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breynekai-tfc · 3 years

Text

Number One Fan

Summary: Danny is injured during a ghost fight one night. Dash finds him, takes him home, and nurses him back to health.

Length: 7081 words

Part 2

Basically some meandering interactions between Dash and Phantom, with hints toward a one-sided attraction on Dash’s part. This is a two-shot; the second half will be up tomorrow.

Read on FF.net, AO3, or keep reading below.

He sucked up the puddle of arachnid into a Fenton Thermos. Holes littered the lawn around him where its feet had sunk into the spring soil, muddy and loose from three days’ worth of constant drizzle. ‘British weather’, his mom would have called it. Even now a light mist - heavier than fog but not substantial enough to be called rain - floated through the air. It had already coated Danny’s hair, face, and suit in a thin layer of condensation. The water ran over his face like sweat.

He was exhausted. If he had needed to breathe, he would have been panting. If he’d had a pulse, it would have been racing. Instead, his core ached dully, complaining of the expenditure of energy. His aura was not as bright as it should have been on this dark, misty, overcast night. Normally he would have been a beacon; right now he probably blended into his surroundings, giving off no more light than a will-o-the-wisp in a murky swamp.

And still, it wasn’t over.

After defeating a ghost and containing it in a Thermos, any ectoplasmic waste or byproducts it left behind should disintegrate and vanish. The Thermos completely sealed ectoenergy, thereby cutting off the core from any parts remaining in the world. But the Amity Park Public Library was still covered in a purple, pulsing tent of ghostly webbing.

Geez, he hoped there wasn’t another one.

Danny eyed the building. He wasn’t sure how long it had been sequestered like this. Presumably not much longer than it had taken for his ghost sense to explode out of his cold core, jolting him awake, and for him to race in the direction it pointed him. Five minutes later, he had discovered the library and the Godzilla-scale spider crouching on top of it.

He had no idea what time it was. He hadn’t checked the clock before flying off into the night.

It had been about eleven when he wrapped up his patrol earlier - a patrol which, ironically, had been entirely quiet. Goes to show what happens when you skimp on security duties because of bad weather, some mild discomfort from having to fly through a neverending curtain of damp. He wondered if he had stayed out a little longer if he could have intercepted the spider before it nested. Ghosts often tended to get a lot stronger when they were allowed to accomplish their objectives, drawing energy from the sheer satisfaction of fulfilling an obsession. Who knew how long it had been working before its sudden power boost triggered Danny’s ghost sense?

Danny squinted through the drizzle at the cloud cover, barely making out the position of the moon. Maybe three o’clock or after? He wasn’t sure how long it had taken him to beat the hairy, eight-legged behemoth. The fight had been tedious and drained his strength, but in all likelihood was shorter than it had felt.

He wasn’t sure he had actually defeated it.

His core twinging, he forced himself back into the air and drifted across the ruined lawn, across the parking lot, and to the side of the building. A feeling of unease filled him as he drew closer, the product of psychological wards woven into the strands of spider silk to scare away predators. Ignoring the way his core clenched and his skin crawled, Danny grit his teeth, turned intangible, and phased through the protective layer of webbing.

Inside, the dread atmosphere was even more overwhelming, hanging in the air like a miasma. Webbing draped over every surface and hung from the ceiling in loops and clumps, glowing a sickly shade of violet. It provided the only light in the building, and Danny’s own silver aura barely reflected back to him.

After nearly three years of being dead and fighting ghosts on a daily basis, Danny was rarely unnerved by the things he saw. But this was spooky, even to him. He shrugged and shook out his shoulders and arms, chalking up his feelings of trepidation to basic survival instincts, which were good things. He was tired, and his body knew it, and it was just sending signals to his brain to be careful. This was not actually all that frightening. Nope. Not frightening at all.

Danny floated further into the building, senses on high alert. The webbing stretched on and on, but nowhere did Danny see a creature who could have spun it. This was surely the work of the larger arachnid he had fought outside… right?

Danny reached the central help desk. It was a small unit of furniture - a U-shaped table, return bin, filing cabinets, and several computers with the library catalog system, all sitting in the middle of a wide and open space of carpet at the hub of the fiction and reference shelves. As Danny drifted towards it, he was so focused on looking and listening for an enemy on all sides that he floated straight into a web. Unlike the thick, goopy strands coating the rest of the building, this was a delicately woven oval suspended between the floor and ceiling. The kind of webs spiders built for catching prey.

He yelped and flung himself backwards, but the web followed him, snared him, snapped back into place with Danny still firmly attached to it. The webbing clung to his face, filling his eyes with violet light, inciting panic. He pulled at his arms, frantic to wipe the strands from his face, get them off of his body, but nothing was moving, he couldn’t budge, he was stuck, like a fly, and what did spiders do to flies…?

The realization of his own stupidity struck him like a slap in the face, and a split second later, he was intangible and shooting backwards, arms pinwheeling as he forced himself to a mid-air stop - before he blindly landed himself in a similar trap, or before he decided to phase through the roof of the building, call it a night, let another ghost hunter deal with this.

He wasn’t allowed to do that.

The leaden weights of responsibility wrapped around his body, draining the blind panic and replacing it with lucid determination. If Valerie or his parents were hurt because of some mess he failed to resolve, if one of them died, he would never be able to forgive himself, would never be able to claim the mantle of hero for the rest of his half-life. That reality was much more frightening than anything a ghost could throw at him.

As he centered himself, Danny noticed that the web he had just extracted himself from was vibrating, humming tautly, shivering from floor to ceiling. His eyes followed the anchoring strands of the web upwards. He groaned, and everything suddenly made sense.

On the ceiling, stretching from one wall to another and looking like a scene out of Femalien, were eggs, a hundred of them, violent purple and struck through by glowing green fissures like ichor. The spider he had faced outside of the library must have been their mother, and her objective had been finding a safe place to nest and lay her eggs. Having accomplished that, she was at her most ferocious when a certain human-ghost hybrid had shown up to threaten her children.

Danny had vaguely known that ghosts could reproduce - how else could he explain Box Lunch? But if this was seeing the miracle of ghost life in action, it was nothing he ever wished to see again.

The trembles from the web rippled through the eggs on the high ceiling of the library. First in the middle, expanding outwards in waves, the eggs began to wobble, began to crack with sharp snaps of verdant light. As he watched the first legs begin to poke through purple membranes, Danny realized why the oval-shaped web had been created. It would trap prey, and in thrashing for escape, whatever unfortunate creature (or person) was snared in the web would be ringing a dinner bell, telling the babies that it was time to wake up and have some breakfast.

The first of the brood had breached their cells and were dropping onto the floor. Deep black in color, struck through by ectoplasmic green striations, they were the size of large dogs, and they were fast. As soon as their myriad eyes found Danny, they began to leap at him.

Crying out, Danny flung up an ectoplasmic energy shield. The newborn spiders slammed into it, causing the shield to flare and for Danny’s core to tighten painfully. The shield broke within seconds, and the rush of arachnids slammed into him, knocking him to the floor.

Danny saw legs, flashes of black eyes with verdance burning deep within, and then pain like acid burst against his right shoulder, his stomach, his left leg. He screamed, feeling the bright acidic energy flowing into him, burning him from the inside as it bloomed across and underneath his skin. Distantly, he felt something soft drifting over him, light as snowfall but as firm as steel cables. It crossed his bleary vision, sickly purple.

The weights on his chest, his arms, his legs, were abruptly flung off of him. He was left staring at the ceiling, where spiders continued to crack their eggs and fall to the ground, but he could hear their hissing voices, impacts, sounds of tearing, squeals of pain, splashes of ectoplasm on carpet. The spider brood was fighting. Apparently there wasn’t enough of him to go around.

Danny could not move. His thoughts were blasted with hot green pain, eating through his limbs and leaving cold numbness in its wake. He knew he had been bitten, repeatedly. This was poison. His enemies were fighting for the chance to devour him. And he could not move.

The deadly, acidic pain trickled down from his shoulder and up from his stomach and danced around his core, which stubbornly burned it away. If not his body, at least his essence was refusing to go down without a fight.

The realization that he was going to die, really die, eaten alive and entirely helpless to do anything about it, galvanized him. He grunted, a strangled sound from deep in his chest. Then Danny pushed at his core. He had no confidence that he would be able to move his limbs to do a damned thing, but if his core was fighting, he would use it as his best asset. He concentrated on it with a singular intensity, blocking out the squall of the hungry spiders, blocking out his pain, willing his core to expand, explode if it needed to.

A different but familiar type of cold rushed through him. A split-second later, a blizzard burst from his awakened cold core, howling through the room and freezing everything in its path. It hit the walls and ceiling and windows, shrieking, and died away. In its wake - silence, like a winter’s night under a blanket of snow.

Icy energy crackled over his skin, momentarily halting the spread of the venom. Danny wanted nothing more than to close his eyes, succumb to the cold numbness of poison and frost. But the spiders weren’t gone, and the next prey they sought would be outside of the library with no weapons to defend themselves. This was a horde that could kill a town. Danny had to protect them.

With a Herculean effort, Danny sat up. The webbing laced over his body crackled and splintered to pieces. The room around him had been transformed into a glimpse of a modern-day Ice Age. Thick, supernaturally blue ice coated the library’s every surface, the spiders and their webs only barely visible in its bright but murky depths. Danny concentrated on moving his right hand, but it was entirely numb and dead to him. He switched to his left, fumbling for the Thermos that hung on his right side. He pulled the strap across his chest until the Thermos was sitting in his lap, wedged between his thighs for support. He unscrewed the lid, lifted it with one hand, braced it against his chest, and hit the button.

Blue light swirled from the softly whirring device, but with no target in its path, it simply dissipated into the air. Frowning, Danny channeled some of his own depleted power into the Thermos to influence its behavior. The light began to do what he wanted. It condensed above the checkout desk in a bright orb. Like a black hole, it began to absorb the ectoplasmic energy around it. Ice, webbing, spiders, everything ghostly in the room began cracking apart and flying into the focal point of the power, which in turn compacted and channeled the energy into the containment device. Danny felt it tugging on even him, but because of the nature of the energy fueling it, he was not swept up in the maelstrom of deconstruction.

No more than a minute later, the room was cleared. Danny snapped the lid back on the Thermos, and everything went dark. Without the ice or webbing, there was little to illuminate the library. After a few seconds, as his eyes adjusted, the room clarified under the soft orange glow of the street lamps outside.

Danny’s core felt like stretched taffy, or a threadbare cloth. It felt like if he were to exert any more pressure on it, it would snap or implode in on itself. Danny was surprised he hadn’t reverted to his human form yet.

He glanced down at himself. He couldn’t see the bite on his shoulder, but he could see the ones on his abdomen and his left leg. Four punctures, holes left in his jumpsuit, roughly the size of nickels. They oozed something green, which Danny might have mistaken for his own ectoplasm if not for the fetid feeling the ooze gave off. Danny wasn’t sure what the poison would do to him, if it was meant to paralyze him or kill him or turn his insides into goo. Already it was fighting his cold core to continue its inextricable path through his body.

A certainty settled over Danny, based on no evidence but his own gut feelings: if he returned to human form, with this poison coursing through him, it would be the end of him.

Sick with dread, Danny fell forward, planting his left arm against the floor, dragging his right leg underneath him, pushing to standing. He nearly toppled over again. His left leg from the knee down was numb, and it barely supported his weight. Danny only managed to walk by rocking onto it and back to his right leg before his knee had the chance to buckle. He did not dare fly.

Danny reached the door and opened it by hand. The webbing that had covered the building earlier was gone, destroyed with the capture of the spider brood. Dazed, Danny hobbled into the parking lot and across the lawn.

He had to get home to Fentonworks. His parents would have something in their lab that could get him through this, preserve his ghost half long enough for it to fight off the poison. Maybe, if he gave himself an injection of purified ectoplasm it would bolster the energy in his core, or maybe he could just toss himself into the Ghost Zone and absorb the atmospheric ectoenergy there.

He had to get home.

He had to walk there.

How many miles was it?

Danny stumbled down the sidewalk in a haze of existential terror and pain. The poison had begun to sludge through him again, climbing his thigh, spreading across his back, filling his chest. He began to feel light-headed, and the edges of his vision were filling with shadows. His feet jerked him forward numbly, but he had no perception of actually moving.

His left knee buckled, and Danny fell to the ground. He tried to catch himself with his hands, but they didn’t respond to the commands from his brain. His chin throbbed dully where it hit concrete.

Danny lay with his chest against the ground, arms limp at his sides, face turned toward the grass. Moisture pooled in his eyes and trickled out of the corners. If he’d had the energy for it, he might have been sobbing. But his upper body was numb, and so was most of the rest of him. Cotton wrapped around his head.

He was dimly aware of sounds: the crunch of tires over asphalt, the slamming of a car door, a shout. His body was turned over, presumably by a person. Danny’s vision was too full of shadows to see who it was.

After that, there was nothing.

---------

Dash had woken to the sound of his PhanClub Ghost Spotters app shouting, “I am the Box Ghost! Beware!”

Blearily, he grabbed his phone off the bedside table and swiped to unlock it. His eyes scanned the notification, picking out key words: public library, giant spider, literally it’s as big as a house, level 5 apparition or higher. It was 2:36 a.m.

Dash groaned, letting the hand holding his phone drop onto the mattress next to his pillow. He was too tired to deal with a fucking ghost spider halfway across town. He had school tomorrow, and besides that, it was a fucking ghost spider. He had no plans of being eaten.

He was nearly back to sleep when his phone nagged him again. “I am the Box Ghost! Beware!” Against his better judgement, Dash brought the screen back up.

2:41 - Phantom is engaging the spider. #IRememberEmber58

And like that, he was wide awake, sitting up in bed and staring at the notification.

It was a long shot. It would take him about fifteen minutes to get to the library, not including the time it took for him to get dressed, sneak downstairs to his car, and actually hit the road. There was a chance Phantom would be long gone by the time he got there.

But…

He was already moving, pulling on sweats and a hoodie, cramming his feet into sneakers that already had the laces tied.

But a level 5 apparition was tough, and a spider the size of a house was a new enemy. It might put up a real fight. If Dash got there in time, he would not only be able to catch a glimpse of his hero in action, but he would also be able to get some new material for his scrapbook. Grabbing his Fenton Camera (the only camera on the market with film and lenses specifically designed to capture ectoplasmic radiation), Dash crept out of his room.

His parents were heavy sleepers. Besides, he was seventeen, and the probability of him getting in trouble for going out at night was extremely low, even if he was caught. As long as he was on track for his scholarship, his parents hardly cared what he did. But Dash was still careful to move quietly through the house. Encountering his folks would waste precious time.

Shortly, he was out the front door, crossing the driveway to the curb, and climbing into his black convertible - top up, because of the absolute crap weather lately. He turned the key in the ignition, put it into gear, and sped out into the silent streets of Amity Park.

In the two and a half years since the PhanClub had been founded, many members had joined, and many of them had since become inactive. Everyone in town - except the Fentons and a few other diehards - had accepted that Phantom was a bona fide hero. No one had abandoned him in that sense. But after two and a half years of seeing Phantom kick ghost butt around town, the ghostly hero had lost his novelty for a lot of people, who then moved onto other things. There were very few members left who, like Dash, were willing to hop out of bed in the middle of the night to drive to ghost fights and take pictures. Most members had either muted their nighttime notifications or gotten rid of the Ghost Spotters app entirely.

Dash considered himself Phantom’s number one fan. He wore the badge with pride and contested it with anyone who tried to claim it (though very few bothered anymore). Sure, there were others on the Ghost Spotters app, like IRememberEmber58, who posted every ghostly encounter they came across, but these guys were “ghostakus” - they were in it for the ghosts, all ghosts, any ghosts. Some Ghost Spotters even supported the local bad guys. Ghosts like Ember, Technus, even the freaking Box Ghost had fans, and many Ghost Spotters would take bets on ghost fights, not over who would win - that was always Phantom - but how long their favorite ghost could escape the Fenton Thermos.

There was even a trading card game… okay, Dash collected those, too. They were pretty cool.

But for Dash, there was only one reason to be in the Ghost Spotters, and that was to be alerted of every appearance of Danny Phantom possible. Watching Phantom in action, risking his life to selflessly protect the people of Amity Park, displaying awesome feats of power, and doing it all with a good sense of humor - it never got old, and Dash didn’t think it ever would.

Dash drove to the library at however many miles over the speed limit he could get away with. Every few minutes, the Ghost Spotters app would light up with a new notification. Dash grabbed his phone and glanced at them:

2:50 - Spider is down. I repeat, spider is down. #IRememberEmber58

2:51 - Vestigial ghost matter on library not disappearing. Phantom looks wary. #IRememberEmber58

2:52 - Phantom entering library. Ghost fight part deux? #IRememberEmber58

2:58 - Webbing on library vanished. May be over people. #IRememberEmber58

Dash growled. He was so close, but it looked like this was going to be a waste of time after all.

At last, the public library rose in Dash’s sight down the road. Like IRememberEmber58 had indicated, everything seemed quiet. Dash figured he ought to drive by anyway, see the damage, maybe catch a glimpse of Phantom flying away, make sure this wasn’t a complete fucking waste of time.

As he pulled up along the eastern side of the library, Dash’s phone went off one more time.

3:01 - Phantom emerging from library - on foot? Probability of injury high. #IRememberEmber58

Dash blinked at the notification. He took his foot off of the pedals, letting his car cruise slowly down the road, all while he squinted through the damp on his windshield towards the front of the library.

There. At the end of the parking lot, cutting across the grass toward the sidewalk a few hundred feet down the road from Dash’s car. Phantom’s aura was so weak that he barely stood out from his misty surroundings. He was limping, on the ground - the actual ground. Dash could see that his right arm was hanging at his side like dead weight and that his head was down, like all of his attention was on putting one foot in front of the other.

This was not good.

Fear wound its cold fingers around Dash’s heart and squeezed. Dash had never seen his hero in such bad shape; even when he lost battles, it was because the other ghost would get away, not because they actually defeated him in combat. Nervous, unsure of what he should be doing, Dash let his car keep coasting down the road so that he could follow Phantom, make sure he got to where he was going okay.

Phantom reached the sidewalk, Dash following a few yards behind. The ghost’s steps were slowing, and he was not walking in a straight line.

All of a sudden, one of Phantom’s knees gave out and he fell over face-first onto the ground.

He did not get up again.

“Shit!” said Dash. His foot slammed down on the accelerator, and his car leaped forward before he managed to slam his foot on the brake. He was out of his car a second later, running around the front of it, falling onto his knees by Phantom’s head.

“Phantom!” he cried out. “Hey man, are you okay?”

Phantom did not respond, did not move. He lay on the wet sidewalk in front of Dash completely inert, damp hair hanging over the half of his face that was turned upward. A Fenton Thermos, strapped over his left shoulder, lay in the small of his back, its indicator pulsing red.

Dash brought up his hands, and they hung in the air over Phantom’s back, shaking. He was hesitant to reach out and touch his idol. He had not been this close to Phantom since the time at Fentonworks back in his freshman year, when they had both been shrunk by some loony Fenton invention and had to fight Skulker to get back to their normal sizes. A true team-up, and Phantom hadn’t spoken to him since. Instead, Phantom had gone on to become even more powerful, defeating huge and impossible foes, rising to a place Dash could never hope to be, probably forgetting all about Dash in the process. Dash didn’t deserve to be this close to Phantom, not anymore.

But Phantom was in trouble, and Dash was all the help he had. It looked like, after two whole years, it was time for another team-up.

As Dash grabbed Phantom’s rain-slick, icy-cold shoulders to turn him over, he did not feel excited about the prospect at all; rather, he felt sick to his stomach.

Phantom weighed basically nothing. It was the easiest thing in the world to roll him onto his back, and Dash half-expected the ghost to dissolve into nothing in his fingers. Once he was on his back, Phantom’s head lolled against Dash’s knees. His eyes were open, dull green rather than the bright, vivid neon they should have been, staring blankly ahead at nothing. Dash saw trails of some silvery moisture coming out of the corners of his eyes, mingling with the rain, and he realized that they were ectoplasmic tears.

“Phantom…?” he whispered. Phantom did nothing to indicate he had heard Dash. The muscles in his face hung slack, and he wasn’t breathing - shit, he wasn’t breathing! But did ghosts even need to breathe? Did they even have lungs?

Could they die?

“Calm the fuck down, Baxter,” he told himself. “He’s not dead. He can’t be. He’s just hurt bad, real bad.” He glanced over Phantom’s body, looking for the injury that had put his hero in such a terrible state. What he saw were six small holes in his jumpsuit, in pairs, two on his right shoulder, two on his stomach, two on his lower left leg, all oozing a sickly green substance. Now that he looked more closely, Dash noticed veins of the same color, branching under the skin on Phantom’s neck where it rose out of the collar of his jumpsuit, curling over his jawline towards his cheeks like emerald lightning bolts.

“What the…” Dash murmured. Then it hit him. Phantom had been fighting a spider. These were spider bites.

Without thinking, Dash reached out his right hand and touched the green stuff oozing from Phantom’s shoulder, just above his collarbone. Immediately he recoiled - it felt like it had stung him! And it kept stinging him, burning him as if he had stuck his fingers into a vat of acid. Dash stared at his fingers in horror. His forefinger and middle finger had two small drops of venom on their tips, and even as he watched, it absorbed into his skin, snaking down through his fingers in bright green lightning bolts of poison.

Dash screamed, kicking away from Phantom, staring at his burning hand. The venom crept down his fingers, into his palm, where finally the green veins tapered to nothing. The sensation of burning sunk into a deep cold, and then into complete numbness. Dash tried to move his fingers; his thumb, ring finger, and pinkie only twitched, and the two that had touched the poison would not respond at all. The muscles in his wrist and at the base of his thumb ached dully. Turning his hand over, Dash saw more lightning bolts pulsing on the back of his hand.

“Fuckfuckfuck.” What had just happened? What was he supposed to do with this?

His eyes were back on Phantom. Whatever had just gotten on Dash’s fingertips, Phantom was full of it. No wonder he wasn’t moving. The dude needed help.

Dash clambered back to his feet, careful of his right hand. He opened the back door of his car, then turned around and, with extreme caution to avoid touching the spider venom again, lifted Phantom into his arms. One arm under the ghost’s knees, one under his back, Dash carried Phantom to his car and gently laid him in the backseat. The weakness of Phantom’s aura was even more apparent in the darkness inside the car.

Dash slammed the door shut and climbed back into the driver’s seat. His Ghost Spotter’s app went off again. Thinking that there might be another ghost around, Dash checked the message and scowled.

3:08 - Phantom abducted by strange black vehicle. Probably the feds. Good luck, ghost boy. #IRememberEmber58

Dash had no clue where IRememberEmber58 was watching the library from. Regardless, he rolled down the window, stuck his hand out, and flipped the dweeb off.

Dash put his right hand over the gearshift but could not clutch it to put the car in drive. Awkwardly, he used his left hand to shift gears. Driving home, his right hand was hooked in the steering wheel at the wrist to help in steering as much as possible. He sure hoped the numbness wasn’t permanent. That was his throwing hand.

On the way back to his house - and was that really the best place to take Phantom but he couldn’t go to a hospital and the Fentons wanted to gut him so screw it Dash’s house was as good a place as any - Dash kept an eye on Phantom in the back seat. There was no outward change in his condition, which could have been good or bad for all Dash knew. The green venom leaking from the bites and glowing under his skin was the brightest thing about the ghost, who could almost be mistaken for human at this point.

Dash speeded all the way home, and it still took too long. As soon as his car was on the curb, Dash cut the engine, leapt out of the vehicle, and got Phantom out of the backseat. He ran with the ghost, who couldn’t have weighed more than twenty pounds, up the driveway to the front door. Dash had to shift Phantom, drape him on his stomach over Dash’s shoulder, so that he could get his key out and get the door open. Once they were inside, Dash carried Phantom up the stairs, praying to God that his parents didn’t choose now to wake up.

At the top of the stairs, Dash began to feel a biting pain in his right shoulder, underneath where Phantom was laying on top of him. Clenching his teeth against an expletive, Dash hurried down the hall, into his bedroom, to the bathroom attachment. He shut the door, turned on the light, and hurriedly deposited Phantom in the bathtub. Stepping back to the counter, Dash looked in the mirror and was horrified to see that some of the venom from Phantom’s stomach had seeped into his hoodie. Crying out, he frantically yanked the hoodie off and threw it into the corner.

Turning back to the mirror, Dash watched three small fireworks of ectoplasmic venom sparking across his right shoulder. The bitter cold sensation sank deep into his muscles, and by the time the numbness set in, Dash was not surprised to find that he couldn’t lift his arm. With his hand already out of commission, the only thing he could do was bend his arm, weakly, at the elbow.

Dash gripped the countertop with his left hand and leaned forward until his forehead was resting on the cool surface of the mirror. Things were fucked, and he knew it. His hero was laying in his bathtub, possibly dead. Dash himself had been poisoned by a giant ectoplasmic spider he hadn’t even seen, and who knew what kind of messed up shit this was going to do to him?

He had no idea how to help either of them. He was just Dash Baxter, high school quarterback. He wasn’t smart enough to be useful to anyone in an emergency, not even himself.

He forced himself to take several deep breaths. He reminded himself that he might not have been the best help for Phantom, but he was the only help the hero had. Dash had to do something. For all the times Phantom had saved his life and the lives of everyone in Amity Park, he had to do something.

Not looking at Phantom - not yet - Dash went back into his bedroom. He dug around in his closet until he found the lime green raincoat his grandma had bought for him on his last birthday, which was so ugly that he had never worn it. Awkwardly, he shrugged it on, using his left hand to grab his right and drag the right arm into a sleeve. Then he went back downstairs into the kitchen, where he grabbed a pair of rubber gloves from under the sink that his mom used to wash dishes. He hoped that this would be enough.

Back upstairs in the bathroom, wearing the raincoat and rubber gloves, Dash finally looked at Phantom in the tub. The ghost looked even worse under the bright LED lighting. His glow was essentially nonexistent, his normally tanned complexion was sallow, and his dulled green eyes continued to stare into nothingness. Phantom’s white hair was plastered to his head with the moisture from outside, and his suit was wet with water and smears of toxic venom.

Dash had to get the venom out of Phantom. The question was - how?

Dash sat down cautiously on the edge of the tub. With his left hand, he pushed Phantom into a more comfortable position, sitting propped against one end of the basin. He grabbed the strap of the Fenton Thermos and pulled it over Phantom’s head before setting the surprisingly heavy contraption on the floor behind the toilet; Dash knew what was inside, and he wasn’t about to unleash a house-sized spider monster because he accidentally kicked the thing.

Turning back to Phantom, he experimentally touched some of the venom on Phantom’s leg with his glove, half expecting the ectoplasm to eat through the material. It didn’t, and Dash heaved a sigh of relief.

Using his left hand, Dash tried pinching the skin and muscles of Phantom’s shoulder to squeeze some of the poison out, but between the rubber of his glove and the slick material of Phantom’s jumpsuit, it was impossible to get a hold. Really, the jumpsuit needed to go.

Dash flushed red at the thought. Was he really sitting here, thinking about undressing his hero…? His eyes found the little zipper at the top of the neck, and Dash gulped. A second later, he was berating himself. “You’re being an idiot. Just take the damn suit off so you can help him.” He reached out, grabbed the zipper, and pulled.

Dash soon discovered it was a chore and a half to use one hand to undress another guy who was completely limp, and any excitement he might have felt at the task quickly evaporated. It was several minutes before Dash had Phantom out of his gloves, boots, and jumpsuit, which he piled in a heap on the floor next to the tub, leaving Phantom in nothing but his white undies.

Like the patterning on Phantom’s neck, the rest of his body was covered in zigzagging bolts of pulsing emerald poison, especially concentrated around the three weeping bite wounds. Dash felt sick looking at it, and he hoped Phantom wasn’t conscious underneath that blank expression.

Dash turned on the bathtub faucet and ran the water until it was lukewarm. Phantom showed no reaction to the liquid sloshing around his legs, but Dash had not expected him to. Dash figured room temperature was the best bet - he didn’t want to burn the ghost, but he didn’t think cold water would be good for someone with spider bites, even if ghosts were naturally cold. Thinking about that, Dash rinsed his left glove in the faucet and then used his teeth to tug it off of his hand. He then laid the back of his hand against Phantom’s forehead.

It was warm. Human warm. Dash had been grabbed by enough ghosts in his life to know that Phantom should have felt as cool as the inside of a freezer. Phantom’s heat now must have been the ghostly equivalent of a fever.

On second thought, Dash cut the heat to the faucet entirely.

He used his teeth to pull his glove back on, grabbed a clean towel from under the sink, took down the showerhead, and turned the hose on. Dash used the showerhead to rinse the globs of venom from Phantom’s wounds. Then he set the hose down near the drain and began pinching the punctures, starting with the ones on Phantom’s shoulder. Venom ran from them freely, running in viscous rivulets over Phantom’s chest. Dash stopped every few seconds to hose Phantom off, sending the toxic - probably radioactive - ectoplasm down the drain to be carried far away from the Baxter home.

Dash pushed against the wound until he was sure Phantom would have bruises, and it kept offering him venom. It was not until several minutes later when the green liquid oozing from the wound lost its visceral feeling of venom and turned into a much more neutral shade of green. It was the strangest thing. The two types of ectoplasm - the spider venom and Phantom’s ‘blood’ - were almost identical to the naked eye. Dash only knew that the venom had turned to ectoplasmic lifeblood when his gut stopped screaming at him about the wrongness of the liquid he was seeing.

Dash repeated this process on the other two punctures. By the time he finished, Dash noticed that some of the bolts of venom across Phantom’s skin had begun to lose their intensity. That was good. Dash had actually been able to do something.

He rinsed Phantom off one last time from head to feet and then turned off the water. Dash patted Phantom dry the best he could considering the ghost was sitting in a damp tub in soaked underwear. Tossing aside the towel with the rest of the discarded clothing, Dash bent down, slid his left arm under Phantom’s back, managed to hook his right arm under the ghost’s legs, and lifted him out of the tub. He was thankful that Phantom weighed next to nothing, otherwise his mostly paralyzed right arm would not have been able to support his weight.

Dash carried Phantom back to his bedroom and laid Phantom in his bed. The covers were already thrown back from when Dash had gotten his Ghost Spotters alert an hour earlier. Complexion drained, eyes staring vacantly at the ceiling, hair damp, veins etched in poison - Dash’s hero looked so small and helpless. It made Dash want to hold him. Either that, or cry.

He did neither. Instead, he stripped off his gloves and raincoat, which he put in the bathroom with the rest of the contaminated articles of clothing. He went back to his closet and pulled out a pair of pajamas from the bottom of a bin. They were his favorite pair from when he was in junior high but had no longer fit him once he got taller and bulked up in high school. Warm red flannel, patterned with brown teddy bears wearing cozy-looking scarves - the only person outside of his family who had seen these was Kwan, who was sworn to secrecy. But they had been the best, especially during the winter or when Dash had been sick, the times when it was important to feel comfortable. They would probably fit Phantom.

Averting his eyes, feeling his face burning, Dash peeled Phantom’s soaked underwear off, dropped them on the carpet, and immediately put the ghost boy’s legs in his red flannel pajama pants. The hero’s modesty preserved, Dash pinched the underwear between two of his fingers, took them to the bathroom, and hung them over the shower curtain rail to dry. They hung there innocuously, glowing faintly - ghost undies.

Back in his bedroom, Dash wrestled Phantom’s upper half into the pajama top. His estimate had been mostly right - Phantom was a little too tall and his arms too long for the pajamas, by about an inch, but otherwise the pjs fit him. Phantom was pretty small.

The veins of venom on the ghost boy’s face had retreated past his jawline and were not glowing so fiercely. Now that the rest of the ones on his body were hidden from sight, he looked a lot better, although it was strange to see the hero wearing Dash’s favorite childhood pajamas, laying in his bed. A strange flutter tickled in Dash’s stomach and flitted into his heart. He was blushing again.

Gingerly, Dash pulled the blankets over Phantom up to his chin and tucked them around him. Even more gingerly, trying not to draw comparisons between this paralyzed ghost and a dead body, Dash touched two fingers to Phantom’s eyelids and closed them. If - no, when Phantom recovered from the spider poison, it wouldn’t hurt him to get a few hours of sleep… assuming ghosts slept.

Dash preemptively texted his parents, letting them know that he was sick and would be staying home from school that day. He hadn’t had a sick day since last school year, so he knew they would take him at his word. To be safe, he locked his bedroom door.

He pulled his computer chair over to the side of the bed and slumped into it. His numb right arm lay in his lap, paralyzed, the green lightning bolts on his hand as harsh and virulent as when they first appeared. He tried not to think about it. Instead, he sat up, determined to watch over his hero through the rest of the night.

-----

Part 2 -->

#tfc writes #danny phantom #dash baxter #pre-swagger-bishie #protective!dash #injured danny #here be spiders

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lettrespromises · 4 years

Text

la querelle des coeurs. - kuroo, atsumu, daichi.

@luveranime sent a letter : ❝ Me again lmao 😂 could you do one where kuroo, atsumu and daichi’s s/o has a ex best friend and they try to take their bf away from their s/o but then their s/o like angrily lashes out? Then like a cute fluffy ending :) ❞

author’s letter : ❝ aaaaa, it’s always pleasure to see you in my inbox!! thank you so much for trusting me with all your prompts, it means the world. ooooh, i love myself some angst to fluff especially with kuroo. i hope you’ll enjoy your promised letter!

sealed with a kiss. sincerely yours, nikki. ❞

genre : kinda fluff, kinda angst. warnings : cursing, toxic friendship.

Now, now, now, Kuroo like the gorgeous scorpio he is has some kind of sixth sense when it comes to lies, basically, you could consider him as a human lie detector. This talent of his extends to being able to discern people’s true nature- given that he is someone who doesn’t trust people easily, he’s even more careful around people he doesn’t deem as trustworthy.

Truth be told, he doesn’t come as a surprise to him when you tell him that you had a succession of arguments with your best friend, to the point where you felt obligated to cut ties with them.

You can tell from miles away that the sentence “I don’t want to say I told you so, but I told you so, kitten.” is burning the tip of his tongue, begging him to be set free so he could rub his pseudo sixth sense in your face.

From now on, Kuroo morphs into ‘super protective mode’, he just wants to protect you from any emotional harm, he knows how vicious your former best friend is, after all, he always knew.

He will walk with you everywhere, cradle you into his embrace if you feel the need to shed a couple of tears- he picks up the shattered pieces of your broken self and glues them one by one and seals them with a kiss or a heartfelt compliment.

After several days, Kuroo’s efforts and dedication to make you feel better finally sets in. Your introspection sunk in and you feel the aftereffects bloom- you feel fearless, powerful, and you came to agree with yourself on stating that you are indeed better off alone.

The plot twists in the hallways of your school- your arm is wrapped around Kuroo’s, just the way you like it. His orbs never leave you frame and anyone could tell how the gleam in his eyes reflect his love and adoration for you.

Needless to say, his favorite time of the day was when he could have lunch with you and listen to your ramblings while observing your divine traits. However, being academically smart doesn’t prevent him from being a airhead at times : “Kitten, I totally forgot to grab myself something to drink. Will you wait for me at our spot? I’ll be quick.” “You already know where to find me then, Tetsu.”

And with that, he leaves you in the middle of the hall (but not before planting a peck on your forehead.) On his way to the vending machine, he sees none other than your former best-friend, body leaning onto said vending machine, as if they were waiting for him to come out after witnessing your discussion.

The plain expression plastered upon Kuroo’s facial expression speaks louder than a thousand words revolving around the lexical field of anger. Nonetheless, he tells himself that if he ignores them, then there will be no harm done, unless...

“Hey there, Kuroo. I knew you’d miss me! Don’t worry, baby, I missed you just as much.”

The person you once called your best friend orientates their body in a strategic way so they’re closer to Kuroo, their whole body facing him. Of course, he didn’t miss the poor attempts to get him to pay attention to them. Their whole body language screamed ‘acknowledge me.’

Kuroo remained stoic and pushed the coins inside the vending machine instead. This lack of attention only emphasized their anger and in return, their level of patience diminished gradually. But they had another ace hidden in their sleeve, and this time, attitude matched their actions- your former best friend grabbed the hem of Kuroo’s collar while their other hand was planted at the back of his neck to force him to look on what they deemed as the only important person here.

“Kuroo, baby, I’m so glad you came to see me, because let’s face it : you’re only here because you know you’d see me here. Have you finally realized that Y/N was not good enough for you? You want a real significant other, don’t you?”

If hearing the sound of their voice was disgusting enough, imagine how filthy Kuroo felt when he sensed a foreign body throw themselves on him- his skin was burning under the poisoning touch of your former best friend.

Now, now. The ‘you’ topic was quite the sensitive one to Kuroo, given that he would and could put anyone in their place if he happened to hear a ill word about you. “I’m going to say this once : don’t play a game you can’t win so don’t say another thing about Y/N.”

Oh, but would this stop them? Absolutely not. Their hand travelled from the back of their neck to the muscular reliefs on his chest, an area only you had the luxury you to touch and worship. “Don’t be like that, Kuroo. I know I can touch you, love you and at least I won’t fake it like Y/N does.” they concluded their sentence with a wink sent his way and Kuroo could already feel the taste of vomit invading his tastebud.

In one sharp motion, he grabbed their wrist and yanked himself free of their intoxicating clutch. Just his luck, he thought, while your former best friend cursed silently under their breath as they saw you arrive.

“Tetsu, are you okay? What’s taking you so long?”

Oh and here it was, the pure grin which radiated nothing but pure mischief- your presence signed the end and what a beautiful ending it was for him. “Maybe you should ask them, kitten. They were rambling about how I should date them instead of you. Can you believe that bullshit?”

Your eyes darted onto a familiar frame, but just by glancing at them, you felt all the inner rage overwhelm you, including all the pain you had to go through. It was like facing your own nightmare, but you’ve never been alone to fight your battles- Kuroo has always been there by your side.

“You said what now?”

Your stare emanated nothing but pure and intense rage, your whole body language testified of your inner envy to make them choke on their own words.

“I said-...”

“If you think for a single second I’m going to let you talk, you’re dead wrong. You’ve been feeding me enough lies during all this time we were ‘friends’, and now, you’re throwing yourself on my man? You really have nothing for you, do you now? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go grab lunch with my boyfriend. I’m not sure you’ve ever heard of him but his name is Kuroo Testurou, you know, the man you’ll never get?”

Kuroo couldn’t help but to let a snicker break free from his lips, this scene was wonderful to watch. An immense wave of pride washed over him, and it struck him again, he realized for the umpteenth time how lucky he was to share his life with you.

He wrapped his arm around your waist, tugging you close to his side and delivered a peck full of love upon the flesh of your cheek. “I didn’t know you had all of this hidden in you, kitten. Not gonna lie, it’s kinda hot.”

You playfully rolled your eyes and punched his arm as his words connected with your eardrums, “You’re so lucky I love you.”

“Don’t get it twisted, kitten, I’m lucky one here.”

“Are not.”

“Are too.”

“Are not.”

It’s safe to say that Atsumu does have a reputation that follows him around, he his the local heartthrob of his school and he secretly takes pride in that. But nothing fills his heart with pride more than being able to call you his.

Being Atsumu’s girlfriend, you are indirectly exposed to threats, insults and other acerbic remarks coming from his fangirls. Sometimes these attacks are direct like dirty talks behind your back when you’re holding his hand in the middle of the halls, and other times, it’s more subtle and the perfect example of that is how the person you used to call your best friend took advantage of your relationship status to get closer to Atsumu.

They made it clear and had no shame hiding behind their shameful shenanigans, “Did you really think I was talking to you for your personality? Get real, Y/N, I don’t care about you. I only care about your man.”

These subtle shenanigans hurt the most because they were the most vicious and purposefully hurtful, and the worst part was that they had somehow managed to become friends with Atsumu. Emphasis on the word ‘somehow.’

As per usual after school, both you and Atsumu could be found at the gym, and oh boy, did he love being able to see you everyday- not only at school but also at the gym as you were the manager of the volleyball team.

However, this time, you had quite the surprise when you entered the gym. Kita had asked all the players to gather up as he explained them the new change amongst the team : “Considering that the nationals are around the corner, the coach and I stated that it was necessary for us to hire a new manager in order for Y/N not to feel overwhelmed. Please welcome your new manager and take good care of them.”

As his words echoed in the gymnasium, you felt your stomach sink to your heels, your mouth was set agape under the overwhelming feeling of pure disgust. Not them, out of all people. Hell, even Atsumu’s worst fangirl sounded like a better idea right now.

Of course you couldn’t blame Kita for choosing your former best friend as the new manager, but the glance Atsumu threw your way testified of how much he knew this situation was going to eat you up alive.

After the captain dismissed everyone, Atsumu wasted no time and ran up to you, he felt the need to reassure you and make you feel at ease despite the venomous presence of your former best friend.

“Cheer up, baby, ya’ know I’m here, right? This pig isn’t gonna’ get a piece of me. Now, be a doll and gimme’ a kiss.”

Classic Atsumu right here, but who were you to deny such a sweet request? So you did as told, and planted a kiss on his plump lips. And that’s when you could pinpoint the precise moment when your former best friend had fallen right into Atsumu’s trap.

“As your new manager, I have to say that it’s not very professional to kiss your significant other on the court. But, I mean, what else did I expect coming from Y/N?”

Your boyfriend’s arm was protectively wrapped around your waist, tugging you closer. The root of each of his action was to protect you from the incoherent and toxic words dropping from their lips. But deep down, he knew better than to mess with you, especially when the whole team was looking at you.

“Oh, I’m sorry! Did you mean do this?”

There you went again, planting yet another kiss upon Atsumu’s lips who couldn’t help but grin at the taunting nature of your actions. Once you broke the kiss, you could feel the hot breaths of your boyfriend crashing upon your skin “That’s my girl.”

Your former best friend looked around in despair, her eyes scanned the room to seek for help, to back up her actions. Osamu let a small laugh fall free from his lips, Suna rolled his eyes so hard you thought they were going to get stuck at the back of his head, and Kita, out of all people, let out a desperate sigh. “As the captain of the team, I must inform you that it is my duty to let you know that you cannot dictate your way here, and you cannot display a clear lack of respect to Y/N.”

This time, it was their time to be dumbfounded and left in the middle of the gymnasium with their mouth set agape in pure surprise. The silence, although it was broken by a few playful laughs, was agonizing to them.

“C’mon, new manager, tell ‘em why ya’ chose to come here.” Atsumu taunted, the smirk plastered upon his face as wide as ever, but he only found silence as an answer.

“Are you sure you don’t want to tell the rest of the team? Alright then. Maybe you should tell them how you only joined our team to flirt with Atsumu knowing very well that we’re dating, what kind of person that makes you, mh?” Each word pronounced was embedded with venom of your own, and deep down, exposing the true nature of your former best friend brought some sense of satisfaction. And thus you began reading out loud each text they had sent you, justifying their one-sided reason to join the team, only to flirt with Atsumu.

“Yeah, ya’ ain’t slick! Sorry to break it to ya’ but I ain’t into snakes.” Atsumu continued, sticking his tongue out before the still dumbfounded personification of a snake.

Pure embarrassment consumed them, the more they were staying amongst the deafening silence of their sour loss, the more they felt vulnerable and the more they realized they lost their own game. The stares of the whole team became agonizing, so agonizing that they felt obligated to leave the gym, head hung low in defeat.

“Byeee! Ya’ won’t be missed!” Your boyfriend concluded his sentence by imitating the hissing sounds of snakes, and you wondered why you were dating a man-child. Nonetheless, knowing very well he couldn’t get his hands off of you and craved for a physical touch at all times, he pressed his lips against yours once more. “I ain’t into snakes but ya’ could s-s-s-s-slide your way into my heart, baby.” and with that, Osamu hit the back of his twin’s head with a volleyball.

Maybe he deserved that.

Being the unofficial dad of the Karasuno volleyball team came with its perks, one of them was the ability to be able to discern if the people you were hanging with genuinely cared about you or not, you liked to joke around and call this his “secret dad weapon.”

Much like Kuroo, he was not one bit surprised when you told him that you had to put your friendship to an end with your former best friend. Of course, he was not angry, but in typical dad fashion, he adorned the oh so famous disappointed dad expression on his facial structure.

He told you not to overthink it, and to focus on the other friendly presences in your life such as the volleyball team or Kiyoko and Yachi, mainly because he knew he could trust them with his eyes closed, but also because he knew he would be able to make them pay if they were to hurt you.

When you started dating Daichi, you grew the habit to join him outside the gymnasium after his training, a bottle of water in your hand in case he overworked himself, which he always did.

This time, and much to your surprise, you found a note near the doorframe leading to the gymnasium. And if you were careful enough, the slight details and the precise calligraphy hinted that said note was in fact a love note.

You found it rather amusing at first, perhaps it was a letter dedicated to Kiyoko because this woman was the living and breathing proof that God was indeed a woman.

But everyday, you would find yet another letter, still carefully written and decorated leaning against the doorframe. This time, however, a calligraphic ‘D.S’ framed the front of the letter. You couldn’t help but let your stare roam over the fine print of calligraphy over and over again.

As the saying goes ‘curiosity killed the cat’, and you were no exception to that common phrase. You meticulously took the letter and unfolded it- it was so beautifully written, the details were placed strategically. It was a proof of pure love in the form of a letter.

Then, you began reading it : “Dear Daichi, Words cannot do justice of how much I love you. Everything about you fascinates me- from the way you spike the ball so roughly to the small smile on your face after scoring a point. If only I could tell you how much you mean to me. Don’t worry, Y/N won’t know a thing. Come to the gymnasium tomorrow at 5 if you wish, until then, accept all my love.”

You read the letter once, then twice, then an umpteenth time until the words were embedded in your brain. You thought it was just a prank, after all, Nishinoya and Tanaka were quite the pranksters amongst the team, but the handwriting was so delicate, too delicate to be theirs.

You could feel salty pearls coming at the brim of your eyes until they fell onto the surface of the paper, resulting in the texture of the letter now being bloated under the wetness of your tears.

You kept your discovery under silence, you trusted your boyfriend of course, but given the additional stress brought by the nationals, you refused to distract him from his goal.

But here you were, sharply there in front of the gym at five as indicated on the letter. However, Daichi hadn’t shown up like the anonymous lover requested, he was already stretching anyway.

Knots started to form in your stomach as you wondered who the hell had the idea to write this love letter to him, after all, it’s not as if your relationship with Daichi was kept as a secret.

And at 5:01 precisely, your orbs felt on the figure of your former best friend who had the most victorious grin plastered upon their face. Not only these letters were meant to be read by Daichi, but by you too, their main goal was to hurt you where it stung the most.

“What the hell are you doing here? Where you the one who wrote these letters?” You spat, waving the letters between your thumb and forefinger.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I know you love to make everything about yourself but I was expecting Daichi, not you.” Although they said they were sorry, there was not one ounce of genuine compassion in their voice.

Anger got the best of you resulting in the sudden apparition of veins on your neck as the volume of your voice only increased : “Who the fuck do you think you are? Are you that desperate? If you want a reply to your letter : Daichi doesn’t even know who you are.”

Your emotions controlled each one of your actions, including the severe tone of your voice. The ruckus made its way inside the walls of the gymnasium, until Daichi and Sugawara opened the door in order to find an answer as their interrogation : what was happening outside?

Daichi’s eyes widened when he saw your frame shaking from anger, it was so unlike you, you matched him in a way because you were always so calm and collected. His mind raced as he wondered what was the cause of this sudden switch of behavior.

He found the answer to his question pretty rapidly as his eyes darted towards your former best friend who was still wearing that victorious grin on their facial structure. “Y/N, love, what’s going on?” he asked as his hands were draped over your shoulders, forcing you to look at him.

“Oh, hey, Daichi! Have you read the letters I left for you? I bet Y/N never wrote this kind of letters for you.” It took inhuman strength for Daichi to ignore their taunt, instead, Sugawara sent a death glare their way : “Just leave, you have no business being here.”

Sugawara’s attempt at making them leave eventually succeeded after Coach Ukai’s sudden appearance before barking on your former best friend to “get the hell out of here” and “not disturb training anymore.”

Eventually, you were left alone with Daichi, your lungs felt constricted and you struggled to breathe. The aftermath of your outburst of anger made tears run down your cheeks as you sought for comfort inside of Daichi’s loving embrace.

The pad of his thumb brushed your tears away, planting a series of kisses upon the surface of your forehead as a silent way to tell you that he was here and he was not going to let you go.

“Listen, love, I don’t know what happened and we will talk about it whenever you feel ready. But promise me one thing, never doubt of my love for you. Could you do that for me, Y/N?”

You simply nodded against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat kept the haunting thoughts in your head at bay. “I love you so much, Y/N, so, so much.” he whispered, concluding his sentence with a kiss left on your lips.

If only he knew how much you loved him.

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kpopfanfictrash · 4 years

Text

Zephyr

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Word Count: 2,696

Rating: PG-13

Summary: An accompanying drabble to Exes and Supher-o’s. This drabble takes place before the events of Exes and Superher-o’s and follows Jungkook as he’s rescued by a superhero love interest.

A/N: The reader in this drabble is not the reader in Exes and Superher-o’s.

[ PART OF MY JUNGKOOK BIRTHDAY DRABBLE GAME ]

While standing in line at the check-out counter, Jungkook examined the oranges he’d picked out in his basket. Idly, he recalled Minutia saying the color orange came after the fruit, not before. She loved to spout factoids like that; Jungkook did a pretty good job of tuning her out, but her random facts always seemed to stick in his head.

Minutia was the superhero Jungkook was assigned to as handler. She was fairly loud, fairly opinionated and fairly dedicated to kicking people’s ass on the regular.

She’d mentioned the orange fact when ISA – International Superhero Agency – had recommended Minutia change her superhero suit color to orange. She’d felt very strongly about this and in the end, Minutia had won.

Usually, she did.

Realizing the line before him had moved, Jungkook took a step forward. No longer distracted by thoughts of the color orange, he took the opportunity to scan the grocery store around him.

It was a habit of his – an unfortunate side effect of both his job and the knowledge which came from it. After high school, Jungkook attended an elite military academy on the east coast, but it only took six months before ISA found him.

He’d been out for a morning run when two men in suits cornered him for what they called an opportunity. They’d explained about a different path than the military; an alternative from merely serving his country. Both agent and handlers at ISA held no national loyalty – they merely protected civilians from absolute evil.

Barely had the offer left their mouths before Jungkook accepted.

Of course, Jungkook learned soon after superhero handlers were little more than baby-sitters, but that was beside the point. He genuinely cared about Minutia and knew the work they did together was important – even if his position kind of sucked, since Jungkook was more than capable of defending himself.

Handlers were required to be proficient in various martial arts; they often trained the newbie superheroes who arrived at the Agency. Jungkook was a ninth-degree black belt in Taekwondo, a red belt in Jiu Jitsu and a tenth-degree black belt in Judo. He also had a blue belt in Krav Maga, but this had more to do with lack of time than capability. Jungkook could assemble and disassemble most weapons in the time it took most people to fire them, but all that meant nothing in the face of superpowers.

Minutia could simply freeze Jungkook and kill him if she wanted to; he’d never see it coming.

Not that Minutia would kill him, of course. Stifling the image, Jungkook moved up in line. His super was relentlessly moral, even if she had some rough edges and enjoyed pushing boundaries.

It was the rest who worried Jungkook, like the supervillains they fought. Aided by supernatural powers, supervillains were capable of great destruction. It was the main reason Jungkook stayed at his job – if anyone stood a chance against supervillains, it was superheroes.

“Bag?”

Surprised, Jungkook looked up. “Huh?”

“Bag,” the cashier girl repeated, rolling her eyes. “Do you want a bag?”

“Oh – no.” Jungkook shook his head. “I have my own. I –”

An explosion rocked the street outside, shattering the windows in a hailstorm of glass.

On instinct, Jungkook dove to protect the rude cashier with his body. There was bulletproof lining beneath his clothes, for which he was grateful. He’d just come from shooting practice at Headquarters and hadn’t had a chance to change out of his gear.

Glass harmlessly bounced off his torso, although a few shards sliced his face, leaving blood as he winced. Reaching up to grip counter, Jungkook surveyed the damage.

All the windows of the supermarket had been blown in. The blast seemed to have originated from the street – at least, Jungkook assumed this based on the direction of people running.

“Stay down!” he yelled, and launched himself over the counter.

People obeyed, crawling towards the store’s interior aisles. Jungkook hoped there was a door in the back, otherwise they’d trap themselves like fish in a barrel. He wasn’t surprised when people followed his command. People tended to respond positively to authority in times of chaos.

Yanking a Glock from his jacket, Jungkook dashed from the store. Cocking his head to one side, he surveyed the street for danger.

There – at the end of the block, he saw a cloud of dust settling.

Keeping his gun steady, Jungkook rushed towards the scene. Halfway there, he realized he’d left his groceries behind and nearly groaned. Oh, well, it couldn’t be helped. Such was the life of superheroes and handlers.

As though in response to his thought, someone emerged from the chaos.

Only one person; tall, with hulking muscles and what looked to be three arms. Nope, wait – that was machine gun. Fuck.

Jungkook lunged to the side as the man opened fire. Luckily, much of the street was deserted from the blast and few people were hurt. Propping himself up on one knee, Jungkook squinted from behind an overturned car and fired.

Five shots, each in quick succession aimed at the man’s torso. Three of them hit, sending the man to his knees, only for him to snarl, his gaze snapping upwards.

Jungkook watched in horror as the bullet wounds began to heal, pushing metal from flesh with alarming speed.

Of fucking course, he was a supervillain.

Flipping around, Jungkook pressed his back to the car and considered his options. He should call for Minutia, or another super – teeth gritted, Jungkook pushed this option aside. He could do this on his own; this was a fight he could win.

Winning against rejuvenation wasn’t unheard of for someone like him. It meant his opponent healed abnormally fast from their injuries, but they could be overwhelmed if Jungkook kept up momentum.

Before he could finish this thought, the car Jungkook sat against flipped overhead.

Eyes wide, Jungkook watched it crash and roll down the street. A small crowd darted away as they screamed and Jungkook stifled an eye roll. Civilians were so predictable. They never got out of the way like they should; instead, they pressed closer and tried to video it all on their cell phones.

Twisting around, Jungkook found the supervillain grinning at him while he flexed a muscle.

The machine gun lay discarded in a pile of rubble. Jungkook’s heart sank, since it meant the villain was out of ammo, which likely meant he’d been using it in other locations.

When the villain wrenched a storm grate from the ground, Jungkook came to his senses. Survival was priority number one. Fighting someone with only rejuvenation would’ve been hard enough; it would be near impossible to fight someone with rejuvenation and strength.

Rolling away, Jungkook managed to escape said trajectory of the grate.

Metal smashed into the space he’d just occupied, leaving a human-sized dent in the pavement. Flipping himself upwards, Jungkook shot as he moved. This was a move best left to the movies, unless you happened to be an obsessed-with-video-games-superhero-handler trained in four different kinds of martial arts.

Jungkook was just that.

“Catch me if you can!” he yelled, taking off down the street.

He zig-zagged as he moved, craning his neck to peer overhead. The new plan was: keep the villain’s attention on Jungkook until help arrived, which wouldn’t be long. Given the immediacy of the destruction, ISA would likely dispatch someone with the ability to fly.

All he had to do was stay alive until then. Smirking a little, Jungkook dug in his heel and spun around.

Luckily, he had a few tricks up his sleeve.

Pushing up the sleeve of his jacket, Jungkook waited until the villain was within fifteen feet, then pressed a button. 70 mA of electrical current shot out from his wrist, arcing with blue-white light to hit the villain in the chest. A product created by Namjoon, otherwise known as the superhero, Brainblast.

The volt was enough to stun or kill any other man, but the villain simply gasped and sunk to his knees.

He writhed for a moment, clawing at skin which simultaneously burned and healed. The distraction was all Jungkook needed to run, aiming his gun and – someone swooped down to blast the villain back with air.

A smirk on your face, you lowered both hands to your sides.

Jungkook skidded to a stop. Your superhero alias, Zephyr, was one of the most popular superheroes on the face of the planet. Intelligent, formidable, and rated a seven on the ISA power scale, despite only having one superpower: control over the air and winds.

You were also ridiculously hot; Jungkook had harbored a crush on you for years.

He still remembered the day you arrived at the Agency. Higher-ups said Zephyr (the Greek god of the west wind) was traditionally a male name and wouldn’t make sense to serve as your moniker. You’d said to fuck off and written it down anyways.

This memory made Jungkook smile, even as you sent another wave of wind down the street. Shaking his head, he pulled himself back to reality.

Hovering a few feet off the ground, wind whipped at your hair. You’d explained to him once you didn’t really fly – it was more the wind currents obeyed your commands and took you where you needed to go. Jungkook didn’t really get the difference, but he couldn’t deny you looked badass doing it.

While the villain struggled to stand, you glanced down at Jungkook.

“You alright?” you asked, concern evident in your voice.

Jungkook tried not to frown. “I’m fine,” he said, despite the disheveled state of his hair and clothes. “I had him, you know.”

“Right.” Your expression turned dubious. “It’s just that –”

You were cut off by said villain throwing a car at your head, which you managed to stop with a thrust of your hand. The winds obeyed your command, wrapping around the car to set off to one side.

Gaze narrowed, you rose even higher. “It’s not that you’re not capable!” You yelled to be heard over the wind. “But –”

A sewer grate flew through the air and, without turning, Jungkook shot it down from the sky. Pieces rained around them like confetti.

You stared at him, wide-eyed. “Right.” Sheepish, you smiled. “Just keep doing that. Distract him and I’ll try to knock him out. Keep him alive, though!”

Jungkook nodded, giving a grim smile before moving forward.

He broke into a run, alarmed by how fast the villain seemed to heal. Even if two supers had the same power, they tended to vary in intensity. This villain must be rated high even without his super strength.

The device on Jungkook’s arm wouldn’t recharge for another five minutes, so he relied on his gun to keep the villain occupied. A shot to the kneecap; another to his shoulder. Keeping your words in mind, Jungkook tried not to hit anything vital. Even rejuvenation might not be enough to heal the man if he shot him in the heart.

High above, you flew gracefully upwards. Jungkook nearly stopped to stare; you arced through the sky like a dancer, claiming the winds as though you owned them. Caressing the breeze with one hand, you turned around and – fuck.

Jungkook had let himself get distracted. Swearing aloud, he dove behind the nearest car and heard something shatter.

Rolling to the other side, he propped himself up on one knee and shot. The villain yelped, stumbling forward as the bullet hit his elbow.

This time, it took greater concentration for metal to be squeezed from his skin. The villain panted as he stood, clearly winded and Jungkook’s heart leapt, realizing they’d tired him out.

This turned out to be the opening you needed.

Swooping down, you reached out a hand, and – wind whipping about like a force field – slowly closed your palm.

The villain gasped, his eyes going wide as he clutched his throat.

Shakily, Jungkook pushed himself upwards to stand.

One of the most dangerous powers associated with air manipulation was creating a vacuum. You achieved this by removing the air entirely; a feat which required great skill and concentration.

It only took a few minutes for the man to be so deprived of oxygen, his eyes rolled backwards. His legs wavered a second, then he slumped to the ground.

“Saoirse!” you yelled, floating down. “Cuffs!”

A woman with red hair – your handler, Jungkook presumed – ran from the nearest subway station to quickly cuff the man’s hands behind his back. Jungkook could see the moment the villain’s power drained from his limbs.

Standing before them, you watched, although it seemed to pain you.

Picking his way through the wreckage, Jungkook came to a stop by your side. Glancing your way, he noticed the breeze continue to play with your hair, as though it couldn’t bear to be parted for long.

“Do you ever wonder what this does to us?”

Confused by your question, Jungkook blinked. “What do you mean?”

“This,” you said, waving a hand at the wreckage. In the distance, Jungkook could hear sirens screaming. “All the death, the destruction… even the people on the other side. Does it ever hurt you sometimes?”

Jungkook stared at you for a moment, unsure how to respond.

Truthfully, it did bother him when he saw himself in the villains they faced. Sometimes he was fighting genuine evil, but occasionally the villains had reasonable grievances – worse, sometimes they’d merely been raised to see the ISA as evil.

Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to hate those kinds of villains and yes, it did hurt when he took them out.

Sensing his hesitance, your shoulders slumped. Jungkook’s stomach twisted, wanting to fix whatever it was you were feeling. He hesitated, wanting to say you weren’t alone.

“Never mind,” you said, managing to smile. “Another bad guy defeated, right?”

“Right.” Jungkook’s gaze remained upon yours. “I guess.”

Before you could say anything more, Saoirse called your name.

“Guess I should go,” you said, rising into the air. When you glanced his way, Jungkook found himself wondering what you were thinking. “I… thanks for helping today, Jungkook.”

“Anytime.”

This time when he smiled at you, it was genuine.

You rose another few feet, then hesitated. “It’s been awhile since I came by the training arena, huh?”

Jungkook shrugged, as though he hadn’t noticed, but he had. Of course, he had.

“You’re still the one they’ve got training the new recruits?”

“Yep,”

“Hm.” A small smile crossed your lips. “Maybe I should stop by. Show the newbies how it’s done. We could work up a sweat.”

Jungkook’s heart nearly stopped when you dropped him a wink. Before he could speak, you rose further into the air.

“Bye, Jungkook!” you called, and zipped off down the street.

The sound of your voice faded into the sounds of the city and Jungkook stood there another moment before coming to his senses. His phone began to ring in his pocket.

Fumbling for the device, he sighed when he saw the name on the ID.

“Hello?” he said, lifting the phone to his ear.

“YOU’RE ALIVE.”

Wincing, he held the phone further away. “Minutia?”

“Who else would it be? Of course, it’s me, you idiot! I had just gotten my morning coffee and was passing that pizza place when I happen to catch a glimpse of the TV – and what do I see? You, fighting a fucking supervillain alone!”

“I wasn’t alone,” Jungkook shot back.

“Yeah, those cowering civilians looked real intimidating.”

“Zephyr showed up at the end, it was fine.”

“Oh,” she said, somewhat mollified. “Alright, then. She’s cool. But seriously, JK – be more careful, would you? I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Pulling his hand away, Jungkook squinted at the receiver. “Huh?” he said, returning the device to his ear.

“Yeah, who’d pick up my dry cleaning?”

“Bye,” Jungkook grunted, and hung up the phone.

Still, he smiled as he turned to walk down the street. People stared as he passed, pointing and whispering about the state of his clothes. Jungkook heard the word super being muttered, although he didn’t bother to correct them.

He was too busy turning your words over again in his mind. Does it ever hurt you sometimes?

The truth was it did. All the time.

He just didn’t know if there existed a better path than the one he was on.

#jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook drabble #bts drabble #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook superhero #bts superhero

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a-monsters-love · 4 years

Note

Hi!! I know this is super dramatic but I was wondering if you’d be willing to write some ✨angst✨ Maybe Todoroki, Hawks, Bakugo Midoriya (take your pick if that’s too many) reacting to their s/o taking a particularly bad hit for them? Enough to knock them out of a fight. If you needed an idea for a quirk, maybe a short burst teleportation quirk? Just an idea! Thanks for taking the time to read this! 🖤

Oh man, I love drama but let’s see if I know how to write angst, and I LOVE THAT QUIRK IDEA. I had a similar idea for a fic that’s been pinned until I get ✨inspiration✨ aND HERE WE ARE. Also thank you so much for the request and for being so polite 💛

The idea I had was inspired by Vanellope von Schweetz from Wreck-It-Ralph, like a glitch quirk. I’m gonna make the 1-A boys pro hero’s for this because it’s so much more work to do it while they’re still in school, I’m cutting Izuku cause I can’t see anything but crying or our feral child in the latest update and oh man it hurts too much.

These are a fraction shorter than I would’ve liked them to be however i wrote them on my phone so they looked longer lmao

——————

[Master List]

Todoroki Shoto:

Hours. It’s been hours since this fight had begun, or so it felt like. You were panting heavily, Shoto watched you stand your ground firmly. You took a deep meditative breath, you smiled softly at him and glitched. You appeared on a window ledge behind the steel villain and went in to distract him while Shoto went to work. He looked around and noticed you were cornering the villain where less civilians were around. The villain turned as if to attack you but made a quick action to attack Shoto off guard, you glitched towards your husband to stop the steel needles from impacting him. “(Y/N)!” He screamed, your hand was so close but the world went black.

Shoto watched as several thick steel needles pierced through your body, you smiled softly at him and you eyes closed before you hit the ground. Tears sizzled before they could run down his cheeks, he saw red and froze the villain quickly. He didn’t care about the repercussions, he didn’t care what would happen, all he wanted was for you to be alive at the end of the day.

He sat there with you in his arms as blood pooled around the two of you staining your respective uniforms. A medic removed you from his arms and he followed silently. He didn’t say anything in the ambulance, he didn’t say anything while you were in surgery, he didn’t say anything as you were transferred to a hospital room.

Days that passed turned into weeks before you opened your eyes, when you did you see his bi-colored hair as he slept snuggled into your arm leaned onto your hospital bed. You smiled softly and pet his hair with you opposing hand, a deep breath leaves you. Shoto stirs and rubs his eyes as he sits up, his left side lights aflame as his emotions run wild. “Hey.” You said, your voice was scratchy and muffled from the oxygen mask.

“Hey.” His voice shook as sat up, he clutched your hand in his and squeezed it lightly. “(Y/N)- I- you can’t…” His words hitched in his throat.

You sighed and smiled softly again, “I’m sorry, Sho.” Tears left your eyes, you couldn’t imagine how he must feel. “My body just-“ Moved on its own, you chuckled softly at the thought.

He chuckled getting the point of what you were going to say, he kissed your forehead softly. “Try not to do that again…” He nearly whispered the words, you could felt him shaking. You couldn’t promise you wouldn’t do it again, but you could promise to try.

Takami Keigo (Hawks):

You didn’t know how he could flirt while fighting, at first sure it was cute and sure you love him but, “Hawks! Is this really the time?” You tried not to hiss at him blushing in embarrassment and frustration.

He gave his award winning smile, “Of course, Angel! How else am I supposed to keep up morale?” You snorted at his comment and rolled your eyes.

“Focus, Birdy.” You jumped out of the way before colliding with cement being thrown at you. You glitched towards the villain before he could touch the ground again, as soon as you reformed in front of him your stomach felt hot. You coughed up blood and looked down. You materialized into the villains knife, looking back at your boyfriend a tear streamed down your cheek. “Focus…” Your voice was almost a whisper as your body fell towards the earth.

“DOVE!” His cry was almost a screech. Keigo’s eyes narrowed as he sent the last of his feathers towards you to soften your landing. “THAT’S ENOUGH.” He charged towards the villain but your words echoed in his mind ‘focus’. Hawks retrieved his longest feathers that now dripped with your blood, he saw red but kept hearing your words. He made quick work incapacitating the villain before rushing to find you. You’d already been taken into an ambulance and ushered off to the emergency room.

Keigo paced enough to wear a trench into the ground while you were in surgery. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as the surgery sign turned off. He was told to rest by a nurse but refused until he saw you.

You slept for a few days before waking up, when you did he was staring at you wide eyed. He was surprised to see you awake but gods was he relieved. He wore what one might consider pajamas, his sweatpants were pulled up to his knees, his shirt and sweater were disheveled. He had dark heavy bags under his eyes the indicated he wasn’t handling you being out very well. “Angel..” He spoke softly.

You smiled and winced painfully as you adjusted, Keigo stood quickly to help you adjust the lift in the bed. “Hey Birdy..” You coughed out, “You look like hell.”

He rubbed his face and snorted, “Dove. Is this really the time?” He was grateful you could make jokes even while on deaths doorsteps.

You smirked, “How else am I supposed to keep up the morale?” You teased, quoting his comment the day of the fight. You both chuckled softly before silent set in. “I’m sorry Kei, I should’ve been paying more attention.” Your hand grazed over your newest scar.

Keigo goes to say something with a smile but it quickly drops, he looks at his hands as they shake. “I… I don’t know what I would’ve done with out you…” He glances up at you with misty eyes. “Don’t scare me like that, (Y/N)…”

Guilt sets in your stomach as tears well in your own eyes, “I didn’t mean to-“ You reached out your arms and he climbed into the hospital bed beside you. You pet his hair until he fell asleep, you both knew this was part of being a hero but this was the last thing you wanted.

Bakugo Katsuki:

Just once, just once you’d like to have a normal date with your boyfriend. Sure, you’re both hero’s and sure, it’s not like villains had a schedule you could follow and plan around. Fuck, just once you’d love if King Murder Explosion himself would just let other hero’s handle things themselves.

You glitched around the street collecting and moving civilians, “Ground Zero, the western street is clear!” You shout up to him.

A smirk grows on his lips as he follows your lead, blasting the villain to the street you cleared. You start clearing the surrounding streets as you knew how your boyfriend was, blasty boi couldn’t avoid making a bigger mess than needed. “COME ON! SCARED?” He chided with the villain, edging him on.

The oversized criminal threw an empty car towards Katsuki who blasted it to the ground. Things being thrown and blasted back and fourth continued for a moment when you heard a cry for help. A child, you thought. You look back at the two fighting and glitched towards the sound, you teleported between rubble slowly finding your way to them. “Hey… it’s gonna be alright.” You said in a hushed toned as you found their little hand, glitching them into your arms. “Hey- Hi kiddo, I’m here now.” You pet their hair as the sobbed silently, trekking back to safety.

You could only glitch one person at a time safely, the last thing you needed was to glitch a possibly injured child into having a seizure. “(Y/N)!” You heard Katsuki shout, “LOOK OUT!!” He howled, you looked back too slow and glitched the child to safety.

By the time your quirk confirmed they had materialized safely you were struck in the head with a large chunk on concrete. Everything was dizzying and then black, “Suki..” You mumbled as you hit the ground.

The next explosion was loud, aggressive. Katsuki hadn’t seen that much rage since high school. After everything that happened and then meeting you, you the woman he wanted to marry, gods he saw red. He debilitated the villain in a series of large blasts, bellowing for medics who arrived at the scene. He screamed at them to hurry up and help you, screamed until he was sure it was burned in their brains before fizzling.

The world had never seemed so silent, everything ached. Everything was dull and lifeless as he waited for you to wake up. They claimed you’d be fine, Recovery Girl had come to see you. Now was just a waiting game, Katauki’s patience was thin but he’d wait for you for the rest of his life.

You woke that evening to quiet bickering, you can hear Katsuki on the phone. You assumed it was Kirishima, you smirked thinking about how much your boyfriend has calmed down in the passed years. “No, I couldn’t ask her! You really think I had the time? We’re in the fuCKING HOSPITAL!” He hissed.

You hummed, “..Suki?” You ask, he disconnects the line as soon as he heard your voice and walks over to your bed.

“Why didn’t you teleport to safety?” He jeered.

You sigh and look at the ceiling, “I had a child with me, I couldn’t.” You rubbed your eyes and looked at him. His gaze softened and he sat down.

He sighed and pressed his face into both of his palms, “Today was supposed to be fucking special, I always fuck this shit up.” You hummed in curiosity, a blush crept up his ears.

“Everyday is special with you, Suki. Stop being so hard on yourself.” You chuckle softly.

He looks up and rests his chin on one of his hands, the other reaches into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a small velvety box, “That’s not what I meant...” He huffed and handed you the box.

You sat up awkwardly and took the box, opening it to see a ring set. It was simple but it fit the two of you, tears bubbles up in your eyes. “Katsuki-“ Your voice hitched in your throat and he slouched back in his seat while ruffling his hair. “Of course, oh my god-“ The two of you chuckled and you reached out for him to come closer, you pressed your lips to his for a chaste kiss. “So, who’s idea was it to make you do all the extra frivolousness?” You snort at him and he shot up.

He growled slightly ruffling his hair aggressively, “I KNEW YOU DIDN’T NEED ALL THAT SHIT.” You burst into laughter and groaned at the ache in your head, maybe you could get a day from him to go on a date.

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creativeashproductions · 4 years

Text

Faded Memories // Julie Molina

Summary: After the death of her mother more than music is dropped from Julie’s life. Julie breaks up with her best friend turned then girlfriend Ramona. When Ramona gets closure it causes Julie remembers that Ramona was more than a girlfriend. She was her best friend too.

Warning: Swearing, talk of death, break-up, angst (ain’t new here), Julie and Ramona are ex-girlfriends and no happy ending (oops)

Characters: ex!Julie Molina x ex!Ramona Monet (just worked better with an OC even when it will get less traction, sorry)

Words: 2.9k

A/N: So in my Charlie Gillespie imagine A Walk Down The Aisle the reader played a character Ramona Monet on the show. @leave-reality-behind wanted a fic off the tiny scene I wrote. So here you go.

Please ask to be tagged in my inbox because I can’t promise you will through commenting on the fics.

Masterlist

Ramona Monet’s deep burgundy lips manoeuvred into an ‘o’ as she released a deep breath of air sending her fringe flying. The last place she wanted to be was the spirit rally, but her Pops had banned for from the hidden gem in the older parts of LA. Ramona’s love of old movies stemmed from the many times her father had dropped her off at the movie theatre on his way to work. Being banned and her best friend performing at the rally is the only reason she would show her face.

Ramona had chosen a red tartan shirt with her fishnets that would more than likely land her in Principle Lessa’s office. As usual, she would fight ‘it broke dress code’ earing a little less respect from the adult but admiration for the quick retorts. Ramona made her way to the gym as the first beat of Carrie’s song played, her black ankle boots finding the way to the bleachers.

“Hey, Monet,” Nick spoke, leaning forward from his concealed position in the nest of jocks. The kind blonde had always been lovely to his girlfriend’s best friend.

“Nick.” Ramona nodded looking back as Carrie burst into the fast pace choreography that went with the pop song.

Dirty Candi’s music was not what Ramona listened to, but she couldn’t fault that it was a catchy song that would be in everyone’s head for days. From a distance, Carrie’s brown eyes finding Ramona wearing her self-made merch.

Ramona’s shirt sported the letters of Dirty Candi in the iconic colours Carrie had stressed over in the beginning. The black shirt was bleached in a tie-dye fashion, but it made Carrie’s heart flutter at the supportive friend she had.

“Whoo!” Ramona called over the loud background noise as Carrie gracefully dropped to perform the floor choreo. The words referencing to the band Queen made the teen girl knowing it was Carrie’s way of acknowledging the car karaoke.

Ramona’s attention was brought to the side where two girls were watching the performance. Flynn and Julie had been in the back of Ramona’s mind since the accident happened; Ramona’s heart dropped at the girl. Julie and Ramona had a good history tainted by tragic loss and teenage angst.

Ramona and Julie had been childhood best friends being a few houses from each other and that history was bittersweet. The two girls had nervously shared their first kisses in the now dilapidated treehouse in the Monet’s backyard. A relationship bloomed like a flower in the morning sun before the sun was concealed behind a storm cloud. Julie’s mom died, and Julie asked for a break.

Now everyone knows that a break is really a breakup and the naïve girlfriends had believed that. Then as Julie struggled with music, she struck out to the closest person, her girlfriend and Ramona found herself dumped. The dumping shattered Ramona’s heart, and the friend group divided. Flynn chose Julie and Carrie, disgusted by the cruel words, chose Ramona in a true Carrie fashion; Carrie and Ramona had initially only interacted together for their mutual friend/girlfriend. Then Ramona’s heart was obliterated when days later, she caught Julie staring at Nick with the same look Ramona used to get.

Ramona’s head turned to disregard the girl that had run out of music class the previous day during her performance. Rumours circulated by the end of the day that Julie Molina had been officially kicked out of the program; Ramona was both sad and relieved. Julie’s own head turned to catch the profile of her ex-girlfriend.

“Go Bobcats!” Carrie Wilson chimed strutting off to the girls change room for the dramatic exit. Needing a break from Julie, the Monet girl followed Dirty Candi into the change room.

“Nailed it,” Ramona spoke, revealing white teeth behind her dark lipstick gaining the pink-haired girl’s attention. Carrie’s face beamed at the compliment.

Ramona and Carrie Wilson couldn’t be farther in comparison with their different tastes and appearance. Carrie was all pink and glittery while Ramona was grunge and angst. Ramona was the one to push Carrie into making a YouTube channel, even promoting the group to Ramona’s followers without prompting.

“Oh! Thank you!” Carrie tugged her best friend into her arms, choking her taller friend with the tight embrace.

“So, I overheard Julie and Flynn when I walked by the music room. Julie’s going to perform for Mrs Harrison.” Ramona warned her best friend concerned as Carrie’s complexation changed to make the gaudy pink wig, “OH!”

Carrie’s French manicure gouged Ramona’s bare arm as she was tugged after the teenager back into the gym. A gasp fell from both their lips as Kayla, the purple dancer for Dirty Candi appeared. The three students rushed the stage where three guys popped out of nowhere on the stage.

“What the hell?” Ramona demanded watching her ex-girlfriend break out of her music shell, “Wow.”

“What do you mean ‘wow’ Ro?” Carrie asked in exasperation as her best friend stared at the stage, enjoying the music being played. Carrie scoffed only to soften when she saw the expression on Ramona, “Ro, she doesn’t deserve you. She never did.”

The sad smile appeared on Ramona’s face as her eyes met the bass player’s wink. Ramona flushed at the attention taken aback from the confidence. For a split-second, Ramona considered wiggling her way into the band to get back at Julie.

But while Ramona dressed like a confident badass, it was inside that she felt alone and hurt that Julie was doing so well without her. That sent rage flooding Carrie’s body so when Kayla fawned over the band Carrie glared at her. Kayla dropped her head at the glare.

“I’m gonna go,” Ramona spoke walking away from the stage and her ex who apparently, she still had feelings for. God help Ramona. Why was it when Ramona was shaking the feeling that Julie had to come back with a bang?

Ramona was striding out of the gym as the band disappeared, leaving the Molina girl alone to explain. Ramona leaned against the bathroom sink uncaring of the germs in carried staring at the teen in the mirror. The bubbling sadness faded down, remembering the changes that had happened, she was better without Julie.

Ramona walked back into the hall, catching the tail end of Julie’s conversation with absolutely no one near her. Ramona’s mossy green eyes rolled as she walked by the younger girl the bubble of anger reaching the surface. The sheepish smile on Julie’s face as a concerned custodian pushed his cart by.

“Oh, so does this girl.” Reggie spoke, watching as a rocker chick made a wide berth around his only remaining alive friend, “Ooh, she’s pretty.”

Julie watched the older girl walk by keeping her gaze ahead, “Hey Mona.”

Ramona cast a weird look at the other girl with a roll of her eyes, “Good on you for performing. Surprised someone other than Flynn survived Bitch Bomb 2019.”

Ramona turned around the corner of lockers leaving the Puerto Rican’s shoulders to deflate at the remind of Flynn running off. Sunset Curve watched the interaction with raised brows flicking between the very different girls.

“What was that about?” Alex wondered, viewing the sad expression of the gifted singer’s face. The utter sadness reminding him of when he broke up with his first boyfriend in ’93 and the lingering feeling.

“That was Ramona.” Julie sighed, picking at the braided bracelet on her wrist that had matched the one you used to wear.

Being fourteen without jobs and little allowance gifts had been mostly thrifted or homemade so for the six month anniversary they had braided bracelets. They had never come off their wrists until the breakup; Ramona had cut it off in a puddle of tears. Julie couldn’t bring herself to remove hers.

“When did Julie get smart enough to how about holograms?” Carrie scoffed as Ramona joined her at the lab table. The performance lingering like a bad taste of the girl’s tongue, “I worked weeks on that song! It was so hard getting Katy’s choreographer to help.”

“Carrie she-“

“She is so stupid! We’ve all lost someone, and we didn’t pull a Bitch Bomb 2019.” Carrie exclaimed referring to the first months of Julie’s grief-led wrath.

Carrie was both right and wrong in that sense because everyone grieved differently, Carrie would do retail shopping. Ramona’s way of dealing was locking herself in a room with a piano and lugging up water balloons to a roof; very Peyton Sawyer of her. Julie never reached out to apologize for her actions, but Ramona blocked her on everything.

“Car focus on the lab. You still have that bomb-ass song you’re working on.” Ramona sympathized with the teen. Carrie nodded her head, deciding to not focus on some girl with a fluke of a performance; Julie almost puked on the piano a few days ago, so her surprise band was probably a one-time thing.

“Don’t you have anything better than-“

“Carrie do you hear something?” Ramona pursed her lips, scanning the classroom with a feigned look of confusion. Carrie’s lips twitched at her best friend’s antics, “I swore I heard the voice of irrelevance.”

“Ooh and I swore I smelt gutter water perfume too.” Carrie flicked her hair over her shoulder, smirking at Flynn’s look of anger, “Mr. Taylor! Flynn threatened to burn me!”

Mr Taylor turned his attention from Kayla to Flynn’s expression of disbelief and the glare directed at the table ahead. Putting on a look of shock, Ramona appeared genuinely flabbergasted to the chemistry teacher.

“Flynn, that’s detention.” Mr Taylor spoke, turning back to Kayla.

“You bit-“Flynn was cut off by the bell ringing. Ramona and Carrie had already left the confident girl in the room. Flynn was fuming with both Julie’s lying and the unfair detention because of two popular vindictive girls.

One would expect Ramona Monet, as a member of the music program, to play guitar or drums. However, Ramona was a classically trained pianist with an affinity with stringed instruments as well. The Monet family had a footing in the music world with her mother taught in the same way, and her father a composer.

“Oh! Sorry.” Ramona’s intense focus on the music enchanting the room was pulled as the awkward form stood in the entrance.

“Seriously, Molina?” Ramona winced as her hands fell on the keys creating an ear gouging shriek. Her green eyes shining brighter with the bare face she had chosen with little motivation for makeup, “I’ve been using this room every day at the same time since freshman year. You should know that. Guess I really wasn’t even an afterthought.”

Ramona’s hand shoved soft top binder of her notes in her black bag covered in many pins and embroidered patches. Her bright pink nail polish surprising Julie but her eyes drowned in the form-fitting ripped black jeans with the wine red cable knit sweater. Cheeks flushing Julie stuttered.

“S-sorry. I just-“

“Whatever.” Ramona shoved passed her ex-girlfriend, “Why do you even wear that?”

Julie glanced at the meaningful bracelet that Ramona intensely stared at with the dark and light strings braided. Julie’s eyes fell to see Ramona no longer wore braided bracelets but a bracelet with a moon charm.

“It means a lot.”

“Just not the person.” Ramona darkly chuckled, “Kinda childish?”

Julie shuffled uncomfortably on her feet picking at her cuticle at the insult her antagonist ex threw at her. Three ghosts glared at the Monet girl pissed at the unfair treatment she was giving Julie.

“Hey! What the hell is your problem?” Luke snapped, stepping forward even as Alex made his input of it being unnecessary; they were dead. To Alex shock, the disgruntled girl shifted her gaze from Julie to the trio.

“My problem is none of your damn business Uncle Jesse.” Ramona spat earning raised brows at her reference.

“Did she die in the ’90s too?” Reggie stage whispered to his best friend staring the pretty brunette down. Ramona’s eyes rolled.

“Should have known. The only people Julie didn’t scare off would be the dead.” Ramona snarked twisting on her heel to storm off into the distance.

“I’m sorry!” Julie yelled, bringing the brunette to a dead stop with her foot not planted on the floor yet as the apology finally came.

All Ramona had ever wanted was Julie to apologize for her shitty decision to dump Ramona cruelly. Using bitter words on her personal life to drive the wedge but the final nail in the coffin was the slammed door in Ramona’s face.

“For what?” Ramona seethed, “For asking for space and screaming when I gave it? Dumping me and acting like I was the black plague? How about when you forgot about my audition? Burning the flowers, I sent for the funeral? Or making breaking off communication and Flynn completely ignoring me?”

“Oh damn.” Luke murmured, stepping back to the drummer and bassist floored at the confrontation. His heart dropped, finally understanding why Julie avoided all topics relating to Ramona.

“I was wrong.” Julie admitted, “I pushed you away. I got mad when you gave me what I wanted. I should have talked to you and not broke up with you that way I did.”

“She burnt funeral flowers. “Alex whispered to Reggie, surprised at the out of character action from his new friend.

“I chose you over my audition. I chose to offer support for my best friend, not just my then-girlfriend, on one of her worst days. I get to the funeral, and you refused to let me say goodbye to the woman that practically raised me as well.” Ramona calmed down, staring at the younger girl breaking apart in front of her.

It felt like a weight dropped off Ramona’s shoulders or the chains of heartbreak and confusion unlocked with the key of closure. The clouds disappeared, letting the sun help the flowers bloom after a year of rain. A genuine smile spread on the girls face as Julie’s dropped at the beautiful sight.

“I hope you well Birdie.” Julie’s heart fluttered at the pet name Ramona had coined for the teenager. It shortened from songbird to birdie, and Julie hadn’t heard in what felt like years, “I gotta go. It’s filming day.”

Julie went pushed into a memory.

Summer 2018

The camera was entirely set on Ramona in the treehouse that her Pop had built when she was five years old. Fourteen-year-old Ramona was relaxing as she fixed her white off-shoulder crop top to be straight once more. The cover of the song accompanied by her acoustic guitar was pretty to the years of the short girl at the entrance.

“I still think it’s cheesy to call it Music Monday.” Ramona told the camera with a shy smile after strumming the last note. Her eyes meeting the girl that tackled her in a hug, “Birdie!”

“Birdie?” Julie questioned leaning back from her kissing attacks on every inch of her dirty-blonde girlfriend.

“Songbird is a bit of a mouthful.” Ramona blushed hiding in Julie’s neck unaware of the camera still rolling. The blush deepened at the lingering kiss to Ramona’s hairline.

“I love it.” Julie softly spoke, leaning back to gaze into Ramona’s green eyes swimming in the soft feeling.

Julie Molina and Ramona Monet had been the classic best friends with hidden crushes that shattered one afternoon. Ramona was nervous about a date she had the next day, and she had never kissed anyone. Julie, awed by her best friend, admitted she’d never kissed anyone and so in a cliché, the girls decided to share their first kiss. Feelings were revealed, and the two started to date.

“So, what brings you here.” Ramona asked, stopping the camera from recording as her girlfriend shifted, “What’s up?”

“If you’re ready I’d like to have you over for dinner.” Julie shyly asked, avoiding Ramona’s gaze.

“That’s not new Birdie.” Ramona chuckled helping the shorter girl to her feet fingers caressing the bracelet that was a twin to her own. Julie’s eyes flicked down to the light pink shorts that matched the butterfly click in Ro’s hair.

“Not as my best friend. As my girlfriend.” Julie murmured fearing the response.

“Should I call your parents Mr and Mrs.” Ramona wondered, kissing Julie’s cheek as the other girl relaxed at the statement. Julie feared Ramona wasn’t ready or didn’t want to be at that stage in the relationship, “If you are ready, then so am I.”

“You’re the best thing to happen to me.” Julie beamed, “Oh! I wanna show you the song Mom, and I made!”

Julie tugged her pretty girlfriend to the front of the house to lead her to the Molina’s garage they renovated into a music studio. The girls’ laughter floating in the summer breeze, the relationship blooming under the sun as it developed further. Naïvely the two young teens believed nothing could rip them apart, if only they knew.

“So, I’m guessing she’s off-limits?” Reggie offered as he bounced on his heels, attempting to lighten the mood. The glare from Julie was enough to answer that question.

“Reg. Firstly, don’t date your friend’s ex. Secondly, you’re dead.” Alex deadpanned at his best friend to turn to Julie, “Are you okay?”

“No.” Julie honestly spoke, “I guess I never realized that losing my girlfriend also meant I would lose my best friend.”

On the other side of the school, Ramona Monet could finally smile as the memories with Julie regained the colour grief had erased. Ramona Monet was better than fine, she was happy.

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#julie molina imagines #julie molina x reader #julie molina x oc #julie and the phantoms imagines #julie and the phantoms #ex!julie molina x ex!girlfriend #angst #julie molina #jatp fanfic #caitsy and ash productions

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ofhoneyandrosepetals · 4 years

Text

Bright as Red

Pairing: Yata Misaki x reader

Description: Reader is left on the streets in a severe situation, being found by Totsuka Tatara, who gets to himself the responsability to help and heal the girl in HOMRA's headquarters. When she wakes up, she's led by the wanting to seek for revenge, going after who's hurt her.

Warnings: only a couple of swears.

Word count: 1,868.

A/N: yeah, I did something 🙈 I’ve been going through a nostalgic time and so this idea came to me.

Totsuka Tatara had found her in the streets, tossed in an alley like a ragged doll, her school uniform a bloody mess. She had hair by her shoulders that covered her face while Totsuka brought her inside HOMRA’s headquarters in his arms, her arms and legs hanging freely.

“What is this?” Asked Kusanagi Izumo, the second in command, horrified at the sight.

“I found her like this in an alley nearby. She’s unconscious,” answered Totsuka.

“And you had to bring her here?” Said Kusanagi in annoyance.

“What was I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, maybe get her to the damn hospital?”

“She’s hurt, Izumo. I… I couldn’t leave her. Look at her. She looks so helpless.”

Yata Misaki saw everything from the couch, eyes wide open in curiosity. Kusanagi took a deep breath.

“We’re not a charity.”

“Please…” Totsuka pleaded, stopped by the hearing of someone’s footsteps. His eyes laid upon his King, who watched silently the scene before him. His amber eyes said enough.

“Tatara…” Kusanagi begin saying, but Suoh Mikoto cut him off.

“I know. Come,” said the King to Totsuka, who followed him. “You can put her in your room,” his deep voice said without any emotion. “Mind to explain yourself?”

Totsuka repeated the story he told Kusanagi while Mikoto sat at the edge of the bed, observing the young and injured girl.

“Give me one reason to accept this situation,” Mikoto said.

Totsuka said without even stopping to think:

“It’s the right thing to do. You helped me, now I want to help her. Who’s the monster who’d hurt a girl in such ways?”

Mikoto took a deep and lazy breath and got up from the bed, tapping Totsuka’s shoulder before saying:

“She’s your responsibility. I don't want her around for too much time. She’s not one of us.”

Totsuka shook his head one time in acceptance and sat by the girl’s side after Mikoto left.

“Don’t worry, girl. I’ll take care of you, and soon enough you’ll be all patched up and new.”

***

Yata avoided the girl’s room - well, actually Totsuka’s room - all he could. Even though she couldn’t see him or as far as he knew, hear him, she still made him nervous. He only saw her three times, when Totsuka had asked him to help with her recovery.

The situation was pretty bad, he imagined. She was there for five days already and hadn’t moved since. Everyone thought that maybe she was close to death when found by Totsuka, but what did they know, right?

Yata helped Totsuka while he patched up her wounds and ran away when Totsuka motioned to change her dirty, bloody clothes with clean ones. They were Yata’s clothes, since him and the girl were close in height. He didn’t mind giving his clothes to her, although this idea made all his blood go up to his cheeks.

Kushina Anna would often be by the girl’s side, only watching her as her chest went up and down as she breathed.

“She’s a little red,” Yata heard the little girl say to Kusanagi, who just slipped her a glass of juice through the balcony.

“Oh yeah?”

“Do you think Mikoto will let her stay with us?” She sounded hopeful.

“I don’t know, Anna.”

“Totsuka-san had been telling her about us. Do you think she can hear?” Yata said, a little bothered.

“Maybe. Who knows. Want a soda, Yata-chan?” Kusanagi asked.

“Yeah, alright,” Yata slid on the barstool next to Anna. “What do you think of her?” He asked while sipping.

“I like her,” was all the little girl said. Yata wondered whether Anna had read the girl’s thoughts or not, or if even she had any thoughts while being unconscious.

“Yata-chan, would you go check on the girl? Tatara left to buy some more things that he needs.”

“Me? Why…?”

Yata was cut off by a tough look of Kusanagi and immediately went to Totsuka’s room.

He took a look at her bandages, but they all seemed alright. Since he felt the room very much silent, he leaned over her, trying to see if she was breathing. With his index finger placed under her nostrils he felt the weak air.

For some external forces he kept there, watching her face as she breathed silently. She was young, but seemed to be his age. Wondering what had happened to her, Yata gently poked the dark bruise on her temple, apparently causing her to open her eyes in a shot.

She screamed when she saw the boy figure so close to her, touching her temple. Yata screamed in response, scared with her scream. So fast that he couldn’t imagine how she did it, she got the metal tray that contained clean bandages and pointed at him. Yata fell on the floor on his ass and started pushing himself backwards until his back reached the wall.

“Who are you? Where am I?” She started asking desperately.

“Kusanagi-san!” Yata called for the second in command.

“What is this place? Who the fuck are you?” She asked more desperately.

“Kusanagi-san!” Yata screamed louder.

The door flew wide open and Kusanagi entered in a storm, only to stop calmly when he saw the girl.

“Oh, so you’re finally awake.”

“Where am I? Who are you?” She asked again, still pointing the metal tray to Yata.

“Why are you still pointing this to me?” The boy asked, getting up.

“My name is Kusanagi Izumo. I’m the second in command of HOMRA. And you are?” He was calm, standing a hand to the girl in an offer.

“Why am I here?”

“My friend saved you. He found you in an alley, almost dead. Do you remember any of that?”

The girl dropped the metal tray on the floor, causing an annoyed sound. She touched her injured temple, frowning.

“Unfortunately,” she finally said, hate consuming her eyes.

“The red,” said a small voice.

Anna was hidden behind Kusanagi, only peaking at the girl.

“What red? I don’t see anything…” Yata complained, scratching his head.

“How are you feeling?” Kusanagi asked.

“Where’s your friend?”

“He left, but he should be back at any time. How are you feeling?”

The girl’s eyes went straight to Yata, examining him and therefore embarrassing him.

“I’m okay. A bit tired.”

“Any pain?”

She nodded negatively.

“Wanna eat anything?”

As in response, her stomach growled. She turned her head, cheeks red.

“No need to be shy. Come, eat something,” Kusanagi pointed his head towards the door.

The girl hesitated, but Anna went straight to her, grabbing her hand and pushing her gently. Yata was the one to leave for last, sitting on the couch and giving some looks at the girl while she ate.

Totsuka Tatara finally arrived, making the room to be all noisy with his excited voice.

“You’re awake! Hi! I’m Totsuka Tatara, and you are?”

He left all his bags to fall on the floor to sit next to her, who seemed to be a little scared by all the sudden attention.

“Calm down, Tatara, you’re scaring her,” Kusanagi said.

Totsuka had the brightest and biggest smile on his face when he apologized. The girl took a moment to finally say:

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I was told you’re the one who helped me. Thank you,” her voice was weak, and before Yata could tell, she was crying, her shoulders trembling. “Thank you,” she repeated. “Thank you thank you thank you.”

Everyone in the bar didn’t know what to do, except for Totsuka, who gently grabbed Y/N’s hand.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he also had a gentle smile on his lips. The girl grabbed his shirt and leaned over it, soaking the cloth with her tears. Totsuka hugged her, tapping her shoulder blades. “There, there. It’s over now. You’re okay.”

“No,” she screamed in desperation. No one seemed to notice that Mikoto had gotten to the place. “It’s not over. It’s not over until he’s alive. He won’t give up until I’m dead too.”

“Who?” Totsuka asked carefully.

“He’s disgusting. I hate him. I hate him I hate him I hate him,” Y/N had her hands closed in a tight fist, causing her nails to open her palms and blood drip on the wooden floor.

“Hey, stop it!” Yata exclaimed. When the girl looked at him, he stuttered. “You’re hurting yourself.”

Y/N suddenly took notice of Suoh Mikoto, the Red King. She knew who he was, not because Kusanagi told her while she was eating, but because she heard around. Everyone knew who the red-haired man before her was. And she pretty damn well knew what he did.

She ran towards him, falling on her knees, bowing.

“Thank you. Thank you for allowing me to be healed here. Thank you, Red King.”

Mikoto kept eyeing the girl at his feet, not saying a word. It was impossible to even imagine what was passing through his mind.

“I ask only one thing, if you allow me,” Y/N said.

“What is it?” His deep voice said in return, serious.

“I have nothing. I have no one but myself. I have no purpose but to seek my revenge. Please, let me serve you as a payment for all you did. I’ll do so willingly, Red King.”

Everyone stood in shock at their places as they watched the scene. Yata’s heart was racing.

“Mikoto…” Kusanagi said before red flames engulfed Suoh Mikoto.

His eyes shone.

“Do you really intend it, little girl?”

“Yes. Yes, I do,” Y/N’s voice didn’t tremble as she looked up to Mikoto. “I meant every word I said. I’ll follow you loyally, anywhere you need me.”

“Is that so…?” Mikoto had a half smile, offering his hand to her, flames still engulfing him.

She’s gonna shake his hand, Yata thought.

Y/N stared at the flames, curiously, no fear in her eyes. She grabbed Mikoto’s hand, shaking once.

His red flames engulfed her as well, all of her body. This is so hot, she thought. A specific part of her body burned the most, but it wasn’t a hurtful burn; it was a good burn. She bit her lips to prevent the smile.

Once the flames were over, she felt it. Lifting the shirt that she had on - not before Yata turned his head, cheeks burning red -, she stared at the red mark on her left ribs, touching it with the tip of her fingers, amazed.

She looked up to Mikoto, placing a hand on her heart as she bowed a little, saying:

“My king.”

He shook his head once and went to the bar, being served by Kusanagi.

“This demands a celebration!” The bartender said, giving her a rootbeer float. “Here, finish your food. You need to recover your strength.”

But before sitting on the barstool, Y/N went to Totsuka Tatara.

“Thank you, Totsuka-san. I’ll be forever grateful that you saved my life.”

“I’m glad I did so,” he answered.

Y/N also shot a small smile at Yata, who had his cheeks immediately burning in red, looking away from her.

Y/N sat beside her King and started eating, gaining all the strength she needed to pursue her revenge.

#yata misaki #yata misaki x reader #yata misaki fic #k project #k project fic #misaki yata #misaki yata x reader #misaki yata fic

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heyyyharry · 4 years

Text

Chapter 2: Dead Or Alive

(from ‘The Winter and The Crown’)

…in which Y/N faces her first real defeat.

Word count: 6.1k

AU: queen!y/n, commander!harry

Description: Y/N and Harry set off on a new adventure to find ‘the cure’ for an ancient curse, meanwhile, the enemies are plotting to take her kingdom.

Wattpad link (Reyna as Y/N)

“Stay alive,” she’d said to him before they’d set off.

Of all the things she’d wanted to say, she’d chosen those two words. And he’d smiled at her, adjusted her shoulder pads and said, “You, too.”

She wished they could have kissed or at least hugged, but since they weren’t alone, they could only tell each other to stay alive. Stay alive because I’d rather it be me than you. Because you’re all I’ve got left. Because I don’t want to be alone.

Stay alive, Harry, she thought as she watched him mount his horse and then told herself, You too, Y/N. Stay alive.

She and Lance, followed by Harry, led a group of fifty veterans and horses and ten carriages carrying supplies to the northern border. This would be the first time she’d travelled there, which possibly explained the sinking feeling in her stomach. Either that or something bad was going to happen, and she didn’t want to presume it was the latter. Once in a while, Y/N would keep glancing over her shoulder to check on Harry, despite the fact that he couldn’t just vanish into thin air.

“To be honest, I’m quite offended,” Lance said as they rode knee to knee. “I did my hair nicely today and you wouldn’t even notice.”

“Your hair looks the same.”

“See? You wouldn’t even notice,” he said with a smirk, and she pretended to try to shove him off his white horse.

“What’s her name?” she asked.

“Midnight.”

“You named your white horse Midnight?”

“You’re just jealous that my horse’s name is more intimidating than your horse’s,” he scoffed, eyeing her stallion. “Thunder? Really?”

Thunder huffed in disgust and walked faster to get ahead of Lance. Y/N couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the look on the King’s face, and suddenly, she was glad Lance had come with them; someone must distract her from this unwilling anxiety.

By the time the sun was directly overhead, they’d reached the northern forest. It was all so quiet until someone at the back shouted, “Look!” Harry lifted a hand, and everyone stalled. In front of them was a giant pillar of smoke rising from the tops of the trees, blackening the white sky.

“Fire,” Y/N and Lance said at the same time then exchanged the same worrying look. She knew he could feel it, too. Trouble.

“Your Majesty—” Harry began, but she didn’t let him finish.

“We must save them.”

“Y/N!” Harry snapped; he didn’t care if that was disrespectful to his Queen, but Y/N didn’t care, either. Her people were dying and she was here. She could not turn a blind eye to it and flee.

She looked to her left. “Lance?”

The King pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered, ‘fuck’ under his breath. He didn’t try to talk her out of it, so she took it as a yes and kicked her horse into a gallop, heading for the smoke pillar. High-pitched screams of men, women and children from the distance urged her to ride as fast as she could, ducking all the branches and holding tightly onto Thunder.

When she turned to her left, there was Lance, riding on Midnight. On her right was Harry; he’d caught up with them, his face pinched with a scowl, and she wasn’t sure if he was angry at the situation or at her. As their eyes met, she cast him a look that was meant to be an apology and could only hope that he understood.

They continued chasing the screams. The quieter it got, the louder Y/N’s heart was pounding. Soon they broke out of the forest into an open field. Y/N was the first to get there, but it was already too late.

The village was afire in a dozen places. The houses had burned almost to the ground. Black corpses were scattered all over the blood-stained snow. If there had been animals, there weren’t any now. Nothing but silence and emptiness.

Y/N felt tears sting her eyes but she didn’t let herself cry in front of her men. Most of them expected her to be the scared little girl who would run home as soon as she saw dead people.

Sadly, they were right. Y/N felt sick in her stomach. She wanted to leave. This wasn’t a good idea. And yet, she sat frozen on Thunder’s back and took in the devastating scene before her eyes, and for one second, she could have sworn she saw Egon crawling out of the ashes. But it was just a man, or a woman, burned from head toes, wiggling desperately before going limp.

“Find those who are still alive,” she heard Harry say. “Rescue as many as you can.” She turned to him, looking through the tears, and when he mouthed at her, “I got you,” she felt partly relieved. She had to remind herself that she wasn’t alone in this. He was here. And they would fight together if they had to.

“Scared?” Lance asked. She wondered if the look on his face was supposed to be mocking or sympathetic, but she didn't reply and redirected her horse, following Harry.

They rode silently side by side, passing the houses that were still ablaze and looking for signs of life in the burning ruins. Smoke made her eyes water some more and she covered her mouth with the fur of her coat.

“You’re good?” Harry asked. She liked the businesslike sound of the question. It reminded her that this was serious, and she still needed to keep her guards up even when there were just the two of them.

Still, she had to ask, “Are you mad at me?”

Harry pulled Lightning to a halt and turned to her. A line appeared between his brows. “I’m mad at myself.”

“Why?”

“I should have been more creative at convincing you to stay home,” he said, a corner of his mouth arched.

“There was nothing you could have done to make me stay home,” she told him.

“I could have threatened to hang myself or something, maybe jump out of the window.”

“Don’t say that!”

He smiled that beautiful smile, and a scream tore through the silence, sharp and thin. Thunder huffed unhappily and turned around as if he could sense where it’d come from. He galloped ahead and Lightning quickly followed.

The horses stopped near a burning house and Thunder’s ears swivelled; at the same time, Y/N spotted a slender dark shape. She slid down Thunder’s back, caught the woman by the arms and dragged her back from the flames. Her hands came away sticky with blood. The woman made a fainter sound of pain, unable to speak. The light of the burning house illuminated her. She’d had her throat cut, but not well enough to kill her at once.

She’d also been pregnant. Y/N laid a hand on her belly, but it didn’t stir, and there was a great, dripping wound there. The woman was gasping, her lips blue and cracked. Her dim eyes sought Y/N’s face as Y/N took her bloody hand in hers.

“My child,” the woman whispered. “Where is she? I can’t hear her cry.”

Y/N could feel Harry watching her from his horse. She could feel the weight of his powerless look on her shoulders. They both knew this woman was going to die in Y/N’s arms. Like Jo had. Y/N had managed to bring Jo back, but she didn't have magic to save this poor woman.

“Did they—“ the woman gasped. “Did they hurt my baby?”

“No,” Y/N uttered, smiling despite her tears. “Your child is safe. Don’t you worry. Be at peace.”

She knew she’d be damned for eternity for lying to a dying person, but this woman was facing a painful death and the last thing she needed was to hear that her child had never made it into this world.

Y/N was soaked with the woman’s blood and burning with shame, that she’d been hiding behind the curtain walls for months while these innocent folks paid for the anger she’d caused. She held the dead body of a stranger to her chest, then began to weep.

“Someone is here,” Harry said. Y/N snapped her head up to find her lover’s face taut with listening. “Someone—”

The bitter wind rose to a shriek, but not loud enough to mask the howl and thump of an arrow. One of her soldiers cried out. Y/N’s stomach twisted when she saw strong men on stocky horses riding down on them from every side, blades flashing in the high winter sun.

“AMBUSH!” she shouted and vaulted to her horse just as Harry roared, “ATTACK!”

The horses reared, startled by the first rush, and more arrows fell. The men drew together at once, surrounding their Queen. No one panicked. All the men were veterans who had ridden with her father in his wars.

The attackers galloped straight toward Y/N's men. The two groups met body to body, and then the swords rang out—swords? Y/N stiffened. How did folks carry such expensive weapons?

When Y/N caught Harry’s eyes, she believed he shared the same thought, but this wasn’t time for theories. In a second, everything turned to madness. Y/N blocked a spear-thrust, split the shaft with a downstroke, and cut down viciously, felling the first man who tried her. Thunder reared and lashed out with his forefeet, and three more attackers, riding smaller horses, drew back in fear. Right at that moment, a vision flashed before Y/N’s eyes. The same one with a blade thrusting through Harry’s chest. “Harry!” she snapped. “Get out! Don’t—”

But he was fighting on his own, unbothered by her warning. Lightning was helping her rider as much as she could, her kicks sending the enemies flying; her hooves caved in their skulls. Y/N took a sword-stroke to the forearm, yelped out in pain, and beheaded the man who gave it to her.

How many of them could there be? They couldn’t outnumber her group, could they?

She saw Lance’s white horse kick out, breaking a man’s leg and sending his horse crashing to the snow. Lance gutted another and booted him out of the saddle. A few of her own men fell, and then the battle grew desperate.

“Harry!” snapped Y/N. “Get out of there!”

But he couldn’t. He’d been cornered to a burning house, and Y/N’s heart stopped as she watched him being thrown off Lightning’s back.

“No!” she roared and kicked Thunder into a gallop towards Harry, but before she could reach him, she heard a whistle of an arrow and Thunder neighed loudly before he collapsed. A bone cracked. She was stuck under her horse. “Get up, boy! Get up!” she screamed desperately while trying to seek Harry in the chaos. A man charged toward him, and he retrieved his sword fast enough to stop the first blow.

Y/N mustered all her strength to free herself from Thunder. The horse was alive but badly wounded. Y/N was in tears when she decided to leave the poor animal lying there and limped toward Harry. She swung her sword and killed two men who came at her.

“Y/N!” Harry shouted.

She turned quickly and the man who was holding a sword above his head fell to her feet. Lance was behind him, his blade dripping with red blood. Their eyes met and he gave her a shove. “Go! I’ll help Harry!”

A horse charged out of nowhere and kicked Lance hard. His body hit a trunk of a tree but he managed to get up fast enough to fence another strike. Y/N gutted another man, still fighting her way toward Harry in case Lance could not. But then she recognised the scene.

Harry fell to his knees, his weapon sliding out of his grip, and he brought his hands up to his stomach, his eyes sought hers as blood came pouring out of the fresh wound.

A scream tore through her. She didn’t even know if she’d just called out his name. She’d seen this in her dream last night and many nights before. She tried to run with a broken ankle but she couldn't be faster than the arrow flying straight into her back. She felt nothing when she crashed for the second time. The sounds around her were muffled. The world blurred around the edges. Before her vision turned black, she saw Lance fall into a puddle of his own blood and the man standing beside Harry lift his blade.

Y/N awoke screaming.

She was in her bed. Had it all been a dream? “Harry! Harry!”

“Y/N, it’s me. It’s Jo!” Jo caught Y/N right before she could throw herself out of the bed and tugged her into her arms. As Y/N tried to break away, the sharp pain at her back numbed her all over.

So it hadn’t been a dream. She was really hurt. This was real. The battle had been real. Where was Harry? Where was Lance? Were they dead? Was she?

All those questions and she could not utter a single sound as she began to cry and could not stop. Why was she here? What had happened after she’d been shot?

“Shhh, you’re safe,” Jo whispered in her ear. “You’re home. You’re safe. You’ve been sleeping for three days now. Lance will be so happy to know you’re awake.”

“I want to see Harry.”

“Y/N–”

“Tell him to come in here!” She pulled back and clutched Jo’s arms. Her maid looked frightened, but not of her. “If he’s hurt so bad he cannot walk, I’ll come to him. Just let me–”

She pushed away from Jo and rose from the bed only for her legs to give in and she fell to the carpeted floor. That was when she realized that her ankle was broken. Jo got on her knees beside Y/N and held her by the shoulders as she called for Lance. It didn’t take long for him to burst into the room and staggered toward them. As he kneeled down, she noticed that his hand was bandaged, and he’d lost a finger. Shivers raced through her.

What had happened to Harry?

When Lance cupped her face, it was the first time he’d given her the look that made her feel like a deer before the hunter shot it down. Lance’s words shot her down just like that. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

“No…” she sobbed, shaking her head despite him holding it. “No, no, no, no. It was my fault. I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t save him…”

“Y/N, stop, you’re bleeding!” she heard Jo said but she continued to swing her arms and the back of her hand collided with Jo’s face, sending the maid down to her back. Jo was crying, too.

“Leave us,” Lance told the maid, his voice cool and calm, but it was just an act because his remaining fingers were shaking against Y/N’s cheek. He was stronger than Jo, so he managed to gather her into his arms despite her resistance. She fought for another moment and eventually surrendered. He held her until her voice was lost and her eyes were dry.

For the next couple of days, Y/N didn’t eat. She stayed in the tower and stared out of the window from dusk till dawn. And at night, she lay awake until exhaustion lulled her to sleep. Jo slept in Y/N’s bed now; she didn’t trust Y/N to be alone, and Lance returned once in a while to check on her.

On the third day, she finally asked Jo about what had happened. Jo had told her that they could have been all dead if Harry hadn’t ordered another group of veterans to go after them. Though they’d shown up a bit too late, they’d been able to rescue Lance and Y/N and all the survivors. Thunder, Lightning and Midnight, though wounded, were also brought back alive.

Y/N had said nothing about it. She hadn’t even asked to see Harry’s body. She’d not said a word about him, and neither Jo nor Lance mentioned him to her because neither knew how to comfort her.

Meanwhile, the whole court was in turmoil without their Queen. People said that she was dead and that Lance was hiding her body in the tower while plotting on taking the throne. Jo had advised her to make an appearance to pacify the court. Y/N had said she’d think about it. But Jo knew it was just a way of saying she didn’t care, and that she’d rather the rumour be true. Lance had tried to calm the people by lying that the Queen had not yet recovered. Jo didn’t know if it was just a part of his plan in taking power into his own hands; she did not trust him at all.

It was the first day of the second week. Y/N’s health had shown some improvement though not significant, and she was eating again. On her way to bring food to the Queen, Jo heard from one of the other maids that the King was interrogating one of the attackers in the dungeon.

The investigation team had been searching around the battlefield for bodies of Isolde soldiers, and they’d caught that man in a pile of dead bodies. He’d been half-dead, half-alive when they’d brought him back to the castle and had recently regained consciousness. Lance had been interrogating him the entire morning, and when Jo broke the news to Y/N, she saw a flash of hope or the first sign of life in Y/N’s eyes. The Queen shot herself out of bed and limped barefoot down the castle corridor. Jo picked up her skirt and chased after Y/N. Y/N was still wearing her nightgown, her hair uncombed and she was not in her right mind to care about her virtue.

When she arrived, Lance was there with two guards and they were all in shock. Jo wasn’t sure if the guards were shocked because their Queen was still alive, or because of how she looked – no better than a walking corpse. But she knew Lance was shocked because Y/N had finally left her chamber.

She walked up to him and looked in the face of the enemy behind bars. The man was half-naked and his upper body was covered with seeping wounds. He’d lost an eye but that didn’t stop him from grinning maniacally as he saw the Queen standing there in her nightgown. Jo could tell that Y/N wanted to smash his teeth in for giving her that look.

“Would you like to question him?” Lance spoke softly as if there were only him and Y/N.

Y/N clenched her fists at her sides. “Has he said anything yet?”

“No. Not a single word.”

“Have you tried beating him?”

Y/N didn’t cast a single look at Lance, so she couldn’t see the horrified look he was giving her. Jo pressed her lips together, gripping her skirt. She didn’t like this side of Y/N at all.

Calmly, Lance said, “Yes.”

“Maybe cut off his fingers and he’ll talk.”

“Your Majesty–” Jo interjected, and Lance shushed her at once.

“You dirty little whore,” the prisoner finally said, his voice full of contempt. The two guards standing on either side of the cell immediately stepped forward, but Y/N put up one hand for them to stay where they were.

Jo wondered what was on her best friend’s mind. At this point, she was too afraid to find out.

The man spat and bared his blood-stained teeth. “You can cut me to pieces,” he hissed, “and I still won’t say a word. You don’t deserve the throne you’re sitting on, little girl. Look at yourself, do you see a queen? I see a whore who thinks she’s the Queen just because she puts on pretty dresses and wears a crown.”

All eyes were fixed on Y/N, waiting for her reaction. It was so quiet that Jo could hear the beating of her own heart. Lance, who managed to look the calmest, was breathing heavily as he watched Y/N’s face with a look of concern.

“Open the cell.”

“Y/N–” Lance started.

“Do it,” Y/N snapped at the guard on her right, and he frantically pulled out his keys and unlocked the prisoner’s cell.

Lance snatched Y/N’s wrist, but she yanked her hand away. Meanwhile, Jo gathered her courage and took a step closer. She saw Y/N glaring down at the prisoner whose hands and feet were chained.

The Queen tightened her fists. Then, she kicked him in the stomach. Jo gasped, a hand flew to her mouth as Y/N’s foot collided with the man’s jaw, sending saliva and blood splashing onto her white dress. Jo was stiff with terror and the next thing she knew was the guards dragging the Queen out of the cell by Lance’s order.

Y/N was punching and kicking and screaming. She said that she’d skin the man alive for what he’d done. Jo didn’t think she cared if this man wasn’t the one who’d killed Harry. She just wanted revenge. She just wanted someone to pay for the death of the man she loved.

The guards were twice bigger than Y/N so they didn’t budge as she fought them. They twisted her arms behind her back and yanked her away from the cell like a ragdoll. Jo threw herself at them and tried to pry Y/N out of their grips.

“Let her go!” She whipped her head to Lance. “Tell them to let the Queen go!”

“Take her to her chamber and tie her to the bed,” Lance said with a dismissive wave. “No one’s to attend her for the rest of the day.”

“No!” Jo screamed as a guard shoved her out of the way and carried a screaming Y/N on his shoulder out of the dungeon. Jo turned back to Lance. She was filled with anger as tears started running down her cheeks. “What do you think you’re doing?! You’re not our King! You’re disrespecting the Queen!”

Lance gave her a stern look, his face contorted slightly before returning to his usual unbothered expression. He didn’t say a word as he sidestepped her and followed the guards.

“Is he awake?”

Where am I?

“Barely.”

“Someone please clean him up. He smells like shit.”

Peach…

“How long will it take?”

“At least six months, Your Grace.”

Where am I? Who are these people? I can’t see.

“Six months? You’re telling me I have to keep him alive for six months?”

“At least.”

Peach, are you alive? Where are you?

“Very well. But if this doesn’t work, I’ll behead you myself.”

“This will work, Your Grace. I assure you. But you must send a physician. I can’t do it if he’s bleeding like this.”

“Guards, send a physician to treat his wounds! And you better do your job.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Peach…

“Stay alive, Harry. We’ll release you but you must stay alive.”

Dead or alive, I’ll come back to you, Peach. I’ll never leave you alone…

“I’m sorry, Harry. I really am…”

“Get out, you piece of shit!” Y/N screamed at Lance the moment he stepped through the threshold. He didn’t say a word, his expression unreadable as he padded to the bed and peered down at her. She was sitting with her back against the headboard and her wrists tied to a bedpost. She was ashamed and furious. She never should have trusted him. For all she knew, he could have planned the attack himself. Or he’d been waiting for her to break and somehow got lucky.

“Get out,” she hissed as he sat on the edge of her bed.

Still not talking, he reached for the rope that bound her wrists.

“Your Majesty,” a guard said, making Lance stop. “The Queen’s not herself. She might be dangerous.”

Lance looked over his shoulder. “I don’t need you to warn me about my wife. Now leave us and shut the door.”

Y/N was startled and confused at the same time. She guessed the guard was, too, but he left without asking more questions, leaving her alone with the King.

Lance heaved a sigh as his eyes finally found hers. “Will you promise not to hurt me if I untie you?”

She looked away, clenching her jaw.

“Y/N,” he warned.

She pursed her lips and took a breath. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I promise not to hurt you.”

He nodded and untied her. As soon as she got free, she wasted no time to throw herself at him, shoving him against the wall with a loud thump. He seized her wrists, but not hard enough and she could still pound her fists at his chest. He didn’t even push her back. She was much lighter than him. Why was he just standing there?

“Fight back! What are you doing?! Fight back! Hurt me.”

She didn’t know why she started crying. But she couldn’t stop. And then she surrendered and slipped down onto the floor. If he wanted to kill her now, he could do it with his eyes closed. And yet, Lance sat down in front of her, crossing his legs, still holding her wrists but his fingers had loosened.

“Are you done?” he asked quietly.

Sobbing, she gave a nod.

“Good. Now listen.”

He placed his fingers underneath her chin and tilted her head up. His grey eyes looked darker here and his brows slightly furrowed. They were sitting so close she could see the cut on his cheek. It looked fresh; he’d probably got it from the battle. She knew it would heal at one point and probably wouldn’t leave any scar, but it was strange to see an imperfection on his face.

“Did you see how easy it was for me to command your guards to tie you up?” he began, looking serious. For a second, she thought he looked and sounded just like her father. “That’s how loyal they are to you, Y/N. They don’t take you seriously because you don’t take yourself seriously.” Lance brought his hand to her cheek. This time, she didn’t flinch. “I know it’s been hard for you,” he said. “But Jo and I are the only two people in this castle who know about your loss. The court thinks you’re weak and afraid and a joke. Would your father be happy if he knew his heir is like this? Would Harry? How about your mother? Would she be happy to see how you chose to act as a queen?”

Y/N didn’t speak, her eyes glued to the floor.

Lance continued, “You can grieve. You can be angry. You can cry. You can even hit me; I’ll let you if it makes you feel better. But outside this room, I want you to be the Queen people expect you to be. I want you to show them that you are not weak. You are not a target. You are not the prey. Show them they can count on you to lead them and keep them safe. Think about the innocent people who died in the attack. We’re the lucky ones who live, Y/N. We have to live for them.”

He waited for her to say something, and when she remained silent, his thumb brushed her cheek. “Can you do that, Y/N? I know that fearless queen is still in you. Can you bring her back to me?”

She looked at his left hand and saw the missing pinky and her heart pained a little. She licked her lip and finally nodded.

“Good girl.”

She averted her eyes, not wanting to look at him as shame washed over her like a tidal wave. She expected him to stand up and leave. But he continued holding her face like that. Like she was the most fragile thing he’d ever touched.

“Look,” he began again. “You and I might be the loneliest people in the world, but at least we’re in this together.”

“I know,” she heard herself say. Lance let out a breathy chuckle.

Then his voice turned grim again. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save him. But I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” She glanced up to his face and saw him smiling wistfully. “I can’t keep you safe if it’s you who endanger yourself.”

She pursed her lips. “How’s your leg?”

Lance lifted his shoulders. “The physician said that I’d have to walk with a limp for the rest of my life, but I can still ride a horse, not sure if I can shoot arrows with four fingers, though…”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I should not have led everyone to that village. It was all my fault.”

“No, you did the right thing. It was just bad luck.”

Y/N didn’t think luck had anything to do with this, but she did not argue.

“You asked me if I really thought I could marry for love,” Lance said.

“That was a joke,” Y/N mumbled. “An evil one. I’m sorry for that, too.”

Lance smiled a little. “The answer is yes. I did.” Then he released her face and dropped his hand. “I met her at a market,” he said, staring at his hands on his lap. “Her name was Daliah, and she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. My father killed her. She was seventeen.”

Y/N thinned her lips. Her stomach dropped. She knew Lance had secrets; who didn’t? But that wasn’t anything she’d expected.

“Well, he tried to kill me,” Lance said. “I wasn’t the son he wanted, and when I turned sixteen, I bought myself a ship and became captain and left the life in court to travel the world. My father got angry.

“On my seventeenth birthday, my crew, Daliah and I were drinking in a tavern when a group of men with swords and daggers burst in. We tried to fight back but most of us were drunk. Nearly half of my crew was slaughtered that night. Dalilah and I managed to escape through the back, but they caught up with us and they killed her. I survived. It wasn’t until a year later that I found out my father had sent those men to kill me.”

“I’m so sorry,” Y/N said. “Was that why you said you’d protect Harry for me?”

He nodded. “Don’t tell anyone, all right? I’d like people to continue to fear me.”

Seeing the humour on his face again made Y/N feel quite relieved. “Your secret’s safe with me,” she snorted. “And...I’m sorry for doubting you...and for hitting you...”

“I’m sorry for tying you up,” he said. “Well, for ordering the guards to tie you up.”

She smirked and rolled her eyes. “Never do the dirty work yourself?”

Lance gave a shrug. “What’s the point of having servants if you have to do things yourself?”

They laughed at that, then fell back to silence.

“I want to see Harry’s body,” Y/N said after what seemed like a minute, and from Lance’s expression, she could tell he was taken aback. “To say goodbye,” she added. “I promise I won’t go mad again.”

Lance only stared at her. She regarded him tentatively until he said, “There’s no body.”

She blinked. “What?”

“We’ve been looking everywhere and couldn’t find his body.”

For the first time in two weeks, Y/N finally found a spark of hope. She straightened and pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. “He could still be alive,” she blurted.

“Y/N,” Lance warned when she rose to her feet. He grabbed the edge of the table beside them and pulled himself up as he started pacing back and forth.

“I don’t believe Harry’s dead until I see his body,” she said. “His body can’t just disappear.”

“Wild animals can take it during the night…”

Those words froze her to the spot. She caught the look of guilt upon his face and realized he regretted having said that. She wasn’t angry at him, though. He was just talking like a normal person with common sense, and he could be right. Still, she hoped he was wrong, and she wasn’t discouraged. If anything, she was more determined to look for Harry now that she knew they’d never found his body.

“Have you sent news to his family—”

“No,” Lance said. “Not yet. But don’t you dare consider looking for him, Y/N. I don’t want you to get your hopes up and—”

“Just think about it! Something feels wrong, Lance!”

“What do you mean?”

“The attack,” she said, closing the distance between them until she was as close to him as she’d been before. “Those men were carrying swords.”

“Yes, I got my finger cut off so—”

“How could every single one of them carry a sword, Lance? Folks cannot afford those expensive weapons.”

Lance’s eyes went wide as realization dawned on his face. “You’re saying that it was a set up?”

“I don’t know.” Y/N threw her hands in the air. “Maybe.”

“Calanthe?”

“That’d be my first guess, but she’s closed the border, and the North has always hated the South. I know my people don’t want me as their Queen, but they would rather have me than Calanthe.”

Lance’s face twisted as it seemed like he was sinking into deep thoughts.

“I’m telling you,” Y/N said, “something is wrong. So maybe Harry’s alive and someone’s holding him captive for a reason. But it might not be Calanthe. For all I know, a lot of people want me dead.”

“But why Harry?” Lance asked.

Y/N didn’t know, either. On second thought, none of those theories made sense to her. Perhaps she was making things up just so she could believe that Harry wasn’t really gone.

“Dead or alive, he must be here with me,” she told Lance. “So until his body’s found, I cannot accept that he’s dead. Just give me a few months. Don’t send news to his family yet. If we still can’t find him after a few months then we’ll tell them and...and I’ll let him go. But I don’t want to give up without a fight, Lance.”

Y/N didn’t fully believe in her own words. She knew she would never truly move on if she kept clinging onto the hope of finding him. And she could see the same doubt in Lance’s dark grey eyes as he considered her like she was mad and speaking nonsense.

“All right,” he said, to her surprise. “But will you promise that you’ll get back to running the court?”

She nodded fast. “Of course.”

Lance nodded once. “Then I’ll have people look for him. Now get some rest. I’ll call for Jo.”

“Actually,” she stopped him before he walked out of the door. Y/N felt pain in her chest as she saw him standing in the glow from the corridor and remembered her last night with Harry. She shook it off and worked up a smile. “Let Jo rest tonight. She’s been here every night. I’ve troubled her enough.”

Lance seemed hesitant. “Would you...want me to stay?” She stared at him. And he seemed amused. “Don’t be so horrified, baby dove. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“You? On the floor? Oh, please I’d love to see that.”

“Maybe not on the floor.” Lance looked around the room. “That chair by the fire looks comfortable enough. But if you feel bad about it, we can share the bed.”

Y/N crossed her arms and sneered at him. “You can stay up all night if that’s what you want, but we’re not sleeping in the same bed.”

Lance shook his head as his mouth curled to its favoured side. “Fine. Your loss.”

“What’s your name?”

“Harry Styles.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty.”

“Who are your family? Do you remember them?”

“Um...My father’s dead. So, my ma, my sister...oh, and there’s also Kenny…”

“Who’s Kenny?”

“We grew up together.”

“Do you know who Y/N Y/L/N is?”

“Sorry?”

“Y/N Y/L/N. Does that name sound familiar to you?”

“It’s familiar, but–”

“Do you know who that is?”

“Can you repeat the name?”

“Y/N...Y/L/N...Well? Do you?”

“No. No, I don’t.”

(end of chapter 2)

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles series #harry styles

111 notes · View notes

vangoghmusings · 4 years

Note

pls,, may I request a Kirishima angst fic where his s/o is trapped in a burning building because she ran in to try to save people? and the authorities are being difficult and trying to stop him from going in. all the angst,, all the post angst comfort fluff.

a/n: thanks for requesting!! so sorry for getting to this so late! but i hope you still like it :) i really enjoyed writing this since i don’t do a lot of angsty/sad stuff, so thanks again for the awesome request!!

pairing: eijiro kirishima x hero!reader

word count: 1,686

Kirishima and Y/N arrived at the scene. A villain with a fire quirk had set an industrial complex aflame. While the villain was nowhere to be found, the two pro heroes arrive just in time. The building is old, and they fear it would collapse with so many civilians inside.

The two heroes ran in together. Kirishima had activated his quirk and ran inside, Y/N by his side. It was an intense rescue mission like this that made Kirishima’s stomach churn.

Y/N and Kirishima had worked side by side at the same agency from the time he had graduated UA High. Y/N had graduated from Shiketsu High. Despite the rivalry between alma maters, the two got incredibly close. Kirishima had developed feelings that led him to pine after them constantly, while Y/N was incredibly oblivious. He started his day bringing them tea and breakfast and ended it with face-times and phonecalls. Nothing made him happier than seeing her grin at the smell of warm tea or her name on his screen. And yet, despite all his efforts, Y/N was utterly clueless. Kirishima knew he loved her, but he’d never admit it to himself, or anyone else for that matter.

They gave each other a quick nod of reassurance before parting ways in the building, helping as many people as they could. Kirishima picked up and held people upon his shoulders. Running back and forth, in and out of the building, he saved lives. But something was in the back of his mind. He knew Y/N’s quirk wasn’t fit for a place of smoke and immense heat. He shook his head and set another pair of civilians down outside. Y/N came rushing out, setting down more injured people. Their face was gray, covered in patches of smog and dust. They heaved a deep sigh and looked up at Kirishima with uncertainty.

“There’s a boiler room that's been unchecked.”

Kirishima furrowed his brows.

“Boiler room? Y/N that's the pit of the flames, whoever’s in there is already dead-”

“That's a guess I can’t believe in. Heroes risk their lives Red Riot,” They said with a soft smile. It was an attempt to reassure him, but it didn’t help. Before he could stop them, Y/N ran back inside. They were already inside, but something shifted. Literally.

Kirishima’s eyes widened in horror as the ceilings of the complex began to crumble. The wood had already been set aflame, but now the floors above were beginning to collapse. The scream ripped through his chest before he could process what he was seeing. The building was going to collapse, with Y/N in it. They would be dead for sure.

“Wait!”

A police officer stopped him, placing their hand on his chest.

“Red Riot, please do not risk your life-”

“Shut up!” He growled. He became more animalistic, the fear of losing them filling his veins. He had to do something and he had to be fast.

He watched as the floors above were beginning to fold in. Kirishima pushed back against the officers with strength and ran inside. Pleads for the Hero to come back, to not risk his life, were shouted, but he ignored them. His life meant nothing if Y/N wasn’t by his side.

He groaned in pain as the ashes seared his eyes. He got down on his knees, his gaze averting the heavy smoke. His eyes darted around in search of the stairwell. Once it was spotted he ran towards it, skipping the steps with a leap. He was right, the flames were incredibly high here.

“Y/N?” He shouted. He looked around, trying his best to ignore the burning ache the flames were conducting as they licked him. He tried his best to look through the smoke, and then he spotted them.

Y/N was pinned down under a metal beam that fallen, crushing their lungs. Kirishima lunged forward, using as much possible force from his quirk to lift up the beam. He yelled as he held the beam on his back, balancing it while grabbing Y/N’s body. He dropped the beam and cradled them close. There was no time to check a pulse, he knew the building was seconds from crushing both of them.

He rushed out, the clean air filling his lungs. He coughed, weakly clutching Y/N as tight as he could. As he ran, it seemed that the fire department had arrived and was beginning to hose down the flames.

“Medic, please I need a medic!”

Kirishima cried and looked down at the body in his arms. Y/N laid limply, unconscious and it seemed that they were breathing either.

“No, no, no, NO!” He roared, his shout laced with agony.

Before he knew it Y/N was whisked out of his arms and taken into an ambulance. He ran behind, weakly limping into the ambulance.

“Red Riot, this is {hero name} correct?”

He nodded to one of the many medics as the ambulance began to move. He coughed, his lungs still filled with smog. Another medic began tending to his burns and wounds. But his eyes were focused on Y/N.

An oxygen tank had been attacked to their face, pumping air into her lungs. They were breathing, which assured Kirishima that they were alive. How ever, they hadn’t awakened. And yet, he questioned how much pain they were in. The thought brought tears to his eyes. He hated it when the two left a mission and Y/N wound up injured. He always blamed himself, but they always bounced back with a smile on their face, ready for the next mission. He always admired their tenacity, it was one of the many reasons he loved them. But now, he was angered.

How could they put themselves in such deliberate danger? For pride? For a heroic moral code? He couldn’t understand. They put their lives on the line, proving that they were a better hero than himself. And that alone was another reason that he couldn’t risk to lose them.

According to the doctors, the beam had initially fallen in Y/N’s head, causing blunt force trauma to the skull. Because of that hit, the had fallen unconscious. The beam thus rolled off and pinned them in place on the floor, and that's how Kirishima found them. This is what the doctors had gathered from examining the x-ray and wounds. Y/N had entered comatose from the head trauma and had broken 5 ribs and a spinal fracture. Not to mention the burns and cuts they had endured from the fire alone.

When Kirishima heard the list of injuries they had, he practically fainted. How was he able to leave unscathed and Y/N was now stuck with a coma. One thing that granted him relief was that their ribs took the most impact if the spinal fracture had been worse, it could have pinched a nerve or vertebra, leading to paralyzation. At least that was good.

He never left Y/N’s side. Day and night he stayed at the hospital, keeping watch and waiting for any moment that they would wake up. He was missing out on missions, but it didn’t matter. No mission could be more important than missing out on seeing Y/N wake up. However, Kirishima greatly missed his daily routine. Bringing Y/N their morning tea. The smile on their face when smelling their favorite aroma. The squeeze of a grateful hug. The exciting way they’d pinch his cheeks when they wanted him to smile. The “oh my god Eijiro, you won’t believe what just happened to me” they’d shout into the phone when he would pick up. They were all his favorite parts of the day.

Yet, he couldn’t be too upset, he was spending his entire day by their side. Although their head was bandaged and their chest was casted, he was able to hold their hand. Day in and day out he clutched their hand, rubbing circles on the back of their hand with his thumb. Despite the cuts and scratches, their skin was still soft, and it brought Kirishima peace. However, guilt consumed him when he would let go of Y/N’s hand to wipe his tears away. His eyes were buried in his palms as he sobbed. He was infuriated with himself. If he didn’t hold them back, it should’ve been his life on the line, that would’ve been the manly and dignified thing to do. But instead, he was faced with their unconscious image every morning when he woke up. He received countless of calls and visits, many to check on Y/N, but also to beg him to come home. It was degrading his mental health. He wasn’t eating, his sleep was minimal, trying his best to stay awake, and to be frank, he looked like a mess. He had left only a few times to get food and shower, but the rest of his time was dedicated to keeping watch on Y/N. He had lost his light and everyone else was able to notice it but him. Kirishima was more aware than ever of his feelings for Y/N however and had promised himself that he would tell them he loved them the moment they woke up. And that was the reason he rarely left their side.

Kirishima had come back to the hospital after going home and taking a swift shower and grabbing food. He was once again saddened by seeing an unconscious Y/N. By instinct, he pulled their hand into his and took a sip of his drink. But this time was different. Y/N held back.

The drink nearly flew out of his hand when he realized that Y/N fingers were wrapping around his hand. It was similar to that of a baby holding onto their mother’s finger. His eyes widened, he tried his best not to freak out. He wasn’t sure whether or not to call a doctor but he just froze, waiting to see what would move next. Kirishima’s breath hitched as he watched their cheekbones twitch. Slowly, after what seemed like forever, Y/N’s eyes flew open. Wincing slightly, they turned their head to see who was holding their hand.

“Eijiro?”

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gh0stfacesho3 · 5 years

Text

Soft Skin

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warning: Gore, kidnapping, and death

Word Count: +2.6 k words

Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own Criminal Minds or its characters.

Summary: You’ve been working with the BAU for about a year now. You had finally found your groove on the force and got really comfortable with the rest of the team, that was until your most recent case.

You walked into the conference room seeing J.J. handing out new files for what you assumed would be the new case. You grabbed a file and sat down between Rossi and Prentiss, across from Reid.

“You’re late,” Hotch said coldly.

“You’re cheery,” you started, getting a chuckle from Morgan, “and yeah sorry about that sir, bit of traffic.” You said with a embarrassed smile. You opened up your file, seeing the pictures of the latest victim. See while they don’t bother you as much as they used to, it’s still not something you wanna see.

“So far all four victims are female that are taken and held for about a week or two before being killed. Each victim is found with a gunny sack on their heads, showing the killer has a sign of guilt or remorse. The victims also have cut marks, ligature marks, burns, even removal of finger and toe nails, but none of that killed the victims. The cause of death was always a shot in the heart.” J.J. explained as she slightly paced back and forth. You could tell everyone was rubbed the wrong way about this, especially when there was no drugs found in the victim's bloodstream, meaning the victim felt everything.

“He likes inflicting pain, makes him feel like he is in control.” Morgan said, rubbing his forehead.

“Why just he? Why not them?” You asked standing up, walking to the bored with the pictures from the scene,

“What do you mean them? You think its two?” Emily asked.

“Yes, I mean, look at all the wounds. The cutting, some are extremely deep while others show signs of hesitation. Same thing for the burns, strangling, and even the removal of the nails. Its almost as if one was trying to show him how to do it. So we could possibly be looking for a close bond of two males who are in their late 20s to mid 30s. Could be brothers, cousins, or best friends. The older, more dominate one is trying to show the other unsub the ropes so the dominate unsub could be like a father figure to the younger.” I explained to them all.

“She has a point but what if its like one of our previous cases where the unsub has multiple personality?” Reid ask, thinking back to the time he was kidnapped.

“That could be a possibility but I think the submissive one would’ve been able to give the victim a type of pain killer if it was a someone with multiple personality disorder.” Hotch said as he looked intently at the bored.

“Well, let’s head to lil ol’ Oklahoma,” You said with a small smile. Everyone made their way to the jet and discussed the case some more here and there. You were sitting next to Reid when your eyelids started to get heavy. You quietly fell asleep, your head falling onto Reid’s shoulder.

“I wonder what’s been on her mind?” Reid asked, looking down at you then back up to the team.

“What do you mean?” J.J. questioned.

“When she saw the file this morning, her entire demeanor changed.” Morgan shot in, knowing what Spencer was talking about.

“Its this case, it’s obvious. Not only does she feel bad for the victims, she has the same (h/c) hair as all the victims, the same length of hair, she is the same age as well and finally, she’s in the law enforcement field as the rest of the victims.” Garcia had popped in from the computer screen.

“She doesn’t know that they are all in the government field but once she does, it won’t help her situation but we can’t keep it from her.” Emily said softly. After that, the conversation went quiet till the plane landed. You woke up quickly realizing you fell asleep on Reid.

“I-I’m sorry, Doctor.” You said quickly as you stood up, fixing yourself as your cheeks were a light red.

“It’s okay (Y/L/N)” He said blushing slightly at the fact you called him doctor.

You all headed to the police station in Stillwater, Oklahoma. It was a long day of interviewing, briefing, profiling, research, and a lot of coffee. This investigation was now on its third day and you decided you’d go get take out for your team. Reid offered to go with you but you politely declined and said the team needs him the most. On your way out to your car, you felt like someone was watching you, which to be honest with yourself, since you got here you’ve been feeling like that. You walked over to the vehicle you were using until you felt something slam on the side of your head making you drop your keys. Everything faded and went black.

When you woke up, you were dressed in a red dress. Your vision was blurry at first but then everything came into focus. It was two men, one a lot taller and bigger built and the other was smaller, shorter, and obviously timid.

“You got what you wanted Jacob, now do what you want.” The larger male said as he spun a knife between his fingers. The younger boy walked over to you and placed a different colored wig on your head. He then looked at the older and whispered something to him. The older walked over to you and placed the blade on your leg, ripping open the flesh causing you to scream out in pain for Jacob to take the blood from your leg and put it on your lip as a makeshift lipstick causing you to spit out and drool as tears fell from your eyes.

“Please...don’t do this...” You pleaded as the younger caressed your cheek.

“I’m not going to hurt you... I love you...your skin is so soft” Jacob said quietly as he kissed your cheek, causing you to flinch. “I have to go get the necklace. I’ll be back Jeremy ..” Jacob said, leaving you and Jeremy alone. He had lit a cigarette early and blew smoke toward your face, making you cough.

“I don’t know what he sees in you...your filthy just like my momma. Think you got some authority over all us don’t you? Wanna beat us around and you get away with it cause you’re a filthy cop.” He spat as he put his cigarette out on your hand that was tied down to the chair

“No! I swear...I don’t think I control you, I promise.” You screamed out. This process went on for what felt like years. By the time both of the males were finished, you had cuts all down your body, makeup smeared down your face, and you were missing two fingernails.

“Guys...where is (y/n)? She was supposed to be back five minutes ago.” Reid ask as he stood up and made his way out the conference room.

“I don’t know, I’ll call her.” Morgan said as he pulled out his phone. Reid walked outside and ran next to your vehicle, picking up your keys.

“She was taken.” Reid exclaimed as he was panting from running back inside. Luckily the team had a lead on who the unsubs were but not where they took their victims. They all got in their vehicle and headed to their main lead.

“You’re so beautiful...” Jacob started, “I love you so much.” He whispered as he caressed your face.

“I-...I love y...you too..” You strangled out, trying to feed into his delusion.

“You do? That means you get a reward.” Jacob said as he kissed your cheek that was now bruised from the slapping you received from Jeremy. Jacob pulled out a necklace made of fingernails and teeth. You swallowed back the slow acidic bile that made its way towards your mouth.

“Can-...may I sleep for now?” You ask quietly and receive a nod from Jacob. You lay your head back and rest your eyes, trying to ignore the pain throughout your body. You were soon awoke by the ripping of the dress off your body by Jeremy.

“W-what are you doing?!” You cried out as you shook in the chair.

“I wanna see that body again...and I need more room for this knife..” Jeremy explained as he placed the knife against your upper left breast and carved an ‘x’ over the area making you scream out in pain. Jacob walked over and pushed his brother.

“Her body is only for me to see!” He yelled as he threw his jacket over my body. The sub is evolving into the dominate male meaning Jeremy’s previous tactics worked. Everything calmed down and you fell back asleep until you were woken up by the sound of distant sirens. You smiled lightly as tears streamed down your face so you looked at the two males to see them asleep. The sirens progressively got louder, causing the men to wake up. Jeremy runs out back while Jacob unties you and holds you up with a knife held to your heart. You hear the rattle of the barn doors before they burst open.

“FBI! Put the knife down Jacob Whit!” Morgan yelled with his gun pointed at Jacob. I nod my head to the back and watch as Hotch and Prentiss run around back.

“No! She’s mine!” Jacob yells back, making you flinch. You look at Reid and you nearly collapse and you can see hatred in his eyes towards Jacob which a look you’ve never seen in Reid’s eyes before.

“Let us take care of her, Jacob. She can’t love her if she’s dead.” Morgan said as he took a step closer. You know Jacob’s plan, he knows he won’t escape this so he is trying to take you with him.

“No! I want to be with him!” You yell out to them, causing them to all be confused except for Spencer.

“You wanna be with me?” Jacob slightly relaxed, the knife lifting slightly.

“Of course, I love you.” You said looking at him and leaning into his grip. He relaxed completely and held the knife out towards the FBI agents. “But the only way we can be together is if we are both alive, baby. So you have to work with them okay. I can get them to let us go.” You whispered to him, internally cringing at the nickname you gave him.

“O-okay..” He let you go and pushed you forward, dropping his knife. “Now, I want her ba-” He was cut off by Morgan tackling him. You fell into Reid’s arm, crying as you clung onto him with your life.

“Medic! We need a medic here!” Reid yelled as he held you tight, ripping the necklace off your neck. “I’m so sorry...I should have gone with you.” He said pulling you closer to him.

“No...it’s not your fault.” You explained, looking up at him and caressing his face. The medics came and put you on the stretcher and started to take you away but you held onto Reid, tears streaming down your face. “Please...don’t leave.” You pleaded.

“I won’t. I promise.” Spencer said as he walked along side you and got into the ambulance with you. You woke up in a hospital bed and tried to get up quickly, causing Reid to shoot over to you and gently push you back down.

“Hey, hey...take it easy.” Reid said as he pulled his chair closer to your bed.

“How long was I sleeping?” You questioned as you slowly sat up, looking out the window to see its dark.

“One day and a half. Its 3:17 am.” Reid spoke softly as he gave you a bottle of water. You took it quickly and chugged almost all of it before Reid pushed the bottle down. “Slow down, you have all the time you need now. I’m here to protect you.”

“You’ll make sure I’m safe, Doctor?” You laughed lightly as you lightly sipped on your water.

Blushing slightly he nodded, “Always. So how are you feeling?”

“I was kidnapped and tortured by two psychos and was saved by my favorite doctor...I’m great, but oddly hungry.” You chuckled then winced and looked down at your body under the blanket. You got out of the bed even with all the protest from Reid so he decided just to help you out of the bed instead of trying to fight with you. You walked over to he mirror and tried lifting up the gown, not caring Reid was there and that all you would be in your black bra and underwear.

“Get it off.” You said quietly to Reid who was looking down at his feet.

“(y/n)... I don’t think that’s a good-” Spencer started to say before you cut him off.

“Now Reid!” Your voice raising slightly. He nodded and aided you in getting the gown off being careful of the wires and IV’s connected to you. You looked at all the scars littering your entire body, the long scars from the cuts, the circle marks from the burns and even your two missing nails. “I’m so...gross...” You mumbled, tears streaming down your face as you looked back at Spencer. He didn’t know how to react but all he could do is reach out and pull you into a hug.

“You’re not gross...In fact you’re quite the opposite. Not only are you genuinely beautiful to me, you are also very smart, caring, brave, and funny. These scars only show how brave you are.” Reid said as he brought you back over to the hospital bed, laying you down and sitting next to you. “I know my opinion might not mean much to you, but you are the most beautiful human being I’ve ever seen in my life.” He tells you.

“It means-....it means a lot to me, Spence.” You said as you looked up into the eyes of your hero as he wiped away your tears. “I have a question, Reid.” You started, getting a nod from him so you could ask. “Why did you look so mad when you found me?”

“Cause I let the most important person to me get too close to death.” Reid said without thinking, causing him to blush brightly.

“I’m important to you?” You ask as you sat up, looking at him, blushing slightly as well.

“Yes...very important (y/n).” Reid said looking at you, brushing your hair behind your ear. There was a comfortable silence between you too as you stared into each other’s eyes. Like magnets, you felt yourself being pulled to him, never realizing just how amazing Reid was. He was extremely attractive, you’ve always thought so, but it was more so now than ever. Neither of you realized how close you were to each other until you felt his soft breath fan across your lips. “And I can prove it to you,” Reid told you as he glanced down at your lips. You were slightly shocked when you felt him press his lips onto yours, causing you to smile and kiss him back softly.

“I think that’s all the evidence I need, doctor,” You chuckled, feeling all the negativity from before fade away. You pressed your lips to his again causing Reid to pull you closer and placing his hand on your cheek. “I wanna go home Reid...Can you take us to get take out, bring me home, cuddle with me and watch movies you cute insomniac?” You asked Reid, remembering it’s like 3 in the morning.

“Why of course my adorable soldier.” He smiled, blushing as he brought you your clothes for you to go change into. You changed while he went check you out the hospital so by the time you were dress, Spencer was ready to head out. Work might just be more bearable with this dork by your side.

A/n: Let me know how you liked this! I’m thinking of doing a part two, depending on how this goes. The part two would probably be on more of the recovery of the reader OR the reader and Spencer Reid sneaking around and fraternizing during work hours if ya know what I mean lmao

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #x reader #crime #angst

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evanbuckley-heartofgold · 4 years

Note

I totally get it no worries! What about Bobby getting hurt in the bomber episode? (Saw you sharing the gif set haha)

Sorry this took me so long, but I really wanted to get this right! I had so much fun writing this and I hope you enjoy it!

Bobby feels like he’s in a nightmare.

The second he realizes the bomb would be in the firehouse, he began to imagine all of the ways that this could end. He hadn’t thought of this one.

Buck is laying in the street battered and bloody with an entire ladder truck on top of his leg. Other firefighters were thrown from the truck and are laying on the pavement. Freddie stands in the middle of it all, bomb strapped to his chest. Bobby watches as Chimney steps forward as Freddie asks for the captain, his arms raised above his head.

He knows before Freddie says it that Chimney isn’t the captain he’s looking for. He has to do what he needs to do to protect his family.

“I love you,” Bobby whispers into Athena’s ear as he pushes past the police forming a barricade and into the intersection, ignoring their calls after him. This is his responsibility, now he has to pay up and keep Buck and the rest of his crew safe.

“Freddie,” Bobby calls, getting the boy’s attention.

He turns around and faces Bobby, a manic crazy in his eyes. “Thought you’d be on the truck.”

“I’m here now.” Bobby cast a glance down at Buck, he’s looking worse and worse by the second. “What’s next? Is this what you wanted?

“I wanted you dead.”

“I get that, but what about them.” Bobby forces himself to focus, it doesn’t matter what happens to him, he’s got to protect his firefighters. “What about him?” Bobby nods at Buck who looks up at him in pain. “He’s got parents, a sister, a girlfriend and he never did anything to you. He wasn’t even a firefighter when your father burned down that restaurant.”

“Collateral damage.” Freddie doesn’t even look at Buck.

“Is that how you see yourself?” Bobby takes a step forward. “An unintended victim in all this?” Another step.

“Stop!” Freddie tightens his grip on the trigger. Bobby freezes, eyes flashing to the bomb. “One more step, we all go boom.”

“Freddie, you got dealt a bad hand and I am sorry about that,” Bobby treads carefully now. The bomb is going to go off, he just needs to get it far enough away from Buck. “But what you did with it, that’s a choice. You stopped being a victim the moment you left that first bomb.”

“That lawyer she-”

“Did her job,” Bobby cuts in. “We were all doing our jobs.”

“Destroying my family,” Freddie spits. “My mom and I lost everything. She was in so much pain.”

“Wanna make it worse? You wanna make her watch you die?” Bobby sees Athena and another police officer leading Freddie’s mother into the intersection. Athena makes worried eye contact with him, but he shakes his head minutely and quickly mouths, I’m sorry.

“Mom...”

While Freddie is distracted, Bobby grabs him from behind, trying to wrestle the trigger out of his hand. “No!” Freddie struggles with him and Bobby can feel his finger inching closer and closer to the button.

He’s not getting out of this alive, not if it’s a choice between him and his firefighters. He holds on tight to Freddie as he uses all of his strength to propel them away from the truck. He swings a leg into Freddie’s knee, making him collapse onto the ground with Bobby still holding onto him. He hears Athena and Chimney and Buck and everyone shout as Freddie presses the trigger and the world goes black.

...

Chimney watches in horror as the bomb explodes, engulfing Freddie and Bobby. He watches his captain thrown a few feet into the air, landing on the ground with a sickening smack. Buck screams hoarsely.

Then he’s running. He sprints towards them, Eddie and Hen on his heels.

“Chim, you get Buck, Eddie and I’ll check on Bobby,” Hen tells him.

He nods quickly and veers right. Buck looks up as he comes closer and it looks a lot worse up close. Chimney shakes off that thought and kneels down next to Buck. His friend groans in pain. Blood covers the left side of Buck’s face, seeming to come from somewhere on his head, but tears carved their way through it and form a puddle on the ground.

“Bobby...” Buck breathes, clearly struggling through his pain to make words.

“Hen and Eddie are looking after him,” Chimney tells him. “I need you to focus, okay? How are you feeling?”

“Kinda numb,” Buck tells him. He can see that Buck isn’t looking at him, but instead past him to where Hen and Eddie are. He carefully positions himself so Buck can’t see them anymore.

Chim reaches down and feels his pulse. It’s fast and his breathing seems to be shallow. “Just hang in there, Buckaroo.” He spares a quick glance at Eddie and Hen and the other paramedics on the scene attending to Bobby and Freddie. “I need hands over here!” He shouts. Two paramedics and firefighters rush over. “Probable crush injury,” he tells them quickly. “We need to get this truck off of him. He presses on his radio, “This is Captain 118, I need all available hands to move this truck and clear a path to the nearest trauma center.”

No response.

They’re running out of time.

Bobby and Buck are dying in the street.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Hen running with a stretcher, Bobby on top of it. That gives him a little hope, Bobby’s not gone yet. He catches a flash of white and sees Eddie pulling a white sheet over Freddie’s body.

“Eddie!” He shouts. “I need help over here.”

He looks up and immediately runs over to Chim, eyes intense. “What can I do?”

“I need you to help lift the truck so I can pull him out.” Eddie nods and quickly grabs on to the truck.

Chimney crouches down beside Buck again. “Bobby?” Buck asks.

“He’s on his way to the hospital. I need you to hold still, try not to move.” He looks up at Eddie and nods.

“Lift on three!” Eddie shouts. “One, two, three!”

The firefighters and paramedics use all their strength to push the truck up. Buck screams in agony, tears streaming down his face. But they’re not strong enough the truck slams back down the few inches it had been lifted, making Buck cry out again.

“We need more people,” Eddie tells him hopelessly. “There’s no way we can lift this alone.”

Chimney nods, “Dispatch, this is Captain 118, we-”

Before he can finish, the bystanders push past the police barricades and run to them. Chimney has never been a praying man, but as everyone puts a hand on the truck and Eddie counts down, he prays that this will work and that this will free his friend.

This night has been hard enough for them all.

Edie tightens his grip on Buck’s arms. Buck cries, biting his lip, as the truck is slowly lifted off his foot. Every second Chimney has to wait pains him, but finally, there is enough space for Chimney to drag Buck out from the truck. The truck crashes to the ground and Eddie helps Chimney get Buck onto a stretcher and rushed into the ambulance.

The last thing Chimney sees before the doors slam shut is blood on the pavements reflecting the flashing lights.

…

Buck wakes up slowly. He feels floaty, almost like he’s not completely solid. Everything around him is warm and soft. He hears the murmur of voices, but can’t understand any words. Then he feels a soft kiss on his forehead and he sinks right back into sleep.

When Buck wakes up again he feels more grounded. He digs his fingers into the stiff sheets underneath him and exhales as he forces his eyes open. Blinking a few times to adjust to the brightness, Buck sees someone standing above him. She has tears in her eyes as she smiles down at him.

“Maddie?” He breathes out. “How long have I been out?”

“A few days.”

Buck looks down at himself and finds his left leg in a thick white cast. “The ladder truck?” Buck asks. She nods and a second later he’s holding his crying sister in his arms. His thoughts immediately go to Bobby. The bomb exploded and Bobby was right next to it. Maddie’s crying that must mean…

Maddie sits up and wipes her tears away with her thumb, “I’m sorry. You’re the one in the hospital bed, I shouldn’t be such a mess.”

Buck shakes his head and takes a deep breath, “Is Bobby…”

“No, oh my gosh I should have said that first. He’s stable.” Buck exhales a dramatic sigh of relief. “The doctors think he has a good chance of making a full recovery. He’s not awake yet, but they’re hopeful.”

“How?” Buck asks. “He-He was right next to the bomb.”

“Call it a miracle,” Maddie smiles.

“Can I see him?” Buck asks.

“I’ll go ask the doctor,” she pats his hand. “And I need to call Chim, they all got called into work so I’ll let them know that you’re okay.”

“Thank you,” Buck says as Maddie gets up. She smiles down at him and then kisses his forehead, just like she used to do when he was little.

Fifteen minutes later, Maddie comes back with a nurse and a wheelchair. The nurse helps Buck out of bed and then starts pushing him towards Bobby’s room.

Once he’s inside, Buck feels like he can’t breathe. Bobby is laying on the bed, thick gauze covering what Buck can see of his chest as well as some of his forehead. His arms are burned and red, but his chest is rising and falling evenly. That’s what Buck forces himself to focus on.

And in the chair beside the bed is Athena she looks up at him when the door opens and gives him a sad smile, “You’re a sight for sore eyes, Buckaroo.”

“Hi,” Buck says. “Um, can I sit with you?”

“Of course, honey,” Athena shifts her chair to give Buck room for the wheelchair to fit. “I think he’ll be glad to know you’re okay.” Buck leans his head on her shoulder and she takes his hand. “I hope you know that once you’re both out of the hospital, neither of you are leaving my sight until you’re better again,” Athena tells him.

Buck smiles, “You might have to fight Maddie on that one.”

“She’ll give in,” Athena says. Buck takes a deep breath as Athena rubs her thumb over his knuckles. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay.” He looks down at his leg, “It doesn’t hurt so much.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

Buck sits with Athena for as long as the doctors let him. Eventually, he has to go back to his own room and get looked over again.

Come the next morning, he’s back in Bobby’s room. This time Athena isn’t there, probably because she has to get her kids to school. Buck sits quietly at Bobby’s side, lost in his thoughts. He is pulled out of them by a groan. Bobby shifts on the mattress, his eyes still closed.

He makes a soft humming sound and then Bobby’s eyes slowly open and he looks right at Buck. “Evan?” Bobby’s voice is dry and scratchy. Buck nods, pretending not to notice Bobby calling him by his given name. “You’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Buck smiles. “I’m okay. Not as bad as you. I’m not trying to be mean, but you look like shit, Bobby.”

Bobby rolls his eyes, “Not even a minute after I wake up and you’re already ribbing me?”

Buck shrugs, “It’s what I do best.” Bobby laughs gently and the two fall into silence for a moment. But something is weighing on Buck’s mind. “Why did you stay? Why didn’t you run as soon as he pushed the trigger?”

Bobby smiles and reaches out to touch Buck’s hand, “I had to get him away from you. You didn’t deserve to get any more hurt because of my mistakes. If I hadn’t then you would have been in the blast radius. I did what I knew would keep you safe.”

Buck bites his lip, “You have Athena and May and Harry, you-you could have died trying to protect me, you almost did.”

“It would have been worth it,” Bobby squeezes Buck’s hand. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing that I failed another one of my kids. You’re really important to me, Buck. What kind of parent would I be if I stood by and watched you get hurt because of me?”

His kid. Buck can’t deny that it doesn’t make his heart soar to hear that. He’s never really been anyone’s kid, his parents didn’t love him and he never had anyone who loved him that way until he met Bobby. Buck can’t stop himself from leaning forward and embracing Bobby as much as he can, crying into his neck.

“Bobby… I...” Buck can’t get all the words he wants to say out, they’re stuck in his throat.

“I know, kid,” Bobby runs a hand over the back of his head. “We’re okay.” Bobby lets Buck stay like that for a few minutes before Buck sits up and quickly dries his tears with the back of his hand. Bobby smiles at him, “I feel like we’re going to be spending a lot of time together for the foreseeable future, so why don’t we just save the rest of the emotional talks for later, and right now just be happy that we’re both alive to tell the tale.”

Buck smiles through his tears, “Sounds good to me.”

#my fic #evan buckley #bobby nash #howard han #howie han #maddie buckley #henrietta wilson #eddie diaz #tw hospital #tw bombing #911 #911 fic #911 on fox

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mirkwoodshewolf · 5 years

Text

You’re not him; Jack Kline x reader

*Author’s note*

Okay so SPOILER ALERT!!!! IF YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED THE PREMIERE EPISODE OF SPN THEN STOP RIGHT HERE AND GO WATCH IT BEFORE READING THIS FIC!!! If you have seen the episode then you can stay, so if you don’t want to be spoiled PLEASE. LEAVE. NOW!!

So warning wise it’s the typical SPN warning; swearing, violence, zombies, ghosts, and there is a scene with kissing w/o consent (ALWAYS ASK BEFORE KISSING OR TOUCHING SOMEONE. CONSENT IS POWER!!) other than that, not really anything else. Hope you all enjoy this fic :)

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@ixchel-9275

@waddles03

________________________________________________________

Well we were screwed….no I don’t even think screwed is even the right word I would use right now. Here we are trapped like rats in a crypt with a bunch of possessed zombies trying to break down the door. As my brothers and Cas were trying to figure a way out of this place or how to stop those—things outside, I was on the ground touching Jack’s cheek.

Thanks to the bastard Chuck, Jack’s forever gone. His eyes burned out and I knew that there was no coming back from that. This was all too much for me. Jack didn’t deserve something like this, no one did. Not Pamela, not Kevin, and certainly not Jack.

“Jack—” I muttered as I leaned my forehead against his chest. Why must everything bad happen to those we care about? Just shortly before Lucifer stole Jack’s grace, the two of us admitted to each other while we were stuck in Apocalypse world with Mary that we started developing feelings for each other.

While he was fully human, I taught him the basic necessities on how to stay alive. And from there we just—kinda grew closer to each other. Even when he burned out his soul, he somehow made me still believe that he was in love with me.

Now he’s gone.

Suddenly I began to hear something. Something from within the walls. As my brothers kept arguing with each other, I pressed my ear to the wall.

“(Y/n)? (N/n).” Dean said.

“Guys I—I think there’s a pipeline in here.”

“Probably a sewage line.” Both Sam and Dean came up and Sam helped me stand back up while both he and Dean removed the concrete slab to reveal the brick structure underneath. Using the iron pick they chipped away at the brick wall but suddenly coming out was a possessed corpse.

I jumped back screaming. God I hate it when those things do that. Cas then picked up the concrete slab and slammed it right on top of the corpse which killed it but the ghost that had it possessed took off flying.

“God I hate it when that happens!”

“You’ve been doing this since you were ten, how does that still scare you?” asked Dean.

“Hey give me a wendigo, vamp, werewolf, leviathan, whatever any day. But having something that just pops out, especially when they look like they’re from the Thriller music video, forget it!”

“Well so much for your pipe theory, now what do we do?”

“Hello.” No. It—it can’t be. We all turned around and there stood Jack alive!

My heart stopped and I froze like a deer in headlight.

“Jack? You’re alive?” Sam asked in disbelief. It can’t be, it just can’t be. Please anyone but god tell me this is a joke.

“That’s not Jack. It’s a demon.” Cas said. At that point, I was enraged. Okay making my older brother into one, and forcing my big brother into being the vessel of the devil himself is one thing, but no I repeat no demon should ever, ever possess Jack’s body.

“What?”

“Yeah.” The demon said using Jack’s voice. “Sorry about that.” he shrugged nonchalantly.

“How in the hell—”

“Look I just got here and I needed a body so—”

“So you are a demon.” Sam asked to confirm this was a demon and not one of those spirits that came out of hell.

“Yeah. I would do the whole eyes thing but—no eyes.” He then walked over towards my bag and pulled out the sunglasses he and I once bought for him when he and I had some downtime together a few months back before we hung out with those teens we saved from the psycho serial killer clown.

“Put those down!” I snapped. Of course he ignored me and put the shades over his eyes and he said.

“Sorry but I gotta blend in.”

“Get out of him!” Cas sneered.

“Look I know it’s weird. Okay where do I start? Like the first day of school. Hi, uhh my name’s Belphegor I—” I snapped as I trudged up towards him, gripped him by the throat and pinned him against the wall holding my demon blade.

“Get. Out of him!”

“Ooo wow kitty’s got claws. I like that in a woman. I would wink but like I said—no eyes.”

“I’m not gonna ask you again you son of a bitch!”

“Look, hey I can get you out of here. I can help.”

“(Y/n).” Dean said to me trying to get me to get off this demon possessing my boyfriend’s corpse.

“No, I’m with (y/n) on this. He’s an abomination!” Cas said as he came up over my shoulder.

“You’re an abomination with that stupid, dumb trench coat.” I pressed the blade closer to the demon’s neck and I snarled at him.

“You don’t get to talk to him!”

“(Y/n) hey, hey okay back off! Back up!” Dean said as he came up and forced me off the demon.

“He’s defiling his corpse Dean! And you’re acting like you don’t even give a shit! What if this were Mary, huh?!”

“Hey listen to me She-wolf. Jack’s gone! Okay I know you don’t want to admit it yet but your boyfriend’s gone! Now I say we just listen to what he has to say, and if we don’t like it. Then you and Cas can stab him.”

“(Y/n),” Sam’s voice spoke up softly. I turned towards him and he agreed with Dean. “He’s right. We need to get out of here.” I forced myself out of Dean’s grip and walked away and faced the wall.

“Whew, feisty. She available?”

“Hey focus back to right here!” Dean snapped.

“Right. Look I’m not a crossroads demon or one of those black eyed ones that ooze slime to take out virgins or puppies or—virgin puppies. I like my job, I check in a soul, torment it. Repeat. Simple basic eternity to eternity job. You want all those bad guys back where they came from right? Me too. I mean—we’re like twinses guys.”

“We are not twinses!” Cas snarled.

“Can you fix this?” asked Sam gesturing towards outside.

“Umm no. but I can get you out of here.”

“How?” asked Dean.

“A little spell. You know nothing major.” God he was such a pain in the ass with his cycling of nonchalant teasing. “See a little graveyard dirt, and some uhh angel blood.”

“Cas.” I turned and watched as Cas reluctantly cut his palm with his angel blade and allowed some blood to flow into the demon’s hand.

“Oh wait, one more thing; I also need a lock of hair from a beautiful girl.” Oh hell no!

“You’re making that part up.” Cas stated.

“Actually I’m not. I need the hair otherwise it won’t work.” I walked up to him and Cas said.

“(Y/n) wait, you don’t have to do it. You know he’s lying.”

“Cas I don’t like it as much as you do but—what if he is telling the truth?” he and I looked at each other before I walked right up to the demon possessing my boyfriend’s body. He gave me Jack’s famed grin that once made me flutter and go weak at the knees.

“Well beautiful?” I took out my pocketknife and picked up a strand of my long hair. Then I cut a strand from underneath so that way no one would notice an uneven strand of hair.

I held the hair in my hands and hesitantly held it over Jack’s hand before finally placing it on top of the dirt and Cas’ blood. Just before I could remove my hand from his palm, his hand closed over mine and he hummed.

“Mm, so soft. Fierce and calloused but very soft at the same time. Been awhile since I held a girl’s hand.” I quickly took back my hand and held it over my chest and turned away getting creeped out. Cas protectively wrapped his arm around me as the demon then just held his arms out like he was about to do a chant.

But all he did next was clap his hands, the soil, blood and my hair fell to the ground. At first I thought it did nothing, that was until I heard nothing but silence outside.

“Huh.” He bragged. I was the first to race outside and all there were around were dead corpses no longer possessed.

“Holy shit.” I muttered.

“Didn’t I tell you? It worked. High five.” Belphegor said.

“The spirits have been destroyed.” Cas said as he walked ahead.

“No, I just blasted them out of those bodies. Yeah.”

“So where the hell are they now?” asked Dean.

We were now in the car driving on home hoping to figure out a plan. Thankfully Cas sat between me and the demon possessing Jack because all the while through the drive, I could feel his—well metaphorically speaking his eyes were on me.

“You know—you’ve got some good style taste there doll. I like ‘em.”

“Don’t call me doll.” I lowly muttered.

“Alright Romeo enough with the flirting back there. That’s our sister and I wouldn’t press her if I were you. You think we’re bad, she’s worse than us.” Dean spoke.

“Empty threats. Not to say that you’re not strong there doll. I mean—every female demons has envied you for the way you’ve been known to torture us. In fact some learn from you.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere with me.”

“On that note explain to me this, how many souls are we talking about specifically?” asked Sam trying to drive the conversation away.

“What you mean in hell?” asked Belphegor as Sam nodded.

“Oh I don’t know 2-3 billion.” Great.

“Okay for now we just stick to the plan. We head back to the bunker. Figure a way to close the riff.” Dean said as he kept driving.

“If you can.” Said Belphegor.

“You got any better ideas?”

“I do not. But if you wanna buy some time, you could just—contain the ghosts.”

“How?” I asked.

“Magic.” He stated with a shrug.

“And you just happen to know the right spell?” asked Cas skeptically.

“Lucky you.”

“What do you mean by contain them?” questioned Dean.

“Magical circle about a mile wide. No ghosts get in, no ghost get out.”

“Yeah, great, great.”

“But Sam we can’t. Harland, Kansas is less than a mile from the cemetery. What are we gonna do about the people there?”

“We get them out.” Dean stated.

“How?” asked Cas.

“We lie.”

As we drove on we soon found an abandoned car still running up ahead with its lights on.

“Whoa, whoa pull over for a second Dean.” Dean did as Sam suggested and we parked right behind the abandoned car. My brothers and I got out of Baby and we shined out flashlights on the car.

The first thing I noticed was the blood along the window, the radio was still playing but there was no body so this wasn’t your typical murder. Yet for some reason this scene was very familiar to me.

“This look so familiar to you guys?” asked Dean.

“Looks like a—woman in white.” Said Sam.

“Exactly.” I remembered back on the first case after we got Sam out of Stanford of the woman in white.

“Guys….I think this is our woman in white.”

“No way we sent her to hell years ago.” Dean said.

“No think about it. God opens up the doorway to hell, every soul to ever go down there escapes. Including our woman in white.” I explained.

“But then that means if she’s back—” Sam stated off before Dean finished his brother’s thought.

“Then every last one we ever killed and sent down there is back.” Well that’s just great.

By morning, donning on our fake FBI uniforms, we headed for Harland and began to evacuate the city.

“Alright look (y/n). Sam and I got the evacuation part down, so why don’t you and Cas take Crowley Jr. and get him the things he needs.”

“Are you serious Dean?” I snapped. “Dean you—you really don’t care how this is making me feel do you? I—I can’t even look at him. I just—I just can’t…..” I took off down the street and he called out to me.

I sat down on a nearby bench and pressed my face into hands trying to contain my sobs but I could feel tears in my eyes.

“(Y/n).” I looked up to see Cas standing over me. He sat down beside me and I said to him.

“If you’re—trying to make me go back there and make amends with Dean then uhh—” I looked around and found an abandoned half eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “I’m about to hit you in the head with a PB&J sandwich.”

“No, no I—I get why you walked away from him. I—can’t even look at….you know. So I can’t imagine how it must be for you. After all you and Jack….”

“It may have seemed difficult to decipher our relationship especially when his soul completely burned out. But—somehow even in that soulless way, he still made me believe he was in love with me. I have no idea how but—he did. I just….feel like this is all my fault.”

“It wasn’t. The only person to blame for Jack’s death is God. All this time following his orders and commands, and this is how I’m repaid.”

“To be fair we did kinda make you turn against your traditionalist ways. I mean remember how you were back then.”

“Yeah I guess I did have a stick up my butt.”

“Not even a stick is big enough Cas to describe how stuck-up you were.” I teased which caused the two of us for the first time to actually laugh. It was small but still a laugh. “I just wish he was still here. Like here here, not some demon possessing him using his voice and doing those little quirks he did.”

“I know. So do I.” he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and hugged me close to him. “So do I. I promised his mom I would take care of him, now I feel like I let her down. Again.”

Eventually I went with Cas and Sam to do some evacuations. I went to one house just three blocks from where Cas went. Holding my shotgun close and ready to fire in case any ghosts came up, I called out.

“Hello? Anybody here?” I cautiously walked along the hallways leading towards the upstairs bedrooms. But when I opened the door, I held in my puke for right there before me were two teenage girls around my age covered in blood, however most of the blood came from their eyes and I knew only one legend that ever made that happen.

Bloody Mary.

I quickly raced to find a nearby mirror. It worked on her once before and it should work on her again. But just as I went to grab the mirror that hung in the hallway, she suddenly appeared before me in my reflection then turned into me.

Blood started tearing down my face as I couldn’t look away now. She had me.

“Been a long time Winchester sister. And in all that time you’ve become a killer, just like your brothers. All those people you’ve helped kill, Kevin, Charlie, Bobby, but worst of all precious Jack. It’s your fault all this happened to him. If he hadn’t liked you, he’d still have his grace.”

“Shut up……shut up!” I soon felt this agonizing pain as I collapsed into the table and she soon came out of the mirror repeating over and over that it was my fault, my fault, my fault.

“Hey.” Oh shit it—it couldn’t be him. I looked up and through the blood that had dripped down from my eyes, I could see Jack’s body standing before us. Bloody Mary turned into Jack and said.

“You’re a true monster. Killing Sam and Dean Winchester’s mother. Releasing the archangel Michael, it’s all your fault.”

“Yeah sorry there Mary but,” he lifted his shades revealing the burnt out holes in them. “Plus I’m not this guy uhh—Jack. So you might as well hit the road bitch cause honestly out of all the legends you were the worst, and as a demon I don’t mean in the good way.” Mary phased back into herself and launched at the demon but he held up a mirror before her.

And just like last time, her reflection spoke back to her which killed her right then and there. The mirror shattered and the demon shook the glass off of him.

“That bitch is gonna have it in for me when I get back. Lucky for her, I’ve got something up my sleeve for her for leaving hell in the first place.” Slowly I got up and wiped the blood out of my eyes. “Red looks good on you.” I growled and steadied myself up along the wall. “What? No thank you for saving your ass?”

“Not from you. Had it been Cas or Sam I would thank them. But not to creeps like you.”

“Aww c’mon babe after all the fun we had last night?”

“That was for the spell only and you know it! Now did you find your ingredients for the spell? Does Dean even know you left him?”

“Technically no. See for whatever reason I found myself here and I could hear you screaming….well bloody Mary up here so I figured might as well save one Winchester, maybe their cute sister and maybe get on a better side with you and the others.”

“Saving my life doesn’t atone for what you are.” I said as I cleaned my face up in the bathroom.

“Why so stuck on me? It’s not like I had a choice. This body was the nearest one I could find. I would’ve found another back at the cemetery but those meat suits were well you know. Wormy. Difficult to blend. I sorta got an answer from your brother but I wanna hear your side now. Who was he to you?”

I turned the tap off and stared at him through the mirror. I dabbed my eyes with a towel and muttered.

“He was a friend.”

“Ahh there it is.”

“What’s there?” I demanded.

“See down there,” he pointed downward gesturing to hell. “You may be praised for your fighting skills and some torture methods. But you are laughed at for your lying skills. I mean I know there’s some truth to it, but I know there’s gotta be more.”

He then slowly walked closer towards me as he continued.

“So c’mon just between us. Was he—Your confidant? Your secret keeper?” he now stood almost chest to chest with me as he now had me up against the vanity counter. “Your boyfriend?” at that my breath hitched sharply. “Ahhh, ding-ding. Seems I’ve found a winner?”

“So what if he was? Just because you have his body and use his voice to talk, doesn’t mean that you’re him. So stop with the flirtation and just—” suddenly I felt his lips on mine.

I almost lashed out but I was suddenly hit back to the time Jack and I shared our first kiss in Apocalypse world. Jack had just performed another puppet show for the kids, we told them an epic tale of a young warrior searching across the galaxy to eventually become a great warrior (Star Wars).

After getting all the little ones to bed, Jack and I just stayed up and talked and that’s when I leaned in and kissed him. At first I regretted it because he just sat there in shock, but when he kissed me back I threw my regret out the window and just accepted the kiss. And ever since then, we’ve been a couple.

I felt Jack’s hands cup underneath my chin just as he always placed them whenever we kissed. I tried to resist but I guess this is what I needed for long. Ever since his soul got burned out, his kisses didn’t hold the same feeling of love as they had compared to our first kiss.

Wait—what the fuck are you doing (y/n)?! You’re kissing a demon! A bloody demon! I whined and pushed him away from me and I slapped him in the face.

“Never. Kiss me. Again!” I snarled.

“Oh yeah like I haven’t heard that before.” He teased.

“I’m serious. Whatever you think is happening between us, forget it! Now get your stuff for the spell and get out of my sight!”

“As you wish. My sapphire star.” My heart stopped as he actually used the nickname Jack gave me. I turned back around and saw that he was gone.

“(Y/n)! (Y/n)!” soon running up the stairs was Cas. “I heard you screaming as I got closer to the house, are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I’m fine.” He cupped my face before saying.

“Your eyes are bleeding.”

“Oh right I—I had a little reunion with bloody Mary. But I handled it.” It was best not to tell Cas about the demon coming to save me, since I really had no real father figure in my life Cas has kinda filled in that role after getting him to loosen up a bit and hanging around us humans for a while.

“Does anything else hurt?”

“Well I’ve got a splitting headache.”

“Here.” He placed his two fingers to the center of my forehead and I felt this warmth come over me.

“Thanks Cas.”

“No problem. Come on Sam might need us.” I nodded and the two of us headed outside.

After reuniting with my brother and saving a mother and daughter from the killer clown as well as some other ghosts that popped out. We saw this bright light suddenly rushing across the ground like the tide coming out.

“The spell.” I said. The ghosts all glared at us and took chase.

“Run! Run get them out of here!” Sam urged us. I picked up the kid and took off running down the street. Once we got to across a certain path of the road, the ghosts stopped and psycho clown couldn’t reach us with his knife. He growled before yelling at us before my brother finally told him to shut up.

“It’s done. They can’t get out now.” I said.

“C’mon we gotta get to the high school.” Sam said as we now walked calmly out of the neighborhood to meet up with Dean and Balthagar.

After getting the mom and daughter to the high school five miles away, I was leaning against the wall of the high school when I felt two familiar hands cover my eyes.

“Guess who?”

“Enough.” I elbowed him in the chest.

“Ow! Hey I thought we had something back in the bathroom?”

“I already told you, you may wear Jack’s body but you aren’t him. You even touch me again, and I’ll let you see firsthand why demons down there probably talk about me.”

“Ohhh, kinky. I look forward to it.” He flirted. I glared at him and walked away from him. I came up to my brothers who were looking inside Baby’s trunk.

“Did he just cover your eyes playing the guess who game you and Jack used to do?” asked Dean.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I told him bluntly. He looked towards Belphegor and he said.

“Listen, if he tries to flirt with you in anyway talk to us, okay. I—I had a talking to with Cas and he set me right. I should’ve been more understanding of what all this has meant to you (n/n) I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. All of this really has gone to shit. I mean not just the souls of hell being free but God literally screwing us over. I mean—guys pardon my French but…..we are in some serious horse shit.”

“She’s right. I mean yeah we can keep up the lie for what 1 maybe 2 days before the real FBI shows.” Sam agreed with me. We already had two encounters with law enforcement we don’t need a third strike.

“Yeah I figured. But right now we need to get you fixed up.” Dean said gesturing to Sam’s shoulder. Of course stubborn as an ox Sam Winchester refused but with Dean’s persuasion he managed to talk Sam into showing him the bullet wound he telepathically got after shooting God.

It wound itself looked like it was about to close up but when Dean said there was no exit wound, I got a little worried.

“Hey you remember when you were little, and how I used to always distract you? You know when it involved a band-aid or something like that?” Dean asked as he got the rubbing alcohol out and poured it onto a cotton patch.

“Yeah you—used to tell some stupid joke. You even did it for the munchkin there.”

“Don’t go there green giant.” I mocked.

“Knock, knock.” Sam at first turned away like it was a joke. “Come on knock, knock.”

“Who’s—” before he could say there, Dean placed the patch on his bullet wound.

“Still got it.” Dean praised himself with a grin. I shook my head and I said nervously.

“Hey guys,” they turned towards me and I continued, “So—when Chuck said welcome to the end…..do you think he meant this? I mean by like—ending the entire human race with ghosts, demons, and all that?”

“Baby girl you know as well as I do he’s been playing us the entire time. So screw him.” Dean said.

“I know but….think about it. If one of us dies, that’s it. We’ve been lucky in the past but now that he’s pissed at us. He’s gonna ensure that no one or nothing brings us back. No resurrections this time. I may not look it but—I’m terrified guys.” Sam being the caring brother that he is, wrapped his arms around me in a big bear hug and I continued. “We’re nothing but rats to him. And now that he’s had his fun, he’s gonna ensure that we end up in the pathway with furious cats ready to devour us. While he just sits back and watches us being ripped apart.”

“Yeah nothing but rats in a maze. Sure we could go left, sure we could go right. But we were stuck in the damn maze. It makes you think—what did all of it mean?” Dean said agreeing with me.

“It meant a lot.” Sam answered. “We still saved people, saved you kiddo.” Sam said looking down at me.

“But what for?” I asked. He stroked down my hair. “He just throws us one end of the world after another and sits back just to make us do all the hard work.”

“Yeah. That’s what he does. He gets bored and-and-and-and pulls the rip-chord. That’s what he did with Apocalypse world, and probably….. with all of them. He moves on and starts another story. And you know what—good. Because if he bailed it’s just us. For the first time; it’s just us.”

“You forgot the 3 billion ghosts there Sammy.” I said.

“Yeah well what’s one more apocalypse right?” I softly laughed and shook my head. Sam patted my back comfortingly as he separated from me. “But seriously. If we win—when we win this. God’s gone. There’s no one to screw with us, there’s no more maze, it’s just us. Then we’re free.”

“So you, me and (n/n) versus every soul in hell……I like those odds.”

“Yeah. Me too.” The boys looked at me and Dean asked me.

“(N/n)?” I looked at them. I sighed deeply before saying.

“Well….I guess you know what this means, right boys?” they softly grinned at me and we turned towards Baby’s trunk as Sam said.

“We’ve got work to do.” Before closing it up.

498 notes · View notes

ilguna · 4 years

Text

Ethereal - Chapter Six (f.o)

Summary: Five years of watching your trainees die, you’re sick of it. She will prevail, she will win.

Word Count; 2.7k

Warnings; swearing, DEATH MENTION

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

You slap Finnick’s knee suddenly as you stand up. Your eyes grow wide, mouth falling open as you watch the scene unfold. Finnick jolts awake, “What? What’s the matter?”

“Look!” you motion to the tv.

On the tv is a scene of your beloved tributes. Both of them asleep underneath a tree, Paslee is propped up against the tree because he’s supposed to be taking watch after he just switched off with Annie. You weren’t bothered that he fell asleep, because it’s been a smooth couple of days.

It’s day four inside of the arena for them, day two for you. Time moves differently inside of the arena, you’ve always known this.

Him and Annie have been very good inside of there. Dotting their i’s, crossing their t’s. They’ve come across only one other person inside of the arena and that was earlier today. It was the teenage girl from twelve, which Paslee had wiped out almost immediately. They came face to face with her, and she was obviously so hungry to stay alive.

But Paslee acted quickly when he saw her eyes dart to his knife, and he finished her off quickly. Him and Annie had backed away from the body like it held some sort of plague, and found shelter a mile or two away from where it had happened.

This year, the arena is much bigger, and it’s much more beautiful. It’s centered towards agriculture, there’s plenty of apple trees littered around, some ruins of a house near the dam that sits just along the forcefield. There’s paths that were there before the games, people had walked those paths every single day.

You can take a guess that this place has been preserved to keep it in such a pristine state. Everything inside of there is so green and perfect looking. It’s rained only once inside, and that’s when you watched Annie grin and dance around in it for a little bit.

It’s old though, from before the rebellion. You can tell each time one of the tributes will come across the dam. How they examine the cracks, but you wonder if they realize that the spider web that it’s formed in, is no good luck. If they’re smart, they would choose the other side of the arena to stay in.

Anyway, Paslee is currently asleep against the tree, and Annie is nearby, maybe a few inches away from him. They’ve got all their things on the left side of Paslee, his arm is around it, and the knife is just barely still in his hand.

“Oh my god.” Finnick gasps, sitting up on the couch.

The careers stand over your tributes. Not directly, but a foot or two away. They stare, and laugh, and conspire. You listen to their amplified whispers–thanks to the gamemakers–about how they’re going to execute this.

“Fuck.”

The boy from one then leans over a stick and some torn up shirt wrapped around it. The girl from the same district strikes a spark a couple of times with a firestarter that was probably hidden somewhere in those boxes at the cornucopia.

The flame starts, and the boy holds it up.

There’s a sickening grin on his face, and he holds the flame near Annie’s hair, with a whisper of, “See the resemblance?”

“They’re psychopaths.”

Annie moans slightly at the light, throwing an arm over her face, as she turns away from them. The careers freeze where they are, and you watch as Annie’s eyes open, and how she is very much wide awake.

“So do we set them on fire or what?” the girl from one asks, “Or their things?”

“We wait here, see if they wake.” The boy answers, “Heat up the blade and then brand them awake.”

They all agree on that, and you watch as they sit down near her.

One look to the clock on the side of the screen, you can see it’s three in the morning for them, but for you it’s only one.

“We need to get to the betting area.” you tell Finnick, grabbing your jacket and pulling it onto yourself, “The sponsors will be waiting.”

You and Finnick grab your things that you’ll need for when you get down there. And just before you leave the apartment, you take one more look to the tv to see a tear well up and then dribble down her cheek.

You can’t stop jamming the button when you get in the elevator. Tapping your foot impatiently as Finnick paces the little area. When the doors open, you’re met with your competition.

“Oh!” Cashmere smiles, “We’re heading to the same–”

“Get out!” you yell at her, shoving her back as you press the button that keeps the doors shut. After that, it’s a much faster ride.

When you finally hit the base floor, you take off out the door. Finnick is hot on your heels, never passing you up. Your feet slap against the cement flooring painfully hard as you continue to try to run faster. Pushing the little energy you have in your body, out.

You slide around the corner, grabbing Finnick before he falls, and then you make the last part of the trek to the room. Finnick reaches the door first this time, and he presses himself against the wall when he opens it.

You guys make it just in time to see that Paslee and Annie are now very much awake, there’s an orange blade millimeters from Paslee’s face.

And then, he grabs his little dagger, and presses it blade to blade, getting it out of his face as Annie rises to her feet. She just barely gets her own sword into her fingers and swings.

The girl from one was reaching out to grab the boy to move him out of the way. Now, there’s three fingers missing from her hand. She lets out a scream, which has to have woken anyone that must be near them.

Finnick stands behind you now, and you watch as they battle it out.

The girl from one is tough, and even though she’s bleeding profusely, she swings the sword, and when it’s proving useless, she tries to use her right hand–which seems to not be the dominant one–to throw knives.

Annie just barely dodges out of the way.

At some point, the girl from two throws the torch, Annie’s and Paslee’s backpack catches fire, and snakes up the bark of the tree. The flames rise, the swings become tighter, and they’re catching each other’s swords.

And then Paslee makes the final swing at the boy from one, catching his throat in it.

His district mate’s eyes widen, her mouth falling open in surprise. The district two’s fall short, and they go to catch him.

Annie uses a fire blanket to put out the fire on the backpack, but it’s charred and you wouldn’t be surprised if there are a few ashes waiting to burn what’s left of their things.

Then, they take off in the woods. The girl from district two begins to follow but she started too late. Annie and Paslee are quick, and they manage to dodge as many branches as possible. But they can’t avoid the thorns, or the tiny leaves and branches that snap at their skins and leave marks.

Annie is the quickest, weaving in and out of places, Paslee follows behind her without question. She doesn’t slow down until she reaches the stream of the dam, which is almost more than a mile away from where they had started.

This is when they begin to gasp for air, Annie is dousing the backpack in water, trying to breathe. Paslee tries his best, but moving for him eventually becomes a pain, and you watch as the water runs red. He’s got a cut on his body somewhere, and it’s deep enough to keep a steady flow of blood.

It cuts back to the boy from district one, just in time for you guys to watch as he sputters, blood spewing out like a fountain. The boy from district two has to wipe his eyes free of what had just landed on him. The girl is sobbing over his body, begging him to stay with her.

And then the cannon goes off.

Thirteen left in the arena.

“No!” Cashmere yells, you turn to look over your shoulder, watching her fall to her knees, “No!”

“They’re alive.” you can feel the adrenaline leaving your body, turning to Finnick, “get a sponsor, see if they’ll send that healing cream, Paslee’s hurt.”

He nods, kissing you briefly before heading off to where he needs to be.

Annie catches a hold of herself and she spreads the things out of the bag briefly, dousing the bag for the final time, and then she whispers the things that aren’t damaged, back to herself. She counts the things, throws the bad stuff into a bush, and then splashes water on her face.

She gets water ready to drink, since their bottles are left at the camp that is now up in flames, and the home of one dead body.

The hovercraft comes, taking him away.

“You killed him, Paslee.” Annie tells him, brushes his hair out of his face as she puts some water on his forehead too, even though he’s basically laying in the middle of the stream.

“The boy from one?”

“You didn’t hear the cannon?” she asks, he shakes his head.

“My heart is pounding in my ears.” he tells her, “I couldn’t hear a thing.”

Annie takes a sip of the water when she’s sure it’s safe, and then she passes it on to Paslee, “You’re bleeding.”

“He nicked my arm with the blade.” Paslee sits up to drink the water, and basically drinks the rest. When he goes to say sorry, Annie waves it off.

She moves around to check his arm, “You’re lucky that it wasn’t the burning part, then your skin would be scarred and bubbling.”

Finnick comes back, “It’s being sent. Did I miss anything?”

“They’re recovering from the run. They see the injury.” you tell Finnick, “The boy is dead.”

“Good.” he says it loud enough for Cashmere and Gloss to hear.

You take his hand, taking in a deep breath, before relaxing your body. You lean your head against his shoulder, watching as the camera suddenly goes back to your tributes after it was panning around the arena. Then, the music from the sponsor gift starts.

Annie perks up, and Paslee’s eyes begin to search the area around them, “There!”

Annie gets up, reaching up for it, and cradling it when she finally gets it in her arms. She pops it open, and uses the moonlight to read the little message. All it says it to use it generously.

“Thank you.” Annie says, the camera goes to the direction she’s facing, and then she goes over towards Paslee.

They apply it to his cut, Paslee groans in pain, but settles and sighs when it starts working. Then, they put it on all the little cuts they acquired while running through the forest.

You remember the healing cream that you used when you were inside. After you had been attacked by the bear when you were retreating. Finnick had put so much in, begging for it to work quickly because he couldn’t stand to see you in pain.

It left a pink scar for a while, that eventually faded to match your skin tone. However, it was all washed away when you had that full-body polish when you had won the games. Or so you thought.

They wanted to get rid of the scar, but Mags gave them a flat out no, and you hadn’t even realized that it was still there until a couple months later. When Reed had accidentally come in while your back was facing him, and he pointed out the scar. You spent the rest of that day just staring at it in the mirror. Giving yourself a terrible pain in the neck from the struggle.

You wonder what Finnick thought of it the morning after, or the night during you two had gotten together. If he was surprised that the four claw marks are still very much there, if it was your decision, if you were ever bothered by it. They’re a line of bumps on your back.

They don’t hurt, they’re just… there.

Annie and Paslee pack up their things after that. Annie mumbles something about getting away from the dam, and then after that she helps Paslee to his feet. Then, they begin downstream, heading to a new place to stay for the night.

At least they’re alive.

–

Five days later for you guys, twelve for the tributes, you’re down another six tributes. Both Paslee and Annie are going to strong, and you’re unfortunately proud to say that at least two of the kills belong to Annie. You don’t know the exact number, because you’re not around all hours of the day to watch anymore, but she’s doing well.

Two days later from when the careers attacked them, the boy from five was killed, thanks to the tributes. The girl from one was feeling… angry and she decided to go hunting by herself. Stumbled upon him and mutilated his body, left the bloody mess there and returned to the cornucopia.

Three more days after that, Annie had found the girl from six that was camping nearby to the dam, and took her out. Paslee was out hunting during that time, and he made sure to go back to their camp and wait for her to make sure that she was alive. She came back with a few scratches, used a little bit of the healing ointment cream to start the healing process a little faster, but not finish it off completely.

Later on that day, the cameras had flipped to the boy from eleven, and all of you had the displeasure of watching him choke to death on a berry that he was allergic to. The mentors wanted to send him epinephrine, but they didn’t have the sponsors, or the money to do it themselves. They watched their last tribute die.

Four days later, Annie would get her second kill of the boy from seven. She was caught in the crossfire of the boy from eight and seven. So, she stood back and watched as the boy from seven threw his hatchet, lodging it in eight’s chest, and then she swooped in and finished it off.

Lucky for your tributes, there were things left over on both of them. The eight tributes were teaming up, and so while they were seperated the boy took half of the supplies. Annie decided to just take the entire backpack and she met Paslee back at camp, where they relocated again. Nearby to the dam stream, but not anywhere near close to the dam itself.

They also keep moving because they are so immensely paranoid of what might happen if the careers come around them again. They hope that you’ll be able to send the healing cream again, but they know they can’t count on that. In the meantime, they pick berries, hunt rabbits and squirrels, sing songs and wait it out.

They mainly want them all to kill each other, narrow down the numbers and then go after whoever might be left. Then, when it comes to it, they’ll fight each other. Winner gets glory.

Today, you and Finnick head off to Laurel and Pleurisy to discuss the winners outfits. There’s only nine people left, two are yours which leaves seven.

Actually, you forgot to mention one of the deaths that happened this morning. The girl from nine had fallen from a tree and broke her neck when she hit the ground. So there’s six left to defeat.

“Paslee or Annie?” You ask.

“Annie, she has a better chance of winning.” He tells you, “She’s got more survival skills, it looks like.”

“They’ve both killed two people each,” you say.

“And yet, Annie is the only one that’s taking charge.” Finnick’s eyes slowly turn to you, “Reminds me of someone I know.”

You scowl, “I was not like that.”

“You were bossy as all hell, (Y/n)! If you weren’t bedridden then you would have been all over it.” He grins and you roll your eyes.

“I wonder how you would have survived if I weren’t there.” you take Finnick’s hand, swinging it.

“Just fine, I hope.”

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair ethereal #ethereal

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always5hineee · 4 years

Text

Hell and Back- Chapter 26: Dr. Who (Trials 40-41)

Word count: 1520

Chapter warnings: Mild language and themes

-----

How was he meant to handle this? There wasn't a lot he could do, but he knew the outcome. Was the game going to purposely kill Y/N? It was limiting his power, so even if he wanted to break the rules, he wouldn't be able to. Once he unfroze time... It would stay that way for better or worse, until the trial was over.

Could he make it so that the train was safe? He may be able to dismantle the cow pusher if he really tried, but tying up all the hydraulic cables? That would be a nightmare. He didn't even know how to disconnect the cars if he wanted to, and their forward momentum would push them into her anyway. He didn't know if he could even reverse any further with his power limited by the game. Not only that, but his mental state was affecting his physical one. He didn't know how strong he could actually be.

Walking over to the train, he looked to the cow pusher. Giving it a kick, he tried to see if it would come off, but it was clearly bolted into the vehicle. Maybe there would be wrenches on the train. Walking around to the conductor booth, he tried to heave himself up to the door. Hands slipping as his grip weakened, he fell back into the rocks. Grunting in pain, he shook as he tried to pull himself up. He couldn't afford to pass out yet, he'd end up releasing time. He just had to find the tools.

Pulling up on the bar a second time, he nearly made it, but his foot slipped, sending him sprawling to the dirt a second time bashing his head on the ground. His vision began to swim as he laid back, body giving out against his will. He tried to mutter to himself, force himself to get up, but he couldn't do anything about it. Finally, against his own volition, he fell into unwilling sleep.

"Tao..." He heard the muffled voices in the back of his head, as if he were underwater. His breathing was labored and he felt hot, sweating in his own skin. Was this death? Was he dying? He could see their faces in front of him, bubbling and twisting like a portal. Their colors were shifting from too saturated to too monochrome, disorienting hi as they shouted.

"Tao!" Jumping out of whatever strange realm he had found himself in, he blinked in confusion, looking around at them. Staring up, he saw all of their faces. Sehun, Kai, Kyungsoo, Kris, Chanyeol, Lay, Chen, Baekhyun, Suho, and Xiumin.

"W-where's Luhan?" He asked, practically shaking. In that strange place he had been hot, but now he was desperately terribly cold.

"Tao, Luhan left..." Suho put a hand on his shoulder.

"O-oh, right..."

"Are you okay, man?" Sehun asked, obvious concern on his face.

"Y-yeah, I'm good, he said, shuddering involuntarily.

"Well in that case, what the fuck is this?" Kris asked in an accusing tone, shoving something in his face.

"Kris, come on, give him a-" Suho started, but was rudely cut off.

"No, we deserve an explanation." Trying to focus his eyes, Tao saw that it was a phone screen.

"Huh?"

"Don't play stupid. What the fuck is this? We're on trial forty one. Y/N's train stunt was supposed to be trial thirty one. And this trial is for you." Grabbing onto the phone, slightly nauseous, he tried to read it. Finally, his eyes caught on the letters, brightness somewhat disorienting.

Final Time Trial - Player Tao

Trial 41: Tell the truth.

Limited power: Tao

Drop-out Fee: Not Applicable. Drop-out is not permitted.

He looked up between each of them, searching for some form of sympathy. The best he received was the worry in Y/N's eyes. Other than that, though, everyone was accusatory, hurt, or both. No one knew what was going on. He stuttered as he tried to explain, Y/N dying, the resets, all of it. He was rambling about watching her death, having to tell the others how to save her, the amount of times he had to reverse and pause and reverse again. He sounded crazy. Kris was mostly just upset that his car was a mile down the road. Suho was the first to crack, offering him sympathy, hand still on his back.

"It's okay Tao, everything is fine now. And you've finished a ton of our work."

"This doesn't make sense, though." Kyungsoo pointed out, still suspicious. "He said that the fortieth trial was to let Y/N go through with it without fixing time. If she died the first time, and he passed out before he could re-model the train, how is she still alive?" Tao hadn't even thought about that. How was Y/N still alive. They all looked to her, and she shrank back from the attention.

"Uh, I don't know. It hurt for a minute, but I think that was just my fear. It was really loud and hot. I had a few burns from the sparks, but Lay took care of them." She showed her clean arms. "I'm fine, though, we should worry about Tao-" As she was saying this, he disappeared.

Not getting up, not leaving, nothing. One minute, he was sitting on the floor, and the next he was gone. Kris was the first to look behind them, then towards the tracks, and everywhere in between. They weren't exactly used to Tao's time traveling, but they generally knew how it worked. As long as they were moving and interacting, he was unfrozen, and he generally stayed nearby, but there was technically no basis to uphold that. At any moment, they could have been paused for hundreds of years, and they wouldn't even have known.

"Where did he go?" Kris growled, glaring.

"Calm down." Lay muttered to him.

"I know you're around here somewhere!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, completely ignoring Lay's advice. Picking up the phone from where he had left it on the ground, Y/N saw that his challenge had been completed. Showing it to Suho, they read through it together.

Congratulations! You have completed the time trials. Welcome to Round 4! Round 4 will consist of 9 trials for all players. If a player cannot continue or chooses to drop out, the trial will be null for that player and they will be penalized with the dropout fee. Other players are not affected. Round 4 will end after trial 50.

"Guys!" He screamed out, looking around desperately. His body was tired, his mind was tired, it was impossible to think. "Where are you?" Tao was frantically spinning in search of his friends, looking to where they had been standing just moments before. The train was jumping in and out of view, flitting from where it had ben sitting, to down the track, to completely gone, then back again. The rails were changing from rusted, to shiny, back to cracked, then to nearly completely buried. Everything around him was clouded in a murky gray, as if he'd entered a black and white comic.

Watching as everything glitched in and out around him, he sank into the ground, tears still streaming down his face from the horrors he had endured earlier. Falling backwards, he looked to the sky, where the birds overhead were growing larger and smaller, until finally, it looked less like a bird and more like a dinosaur.

Wait... it didn't look like a dinosaur, it was a dinosaur.

Swooping down, the thing launched itself at him, intent on catching its prey. He tried to pause time, but in doing so, everything around him shattered like glass, little realistic pieces of the scene around him separated by vivid white lines. Then it reformed, broke again, healed itself, over and over. The sound alone was driving him insane. Every time he tried to rise, he'd only be able to stay for a few seconds, before crashing once more.

This had to have been his power. He was watching everything age and reverse, launching through the timelines at unprecedented speeds. One second he was at the opening ceremony for the railroad, the next in the jurassic era. He wasn't able to control it, and he was stuck there, looping back and forth in a dizzy vertigo spinning out of control. Then, for just a brief second, he saw his friends once more, walking down the road towards where he'd left Kris's car.

"Stop! Wait! Wait for me, I'm right here!" He yelled desperately as their figures shakily tried to remain in view by Tao's sheer willpower. "Suho! I'm still here, can't you see me?" He was screaming, chasing after them. They were becoming less and less easy to discern.

"Y/N! Please!" He begged, "I-" Before he could even make it to them, they completely dissipated, sending him sprawling into a new time, causing him to throw up on the ground in front of him. He wouldn't have to worry about the mess as he was tossed again. Would it ever stop?

Go to Chapter 27

#exo #exo x reader #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #kyungsoo #kai #sehun #suho #chen #chanyeol #lay #xiumin #baekhyun #kris #luhan #tao #x reader #kpop #Kpop x reader #Kpop fanfiction #Kpop fanfic #trials

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trying-write-fanfics · 4 years

Text

OverhaulXReader part 42 (O)

It was the worst day.

“I hate you.” Shigraki said after kicking the stretcher Overhaul was strapped to. “Tell me again whose the next leader is going to be.”

Overhaul had accepted not only had he lost, but he would die too.

“Have you come to kill me?” He croaked.

“No, I thought of something you’ll hate even more than that.” Shigraki said.

Now what? What could be worse.

“I hate you truly.” Said the deranged man. “You’re so full of yourself.”

Mr. Compress marbleized Overhaul’s left arm. What next his leg? His head? He was a husk of a man. He wanted it all to be over. Laying there, strapped down felt like an entirety. They were going to pull him apart and squeeze him out, weren’t they?

“Two little boxes, which one holds the finished product?” Shigraki said, holding the blood bullets of Y/n and Eri. How dare he. That was all he had of Y/n… she wasn’t the finished product, but she proved he could change the world. Now that man is holding her with his filthy hands. “I’ll just take both.”

“That’s mine.”

“You know what I think, Overhaul? I think someone who's obsessed with erasing quirks shouldn’t have one of their own.” Shigraki said. “Don’t you agree.”

Overhaul was now waking up more and understanding the soon consequences. As the man reached for his arm and began decaying, fear infected Overhaul. Something he hadn’t felt in awhile. He never thought he’d lose to that kid or Lemillion. They were never supposed to try that hard for only one child. They had an escape route in everything! Everything he had worked for, Pops, Y/n, the world…

“If we don’t cut that off your whole body will turn to dust.”

The knife went through.

“And just like that you’re helpless, you’re a weak quirkless loser! All the fruits of your labor belong to me! NOW YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE A THUMB TO SUCK ON! You’re DOOMED TO WATCH FROM THE SIDELINES As your DREAM FALLS APART! Let’s do our best!”

Dry, his body felt dry. The air was suffocating. His longs felt like they were con-caving and collapsing. The pressure of his actions were crushing him. He would have to live and never be able to put Pops back together. He wouldn’t die from his failure but be forced to face it everyday. He let out a throating scream as they walked away. He couldn’t fathom what would be next. Mercy. Mercy the thought he would have facing that man. He thought he would just end him and be done unlike those heroes. Pops was going to die and it was his own fault. All the precautions he took, all the planing, experiments, sacrifices and risks for this.

When backup arrived he was mentally undone. Unable to speak or help them, but they knew it was the league anyway due to the burns. It wasn’t like they needed Overhaul anyway, only to just throw him away in jail. They lightly sedated Overhaul, he was still able to hear and see, but his mind was everywhere. As they loaded him back in, one of the paramedics found another small box.

“A ring? Who was this for?” They laughed shoving the diamond in his face.

Y/n. He lost her blood, he lost her ring, now he had to understand he was going to lose one of his best supporters. His men supported him out of fear, curiosity, maybe a bond to the old boss, giving them life purpose, or wanting to further their strengths. They were with him because of their own small reasons that affected themselves. Y/n loved him. For all that he was. He had his secrets, but he did it to protect her. If he died, he knew she would grieve, but would take care of herself. The truth was going to come out, him alive would now haunt her wouldn’t it. He kept her far away from his work to keep her mind safe and body safe. Now police were going to find her, and do what with her? They’ll accuse her of her blood in the drugs, or tie her into being some sort of accomplice to his crimes even though she was at work. His men won’t know her, and won’t drag her down, but the court case she’ll go through will unravel her. Her parents will tell her “I told you so” and she will lose her mind. He knew she needed him for comfort and support, he wasn’t the best at it, but now he’ll be caged, helpless and away.

Kai lost his arms. He was locked in a cell alone. The food was flavorless. His eyes dull. The prison told him they were maybe going to invest in robotic arms. He lost all forms of his power, but his heart still beat. Kai would dream about the days with Y/n. How so badly she tried helping him with his touch aversion, and now he finds himself internally begging for it once more. The accidental brushes followed by the apologies, or to hear her sing in the choir once more. He kept replaying memories in his head. He didn’t know where she was, if she was being interviewed, if she was safe, if she knew, and how she was taking it.

An officer came in and tried getting more information about the case, any customers, possible other children, how it came to be. Kai wasn’t much help. He was in jail with no chance to leave. All his luck was out and how he would rot in prison. He may have lost, but just giving out free untampered information like that wasn’t going to be given freely like that.

He lost track of time. He couldn’t see the sun, nor the sky. Unlike before he did sleep more. He could never tell if they did turn off the lights there. There wasn’t even a clock. Then something happened.

“You have a visitor.”

___30- minutes earlier. __

“And that’s all the safety procedures here.” The guard said .

“So Chisaki Kai isn’t as monitored because he doesn’t have arms?”

“He was a waste of a camera space. All he does is lay down, or sometimes walks in a circle. When he gets approved for robotic arms then we might. It’ll probably be a mood booster for the guy.” the guard explained. “His quirk has been disabled, there is nothing he can do.”

“He doesn’t really need a mood booster.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty terrible out there in the world, but he’s pretty pathetic here.”

—present

Kai was hoping it was Y/n. Angry, sad, whatever feelings she harbored he wanted to see her alive. Anything. He kept her separate from all the business but how long would the police and league know about her connection to him? He kept all her letters and had a picture of her, even gifts he had planned to give her. Disappointment took hold of his body when it was a man. He was tall, muscular but thin, and blond. He wore a yellow hoodie. He didn’t look professional but reminded him of that damn schoolboy Lemillion. The guard put him in a chair and left.

“Who are you? What do you want?” Kai wasn’t feeling it, sure it would be the most human interaction he had in awhile, but he wasn’t looking for a stranger. This many surely wasn’t a lawyer.

“My name doesn’t matter to you. I have information you’d be interested in, and I want information out of you.” The man said.

“What could you-“

The man held a picture of Y/n in a hospital bed. It was a recent picture. Her arms were bandaged and so was her head. Her eyes were closed. Was that the Shigraki’s doing? How did he find her? She’s not dead is she? No, that man is too calm.

“What connection does she have with you?”

Kai pressed his lips down.

“I don’t know what you’re implying-“

“(First name last name) was found at the scene of the compound. She was injured by the debris that busted out when you blew a hole. Ms. (Last name) would have no reason to go to that neighborhood at all that morning, her work was in the opposite direction. Examining police records she was attacked by someone because of an alleged connection to you three years ago. I can continue, but you get the picture.”

She was there? Why was she there? Why of all days did she go to the compound without contacting him? How bad were her injuries?

“Her blood was found in some of your bullets. Don’t make me ask again.”

“She‘s my girlfriend.” Kai finally answered. “Is she alright?”

“I’ll get to that when that comes up. What did she do for the Shie Hassakai? Why was her blood in those bullets?”

“Her blood was the experiment. I knew her quirk would be able to affect most bodies. Once it was proven quirks can go into other bodies, I was able to go to the next phase.”

“Did she let you take her blood?”

Kai looked away.

“Did she consent to that, Chisaki?”

“No. She was drunk when I took her blood. She had been drinking a lot.”

“Why?”

“She cut ties with her parents.”

The blond man sat back, as if that was the first thing he learned.

“You're a sick man.” The blond said. “You preyed on her didn’t you.”

“I tried keeping her away from my work.”

“What’s her quirk?”

“It’s a regeneration quirk.”

“How did she learn of it?”

“She lost her fingers.”

“Was it your fault?”

“I couldn’t protect her.”

“And you couldn’t protect her now.” the man growled. “Intentional or not, these injuries are your fault.”

“Is she alright?” Kai asked. “I’ve answered enough questions to at least deserve to know that.”

“She hasn’t awoke yet. This isn’t her first concussion. The hospital put her in a coma.”

Kai’s eyes widened. Y/n too. Pops and Y/n were going to leave this world behind and leave Kai here to rot in jail for years on years! He could save her if they took him to her!

“Should she worry about the League of Villains?” The blond asked.

“Yes...I don’t know if they know of her existence, but I don’t know if they would look for her.” Kai said. “Tell me, is she going to die?”

“I don’t know.” The blond tall man said.

Kai looked at the man he thought didn't look threatening at all, but was the absolute worst. He toyed with him information about his love, his angel.

“Thank you for your cooperation.”

“She better be protected.” Kai told him.

“That’s none of your business.”

His rock bottom kept digging deeper. Pops was going to die. Everything he worked for was now undone, stolen. Y/n is in a coma.

#overhaulxreader #overhaul #chisaki kai #chisaki kaixreader #bnha #bnha fanfiction #xreader

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