#'cause why you gotta butcher her like this?

[the-kr8tor]

Starlight and Seafoam

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 6.9k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, TW blood, CW food mentions, TW death, CW injury.

Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

Navigation

CHAPTER 10 >>> CHAPTER 11

The street is bustling and teeming with people as you pay for the new mortar and pestle that you've been saving for a long time. The coins clink on the counter as you drop it on the wood. You hate to see your hard earned money go but you're glad that you have your very own mortar and pestle in exchange.

“Careful now it's heavy.” The old shopkeeper smiles at you.

“I've got it, thank you!” You heave the heavy stone in your small arms, waddling towards the door, struggling to open it with both arms occupied, a kind gentleman opens it for you and you smile politely, your mother didn't raise you to be rude after all. “Thank you, sir.”

“You're welcome.” The stranger says with a gruff voice, his large frame casts a shadow over you, fancy clothes making you gawk. Gold threads sewed into the finest cloth. His brown eyes only spares you a quick once over, tufts of chestnut hair flowing in the breeze, chiseled face turning towards the shopkeeper.

Walking out of the store, the door shuts closed behind you. Eyes still glued to the rich man, someone taps you on your shoulder.

“Careful, kid, that one can and will buy you if you don't stop gawking.” Sherry, an old neighbor of yours warns you. Her husband shushes her, eyes rolling at her gossiping. “Don't you shush me, Mickey, I'm right y’know!”

“The bloke's right there, love!” Mickey whisper shouts, he turns towards a customer, scowl disappearing, smiling politely over the vegetable stand.

You notice some people whisper too, from the butcher across the street to the florist on your right. Their main topic is the mysterious rich man in the store you just left.

Sherry clicks her tongue, slyly beckoning you over, whispering close in your ear. She smells of lettuce and cigars.

“Listen, girl,” you nod, trusting the adult. “you better get home ‘cause word around town is that wanker right there is a skin trader.” She says the word with malice. “See his fancy dancy clothes? He got ‘em from selling children like yourself.”

“What's a skin trader?” You ask, eyes wide and concerned. The mortar and pestle gets heavier in your arms.

“Didn't dear old mum warn you about ‘em?”

“Stop scaring the poor child, Sher.” her husband warns, busy with a line of customers while his wife gossips with a thirteen year old.

“This ‘ere is a private conversation, Mickey!” She turns back towards you, “Jus’ be careful, kiddo. I like you, you've got ‘em magic hands with them herbs. I don't want you gettin' sold off to a noble house, yeah?” you nod, “Stay away from him and you'll be good.” Shrugging, she pats your head.

“I don't think my mum would sell me.” You say with a small voice, fingers grazing over your necklace that's tucked under your blouse.

She scoffs, “tell that to little John, he was sold off for a bag of coins a few days ago.”

“Sher.” Mickey warns as your blood runs cold.

You know John, you've played with him a few times even though he runs his mouth like a sailor. Now you know why you haven't seen him around town. Nerves alight, you stay away from the shop's door.

Home calls for you, but you still have other errands to run.

“I've gotta go, thank you, Sherry.” You start to walk away with heavy strides and worry written on your face. She won't do that right? You thought. She loves me like her own, she can't— won't do that to me.

Mickey calls you back, “oh Y/N, grab a few of these for you and your mum, yeah? I know they're your favourite.” he smiles, putting a handful of cherry tomatoes inside the mortar.

“Thank you!” You smile, “It's her favourite too!”

“Aye, I know.”

His wife slaps him upside the head, “the fuck you mean ‘you know?’”

You leave before you get stuck in the middle of their argument. In your peripheral, you see the well dressed man leave the store without buying anything, he walks over to Sherry and Mickey. You don't stay long to hear their conversation.

—

Despite hurrying home, you end up walking towards the cabin with the sun already setting. Leaves crunch under your foot as you yawn, but your smile stays on your lips, happy enough that you have your newly purchased instrument in your arms, even though it's extremely heavy combined with the old canvas bags on your shoulder full of supplies you and your mother needed for the rest of the month.

Finally seeing the small cabin makes you weary, wanting to lay down in bed until she calls you for supper. Based on the smoke billowing from the chimney, you guess she already started cooking for dinner.

The heavy door creaks open as you push it open with your shoulder. “Mum, Mickey gave us cherry tomatoes! And you can't believe what I just heard—”

You freeze in the doorway, your mortar and pestle falls in your arms, clanging loudly on the wooden floor, it splits in half as the cherry tomatoes tumbles out of the mortar.

There he stands, the same well dressed man handing your guardian that you call mother, loved like your own mother, hugged like your own mother a bag of coins. They both pause in their movements.

The man cages you with his stare, an unreadable expression on his face, hazel eyes reflecting the fire in the hearth, turning it to crimson.

“Mum?” you frown, tears brimming in your eyes.

She can't, she won't but she still did it.

“Y/N, this is—”

“How could you?” You ask, broken, heart left split in half like the mortar on the floor.

She looks at you apologetically, hand reaching towards you instinctively. Your home seems to suffocate you.

The man exhales sharply like he's in pain. “I passed by her a few hours ago. She looks just like—”

You don't let him finish.

Bolting away with only the clothes on your back and the spare change in your pockets, you run as fast as you can without looking back.

“Love?” Hobie says it tenderly that you thought he was calling for someone else, again. “Love?” He calls a bit louder.

Hobie wakes you up back to reality, back to his hold. His thumb wipes the tears sliding down your cheeks, eyes glazing over. He sits on the edge of the pool, the fire next to him warming his drenched clothes whilst you float with only his hand anchoring you near him.

“I'm sorry.” He whispers.

You twist around in the water, arms placed on the ground next to him, fingers twisting around the frayed thread on his pants. Chin resting atop your elbow, you watch the fire crackle and burn timber.

Hobie's hands slide over to your nape, caressing softly, hoping it would make up for what you've lived through. He knows it doesn't, but he still wants to try.

After minutes of silence and listening to your soft sniffles, the warmth of the afternoon sun and fire illuminating your deep frown and tear stained cheeks. Hobie breaks the quiet.

“MJ—” for a second you thought he's calling you by her name again, and it shatters your heart all over again. “She…she was—”

“Don't tell me just because I told you mine.” You look up at him with sadness underneath your eyes. “Only tell me when you're ready.” He nods, squeezing you in thanks. “I told you mine because someone else has to know, just in case—”

Hobie knits his eyebrows. “In case of what?”

In case I die, in case I decide to stay on the island and you leave. In case, in case. You have a lot of them but you spare him the heartache. He'd do the same. Someone has to know your story, that's how you can live forever, you remember her old words.

You shake your head, “nothing.”

He understands, “alright, keep your secrets.” flicking his eyes down, he observes your fingers mindlessly playing with its thread. “Stop tryin’ to take my trousers off, you can just ask.”

You chuckle softly, the first time he's heard it since you sobbed in his arms a week ago.

“You wish, Hobie.”

He dramatically clasps his hands together, eyes closed like he's in prayer. “I wish Y/N would just ask me to take my trousers off.” He laughs, almost not finishing his own joke because of it.

You pinch his leg, earning a yelp from the pirate captain. “You always say something that ruins the moment.”

“You were chuffed though”

“Mm-hmm.”

He looks towards the beach right in between the trees. “It's finally low tide. C’mon, scuttlebutt, I've got somethin' to show you.” He stands up, giving you a helping hand.

“I swear if it's another pair of crabs fucking—”

“That was one time, get up or we might get stranded.”

“We're already stranded.” he frowns at your words.

You've been down since the night you cried in his arms. He's worried, properly so, used to the embers in you, used to the loud banter, it's only right that he worries. You're on your last legs, everything that has happened managed to catch up to you, and for him it's crawling up his neck like a swarm of ants, biting and nipping at him. But you're the priority, his priority, if you fall then he would tumble harder, landing on his face with a sickening crunch.

He doesn't mind, not finding it cumbersome, because you'd do the same for him too. Or he hopes you will.

Hobie has tried everything to make you feel better, caught fish the right way even though it made his blood boil with impatience and frustration. Shot at a seagull with the last of his bullets for a variety of meat that only made you sob for how tough it was. Not even chocolate can brighten your mood nowadays. He even postponed leaving the island until you're back to your usual self. But he knows you two can't stay here forever or the ants might finally reach his head, gnawing at his cheek, eating through his skin. Or worse, kill the fire inside you.

As a last resort, he has thought of a plan, although it's a gamble, a toss of a coin, whether or not it might make you feel worse or better then it all depends on how he acts. Hope is his main choice of weapon yet hope can kill you too.

Hobie huffs, crouching down to face you. His voice is soft. “We're not stranded, we're leaving tomorrow but before we do I have somethin’ to show you.” You look up at him with a frown.

You don't even want to leave anymore. What's waiting for you once you get on land? Nothing, nothing's waiting for you, just more longing for a family you might have and you might never have. And you're frightened at what awaits you.

“Do you want to really leave?” You ask forlornly.

“As much as I love our days here surviving, we have to leave eventually.” He's not sure either, he wants to stay with you but he has responsibilities to the crew and you. He knows you can't stay here or he might never see the fire blaze inside you again. “All I know is my crew might be waitin’ for us, yeah? Now get up.”

Might and Us, the words are a mind killer for you recently.

“Y/N, I know it's hard,” he cups the back of your head. “But you have to stand up, could you do that for me? I'll walk with you the entire time, I promise.”

“What if—?”

“Don't, remember what I told you? Don't let ‘em kill you for the second time.” His eyes bore into you. “Please? C’mon you even got me sayin’ please.”

With an exhale, you manage to clasp your hand in his. Hobie lifts you up to your feet. Water sloshes as you leave the pool, clothes drenched, air making you shiver.

“You hang around me too much.” Hand still in his, he leads you out to the eastern side of the island. “You've become too polite.”

“Is that supposed to be horrible?” Hobie takes his hand away for a moment to grab his vest that's hanging from a branch. “You're not even that polite.” he drapes it over your shoulders, taking your hand back in his hand.

Your heart thuds loudly in your chest, his scent clinging to you like the heat on your cheeks. You put your arms inside, wearing his vest proudly like a medal. Laying your cheek on his shoulder, he laces his fingers around yours, squeezing it tenderly.

It all seems natural to you now, all the wordless affection and care that you both act upon. You know this won't last the moment you two leave the island. So you savour it as much as you can, letting all of it linger in your mind, tucking it away until you need to relive it along the way.

“I'm polite,” you walk on soft leaves to grainy sand, the low tide providing a way towards a smaller island with rocky terrain. The sun beams just behind it, it's a beautiful sight but Hobie's eyes are on you. “If I want to.”

“Sure you are.”

He moves your intertwined hands behind him so he could exchange it with his unoccupied hand, holding you close. Like a moth to a flame, you half embrace him, hand on top of his waist, grasping softly at his skin, memorizing every indent. His warmer hand rests atop yours, while the other has managed to snake around your shoulder, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

Like broken pieces of a shattered glass, you fit together.

Hobie drowns in all of you. Your scent and touch leaving a mark on him, not like a scar that says that you've hurt him in the past, no, it's much more like a wound, a wound that he'd gladly let fester just so he can revisit you, revisit how you look like when you smile or cry, revisit how your soft palms touches his marred flesh.

He'd poke, prod and bleed the wound just to feel your touch again.

It's a lot harder to walk entangled together on the sandy bridge that connects your island to the other, but you two don't seem to mind as you leave your footprints on the sand.

“We have a couple of hours to explore before high tide or we'll get stuck here for an entire day.”

Would that be so bad?

You hum, “explore what?” Voice muffled by his shirt, he rubs softly at your upper arm, warming you.

“You'll see, I know you'll like it.”

“Great, you're gonna kill me.” You joke monotonously.

“Never,” he whispers into your hair. “I'd do it on our island instead.”

You chuckle, “how would you do it?”

“Stake to the heart.” You almost didn't understand him whilst his face is buried in your hair. “Classic.”

“Or you could choke me with the pomegranate seeds.”

“You'd like that, huh?” you can feel his smirk atop your head and you swear he kissed you faintly like a feather landing on you.

“I don't mind dying by fruit. Better yet, death by chocolate.”

“I'd mind, it would be hard to do that. Just think of the bloody logistics.” you two stop walking, finally reaching the tiny patch of land.

“For a second there I thought you didn't want me to die.” He leans away, hand still clasped in yours.

“That too.” You smile at him genuinely. Hobie enters the crevice in the wall, jagged rocks against his calloused hands. “C’mon then.” He holds his hand out to you and you don't hesitate to take it.

“Oh you're definitely gonna kill me.”

His laugh bounces around the cavern as you two shimmy towards the light at the far end of the tight alcove. Darkness soon envelops your vision. His piercings shine, acting as your guide. Like a ship to a lighthouse.

“It's a bit dark, Hobie.” Your voice echoes, concern laced in your voice. Not questioning your trust in him but concerned for what the dark could reveal to you.

“I've got you, just keep holding on to me, yeah?”

You sniff a reply, the dampness from the stone makes your nose itch from the musk.

Your feet splashes on a puddle, almost yelping at the sudden wetness. He holds on to you tighter while the rocks scratch at your back.

Hobie pauses before making way for you to pass through, making sure you don't trip on the way out.

The light almost blinds you as you finally make it to the end. Eyes adjusting, you squint at Hobie's gleeful face.

“We're here.”

Just behind Hobie is a massive ship, half of its hull is missing, mast broken, white sails fluttering aimlessly. There's something eerie about it, from how the sun's light filters through the cracks in the cavern ceiling, to the chipping golden paint that decorates the sides; barnacles have made a home on the broken bottom and crabs skittering away to its crevices. The sodden wood is inflated from the currents, wear and tear evident on its oak. It's gorgeously morbid when you think about the people who might've perished right there.

“Whose ship is this?” Your words echoes and bounces off the cave. You'd be lying if you didn't think it was the revenge for a split second, if not for its unfamiliar figure head, you'd collapse right on the spot.

“Don't know, I think It's navy but it doesn't have their flags so probably a merchant ship.” He comes closer to you, palm brushing over yours. “Look over there.” He glances behind you.

Turning around, you see several tally marks on the wall, an indication that someone survived. You glide your hands carefully over the marks, eyes curious and in disbelief.

“I counted, they were here for six months.”

You whirl around, “six? Fuck.”

“They got out though.”

You knit your brows. “How'd you know?”

“Come with me?”

“To the ship? It looks like it's about to collapse any second.”

“I tried climbing it, it's stable.” Hobie reaches for you, and again you take his hand.

“If I fall I'll blame you.”

“Thought you're good at climbin’?”

“Houses and trees, not a dilapidated ship that's more than ready to be scrapped. That thing looks older than us combined.”

“Fine, I'll climb up first and I'll help you up. Deal?”

“Christ, fine, but you owe me the rest of the chocolate.” you watch him climb a crate, effortlessly reaching the ledge of the deck, hauling himself up quicker than you thought. “Show off.” You say under your breath.

“Heard that.” Hobie peeks down, “the chocolate's all yours, now get your arse up here.” he crouches down, hands at the ready to help you up.

Copying his movements, you jump up, he immediately grabs you. Putting your foot up in a crack for leverage and with Hobie's help, you manage to get up onto the deck.

You sit next to him, stretching your wrists.

“See, not too bad, right?” The wood creaks right as he says it. “Maybe we shouldn't sit or stand on the same floor board.” He stands up but before giving you space to lessen the strain on the old wood, he helps you up once again.

“Thanks, I can stand up on my own y’know.” Yet you still take his hand.

“I know, I just don't like it when you're on the ground, you always look like you're about to bite my ankles.”

You laugh and he smiles triumphantly. The sound echoes, it reminds Hobie of the days spent together on the revenge.

“That's true, It takes every bone in my body not to.”

He smiles lopsidedly, shaking his head at you. “I have to show this to you.” He exclaims excitedly. “Just be careful of where you step.”

You pause in your movements, “shit, alright.” testing the floorboards, you slowly clamber your way towards him. “How'd you even find this place? Did you go spelunking without me?”

“Found it on our second day, thought you wouldn't like to see a broken ship like this so soon.”

You smile softly at him, heart reaching towards him and he thinks he chose right.

Hobie opens a barrel, “Look at this, found it when I actually explored the place.”

You take a peek inside, hands leaning on the barrel. “Dried pomegranates? Look at that, your murder weapon.” flicking your eyes towards him, a teasing smile on your lips.

He huffs with a grin, hands placed on his hips. “So violent. You've been hanging around me too much eh, captain?”

“Hmm, I like the sound of that, Captain Y/N. It has a nice ring to it” chuckling, your hands instinctively inch over to his. He meets you halfway on the rim of the barrel, pinky intertwined with yours. “You wanna sleep separately from now on? Since we spend too much time together and all that.”

Hobie scoffs, sucking in his teeth. “Please, you can't sleep without me now.”

It's true, you've spoiled yourself with his warmth next to you every night.

Rolling your eyes, feigning offense, you change the subject. “What's with the pomegranates?”

“They planted it, using their own supplies.”

“Cute, they left a piece of themselves on the island.”

“More than that, because of ‘em we get to eat the fruit they planted. They helped us survive.”

You shake your head, “no, you helped us survive. You did all the work, Hobie.” Taking his hand, standing toe to toe with him, you stare at his eyes for too long that you drown in his eyes. “I never got to thank you for…everything. Thank you, captain, truly.”

His breath hitches in his throat. Warmth emanating from you, eyes sparkling under the sparse light and sand clinging to your hair, he feels himself carve your name on his skin; right next to hers, right next to the scar she left.

“I rendered the great Captain Hobie Brown speechless. I think I deserve some kind of medal for that—”

Hobie cups your cheeks with both hands, leaning in, the act has you shutting up immediately.

You hear wood cracking underneath your feet. You were above deck then a second later, you're groaning on the floor, laying on his chest, facing a skeleton.

“Oh fuck!” You flinch back, Hobie holds you in place with a hand on your waist. Straddling him, you look at the decaying skeleton on the floor. “Shit—” you notice the body under you. “Oh shit!” Holding his face, you roam your eyes for any visible injuries.

“You should write poetry, you have a way with words.” He says with a wince, peeking at you through his eyelashes, he pats your thigh and you get off his aching body.

“Are you alright?” you ask frantically, checking the back of his head for blood, thankfully you find none. Panic sets in your bones, crawling on all fours, you smack his leg.

“Ow! What the fuck was that for?” Hobie sits up, with his legs moving, you can finally breathe.

“I thought your legs—” the wood creaked above, eyes widening at the barrel tethering on the edge, threatening to fall.

With Hobie still shaky from the fall, you grab him quickly, dragging him away from the falling object at the last minute before it collapses on both of you.

He grips your arm, staring at the space where you two were just in a second ago. The heavy barrel now occupies it, dried pomegranates spilling out from the split wood.

“Holy fuck.” He heaves.

You drop next to him, sliding down on the rotten walls. “Holy fuck is the right word for it.” he cranes his neck to look at you. “Death by pomegranates.”

You two watch your faces morph into a smile then into a grin and then to full blown laughter.

The loud noise scares the crabs away, dust flies around and there's splintered wood laying on the floors. Despite it all, you and Hobie continue to laugh. His head laying on your chest, hand around your middle and the vibrations from his chest making you laugh harder. With your hands around his torso, fingers splayed on his back, the both of you meld together in laughter.

“Mystery solved, that's how I could die by pomegranates. Take notes, Hobie.”

He inhales before leaning away, “you saved my arse.”

“Well you saved me too, we're even.”

Hobie thumps his head on the wall just like you have. His hand searches for yours while he stares at the skeleton left next to the barrel.

You find him first before he does, immediately weaving your fingers around his, you smile despite the near death experience.

“How would you do it?” He breaks the quiet.

“Do what?” you turn your head to look at him, he's calm, face relaxed.

“Kill me.”

“Hobie—” you groan.

“Humour me, love.”

“Fine,” you sigh, “poison probably.”

“Poison? Really?” Chuckling, he clasps your hand. Your stomach somersaults at the simple act.

“Mm-hmm, I figured that I can't possibly fight you, I can't shoot you so I'd do it in a subtle way. So, poison.”

“Fuckin' hell, I'll never let you cook.” Hobie turns his head towards the skeleton again like it would suddenly stand up and attack.

“You never let me cook anyway.”

“It's because you always burn it.”

“‘It's because you always burn it’” you mock his tone, “fuck off.”

Hobie guffaws which makes you laugh too.

The laughter subsides once again, he taps your thigh, leaving his warmth embedded in you.

“He has a nice hat,” groaning, Hobie stands up, stretching his back, giving you a glimpse of his skin.

You turn away, watching the pomegranate seeds tumble down. “Who?”

“This bloke.” He bends down, taking a tricorn hat off the dirty floor. “See? There's even a bird on it. Is that silver thread?”

“Let me see.” You stretch your hand up, he lifts you up with one tug.

“There, stitched around the bird.” Hobie points at the fading design.

You can barely make out the emblem, its beak barely there and wings almost indistinguishable. The silver thread weaves around it, the only fully visible thing.

Brushing the pads of your fingers around it, you tilt your head at Hobie. “I think it is, and it's incredibly filthy. Put it back, it's been here for more than twenty years or more.”

“How would you know?” He stares at you, perplexed.

“Judging from the decay,” you gesture around the skeleton, figuring it's too rude to point at it. “and adding the fact it's exposed to the elements, it's been here a long ass time.”

Hobie’s eyes brighten, “you fuckin' bookworm.”

Sticking your tongue at him, cheeks warm, “How'd you know the survivors got out of the island then?”

He shrugs, hands still holding the musty hat. “They left a note on top of a couple of graves just behind the ship.”

“Bullshit, now you're just making shit up.”

He chuckles, the sound similar to a giggle. “‘m not lyin’, cross my heart!”

“Sure, and I'm a selkie.” Sarcasm rolls off your tongue, “I'm going outside.” You begin to walk away, finding the space stifling from all the dust and death that surrounds it.

He quickly places the hat on top of your head and you jump away, flinging it off your head then throwing it at the perpetrator.

“What?” He laughs, “It looks better on you! He clearly doesn't need it anymore!” joking, he tries to put it on you again and you push him away as a warning.

Your smile betrays your true emotion. “Don't—”

“Alright” Hobie surrenders, placing the hat back where he found it, hands next to his head, he slyly inches towards you.

“Thank you, now can we go? High tide’s coming—”

He suddenly lunges for you, picking you up as you yelp and wiggle in his arms. His arm is underneath your knees, the other is around your torso, hands placed right above your ribs. You drown in him once again. Cackling, he walks towards the hole in the wall.

“Put me down!” you bunch up his shirt in your hands, “Hobie!”

“What? I'm taking you outside, it's clearly not safe here, love!” Your squirming has him holding onto you tighter. He grins widely, carefully squeezing out of the broken hull and into the light and fresh air.

Being this close to him, you notice the small dimples on his cheeks. Restraining yourself from poking it, you can't help but stare up at him like he's the sea himself. Deep and full of secrets, secrets that you're more than willing to dive for. A terrifying force on the surface but once you're underneath the tides, you see his true self, all the love he harbors for the people, all the hate that has made him who he is.

With his waves crashing against you, he smoothens your edges with his touch, if you're not careful, he'd erode you until you're nothing but a speck of sand.

Hands atop his shoulders, Hobie stops laughing the second he sees your eyes gleam over, nails digging into his shoulders, leaving half moons on his skin. He doesn't mind, he'd let you mark him if that's what you truly want.

“You alright?” He whispers, staring down at you like the sky above, beautiful and out of reach, a cloud soft and fleeting, stars that guide him in the night. A hurricane that has sunk ships. He thinks he's one of those ships.

You wonder if he used to look at her like this too. Your hold on him loosens.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You say, voice quivering. His face goes slack, eyebrows furrowed. “Like I'm her, you know I'm not her.”

You've struck him with lightning.

You leap off his arms, wobbling on your feet. He stretches his fingers, ghosting over the shape you've left.

“What do you mean?” He asks even though he's afraid of what you're going to say.

You smile bitterly. “I remind you of her. And I'm not her, Hobie.”

“I— where is this coming from?”

Sniffing and shaking your head, “nevermind” you begin to walk towards the exit.

“Y/N,” Hobie grabs your hand, letting go immediately when you flinch like he has burned you. “Not bloody nevermind, what's wrong?”

Gwen and Hobie's arguing finally escapes its cage, their angry words thrown at each other have finally eaten through the back of your head, revealing a wound that hasn't closed. Together with the numerous times he has called her name instead of yours, you collapse under all of it.

He loves her and not you.

You avoid the swirling greys, arms crossed, head down, staring at your worn out shoes. It's better this way you think, cut it off like a lame limb before it spreads to your heart. You're letting him go, and it pains your soul to do so.

“You only like me because of the circumstances.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Hobie's not mad at you, he's angry at the conversation and the idea that you've dug up.

Does he? Does he only like you because of her? Did he only let you in at the start because of her? He only knows what he currently feels for you right now.

“You like me because of the circumstances! If we weren't stuck here together you wouldn't be.” A thunderstorm has broken through.

“After all this time together do you really think that?” He asks the question for you and for himself.

Your hands shake, tears almost spilling over. You don't let it, not in front of him. “You tolerate me.” twisting to face him, you regret the words you've thrown, but it has to be said or the relationship would've been built on lies and love for another. “You called me by her name when I fell and when you slept. I–I don't know, Hobie, I really don't know.”

There it is, the knife that was made to split skin and bleed. Instead of Hobie holding it, it's you. But he helps you bury the steel in his body, helping you twist it, helping you bleed him.

“You were there?” You nod, “I— you do remind me of her… it's uncanny sometimes.” You stifle a sob, head held up high. “And I don't fuckin' know, Y/N. All I know is I like you despite the bloody circumstances.”

Hobie closes his eyes, rubbing it with the heels of his palms. “I'll see you back at the island.” He leaves, and you just watch.

Falling to the ground, you hug your knees, letting it all crumble around you.

—

You haven't slept, bags under your eyes, headache pounding in your head, the sound of soil getting dug out behind you has become a comfort not a nuisance.

You haven't looked at the source of the sound since he started, letting his quiet curses and groans fill you with sadness and guilt. With the sun rising, and a new day coming, you sit up, palms raw from your clenched fists.

He tried to do something nice and you threw it back at him with venom.

Heading towards the shore, kneeling down, you let the salt wash over the crescent wounds. Wincing at the stinging pain, you lift your hands away from the water, lingering, watching the sun rise with heavy eyes. The humidity stifles you, choking you almost.

You clutch at your chest, imagining that your necklace is still hanging around your neck. Wishing for the comfort it brings, but the gold isn't there and the only comfort you have is now cold around you, avoiding your presence since yesterday. The closest thing you have is the pearl in your pocket, so you place your hand inside, rolling the smooth edges around your fingers, letting the cool surface ease you.

With a shaky sigh, you trudge towards the grove, grass grazing along your legs, you stand stiff at the sight.

Graves, he's digging graves.

Covered in dirt and sweat, Hobie digs a hole in the ground using a sharp stick. Lips wobbling, you let a tear fall before wiping it away.

“Hobie.” You call his name softly, voice breaking. He doesn't look up, you notice his arms shaking from fatigue. “Hobie.”

He pauses mid dig, “what?” Asking sharply, his eyes are dark, worse for wear. “Don't ask me to stop, Y/N, because I won't.”

“I was gonna ask if you needed help—want my help.”

Hobie tosses a stick at you, “this is the last one.”

Nodding, you grab the stick from the ground. Jumping down the hole, you wordlessly dig across him. The rough wood opens the scratches on your palms, dribbles of blood rolling down like the tears you've shed.

“Is this Finn's?” you ask with apprehension.

Nothing.

“Ned’s?”

Still nothing, he swallows thickly.

“Mine?”

Hobie stops, sighing, “Do you really think I can do that just because of yesterday?” Do you think he is a monster?

“No. I was trying to lift the mood, I realize now it's in poor taste.”

“I would have laughed if we weren't digging a grave.”

“Graveyard humour.” you say flatly, stabbing the ground, digging even when your palms bleed, even when your blood falls inside the grave.

Hobie exhales, eyes heavy with fatigue, dirt underneath his nails.

“You want to stay.” he says with certainty, cutting the uncomfortable silence.

“I do.”

“You won't survive here alone.”

“I know.”

“Then we'll come back here, once everything is said and done.” He looks at you, “we'll come back here.”

“Hobie—”

His eyes flicker down to your hands, the stick now red from your own hands. “You're bleedin’”

With concern he drops the makeshift shovel to cross the small distance, slowly taking your hands away from the tool. Your skin clings to it like the roots of a tree.

“It's fine.”

Hobie clutches your hands, palms above your own, trying to stop the bleeding. “No, it's not.” No, you're not fine.

“It's just from…everything. I'll clean them so they don't get infected.” you try to leave but he still holds you tight.

“I'll clean it.” Let me help, please. He screams inside his head. Just this once, let him stop the blood instead of the one bleeding you dry.

You glance at him, lines marring his face, grey eyes laid upon a bloodied field. Lips pursed into worry.

“Alright.”

—

The silence makes you squirm in your seat, watching the waves on the shore, you let him clean your hands, trust him to clean your wounds.

Hobie carefully wraps your hands with a tattered part of his shirt. He smells of the familiar herbs and soil, eyes glued to your bandaged hands, he finally speaks.

“She was killed in front of me.” His voice lacks the usual tone, grief weaved around the sentence. “When the black helion sailed next to us I knew that she was already gone.”

You look at him, it's the least you could do.

“She called for me while Mathias had his sword right next to her neck. And I cowered under the deck until she asked with a smile if she could see me.”

Listening with tears in your eyes, Hobie avoids yours.

“The second I showed myself…he cut off her head. At first I thought it was her last attempt at hurting me, seeing her dead. But after a while I… I think she wanted me to be the last thing she ever saw because she grinned like she used to when she saw me.”

He raises his head to meet your tearful eyes, “Mary Jane, that was her real name.” He chokes before inhaling deeply. “An orphan like me but she got the wrong end of the bloody stick.” He spits the words angrily. “She wanted an out, that's why she went to Mathias. We fought when she told me she was navy, but I knew…I think I just didn't want to believe it.”

Your heart breaks for him.

“I want to avenge her not just for MJ but for everyone else who got the wrong end of the bloody stick. Thirty of my men died that day, I can grieve for them everyday for the rest of my life but it wouldn't be enough. It will never be enough.”

Hobie lets your hands go softly on your lap.

“It's better to be angry than to wallow in myself. They wouldn't like that if I did so I let myself be angry for their sake.”

You reach for him, surprising himself, he welcomes your touch. Holding his face like you hold the entire world in your palms, you kiss the corner of his eyes softly, encouraging him to cry.

Laying your forehead against his, you whisper the words to him like a secret shared between two lovers.

“Let me be angry for you just this once, e–even if it's just for today, let me carry it for you. And I'll be angry for you if you ask. Just ask me, Hobie.”

“Just for a minute.” He whispers back.

“Alright, just for a minute.”

Hobie drops his head on your shoulder, hiding his face from the world, arms enclosed around your torso, you let him cry.

—

You help Hobie bury the empty graves. Pomegranates and colourful flowers on top of each one except for the three at the very back. You whisper goodbyes to each one, giving Finn's, Ned's and the crew he lost with extra attention and extra love.

You leave a bar of chocolate on top of Finn's grave, his name written on a piece of driftwood. ‘beloved friend’ you've written under his name then you realize it's not enough to describe him, so you write ‘best chef in the world’ next to it, laughing to yourself once you finish it.

“I think he'd like it” Hobie said whilst he places the folded sail on top of Ned’s empty grave. He wrote next to his name, ‘a shit lyricist but a good friend, beloved by everyone’ and you sobbed wetly at the words.

You just stare at the graves for the men you killed, imagining them rotting under it. They were once children, you thought, but you don't regret it, because you lived because of what you did, lived because of what you endured.

Just as you're leaving the thicket, giving the crew one last goodbye, you watch Hobie write her name and you leave, giving him privacy.

You wait for him patiently under the trees, right next to the raft full of supplies you've gathered. Eyes downturned, cheeks stained with tears, you hear the rustle of leaves from behind and you don't mention the missing necklace from his neck.

“Ready to go?” He asks.

No.

“Yes.”

Hobie goes around the raft to push, you copy him.

“Is that—?” He stops, hand above his eyebrows, shielding it from the sun. “Holy shit.”

You follow his line of sight, perplexed, until you see five figures waving wildly at you.

“It's them” Hobie looks at you with relief and you almost weep once again.

“It's them.”

A/N: Before you all get mad at me for Miguel, all will be revealed in the next chapter. Thank you for reading!

[yelena-bellova]

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen: Violent Innocence

Plot: A separated Joel and Y/n work different angles to try and best David and his men.

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: canon-typical violence, implied attempted SA, insinuated abuse, c*nnibalism, knives, guns, blood, wounds, language, loss of a child, ptsd, (16+)

A/N: This was a hard, hard chapter to get through, guys. If the quality of my writing isn’t up to its regular standard, it’s because it was truly emotionally taxing to write. I’ve also left out descriptions of certain events/discoveries/dialogue in an effort to keep the 16+ rating.

As always, this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist who does not have their age/range in their bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

I advise everyone to take a breather, or just skip to the end of the chapter, if it’s too much to handle. Ep.8 was traumatizing and I don’t fault anyone for not wanting to put themselves through it again. I’m so looking forward to finishing out this series with y’all and the finale tonight. Thank you thank you thank you for your constant support and encouragement ☀️

——————

Unlike the movies, where the main character on the verge of death is miraculously returned to the living, Joel did not wake with a start. Still lost in the haze of blood loss, hunger and medicinal side effects, his eyes hurt to open. He registered the room, remembering being dragged down a flight of stairs and falling into a mattress.

One memory dripped down before the flood unleashed.

Ellie and Y/n.

Stay awake.

Men coming.

Leading them away.

Kill them.

The footsteps on the floor above startled Joel, the ticking clock and the realization that Ellie and Y/n were gone motivated him to roll off the bed. He stifled a groan, hurrying to his feet, clutching the knife that Ellie had placed in his palm. He wobbled his way to the rear of the room, falling against a water heater that could conceal him.

Joel listened for the footsteps over the blood pounding in his ears.

They crept through the room.

He waited…until the man finally passed the heater.

Joel couldn’t have possibly known that it was the same man who, five minutes before, had clubbed Y/n and ordered David’s men to shoot her and Ellie. But he slashed his knife through him as if he’d watched it happen.

After wrestling the man to the ground and assuring that he was dead, Joel rolled off him, wheezing for breath. He tried to gather his thoughts on his back. There were more men, all looking for him, Y/n and Ellie. They weren’t back yet, which meant they’d either been kidnapped or killed. Most likely kidnapped, so long as Ellie’s bite wound hadn’t been visible. Tortured, maybe, or worse.

Joel inhaled as deep as he could and began to drag his body across the floor towards the stairs. Towards his girls.

—————————

Y/n leaned her head back against the concrete wall, wondering why the fuck there was a cage inside a kitchen.

She’d carried Ellie into it, the butt of David’s follower’s rifles pressing into her back as they forced her in. They’d both been stripped of their winter coats and weapons. She had yet to get any answers as to why they wanted them there or what they were planning to do to them. Ellie hadn’t woken up, leaving Y/n on her own to try every conceivable possibility to escape. None had succeeded.

David entered then, finally gracing Y/n with his holy presence. He pulled up a seat across from the cage, smiling politely.

“How is she?”

Y/n turned her head, indignant at the fact that David’s men had shot at them, caused Ellie’s injuries, and yet he had the nerve to inquire about her wellbeing.

David tried a different approach, “I know this all must be a bit strange…”

Y/n bristled, “I lived in Texas, I’ve seen a lot weird shit, but, uh,” Y/n took a look at her surroundings, “Yeah, a jail cell next to a butcher’s block is an unusual feature.”

“We only use it when necessary,” David held up two innocent hands, “I’d love to explain our community more to you, but it’d be nice to know your name first.”

“Beyonce,” Y/n answered without hesitation.

The preacher chuckled under his breath, “You’re very quick. Stepping in to portect your daughter, your…what, your husband? Boyfriend?”

Y/n had been interrogated so many times, had sustained so many injuries in FEDRA lockup, that there weren’t many tactics that could work on her. David trying to get a feel for her and Joel’s relationship was a waste of breath.

He sighed, tapping his hands against his knees in wait. “You know we’re not here to hurt you,” he said softly.

“Gee, I wonder where I would have gotten that idea,” Y/n retorted, “What with my fucking head splitting and my kid unconscious on the floor.”

“An unfortunate turn of events, yes,” David corrected her, “But we’re protective of our own. You can understand that, can’t you?”

Y/n didn’t move a muscle, staring David down, “Oh, yeah. We’re one and the same there,” she cracked a smile, vengeance practically dripping from her lips, “And that should scare you.”

David, however, only found her threats mildly amusing. He exhaled with a small laugh, Y/n rather preferred being underestimated. It caused people to leave their weak spots exposed. She was sure if she looked hard enough, she could find David’s.

Beside her, Ellie finally began to stir, drawing Y/n’s attention. She scurried to place her hands on Ellie’s back, helping the girl to sit up.

“Me and your mother were starting to worry you wouldn’t wake up,” David said.

Ellie’s vision was blurry and her entire body hurt, her words didn’t carry their usual edge as she told David, “Let us out.”

“Well, that’s certainly the goal,” David nodded, “Hungry?”

“Why are we in a cage?” Ellie hazily took in their surroundings.

“Because I’m afraid of you,” David gave the same calm smile he’d given Y/n, “You’re a dangerous person. You’ve certainly proven that. The others want me to kill you two for what’s happened.”

Y/n held Ellie steady as she got to her knees, neither of them particularly alarmed by David’s words.

He leaned forward, “Did you hear me say the others wanna kill you?”

“Yeah,” Ellie breathed.

“But I stopped them.”

“Fuck you,” Ellie said on behalf of both her and Y/n.

“Why don’t we just start with your name?” David asked once more.

Ellie didn’t miss a beat, “Eat shit.”

“Hey,” David’s voice rose, “Listen to me!”

As he got to his feet, Y/n did as well, coming to meet him at the cage wall as Ellie scurried to the far end of their prison. Y/n wanted to rip into him purely for startling the girl.

“You can’t survive on your own,” David continued, his eyes looking past Y/n to land on Ellie, “No one can. But I can help you,” his gaze finally flicked up, “Let me protect you two.”

“We don’t need your help or your protection,” Y/n enunciated every word clearly.

“And we’re not on our own,” Ellie added from behind Y/n.

David nodded, “Right. Your friend,” his face changed to accommodate faux concern one might use on a child, “And how is he?”

Behind her eyes, Y/n’s mind flicked to Joel, beads of sweat around his temples, breathing so frighteningly shallow, his tan skin deathly pale. She couldn’t admit to the fear pooling in her belly that against David’s men, Joel might have lost the fight.

“I can see how much you care about him, so I know it hurts,” David continued, l having broken Y/n and Ellie’s first line of defense, “But even so…you gotta face reality.”

David turned and began to circle the cage. Ellie and Y/n moved as one, Ellie crawling in the opposite direction and Y/n standing in front of her as a shield.

“That part of your lives, it’s ending,” David went on, finally stopping on the other end of the cage, “And what I’m offering you is a beginning. But if you can’t find a way to trust me, then yes,” his eyes scanned Ellie, “You are alone.”

Without another word, David walked off through a door in the kitchen, leaving Y/n and Ellie to themselves.

Y/n was on her knees immediately, holding Ellie’s face in her hands and checking her head.

“Definitely got your bell rung,” Y/n lightly ran a finger over the pink bruise at Ellie’s hairline.

“What the fuck do we do?” Ellie asked, unconcerned about her injuries.

“I’m trying to figure that out,” Y/n replied, stroking a quick hand over Ellie’s hair, “I’ve already tried to window up there,” she pointed to a small pane of glass above them, “I can’t break it. Guns are over there in the corner,” she gestured to the edge of the room. And I can’t-“

Y/n was cut off by Ellie, throwing her arms around her body. The girl pressed the side of her face into Y/n’s chest, her short breaths warming Y/n’s skin through her layers.

Of all the horrible memories Y/n carried from September 26th, 2003, there was one in particular that lived in her chest every second of every day. As she had clutched Sarah in her arms, with Joel trying to assess her mortal injuries, Sarah had tried desperately to speak. Her lips pressed together, only able to make a humming sound. Y/n had shushed her, telling her that it was okay, she was okay, they’d all be okay…and that had been the last of it.

Whatever Sarah had needed to say died on her lips, but lived on in Y/n’s mind. She had spent so long, playing the memory back, watching the girl’s mouth, listening to the buzz in her throat, unable to rest until she knew what she’d wanted to say in her final minutes.

It took her one year to figure it out, and twenty to accept.

Mom.

Y/n had failed Sarah just as Joel felt he had failed. She’d spent the last two decades telling herself she could have jumped in front of them, she could have yanked Sarah out of Joel’s arms, she could have attacked the guard…all things her brain knew there hadn’t been enough time for, but guilt and logic never agreed on anything. Y/n had begged God, the skies, the earth, the universe, anyone, for a second chance. For some miraculous, mind-bending turn of events to send her back to that day and save her daughter.

And as she cradled Ellie in her arms, pressing a kiss to the girl’s head, she knew her second chance lay not in the past, but in the future.

“We’re gonna get out of this,” Y/n said, speaking with a strength she hadn’t in twenty years, “I promise.”

David was right about one thing, they had to face reality.

Joel wasn’t coming to save them.

They were on their own.

And Y/n would be damned if she failed to save someone she loved again.

————————————

Joel had tried to keep his violent side hidden from both Ellie and Y/n during their time together. He’d slipped with the FEDRA guard in Boston, remembering the terror in Y/n’s eyes as she’d watched him beat the young man to death. Whether or not he knew it, he’d tried from that moment on to be better.

But now, with their lives at stake, Joel didn’t care about better.

Every punch he drove into the raider’s face he had tied to the chair was pure rage, the only thing strong enough to keep him upright. The pleas of the bloody pulp of a man fell on deaf ears.

“Stop…stop, please…”

Joel rammed his fist against his cheek once more, silencing him.

“Leave him alone,” the raider who Joel had yet to touch urged from the other side of the room.

“You’re next,” Joel muttered, withdrawing the knife from his belt with a spine-tingling smirk.

“Please,” the man he’d been hitting begged, “I don’t know any girls.”

Joel was a human lie detector, having seen both the best and worst of humanity. He didn’t have to second guess whether it was the right decision to drive his knife into the man’s knee.

“Marco,” the guy tried to call, his voice strained from his screams of pain.

“No-no, no-no-no,” Joel cooed, his soft tone contrasting the roughness in which he pulled the man by his hair, “He can’t help you. You focus right here. Or I’ll pop your fuckin’ kneecap off.”

The man’s breath trembled as Joel gripped him, knowing that betraying David came at its own cost. “They’re alive,” he admitted.

The hope spread through Joel, but it couldn’t outmatch the anger that doubled at the thought of Y/n and Ellie being held and tortured. “Where?”

When Joel didn’t get his answer quick enough, he reached down and twisted the knife in the man’s leg.

“Ah! Fuck,” he squealed, “Fuck! Ah! The town!”

“WHAT TOWN?!” Joel screamed into his face.

“Silver Lake,” the man panted, wincing after.

Joel reached into his pocket, taking out his map and unfolding it.

“It’s not a real town name,” his victim said, his speech slow from the ache in his jaw, “It’s a resort.”

Now that was a word Joel hadn’t heard in a long time, “A resort?”

Feeling each precious second that Y/n and Ellie were still breathing slipping away, Joel removed his knife from the man’s leg and forced his mouth open, slipping the handle in. “You’re gonna point to where we are,” he held up the map towards the guy’s head, “And where your resort is. And it better be the exact same spot your buddy points to.”

Joel had a death grip on his hair, pressing their foreheads together and feeling his near-attacker’s body tremble with fear. Trying his best, the man aimed the blade at the map, pinpointing their location. Fear could always deliver results.

Joel sat back, examining the drip of blood that served as a marker. His body ached with exhaustion, but his chest felt the same pain it had for the last three months. The kind that was usually a precursor his panic attacks, except now, adrenaline was all that followed.

“That’s where we are,” the man whimpered, “I swear. Go ask him, he’ll tell you. I’m not lying.”

There had never been a question as to whether or not Joel would show mercy. These men had seen Ellie and Y/n, knew where they were being kept, they might have even laid hands on them.

Joel slid the blade into the man’s chest without a second thought.

Marco unleashed a string of expletives as Joel caught his breath.

“Why the fuck did you do that? He told you what you wanted,” Marco whined.

Joel took clumsy steps across the room, reaching for the lead pipe Marco had carried in with him that now lay across the couch.

“You motherfucker, fuck you,” Marco spat as Joel strode towards him, “I ain’t tellin’ you shit.”

“It’s okay,” Joel nodded empathetically, calling on the same disarming tactics he had in his days as a raider, “I believe him.”

In that moment, Joel wasn’t a monster.

He wasn’t the villain.

He was a father and a husband.

And he brought the pipe down with all the fury one could possess.

—————————

Ellie was relentless.

“El,” Y/n insisted as the girl continued to try and pick the lock, “I already tried that.”

“Well, maybe you didn’t try hard enough,” Ellie replied as she tugged on it.

“Yes, ‘cause this is just so pleasant,” Y/n spread her arms out to the cage, “Look, we’re not getting out of here like that. We’ve gotta wait for him to slip up.”

Ellie looked over her shoulder, “What do you mean?”

“He thinks we’re two little lost lambs or sheep or whatever, all alone without anyone to protect us,” Y/n explained, “We’ve gotta wait for the exact right moment when he fucks up and gives us an opportunity.”

“Okay,” Ellie nodded before quickly turning back to the lock.

Y/n slapped her hands against her legs, “I just gave you the plan.”

“I thought I felt it jiggle,” Ellie insisted, shaking the lock a few more times before coming to a sudden stop and stumbling backwards towards Y/n.

Y/n caught her in confusion, “What?”

She followed Ellie’s line of vision across the room to the chopping block, falling south to the floor. Y/n’s stomach turned at the sight…

An ear.

An actual fucking ear.

In all his perfect timing, David entered just then, carrying a tray and sliding it under the cage walls. Two bowls of soup and a cup of water.

David followed Ellie and Y/n’s eyes down to the butcher’s block, frowning when he realized what they were looking. “For what it’s worth,” he gestured to the bowls, “This is just deer meat, I swear.”

Ellie and Y/n were separately connecting all the dots of why they were being held where they were. They could have been trapped anywhere in the town, their weapons stripped from them and beaten into submission. This was a purposeful choice.

“You’re going to chop us into little pieces,” Ellie stated.

“I’d rather not,” David answered, “Please, just tell me your names.”

Y/n forced herself to exhale, wondering how the hell he could be so focused on a trivial detail.

“If you wanna judge me-“ David shrugged.

“Judge you?” Ellie raised her voice to a scream, surging forward to grab the metal bars, “You’re eating people, you sick fuck!”

She kicked the tray across the floor, it landed under the chopping block. David backed away from her anger.

“Yes,” David replied, “There are only a few of us who know. But I would’ve told you, sooner or later. I guess sooner.”

“You’re a fucking animal,” Y/n seethed, finally finding the strength to speak.

“Well, yes, we all are,” David said, his sociopathic calm tone beginning to worry both Y/n and Ellie, “That’s sorta of the point,” he took in Ellie’s disgust, “It was a last resort. You think it doesn’t shame me? But what was I supposed to do? Let them starve? These people who put their lives in my hands, w-who expect me to keep them save, who love me?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Ellie shot back.

“You don’t believe that,” David shook his head, “I don’t think your friend would either. Didn’t he take another man’s life to save yours?”

“Your men fucking attacked us,” Y/n added, her tone sharp.

“He was defending himself,” Ellie replied.

“He was defending you and your mother,” David corrected, even though he was calling on Y/n, his eyes were locked on Ellie’s, “But you knew that. You see a lot. So do I. And you know what I see when I look at you?”

Y/n watched the conversation in wait, it was beginning to alarm her that he was focusing all his attention on Ellie.

“Me,” he continued, “You remind me of me. You’re a natural leader, smart…loyal. Violent.”

Ellie froze at his words, while Y/n took a step forward.

“Keep going and you’ll see how violent I can be,” she threatened.

“Now, see, your mother,” David gestured to Y/n but never once looked at her, “She is deeply afraid, faking her confidence with threats. But that’s not who she actually is. I could unlock this door, hand her her gun, and she still might not be able to do what she needs to to protect you.”

Y/n’s nostrils flared at the assumption that she wouldn’t break his neck to save Ellie.

“But you, on the other hand…” David continued speaking to Ellie, “If I let you out of that cage right now, put that knife of yours in your hand, you’d stick me in a second. You have a violent heart. And I should know…” David took slow steps towards the cage, his eyes alight, “I’ve always had a violent heart. And I struggled with it for a long time. But then the world ended and I was shown the truth.”

“Right…” Ellie muttered, “By God.”

“No,” David breathed, “By Cordyceps. What does Cordyceps do? Is it evil? No. It’s fruitful. It multiplies. It feeds and protects its children, and it secures its future with violence, if it must. It loves.”

Y/n’s blood heated to a boil, her cheeks warming with rage. Cordyceps had taken everything and everyone she had ever loved. It was the purest form of evil nature had ever created. She wanted to cut through David, whispering the names of all her lost family into his ear as she did.

But this wasn’t her opportunity.

“Why are you telling us all this?” Ellie asked, she still believed it was a conversation between three people.

“Because you can handle it,” David said, Y/n may as well have not even been in the room, “The way the others can’t. They need God, they need Heaven,” David took another step towards the cage, “They need a father. You don’t. You’re beyond that. I’m a shepherd surrounded by sheep, and all I want…is an equal. A friend.”

Alarms rang in Y/n’s head so loud, she thought they were real. But Ellie was playing the game that Y/n had told her to, and she couldn’t stop her.

“What about our friend?”

“Like I said, loyal,” David nodded before taking another slow step towards them, “I can tell the others to stop looking for him. They’ll spare him.”

Ellie looked up to Y/n, convincingly filling her eyes with hope, before looking back to David. Y/n quickly adjusted her expression to match, pretending as if Joel’s safety was the only thing that mattered.

“Really?” Ellie took a step forward towards David, “They’ll just let him go?”

“Yes,” David answered confidently, “If he leaves us in peace, they will just let him go.”

It wasn’t hard for Y/n to whip up some tears, taking a choking breath in and following Ellie towards the metal bars.

“They do what I tell them to do. They follow me,” David was getting closer and closer, his gaze fixated, obsessed with Ellie, “And they would follow us. Lord knows, I could use the help. I-“ he chortled, gesturing to below the chopping block, “Look what’s happened.”

David extended his hand, gripping one of the horizontal metal bars between him from Ellie and Y/n. They stared down at it, considering their options.

“Think of what we could together,” David said, his voice alive with passion, “As strong as we are. We’d make this place perfect. We’d grow, spread out. And we’d do whatever we needed for our people.”

Ellie reached to grab the other side of the bar, her hand perilously close to David’s. Y/n had to fight every instinct to rip her body behind her own.

“Imagine the life we could give them,” David said wistfully, moving his hand to slide over Ellie’s, “Imagine the life we could build.”

David may not have been watching her, but Y/n made effort to drop two tears down her cheeks and sniffle as if it was the most beautiful idea in the world…

“Oh,” Ellie whispered, reaching a nearly shaking palm up to David’s hand, hoping that Y/n sensed that the moment was upon them.

Ellie pushed David’s finger back, a sickening crack erupting in his hand. As he cried out in pain, Y/n dropped down to her knees, pulling him in by his belt and grabbing the keys off their hook. Unfortunately, he wriggled out of Ellie’s grasp and reached through the bars, grabbing Y/n by the throat and squeezing. Y/n gagged and choked as his fingers tightened, but she still held onto the keys.

Ellie struck a blow to David’s abdomen, causing him to drop Y/n and stumble backwards. In the sudden movement, Y/n dropped the keys to the floor and nearly fell. David was quick to come back, grabbing Ellie’s hair and slamming her face into the bars twice before throwing her down.

“You little cunts,” he seethed, picking up the keys from the floor, “Let’s see what I go tell the others now.”

Y/n coughed violently, earning each and every breath back, but bent over Ellie to make sure she was alright. The girl’s blood painted the floor of their cell.

“Ellie,” she said, crawling past Y/n and towards David.

David turned, “What?”

“Tell them Ellie is the little girl,” the girl crawled to the bars, raising her voice, “Who broke your fucking finger!”

“How did you put it?” David asked, his tone mocking them now, “Hmm? ‘Tiny little pieces?’”

He stormed out of the room, slamming it behind him and leaving Ellie and Y/n to contemplate their impending doom.

“Fuck,” Y/n whispered, rubbing her already sore neck and forming a plan in her dizzy head. “Okay, when they come in, I’ll take them and you fucking run.”

“No,” Ellie replied quickly, stumbling to her feet, “No, we-“

“You’re going to get the fuck out of here,” Y/n continued, emphasizing each of the last words, “And you’re going to run.”

“I’m not fucking leaving you,” Ellie yelled, shoving Y/n’s arms.

“And I’m not asking,” Y/n yelled back, feeling her fate slowly approaching. If it bought Ellie time, it was all worth it.

She gripped Ellie’s shoulders, wrenching her closer and locking eyes with her. “You. Run.”

———————————

The snow outside had picked up, nearly blinding Joel as he trudged through the ice, clutching his abdomen the whole way.

He’d made it to Silver Lake, against all odds, but didn’t know the first place to look. He kept his good ear peeled, trying to listen for Y/n or Ellie’s cries, but the storm made that impossible. Leaned up against one of the resort’s buildings, trying to catch his breath, Joel tried to think clearly about his next move.

Then his eyes caught the trail of blood in the snow and logic went out the window.

Joel followed the crimson that led him to the building’s door. He broke the lock with the butt of his rifle and entered, clicking on his flashlight and drawing his pistol. He crept through the shed, bending down once to search under a table and finding only old clothes and useless supplies. Then, he spotted a nearly identical trail of blood leading into the next room.

All the while his heart thudded with fear, fear of failure.

Joel made no noise as he entered the room, shining his flashlight ahead to find what was left of one of their horses. They’d captured Y/n and Ellie while riding. The picture of their kidnapping was beginning to fill with color.

Joel shone his flashlight past the horse, finding tarps over equipment and…something…hanging on the other side. He moved around the animal’s body to get a closer look…

His stomach turned.

He had to fucking hurry.

—————————

David stormed through the door with James right behind him. Ellie and Y/n scurried away from the cage’s front. Y/n hadn’t expected a second set of hands, it made her entire plan impossible.

“No! No! No!” Ellie screamed, pressing herself into Y/n’s body in fear.

David and James wrenched the two of them apart.

“Don’t you fucking touch her,” Y/n screamed at the top of her lungs, hoping someone might hear them and come running, “No!”

“Get off of me!” Ellie shrieked, kicking at both of the men, “Get off of me!”

If Y/n had been on 10, Ellie’s pleas dialed her up to 12. She picked up her entire body weight and let herself drop to the floor, bringing James with her. He stumbled, but regained his footing and dragged Y/n out of the cell, kicking and screaming.

“No!” Ellie yelled, biting down on David’s all-too-close hand.

“Ow,” the preacher cried out, but stayed undeterred in his mission. He pulled Ellie out of the cell.

Y/n wrestled against Jame’s firm grip, flailing her arms as she tried to reach around and scratch him. She’d tear him to pieces with her hands, if the chance came.

“You motherfucker,” she cried, trying to catch her leg on anything that might slow them down, but he lifted her onto the chopping block as if she was nothing. James held her hands down at her sides, giving Y/n the opportunity to spit in his face.

“Wait, wait,” Ellie begged as David dragged her towards the block.

“Shut up,” James growled, narrowly dodging Y/n’s head butt.

David lifted Ellie up and dropped her harshly on Y/n, knocking the wind out of the woman with Ellie’s weight. He forced Ellie’s hands into Y/n’s, lining the two of them up.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” Ellie begged, Y/n’s coughs sputtering in her ear, “Don’t! Don’t do it! Please, don’t do it!”

“You had your chance,” David spoke over Ellie as he raised the cleaver above his head.

In her struggle for oxygen, Y/n let out a final cry. For Ellie, for Joel, for her grand failure to save all of them.

This was how it ended.

“I’M INFECTED!”

Ellie’s words echoed off the walls, David simply scoffed at her.

“I’m infected,” Ellie said once more, her voice low, “And now so are you.”

David glanced down at the bite mark Ellie had put on his hand. Y/n caught it too, fighting the urge to smile. The girl was smarter and quicker than she or Joel had ever taught her.

“Roll up my sleeve, look at it,” Ellie insisted, “Look at it!”

Biting down on his lip in frustration, David slammed the cleaver down beside Y/n and Ellie’s heads, causing both of them to flinch away. He tugged Ellie’s right sleeve up, revealing the ever-present mark that Cordyceps had left on her.

“God’s will,” Y/n strained, smirking below Ellie.

James looked up at his leader in concern, “David…”

“No,” David shook his head, “No, she would’ve turned by now. This isn’t real.”

Unable to speak without them hearing her, but needing to signal Ellie that she was on board with the plan, Y/n squeezed the back of Ellie’s hand twice.

“It looks pretty fuckin’ real to me,” James continued.

Ellie pressed her hand back into Y/n’s.

This was their opportunity.

Ellie reached to her side, grabbing the cleaver and lodging it in Jame’s shoulder. Y/n threw the girl off and kicked both feet into David’s stomach, buying them a few precious seconds to escape. Bullets chased them as they flew through the door.

Y/n and Ellie ran through the rest of the kitchen, making it out into the dining room. They went from door to door, banging and pulling furiously. Nothing.

Hearing David’s footsteps down the hall, they rushed back into the kitchen to look for any weapons. Ellie reached into a wood burning stove, grabbing one of the crackling logs before Y/n shoved her out of the room and down behind a wall.

The kitchen door squeaked, announcing David’s presence. Without her gun, Y/n knew she didn’t stand a chance at going up against David, but she could buy time. She crawled away from Ellie, ignoring the girl’s frantic looks and moved behind a table, popping up once she heard David’s steps.

“You’re very determined,” David’s calm tone continued, even as he clutched the cleaver in his hand, “I’ll give you that.”

“What a parent won’t do for their kid,” Y/n shrugged, “Right, Father?”

As Y/n put a period on her sentence, Ellie stood up from her spot and threw the burning log at David, missing him and giving Y/n the chance to duck down and crawl away. Ellie had, however, succeeded in starting a fire that quickly began to eat through the drapes of the dining room. Ellie crawled back, spotting Y/n and hurrying in her direction.

“There’s no way out, Ellie,” David called, moving away from the rapid fire, “The doors are locked and I have the keys.”

While she couldn’t see the flames, Y/n could smell and hear them. They were spreading as if nature herself had started it.

“Ellie?” David called tauntingly, “Ellie.”

Y/n knew that if there was any chance for escape, it would only come for one of them. David would have to be preoccupied with something else to let anything slip through his fingers and that anything had to be Ellie. Reaching down into her boot, she remembered she still had her knife on her.

She drew a deep breath and begged for Joel, dead or alive, to forgive her.

It was the only option that ensured Ellie’s salvation.

————————

Joel couldn’t move fast in the snow, the winds threatening to shove his fragile frame down into the ice. With every step he fought, trying to see something, anything through the gust of snowflakes.

In his mind, he was begging and pleading with the universe to give him a sign, a direction..he felt more and more panicked with each passing moment that he was too late.

Joel walked a little quicker, ignoring the stabbing pain in his stomach.

He couldn’t lose them.

—————————

“Ellie…” David called again, “I know you’re not infected. No one infected fights this hard to stay alive.”

Y/n belly crawled on the floor of the restaurant, away from Ellie and closing in on David’s voice. She clutched the knife in her sweaty palm.

“So…how did you do it?” David asked the room, “What’s the secret? Or are you just that fucking special?”

Y/n was near enough to the bar that she could see the panels swing open and Ellie’s legs trailing in. She was smart enough to try and find a true weapon.

“No one likes being humiliated, Ellie,” David continued his tirade, forgetting Y/n’s presence entirely, “You don’t know how good I am! You don’t know what I could have given you! If you had just let me!”

Y/n continued her army crawl before crouching behind the wall nearest to David, waiting for her perfect chance.

“Well, I have news for you,” the “pastor’s” tone softened back to its pulpit pitch, “None of us are dying today. You see, I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided you do need a father, and your mother needs a husband.”

Y/n tightened her grip on her knife, waiting, waiting, waiting…

“So I’m gonna keep you two,” David promised, “And I’m gonna teach you.”

In her years, Y/n had heard and witnessed truly disturbing events. Nothing could have terrified her more than the sick headlines about corrupt preachers, using the Word of God as a deflection, coming to life in front of her.

Y/n leapt to her feet, spininning around the wall’s end and stabbing David’s shoulder from behind. The man cried out in pain, but didn’t fall as Y/n had needed him to. He faced her, swinging the cleaver past her before gripping her throat with one hand and shoving her up against the wall. Y/n struggled ferociously, speed kicking his legs until he dropped her. He wrenched her back, throwing her to the floor, and let one of the heavy dining tables fall straight onto Y/n’s abdomen. The pressure crushed her, stealing all the air from her lungs, and left her sputtering and choking for breath.

David leaned down, his lips grazing Y/n’s ear in a way that had only ever been reserved for Joel. “I’ll deal with you in a moment,” he growled.

Y/n was too breathless to speak and the table was too heavy for her to lift. It was almost guaranteed that David had cracked at least one of her ribs. She flailed about under its weight like a bug being crushed, frantically trying to escape.

With a lack of oxygen, her ears began to ring and her eyesight began to blur. From across the room, she could see David and Ellie’s figures fighting, with Ellie’s being shoved to the floor.

Y/n’s lips tried to form the girl’s name.

The corners of her vision began to darken just as David pinned Ellie down.

Her screams poured the air right back into Y/n’s lungs.

With strength only a mother whose child was endangered could have, Y/n strained to push the table off of her. She raised it enough to shimmy her abdomen out, letting it fall on her legs with a pained groan. She pulled and pulled her body out from under the surface, Ellie’s cries of terror giving her all the power she needed to roll the rest of the way. She grabbed her knife, stained with David’s blood and crawled across the floor.

David’s back was blissfully turned.

Ellie couldn’t see Y/n.

The flames were consuming the restaurant.

Y/n inched her way closer.

David said something Y/n couldn’t hear over the fire.

Ellie screamed louder.

Y/n reached her hand out, ripping David back by the collar, stabbing him in the chest with her knife and wrenching him off of Ellie.

Ellie reached above her head for the cleaver.

The rest passed in a set of thirty blood soaked seconds.

When it was over, Y/n stumbled to her feet, reaching down to pull Ellie up with her. The room was filled with a gagging smoke, the fames mere seconds from bringing the whole building down.

Y/n rushed them out through the kitchen, the back end was their best chance at escape. Down the hall were two large black doors, the lack of lock allowing Y/n to shove her and Ellie’s trembling forms out.

The cold air greeted their heated skin, both of them struggling to catch their breath. Y/n clutched Ellie to her as she maneuvered them down the stone steps and into the snow.

They both screamed as a pair of strong arms grabbed their bodies, tugging them backwards.

“No! Get off of me!,” Ellie shrieked, the reality of David’s death ceasing to exist under the strange touch.

“No! You fucking-“ Y/n tried to shove Ellie behind her, turning around and fighting hard against the figure before she even looked up.

Adrenaline somehow granted Joel enough strength to turn Ellie around in his arms and restrain Y/n’s hands.

“It’s me,” Joel coaxed as Ellie slapped his chest.

Y/n eyes turned up at the sound of his voice, meeting his eyes finally. “Ellie,” she breathed, awestruck.

“It’s me,” Joel repeated to Ellie, her hits finally stopping as she finally returned to reality. Joel took her face into his hand, cupping her cheek and drawing her gaze to him, “Hey, look…it’s me. It’s me.”

Ellie let out little whimpers as she took in his presence, miraculously in front of her.

Y/n ran her hands over Joel’s arm, in utter disbelief that he was actually there. His hand that rested on her back slid half an inch, the movement giving her the assurance that he was real. He had come for them.

“It’s okay,” Joel told Ellie, the girl mumbling and stuttering in shock.

Ellie didn’t think twice before looping her arms around Joel’s neck and burrowing her face into his shoulder. Y/n did the same, keeping one arm firmly around Ellie.

“It’s okay,” he promised once more, taking the full force of their embrace as if it were the very air he breathed. “It’s okay, babygirl,” he said to Ellie, “I got you. I got you.”

Y/n sniffled into Joel’s shoulder, feeling his hurried kiss press against her temple. She had gone from her most vulnerable to her most safe in the course of a single minute.

After a few seconds, wishing it could last longer, Joel pulled back to look at them both. He took in the blood on both their faces, there were big bruise marks on Y/n’s neck and she was clutching her stomach. He felt ashamed that he hadn’t been there sooner to spare them the pain of whatever they’d gone through.

“Okay,” Joel said softly, taking off his coat and wrapping it around Ellie’s shoulders.

Y/n finally noticed that Joel was carrying both his rifle and all three of their backpacks. She hurried to grab hers and Ellie’s, slipping one on her shoulder and carrying the other.

Joel and Y/n got on each of Ellie’s sides, wrapping an arm around the girl and setting off into the snow. The adrenaline began to fade in Joel’s body, weakening him once again till he was limping. The searing pain in Y/n’s chest ached with every breath, she had to time each inhale in between her steps.

But it didn’t matter to either of them. They locked their hands around each other’s arm, tightening their hold around Ellie, and took slow, unsteady steps towards the river.

—————————

That night, they sought shelter in a different neighborhood, hiding in someone else’s former house.

Y/n and Joel sat upright against the freezing concrete wall, Ellie sleeping soundly between them. They each kept one hand on her as they had soothed her to sleep, but they kept their hold long after. They needed the physical reassurance that she was okay.

All day, Y/n had held it together as they journeyed as far from Silver Lake as they could. She was too determined to get the three of them the hell out of dodge to fall apart. It wasn’t until Ellie had fallen asleep, under the safety of Y/n and Joel’s protection, that the weight of what had almost happened to them fell onto her.

Joel felt the trembling from Y/n’s hand gently shake Ellie’s body. He peered across her into the dark, the moonlight catching on her face to perfectly illuminate the silent tears down her cheeks.

As she stifled her sobs, Y/n felt Joel’s fingers intertwine with hers over Ellie’s torso. She squeezed her eyes shut, his touch sending her emotions right over their edge.

Joel squeezed, trying to tell her that in the silence, in the pain, he was there. He was there for the first time in twenty years for her to lean on.

Y/n squeezed back, savoring the press of his calloused fingers into her palm. They had come so close to losing one another, but they were alive. They were alive, they were together and if that was the only thing they had to hold onto, they’d cling to it like life itself.

——————

TYL Taglist: @bachiracore @stolenxkissess @kayleezra @the-wistful-reader @allthesesonsofbitches @goth-detectives365 @trippovert @rh1nestonecowg1rl @emiliaserpe @khaleesihavilliard @frietiemeloen @gracie7209 @dorck26 @thegirlnextdoorssister @alanis-altair @mariwinns16 @whosscruffylooking @endofthexline @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @pedrosmexicangf @scarlettequinn @ao-sleepy @toinfinityandbeyonce2 @deanlovescassie @turmoil-ash @sorrowjunky @kpopslur @xxlilyxx90 @midgetpottermills @presidential-facts @scoopsnini @tubble-wubble @jamesdeerest @burninggracesandbridges @star-wars-lover @lucyhotchner @cococola-cocaine @witheringhqarts @fall-writes @alwaysdjarin @xxmoonn @emilia-the-artist @wand-erer5 @boneyarrd @lizard-zombie @themultifandomofmadness @cassidylea123 @paleepeaches @mxltifxnd0m @kettlekatie @ultimate-cinephile @gloryekaterina @caramelkatsukis-bitch @whovianayesha @memeorydotcom @deadunicorn159 @get0ut0fmyr00m @siriuslymooned @emmyeed @superbreadsoul @hellu-people1 @ourautumn86 @inas-thing @noraapple05 @givemylovetoall @luvwanda (tags cont. in comments)

[bohemianblasphemy]

hii did you know that season 2 episode 6? where hughie got hurt but instead reader got hurt. i want to see maybe angst :3

Right Here Waiting.

i’m so sorry this took so long to do 😭 i hope it’s okay✨

contains: butcher x reader, based around season 2 ep. 6, canon gore/violence, reader is basically getting hurt the same as hughie did, angst, some fluff at the end.

the air seemed to stand still as the van flipped, the multiple screams of Butcher, Annie and Hughie as they realised that you were still in there.

the escaped patient that had caused the shockwave pleaded for forgiveness; “please! please! i-it was an accident-“ butcher didn’t hesitate, putting a bullet between the man’s eyes. all he could think was of you, having been thrown around within the metallic walls.

the vehicle stopped rolling as you tried to focus on where you were, but all that was present was physical pain as you lay sprawled in the back of the van. the large doors in the back flung open as butcher desperately needed to get to you, grabbing you gently from the floor of the vehicle.

the bright sun burnt your eyes as Billy got you on your feet. “sweetheart, are you alright?” “y-yeah… i’m…” he scanned your body for injuries, before his eyes fell onto the gaping wound in your side before you fell to the ground, slowly going in and out of consciousness from the shock and blood loss. your ears rang and your eyes went crossed seeing multiple of the three of them, not able to decipher what was happening around you.

Annie and Hughie rushed to your side, butcher stood in shock, seeing you laying on the grass.

“they need a hospital. now. they’ll bleed out and die if we don’t get them there.” Hughie held pressure to the wound, trying to stop the blood flow.

Butcher couldn’t speak, only stare at the sight of you.

“butcher!” annie snapped, urging him to get out of his head and help you up, herself and hughie holding you on either side on your shoulders. “can you get the van started?”

Billy ran he hand through his hair as he walked to the front of the van, finding the key had snapped in two when it rolled. “shit, we can’t go, not in the van. FUCK!” he screamed out, kicking the side of the van before returning to your side. he studied your face,

“can you hear me?? fuck please… say something lovey.” he held your jaw in his hand, his other hand brushing along your cheek as hughie and Annie still held you up by the shoulders. the panic set in him when all you could muster was a strangled groan.

“we’ve gotta go by foot, we can’t do much here.” he turned on his heel, walking in the direction of the nearest road. “do we call an ambulance?” Hughie suggested “and have ‘em question why we were outside Sage Grove? no fuckin’ way.” he tried to remain composed but that was slowly slipping away.

“but the nearest hospital is 40 minutes away- they will die before we can get halfway there.” Annie yelled as her and Hughie walked with you draped around their shoulders, slumped over with your feet dragging along the ground.

“we ain’t got much of a choice now do we?” he snapped back, eyes never leaving your limp body. “we’ve gotta flag down some wanker in their car, carjack ‘em and get ‘em to the hospital.”

“butcher no, if we pull someone over and they recognise me im fucke-“ “this ain’t about your fuckin’ reputation with those Vought cunts, this is about savin’ their life. god fucking dammit if i lose them…” he couldn’t finish his sentence without his voice cracking, his vulnerability seeping through.

he shook his head, getting his vulnerable state in check and walked over to hughie and annie, taking over carrying you towards the dirt road at the edge of the hospital. he couldn’t help but feel his heart break as the sight of you, eyes barely staying open.

the minutes of walking along that road waiting for someone to drive by seemed like hours for the small group, especially for butcher. he kept replaying any and all thoughts of you in his head- thinking of how your eyes crinkled as you smiled, your scent, the late night talks with him- he wouldn’t know what to do without you.

eventually, the sound of rubber tyres came within earshot- hughie jumping into action and flagging down the vehicle. “sir please… we need to use your vehicle, o-our friend is hurt and need to get to the hospital now.”

the man in the car was sceptical, eyeing off hughie, annie, butcher and yourself. he saw the state of you, eyes widening at the blood stained sight. “what happened?” he questioned hughie.

“i-i can’t tell you- but they just need to get to hospital... please.” he practically begged him, but the man wouldn’t budge- .

“oi!” butcher yelled to him. “if you don’t get your sorry ass outta that car you’re gonna regret it.”

Hughie turned to Billy telling him to back down, making the driver aggravated. Annie watched as he step out of the car, pointed a revolver at them that was hidden in the side compartment in the drivers seat door.

“all of you, back the fuck up or you will eat lead.” the drivers shaky hand aimed toward hughie, the sound of the safety being turned off triggered Annie to project a forceful beam of light from her, sending him flying through the air- landing with a loud thud and crackled gurgling from his throat.

no hesitation was needed as you they piled into the car, carefully laying you in the back with butcher holding you and applying pressure to your gaping wounds. “hold on lovey, we’re on our way… you’ll be right yeah?” he whispered in your ear as you sway in and out of responsiveness.

Hughies foot hit the pedal and the tires squealed off into the distance as time was ticking, your life on the line.

“i can’t let ya die, not now….” butchers breath hitched as he stroked your hair, holding you as close as humanly possible. Annie and Hughie exchanged concerned looks, worried not only about you, but also for butchers state. if he was to lose you… god only knew what would happen.

Billy had sentiments for you that were obvious to both of them; in fact, he was so enamoured of you that he wouldn't think about anything else. Although the grouchy londoner was unaware of it, they also knew that you had it bad for him.

the journey seemed to go on for eternity, but on the horizon the looming white building came into view. billy sighed in relief, letting a breath out that he didn’t realise he was holding.

As hughie pulled up to the emergency doors, butcher didn’t hesitate in opening the car door and pulling you out as gentle as possible, carrying you in his arms as he walked through the giant doors.

“HELP! they need to be seen immediately! they’re bleedin’ out.” butcher cried out desperate to grab the attention of staff, who bounced into action- calling for a trolley to travel you along the winding corridors towards the surgery room.

He tried to go beyond the doors but was stopped by a personnel. “sir, you can’t go through. you’ll have to wait-“

“but they need me-”

“sir. you’ll have to wait in the waiting room, we will let you know as soon as they are finished in surgery you will be called.” he huffed, walking away from them.

Hours passed and there was no news to be heard. The bright fluorescent lights of the waiting room flickered as Butcher paced back and forth, Annie and Hughie watching him alertly.

“Butcher…” Hughie whispered. “the doctors are doing everything they can, please sit- you have to breathe-“

“breathe?” Butcher turned his head to him. “fuck that. i ain’t breathin’ until i know they’re safe.” he sucked in a breath, his mind taking him back to seeing you fall the the ground in your blood stained clothes.

“we will hear from the doctors soon, just trust they they will pull through this.” Annie remarked, Butcher stayed silent. His vulnerability seeped through the tough facade that he always had, twisting in him like a dagger.

After what seemed like more than eternity a doctor emerged from the surgery doors. Butcher’s head jerked up as the doctor walked toward him. the doctors expression serious as he addressed the three of them. “they are out of surgery now. they had lost a lot of blood, but they are stable. they got lucky, if they got here 20 minutes after they did, they wouldn’t have made it…”

Butchers heart sank, Annie and Hughie breathed a sigh of relief for their friend. “can we see ‘em?” Butcher enquired, which was received with a nod. “you can, they just aren’t awake at the moment, but you can go sit in their room.”

Butcher took no time to walk through the corridors to your room, the other two following in unison. As butcher entered the room, the sound of medical instruments monitoring your every bodily function and the smell of antiseptic chemicals overstimulated his senses. his heart skips a beat as his eyes avert over to your resting body- fragile and sickly from the blood loss.

Annie and Hughie hung back, your appearance shocking them to the core and to give Butcher space to process what’s happened to you.

Sitting in the chair next to your bed, he looks at the various bandages that adorned you, watching your chest as it rose and fell with your short winded breaths. his heart ached as he pushed a strand of hair from your face, seeing you vulnerable like this.

The sun started to peak on the horizon as more hours went by, an orange glow seeped through the glossy windows of your hospital room. Butcher had fallen asleep in the chair, Annie and Hughie had gone to grab snacks and drinks for themselves.

You began to stir, the light blinding you slightly as you came to. the overwhelming sounds and smells invaded your senses as you woke up slowly with a groan. Butcher awoke as he heard your groan, his heart fluttering as your eyes opened and scanned your surroundings before they landed on him.

“Billy?” you said weakly, your tired eyes fixed onto him. “i’m here love…” he whispered. his voice croaked with relief, fighting back the lump that formed in the back of his throat. “i almost lost ya…”

Tears brimmed in your eyes as you realised how close you were to losing everything, him slipping through your fingers.

“I-I was so scared.” his heart sank once more, hearing your confession. Billy took your hand gently, running his thumb across your tender knuckles. “ you’re safe now… the doctors did their job.”

He paused for a moment. “i’m not gonna let anything happen to ya… never again, you mean too much to me. you won’t ever be scared again.”

“Billy I-“

“shhh… you gotta rest love.” he squeezed your hand tenderly, bringing his lips to your knuckles and kissing them, smiling softly as you looked at him.

“i’m gonna be right by your side yeah? no matter what, you’ll be safe… safe with me.” in that moment, you smiled weakly at him- seeing that spark of love in his eyes that you mirrored for him.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

i have a request! can u write a fic where r just feels like crap like she has no motivation to do any work or study for uni and maybe steve just helps her out? ly <33

i’ve been in these similar situations where depression or a funk is soooooo bad i just rotted in bed in the dark. if you’re ever feeling alone you could always come into my inbox/dms to talk.

steve harrington x gn!reader

masterlist

everything feels drab. draining. grey. there’s not an ounce of energy in your body to even lift your head from your pillow. the little shimmers of light filtering through your shut blinds felt blinding on your heavy eyes.

work sucks, taking every single piece of your soul everyday. school is stressful, having a breakdown after a three hour study session in the library. you want to drop out, you want to be unemployed- you just want to barely exist.

there was a gentle knock on your bedroom door, you couldn’t even mange a simple hum or “come in”, you just stayed silent. a faint creak of hinges signaled that your guest was peeking into your room.

“honey?” it was steve. his tone was soft, not wanting to disturb, “you awake?” you just did a light shuffle, moving your head from under your blanket. a nonverbal invitation to enter further.

steve closed the door behind him and made his way to your curled in side, the bed dipping with his weight. his palm rested on your covered hip, a comforting back and forth swiping. “how we feeling today?” a question steve asked when you were in a funk.

left cheek pressed into your pillow caused your lips to pucker and butcher your answer. steve leans in closer, asking for you to repeat yourself. even that felt like too much work.

“empty.” the one word pushed from your mouth, heavy on your tongue. eyes staring a hole into your wall, smile and laughing faces mocking you.

steve rubbed a line over your hip, “okay.” said in a tone a sad mother uses on their kid. you felt like you just disappointed steve. it’s not like you want to be down, it just happens and is a bitch to deal with.

a blur started to cover your sight, “i’m sorry.” throat getting choked by the oncoming tears. you wanted to bury yourself away.

“hey, no, no. it’s okay to feel this way. everyone feels this way at times.” hand leaving your hip to caress at your cheek, wiping away the few tears beginning to drop.

“it’s- it’s different.” “i now.” you both know that’s not the whole truth.

steve tucked a few greasy hair strands behind your ear, “why don’t we get a bath? feeling clean is always a nice step for a better mind. i could change your bedding as well, also make a snack to eat. what you say?” his thumb a simple weight on your cheek, his fingers pressing lightly into your neck.

a bath does sound nice. you were starting to feel the oil clogging your pores and you had a inkling that your room was starting to develop a smell that you were ignoring. you know what they say, a clean space helps a clean mind, or something like that.

“that… that sounds nice.” making eye contact with steve for the first time today.

his smile was beautiful. “okay, i’ll get it ready then come back.” before leaving he pressed a love filled kiss to your forehead and another before walking to the bathroom down the hall.

less than five minutes later steve reappears in your doorframe, a new glow following him. “your bath, ma’lady.” standing before you with a hand stretched out in waiting.

“will you stay with me?” pushing your comforter away and swinging your feet to the floor. steve took your hand, holding you delicately like glass. “for a little. i gotta do my other stuff. i can wash your hair if you want.”

“please?” already feeling your shoulders loosen at the feel of steve’s fingers messaging your scalp. he smiled, sickly sweet before presenting a kiss into your crown, “anything for you.”

[sucrealacreme]

Supe Busters - Soldier Boy x female reader

Chapter two

Summary : Vought has many secrets, project W is one of them. What happens when said project turns against them?

Butcher grunted, trying to force open the heavy metal door.

“You lot’s sure it's here” he said with annoyance. He didn't want to use energy for nothing after all.

“Yeah Butch we're sure. We should wait for Kimiko and Annie tho, none of us can open that door, it's made for supes, not us” M.M suggested. Both women would probably have more odds with the door then them.

But as M.M and Butcher were arguing, a loud creak echoed in the warehouse. They searched for the origin of the sound, but only saw one of the main doors slightly open.

“Come on we gotta hide in case they see us” exclaimed Hughie. They were huge shelves with boxes all over the warehouse. A hiding place wouldn't be hard.

You were walking back to the warehouse after collecting infos on Soldier Boy. This man needed to be put down, he killed a bunch of civilians and some innocent supes. I mean yeah, some were bad but it’s your job to do that. Your whole organisation is based around that and if more people start doing so, well it could fuck up your entire operation.

It angered you when people were being reckless. You hated when things didn't go as planned cause it meant you suddenly had to improvise and you're not good at that.

Arrived at the warehouse the door made a loud creak. Uh, you're gonna have to put some oil on it tomorrow before it hurts someone ears. Some of you have highly heightened senses, which can cause discomfort. But anyway, you'll deal with that tomorrow.

But your thoughts were interrupted when you smelled something strange. You maybe didn't have super vision or hearing but for smelling? Oh you were good at that. You could track supes with that for kilometres. But this scent, it wasn't a supe, it was similar to it but it missed this sweet note. No, it just smelled sour. But not a candy type of sour more like an alcohol one…

Someone cleared their throat behind you. You slowly turned around, wary of what awaited you.

“Oh Jesus you scared me” you exclaimed, happy to see it was just Florence.

“Ahahaahah sorry girl, you want to tell me why you were sniffing around like a police doggy?”

“I'm smelling something… I think there's someone in the warehouse.”You said now once again warry

Did someone find your hiding place? And if so, what could you do? You couldn’t just attack them, they could be civilians, drugged up ones but you know, still civilians.

No, it’s impolite to say this but no humans could possibly smell like that without using substances. Humans smelled bland, just a little salty but that's it. You were used to it, but that’s no normal one.

You heard something about some sort of compound V that was temporary weeks ago. Temp V it was called if you remember well. But if it’s that, that meant those people didn’t have any good intentions.

“Prepare yourself, I think we have some fake ass supes in here” you warned Florence. No one would be killing y’all without the both of you putting up a fight. Florence’s eyes started to have their usual white glow while yours stayed normal. Hers were just a result of concentrating light. Nothing much but damn it looked cool as hell ans could scare supes.

You slowly opened the door enough for Florence to enter with you. Calmly following the track your sense of smell gave y'all, it seemed to be coming from behind the boxes. Now you were sure as hell that there was someone in here. You were anxious that it could be some supes with an unusual body odour. Someone like Homelander, Black Noir or worse.

You were exhausted from your day of running around New York for even scraps of infos. So to be faire, you weren't up for a fight. But it didn't matter, there's people in this weird ass basement. You couldn’t really call it a basement, it was closer to an underground city you managed to put together. And if someone asked you, you would say it was pretty. There are many lights coming from bioluminescent species a villain called Nerissa made. It didn't have stores or anything, no it was just a few offices and bedrooms. Kinda like a hotel but instead of the big building it was a cave. Anyway, it was truly a little paradise on earth.

But you're getting carried away. Right now all that mattered was making sure no one knew where the entrante was. The metal door was a trap. The actual door is on the ground under some glued up together boxes. You always feel like some sort of movie spy when you use it. Urgh, you're getting carried away once again.

The odour seems to have moved. You quickily turned your head and saw nothing.

“Hey, maybe you're just tired… I think we should go home” Florence told me, unsure of herself.

“Yeah, yeah maybe you’re right let's go home.”

Soldier Boy was in a car with Annie and Kimiko while the rest of the team was at the warehouse.

“Why aren't we with them again?”he asked, not seeing how it could be a good idea to do so. I mean, a group of dickless normies agaisnt some fucked up supes?? At that point they just want to die.

“Because, one of the girls can separate compound V from our blood wich makes us useless. Unless you wanna look like you’re 100 years old, I’d recommend we stay here until Butcher has made a deal with them.”said Annie already annoyed by the old supe presence. I mean for crying out loud, it always seemed like his brain was producing too much testosterone. Respect for woman was far from him, he was always calling both her and Kimiko ‘woman’, asking them for a beer, no ordering them for a beer like they were his maids and ugh just so much bullshit like that.

Annie was pulled out of her thoughts when her phone started ringing.

“Hello?”

“Hi babe, uhm we’re actually gonna need your help. The door it’s uhm, it’s too heavy for us.”

“So you want us to risk our lives for a stupid deal?”

“give it back- NO butcher I said give it back-”

Annie heard Hughie fighting with someone.

“Evening sunshine. The deal isn’t stupid first off fuck off kindly, second if you happen to have around a thousand of supe allies then I’ll consider letting go of the plan. So, do you have those sweethearth?”

“No obviously but-”

“Didn’t think so. My plan it is then. Now, yall bunch of bollocks ought to join us at the warehouse” Butcher said before hanging up.

Y/n was walking to her quarters when Evangeline called her to come into her office.

Apparently she wanted to discuss about the team. Something about welcoming new members.

“You wanted to see me miss?”

“Yes, you see I’ve noticed that being only a team of four maybe wasn’t enough for our next targets.So I selected a few files about other villains. And I wanted your opinion on them” The group leader said with a smile.

“Sure miss no problems”You agreed with a kind smile in return.

“Oh come on don’t call me miss we’re almost friends you and me” Evangeline laughed.

Nerissa Montera

Aka Vineyard

Abilities : control over plants, can create life and new forms of life, degree in biology

Weakness : If a plant she's controling gets hurt, she will feel the pain, often get lost in her thoughts.

Cordelia Tremblay

Aka shark mouth

Abilities : Has a mouth with thousands of shark like teeth. Can rip anything with her mouth, has heightened senses, force, speed and intelligence

Weakness : Scared of blood, often gets huge headaches to the point of falling unconscious.

Rae Brown

Aka Funnel-Web

Abilities : can crawl on walls and roofs, has the ability to form strong webs, heightened senses, force and speed.

Weakness : Highly sensitive wrists since the webs come from there, is extremely wary of light since it causes her eyes pain.

Rebekah Acharya

Aka Actias

Abilities : can fly thanks to wings ressembling those of a moth. She is extremely fast and intelligent.

Weakness : can be compromised by lights easily so need to wear special glasses and is scared of heights

“Oh wow we got a good bunch eh?”

“Yes, now who should we pick according to you?”

Asked Evangeline, curious of her answer.

“Well honestly I would take them all, we could use as much help as we can and they all seem pretty powerful and useful. Yeah I'd say pick them all.”

“All of them uh? I didn't think of it honestly I was scared it would be too much for all of you but if you can handle it it's fine by me” said the older woman.

At Vought’s tower, things were getting agitated.

“So you're fucking telling me now silver man doesn't respond anymore? For fuck's sake Ashley do something before I get rid of those people my self jesus on a cross!” Homelander was beyond pissed. Supes have been missing left and right and those that were found had to be pumped full of compound V again. Apparently some villain had the ability to separate it from blood, what a fucking shitty ass mess.

“We're trying to sir but we have no idea who's doing all of that, none of the villains we created matches to what we found. I'm afraid you're going to have to wai-” Ashley was cut off by Homelander choking her. His red leather gloves were clenched so hard around her throat she could feel pressure behind her eyes.

“Now you're going to listen to me carefully you bitch. I need a suspect by friday. Or else I'll go and find them and then end the day with you. Understand?” He asked aggressively. Ashley tried to nod her head but could only gasp for air

“I SAID. UN.DER.STAND?” He was now screaming at the poor scared woman. She let out a small chocked ‘yes’. Homelander then let go of her now bruised up throat. Ashley fell to the floor now coughing up a storm. She was so tired of this job, but she knew she would be killed if she left. She knew too much, too much dirt, infos on weakness to be let go. But one day she'll escape. She was sure of it.

A/N : Thank you for reading and again if you have any suggestions feel free to tell me . I'll update when I'll be at 10 notes, cause yk it means people like it😊

@demodemo909

@weaponxgames

[forbidd3n-w1re]

Letting the walls down - Billy Butcher x Reader

hey-ho! i've had this idea for a while and had to pour it out, enjoy! 

 originally this was supposed to be a butcher x reader but while writing it i put in a tiny bit of hughie x reader, i mean you can see it if you squint lol-

 summary : you and butcher have been somewhat okay friends for a while, and even though he doesn't want to acknowledge it, he cant push everyone away.

 warnings : so much angst (i feed off of it.) nightmares, beating up, billy actually being nice to someone(you lol), billy also attacking hughie, scars, panic attack, flashbacks, heavy alcohol use, passing out, venting, traumatic past, mention of shootings, "cunt"'s (tell me if i forgot something please!)

 if any of these trigger you, please dont read this fanfic!

commission : nope!

 word count : ≈2800 words

 genre : angst, hurt/comfort (someone's gotta do it, right?)

(im so sorry this is so long i went wild with this one)

 //////~~`×`~~//////

Butcher wasn't a talkative type when it comes to his past. In fact, he never let anyone come close enough to him to know him very well. In the team, he was just the leader, the one that organized the plan and the strategy, the one that went head-first into danger.

You? You we're the one that held the team like a magnet.

When Hughie first joined, Butcher looked like he'd screw his head off if he made one wrong step. Every single time Butcher offended him and told him he was a cunt, you'd fight back for him. You knew that Hughie had it in him, he knew how to be defensive, but at that time it was risky to talk back to Butcher due to the fact how much Billy hated him. It happened a lot. It was like you were Butcher's tranquilizer.

Hughie appreciated everytime you stood on his side, even after every glare Billy made to you. Billy knew the death glare would work on Hughie because he looked like he shat his pants, but you? You did not twitch at all. No shiver. Nothing. You couldn't even bother to look back at him.

Sooner or later, Butcher's "cunt"'s and "wimp"'s that were addressed to Hughie weren't that frequent anymore. Sure, Butcher without using the word cunt at least once in a day was nonexistent, but they weren't said to Hughie anymore.

Until one day they had a pretty big fight about the new member, Annie, AKA Starlight. Butcher, the no.1 Supe hater immediately started swearing at Hughie for bringing her to the hideout. After some time, Annie left, and then the shit hit the fan.

"Oi, kid. Who the fuck do you think you are, bringin' over here some random chick? Who is, apparently, a fuckin' Supe?" Butcher started yelling at the guy, pushing him around.

"Listen, I-I know it wasn't a good idea, but please, hear me out--"

Butcher grabbed Hughie by the collar, slamming him against a pillar hardly, and the smaller figure of Hughie's let out a loud grunt.

"Shut yer' fuckin' trap right the fuck now. Do yer' understand in what danger we could be if she had a mic?" Butcher held his collar more tightly now, looking at him like he might just chop off his head at that moment. "No, you don't, Hughie. You know why? 'Cause you're nothing but a trashy, shitty li'l cunt who had managed to grab a single bit of luck to join my little team. If you continue being a little pussy, I swear on my mother that i will-"

Sensing that the fight seriously escalated, and totally not because Hughie had started to breathe more shallowly because of how hardly his chest was pressed against the pillar, you stood off the couch, grabbed a foldable plastic chair and pushed Butcher as far away from Hughie as you could.

Butcher not detecting the sudden attack had a much more violent tone in his voice now. He wanted a fair fight.

"Oi, the fuck do you think you're doin', li'l shit?" Not bothering to deal with Butcher's bickering, you focused on helping Hughie not fall down as he heaped for gasps of air.

"Hey, Hughie, focus. Focus on your breathing, alright?" You got the comment from other members of the team that you and Billy actually had a lot in common, but the calmness of your voice was something Billy could never achieve probably. Hughie looked at you, his look revealing how many apologies he wanted to tell you for making this now your problem, but you only gave him a hopeful nod and a smile. "Go take a seat on the couch. I have an inhalator in one of my jackets if you need it, alright hun?" Hughie only let out a quiet agreement, following your orders.

Butcher, on the other hand, his eye twitched a little when hearing the nickname you gave Hughie. He knew that the nicknames you gave to the team were all in platonic meanings, but he still felt that little twinge in his heart when he knew the silly nicknames weren't for him.

You followed up now to Butcher, staring up at him. He reeked of alcohol, probably from last night, and cigarettes. He tried to hold up a pissed face to you, but you knew he couldn't do it. Everyone has their secrets, Butcher's was his past, and the fact that everytime you looked badass, he loved it.

"Stay the fuck away from him, or I will pluck out your little so-called "bollocks", one by one, painfully." There was your angry tone, along with a bit of mocking his british dialect. Others were right, you guys did have a lot in common. Billy only smirked at your threat. Billy pushed past you, grabbing his jacket, and stated something that made you chuckle. "Im going out for a drink, try to stay out of the little wimp's underwear while I'm gone."

Hughie and you were alone in the hideout now. Annie left, M.M. was in a visit to his daughter, and Frenchie and Kimiko went on a date.

Approaching the curly haired figure, you heard his small coughing fits. Surely Butcher didn't hurt him that badly, right?

"Hughie? Hun, you alright?" Putting your hand on his shoulder from behind, you jumped over next to him. Hughie brought his head up, only this time he wasn't startled.

"Yeah, I'm alright. Thank you for everything that you've done, really. Especially back there, not everyone has the guts to practically throw Butcher away with a chair." He gave you a small smile.

"No problem. Besides, he shouldn't act like that towards anyone. And Annie was really sweet too-"

Hughie stopped you, quickly apologizing, but immediately continuing.

"No, no, I understand him. I shouldn't have done that, besides he isn't a big fan of Supes, and Annie might've had a mic but I know she wouldn't. We can't be careful enough, if they find us we're practically doomed." Hughie was now on Butcher's side at this point.

"But, you know… He does have a weak spot for you." Hughie gave you a smirk, knowing that if you had water in your mouth you'd probably spit it out after hearing this.

"Pardon?" You looked at him with wide eyes, not believing a single word the curly haired boy just said.

"Back there, when you threatened him. I know that he has this façade of his where he pretends like he's the strongest man alive, but he gave you a smile upon hearing you. I think he even liked the fact that you weren't scared to stand up to him."

You got up from the couch, looking at Hughie with the biggest shock. "What the hell do you mean?"

Hughie just smirked, "You should go check up on him. See how he's doing. I think you're the only one of us that might get closer to him. Don't tell him I sent you there though, please." Nodding in agreement, you grabbed one of your oversized leather jackets and went to the door. Soon, Hughie stopped you.

"Oh, and Y/N? Thank you."

"No problem, hun." And you headed out to find your stupid ass loverboy.

//////~~`×`~~//////

Heading into the bar, you looked at the clock that was placed next to the cups. The clock showed half past 11, and your view fell onto the slouched, buff figure that was Billy. Walking up to him, you tapped flicked his head lightly as a sign for him to wake up.

"Oiiii, yer lil cuntttt…" He sounded wasted more than he ever was. He used to drink a lot on work, one time he even wanted to dance with M.M., but the 17 glasses of whisky gave you a very bad impression on how he felt right now.

"Hi to you too, cunt ass." You lightly shook him with a small curl of your lips on your face showing.

"The fock do ya want, kid? Can't you see a man tryin' to enjoy himself?" His british accent came out even more unclear when he was intoxicated, which would be funny if he wasn't laying down on the table, alone in the pub. "Go get me another round, be useful for once, N/N." That was a new one, you never heard anyone from the team use a nickname on you.

"Absolutely not. Butcher, c'mon, get up, we're leaving." You tried to give him a hand, but he wouldn't budge.

"Where the hell we goin'?" He groggily asked.

"Im driving you to my home since I don't know your adress.Now Butch, please, cooperate."

Agreeing for once, he put his arm around your shoulders and hung onto you as he struggled to walk.

Walking to your car, you felt like you were walking sideways the whole time, probably because he was much bigger than you. "Lean onto the car, Butch, okay? I have to get my keys, then I'll help you get in the car." You felt the need to give him instructions and steps for everything, because after seeing him passed out on that table circled with whiskey shots, you felt more safe if you did that. Listening to your idea, he leaned on, and you quickly unlocked the car and opened his door. "Alright, hun, let's get you in." Your arm sneaked around his torso, guiding him to sit down into the passenger seat. He smiled lightly at the nickname. Buckling him up, you closed the door lightly and went into your seat, turning on the car and driving away.

//////~~`×`~~//////

Driving around the city, you realized Butcher was quietly snoring. Probably the most peaceful you've ever seen him.

Parking into your backyard garrage, you got out of your car and went to Billy's side, unbuckling him. "Hey, hun, wake up." You lightly gave him a slap on his right cheek, figuring it was a better idea than pouring a bucket of ice on him. Unfortunately, he was not a light sleeper. Giving up, you put your arms around him once more and somehow getting him out of the car, making him lean onto the vehicle for a moment while you locked it.

Swinging your arm once again, you went into your house and layed him down on the couch. By now, it was way past midnight and you came to the conclusion that he wont be waking up until the morning. You went into your bedroom, taking off your work clothes and dressing up into your pj's. Grabbing your phone for a sec to text Hughie that Butcher is in an okay condition, unfortunately you were stopped by Butcher's grunts from the living room.

Getting up and sighing, you realized how much your eyes were close to closing themselves and going off to sleep, how much your arms felt like you had a fist fight with someone and how much your legs burned, including your back that was almost folded in half by Butcher's weight while you carried him. You were tired, but you needed to keep the team in top shape. After all, you were their magnet, which also meant that you should be there for everyone, even Butcher. Even Butcher, who behaved like a bag of shit towards everyone. Knocking on the door side, you stepped in the living room, the floors creaking.

"Butcher, is everything alright?"

Your eyes headed towards his sleeping figure, but he didn't look like he was enjoying his resting time as he kept shivering and thrashing in several points of the night. You got the blanket at the table next to you, slowly putting it over him. The blanket used to provide you heat, but also comfort and a safe space. Maybe it would also work for him. Hopefully.

You wanted to bet that if Frenchie and M.M. were in the room with you right now, they'd probably take a bunch of pictures to make fun of you both. Thankfully, they weren't here, and you thought that Butcher might sometimes lack of rest. Climbing onto the couch, you lightly rose his head up and sat down, putting his head onto your lap and ruffling his hair. He was taller, so you didn't get a lot of opportunities to ruffle his hair at all. You didn't even know you wanted to do that, but you did either way.

Although he was a heavy sleeper, apparently he realized what you were doing. Still woozy from the alcohol and driving around, he barely recognized the place he was in when he woke up, but what he did see was your face. Along with the blanket that you gave him. Snuggling a bit closer to you, he pulled the blanket up closer to you so that you don't feel left out and he mumbled something.

"Didn't hear you, love… Mind trying to repeat it?" You spoke, removing a bit of his hair from his forehead, feeling that he was sweating a bit.

"Hnnnnhhh….y'know 'm nun' like 'im…" His drowsy voice was back, and even though you loved how calm he sounded, you started to get a bit worried. You didn't know the real reason why he was so uptight with everyone, not letting his guard down.

"Like who, love?"

"My fatherrrr…" You don't know his past. You shouldn't jump to conclusions. You only knew that he didn't like his father because Hughie told you that once when you went out for a coffee.

You face was forming a very sad look, trying to keep yourself at bay and not let a few tears drop down to his head. You have to stay strong for everyone. For you. For him.

"No… No, Billy, you're not. You will never be like him. You're better, darling, you know that yourself already." Stay strong. Keep yourself at bay.

"Yeh…yeh…y'know, those scars on my back, the ones you saw during the fight in Russia when you treated my wounds…" His voice didn't sound confused by the alcohol anymore, rather just sad, guilty and ashamed.

"Yeah, what about them love?"

"He did that to me. With a belt. Like I was a fuckin' animal. I tried to save him, Y/N, I-I really did." He was sniffling. If you weren't having the table lamp turned on, you'd think he has a pollen allergy.

This is where your façade started breaking down.

"Who, hun? Who did you try to save?"

"Lenny, my brother. He…" Butcher stopped, looking like he's having an internal fight with himself whether he should continue, because he's showing his vunerable side now. "He shot himself. Because of me." Tears started sliding down his cheeks, silent ones that have shown how much he has been through. How much he has been keeping the truth in for himself. How long he kept it from the public, knowing that if he was left alone his whole life he'd probably rot. The tears showed how much he hated himself for his actions, for leaving his younger brother unprotected, for not standing up to his father more often (even though he tried his best), how much he missed Becca, how much he regretted for leaving Ryan with Homelander, how much he hates looking vunerable. You, though? You didn't question any of his actions. You simply brushed away his tears and gave him a peck in his hair.

"I'm so sorry, love. I'm sorry that happened. Some things just make us stronger, but you were a child back then, you didn't deserve any of this. You didn't deserve to be treated like trash from your father. You didn't deserve Homelander suddenly flying fuck knows where with Ryan. Darling,"

You started, wiping another tear and smiling at him softly. He loved seeing your smile, whether it was a feisty one or a caring one, a silly one or a tired one. It made him feel… loved. "I believe in you. You are literally the strongest person I know. Not a monster. Not a killing machine. Not nothing. You are a person, just like the rest of us."

He sat back up from his sleeping position, only to lay his head down onto your shoulder. You've never seen him this affectionate, nobody probably ever has besides Becca. She was a nice woman, you remember Butcher showing pictures of her sometimes, it's a shame she had to die like that.

"Hey, Y/N." He looked at you.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for being a kind cunt."

"Back with your cuntiness, i see…" you chuckled, and he only closed his eyes again, deciding to fall into the slumber of sleep once again.

"Love ya', Y/N."

You swore you felt heat rise to your cheeks, hell if your blood wasn't all the way into your brain like you were hanging off of something.

"…Love you too, Billy."

His beard tickled the everloving shit of you, but you didn't have the guts to wake him up again. Not while he's getting something he hasn't had for a while, rest. Before joining him in the nap, you swung your arm across his shoulders, pulling him in closer. He seemed to like the action, scooting a bit closer to you.

 //////~~`×`~~//////

AAAA i hope you liked the fic!! i usually dont write a lot, but since the fandom needs more x reader fanfics (esp angst because im so good at it, haha slay), i've came in clutch! B)

 till next time!!

[brokenangelwings22]

Here's a sneak peek of my new IchiHime and RenRuki fic inspired by the fallout games, because dystopian fantasy and post apocalyptic lives rent free in my head. Chapter one should be up by this weekend. This fic won’t be exactly like the games, as I’ll be taking creative liberties, but I’m excited for the world building and lore.

“What was it?” Ichigo asked her as she returned to the kitchen.

“Some sort of package,” she mused. “How strange.”

“Were you expecting one?”

Grabbing a clean knife from the butcher block, Orihime shook her head.

“Not at all,” she said pensively, cutting through the tape with the knife. Orihime pulled out a pair of leotard-looking bright blue jumpsuits.

“What the hell?” Ichigo grabbed one and held it up, the limbs of the clothing unfurling limply.

“There’s a note,” she murmured, feeling out of sorts. “‘Your world ends soon. Get to these coordinates before it’s too late. You have until the thirty-first’.”

The orange-haired man’s lips thinned. When her gray eyes darted to him, she saw his jaw tick.

“Is this some sick joke?” Ichigo’s voice raised half incredulously and half livid. “Who sent it?”

Reading the short note once more, Orihime shook her head.

“It doesn’t say,” she replied, picking up her jumpsuit. “No return address either.”

“It has to be Uryû,” Ichigo seethed, taking the paper from her.

“Why would you think that?” Orihime’s attention was split between listening to him and examining the article of clothing.

“Because these are clearly fitted. One for you and one for me. Who else would send me one at your house? I live a few blocks away,” he muttered.

“It could be from anyone who knows that you spend most of your time here,” she hummed, holding out the fabric.

“Halloween?” Ichigo pondered aloud. “Yeah, gotta be a trick.”

“So are we going as The Incredibles or The Fantastic Four?”

“Orihime! This isn’t funny.”

Resting her back against the kitchen island, she sighed. She waited until Ichigo looked at her.

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe this is a dumb trick,” she said softly.

“Look,” he rested beside her. “It’s probably just a practical joke, but it gives me a weird feeling.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Orihime turned the possibilities around in her head as she creamed the butter and sugar.

“Might be an omen,” she murmured to herself. Ichigo leaned over and shut off the stand mixer.

“What do you mean?” He grabbed the glass bowl, detaching it from the appliance with ease.

“You heard me over the whirring?” She raised an eyebrow.

“No,” Ichigo replied as he stirred the dry ingredients into the creamed sugar, eggs, and butter. “I read your lips.”

“Next time I’ll try to say it in Spanish,” she laughed. Orihime sobered up as her thoughts hit again. Ichigo paused, waiting for her to elaborate.

“Okay, okay,” she soothed. “I’m thinking that whoever sent it, was warning us about something happening. I’m not certain why we were given these… spandex suits, but I don’t think we should overlook that this is real.”

“When is Tats coming back from her trip?” Ichigo asked, concentrating on the batter.

“Not for another week,” Orihime’s lips twisted in thought. “Which makes me uneasy, given the note.”

Ichigo grunted in response, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth in thought. His amber eyes flickered as he turned possibilities in his mind. Pulling his smartphone from his back pocket, he unlocked it and opened the search engine. The news filled the page and doom scrolling began.

“Uh,” he stuttered. “We should take it seriously.”

“Why’s that?” Orihime asked, looking at his phone.

“Las Noches has issued a declaration of war,” Ichigo muttered. His stomach turned.

The auburn-haired woman began to pace, untying her apron and pulling it off. To say she felt uneasy by that would be an understatement. Her brother and Ichigo’s father were both deployed, residing in Tres Cifras.

“Ichi—“ Orihime stammered. “What if—“

She felt his strong hands on her shoulders, causing her to stop. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his torso. She felt his fingers lace together to hold her in place, curling her against him.

“I know,” Ichigo whispered.

He rested his chin on her left shoulder, holding onto her tightly. The warmth his tall, muscular body provided calmed her down slightly. She was surrounded by all the emotions he only shared with her. It soothed her soul.

[skellys-selfships]

Cat and Mouse

{Author's note: I don't write like this often but, enjoy!! Husker alongside my lil self insert just brings me a ton of joy <3}

Taking in new residents was no easy feat, but none have bested the hotel's owner yet. Charlie Morningstar's shining optimism even convinced the newest patron that there was hope for redemption after all. She's seen sinners of all types and crimes, dealing with people who've taken the lives of others in cold blood has become a normality around the hotel. The newest guest being a former serial killer, taking the name of Malice now, they had a particular chaotic, harsh and rebellious attitude. However, beneath their sour surface, they wished that life could've been more, different from their short lived fate.

After Charlie gives Malice the basic introduction and tour of the hotel, she shows them to their room. They took no hesitation in immediately trying to fall the fuck asleep, slightly regretting even opening up to a complete stranger. Doubting wether this would even work, if this was just an overhyped, uneducated attempt at group therapy or not. They uncomfortably passed out in mere minutes. The next morning they kept a low profile, howerver it wasn't long until Charlie pulled them out of their anti-social bubble. They could only sigh in exasperation as Charlie took them by the hand, leading them to the bar nearby.

"Malice, I'd like to introduce you to someone! He's-......Well, he doesn't talk a lot but I think you two could learn to be-..."

Malice scoffs.

"Be more what?"

"Oh I meant nothing like that! It could help you to talk to someone, maybe someone you can relate to a bit!"

Malice sighs as Charlie excitedly pulls them up onto one of the nearby barstools. She leaned over the bar, kicking her heels as she reached over to the bartender, poking him on the shoulder. He turned around, sighing in annoyance as he furrowed his thick, feathery brows.

"Husker-"

"It's Husk. Whadda what?"

She gestured towards a very anxious Malice. They very obviously avoided eye contact, Husk being almost three times their height, looming over them, came as a bit of a surprise to Malice. They spun around in their seat as Charlie continued to coax Husk into conversation.

"Husk-......Since you're going out to restock some stuff here at the bar, why don't you take our newest resident with you? I'm sure it could be-"

He shook his head, interrupting her.

"You really pairing me up with the miniature butcher? Well shit, ain't I flattered?! The answer is no."

Malice began climbing off their seat, slightly hurt by his comment, they made it up in their mind that maybe this whole thing wasn't worth it. First proper day here and it's already shit. Maybe Malice could never repair the damage they caused in their former life. Just as they were leaving, they heard Charlie scold Husk, earning a frustrated groan from him. He slowly followed Malice, his tail and wings dragging behind him as he slouched over them. They started walking faster over to the stairs once they felt his presence above them. As Malice began climbing up the stairs, their ears flopped back in annoyance, even a little in disappointment. Malice squinted up at Husk as he shoved his way past them, blocking their path, he awkwardly leaned against the railing.

"Don't take it personally kiddo-"

"The name's Malice, and I'm not a kid, I'm 21....goddamn."

"21? Just that? Heh, ya got a lot of learning to do. Anyways, what I said back there-"

"Yeah. You don't gotta apologize for Charlie's sake, I don't need everyone to wanna be my fuckin' friend."

Husk sighs and runs his claws over his ears, shaking his head.

"If ya'd quit fucking interrupting me. Don't take it to heart, we've all done stupid shit to end up here. You're not better or worse than anyone here, okay?......Malice."

They look up at him, raising a brow, a smirk curls up their face. They couldn't help but stare at Husk for a moment, as intimidating as his height is, what's not to love? He's a large winged cat....

Snapping out of the trance they were caught in, Malice dryly chuckles. They squeeze their way by Husk, looking back at him with a softer stare.

"So....should I get my coat or not?"

He nods at them, only a hint of a smile spreading across his mouth as they ran up to their room. Husk steps back to the bottom of the stairs, taking a seat on the lower steps, he couldn't help but feel a little guilty for offending Malice. Then again, why should he care? They did horrible things in their past and think they can be redeemed....but they're striving to be better. Could they be better? Why did he suddenly give a shit about someone so quickly? He cupped his face in his hands, groaning in frustration and equally, confusion. Malice soon exiting their room, they slowly walked down to Husk, sitting next to him on the stairs.

"You ok, man?"

His ears perked up, a little confused. It's been a long time since he's heard a question like that. Such a small, simple question and yet it felt so refreshing. His heart felt as if it reactivated upon this question, that someone could genuinely care and be concerned. No, it couldn't be that. Not ever, especially not from someone he knew for only 5 minutes. Not a young, attractive person like Malice. It was just a question and nothing more.

"I'm fine, whatever. Let's just get going."

"You sure, big guy? I mean, we all aren't too ok, we're literally in Hell! But ya know, are you keepin' it together?"

He glanced down at them as the two left the hotel, their eyes were large, yet piercing and malevolent with such microscopic pupils. He couldn't get a read on what Malice's motives were and it slightly angered him. Why did they give a shit how he was feeling? What could they possibly want?

He led them to the car in front of the hotel. The car ride into the city wasn't nearly as awkward as the two feared it would be.

"Ey, Husk...how'd ya end up working for the hotel anyways?"

"Well, ya see...a little advice if you want me to do ANY kinda work, always include free booze."

He chuckled to himself as Malice shook their head.

"I mean, hey...I got no place no judge! I can bet ya that I can smoke more than you can drink, not something I'm too proud of but-"

"Is that a challenge?"

They squint up at him, smirking playfully. "You're a bit of an ass, y'know that? I like that about you."

And now it was awkward. Husk broke any eye contact he'd kept with Malice, keeping his eyes strictly on the road now. His ears shifting back, his breathing became a little hoarse after a moment. It's been a long time since someone's said they like ANYTHING about him, he just wasn't at all prepared to respond to a remark such as that. Malice looked up at him, a concerned glint in their eye.

"Hey uhhh.....sorry?"

"F-for what, kid?"

"Calling you an ass. I didn't mean it like th-"

"It's fine, you didn't say nothin' wrong."

Malice inched out of the car slowly as they stopped at their destination, staring at him, feeling a little embarrassed about actually getting friendly with him. They figured he was a bit more like them than he'd ever admit, that socializing wasn't his strongest suit. They tried not to let his deadpan responses drag down their mood too much. As the two went through a few of Hell's shabby markets, Malice tried their damnest to keep the conversation going between them and Husk. Something about him made them feel comfortable around him, he wasn't exactly friendly, but he didn't feel like a genuine threat. They couldn't help but feel a little bad for him, he's obviously out of his usual element.

"Sooooo....do you just work at the hotel or is the whole redemption thing on the table for you too?"

"Ehhh....Charlie says there's a chance for everyone here. I don't think so, for me anyways. But I gotta respect that girl's effort, dealing with me is enough, but all those other assholes ontop of that....sheesh."

"I don't think she's "dealing" with you dude, ya know that some people just.....give a shit? With no strings attached."

Husk could've shattered the bottle in his hand with how hard his grip clenched down on it. Malice could see they struck a nerve, he hissed through gritted teeth down to them.

"Yeah, sure. I'd pay to fuckin' see that."

"Okay, big guy....I don't wanna spill all my beans seein' as we barely know each other right now, but I had someone like that myself."

"And now you don't..."

They tried not to let his remark bother them, it was factual. What disturbed them more was the thought of him projecting his own feelings onto them, this guy has a LOT of issues, and hard as he's trying to just keep it together. He obviously needed someone to just talk to, it was a sentiment they could relate to, Husk seemed rough around the edges, and while he may doubt Malice's experience due to their youth. They were all the wiser when it came to getting a read on people, one of the many tricks they kept up their sleeve. Maybe they could crack this guy open and find a genuine friendship with him, could be a nice motivator to better themself. Killing two birds with one stone, maybe the two of them could find redemption with each other.

Malice began walking to another isle, leading Husk with them. Their tail swaying back and forth slowly as they tried to think of anything to say.

"Hey sooooooo....do you usually go on outings like this?"

"Eh, yeah. It's part of the job to keep shit on my end together."

"Ya ever, y'know? Fuck around?"

They mischievously smiled at him as his face scrunched up with a confused look.

"Do I wanna know what you mean-"

"I mean maybe we could have fun!"

"And what's your definition of fun?......"

Malice's eyes sparkled with a daring shimmer, their devilish grin stretching wider across their face. Husk's eye was caught by their expression, it was both chaotic and alluring. Something about the way their eyes widened, their long lashes fluttering about, made something deep within his chest spark a sense of warmth. Their laugh was abysmal, sounding similar to a paper shredder filled with shrapnel. And yet....the way their heart shaped nose scrunched up, the way their smile flashed their bucked teeth...was oddly charming. Their unhinged, mischievous joy felt so genuine, Husk couldn't fathom why they'd want to share their little moments of happiness with him out of anyone. Malice chuckled out a few words.

"Maybe we can fuck around! Nothing too extreme but ya know~.....piss around a little."

They ran off to another isle, Husk keeping a close eye on them as he cocked one brow to the side. Following Malice closely, he signed in exasperation at the sight of them teetering at the very top of a shelf, pulling the rusted cover off the ceiling vent. They turn around, smiling at him and squinting.

"Ya get up to the roof through here, jackass!"

He rolls his eyes, gesturing towards the door.

"Don't trouble yaself. C'mere."

Malice climbs down to him, the both of them leaving the store into the back alley. They look up towards Husk, tilting their head.

"Did you pay for ANY of that shit?!"

"Heh....nope."

"We're really on a straightforward path to redemption, ain't we?!"

The two head down the darkest corner of the alleyway, Husk looking up into the crimson light above the building. He knelt down, reaching out a hand towards Malice, his ears drooping down.

"I don't do this for ANYONE, okay? This stays between us...or I'll break your fuckin' neck, kid."

Malice takes his hand, he hoists them up closer to himself awkwardly, avoiding eye contact as he shifted his wings around. Taking flight into the, soon onto the roof, he let Malice back onto their feet, instantly turning his back to them, his wings fluttering and hiding his slouching frame. Malice pulls a cigarette from their pocket, lighting it as they sat next to him, taking a puff from the cigarette as they gazed up towards his deadpan face.

"Whadda ya mean you don't "do that" for everyone? Don't like bein' handsy?"

"I don't use these-.."

He flexes his wings, folding them neatly together behind himself, he holds out a hand, awaiting for Malice to offer him their cigarette.

"Why not? Kinda badass having big fuckin' wings, you can just-.....zizz all around, whenever ya want."

Their eyes soften as he sighs, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the red sunlight above.

"Not much has changed in terms of.....this. Not the kind to look twice at, y'know? Eh, why the fuck am I telling you this-"

"Heyyyyy, ey! The fuck you mean "not the kind to look twice at"?! You sayin' you ain't a motherfuckin' DIME-PIECE, boy?"

He slightly jumps back, his face scrunching up in disgust. Flicking the ashes off the cigarette, he quickly looks away from Malice, taking in another huff of smoke, mumbling to himself.

"Someone needs a pair of glasses...."

Malice snatched the cigarette from between Husk's claws, sitting all too close to him, they squinted at him.

"You're not kiddin' are ya? You actually think that?!"

He shrugs and steals the cigarette back, nonchalantly turning away, hoping to change the subject, he pulls the brim of his tophat over his face. Malice scoffs in disbelief, standing up to attempt reaching his height, they inched uncomfortably closer to him.

"Nah, nah-...you're actually tellin' me that you think you ain't a dimepiece?! Bull-fuckin'-shit!...."

He instantly snaps away in the opposite direction from Malice, nearly knocking over the bags of various booze bottles placed next to him, he desperately tried to keep his balance, but slipped from his seat a little. Malice couldn't help but snicker from the effect their remarks made on him, he definitely wasn't used to this kind of attention, and looked to be in an embarrassing amount of denial. Picking himself back up, he furrowed his brow, angrily pouting, his tail flicked from side to side as he grumbled in a low tone.

"Don't act fuckin' cute, doesn't suit ya."

"Aww you think I'm cute~?"

He groans in disgust, standing up and preparing to walk away, hissing back at Malice.

"Whatever it is you're trying, the answer is no."

Malice tilted their head, their tail wagging from side to side, their eyes following Husk's movement.

"Don't you wanna know why I wanted to come up here?"

He groaned, stumbling back to his seat, sighing heavily in frustration. He fumbled with his claws, looking away from Malice. He despreately wanted to make eye contact with them, but every nerve in his body told him it was a terrible idea. The two sat awkwardly in silence for a moment or two. Only for a moment up until Malice scooted closer to Husk, peering upwards, they waved their hand around in the air, gesturing towards the sky.

"Kinda weird ain't it? Look!.....no stars. No goddamn milky way, no Dippers, Orion's belt damn disappeared on me! Not a shitting star in sight..."

Husk moved a bit closer to them, peering upwards along with them, his face inched towards Malice. Unknowingly, the fluff at the side of his face brushed up against Malice's ear, their large ear beginning to twitch and flap around startled him.

"Ah-....shit, my bad-"

"Oh, it's whatevs, man! Heh, you're lost in the sauce, eh?"

His lip curls into a snarl as he backs away, his eyes returning to viewing the deep rosy skies. Malice leans their head against his shoulder, sighing in wonder."Little stuff you take for granted you kinda end up missing the most, eh?...."

For a while the two enjoyed the silence, Husk resting his head upon Malice's head subconsciously as the two gazed at the skies above....Deep inside, Husk could feel a strange sense of weakness, not completely unfamiliar, but a feeling he's been out of touch with for far too long. He wasn't fully even aware what he was feeling, but it was pleasant. Something about Malice's strange presence made him feel comfortable, not just around them, but comfortable in his own skin.

A feeling he almost forgot even existed. While the two weren't even going out of their way to make physical contact, the touch of another person felt warming, for once it was from someone not completely invading his privacy and personal space. This time it was different, natural.

"Umm...this is nice and all, but I think we should head back, Charlie's probably waiting on this shit-..."

Malice sprung up from their seat, awkwardly chucking as they stood up."Yeah, don't wanna look TOO suspicious, ya know? Know what I mean, eh?!"

The two exchanging a stiff glance, Malice wiggling their eyebrows in a jokingly seductive manner as they finger gunned in Husk's direction. Husk's brows furrowing as he scowled in discomfort. Malice laughing off his reaction, their ears flopping back.

"Oh I didn't mean-....we-...ok yeah, whatevs. Let's get goin'."

The two fumbled with the bags of various booze bottles in an uncomfortable silence. Husk staying completely silent on the short flight down from the building, Malice staring up at him every now and then on the walk back to the car. Everytime Husk felt the presence of their eyes upon him, he'd reluctantly glance down at them, Malice instantly looking away. It was hard for Malice to keep their eyes off Husk, they found him to be very easy on the eyes, but it felt like much more than that. They felt a warm sense of comfort around him, while he seemed to have such a hard exterior, nothing about him felt hostile. Quite the opposite in fact, as if he was in a constant state of self protection.The car ride back to the hotel shaped up to be quiet. Malice felt a little guilty for their one-off joke, they knew they meant nothing by it, but it made the energy between the two uncomfortable, just when things started sailing smoothly. They discreetly looked over to Husk, gathering any and all courage they could, Malice let out a heavy sigh.

"Hey, man....it was a dumbass joke back there, ok? I didn't mean nothin' by it, I swear, I.....sorry if it made shit weird for you."

They curled back up into their seat, a little moment of silence passing as Husk merely shrugged, mumbling in response.

"You're pretty straightforward ain't ya?"

Malice almost jumping out of their seat, scoffed.

"The fuck are you insinuating, you old cunt?!!"

They couldn't help but blush in embarrassment at his comment. Admittedly he was VERY attractive....but things can't move that fast. Can they?

Malice coiled up, scowling at Husk, he chuckled a little upon seeing their scrunched up expression. His eyes were soon fully caught by them, losing his concentration, he couldn't help but stare. Malice was noticeably petite, so tiny and yet so fearsome looking, so small he could probably hold them in their entirety just in one hand.His line of thoughts were cut short when Malice shouted fearfully, slapping Husk on the thigh with one hand, their other hand frantically pointing to the road ahead of the.

"Are you high? You looney toony fuck, are you tryin' to turn us into meat paste?!! Watch the road!"

His eyes snapped onto the road, his heart nearly popped as he quickly maneuverd the car back onto the road. His mind was wildly distracted, trying with every ounce of mental strength to not glance at Malice's hand still gripping his thigh. He tried to shake their hand away, after an attempt he stopped, both out of sudden panic and in slight hopes they just wanted their hand to rest there. As he neared the hotel, he avoided eye contact with Malice, hurrying out of the car, he rushed back into the hotel, Malice following closely behind. They tried to catch up to his speed, attempting to catch his attention.

"Hey, man-..what the matter with you? I'm not pissed at ya or anything! Why the mood swing?!"

As the two entered the hotel, he stopped in front of Malice. Groaning, rubbing his hand over his ears, he heavily sighed.

"Nothin', kiddo.....sorry for almost driving you into a brick wall."

Malice scoffed in confusion as he took his leave, heading to the bar. It was empty, just for now, he enjoyed these quieter moments he could have at the bar before more residents emerged from their rooms. He knew it wouldn't last long, but any time to himself he could manage to get was some semblance of peace. However it didn't feel the same this time, the quiet felt far more empty, being alone felt more....lonely. His mind was drawn to his moment with Malice earlier, sitting quietly, gazing at the skies. Nothing was said in that moment and nothing needed to be said. After a moment of pondering upon his confused mental state, Husk felt a little foolish for even wanting the company of another person, he'd always preferred being left alone, being able to do as he pleases unbothered. No matter what, everyone around him always pushed him to speak, to smile, to act more welcoming, to be something he just never felt like being. But Malice didn't ask any of those things from him. They just let him exist as he was.He couldn't understand it, Malice didn't even seem put off by his attitude, or presence. What could they want from him? He could feel himself growing frustrated even trying to rationalize it, his tail angrily flicking as his ears lay low in an annoyed stance.

Moments later, his ears perked back up as he spotted Malice creeping back into the bar. They struggled to climb upon one of the barstools, panting as they pulled their way up.

"Hey, you-.....you ok, man?"

He was a little shocked by the question. Why could anyone care if he was okay? Why would they ask, or care about his feelings? And most importantly, why did their concern make him feel so warm inside? He could only shrug nonchalantly in response.Malice diving in closer to him, giving him a firm hug. It came as a bit of a shock to Husk, but he didn't find himself recoiling, it was strangely enjoyable, comforting. He attempted to reciprocate Malice's advance, but his entire body stood stiff, his arms felt as if they had frozen. He stood still withing Malice's embrace, awkwardly looming over them. Malice chuckled softly, stretching their tiny arms around Husk, giving him a pat on the back.

"You're kinda weird, ya know that? I like it....I like your vibes, Husk. Catch ya later, tater?"

Malice grinned at Husk as they walked off, heading upstairs, giving him the finger guns as he stood completely still, still processing their touch. It was completely unexpected, yet it didn't feel overbearing.As the night dragged on, Husk could barely focus on his job. Everyone's overlapping voices at the bar were like white noise, none of it mattered, nothing happening as of now mattered. Much has mattered to him at all for such a long time. It was a strange wanting feeling that he slightly disgusted himself with for even thinking, but the temptation to keep peeking around, in hopes that he'd see Malice at the bar, burned into his mind. His thought welling up until he could feel his mind snap from how overwhelming the atmosphere was, coupled with the overthinking building up inside him. He stormed out of the bar, not saying a word to anyone, shoving his way into the nearby restroom, locking the door behind him. Only soon after he shut himself away, he heard a knock on the door, he hissed in frustration as Charlie called out to him.

"Husk? What's wrong...?"

"Everything."

He grumbled, keeping his back pressed up against the door. Charlie sat beside the door, speaking much more quietly to him through the door.

"Husk....c'mon- don't be a baby, use your words.."

"Stop giving me a reason to act like a baby, ya keep talkin' to me like I am one."

A long pause lay in the air before Husk began to speak again.

"Charlie, why did you wanna introduce Malice to me...?"

Charlie sat for a moment, collecting her thoughts before giving a response.

"Well...I think they're like you in some ways!....and they need to talk to people, YOU need to talk to people-"

She cut her own sentence short, taking a few seconds to think to herself before speaking up again.

"Husk? Did something happen between you two....?"

Husk shifted around, attempting a few times to speak, only to find himself stumbling over his own words. Charlie's worry only grew stronger as she coaxed the truth from him. After a few moments he managed to spit out a few words.

"It's-.....complicated. It doesn't fuckin' matter, kiddo..."

Charlie scoffing in response, she wasn't gonna let Husk shut her out, just as he seemed to be getting more comfortable at the hotel too! She partially felt at fault for even introducing Malice to him. She stayed pressed up against the door, determined to get to the bottom of Husk's frustrations, she's never been the type to leave anyone's side. Taking a deep breath, she patiently spoke out to Husk through the door.

"Ya know, Husker-...if any residents here bother my staff, my friends..that's something I can fix-"

With no hesitation, Husk interruped Charlie, in a slightly hurried manner of speech.

"NO-...it's not that. They ain't any bother, it's just....it's stupid, it's hopeless."

Something sparked in Charlie's eyes, she could instantly recognize the dread and neediness in Husk's voice, it certainly wasn't nearly as complicated as he made everything out to be. It took everything in her to not start giggling in excitement over this revelation. She almost ripped the door from the hinges in utter joy, standing up straight next to the door, slightly guffawing, she rhythmically tapped on the door, whispering to Husk.

"Oh my gosh- Husk! Does someone have a crush?!"

Nearly slamming his fist against the door, Husk instantly recoiled hearing those words. He felt a wave of anxiety and disgust with himself wash over his entire body, almost physically cringing at the thought of developing feelings for anyone, let alone Malice. He despreately tried to think of a response but everything went blank, he could only feel his entire face growing warm. Something inside him stirred as he began to stand.For the first time in a long time, Husk felt something in his heart. While the feeling entered his heart completely unannounced, he gave up trying to fight it, something inside his heart fluttered a little, his mind only allowing thoughts of Malice. The time he'd spent with them earlier that day, their touch, the peace between the two of them, their voice ringing through his mind. After a few seconds, his frustration faded, he attempted to speak, nearly feeling ashamed of the things he felt.

"It's-.....just not that simple."

Charlie tried to open the door, only for Husk to press it back close. In a now slightly worried tone, she whispered to him.

"Maybe you need to accept this. Maybe this is the chance you need, Husk.....just try."

Later that night, during the darkest hours, Husk could no longer sleep, his mind couldn't stay quiet no matter how much he longed for it to silence itself. All he could think about was Malice, every little thing about them. Awaking in a cold sweat, he tossed and turned in bed, until he could stand it no longer. Wandering out of his resting place, he noticed a sliver of light shining beneath the door to Malice's room. His ears instinctively perked up, only for him to mentally scold himself for even feeling excited. He stopped in his tracks knowing he couldn't just enter. He needed a damn good reason, and maybe needed to put himself together a little more, he looked and equally felt like a mess. He quietly raced back to his room, frantically searching for something even halfway decent to wear. He threw on the robe he found hanging on the door, as he pulled his wings through the holes in the back, he nearly knocked over his bedside table due to how finicky his wings were in that very moment. Rushing over to the nearest mirror, he combed his claws through his facial fur, he remained unhappy with his own appearance still, but was in too much of a rush to fully care.

He knew he couldn't come empty handed, rummaging through his bedside table, he took the nearest stack of cards and his pack of cigarettes subconsciously. As he once again stood near Malice's door, he took a few deep breaths, convincing himself he had some sense of confidence left within him before knocking. Much to his surprise, his knocks earned an instant response, the door flinging open, Malice standing in the doorway with a deranged smile upon their face. Slightly startled by their uncanny expression, Husk slightly jerked away in the opposite direction, Malice chuckling in response to his reaction.

"What are you doin' up so late, hmmm? Are there monsters under your bed?"

They jokingly questioned in a sing-songy tone. Inviting Husk into their room, they rose a brow as he walked by them. Following close behind, they flopped down onto the nearby sofa. Extending an arm and patting the empty half of the sofa next to them, Malice teasingly shook their brows up and down. Husk slightly recoiled at the suggestive expression on their face before they burst out giggling.

"I'm only fuckin' with ya! Come sit down-....Gotta say though, ya look snazzy!"

Husk sat stiffly, groping his pocket, making sure the contents inside didn't drop out. Being this close to Malice brought him great ease and yet an underlying sense of anxiety, his own thoughts they brought about were nothing short of terrifying but he never wanted this feeling to end. It was his new addiction. His heart felt as if it could burst, as Malice inched closer to him, he felt the tingling sensation of his own purr rumbling in his throat. As Malice slid next to him, a purr escaped from him, it was clear they heard it, but didn't react noticbly. His breath grew shaky as they leaned on his shoulder, smiling while staring right into his eyes.

"Sooooo, ya come here often?"

Malice snickered, Husk knew they were catching onto his nervousness. He frantically grabbed the items in his pocket, hoping he could distract them from the obvious redness in his face.

"Actually I-....well. I think we got off to a weird fuckin' start today and um, I was thinking...."

He pulled two cigarettes from the box in his pocket, waving one at Malice.

"Maybe we can at least end the night off on a less than weird note..."

Malice rose their brows as they snatched one of the cigarettes from between Husk's claws. Grabbing a lighter from the bowl full of various keys and items that was placed upon the coffee table, Malice lit both their cigarettes. Taking a few puffs, Husk spoke more quietly to Malice.

"Ya know, kiddo...I used to dabble in magic?"

He groped the cards in his pocket, nervously chuckling. Much to his surprise, Malice's eyes widened with wonder, their genuine interest struck him straight through the heart like nothing else. A soft, genuine smile spread across Husk's flushed face as he gestured to Malice. Offering for them to pick any card of their own choosing. Malice winking playfully as they pulled a card from the deck.

"I kinda like this one, reminds me of you....an absolute Ace-"

Husk couldn't help but let a raspy giggle slip out, instantly regretting it. Malice reciprocating his response with a smirk. Husk hesitating for a second before reaching out for their chosen card, the cigarette nearly dropping from his mouth as the two held eye contact for just a moment.Husk finally breaking their pleasant eye contact, he shuffles the deck of cards, and begins flipping through them all.

"See ya card anywhere, doll?"

Malice's eyes scanning over each card, unable to find the same Ace they picked out. Their brows furrowing in confusion and yet their eyes sparkled with awe.

"How'd ya do that?!"

Husk merely shook his head, tapping the ashes off of his cigarette in the ashtray on the nearby table. He smiled smugly as he snagged a card from that was neatly sitting in one of Malice's ears. Malice scoffed, playfully swatting at Husk's hand as he held the card in front of them.

He whispered to them with a faint note of pride in his voice.

"This yours?"

Malice giggling, as smoke shot out from their nose, they reach up to pat Husk on the shoulder.

"That's some good shit, my guy. I ain't ever seen a real magician!"

As Malice peered up, smiling at Husk, he let slip a soft gasp. Their face was so close to his, so close, so inviting. He hadn't felt this bundle of emotions well up in his chest, bleeding from all edges of his heart, not since he was a young man. Every part of his heart and what remained of his demon soul told him to lean in further, steal a kiss. His mind fought back the urge, too much could go wrong he kept telling himself. And yet...he couldn't keep his eyes off Malice's lips. Their glossy black lipstick upon their small, pouty lips, their wiggling, heart-shaped nose, their glassy, minty colored eyes, shining and sparkling. His entire body craved their touch, to be this close for the rest of his eternity in Hell. His face found itself nearing them, his breath growing heavy, nothing else mattered. His whole body stood completely still, the two had their foreheads pressed against each other. His eyes remained half lidded. Malice softly chuckles, nudging their head against his.

"Ya know....cats rub their heads on stuff to mark it?"

Husk's eyes widened as he sprung back, his face scrunching up as his cheeks nearly glowed red. Malice only giggling in response to his reaction. Husk fumbling with his stack of cards, stubbed his cigarette out on the nearby ashtray. Avoiding any eye contact, he began to storm out of Malice's room, covering his own face partially. Malice springing up after him with no hesitation, they peered up to him with a concerned glare. Husk grunting in frustration as he attempted to exit Malice's room. Malice gripped onto Husk's robe, looking up at him with pleading eyes, they muttered.

"Ain't ya even gonna say good night...?"

Husk grumbled, rolling his eyes, he leaned in towards Malice. Awkwardly putting his arm around them, patting them on the back, he mumbled.

"Ehh, whatever. See ya around, don't make a big thing outta it..."

Malice pulls him into a proper hug, fully embracing him as he sighed. After only a moment they released him from their miniature clutches, playfully waving to him as they shut their door. Husk's mind was restless the whole time he walked back to his room, attempting to sleep once again. He lay awake, considering the stream of thoughts currently plaguing his mind, until he could no longer bare to keep his eyes open.

The morning after, trying to ignore any past events, Husk went about his work at the bar as normal. Avoiding any eye contact or conversations with anyone, up until Charlie approached him, pointing out his behavior. He only responded in a few grunts before turning his back. Only to be startled seconds later after Charlie's departure, Malice took a seat near the bar, flicking their tail tauntingly. Husk's eyes shifted back and forth awkwardly, Malice tapping their nails upon the bar.

"So....Last night was interesting. One-timer, ooorrrrr.....?"

Malice grinned, a hint of anxiety behind their glowing fangs. Husk's tail twitched as his eyes fixed upon Malice's expression.The air was thickened with tension, only followed by silence. Husk sat upon the barstool next to Malice, lifting his wings around himself, seeming to hide away next to them. Pouring himself and Malice a drink, Husk's eyes darted back and forth, drumming his claws upon the bar as he inched closer to Malice. Completely avoiding eye contact, Husk's ears drooped as he managed to choke out a few words.

"It doesn't have to be a one-time thing....If that's fine with you."

He turned away, clearly hiding an anxious smile, his claws scraping against his glass. Malice softly nudged his shoulder, taking a swig of their drink, their hand met his, the two subtly intertwining fingers.

Husk cracking a slight smile, glanced down at Malice, earning an ear-to-ear wide grin from them, he quietly muttered to them.

"Does tonight sound alright?"

Taking Malice under his wing, the two continued to down their drinks, in the peace of each other's company.

❤️💚

[askaalaska-vdeppressed]

I Cannot Breath (So I Must Sing) Ch.1

Alastor X Fem Opera Singer Reader

Series Masterlist

The grand facade of the theater grew ever closer as Alastor walked the streets of New Orleans. They were barren at this time of day. The morning rush of commuters long past and the vibrancy of the night life doomed to be banished till the sun began to rest her head. Alastor’s stride was quick and confident, with just a hint of enthusiasm in his walk. This was just going to be grand! A quick meeting with this little ingenue, perhaps an observatory tour of the theater just for his own curiosity, then back home to a good read and a chilled glass.  

As the doors of the building yielded to his hands the strings of melodic sounds danced into Alastor’s ears. This wasn’t his first time visiting the old building. He’d written reviews and talked about performances before. Back when he was taking any chance he could get to get coverage and be heard. Back when he was a scrap of a young man, practically still a boy, desperate to prove himself. Back before his coverage of the bayou butcher put him on the map. Despite the joyful sounds that filled the room, a strange sense of melancholy-even if ever so brief- washed over him. He didn’t dwell on it, certain that it was just the sense of nostalgia trying to revive his long dead enthusiasm.  

He entered the auditorium proper, the stage a beacon in the dark room. Two figures stood on it, a man and woman arguing in a recreation of a bedroom. He recognized the man on stage. Danny or Dale or something  like that. He’d been at the theater quite some time, he was a draft horse of a human. A gentle giant. The woman he did not know, meaning she was either new since he last visited or was the lady of the hour he was there to see. At the very least she was seasoned. Her motions were fluid, natural, as if she were relaxing at home and not in a costume on a stage.  

As the music’s tempo picked up, the woman began to sing. It was as if… Alastor’s soul left his body. His eyes were both unfocused and staring straight at her. Her voice reverberated out, spinning into gold muslin mid air, and cushioning his head. After the initial shock he was able to focus more on what was going on in front of him. The scene was humorous, singing about her missing shoe while she manically stalked the room on stage. And damnit if she didn’t know what she was doing. Her facial and body expressions perfect, her timing immaculate, the jokes hit and they hit well. Then without a note out of place her costar lifted her up, throwing her over his shoulders, there backs against each other. She was now singing upside down, being carried across the stage.  

“That was her idea ya know” The stark contrast of Mickey's sharp tenor almost made Alastor jolt. Surprising punctual, Mickey stood beside him observing the scene on stage with a wistful hum, a rusted toolbox cradled under one arm.  

“She’s something ain’t she? Came in here and started changing things left and right. Thought she was gonna make the director pull out the last of his hair. A right proper diva, but I gotta say…” Mickey turned his focus back to Alastor. 

“Everything she’s changed looks and sounds a whole lot better now”  

“I can see now why everyone’s been so worked up over her, she’s quite remarkable.” Alastor’s eyes never left her figure. He was far too mesmerized by the swishing of her skirt and the unwavering rhythm of her vibrato.  

“Tell me about it. Stage manager said they’re gonna finish this scene, give notes and be done. I’ll show you to her room backstage.” Mickey walked to an entrance on the back wall, the phrase ‘Theater staff only’ painted on it. While Alastor was loath to miss the rest of the performance, it would do him no good to stand there and stare. He had a job to do after all.  

Alastor followed behind his little handyman acquaintance, the man’s orange curls bobbing up and down with his stunted gait.   He’d probably told Alastor what caused the limp before, and no doubt with a little liquor in his system, he’d tell  him again. 

Perhaps he’d listen this time.  

It was then that Alastor, wanting to fill the lull in the conversation, made the utterly horrendous mistake of commenting on the architecture of the place.  

“Hell if you like what you see here I outta show you the ceiling by the costume room on our way. Oh and the marble piece by the managers office, and the..” Thus began the long, arduous detour as Mickey entered room after room, showing Alastor each piece of cabinetry and gilded doorknob he’d found interesting.  When he’d thought about taking a tour, this wasn’t what he’d meant. And with no knowledge of the buildings layout, and almost no other staff milling about from what he could see, there was almost no chance of Alastor ditching Mickey and finding the woman’s dressing room on his own. He was well and truly at this buffoons mercy.  

By the time Mickey had deemed him educated enough on the buildings design, they were a good 45 minutes late. Alastor’s good mood from earlier long gone, the memory of the woman’s voice replaced with his inner thoughts doing their best to keep him from strangling his companion. He would be lucky if she was even still here, probably leaving sometime ago, and if she was as much a diva as Mickey had described earlier, he could kiss the idea of rescheduling with her goodbye. The smile on his face had never felt tighter or more forced.  

Mickey gave a good 3 solid knocks on the door, it rattled, the ancient looking wood contrasting again the shiny new hinges. Shuffling could be heard on the other side, the new hinges remaining silent as the door opened.  

“Mickey, I was starting to think you had forgotten” The woman from before stood before them, her costume now replaced with some light looking summer affair. The hair from the performance apparently part of the costume, as y/h/c strands stuck with sweat against her brow. Her accent was thick, almost annoyingly so. Not incomprehensible but certainly not accustomed to the foreign sounds and syllables on her tongue. Which Alastor found odd, as he’d not detected a whiff of it in her song earlier.  

She stepped aside, gesturing the men into her space. It was humbly furnished with a daybed, an arm chair with a side table and large mirrored vanity. A long pole stretching from one wall to the other, housing a hand-full of dresses, marked with pieces of paper and scene names. Her hands,  slightly sullied with ink stains, were clasped in front of her as she waited on the men to enter and adjust.  

“Sorry to keep you waiting ma’am it was all my fault truly” Mickey fessed up, arms in front of with an apologetic look in his eyes. 

 She pulled out the chair at the vanity as she began to speak, a small selection of raw vegetables sat on wax paper in front of her. 

‘How odd’ Alastor thought. 

“Oh it’s alright sir, I take notes well here just as I do at the apartment” The sentence made Alastor worry. The accent he had anticipated, but the broken English would be a problem. He could deduce from the state of her hands and the manuscript sitting next to the armchair that she was talking about taking down notes, but one could not count on visual context clues in a strictly audio-graphic medium.  

“Oh where are my manners” Mickey seemed to remember he was there for a reason. “Miss. Y/n Leroux, Mr. Alastor Altruist, the finest radio personality and friend a man could ask for.” Mickey stepped aside, his hands in dramatic fashion as he bowed, gesturing Alastor forward.  

“Ma’am I hope you can forgive our tardiness” Alastor took the woman’s hand, pressing a chaste kiss to the knuckles before taking a step back. If there was ever a time to turn on the southern charm it was now.  

“Oh no no, it’s good. It’s water with a bridge and all that” She put her hands up in a dismissive manner. While Alastor thought the flubbing of the idiom was cute, the more he dwelled on it the more it gave him pause. Why was a woman who didn’t know English using a metaphorical  turn of phrase? That seems rather, advanced, didn’t it? His intrigued piqued, Alastor sat in the arm chair, helping himself to the pen on the side table while pulling out a steno pad from his breast pocket.  

“If you don’t mind ma’am, I’d like to share some of my questions with you now. Just to give you some time to polish your answers before we go live.”  

“Oh yes, okay” Y/n sat back, her legs crossed at the ankle with her hands once more clasped in front of her on her lap.  

As Alastor began to focus, the rhythmic squeaking of the floorboards got his attention. He turned toward the sound, Mickey standing there, rocking back and forth with his hands in his pockets. Feeling Alastor’s gaze, he looked at the pair.  

“Oh should I?” Mickey made a pointing gesture at the daybed before walking over and sitting on it, without actually receiving an answer. Before Alastor could even begin to focus this time, the whistling began. Try as he might he couldn’t school his features enough to hide the irritation in his brow.  

“Parfois je me demande si t’as été bercé trip près du mur…” Y/n muttered under her breath. “Mickey could you help me?” Mickey sat at attention. “My hat I think is backstage, or eh in the seats?” 

“Oh I‘ll go fetch it for you,  won’t take me but a minute. Don’t start without me Al!” Mickey practically sprinted out the door. 

As he heard the latch secure in the frame, Alastor let out a small breath, the stress in shoulders dissipating significantly . Y/n just hummed fondly, before reaching behind her seat. She turned slightly, a small grin plastered on her face as she raised her hand, holding the ‘misplaced’ hat up for Alastor to see.  

Alastor let out a small laugh “Many thanks” he said, this smile feeling much more genuine. Y/n simply nodded her head, gesturing with her hand for him to start once more.  

They were about 15 minutes into it and Alastor was almost done explaining how things would go, and feeding her some of his questions. As she spoke he took down her answers, not for the sake of remembrance but to try and parse out how much English she really knew. As he was reviewing small crunches could be heard across from him. Y/n was munching on the vegetables he had noticed earlier.  

“Why are you eating like that?” Alastor asked off the cuff.  

“Pardon?” She simply sat there, genuine confusion on her face.  

“Why are you eating like you’re a rabbit and not a human? What is your French palette to delicate for our American cuisine.” The comment was out of the blue and a bit forced, but Alastor wanted to insult her. He wanted to see how she reacted when given a surprise.  

“Do you insult all your eh guests?” She said, sass dripping out into her voice, looking very much like she wanted to role her eyes.  

There it was, his lynchpin.  

“I’m the interviewer here, not the interviewee.” Alastor’s confidence had well and truly been restored. This time she did role her eyes at his comment. He just gave out a laugh.  “Tell you what, how about a little tit for tat. I’ll answer a question, if you do.”  

“I was already answering them.” She just fixed him with a look. 

“Off the book questions, no interview, just personal questions for me.” She seemed to ponder a moment, before giving in.  

“Fine”  

“Ladies first” Alastor gestured to her.  

“Do you insult all your guests?” She asked, the evidence once more affirmed in Alastor’s mind.  

“Actually my dear, I don’t really do interviews. I’m more of a solo artist. This one was more me being opportunistic, let’s say. Since you are my only interviewee then I guess the answer is yes, though I didn’t mean any insult.” Y/n just gave a huff at his comment.  

“So why do you eat like a woodland critter?” Alastor prodded once more.  

“I’ve been here since the morning. It’s hot here and meat spoils. So” She gestured to the remnants of what was apparently her lunch. “Your turn” Alastor simply said, no further comment on his lips.  

“If this is for me, why are you taking notes?” This intrigued him further, so she was not as oblivious as she seemed.  

“These are more just for the sake of record keeping. Just makes the process easier” The lie was easy, and flowed smoothly of his tongue. The most impressive part being she couldn’t really call him out on it.  The back and forth had settled her, she seemed eased and comfortable with the questioning.  

Time to knock her down. 

“So for mine what I want to know is why you’re pretending you don’t know English? “ 

“Excus-“ 

“Save it” He held his hand out in front of him to stop her. “You couldn’t have known this but I do know some French, and from what I know the word ‘do’ doesn’t exist in it. So if you were as linguistically challenged as you say you are, then that little ‘Do you insult all your guests’ would have sounded a lot more awkward than it was, or at the very least a whole lot slower.” Alastor just sat there and basked in her face. The mix of offense and frustration that he found just so adorably entertaining.  

“Though” he began pondering aloud “I suppose I didn’t need that tidbit of evidence, Mickey said he spoke to you, and heh even I can’t understand Mickey most days.” The grin on his face was wide and sharp, the tension in the room stifled the air around them. He half expected her to walk out, seeing as she gave no response to him.  

Y/n closed her eyes and took a breath, steadying herself before opening them once more, her gaze no longer shocked but determined.  

“If you must know” the change in her voice was striking. Gone almost entirely was the accent, and the small cautiousness that hung over her before was no where to be seen. “It’s because I’m a novelty. While I’m more than confident in my capabilities as a singer, Mr. Altruist, I’m much more valuable to Americans as an exotic European foreigner, than as a competent singer.”  

“So you’re being a ham for the sake of what exactly?” His brow quirked up in curiosity. 

“That’s two questions in a row, it’s my turn.” Y/n stated matter of factly. “What it’d like to know is why you’ve been needing to get blood out of your clothes recently?”  

Alastor swallowed hard, surely she was joking? Perhaps she was testing him? 

“It was hard to tell when you first entered, considering Mickey so odorously reeks of grease and metal. However what this rooms gains in amenities it lacks in air flow. As we’ve sat here I’ve noticed how strongly the scent of citrus and salt is on you. While any decent lady knows this is an easy remedy for most stains, it’s the underlying twinge of iron that gives away just what stain was being removed.” Y/n just sat there, her arms at her sides, eyes alight and mouth eased into a grin.  

“Though” she said “I suppose I didn’t need that tidbit of evidence as when you sat down I noticed that odd purple stain on your collar.” She paused pointing on her neck to where the blotch was on him. “My guess is you missed the spot while blueing your shirt since it sits right in the fold of the collar .” Y/n sat back, pleased with her analysis of the arrogant bastard in front of her.  

Alastor looked down, his face blank as he tried desperately to hold himself together. He couldn’t kill her, Mickey was still in the building looking for her blasted hat. Plus she was much too high profile and he had bragged at the office about the interview. So no alibi, a witness and a persistently observant woman in front of him. What to do?  

Alastor laughed slowly before looking up once more. “Why do you know so much about removing blood stains Miss. Leroux?” He smiled once more, it was a flimsy trap, but he couldn’t let her know that. He didn’t need to cover though as she didn’t fall for it,.  

“I think I asked you first.” Was all she said. The smug look on her face as she crossed her arms was too much for Alastor, he made to lift himself up and out of this hellhole of a dressing room.  

“So Friday at 4 then? Or 3 to be early?” She simply stated nonchalantly, making no move to get up or stop him.  

“Heh, do some preliminary stalking of me did you?” Alastor was trying and failing to get the upper hand again as he grabbed his things to leave.  

“Don’t flatter yourself. Mickey told me when your show was.” Alastor turned to see her once more before he left. The look in her face had not lessened any. She smugly raised her hand, waving at him with 3 fingers.  

“Toodles” 

[hiddendepths-aublog]

🥪 for the New Lords, cause I get a feeling that the old lords don't like to eat anymore (except the blue bug I'm forgetting the name of who likes tea) and I don't think Webby can eat.

Hold on a minute, first I gotta draw Stinger butchering you with a chainsaw for forgetting her name…

Just kidding, just kidding!

🥪 Favourite (human) food?

Wiggly - Generally any kind of seafood, but specifically shrimp. He actually does prefer when it’s, like… actually prepared and not just a full-ass, raw fucking fish. The incident at the end of Chapter 7 was mainly just him satisfying his primal instinct to hunt something that would at least try to run. He’s like a dog in that sense.

Blinky - I don’t know why, but something tells me she’d like those shitty, greasy snack foods you get at, like, carnivals and such. Y’know, caramel apples, corn dogs, churros, mac and cheese in a waffle cone (wh… does something like that actually exist, or is Google fucking with me?), etc. Oh, and tobacco smoke, but I don’t think that counts.

Tinky - That man would bite into pickle slices like they’re fuckin’ Pringles. But only because he’s a goat, of course pickles taste good to him.

Nibbly - I don’t think she’d be able to choose herself, but if you ask me? I’m leaning towards chocolate.

Pokey - Now that’s a tough one, because I don’t really see him being eager to eat anything, but off the top of my head… how about a nice caramel frappe? Nothing better!

[jessource]

THE GOOD WITCH BY MAISIE PETERS LYRICS

still argue like my mother and suppress stuff like my dad.

i don't think i wanna get better.

the way i loved you, i will not be embarrassed of that.

you broke me big time.

you give up like a ghost leaving halfway through the band.

i let you butcher my big heart.

you broke my heart and my self-esteem.

came a boy and left a man.

this is armageddon.

i knew loving you was letting you leave.

i am exhausting and you're not in love.

i'm the best thing that almost happened to you.

i stay up, you're sleeping like a lamb.

you're gonna walk into some underground bar.

goodbye from your biggest fan.

i wish i would've seen it sooner.

you got two types: countryn and western.

this is my coming of age.

lost my page when you kissed me.

the love we had was covered in snow.

told her you were just a friend.

was i just an idea you liked?

yeah, i'm sure there was heartbreak.

i saw you and your girlfriend.

i'm dating but dating just for sport.

i am unhinged.

it was endless roads in the same old boots.

loving you was easy, that's why it hurts.

i'm delaing with the heart you broke.

you built me like a promise 'til it broke me like a curse.

we could live off magic and maybe's.

you couldn't have loved a girl any harder than you loved me.

i'll leave you behind, but that don't mean it's easy.

it wasn't real, but it was for me and you know that.

one day, you're gonna wake up.

oh, is she just like me?

i'm throwing you a bone.

still don't play the black keys.

how's it feel to have made me cry?

got the news just last month.

i've pleaded.

i'm not holding my breath.

i wish it was two weeks ago.

you swore that you'd be there for me.

mr i don't want a label.

you're kinda awful, but you're not awful on purpose.

you look better, what the fuck?

i tried to rewrite it, but i can't.

if a man says that he wants you in his life forever, run!

well, fucking sue me, 'cause at least then we could talk.

you took what you took and you left what you left.

i'm kinda busy but like, stay in touch?

i sleep through the night.

if i'm tricky, why'd you kiss me?

has she got a better body than mine?

i know the girl that you want and it scares me.

oh, mr bruce wayne, where is that cape now?

you're laughing like a kid.

i thought i gave you the best of me.

how come you're taking me from your arms?

oh lord, i'm going back to therapy.

if you don't love me, why you'd act it.

what was cheap to you to me was all i had.

maybe you're lost and you just can't see what you have.

i will try forgiveness, but i will not forget.

you couldn't keep what you couldn't tame.

i was good to you.

i still love you.

you still get to me, but i still let you.

you were it for me.

if i'm not careful, i'll wake up and we'll be married.

do you love her?

you're pretty like a girl, till you're vicious like a man.

i beg you, and you don't understand.

i am not allowed to want you any longer.

now we're living the dream and i hope we never wake up.

will you tell me just one more lie?

it's sad and it's true.

we don't speak 'cause it's too tricky.

you touched me, now your touch will last for centuries.

i wish when we went to the beach that day we'd taken more pictures.

bye bye from your girl.

i'm doing better.

i've been lied to.

i can write you out the way i wrote you in.

you said we're like your mom and dad.

i'm the greatest love that you wasted.

you got every single thing you want and i just watch.

i gotta get my act together.

you burnt down easter island as if it wasn't sacred.

i still want you back.

taste my venom.

pretend that it's what you wanted.

i know how your tone works.

you pushed me out quicker than it took me to put my jeans on.

don't you know that you're losing this?

i thought it would be us for life.

but now you're gone, honey, i can't sleep.

you made me little miss unstable.

this song's for you, and it's all we have.

i gave you all of myself.

oh my, what happened here?

yu gave me the world and you gave me your word.

you'll throw your rocks and you'll scream that you hate me.

still flinch at the sound of a door.

i'm on a one way trip to take over the world.

a haunted house nobody lives in.

wow, hey, it's been forever. do you wanna get a drink, like together?

i save you a seat and you say you wanna stand.

of course, you couldn't read me.

i can finally breathe.

what about (name)?

you're just a boy, and i'm kinda the man.

you wanna hear about it?

i can't help thinking that she's got a better body.

everybody pretends that they're great but what if you actually might be?

yeah, i know you did bad, but if one more person says it i might go mad.

the worst way to love somebody is to watch them love somebody else and it work out.

you think i'm alright but i'm actually bloody motherfucking batshit crazy.

take the hand and go with him.

run.

i'm just talking to your memory.

you'll see a pretty little thing catching eyes in the dark and it's me.

i'm not gonna wait, now i know better than that.

she stays up, he's sleeping like a lamb.

i had to let it go.

[xruiningth3sh0wx]

Another one dead

By the road,

Ruthlessly tread upon

And robbed of its soul.

 

A grizzly sight,

One which catches the eye,

Rubber marks etched into the skin,

It’s enough to make you want to cry.

 

Trampled under by rolling feet,

The usurpation of our mother’s complete.

 

Torn apart by rubber teeth,

Silently reminded it didn’t deserve to breathe.

 

Another one dead,

Another one gone,

Gasoline spews into the air

And motors sing their siren songs.

 

That foul black serpent

Wants to strangle life,

Venom spewing forth from its fangs

As they pierce the Mother like a pair of knives.

 

Her children are murdered

By Her biggest mistake,

Rain falling hard everyday as She

Weeps from the constant rape.

 

Butchered upon the

Cold concrete,

By steel machines,

Innocent creatures are torn and beat.

 

It was their home first,

Despite our claims.

 

Man has an unquenchable thirst,

A desire to kill, torture, and maim.

 

Another one dead,

Left to rot,

And all pass by,

The corpse they forgot.

 

Why should they care?

 

A natural consequence

Of their dominance.

 

The little vermin shouldn’t have been there.

 

And we’re told that there are innocents,

There are those who don’t deserve to die.

 

Find me a pure soul,

And I’ll show you a pure lie.

 

A giant gang of serial rapists

Is on the loose.

 

Murderous offspring drag their weakened

Mother right to the noose.

 

Another one dead,

Killed for the cause,

An ugly strip laid

And another home lost.

 

To make way

For the doomsday machines,

Asphalt poured deep in the ground

While species galore are wiped clean.

 

More and more are laid to rest.

 

Despite what the tyrants say,

They were our brightest and best.

 

Bipedal monsters pilot

Their fuming horses.

 

Blackened is the air,

Heading towards suicide.

 

Kill the inhabitants with glee,

Spill their blood with heinous pride.

 

It’s all so goddamned sordid.

 

Another one dead,

Buried inside a concrete tomb.

 

The sky cracks and shakes

As filthy hands dig into our Mother’s breast and womb.

 

Gotta make way for the coming end,

That’s why they’re speeding into oblivion,

And they all invite their family and friends,

Ushering in a decadent age, just like that old Gideon.

 

Metal phalluses erected,

Plunging deep,

Forcefully injected,

And some wonder why our Mother

Just wants to enter eternal sleep

As the dross that is homo hubris continues to smother.

 

Hell is here,

It’s where we went.

 

Built on Earth,

That’s where we were sent.

 

Every man is damned,

And I’d say they all deserve to be.

 

I look forward to the end of Man,

I cannot wait to see him bleed.

 

Someday a rain will come,

And wipe away the scum that breeds.

 

Scum breeds scum, all roads lead

Right into the heart of decay.

 

She’ll be right when upon us She feeds,

For suicide is the gospel of humanity, and the logic of to-day.

 

For now, all I can do is watch

As more and more are driven over.

 

Extinction draws near for the precious ones,

Upon the critters, it creeps closer and closer.

 

What did they do to deserve this fate?

 

It’s man that’s wrong; the furry things don’t deserve our hate.

 

Hate with all your heart, the spawn of Man.

 

Remove him from this place, to help heal the broken land.

 

Disable his chariots of doom,

That should bring about his end soon.

 

I see the scum walking about,

And I’m told they have worth,

But my hateful heart just fills with doubt.

 

Another one dead,

Another one dead.

 

Four screaming wheels

Crushed its head.

 

Another one dead,

Another one gone.

 

Man thinks he’s invincible,

But his end’s around the corner; it won’t be long.

 

And I pray to God, I pray to Her,

Get rid of this bipedal disease,

Send us all to Hell, where we belong,

Make sure our lives, you fucking cease.

 

I cannot stand the sights I see

In this here modern world that torments me,

And torments creatures both big and small,

None of us deserve a place in that sacred Nordic hall.

 

It’s time to start over,

Just get rid of us.

 

Make war upon this race called Man,

For I think it’d be rather just.

[plasticfangtastic]

Okay so i gotta talk about Gen V ep 5 or am gonna explode!

And gotta talk about The Boys S4 spoilers for 2 reasons... 1) something mentioned by Dr Cardosa in the episode and 2) the VoughtHQ twitter leaker... mainly cuz am getting this after trying to check on a leak from season 4... their twitter also wont load for me... like can we just let Becca Saunders rest? Can her poor life stop being milked for manpain??

Spoilers under cut obvi.

First-- off congrats Marie and Jordan I hope you 2 get married and be the power couple this universe needs.

Second here its out Butcher cameo lol. I think this is from S1 after killing madelyn but seeing him in a beanie its so weird altho there is a Homelander article in the same page so who knows.

Third-- Cate you poor bitch!! I felt so betrayed but i dont doubt she its being brainwashed/groomed by Dean Shety so maybe she can be redeemed and her powers are too strong.... i dont doubt that there its a chance she its involved in who appears in ep 6 if thats not a halucination.

Fourth-- Dr. Cardosa mentioning a virus to deal with them... so i guess thats how we r gonna deal with the supe population and why i think the vought hq leak might be real as it mentions the virus as well... i think its super interesting that Vought its developing a virus to kill supes, i guess stan edgar did had a way to make V24 viable despite having supes and maybe a way to get rid of Homelander... by giving him the common cold i guess.

Fifth-- am glad that Maverick is another bisexual king but its the bestiality jokes necessary?? altho I assume his alpaca gf Sloane its just a shapeshifter. So far we got Marie, Jordan, Emma, Cate and Andre as our bisexual monarchs and thats basically the whole cast sans Sam... absolutely iconic Kripke, best apology after fucking up Dean Winchester but i wont forgive you for what u did... still thank you.

Sixth-- the pv for the next ep has fucking Soldier Boy!!! Deep down i feel he its most likely a halucination... saw some ppl theorizing that Cate its mindstorm daughter and she witnessed Mindstorm getting killed by SB so she will use her powers to send them to a mind prison to fight SB which is absurd but i doubt SB its there unless Cate's powers were use to brainwash soldier boy and use him as a weapon in the future, as his powers r too good plus is Vought wants to kill all supes then it makes sense for them to team up with the american govt and have SB as back up while they work with the Superona.

Seventh-- i only now noticed there its a wall poster for homie and loneliness on those school mental health ads which is sad and funny.

Eight-- overall great episode loved how much its happening and its only been days inside the canon, and fuck Rufus! How its the next 3 eps gonna kill me!! Like its too freaking much!!

And finally this shit...

I would not be surprised if this virus is the one being developed in The Woods by Vought, second if this is real then Butcher its a complete pos and a hypocrite i expect the following scenarios of: a) during the time Becca was raped or the wk she went missing thats when Butcher cheated on Becca so its not hatred that motivated his revenge against Homelander but guilt for cheating on his wife... probably with his married fbi plug if i had to take a guess. Or B) Becca learned of his affair decided to have her own affair with Homelander tried to end it which resulted in her S.A. which its why Homelander doesnt see what he did as rape bcuz i guess its not assault if its ur GF/Wife in his mind.

And i guess he takes V or the V24 never left his body unless some Supe can give powers which cause Butcher to use them am so confused is he like a power conduit???

I am gonna say Frenchie or MM will die in this story unless by main characthers they mean any of the Seven, Vought execs or Neuman... doubt Hughie, Starlight, Kimiko or Homelander are gonna die in S4.... but maybe Ashley who knows.

And finally giving cookies to Ryan did like HL saw the tumor felt sad for Butcher and decided to let him see Ryan? or did Ryan just sneaked out and met Billy??

[hehehoohoohole]

OKAY SO. First question: Are there other diseases that can spread despite being cooked?

The answer is no, not really. Prions are just really fucked up. But! If meat isn't cooked to the proper temperature and held there for a while, you can end up with meat that looks cooked, but still is dangerous. This is especially true with ground meats, which is why you should never order a rare ground meat burger.

The reason ground meat is a problem and not steak is because the bacteria and viruses that cause illness tend to vibe on the outside of the meat, so with steak, as long as the outside is properly cooked, you're pretty safe. With ground meats, every surface is mashed together and thus the whole product has the potential for bacteria and viruses.

As for being a carrier of disease- generally, in a slaughterhouse setting, the animal is examined before slaughter, and then after slaughter, indivual spots are examined for signs of disease to ensure bad product doesn't make it to the market. I know that at least the esophagus and the lymph nodes are checked off the top of my head (my dad has been involved in the opening of the second ever ostrich slaughterhouse and had a GREAT time trying to figure out the esophagus stuff).

Thankfully, I found these fun and cool PDFs about the pre and post mortem inspection processes! So here those are if you wanna take a peek- https://www.fsis.usda.gov/sites/default/files/media_file/2021-11/17a_HQ_LSIT_Antemortem_07-02-2019.pdf https://www.fsis.usda.gov/sites/default/files/media_file/2020-08/PHVt-Post_Mortem_Inspection.pdf

Doing these inspections on a Human Person would likely be sufficient for determining if they were a carrier for a disease or not. But we also have the added bonus of humans being a lot easier to tell if they're sick by virtue of. We know what sick humans look like because we are also human/human adjacent in this setting. Also because you can just ask.

Now- here's the fun part!! In a kitchen setting, meat is not your only concern! Veggies used in salads and for garnish are also a hot bed for food borne illness, since they aren't cooked and washing often isn't enough to get E. Coli off your lettuce. That's why it's important yo be aware of food recalls and ALSO have separation of raw meat, cooked meat, and veggies. You GOTTA have separate areas for preparation of each (I've heard that a lot of kitchens use color coordinated cutting boards!).

I....don't know how to apply food safety to fucking someone in a kitchen where you then do slaughter and cooking. Or actively having sex with someone during the slaughter process. Uh. I think it would break the rules. But I....don't know. Which rules. This is not something that comes up in normal food safety, I'm sure you understand. I think as long as Morell washes his hands afterwards it's- it's kinda okay?? ITS HARD TO APPLY REAL WORLD LOGIC TO THIS.

In conclusion: it would probably be fine for kiddo to eat human as long as Morell follows USDA guidelines at least a little.

As thanks for reading this ramble, please take this baby ostrich photo!

You have a lot of info, and it's nice to have someone with a clear idea about this stuff...as much as it can be applied to fucked up porn scenarios.

I'm glad that the kiddo and Piglet will probably be fine if they eat some, at least physically. I had told pin about Prion disease in an RP we did a long while back, as that was how my troll, Liva, was convincing Morell to stop feeding Piglet other humans. This updated information is nice to know so I don't further spread misinformation, even if in reality it's probably fine to use whatever to spook people off actually eating each other.

As for Morells cleanliness, uh, he is not at least in regards to butchering and sex, he's a gross man and doesn't wash his hands for cooking after I'm pretty certain. Piglet will have to hose him for her safety, hands, mouth, dick, everything if she can manage to get him to listen to her. The good news is I think he stops fucking people after meeting her so there's at least one less thing to worry about carrying disease.

In a world with magic and Krulu hovering around making sure his employees play things don't die so they don't have man baby tantrums none of this really matters though. Even without Krulu directly getting involved though, there's Patches and or Liva's magic, which probably can't fix everything ever but can probably fix enough. Patches probably won't help out of the goodness of his heart, he'll need to be nagged by Morell but Liva will, and verbally rip into the chef the whole time for being so bad at taking care of his "wife".

Aahh hello little babies! I would give them little head kisses if they weren't still in the inside phase, they're still vulnerable when they're that little I believe. Thank you for the picture and the interaction, I find it very sweet that you wanted to info dump for me, I'm around if you'd like to again.

[jvstheworld]

The Buffy Re-watch: S1E12 (part 1)

Prophecy Girl

The last episode of season 1. I ended up writing 9 pages (A5 Pages, I don't like writing on A4, A5 is just easier to hold and rest on my lap as I write), so this might be another 3 parter. Here goes:

First thing I noticed was that the sign for the Bronze changed after the last episode still had the fumigation sign on it.

Xander practicing asking Buffy out and using Willow is his practice person. Oh boy.

Buffy is off fighting, and she lands on her back/butt, then she pulls out a stake from the back of her waistband. How did she not get stabbed by it when she fell?

Giles really does put in some serious overtime as a Watcher. The man needs more of a life. But I get the importance of why he's putting in the extra the time.

Earthquake. According to The Master, a possible 5.1. Can someone explain to me how earthquakes are measured? We don't get them here in the UK, except for that one time in 2008? where we had a small one. I slept through it though.

Giles looks like shit, after finding out some very troubling news. As we saw in Episode 10, Giles' biggest fear is losing Buffy so her will try to do anything he can to prevent that from happening. He definitely has a father's love for her by this point.

Okay, here we go, Xander is asking out Buffy. He was direct and to the point, that's good, get's the message across.

THEN HERE IS WHERE HE RUINS!!! Buffy turns him down because she sees him as just a friend only. Her friendship is more important, more valuable than the possibility of starting an ill-fated with him that could ruin their friendship. He likes her ad asking her out was brave, don't have a problem with that. The problem is how he reacts to it. Buffy doesn't feel that same so it wouldn't make sense for her to say yes, that would be leading him on and would be wrong. She also has feelings for Angel and would cause problems there. Turning Xander down was the right thing to do in this situation. However, Xander's snipe 'I guess a guy's gotta be dead undead to make time with you?' was fucking uncalled for and cruel. You can't help who you fall for, but you do not get to punish someone because it's not you. When faced with rejection you accept what the person has said and move on. You don't ever act like an entitled asshole because they said no. And while Xander may have apologised for his little comment after Buffy rightfully calls him out for it, he doesn't mean it. He hates Angel and takes any opportunity to disparage him in front of whoever will listen. He says sorry to placate Buffy, but he doesn't actually regret saying it because he believes what he said. Rejection fucking sucks. Whether it's by friends, partners, jobs or university, it hurts. But it happens. It's a part of life and you need to get used to it, because if you always take it so hard and personally it will eat away at you and leave you bitter and angry at the world. If left like this your mental will be in tatters. Learn to accept rejection and move on. In Xander's case, he can either accept that Buffy's friendship is enough for him, or he can walk away if he can't accept it. To quote Billy Butcher from 'The Boys' (I love this show) 'Don't be a cunt.'

I'm going to leave it there for this part. I will have more to say about Xander in the next part, but it will mostly centre on Buffy. Part 2 tomorrow.

[themadlostgirl]

B&B: Cooking Lessons

*I FORGOT I HAD THIS PROMPT IN MY ASKS! I AM SO SORRY! Better late than never at least.*

Prompt: More funny Felix x Reader Storybrooke AU shenanigans. Title says it all.

~~~

“Darling,” Felix reached past you to turn off the tv, “It’s three.”

“No!” you flopped over on the couch. “I don’t wanna go!”

“It’s not that bad. Stop complaining and let’s get this over with.” he tried to pull you off the couch. You held onto the armrest, refusing to budge. “Stop being a brat! Come on!”

“Never!”

“For the love of god. Fine. You force my hand.” he let go of your leg and started tickling your sides.

“No fair!” you shrieked with laughter. You tried to swat his hands away but he took the opportunity to grab you and pull you off the couch. “That was low, Felix.”

“And you’re being dramatic.” he pulled you along out of the apartment. You knocked on the apartment door of Snow and David.

Snow greeted you with a bright smile. “Come in you two. Ready for your cooking lesson?”

“Snow, I am going to be straight with you. I think you need to give up on trying to teach us to cook.” you told her. “I am perfectly content living off of Granny’s lasagna and toaster waffles.”

“Ignore her.” Felix pulled you inside. “She’s been in a mood all day.”

“You’re fine learning how to cook. Why do I have to learn too?” you whined as you were tossed an apron.

“Cause I am not going to be the sole person cooking the meals around the house. This is easier than back on Neverland, I don’t know what you’re complaining about. It’s not like we have to skin anything or butcher it. It all comes pre-packaged.”

“I liked cooking on Neverland better because it was just stick the meet in fire till it is brown. That’s all it had to be. Now we have to saute shit. What the hell is saute!”

“Well, you’ll be pleased to know that we are not going to be sauteing anything today.” Snow assured you. “And cooking is an essential life skill. Even if it is something simple you need to be able to prepare food for yourself.”

“Fine. What are we making?” you gave in and accepted your doom.

“Well, considering that we had a problem last week when we tried to make risotto I thought we would bring it down to something hopefully a little easier. We are going to make muffins.”

“That sounds easy, right?” Felix eyed you. You rolled your eyes. You weren’t holding out hope.

“I found a simple recipe. I already got out all the supplies, you guys just need to follow the directions.” she gestured to the various ingredients scattered around the kitchen. “Now, you guys have come a long way since we started so I am going to let you take the reins. If you have any questions feel free to ask but I am going to stay out of your way.”

“Joy.” you turned to the recipe. It didn’t look complicated but you were a disaster in the kitchen. Why couldn’t they just accept that?

“Preheat oven to 400 degrees.” Felix went to the oven and turned it on. “Okay. Next we need to line a muffin tin with liners.”

“Line a what with what?”

“I’m guessing they mean this.” Felix picked up a tray with various divots in it. Next to them were a package of little paper liners.

You lined the tray with the liners while Felix measured out the ingredients. “Next we need to mix the milk, vegetable oil, and egg in one bowl and the flour, sugar, baking powder and salt in a bigger bowl.”

“Okay.” you took the ingredients he handed you and dumped them in their respective bowls. This wasn’t too bad so far.

“Now we mix in the wet ingredients with the dry ones. Once those are blended we add the chocolate chips.” Felix instructed. Felix poured the ingredients together and began mixing. You handed him the chocolate chips to add and started picking at the leftovers in the bag.

“What next?” you asked.

“How about you read it.” he handed you the card.

“We gotta spoon the batter into the cups to two thirds full. Then it says we need to mix together some white sugar and brown sugar to sprinkle on top.”

“Alright. I’ll start spooning. You mix the sugar.”

“Okay.” You went to grab the sugar.

Snow’s phone started ringing. “I gotta take this. You guys are doing great though. I’ll be in the other room for a minute.”

“Got it.” Felix said, carefully spooning batter into the cups.

You mixed together the topping and turned around to hand it to Felix. You slipped on a bit of milk that got spilt on the ground though. The bowl of sugar in your hands flew out and dumped all over Felix. “I am so sorry!”

He turned to you deadpanned, crystal sugar glittering in his hair. “Really?”

“I didn’t mean to.” you couldn’t help laughing though. He shook the sugar out of his hair like a dog shaking off water.

“Oh no, it’s fine.” he dipped a hand in the flour and tossed it at you. It hit you right in the face. “Now we’re even.”

“You jerk! Mine was an accident!” you wiped the flour from your face. Now your shirt was covered in it too.

“What are you gonna do about it?” he smirked.

You grabbed the wooden spoon off the table. “Oh I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do about it.”

“Stand back.” he grabbed the bag of flour. “There’s more where that came from.”

“Felix!” you warned. “Don’t you dare.”

“Don’t you!”

You were in a stand off up until the oven dinged to let you know it was preheated. The sudden sharp noise made you jump and you turned instinctively to see what caused it. In the split second you realized your mistake and felt a handful of flour hit the back of your head. You turned back and Felix was wearing a shit eating grin.

Oh that was it! You chucked the spoon at him and grabbed the sugar off the counter to throw back while he was distracted. You chased him around the table throwing handfuls of sugar at him as he tried to dodge and fired back with handfuls of flour.

You were making another lap around when Felix suddenly changed directions and came running straight at you. He caught you with one arm and dumped the rest of the flour directly on top of your head. “You little--” you had run out of sugar. You reached for the closest thing you could grab which in this case was the carton of eggs and smashed one on his head.

The cold slimy yolk running down his neck was enough to get him to drop you. You grabbed the entire carton and readied another egg. “Darling, out the eggs down.” he told you, hands up. “We had our revenge no need for more destruction.”

“Should have thought about that earlier.” you chucked another egg at him. He dodged out of the way and it sailed past him. “Get back here and take it like a man!”

You threw another and another trying to hit him as he dodged around the apartment.

“Alright guys I’m--” Snow stepped back into the room just as you threw another egg and hit her in the chest. “Ow! Hey!” She looked around at the mess the two of you had created. You had only seen Snow angry one other time and had forgotten just how scary she could be. This quiet rage settled on her as she wiped the egg from her formerly pristine baby blue sweater.

“What the hell happened to my kitchen?! What did you two do!” she gestured to floor and yourselves. “I was gone for five minutes! This place is a wreck!”

“Sorry.” You and Felix muttered. “Things got a little out of hand.”

“A little!” she made another grand gesture to the flour, sugar and eggs splattered and dumped everywhere. At that moment David returned with Emma and Henry. They took one look at the mess, the state of you and Felix, and the rage on Snow’s face and wordlessly backed out of the room.

Snow turned back to you two. “You are going to clean this place spotless and then go back into town and buy me back all the ingredients you wasted.”

“That’s fair.”

“You also don’t get to have any of the muffins.”

“What!”

“Neither of you deserve muffins after this! Now get cleaning!” she shoved the broom and paper towels into your hands. She finished filling the muffins and set them in the oven to bake while you and Felix cleaned.

By the time the muffins were out of the oven you had swept up all the flour and sugar as well as scrubbed the egg off the walls. The pair of you were still a mess but the apartment was clean again at least. Snow sent you off to wash up and get changed before heading out to the store.

You and Felix didn’t talk but each time you looked at each other you had to suppress a laugh. Still better than the risotto disaster.

You came back to the apartment with the replacement ingredients. Snow, David, Emma and Henry were relaxing in the living room munching on the muffins you had made. At least they had turned out okay.

You set the groceries down and apologized again for the mess. Snow forgave you and thanked you for the groceries. “For what it’s worth, the muffins came out perfectly.”

“Isn’t that swell.” you looked at them in envy. They looked so good too.

You and Felix returned to your apartment and saw a pair of muffins on your coffee table. Guess that was heroes for you. You slumped back on the couch with Felix, muffin in hand. “You know, despite the whole mess part, that wasn’t a terrible cooking lesson.”

“I thought the mess part was the most fun.” he ruffled your hair. You took a bite and sighed. They were really good.