, because it didn’t exist. Most people knew that restaurants skipped that number because it was unlucky. Apparently not Michael though.

“I believe that’s for me,” called a rumbling voice.

You frowned and looked down to the man before you, startling as you realised that a table had been placed where it shouldn’t have, and in turn you were standing right over a poor customer. No wonder Michael had made the mistake, you had no idea where the table had even come from. Though you were too embarrassed to worry very much about that in the moment, you needed to recover in front of the man before you made an idiot out of yourself.

“Apologies, sir,” you said with a nervous laugh. “It’s been a busy night. Can I get you anything else?”

You placed down the food in front of him and were glad for it after you’d made eye contact. There was something strange about the man that made you jump. His stunning blue eyes captured your gaze and made you feel like you were in the middle of a laser sight. You gulped and looked away for a second afterward, trying your best to compose yourself.

“Thank you,” the man said softly, still fixing his eyes on you. “This is perfect.”

His sly grin struck you as familiar, but when you studied the man more, you couldn’t place him. He had a dark peacoat draped over his chair and wore a black shirt and fitted jeans. His beard was trim and cut close to his jawline, and his hair was near perfect, combed back neatly over his head. Everything about him was perfectly ordinary, perhaps would’ve been completely innocuous if not for his eyes.

You could’ve sworn there was a little black band circling the pupil, but just as you thought you’d lost yourself in them he chuckled at you. Causing your face to flame up in burning shame.

“I’m so sorry for staring,” you apologised, holding your hands up in appeasement. “I don’t know what that was about, sorry. You just seemed familiar for a sec.”

“Oh really?” he laughed, “Don’t happen to know a Jonathan Price do you?”

“Jonathan Price?” you repeated questioningly.

“My name, sweetheart,” he grinned, showing off his pointy canines. “Though you can just call me John if you like.”

“Oh my god, my brain’s going tonight,” you laughed, trying to get yourself away from him and the bloody steak that seemed to ooze with every passing second. “I’ll stop bothering you now, Jonathan! Enjoy your steak.”

His name sat heavy on your tongue, as if a fizzy sweetie had stung at the nerves and left it swollen and red. Jonathan. There was something about it that didn’t fit right. An unnatural force wanted you to turn round and call him a liar, demand that he reveal himself for who he really was.

Though you didn’t put much credence in unnatural forces anymore. Not when unnatural forces tended to be symptoms of your mental illness. Instead you shook your head and kept working, making a note to yourself that you needed to get more sleep that night. Sleep and meds usually helped, and you were praying that they’d set you right again the next day.

#Demon!Price #captain john price #captain price x reader #mw2 #call of duty

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hobisfavoritespritecan · 2 months

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Hello!!! Can you please write a Seo Moonjo fic, where he becomes possessive/obsessed with Jongwoo's gf or with a female who works with him?

Overcompensate

Absolutely lovely! Here's a bit of a drabble for you!

Pairing: Seo Moon-Jo X Reader

Warnings: mentions of gore & possessiveness, Moon-Jo shows very yandere tendencies, cannibalism allegories

Moon-jo was a simple man.

Not necessarily in theory, but in practice. He knew what it was he aspired to obtain in his lifetime and with the amount of work and dedication he put into those aspirations, it makes sense that he would achieve them. Simple.

But as to what he wanted and the lengths he would go to, stopping at nothing...that was a little more complicated.

To his surprise, he had found himself in a situation where the goal wasn't in relation to dentistry or murder. He was having a bit of an issue sorting out just exactly why the new tenant of Eden Residence was so captivating, so enthralling to him. What was it about the boy who lived next door that led Moon-Jo to believing that his existence was some sort of spiritual awakening he would have to come to discover? Why was he suddenly so fascinated in the idea of pulling back his brain and picking out all of his thoughts, consuming them in their entirety until there was nothing left of poor Jongwoo but a vessel of the human being he once was? It was Kafka-esque, a metamorphosis of his character; to watch him succumb to the ravaging animalistic qualities that Moon-Jo believed all humans to possess. It was strange and it was beautiful.

And oh, was it something Moon-Jo wanted.

So he put in the work. Day after day he spent trying to get under Jongwoo's flesh, tearing open another layer piece by piece to truly understand his newfound obsession. But with every step closer to his goal he got, the more confused he became. There was nothing he was learning that he had hoped for. Jongwoo was buckling under the weight of his neighbor's madness, yes. But he wasn't the right image of Moon-Jo's work. This frustrated him to no end.

He still remembers when everything finally clicked into place. The night had just fallen and the stars crept up in the sky, illuminating the long path to the Residence. Although the lights were dim, one could still make out the small cats darting back and forth as they played with one another in the underbrush. The air was crisp and still with no wind, a perfect temperature to end an outrageously hot summer day. Moon-Jo awaited on the rooftop with two beers, as he usually did, watching the path below for his Jongwoo to arrive back home with his furrowed expression of displeasure and overly large backpack slung over his shoulders from an excruciatingly long day at the office. He would be lucky to convince Jongwoo up to the roof where he sat and even luckier if he could manage to get him to drink his beer. He knew Jongwoo was onto him and his...stranger tendencies, but he would receive the fruits of his labor. He always did.

The beer can was cold under his grasp, the condensation slipping from his fingertips and falling beneath him as the drops pattered onto the cracked concrete. He was starting to grow slightly warm, however, he wasn't sure if it was because of the weather or the growing anticipation he felt as he awaited the boy's arrival. His eyes didn't leave the road once.

As he looked beneath him towards the winding street, he finally saw his neighbor trudging up the path, same expression on his face Moon-Jo had expected him to be wearing. But, to his surprise, walking beside the man he'd so desperately tried his best to court 24/7 was quite possibly the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in his life.

It shocked him-almost-his hand immediately dropping the beer he was holding as he lost his composure for the first time in many years. It was sudden, as though he'd been impaled by sword, piercing through his lungs and stopping his breath as his heart skipped a beat. He had never been so hungry, so devout for human meat. He didn't want to cannibalize you, no. But he so desperately wanted to consume you and your being which is almost the same thing...right? He knew what Jongwoo had meant to him now, it was almost so clear in the way it presented itself; Jongwoo was never meant to be the product of his manipulation. It had always had to have been you.

Your eyes looked up towards Eden, missing the strange man on the roof entirely. Moon-Jo found himself entranced by them, watching the way they shone under the stars and the soft light from the windows of the Residence. They were like Bosch's paintings of the divine, absolutely encapsulating the beauty of the gods. Your hair fell slightly past your shoulders and framed a face he could only assume belonged to heavens itself. Your body swayed with the movement of your feet as you followed your boyfriend's suit, duffel bag in hand.

Moon-Jo thought he had died and been met with the face of a deity.

On your end, the only thing you were thinking about was Jongwoo's warnings from earlier. Once he had moved to Seoul and started living in this dingy place, he had instantly been met with strange roommates whom he'd talk about often. You were worried about his dwindling sleep schedule and his overall safety, residing in a place like this on the outskirts of town. If something terrible were to happen here, you weren't even sure police would show up in this precinct. For Jongwoo's sake, however, you swallowed down your nervousness preparing to have that conversation with him later.

Collecting himself, Moon-Jo practically sprinted towards the stairs and made his way down to Mrs. Eom's desk, leaning against the dilapidated building's walls, forcing himself to contain the sparks flying through his veins. He had to keep himself together, make the most impeccable first impression and swoon you over, whoever you might be. He needed you to like him, to trust him. If he ruined his image right off the bat by voicing his true inner monologue, it would be so much harder to mold you to his image and sway you into his grasp.

"Jongwoo, are you sure this is something you want to do? We could always sleep at my place if you're as uncomfortable by this place as you say." You said, closing the heavy door behind you and setting down your duffel bag for a moment to regain your breath.

Jongwoo shrugged and picked up your things containing all your overnight clothes and whatever else you'd brought to work that day. He had just simple given you a "yeah, this is fine" before turning around to be met face-to-face with the one person he didn't want to see or have the imposition of introducing to his girlfriend at all. He had hoped he might be able to sneak you past and into his room before anyone even noticed he was there; as he usually did. He'd presumed Moon-Jo to be on the roof for his nightly drink, whenever he stayed at the residence and not in his own apartment.

Beside the wall-almost eerily so-Moon-Jo stood, ignoring Jongwoo completely. His eyes were trained on you as you gathered yourself enough to take him in, watching the man before you breathe in the very fiber of your being. He was tall and dark haired with extraordinary cheekbones. With a face card like that, you were sure he'd have had to be a model or do side-gigs of the sort. His smile was a pleasant one as it seemed inviting, but upon staring at it for a few moments, something about it felt off to you. His black button-up was loose around his collarbones and neatly tucked into his slacks. He was fairly handsome, you thought, forgetting that Jongwoo had warned you of this 'crazy neighbor' before inviting you to stay at his place to catch the train back home tomorrow.

A piercing feeling of nervousness took over your body and shocked you instantly. There was something extremely peculiar about this man and you wanted nothing to do with finding out what it was. There was something haunting about the depth of his cold, dark gaze, contrasting Jongwoo's warm and inviting one. You swore to yourself in that moment not to walk anywhere on these premises without Jongwoo for fear of running into this man alone.

However uncomfortable you may have felt, Moon-Jo was in love, if that's what you would call it. He wanted this-you, so intensely and so immediately that his entire body felt as though it were shaking with tremors. He would stop at absolutely nothing to have you, to own you. You were what he had been unknowingly waiting for his entire existence and Jongwoo had only been the key. Smiling, he shook his hand out towards yours, ignoring the complaints from your boyfriend from beside you.

"My name is Seo Moon-Jo. The pleasure is all mine."

"(Y/N)." You replied.

#fanfiction #strangers from hell #hobisfavoritespritecan #lee dong wook #fanfic writing #seo moon jo x reader #seo moonjo #jongwoo x reader #moonjo x jongwoo #strangers from hell x reader #all of us strangers #reader insert

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quack-quack-snacks · 5 months

Text

Star Crossed - Chapter 4

❤️Happy Holidays all! Hope you all had a wonderful time and if you didn’t I hope sincerely that it gets better for you!❤️

The Star Crossed Masterlist

My All Of Us Are Dead Masterlist

My Navigation and Masterlist

Warnings: Normal AOUAD things, Word Count: 7,717

“Gyeong-su…” You heard Cheong-san say from behind you but it was like you were hearing it from underwater. The only thing you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat.

And the thoughts that Gyeong-su might not have one soon.

As Gyeong-su wiped his nose to find it bleeding, he brought his hands up to see black and purpled prominent veins growing from underneath the cuff of his undershirt and he looked at them in shock, shaking his head and mumbling indistinctly.

He stood up and breathed shakily as he tried to speak while his chair skid across the flooring. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong with me? Something’s wrong!”

You stood up from your chair and stood in front of him. You grabbed his hands and he looked you in the eyes. You nearly started sobbing on the spot as you saw the whites of his eyes turning red but swallowed down the lump in your throat before smiling at him.

“Y-yo…” you tried the first time but couldn’t get the words out so you cleared your throat and tried again. “You just need a t-tissue. It’ll be okay.”

He nodded as tears filled his eyes. The both of you knew you were lying but it was okay to be delusional sometimes… right?

He’d be okay… right?

If you just kept repeating that then he would be okay.

Everything was fine.

Gyeong-su was fine.

You were fine.

Right?

You frowned as you heard the scurrying of footsteps behind you while you reached into your pocket to grab one of the crumpled tissues you had from earlier and gave it to him but he couldn’t seem to grab it and it dropped to the floor.

“It’s not true…” You heard Cheong-san say from behind you yet you kept all of your focus on the boy who was in front of you.

“Come on. Get rid of him. Get rid of him now!” You heard Na-yeon scream and just as you were about to yell at her to shut up you felt someone grab you by the hand and pull you away from the boy.

“No, no…!” You tried to complain and weakly pulled against the hands restraining you, already knowing who it was. “Su-hyeok, he’s not. Gyeong-su’s not! I was with him for half an hour, he’s not!” You tried your best to convince him and looked up at him just to see him trying to keep a straight face while tears filled his eyes. “No!”

“Gyeong-su, stay where you are!” You heard On-jo say from behind you which brought your attention back to the group as Gyeong-su had rushed forward but everyone stepped back into a corner to try and avoid him like the plague. “Stay back!”

“I swear, I’m fucking not!” Gyeong-su begged and your heart broke at hearing the confidence in his words faltering.

“I’m sorry, Gyeong-su. Please, stay back.”

You watched as the remaining bit of hope in Gyeong-su’s eyes vanished like a flame being doused by water. “I’ve turned, right?” He asked, his voice quivering. “Cheong-san, what do I do?” He begged for guidance that none of you could provide, especially not Cheong-san who was dealing with the fact that his lifelong best friend was about to die at the hands of a virus that turned the kindest of souls into a flesh eating monster.

“No, no. This doesn’t make any sense. Why would you…” He started, just as confused and in denial as you were when On-jo came up from behind him and tried to pull him away.

“Cheong-san…!” She begged but he just yanked his hand back.

“Let go!” His voice broke as he was finally coming to terms with what was written in blood red ink in front of him. “This cannot be true. Why would you suddenly…?” He shook his head, false certainty refilling his voice as he stepped towards his friend. “No, no. Gyeong-su you weren’t-”

“Step away. Don’t come any closer!” Gyeong-su yelled as he ran backwards in an attempt to put distance between his friend and himself. You stopped struggling against Su-hyeok’s hold a while ago and just let him hug you to his chest while you watched in shock.

“B-but, you were fine. Gyeong-su, you were fine!” You tried to convince him and yourself when suddenly his neck cracked to the side.

Na-yeon looked around frantically as everyone stood there in shock as their friend turned right before their eyes. “Hey! What are you doing?” She sputtered out. “We need to kick him out! We’re all gonna die!” She screamed and you suddenly found the voice you’d lost before.

“Shut up! He-” your voice dropped from its screaming tone to one barely above being completely silent. “He just needs a tissue.”

“W-what’s happening…? Fuck!” You could hear Gyeong-su desperately get out as he gripped his head like it was pounding.

Na-yeon ran over to the door and yanked the umbrella away that was blocking it from being opened. “Get out. I said, get out!”

“Shut the fuck up!” He screamed before discovering a newfound determination within himself. “I’ll leave by myself! I’ll leave. I’ll go on my own!” He started sobbing. “Why would I bite you? We’re supposed to be fucking friends. If I… If I leave, it will be better for everyone.”

Every step he took towards the door you could feel more of your hope for him to be okay being lost.

“Gyeong-su,” Ms. Park spoke up and you looked over to see she had walked forward to the front of the group to speak to him directly. “Why don’t you just go into the recording room until we can figure out-”

Na-yeon interrupted her before she could finish. “If he stays in here he’s going to kill us all!”

“Na-yeon!” Your teacher screamed at her.

“I’m just trying to stay alive,” she whimpered out.

“I’ll leave. I’ll get out of here on my own,” Gyeong-su grunted out while breathing heavily and staggering towards the door, using the table and chair on his way to support him. He turned to look at everyone around him but his gaze stopped on your shocked one for a moment. “Don’t worry,” he started sobbing more and your vision started to get blurry with unshed tears. “I’ll get out of here.”

“Gyeong-su!” Cheong-san begged as his own eyes filled with tears that had yet to stain his cheeks. His lips quivered as he tried to remain strong in front of the group.

“It’s okay. Thank you for everything. Stay alive.��

Right as he tried to open the door to leave, he turned around and started looking at all of you in terror while thrashing around and mumbling things under his breath before his body contorted in strange directions, his bones creaking and breaking until he stood up and let out an unnatural roar and growled at all of you. Dae-su started walking towards him and both you and Su-hyeok tried to grab his arm to pull him back, knowing your friend was gone, until he shook you off and rushed forward when Gyeong-su’s empty shell of a body charged at the group standing by the speakers. He threw him against the table in an attempt to save himself as well as his classmates. Just as the monster who you briefly viewed as your friend was about to attack again, the sound of a familiar tune filled the air.

While everyone was focused on the fight, Cheong-san had managed to raise himself onto the window and grabbed a hold of the rope, hanging off the side of the building with only that to support him. He sang their tune, the tune of Auld Lang Syne, and the body of his old friend came rushing toward him before Cheong-san jumped out of the way just in time.

The group had sat in shock for a while until some started to cry. Cheong-san had gone into the recording room and threw the table to the ground in a fit of emotional turmoil. On-jo had walked up to the door for a moment before deciding to walk back and to just give him space.

A gut feeling told you space was the last thing he needed right now.

You walked away from the spot you had been leaning against the wall with Su-hyeok. You had been comforting him on the loss of his friend as you knew he was grieving right now and didn’t want to focus on your own pain. He and Dae-su had hugged and were currently exchanging tissues.

That was what you had learned to do the best. Block out the pain. Be the emotionless girl everyone knew and few loved.

You walked over to the recording studio’s door before taking a deep breath and walking in. You took slow steps as you entered and saw Cheong-san sitting right underneath the large window on the wall of the door. He’d been crying until you walked in, that much was clear by his red eyes, glistening cheeks, and sniffles. He’d wiped them away and turned to look in the other direction of you. You walked over to him and sat next to him against the wall. You both sat in silence for a few moments before he spoke.

“I’m fine, if that’s why you’re here. You can leave now,” he spoke rather harshly but this time it didn’t affect you as you knew he was on stage 2 of grief.

Anger.

“Go,” he told you, his voice breaking at the end and he pointed towards the door where you came from but you just looked at his hand before looking up to him.

You sighed and felt your nose and eyes stinging but pushed it down.

“You don’t have to be strong with me, you know?” He was taken aback by your words and looked visibly confused. You sighed before looking down at your fingers where they were playing with the hem of your vest. “I know none of you like me, and most of you think I’m like my brother,” you took a deep breath before you built the courage to look back into his eyes which looked even more astonished than before. “But in the short amount of time that I spent with Gyeong-su in this recording studio,” you gestured to the mess in front of you as you looked at the book and string Gyeong-su had been playing with before everything went down, now places in the corner of the room. “I’d like to believe I was able to call him my friend, and I’d like to be able to call you one too,” you looked back up at him once again to see tears had once again gathered along his waterline and he was looking at you with his lips quivering as he still tried to hold back his emotions. “So I’ll say it again,” you grabbed his hand from where it was resting on his knee and gave it a friendly and comforting squeeze. “You don’t have to be strong with me, Cheong-san.”

There were a few moments where the two of you sat there and stared into each other’s eyes before a teardrop streaked down his cheek. Another followed after that one, and then another, and then another, until he had started sobbing and you brought him into a hug while hiding your own tears which slipped onto his shirt. You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t even try to think of something to say in a situation as bizarre as this one. You just held him in his time of grief.

After a few minutes when Cheong-san had calmed down, he wiped his eyes with his sleeve and pulled away from you. Standing up, he lowered a hand down to you so he could help you up and you gave him a small smile as you accepted it.

The two of you walked out and Cheong-san gave you a smile before walking over to lean against the window, looking out onto the field. This time you let him be alone as you walked over to sit down next to Su-hyeok who was on the ground. You mirrored his position with your legs bent and your arms resting on your knees. Your shoulders were grazing ever so slightly and he leaned over to bump into your shoulder ever so gently. You looked over to him and he smiled at you. You couldn’t handle the softness in his gaze so you blushed and looked away, knocking your own shoulder into his as he laughed lightly.

“That asshole,” you heard Dae-su sob after a little while when the grieving atmosphere set in again. “Gyeong-su, why did you have to turn?”

Na-yeon opened her mouth and you just knew what she was going to say next would piss you off. “I told you all. He was infected.”

“Well, are you happy now?” Dae-su said as he looked at her in despair, you quickly stood up and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. He looked back at you and had a bit of a shocked look which you internally rolled your eyes at but stopped when he put one of his hands on top of the one you had resting on his shoulder. You smiled softly but it fell immediately when Na-yeon started talking again.

“You were all wrong. Only I was right. What would you even do without me?” Your head snapped over to her.

“Na-yeon. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut up and let us mourn the loss of our friend. Don’t be heartless on top of being a bitch,” you told her and just as you looked back at Dae-su, you saw her roll her eyes and scoff.

Just as you were about to talk again, Nam-ra started speaking. “Hey,” she paused and you looked over at her. “Maybe you did it.”

“What?” Na-yeon questioned her in an annoyed tone.

Nam-ra grabbed everyone’s attention as she walked over until she was standing right in front of Na-yeon’s sitting form.

“I saw everything… Na-yeon,” Nam-ra told her, accusing her of something that had yet to be revealed.

Na-yeon stood up to be face to face with the class president. “What? What did you see?” She asked and seemed to get on the defensive quickly which had suspicion rising in your gut.

“You are the one who did it,” Nam-ra revealed, yet everyone was still confused.

“Who did what? I didn’t do anything to Gyeong-su,” she defended.

“I didn’t say anything about Gyeong-su,” Nam-ra told her, which kind of confused you.

It’s kind of inferred because we were talking about his death less than a minute ago, but okay.

“Knock it off!” Na-yeon told her, raising her voice a little.

“What are you talking about?” Wu-jin asked as Su-hyeok and Cheong-san - who were both minding their business - turned to look at the scene.

“I didn’t do anything,” Na-yeon insisted.

“While we were all watching Gyeong-su, you were in the back alone,” your friend explained, then turned and pointed at the broken mop that laid against one of the cabinets in the room. “You wiped that blood with your handkerchief.”

She hesitated before replying in a shaky and slightly fearful voice. “No, I didn’t.”

“You wiped that on the scratch on Gyeong-su’s hand.”

At Nam-ra’s explanation, everyone had a shocked look on their faces, unable to comprehend that their classmate was the cause of their friend’s death. Even you had nothing to say and your hand went limp on Dae-su’s shoulder, only being held there by his own, which tightened on yours.

“I did not,” Na-yeon tried again to defend herself but it was getting less and less convincing as Nam-ra was insistent on proving her to be the murderer of Gyeong-su. The innocent boy who was everything good yet died for nothing.

“It’s in your pocket,” the other girl voiced.

“So what?”

“Take it out.”

“No.”

“If you’re so innocent you’d take it out and show us,” you sneered at her and your hand closed into a fist while tightly gripping the fabric of Dae-su’s vest.

“I said no,” she insisted while looking at you and slapping away Nam-ra’s extended hand. You glared and she visibly shrunk in on herself.

“Should I take it out?” Nam-ra paused for a split second before reaching for Na-yeon’s pocket until the girl pushed her hand away and slapped her face, most likely a lot softer than she intended to.

“Fuck you! Who the hell do you think you are? Huh? Class president?” She mocked before Nam-ra sent a hard slap across her face and her head snapped to the side.

“You never treated me like president.”

Despite the situation at hand, you smirked slightly as you saw your best friend standing up for herself and just being a complete badass. You let go of Dae-su’s shoulder and went to lean against the table beside where he sat.

“Nam-ra, that’s enough!” Ms. Park exclaimed as she sped-walked up to the two girls to break up the argument. She looked back and forth across the floor as she tried to figure out what to say before continuing. “Nam-ra, do you realize what you’re saying right now? If that is true, it means Na-yeon killed Gyeong-su.”

“It’s true. Na-yeon did it,” the girl confirmed. You looked over at Cheong-san as he watched. His eyes were filled with so many conflicting emotions: anger, sadness, betrayal, remorse. “She killed him.”

Na-yeon scoffed and rolled her eyes before she reached her hand into her pocket. “You fucking cunt,” she exclaimed angrily before throwing the handkerchief in Nam-ra’s face. Dae-su had to grab ahold of your sleeve to keep you from rushing forward. “There. Happy?”

Nam-ra, who seemed unaffected by Na-yeon’s treatment, reached down to pick up the cloth from the floor and inspect it. “This is blood.”

“I wiped Gyeong-su’s hand,” she claimed and you scowled as you could see the cloth.

“This is his blood?”

“You can’t tell?”

“If it was his fucking blood there wouldn’t be that much of it, you cunt. He’d stopped bleeding 10 minutes into staying in the studio room,” you told her and her eyes flashed with fear but her expression remained the same.

“Then put it on your wound,” Nam-ra told her in an attempt to show either her innocence or her guiltiness. “Wipe yourself with it if you’re so confident.”

You could see her searching for an answer. “Like his blood is so clean? He was a zombie.”

Nam-ra threw the cloth to the floor and stepped closer to her offensively. “He was just fine until you infected him with your handkerchief.”

“Na-yeon… you-” Cheong-san started and started marching towards Na-yeon until Su-hyeok held him back.

“Damn it! It wasn’t me!” She screamed while crouching down and picking up the handkerchief, hovering it above her wound as she looked around for someone to tell her to stop, that they believed her, anything for her to not do it.

Ms. Park, ever the mediator, ran up to her and grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand and the handkerchief away from her scrape, trying to pull it from her hands but Na-yeon resisted. “Don’t do it. Stop it.”

“Let go,” she whimpered as the teacher tried to yank it from her hands.

“I said to stop it. Give it to me.”

“Leave me alone! Fuck!” Na-yeon screamed while breathing heavily. She let go of the handkerchief and stood up with teary eyes. She looked across the room at everyone, “I should just die too then, huh? That’s what you want, isn’t it?” Nobody answered and so she sighed, looking away before turning back. “Why is Gyeong-su better than me? That dirty welfie pushed me,” she whimpered.

“You little cheat!” You yelled at her while trying to rush forward but Dae-su was still holding onto your sleeve. Su-hyeok abandoned his spot as the one to hold back Cheong-san to wrap his arms around you, restricting any movement of your arms while you struggled and kicked your feet.

“Na-yeon,” Park said after a while of silence, “You didn’t…”

“So you did do it,” Cheong-san spoke, devastated, until he raised his voice to yell at her. Dae-su rushed forward to hold him back. “How could you fucking-”

“I didn’t kill him, okay?” She insisted and you could hear your heart pounding in your ears with rage. Rage and loss. “Gyeong-su fell, but he got up and ran. He’s still alive. He didn’t die, he just turned.”

“You mother fucker! They’re the exact same fucking thing!” You yelled out at the same time On-jo spoke.

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“Stop ganging up on me!” She whined and threw her hands around like a toddler having a tantrum. “When I said he smelled, you all laughed. You all made fun of him too. Don’t try to act all innocent now.”

You thrashed around harder as you felt your eyes burning and your cheeks wet and you finally realized you were crying.

It had been a while since you’d done that.

Dae-su lost his grip on Cheong-san and he ran towards Na-yeon, Su-hyeok unable to stop him because of you in his arms already.

The boy pushed the girl to the ground and breathed heavily. “How could you kill him?” He screamed while Ms. Park told him to stop it. Na-yeon kept her head down.

“You’re… a murderer.”

Her head lifted and you saw tears falling down her face but you had no sympathy at all.

“I have no friends at all,” she whimpered out.

“I wondering fucking why,” you growled.

“I don’t need any of you. Fuck you,” she then stood up and shakily walked out of the room, Wu-jin rushing after her just as the door closed and Ms. Park moved to stop him.

“Listen,” she started and you were finally released from Su-hyeok’s grip after you stopped struggling. “No matter what happens, you stay alive. Also, you must never take a life. If you cause someone else to die, life becomes meaningless.”

She looked at you all with a remorseful and fond gaze and you were sure you knew what she was about to do. “All right?”

“Ms. Park?” You whispered shakily and she looked at you with a small smile before turning and running out the room, rushing after Na-yeon.

“Ms. Park! Wait!” Dae-su yelled and ran towards the door and Wu-jin held him back to the best of his ability.

“Dae-su, don’t go!” he begged.

You had never felt so helpless. Your feet seemed to be glued to the floor and your eyes stuck to the door where she had stood only moments ago.

Dae-su started sobbing into Wu-jin’s shoulder and your heart broke for him.

“Fuck!” You heard Cheong-san scream followed by the banging of his fist against a computer. You didn’t have the energy to stop him, even though you knew if he did it too much he could seriously injure his hand.

You were sitting in the corner next to Su-hyeok who had an arm wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest as you were too much in shock to cry; again. You saw On-jo walk up to Cheong-san as he was staring out the window but you couldn’t hear their hushed whispers.

“I feel like it’s my fault,” you said suddenly, only a breath above a whisper. Su-hyeok looked down at you in surprise and confusion.

“What’s your fault?”

“Gyeong-su.”

He sat up from his leaning position against the wall, bringing you with him, and looked you in the eyes. “How is it your fault? You didn’t do anything!” He tried to convince you, still whispering so the others wouldn’t butt their way into your business .

You let out a sad laugh as you felt your nose burning. “Exactly. I didn’t fucking do anything,” you wiped your nose slightly with the back of your hand to subside the sting. “I didn’t notice what she was doing. If I only noticed and was a little more attentive then Gyeong-su would be alive! It’s my fau-”

“No,” Su-hyeok insisted as he brought your head back into his chest to keep the guilty thoughts at bay. His heartbeat worked just enough for your soul to take a breath. “No, (Y/n). It’s not your fault. How could you have possibly known what she was going to do. You didn’t need to be attentive at that moment because it was someone who was supposed to be loyal to the group and not fucking kill someone. That is not your fault. Thinking like that will just drive you insane.”

At his words, a small sob escaped your lips and your body started to shake with your silent tears as he trailed his hand up and down your back. His lips were pressed against the crown of your head as he whispered the reassurances that you were needing.

After you calmed down and wiped away the tears on your face with your sleeve, you sat up and gave Su-hyeok a grateful smile.

“Thank you,” you breathed.

“You don’t need to thank me.”

It was then you noticed how close the two of you were, faces only inches apart and you could see his eyes travel from your own down to your lips a few times. You backed away with your cheeks flushed and gave him a small smile. He seemed delighted with the effect he had on you and that made your cheeks burn even hotter.

“I’m going to go sit by Nam-ra, I haven’t really spoken to her much in the past day,” you told him, avoiding eye contact as you stood up.

“Okay,” he smiled and got up himself before winking at you and walking over to lean against the counter where Wu-jin was sitting. You took a breath to cool your cheeks and calm your nerves before going over to sit next to Nam-ra.

“Hey there, prez,” you greeted and she met you with a cheeky grin.

She nudged you in the side. “Hey there, lovergirl. How’s it like in paradise, hm?” She teased in a whispered voice and you covered your face with your hands.

“Stop that, we’re just friends!” You whined softly and she giggled for a moment until her face slowly fell back into a frown.

You didn’t want to ask if she was okay because you knew the answer would be no. Nobody was okay right now, Nam-ra wasn’t any different. Instead, you just grabbed her hand and held it in your own affectionately while she leaned her head on your shoulder.

You stayed like that for a while until Cheong-san spoke up and broke the silence. “I didn’t hear anything at all. I just couldn’t hear anything.”

“Like what?” Su-hyeok asked but Cheong-san didn’t lift his gaze from where he stared at the floor.

“I mean after Na-yeon went out and then Ms. Park went after her. I didn’t hear anything after that.”

“You mean, screaming?” Su-hyeok asked and Cheong-san finally looked up at his friend to confirm.

“Yeah.”

“Maybe they didn’t die, then. They wouldn’t have been quiet if zombies were biting them,” Dae-su spoke his thoughts. “They must be alive.”

You let out a hum of acknowledgment while everyone else stayed silent and he huffed in annoyance, feeling left out. “Why won’t you respond? No one answers me. I’m always talking to myself,” he looked down and played with his tie. You couldn’t help feeling bad even though you were the only one to acknowledge his thoughts, albeit with only a hum.

Just as you were about to say something, On-jo beat you to the punch. “I think you’re right.”

“Forget it,” Dae-su waved her off with an eye roll but she continued.

“I didn’t hear anything either.”

“Me neither,” Hyo-ryung threw in her own thoughts. “ I was scared because I didn’t know how I’d feel if I heard them screaming, but I didn’t hear anything.”

“Come to think of it, neither did I,” Joon-yeong added.

“Then I’m right. They’re alive, right?” Dae-su asked and Joon-yeong nodded in confirmation.

“Should she be alive?” Ji-min asked angrily and you turned slightly to look at her, Nam-ra still resting her head on your shoulder, unmoving.

“What do you mean?” Joon-yeong asked.

“She’s a murderer. She killed Gyeong-su and walked out of here on her own. Is it even right for her to be alive?” She asked angrily, using rage as a coping mechanism for everything that was happening. “Aren’t you all being fake?”

“What about Ms. Park? Should she have died too?” Wu-jin questioned and Ji-min was quick to reply.

“Is that our fault?”

“Either way, we’re responsible for what happened,” he argued.

“Why is that? What did we do wrong?” She asked and you turned back to looking at your hands which were interlocked with Nam-ra’s, unable to look at the emotion in Ji-min’s eyes anymore. “Na-yeon killed someone, then played the victim, and chose to leave on her own. All because we didn’t listen to her,” She defended her own argument and Wu-jin remained silent. “If no one’s on your side, is it okay to kill?” Everyone stayed silent as they churned her question over in their brains. “Ms. Park acted like we were wrong. We didn’t tell Na-yeon to go out there. We didn’t tell Ms. Park to go out there, either. Why should we feel bad? What the hell did we do wrong?” Hyo-ryung leaned over to hug Ji-min and comfort her but the hand she placed on her shoulder was shoved off.

You noticed On-jo looking down at the table and a teardrop falling down her cheek and you reached over to grab onto her hand with your free one, squeezing gently. Surprisingly, she didn’t look shocked by your movements or the fact that you would do something like this, she just gave you a watery smile and sniffed before slightly wiping her nose on the sleeve of her slightly bloodied jacket.

Speaking of jackets, you realized you still didn’t have your own after using it to cover up Hyeon-ju when she came into the classroom. Although it wasn’t cold right now, you were sure it would be later, especially with the broken-open window.

“Hey,” Su-hyeok spoke up and interrupted everyone’s thoughts. “I feel weird saying this, but-”

He was interrupted when Wu-jin smacked his stomach. “Don’t say it.”

Su-hyeok groaned and took a strange moment of silence before continuing with what he was going to say. “Does anyone else have to go to the bathroom by any chance?” Nobody responded. “Am I the only one?”

Dae-su raised his hand slightly. “I do.”

“We have to go, too, actually. But we can’t go out,” Hyo-ryung spoke on behalf of her and Ji-min.

“I also have to go,” you added in and everyone’s head snapped towards you, making you shrink back in on yourself and press your cheek against the crown of Nam-ra’s head in embarrassment.

Joon-yeong sighed before pressing his forehead against the table.

“I’ve had to poop for a while,” Dae-su spoke up again and you held back the smile that threatened to take over your face.

“Dude… that’s… ew,” Wu-jin told him as he threw a pencil at him which was placed near his sitting spot.

“Why are you blaming me for this? Su-hyeok’s the one who brought it up. Poopings not a crime.”

“It’s not a crime, but-” Wu-jin told him with an amused face.

“But what? Don’t you need to go?”

“Yes, I do. Not poop, but, you know…” He informed.

“What about you?” Dae-su asked Cheong-san as he pointed at him, pleading for anyone to be on his side.

“I don’t… Pooping? No.”

He turned to Hyo-ryung. “Don’t you need to go?”

“Why are you asking me?” She whined.

“Why are you getting annoyed?” He shot back.

“What do you want from us? We can’t go out, anyways.”

Dae-su sighed deeply before his eyes caught on yours and he shot up straight. “(Y/n)!”

You smiled, amused, and Dae-su looked ecstatic at your expression. “Yes, Dae-su?”

“Do you need to go? Do you need to poop?” He asked, practically begging you to agree.

Your head tilted a bit as you looked up while thinking. “Yes,” you finally replied.

His hands shot up in victory. “Really?”

“No,” you laughed and he deflated like a balloon back into his seat with a playful glare. “I do have to go though.”

He sighed out again before he looked at the window. “I have an idea.”

You sighed and slapped your forehead, knowing exactly where he was going with this and not liking it one bit.

Dae-su walked up to the window, leaning against it slightly. “First, the girls and the guys will take turns.”

“Where?” Hyo-ryung asked, not understanding the context clues or deliberately being ignorant in hopes of him choosing a different answer.

He looked at her before gesturing to the window in front of him. “Here.”

She scoffed. “You’re crazy.”

“Stop it, man,” Cheong-san said and rolled his eyes at Dae-su’s strange suggestion.

“Why?” The boy asked with a slight whine. “The girls can wait in the other room, and the guys can just pee out the window.”

“What about… poop?” Wu-jin and you groaned out while shrinking in on yourself as you were sure you knew exactly what his idea would be.

He pointed at Wu-jin before looking back at the window. “Poop. Well…” He was silent for a moment as he thought before he slapped the frame in realization. “You can take your pants off and hang out the window,” he explained and climbed up the window so his butt was hanging off on one side while he held onto the window frame. “Like this.”

You couldn’t help yourself from snorting at his demonstration. “Outside!” He went on as you hid your smiling face underneath the collar of your green sweater. He stepped down from the window. “Like you’re taking a dump off of a cliff,” he then squatted down before continuing. “Like this.”

“What reaction is he hoping for?” You heard Wu-jin whisper before you spoke yourself.

“You seem to know a lot about this, Dae-su,” you teased. “I’m guessing you’ve had a lot of experience with pooping off of cliffs.”

He looked at you with an unamused look and you couldn’t help yourself from bursting out into laughter that everyone else joined in on as Dae-su rolled his eyes in annoyance. Nam-ra lifted her head from your shoulder and hid her smile behind her hand.

“I’m being serious!” He exclaimed over the laughter.

“Stop being ridiculous,” Hyo-ryung told him with an eyeroll after she calmed down.

“But someone has to hold you, so you don’t fall!” He quickly added when he saw a break in the giggles.

“How are you going to wipe your butt?” Joon-yeong asked him.

“Well, someone else should.”

“What is he saying?” Hyo-ryung facepalmed.

“Idiot.”

“Let’s just hold it,” Ju-min told everyone. “If the rescuers come-”

“It’ll take a while for them to get here,” On-jo looked at her as she interrupted her before looking down at her hands woefully. “It may be the same outside of the school.”

Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. The joking and laughter filled atmosphere was replaced with the sullen one as everyone thought of the situation they were still in.

“I don’t know how long we’ll be stuck here, but my dad always told me to separate the bathroom from where you sleep if you find yourself stranded,” On-jo continued, sounding like she had an idea.

“What do you suggest?” You implored.

“We create a makeshift bathroom for the time being,” she said confidently.

“Where will we create a bathroom and how?” Ji-min inquired, confused.

“Right there,” On-jo pointed to the recording booth and everyone turned to look.

“That’s smart, if we do some things to make it more private it could be the perfect place to make one. Good thinking,” you praised her and she blushed slightly as she looked back down to her hands while a small smile graced her features. You stood up with a slight hop before turning to On-jo and clapping your hands together. “Okay, boss lady! First order of motion?”

She tried to hide her smile but failed as a small laugh escaped her. She stood up herself and turned to look at the group of girls. “Nam-ra and you guys, try to look for something to cover the window.”

They nodded before scattering across the room to find things they could use.

“Cheong-san and Joon-yeong,” both boys turned to her at their names being called. “Make something that can absorb urine and feces to use as a toilet,” they nodded and got to work. “And then the rest of you…” she paused, knowing they needed something else but not sure what it was.

“A screen?” You suggested and she snapped in your direction in appreciation.

“Yes! A screen.”

“A screen?” Wu-jin asked to confirm in slight confusion and On-jo nodded.

“Yes, a screen to block.”

Wu-jin, Su-hyeok, and you walked into the recording booth and looked around. The both of them seemed stuck on what to use but you saw something immediately.

You walked over to where a few filing cabinets were and started moving one of them so it was positioned parallel to the wall with the window. Going over to start moving the second one, Su-hyeok realized you had been doing the work while they were just watching. He slapped Wu-jin’s chest before jogging over to you with a smile.

“How about you two move that one,” you pointed over to another filing cabinet on the other side of the room. “And I’ll move this one so they can be ‘walls’ on each side of that one,” you then pointed to the previous filing cabinet you had moved which was across from the window.

Su-hyeok frowned before moving over to where you were and going on the other side of the filing cabinet you were about to move. You reached over to smack the back of his head. “I don’t need help, idiot. Go help Wu-jin,” you pointed to where Wu-jin was struggling to move the filing cabinet on his own despite trying to seem like he wasn’t. Su-hyeok turned and rubbed his head where you smacked him before you could see the smile and blush that blessed his cheeks. He mentally slapped himself.

All she did was slap me on the head and call me an idiot, why the fuck am I smiling?

You laughed as you watched him walk away and he blushed harder at the sound of it.

Oh… that’s why.

After moving the two filing cabinets, you moving yours comically faster than the two boys did and rolling your eyes before helping them, you walked out of the room to see Dae-su laying his head down on the table. Cheong-san and Joon-yeong were almost done with what you assumed was the makeshift bathroom.

You walked over to them and rested a hand on Joon-yeong’s shoulder as you leaned over to look at the basket. “Is this the homemade toilet?”

Joon-yeong jumped at first before relaxing. “Yeah, we’re trying to figure something out for where to sit, though. With just this, everyone would probably just have to hover above it.”

You nodded and looked around for a second before something caught your eye and both of them lit up. You practically skipped over to the seat next to Dae-su and grabbed his neck pillow from where it was resting and walked back over to the two boys.

“Put this on top, I think this might be the best option we’ll have,” you suggested and placed the pillow on top of the rags in the basket.

“Dae-su's got a big butt, so let's…” he said as he opened up the button that held the two ends of the pillow together and spread it a bit.

“Perfect!” you smiled and opened the recording booth’s door for the two of them as they brought the basket inside. Walking over to where Nam-ra, On-jo, and the rest of them had set up a little circle of chairs, you sat in the one next to where Nam-ra was standing just as everyone was rushed out of the room by Su-hyeok who slammed the door harder than he probably intended to. You laughed.

“Do you want to sit down? I can pull up another chair,” you suggested to your best friend but she just politely shook her head with a smile. You held your hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, if you say so.”

After a little while, it was your turn and you used it quickly before grabbing a hand sanitizer bottle from one of the cabinets and pumping a little into your hand.

“Oh, thank god!” You heard and turned around to see On-jo, followed by Hyo-ryung, beside you. “I was worried about that. Even if we’re in a zombie apocalypse, I don’t really want to go to the bathroom and not wash my hands,” the bob hair cutted girl said in relief before holding her hand out. You put some in her hand and then some in On-jo’s as well and both grinned at you gratefully.

The bottle got passed around as everyone took a little and then started chatting.

“At least there are cops and soldiers out there, right?” Hyo-ryung questioned hopefully.

“But if you watch the movies, they can’t do anything either, right?” Wu-jin answered with his own question.

“I’m hoping that this situation will be different from the movies, that this thing will have a cure and everyone outside of the school is doing just fine,” you muttered with slight optimism. Hyo-ryung smiled at you and grabbed your hand.

“Exactly, and they always save everyone in the end.”

The door slammed shut and you noticed Joon-yeong, who had been standing outside of the door, waiting for his turn, had gone inside and Dae-su was standing on the other side with the tissue box you all had designated at the toilet paper in his hand.

Everyone’s face had turned sour as the smell of the recording booth flooded out with the small time the door was open.

“Shit!” Su-hyeok exclaimed as you all plugged your nose or wafted away the stench with your hand. “Why don’t you just stay inside?”

“Does it smell?” Dae-su asked cluelessly.

The door to the studio opened again before slamming as Joon-yeong came running out. “S-shit.”

“What?” Dae-su asked again as Joon-yeong ran towards the window to get some fresh air. “Stop being so dramatic. It doesn't smell at all.

“Oh, it does more than just smell. I’m pretty sure the zombies will bust down the door just because of that,” you joked and grabbed a piece of paper from behind you to use as a fan and blow away the air.

“Sit somewhere else,” Hyo-ryung demanded as Dae-su sat in the seat next to her but he just ignored her and she rolled her eyes.

You looked up at Nam-ra and saw that she was just staring off blankly out the window. “What’s up? What are you looking at?” You asked her.

She took a breath and hesitated before speaking her mind. “There’s nobody there. There are no lights on in the stores and apartments out there. They all ran away.”

“Or died…” You added depressingly.

“What do you mean by that?” On-jo quizzed.

“No one’s coming here to save us,” Name-ra stated.

“Why do you have to be so pessimistic?” Joon-yeong asked as he shifted uncomfortably under the change of tone in the air.

“Don’t you know my mom?” She shifted so she was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest. “She would’ve torn the school apart looking for me, but she isn’t here yet.”

“So, what do you wanna do?” Ji-min asked in a bitter voice and Nam-ra turned to look at her, annoyed.

When you realized she wasn’t going to reply, you replied on her behalf. “I think she’s just trying to point out the facts, even if they are depressing,” you looked up at Nam-ra to see if your assumption was correct and she nodded.

Ji-min turned to face you. “We all know that no one’s coming. So I think we should just figure out what we’re gonna do next.

“We have to wait to be rescued,” On-jo vocalized. You all looked to her and you especially knew that she might have the best knowledge of what to do in a situation like this considering she had some information passed down to her from her dad. “We can’t leave somewhere safe to go somewhere dangerous.”

“But from the place where we are right now, we’re not exactly in a visible spot for someone to see and rescue us from,” you told her, knowing that even if rescuers showed up to save people, they would most likely go to the roof first before anywhere else if at all.

“And what if nobody comes?” Nam-ra added on and you nodded.

“We haven't been waiting that long yet,” the girl insisted as she stared up at her.

“How long do you think we have to wait? Do you think we should wait until we die?” Nam-ra asked in a slightly snarky tone which you winced at but didn’t make any move to interfere.

“No,” On-jo clarified. “I’m saying let’s wait as long as we can.”

“But when will we know when we can’t?” You asked and On-jo just looked at you, her mouth opening and closing a few times before she looked down at her lap.

“I don’t know… but there’s no way we can go out right now, anyway.”

“It’s probably because it’s nighttime. I’m sure somebody will come in the morning, maybe. There are a lot of choppers flying around,” Su-hyeok pointed out and everyone looked out the window to inspect the sky for a second before leaning back. He let out a sigh. “Let’s just wait until tomorrow, and we’ll see.”

Everyone nodded in agreement when Joon-yeong took in a deep breath and ran back into the recording studio while plugging his nose which you and Hyo-ryung slightly giggled at. Su-hyeok looked down with a smile at the sound but you didn’t notice it from how you leaned forward to talk to Hyo-ryung. You also didn’t notice the questioning looks that On-jo passed back and forth between you and Su-hyeok.

~~~

~~~

Taglist!

@multifandom-lover01

@justmare

Lmk if you want to be added or removed!

#lee cheong san #lee su hyeok #aouad su hyeok #su hyeok x y/n #su hyeok x reader #suhyeok x reader #su hyeok #onjo #on jo #nam ra #gyeong su #cheong san #all of us are dead #aouad #gwi nam #gwi nam aouad #dae su

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terpsichorestyx · 9 months

Note

hiiii!! i was wondering if u could do a aouad Su-hyeok fic where him and the reader we’re together in the broadcasting room with everyone else but she ended up getting lost when they were going to save Cheong-San? Maybe she re-finds them after the group got to the roof ?

(established relationship if that’s okay 🤗)

i really hope that makes sense (_T_)

sorry it took so long 😭 su-hyeok x f!reader

murder, zombies, blood (everything in aouad basically)

(on-Jo likes cheongsan, Nam-ra doesn’t like anyone. Also the whole rooftop thing with eun-Ji doesn’t happen at the same time. she’s already a halfbie and her friend is at the safety camp already.)

Not proofread and it’s not very good 💀👍

————-

You both were together when it happened. Su-Hyeok had bought you flowers out of the blue, and you were laughing together outside. He had put a baby pink flower in your hair, stuffing the rest in the dark blue bag that hung on your shoulders. He was just leaning in for a kiss when you both heard a bloodcurdling scream, and saw a horde of students running in one direction infront of you. Looking to see what they were running away from, you saw a group of bloody students stumbling behind the rest. An unfortunate girl had tripped and fell, and you both watched as the group fell on top of her while ripping flesh from her skin with their teeth. You looked at Su-Hyeok in fear, and he got up holding your hand and ran through the halls, following the other students.

You both ran until you found a safe classroom and locked yourselves inside.

Gyeong-Su, Cheongsan, On-Jo, Na-Yeon, Dae-Su, Nam-Ra and Hyeon-Ju were already inside.

Since then, you all stuck together. Bad things happened, like Hyeon-Ju getting infected, zombies breaking in, and more, but you all stuck together and fought no matter how much you were hurting. Eventually, you had found a way to the broadcasting room. The water-pipe hung from the window and everybody took their turns going down. You volunteered to go last, after Su-Hyeok.

In the broadcasting room, Na-Yeon and Gyeong-Su had began arguing. Su-hyeok and Cheongsan went to make them stop, so they didn’t notice. If they did, you would’ve been with them right now. You weren’t blaming them, if anything, you blamed yourself. You had slipped. You slipped off the pipe, and luckily grabbed onto a ledge a few floors down just in time. Too scared to call for help in case you attracted the zombies, you went inside the class hoping to find the others soon later.

Su-Hyeok realised soon enough, and he was frantic. He tried climbing up the pipe to get you, but in your place were a bunch of zombies. He wanted to leave, to find you, to save you and bring you back to safety, but nobody let him. He still had hope you were alive. You were strong, he knew that. Despite the growing feeling of despair each hour he wasn’t with you, he held onto that string of hope.

You, on the other hand, were fighting. Running from class to class, hitting zombies with anything and everything you could find. You took a break in the music room, trying to stock up on food and water. Opening your bag and looking at the flowers for a second, before gently placing the food inside to not ruin the flowers. “He’ll be okay. He’s with everyone else, and he’s going to be safe.” You thought.

Your break was interrupted by a lone zombie running to the music room. Dropping your bag, you pushed a piano onto it before grabbing a bottle of water and running. You ran to the roof. Luckily, the door was unlocked and you could find refuge there.

You saw helicopters near the school before, you knew more would come soon after, so you waited.

Meanwhile, Su-Hyeok was with everyone else. They had used a drone to locate Cheongsan, but couldn’t find a trace of you. They had made their way to the music room and sat there for a while before exploring the music room for useful things. They couldn’t open the supply room door, but they saw a zombie stuck under a piano.

“Hey, What’s this?” Dae-Su said as he picked up a dark blue bag. Su-hyeok didn’t pay attention. He was caught up in his thoughts. “Is she okay? It’s almost been two days.” He thought. Dae-Su opened the bag and said “Hey! There’s food here!” Which caught Su-Hyeok’s attention. They group had been starving for hours. They all scrambled to Dae-Su to take some food. Su-Hyeok went last, but just as he was about to pick up a Soda can he saw a familiar bouquet of flowers. Wilting baby pink flowers were placed beside the food, just barely out of sight. He grabbed the bag and looked around it, finding a name tag with your name on it.

He froze. He couldn’t think of anything, nothing registered in his mind. Your bag was in the music room, bloody. You were in the music room. You left your bag here, with food and water. By choice? No. Something must have happened. The small string of hope he was holding onto was gone.

Everybody came around to gather, and they all saw your bag. Though they tried to comfort Su-Hyeok, they were all thinking the same thing. You were bitten.

After that, nothing mattered. su-hyeok felt dissociated. He was fighting, but for what?

They made a plan to go to the roof, so that the helicopters notice and save them. So they did. They fought and fought until they made it to the roof, and started banging on the doors to get in.

You were skeptical at first, but you heard Cheongsans voice. You ran to the door and pulled it open.

Everyone fled inside and closed the door behind them, and then you saw him.

He spotted you and his eyes widened in relief. He ran to you and pulled you into the tightest hug, never wanting to let you go. “I thought you were dead” said su-hyeok, holding back tears.

You didn’t say anything, you just held him closer. Sure, you would have to keep fighting, and it won’t be easy, but you were together. All of it was okay if you were together, and he wasn’t going to let you go ever again.

#all of us are dead x reader #aouad x reader #su hyeok x reader #aouad #aouad imagines

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dontlikeconflict · 2 months

Text

“I’m the one who will have to watch you murder the world”

It’s so quiet, it’s always quiet now. The town surrounding Castiel was filled with vacant buildings, abandoned homes, and so many items scattered showing the hasty way that the people had to flee (if they were lucky enough to get away). Cas missed when there was noise everywhere, when there were cars, and children playing, when he could walk in a crowd and not be seen as the angel of death. The one who tells them to flee, the one who stands in wait.

It had become like a sick game over the years. Dean moved, ravaging everything in sight, and Cas did all he could to stay one step ahead. To herd people away, to warn them that he was coming. And then he does what he’s doing now, he waits for Dean. Tries to plan what he could possibly say or do. There have been times when it felt like he was close, when he got through to him even for a moment, but those moments always passed. Most recently when they had fought, there was a moment when he held Dean firm, angled towards the body of a woman that he had effortlessly cut away from this world, and made him look. Forced his eyes to her blonde hair, and her pale skin, and spoke in his ear of those he loved who could have easily been this woman: Jo, Mary, Jessica. Cas spoke their names like a prayer, hoping they would embed themselves deep in Dean’s skin, deeper than the mark could reach. Hoping the blood seeping into this dead girl's hair wasn't for nothing.

But it was.

The number of dead only continued to rise, and the shining light of Dean Winchester's soul only continued to darken. And all Cas could do was try, do as he had always done and follow Dean, to the very end.

“Just you and me again Cas?” Dean didn't try to hide, or sneak as he approached, they both knew Cas couldn't kill him (he had tried before) “Where's the rest of the party?”

“Dean.” Despite himself, he felt warm. Every time he got to set eyes on his friend without fresh blood on his hands, felt like a blessing. With everyone they had loved long gone, all they had was each other, for better or for worse.

“Still doing this cat and mouse bit? I move and you scurry?” his face was blank, no smile, no frown; like he was a god - or devil - forced to speak to an ant.

Some part of Cas could never stop seeing his Dean, troubled since he was a child but still always the brightest light in any room, at least to Cas. His soul was so full of love, the prime motivator for all his actions, leading him to pain over and over again. Cas could still see that soul, twisted and deformed by the mark, like thick scars, covering almost every surface. But still, there was always the memory of fresh skin, of the very thing that willed the wounds to heal. That was what was left of Dean’s once bright soul, scar tissue, desperately trying to recreate what was there before.

“What if I said no?” it was said before he had a chance to pull it back. A thought that had lingered in his mind for so long, one so tempting. No matter what he did, The Mark continued to push, murdering everything it could, consuming infinitely. Nothing could stop it, Castiel could not stop it. Effort, hope, love, none of these things could defeat The Mark. None of these things could bring Dean back from the hell he had created. And Cas knew even if the mark disappeared, the selfless man he knew, the righteous man, would never be able to deal with what he had done, how many he had taken from this world, the cries and begs that he met with the horrible wet thud of the first blade as it sunk into flesh, not sharp enough to fully slice, but not blunt enough to just bruise.

Dean didn't respond to the vague statement, just stared at Cas, just as angry and hollow as that day all those years ago, when the angel had warned him of this very moment. The horror that Dean had forced him to watch. Looking into those eyes, Cas knew it was time.

“We’ve been through much together, you and I” It was hard not to tear up as he tried to think of all the things he wanted to say “It may be selfish of me but I do not regret saving you”

Dean still stared, his eyes still cold. Cas thought maybe that was for the best.

“Knowing you has changed me, I am the person I am, because of you”

Cas allowed his blade to fall from his sleeve into his hand, Dean’s eyes fall on it, before looking back to his face.

“And even though you are no longer the Dean Winchester I once knew, I still consider you my family. The only family I have left, as I know I am yours”

Cas stepped forward, slowly, blade in hand until the two were less than a meter apart.

“You saved the world many times over Dean, maybe it is fitting that you are the one to end it. Maybe since you saved me, it too is fitting…”

Cas flips the blade, holding the handle out to Dean

“That you end me too.”

They look at each other for an age, Cas’ eyes tearful, Deans hollow. A million lifetimes worth of connection between them, whether it is wanted or not.

It's slow as Dean’s hands reach up to take the blade, not a mad rush of bloodlust, but the natural conclusion to their story. An ending that was always there on the horizon, inevitable and all-encompassing. Castiel always knew he would die for Dean Winchester.

When the blade sinks into his heart, he knows it is final, God has abandoned them and there is no one to bring him back. Dean's hands come up to lower his dying body to the ground, but his eyes are still dark. All scar tissue, nothing left.

AO3

#castiel #cas and dean #dean winchester #dean x castiel #deancas #deancas fic #mark of cain #mark of cain dean #spnfandom #spn fanfic #destiel fic #destiel

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feyofmay · 10 months

Text

Girls are Never Civil

Laurie x March!Reader x Jo (platonic) Summary: When a Laurie & Jo are walking home, they spot Jo's younger sister on the ground (reader/Ducky). Jo attempts to help her sister, but it does not go as planned. word count: 2.5k Warnings: Fluffffffffff, all platonic, laurie gets kicked in the no no square, reader gets called "Ducky"

This story is a snippet from my longer Laurie x reader romance story, so please let me know if you want more!! its already at 20k wordsssss :)

STORY STARTS UNDER THE PAGE BREAK

This is part of a larger story I'm writing called "What Women are For", which is Laurie x Reader (romantic). Let me know if you're interested in reading it!

Tightly curled up into a knot, in the middle of the dirt road, a trembling wad of buttercup yellow fabric shakes and wails into the torn flesh of her fist. Sympathising with the lump of stains, tears, and snot, the trees hang still in a moment of tender silence. The middle March sister has stopped trying to breathe through her sobs, as the dust from the path had raced up her nose and left a shocking pain. It’s as if someone shoved stinging nettle straight up her nostrils and pushed until the tip of the branch tickled her brain.

A hot red bite mark appears as if it’d been welted to the plush skin of her hand. She swears she’s bitten straight to the bone. Still, the tears continue to cascade down her blubbery cheeks as they slip their way into the wound. Overwhelmed with pulsing, hot pain, she can’t tell if the injury, itself, or the salt from her tears biting at her raw flesh hurts more. Everything hurts so much. All she wants is for Marmee to pick her up and cradle her like she had when the girl was younger. She wants Marmee to kiss away her tears and promise her everything would be alright. She wants to be home, where Meg would wipe at her wounds with a damp rag while Amy buries her face into Beth’s stomach and cries her own, fat tears. Even when she isn’t the one who got hurt, Amy still always ends up crying. However, the middle March didn’t mind Amy’s theatrics, as it meant that Jo would end up teasing the younger March rather than her. Still, she’d never admit that, or any of this. She’d be far too embarrassed. If anyone knew that she felt this way, she’d surely have to run away from home forever. Wherever could she go, anyways? She’d go West to California. No, she’d had to leave the country and go to Europe. Maybe then she could build her life up from scratch and escape the teasing of her sisters.

Caught up in her own puddle of pity, the middle sister doesn’t catch the familiar sound of clumsy, crashing boots hitting the dirt path. Not far down the road and following the setting sun, a grey tattered wool skirt chases the wind as a high collared, perfectly off white shirt stumbles after her. Their laughter sings in perfect harmony with each other, and, around them, the world pauses to smile and watch as their youth passes them by. Each leaf and blade of grass gleams warmly, knowing that they will feed this memory to the flora of next summer. Unsuspecting and attempting to hide within the folds of her baby fat, she doesn’t hear as the footsteps come to a halt. The sound of their panting breaths fills their own ears. For a moment, all they can do is stare at the small conglomeration of dirt and snot. Swiftly, that moment ends as one of them stomps up to her.

“Ducky, what on Earth are you doing?” she spits out with more venom than intended, but such is the voice of a teen girl. The older sister’s hand shoots out and pinches Ducky’s dust-covered forearm. However, the young girl doesn’t squeal as her eyes shoot up to confirm her worst fears. The dirt on her face has mixed with her tears, leaving a thin film of mud on her cheeks. Her face is still stuffed with her baby fat and clinging onto her childhood as she enters her first few years of teenagedom. Immediately after locking eyes with her older sister, Ducky starts to thrash and shake like a force beyond nature. Her fists swing wildly and her legs rise and fall like the waves of the tsunami. Dirt kicks up around them and peels back their human disguise. It reveals what the two truly are. They are girls. They are hurricanes and the screaming wind at night. They are motion and sound and all that will forever remain restless. Girls will never be civil. They will never shed their empathy to trade it for boots and proper manners. Instead, they will spend their days fighting in the dirt and letting the dust mix with their sweat. The dust will turn to mud and clay, and, when the sun sets, they will freeze into statues, preserving their childhood forever.

“Let go, Jo-” Ducky shrieks as she kicks everywhere but where her sister is planted. Still, Jo is stronger than her sister, and her grip is determined. Ducky’s plump fingers wrap around Jo’s wrist as she continues to flail like a blouse in a tornado.

“What is wrong with you?” Jo yells back even louder, joining her sister in her insanity. After all, what are sisters for, if not to join each other in their melodrama? Rushing to her aid, a boy, about Jo’s age, presses his palms to the younger girl’s shoulders and allows his weight to give him the upperhand. Ducky, seeing Jo’s companion, lets out a deafening scream as her eyes shoot up to Jo.

“-No! No! No! Just let me die here! I’d rather die!” Ducky spits out, as she clings onto her sister’s arm. Now, instead of screaming curses about her name, her fingers plead Jo to not let go. Her eyes, the size of teacups at this point, dart between the two. She’s too stubborn to hold her sister's gaze, but she’s too scared to look into the boy’s, who she’s spent the last half year avoiding like he’s death incarnate.

When he first introduced himself to the March’s, after the ball where Meg had sprained her ankle, it was then she started feeling something fester and skitter around in her stomach. An adolescent boy was in her house. He was in her house, and he was talking to his sisters. She didn’t speak a word, and she never intended to ever find herself within a mile of him. Every time he would make his way over to their home, Ducky would race over to tumble behind the nearest wall or piece of convenient furniture. Amy and Beth would laugh and tease her for her ridiculous behavior, but they didn’t understand. How could they? Amy and Beth were still kids, but she, Ducky, was a teen girl. Amy and Beth could never understand.

“No can do. So sorry to dissapoint,” Jo’s friend replies through shallow gasps of air, and, for the first time, Ducky gets a good look at his face. His hair is the same color as when the first calls of morning brush against the forest’s skin, and slivers of his eyes twinkle amber in the last caresses of the day’s gentle touch. When she meets his eyes, his gaze is real but not stern. Without speaking, she can see the boy who’s only truly grown in the ways that allow him to wear a man’s clothes. With hunched shoulders and a tight jaw, what stares back at her isn’t the lumbering shadow she’s stitched onto his frame. All that’s there is a teen boy, who’s not all that different from her.

And, as the dust settles, and all three of them catch their breaths, the youngest of them is able to think again. It’s then, she realizes, a boy, a teen boy, is touching her. Once again, she tenses up and acts before her next breath. To say exactly what happened next is impossible. However, in the blink of an eye, Ducky’s knee raises, his grip loosens, and suddenly he’s curled up into himself and clutching between his legs.

“Are you insa - Oh lord, Teddy are you okay?” Jo stumbles through her words as she rushes over to her friend’s side. Ducky inches away from the two of them. Her breaths are shaky and ragged, and the inside of her throat is torn from heaving in dust. She’s not exactly sure she’s even breathing.

“He grabbed me! What else was I to do?” Ducky shouts over Jo while a new stream of steady tears bubble down her cheeks. All she can hear is the rush of her heart as her skin tightens and squeezes her aching bones. Does Jo care more about Teddy then her? Will Jo hate her forever for this? She can’t lose Jo to a boy. It would be too devastating.

“Because you were kicking and squealing like a rabid pig,” Jo reminds her as Teddy starts to sit himself up and brush off the dirt that cakes his linen pants. The dirt has turned his pristinely off-white shirt a patchy shade of taupe, and pieces of hair cling to the sweat that stains his forehead.

“I’m sorry! Please don’t be mad at me,” the younger sister begs, pulling her knees to her chest. Only then does Jo notice the clean rip across her sister’s dress, and her knees, which may have once been red, are painted a festering purple and green. Jo shuffles on her knees over to her sister. Reaching out to touch Ducky’s wound, her hand is quickly swatted away.

“Don’t touch me-”

“What happened?” Jo asks with a biting tongue that’s nearly indistinguishable from Marmee’s stern tone, who they both knew would be anything but pleased if she saw this scene play out in front of her.

“- I won’t tell you!” Ducky exclaims, her fingers digging into the fabric of what once was a yellow dress. Now, the dress better resembles a scrap of hazy beige fabric with twisting red stains.

“If I say, he’ll make fun of me! I’ll be a big joke to the both of you,” Ducky continues rambling on before Jo can reply. The older sister scoffs before she can even think of a smart response.

“Stop being stupid.”

“I’m not! He’ll laugh at me and then you’ll join in too. I’ll die before I tell either of you.”

“I promise I won’t laugh if you tell us what happened,” Teddy speaks up, stopping the glaring contest between the two March sisters. Rather, he ends up with both of the sisters’ wrath upon him as they try to burn holes through him with their gazes alone. However, after his words settle in a new silence, the younger of the two March’s expression softens like butter left in the sun.

“...Will you pinky promise?” she inquisitively replies, not an ounce of humor in her voice. Still curled into a shaking dust ball, Ducky’s shoulders fall as her skin relents and lets her body relax again.

“Yes, I will,” He replies with the same sincerity as he crawls over, pinky extended. Still shaking, Ducky sticks out her pinky. The blood on her finger has congealed, leaving a deep maroon and brown crust on it that highlights the creases and wear of her fingers. Without hesitation, Teddy curls his pinky around her own, and she stares down as some of her blood coagulates and mixes with the muck that coats his hand. The teen boy’s gaze stops slightly higher, as he finally is granted permission to commit the middle March’s features to memory. Her cheeks are practically about to burst with youth and baby bat. An enteral rosy flush of girlhood stains her skin, and her eyes walk a fine line of being doe-like and bug-like. Her features are an odd amalgamation of the child she’s been and the lady she’s becoming. Suddenly, a fit of giggles bubbles up from her chest, and she looks up at Teddy while their fingers stay intertwined.

“I thought I saw a fairy, and so I chased it. and then I tripped and fell and ripped Meg’s dress and the pain was so bad I bit my hand and I skinned my knees and I think some of my chin,” Ducky admits with a twitching, uneven smile stretched across her face. One of Teddy’s eyebrows raise in an incredulous surprise, presenting a smile that’s symmetrical to the younger girl’s. He slowly turns his head back to meet Jo’s gazes, whose eyes are glued to her sister’s. Slowly, like a pot of water coming to a simmer, all three of them dissolve into a fit of giggles. Their voices bubble and pop into the summer air as they shake the dust off their clothes with their heaving shoulders and shaking heads. None of them know exactly what the joke is, but none of them can fight through the never ending stream of laughter to ask. For what feels like seconds and days, the three lay on the road twisting and writhing in laughter until the sun finds rest in a valley far from the three’s line of sight.

Once the three finish collecting the remnants of themselves and picking up their aching bodies from the road, Jo hoists Ducky onto her back and kisses her bloody hand. A small streak of the dusty maroon liquid stains her lips, but the older sister doesn’t try to wipe it off. Ducky’s cheek is pressed to hers as they walk at a leisurely pace. All either can hear is the steady rate of their perfectly similar breaths. A silent “I love you” is shared in each inhale, and, through each exhale, boths’ feelings are validated and fully realized. Teddy matches their pace as they walk through the beginning of the young night’s song. Stretching out her hand, Ducky lightly brushes the creased fabric of his sleeve in a poor attempt to tap his shoulder. The young girl doesnt look over to him but, rather, rests her chin on her sister’s shoulder.

“I’m Y/N, but Jo n’ everyone calls me ‘Ducky’,” the young girl introduces herself as if he hasn’t been Jo’s friend for several passing seasons, “I hate it, but you can call me it, if you want to.” Although she has found the courage to speak to the young boy, she hasn’t found it in herself to look him in the eyes. Perhaps one day she’ll find her bravery hiding in the trenches of her gut, but today is not that day. Teddy smiles through a sigh as he looks over at her. Half of her dress is so torn it almost drags against the ground, and the rest of her is hidden under the protective folds of Jo’s gray skirt.

“I’m Laurence, but Jo calls me ‘Teddy’ and everyone else calls me ‘Laurie’,” The young boy plays along in introducing himself. For a split second, he catches her eyes darting over to catch his gaze, but the second is quick.

“Okay, Laurie,” she replies simply, ending the conversation as soon as it had started. For the rest of the trek home, the three walk in silence, and the world doesn’t speak either as it watches over the three make their way home.

Please like & repost & comment !! Also let me know if you're interested in reading the whole Laurie x reader fanfic !! It goes back & forth between past & present, similar to 2019 movie adaption.

#timothée chalamet #theodore laurence x reader #laurie x reader #jo march x reader #little women 2019 #laurie laurence #laurie laurence x reader #louisa may alcott #little women #laurie x jo x reader

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destieltropecollection · 1 year

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DESTIEL TROPE COLLECTION 2023 | DAY 10 | Canon Divergent

Sleepy Angel Kisses | Destielshipper4Cas (AO3)

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,255 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Universe, First Kiss, Sharing a Bed, Affectionate Dean, Falling angel Castiel, Crack Treated Seriously, Prankster Dean, Fluff and Crack Summary: Cas keeps falling asleep when low on grace. Dean takes advantage of that. Just some harmless pranks… right?

An Account of Consequences | @moustiel

Rating: General Word Count: 1,530 Main Tags/Warnings: Angst, post season 12 finale, spn rewrite, canon divergence, whump, heavy corpse description Summary: Castiel is the once and former God. There are consequences for trying to be The Most High. Isaiah 14:16-14:20

No Peace Held In Death | @aaronthe8thdemon

Rating: Mature Word Count: 2,265 Main Tags/Warnings: Episode: s07e04 Defending Your Life, Angst, Sad Dean Winchester, Sad Castiel (Supernatural), canon compliant? more like canon complaint Summary: Sammy’s out doing his Sam-thing, trying to take down Osiris with Bobby on the other end of the phone. Dean’s hanging out in their motel room, waiting. He fucking hopes it’s Jo. Which means it’s gonna be Cas.

a corruption cleared | @demonmary

Rating: Mature Word Count: 2,774 Main Tags/Warnings: Demon Cure, Demon Dean Winchester, Demon True Forms, Angelic Grace, Blood Drinking, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst Summary: When Castiel had healed him in the past, it was from the outside in. HIs hands would come to rest on Dean’s injured flesh, his grace would pulse through them like electricity, and the connection would stop when Cas pulled away. But this - this was more pure. This wasn’t Castiel’s touch, this was Castiel. This was Castiel, healing him from the inside out. _____ demon cure but make it horny grace drinking.

thank god for bruce campbell's abs | @watchinghimrakeleaves

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 3,408 Main Tags/Warnings: canon divergent, season 9, human castiel in the bunker, Summary: Dean decides to expose Cas to horror movies. In the process, he learns some startling things about his best friend.

I need to say something | @destiel-wings

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 4,861 Main Tags/Warnings: Episode: s15e09 The Trap, Castiel/Dean Winchester in Purgatory, Love confessions, Angst, Romance, POV Castiel, Dean Winchester uses actual words, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Summary: What if Dean had confessed in Purgatory, after his prayer? When Dean said "Cas, I need to say something," Castiel stopped him. But what if he hadn't?

Murder the World | @thisisapaige

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 10,162 Main Tags/Warnings: Angst, Canon Divergent after s10e22 The Prisoner, Demon Dean Winchester, the Castiel and Colette parallel, Switch Castiel/Switch Dean Winchester, Hopeful Ending, Porn With Plot Summary: Castiel said he would be the one to watch Dean murder the world. Now he has a chance to prove it.

This Isn't Where We Intended To Be | @porcupine-girl

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 14,094 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel in the Bunker, Human Castiel, Fallen Castiel, Post-Episode: s10e14 The Executioner's Song, Pining Castiel, First Kiss, First Time, Bunker Fic, Light Masochism, Meddling Sam, Emotionally Repressed Dean, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Light Bondage Summary: This time, he wakes up to the aftermath: Metatron and Crowley both dead. Dean lying nearby, unconscious and a bit bloody but free of the Mark. Sam mother hen-ing back and forth between them, trying to make sure they're both alive, assessing them for injuries, shifting them into the recovery position. He is hungry, cold, and weak. But he is not alone, and that makes all the difference in the world. Fallen, Castiel struggles to figure out where he fits in the human world—and in Dean's life.

The Parts You Keep Hidden | @skybird87

Rating: Mature Word Count: 16,035 Main Tags/Warnings: Episode: s14e10 Nihilism, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, Bad Parent John Winchester, Dean Winchester is Loved, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: In an attempt to free Dean from Michael, Cas and Sam journey deep into Dean's mind. Unfortunately, they find themselves stuck in an endless void of darkness, with only Dean's worst memories to guide their way.

Everything I Possess | @krexhatespushups-blog

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 19,023 Main Tags/Warnings: Archive Warning: Major Character Death Tags: Canon-Divergent AU, Pre-season one Canon divergent, Mentions of drug use and addiction, consequences of drug use, child neglect/child abuse, emotional manipulation, child abandonment, Mentions of PTSD, John Winchesters A+ Parenting, drug use by a minor, Dean/Cas established relationship, Blow jobs, car sex, public sex, references to physical abuse, praise kink, Temporary Death, VERY TEMPORARY MCD, grieving, dealing with grief, hunters funeral, non-con branding, non-con body modification, misuse of angelic grace as lube Summary: Dean had been fighting all kinds of supernatural beings from the time he could hold a gun, but he never expected angels to be real, So when he met Rhonda Hurley at nineteen in a tiny town in Colorado, the last thing he expected was that her sister had been miraculously saved by an angel. Nineteen years later, Dean and Cas are searching for God and their paths cross with a familiar angel who knows about Rhonda and reveals a secret - a pink satin-y panty shaped secret - that Dean has been hiding.

Mr&Mr Smith (WIP) | @malicmalic

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 55,512 Main Tags/Warnings: Cannon divergent, established relationship, angst, miscommunication, hurt, apocalypse is upon us, anal sex, oral sex, smut, loads of plot, happy ending. Summary: Castiel and Dean Smith are a regular married couple, living in a little suburban town and working ordinary, uninteresting jobs. However, each of them is concealing a secret: Castiel was once a mighty seraph, an angel of the Lord who decided to fall for human kind and walk among them as their equal. Dean on the other hand is a retired hunter of the supernatural, trying to let go of his past and find a better life after having ended the demon who killed his mother. When a nice, blond, cookie-selling girl scout knocks on their door and unleashes the entire hell on them, the life shattering secrets can no longer stay hidden. Exposed to each other’s worlds, Cas and Dean have to fight to save it from the appending apocalypse, but the insecurities and miscommunication might lead them to lose one another in the process.

I Will Be Your Message From God | @aaronthe8thdemon

Rating: Mature Word Count: 32,415 Main Tags/Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s08e17 Goodbye Stranger - The Crypt Scene, Winged Castiel (Supernatural), John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Angst and Feels, Non-Linear Narrative, Castiel-centric (Supernatural), Episode: s01e12 Faith, Episode: s02e13 Houses of the Holy, Episode: s04e16 On the Head of a Pin, Episode: s06e20 The Man Who Would Be King, Time Travel Summary: When Castiel touches the Angel Tablet and it frees him from Naomi's clutches at last, the only thing in his field of vision - both literally and psychologically - is Dean Winchester. He realizes none of this should've been necessary at all. And now, with Naomi chasing him in search of the Tablet, Castiel can only draw one conclusion. He must undo all of this, everything he's done wrong, on Dean's behalf. But his pitfalls are still there. He'll relentlessly pursue his goal at whatever cost, and left to face his own arrogance comes to understand that in reality he has no way to proceed. In addition to Naomi something else seems to be hunting him, something much more powerful and dangerous. And so Castiel can only land briefly before fleeing again, over and over, making an even bigger mess while trying to construct a solution to his past mistakes.

The Resting Place | @5x04dean

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 49,481 Main Tags/Warnings: Temporary Minor Character Death, Body Horror, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Horror, Pet Sematary AU Summary: When Sam, Dean, and Castiel head out to investigate a case, they assume nothing is out of the ordinary. But as Dean and Castiel continue to dance around one another's affections, they find that the small town holds deadly secrets—secrets that are far more sinister than any of them would have ever believed. Written for the 2021 DeanCas BigBang.

A Midwinter's Dream | @li-izumi

Rating: Mature Word Count: 53,245 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Divergence Season/Series 09, Season/Series 10, Canon-Typical Violence, Post-Mark of Cain (Supernatural), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Dean Winchester works through his trauma, Minor Rowena MacLeod/Sam Winchester, Kevin Tran Lives (Supernatural), Charlie Bradbury Lives, Dreams and Nightmares, Christmas, Angst with a Happy Ending, Advent Calendar Challenge Summary: Christmas is fast approaching, but Dean doesn’t feel like celebrating--he’s too busy hunting for that sort of thing. Though he promises to get Cas back in time for the epic Christmas party Sam’s been planning, Dean has no intention of staying himself. That may be another promise Dean can’t keep when the hunt goes wrong, trapping Dean and Cas far from civilization. Worse, Dean is plagued by unrelenting nightmares of his time with the Mark of Cain and is gripped by a lingering anger that he can’t seem to escape. Back at the Bunker, Sam and the others are working a little Christmas magic they hope will show Dean the light in the dark—and prove to him that the holiday spirit isn’t something he needs to hunt.

When Tomorrow Comes | @trenchcoatparadigm

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 78,994 Main Tags/Warnings: Fix-It, Season 15 rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Angst, Family Loss, First Time, Love Confessions, Dean Winchester Saves Castiel from the Empty, Castiel's Loss of Angelic Grace, First Kiss, Happy Ending Summary: When hunting for the Leviathan blossom, Castiel gets taken. Tired, desperate and wanting to tell him all the things left unsaid before it’s too late, Dean prays to him. But he realises... standing there, in the grey hellish landscape, the portal home flickering just beside them with seconds left on the timer, they already were too late. Running himself ragged fuelled solely by caffeine, whisky, and that trademark Winchester determination, he will find a way to stop Chuck and to save Cas. However, this isn't the blaze of glory Dean had always envisioned going out in. But, deep down, he would go out swinging to save a loved one. Those bright shining penetrating tear-soaked eyes are the last thing he sees before his vision is marred, the desperate plea of his name dampened by the black ooze filling his eardrums as the essence of the Empty wraps around him and pulls him pulled from existence into the dark. All because of that simple prayer, the ending Chuck had always planned was rewritten. With a fallen angel purged of happiness, a brother in mourning and a Nephilim-shaped timebomb the only ones left to Carry On on this desolate planet… What happens when tomorrow comes?

Do You Know What That's Worth? | @norahastuff

Rating: Mature Word Count: 92,212 Main Tags/Warnings: Cas POV, Canon divergent from 9x06, Cas is pretty damn competent, Slow Burn, brief non-explicit Cas/OFC, brief non-explicit Cas/OMC Summary: After Dean leaves him at the Gas N' Sip in Rexford, Castiel realises that he needs to get back in the game. However, that's easier said than done, and instead he finds himself working in a Target-style superstore in Boulder as he tries to figure out his new human life. He makes friends, starts hunting, even has a couple of hook-ups, but when Dean unexpectedly returns, Castiel has to re-evaluate where Dean fits in to this new life he has built for himself, and what it is they need from each other. And while Castiel may have had his grace stripped from him, he still possesses certain angelic sensibilities that may be the key to fixing some of the damage Metatron has wrought. With some creativity, teamwork, and a dash of hope, maybe he can discover just how much he's really capable of. (An alternate season 9 from Cas' POV.)

Eighteen (I've Got to Get Away) | @motherofdragonflies

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 122,569 Main Tags/Warnings: Major Character Death, Series typical violence, pre-canon, abusive John Winchester, young Dean Winchester, Season One Re-Write, Season Two Re-Write Summary: "Dad always said that family was important. They didn’t have a lot of family, the Winchester men, so they had to stick together. That was part of the rules Dean lived his life by: shoot first, ask questions later. Watch out for Sammy. Winchesters had to stick together. But what about when the rules contradicted each other? Which rule was more important: family sticking together or watching out for Sam?" When Dean turns eighteen, he’s forced to make a decision that will change the course of Sam and Dean’s life.

an empty house is not a home | @hawkland

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 143,247 Main Tags/Warnings: alternative season 13, alternative season 14, time traveling Castiel, switching Dean/Cas, Godstiel Summary: Jack’s grace is gone, and so is Dean—lost to the Michael of the Apocalypse World, and Cas despairs there may be no way to get him back. Not with his limited powers and only Sam and the other hunters to help avert this next apocalypse. Cas can think of only one being who might be powerful enough to stop Michael. But to summon him means a trip back in time to recruit none other than himself, from when he believed he could become the new God. And if called into the future, how will “Godstiel” react to what Cas has become and the existence of Jack…and will he agree to eventually going back? This story reimagines the events from Jack’s birth up through Dean’s possession by Michael with one major change: What if Dean had expressed his true feelings as soon as Cas returned from the Empty? How might their bond, strengthened by love and a more open understanding of each other, have changed the course of all that followed?

#destiel trope collection #destiel trope collection 2023 #destiel #fanfic #canon divergent #day 10

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manicpixiedreamcurl · 1 year

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Headcanon: Eddie likes it when you're a little mean

Warnings: alternative bondage (don't smudge your nail polish, Eddie), oral (m receiving), edging, dacryphilia, vague mention of orgasm control.

A/N: in a twist nobody saw coming, Jo writes dom!reader.

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"This is fucking torture," Eddie breathes, thighs twitching under your palms. "You're torturing me right now. That's- that's illegal."

You might laugh at such a statement from your weed smoking, underage drinking, drug dealing boyfriend if your mouth weren't full and drooling around him.

You blink up at him as you pull away. The slow drag of your tongue and the soft inside of your lips along his cock have him letting out a whine approximate to a sad puppy from the back of his throat, high and heartbreaking. It makes your clit throb.

"I can stop if you want," you murmur, laying gentle kisses to the sensitive spot under the round end of his cock. Eddie's hair flies around him with how fast his head shakes, frizzing his curls. You smile, thinking about how you'll look after him when this is over.

You love Eddie all the time. Hyperactive and fidgety when he speaks, focused and alive with a guitar in his hands, blushing and bashful when you call him pretty.

But there's something that warms you from the inside out about Eddie after you've teased him to tears, coaxed him to orgasm kicking and screaming. Boneless, satisfied, quiet; he'll stare at you with those big eyes while you run a hot bath, let you pull him in with his back to your chest so you can rub his shoulders, wash his hair with the care he never gives it on his own. He'll hum happily while you comb that frizz away with your fingers and apple conditioner, let him rest on your chest after until the water goes tepid.

"Please," Eddie gasps when the fantasy has left you teasing the one spot too long for his comfort, his cock aching and full. You didn't think dicks could be pretty until you saw Eddie's like this the first time, pink, slick and twitchy from the tip to his heavy balls. "Please, please, please let me fuck your throat."

Your lips quirk. Wrapping your fingers around him, you pull and twist gently, angling his cock just right so you can settle in between his thighs.

"How you gonna do that without your hands, Eddie?" You ask, opening your mouth to let his balls find your soft tongue. You lathe over them, let him feel the warmth and wet of you where he's sensitive. You get the taste of salt and Eddie in return.

"Jesus Christ," he whines, those big hands of his rising from the bed for a moment before he realises his mistake and presses them flat to the mattress at his sides again. Your chest aches for your well behaved boy even as he whines like a brat. "Why'd you have to paint them before? Coulda- shit, coulda done it after."

You suck gently, humming your consideration around soft flesh. "You get sleepy when you cum, sweet boy. Couldn't have you smudging my hard work rubbing those pretty eyes, could I?"

"Think you planned it," he says, cock weeping at the feeling of your smile against his balls. "Wanted me helpless."

"Me?" You ask, thumb rubbing over the weeping head of his cock. You leave wet kisses up the side of him, silky skin over steel. "That's quite the accusation, Eddie."

You sink your mouth down his heavy dick, fighting your body's reflexes to take him deep, sure he can feel your throat tightening to try and get rid of him. Another day, this is where Eddie's hands would fly to the back of your head, press you down to the end of him until your nose is tickled by dark hair. You see them fly up again in your periphery, shaking in the air and dropping again with a cry from the boy himself. "Stay there. Please, stay there, m'gonna- fuck!"

You pull away with a mean clasp at the base of his cock, watching the tears in his eyes as you blink away all those that choking on him drew from yours.

You can't help it. His shiny eyes, wet cheeks, shaking-bitten-swollen bottom lip. Looking at him like this makes you clench down on emptiness, panties sticking uncomfortably to the wet skin between your thighs.

No-one else in the world looks as pretty crying as Eddie.

You coo, playing with his cock, dragging your own spit up and down with a filthy wet noise at each end. "Always so desperate. You'd rub yourself raw without me, hm?"

He nods, eyes fluttering. You hear a soft sniffle. Your clit aches. "Used to, all the time."

"I know," you nod back. "But you don't have to anymore. Know it hurts now, but it's better in the end, right? You cum so much, Eddie. Fill me up every time."

His legs jerk, and you know he's thinking about the warmth and satisfaction of cumming in your soft cunt. He's told you himself how much he thinks about it. The sensation of feeling his release around his cock, sticky and hot inside you, comes to mind even when you're not there, sneaks up on him in class, during Hellfire, when he's stuck at a red light.

Eddie mumbles another please, voice barely above a whisper. He sniffs, blinks, and catches your eyes. "'ve been good,"

"You're always good, Eddie."

You get the softest smile from him then. A little shy, looking to the side of your head and then back. You sigh dreamily, achingly in love with him, and rest your head on his knee.

In your fantasies, you can keep him going like this for hours, till he's writhing and sweaty and half hating you. But you're not quite strong enough. You can't help but go soft at how proud Eddie gets to be called good.

"Want you to cum in my mouth," you tell him, adoring the shake of his knee under your cheek, the desperate nod, his cock jumping between your fingers. "Whenever you want, sweet boy."

"Thankyouthankyouthanky-" Eddie groans, tense and shaking. He fights what's coming when you take his head into your mouth and suck, knowing if he just lasts a little longer-

You moan around his cock at the sight of him, swallow him down until his sensitive head fills your throat to silence. Your fingers finds his balls, a gentle carress to coax warm cum from them. Eddie watches his cock vanish and reappear from between your spit soaked lips, his own mouth wide and loose to let pretty moans out. He presses the pads of his fingers to the mattress, something in the back of his mind telling him to keep them flat even now.

You play along the thick vein under his cock with your tongue at every movement of your mouth around him, feel it tremble and twitch. This is your favourite part, what makes the long buildup worth every empty, desperate clench of your cunt.

"Nothing feels so good, baby," Eddie says, the delicious stream of consciousness he lets out when you have him here, knowing you're finally going to let him finish with your warmth around him. "Never dreamed I'd ever get this - shit. You on your knees. Your mouth is magic, it's so good- it's so fucking good-"

He falls back, hips rolling up into your mouth. You let him take this, forcing himself a little deeper while he cums in long ropes you can feel sliding down your throat.

You keep him warm until he's whining and oversensitive. Having missed out on his taste, you indulge in wide licks to his head. It must hurt a little, but Eddie only curls his toes, lets you taste what little still clings to him.

You settle back onto your calves and watch him, warmed by the sight of his softening, satisfied cock resting on his thigh. His soft tummy rises and falls with every deep breath, his legs still twitching slightly with aftershocks.

You kiss his knee, press your cheek there to lean against him.

"Let me see your hands, Eddie."

A little more his usual self, he wiggles his fingers at you without sitting up, breathing a final Jesus H Christ into the air while you inspect his hands.

Still as neat as you ever get them with your less than perfect skills and Eddie's constant movement. Ten shiny black nails, not a smudge in sight.

#eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut

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storiesbyrhi · 10 months

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Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence, swearing, animal death, no beta, warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: Violence comes twofold. 2909 words.

Notes: Since canon Eddie doesn’t exist in the 1986 timeline, Chrissy’s death went down differently. This chapter explains what happened to Hawkins’ sweetest cheerleader. Stranger Things terminology you’ll need to know: The Void.

Credits to @jo-harrington, @toomanyacorns, and @somnambulic-thing for helping with this chapter, and a huge thank you to @munson-blurbs, who helped map out the action sequences of this chapter and the next.

1843

Penelope’s powdered spell was like anthrax to the vampires, and it was the turning point in the battle for the flatlands. The coven lost not another member from that year forward, but the colony of vampires grew more feral and savage when faced with their new mortality. They burned and pillaged just as fast as you could give and take their breath.

Some of the coven focused their time on helping the humans rebuild structures and acquire new seeds to plant. Some of them worked tirelessly, tinkering away at the collective memory of the flatlands, ensuring vampires and witches remained folklore and scary stories to tell in the dark. Some, like you, felt emboldened by a bloodlust that could only be satiated by killing evil.

“Did we fail her?” your mother asked your aunt as they watched you arm yourself with pockets of Penelope’s powder and blessed blades.

Sally and Gillian had borne the weight of their decision differently. For sister, they were not much alike. Sally, your mother, was burdened with regret whereas Gillian grew harder with each difficult choice she made.

“This is holy work,” Gillian stated.

“Is it?” Sally was grief-stricken. You used to be gentle, feeding wildflowers to deer and making mischief by moonlight. Now you slept, ate, and killed.

“The Witches Who Came Before foretell of us leaving this place. The humans will remain on consecrated ground and we will retire to where no sisters have been dissected by beasts. We will not live on their graves. When we leave, she will heal,”

“Will she ever know?”

“No,” Gillian answered. It has been seven years of not knowing. “Not ever.”

…

1986

Between the burning yarrow spell that had not stuck and the magic bath that brought Eddie back, you felt practiced in the healing arts. There wouldn’t be time for any rituals though. You would have mere seconds to take the twisted, pulsating flesh Henry Creel grew into in the Upside Down and restore it. The spell would take the inner magic you possessed and would force you to deliver it by touch.

A potion, though, could help the cause. All the plants you’d used before became paste in your mortar and pestle. Echinacea and elecampane. Rue, sweetgrass, and yarrow. As you worked, you spoke freely, writing a spell into the air.

“Seven years of cheated death,

Felt deep pain but kept his breath.

These plants I crush and bend to will,

Impart my magic,

Let me heal to kill.”

You scooped the paste into a pouch and then stood at the kitchen bar on unsteady feet. There was more to be done. An easy spell to hide the night from anyone who went looking, witches or monsters alike. A candle and an old spell uttered, you could finally crawl into your bed and close your eyes.

…

Like your body was set to a nighttime alarm, your eyes snapped open as soon as the sun had set. You moved quickly through the trailer, expecting Eddie to be there. No vampire. No bat. Just a groggy head after only a few hours of sleep and a pouch on the kitchen bench reminding you of what the night would bring.

After pacing and trying to telepathically call Eddie home (home…?) you settled your nerves with tea and tried to stomach some food.

Hand. Spoon. Bowl. Mouth. Hand. Spoon. Bowl. It was mechanical until the taste turned bitter. You pulled the spoon from your mouth to find a pen. Before you, the bowl was pushed off the bench and instead, your notebook sat open.

“A witch cannot fight alone,” was scrawled out.

The Witches Who Came Before had never initiated contact before. They’d never taken your hand for automatic writing without you calling first. You watched helplessly as your arm moved on its own accord, the pen gliding along the paper.

“He knows,” came the next caution.

“I know,” you said. “I know you’ve warned the coven. I know what’s at stake,”

“It is coming into focus. The voice that called you to consecrated ground.”

You paused, reading the words a couple of times over. “You said I should have never come here,” you reminded them.

“It is coming into focus,” was repeated. “A witch cannot fight alone. So, a witch will not fight alone.”

Did they mean the humans? El and Will and their own coven of sorts?

“You were wrong?” you asked them. Could they be wrong? Was that possible? “What… What do you see now? What’s coming into focus?”

The words were ripping from the pen too quickly, letters stacked on top of one another. Your hand hurt, the grip too tight.

HISTORY WILL NOT REPEAT A witch will not fight alone A WITCH WILL NOT repeat history will not repeat history LORE WILL BE REWRITTEN A witch will not fight alone a witch will not fight alone HISTORY REWRITTEN lore lore lore rewritten a witch will not fight alone a witch will not fight alone he knows he knows he knows A witch will not fight alone We Are Superstition a witch a witch A WITCH will not fight alone He came calling He came for help Not alone. Not alone. Not alone. History will not repeat.

The pen flew from your hand and across the room, embedding itself into the cheap plaster wall of the trailer. You were breathing heavily.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath. They were gone, leaving no comfort nor clear warning, just a hollow sort of fear and sense that maybe now the calling to Hawkins had indeed been sanctified.

You cleaned the mess off the kitchen floor, then considered leaving Eddie a note. Something in you said that if he wanted, he could find you. With one last look at the trailer you’d barely had a fortnight in, you locked the door and got in your car.

…

Vecna had ripped Hawkins apart using each of the four gates as a starting point. The gateways to the Upside Down represented a place of death, but not all of them were accessible. Max’s death (and subsequent resurrection at the hands of El) took place inside the Creel House, which was reduced to rubble, burying gate four too deep to get to. Patrick McKinney died over Lovers’ Lake, making gate three underwater. Both Nancy and Robin were violently against that option. Fred Benson’s road top ending left gate two hidden under thick layers of asphalt and concrete, the street having caved in entirely. That left the first gate, the one that had festered open under the corpse of Chrissy Cunningham.

Haunted and hunted, Chrissy had been chased into the woods near Hawkins High by visions of her monstrous mother. There, her body broke and the end of her life had ushered in Vecna’s dark hold over the town. The gateway left in the wake of the murder was the one you, Nancy, and Robin climbed through.

The Upside Down was eerie. It felt like a place that had absolutely no right existing. Doomed from inception. It smelt of ash and sulfur. The bodies of what looked like malformed bats were rotting everywhere. And it rained a kind of soot you’d seen slowly appearing in Hawkins.

Vines covered a lot of the landscape. They moved, like pulsating appendages. The motion of them, sliding and crawling over one another, reminded you of the squirming desperateness of garter snakes as they ball themselves together for days on end.

If your coven believed Hawkins was no place for a witch, what would they think of the hellscape you were marching through with only teenage girls for backup?

“What if he’s not in there?” Robin asked, her eyes glued to the ground as she carefully stepped over hivemind vines and other ghoulish obstacles.

Nancy stopped so abruptly that you bumped into the back of her. She turned around quickly, eyes wide. “What if he’s not in there?!” she repeated. “How… How did we not think-”

“He is,” you interrupted. “I can feel him.”

Their looks of relief lasted only a second before the fear returned and you all continued.

Treading a similar path in the real Hawkins, the rest of the humans were already coaxing Vecna out. Will’s skin prickled with goosebumps, the hairs on his arms standing on end. El could hear that voice in her head. “I can see…” he began. “I can see all. All your plans. All your hopes… Soon to be failures… I told you… It was just the beginning.”

The staircase in the Upside Down Creel House was covered in writhing tentacle vines. “These attacked… last time we were here,” Nancy whispered. She shared the same raw bruise as Robin. Steve would have shared it, had he survived.

Steve. He was all the girls could think about. How he’d led them up those stairs. How he’d stood and watched in awe as Nancy fired her sawed-off shotgun and Robin threw Molotov cocktails. How it was meant to be the three of them.

You stood in his place and sooner than they would have liked, you’d arrived in front of Vecna’s sleeping body.

“Shhhesh,” Robin hissed quietly. “Didn’t think he could get any uglier.”

The bullets and flames slowed him down but they hadn’t killed him. The scars became part of him, as all of his scars had. They shaped him. Built him. Powered him.

“Stay at the door,” you whispered to them. “If it looks bad, fire once then run.”

Nancy and Robin nodded in unison.

The room was quiet. Ironically, it felt cleaner than anywhere else in the Upside Down. It smelt of dust and human life. Had Henry carved out a small piece of normal there? Was there a soul beneath the horror?

You moved towards him. Each step was measured and you watched him for any twitch of movement. He felt sedate, but Vecna had mastered trickery long ago.

He was held high by the attached vines. “Per magica, oriri me,” you cast, levitating from the ground steadily until you were close enough that you could see the veins and tubing pulsate, you stopped. At the room’s threshold, Nancy and Robin held hands.

“Seven years of cheated death,” you whispered. “Felt deep pain but kept his breath.”

You covered your fingers in the potion and reached out swiping it across Vecna’s chest.

“These plants I crush and bend to will,

Impart my magic,

Let me heal to kill.”

The room held its breath, waiting for something.

Back on Earth, El and Will were laying side by side in the dirt near the rubble of Creel House. Jonathan knelt beside his brother, Joyce next to El. Their eyes were closed but they weren’t asleep. El had pulled them into The Void. It was quiet.

There, El and Will – siblings for all intents and purposes – stood facing Vecna. “A vessel,” Vecna almost crooned, reaching his clawed hand to Will’s soft face.

El stood between them. “Do not touch him,”

“This is done, Eleven. Look around. Hawkins is in ruins. Your friends have fled... those that still live,”

“It is not done until you are dead,” she spat back at him.

Vecna almost laughed. Almost.

You repeated the spell again and again, covering Vecna in the thick potion of flower and magic. His skin was changing, clearing.

“Ho-ly-shiiiiit,” Robin said.

Nancy’s eyes glazed over with tears.

It was working. It was fucking working.

Vecna reached out for Will a second time, but froze in place as he felt a burning sensation. The children in front of him both stumbled backward, staring at his body. He looked down and watched scar tissue heal in real time.

He roared; El and Will covered their ears, screaming at the sound.

“What! Is! This?!” The force of his anger knocked them off their feet and in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

“Where’d he go?! El?!”

“He’s- He’s-” But she was too panicked to say it. Vecna had returned to his physical body in the Upside Down.

Will and El bolted upright, panting. Their families embraced them. It’s all they could do. It was all up to the bravest teenage girls they knew and a witch they hoped was stronger than Vecna.

His eyes snapped open and his hateful stare bore into your soul.

You don’t know how you did it and neither did they, but your voice was loud in Nancy and Robin’s heads. Run. It was too late. Vecna’s arm shot out and held them frozen in place. The slithery tentacles peeled off the wall and wrapped around the girls’ wrists and ankles. They struggled to no avail.

“Your fight’s with me now. Let the humans go,”

“What are you?” Vecna asked. The healing magic was spreading slowly, a thin line of porcelain skin and a brilliantly blue eye twinkled with curiosity.

“You want to talk? Let them go.”

Vecna looked over at Nancy and Robin. With a flick of the hand, one of the tentacles tightened, breaking Robin’s wrist. A sharp intake of air let him know it hurt you too. “All you… heroes… You and Eleven… So much power wasted on loving the humans…”

It wasn’t going to work. You knew it then. The healing was happening too slowly. He’d kill the girls before he was Henry enough for you to use witchfire to any effect. He’d never let them go.

The only bargaining chip you had was the one thing you could never offer – insight into the craft. Even if you could save Nancy and Robin now, handing that over would doom them and the entire world later.

You had answered the call to come to Hawkins.

You had done what you thought was just and kind.

You had loved the humans for all of your years.

You would die with them, fighting with them, for them.

The coven would intercept him. They could do together what you could never do alone. Not alone echoed in your mind. The Witches Who Came Before. Not alone.

As Vecna held his claw out, hellbent on snapping Nancy’s left ankle, a loud and revolting squelching sound ripped through the room, followed by a howl spilling from Vecna’s mouth. He thrashed, hitting you hard, sending you toppling to the floor. He crashed down next to you, quickly standing to face his new enemy.

You followed his gaze to where something – moving so fast it was like watching static – was shredding through the tentacles holding the girls up. Suddenly, they were free. Both their faces were red and covered in tears. Before taking in any new information, you yelled, “Go!”

Robin pulled Nancy up and they were gone. In their place stood a figure with blood and Vecna-goo dripping from their face and hands.

Eddie.

…

1836

It was unmistakably vampire carnage.

They had come in the night and stolen a child. They’d left her father, the village’s best apple farmer, weeping and wounded. He was bleeding out, the only way to save him would be to let him turn. That was a fate worse than death though.

“It begins now,” Gillian spoke to the coven. “Witchfire at will. Penelope, all your focus must be on finding a true death for them. We will create closer borders. Accompany the humans whenever they leave. We will hunt them… Make no mistake, sisters… This is war.”

Eddie met you by the stream that night. The grief was written all over your face and it shattered him to see. He held on tightly, arms squeezed around you, and kissed the top of your head.

“I can’t leave now,” you whimpered, crying softly into his coolness.

“I know, little witch, I know.”

“No. No! You do not understand. There’s no way both you and I survive this! There’s no… No… No us… anymore.” You hit at his chest and pushed him away, only to let him pull you back into his embrace.

Eddie was stoic, but if he was honest with himself – a little pissed off that he was able to feel heartbreak when his heart didn’t beat at all. He hurt more then than he ever had before. Dying hurt less.

“And I, for my part, cannot stop them. The chasm between them and I has grown. They are… becoming suspicious of me. If I-”

“I know. I know. I don’t… I don’t want you to…” But you did. You did want him to be able to stop the colony from reigning hell on the flatlands. You knew he couldn’t, not if you wanted him to live. “You have to leave. You must go somewhere far away from here.”

There was no more discussion for there were no more options. Eddie could not fight against the colony; it would be suicide. He couldn’t and wouldn’t join them either. Not if it brought harm to you, or your coven and human charges. So, he would run.

“I would die again and again, my love, if I meant I met you again and again,” Eddie whispered. “I have loved you more than I have loved life, than blood and the night.”

Eddie took your face in his hands, pushing his forehead against yours. In your last kiss, he split his lip and bit down on yours.

“Blood of my blood,” he said. “My little witch.”

Tears poured down your face. Between shaky breaths, you replied, “Blood of my blood. My lonely vampire.”

End Note: The Grimoire and timeline have been updated. As always, I would love to hear your thoughts and feelings! xo Rhi

Fic Taglist: @kaitebugg03 @paranoidmunson @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog

All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel

#Mine #Burning Yarrow #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x You #Eddie Munson x Reader #Vampire!Eddie

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satureja13 · 6 days

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It was raining when the others arrived from their trip to Tartosa. Noxee awaits them. Saiwa and Jack already landed safe at the Beach House. (It often rains when Ji Ho is sad. Maybe because he's worried to cause Vlad inconvenience by staying with him again tonight?)

Haha they squeezed the five of them in the TukTuk! Maybe they can even travel around with all six of them?

It's time for Noxee and Greg to leave. A visit in the Otherworld is draining and usually no one can stay here for longer. (That's why it's so calmingly empty all the time.) Greg hugs Kiyoshi: "Farewell my son." (Greg really seems to support Kiyoshi and Jack! The last time when I heard him say 'Farewell my son' was when he left Baby Jack to live with Uncle Stefan! And I've never seen Greg hugging any of the Boys. He barely talks to them. Well except when he yelled at them when he'd been their PE teacher ^^')

And then Ji Ho and Vlad sent Noxee and Greg back to Moonwood Mill with the devices Rubyn had built for them. (I don't think it's necessary for Grexee to kiss while teleporting, but they do it anyway ^^' Maybe if something goes wrong?) And Kiyoshi is so excited again when he sees them kissing hahaha

The Boys still have to earn money to pay back Rubyn and the others so they went to work for the rest of the day. It's painful for Kiyoshi to work in Jack's shop. The last time they'd been happy together was in their wine and cheese cellar at the invisible farm.

And even though Ji Ho is tired from sending back Noxee and Greg, he didn't feel dizzy from the ride, because he'd spent the last night with Vlad. So he went to his room to work on his songs. He missed this so much. And he misses their home and living here together with all of his friends.

It was raining again when they had dinner. Jeb tried to cheer Ji Ho up and Vlad decided to not make a fuss because Ji Ho is spending the night with him again to not make him even more sad.

Jeb and Kiyoshi retreated to Jeb's apartment after dinner and got ready for bed. Jeb even installed a second sink for Kiyoshi. Jeb: "Oddly domestic, huh?" Kiyoshi grumbled something and stared into nowhere. Jeb sighed. Both of them want this with someone else...

In the other bathroom, Vlad is trying hard not to make a fuss.

It's worse when Ji Ho is sad. It also affects him over their Bond. So Vlad put his pride and principles aside. They can have their non-relationship back when Ji Ho feels better.

They awkwardly sat on Vlad's bed. Maybe it's the last time they are together before Ji Ho's ingame wedding with Prince Caleb ö.Ö

Vlad would never admit it but he also suffers from exhaustion. So he has some benefits of their encounter too. Teleporting a TukTuk around in the Otherworld is draining for both of them. And he loves Ji Ho from the first day he saw him. But the more time they spend together making love, the more painful it is because Ji Ho isn't able to love him. And of course Ji Ho feels these thoughts over the Bond. Ji Ho: "The therapy will fix this. I'll do anything..."

Vlad: "Don't worry about me."

Ji Ho: "Vlad..." Vlad: "Shhh..."

And then Ji Ho gave himself over to absolute pleasure... And the rain stopped from falling - because Vlad made Ji Ho very happy...

'Give yourself over to absolute pleasure Swim the warm waters of sins of the flesh Erotic nightmares beyond any measure And sensual daydreams to treasure forever Can't you just see it? Whoa, whoa, whoa'

Don't dream it, be it - The Rocky Horror Picture Show TMI: have I ever told you how much I love this movie? When I was ~16 y/o I watched it every day after school, for months! (I watched it way more often than even Star Wars ^^') And my friend and I used to sing the songs loud in the school bus hahaha omg!

Outtakes

Vlad: "Do you mind we proceed in Jeb's bed? So I don't miss you so much when I'm alone in my room again. Your scent in my bed and the memories of us there together..." Jo Ho: "Oh, ok." (That's what they did. I clicked on Vlad's bed and they ran over to Jeb's...)

He really tried so hard not to make a fuss but he just can't help it ^^'

From the Beginning ~ Underwater Love ~ Latest Current Chapter: 🕹️ 'The One' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

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bluejaysandblackbats · 4 months

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Five Little Ducks

Fandom: DC Comics, Batman

Summary: Bruce finds a magically de-aged Jason.

Chapters: 13/13

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Stephanie Brown, Duke Thomas, Zatanna Zatara

Additional Tags: De-Aged Jason Todd, Magic, Babysitting, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, POV Third Person, Bruce Wayne is Not Okay, Bruce Wayne Tries, Jason Todd Has Issues, Childhood Trauma, TW: Self Harm

Chapter Thirteen: The New Normal

Bruce woke up with a blade to his throat. “Jason—.”

“How’d you know it was me?” Jason whispered. He had a man’s voice, an angry man’s voice, but Bruce knew better.

“Because you’re scared,” Bruce whispered as he opened his eyes. They exchanged glances in the dark.

“You’re the one with a knife to your throat, and I’m the one who’s scared?” Jason asked.

“If you were mad, you would’ve gone for my eyes,” Bruce answered. Jason tightened the blade against Bruce’s neck, allowing the serrated edge to penetrate the skin. “Sit down, and let’s talk. It’s been a while… I missed you.”

Jason shook his head. “No, it’s a trick,” Jason whispered. Bruce touched Jason’s wrist gently.

“You don’t think I love you… And that hurts, doesn’t it?” Bruce asked. Jason pressed the blade further into Bruce’s flesh, drawing blood. Bruce didn’t flinch.

“Do you think this is funny?” Jason asked. Tears forced their way down Jason’s cheeks as he raised the knife above his head. Bruce let go of Jason’s wrist and stared into his eyes. They were a child’s eyes. Jason let out a sob involuntarily as the tears flooded down his face. “Fight back!” Jason screamed. Bruce didn’t move. Blood trickled down his neck as he watched Jason fight within himself.

“I wasn’t the same without you… If this is what it takes to prove I love you, then so be it, Jason. I’d do almost anything for you,” Bruce whispered. Jason let out a sickened scream like a wounded animal as he plunged the knife into Bruce’s shoulder.

“We should’ve died together! I passed away without ever knowing how you felt! If you loved me, you would’ve died with me!” Jason screamed. “Or you would’ve killed him!”

“I couldn’t kill Jo—. Him… because it would’ve made your death cheap. I don’t know how to fix it if I can outside of that, but part of me knew that I’d never be able to remember you as you were if I made it about him. I wanted to kill him… Hell, I still want to kill him for what he did to you, but I never would’ve grieved you properly. You deserved that at least—.”

“You didn’t grieve me. You replaced me. I was nothing more than another sidekick to you. You never cared about any of us… You didn’t care about me,” Jason spat. The words tasted sour to Bruce as he considered Jason’s words. Bruce didn’t want to fight. That was the mistake Bruce made back then. He never should’ve fought Jason.

“I love Tim and Dick… But you were special. I don’t think any two people were more made for each other as father and son as we were. Jason, I couldn’t love the same after you. I couldn’t breathe the same… Batman will never feel the same. I put on the cape and cowl, and I’m constantly haunted by the little boy I killed.

“I know you’re scared, but I’m here. It’s not too late to let me help you. We can fix this—.”

Jason pulled the blade from Bruce’s shoulder and backed away. “You didn’t want me anymore! You were gonna let me go with her! She was a stranger, and you were fully prepared to let me go with her… Like I didn’t mean anything to you,” Jason cried as he sank to the ground in a corner of the room. Bruce held his bleeding shoulder as he sat up and turned the light on.

“I thought it would keep you safe. I didn’t want you to leave, but I—. I was terrified about what would happen if you stayed with me… It’s all my fault,” Bruce admitted. Jason hid his face in his hands.

“I was scared, Bruce… Everything was falling apart, and I just—. I wanted something to hold onto,” Jason wept, “You weren’t there for me.”

“You’re right. I was too passive. When I saw you hurting, I backed away. I should’ve been stable. That’s all you needed,” Bruce replied as he approached Jason. “You loved all your parents, and we all failed you. Didn’t we? You loved Willis. I know you did… But he didn’t know how to let you be gentle. You loved Catherine, but drugs took her away from you… You loved Sheila, and she betrayed you… And you loved me, and I failed you in every way imaginable. I’m sorry.” Jason dropped the knife and looked up. Bruce nodded.

“I hate you so much,” Jason cried. Bruce nodded as he opened his arms. Jason struck Bruce across the face. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.” Jason fought Bruce’s embrace until he realized Bruce wasn’t giving up. “I loved you, Bruce.”

“I love you too, Jason,” Bruce whispered, “Jason… You’re gonna be alright. I’m not gonna let go. I’m right here. Nothing else matters, I promise.”

Jason wept on Bruce’s uninjured shoulder. “I’m so tired,” Jason mumbled.

“I know…” Bruce held Jason until he fell asleep, and he tucked Jason into his bed. While Jason slept, Bruce patched himself up and sat by Jason’s bedside, pushing his hair back. “It’ll be alright. This wasn’t your fault. You’re gonna be okay,” Bruce whispered. Jason breathed heavily in his sleep as if he hadn’t slept in days. His chest heaved up and down quickly, and Bruce gave Jason’s scalp a gentle scratch. “You’re safe now. Don’t worry about anything. I’ve got you now.”

Bruce slept in the chair and awakened as Jason draped a blanket over the older man. Bruce looked up and smiled. “How’s your inner child?” Bruce smiled.

“You let me stab you in the shoulder,” Jason mumbled as he sat on Bruce’s bed crosslegged.

“I thought you were aiming for my throat,” Bruce whispered, “And you missed everything important.”

“I wasn’t aiming for anything important… I was thinking…” Jason chuckled, but his smile quickly faded. “You know about what happened when I was ten years old… What do you have to say about it?” Jason asked.

“Are you a baptized Catholic?” Bruce questioned. Jason smiled and nodded. “And we didn’t talk about why… Why’d you do it?”

“Things were awful at home. Mom and Dad were fighting all the time, and—. And I was tired of being the adult,” Jason replied, “I was only ever a kid when I was with you.”

“I’m glad I did one thing right,” Bruce grinned, “Oh, the haircut you had when you were eight… I liked it.”

“Funny,” Jason replied, “I learned a lot from this.”

“You remember all of it?” Bruce questioned. Jason nodded.

“Don’t tell anyone that I remember, okay? Except for Stephanie… Tell her I said she was one of the best moms I ever had,” Jason smiled.

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me… And I’m grateful for the time I spent with you these past few weeks,” Bruce confessed, “But next time, can we do family therapy instead?” Jason laughed.

“I’ll never let you off that easy,” Jason whispered. The two men sat in the dark together, watching the sunrise outside Bruce’s bedroom window. “I don’t know how to move forward, Bruce.”

“That’s okay. We’ve got all the time in the world to figure it out,” Bruce whispered.

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fantasies-fairytales-n-fics · 4 months

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Thranduil and Josie Pt. 168- Gypsy Origins Part 1 of 3

Summary: Haldir's patience is tested during a long, bitter journey. A hypnotic tale of past truths be told.

*Chapter Warnings* language, angst, blood, violence, death, child death

Chapter characters: Haldir, Delphine(Jocelyn), Rumil, Orophin, Harker, Jemma, Zeddicus, Jessie, Thomas, Ravenna, Finn,

Chapter word count: 7,000

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist:

As the dawn of the new winter day shone it's light through the sky reaching bare trees, Jocelyn reluctantly surfaced from under a sizeable pile of brush where she had sought shelter through the cold black night from the evil enchantments of the dark forest and the wicked ones that dwelled within it's borders. Still weakened from the burning cross branded onto her chest by the nutty nun's red hot iron bar, the witch doctor slowly and cautiously crept over the pathless snow covered forest floor, squinting her light strained eyes as she searched for the way out before the befoul breeze consumed her thoughts and lungs for it's morning breakfast. Being accustomed to the lifeless woodlands of the Dorwinion realm, Jocelyn soon found the hidden exit only seen by the trained eye and as she crossed over, trained eyes were watching her. Six of them, all blazing blue, belonging to Haldir, Rumil and Orophin whom were all armed with engaged arrows upon her.

Gasping, her hues, also of blue, frantically darted beyond the trio of platinum locks in search for Bash.

"Where...where's Bash???"

Haldir, being the leading Marchwarden of Lorien and the only Silvan elf of the three that spoke Westron due to all his travels, chose to toy with the witch that he was undeniably unfond of.

"One could only presume his flesh has been ripped from his warlock bones and his soul stripped of his rotting carcass. It is usually the outcome of being left at the mercy of the devil himself."

Her brow raised as she smirked at Haldir's rather serious expression.

"And I can only presume that you are lying through your pretty white elven teeth. Any fool can see that you deeply care for Josie and you would not allow harm to come to those who have risked their lives to help her, even if those I refer to are warlocks who happen to be relatives of the notorious Lord Narcisse, who's reputation highly precedes him in not being a very liked man, but compared to Rahl, Stephane is a fucking saint. I know that you did not leave Bash and that young boy to die and I also know that as wicked as Rahl is, he would not kill his brother and son. His father yes, because the wretched warlock deserved it. Rahl was merely toying with them as you toy with me. I did not willingly leave them. I..."

"You ran for your wicked little life." Haldir scoffed.

Jocelyn bravely marched right up to the poison tipped arrows that were still held upon her and defended herself.

"I am not wicked!! And...what would you have had me do??? YOU were the ones with weapons, not me! Now where are Bash and Charles??"

"Being escorted by the others back to the castle as you now will be. You will follow me. Jo needs you. She's waiting."

Haldir swiftly departed as Rumil and Orophin held their armed stances, while Jocelyn huffed and stomped off to follow the Marchwarden.

After a few minutes, Jocelyn became annoyed at the two brothers behind her and glanced back at them with a scowl.

"Can you please give me some elbow room??" she snapped. "You know, personal space, ever heard of it??"

Ignoring her complaints, the two elves silently carried on behind her with flat expressions which only riled her up even more as she offered them another scowl.

"You know, my mother used to tell me that always having a resting bitch face could end up with it becoming stuck like that. In your case, I can see that to be true. Do you speak? Have you ever? Do you even know how??"

Still, there was not a single word from any of the three elves.

"UNbelievable!"

Jocelyn shook her head and then ran up beside Haldir.

"Am I going to have these arrows in my back the entire way? Why am I being treated like a prisoner?? I have done nothing wrong!"

"Haven't you?" Haldir snarked as he kept his eyes straight ahead.

"Ok, I can clearly tell that you do not like me which is probably because, like all the other fools, you believe the UNTRUE stories you have heard about me."

"I do not like you because you reek of deceit and you insult myself and my brothers."

"Well hello pot, meet kettle...you certainly have been no prince charming."

"I am no Prince. Personal space." Haldir snarked and sped up his large strides in which Jocelyn now angrily trotted behind him.

"Yes. I can tell. Princess may be a better term. And what do you mean deceit? I have deceived no one. If anything, "I" have been deceived here. I would much rather resume my torture at the nunnery than to be forced to return to the lion's den per se OR to be anywhere near the likes of you and your bow happy brothers!"

Haldir spun around so fast that she bounced right off of his chest and tumbled with a hard thud onto her ass.

"Is that all your witch lips do is babble? My goal is to bring you to Jo who needs your help and who I thought you cared for and who in this moment, you remind me VERY much of."

Her gaping eyes then turned to a glare. "Call off your guard dogs or you will have to carry me for I will go no further!"

Haldir thought of you again in that moment, how you had refused to get out of his way and he had picked you straight up and moved you himself. The memory had the Marchwarden chuckling inside of his mind, but on the outside, his face matched the solemn spirits of his brothers who now stood behind him as they all leered down at her.

Haldir's tone was ominous as he spoke through slitted lips. "That could be arranged."

Their piercing eyes now had the feisty brunette quite anxious.

"I dare you to try sprite. Maybe you should heed all the rumors as they say I am poisonous and I do believe elves can be poisoned. Who will help you then? It's a long walk back to the imported Mirkwood healing water. Go ahead...touch me."

The silence and the stares between the four were intensely long and then Haldir finally lifted his hand and motioned for his brothers to lower their weapons.

A smug smirk grew on Jocelyn's lips as the two elves complied. "Good boys. As if you would have shot me anyways Haldy. You need me."

"Jo needs you. I can always shoot you in the leg."

"And then you WILL have to carry me." she quipped and hopped to her feet and walked off to a tree and pulled out a knife.

The arrows swiftly rose again, this time by all three elves.

"What are you doing?!" Haldir growled as she began to cut into the tree.

"It's Spruce bark, which I would have figured a wood elf would know of. It has medicinal purposes, although I don't think it can do anything for that stick up your ass." she replied in a mordacious manner as she cut the pulp out and ate it while gazing in the exasperated elf's eyes. "Would you like to try a piece for good meas...."

Before she could finish her sentence or even blink, Haldir swiftly swiped the knife clean from her hand with an elven move completely invisible to the eye.

"It would seem there was good cause for our weapons. Bo cín té witch (On your way witch)."

Jocelyn's mouth hung open at her empty hand and then her eyes fumed at him before she stormed off. "This is bullshit!"

Haldir mumbled under his breath as the elves now followed her. "Yes it is."

An hour had went by as all walked in silence and Jocelyn's steps were slowing, for the tree bark's energy boosting properties were wearing off and the area of the forest they trekked through became all too familiar to her.

"Could I please have my knife back? I need more of the pulp. My chest is on fire, yet I am freezing and I am tiring." she asked in a defeated tone.

"How is it that you are chilled with the fur of a dead animal constricting your neck?"

"It is not real. I am not some savage like you think me to be. I am just someone who was thrown into a world I did not ask for. Now please...are you not an elf of light? If you have a heart under that tough guy act, which I think you do, for you are doing all of this for Josie, then help me before I collapse or you you really will have to carry me. I need to be stronger to help her. God..I still cannot believe she is here in Dorwinion, but it was inevitable that she would cross paths with Stephane at some point since Jul....never mind. I don't want to talk anymore. I...I feel sick."

Jocelyn sat on a fallen tree, lightly panting and then began to weep.

Haldir stopped and cut a large chunk of the bark, then removed the pulp and chopped it into bite size pieces for the ailing witch.

"Tha...thank you." she sniffled as she took it and kept her eyes to the ground as she nibbled. "Why...do you think I am deceitful?"

"The scent of secrets spill from your pores. For many years, Jo has known and believed your daughter Sarah to be simply her human neighbor and best friend in the mundane world, which included you and I now believe that to be of no coincidence, for now here you are, a witch, in middle earth's magical realm and I have since learned that lady Lola is also your daughter. You also claim you are in fear of a recently deceased Caroline and that you should not speak of Jo. Why is that? Jo has been deeply hurt by that wretched witch turned vampire for she too was full of secrets and lies as you clearly are. I will not let you hurt her too. Speak the truth or as I mentioned, I can and will force you. What is your involvement with Caroline and why is Harker after you? Something happened here. I feel it."

"Here I thought you could actually be nice. So interesting. You speak of deceit as if you have not swam in it yourself. You can sense light and darkness and force truth from others and I... I can see all of that in their eyes, the windows to the soul and yours speak loudly. Jo...you...you love her....intimately you have been when she was not yours to be with. It would also seem...yessss, that you were also intimate with her mother. Now who reeks of deceit?"

Haldir's jaw clenched and his nose flared. "Wicked you are! I have had enough of your deflection."

Jocelyn's breath was lost as her eyes were taken against their will by the unseen power in Haldir's hypnotic glare. She could not pull them free from his wild, dilated blues. She could not even blink as tears dripped down her cheeks like a leaking faucet. She could not move from the log beneath her, only tremble and whimper as the magical elf's lips began to move.

"Im orth- i fána o nin eyes. Ennas na- baw dolen hen faer tur- deli-. Im orth- i fána o nin eyes. On- nin i dolen hen faer hides." (I raise the veil from my eyes. There is no secret her soul can hide. I raise the veil from my eyes. Give me the secrets her soul hides).

Haldir raised his chin and stared down the slope of his nose at the vulnerable woman.

"Tell me about Harker. All that you know and have experienced."

The memories began to play like a movie and Haldir could see them all as they were transferred from her eyes to his while she told the story in her trance like state. It was if she were reliving it right there in the present.

I...I'm in bed. I don't feel well. I can't sleep. My stomach is cramping and my sheets are bloodied. I have become a woman on my 13th Birthday. It's the night of the summer solstice celebration, the longest night of the year and I am the only child there. My older brother Jeremy is away.

I hear violin music and my father's obnoxious laughter from the traveling carnival outside. I see people drinking and dancing around a bonfire from the window of our trailer. My gypsy mother is giving tarot readings. They're all gypsies, even my grandfather but I knew they were much more than that. He's coming in to check on me. I can smell his old spice cologne.

He's bringing me a potion for pain. It's glowing. I ask him as I always did, are you a witch? Is this magic? He's laughing. He says...

A witch doctor. It's hocus pocus my child.

He watches me drink and then, there is no more sound. The music has stopped. The laughing has stopped. I hear gasping. My mother is shouting for my grandfather.

Papa!

I'm watching once again from the window as he goes to her. She's clinging to my father while others stand near, staring at a man I have never seen. He wears black leather, his hair is light and his eyes are blue, but they hold darkness. He is not wanted here. I'm listening to my grandfather and the man speak.

Be gone warlock! Your kind does not belong here.

Oh but I do. You see, I too enjoy a good carnival. In fact, like you, I have my own traveling funfair, but I must say, it is much more...fun...than this. Maybe you have heard of it? Harker's World of Wonders?

It is a circus of freaks, all like you. You steal children and their souls.

I do not steal them. They are given to me. Just as you are going to give me yours. I smell her.

He looks at me in the window. I am so scared. I..I have peed myself.

And I see something else you're going to give me as well. Mmmm, I wish that I had Jessie's girl.

My father's name is Jessie.

I see the man ogling my mother. He runs his tongue over his teeth. My mother shouts at him.

I will give you nothing!

Jemma, Jemma, Jemma...you will, or everyone here will die in a matter of seconds. Do you want all of their blood on your hands? It's simple really. Give yourself and your daughter to me and I will let them all live.

I'm watching my mother. She is stringing her slingshot behind my grandfather's back while the warlock speaks. She lunges forward and shoots a rock clean though his hand. She screams at him.

Get out of here! Leave this camp you murdering bastard!

He's angry. He clenches his fist and blood pours out.

I warned you witch. Now be still and watch.

I'm shaking, too scared to watch...but I do. His injured hand forms the shape of a gun and real bullets spray and shatter the trailer next to me. There's an explosion and so much fire. There's so much screaming. I hear my mother's screams. I cover my ears and scream too.

Many are dead in seconds like he said. I see my mother and grandfather. They're alive, but I do not see my father. Now I see him. He's running to me! I hear him shout for me. Joss!!!

I'm screaming and banging on the window. Daddy no!! Get down!!

I hear more bullets firing and I watch him fall. My mother and grandfather watch him fall. I..I can't breathe. I can't move. I hear my mother screaming again. I see her running to him, crying out his name. Jessie!!!

She falls onto him, pleading for him to wake up... but he doesn't.

I run from the trailer in my nightgown to go to my dad and the evil man grabs me. My mother panics and begs him to let me go.

Your father will be next. DO you give yourself and the child to me???!!

Just take me! Leave my child with her grandfather.

NO Momma!!! I cry and try to free myself, but he is too strong.

Two for the price of one is the deal...or DIE!

My grandfather curses him. The man laughs and twirls his finger. My grandfather begins to bleed from his eyes.

Your magic does not work on me old fool Zeddicus!!

My mother pleads for him to stop. She agrees to his deal.

You can have us!!! Please stop!!

We ride off with the warlock on his black horse and never see my grandfather again for many years."

Haldir's heart slightly palpitated when she finished, for it saddened him deeply what had happened to her and family, but he knew he had to make her continue, for there was much more he needed to know.

"Tell me all that transpired after."

Jocelyn's flooded eyes fluttered but remained locked in the Marchwarden's as she resumed her terrifying tale.

"I'm waking up. I don't know where I am. I don't see my mother, only other children, lots of them, boys and girls, all of different ages and skin color. They're scared. Some are crying. I'm looking around. I think I'm in a stable? I'm not sure. The walls are wooden. It smells. The floor is dirt. I see daylight creeping through the cracks in the walls.

An older woman speaks to me. She's dressed like a servant.

Come child. We must clean you up and then you will sit quietly with the others until it is time for your bread and water.

I tell her my name and ask her what hers is. She says names do not matter here. I am a number and to do as I'm told.

She bathes me in a stall. The water is dirty and cold. She makes me wear a large cloth for my undergarment, pinned like a diaper. She's brushing my tangled hair. It hurts. She's not gentle like my mother. I hear noise outside. When the woman tends to another child, I sneak to the wall and peek through a small hole. I see lots of me. I think they are guards and I see strange looking people, carnies I suppose, some with physical ailments, almost animal like, dressed for circus acts. I see Harker's trailer. His name is on it. He's coming out with my mother! She's crying, her hair is a mess, her clothes are torn and he is smiling and groping her. I yell to her.

Momma!!

A clammy hand covers my mouth and I'm pulled away from the wall. It's the servant.

Hush child!! Do not draw attention to yourself. You are to be seen and not heard or you will moved up the waiting line.

Wh...what is that?? I ask her.

To be taken to the witch in the woods and you will never return.

But..but I want to see my mother!

You cannot. Ever. She belongs to the master now as do we all. Now go sit down. It is time to eat. You must stay in reasonable shape for when your time comes. If you are rejected, you will suffer dearly.

I'm shaking and crying. I can't stop. Night falls and I hear the most frightening sounds outside. Screaming, moaning, laughing. I cry myself to sleep. Every day is the same. Every night is the same. Every 3 days, I watch children from different groups, nine of them, leave at dusk in a wooden cage on wheels with iron bars. They are replaced with new ones by Harker over the 3 days after and the cycle repeats. He does the work. His men make the delivery.

We travel to new places each week. Places I do not recognize. I don't think I am near home anymore. I scratch marks into the walls each night with a rock to keep track of the days. When we move, I count the marks and memorize the number and then start all over again.

352 days have went by and I am 14 now. It is the summer solstice again. I think I am the oldest of all the children. I am lucky I have not been chosen yet but I wish I would be so I could see the sky and breathe the air again, even if it was for the last time. I regret my thoughts. Dusk is settling in and the wagon is being prepared. Harker comes for me and two others from my group. We're all screaming and crying as we are dragged to our wooden chariot. I...I hear my mother!!! She's still alive!! She's shouting my name and running to me.

NO!!! Please!!! Not her!!

Harker strikes her. She falls to the ground. Her lip is bleeding. He orders the guards to take her away. They carry her off, barely conscious as she reaches for me. I am picked up and violently thrown into the wagon. The children are huddling in the back while I sit alone at the door being gawked at by the two guards who follow.

The journey is long and hot. We are traveling on winding narrow paths near a raging ocean. One of the children had lived in the area. Thomas is his name. His eyes are chocolate like his skin. He calls the inland sea a black sea of death. It eats the living and the dead. On the North-West side is the Dorwinion realm, a land of Warlocks and humans. He says the King is of both light and darkness. Some say he has an evil twin but the boy is not sure. He then tells me that one of the witch Queen's castles dwells on the cliffs of the South-Eastern side and that her King is a King of Goblins who dwells in the Misty mountains far away to the North-West and he also says Harker is his brother. They are both evil but not nearly as their mother, a winter witch.

He looks to the North and reveals that a very powerful Elvenking of light reigns there over the vast woodland realm of Mirkwood. He points to a very hard to see island in the North-East, Devil's Island he quietly calls it, and claims it is an isle of vicious vampires with it's own King, for the true ruler of them all and the most ruthless, reigns in the central Misty mountains. Aren't all vampires? I ask him. He says only if their heart is vicious. His finger sways to the South-East and says a younger more modern vampire, a notorious recluse, lives at the top of the mountain and leads a smaller clan. It is rumored that his mind and heart are at war over humans and that is why he hides in the shadows until he must feed. The boy ends his navigational story of the monsters that circle us by telling me that somewhere, deep in the dark forest, unseen to the eye, there's a hidden realm called the Wander Woods, ruled by a twisted Faerie Queen. I want to laugh because all these things are not supposed to be real, but I cant I cry instead because I know after meeting Harker that they are very real and that I'm about to die. I'm not in Kansas anymore and no wizard will save me. This is another fairy tale. The dark one of Hansel and Gretel.

I see the castle. It almost touches the full moon from high upon the cliff. The wagon stops at the gates. All nine of us are clutching each other and screaming. The guards are poking us with poles and tell us to remain silent. Our breaths must be preserved. We are chained in a single file and led inside. I am first.

Myself and the two behind me are unchained. Thomas is one of them. Servants scurry up to us and drag us off. They mock us as we are primped and polished. They tell us the Queen will not eat what is ugly. I'm staring out the window into the brightly moonlit ocean. There's a giant vessel. Oh my god!! They're throwing the lifeless bodies of children overboard! I pee myself again. Luckily it buys me time but it shortens Thomas's and the other child's. They take them first as I am roughly and speedily cleaned up.

They take me up to the top of the sky scraping tower. The room is prodigious and round, lit by a fire pit in the center. A woman of golden hair, pinned up under a brass crown, stands at a mirror. Her back is to me. She is weeping. There's a man of short ivory hair at her side, holding her up and comforting her.

Time is running out brother. Where is the third child!!??

A grandfather clock echoes two chimes. It is 11:30.

She is here now sister.

The woman turns and stares at us. Her blue eyes are young but evil and her skin is aging. She wears an abundance of jewelry. Upon the ring and pinky finger of her left hand are a metal claws.

I accidentally gasp and she glares at me with a wicked smile. Her voice is soft but it makes my skin crawl. She tells me I will be saved for last since I am the heaviest. I don't understand.

She approaches Thomas. He's small, maybe 10 years old and stands only to my shoulders. I squeeze his hand as she squeezes his face in to a pucker. She tells him he has beautiful skin and likes how it shimmers of youth in the light. Her smile and her gaze turns dark.

Thomas's hand slips from mine as he is lifted by his face up to her face. His feet are kicking as he helplessly dangles in the air. I...I can't breathe. I can't watch. I squish my eyes shut as I hear a sucking noise and then a thud. My eyes pop open and Thomas lies still at her feet. His skin is all shriveled. A servant drags him away and the other child is brought forward by her face. It happens again. I still do no do not watch. I feel her approach me and then she speaks to me.

Open your eyes child. I must see all of you, closely. Every detail. You must be of perfection.

I can't stop myself from opening them. She looks different. Her skin is healing. She is stronger. Now I understand why I am last. Now I understand it all. She is eating our souls to feed and preserve her youth and power.

Ahhh yes. You will do just fine fair one.

She grabs me under my chin and lifts me from the ground. I feel paralyzed. I can't even kick my legs. Her grip is so tight, I am choking and it forces my mouth open. Her mouth opens, unrealistically wide and she begins to suck my soul into her body. I feel my skin tightening. I'm slowly imploding as the air in my lungs is sucked dry. Something else is happening. Something that is not supposed to. I see it in her widened eyes as he hand loosens it's grip. I feel my skin reforming and my breath returning. I see my soul's essence flow from her mouth, back into mine. It has a fiery color swirling in it that it didn't have before. It burns my chest and then becomes cool and tingly. She gasps for air and drops me.

She stumbles back into her brother's awaiting arms and her eyes are gaping mad as she watches me slowly sit up.

Ravenna, my sister, what is it??!! her befuddled brother asks as he too gapes at me.

Help me up Finn. Now!

She's assisted to her feet and she grabs a fistful of my hair as she screams at me.

How OLD are you!!!!!???

Again, I do not understand.

I...I...I am...f..ff...fourteen.

This cannot be! She merely looks 12!" the brother proclaims. "Harker would never send anyone over 13!

She glances at the clock. It is 5 minutes till midnight.

Give me one of the other children! Quickly!

A servant rushes off and comes back with a girl who looks no more than 8. Ravenna finishes her ritual with only seconds to spare. The clock then chimes twelve times as her youthful image is restored.

Ravenna is telling Harker's guards to have Harker return with her next shipment to answer for his mistake and send an extra child to replace me. They are not pleased. She is now ordering Finn to throw me in the sea with the other bodies, but he stops the guards and argues with her.

Sister. I cannot. You must send her back. She survived which means she still belongs to Harker. Not only will it now be considered taking from a warlock, but it is a rule of the spell Jadis has placed. You must never rid of a survivor. It is an omen. There will be consequences, for the girl has consumed some of your magic.

Damn that jealous woman!! It is the only reason she has done this to me!

Sister...I believe bedding the King Jasper was the cause. Look what she allowed Jareth to do to him and his men. You should consider yourself fortunate that Jareth wanted you alive.

Fortunate brother?!!! I had to pay this price to live!! Enough. Today is your lucky day little girl but do not think I will ever forget this, nor forgive it. With that said, you will remain here until Harker arrives to answer for this!!

Harker's men are angry as Finn is dragging me off. I am happy to have escaped death but I do not know what will happen to me now. I feel so desperate."

Jocelyn stopped and Haldir thought for a moment as her eyes remained a prisoner of his. Her story only darkened with the more she revealed and he knew she would remember all of this when he freed her of his mind manipulation and may be traumatized from it, but still...there was so much more he must extract from her memories, for even the simplest of information could be highly useful at some point and...she had all the answers to your questions of the past regarding Sarah and now even Lola and Narcisse were involved. They both were too close to you and Leeanduil, so it had to be done. He had come this far. There was no turning back now.

Haldir's dilated pupils pulsed as the thin ring of blue around them glowed like an eclipse.

He then spoke one word.

"Continue."

More tears rushed upon her flushed cheeks from her immobilized eyes as she obeyed his command.

"I am being locked in a dungeon, only it is not underground. It is in a tower. The door is grated iron. There is only one small window with no glass. It is so hot. There is no bed. I'm so tired. I fall instantly asleep on the filthy floor. My face is burning. I open my eyes and the sun is shining on me. It is morning. I am searching the room for something, anything to help me escape but there is nothing. I feel like I am suffocating. I need air.

I am climbing up to the window. If I could fit through, it would not matter. It has two iron bars in it and there is nowhere to go but hundreds of feet down to my death. It is all a rubble of rocks on the ocean's edge. I see something. What is...that?? It is a large loose iron nail. I...I think I can reach it. I am stretching my arm through the window. I...I've got it! But it's hard to pull and it's hot from the sun I assume. I'm pulling and pulling. It finally comes out. I am looking it over, thinking of what I can do with it. Maybe I can pick the l...oh god! Someone is coming!

I see Finn approaching with food. I'm hiding the nail behind my back as he comes in. Now I realize what I can do with it, but am I brave enough to try?? If I am caught, what will happen to me? I don't care. I have to get away. I don't like how he is looking at my breasts. It is now or never.

He is walking up to me. He touches my bare chest and licks his lips. I am shaking and becoming very angry. The nail is still hot. I cannot hold it anymore. I am clenching it tight and I...I swing the pointed edge at his face. It slices his cheek from his eye to his jaw. He is screaming and I am running out the door he left open. I don't know where I am going. I just keep running. I see an opening with light but when I get there, it is only a drop off to the ground.

I turn and run the other way. I hear Finn's voice and other guards nearby. Corner after corner. I keep going, looking for stairs. I find some and rush down them but now I...I am lost and even more desperate. I see a courtyard and more light coming from a small opening with water on the ground outside of it, but there are guards everywhere. They see me and begin shouting and chasing me and now I have no choice but to run to the hole. One of them almost catches me. I dive into the opening and I am now sliding right into a flooded drainage tunnel. I'm soaked and wading my way through it to the light. I crawl over the edge and I am now on the side of the cliff with nothing but the raging ocean below. They're coming through the water. I have no choice but to jump. I close my eyes tightly shut and force my feet forward. I'm falling. I plunge into the black sea of death. I think my heart has stopped beating.

I'm fighting the current, trying to swim up for air. It's pulling me in the opposite direction. I am going to drown. I can see the light above me. Is it the light we see when we die?

A strong surge pushes me up and I surface, gasping for breath. There are rocks. I cling to them while my lungs fill back up with air. I look up and see a pathway around the cliff.

I'm running again. There are horses tied to a post. I see guards in the distance relieving themselves. I sneak up and untie one of the horses. I have never ridden a horse. I am climbing on and horns begin blowing. The guards see me and begin racing towards me. The horse is startled and he gallops off. I don't know how to control him. He is heading towards the forest that I see in the far distance so I just hold on tight and pray.

I am nearing the forest and the horse stops so fast that I fall off. I see the guards coming. Lots of them. I try to climb back up but the horse moves to the side and shakes his head. He won't let me. Something is frightening him. I pull his reigns to get him to follow me into the forest but he lunges up on his back legs and neighs loudly, then runs off. I turn and run into the forest. I soon find out what the horse was scared of. I am in Ravenna's dark forest.

All the trees are dead. The air is murky and stinks. There's barely any light. I begin to run again when I hear the sound of something screeching. I fall and a mist of sparkles spray into my eyes. It's poison. I'm hallucinating. I keep going, stumbling, trying not to pass out. I fall into a stream and crawl through the mud to get out and now I'm laying on dead birds. There are figures in black cloaks, all watching me. Black beetles are crawling everywhere. Tar is seeping from the trees and dead plants. I am swarmed by bats. Is...is that a dragon or a...a gargoyle in the tree?? It flies down and strikes me with it's wings. Everything goes black.

I'm waking up. I don't know how long I have been here. I realize it has not been long because I hear the voices of guards. I run off to hide under a pile of brush. One of them walks by. I can see through the branches. It is one of Harker's men. I don't know which is worse, him or Ravenna's men.

I stay silent until I cannot see him anymore but he already knew I was there. He drags me out. I cannot free myself from his firm grip on my arm. Finn and three of his armed men come. The gash on his face is gone. I try to run but Harker's man pulls me close to him. Finn extends his hand to me and tells me to come.

I beg the warlock. No. NO! Please don't give me to him!

He holds his weapon out at Finn. Back away. The girl comes with me.

The Queen says otherwise. She has given you your orders warlock.

I do not answer to her. I have my orders. Any rejections go back to Harker. She still belongs to him. You said so yourself.

And she will. After the Queen speaks with him.

4 more of Harker's men show up. One speaks for all.

That is not how the arrangement goes. Your sister knows it. She has no authority to alter the rules. The girl survived. She will rightfully come with us. The Queen cannot be trusted not to harm her. Do you wish to jeopardize your sister's means of receiving what she needs? I know YOU are certainly not going to provide for her on a daily basis. You're merely a man, unlike Harker, and can only travel so far with limited time and resources, that being of the slim to no children in the area. Choose as you will, but we are taking her, with or without a fight.

Finn scowls at us and leaves with his men. I feel better with the outcome but I still fear for my life.

The warlock guards take me straight back to Harker. It is late in the day and they are on edge. I sense they fear his reaction for returning me. They are right to fear him. A wolf like growl escapes through his clenched teeth. His fingertips grow claws of bloody daggers.

I fearfully fall to my knees at his feet as the men push me towards him. They explain all that happened and he orders them to bring him my mother. They drag her down the hall of his trailer and force her to her knees beside me. We cling to each other, shaking and crying. He demands answers from my mother. He is pacing and snarling like a dog between his sentences.

You have been here one year. You know the routine, yet you fail to inform me of your spawn's age!

I...I...did not know it mattered my Master. I swear it!

If it did not matter, then I would give YOU to her!! You see ALL of the children here! Not a one, or so I believed, is over 13 years of age. It is forbidden! My brother is her King and he, along with the Queen will now believe I attempted to kill her! My camps could be raided by his armies of orcs, goblins and wendigos and if that happens, I will feed you and your offspring to them! You better say your little prayers that I can make Ravenna understand and that she was not harmed, for she is far more unforgiving than myself and my brother combined.

He is grabbing her by her hair and pulling her to her feet. Something is happening inside of me. A rage that I have never felt. My eyes uncontrollably dart to a shiny object on his desk as if I knew it was there and knew what it would do. It is a small silver dagger. I run to it. I take it and I spin around, slicing his hand that clenches her hair. He releases her and backs away. An indescribable scream, almost deafening, spews from his mouth with a visible steam like a piping hot tea kettle.

I am reprimanded by his men and the blade is taken. I'm ordered to be locked up in iron chains. I don't see Harker for 2 days. I am in a small cave chained by my ankle to a rock wall. My skin is burning under the shackle and I feel weak. I'm having horrifying dreams of Ravenna. I feel myself changing, internally and physically. I am remembering Finn's words, that I consumed some of her magic."

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