#aNYWAY sorry. i swear this not meant to be like an attack. but it Did feel like you totally missed my point

[tortillamastersblog]

Back To You - Part 6 | Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, death, blood, injuries, and swearing

Summary: When Sam left after turning eighteen, you were devastated. You’d been in love with her since you were kids and her leaving meant you never got to tell her how you truly felt.

Fast forward a couple of years, Tara gets attacked and Sam returns. . .

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Getting the doctors to release me was a hell of a lot harder than I imagined. They tried to convince me to stay since I lost a lot of blood and underwent a serious surgery less than twenty four hours ago, but I was persistent and they finally handed me some discharge papers.

Now, discharge papers signed and my bag slung over my shoulder, I’m limping down the hall to Tara’s room where Sam and Richie are helping Tara get ready to leave as well.

The hospital offered me a wheelchair or some crutches, but I refused both. Tara’s going to be in a wheelchair and two of them would be just too much. Crouches would also only get in the way, and they wouldn’t be very useful anyway since I can’t use them properly because of the sling my left arm is in.

They did give me a brace for my knee though to stabilize it and make sure I don’t move too much while it heals.

“Y/N!” Tara’s eyes light up when I enter her room and Sam has to put a hand on her shoulder to stop her from getting out of her wheelchair to greet me.

I smile weakly and cross the room to take her hand when she reaches for me. “Hey, Sprout,” I say quietly, bending down slightly. “How are you feeling?”

“High,” she replies with a loopy smile before turning serious as her eyes roam over me. “You? You look like shit.”

I scoff playfully and grimace when it makes my side sting. “Been better, but I’ll be fine.”

She looks unconvinced, but squeezes my hand. “Okay.”

I squeeze back and press a kiss to the top of her head before letting go and straightening back up with a not so hidden wince. Sam is watching us with a wistful look and when our eyes meet she smiles a tiny bit.

She goes to say something, but just like so many times before, Richie interrupts her. It’s unknowingly because he has his back turned to us while he zips up Tara’s bag, but it’s an interruption nonetheless.

“Alright, that was everything. Let’s get out of here.” He turns and slings the bag over his shoulder, kindly offering to take my bag too.

“No, that’s okay,” I say, “Thank you.” I don’t like him and even after everything that’s happened, I don’t trust him. Apparently so much so, that I’d rather be in pain carrying my bag than give it to him.

“Okay then, let’s go,” Sam says. She makes sure Tara is comfortable and warm enough in her pink fur jacket before wheeling her out of the room while Tara holds onto the crutches the doctors gave her.

Richie follows them and I follow after him, glancing back once more to make sure nothing important was left behind.

When we get to the lobby, I’m not surprised to see Gale Weathers and Sidney Prescott sitting in one of the hospital’s waiting areas. Every time a new Ghostface shows up, the two of them show up as well.

They get up as soon as they see us and while Sidney steps up to Sam, Gale rushes over to me, pulling me into a hug.

The two of us were never as close as I was with Dewey, but before my parents died and she and Dewey separated, she was a fairly important person in my life.

“Thank God you’re okay,” she whispers shakily, clutching at my shirt.

“I’m sorry, Gale,” I say, hugging her back as best as I can with one arm. “About Dewey. . . I tried to go back, but—“

“I know.” She pulls back and briefly cups my face with her hands. “There’s nothing you could have done to save him.” Her eyes fill with tears, but she doesn’t cry.

I swallow thickly. “He saved us.”

She nods and smiles sadly. “That’s what he did— always saving people. . .”

I exhale shakily and nod as well. It’s true, Dewey always saved people whether it was from something, someone, or themselves. It’s a shame that, in the end, he couldn’t save himself.

“You’re Billy’s daughter.”

I tense and take a step away from Gale to stare at Sidney. She and Sam were just having their own little conversation and I wasn’t listening because I was focusing on Gale, but now I’m definitely listening.

Sam’s chest heaves and she blankly stares at Sidney for a moment before Richie speaks up.

“Uh. We’ll bring the car around,” he says, looking uncomfortable as his eyes dart back and forth between Sam and Sidney. Then he looks at me and Tara, expectantly, but I’m definitely not going to just leave Sam alone.

I also don’t want Tara to be alone with Richie, so I shake my head and grab the back of her wheelchair. “No, we’re not, but we’ll give you some space,” I say. I tilt my head to the side and motion for Richie to follow me when I push Tara towards one of the couches nearby.

It takes a lot of effort to move her because I only have one function arm and an injured leg, but I manage without asking for help.

He follows without complaining, but when his eyes meet mine after he stops watching Sam and Sidney, his face hardens.

“What was that?” he asks impatiently, throwing his hands up.

I lean against the arm of the couch while keeping my hand on the back of Tara’s wheelchair. “What was what?” I shoot back.

“Why did you humiliate me like that in front of Sam?” he hisses which makes me scoff.

“Humiliate you?” I shift to take some more weight off my injured leg. “I didn’t humiliate you. I just didn’t want Sam to be alone with those two.” I gesture at Sidney and Gale. “Besides, we’re not taking her car. We’re taking mine and I’m not letting you drive.”

Sam and I agreed it would be better if we took my car earlier when we talked about leaving. It’s an old Bronco that my mom and I restored when I was younger and it’s way bigger than Sam’s Prius which makes it easier for Tara and me to sit comfortably with our injured legs.

“Why not? I can drive,” he defends and I’m quick to shake my head again.

“I’m sure you can, but I don’t want you to. No one gets to drive my car except me.”

Richie crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow, looking me up and down with a snarl. “Oh yeah, and how are you planning on doing that.”

Shit. I didn’t think that far ahead. He’s right, I can’t drive in the state I’m in. I need both legs and hands for the clutch and the gear shift.

Before I can think of a retort though, Tara pipes up, her voice even as her eyes cautiously dart back and forth between Richie and me. “Maybe Sam could drive?”

I feel myself soften and look at her. She’s got a point.

“I mean, you did teach her how to drive when you were younger, right?” she asks and I nod.

As soon as my mom and I finished restoring the car, I forced Sam to learn how to drive it. We were both sixteen at the time and she complained at first since she thought it was unnecessary because she never planned on owning a manual car, but once she got the hang of it she actually enjoyed it and we’d sometimes just drive around the city at night, listening to music.

“Yeah.” I sigh. I really don’t have a different choice here. Either Sam drives, or Richie, and between the two of them, Sam’s the obvious choice.

“Good. It’s settled then,” Tara decides.

Richie glares daggers at me and I glare right back, but neither of us objects and a moment later, Sam comes over with tense shoulders and furrowed eyebrows.

“We’re leaving,” she states, oblivious to the tension between Richie and me. “Come on.”

She moves to grab the handles of Tara’s wheelchair, but I stop her, pushing myself off the couch to tug on the sleeve of her green jacket.

“Wait.”

She stops and looks at me expectantly. “What?”

Tara and Richie watch us curiously and when I catch the way the muscle in Richie’s jaw twitches, I pull her aside and bend down so only she can hear me.

“I think we should leave without Richie,” I say lowly, ignoring the way Sam’s breathing hitches when my nose brushes against her temple.

“What? Why?” She pulls back abruptly but keeps her voice low so the others don’t hear us.

“I don’t know, I just have a weird feeling about him,” I say honestly.

Sam stares at me, bewildered, and hisses, “What are you talking about? He’s been nothing but helpful and may I remind you that he almost got killed saving you and Tara?”

Impatience washed over me, but I do my best not to let it show. “Yeah, but that’s just it,” I say urgently. “Ghostface had the chance to kill him twice, but he didn’t!”

The first time was right after I punched Richie when he came into the room Tara and I were hiding in. Ghostface could have done so much more than just cut his arm, but for some reason he didn’t. And then the second time when Ghostface attacked Dewey. . . Richie was on the ground, helpless, but for some reason, all Ghostface did was go after Dewey.

Sam’s bewilderment turns into anger and she takes a step back to put more distance between us. “Are you kidding me? That’s your reasoning? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?“

“I do! But something seems off and—“

“No.” Sam lifts her hand, effectively cutting me off.“We’re not arguing about this. Richie’s coming with us and that’s final.”

“No, it’s not, and no, he isn’t!” I argue, no longer caring about keeping my voice down. “I promised Tara I’d keep her safe, and I don’t trust him, so he’s not coming.”

I can tell Sam is about ready to explode, but instead of snapping, she takes a steadying breath and calmly says, “Tara is my sister, Y/N, not yours, so what I say goes. Richie is coming with us and if you have a problem with that, you can just stay here.”

I actually flinch at that and recoil as though she just slapped me. She might as well have with how much her words hurt. “I. . . Wow. That’s— That was a low blow.”

Tara’s been the only person I think of as family ever since my parents died and the implication that I’m nothing to her makes me physically weak.

Sam falters slightly, and a hint of regret flickers across her face, but she’s quick to square her shoulders and stand her ground. “Well, it’s true, so it’s up to you. Come with us, or stay. Either way, we’re leaving now.”

I debate it for a moment, hating how she’s backed me into a corner, but then I feel Tara’s eyes on me, and sigh. “Fine. Let’s go.”

I promised her I’d stay and make sure she’s safe until all of this is over, so I guess I’ll just have to deal with Richie for a little while longer.

I take my car keys and shove them into Sam’s hands before limping past her.

“Is everything okay?” Tara asks, tugging on my shirt as soon as I’m within reach and I nod, trying my best to ignore the smug smile on Richie’s face.

“Everything’s fine. Let’s just go.” I pat her head playfully and readjust the strap of my bag on my shoulder. Then, I turn on the spot and lead the way outside to my car in the parking lot.

We’ve been on the road for only ten minutes at this point, but I’m already fed up with the whole situation. Not only because of Richie’s presence and the lingering tension between Sam and me, but also because I don’t like that we’re going to Modesto. Ghostface is just going to keep on coming after us, but we literally have nowhere else to go.

“You good back there?” Sam asks after a while when Tara pushes off my shoulder and starts rummaging through her bag.

Tara shakes her head, now searching frantically for whatever it is she’s looking for. “Fuck, where is it?”

I frown and put a hand on her arm. “Where’s what?”

Sam watches us through the rear view mirror and Richie turns in the passenger seat.

“My inhaler,” Tara gasps, her breathing shallow. “You brought it to the hospital and I— I had it just before we left. I must have forgotten it.”

My frown deepens. I double checked her room before we left, and I didn’t see her inhaler, so she can’t have forgotten it.

“Should we go back?” Sam asks but before Tara can answer, Richie beats her to it.

“Woah, okay. I vote for not going back to the murder hospital.”

Okay that’s it. I can’t take it anymore. Even though I agree with him, I’ve had enough of his attitude.

“Nobody asked you!” I snap which makes Sam’s eyes snap to me in the mirror.

“Y/N!”

“What?!” I fire back.

Richie scowls and I just know things are about to get ugly again, but then Tara gasps for air and I immediately redirect my attention, asking, “Do you want to stop at a pharmacy?”

This isn’t the time to argue, Y/N!

Tara shakes her head and continues going through her bag. “I need a prescription, but I left an extra one at Amber’s. Her house is on the way.”

I nod and rub my hand up and down her back. “Okay then. We’ll stop and—“

“No, no. No, no, no!” Richie protests and I have half a mind to strangle him from behind with the strap of my bag.

Honestly, how can Sam like this guy?!

“I’d be in and out,” Tara pleads, her chest heaving as she takes labored breaths.

Sam glances at us through the rearview mirror, worry written all over her face as she asks, “You think you could hold out ‘til Modesto?”

Tara grabs my hand and squeezes it to calm herself down. “I don’t think so.”

Sam looks back at the road, and for a moment the sound of the engine is the only thing breaking the silence that settles over us. “Okay. . .” She nods and takes a deep breath. “Okay, what’s the address?”

“123 No-Fucking-Way-Lane,” Richie says before Tara can answer and even though I just reminded myself this isn’t the time to argue, I can’t help but snap at him again.

“Oh my fucking God. Tara needs her inhaler and we’re going to get it, so will you just shut it for once?!”

Richie’s eyes widen and he looks at Sam, probably waiting for her to scold me agin, but this time, she actually agrees with me which makes him protest weakly.

It does nothing to change her mind though and before long we’re pulling up outside Amber’s house where a party is in full swing.

“Oh perfect.” Richie groans. “She’s having a party. Who has a party in the middle of a killing spree?”

I grit my teeth, getting irritated by just the sound of his voice even though I agree with him.

“Look,” he continues. “We should leave. It’s too risky.”

Tara looks at me, worried, but Sam is quick to shut him down before I even get the chance to open my mouth. “No, no, we’re already here. I’ll go in quickly and get it. I’ll be back in five.”

She takes the keys out of the ignition and gets out of the car, only to stop a second later when Tara unbuckles her seatbelt and shouts, “Wait, I’m coming too.”

Wherever she goes, I go, so even though I’m in no mood to walk into that party, I unbuckle myself too and say, “Me too, hold on. I’ll help you out of the car.”

Richie mumbles something about not staying out here alone as he gets out of the car as well, but I don’t pay him much attention as I help Tara with her crutches.

Sam is quick to help as well and before long we all make our way inside the house.

The smell of alcohol is almost overwhelming and the noise level is through the roof, but I know we won’t be here for long, so I’ll just deal with it.

“Tara!” A bunch of people cheer when they spot us which makes Tara shrink in on herself. She looks so small and scared, clinging to her crutches, so I place a reassuring hand on her back and smile comfortingly when she glances up at me.

I’m here, I mouth, and when I look up I’m not surprised to find Sam once again watching us with a wistful look.

I kind of feel bad for her because even though she’s back, Tara turns to me for comfort, but I guess it just goes to show that she is like my sister too even though we’re not actually related.

“Hey! What are you doing out of the hospital?” I turn my head at Amber’s familiar voice and step back so she can hug Tara. She looks her up and down with furrow eyebrows and asks what we’re doing here, so Tara tells her about needing her spare inhaler.

That makes her furrow her eyebrows even more and she asks why she needs it and when Tara tells her we’re leaving town, she asks where we’re going.

“Doesn’t matter,” I say before Tara can tell her. The less people the better.

Amber looks at me with an unreadable expression for a split second before giving in with a sympathetic smile. “Okay. No, it’s fine. Don’t tell me. I get it.” She turns back to Tara and brushes a strand of hair off her forehead. “Just be safe, okay?”

Tara melts under the touch and I’m pretty sure I see her cheeks turn pink for a second, but there’s no time to dwell on that now.

When all this is over I’m going to tease the shit out of her though.

Who knew? Tara and Amber. . .

“I think it’s in my room,” Amber says softly before turning and addressing the crowd over the loud music. “Alright everyone, thanks for coming, but the party’s over!

A chorus of complaints erupts and Amber shouts, “Time to go!” But the crows still doesn’t listen.

Sam’s eyes meet mine and I just shrug, so she turns to Richie and mouths something.

He lifts an eyebrow for a second, clearly not understanding what she wants, but then it clicks and he springs into action. He turns on all the lights and asks for the music to be turned off before awkwardly addressing the crowd, telling them to leave.

Like Amber’s though, his efforts to clear out the house aren’t well received and I can’t help but smirk when one guy throws a solo cup at his head, saying “Fuck you.”

“Okay, I’ve tried to be nice.” He’s mad now and I can see a vein pulsing in his forehead when he sees the amusement on my face. “Get the fuck out!”

Reluctantly, people start filing out, throwing dirty looks Richie’s way until, eventually, everyone’s gone.

It’s a relief and I feel like I can breathe properly again, moving further into the house and taking in the decorations and pictures on the walls while Tara and Amber wander off to get Tara’s inhaler.

Sam stays with me, typing something on her phone while Richie goes to the living room, making sure everyone did in fact leave.

Minutes go by and the longer we stay, the more antsy I get. I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all. We should be on the road again. Every second we stay here gives Ghostface a chance to catch up with us if he isn’t already here, that is.

I glance at Sam and she seems to think the same thing because she keeps checking the time on her phone while chewing on her bottom lip.

It’s something she’s always done and I have the urge to reach over and tug her lip free, but I don’t, mentally cursing myself for even thinking about it.

She’s not mine. I have no right. She’s with Richie and we haven’t seen each other in five years.

Back when we were younger, I wouldn’t even have hesitated, but things have changed, we have changed, and I can’t just do stuff like that anymore.

Feeling my eyes on her, Sam looks up and I’m quick to look away, clearing my throat softly.

How does she still have this hold over me?

“What could possibly be taking so long?” I ask in an attempt to distract from being caught staring.

“I don’t know,” she whispers and when I dare to meet her eyes again, I’m surprised to find her already looking at me with an unreadable expression. “But I don’t like it.”

We stare at each other for a moment, so many unspoken words and feelings between us until she looks away, scratching her neck. She checks the time on her phone again and sighs.

“We should go,” she says and I agree, following her back into the foyer where she shouts up the stairs. “Tara, we’re leaving!”

There’s no reply and I feel worry creeping into the pit of my stomach, but before either of us gets to call out again, Sam’s phone rings.

I watch her look at the screen with pursed lips and move a little closer to see that it says Maybe: Sidney Prescott under Unknown Caller.

We share a worried look and I gesture for her to answer it which, after a moment of hesitation, she does. “Hello?”

I can’t make out what the other person is saying, so I step even closer.

“How do you know where I am?” Sam asks when the person on the other end of the line, a woman, probably Sidney, tells us to get out of the house.

Her question though never gets answered because Sidney just tells her to get out of the house again because as it turns out, we’re in Stu Macher’s old house.

I don’t know much about the Stab movies, but I’m familiar with the original story and I know Stu Macher was one of the original Ghostface killers.

My stomach drops and I suddenly feel sick, my eyes meeting Sam’s who is just as horrified as I am.

This is a trap. . .

Not even a second later there’s a sharp thud and a scream and when I realize it’s Mindy, my blood runs cold.

I don’t think when I spring into action. I just run toward the living room where the scream came from as fast as I can.

A burning pain shoots up and down the back of my leg, but I push through it, panting and limping.

Mindy. Just get to Mindy! Ghostface is here.

Sam is hot on my heels and when we reach the living room, the sight that greets us makes my heart drop.

Ghostface is standing over Mindy, trying to stab her, but Mindy’s got her hands on his wrists, keeping the knife away from her.

She’s covered in blood and trembling, having been stabbed in the shoulder where I was stabbed too, and with every passing second, her strength seems to be dwindling.

We have to do something!

My eyes get caught on the lamp on the dresser right next to us, and I nudge Sam before pushing it toward her.

I can’t pick it up and throw it with just one hand, and there isn’t enough time for me to get the sling off, so she’ll have to do it.

She instantly knows what I’m want and picks it up, hurling it at Ghostface’s back without second thought.

The ceramic bottom part of the lamp explodes upon impact with Ghostface’s back and I just know getting hit by it hurts.

Good. He deserves everything that’s coming for him.

Ghostface almost topples over, but he catches himself just in time before spinning around with his knife still in hand.

Fuck. He’s going to come for us now.

I didn’t think this far ahead when I thought of throwing the lamp.

My heartbeat pounds in my ears and when Ghostface takes a step in our direction, I’m quick to grab anything within reach that could be used as a weapon which turns out to be a metal candlestick.

Sam tries to take it from me, probably thinking she’s better suited to fight than me, but I tighten my grip on it and shrug her off, stepping in front of her.

If Ghostface wants to get to her, he’ll have to go through me first.

I grit my teeth, feeling my hands shake, ready to strike, but not even a second later, Ghostface just bails, running out of the room into an adjacent hallway.

What the—?

I share a bewildered look with Sam, but then Mindy gasps and Sam rushes to her side.

I follow her, but keep my eyes on the hallway Ghostface vanished into in case he comes back.

“Mindy? No, Mindy, stay with me,” Sam pleads, pushing her hands down on Mindy’s shoulder where she was stabbed.

There’s a lot of blood and the smell of it makes me queasy. I never liked the sight or smell of blood, but my discomfort with it never went so far that I passed out because of it.

Sam desperately looks at me for help, but then Amber’s scream cuts through the air and we both whip our heads around to find her standing in the doorway with Tara.

“What did you do to her?” she screams and rushes over.

“God, Mindy.” Tara follows with shock written all over her face and when it registeres what Amber just said I can’t help but defend Sam

“It wasn’t her!”

“The killer— He—“ Sam stutters, but she’s cut off by the sound of a glass bottle shattering on the floor.

I spin around with the candlestick raised in hand, instinctively moving in front of both Tara and Sam, only to lower it a second later when I realize it’s just Richie.

“What the fuck?” he mutters in shock, his eyes glued to Mindy.

“Richie, where the fuck were you?” Sam exclaims, her blood covered hands shaking.

“I just went into the basement to get some beer,” he rambles and I stare at him in disbelief while my instincts scream at me not to trust a single word he’s saying.

I don’t voice my doubt though because Amber beats me to it. She’s got a hand on Tara’s shoulder and looks at him with a mixture of disbelief and disgust. “You went to the basement alone?”

Richie raises his shoulders and gestures at Mindy, stammering, “I asked her to come with me! She said no!”

For a moment, a tense silence settles over us, but then a door nearby slams open, startling everyone.

Yet again, I raise the candlestick, ready to fight, but it turns out to be just Liv, Chad’s girlfriend. She stumbles into the room, pale and wide eyed.

Amber immediately raises her hands to keep her at bay and says, “Stay the fuck back.”

But Liv is so out of it, she doesn’t even react to it. She just cries and whimpers, “Jesus Christ. . .”

“I was with Tara, but the rest of you were wandering around,” Amber says, breathing heavily and pointing a finger at all of us while Tara just stands next to her, wide-eyed. “One of you is the fucking killer!”

Liv continues crying, her voice breaking when she says, “Fuck you, Amber. Fuck you!”

“Why is there blood on your hands?” Sam asks which makes everyone look at Liv’s hands.

Her hands are covered in blood, but Liv seems not to have known until Sam just pointed it out because she stares at her hands as well, letting out a sob when she sees the blood.

“I found Chad— I found Chad and he’s outside—“ she stammers, her voice faltering.

I have to admit, I don’t know her all that well, but my gut is telling me she’s telling the truth. No matter how psychotic you are, you can’t fake this kind of distress.

“Chad?” I cut her off, confused and worried, but before I can ask anything else Amber says, “You’re fucking lying.”

“No.” Liv whimpers, but Richie doubles down on Amber’s statement.

“You’re the killer.”

No she’s not.

“No, I’m not,” Liv cries, getting into a screaming match with Amber who keeps telling her to just stop lying.

“Fuck you, Amber! I’m not the fucking killer!” Liv says through gritted teeth and I have to admit that Amber’s insistence is setting off alarm bells in my head.

When she actually agrees with Liv a moment later though, pulling out a gun and shooting her in the head in cold blood, I’m as shocked as everyone else.

I drop the candlestick and let out a strangled cry as Liv sags to the floor with blood streaming down her face.

A hand grabs mine from behind, but I have no time to turn around and see who it is when Amber suddenly turns and points the gun at Richie who’s standing right next to me.

“Welcome to act three,” she says with a sinister smile and Richie shouts, “Run!” just as she fires the gun, missing him by a couple of inches because Tara pushes her arm up from behind.

The gun gets fired again and the hand holding mine lets go, and when I look over my shoulder I realize that it was Sam’s. Despite her protests, she gets pulled out of the room by Richie and I quickly turn back around, tackling Amber to the ground just as she aims the gun at Tara.

“No!”

Not Tara. Not after everything.

We struggle on the ground and even though I normally would have had an advantage over her because I’m taller and stronger, Amber quickly gains the upper hand by punching me in the side right where I was stabbed.

If it wasn’t clear before that she’s Ghostface, it definitely is now because how else would she know about that weak spot.

I yelp and fall off her, and the last thing I see before she slams the butt of the gun into my face is Tara’s tear-streaked face.

I groan when I regain consciousness, and I immediately look around frantically, not knowing how much time has passed since I was knocked out.

Why am I not dead?

My entire face hurts and I’m pretty sure my nose is broken, but other than that, I’m fine. Well, I am still injured from the previous attacks, but I don’t have any new injuries besides the broken nose.

I’m still in the living room and when I look down I see that my sling has been removed and that both my hands and feet have been tied up with duct tape.

Shit.

Where’s Tara? Where’s Sam?

Adrenaline surges through me and I feel panic growing in my chest, but then my dad’s voice in the back of my mind reminds me to stay calm.

Panicking won’t do anyone any good. I need a plan. . .

First, I have to free myself. I take a deep breath and close my eyes for a moment, thinking.

It’s eerily quiet and it’s hard to focus, but then my eyes fly open and I spot the shards of the lamp Sam threw at Ghostface.

I drag myself across the floor, wincing in pain until I get to them. I pick one up and quickly saw at the duct tape around my ankles until they’re free.

Then I use my feet to hold the shard in place before getting to work on my hands.

It’s a little more difficult to free them because the shard keeps slipping out from between my feet, but I manage to free myself eventually just as a gunshot rings out somewhere in the house.

It’s followed by unintelligible shouting and I pull myself to my feet.

I have to help. Sam. . . Tara . . .

I don’t even consider the possibility that something could have happened to either of them while I was out because they just can’t be hurt, or worse, dead. They just can’t be!

I limp to the foyer where the shouting is coming from and press a hand against my stinging side. “Fuck you, Amber,” I growl underneath my breath, freezing a moment later at the sight that greets me when I get to the front door.

Ghostface, who I now know is Amber, and Sidney Prescott are lying on the floor, winded and clambering to get to a gun on the floor while Richie is limping down the stairs.

“Richie!” Sidney groans. “Gun. Get the gun!”

“Yeah, kind of hard since you shot me in the leg,” he bickers, one hand gripping the banister while the other is clutching at his thigh.

Tara and Sam are nowhere to be seen and I’m about to make a run for the gun, but then Richie stumbles slightly and my eyes get drawn to something that slips out of his pocket.

It’s small, and orange, and clatters on the wooden stairs.

Tara’s inhaler.

No. . . I knew she didn’t leave it behind. . .

Richie took it!

He’s in on everything.

He planned this.

He wanted us to come here.

He and Amber are working together!

There are two Ghostfaces. . .

I don’t know how I didn’t realize it sooner.

The Ghostface that attacked Mindy was taller than the one in the hospital and at the Carpenter’s because of course, Richie is taller than Amber and they’ve been taking turns wearing the mask to divert suspicion.

But why?!

A blur of brown hair makes my head snap to the side and when my eyes land on Sam at the bottom of the stairs, picking up the gun, my heart skips a beat.

“Yes! Yes!” Richie shouts, pretending to be glad she got the gun before Ghostface.

Sam has no idea. He’s almost down the stairs. He’s going to get to her.

“Shoot him!” Sidney groans but Sam hesitates. She reaches out for Richie to pull him behind her when he finally makes it to the bottom of the stairs.

“No, Sam! Look out!” I yell, rushing forward, but I’m too late.

Richie stabs her in the side while she’s focused on me and when I stumble forward to help her, Richie just kicks against the side of my injured leg, making me cry out in pain and fall against the wall while he drives the knife further into Sam’s stomach and takes the gun from her.

Wide-eyed, Sam looks at Richie and the betrayal and heartbreak on her face makes me physically sick. I try to push off the wall to help her, but my leg gives out underneath me and I slam back against it.

“Thank God you’re okay,” Richie says, a disgustingly smug smile pulling at his lips, “Because I really wanted to be the one to kill you.”

I push off the wall again, rage cursing through me at the pained whimper that leaves Sam, and this time, I manage to stay on my feet. I don’t get far though because Richie points the gun at both me and Sidney who’s just starting to get off the floor. “Sit the fuck down, Prescott! And you”— his manic eyes land on me—“stay back, or I’ll shoot you right now! You’ve been a pain in my ass ever since I met you. It’s a shame Amber hasn’t managed to kill you yet, but don’t worry, you’re time will come.”

I clench my jaw and shake with fury when all I can do is watch helplessly as he twists the knife in Sam’s stomach, making her scream in pain.

“Stop! You sick fuck! What the fuck is wrong with you!” I shout.

Sam sinks to her knees, and Richie goes down with her, completely ignoring me as he hands the gun over to Amber who just took off the Ghostface mask.

The pained grimace on Sam’s face makes me want to do something, anything to help her, but I can’t. If I move, Amber will shoot me and I’m of no help when I’m dead.

“I can’t believe this worked,” Richie says reaching for something in his pocket, probably the inhaler. He frowns when he realizes it’s not there but Sam’s already spotted it on the stairs, knowing exactly what he’s trying to get at.

She’s shaking in pain and disbelief and Richie just tilts his head and smiles, feigning sympathy. “I know. It’s a bummer it’s me”—he reaches for his pocket again and pulls out a little gray device, a voice changer, I realize as he holds it up to his mouth —“But it really was the best choice for the movie.”

A movie?! What the fuck? This is why they’re doing this?

He chuckles gleefully, the voice changer distorting his voice eerily.

No. . . All this pain, all this fear and suffering. . . For a lousy movie?

I didn’t like him before, maybe because I was jealous, maybe because my gut was telling me something was off about him, or maybe both, who knows, but now I straight up hate him.

How could he do this? How could they do this?

Sam trusted Richie as much as Tara trusted Amber, and they just went behind their backs like it was nothing.

“This isn’t a fucking movie!” Sam exclaims angrily, getting over the initial shock of the betrayal and voicing my exact thoughts.

Richie just smiles that stupid smile of his again and shakes his head. “No. . . But it will be. That’s the point, right, Amber?”

I scowl and my nose scrunches when Amber says, “Right, hon!”

Ew. They’re fucking? And I though this couldn’t get any worse.

“Third act bloodbath, check. Killer’s revealed, check. Time for the big finale!” Amber shouts, grabbing Sidney by the hair and shaking her head.

She’s currently not focused on me, so I try to step into the shadows to call the police, but she notices before I get the chance and points the gun at me. “Stop. You’re not going anywhere. One more step and I’ll blow your brains out.”

I freeze and lift my shaking hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. . .”

My entire body hurts and I can barely stand on my injured leg since Richie kicked against it. My nose has stopped bleeding, but my lips and chin are sticky with half dried blood, and my side and shoulder ache dully.

If we get out of this alive, I just know the recovery from all these injuries is going to be long and painful.

Sam looks at me for a moment, her eyes full of fear and guilt and regret, but then Richie puts a hand on her cheek and turns her head back so she’s once again looking at him.

He chuckles softly and when she desperately whispers, “Richie. . .” he just shakes his head and shushes her before pulling the knife back out of her stomach.

Sam groans, doubling over in pain and Richie cradles her head against his shoulder.

No! That’s going to kill her. Everyone knows that your best chances of survival after getting stabbed are to leave the knife in because it stops the bleeding.

Now all I can hope for is that he didn’t hit anything vital, or she’ll be dead in a matter of minutes.

“Let’s get ‘em into the kitchen. Let’s go, bitch!” Amber says, pulling Sidney to her feet by her hair. “And you”— she points the gun at me again and gestures for me to walk in front of her—“get a move on!”

I nod and swallow thickly, biting down on the inside of my cheek to suppress a whimper when I put weight on my injured leg.

That bitch. I hate her. I absolutely hate her, and I don’t even want to think about what she did to Tara.

She’s still nowhere to be seen, neither is Mindy, or Chad, and chances are they’re all already dead.

I promised I’d protect her. . .

Tears prick my eyes at the thought of her, but I quickly blink them away since the last thing I want is for Amber and Richie to mock me about it.

I limp into the kitchen, closely followed by Amber, Sidney, Sam and Richie.

“Someone has to save the franchise,” Richie laments as Amber pushes Sidney against the counter next to me. “You see, no one has made a great Stab movie since the first one. Not really.”

He snarls and shoves Sam, making her stumble and cry out in pain. Before she can crash into the counted though, my arm shoots out and I catch her, pulling her against me.

She shudders and winces, but sags back against me. Her hand moves to the stab wound on her stomach and I curl my arm around her from behind to place my own hand over hers, applying pressure.

She’s sweating and her skin is cold to the touch, all signs of blood loss, and I pull her closer, fearing that this will be the last time I’ll ever get to hold her like this.

“Hey, baby, you want to go get the very ex-Mrs. Riley?” Richie asks Amber, raising the knife to keep Sam and me in check.

Ah, so Gale is here as well. Great. I try not to think about it and focus on keeping pressure on Sam’s stomach.

“Yeah, I do,” Amber says gleefully. She hands Richie the gun and leaves the kitchen.

Sidney uses the momentary distraction to lunge for the knife block, but Richie is quick to react.

“Hey, hey! Whoa.” He raises the knife at her and forces her back with a wicked chuckle. “Sidney Prescott. . . You know, I’m a really big fan.”

I scowl at that and tighten my grip on Sam. What a fucking psycho.

“Go fuck yourself.” Sidney seethes and when she and Richie get into a fight about the Stab franchise, Sam leans her head back agains my shoulder and whispers, “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry. You were right about him. I should have trusted you.”

I shake my head and lean down to whisper in her ear. “Don’t say that now. Save it for later.”

Sam trembles and grabs onto my forearm with her free hand. “No, I need you to know. I’m sorry. For everything.” She gasps when I accidentally apply too much pressure on her stomach. “You’ve always been there for me a-and after I left, you were there for Tara and I don’t— I don’t know how to ever thank you for that. For any of it. . .”

I can feel tears pricking at my eyes but this time I don’t force them away. The reality of the situation we’re in is starting to sink in and I know now that we’re probably going to die here tonight.

I thought we’d have more time to patch things up and make things right, but it turns out, we don’t.

Sam’s made mistakes. A lot of them, and huge ones at that, but here she is now, in what seems to be one of our final moments, apologizing for everything she’s done wrong instead of pleading for her life.

I thought I needed time and space to forgive her for what she did, but not right now. We’re about to die, and I can’t just let it happen with her thinking I’m still mad at her.

I would be if I knew there was a way we’d be getting out of this, but being on the brink of death has changed my perspective.

“You don’t have to thank me,” I whisper, closing my eyes and pressing my forehead against her temple. “It’s okay. . . We’re okay.”

She whimpers quietly and her grip on my forearm tightens. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s okay,” I say again and just then, Amber returns with Gale.

She forces her onto a chair and when Gale moves her hand on her stomach I see she’s been shot.

When the fuck did that happen?!

Richie hands Amber the knife and walks over to Sam and me with the gun in his hand, a satisfied smile on his face.

Sam lifts her head off my shoulder and stands up a little straighter to glare at him without letting go of my forearm.

“You did all this just to make me the hero of your fucked-up movie?” she asks, venom lacing her voice.

Richie shakes his head and chuckles in disbelief. “Sweetie, you’re not the hero.” He steps even closed and uses the barrel of the gun to lift her chin a little higher. “You’re the villain.“

I want to yank that gun out of his hand and bash his head against the counter, but I’m hurt, standing behind Sam, and I can’t risk him shooting her, so I stay still.

How dare he talk to her like that? How dare he call her sweetie? Sick fuck.

His face turns serious and he continues, tilting his head ever so slightly. “You’re the daughter of Billy Loomis who sees fucked-up visions of her dead dad. Sidney Prescott killed your father. You did all this just to get her back to Woodsboro.”

That’s it. I can’t take it anymore. We’re going to die anyway.

“Shut the fuck up,” I snarl which makes him raise his eyebrows in mild amusement. Sam’s fingers dig into my forearm, trying to get me to stay quiet and stay where I am, but I pull my arm back and slowly step in front of her.

Richie entertains my boldness by taking a step back to grant me some room. The gun is now pointing at my chest and I can feel Sam’s fingers curl around the back of my shirt.

“You know,” Richie says, kissing his teeth, “I saw this coming from a mile away.”

“What?” I ask lowly, aware of all the eyes on us.

“This!” He waves the gun at me and Sam who’s peeking out from behind me. “I mean, the way you look at her. . . ” He laughs mirthlessly and I feel my cheeks heat up.

There’s obviously nothing going on between me and Sam but he’s managed to see right through me.

“Shut. Up.” I hiss through gritted teeth, but it just makes him laugh for real this time.

“There it is again. That’s what I’m talking about.” He jabs me in the chest with the barrel of the gun. “So pathetic. . . I mean, just— Why? She’s a psycho! Her dad’s a literal serial killer. Is that, like, something you’re into, or—“

He doesn’t finish because I spit in his face, baring my teeth while Sam sucks in a breath behind my.

For a moment, everything is still. Nobody moves or says anything, but then Richie slowly raises his free hand and uses his sleeve to wipe the spit off his cheek.

“Oh, I’m going to enjoy gutting you, that’s for sure,” he says, sounding dangerously calm. “And I’m going to make Sam watch.”

Before I can retort anything, he grabs the back of my neck and knees me in the stomach, making me double over, coughing.

“Y/N.” Sam snakes her arm around me from behind and pulls me back so I’m standing next to her against the counter. Her brown eyes are filled with worry even though she’s in pain herself and I’m quick to nod my head weakly, silently telling her I’m okay.

I have no idea how she feels about what Richie just revealed, but now’s not the time to address it.

“Enough chit chat!” Amber cuts in and I look back up, once again pressing my hand against Sam’s stomach.

“You know what the biggest problem with the Stab movie is?” Amber asks, tapping her knife against Sidney’s chest. “There’s no Michael Myers or Jason Vorhees. No bad guy to keep coming back. But the illegitimate daughter of the original mastermind?” She scoffs with a smile on her face. “Now that’s a fucking villain.”

I can’t believe this. They’re trying to make Sam the bad guy.

Sam exhales shakily and looks at Richie with confusion and betrayal written all over her face. “How did you know?” she asks weakly, but it’s Amber who answers her, not Richie.

“Oh, about your father?” she asks sarcastically. “ I mean, it’s a small town, and your mom’s a drunk!”

I curl my free hand into a fist, but still don’t move or say anything.

“I met Richie on the Stab subreddit,” Amber goes on while Richie alternates between pointing the gun at me and Sam. “I’ve been obsessed ever since my parents bought this house. . . We realized pretty quickly we had similar ideas.”

Richie nods and tilts his head mockingly at Sam. “It wasn’t that hard for me for find you in Modesto,” he says, glancing at me for a second before adding, “It wasn’t that hard for me to fuck you, either, but I guess a sexually available woman is supposed to be empowering these days.”

Oh, how I want to cut off that motherfucker’s dick. . . I’m shaking with restraint because I can’t do anything unless I want to get kneed in the gut again, or worse, get shot.

“Fuck you!” Sam fires back, jutting her chin out and the anger with which she says it fills me with a tiny sense of pride.

Richie doesn’t seem to be bothered by it though. He simply chuckles and says, “Well, now you’re just quoting the original.”

Amber chuckles, too, and once again goes on to ramble about bringing back legacy characters and what would or wouldn’t work for their movie.

I’m honestly tired of listening. All I’m thinking about is Tara, Mindy, and Chad, and how Sam needs to go to the hospital.

It seems like we’ve managed to slow her bleeding by applying pressure to the wound, but she will go into shock eventually if she loses any more blood. Her breathing is already shallowing and I can feel her ever increasing heartbeat under my palm.

I’m so focused on that, that when Sidney lunges for a knife on the kitchen island, I flinch in surprise.

“No!” Sam yelps when Amber stabs her and Gale tumbles off her chair in her attempt to get to her friend.

Richie just sighs and crouches down next to Sidney who’s fallen to her knees. “I’m so sorry, Sid. We can’t let you live either. I mean surviving this many times. . . that would just be ridiculous. This time the fans are gonna be the ones who win.”

Sidney groans and Sam slumps against me, resigned.

“Does that cover it?” Richie asks and Amber, ever the loyal girlfriend, nods with a love sick smile on her face.

“Nailed it, baby.”

Urgh. There it is again. Disgusting.

Both of them get back to their feet and I don’t really think much of it, knowing we’re about to die any moment now, but then Richie says something that makes my head snap up.

“Get Tara out of the closet. We’ve got to start staging the bodies!”

Tara. She’s alive.

For a split second, I’m relieved, but then reality sinks in once again. She’s alive, yes, but she won’t be for much longer, just like the rest of us.

“Stay with me, Sid,” Gale whispers weakly from her position on the floor. “Stay with me.”

Sidney exhales shakily and leans against the kitchen island, pressing her hand against her stomach.

All the while, Richie gleefully goes on and on about how Sam should have listened to Dewey because he apparently told her to look at him, the love interest, and how he almost even managed to convinced her Tara was one of the killers, but then Amber’s voice from somewhere in the house makes him stop and frown.

“She’s not here,” Amber shouts and my heartbeat instantly speeds up.

She’s not here. . . Tara’s not in the closet. She must have gotten away somehow.

“What the fuck do you mean, ‘she’s not here’?” Richie shouts back, blinking in confusion.

“She’s not here!” Amber shouts again and when Sam starts smirking ever so slightly next to me, my eyes widen.

“I untied her,” she says casually, staring Richie down. “Guess you’re not as persuasive as you thought.”

Damn. That’s my girl. Wait—no. She’s not—

Richie flinches when the land line next to him suddenly starts ringing and when Sam tells him it’s for him, he pales visibly, his grip on the gun faltering.

“Amber!” he shouts. “Fan out. She couldn’t have gotten far.”

“I can’t find her,” Amber shouts back, but then a second later, we all hear a struggle break out and the sound of Tara’s rage induced scream fills me with relief and scares me at the same time.

She’s already hurt. Amber’s going to get the upper hand.

“Amber!” Richie shouts, momentarily distracted.

This is my chance.

I grab Sam’s hand and squeeze it once, very briefly, before letting go again and rushing forward, yanking at Richie’s arm in an attempt to disarm him.

His grip on the gun is almost iron clad though and I can’t get it off of him. He even fires it once, but misses and we go down in a tangle of limbs.

“Run!” I shout at Sam who’s frozen to the spot and watching us with wide eyes. “Sam, run! H-Help Tara!”

She snaps out of it at the mention of Tara’s name and stumbles out of the kitchen.

“Piece of shit!” Richie grits out and for a moment I have the upper hand, but just like Amber did before, he punches me where I’ve been stabbed which makes me recoil. He shoves me off him and gets back to his feet, stomping on my injured leg to make sure I stay down before also dashing out of the kitchen.

“Sam! Where are you going, huh? Your big scene’s coming up!” he shouts and I drag myself across the floor, going after him.

Back in the kitchen a different struggle breaks out, this time between Gale, Sidney and apparently Amber, but I can’t turn back around and focus on them now.

Sam and Tara are my priority and because I don’t know where Tara is, I’m going after Sam for now.

I’m slower than a slug, I know, but I can’t stand. I think it would honestly hurt less if Richie’d just chopped my leg off, but it is what it is now and I’ll just have to deal with it.

“Sam? SAM!” Richie’s furious shout coming from the staircase around the corner a moment later makes me move faster.

A sickening thud echoes through the house and when I finally, finally get to the foyer I see that he and Sam took a tumble down the stairs.

“Sam.” I gasp and she coughs, her eyes meeting mine for a split second before I shout, “Look out!”

Richie’s managed to get back on his feet in record time with his gun in hand, but it’s not she whom he aims at when he fires it. It’s me.

“Y/N!”

I scramble to get back behind the corner and groan when I feel blood trickling down my already injured shoulder. The bullet grazed me. If it had been a couple more inches to the left, he’d have shot me in the head.

Fuck. These close calls are getting a little too much.

Seemingly satisfied with the way he scared me into hiding, Richie turns his attention back to Sam.

He taunts her as she tries to move away from him, and I desperately want to look around the corner and see what’s happening, but I know if he spots me, he’ll just shoot at me again.

“You’re the villain.” He’s seething and I can feel my heartbeat rising in my throat as he goes on. “And the villain dies at the end. Those are the rules.”

For a split second it’s quiet, but then Sam speaks up and I hold my breath.

“I’m introducing a new rule.”

“And what would that be? Huh?” He cackles which sends a shiver down my spine.

Sam’s voice however is even and calm a moment later when she says, “Never fuck with the daughter of a serial killer.”

What?

Richie groans and screams in surprise and pain, and I can no longer just hide around a corner. I have to see what’s going on.

I pull myself up to my feet and move along the wall until I can finally peek around the corner.

Sam somehow managed to get a hold of a knife and is now relentlessly bringing it down on Richie, which is a sight that momentarily makes my brain short circuit.

He’s writhing underneath her, screaming and trying to block the onslaught of stabs, but she’s got him trapped.

She just keeps on going, stabbing with all the strength she’s got until Richie makes a gurgling sound and pleads for her to wait.

Surprisingly she does, her chest heaving and her entire face and front covered in blood as she glares at him.

“What about my ending?” he whimpers pathetically with blood trickling out of the side of his mouth and when Sam leans down and presses the knife against his neck, saying, “Here it comes,” I quickly look away.

He squeals and a no falls from his lips before all that can be heard is his gurgling and choking on his own blood.

There’s some shuffling and when I dare to look back, I see Sam stumbling to her feet with the knife still in hand. She’s breathing heavily and staring at what she’s done with a hint of disbelief on her face.

“Sam?” I prompt carefully, moving out from behind the corner. She doesn’t react, so I say it again, approaching her cautiously.

Again, she doesn’t react, but then a floorboard creaks beneath me which is what makes her eyes snap up.

“Y/N,” she whispers and almost instantly her shoulders sag and she drops the knife.

I close the remaining distance between us without any more second thoughts and pull her into a hug, not caring that she’s getting blood all over my clothes.

My shirt is already stained with my own blood from my nose and shoulder, and if the last twenty four hours have taught me anything it’s that it’s probably a good idea to invest in some hydrogen peroxide to get rid of any future bloodstains.

“Are you okay?” she asks, desperately clutching at my shoulders.

“No. You?”

She shakes her head and I hold her close for just a moment longer until Gale and Sidney emerge from the hallway that leads to kitchen.

Judging by their calmness, I’m assuming Amber’s been dealt with which makes me lower my guard a bit.

When their eyes land on Richie’s body they seem to be impressed with how well Sam’s managed to handle herself, but then Sidney says, “Careful, they always come back,” which makes Sam pull back from our embrace and take the gun Gale’s holding.

She fires it at Richie’s lifeless body twice before aiming at the head and shooting one last time.

“Okay then,” Gale says, shrugging awkwardly only to flinch a moment later when a scream erupts from behind us.

I spin around and pull Sam behind me, my eyes widening when they land on Amber who’s coming at us with a knife in hand and half her face melted off.

God, can the dead please just stay dead for once?

Amber doesn’t get very far because another gunshot rings out and she drops to the floor a split second later with a bullet hole in the side of her head.

Holy shit.

I slowly turn my head to the left where the shot came from and when my eyes land on a trembling Tara who’s pointing a gun at where Amber just stood a moment ago, I let out a breath of relief.

“I still prefer The Babadook,” she says and even though I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean, I limp toward her and pull her into a bone crushing hug.

Almost instantly, she starts crying and when I see Sam sobbing over Tara’s head, I lift one arm, wordlessly inviting her to join us.

She rushes over and throws her arms around both of us, and for the first time tonight, I drop my defenses entirely and allow myself to cry as well.

They’re okay. They’re both okay. We’re going to be okay.

_______________________________________________

Holy hell, that was a long one, but I did promise it, so I can’t complain.

Tag list: @bella423 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec @pussyydestroyer @rqizzu @pithod @morganismspam23

[bl00dh0rs3]

My friend i Hear You but also you have missed an integral part of what i was trying to say. Humans Are Not Bad. That is Not the moral of the story. Capitalism and unrestrained "innovation" that profits off of the distruction of communities and environments is the problem.

The RDA is the problem. The Military's involvement in resource gatherment is the problem. The individual humans in the Avatar universe are Normal. People. Just Like You, and Me, and our primary vector Into this story, Jake Sully. They are people caught in predatory employment contracts (iirc. The RDA canonically used a form of indentured servitude?? Among other things, like the Recombinants -- bc i think its hilarious people Actually think blue!Quaritch still has... human rights. Like they actually think the big bad RDA is that nice to their lab grown super soldiers. LOL), people who are constantly being manipulated by their superiors into believing that Nature Is Always Only Dangerous (THE RDA NPC CHATTER IN AFOP IS... GOD. some of these people had Never seen a tree before. Thats how BAD of shape earth is in), people who are coming to Pandora from their dying home planet to try to carve out a space for what the RDA is Deliberately leading them to think of as "the Preservation of Humanity".

Some people fall for those manipulations, and some don't. Some people profit off of these manipulations and perpetrate them for immediate personal gain, and some with go "fuck this noise" and take ative steps towards Escaping that purposefully confining environment so that they can try to take it down from the outside, for the good of everyone, because its what they believe is right.

Believing that humanity is inherently bad can only ever lower morale. We all see good deeds every day, as many (if not More than) we see the bad ones. Those are what we need to focus on, to praise and to uphold and stand behind the notion of kindness towards all our extended family on this earth. Hope is integral to our survival. We have to hope and work hard to improve this world in every way we can -- especially when those of us who are too apathetic for that begin to intentionally wreak destruction on the lives of others, en masse.

James Cameron may not have intended his story to be this complicated -- but the thing about all of these tropes and ideas is that they are all intrinsically related to eachother. To look at a story that is based on chronicling the oppression, resistance of inhalation, and likely eventual liberation of a fictional allegory for Indigenous People of all kinds... and only come away with "humans Are bad" is completely missing the mark, man 😭

That said, i do believe the Third movie will do a lot to help get this point im trying to explain across Better to a wider audience, given that a major talking point for it in onterviews so far has been the fact that we are going to be meeting a wider cast of characters, including both a new antagonist clan of Na'vi (to showcase that, just like Us, no na'vi are a monolith -- they are capable of the same levels of violence and malice that we are), as well as a slew of new Human characters, and a quote saying that they deliberately Want to show the better side of humanity in the coming sequels.

Its really easy to forget that Avatar is an ongoing saga on par with the rise of Star Wars back in its heyday (with historical parallels in the treatment both creators were given by their hatefans in response to its "unprecedented" popularity lol) -- but its important to bc like... we just don't have the full story yet. The soup hasnt even been brough to a Boil man we gotta just let JamCam COOK before we make sweeping judgments on the "simplicity" of the narrative, ykwim?

Watching someone play afop and im so. Oh my god. Oh my GOD. It's literally just a fucking showcase of all the Exact type of shit that has been happening to indigenous people and people of color have been dealing with for Centuries at the hands of white supremacy and imperialism. Like its literally just Showing all that Shit from the perspective of a Na'vi in universe. So it "demonizes" the RDA accordingly. And uet so many fucking reviewers are joshing on it and calling it Boring and Slow and Uninspired and that it makes human's 'cartoonishly evil' LIKE YOU PEOPLE HAVENT LOOKED AT A SINGLE FUCKING CURRENT EVENT IN YOUR LIVES. Oh my god im so mad at all these fucking reviewers now. The fucking AUDACITY to look at something this fucking Honest about the cruelty humans are capable of, while living during the fucking day and age with all this Knowledge we have at our fingertips -- the fucking audacity to look at this game and what the character goes through and not being able to muster up ANY other fucking emotion besides "ubisoft never was great at story anyway so idc lol" fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. Like actually. You can't even fucking ATTEMPT to connect to this story emotionally? Not even a fucking Smidge? Jesus fucking christ people need everything to be spoon fed to them these days. God forbid a piece of media actually ask you to meet it in the middle for once.

[writinginatree]

Breakfast Gone Wrong

Relationship(s): The lost boys & reader

Summary: You get hurt by what was supposed to be your victim, and your overprotective vampire brothers get overprotective.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, injury, blood drinking, swearing, vampire!reader, written from David's point of view.

Requested by @mizgames way back in February. I'm so so sorry for taking so extremely long to get this done. It's also a little different from your exact request because I remembered it wrong and didn't read the request again before I started writing, but I hope you still like it anyway!

David knew it was a bad idea to let you hunt on your own. He fucking knew it. That's all he can think of as he rushes to your side, following your pained screams. He should have never let you out of his sight, but you were just so goddamn stubborn he hadn't been able to change your mind. In a fit of what he can only classify as teenage rebellion, and for absolutely no reason other than being a brat, you had suddenly decided that you're a big, grown-up vampire perfectly capable of hunting alone. And David, wrapped around your little finger as he is, had given in and agreed, despite knowing he shouldn't.

He told you not to go too far away from him and the others, to pick an easy victim, to call him if you needed help.

And now here you are, writhing in the sand with a wooden stake through your stomach. He left you unsupervised for five, ten minutes at most. This will definitely have been the last time he ever let you out of his sight. He'll be damned if he takes the risk of something like this ever happening again. Nope, you're grounded — for the rest of all eternity.

The asshole who did this is currently being torn apart by Paul and Marko, while Dwayne is already kneeling by your side, assessing the graveness of your injury. David joins him, since the feral blondes clearly don't need his help. He wordlessly holds you down as Dwayne pulls the wood from your body.

You cry out in pain, try to sit up and get away, but David is stronger and keeps you in place.

He's looking anywhere but at your face. If there's one thing he can't stand it's seeing you suffer. If he looks at your tearstained face for too long he might just start crying too.

Finally Dwayne has pulled the stake — which on closer inspection is just a branch that was probably meant to feed a bonfire — free, and your wails die down into soft sobs. He lifts your head onto his lap, stroking your hair, as David holds your hands and murmurs soothing words.

Paul and Marko drag what's left of your attacker over to you, letting his blood trickle directly into your mouth. You instinctively gulp it down, though David is pretty certain you don't even consciously notice anything going on around you through the pain clouding your mind.

You'll need a lot more blood than what's left in this guy to regain your strength. In their ripping him to shreds, Marko and Paul wasted a lot of the precious liquid, which now uselessly stains the sand a few feet beside your weak form. David decides it's only fair if they're the ones to have to go and find another victim to feed you with, while he and Dwayne watch over you.

For a moment he considers immediately taking you back to the cave, but dismisses the idea as quickly as it came. With how weak you are, David doesn't want to risk moving you just yet. Not until they've gotten some more blood into you.

The other two have only been gone a few minutes, but David can't take watching you like this any longer. He pushes back his sleeve and pierces his skin with his fangs, holding the wound to your lips. You instantly start sucking his blood, and he can almost watch as some semblance of life slowly returns to your face.

"Don't give them too much," Dwayne cautions. "You weakening yourself too is the last thing we need right now."

"I know."

"They'll be fine."

"I know," David repeats, and it's halfway true. The logically thinking part of him does know that. But there's also that other part, the part that can't watch you cry, the part that would go insane if he lost you. It's the same part of him that upon meeting you all those years ago instantly declared himself your older brother, a feeling that has only been amplified after being turned into vampires. He doesn't doubt the others feel the same. As the youngest of their group you have them all extremely protective over you, though David is aware he's the most protective of you by far. Maybe even a bit too much so, though he would never admit that. It's only natural, he thinks, after all he was the first to become your brother.

But Dwayne is right, he shouldn't let his feelings get the best of him. You're going to be okay. Paul and Marko should be back with a human blood donor for you soon, anyway. He just wanted to make sure you could hold out until then.

Now you almost look strong enough to drain a victim yourself if they hold it down for you, and after you feed you'll definitely be strong enough to sit on David's bike and let him take you back to the safety of the cave. He almost thinks you'll even be strong enough to be a brat and protest, but David will not let you change his mind about grounding you. Your safety comes first, your happiness second.

He pries his arm from your mouth and wipes a few stray drops of blood from your chin with his gloved hand.

You blink up at him, seemingly a lot more aware of your surroundings than just a couple minutes ago.

"How are you feeling, kitten?"

"Ouchie."

David chuckles despite himself. "Yeah, you could say that. What were you thinking?!"

"He looked like an easy victim..." Your voice is weak, hoarse with tears, but David is relieved you're already wearing your typical bratty pout again. "How was I supposed to know he'd try and gut me?!"

"People tend not to like it when you're trying to kill them."

"That's not a reason to stab someone!"

David thinks of all the times you came close to biting his or one of the other boys' fingers off for minor offences like wanting a bite of your food or wiping dirt from your face. Just last week you threatened to stab David with your ice cream cone because he said you couldn't stay at the boardwalk any longer if you wanted to be home at the cave before the sun came up.

"Uh-huh."

He shares a look with Dwayne, and knows he's thinking the same thing.

Just then Paul and Marko come back, a woman's limp body hanging between them. They dump her beside you. "Here, baby, we knocked her out for you."

For a moment you just stare, like you're not sure what you're supposed to do with her, or too exhausted to lean over and bite her. But then you move, sinking your teeth deep into her throat and David smells the blood when your teeth break the skin.

The boys sit around you in a protective circle and watch as you drink. They're hungry too, after all they barely had time to find victims of their own, let alone suck them dry, before your cry for help drew them away. But they hold back. They can wait.

Silently communicating they agree to bring you home, and then go out to feed in pairs, so there's always two of them with you. It's an unnecessary precaution, of course, but that doesn't bother them. It will bother you — or at least you'll say it does. You always pretend to be annoyed by their protectiveness, by being babied by them so much, as you like to phrase it. But the way you always hide under David's coat, make Paul give you piggyback rides and Dwayne read to you, and insist on Marko doing your hair for you says different. You might be pissed at David for grounding you, but he doesn't doubt you'll secretly love being the center of attention like that — even more so than usual.

Paul has curled up by your side now, arms wrapped around you and nuzzling his head against your shoulder. You briefly interrupt your feeding to hiss at him. David is glad to see it — the fact you're defending your food is a sure sign you're feeling better.

When you're done there's blood smeared all over your face. Dwayne wipes it away with his flag, making you whine and try to push away his hands. "I'm not a baby, Dwayne!"

Oh yes, you're definitely feeling better.

Still, you allow David to pick you up and carry you back to where the bikes are parked, snuggling against his chest and refusing to be put back down when you've reached the bikes. David sighs and climbs on his bike with you, sitting you in front of him and telling you to hold on tight to him, despite you already doing that.

Back at the cave you still refuse to let go, so David carries you inside and settles in your favorite spot — a sort of nest you've built in a small alcove going off the main cave, consisting of a mattress covered in a pile of countless fluffy blankets and pillows, with all the stuffed animals the boys have won for you at the boardwalk over the years strewn all over the place — with you on his lap.

Paul runs after him, and throws himself down beside the both you, cuddling close. Once he's done squirming around to get comfortable he's halfway laying on top of David, too, his face pressed so deep into your side he would probably suffocate if he were human.

It reminds David that he wasn't the only one worried about you, as he watches the tension seep from Paul's body now that you're in safety and he can hold you close. Since it's obvious Paul won't be letting go of you for a while, Marko and Dwayne head out to feed first, each pressing a kiss to your forehead before they go.

You're close to falling asleep, despite how early in the night it still is. No wonder after what you just went through.

David brushes his hand over your face, gently traces the bridge of your nose up to your forehead and back down in a soothing motion, watches your eyelids flutter as you fight to stay awake.

David well remembers a night much like this one, many years ago when you had all still been human, kids living on the streets. You'd been attacked then, too, by a man who'd caught you trying to steal from him. You still have the scar on your chin, where his knife grazed you before you got away. Then, like now, you'd clung to David for the rest of the night, hiding in the questionable safety of his arms.

He traces over the scar on your chin, wondering if today's injury will leave one, too. He supposes not. Vampires don't get scars as far as he's aware, but then again there's still so much he doesn't know about all this, even after decades of undead life.

"Sleep, kitten. You've got to rest."

An agreeing hum comes from Paul's direction, but you continue forcing your eyes to stay open.

"I'm not even tired."

He ignores the wornout lie and says, "You're hurt. The sooner you go to sleep, the sooner you'll feel better."

You seem to consider this for a moment, absentmindedly playing with Paul's hair and snuggling even closer to David, if that's even possible.

Finally you nod. "Fine. But you have to stay with me the whole time. I'll get nightmares if you make me sleep alone."

David hadn't expected anything else, and agrees. He doesn't mind going hungry in favor of watching over you, even if he knows you've never had a nightmare in your life.

He keeps stroking your face, slowly lulling you to sleep.

Paul, never one to keep still for long, starts fidgeting, and David throws him a glare. "Stay still or go do something else. You're keeping Y/N up."

"Sing us a lullaby then."

Before David can even think to tell Paul to fuck off, your eyes shoot wide open again, and you nod. "Yes, David, sing us a lullaby!"

With a heavy sigh David resigns to his fate. He really needs to learn how to say no to you, but of course that's never going to happen. And, seeing the content little smile on your face, he can't really bring himself to mind.

[urrockstar-xe]

you are everything - j.m x fem!reader

posted jan 27th, 2024 3:15pm

anon asked: Hey, could u write this prompt: “I’m going to ask you something and you have to answer me honestly” for jj Maybank and Y/n fem reader. Maybe make it like an emotional scene like they are best friends and they got into a fight about her doing something dangerous idk, but it makes her realize jj loves her and then she asks the prompt like later that night.

sososo sorry for the wait love, i hope u enjoy.

use of Y/n, John B plays cupid/the mediator, swearing, not proofread.

masterlist

wordcount: 1.4k

Things had always been rocky in terms of the ”what are we?” factor for you and JJ, it was fun in the beginning and as the hunt for the gold took over the Pogues’ lives it turned into something with more substance behind it. 

Your heart nearly left your chest every time JJ pulled one of his stunts, every time he would sit there and flirt with Kie, and every single time that he decided to sleep over at yours, claiming he was too tired to go all the way home or just to the chateau. 

Of course, you let him stay every time, why wouldn’t you? 

This last time things were different. You were in the hot seat, you had to prove just how much that stupid phrase meant to you.

Pogues 4 Life and Ride or Dies had grown to mean the same things.

The cards were laid out on the table and they spelled your name.

JJ insisted on you not going he had fought John B over it.

“If she goes in there alone she’s screwed, man!” JJ was angry, John B knew how much you mattered to him and agreed to it anyway “What if it was Sarah, huh?” 

“Don’t bring her into this, man” John B gave JJ a warning look as JJ scoffed and shook his head, his gaze shifted to the floor, almost ashamed of the words he was about to say aloud. 

“Anything, I mean anything happens to her, John B, and I will never speak to you again.” 

Yet he still spoke them, and with how much the two boys had conquered together they both knew every word as the truth, John B knew how risky it was to send you in to steal that artifact, although small you could be killed if found with it.

But John B needed it, and you offered.

“If I had told her no, she would’ve fought me, you know that.” John B said, a softer tone in his voice as he watched his best friend nod in response to his words. “I know she would have” 

Despite the protests from Pope, who had just been against the idea altogether, and JJ you still went in, walking through the dark museum while getting flashbacks to when JB and JJ convinced you to come investigate the abandoned house by the chateau in 8th grade.

You were all chased out by a scary man with a gun, it wasn’t loaded but 14-year-old you didn’t know that,  JJ and John B were cheering and hollering with all of their adrenaline on your way back while you focused on not having a panic attack.

You had felt all those feelings from when you were 14 all rushing back now,

But you did it, and when you made it out to the Twinkie and you were met with happy smiles and excited cheers you weren’t fighting off a panic attack, and you weren’t 14, and JJ was pissed.

~

JJ was fuming, 

You were confused because what does it matter?

It was barely a week ago that JJ had nearly killed himself while wrecking his motorbike but when you decide to sacrifice something it's bad?

“I have just as much on the line as you do JJ! What the hell is the difference?” Your tone had come off more tired than angry, a slight contrast to JJ’s 

“No, you don’t! See when I do shit like that it's okay because I’m not important but you! You are everything, Y/n, why would you even risk something so stupid like that?” JJ’s voice sounded exasperated.

An uncomfortable silence settled between the two of you as you thought about JJ’s words, you opened your mouth to respond but before you could he shook his head and left, left his backpack on the couch, and walked to the door. shook his head, and left. 

JJ just left the chateau, leaving you standing there alone to really think over whatever the hell just happened between you two.

“You okay?” the sound of John B’s voice snapped you out of the trance JJ left you in, turning to look at him as he stood at the entrance of the backdoor. 

“Yea- Yeah, I’m fine, yeah.” shrugging shoulders and repetitive words didn’t quite convince either of you as you sighed. “He’s being so weird about this, John B,” you said, giving up on the everything is fine, facade as you put your face in your hands. 

“He’s just protective over you, should’ve seen how bitchy he got with me when I let you go in there.” John B, sat on the old couch, watching you with sympathetic eyes.

John B knew why JJ was being like this because of course he does, he just wasn’t planning to share with the class. 

“JJ is never like this with the rest of the pogues, not even you! Why does he single me out?” Your gaze fell on JB as he looked up at you with a small smile and a shrug. “I honestly couldn’t tell you what it is but, I’ve only ever gone that hard for Sarah” His words sunk in as he stood up and went down the hall to his bedroom, leaving you with the aftermath of uncovering more questions.

You sat where John B had previously, repeating his words in your head, what’s that even supposed to mean? Is he trying to play the sneaky and ominous- Oh my god, he’s trying to play Cupid.

But it’s not like JJ’s in love with you or something, he just couldn’t be.

But

If he had been in love with you that may explain many things, especially his behavior, and oh my god, again.

“JB, I’m leaving!” You called out, standing up and grabbing both your own and JJ’s backpacks as you rushed out the door not wasting time on waiting for John B to say bye. 

JJ had taken off on his motorbike which made you seriously regret having your dad help him fix it right about now as you had to go on foot but at least you knew where he’d be. 

~

It had been a thirty-minute walk but finally, that old bike came into view just before the familiar blond did, he fixed his hat, picking it up and shaking his hair for a second before putting it back on. He didn’t notice until you sat beside him, JJ turned to look at you before looking back at the water. 

A few moments passed like this, silence settling between you as you both stared at the water, arms touching and breathing becoming synced up. “You’re just not super replaceable” JJ broke the silence first, nudging your arm ever so softly. “Yeah, but neither are you” you nudged him back, looking at him only to be met with him already looking at you. 

You sighed, eyes flickering over his face as his gaze fell to what you could swear were your lips. “I’m going to ask you something and you have to answer me honestly” Your voice was soft and quiet as you spoke, watching as JJ merely nodded in response. 

“Are you in love with me?” JJ’s whole body tensed at the question, he panicked, looking out to the water while thinking of an answer that wouldn’t take away every last bit of dignity he had left-

“Because I love you, JJ” You knew he was looking for an out and your genuine confession gave him one. He looked back at you as soon as the words settled in, “I just, I can’t-” JJ sighed, words stopping in his throat, eyes pleading with you to just understand, and of course you did.

Why would it suddenly be so easy for him to say out loud when he never hears it? 

“I know, J, just yes or-” “Yes, I am” he nodded so eagerly you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Good,” you nodded.

You leaned into his hand when it found your cheek, gently guiding your face to his own before finally kissing you. Soft and slow and full of unsaid words, you felt it still even when he pulled back and sucked in a harsh breath. “I love you” JJ whispered, as if he was scared of it because he was.

But as you pulled him back for another kiss, he couldn’t help but think maybe he wouldn’t be anymore.

But that wouldn’t stop your JJ from fighting anyone who allowed you to get in harm's way, including you.

[etchingsandepitaphs]

Down Time

MORE ARCANE FANFICTION I'M NOT SORRY it's CaitVi Hurt/Comfort this time tehehe enjoy

Word Count: 2703

Summary: Vi has a couple of hours to herself, and spirals when she realizes she has nothing to do. Caitlyn comforts her, and shows her something in the Kiramman mansion that brings up an old love.

CWs: Described panic attack, discussions of war-related PTSD, mentions of death, mentions of class imbalance, swearing

------------------------

No matter how long she spent there, Vi was certain that she would never get used to the overwhelming size of the Kiramman mansion. Even if Caitlyn had said it was more modest compared to some of the other councillor’s families, she in no way believed her. The place felt sprawling, endless hallways of rooms that had taken her weeks not to get lost in. Even now, despite living there, she still found herself getting turned around.

She’d found herself with a couple hours to spare while Caitlyn was busy, and immediately she was overcome with a deep-rooted anxiety.

“You sure there’s nothing I can help you with, cupcake?” She asked, hovering in the doorway to her girlfriend’s office. Caitlyn was staring at a machine that Vi knew held all of her mother’s decades of research, and she shook her head, clearly already in intense focus.

“Just give me a few hours, and I’ll be all yours. I just have a problem that I’m trying to work out.” She was chewing on her bottom lip, and sounded slightly dismissive in a way that made Vi know that the conversation was over. It wasn’t a personal attack, it was just the way she always got when she was trying to focus. 

“Right. Okay. Cool. No worries. I’ll see you in a few hours then.” She peeled herself away from the doorway slowly, allowing the office door to swing shut behind her and trying to keep herself from being stressed out.

It wasn’t like she was trying to be clingy. Caitlyn was allowed to do things without her; hell, it was healthy for them to do things without each other. But she still felt her breath quicken as she made her way down the hall, walking aimlessly in the opposite direction of the office.

She’d been in situations that would have been the stuff of nightmares for her teenage self. She’d fought monsters, and fought people worse than monsters. She truly had very little left to be afraid of.

So why did the idea of having free time scare the shit out of her?

She had genuinely nothing that she needed to do. And while her normal recourses would be to drink or to train, she’d sworn off alcohol after her weeks in the pit, and she’d just done a pretty intense full-body workout that morning. Not having to be a walking weapon anymore meant she had to learn how to pace herself. How to think a week ahead, not just a day.

She was struggling to grasp the concept.

Having downtime wasn’t something she had been used to, in recent years. Definitely not since Vander died, but probably a bit before that. She’d been itching to fight from the moment she was old enough to comprehend the hand that the undercity had been dealt.

So she made sure that she could. She honed her skills in every spare moment she had. She got in street fights to practice, she went running to improve her stamina in case they needed to escape. She was watching her family, or she was training. Those were her only goals. For years.

And then she got thrown into Stillwater, and all of the sudden she was in survival mode.

She was almost certain that she’d never left.

Her breath was coming quicker now, and she mentally berated herself for being so ridiculous. She was perfectly safe. She had nothing to be afraid of here.

Yet her body was reading signs of panic anyway, on the edges of her mind and threatening to overwhelm her system. Her hands had begun to shake, and she couldn’t help but sink to the ground in the hallway, back pressed to the wall. She felt dysfunctional and childish; she shouldn’t have to rely on her girlfriend to give her tasks. What happened to having hobbies? She was certain that she’d had hobbies once, hadn’t she? Things that she wanted to accomplish with her time, before it had all been overcome with war?

She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, trying to calm herself down. She didn’t even know what she was freaking out about, truly. Was she honestly that upset about not having anything to do? She could go take a nap, for fuck’s sake. This wasn’t that big of a deal.

But her brain wouldn’t listen to any of that, not once the panic attack had started. All she could do was sit on the floor and unravel while she waited for her mind to get its bearings. She only hoped that nobody would —

“Vi? What’s wrong?”

Fuck.

She moved her hands away from her eyes and saw a very concerned looking Caitlyn Kiramman at the end of the hall. Caitlyn rushed over to her side instantly, clearly scanning her body for physical injury as Vi was overcome with an undue feeling of embarrassment.

Of course she’d find her like this. Of course.

“Did something happen? Are you okay?” She seemed to have concluded that there were no external signs of damage, and Vi just shook her head slightly as she attempted to breath well enough to speak.

She held up a finger signaling for Caitlyn to wait a second, and she gave her the space she needed, watching in concern as Vi forced air in and out of her lungs. After a moment, Caitlyn joined her, sitting up against the wall next to her girlfriend and taking in calming breaths.

Vi had no idea how long they sat there like that. How long it took for the fog in her mind to clear and for her thoughts to unscramble themselves. Only that when they did, she was overcome with the urge to cry.

Caitlyn seemed to notice that she’d calmed down, because she turned to her again, lightly placing a hand on her leg to get her attention. Vi flinched a bit, refusing to look at her for a second before Caitlyn spoke.

“Did I do something wrong?” She asked, and Vi’s heart broke at the concern in her voice. She turned to her instantly, shaking her head.

“No, no, it wasn’t anything you did. I just… got overwhelmed. For a minute.” It was a bullshit explanation, and they both knew it. But Caitlyn just gently wrapped an arm around her girlfriend, allowing Vi to fall into her embrace.

She didn’t want to cry, but she couldn’t help it. Her body relaxed instantly, tears running down her cheeks as she let her head rest on Caitlyn’s shoulder.

“I don’t think… I don’t think I know how to be a person anymore,” She said, struggling to get the words out, voice choked with emotion. She had a hard time crying around other people, but that had long since gone out the window with Caitlyn. At this point, they’d both seen each other cry enough that they were well aware of what the other one needed.

And Vi just needed to get it out of her system. She pulled herself back together pretty quickly as Caitlyn gently ran her fingers through her cropped hair, but she still didn’t move from her girlfriend’s arms even after the tears had stopped. She just sniffled, feeling suddenly exhausted.

“What do you mean, you ‘don’t know how to be a person’?” Caitlyn asked once her crying had slowed. Vi just sighed, shaking her head.

“I don’t know. I’m being ridiculous.”

“Hey,” Caitlyn said, tilting Vi’s chin up so she was looking her in the eye. “If it’s impacting you, it’s not ridiculous.”

She nodded, taking a deep breath before speaking again. “I’m pretty sure I haven’t had free time since before Vander died. Before… all of this. I don’t know what to do with myself now.”

“Oh, darling…” She was clearly thinking hard for a second, nodding to both herself and Vi. “I had a similar experience after my mom died. Everything in my mind was war, and anything that wasn’t didn’t feel like it had any place at all.”

“Exactly. And now that it doesn’t all have to be war… it’s like I don’t know how to be a regular functioning adult anymore.”

She felt Caitlyn’s arms tighten around her, and both women sat there in silence for a second, thoughts racing. Finally, Caitlyn spoke again.

“Well, what did you like to do? Before, I mean.”

Vi laughed a bit. “Hell, Cait, I was like ten. I don’t even know if I remember.”

Caitlyn laughed as well, before shaking her head. “Okay, then what did you wish you could do when you were a kid? Like, when you had free time, what did you want to do?”

“I mean, I’ve always genuinely loved boxing…”

“But aside from that. I know you love boxing and that’s great, but that’s also a survival tactic. What sounded like it would be fun to do, if you were able?”

She thought about it for a minute before her mind was drawn back to the job they’d done that started all of this. When she broke into Jayce’s lab, and the first thing she’d run to was the bookshelves lining the wall.

“I’ve always wanted to get more into reading. We didn’t have a ton of access to paper books in the undercity, but I remember when I was little devouring whatever my parents could get their hands on.”

She looked over at Caitlyn to see her grinning, a slightly mischievous smile that made Vi’s stomach flip. “Well in that case, I have something you’re going to be very excited to see.” She unwrapped her arms from around Vi’s frame, before asking, “Can you stand?”

“Yeah, I’m all good now.”

She rose to her feet, holding her hand out to help her girlfriend up and remembering the first time they were in this position. On the streets of Zaun, right after Vi had been stabbed. The first of many times that she had called her “cupcake.”

That felt like a thousand years ago now.

Still, she shook off her reverie as she felt Vi’s hand firmly in her’s, pulling her to her feet and quickly taking off in a brisk walk down the hall. Vi jogged a little to catch up, watching Caitlyn with a wary enthusiasm.

“Cait, where are we going?” She asked. Caitlyn just grinned again.

“You’ll see!”

They turned the corner to a hallway that Vi had never seen before, and were soon standing in front of a pair of double doors. Caitlyn was practically bouncing on her feet now, and she looked over at Vi excitedly.

“Are you ready?” She asked. Vi just raised an eyebrow at her, trying to act concerned even as a small involuntary smile flickered over her face.

“I think so?” She replied, the answer taking the form of another question. If Caitlyn noticed though, she didn’t care, just throwing open the doors in front of them to reveal the most beautiful room Vi had ever set eyes on in her life.

Just when she thought that Kiramman mansion couldn’t get any nicer, all the air left her lungs as she walked through the doorway and into an ornate library. Floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with books lined the walls, and she wondered to herself how anybody could possibly read all of these in their lifetime.

And her second thought was of how badly she wanted to try.

She didn’t say any of this to Caitlyn though, of course. Instead, she just smacked her arm and said, “You fucking people have way too much money.”

“Hey, don’t look at me! I didn’t build the house.” She put her hands up in defense, even though it was clear that Vi’s tone was lighthearted. She still wasn’t really sure if she was truly upset or not when she marveled at Piltover’s wealth. There was a strange sense of guilt that ate at Caitlyn every time she mentioned it, despite the fact that these were simply positions they were both born into.

“How…” She was snapped out of her thoughts by Vi’s breathless exhalation, the two of them having now moved into the middle of the room so that her gaze could trace every single shelf. “How many are there?”

“Oh god, I have no idea. A lot. Some of them are my parents’, but a lot of them belonged to my grandfather as well. He was quite the collector.”

“But they all belong to your family?” Vi asked, hardly able to believe it. Caitlyn just nodded. She had never viewed the library as mundane, but she was relishing in seeing it through new eyes. Recognizing just how beautiful it truly was.

“And you can read every single one of them, if you want to,” Caitlyn said, and Vi’s gaze snapped to hers. She was grinning like an idiot now, and it made Caitlyn’s heart melt.

“I cannot believe I’ve been here for two weeks now and you haven’t shown me this yet,” She remarked, her tone carrying a joking accusation. Caitlyn just laughed.

“I didn’t know you were passionate about reading! And also, in my defense, we were both a little bit preoccupied.” The cleanup and restoration efforts after the fight with Viktor and The Arcane had been immense, and were nowhere near done yet. This was just the first time that either of them had had even an hour of downtime.

Vi just laughed, though her expression turned a bit more solemn with the reminder of everything that had happened over the past few weeks. Still, the shine in them wasn’t dimmed as she looked at the room around her. “So… you’re sure you don’t need help with anything?”

Caitlyn laughed too, and she shook her head. “Nope. Nothing. I’ve got it all taken care of, and you’re welcome to spend as much time in here as you want.”

Vi grinned, pulling her girlfriend in for a kiss. When they broke away, both of them were smiling. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course. I’m just glad that I could help.”

“You always help,” Vi said, a sincerity in her voice that made Caitlyn’s eyes water.

“I love you,” She said, pulling her in for another kiss before Vi could get a word out. She laughed when they broke apart again.

“I love you too, cupcake.”

Caitlyn took her leave from the library after that, leaving Vi to stand there marveling at her family’s collection. For a moment, she wasn’t even sure where to start. The shelves didn’t appear to be labeled in any particular organization system, and none of the titles sounded very familiar.

Until her eyes caught on a book that dragged up a memory she had completely forgotten that she even had.

“Holy shit,” She exclaimed under her breath, pulling it out and assessing the cover. It was in significantly better condition than the copy that she’d had as a kid, but the memory was vivid all the same. She opened it up, thumbing through the pages as scenes came rushing back to her.

Her ninth birthday, when her parents had given her a small package. It was her favorite gift she had ever been given. She read the entire thing that night, and then the next day she read it again, and again, sitting curled up in a corner booth at The Last Drop as she devoured the pages until they were practically falling apart. She’d lost it at some point in the move from her parents’ house to Vander’s after they were killed, and the loss devastated her.

And now she had it in her hands again.

It was a children’s book. It wasn’t like it was the peak of literature. With all the books in this library, she could surely find a better one. But at that moment, there was nothing she wanted to read more.

 She held it tightly in her hands like it would slip away again, moving over to one of the armchairs in the corner of the room. Surrounded by books, nestled into a safe spot in the Kiramman mansion, she allowed herself to relax for what felt like the first time in years. She opened the cover.

And she felt the warmth of home.

[dbnightingale24]

Already Won Me Over Sneak Peak

A Follow Up 'Love Me Or Just Let Me Go'

~~

~~

Sorry for the delay! I meant to post this yesterday, but I got real fuckin' picky about certain things, because I'm ✨annoying✨ ANYWAY, this is just a snippet of what's to come, and I hope you all enjoy it! You all get heartbreaking smut, cause tomorrow is Valentine's Day!! 🙃🙃

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), Swearing, Heartbreak, Arguing, Violence, Angst, Uhh...I think that's it for now.

I do not give permission/consent for my works/stories to be posted elsewhere. I do not condone this kind of behavior or relationship, this is for entertainment purposes only.

~~

“We need to get in and out of your apartment. Only grab what’s important,” he tells you softly as he turns on the car.

“Yeah,” you agree softly.

That was the extent of the conversation you two had. 

You’ve never had such a quiet car ride with Jonathan, and you hate it. You hate this. Besides the fact that almost everyone you know and love has been attacked tonight, and you feel like it’s your fault, you also don’t know what the fuck to do about you and Jonathan. After everything that was said tonight, all of the tears and begging, he still can’t just fucking say it. You can’t help but grow tired of all of this shit. Yeah, it sucks that he feels like shit, but you’re not doing this to him.

He’s doing it to the both of you.

“Jonathan,” you sigh as he gets out of the car along with you, “I can go up on my-”

“You can get as far away from me as you want when we get home. For now, I’m coming up with you. I don’t want to argue anymore-”

“Fine, lets just get it over with,” you mutter, quickly making your way inside, Jonathan following behind you with a low groan as he sighs.

Sigh, sigh, sigh. Yeah well, this part isn’t on you. 

“Is there anything I shouldn’t bring?” you question, unlocking your door.

“You only need to bring-”

“Welcome home,” a man with a thick accent greets as soon as you open your door, his fist already traveling towards your face, but you duck just in time.

“I haven’t had a bad enough day?!” you growl, head butting the much larger man in the chest, forcing him inside. 

“I love a bitch who can fight,” the man laughs darkly, pushing you aside.

“Get out of my HOUSE!” you scream, picking up the vase of flowers Jonathan bought you hours ago and throwing them at the man, missing him by millimeters.

“This is barely a shoe box,” the man laughs, pulling out his revolver.

“Well, that’s not very nice, now is it?” Jonathan growls, grabbing one of the bar stools and smashing the man over the back of his head with it. 

That has you freezing on the spot. You’ve never seen Jonathan’s violence, and you’re not sure how you feel about it now that you have.

“You break into her home,” Jonathan continues roughly, still beating the man with stool as it creaks and cracks, “try to hurt her, and then insult her home?! Where are your manners, Ivan?! HUH?!” he roars, slamming the wooden stool against the countertop, breaking off one of its legs. “Who else has been running around Gotham doing Boris’ dirty work?! Y/N’s Mom, her Uncle, her friends?! Who did it?!”

You glance over and see that the door is still open; you run to close it, knowing that it’s bound to get bloodier and more violent. 

“I asked you a fucking question!” Jonathan broods, hitting the man with the broken stool leg.

“Boris warned you,” the man coughs out while trying to fend off Jonathan, wildly flailing his arms as he rolls side to side on the floor like a broken metronome.

“And I warned Boris! The fuck ups you all make are on you! It’s not my fucking job to fix it! You go after someone I care about and you think there won’t be any fucking repercussions?! I warned all of you and now look!”

“Dr. Crane-”

“Dr. Crane isn’t in right now!” he snarls, striking the guy across the face again before tossing the the bloody stool leg aside. “Now, apologize to the woman.” The man spits out a tooth, groaning to himself.

“Boris just wants-”

“APOLOGIZE!” Jonathan roars.

“I’m-I’m sorry, Ma’am,” the man sobs at you.

“Good boy,” Jonathan praises as he pulls out his .45. “I think I’ll make you the first casualty in Boris’ army.”

“Dr. Crane-” his words feebly teeter from his bleeding mouth.

You cover your mouth as you yelp at the steely explosive bang from the gun shot and take a step back. This day is really taking a toll on you. 

He stands up straight, breathing heavy, before turning to look at you. His hair is wild, half of his face is splattered with blood. His eyes are still and wild. You’re not sure how to feel about it, but you can’t help the arousal pooling between your legs at his feral state in the soft glow of the night.

“Pack while I run through his pockets,” he tells you after a moment, pushing back his messy hair.

“You should shower,” you tell him weakly, looking from him to Ivan’s lifeless body.

“Y/N-”

“You have clothes here. You walking out there covered in his blood is a bad look. You should shower and I’ll call the cops-”

“Don’t. I’ll take care of it,” he interrupts, tone still authoritative as he tries to calm down. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“No, no, I’m fine. I promise,” you answer calmly as a soft tapping on your door has you jumping.

“Y/N? Are you okay dear?” your elderly neighbor, Miss Francine, asks softly, and a soft chuckle leaves your mouth before you can stop it.

Are you okay? That’s laughable right now.

“I’m alright, Miss Francine. You need to get back to your room, it���s not safe in the hallway at this hour.”

“Do you need me to call someone? I’m not afraid of these thugs!” she says defiantly, and you laugh to yourself softly.

You love her so much.

“No no, I have someone here with me. I’m safe, I promise.”

“Alright dear. Good night,” she calls softly and you hear her footsteps retreating, soon followed by her door opening and closing.

“Pack,” Jonathan repeats sternly.

“Shower,” you tell him softly, giving Ivan’s dead body one last look before going into your room. 

You look around and you can’t decide where to begin. Your mind can’t and won’t slow down. You’ve just seen Jonathan murder someone, and he murdered that person for you. How the fuck is it easier for him to murder someone than fucking admitting that he loves someone? Even when he was beating the man to death, all he could say was, ‘someone I care about’.

Yeah, that’s the last thing you should be thinking about right now, but if there’s ever a time for an accidental ‘I love you’, that would be it. Damn, maybe there is a part of you that’s a self absorbed little shit, but you’re not about to feel ashamed about it. Not after all that’s happened tonight.

You hear the shower turn on, and your mind is instantly reminded of something else. 

No matter what he can or won’t say, he still killed someone. He killed them without hesitation and he did it for you. In that moment, all that mattered was keeping you safe, and he had no thought for his self care at all. His only focus was you and keeping you safe.

Plus, truth be told, him looking so unhinged and wild? A total turn on for you that you weren’t expecting at all. 

No, none of this is ideal and you still don’t know what the hell you’re gonna do about the both of you, but you know that you’re lonely and in pain. There’s only one person you want right now, and he’s the last person you should want right now. 

God damn him for making you love him so damn much.

You slowly take off your dress and strapless bra, at war with yourself about whether or not you should go through with this, but the part of you that needs a release wins. Sure, you could have a drink or a smoke, but it won’t be enough. Besides, it’s not like you won’t be drinking till you’re numb in the face for the next few weeks anyways. No, it’s not the best solution, but you’re done trying to be smart and logical for the moment. You’ve been at war with yourself since all of this started, and you’re just so damn tired of thinking. 

You just want to feel something other than sadness and pain.

“Y/N, you should be...Y/N,” Jonathan trails off as you get in the shower with him.

“I can pack after,” you tell him softly, looking him over, fingers lightly tracing over his faded scars. “You didn’t have to attack that man-”

“I wasn’t gonna let him hurt you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, but I want-need to take care of you.”

“Why?”

“Because I care about you,” he huffs, and you can hear him at war with himself.

Well, fuck it. If he isn’t gonna say it, you will. Again.

“I love you-”

“Sweetheart-”

“I love you, Jonathan. I don’t care if you don’t wanna hear it, I don’t care if you don’t think you deserve it, and I don’t care if you don’t want me to say it. It’s a fucking fact. I love you and I’ve never loved anyone this much, and I know I never will again, no matter what happens. I am so painfully in love with you, Jonathan Crane. You may be afraid of your feelings, but I’m not afraid of mine,” you tell him without fear or trepidation in your heart.

If this is the end of the both of you, you may as well lay all your cards on the table. 

“Y/N...,” he sobs, looking away from you, and your heart breaks.

He truly is broken by all of this.

You gently grab his face and turn it towards you, “You tell me you care about me? Then show me. Show me just how much you care,” you beg softly, tears in your eyes. 

Just like that, he’s gone for you.

He’s crashing his lips into yours as he presses you against the wet shower tiles, your back squishing against it. It feels like Heaven. Moaning into the kiss, you grind yourself against him while his hands travel down your sides softly; almost as if he’s afraid to touch you, as if he feels like he doesn’t deserve it.

“Show me, Jonathan,” you breathe against his lips, begging him to give you a reason to fight for more. “Show me how much you care. Show me how much I mean to you.”

This time, he grips your thighs and hoists you up, no hesitation present as you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist while he trails kisses down your neck, desperate to cover every inch of you in them.

“Dr. Crane,” you whimper, running your fingers through his hair as one of his hands starts massaging one of your breasts.

“No...please don’t...call me by my name, I need to hear you say it,” he cries shamefully.

At least you can believe it’s more than a filthy hook up now.

“Jonathan...Jonathan I need to feel you,” you pant, eyes clenching shut at the feel of his fingers kneading your nipple between his fingertips. “I need you!” “I don’t deserve you,” he groans, slowly sliding you down on him.

“Shit!” you cry, still not used to the way he so easily pulls you apart. 

“I’m so sorry,” he husks, slowly moving within you, kissing along your neck, “I ruined everything and I’m sorry!”

“Just wanna be with you right now. Tired...tired of thinking,” you moan, focusing your attention back on him, which was extremely hard since he kept- “OH MY GOD! That’s the...fuck! Right there, don’t stop!”

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he marvels, his grip on you getting tighter as he helps you chase your release.

“I love you,” you sigh, feeling your core tightening.

“Y/N-”

“I love you,” you repeat, not relenting because of his guilt for his past.

It’s not like you ever meant to fall in love, or that you even wanted to you, but you did. For all your planning, and hoping for it to be a one time thing, it hasn’t panned out that way at all. 

“God, you’re clenching me so fucking tight, sweetheart,” he grunts, his movements becoming quicker as you dig your nails into his shoulders, “feels so good being inside of you...getting lost in you.”

“Fuck! Jonathan!”

“Never knew someone could ever love me like you do,” he continues with a breathless pant, changing his angle just a bit to hit that spot deep within you.

“Oh fuck!”

“Never knew how much I needed to be loved by you!”

“Jonathan...I can’t...I can’t...oh shit!”

“C’mon baby! Give it to me! I wanna feel your love!”

“YES!” you cry out, your release washing over you as you tighten your legs around Jonathan for fear of falling if you don’t.

The bastard may have broken your heart, but he’s the closest you’ll ever get to Heaven.

“You okay, baby?” he asks softly, tenderly stoking your face .

All you can do is nod.

“Do you need more?”

Once again, all you can do is nod. 

He’s quick to turn off the shower, keeping his hold on you tight as gets out of the shower. He walks you both to the bedroom, and your eyes land on Ivan’s dead body. God, of all the ways you thought this night was going to end, this wasn’t at all what you had in mind. 

“I want you on your back,” you tell him as he goes to lay you down.

You can tell that you’ve caught him off guard. He does what you want nonetheless, and lays back on the bed, looking at you with eyes that are filled with adoration and guilt. Usually you’re not on top unless he puts you up there. That’s rare because he likes hearing the screams that leave your mouth when he fucks you hard from behind, or watch as the euphoria overtakes you when he gives you an orgasm.

You place your hands on his chest and start to ride him slowly, your hips grinding against him, mouth slightly agape at the feel of the new angle and how deep he is.

“Touch me, Jonathan,” you beg pathetically, starting to pick up your pace once you’ve adjusted to him. “I want to feel you everywhere I can.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Jonathan, please. I just need you right now,” you practically sob.

There’s a dead man laying in your living room. Your best friend may never walk again. Someone tried to kill your Mother. Your ‘Uncle’ is laid up in the hospital and his wife has been killed. The man responsible for turning your life upside down in the best and worst ways during all this can’t even tell you that he loves you. 

If all you can have is temporary bliss that only he can provide, then you’ll take it and beg for him to show you the things he’s ashamed to show. Besides, who knows when you two will have each other like this again.

If ever.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful, baby,” he groans, his hands slowly traveling up your torso.

“You think so?” you question, your damp hair falling in front of your face as you look down at him, biting your bottom lip in a weak attempt to quiet your moans as he starts massaging your breasts.

No, having sex on your bed soaking wet probably isn’t the best idea, but it’s not like you’ll be sleeping in it for a while.

“Fuck yeah...GOD!” he groans as you roll your hips against his.

“Shit!”

“Gotta have you on top of me more often,” he husks, sitting up and wrapping his arms around you, “I love watching you take whatever you want from me. You can take whatever you need, baby. You can always take what you need from me,” he promises as he grips your ass.

“Oh fuck!”

“Bring yourself on my cock like the good girl you are, baby. I know you can fucking do it,” he encourages, licking his thumb before bringing it between the two of you, rubbing your most sensitive bud. 

“Jonathan!”

“I know you wanna cum for me, baby. I know you wanna make a mess all over me, don’t you, baby?”

“Fuuu-yes!”

“Cause you’re my good girl?” “Jonathan!”

“Say it, baby. Tell me you’re my good girl!”

“Fuck yes!” you cry out, lulling your head back as you squirt hard, floating out of your own body for just a moment. 

“My messy little princess,” he praises with a grunt.

In one swift move, you’re on your back and Jonathan is fucking into you relentlessly.

“Shit!”

“You’re always gonna be my girl, baby. I know I’m a mess right now, but I will fix this. I’ll make this right,” he promises, holding himself up as he cradles your face with the other hand.

Your eyes sting as you hold back tears at his words, because you honestly don’t know what the fuck to do. You don’t know what happens after all of this gets settled. 

“I don’t fucking deserve you,” he pants as his movements become erratic, “but I need you. I need you so damn much, baby!”

“Too...it’s too much,” you sob as you feel that knot in your core tighten.

“Give it to me, give me everything,” he begs breathlessly, his grip on neck getting tighter.

“JONATHAN!” you scream out, tears spilling over from the pleasure coursing through your body and the pain in your heart as you squirt hard. One hand grips him and the other grips the bed sheets.

“My perfect princess,” he groans as he spills inside of you, his hand almost giving out.

As he rides out both of your highs, the room is filled with nothing but your silent sobs and heavy breathing between the both of you. 

Not a word is said as he pulls out and you both start to get dressed. He’s first to exit as soon as he’s dressed, and you can only assume that he instantly goes to search through Ivan’s pockets. You take your time packing up what you deem necessary. You grab all of your photos, wanting to make sure that no one else gets hurt because of your...whatever with Jonathan. You pack up your laptop, Mr. Fin, the hideous ash tray Jonathan got you in Hawaii, a few books, some comfort clothes, and basic hair supplies. You give your room a once over, fighting back more tears, before making your way out to see Jonathan sitting at the kitchen island and drinking bourbon.

“Do you have everything?” he asks, not even looking in your direction as he swirls his drink around in the glass.

“Just have to grab makeup and hair products out of-”

“I can buy you more. It’s not important.”

“Then yes, I guess I have everything,” you snap, voice edging between anger and bitterness. “Do you have everything.” “Everything that I need,” he shrugs, downing the rest of his drink before putting it in the sink. “Lets go.”

You’re quick to grab the photo of your birthday party by the door on your way out, and shut the door behind you, walking past Jonathan in an attempt to get the elevator as fast as you can.

Your mind is racing and you just wanna lay down.

The entire elevator ride down, Jonathan is tapping his foot and fidgeting with his fingers. He’s mad at himself. You know that he thinks he revealed too much of himself to you, and that makes you even madder at him. He’s already broken your heart, what the hell does he think will happen if he’s actually sweet to you during intimacy? That you’ll go off and tell everyone in Gotham that he does, in fact, have a soul and a good heart?

It’s not like anyone would believe you anyway.

The second you two are back inside his house, you’re grabbing the things you left on the floor earlier, and racing up the steps. You’re more than happy to stay locked away in a room, but the only issue is that you don’t know any other room besides Jonathan’s.

“Just take my room,” he encourages softly as he makes his way up the steps. 

“I can stay in another-”

“None of the other rooms have been slept in, in years. My room is the only room ready, and the only one I feel comfortable having you in.”

“I don’t want to be around you.”

“Lucky for you, I won’t be sleeping much.”

“When you do-”

“I know my house better than you. I’ll stay far away from you, just take my damn room,” he instructs before turning and racing back down the steps and disappearing around a corner. 

You stick your tongue out in the direction he went before turning and making your way into his room, closing the door behind you. As you drop your bags, you look around and let out a deep breath.

Welcome to your new life for the next few weeks.

~~

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Hello! I'd like to request Eula, Hu Tao, and Rosaria's s/o getting super shy/flustered about asking to hold their hand

Even tho its super cheesey i have an absolute soft spot for the trope or whatever you call that tbh

I can't believe this is what I'm using my education for...

Eula and Hu Tao with a reader that get's shy when asking to hold their hand

Characters: Hu Tao / Eula x gn!reader (separate)

warnings: none

a/n: I have to admit that I have absolutely no idea how to write for Rosaria. I came up with something, but it would have literally been something like 2 sentences. So I'm really sorry.

I'm just happy that I got to write for my two favourite's again. it's been so long

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Hu Tao 

Hu Tao never had, isn’t currently in the possession of, and never will grow a sense of shame, so while that meant that getting her to be embarrassed by something she did was almost an impossibility, it didn’t need a genius detective to notice that the people she surrounded herself with, with the exception of Zhongli and Xingqiu, although she was sure she’d get to him someday, didn’t exactly fit the same criteria.

So while her heart did skip a beat whenever you asked her anything that made your face turn red, she couldn’t help but use the chance to get a bit of fun out of your nervousness.

You should have known that no good was going to come out of agreeing to Hu Tao’s request to go somewhere together, but your stupid brain couldn’t help but accept when she asked, too excited when she took the word “date” in her mouth.

Unluckily for you however, the funeral parlor’s director’s definition of a date was taking a trip to wuwang hill and hunting for any lost souls.

“I… don’t know if it's such a good idea to go there. It seems pretty dark”, you voiced your concerns upon seeing where she was going to take you, only for Hu Tao to turn around quickly enough for you to nearly get a heart attack when you were suddenly greeted with her face mere inches away from yours, and summoning her weapon before triumphantly showing it off.

“If it’s too dark for you, I can light my weapon. We might start a small wildfire, but it’s not like the ghosts will care too much”, she suggested with her typical smile, making sure to pronounce the word “ghosts” in as unsettling of a voice she could muster.

It didn’t do much, but coupled with the already sinistre energy the hills gave off and the small, transparent children you could swear you saw running around from the corner of your eyes, only for them to vanish once you took a closer look, made the king of all shivers run down your spine.

“...or”, she began talking once again, causing you to look up at her, anticipating her next words, “you could hold my hand if you’re scared.”

It didn’t take you long to shake your head and stutter out a responce as your face turned hot, only for Hu Tao to laugh and turn back around, ready to lead you farther into the forest. Or at least she would have, if the sound of something stepping on a branch behind a nearby bush hadn’t caused you to nearly fall over dead. And while she wouldn’t complain about receiving a new customer, business could wait for a little longer.

“Y- you know what? I- is the offer still available?”, you asked slowly, the shame and nervousness openly displayed in your voice, as you looked to the ground, too scared of what you might see if you looked up at her..

“Sure, if you buy a casket from me? They’re surprisingly affordable… most of them at least”, Hu Tao joked, only to shut up for a second when she realized you were too occupied with fearing for your life to notice her genius joke.

In one quick motion, she grabbed your hand before moving to your side so the two of you stood shoulder to shoulder, before suddenly intertwining her fingers with yours.

“But since it’s you this should suffice.”

And while you spent the rest of the trip too embarrassed and deafened by the internal screaming to feel frightened by the dark hills that made you nervous from just thinking about them not long ago, Hu Tao happily skipped by your side while humming her favorite tunes.

Eula

Eula, being born and raised as an aristocrat, had been taught how to do anything with elegance and dignity, from chuckling, to getting out of what would otherwise become an awkward scene. All of which was to say that something like holding another person’s hand was no problem to her either, having to have done so at many balls and other events in her past. So as long as you remained at least somewhat calm when asking to hold her hand, it should be no problem at all.

…so why was asking this difficult?

With every minute that your date drew nearer to a close, you became less and less talkative, eventually coming to a point where you silently sat and ate your food while remaining completely silent. If it hadn’t been for the hundreds of quick glances you took at her, only to immediately look back down when your eyes crossed, Eula would have simply assumed you were getting tired. It was pretty late after all and as she knew you, you’d probably spent most of last night awake, overthinking what you would do the next day. But now, she couldn’t help but worry about other motives.

Was there something on her face? Eula quickly wiped the corners of her mouth with ner napkin, trying to play it off as casual as possible.

There it was again! You were still glancing at her, somehow seeming even more nervous than before. If it wasn’t any food, what was it? Was there someone behind her you didn’t exactly have fond memories of? Would it be weird to take a look? Or was it her after all that caused you to act this way? Did she say something hurtful before? No wait, did you take her joke too literally? Maybe she should work on her communication skills after all?

“caniholdyourhand?”, the words shot out of your mouth, as you nervously looked around, your cheeks having turned a deep shade of red.

“What?” Eula asked, more in confusion than in anything else. Was this what you were acting all nervous about? A part of her felt relief wash over her, and yet your shyness began rubbing off on her more than she’d like.

“Can I- you know… uhm. Hold your hand?”, you asked once again, a lot slower this time but in turn much more quiet than before.

Before long, Eula reached out her hand for yours before grabbing it. There was no need to act all shy about something like hand holding, afterall, especially for an aristocrat like her. But then again, you had never been too confident about things like this, so she might as well give you a hand and help you out a bit.

Or so she’d like to, if her face wasn’t in the process of matching yours in the color department.

…Why was this so much more difficult with you?

[maybeitsalivescribbles]

TTD - First Meeting 2/4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 and end

Part 2, sequel of this. This Hero and Villain have now their own tag and masterlist.

*

Hero woke up and they didn’t like that very much.

The ground was hard under their head, and they winced. Their fingers unwillingly clenched and grasped some gravel.

Wait a minute. That meant they weren’t in a room. Not theirs, anyways. Come to think of it, where were they and what happened ? Their head hurt. They touched their forehead gently. There was no blood, and it looked like it was in its usual shape. Still, it hurt.

Maybe the next step was standing up, come to think of it. So they did. Stretching up, they clasped their tongue, trying to focus. It had been a while since they had felt this sluggish. They were in a little street. Okay. That was an important piece of information. So, they were going back from their last job (stopping a robbery, nothing serious) when – when – they forgot.

How could have they forgotten ?

They stayed still. Apart from them, there was no one in the street. Everything was quiet. And, possibly, very wrong. Something was missing. Hero was quite sure that it wasn’t a street before, but a dead end. What was blocking the way before was a two-storeyed building, full of people. Now it was... gone. It hadn’t been demolished or anything. There weren’t ruins or even rubble around. There just wasn’t a trace of it, as if it never existed. It was the right street though, and if they struggled very hard to remember, they were inside just before. There were just fragments of memories. A thief sulking in a corner, their hands tied up behind their back. A smile from an old lady. A warm cup of tea into their hands and the odor of the mint.

The next minutes were used to frantically search for the people who lived there, anyone. After a lot of swearing and some tears, they had to renounce. They sat on the ground, vaguely entertaining the idea of curling up and never getting up ever, when their phone rang.

“Are you okay ?” asked Other Hero. “There was an attack from Supervillain in your area.”

“Yes. Just where I was, in fact.”

“Oh shit ! How did you survive ?”

“I think my powers protected me. But a whole building is gone and I – I don’t understand what happened.”

“ It’s your first time with this guy, uh ? You’d better sit down, buddy, I’m gonna break it to you.”

Other Hero had that tone she always had when they passed their regular tests, just before obtaining the highest grades. Hero listened.

“His power is very simple, actually,” she declared. As you saw – or rather as you didn’t see - he can make things disappear. He only has to look at the zone, and everything is gone.”

“A whole building ? What about the people ?”

“I’m sorry, have I stuttered ? Gone.”

A drop of sweat slowly trickled down Hero’s forehead.

“I don’t see how I could fight that”, they finally said. Is there a way ? Has he got a weakness ?”

“Oh, you can’t. With your powers, that is. It’s best if you don’t try. At least you’re protected, but you haven’t got what it takes to bring him down.”

“You do.”

“Of course, but I’ve got my area to protect, you know. Tell you what though, I’ll call the agency and ask them if they can send you backup.”

“Thanks, but -”

They didn’t have the time to finish their sentence. Other Hero had hung up. Having backup was good, but with this kind of threat it couldn’t hurt to have a plan B.

The warehouse they had visited a couple of weeks ago was not far, and still standing. With a bit of luck, it was still Villain’s lair. Hero hadn’t come back since. It wasn’t as if this villain seemed like a serious threat anyway. Even the place itself wasn’t that threatening, past the first impression. So they opened the door without much thought, and because they were still dizzy, they walked on a button without noticing. They only had time to gasp and protect their head with their arms when a huge cage just fell right on them.

There was a series of clicks, and when they opened their eyes again, they were surrounded by heavy metal bars. Spotlights illuminated their trap one by one while a booming laugh resonated in the room:

“You’re mine now ! Miiiiine !”

A dark shape appeared at the end of the corridor. The spotlights were strong, but they couldn’t lighten it up. Light seemed to avoid the black silhouette.

“I knew you’ve come back to taunt me, nemesis, but that was your downfall ! See what I could do in your absence ! Tell me, prisoner, am I harmless now ?”

Hero didn’t answer. They were still staring at the darkness. Villain had to clear their throat to get their attention.

“I said ! Am ! I ! Harmless ?”

“Uh ? Oh, uh, yes. I mean, no – I mean – what was the question again ?”

A grunt of frustration came out of the silhouette:

“You are into my claws ! How can you not pay attention to every one of my words ? I am the master of your life – nay, the master of your very fate ! Be awed !”

“I kinda am.”

The shape stopped its walk:

“You – you are ?”

“Yes. Do you control shadows ?”

“Only mine, but as it is the best, I do not care what others could offer me.”

“ And yet you could darken this whole warehouse”, whispered Hero. “And all the buildings you go to. I suppose you can make it as big as you wish. That’s impressive.”

“Extremely. I’m glad you’ve finally come to your senses. Imprisonment quickly taught you some manners.”

“Actually, I didn’t come to fight you. I came for two things. A warning, first.”

“Ah, it is to laugh ! They’re nothing but a pitiful prisoner, a mere prey at my mercy, but still they try to rebel ! Such audacity.”

“Supervillain is here.”

“You have to be more precise.”

“The one who can make everything disappear.”

“...shit. I mean, curses !”

“And he’s here to stay if I don’t do anything to stop him.”

“So you want to beg for your freedom ? What if all of that was an outrageous lie to deceive me as a way to mock me once more? ”

“That’s the thing, Villain. Even if I were free, I couldn’t defeat him. I’m not powerful enough. That’s the second thing I wanted to tell you. I need your help.”

“ Excuse me ?”

“Supervillain needs to see to use his power. But if the whole area is in your shadow, he’ll be helpless.”

“A poor plan, if I might say so. I only need to cover his eyes to blind him.”

“If you succeed to find him first, that is.”

“That wouldn’t be a problem. If memory serves, he had an awfully tacky magenta suit, even flashier than your orange jacket. But wait ! Why should I listen to you ? Why should I expose myself to the cruel outside and the crueler sun ?”

“Your warehouse might be on his way. And that’s the kind of act that can grant you a pardon from the agency.”

The silhouette recoiled:

“I neither need nor want a pardon. I am a devious malevolent being of pure darkness and I intend to stay that way.”

Hero wiped his forehead. They were getting tired.

“Okay, fine. We’re running out of time. What do you want ?”

“For starters, I want you to kneel.”

Hero tilted their head, confused:

“Why ?”

“You know. To acknowledge my superiority and your defeat, all of that good stuff.”

“Oh. Okay, if you want.”

Hero politely obeyed while the laugh resonated once more:

“Yes...yes ! Muahaha I am the unflinching and unbowed victor of our perilous fight !”

“Uh-uh, sure. If there something else ? I think that we’re running out of time here.”

“Pledge your allegiance to me.”

“What ? But I’m a hero. I can’t.”

“Then I won’t help.”

Hero actually felt a twinge of remorse. That was a promise they were going to break, but then again, it was going to be made under duress.

“What would you make me do ?”

A moment of silence ensued.

“I don’t actually know”, admitted Villain. “It would be my first time someone would submit to me, I don’t go outside much. The very thought of another soul touching my tools and my creations makes even my dark soul shudder.”

“I could go shopping for you. This way you won’t have to scare citizens.”

“Using your own money to trade for the goods I decide you to get to sustain my mortal body ?” asked the voice which was suddenly a lot more cheerful.

“You really don’t like to go outside, uh ?”

“Hush, prisoner. It is decided, then. I shall fight this obnoxious magenta menace who…!”

Despite the heavy doors, a piercing scream from outside made them both start. Hero jumped on their feet.

“...And the sooner, the better.”

*

Sequel here

Back to These Two Dorks masterlist.

Or back to Hero x Villain Masterlist.

[atschoolunfortunetly]

A Very Long and Very Rage Written Rant about people talking about the FNAF Movie because I am seeing some takes that make me want to bash my head into a wall.

Very quickly an apology to my followers on here that followed me for Sonic. I would post this on my main but if you read my username I don't really have the time to do that right now. Very sorry for clogging up your TL.

Anyway, I am about to use very aggressive and targeted language. I am not hating on anyone specific but I am going to be saying sentences like "Are you dumb? Why are you like this?" Tumblr is my void and I am going to scream. I know some of the things I say may not be common knowledge. However, in this rant, I am going to pretend that it is. I am going to swear a lot. I am going to be talking about fist-fighting people whom I disagree with.

Just know that once again, this is a rant. Not a "please stop saying blah blah blah blah." I am not going to go out of my way to attack people. Which is, once again, why I am screaming here.

"Why the big warning?" BECAUSE SOME PEOPLE ON MY MAIN BACK WHEN I COMPLAINED ABOUT PEOPLE COMPLAINING ABOUT THE RED EYES YELLED AT ME. MY POST WASN'T MEANT TO TARGET ANYONE SPECIFIC. I WAS MEANT TO BE YELLING AT A MADE-UP DUMMY I MADE IN MY MIND!

With that out of the way, it is time to scream.

OH MY FUCKING GOD SOME OF THE THINGS YA'LL ARE SAYING. I have never felt the urge to rip through my fucking screen and grab some of yall by the throat. I want to bodyslam you onto the ground and pummel you to death.

Let's begin with a recent complaint I saw about William having no motivation in the movie and how they should have given him his motivation, let me tell you something bud.

They did. They did give him his motive. However, this is a 2-hour movie and they didn't dive into it. It's almost like they're making a second movie or something? OH WAIT THEY ARE! THIS IS THE FIRST MOVIE! THEY ARE ESTABLISHING ROLES!

They want you to grasp from this movie that:

William is a threat.

Mike is doing his best and is not going to pick up on everything.

Abby and the missing kids are, indeed, regular-ass kids who aren't going to understand fully the situation they're in.

Vanessa is a traumatized individual who wants to please her father and was manipulated into helping him because, you know, THAT IS HER DAD.

They are setting up the basics so people know what to expect from the next film. They will, most likely, be going into William's motives then. But as of right now, they are setting the roles that each character is going to take.

I don't know how some of yall ain't getting that because it is the most clear as day thing to me but that may be because I am aiming to be a writer down the line.

Time to aim at the other complaint I've seen which is that Vanessa is an Afton complaint. All I have to say to that is, whoah, it's almost like the movie takes place in an alt-universe from the games. And even if Vanessa is an Afton in the games who gives a fuck? She isn't Williams's direct child if that's the case and it just ties her in with the old characters. A popular thing I have seen a couple of times is that sometimes people portray Gregory as an Afton. So what's so wrong about Vanessa being an Afton. I am genuinely curious here? What's wrong about her being an Afton.

Some of yall come up with the most stupidest ass complaints I swear to god.

"But Micheal is meant to be the Afton-" Tell me how that would have worked in this movie. Tell me how Mike would not have recognized his own father if he was William. Also, I like that the movie implies that his dad is probably Henry.

"How does it imply that?"

I don't know, why don't we look at the career office scene again where William reads Mike's last name and recognizes it. He wants to tie up his loose ends.

And Mike? Mike is a loose end.

It just makes sense and it goes into the last complaint I saw about the movie.

The "I always come back line doesn't make sense," complaint.

THE REASON WHY IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE TO YOU IS THAT YOU KEEP PLACING IT IN THE WRONG CONTEXT YOU FOOL, YOU ABSOLUTE BAFOON. YOU'RE PLACING IT IN THE GAME'S CONTEXT. NOT THE MOVIES.

If I am fucking right about the fact that Henry is a Schmidt in the movie then that means William has always been a part of Mike's life. He has been haunting Mike since he took Garret, he influenced Mike to get a job at Freddy's, and he was the reason why Mike met Vanessa.

When he said he'd come back, he wasn't talking about coming back from the dead.

He meant it as he'll come back and make Mike's life a living hell.

Anyway rant fucking over, yall pisses me off. Good day.

[teddy-bear-baby]

Their Deadly Flower - Five

Pairings: Ghost X GN!Reader, König X GN!Reader 

Warnings: Mentions of violence

A/N: I’m so sorry this is so late. I have the memory of goldfish I swear. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

Prolog - Chapt. 1 - Chapt. 2 - Chapt. 3 - Chapt. 4 - Here - Chapt. 6

      “I refuse to just leave Iris behind.” Ghost's voice is loud and authoritative, nearly yelling at Price.

     “Consider it an order then. There’s nothing we can do to help now.” Price’s face is a cross between hurt and anger as his usually calm and cool demeanor slips.

     Soap’s voice is weak and broken. “Please, not again.” He makes no attempt to hide his devastation as he pleads with Price.

     It was no one’s fault and they all knew that. Not 141 nor KorTac. The mission hadn’t gone as planned. They had been caught off guard on what was meant to be a stealth mission. The building went on high alert. Everyone inside scrambled about readying themselves for battle. The order was given to take out the power and disorient the enemy to give themselves the upper hand. And so they did. It was a solid plan and all was going well until they were separated by oncoming forces.

    Ghost and Soap had watched it happen from a room across the hall. In the midst of a tussle, Iris’ helmet and NVGs had been knocked off. The fight that ensued was over quickly with Iris standing over the opposition’s lifeless body. Before they could reach Iris, they were swept into combat once again. When they finished with the onslaught of enemies, Iris was gone. They looked for a while before Price told them it was time to get out. The enemy had backup on the way and they needed to vacate the premises. They’d waited and watched from a hill a ways away. All of them with binoculars pressed to their faces. They watched as the backup troops entered the building.

     Everyone’s hearts dropped when they heard shots ring out a few moments later. None of them said a word or moved. They held their breath for what felt like hours before Price finally spoke.

     “König, sniper.” He gestures for the large man to take up Iris’ post as the sniper. “With no one else in the building, they’ll be making their move to transport Ronald soon. As soon as you see him, take the shot.” A heavy sigh leaves Price’s mouth. “The rest of you should be ready for a firefight.” With his final order given everyone moved into position, mentally baring themselves for the slaughter they were about to cause.

      They waited in tense silence for a little less than an hour before the side door finally opened and out stepped the man they’d been looking for. König readied himself to pull the trigger but hesitated.

      Price pulled away his binoculars for a brief moment. “What are you waiting for? Take the shot König.” Price watched as König shook his head lightly, still peering through the scope.

     “Not my shot to take Captain.” König pulled away from the scope and nodded for Price to look down at the side door

      Everyone’s eyes shot over at the small gesture just as another small figure exited the door holding what appeared to be a pistol to the back of Ronald’s head. All rushing to lift their binoculars back to their faces, they watch as the person ushered Ronald forward slamming the door closed behind them.

     Price’s voice is full of surprise as he utters the only words that come to mind. “Well, I’ll be goddamned.”

~~~~~

    The day after the briefing, 141 and KorTac set off for the warehouse where you all would be training together. The goal was to take the place down from the inside and capture the target for questioning. The target is Ronald F. Mollins.

 He'd been suspected, and recently confirmed, to be one of three heads of a well-known terrorist organization. Said organization had been responsible for at least twenty-four of the latest terrorist attacks and bombings and your capture two years ago. According to Price, they had another attack planned for two weeks from now. It was crucial that you capture, or take down Ronald.

      On 141’s latest recon mission, Gaz stumbled upon the building plans for Ronald’s new safehouse. Price had everything set up and ready to go by the time you’d all been called in for the briefing.

      The mission training area was an old warehouse that was normally completely empty on the inside. On the occasions that it would be used, recruits would be ordered to set it up in a very specific way. Today, for instance, it was set up to mimic the hideout you’d be infiltrating. Pallets and old metal sheets acted as faux walls and doors. Old lights flicker above your head as you all take a preliminary walk through the building.

      You jump a little at the sound of Price’s voice coming through your headset. “I’m going to give you all 10 minutes to get a hold of your surroundings, then we’ll begin strategizing.” Your eyes find him standing overhead on the left-side catwalk. His watchful eyes from above were a luxury you wouldn’t have come time for you all to execute the actual mission.

     You all regroup at the front of the old warehouse-turned-training facility. Ten minutes had been more than enough for you to mentally map out the quickest route to Ronald’s office. The side entrances would definitely be key for getting you all in and out if you wanted to go with the stealthier option. For the louder alternative, however, the rear entry seemed best suited. Lots of cover from tight winding halls, plenty of rooms to dip into if things got too hairy, and most importantly, it was the closest entrance to Rolnalds office.

      You look around yourself at your team that had recently doubled in size. Most of them were deep in thought as they tried to come up with anything to contribute to a plan. Your eyes stop at König as he swiftly turns his face away from you. Had he been staring or was it simply your imagination? He had seemed off this morning, not that he didn’t seem off most of the time. This morning was different though. When you’d said hello to him in the kitchen he hadn’t said anything back. Not too strange you suppose but the way he avoided eye contact with you had made you feel some way. Hurt almost. You thought you two had started to become somewhat acquaintances at the very least, if not friends. Casual ‘Hello’s in the halls, small conversations about your days when you’d catch each other in the training room. Even sparring with each other.

     It was like a switch had flipped in him. The sweet man from before was gone and here with you stood someone almost as cold as Ghost. He wouldn’t look you in the eyes. He wouldn’t say even one word to you. You hadn’t really noticed it before but you think maybe he had been avoiding you while you all walked through the building. Your heart drops as you think back to your previous interactions with him. Had you made him angry with something you’d said? Had you hurt him while training with him? No, surely he would have told you if you had. So, what was it then? Your heart grows heavy with your thoughts.

      “Alright ladies,” Price looks around the group and gives you a small nod, “And Iris.” A grin etches itself into your lips as he grins at you. He takes a step toward the center of the group clapping his hands together. “What’s the game plan?” Murmurs break out among the group of soldiers around you.

     One of the members of KorTac, Horangi you think is what the others called him, speaks up. “We could just blow through the doors, go in and take what we want.”

      Your brows raise at how rash he sounded. “That seems like a really bad idea.” Your hand comes up to absent-mindedly rub your temple. Working with contractors such as these was going to be hell on earth.

     Another KorTac member steps forward. “What would you know?” His tone is aggressive, almost hostile. “You just got accepted here, what, last week? I suggest not sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

      Heat rises in the back of your neck. Breathe. In. Out. Think through your actions. Anger should be used in a productive manner. “Quite a bit of hypocrisy in that statement, For-Hire.” Your words come out calm and calculated. “Now, if I may finish, I was saying we shouldn’t risk-”

      “For-Hire?” His voice drips with animosity as he steps toe-to-toe with you. “Watch your tone Louse. Wouldn’t want to wind up missing would we?” He’s so close now his nose nearly brushes yours as his eyes scan your form.

     Your mind begins to reel with images of you beating him into submission. Breath. On your right, you can see the 141 watching with entertained looks. From the corner of your eye, you catch a brief interaction between Price and König. Price holds his arm in front of König with a small shake of his head. König's eyes held a look of murder in them as he stared at his comrade’s back. Price clearly wanted to see what you’d do in this situation. You move your eyes back to the man in front of you, his larger form still looming over you. You blink slowly up at him, letting a heavy sigh slip out under your balaclava. The heat soaks into the fabric warming your cheeks with every breath. “I say this with all the respect I can find for you; please exit my personal space.”

     His eyes flash with defiance and he shows no sign of moving. His breath fans your face as he continues to loom over you. “I’ll move when I’m ready, Recruit.”

      “Why are the dumb ones always so cocky?” Your question causes a chorus of snickers to your right. You find it amusing, though it does little to push down the rage that has steadily grown within you. “Look, I asked you politely to get out of my face.” Teaching respect was productive, right? You allow your anger to bubble to the surface. “That. That was your warning.” He opens his mouth to say something back but all that comes out is a small shriek of pain as your boot makes contact with his groin. He falls to his knees before you and without a second thought, you twist him around to face his comrades. Your left-hand pins his right arm behind him, while your other hand pulls a knife from your vest. You press the dull edge lightly to his throat, smart enough even in your rage-stricken state to not seriously harm your own team members.

      You’re still seething but decide the poor man had had enough to learn his lesson. You slowly remove the knife from his throat and shove him forward into the ground. “A second warning is a luxury, For-Hire.” You take a small step back as your body slowly comes down from the adrenaline. “Savor the feeling and don’t make me regret leaving you alive.” You step back into your spot among the 141 as the man scurries back to join KorTac. You can feel König’s eyes on you. The way they take you in, the feeling of his stare was becoming all too familiar. You risk a glance his way and sure enough, he was looking you up and down, admiration replacing the murderous gaze he had moments ago.

     Price chuckles under his breath. “Perhaps I should have introduced you all one by one. I want this to sit in your minds as a prime example of why we never underestimate our opponents.” He gestures toward you as he turns to face the soldiers across from you. “I would like you all to meet Iris. Our newly returning Sergeant specializes in stealth ops, sniping, and swift takedowns. Light-footed, quick thinking and isn’t afraid to play dirty. In shorter terms; not to be messed with.” He steps back and turns so that he’s facing everyone. “Now then, let’s hear that plan.”

      After about thirty minutes of planning you all set off to test out the operation. After a few failed attempts, the first plan was thrown out the window. This pattern repeated itself over and over. Tensions had been rising all day and each failure pushed things closer and closer to the breaking point.

      Everything came to a head when König suggested moving you with KorTac at the front of the group. Ghost was having none of it though. His sudden possessiveness made you a bit weak in the knees. “That’s a fucking fever dream if I’ve ever heard one.” His eyes burned with white-hot rage from the long tense day. “Iris stays with me, end of story.” Me, not us? Your face flushes under the mask you wear.

      “But, if we had someone a bit smaller in the front we could keep things quieter. We could make it further in before being ambushed.” König explained his point as if Ghost would listen to reason.

     You shrug a little as you look between the two. “He’s not wrong Lt.” You play with the bottom edge of your balaclava. “Actually, König, do you think you and your team could get me close to the power box?”  You don’t miss the glare Ghost shoots at you. “If we could cut the power part way through rather than at the end, we would have the upper hand.” You turn to Ghost as he responds.

     “No.” His eyes don’t leave yours as he continues. “We’ll station someone, Gaz, near the power box. Give the word and throw them off. We’ll have the upper hand when we need it, and you.” He pokes his finger into your chest. “You stay with me.” Desperation flashes through his eyes for a split second. You can tell by how rigidly he stands that his mind has taken him back to the day they left you behind.

     Your eyes soften as you reach up and grasp the hand still touching your chest. His hand trembles slightly within yours. Even through both pairs of gloves you feel electricity jump between your hands. “Ok,” You search his eyes, making sure he’s in the present with you. His gaze shifts to where your mouth is under your mask. “I’m here. I’m with you Lt. I’m not going anywhere.” His eyes shoot back up to yours. “I’ll stay with you.”

     He gives a small nod and creases form at the corners of his eyes as though he’s smiling. It’s gone as quickly as it came though replaced with that hardened gaze once again. “Good.” He pulls his hand from yours to pat you on the shoulder. “Let’s see if this works, shall we?”     ~~~~~

     You’d done it again. This time you were certain it was over for you. There would be no relocating you this time. No, you would be dead if you weren’t careful. You messed up, let yourself get caught off guard as your team and KorTac combed the halls in the dark. A group of opposition fighters came out of thin air, rushing your whole group. Everyone got separated in the attack. It was a risk you took every time you stepped out of the base to go on a mission. You could get separated, but you trained for that. You hadn’t, however, trained for the moment when your helmet along with your NVGs got knocked from your head by the opponent.

     You’d done your best to fight him off in the dark unsure where your equipment had landed. Once you had subdued your target you made your way out of the room. Using the sounds of battle you avoided high-traffic areas as you use the wall to guide you. After fifteen minutes your eyes had adjusted enough to see about twenty feet in front of you. Sighing internally you remind yourself that they too were blinded by the darkness and as long as you’re quiet, you may catch up to your team before everything goes to shit.

     You sneak your way through the halls the same as you had days before when practicing for the mission. You still had the rest of your gear to fall back on if things got too chaotic. Stealth is what you’re good at, that’s why you were recon by default. You could do this. You carry yourself in a low crouch through the building remaining silent. Every turn could be your death, and your mind is sure to remind you of that every time you pass an intersecting hall. You had two choices here, go straight for the exit and hope that they don’t have extra forces surrounding the building, or continue the path you had taken 15 times in training. It would most definitely be considered abandonment if you left without the others. What could you do though? Not only were your NVGs attached to the helmet but it also secured your comms to your head. Reaching out to them wasn’t an option whether you want to or not.

     You finally decide to move forward with the mission hoping they hadn’t moved to plan B. You make your way through the halls silently until you come to the center-most room. You had stopped briefly to gather your sense of direction when you heard it. Backup troops stormed through every entrance calling out into the darkness. You had to move quickly to reach your mission point before they did.

     It became evident to you that this would be your end when troops equipped in tactical gear appeared around you. You counted three as you stood, ready to fight for your life. It was pointless, you knew that the sound of the scuffle would most certainly draw more attention. Taking your chances you make a break for the closest doorway. They all followed shouting out their location for any nearby opposition to hear. After entering the room you spin on your heels raising your pistol to the opening you’d just come through. As they round the doorway to file in you open fire. Taking out two of them with no issues. The third managed to get a shot off on you. The impact and searing hot pain in your shoulder sent you stumbling back into the wall. With heaving breaths you allow yourself to slide down the wall.

      “Enemy down, all clear boys.” The man's retreating footsteps surprised you. Had he really thought you were dead? Were you dead?

      Blood drips from the wound down onto your gear as your head lolls forward. You sat there watching it for what felt like hours. There was no point in moving, you’d be gunned down if anyone found out you were still breathing. You couldn’t sit there and do nothing though, you had to do something or you really would die right here in a puddle of your own blood. The halls had been quiet for a while now you could probably risk checking if they had left, right? Your body felt sluggish, you’d lost quite a bit of blood by now. You weren’t strong enough at this moment to get to your feet. With an annoyed roll of your stiff neck, you move to release the straps of your vest. Without the weight of it and everything tucked inside you are able to stand. Every movement sends a sharp pain through the wound in your shoulder.

     As you peer from the doorway you find the halls empty. No enemy troops, no KorTac, and no 141. A light catches your eye from down the hall. As you slowly regain your bearings it dawns on you; Ronald had a generator for his office. That was one of the main points Price had driven into all of your heads during practice. That’s how he’ll call in the backup troops once the power is out. You’ll have less than fifteen minutes to get him or get out. Price’s voice nags in the back of your mind. How had you forgotten?

      The light gives you hope as you step into the hall. It was like the universe was giving you a sign, a way out of this mess. Ronald wasn’t a fighter. He had men for that. But if his men thought it was clear then there was a chance that Ronald was alone in there. There was a chance that you could still complete this capture with or without your team. You move quickly but silently like a predator on the prowl. You peak through every doorway, being sure every room is clear along the way to Ronald’s office. Now, standing toe to toe with the wooden door, you stop for a moment and just listen. The sound of clacking fills your ears as you grasp the handle. The hum of what sounds to be a printer emanates from beyond the door as the clacking stops, giving you the perfect cover to slip into the room.

     Ronald’s back is to you as you silently close and lock the door, ensuring there wouldn’t be any interruptions. Slowly you creep up behind him pressing the barrel of the pistol to the back of his head. “Don’t move, don’t speak. I have an ultimatum for you.” Your breath is deadly silent as you move to wrap your nondominant arm around his throat. You wince inwardly at the pain that ripples through you when moving that shoulder. “Firstly, are you armed?” He’s silent. “Yes or no, Ronald. Are you armed?” Your voice is forceful and wicked in its tone.

      “No.” His voice is shaky. He’s scared. Good. That means he probably isn’t in fact armed.

     “Good. Do you want to make it out of this building alive?”

     “Yes.” The single word comes out as more of a breath.

     “Great, now I have a few steps for you to follow.”

     “Why would I follow any instructions from you?” His voice still comes out shaky.

      “Well, that’s the ultimatum, dear Ronald.” Your voice lilts as your mind begins to suffer a bit of delirium from the blood loss. “Either you follow every word that comes from my mouth, or you die right here, right now.” Your gun presses hard into the side of his head in an attempt to prove your point. “Is that clear?” His small nod is enough for you to ease up just a bit. “Good, now listen.”

      You walk him step by step through every one of your demands. “Turn the power back on and lock down every door. I want them to only work with your key card.” You watch him like a hawk every step of the way. “Now, we’re gonna take a little walk to the west exit and you are going to call off all of your men, understand Ronny?” His legs shake beneath him as he nods fervently. “Alright, let’s get a move on Ronny boy, we’re burning daylight.”

     It was a rather short walk to the side entrance. You’d crossed paths with a few of his men but they were quickly dispatched as you both kept moving. True to his word only his key card worked for the doors. As soon as you’d enter they’d seal behind you, his men stuck on the other side helpless to free their leader. Once you’d finally reached the side door you sighed. This was it. You’ll be out in the fresh air where you could make your run back to the makeshift base about an hour's drive out.

     “Thank you Ronald for your cooperation. I would hate to have had to kill you.” You keep the gun level with his head as he pushes open the door to freedom. He steps out into the daylight, bringing his arm up to shield his eyes from the sun. “Keep moving, I can still shoot you.” He takes a few hesitant steps forward as you follow him out. You spare a glance at the top of the hill on your left, catching sight of 141 and KorTac making their way down to meet you, Ghost and König leading the charge.

     You’d survived. You’d fixed your mistake. Even through all your doubts and thoughts of your own death, you persevered.

[actual-bill-potts]

The thing abt the nargothrond debacle that makes it endlessly fascinating as a character study is that there’s no good path for anyone involved, and so many of their actions (at least at first) have completely understandable motivations.

Like. starting from the very beginning: was it dumb for the sons of fëanor to swear the Oath? We can all agree it was. And there is some very interesting meta out there on what exactly the oath meant when it was sworn, but tbh in context it mostly reads as a declaration of war against morgoth. Fairly reasonable 🤷‍♀️

And, was it dumb for finrod to swear his oath to barahir? I mean…maybe! On the one hand, by rescuing finrod barahir was kinda just Doing His Damn Job, but on the other hand he did go above and beyond. And it was a very noble and kind gesture, which is the kind of thing finrod specializes in.

So then beren shows up and begs finrod for help, which is a perfectly reasonable thing for him to do. Now, do I wish that he and luthien had told Thingol to get fucked and gone off to live happily somewhere else? Sure! But the thing is, if they stayed in doriath Thingol was probably going to arrange a little accident for his least favorite son-in-law, and if they left doriath Thingol might well have declared war on whatever kingdom they took refuge in, so if beren and luthien had come to nargothrond to ask for shelter instead things might have been even worse.

And for beren, who’s been running a singlehanded guerilla campaign against morgoth forever, it’s actually not that unreasonable to assume that the full might of nargothrond could at least provide a convenient distraction for him to get in and steal a silmaril and then get the fuck outta there. Should he have resigned himself to being a wandering depressed bastard being fed by birds and having a price on his head instead of asking nargothrond to sacrifice many lives for his own happiness? Maybe! But like, the Elves were attacking angband anyway.

So then beren shows up and makes his request, and you gotta feel sorry for finrod because this is genuinely an impossible position. If he says no, he’s breaking an oath (which is not only srs bzns in beleriand, but also seems to be somewhat metaphysically impossible, at least I hope so for the sake of feanorian woobifiers everywhere). And it’s not only the oath; beren is the latest in a line of men who finrod has watched over for ages, a line of men who have loved and trusted finrod, and who have died for him. Since Bëor. Beren probably has bëor’s eyes or smth. He can’t say no.

But on the other hand, if he says yes, either:

a) they succeed, steal a silmaril, and bring it back to Thingol. At which point the wrath of the feanorians is going to fall on doriath, and probably nargothrond too. Right after dagor Bragollach, when things are already so fragile. Also, the feanorians currently in nargothrond are gonna be pissed the hell off.

b) they fail, and morgoth crushes them to death, and probably gets the exact coordinates of nargothrond out of them and crushes the whole realm.

But, the feanorians (Maedhros anyway) can probably be talked round more easily than morgoth. So I’m sure finrod was hoping for option a.

But THEN he breaks the news to c&c. And they can’t take it well; from their perspective, he’s setting his oath, which (presumably) doesn’t doom him to everlasting darkness if he fails, against theirs, which DOES doom them to everlasting darkness if they fail, and. well. that doesn’t seem very cousinly, does it?

It’s ALSO reasonable for the people of nargothrond (independent of c&c) to be a bit wary of their king wanting to go on a mad quest against morgoth when fingolfin JUST went on a mad quest against morgoth and lost rather spectacularly. and idk if finrod could do that much abt it, other than really guilt trip them.

(tbh it’s always seemed to me like finrod gave up real fast to c&c. possibly he figured it was actually better to involve as little of his kingdom as possible in his doom and make it so that the ire of morgoth and/or the fëanorians was focused on him and beren rather than the entire kingdom of nargothrond. and from a purely pragmatic point of view I don’t know that he’s wrong; celegorm and curufin are both good, experienced leaders, and presumably have been helping out around nargothrond anyway, and also there’s orodreth who seemed to do a fine job pre-túrin (the elves of nargothrond are remarkably gullible it must be said). granted finrod could probably have pulled Thingol into the union of Maedhros had he been around, but without the silmaril being stolen the union might never have happened in the first place. Also even if it had the union would have unquestionably still had nargothrond with finrod, which might have helped. but finrod couldn’t be expected to know that.)

anyway i think things went really wrong when c&c started making rash proclamations, and it’s interesting that curufin in particular is so passionate about finrod not going, when there was a different way: just have beren show Thingol the silmaril, then ask him to bring it back to the fëanorians, by theft if necessary. he could hardly say no to that after being helped so generously by finrod. you’d think curufin at least would have thought of that. but I think curufin was feeling so betrayed that finrod of all people was gonna leave and go after a silmaril that he stopped thinking clearly, which is something Elves and also people do a lot.

And of course when finrod throws his crown at their feet it doesn’t help. But again, pretty reasonable after they were like "if you succeed we WILL kill you and probably enjoy it. But you won’t succeed, cuz morgoth is scary and you’re all losers." And after they’ve sent him to his death, well, they’ve cast themselves as the villains of the story, and they have to see it to the bitter end. Not big on redemption and second chances in the first age, elves.

So in summary: no one was being all that evil in nargothrond, but unfortunately they were set at cross purposes by the Narrative, and neither finrod nor c&c were at their best when it came to being a Good Leader bc they were emotionally compromised, but they weren’t bad either…

And also if c&c were to be reunited with finrod in valinor eventually, I think he’d be much angrier abt curufin shooting beren than anything else. They had a point in nargothrond and might even have been playing into his master plan to go alone; shooting beren was just petty. And also a dick move considering finrod had just given his life for beren like 5 seconds ago, I mean come on guys. he ripped out a werewolf’s throat with his teeth, give his last wishes some respect.

So: the majority of the blame goes to the curse of the silmaril for fucking things up yet again, thingol for being a sexist dipshit and not listening to his wife, and of course sauron and morgoth for the whole. yknow. thing

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

Anyway I can request a part 2 to The Secrets Out? Maybe Y/N ends up pregnant at some point and she has to relinquish her championship and during the duration of her pregnancy LuFisto continues to cause problems for the reader and her little family (consisting of Isla, Christian, and their Unborn child) and it starts causing her problems and Christian helps her in every way that he can?

The Secret's out Pt 2

An: This is already long and I didn't want to make it longer so there will be another part with the LuFisto drama and how Christian helps the reader

Summary: Y/n returns to the ring after her broken nose like she never missed a beat. But everything changes when Y/n unexpectedly becomes pregnant. How will this affect not only her relationship with Christian Cage but her career in AEW?

Word count: 3115

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of injury and vomit (I think that’s everything)

Main Masterlist Charistian Cage Masterlist Pt 1 Pt 3 Pt 4

Six weeks had gone by faster than I expected and before I knew it I would make my return just in time for forbidden door. Within those six weeks I was gone many things happened, the drama with LuFisto had pretty much been settled and I was able to bond more with Isla. Christian was home when he could and when he was home the three of us would do ‘family things’. Whether that was going to the zoo, the park or just going out for ice cream. The end of June was soon approaching which meant Isla would soon be on Summer Break. Which also meant ‘Mr. Father of the year’ would bring his spawn to work if he wanted to.

Since I had been spending the majority of 5 weeks with just Isla I wanted to make the last week of our bonding time special before I had to go back to work. She had just finished school so I thought now would be a perfect time for us to go on a little trip just the two of us to celebrate a successful school year. Isla picked on Florida and since I have a home in Ft. Lauderdale I thought it would be a perfect fit. 

Although the trip would only be 3 days since I had to arrive in Chicago on Tuesday to make my return we made the best of it. The first day we arrived we spent at the beach building sand castles, walking on the boardwalk, going shopping in the cute stores by the beach and getting ice cream. By the end of the day we were exhausted, Isla even fell asleep in the car ride home. As much as I wanted to let her sleep she needed to wash off all of the sand. As I carried her from the car to the house I couldn't help the warm feeling I had. I know she is not my biological child but within these past weeks I couldn't help but feel like she was. Earlier today when we were on the beach an old lady came up to me and said how I was a good mother for taking her daughter for a fun beach day. I didn’t even correct her, I just thanked the lady and wished her a good day. From a far glance I guess we could be related. We both had blond hair, Isla had blue eyes while mine were green but you could tell that she was Christian Cage’s daughter. 

The second and third day of the trip also went well. We did lots of shopping, spent time at the pool, went to the park, and the fair just so happened to be in town so of course we had to go. Soon enough I was on a flight to Chicago to make my appearance on Dynamite the week before forbidden door. 

****

Wednesday

Since I had gone straight from Florida to Chicago I had Isla with me. Christian was also at Dynamite so he was excited to show his daughter all around the arena. It felt a bit weird to be back mostly because of the terms I felt on. Leaving with a broken nose and drama only to be welcomed back with smiling faces that were glad to have me back. 

“Good to see ya back friend” said a familiar voice who gave me a hug from behind. When I turned around I noticed that the familiar voice was Willow Nightingale. “Oh Hi Willow!” I told her with a sigh of relief. “You gave me a heart attack” “Sorry” she apologized “Are you still on edge about what happened?” Of course she had to ask that question. The truth was although the ‘gosip’ died down it still had me feeling on edge. The photo of Isla Christian and I walking on the boardwalk of the beach by our house haunting me. I still felt like I was being watched but unsure by who. “I guess you could say that” Willow looked at me with a sympathetic look. “Ya know what It’s fine, I’m fine” that was a lie “ This is the kind of stuff you sign up for” I told her, trying my best to sound un bothered by the situation even though I knew she knew I was lying. 

“Okay, then. You know the plan for tonight?” Willow asked. “Yep, see you soon!” 

I was a bit upset since this storyline would be a bit rushed but the plan for forbidden door was for me to put my ROH women's championship on the line against Willow who currently held the NJPW Strong Women's Championship. Regardless we would put on a great performance, in the meantime I had to get ready for the show. 

***

The time had come, everything was finalized and 10 minutes from now I would make my return. 

“You ready?” Christian asked me “Hopefully, I’m a bit nervous” I told him truthfully “I’m sure you will be fine!” I gave him a smile before mouthing him a thank you for his support during my six weeks off. Just then I felt a tug on my shirt. When I looked I saw Isla holding something behind her back. “Yes” I told her “I made you something” Isla then revealed what she was hiding behind her back, it was a beaded bracelet. “You made this for me! That's so sweet! I am definitely going to wear this tonight!!” As she handed me the bracelet I couldn't help but stop in my tracks as I realized what it said. “Do you like it?” Isla asked me “Yeah…I love it” The bracelet had purple, pink and white heart beads. In the center it had three letter beads that read ‘Mom”. Christian noticed the bracelet and asked Isla what it said. “It says Mom. You are my new Mom right Y/n?” Mom, that was the first time she had ever called me something even close to that before. Unsure what to say I looked at Christian who offered a big smile. “I guess so, you can call me whatever you want okay?” “Okay!” She then gave me a big hug!

*** 

All out 2023

I have been officially back for a few months now and since then I have had 4 successful title defenses. Forbidden Door, Blood and Guts, ROH Death Before Dishonor and All In. All of the matches had gone quite well for the most part. At Death Before Dishonor I took a hard fall on my shoulder and needed to be on some medication. It was nothing a little KT Tape and Phiso couldn't fix. Tonight is All Out in Chicago and I’m currently waiting to see if I am medically cleared. Physically I felt fine but I guess one of the backstage doctors didn’t like the sight of my still bruised shoulder from All In. My opponent at All In was Athena, she was aware of the former injury to my right shoulder so like any good wrestler she used it to her advantage, targeting the shoulder in an attempt to secure the victory. Unfortunately for her it didn’t work and I retained my title. I wasn’t booked for the show tonight, which was fine but I would be accompanying Kris to the ring for her match against Ruby Soho. The outcasts are known for trouble and no way I was going to let them cheat and win. 

“I’m sure everything is going to be fine Y/n” Kris was kind enough to wait with me for the doctor even tho she had a big match tonight “I really hope so Kris, I don’t need another injury”   A few minutes went by and the doctor came out “Ms. Y/l/n” Shit, moment of truth. Kris held my hand as we awaited whatever news lied ahead.

“Your Pregnant” I felt my stomach drop. “What? That has to be some kind of mistake, there is no way I’m pregnant” I yelled at the doctor. “Well Ms. we ran a bunch of tests and your shoulder is fine but according to your blood you are pregnant. It is mandatory we run pregnancy tests through blood with every patient” I looked at Kris who was in shock just like me. “Would you like to know your options?” The doctor asked me. “What am I going to do?” I let out almost in a whisper. How irresponsible is this, the champ getting knocked up during one of the most historical reigns. I didn’t even want to think about what Christians reaction was going to be. “Well Ms. I can tell that this is a shock. I can go through methods of termination if you are interested” The doctor offered handing me a pamphlet. “Y/n, I really think you should talk to Christian before you make any decisions. This is his baby too and he deserves a right to know even if you decide not to keep it” Kris told me. She was right, Christian needed to know and I will tell him at some point. 

The PPV went well, Luchasaurus would retain the TNT championship against Darby Allin and Kris would defeat Ruby Soho to keep her TBS championship. I sat backstage with my friends watching the event trying to have a good time but I couldn't stop thinking about what that doctor told me. I didn’t want to tell Christian never mind my boss but I should have known he would find out about it sooner rather than later. “Y/n, Tony would like to see you in his office” Shit

I walked into the office terrified, how was I going to explain to my boss that his golden goose got knocked up. “Take a seat” I sat nervously 

“So, I spoke with the doctor” I said nothing. Partially because I had no idea what to say and the other part being embarrassed. “Is it true that you are pregnant?” He asked 

“Look Tony, I am really sorry. There must be some kind of mistake, I promise you I am a responsible adult. I feel fine, promise, but they told me that they ran a mandatory pregnancy test with my blood and it came back positive. I really don’t know what to do or say. Only Kris and now you know. I haven’t even told Christian yet.” 

He said nothing, he just wrote something down on a piece of paper. 

“Look, I know this is not an ideal situation for anyone. I’m not going to say anything ok. I’m sure you and I both know that the media is going to have a field day with this one. I think we should continue with the press conference as normal and if anyone asks about your ring status say you are waiting to get cleared. After that you should talk to Christian, see a doctor and we can go from there. We can always say you had to relinquish due to injury” The relationship between Tony and I had always been a bit different than others. I had been in AEW since day one and due to my extremely close relationship with the Elite I even became a producer for AEW along with doing my part to elevate the women's division in any way I can. Tony and I were actually friends so even though I knew him and he knew me he was still my boss and this conversation was uncomfortable on both ends. 

***** *Kris: You have to tell him at some point *Y/n: I know but it’s not the time *Kris: Y/n, If you don’t tell him soon I will just tell him *Y/n: Okay I will geez, not too sure how he will react to being a Father again at 50

The past few days had looked the same, Kris and I texting back and forth. Her trying to encourage me to tell Christian and me being too scared. I had been close on more than one occasion but the words wouldn't come out. I’m pretty sure Christian is starting to catch on too. 

After All Out the two of us went for dinner and when I didn’t have a drink with my meal Christian’s suspension started to grow. “So, what are we drinking tonight? I don’t feel like champagne, we could do a nice red or just grab a bunch of drinks? Vodka soda, that’s your favorite?” How was I about to explain that I would not be drinking, I mean I may or may not have a drinking problem. “Um, I think I’m not going to have a drink tonight” Christian looked at me with a shocked expression “Are you feeling alright? What happened to Y/n?” He said jokingly. I, however, was not laughing. “I’m fine, I just don’t feel like having a drink tonight.” I said a slight edge in my voice that I didn't mean to happen. “Alright then, I’m still getting a bottle of red if you change your mind” 

I knew I had to tell Christian, tomorrow was Dynamite and Tony needed answers. I went to the store and grabbed a few pregnancy tests. I knew I was pregnant but I needed to see it in order to really believe it, it’s one thing for someone to say you are pregnant but another to see a positive test in the flesh. Christian went out to grab a few things so I knew now would be a good time to get it over with. It wasn’t like I had never taken a pregnancy test before, I knew how they worked but I found myself sitting on the bathroom floor reading the instructions carefully to make sure I had done everything correctly. I peed in a cup then let the test soak in the cup for about 30 seconds before leaving it to sit for another 5 minutes to show the result. Those 5 minutes were the longest 5 minutes of my life. I looked at the test and of course it had two lines meaning I was pregnant. Of course I was in denial, so I took three more. I had bought four different kinds, the generic ones with two lines and the fancy digital ones. So far it wasn’t looking so good. Three tests had came back positive. Now I waited for the digital, *3-6 weeks pregnant*. 

This didn’t make sense? If I was at least 3 weeks pregnant that would mean that I wrestled All In pregnant? That match against Athena had been brutal, I got put through a dam table. How could a fetus survive that? I could feel my throat tighten as tears started to fall from my eyes. Just then I threw up. 

Christian’s pov

 I knew something was up the moment Y/n returned from her appointment with the doctor. Kris went with her since I wasn’t able to but I regret not going. Something must have happened because ever since the both of them had been acting weird. In an attempt to lighten whatever happened I offered dinner after the show with Y/n to cheer her up. She was hesitant with how late it would be but gave in. Everyone needs a good drink after a hard day at work so when Y/n declined a drink I was even more suspicious. “You know I have a drinking problem right? I think I should start being more careful on what I put in my body” Yeah something was definitely up. I wouldn't say Y/n had a drinking problem but in the years I’ve known her she has never once declined an offer to get a drink. The next few days had been no different. Isla had been with her Mom so it had just been Y/n and I. Everytime I tried to ask her what happened she would push me away, something that she doesn’t normally do. 

I went out to pick up a few groceries and once I returned I found Y/n sitting on the floor of the master bathroom with tear stained cheeks. I sat next to her and asked “What’s wrong?” nothing ���If something happened the other day at work you can tell me you know” I waited, I knew she wanted to say something but was having trouble getting the words out. “You’re going to be mad at me” her words were so quiet it was barely a whisper. “Why would I be mad at you honey?” What would I be mad at? “Don’t yell, I’m sorry. I don’t know how this happened” Y/n had tears in her eyes as she spoke. “I won’t yell, I promise but I need to know what happened so I can help you” I told her carefully 

Just then she got up and handed me four items from the sink before returning to her spot on the floor. She was now fully crying and turned her back to me. It took me a minute to realize what I was holding in my hands. Four pregnancy tests, all different kinds but all were positive. “Are these real?” She turned to face me, mascara now ruined. “Are you mad at me?” I wasn’t mad but I was shocked, but I was also happy. “No sweetheart, I would never be mad at you. Especially over something like this” I gave her a hug to which she returned, burying her head in my chest as she continued to cry. 

I knew what this would mean, Y/n being pregnant would change everything. Although this was a shock I was so happy. We had never talked about having kids, Y/n was still in her prime and I was nearly 50. “What are we going to do?” I wanted Y/n to know that I would support her for whatever she decided. I mean she is making history with her current title reign and at the end of the day this is her body we are talking about. “This is your decision Y/n. I want you to know that I am happy about this but I understand if you don’t want to go through with this.” She looked at me with a sad smile. “Would I be crazy if I said I want to keep it? I still don’t understand how it happened in the first place but the more I think about it, I want to go on this journey with you Christian” I placed a kiss to her temple before saying “Don’t worry, I am going to be here with you for every second of it. We will do this together” 

[triforce-of-mischief]

Febuwhump Day 9: Bees

A teamup of LU Warriors and TBP Smith from @thatbrokenpromise by @batrogers

Warnings: description of a bee sting, panic attack

****

“No no no no NO!”

Smith had collapsed, swearing and screaming, and it took everything Warriors had to remain calm and assess the situation. He had noticed her waving a bug away, and he hadn’t thought anything of it when she flinched back from the persistent pest. Then she was falling to her knees, curling around her hand as she cried out in pain. It wasn’t a reaction that Warriors expected an insect bite (a bee sting?) to warrant, especially from an adult older than he was, but between one second and the next his companion became hysterical with panic.

This reminded Warriors, too much, of Legend. He could only hope that Smith could be helped in the same way.

“Smith, I need you to talk to me,” Warriors said firmly, kneeling beside her. “What happened?”

“It- it was a bee. It stung me,” Smith gasped.

“Okay, a bee sting,” Warriors confirmed. “I know how to help with that. Do you know if you’re allergic?”

“Don’t- I don’t know, but Chief is,” Smith whimpered, shivering so hard that Warriors put his hand on her shoulder to steady her.

“Chief’s allergic? So you know what to look for if you are, too?” Warriors asked, gently taking her hand to examine the sting.

“An- ana-” Smith’s breathing was too shallow for her to finish the word.

“Anaphylaxis, yes.”

The sting looked relatively normal from what Warriors knew; a large red welt would grace Smith’s hand for a few days, but he couldn’t see any excessive swelling. He moved his fingers to her wrist, checking her pulse. Erratic, but strong; she shouldn’t be in danger of fainting.

Smith was sobbing now, inconsolable, and Warriors’ request to touch her face went unheard. He did anyway, feeling her throat for swelling that wasn’t there. Her symptoms lined up with a panic attack, not an allergic reaction. If Warriors had judged incorrectly, it could be a life-or-death mistake- but he had seen so many of Legend’s episodes, and Smith’s reaction was lining up perfectly. Which meant that, once again, Warriors had to push aside his own discomfort to help.

Smith, thankfully, didn’t lash out when Warriors moved to wrap his arms around her. She only resisted the embrace, clinging to his arm instead of letting him pull her to his chest. It was better for both of them; Warriors kept a clearer mind, and Smith had room to breathe. Warriors counted his breaths, deep and slow, waiting for Smith to register and follow suit.

“I can’t find any signs of an allergic reaction,” Warriors said between calm, measured breaths. “You’re not in anaphylactic shock; you’re hyperventilating, so I need you to breathe with me. Even if it feels like you can’t… can you try, please?”

Slowly, Smith returned to herself. She pushed away from Warriors, grumbling and batting him away when he tried to offer comfort.

“I’m sorry,” Smith said weakly, rubbing her eyes with her good hand. “You shouldn’t’ve had to- I shouldn’t’ve-”

“You were panicking and convinced you were dying,” Warriors gently reminded her. “There’s nothing else I could have wanted to do. I’m just glad you weren’t dying.”

“Yeah…” Smith lifted her hand, wincing as she inspected the sting. “Ow.”

“C’mon,” Warriors said, offering his hand. “Let’s get back to your camp so Prince and Chief can fuss over you.”

The ensuing elbow in his side was well worth it.

[princessconsuela120]

Chapter five: Boys Don't Cry—✧

Series masterlist

Chapter Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, cursing, smoking, drinking, vomit

Author's Note: This one took a bit longer, but it's a longer post so I hope you all enjoy. The ending lowkey made me so sad.

chapter art the loml @clownfacepancakes120 & og cover by @silvell

—✧

SCHOOL, FOR THE PAST TWO WEEKS, FELT LIKE A FEVER DREAM. It was as if my whole life was taking place and school was simply a pit stop along the way. I had spent most of my days in school avoiding Stan and Kyle, and skipping class with Kenny, or Craig, or both. See, before my ultimate pregnancy, which led to the decline in my life status, Kenny Craig had been smoking buddies. Though Kenny would forever be my best friend, Craig was a close second. The monotone boy had voiced on many occasions to me that he “hated me,” but I knew that secretly meant I was his favorite person in this noisy town. Besides his beloved Tweek, who I had spent many occasions third wheeling the two without my consent. Besides, Kenny Craig and I had a special bond in the sense that I was better best friends with both their little sisters than them. Karen Tricia and I had had many many sleepovers, we even shared adorable power puff girl friendship bracelets. Me as Blossom, Tricia as Buttercup and Karen as Bubbles. We chose to go for accuracy over aesthetics.

After telling my family, Kenny had taken me to spend the night at his house, and then the next morning to meet Craig at our spot in the park so I could tell him the news. He was just as shocked as I had been, Tweek nervously stressing my future for me before having a panic attack when he realized I could no longer be his coffee buddy. Craig just looked at me in disbelief, before hugging me. His sure fire way of telling me he'd stay with me through anything, no matter what. Craig was the type of kid who never voiced his emotions, unless they were to Tweek or words of aggravation. But he was by no means the type to stand there and tell me he was there for me and always would be, so that hug meant everything to us both.

“I hate this,” I mumbled, hiding my face in my hands. “I swear I think people are staring at me.” i rambled. It was currently 7th period, only two more classes before school was done for the day, and Kenny Craig and i were skipping. We had snuck out to our spot in the park, and had been sitting there since. I sat in between the two, leaning against Kenny’s shoulder as Craig laid his legs across both our laps, laying his head against the bench's arm.

“No one is staring at you Juno, you’re being dramatic.” Kenny reassured, taking a hit of his blunt, making me sigh. I nodded, agreeing with him momentarily before turning to see Craig staring at me with furrowed eyebrows.

“Craig, stop staring at me!” I shouted, making him raise his hands in defense, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry! I’m just, how did you even get pregnant anyway?” Craig said, staring at me with the same blank high face he had been staring at me with since we sat down.

“Well you see Craig, when a penis and a vagina love each other very much..” I began to explain, a teasing expression on my face as Kenny started poking his finger through his other hand to further tease Craig. He shoved me lightly, making both Kenny and I chuckle.

“Oh fuck off. I know how babies are made stupid.” He growled, making me raise an eyebrow at him.

“Well then why’d ya ask princess?” He rolled his eyes at me, sitting up slightly in his seat.

“Because Peewee, you’re supposed to be the mature one of us three remember?” 

Peewee, a stupid nickname from a stupid boy. Ever since we were kids and would play ‘The Stick of Truth,’ Kenny and I would always be the princesses together, ruling over our kingdom. After Craig had teasingly called Kenny gay one night while we were playing for being a princess, I took matters into my own hands to dub Craig a princess too, so Kenny wouldn’t feel as gay. Craig hated it so much, only for him to end up being the gayest one in the group. I had called him princess ever since. And due to my one and only weakness being my height, he referred to me as Peewee. It really was sweet when you think about it.

“I thought I was the mature one?” Kenny asked, earning looks for both Craig and I. I fake pouted at him, patting his head as if he were a dog.

“Sure Ken, you’re the mature one.” I teased, sharing a look with the boys before we both laughed. Craig and Kenny continued on laughing, but I couldn’t help but feel my heart dip in my chest. I made awkward eye contact with Stan from across the way, he was skipping too. He was alone though, usually he’d have Kyle right beside him but he didn’t. He took a long swig from his beer bottle before making his way away from the school. I sighed, staring at where he just stood.

“Hey, Joey, I was just teasing you I swear.” Craig said, another nickname he usually called me by. Craig claimed he needed to be original. He couldn’t just call me Juno like everyone else, he needed to be special.

“No, I know. It’s okay.” I said, shaking my head to try and erase the image of my saddened brother from my mind.

“Then why do you look all sad?” He asked again, as Kenny gestured towards me with his blunt.

“Need a hit?” He offered, earning a slap on the shoulder from Craig.

“She’s pregnant dickwad.” He grumbled, earning an angry look from Kenny.

“Ow! Just cause she’s pregnant doesn’t mean we should disclud her now does it?” He asked angrily, causing Craig to roll his eyes.

“You’re a dumbass.”

“Well I’m rubber and you’re glue whatever you say bounces off of me and sticks to you.” Kenny teased, taking a hit from his blunt before sticking his tongue out at Craig.

“Okay I didn’t know we were back in the 3rd grade!” Craig shouted, and Kenny scoffed.

“At Least in the third grade you didn’t run your mouth!” Kenny shouted back, before the two boys broke into bickering. This was usually the dynamic between the two, the the bickering was always playful and full of love. Usually their nonsense bickering would end up cheering me up or distracting me,but I just sat there, staring again.

“I'm scared.” I mumbled, whispered even, barely even loud enough for them to hear. But they did, and both boys immediately stopped fighting, and looked at me with equal amounts of concern.

“What?” Craig asked, pulling away from the position he had been fighting kenny in to come closer beside me.

“What are you scared of?” Kenny asked, and Craig sighed.

“I was just kidding, I’m not actually gonna chop Kenny’s dick off.” Craig reassured, making me shake my head slightly with shock.

“Woah, what?”

“Yeah you missed about 50% of that argument spacing out.” Kenny said, both boys laughing before I interrupted again.

“No no, I’m scared for tonight I mean.” I sighed again, feeling Kenny grab my hand before I turned to smile at him. “I’m meeting Mark and Vanessa tonight with my dad. I mean what if they’re like, mean or lame hippies. Or what if they’re pagan cult leaders and want my baby to sacrifice to their god?” I rambled, shaking my head in my hands as Kenny laughed slightly.

“I don’t think they’re pagan cultists. Satanists, maybe, but hey you win some you lose some.” Kenny teased, earning another light slap from Craig.

“What if they don’t like me? What if they judge me, or think I’m dumb.” I continued on my nervous rant, now earning a sigh from Craig.

“You’re not dumb Joey.” He said softly, making me scoff.

“I’m 17 years old and I’m fucking pregnant. I’m pretty dumb.” 

“Not dumber than Craig.” Kenny said, his voice full of sincerity as I let out a light chuckle, making Kenny smile that he achieved his goal to get me to smile.

“Hey!” Craig shouted, about to begin arguing again before Kenny shushed him.

“Shut up dude, this is serious.” Kenny said, making Craig scoff and roll his eyes.

“They’re gonna love you Juno. You’re giving them a literal baby, the gift of life. And if they don’t like you it’s their loss, because you’re amazing.” Kenny said, and Craig nodded along. I could help but pout at Kenny’s sweetness, as both boys pulled me into a hug, sandwiching me between them.

“I love you guys.”

“We can come with you if you want?” Craig offered, making me quickly decline.

“Nah. My dads going and I don’t want you two trying to trick him into giving you free weed again.” We got up to go back inside, as Kenny rolled his eyes, yelling after me with annoyance.

“It was one time! One time!”

—✧

MY DAD HAD TRIED TO TALK TO ME THE ENTIRE DRIVE TO THE LORINGS. I didn’t talk back. He could tell I was nervous. We pulled up into their neighborhood and I already felt self-conscious about the fact that I was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans and not a princess gown and tiara. Their garage alone was bigger than my entire house, and their lawn was decked in flowers and bushes, not dead grass and old weeds. I didn’t fit in here, this felt very outlandish.

“Hi. I'm Vanessa. You must be Juno and Mr. Marsh.” She shook both me and my dad’s hands. “Hi. Vanessa Loring.” She continued her greeting, and suddenly I realized that she was even more nervous than I was.

“It's Vanessa, right? Is that...?” I began to tease, before my dad smiled awkwardly, interrupting before I blew this before I even walked in the door.

“Thanks for having me and my irresponsible child over to your house.” He greeted, smiling at her.

“Oh, no, thank you. Thank you. Come on in. Can I take your coat or your hat?” She offered, earning a smile as I carefully handed her my jacket.

“Wicked pic in the PennySaver, by the way.” I smiled, taking a handful of the caramel candies they had on their table, handing a few to my dad. “Super-classy. Not like those people with fake woods in the background. Who are they fooling?” I joked, making Vanessa smile, confused by my very extroverted personality.

“You found us in the PennySaver?” She asked, causing me to nod as her husband came down the stairs behind her.

“Hi, Mark Loring. I'm the husband.”

“How do you do? Randy Marsh of Tegridy weed… ha, sorry, caught myself. I am no longer a weed farmer.” My dad said awkwardly, making me smile at Mark and shake his hand as well.

“Yeah, now my dad plays with rocks instead.” I teased, earning a light shove from my dad.

“Nice to meet you.”

“This is Gerta Rauss, our attorney.” Vanessa said, introducing the other woman who was sitting on the couch. She smiled, waving at me.

“And this, of course, is Juno.” My dad introduced me, and I sent the group an awkward smile.

“Like the city in Alaska.” Mark said intrigued, but I shook my head.

“No.” I said quickly, shoving a few caramel candies in my mouth.

“No? Okay. Hon, should we sit down and get to know one another?” 

“I thought I'd get drinks. What would you like? I have Pellegrino or VitaminWater or orange juice with…”

“I'll have a Maker's Mark, please. Up.” I said, gesturing up with my thumb as Vanessa gave me a shocked look. My dad chuckled at me.

“She's kidding. Junebug has a wonderful sense of humor. Just one of her many genetic gifts. She gets it from me.” He mimicked flicking his hair over his shoulder, causing me to roll my eyes.

“So, Juno, first off, how far along are you?” Gerta asked, her voice was very flat and monotone. She could make a wicked career out of voicing those alexa robots, or maybe the siri on my phone.

“I'm a junior.” I answered without hesitation, earning strange looks from the group.

“No, I mean in your pregnancy.”

“Oh, right. Kenny took me yesterday to the doctor, and they said I was 12 weeks. He wished he could be here but uh, family emergency down at the Sodosopa.” I explained, chuckling slightly to myself as I remembered Kenny stealing a handful of free condoms from the doctors office.

“Is Kenny the father?” Vanessa asked curiously, causing me to shake my head.

“No, more of a tortured third uncle kinda thing.”

They all shared a look again, choosing to ignore my strange description before continuing.

“That's great. That's marvelous. So you're into your second trimester?” She asked, making me nod.

“Yeah. Apparently. I'm due on May 4th.”

“Great. My girlfriends tell me that the first couple months are the hardest.”

“I didn't notice it at all, actually. I'm more concerned about… When they have to put that, like, elastic band in the front of my jeans.” I explained, shuddering as the thought clouded my mind.

“I think pregnancy is beautiful.”

“Well, you're lucky it's not you.” I replied to Vanessa, sighing as I thought of how freaking hard this was gonna be.

“Let's talk about how we're gonna do this thing.” Mark interrupted, causing me to raise an eyebrow at him.

“What do you mean? Don't I just have the thing… Squeeze it out and hand it over?”

“Mark and Vanessa are willing to negotiate an open adoption.” Gerta explained, this time my dad was the one to speak up.

“Wait, what does that mean?”

“It means they'd send annual updates, photos… Let Juno know how the baby is doing as he or she grows up.”

I know it's a normal thing, and i guess when you stop to think about it it's kinda sweet…but if i have to give up a piece of myself to someone, giving away a child, as much as i know it needs to be done, is so hard. No way could I live with myself being reminded I wasn't strong enough to keep it.

“Whoa, no, no, no. I don't want photos or any kind of notification. You know? I mean, can't we just, like, kick this old-school? I stick the baby in a basket, send it your way, like Moses in the reeds?” I asked, making Mark chuckle slightly.

“Technically, that would be kicking it Old Testament.” He corrected, and I nodded with agreement.

“Exactly. Right?” I nodded with agreement. “Do you know what I mean? Like in the good old days, when it was quick and dirty.”

“Well, then we all agree. A traditional closed adoption would be best for all involved.” Gerta confirmed, and all parties nodded.

“Shit, yes. Just close her on up.” I wish I could have kept a count on how many times I elicited awkward laughs from Mark and Vanessa. It was definitely a lot.

“We would compensate you for all your medical expenses.” Mark explained, grabbing onto Vanessa’s hand nervously.

“Are you looking for any other type of compensation?” She asked softly. It was such a strange question, yet she seemed so ready to give it to me if I said yes. She seemed like such a kind soul, it was extremely admirable.

“What? No. No, I don't want to, you know, sell the thing. I just... I want… I just want the baby to be with people who are gonna love it… And be good parents, you know? I mean, I'm in high school. Dude, I'm just... I'm ill-equipped.” I explained, making Vanessa smile kindly.

“Well, you're doing a beautiful and a selfless thing for us.”

“Vanessa's wanted a baby since we got married.”

“I wanna be a mommy so badly.”

Now I was the one who fake laughed.

“You don't say.” I teased, making Vanessa smile.

“Have you ever felt like you were just born to do something?” 

“Yes. Lorde.” My dad answered, with no hesitation. He looked off into the distance as if he was contemplating his life.

“What?” Mark asked, extremely confused by his answer.

“He means Geology, that’s what he means.” I interrupted, my dad nodding along, worried he would out his secret identity.

“There you go. I was born to be a mother. Some of us are.” She said with her kind smile, as my dad turned to Mark.

“How about you, Mark? Are you looking forward to being a dad?” 

“Betcha, yeah. Every guy wants to be a father… He wants to coach the soccer team...And help out with the science-fair thing, the volcano goes off…” Mark explained, smiling awkwardly. “Yeah. All that.”

“Maybe Gerta could take us through the preliminary documents you've drawn up?”

“Sweet, yeah. Could I use the facilities first? Because being pregnant makes me pee like a Seabiscuit.” They nodded, showing me the bathroom. Even their bathroom was fancy. Vanessa’s perfume cost more than my bed. I couldn't help but take a few sprays with curiosity, before leaving back downstairs. We sorted out more legal shit, to be honest I didn't pay much attention. I fell asleep on the way home, my dad held my hand the whole way.

—✧

EVER SINCE I TOLD MY MOM ABOUT THE BABY, she had been very on top of everything I did. Every night when I went to brush my teeth, she’d make sure I took my prenatal vitamins, and check on me. Like I’ve mentioned before, I had one of the best mothers ever. But today it seemed, my bitter twin brother decided to hide the bottle that resided in our shared bathroom. I tried my best not to get mad, he already hated me enough I didn’t need to push him even further. But after searching for him for a while, and Stan refusing to answer, she had started to find it rather hard to keep back her anger.

“Stan fucking Marsh, I know you hate me right now but that doesn’t mean you can just steal my prenatal vitamins okay?” I yelled, opening all the doors to try and find my brother. My parents were out to dinner again, trying to depress after the evening. “If I don’t take these and this baby comes out as a mutant, Mark and Vanessa may sacrifice me to Satan. I’m already at a liability risk that this thing could be ginger.” I made my way over to Stan’s room, surprised to not see him inside. “Stan?” I called softly, opening the door to the garage, to see Stan, throwing up on the floor leant against the wall. I quickly rushed to his side.

 “Stan!” I shouted, feeling fear fill my body. I was completely terrified. Stan’s face was pale white, besides his eyes that were red and puffy, he had been crying. His usual barely visible eye bags were now large noticeable crescents in purple print under his eyes. It’s as if he hadn’t slept since he found out. 

“Oh god. Come here Buddy, it’s okay.” I pulled Stan over to me, taking off my jacket and using it to wipe the bit of vomit he couldn’t clean off of his face. He made a low groaning noise as I did, before his eyes squinted open slightly to look at me.

“I drank too much.”  He mumbled, burying his head into my shoulder, causing me to quickly wrap my arms around him. I looked around nervously, running a hand through Stan’s hair. It was greasy. It used to be greasy, back when he used to struggle most with his depression. I convinced him to talk to mom about getting him to start antidepressants and they had been helping him ever since. His hair had lost its greasiness, and I had started helping him take care of himself. I hadn’t seen him with greasy hair since he started the medication. That’s when I looked to the ground to see his bottle of antidepressants, filled to the top from the last 

“I know Buddy, I can tell.” I said softly, taking a shaky breath to try and hold back the tears that threatened to spill. “Just, here, I’m gonna get you to my room okay, can you walk with me?” 

He nodded as I grabbed his arm, wrapping it around my shoulder to help hold him up. We made our way upstairs to my room, I left my jacket on the ground in the garage, a reminder I needed to clean up Stan’s vomit once he was safely asleep.

“I’m sorry Juno.” He mumbled into my sleeve, hugging my arm drunkenly as he laid down on my bed. I sighed, smiling at him softly.

“It’s okay.” I reassured him, carefully pulling off his shoes. I helped him get out of his shirt, giving him a comfortable one to wear to sleep. Help him take his pants off, then pull the blankets over his body. He wanted to keep his hat, just to hold. I didn’t argue it. I started walking around the room, picking up pillows to make him more comfortable, then gently tucked him in.

“You’re mad at me?” He said, his hands going to hold his face, when he pulled away to reveal fresh tears that had slipped onto his cheeks.

“No, no Stan, I'm not mad. I need you to lay on your side for me, can you do that?” I asked, helping him to move into his side.

“Dads gonna be so mad I drank all his whiskey.”

“It’s okay, I won’t let you take the heat alone. Now do you wanna tell me what happened?” He let out another low grumble, hiding his face in my pillow. I pulled his face away carefully, a fresh cold towel in my hand as I carefully cleaned the extra vomit that was left on his cheeks. 

“Wendy broke up with me.” He winced lightly. “And, and I lost you, and Kyle. Nobody wants me anymore.” I could feel it, I could feel my heart break when his eyes met mine. His big baby blue eyes were filled with so much hurt, so much sadness. He was utterly broken.

“That’s not true Stan. And you’ll never lose me, ever.” I placed a soft kiss on his forehead, brushing his hair from his face in the process.

“I’m a bad friend.”

“Kyle loves you more than he loves himself Stan, you hit a bump in the road, all friendships do.”

“No, I am a bad friend.” He replied sternly. 

“Stan you aren’t..”

“Stop lying to me! Stop telling me I’m wrong! I’m not wrong I’m, I’m shit.” He ran his hands down his face, biting down hard onto his lip, so hard I could see dribbles of blood begin to form when he began speaking again. “I’m a bad friend, I’m a bad brother, I’m a bad boyfriend..I can’t even drink right. I’m nothing. I’m sorry Juno.” His words were incoherent, his drunkenness taking over as he laid wearily in bed. His eyes were half shut, and his mouth hung open. He didn’t know what he was saying, and he probably wouldn’t even remember this tomorrow. But I would.

“It’s okay Stan. It’s not your fault. You’re just a little bruised buddy, it’s okay. I’ll help you heal.”

I ran my fingers through his hair, neatly tucking it away from his face and behind his ears, watching as he slowly fell into a deep sleep beside me. I let out a shaky sigh, getting up to grab a cup of water from the bathroom, and a small trash bin. 

I called Kenny, asked him to bring me two bottles of whiskey and a bottle of vodka from the liquor store next to his house, and was able to quickly replace my dad's liquor cabinet and discard the bottles Stan had cleared. I cleaned up his throw up, took out the trash, including my sweater that was now covered in vomit, and mopped the garage floors. 

I laid the trash bin and glass of water beside my bed, giving Stan a few glances to give myself some comfort with his well-being before turning to go to the living room to sleep. But Stan grabbed my hand, preventing me from walking away.

“Please...please stay.” 

I didn’t say anything in response, just nodded my head, crawled into bed beside him. He quickly cuddled into me, the way we would as children. When life was simpler, and things weren’t painful, and the world wasn’t so cold. I pressed the palm of my hand gently against my closed eyes, not wanting to cry to alarm my brother in his drunken state and took a deep breath before letting myself fall asleep. Stan would be tired in the morning. I am always tired too nowadays.

[bloodlessbelmounte]

Predators and Prey

Summary:

When nightmares of your past tormentors keep you both awake, Astarion makes a very appealing offer. Revenge.

"You're not a smart man, are you? You should be begging for mercy. For a quick death. Did you hope to provoke us into gutting you?" He grabbed your father by the hair, tilting his head painfully, "Maybe you hoped I'd rip your throat out. Unfortunately for you, I have standards."

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Horror??? I guess???

Pairing: Spawn!Astarion x GN!Tav (also not specified race)

Warnings: Swearing, blood, gore, graphic torture, talk of past child abuse, allusion to attempted incest. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THESE SUBJECTS HAVE THE POTENTIAL TO TRIGGER YOU. Also please let me know if I have missed anything, I am only human.

Word Count: 3315

There were some days where Astarion couldn't rest, where the memories of Cazador still tormented his dreams. Where peace wouldn't find him in meditation. On those days, he watched you slumber. Despite not having his affliction, you had altered your sleeping habits so you could spend the nights together since he could not stand the sun any longer. 

It seemed to be a restless night for you too as he watched you toss and turn. There was the odd whimper or sob here and there, sounds he knew too well. Those were the sounds of someone who had been on the receiving end of purposeful violence. His brows drew together in concern. He had his suspicions of course, you had your own scars but so old and faint no mortal eye could perceive them, like the one that stretched across your palm diagonally. It would've been discourteous of him to let your nightmares keep their grip on you.

He placed a hand on your shoulder and shook you softly, "Wake up, love. Whatever it is, it can't hurt you now."

You woke with a start, breathing laboured as you flinched away from the gentle hand. You visibly grimaced when you saw those damned puppy dog eyes of his. You knew you had some explaining to do. You sat up on your shared bed, staring down at your shaky hands resting in your lap. 

"I'm sorry, I must have disturbed your beauty sleep." You were trying to deflect.

But he wasn't having that, "Don't be ridiculous. I couldn't sleep anyway... I..." He paused considering his words carefully, "You know I won't pressure you into telling me what's troubling you. I can wait for you to tell me in your own time. After all, I have all the time in the world. Its just... I feel you've done so much to understand and help those around you but I... don't really know about your life before saving the world and all that. If this is something I can help you with darling, I'm all pointy ears for you."

You couldn't help but chuckle at that last bit. He always knew how to make you smile. You twiddled your thumbs as you considered telling him, you may as well at this point yeah? Get it out in the open and off your chest.

"For you, it was Cazador the man who gave you unlife. For me," you took a steadying breath, "it was my own father. He was a cruel man. Unhappy with the hand life dealt him, he took it out on his family. I... lost count of the injuries I received from him. Lost a few memories too. But those I do remember... they still hurt from time to time. He... he broke my ribs once. I remember feeling them bend, hearing them crack and the wind escaping me as pain stabbed through me. My mother just stood on the sidelines and did nothing." You shuddered fighting back tears, "For the longest time I was afraid of people touching me. I would react with violence. Hit, punch, kick, bite. You name it and I probably did it. And his attacks weren't just physical, no, he knew how to play mind games too. One day he'd call me a mistake, that I was never meant to be born. Then the next... he would tell me no one would ever love me but him. Would convince me that everyone hated me. That I was the lowest of the low. I had no one to turn to. Absolutely no one. But one day, my mum finally got her arse in gear and chased him out with the help of my grandfather. She had noticed his attention towards me had started turning incestuous. " You spat out the word. "You'd think that would've rid me of him but no, until I ventured away from the town I was born in, that bastard would stalk me. Keeping up the fucking mind games. That... disgusting man was- is the reason I was so ready to help you be rid of Cazador. And why I understood when you said you wanted to be seen outside the terms of sex. You could say I was living vicariously through you."

Astarion had been silent throughout your story. You finally looked up from your hands to gauge his reaction. And my what a reaction. His face was a vision of murderous intent you had only seen a few times before in your time together. You were half worried that he might chip his fangs with how tightly his jaw was clenched. It almost felt like his eyes were burning into you.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, there just wasn't a good opportunity to with the end of the world-"

He held up a hand, "I don't want to hear apologies, not from you. Not unless you've stained my clothes or dropped another building on top of me. No." His voice became laced with a low growl, "What I want is a name and the town. What I want is to rip his guts out and choke him with them as you watch the life leave his eyes. Name it and I'll do it. It's the least I can do after you helped me." He paused, then laughed humorlessly as he seemed to realise something, "I'm glad we didn't meet sooner, love, really. If we had, you would've been my perfect victim thanks to that man."

He wasn't wrong there, all it would have taken was just the tracest amount of affection to have you wrapped around his finger. Unfortunately for you, that had happened just with someone else. But that could wait, you didn't want to bombard Astarion with your life's woes. You took a moment to consider his proposal. You had been patiently waiting for your father's death so you could dance on his grave. However, despite his lifestyle, death did not seem to be in a hurry to claim him and frankly you were tired of the paranoia his continued existence brought you. 

"I don't even want to say his name. I can take you to his house though, lure him outside... I want to empty his veins so that we no longer share the same blood."

Astarion squinted at you, "I hope that's not the reason you've been letting me drink from you this entire time." 

You hesitated, "To start with yes. I mean it was a good thing for both of us. You got your strength up and I got to feel less tainted. A win-win. And then I grew to truly care for you and your wellbeing so it became less about me and more about making sure you were happy."

Astarion looked skyward with a sigh of frustration, "You, my love, need to stop people pleasing. Don't force yourself to do something just because it'll make me happy."

"Tell that to the puppy dog eyes you give me whenever you ask. In all seriousness, I don't hate it. I'm not forcing myself. In fact I-" You cut yourself off as you began to flush.

Astarion raised a perfect brow and gave you that damned smirk of his, "Well maybe after we've dealt with your father, you'll let me indulge in you as a reward, Darling."

This man gave you emotional whiplash sometimes.

--‐---------------------------------------------------------------

It was a few nights' journey to get to your hometown, finding suitable places to sleep during the day when out in the wilderness hadn't helped either. But you made it. An odd feeling settled in your stomach when you stepped foot across the town boundaries, you hadn't been back in so long. It looked the same yet different in a way that was uncanny. Old haunts had disappeared to be replaced with unfamiliar store fronts. Though the necessities stayed the same like the messenger service. 

You passed through streets guided by hazy memories with Astarion close to your side for now, a comforting presence. As every step took you closer, your heart crept further into your throat. Never had you thought you'd see your father again. Let alone willingly. You had not long realised you'd finally forgotten how his voice sounded and now it was about to be rebranded into your memory. As your destination grew closer, you gave Astarion a nod signalling to him to get into position. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, hand hovering, ready to knock. This was really about to happen. This was the first step of being free of him. You quickly shook out your limbs as if to shake away any doubts or hesitation that wished to settle. With renewed determination, your fist rattled off an old pattern of knocks you remembered your father having done when you were a child. You stepped back as you heard movement inside the abode. And you took another step back as the man who haunted your sleep opened the door. He looked older now, much older. He had only just started greying when you were young, now most of his hair had turned that colour. His face now had deep set wrinkles, time had not been kind to him. And even from where you stood, you could smell the smoke of tobacco that clung to him heavily even when you were a child.

"Well well well, what brings you here? I thought I remember you telling me you would have no more contact with me. Let me guess, you've fallen on hard times? Failed at something as simple as earning a basic income? Not lived up to your own illusions of grandeur? Which is it?" He sneered.

You had not missed how he belittled you, thought you incapable of anything. You steadied yourself, mentally preparing the lie you concocted to draw him out. 

"No, nothing of the sort. In fact, I've done quite well for myself. I've settled down. Started a family." You purposely let the statement hang in the air.

He crossed his arms, "So you've come to declare that you'll be a better parent than I ever was."

If you had actually started a family, maybe you would have done this. Rubbed your happiness in his face. But alas, you had fallen for a member of the undead. Children weren't really on the cards for you.

"No, not at all... We're staying at a local tavern as I've come to visit all the family. I thought it would be cruel to deprave my child of their grandfather. Mum returned home not long ago so now it's your turn to meet my firstborn."

You watched his face morph from confusion to his typical smug grin, "I knew you'd see sense some day. I made you after all. Well go on, lead the way." 

It went against your instincts to turn your back to him, but you knew Astarion would act quicker than your father ever could. In fact, he must have only just stepped out of his door when you heard his surprised yell. You turned back towards him. Astarion had him pinned to the ground, one hand covering your father's mouth, the other holding a familiar dagger to his throat. 

"Not one sound. It'd be a shame to kill you before we have our fun. Nod if you understand." The ageing man nodded frantically. "Good. Well goodnight for now."

With that Astarion struck him with the pommel of his dagger.

--‐---------------------------------------------------------------

Astarion insisted you save your energy with the night's main event, so he did most of the heavy lifting. That didn't mean he didn't complain as he hoisted the unconscious man up by his ankles in the cave you had found. He wasn't complaining about you but to you.

"If there's one thing I can assure you of right now Darling, it's that his blood smells foul. Nothing like your lovely bouquet." He scrunched up his nose. "He's rotten inside in more ways than one. I'd say he'd have one foot in the grave the year after next."

That did bring you some sense of relief oddly. You concentrated on sorting through the equipment you bought with you. It was time to wake him up. Astarion grabbed a bucket of water and tossed its contents onto the upside down hanging man. He woke with a gasp and looked around. His eyes landed on you, where you were still calmly organising your tools.

"What the fuck is going on?! Let me do-"

"Do you know how many times I've pictured this moment? Mum used to ask what I would do to you if I ever had the opportunity and I had so many ideas over the years. So so many. Burning you alive. Drowning you by filling your lungs with water. Slitting your throat. All too quick when I truly thought about it. But here's the thing... my siblings and I workshopped ideas for the slowest death we could give you."

If his blood wasn't pooling in his skull your father surely would've turned paler than Astarion. 

Said vampire watched with an amused grin, approval in his eyes, "My my. I didn't know you had such a sadistic side, love."

"My favourite was my brother's idea to butcher you like the animal you are. So first, I think I'll have you tenderised to make it a little easier for me."

Astarion approached your father, adjusting his gloves before delivering a swift strike to his stomach. The sound of the impact, your father's pained cry and Astarion's satisfied smirk let you know that the vampire wasn't going to hold back.

"Should I break his ribs? I think he should know how you felt."

You took a moment to consider it, "Sure. Just don't go overboard, don't want him dying before I even get to start."

Another blow, this time a kick, was made to his chest. The cracking echoed throughout the cave and your father gasped for air, winded. You shuddered as the memories of your own injury resurfaced and a twinge shot though you. Astarion stepped back, letting the pain sink in. His hair had gotten a little unruly so he pushed it back. He was enjoying this. Maybe this was his time to live vicariously through you, after all, Cazador's demise had been quick in comparison. And then he was going back in, landing hit after hit on the defenceless man. You'd let him have his fun. 

You turned your attention to the fire you had set up, you were deep enough into the cave that the moonlight didn't reach you. You crouched down, chucking more wood on it before checking on the dagger you had lodged in it to heat up. It wouldn't do if your father bled to death before you could finish. This was the main task you had given Astarion, cauterising the wounds you would inflict. The blade was a brilliant orange, it was ready.

Astarion stopped, satisfied, "There you go love. All softened up for you."

Your father spat blood at Astarion's boots, "Of course that child would fall for a vampire," he laughed dryly followed immediately by a groan of pain, "they're nothing but a parasitic leech anyway. What else could possibly love them?"

You grabbed the boning knife from your selection, ready to begin. You'd had enough. However, Astarion had never taken kindly to those who name called you, like when Cazador called you cattle and it sent him into a frenzy. Astarion growled and crouched low so he was eye level with your father. 

"You're not a smart man are you? You should be begging for mercy. For a quick death. Did you hope to provoke us into gutting you?" He grabbed your father by the hair, tilting his head painfully, "Maybe you hoped I'd rip your throat out. Unfortunately for you, I have standards. However, you don't need both eyes to witness your last moments do you? We just need you to have at least one." 

Astarion jammed a thumb into one of your father's eyes. Your father wailed in agony and you knew his eyeball popping, its jelly dripping out of the socket mixed with blood, would be seared into your memory. Astarion stood back up, casually wiping his hand on your father as he did so. 

"I'm ready when you are, love. I'm tired of this pig's prattle."

You cut open your father's shirt, "My earliest memory is of your cruelty. I've been told that's it's a miracle that I didn't turn out like you as  you treated me like how your father treated you. And that's because I've lived to spite you. I have tried so hard to fix the damage you left in your wake. I've built a life away from you where I am loved and cared for. I am heralded as a hero yet you haunt me still." 

You walked behind him and cut the obstructing material away. You slowly sunk your knife into his shoulder blade, only stopping when you met bone. And with little sawing motions you began to separate flesh from bone. Blood welled up out the incision and painted his back. Part of you wanted to gag as you cut away, you had always been a little squeamish. With a quick flick, you pulled your knife free, along with a small chuck of skin and muscle. Astarion was there immediately with the heated blade, staunching the blood flow. The smell of burning meat assaulted your nose. Sweat beaded in your hair line as a wave of nausea hit you. This was going to be a long night but you swore to yourself you wouldn't stop. 

--‐---------------------------------------------------------------

As you continued there were times where you had to rush away to empty your stomach. In those moments, Astarion would stroke your back while whispering words of encouragement and comfort. He even offered to take over if you needed a break but you declined. You would see this through. 

You had managed to cut away as much as you could without hitting anywhere vital and your father now resembled the inverse of a pig prepped for butchering. His stomach and head was left intact (save his tongue) while everywhere else had been peeled away messily. Little muscle clung to his bone now. Your stash of Lesser Restoration scrolls came in quite useful as your father lost consciousness many times throughout the night. But his time was coming to an end. You had split so much of his blood and dawn was fast approaching. And so you sat in front of him, staring into his remaining eye. 

"I have always cursed that your blood runs through my veins. I have always cursed that I inherited any of your appearance. But today I will remedy both. We no longer look remotely alike. And now... I just need to make this blood my own."

Your father just regarded you lifeless, as you lent forward and finally slit his throat.

Astarion placed a gentle gloveless hand on your shoulder, "Let's go home, treasure, you need to rest."

You got to your feet but your knees were weak, you collapsed into his arms, "I'm so tired. So... empty. This is how you felt, isn't it? I... yeah let's go."

He ran his fingers through your hair and placed a soft kiss to your forehead, "The past is dead now, and from that, you can strive to fill your future with life. The emptiness shall pass." He draped one of your arms aroundnhis shoulders and helped you to stumble your way out of the cave's depths. The last of the moon's light felt like a blessing after the hours spent by firelight. "And love, trust me when I say his blood was never yours, if it was I would have never given you a little nibble." 

You huffed out a laugh and finally, a small smile graced your lips.

[braveclementine]

Chapter 21

Warnings: None

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own a few OCs like Elizabeth, Katherine, Stacy, and Jessie. I do not condone any copying of this.

There was a stunned silence in the group. Steve was bright red, considering that he had kissed Sharon once. Sam's eyes were wide as saucers and even Tony couldn't seem to find anything to say.

"She helped you guys and what did you do in return? You made her enemy of the state! Even after Thanos was gone, you never tried to help her!" Melody said angrily. You could almost swear her eyes were glistening with tears, though she would never admit it now. "My mother had to be on the run but look! Look at you three! Look at all of you!"

She gestured to Steve, Bucky, Sam, Clint, and Wanda. All of the superheroes that had been on the 'wrong' side of history. "You're all standing here. You're all fine. You all get to be with your soulmate! But you shouldn't be! You should be on the run just like my mother!"

"But that didn't happen until we were at least eight." You protested. "I was eight anyways. Sharon was never in your life. I don't understand-"

"Just because my parents weren't in my life didn't mean that I didn't miss them."

"But Sharon wasn't HYDRA." You protested again. You might not have ever liked Sharon- she had been a complete bitch to you when you'd met her- you knew she wasn't HYDRA at least. "Besides, I thought she was pardoned. She literally worked at Tony's Tower. She was there when I met T'Challa for the first time!"

Melody was fuming. "Yes. I know she was. But when Fury found out-"

"I didn't put them on Sharon's tail Melody." Fury said, crossing his arms over his chest. "In fact, I was quite adamant that there was no reason she should be on the run. We're still pleading her case to this day. And she's not the only Agent."

"I don't even know how Sharon and Rumlow are soulmates." Steve said, blushing slightly. "I wasn't under the impression that Rumlow even had a soulmate."

"They were, but they kept it hidden." Melody mumbled. "Especially after she found out he was HYDRA."

"Wait, Sharon knew?" Coulson asked.

Melody cursed under her breath. "I just. . ." She looked at you with pleading eyes. You just sat there.

You were so taken aback by everything. All of it. Like. . . it had been years since the bonding ceremony. And she had tried killing you so many times. And Elizabeth had been your sister and you never got to realize that. . .

There was a sudden burning in your chest, longing for Elizabeth and Rhodey. You missed both of them so much and this girl. . . this woman sitting in front of you was the reason that they were dead.

Pietro seemed to be thinking along the same lines, because suddenly, Melody was pinned against the wall, his hand tight around her throat. "You got my soulmate killed!" He yelled, his accent oozing thickly through his pain. He blinked tears away. "You got Elizabeth killed!"

Her face was turning red, but no one made a move to stop him, not even Ben. He was still trying to process everything.

"Pietro, you have to let her go." Coulson finally said. "You can't kill her. We have to take her in."

Pietro practically threw her to the ground in the middle of the living room, his eyes glazed over with tears.

She didn't do anything, just getting to her feet with a resigned look on her face. You knew the only reason she was complying was because of Little Mel in Ben's arms. She was doing this for her child. You would have done the same.

"For what it's worth," She said softly and you looked up at her, realizing that she was addressing you. "I am sorry about Rhodey. I always liked him. He was a sensible guy. I never meant for anyone to actually get killed in that attack. I really am sorry."

You said nothing as Coulson handcuffed her. He and Maria left and the rest of you sat there in silence. Wanda wrapped her arms around Pietro, leading him out of the room. Vision followed them and you were left with your soulmates.

"What the fuck just happened?" Clint muttered.

There was so much betrayal in your heart, you could barely breathe. That woman was supposed to be your sister. You had always protected her, always loved her, and in return. . . in return. . .

"Y/N?" Stephen asked in concern as you got to your feet suddenly.

"Sorry. I need a moment." You muttered, hurrying from the room. You raced up the stairs, to your own bedroom for once, and went into the bathroom.

Your knees were shaking, feeling weak underneath you as you vomited into the toilet. You were suddenly realizing just how many people had died around you- because of you. Either because they were protecting you like your adopted mother, or because they might exposed Melody- like your adopted father.

The few people that hadn't survived the Karaoke explosion. . . Elizabeth. . . Rhodey. . . Hogun. . . how many others were there that you weren't even aware of? What about the kids down the street that had died in a strange accident when they had followed Melody the entire day at school. They had told you they had a secret to tell you about your sister- and then they were dead.

Had she killed them- or had them killed? Or was it really just a freak accident where the tree that hosted their tree house collapsed after a storm?

How many?

"Pet?" Loki's voice was soft outside the door.

You didn't answer, head hanging over the toilet seat, eyes closed as you rested your forehead on your forearms.

The door opened of its own accord and Loki was sitting down next to you. A calm, slender, cool hand was placed on your arm. "You know you are not to blame for their deaths, right?"

"Then why does it feel that way?" You whispered asked.

Loki pulled you into his arms. "Because you're empathetic. It's in your nature to take the blame. But you can't possibly have stopped any of it. None of us knew Y/N. Wanda maybe if she'd really looked into Y/S/- Melody's mind, but she never had a reason to. And now that I think about it, Melody was never around Wanda much to begin with."

"I just. . ."

"Feel helpless?" He asked softly.

You nodded.

"It goes away after a while. Hearing about it at first is a bit of a shock. And then it takes a few days to set in. Then you think it's your fault- which you already do. But then you realize after some time that there truly was nothing you could do. For one thing, you were to young when your adopted mother was murdered. Not to mention you were told she was hit by a car. And you thought Y/S/- Melody was younger than you anyways. And you loved her like a sister. None of that merits fault. Not at all."

"How are you so sensible?" You asked with a small smile. "You always know what to say."

"Well the others don't say I have a silver tongue for no reason at all pet." Loki said, smiling at little. "Now, how about we go ahead and check in on the kids? I want to make sure that they are all okay after that scare. And I want Bruce to run scans on you to make sure that our princess isn't hurt either." He said, caressing your baby bump.

He held out his hand, which you took, and the two of you went to check on your children.

***

"Hey, we came to visit." You said with a small smile, setting the blue and purple flowers down on Elizabeth's grave.

Bruce had checked you before you had left. Loki's little princess was perfectly fine and it relieved the entire family greatly.

Melody had been taken to a high class facility, but Ben was allowed to visit her from time to time. You weren't sure if he would though. It had been pretty hard on him, wondering how in the world he'd ended up with someone so evil as his soulmate. Wanda had thoroughly made sure that he was innocent- he was- and you felt terrible for him.

You had already visited Rhodey's grave earlier with Tony and Thor. You had wanted to apologize to him again, laying orange tulips at his grave. And you had talked to him, filling him in about what had happened.

Now, you were here at Elizabeth's grave. Fury was the only one with you for now. But that was alright, the two of you hadn't had much alone time recently. Especially with Maria pregnant.

Fury put a hand on your shoulder as you crouched down, kneeling in front of the grave.

"You know, I always loved you like a little sister." You said with a smile, wrapping your arms around your knees. "Guess now I know why."

You looked around the cemetery before turning your attention back to the gravesite. "Your guys' daughter is doing beautifully. Wanda is helping her master her powers, now that she knows she can control water and ice like you did. And Thor is teaching her all about being worthy. It's actually really adorable, I wish you. . ."

You drifted off, choking up as tears filtered into your eyes. You wiped them away quickly. "She loves Harry Potter now. And poetry. She loves to cook, she's going to be a better cook than you one day. She told me her favorite Harry Potter character is Minerva McGonagall, but I think that's just because they share the same name. Which is your fault by the way." Your smile was watery. "Pietro and Vision are really loving her and she's really loving them. They leave next week and they're going to take her away from me. . . but I know it's what's best for her. But I'm going to miss her so much. And that's stupid, because I have my own kids too but. . . I love her Elizabeth. You're lucky to have her as your daughter. God I wish you. . ."

Fury sat down next to you, pulling you into a hug. "It's alright. You know she's watching from above."

You nodded, leaning into him. "They both are. Her and Hogun. And Rhodey's watching over me and the kids and all of us too."

"Yes, yes they are." Fury said quietly. He kissed the top of your head. You sunk into his warm embrace, the scent of old spices and comfort surrounding you.

"I love you Nick." You whispered quietly. "I'm so glad that I got you as one of my soulmates."

"I love you too babydoll." Nick Fury said, wrapping both arms around you now. "More than you'll ever know."

The two of you sat there until the sun started to set, and then he led you away from the gravesite by the hand.