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javierpena-inatacvest · 1 month ago

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Sail Away

Summary: Another nightmare leaves Javi wide awake, forced to wrestle with the consequences of his past as he looks towards his future

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: Heavyyyyy on the angst, PTSD, references to violence/death (from Narcos), panic attack and descriptions of past panic attacks, insomnia, feelings of guilt/shame, mentions of pregnancy/parenthood, comfort, still a happy (enough) ending, post DEA Javi, poor Javi just really needs a hug :(

A/N: We're tryin new things here people!! Fair warning- I feel like this is DRASTICALLY different from the way I normally write (content and style wise) but big sad time, pre-period hormones said it's time to cry 🤷🏼‍♀️ I think a lot about how post-DEA Javi handles thinking about his time in Colombia, and how hard it is for him to talk about, even with the people he knows care about him the most ☹️ I hope this doesn't beat you to death with metaphors, imagery and lack of beta'ing (I can still hear my AP lit teacher screaming SYMBOLISM into the abyss) Trying to emulate a lil @jolapeno on this one (ily my descriptive queen 👑)

It happened again.

You instantly knew from the stark cold of his side of the bed, the empty void where his broad frame should be, his sheets twisted and tangled from where he had fought another round with sleep and lost.

3rd night in a row, the 5th time this week. At this point, it was hard not to keep track.

The cyclical pattern of restless nights, haunted by ghosts of his past that taunted and teased him, cruelly lurking the back of his mind, no matter how hard he begged or pleaded for them to disappear.

Forcing himself to wrestle with his demons in the darkness couldn’t help but feel like insult to injury- the harsh blacks and blues that flooded the sky, drowning out the last glimmer of sunlight as it dipped below the horizon, perfectly mirroring the way his mind so devilishly seemed to paint his thoughts in shades of ebony and cerulean with erratic, angry brushstrokes over the warm yellows and oranges of his new life he had finally learned to embrace.

It only seemed fair that he went to battle with the darkest musings of his mind under the night sky that so cruelly reflected his mood.

You weren’t surprised the first time you found him hunched on the back steps of your porch, head buried in his hands, fingers twitching for a cigarette- the vice he’d sworn to give up after his final return home, a vow that moments like these had made him distinctly regret. You always wondered how despite the stark silence that surrounded him as he stared off into the dark abyss, you could still hear his thoughts screaming at you- crying out for attention, acknowledgement, anything to get someone else to understand what he was hiding inside of his mind that he was too scared to say out loud.

His midnight disappearances came in waves, fading and reappearing like an unpredictable ocean tide that left you wondering when the cool and salty water would crash around your ankles next as you stood at the edge of the shore.

For a while, the seas had been calm, Javi’s body nestled next to yours, his warmth comforting and covering you along with the messy piles of blankets and bedsheets that filled your mattress, the nights being nothing more than drifting to sleep in each other’s arms, haunted dreams harbored at bay.

For the last 5 nights, the tides had shifted. A storm was raging.

The first few nights you let him go- you’d watched him weather this kind of storm before, always insisting it was a journey he was supposed to go on alone, the type of trip you need to make without risking hurting the innocent passengers that were supposed to ride with you.

But as the days came and went, golden rays of vibrant sun shifting to dark and lonely blackness, it felt like you were leaving him out in the abyss without even so much as a life vest, praying for a return you knew would never come unless someone weathered the storm to save him.

“You’re up again.”

It’s a neutral statement, enough to disarm him from the implications you’ve sent yourself on a rescue mission to find him while you settle next to his stoic frame sinking into the porch step.

“And you shouldn’t be.”

Not quite resistance, but certainly not acceptance to you let you come aboard with him. Not yet.

“I was already up anyway. Someone has been a big fan of punching me in my gut at 2 A.M. Hard not to notice when I wake up and your side of the bed is empty for the 5th time this week.”

Both your eyes shift down to the subtle swell of your stomach, barley poking out from under the worn t-shirt you’d stolen from his dresser drawer. You’d never really had a knack for thievery until the past few weeks, claiming that everything was too tight for your growing belly. Despite all his years intertwined with the law, Javi had never had a problem with pardoning you for your violation, happy to let you, his household thief, and your new partner in crime indulge in the habit if it brought you any sort of comfort in your constant uncomfortability of growing a new life inside you.

“Already picking up on her dad’s shit sleeping habit.” He scoffs under his breath, a bitterness in his tone that he thinks he’s somehow managing to inflict years worth of poor choices on his future child, still months away from even making her arrival into the world.

It hurts, watching the pain well in his eyes as he stares off at the stars, glistening in the distance like some sort of unreachable sanctuary, the savior of a temporary distraction. Right now, you wish he’d look at you the same way, but he knows you won’t let him wallow in the all consuming waves of his own self pity like the stars will.

A silent journey to outer space is the easy way out. You aren’t.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask it like it’s a question, like he has a choice in the matter. He knows that you’ll be gentle with him- you have been since the moment you met him- but Christ, he also knows you’re nothing, if not persistent, too.

He sighs, accepting his defeat as his gaze drops from the sky down to the ground, cautiously allowing you to climb aboard with him.

It’s like trying to approach a wounded wild animal- move too fast and you’ll scare him away, leaving him to writhe in even more pain as he tries to flee from you. Move too slow and you leave him to bleed out, alone and afraid.

“I’m fine.” It’s almost humorous how blatant of a lie it is, immediately putting himself on the defensive, like he has any ground to stand on with his claim.

You say nothing, your silence enough to intrigue him as his eyes finally meet yours, the look on his face revealing the truth his words wouldn’t. You try your best to remain neutral, but Javi knows the sadness slowly slipping through your expression, the one you’re trying your best to hide because you’re not the one that’s hurting. Yet, there’s something about seeing you hurt because of him that’s enough to chip away at the wall he’s put up between you two, finally allowing you a crack just wide enough to let you see through to the other side.

“I- I keep having the same dream. Every night, it’s the same.” He says “dream” like he’s letting himself drift off to sleep to all the pleasantries the world has to offer him, waking up to his midnight thoughts refreshed and renewed. Because his dreams aren’t just dreams, his dreams are the most terrifying nightmares the majority people wouldn’t even be capable of imagining, a violent parade of the worst memories his brain can muster.

“What dream?” You ask, as carefully and cautiously as the way you shift yourself closer to him.

“I- It’s- I just- Fuck-”

It’s then you choose to gamble, wagering that he’s let you in enough, your next move won’t startle him, inching yourself closer as your right hand begins to intertwine with his left. He’s resistant at first, but as the familiar warmth of your body grazes across his skin, he begins to let you in, allowing your fingers to gently tangle, anchoring himself in your grasp.

“It’s okay, Javi. I’m here. You can tell me.”

It’s then the bets become less of a reckless gamble, squeezing him just a little tighter, stroking his skin with your thumb and feeling him squeeze back, taking your hand and finally letting you start to lift him out of the eye of the storm.

He still needs the reassurance you won’t leave, that the man his nightmares make him won’t scare you away like they have so many others. An insecurity that distresses him enough to make him ache, despite your compassion.

You’re not gonna scare me away, Javi.

The words still ring in the back of his head when he finds himself like this, remembering the first time you found him on the living room floor of your apartment at 3 A.M., skin tacky and covered in sweat, heart beating so fast he was convinced he was dying, terrified of his mind, and even more terrified you would leave him, letting you find him exposed, like some sort of disgusting, open wound.

He’ll never understand why you showed him so much mercy. In no lifetime will he ever be able to thank you enough that you did.

It still doesn’t make what comes next any easier.

“I just stood there. I just let him- I just let him do it. He was just a fucking kid.”

You can practically hear both your hearts break over the stark silence. Javi’s, because of all the things he’s done, this is the one he’ll never forgive himself for. Yours, for the same reason.

“Javi…”

“I didn’t even try to stop him. He was just a kid. We just- we just fucking left him there. What kind of person does that? I- I spent so long trying to convince myself, trying to- fuck- trying to justify it was okay. That casualties happen when you’re trying to catch a fuckin’ monster. But what if- what if none of it fucking mattered because I was the one who was really the monster.”

It was flowing out of him now, a flash flood crashing through the rest of the brick wall he had built up to defend himself. You can feel him trying to pull his hand away, trying to keep you from getting swept away in the current with him, but it only makes you double down harder.

“You’re not a monster, Javi. What happened back then, it- it did matter. I know it hurts, but it doesn't make you a monster.”

It’s not his admittance of guilt that breaks him- it’s your forgiveness.

He wonders how can stand him, let alone love him. How his past hasn’t left him tainted and useless, like some sort of lame animal with a limp that can’t be cured, its only options left to die or be sent out to pasture, too weak to venture back for help. That you were the only one who wanted to help fix the parts of himself that were the most broken and mangled. That you were the only one who gave him a chance to be healed instead of leaving him for dead.

When his eyes meet your stomach is when the guilt begins to morph into terror. Because years ago, a mother, just like you, was nestled away in the haphazard rows of colorful buildings that lined the streets of Medellín, carrying her unborn son, dreaming about the life she would plan for him.

Javi knows that nowhere in those plans did she account for the pain and heartbreak she would suffer as some asshole DEA agent watched her son’s body become one with the earth while he took a bullet to the brain.

How was he supposed to live with himself when he got a chance to play God- that now, after letting a life disappear, he was allowed to have a hand in creating a new one?

You watch the gears in his brain churn, yearning for an explanation to the unexplainable puzzle he’ll never be able to solve, even though he’s convinced he can. His brain works in logic and reasoning, only making the emotional torment of his past decisions more confusing for him. The same kind of logic that you’re not sure will ever allow him to forgive himself.

“How am I supposed to be a dad? How are you ever gonna trust me? How am I supposed to keep her safe when I’ve done so many terrible fucking things?” Tears begin to flow down his cheeks, each word more ragged and shaky than the last until he can’t fight it any more.

It feels like the entire weight of the world collapsing into your lap as he melts into you, so heavy that there’s nothing that you can do but wrap your arms around him at let him cry and soak the battered fabric of the his stolen t-shirt draped over your top, fisting at the frayed hems.

He can’t pretend anymore, not after he’s shown you all the cards he’s had to lay out on the table. There’s no more facade, no more attempt at a stubborn masquerade to hide his hurt. He’s finally let you climb aboard his ship and take the wheel, trusting that you’ll guide him home to shore where he belongs.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

The way he repeats it, chanting it like a broken prayer, begging for your forgiveness makes you ache. You’ve forgiven him for the sins of his past long ago, yet he still feels the need to plead to you for redemption. You wish there was a way to take it from him, to let him unburden himself from the shame he’s carried for so long and carry it for him, even if just for a little while. To let him see what you see in him, to know that you love him for all of his past, and not just in spite of it. To let him know that the storm he has to weather is a storm you will never let him weather alone. But for now, three words are the best you can do.

“I love you. I love you, Javi.”

And you do. You mean it. With every bone in your body, with every fiber of your being, you mean it. And right now, he may not admit it, but he knows you do, too. Those three words are enough to let him see the shoreline approaching in the distance, to see the light of day beginning to peek its way through the cracks of the night sky, to carry him back home to you.

He says it with his silence, the way his sobs start to slow, replaced with long inhales and exhales, his chest rising and falling against you. He says it with the way he holds you just a little tighter, hand splaying across the swell of your stomach, muttering a promise to himself just loud enough for you to hear.

“I promise I’ll protect you. Both of you. If it’s the last thing I do.”

“I know you will. I will, too. I promise.”

The promise is the last gentle wave that pushes you back to the part of the beach where tides roll gently, forgetting the raging currents they once were in the middle of the ocean. A place where you can safely row your boat ashore without the fear of another dreadful thought creeping up on you and dragging you back out to face torment again.

As you look out in front of you, the sky is no longer laden with heavy shades of black- a pastel sunrise is beginning to creep over the horizon, glistening like some sort of trophy for an underdog fistfight you’d managed to win, even if you’d come out the other side beaten and bruised. It was enough to nudge Javi’s head out of your lap, encouraging him to accept his prize at a game where winners came few and far between.

Tonight, you'd never been more thankful the universe had let Javi come up a winner.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve been up early enough to watch the sunrise.”

“Yeah. It is pretty, isn’t it? Sorry this is the reason you get to see it.”

“As long as I get to be with you, that reason will always be good enough.”

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solarmorrigan · 11 months ago

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Hands Where I Can See Them, Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2

Eddie doesn’t sleep until the small hours of the morning. Mostly, he spends the night going over and over things in his head, wondering at everything he’d somehow misread.

The way Steve had always stayed after they had sex. The way he’d curled close to Eddie, showering him with soft touches and affection well after he’d technically needed to. The way Steve had started cooking dinner; trying out new, fancy-sounding recipes and trying to make it special, even when it was just the two of them. The way Steve had brought Eddie fucking flowers once, and had met his skeptical look with a shrug, saying that he figured maybe no one had ever bothered to bring Eddie flowers, and “Everyone deserves to get them once in a while.”

(The way Eddie had encouraged Steve to stay, had eaten up every bit of affection and hungered for more, had nudged playfully at Steve’s feet under the table while they ate, had kept those flowers well past death and still has one pressed between the pages of a notebook.)

It had all been there, so plain that even his bandmates had seen it, but Eddie – Eddie hadn’t let himself consider for a moment that it was something he could have. And now, because he’d told himself he couldn’t have something like that, he doesn’t get to.

A self-fulfilling fucking prophesy.

He finally falls asleep, miserable and alone in his bed for the first time in weeks, and wakes to someone banging on the front door.

Full rays of sunlight are streaming through Eddie’s window, and a quick glance at the clock tells him that it’s a lot later in the morning than he’d anticipated Steve showing up to get his things. One of the few complaints Eddie has (had) about sleeping with Steve is his chronic and apparently incurable early-riserism, but it’s past eleven a.m.

It’s late enough, in fact, that Wayne has probably come home and is trying to sleep, so Eddie rolls out of bed to get to the door before the knocking wakes Wayne.

Shedding his own sleepy haze as he jogs for the door, it occurs to Eddie that Steve knows Wayne’s work schedule and that, no matter how pissed he is, he wouldn’t be petty enough to take it out on Wayne.

So then who–

Eddie pulls the door open, interrupting his visitor mid-knock, to reveal the scowling face of Robin Buckley.

–ah.

Well, Eddie can’t say he hadn’t been expecting her, but he’d sort of assumed she would come with Steve attached. He glances out towards the driveway and sees only his van, Wayne’s truck, and Robin’s bike.

“He’s not here,” Robin says, curt and sharp. “I just came to get some of his stuff.”

That, Eddie hadn’t been expecting. He knows he fucked up, he knows Steve is hurt, but so much so that he’s outright avoiding Eddie? Eddie doesn’t think there’s ever been a conflict that Steve hasn’t met head-on, and he hadn’t expected this to be an exception.

All the same, he steps aside to let Robin in, prepared to fetch whatever she needs. He’d spent part of the night wondering whether he should gather Steve’s stuff up to make it easier for him, or if that would make it look like he was eager to have Steve out of his life; he’d eventually decided to just leave everything where it is.

“He said his migraine meds are here. And his spare glasses,” Robin says, and shit, that would explain where Steve is.

“How bad is it?” Eddie asks.

“Bad.” Robin answers shortly.

Eddie nods, gesturing for Robin to follow him back towards the bathroom.

He doesn’t know much about migraines, but he’s been learning. He knows most of Steve’s triggers (prolonged loud noise, heat, no sleep, stress) and he knows how to keep things dark and calm when one hits. He’s sat with Steve through a particularly bad attack, lying in bed with him, holding him carefully, watching tears stream out from beneath closed eyelids (not an emotional response so much as a physical reaction to the overwhelming pain) and feeling like his own eyes might well up, too, for the frustration of how useless he’d felt.

He directs Robin to the medicine cabinet and leaves her there while he heads back to his bedroom for Steve’s glasses. When he comes back, he sees Robin shoving some of Steve’s hair products into her backpack and feels a pang of upset somewhere in his chest. The shampoo had been one of the first pieces of Steve that had found permanent residence at Eddie’s place, sliding in next to his own soap after Steve had spent several mornings in a row complaining about not having his usual shit to shower with.

At the time, it had only made sense for Steve to have some toiletries there, since he stayed over so often. In retrospect, Eddie can see how it could have seemed like permission – and invitation. Welcoming. (And hell – hadn’t it been?)

Eddie hands Robin the glasses, and she tucks them carefully into a side pocket.

“I can’t stay away very long,” Robin says, voice crackling with banked anger, “so if you’re going to try to give me a reason not to come back later and kill you, make it snappy.”

(Make it snappy. Eddie almost wants to laugh, sort of wants to cry; it sounds exactly like the lame kind of turn of phrase Robin would have picked up from Steve.)

For all Eddie prides himself on his ability to improvise, on his extemporaneous speeches and infamous rants, he comes up empty. He’d spent all night wondering how he could have missed it all, why he hadn’t paid more attention, and he doesn’t even have an answer for himself, much less for Robin.

All he can really tell her is, “I didn’t know.”

“Oh, bullshit, you didn’t know!” Robin snaps, and Eddie rushes to quiet her. “Don’t you shush–”

“You can be pissed, just do it quietly,” Eddie hisses. “My uncle is asleep.”

The barest fraction of ire slips from Robin’s expression, and she jerks her head back towards the living area, following behind when Eddie goes.

“We both know Steve,” she says once they’re standing by the half wall that separates the kitchen from the living room, voice lower now but no less intense. “When he loves, he does it loud. Everyone else could see it from miles away, and it was right in your face. There is no way you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t–” Eddie drags a hand down his face in aggravated uncertainty as he tries to articulate. “I didn’t know it was an option!”

Robin’s eyes narrow, arms crossing over her chest as she regards him suspiciously. “You’re gonna have to elaborate on that one, Munson.”

“I mean – I’ve hooked up with people before, and it… didn’t change anything. Sex is just sex, right? Sex with a stranger doesn’t make them less strange, sex with a bar buddy doesn’t magically make you closer, and I thought – with Steve, I just didn’t think it would – I just didn’t think,” Eddie admits. “I never thought he’d want to be more than my friend, I didn’t think he liked relationships, I figured what we had already was more than I could possibly have earned, so I just never even let it be an option. Practically fucking blinded myself, apparently. Just told myself it was ridiculous and… here we are.”

“That’s depressing as hell, first of all,” Robin says, tone still sharp, “but it’s not a good goddamn excuse. What the hell would you have even done differently if you’d thought it was an option?”

“Honestly?” Eddie gives a strained laugh, letting his head fall back and making his confession to the ceiling. “Probably the exact same fucking things, just�� on purpose. Sooner. More. I would’ve… known, and I could’ve appreciated it.”

There’s a long moment of silence, and when Eddie finally looks back down, Robin’s eyes are boring into him, startling in their intensity. It feels like she’s flaying him down past the bone, down to whatever the hell is at the core of him.

“Let me make this clear: I am not on your side. I will never be on your side if it comes down to you or Steve,” Robin says slowly, and Eddie only nods, because he knows that already. “Because, you know, I have never seen him happier than when he was with you – or when he thought he was with you, or whatever the fuck happened. But I have also never seen him more upset than he was last night, and I never want to see it again. You fucking crushed him, Eddie. You made him feel like he was stupid for seeing things that weren’t there, you treated everything the two of you did together like it meant nothing, you humiliated him in front of your friends–”

Eddie winces. “I didn’t mean–”

“I know,” Robin cuts in sharply. “If I thought you’d done any of that on purpose, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I’d probably already be crossing state lines to avoid murder charges. I know you didn’t mean to, but that’s not a fucking excuse. It still happened.”

“Okay, I know I fucked up. I know,” Eddie grinds out. “But you can’t get on my ass for not acknowledging a relationship I didn’t even know I was in. We never talked about it, okay?”

“It’s not about the relationship!” Robin only just keeps her voice to a hushed yell. “Should Steve have tried to talk to you seriously about it? Put a real label to it? Probably, yeah! But you–” she jabs a finger at him, “you didn’t pay any attention to him. You didn’t think about whether his feelings might change, you didn’t think about why he was acting differently around you, you didn’t think at all, you just took.”

Eddie opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He wants to argue that Steve is an adult who can make his own decisions, who had made his own decision, and he certainly hadn’t started sleeping with Eddie blindly. He wants to say that Steve had known what it meant to fall into bed with him, but he’s starting to understand that maybe he’s the one who hadn’t realized what it meant to fall into bed with Steve.

“You took him for granted, and that’s– that’s the worst part in all of this. Even if you were in some bullshit friends with benefits arrangement, you’re still supposed to be friends, but you just–” Robin pauses, pursing her lips around a frown. “People don’t fight for Steve, you know that? They just– I don’t know why, but they don’t, and it makes me so fucking angry, because he just gives people everything, without even thinking about it. He makes loving people look so easy that they forget that it's not and they take it for granted. They don’t treat it like it’s something special to hold onto. And I didn’t think you would be on the list of people who let him down like that.”

Eddie sort of wishes Robin had just tried to hit him instead. It would hurt less.

“I don’t… I don’t know how to fix this,” he admits. “You can yell at me all you want, and I’ll deserve it, but that’s not going to make it better. It’s not gonna make me suddenly able to un-fuck everything up.”

“I’m yelling at you because I want you to understand exactly what you did,” Robin says. “Because he’s going to forgive you.”

“He’s– what?” Eddie asks brows furrowed.

“We both know he is. Of course he’s going to forgive you. He’s probably already halfway to convincing himself this was all his fault. I’m not saying he won’t be angry and hurt for a while, but– he’ll forgive you, and he’ll want to be your friend again,” Robin says, low and serious. “So, no, you can’t un-fuck up. But make sure you’re worth that forgiveness.”

Eddie isn’t sure what to say to that. He isn’t sure there is anything to say to that. But it seems like Robin is done with him anyway. She hikes her bag higher up on her shoulders and turns for the door.

“Hey,” he finally manages, and Robin turns back to cut an impatient look at him. “I can give you a ride back. If you want. Get the meds back to him faster.”

“I can get back just fine,” Robin says, pulling the door open and tossing one last shot back at him as she leaves. “You were fine dismissing him last night – why start caring now?”

The door bangs shut behind her, robbing Eddie of the chance to argue – and he would have, because he does. He fucking does care about Steve. And if Steve gives him the chance, Eddie is going to fucking prove it.

No one fights for Steve? Fine. Then Eddie’s going to start right now.

Part 4

Tags: @bushbees, @y0urnewstepp4r3nt

#steddie #platonic stobin #eddie munson #robin buckley #stranger things #robin gets to be a little mean. as a treat :)#solar wrote #solar gave this series a name #which is unfortunate but we all have to live with it now

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vilebird · 5 months ago

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FUNERAL AFTER A NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE

a painting of a pale sky and bright blue sea crashing onto dark rocks and foaming. it's oriented the right way. - Day, by Frederick Judd Waugh

"and the man looks me in the eyes and he points to the blue-orange vault over heaven's gates and he says the face of everyone you miss is up there and i know i know i can't see them but i know" - And What Good Will Your Vanity Be When The Rapture Comes, by Hanif Willis-Abdurraqib

"i've cut myself off. i can feel the place / where i used to be attached. it's raw, as when you grate / your finger. it's a shredded mess / of images. it hurts." The Door, by Margaret Atwood

"i found you / i found the door / but when i stepped through / there was no floor" I want you, by Mitski

a still from a video of a bright setting sun against a dark orange sky and dark blue sea, with the caption "don't cry" - The Green Ray (1986)

"i feel dead. / i feel as if i were the residue of a stranger's life" - The Lost Pilot, by James Tate

"the shuddering moan of blood, a song to calm the sacrificial, the loss across the river. the way a dying animal will look at you is seared into me. we tie together and all over again." - i cant remember what this one is sorru

"i am feeling numb. it's a curious feeling, and i get it all the time. my attention to the world around me disappears, and something starts to hum inside my head. far off, voices try to bump up against me, but i repel them. my ears fill up with water and i focus on the humming inside my head. / i am inside my skull. it is a little cave, and i curl up inside it. below it, my body hovers, unattached." - Madness: A Bipolar Life, by Marya Hornbacher.

"-though we're dry and waiting. part of me died here so another could go on. the body i raised-" - When They Say you Can't Go Home Again What They Mean is You Where Never There, by Marty McConnell

text: "there'll always be a few things / maybe several things/ that you're gonna find / really difficult to forgive" image: a black silhouette of a minotaur sitting on top of a pale pillar rising out of a pale maze, looking out at an orange sunset over an empty desert beyond the walls of its maze. the text is black letters on white pasted in strips over top. - Up the Wolves by the Mountain Goats and Minotauro by Jordi Garriga Mora. collage put together by @scatterghosts

"i know there are things i haven't survived." - Lord of the Butterflies, by Andrea Gibson

"it seems to me that the dead only return for love or for revenge. who did you come back for?" - White is for Witching, by Helen Oyeyemi

a painting of a bright white bird on a background split between dark blue and black - Promised Land (2013), by Michael Creese

"and with or without your support, i will continue / what im trying to say is you never know what you've been through / til you pause and cough it out" - Cough It Out by The Frontbottoms

"painting all the mirrors black / i won't see you staring back / i'm getting lost forever / searching in the broken glass / trying to ignore the past / and put myself together" - Mirrors by 8 Graves

"saint calvin told me not to worry about you / but he's got his own things to deal with / there's really just one thing we have in common: / neither of us will be missed" - Saint Bernard by Lincoln

"so many bright lights to cast a shadow / but can i speak? / well, is it hard understanding / that i'm incomplete?" - Famous Last Words by My Chemical Romance

"being in a completely normal nonthreatening scenario & environment and thinking 'i have GOT to get the fuck out of here' with the intensity of some trapped neurotic prey animal" - tumblr post by user @greelin

"but you know me / what can't i conjure into hysteria / and longing? / any place is a funeral as soon as i get there. / of course i'm the disaster / but you're the one foolish enough / to learn my name." - The Next Time We Talk on Facebook, by Clementine von Radics

"if your wounds are still open, trust / they are the doors to an answer, / and walk through." - You Better Be Lightning, by Andrea Gibson

text: "what a tremendous thing to learn from" image: black text on white strips across a blue-orange gradient - i forgot this one too sory

"when the body remembers, it bucks wildly / when we try to heal, the phantom smell returns / while in the shower, you break down / while you wash your body you realise it is not your body / and at the same time, it is the only body you have" - Bless the Daughter Raised by a Voice in Her Head, by Warsan Shire

"that was the thing. you never got used to it, the idea of somebody being gone. just when you think it's reconciled, accepted, someone points it out to you, and it just hits you all over again, that shocking." - The Truth About Forever, by Sarah Dessen

"the spirit is so hurt / it don't know the / body / it / looks in / the mirror / and asks, who is it?" - On/My/Aging, by Carolyn Marie Rodgers

"could we sit together in new bodies, shoulder to tender / shoulder, / the lovely and the thorned, the bitter and the failed, / the grave to the left of us, the sea to the right?" - 8, Always a Rose, by Li-Young Lee

"the fact of the matter is / you survived, / it's what you do. / death and you / walk side by side / all sigh and scythe / you stay alive. / and you have the right / but struggle to believe. / you're still allowed / to be alive. / it feels inappropriate." - It's What You Do, by Lena Oleanderson @lena-oleanderson

a painting of a bright orange sky at sunset, sun nowhere to be seen, over a pale sea crashing onto dark rocks and foaming. it's oriented upside down. - Night, by by Frederick Judd Waugh

#webweaving #webweave #web weaving #poems #spilled ink #collage #litstack #axed title: i cant tell if surviving was the better option #wtf else did i tag this shit

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beanpodz · 3 months ago

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This is pointless but here’s what I would have done for each member of the umbrella academy during season 4:

1. Luther would still be a dancer in this for me but he wouldn’t live at the academy. He’d live with an elderly old man that he helps to take care of in exchange for a room. I want Luther obsessing over a father figure in every season. Sue me. His room would be full of abandoned hobbies (think knitting needles, a guitar with a broken string, a bookshelf filled with *blank* for dummies books). He’d have spent the last few years trying to discover who he is. Besides all of his hobbies he’d have a whole section of his wall dedicated to finding Sloane. If we couldn’t get the actress maybe we have a quick photo of her married to someone else or have that be discovered in the plot. I don’t necessarily think Luther has to have a happy ending with Sloane but he could have it in terms of getting over his daddy issues and discovering who he is as a person. He puts a lot of effort into his family (especially sparrow Ben) through out the season but he able to become a figure outside of his family this season.

2. Diego’s whole deal before this point is vengeance and vigilantism. The life of a UPS worker is so far removed from this but I’d keep it. I’d really want to highlight that this is something Diego does because he thinks this is what he has to do to be a family man. I’d also spend a lot more time this season on his family. Like him cooking breakfast or something while Lila (who I’ll come back to) is dealing with the twins while looking ready to pull her hair out. Lila’s parents would also have a lot more to do to. Maybe they nitpick Diego or maybe Diego isn’t sure how to behave around his new family that actually seems to be healthy. I’d also keep his lil dad gut but I wouldn’t make it a point of humor. It’d just be a thing to highlight the image of the dad he is. His storyline this season would deal with him wanting to be something (a father, a husband) while not really knowing how to do this and still having dreams of his previous life of excitement and action. Also would show drama with Lila and him navigating their new lives and maybe not in the healthiest way at first.

3. Allison would still be attempting to be an actress. But she would be hyper vigilant of Claire. She fought so hard and betrayed her whole family to get back to her. She might even be overbearing. Her emotional arc this season would have a lot to do with learning to allow Claire to become her own person. I also would have included Ray because he would NEVER just walk out but if we can’t get the actor I think maybe I would have killed him off (I’m sorry). Maybe the realization that her new timeline is not perfect helps to enforce the idea into her that Claire is not invulnerable. We’d also spend a lot more time talking about this. Ray would have a picture on her bedside table and maybe her and Luther could have some closure by talking about their loved ones. She would also have to work a lot harder to gain acceptance from her family.

4. Klaus’s would NOT get his powers back so early in the season. We would also not have any of his plot from the real season beyond the fact that he is now a hypochondriac. I really liked that detail. I liked Uncle Klaus loving Claire to death and them both learning to enter the big scary world would be a staple in his season 4 arc. Klaus would definitely talk about Dave more too. He’s so afraid of losing others because of his loss of Dave but he still has these worries about his own death. This could be his big moment this season. Him having to accept his powers, despite his sobriety and fear, in order to save his family in some way. The choice should be his. It would be his ultimate sacrifice and it would finish off his arc in a more satisfying way that doesn’t leave him as someone incapable of saving himself or others. We could also get his ghost army and levitation. As a treat.

5. I would have kept Five as a teenager. He’d be 17 at most and having to live with one of the other siblings (I’m leaning towards Luther). He’s ‘homeschooled’ at this point and spends his time trying to find inaccuracies in the timeline that could suggest another end of days. He’s obsessed with the apocalypse and a safe world can never feel safe for him. Lila still does not like or trust Five because of what he did to her parents in the OG timeline. But because he and Lila are still searching for danger (for different reasons) they end up attending the Keeper meetings together. The whole subway things happens but NOT the romance or the choosing to stay. Instead they both go through the timelines trying to solve the end of the world and we spend like 2 whole episodes on this. They see the apocalypse again. Five gets soft over Delores. Lila sees what Five went through to get back to his family. To save Diego. They eventually learn to see each other as family. And they’re only gone for a year before they both find the Five Deli. They’re dirty, injured, and have just spent the last year trying to get back and save they’re family. They do NOT accept the other five telling them to just die and give up. Maybe Five contemplates but now that Lila and Five are bonded and besties (please I just want friendship from them) she is able to convince to try ‘one more time old timer’. They get an exit found by another five and find a way to save the world (need more thought on how). Also after the world ends and Five no longer has a purpose like before, he finds a new one in his family and this adorable ( absolutely ugly) little dog that was eating trash in an alley.

6. Ben would still have been a crypto scammer because I love that. It’s sparrow Ben so there is still a huge disconnect from him and the rest of the family. I don’t think he gets a romance with Jennifer but he meets her. And it’s learned that Jennifer is not of this timeline but was in a squid that came from another one. I’m thinking the squid is what lives inside Ben and it’s escape is what killed him ( not the dumb as hell thing that really happened). The squid eats Jennifer as she is a hostage in whatever situation (mission by the beach idk) but she is one of the other 43 kids. She has powers similar to Viktor in the way that they are world destroying. The fact that she from another timeline is what gives her extra interest to Jean and Gene. Ben begins to gets realize he’s not exactly a great person compared to Umbrella Ben but begins to bond with them over the course of the season. Also the jar isn’t given to the umbrella academy by David Cross (already forgot his characters name) but instead found by Jean and Gene in the opening scene. They intend to give it to Jennifer once they get to her but instead are intercepted by five and Lila. Maybe they give it to Jennifer at a meeting as a ritual and Five steals it and takes it to the family. Now Jean and Gene are after them and they know Jennifer is gonna end the world. Plot with lots of moments for cool fight scenes and music numbers.

7. Viktor could be living Canada still. He still feels so isolated from the family that he struggles to be around them. I like the joke of him being someone incapable of maintaining a relationship but we know he could do it with Sissy so I would instead have him have a rocky relationship with a girl who maybe also isn’t in the healthiest spot. Since Viktor doesn’t get kidnapped in this version, his trouble involves introducing the new girl to his family and not knowing how to navigate these two worlds that have always been separate in his life. He gets to play violin still too because that was such a big thing in the comics and the violin is something that he learns to harness his powers with once they get their powers back. For what seems like the first time, Viktor isn’t ending the world but saving it. And he is fighting with his family as a powerful unit. Think early scene in s2 where they all realize their full potential.

8. Lila is struggling with her new life. She has a family, her parents, and a calm life. It was supposed to be a life only meant for her dreams but she finds it dull. Diego is showing off a facade of being happy in this life so she doesn’t want to talk about how it’s affecting her. She forms a tentative truce with five when she gets a dose of excitement by involving herself with the keepers. When she realizes she is once again in an apocalypse situation she has conflicting feelings about what this means for her and her family. She wholeheartedly joins five on the subway adventure not realizing how long it would be before she could see her family again. She bonds with Five and they both commiserate about loving their family so much but not knowing if they will ever have the ability to be happy. Her arc revolves around finding equilibrium between her two worlds and saving the world with Five. Someone she now sees as family and who she knows would do anything to save her because she’s family. She and Diego would talk and learn they both have issues with their new lives but they are dedicated to helping each other find what the other needs to at least be content. She also doesn’t ever cheat on Diego and the little Greek guy comment makes her laugh so hard she almost pees.

#I’m bored at work so here you are #this is all stupid and fun btw #I have more thoughts but I gotta stop or I never will #the umbrella academy #tua #five hargreeves #allison hargreeves #tua spoilers #diego hargreaves #lila pitts #viktor hargreeves #ben hargreeves #luther hargreeves #klaus hargreeves

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halucynator · 1 year ago

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Hey babe! Absolutely adore your writing! Do you have any recs?

Thanks! And yes! I'm so glad you asked. There's a lot though so it's gonna be a bit long x

Theodore Nott

@cassiopeiasdaughter : an exceptional writer, their Theodore Nott fics based on midnight songs are the best! Wish them good luck on their uni exams and check out their awesome blog xx

Here are some of my personal favourites from their blog:

August: Theo asks you to be his fake-girlfriend but you understand the assignment a little too well.

Fearless: Based on the song fearless by Taylor Swift.

Maroon: A diary entry written during the War based on the song maroon by Taylor Swift.

Check out their other midnights collection entries!

@avalynlestrange: another great writer! one of the best angst writers on this platform in my opinion x they also write mattheo Riddle fics

These ones are my favourite:

@the0doreslover: in love with their Theo fics!

Foolish one: In which you know you’re being foolish in liking Draco but will you finally learn your lesson? Theodore certainly hopes you do.

In my head: In which Theodore Nott is the man of your dreams. Literally. Who is his?

My favourite one is Cooking class xx

Here are a few Theodore Nott fics from writers who's blogs aren't all about Theo xx

I think he knows: you had fancied the mysteriously quiet slytherin boy for as long as you could remember (since first year), and, quite frankly, your best friend was sick of you going on about it without ever making a move

Now, I did some digging and @dreamcubed writes about other hp characters as well based on songs by Taylor Swift! Their work is amazing so go check them out! Sorry for the late mention, I just checked and realised that they have like a blog that revolves around hp characters xx

Electric touch: a cute guy stumbles into the coffee shop you work at and it alters your brain chemistry.

I thought you knew:“i thought you knew?” “you thought i knew we were dating?” “yes!” “how would i know that, nott, you never told me.”

Want you: Based on the following prompts: Why do you always look at me like that?” “Like what?” “Like you… Want me.” and "he doesn't even deserve to be breathing the same air as you"

Butterfly Love: Despite witnessing the death of his mother and being forced to grow under the watch of his Death Eater father, Theodore Nott is living proof that love and care bloom even in the most barren conditions. Maybe, they flourish even more.

Mattheo Riddle

@suugarbabe: their fics are absolutely magnificent. I recommend their saving grace series x the rest parts can be found on their blog x

These are some of my personal favourites:

Always: You & Theo have been best friends since year 1. Everyone things you and Theo are going to end up together but both of you like different people.

Drawings: based on prompts 'i never knew that about you...it's cute' and 'i can't believe I've never seen this side of you before'

Oblivious: contains smut Based on prompts "Are you really so oblivious?" And "Can I kill him now?"

@happilykrispypirate: another fabulous writer! Their mattheo angst fics are like the best x the mistake and don't touch her are my favourite xx

Some of my favourite mattheo fics are listed below x:

Black Quill: You never liked Umbridge, but who did? The woman was miserable and cruel. Her power in the school grew day after day.

Mattheo finds you crying alone: Imagine crying alone in the Astronomy Tower, hoping to escape everyone but Mattheo finds you

Torment : Reader is constantly bullied. Mattheo saves her from the bullies.

Everything and nothing: 1 2: where mattheo brings along a girl none of your group is fond of. Especially you. And the timing of it all is horrible.

Draco Malfoy

@talesofadragon: they have amazing fics and their fluff stories are the best! Check them out for Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes fics as well if you're interested xx

These are my favourite Draco fics by them. Their Draco masterlist is here.

Even if it's dark: Summary: Despite being raised in a traditional pureblood household with an overly abusive father, Y/N Y/L/N teaches Draco that light can exist even in the darkest of places.

Mittens: When Draco is in a foul mood and unwilling to disclose his problems, Y/N resorts to her animagus form to get him to talk.

@fallingforfictionalcharacterss: whenever I feel like I'm going to go back to my Draco phase I read their fics! Another really good angst writer x Their fics are so cool and I love them xx some of their fics I love:

Falling: Where you are falling for the one boy who is known to break every girl´s heart.

False friends and true love: Where you get into a fight with your best friend and she reveals your feelings for a certain boy in front of everybody.

Ruin your life: Why would you kiss out of all the people the boy you hate the most in this world?

@dreamingonfilm: another great writer! Their fluff fics are my favorite! These are some I love by them:

Pretending: in which you watch Draco as he falls out of love with you

Cramps: In which Draco takes care of you whilst you’re on your period.

Bruises: 1 2: After years of being bullied by Draco, you finally stand up for yourself. However, you left him with more than a bloodied cheek and a bruised jaw.

Some other fics that I love:

Amortentia: the rest parts can be found on that post. Summary: Pansy forces a secret out of you, and you’re strongly debating which curse/jinx to use on her.

Unforgivable: Where y/n gets poisoned because of draco's behaviour

Taylor Swift

This is random but if you want someone to talk to Taylor Swift about, check out @annaisabookworm. They're super sweet and supportive and their blog is about Taylor Swift xx I love their posts x

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lovelybotblog · 3 months ago

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─ iv. sympathy is a knife

summary: For some reason the universe always puts you in an unfavorable situation, a super secret mission with the person you don't want to encounter, you wouldn't achieve, not even if you tried. pairing: Satoru Gojo x female reader content: this bitches are messy asf, you guys are classmates but you don't fw his personality, I would say most of this is angst and also backstory from the reader song of the chapter: sympathy is a knife by charli xcx word count: 6.2k

“y/n, come here,” Sensei Yaga called you behind your back.

You pulled your head out of the classroom you were peaking for any sign of an acquaintance. You went for a nap after your morning class but since then neither Shoko nor Suguru had made an appearance, oddly to the usual, because they always managed to sneak on your bedroom and accompany you in the bed or sitting in your desk and finishing their homework, sharing the warmth of the sunset rays invading your room by the window.

“Follow me.” Your superior orders as you close the door in front of you, you raise an eyebrow when you catch a glimpse of mysteriousness in his movements, but never questioning it. You did the requested, walking behind the big figure of his.

You were getting used to sudden motivational talks and secret training sessions. You have met him before entering Jujutsu High, the first time you remember meeting him was at your parents funeral, ten years ago when Sensei Yaga had just gotten his teaching license. Nowadays, you weren’t really saddened by the absence of your parents, you no longer remembered them as much, they were like fleeting memories. You were too young, and you didn’t remember most of your early years, but the way you saw how your life was getting discussed in the living room of your house by your family and some said friends of your parents was important enough to remember.

"She's too young for us to take her, you know that," you remember hearing Yaga say to your mother's sister.

"Well, she is one of your kind, isn't she?" The woman replied, arms crossed, tears pooling in her eyes. You were never appreciated in that family of non-sorcerers, to them you were the spitting image of your father, the man who led your mother astray. "It will be easier for you to control her than we ever will be, that girl is a bad omen."

You still remembered the repudiation that their eyes expressed, the rejection that they always had towards you, a girl who hugged the empty coffin of her parents because the thing that killed them didn’t even leave a trace of their existence.

Your mother came from a middle-class, non-sorcerer family in the suburbs of Tokyo. It was a surprise to them to learn that their youngest daughter had "diabolical" abilities, though they let it pass because she was a good girl and still had time to be rescued, but that hope was dashed when she met your father and announced her marriage. Your father was a deserted member of the Zen'in clan, a promising sorcerer but considered "weak" by the family when he refused to fulfill the role assigned to him.

Sensei Yaga was their younger classmate, one of his closest friends. He never had the opportunity to meet the daughter of his idols due to a busy schedule, until the assigned mission was to analyze the case of their death.

"It will only be a few years, the father's family is not an option." Sensei Yaga implored, knowing what you would be subjected to if you fell into the hands of the Zen'in. If he had the chance he would have taken you under his protection, but the director had been cautious enough and forbade it. With a pension of high digits he managed to get your mother's sister to agree, but that didn’t prevent the Zen'in from finding your existence and with a larger check you being acquired.

He had never confirmed it to you, but you know that deep down he cares about you. Ever since the checkups he took the time to do on you when you were under the control of the Zen'in clan, where you were neglected by the Old Man, how you always called the person who was assigned to take care of you and train you, but he did nothing but scold you and punish you if you didn't do outstanding right away.

"Are you going to tell me what's all the fuss about or...?" You inquired, hands posing on the side of your hips in annoyance, one of your feet tapping the floor as you saw your professor close the door of his office then moving to the chair of his desk.

He sighed, you always try to show everyone off with a defensive and calculating position, but that didn't work with him, he had met your scared and childish side. "I have a top secret mission for you." A smirk fighted to escape when he saw your eyebrows extend in curiosity and your eyes shine with hunger, waiting for more information. “This is the direction.” He handed you a paper with his writing on it.

"And what do I have to do?" You asked again, unsure of what to think. Usually they gave you papers with all the information about the case, maybe this was different because it was secret.

The illusion of having your first top secret mission collapsed when your superior spoke again.

"I entrusted this mission to Satoru Gojo in the morning, as I suppose you have noticed his absence in today's class," Yaga respond, of course you noticed, it didn't need a genius to see the lack of irritating noise and the eyes of a creep on your back missing. "He was supposed to just pick up a package and return, tha assistant assigned to accompany him lost him, you have to find him-"

His words were cut off by the paper he gave you, being irreverent thrown at his desk. "Sir, with all due respect, why don't you find another person to babysit that boy?"

Yaga fought the urge to rant about your generation of brats and troublemakers, always harassing his peace, but he just breathed out, "Because you are the best of your class, and the person I trust to bring back the package and Gojo Satoru."

"Then why did you send an incompetent like him before me?" You huffed, jutting your hip, leaning forward in an accusative way, he was so lying to your face.

“Ehh? I'm your authority, you shouldn't be questioning me, young lady." The professor pointed out, handing you the paper again. He hoped that would be enough for you to take the case with no-whining about it. You took the paper from his hand, dissatisfied with the situation he was putting you on.

"Is that all?"

He nodded, dismissing you with a wave of his hand, trying not to chuckle as he watched you give him your back grumbling. He knew he might provoke some riot, forcing you to interact with Gojo. Actually, he didn't even need to give his students the mission. It was just a request the principal had made him, an easy to-do, but Yaga was too fatigued and Gojo was getting on his nerves earlier in the day, so yeah, the first thing that came on his mind was sending him away to a ‘mission he was the only one capable to do’.

You smacked your tongue against your teeth as you got out of the car that took you to the shopping district in downtown Tokyo, passing by Gojo's assistant. You couldn't blame him, your partner was a nightmare to deal with, but because of his carelessness you now found yourself searching for the strongest sorcerer on a street filled with crowds of people.

“Which way did he go?” You asked the assistant without stopping your walk, analyzing the street and the stores in the place. It was obvious that he got distracted from the purpose of his visit, you knew that if he had been attacked he would have easily gotten out of it, so that was not an option.

“Over there," the man replied, an unsettling anxious tone in his voice. He screwed up leaving Gojo alone, and now another sorcerer was sent to finish the job. "But that was hours ago. When I went to look for him, I couldn't find him. I don't know where he could be now. I'm really sorry."

“No worries, and thank you.” You reassured him, trying to put on your best smile to comfort him. You didn't know where he could be either, you didn't know him well enough to know where he could be, he could even have already left.

You continued walking down the sidewalk, glancing at the shops trying to find something that your classmate might be interested in. You were sure that the hardest part of the mission was finding him, but for a moment the option of picking up the package crossed your mind. After all, Gojo would be back that night or the next day, but you couldn't afford to leave a classmate behind. You were tasked with returning with the package and Gojo Satoru.

You chuckled, the universe always managed to get him on the track of your life, it was funny because that was one of the few things you avoided. Then you remembered how Suguru, one break between classes, when you and him were laying in a tree, the shadow of it cooling you from the heat of the sun, your shoulder brushing each other, and the first thing he said to you was, 'Why don't you try to sympathize with him?'

How could you? He threatened your success, your well being in your family was based on how much you could match his strength, they didn't expect anything from someone like you, you were warned to stay away from him, the reason the sorcerer community was shakened. Yet, you thought that if you were strong, you could live a better life. You didn't needed to gain approval by the Zen'in clan, but you did want to prove that you could be better than what they expected, that you could be someone to fear.

It burned you, it embarrassed you the way you think of him.

You finished browsing the clothing stores without any trace of his cursed energy, you were at the crossroads between the souvenir street and the food street. You would be in a dilemma if you hadn't seen the disgusting way he ate morbid amounts of food.

By now he should be hungry, you wanted to be sure you were right, little by little your annoyance began to increase and if you didn't find him quickly, the news of a whole street being strangely banished was going to be on the cover of the newspaper the next morning.

You had been walking for about an hour, approaching the windows of the shops to get a better look at the people, it was easy to notice a tall mop of white hair. You were really trying to convince yourself that spending so much time with non-sorcerers helped you understand them better, but god- you couldn't help but get irritated, noticing how they worried about such insignificant things, living so naïvely of the world around them.

You were starting to think about the 'what if', you hated those words. Rarely, but sometimes you think about what your life would be like if you weren't a sorcerer, nothing ever comes to your mind.

Almost unnoticed, a Mochis stand flashes in the background of your peripheral vision. A strong feeling hit your chest, suddenly cursed energy was screaming all over the place, that was why you hadn't noticed it from a distance.

You strode down to him, sneaking through the crowd of female vendors surrounding him, offering him samples of all kinds of mochi. Of course you were going to find him in that kind of situation. He was so delighted that he didn't notice you by his side for a few seconds, his arms were scoot with bags of shopping hanging, his hands full of the colorful desert, his round sunglasses slid down his nose.

“Mhmp.” You cleared your throat, both arms crossed over your chest to keep from punching his face off.

You watched as his head slowly turned towards you, eyes closed savoring the sweetness on his tongue and a bright smile plastered on his face, which slowly faded as his eyes took in the person in front of him.

"Is she your girlfriend?" A girl squealed beside him, your face twisted, looking up and down at the man in front of you, muttering a ─ew, no─

“Uhh- I- I didn’t knew you were here too.” He mumbled with rests of mochi stuffed in his mouth. He didn't decided yet if the bitterness that had fallen down his throat was because of the surprise of running into you or because of the annoyance that your face directed at him.

"I'm not supposed to.” You grunted, rolling your eyes. “Do you have the package?” You questioned, hoping that you could return quickly to the comfort of your bedroom. But you weren't that lucky, Gojo's face was lost in confusion, "The package? The thing that you were sent here for?" You asked, raising your tone, but your breath left you when the snow-haired boy popped a mochi into his mouth again.

"Oh, I forgot. I thought I had the day off." Gojo replied nonchalantly, slowly turning his back to you with a giddy smile, taking out money of his wallet to finally make his purchase.

“Huh? How could you forget that?!” You yelp, the vendors of your sides slowly disappearing from the scene. “"I've had enough, let's go." You ordered, smacking his arm, turning your body to leave as you massaged your nose bridge, a pang resounded on the sides of your forehead.

Gojo glanced at you, then the mochis, “I’m not going to waste my time on this.” He heard you say as you walked away.

The white-haired boy quickly exchanged the money for the box of mochi and bowed to the girls in gratitude, and sorry for the bother with your grumpiness. You are so moody─ he thought, following your steps as he carried the shopping bags on his sides.

When he reached your pace, he tried to read your expression. It was the first time the two of you were out on a mission, it was the first time the two of you were alone. But that didn't seem to bother you for him, you were too busy trying to locate where you were, eyebrows furrowed and your lips pouted in concentration.

He giggled, caughting your attention, enough for you to glance at him pissed off. He ignored it, taking the paper off your hand with the directions, reading it fast as he tilted his head to the street on your right. “C'mon,” He said.

"I have to make a call first." You stopped him, walking over to one of the nearby pay phones, the boy looked at you with a raised eyebrow, confused as to what you were going to do but following you anyway.

You stuffed the money into the slot of the machine and called Gojo's assistant. You grabbed the phone and placed it to your ear, the automated voice playing that your call was being transferred. You tugged your earlobe, facing more at the wall in front of you, avoiding Gojo's gaze.

He put his hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall next to you, looking away when he noticed what you were doing. His gaze fell upon a group of middle school girls who were watching you from a table outside a cafeteria, giggling and mumbling amongst themselves.

He huffed, his mind rambling about what was so funny about. He sneaked a glance at you, the way your gaze softened when you heard the assistant's voice, telling him that you found him. Then he looked at himself by your side, shopping bags in his arms. Both of you were wearing the same uniform, he guessed that for other people you looked like close friends hanging around after school, then he thinked a little more, boy and girl, you looked like a- He shook his head at that thought, a warmth settling on his neck.

You hung up the phone again and looked at Gojo, being more surprised that you would like when his cerulean eyes were already shining in your direction, "Are we going?" You said trying to keep your tone steady, letting out the air that the interaction had restricted you, you weren't used to looking him in the eyes.

He nodded, guiding you in the direction where you were going to pick up the package, since he was more familiar with the place than you.

You didn't notice, too deep in your thoughts, but a smile crept onto the white-haired boy's lips. You were walking together side by side, not you walking with a quick pace so as not to see his face, nor you walking too slowly behind him talking to Suguru immersed in your own conversation leaving him aside, this time it was you and him side by side.

When it came to you, you revolted his insides. Always too bratty, too hermetic for him to catch a glimpse of your true self. He could only see your outside, keeping him away with your indifference, something that causes a strong mordacious sting in his chest, bringing back memories of the rejection he received from his clan relatives and most of his upper classmates. But the difference between you and them was that you didn't show any kind of interest in him, neither positive nor negative.

When you passed by him you didn't look at him, and when you did you looked at him without any trace of expression, as if you were seeing a void. Never showing surprise by his ability to easily complete the ridiculously difficult training Yaga-sensei prepared for him, or by the missions he managed to successfully complete in record time.

But over time Satoru managed to notice that it was nothing more than a facade. You weren’t as heartless and blithe as you wanted to appear. He could see the twist upwards the corner of your lips made while hearing Shoko ramble or the way in which your eyes shone when you observed Suguru slowly getting beat by sleep in class. You would never admit it to him, but Satoru could tell how you cared for others from the shadows and secretly always trying to improve yourself.

You both walked in an unusual silence, making your way through the sea of people surrounding you. Your shoes echoed in unison against the stone floor until the sun set and the moon shone brighter under the cloak of the progressive darkness, leading your presences to an uninhabited street, only a couple of shops still in operation.

An old store that seemed to sell second hand items sat in front of you.

“Are you sure this is the address?” You questioned your classmate, grabbing the paper with the direction off his hand, no specifications of the place to help you.

He huffed, hanging his head in offense, “Tots.”

You entered the place keeping your doubts to yourself, you were no longer in the mood to question what you were doing. The top secret mission had seemed like nothing more than a joke to you, it shouldn't cost a sorcerer of your size so much. But the universe has managed to make the situation oddly inconvenient.

The lighting was poor, the wooden floor creaked with every step, the place smelled like dust and incense burning. You were supposed to just pick up a package but your instincts wouldn't let you let your guard down. There were only two customers in the store, hulky and grotesque looking, without a hint of cursed energy. But you knew too well that it wasn't synonymous of weakness.

Gojo walked behind you, his gaze shifting from object to object without interest, his hands clasped behind his head. When you got to the glass counter you didn't see any worker nearby, a well-polished golden bell shined in your sight and you pressed it. Gojo must have found it amusingly hilarious, because he pressed it not once, not twice, not even three times, but five times until you pushed his hand away.

He laughed out loud, the sound buzzing around the room as he turned around, flipping through a book on an oak shelf for sale. A man's voice echoed from behind a door at the back of the store, ‘coming!’. You couldn't help but prepare yourself for a possible fight, what if there was a misunderstanding and they didn't want to give you the package? Or if the package itself was of extreme importance and tried to steal it? You had to proceed defensively but there was no sign that those present were sorcerers. Even so, the companion on your side was surely going to want to show off if the opportunity arose.

The door opened, your gaze and Gojo's expectant, a hunched, white-bearded old short man smiled at you. Huh? You couldn't figure out what was so super secret about the situation, there were no obstacles to fight or some extreme security to break.

“Oi! The guys with the spiral buttons,” The man greeted you with narrowed eyes, putting on the glasses that rested on his head, realizing that you weren’t, in fact, men at all. "Oops, my sincerest apologies, young lady." He said ashamed under the thunderous and irritating laughter of your companion, who was holding his stomach and pointing at you mockingly.

You glared at him with flames in your eyes and gritted teeth, before returning your attention to the man in front of you. "Offense not taken." You try to answer kindly, faking a smile that only makes Gojo explode more because of the falseness of it. Maybe this is worse than getting covered in sticky curse residue.

“"I thought no one was going to pick it up anymore, I was told that you would come in the morning." The man pointed out the delay with some displeasure. You took the comment like a slap straight on the face, the snow-haired boy progressively quelling his laughter when it turned into embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, sir. There were some mishaps." You apologized, bowing your head in respect, poking Gojo in the ribs with your elbow to get him to repeat your action.

The old man nodded, waving a hand dismissively, he bent down to open the sliding door of the counter and took out a wooden box with several stamps indicating that it was a fragile product.

"The receipt?" The man asked.

Your eyes widened, you didn’t have it but Gojo quickly reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a sheet of paper folded in four and gave it to the man, who stamped one corner and signed it as delivered. "That would be all."

You cast a quick glance towards the suspicious men, now looking at a restored Nordic clock. If it were any package you would open it to check it, but it was clearly specified that it was secret even for you.

The harder part was finally over. You snapped your fingers at Gojo to carry the box, he clucked his tongue between his teeth and whispered 'Brat' low enough that only you and he could hear, but still he did as ordered. You pressured him from behind, tossing a thank you to the salesman as you walked towards the exit.

You both walked past the ones you thought might be a nuisance but were nothing more than simple shoppers. You were both dismissed by the door bell as it closed behind you. You let go a sigh, stretching your muscles, you don't even remember when you concentrated so hard to numb yourself that much.

“We should-” The sound of your mouth stops when you notice Gojo looking at you with a smirk, his glasses down in his nose bridge giving space to his eyes shining schemingly. “What?” You hiss, nothing good comes after his head flashes a thought.

“Aren't you curious what this box contains?" He asks you, running his fingers dangerously slowly over the opening of the box. You're about to say a direct no when he speaks again, “It could be a new special tool,” Gojo smiles from hear to hear, a purr longing in his words. Your low lip quivers, a new tool would be a good addition to your training. “What do you think it could be? Definitely not a type of sword, the box is too small."

You take an instinctive step back as he approaches you. “We are forbidden from opening it.”

Deny it, deny it, deny it, you forced yourself to fight his temptations.

"It's most likely a Kunai knife," Gojo ignored your comment, you growled, being intercepted by his right arm daring to rest on your shoulders, heat flooding your body. Your gaze fell on the contact of his hand with your shoulder, his heat poisoning your skin, making you stumble through your thoughts, you pushed him out of you by nature, or sanity preservation.

"But it would be epic if it were shurikens.” You heard him say, the jump in his voice when you looked at him didn't go unnoticed, he seemed as shocked as you were by his recent audacity. It was the first time he touched you, that he got physically close to you even. Gosh- you didn't even call him by his last name. “Didn’t you say you knew how to use them?" He tried to play it off.

His words brought you out of the trance of his eyes, you had never noticed that his glasses hid so much behind. His orbs resembled the bright water of tropical beaches so much, twining to the clear, aquamarine sky. Eyes shining like the reflection of the moon at night.

"Or receiving him at this place is just a facade, you know, because it's top secret." Gojo continued chattering, murmuring the last two words, his usual giddy smile plastered on his face again.

Your expression closed up, you truly were tempted to know the contents of the box but his way of convincing you was atrocious, he was just throwing a bunch of words at you until you gave in. He didn't even need your permission, and if he wanted, he could blame you for opening it.

Although the culprit would be more than obvious.

“Come on, I know you want to." Gojo coo, passing the box in front of your face, you shake your head, eyes closed and arms crossed. He pouted in annoyance but that didn't stop him from finding the truth himself. "Do you always play by the rules? Bo-ring."

You stuck your nose in the air, you weren't a sanctimonious person, but what was in the box was confidential information, you reminded yourself. Gojo looked to his sides and then lifted the lid of the box, eyes shining with excitement and a smile waiting for a big surprise.

Who were you kidding, you quickly approached to peek at the box.

As if you had witnessed a divine apparition, you raised your gaze to connect with his. Both of you were expressionless and your mouths were gaped, a confirmation that you didn't see wrong.

You both burst out laughing at the same time, as if you were looking at a reflection. Suddenly there were no barriers between you two, the revelation of the content was more outrageous.

It was a Hello Kitty music festival edition tea set.

Why of all the things that could be, it was just the most ridiculous?

If someone had told you in the morning that later you would find yourself laughing with Satoru Gojo, you would have checked-in the person in a psychiatric center for nutso.

Gojo's laugh was partially dismissed when he caught your smile, you were all laid back with the corners of your eyes crinkled, he felt like a warm blanket embraced his body. He was a little intimidated by the way he felt his pride rise at the knowledge that he now shared a memory with you, that he sighed in despair when your voice hummed like a melody from his ears to the cage of his chest.

Betrayed by his mouth his thoughts escaped out loud, "Knowing you could smile like that I would have made you laugh sooner."

As if you had been threatened with being pierced by a thousand cuts, you stopped dead.

Gojo felt a heat burn on his cheeks, the words stuck in his throat, but forcing himself to play it cool, “I don’t understand why you are always so pressed.”

Suddenly the atmosphere became bitter, settling into Gojo's body.

You regained your demure posture, weight once again falling on your shoulders, the constant brickbat not to ruin your family's appearance any further by hanging out with anomalies like Satoru Gojo drowning your thoughts. Your smile faded in eyebrows twitched and nose wrinkled, “I don't hope for you to understand.”

He shaked his head, deep down wishing that he could go back in time one minute ago.

“And if we are gonna talk about understanding, then I could say I don’t understand why you are so obnoxious all the time.” You snapped, an urge to return him the bad taste kicked in you. Contrary to what people thought, you didn’t enjoy fighting meaninglessly.

You knew that Gojo would one day return the pitiful behavior you directed at him, but you didn't expect to be shaken by such childish and insipid words like 'pressed'.

“You know nothing about me or my past, and I have never messed with you for you to try so hard to bother me and make my life difficult,” Your words came out of your mouth without thinking, as if a dam was overflowing without any control, making a direct path towards the destruction of everything nearby. "Because that seems to be what you want, you stand in one place without thinking twice about If you are blocking someone else's path."

You watched as white strands flew in front of his motionless eyes upon you, his mouth gate open to speak, closing again when nothing came out.

His thoughts bounced around with indecision, he didn't mean what he said, no, it was sincere but not worded correctly for you to understand. Then a crack split in his mind, but did you mean what you said? He wanted to know better than he did, that you weren't as deceiving and hurtful as you scratched, but any trace of your smile and the small dose of warmth it gave him left no trace behind when you noticed his presence. Your indifference hunted him down.

It wasn’t disinterest or apathy. Satoru's theory that his Six Eyes weren’t telling anything to him was wrong, his instinct was sending him signals but he simply couldn’t decipher it.

You were like searching for a message in a bottle sunken in the sea.

He would have every right to be angry at being judged and unwanted without reason, but he was looking for more behind that. Since that day when he saw you talking to Suguru, leaning on his shoulder, fully trusting all your weight in him, with your guard down and your expression so soft and attentive to his words, it made Satoru think that the reason for your behavior towards him was something more than simple annoyance or envy.

He'd be lying if he said he was used to being hated and rejected as well as praised and loved, sometimes he could tolerate it more, but you were like hiding small doses of poison in his favorite food.

"Is that what you think of me?" His voice came out more sneering than his expression reflected.

He didn’t consider himself an understanding person, he tried to be until people convinced him that the world owed him for his existence. That if he was born with the purpose of being better than others and protecting them, then he was at a godlike level above them.

Your eyebrows furrowed and your fists clenched, you couldn't figure out if he was still provoking you or if he was trying to hide his thoughts.

"I don't trust someone who is always smiling and whose only method of communication is to piss people off with wordplay.” You added, catching his grin tense.

You had been watching him from your peripheral vision for as long as you'd known him. Unlike you, he didn't enjoy a serious fight that was open to negative emotions.

"I don’t like you not because you're immature or loud, or because you've been the face of jujutsu sorcery since you were born." Your words meandered in front of the boy, accompanying you as you got closer to him, each step squeezing his chest, making it difficult to breathe normally. The atmosphere was tense and it progressively closed in even if you were outdoors.

It was twisted the way you could aimlessly shoot your words like bullets to his weak points, but it was more twisted the way he let you keep going just to hear what your perception of him was. As if that would be the key to finding the answers to do the same with you.

He was a better-man than the rest of humanity because he had the power to be worse than any.

“I don’t like you because you were given everything and you don’t seem to take the importance of it, you have every right to not care about it or anyone.”The fact that you were opening your deepest feelings was revolting your insides, your despair crawling weighing on his body.

“Is that so?” He nagged, gripping the edges of the wooden box still between his arms around his chest. Being used so childishly and uselessly as protection from your snipes.

It wasn't just your thoughts about him, but also the emotional discharge you were throwing at him. You were aware that he was not at fault for being the switch-breaker of the community of sorcerers and curses, it just turned out that casualty made both of you meet your paths.

“You represent everything! You are strength and the reminder that weakness exists because you aren't that.” Your voice was raised, piercing his ears, wording him so kindly but also recalling every scolding and reviling surmised to him by everyone who misinterprets him.

"And that's the only thing that makes you oppose me?"

"Of course not!” You replied, biting your lower lip, hesitant to say what was next, but you were tired of keeping it in. Those feelings wore you down just as his cursed energy consumed his brain, “I'm selfish, I'm ambitious, it frustrates me that we could seem to come from similar and privileged places and at the same time be so different and hurt. I'll never be able to be as skilled or powerful as you, no one else can, I can't aspire much to things that are innate given to you without forgetting my limits."

Your head was pounding incessantly, you didn't know if it was because of the accumulated fatigue or the embarrassment that was growing red and hot on your face.

“But the thing is,” You murmur, stepping closer, the box with the package was the only thing producing space between you, a quick flash of a thought wondered if it wasn’t there, how much would you dare to get close? Enough to slap him? Enough to push him?, “I don’t understand why everyone expects so much from you, because to me you seem just like a kid who obviously would rather not carry all the weight people put on him.”

His eyebrows raised, his eyes widened, and his cheeks tinted pink as your pitiful soft gaze fell upon him, intimidating him as if he were a child again. Anyone would think that you were seeing him as a poor thing, as if you wanted to snatch away what he owned, as if you were going to stab him with a dagger out of compassion.

But he had the ability to see further than others, physically and figuratively. You didn't need to give him more explanations to make him understand, although your actions firstly made him think that you weren't even a little envious of him, they were uncertain, your sincerity led him further into his thinking.

You were real, you were observant and cautious for that very reason, you had become one of the first people that saw him beyond prejudice. You were capable of being human and aware of your weaknesses, and at the same time being governed by reason and morality. He couldn't blame you for keeping your distance with him because his nonchalant and playful mask had been dismantled without him realizing it.

He played his most annoying card, he tried to bring you to the edge of hysteria to test your limits and he never completely succeeded because you were surely just as or even smarter than him, and you were also testing him.

It didn't bother him that people thought he was arrogant and apathetic, after everything experienced in his lifetime he concluded that not everyone had the capacity to understand the level he was at.

When the car that would take you back to Jujutsu High arrived, you got in without saying a word or looking at him, not ignoring him because you were mad but because you understood that what you said not only implied your vulnerability, but his as well.

‘You seem just like a kid who obviously would rather not carry all the weight people put on him’ He couldn't even get angry or overthink about your raw comments that hurt his ego. For the first time in his life he felt truly seen and he couldn't stop himself from constantly smiling about it.

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garbinge · 4 months ago

Text

The Year of 1969

Johnny Davis x F!Reader Benny Cross & F!Reader

Summary: You decide to leave Chicago with your brother and have to break the news to Johnny.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Grief. Loss. Main Character Death. Canon Spoilers. Angst.

A/N: First Bikeriders fic I’m posting!!! But I have a buuuunch more coming. I decided to rewatch today and just got hit with this idea. Enjoy!

The Bikeriders Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989

You put it off for far too long. To the point that now you were juggling with whether it’d be worth telling him now or have him just figure it out when you were gone. That’s what you were currently doing, right outside The Stoplight, deciding which option would hurt him less. You knew which one would be easier for you, just leave without a word, but you also knew it wasn’t fair. He just had to say goodbye to his best friend, Brucie, and you saw how much that wrecked him. And now you were going to pile this on as well.

Before you could think anymore your legs pushed you through the doors of the bar, the light smokey haze mixed with the low sound of music meant that it wasn’t busy, just a few of the guys. Made sense since it was still light outside, most of the guys were probably still working but the ones that were here probably had earlier shifts or were off like Johnny who didn’t have a trucking run for another week.

“He-eey.” The voice was cheery as Corky welcomed you in. It caused a few other of the guys to look up and greet you with smiles, Johnny included. His smile wasn’t as big as the others, or even like his normal grin. That’s what made this even harder, when Johnny lost Brucie, not only did things with the club change, but so did things within Johnny. And now you were going to break him more.

“Hey guys.” You smiled, similarly to Johnny.

“Where’s your brother?” Cockroach leaned forward, “told me he’d let me take a few shots on his camera one day, learn about loading film n’ stuff.” He was smiling from ear to ear, looking at the other Vandals as he boasted. Little did Cockroach know, your brother was packing up his stuff for New York as you stood there with your stuff in the car already.

“He’s uh–” You thought of an excuse but just couldn’t bear it and turned to Johnny. “Can I talk to you for a second, Johnny?”

The guys might have been a little oblivious sometimes, but they picked up on your tone immediately. Their smiles were vanished from their faces and suddenly they were all trying to look anywhere but at you and Johnny.

“Yea–uh, let’s go outside.” Johnny was standing up and placed his hand around your back lightly to guide you outside.

The sun was starting to set, it was honestly one of your favorite times at The Stoplight, the way the sun would cast its golden rays on the line of bikes that would be outside. Maybe it was the artist in you, since living with your brother you tended to see the beauty in things like that. Moments you wanted to capture and keep alive forever. It was a shame that now, as the sun glistened on the paint jobs of the bikes and the road fell silent and Johnny stood a few feet from the bar entrance, this was a moment you’d never want to remember, one that’d you drink to forget.

“Smoke?” Johnny asked as he stood on the sidewalk near the curb.

“I’m alright, thank you.” It was then that you moved to stand next to him, arms crossed, taking a deep breath as the words started to move from your mind to your throat.

It took you a few minutes, ones that you two just stood in silence for. That wasn’t unusual for you two, there were tons of times where you and Johnny didn’t talk, it was usually because you were doing other things, his mouth was preoccupied with your own, or the guys were around and your conversations were with them all. But right now it felt unusual because normally when it was just you two, you’d talk, about everything and nothing at all. The TV shows you’d watch, the news, stories, you’d love to tell Johnny stories, real ones, fiction ones. You’d talk about the shots you took on the camera your brother gave you, your purpose. It was what brought you here in the first place, at your brother’s place. Lack of purpose. You thought if you’d learn about what Danny was up to at school, you’d learn something yourself, and you did. But you weren’t sure if photography was truly it. It was Johnny who told you that you should tell stories, like the people on the news when it clicked. You wanted to be where the action was, a writer and newscaster.

“You see those guys with those helmets they launched up into space?” Johnny broke the silence after exhaling the cigarette smoke. “Travellin’ round the moon and the stars and stuff.” He was nodding. “That, uh, Barbara Walters you told me to watch was reportin’ it. Cool shit.”

“Johnny I’m leaving.” You blurted the sentence out, the pain coming right along with it as you felt your stomach knot.

It was like instinct, he looked over at your car. The suitcases were piled up in your backseat, the one that you two so frequently found yourselves in over the last few years.

“Where ya headed?” It was far too casual for your liking, but you also knew not to expect much else from him.

“New York. With Danny.” You mentioned your brother’s name and he nodded as it all clicked in his head. He could’ve been mad, said something along the lines of maybe trying to do something for yourself for once and not follow someone else’s dream, someone else’s life. But he knew it wouldn’t have been true. He knew exactly what you were going to do once you were in New York.

“Heard they got that, uh, big music festival out over ‘dere in the uh big apple, you oughta head there and check it out, write a story on it.” He was pointing in a direction like it was where New York was as he spoke. “Nixon election’s comin’ up too, could write about that.” He dropped his head to the left, his face moving to a frown, thinking how that could also be a viable option.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.” Any other time you would have loved to talk about all the stories you were going to get over on the east coast, but right now you were just hoping you could leave on semi-decent terms with Johnny.

“S’no problem.” He inhaled one last puff of the cigarette and dropped it on the ground.

You were turning to look at him now, arms still crossed, emotion building up as tears in your eyes.

“Stop all dat.” He tossed his arm over your shoulders and looked out at the sunset. “When you leavin’?” While he knew it was tonight, he wanted to know how much time he had left, it would determine what he’d say, how he’d act, although the more he thought about what your answer would be and what he’d do, the answers all felt pretty similar.

“Later tonight, I got a couple hours.” You were leaning into him, arms still against your chest as you brought your hand up to wipe the tears.

“Get back in dere.” He tipped his head toward the bar. “Grab a drink, we’ll hang for a while.”

“For a while.” You accepted his offer, looking back up at him.

“Go.” He smirked, his arm releasing you now. “Before more show up and you’re left with the shitty beer. I’ll be in in a minute.”

As you went back inside, Johnny’s smile faded. He pulled out another cigarette and walked over toward your car and just stared at the bags in the back as he smoked the cigarette down. He must’ve lit up a few because when he came back to it, there were about 5 buds on the ground next to him, the sun had set and Benny was approaching him.

“Everything good, Johnny?” He was leaning curiously toward the man before he entered the bar.

“No, s’not.” He mumbled under his breath as he let his head fall back for the quickest second before looking over at Benny and joining him at the entrance of the bar. Johnny’s hand raised and flew over Benny’s shoulder. “Hey, yea, everything’s’well.”

________

“Hey, you hear about that weird thing over in Chicago?” Your coworker walked up to your desk and interrupted a thought of yours. Your eyes closed and you collected your frustration as you looked up and made eye contact with them.

“What weird thing?”

“Someone was murdered in Chicago.” Your coworker leaned on the wall of your cubicle. The first part of the sentence, surprisingly didn’t shock you, as a news reporter you had received a lot of stories similar and you were really concentrated on making this deadline for your next piece to end up in the paper, but when they said Chicago, you started to pay attention. “Chicago?”

“Yea, some gang violence or something. They sent someone out there to report on it, I think Gary from features, he’s packing up his stuff now. Seems like they’re gonna write a big thing on bikers and the uprising of motorcycle clubs.”

That’s when your heart started to sink. “You get a name?” Your body was frozen but you were waiting to hear someone’s name that was familiar to you for you to grab your things and leave. Cal. Zipco. Benny. Corky. But not his.

“I think Johnny something–Davis! Johnny Davis.”

Within seconds you were in your car, one destination in mind, you had gotten more information on a small town radio station which is how you learned where it happened. The whole drive you wouldn’t let your mind think about it, let it be real. As you pulled up to the abandoned parking lot, you wouldn’t have been shocked if you didn’t even put your car in park, you were stepping out so quickly. You weren’t exactly sure what you were looking for, but it was true that you’d know when you saw it. Because you did. The blood stained on the pavement made you freeze and that’s when your heart finally broke and reality sunk in.

You remembered your last memory with him.

His hands wrapping around your face as he leaned against your car, his feet still on the curb but his back against the car. You were on top of him, laughing as he placed a kiss to your lips. “Thanks for the last minute farewell party.”

“If you gave me a heads up, coulda had Corky bring streamers.”

You remembered how much pain that comment brought you and how he realized it immediately.

“Hey, ey, ain’t meant nothin’ bout that comment. Just shootin’ the breeze with you.” He kissed you again, this time with no smiles, no laughs just pure passion.

“Let’s go for a ride.” You whispered against his lips, your way of prolonging your goodbye.

“Think it’s probably time for you to head outta here, s’late.” Johnny still had his arm around you and his other lightly touching your face.

“One last ride.” You whispered again.

Johnny knew if he got you on his bike, he’d drive the night away in avoidance of letting you go. He also knew every time he got back on his bike he’d think of you and he couldn’t handle that. So as he kissed you quiet again, his left hand moved to open the passenger seat of your car. He didn’t say anything but he didn’t need to. You knew what he was saying. You pushed off him, despite everything in you wanting to crawl back on him in that awkward position and stay there forever. As you dropped your bag in the passenger seat, he closed it and walked around to the driver’s side and opened it up. With a deep sigh, you plopped inside and immediately leaned out the window, your arms crossed hanging outside.

He leaned down, his arm resting on the top of the car’s roof now. “Will miss you tellin’ me those stories, but I’ll, uh, get one of the guys to help me send a letter to subscribe to the New York news.”

“Just don’t have Corky imitate my voice.” You smirked. “He really exaggerates my midwestern accent.”

“Nah, I’ll just call ya and have you read ‘em to me.”

“You promise.” Your face got serious, it felt like that statement needed reassurance. Most of your relationship with Johnny was all jokes and fun, so you needed to know if he was serious. He stared at you for a minute, his face getting serious as well. His hand tapped the roof of your car, “You better take the ‘spressway, 490s always backed up.”

He didn’t break the promise, because he never made it.

“Will miss you listenin’ to my stories.” You mumbled, staring at the blood stain, trying to imagine what happened and every scenario was wrecking you thought by thought, until your thoughts were interrupted by a loud engine approaching.

Your body turned and you saw Benny Cross, eagerly walking up and standing next to you. Emotion heavy on his face as he stared at the blood stain. Neither of you said anything, just stared. There was no tension, just every other emotion you could think of instead.

“Heard you left.” It should have made Benny jump but he felt numb and just nodded before talking.

“Not long after you did.” Benny agreed.

You just acknowledged him with the same gesture. “I’m back in Chicago.”

“Me too.”

Silence again, still both of you just looking at the red mark that had turned deep red almost brown on the dark pavement.

“I’m done riding.” Benny broke the silence this time. Your head turned to look over at the bike that he took here and that he’d likely drive out of here and you frowned in confusion but then you realized. He just came back just like you. When you said you were back in Chicago, you weren’t really back in Chicago, you were just back in Chicago, like 1 hour back. Your car just drove over the Illinois border an hour ago, and you think Benny did the same.

So now, the two of you just stood numb, over the blood of the one man you both knew and loved, wordless as the grief draped over both of you.

#The Bikeriders #the bikeriders movie #Tom Hardy #Johnny Davis #Johnny Davis x Reader #the bikeriders x reader #garbinge #my writing

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twisted-wonderland-but-gayer · 4 months ago

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Idk if this qualifies as dark content but-

I can’t help but imagine yuu picking up bad habits as ways to relieve stress since being at nrc

Yuu is just in a downward spiral. In the beginning they never would’ve thought about smoking or drinking, but as time went on at nrc it’s just gotten worse or worse.

At first it was a smoke here or there, now it’s at least once a day, they finish off a pack weekly. They’re constantly drinking trying to numb away their pain.

If Crowley’s allowance isn’t enough they aren’t above stealing a few bucks to pay

I’d imagine the smell of cigarettes and alcohol would annoy everyone but mostly the beastmen

Since they’re never 100% sober or fully present in the moment, they have trouble remembering things

These are just a few ideas I had with this but I’m curious to know what you think about it

I don't think so? I'll tag it as angst

This is something I thought a lot about though. A yuu just spiraling. I also thought a lot about a yuu that CBT'd in the their world and ended up in twst but instead of a whole "wow I learned that life is worth living!!!" They wish they were double dead.

Yuu that is so convincingly fake unlike cater. Mixing their true personality with a much happier one. They never really have any attachment to anyone, maybe they even despise everyone here but unlike the cast they can actually act.

A happy yuu that started off as a ray of sunshine becoming unrecognizable. Or the ray of sunshine becoming a face now.

Mean!Yuu can make a comeback here. (Peep their tag) A sweet person trying to better themselves but realizing that here it's just not worth it.

A yuu very bluntly and emotionally opening up to everyone how they don't value their life and crave death since coming here and despite everyone trying to change their mind and object they just kinda blink. Oh, so now they care?

Alternatively a yuu that worsens in the worst way imaginable. NRC believes so heavily in "the strong rule the weak" funny how they deny that now after Yuus ascension in power. Doesn't feel good when the roles reversed. After all it's a pretty weak mindset to begin with.

Or maybe at the end of it. An overblotted yuu. But there is no battle, no fanfare, no anger. Unlike the rest of them they have had their emotions in check for a good while. Just let the phantom consume them as they finally rest. It's the kindest thing they could do. You can't save them anyways. Their blot has grown since the very first day of coming to this world.

Please let them die.

#mean yuu #not writing #not requests #angst

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xmads-omensx · 3 months ago

Text

CHAPTER 1 - SOAKED IN THE NEON GLOW

Content warnings: Violence, Swearing, angst, death, blood, weapons, enemies to lovers, alcohol Word Count: 5802

VANIA

The rain pattered on the ground surrounding me as I stood outside the warehouse before me. Karius always gave me the jobs that no one else wanted. I had nothing to lose. He knew that. And I can see why no one wanted to take on this job. Getting into the warehouse had been no small feat. ERRA, one of the biggest organisations here, owned the building and it was extremely evident by the sheer amount of security they had invested in.

Luckily for me, my savings came in handy when the Underground had gotten in some new Optics that I immediately got installed. My eyesight was now phenomenal and spotting ERRA’s men positioned out of view was as easy as seeing them in broad daylight.

By some insane stroke of luck, I got into the back office with little to no trouble and stole the chip Karius was paying me to grab for him. I learned the hard way not to ask questions. And trust me, I wish I had never asked questions in the first place. Questions get you killed in this line of work.

I like to work quietly. In and out. No funny business. I only kill when I have to. The less mess the better as it is harder to trace back to you. Something OMNS doesn’t quite grasp. OMNS is a crew who have been running for as long as I can remember. There are four of them. Folio was their scout, always riding ahead on his bike with his x-ray optic upgrades to… well… scout, kinda a giveaway if you ask me. Jolly was the muscle. He was upgraded to an extent I wouldn’t even be able to handle even in my wildest dreams. Nick was the crew leader’s right hand. He was the brains. Rumour was that he was a crazy good netrunner and could hack anything from over a mile away. That leaves Noah. The leader. The fucker was even more upgraded than Jolly was. Nobody knew anything about that crazy son of a bitch except from the fact that he is the most ruthless and cold fucker to ever step foot in the Concrete Jungle.

Those four men have been making my life in this line of work literal hell for years. It started when the leader of my old crew stole a job from them and ever since they have been taking it out on all of us. However, when my crew got killed a few months back, OMNS focused their rage onto me. It started with them stealing jobs from me. Then evolved into implicating me on their shitty work. As if I would ever leave that many bodies lying around. God. Men are so messy.

The rain washed away all of my fatigue and the cold reminded me that I still needed to get the chip to Karius before I got caught. I hopped on my motorbike, pulled my black and pink hair into my helmet and began my journey to meet K.

Poppy’s was a popular location for crews from all over the Concrete Jungle to meet and relax after jobs. The neon lights that illuminated the place reflected off of the puddles on the concrete ground as other crews mingled about the place. Most of them usually hung out in the parking lot outside to show off their upgrades, but due to the rain everyone had migrated inside.

The barstools are all occupied along with the booths lining the walls. The stage in the middle of the room was occupied by a cyborg woman dancing to the music blaring throughout the building. My eyes danced around the room looking for a familiar blonde-haired man so I could get in and out of here as quickly as possible.

Karius was a tall, well-built man in a grey suit. He looked out of place being in a bar like Poppy’s, full of low-life criminal crews and other people who had been forced out of the more legal side of life. The only thing that made K somewhat fit in were the projectile launcher upgrades he had fitted into his tree-trunk like forearms.

“Look who finally decided to show up.” Karius called. Not even looking up from the shitty whiskey he had been drinking.

“Yeah, well I’m not exactly going to be super fucking fast if you send me out on a job like that are you?” I snapped back at him.

His broad shoulders shuddered as he chuckled at my bitchy tone. K and I had always had a decent employer-employee relationship. Neither of us had any reason to stab each other in the back. The dynamic wasn’t close or personal by any means but we was the closest thing I had to a friend.

“You know, V, these jobs would be a hell of a lot easier if you just joined a crew.” Karius argued. He had been pushing for me to join another crew pretty much since my last one fell apart. But he just saw credits, not people. I guess that’s what helped keep that wall up between the two of us.

“Yeah, well, we both know that will never happen.” I replied with a sigh, “Now do you want your precious chip or not K? I got places to be.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Here… your payment that we agreed and a tip for your troubles.” Karius replied, taking the chip out of my hand.

I made to leave Poppy’s and head home so I could get some much needed rest when I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder. I whipped around, preparing to engage my Mantis blades, when I realised that it was Karius who had grabbed me. I relaxed upon realising that he wasn’t a threat. You never know in these parts of the Concrete Jungle.

“One more thing V.” He said with a smirk on his face as he led me back towards where he was sat at the bar, “I have another job to discuss with you. Let’s just say it’s a matter of… urgency.” The smirk on his stupid face told me everything that I needed to know. This job would be dangerous. Ridiculously dangerous.

“ERRA have doubled their security and I need something else from them. I can’t go in and get it as that would be too obvious. And besides, I’m only the middle-man. It’s my boss who really wants this. You understand right, V?” Fuck. Another ERRA job. Karius still wore his signature smirk on his face.

“Are you trying to fucking kill me asshole?” I sighed back at him dejectedly. Alreadyaccepting that I probably won’t be seeing my bed tonight.

“Now why would I kill my best runner?” K laughed back at me. “I would never make any credits then would I? And besides, by boss would have my fucking head V.”

“Fair point.” I replied

“Okay. ERRA’s leader, Jesse, owns that skyscraper off of Coyote Park right? The red one? Tomato colour? He has an office on the second top floor. I need access. But the only way to get into the office is through a three part authentication process. Part 1: the warehouse. You did that part. Check. Part 2: ERRA also owns Electric Twilight. You know, that super exclusive club? If you get the chip, looks exactly like the one you got for me tonight, from the main office on the top floor of the building, then we are one step closer. Now, onto part 3: You will need to find a way into the basement below ERRA’s secondary base. Now security will be tight. But those new optic upgrades you’re sporting should help you. They look good by the way. In the basement there should be a safe. That is where the final chip is. Get all three of those and you should be good to get into their skyscraper.” Karius explained.

“Okay, sounds simple enough. You know, if you ignore that ERRA is the biggest fucking crew in the Concrete Jungle you fucking ass! Do you want me dead!” I replied, full of anger.

“Well luckily for you, it won’t just be your ass on the line. I have arranged back up for you this time.” Karius replied. His smirk not faltering for a second as he laughed at my outburst.

“What do you mean?” I asked, confused.

“You will be working with a crew”

“No!”

“V please.” Karius pleaded, “You need the backup for this. And I really fucking need to get into that goddamn skyscraper.”

“Karius. I work alone. You know this. Especially after last time.” I explained through gritted teeth.

“And why might that be?” A new voice entered the conversation.

I turned around and behind me stood the tallest man I had ever seen up close. Noah. Fuck. I would quite literally rather die than work with this man. His dark brown eyes glared craters into my own as he smirked smugly down at me. He knew something that I was not yet privy to. Double fuck. I refused to be caught unawares by the man who had been making my life hell for the past five months.

Noah wasn’t exactly unattractive. In fact, he was probably the most attractive guy I’ve seen in the Concrete Jungle. His huge, muscular frame was covered in beautiful tattoos. His cyberware was top of the line, which was rare in this line of work, and looked fucking killer. He could kill everyone inside of Poppy’s right then if he really wanted to. His eyes were the deepest brown I had ever seen. His dark hair framed his face effortlessly. He was gorgeous. I hated him even more for it.

Karius greeted Noah with a belly laugh, which was most definitely at my expense considering how both men towered over me. I was absolutely fucked.

“Noah. This is Vania.” K began, “Vania, this is Noah. He is the leader of OMNS. That crew who ran the Kingdom of Cards job oh so very smoothly about two months back. Ring a bell?”

It most definitely did ring a bell. I was supposed to do that job. Me. Not OMNS. Me. Asshole.

I rolled my eyes in response to Karius, whilst Noah chuckled at me. Fucker.

“You will be working together on this ERRA job. And V, before you start complaining, I don’t want to fucking hear it. You will work alongside them in order to get this job done.”

“Then why doesn’t OMNS just do the ERRA job and you give me something else?” I scoffed in reply.

“Because, V, OMNS need someone with your skillset. They don’t have anyone as quiet as you. And we both know those Lynx Paws were not cheap in the Underground so you may as well use them to get your credit’s worth.” Karius explained with an exasperated sigh. “And besides, we both know why you need this V.”

Fuck. There was no way in hell that K was seriously blackmailing me. Especially not in front of Noah. Right?

“As much as it pains me to say, Vania, we can’t exactly do this job without someone like you.” Noah offered. Clearly reluctant to compliment me.

“What the fuck is in it for me then?” I pushed. Needing something to convince me to actually go through with this.

“One million credits, V.” Karius stated.

Yeah, that would convince me.

“Fine. But we do this my way. Or we don’t do this at all.” I argued back. Refusing to give in and make myself look like I would just roll over for credits.

“Not gonna happen princess.” Noah barked back.

Asshole.

“Why the fuck not? You said it yourself hotshot. You. Need. Me” I snapped back. Punctuating my words with a sharp poke to his hard, muscular chest.

“Get fucked princess. You work for me now.”

“No. I don’t. We work together now. Don’t get all patriarchal just because you’re the leader of your crew. I bow to nobody.” I angrily replied, “And stop calling me princess cocksucker.”

“In your dreams princess.” Noah snarkily replied. “Sure. Try and get us to play by your rules. The others won’t agree to that. They won’t roll over to a short-ass dictator rolling in and fucking things up.”

“Fine. We work together. But don’t think I like this asshat. I’m only doing this because I need the credits.” I gave in.

“Brilliant! Here is your contract. You will be paid a small portion of the one million each following each part of the mission. That way we don’t lose any money if you guys short circuit while you’re on the job.” Karius beamed.

Both Noah and I signed the contract next to our names at the bottom of the paper. Suddenly, I was aware of five other men standing behind us. Turning around, I realised that these were the other members of OMNS. I recognised three of them as being Folio, Jolly and Nick, but the other two I had never seen before. Both had long hair, one must longer than the other, and wore what looked to be baseball caps on their heads. They must be new to OMNS I thought to myself.

I had never been this close to them before. All six men were absolutely beautiful. The world is so cruel. God I hated insufferably attractive men. They all had tattoos covering their bodies, but Noah very clearly had the most. His throat tattoo always prominent against his pale skin.

The shortest man, Folio, I now came to realise has new optics fitted. One remained as his green x-ray upgrade, but the other now glowed a vibrant blue colour. Holy shit. He had somehow managed to get his filthy hands on a tracker upgrade. Holy fuck. Now he can see people through walls and lay a target on them so he, and the others, can easily kill them. Fucking asshole. The amount of people he would have had to kill for that implant would have been insane.

A man with a goatee and long brown hair stood next to him. Jolly was significantly taller than Folio, but did not stand quite as tall as Noah did. Jolly was muscular too, but this was largely because of the sheer amount of upgrades he had put into his body. It looked like he had spent his credits on body-mod upgrades focusing on force and strength as opposed to Folio’s more techy upgrades. Jolly was practically impenetrable with his implants making him bulletproof all over, except for his head. Those implants were risky. Anything impacting your nervous system was bound to make you go full cyberpsycho. The leader of my old crew fucked with a gnarly sandevistan implant but it… well..

The third man was smaller. He blended in seamlessly with the scene around him. Nick was rumoured to be one of the best netrunners in the Concrete Jungle. He could hack anything. His eyes glowed a soft purple hue due to his optic upgrades. They looked fucking sick. His long, dark hair was pulled back into a bun on the top of his head, letting his amazing bone-structure be on full display. He wore a long, black trench coat that made him blend into the darkness around him perfectly.

The men didn’t bother to introduce themselves to me as they signed the contract. After signing, they all made their way to a booth in the back where they must have been sitting. Noah stayed behind with myself and Karius. Presumably to gloat or something. I snuck a glance at the tattoos that covered his muscular arms. His black tank top hid the tattoos on his chest and back.

“Like what you see princess?” Noah laughed.

“huh?” I spluttered out.

“So you weren’t just staring at my arms?” Noah mocked sarcastically.

“Of course not asshole.” I barked back

“Sure. I believe you.” Noah said with a smirk across his face. His stupidly attractive face.

“Well I see this is off to a great start.” Karius sighed as he got up to leave Poppy’s. “Oh and V! You will be staying with the OMNS guys until this job is done. Just to ensure neither of you steal this job from each other.”

Pure outrage coursed through my veins as the realisation of what K just announced pounded in my brain.

“Fucking excuse me?” I screamed.

“You heard me V. I know what you’re like.” Karius called back over his shoulder as he walked through the front door of Poppy’s.

I face-planted onto the bar and wrapped my arms over my face. The last thing I wanted was to be in close quarters with these men. Especially Noah. My lifestyle revolved around me being alone. That’s how I work. No attachments. They only hurt you. I found that out the hard way. If I stay with the OMNS crew for the entire job, then that would be for months. I would probably lose my apartment and have nowhere to go. Fucking Karius.

“Come and meet the guys princess.” Noah commanded once Karius had left.

“Fine.” I mumbled. I was really getting sick of him calling me that. But then why did I feel all warm inside when he said it?

Walking over to the table in the corner, I began to have second thoughts about what I was doing. I was the only girl here in a group full of some of the most dangerous men in the Concrete Jungle. Was this really a good idea? Probably not.

They all spoke quietly to each other. No doubt complaining about having to work with me. As Noah and I approached the table, the conversation stopped as Folio and one of the guys I didn’t recognise shuffled up the bench to make room for Noah to sit. On the other side Jolly, Nick and the other unnamed man shuffled and made room for me. At least they were considerate enough to do that for me.

“Guys this is Vania. As you know, she used to run with Davis’s crew. She will be running with us on this job.” Noah introduced.

A chorus of “hey” and “Hi” echoed around the dark booth.

“Jolly, Nick, Folio and myself you already know. But you haven’t met Matt and Bryan yet.” Noah gestured to the two unnamed men. “Bryan is our wheels and Matt is in charge of seeing how logistical and plausible plans are to execute.” The two men raised their hands in a wave to me. I weakly smiled back. I wasn’t about to make friends with these people.

It turned out that the rest of the OMNS crew were actually tolerable and that it was just Noah who was a colossal pain in my ass. We all talked for about an hour, retelling stories from other jobs we had worked on, but that just became a pissing contest between myself and Noah as we continually tried to outdo each other, recounting jobs we had stolen from each other. I was starting to grow tired of his bullshit and wanted nothing more than to close my eyes and go to sleep in my bed.

“So what’s the plan then?” I asked. “Do you assholes have a secret lair somewhere that you’re going to take me to after you’ve kidnapped me?”

“Look, I get that you don’t want to work with us, but you don’t gave to be a bitch about it.” Noah sighed.

“I just want to get this over with so I can get my credits and move on.” I snapped in reply.

“And so do we. It’s not like we exactly want to hang with you.” Noah basically shouted back.

“I see that manners aren’t something you get taught on the pig farm? Is that right, pig?” I barked.

“Doubt you would know since a princess like you never wants to get her hands dirty.” He smirked. God he was cocky.

“You wouldn’t know how to do a job discreetly even if it was worth a trillion credits asshat. You make too much mess.” I chuckled back.

“What because I like to make sure a job is done right and there are no witnesses left? Because I’m thorough with my work?” He fought.

“No because you like to leave a trail so people fear you. It’s pathetic.” I laughed.

“You’re inability to work with other people is pathetic princess.” Noah stated simply.

He knew he struck a nerve. He always knew when he struck a nerve. Yet he always pushed it. Luckily I didn’t have enough time to launch myself over the table to claw his eyes out like I really fucking wanted to as Nick intervened, “Alright guys. Lets motor.”

“Alright guys. Lets motor.” Nick intervened.

“Agreed.” Noah bluntly stated without breaking eye contact with me.

The walk to the cars outside was silent as everyone got into their respective vehicles. Folio rode a bike similar to mine. But whilst mine was pink and black, his was completely black in colour with red LEDs on the sides. Pretty sick to be honest. Jolly rode in a large black SUV with blackout windows that appeared to be bullet proof. Nick rode with Matt and Bryan in a large metal-framed armoured SUV that looked similar to Jolly’s but had clearly been modified. Noah’s car was much more understated. He opened the door to a low black car with tinted windows. It was very sleek and almost flat looking. God he was so annoyingly flashy.

I trailed behind the others on the way to their base. The neon glow of the Concrete Jungle embraced me with opened arms as it sat below the star-filled night sky. The skyscrapers belonging to suit corporations painted the skyline in a halo of varying colours as each fought for your attention. This was always my favourite parts of jobs. The silent ride home. The quiet. The peace. It was the only time I was ever separated from the crime-filled life I lead.

Right in the centre of all the chaos in the Concrete Jungle stood a tomato red skyscraper that belonged to ERRA. They were absolutely untouchable here. They were the fucking kings. The red glow always held your stare. It felt like the building itself was watching you. ERRA had that kind of effect on people. You always feel watched while they are around.

This neon landscape has been my home my whole life. I don’t remember a life without knowing the inner-workings of this place inside and out. My dad had never been around and my mother died about seven years ago in an accident. The circumstances surrounding her death had always been suspicious, but I never questioned it. It wasn’t like she was ever a good mother to me. Shortly after that I met Davis, a fellow orphan who was also struggling to pay rent. From there we met Lana and Steven and they welcomed us with open arms into their crew and the rest was history.

Now I ride solo.

A loud bang echoed over the sound of the traffic around us. The armoured car Nick, Matt and Bryan were in veered off course and into the next lane as it looked like they were trying to swerve out of the way of something. Suddenly, gunfire ripped through the night.

Noah, Jolly and Folio all pulled in behind the armoured car so I followed suit. A large grey truck with ERRA painted along its side in their trademark tomato red colour, was coming straight towards us with a man in a helmet hanging out of the window shooting at us from his weaponed arm implants.

Noah got out from the passenger side of his car with a large assault rifle and began opening fire on the oncoming vehicle. The rest of OMNS followed his lead. I, however, didn’t have my gun on me so I wouldn’t be much use to them. Instead I got back on my bike and rode past them, planning on assessing the threat from a further distance and hopefully finding a weak spot.

“Where the fuck are you going!” Noah called out after me. But I ignored him. I wasn’t used to have to explain myself mid-combat.

The truck had stopped opposite the parked convoy, about thirty feet between both crews, and three men had exited the truck and were all firing at the OMNS guys. A hatch opened up on the roof and a turret was raised. Gunfire rained down all around me as I tried my best to dodge other cars and bullets.

Screams and yells from other cars both directed at me and the carnage happening further back echoed in the chaos. Bullets whizzed through the air after me. Some hitting the other people in cars and some lodging into the road beneath me.

“Fuck!” Matt exclaimed as he and Bryan lowered themselves back into the armoured car.

Nick was sat in the back of the armoured car trying desperately to hack into the turret to disable it, but was appearing to have no luck. This didn’t surprise me as ERRA had recently upgraded all of their security measures. I had found that out the hard way earlier in the night as a mine nearly blew me to shreds when I was sneaking into the back of the warehouse.

Fuck, I thought to myself, meant that they knew that I had broken into the warehouse and stole the chip. So I was basically fucked.

Jolly disappeared back into his SUV for a second but reappeared with a massive shotgun attached to his arm and had started firing at the men operating the turret, successfully taking out two of them, leaving only one on the turret and three remaining on the ground, as well as the driver and the man in the passenger seat.

I dismounted my bike and ran round the back of the truck. Using my Lynx Paws upgrade, I easily jumped up onto the roof of the truck without making a sound. I swiftly engaged my mantis blades and took out the final man operating the turret with a quick slash. He crumbled to his knees as blood trickled out of the side of his mouth. His bottom half fell to the floor below the truck as his top half remained on the roof next to the now unused turret.

Meanwhile, Noah had taken out two of the men on the ground and Jolly had made quick work of the third man.

The man in the passenger side would be more difficult to take out. And besides, he had noticed my presence on the roof when half of his crewmate’s body fell to the ground and had started firing up into the roof. This however, left him undefended on his side and allowed me to swing down and slash open his throat. The driver made to grab me, when suddenly, a gunshot rang out as he slumped forward. Blood trickled from a bullet hole in his forehead.

Silence fell over the group as we surveyed the damage surrounding us.

Three innocent bystanders had been killed in the gunfire. Blood coated the road. Following the trail with my eyes, I noticed that there was a puddle of blood below Folio’s bike but no sign of Folio. Fuck. If he had been killed it would be my fault. This job was going to be absolute hell.

I ran over to his bike and saw that he was knelt on the ground clutching his side and taking short and rapid breaths. He had been hit but wasn’t dead… yet. Thank fuck.

“Let me see.” I stated, touching his shaking shoulder gently.

“Fuck you.” She spat shakily.

“Folio, let me help.” I pleaded.

He cautiously moved his hand and blood trickled to the floor. It looked like the bullet was still inside.

“I can help him if we get him to your hideout quickly.” I gushed to Noah who was looking at me with eyes filled with utter hatred.

“you won’t lay a damn finger on him.” He snarled.

“Do you want him to die, Noah?” I challenged. “Because if I don’t help him, he will die. And I can guarantee that it will be very slow and very painful.”

A pause.

“Or I can guarantee you that he will live happily ever after and will get to see another day if you let me help him.” I attempted to persuade him with an exasperated sigh.

“Fine but we need to load his bike into Matt and Bryan’s car or Folio will never forgive us if we leave it here.” Noah caved with an exasperated sigh.

Upon arriving at the OMNS hideout, a large steel screen door opened to let the seven of us into the building. It wasn’t anything special. It looked like a car garage that was attached to a tattoo shop. It wasn’t where I pictured OMNS operating out of. I’d always thought of it as more similar to ERRA’s layout. I should have known OMNS wasn’t the skyscraper type seeing as they already had two of them in their crew in the forms of Jolly and Noah.

The garage was large. They easily had enough space for their own vehicles and about five others. Drawers and shelves lined each of the walls, which were all painted a deep purple colour. The neon lights that illuminated the room cast a blue hue over everything.

Matt and Bryan hauled Folio out of the back of the armoured car as Jolly cleared off one of the workbenches to use as a makeshift bed for him. Noah stomped straight through the smaller door in the right hand wall, slamming it behind him, as soon as he got out of his car. Asshole.

Nick followed after him after muttering something to the rest of OMNS quiet enough so that I wouldn’t be able to hear their conversation.

Folio groaned and writhed around on the table in pain. I began cutting away his black t-shirt in order to inspect the wound. It was a clean shot. No tearing. Lucky for him. However, the bullet had not gone through all of the way and had appeared to be lodged in between two of his ribs. I would need to cut the wound wider in order to gain enough access to remove the bullet. Less lucky for him.

“Do you guys have anything that will nock him out for a few hours?” I asked Matt, Bryan and Jolly who had all hung around to keep an eye on myself and Folio.

“We only have immune-suppressors here. But I can go see if Nick and Noah have some?” Matt replied.

“Be quick. I think it goes without saying that your boy here is in a fuck tonne of pain.” I said.

With that, Matt jogged out of the door Nick and Noah had left through. About five minutes passed when the door slammed back open and a frustrated looking Noah barged back through with a brown paper bag.

“Here. This should nock him out.” He snarled at me, “Get it yourself next time princess. I don’t work for you. And neither do my guys.” He then turned back around and left through the door he came through.

Rolling my eyes at him, I got to work with giving the meds to Folio who was still writing in pain.

The meds helped tremendously and I was able to remove the bullet from Folio with little to no fuss at all. It was easy without lord asshat, Noah, breathing down my neck or generally pissing me off.

After stitching Folio’s side back up, Matt, Bryan and Jolly moved him into his room so he would be comfortable.

I was then brought into their home. I was greeted with a large, open-plan room that contained a kitchen with a large island that extended for most of the back wall and had enough stools surrounding the breakfast bar side of it for a small army. On the opposite wall was a living area with what appeared to be a one-way window that wrapped around the outer wall of the room. Impressive. Expensive.

The door on the right hand wall slammed open and Noah stormed through. A scowl etched across his face in replacement of his signature smirk. The glare he sent me bore holes into my skull.

“What the fuck was that!” He yelled while stomping towards me with his finger pointed at me accusingly.

“Huh?” I replied.

“Don’t fucking play dumb with me princess. Back there. On the road. You bailed. Who the fuck does that!” He argued back.

“I didn’t bail. If you remember correctly. That is if you didn’t hit your fucking head you delusional asshole. I came back and killed the people you fucking couldn’t.” I retaliated furiously.

Noah started laughing. Fucking laughing.

“No princess. You pussied out and came back when the fight was easier.” Noah chuckled menacingly.

“Go fuck yourself!” I screamed back at him.

“You are one of us now. Whether you like it or not. We protect each other. That’s the deal.” Noah snarled. Getting right in my face. “And you. Fucking. Bailed.” He punctuated with a poke to my chest.

“I wouldn’t have had to do that if your fucking scout had done his fucking job.” I snarled back at him.

“Yeah? You mean our scout who is currently upstairs out cold because you fucking bailed and he got fucking shot? That scout?” He whispered menacingly.

“I didn’t bail. I covered the back Noah.” I said in response.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night princess.” He replied without breaking eye contact.

Silence fell between us as my eye flickered from his brown eyes to his lips that were incredibly close to my own. I could see Noah’s eyes doing the same.

“Now I see why you ride solo. Selfish bitch.” He muttered as he backed away from me.

“The fuck did you just say to me asshole?” I screamed as I followed him.

“You heard me princess.” He replied with a grin across his face.

“I don’t think I did because you would have to be a complete fucking moron to say what you just said.” I yelled at him.

“I think we both know who the moron here is princess.” Noah growled back at me.

“Go. Fuck. Yourself.” I snarled in reply.

“All I’m saying is that it’s no wonder you ride solo because who the fuck in their right minds would want to be in a crew with a selfish, backstabbing bitch like you.” Noah Growled with a smirk on his gorgeous face.

Before I had time to slap his stupid face, an incoming call tore through the silence that lingered after his statement.

Chapter 2 Anything > Human Masterlist Main Masterlist

#noah sebastian #bad omens #fanfic #cyberpunk #noah sebastian fic #au #bad omens au #angst #enemies to lovers

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fatuismooches · 1 year ago

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Helloo Smooches!!

I had an idea about mixing in two ideas - childhood friend + fragile!reader with Pantalone (let's not let Dottore steal all the spotlight)

Basically, bc of living in poverty reader is very weak and Pantalone concludes you'll be dead any day soon. But despite everything Reader keeps pushing through and he's intrigued. Not only you somehow keep living, you're so nice and try to help others around you any way you can, including Pantalone. I think after becoming friends he advices you to care more about yourself, seeing your frail condition

At one point your condition becomes worse and you need medicine which is already expensive, but for you? You can only get it if you work 24/7, but you physically can't. However, miraculously, you get that medicine. After some time you learn that it was Pantalone who worked all day and night for you and reader can't thank him enough. You may learn he didn't eat for a few days and worked in ungodly conditions just to save you. Reader feels very guilty about all of this, but Pantalone reassures them that it's better than you dying. And it's so strange, even for Panta himself. Like, there are tons of kids who are in the same condition as you or even worse, then why he's so keen to save you?

The rest is history. You two become inseparable, helping each other get through life (no one of you mentions it, but Pantalone works harder and more than you, due to your illness).

When he becomes the Regrator, you're still together. But now he can properly take care of both of you, since you were damaged pretty badly by your childhood. But if Pantalone's immune system got very strong and he only really has bad eyesight, then you... It's not a pretty scene, but he can keep you in stable state thanks to all the expensive doctors, medicine and anything you need for your comfort. I also feel both of you get flashbacks and nightmares about past, so both of you are here to comfort each other

However, if you did die before seeing Regrator in all his glory... He's devastated. He makes sure your grave stays in top-notch condition. Pantalone is grateful for the time you were with him, when Reader became a little ray on sunshine in his dark life, but won't deny he wants you back. However, even endless wealth can't bring reader back. But at least now Pantalone knows for sure he won't lose anything close to him due to lack of mora ever again

-🥀, who went insane

DOTTORE STEALING THE SPOTLIGHT IS SOOO TRUE IM SO SORRY 😭😭💀 and UGHHH THIS IS FEEDING MY PANTALONE BRAINROT SO GOOD, 🥀 ANON ILY ❤️❤️❤️

Pantalone just not caring about you in the beginning is unfortunately true at first 😭 He is well aware that it is a dog-eat-dog world out there, especially in the environment where you two are. Everyone is out for themselves, no one will look out for each other lest they get stabbed in the back eventually. The young boy has seen more death and suffering than a child of his age should, and he thinks that soon, you will become one of them... but you don't. And despite your ailing condition you still find it in you to help others and the younger kids... he thinks you are simultaneously the strangest, kindest, and dumbest person he's ever met. How could you be so kind in a world like this? You've surely seen the same things he has... you should be putting yourself first, you're squandering what life and health you have left on random people!

He just doesn't understand... he doesn't seek to figure you out first, but you are the only kid his age around these parts, and you do always try to hang around him... so he relents. He becomes your friend. And he... comes to like you. To care for you. The boy has never felt that to someone else before. It makes him act different around you. To go to certain extents he would never dream of doing for anyone but himself. To get little trinkets for you, that really aren't worth anything at all, but he likes how they make you smile. To share bits of his meager rations with you, to which you always giggle and ask if you could feed him. It's strange, even stranger when he goes beyond that. Did your medicine deal a significant blow to his savings? Yes. Did he care? No. Seeing you smiling seemed to satisfy some hole in his chest that has been empty since birth. Pantalone can't help but want you to stay by his side. And you do too.

Ugh yes he would treat you higher than royalty like you deserve after how much you suffered with him for all of those years. I imagine he would be so overprotective and concerned for you, if you had even the most minor health scare he would be more worried than YOU. Regardless you bet he will fulfill every single wish you had since childhood, nothing is off the table, Pantalone WILL make it happy. Yup I imagine Pantalone sometimes has nightmares about losing everything he built his way up to and going back to the poor boy alone on the streets... and you have your own trauma from your condition so just :( lots of nighttime cuddles and soft back rubs

🥀 ANON YOU JUST HAD TO END IT WITH ANGST... To say he would be crushed is an understatement. Part of his motivation and reason to ascend to the top was to be able to give you the life you deserve - a comforting, peaceful, and rich one. But you were gone... he was so, so close to saving you. He still loves you so much. And although he has the Mora to never lose anything close to him again... will there really be anything like that for him ever again after he lost you?

#smooches talks #🥀 anon #fragile reader <3 #pantalone love notes <3 #i have been brainrotting over pantalone's real name lately 😭#GODDDD I WANT TO KNOW SO BAD #the amount of fluff id pull if I knew his real name #wooo i think i wrote alot but pantalone + childhood friend is truly something i adore

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givemea-dam-break · 2 years ago

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a/n: part two for this request - "may i request a fem reader x anthony lockwood where reader is a super talented fittes agent who constantly trades barbs with lockwood but he soon realises she fancies him so he ends up teasing her during missions by doing small stuff like pulling her close and calling her babe when no one is around - since quite a few of you wanted one! if you want to find it on my masterlist, it's called Love, simply because I'm terrible at naming my fanfics lmao. i hope you enjoy!

warnings: mentions of death/suicide (very vague), language female reader taglist: @cassiopeiia24 @nessa-stark @galactidiot @randomfanficreader @tom-foolery-time

part 1

Loneliness. Terrible, suffocating loneliness. It's thick and cloying and it's getting harder to breathe. God, your throat is closing up and your lungs hurt, weighed down by this strong sense of isolation and abandonment. How are you meant to function when it's so powerful, so heartbreaking? It's overtaking your heart, filling your lungs, intoxicating your blood.

With a feeling like whiplash, you're torn from your vision, and your hand is tugged away from the tree branch and placed on someone's chest. You can feel someone's heartbeat, steady and reassuring, and your own slows. Breathing is a little easier now.

"You're okay, love. I'm here."

The voice shakes you out of your daze, and your eyes snap open, only to be met with the face of Anthony Lockwood.

The setting sun is working wonders on him. Gold and orange rays of light fight for dominance on those high cheekbones and the tip of his nose. His dark eyes swirl with hues of copper and caramel. His lips, turned down slightly with worry, hide the possibility of a bright smile as you look at him.

"Don't -"

"Call you that," he finishes. "Yes, I know. You realise that the more you tell me not to, the more I will."

You scowl at him, but you don't move. A month ago, you would've pulled out of his grip and away from him within a second but, now, you can't bring yourself to.

He knows this all too well, and he revels in it. More often now does he find some excuse to have you touch him. Oh, (name), pass me some salt bombs, won't you? Followed by a not-so-subtle brush of fingers. Do I have lavender in my hair? Get it out, please, the scent becomes too strong sometimes. And there's usually no way for you to get out of shaking it out of his hair because he often puts your hand there himself. Let me walk you home. Then he'll drape an arm over your shoulders, keeping you close or safe as he calls it.

Maybe you've bolstered this attitude of his because more often than not, you don't object. Yes, you'll call him an idiot or a twat or something more insulting, but you've come to welcome these touches, however fleeting they may or may not be.

So, now, with your fingers splayed over his white shirt, it's almost as if you can't bring yourself to move. It doesn't seem like Lockwood is particularly fussed about moving, either.

"What did you see?" he asks, eyeing you carefully. "Something seemed different."

Despite your team's displeasure about paired up so frequently with Lockwood and Co for certain cases by DEPRAC, you haven't been too bothered by it. You and Lockwood have begun working like a team, figuring out each other's tells and habits while still throwing insults and remarks back and forwards. He's become used to watching you use Touch to figure out where sources are, learning how your body reacts in accordance to different things.

You don't want to tell him that this particular vision fed into your own feelings, so instead you say, "It was just stronger than usual. We're close. Very close."

At last, his hand releases yours, and he places his hands on his hips, staring up at the towering tree before you. Members from both of your teams linger around the whole park, scouting out for any clues as to where the source is, seemingly with no luck. The reason for that is likely the pairings. Lucy and Kat and Ned, George and Bobby and Kipps. None of them are getting on particularly well.

"You think it's the branch itself?"

"I'm not sure." You flash your torchlight on the thick branch. "This guy, well, you know... His body was found here after days of just..."

"Hanging there."

"Thank you for that input. But yes. It would make sense. The rope had to be cut off because it was tied so tight. And the emotions were extremely strong, so it would be my best bet."

"Well, whatever you say, love."

You purse your lips. "You're insufferable."

"You love that about me."

Fighting down the urge to strangle him, you pull your silver net out of your belt. "I say we place the net over the branch, see if the ghost still appears. If it does, well, we're fucked, to put it simply. I'll be completely clueless. But, if it doesn't, then we can secure it in place overnight and get someone to remove the branch in the morning."

"Aye, aye, captain."

"Shut up."

Lockwood grins at you then, so bright and dazzling that for a moment you're frozen.

Maybe it affects you the way it does because it's something you've lacked for years. You can't remember the last time someone smiled at you with such joy before Lockwood, as if you've done something to deserve it.

Gently, he takes the silver net from your hands and swings out over the branch before stepping back and looking at it like he's just finished some incredible piece of art. You roll your eyes, glancing back at your teams again.

"I think Barnes pairs us up on purpose," you say. "He knows we don't all get on."

"We get on tremendously," Lockwood remarks. "We went from you insulting my clothes and face, and me making fun of your moods, to being the best of friends."

Frowning, you say, "I wouldn't say 'the best of friends'. I tolerate you, Lockwood. And your face and fashion haven't improved over this last month, I hope you know. I mean, come on, grey tie and pink socks? It's like you're taking inspiration from some raw salmon. Do I have to buy you some socks for your Christmas?"

He nudges your shoulder with his. "You hear yourself? You're on about getting me a Christmas present!"

His fingers brush yours then, and you almost jump from the contact. His hand is warm against the back of yours, and your fingers twitch slightly with the urge to entwine with his, even if part of you is telling you not to do it.

With a jolt, you step away. "Let's wait for this ghost. I'll let the others know about the plan."

There's something in his eyes, an unfamiliar spark within their darkness, that sends heat to your cheeks and a flutter in your stomach. But you turn away, adamant that you won't fall for his charm or whatever this is. You won't. Maybe.

"Oh, I've been looking for that!"

You turn as you throw a bag of pasta into your shopping basket, stopping short when you see Lockwood standing on the opposite side of the aisle. He's dressed in his usual shirt-trousers-ridiculously-long-jacket get-up, grinning with a basket hooked over his arm. For a minute, you're confused about what he means, and then you realise which hoodie you're wearing. His grey one.

In your defence, you thought you had picked up your grey Fittes one and had been a little confused by the length of it on you, but now you realise that it is not yours at all but the one he gave you a month ago. The one you keep forgetting to give him.

"Oh, yes. Um, I'll get it back to you soon."

He laughs and says, "You've told me that for weeks now. You might as well keep it now, love."

You glance down at the hoodie, fingers fiddling with the old hem. "I'll get it back to you."

"Whatever you say."

His smile is blinding, and you find yourself smiling, too. It's only a little tug at the corner of your lips, but you can see the happiness in his eyes at the sight of it. It makes something in your chest feel warm and proud and loved.

Loved. The word sends sparks down your spine. When was the last time you felt like that?

"Well, I have to get going," Lockwood says, gesturing to his basket. "George is getting tetchy and we have almost no food left in the house. I'm worried I'll get home and the house will have been destroyed in his rage."

You snort. "Kipps is the same at the Fittes offices. I try and steer clear of him when he's in a mood. He's worse than me."

"Worse than you? Sorry, love, but that's hard to believe."

"Oh, be quiet." You give him a look, and humour glints in his eyes. "I was going to offer to give you warnings of when he's particularly irritated, but I won't, now. You can just suffer."

"You have to admit," he says, "that Kipps is awfully funny when he's mad. He goes red as a tomato."

"He does."

Lockwood's smile softens to something more private, and your heart skips a beat. You want to curse at yourself. It's been a month of spending more cases together, of him walking you home late at night or catching you unawares, and already you feel differently about him. Once, you saw him as nothing more but an arrogant boy whom you couldn't stand, whose very presence had you on edge. Although you enjoyed taking the mick out of him and riling him up, you wanted to keep your interactions to a minimum.

But now?

God, you're not sure what changed. Maybe it's the way he smiles at you like he's proud of you for everything you've done and gone through, and so endlessly happy with you for simply existing. Maybe it's the gentle touches of reassurance and how he has somehow come to know your tells of nervousness or apprehension. Maybe it's how he's come to know you so well, well enough to slip little snacks you like into your kitbag for you to find on later cases when it's just you and your Fittes team.

Even now, you can spot your favourite biscuits in his basket - biscuits you're aware nobody in his house likes.

"I'll see you around," Lockwood says with his enchanting smile.

It brings out a slightly bigger smile from you. "See you, Lockwood."

As he brushes past you, his fingers twitch as if to latch onto yours, and he says, "Call me Anthony from now on, love."

"All right," you murmur. "Anthony."

"I'm going to kill you one day."

Lockwood breathes a laugh, peering around the corner of the street. "Who would provide you such amazing entertainment if not for me?"

You draw your rapier. "Anyone. Quite literally anyone. You know, there's this thing called salt, and Kat puts it in Bobby's coffee when he's not looking sometimes. However, now is really not the time for that. Are those Rawbones still looking for us?"

"No."

"Oh, good."

"Well, not really. They've found us."

A horrible wail pierces your ears, one that Lockwood can't hear, and you flinch, glancing past him and to the ghosts that are leering at you. Rawbones, terrible variations of Wraiths, with no skin and bulging eyes. The sound of their teeth grinding sets the hairs on your arms on end., and the glare you send his way is scathing.

"I told you we should've just left!"

"Nonsense." Lockwood's rapier is moving fluidly in front of him, keeping the Visitors at bay. "You're the best agent I know besides myself. We can handle these."

Scowling, you throw a salt bomb at each of the two Rawbones. "Just because we can, doesn't mean we should. We've no way of finding a source!"

"Hey, think about it. If these guys kill us, then at least you won't have had to get your hands dirty killing me. Either way, we can dispatch them easily."

You glower at him and throw another salt bomb, watching the flakes disintegrate parts of the other-light and speckle the ground. "Who would even want to haunt a street with a greasy chippy and stinking public toilets?"

He grins as he looks back at you. "Maybe they were particularly fond of the chippy. Can't beat fish and chips on a Friday night. Are you a mushy peas or gravy kind of girl?"

"At the moment, neither!"

One of the Rawbones takes its chance with his peas-or-gravy distraction and launches towards Lockwood, but it never gets the chance. With all your force, you shove him out of the way, and you both slam into the wall. A harsh chill overtakes you, and you're dimly aware of a tingling pain in your arm, but you ignore it, throwing another salt bomb.

Lockwood takes up holding them back with his rapier, and it's then that you notice your jumper's sleeve steaming, a section of it burned away by ectoplasm. You hadn't been expecting to be out so late and for so long, so you didn't think to bring your thick jacket with you. Regretting your decision, you stare as the skin of your arm starts turning blue.

"Anthony?"

"Mm?" He doesn't look away from the ghosts.

"We - we have an issue."

"Do we? I think we're handling this quite well. My shoulder hurts from slamming into a brick wall, but -"

"Anthony!"

He glances back at you, his eyes immediately drawn to your burned and smoking sleeve, and the blue, swelling skin beneath. He pales momentarily, gritting his teeth, and something overtakes his expression. Anger. But not at you.

"Cover your ears and get back behind that bin over there."

"You can't be serious. It's surrounded by mouldy bananas and -"

"Go!"

The urgency in his voice has you moving before you even realise it. Ducked behind the big bin a few feet away, you peer around it and try to block out the horrible smell. Lockwood is still holding off the pair of Rawbones, but he's holding something in his free hand. It's only when he's running over to you to take cover that it was a magnesium flare.

An explosion shakes the ground, and although you had covered your ears, they still ring loudly. You can't hear what Lockwood is saying, but he drags you away by your good arm and down the street in the opposite direction from the ghosts. They're not gone permanently, but the flare has given you enough time to make your escape.

It's only when you're a few streets away that you both stop to catch your breaths beside an old phone box. You're struggling, feeling as though you're trying to breathe through a single straw, and your skin feels weird. Overly aware of the inner workings beneath it.

"Anthony," you repeat, but your voice isn't as strong.

Your legs are shaking, and you can't feel your arm anymore. You can faintly hear him speaking in the phone box, asking for an ambulance, and then he's in front of you, catching you as you stumble against a shop wall and to your knees. He tears the sleeve off your jumper, preventing any more ectoplasm from getting on your arm. Not that it would make a difference. It's already getting worse.

"You'll be all right, love," he promises, holding you close to his chest as you shiver. "An ambulance is coming. They'll be here soon."

You don't have the energy to speak, but you manage a small nod.

"They'll give you an adrenaline shot, and you'll be fine. You can get right back to insulting me."

His shirt is warm beneath your hand as you grip it weakly. It's a strange sensation feeling your organs slowly stop working. Already, your pulse sounds weaker in your ears.

"Hey, stay with me."

Your eyes find his and, for a moment, everything's all right. They're warm and soft and so, so comforting, and he's giving you that private smile he's taken to sharing with you. His cheeks are rosy, and salt is dusted in his hair like snow. Your lips tug in a meagre attempt at a smile.

"You're an asshat," you manage. "We should've gone the way I said."

He breathes a laugh. "Yeah, we should've."

His hand brushes hair from your eyes, lingering on your cheek for a moment, and you lean into the touch, relishing in the feeling of his pulse against your skin. If you don't think too hard, you can pretend it's yours and that your organs aren't on shutdown.

"Hey, look," Lockwood says gently. "See the lights, love? Ambulance is here to help you. You'll get that adrenaline and you'll be fine."

And you know you will be. His voice is so genuine that you know he's not just saying it to ease your mind. You've seen agents and civilians with ghost-touch, seen their skin turn blue and swell and their lives slowly drain away when the ambulances took too long to reach them. But you'll be okay. As long as Lockwood stays with you.

Giving Anthony Lockwood your address was the best idea you've ever had.

He knows where you hide your spare key outside of your flat, so he lets himself in as you lounge on your sofa, watching the news on your old TV. For now, you're out of action, your arm still taking time to recover from ghost-touch, though you're all right in most other senses.

Your arm aches still and has taken to staying a faint shade of blue, and sometimes you have the unshakeable fear that you've not been cured of the ghost-touch, but you always come out of it fine.

The one benefit of being on sick leave is that Lockwood stops by every single day without fail with a coffee from your favourite café, along with a fresh packet of your favourite biscuits and a newspaper. You're not big on reading the newspapers, but you figure he brings them simply because his face is appearing in them more and more, and he wants to show off.

"Oh, you're an angel," you murmur as you take the coffee from his hands, taking a long sip of it and sighing contentedly.

He beams at you, scattering the biscuits onto a plate. He does that so you can gradually eat them over the day without having to struggle to pick them out of the packet, but you're sure he knows that you scoff them all the minute he leaves. As soon as you're back out of your flat and working, you're going to have to get back to your morning runs. Maybe the runs can be you running to the shop to buy more...

"I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me," he says, bringing the plate over and setting it on your coffee table. "I'll pretend you've said it because you adore me so and not because I've turned into your slave."

You smile sweetly over the lid of your cup. "You don't have to get me stuff. I've told you this. It's your fault for being a stubborn ass."

He laughs, sitting at the end of the sofa, just beside where your feet are curled up. "And there's the name-calling. Glad to know you're getting better, love. Besides, if I can make life a little easier for you, I may as well. Now you owe me."

"So it's not out of the kindness of your heart, then?" You roll your eyes, taking another sip of coffee. "And I thought we were friends."

Raising an eyebrow, he says, "Just friends?"

For a second, something in your chest constricts and you can't look at him. "I mean, if you really want to say best friends, you can go for it, but I'm not really in the business of -"

"Just shut up and admit you like me already, love. It's agonising watching this play out."

You freeze, mouth slightly opened and eyes wide. Lockwood looks at you with a smug expression, eyes glittering with something - mischief, glee. Swallowing the lump in your throat and closing your mouth, you look away from those dark eyes of his.

Growing up how you did, it's always been hard for you to discern your feelings beyond irritation and anger. The more time you spent with Lockwood, the more things you felt and the more confusing everything became. Finally, you had a friend, someone you could laugh with and explore a part of you that you've never been permitted to. You've found out that you like things you never thought you would, like walking home in the dark, pulled close to someone's side. Shopping with the hopes of seeing the people you know and care for. Reading. Feeling someone's arms around you. Being smiled at in a way that makes you feel warm and mushy inside.

Lockwood has been the one to start the change, to awaken these feelings inside of you. Before him, you were lonely. Horribly so, and your anger was a way for you to mask that. But ever since your time spent together, one particular feeling has always stood out, and you've never been able to understand it.

Love.

You're not really sure what love is, but you know you feel it when he's around. When he grins at you in that special way of his, or when he plays with your fingers on long walks home, trying to figure out what each line and crease means as if he's a palm reader. When he keeps you close to his side and steps in front of you, shielding you from ghosts even though you're more than capable of taking care of yourself.

Love might be the feeling of happiness in your chest when you look at him. It might be the flutter you get in your tummy when his name is spoken, or his skin touches yours.

"I..." You struggle with the words.

But he understands. You know with the way the corners of his lips twitch and his nose crinkles that he understands. You've never been good at communicating verbally, something he's begun to learn.

"I've known for a while," he says. "I'm irresistible, after all."

The humour helps ease the whirlwind in your mind. "You're insufferable."

He leans over, his fingers brushing yours before latching on. You've had this exact conversation before. "You love me for it."

You do. You really do.

So you don't move away when his face nears yours, watching as he slowly comes closer, closer, closer. His eyes are so bright, speckled with so many shades of bronze and copper and gold, and so happy.

No, you do move. You lean forward, and all of a sudden your lips are on his and his hands are pulling your face impossibly closer and you're clutching onto him with your good hand. And you're spiralling, down and down into this feeling people call love, falling onto it like a soft bed you've never had the privilege to sleep in before. There's an ever-so-faint taste of bitter tea on his lips, which are so soft it shouldn't be real.

But it is. It's so, so real, and you're kissing him. He's kissing you. The world melts away. You feel like you're exploding in bursts of colour and flowers and stars until you're nothing more than the air that surrounds you.

And when he pulls away, you smile wider than you ever have before.

#anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x reader #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #george karim #x reader #fanfiction #givemea-dam-break

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gatitties · 2 years ago

Note

Hi! I wanted to ask if you’d consider doing a continuation of “Not in my world” specifically with the kid pirates?

─Kid Pirates x isekaed!student!reader

─Summary: one of many battles where you didn't want to get involved but end up saving the day

─Warnings: none

Part one / Part two

Yeah maybe I have something more for them (it's not because they're my favorite crew… no 😶)

You sighed letting your body settle into the chair, letting the warm rays of the sun give your skin a satisfying tingle, if you ignored the constant threats to your life and a whole ship full of sweaty men of dubious hygiene, you could have this like a vacation in the Caribbean, you know, a post-graduation vacation.

Only you didn't finish your studies and the only thing that seemed like a vacation was that you didn't have homework, exams or schedules to keep an eye on. The rest was just stressful, but at least you had a lot of control with this type of situation, something useful you had learned in all your years as a student and that is to manage and cope with anxiety attacks, a bit sad though.

"We are under attack!"

You closed your eyes biting your inner cheek, the worst thing about being here is that Kid seemed to pick a fight with every pirate he saw, resulting in many attacks towards them, and inevitably towards you, you were a bit calmer since you started training in self defense but that wouldn't make you go on the attack.

"Are you going inside?"

"No, I just go to the bathroom and right away I'll smash someone's head, yeah, of course I'll go inside."

Killer shrugged, you were always hiding inside so he didn't really care about that, neither did the others as they seemed much more focused on the fight, however you would always get a disappointed look from the captain, did you care? No, your life was not made for fighting and if you could avoid it you would.

You spent most of it inside the doctor's room where you thought you would be safe because no one would think to hide any kind of loot here, unluckily one of the enemies was looking for some medical supplies to heal.

You just remained silent looking at each other, you took advantage of the moment of strange silence to grab a chair and throw it at his legs, unfortunately he kicked it to pieces, but you managed to move in time to dodge the sword that flew towards your shoulder.

You muttered a lot of curses while dodging every possible blow, you got a few cuts but nothing that could kill you, you decided to go outside as it would probably be easier to lose that guy in a crowd, even if it meant going headlong into the lion's den.

Luckily your lack of presence did the job on its own and the guy who started attacking you inside got lost in another battle on his way outside, you sighed in relief, standing on the sidelines as you watched everyone beat each other to near death. You shuddered at the sight of so much violence that you never seemed to adjust to.

A little problem about you in this world is that the whole thing about devil fruits and powers had you fascinated, you could see anyone using their power and your brain would just go off, just looking at how surreal it looks, which happened to you right now as you watched Kid play with metal in the air like it was nothing.

"Watch your surroundings! You can't get distracted in the middle of a battlefield."

Wire used his trident to parry a stray arrow heading straight for your head, you sweated nervously at this, giving the tall man a tight smile who sighed in relief that he had arrived on time. Even though the main four had an eye on you ever since you came dodging that guy, they eventually got used to your weird (for them) pacifist behavior and appreciated the help you sometimes gave them.

"At this pace of life I'm going to go bald…"

You muttered biting your nails, impatient for all this altercation to end once and for all, it was taking longer than usual to finish off those pirates, apparently the enemy's cannons were the biggest problem that no one seemed to be able to take care of.

"Damn… I always have to find the solutions myself."

You ran dodging most of them, reaching the ropes that joined both boats to go towards the opposite, Heat seemed to notice your actions and helped you by removing some men that you couldn't shoot down, the other boat was practically deserted, only the gunners firing, luckily too focused on their task that you were able to knock them unconscious with a blow to the neck.

You had never seen much less work with cannons in your old life but… if before most of the things you touched broke you just have to use your power of stupidity to break this, not even two minutes later you were just trying to understand how turning it on because it didn't have a fuse and you accidentally broke them, job done successfully, being a walking disaster was your greatest achievement in life, at least being clumsy helped you.

The problem was that when you wanted to go back all the enemies seemed defeated and of course going back to their ship to run away after the beating, the ropes were cut and they cornered you on the edge of the rail, your best option would be to jump, maybe with some luckily no sea monster would be found around here although with some corpses and blood in the sea… you weren't so sure.

"Do you trust me?!"

You didn't need to turn your head to know whose voice it was, Kid yelled from afar, without being able to see him you knew he was enjoying your internal struggle about what the hell to do when you seemed to be between a rock and a hard place, you swallowed, breathed deep, you took a step back climbing on the rail and before any of that crew could touch you a single hair your body plunged into the ocean in a dizzying way, if it were another less stressful situation, maybe you would have enjoyed the feeling, but not now that your heart was in your throat.

After your leap of faith (little though it was) you felt a tug at your waist, your body began to move towards Kid's outstretched hand, you quickly connected the dots and understood why they were so insistent that you wear the metal belt you wear now.

"Looks like we're going to have a big celebration today, don't you think?"

Kid released you once he was able to grab you in his arms, smiling cheekily to see how you were completely disheveled, with a completely exhausted look, you gave him the middle finger, getting out of there to your makeshift room, but not before answering him.

"Fuck off, I need a vacation from my vacation to get over this trauma."

"You're just being dramatic."

"Yeah… whatever, don't talk to me for a week, I need peace of mind and a lot of incense."

Killer chuckled quietly as he watched you slam the door shut, the others seemed just as amused by your attitude, deciding to leave you alone as they toasted to you for not chickening out and helping for once in one of their battles, you just hope they don't think that this will happen more often.

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