#wraith is back at it again with another crazy idea

[wr-n]

ADSFDKKKJ TEETH

AauuughhhHHHh TeeeeeEEETH

teeth ooougGHHH

Dust's teeth....

[ultramagicalternate]

ULTRAMagic Prelude Chapter 12.5

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Master Post

“I don’t think you can get yourself a partner…” Tusk stated. “...Fair enough, but you’re a machine… So you think there could be another primordial for you out there?” His conversation with the War Machine was going in all sorts of weird directions. “Well look, I’m not the one to ask for relationship advice. My forte is Alchemy…”

“Why isn’t it then?” Corentin inquired as he and Kresimira approached.

Tusk groaned. “It just isn’t. Enough said.”

Kresimira hid her grin. She had a rough idea of what was up. “Well no matter then, hehe. We’re ready to go, Tusk.”

“What happened to your dress?”

“This is my dress. I just turned it into hiking attire.”

“Kresimira’s dress is a unique, shapeshifting entity,” Corentin explained. “It is capable of turning into whatever the wearer needs. Drago’s trenchcoat is the sibling to this entity. While not impossible to find, they are quite rare. In case you’re curious, Duke Radovan went out and sought these entities as birthday presents.”

Kresimira chuckled. “Papa always goes overboard when he sets his mind to something.”

The trip over to The Unending Forest felt incredibly surreal for everyone. It was like they were cheating, just walking into it like that. Tusk stopped for a second at the border, then continued onward. The forest was most likely asking him what he was up to. Nothing had changed for Tusk, but the two guests were amazed. Kresimira was enthralled by the beauty of the woods while Corentin jotted down notes like crazy. Upon passing by a certain batch of trees, the group felt that they were being watched. Tusk was pretty sure he knew who it was and elected to ignore the feeling. This is how things went up until someone leapt from the tree tops.

“UNCLE!” It was Auda, landing perfectly on his shoulders. “YOU’RE. NOT. SUPPOSED. TO BE BACK YET!” She declared as she repeatedly bopped him on the head.

“AUDA! STOP!” Tusk exclaimed as he tried to get his niece off him. Kresimira and Corentin laughed at the spectacle.

“Oh don’t worry, dear. We’re just visiting is all” Kresimira stated.

Auda ceased her bopping and got down. “Okay. Who are you? You seem familiar… and where’s Mr. Fire?”

“I’m Kresimira Raynot. And as for that feeling, I’m Dragoslava’s older sister. Also goodness, you’re so cute.”

“Oh! Nice to meet you, Drago’s sister! And who’s this?”

Corentin stopped taking notes for a moment. “My name is Corentin Marin Schindewolf, rebuilder of The War Machine of Old and Kresimira’s betrothed…”

“Betrothed? Whoa, one step at a time, tiger…” Kresimira muttered.

“War… war machine…of… war machine of…” Auda was confused.

“It’s another primordial, just like the forest” Tusk clarified.

Auda nodded. “Oh, okay… What about Mr. Fire?”

“Blood-Wraith? He’s doing fine, '' Kresimira answered. “He’s busy studying Alchemy and knee deep in his books. I presume you wish to see him again sometime soon?” She then noticed something off in the distance.

“Leave the forest? Oh no, I can’t do that yet… Oh, Uncle Tusk? Donia is back.”

Tusk’s face said it all. “Oh jeez…” A trail of crystals was barreling right at him. With a swift thrust of the hand, the crystals stopped in their tracks. Bolts of energy shot from Tusk’s hand, turning the crystals into a flurry of flower petals.

Kresimira applauded. “My my, Tusk. How Beautiful.”

“Come on, Sleepy Bark! You can do better than that!” A female voice called out.

“Donia, please don’t call me that…”

Standing before Tusk was a Tree Person similar to himself, differing from Auda and the rest. Donia had pink hair that resembled petals, tied back in a ponytail. The light that emanated from her body was lavender and her bark was the color of oak. 

“So Tusk, my darling, you finally got off your roots and did something!”

“Yes… I didn’t want to, but yes…” Tusk grunted, albeit with a hint of cautious optimism in his voice.

“And you even brought friends alon… Wait a second, you made friends? Other than me? Since when?” Donia was baffled.

Auda took this opportunity to step up to the plate. “You see Donia, there was Mr. Fire and his friends! They came here, and then they went looking around, and then I woke up uncle, and then he gave Mr. Fire some of his soul, and then they all chased off that mean old Lich dummy head!”

Donia stared at Tusk in disbelief. “I leave for one moment and you chase off the Lich? Really?!”

“Well actually it was Desislav…”

“Details details! I’m so proud of you! Ahem, hey there, strangers. Name’s Donia Albronda. I’m Tusk’s female buddy, gal pal, girlfriend.” Tusk was embarrassed. “Don’t worry, I caught your names when you were talking to Auda.”

Something Kresimira noticed as they walked and talked was that Donia had charred hands. In particular they lacked bark and looked like charcoal. Donia explained that she liked fire-based Alchemy. The crystal-based stuff did not help either. Tree People were actually fairly sensitive to certain elements. Tusk never had Donia’s problem as he preferred working with earth and water. The only issue he ever had was occasional moss outbreaks all over his body. And in regards to the nickname Tusk had, this was due to his habit of turning into a tree from time to time. Blood-Wraith’s initial encounter was not unique in the slightest. In fact, one time Donia had put a bird’s nest in Tusk’s branches to mess with him.

At the village, things were busy as they usually were. The group was greeted by Sigmund, who was out for a walk. “Tusk, my boy! It’s only been a week and you’re back already?”

“I know I know, but I need to pick up some stuff from my lab, for Blood.”

“Ha, I noticed you left a bit unprepared. Also Donia! Good to see you again, lass. How’d the trip to the labyrinth go?”

“Hey, chief. It… It went poorly. I got to the entrance and got cold feet” Donia admitted.

“No worry, Donia. That is a truly dangerous place, the Magician’s Labyrinth. I’m just glad you didn’t get hurt. Perhaps another time in the future? Of course I’d much prefer you avoid such perilous quests…”

Corentin stepped forward and gave a dignified bow. “Chief Sigmund, it is an honor and a pleasure to meet you.”

“Another Schindewolf, ey? Barna spoke highly of you, despite your reputation.”

“Really? Father’s been here? Ha, that would explain some of the craftsmanship I’ve been seeing around the village. I’d recognize his work anywhere.”

Now it was Kresimira’s turn for an introduction. “Hello there, Chief Sigmund. I’m Dragoslava’s sister, Kresimira Raynot.”

“Nice to meet you. I can certainly sense the family resemblance. You two have very similar auras. Now I presume you are both here to study and observe?”

Kresimira nodded. “Pretty much. Corentin here wanted to go with Tusk and I tagged along to make sure he doesn’t get into trouble.” Corentin chuckled. “Plus I wanted to get out of the city.”

Sigmund studied Corentin for a second, wanting to get a read on him. “Alright then. I won’t hold you all up any longer. Enjoy your stay in the village and feel free to speak to me if you need any assistance. Best of luck to all of you, Tusk’s lab is a mess, haha.”

The way to the laboratory was close to Tusk’s usual spot, but he and Auda had to show their guests around first. The rest of the Tree People were not too sure what to make of the newcomers. Kresimira seemed nice enough, but Corentin was hard to read. This went doubly so for all of the books he was borrowing. Eventually the group arrived at Tusk’s lab. It was locked up for obvious reasons, however. Tusk approached a bizarre lock and entered a special combination into it. The door began to move, opening with a creaking noise. A dank, musty smell washed over the group as they entered.

Tusk’s Alchemy lab was a mess, like Sigmund had warned. Tools were misplaced, papers were strewn about everywhere, and leftover experiments had long since corroded into nothing. There was also mold and moss all over the place. Tusk clapped his hands, causing bolts of energy to erupt from them. The unwanted fungus and plant life vanished as it was all used to repair as much as possible. Definitely quite the transmutation that greatly improved the state of things as a whole. Kresimira was impressed by this and so was Corentin. After a witty remark from Donia, the group got work sifting through the clutter.

“Don’t go randomly rummaging through papers” Tusk cautioned. “I don’t quite remember what I was working on last.” 

Kresimira was losing her mind over the mess. So many good note papers were just wasting away. Upon lifting a stack up, she noticed a red stone on one of the desks. “Excuse me, Tusk, but what’s this?”

“Oh, that? It’s just my Philosopher’s Stone. It’s not fit for combat and I barely use it…”

Corentin was appalled and impressed. “Pardon me, Tusk! You don’t just leave Azoth laying around with careless abandon like that!”

The stone floated upwards and flung itself towards Tusk’s hand. “Hmm… Basic skill set yet has a stone” Kresimira noted.

Donia shook her head in disappointment. “What happened, Sleepy Bark? Did ULTRAMagic really bum you out that much? I mean jeez, look at this place. You even left your stone just sitting there, completely unused.”

Tusk groaned. “What’s the point if you’ve achieved your magnum opus?”

“This is your magnum opus?” Corentin asked. “Surely this can’t be it. Don’t get me wrong, a stone is a truly wondrous thing… but every alchemist creates one or something similar.”

“Things get pretty boring when you have the 5th element at your fingertips…”

“Then you’re not thinking hard enough about what you can do. You’re thinking inside the box, Tusk.”

Tusk sighed. “What am I supposed to do then? You can’t reinvent the wheel.”

“That’s something you’ll have to figure out on your own. There’d be no point to life if everything was handed to you on a silver platter. As an aside, my father once told me this: No matter how many times you forge a blade, each one will be unique. A bit unrelated, but the principle stands. Nothing we do is truly the same each time and you need to be able to spot those differences” Corentin pointed out.

“Fine, then what is your next big project?”

Corentin shrugged. “I don’t know. I have yet to be properly inspired.”

“Uncle Tusk? I really like this armor you drew up…” Auda stated, wanting to cheer him up.

Tusk took the paper and went to the back of the lab. He hefted a sliding door open, revealing the armor in question, albeit in an unfinished state. “Good lord, this mess…”

Kresimira put her hand on his shoulder. “Tusk, sweetie? Did you run into issues with this project?”

“Yeah…”

“And I thought you had scrapped this…” Donia stated. “Tusk? Can I take a swing at it?”

“Why?”

“This was our project, wasn’t it? Also I’ve picked up a thing or two during my travels.”

Tusk needed to think about it, so the group resumed cleaning and organizing. The armor was an idea he had to create a sort of bodysuit that could fit anyone and provide adequate protection from just about anything. Obviously this was a hard task to pull off and many things had tripped him up. The mounting issues eventually caused him to give up. Being content with his ULTRAMagic did not help either. Seeing the project again made him think about it, however. He also considered everything that had happened recently. Maybe he could give it another whirl. After all, he did have access to the Singing Storm Tower and its vast libraries now. Looking at the armor once more, he made up his mind.

“Donia? You can’t work on the armor… because I’m going to work on it again.”

She hugged Tusk. “There you go, Sleepy Bark! Um, can I use the lab regardless? Since you’re not going to be here?”

“Sure, I guess. I don’t see why not…”

“YEAH! Me and Aunt Donia are going to make all sorts of cool stuff!” Auda cheered.

“Auda! Donia and I aren’t married yet…”

“Don’t worry, Tusk! I’ll get working on the wedding rings!” Donia assured.

“ARGH!” Tusk complained. Everyone else laughed. Kresimira found this utterly adorable.

Once all of the relevant notes from Tusk’s collection were rounded up, Kresimira used a spell to move them and the armor to the tower. Corentin also snuck in some of Tusk’s books. Donia and Auda were thoroughly impressed by the magic. With everything ready to go, Tusk bid his niece and girlfriend farewell… Not that that meant much given where the forest and the Iron City were. Donia promised she would swing by the Singing Storm Tower every now and then. As the three returned to the city, they could spot Dragoslava’s biplane coming in for a landing. Tusk was a bit confused as he had never really seen a plane before.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Oh that’s just Drago’s plane. She occasionally uses it to get around. Think of it like a vehicle designed to travel through the air, like Leif does” Kresimira explained.

“It’s pretty impressive for a custom build” Corentin complimented. “She’s got a surprising knack for that kind of stuff.” 

“Oh, honey? Why are there Ravagers everywhere today?” Kresimira inquired, a little worried.

Corentin groaned. “The War Machine and I spotted some of Dunja’s nutcases nearby… Or perhaps they were Milosh’s… Either way, I’m not taking any chances.”

“Oh, that’s not good at all. Here’s hoping the others get back from the hunt soon.”

“I’m starting to think the great hunt was just a distraction.”

Tusk felt his blood run cold. “Wait, who’s Dunja and Milosh? Is the village in danger?”

“No, don’t worry about it,” Corentin answered. “I highly doubt The Forest of Old would allow the cult’s nonsense. As for Dunja, she’s our former queen that our people have been dealing with for some time.” 

“Should we do something about this?” Kresimira asked. “We can easily contact Papa. He’d be back within a heartbeat.” Her concern was growing.

Corentin thought for a moment. “Hmm… for now we should focus on the Lich, but call your father and tell him to be ready to move. If they could come back home, that would be even better.”

“Will do," Kresimira replied.

“What a day…” Corentin remarked as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Next: Chapter 13

ULTRAMagic Alternate © 2022 William Ford II (ChaoticTempleKnight)

[gernades]

Ace is gone. He’s been gone for five weeks. 

Nancy has had a lot of time to think. 

She sees the places where he used to be- the kitchen, his house, the spot in his driveway where Florence is always parked- and can’t stop looking at them. 

“Nancy?” 

Nancy blinks and looks up. Ace’s mother is watching her, hands resting on the dough, eyes concerned. “Are you okay?” 

Today they’re making babka-chocolate bread, braided in sections and glazed with egg wash. Nancy looks down. She’s not very good at braiding, but it mostly looks like Rebecca’s dough. 

“I’m fine,” she says, a half-smile working its way across her face. “It’s just been a long week.” Another week without Ace.  She doesn’t know why she’s here, in his house- in his kitchen- but Rebecca doesn’t seem to mind. She never has.

Nancy’s here every other day, now. They’ve made bread and biscuits and a dozen Jewish desserts that Nancy is now addicted to. 

Sometimes, Thom joins them. 

( “He’s taken quite the shine to you,” Rebecca whispers on one such day, eyes sparkling. “He’s not like this with everyone.” 

Nancy doesn’t bring up the ASL textbooks sitting new and shiny on her desk at home. 

Talking about me again, Thom signs over his shoulder, and Rebecca laughs, flicks him on the shoulder. )

Now, Rebecca gently sets down her dough and wipes her fingers off on her apron. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

No, thank you, is Nancy’s knee jerk reaction. She pauses before letting the words come out. She’s been doing that more often, as of late. Sana-her therapist- would be proud. 

Nancy purses her lips and drags a finger through the loose flour on the counter. “It’s nothing, really. I’m just… going through a lot with my dad’s business, and... I can’t help but feel like I’m never going to be happy again.” 

The last part she doesn’t mean to say out loud. “I’m sorry,” Nancy says immediately, and lifts her head up. “That was…” 

“Oh, honey,” Rebecca whispers. Her eyes are shiny. “I don’t know exactly what’s been going on, but I can tell that it’s been hard on you. You’ve always been so strong. Just like your mother.” 

“Hm,” Nancy manages, throat tight and vision blurry. When Rebecca bustles around the table and wraps her arms around her, she doesn’t pull away. 

Rebecca smells like soap and rosemary: she is warm and accepting and she makes Nancy’s heart hurt less. This will have to end eventually, but she can’t help but lean into it anyway.

                                                              *** 

“You’ve been spending a lot of time out of the house,” Carson remarks later that night. 

They’re sitting at the dinner table, doing their best to eat what is supposed to be spaghetti, courtesy of Ryan. He’s still learning how to use basic appliances: his cooking is dangerous.

 Nancy wrinkles her nose and stabs at a coagulated lump of pasta. 

“Yeah. Nothing bad. I’ve just been… baking.” 

Ryan hums and shoves a forkful of food into his mouth. Nancy and Carson watch in amazement as he gets it down without gagging. “You’re really good at it, too. That, uh, chocolate croissant thingy you brought home yesterday was amazing.” 

Nancy raises an eyebrow, amused. “The rugelach?” 

Ryan jabs his fork into the air. “Yes. So good.” 

“Spending time with Rebecca, I gather?” Carson’s voice is light and free of judgement. Before the whole Wraith thing, Nancy would have pulled up her walls, deflected the conversation. 

It’s a little different now, though, so Nancy just nods. “It’s just... nice to have someone to talk to who’s normal.” 

Carson sighs and rubs her shoulder. “I understand that completely.” 

“Hey,” Ryan states, expression pinched, “is pasta supposed to make my stomach bubbly?” 

Nancy and Carson exchange a long, tired look. 

They take Ryan to the ER for food poisoning. 

                                                              *** 

George slams a palm down onto the table. Her engagement ring sparkles in the afternoon light. Nancy jumps. “It’s been quiet, Drew. Too quiet. I don’t trust it.” 

Nancy takes a long look around the Claw. It’s nearly packed to the brim with customers- their Yelp ratings have skyrocketed since the staff have actually started working again. “This is your idea of quiet?” 

George groans and slides into the opposite booth. “You know what I mean. We’ve had nothing supernatural happen for almost a month. It’s driving me crazy.” 

“Good,” Nancy replies mildly, and takes another bite of her crab roll. “I’m taking a sabbatical from sleuthing.” 

Sana was the one to suggest a break from anything stressful- like sports or large events! Avoiding murder and possession via the paranormal probably isn’t what her therapist means, but Nancy can read between the lines. 

George screeches. Half the restaurant turns to look at them. They turn back when they see who it is. 

“What?” She narrows her eyes and leans in. “Okay. I never thought I’d live to see the Hero of Horseshoe Bay gives herself a break.” She crosses her arms. “I’m proud of you, Nancy.” 

Nancy’s heart hums. She sends George a grateful smile. “Thanks.” 

George smiles back. “Your lunch break was over ten minutes ago, by the way. I need you to clean out the grease traps.” 

Nancy’s smile drops. 

The grease traps are gross, hard work. They’re also the last normal thing Nancy did with Ace, which is equal parts sad and amusing. 

She grits her teeth and scrubs her cloth against the dirty metal. At least it’s cool here, in the kitchen, and away from the always-prying eyes of customers. 

The bell above the restaurant door tinkles faintly. Nancy sighs and dips her rag into the bucket of degreaser. 

Bess screams, high-pitched and excited. “Ace!” 

Nancy stands up so quickly that she knocks the bucket onto its side. No way. 

He can’t be back- it’s too soon, too late. Nancy needs to think more. If he’s back, she can’t go to his house again, can she?

Heart pounding, she creeps over to the window and peers into the restaurant. He’s surrounded by Bess and George- and, after a moment, Nick jogs in from the parking lot, smile blinding. 

Nancy wants to go see him. She does. Her feet seem to have other ideas, though. She can’t seem to move at all. 

Ace looks good. His hair is longer, and sun-bleached; his skin is tanned. Even from this distance Nancy can see the new freckles on his face. 

There’s a leather jacket, black and tight around his shoulders- and two new silver studs in his ears. He’s smiling. He looks happy.

 Nancy’s chest aches. 

“Hey,” she hears him say to George, “Where’s Nancy?” 

Nancy takes a half step backwards. 

“Cleaning the grease traps in the kitchen,” George replies, spreading her arms in a grand gesture. “The best job in the world.” 

Ace laughs. 

Nancy runs. 

She doesn’t really run- she simply makes a strategic, tactical retreat into the staff room and out the back door. 

There’s no time to overthink it- not yet, her brain and heart agree. Not yet. 

Nancy thanks her former self for parking her car at the very edge of the lot. Nobody notices as she pulls out onto the road, a full two hours before her shift is supposed to end. 

Ooh, she’s a little runaway! Bon Jovi croons on the radio. Daddy’s girl learned fast- 

Nancy grits her teeth and pushes her foot against the accelerator. 

All those things he couldn’t say! Ooh, she’s a little runawa-

Nancy spins the radio dial with fumbling fingers, and spends the rest of her drive listening to germanic opera. 

“Shit.” 

                                                               *** 

“Jesus,” Ryan says when he opens the front door. “You look worse than I do, and I spent three hours getting my stomach pumped last night.” 

Nancy pushes past him without a word. 

Ryan’s voice lowers, softens. “Nancy. Hey.” He reaches out, gently wraps a hand around her wrist. She stops walking. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” Nancy says, but her words come out wobbly, uneven. 

Ryan scoots a little closer. “Okay, well… that’s a lie.” 

Nancy snorts. “Ace is back.” 

Ryan smiles, relieved. “That’s great!” He pauses. “Isn’t it?” When she says nothing, he squints his eyes, searches her face. “Oh,” he says finally. “I see.” 

Nancy stiffens, alarmed. “How did you-,” 

Ryan sighs and taps his cheek. “We make the same kind of face, you know. Genetics and all that.” 

“Shit,” Nancy says again, and tries very hard not to sink through the floor. 

“Don’t worry,” Ryan promises. “I wont say anything.”

“What’s going on?” 

Ryan and Nancy turn to face Carson, who is wrapped in a purple robe, fresh out of the shower. He takes one look at the expression on Nancy’s face and rushes over. “Is there another entity-,” 

“No,” Nancy says vehemently. She drops her head onto his shoulder, breathes in the smell of his aftershave. “I’m just not feeling well.” 

Neither of her dads press her for more- they simply stand like that, the three of them, for a very long time. 

                                                              *** 

        George: where the hell are u?? 

        George: hello? nancy?

        George: are u ok

        Bess: ACE IS BACK!!!! :D

        Bess: wait where r u 

        Nick: Did something happen? 

        Ace: hey. i just got back. where are you? 

“No,” Nancy says softly, and turns off her phone. “I am not good.” 

She needs a plan. Something to protect herself, and to spare everyone from the complications that one-sided feelings often bring. It’s been a good five weeks, if she doesn’t include the whole Ace thing. It’s been peaceful. Happy. 

She doesn’t want to ruin that. 

Nancy draws her knees up to her chest and stares out the window. I think I’ll just have to pretend. It’s either that, or avoiding Ace altogether- which would be impossible.

No more baking with Rebecca and Thom, either. That hurts more than Nancy wants to admit- but she’s already made up her mind. She’ll keep her feelings on the back burner, and do her best to keep things normal. 

With a sigh, she stands, and goes upstairs to take a much-needed nap. 

She dreams again. It’s the same one she’s been having every night for the past five weeks.

Nancy dreams of silk and cigarette smoke- because Ace always has to light one up after he has a joint- and of the ocean. The waves lap at the shore, rhythmic and quiet. It’s peaceful, here. Safe.

She dreams about a cliff, soft grass: warm, roving hands and a familiar mouth against her own. If she calls out his name in her sleep, that’s her problem.

 If she wakes up sweaty and teary-eyed, that’s her problem, too.

[hoodoo12]

The Ties That Bind (And How to Follow Them) 4/?

@bunnys-beetlejuice-blog @werwulfy @turtlepated @strange-n-unbluusual @mel-time @fireflower1015 @go-whovian-universe @sweetcat-666 @genderless-cryptid @monsterlovinghours @heresathreebee @rainingpaint @infptarius

Pate was at a loss. She’d never seen Beetlejuice like this. His hair, already lightened to a pale green shot through with red and yellow and purple in his distress, blanched even further when she mentioned going to Lillian. That alone was enough to convince her that her mentor had somehow trapped him in this mirror-verse where he could see and hear but not be heard.

His increasing upset hurt her deeply, and when he suddenly disappeared from view her heart plummeted and she pressed herself to the glass, hoping to see what he was doing but without him in front of her her own reflection blocked her view. She wished she could reach him, hold him, soothe him, hating her own helplessness.

At length he came back, his pale face even more pale than normal, his ash colored hair still streaked to show his frustration and fear. He looked close to tears, and Pate wasn’t even sure he was capable of tears. His lips moved softly and though she couldn’t hear him the message was clear.

Pate offered him a thin smile and shook her head, pressing her palm to the glass again.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she assured him. “Just give me one second to get my phone and I’m gonna call Lillian. She has to fix this. We’ll make her fix this.”

Keeping her eyes locked on his until the doorway and bedroom wall came between them, Pate dashed to the living room to retrieve her phone, hurrying back to the bathroom where Beetlejuice looked visibly relieved to see her return.

She thumbed through her contacts and smashed Lillian’s name, raising the phone to her ear. It was late, but Pate didn’t care if she woke Lillian up. The phone rang several times before it picked up.

“Hello? Pate? What are you doing calling this time of night?” Lillian asked.

“What did you do to him?” Pate demanded without preamble.

Lillian didn’t answer at first, and Pate heard what sounded like bedclothes being swept aside and a lamp being flicked on.

“I take it you mean the creature that invaded my kitchen,” Lillian finally drawled distastefully. “I did what you should have done, I sent him where he can’t harm anybody.”

“Beetlejuice wouldn’t hurt anybody anyway!” Pate insisted hotly. “He’s my . . . ” she trailed off, glancing at him in the mirror, knowing he could hear what she said. “He’s special. He’s important to me and I care about him,” she said. “You have to let him out. Or at least tell me how to and I’ll do it myself.”

Lillian sighed tiredly, as if she were dealing with a particularly exhausting situation. “Pate, whatever you think he means to you, the bottom line is he’s not human. He’s a demon, a wraith, a trickster. You’re better off without him.”

“I don’t care, tell me what to do to let him out.”

“No.”

The blunt refusal startled her. “You have to! You can’t leave him like this, stuck in my bathroom mirror!”

Speaking mostly to herself, Lillian said, “I should’ve figured he’d worm his way out. Should’ve sealed the mirror, too. Pate, nothing good can come of you having a live-in demon, I don’t care what feelings you might have about it. I’m going back to bed and that entity is staying right where he is. Good night.”

The line went dead. Angry, frustrated and panicked Pate immediately dialed again but it went straight to voicemail. Lillian had turned off her phone.

With a huff she slung her phone onto the counter, fixing Beetlejuice with a desperate expression.

“We’re gonna figure this out,” she said. “We’re gonna go over there and make her let you out.”

An idea struck her, and Pate crossed the room to the cabinets set into the wall, rifling through for what she was looking for. She turned back to Beetlejuice with a hand mirror.

“Do you think you can crawl into this mirror?” she asked. “Then I can take you with me.”

⁂

Out of all the crazy things they'd done together, crawling into a mirror that his lover held was barely a blip on the radar, even if she held it out in front of her or to her side as she walked. He wasn't incredibly excited about being shoved in a purse--or to see Ms. Lillian Borden again, truthfully--but he had no idea what else to do.

Beej heard the one-sided conversation Pate had had, had seen the quick look she’d sent his way before saying he was "special", and could only imagine what her mentor's response to that had been. He doubted anything Pate was going to tell her would make a difference. Still, it would be worth a shot to try and talk reason to the woman. He lifted his shoulder in a shrug as Pate displayed the mirror. He had no clue if her suggestion would work but was willing to try. Motioning her closer, she read what he meant and brought the mirror in her hand up to press against the glass of the bathroom counterpart. For a moment, all he could see was his own reflection. With deeper shadows under his eyes than normal and hair that was washed out more than colored, he looked worse than he thought.

Raising a hand as if to touch the mirror image, the interior surface of the mirror was tacky instead of smooth. It took a bit of effort to actually pull his hand back, and threads of what looked like spun glass, growing thinner the further away he pulled his hand, trailed from his fingertips. It seemed reluctant to let him go. If he was ruining Pate’s bathroom mirror, well, she mentioned in passing updating it anyway. Beej heard her asking what he was doing, if it was working, and decided it was better to just go for it and deal with consequences as they fell. With that determined spirit, he shoved his hand back through the glass. It felt as though he was pushing into molten, but cold, lava, all thick and clinging. Good thing he didn’t need to breathe, because it was going to take a moment to get through it and then get clean of it. Tentacles had to assist carrying him through the two layers of glass. Beetlejuice could only imagine what Lillian would think of those, chuckling to himself, then liquidish glass got in his mouth. There was nothing to do about it at the moment; trying to wipe it away would result in an arm moving backwards and that was not what he wanted right now! Finally, after more effort than he put into a lot of things, he managed to push himself into another endless white space. It didn’t look any smaller than the previous ones, and now he wondered how many compacts or other small mirrors he’d crawled through. The second his feet hit the ground and were free of the glass he found it was gone. There was no residue of any sort. Were all mirrors magic and just needed the right person to activate them? A question for Lillian, if she was willing to take questions from a pupil she seemed to like and a ghost she most definitely did not. Beetlejuice went to pound on the glass to alert Pate he’d moved, but the thought of getting snared by the inside of the new mirror gave him pause. He had to wait until she grew impatient and looked for herself.

⁂

Pate couldn’t help feeling a little foolish, standing with the small, round makeup mirror pressed against her medicine cabinet. Whatever Beetlejuice was doing, his reflection disappeared from the cabinet mirror to be replaced with her own.

Turning the smaller mirror around to face her, Pate beamed to see that the idea had worked, Beetlejuice looked out at her from the handheld mirror.

Wasting no more time she went back through into the bedroom, grabbed her wallet with her license inside from her purse, as well as her car keys.

“Let’s go see Ms. I-Know-What’s-Best-For-You Borden and get you back in the flesh,” she said, addressing Beetlejuice in the mirror as she locked her apartment door behind her.

What would it look like, she wondered, if someone saw her talking to the mirror?

Simple, she told herself. They’ll think you’re crazy. And maybe you are.

This time of night traffic was minimal and it didn’t take long to drive straight to Lillian’s downtown shop/apartment. Pate parked in a spot on the street, closing her door with perhaps a little more force than necessary, locking the car and cradling Beetlejuice’s mirror in her other hand.

There were internal steps up to Lillian’s apartment, but the shop was locked up at this hour. Pate rounded the building, heading for the fire escape. She had to set Beetlejuice down and climb up on a dumpster to reach the ladder, but after a few failed attempts she managed to pull it down with an earsplitting creak of protesting metal.

Retrieving the mirror that held her demon lover, Pate raced up the rickety steel steps as quickly as she dared, finding herself at Lillian’s sitting room window. She tried to open the window, finding it thankfully unlocked. She wouldn’t put it past Lillian to have some otherworldly impediments in place, designed to keep out apparitions but not people. Sliding the window open, Pate swung herself in one leg at a time.

“Lillian?” she called into the apartment, making no pretense at stealth. “Lillian, come out here and undo this.”

Pate didn’t hear that?! Maybe it was just spectral, maybe it was just something only people snared in tiny mirrors could hear, but the cries from inside the antique store from the various beings on the first floor were unnerving. Even the shriek of rusty metal joints on the fire escape moving after years of neglect was melodious compared to them. Something had happened. He didn’t know what, but Beej didn’t like it one tiny bit. He yelled at Pate to stop. Even at the top of his lungs she couldn’t hear him. Dredging up the deepest, most demonic voice he could had no effect. He was mute and helpless.

The television was on, I Love Lucy reruns flickering black and white with the volume low. Pate could see the top of Lillian’s head over the back of her recliner, facing away towards the TV. Angered by being ignored, Pate strode across the room, repeating her demand.

“Lillian, you tell me how to fix this. I don’t want Beetlejuice locked away, he’s -”

Pate cut off abruptly as she rounded the chair and saw the figure seated there.

Lillian Borden’s face was almost blue in the light from her TV, her eyes opened but staring unseeing at the ceiling, hands resting peacefully on the arms of her chair.

She was dead.

⁂ The scene inside the old woman’s apartment was nothing short of a horror movie set up. The lights were off, the room lit only by flickering from the television. Pate was demanding an answer and then a response. She stepped around the chair, and her hand dropped to her side as she choked her own sentence off, and her hand mirror slipped from her fingers, giving Beej a roller coaster ride as it fell, then a great view of the ceiling of the room when it hit the floor. If it was good or bad the glass didn’t break he’d never know, because Pate scooped him up almost as quickly as he’d fallen. Her apology he waved away as no worries, and she turned him towards her mentor in the chair. “Oh,” Beej said quietly at the sight of the dead woman. Now that posed something interesting. Never mind there was no way for her to undo the spell that trapped him in his current state, he didn’t sense her spirit or any evidence she drew a door and left the earthly plane. Of course, his view was limited to wherever Pate pointed his mirror. Or he’d been restricted by Lillian’s hasty capture of him somehow. Whatever it was, it warranted looking into once he was free again.

That was low on the priority list, however. He still needed out, and the woman who’d put him here was well past helping.

tbc . . .

[nightmaremybeloved]

because its going to be awhile before sbi are mentioned in my vampire the masquerade au, i really want to do just a quick little profile on them because i think they’re quirky and fun. so here’s wonderwall i guess:

tommy is a lasombra. the easiest way to describe lasombra is...well, there isn’t a super easy way to describe them. they command the shadows (obviously), but the reasons ive given this clan to tommy are because of the lasombra’s connections to ghosts (called wraiths in the world of darkness) and the church (church of prime reference ayo). other important thing to note, that i dont see as spoilers, is tommy’s sire is actually dream...so if you’ve read and call them brothers you’ll have a little more of an idea on how the clan lasombra operates (wont go into detail about tommy and dream’s relationship in this au because it’ll be something heavily covered in the main story). he’s the au’s little fledgling (read: punching bag) and is more or less the introduction into exactly what vampire society is for the audience. at least in the context of l’manburg vampire society. going to move on because if im not careful i will run into spoilers, because tommy’s journey is kind of the whole point of his point of view.

wilbur is a toreador. and if you know anything about vampire you know that that man, in and out of character, is the most toreador a person can be. when you think of toreador you’re first thought is usually twilight vampires...then you remember twilight vampires are just anne rice vampires with conservative values and less weaknesses and amend that thought. toreadors love art, they love music, they love humanity for what it creates and what they do with life. some would say they’re the most human of the clans, i’d say they’re the clan that romanticizes humanity the most. wilbur isn’t an incredibly old vampire, though he’ll insist he made l’manburg what it was before being forced to flee and needless to say he’s spending this au trying to get back what he’s owed, what was his to begin with. there’s a fun mix of l’manburg revolution era wilbur and pogtopia wilbur in this version that’s fun to play with. who’s to say what his motivations are? or who’ll get hurt in the process. another pov character so im keeping it short with him as well.

techno is a brujah. okay, okay, hang on i know this one doesn’t make much sense, let me change something: techno is a true brujah. look, there’s no way to confirm or deny in vtm canon if true brujah are even real, but if they are? technoblade is the textbook. the blueprint. brujah are the proud and reckless, the philosopher kings, the original anarchists. techno’s a little special in the sense that, true brujah are a bit more reserved, emphasis more on the philosopher than the kings part. but he’s had a desolate and bloody path as a vampire, before meeting phil and reigning in what little humanity he had left. techno is definitely one of the characters with the least amount of humanity, which probably sounds crazy to anyone who doesn’t know how vtm is played, but rest assured it doesn’t mean he’s an unfeeling and unrelenting monster that’s cutting down people in the streets. techno as a vampire is reserved, he’s learning how to live again, he’s trying his hardest to make fighting NOT apart of who he is. but in wod, that’s a bit of a challenge. he’s also been given a seat of power which isn’t helping his attempts to keep out of conflict. another fun tidbit i’ll mention, as techno is not a pov character like tommy and wilbur, he’s equipped with his voices in this one. and for those of you who know a thing or two about a thing or two, let’s just say he’s tuned into the radio station that hosts the madness network.

phil is a gangrel. and he’s one of my favorite side characters (probably because im a philza minecraft stan deep down). gangrels are the more bestial of the clans, they’re literally in tune with their beast. and besides that, phil has his murder of bloodbonded crows to spy for him all over the city, which is another perk of clan gangrel. he can also turn into a bird. which is either fun or gross depending on who you ask. phil is definitely what i would consider an elder vampire (haha, get it, elder. he’s old) and has been around the block quite a few times. this is what makes him the perfect...mentor character for a lot of the cast, and most importantly noted; techno. phil is the opposite of techno, his humanity is so high that if vampire enlightenment existed he would have reached it (this is another vtm joke, laugh track plays here). this isn’t to say phil’s vtm version is a good person by any means. it has a lot more to do with personal philosophy and convictions than anything else, like i said about gangrel, they really are in tune with their beast and in phil’s case, he only sees this as a good thing. he’s the epitome of being a vampire doesn’t make you a bad person, it just makes you more aware of the horrors one human being can inflict on another. and in a way, he’s kind of right.

im probably not going to edit these paragraphs because they were just something fun for me to do. because i adore this au, but it’s really slow going. a lot of the major players aren’t introduced until the main story kicks off and its going to be awhile before i get to that point lmao. anyways if you read this far, feel free to ask me questions, i dont mind explaining vtm/wod terminology either!

[salenakingston]

Mystery March Day 21 - One of Us

(This is by far the most involved prompt I have done for Mystery March, and so I hope it turned out alright. There will be some more detailed author’s notes at the end of the writing, as there’s no possible way I can fit them all here before it. Just let me express how much of an inspiration you all have been! ENJOY!)

I said, even if I told ya

It all started with an idea, as most every work of art does. Concepts were put in place, branching off from that one base idea. From there, others came together to help get this little project off the ground. Characters were fleshed out, just as the world they lived in where. The team worked hard on everything planned, a true passion project.

When the first video dropped, we were all invested. We fell in love with the characters, story, and music. We couldn’t wait to see more, and despite all the time having to wait, it has always been worth it. Great works take time, and even with a team as dedicated as this one is, they fueled our own passions with previews, updates, character and worldbuilding, merch, and as of the most recent video, a branch into another medium to further tell their story. Their group continued to grow, bringing on more talented individuals, including voice actors.

Fours videos under the belt and one more still to come, they pour their heart and soul into this series, though they are not the only ones who do so. There’s a theory in our world known as the ‘multiverse.’ It is said that all these universes living side by side with one another create everything that exists. Can the same not be said for this team and all the fascinating works of art that came out of this one little series of four videos?

They've been looking for you and only you

It’s a tale of three friends and their dog, all stemming from a terrifying incident inside a cave. One lost their life, one lost their memory, and one lost their arm. What of the last member of their group? He lost his identity. Karma for his trickery would come back to haunt him. Guilt came to consume another, and the last to make it out alive was left wondering what was even going on.

Revenge fueled the one that came back, determined to get back at the one ‘friend’ that managed to cut his life short, and reunite with the love of his life. What started with a chase through a mansion led to the appearance of a tree woman searching for the trickster. The ghost refueled hijacks a truck, gunning down for the familiar van he once drove for all of them.

The woman catches up, shattering the glass wall protecting those in the front seat. The ghost blows the back tire that causes the van to crash. Two encounters branch from this point, one shrouded in the past, and another in the pursuit of revenge. Blonde and blue-haired humans nearly falling at the hands of their captors.

But they survive.

The dog’s true form revealed, the battle commences, blood spilling. As one disintegrates, an opening is left over for a familiar evil to take hold. White became black, demonic nature taking over the once noble being. The three friends left being the ones to bring him free of this grip. What are they to do? It’s all left to be seen...

Darkness is my signal

Not too much is known about this blonde, though despite the change to his physical appearance, there are parts of what defined him that have not changed. He’s had to adjust his lifestyle, but seems to have made the most of his new life. He may have even found some comfort in a bit of an unusual source. Anything to keep him from the self-isolation he seemed content to bring upon himself because of his condition.

So what are you to me, what are we to you?

The cave incident plays out like normal, there is one major change in the timeline of events. The blonde is sent tossed over the cliff along with his best friend, the entity that caused all their problems still trapped inside his body. When the ghost reformed, his anger was washed away at the sight of his friend suffering the same fate, or so he believed. Once free, it was nothing but a rough struggle to hold onto sanity, not just for one of them, but both.

One to keep calm, helping his friend to try and stay lucid.

The other fighting the terrifying entity inside him for control, while changing his body to fit the demon’s needs.

The blonde won, but at what a cost? Green skin covering his body, feet and hands sporting yellow-tinted claws. The posture of his own feet changed, causing him to have to learn how to walk all over again. A tail with a tuft of orange hair, and two large wings attached to his back. Last of course, were the horns on his head, and the blacked out eyes with amber pupils. He was in despair over the turn of events.

At least he had his best friend to help him. He wouldn’t have been able to do this without him. Well, this, and the series of events that came to follow. The two were eventually united with their final friend, but their not-dog wasn’t convinced of the blonde’s mind. It didn’t matter that he didn’t act like a demon, as he still looked like one, accepting the pain brought on him.

Drastic measures were taken to ensure freedom of the ghost, no matter how unnecessary it was. Adjustment takes time, and a good talk was what the four of them needed.

But are you one of us?

Are you one of us?

What seemed like a simple task, well maybe not simple, but one that was plausible spiraled into a long drive across the country in search of a cure for the ghost’s condition. All it took was one ingredient: werewolf blood. Seven weeks after the start of their trip, two were starting to lose hope, the last of their trio determined as always. A blur running across the front of their van was enough to bring their hopes back up, chasing down what looked like a big wolf.

To just miss it. It seemed like another dead end for their search.

Until the blonde was all alone.

The wolf jumped out of the shadows, teeth sinking down into flesh. Were it not for the arrival of the kitsune, who knows what would have happened. The injured one was brought back to his friends, patched up, and taken in for proper treatment. A headache marks the night of the full moon, a night when werewolves are said to be forced to transform. What will happen for them? Most left to the whim of try blue ghosts deemed as blueberries. We shall see where their questions and actions take this new werewolf and his friends.

Tell me, are you one of us?

Said, are you one of us?

Tales of legends are passed down, but come from a place of truth. Those that speak of a king gifted a sword with a beautiful, glowing, purple gem just before the silver of the blade. This is a gift from the Lady of the Lake, and one not to be taken lightly. It comes as a surprise when the weapon turns out to be sentient, and the two not always getting along.

Sometimes the king can be a little harsh on his partner.

And sometimes the sword can refuse to work in situations where his help would be greatly appreciated.

They must learn to work with one another if they hope to overcome the obstacles placed in front of them. The question is can this be done, or will they continue to bicker with one another?

I know that this sounds crazy

An unfortunate case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time causes the members of the separate mystery solving groups to be body swapped with one another. A kid stuck with adult hunters that deal with magic, as well as otherworldly dangers, and an adult stuck with a bunch of kids that seem like they may be in way over their heads. The ultimate goal is for the two groups to come together, and find a way to swap the souls in each body back to their original home.

Easier said than done.

One gets to learn the truth of a horrifying incident, something that tore friends apart, and damaged the people of their group beyond some repair. A kind heart is offered to them despite all this, helping to try and ease the burden even if he has nothing to do with them.

The other sees first hand what kind of trouble a group of kids can get themselves in. His own problems arise, and in typical fashion, does not wish to push them onto anyone he’s been stuck with. It’s a little harder to convince some of this new group of the world he has seen, and learned from; but, if there’s one thing he can do, it’s to still help those around him, and lend a hand when a mystery comes along their way.

Two outsider perspectives looking in, and it’s a matter of what adventures they will have before and after they come together again.

Waiting for this moment, can you see me?

A whirlwind of emotions, pushed only further at the hands of abuse, a blonde is left to flee from his own home to try and preserve himself. He fled through the states, ending up at another corner of the US. His mind might have been broken, but that didn’t stop one person from becoming the most important in his life, nor the three that came to follow from their union. The haunts of old were constantly clinging to him, no matter how careful he was so that none could find him, and even when those fears returned, he never let them get in the way of his family. There was an understanding between them.

But all that fear came crashing back when one single letter was hand passed to him by his former friend’s father.

Even terrified out of his wits, he found the courage to pack up some of his family to return to his old home. The past came back in full force, as well as the reveal of a curse that only seemed to have the power to vanquish. The people that treated him the worst came back to him for help. The same blue-haired girl who’s father delivered the father nearly brought the end of three children with her partner in crime. The wraith that made his life a living hell came back trying to act as if there was something he could do to make up for what he had done.

And the demon that caused all this to happen in the first place was now roaming free...

'Cause I know that you're out there

Almost as if the reset button had been hit, the blonde wakes up thrown into the past, a time when his best friend was still alive, but… it wasn’t the same. The blonde was still the same one from the future, and new friends that his past friends would know nothing about showed themselves. How was he meant to be like his old self when anytime he looked at the purple wearing man, all he saw was the vengeful ghost out for his life?

Events aren’t meant to play out the same way, and they don’t. Despite this, some things can not be changed. The demon still found his way to the same host, though what he chose to do was different. Even with all the chaos, at least the one man didn’t lose his life.

And he gets a front row seat to what his blonde friend had to go through in the future he once came from. It hurt. Emotions still rang high, even if the circumstances are not the same.

This darkness is my signal, come and find me

Sometimes the past can be changed and have one new timeline play out, but what if that same man from the future was now thrown into multiple iterations of the same events, each one spent trying to make it a perfect outcome for all four of them? Well… after a few rounds it didn’t matter if he got to be part of their ending. All that mattered was fixing things for the other three. That was his assigned duty.

Death ended each try, waking the man back up in his bed, whether that be at the hands of someone else, or himself. He just needed more time, plan, and make sure he got it right. He could do it, he was determined to do so.

No matter how much it was tearing him apart.

And when enough was finally enough, it was up to the three left to try and convince him that even with pain, they could continue on with their lives. He didn’t have to keep fighting anymore. He could take an ending that hurt, but one they could heal from, rather than spending so many years trying and trying, all to end with a repeat.

As having to remember all of that hurt.

Are you one of us?

Are you one of us?

What started out as just another night of sleepwalking led the blonde to the steps of a very familiar mansion. Fleeing from an unseen threat caused him to swallow his fear, taking the first step inside. There was no greeting this time, save for the slamming of doors behind him. The only light provided was a light purple of three candles, lifted by the only hand he had. A journey up a flight of stairs and down the hall, coming to a plaque with his name on it.

Entrance strangely granted to him with the twist of a knob from a hand that wasn't there.

The night spent in a bed, waking up to find he had become a prisoner. It seemed death was what would come to him, whether it be at the hands of his former best friend, or by his own. After all, there was a reason his room was on the second floor. Revelations come to light with the appearance of a certain green arm… wearing a familiar, black wristband.

Friendships ruined, for another reason than before. Another friend found searching for him. Both started for selfish means, but it was selflessness that sent him back into the house, even though an evil from the past threatened them once more.

Tell me, are you one of us?

Said, are you one of us?

It’s not everyday that some dive into the past of these character’s lives, but what would happen if one young, scared blonde came across an ancient tree? One that was alive in more ways than one. A strange feeling washed between the two of them, a bond made from the day the blond fled into her woods to hide from the one hunting him. He came to her more than once, and yet every time he did, she sought to rest his soul.

And soon, the tables had turned. Now she was the one in need of rest, though she did not realize it yet until she got the same comfort she once gave to the blonde. His pack adopted her, and he took care of her rot. Names of a powerful thing to these beings, and they knew each other by that power word.

This was not the end of their story. The three friends and dog were reunited, of course the blonde being the one to decide to choose the home where his wooden friend resided. There’s no denying that he was still healing, but he found the courage to try and seek it for himself. The bluenette grew curious about the tree in their backyard, and the final finds an outside source to try and round his curious status.

Are you one of us?

Are you one of us?

The once ghost only turned out to be half deceased, but the hatred still remained. Whether he liked it or not, the blond was at fault; but, he had a plan. One that was sure to fix everything. Find the true cause of their misery, proof that he was just as much a victim.

It was a plan that split their group apart. The dog chose to go with the man on his search, while the bluenette stayed with their half dead friend. The hunt is on, but who’s to tell how the story is to go on from here. Will they each succeed with their goals? We shall see.

Are you one of us?

Said, are you one of us?

The ghost finds himself in the company of others like him. Not ghosts, but skeletons from various worlds. The logistics of how this came to pass is a mystery, though he does not seem to find these details too important. Separated from his ‘friends,’ he finds new ones in this strange group of individuals. They seem to naturally bounce off one another, though some still have trouble catching the ghost’s triggers to his anger. Thankfully, most situations involving this aren’t left to fester.

Their local hang out at Manny’s place is full of stories, interactions between these liked characters. Some funny, some more serious. Whatever the case may be, even if he’s not in the same place as most other ghosts like him, he’s found a place where he can fit in.

Are you one of us?

Are you one of us?

A prince and a noble of green came together, an unholy union that was meant to lead to a prosperous life. Perhaps, but only for one half of that pair. Concerns were dismissed, comfort was sought by an evil man from the one he supposedly loved, and the other tried to find what little comfort there was in his constricting hold. It took the support of two outside his kingdom, and two strangers that wormed into his life to stand up to the terror in his life.

And yet… even with their help… and his desire to lend his help in return…

It wasn’t enough.

A life ended, but the king came back. He was not about to give up on the kingdom he always poured his heart and soul into. Years he seemed to be alone, though one by one, four beings came into his company. He still had those that aided him in life, but now he had more to add to his family. A pink rabbit, golem, a purple imp, and a dark girl with a skull marking. Each had their own story, and a place with him.

And he would see to their safety as much as anyone else in his kingdom.

Tell me, are you one of us?

Said, are you one of us?

Some characters are unique to the world, not all always branching off the main four. Of course, that doesn’t mean there aren’t some made with connections to them in mind. Each is special, and built with as much care as anyone else…

Whether it be a cousin to the blonde, gray with orange highlights rather than the way around, a darker aesthetic, but still similar style to his cousin. A tattoo pattern along his left arm.

A green haired ghost, one met when the group of friends were out together. Something seemed about ready to suck her inside, the ghost reaching out to save her. She seemed to stick with them since.

A young woman dressed in red, blue, and brown. Golden pearls hang from her neck, and a black shawl wrapped around one shoulder. A brown cat accompanying her and group at times, and one that seems to have a power of her own hidden just underneath. 

Are you one of us?

Some characters branching off the core four, and even some of those that were created as their own entity for this series chose to build their stories and characters with one another. Their worlds cross over to one another, relationships naturally build, and so too do the special elements and plots to separate them from one another. Each one of them is equally unique.

Whether it be from the multitude of different colored ghosts, each of them centered around their own story and emotions.

A blue-haired girl with one strand that is lighter than the other. A snowflake twinkled in her left eye, and a roller derby team she has been dedicated to for years counting on her.

The same mechanic, though with more visible scars to the incident in the cave. So much love and care to give, even to those in other worlds, even if the gray faes take a little too much pleasure in bringing him grief.

A black robed king, living far beyond the grave, glowing locks of hair flowing through the air. He’s been seen before, but this one on another plane, a chance to interact with others outside his grown family.

Are you one of us?

Are you one of us?

This amazing group of people, as well as many others come together over a series we all love and cherish. We create our own works of art, but not without credit to the original source. From this point and on, we only seem to grow as a collective, continuing to create as we wait, and surely even after the series comes to a close, it will hold a special place in our hearts. So long as we are all here, we shall continue to spread our joy over mystery skulls animated, supporting one another, no matter how small or big someone may be.

We extend our open arms to one another, and to those new to this fandom...

“Said, are you one of us?”

-----

(Author’s Notes: Seriously, this fandom has been an amazing inspiration, and I’m so happy to be able to take part in Mystery March. There was no other good prompt to really do this for, and I thought this would be a clever way to give tribute to the many amazing people and ideas/stories they have come up with. I tried to keep things short and vague for some, as there are some things I don’t want to give away, so you can check them out if you haven’t. I know there’s no possible way I could get everyone, but I tried to get as many as I’ve fallen in love with and not repeat anyone twice (even though I think I broke that rule twice). Again, thank you all so much, and I hope you enjoyed this.

Credits: (In order of appearance)

@mysterybensmysteryblog, @heilos, @artsyfeathersartsyblog, and the rest of the amazing team!

@lottafandoms (Vampire Arthur)

@ectoimp (Demon!Arthur) / @providentially-demonic (The Devil and the Dead Fic)

@askmysteryskullswerewolfarthur (Werewolf Arthur)

@heilos (King Arthur)

@phantoms-lair (Mirror’s Gaze Fic)

@braveskyered (Knights Fic)

@pi-cat000 (Time Travel Idea Fic)

@thefandomcassandra (The Future Fic)

@tyigra (House of Strays Fic)

@hecallsmehischild (Rest Nestling/Explain it like I’m a Tree Fics)

@neversleepagainau 

@atomi-cat (Boneheads)

@ask-twoyearsafter / @kanaiekla (The Cruel Irony of a Prophetic Love Fic)

OC’s: @nerv0usm3chanic (Lucan), @binaconfusa (Frog), @lauritanaomystery (Laurel)

RP Blogs: @splatterlewis, @lamentinglewis, @frenzys-furnace, @bluescarfvivi, @punsandfuturekingsmen, @diviinc​)

[tomurasprincess]

Wraith’s Touch (Yandere Ghost Shigaraki x Reader)

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

~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...you don’t see him?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not feeling so good, are we?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~ 

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

[shes-ghostface]

Which killers do you think would be best friends within the entities realm? 😇

This ask made my heart happy because it made me think of all the killers being precious little beans with each other 😂

Hmm, honestly some are hard to guess but I have some idea of who would be really good friends!

Ghostface and every Legion member, of course! The Legion are huge fans of the Scream movies and have read about Danny’s antics in the newspaper, they look up to him, and let’s be honest Danny will LOVE that ego boost. But he’ll also love the four of those little buggers just as much, they are all very similar when it comes to messing around and being edgy. Plus it makes Danny feel in charge, or like their big brother so to speak. They would share music tastes with one another and talk about how fast they injured all survivors with their frenzy, and laugh about Danny being able to sneak up and pull them off of gens.

The Nurse and Huntress, I just feel like Sally would be like the mother Anna missed out on for a large portion of her life, and Anna would step on anyone who tried to mess with Sally. They would have more of a family bond than a friendly one, and I know for a fact Sally would tend to any wounds Anna got as soon as she got back from trials.

The Wraith and The Blight, it’s a strange one but I feel like these two could understand one another the most as they didn’t really mean to do anything bad but still ended up in the realm. They both can’t speak but have made their own little signs/motions and body movements to communicate. Plus they are both adorable.

The Trapper and Amanda, I mean they both LOVE traps.. they would just spend all day talking about how brutal their traps are and laugh at how the survivors ended up messing up their loops and getting caught in Evan’s traps, and also how they didn’t have enough time to get Amanda’s trap off of their heads and just lifelessly flopped to the floor.

The Twins and Bubba, I feel like these three are very family oriented and that they would see each other as siblings. Bubba would let Victor play with his chainsaw and help him to hold it and Charlotte would watch closely and nervously, just incase anything went wrong.. Victor literally loves getting piggybacks from Bubba whilst he runs around revving his chainsaw.

The Doctor and The Demogorgon, I think Herman would be really intrigued to look into the Demogorgons past realm in the upside down and would like to study him biologically and of course, Herman would want to open the god damn gate again because, well because he’s Herman. And of course the Demogorgon would be all for it and kinda like having a crazy man as his ‘owner’.

The Plague and The Hag, I feel these two would get along really well. Adiris knows what it’s like to have your body change dramatically and not for the better due to the plague and Lisa would feel more understood and accepted around her. I can imagine Lisa showing Adiris her traps and popping up everywhere to make her smile. And Adiris would most probably just throw up on other killers to make Lisa laugh.

Michael Myers and literally no one, he hates everyone and if any of the other killers tried to speak to him he would stab them as a warning.

Pyramid Head and Oni, I feel like these two would get on very well as they’re both otherworldly beings. They would speak about their crazy strength and challenge one another to lift and swing each other’s weapons and do little duels. Kazan definitely doesn’t take shit and Pyramid Head is literally the king of judgement and executions, these are the power besties.. if you mess with one you will die by the others hand. I think they would just laugh and joke about how many survivors they demolished in trials, especially because of how easy it was. Plus they’re both buff, beefy boys.

Freddy and himself, he doesn’t like anyone aside from his damn self and even if he wanted to be friends with anyone else, he fucks with every single killer too much and constantly pushes their buttons so he would just end up in constant brawls. (Which happens anyway).

The Spirit and The Hillbilly, these two both know what it’s like to be betrayed by family. Rin always makes Max feel accepted and laugh by making her limbs float around and phasing everywhere to mess with the other killers. Max let’s Rin talk about her problems and if she gets too upset he does his loud growl and runs around revving his chainsaw to make her smile. No one in the realm understands what they have been through but them and they are the sweetest besties.

The Clown and Deathslinger, these two hate everyone aside from each other. They are both very similar when it comes to attitudes towards survivors and other killers. They often speak about how good it would be to go into trials together as Jeffrey’s bottles could slow the survivors down, whilst Caleb aims and shoots to drag them back towards them. Jeffrey plays with the fingers he’s collected overtime a lot and Caleb does find it a little strange but he shrugs it off and carries on cleaning his gun, he’s seen worse.

I hope you like these ideas! Of course they aren’t real and some will disagree but it’s so nice to think the killers all have their own besties, and the other two are happy by themselves 😂

[animecinnamonroll99]

Octane x FEM!Reader 4

Master List

(LE/N) is Legends name. comment Ideas for the character's ability or if I should just let you guys pick your abilities. The comment I chose to use will be tagged in the part with the next fight. '...' is thoughts corozoncita- is little heart

I offered my hand out to the speed demon and blushed softly as he placed it in the crook of his elbow, pulling me close to his side. “Tavi, what does that saying mean. The one that you said right before the… ya know.” My cheeks heat up at the slightest mention of the kiss. I turned my head to the side so that he wouldn’t see it. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” My head whips to my right so that I could look at him. “The me curo thing.” I persist only for him to shrug at me, pretending to not know. We make it back to the other legends who ask how I was doing. I wave them off and proceed to ask about seating arrangements as we approach the curved bench of seats. They all point Octane and I to the last two seats to the left. Octane told me to take the second to last just in case a fan or reporter decided to pull a stunt like that again. As I settle down, Makoa sits himself to my right and across from me sat my three girl friends all smirking and making faces at me. Groaning I let my head fall forward onto the table. “You alright brudda?” I turn my head to face Makoa who looks concerned for me. “Yeah, just the girls making slight fun at me…” I trail off and point to the jittery man on my other side. The male I’m talking to seems to understand what I was insinuating. “Not a bad choice.” I sat up and kept my head on my talking partner so the now quiet Tavi couldn’t see my red face. The sound of chatter got louder as I realized that they were letting people into the room with us. “Everyone sit and quiet down.” The main reporter for this conference spoke up. Once everyone was seated and quiet he called me and my teammates from the game forward. “Any questions for the champion squad to start with.” “Are (LE/N) and Octane dating?” a reporter spits out before anyone can get the chance. I freeze looking at the mentioned legend out of the corner of my eye before he said “We will not comment on that at the time being.” Another reporter looks at me “Do you like Octane?” At the question I stopped functioning all together, before he placed a hand on my shoulder to calm me down. “No questions about that topic.” The voice he used sounded so calm, but I could feel the hidden feelings of hurt. As I was led back to my seat the questions turned into general ones for everyone. “Do you have a crush on another legend and if so, who?” was asked for everyone to answer. Wraith answered was Mirage, Wattson said Crypto and Bangalore happened to surprise everyone with her crush on Loba. As it got closer to me I took a deep breath and mentally rehearsed my answer. “(LE/N)” looking down at the mic set in front of me I take another deep breath “Yes, I do, but I’m too much of a coward to admit who he is.” when they called on octane for his answer he said “Yes, but she doesn’t like me so it doesn’t matter.” After that I tuned out everything and just sat there for the rest of the conference. Fans got the chance to walk around the group getting pictures and signatures from the legends as they went. I kept my eyes on where my friends were sitting and saw my number one fan in front of them and they were all whispering. A few minutes later and she was right in front of me smiling. She offered a picture of me and Octane, we were mid air. I was slung over his shoulder with a triple take in my hands sniping another team. It was a duos match, I can remember it clearly. *FLASH BACK* We were in the top five, Gibs and a grunt following behind us into the ring and Rampart with Horizon in front of us. Octane had thrown down a jump pad and told me that It might sound crazy but while we were mid air to snipe Gibraltar and his teammate. We ultimately died after landing, but the thrill of the stunt was enough to make him laugh and for me to fall further in love with him. *END FLASH BACK* Taking the photo I sign it and winked at her. “Can I get a picture with you and Octane?” she questioned. We agreed to it and she tucked herself into the right of me, so that I was stuck between her and the speedster. She snapped the photo and as she moved away to check it she said “Aww you two would make a cute couple,” her comment had me glancing at him only to see his head turned to me and with his mask on I couldn’t tell what his face looked like. I stumbled over my words and stuttered as I thanked her and got her to move on. Another fan occupied my attention before I could listen into their conversation. For the rest of the hour it's all I could think about. 'Does everyone think that we would make a cute couple?' A hand on my shoulder and a “Come on corozoncita. It’s time to party.” With Makoa’s booming voice in the background calling me to join, I let Tavi pull me up and lead me back to the limo so we could go to the bar.

[thecagedsong]

Forgotten Light: Chapter 11: Bonding

A/N Eight days until doomsday for me. Enjoy this. Mostly character building. Probably longer than it should be, but I think this is the most time they spend together the whole story. It had to happen somewhere. 

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11

Chapter 11: Bonding

 Kendra woke to someone picking her up gently.

“Shh, you fell asleep. I’m just taking you to your bed so you don’t wake up sore.” Ronodin said as she blinked her eyes open. She was cradled securely in his arms. 

“No, I can walk,” Kendra insisted, starting to wiggle free.

“You’re so stubborn, just go back to sleep,” he encouraged gripping her tighter.

“Put me down,” she demanded.

Ronodin smiled cheekily, “What if I like holding my fiancée? Putting her down sounds like a favor.”

Kendra flushed and folded her arms, looking away from him. As much as she didn’t want to be carried, she didn’t want any part of Ronodin’s favors either. She wanted to protest more, but there wasn’t a point, he was too strong and wasn’t letting go of her.

Unless…Kendra rapidly unclenched the mental fist she had over her brightness. Ronodin stumbled and dropped her on her rump.

“You did that to yourself,” Ronodin said.

“I would have been standing on my own if someone had let me go when I asked,” she said, standing up and stretching. “Good thing I put carpets in this place.” Because it was impolite to blind people, she dimmed her light once again, pulling back the showcase of her magic. She felt a pang inside, like a muscle that didn’t want to flex, but she did it anyway, and the feeling disappeared.

“I’m guessing you don’t feel tired anymore?”

Kendra shook her head, “That was a good wakeup call. How did your errand go?”

“It went —what is that thing you’re wearing?” he asked. The look of horror she had been imagining was better than she imagined. His nose scrunched!

“I don’t like my wardrobe,” she declared, “I wanted to be more covered up and add a bit of color. Do you like it?”

He went deadpan, “So, I’m guessing your sewing skills were forgotten along with everything else.”

“Yep,” she said, leading the way to the kitchen, “So now you have to take me shopping. In fact, I’ve decided you aren’t leaving again without me. I tried to draw the outside today, and I couldn’t. I haven’t seen the sky, or the sun, or the ocean, or the stars in my entire life. That needs to change, now.”

“All I hear is another favor,” he teased.

“Ronodin,” she warned, looking over her shoulder.

“Then I guess we’re just going to have to stay put a little longer.”

Kendra turned at the kitchen doorway and folded her arms, “Leaving this place is only a favor if I’m a prisoner. I know you’re trying to protect me, but I refuse to believe that out of everywhere in the world I could have hidden, I chose the one place that I would never breath fresh air.”

Ronodin studied her before sighing and massaging his forehead, “I wasn’t going to tell you this, but I couldn’t do what our host wanted. Your brother got in the way. He’s tracking me, trying to find you. I must have let too much of our relationship slip after you lost your memory. Out of everyone in your family, he’s the only one blaming me for your kidnapping. The rest are blaming your family’s usual enemies: dragons, sphinxes, and demons. It’s not only dangerous for you to go out, but I’m going to have to lay low for a while as well.”

“I’m not budging on this,” Kendra said forcing her chin up. “You will not leave me trapped in here again. It’s a prison cell, a nice one, but you said we bonded over the fact that my family was imprisoning innocent creatures. Why am I different than them?”

“It isn’t a prison,” Ronodin said, “For two reasons. One, you volunteered to come here. Two, it’s temporary. Like…quarantine. You just need to be kept apart from the world for a little while, and then you’ll get released and everything will be fine.”

“And when will the quarantine be over?” she asked.

“I’m working on faking your death,” Ronodin admitted, “Once we’re sure everyone believes you’re dead, we’ll be able to get out of here,” he snapped his fingers, “An idea. I’ll negotiate with you. We can also go out, once you craft an item strong enough to protect yourself.”

That reminded her. Her hand went to her neck, but she only felt the ruby pendant. She pulled the amulet forward, where it had fallen down her back.

“Like this?” Kendra asked. “I looked through the books for something protection based, but the closest thing was making your enemies weaken so you can escape.”

Ronodin took it into his hand, “Hmm, it’s very beginner. You really are back to the start. It’s a good start, certainly better than that nonsense sweater you’re wearing. Make something with this effect, but a hundred times stronger, and we can go anywhere you like.”

“Great,” she grumbled, taking the amulet back, then taking it off and tossing it on the counter. “It’s not doing anything, why bother?”

“It’s not doing anything because I’m not your enemy,” Ronodin teased. “You keyed it into those who wish to harm you in the immediate vicinity. That’s an extremely vague idea of enemies.”

“How should I define enemies?” Kendra asked.

Ronodin smiled, “Anyone who prevents you from achieving your goal.”

“And if my goal is to go outside?”

His smiled turned sharper, somehow more genuine and far more dangerous, “Make something you can wear that will disable me, then we can talk.”

“Break the kneecaps, got it.”

Ronodin laughed. Kendra glared.

“Keep laughing like that and I won’t wait to create a magical object to do it for me,” she threatened. “You literally asked for it.”

“No, it’s nothing,” Ronodin gave a half smile, “But we really are back to square one. It seems you really do use threats of violence as flirting at the start of every courtship.”

“Must be difficult for you, since as far as I know, that’s also how I start off all relationships with my mortal enemies,” she said, getting up and making tea. He was being ridiculous again, the only thing to do was walk away.

“You are quite the trial,” Ronodin said, quietly, and her ears strained to pick it up, “But worth every second of it.”

When the kettle rang, he got up and made his own tea. On the one hand, she was glad he didn’t expect her to serve him, on the other hand, the kitchen was small. They kept brushing hands and sides, and there wasn’t really anything Kendra could do. His hands settled on her hips to move her aside, and she jumped.

“Just getting the honey,” he said innocently. She glared, and he held up his hands, “I’m done messing with you for now. I saw you were reading a different book in the library, what was this one about?”

“Well, the library is rather limited,” Kendra said, settling back with her tea. “I can’t read most of the books. But while the first one was about the Fair Folk, this one is an autobiography of a woman hiding her life as a shadow charmer from her husband and children. I only got through the first couple of chapters, where she destroys wraiths with sea salt, removes the cursed talisman poisoning their village’s water, and a demon inducts her as a shadow charmer.”

“Lady Kuychia,” Ronodin said, nodding, “She convinced a High Fairy to enchant that amulet you’re wearing so that her husband could have protection while she was still learning her skills.”

“Shhush!” she said, “Don’t spoil anything.”

He then talked to her about some of her old favorite books she had forgotten to pack, and pointed out that it was Lady Kuychia’s family portrait that hung over the library fireplace.

Despite enjoying the company, she started to grow tired again.

“You better head to your room if you really don’t want me to carry you,” Ronodin said, picking up her teacup and taking it to the sink.

Kendra nodded and went to her room, motioning for Mendigo to follow her.

“Mendigo,” Kendra said, once she was in the silk robe she apparently liked to sleep in, “Don’t let Ronodin leave out the front door. Stop him and hold him until I get there. I meant it when I said I wasn’t going to be part of a cage anymore.”

Mendigo nodded.

“Go stand guard by the front door, the one I tried to have you open earlier today.”

Mendigo left, and Kendra sighed into her pillow. It wasn’t hard to understand what Old Kendra liked about Ronodin. Absolutely gorgeous, an edge of excitement, intelligence, and he’s crazy about her. But he was missing a lot of things too, respect for personal boundaries being the top of the list. Did she keep trying to find what Old Kendra had loved about him? Reclaim that part of her life that Old Kendra had valued beyond even her family?

There was a shout and some grumbling from Ronodin’s room. Wrapping herself tightly in her blanket, she pulled it free and went to her door, opening it and grinning at the irritated unicorn outside her door.

“Really hilarious,” Ronodin grumbled. He relaxed at her grin, “aside from the surprise psychic insanity attack, this was actually really well made. And pretty powerful. You might be closer to creating something to protect yourself than I thought.”

“I was pretty angry at everything when I painted it,” Kendra said, “Like I said, you aren’t allowed to leave me alone here again. I thought having this in your room would be a good reminder.”

“Not if I want to sleep without having an existential crisis and accompanying panic attack,” he said drily. “It’s covered now, and hidden. I wish you wouldn’t take it out on me when you’re the one that set it up this way.”

Kendra felt the familiar pang of guilt. She hadn’t thought the painting was that powerful. Ronodin seemed so good at magic, and she wasn’t even sure it worked. Panic attacks were serious and something she shouldn’t wish on anyone, much less her former fiancée trying to make the best of a terrible situation.

“Sorry,” she said, “I guess that was a little uncalled for. It didn’t seem that powerful to me. Why do you think I’m so much better at painting than the other things I used to craft?”

Ronodin shrugged, “Painting is a little more straightforward. You don’t have to worry about needles or knives, you were probably just able to focus better on the magic aspect than you were on your other projects. We’ll paint something together tomorrow. And you can give sewing and whittling another shot. Is there a reason Mendigo is at the front door?”

“Um, I told him to make sure no one bothered me in the night,” Kendra lied, “I guess he took that to mean guard the front door.”

“You’re lying,” Ronodin stated. “Want to try again?”

Kendra huffed, “Fine, I meant it when I said you aren’t leaving here without me again. He won’t let you leave without me, so don’t bother thinking about it.”

“Kendra,” Ronodin said, groaning, “If our host calls for me, I have to go.”

“Then I’ll go with you.”

“He doesn’t want to see you,” Ronodin shot back.

“Why not? I was fine when we negotiated this place, right?”

Ronodin shook his head, “Even when you dim yourself, your light is way to bright for him. He will either swallow your light, or you’ll make him angry. Call your puppet off.”

“No,” she said. “If I’m going to be a prisoner, so are you. I’ll wait outside the door or whatever, but I’m sick of being trapped.”

Ronodin’s face went blank, there was nothing in his eyes as he looked at her, mouth still, and Kendra drew back half a step. Ronodin took a deep breath and motion returned to his face, leaving Kendra unsure what she had just seen. “We’re both tired, and I don’t plan on being called away for a while yet. We will talk about this more later. Goodnight.”

Ronodin leaned forward, and Kendra hiked her blankets up over her mouth, glaring.

His lips pressed gently to her forehead, lingering, as she glared at him. Ronodin stepped back.

“Goodnight, my little caterpillar,” he teased, then walked back to his room.

Did other people with amnesia have this confusing a time with their boyfriends? How long before Ronodin gave up on her? Looking in the mirror, even with the sexy clothes, Kendra knew she wasn’t anywhere near the same league as Ronodin in the looks department. Did she want Ronodin to give up on her? From the sound of it, her family wanted her back, and her brother seemed like a pretty cool kid.

What did she owe a past she couldn’t remember?

The questions circled her mind like fluttering butterflies until she fell asleep.

 “Okay, so what do you want to paint?” Ronodin asked.

“We can’t peek outside so I can figure out what the sky looks like?” Kendra checked. They were standing in front of their easels in the craft room.

Ronodin shook his head, “We’re laying low for the moment. We can visit a grotto after lunch, but that’s still enclosed in a cave.”

“Wait, really?” Kendra asked, beaming.

Ronodin nodded, “I’ve been thinking about it, and I think I can convince our host to let us out that far, and we’ll still be on their property, so your family won’t find us. If that’s what it takes for you to get your puppet to stand down, then we’ll do it.”

Kendra pounced on him with a hug, surprising both of them. She let go just as quickly, blushing, “Uh, thanks. Don’t read into that. I just really want to get out of here.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Ronodin said with a smirk, “How about I paint an outside landscape? I remember what your home looks like. Then at least it will be a full picture for you to put together for your next painting.”

“I’d really like that,” Kendra said. “If you’re painting something for me, how about I paint something for you? An apology for the panic attack.”

“You are being quite generous this morning, dream of anything good?” Ronodin asked, getting in her face again. “Because if we’re taking requests, and you’re firm on only being able to paint things you’ve already seen. I want you to paint us.”

“Us?” Kendra asked, eyebrows drawing together.

Ronodin nodded, taking her hand still holding the pencil. Kendra tried not to wince. Even through her protective amulet, his hands still felt cold. She wanted to pull it back, but she was trying to be nice.

“How you see me, how you see yourself,” Ronodin said, “Paint it.”

“I’ll try,” she said doubtfully. She tried to tug her hand free, but he wouldn’t let it go, “Any requests on what effect or emotion I should try to work into it?” If she had to be able to create something strong enough to protect herself, it looked like her best bet would be painting the biggest ‘do not bother me’ spell she could on the back of a jacket. Which meant she had to get good.

He pulled her hand towards his mouth, and when he spoke, his lips brushed the backs of her fingers. “Uncontrollable lust.”

“What!” she yelled, yanking her hand back.

He laughed, “Poor, innocent caterpillar.”

“That’s it, you missed your chance,” Kendra said, turning her back on him, “I’m painting Mendigo, and this painting is going to fill the viewer with the insatiable desire to strangle unicorns named Ronodin.”

She already had her magic flowing into her pencil. Threading? It was kind of like threading a needle, and drawing it through the work, and she could thicken the thread with concentration.

“Can’t wait,” Ronodin said, putting his own pencil to canvas. It didn’t feel as satisfying, knowing he approved of her project. The desire to kill seemed a little extreme anyway, and she flinched away from it remembering her actual almost murder of her kinda boyfriend. Irritation with Ronodin it was then.

She started to sketch Mendigo, but ran into the issue of creation/affect dichotomy that the book warned her about. Looking at Mendigo wouldn’t inspire anyone to be irritated with Ronodin. Glancing sideways, she decided to stick to irritation, but she would have to paint him. Half body, because with the robe it was just more interesting to be able to focus on his face and torso. Arms folded, because hands were hard to draw.

“How about some music?” Ronodin offered. “Anything you’d like?”

She focused on her canvas, “I have literally never heard music before. Play anything.”

“Very well,” he said, pulling out a cell phone. Kendra first heard the click of a camera going off, and decided against saying something. If he wanted a picture, maybe they could print it out and hang it, add a little more personality to the room. A moment later, piano notes filled the air, something a little frenzied, and the violin joined in. She didn’t dislike it, but as the first song she ever heard, she didn’t have much to compare it to.

Threading her magic through her pencil, she drew the outlines she wanted. His know-it-all smirk, perfect hair, eyes. Was it weird to use unicorn blood for the eyes and teeth? It might be his own.

No, she had to focus, she had to get good at this. The black of his robe was the hardest part, and she ended up mixing it with reds and blues to get the full effect of how Kendra saw him. His skin tone was also difficult to mix with the limited colors, but she did it. Using one of her whittling knives, she made a pretty cool effect for the scar over his eyebrow.

Surprisingly, Ronodin stayed quiet the whole time. He didn’t tease her or try to mess with her. When she had to step back to let a layer dry, or go to the bathroom, he just smirked at her. Her eyes would drift to him for reference, and he would occasionally strike a pose, but he never said anything.

Maybe this was how they had bonded the first time, painting quietly to music. It didn’t help too much in this case because she painted with a thousand irritations in her brush, but if they were ever able to do this outside her prison cell, in the open air, it would probably be a different experience. Maybe next time she could try for companionship when she painted.

She thought she’d like that painting a lot more. Luckily, irritation with her lack of skill and being stuck with only negative emotions helped feed into the current project.

By the end, it wasn’t perfect, or even particularly good. People were hard, but she liked it.  His smug smile said ‘kill me’, enough for her.

“You ready for the great reveal?” Ronodin asked, turning off the music.

“Sure,” Kendra said, “You probably figured it out, but it’s a lot easier to want to kill you while looking at your stupid face.” She took her canvas and showed it to him.

Ronodin scrutinized himself through her painting. “My ears look a little misshapen, and all I’m sensing is vague irritation with myself. Have a problem with killing intent?”

“Despite various actions to the contrary,” Kendra said, “I don’t actually want to kill you. So yeah, irritation. Can I see yours now?”

“It’s not my best work,” he said, picking up his own canvas, “You wouldn’t believe how long it’s been since I painted,” so that means they didn’t bond over painting, “but I hope this helps you put together what outside looks like.”

He turned it over and showed her a castle rising above a forest. The sky was a heart wrenching blue, and there had to be forty different shades of green in the trees. A couple of deer with wings glided over the treetops, beneath a sun that was paler than she imagined, its light fell gently. Two clouds gave variety to the sky, and the castle was done in blacks and grays that blended so well together, she couldn’t begin figuring out the shades. The stones and towers, the gate, and just barely she could make out a road that vanished under distant trees, horses racing across it. Two mountains rose in the distance, and a ravine far to the right.

“It’s beautiful,” she said reverently, going closer to the picture. “It’s absolutely beautiful. You’re amazing.”

“Yes, well, I try,” he said. Kendra looked, and he seemed flustered for a moment, then smirked, “I take it you like my gift?”

“A real gift this time?” Kendra asked dubiously.

She was expecting it, and was able to turn her cheek at the last moment as he pulled her close.

He pulled back, “Never.” And let her go.

“Try again after I’m out of this prison.”

“Quarantine,” he corrected.

“What am I infected with?” Kendra countered.

He shook his head, “We’re doing this so you don’t loose the self you found and were so proud of.”

Kendra didn’t know what to say to that.

Sorry I’m not me enough for you at the moment?

I’m sure I’ll be myself again eventually, don’t give up.

The only version of me I care about is the one that gets to sit in the sunlight.

She kept staring at the castle instead, her former home. The place where the other Kendra first became the person Ronodin loved.

Quietly, she asked, “I can really keep this?”

“Of course, Love,” Ronodin said, “I even left out the caged dragons for you, so you can remember the good parts more than the bad.”

Her head swiveled towards him, “This isn’t what it actually looks like?”

He blinked, “No, that’s what it looks like. But Dragons are a pain to draw, and most of them stay out of that particular direction anyway. They generally don’t like to be near the keep, nor the giant’s mountain behind it. I was just joking.”

“Oh,” she said, “That’s…okay. Mind if I take it to my room?”

“Be sure to let it finish drying,” Ronodin said, stepping aside.

Kendra hesitated at the door, “I’m not the Kendra you know. I don’t know how to be that Kendra. Are you sure it wouldn’t be better to just drop me off back home so I can figure things out from the beginning?”

“This is a beginning of sorts,” Ronodin mused. “But I know the truth of you. I know how confused you are right now, and how much trust you are putting in me. I am deeply aware of that.” He said. The sheer intensity of his gaze made her blush. “The day you understand truth of who you are in your bones, and who I am, that day will change everything. That day is worth waiting for. You are worth waiting for, whether you become exactly the woman I remember or not.”

Kendra blushed and fled. She went to her room, put the landscape against the wall, and put her hands over her flushing cheeks. Smoldering intensity was not a fair superpower! Did all unicorns have that? No, she didn’t really love him yet; he was just distracting! This was desperation, and loneliness, and—and she didn’t even know the names of her parents! She didn’t know what love was. Had she ever been in love before? When you loved someone, was Ronodin what it looked like?

They still had to go the grotto that afternoon.

She pulled back on the clothes she had arrived in, jeans, shirt, and added her poorly made cardigan. Feeling nice and covered up, she made her way to the kitchen for lunch.

“I changed my mind, let’s have lunch in the grotto,” Ronodin said, waving a basket full of sandwiches and chips in her direction as he filled up water bottles, “Remember to keep your light dim.”

Kendra frowned, but it wasn’t like she was going to complain about leaving this place.

He frowned at her, “Those clothes again?”

“You could always take me shopping,” she said, folding her arms. “Or let me use your phone for some online shopping.”

Ronodin chuckled, walking up to her, “Our host doesn’t exactly have a listed address. Come on,” he held out an arm, and Kendra weighed the pros and cons of accepting it. Pro: get out of here faster. Con: Ronodin being a jerk and violating her personal space.

“I’ll be on my best behavior,” Ronodin said, rolling his eyes.

Kendra took his arm, and watched him carefully as they approached the door. Mendigo moved to stop him, but Kendra said, “It’s alright. He’s allowed to leave with me. Watch our stuff, kay.” The puppet snapped back into guard position.

Ronodin took out a key from his pocket. A big, rusty thing, and fit it into the lock at the same time that he said something in language she didn’t understand.

“That’s not fair,” Kendra said as he turned the key. He didn’t respond, just opened the door and led her out into a hallway.

This part of the property was much less polished than her apartment. The stone was rougher, smoothed by time rather than professionally. She also knew instinctively that she would be frozen if it wasn’t for the ruby necklace.  The corridor narrowed and widened randomly, and it was dark.

Of course, she probably could have brightened things by letting her own light shine, but out here it wouldn’t only be rude to Ronodin, it would also be rude to anyone else in the hallway. They passed by one person, who looked extremely gaunt and old, and he still flinched a little at her dim shining.

Ronodin led her up through twisty corridors with lots of forks. She tried to keep track, but would undoubtably be lost within minutes if Ronodin wasn’t here. Kendra started to smell saltwater, and pulled Ronodin along faster.

It was strange. If ten minutes ago you had asked her to describe and know the smell of saltwater, she wouldn’t have been able to. As soon as she smelled it though, it was like that synapse reconnected. Of course that was what saltwater smelled like.

“Watch the brightness,” Ronodin warned, but sped up with her. In her excitement, she had let her control slip. Kendra forced herself to slow down and keep her magic to herself.

They reached a rocky shore, the tide lapping in tiny waves. There was seaweed scattered below the waterline, a drum in the corner, and a bunch of random animal bones.

She put her hand into the water and sighed. Feeling it push and pull against her hand was amazing. Ronodin set up lunch behind her, but she focused on the sensations of right now. The feel of water, the look of the rounded grotto, the…dead fish. And now she had memorized what rotting fish smelled like.

Grossed out, she went back to Ronodin who offered her a napkin to dry her hands and some hand sanitizer. Then he snapped another photo of them on their picnic blanket.

“Why didn’t you set up closer to the drum?” Kendra asked. It looked much flatter and less rocky over there.

“Didn’t want to risk accidentally sounding it,” he said simply. He handed her a sandwich.

“What happens?”

“The sound would summon a dragon that would more than love to eat you.”

“Romantic.”

Ronodin looked amused. “You wanted elsewhere, I got you elsewhere. You’re going to have to be a little clearer when you want me to court you and when you don’t.”

Kendra blushed, “It’s complicated. I don’t know when I want you to court me either. I don’t think I want to be courted right now. There’s still so much I don’t know about myself.”

“Well, let’s find out a little more,” Ronodin said “What would make this romantic?”

Kendra blushed and looked at her food, “I don’t know, I’ve never been courted before. That’s the problem.” She took a bite.

“You knew enough to know that this place isn’t romantic, give it a try,” Ronodin encouraged.

“Give me a second to think then,” she said, then took another bite.

She finished her sandwich half, took a drink, and said. “Well, the rotting fish in the water wasn’t pleasant, that would need to go. So would the animal bones, and the threat of a deadly sea dragon eating me. Umm, fairy lights I guess? Something soft to help light this place. This blanket is okay, but having some pillows set up too would help.”

“Music?” Ronodin asked.

Kendra shook her head, “Not necessarily, the sound of the waves is calming and new. I’d be a little sad to have that drowned out by music. Of course, this place would be immediately topped by anyplace with sunlight. Like a mall.”

“A mall,” Ronodin deadpanned. “Do you even remember what a mall looks like? Secluded grotto beats mall every time, even with dragons and dead fish.”

“But we could buy clothes,” Kendra emphasized. “And knowing what I want and need, and spending time with me? Most romantic thing ever.” She had agreed with Lady Kuychia in that aspect. She thought she did, at least. Everything Kendra agreed with currently was subject to change.

“Noted,” Ronodin said drily. “A bit contradictory, but noted.”

“Prison cells make everything unromantic,” she declared.

“On that,” Ronodin said, “We agree completely. I’m glad that viewpoint hasn’t changed with your memory loss.”

Kendra hesitated, “Was my family really a bunch of jailers?”

Ronodin nodded, “They thought they had their reasons, but the reasons were nonsense and broke down once a reasonably intelligent teenager looked at them. They justified them by saying that the inhabitants were happier in cages than in the mortal world, while the continuous, active rebellion suggested that they aren’t. The prisons protected mortals from dangerous creatures. But mortals have their own protections, and who said that humans should be the ones in charge of everything? They’re doing a terrible job of it.

“And my favorite: keep them locked up because their nature is to harm. Humans have killed more things than all the dragons combined since the prisons were put up. You don’t hate the wolf for eating the deer. You don’t hate the ocean for crumbling the shore. Is the day better than the night? For somethings, like sunbathing and growing plants, but the night is better for seeing stars and sleeping. Not only is it morally wrong to keep sentient things in prison without hope of freedom, it throws the world out of balance.”

Kendra was quiet.

Ronodin looked at her, “Oh, your family isn’t terrible. Your brother is a nuisance, as most brothers are, but he believes he is doing the right thing and goes out of his way to cause as little harm as possible. They all do. It’s what their parents did, and their parents, for a very long time. They are wrong, not bad. Clearly, otherwise you wouldn’t have turned out the way you did.”

“What happens when you open all the prison cells?” Kendra asked. “You said the dragon here would love to eat me. I haven’t done anything at all to it. Could I convince the dragon not to eat me?”

“If you were skilled, and you were clever,” Ronodin said. “And by the Jirbarro’s standards, we did do something wrong: we entered his territory. By entering the hunting ground of a bear, you invite the bear to attack.”

“How many jails are there? Would the whole world become a hunting ground?”

Ronodin shrugged, “Don’t know. But I think it would be interesting and fair to find out.”

Kendra frowned, and was about to say something else, when the water in the grotto started splashing.

“Ah,” Ronodin said. He glanced at Kendra. “Be ready to be skilled and clever.”

“What!”

A dragon rose out of the water. Huge. Impossibly huge. Ridiculously large. Things that size shouldn’t be allowed, some law of biology had to be crying over this creature’s existence. Kendra’s muscles locked into place with fear.

“Ah, Ronodin, have you brought me a snack?” asked the dragon. It was like Kendra was hearing three voices, the dragon’s main voice, a voice that came as though from underwater, and its echo.

“No, just enjoying the scenery,” Ronodin said.

“Oh my,” Jirbarro said, completely ignoring Ronodin, “And such a unique snack too! Slayer of the Demon King, caretaker of wyrmroost, and handmaiden to the fairy queen herself. Rumor has it that she sent Celebrant back to his hole like wyrmling.” The dragon lowered its head to better look at her. “Tell me child, can you speak?”

Kendra focused on the ground infront of the dragon, “Please…back away.” It took will power, but she was able to grind out a single sentence. She was rather proud of it.

Jibarro shook his head, “Barely, and your reputation was growing so well. Eating you will be doing you a service. You can die with your legends, and no one has to know you were speechless.”

“I need her, our host has a special task for her,” Ronodin lied, “No feasting now.”

Kendra tried to pull her magic forward, massage it through her muscles, anything, but nothing worked. Ronodin needed her, he loved her, she wouldn’t make him watch her get eaten by a dragon.

Still her muscles refused to move.

Kendra thought about the picture Ronodin had painted of her childhood home. Thought of her brother. But it was remembering that pale orb that stuck in in her mind. She was not going to die without feeling sunlight.

There was a snap, and all the bindings holding her in place fell apart.

“Excuse me,” she said, “I am nobody’s dinner.”

Their attention riveted on her again.

“Does the kelp speak?” Jibarro asked.

“The human does,” Kendra said, and she let go of the hold she had on her light. She felt better as the grotto brightened to a dim room. “And I would like to request the curtesy of asking me to leave before eating for an imagined slight or because you think it would make yourself more important. We are both intelligent, let’s respect that.”

This time Ronodin’s mouth really did drop open, but she didn’t need to laugh at it, Jibarro was doing it for her.

“Such an entertaining mouse!” Jibarro said. He looked down at Ronodin, “Very well, now that her fear is gone, humans make far too paltry a snack. And as the mouse demands, you should leave before I change my mind. I can’t wait to see what insults she and her brother serve the mighty Celebrant next.”

Ronodin nodded, “We will accept your offer of leave.” Ronodin rolled up everything into the blanket he brought and together they left, hearing the splash of water behind them of Jibarro leaving as well.

Once they were back in the corridor, Kendra collapsed against the wall.

“I see your point,” Ronodin said casually, “The threat of being eaten by a dragon is a downer.”

“What was that?” Kendra asked.

“Dragon fear,” Ronodin said, “All dragons exude it, though some don’t by choice. It gets paired with their general mesmerizing ability, but your status as Fairy Kind protects your mind from that part. The resistance to fear seems to be something you needed to overcome on your own. Congrats are in order, I suppose.”

“He called me a lot of titles,” Kendra said. “How did he know? I don’t even know most of those.”

Ronodin shrugged, “Certain experiences and acts leave marks that those with eyes to see can perceive. You read about the Thrones of Power right?” Kendra nodded, “One of the prisons your family supported was the greater demon prison, Zzyzx. With a powerful sword and a hefty bit of absolute rage, you slew the previous holder of the Demon Crown. I wasn’t invited to that party, my family likely concerned I would side with the demons, but even I can see the mark on you from the experience.”

“I did that?” she asked, standing up. A whole four pages of the book had been devoted to the crowns as the pillars of magic that are virtually unlimited, held in check only by each other. “Wait, would you have sided with the demons?”

Ronodin shrugged, “I would have heard them out, I suppose. I didn’t have a preference one way or another how it turned out. I would have been fine.”

But would the rest of humanity? She didn’t know much about demons, but they seemed worse than the undead. The destruction of the undead seemed predicated on their nature, they have nothing but wanting, so even a sliver of life seems the greatest feast. Created by the weakness of living beings. Demons did it because it was fun, they wanted to, and because of a personal conviction that everyone is terrible and deserves to die if they aren’t strong enough to live. That’s why demons were on the morality triangle, and the undead on the creature triangle.

It was a silent walk back to her apartment.

They entered and Ronodin looked at her. “See what I mean about this place being dangerous? I have connections and favors down here that let me go without harm, but you don’t.” Mendigo was standing beside him.

Kendra thought about it, but that orb of sun stuck fast in her mind. “Yes, it is dangerous, but even with the danger and dead things, it was more than I’ve gotten in my life. Mendigo? My orders stand. Ronodin isn’t allowed to leave without me.”

Ronodin was livid. “Rather than let me go out and secure your freedom, you would trap us both here? Foolish doesn’t begin to cover you. Insane? Senile? Self-destructive? Call off your puppet.”

“No,” Kendra said, raising her chin, “You leave, you take me with you. I’ll do what I have to to stay alive. You said that everyone who got in the way of my goals was my enemy. Being faced with Dragon fear taught me that seeing the sunlight is a more important goal to me than just about anything else.”

The ‘even you’ went unsaid, and she wondered if Ronodin heard it as clearly as she meant it.

Ronodin closed his eyes and breathed. He seemed to be counting, and Kendra waited. He opened his eyes and was much calmer, “You have no idea what it means to have a goal more important than anything else,” he said, “You are acting like a child, but I am going to give us both one more chance to act reasonably. For every time you come with me, I obtain the right to leave by myself twice. Considering how infuriating you are making everything, this is an extremely generous offer.”

Kendra thought it over, “A one to one ratio, and you don’t have to take me above ground. A two-to-one ratio, and you have to take me above ground for it to count.”

“Fine,” he said, “One to one. But I’m tired after dealing with you, so please entertain yourself.”

“Mendigo,” Kendra said, “Ronodin may leave once without me. Come, we’re going to the library.”

She took five steps away, then stopped, “I’m sorry, but while I’m negotiating with the power to stop you from leaving, you’re negotiating with the power to leave me here forever. I can’t risk that.”

“Then maybe you should stop being such a brat, and I’d more inclined not to leave you here forever,” Ronodin said.

Kendra glanced back at him, but he wasn’t looking at her, instead doing something on his phone.

He doesn’t mean that. She made herself think, over and over. If only she believed it. 

[liahswriting]

Lovesick Six and a Murderous Robot Boyfriend

Relationship(s): Revenant/original female character, Wraith/original female character, Mirage/original female character, Bloodhound/original female character, Octane/original female character, Crypto/original female character, Loba/original female character

Words: 8,411

Warnings: None

Summary: The new girl is very pretty and she's got most of the men (and some of the women) pining for her. Problem is, she's got her eyes set on a certain simulacrum.

Pretty girls can fight. Pretty girls can be tough. Pretty girls can be scary and threatening. Just because Gia was pretty didn't mean she didn't belong in the Games. I mean, Loba was almost perfect in every physical way and yet she knew her way around a pistol. Che had a cute face and yet her teams almost always were Champion. And of course Elliott was downright the most handsome man in the Games and yet he could wipe a team if need be. Being attractive didn't mean you were weak. In fact, Gia being attractive gave her an advantage to the game. After all, how could a pretty girl like her be any trouble? You think you're safe because look how cute she is, what is she gonna do to you? And then all of a sudden you're eating dirt because she shoved a wingman up your ass and annihilated you.

Gia's origins are unknown to the rest of the Legends. She showed up one day unexpectedly and won Champion that same afternoon. Her kit and abilities brought a whole new playstyle to the Games: a playstyle that both terrified and intrigued the others. Her enhanced vision gave her every input she needed to weaken your team's defenses. She knew exactly whose health was hanging on by a thread, giving her the ultimate advantage to breaking your team apart and dwindling your numbers until you were way beyond outmatched. The Legends assumed she had some sort of black market enhancement done to her eyes given the fact that they were far from being normal. How she managed to slip through the Apex recruitment with her fiercely white irises was beyond everyone. I mean, come on! The girl's eyes were as white as snow all around! The only color to them was a very faint, needle-thin black line separating her sclera from her iris. Everything else was pure white. Even her pupil. Crypto was already walking on thin ice with his illegal body enhancements. The only reason no one actually paid much attention to it was simply because his modifications didn't directly impact his abilities in the arena. But Gia was a whole other story.

Typically, the Legends expect Silva to dive head first into a fire fight with his stim. Or perhaps they'll see Crypto's drone following them around. And on occasion a team will back out of a fight to heal up and end up running into another team holding a choke point with Wattson's electric fences. All of this was expected. And then Gia came along and now every Legend that wasn't on her team was afraid of her tactical EMP that disabled all enemy primary weapons. You could pin her team down and you think you're gonna win, and then all of a sudden your Devotion stops all functionality and now you have to rely on your Alternator with 20 shots left in the chamber.

As if that wasn't enough of a fright, instead of Makoa's air strike landing on your head or Bloodhound storming up behind you faster than humanly possible, Gia's big trick messed with your mind and your vision. In the blink of an eye, you are no longer able to discern who is teammate and who is enemy. And it's not as simple to just say "Wraith is not on my team. I need to shoot her" because the enemy Wraith you're staring down through a 4x-8x will suddenly appear as your friendly Pathfinder and your friendly Pathfinder will suddenly appear as the enemy Wraith. It was more likely to die via friendly fire than enemy fire when Gia's ultimate activated.

The only reprieve the other Legends got was finding out that she was insanely friendly. Thank god too because no one needed another Dr. Nox or another Revenant on their team. Gia was friendly with everyone she interacted with. Despite her scary demeanor, she got along rather excellently with the other Legends. And that's when most of the trouble started.

It all started off as friendly taunts. Elliott took the first step and made a move on her immediately. After all, she's beautiful, he's beautiful, it only made sense for the two of them to date. They could be the ultimate power couple. Their two beautiful faces displayed up high on the Champion banners. It was a dream. But she politely shut him down. Still, he tried again. And she laughed and played along. "My my, Mr. Witt. Aren't you the massive charmer!" This caught the attention of the daredevil himself and he attempted to get under Elliott's skin by literally sliding by them in the arena and dropping the biggest pickup line she's ever heard. "Aye, amiga. Thanks for brightening up the place with your beautiful face." and then he put a couple bullets in Witt's stomach. Silva's team went down immediately for that stunt and Elliott was able to be picked back up, but his idea worked. Elliott was obviously mad at the green-haired adrenaline junkie after the game for trying to steal "his girl" but it was all in good fun when she turned him down too. Bloodhound soon was seen at her side more often than not. He found her skills fascinating and her air of mystery perfectly matched his own. They had sort of an unspoken bond between them, connected solely on the fact that both of their lives were an enigma. Everyone asked her about herself but she never opened up. When it was just her and Bloodhound, neither one even dared to ask the other about their past. It was comforting being able to sit with someone and not have to worry about prying curiosities. Bloodhound attempted to flirt; there was lots of hand touches and close sitting. Yet she turned him down too.

After that it became an unofficial competition between the three of them to see who could win her over, which lead to a lot of showing off and friendly banter. Elliott would throw pickup line after pickup line at her. Silva did crazy stunts to impress her. Bloodhound brought her tea every morning. And yet nothing ever came of it. Gia would play along every now and again but at the end of the day she made it clear she was just playing. Still didn't stop the men from trying.

And then Loba joined the crowd. And boy oh boy was that a surprise. The chick was into chicks! "Did you clowns ever stop and think that maybe you don't have the right parts she's looking for?" Loba taunted them. But she was right, of course. None of the men asked Gia if she was even straight. But it was still all laughs and good times regardless if she ever found an interest in them. Loba had other ideas in mind. She was thoroughly convinced that Gia was full on gay, looking to get it on with another girl. And Loba believed she was just the girl to get her rocks off. Loba was much more blunt than the men ever were in their affection. That night while all the Legends were winding down with some drinks and enjoying the royalties they made from the recent Game, Loba approached Gia and asked her if she would like to join the seductive thief in a private area away from the loud crowd. When she agreed, the three men that had been pining for her started to believe Loba was right all along. Loba and Gia were gonna do it! Loba was gonna fuck the new girl before they were! As much as Elliott enjoyed the thoughts that put into his mind (and trust me, he enjoyed them a lot), he was upset that all of his attempts had been for naught.

Loba and Gia had disappeared for hours and the three men all huddle together in somber at their ultimate defeat. Elliott poured several rounds of drinks for them in solidarity and they cheered a farewell to their playful challenge. It was Gia 's friendly "What's wrong, boys?" that gathered their attention mid-mope. Silva was just about to tell her of their shallow depression when he spotted Loba stiffly walking up to the bar for another drink with a pout on her face. The thief looked just as pristine as when she and Gia disappeared. Not a single wrinkle in her clothes nor a thread of hair out of place in its braids. So she was wrong!

"Nada, bonita. We're all good here!" he happily told her and shot back what was left of his current drink. "Right, guys?" he nudged them with a big 'ole grin on his face. Neither of them picked up on his hints but they agreed with him anyway. She didn't buy it for one second and got another round for them to put a smile on their faces. A single, friendly peck to each of their cheeks is what really solidified their grins and she walked off, happy to have made them smile. When Loba approached them after Gia walked away, Silva was quick to ask the slumping woman what went on behind closed doors.

"I was wrong." she admitted pitifully. "She turned me down too."

"So the competition is back on?" Elliott questioned and all four of them agreed. And thus their antics continued: Elliott flirted, Silva showed off, Bloodhound gifted things, and Loba seduced. None of it worked in the slightest. But Gia would laugh it off and let her touches linger just that fraction of a second longer that made them all question their sanity. If they were teamed up with her, they'd give her the items she requested. If she was hungry, they got her food. If she was feeling unwell, they took care of her until she was better.

"Like lost puppies." Anita commented to the four of them as she watched them all practically drool at the sight of Gia on the complete opposite end of the room. She seemed unaware of their presence but they knew she knew they were there. She sat with Makoa and Pathfinder, all three of them happily chatting with each other without a care in the world. Makoa's big belly laughs rang in everyone's ears.

"She's totally into me, I can tell." Elliott stated matter-of-factly.

"As if." Loba retorted.

"Did'cha ever think that maybe she got someone already?" Che asked with a smirk. "Some of us got loved ones back home."

"I doubt it, amiga. She would've told us if she did." said Silva.

"Maybe she didn't want to tell you. Seems like she doesn't tell anyone anything about herself. For all you know, she could have a husband, or wife, and several kids back on her home planet." Anita commented. The latter part of her sentence fell on deaf ears as the four love-sick Legends stared in Gia's direction when she laughed at something either Pathfinder or Makoa said. Her laugh was like music to their ears. Anita rolled her eyes towards Che and the other simply shook her head.

"Look at her! She's absolutely gor-gor-gorg... pretty! We're totally comp-compat... made for each other!"

"If we're going off looks alone, surely there are better suitors than you." Loba told Elliott with a smirk.

"Hey now, that's quite rude!"

"Gia is a strong fighter. Our skills are equally matched. Perhaps she's not looking for a superficial partner at all."

"All of you are a hack." Crypto's voice surprised everyone. He stood just off to the side, watching them with a bored expression on his face. Hands in his pockets, as is his usual stance, he eyed all four of them down.

"Come on! Don't try and tell us you don't think she's muy caliente."

"She is very beautiful," Crypto agreed. "and you are very desperate."

"So you are not in any way attracted to her." Loba stated rather than asked. She leaned forward, chin on her knuckles, and pressed him.

"I never said that."

"So you think about her."

"I never said that either."

"Say what you want, but until she tells me to back off I'm not going anywhere."

"And neither am I!" Elliott responded rather quickly -and defensively.

"That makes three of us." said Silva.

"Four."

"Fine. Make it five."

"I can't believe this." Che grumbled.

Gia found Crypto unexpectedly by her side more and more. He was rather reserved and his attempts at flirting were down right embarrassing. She tried not to show pity for him. The poor guy probably hadn't ever touched a boob before. She assumed him like Elliot, Silva, Bloodhound, and Loba and went along with whatever he said. She never asked much from Crypto and he was thankful for that. He had no idea how to woo her. He knew absolutely nothing about her, but who was he to ask her about her past if he wasn't willing to exchange an equal value? She was pretty and she was talented, so he tried to play to those strengths. He complimented her when she dolled up and he praised her when her team won Champion. Very rarely was he ever paired up with her so he often admired her through his scopes. He assumed to himself that he could impress her if he won Champion, so he tried his best to wipe the floor with any enemy teams he came across. More often than not, her team would demolish his so he would side step her if he spotted her. However, whenever Caustic or Revenant were on his team, there was no room for niceties and they went in with guns blazing whether he liked it or not. Caustic would throw his gas traps at them, or Revenant would silence them, and then suddenly both teams were at war with each other.

Just last week, Revenant went charging in at Gia, Bloodhound, and Wattson. He silenced their abilities, giving Revenant an easy target on the blonde girl before she could even defend their position with her electric fences. Wattson went down like a sack of bricks. And then Wraith went charging in on Bloodhound. She managed to break the hunter's shields before Gia came to her teammate's rescue and knocked the voidwalker to the ground with a few well-placed 301 shots. Crypto attempted to help his team by going in with his drone and EMP-ing the two enemies still standing. With their abilities still silenced, Gia was unable to fight back at the same caliber and Revenant took his EVA and pulled the trigger three times in Gia's chest. She collapsed to the ground with her knockdown shield aimed directly at the robot.

"Nothing personal, girlie." he chuckled as he tried to show off and finish her. He got interrupted when Bloodhound came around the corner and shot his hopped-up Wingman into the simulacrum's skull. Revenant went down as well. That left Crypto versus Bloodhound. Crypto was still fully shielded as opposed to Bloodhound. However, Crypto was armed with a 45 while his opponent had a Wingman with a skull-piercer on it. Even if Crypto landed all of his shots, it would only take three from the hunter to fully knock him. And he did indeed get knocked. His gold knockdown shield was the only thing that kept his team from being spawned out of the arena and back onto the dropship. Bloodhound knows Crypto's entire team was down so he was not at all worried about being shot in the back as he picked up both Gia and Wattson. Gia didn't waste any time healing and instead finished off Revenant with a big fucking smile on her beautiful lips.

"It's not personal, Rev." she echoed back at him and followed it up with a knee thrusted into the simulacrum's throat and then a low roundhouse kick to the side of his skull. Revenant disappeared, his banner taking his place. Meanwhile, Bloodhound turned to Crypto and attempted to finish him off as well. The last thing Crypto saw was the hunter's battle axe being thrown at his head. And then he and Wraith were standing next to Revenant on the dropship while the on-ship medics came to tend to their wounds. Crypto ignored them, instead turning all of his focus towards the displays following the remaining teams in the arena. One monitor focused on the general rotation of the arena. Another showcased the team that killed his. Crypto's eyes followed Gia's face on the display. She was quick to heal up and then lead her team towards the ring.

The rest of the game was long-lived. Many teams put up a good fight with each other. Ultimately, the best team had to win and that team was of Lifeline, Octane, and Gibralter. Gia's team came second. As skilled as she was, going against Lifeline was a difficult feat. Especially when Gibralter's shield dome gave the team ample cover for a quick pick-up. Not to mention the fact that Silva was nearly resistant to pain and was able to recover without the use of meds once he was picked up. A good heal will almost always out fight heavy damage. Once all the teams made it back onto the ship, Crypto approached Gia. "Good fight." he simply said. She smiled at him and returned the sentiment with a peck to his cheek. Crypto felt his face grow hot and he heard a snicker beside him. He found Loba, Bloodhound, Silva, and Elliott watching him with dopey smiles. Loba crossed her arms and eyed him in a way that meant she told him so. He ignored them in favor of getting patched up the rest of the way by the ship medics.

"You may have won this time, little girl, but I'd watch my back if I were you." Revenant threatened Gia at the other end of the ship. He bent down to her level and stared right into her eyes. But she didn't shy away from the simulacrum's threatening advances.

"The only thing I'll be watching is a replay of me finishing you." she shot at him. He simply returned her remark with a deep, throaty sound and then he stalked off.

That night, Elliott threw a small after-party at his place. There were drinks aplenty, more food to go around than anyone could think of, and of course the Champion squad. All complete with Silva begging to do some party tricks and doing them anyway regardless of how Elliott responded. Not as if Elliott would say no to his friend anyway. Everyone came out to the party. Even Dr. Nox and Revenant who hardly ever show their faces when not in the arena. Still, they kept to themselves and only participated when coaxed. Well, at least Dr. Nox did. Revenant just stalked everyone as per usual.

Gia tried to make rounds with everyone but it was becoming difficult with five of the Legends begging for her attention. Silva wanted her to watch him light himself on fire. Which he did and she watched on like she promised. "One of these days you're gonna get yourself killed, love." she said to him as she patted down the last of the flames burning away at his shorts.

"As if Death could catch me, chica bonita."

"Promise me you'll live to see tomorrow so we can get lunch."

"Absolutamente!" he grinned from ear to ear and then she walked off to sit and talk with Anita and Che. "She wants me." he said to Elliot. The latter simply rolled his eyes.

"She only said that because she doesn't want to watch you kill yourself tonight."

"She so wants me."

Gia chatted with the two women. Gia congratulated Che on her win today and the medic praised her back with a statement of her skill. "A couple close calls." the woman had said and Gia nodded in agreement.

"A toast to our Champion!" Anita held her glass in the air and the other two women clinked theirs together and took a large gulp of their drinks.

"Let's hang out this week. Go do something fun. My treat, of course as a present for our lovely Champion here." Gia offered the two women.

"I'm in the mood for a nice massage!" chirped said Champion. "It hurts having to carry 'round these children all the time." This made the other two laugh heartedly.

"I swear, some of these kids want to get hurt." commented Anita.

"Sounds an awful lot like those five over there." Gia pointed to the group huddled together and watching her.

"They just tryna impress ya. Problem is they don't know when to quit it."

"I think it's cute."

"Do ya like any of them?" Che asked and Gia sat back and thought about it for a second.

"They're certainly cute. And it's funny watching them flirt. But it's all just fun and games."

"You seeing anybody? They won't stop unless you tell them you're taken." said Anita matter-of-factly. She took another gulp of her drink.

"They don't need to stop. It's nothing serious. No one's getting hurt and I've already told them no so it's not like I'm leading them on. Let them dream a little."

"As long as ya okay with it."

"I am." she responded. "I'm also hungry. Be right back." she told the women and got up to grab some food that was piled up on a table. There was so much food here but she wouldn't be surprised if it all got eaten anyway. There were some hungry Legends here and -she's not going to name names- some of them can absolutely pack it away. Silva didn't count, however, because his metabolism was way faster than normal so it's never a surprise to see the green-haired junkie go up for fourths or even fifths. Gia grabbed a plate and filled it with foods that appealed to her. Nothing fancy but just interesting enough to get doubles of. As she was making her way back to Che and Anita, she spotted Wraith sitting alone and moping. Gia detoured over there and took a seat opposite of the woman.

"You doing okay?" she asked, making Wraith look up at her and force a smile.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"You sure? I didn't hit you too hard out there today, did I?" Gia attempted to lighten to mood. It worked to a degree; Wraith cracked a more genuine smile and gave a short chuckle.

"You got some good shots on me but that was pure luck." she said. "Good game today, by the way."

"You too. Do you wanna talk about what's bothering you? I'm all ears."

"Thanks but I'll be fine. It's nothing serious."

"Come find me if you ever need a shoulder." Gia offered the woman and was gifted a nod with a bigger smile in response. Gia placed a gentle hand against Wraith's cheek. "Smile for me some more. You've got a beautiful smile." she said and then got up and walked away.

"You don't think Wraith's into Gia too, do you?" Elliott asked the group as they all watched the exchange happen between said women. His eyes followed Gia for a moment as she walked away and then focused on the other. Even though Wraith looked away from the room, he could see her blushing furiously. And she tentatively placed a hand against the same cheek Gia did. Oh, she definitely had it bad for her.

"I wouldn't be surprised. I've caught her staring at my ass on more than one occasion." Loba snorted.

"Gia and Wraith aren't seeing each other already, are they?" Crypto asked everyone as if they had any more answers on her love life than he did. As predicted, everyone else shrugged or didn't answer at all. Elliott went back to watching Wraith's behavior. Everything that just happened in the last 10 seconds told him that Wraith hadn't expected Gia to show her that type of affection. If she's blushing that bad from a single touch, then that means Wraith is crushing real hard. She didn't act like that was a normal occurrence between the two of them. As if she could read Elliot's mind, Wraith turned her attention to the group of five that had been watching her. Elliott waved his hand over to her, silently telling her to join them. Wraith did a double take, making sure he was in fact motioning to her and when she realized he was, she made her way over to them.

"Aye, you into Gia?" Silva got right to the point and put Wraith on the spot. She sputtered.

"What? No. What makes you think that?"

"You do not have to lie." Bloodhound calmed her. "She is the reason we're all here." he motioned to the group.

"She's just a friend!" Wraith was quick to defend. "I mean she's pretty and all but nothing would ever be between us."

"So you admit you're into her." Loba accused and Wraith went silent. She blushed again.

"I mean, she's nice. And pretty. And she smells good. But so what."

"Listen, no one's poking fun at you. We all like her." Elliott came to her rescue.

"Yeah and we've got a competition going to see who she likes more!" said Silva.

"Why?"

"Because it's fun! And because we can hit on her without pressuring her to return the favor."

"So she knows you've all placed bets on her?" Wraith assumed questionably making the others stiffen and look to each other.

"Well." Crypto started. "She doesn't know about the competition but she knows we all are attracted to her."

"Isn't that kind of, I don't know, scummy?"

"We're not placing actual bets on her." Loba defended.

"Yeah it's just all bragging rights at the end of the day if one of us wins her over." said Elliott casually.

"Aye, you can get in on this if you want, chica, but we're all just having fun."

Wraith hesitated for a moment to think it over. This was scummy, right? Holding Gia as a prize? Surely she wouldn't appreciate it. But then Wraith looked over to Gia sitting with Che and Anita and noticed how beautiful she looked when she had her hair down. Wraith quickly touched her cheek again.

"What are the rules to this... competition?"

"None really. Try to woo her and, if you do, congrats. You won." said Elliot.

"So, are you in or are you out?" Crypto questioned.

"I'm in."

To say Gia was leading the pack was a bit of an understatement. Everywhere she went, her little lovesick posse was not too far behind. And it seemed to be growing by the day. Given that there were now six of them, it was more likely she was paired up with at least one of them during the Games. And when they were paired up together, it was very obvious they were trying to impress her. If she was ever downed, Wraith would stop whatever she's doing to portal her to safety even if she herself wasn't in a safe position. If she was out of ammo, Elliott dropped several stacks of whatever she needed even if he needed it himself. If she gave an order, Silva would absolutely follow it even if he had already jump padded a mile away. If she wanted the Peacekeeper, Loba would steal it for her. If Crypto found a high-level shield, he'd let her have it. If the team got split, Bloodhound would always follow her in case she ran into another team. And if their third got pinned, well Bloodhound wasn't leaving Gia's side.

Everyone else was starting to notice it more and more and they'd approach her about it. "It doesn't bother me." she'd say. And maybe it truly doesn't. Maybe she likes the constant attention she gets from the lovesick six. It certainly didn't hinder her performance in the arena. However it was becoming a bit annoying not being able to spend much time with anyone else without the group being a hare's breath away. But still she played along, laughed at their jokes, swooned over their flirtatious remarks, cheered them on as they showed off.

The Games continued nonetheless and even more Legends showed up; first there was weapons-expert Ramya Parekh, and then there was scientist Mary Somers, and with Dr. Somers came a new arena. Both of whom were very quick to pick up on the weird dynamic between Gia and six of the other Legends. "They're quite infatuated with you, darling." Dr. Somers had commented on day one of her being there. "Eh, they're all a bit weird." Ramya said nonchalantly.

Also Revenant and Elliott got to take over the games for awhile -again. Everyone hated when Revenant got control of the Games and this time around he's decided to switch it up a little bit. Elliott, on the other hand, took the opportunity to impress Gia. "Look at me! I'm so good they wanted to bring me back! The fans love me!" he said. His pride was short lived because the Apex hosts gave the fans quite the show when new events dropped and Elliott, Silva, Wraith, Bloodhound, and Loba all got makeovers -among other Legends, Gia included. All of them took their new looks on stage in an attempt to make Gia swoon. And as good as they all looked, Gia barely had the time of day to compliment them because Apex was whisking her away left and right to show off her new look. The fans loved her and demanded her attention. There was even a huge party for all of the Legends and multiple press corporations to advertise the new events. It was all just so overwhelming. Gia hated being center stage and the constant swarms of people drained her energy rather quickly. Her only reprieve was when one of her six admirers took all of the attention away from her as they did some sort of stunt to make her smile. It was mostly Silva donning his Octane ego that got the press's attention because who doesn't love to watch a daredevil jump out of the window? Nevertheless, she appreciated the breath of fresh air when the cameras weren't on her. She took the opportunity to hide away near the buffet table.

"Ya doing alright?" Che had asked from beside her, grabbing food for herself.

"I'm fine. Just need a break from all of this."

"Still not used to being a fan favorite, are ya?"

"I'm surprised I'm a favorite at all, to be honest. I know a lot of people like to go for the shiny, new toy but I'm no longer shiny or new. Ramya and Dr. Somers should be getting all of the attention."

"Are ya kidding me? Ya one of the best there is! Ya win more games than ya lose. Of course ya a favorite!" Che attempted to cheer her up.

"You win a lot of games too, but it seems like everyone wants to surround me."

"Well, I have been here longer than ya have. Give it time and they'll move on. They like ya because ya don't tell them anything. It keeps them interested."

"I'm sure you're right. But for now I just need a breather. I'll catch you later, Che." Gia bid farewell and walked off into the shadows, away from prying eyes and camera flashes. The combat medic made her way back to the center of the press where Elliott and Silva were waiting to talk to her with concerned looks in their eyes.

"Is Gia alright?" Elliott questioned her, making a move to go follow the object of his desires. Che put a hand against his chest to stop him.

"She don't wanna be bothered right now. She wants to be alone. So leave her alone."

"Is she hurt or something?" Silva asked worriedly.

"Nah, she just needs some fresh air. But she made it very clear she didn't want anyone to accompany her. So make sure ya tell the others to leave her be tonight."

"Can you at least tell us where's she's going in case she need someone."

"If she wants ya, she'll let ya know." was Che's response and then she walked away, hoping those idiots wouldn't bother Gia. She had to give the dopey idiots some credit though because all six of them never left the party. Despite their infatuation with the white-eyed Legend, they respected her privacy and gave her space when she asked for it. The press took notice of Gia's absence and tried to dig into everyone else for her whereabouts but no one relented and the press was forced to focus on the remaining Legends at the party.

Once the whole shebang was over and the press had made their leave, the six were becoming slightly worried at Gia's continued AWOL. She hadn't talked to anyone since she told Che she was leaving. No messages or calls. Nothing. Surely she was fine, though. Gia could absolutely hold her own if god forbid something were to happen, so the Legends weren't worried about finding her all beaten up on the Docks. But they were worried that something was still wrong and didn't feel comfortable letting her be alone for this long. It's been hours since anyone has seen her.

"I'm gonna go look for her." Elliott finally said. He was obviously agitated in his boots. The others weren't looking so hot either and they all agreed to split up and look for her. Problem was, there were far too many places she could possibly be and she hadn't answered anyone's messages so there wasn't even a general location they could pinpoint her at. They all checked her place in the compound housing the Legends, they checked all over Olympus, they checked Malta. They checked everywhere they could think of, but there was no sign of her and now they were well into the wee hours of the morning. Everyone was seriously starting to worry.

There was one final place Elliott could think of where she might possibly be, so he ran there as fast as he could to check. If she wasn't there, then he was starting to think he'd need to put a missing person's report on her. Surely Apex would find her quickly; they can't let one of their best fighters disappear. Especially not after a night of reporters fawning over her. Elliott charged towards the dropship housed at the very edge of Olympus. Getting through the security was rather easy, simply because the security had been disabled which was a relatively good sign in Elliott's eyes. She had to be here. None of the Apex crew were working at this time, as far as he was concerned. He let himself aboard the aircraft and he nearly collapsed onto the floor when he did.

Holy fucking shit, Gia was here. And she was with Revenant. And she was very clearly naked! Both of them were asleep -or, well, she was asleep and he was shut down, Elliott guessed. Did the robot sleep at all? They were laying all cuddled up to each other on one of the many plush seating areas with a blanket wrapped loosely around them. Gia's entire upper half was exposed to the warm air of the ship, but her dignity was covered just enough by the fact that she had her chest pressed up against Revenant's. The simulacrum kept a metal arm laying over her as they both slept, almost as if he was protecting her. She stirred lightly in her sleep and he responded by pulling her closer. Yet neither one of them woke up.

Elliott wasn't sure if he could scream, cry, runaway, or do all three. He wasn't gonna lie, his heart broke knowing that she would choose a robot over him. Even if his flirts were nothing more than a game, the fact that he was beat by a fucking robot of all things stung. Why didn't she say anything? Probably because no one would have believed her. I mean, Revenant of all people? That thing hated everyone and everything. And he's been known to threaten her on occasion. Was it all part of a rouse to keep people from guessing? Did the simulacrum have some sort of reputation to uphold? Or was this some sort of spontaneous thing? Either way, Elliott had a hard time picking his jaw up off the floor.

He managed to sneak out of the ship without waking either one of them and he exited the hangar. What was he supposed to tell the others? He didn't even know how to comprehend it himself! But he had to say something. Everyone else was still out looking for her. He managed to message everyone else but his words were short. "I found her. She's alright. Everyone stop worrying." he told them. Any responses he got back from them were ignored as he tried to calm his racing mind while he made his way back to his place.

This has been one hell of a night.

Elliott called an emergency meeting with the others the next afternoon once everyone was able to catch some well-needed sleep. Both Gia and Revenant had reappeared some time in the early morning, though no one was able to catch them together. Her usual chipper mood didn't do anything to quell Elliot's confused thoughts and he had half a mind to just probe her for answers to the questions he wasn't sure he wanted to even ask. What was he supposed to ask her? "How long have you been fucking Revenant? Were you ever gonna tell us or were you trying to toy with us? Does he even have a dick?" He wasn't hurt by the fact that she was seeing someone. Elliott knew she wasn't interested in any of the six of them. She made it very clear her no actually meant no. But Revenant?!

"What's so important you needed to gather all of us?" Crypto had asked. Elliott was tongue-tied. He just had to rip it off like a band-aid, right? That's what they all say, right?

"We need to call the competition off. Leave Gia alone." he managed to say.

"What? Why?" Wraith questioned with genuine confusion.

"She's seeing someone."

"How do you know?" Silva asked.

"I found them together last night."

"Are you sure?" Bloodhound asked and Elliott nodded.

"Very sure."

"Who is it? Another Legend?" Loba wondered. All eyes were on Elliott, waiting for him to spill the beans. Who could've possibly stolen Gia's heart? No one ever saw anyone else fawning over her and no one ever saw her eyes lingering for too long on a certain someone. She treated everyone the same. Perhaps it wasn't another Legend. Did she have a lover that came to surprise her at the party? Did a husband or wife come to cheer her on in the new events?

"It's... It's Revenant, okay!" he spat out and quite literally everyone else had gasped in surprise.

"Are you trying to make some sort of sick joke? Because if you are, I will throttle you!" Loba threatened.

"I'm serious! I found them together last night and she was very clearly naked in his arms."

"I don't believe it!" cried Wraith. There is no way someone as sweet as Gia would ever find companionship in someone like Revenant. It just couldn't be possible.

"Believe what you want but I'm backing out of this dumb competition! I don't want Revenant to snap my neck!" shouted Elliott and he threw his hands up in defeat. With a heavy sigh, he dropped his head to the table in a loud thump. A look of understanding passed from Legend to Legend. Everyone knew Revenant's behavior. He was cold and he was unforgiving. If what Elliott claimed was true, then there's no telling what the simulacrum would do to them if he found out they were all trying to get into her pants.

"What do we say to Gia? She'll know something's up." Silva asked aloud to the group.

"You don't have to say anything." that god damn voice said, making everyone jump in their seat and whip their heads around to peer at Gia timidly idling in the doorway. Her white eyes were glossed over in pity, and that hurt all the more.

"Were you standing there the whole time?" Elliott asked her.

"I heard shouting. I came at the part where you said you found us together last night."

"Oh." was all he said back.

"Listen, guys," she started, moving into the room and closer to them. "I know how much fun you guys were having with this competition thing going on between all of you. And I'm sorry this was how you found out about me and Revenant."

"Have you been seeing him this whole time?" Loba almost seethed.

"Yes." she flat out said. No beating around the bush. "I promise I'm not dating him to spite you, Loba. I started dating him long before I even knew of your history with him. I didn't do this to hurt you. And I'm sorry if it does hurt you." she apologized.

"No one's hurt that you're seeing him." claimed Silva.

"Speak for yourself!" Loba interrupted.

"We're just confused is all, chica."

"Loba, truly I'm very sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry to all of you. I'm sorry if I ever lead any of you on, but I honestly thought I had made it very clear that this was just a game."

"You did. We heard you loud and clear, hermosa. We were just trying to have a little fun with you."

"I know. And I'm sorry if this put a stop to your competition. Believe me when I say I enjoyed the attention. I truly did not intend for any of you to get hurt or upset. If it's Revenant you're hesitant of, I can give you my absolute word he will not harm any of you."

"I guess I just want to know how it happened." said Wraith. Gia attempted a jovial smile in her direction.

"There's so much to me you guys don't even know. So much that even Revenant doesn't know. I know it may seem strange but I promise you that he and I are not very different."

"Does he even.... um.. have a... you know?" Elliott then hesitantly questioned much to everyone else's embarrassment. They all shouted at him in distaste. "Oh come on! I know I'm not the only one who's curious!" he defended himself. Gia took in a deep, shuttering breath.

"Well... um... yes, he does."

"That's just weird. That is so weird." shuttered Silva. "Dios mío, eso es asqueroso. Can we please talk about something else?" he mumbled into his palms.

"Look, to make a long story short, all I can say is I'm sorry. From the absolute bottom of my heart, I am sorry. Regardless of where we all go from here, I just want you to know that you've all made me feel pretty, you've made me feel important, and you've made me feel loved. And I can't ever thank you enough for that. I just hope you all understand that I truly do love you too. Even if it's not the same way that you love me. I truly do love you."

"As long as you're happy." Crypto replied to her. As sad as he was to say it, he meant it for her.

"I am. I really am."

"I guess that's the end of that. It's been a good game, guys." Elliott directed towards the other five. "We're just not what you're looking for, I guess."

"But you're what someone is looking for." she consoled. "Elliot, you are the most handsome man I have ever met in my entire life." Gia confessed to him. To solidify her statement, she pressed a warm kiss to his cheek. Then she turned to the green-haired man beside him. "Silva, my life would be so incredibly boring without you in it." and she pressed a kiss to his cheek as well. "Loba, next time you see me in the arena, I want you to just step on me with those boots." she giggled and kissed her cheek as well. Despite Loba's best efforts, she cracked a real smile. "Bloodhound, you're an incredibly skilled hunter and I wish I could match up to you." Gia tentatively lifted her hands towards his face, waiting to see if he'd stop her from removing his face mask. He didn't. So she lifted the material from his face and pressed a kiss to his cheek as well before putting it back in place. "Crypto, don't ever let anyone underestimate you." a kiss to his cheek. "And of course, Wraith. I meant what I said before; you have a beautiful smile. Show it off some more." a kiss to her cheek. "I love you guys. And I hope you don't think any less of me."

"Of course not." said Bloodhound which made Gia's heart flutter with glee. She bid a final farewell to all of them before making her departure, still unsure if they have forgiven her for her secrets. The room fell quiet for several moments as they all processed what just happened. In the blink of an eye, everything just crumbled. No one was angry. They all still loved Gia. But now things were a little different. The competition was officially off the table now and the six Legends were unsure of where to go from here.

"She totally loves me more." Silva cracked the silence.

"Are you kidding? She kissed me first!"

"She kissed me longer." claimed Bloodhound. And then a full blown argument started between all of them over who Gia had more affection for.

Everything sort of calmed down after Gia had finally come clean. The six Legends that had been following her for months had backed off and everyone took notice of it. Che asked Gia what had happened between all of them and Gia had confessed that she had been seeing someone behind everyone's back. Though she didn't name names. Che wanted details of course but didn't press when Gia refused to give them. Even Pathfinder could sense that there was some tension in the room but, bless his heart, he had no idea how to make everyone feel better. He tried though. "Everything will be okay, friend." he told her and then gave her one of his famous high fives.

It's not like Gia didn't try to mend things with them. She still tried to talk to them but conversations became awkward because no one knew what to say anymore. All the flirting stopped and everyone was too scared to sit too close to her in fear of Revenant's wrath. But she did try. It's just that her efforts went nowhere.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Gia and Revenant were seen together out in public for the very first time. They officially outed themselves as a couple. Everyone was just minding their own business when Gia had appeared, dragging Revenant behind her with her hand interlaced in his. She pulled him into everyone's view and everyone turned to stare at them with wide eyes. She paid them no mind, but Revenant glared at anyone he connected eyes with. She pulled him down to sit with her and he did without complaint. She cuddled into his side and he tossed an arm across her shoulders, allowing her to get as close as possible. Everyone was watching, but it was Elliott, Silva, Loba, Crypto, Bloodhound, and Wraith that seemed to be the most in shock. What had finally changed her mind about keeping their relationship quiet, they didn't know. Everyone was just as confused as they were and those who were aware of the six's admiration for Gia all turned towards them in either pity or curiosity. Yet no one said a word. It felt like all eyes were burning into them. But thank god they all turned away at some point.

Gia proceeded to show Revenant something on her device and they both watched intently. He even scooted her into his lap so he could place his chin on her shoulder and watch. His arms wrapped around her midsection protectively and she cracked a smile. She looked so tiny in his lap.

"I can't watch this." Loba said and stormed off. She still hadn't come to terms with the fact that the woman she desired was in love with the demon she wanted to murder.

"Does anyone else feel nauseous or is it just me?" Wraith asked, turning away from the loving couple.

"No, I feel it too." Elliott confessed.

"Aye."

"It may hurt now, but she is a grown woman who has made her decision and we must respect that. We'll get over it eventually." Bloodhound told the group.

"Just because we respect it doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt, compadre." retorted Silva.

"You think they'll stay together?" Crypto then asked and everyone looked back to Gia still cuddled in Revenant's metallic lap. Elliott watched carefully as every twitch of Revenant's fingers only seemed to hold her closer to his chest. His touched appeared to be gentle and Gia had made herself comfortable in his embrace. She smiled at her device and carefully ran her fingertips along the build of his arms. He must've made some sort of noise because she nudged her cheek against his metal face plating. When he turned to look at her, she looked back and pressed her forehead to his. They both closed their eyes and Elliott assumed that was their version of a kiss considering he didn't have any lips -or even a moveable jaw for that matter. And Elliott could tell that she was genuinely happy.

"Yeah. I think so."

[cynical-sprite]

(an Apex Legends Revenant x reader fic where the reader and Revenant were in a relationship back when he was human, and, after his “death”, the reader was put into cryogenic suspension for some reason. 200 some years pass, and the reader is thawed out, and she and she is reunited with her former lover who is now the simulacrum Revenant. I had the name Michael in mind, but someone on twitter mentioned that he looked like a James to them, and I thought that was a near perfect fit, so I went with James instead.) This story is based on an THIS IDEA I came up with. If anyone wants to write their own fic based on this idea, it's perfectly fine with me; I just ask that you send me a link to the fic so I can read it.😊

I could feel the stare from across the room as I sat on the drop ship, waiting to drop into World’s Edge. Though unsure whether out of nervousness or curiosity, maybe both, I glanced in the direction where the glare was coming from only to be met with a pair of yellow eyes glowing in the darkness, locked on to me with laser focus. It was the simulacrum, Revenant. A simulacrum, a human consciousness in a robotic body; I found the idea equal parts fascinating and terrifying at the same time. Though the notion was somewhat intriguing to my scientific side, there was  also a part of me that considered the idea to be wrong, just… against nature. I’d heard the stories about Revenant, the rumor that, in life, he was once the greatest assassin The Syndicate ever had. The Syndicate’s greatest assassin. To my knowledge, there was only one person who had ever been given that title… James. We were engaged to be married when James died. We both knew well the dangers of his job, but it did little to ease the pain of being delivered the news of his death. Though I didn't have any proof, I'd always somewhat suspected The Syndicate was responsible somehow, that it had possibly been intentional. The rumors surrounding Revenant were partly what caused me to join The Apex Games, that, and the need to find something to make me feel alive after spending the last two hundred or so years in cryogenic suspension. Since I'd been brought out of cryo sleep a few years ago, I’d wandered somewhat aimlessly, trying to find my place in this new life. When I heard about The Apex games and the rumors surrounding their newest participant, Revenant, I had to see for myself. The games would give me the thrill I sought, and I would get the chance to encounter Revenant, see him for myself. Perhaps I was crazy for even considering the possibility that the simulacrum could somehow be, or could ever have been James, but I just had to find out somehow; I had to face Revenant in person. What did I have to lose besides my life, which, at the moment, sorely lacked purpose.

    I was startled from my thoughts by the voice of Elliott Witt aka Mirage. “Damn, _______, what’d you do to piss off the murder bot?” I blinked in surprise as I managed to turn my gaze away from Revenant and turned to look at Elliott beside me.

   “What? Nothing. I… I didn’t…” I shook my head slightly. “I mean, I couldn’t have done anything to him. We’ve never even met…” 

   "Could've fooled me." Elliott remarked. Though the simulacrum was certainly an unsettling presence, there was a strange feeling of… familiarity, even if only slightly, that I couldn't seem to shake. Or maybe I was just imagining it. Wishful thinking perhaps? I didn't have time to give it any more consideration as the announcement was made that we would be dropping into World's Edge.

   The first half of the match went fairly well; my squad had managed to make it into the top ten. During the second half of the match, I managed to get separated from my squadmates, Mirage and Octane. We were about to be hit with an EMP from Crypto's drone, and the three of us scattered, fleeing in different directions. I tried to reach them over the comms, but, evidently, the EMP had apparently disrupted those as well. 

   As I wandered World's Edge alone, attempting to get the comms working again so I could get in touch with Elliott and Octavio, I quickly got the feeling someone was watching me, stalking me even. My first thought was of Bloodhound. They could easily trail me without being noticed; they were, after all, a hunter and a tracker. Another possibility was Wraith; she could follow me virtually undetected as well. But, when I turned around to take a look, I was taken somewhat off guard by what I saw; standing a few feet away from me stood the simulacrum, Revenant, staring at me just as he had when we were on the drop ship. I shouldn't have been surprised, but for some reason, he had been the last person I'd expected to be there.

  "Hello, girlie." He took a few steps towards me, his glowing yellow eyes staring a hole in me all the while. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared; anyone in their right mind would be. But, I did everything I could not to show it. I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of knowing it. I probably should have run, but something kept me rooted to the spot. Besides, I was certain there was no way I'd be able to outrun the simulacrum should he decide to give chase. So, instead, I did my best to look intimidating, trying not to let on just how anxious I was. 

   "What do you want from me?" If he'd wanted to simply kill me, there would be no reason for observing me so closely, would there? There must have been more to it… He laughed, a deep rumble in his chest, and had he the ability to make facial expressions, I was reasonably sure he'd have been grinning, no… smirking. He continued towards me until he was directly in front of me, towering over me at almost seven feet tall. His yellow eyes were still glued to me, scanning me over, taking me in. He bent down slightly, presumably to  get a better look at me. Observing me even more closely. There was something hypnotic about those eyes, something that made it difficult to look away, and, maybe this sounds crazy, but I couldn't help thinking that, if you looked deep enough, close enough, there was something almost… human about them. 

   He reached out a hand, and in that moment, I thought my life had reached its end. I had seen video footage where his hand morphed into a blade with which he'd use to put a swift end to the lives of many "skinbags". I was certain that was to be my fate, that or he was about to snap my neck in one swift motion. What actually happened, however, was the last thing I expected. He placed a finger under my chin and tilted my face upwards to better look him in the eyes. His touch was surprisingly gentle for a killer simulacrum. I froze in place, both shocked and confused by the action. 

   It reminded me of something, bringing back a memory I'd half buried in my grief. James was 6 feet tall, a good bit taller than me. Snarky asshole that he was, he loved to tease me for being shorter than him. I'd always tease him back that I wasn't short, that he was just unnaturally tall. Whenever he wanted to look into my eyes, he would place a finger gently under my chin and tilt my head slightly upwards for me to better look into his deep blue eyes. Just as the Revenant was doing now.

   "What… what is this...?" was all I could manage. Could it be true? Was it really him? It couldn't simply some strange coincidence, could it? 

   He let out a slight chuckle, a low sound from deep in his chest."You always have been a tiny little skinbag, haven't you, _______?"

   My mouth dropped open, and I froze in place. Finally, I managed to stammer out the name, a name I hadn't spoken for so long. "J… James…?" The simulacrum froze upon hearing me speak the name. It was clear by his reaction that he hadn't heard in quite a long time, if he'd even remembered it at all. I was unsure just how much the human aspect of his mind had been affected. He tilted his head slightly to the side as he looked at me.

    "Heh. I wasn't sure if you'd recognize me." He was still for a moment before leaning in even closer. "Or, if you'd remember. But, then again, I didn't think I'd ever see you again. Alive, at least." If I didn't know better, I could have sworn I'd heard something in his voice; he sounded almost… hurt. Was he upset about not knowing I was still alive? It wasn't as if I could come to him and tell him. Until a few moments ago, I hadn't even been sure that he was who he was. And, it wasn't as if anyone else could tell him I was alive. Almost no one knew the details of his identity when he was still human.

   "James, I…"

   "James is dead." he snapped, cutting me off. I shook my head.

   "No. No, that's not true. There has to be something left of you in there. You knew who I was, this whole time, you remembered me. It's true you may be made up of mostly tech and mechanics, but your mind… your mind is still yours. And those emotions you're feeling, hurt, rage… those are all very human. Machines can't feel emotion; that's something exclusive to humans. Or, at least, living creatures…"

   "I'm not him anymore. I'm a ghost, a shell of that man. A Revenant."

   "James, I…"

   "Revenant." he corrects me, cutting me off once more.

   "Revenant. I had no idea… about what they'd done to you. I mean, I had my suspicions about the Syndicate, that they had something to do with your death, but… but, afterwards…" A tear escaped my eye, running slowly down my cheek. "I had no idea what they'd done to you. I'm so sorry..." I blinked as another tear ran down my face. He let out what sounded much like a frustrated sigh rather reminiscent of the ones he used to in life whenever I'd say something sappy to him. Being a hitman, James was never the romantic type, but whenever I'd make an attempt, he would always just sigh, sometimes even going so far as to humor me.

   Slowly, he moved his hand up to wipe a tear from my eye, much more gently than I'd have expected from a killer robot.

   "You skin bags are always so emotional." he remarked, though his voice was softer than I'd have thought possible. "You couldn't have known, so cut it out, alright?" Though it sounded harsh, I knew better. Even in life, he was never much good at reassurance; this was the closest you'd get from him. He was trying in his own way. 

   I nodded. "Okay… okay." 

   "Now, you want to tell me how it is a skinbag like you is still alive after all these years. I mean, you do look old, but not that old." I could hear the snark in his voice at his last comment, and, if it had been possible, I was certain he would have been smirking. It earned a slight chuckle from me.

   "Well, that does tend to happen to us skinbags. We age." I shook my head, grinning slightly. "It's… kind of a long story. It involves spending over a decade in cryosleep. I got thawed out a few years ago. But, now's not the time for that. I'll give you the details later, after the match." He silently leaned in, resting his forehead lightly against mine. 

   A few moments later, I heard footsteps approaching. I whipped around and pulled out my Alternator, pointing it in the direction of the footsteps, only to come face to face with my squad mates, Mirage and Octane. "Jesus, you two!" I yelled, lowering my weapon, "Don't do that! I almost shot you guys!" Elliott was holding his hands up in a defensive manner, looking rather shaken. 

   "Okay, okay! Don't have to tell me twice!" he remarked, exhaling a deep breath he'd evidently been holding. "What's this all about?" He gestures towards Revenant and me with his hand.

   "When I saw you two, at first I thought I must be seeing things. But, then, Elliott said he was seeing it, too, so I knew it had to be real." Octavio commented.

   Revenant chuckled lowly. "Well, looks like it's time for me to go. You've got some explaining to do to your friends. See you soon, girlie." And, with that, he disappeared as quickly as he'd first appeared earlier. 

   "Since when are you so cozy with the murder bot? What the hell did we miss?" Elliott remarked. I sighed, rolling my eyes. 

   "Later. I'll explain later. Right now, just focus on the games or I'll shoot you myself." 

[klbwriting]

The Sparrow and The Rogue - Part 1

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Pairing: Ben Hargreeves/ female!Reader

Warnings: some fighting, a touch of fat-shaming

Summary: The Umbrella siblings arrive back in 2019 to discover that Ben has no idea who they are, their dad wants them all dead, and they are once again in way over their heads

Notes: I’M AT IT AGAIN.  Another series because I’m a glutton for punishment and I can’t resist my love for Ben Hargreeves.  A few actual notes now.  Note 1: In this I refer to Ben as Number One because I feel that is who he seems to be in the Sparrow Academy and also once Reginald learned of the others I don’t think he would allow personal names ever again.  Note 2:  I have named the reader in this as Number Eight because I feel its ambiguous that you can infer yourself as a reader into the shoes of someone just called a number.  Note 3: I am really trying to portray the characters well so I hope you enjoy!  Please like, reblog, but most of all COMMENT send asks about it or just reply with something or use fun tags.  Thank you!

Klaus couldn't process what he was seeing.  Ben, his brother, his dead compadre, the one person who was always there for him (except when he was on something, and that one time he just abandoned him in a bar), was right there in front of him with a bad boyband haircut and hate in his eyes.  It was a scene that was both tragic and beautiful for Klaus.  Vanya felt similar feelings rise in her.  Ben had been the one to truly save the world, had been the kindest of her siblings when they were kids, the one who seemed to actually love her and here he was looking at her like he wanted to unleash the horror on her right in the living room that she used to call home.  Diego recalled easily how Ben when he was possessing Klaus had hugged him so tight and he had felt the love he missed from his baby brother, but now he had the distinct feeling that Ben would take him out without a second thought.  None of the other four had had any moments with Ben recently but they were feeling similar things, happiness at the fact that he was alive, but confusion over how different he seemed.  Klaus finally opened his mouth to say something when Reginald stepped in.

"These are the morons I told you about Number One, they have come to usurp your group, they are what I have trained you for," he said.  The Umbrella siblings turned to face their father, faces a mix of rage and hurt.  Ben frowned looking at the motley group in front of him.  "Well Number One?  Lead your team against these frauds."  He was conflicted, he had rarely attacked anyone who didn't deserve it and he didn't really know what these guys did to deserve the wraith of his father, but before he would make a move the front door of the academy burst open, shattering to the ground as several figures entered the room.  Leading them was a familiar face.

"You dummies going to just stand there?" Lila asked as she entered the room ready for a fight.  The Umbrella siblings looked back to the Sparrow siblings to see them now all around Ben, masks on, and ready for attack.  Surprisingly however, none of them looked anything like the Umbrella siblings, they were all completely different, except for Ben.  

"What are you waiting for Number One? ATTACK!" Reginald yelled. 

  "Shut up dad," a girl standing beside Lila snarked to Reginald.  He glared back at her.

"I see you've grown yet again Number Eight, getting bigger by the day," he snarked back.  She snarled at him.  

"O come on, fat-shaming?  That's a little much," Klaus said.  Then he caught sight of Lila's expression.  "O right, escaping."  He followed his siblings and the two women out as the others with them were left behind to fight with the Sparrow siblings.  They got a few blocks away before stopping for breath.  

"Number Eight?" Five finally spat out at the unknown woman.  She shrugged. "I was Number Eight for five years before Lila here came along and sprung me," she explained.  Diego looked confused.

"You look exactly the same as you did in the 60's how is that possible if you raised another peron?" he asked.  Lila smirked.

"A lady never reveals her secrets.  O I missed you love," she answered, gripping Diego's face in her hand.  He rolled his eyes but didn't pull away.  He missed her too if he was being honest even though she had tried to kill him, a few times.  "Now I see you have met your new counterparts."

"Why is Ben leader?" Luther asked.  The rest of the siblings looked at him as if to say 'what the fuck dude?'  He held up his hands shrugging. 

"Because Ben as you call him is the strongest in that crop, at least in terms of powers, channeling a being of destruction in your abs can get you a lot if you try," Eight responded.  "But he can be sympathetic and good most of the time."  She reddened some at the confused looks on the siblings faces.

"You'll have to forgive sweet little Eight here, she has a bit of crush on Number One there," Lila said, putting an arm around Eight that the woman immediately shrugged off in annoyance.  "Anyway, now that you've returned to the present I should catch you up shouldn't I?  Come on, to our little hideout, the others should be getting there by now since our little distraction and extraction worked."  She turned without getting a response and headed down a flight of stairs that had construction blocks in front of it, disappearing underground with Eight following her.  The others looked at each other and one by one they followed the women into the ground.

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

Number One found himself wondering several things after the scuffle had ended.  One, why had his father spent so much time talking up this group of siblings like they were evil incarnate?  He didn't see any sign of anger or threat from any of them.  Two, why did Eight always have to show up with Lila?  It drove him crazy to see her, especially now after their last one on one fight that didn't exactly end with a normal take down unless Lila was teaching unexpectedly kissing as a new technique.  And three, where the hell had they gotten the name Ben from?  He racked his brain for a time that he was known as Ben and he couldn't recall one.   "Dad, what was all that about?" he questioned as his siblings watched at dinner that night.  Reginald sighed deeply, hating to be questioned, especially with Pogo and Grace in the room.

"Number One, I have told you before, the Umbrella Academy is a rival, a group who wants to destroy us and what we hope to achieve," he said as if One was a small child.  

"I understand that's what you told us but that is not what I saw in them today, they looked sad, and confused," he said.  "If they were a threat then why didn't they seem to know us at all?  Why did they call me Ben?"  

"Enough Number One, if you cannot listen properly then you are dismissed from dinner and are to go study Lord Byron again, maybe you will learn something finally," he snapped.  One gripped his fork tightly but stood and did as told, just like always.  He was the leader and needed to set an example.  He heard the whispers from his siblings before they were silenced by their father.  He felt Number Three poking around in his mind, trying to see what he was thinking, trying to put a thought into his head but he shook it off and headed upstairs to his room. 

He shut the door and let out a breath, finally relaxing for the first time that day.  He stripped off his uniform and got into comfier clothes, before laying down in his bed.  He laid there, actually taking out Lord Byron and reading some before he heard the last of his siblings go to their rooms.  Once he was sure that the house was completely locked down and everyone was at least pretending to sleep he put the book down and rolled over, feeling behind his bed for the loose brick just below his box spring.  He pulled it out and from it he pulled out a crayon drawing and a cell phone.  He put the picture back into the hidey hole before powering up the phone.  He smiled at the message that was waiting for him.

'It was nice to see you today even if I almost had to kill you' 'You couldn't kill me if you tried' 'Ya, you're probably right, but you couldn't kill me either One' 'I know Eight, I know' 'Maybe we can find a way to have a fight tomorrow?' 'I do have some time scheduled to patrol between 9th and 15th street aroud 5 pm' 'I'll be sure to vandalize a building or maybe rob a warehouse on say 12th?' 'I'll be there to stop you' 'Can't wait, goodnight One' 'Goodnight Eight, o and what dad said, you look amazing the way you are' He didn't get an answer but knew she'd see it in the morning and hopefully it would make her smile.  He put the phone and brick back and drifted off imaging her smiling at his message.

[unholyplumpprincess]

Winner Winner Porkchop Dinner

Cryptage commission for @trashyoctopus !

Summary: Crypto and Mirage are set up on a blind date, with neither knowing that it was each other. Rivalry COULD have gotten in the way, if Elliott wasn’t too fucking pretty for his own good.

(Older content)

Reblogs > Likes. It costs zero dollars to reblog the fics you like :D Minors and ageless blogs DNI or you will be blocked!

Relationship: Crypto/Mirage

Fandom: Apex legends

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, both Crypto and Mirage are cis, anal sex/fingering, Crypto being a bottom baby, tears, overstimulation, fucking on the floor

Words: 3.2K

_______________

Dating for legends was rather difficult. In a world that saw you as stars, people could become rather obsessive. Crypto was no stranger to the ‘starstruck’ vision upon seeing a legend. He had been one of the people who had set up the drones to broadcast them all fighting, after all. It was no different to him to pick and choose favorites.

Except now he WAS a legend. Walked among them the same way they walked with him. Partners or rivals, it didn’t matter.

Dating, again, for legends was rather difficult- and yet, Elliott Witt, better known as ‘Mirage’, famous trickster of the arena. Well, he got along just fine.

Or so he had made it seem.

~Rest under the cut~

Elliott talked a big game. Had a big mouth, for that matter. Talked about both men and women he could charm, even those who fit neither category. Last, of which, he boasted whilst making finger gun motions at Bloodhound who had waved him off with a ‘shoo’ motion as if he was a horny dog.

Something Crypto thought to be rather amusing when the flirty legend had pouted in response.

Being among them all, he’s learned they’re all much like a family. Romance could blossom between specific people within their circle, he’d seen it himself with Wraith eyeing Anita from across a room. Only to look away the second the woman’s eyes looked back at him and he’d pretended he’d never seen her looking.

Because loving while being part of this bloodied sport wasn’t an option. To stay available and don’t let feelings get in the way of how brutally they could kill each other. Only to wake up again like it never happened, except now you hold a grudge in your heart for the pain one caused you.

All for sport- entertainment.

Yet, the sponsors seemed to go crazy if they could see one of the legends being soft. The media loved it too. When someone like Wraith had seen her teammate, Bangalore, get knocked- normally she wouldn’t have thought twice about gunning down those around her and going back for the beacon. However, you could see her hesitate, flick her head back and run for her downed squad mate with an open portal to safety.

This is when Crypto truly began to get interested. Media where he was from- if someone was that popular, they would have been KILLED for daring to date someone. It wouldn’t have made them ‘available’ for minds all around. But, it seemed media across all planets alike delighted in the idea of love blossoming in war.

He’d watched it himself online. Different articles popping online. How Wraith would huff and throw a magazine across the legends’ lounge room or toss it at Elliott who’d playfully tease her about it.

It affected legends as well.

And when he’d picked up the magazine and looked at the headline, with a still of Wraith and Anita making eye contact whilst picking one another up, with the words ‘LOVE IN KINGS CANYON?’?

Well. Maybe he wouldn’t mind it if something like this affected him either.

It’s why he agrees to this stupid blind date thing. A mutual of his, someone he didn’t quite trust but she was at least a nice enough person, had a brilliant idea of a blind date. Said she knew someone who was JUST his type. There was no need for awkward ‘do you like girls or boys?’ conversations to happen, thankfully he knew it was at least a man he was meeting.

Crypto could only feel anxiety when he woke up that morning. Twisting in his stomach about who they could be. What did they look like? Would they mind if he was a quiet person? Would they worry and fret too much over him not talking the whole time? Would they be funny? Would they have curly hair- long hair- were they kind?

So many questions.  

The unknown made him paranoid.

The woman leads him to a nice café. Crypto, for the date, adorned an oversized black hoodie that’s left unzipped, a lower black face mask with a filter on it, a low cut white shirt and ripped black skinny jeans. He felt more punk than anything, but it was casual for a setting like this. Except, perhaps, all of the jewelry he wore around his neck.

She guides him to the back to sit down, a nice little area while she excitedly chirps that she’ll be right back with his date.

Crypto’s on edge the entire three minutes and twenty two seconds she is gone. Fussing with a little fidget toy in his pocket to keep a hand busy and keeping his other resting on the table in case he needed to jab at someone.

Prepared, not paranoid.

The chatter of the café is quiet. The music is soft, and yet his shoulders are taut.

But then he sees her walking back over, someone behind her, taller, curly hair-

“Oh! Hey, buddy!” Comes from the man as he comes padding over excitedly like a dog, sitting in front of Crypto with a big, dimpled smile on his face.

Elliott Witt.

No fucking way.

Crypto’s eyes widen, and he looks up at their mutual friend who passes him a wink and a, “Have fun, boys!” Before she’s off.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Elliott continues with a bit of a laugh exhaling from him. Fiddling with his hands uncharacteristically in his lap. Nervous, it appeared, as Crypto’s eyes smooth over his frame. “S-so ya’ like coffee? No- no it was tea, right? I can order for us! Er, Wraith was saying sometimes you come out at night and make tea?” Definitely nervous.

He cleaned up well enough without wearing his sponsors or his gear for that matter. A v neckline on a black t-shirt that was form hugging, a yellow and black printed flannel with the sleeves rolled up just above his elbows to show strong, hairy forearms. Form fitting black jeans hugged him just as well and his hair was styled to the side. Curls looking washed and fresh with their fluffy texture.

He cleaned up extremely well.

Elliott is fussing again, nervously displaying his hands out on the table as he fusses with his hands. Crypto can’t help but think it’s kind of...endearing.

They’d been rivals on the battlefield ever since their first match together. Mark on the scoreboard, he supposed that may have been his fault for counting and rubbing it in Elliott’s face. But...

“Tea would be nice.” He finally speaks up, cutting Elliott off as he pulls his mask down to rest around his neck so he could prepare.

He watches Elliott’s eyes light up like an excited dog’s, nodding his head quickly as his curls move with the motions. “Yeah! Y-yeah, yeah of course, gimme a sec. Preference?”

And that’s how they spent that afternoon. Not as legends, or as rivals. But as two people set up on a blind date and enjoying one another’s company. Even laughed when Elliott had sputtered and quietly shout-whispered the question of ‘YOU HAVE A TONGUE PIERCING?!’ when Crypto had stuck his tongue out.

Crypto hated to admit it. But he had a great time.

And then an even better time the time after that, and then the next. Aaaand another.

Until the new headlines were now saying ‘LOVE BLOSSOMING IN NEW “MELTDOWN” ARENA?’ with their faces on it.

--

Their relationship was under wraps. No one knew, no one was allowed to know in full, but the media could speculate. That much Elliott allowed. Little teases to the public whilst Crypto preferred not to do interviews.

Their relationship blossoms from there. They become close- turns out they both had missing family members. Crypto opens up about his sister, Mila. While Elliott opens up about his brothers. He speculates they may have passed in war, but that he holds out hope. While Crypto opens up that he worries that she was killed, and that if she wasn’t, that she was not in agony.

There, they build their foundation on. Trust and love. Opening up to each other slowly. Elliott is much easier to open up about himself and his interests, Crypto is harder. He doesn’t talk anymore on his past from his sister or his mother, only bits and pieces. He allows Elliott into his life slowly, more and more until one another cannot stand to sleep alone.

Wraith teases Elliott nowadays on who is making goo-goo eyes now. Crypto over hears it through the walls and tries not to smile at their antics.

It’s in the ring they have to be more mindful. After the first guess of their relationship, Crypto had to explain to Elliott that though his partner may have loved the cameras, Crypto did not. The attention became too much, and Elliott immediately made that all die down. With his charming smile and a joke about how if he had chosen someone to settle down with, don’t you think he’d be all over them?

Oh, he was all over them. Crypto couldn’t go a day without hands jerking him close. Even if at first he had rolled his eyes and huffed at it, Elliott quickly found out that this tough cookie was just giving him a rough time. Especially when Crypto would give up the ruse and lean back into him.

No, it’s in the ring they have to be careful. Otherwise, anywhere else? Free game. Other legends could shut their lips.

Hence why this match was going rather roughly.

Mirage, Crypto, and Lifeline all on the same squad. Ajay makes a joke about ‘old times’ and how they should keep score again. Playfully bumping Crypto’s hip with her own and earning her a bit of a smirk before it’s turned to Elliott with a cocky look and a soft hum of, “I am sure that the old man has learned his lesson.”

Which earns him wide eyes, a gaped mouth, and, “Hey! Not that again!” Before Ajay is shoving them both off the dropship for round two.

The teasing in the ring could be seen as rivalry. They do count the kills, oh they do. Crypto keeps the lead by one point as Ajay keeps score. They bicker and huff the entire time, especially when Ajay takes down a newbie that was hanging in the back and trying to get a drop on them.

At some point they are under squad fire, a grenade heading their way and rolling on the ground. Ajay calls it out from afar, Crypto is the one who spots it.

His fingers twist in Elliott’s coat, yanking him close to his body and throwing their bodies to the side so it only can get a fraction of their shields.

The tension in the corner of the room with Crypto on top of him, both panting and looking into each other’s eyes. So close and so good-

Is their ultimate down fall when they’re shot in the back.

Ajay at least laughs about it in the med bay, saying that, “Ya looked like a proper married couple. Keep ya heads down, ya hear me?” With a tease.

And then a call back, “Oh! Crypto? Two points in the lead.”

--

There’s a gasp as Crypto’s back hits the door of Elliott’s dorm. Inside his room as Elliott fits a leg between his thighs, grabbing his chin and tilting it down ever so slighty so he could devour his mouth. They were about equal heights, with Crypto maybe being an inch taller. Something he took a bit of amusement in.  

But right now, that’s not on his mind. What is, is the pressure on his cock through his pants. How Elliott’s tongue licks into his mouth. Feeling over the piercing on Crypto’s tongue and groaning in reply when Crypto’s hands fists into his jacket and yank him closer.

Their mouths move in sync. Having kissed each other a hundred times over, they know their pace. Crypto presses, sinking his teeth into Elliott’s full lower lip just to hear him let out a shaky breath through his nose in response. His hands come up, fisting Elliott’s curls and tugging him closer with a growl.

The knee between Crypto’s thighs presses up, grinding until he’s pulling back with a whine, head thunking back against the door. This leaves him open for Elliott’s mouth to kiss at his exposed neck, mindful of where the cybernetics were most exposed and aiming for the sensitive wiring. His teeth lightly bite into the flesh feeling silicone, feeling Crypto yelp in reply with pleasure as his leg hitches around Elliott’s waist.

He’s biting his lip, keeping quiet and stubbornly trying to yank on Elliott’s hair. That won’t do.

“Think you can embarrass me like that in the ring, baby?” Elliott’s voice is steady in situations like this. His stutter maintained if he tried not to think about it too hard. His breath hot on the shell of Crypto’s ear as his tongue follows, just to feel him shudder against him.

He’s melting. He couldn’t stand being a brat for too long.

“T-think you just- ah- can't keep up.” Is Crypto’s haughty reply, followed by a huff when Elliott’s hand moves from caressing his cheek to his hair. Yanking on it to pull his head to the side to expose the other said of Crypto’s neck for another onslaught of kisses and hot bites. Pushing at his jacket with his other hand until it falls to the floor and Elliott can bite at the crook of his shoulder instead. Sucking a dark bruise there.

“Really?” Elliott breathily laughs. Tripping up Crypto behind his knee before pulling him by his hair to the floor. Watching him hit his knees almost too easy and looking up at Elliott with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. “Because from what I saw, you just about bent over for me in front of a camera.”

A sniper position, one so open that Crypto wouldn’t normally take. Lying prone to get a good shot- that's what he’d told Ajay. But he knew exactly what he was doing when he shifted his hips eeever so slightly for the trickster behind him.

He huffs through his nose, embarrassed at being caught, looking to the side. But, Elliott coos under his breath, catching his chin and dragging his gaze back up. “No, no, none of that. C’mon, kitten, you can make it up to me, can’t you?”

The nickname has Crypto’s cheeks flushing red to his ears. Surely spreading down over his chest as Elliott works on his own pants. Pulling out his cock, the head shiny with pre-cum when he smooths his hand over it a few times. Pumping to show how hard he was, pulling back foreskin and making Crypto’s mouth water.

He huffs again through his nose, followed by a whine. He about chokes when Elliott smirks, “Theeere’s my good boy. See? Can’t be mad at me for long.”

No, no, he couldn’t. Especially with his mouth stuffed full of cock and his fingers desperately pawing at Elliott’s hips not a few minutes later. Cryptos own clothing removed and his own cock aching as Elliott cradles his jaw, fingertips pressing lightly to feel the bulge in it every time he slides into his throat. Another appreciation for his piercing met every time he swipes it over the swollen head.

Crypto’s sure he’s drooling. Even by the time Elliott pulls out and is calling him a good boy. Even with the bed in the next room, Elliott can’t seem to wait. Lying Crypto down on the living room floor on his belly as he finds lube left behind on the coffee table from their LAST root around. Squirting a generous amount onto his fingers and working one into Crypto. Caressing his hip with his other hand and petting, telling him he’s a good boy, good baby.

Crypto hums in reply, cheek resting on his crossed arms under his head like a pillow. Cock jumping under his body, trapped and caged. By the time two fingers are in him, he’s sure he’s going to leave a stain on Elliott’s rug. Rocking his hips both into the rug for friction and back onto his fingers.

“Yeah, just like that. Keep it up, sweetheart.” Elliott is full of praise when he slips in a third finger. Making Crypto bite into his arm and shudder with each twist of fingers, scissoring them outwards and crooking them upwards.

A spurt of pre-cum leaves his cock and he can’t help the sob as his hips jump a bit as if stomping his foot. “Fuck me! Just- just fuck me, Elliott, I can’t take this!” Crypto hisses out, earning him a laugh from his boyfriend and an ‘alright, alright’.

He’s rolled onto his back. From there it’s a blur. The slow enter of Elliott leads to his legs around the trickster’s hips, arms around his neck and burying his face into his shoulder. No clothing between them, naked chest to naked chest, heartbeat to heartbeat.

Crypto’s cock is jostled with each thrust. Grinding up against Elliott’s slightly fuzzy abdomen and providing enough friction to keep him very much interested. Even if Elliott is hitting just right to where pleasure bubbles in his abdomen like butterflies.  

His teeth sink into Elliott’s shoulder just as Elliott begins fucking him harder. Whining into Crypto’s ear in response when the other tightens his hold around his waist. Biting at the shell of his ear, nuzzling at his hair, murmuring praise just below his ear where his lips brush and his stubble scratches pleasantly.

Crypto cums suddenly and without the warning of budding heat. It happens with a shock and his nails rake down Elliott’s back with a cry. “I love you- I love you I love you--” Escapes his lips in soft sobs as his hips buck upwards into Elliott’s abdomen. Smearing the cum there, which will make for a mess to clean up later.

Instead, Elliott only groans at the sudden tightness and whines back, “Fuck, I love you-” As his hips piston into his boyfriend beneath him.

It’s all too much. Crypto’s eyes are welling with tears from overstimulation. His legs tighten even further, giving Elliott not a lot of room to work with except grind. And even then it’s all too much.

He sobs as a dry orgasm wracks his frame, just in time to hear Elliott deliciously moan in his ear like a whore as he cums. Pressing a hard kiss to Crypto’s temple as they hold each other through it all on the floor.

With a satisfied sigh and tension leaving both their frames, Elliott carefully peels back to assess the damage. Looking down at Crypto splayed out, legs still locked around his hips but looser, his hands resting by his head and his head turned to the side. Face flushed, eyes teary, lips wet and swollen.

He looked beautiful.

Elliott says so too, with a soft sigh of, “Absolutely gorgeous.” As he cups Crypto’s chest with one hand. Running his thumb over a nipple just to watch him jerk and moan softly, smacking at his hand with a grumble.

He may have lost in the ring, but in the bedroom, Elliott ‘Mirage’ Witt always won.

Always.

[sloppy-butcher]

Request 2 of 2 is any killer you want meeting a sneaky survivor (later s/o bc I’m weak) who can get up from being moried but have reduced movement, repair speed and if they get hooked it’s instantly over for them (I say any because I want you to write what you like, I’ll probably request more characters for either prompts I sent tho if you’re ok with it)

okay so, with this ask i decided to do something a little different.

The idea of somehow surviving a mori is so bizarre and unlikely that it really took me a while to think about it. I mean, the whole point of a mori is to outright kill the survivor. so in order to bring this request to life i decided to set up some ground rules.

1.) it will be assumed that the survivor who can outlive a mori is one lucky bastard. Whether it is because the killer is in a rush and cannot ensure the job is done correctly or they just suck and overestimated their killing ability.

2.) It will also be assumed that in order to survive a mori, the person who gets up immediately seeks the best medical attention the Fog has to offer (i.e. They rush over to Claudette bleeding outta their asshole). They must also be near the end of a trial because once they escape all wounds will be healed and their supposed death will be null and void.

Below is a list of the mori’s that are a definite no-no and are a maybe (WARNING: i wrote these at 3AM)

Mori’s you would definitely die to:

Huntress (Axe to the face)

Bubba (*get that bitch Leatherface!* chainsaw up torso)

Hag (pulls spleen (?) out, needs some spice)

Deathslinger (speared from butthole to mouth hole)

Oni (sword through the chest and no more tongue)

Pyramid Head (huge knife through gut)

Freddy (fingers your chest)

Spirit (knife to meet you *screams in Japanese*)

Doctor (you got a brain? not anymore)

Legion [specifically Joey] (mans is determined and crazy strong. its lights out for you)

Mori’s that are a MAYBE live:

Trapper (basic slash 4 a basic bitch)

Wraith (*baby WHACK baby WHACK baby WHACK*)

Hillbilly (bruh it aint even that deep)

Nurse (lady got moldy worm fingers, dafaq that suppose to do)

Clown (steals a finger and cracks your back)

Demogorgon (again, cracks your back starting with your neck)

Myers (has no aim and could miss a vital organ)

Ghostface (again, has talent but got no direction)

Pig (cover that new mouth vagina quick then you’d be gucci)

Plague (i want her to spit in my mouth so)

Legion [rest of them bitches] (punk lil babies who probs can’t even open a pickle jar)

Pyramid Head (the mini mori where he just bonks you after being hooked/cage: vibe check failed)

Now, with this out of the way, I have chosen two killers to write about. hope they are ok <3

HeadCanons for The Wraith (Philip Ojomo) and The Plague (Adiris) with a sneaky S/O capable of surviving a mori

The Wraith (Philip Ojomo)

Has to do a double-take when he sees you up and walking. He’ll literally stop dead in his tracks and just watch as you stumble across the landscape, dropping all his previous activities to focus on you. You looked like a ghost.

He’d question himself for a moment. Had he actually killed you? Did he just down you and forget? No, no. Philip always remembered who he killed, their faces of fear and pain, and their cries as he slashed open their backs. He was a strong man, vicious in his attacks. There was no way he could have missed. Yet, like a living contradiction to his beliefs, you were there.

He’d stalk you, cloaked and extremely quiet, turning the invisible factor up to 120%. You wouldn’t even notice he was there. He’d follow you around, peaking from behind trees and through windows as you would hobble after teammates and sloppily repair generators. If one of the more bulky survivors were on your team they’d carry you, slinging one of your arms over their shoulders and leading you around. How selfless and thoughtful. The other, more clever survivors would hurriedly try to mend your wounds, quick hands weaving through medkits and over broken skin. However nothing they did return you to your prior vigor. You definitely carried the weight of a near-death experience. regardless, Philip felt moved by your teammates' determination to help you.

If you ended up being the last survivor in the trial, the others having been hooked or mori’d, Philip would always let you live. He’d watch you get back up from your position on the floor, blood spewing out of the wounds across your back. You’d groan and shakily get to your feet, swaying as you did so, before trudging off to start the final generators. He admired your commitment and vowed to not disturb you as you worked. But progress was slow and Philip always found himself circling you. Maybe if you were healed you could work better? He thought to himself as he quickly zoomed around the arena in search for discarded med-kits. He’d find some still clutched in the frozen hands of dead teammates and hurriedly he’d take and present them to you. Although he was too nervous to actually hand the items to you, Philip would quietly leave them on the floor for you to turn around and find. Then he would retreat back to the shadows and continue to watch you.

The Plague (Adiris)

Adiris would also do a hard double-take. She’d gasp loudly when she found you working on another generator. You could hear her mumbling ancient words under her breath, rambling, and getting more and more frantic as she approached you.

Unlike Philip, Adiris would have no hold-ups about hurting you and she would set to work chasing and quickly down you again. With one quick smack, you would be forced to the ground with the impossible tall lady standing over you. Her previous whispered had now progressed into full-blown shouts. She’d call out to the sky in a desperate and commanding tone, the Babylonian language feeling strange in your ears. With palms open and facing upwards Adiris would thrust back her head and shout out for an explanation. Were you some kind of God? Maybe even a demon or angel? Whatever you were, it freaked Adiris out. Her eyes focused solely on the dark sky, all previous engagements to the trial having been forgotten. You could hear her desperately calling out for her God, crying for a reason as to why you didn't die. After several minutes, with her eyes filling with tears, Adiris relented and lowered her head.

There was no answer. If you weren’t some type of supernatural being, and instead just some poor ordinary person, then Adiris had in fact just failed at killing a poor soul. She wasn’t stupid; she could tell that she was chosen to mindlessly hurt and kill people for her God. Her personal philosophy when it came to hunting down the survivors of the Fog, was to offer them a swift and painless exit from this world of suffering. But with you laying at her feet, wheezing with blood and vomit coating your clothing, Adiris had to realize that she had failed, not only herself but you. She hadn’t effectively killed you and instead only added to your pain.

Adiris knew that you carried that burden of her weapon and she felt it tear her up inside. She hated herself and her lackluster ability to effectively kill you. She debated whether to try to kill you again. But the thought of even attempting such an act boiled her stomach and made her sick. You watched her from your position on the floor. There was a deep sense of sadness in her eyes, her shoulders lowered and it seemed she had lost her prideful demeanor. She looked pitiful and lost, like a child having been told Father Christmas isn’t real. After a moment of watching her for signs of aggression, Adiris finally moved. She knelt down and gently placed a hand on your back. She mumbled something to you that sounded like an apology before she quickly stuck her hands underneath you. Effortlessly the tall lady picked you up bridal style and set off in search of your teammates. In the distance, you spotted Nea working on the last-gen. Adiris also noticed the girl and with long, determined strides, brought you to her. Nea went to flee at the killer's approach, but when she saw you in her arms, carried like a baby, she stood her ground. Adiris dropped you at Nea’s feet and with one final look, walked away never to be seen again for the remainder of the trial.

[booksforevermore13]

Sherry Lips and Crystal Stars (Part II)

Summary: 'So, when they break away, and he looks at her, green to brown, she knows that he's the one. That in the end, he had always been the one.'

Ginny Weasley works on a strict owe-to-owe basis, but it's one person she can never fully repay. And she's always running from him. Always. Until Kaz Brekker needs her to recruit him for a highly coveted kidnapping.

Again, no knowledge of Shadow and Bone is required to read this :)

Part I is here.

Read it on Fanfiction or AO3 if you prefer!

...

PART II

v.

"Harry," she calls. "Harry, we need to go."

"No."

She turns, impatient, annoyed, irritated that he's stopped her just when they're just a metre away from the finishing line.

"What the hell do you mean by no?"

"You're not going with me, Gin," he says and frowns. "I'm sorry, Ginevra, Ginny…I-I can't let you come with me."

Her anger flares up at that, part of it because time's running out, and the other part because it's been years since she's been the girl who's stayed back and watched. Watched while everyone around her died. She's not about to bring that girl back anytime soon.

He doesn't have a right. He had absolutely no right telling her what she could or could not do.

"You don't get to tell me that," she scoffs and she's trying so hard to not yell, scream, curse at him. "You don't get to do that anymore."

"Do what?"

It's not the Harry she's used to, the Harry who doesn't fight back, who lets her do whatever the hell she wants. In a way, he's always done that.

"This," she points at her, then at him. "This, this whatever complex you have, to save me, to be the hero, I don't care about that, I don't give a shit about that, because I'm going to do whatever I damn well want to. And because I can."

"Hero? No-what, I," he stammered, "this is too dangerous, and I-I can't let you, you need y=to understand, Gin-"

"I don't understand. But what I do, is that, I'm not weak Ginny Weasley anymore, not the girl that needs protecting." She scoffs and steps forward. "I could kill you and no one would ever know."

She's saying whatever's coming to her mind, whatever crazy, pent-up thought she's thought of while alone with only herself as company, whatever pathetic, petty threat that's coming to her mind now and she doesn't know if it's her speaking or just that sick part of her telling her to hurt the boy who's only ever cared.

"Why don't you then?" he asks, and even though his face gives nothing away, it's his eyes that tells her he's hurt.

Ginny glares at him, for she doesn't know. If it had been anyone else, she'd have done it. But she can't kill him. Not because of the deal, but because she… she didn't know.

"I," she grits, "I hate you." It's her anger which fuels her as she cracks the wall, and she uses it, channels it, until she feels that familiar pull in her gut, and she knows it's close. It's that one brick she focuses on, and when she finds it, she wills it to break.

Ginny feels Harry's arm over her, pulling her towards the ground as the wall over them explodes into a thousand tiny million pieces.

She's up in a flash, and Harry's right behind her, and when she sees the first guard, it's Harry who acts first.

His fingers flick, and they hear the guard fall to the floor as they rush inside, through the rubble. It doesn't take them long to figure that they're surrounded, but they'd expected it. Planned for it.

But the only thing she's set on about is killing the man who had killed her.

Ginny hears a crazed cackle and turns around, and almost all out of a sudden, she feels her throat closing up, and it's unnatural, caused, and she gasps, her fingers clawing at her throat, gasping for air, and through blurry eyes, she can see, no, hear a woman laughing. Ginny hears Harry calling her name from behind her, but he's in a fight of his own.

She yells now, an animalistic roar, and it's sickening when she hears the ceiling crack, and relieving when the ceiling gives away. She gasps, falling to the floor as the ceiling falls in over the woman. She can breathe, she can, and when she hears Harry, calling her name again, she answers back.

"I'm fine."

Her nose feels wet, her mouth is filled with the taste of blood, and she has no idea if it's her own. But she keeps moving, her wrist snapping in harmony with the rubble.

And when she feels she's run out, she takes out her pistols, and they feel comforting against her palms, familiar, and when the revolver clicks into place, the familiar jerk backwards fills her with a sense of adrenaline she had run out of.

"Go," she shouts at Harry, and she curses when he keeps on fighting, ignoring her, as he flicked his fingers and stopped yet another man's heart.

"Go," she yells again. "For once in your life Harry, trust me and go!"

He doesn't look at her, but she knows he's listening. And then he's running, and she's glad he's decided to. It's one step in the right direction. To what, she didn't know.

Ginny doesn't know how long she keeps fighting, how long her bullets find aim, how long it's been since she'd run out of bullets, and she's coughing, struggling to breathe and she's tripping over wires, over broken bricks, parts of the wall.

Her limbs ache, her head's spinning, and she's running out of air. Blood's dripping down her nose, over her hands. They'd got her, but while fighting, she hadn't noticed. She's in pain, but she doesn't know if that's a good thing or a bad.

The pistol falls out of her hand, and her knees buckle when she sees him. Running. Fleeing.

It's the last guard she sees, but it's one she knows. It's one she's wanted to kill.

And kill she was going to.

She doesn't use the rubble, doesn't use her powers. For him, she stumbles forward, the Wraith's knife in hand. It's the first time she's taken it out, and she's kept it away, for him. For the Worm who'd killed her parents. For the Worm who'd destroyed her life.

He doesn't have time to run before the knife's lodged in his skull, and then it's out again, back in his heart and out again. She wishes she could do more, but her body's done. It's given up.

"I hope Marya," she gasps out, "sees you in," she falls, "in hell."

And as her eyes close, she wonders if she'd see her too.

vi.

"Let me down."

Her left side fires up as she tries to move, an action that only results with him tightening his hold on her. Ginny grunts, glaring up at Harry.

"I said, let me down."

He ignores her, and in a fit of anger, she slaps him, regretting it soon after, for it's her right side aching now. Harry looks down at her, and his eyes, this time, are clouded with anger, and for a moment there, Ginny realizes that if he wanted to, he could very well snap her spine before she knew it.

Leave her to die.

He'd be doing her a favour.

But he only adjusts his grip on her, taking the weight of her right side. "I don't get you," he mumbles, and his hands are careful as they slowly lower her to the ground. She grunts as her sides collide with the hard floor and pain shoots up her ribs, spreading to her chest, her arms. She feels Harry lifting her up again, and tries to glare at him, but this time, she's too weak to do so.

Ginny struggles as Harry gently pats her sides, even though his hands cause her no added pain. But she couldn't let him help her again, couldn't let him save her again.

"Can you stop doing that?" he barks, and his voice is rough, commanding, nothing like she'd heard before.

"No."

"Well, if you don't, your ribs might just rupture your lungs," he said, and Ginny frowns, freeing her hand and feeling up her sides.

To his credit, he's right, and a fresh wave of pain wracks through her body and she gasps as her hand falls limply by her body.

"Hey, hey," he lifts up her chin, her concerned green ones peering into her own. "Don't die on me, okay? Don't do it."

"At least then you'll be done with me," she gasps out and she can't bring herself to slap his hand away from her face. His hand is soft against his cheek, warm. Feels like home.

No.

It's his eyes which catch her attention for it's not concern that's shrouding them, like what was typical of him, it's anger.

"There's something very wrong with you."

"Tell me about it."

"Why are you so against me helping you?" he asks, and if she hadn't spent the last few years asking herself that very question, she would have not known the answer. So, this time, when she hears the question, said out loud, she ignores the red cuts littering his face, the bruises on his arm, brushes away her concern for him, and answers him, like she had answered herself, ages ago.

"Because you saved me," she says and she feels her eyes burning, just like everything else in her body. "Because you keep saving me over and over again – "

"I am allowed to save you. I am allowed to save you as many times as you need it," he roars. She feels something wet slide down her cheek, and realizes it's one of her tears. For the first time in a long time, Ginny struggles to keep the rest in place.

"Well, maybe," she says, and she hasn't ever hated herself more. "I don't want you to."

Harry looks away, and then he's squatting and picking her up again.

"What-what're you doing?"

He doesn't answer, and she doesn't have the energy to ask him the same question again.

Ginny lets her head fall back, and when she feels Harry going, she looks up to see a ramp.

"A ship?"

"A deal's a deal."

And perhaps, it's that statement that makes her head fall back again, because in the end, she knows that they were after all, just part of a deal.

vii.

The next time something wakes her up, it's the familiar lulling of the waves and the splash of the water against the ship's hull that does.

She's burning and the pain in her ribs and sides have lessened to a roaring hum. It's better than it was before, but it still hurts.

Ginny groans as she gets up, and in the dark, she can see Harry sleeping next to her in a chair, and just slightly stirring in his sleep.

It's the familiarity of the situation that overcomes her, and perhaps, his sleeping figure. Tousled raven hair, his hand keeping his head in place, his glasses a bit lopsided. But it's mostly because for a second, she feels that the Ginny she knew had come back.

"Go back to sleep," she whispers. His eyes snap open instead, and once again, he's alert.

"How do you feel?" he asks, and unconsciously, she gives him a once over for injuries. She knows he can handle himself, but even so, she can't help but look.

"Fine."

"I know, for a fact, that you're not 'fine'," he says, and she shakes her head, laughing slightly.

"You act as if you've figured me out, but you really haven't," she says, "I'm fine."

"Why do you keep lying to me?"

She doesn't answer, and he sighs, as if he hadn't expected her to. She's disappointed, hurt, and she doesn't know why, and when he checks her side again, it's not the first time she realizes he's only ever cared.

In all sincerity, he always has, even after his parents were killed, even when hers were too. He's always just been there, and she thinks that perhaps, she'd not been running from him, she'd been running from her.

"Why do you keep doing this?" she whispers to him, as he gently lifts her shirt to check underneath the bandage. He's never given a reason, not once.

Harry looks up at her at that, and it's only now she's realising how close they are. Once, she had been taller than him, but that had been forever ago.

"They need me up there," he whispers back, and then he's gone, her bandages in place, her shirt pulled down to her waist.

Or perhaps, she hadn't been running from her or him, she had been running from both of them.

viii.

When the ship stops, he comes back again. Ginny's awake, she's been awake for the past hour, going in and out of consciousness. It's the sound of the Volcra that keeps her up, but because she's been lying so alert, she knows that none of them actually come near the ship.

Once, she'd considered going up above deck, and she had very nearly done so, before she'd realized that her going up there would just make her a liability, much less an asset.

It's why they travel without Fabrikators. One: because they make too much noise and two: because they can't kill Volcra unless it's with part of the boat.

It's a wonder how Harry's managed to smuggle her in, that too, with her identity kept secret, but she supposes, it's what one got with killing a mercher with influence, one who had left people in debts for decades, adding interest at a rate considered impossible to wipe off the records.

This time, when he comes back and offers his hand to her, she takes it, but doesn't know why.

He's there when her knees buckle upon contact with land, and he's there by her side, every time she winces in pain.

Ginny feels guilty he has to do this, look after her, when they could be doing so much more but it's the thought that they'd never have to meet again after this, that keeps her going.

But it's the same thought which makes her heart clench, and her throat jam up.

It's terrifying.

"What's next?" Harry asks when they are a few hundred metres away from the ship. She's insisted on walking, even though every time she steps forward, her right side fires up.

"We meet up with Brekker and his girl."

"Where?"

"The cemetery."

She remembers her promise to her. Inej's knife is tucked in underneath her belt, the blood cleaned from it.

Ginny feels Harry's hand on the small of her back, steering her away from the crowd and she looks up at him, an eyebrow raised.

"I don't know the full story yet," he explains as the Cemetery comes into sight. For a second, she's surprised yet again at how trusting he could be, choosing to follow her, even when he didn't know what was happening.

She doesn't know if she should be furious or grateful.

"What do you think?" she says. "It's Brekker."

"He wants our help stealing something."

She laughs, for when said like that, it sounded ridiculous. Or perhaps, it's just her nerves acting up, or her going barmy. She wonders how he'd react when she tells him what happens next.

"We're going to break into the Little Palace."

"Oh. Hang on. We're going to break into….," he stops, grasps her upper-arm, keeps her in place. "What?"

Ginny laughs and then covers her mouth. "Sorry, it's just," she snorts. "I'd expected that."

"Why are we going to break into the most guarded place in Ravka?" he hisses.

"To kidnap the Sun Summoner."

"What?"

She realizes they'd never really discussed this new buzzing area of interest, one she'd done with Kaz. Them two had shared the same equation; they both didn't believe, but maybe Harry did.

"Gin," Harry says, and she felt she needed to laugh again, by the panic in his eyes. He'd killed the one of the most influential merchers in the land, but it didn't make him any less shocked. But what surprised her was the fact that her name, it didn't bother her anymore. "Sorry, Ginny," and her face falls again, "just….how does he expect us to do that?"

"We're the backup plan."

"We're the what?"

"He'll explain," she says, and she begins pulling him to the cemetery. He's stumbling behind her, and she knows that there's a thousand different possibilities going through his head now, but it was unlikely he'd arrive at the right one.

After all, it was Kaz.

When they reach there, they are the first ones to. Kaz is nowhere in sight. Ginny can't help but worry, for she knows he's travelling with a bunch madder than hers truly, and can't help but wonder if they'd well, died.

"I can't think of anything," Harry admits, and she laughs. Ungraciously (and disrespectfully), she sits atop a white slab, completely and utterly mindful of the fact that there might be a rotting corpse beneath it.

It's crude, but she doesn't care. The man, no, the woman, was dead, and she might have liked her when she was alive, but she was dead.

Harry raises an elegant eyebrow at her, and she shrugs, offering her a place beside her.

"It's either you sit, or you do whatever you're doing right now."

He shakes his head in exasperation, hesitates and then takes the seat.

"Can't always be chivalrous now, can we?" she teases lightly and he smiles.

"I'm sitting on the grave of a dead man…..woman, I think chivalrous is a bit far-fetched."

"Oh, I beg to differ."

She can't think of anything more to say, so she stays silent, hoping he'd continue talking. But he doesn't, and she's disappointed, because oddly, she just really wants to talk.

And then he does.

"Do you?" he asks and she looks at him, and he continues. "Do you hate me?"

And then she's back in her sorry corner of the world, wondering how the hell she should answer that.

"I…." she admits, "I don't think so."

And then, because she wants to keep talking, she asks. "Do you?"

When Harry looks at her, his eyes shining with sorrow, she wonders if he'd say yes. She wouldn't blame him.

But when he finally speaks, she feels that hating her would have been easier to face. "No," he says, "I don't hate you. I just hate that after all this, you're still trying to lie to me."

"Y-you think I'm lying to you about hating you?"

"No. But you lie about a lot of things.

Ginny can't help but look away. She couldn't bear looking at him.

"What-what happened between us?"

We grew apart, she wants to say.

We grew apart, so that I couldn't get close to you, so that I couldn't get hurt when you decide to leave me. When you die.

But that last part? She couldn't even begin to think that without screaming at someone.

"We grew apart," she finally says but she leaves out the rest, her voice cold, unforgiving. "And at this point, I'm glad."

He doesn't react to that, but then after a while, he says. "You're lying again."

She doesn't look at him, because he's right, she is lying and it…hurts. Ginny keeps her eyes on the roses growing by them and then feels his finger gently cupping her chin, lifting her face to face his. She doesn't struggle, but she's taken aback by the ferocity in his eyes, waves bashing against the rocks.

"This will be the last time you lie to me."

And it's once again her eyes burn with unshed tears, and she suddenly knows why she hates him.

It's because he keeps making her feel like this.

Ginny clears her throat, gets up, and she's not facing him when they hear footsteps. When she turns around, it's Kaz, arriving too late to be considered passable.

"Where's Inej?" she asks, relieved they'd made it here in one piece.

"Where's her knife?"

She's passing it over to him before he has even finished his question. Ginny's aware of Harry standing behind her, and even more so when Kaz's eyes travel up to him.

"Potter."

"Brekker."

It's a bare acknowledgement, but at the moment, that's all they have time for.

"I trust you've told him everything he needs to know."

Ginny nods.

"Then you two are going to play a game of Quidditch."