#I went on a small tirade last night

[spicesprouts]

“I said ‘hi’ to Kenyatta the other night and she looked at me like I was weird”

“She probably has a crush on you”

Tish decides that, hey, if Kenyatta has a crush on her, they should talk about it instead of being weird.

[multiverse-sparkles]

Your kiss is burning to my skin — S. Rogers and B. Barnes.

summary: steve and bucky break up with you to focus on their relationship. at first, you took the breakup hard. then you took it worse.

pairings: steve x reader x bucky, stucky x reader.

warnings: angst, language, mentions of violence, poly.

chapter one

“it has nothing to do with you, doll.” bucky reiterates, tone mellowing into a small hesitant whisper as he sees you flinch at the endearment. “i mean you were wonderful and so lovely; always understanding us, being the pillar for support and providing us, always with positive reinforcements.” steve squeezes his hand as his form of support, as if willing bucky to take strenght from him to continue his words as he stutters.

the tender moment was not missed by your gaze that were intent on the supersoldiers who sat at the sofa infront of you. the parallels already evident; steve and bucky, leaning to eachother for comfort, sitting in one sofa. the only distance in the room were with you and them; sat in the lone one seater, listening with bated breath to their reasons on why they were breaking your heart.

you could guess several other scenarios happening when you returned from the three week mission requiring radio silence; a breakup was not one of them.

you were happy. the last time you saw either of them, you three went on a romantic date followed by a passionate night spent in eachother's loving arms. the next day was a tearful exchange of goodbye's and unwillingness to part; bucky had almost begged to be included, knowing what the mission entailed. steve inteded to be more diplomatic and barter with tony who refused to budge on his stance.

so with a heavy heart, you departed to cold and frigid terrorist base along with natasha and sam, throwing yourself into your duties in order to come home soonest. even with the support and extensive planning aswell as research, it still took a considerable amount of time.

but not enough for a drastic change of heart— or so you thought.

the steely and determined gaze to steve, the way bucky could look at you in the eyes despite shifting in his seat; they were fucking serious. and intent on expressing their disatisfaction with your current arrangement. one that was implicitly expressed as you trek to your floor, and sat you down after an almost hostile welcome.

“this hurts us more than you.” bucky exhales, looking at steve.

“i doubt it.” the first words you spoke amid all these crazy tirade sounded weak, from disuse and the emotions welling up in your throat. “but please, by all means, don't let me interrupt. why now?”

“we have been talking and spending time with eachother.. unconsciously, we thought about... how we missed it when it was just us.”

you flinch. again. in the field you were almost fearless, and not even a flying knife can make you swerve— you'd catch the weapon whizing to the air with precise movements. turns out, words indeed cut deeper.

but all the more of the implication that it had been them first; and the way it sounded, you were an unwelcomed participant into the special connection they shared.

“but this is not to say we don't value you.” steve intones. “we do. you have to know that. you're special in your own way, but bucky and i have something deeper than just flesh.”

you bite your tongue to refrain from lashing out. as a coping mechanism, you entertain the anger for his fucking audacity. letting the rage simmer under the blank farce you currently wear.

“we just hope, we can focus on eachother more.” steve elaborates, tensing the slightest at your emotionless response. to be frank, both men were ready for a fight, for you to scream and be hysterical. but you were surprisingly calm and collected. which made both uneasy.

“we just want to fall inlove again, without worrying about, others.” he refers you as others now. “could be permanent, could be a thought in passing.” bucky says. “the only thing we're certain about is a break.” he evasively looks away.

“i guess what bucky and i are trying to say is that, we want more from eachother, and there are certain deeper connections that we can't sustain in a three-way relationship.” steve informs you.

“i respect that.” you run your clammy hands on your tactical gear, they couldn't wait until you were dressed and atleast fed before shoving flowery words on your throat. “but if you're breaking up with me, say it bluntly; tell me honestly, tell it in words i understand- you were a good lay but it's actually eachother we love.” you enunciate the word slowly, “and don't delude me with kind words, when i know you're going to dangle the very statements you spewed over my head, most likely in days when you're fucked up or too lonely for eachother. i will not be tripped into your bed ever again.”

you despised the words as soon as they left your mouth; the statements only providing to fuel your deepest insecurity. and it was unfair to both of them, you knew it was.

steve and bucky looked visibly wretched by your words, yet you ignore it, telling yourself to get used to not caring about either of them.

“doll”

“darling”

“don't fucking call me that.” you hiss, both men still in their seat. “we're done.” gathering whatever was left of your dignity, you trudge to the doors and out of their lives.

the door closed behind you, your own apartment looking stale as opposed to the home you have built with steve and bucky; you barely stayed here anyways, but kept it for storage reasons. it still had stark's touch, feeling more like a hotel penthouse, appearing cold and detatched.

you slide down against the door weakly, losing the false bravado infront of your ex lovers. as if a child, you hug your knees to your chest, sobbing into it unbashedly.

three years all down the drain. and they talked about it as if it were a skin deep connection, downplaying every single moment; in tenderness, in affection, in tears and the joy.

you didn't lie down with them in their bed as an extension, as a woman that can be tossed in passing.

you didn't hold them gently in your arms, and provided the warmth the world has chosen to keep from them just to be a stranger.

you didn't whisper words of comfort in their ears, in the middle of the night when the nightmares became too much to handle, just to be someone shallow and unimportant in their lives.

most importantly, you didn't love them to be hurt like this.

the pain cuts deep in your heart, like a throbbing wound, one you feel physically; one that leaves you gasping for breath, a hand held above your heart, feeling as if you could die. your chest tight, your throat welling up, you struggle to remain above ground, eyes darting around the room to keep in the moment- fuck, you were having a panic attack.

you despised when that happens. hated the sheer fact that you would allow yourself to be vulnerable when there were things that needed to be done; people that need saving, reports to be made, meetings to attend. you led a remotely chaotic life and the only thing that truly anchored you in here, to the now, turned their backs to you.

they no longer want you.

you swallowed heavily, arms instinctively hugging yourself, eyes squinting in an an attempt at concentration; color, you looked at your surroundings, dizzily naming the grey of your couch, the ivory white lamp, the silver and gold of the chandelier. your forehead was beaded with perspiration, breath coming out in shorts despite your attempts at distracting yourself.

“agent y/n, your blood pressure is fluctuating; your heart rate is abnormal which can cause the brain and other ogans to become oxygen deprived. i concluded a physical scan and deduced your emotional distress," FRIDAY “i'm at liberty to ask if i should call captain rogers and sergeant barnes, as they are—”

“no!” you managed to shout between strangled breaths, patting your chest methodolically hoping whatever it was, seemingly dislodged into your airways be cleared.

“agent y/n, in accordance to the tower's protoccol, i am hardwired to inform your immediate contacts of your current state of distress.” her posh voice inserts. and despite yourself, you groan.

“i'm peachy, fri.” you lean your head back to the door, closing your eyes and focusing on your breathing. slowly, you were able to calm down enough, “it's probably the best time to change those emergency contacts, aswell. while you're at it, remove the captain and sergeant's access to this floor; both physically and even in information.”

“ofcourse, agent y/n. please state your official badge number and code.” when you answer her, FRIDAY appears to repeat your command before doing what was asked.

“i also elected the sensible decision of reinstating agent romanov as your primary emergency contact. that being said, ms. romanov is on the way to your floor.” FRIDAY disappears before you can scold her, which made you truly contemplate wether she was conscious and, in all actuality sensitive to human emotions.

perhaps, she does have an inkling of human relationships and intense emotions, but that was no longer your concern; considering you have a black widow shaped problem coming your way. and natasha romanov was nothing, if not immensely stubborn and perpetually perceptive. you were several times screwed over.

however, as she appeared in your doorway, the waterworks resumed ten times over, and you were sobbing pathetically in the red head's arms, lamenting your broken heart.

you couldn't remember for how long you've stayed immobile in your room, but it had been several days; perhaps a week or two that you cried your heart out, barely consuming meals unless for sustenance. that in itself seemed like a chore for your aching muscle, your tired and weary bones protesting with every single movements.

this morning though... this morning, it was sunny and bright. you'd opened the curtains with much effort, peering into the bustling city; the skyline providing you with displaced warmth. a few years ago, you'd only ever dreamt about being in new york; and you've lived it. becoming an avenger was also a dream you've worked hard in achieving, and here you are, fighting alongside the heroic and brave on normal tuesdays.

should you allow yourself to wither away in a dark room, heart terribly battered and bruised when the world was set for conquering? well, perhaps it would be insensitive to use the c word; cringing to yourself upon the remembrance of several otherplanetary creatures wreaking havoc on your home planet, like it were a free for all.

you enjoyed the warmth of the sun on your skin for a few moments, allowing yourself to finally, breathe. you bask in the first time upon weeks that you thought positively for a change; so wreaked from questioning every single thing wrong about you.

for the first time in many days, you took the longest shower in history, setting the temperature just a touch scalding. you cleaned your room, changed the sheets, and donned yourself in a decent jeans and a t-shirt combo. grabbing your purse, and stuffing your phone, wallet and keys along with you, you departed from your room.

on the way to the garage, you texted both wanda and natasha; who have been at your side with the outmost vigor, crying and cursing both the supersoldiers as you wept from your broken heart.

you: mall and galiani's at the grove? :)

wands: yes!! meet you there <3

natty: otw in my sensible shoes.

you smiled softly, thankful for your friends. it may have spread like wildfire among your colleagues in the tower, and the magic six may have taken sides and pointed fingers; but amongst all the drama, you were glad that you had people to count on.

it may take a while for you to feel like yourself again... but you were willing to make it work.

[camomileapplesyrup]

my father never really behaved like one. he was violent. he beat me and my mother. he cheated on her with hookers every night, and got off on the idea of assaulting them behind my mother's back. after my 4th birthday, he up and left. from then, my childhood with him was meeting a string of women from russia, all claiming to be engaged to him. no one stayed long enough but one woman. who became my stepmother.

we didn't like each other. as a small little girl, who watched her big professor father dancing around in suits all day and then slapping my mom before storming away, i didn't have much faith in my safety with this woman. i saw an evil lady, who was corrupting my father with her evil lady ways, turning him against me to prioritise her son who she brought with her. this illusion dropped one night during an argument that lasted hours.

after hurling an array of expensive china at each other, and slamming all the doors in their big house, my stepmother sat crying in our red armchair, repeatedly murmuring things in russian i wish i would have understood. my father saw me approaching and snarled at me. something along the lines of "don't entertain the attention seeking goose. she is playing the victim." as a young 13 year old girl, the only thing i could conjure up was "well, you hit her, dad. don't you think that's why she's crying?"

whatever happened after that was a blur. he went on a tirade at me, clearly bothered by the correction. he looked like a big, puffed up toad, in my memory. croaking unintelligibly with anger and offence. but, im his daughter after all. i didn't understand a thing, i yelled back at my father, attempting to mimic his emotionless-debate-arguing.

that night i saw my real mother in her.

my real mother, in the same house, who never cowered. never ran away, or cried without a glare. my mother who made sure i saw her slap back. slap back so hard it made my father stagger against the very same doorframe i stood.

amidst my heated conversation with my father, the woman whom i hated so much, called out my name. she looked at me and choked out a sentence i'll never forget. in her thick, russian accent, she said "you are a strong young woman. never cower in front of your dad, or any man who hurts you. thank you."

it was the first and last time she ever complimented me. for the first time, we saw each other for what we truly were. two women victimised by an abusive men, who shrunk into the very thing he wanted to avoid most. two women who respected each other enough, to stand up to him. no matter how far apart our worlds were, in that moment, we became the very core of our beings and forgot everything else.

i'll never forget her defeated voice, and tear stained face. i'll never forget what she gave me that day.

[blackcherryvelvet0909]

Cherry Ink (Ace x GN!Reader)

“This is your fault.” 

“Is not!” The redhead’s protests only feed the fuel of your boiling rage. “I told you you didn’t have to follow me. You got yourself into this!”

“I was trying to make sure you didn’t get your sorry ass in trouble again!” 

“What’re you, my mom?” You desperately wanted to punch that grin clean off his face. “Are you going to make sure I eat my vegetables, too?” 

You decide to ignore him. There was no sense in getting into a fistfight. Right now, your main focus is to figure out where you are. You look up at the green road sign hanging above you. It reads, “Scuttle Str.” Well, that gives you a starting point at least. You then turn to look at the bus schedule posted to the wall of the shaded canopy under the bench you stood in front of. 

“There won’t be another bus for two hours.” 

“That’s not so bad.” Ace leans against the pole holding up the street sign. “We just have to hang out here for a while. When the next bus comes, we’ll ask the driver to take us back to the…the, um…” 

You sigh, trying your best to keep yourself calm. “Sebastian Square. By that time though, everyone will have already gone back to the resort. We’ll just have to go back there,” you narrow your gaze in his direction, “and hope that we don’t have a professor or two waiting to tear our heads off for disappearing.” 

“Oh please,” Ace scoffs with a roll of his eye. “If they’re so worried, they’ll have the police find us. You worry too much.” 

“Yeah, I do.” You cross your arms over your chest, continuing to glare at him. “I worry about us getting in serious trouble for running off. Wait, no, actually, you ran off! I was the one to go after you and try to drag you back to where we were supposed to be!” 

“Hey, I didn’t know the bus would take us here! I thought it was the one that stopped by that huge mall we went to Wednesday.”

You throw your arms in the air in frustration. “Ace Trappola, everyone! Freshman at Night Raven College and he can’t even bother to read!” 

“Since when was the last time you read a bus’ time table?!” 

“When I want to make sure I’m getting on the right bus, dumbass!” 

This is getting you nowhere. Despite the shade, the heat is sweltering and you’re sweating bullets. That little fan in the bus you and Ace disembarked a few minutes ago hadn’t helped at all. On top of that, you’re starving. Professor Crewel said at the beginning of the day that you would all stop to eat at a restaurant centered in Sebastian Square a little past twelve. You pull out your shitty little phone Crowley gave you last winter and, sure enough, it’s past twelve. That small breakfast you had to scarf down because your alarm didn’t go off that morning wasn’t going to hold you forever. 

“Let’s just get out of this heat.” You tuck your phone back into the pocket of your shorts and look around the area. “There’s bound to be somewhere we can sit and hang out till the bus comes.” 

Ace points to a building up a small hill. “What about there? It looks like some lil mom-and-pop place. I’m starving!”

He took the words right out of your mouth. You nod and, without another word, begin the short trek up to the thatched roof shack. 

You thanked whatever higher being there might be that you had some madol on you. It wasn’t much - just enough to buy you a cold drink and a bag of chips. You stepped to the side to allow Ace to place his order; you sat at a small table in the corner of the eatery and waited for him to join you. Your stomach growled as you opened the bag of chips, raising the bag to your open mouth and tilting it up and pouring them in. You chewed the few salty crisps that fell in, sighing through your nose as you swallowed as your stomach began to calm its hungry tirade. Hopefully the chips would last you until you could get some real food. Though a part of you felt guilty for thinking it, you were glad Grim wasn’t here with you - all your money would’ve been spent on him. 

A few minutes later, Ace plops down in the seat across from you. His meal consists of a burger, potato wedges, and a milkshake. You try to avoid ogling the bounty of food, directing your gaze down at your small, near empty bag of chips. You pick your drink up off the table and take a sip, the liquid gloriously wetting your mouth and tongue, staving off your parchness. As you place your drink back on the wooden table, Ace speaks up after swallowing a mouthful of burger. “That’s all you’re gonna eat?”

That pang of embarrassment for your situation wells up in your heart, like it has so many times before. “I’m not that hungry,” you say, avoiding his gaze as you take a potato chip and eat it. From the corner of your eye, you see Ace raise an inquisitive brow. 

“Could have fooled me for the way your stomach was growling earlier.” So, he had heard that. You thought it’d been quiet enough for only you to hear - apparently not. You mentally cursed your gut’s cries for sustenance as you bit into another chip, this time a bit more forcefully. 

“Well, I’m eating, so it shouldn’t do that anymore.” 

Your voice was a bit more snappy than you intended. “Geez, alright!” Ace takes a sip from his milkshake, right after mumbling a quiet, “Don’t have to bite my head off.” 

Soon, your bag of chips is empty. While the cold drink eases your body temperature and quenches your thirst, it does little to satisfy your lingering hunger. You take out your phone to check the time: it’s just a few minutes past one. A little under an hour to go before the bus comes back - another hour without food. Your stomach begins to ache; it’s a subtle pain, but you know it’ll gradually grow as the minutes pass. You desperately try to ignore it, distracting yourself from the smell of scrumptious food by looking out the window and glancing around the eatery. It truly is a nice place, just out of the way of the hustle and bustle of the city, located about a ten minute walk from the coastline. 

Just as you’re fancying a quick swim to further distance yourself from your hunger, someone pokes your arm. “Hey.” You tilt your head to look over at Ace. He’s got a teasing smirk on his punchable face. “Your stomach growling again.” 

You hadn’t even noticed, too lost in your thoughts to hear it. You fold your arms over your stomach and glare out the window. “Probably just indigestion,” you suggest dismissively. 

You feel Ace stare at you for a moment, perhaps coming up with a way to tease you further. Instead, he asks, “You’re still hungry, aren’t you?” 

Despite how much of a shithead he can be, there’s no sense in lying to him. “Yeah,” you reply. “I’m just going to hold out until we get back to the resort.” 

“Um, hello?” Ace gestures about the space with his hand. “We’re at a restaurant? Or whatever you call this? They make food.”

“No shit.” 

“So, go get something else to eat.”

“I’m fine, Ace.” 

“Your stomach says otherwise.” 

“Well, it can shut the fuck up, can’t it?” 

Again, your tone came out sharper than you intended it to. This time, however, Ace didn’t make an offended comment about it. He is quiet, almost too quiet. Suddenly, he gets up from his seat and walks away. Maybe he has to go to the bathroom? That, or he doesn’t want to get kicked out by starting an argument with you. That’d be surprisingly smart of him, you think. 

You glance over at his unfinished burger and wedges. Would he notice if you snuck in a bite of the meat, stole a fry? No - no, that’s wrong and you know it. You’re not Grim - you’re better than that. Wrapping your arms tighter around your stomach you turn back towards the window, once again trying to ignore the way your stomach continues to growl, mocking you. You almost jump out of your seat when something slams down on your side of the table. You’re startled to find a plate of food waiting for you. 

“Eat.” That sounds more like a demand than a suggestion. Coming from Ace, it’s rather surprising. He sits across from you once more, no smile in sight as he stares at you, expression serious. You look down at the plate of food - a dish you often order from places like this. The growling of your gut intensifies as the glorious scent fills your nostrils. You look up at Ace and eye him suspiciously. 

“I’m not falling for it,” you say, accusingly. 

“Falling for what?” 

“This!” You point at the plate of food. “You’re going to make me do some favor or something in return - like do your homework!” 

Ace scoffs. “Who am I, Azul? I’m not gonna do something like that!” You narrow your eyes at him. “Okay, okay, I’ve done it before! But that’s not what this is about.” 

He nudges the plate closer to you with his finger. “I’m not going to stuff my face and let you go hungry. I’m not even that low.” You raise an eyebrow at him. Ace briefly raises his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, maybe I’ve been an ass like that before. This is different, though.” 

Ace leans back in his seat. “Eat, okay?” The beginning of a grin tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Or am I going to have to come over there and force you?” 

No way in hell were you going to let that happen. He actually is serious, then. Well…if he insists. You put aside your suspicions - for now - and begin to eat. Immediately, you feel relief. In no time you’re wolfing down your food; it’s only when Ace chuckles at how you stuff your face that you slow down. “It’s good,” you say, trying not to be embarrassed. 

“Mhm,” Ace hums in agreement as he chomps down on his burger. “Real good stuff,” he concurs through a mouthful of meat, bun, veggies, and condiments. 

“Ew!” You cringe in disgust as you catch a glimpse of the mushy food in his mouth. “Don’t talk with your mouthful. It’s gross!” 

Ace laughs as he swallows the bite. “You’re such a baby! You sound like Crewel.” He lightly kicks your ankle under the table. “Are you gonna call me a ‘bad dog,’ too?” 

“No,” you grin at him wickedly, “but I could tell him how you’ve been acting here.” 

You glimpsed fear in those cherry-colored eyes. “Don’t you dare! My ass is already grass when we get back!” He jabs a potato wedge in your direction. “And I bought you that food.” 

“See?” You smirked. “I told you you’d use this against me.” The boy frowns at the realization, almost appearing disappointed in himself. An odd look on him, but likely nothing too deep. You smile and say, “Tell you what: as thanks for the food, I won’t tell anyone about your bad table manners.” 

Ace’s smile is almost mischievous as he winks at you. “Deal.” He nods his head to the side, towards the napkin holder at the edge of the table near the window. “You want me to take one of those napkins and write up a makeshift contrast, too?” 

You laugh as you shake your head, right before taking another big bite of your food. Maybe sneaking away from the rest of your class - whether or not intentional - wasn’t so bad after all. 

***

Your asses were, indeed, grass when you finally made it back to Sebastian Square. You arrived just in time to catch the rest of your schoolmates and teachers about to leave the area for the resort. Professor Crewel was the one to greet you both, as Vargas and Trein had gone out to look for you. To say the man chewed you out would be an understatement - and in front of all your peers, too. Of course, when it was discovered that you were only trying to keep Ace from running off, your punishment was a lot lighter. All you would have to do is write a one page apology for not notifying a staff member instead, among other details. Ace, on the other hand, barely got out of detention while still on the trip; although, he would surely face that consequence the moment he stepped back on campus. 

You step out of your hotel room and into the hall. Once again, hunger pangs your gut, and you decide to satiate it with a midnight snack. As you walk, your hand feels the billfold within your pocket. You’re very grateful that, upon learning that you used the last of your funds to procure sustenance during your unplanned delinquency, Crewel replenished your empty pockets. He strictly stated that they were for necessities - however, he discreetly said that, should there be any wants you desire in the last several days of the trip, you may come see him. Many would call it special treatment, but at this rate you’re waiting for the man to serve you adoption papers. 

The glimpse of a smile ghosts over your lips as you take the elevator down to the lobby. After departing the lift, you walk across the room and enter a smaller one a short distance away from the front desk. What meets your gaze are three large vending machines - and one familiar redhead. “Ace?” 

The man startles at the sound of his name. Obviously, he didn’t expect anyone else to come down here, let alone find him. “Shh!” he hisses. “Shut up! You want Crewel or Trein or Vargas to hear?” 

“And cook your goose further?” You giggle. “Nah - I don’t think you can get anymore burnt.” You ignore the daggers he glares into the back of your head as you view the choices available behind the glass of the vending machines. Candy, chips, granola bars, bottled drinks - you insert your money into your chosen machine and make your selection. Ace does the same shortly after you’ve acquired your snack. As you suspected, it’s a candy bar, one made of dark chocolate and cherries. 

“Bad dog!” You almost scare Ace out of his skin. “You’ll rot your teeth with that!” 

“You-!” Ace looks like he’s going to punch your shoulder, but refrains. He tucks the bar of chocolate into his pocket before walking past you. He bumps into you as he does, forcing you to sway to the side. 

“Hey, watch it!” 

“Make me!” he calls back, mockingly sticking his tongue out at you before making a run for the elevators. You run after him, but by the time you get across the lobby, muttering a quick apology to the janitor you almost bumped into, Ace is already gone. You mumble under your breath how annoying he is as you hit a button between the elevators, indicating you want to go up. After a small bit of waiting, the one to your far left opens and you get on. You press the button for your floor and watch the large metal doors close, right before you feel yourself ascending upwards. 

As you wait to reach your floor, you lean against the wall and shove your hands into your pockets. Your forehead crinkles as you frown, confused as to why there’s some sort of paper in your right pocket. You take it out, wondering if it’s some form of receipt you forgot. Instead, in your hand is a folded piece of lined paper, like you would use at school. You unfold the paper once, twice, three times before its face is opened up towards you. Your eyes widen as you read the words on the page, written in red ink. 

Date #1 was nice. Date #2?

❑ Yes    ❑No

[munsonfamilyband]

So I’m aware it’s no longer Valentine’s day but enough people liked part one so here’s part 2 of my Valentine’s Post

———————————————

The past couple days had not been fun for Steve. It started on the 12th when Eddie went on a tirade about how much he hated Valentine’s day and wouldn’t ever celebrate it. Steve knew his crush was hopeless already but that was just painful to hear, especially knowing that Eddie didn’t even know it was Steve’s birthday.

When Eddie had left to go help Nancy plan her date with Robin, he had dropped his head onto the counter with a groan.

“It might have been easier if he said he didn’t like me at all.” Robin rubbed his back gently.

“I know. How does he not know it’s your birthday though? Why didn’t you tell him?”

“I don’t like celebrating my birthday usually. I mean, most of the kids don’t even know when it is, but I was going to tell him on the actual day, maybe guilt him into hanging out with me and I could pretend it was a date.”

“Dingus, Steve, platonic love of my life, that is sad.” Steve just groaned again and Robin moved away from him to get back to stocking the shelves like she had been. “At some point you need to just tell him how you feel.”

“Thanks but no thanks, I’m okay existing in ignorance.”

“Steve.” He sat up and turned to her, crossing his arms.

“Robin. You know why I don’t want to take the chance.”

She sighed, looking at the case in her hand briefly before turning to him again. “I know, and as unrealistic as it is, I do wish that the conversation you and Nancy had fixed your insecurities so you could be happy. But I know there are other insecurities there, I just wish you could get something good for yourself.” He gave her a small smile, but he knew she could see how fake it was.

Now, two days later, they were back in Family Video. Robin had insisted that she had to sleep over the night before because it was his birthday and she had woken him up with (thankfully) store bought cinnamon buns and coffee. She had also thrown glitter over him as soon as he was dressed for work, telling him that it was to set the mood for the day.

He hated it then, he still hates it now as he bends over to pick up a tape and glitter falls out of his hair even hours later. It was just after the lunch rush had ended and Steve was dreading the dinner rush, especially since it meant a hoard of boyfriends coming to get last minute movies for Valentine’s day. He just wanted to curl up on his couch with ice cream and the bottle of wine he bought himself.

Robin had been weird all day too. First it was picking out his outfit, including his so-called “ass jeans”, then it was the glitter, then she had been playing the weirdest romcoms in the store. She had somehow been slipping little origami hearts into his pockets all day without him noticing. Things really got weird when he reached into his pocket and found something that wasn’t a little paper heart - it was more solid and felt metallic. Taking it out, he found a Hersey kiss and a note taped to it.

“Rob, I know you feel bad about me not having a date but you don’t need to sneak me chocolate.” He looked over at her for her response and immediately clocked her scheming face. “Robin. What are you doing?”

“Nothing! Just read the little note! I was paid handsomely for that so you better open it.” He just rolled his eyes and looked back at the chocolate. Deciding that he might as well, he opened the note and read it.

“Sweetheart, normally you get spankings but I figured a birthday kiss was a better way to start <3”

“Robin, why the fuck did you give me this?!”

“I’m not super happy about being roped into this, I promise, but I was paid for my time. Just wait, there’s more to come apparently.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Much to his disappointment, Robin refused to say anything more. And she stayed that way for the rest of their shift, including up to the moment they parted ways so she could get into Nancy’s waiting car.

He ended up forgetting all about it when he opened his wine and started in on the ice cream, until he heard muffled music from the backyard. Climbing out of his blanket nest with a frown he worked his way over to the back door and saw Eddie standing there with a boombox raised above his head. He was looking up at Steve’s bedroom window, and he had Madonna, of all things, blasting through the speakers.

“What the hell are you doing, Eddie?” Clearly Eddie hadn’t heard him open the sliding doors and he jumped, nearly dropping the boombox.

“Steve! How did you-were you not upstairs?”

“No, I was watching a movie on the couch. Still not answering the question though.” Steve crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame to look Eddie over. For once his jeans weren’t ripped and he had a plain t shirt on under his jacket. He looked more put together than usual but Steve couldn’t figure out why.

“Shit, uh, that sort of changes my plans but I can work with this. No tower serenade, that’s fine-“

“Sorry, serenade? What is going on, Eddie?” Eddie just sighed in response before seeming to steel himself.

“I fucked up, badly, the other day. I got wrapped up in my own opinions and I didn’t even consider how you felt about Valentine’s day - let alone that it was apparently your birthday. Nancy was actually the one to let me in on it, she asked what I was planning. And uh, well, I got her to help me plan this whole thing, but I was kind of hoping that you would be in your room so that you couldn’t see how terrified I am-“

“Wait, Eddie, I’m confused, why-“ Eddie just held a hand up to stop Steve before continuing to speak.

“I was going to give you this whole speech about how I’ve been in love with you for months now but I’ve been way too scared to say anything and even though I seriously messed up, at least it gave me a kick in the ass, so uh-“

“Wait.” Steve had to stop him there, because he was getting the picture but he needed to do a couple things first.

The first thing was rushing forward, grabbing Eddie’s face in his hands and kissing him right on the mouth.

The second, while Eddie was still shocked from the kiss was to say, “hold that thought. I’m going to run up to my room and we can try again.” Grinning like an idiot, Steve ran back into his house and up the stairs. He had never been serenaded before but he was excited to try it.

Taglist

@nburkhardt @i-less-than-three-you @nelotegreitic @liketheocean @darkwitchoferie @4nemo1egend @scarletyeager @the-redthread @thev01dd

[a-french-coconut]

Part 3 (Will Solace)

"You look like a zombie dude," his sister Kayla remarks oh so astutely.

"I'm fine, just didn't got any good sleep last night. Nothing for you to worry about."

And that's true ! During the whole night, Will dreamt of Raz leaving black grass behind her, laughing and humming as she infects his friends. But since Raz is a secret he'll take to the burning pyre, Kayla will have to do with the short version.

He gulps down his fifth cup of coffee, pointedly ignoring his sister's worried eyes.

"Will... if there's something wrong you can tell me you know."

"Everything's fine Kayla, really. Gotta head to the infirmary, see you later."

Turns out everything is not fine.

It's disastrous.

His infirmary is overcrowded with some campers complaining about headaches, others shivering even though is summer and a few are bedridden.

Will tries his best but he is alone, he won't risk Kayla and Austin getting sick, and he can hardly do anything against diseases he gave to his fellow demigods when that part of him in no lunger under his control.

He'll rather stab himself than revealing he's the reason all Camp is sick though.

Therefore, there's only one solution left : finding Raz and reclaim that part of him. Which is going an arduous task since he has no idea where she is or how she even left in the first place.

He'll cross that bridge when he gets there.

He convinces Chiron to watch over his patients while he goes into the forest looking for specifics herbs that might help him.

They'll help him reduce the stress he's feeling but his dearest mentor does not need to know that.

As he mindlessly walks in the woods, he wonders why Raz is doing all of this. Why snap after ten years of compliance ?

"You're really dense you know that ?"

She is perched on a tree, looking down on him with a bored expression.

It angers Will, how can she be bored after all the disease she spread ?

"The first girl was an accident... her hair was just so pretty and I wanted to feel it..."

Raz looks remorseful about making sick Miranda but Will doesn't buy it.

"Why didn't you stop then ?"

She looks unsure of what to say and its worsens his already sour mood. Being so close and yet so far of his missing part is infuriating. He can feel her presence but not the control he normally has over her.

"Hard for you to reclaim something you don't want in the first place," she mumbles.

"What ? Why would I not want my-"

"You hate me remember ?"

Her tone is bitter, her eyes won't meet his. He's running out of patience.

"That's why you've been spreading illness to my friends ?"

"It was an accident !"

"Right ! Just like giving fucking pneumonia to my uncle I suppose then !"

Her eyes glow a bright green, her fingers clenches the branch she's sitting on. He doesn't see the black lines on the bark.

He does see the tears glazing her eyes but he's too furious to care.

"And then you wonder why I hate you ! Since I created you, you've been nothing but trouble !"

More cracks spread through the bark.

"You almost killed my uncle and you won't tell me why !"

They reach the ground.

"Now you attack my friends !"

Grass starts wilting around the tree's base.

"So yes Raz I hate you ! I hate what you represent, that disgusting part of me I wish never existed ! I wish you never existed."

The tree crumbles to ashes.

His tirade left him panting, eyes blown wide with rage and now horror as he sees the damage she caused.

They are surrounded by a giant circle of wilted grass and rotting cadavers of small rodents and trees.

In the centre sits Raz, still as a statue.

He can see her trembling, rocking head and forth.

Maybe he went too far.

"Raz I-"

"He was going to hit you."

What ? Who was she talking about ?

"That night, your uncle was going to hit you. You had just took conscience of your powers and I didn't know which illness was fatal or not. I just gave him the first one that came when you reached out to me."

He is frozen.

Her voice is small and shaky. She looks at him with wet eyes and whispers, "I just wanted to protect you.".

He falls on his knees.

"That night, you looked at me with such horror... like I was a monster."

"You're not a-"

"Don't lie Will, it just hurts more. I know what you think about me, I'm you remember ? "

All the times he thought about his plague powers, all the times he felt disgusted... she sensed it all.

"All I ever wanted was to protect you, to be your friend just like you imagined me to be. But you never call me to help, never accepted my help either."

She just wanted to protect him and he rejected her over and over.

"It hurts Will. It hurts so much to finally know that you'll never love me, that you'll never love yourself.", her voice is hoarse and Will realises she's been crying the whole time.

"My powers... your powers are not evil. You can use them to cure the diseases if you don't want to use them on monsters. All the patients too injured to save that died a slow painful death ? I could have prevented their suffering ! Given them the mercy of a quick death !"

She's screaming at him, he does not stop her.

It's all he deserves.

"BUT YOU HAVE ALWAYS AND WILL ALWAYS HATE ME !"

He's the one crying now, tears falling on the withered ground.

"You wish I never existed. Let me grant you at least this."

His head snaps to look at her. She's gotten up and closed her eyes, concentrating on something.

He feels the pull of power flowing under her skin.

Ten years of restraint.

Ten years of plagues and illnesses pushed down in Raz that now have tasted freedom.

Ten years of resentment and now their captors is setting them free. Their first victim is obvious.

Tendrils of black smoke swirls around Raz, the little girl searching every finer of sickness she has in her to unleash them on herself.

She causes illness in everyone she touches.

Her own creator despises her.

Not even her Lord Apollo likes this domain.

The world will better off without her.

Will will finally be happy, not burdened anymore. That's all she ever wanted.

She takes a moment to enjoy one last time the sun on her skin before releasing the plagues.

A warm body embraces her, stopping dead on her tracks.

She opens her eyes only to see golden curls.

Will Solace is hugging her.

He hates you.

"I love you Raz."

You are the bane of his existence.

"I can't live without you so please don't leave me."

You're a monster.

"You keep me balanced. I need you, I need that part of myself to live."

He...

He needs me ?

"I'm sorry I didn't realise this sooner."

"I can't hold them anymore Will. I'm sorry."

She gave too much liberty already. They won't go back now.

She expects the familiar bitterness when Will thinks about her.

She only senses love.

Will is looking at her with a smile as bright as the sun, despite all the mistakes she made, despite the plagues she's about to unleash on the world.

"You can't but we do. Together as one."

She feels him inviting her back to him. Never once has he been happy to have her in his mind again.

She smiles and lets go of her physical form.

It's invigorating to be whole again.

Especially know that he welcomes Raz as a part of himself.

It's really hypocritical of him to have taken so much time in understanding that Raz is not evil. After giving dozens of speeches to Nico about his powers on this exact topic, he feels he's going to hear about this for the rest of eternity.

But right now he has to stop this whirlwind of diseases ready to plague the world.

Will closes his eyes and try to force them under his command.

He can feel thousands of spirits, the bubonic plague, pneumonia, hay fever and so much more. Not of one them wants to yield.

Will is not one to force himself on others but in this case he'll make an exception.

Combining his healing and plague powers, he coerces the spirits under his control. It takes him a while to secure each of them, he's trembling, his skin is burning from the amount divine energy he's using. His mortal skin is not made to uphold such divinity on one instant and he can feel it burning and blistering.

Eventually he manages to get them all.

Now the difficult part.

Thousands of deadly illnesses and he's going to use it against them.

He wills with all his might the spirits to attack each other and to his great relief, they're too bloodthirsty to resist.

The process drains him completely. His two arms are covered in second degree burns and some of his curls are now white.

He can't pass out in the forest, he'll die.

He doesn't have any energy left to get up and walk.

That's how he dies then, devoured by some monster in the middle of ashes.

(We're not dying here Will.)

Oh hi Raz.

(Come on we need to think ! How can we alert our siblings ?)

I could try a supersonic whistle but I doubt they'll hear it.

(It's worth a try.)

Will takes a large inspiration.

A sharp, shrilling noise echoes in the woods.

His vision gets dark.

(Really ? An attack of hyperglycaemia ! When was the last time you ate something !?)

And whose fault was it !

(Yours !)

He passes out.

part 4 posted !

[spaceyaceface]

Fear - Safety Ch 4

Ominis Gaunt x f!Ravenclaw!Reader (Reader is not MC)

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Emotional abuse, physical abuse (implied)

Summary: Y/N L/N had always despised Ominis Gaunt. He was everything she hated about her life. As the only daughter to a wealthy pure-blood family, she knew it was inevitable that she would someday find herself in an arranged marriage.

But why did it have to be him?

Or, a classic arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, slow burn.

Also available on AO3

Chapter One | Chapter Three

She was now much more aware of Ominis Gaunt than she would like to admit. 

Each time she thought about their unfortunate situation (which was more often than she liked) her eyes would drift over to him, and she had to hold in a small sigh. Constance, the ever observant friend she was, had started to notice some of her strange silences and far off looks. 

“Really, what’s gotten into you?” Constance asked her as they walked between classes. Y/N had just spent the majority of History of Magic looking at Gaunt, and it seemed that Constance had seen it. “Are you still mad at him? Blimey, it’s been a good couple weeks now.” 

She sighed. “No, I just… my parents have been putting a lot of pressure on me lately. That’s all.” 

“Pressure for what? Your grades are already perfect.” 

She frowned. “They’re getting worse. It’s more than grades now. It’s… my future.” 

Constance gave an unpleased hum. “They should be delighted you want a job in the Ministry. You’ll be perfect at it. And it’s a position of power.”

“But I’m their daughter, not their son,” she reminded her. “If I was, they’d be more than happy to see me with a successful career. But as it stands, all they want is for me to marry well and have some perfect pureblooded heirs for them to put in their will.” 

“Ridiculous,” Constance said. “They want you to marry someone like Gaunt? Is that it?”

Her heart raced. She’d practically stumbled upon the truth. But before she could answer, her friend continued. 

“You can just run off if they tell you to do something like that. They can’t make you.” 

How she wished Constance was right. 

As much as Y/N hated to admit it, there had always been little she could do outside of her parent’s control. Here at Hogwarts was the most freedom she’d ever tasted—while not under her father’s scrutiny she could do pretty much as she pleased. It had given Constance the impression that while her parents were awful and intimidating, she could still stand up to them and get away with it. The reality was anything but. Every move she took leading up to this point was a risk, perfectly calculated to save herself from suffering. But they’d finally backed her into a corner. 

With her family’s wealth and influence, they could make her do whatever they wanted. And in this case, it was her inevitable marriage. 

It didn’t mean she wasn’t still fighting—no, in the past few days she’d taken what she considered were some of the biggest risks in her life. The letters she’d sent to her parents were hardly more than a refusal to cooperate—she’d tried reasoning with them, bargaining to wait a few more years, anything she could think of in her previous letters, but to no avail. She’d decided that maybe putting her foot down would be the only way to get anywhere this time. She hadn’t heard back from them yet—and if she was honest, she was terrified to see their response. 

But she just shrugged her shoulders at Constance’s words, carrying on. “I’m not the only one in a bad mood. Andrew seemed really displeased this morning.” She smirked at her friend beside her. “Were you really that dismal at practice last night?” 

Thankfully, Constance took the bait and went off on a tirade about the Quidditch team, complaining about the schedule not having enough time to practice properly and about the new Seeker Andrew had picked for the team (“He’s a third year! He can catch things just fine with two feet on the ground, but put him up in the air and he’s abysmal.”) 

Y/N happily got lost in her friend’s complaining, offering her own thoughts as she went on. It was enough to take them to their last class, and they then picked up the conversation right where they left it after. But soon, even Constance had had enough of her own opinions (which was saying something) and they shifted to schoolwork and professors. 

She hadn’t realized how little she’d thought about her problems until a young student came rushing up to her. He was a small Ravenclaw boy, he couldn’t be older than a first or second year. He was wringing his hands together when he approached. 

“Are you Y/N L/N?” he asked. She frowned. 

“I am.” 

“Headmaster Black told me you need to go to his office.” 

Her stomach sank. No wonder the poor kid was terrified—any sensible child  would be after a moment’s conversation with Black. But why was she being summoned? She shot a glance at Constance, who furrowed her brow. She looked back at the young boy in front of her and sighed. “Well, I’ll be off then. Thanks for sharing the message.” 

He ran off as soon as she thanked him. Constance spoke up beside her. “Do you want me to come—“ 

“No,” she said quickly. “No, I should be fine. I’ll meet you at dinner.” 

Anticipation burned in her stomach as she left Constance, heading up the Grand Staircase to go to the Headmaster’s office. There were very few reasons she could think of for being summoned there. When she reached the door, she took a deep breath and knocked. 

The door was opened by Professor Black himself. “Ah,” he said, his nasally voice grating against her ears. “Miss L/N. Come inside.”

Her worst fears were confirmed when she looked past him, and there, standing beside Professor Black’s desk, were her parents. 

She felt her body tense immediately as the door closed behind her. It was like a switch had been flipped—no longer was she the bold and clever Ravenclaw girl who strode fearlessly through the halls of Hogwarts. In an instant, she was nothing but the quiet, obedient daughter her father demanded she be. 

Even after all this time, she wasn’t sure which version of herself was the real one. 

Her father’s glare bore into her. The harsh lines of his face, permanently pulled into a deep frown, stood out in the shadows of the room. Her mother stared absently at the floor from his side, as if nothing but a shell. With the slightest movement of his hand, her father beckoned her to come closer to them. Her feet obeyed without a single thought. 

Her father broke his eye contact with her to look at Professor Black. “Thank you, Phineas,” he said. His tone held no warmth in it. “If we could use your office to speak with her for a moment, it would be much appreciated.” 

Professor Black nodded, walking to the door of the room conjoined to his office. “Of course,” he said smoothly. My heart beat more rapidly at the thought of being alone with them. How pitiful that she would take even Phineas Black as company when it came to them. But he was gone, the sound of the door closing seeming to echo in her head. Her eyes fell to the floor, trying to take deep breaths. 

“Look at me, girl.” It took a couple minutes of convincing herself before she was able to meet his stare. He walked closer to her, the menacing sound of his steps falling harsh on her ears. “We got your blasted letters,” he said quietly. “And we’ve come to make sure they stop.” 

She willed herself to stand firm, staring up at him. “I’m sorry I sent the letters,” she said softly. “I would have preferred to discuss the… the situation in person.” 

There was that slight twitch of his upper lip—the one that meant he was close to boiling over. “There is nothing to discuss,” he hissed. 

Her eyes darted briefly to her mother, who seemed wholly unaware of the conversation, staring blankly at the wall opposite her. Her idleness always stung. She looked back at her father. “If I could have just a couple of years,” she started quietly. “I could start a career, bring honor to our—”

He let out a cruel humorless laugh. “You ruined this family’s chance of honor the day you were born,” he said. It wasn’t like she hadn’t had the words before. She should have been numb to them by now—but they still cut deep, reminding her that she had been despised the moment she came into this world. “I have found a way you can still provide some worth, and yet you do nothing but argue against it.”

Her mouth went dry. “I… I wasn’t trying to argue, I’m sorry, Father, I just—”

He took another step forward, his hand darting out to grasp her forearm, fingers digging into her flesh. She resisted the urge to step away and tear herself out of his grip, but couldn’t help but the small gasp that escaped her. His fingertips were only separated from her scarred skin by the fabric of her shirt, and she was sure he had grabbed her there as a reminder of what he was capable of. 

His voice came out as a low growl. “There will be no more arguing. There will be no more letters. Do you understand me?” 

She could hardly breath, struggling to form the words. 

“Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” she said quickly. “Yes, I understand, Father.” 

He let go of her wrist just as quickly as he had grabbed it, and she took a step back, looking away from his horrid eyes. “Good,” he said in a low voice. “Now say goodbye to your mother and get out.” 

She stepped carefully around him, toward the woman who had stood so still during the whole encounter. She stopped only a step away. “Goodbye, Mother. I’ll… I’ll see you soon.”

Her mother made the first movement she’d seen since she’d arrived there, stretching out her hand to take Y/N’s in a weak grasp. “Goodbye, dear.” 

She turned to leave before she lost control of her breathing. But a voice called out from behind her, making her freeze with her hand outstretched for the door handle. 

“And girl,” her father said. “Don’t think your silly fight with the Gaunt boy didn’t reach us. If I hear of anything more like that…” 

“You won’t,” she breathed. “I promise.” 

She left before he had the chance to say anything more. The door slammed behind her in her haste to get away, but her head was too blurred with frustration to think of the consequences of that action. She tried to focus on nothing but placing one foot in front of the other, knowing each step would take her away from that horrible man. Away from those awful memories. She didn’t even know where she was going—but it didn’t matter. 

She knew she couldn’t go to dinner in a state like this. Her breathing was still coming short and ragged, and she knew her hands were shaking in both fear and anger. So she settled instead on tucking herself into a window nook in an empty hall, burying her head in her knees and letting tears slip silently down her face. 

It should have been clear something like that was coming. She had to have known it all along—just hoping that for once, her father would listen to her. That perhaps, her mother would stand up for her only child, instead of letting harsh words and actions carry on without a care. 

Her hand began to subconsciously trace over her left wrist—the one her father had held. Surely his tight grasp would leave bruises, pairing well with the scar he had left there years before. She knew her father’s threats were never empty. He’d proved it in the past. 

She hadn’t realized how long she had stayed there until she heard the echo of footsteps begin down the hall. Dinner must have ended—students would be going back to their common rooms shortly, and she didn’t want to be seen in the midst of them. Leaping to her feet, she retreated down the hall, away from the sound of approaching voices. She knew the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower would be quiet at this time of night, so she set her course for there, hoping silently that she wouldn’t come across anyone on the way. 

Her hope seemed to be in good faith. She was soon in the lowest floor of the tower without a person in sit. Sighing, she laid her back against one of the marble walls before sinking to the ground. 

She wasn’t crying anymore. The tears had settled, and she instead felt numb. She refused to think back on the tone of her father’s voice, the cruel words and actions, and focused on what she would tell Constance had happened when she got back to the common room. 

Her concentration on the matter was so deep she almost missed the sound of footsteps echoing through the otherwise silent halls. She stood up quickly, eyes darting around to find the source. Her eyes caught the subtle red glow of a wand, and she realized quickly who was holding it. 

A sigh of relief escaped her lips. Funny, how not long before he would have been the last person she would want to see in a weak moment. Now, the sight of him made her feel a strange sense of comfort. He was the only person who could even begin to understand some of the pain of her life. 

His head tilted as he heard her stand. “Hello?” he called out. She debated staying silent for a moment, but he was already walking toward her. He would recognize who she was soon enough. 

“Hello, it’s just me,” she said back, cursing herself at the slight crack in her voice. 

Ominis frowned, making his way toward her. “What are you doing here? You weren’t at dinner.” 

“No I wasn’t,” she admitted. “But how do you know that?” 

“Constance isn’t exactly quiet, is she?” He smiled slightly. “She was asking everyone around if they had seen you.”  

She couldn’t help but chuckle at that, but it still sounded rather hollow. Ominis seemed to notice the tone. “Are you alright?” he asked softly, standing just before her. 

His soft words were enough to have her blinking back tears, and she cleared her throat. “I’m fine,” she said. “I just… didn’t want to be around anyone for a while.”

“Should I…”

“No,” she said quickly, shocked at how quickly the word left her. She spoke again, taking a breath to calm herself. “No, I think it would be better if… if I were with someone.” 

Ominis hummed, seeming to understand, despite being given so little to go off of. “I’ll stay, then,” he said decisively. “Though perhaps here isn’t the best place.” He pressed his lips together, seeming to think something over. His next words came out slowly. “I… I know a place near here. We wouldn’t get caught staying out past curfew there.” 

She thought for a moment. “Alright,” she said. “Sounds better than detention.” 

He chuckled lightly. “Follow me. It’s not far.” 

She let him lead her down the hall a bit, turning a corner where a strange cabinet stood. He seemed to hesitate a moment. “You won’t tell anyone about this place, will you?” 

“No,” she said. “If you’re willing to show me your hiding spot, the least I can do is keep it a secret.” 

He nodded, encouraged by her words. Dials on the cabinet began to spin and whirl, and after a moment, a door swung open. Her eyes widened as he stepped inside and into a hidden room. She stood still for a moment before he called out to her. “Come on.” 

She followed him, walking down a set of stone stairs as the door closed behind her. Ahead of them, the stairway opened up into a large room. 

“What is this place?” she asked. 

“The Undercroft,” Ominis answered. “A Gaunt family secret. One of many.” 

She looked around the room, admiring it. It was old and dusty—it sure didn’t scream of comfort. But It was incredible nonetheless, seeing as she had to be one of the few people to have ever laid eyes on it. “Amazing,” she breathed. “Who else knows about it.”

“All of my family, of course,” Ominis said, leaning against one of the walls and folding his arms. “Sebastian and Anne. And now you.” 

“Sounds pretty exclusive.” 

“It is.” 

She chuckled. “It’s always been here, then?” 

“Since Hogwarts was built,” Ominis confirmed. “Salazar Slytherin left many secrets for his descendants, including this one. This is probably the only one I’m fond of.” 

“You come here often, then?” 

“Why do you think I was doing in the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower in the first place?” he said, smiling a bit. “The three of us have used this place a lot over the years. Sebastian usually uses it to practice spells not on the curriculum, but I use it as a bit of an escape, I suppose.” 

She hummed. “I’m grateful you showed me. It’s nice.” She came up beside him before sitting down on the floor, leaning her back against the wall. 

After a moment of silence, Ominis slid down the wall, sitting with her. “Do you want to know another Gaunt family secret?”

Curiosity bubbled up in her chest. “If you’re willing to share.” 

“More than willing. In fact, I think you have a bit of a right to know, seeing as it’s part of the reason you’re so miserable. It’s the most well-kept secret of them all.” Her brows furrowed as a rueful smile stretched across his lips. “We’re very nearly destitute.”

Her mouth fell open. “You… what? How is that—” 

“My family has always lived lavishly. It’s practically a tradition, one that goes back to Salazar himself. Each generation has spent more and more to live larger than the one before, all while the fortune has withered away.” 

“And your parents have told you you have nothing to inherit?” she asked. 

He scoffed. “Of course not. They’d be admitting their loss. They haven’t told me anything. But you can’t hide letting go of staff and house elves, or selling heirlooms I was raised to all but worship.” 

Then it clicked. “That’s why they’re having us marry.” 

“Precisely.” 

“I’m the last heir to my family’s entire fortune. The moment you marry me, they’ll expect us to take care of them,” she said bitterly. “And my parents get exactly what they want, too. To leave me with a name they view as worth having.”

“It’s quite the perfect arrangement, really,” Ominis said. “We get your money. You get our legacy.”

She laughed without an ounce of humor. “God,” she said softly. “We really do make a miserable pair, don’t we?” 

Ominis’s silence was answer enough to that. The sit like that for several long moments before she felt him tense up beside her. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he started. “But… why weren’t you at dinner?”

She sighed heavily. “My parents came to… visit me,” she said softly. “They um… my father was tired of all the letter’s I’d sent. He told me I had to stop arguing with him.” 

“Your father isn’t a good man, is he?” Ominis said softly, voice just above a whisper. 

Silence. 

“My family is much the same,” he admitted. “You already knew that. But it’s not just Muggles who get a taste of their fury.” 

She looked over at him, studying the hard expression on his face. It felt like gazing into a mirror. She recognized those kinds of walls, knew exactly how carefully they’d been built. There was a profound sense of comfort in feeling that level of understanding. They didn’t need to get into specifics. They didn’t need to lay it out. It was there, despite all that, in the way they each guarded themselves so carefully. 

Her knees pulled up to her chest. “Why do you let people assume the worst of you, Ominis?” 

He shrugged a bit. “I have enough to worry about as is. The opinions of my peers pale in comparison, I suppose. I cared what they thought of me at first, but I grew tired when I realized most people would choose to see me how they wanted no matter what I did.” 

She sighed. “I’m sorry to say I was one of them.” 

She didn’t miss the slight smile that spread across his face. “Was, you say?” 

“Yes, was.” She shifted, holding herself up straighter. “To think all this time I’ve gone on hating you, when I could have considered you a friend.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Would you consider me that now?” 

She thought about it. “Yes. I would consider you a good friend, Ominis.” 

Maybe she was reading too much into it, but he seemed happy with her words. He got to his feet, smiling lightly. “Well then, friend, I’ll let you have some quiet.” he said. He pulled out his wand, walking toward the exit. “I recommend using the Disillusionment charm on your way back.”

He left her alone, but she felt so much lighter than she had before. 

-

Chapter Five

Not entirely happy with this chapter, but I'm glad I at least got through my writer's block. I hope you enjoyed!

TAGLIST:

@skarathewitch @cherryflavoredcoke @phoenix666stuff @wt-fxck @shameless0shenanigans @fitzs-trained-monkey

[ythankucaptainmccoy]

Simon Ghost Riley x Reader (The Living Kill Too) Ch.3

This is a long one guys and there is a lot to unpack in this one. WARNING: THIS CHAPTER HAS RAPE/SEXUAL ASSAULT!!!(so please read responsibly), Blood, Gore, Violence and Zombies. ONCE AGAIN PLEASE DON'T READ IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH ANYTHING MENTIONED ABOVE!

The halfway mark to the hospital didn’t take as long as you had expected, but Ghost had expertly traversed the streets. The vegetation had begun to take over, and if it weren’t for the dead roaming the streets you would consider it peaceful. Ghost peaked a corner as you waited for his instruction. “Alright the hospital is just ahead. There are some dead roamin’ around, but if ya’ keep ta’ the scattered cars for cover and follow my lead we’ll make it without alertin’ any of em’”, he told you.

He crouched down and made his way to the first car with you following right behind him. It was pretty easy to traverse since some of the cars were close together from the panic when the dead started their tirade. It went on like this for a couple more streets until you both had made it to the ambulance entrance. “We can’t go in this way, come on, I know where to go from here”, you told him going to the back of the hospital. 

The back of the hospital had an old fire escape on it, and you smiled as you started climbing. Half way up it groaned and Ghost looked at you as you shrugged continuing on as the memories came flooding back.

—-------------------------------

It was dark as the stars twinkled like diamonds and the small city was quieting down for the night. The hospital seemed quiet tonight as you made your way up the fire escape. It groaned slightly and you shook your head as you continued to climb. You reached the top and hoisted yourself over. Kane sat in an old lawn chair smoking a cigarette. “Wondered if you were gonna’ show up”, he laughed.

You laughed as you sauntered over and straddled him. “Well I would have been here sooner, but traffic was a drag”, you replied. “I’m sorry I haven’t been home princess, but they needed me to stay when some of the others called in”, he apologized. “It’s okay I’m here now”, you smirked as he kissed you. His hands went under your shirt to grope you. In minutes you were both naked with Kane moaning beneath you as you giggled.

—--------------------------------

When you pulled yourself over the ledge onto the roof there sat the old lawn chair that Kane had left there. You wiped at your eyes as you tried to focus on the present. Ghost watched as you seemed to take in the scene before you. The door was still slightly cracked with a cigarette carton keeping it from closing completely. “This is our way in”, you smiled. The stairwell led down all the way to the ground floor. 

“Alright this is where we need to split up’, you whispered to him. “I don’t think tha’s a good idea”, he replied. “Look we only have a couple hours of daylight. There are ten floors if we sweep them alternating then we can get done faster. I told you where the supply rooms are on each floor”, you explained. “Fine, but if you aren’t on the roof in thirty minutes I leave you behind ," he told you. You nodded and headed to the first floor while he took the second. 

It was extremely dark on the first floor as you made your way to the medical supply room. There wasn’t much since it seemed to have already been ransacked. You went to exit when you heard it. The dead must have heard you so you quickly made your way towards the stairs. You had just managed to close the door when they slammed into it. The noise of them slamming against the door would likely draw attention. 

You quickened your pace and went to the third floor. All the floors you went to you packed all the supplies you could shove into your pack. You were on your last floor, the ninth when it happened. You had gotten a motherload of antibiotics, pain meds and so much more when you heard the dead on this floor. Most seemed trapped in rooms so you weren’t too worried. 

You went to leave when a room caught your eye. You remembered that room like it was yesterday. All the memories flooding back to you crushing all sense of loneliness that you had felt.

—------------------------------

Sneaking into the hospital had been easy and finding the room he had text you was a little trickier due to the nurses, but you managed to slip inside. Kane was standing there looking out the window as you entered. “I would have rather done this at home, but we can play just as easily here”, he smiled. He approached you quickly to kiss you until you were breathless. He smirked at you as you smiled knowing what was about to happen.

He spun you around quickly pushing you over the bed pushing down your pants, and then his own. The first thrust had you mewling as he covered your mouth with his hand. “Easy princess can’t get caught now”, he chuckled into your ear. The whole hour just the two of you in various positions and how he had held you for the last ten minutes of his break.

—------------------------------

The memory faded and you were staring at the window when you caught movement. It was too late as the shriek met your ears and you crashed to the floor as it attacked. You panicked, kicking at the deadhead that had gotten the drop on you. You scrambled back as your back hit the wall. The kick didn’t have much of an impact other than giving you a couple seconds to react. 

You grabbed an IV pole and swung it at the deadhead, disorienting it for another couple seconds. You swung the pole again but missed causing the window behind you to shatter. It charged again and pushed you against the now broken window causing shards of glass to cut into your back. You cried out as the pain radiated through your back and up your spine.

You slipped down some more making bigger gashes in your back, but it gave you leverage. You were able to topple the deadhead out the window and soon a thudding sound from below. The deadhead lay motionless and you realized the sun was an hour away from sunset. Ghost would leave you behind soon you had to get moving, but not before taking care of your wounds. You pulled out some bandaging material and wrapped yourself up to help staunch the bleeding. 

Then you started making your way to the stairs when you noticed a hoodie draped on the back of a chair at the nurses station. You picked it up, putting it on and heading up to the roof where Ghost was waiting. “What happened?”, he groused. “I had to take care of some deadheads”, you replied. You knew you should have told him about your injuries, but you both needed to head out of the city before it got dark. 

“Where did you get a duffle bag from?”, you questioned, noticing the new item. “Found it in one of the supply rooms looks like someone had the same idea you did”, he supplied. You both made it back out of the city and to the house Josie and Jack had occupied. Ghost showed his duffle bag and pack both were a lot more than what you thought you would get. Your pack added to that would sustain the base as long as no one got severely injured or sick.

Jack waddled up to you as you were eating an MRE and reached a hand towards your spoon. “Jack no sweetheart that’s not yours”, Josie scolded. “It’s okay I don’t mind sharing”, you smiled. You gave him a spoonful of the mashed potatoes and he ate them happily. You continued to share spoonfuls of your food with him until he waddled over to Ghost. You were shocked when he handed Jack some of his apples he had cut up. 

It was getting late and you all lay down to sleep except Ghost who kept watch to make sure none of the deadheads had followed. He watched as you turned over onto your stomach with a grimace on your face until you settled again. He had to admit, you had intrigued him since you fought him when he had put a knife to your throat. He was also impressed with how loyal you had been to watch over Soap.

He was beginning to take a liking to you and that could be dangerous, but he hated to admit that he liked it. After another half hour without any contact he made a space and fell asleep. You jolted awake by a hand shaking you. It was Josie and she was visibly terrified as she pointed to the windows. There were deadheads passing by but they hadn’t noticed any of you inside yet. “Don’t move and be ready in case we need to bolt”, you told her. You army crawled over to Ghost making sure to move slowly.

You gently nudged him and he woke eyes finding yours. “There are dead outside, they haven’t noticed us yet”, you hushed. “Grab your gear, we bug out if they notice us”, he replied. You all moved quietly and noticed that there was sunlight starting to come through the trees. Ghost made sure everyone was ready. As soon as he opened the door it alerted the dead. 

Their shrieks and groans spurred the three of you into action as you booked it in the opposite direction of the base. When you looked behind you there were at least fifty in the herd of grotesque flesh. Some newer and some that had been decomposing for a long time. “We gotta’ keep moving until we lose' em”, Ghost relayed. 

It didn’t hit you until you realized if you continued in this direction it would take you a day and a half to reach the small town you and Kane had lived in. You relayed this to Ghost since there weren’t many options for you all. He agreed as no one stopped even when the dead fell behind. Josie was starting to lag slightly as she was carrying Jack so you offered to carry him for a time to give her a break. 

The four of you traveled all day and night not stopping unless it was absolutely necessary. Sleep and exhaustion was nagging at everyone except Ghost it seemed. Jack, even being carried, could sleep, but Ghost didn’t seem to tire at all. It made you wonder if he was even one-hundred percent human. The pain in your back from the injuries you sustained wasn’t helping anything as you started falling behind.

Ghost looked at you as if you were under a microscope of scrutiny. It’s like he knew you had been lying to him about being alright earlier. You pushed yourself to keep up and once daylight hit again you realized the clouds that were rolling in. Traveling straight over the mountains had made the trip shorter than you expected because down below was the town. 

The town was bringing back more memories than you were ready for, but it looked like the town was deadhead free. Right as you reached the street with the house you and Kane used to live in, the sky had darkened to an eerie atmosphere. Flashes of lightning whipped across the sky as the thunder was deafening. You had just made it onto the two story log cabin porch when the sky let a torrential downpour reign the surrounding area. 

Once inside Ghost cleared the house to make sure it was safe. “Well at least we have shelter from the rain”, Josie said as she put Jack down. You quickly went to the mud room to gather up firewood and kindling for the open fireplace. It took a few minutes to get the fire roaring and knock off the chill. “We need to board up these windows”, Ghost announced. “We have some old boards in the shed out back I’ll help you”, you confirmed. 

Two hours later and everyone was calmly sitting on sofas near the fire. “Ya know it’s nice to have a little normalcy like nothing's wrong outside”, Josie mused. “That kind of thinkin’ gets people killed”, Ghost commented. You looked at him as he took stock of all the supplies. “The MRE’s are almost gone, we won't ‘ave enough to sustain us for the trip back”, he sighed. “I think I can help with that too”, you smiled while going to the kitchen. 

Ghost followed behind you as you moved a rug to show an old trap door. You grabbed an old lamp and lit the wick taking the stairs down. When you reached the bottom, Ghost's eyes went wide. The whole cellar was stocked full of non-perishable items. “Guess you could say we were prepared”, you smiled. You both took several items up the stairs and grabbed some cast iron skillets and pots from the kitchen. You cooked all the food that had been brought up and once everyone was full it was time for bed. 

After making sure the front, back and mud room doors were secured you showed everyone the rooms they could take. With your old room going to Josie and Jack with Ghost taking the guest room that left one. Kane’s room was just how you had left it all those years ago, but you couldn’t bring yourself to sleep in there. Not with all the memories that had been made there. Taking a blanket and pillow you headed down to the couch. Every hour you got up to put more wood on the fire.

Ghost came down right before sun up meaning Josie and Jack were still asleep. “I want to know why you all were out and how Kane died”, Ghost spoke. “I told you why and how already”, you replied. “Ya’ said you all were goin’ for supplies, but you ‘ad plenty of food ‘ere so what supplies were you after”, he persisted. “We were trying to find a battery for the old truck in the neighbors barn about two miles down that field in the back”, you relented. “We thought if we could get it running we could scavenge easier and find some ammo, but it proved to be a fatal mistake”, you explained. 

“I was able to scavenge the battery, but the ammo was a bust. When I got back here I couldn’t bring myself to fix the damn truck”, you sniffled. “You were more than just friends with ‘im”, he said, but it sounded like a statement. You only nodded as Ghost said something about using the truck to get back to base. Josie came flying down the stairs with Jack startling you. “He’s here”, she lamented.

“What?”, you asked, but then a banging and a man yelling from the front door. “I know you’re in there Josie, you're coming back home so Jack can have plenty of brothers and sisters”, he growled. “You can’t let me or Jack go back there please. I don’t want to be a brood mare for that monster”, she said through her sobs. “Hurry, come with me and don’t make a sound no matter what you hear, okay”, you told her. 

You quickly led them to the kitchen lifting up the trap door ushering them downstairs. You closed the trap door and placed the heavy rug back over it when the front door finally gave way. A scruffy dirty man in his thirties holding a rifle walked in locking eyes with you. “Who the fuck are you and why are you in my house”, you hissed. “Where is my wife and son?”, he bellowed. “I’m the only one here. You’re more than welcome to search the house if you like then you fucking leave”, you seethed. 

He tore through the house screaming for Josie and Jack, but when he didn’t find them he came back to you. He was seething with rage, “I know they were here now where did they run to”. “I’m telling you I’m the only one here, and I haven’t seen another human being in months”, you growled. “Fine if she won’t come back I’ll just start fresh”, he chuckled. Then before you had time to react he hit you in the head with his rifle.

When you woke up you were in Kane’s room on his bed. You tried to put your hand on your head where you had been hit when you noticed your hands had been tied to the corners of the bed. Then you noticed your ankles had been tied to the bed too and you were completely naked with a leather belt in your mouth as a makeshift gag. You thrashed and tried to yell out when movement at the end of the bed startled you. 

It was Josie’s so-called husband stripped down, and you could tell by the way he stroked himself what was about to happen. “Since Josie has decided to run off without giving my son back I’ll have to make another one it seems”, he laughed. You thrashed even harder as he climbed over top of you and slapped your face. “Now be good, I know it probably won’t take on the first try, but I intend to keep you in this bed until I know you’re good and pregnant”, he huffed. You headbutted him and he backhanded you hard enough you tasted blood. 

He pushed his underwear down and off then settled between your spread legs. You screamed as he pushed into you laughing at your pain. “You’ll learn to like it. I know I will”, he groaned. You started sobbing as he continued his sadistic fantasy. You were able to get the gag out of your mouth and lunging forward you bit him hard and pulled. Blood filled your mouth as you spit out the chunk of flesh you took out of him. 

He punched you right in the face and it dazed you so badly you didn’t realize he started thrusting again. “You fucking bitch I’ll keep you tied up forever if that’s how you want to act”, he bellowed. Your back was bleeding from the scab wounds from the window at the hospital. You wailed as he continued, but it was soon interrupted by a loud crash. There standing in the doorway was Ghost and you could tell he was boiling over in rage. 

“What the…” the man said, but was cut off when Ghost pulled him off you. He was seeing red as he continued to hit the man into unconsciousness. When he pulled back to make sure the fucker was still breathing he turned to you noticing the blood on the sheets. “Oh love”, he soothed. He pulled out one of his knives and cut you free as you curled in on yourself sobbing. He grabbed a blanket and wrapped you in it and pulled you to his chest.

You cried for what felt like hours until Ghost asked about the blood. “I cut my… back on a window back at… the hospital. The scabs came…off”, you hiccuped. You were trying to stay focused on anything other than what had just happened. “Josie and Jack they’re…”, you said. “They're safe. Josie was the one that told me he was here”, he told you, petting your hair. You didn’t know why, but Ghost felt so safe at this moment and you were afraid if he let you go this would all disappear and that man would still be over you.

“Can I take a look at your back? Don’t want it gettin’ infected”, he hushed. You nodded and let the blanket slip down to reveal the damage that had been done. “Let me bandage ya’ up then we can get ya’ some clothes”, he whispered. You felt like a puppet afraid of its strings being cut rendering it broken without being near Ghost. He was like a rock that steadied you in a turbulent wind. He quickly patched you up then took you to your old room to find your old clothes. 

Once dressed he took you downstairs where Josie and Jack sat. You could tell Josie had been crying no doubt knowing what happened to you. He sat you down beside her and she instantly pulled you into her and Jack as she apologized again and again through her tears. Ghost came down the stairs dragging the man that he had now tied up. “I’ll be next door in the vacant house if ya’ need me”, he said. 

“What are you going to do to him?”, you asked. “I’m gonna’ make ‘im suffer nice and slow”, Ghost calmly stated. That's all you needed to hear as he dragged him out the now broken door. It didn’t take too long when Ghost came back looking over your face noticing the blood on your mouth. “Where is the blood from?”, he asked. “I bit a chunk out of him”, you murmured. You could have swore you saw a slight smirk under the mask. He made sure that none of the hits you took to your face broke any bone which he concluded didn’t

Ghost fixed a makeshift door and nailed boards in front of it to keep anything from getting in. No one went upstairs that night as everyone settled around the fire. Josie made a meal, but you didn’t feel like eating which Ghost understood. He knew it was going to take you a while before you were back on your feet. It was unfortunate because he needed you level headed for his plan tomorrow. You curled into a ball on the small loveseat as Ghost lay in front of it. 

You woke a couple times crying and wailing while Ghost sat there and held your hand. He wasn’t used to this, but he knew that you needed him and as much as he usually hated this type of interaction for you he would do whatever it took to be there for you. After your fifth time waking he pulled you down to the floor with him and let you curl into his side. As you slept he could see the bruises on your now marred face, and vowed he was going to make that man suffer for as long as it took you to heal.

[the-radio-demon-blog]

Good evening, Alastor! We're having a tropical depression here. Can't complain, really. The worst of it went to the Gulf coast, I think.

I'm eating hush puppies right now. You're a good (not literally HAH) southern boy, thought you'd appreciate that.

You are correct! Can confirm, having been a teenage girl myself, their interests are mocked frequently. It doesn't end there. Idk if you are aware of how women are mocked for something as simple as liking pumpkin spice flavored things? Just as a minor example. Don't get me started. It's a Monday and I will go on a tirade about 'the Pink Tax' just for starters. And no one here wants to read all that. Haha. I am small and filled with unending rage.

Yep, the original Indy movies take place in the 30s and the third one is WW2 40s. The second one is...rather unfortunate, yes. You might rather like the parts where they eat brains and eyeballs and such though. And when they remove the still beating hearts from people! Hah.

How was the gator? Did you find the prize inside? Lol. Did you make anything from it or just...devour it?

I think I may try sending a picture whenever we chat...so...

I've started decorating my house for Spooky season. How do you like the wreath I made year before last? I'm not terribly crafty, but I was pleased with how it turned out.

https://imgur.com/a/jutQs2e

After while, crocodile 🐊

Well, I heard the hurricane is moving up the East Coast unfortunately.

Oh my, hush puppies! Why I totally forgot about those tasty little treats. They're rather good, aren't they?

Yes, I'm afraid that is all a part of misogyny. Hating on the things that women and especially what young girls like, romance books about vampires and trivial things of the like. However perhaps it is better I do not start talking all about it since I in retrospect truly know nothing. I'm a man and I can only go by the experiences of the women in my life. And I believe it would be rather inappropriate for me as a man to have a comment on misogyny since I am not the one experiencing it.

Well, that sounds slightly exciting! Most movies of that time do play into racial stereotypes but I've heard that it does especially lean into that stereotypes. And its rather dark story. However I've heard great things about Raiders of the Lost Ark and the Last Crusade. Movie night is tonight so I shall tell you (if you'd like) how it was!

Stanley was disappointed he couldn't eat the alligator which is rather concerning yet understandable! Hah! It seems he's a cannibal like me! I actually feed him the little trinket in there: the arm. Stanley loved it!

You're not terribly crafty? Darling, its a gorgeous wreath! I myself can't wait for the spooky season to arrive! Everyone in the Hotel loves it and its really the only holiday we can celebrate. Christmas and Easter are obviously off the table. However Charlie...well, made her own special version of Christmas.

See you later, my dear, alligator!

[queeniecook]

June 10

Things had been quiet since the baby shower for Vera and Aubree. It was also the last time Jillian got to see Dakota in person. To touch his skin, to smell his scent. To feel his body heat. They’ve kept in touch via phone calls, text messages and video chats, but it isn’t the same. Sometimes, you just crave another person’s presence.

Jillian is enjoying her part-time job at the bookstore, though she misses the one back in Brindleton Bay. Andrew has been working on getting his grades up in summer school. Her Mom has been trying to put some more homey touches on the house. It’s one of the things about moving around so much that make it hard – not having those homey touches. Her family didn’t move around like this when she was younger and it makes Jillian worry about her little brother. He’s not able to really put down roots like she was able to do.

Her father goes to work everyday – she’s been checking with his co-workers behind his back, sneaky but necessary – and he comes home most nights at a decent time.

But not tonight.

Jillian tracked him down at a tavern in the next small town over. He was passed out on the bar, she had a heck of a time getting him to her car but the bar tender helped her thankfully.

“You need to support more of your weight, Dad.” She mumbles in annoyance to him. He perks up a little and tries at least. She can’t believe she’s having to do this. Thankfully Andrew had wanted to go to a movie and Denise went with him, so they wouldn’t be home to see her dragging in the man of the house.

After Jillian manages to unlock the front door and deposit her Dad on the couch, she lectures him.

“What were you thinking??? What if I hadn’t tracked you down, were you going to spend the night in your car in the bar parking lot??” She questions him, she’s mad and even though it’s been clear that her Dad has a problem for a while, she still doesn’t understand. Joey has even tried to help her understand but she doesn’t, maybe it’s because until this past year, she had always seen her Dad as her hero. 

“Stop it!” Garrett yells, something he rarely does – whether it’s at this kids or his wife. “I’m…I’m the parent! Not you!” 

Jillian just sits there, staring him down. She isn’t used to her Dad yelling and it stings a bit. “Maybe you should start acting like it then.”

“Leave me awone.” His mumbles after a few moments, slurring a little. Oddly enough, most of his brief tirade had been clear. 

“This problem isn’t going away, Dad. It’s just going to get worse.” She tells him before rising from her perch on the side of the couch. Her Dad mutters something she can’t make out and doesn’t want to. She leaves him on the couch, calling her Mom.

~A hour later

Garrett is asleep on the couch, while Mother and Daughter have a chat in Jillian’s bedroom. Denise arranged for Andrew to spend the night at one of his friend’s houses.

“He yelled at you?” Denise asks her only daughter “And was passed out on the bar?”

Jillian nods. She had explained what happened to her Mom. “I think we might have to do an intervention.”

Denise absently plays with her hair, she had seen a lot of those on TV and never thought she’d actually have to partake in one.

“I can talk to Dakota and Joey. They might have an idea of how to go about it…” Jillian trails off with a sigh. 

“We’re going to have to and he’s going to rehab. I’m done handling this situation with kiddy gloves and hoping it gets better. I love you father dearly, he’s the one for me but I won’t sit by any longer and watch him possibly ruin our family and deep down, I know he doesn’t want that to happen.” Denise states, finding a resolve she didn’t know she has until this moment. 

Her Mom goes to the bedroom she normally shares with her Dad as Jillian goes into the bathroom to brush her teeth, she feels a sudden bout of nauseous hit her.

She figures it’s nerves, thankfully she hadn’t brushed her teeth yet and is able to get the taste of puke out of her mouth before bed.

[miscmonstro]

The Uno Reverse Adoption Saga 8

AO3 Link: here

First: Chapter 1

Previous: Chapter 7

Next: Chapter 9

Current Characters: Sam Manson, Tucker Foley, Danny Fenton, Jason Todd

Summary: Forced to attend a gala by her parents as she is every year, Sam Manson was resigned to suffer through the stifling three-night gala until something pulled at her core. The something turned out to be a someone. Just who is Jason Todd and can the trio gain enough of his trust to help him before his struggling proto-core collapses?

warnings: 1) the picture Jason sees at the end not super graphic but still it is of the trio's deaths. It starts at "Several states away" and as it's the last paragraph or so there is nothing after it. 2) you aren't supposed to do the psychology thing on friends/family, it's not ethical. Also Jazz's approach is not what a psychologist is supposed to do but… extenuating circumstances and fanficition.

👻 {Chapter 8 Below!)

“You didn’t eat anything.”

The trio were sitting at the small rickety table at Jason’s behest, and at the moment, the person in question was looking through the fridge. 

The half ghosts all shared a look. 

“We were tired. Went straight to sleep, pretty much,” Sam said. 

Tucker wished he had decided to sleep. He didn’t feel the consequences of his actions, not while in ghost form, but he knew the minute he turned human he’d be out like a light. 

He’d probably do that when he got home. If nothing else, sleep would disrupt the echoes of Jazz’s shrill tirade and worried questions still bouncing around his skull. Sam, who had dealt with Jazz last time and Danny, who couldn’t escape her worrying in any case, were not sympathetic. 

Feeling perturbed, Jason huffed and closed the fridge door with a little more force than necessary. 

“What’s up?” Tucker asked. 

“I’m sorry. I- fuck.” Jason ran a hand through his hair. He glanced to them. “I’m sorry. I have almost no food. I’ll have to run to the store.”

“I can do it,” Danny offered. He rose out of his seat and towards the door. “You should take a quick nap.”

Jason raised a brow.

“Don’t think the corner store takes ghost bucks, kid.”

Danny just smirked and let his transformation rings engulf him, leaving a human in place of the ghost. He dropped to the floor and pulled out his wallet. “I’ve got cash.”

Jason tensed for a moment, then let it go with a gusty exhale. “Phantom, Gotham isn’t safe. You’ll get mugged.”

“I can handle myself,” Danny replied. “And did you just dead name me?”

Sam groaned. Tucker did too and then let his head hit the table. 

“I- what?” Jason sputtered, doing a double take. 

Danny’s face split into a shit eating grin. “Because that’s my ghost name? My dead name? Get it?” 

“Get out of here,” Tucker complained, voice muffled by the wood.

Danny laughed and bolted out the door before Jason could muster a response. 

👻 {Boo!)

It wasn’t long before Danny returned with an armful of groceries, passing straight through the door as to not wake Jason, who Sam and Tucker had cajoled into “closing his eyes for ten minutes”. He handed the bags off to Tucker, who was the best at cooking of the three of them, and switched back into his ghost form. Tucker grumbled on principle but pulled out the contents of the bags. Sam floated over to help but he shooed her away.

“You’re going to throw out the bacon,” he sniffed.

Sam didn’t bother trying to deny it.

Danny wandered over to the couch as the two began to bicker. Jason was sitting with his arms crossed and head tilted to the side. His breathing was even and deep; peaceful and asleep. 

He didn’t want to leave Jason at the mercy of a random ghost. He wished they didn’t have to go back so soon. 

“It’ll be a miracle if your parents haven’t noticed,” Tucker said in response to the thought.

“Yeah well. It’ll be a miracle if your parents don’t ground you,” Danny replied. “You can’t be grounded on Christmas.” 

“I told them I was staying over at a friend’s. S’good as long as I get back before nine.”

Sam looked at the microwave and squinted. “What time zone is Gotham in again?”

“We’re an hour ahead here so it’s six back home,” said Danny, making his way to the kitchen. 

Amity time: six hours two minutes thirty seven seconds fourteen milliseconds, Tucker absently supplied as he flipped a hashbrown. 

Sam noted that they’d need to leave after breakfast as she wordlessly handed Danny a knife and a vague impression of apples. Seeing an opportunity to practice his telekinesis, Danny eyed the bag with the apples thoughtfully. 

“Do that on the other side,” Tucker instructed, turning his legs into a tail and sweeping the bag across the kitchen. In his mind’s eye he saw haywire apples raining down on his poor hashbrowns. Danny chuckled and obliged, sliding the bag farther and onto the edge of the carpet outside of the kitchen before he started practicing.

Sam rolled her eyes and pulled out a drawer to get another knife. The serrations on the blade were more dramatic and were probably not meant for fruit, but it would get the job done. Snatching the fruit Danny wasn’t using, she got to cutting them into little uneven pieces. 

Cooking breakfast after late night escapades had become a small tradition of theirs. It had started way back when Jazz had suggested they find a way to destress together their first year as halfas and had spiraled from there. They tended to overcook, though it had never been an issue; it had the bonus of feeding a very exhausted Jazz, producing leftovers for themselves and an extremely overworked Valerie, and now giving an obviously worn Jason some much needed fuel.

Tucker was a storm in the shape of a chef. He made scrambled eggs and bacon and hashbrowns and biscuit sandwiches. Eventually he did relent and let the other two near the stove. Danny made pancakes and Sam made breakfast potatoes.

(Tucker hadn’t always been an enthusiastic cook. It was something he started after the whole Duulaman thing.

Royalty didn’t cook.

It was a moot point anyway.) 

They set the table with the paper plates Danny had picked up when Sam realized the cabinets were mostly empty. Paper would degrade but plastic wouldn’t so Danny had resigned himself to making utensils out of his ice. Sam appreciated it. 

“Should we wake him?”

“Nah,” Tucker thought, “he was up all night. He needs the sleep.”

“He’s sleeping awfully well for someone hosting three ghosts,” Sam said.

“Oh. Maybe it’s a ghostling thing?”

Danny tuned in at the mention of ghostlings. “Ghm?”

The other two snorted. “Of course that gets your attention,” Sam dryly said.

“Yeah. I’ve been thinking… what if there is an emergency or something? I could give him my number, but even at top speed it’d take me a hot minute to get here from Amity. So, I think I should ask CW after the truce if he could send me back here.”

“Dude,” Tucker said first. “Maybe?”

He wasn’t confident. Don’t get him wrong- Clockwork was powerful, and he hadn’t steered them wrong, but the problem was that the solution was never obvious. He also didn’t trust the master of time to not add a few obstacles and side missions. He had before, and for no discernible reason.

Sam agreed. “I can’t change back anyway,” she said, mentally building up to what she was about to propose.

“So I guess… I can let him hold onto my camera.”

Danny almost froze the table in surprise. Tucker dropped the syrup and barely caught it.

“Sam?!” he exclaimed, slightly horrified.

Outwardly, she scoffed and seemed unperturbed. But they all shared a headspace; they couldn’t really hide from each other. The boys knew how disgusting the mere thought of parting with her camera felt.

“We’ll find a different way,” Danny said firmly.

“It’s fine.”

“Liar.”

Sam huffed and pulled the camera over her head. “I’ll feel it if he’s in trouble, and I can use it to get here in seconds, unlike you. Besides, it's not like I’m using it.” 

“Sam, you can’t just like… do that,” protested Tucker, clutching his PDA tight in one hand.

Her stubborn resolve was her answer. 

They stewed in silence for a bit. Danny tried and failed to think of a better solution and Tucker didn’t do any better.

“We should get Jason up,” he thought at last. “The food is getting cold.”

Danny more than happily began poking the sleeping man with the tip of his tail. Jason grunted and opened a bleary eye. 

“Breakfast,” Danny said.

“Yeah, in a minute,” Jason grumbled, standing slowly and stretching. 

Danny corralled their stumbling, half asleep host to the table. Jason only blinked as Danny all but sat him at the table. The lights were on, but nobody was home.

Tucker passed a plate of eggs. Over the next few minutes Jason became more alert.

“You kids made breakfast?” he asked, taking another spoon of eggs. “How long was I out?”

“Not long,” Tucker said. 

“Mmm.”

“Yeah. We have to hurry though. We need to head out soon,” Danny added, skewering his potatoes.

That got Jason’s attention. He sat up straighter and surveyed the three. “Where will you go?”

“Our haunt. We need to get back,” Sam explained. 

Jason paused. “Er… do I have a… haunt?”

“No, not yet. Don’t worry, once you grow up you’ll be strong enough to claim a haunt,” assured Danny.

Jason didn’t outwardly react but he didn’t seem to like the idea. 

“Our haunt’s Amity,” Tucker added. “Lots of ghosts trespass and try to defeat us since that’s where the portals are.”

It was a bit of a white lie. Ghosts no longer come to cause mischief so much as they came to challenge Danny. 

Sam picked up on what Tucker was trying to do- reassure Jason that his life wouldn’t be totally uprooted. “Haunts can be in the living world. They don’t have to be in the zone.”

That didn’t seem to reassure him.

Sam cleared her throat, which suddenly felt tight. 

“So,” she drawled, thankful she didn’t need to breathe like this and therefore her breath wouldn’t hitch, “we were thinking. A lot can go wrong in a day, never mind a few, and we do need to leave. So… here.” She thrust the camera at him with a little more force than necessary. The strap swung in an arc and almost knocked over the salt shaker. “This camera is a part of me. If you’re in danger, click the button on the top, the one that takes pictures on normal cameras. I’ll be here in a heartbeat.”

“Be careful with it,” Danny instructed as Jason gingerly took the spectral camera. “This is the ghostly equivalent of someone chopping off a hand and handing it to you, except we don’t lose our connection with severed body parts.”

Jason poked the camera. “You can feel that?”

Sam shrugged. “More or less.” 

Jason put the camera on the table. 

“Uh-uh,” Tucker said sternly. “That’s Mane’s camera. Keep it on you.”

Jason rolled his eyes and then lopped the camera around his neck.

It felt a lot less awful than they were expecting. Tucker once again chalked it up to Jason being an unclaimed orphan- he didn’t have much of a core to contest Sam’s essence.

They finished eating (read: watching Jason eat) and then the trio said a quick goodbye. If they didn’t move quickly then they might not end up moving at all.

Jason seemed alarmed by their insistence to bolt. 

“How are you kids even going to get back?” he asked pointedly. 

“We’ll just… get there. Fly, you know,” Danny said vaguely. 

Eventually they went invisible and moved to the guest room where they pulled out the map. Danny inhaled, found the nearest portal, linked arms with Tucker and Sam, and then they were off.

👻 {Boo!)

“Danny.”

“Danny.”

“Danny!”

“What?” Danny asked crankily. He’d spent far too much time in the zone preparing his lair for the truce party and Jason’s checkup. 

Jazz stuck her hands on her hips.

“You’re moping,” she accused. 

There was a crash from downstairs. Jack bellowed something about getting his trap operational before tomorrow.

Christmas.

Danny harrumphed and crossed his arms. 

Truthfully, Christmas wasn’t the only thing bothering him. Jazz, who had clearly picked up on this, gave him the snooty older sister look. As if she could read his mind she amended, “More than usual. What’s wrong?”

Well, Jazz always found out sooner rather than later. 

“I want to be a dad?”

His voice cracked as if to mock him and he winced.

“Oh Danny,” Jazz began, setting a hand on his shoulder, “wanting to be a parent is-“

“Wait,” he interrupted with a bout of irritation, ducking out from and under her arm. “I didn’t even finish Jazz.”

She made a ‘go on’ motion with her hands.

Danny sighed and began pacing.

“So, I’m almost an adult human but I’ve been an adult ghost. And there’s, uh, there’s a ghostling. Except he’s part human too? So I want to adopt him, all the ghost urges are there and they’re driving me insane. But like, at the same time he’s an adult man. He totally adults better than me. Like he’s gotta be in his thirties or something.”

“You sound worried,” Jazz pointed out with a poker face that might’ve fooled someone else. 

“Sam gave him her camera so we’d know if he was in trouble but not even two hours after we left, he took it off! For hours! Anything could’ve happened in that time.”

From Jazz’s expression, Danny knew she’d be psychoanalyzing that statement for a while. 

“And why does that matter?”

“Jazz-“

“Danny.”

“Ugh! It’s a ghost thing. Everyone will want to adopt him. But he obviously has a life and stuff, but if he wants his core to stabilize he needs a parent. He’s like, ghost skin and bones Jazz.”

Jazz frowned. “This has more to do with concepts of autonomy and enculturation… I don’t think eating disorders apply here.”

Danny grumbled and pivoted to cross the room again. 

There was a deep, rumbling boom and the house shook. 

“What do you think about being a parent?”

“I can’t let another ghost take him,” Danny said promptly. “They will forget to take care of his human needs. He needs someone who won’t be confused or forgetful of his human side.”

Jazz nodded. “Hm. Is he a halfa?”

Danny almost tripped. 

“No,” he denied vehemently. “He can’t be.”

“And you know that for sure?”

“Well… no.”

“Would it change anything if he was?”

Danny didn’t respond for three minutes. He never answered the question.

“So what’s the verdict?”

Jazz pinched the bridge of her nose. “Firstly, this is your reminder that this is unethical. Secondly, your obsession is mingling with your usual desire to help people. Because of their status being similar to yours, you feel responsible… this is on top of your regular ghost biology urging you. You’re afraid of what a human-ghost child implies and don’t want to think about it. You’re especially afraid of what a halfa child implies. So, is this something Vlad did?”

“We can’t discount it, but we’re not going to confront him about it either. Even if it’s something he did, we don’t want him to know we know. But… we talked it over. It’s unlikely with what we know right now.”

Which, admittedly, wasn’t much.

Jazz nodded. The sounds of bullets and blasters echoed, as did the cheerfully vengeful voice of their mother declaring the new system operational. 

“So, like, enculturation,” Danny said in response to a faint nudge from Sam, biting his lip. “Being a ghost is overwhelming.”

“Make a list of things you wish someone had told you at first,” Jazz suggested. “And maybe things that took you a while to get the hang of. And remember- children are naturally not going to be as capable as adults. They’re developing. That skill gap will be frustrating for someone who’s used to managing themselves.”

“A list?” Danny mused. Did they even have the original ghost idea list anymore?

“Think school subjects. History, biology, science, economy, government. The things that we learn in school are basically enculturation.”

“So ghost history, ghost biology, ghost science, ghost economy. Got it.”

“And ghost government.”

Danny rubbed his neck and avoided eye contact. 

“Danny,” Jazz said, voice laced with reprimand, “he knows you’re the king, right? You weren’t going to adopt a baby ghost and introduce him to the zone without planning to explain the governing bodies, right?”

“But Tucker hates being called a helpmate,” Danny blurted. 

Tucker, in fact, could not care less. 

Jazz looked at him flatly.

Danny hunched and glared at his sister. She glared right back and crossed her arms.

“Well, I think you ought to tell him but it is your decision. I just think it’s a stupid one.”

“Gee, thanks.” Danny rolled his eyes. “And I was gonna tell him, just… later.”

Jazz glared for a moment more and then relented. “Alright. An important part of parenthood is clear communication about important issues that can affect your family dynamic.”

Then they both cringed. 

(Danny was going to tell his parents… just not now.)

“Wait,” Danny said, the implication of her words finally registering, “you’re not going to talk me out of it?”

“Do I think it’s a good idea? No,” Jazz said bluntly. “But I think that the other option is far worse.”

👻 {Boo!)

On Christmas morning the three woke to an echoed itchiness originating from Sam.

That was not an uplifting omen.

“What the hell is he doing to my camera,” she hissed.

Danny reached for it through Sam and held still for a moment.

“… I think he’s looking through it.”

“That feels about right,” Tucker said.

“Huh,” Sam muttered. “Well, that won’t look bad at all. Nothing suspicious about a collection of carcasses.”

Sam’s camera, after the accident, had begun to only capture dead things. It was usually the thing that’d died most recently in the camera view but if Sam focused, she could narrow the parameters. They’d helped solve more than a few old cold cases by filtering the photographs for human remains.

Very unsuspicious. 

Tucker hissed. 

“I hope he doesn’t go look at all of them.”

The very first picture was the worst. 

All ghosts were sensitive to their deaths, even halfas. It was hard enough being in the lab sometimes, never mind looking at that accursed first picture.

Still, none of them had been able to convince themselves to delete it.

Several states away, Jason Todd looked down at the little camera display, the younger contorted and screaming face of Tucker’s flickering form in full view. In a tunnel behind him, just past a wave of green, Danny was suspended, back arched and face equally pained. Engulfed in dazzlingly bright energy, his mouth was stretched wide open. He was screaming too.

The hand, half dissolving as it reached toward the dying boys, could only have belonged to Sam. 

👻 {Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.)

Taglist time! If you want to be added, just say so!

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Next week: Amity! It's a nice place to live…

Jason POV :3

Next: Chapter 9

[drabbles-mc]

Long Fuckin' Year

Carmy Berzatto & Richie Jerimovich

Warnings: 18+, language, angst, talks of grief/mourning

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: It's the worst week of the year for me and I'm just trying to muddle through it the best I can. Sibling grief really is something.

The Bear Taglist: @garbinge @ashlingnarcos @narcolini @hausofmamadas @withmyteeth @darqchilddaydreamz @justreblogginfics (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

He’d been on more of a warpath than usual as the days went on. Everyone understood it, of course. That was always the thing—they all got it. It didn’t mean that they loved being on the receiving end of his tirades and angry hand gestures, but at least they knew where it was coming from. There was something to be said for that.

The restaurant wasn’t even close to open and he was already yelling like they were knee-deep in a Friday night dinner service. Everyone was in their own lane, doing their own prep. He was there because he had to be, because it was his restaurant. And it was really his restaurant now. Gone were the days when he could say that it was Mikey’s place that just got dumped on his lap.

That fact was fucking with his head too, on top of everything else.

“God fucking dammit!” he snapped as he went to pull open the desk drawer in the office and it jammed.

“What?” Richie poked his head around the corner, expecting Carmy’s yell to be followed by a crash, or more of an explanation that never came.

“The, the fuckin’ drawers on this shit,” he slammed his hand against the drawer that wouldn’t open, “never fuckin’—”

Without a word Richie reached and gently pulled the top middle drawer of the desk out just slightly. There was the quietest click as he did so, and then he calmly reached and pulled open the drawer that Carmy hadn’t been able to get.

“Shit locks ‘em all,” Richie explained, making sure to keep his tone even.

Carmy wished that Richie had come back with something shitty and sarcastic. It would’ve been easier to make a fight out of it that way, and he could really use a fight with Richie right about now. It’d been a long time since their last knock-down-drag-out and it was fucked up to say that they were overdue for it, but Carmy felt like his brain was starting to smolder at the edges, red starting to creep into the corners of his vision.

“Yea, I fuckin’,” he shook his head and ran his hands back through the mess of his hair, “I fuckin’ see that, Richie, thank you.”

Richie took a deep breath. He wanted to snap right back—Carmy had a habit of making it so easy for him to do that. But he was tying to be better. Even in moments like this when all he wanted to do was drag Carmy outside by his greasy little curls, he was trying to be better. So he kept his mouth shut instead.

Since he wasn’t getting what he was looking for from Richie, Carmy started flipping through the folders of paperwork that he had originally gone into the office to look through in the first place. Truth be told, he’d completely forgotten what he had been looking for. It seemed so fucking important at the time but now he couldn’t remember it for the life of him. The inside of his brain was so goddamn loud and Richie was standing there looming over his shoulder and Mikey was dead and the world was still turning and the restaurant was still going to open for dinner service and now he couldn’t remember what fucking paperwork he needed.

He didn’t have it in him to say any of that though. He didn’t have the wherewithal to say what was wrong, or that he had completely drowned out his purpose in that moment and now he had no recollection of why he was there.

Instead, he slammed the drawer shut. “Fuck!” He shook his head. “Nothing. N-nothing is where it’s supposed to be. Why is all this shit turned around like this?” he asked as he paced the small area of the office.

Richie was the only one there but he was also very aware of the fact that Carmy wasn’t talking to him. And since Carmy wasn’t talking to him, what Richie said next had nothing to do with what Carmy had been ranting about.

“Yo, cousin,” Richie chose each word purposefully as he crossed his arms over his chest, “we got it here.”

Carmy’s brows instantly came together, confusion washing over his face. It was a change from the anger for the moment, at least. “What?”

Richie cleared his throat, a split second of hesitation like he knew that what he was about to say was going to go over like a lead fucking brick but he knew he had to say it anyway. “Syd, me, fuckin’, fuckin’ Tina. We got it here if you wanna…” he trailed off for a moment before gtting his resolve back and looking Carmy in the eyes to say, “Maybe you should head home, Bear.”

Anger instantly reappeared on Carmy’s face, entwining with the confusion even though he knew full-well exactly what Richie was talking about. “Fuck you, I should head home.”

“Carmy—”

“No!” he cut Richie short. “No. Don’t, don’t fuckin’ tell me what to do. Don’t tell me to go home, don’t tell me—just, just don’t.” He would’ve known even without looking at Richie what the expression on his face was, but he still looked anyway. Always the glutton for punishment. His voice was quieter, anger momentarily giving way to the sadness that was lurking beneath it. “I gotta be here. I, I, I just, I gotta be here.”

“You fuckin’ don’t, though.” In the years prior, the sentence would’ve come out mean, condescending even. But this time it came out like a reassurance, almost like a plea. Clearing his throat, Richie threw himself on the grenade and said, “It’s been a long fuckin’ year.”

Tears instantly welled in Carmy’s eyes. “Long fuckin’ year.”

“So go home,” Richie reiterated.

“To what?” Carmy snapped, exasperated. “To, to just be alone in my fuckin’ living room? No. No fuck that. It’s not, you know, it’s not like he’s gonna be there. He’s not,” he threw his arms up, gesturing to the office and surrendering to the reality of it all in one motion, “not fuckin’ here either.” He sniffed, shaking his head as he rested his hands on his hips, gaze dropping to the floor. “God dammit. Fuckin’ asshole, you know?”

Richie let out a quiet, sad laugh. “Yeah, I know.”

Carmy forced himself to look at Richie. “Why…how are you so…?” He made a vague gesture to Richie as a whole.

Richie chuckled quietly and shook his head. “I don’t know, cousin. In a couple hours maybe I’ll be a goddamn mess like you are.”

It got a real laugh out of Carmy, a short-lived one but it was something. “Fuck you.”

“Yeah, well,” Richie allowed himself a small smile, “fuck you too.”

Carmy pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes for a moment, wiping away the tears that were there and trying to force any new ones to go back into their hiding places. “I can’t go home, cousin.” He paused, hands dropping to his sides. “Don’t make me go home.”

“I’m not gonna make you do shit,” Richie said with a shrug. “But if it’s fuckin’ you up being here then—”

“Being anywhere is fuckin’ me up,” Carmy said, voice quieter than it had been but still laden with frustration. “Not, it’s not about where. It’s just that he’s…not.”

Richie nodded. “I know.”

“How do I fix that?” Carmy asked, earnest as he’d ever been.

“Got no fuckin’ idea.” Richie clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.” He watched Carmy for another minute more before asking, “You gonna…?”

Carmy shook his head. “I’m good. I’m gonna stay. Thanks. And, and I’m sorry.”

Richie nodded as he took a step back towards the office door. “Make sure you apologize to that fuckin’ desk, too.”

Carmy chuckled. “Right.” He watched as Richie backed all the way out of the office, leaving him alone for a moment to get himself together. He dragged his hands over his face, looking around the office like it was going to give him answers to questions that he hadn’t even put out into the universe yet. He looked over at the one pocket of wallspace that was still dedicated to Fenway, held together by Richie’s scotch tape surgery job and all. He sighed, muttering one more, “Right,” to himself before heading back out into the restaurant.

[sucrefemme]

I’m losing time again. Weeks worth. Had another nightmare the night after her funeral, worse than the rest, probably because I’d forgotten to take my meds. It didn’t really hit me until the funeral. I mean. Who waits this long for a funeral? She died in February, and last weekend we had our funeral, three months later.

I barely acknowledged it to myself in three months. I can say the words. I can say she’s dead. I can say my best friend died. But it doesn’t actually mean anything to me.

I didnt pay my last respects to the box of her ashes because I didn’t want to admit that she was in there. It was such a small box.

They used her least favorite photo of herself. The wind kept knocking it over but I don’t think that was her influence or anything. I think it was just wind.

The speaker was the worst part. She was a local yoga teacher, she used to be my yoga teacher, but my family totally stopped going to her studio after she declared that masks were dangerous in 2020. She basically played the part of a pastor at a normal funeral? But so, so much worse.

There are some key elements of Lily, the girl who passed, that are important to know. First off, she didn’t die peacefully or whatever. She died violently and by her own hand. Nobody seems to have told the yoga teacher that part. She kept talking about how Lily had gone through a beautiful spiritual transition. She talked about how we should all hope to reach at some point what she had reached. Yikes.

Lily also loved herself and her image so, so much. She didn’t do things that could get her dirty or mess with her perfectly manicured image. She loved to paint herself. She liked picnics on picnic blankets and walks on sidewalks. The yoga lady went on and on about how Lily loved nature, and now she’s one with nature, and she’s one with the earth that she so loved. She said Lily painted nature. She was fine with nature, but most of her favorite things were songs and foods and letters and trinkets. And she practically never painted “nature”. ALL of her art was of herself or about herself.

The yoga lady’s whole speech made me so mad and went on so long. I broke down when she was in a long tirade about Lily being freed from her earthly body and being returned to the earth. Not because of anything miss yoga was saying. The girl next to me, another close friend of Lily’s, leaned over and whispered “Lily isn’t in the flowers. She’s in the steam from my teapot.”

now I’m finally experiencing that loss. My best friend exists in pearls and teapot steam. She exists in dressing up to run simple errands. She exists in the sweet taste when you lick a stamp.

Lily was beautiful. She was romantic. She was loved by so many people, her funeral, even three months later, was standing room only. She was nineteen.

I honestly don’t know how to handle all this.

[selamat-linting]

what the fuck guys, i just had a dream where i meet an old guy and start making out with him in the desert. okay let me start from the beginning, we were, i guess in a sburb-ish game i think, where if we dont complete it we wont be able to go home, but there's no apocalypse, people just somehow knew what we're doing like the nonhuman characters who guide and watch the beta kids sburb session.

anyway, i think it devolved into some kind of weird factionalism since the players where thousands of ppl at first and ppl were dropping like flies and fighting each other. we were at the final stage of the game. this old guy has his soul split in two so me and my group decided to save him by splitting up to find his respective souls on different planets and guide him to see both of his selves again and reunite. i was accompanied by this one little girl. i think there was a debate over if this was worth the hassle because i remember we were attacked from something that came out of a random portal but i fought them off. and then we both started talking and i bravely put my butt in his lap and started saying how he's worth it just because he's himself and no matter what he does there will be people who is willing to put in the work to love and forgive him even if its difficult. and i dont care that its unfair and maybe even unhealthy because i love him. we love him. and i imply this other guy in our team would be some good for him as a couple because i love this other guy too but feel my parents wouldnt like him so i gave him up. i played with his hair, and the rest was history.

so anyway, after we spent the night together, held back from sex just because sand was everywhere, we finally met up with the other crew (why i was accompanied with a single child to hunt for him while this guy got a contingent of comrades is a mystery) and turns out this other dude that i had a crush on (he was slightly older than me i think) he actually fucked the older man. they went to a snowstorm planet as a five person group to save the man's soul and he actually made the effort to have sex with the guy in a secluded tent. i know this because once the old man fuse, i somehow gain the memory of my friend who fucked him and vice versa. dont ask me why, dream logic. and we both kinda stared in silent horror because we might have to consider polyamory and the hassle of introducing my friend to my parents because my parents does not understand polyamory the way we do and is racist. also we both conveniently remembered the guy we were both fucking has a wife. so we joke about how our life is fucked after winning the game, to the ignorance of our comrades.

anyway, flash forward, we were in a ship to finally do the last step to win and go home, when we realized there is a group of people dressing in white robes trying to do a human sacrifice ritual so their group can win and determine the prize, which now that i think about it, was the chance to built how our god who rules us will be like, would he be kind or rules with iron fist and all that. anyway, we know because one of the guys in that group finally betrayed them and rat them out for us. we all had this messy fight, and i was hurling them to this corner of the ship where i kept screaming that we will not use human sacrifices. i got hurt and fell down and i prayed that someone could finish them. well, the guy who betrayed his fundamentalist cult faction majorly did it, he manage to throw them out of the airlock, but he has his feet majorly burned. i was the one tasked to patch him up. he kept saying he's sorry while we're all huddled in the same small shitty storage room that was supposed to be our transport space ship

so i had this long tirade about how we have principles and we will not make people who made mistakes as expendable or whatever and i guess it digs into a core of my own feelings about religion, that for so long i was confused that themes of love acceptance and peacefulness in major religions are all commonplace but there's always exceptions and that its always reserved for ppl who dont believe, no matter how kind and good they are. there's always a group of demographic singled out to be born just for experiencing eternal torture or a target of justified hate. or how much of the major religion i saw revolved a lot with throwing people under the bus as necessary sacrifice for people in power in the name of faith, sometimes in a direct way, sometimes by asserting that some groups of people are just meant to be inferior or lower in the pecking order and they should have less options and opportunities just because. and that i said to this guy with the burned feet that if we're remaking a god, i want them to be free of that nonsense. anyway, while i was on my dream soapbox, i was gently bandaging this guy's feet in a horny way and tenderly cradling it and smiling at him like i want to add him to the polycule. i dont even have a feet fetish irl.

but worst of all, i dont recognize any faces in that dream. like all of them are strangers to me. but i have weird sexual relationships with at least three of them? wtf???? i have no idea how my dream got so intricate. i remember so much detail because it was so outrageous i HAVE to blog about just as i wake up. omggggg

[queenofbaws]

this week's sneak peeks under the cut!!! <3

like wringing blood from a stone

“Thing was, we didn’t know what was going on, and…Mike came real close to popping him with the gun he’d found in the sanatorium. He-he didn’t! But there was a second there—”

“You’re saying Mike had a gun?”

“I…well yeah. Like I said, he found it in the sanatorium.”

“And he almost shot this…Jack with it?”

“He…he’s not great at first impressions. Or second impressions, or…any. Any impressions. Look, that doesn’t matter! Point is, the guy barges in with this beast of a flamethrower on his back, and he’s in welding goggles, and-and-and this bandana that made it look like his teeth were freaking ginormous, and—”

“Could we stick to the series of events for the time being?”

Hartley’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “…he barges in and there’s this…moment. He has us all sit on the couch—me, Ash, Sam, Mike, Emily—and it’s already been the longest night of our lives, so we’re just…convinced this is about to be a hostage situation.”

Two words. Two words he’d heard Hartley say plenty of times before in that very same way, and yet this time, Travis found himself getting antsy. His eyes flicked to Kaylee’s face, expecting to see suspicion or fear or concern or understanding dawning there. All he saw was interest, though. Blind, childish awe at what was on the screen. She was rapt, same as he’d been the first time he’d watched the interviews the whole way through.

“Because, look, I-I-I’ll be honest. Uh. His grand entrance being what it was—namely, miserable—he turned out to be, uh, okay. In the end. In the beginning, though, all any of us could think was like, yeah, okay, this is how we die. It didn’t help that, once he had us all sitting down, he went on this whole…tirade? Tangent? Whatever, about Hannah and Beth going missing last year.”

“Hannah and Beth Washington, you mean?”

“Wh—obviously?! Obviously! How many Hannahs and/or Beths do you guys lose up here?!” He took a breath, sounding twice as exhausted as he looked. No small feat, that. “He starts talking about them, talking like he knows something about it, and then we start thinking, oh holy shit, this does look like the sort of guy who’d���I-I-I dunno, kidnap a couple teenagers and leave them in a cage to rot somewhere for a year or two. That’s just…I mean, that’s the vibe he was putting down, if you know what I mean.”

Usually he fast-forwarded past that part.

For no particular reason.

of mummy men & bathtub soup

Her gaze slid to his once he opened the fridge, rummaging through to get them some drinks. “How about you?” she asked, still speaking well below the music in case anyone was listening in. “Second thoughts?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed this by now, but I rarely even entertain first thoughts.”

“I had actually noticed that, yeah.”

“Well then! There you have it!” He handed her a bottle of something frosty and amber in color, then jokingly toasted her by clinking the neck of his to it. “I figure, hey, we’re here, right? Wheels are in motion? We might as well enjoy it.”

No sooner had it come out of his mouth than the door to the fridge was rudely pushed shut, only narrowly missing taking a chunk out of his nose.

“Interesting word choice,” Julia stated, bratty and matter-of-fact and brattily matter-of-fact. “‘We might as well enjoy it.’ What will we be enjoying tonight, Conrad? Where I’m standing, very little of this is entertaining.” Then she swooped on him same as she had last night, proving that, if nothing else, she hadn’t done a complete 180. “I don’t know what you’re up to—”

“Why do you always think I’m—”

“Because you are!” She glanced Fliss’s way. “He is.”

“I am not! Excuse me for getting a little excited about being part of a séance in today’s day and age!”

“It’s not going to be a séance, because that would suggest ghosts are real. Which they are not. So whatever you did—”

“I’m…hang on, I’m sorry, are you suggesting I was the one who went hither and yon last night, smashing plates and throwing cutlery—”

“And ruining the cheesecake,” Fliss piped in before taking a sip of her beer.

“—and ruining the cheesecake, thank you! You think that was me? JJ, I’m hurt. You know I’d never do anything like that!” He paused there, also taking a poignant drink. “I wanted that cheesecake just as much as anyone else. Maybe even more!”

the weekly wip tip

well hey gang! my one resolution for 2024 was that i was gonna wrap up a few of the wips i've already started posting*, so with that in mind, i'm going to be switching up my usual wip wednesday posts to sort of keep track of/hold myself accountable to the projects i'm cracking away on!

here's what this week's dance card looks like ;)c

posted projects i'm ACTIVELY working on:

like wringing blood from a stone (the quarry/until dawn)

of mummy men & bathtub soup (man of medan/until dawn)

posted projects NEXT on deck:

antagonish (until dawn)

one coat, two coat + red coat, blue coat (until dawn)

posted projects PAUSED for the moment:

soft reset (silent hill 2)

well...shit (dragon age 2)

(5/8/24)

[fanficsfromyesteryear]

Hi! Can I request headcanons for dating marcus (deadly class)? Thank you

HEADCANONS FOR DATING MARCUS LOPEZ ARGUELLO

A/N: Just a head’s up, I got a little carried away, so this is kinda long lol. Also, sorry this took forever! I’ve been suuuuuper busy lately :/ I almost had it done before work picked back up, but I couldn’t figure out how to end it. Anyway, I hope you like it!!

Before the two of you started dating, Marcus had no idea that you liked him, and for good reason

You did such a good job with hiding your feelings that sometimes even you forgot they were there, which was kind of the whole point

With girls like Saya and Maria around, sending out mixed signals and dropping subtle hints that they liked Marcus, too, it was intimidating

Add Marcus’s constant cynicism about love, and life in general, into the mix, and it was clear the chances of him actually liking you back were next to nothing

So, you knew it was probably for the best to move on

You used the “if you ignore it, it’ll go away” approach in the hopes that if you simply didn’t acknowledge your feelings, the problem would disappear

All this did, however, was create a whole new issue

Somewhere along the way, you’d begun to take the thought process of ‘ignoring your crush’ too literally

You and Marcus were best friends, so when, out of the blue, you stopped talking to him, he could tell something was up

He had no clue what, though

Naturally, he assumed it was something he had done

Marcus started asking around among your mutual friends to see if they knew anything, but they were all just as out of the loop as he was

You hadn’t told anyone about your repressed feelings for Marcus, and you had no intention of letting the secret slip any time soon, but accidents happen

The truth came out one night during a game of truth or dare when you were up on the roof smoking with the Rats

Your confession came tumbling out quicker than you could even think about reeling the words back in

“You hear that, Romeo?” Billy asked, elbowing Marcus in the ribs. “Y/N’s got the hots for you”

All Marcus could do was laugh nervously as he looked down at his feet, refusing to meet your gaze

To your relief, no one brought it up again for the rest of the game

When the next day rolled around and your crush on Marcus still wasn’t the topic of conversation, you started to think that you were in the clear

Maybe they’d all been too stoned to remember when they’d woken up that morning

Your hopes were shattered by the late afternoon

As you left the bathroom, Marcus spotted you from across the hall

He quickly rushed over and caught you by the elbow, dragging you back through the doorway

“Relationships aren’t really my thing,” he said

Marcus sounded like he had more to say, but before he got the chance, you cut him off

“It’s fine,” you said. “I get it”

“No, no. I mean, I like you, Y/N, really. I just don’t wanna mess it up”

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face even if you tried

“You’re not gonna mess it up”

Before either of you could say more, the bathroom door opened and Petra walked in

She glanced between the two of you knowingly

“Hate to break this up, but if I hold this piss in any longer, I’ll explode”

With that, she pushed past you both, effectively ruining the moment

It didn’t take long after that for you and Marcus to make your relationship official

‘Official’ is a bit of a loose term in this case

For the most part, both of you kept the fact that you were dating fairly under the radar for fear of what others would do with that information

In a place like King’s Dominion, something as small as caring for another person beyond using them as an ally was seen as a weakness that could and would be used against you, and the last thing either of you wanted was to be put in a situation where you were pitted against each other

Of course, there were several instances when one (or both) of you nearly blew your cover

Such as in Martial Arts class

Instead of fighting you, Marcus would try to cop a feel

You’d quickly smack his hand away

“Miss De Luca’s right there!”

“She’s not looking”

In defense of both of you, though, a class in which hormonal teenagers are asked to pair themselves up and wrestle is practically an invitation to break the ‘no sex’ rule

The other classes you shared weren’t any better

Master Lin caught you and Marcus staring at each other instead of paying attention on multiple occasions, earning both of you a smack from his cane

Although Marcus was somewhat known for his smart mouth and talking back to authority, he knew better than to challenge Lin, not mention that if he did, he’d risk exposing the two of you in the process

So, Marcus bit back his insults and held in his tirade until the two of you were safely locked away in his dorm room

“He had no right to hit you like that”

“I’m fine,” you assured him, shoving another tissue up your nose to stop the bleeding. “Besides, he does it to everyone”

“That still doesn’t give him the right”

“Next time, I’m gonna stick that cane right up his ass”

Marcus wanted to shield you from all the violence at King’s, but when it was coming from teachers, there wasn’t much he could do about it

If it was a fellow student pushing you around, on the other hand, there was no holding him back

You loved how protective Marcus was of you, but sometimes you worried that he’d get carried away

Marcus always made sure you were never around to witness the fights take place, but the scrapes and bruises on his face that hadn’t been there when you saw him that morning were all the proof you needed

In such cases, you would insist on patching him up afterwards

The first few times this happened, Marcus was embarrassed by all the attention you were giving him

After a while, though, he grew to love the feeling of having someone fuss over him, especially if it was you

It was nice to have someone care about him for a change

You weren’t much of a fighter, but making sure he didn’t get Tetanus was your way of looking out for him

When you and Marcus weren’t getting into trouble, you were actually a pretty cute couple

Your roommates became accustomed to the two of you being a package deal, which often meant sneaking into each other’s rooms after lights out

Sometimes, it was to make out, but other times, it was so you could have late night conversations that you didn’t get the chance to have during the day

The topics of these conversations varied—they could be deep and philosophical (which was Marcus’s favorite kind), an opportunity to open up to each other about yourselves and your pasts, a time to plot someone’s death (usually only theoretically), or simply joking around

After especially long days, you would accidentally drift off in the middle of these nightly chats with your head on Marcus’s chest, but he never minded

He’d pull the covers up on your side and wrap his arms more tightly around you

While both of you were perfectly capable of pulling all-nighters, whenever you fell asleep, Marcus was never far behind

The sound of your evened-out breathing was like a lullaby to him, so it was safe to say that his sleep schedule drastically improved after the two of you started dating

You’d found that you slept better with Marcus, too, so on the few nights you spent apart, you’d doze off listening to the mixtapes he’d made you in your Walkman, which were full of your favorite songs and songs that reminded him of you (though, these had quickly become your favorites, too)

It was rare that the two of you weren’t together, though

Even during the day, you and Marcus were practically joined at the hip

At lunch, you would hold hands under the table and share food

Of course, this always opened the door for plenty of teasing from your friends, especially Lex

“While you’re at it, why don’t you chew the food up for each other and pass it back and forth like little birds?”

“Fuck off, Lex”

It was always in good fun, though

Actually, the other Rats were relieved when the two of you finally got together because the weird tension that had been brewing leading up to that point went away, meaning group hangouts could carry on normally

They could overlook you sitting in Marcus’s lap if it meant you weren’t being distant and secretive

Just like they pretended not to notice when you showed up to class wearing each other’s blazers by mistake after spending the night together

Or walking in late looking ✨especially disheveled✨

All in all, you and Marcus are King’s Dominion’s cutest couple™️ that only, like, five other people know about, but still-