#Let’s pretend Goose is still alive | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ddejavvu · 2 years ago

Text

Love to Lie - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader (Part 2) / Part 1 / Part 3 / Part 4 (Final Part)

Summary: Your worst fear is recognized when Bradley’s jet goes down with him in it. You’re not sure why you’re still his emergency contact, you’d broken up two weeks ago, but when you rush into the hospital room, you discover that you have a chance to fix the mistake you’d been cursing yourself for. The only problem is, you have to lie to Bradley, and you discover that you love doing it if it means you get to be with him again.

Contents/Warnings: fem!reader, Mitchell!reader, angst, angst with a fluffy/happy ending, amnesia trope, hospitals and their subsequent medical details, memory loss, goose and carole are still alive because i say so

WC: 16.1K / navigation / inbox

A/N: part two!! thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of the sweet, lovely feedback i got on part one, i was so happy you enjoyed the opening chapter!! this part gives some more backstory on reader+bradley, and i hope you like it just as much as you did the first! once more i'd love to hear your thoughts, thank you to everyone who said something wonderful and kind about the first part, it meant a lot to me. <3

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Instead of your alarm, you wake up to a call from Carole. It’s 7:29, and when you raise the phone to your ear, your voice is gruff and achy with sleep.

“Hello?”

It feels just like yesterday. Yesterday, that comes flooding back to you in a barrage of awful memories. All that’s changed is the bed you’re in; you’re still alone. You almost miss Carole’s response because you’re slowly taking in everything that hits you like an anvil from above, but you catch the last word and can discern her meaning.

“-visit?”

“Yeah,” You rub your eyes, feeling tears already gathered there; a great way to start your morning.

“Yeah, I’ll visit,” You confirm, and your alarm buzzes against your head. You hastily shut it off and yawn, only inducing more tears and sighing as you speak again, “I’m gonna run to the store real quick, get some stuff for cookies. He convinced me to sneak them in.”

“That boy,” Carole huffs, and even half-asleep, you hear her voice laced with fondness for her son, “Alright honey. How y’doin’?”

“Um,” You ponder, truly unsure as your fingers pick at a stray thread on the blanket; you’d been meaning to replace it for months. “Okay. Not okay, but not- not as bad as yesterday. I think-” You swallow, throat convulsing, “I think I love lying to him if it means I have him back.”

She’s silent for a moment, letting your words sink into your own brain. You feel guilty for them, just like you feel guilty for leading Bradley on, pretending nothing is wrong when your entire lives have fallen apart. But she eventually responds with all of the kindness and love she has inside of her, which is a lot.

“I know, baby. And it’s okay, it’ll get better. It’ll turn out right.”

“I hope so,” You breathe shakily, wishing either her or your boyfriend (pretend boyfriend? Ex-boyfriend?) were there to rub soothing circles into your back.

“I know so.” She promises, and she’s never promised something she couldn’t guarantee. You hope this isn’t her first strike, because her never-ending optimism miraculously lifts your dreary spirits until your chest doesn’t ache with a sob begging to break free. “Alright, baby doll, I’ll let’cha get to baking. I’m gonna see if they’ll let me sneak in early, I- Oh! Nurse,” She calls away from the phone, and you hear her move on the other end, no doubt chasing down a poor nurse that doesn’t want to get fired for letting her in before visiting hours. You hang up the call with a snort, fond of how her fierce love for those around her hasn’t faded in all the time you’ve known her.

Pulling yourself out of bed is hard, but you do it for Bradley. You’re sluggish as you traipse to the bathroom, using deodorant in place of a shower and brushing your hair back into a ponytail. Showers are for people who have the luxury of time, you need to bake fast, and get over there to see if Bradley wakes up remembering anything new- er, old. You hope that he doesn’t, and then you hope that doesn’t make you a bad person.

One of the things you love about the place you’d shared with Bradley is that it’s close to a shopping center with a grocery store. It means that you walk to the supermarket, sandals on your feet and ratty, day-old clothes still on. No one seems to mind when you grab a basket looking like you’ve risen from the dead, and you collect the ingredients for Bradley’s favorite cookies with a skillful, experienced hand. You haven’t paid for anything by card in a while, you’d used emergency cash for the motel, and you wonder if you’ve been locked out of your joint bank account. Probably not; if the state of Bradley’s place had been any indication, he wants you back. But you’re cautious using the card anyways, in case a big red screen comes to life on the monitor in front of you and tells you you’re a terrible girlfriend. Almost a terrible wife.

You’re glad that you don’t run into any of your neighbors on the walk back home, because you don’t want to explain why you look the way you do, nor do you want to burst into tears when they ask where Bradley and his car are. You keep your head down and avoid the trike on the front walkway, ducking back into the house without being spotted.

Firing up the oven feels heavenly, maybe because you’ve been eating scraps of motel food for two weeks. It reminds you of all the times you’ve baked with Bradley, or, more like the times you’ve baked while Bradley steals pinches of sugar from the bowl or tries to lick the beater when there’s raw egg in the mixture, resulting in more batter in his mustache than in his mouth while you try wrestling the spatula out of his grip.

You go through the oatmeal raisin motions absentmindedly; a master at your craft. It frees up brainpower to reminisce, and you sort through a mental file cabinet to find your favorite memory of baking with Bradley.

“I want to try the vanilla,” Bradley reaches for the teaspoon in your hands, and you jerk it away, thankful that it isn’t full of the brown liquid yet.

“Absolutely not,” You laugh, “Brad, it’s gross by itself. It’s like eating straight cocoa powder, it’s meant to be mixed in with something.”

He pouts, he actually pouts, a man of 36. The expression has his mustache hanging over his lower lip and you can’t help but giggle at it, leaning in to kiss the prickly hair on his face.

“You’ll have a cookie to eat soon,” You promise him, dumping a teaspoon of vanilla extract into the mixing bowl. He plays satisfied with your answer, but when you turn your back to fold the mixture in on itself with a spatula, you hear rustling behind you, then the click of a cap, and a muffled gag.

“I told you,” Your voice is sing-song-y, and you turn amusedly to watch Bradley duck under the sink’s faucet, rinsing his mouth out of the bitter taste. He’s scowling when he comes back up for air, water dripping from his mustache as he crosses his arms.

“I thought it would be good.” He mutters, and you nod, humming as a bit of batter smears over your thumb from the spatula.

“That’s because you didn’t listen to me,” You lament, “I know everything, Brad. You should just listen to me, always.”

“Oh yeah? Alright, share some wisdom with me, Almighty One,” He teases, pushing off of the counter to join you at your own, “What should I do?”

He moves with his arms crossed, standing just close enough that you know the only answer you can give.

“Mm,” You pretend to deliberate, really leaning into it with a few contemplative taps at your chin, “Kiss me.”

He gasps dramatically, which is the way that he does most things, “Excellent idea. You really do know everything.”

“Mhm,” You nod, craning your neck up as Bradley leans down to kiss you, “I told you. Listen to me all the time.”

“I will,” He promises, “Quick, tell me we should have sex.”

“Bradley!” You gawp, an incredulous laugh oozing out from your chest, leaving behind a snail trail of joy, “You’re insatiable! We’ve already gone twice today.”

“Mm, can’t help it,” He tsks, backing you into the counter and kissing you once more. His lips press firmly to yours, his hands at your waist caging you into his embrace, “Honey, you taste much sweeter than that vanilla shit.”

When you come to, you’re putting the cookies in the oven. You’re alarmed at how zoned out you’d been, but evidently you hadn’t burned the place down, and you shut the oven door, setting a timer on the microwave. You tackle the dishes next, using the time that the cookies bake to tidy up your work station. The dough comes easily off of the mixing bowl and the melted butter drips over your fingers before you scrub it away, still slightly warm from the microwave. There’s only a few plates in the sink that you hadn’t dirtied, and you wonder if Bradley had washed and dried dishes while you were away. Or maybe this was it, four plates of food in two weeks. You’d been treating yourself that way, but it’s heartbreaking to know Bradley had, too.

You try warding off your incoming bout of sniffles by retreating back to your bedroom, choosing a new outfit to wear to the hospital. If you show up in the same thing, Bradley might worry about you, and you don’t want him thinking you were too sluggish to pull yourself together for him. You’re hurt, wounded and scarred with lashes over your heart, but he’s the one with the broken ribs and the lost memories, so you need to play the part of the strong one; the uninjured one.

He can’t know you’re hurting in case he asks why.

Your shower is quick, and you try not to think about Bradley in case you succumb to the urge to cry. Of course, it’s impossible to chase the thoughts from your head, and the feeling of your fingers scratching shampoo through your scalp turns into the feeling of Bradley’s. The hand that slides down your side suddenly isn’t your own anymore, it’s a memory of his. A ghost of him, a whisper against your skin of ‘I promise, baby. You won't lose me’.

You hope more than anything that promise stays true.

You get yourself ready to go with more zeal than you’ve felt in the past two weeks. You’re taking the bus today, to cut down on gas money, and you’re sure you’ll spend the whole time worrying. You’re nervous about seeing Bradley, but it’s a few minutes past eight-thirty and you’re sure if he’d regained his memories, Carole would have notified you. Beyond the nerves you’re almost excited to pretend to be his girlfriend again, excited to live in the fantasy life you’ve created to preserve his peace of mind. You never thought you’d love to lie to him.

You’re much more put together today when you greet the receptionist, and you're not sure you could forget the way to his room if you tried. There’s a bag of the oatmeal raisin cookies hidden in your purse and you slip into the room just as a doctor leans over him to take his temperature.

You adore the way Bradley smiles at you. His eyes meet yours as you stand in the doorway, previously cautious and now elated that he seems to like you still. His face lights up and he calls, ‘Baby,�� alerting the nurse to your presence.

“Miss Mitchell!” The woman greets you, the one who’d brought Bradley’s dinner last night.

“Hi,” You gush, a laugh bubbling up in your chest that’s made of pure elation. It’s a sickly sweet sound, one that you thought you’d never be able to make again after leaving Bradley. You rush to kiss him when the nurse leans away, scribbling down his temperature on his chart.

He lifts his hand to cup your cheek when you kiss him and the tears that line your eyes are happy ones; there’s still time. There’s still time to soak in his love before he remembers, there’s still time to lose yourself in this fantasy.

You take a moment to breathe after the kiss, doing so against his lips. He does the same, and you bask in each other’s presence, noses brushing and foreheads pressed together. Skin-on-skin, love-on-love.

“His heartbeat really did speed up,” Carole marvels, and you scramble to greet her, guilty that she’d slipped your mind in the rush of emotions you felt.

“Hi! Hi, sorry,” You stammer, wrapping her in a hug while she waves away your apologies.

“No worries, baby!” She squeezes your shoulders, beaming at you. You’re sure she’s thrilled you showed up, and you know Bradley is too from the way he grabs for your hand when you sit by his bed. He’s always been a touchy guy, his hands are never idle, but he’s never been quite this clingy before. It’s good, it helps ground you, and it’s what you need after a two-week bender in a motel.

“Brad,” You coo, unable to resist kissing him again when he turns his head to face you in the bed. He looks more comfortable today than he had yesterday, no more breathing tube or pale skin. There’s dark circles under his eyes, but you’re sure he’s still shaken up from the crash, and you’ll make sure he gets to sleep nice and early tonight.

If you’re able to.

Once you’ve kissed him you dot smaller ones across his face, heart soaring at the gentle laughter that spills from his lips as you do so. You kiss his nose, his cheeks, his chin, the space beside his eyes that’s wrinkled from years of laughter, and when his pretty brown eyes flutter shut, you go for the eyelids, too. You savor each one because you know it could be your last, and when he strokes the back of his hand along your cheek, you lean into the touch.

“Pretty girl,” He hums, and you feel your cheeks get hot. Newly showered, you felt more put-together than you’d been before, but you’d spent the past two weeks in a pigsty of your own creation, so the compliment means more than he knows.

Apparently, he feels your cheeks grow hot, too. His fingers pick up on the warmth and he laughs again, this time only a normal amount of raspiness clinging to the sound., He’s hyper-affectionate, taking his chance to dot kisses over your features for a change. The giddiness in your chest as his lips press to your skin, mustache prickling it, makes it feel like your heart will burst. You feel undeserving as he showers you with the affection you’ve missed so much, but you’re greedy so you take it anyways, and you wouldn’t be surprised if Carole was taking pictures of you in secret.

“I have some good news,” The nurse reports, and you turn at her voice. She’s angled towards Carole, obviously having meant to leave you and Bradley be in your couple’s reverie, but when she notices that she has your attention too, she speaks to the group.

“Nothing abnormal was documented during your stay here,” She reads off of her chart, “It’s just the concussion and the broken ribs, which is remarkable for the accident you were in. You’re very lucky, Mr. Bradshaw. There was some smoke inhalation from the crash site but that’s not a major issue anymore, and if everything remains stable until dinnertime, you can go home tonight.”

“Oh!” Carole squeals, clapping delicately with her hands in her lap, “That’s fantastic!’

Bradley seems equally pleased, smiling wide, and it takes a lot of willpower to mirror his expression. He knocks his nose into your cheek and you feel his grin against your jaw, so you bring a hand up to scrub through the hair at the back of his neck.

“That’s great,” You conclude weakly, blaming the lull in your voice on being so close to Bradley and not wanting to talk too loud. Carole eyes you nervously, though, trying to mask the worry in her eyes with a smile.

“You should still rest,” The nurse advises, “Those ribs won’t be healed for close to a month, maybe more. And you can sleep through most of the concussion, too. What’s good about going home is it’ll be familiar to you, and it might help trigger those memories you’ve lost. They’re still not back?”

“Nope,” Bradley shakes his head, keeping it pressed to yours, “I got nothin’.”

“Alright,” The nurse hums sympathetically, tucking the chart into a cubby by the door, “We’ll bring lunch at around one, Mr. Bradshaw.”

“Thank you!” Carole calls after the nurse as she leaves, then she stands in her flowy skirt, wrapping her cardigan tighter around her shoulders.

“Miss Y/N,” She beams, “Bradley’s already had his breakfast. Have you eaten?”

“Uh, no,” You shake your head, “Not yet. Are you going to get something?”

“I am,” She nods, shouldering her purse, “Would you like some hospital pancakes, baby doll?”

“Here,” You stand, but Bradley grabs your hand, keeping you close to his bedside, “I can-”

“You can sit down,” Carole narrows her eyes at you, teasingly menacing, “Sit your butt back in that chair and be with your boyfriend, honey! I can manage two to-go boxes.”

“Thank you,” You gush, settling back into your seat and squeezing Bradley’s hand. He doesn’t let up on his heavy grip until you’re planted in your seat, and even when he does loosen his fingers he still holds you. Carole winks at you when you leave, and Bradley’s attention is solely on you the second the door shuts.

“Y/N,” He murmurs, and sometimes you forget your name isn’t baby or honey around him. You turn, now a little more nervous to be there now that your buffer is gone.

His big brown eyes are oozing their signature sweetness, a golden glint in them under the lights of the hospital room. He looks healthier now, even though you know his ribs hurt, and you’re oh-so-happy to have your Bradley back.

“I missed you,” You confess, and his face breaks into a grin. He nods, leaning up to kiss you, and you close the gap so that he doesn’t have to strain his probably sore muscles.

“I missed you, too,” He breathes, and you kiss him over and over and over again until you think you might be stealing the breath from his lungs. You let up, if only to keep him healthy, otherwise you’d never stop.

“I wasn’t sure when you were coming,” His lips close momentarily around your lower one while yours frame his top in a sweet peck.

“The cookies needed time to bake,” You lament, your mouth slightly dewy from his kiss, “Sorry, babe. I would have come faster, I- I should have gotten up earlier, but-”

“You’re here now,” He cuts off your worries, the heated skin of his face pressing against yours like he’s trying to stick to you, “That’s all that matters.”

“Yeah?” You hum dazedly, drunk on his love, “What about the cookies, do those matter?”

His eyes widen in consideration and he tilts his head to the side, mouth scrunching in a thoughtful frown, “Yeah, those matter too. Oatmeal raisin?”

“Oatmeal raisin,” You promise, digging through your purse, “Are you still on the hospital diet?”

“Honey,” He declares, sounding like his father's son as pride prickles his mustache, “I’d eat your cookies even if they killed me. Lay one on me, sugar.”

You snort at his cocky drawl, withdrawing a cookie from the bag in your purse. You break a piece off, hand-feeding him like his arms are still weak.

“Speaking of sugar,” You muse, stealing a bite of the treat for yourself and speaking with it pinched between your teeth, “I was thinking about baking together earlier. It was awful being alone, there was no one to eat the sugar out of the bowl.”

“Or drink the vanilla extract,” He cracks, and you laugh with glee.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking of!” You gush, taking his hand once more and squeezing it, “You gagged.”

“I don’t know! I just thought it’d taste good! I love vanilla,” He laments, only fuelling more laughter from you.

“Yeah, well you got a lot of it,” You chuckle, “Anyways, it was weird not having you there. I had to do the dishes all by myself.”

“Poor baby,” He croons, half sincere and half teasing. He strokes a hand down your cheek that you yearn to kiss, but it goes by too fast, “How’d you manage?”

“I thought about you,” You confess, and some of that amusement in his eyes dims, giving way to complete and total admiration.

“Yeah?” He breathes, incredulous like he's twelve and he can’t believe his crush actually likes him. He’s always had that sort of puppyish aura about him, like you’re not just his girlfriend, you’re his best friend, and he’s always happy you’re along for the ride. It’s probably why he holds your hand so frequently, like he is now.

“Yeah,” You nod, flipping his palm in yours and tracing over the lines etched into it, “It’s not home there without you, Brad.”

“We go back tonight,” He smiles, keeping his voice low so that it doesn’t shatter the serenity around you, “Together.” You notice a sheen of tears over his eyes and you fall in love with him all over again, unable to hold yourself back from admiring how much he loves you. You really, really don’t know how you fucked this up.

“Yeah,” You croak, smiling weakly down at his hand instead of into his eyes, “Together.”

“Breakfast,” Carole sings, propping the door open with her foot as she steps inside. Your heads turn in sync, and you see her holding two plates, both covered with plastic lids. “Miss Y/N, three pancakes for you, and there’s syrup for days.”

“Thank you,” You rush to help her, and some piece of your heart stays in Bradley’s palm when you drop it. You suspect you won’t get it back unless he forgives you eventually, or maybe he’ll keep it even if he does. You trust him with it, he’ll take care of it.

You wish you'd offered him and his heart the same courtesy.

Carole hands you your breakfast and takes a seat on Bradley’s opposite side, caging him in between his two girls.

“You want some, baby?” Carole croons at Bradley, but he shakes his head.

“No thanks, ma,” He clears his throat, turning to face you with a puppy-eyed look that he’s had mastered since age three, “But I would love another bite of cookie?”

“Oh, take it,” You grumble, handing over the baked good for Bradley to devour, “But if your blood sugar rises, or something, it’s not my fault.”

“Won’t tell a soul,” Bradley promises, a mouthful of oatmeal raisin already impairing his speech, “Thanks, honey.”

“Mm-hm,” You nod, your mouth similarly stuffed with food. The pancakes are good, considering they came from a cafeteria that also serves tuna and jell-o.

“Y/N, baby,” Carole calls just as much sugar in her voice as is in her breakfast, “Pass me that syrup?”

She’s asking for a container you’ve got in your hand, half-empty. She doesn’t want to open a new one and waste the contents, so you pass it over, but a drizzle drips off of the side and lands on Bradley’s chin.

He rears his head back as it falls, but he can’t burrow far enough into the pillow to dodge it. You squeal through your mouthful, swallowing quickly and painfully to rush out an apology you’re sure he doesn’t care about receiving.

“Sorry, Brad.” You curse your clumsiness, grabbing for a napkin but getting a better idea instead. You stand and lean over him to kiss the syrup off of his chin, feeling his face split into a grin while your lips are still attached to it. You can't keep a smile off of your face either, licking your lips clean of the stickiness.

“Cuties!” Carole giggles, just as giddy of a grin on her face as is on yours and Bradley’s. You’re sure she’s ecstatic to see you getting along so well, glad to know your acting isn’t just that.

“I was telling Bradley earlier,” You speak disjointedly through a mouthful of syrupy pancakes, “When I was baking his cookies, I was thinking about the times we’ve baked together. Wanna tell’er what you did, Brad?”

“Oh,” He groans, “No. Not fair, baby, I’m bed-ridden. I’m dying,” He sticks a protective hand over his ribs, now magically unable to lift his head from the pillow, “You can’t tell embarrassing stories of me to my mom.”

“I didn’t! I offered you the chance to tell it,” You roll your eyes, wary as you hear a nurse pass by the door. Bradley’s cookie is in plain sight, and he stuffs it into his mouth for safekeeping as the footsteps pass. No one comes in, though, and he struggles to finish his mouthful.

“Oh,” Carol gushes, “Somebody tell me! I wanna know, y’know I love teasin’ you, Brad.”

“Mom!’ He gawps through a mouthful of oatmeal, “Rude!”

“What’s rude is talkin’ with your mouth full,” Carole scolds, swatting him on the shoulder, “Swallow first, mister.”

“He ate-” You start, but Bradley lunges for you with impressive agility, twisting his torso to the side to clamp a hand over your mouth. You laugh, long and loud and brash while Bradley tries to muffle it. In his haste to silence you he tries saying ‘No!’ but he’s still got a mouthful of cookie, and the crumbs that don’t get caught in his mustache rain over your legs.

You’re still laughing. It’s messy, it’s gross, there’s half-chewed cookie on your lap, but Bradley’s holding you close, his strong arms around your head while he keeps a tight grip on your mouth. He’s laughing too, chest shaking as he tries powering through the mouthful of food that he’s got. Finally he swallows, but he doesn’t let go, only blows fruitlessly at the crumbs littering your pants.

“I’m sorry,” He pants, short of breath from chuckling, “If you hadn’t been so hellbent on embarrassing me, I wouldn’t have spewed raisins into your pancakes.”

“Gross! Okay!” You laugh uncontrollably into his palm between giggles, kissing at the skin there, “Okay. You win.”

He lets up only when you stop struggling, letting yourself sink into his embrace no matter how uncomfortable. A thought prods at the back of your mind like a lightning rod, sending a jolt of pain down your spine when it reminds you that this isn’t real. But you push it away, you don’t let it paralyze you, and your smile never falls.

“I’m sorry,” You hum to Bradley, while Carole watches you with amusement dancing in her pretty eyes, as well as in her movie star smile, “I just thought your mom would have liked to hear. That’s all.”

“She would,” Bradley nods, leaning back in his bed, finally at ease, “That’s why you can’t tell her.”

“You’re no fun,” She groans, and you finish up the last of your pancakes, gathering all of the trash (and cookie crumbs) to put them in the can. You have to let go of Bradley’s hand to make it across the room but when you’re by the door you stay there, your boyfriend’s eyes trained on you like a hawk.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” You reach for the doorknob, then, while he can't reach you, “Carole, he ate vanilla extract.”

The nurse down the hall gives you a strange look as you rush to shut the door on both Bradley’s indignant shout and Carole’s gleeful giggles.

“Does he need help?” He looks at you skeptically, and you shake your head.

“We’re teasing him,” You brush the nurse’s concerns away, “Where’s the gift shop?”

True to your word, you stop by the bathroom, but your real destination is the gift shop. There’s a stuffed bear inside with fur the exact caramel shade of Bradley’s hair, and you only wish it had a mustache. Otherwise, it’s identical, flight gear on and aviators over its eyes.

“Hi,” You greet the cashier at the counter, handing over the bear and a book you plan on reading to him in your downtime, “Just these.”

While she rings up your purchase you hear the sliding doors behind you open, and you turn to see your dad and Nick enter. Their faces light up at the sight of you, and when the cashier gives you back the bear, you show it off to them.

“Just gotta get it a mustache,” Nick tugs softly on one of the bear’s ears, “Now that’s a good lookin’ bear!”

“I was gonna get’im a movie to watch,” Your dad beelines for the DVDs, but you pull him back.

“Dad,” You murmur, walking him and Nick towards the door, “He can just use his phone. Everything here is way too expensive.” You throw a kind smile at the cashier like you hadn’t just insulted her trade, “Thank you!”, and lead the way back to Bradley’s room.

The elevator ride almost goes sour when Nick tries pushing all of the buttons at once. You’re not sure how Carole has survived living with him for this long, but you swat his hands away with an incredulous shout.

“Don’t! I wanna get these back to him,” You beg, bear and book in hand, “I’ll bet he’s so bored.”

“You seen him already?” Your dad raises a brow, and you nod.

“Carole’s there, too,” You hum, “We just finished breakfast.”

“Does he ‘member anything new?” Goose asks, and that little lightning rod comes back, tazing your brain, burning one word into the matter there; liar, liar, liar. All of a sudden the elevator is too small, and you’d rather be anywhere but.

“Nope,” You shake your head, turning to face the doors of the elevator that ding, “Nothing.”

“Bradley!” Nick cheers, seeing his son alive and well, “Made it through the night?”

“Barely. Spent more time on my phone than I did asleep,” Bradley scoffs, and your heart skips a beat, not in a good way. Again you wonder if he’s found mystifying evidence of your breakup, an unfollow on instagram or a deletion of date nights from the calendar.

You’re sure he would have brought something up if he was confused, but you’re sneaking around, and it makes you paranoid enough to believe everything will fall apart at a moment’s notice. You have no peace, not when Bradley isn’t holding you.

“Well you’re going home tonight,” Carole reminds him, stroking over his cheek fondly, “You’ll get some good rest there, Brad.”

“Hey, alright!” Your dad whoops, “They’re cuttin’ you loose?”

“After dinner,” Bradley nods, “They said if nothing weird happens I can leave.”

“Congrats, Brad.” Nick claps him on the shoulder, standing in front of the seat you’d abandoned to go get his gifts.

His gifts!

You fumble with the bag in your hands, pulling the bear out first and passing it over.

“Oh, baby,” Bradley laughs, admiring its miniscule flight gear, “Bear’s almost as handsome as me.”

“Nah, a little more.” Pete squints at it, “It doesn't have that ugly mustache.”

“Hey!”, Father and son rage in unison, and Nick slaps your dad’s arm hard enough for Bradley, too.

“Uh, Carole,” You murmur, but the soft sound catches Bradley’s attention anyways. He’s drawn to you like a fly to honey, stuck in every last drop of your sweetness.

“I need to ask your mom a favor,” You smile down at Bradley, brushing hair away from his eyes, “Can we slip out?”

“Okay,” He hums skeptically, “What is it?”

“It’s a surprise,” You drag your voice out dramatically, leaning down to peck at his forehead. His skin is warm to the touch, and feels comforting against your lips.

“We’ll keep’im busy,” Nick declares, taking the book that you hand him, “Want me to read to you, Brad?”

“No.”

“Too bad! Ooh, Little Women. Wanna do voices with me, Mav?”

You and Carole step out before Nick or your dad could pull out any high-pitched giggles, and Bradley’s mom looks at you worriedly.

“What is it, baby doll?”

“I need help,” You confess, “If Bradley’s coming home tonight, he’s gonna notice a hell of a lot of stuff missing from our place. I just took everything I could grab and I ran,” You recall, dry swallowing at the thought of the boxes piled into your motel room, “I can’t put everything back by myself, and I- I don’t want to force you to help, but my dad and NIck can’t know, and-”

“Slow down, sugar,” She hums, reaching out to rub a soothing hand up and down your arm, “I’ll help you. What do we got, clothes and shoes?”

“And books, and toiletries, and... puzzles.” You concede drearily.

“Baby,” Carole arches a brow, looking almost sympathetically at you, “You brought puzzles with you?”

“I thought I’d be bored!” You reason, shoulders stiff to your ears, “But I haven’t had much of an appetite for puzzling.”

“Alright, I’ll help you,” She promises, “How long are we gonna need, honey?”

“A few hours,” You shrug, “We can carpool to base, I’ll pick up his Bronco, and we can head to the motel I’ve been at to get my stuff. We’ll need the extra space in the back of his car.”

“Okay! Okay,” Carole gushes, and you think she’s almost a little exhilarated by this spy operative, “Let’s stay for lunch, then we’ll go. We’ll say- uh, the house needs cleaning!”

‘Perfect,” You rub at your temples, “Thanks, Carole. And- and we’ll buy party decorations,” You snap your fingers, “I told him we were out here talking about a surprise, so we’ll throw a little welcome home thing tomorrow, have cake or something. That’s our alibi.”

“Got it! I’m off to the bathroom,” She heads down the hallway, “Get back in there!”

“-told you, I’m Jo!” Your dad is standing squared to Nick, eyes narrowed and shoulders tight, “It’s not fair that you get to be everyone!”

“Well if you did the voices right, I wouldn’t have to take over everything,” Nick huffs, “Tell’im Brad, that was a shitty Beth impression!”

“Both of you suck,” Bradley drawls, his eyes tracking you intently as you slip back into the room, “Baby, you okay?”

You shake off any residual nerves from your scheming with Carole, nodding as light-heartedly as you can, “Yeah! Yeah, Brad,” You take your seat beside him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tight, “I’m okay.”

He doesn’t look like he believes you. He's always good at reading you, and everything about you right now is a lie. You smile at him, leaning in to kiss his cheek, but he doesn’t react like you want him to, he still doesn’t believe you. He studies you when you pull away, and you laugh in defeat, “I promise, I’m just exhausted from all of this. But that shouldn’t matter, I wasn’t the one whose jet crashed! As soon as we get you home I’ll be fine.”

That seems to work, clearing away the worry swirling in Bradley’s honey-colored eyes. He nods, smiling softly, “Yeah, me too.”

He takes your hand, and you’re starting to wonder how you’d ever survived without holding his. You hadn’t held hands this frequently even when you’d been together, not that Bradley knows there’s a difference. Your heart aches for the man beside you, how shaken up he must be to cling to you like a lost puppy.

While Nick and Pete argue you feel Bradley’s fingers slip from yours, and it’s such an unexpected motion that you turn to watch him. He’s looking intently at your hand, though there's an absent-minded air about him, and your stomach drops when he ghosts his rough thumb gently over your ring finger.

“Brad?” You murmur, trying to keep from choking up, “‘Love you.”

He smiles, eyes trained back on yours and full of tenderness, “Love you too, sweetheart. Where’s my mom?”

“Bathroom,” You drop your eyes down to his hands, studying his own bare ring finger. You hope you get to see it decorated one day.

“Do you want me to read to you?” You look back up at him, your nose nearly bumping his cheek. Nick has left the book on the side table near the foot of Bradley’s bed in order to gesture with both hands, and you’re sure they wouldn’t notice if you lit it on fire where it sat.

“I’d love for you to read to me,” Bradley laughs breathily, “I haven’t been hearing your voice much lately. Not like I used to.”

“I know,” You lament, hoping your voice doesn’t tremble. You know he means unobscured, private, without beeping in the background and the ever-present threat of a nurse coming in to kick you out, but you hadn’t heard Bradley’s voice in weeks, so you understand the internal yearning.

“Come here,” Bradley suggests when you fetch the book, offering up the right side of his bed. It’s small, nothing you wouldn’t attempt at home but something you don’t want to risk in the hospital.

“No, it’s okay, Brad.” You shake your head, trying to pat the blankets down around him but he doesn’t let you, reaching for your thigh.

“No, I don’t wanna hurt you!” You insist, standing when he tries dragging you into the bed with him, “It’s okay, Brad, let’s just sit. We can be closer when we’re home, but for now I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

He looks crushed. Really, truly crushed, his brown eyes holding such a vulnerable look in them that you feel like you’ve just punted a puppy across a football field.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” You repeat, swallowing thickly as tears prick at your eyes. You lean down to kiss his forehead, “I’m scared, Bradley.”

You’re scared about more than just that. You haven’t held him in weeks, nor has he held you. You’re afraid that you might never recover from this, but if he wraps his arms around you, buries his face in your hair and holds you close, you know you never will. You’ll spend the rest of your days living in regret, and your self-preservation instinct is kicking in again.

“Don’t be afraid,” Bradley murmurs, though he doesn’t need to be quiet now that Nick and your dad have stopped bickering. They’re stealing sneaky glances at the two of you, acting like their sunglasses stop them from being noticed even though their heads are turned towards you.

His words strike something within you that he didn’t mean for them to. He’s spoken unknowingly to your outstanding promise with yourself, that you won’t run away because something is scary. And your promise to Carole, as well, that you’ll make her son feel loved before he remembers that love wasn’t enough to make you stay.

“Bradley,” You breathe, book in one hand as you use the other to stroke through his hair. You’re standing at his bedside and he takes advantage of your proximity, sitting up and off of his pillows to lean his head against your stomach.

You’re glad he can’t see your face, because tears rush from your eyes in seconds. He’s a sweet man whose brain operates on love first, and thought second, so when he hooks his arms around your waist and nestles his face into your tummy, you know it’s his instinct to hold you.

At the sight of your tears the other men in the room decide to take their leave, smiling sadly at you while you comb your fingers through Bradley’s hair.

“We’ll give you some time,” Your dad whispers, but Bradley can hear just fine, “Bye, honey.”

You aren’t able to offer them a wave in response, but they know you appreciate it.

Once more the sterile hospital room is inhabited by only you and Bradley. Souls intertwined, tangled in some places and parallel in others, you hold him, stroking through his hair and praying he never picks his face up out of your stomach. There’s snot threatening to run down your lip but you don’t dare sniffle at the thought of ruining the moment, keeping your chest deathly still where it yearns to shake with sobs.

“I love you,” You whimper, dropping the book to cage his head to your belly, “I love you, Bradley, I- I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” He speaks into your stomach, and the sound vibrates through your body, warming you with a tingly sensation like the one you’d gotten from your very first kiss with Bradley.

You’re sure he knows you’re crying now, now that your voice drips with tears and your hands shake in his scalp. He doesn't break away, though, only tugs you closer, keeping his face nestled to your body as he pulls you into a sitting position on his lap. You’re mindful of his broken ribs, but there’s nothing wrong with his thighs, so when you land on top of them, you let yourself rest there.

Bradley’s wormed his nose against your cheek, no longer snug in your stomach but flush to your face instead. He holds you like he used to, before you spooked and ran, before he fell out of the sky in a blaze of flames, before anything in your life was complicated. He holds you like he held you when you were just Y/N and Bradley, cradling your face to his chest and tucking his chin over your head.

“You’re hurting, too,” He murmurs, rocking you ever-so-slightly back and forth as you sit sideways on his lap. He keeps you tucked to his chest, smooths your hair with one hand and holds your waist with the other.

“I’m the one that went down but you’re the one who got that phone call,” He moves his hand from your hair to your back, scratching aimlessly there, “You’re allowed to be upset over that. You don’t have to pretend like nothing is wrong just because I’m in the hospital. I don’t want you to pretend to be strong if it’s only gonna make you weaker. Talk to me, honey, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I can’t!” You wail, clutching his hospital gown and praying you aren’t hurting his ribs, “Bradley, I- I can’t tell you. I can’t do that to you, not here, not now. I’m scared,” You weep, “I’m really scared, Bradley.”

“Don’t be. You’re okay,” He promises, pecking a soft kiss against the crown of your head, “Baby, you’re safe with me. You don’t have to be scared of anything. Of talking, or feeling, or hurting. That’s what I’m here for, angel, to talk with you, to feel with you, to hurt with you. That’s what love is, honey, and I love you, you know I do.”

His voice wobbles slightly on the last fragment of his sentence, and you don’t think you can handle seeing him cry. You’re terrified out of your mind, but determined just the same not to run, and it’s stuck you in this awful paralyzed state. All you can do is hold Bradley, all you can do is let him hold you, and hope that his memories never return.

“I don’t want to stress you out,” You mourn, picking your head up from his chest to press it to his face instead. You want to fuse yourself to him, so that he couldn’t cast you away if he tried.

“I’m stressed about whatever you’re not telling me,” He laughs sadly, a soft huff of air from his chest, “Baby, it makes me stressed knowing you’re shutting yourself in like this. Knowing there’s stuff going on up here that you don’t want to talk to me about.”

He taps your head, then smooths his hand down the nape of your neck to rub at your back.

“Tell me,” He begs, voice raw with despair, “Please, angel, tell me what you’re feeling.”

You owe him the truth. Concealing the truth was one thing. Sneaking around, covering up behind his back so that he didn’t notice anything peculiar was a preventative measure. But now he’s asked for your honesty, now it’ll be lying if you don’t tell him. Now you’ll be lying to him, really and truly lying to him, and you can’t bring yourself to do it. You choose honor this time, sniffling hard and bracing your hand on his chest so that you can look him in the eyes if you feel brave enough.

“Bradley,” Your words roll off of your tongue with the weight of steel, and you have to force them out of your throat to get them to go at all, “I want to be honest with you. But I’m scared-” Your face crumples, and you fight to right it, “But- but that’s not fair to you. It’s not fair for me to shut you out, You’re right, you-” You falter, the pitch of your voice wobbly as you take a deep breath, “You love me. And I know I can be honest with you.”

“You can,” Bradley promises, stroking his knuckles over your cheek. He stares into your eyes, and you stare into his only to get a last glimpse of their sweet honey-like hue.

“You should know,” You drop your eyes, unable to confess while looking into his, “I love you, Bradley. I always have, and I always will.”

“I love you, too,” He promises, “Now what’s the matter, honey?”

“It’s-”

“Mr. Bradshaw?” A nurse steps into the room, and instantly the moment is shattered. There’s no picking up the pieces, no glue in the world strong enough to repair the bravery you’d mustered up to be honest with Bradley.

He looks annoyed at her interruption, something you know he wouldn’t normally feel towards anyone doing their job, but he refrains from snapping at her.

“Yes?”

“We need to run some vital tests. Blood sugar, heart rate, breathing, the like. After they’re cleared, we’ll know if you can return home or not.”

From his hold on you, you gather that there’s nothing Bradley would rather do less in the world than let you go, and there’s nothing you’d rather do less than let him, but you peel away from him reluctantly, standing where you’d been tucked into his lap. He settles back against his pillows that you’re sure are cold now, and you tuck the blanket beneath his thigh to keep him warm.

He ducks his gaze and you see tears lining his eyes that you want to wipe away, but he grabs for your hand again, and you hope that’s enough for him.

The nurse pokes and prods at him, reads machines and scribbles their information down, and the door opens once again before she’s done conducting her tests. Carole, Nick, and Pete step back through the doors, smiling sheepishly at you. You have a sneaking suspicion that Nick and your dad had held Carole off from coming back to the room while you spoke, which you’re grateful for. You just wish you'd had a little more time.

“Alright,” The nurse claps, smiling cheerily like she hadn’t just shattered your moment, “You are in good shape, Mr. Bradshaw. Your blood sugar is a little high,” She notes with a furrowed brow, and you shoot a knowing glance at Bradley, “But everything else seems right. Your ribs should heal within a few weeks time, and once you get back home and see familiar surroundings, your memories should return. All you need to do is rest, once I get these processed and signed off by the doctor, you’ll be good to go!”

“Thank you,” Carole gushes, while Bradley just nods with a tight smile on his face, jaw tight in irritation at the four unwanted parties in the room.

“Goin’ home, big guy.” Nick grins at Bradley as the nurse makes her leave. He claps his son on the leg and this time Carole doesn’t intervene, “What’s the first thing you’re gonna do?”

“Shower,” Bradley rasps, “There’s ash in my hair.”

“Not anymore,” You showcase your hands, dust and ash clinging to the spaces between your fingers from when you’d run them through Bradley’s hair.

He laughs at the sight, “Still. The second thing on my list is sleep, and I don’t want to get anything on the sheets.”

“Good plan,” Carole beams at her son, hooking her arm around yours, “Baby, we should head out. We’ve got lots to do for this surprise of yours,” She gloats at Bradley, then turns back to you, “But you should wash your hands first, honey.”

“Okay,” You nod, eager to get out of a situation you’d been so courageous in only minutes before, “I’ll- um, get my stuff.”

You bend towards your purse, taking the bag of cookies out, “If your blood sugar rises and lands you in here for another night,” You warn, “I’m never making these again.”

“Yes ma’am,” Bradley nods, but your dad is the one to take the bag, not him.

“Don’t steal them,” You narrow your eyes at your dad and Nick, “And don’t get caught feeding him any. Understand?”

“Yes ma’am!” They echo Bradley, standing at attention. You scoff, turning back to Bradley and leaning down to meet him where he lays back on his pillows.

“I love you,” You hum, and he’s already reaching out for you before you can touch him. He sits upright, grabbing for your hands and tilting his face upwards to beg for a kiss.

“I love you, too,” He mumbles, speaking lowly against your lips as you kiss him. When you pull away he wants more, keeping your hands firmly in his grip when you try to leave.

“Bradley,” You let out a soft laugh, but you kiss him again anyways, knowing he’s still reeling from being a second away from finding out the truth, the extent of which he’s not prepared for.

“It’s okay,” You whisper against his lips, pressing your forehead to his, “We’ll talk later.”

”Yeah,” He nods, arching up into your embrace even though he knows he has to let you leave.

He calls out again before you leave, “Love you!” And you repeat it with a sad smile on your face, letting Carole take your hand while Nick and your dad sit at Bradley’s bedside. The last you see of him is his fading grin as you wave goodbye before the door shuts, and you’re in the hallway.

“Something happened in there,” She gushes, misplaced excitement shining from her eyes like a sunbeam, “I just know it! He was all lovey-dovey when you left, even moreso than usual. He really didn’t want you to go, angel.”

“I almost told him,” You mutter as Carole leads you to the elevator, nerves churning your stomach.

“What?” Her smile drops in surprise, and she stomps to a halt on the tiled floor. She presses the button, and when the elevator dings she ushers you inside.

“He asked me to be honest with him,” You recall, sick at the thought of how close you’d been to losing him, “And- and he was holding me, Carole, like he used to. And I couldn’t help it, I just- I wanted to tell him everything, I couldn’t stand lying to him and pretending nothing was wrong. But I- I don��t know if I can do that again. I don’t know if I can tell him the truth. I tried, and we got interrupted, I mean- isn’t that a sigh? Some sort of clue left by the universe to tell me to wait a little longer?”

“Baby I don’t think the universe is sendin’ you clues,” Carole looks sympathetically at you, “I think you’re lookin’ for reasons to run away again. I know I’m the one that told you to pretend, but that boy can read you like a book, and if he’s catchin’ on, maybe you ‘oughta give it up. I saw him in there, honey.” The door dings and slides open, and she takes your hand to lead you outside, “There’s nothin’ he wouldn’t forgive you for. He was clinging onto you like a leech, and I think he’d understand you were scared. Might not like it, but he’d understand.”

“He keeps saying that I’ll never lose him, or- or that he loves me, or that I can tell him what’s bothering me,” You gesture with your free hand as you walk to the parking lot, “And- and it feels so perfect! Like he knows exactly what I need to hear. Like I could tell him and nothing would change. But everything would change, and- and I don’t want that,” You suppress a sob as you reach Nick and Carole’s car, pulling open the door to the passenger’s side.

She stashes her purse by your feet, stuffing the key into the ignition, “Baby, everything’s already changed. He just doesn’t know that. But he will soon, and once he does, he’s gonna realize why you’ve been acting so weird. If you were pullin’ it off, I’d say keep going. If he wasn’t asking questions, you could keep this up, ‘cause you’d be doing him a favor. That was the whole point, baby, to let him down nice and easy, give him a bit of time to adjust to the crash before confessing about the breakup. But I should’ve known he’d realize you were lyin' to him,” She scoffs, checking her mirrors, “That boy would notice you’d changed your haircut from just your voice on the phone. He knows you too well, honey, and if he’s askin’ all the right questions and you’re giving him all the wrong answers, that’s gonna stress him out. And that’s doing the opposite of what we want. If this is just gonna make things worse, I say tell him. But-” She backs out of the spot, en route to base to fetch his car, “Not yet. Wait until you’re home. Then he’s in a familiar environment, you can kneel by the bedside and grovel if you want,” She waves a hand in the air, “Just be honest with him baby, if it’s what he’s askin’ for.”

She barely lets you mull her words over before she starts again, “I think it’s a good time. You told me that when you left, you wish you hadn’t. And you’ve spent the last two days showing that to him, even if he doesn’t know that’s what you’re doing. He knows you love him, and I think he’ll forgive you if you confess that you were just scared of losing him. ‘Cause you can’t fake love like that, honey.” She eyes you through the mirror, “You can pretend y’all never broke up, but the way you love him, that’s not pretend, and he knows that.”

“I’ll tell him tomorrow,” You sniffle, “If he doesn’t know by then. I- I know I have to, even if it’s scary.”

“Atta girl,” She gushes, nearly flooring it at a green light in her excitement, “I’m proud of you, baby.”

“Don’t be,” You grumble, ‘Not yet. Not until I do it.”

“I know you will,” She decides, “You’ve never lied to me before.”

“Actually,” You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, “I have, once.”

She narrows her eyes, gives you a sideways glance as she makes a turn, “Oh, really? And when was that?”

“Uh, when we were in high school, I told you Bradley and I were staying at my place while my dad was gone,” Your face twists into an involuntary smile at the memory, “We went to Vegas.”

“What?” She shrieks, almost stomping on the breaks, “Vegas?”

“It was just for a night! And we didn’t gamble,” You scoff, “They wouldn’t let us into any casinos.”

“Ooh, you two,” She seethes, but it’s happened so long ago that she can’t be mad, not really, “Surprised y’all didn’t get married down there.”

“Actually,” You laugh, “We tried. But you weren’t there to sign off on it, and we were only 17.”

She shares a laugh with you at the memory, pulling into the security checkpoint outside of the naval base. You have to pass your ID over her, and you explain that you’re just picking up your partner’s car. They let you in, but you don’t think they like your presence very much, so you get the car and go as quickly as you can.

“It’s the motel just off the freeway,” You gesture in the direction of the place you’ve been staying, “We’ll load up the Bronco and meet back at our place.”

“See you there, babydoll,” Carole grins, already headed for the exit.

You roll up your window just as your phone buzzes, and you put the call on speaker while your phone balances on the cupholder.

“Hello?”

“Y/N,” Bradley’s voice bleeds through the crackly speakers. Then, like an attached toddler their first night away from mom, “I miss you.”

It’s just what you need to hear after your gut-wrenching conversation with Carole, and you croon while waving to the security officers on the way out, “I miss you too, Brad. I picked up your car. Didn’t want her sitting all alone on base.”

“Thanks, babe,” You can hear the grin in his voice, “Is my mom still with you?”

“No, she’s driving herself,” You merge lanes, brain on autopilot as you head for the motel, “And don’t ask what we’re doing, it’s a surprise.”

He scoffs; you’ve caught him, “Fine. They gave me lunch. It’s the same as yesterday.”

“Poor baby,” You coo, feeling more at home in Bradley’s Bronco than you had in your half-empty house, “I’ll make you something good for breakfast tomorrow, baby. Eggs, pancakes, waffles, sausage, bacon, fruit, whatever you want to eat.”

He takes a pause, then, “I have something inappropriate to say. But your dad’s still here, so I can’t.”

You let out a bark of bewildered laughter, especially when you can hear your dad’s voice in the background as he groans.

“I get the idea,” You promise him, and you hear Bradley huff a soft laugh into the speaker. You almost want to record the call, just to keep the sound forever.

“When are you guys coming back?”

“I don’t know, Brad,” You lament, tailing Carole as she heads for the freeway exit, “Hopefully before dinner. But if not, I’ll definitely be there when you get discharged, and I can drive you home.”

“And we can shower,” Bradley adds on to your sentence, eliciting another disgruntled sound from your dad, “And sleep.”

“And we can shower and sleep,” You promise, chest feeling light at the night’s plan. You’re pulling into the motel parking lot now, the dingy sign colored more in spiderwebs than in neon.

“I’ve gotta go, Brad.” You put the car in park, grabbing your phone and switching speaker off, “I love you. I’ll see you later, okay?”

He’s hesitant to answer, and you wish you didn’t have to hang up. You know he’s still uneasy about the way that your talk ended earlier, but he finally speaks up, “Alright. Love you, too.”

“So much,” You hum, “Love you so much.”

“So much,” He agrees, more of that audible grin in his voice, “See you later, angel.”

“See ‘ya,” You hum, and it doesn’t hurt as much as you thought it would to hang up, not after that.

Carole’s standing ready at the strip of doors, and you pull the small, rusty key out of your pocket. There’s nearly ten boxes stacked in your room, and you prop the door open with one as you gather anything that isn’t packed away.

You haven’t changed clothes much since being there, nor have you been keeping up with your hygiene as well as you should be, so the clean-up process feels like a day's worth, not two week’s worth. But you’re thankful for the easy pickup as you load it into a half-empty box, hauling it out the door and to the Bronco.

Packing the boxes goes fast when you work with Carole. It had been much more of a struggle to cart two at a time from your place to the motel room, but with a little maneuvering, all nine boxes fit snugly between her car and yours.

“Alright,” You dust off your hands, picking at the edge of your nail, “You ready?”

“Actually, you go home,” She decides, “And I’ll go to the party supply store. I’ll pick up some ‘Welcome Home’ stuff, and when I get back I’ll help you with the rest of the boxes, and we can set up together.”

“Perfect,” You heave a sigh of relief, “Thanks, Carole.”

“Of course, baby!” She seems to have a never-ending supply of optimism, one that you’re thankful for because you seem to harbor the opposite.

Hauling your boxes back into the house is unexpectedly the easy part. What’s harder is putting everything back, filling in the gaps in the bookshelf with your own volumes, stuffing the dresser with the clothes you’d chosen to take with you.

When Carole gets back you’re dragging your thumb over the shirt you’d taken off of your pillow, ready to fold it and destroy the evidence of its association with your two-week disappearance. She peeks into the bedroom, expecting to find you hard at work organizing your novels, and instead sees you sitting on the bed looking like you’re going to puke.

“Baby,” She hums, “What’s the matter?”

“He put this over my pillow,” You sniffle, staring down forlornly at the object that had offered comfort to Bradley when you hadn’t, “He slept with it.”

“Oh, baby,” Carole whispers, standing behind you and rubbing your shoulders, “He loves you. Isn’t that a good thing? Don’t you think it means everything’ll turn out okay?”

“What if he doesn’t want me back?”

For the first time, you say it out loud. You’ve insinuated it, sure, thought about it, but you’ve never said it yet. Not out loud. You voice the fear that’s been bouncing around like a balloon in your head, popping it and feeling the aftershocks flow through you.

She’s quiet for a moment, not knowing what to say any more than you do. But she bends down, wraps her arms around your shoulders and hums, “He will, baby. He’s been sleepin’ with your shirt this whole time, he wouldn’t do that if he didn’t miss you.”

“But even if he misses me, I still hurt him,” You sniffle, “I- I left, is missing me enough for him to want me back in his life? What if I went too far? What if we can’t come back from this? What if I lose him forever, Carole?”

“He kept my ring.” She murmurs, her voice the calm to your storm.

“What?”

“He kept it. Even though it wasn’t on your finger, he didn’t give it back to me. And he wouldn’t dare give that to anyone else, Y/N. It’s your ring, he knows it. That’s why he kept it, ‘cause he still wanted you to have it. He loves you even if you did hurt him, baby,” She sniffles, and you feel bad that you’ve made her cry, “That’s what love is. Sometimes you hurt each other, but if it’s love you find your way back. And what you’ve got is the strongest love I’ve ever seen.”

Your silence is enough of a reply, and you’re glad because it’s all you can muster. You can’t find the words to thank her, to tell her you hope she’s right, to beg to whatever deity exists for mercy. All you can say is, “I don’t wanna take it off,” As you stroke a finger down the shirt over your pillow.

“Wear it,” She suggests, pulling at the sweatshirt you’re wearing, “Put that on underneath it, baby. He won’t notice, and you can have it on you as a reminder that he misses you. Maybe it’ll give you the courage to tell him.”

“Okay,” You sniff, a stray tear drying sticky on your cheek as you stand. She turns you around and pulls you into a real hug, and you let her squeeze you before going to the bathroom to change.

The shirt smells like Bradley now that he’s slept with it for two weeks. You’re sure you’re just immune to your own scent, and that he could still find traces of it to lull him to sleep at night, but wearing it now feels just as comforting as you bet it felt for him to sleep with it.

When you wander out of the bedroom you find Carole in the living room. She’s standing on your coffee table with her right leg, and her left is on the arm of the couch. She’s pinning a banner to the wall, ‘Welcome Home Bradley!’.

“Hey honey!” She beams at the sight of you in your shirt, you’d forgone the jacket to not overheat while moving things around.

“Do you need help?” You watch her drive a pin into the wall with her thumb, and she shakes her head as she reaches down for another one, “No, I’ve got this. You just take care of your boxes, I can handle the party.”

“Yeah, you get the fun part,” You tease, and she laughs.

“Darlin’, I wasn’t the one to take my puzzles and run. Now go put ‘em back, I’m sure they’re the first things Brad’ll notice are missing when he gets home.”

You head back into the bedroom without any complaints. It’s hard to put everything back. No, it’s nice to put everything back. What’s hard is pretending it was never gone in the first place; what’s hard is lying.

You slide a lone book into its place on the shelf, one last spot left beside a photo album. Your fingers brush over a gemstone on the cover and you tug at the hefty spine, catching the jam-packed book before it can fall.

“Wow,” You breathe, barely aware that you’re speaking out loud. The cover showcases Bradley pressed up against the hospital’s nursery glass, peering in on a very sleepy baby you snoozing in her bassinet with Carole holding him up. You’d been born shortly after Bradley, not even a year, and he’d been very excited to meet his new best friend at the hospital.

A flip to the first page finds you in your dad’s old apartment, sleeping in your crib while Bradley’s hand wraps around the bars he’d pulled himself up on. Then the next page showcases a photo of him in the crib, curled up in the space by your feet while you sleep peacefully in your own spot.

You take the photo out of its sleeve, flipping it over to read the inscription you know by heart on the back: Bradley’s attached to Y/N at the hip. Won’t sleep anywhere else.

The next photos are more of the same. Bradley holding you on the couch, a gummy grin on his face at the baby in his arms. His hands barely bigger than yours, handing you a toy fighter jet. Tummy time on a play mat, where he’s holding a rattle just out of reach to get you to crawl like he’d seen your parents do. A shot of you tugging on his wispy hair, then a shot of Nick dragging a crying Bradley into his lap while your dad holds your previously clenched fist open. They tell their own story.

You’d been fated best friends from the start, but as you age in the photos, your relationship changes. All of a sudden there’s puppy love in your gaze when you reach your tween years, braces in your mouth and hearts in your eyes. There’s a picture of Bradley teaching you how to skateboard, and you're holding his hands for dear life. You distinctly remember a fiery flush to your cheeks in that moment, and you’re glad the camera hadn’t captured it. There’s New Year’s Eve in your matching pajamas, you cradled in Bradley’s arms like they’d make you pose every year since you’d come into the world. It was cute when you were kids, then it was embarrassing when you were teenagers, and now it’s cute again. In the photo you’re looking at you can’t be more than fourteen, and you know the second the shutter clicked on the camera, you’d scrambled out of his arms like they were burning you.

You flip through more pages, watching your relationship blossom from friends into lovers. All of a sudden you’re holding hands, you’re matching outfits, and you’re kissing when you think no one is looking. Then there’s the famous picture of Bradley on his 18th birthday, glaring at the camera with a box of condoms in his hands, courtesy of his dad. Funnily enough, your dad shares Bradley’s expression in the background. The inscription on the back of that one reads: Just making sure he’s safe! Don’t want any grandkids, not while I’m still in my glory days - Goose.

That New Year’s Eve photo is special. It’s you still cradled in Bradley’s arms like always, but you’ve leaned up to kiss him, and he’s leaned down to kiss you. You distinctly remember it being the first time you’d willingly kissed on camera in front of your parents, and the giddy smiles you’d forced into makeshift puckers are clear as day in the photo.

The matching pajama sets you’ve outgrown together are all stored in a box marked ‘sentimental’, not one that you’d taken with you when you’d left. You have a current pair, red and black buffalo print bottoms with fuzzy black tops, and you plan on asking Bradley to wear them tonight.

You haven’t noticed, but a smile has grown on your face, etching itself into your features as you relive your love story. You flip through family vacations, holidays, birthdays, sports games, barbecues, a million family events that Bradley joined you at. There’s never any of you apart, even though he’d been moved around for his career, because no one has ever thought to take a picture of one of you without the other. There’s no Y/N in this book, there’s no Bradley, there’s only Y/N and Bradley, and that’s what you want to be for the rest of your life. You want to fill out the rest of this book with aging photos, clearer in quality while the old ones yellow. You want to stuff this book until the bindings rip, you want to look back through it one day in a rocking chair beside one of Bradley’s own, faces wrinkled and hair grayed. Your story can’t end here.

Your phone buzzes on the bed, and you drop the photo album there while you check your message. No surprise, it’s from Bradley.

- The doctor signed off, I can go home after dinner, which shouldn’t be too much longer. How’s it going over there?

That’s great! You type back, biting a smile off of your face as you respond. It’s residual from looking through the photos, but you have to remember, you’re not there yet. It’s going good. Your mom is scary agile.

- What’s she doing?

Can’t tell you ;)

- Damn! Thought I had you there. Your dad’s eating one of my cookies :(

Tell him I said to leave you alone!

- He says you’re not the boss of him.

Tell him your mom said to leave you alone.

- He says she’s not the boss of him.

Tell your dad to tell him to leave you alone. She’s his boss.

- My dad’s eating one too :(

Those assholes! I’ll make you more, baby ❤

- I love you best. ❤

I love you too baby ❤

The lingering fear of a breakup - a real one this time, one that doesn't rewind itself amidst burning jet fuel - is stuck in the back of your mind, and you suspect it will be until you finally confess. But the photo album and Bradley’s messages have combined to lift your spirits, and filing your shoes back into their places doesn’t weigh you down as much as you suspected it would. You try to make them look haphazard, jumbling them with Bradley’s and turning a few of them upside down. You two are notorious for having out of control shoe collections, Bradley’s sneakers and your own shoes constantly tumbling out of the closet like a cartoon.

By the time the sun starts setting early on your California dream you’re nearly done, there’s just a few last garments to slip into your closet. You do so while wrestling with the clothes that are already in there, a hefty collection that leaves little room for the dress you’re trying to wedge inside. Nevertheless, a too-full closet is better than a half-empty one.

“Sugar?” Carole calls from down the hallway, hopefully not precariously balanced on any furniture this time, “Nick says they’re just serving Brad his dinner.”

You finally manage to set the clothes right on their hangers, panting slightly as you withdraw from the closet, “Okay! I’m almost done. We have a lot of clothes.”

She laughs, “Yes you do! You should eat somethin’ before we leave.”

“There’s no food here,” You sigh, “The fridge is empty. I’ll have to go shopping later. I’ll just stop for fast food on the way.”

“Party’s all set up,” Carole nods, jerking her head back towards the hallway, “If you keep the lights off in the living room tonight, he won’t see it until tomorrow.”

“Okay. Are you coming over to celebrate?”

“Yeah, I was thinkin’ for breakfast,” Carole nods, “We can bring food?”

You laugh huffily, “I wasn’t kidding about there being nothing in the fridge. Anything’s appreciated, thanks, Carole.”

“Anytime, baby,” She beams, but reconsiders with a slightly furrowed brow, “Although, I hope this is the only time.”

“Me too,” You scoff, “Alright, let’s head back.”

True to your word, you pull through a fast-food drive-thru on the way back to the hospital. Carole knows Nick’s order, and you know your dad’s, hopeful that they’ll be tired of hospital cuisine and yearning for a burger instead.

However, when you get there, they’re waiting in the lobby, Bradley sat between them. You hadn’t realized how early they were letting him out, and Carole takes the bag of food from you so that you can properly hug Bradley. He stands the moment he sees you, eyes pooling with such urgency as he tries to respect the no-running rule of the hospital. You struggle just the same, and the moment you’re within arms reach of each other, tears start flowing. Bradley yanks you into his chest, almost tipping you forwards and himself backwards with the momentum of his hug. His chin nestles straight over your shoulder, as does yours to his, and it’s the kind of hug you get from him after a long deployment, maybe even more desperate now. His breathing is ragged beside your ear, but not from his medical conditions, from the desperation clogging his lungs. His fist is tight in the back of your sweatshirt but the fabric is loose on you, and it’s not a tight enough hold for him. His fingers scrabble for the shirt beneath the hoodie, gripping onto both garments and keeping you closer than you ever thought you could be with Bradley. Your hands immediately encircle his shoulders, and your fingers find purchase against the baby hairs at the back of his neck. You scratch through the ones at his nape, hearing him sniffle sharply where his chin rests on your shoulder. The hand that isn’t fisted in your clothes is tight to your hip, gripping you so hard that you can feel his nails through the jeans you’re wearing. It’s not painful, it’s just firm, and its strength is reassuring. It’s grounding to hug Bradley again, unobscured by breathing tubes, hospital beds, or prying nurses.

You hear someone’s phone camera sound off, but you’re far from discouraging it. In fact, you’re going to ask whoever it was to send you the photo later. The hug turns into an embrace, one where you sway lightly from side to side, anything that isn’t you or Bradley fading into the background. Your eyes are screwed shut but tears still cascade down your cheeks, melancholy waterfalls that drip off of the curve of your chin and stain Bradley’s t-shirt. He’s dressed in what he’d been wearing beneath his flight suit, the material thankfully not ripped or burnt thanks to the coveralls. You take the lead, pulling back, but he keeps the same level of contact with you. When your chin slips from his shoulder he grabs your face instead, using it to keep you pressed tight to his body. His eyes are teary themselves, streaks of the shimmery stuff down his cheeks and probably in his mustache, too.

“Hi,” You croak, smiling giddily through your tears.

He smiles, though the chubbing of his cheeks nudges a few more tears out of his eyes, “Hi.”

You smear them away with the palm of your hand, and use your thumb to rid him of the ones clinging to his undereyes. His hands are on your cheeks, too, and he tries mirroring your ministrations, but his thumbs are too shaky to do so. For fear of poking your eyes out, he clamps his hands over your cheeks again, content with holding you while your tears run over the hills and valleys of his fingers.

“You’re standing,” You marvel, ‘I thought you’d be in a wheelchair.”

“It hurts a little bit,” Bradley admits with a slight grimace, and you back away like you’ve been struck. He doesn’t let you get far at all, dropping your face to tug you back by your waist, “-but I’d rather break another rib than let you go.”

“Sap,” You accuse, and Bradley laughs.

His lips twist into a sheepish smile, “Maybe. You can be my tree. I’m stuck on you.”

You sniffle, brow furrowing, “Huh? ‘Cause of the sap thing?”

“Yeah,” He laughs, “Isn’t that what it means? Sticky and sweet like tree sap?”

“I don’t know,” You breathe bashfully, your voice rife with part confusion and part sheepishness, “I guess that makes sense. But I’ve never been called a tree before.”

“I’ll work on my flirting,” He promises, stroking his thumbs up and down your sides in soft, soothing motions, “Can we go home now?”

You nod, “You should hug your mom first.” Only then does Bradley remember that you’re not the only other person in the room, turning in your grip to see your mini crowd of adoring onlookers.

He chuckles, “Sorry. Hi, mom.”

“Hi baby,” She gushes, letting him squeeze her in a hug. He’s much more gentle with her, out of longing for you, not disrespect.

Nick reaches over to ruffle his hair and your dad nudges you sideways, “Happy to have him back?”

“Yeah,” You gush, a breathless whisper, “Nervous, though,” You admit, “What if he slips in the shower, or something? Or- or some freak accident happens and he doesn’t wake up?”

“He will,” Your dad slings an arm around your shoulders, squeezing you close by your shoulders, “He’ll be alright, kid. And hopefully by tomorrow he’ll remember everything, maybe look at some pictures tonight to jog his memory. Show him stuff you took of these past few weeks, the places you went or the food you ate.”

You don’t have any pictures of your pitiful motel room, nor the candy bars you’d raided the minifridge for, but you wouldn’t show them to Bradley if you did.

You nod, breaking away when Bradley searches for you after his hug with Carole, “Thanks, dad.”

“You gonna be okay getting settled tonight, Brad?” Nick asks, already bringing a french fry to his mouth from the bag in his hand. Your dad has your food as well as his own, and you take your bag back from him as Bradley nods.

“Yeah, we’ll be fine. Thanks, guys.”

Everyone says their hasty goodbyes, and your hug with Carole lasts a second longer than you hope anyone notices.

“Tell him.” She whispers against your ear, the words a feather light breath, “He loves you.”

“I’ll feed you in the car,” Bradley grabs the bag of food from your hand when you nudge him towards the exit, “Can I have fries?”

“You’ve been on a diet of chicken and potatoes for two days,” You take the hand that he offers you, curling your fingers around his, “You can have the whole burger if you want, Brad.”

Bradley stops short in front of the bronco when he sees it, “There she is!”

“She’s here,” You laugh, “Perfect condition. The air freshener’s still good.”

“Poor baby,” He heads for the passenger’s seat, swiping a hand over the hood of the car on his way, “She probably thought we forgot about her.”

He settles comfortably in the passenger’s seat, though you’re sure it feels awkward to be there in his own car. He throws his head back against the seat and sighs, long and loud, a noise he would have made fun of his dad for making mere years ago.

“Comfy?” You glance sideways at him, your food in his lap while he rests against the seat. He nods, reaching for the bag as you start up the engine.

“Here baby,” He calls, popping two fries in front of your mouth just before you turn out of the parking lot, “Fries.”

You carefully bite them out of his hand, tipping your head back to get them fully into your mouth. You mumble ‘thanks’ through them, and you’re not sure if he can make out what you’re saying, but you hope it’s obvious.

“I can’t wait to get in bed,” He groans, “I know it’s only been a few days, but I can’t remember being there for three weeks.”

“It’s cold without you,” You hum forlornly, checking your blind spot before merging, your hands stiff on the wheel. Your words leave more of an aftertaste on your tongue than the fries do, and it’s an unpleasant one. They mean more than you let on, and your brain is clouded thick with the worry of sleeping in a cold bed for the rest of your life.

There’s a moment of silence that Bradley lets follow your words, then he promises, “I’ll be there tonight. And every night after that.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Burger?”

He laughs, leaning in his seat when you turn, “Burger.”

He holds the food up to your mouth, letting you take a bite that smears sauce over your mouth. He takes a napkin, cleaning up after you and dabbing all of the mess away. You’re absolutely certain that if you weren’t on the road, he would have kissed it off. You make a mental note to eat just as messily when you get home, for experimental purposes.

“Can I have a bite?” He asks tentatively, and you turn at a red light to smile and nod.

“‘Course, Brad. I meant it, if you want it you can have the whole thing.”

“I don’t want you to go hungry,” He hums, taking a chunk to the left of your bite mark, “Thanks, babe. Fuck, that's good.”

“Did they finish your cookies?” You exit the freeway, muscle memory guiding you home.

Bradley speaks through a mouthful of burger, unpleasant to hear but somehow endearingly domestic, like he’s not worried about looking handsome for you. “Yeah. I got one more, but they mowed through the rest.”

“Those bitches,” You hiss, and he laughs, “Okay, we’ll bake tomorrow. But I’m keeping the vanilla away from you.”

He scoffs, “Always with the vanilla. I drank it one time!”

“One time is enough for a lifetime ban!” You insist, turning onto your street, “Okay, you shower and I’ll eat, then we can get into bed.”

“Sounds good,” He drawls, stuffing your food back into its bag and swapping it to you for the keys, “I’ll be quick in the shower.”

“No rush,” You croon, holding the hand that he offers you as you take on the front walkway together, “Don’t hurt yourself because you’re too eager to get into bed. It’ll be there even if you take your time.”

You’re bound for the kitchen and Bradley the bedroom, but you remember you have to keep the lights off so that he doesn’t see your decorations. You send him off with a kiss at the hallway, intent on watching him leave before setting up at the table.

“Goodbye,” You hum, standing with your lips puckered in the doorway of the hall, “If you need help, just yell for me.”

“Will do,” He nods, puckering his own lips and pressing them to yours with a cartoonish smack! You watch his ginger walk towards the bedroom, his hips off balance as his ribs ache in his chest.

Once you’re in the clear you flick the kitchen light on, choosing to stand at the counter instead of dirty the table. You busy yourself with your phone, tapping on an impatient text from Carole: ‘Have you told him yet?’

Not yet. You write back, munching on a french fry, Not in the car. He didn’t ask, either.

- Don’t lose your nerve, you can almost hear the critical tone of her voice just by reading her message, The longer you lie, the more he’ll worry about you.

I know. I’ll tell him.

- ❤️

“Babe?” You hear Bradley call over the stream of the shower, “Babe!”

You abandon the last few fries in the container, stuffing your phone into your pocket to rush to his aide. Horror flashes through your mind, visions of Bradley bleeding down the drain or hunched over in pain.

All you see when you burst into the bathroom is him looking like a puppy in the rain, a pitiful pout on his face as water runs down his face and through his mustache.

“I can’t wash my hair,” He laments, “It hurts.”

You can’t help but coo, “Oh, baby. Lemme help you.”

“Thanks,” He mumbles, “I already have the shampoo.”

True to his word, there’s shampoo smeared over his hands. Apparently he’d tried his best, but couldn’t move well enough with his broken ribs. You try not to laugh at his misfortune, especially because he’s in pain, but he’s just too cute to ignore. You try to muscle down the thought that this might be the last time you ever shower with Bradley, even if you’re not really in the water with him. You wet your hands, then wipe the shampoo off of his palms, reaching for his scalp.

“I’m sorry I’m making you stand in front of me naked and we’re not having sex,” Bradley huffs, “Believe me, if I thought I could, I’d be jumping you right about now.”

“It’s okay,” You chuckle, muffling the sound into Bradley’s forehead that you kiss chastely, “We should hold off on sex, at least until your ribs are healed.

Or until you know the truth.

“They don’t hurt too bad now,” Bradley muses, “But when I raised my arms to shampoo, it was really bad.”

“I’ll reach for things for you,” You promise, scrubbing shampoo into his scalp. It knocks loose leftover ash from his accident, and it flows down the drain in a swirl of gray bubbles.

“Oh, fuck,” For not having sex, Bradley’s making some awfully pornographic sounds, “That feels good.”

“I’ll bet,” you hum, “Can’t imagine having ash in my hair for that long.”

“It’s not pleasant. Oh god, babe,” He groans, “Hurry up and rinse it out, I’m gonna fall asleep standing up.”

“Okay! Okay,” You laugh, scrubbing in one last circle at the nape of his neck then reaching for the showerhead, “Have you washed your body already?”

“Yeah,” He murmurs, letting the water flow through his hair and rinse the shampoo out, “Oh my god, this is what heaven feels like.”

“Come on,” You smile, reaching for a towel, “Do you need help drying off?”

“You just wanna feel up my thighs,” Bradley accuses, and you laugh good-naturedly.

“Nope. Ass.” You admit, “But if you can do it yourself, then go ahead.”

“No!” He catches you as you stuff the towel to his chest, pulling you back towards the shower, “Uh, I need help. I think you should wipe down my very toned chest and my tight butt.”

“Oh, really? That’s what you’re having trouble with?” You snicker, and Bradley nods proudly.

“Yep. Can’t get my hands over my shredded back either, such a shame.”

“Alright, you flirt,” You scoff, “Turn around.”

You start on his back, and of course, it’s very fit. It’s nothing you haven’t touched before, in fact, you’re surprised there’s no scars there from your fingernails, but this is more intimate, more romantic, more sweet. This is love, not lust. You scrub the towel over his skin, wiping the water droplets away and rubbing into his tight muscles. You take extra care to dry off the small of his back, smoothing the towel down over his ass, too. Despite his earlier cheekiness, he doesn’t make any comments while you’re working. You wrap the towel around his thighs, pressing a kiss to his hip as you bend down to dry his calves off. He stands still to let you get his ankles dry, and you tap his foot to turn him around.

Now he’s looking down at you as you towel off his calves again, getting any splotches of water you may have missed before. You dry out the soft tuft of hair at his groin and move to his chest before you can tempt yourself, not wanting your first sexual encounter after a life-threatening plane crash to be a blowjob up against the shower wall. Especially not before you tell him the truth.

Now that you’re on your feet you’re face-to-face, though yours is bent slightly to track any water droplets you might have missed on his shoulders. You towel off his underarms carefully, making sure not to aggravate his muscles that are already bleeding pain through his gut. You swipe the towel over his neck, and in doing so, you’ve set your hand just below his chin. It’s as natural as breathing to slide it up his jaw, and he’s already staring at you, breath shaky as you return his gaze.

He moves first, but you take his cue right away. He leans in to kiss you and you’re happy to press your mouth to his own, not caring that there’s a drop of water leftover between his fingers that transfers to your skin when he cups your face.

“Baby,” He whimpers, desperate and longing, “I- I missed you.”

There’s tears beading at the corners of his eyes, and you manage a sad smile when you wipe them away, “Why, silly? I was only gone for a few hours.”

“I know. I just- I’m real shaken up,” He admits, “I- I don’t even remember the crash and that’s the scary part. I almost died and I’ve got no clue what happened. I feel lost, like- like I’m still stalling or something, just waiting to crash.”

“I’m so sorry,” You croon through your own tears, “Brad, that must be so scary, I- I can’t even imagine.”

“I just need you,” He breathes, clutching at your shoulders like they’ll recover his plane, “Just don’t leave, please.”

“Sweetheart,” You coo, equally endeared and saddened by his sudden panic, “We're not at the hospital anymore, there's no visiting hours. Why would I leave? We're home, we’re gonna get changed, and then we’re gonna go to sleep. You’re safe now, okay?”

“Okay,” He nods, voice a mere whisper, “Okay, let’s sleep.”

“Clothes first,” You remind him through a cheeky grin, and the expression scrunches your tear-stained cheeks, cracking the stiffened substance, “We’re sleeping.”

“Alright, alright,” He laughs as you poke at his bare chest, “Will you help me? I managed to bend over and slide my t-shirt off but I don’t think putting something on will be as easy.”

“Mhm. I was hoping,” You reach for the sets of matching pajamas, holding them up enticingly, “You’d match with me?”

He laughs, the sound thick and genuine in his bruised chest, “Of course. I won’t look as good as you, though.”

“Yeah, my mustache is better,” You sigh, scratching a nail over your upper lip that’s morphing into a grin. You whirl on him with his shirt, helping ease his arms into the fabric and stretching the neck hole over his head so that he doesn’t have to bend down. All in all, it works, even if the neckline is a little stretched. He doesn’t need help with his pants, but you feel compelled to do it anyways, sliding his boxers and then the soft material up his legs and tying it tight at the waistband.

“Thanks, honey.” He murmurs, bending at the waist and sitting on his side of the bed, “Fuck, that’s nice.”

“Lay down,” You push against his chest, helping him recline against his pillows, “I’ll be right back, B.”

You change quickly, too eager to crawl into bed beside Bradley to care that you’ve left one bite of burger and a few lone fries on the counter. Ants be damned, you’ll clean up tomorrow. When you emerge from the closet you wriggle happily beneath the covers next to Bradley, flicking the light by the doorway off so that all that’s left is your bedside lamp.

When you settle on your pillow he’s already looking at you, and the tip of his nose bumps your own. You melt into a girlish giggle, something that a teenager would produce after a particularly bad pickup line and a single red rose.

“Hi,” You gush, overjoyed to have him so close again. You kiss his nose in your fervent enthusiasm, and he smiles sleepily against his pillow.

“Hi,” He hums, reaching for your waist and pulling you close, “C’mere.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” You stiffen, but he molds your body to his anyways, “Brad, be careful.”

“I will be! I said it before, you can’t break me. Just let me hold you.”

You croon a sad sound as he wraps you in his arms, a sound of longing, of adoration, of grief. He clocks it as sweetness, though, and holds you close. Your face is buried in his chest and you feel his lips move against your scalp when he speaks.

“Y/N,” He starts, and your heart rate spikes at just your name, “About earlier-”

“Tomorrow.” You blurt, anguish rising in your chest, “Brad, can we- can we talk tomorrow? I’m not trying to hide from you,” You promise, but you’re nestled into his chest and muffling your voice, “I trust you with the way that I'm feeling, I just- I just want to sleep. I want to breathe for a minute. And we can talk tomorrow, is that okay?”

He takes a moment to deliberate, really, truly thinking about it. While he does so, your hands tighten in his shirt, desperately clinging to him. But eventually he nods, disjointedly so into the crown of your head, “Okay.” His hands tighten around your waist as he speaks, and you melt into his embrace, scooting impossibly closer. “Okay, honey, we’ll talk tomorrow. Let’s just sleep.”

Settling into his embrace has never been so easy. Since the moment you'd been in them for the first time only hours old in the hospital, you’d known his arms were made for holding you. They’ve been yours for as long as you can remember, even longer than that according to the photo album you’d skimmed through earlier. Bradley had been the third person to hold you, second only to your parents. Sure, he couldn’t remember it either, and Nick and Carole were probably doing most of the work keeping you balanced in his little lap, but the point is, he was made for holding you, and you were made for being held by him. Your face tucks so naturally under the curve of his chin and your lips press even easier to his throat, kissing at his voice that you love so much. It comes out to thank you for the adoration in a gentle hum, one that thrums against your lips.

His hands revel in their access to the extent of your back, brushing and roving and stroking over every inch of the space he’s granted. It’s ticklish but you don’t dare squirm, letting his fingers send miniscule bolts of electricity through your skin.

“I love you,” He reminds you as he holds you close, the sleepiness fogging his brain clear as day in his voice, “I really, really do.”

“I love you too, Bradley.” You promise, kissing up his chin to his lips. The pecks you plant there are short, sweet, and chaste, but when you’re done laying them over his face you decide that you want to fall asleep facing him, not hidden away in his chest. Sure, it’s warm and safe there, but you can’t drift off to his sweet face if you can’t see it.

Your solution is to plop your head back onto your pillow, throwing a leg over his waist to keep yourself close. His eyes are droopy, and hold all of the tender sweetness of the puppies he so often resembles. He’s clearly exhausted, and your own eyes slip shut at the sight of his struggling to stay open.

“Night, Brad.” You yawn, settling against your pillow with the tip of your nose brushing his own, “Welcome home.”

“Night, baby. Love you,” He gushes, as if you hadn’t just exchanged the words seconds prior. But it feels good, it feels right, so you say it back.

“Love you, too.” You use the last of your energy to reciprocate, sleep taking hold of you in its comforting embrace. You slip away like sand into unconsciousness, all of your thoughts about love, and life, and Bradley, and none of the horrific possibility of his memories returning. Nothing’s going to ruin this moment for you, not now.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

1K notes · View notes

blueink01 · 10 months ago

Text

Ch. 1: The Hazbin Hotel

Unknown Amount of Time After Arriving in Hell-

The chapter starts with a voiceover of The Princess of Hell, Charlie singing:

"~At the end of the rainbow, there's happiness.~" A human is falling down from the sky as a rainbow bursts upwards through the clouds.

"~And to find it, how often I've tried.~" Charlie is seen being told off by her father.

"~But, my life, is a race. Just a wild goose chase.~" Camera pans over to where a figure was pointing at, which shows hell being circled by Angels

"~And my dreams, have all been denied. Why have I always been a failure?~" A shadow of Lucifer looms over a disappointed Charlie as demonic arms and tentacles cover the screen

"~What can the reason be? I wonder if the world's to blame.~" The Earth rotates as many eyes begin to surround it.

"~I wonder if it could be me.~" The Exorcists are seen smiling deviously as they look down upon the souls they have gotten rid of. The scene turns to black as the camera focuses on the middle Exorcist's face and halo.

"~I'm always chasing rainbows. Watching clouds drifting by.~" The scene fades in on graffiti and signs that says "F**k You, Heaven", "Punishment" and "Your Days Are Numbered" can be seen throughout Hell.

"~My schemes are just like all my dreams. Ending in the sky.~" Charlie heads towards a buildings's balcony as she releases fireworks that signals the rest of Hell that the extermination has ended.

"~Some fellows look and find the sunshine.~" A handful of demons are seen checking the area to see if the coast is all clear.

"~I always look and find the rain.~" An Overlord opens the blinds to her room, revealing the display of fireworks. The camera then proceeds to show a four-eyed Overlord with Yn sat on his lap lovingly.

"~Some fellows make a winning sometime.~" At The Porn Studios, Velvette takes a selfie with Vox wheres Valentino is not amused when he sees that hes got a text from his employee.

"~I never even make a gain. Believe me.~" Two demons check to see if Franklin is still alive and proceed to head offscreen as the cannibals waiting nearby pounce onto her dead body. Rosie then crosses out Franklin's name from the sign above their business.

"~I'm always chasing rainbows.~" A demon can be seen cleaning up what's been left of the extermination as other demons begin to freely walk about in the open.

"~*in tears* & Waiting to find a little bluebird. In vain.~" Charlie looks back at the clock tower as it resets the timer for the next yearly cleanse.

-Time Skip-

A sinner has fallen into Hell and has been transformed into a demon. He falls face-first onto the road and is surprised to see that he is still "alive".

"Aaaaah! Ugh. Huh?" He checks himself.

"I'm alive! I'm alive-" He then gets run over by a taxi driven by Travis which Angel Dust walks out of, Travis snickers.

"Heh. Thanks for the fun time, hot stuff!" Angel Dust pushes his hand through his hair.

"Yeah, yeah, listen. Keep this discreet, you hear me? I can't let it get out I'm offerin' my services to randos on the street! It was a quick cash grab. Ya got it!" He makes a gesture with his fingers and snaps his fingers at him, smiling.

"Pfft! Whatever you say, slut! Muhehehehehehe!" He laughs, Angel Dust pretends to be offended.

"Ouch! Ooh! Such an insult! Let me know when you've come up with something creative to call me." He looms over Travis and points at him with all his index fingers.

"You sack of poorly packaged horse sh*t! Tell the missus I said "'hi", Shnuckums!"

"Pack a - puh.." As Travis angrily drives off, Angel looks behind him to see a vending machine for his namesake drugs. He goes for the Angel Dust and just as he gets a hold of it, a random demon runs by and steals his drugs.

"Yoink!"

"Hey!"

"Up yours, drag show!" A boulder proceeds to fall out of the sky, crushing the feathered demon alongside Angel's drugs.

"Oh my GOD!" Angel gasps. He leans in to pick up what's left of his pack of drugs with a devastated look on his face.

"MY DRUGS!" He yells.

"Damn it!" He clenches the cloth angrily and looks up. A war ship can be seen passing by, destroying its surroundings.

The camera zooms in on the war ship, revealing Sir Pentious and his henchmen inside.

"Ahahahahahahahahahahah! Those other cowardly ssssinners dare not hinder my territorial take over! A wise decision! The power of my machines are unmatched!" He proceeds to push two levers as his hood flares open.

"No other demon can compare to the likesss of I!"

Egg Boi #23: "Gee! That was pretty swell, boss!"

Egg Boi #666: "Yeah!"

Other Egg Boi: "You really showed them what for! I liked when you." His hand mimics the action of a shooting ray gun.

Other Egg Boi: "Shot them with your ray gun" He gets slapped away by Sir Pentious.

Egg Boi #23: "I wish he'd shoot me with his ray gun!" Other Egg Boi pats him as Sir Pentious' hood flares open.

"At this rate, I will seize control of the entire west side of the Pentagram by day's end! And nothing, not a single beast in this inferno of suffering will be able to take back this empire from my constrictive grasp!" An Egg Boi suddenly pops on screen and pops open a bottle of whiskey onto Sir Pentious face. Sir Pent proceeds to swat said Egg Boi aside.

Random Egg Boi: "Oh, boy!"

"Hell will be mine! And everybody will know the name of Sir Pen-"

"EDGELORD!" Sir Pentious is interrupted by a scream coming from offscreen. Sir Pentious and two Egg Bois become surprised.

"Pardon?!" He looks around angrily and eyes the two Egg Bois behind him.

"Who said that?! What did you just say to me, you fried chicken fetuses?! Speak up!"

The Two Egg Bois: "That wasn't us, Mr. Bossman." A small bomb with a print of a skull on it breaks through Sir Pent's ship. It then lands right between Sir Pentious and the two Egg Bois. The bomb proceeds to blow up, leaving red smoke behind. As the smoke clears up, the owner of the scream is revealed to be Cherri Bomb as she prepares another borab in hand.

"You lookin' for a fight, old man?!" She begins to juggle around her cherry bomb.

"Why don't you get that tinker toy bullsh*t off my turf before I.." She proceeds to throw and catch the bomb in her hands.

"...smash it?!" A large pipe falls on top of an already dead Egg Boi, crushing him as Sir Pentious and Cherri momentarily look at the carnage "...More!"

"Oh! You wanna go, missy?! Well, I'm happy to oblige! Ahahah!" Sir Pentious is then backed up by his henchmen of Egg Bois.

The logo for 666 News is shown on a black background, which is followed by the day's newscast.

"Good afternoon, I'm Katie Killjoy."

"And I'm Tom Trench! Chaos out at Pentagram City today as a turf war is raging on the west side!" An image of Sir Pentious trying to be hip, followed by a drawing of Cherri flipping the bird is shown.

"Between notable kingpin, Sir Pentious, and self-proclaimed spunky powerhouse, Cherri Bomb!"

"That's right, Tom! After the recent extermination, many areas are now up for grabs! Demons all over Hell are already duking it out to gain new territory!" A live clip of Cherri and Sir Pentious's clash is shown.

"Those two seem to be really going at it, huh?"

"Looks like they're fighting tooth and nail." She fishes out a tooth and a nail respectively from her mug of coffee.

"For that hot spot!" She proceeds to swallow said tooth and nail while Tom looks over at the live broadcast focusing on Cherri.

"And I'd sure like to nail her hot spot! Hoohoo!"

"Haha, you are a limp-d*ck jacka** Tom! Or should I say-" She pours scalding hot coffee onto his crotch, "No d*ck?" She laughs.

"Ugh... not again!" Screen shows a picture of Charlie as Tom can still be heard whimpering in pain in the background.

"Coming up next, we have an exclusive interview with the daughter of Hell's own head honcho who's here to discuss her brand new passion project! All that and more, after the break!" She crushes her mug in her hand and turns to Trench who's still in pain.

"Suck it up, you little bi-!" The news cast cuts off and goes on a commercial break. The camera pans out from a nearby screen, focusing on Charlie and as Vaggie fixes Charlie's bow.

"When is Yn coming?" Charlie said worriedly.

"She said she'll be a little late but you remember what to say?" Charlie inhales deeply.

"Yes! Let's do this!" She smiles determinedly.

"Just, look at me and I'll mouth it to you." Vaggie forced a smile.

"Come on, Vaggie! I know what to say! I just feel like we need to... I don't know." She grabs and throws a doughnut away, "Make things sound more exciting! Hooo! What if I si-".

"Sing a song about it?" Vaggie rolls her eyes.

"You knew I was gonna say that!" Charlie boops Vaggie on the nose.

"Because I know you. But, please don't sing!" She shakes Charlie. "This is serious! Yn may like to hear you sing but now is not the right time." Vaggie sighed.

"Well, you know, I'm better at expressing myself and my goals through a song!" Charlie smiles, standing on the table where Razzle and Dazzle happily munching on doughnuts, watching her.

"But, life isn't a musical, hon" Vaggie places her hands on her hips.

"Fine. But, I have these other ideas of what to say!" She starts bouncing a bit as she shows Vaggie a piece of paper.

"The highlighted bits are the best part!"

"Uh... A wedding plan?"

"Huh?!" Charlie grabs the paper from Vaggie and looks at it then smiles.

"Oh! This is our and Yn's future wedding plan!" Vaggie smiles and blushes while Charlie is looking at the piece of paper but then she puts it away and takes out another piece of paper.

"This is the one." Vaggie grabs the piece of paper.

"Uh, it's all highlighted. Is this a drawing..?"

"Yes! That's the happy ending, see?! Everyone smiling and happy in Heaven!" Vaggie pinches the bridge of her nose.

"I don't think it's that simple. Just please follow the talking points we went over. And-" She grabs Charlie to face her.

"Do not sing!" She warned.

"Okay, fine. I'll just have to resort to my impeccable improv skills!" She salutes Vaggie as she walks over to Katie Killjoy.

"Hi! I'm Charlie!" Charlie spoke nervously, Charlie tries to go for a handshake.

"Katie Killjoy." She blows out the smoke of her cigarette, "I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you, but that would be a lie." She throws away her cigarette, "And you can put that away." Katie gestures to Charlie's hand, "I don't touch the gays.... I have standards!" Katie rolled her eyes, Vaggie heard as she clenched her fist.

"Yeah? How's uh... how's that working out for ya?" Charlie turns to look around nervously.

"Look, my time is money. So, I'll keep this short." She proceeds to poke Charlie, "You're not here because we wanted you here. You're here because Jeffrey couldn't make it for his cannibal cooking segment."

A billboard of Jeffrey's cannibalism cooking show titled "It's Dahm Good!" can be seen in the background, "You might be some royal big shot..."

She fluffs her hair, "But that doesn't mean sh*t to me. I'm too rich and too influential to give a flying f**k about what some tux-wearing demon "princess" wants to avertise." Katie crossed her arms. Tom can be seen shaking his head in disapproval as Katie boasts about her wealth and influence to Charlie.

"But, I-" Charlie gulped.

"So, don't get cute with me, honey, or I will f**king bury you!" Katie Killjoy continues to poke her chest.

"And we're live!" News Staff said. Killjoy rushes back to her desk, holding papers while cracking her neck.

"Welcome back! So, Charlotte!" Katie kept her forced smile as she looked at Charlie.

"It's... Charlie." She smiles nervously as a spotlight flashes her way.

"Whatever. Tell us about this new passion project you've been insistently pestering our news station about!" Katie tries to hold in her outburst by clenching her pen.

Charlie looks around as Vaggie motions her to go on, "Well..." Charlie clears her throat and exhales, "...as most of you know, I was born here in Hell and growing up, I always tried to see the good in everyone around me!" Charlie smiled. Killjoy spots a slug and stabs it with her pen, the slug's blood bursts all over.

"Hell is my home and-" She gets slug blood splattered across her cheek which she then wipes off, "You are my people. We... we just went through another extermination." Vaggie is seen giving Charlie two thumbs up as Killjoy quickly starts to lose interest.

"We lost so many souls, and it breaks my heart to see my people being slaughtered every year. No one is even given a chance!" She slams fist on table, waking Killjoy up. Charlie walks up from Killjoy's desk.

"I can't stand idly by while the place I live is subjected to such violence! So, I've been thinking: Isn't there a more humane way to hinder overpopulation here in Hell?" She walks around the audience.

"Perhaps we can create an alternative way to change souls through... redemption?" She throws her arm around one of the News Cast's staff members.

"Well, I think yes! So, that's what this project aims to achieve!" She returns to Killjoy's desk.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm opening the first of its kind! A hotel that rehabilitates sinners!" Her broadcast is being shown at The Radio Shack, which many other demons are also watching by the streets and everywhere else in Hell. Charlie starts to lose her confidence.

"Y'know? 'Cause hotels are for people passin' through. temporarily.." She gulped.

"Ahahaha! IS this girl for real?! She thinks." The lizard demon tries to hold in his laughter, "You hear what she thinks?! She thi. HAHA! Ah, she's nuts." He walks out of The Kaiju Klub with his friends.

"I think it'll serve a purpose... a place to work toward redemption.. yay..!" Charlie seemed more worried. The scene cuts back to the demons watching her broadcast from The Radio Shack. A mysterious figure walks up to see her broadcast alongside a bunch of other demons watching such as Crymini and a handful of others.

"Stupid b*tch." Vaggie punches the cameraman square in the face Charlie looks around, saddened.

"Look, every single one of you has something good, deep down inside. I know you do! Maybe I'm not getting through to you." Razzle and Dazzle are then alerted that Charlie's about to sing and that she may need their back-up vocals. Vaggie facepalms.

"Oh no... Yn please come soon..." Charlie snaps her fingers as the room turns dark and a spotlight is shown over a piano that Charlie, Razzle and Dazzle start performing on. Meanwhile, back at The Radio Shack, Alastor and his shadow can be seen tilting their heads curiously as their smiles widen.

-Plays Song-

Charlie ends the song, rather exhausted as everyone in the news station looks at her with disgust and disbelief.

"Wow! ...That was sh*t!" Top hat demon declared.

Everyone in the audience including Killjoy and Trench begin to laugh at Charlie. Charlie looks crushed and devastated and slumps back down to her seat.

Outside the building the Magne limousine stops right at the front, the back door opens and Yn steps out of the car with small black and purple marks all over her neck, Yn touches the marks.

"I think Zestial and Carmilla did this on purpose." Yn looks up at the building and growls.

There was a boo section in the news and the demons look uninterested.

"Booooo!" The demon called out, Blue Flame Demon looked deadpan.

"What in the Nine Circles makes you think a single denizen of Hell would give two sh*ts about becoming a better person?! You have no proof that this little experiment even works! You want people to be good?! Just... because?!" Katie continues to laugh.

"Well, we have a patron already, who believes in our cause and he's shown incredible progress!" Charlie smiles brightly.

Katie Killjoy feigns shock, "Oh? And who might that be?" She smirks.

Charlie tries to look smug and confident, "Oh, just someone named... Angel Dust!" She smirked.

"The porn star?" Tom snickered.

Katie Killjoy turns to him menacingly, "You fucking would, Tom!" She turns back to Charlie, "In any case, that's not even an accomplishment. I'm sure you could get that hooker to do anything with enough booger sugar and lube." Katie motions doing a handjob.

"Oh, I beg to differ!" Charlie clenched her fist and begins to count on her fingers., "He's been behaved, clean, and out of trouble for two weeks now."

News Staff spoke offscreen, "Breaking News!" Killjoy shoves Charlie off her desk.

"We are receiving word that a new player has entered the ongoing turf war! Let's go to the live feed.." Katie smiled her usual smile.

The live feed shows Angel Dust stepping on an Egg Boi and throwing a grenade over at Sir Pentious with visible laughter in the background as Charlie stares at the screen in defeat.

"Oh...sh*t.." Charlie gulped.

Angel Dust was in the background, "I'm a bad person!" He yelled.

"'Oh, sh*t' indeed! It looks like the one who just joined the battle is none other than porn actor, Angel Dust!" She turns to Charlie as she shakes her fist.

"What a juicy coincidence! You must feel really stupid, right now." Killjoy and Trench proceed to laugh at Charlie.

Killjoy and Trench do Jazz hands, "Ratings!" They laughed.

"Don't look at this!" Charlie stares at the live feed in distress and attempts to block it from the audience's view.

"Well, it sure looks like your little project is dead on arrival..." Katie looms over Charlie, "Tell us, how does it feel to be a total failure?" Katie smiled evilly. Everyone in the room starts bursting into laughter.

Charlie tries to think of a comeback, "Yeah, well..." She looks around, "How does it feel that I got your pen, huh?!" She grabs Killjoy's ballpen, "...B*tch!" Charlie smiled.

Everybody instantly stops laughing while Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench give her the death stare.

Charlie laughs nervously, "Ehehe..." She puts pen back down, "Oops..." She forced a worried smile.

Tom Trench runs off set. Killjoy's demonic form reveals itself as she looms over Charlie from the shadows.

Yn enters the studio, she stands in the shadows the only thing visible of her are her fc glowing eyes. Purplish red smoke transitions into Angel Dust and Cherri Bomb fighting egg bois.

-Meanwhile at Turf War-

"Heyyy, thanks for the back up, Angie!" Cherri smiled brightly.

"Hahaha!" Angel Dust laughed. Cherri Bomb fires a rocket launcher.

"You kiddin'? This is the best action I've seen in ages!" Angel Dust puts hands behind his head.

Cherri Bomb launching another cherry bomb, "Where've you been, anyway? I thought you up and died or some sh*t..." Cherri questioned.

Angel Dust lighting a bomb and handing it to her, "Oh, I wish! I've been staying at this crappy hotel on the other side of town. Some broads are lettin' me stay rent free if I play nice." Angel Dust grumbled.

They both cover their heads as the explosion sets off behind them, then grin at each other as they jump into the field.

Angel Dust continues to shoot down Egg Bois with what seems to be a drum mag M1928 Thompson, "Y'know, no fights, no pranks, no 'problematic language'... Her words, not mine.." He steps on a broken tile, launching an Egg Boi airborne and shoots him from behind as he sighs again, "These crazy b*tches are no fun! I've been clean for two weeks! I guess in't not all bad, I got to try and have fun with Yn~" Angel Dust smirked.

"Ho-ly sh*t! Really?! Yn! You got a thing for her?!" Cherri Bomb stares at him in disbelief.

"Yeah! And I've been... well, sorta clean." Angel Dust looks at the leftover smudge on his finger.

He destroys an incoming Egg Boi, "Just clean as you can get from a sh*tload of Bolivian marching powder!" Angel Dust gets chained and thrown aside by Sir Pentious, "Ohh. Harder, daddy!" He raises left eyebrow.

Sir Pentious, taking it seriously as he gasps,

"Son?!" He exclaims.

Angel lowers eyebrow as Cherri kicks Sir Pentious to the side.

Sir Pentious hood flares open, "Ger! You whores have no classss! In war, The side remembered is the side with the most ssstyle!" He adjusts his tie.

"Or the side that ain't dead!" Cherri decapitates an Egg Boi.

Angel Dust stands up and removes the chains restricting him, "Speakin' a style, is your hat like, alive or something?" Angel questioned as his phone started to ring.

'Ah Shit..' Angel grumbled.

"Oh! Well, that's none of your GOD DAMN BUSSSSINESS! Now, is it?" Sir Pentious yelled.

"Hah, would that make your hat the top and you the bottom?" Angel Dust smirked. A sign that says "Loser" can be seen in the background pointing at Sir Pentious as an Egg Boi acknowledges the roast.

Egg Boi cups his hands, "Oooooh!" They gets pebble thrown at him by Sir Pentious.

Sir Pentious seemed to be enraged, "I'm going to blow you to bitssss!" He hissed. Angel Dust eyes him up and down, trying to get his phone ringer down, "Hm, kinky!" He smirked.

"Oh, not like that!" Sir Pentious' hood flares open as a sign that says 'Pussy' can be seen pointing at him in the background, "Pervert!" He knocks over an Egg Boi.

Angel notices an egg boi with a tentacle launcher which causes him to push Cherri to the side out of fear. As Angel gets tangled up in all the tentacles. Cherri catches Angel's phone as she sees the username, 'Princess as she picks it up.

"Hello?" Cherri smiled.

<Cherri? It's Yn. is Angel there?> Cherri looked at Angel Dust and sighed, "Yeah just. give us a minute.. Kay, Sweet Cheeks?" Cherri smiled, she put hold on Yn, "So, think you're gonna get in a lotta trouble for this?" Cherri asked, handing the phone to Angel Dust.

"Eh." Angel Dust retracts his third set of arms, "What's one little brawl gonna cause?" He smiled as he got on the phone and heard a pure sweet voice of anger.

-Meanwhile at 666 News-

Charlie and Killjoy can be seen trying to duking it out on each other like it's some sort of WWE match while a fire alarm goes off in the background with Trench entering the scene, covered in fames

"WHY WON'T ANYONE HELP ME?!" Tom yelled.

-View switch-

"Glad you haven't changed!" Cherri slugs him on the arm, "You know you're my favorite guy to party with!" Cherri smiled brightly.

"You know it, sugar t*ts!" Angel Dust puts his phone away.

Cherri Bomb takes out one last bomb, "You ready to finish this?" she smirked.

Angel Dust takes out a Thompson gun, "Born ready, baby!" He smiled. Angel and Cherri pounce onto Sir Pentious and his army as they prepare to clash, Charlie and Killjoy are still at each other's throats screaming, Trench is still on fire, screaming in agony.

Suddenly chains made out of fire ties everyone but Vaggie and Charlie, everyone looks around confused while some people struggle to get free.

"I think that's enough for now." Everyone but Vaggie and Charlie freeze, they turn and see Yn walking out of the shadows.

"Yn, you're here!" Charlie smiles and jumps into Yn's arms.

"Sorry I took so long, I had trouble escaping my other partners..." Charlie chuckles a little but inside she's a little pissed.

"I think we should get out of here, don't you think so Hun?" Vaggie walks over to Yn and pats her back.

"Yeah..." Yn who carries Charlie walks out of the building with Vaggie. Yn look back one more time sending death glare to Killjoy who shivers in fear, just as the girls walk out of the room. The fire chains vanish but not before giving everyone left in the room some nasty burns.

The royal family limousine can be seen driving back to the hotel. Charlie can be seen lying on Yn's lap, her face facing her thighs her jacket is ruined after Katie Killjoy attacked her, while Vaggie sits next to her and Yn, glaring furiously at Angel Dust.

Charlie sighs and Vaggie's eye twitches and Yn just blankly stares at Angel Dust who can be seen amusing himself by playing with the car window roller repeatedly. Vaggie scrunches up her face which Angel Dust takes notice of "...What?" Angel Dust asks.

"'What?', 'WHAT?!..... What were you DOING?!" Vaggie almost rips off her hair.

Angel Dust sighs, "I owed my girl buddy a solid! Isn't that a 'redeeming quality?" He does air quotes, "Helping friends with stuff?" Angel Dust rolls his eyes as he watches his sister play on her phone.

"Not with turf wars that result in territorial genocide!" Vaggie exclaimed.

"Eh, you win some, you lose a few hundred. Ehahahahahah!" Angel Dust inhales, "It wasn't that bad, anyway..." He proceeds to play with the button of the car window roller. Vaggie throws a folded pocket knife at the window roller

"Aw, come on! I had to! My credibility was on the line! I mean, what kind of reputation would I have if people found out I was tryna go clean? It just throws out my entire persona!" He suggestively pushes up chest floof while looking at Yn, Vaggie's eye twitches even more when she sees that.

"Your credibility? What about the hotel's?!" Vaggie looked annoyed, She gestures at a defeated Charlie, "Your little stunt made us look like a fucking joke!" Vaggie combusts.

Angel Dust scoffs, "No, no, no, babe. Jokes are funny! I made you look... uh, sad!" The camera pans to Charlie, "And pathetic! Like an orphan... with no arms... or legs... Oh! With progeria!" Yn looked at Angel Dust annoyed as the camera focused back on him. "Great! Now I'm bummed thinkin' about it!" He starts looking around the limousine.

"This thing have any liquor?" Angel Dust asked as Yn started to get slowly hyper.

"Can you please just try to take this seriously?! Also don't mention liquor around Yn?!" Vaggie grumbled as Angel Dust flicks off a dust bunny.

"Fine, I'lI try Just don't get your taco in a twist, baby!" He snaps finger at her while smiling.

"Was that you trying to be sexist or racist?" Yn questioned.

Angel Dust groans, "Whatever pisses her off more. Is there seriously no liquor in here?!" Angel Dust looked around as Yn got more excited.

Vaggie returns to sit next to Yn as she crosses her arms, "I'm gonna kill 'im." Vaggie growls.

"Calm down." Yn pats the top of Vaggie's head.

"Too late, toots. Wait! Would that make me double dead? Hah, and where exactly do I go? To Double Hell? Hahahahahahahaha! Sorry, you're stuck with me, b*tch. Get used to it" He folds his arms confidently.

Vaggie looks at him angrily, as she grits her teeth, "¡Con una mierda, malparido hijo de..!' Vaggie yelled in spanish. (For f**k's sake, you bastard son of..)

"Listen, who cares if some jack-offs got hurt? Most of 'em are ugly freaks. Look around!" Angel Dust look out the limousine window, smirking, "You got a bunch a f**kin' Harlequin babies down here!" Angel Dust stated as he was laughing.

"You're one to talk.." Vaggie smiles smugly.

"Hey!" Angel Dust motions to his body, "This body is flawless! Everyone wants to summa' me..." Angel Dust pushes up chest fluff and takes out a letter, "and we've got the creepy fan letters to prove it!" Angel Dust smirked.

Takes letter from in between his chest floof and reveals it to Vaggie that features a small picture of a dirty naked old man, who ironically has a 'No Angel Dust tattoo, smothering his mouth on an Angel Dust body pillow and a message at the bottom saying 'Show me your feet!! - Bryrin, # 1 Fan /Critic'.

"Freaks..." Yn mutters under her breath.

"Grrr..." Vaggie growls.

"That was really uncool, y'know, Angel..." Charlie sits up while Yn takes off her jacket, Charlie hands Yn some grape juice as she smiled widely and drank the whole bottle, feeling less angry.

"...Uncool?! After that train-wreck, there is no way anyone is gonna wanna stay at the hotel!" Vaggie looks toward Angel Dust, "All thanks to..." Vaggie points at him, Angel Dust, "...you and your selfish bullshit!" She yelled.

"Does that mean I don't have a free room anymore?" Angel Dust asked. Vaggie motions 'What do you think? "Ah, well shucks."

Angel Dust snaps finger, "...Guess I'll stay with Yn." Angel Dust poses for her, "and have some fun time~?.."

"What do you think?" Angel Dust groans, "oh well at least you won't ever leave me out to dry!" He smirked.

"Hey, come on. We don't know if things are over yet!" Charlie said.

"Yeah, and again try to relax, Vaggie. It'll be okay!" Yn added as she puts a hand on Vaggie's left shoulder while petting Charlie's hair. Vaggie and Charlie smiles at Yn.

Arrived at the Happy Hotel-

The limousine arrives at the hotel as the hotel door opens, revealing a very old and dirty establishment.

"Ugh! Yn, could you be a dear and help me with my shoulders?" Vaggie throws herself on the couch, facing the wall.

"Sure." Vaggie lies down on the couch and Yn starts to give her a massage. Angel Dust rummages through the fridge leaning by the wall and grabbing a box of Popsicles.

"Eh, it's probably a good idea to get some actual food in this place. Y'know, to feed all the wayward souls you got in here! Ahahaha! Ahaha..! ch... ah.." He closes the fridge door as he tries to comfort Charlie but decides to back off.

Charlie exits the hotel and tries to contact her mother. Charlie sighs, "Hey, mom. I know I keep calling and you must be busy... Really busy... But, um, the interview didn't go well..."

She shrinks to her knees, "and... I don't know if I'm ever going to make a difference.." Charlie starts tearing up as she wipes it off her face.

"I don't know what I'm doing: I could really use some advice, mom. I... I think dad was right about me... Ahah, oof, eh, anyway..." She wipes her face once more.

"I'll stop talking before this gets long. Love you, bye..." Charlie walks back in and leans by the door in defeat as a sudden knock can be heard from the other side of the door, surprising Charlie. She contemplates on whether or not to open the door but decides to open it anyway. The mysterious figure watching her performance from before can be seen standing before her.

"Hel..." He gets door slammed in front of him. Charlie looks to the side for a brief moment before opening the door again

"lo!" Charlie slams door in front of her face once more before making her way to Vaggie and Yn who is still massaging Vaggie.

"Hey, Yn? Vaggie?" Charlie gulped.

"Whaaaat~?" Vaggie groan annoyed.

"Something wrong?" Yn looks at Charlie.

"The Radio Demon is at the door!" Charlie looked down nervously.

"What?!" Vaggie quickly sits up and Yn looks horrified.

"Uh... who?" Angel Dust takes out the popsicle from her mouth.

"What should I do?!" Charlie asked.

"Uh, well- Don't let him in!" Vaggie advised.

"I'm f**ked! I'm so f**ked! Whatever you do, don't let him in!" Yn suddenly vanishes from the spot as Charlie decides to disregard Yn and Vaggie's advice once more and opens the door for Alastor.

"May I speak now?" Charlie seemed confused.

"You may.." Alastor reached his hand out.

"Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you, sweetheart!" He pulls Charlie towards him.

"Quite a pleasure!" He lets himself in, "Excuse my sudden visit, but I saw your fiasco on a picture show, and I just couldn't resist! What a performance! Why, I haven't been that entertained since the stock market crash of 1929! Hahahahaha.." Alastor plays with his mic staff, "..sooo many orphans..." He chuckled.

Vaggie holds a harpoon towards his chest, "Stop right there, cabrón hijo de perra (bastard son of a b*tch!) I know your game and I'm not gonna let you hurt anyone here, you pompous cheesy talk show sh*tlord!" Vaggie warned as Angel's head pops in, unamused.

Alastor uses finger to move the harpoon away, "Dear, if I wanted to hurt anyone here.." He turns into his full demon form, "I would've done so.." Alastor smirked.

The screen distorts as Charlie and Vaggie stare at him in fear.

Alastor snaps back to reality, "No! I'm here because I want to help!" Alastor smiled.

"Say what, now?" Charlie questioned. Alastor repeats himself, "Help! Hahaha, hello? Is this thing on?" He taps on his mic, "Testing, testing!" He smile.

Alastor's Mic opens its one eye, "Well, I heard you loud and clear!" It blinked.

"Um, you want to help? With..?" Charlie questioned slowly.

Alastor teleports behind the two with his shadow, "This ridiculous thing you're trying to do! This hotel! I want to help you run it.." Alastor smirked.

"Buuut... Why?' Charlie asked, suspicious.

"Hahaha, why does anyone do anything? Sheer, absolute boredom! I've lacked inspiration for decades. My work became mundane, lacking focus..." He shoves Vaggie offscreen, "aimless! I've come to crave a new form of entertainment! Hahaha!" He laughed. Alastor suddenly stops and sniffs the air, his smile widens even more causing Vaggie and Charlie to feel unnerved.

"Excuse me." He walks over to a closer and when he opens it Yn is seen hiding inside.

"Oh sh*t..." Yn cursed.

"Hello Darling~" Alastor grabs Yn's hand, twirl and dips her while his other hand holding her waist keeping her from falling, he smashes his lips onto Yn's lips. Yn's eyes widen along with Vaggie, Charlie and Angel Dust's. Vaggie starts to shake.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" she snatches Yn away from Alastor and holds her spear towards Alastor again.

"That's not fair!" Angel Dust said pissed.

"I'm expressing my love towards her." Alastor smiled pleased and satisfied to see his Darling.

"You two know each other?!" Charlie asked surprised. Yn clears her throat while she's blushing a little.

"Yeah... In the early few weeks when I arrived at Hell, I met Alastor at a tea party, he tried to make deals with me since I was a newcomer and it didn't go like he planned..." Yn explained.

"What do you mean?" Charlie and Vaggie confused about what she mean.

"We fought and she clearly won!" Alastor replied spinning his cane.

"And ever since that day, he's been like... this." Yn points at Alastor who is holding Yn from behind. Charlie and Vaggie looks at Yn and Alastor shocked.

"And that's one of the reasons why I'm an Overlord..... and the other reason is my relationship with the... seven sins..." Alastor is the only one that hears that and his smile drops a little before it returns back to normal. Charlie looks at Yn with a raised eye brow before looking back at Alastor.

"Does getting into a fistfight with a reporter count as entertainment..?" Charlie asked.

"Hahaha! It's the purest kind, my dear: Reality! True passion! After all, the world is a stage and the stage is a world of entertainment." Alastor smiled.

"So, does this mean you think it's possible to rehabilitate a demon?" Charlie questioned.

"Hahahahaha!" Alastor shakes hands in front of her, "Of course not! That's wacky nonsense!" He shakes head back and forth, "Redemption, oh the non-existent humanity! No, no, no, no. I don't think there's anything left that could save such loathsome sinners!" He looks over to Vaggie who is offended and Angel who just shrugs.

"The chance given was the life they lived before, the punishment is this!" He puts his arms out, gesturing the entirety of Hell, "There is no undoing what is done!" He smirked.

"So, then. Why do you wanna help me if you don't believe in my cause?" Charlie asked.

"Consider it an investment in ongoing entertainment for myself!" Alastor said.

"It's always entertainment with you." Yn replied. Alastor winks at Yn and then he pulls Charlie close to him and twirls her, "I want to watch the scum of the world struggle to climb up the hill of betterment only to repeatedly trip and tumble down to the fiery pit of failure!" He forced a smile.

Charlie removes Alastor's hand from her back, "Riiiight..." Charlie sighs.

"Yes, indeedy!" He grabs Yn and Charlie by the waist and drags them offscreen, "I see big things coming your way and who better to help you than I?" He trails off.

"Uh, so... uh, what's the deal with Smiles over there?" Angel Dust asked.

"Wait, you've never heard of her before? You've been here longer than me!" Vaggie rolled her eyes, Angel Dust shrugs cluelessly.

"The Radio Demon. One of the most powerful beings Hell has ever seen?" Vaggie questioned.

Angel Dust shrugs a second time, "Eh, not big on politics..." Angel Dust answered.

"Ugh!" Vaggie leans in on Angel Dust as she begins her story, "Decades ago, Alastor manifested in Hell..." Vaggie started.

"...seemingly overnight." Scene changes to a visual presentation of Vaggie's story regarding Alastor.

"He began to topple Overlords who have been dominant for centuries. That kind of raw power had never been harnessed by a mortal soul before. Then, he broadcast his carnage all throughout Hell just so everyone could witness his ability. Sinners started calling him "The Radio Demon" (as lazy as that is). Many have speculated what unimaginable force enabled him to rival our world's most ancient and destructive evils. But one thing's for sure. He's an unpredictable source of danger, a wicked spirit of mystery, and a violent monster of chaos, the likes of which we can't rish getting involved with unless we want to end up erased!" Vaggie finished her story with a sigh.

"Ya done?" Angel Dust Laughs dryly, "He looks like a strawberry pimp..." He stated.

"Well, I don't trust him!" Vaggie crossed her

arms."

"To be fair, do you trust any man? Any men? Men?" Angel Dust asked, Vaggie walks over to Charlie and grabs her by her shoulder.

"Charlie, listen to me. You can't believe this creep! He isn't just a happy face! He's a deal-maker! Pure evil! He can't be redeemed! ..And is most likely looking for a way to destroy everything we're trying to do! We already have Yn who is a powerful Overlord, we don't need him!" Vaggie stated.

"I know we have Yn, Vaggie. Look, I know Alastor is bad, and I know he probably doesn't wanna change, but the whole point of this is to give people a chance!" Alastor inspects a portrait of the royal family.

"To have faith things will be better! How can I turn someone away? I can't. It goes against everything I'm trying to do. Everything I believe in." She puts hands on Vaggie's shoulders.

"Just... trust me. I can take care of myself, plus like you said, we have Yn!" Charlie smiles.

"Charlie, whatever you do, do not make a deal with him!" Vaggie rolled her eyes, Alastor makes a gesture with her hand, seemingly focusing on Vaggie.

"Don't worry, I picked up one thing from my dad!" Charlie imitating her dad's voice, "...You don't take sh*t from other demons!" She walks off to where Alastor is causing Vaggie to groan, Yn walks over to her and places her hand on her shoulder.

"Don't worry Vaggie, Alastor won't do anything as longs as I'm here." Vaggie smiles and leans her head agains Yn.

"Okay, so, Al. You're sketchy as f**k and you clearly see what I'm trying to do here as a joke." She sighs. As Charlie turns away, glowing red symbols start to appear beside Alastor which quickly disappear after Charlie turns back to Alastor.

"But, I don't. I think everyone deserves a chance to prove they can be better. So, I'm taking your offer to help. On the condition that there be no..." Charlie makes gestures with hands, "...tricks or voodoo strings attached." Charlie crossed her arms.

"So, it's a deal, then?" As Alastor rolls his eyes at that last statement. He twirls his mic staff and presents his hand for a handshake as green energy bursts throughout the hotel.

Charlie refused his handshake, "Nope! No shaking! No deals! I... hmm... As princess of Hell and heir to the throne, I, uh, hereby order that you help with this hotel. For as long as you desire." Charlie smiled.

A howling wolf can be heard in the background as Charlie looks over to Yn and Vaggie for approval, Vaggie looks away while Yn gives her a thumbs up.

"Sound fair?" Charlie asked.

Alastor rubs his chin, "Hmm..." He retracts his mic staff, "Fair enough!" He smiled.

"Cool beans." Charlie sighs in relief.

"Hmm hm hmm hmm.." He continues to hum while looking around as He stops in front of Vaggie, "Smile, my dear!" He tickles the underside of Vaggie's chin who shakes in anger and glares at him, "You know you're never fully dressed without one!" He walks away as he continues humming.

"So where is your hotel staff?" Alastor questioned.

"Uh, well-" Charlie looks at Yn and Vaggie who's staring at Alice dead in the eyes.

"Though my dear Yn is good... you're going to need more than that." He walks towards Angel Dust.

"And what can you do, my effeminate fellow?" He asked.

"I can suck your d*ck!" Angel Dust answered.

Mic feedback can be heard in the background as Alastor tries to process what he was just offered.

"HAH! No..." Alastor said with a straight smile.

Angel Dust scoffs, "Your loss." He looked away.

"Well, this just won't do!" She takes out her mic staff, "I suppose I can cash in a few favors to liven things up." At the snap of her finger, a new fireplace has replaced the hotel's worn down one as she approaches it and picks up the mysterious figure covered in soot, which then opens its eye and stares at the trio behind her. Niffty poofs off the soot from her body.

"This little darling is Niffty!" Niffty drops to the floor, unaffected, "Hi, I'm Niffty! It's nice to meet you! It's been a while since I've made new friends!" She eyes the four, "Why're you all women?" Niffty lifts Charlie with no effort causing Vaggie to point her spear at her, "Are there any men here?!" She puts Charlie down, "I'm sorry, that's rude." She looks around the hotel when she sees Yn. Niffty's eye widens and her smile widens.

"Crimson Queen!" She bolts towards Yn and smashes into her sending them both flying into a wall. Everyone else looks at them shocked.

"Hey!" Vaggie and Charlie rush to Yn and rips Niffty who is clinging onto Yn off of her. Alastor helps Yn stand up as Yn dusts her clothes.

"Well isn't she full of energy." Yn chuckles at Niffty behavior.

"Forgive me my dear, Niffty is a big fan of yours since she's heard stories of you from me." Alastor said.

"No worries." Yn replied.

"Oooh, man! This place is filthy! It really needs a lady's touch!" Niffty grabs a spider and crushes it, "Which is weird because you're all ladies, no offense." She stares offscreen as she takes out a feather duster, "Oh, my gosh! This is awful!" She quickly cleans throughout the hotel, "Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope!" She spots a cockroach and stabs it with a sewing pin, "Nope!" She gags.

The four stare at Niffty as a voice coming from an unknown cat demon can be heard nearby.

Husk lays his cards down the table, "Hah! Read 'em and weep, boys! Full Ho..." The demonic illusions and voices distort the surroundings temporarily, "..tel? What the fuck is this?" He looks around and spots Alastor, eliciting an angry purr as he points at him, "You!" He growls.

"Ah, Husker, my good friend! Glad you could make it!" Alastor smiled brightly.

"Don't you 'Husker' me, you son of a bitch! I was about to win the whole damn pot!" Husk grumbled and the jackpot disappeared into nothingness.

"Good to see you too!" Alastor smirked. Husk facepalms angrily, "What the hell do you want with me this time..?" Husk asked.

"My friend, I am doing some charity work so I took it upon myself to volunteer your services! I hope that's okay!" Alastor leaned on something, a wall.

"Are you shittin' me?!" Husk questioned.

"Hmm... No, I don't think so!" Alastor smirked, leaning on Husk.

Husk shoves Alastor off, "You thought it'd be some kind of big fucking riot just to pull me out of nowhere?!" The camera pans to Alastor dusting himself off, "You think I'm some kind of fucking clown?!" Husk crossed his arms.

Alastor grins as if he's about to laugh, "Maybe!" He laughed.

"I ain't doing no fucking charity job." Husk tried to walk off.

Alastor teleports behind him through his shadow, "Well, I figured you would be the perfect face to man the front desk of this fine establishment!" He gestures towards the bar he made out of his magic, "With your charming smile.." Alastor pulls Husks's lips into a forced smile, "...and welcoming energy, this job was made for you! Don't worry my friend..." He walks over to the bar, revealing the soles of his shoes to have deer prints, "I can make this more welcoming! If you wish...." Alastor makes a bottle of 'Cheap Booze' appear out of nowhere, which grabs two demon's attention.

"Oh Hell Yes!" Angel Dust and Yn smiled.

"Oh Fuck No..." Vaggie groaned.

"Uh.. We don't like to have...booze here.."Charlie seemed worried.

Husk stares at the booze for a second, "What? You think you can buy me with a wink." He winks sarcastically, "and some cheap booze?!" Husk grabs the booze and looks at it, "...Well, you can!" Almost downs the booze until Yn steals it.

"Hey, hey! Hey, hey, hey! No! No bar, no alcohol!" She snatched the booze and poured it out, "This is supposed to be a place that discourages sin! Not some kind of mouth..brothel.. man cave!" Vaggie sighed.

Angel Dust launches himself at Vaggie from somewhere off screen, "SHUT UP! SHUT! UP! We.." He points to the bar with all his fingers, "are keeping this!" He gestured to Husk.

Angel Dust starts flirting with Husk, "Hey.." He flirted.

"Go f**k yourself..." Husk rolled his eyes. Angel Dust holds Husk's face, "Only if you watch me!" He smirked.

Angel Dust was shove out of the way by Yn.

"You like booze?!" Yn smiled widely.

"Oh Hell Yeah I do..." Husk smirked, looking Yn up and down, "You look pretty tonight..." He flirted.

"Oh, my gosh! Welcome to The Happy Hotel! You are going to love it here!" Charlie swizzle next to Yn tries to go for a handshake.

Husk reaches for his booze, "I lost the ability to love years ago.." He continues to down his booze as Yn seemed excited. Husk felt his heart beat a bit, 'Sh*t...' He handed Yn the booze as Yn drank some.

"So, whaddaya think?" Alastor smirked. "This is amazing!" Charlie rubs her cheeks excitedly.

Vaggie with crossed arms, "It's... okay..." She tried to get the booze away from Yn but she was running away, with Husk cheering for his new drunky buddy.

"I think it's quite nice." Yn added finishing her drink as she walk next to Charlie.

Alastor reels the three towards him, "Hahaha! This is going to be very entertaining!" He smiled.

He then lets go of Vaggie and summons a fireball, launching it to the hotel ceiling just so he could distract Charlie and Yn fast enough for him to shove Vaggie offscreen. He dresses himself in a tux and matching top hat. Just for fun, dresses Yn and Charlie in beautiful dresses as he puts Angel Dust in whatever he likes and finally Husk and Niffty in their respective outfits.

"~You have a dream!~" He twirls Yn and Charlie while she dresses them up

"~You wish to tell!~" She turns to Vaggie who's now on the floor glaring at Alastor with her face completely red.

"~And it's just laughable.~" He turns back to Yn and tosses him mid-air.

"~But, hey, kid, what the hell?~" The background behind Yn changes to neon colored lights featuring two apples and a skull. Alastor catches Yn by the hand as they both tap dance together.

"~'Cause you're one-of-a-kind! A charming demon belle!~" The two slide down the railing of the stairs.

"~Now, let's give these burning fools a place to dwell!~" She dresses up the rest of the hotel staff.

"~Take it, boys!~" Shadow demons appear from the floorboards and begin playing their instruments as Vaggie tries to talk to Charlie who is having too much fun. Alastor pulls her in with him and the others as Alastor's shadow demons surround them.

"Boo!" The shadow demons are scary.

"~Haha! Inside of every demon is a lost cause!~" Alastor puts a fedora on Angel's head as he snaps his fingers back at Alastor.

"~But we'll dress'em up for nore, with just a smile!~" Alastor summons a scarf and a hat on Vaggie and then she slaps Vaggie's ass causing her to grit her teeth and throw her hat onto the floor. Yn chuckles dryly causing Vaggie to look at him clearly annoyed.

Shadow Demons: "~With a smile!~"

"~And we'll chlorinate this cesspool with some old redemption flair!~" Alastor kicks off the skull which Niffty rushes in and cleans off.

"~And show these simpletons some proper class and style!~" Alastor summons a shadow clone of himself.

Shadow Demons: "~Class and style!~" Alastor snaps away his shadow.

"~Oh! Here below the ground,~" Alastor pinches Yn and Charlie's cheeks, "~I'm sure your plan is sound!~" Alastor holds hands with Charlie as they both twirl.

"~They'll spend a little time down at this Hazbin Ho...~" The hotel door explodes, knocking Niffty offscreen as Yn, Charlie, Alastor, Angel Dust, and Vaggie look outside. Sir Pentious' warship has made an appearance outside the hotel.

"Hah! Well, well, well. Look who it is harboring the striped freak! We meet yet again, Alastor!" Sir Pentious hissed, Yn looks at him confused.

"Someone you know, Alastor?" Yn question.

"I'm not quite sure. Do I know you?" Alastor asked.

Sir Pentious ego deflates, "Oh, yes you do!"

His hood flares open, "And this time, I have the element of.." He pulls a lever, "SURPRISE! Ahaha! I'm so evil!" He laughed.

With a snap of a finger, an otherworldly dimensional portal opens with tentacles and shadow demons emerging from it, destroying Sir Pentious' ship while he is inside. Alastor can then be seen finishing it off as he clenches his fist with a few drops of blood dripping off his hand. Alastor is then shown grinning menacingly in satisfaction for a moment as everyone else but Yn looks at him in shock and horror.

Alastor breaks the tension, "...Well, I'm starved! Who wants some Jambalaya? My mother once showed me a wonderful recipe for Jambalaya. In fact, it nearly killed her! Hahaha!" Charlie smiles at Vaggie in place. Vaggie smile at her but when she turns around Vaggie's smile drops, "You could say the kick was right out of Hell! Ohoho, I'm on a roll! Yes, sir! This is the start of some real changes down here! Darling, do you want some Jambalaya! I'll even give ya' booze! The game is set! Now..." He smirked as he walked off with Yn. Alastor uses her magic to change the sign atop the hotel from "Happy Hotel" to "Hazbin Hotel", "Stay tuned. Hahaha..."

Previous Page: Ch. Pilot: Welcome to Hell

Next Chapter: Ch. 2: Immediate Murder Professionals

Beginning: Front Cover

18 notes · View notes

clover1412 · 11 days ago

Text

conversations in secret

now with a chapter 2 :)

Chapter 1: to be close to her is to be vulnerable

~ ♡ ~

‘Tough case, I hear.’

He sighed as he took a seat opposite the woman, and she continued to flip through the file. He had a long week, with Tsujimura constantly on his back about reports and endless case requests.

They had a serial murder case at a Tokyo restaurant: guests had been dying mysteriously. Initial reports couldn’t find traces of any poison in any of the dishes, and combined with the fact that the guests had all previous health problems, it had been ruled out as natural causes and coincidence. However, the latest victim had ties to the government, and that meant they were called in. It turns out that the maitre d’ had been poisoning guests that looked down at him; years of anger had led him to take such drastic measures. Of course he had ended up dead at the end of it all, his prize swordfish being his undoing.

‘Yeah, well,’ he took out his kiseru and lit it, ‘we got him in the end, so what difference does it make?’

After the whole Kyogoku ordeal, he had promised to visit occasionally. To keep her updated on her daughter’s situation. She seemed to look forward to their meetings; she obviously couldn’t have too many visitors. Considering she wasn’t technically alive, and even though Ayatsuji pretended it annoyed him, she knew better.

‘I heard she threatened to quit.’

‘She does that from time to time,’ he leant back, blowing smoke, regarding the pattern on the ceiling. ‘She never has though.’

Tsujimura has her phases; he’s not sure what brings on these mood swings, but they are quite entertaining. She had accidentally fallen into the fish tank attempting to retrieve a possible piece of evidence, blaming him for not holding her. He had warned her that he had only been contracted to solve mysteries, not entertain wild goose chases. He had also apparently deliberately kept her out of his plans, leading her to once again be thrown at a wall. So still damp and in pain, she told him that if he kept up with this, she would quit.

‘I’m sure you would regret it if she actually did quit,’ she chuckled at his recollection of events. She had already read both of their reports, and Tsujimura’s one had clearly been written with bitterness, her writing looking extra scratchy when it came to his name.

‘Yes,’ he took another long drag from the pipe. ‘No one else in her department is quite so easy to control.’

She shook her head, disappointed but not surprised. She knew her daughter’s character, her stubbornness, her strengths, and her weaknesses. She could be partnered up with worse people; she knows the department is full of them.

‘And?’

He shot her a confused look, ‘And?’

‘How much longer are you going to deny it?’ She’d read about the Kyogoku incident in detail. Details that her daughter was never made aware of, like how he had made the choice to let Kyogoku go in order to save her life—of course that was before he knew the whole truth. Or how initially he had chosen her life over his. It was exasperating to watch him put on this performance of not caring.

‘Deny what?’

She shut the folder and sighed. She forgot how difficult he could be. With that sharp tongue of his, ‘Aren’t you tired of this?’

‘Again, I’m not sure what you’re talking about,’ he sat up, making eye contact with her. ‘Mizuki Tsujimura-dono.’

She shook her head, the lengths he would go just to avoid talking about things he didn’t want to. She could see why her daughter struggled to take charge of him; she was much too insecure in her own strength. And perhaps unaware of just how much power she had.

‘After everything you’ve done for her, are you still going to deny what she means to you?’

‘Ah,’ he went quiet for a second, choosing to look away. ‘You seem to forget that your daughter isn’t like us.’

‘Meaning?’

‘In this business you have to keep everyone an arm’s length away,’ more cryptic nonsense. He went back to leaning, choosing to smoke instead of elaborating. He just couldn’t admit it, could he? Even though they both knew what he was thinking. However, what was clear was that he had put a lot of thought into this; how anyone could forget he was human was beyond her.

‘I fear you might be past that now.’

His response was almost immediate and almost too quiet for her to hear: ‘She doesn’t know that.’

‘You underestimate her, Ayatsuji-kun; she’s grown so much,’ she smiled fondly, recalling all the reports she’s read about her daughter over the years.

‘I don’t disagree,’ he remembered the first time he had seen her. It had been soon after she received the news of her mother’s death. She had just started at the military academy, and Ango was offering her a job after she graduated, courtesy of her new ability. To everyone’s shock she had requested to be placed near him, usually people requested the opposite. ‘Tsujimura-kun has changed considerably, but I—I don’t know.’

'Don’t know what?’

‘I don’t see a future where it will end well.’ Their lives were in constant danger. His is in the hands of the government; what happens when they decide they don’t need him anymore? Tsujimura didn’t take the last kill on sight order well. Well, she didn’t listen at all, choosing to risk her life instead. Would she do that again? More importantly, he didn’t want her to, nor did he want to hear her cry like that again.

‘You forget Ayatsuji-kun, that even you cannot predict the future.’

‘Well forgive me for being a realist,’ he stood up to leave, dusting his clothing and tucking in the chair before turning away.

‘Leaving so soon?’ Of course he would leave like nothing important had been said.

‘She’s going to chew my ear off about being late to some meeting or other,’ he gestured noncommittally; at least this time he was attempting to lie.

‘Think about it, Ayatsuji-kun,’ she called out to him as he walked away.

He didn’t bother turning back to answer, just waved as he waited for them to open the doors again.

He’d thought about it enough.

~ ♡ ~

Chapter 2: your feelings amongst the rubble

~ ♡ ~

Tsujimura dusted off the debris on her blazer, struggling to get up off the floor.

‘Tsujimura-kun!’ She heard her name being called from somewhere nearby. She tried to reply, but all she could do was cough.

The last thing she remembered was Ayatsuji-sensei identifying the killer in their latest case. Then the guy tried to use her as leverage to escape. Unfortunately for him, she tackled him to the ground, and he began crying quite pathetically. Sensei revealed that his ability would soon kill the man, and he screamed something along the lines of, ‘It’s not fair!’ Before activating a bomb of some kind, how she hadn’t noticed it was beyond her. It was supposed to destroy the exits to the building, trapping everyone in so that he could kill them all one by one. Due to the frailty of the older structure, the explosion caused cracks to form in the ceiling above where Tsujimura was disarming and handcuffing the man. Ayatsuji yelled out for her to move or she would be crushed.

She looked up, there wasn’t enough time to move. Someone, or something shoved her out of the way just in time, knocking the air out of her lungs as she collided with the wall.

She must’ve been out momentarily, waking up to dust and debris everywhere. Her head was throbbing, and her muscles ached; she must’ve hit her head. Using the wall to get up, she tried to make out where everyone was. There were multiple other people in the building as Ayatsuji-sensei pointed out the killer. She saw a hand from under the rubble, the watch on the wrist told her it was the culprit, getting what he deserved.

‘Tsujimura-kun!’ The voice was closer this time, and she was almost sure it was Ayatsuji-sensei calling out her name. She tried to make out where he was, but her vision was blurring, and when she touched her head, she felt blood. Using the wall as a guide, she tried to take a couple of steps towards the voice, though it was useless as she felt her knees buckle.

In the rubble, on her knees, she felt a sense of dread fill her. Was she going to die in this building?

The last thing she remembered before waking up in the hospital was Ayatsuji-sensei crouching next to her, telling her that she would be okay. He seemed to have suffered some slight injuries in his attempt to reach her. He was never going to shut up about that.

~ ♡ ~

‘I see you didn’t make it out of this one unscathed either.’

He shot her a glare as he made his way across the room. He had a bandage on his face and scrapes on his arm and back. He sat down in his usual chair, leaning back slowly so as to not aggravate the healing skin. She watched as he lit his kiseru as usual and relaxed for a bit before continuing.

‘So?’ She was stifling a laugh as she took in his slight wince as he moved around. ‘Shocking to see the supposedly indestructible homicide detective injured.’

‘Why are you surprised? Isn’t it part of the job?’ His eyes were shut, and he was breathing carefully; his ribs must hurt. ‘Injury and pain?’

‘Yes, but it has been a while since you sustained significant injuries in any case, correct?’ If she remembered correctly, even during the waterfall confrontation, he had a few bruises from falling into the net with force, but that was the extent of it.

He nodded, 'It has indeed.'

‘Reigo Island, I believe,’ she chuckled, clearly amused by the memory she was recalling.

Ayatsuji seemed less entertained. ‘That ability of yours has no sympathy.’

‘In my defence, I was acting under orders.’ She had been instructed to kill the ability user when she was assigned there. ‘You held your own against us, even if it was for a short time. You must have been trained well.’

‘You still seem shocked about it,’ he was sitting up straighter now. Facing her as she continued to reminisce.

‘I was informed that despite your powerful ability, you lacked any combat skills. Imagine my shock when you tried to parry Shadowling with a nearby stick.’

‘I do not wish to talk about that time in my life.’

‘Which part? The part when I nearly killed you? Or the time you learnt to fight?’

His face soured when she brought up the fighting. ‘I think you know what I’m referring to.’

‘Fine, you’ve been through enough; I'll leave this conversation for another time.’

‘Bold of you to assume we would ever have that conversation.’ His face remained unchanged and slightly horrified.

She laughed, ‘Yes, yes. I know you have no inclination to discuss your past.’ She’d tried to bring it up before, having read all the files the government had on him. He’d shot her down then too.

‘So? Is that all you wanted to discuss? Seems pretty mundane, even more than usual.’

‘What did you expect? You haven’t done anything of national importance lately.’

‘You haven’t enquired about your daughter once. Isn’t that why you wanted to meet? You could at least ask how Tsujimura-kun is,’ he folded his arms.

She smiled, he had an of way saying he cared, ‘And how is she?’

‘Well.’

It would seem he was being bratty for her earlier intrusion, ‘And is that all?’

‘Her injuries, like mine, were minor; she is fine.’

‘Fine? Was she not put under strict orders to rest because of a concussion?’

‘Miraculously,’ he seemed to be throwing some sort of tantrum, continuing to be petty. ‘She recovered.’

‘Well,’ she laughed, he could be such an annoyance sometimes. She felt it was her karma for not spending enough time with her daughter when she was a child. ‘That’s good.’

They lapsed into silence; he seemed to be out of things to say, or be sassy about.

She spoke first, ‘And how are you?’

‘Like I already said, I’m fine.’

‘No, I mean, you saw her in quite a bad state,’ she studied his expression, and although it remained largely unaffected, there was a flicker of something in his eyes. ‘I imagine that was not easy.’

~ ♡ ~

He was shaking her as she lay limp on the floor. ‘Tsujimura, wake up!’ He had watched her try to walk before collapsing. Running towards her as fast as he could.

Now, he was sitting against the wall, pulling her into his lap so she wouldn't be on the cold ground anymore. She was still breathing, so he felt her pulse; it wasn’t as strong as usual. He wasn’t expecting this to happen when he caught the criminal; the man wasn’t supposed to have bombs. He tucked the hair out of her face, taking in her pale countenance. He should’ve noticed the explosives in the building. Why didn’t he?

How was he supposed to get her out of here when the exits were blocked? She desperately needed some medical attention to check the head injury wasn’t serious.

Thankfully, he knew Tsujimura and trusted she had contacted the division already, as was protocol whenever they’re sent on cases. They were the ones who clean up the messes left by his ability and make sure the others on the scene are questioned about the situation. They were already on the way, but they needed extra support.

He pulled out Tsujimura’s phone and tried to turn it on, but the crack on the screen was telling. He threw it aside and pulled out his own, contacting Ango, ‘Sakaguchi-kun, we need ambulances and the fire department now.’

‘Sensei?’ He motioned for Aoki and Murakoso. ‘What happened?’

‘There was a bomb; the exits have been destroyed. I don’t know how many people are hurt, and Tsujimura-kun is unconscious.’

‘Understood.’

He ran his hand through his hair; this was all his fault, and all he could do now was wait. He looked back down at the woman in his lap; she seemed so cold. Taking off his cape, he wrapped it around her. ‘And you called it pompous; who’s benefiting from it now?’

~ ♡ ~

‘Like I said, she recovered.’

‘But somehow that’s not what I asked,’ she had struck some sort of nerve, but what didn’t annoy him? Any mention of her and he seemed to clam up.

‘I’m tired of this conversation,’ he stood up from the chair.

She reopened her book, accepting that today wasn’t the day. ‘How many conversations will you just simply refuse to have?’

‘As many as necessary,’ he headed towards the exit.

He may act indifferent, but she had read the reports of the responding agents that day. How he had carried her out of the building, covered in injuries himself. Or how he had been insistent she receive medical care immediately, pushing her into the arms of the nearest EMT. Refusing to be seen until she had.

One day he was going to have to face facts, and she knows he’s not going to enjoy it one bit.

~ ♡ ~

#tsujitsuji #ayamura #soutsuji #bsd gaiden #bsd ayatsuji #bsd tsujimura

4 notes · View notes

bearsinpotatosacks · 2 years ago

Text

Top Gun Idea where Goose lives but Goose and Mav fall out of touch. Maybe it's a follow on from this post where Mav stays and plays more volleyball, they get to trusting Ice and Slider more so Goose doesn't die on Hop 31. In fact, the accident doesn't happen at all and Goose and Mav go onto draw with Ice and Slider for the Top Gun trophy.

Goose hopes this means they can stay as instructors for a while and the rest of the Bradshaw brood can live out there with him. But Mav lasts 2 months, and Goose is a little pissed at him but bears it no mind, it's not like Mav intended to do that.

But, this kind of thing keeps happening. He volunteers for a nighttime patrol. He gets them sent off to all corners of the world because of his "Don't think, just do" attitude. Goose knows he encourages it, but even when he tries not to, it doesn’t seem to get through, no matter how many times he tries to tell him to calm down.

Carole gets pregnant again after years if trying, failing, and a miscarriage which almost breaks them. They get promoted to Lieutenant Commanders and Goose even gets a letter saying about being promoted to a Commander. He's on leave and everything looks good, he'll get Bradley to his little league final while Carole goes to an interview about a promotion at work. Everything will be fine, right?

Wrong. Mav signs them up for a one-off mission with Ice and Slider. He says it's just one. They'll leave from Corpus Christi, it's right on their doorstep, and be back by next week with over a month of leave still left before their next deployment.

Goose is pissed. He did not want to be on a mission right now. He should be dropping Bradley off at his little league game. He should be doting on his pregnant wife. He knows he could've declined and let Mav fly with a different RIO but he knows Mav won't be on his A-game without Goose.

Then Mav gets them closer to the enemy than Goose would like. He thinks of Cougar as Mav buzzes the tower, his little girl is 5 now, he has a little boy too that he doesn't have to wait 8 months to see.

When they get back to the lockers, they expect their usual chewing out for buzzing the tower but get nothing. This doesn't mean Mav is off the hook, though. Goose, exasperated, tries to get Mav to see that this needs to stop. He knows Mav cares, he's been close to changing in the past but it never quite stuck. If he could just think a little before he went headfirst into his next crazy scheme, then maybe Goose wouldn't be so tired.

Then, Goose, just Goose, is called to the Captain's office. He goes, confused, only to get the worst news of his life.

Carole had had to go to her interview and rush Bradley to his game, all by herself. Yet, as she rushed, she didn't see a car coming toward her and got into a head-on collision.

They're both alive, they tell him. They try to make it sound good but all Goose can think is how he should've been there. Otherwise his unborn child would still be alive, Bradley wouldn't be covered in burns and comatose, Carole wouldn't be having major surgery on her spine to see if she will ever be able to walk again.

Then, Goose remembers. He would've been there if Mav hadn't signed them up for this mission. So maybe it isn't all his fault.

The Captain tells him they can get him off the ship in an hour and is dismissed. Goose supposes he should head toward his barracks to pack his stuff. But he stops off at the locker room first.

Upon seeing Mav, Goose flips. He tells Mav about what happened but won't take his apology. Because if Mav hadn't have signed them up for this mission, he would've been there. But because he wasn't, Carole drove too fast and now she may never walk again and his son may never wake up.

He tells him about the promotion he's been holding back. He tells him he's done defending him, done pretending that if people just gave him a chance he’d impress them. Mav can get someone else to deal with his bullshit. He's done.

He gets to the hospital the next day and is relieved to see that Carole's alive, albeit not well. They get even more bad news. Not only did she lose the baby, but the damage was so bad that she won't be able to have anymore children naturally. And even worse, the surgery wasn't successful, she won't be able to walk again.

Goose's world shatters a little more. He spends most of the day with her, apart from when he wheels her around to see Bradley in the Children's Intensive Care Ward.

He's covered in bandages and on life support. It looks hopeful that he'll wake up but it's still an if. Carole feels immeasurably guilty, she could lose 2 children because of one mistake. Goose tells her not to feel guilty. He blames himself for not being there, and also Mav for making him not be there.

After Carole goes back to her ward to sleep, Goose stays by Bradley's side when he gets some more visitors. Iceman, Slider, and Maverick.

Mav goes to apologise, says that he knows Goose is mad but Goose interrupts.

"I'm not mad."

Mav's confused but welcomes it. Until Goose continues, his back turned while he holds Bradley's hand like a lifeline.

"I'm not mad because I don't care. I don't care what you think or what you do because I don't care about you. I told you I'm done and I am. I'm going to take that promotion and try and get a placement somewhere close to home. I've got bigger things to worry about than Maverick Mitchell."

Maverick's speechless. Iceman's a little annoyed at Goose while Slider stays quiet.

This is the last time they talk for decades.

Maverick talks to Carole who says she doesn't blame him. She tries to talk to Goose but this is something he won't budge on.

This doesn't mean Carole also cuts Mav off, Goose isn't controlling like that, he still visits when he's on leave. He's still Bradley's godfather, because he does wake up, even though whenever Goose does see Mav, he just nods and leaves the room.

Carole starts using a wheelchair. They move to a bungalow for her and live their life.

Bradley joins the Navy but estranges himself from Mav after finally getting the full story about the accident from his parents. It's only years later, when Goose, now an Admiral, Mav and Bradley get called back to Top Gun that Goose and Mav are finally forced to deal with the problems of the past.

26 notes · View notes

natsumigirl100 · 8 months ago

Text

Chp 1: That's Entertainment (Part 1)

In a world full of sin, a demon girl name Charlie sings through the red, hot, sky.

"At the end of the rainbow, there's happiness."

A human is shown falling down from the sky as a rainbow bursts upwards through the puffy clouds.

"And to find it. how often I've tried."

Charlie is seen being told off by her own father, Lucifer.

"But, my life, is a race. Just a wild goose chase."

Camera pans over to where a figure was pointing at, which shows Hell being circled by Angels.

"And, my dreams, have all been denied. / Why have I always been a failure?"

A shadow of Lucifer looms over a disappointed Charlie as demonic arms and tentacles cover the screen.

"What can the reason be? / I wonder if the world's to blame."

The Earth rotates as many eyes begin to surround it.

"I wonder if it could be me."

The Exorcists are seen smiling deviously as they look down upon the souls they have gotten rid of.

The scene turns to black as the camera focuses on the middle Exorcist's face and halo.

"I'm always chasing rainbows. / Watching clouds drifting by."

The scene fades in on graffiti and signs that says "Fuck You, Heaven", "Punishment" and "Your Days Are Numbered" can be seen throughout Hell.

"My schemes are just like all my dreams. / Ending in the sky."

Charlie heads towards the hotel's balcony as she releases fireworks that signals the rest of Hell that the Extermination has ended.

"A Some fellows look and find the sunshine."

A handful of demons are seen checking the area to see if the coast is all clear.

"I always look and find the rain."

Carmilla Carmine opens the blinds to her room, revealing the display of fireworks. The camera then proceeds to show Zestial and Zeezi, as well as Lucifer himself hiding in the shadows, present in the same room as her.

"Some fellows make a winning sometime."

At The P*** Studios, Velvette takes a selfie with Vox whereas Valentino is not amused when he sees that he got a text from his employee.

"I never even make a gain. / Believe me."

Odette and another demon pull out an angelic spear from a corpse and leave as the cannibals waiting nearby pounce on her dead body.

Rosie then crosses out Franklin's name from the sign above their business.

"I'm always chasing rainbows."

A demon can be seen cleaning up what's been left of the Extermination as other demons begin to freely walk about in the open.

"Waiting to find a little bluebird... in vain." Charlie says as tears trickle down her face.

Charlie looks back at the Clock Tower as it resets the timer for the next yearly cleanse.

A sinner has fallen into Hell and has been transformed into a demon. He falls face-first onto the road and is surprised to see that he is still "alive".

"Aaaaah!" A Four-armed Demon screams out landing onto the floor. "Ugh. Huh? I'm alive! I'm alive-" The Four-armed Demon shouts out in relief, quickly checking himself.

Suddenly, he gets run over by a taxi driven by Travis which Angel Dust walks out of.

Travis snickers.

"Heh. Thanks for the fun time, hot stuff!" Travis says to Angel Dust, with a smirk.

Angel Dust gets out and pushes his hand through his hair and than says to Travis, "Yeah, yeah, listen." Angel Dust says, fixing his hair more.

"Keep this discreet, you hear me? I can't let it get out I'm offerin' my services to randos on the street! It was a quick cash grab" Angel Dust tells Travis, making a gesture with his fingers and snapped his fingers at him, smiling.

"Ya got it?" Angel Dust asked, making sure that everything is out in the open.

"Pfft! Whatever you say, slut Muhehehehehehe!"

Angel Dust than pretends to be offended. "Ouch! Ooh!"He turns back to face Travis. "Such an insult! Let me know when you've come up with something creative to call me"

Angel Dust ooms over Travis and points at him with all his index fingers.

"Sack of poorly packaged horse shit! Tell the missus I said "hi"" Angel Dust says giving him a kiss. "Shnuckums!"

"Pack a - puh..." Travis tries saying something but soon gives up and feels defeated.

Travis angrily drives off, Angel Dust looks behind him to see a vending machine for his namesake drugs.

He goes and gets the "angel dust" and just as he gets a hold of it, a random demon runs by and steals his drugs.

"Yoink!" A Feathered Demon says. Taking the drugs.

"Hey!" Angel Dust says with annoyance in his voice.

Feathered Demon: "Up yours, drag show!" The Feathered Demon says to Angel Dust.

A boulder than proceeds to fall out of the sky, crushing the feathered demon alongside Angel Dust drugs. Angel Dust gasps.

"Oh, my GOD!" He leans in to pick up what's left of his pack of drugs with a devastated look on his face. "MY DRUGS!"

He clenches the cloth angrily and looks up. "Damn it!"

A war ship can be seen passing by, destroying its surroundings.

The camera zooms in on the war ship, revealing Sir Pentious and the his henchmen inside.

Sir Pentious operates the controls to his ship.

"Ahahahahahahahahahahah! Those other

cowardly ssssinners dare not hinder my territorial take over! A wise decision! The power of my machines are unmatched"

He than proceeds to push two levers as his hood flares open.

"No other demon can compare to the likesss of thissss!" He says with confident smile on his face.

"Gee! That was pretty swell, boss!" Egg Boy #23 states to Sir Pentious.

"Yeah!" Egg Boy #666 says, agreeing with Egg Boy #23.

"You really showed them what for! I liked when you" Another Egg Boy says using his hands to mimic the action of a shooting ray gun. "Shot them with your ray gun!"

The Egg Boy suddenly gets slapped away by Sir Pentious.

"I wish he'd shoot me with his ray gun!" Egg Boy #23 says with the other Egg Boy patting him.

Sir Pentious hood flares open. "At this rate, I will seize control of the entire west side of The Pentagram by day's end!" He pushes a few buttons. "And nothing," He than pulls the levers towards him. "not a single beast in this inferno of suffering will be able to take back this empire from" He squeezes an Egg Boy with his tail. "my constrictive grasp!"

An Egg Boy suddenly pops on screen and pops open a bottle of whiskey onto Sir Pent's face. Sir Pent proceeds to swat said Egg Boy aside before throwing the squeezed Egg Boy aside as well.

"Oh, boy!" A random Egg boy states.

"Hell will be mine! And everybody will know the name of Sir Pen-"

Sir Pentious is soon interrupted by a scream coming from offscreen. Sir Pent and two Egg Boys become surprised.

"EDGELORD!" A woman name Cherri Bomb says.

Sir Pentious offended states, "Pardon?!"

He looks around angrily and eyes the two Egg Boys behind him. "Who said that?! What did you just say to me, you fried chicken fetuses?!" Hissed Sir Pentious.

"Speak up!" He demanded.

The Two Egg Boys petrified says, "That wasn't us, Mr. Bossman."

A small bomb with a print of a skull on it breaks through Sir Pent's ship. It then lands right between Sir Pent and the two Egg Boys.

The bomb proceeds to blow up, leaving red smoke behind.

Sir Pentious coughs and hacks from this.

As the smoke clears up, the owner of the scream is revealed to be Cherri Bomb as she prepares another bomb in hand.

Cherri Bomb: "You lookin' for a fight, old man?!"

Cherri Bomb asks, with a glint of mischief in her smile.

She begins to juggle around her cherry bomb. "Why don't you get that tinker toy bullshit off my turf before I-" she proceeds to throw and catch the bomb "smash it?!"

A large pipe falls on top of an already dead Egg Boy, crushing him as Sir Pent and Cherri momentarily look at the carnage.

Cherri Bomb grins sadistically "...More!"

"Oh!" Sir Pentious hood flares open. You wanna go, missy?! Well, I'm happy to oblige! Ahahah!"

Sir Pentious is then backed up by his henchmen of Egg Boys.

The fight between the two than begins.

#Hazbin Hotel: Alastor x OC Reader (Season 1)

0 notes

phoenixyfriend · 3 years ago

Text

Okay so a bit ago @atagotiak (Tia) proposed the following on discord:

I do not remember where I have seen this but it hasn’t come out of my brain. But I’m thinking about it now: AU where Korkie isn’t an Obitine baby. Bo-Katan is I tend to think of the Kryze sisters as relatively close in age but they’re animated so it’s not like you can really tell

Which like. Obviously I am on board. This is hilarious, and there is so much potential for shenanigans.

(First part is from a group brainstorm, second part is me outlining a fic concept based on this.)

Bo-Katan has so many issues based around THE LIES, MOM

Tia:

Let’s say Satine had her at 16-17 and so Bo is now 19ish by tcw and this is how she does teen rebellion

Ahsoka and Bo-Katan meet early, and Ahsoka receives some Bitching about how Obi-Wan is being more of a dad to his grandpadawan than to his actual daughter.

Ahsoka: ...does he, like, know? That you're his?

Gel (@gelpenss):

Bo-Katan may be operating under some uh. Some Ideas about what exactly the force lets people sense. She is CONVINCED obi-wan knows and has known since the minute she was born.

Ahsoka asks if she can comm her grandmaster--she wonders if she should bring up that Bo-Katan is Anakin's age--and just goes "So like did you know you have a biological daughter?"

Liz (@lizasweetling):

Anakin is going to feel disproportionately threatened by this news isn't he it's so unnnecessary- she doesn't even like him! they don't know each other!!

Redirect the teenage rebellion into sibling rivalry

Gel:

Anakin is either gonna feel threatened or SMUG in like a horrible goose “that’s not how that works” way Like, if anakin found out bo-katan was convinced obi-wan knew, I think he could be convinced that obi-wan Knew and then he’d be like “HAH HE LIKES ME BETTER HE COULD’VE HAD HIS DAUGHTER BUT HE TOOK CARE OF ME.” simultaneously combined with raging insecurity of “oh god his own blood daughter wasn’t enough for him maybe someday he will just drop me like a hot potato”

Ahsoka and Korkie just eating chips on the side like "wow I don't. Want to be involved in this."

God it would be really funny if Korkie was ANOTHER oops baby that Satine just never fucking told him about.

And Korkie's just like. Awkwardly pretending not to know Bo-Katan because she's so embarrassing.

Tia:

Obi-Wan, once he gets over the shock: and you ran away from home to join Death Watch? You need better taste in guerrilla movements, young lady.

(Anakin has mixed feelings about someone else getting an Obi lecture lbr.)

Tia:

Obi-Wan lectures other people regularly, probably. This is different though. For reasons. No Anakin will not explain the reasons

Gel:

Anakin is just SO allergic to introspection.

Doc (@thisarenotarealblog):

Bo-Katan: oh like you would know anything about guerilla movements... Obi-Wan: I would, as a matter of fact. He then refuses to elaborate

Tia:

Ahsoka & Korkie have 'I'm the relatively well-adjusted one, despite being the baby' solidarity Really it's partly just that the galaxy hasn't had enough time to fuck them up yet I just realized, while definitely not like, the most well behaved or obedient of the kids & young adults. There's still a bit of like. Anakin gets to experience being the good sibling here.

He's such a MESS but he's not a terrorist yet, so...

ANYWAY here's the ficlet I brainstormed last night.

We kick off with a slightly different order of events. Bo-Katan is known to be alive and Out There Somewhere, Causing Problems, but has not yet run into any of the Jedi, and hasn't seen Satine since she ran away from home. There are rumors on Mandalore proper about her being Satine's daughter, not sister, everyone dismisses it.

Except Anakin. He wants to know if he has a sister (Obi-Wan basically adopted him, right, so that means this Bo-Katan would be his adopted sister, and that's... something). He's paranoid about her taking his place, but also he's Anakin and a little mucky in the head about family, and so he decides he has to know The Truth! of Obi-Wan's possible lovechild with this Mandalorian lady.

Because there are so many rumors and he's. You know. He's Obi-Wan's kid. He doesn't need competition. Ahsoka's fine, he already adores her, and literally everyone said Korkie had taken a DNA test years earlier for the same rumors reason and he's not Satine's.

He hears the rumors and, as one does, steals some of Obi-Wan's DNA (well, he says 'hey, can I borrow your hairbrush' and walks out with it while Obi-Wan is lecturing him for not packing according to the excel sheet Obi-Wan gave him).

He hunts down Bo-Katan, almost gets murdered by her while trying to steal some of her hair, and then fast-talks his way into explaining what he was trying to do.

Bo-Katan is annoyed but like. She's curious. This is the first person she's met that has Kenobi DNA on hand for the test.

Unfortunately for everyone's sanity, the paternity test comes back positive.

Bo-Katan is overcome with rage and shows up back on Mandalore--shocking a number of people who all thought she was dead--and yelling at her apparently mother about lying to her for her entire life and how DARE YOU, WHAT THE FUCK--

Anakin is like. Cheering her on. He agrees that never sharing the truth was a sketch move. Satine's just standing there, waiting for Bo-Katan to wind down, wincing every little bit. Obi-Wan is uncomfortable and a little horrified, and also getting so ready to ream Anakin out for whatever the hell he did. "Why do you assume I did something?" "Did you?" "...yeah."

Satine manages to explain that she had done it first to protect Bo-Katan, and since she'd ended up just as involved in her life as she would have been with the truth, it hadn't seemed particularly important to change the wording around from sibling to parent (Anakin is crying and unsubtly edging closer to Obi-Wan and Ahsoka really wants to not be here) and also Bo-Katan ran away before the birthday where Satine was going to tell her things, to join a terrorist group that wanted to kill the very sister-actually-mother she was so mad about lying to her and also what do you think you are wearing young lady--

"I thought you were mom-ing me because you had that stupid 'eldest daughter syndrome' and our parents were dead and you were old already, not that you were actually my mom!" "Excuse you, I'm barely in early middle age, thank you." "...yeah, no, you're old." "You're grounded." "You can't ground me!" "You're in my house again, I most certainly can!" "For calling you old?" "FOR JOINING A TERRORIST ORGANIZATION THAT'S TRYING TO KILL ME, BO."

There were definitely jokes about Bo being way small and a little slow for her age when she was a kid, because they backdated her actual birth to before Satine's mom died, which means claiming Bo is like. A solid year and a half younger than they claim, which they can't pull off without raising her in secret first, claiming she's an ill child, and then introducing her to people when she's like. Five. Officially six and a half.

Anakin is DELIGHTED to learn that she's younger than him by more than he thought.

If he's getting a sister out of this (shut up, Obi-Wan) then he's going to be a Real Older Brother.

Ahsoka can get the fun and coddling. Bo gets the Vicious Mockery. Anakin wants to ROUGHHOUSE.

(He's just. The worst. It's great.)

Anakin, grinning: you're like. petite. Bo: no, YOU'RE just STUPIDLY TALL Anakin: lol

He carries her under his arm like a really big cat and she wants to FIGHT HIM about it but then Obi-Wan and Ahsoka will get involved, and she can't take three Jedi in combat, which means she'll lose, and then she'll be confined to her room by her Bitch Of A Mom again (she doesn't say that out loud, because Anakin has Feelings about loving and respecting mothers, and can lecture just as long as Obi-Wan can, which Bo was unfortunate enough to find out), so she just to just HANG THERE

She can't even get her ARMOR because she's a "threat to public safety" and "known menace with a history of violence" and "loyal to a fringe extremist group meaning to kill many government officials" it whatever and it's just like SO rude

Doc:

Tangential comment: I love the idea that when Anakin feels like it he can lecture like obiwan "I learned from the best"

#Bo Katan Kryze #Anakin Skywalker #Satine Kryze #Obi Wan Kenobi #Obitine #Ahsoka Tano #Korkie Kryze #star wars #the clone wars #phoenix posts

481 notes · View notes

pollyna · 2 years ago

Text

There's a moment, after he buzzes the tower and before he prepares to lend that old shoe box that should be in a museum and not up in the air, where he waits to hear another jet doing the same maneuver as he did. Rooster's laugh is so similar to Goose's that he can almost pretend his RIO is still in the back of his jet and it just needs that specific sound to happen, because if it happens, it means-not even Maverick knows what it could mean.

But then they're back on the carrier, alive for some kind of miracle, and there isn't a cloud in the sky, nothing to hide the vastness of it all. Nothing to hide that no second jet buzzed the tower with him because Goose wasn't in his backset and neither was Merlin. And up there, on his wings, he was alone with the hope of a shadow that he would never see again.

It's all a split of a second, but their absence burns in his heart so fiercely that he can almost feel like he will pass out. When Phoenix, and then Bob, and Hondo and Rooster, hug him, Mav can't help but let the memories linger for a little longer. Long enough to feel another pair of hands hugging him against his chest, another pair of hands checking out for injuries. Another voice asking him if everything's okay.

#pete maverick mitchell #it's his first flight without his wingman #and it's on an f-14 jfc #mav wants them back so badly he can barely put it in words #tom iceman kazansky (mentioned)#nick goose bradshaw (mentioned)#sam merlin wells (mentioned)#TO AIRBOSS JOHNSON AND HIS COFFEE #implied icemav #the dagger squad (mentioned)#bernie hondo coleman (mentioned)#bittersweet #top gun: maverick

110 notes · View notes

fruitydiaz-archived · 3 years ago

Text

my darkest nights

A post 5.01 sort of speculation fic

Eddie makes it back home after the shift from hell and is grateful that he escaped Buck's persistent questioning - until a nightmare wakes him up and Buck shows up at his front door anyways. Because of course he does.

2,877 words

AO3 link

Eddie’s never been more grateful to be so exhausted after a shift. He’s never found himself standing in the locker room, staring at the slope of Buck’s slumped shoulders, the weight of his head pulling him down, and feeling grateful for it. He slips out of the locker rooms and to his truck without anyone noticing—everyone worn too close to the bone to focus on anything other than stripping off their uniforms and leaving for their respective homes.

What was supposed to be a 12-hour shift had turned into a 24-hour shift that dragged on, the ransomware attack sending first responders all over the city, wild goose chase after wild goose chase after literal wild goose chase. All the while Buck’s eyes rarely left Eddie. Normally, Eddie felt comforted by Buck’s constant presence, the way his eyes never strayed too far from him, especially when he found himself retreating into his head too much on calls.

But ever since the hospital—ever since running into Dr. Salazar—Buck’s eyes on him weren’t gentle and reassuring, equal parts check in with me and I’m checking in with you. They were worried and persistent and they made the hairs on the back of Eddie’s neck stand up.

By the time the power had been restored and the team had been cut loose, even Buck was too tired to chase Eddie down.

For the most part, Eddie is grateful, as he pulls into his driveway at 9 am, walking into his house and finding it quiet and empty. He’s thankful that he decided to leave Christopher with Pepa the day before, not knowing that his half shift would turn into a full shift from hell. For a moment he considers stopping in the kitchen to clear out the fridge of all the food that was definitely spoiled during the city-wide blackout, but his body screams for his bed and he listens.

He’s grateful when he pulls the curtains shut, switches off all the lights, and slips under the covers.

He’s grateful. Until the darkness settles around him again, until the sheets wrap themselves too tight around his body, until his eyes fly open and he finds himself searching frantically through the dark for a pair of wide, equally startled blue eyes.

He’s grateful until he realizes that he’s alone.

It’s not a panic attack that wakes him up—because Eddie doesn’t panic—but it takes him 10 minutes to get his heart rate back down. This sleep pattern is becoming painfully familiar to him, like finding an old t-shirt in the back of his closet that he hasn’t worn in 5 or so years, the material tight and constricting around his shoulders and chest. It’s 11:45 in the morning and he knows that trying to fall back asleep is useless, so he takes a quick shower and decides to clean out the fridge anyways.

When there’s a knock on his front door 30 minutes later, Eddie thinks he really shouldn’t be surprised.

But he still is when he pulls open the door and finds Buck standing in front of him, curls fresh and wet against his forehead, the circles under his eyes no less prominent than they were three hours ago. The spike of annoyance is almost immediate because Eddie knows that Buck got just about as much sleep as he did—if not less—and it was Eddie’s fault.

“Buck,” He starts to say, ready to wave him off again, turn him around on his porch and shove him back towards his jeep.

“I—is Christopher here?” Buck cuts him off, eyes darting over his shoulder. Eddie presses his lips together and shakes his head gently.

“He’s with Pepa,” He starts again but this time it’s Buck’s body that cuts him off, shoving his shoulder between Eddie and the doorway, pushing his way into Eddie’s house before he’s even had the opportunity to protest.

“What the hell is going on, Eddie?” Buck’s long legs make easy work of the distance between Eddie’s doorway to his kitchen and Eddie follows right on his heels, helpless and frustrated.

“Nothing’s going on, Buck. I told you to drop it.”

“Well I can’t, Eddie,” Buck says emphatically, spinning around and leaning back against Eddie’s counter. He pauses for a moment, wide eyes searching Eddie’s face before they drop to the floor. His fingers fumble with the hem of his sweatshirt and Eddie’s struck by how small he looks, shoulders hunched, bent inward.

He knows Buck pushes because he cares. Hell, if it were the other way around and Eddie had found out Buck had been to see a cardiologist and didn’t tell him, he wouldn’t have ever let them leave the hospital without finding out why. But Buck can’t know about this—whatever it is. Because Buck won’t drop it even after he finds out and all Eddie wants to do is move forward. He doesn’t get why no one else understands that.

“It wasn’t anything serious, Buck,” He tries again, but the way Buck stares back at him makes him feel like his body’s made of glass.

“Because if it was you would tell me?”

Eddie swallows. He holds Buck’s gaze and nods, a jerky aborted movement, before averting his eyes.

“Good, because four months ago you got shot.” Eddie ignores the way his entire body tenses as Buck continues. “And then you sat in the hospital room and told me that if anything ever happened to you I would be Christopher’s legal guardian.”

He doesn’t say anything and when he looks up again Buck has taken a step closer. He hovers over Eddie slightly, eyes soft and imploring.

“If something happens to you, I need to know. I want to know.”

“It was—it wasn’t a heart attack,” Eddie says quietly.

“But you thought it was.”

“The doctor said…they think it was a panic attack.” Eddie’s stomach twists at the gentle recognition that crosses Buck’s face. He’s not surprised in the slightest. Eddie can picture him easily, back at his loft, sitting on the edge of his bed, phone in hand, searching google for an explanation as to why Eddie would think he was having a heart attack if he wasn’t.

Realistically, Buck probably knew what was up while they were still in the hospital. But if Eddie can just pretend for a little longer—

“You don’t agree with them,” Buck says eventually and Eddie feels heat crawl up the back of his neck.

“I don’t panic,” He says as a reflex, the words familiar, having taken up residency on the tip of his tongue over the last couple of days. But the moment they’re out in the air, the moment he says them to Buck, he knows he’s lost the battle.

“Everybody panics.”

“I don’t.”

“Eddie, you got shot—”

“Why does everyone want to talk about that?” Eddie can’t keep the frustration from bleeding out into his words, not even through his gritted teeth. “I lived. I lived and he...he’s dead. I’ve moved on, why can’t everyone else?”

Eddie’s eyes are wide and frantic as he looks at Buck, pleading, and for a second Buck gets a glimpse at Eddie as a child. He gets a glimpse at Eddie before he closed himself off, before he was taught to build up walls around his heart, before he learned to shove every emotion down further and further until the only thing left was his ability to move forward. Before he learned how to control.

He reaches his hand out, settling it firmly on Eddie’s shoulder, thumb skipping over the pulse point in his neck.

“Eddie, it happened. Just because you don’t talk about it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. I—I watched you almost die, Eds.”

“But I didn’t,” Eddie repeats, voice small.

“And I’m really fucking glad you didn’t,” Buck agrees on an exhale. “I get that you want to move on but until you actually talk about what happened, you’re not going to be able to.”

Buck hesitates for a moment, his eyes searching Eddie’s face. Eddie stares back at him and eventually, Buck sucks in his bottom lip and drops his hand from Eddie’s shoulder. He steps back against the counter, looking down at his hands.

“Eddie, you’ve been through a lot. You’ve seen things that most people don’t even think to worry about. It all adds up, you know?”

“But I’m used to it—it’s not the first time I’ve almost died,” Eddie says and Buck does his best not to flinch, the way he always does when Eddie casually mentions his own mortality, the number of times he’s stared death in the face only to turn his back on it and fight in the opposite direction. He takes a deep breath and pushes back from the counter, turning and slowly making his way towards Eddie’s kitchen table.

“You know, I still talk to Dr. Copeland about what happened that day, sometimes,” Buck pulls out a chair and slowly sinks down into it, his joints cracking as he does. He looks up at Eddie, who feels frozen in place, struck by the realization that it’s been four months and this is the first time Buck has ever actually mentioned the shooting, the first time he’s ever talked about it as something that happened to him too.

“For weeks I couldn’t look in the mirror because I—I would remember standing in the hospital bathroom after they took you in and seeing…your blood everywhere.”

Buck’s words settle in the pit of Eddie’s stomach like a rock. He wants to say something gentle and encouraging, but his throat feels tight, like it’s closing up on itself, and all he can do is stare back at Buck.

“Some nights I still have nightmares where I wake up and I can feel your blood on my hands. Or—or sometimes I wake up and in my dream…we never made it to the hospital. Or I’m frozen and I watch you die in the street. And it takes everything in me not to call you and make sure you’re alright. That you’re still alive.”

Eddie eventually makes his way to the chair opposite Buck, sliding into it with robotic, stilted movements that feel like they’re made by someone other than himself.

“I didn’t know,” He says quietly, and Buck regards him with a face full of guilt and pain.

“I knew you didn’t want to talk about it. But…maybe I should’ve tried harder. I’m sorry,” Buck says and Eddie’s face twists.

“You don’t have to apologize for that, Buck.”

“The point is, no matter how much time has passed, I still think about that day. And I wasn’t the one who got shot.”

Eddie’s jaw works and lets his eyes fall to the table, trying to find something else to focus on, his heartbeat rattling in his chest. He traces the surface, noting all of the different dings and marks in the wood, the water stains from years of use, from years of living. He doesn’t remember the story behind each mark—some of them weren’t even made by him (or Christopher, or Buck, or anyone else they know). The table was a late-night purchase off of Facebook one of the first nights Eddie spent alone in their house. He remembers feeling a great sense of pride when he made the purchase like he was finally moving forward, achieving something for himself and for Christopher, doing the right thing. And then he remembers the deep sense of dread and loneliness that washed over him immediately after. A table was something he and Chris needed, but Eddie wasn’t used to furniture shopping alone. He couldn’t help but think about how Shannon would’ve hated the table he chose—and she told him as much when she eventually saw it.

He remembers Shannon and the way she had suddenly fallen back into his life, like a rare kind of meteor, a once in a lifetime kind of thing, crashing through the sky, fiery and fierce, ripping through the ozone layer and leaving a crater in its wake. That’s how he felt when Shannon died—torn and empty.

That’s how he felt in the months after the shooting, too. Even as he fought to get up each morning, fought to go to physical therapy, fought through his mandated counseling sessions, fought to regain mobility so he could get some sense of independence back, so that he didn’t feel so useless in his own home.

None of it cured the emptiness. Not even when he reached his hand out some nights and felt the warmth of Ana’s body next to him. Not even when she held him in her arms, ran her fingers through his hair. He doesn’t feel anything.

Or—maybe that’s not true. Maybe he does feel something, something he’s just been ignoring—an uneasiness deep in the pit of his stomach. An uneasiness that spreads, slow and quiet until suddenly it’s taken over his whole body—panic.

He does his best to ignore it but nothing soothes it—and maybe that’s what he’s been doing this whole time. Trying to soothe the ache, the fear. Reaching for the things he thought would bring him comfort, would help him move on. And acknowledging this pain and panic means that it’s not working. None of it’s working. Not this, ignore it and move on mentality, not this relationship with Ana. Because it’s all connected, isn’t it?

Three days before Eddie got shot in the street, Carla reached across the table and took his hand, and told him to be sure he was following his heart. Three days later he was bleeding out on the street, eyes locked with Buck’s, the two moments twisted and tied together in his history, a knot so tight Eddie didn’t think he could ever untie them.

Looking back up at Buck, Eddie remembers the dream he woke up from earlier. The dream itself isn’t important—it was just one in an endless sea of scenarios that have blended together into one long continuous nightmare; an empty street, a shot in the air, fire, blood, screaming, mud, water, gasping for air—but Eddie remembers what he was searching for when he woke up.

Blue eyes, equally startled.

“I don’t,” Eddie says suddenly, his voice surprising him. He pauses, looks back down at his hands. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?” Buck asks quietly. His hands slide across the table and hesitate just for a moment before they cover Eddie’s own. The relief is almost instant—not total but enough.

“Ask for help,” Eddie responds. Buck squeezes his hands and he looks back up at him. He swallows, hard, at the sight of Buck’s wide, pale blue eyes staring back at him. Eddie could get lost in them. Eddie wants to get lost in them. He thinks he could be safe there.

“You just did.”

It takes a moment for Eddie to realize he’s crying. It takes him even longer to realize this is the first time he’s ever cried in front of Buck. But after everything they’ve gone through, after this whole conversation, he can’t find it in him to feel ashamed of it. Especially not when Buck’s looking at him with nothing but sincerity and honesty in his eyes. And it hits him then that Buck loves him.

Eddie thinks maybe this is what it’s like to be loved in your entirety. He’s not sure he’s ever felt anything like it before. He doesn’t have time just yet to unpack the way it feels to have Buck look at him like that, to feel like he’s been cracked down the middle and opened up to reveal every ugly vulnerability and be met with nothing but love.

But it feels right. It feels like a step forward. A step in the right direction.

Eventually, he’ll have to go back to therapy. He’ll have to unpack the events from that day, the anger he never let himself feel, the fear that his life was about to be cut short, the regret he felt staring across the 20 feet of asphalt at Buck, covered in his blood.

He’ll have to talk to Christopher because he knows his son is too attentive for his own good, and if his trip to the hospital taught him anything (and it taught him a lot) it was that Christopher had no intention of playing along with this charade Eddie had going, and he saw right through it.

He’ll have to talk to Ana. He’ll have to confront the fact that when he searches for comfort in the middle of the night, in the midst of his panic, he doesn’t find it in the shape of her body, but in the image of Buck.

One day, he’ll have to face those feelings head-on. He’ll have to untangle this web of repression and fear, the threads of which had been spun so long before Eddie was ever aware that they’re practically embedded in his DNA.

But for now, he finds peace in his kitchen, his hands in Buck’s, blue eyes on his.

And he feels safe here. If only for the moment.

#starry eyes and all that #writing #911 fox #buddie #my fic #one day i'll go through and tag all of my fics but that day is not today #this might be bad but it’s the first complete thing i’ve written since uh…july! so

72 notes · View notes

suicidalslasher · 4 years ago

Text

𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒍𝒚 𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒍𝒚 ➤ 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒆

Here's one of three Carrie White fics!! :D This is honestly short and sweet, plus simple... compared to the other two. But.... it's here and I'm very much happy with the way it came out. I hope you all enjoy it, as well.

Although, the gif is of Sissy, you can pretend it's either version of Carrie.

(Chloe or Angela's. I, personally, just prefer Sissy's. Although, I love all three.) And despite it being Sissy, too, I took inspiration from the (2002) adaption with Angela whereas Carrie never died in the accident of her house.

Instead, she lives and runs away. And yadda yadda. Enjoy!! xx

Warnings: None. Unless you count fluff and love confessions UwU.

“I know she was your friend but c’mon, (Y/N). She was nothing more than a piece of shit… Grow up. Move on.”

“She was a monster, (Y/N). Do you really think she wasn’t? After all she had done? She destroyed everything and hurt so many people… she killed several hundred people, too… if that isn’t a cruel, heartless bitch, I don’t know who or what is.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re just like her…. are you a demon in disguise, too, (Y/N)?”

They said the same exact thing. The statements were always said by different people but the topic of the subject remained the same - Carrie White. Carrie White was the devil. So on and so forth…

It was a constant reminder she no longer was here with us - with me.

The tragedy that struck on prom night wasn’t my fault. Nor, was it Carrie’s.

Carrie had so much anger built up within her, she was bound to explode with rage eventually. And that day just so happened to unravel at the dance. All thanks to the students (and some teachers) of Bates High.

They constantly bullied Carrie for no real given reason, they harassed her for things she couldn’t quite control, either. Not me, though.

I’m not crazy, even if there are people that say I am and even if there are those that put words in my mouth I never said to begin with, too -

It’s not true.

None of it is true.

Everything you’ve read about Carrie White is false. Everything you’ve, more than likely, heard about her is furthest from the truth, also.

She’s not a monster. She never was one. She was just an ordinary girl, begging to be loved, to be happy. And I loved her.

I just… I wish more than anything she realized how much I loved her. I was in love with Carrie White, truly, madly, deeply…. in love with her.

And nobody could ever change how I felt - how I feel - towards her.

The night I was going to confess my feelings, believe it or not, was before the dance. Before everything happened.

The moment I arrived to the dance, well…by then, it was too late. I hadn’t known it yet but almost everyone was trapped inside the gymnasium, nails digging through the doors as they tried - and failed - to escape.

Their blood curling whines and agonizing moans were silenced by the music that played out on the speakers which echoed outside of the windows and bounced back and forth from the building to the parking lot.

I didn’t realize something terrible had happened until I smelled an intoxicating scent that caused my eyes to blur over with tears and caused me to grimace as the odor only grew stronger, thicker.

I winced and gazed around the parking lot which still remained full of different colored vehicles. Confusion struck but after a moment or two later, realization hit like a ton of bricks.

From where I had stood, I saw a huge cloud of gray smoke lingering around the building, only growing more and more thicker in the sky.

When I first arrived, the sky was crystal clear. Not a single speck of white was seen from above. Now, that beautiful shade of blue was replaced with dark and haunting clouds of gray.

Even the moon was no longer hanging in the air for the smoke had it hidden.

The odor that swarmed the air, I realized, was people’s flesh burning. One by one, people within the school were dying and suffocating to death.

Call me whatever you wish, as I’ve been called every name in the book, but I mean it when I say that I could care less about the students and teachers of Bates High. If that made me an insensitive bitch, so be it.

The only reason I even attempted to try to get inside the building was because I remembered Carrie had gone to the dance with Tommy Ross. And I’d do anything to save her.

Expect… I couldn’t.

Every area of the school was locked. Every entrance and exit doors were shut tightly. No matter how hard I tried to open them, the damned thing wouldn’t budge.

I even tried to go through the windows but they were shut, too. There was nothing I could do.

Nothing expect fall to the ground and bury my face in my hands as tears began to fall, one by one, a tear dropped and soaked my hands and stained my cheeks.

Everyone said prom was a night to remember… but I doubt anyone wanted to remember their prom like this.

*~*

The following week after the incident, I heard a knock at my door. Slowly making my way out of bed, I walk down my too small and narrow hallway and open the door once I’ve reached the entrance, glancing at the person behind the screen door.

Sue Snell stood there, hands in her pocket and a look of sadness painted across her face.

��(Y/N),” She began. “Can…. can we talk?”

“About what?” I snarled, not caring if I came off as rude or ignorant or any other definition. I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to sleep and never wake up. I already knew where the conversation was going and what the main subject was going to be about. And I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to talk about it.

“It’s about last week… It’s…. it’s about Carrie.”

“I already know. She’s dead, okay? She’s dead and she isn’t going to come back, you don’t have to remind me.” I go to shut the door but Sue sticks her foot out and stops me from doing so. I narrow my eyebrows at her and give her a questioning gaze.

“Please…” She but all begged. “Tonight. Meet me at her headstone, tonight, would you? Midnight. I’m being serious. Trust me on this, would you? I know you have no reason to… but please.. if not for me, for Carrie.”

“Fine. I’ll think about it. Now, I have to go.”

“(Y/N), wait-”

Before she could finish her sentence, I’m closing the door in her face and storming back to my bedroom, falling onto my mattress with an ‘ugh’ leaving my lips.

For the past few days, I didn’t do anything expect cry and scream into my pillow.

The moment I got back under the covers and buried my face under several blankets and two of my pillows, the tears came rushing back down.

I was surprised I still had tears left in me from all the crying I had done, truth be told.

I tried, really, I did… to be strong but it was so hard. Especially when Carrie wasn’t here to make things better.

It was so difficult to live when the one person you kept yourself alive for is no longer around…. it’s hard to live when your heart is no longer beating.

The day Carrie White died was the day a little part of me died, too.

*~*

It was 11:50PM.

The house was eerily silent. The only noise, from where I was at in my bedroom, was the whistle of the wind and the gentle knocking of tree limbs outside on my window.

I glance at the clock by my bedside table. It now read 11:52.

I sigh and sit up, my feet touching the cold hardwood floor. I rub my hands over my face tiredly as I try to come to a decision whether or not I wanted to meet Sue at Carrie’s gravestone.

I came to the decision… yes, I should go. After all, I wanted to make sure nobody wrote any more harsh and ruthless slurs on Carrie’s grave.

Even in death, they wouldn’t let her rest and wouldn’t stop picking on her. Carrie should be able to rest and yet there’s hundreds of people who forbid her from doing so. It was a shame.

People say Carrie White is a monster or the daughter of the Devil himself but in reality, the only monsters are the ones that won’t leave that poor girl alone.

"If you look in the face of evil - evil's going to look right back at you."

*~*

The time I got to the cemetery it had just turned midnight. As I exited out the car, it seemed as if the howl of the wind grew louder upon my arrival.

“Hello?” I call out. My voice seems loud against the empty area and I grimace; I didn’t realize how wobbly it sounded until I had spoken.

(I blamed that on all the off and on crying sessions I’ve done recently.)

“Sue? Are you there? Hello?”

Nothing.

I groan and face palm, shaking my head from side to side. I should’ve known not to come. I should have known better and yet-

“(Y/N).”

My eyes dart forward and I feel my knees begin to buckle out underneath me and all the air in my lungs is snatched away from me.

“(Y/N).” She repeats, walking toward me and gives me a wry smile. “Hi.”

“C-Carrie?” My voice shook and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. There she was, alive, breathing and all.

And she was right in front of me.

“You… I thought you were dead.” I was speechless. I could barely form any sentences without stumbling over my words.

“That’s why I’m here,” Carrie explained, stepping closer to me. She rests the palm of her hand across my cheek, fingers brushing over my skin and I shudder, goose bumps prickling ever so softly across my arms.

“I didn’t know how to tell you….” She continued, sighing as she moves a loose piece of hair back and out from my face, tucking it behind my ear.

“I didn’t want anyone to know but Sue found me on the side of the road when my house collapsed… she took me under her wing and helped me out.” She informed. Carrie looked up and gave me a shy smile, her cheeks turning a bright rosy red.

“She insisted I should tell you, too… I was wanting to tell you, regardless but… I had been so scared. I’ve been terrified recently…. and with everything that happened, I only got more scared and… well, I thought you’d be like them and laugh at me or go on and tell the world where I was at and-”

“Carrie, I love you.” I blurt, unable to stop the words from forming out my mouth.

“I’d never, in any way, hurt you. I’ve loved you for the longest time and I thought…. I thought you were dead, Carrie… and it truly felt like I lost a piece of myself, too.”

The blush on Carrie’s cheeks grows darker, deeper as she nods. Tears swell in the corner of her eyes and she laughs softly, taking her hand away from my cheek as she wipes her eyes, sniffling quietly.

“I know. Sue told me, too… and I didn’t believe her. How could anyone love a freak like me? The laughing stock? Everyone’s personal punching bag..” Carrie smiled sadly as she shook her head.

“Mama told me it was a sin, you know? Love only is shared between a man and a woman. Not two men or two women together but… I realized I’d rather burn in Hell and be with the person I love than to go to Heaven being the person I’m not. I love you, (Y/N).

“I prayed every night for a friend and you came into my life at the time I needed you the most. You’re not only my best friend but my blessing, too.” By the time she’s finished talking, I’m crying and pulling her into my chest, hugging her tightly.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” I repeat. “From the moment I met you in the library and we bonded over our favorite novels together at the start of school, I knew I wanted to be your friend. I could care less what others thought.

And then when we went to the park that Saturday evening and had a picnic, I knew I loved you then…. I knew that no matter what, whether we were friends or more, I always wanted to make you happy, Carrie White.”

“And you do,” she reassured, voice cracking as she buried her head in the crook between my shoulder and neck. “You make me the happiest girl alive. I’ve never known true happiness until you came into the picture, (Y/N).”

I pull a little bit of ways out and take her face, pressing my hands across her cheeks and with little to no hesitation, I press my lips hungrily against hers.

Carrie, almost instantly, kisses back.

“I love you.” I murmur into the kiss, not daring to pull away.

“I love you.” She muttered. Through the kiss, I can feel the corners of her lips curling up into a smile. A grin finds its way across my face, too.

“Let’s go… let’s get out of here.” She said, pulling back as she looks up and into my eyes. “Let’s leave Chamberlain and never look back.”

And so, well, we did.

Carrie White wasn’t your average or your typical ordinary girl. She had powers, as I came to find out. I knew there was something unique, something special about her and now I knew what it was.

Carrie White wasn’t a demon. Or the daughter of the Devil or none of that sort.

Carrie White was simply just a girl, ready to start her own life and accomplish her own goals and seek happiness.

And I, (Y/N) (L/N) would do anything to help her achieve that.

Carrie White deserved better than to live in fear and shame.

Carrie White, just like anybody else, deserved to be happy.

So, whether you believe me or not, I don’t care.

If you still think she is a monster in disguise or whatever; I do not care.

I know the truth. Sue Snell knows the truth, too. Carrie White is anything but a monster.

Carrie White is, and forever will be, my girl.

And that’s just that.

End of story.

#cierra's stories #my writing #my work #carrie x reader #carrie white x reader #carrie white x yn #carrie white x you #carrie white x fem reader #carrie white imagines #girl x girl imagines #girl x girl fics #girl x girl readers #slasher imagines #slasher fics #horror x reader

192 notes · View notes

dannyphantom-rewrite · 4 years ago

Text

Timekeeper's assistants AU

Alright y'all! This is gonna be my info dump post for the Timekeepers assistant Au- buckle up cause it's gonna be a long one!

Inspired by @queendibz post here

The entire purpose of the assistant squad is to keep all the time lines running smoothly- this can range from stopping a world ending event to making sure things misplaced by natural ghost portals get put back into the right time and place.

So First up on the crew list,

Dan:

-Dan definitely isn't a homicidal maniac anymore but he's not 100 percent "redeemed" either.

-I mean he's probably still a bit of sadist but he tries not to be?

-The best description I can give is that he's in recovery, basically.

-So, Clockwork knew that Dan would eventually bust out of the thermos just because it wasn't built to hold a ghost of his power level for a prolonged period of time. But beyond that?? He has no idea about anything in regards to Dan. Since Dan's creation was averted, his timeline doesn't exist anymore. He's a paradox that exists outside of time, and unfortunately, that means he's the one entity in the multiverse that exists in Clockwork's blindspot. There's no way for him to know what Dan's going to do next.

-Anyway, Dan eventually breaks out of the thermos fully intending to Fuck Shit Up, And Clockwork makes a point of informing him that if he leaves the clock tower he will cease to exist. (Like Dan, the tower exists outside of time, so he's safe there.)

-Dan is the first member of the assistant squad. Granted, it took a while for him to come around to the idea of helping Clockwork but he got there eventually.

-Dan is an entity that was born out of the rage and grief of two very broken people and he has so much shit he's working through as a result

-One of the first things he had to do was recognize and accept that he's an entity that's completely separate from Vlad and Danny. He might have all their memories and the weight of their mistakes on his shoulders, and on top of that, the atrocities he himself committed because of them. The first step is realizing that he doesn't have to be defined by the people that made him.

-It's a really fucking difficult thing to do tho and he's got a lot of weird emotions in regards to Vlad, Danny and the Fentons as a result. A near constant identity crisis, self loathing, daddy issues, something that could arguably be called an Oedipus complex, (FUCKING THANKS, VLAD)

-Cannot stand the smell of fast food, it makes him nauseous and the sight of Nasty Burger sauce alone is enough to make him vomit Ectoplasm.

-He's just a hot mess all around y'all

-He tries to keep his interactions with the Danny's as minimal as possible at first bc of this. The first time he meets them in person he shape shifts into Danny like he did in TUE and just pretends to be one of them. Some of them have had interactions with their respective Dan's already and would be super wary of him and probably pretty freaked out otherwise.

-Dan is eventually allowed to leave the clocktower for supervised "Field missions" with the aid of a time medallion to keep him from poofing out of existence, but it takes a while for clockwork to build up that level of trust.

-Dan's shapeshifting ability Actually comes into play a bit on a lot of those missions, since he can Mimic Danny it also makes sense that he'd be able to impersonate Vlad in the same way. Granted he's not incredibly comfortable taking on either of their appearances but it does help him hone his shapeshifting ability to the point where he's able to pick and choose features from both Vlad and Danny and sorta make his own human disguise.

-Most of the time he acts as the eye in the sky from the tower, monitoring for timeline anomalies and then notifying the appropriate member of the assistant squad.

-He has a room under the clock tower that he operates from. I kinda like the idea of there being like, catacombs down there? Anyway he's got all kinds of monitors and view screens and he very rarely leaves. It also doubles as his "living space." He doesn't need to sleep but he's got a big mess of a pillow fort that he crashes in regardless bc sometimes you just NEED to be unconscious for a while. The catacombs are also absolutely full of those little blob ghosts that wander around the zone bc They're attracted to the ecto energy the tower gives off. He's really annoyed by them at first but they grow on him after a while and now he just dotes on them.

-There's a specific throw pillow sized one that likes to hang out in Dan's room a lot and he ended up getting a little over attached to the stupid thing. His name is Dorian. Bc he's a gift.

-SIR THATS MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT BLOB

-Dan's appearance has changed slightly. He wears his hair loose now and it's kinda just this big fiery mane when it's not contained. His cape is more of a cloak now, it has a hood and he wears it sorta pinned together at the shoulder so the DP logo is covered.

-Dan's relationship with the rest of the Danny's is kinda weird, and a little strained. He has a hard time being around them for very long because, well, he used to sort of be them? Except not really? He does care about them tho, and the last thing he'd want is for one of them to end up like him.

-His relationship with clockwork definitely starts out pretty familial, after he becomes his assistant, anyway. There's room for that to develop into meddling minutes but I'm not entirely sure if I'm gonna go that route yet.

-The Danny's only ever hear his voice for a while before he finally let's them meet him for real, so they end up calling him Charlie for a while as a joke. Cause Ya know. Charlie's angels. Even after Charlie still ends up being his designated name on missions.

Mer! Danny:

-Was recruited bc a lot of the shit that gets sucked through natural portals ends up in a body of water somewhere and when that happens he's on call to retrieve it.

-Is Actually not at all ghostly! Mer Danny's situation is basically the plot of H2O (just add water), or if you haven't seen that, Aquamarine. And by that I mean he's only a merfolk in water.

-He's an electric eel

-His Jack and Maddie are marine biologists, with a particular interest in marine cryptids

-We're taking sea monsters baby!!!

-Not entirely sure how this Danny ended up half mer yet but I'll figure it out, lmao.

-14 years old

-His nickname/ designation is "Moray"

Crown Prince! Danny:

-Nickname/designation is Prince / Princey

-16 years old

-Not allowed to go anywhere in the zone without the Fright knight bc of some ancient ghost law bullshit, so he has a constant babysitter.

-He's next in line bc he sealed away Pariah, but can't take the throne until he is both, A) at least 18 years and B) Completely deceased

-Vlad is his Regent bc he did have a part in the whole sealing the previous king thing, but he's also not completely dead so his power is super limited there.

-As Prince Danny has the crown of fire in his ghost form, although now the name is kinda ironic seeing as it's completely frozen over. It's blue now and it smokes like dry ice.

-As Regent, Vlad has the ring of rage for "safe keeping"

-Vlad and Danny are pretty much constantly at each other's throats, fright knights probably had to shut down more than a few of Vlad's attempts to usurp the crown from Danny through combat.

-Princey deals with the timeline issues that involve the ghost zones' internal / political affairs, and he's gotten very well versed with dealing with the Observants.

Winged! Danny :

-15 years old

-Mallard duck wings

-His Vlad is a swan

-Comes from a family of waterfowl, Jack is a goose, and Maddie is a white swan. Both he and jazz are ducks bc of their grandparents.

-As Fenton his wings are white, like jazz, and as phantom they turn black with a green iridescent sheen.

-He's trans

-Nickname/ designation is inviso Bill. Bc ducks have bills haha get it-

-Ghostly wail?? Nah son he's gotta killer QUACK

-Absolute besties with Mer!Danny/ Moray, sometimes they go swimming together after a mission.

Clone! Danny:

-Physically he's a 12-year-old, but he's only been alive for a few months.

-Alt universe where Vlad manages to stabilize the perfect clone with his own DNA.

-Dani still exists, and the original danny from his time line also rescued the other problematic clones.

-Doesnt like the fact that he's a clone, and very much wants them all DEAD. Bc them running around is a reminder that he's not the real danny.

-Human half looks the same aside from the widows peak and the mallen streak. His ghost half takes after plasmius. Blue skin, and the Hazmat kept it's original white colors.

-Probably has fangs and a forked tounge.

-Not so much a member of the squad as he is someone that they need to be keeping an eye on.

-Does NOT get along with them.

-Dan enjoys making him uncomfortable.

-Designation is Masters / the brat (not to his face tho)

Family Breakfast AU! Danny:

-A BABY

-The boy is a fucking overpowered todler okay. He's an 8 year old.

-The biological son of his Vlad, was born a Halfa. Jack, Vlad and Maddie got their shit together and are in a healthy poly relationship.

-Got separated from Vlad one time in the zone and inadvertently adopted by the assistant squad and clockwork.

-His Vlad is aware of the squad and just. Dad's the crap out of the Danny's as a result. It makes for some..... interesting interactions.

-I can't think of a nickname so I'm just gonna be lazy and say he gets to be the one Tru Danny bc cute little kind privileges lmao.

Full ghost! Danny:

-15 years old, will always look 14.

-Nickname/designation is Toast

-Died in the portal accident and got fucking FRIED.

-He always smells like somethings burning.

-He's really bright and sorta sparks a bit, you can see his bones glowing through the hazmat.

-He still leave the zone to protect his version of amity, but lives with clockwork full time.

Canon Danny (NOT PHANTOM PLANET COMPLIANT) :

-Basically show Danny, except phantom planet never happened fuck you

-Joined the crew after the events of de stabilized

-Also he's trans fuck butch

-Franken! Danny

-Yall remember that Headless Danny Au? This is my take.

-Is Actually 20 years old, but physically stuck at age 14. Bc he's a walking corpse :)

-Came from a timeline that was directly parallel to Full ghost! Danny. He dies in the portal accident, but jack and Maddie are in the lab when it happens and manage to sort of bring him back using a combination of science and freaky ghost junk.

-So he's basically possessing/ stuck inside of his own dead body. Which, is thankfully not rotting or going into rigor mortis bc Ectoplasm is rather similar to formaldehyde, but he's not the most durable thing and bits and pieces fall off from time to time.

-Like his head. For example.

-He's pretty desensitized to it at this point and if he loses a leg after a ghost fight he doesn't see anything wrong with sitting down on the curb of a main street to stich it back on. His being dead isn't exactly a secret.

-Don't ever ask him to "give you a hand" bc he can and will not hesitate to pop one off and Chuck it at you.

-Said hand and any other body part will continue to function just fine even if it isn't attached to anything, btw.

-Nickname/ designation is Adam. Bc. Ya know. that's the name Frankenstein's monster gave itself.

Post Phantom Planet! Danny:

-A very jaded 22 year old who is driven only by spite and enough caffeine to kill a horse

-Very, very tired of the hero thing.

-Being a global celebrity isn't all it's cracked up to be.

-Decided to follow Vlads lead and fuck off to space for a while. Partially to get away from everyone and also partially bc he kinda feels responsible for the fact that the only other person like him and probably floating DEAD in the void somewhere? And yeah Vlad fucked up all on his own but what if he'd tried harder to get through to him things could have been different-

-Joins the crew after a natural portal opens up in space and decides to help out and use clockworks resources to try and track down his Vlad.

-Nickname/ Designation is Polaris, aka the north star.

176 notes · View notes

anon-e-miss · 3 years ago

Note

How is Jazz feeling about having called Prowl a bitlet eater when Tarantulas literally attempted to eat a youngling alive (and was only stopped by Prowl’s intervention)?

"Granny!" Sunstreaker ran across their living room and jumped into Punch's arms. Jazz stood in the doorway as Sideswipe raced after Sunstreaker. With perfect ease, Ori dipped and scooped Sideswipe up in his free arm and cuddled the Twins together.

"Now there's my sweet grandbitties," Punch hummed as he nuzzled them. "Ya been good for yer Geni?"

"Sometimes," Sideswipe replied, giggling.

"Only sometimes?" Punch asked. "Well, ya may still 've beaten Jazz's track record."

"'M wounded, Jazz replied, he got over his shock and stepped through the threshold so the door could shut and lock at his back. "I was waitin' for yer call.

"It was safer to come in comm's silent," Punch replied. "We'll talk. Well, Sweetlings, show me what y'all been up too while I been gone?"

Punch had never seen their berthroom, not this berthroom in any case. They showed Punch the diorama they had made in class, and the toys and crafts they had accumulated. Jazz had replaced everything they had lost in the destruction of the base, and might have gone overboard in his attempts to make it better, make it perfect. His ori looked over his shoulder as the mechlings gave him a tour, he might have already seen, he might have looked around while he had been waiting, but probably not; Punch had his own unique set of morals. Break and enter was fine, snooping outside of the job was not. Sunstreaker took his granny to the art table Jazz had got him and he showed him the picture he was working on.

“This is for Prowl,” he explained. “He said he used to paint watercolours, I wanted to try... It’s smudgy.”

“It’s lovely, Sweetlin’,” Punch stroked Sunstreaker’s helm. “He’s gonna just love it.”

“I want to make for his office,” Sunstreaker explained. “It’s boring. We got’em crystals like you always said we should to the medbay ‘n we made garlands ‘n we put up pictures. It looks happy. His office should be happy, he’s always there.”

“’M sure it’ll be happier with yer picture up,” Punch replied.

The Twins were happy to suck up their granny’s love and Jazz was happy and relieved to have his originator around. It was a relief to have him here. Punch did not pry about the vault and the three horrifying mega-cycles they had lingered there, listening to one of their favourite mechanisms being brutalized. In due time, Jazz thought they would bring it up, in their own way. They were working so well with Rung. He let them stay up passed their berth time to watch a movie with Granny, then Punch tucked them into the large nook Jazz had constructed as their berth. No more pretending they did not recharge best together.

“Ya done brilliantly, ya know,” Punch said when he returned to the living room, after he had sung the mechlings to recharge. “They’re doin’ so good.”

“They feel at their best after they seen Prowl,” Jazz replied. “In their memory purges, they’re listenin’ to ‘m die, listenin’ to all the horrible things they don’t understand. After they seen ‘m, talked wit ‘m, they feel best.”

“Ya had no idea they was so attached to ‘m?” Punch asked.

“I thought they snuck into his office to get a rise outta ‘m,” Jazz replied. “Sides lives to get a rise outta mecha. But no, they been sneakin’ off to see all this time ‘cause they love ‘m.”

“Those two guard their sparks,” Punch said, Jazz shared the regret in his voice. “If they love that mech, he’s worthy o’ it.”

“I know,” Jazz sighed. “‘N I’ve been awful to ‘m. More Bots’ve been awful than not. He ain’t e’er deserve it. I don’t know why he ne’er shared what really happened to ‘m but I can see not wantin’ to talk ‘bout it wit hostile strangers.”

“He wasn’t a turncoat then,” Punch said.

“No,” Jazz replied. “Prowl was a prisoner o’ that madmech Tarantulas. He was his playthin’. His broodcarrier.”

“Primus.”

“Before we took Helix, when it was crumblin’, Tarantulas left ‘m ‘n took his bitlet,” Jazz explained. “From the moment Prowl enlisted, he started tryin’ to get me to go after Tarantulas, ‘n I wasn’t interested in riskin’ mine or my ops necks gettin’ his revenge on his ex. He stopped trying... a while back ‘n I was happier for it. Turns out he stopped tryin’ cause he couldn’t feel his bitlet anymore ‘n he didn’t wanna risk orphanin’ mine by sendin’ me out on a wild goose chase.”

“Ya feel like slag,” Punch guessed.

“Worse than slag,” Jazz replied. “I called ‘m a bitlet eater when I was gettin’ the Twins away from ‘m when they crossed ‘m in the hallway. What I didn’t know was he had saved a younglin’ from actually bein’ eaten by Taratulas, put ‘mself in harm’s way to save a strange mechlin’. I don’t know why he didn’t tear a strip off me. I deserved it.”

“Focus less on what ya deserved ‘n how ya can make it up to the mech,” Punch declared. “Ya want me to sniff out that cretin?”

“I want ya to watch the Twins,” Jazz said. “While I do. I gotta narrow down where to hunt first.”

“I could help wit that,” Punch said. “The Combaticons are on the warpath. The bound with Vortex snapped. Bits o’ the rotor been turnin’ up on their pillows... My guess? He’s not far from Darkmount.”

“There’s a lot o’ places to hide in Polihex,” Jazz said. “That freak’s a mecheater... the Dead End would be a buffet to ‘m.”

“Let’s see if we can’t narrow scrap down further,” Punch replied.

“Prowl said he thought Tarantulas left ‘m in Helix to punish ‘m,” Jazz replied. “If Tarantulas killed Vortex for what he did... It might not be long before he tests Iacon’s security.”

“We’d best keep that mech close then.”

#maccadams #vortex au #tf jazz #tf punch #punch doesn't recognize your locks #anon fic ask #anon asks ficlet

51 notes · View notes

nythberryy · 4 years ago

Text

Hold Me Tight (Erwin x fem!Reader)

I wrote an Attack on Titan fanfiction (oneshot) in which Erwin Smith is a real gentleman.

Words: 2955

Warning:

The story contains 18+ scenes and builds up slow.

-They'd known each other for a long time, yet none of them confessed until that rainy night.-

It starts a bit sad, but trust me, it ends well. 💞

It's my first story written in English, so I apologize for grammatical mistakes and cringe writing.

I hope you’ll still find it enjoyable. 💞

(I also posted it on ao3. You can find me there as: NythBerry)

Thank you for your time!✨

September was usually gilded by the last sunbeams of summer, however that day was colder than usual. As clouds gathered, the sky turned grey. Raindrops began to knock on the red tile roof just to then fall and soak the ground. It was raining all day without a break. Everyone from the city struggled to get through the mud. The carts couldn't fight it, the horses neighed as they tried to push forward. Wooden wheels crackled, some even broke in two.

A tall man walked into the guesthouse. Water was slowly dripping from his clothes. With each step he made, he left a puddle on the freshly washed floor. (Y/N) recognized him in a blink of an eye though his face was covered by the green hood he was wearing. He stopped at the counter and revealed his face. His blonde hair, that was always slicked back nicely, now was a mess. Wet strands fell on his forehead.

(Y/N) put down the mop and wiped her hands to greet the man. "Erwin!"

"Good evening, (Y/N)! I'd like to book a room for tonight."

"What happened to your trousers?" it was covered in mud to the knee "Is it that bad outside?"

"It's raining quite heavily" he said "I don't think I would be able to go back tomorrow."

"I'll prepare a room for you. Just sit down please. There's no one here anyway, except an elderly couple upstairs. Do you want to drink something warm? Tea maybe?"

"Tea is fine, thank you."

Erwin took a seat in front of the counter and watched the woman placing the teapot on the stove. She quickly ran into the pantry and returned with a basket full of baked goods. She put some on a plate and gave it to the man.

"How's your father?" he asked while (Y/N) wiped the floor again. Her father owned this little guesthouse that once was famous.

"He's alright. But I'm afraid we won't be able to afford his medications. Less and less people can afford to book a room and we simply can't make the prices cheaper. I don't really know what to do."

"Don't worry, (Y/N)!" a kind hoarse voice appeared from behind. It was her father. "Welcome, Commander Smith! What brings you here again?"

"Good evening!" he greeted back. "Just another budget negotiation. As usual, the government has no intentions of increasing funds."

"As much as I want to support the Scouts, I unfortunately see why they don't want to do so in moments like this." Her father was in the regiment before he retired. Erwin and he shared similar views on the importance of going beyond the walls. "(Y/N)! Go prepare a room and find some clothes for him."

While she went to search dry clothes that would fit the commander, the two man began to talk about a different topic.

"I know why you visit this place so often" chuckled the father as he opened a bottle of whisky. He poured them both. "I see how you look at her."

For a moment Erwin didn't know what to say, which was quite unusual of him. A small smile curved his lips. "So, you found out my secret."

"It wasn't that hard to figure out. I have eyes. It's that simple." he sipped "You've known my daughter for years. Since when...?"

"It's one of those things that just can't be put in words. It was four years ago, that moment I realized I wanted to see her as many times as I could."

"Why didn't you tell her? You're afraid I'd bring the rifle? Or maybe you're more afraid of her? You think she would reject you?" he smiled "I can tell she has feelings for you too. Haven't you noticed how excited she is seeing you? She's not even looking at other guys, though she's in the age of marriage. What will she do when I'll be gone? At least you, as a commander, would make a great reputation for her." he joked "She'll be left alone like the last leaf on a tree before winter begins."

"That's why I won't tell her. I don't want to cause pain." he grabbed the glass and drank from it "To be honest, I don't even know if I'll be here next month. There's just no guarantee." he sighed "But I'm a selfish man. I still want to see her every time I'm near her. I'm truly the worst. I can't give her happiness, only suffering. I don't want (Y/N) to lose more people."

(Y/N)'s father knew Erwin was right. Her mother passed away, when she was fourteen; lost many loved ones when Shiganshina fell. Childhood friends, friends whom she trusted the most, old neighbours she liked and nearly all relatives of their family were gone now.

Both men knew the feeling. Without further words they agreed and sat back quietly.

(Y/N) heard the conversation. When she heard that Erwin had feelings for her, she thought her heart was going to break through her ribcage, like a desperate bird ready to be free. However, as he continued, her hearth shattered into pieces. (Y/N) pretended she didn't hear anything and told the blonde man his room was ready. He stood up and walked towards the stairs where she was standing.

"Change into these" she gave him the dry clothes "I'll knock on your door in ten minutes."

...

"Can I come in?" she asked. Erwin replied with a yes. (Y/N) walked into the room catching a glimpse of the commander's chest while he was buttoning the last button. He picked up the soaked clothes from the chair and held it out for (Y/N).

"Thank you for taking care of me."

"Erwin..." she began faintly and grabbed his arm "We need to talk."

"About what?" he looked surprised.

"I heard everything and-"

Erwin interrupted. "You don't have to worry about it. I won't do anything." he shook her hand off.

"You don't even want to know how I feel?"

"What would it change? You should find someone better. Someone who can be there for you. Someone who's not selfish. There're many good men out there."

"What about my choice? You think you can make decisions for me?"

He put the clothes back on the chair. "I don't want to put you through hell."

"It's already hell." she said with a slight hitch in her voice "You have no idea how long... How long I've ... Erwin..." Tears welled up in her eyes and rolled down her cheek.

It pained him to see the woman, whom he loved the most, looking so defeated.

"I love you, Erwin!" she cried out "And nothing can change that."

It snapped him out of his stubbornness for a second. He gently pulled (Y/N) into a hug, placing her head on his chest. The feeling of his warmth and beating hearth was pure heaven.

"I want you. Only you."

"(Y/N), I can't give you happiness."

"What it is at all?" she sniffled. "There's no such thing as that... It's not a destination you can arrive to and stay there for the rest of your life. Happiness is a temporary state. It comes and goes. And... What defines it anyways?

"I still don't want you to get hurt. Especially because of me." he paused for a bit "I could die at any time. What if I go on a mission and never come back?"

"You think I don't know that, Erwin? Every time you go out the walls I worry, but... Did you know that in this awful world you're the one who keeps me alive?" she pressed herself against his comforting chest "And what about you? You think you don't deserve your so-called happiness? If you have feelings for me, why don't you..."

As she looked up, her eyes met with his. Tears were coming to his sky-blue eyes.

"Are you sure, (Y/N)?"

"I am. I want you to hold me tight and never let go."

...

Erwin placed his hand on her face caressing her cheek gently with his thumb. He leaned closer to kiss her forehead, then gave another kiss on her nose making her blush. Finally, he pressed his warm lips against hers. He sucked her lips slowly, evenly, as he was dining something sweet as nectar. She was his delicate flower.

His kiss was subtle and tender, however a wave of heat flushed through him causing to kiss more passionately. Erwin slid his tongue across her bottom lip luring her mouth to open for him. His tongue swirled around hers composing an intimate, sensual dance. A slight moan escaped from (Y/N) in response. She slid her hands up his back, running her fingers through his soft blonde hair. As a result, he groaned, and the urge to pull her hips against his grew. As much as he wanted to devour her, he had to resist.

The commander pulled away, only to realize that he wasn't the only one getting excited. The woman's body was filled with desire too. He watched her chest rise and fall hastily with each breath she took. He couldn't help but admire the beauty that was in front of him.

"You're gorgeous, (Y/N)." he held both of her hands and placed two gentle kisses on them "If we don't stop now, I won't be able to hold back. You're driving me crazy."

"I feel the same. I want you, Erwin."

Their lips met once again. The passion they felt had been buried in their hearts for years. The man possessed her lips claiming every centimetre of it while she held onto his strong shoulders tightly. Erwin guided her slowly to the writing table, not breaking the kiss even for a second. He lifted her up and placed her on the desk.

The commander's lips travelled down her neck and goose bumps flooded her skin tilting her head to the side. He tucked her blouse out of her skirt to slide his large hands under the fabric. When he touched her stomach, a sudden thought startled her. What if she's not good enough?

"Erwin... The candles..."

"I want to see you" he whispered in her ear.

"But..." she grasped his shoulder.

"No buts. You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen. No one can compete with you" the man kissed her cheek "Can I take your blouse off?"

She'd been deprived for far too long of this man who now was standing right in front of her. She nodded, and looked away in fear of what he would see might disgust him. Erwin took it off her and freed her breasts from the undergarment.

"Look at me, (Y/N)." he begged and with a bit of hesitation, she did so, finding his sparkling blue eyes, so full of love and excitement, staring down at her. Meeting his gaze, she smiled sweetly before closing her eyes as he inclined his head. He also pulled his hips tight against hers. "You did this to me, (Y/N)."

He laid her down gently on the wobbly desk and his mouth was on her breasts quicky, conquering all of it. His fiery tongue played with one of her nipples while the other was held in his hand. Next, he travelled lower and lower, down to her stomach, only to find the skirt in the way. She felt a sudden wetness between her legs.

"Can I?" he asked for permission. She nodded. She ached for it.

He removed the skirt and her shoes too. Erwin placed a kiss on her beauty through her panties before he pulled it off and trailed it down her leg. He kissed the hill again and ran two fingers down on it.

"You're soaking already, (Y/N)." then he started to explore her slit with his tongue "You're so sweet, my darling."

He sucked on the folds a little, then parted them to make his way up to her clit which he tickled wickedly. With a finger he began tracing circles around her entry. Shortly after, he slid it in. (Y/N) flinched a little, letting out a moan. After he realized she could take more, he added another one.

She enjoyed it greatly. She grabbed Erwin's head, ran her fingers through his soft hair while pulling him closer to her hips. She wanted more. Erwin was surprised by her action, and began to lick and move his fingers more passionately. Her body was burning in explicit heat. A sudden wave of extasy rushed through her and he was proud seeing his efforts paying off.

The man straightened up to hurriedly rip his shirt off and throw it on the floor. (Y/N) was mesmerized by his well- built form. She wanted to touch it, so she sat up to lean closer. She explored each muscle with her finger, even caressed his hard nipples. She travelled further down to his pants. Hearing the sharp intake of breath as her fingers lightly touched his sensitised flesh made her wanting Erwin even more.

"If you touch me like that I might..." Erwin's mouth left an excited hiss as she pulled down his trousers a little.

He stepped back to take it off along with his shoes as well. As he tugged down his underwear, his rock-hard, massive manhood revealed.

"Well..." she said in surprise "That is a titan."

He couldn't help but giggle. (Y/N) glanced up, seeing him smile at her with a sweet, sensuous smile. He stepped closer to possess her lips and lift her up from the desk just to then put her gently on the bed.

He was on top of her. The woman's breast against his chest while she wrapped her legs around his trim waist made him lose it all. He wanted to be inside her.

"(Y/N)" he sighed "Can I?"

"Yes, Erwin!"

He began to trace her entry in circular motions with his member. Softly, he placed the tip inside. She moaned in pain, feeling it tearing her walls.

"Are you alright, darling?" he asked with worry in his eyes.

"I'm okay. It's okay" she caressed his clean-shaved face. "Go on, my commander."

Their lips joined again, while he grabbed her hips and plunged deep inside her. He waited a little so she could get used to his size. A couple of minutes later, he began to move gently, sliding in and out gradually going further and speeding up the rhythm. As he heard her sweet moans, felt her warmness and tightness around him, he fell into an abyss of pleasure. Erwin couldn't tame his desire anymore, finding himself thrusting into her with an enormous intensity. He couldn't get himself to stop now. He wanted her.

Erwin grunted and groaned which she found immensely sexy. The pain already faded away, endless pleasure and joy replaced it. His thick hands made their way up to her breasts, grabbing it with more and more greed.

"I love you, Erwin" she cried out.

"I love you more."

Shameful sounds filled the room and the man increased his speed to the maximum. (Y/N) latched onto his shoulders and buried her head into his chest, trembling hard against him. A wave of pleasure started to hit them both. She tightened around his manhood, and he couldn't hold on any longer as she continued to clutch. The unbearable yet wonderful torture of being lost in her made him release his seed inside of her. It was an indescribable feeling being filled up by the man of his dreams. They remained like this for a while, panting heavily.

Erwin pulled out of her but didn't let go as he wrapped her arms around her.

"I'm sorry." he said, stroking her hair.

"For what?"

"For loving you so badly, that I lost myself and couldn't hold back."

"You're so silly." she chuckled "I enjoyed every minute of it."

"Can I clean you up?" he asked placing a gentle kiss on her forehead "I've made a mess down there"

She nodded and the commander put his underwear on. He brought a wet towel and sit back on the bed. He gently spread her legs to wipe her womanhood. Then he softly stretched her entry with his finger. Erwin blushed as he saw his liquid oozing out of her.

"Erwin?" she noticed the rosiness on his cheeks.

"Nothing..." he said looking away "I apologize."

"No need to." she sat up giving him a quick little kiss on his pink cheek "I love you!"

"I love you more, (Y/N)"

...

Morning came shining its warm, golden sunbeams. All the clouds were gone and she was in his arms, all his and he would never be so foolish to let her go. She opened her eyes, only to get lost in his sky-blue iris.

"Good morning, love!" he caressed her face.

"Morning, Erwin..." she yawned and quicky realized, that she should've been up a long time ago. "My god! I should be downstairs! What time is it? Oh! And I haven't even washed your clothes!"

"Shhh..." he stopped you from jumping out of the bed by hugging you from behind "No need to hurry. It's only six thirty."

"I wake up at five!"

"You're open at seven..."

"Yes, but there's work to do. Buying things from the market, breakfast to prepare, cleaning..." she counted on her fingers.

"It can wait. Just stay with me like this for five minutes"

"Then hold me tight, Erwin."

She couldn't resist him. She was lost in his alluring presence whenever she was with him. It was pure heaven to be in his loving arms.

The end

#erwin #erwin smith #erwin x reader #erwin x y/n #attack on titan #aot #snk #aot erwin #erwin smith fanfic #erwin smith oneshot #erwin smith x you #erwinsmith #shingeki no kyojin #commander erwin

115 notes · View notes

valeskakingdom · 4 years ago

Text

Request

Could I request a part 3? Jerome keeps the reader as his hostage for popularity and attention. Reader is really fond of the attention she gets as well and eventually sleeps with Jerome again? In the end she sees how Galavan kills him and is really sad?

Requested by @violentvaleska

So guys, here's part 5!!

Credit gif: @jokersbabe27

Jerome x female reader (part 5)

Warnings: mentions of violence and murder, depression

Word count: 3378

*Later that day at the charity*

"Already excited for my show, doll?" Jerome grinned through his magician costume. you hated that costume. It hid Jerome's beautiful face with a shitty beard, his hairs were under a stupid wig and a black cylinder. And that tuxedo...gosh, you hated it thought not as much as the wig or the fake beard. The worst on it was his name...'Rodolfo'. You were disgusted by that name.

No magician in that universe would ever call himself like that! It sounds so ridiculous!

"Of course! Though I already know you'll be amazing as always." You smirked pressing a kiss on his cheek "Give them the best show they've ever seen!"

"That ain't be a problem for me" Jerome grinned "Even Hundini wouldn't have seen such a great show." You giggled at his comment.

"Without further ado, please allow me to present you the Great Rodolfo!" Immediately, Jerome walked on stage, everyone was applauding - even you. You were excited for how he was acting as a magician. Of course, you knew he was doing it well anyway. Jerome was professional. He could play every role in this Earth perfectly!

"Ha! Greetings ladies and germs," Jerome walked on stage "I am indeed the Great Rodolfo! Please ogle my lovely assistant. Ohh, for my first act, I'll require a volunteer. Let me see. Duck, duck, duck, duck, duck, duck, duck, goose!" Jerome pointed at Bruce Wayne, the richest orphan in Gotham that was hated by every villain - really, everyone wanted to kill him.

"Hello, young man. Does this handsome gentleman have a name?" You heard Jerome saying after she went out to the crowd to bring him back.

"Bruce." The boy responded.

"Bruce! Well, Bruce. This won't hurt a bit." He clapped two great blades together "Is there a doctor in the house?"

Jerome sticked one of the blades in the box along with the other one. The audience gasped, them applauded him.

While watching you were astonished about Jerome's well, acting. Nobody noticed it was him. Neither Bruce nor the other guests recognized anything. Almost unbelievable for you.

"Some people say Bruce has a split personality." Jerome laughed loud while Barbara brought the little kid back to his actual place "For my next illusion, I'd like to call to the stage esteemed Deputy Major Harrison Kane."

Barbara pushed a rolling table, covered with a tarp, forward that it stood in front of Jerome. She pulled the tarp back and you could see any kind of knives laying down there. You were thinking about what was coming next. Is Jerome still playing with him or is he about to kill that guy?

Barbara bended down making the others noticed the next illusion was incoming. But a mistake happened, her mask fell down.

They're fucked!! You thought panicking. If anyone of the guests recognized them, they all would have a big problem. People would call the police, others die, the police finds you and eventually become informed about Theo, as well.

But Barbara kept being professional. Nobody made a move to start panicking or to call the police. Everything stayed normal.

"By the way, nobody is getting out here alive." At first the crowd laughed because they thought he was just joking - of course, he did not. Jerome killed the Deputy and the gunfire started. People were screaming and hiding in hope they weren't the next victim.

You flinched a little in surprise, although you might have expected it. Who would Jerome not kill expect you? He killed his mother, now the Deputy Major...it was just a matter of time to see who was his next victim.

For you, that all was pretty exciting, but also a big feeling of unpleasantness came over you. This situation reminded you of the day Jerome kidnapped you. You had flashbacks. You fear, you uncomfortableness, the nervousness, the wish to go home...everything came back - you knew best how the victims felt right now, and.

And as the last time, something told you that this situation wouldn't turn out well.

You wanted to be with Jerome right now. You just wanted to hug him, you wouldn't care whether he liked it or not, you just needed it.

But you couldn't go to him. You promised him to stay backstage to watch his marvellous show. And you knew, as everyone else knew what would happen if you broke the promise. His mood would change again and you needed to see whether it would turn out well for you or not.

You just stared at your lover. Finally he took the cylinder from his head as the wig, his black mask and the beard. Finally he presented himself again. You couldn't help but smile. You saw him being excited, being happy. He was the star in the show as he was the boss. You loved to see this: him standing there calm and managing everything while around him was pure chaos.

He was so professional you thought.

Out of nowhere, another woman was brought on stage, it was Lee Tompkins.

She was handhuffed, her gaze expressed fear and panicking.

They probably have taken her from behind as she was about to call the cops to tell what was going on.

You saw Jerome gazing at her with a smile - immediately, you hated her. You hated how you Jerome looked at her, how he smiled at her. It looked the same as every time he was smiling at you.

"Hey, darling" You felt shivers down your spine and jealousy came over you as he said that, you hated when Jerome was acting kinda flirty with other women. You always got the feeling they'd be much better than you but you also that your thoughts are wrong "I need to borrow your phone for a moment. We wanna tell Jimbo how the show's going on, don't we?"

And so he called him:

"Sorry Jimbo, it's just little old me!" He said nothing for a moment, then "Are you outside? You are, aren't you?" He cackled" Oh, goody!"

"Breathe, James. I haven't touched a hair on your girlfriend's pretty head." See for yourself. This is live television after all." You heard Jerome laughing after he responded to 'Jimbo'.

Then Jerome and Barbara tied Lee up on that big wheel pretending to shoot her head. It was all to entertain the crowd, to make them love. No one loved though - besides you. You loved their show. It entertained you and you loved to see your lover in action.

"True, but not the point. Hey, let's talk about what I want." Jerome walked down the stage closer to the camera "$47 million, a helicopter, obviously, the dry cleaning I left at Mr. Chang's be careful, the man is a crook, and mm, I don't know, a pony. Uh, you got ten minutes or I start killing people. Remember this is being broadcast to every home in Gotham, so, don't let people die. Bye!" Jerome laughed into the phone as he hung up "I think that went well." Jerome looked at you giving you a wink with a smile.

"Enough! You need to pack up your pathetic little sideshow and leave!" You suddenly heard Theo yelling from the other side of the stage. You were confused. What was he doing here? He told them to do this! Or did this still belong to the show?

"Is that right?" Jerome asked with a smirk.

"It may be presumptuous to speak for all citizens of Gotham. But we are sick of you! You're a small, vicious man with a pathetic need for attention. Enough man, for God's sake, enough!"

You were even more confused about Galavan's words. Something was in the bush. In his tower he spoke in high claims of Jerome that he was the star in the show, that he trusted Jerome most that he'll do it. What was wrong now?

"I'm curious what your leverage is here, Mr.?"

"Theo Galavan"

"Well, Mr. Theo Galavan, if you don't sit down, uh, I'm gonna shoot you. In your face."

"I know there is some human decency left in you. If you need a hostage, take me. But let these people go home! To their families, to their children." Before Theo could continue his speech, Barbara knocked him out with a some kind of pan. You giggled for yourself, almost laughed loud. It looked so stupid for you how he fell on the ground. It was like in a real blockbuster.

"Boring" Barbara stated.

"Right" Jerome cackled loudly, then he made his way to you with a big grin in his face. Automatically you grinned, too.

"How do you like the show doll?" Jerome grabbed your hands and pulled you close to him. You felt a slightly blush spreading over your cheeks as he pressed his lips against yours. His hands grabbed your cheeks softly to intense the kiss.

"I love it! It's very exciting" You grinned wrapping your arms around his neck while he wrapped his arms around your waist "But I'm much happier about you not wearing this cruel costume anymore. It covered your face, I hated it."

Jerome just chuckled about your comment and kissed your forehead.

"I have an idea," You just raised your brows looking at him in interest "Wanna be the star in my show?"

"Of course I do!" You smiled wide before he pressed his lips against yours quickly, then you both walked out. Gasps filled the room, all eyes were on you. They all knew who you were. You were the missed girl everyone was looking for. They either thought you were dead or that you were left at a lost place. But now you stood there - healthy, happy, self-confident.

"I know what you all think: That's (Y/n)! What is she doing here?! Where has she been?! I tell you all a secret: She was with me all the time." Jerome grabbed your face soft making you giggle "She's gorgeous, isn't she? Always has a pretty smile in her face."

Barbara pulled a next man up on stage positioning right in front of you and handed you a gun. Then she placed an apple on the man's bald.

"You know how to hold a gun, doll?" Jerome grinned wrapping his arms around you from behind. You felt his lips and his warm breathe touched your cheek. It was giving you chills in arousal.

"I'm not that stupid, Jerome." You made sure the gun was loaded. You positioned yourself to keep stable and pointed the gun at the apple. That was what Barbara and Tabitha have taught you over the days you were at Galavan's.

The man in front of you was shivering with wide eyes, his sweat was dripping down his forehead. His eyes expressed fear and you could see he wished you didn't kill him.

"Hold very still." Jerome growled at the man, then he covered his eyes with one hand "I can't look! Someone tell me how it turns out."

You inhaled deeply and concentrated on the apple. But as you pulled the trigger, just water came out and splashed into the old man's face. At that moment, you thought that Jerome jerked you around with tell you time the star.

Jerome just sighed in annoyance grabbing your gun and gave you a new one assuring you that he didn't know the gun was fake.

"Damn! Turn around." The man looked at you in fear and turned around. With his eyes he literally begged you not to shoot or at least to hit the apple. He was about to stop moving as you shot the apple from his head. The crowd gasps in shock and relief that the guy wasn't dead yet.

"Whoo!" Barbara cheered happily. You knew she was proud of you that you didn't blame yourself and missed the apple. You were proud of yourself, too. You shot without hesitation, not even thinking of missing the apple and accidentally shoot the guy.

Every one else kept quiet tho.

"Well, clap!" Jerome shouted kinda aggressively to the crowd - then they did it. Nervously and fast. He laughed slightly pressing a kiss on your cheek "Well done, doll."

"Thank you, Jerome." You grinned. He took the gun out of your hands and placed it on the table with the knives. Then he kept staring at them for a while, you could see he was thinking about something.

"Do you know how to use a knife? Just wondering." Jerome smiled at you.

Before you could answer though, you saw Lee kicked Barbara in the stomach making her grunt.

As Barbara looked up at Lee, you could see fury was written in her face. She was angry, mad...these words just described a very small part of her feeling. It was incredible how much hate a person could express.

You looked at Lee. You could see she didn't give a fuck about her consequences.

"Haven't been ten minutes," Jerome hissed holding Barbara's arm tight that she was unable to stab Lee "We need to buy you a watch." Soon as Jerome turned around back to you Barbara punched Lee in her face. The crowd and you all gasped in surprise. Jerome instead, just looked at you shaking his head in disappointment what made you chuckle.

"Well, I think it's time for tonight's first official victim. You all know and love. Poor rich boy...Parents murdered in an alley, and my favorite volunteer: Where is Bruce Wayne?" Jerome claimed waiting for the little boy's appearance - he didn't come though. Everyone looked around for the boy hoping he would come. They, as you, knew what would happen if he did - someone will die.

"You know, I'm an orphan, too, Bruce? I killed my parents, though." Jerome spoke to the microphone, then stepped away from it "Where are you hiding?"

"Bruce!" Jerome screamed in anger making you flinch a little - you were always surprised about his temper. It came rapidly and was gone after a few seconds "Where are you buddy?!"

"That little kid's afraid of you, Jerome." You giggled wrapping your arms around his torso kinda in hope to calm him down a little. You had no idea his temper could ride that fast. "Give that boy some time to realize how much fun he's gonna have with you."

"We don't have time, right now. We have a plan to follow." Jerome grumbled looking around for Bruce and slightly pushing you away from him. In your eyes, Jerome was a mix of an infant and a monster or the evil itself. His impatience reminded you of a child that didn't get his will. And his eye expression expressed fury, evil and the strong wish to kill the kid. It was fascinating, and almost frightening.

"Kill his butler!"" Barbara suggested.

"Alright, last chance Bruce but it's about to get very butler-brainy out here." Jeromekept looking around. While that, some of Jerome's colleagues grabbed the butler's arms right pushing him forward to Jerome. He was an older tall man in a black tuxedo looking very concerned for the little boy - understandable.

"Brucey!" Jerome yelled looking through the crowd but the boy still didn't appear "I'm bored. Shoot the butler." Jerome turned to you with a grin, not even really paying attention to what was happening around him. He just wanted you.

"Stop!" Bruce claimed panicking and ran fast in front of the stage to his poor butler.

"Let's get this started, huh?" Jerome gasped pulling Bruce back while pointing a gun at his head "You! Check behind the curtain! Make sure no one's playing silly buggers"

One of Jerome's colleagues nodded and walked to the curtain. He moved it aside the entrance, he got shot.

"Drop the knife!" James Gordon shouted pointing a gun at Jerome, but he just laughed and pressed the young Bruce Wayne in front of his body, a sharp blade was pressed on his throat almost cutting his thin skin.

"I don't have a clean shot!" Gordon shouted.

"Stay calm, Bruce." The butler tried to encourage the little boy after he took a gun, as well, pointing it at Jerome. He totally ignored what Gordon said. His mind was all around Bruce.

"It seems like we've got ourselves a pickle." Jerome stopped laughing but pressing a knife against Bruce's throat. "What do you say Brucey boy? Wanna boost our ratings, huh?" Jerome cackled insanely again "Smile."

"I said enough!" All of a sudden Theo appeared behind Jerome. He looked mad, very mad. Again you got that feeling of uncomfortableness. And again you got that feeling that something bad will happen now. You saw it on his gaze. This devilish grin. Something was in the bush.

And you weren't wrong. Shortly after Jerome turned to him slowly, Theo stabbed a knife into his neck.

Everyone gasped in shock, you were the loudest though. You heart dropped, you couldn't move for the moment, your legs became weak, cat got your tongue - you weren't able to breathe normal. You felt poor as you stared at Theo's hand that pressed the knife in Jerome's throat deeper and deeper - and that all right in front of you. Your whole body shivered, you were about to throw up every minute.

Tears built up in your eyes and some even streamed down your cheeks. This couldn't be real, this mustn't be real! You couldn't loose him, not now, not again, not forever.

Things have happened not quite perfect and you were mad at him, you didn't want to be with him, you even hated him for a moment, you were afraid of him... everything. You could say for one moment he was your biggest fear in your life because you were scared he'd kill you every minute, or every time you did something wrong. But that faded, it was forgiven, your love was refreshed. It was stronger than the night you two met for the first time. Your connection was stronger than ever before - you knew you belonged together. Why else did fate decide to let you two meet again? Why else would you fall for him again? Why else did he all you his doll, his girl, his queen? That weren't just words...it was more, a lot more.

You knew Jerome couldn't show love as usual people did, but you knew he loved you. His soft side towards you, him trying to make you smile, him protecting you when Greenwood teased you or harassed you..,that was all real. He didn't act at all!

All the memories came up. His smile, how you two hold a conversation for the first time at the circus, you felt the warmth on you hand again when you remembered how he held your hand. You could feel his arms wrapping around your body, and you could hear him calling you 'doll'.

And all this was gone forever now.

"I know, I know." He pressed Jerome down to the ground "Im so sorry, Jerome. You have real talent. But now you see, the plot thickens. Enter the hero." You saw Theo grinning slightly.

You could kill him for what he has done to him - and to you. He took all your joy away, he ripped your heart in two and three it away that it shattered in thousands of pieces. He had to die in your eyes. He just deserved it. You wanted revenge. You wanted to make him feel what he has done to you. You wanted to make him feel how you felt - sad, broken, shocked.

"I was gonna be.." With his last breath and his last courage, he looked up to you still having a grin in his face. His mouth opened shortly as if he was about to say something to you, but too late.

He was dead - dead as your happiness, your joy, you will to live. Your heart felt so heavy that every beating was exhausting you, as your breathing. The world was spinning around you. You body and your psyche couldn't handle what has happened just a few seconds in front of you.

He died, your love, your everything - your Jerome. And he will never come back.

And you died - inside.

64 notes · View notes