#and how helpless she felt even though she tried her best

[teafiend]

[alilobsessive]

Chips in my pocket and bloodstains on my hands

The Squid game prompt by @jellyfishmoon97 has been eating away at my mind since I read it, so I made this! Enjoy! Also I have never watched Squid Games all a know from it is from osmosis back when it first came out and now.

You’ve tried so many things before this, even calling your father. The bastard hung up on you before you could even explain. Admittedly you did a poor job at it, but you had never once asked for anything from him before. Couldn’t he have just listened, but now you’re here, risking your life to save the person you love the most. The only person left in your hate filled life that matters, your son. Even if you die trying.

Tw: Unspecified terminal illness, child abandonment, spousal abandonment, violence, death, murder, minor character death, reader intentionally kills several people.

——————

You tap your foot nervously, anxiety chewing away at your very core, the phone buzzes once “come on, come on” you mumble chewing on your finger. Your face is flushed from a combination of tears and the cold, this is the last person you wanted to talk to buzz twice. But you need it, need him to answer, it’s life or death, you can’t take out any more loans, you’re going bankrupt, buzz thrice. You need him to pick up, you need to save- click “what do you want” the familiar voice says, cold and unfeeling. You haven’t talked to him in years, if you had it your way you never would. But you need his help “I-“ you choke up, you’ve practiced what to say repeatedly. But actually saying it is a completely different story, telling this man ‘my son is dying, I need money to afford his treatment’ is a lot harder than you thought it would be. “Well?” He says impatient, panic seizes through your body “I need money” you spit out and then instantly cringe. You could have definitely explained that better, it’s quite on his end so you quickly add “It’s for my-“ he cuts you off. “Of course this is what you would call me for” “what-“ “you’re just like your mother” you’re stomach drops. “NO WAIT IT'S FOR MY-“ he hangs up “… son” you stand there.

Your phone is still held up to your ear as everything finally hits you. Fear, sorrow, dread, anger, helplessness, your grip on your phone tightness, your body rigid, tears blurring your vision. You throw your phone to the ground with a loud “FUCK!” It bounces then skids on the floor, cracks forming on it. You crouch in this dirty alleyway sobbing uncontrollably. Body shaking, you can’t do it, you failed, you’re useless, your son is going to die and it’s all your fault.

You met your Wife or well ex Wife before you even left Wayne Manor, the two of you didn’t go to the same school but you hung out at the same places. The two of you had a whirlwind romance, not the smartest idea but it just felt right. You never felt more at peace with another person in your entire life. They’re your soulmate, still are even after everything. You know it’s stupid, still loving someone even after they left you and your son, but no one said emotions made sense. The two of you moved in together, got married and eventually had your son. Cecil is your pride and joy, one of the best things to ever happen to you, but he was born sick. Very sick, his treatments are costly and regular, without which he would die. Neither of you could afford it, but you didn’t give up on him, couldn’t give up on him. Dispute the nagging voice in the back of your head saying it would be a mercy to just let him die. You just can’t, your Wife could though, she had already accepted the fact that your baby is as good as dead. That you can’t save them, not with your funds. It was a constant fight with her, intel one day, she just left.

You can’t blame her, no matter how much you want to, you just can’t. Maybe in another life you would have done the same. But not in this one, you would rather die than leave Cecil behind, not like your father did to you, not like your mother did to you. Not like what everyone in your life did to you, you never want Cecil to know that pain. Which is why you went into debt, which is why you took out loans, which is why you called that bastard of a man. The great Bruce Wayne, you’re father. Which is why you're crying on the ground, the next best step is to move out of your apartment. Then you won’t have to worry about rent and can just live out of your car. You already sold anything of value anyway and not like Cecil can leave the hospital at this rate. He might never be able to, but you don’t want to think about that.

You just sit there, sobbing your eyes out as someone approaches you. You quickly turn around and pull out a knife, this is Gotham after all. “Hold on!” The stranger in an expensive suit holding a briefcase says, “I have something for you” you look at him suspiciously as he puts down the briefcase. You expect a gun, for you to be shot right then and there. Instead he opens the briefcase and pulls out an envelope, one with your name on it. He hands it over and you stare at it suspiciously, it’s thick and heavy. Whatever is inside, there’s a lot of it. “Go on” he says, motioning for you to open it. Hesitantly you do, admitting expecting to be fear toxined or Joker gassed. But instead what’s inside is money, a lot of it, quickly counting it all it's just enough to pay for Cecil’s health care for another month. Just a month, but it’s more than you could ever dream off.

Looking up at the man, your eyes narrow, “what’s the catch?” He just smiles at you, a very familiar smile. A smile of someone being polite but is internally looking down on you. “No catch” he says then reaches back in and hands you a card “for this batch at least” that caught your attention. Taking the card you look at it confused, just a few shapes and a phone number. “I’m a representative of a game show” you look back up at him, “it was originally in Korea, but it’s been doing so well we’re expanding to America. You and contestants all over the country, all of which with financial difficulties will be playing several games to win 31 million dollars. If you agree that is” 31 million, 31 million that’s more then you were planning on asking Bruce for.

But dispute this, it’s still suspicious, they were clearly watching you for a long time, a very long time. Scoffing slightly you look away “this some villain type shit?” The man’s smile drops, you let out a quick laugh “oh? It is? What is this a killing game?” He doesn’t respond, “so it is, what villain set this up? It’s the Joker right? Sounds like something he would do, maybe the rider?” He shakes his head. “No one you would know, just call the number on the back if you want in” and with that the man left. 39 million, honestly you would prefer more, but beggars can’t be choosers. Busides, you would do anything for your son.

Even if that meant killing.

Tim really didn’t want to be here, but Bruce needed someone to infiltrate these games. He had on a stupid fucking gold and diamond encrusted animal mask and the most expensive suit he owned. This was a test of every fiber of his being, apparently for decades several members of the elite from the US to Europe would take trips to Korea. These trips where to watch an event called The Squid Games, named after the annual last competition of these games. The winners would get several million dollars, the losers death. All for the elites own twisted amusement, for six days they would watch as 456 players slowly die until only one person was left. It’s horrendous, disgusting and deeply upsetting that the organizers thought he would be into this. Who even told them he would be into this? Whatever at least this lets Batman take this whole thing down. Hopefully there spy inside the games comes back out safely.

As he took his seat he spotted several people, some were clearly from the court of owls. Which makes sense, this feels like their cup of tea. But another one, he could recognize even without the mask. The man made his stomach drop, it also explained how he got here. Ra’s Al-Ghul, the demon's head of course he would be into a game like this or at the very least invite Tim here to fuck with him. Said man approached Tim, clearly recognizing him to, “it’s a pleasure to see you here” “I can’t say the same” Ra’s just hums at this. “The show's about to start” is all the man says, going over to his seat, right next to Tim’s. He wants to kill this man so bad, but he can’t. Whatever, Tim’s gaze is on the large screen, he can hear the voices of an announcer presenting and explaining things to the audience and contestants.

You were ready, prepared for blood to be on your hands, to die by the hands of others. The arrangements were made so that if you didn’t return in a week’s time you would be reported missing. You hoped your Wife would be informed, that they would learn of your passing and take care of Cecil or pull the plug. But if not you made it so he would go to your next of kin, dispute what you desire. He is the man listed on your birth certificate. Although you would prefer none of those options to go down in a winner take all game like this your chances of winning are 1/459. But because of this weather you live or die, you win. What you weren’t prepared for was it not being a killing game. Well everyone else was acting like it wasn’t, so either they haven’t realized it is or they're all psychopaths. Then again you are completely cool with killing any of them at this moment. So what that says about any of you is up for debate.

“Hay cutie!” A tall woman says as she approaches you in the waiting area. You glance over at number 123, your stance is rigid, back straight, you are ready for anything. She clearly isn’t, dispute the pure confidence she exudes. No one here is, there all mingling and talking to each other. If this was a normal game show you would be doing the same, but intel proven otherwise, this isn’t a normal game show. “What’s someone like you doing in a place like this” “I’m married” is your response, sure you had to sell your ring and sure they left you. But no divorce papers were signed, so legally and emotionally you’re still married. They instantly back off “oh shit- sorry, I’m Daphne by the way” 123 says holding out a hand. You rigidly shake it, it’s far too early to determine if making ally’s is a good idea, but you would rather not have enemies. “You never answer my question?” she says in the same cheery tone putting a hand on her hip. You sigh “Listen, you seem nice, you really do, but I'm not here to make friends.” “Sooo, medical bills?” You glance away from her “my son’s” “aww” she coo’s looking excited. “What is he like?” You resist the urge to tell her every little detail about him. For his curl to the mole on the top left of his forehead to his favorite color, he looks so much like your wife, nothing like you, nothing like your father and you love it. “He’s 4” is all you say to her. Even as she starts pestering you for more details.

Thankfully you're free from the red hard women, is constant pestering. Only to be placed next to a short man with black straight black hair, 376 smiles at you, just as friendly as the other contestants. “I overheard your conversation with Daphne! You don’t look like the family man type” you just stare at him, “I’m here for gambling debt actually, I know, I know. Oh he’s a gambling addict, he’s probably going to spend all his winnings! Heard that a million times over!” You start to tone him out as he talks about his life story. Only for 421, 176 and 321 to join in the conversation, or well up until then a one sided conversation.

The first game is simple red light green light, it shouldn’t be too hard. Then again they might want to trim the crowd as much as possible in the first game. You wonder what the most people to be killed in the first round is. But that’s not important right now, what is moving to the next round. You all run and freeze as soon as the giant creepy statue turns around. Well almost all of you, someone doesn’t stop in time, and is instantly shot dead. There it is, the kicker, several people scatter in a panic. But not you, you don’t move, standing perfectly still, you’re expression stone cold as the people around you drop like flies. Then the machine turns around again, you instantly start running. Everyone left standing finally gets it, finally realized, this is a death game. You run, you freeze, you run again, people die around you, so many people. Finally you make it to the end, just barely missing the robot’s eyes.

“THE FIRST PERSON TO PASS THE FINISH LINE IS NUMBER 7!”

Tim stares in horror, “is that?” “Oh? Are you curious about number 7?” One of the organizers asks Tim, seeing his curiosity. They then pull up their file, their older siblings file, he hears them say your name “Greenwood” the last name is different. But that’s unmistakably you, “there in 1.3 million dollars in debt, filed for bankruptcy the day before they left for the games. Most of it is going to medical debt to pay for their son Cecil Greenwood’s bills.” Tim just stares. He feels sick, he never liked them, no one in the family did. Their mother’s a traitor who can’t even be bothered to take her own spawn with her when she robed Bruce. But that didn’t mean he wished for this to happen to them, he didn’t want them to go into so much debt they needed to do this. He was aware they called Bruce not that long ago, was it about this? Did he even know? Bruce looked angry afterwards, sure he disowned them all but legally. But would he really abandon them when they needed him most? Would he? God, he hoped they caught all of that from his wire and camera.

Bruce felt his blood run cold, replaying the conversation from that day over and over again in his mind. He was sitting in his office, the anxiety of the case eating at his mind. This was something kept tightlipped even in high society, you also had been trying to call him for the past hour. It was starting to piss him off, what in god's name could you of all people want. Finally he answered the phone “what do you want” “I-“ you paused, hesitating. “Well?” He said impatiently, he wanted to get this over with, wanted to continue pretending that you and your mother never existed. A mother who he loved so dearly, who he was engaged too, who he was willing to give up being Batman for. Who one day took seven million dollars and ran, leaving him with a broken heart and a 3 month old baby. “I need money” you finally say, and Bruce saw red. He thought he raised you better than that, sure you still ran, abandoned the family. But asking him for money? After what your mother did? “It’s for my-“ but he didn’t want to hear your excuses, you being just as greedy as her. “Of course this is what you would call me for” “what-“ “you’re just like your mother” “NO WAIT IT'S FOR MY-“ and then he hung up. Yes after the call he regretted comparing you to your mother. That was cruel of him, he will admit, he knows you like her just about as much as he does and being compared to her must hurt. But he didn’t want to apologize, didn’t want to admit he was in the wrong.

If he had called back had listened to you when you needed help. He has a grandson, a grandson and he’s sick. He could help but he- he can help- he will help “Dick” Nightwing turns to look at him “me?” “Oracle and Tim are too busy to look into them, the others are taking on less important cases, so it’s your job.” Dick sighs, but looks equally as shaken up as Bruce feels. He quickly starts typing into the batcomputer, Bruce wants to punch a wall. To go in there and take the operation down this instant, but it’s far too early for that. If they go in too soon they’ll lose everything, but too late… he doesn’t want to think about it.

206 people, that’s how many are left, two hundred and six people. That a little over half of the people killed, everyone is shaken up, everyone but you. One of the people walks up at you and grabs your shirt. “YOU KNEW!” 423 screams in your face shaking you, all you do is stare down at him. What you want to do is cry but you don’t, weakness in a game like this will get you killed. “YOU ARE SO CALM! YOU KNEW! ARE YOU IN ON IT!” “Calm down” you say slowly, quickly grabbing 423’s wrist. “CALM DOWN!” “I thought the nature of this game was obvious.” Is all you say. “OBVIOUS!” Another person screams, “of course, then again I am from Gotham, stuff like this is normal” “BITCH IM FROM BLÜDHAVEN! THIS SHIT IS NOT NORMAL” Another screams, more people are getting angry, and closer to you. So, this is how you die, but before things can get violent a shot is hard. One of the guards shot at the ceiling, “ATTENTION EVERYONE” the scream standing to attention. “WE WILL NOW BE DOING A VOTE! MAJORITY RULES!” Two buttons emerge from the ground, one red, one green with a screen at the front lighting up to show the same thing with the number 0 on each side. “GREEN MEANS THE GAMES CONTINUE RED MEANS THEY STOP! EACH OF YOU WILL LINE UP IN NUMERICAL ORDER!” The two of you are quickly separated and your lead to the front of the line.

You're the highest number alive, the first choice is yours, it��s a no brainer. “WHAT THE FUCK!” One of them screams and you sigh “WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO CONTINUE THIS” you look at the crowd and glare. “I don’t want this money for me” you begin, “It’s for my son, so he can live, so he can be safe, so he can know joy, I’m willing to die for that. I’ve accepted this, I’m ready to die here for the slim chance that he can be safe. I’m willing to die for the people I love, so they get to live a better life. I don’t give a shit about what happens to the rest of you!” You huff walking over to your bunk and sitting down, you watch as one after another each person walks up and presses the button. The air is tense as it goes, red, red, red, green, red, red, green, green over and over. Until finally, finally the number shows up, Green 105 Red 101, the games continue.

Tim feels sick, in a sense it’s almost honorable how willing you are to die for your son. A type of honor, loyalty he never expected from you, but it’s awful how willing you are to throw yours and others lives away just for a slim possibility of his safety. With that, with the collective despair of the crowd the feed ends. He just stares at we’re you were on screen, sitting there calm and collected. A stoic visage that only Bruce can rival. You almost looked like him throughout the whole thing. The chatter of all those around him felt sickening, they were enjoying it, putting bets on who dies. He wants to throw up, even with all his training, even with the job’s he’s done, this is sickening.

The hospital is okay, it isn’t the best in the city but it’s not the worst. It didn’t take long for Dick to find this place, once he got ahold of your credit records he found that most of your money for the past 4 years was sent here. Bruce can’t help but feel it should be better, but with what they could find this is the best you could do. Even that might not have lasted long “Hi! Welcome to Gotham General Children’s Hospital!” The woman at the desk says then her face drops. “Mr. Wayne! What are you-“ “I’m here to visit Cecil Greenwood” she continues to look at him shocked and confused, “he’s my grandson” “he’s your..” the woman looks like she’s still calculating what he’s saying. “Okay.. you just need to sign in” the security here is shit, he signed in quickly and didn’t even need to prove he was telling the truth.

Dick is already investigating your apartment, looking for anything. They already have every person that’s in the game listed as a missing person, you included. “Why are you here sir?” The nurse asks, he sighs “their parent was reported missing and they can’t get ahold of the kids' mother. So I was called as the next of kin.” The woman licks her teeth clearly concerned. “Did you know about him?” Bruce shakes his head “not until earlier today” he hasn’t lied once in this conversation. “I see.. well.. it’s a lot” she says and then begins leading him to the room.

She lightly knocks on the door “Cecil, honey, you have a visitor” and then she opens it. There sitting on the bed, covered in wires and a ventilator is a small child, much too small to be 4 years old. He blinks up at them with tired brown eyes, and a mop of curly black hair on his head. A small hand rubs his eyes clearly having been taken a nap, “hee?” The kid blinks, squinting at him. “I’ll leave you two alone” the nurse says and then leaves, awful security. Then again, even removing one thing will instantly alert the staff. Cecil still looks at him confused “Hey kiddo” he says softly pulling up a chair and sitting down. The kid just stares “who are you?” He says each word slowly and deliberately. He smiles at him “I’m your Grandpa” it feels weird saying that, not wrong, just strange. The kid just continues to stare at him “you’re a lot younger than I expected” is all he says, Bruce chuckles at that “oh?” He nods. “Baba says you might come next week” the boy says seriously, that makes Bruce concerned. Did they already expect they were walking into a death trap? That’s something to look into later.

“Did they now?” “Ya! Baba go brrr!” He says happily, “what?” “Brrrrrr!” He claps his hands and giggles. Clearly making a joke only he can understand, “I see, you saw your baba earlier then?” “Ya ya!” He continues to clap. “Yesterday! Baba says you come if mama can’t! Do you know we’re mama is?” Cecil asks his smile not leavening, Bruce in fact does know. An apartment in Metropolis, a nice place with two bedrooms, a safe neighborhood, far away from the both of you. Like father like child it seems, the both of you sure know how to pick them. But he doesn’t want to tell the kid that “no” is all he says, the kid just starts. He expects a temper tantrum, but instead all he gets is an “okay!” As he happily flaps his arms around. “It’s okay! Baba doesn’t know either! But we got pictures!” He says happily, “oh you do?” He then drops his arms, smile slightly falling “I mean no, not on me, but they exist!” Bruce hmms. This is going to be a very long conversation. For Bruce at least, kid seems to be having a good time.

Dick stepped into the apartment building, there’s nothing much of note to it. It’s not run down, but there's nothing overly nice about it. He found your apartment with ease, he didn’t even need to pick the lock. He just pushed the door open and it went swinging, that instantly told him a completely different story. The apartment looked long abandoned, there was no peace of furniture to be seen, large amounts of dust already caked over every surface. The only exception being boxes that when he checked were filled with pillows, blankets, clothes and photos of you, your son and your wife. Sometimes all three, other times just two of you. A photo that was taken from your wedding day, a day they never got to see, from Cecil’s birth, to just you and your wife being together, even photos of just your wife. All printed, framed and stuffed away in the boxes.

Sure, it made sense to start packing things away and preparing to leave if you didn’t think you were going to come back. But the apartment has been like this for several months now, more a storage space than a home. He can only imagine what’s been going on in your brain all this time. As he was mulling this over a voice called out “HAY YOU! What are you doing?” Dick turned and saw a short balding man in his late 50’s. He looked at Dick suspiciously, he fully turns to look at the man “I’m looking for my younger sibling, they live here, but well..” he motions towards the everything in your house. “You’re related to the Green kid?” He asked crossing his arms, “yes, they haven’t been responding to any of my calls the last few days. I was getting worried so I came here to check on them.” The man just shrugs, which would be completely unhelpful under normal circumstances. “Sorry man, can’t help you there ever since the Mrs. left they're barely here. If they are it’s only for a few hours. Honestly why they still live here is a mystery to me.” Then they just leave, great complete unhelpful, with him trying to understand more about you. Just great, now he’s going to have to talk to more people.

Day two starts with a meal, you sit by yourself, the mood having completely changed. They get it now everyone is on edge, everyone is like you. Well almost everyone, 376 walks up to and sits down next to you. You barely glance at him, continuing to quietly eat your meal “this shit looks like something they would serve at high school!” He says playfully elbowing you. It does? Hu, you thought she was just exaggerating, perks of going to the best private school in the city. God you miss your wife, will you ever see her again? Hear her laugh, see her smile, the dimples on her cheeks, the way her hand felt in yours, how she beat a man half to death for making fun of you. 376 is staring at you, was he talking to you? Did he ask you something? “I miss my wife Tails” you say looking at him “what-“ you then turn back to your food “I miss her a lot” you then take a bite of bread. He looks away awkwardly, and then back at you “you uuu, are really passionate about winning” “yes, let me guess you voted to end this?” “Yes” “well” you pat him on his back, “every man for themselves” and going back to eating.

Only to discover it was a team game, fuck. A simple game of capture the flag, the losing team is killed, completely not playing, you're killed. Seriously, is the Joker involved in this? Whatever, you roll up the sleeves of your tracksuit and put on your team's colored bandanna it’s time to get this started. A part of you felt bad seeing 376 on the other side, it’s a shame he has to die. A shame any of them have to die.

Tim watched what quickly devolved into a bloody battle, anxiety turning in his gut. He did his best to watch every movement you made in the crowd. Several people on both sides having been killed by other players, both by accident and on purpose. He watched as you stabbed a man’s eyes out with your own fingers before leaving him there, joining several of your own teammates in infiltrating the enemy lines. It wasn’t you who got the flag to the other side, he wanted to scream when he heard the game was over. So focus on you he didn’t see who won, only for it to turn into instant relief as he saw it was your team that reached victory. Then horror as each member of the losing team, even those that had switched bandannas with the dead was taken, lined up, blindfolded with their own bandanna and shot in the head. One by one, as the winning team was made to watch. So concerned with your own safety he didn’t even check which team their spy was on.

“What” Jason began “the fuck” Stephane looked at the screen in horror, even after the video had long gone dark. Of course as vigilantes everyone in the Bat’s and Bird’s had seen bloodshed, had seen civilians mob. But something about this felt different, maybe it was the elites, gossiping and putting bets on the civilians forced into this game. A type of dehumanization Tim was clearly blocking out in favor of making sure you were safe. Maybe it was the fact that their own members were in this danger. But whatever it was, it felt wrong “we need to do something now” Jason says turning to Bruce. He shakes his head “we can’t” “BULLSHIT” “Jason!” Bruce almost glares at his son. “We don’t have enough information, we don’t even know we’re the civilian’s are being held right now. If we rush in we could lose all of them, every single one” Jason glares at him and scoffs looking away. Stephane puts a hand on his shoulder and gently squeezes it, looking just as uncomfortable with this situation that he feels.

You don’t sleep a wink that night, you’ve never done that before. It felt wrong, so very wrong, you can still feel the squelch of number 217 ‘s green eyes on your thumbs. One of the people who didn’t like you after the events of the previous nights wanted to get rid of you during the free for all. You could barely call any of that a team game. No one was working together, just trying to live and steal. The third day you were dead tired, 376 wasn’t there, would never be there. Now that you think about it, you never learned his name. Adrenaline was the only thing preventing you from passing out. At least you think that’s what’s happening, it feels like a blur, everything does. But this is all for Cecil, if not then why are you here? What was the point of all of this? Was there ever a point? Maybe you should just kill yourself- no Cecil needs to live. That’s the whole point of your existence up until now, making sure your baby is happy and as healthy as he can be.

This is for Cecil

When the group is being brought to a new location a hand touches your shoulder, you quickly turn around and see 123. Looking at her shocked and confused you say “you’re alive??” The woman just blinks at you. “Yes, yes I am” she says looking confused “you thought I died?” “Yes” is all you say, the two of you just continue to stare at each other, awkwardly. Seriously, what are you supposed to say to this woman? “Okay” you give her a thumbs up and a pat on the arm, “good talk” then turn away. You can still feel her eyes staring into your back, what is this woman’s deal?? She’s starting to freak you out. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry!

The guards lead you all to a different area, this place vastly different then the warehouse the rest seemed to be in. Aka they literally took you outside in the dark for some reason, once again they split you into two albeit uneven groups. You being with the smallest of the groups, very confused as you’re handed a knife, every member of your group is. 423 who is still alive and with your group looks at the guards, “what’s preventing us from attacking you with these?” The guard cocks the gun and points it at his face. He instantly backs off, “Today everyone!” A guard calls out, “The game will be playing is Man Hunt!” Oh shit.

Tim stares at the screen eyes wide, “oh shit” he wanted to leave right now, to go in there and stop this. “Each of are 10 contestants here” he motioned to the group you’re a part of, “will have 30 minutes to hunt and kill three other contestants of their choice! Of course the other contestants have the ability to fight back and kill the hunters! It’s not a fun game if they're completely helpless! If they fail to complete such a simple task, well… you all already know what’s going to happen.” They say cheerily. “Well” Ra’s the mother fucker, says clearly intrigued. “I’m sure this is going to be an interesting game” please, please Bruce, B please find them. Don’t let them become a murderer.

This is for Cecil, this is for Cecil, this is for Cecil, this is for Cecil, that’s all that’s going through your head as you watch the head start the others are given. This is what you thought the games would be, everyone killing each other for the amusement of whoever’s watching. Kinda like the hunger games, but in reality no matter how much you prepared to take a life, doing so was much harder. If you kept telling yourself why you’re here, why you’re doing what you’re doing, will it be easier? Hopefully it will, because that’s all you have most days, hope. “Excuse me?” One of the other contestants asks “can hunters kill other hunters” . The guards looked at each other and then one of them called someone. By the end of it the guard turned to look at them, “I don’t see why not” you had a bad feeling about this.

Tim gripped the arm of his seat as he watched the hunters run off. Please B, please, suddenly he got a ping on his hidden earpiece and Oracle’s voice rings through it “I found the location”

“FUCK” another Hunter screams falling to the ground, you watch as he curls up into a ball and sobs. “I can’t do this- I can’t- I don’t-“ a part of you finds it pathetic how willing they are to give up like this. But another part of you gets it, you don’t want to kill either. If this was you when you were younger, before you had Cecil, before you met your wife, you would be doing the exact same thing as him. But that’s not you, the person willing to sit and wait for someone to save you. Not anymore, there’s really only one thing you can do. You stab him in the neck, his eyes widen and blood sprays covering your hands. A gross feeling coils in your stomach, but you have to press on. You’re putting him out of his misery, if he didn’t participate he was going to die either way. Better he die contributing to your own survival then in vain.

You pull the knife out and watch it fall to the ground with a thunk, bloods everywhere, on the ground, on your hands, running down his neck. With a shaky breath you turn around and continue in your hunt. The cold wind sends chills through your body and quickly cooling the blood. Wading through the grass and bushes, careful and quiet. It was admittedly difficult, having no idea how to deal with forests. In fact you didn’t find your next target, they found you. Well technically it was 423, seriously what’s this guys deal? Sure he wasn’t the person who asked, but he seems dead set on killing you. For some god forsaken reason.

He didn’t even give you a chance to speak instantly lunging for you. Dodging out of the way, all that happened was the knife grazing your skin. Leaving a bleeding slash against your shoulder, grunting you spin around and stab them in the back, pulling the knife out. The two of you quickly start exchanging blows, both from your knifes and your own hands. Finally you’re able to kick him to the ground and stab him in the chest, he coughs and grunts in pain. “How do you sleep at night?” he coughs out “let me guess, next to your wife?” Blood trickles down his lips, you don’t dignify him with a response. “Holy shit-“ he practically laughs out “she left you didn’t she? Serves you right you cold hearted bitch-“ you stab him again, this time in the heart and with no remorse. Standing up and kicking the corpse you grunt a little, stumbling slightly. Time for number three.

Signal and several members of the Justice League kick down the door. Tim turns to face them with a smile on his face as he waves, the others around him panic, except Ra’s. Like he knew what was coming, seriously what’s this guy's deal. “Glad to see you could make it!” He calls out, “you-“ one of the Owl members began, “you're a spy?!” He gives them a finger gun, “guilty!” He then stands up and turns to Signal as a mass arrest begins. “Now, we’re are we going next?”

Continuing your hunt something felt wrong, maybe you’re running out of time? No that can’t be, they’ve been regularly calling out the time since this started. Something changed, something you’re not aware of. “7” you whip your head around and point your knife towards the voice. There is 123, why do people keep approaching you? Why is she approaching you? She’s a part of the prey group, unless she thinks she can take you, which scary. But then again not that hard, “you seem confused” “ya no shit, why did you approach me?” She takes a step forward. “How many people have you already killed?” Is all she asks, you tilt your head watching her for any sudden moments. “2” then you lunge at her, only to swiftly be kicked down and pinned on your stomach. The knife is thrown away from you and she pins your hands behind your back. You’re not even mad, it’s a part of the rules. It’s upsetting, this is how you die, but you already accepted you might die in these games.

Quietly waiting for death, you are rudely interrupted from your fate by the true reason you felt uneasy. Mother fucking Batman appears in front of you, cape bellowing as he does. “Starfire” he nods in greeting, “Batman” 123 says, nodding back, holy shit she’s Starfire, holy shit you tried to kill Starfire. Why is Starfire here??? “Get off of them” she stands up, “I’ll go find the others!” And is off. You scramble to stand up, almost tripping as you do so. “We’re going home” “what?” Is all you can say, you’re body shaking, “this operation-“ “you knew?” You’re voice is weak, hands balling into fists. “We’ve been planning this raid since the game-“ “YOU KNEW!” You scream, tears falling down your eyes. “I KILLED PEOPLE BRUCE! I KILLED AND HURT PEOPLE IN THIS GAME FOR WHAT!” He slowly approaches you. “FOR NOTHING! BECAUSE YOU WERE GOING TO SHOW UP AND STOP ALL THIS” he opens his mouth “NO- SHUT UP DON’T SPEAK!” He’s standing in front of you now. Taking your fists you punch him in the chest over and over “I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!” Again and again you punch and scream. Intel eventually you can’t anymore “I hate you… I hate you!” You’re body, so exhausted from everything that’s happened finally gives out. You feel like a child as he grabs your collapsing form, it’s humiliating. “I hate you!” You choke out, “let’s go home” is all he says, like you’re nothing more then a toddler throwing a temper tantrum. With a shaky breath and sob your picked up “we’re Cecil?” “I moved him to the best hospital in the city yesterday, don’t worry” you sniffle “I want to see him” “soon” is all he says. You give him one last weak punch before everything goes black.

——————

Reader towards their wife: Once we’re undoomed from the narrative the marriage is BACK ON!

There was another version of this fic we’re Dick finds are Wife and then the two go on a road trip to save Reader’s sorry ass. It ends with reader and wife at the manor in Reader’s old room. There’s also another version of this fic we’re both reader and wife are in the games. Sadly neither of them came to fruition. Maybe if I make a sequel it will be more Wife focused, because god do I love that woman.

Bruce: you’re wife left you like your mother left me

Reader:

Reader: >:(

Bruce: This is supposed to be a bonding moment, why are you attacking me?

[ethereacals]

Get Well Soon

Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader Fluff

Summary; what happens when you catch a cold and can’t stop transforming into your kitten animagus whenever you sneeze, leaving the boys to attempt to nurse you back to health?

Warnings; None! i think there’s one cuss word but other than that it’s good! (; Just crazy fluffy!!

unedited, not proofread

“Does that feel any better, love?” Remus questioned sweetly, removing the cold towel from your forehead. “a little bit..” You mumbled, laying your head onto his shoulder. “I’m sorry you’re sick, baby” He pressed a sweet kiss on your forehead, “Sirius and James should be back soon, okay, bunny?” You nodded, you missed your boys, they were off at Quidditch practice so that left Remus to pick up the pieces. You always hated being sick, it made you feel so helpless and weak every time you were, and to make matters worse, you always felt guilty every time the boys had to get something for you, take your temperature, or even make you some food, but i you knew it was because they loved you and wanted you to get better, except this time, was different.

“I’m gonna go make you some tea, okay, baby?” Remus insisted he make you tea, it always made him feel a little bit better after full moons. “M’kay” You tried your best to keep your eyes open, you knew yourself, if you fell asleep you’d wake up feeling 20x worse than how you felt prior. You sniffed, feeling like you needed to sneeze, so you did, and naturally your sneezes were adorable, like a little kittens, per usual, but except this time.

*Poof!*

you were a kitten, not usual. You looked down at your tiny little paws, as you flopped over to your side, mewing softly in defeat, yet you sneezed again,

*Poof!*

and you were back to your normal self.

a quiet knock on the door, followed by your boyfriends quietly coming in, just incase you had fallen asleep.

“Lovie? you up?” a voice spoke softly, you could only imagine as your james, you poked your head up out of the piles of blankets covering your body,

“Jamie?” You mumbled, “Yeah, baby, it’s me..” He sat down next to you, stroking your arm, “You okay, lovie?” You nodded, even though you felt like shit but that was beyond the point, you were with your boys now. “Here’s your tea,” Remus handed you the cup, you sipped on it slowly. “Thank you..” you looked up from the cup, smiling softly. Merlin did they love that smile, “Would you like anything else, princess?” Sirius spoke up, hugging you from behind, shoving his face into your neck. “No, i’m okay, Siri” You put your chilly hand on the top of his head, patting it gently.

then— oh no.. not another-

“Achoo!” you squeaked

*Poof!*

You were a cat, again.

You flopped to your side again, mewing pitifully up at Sirius, embracing your embarrassment. “Aww.. she’s embarrassed for being the cutest little kitten..” James scooped you up in his hands, scratching the top of your head. “Moony! do you see this??” James squealed, he loved your animagus, he thought it was just adorable, like you. obviously you sneezed again, back to your normal self.

“S..sorry..” you apologized, feeling embarrassed. “Love.. that was the cutest thing I think i’ve ever seen” Sirius brushed his thumb over your cheek, “Don’t be embarrassed for being adorable” Remus spoke up, laying down, offering for you to join him, you laid your head on his chest as the others joined you. Remus stroked your forehead gently, wrapping his arms around you.

“Oi, Pads” James whispered, “M’yeah?”

“Is there some sort of spell that we can put on her that makes her always turn into the kitten when she sneezes?

[rokkucha]

crashing out over hiroaki nakamigawa being genuinely the best bpd rep i have ever seen in media. i’ve been in this fandom for barely 3 weeks now but he’s already come to mean so much to me as a character and i’m so so attached to him, like i will never stop being amazed by tetro danganronpa and how honest it is when it comes to underrepresented topics that are an uncomfortable reality for so many people that never really get to feel seen that way.

(impassioned analytical rambling & tons of spoilers ⬇️)

so many things that often get glossed over in fiction or get left implied are CONFRONTED in tetro, bluntly and unapologetically, while showing the consequences in a way that’s so raw but still so empathetic. especially things like the less “palatable” aspects of disabilities, like how dissociation is fucking annoying and severely inhibits your life and makes people see you as helpless when you cant even do anything about it with ojima, and how humiliating it can be to ask for help even when you really REALLY need it with kamimura. especially gendered issues like misogyny in teen girls’ home lives and being forced to grow up too quick with watari, male relationship abuse, its normalization & dismissal, and its effects on self esteem (not to mention when combined with child abuse) with yanagi, and how strong women realistically often have to become strong out of necessity (rather than just being built different girlbosses by nature) with hayashi. tsuno was also an amazing portrayal of ongoing successful recovery while at the same time one of self-imposed pressure and burnout.

then there’s some that become more apparent with outside perception, like isono getting straight up mischaracterized for being A Woman and not having enough screentime to be really understood, and sasaki. oh my god sasaki. sasaki being a victim of SA in school, then vilified for taking on a MUCH needed leadership role in an otherwise unruly group of equally scared teenagers, and fuck, of course she did some awful shit, but she was scared. all of them were. and hiroaki, her most dedicated hater, was the only one to realize that wasn’t who she truly was afterwards and empathize with her.

hiroaki specifically is such painfully and uncomfortably realistic bpd rep, but honestly? it’s a needed perspective. definitely for me, at least. a lot of the vile shit both other characters and fans say about him, real people in my life have said to me, and he’s not exactly recovery goals by any means but god dammit he is TRYING when all odds are against him and holy shit is that difficult enough as it is. he’s trying so fucking hard. i saw myself in him, a version of myself that struggled and felt how he felt, and i was rooting for him the whole time. i cried with him and i cheered when he made progress and i got emotional when someone empathized with him and was patient and forgiving like i wish someone had been with me.

what i love especially about hiroaki is how well-rounded he is in terms of bpd portrayal. he doesn’t just have splitting episodes or obsess over an fp or have super black and white views/opinions, but he also has horrible self-esteem issues that he hides behind an exaggerated ego and lashes out to hide how much he cares and feels crushing, overwhelming self-hatred because of things other people say or think. and even then, we see the less discussed aspects of more acknowledged symptoms with him too. when he splits, he feels immense remorse after. case in point, the sheer horror he felt at the end of [low talk]. he still sometimes tries to make things right where he can even though he can’t stop self-sabotaging. he has moments of kindness with multiple people to varying degrees of closeness.

and despite all this awful shit happening to and around him, he is making a valid fucking effort and god i will always defend him for that. he’s emotionally self-aware and he has goals and values and he cares about people in his life even if he’s bad at showing it. sure, he’s trapped in bad habits and a bad lifestyle, but also… he’s just a kid. he’s 17 years old doing and believing and enduring things no one should have to at that age. he’s been on his own since he was even younger too.

people fault him for backsliding in his attempts at Being Better but that is so fucking unfair, because it is never that goddamn simple. ever. you hear “recovery isn’t linear” just about everywhere, but it’s so rare to see that process explored so thoroughly in fiction and when it’s just brushed under the rug to make him out to be an irredeemable villain because it’s annoying or not entertaining enough, it’s… so painfully real.

the [stairwell] episode in particular was fucking brutal for me. i’ve been him in that situation, except instead of someone like tamba it was someone much closer to me than that. it was such a personal gut punch hearing her scream at him that he just can’t be a better person no matter how hard he tries because that’s just who he is. because he doesn’t want to change bad enough, because he’s innately selfish and cruel and evil and doomed to die alone and unloved. and he stands there and takes it while she hits him everywhere it hurts most, and while i will acknowledge tamba is just as scared and flawed as the rest of them, she says some of the most deplorable shit to him a person can say to someone until he just can’t take it anymore and proves her right. and just like that, he’s regressed back to square one again.

and tamba is never held accountable for how horribly she treated people, or even truly acknowledges how fucked up what she said to hiroaki was. it’s not even clear if she realizes the depth of it. that part is uncomfortably real for me, too. tetro is such peak fiction dude because the only reason i can’t like her is personal beef with her actions related to me and not her.

anyway i’m a shameless tetro glazer, hiroaki is my beautiful & beloved bpd princess, and everyone should be nicer to him and should also keep in mind that some of the shit you say about fictional characters you could inadvertently be saying about someone close to you as well. this fangan is doing something extremely rare and extremely valuable, and at the same time creating such a vulnerable space for people, so always be nice & be considerate <3

[lowkeyerror]

The Family Business Ch.5

WandaNat x Reader

Work Count: 1.2k

Chapter Notes: Angst, Violence

Summary: The guilt Wanda feels for missing your important milestones boils over and you're left trying to comfort her.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Dinner was over, but the chatter continued. Wanda had snuck off to the restroom somewhere amidst the conversation. Once she had finished up, she couldn’t fight the urge to go into her old room.

It was exactly the same as she left it. The light blue walls were littered with her old posters. Her bed still had a few old stuffed animals on it. Her desk was covered with post it notes, she used for keeping track of her important things.

Had she grown more than she had realized in the last five years? Was it selfish to assume that you wouldn't have?

“Something’s bothering you.”

Wanda startles at the sound of your voice. You stand in her doorway.

“Nothing, Y/n.”

You don't believe her.

You close the door behind you and fully step into her room. “You were quiet the entire dinner.”

“I was thinking,” she replied shortly.

“About what?”

She takes a seat on her bed and exhales, “A lot has changed since I’ve been away.”

You take a seat next to her, “You were gone for awhile.”

Her eyes meet yours, “I didn’t want to be. I didn't want to miss everything.”

She began to tear up. You hadn’t seen Wanda like this before. Wanda never let anyone see her be vulnerable. Her head rests on your shoulder, and she grabs one of your hands, seeking some comfort.

“Wanda it’s alright,” you try but she cuts you off.

“It’s not, I missed your graduation,” she began to sob.

You begin to internally panic, but you have enough sense to know that this is about more than your graduation. Your arms wrap around her, pulling her closer to you. She ends up straddling your lap. Her forehead lays against yours. You do your best to wipe her tears away.

“Forgive me, Y/n. Forgive me,” her cries grow louder.

Hesitantly you grab her face in your hands. Through the tears she sees the look of worry on your face. Wanda starts wiping at the tears with her sleeves.

You stop her, “There’s nothing that you missed that I can’t tell you about now. No one blames you for missing anything. I don’t blame you. I’m just happy you’re back.”

Wanda stops crying. She sniffles a bit with a sad smile on her face, “I remember that night when you came to the door.”

Your breath hitches. Her thumb follows the path on your check where the glass had cut you.

“You were so-”

“Helpless,” you finish.

Wanda shakes her head, “You are so strong. Anyone else wouldn’t have made it to the door.  I was going to say you were so pure. The world was so cruel even though you were nothing but a light.”

“Wanda-”

“Now, I’m hearing from everyone how you’re not like that anymore, that you’ve changed. I hate having to find out about you because I should know. My wife knows about how many people you’ve killed, and I didn’t even know you had fired a gun. I hate that it feels like I don’t know you anymore.”

You were taken aback by her words. Even with her being away for 5 years, you felt like she knew you better than anyone; even Pietro. Wanda had such a deep understanding of your inner workings that it scared you a lot of the time.

It took little effort to interlock your fingers with hers. You wait for her to look at you and when she does you speak, “You know me better than anyone ever has.”

“I used to,” she tries to drop your hands.

You don’t let her, “I can’t say that I haven’t changed at all, but I’m still me Wanda. I still watch reality tv as a guilty pleasure, I still eat my cheese puffs with a fork, and I still get a little antsy in the dark.”

She laughs a bit, and the sound brings a smile to your lips.  Your nerves ease as she seems to relax.

“You’re still my little krolik then?”

You blush a little but move her off your lap. You stand and hold out your hand. She doesn’t grab it, instead turning her back towards you.

You roll your eyes, “I’ll always be your little krolik. Now can we go back downstairs.”

Wanda hesitates, “Would you tell me what you told Natasha?”

“About my first kill?”

She nods lightly, “If it’s alright with you.”

You nod and sit at the desk chair across from the bed. It’s not much easier telling Wanda than it was telling Natasha. If anything, it was harder knowing how the woman had reacted in the past when you had been hurt.

“I should’ve known about this,” she’s seething, as she speaks.

“You had just lef-”

“I don’t care if the plane was mid fucking flight! I would’ve turned that bitch around!”

Before you could try to de-escalate the situation Pietro came into the room. “Is everything alright in here, you’ve been up here for a long time?”

Wanda jumps out of the bed and grabs the man by his collar. She nearly lifts him in the air, then beats on his chest. She’s moved him from the room to the hallway., You’re too stunned to intervene.

“WHY DIDN’T ANYONE TELL ME? NO ONE THOUGHT TO CALL ME? SOME JERK FELT HER UP AND SHE SNAPPED HIS FUCKING NECK AND NO ONE THOUGHT TO CALL ME?”

Pietro remains calm, his hands rest on top of hers “Wanda it was nearly 5 years ago.”

“So why is this the first time I'm hearing of it?”  The drop in her voice snaps you out of your trance.

“Wanda put him down,” Dragos voice booms in the hallway.

She let Pietro go and instead redirects her glare to her father, “Why didn't you tell me?”

“Because I knew you'd react like this. You’ve always been able to handle your emotions unless Y/n was involved,” his words only seem to anger her more.

“I’m the one that can't handle my emotions when it comes to Y/n? Are we sure about that? Because if you want to play ball I will swing for the fucking fences,” she combats quickly.

You watch as the color drains from Pietro’s face and even Dragos seems to stand down a bit.

“Wanda.” Natasha’s voice is strong as she speaks, “Let’s go, ok? I think everyone just needs a little space right now.”

Wanda doesn't seem like she’s done with the conversation.

“Y/n, sweetheart I think they're staying in your building. Why don't you take them there,” Flora suggests.

You nod, unable to speak at the moment.  You can see Wanda about to argue again so you slip your hand in hers. You don’t waste time pulling her towards the stairs. Natasha holds her other hand, clearing some of the tension from her system.

You get in the drivers seat while Natasha sits in the back with Wanda. Your brain was slightly clouded as her words sat with you.  Wanda knew something that made Pietro and Dragos cower in regard to you. You wanted to press on, but you knew she was in no shape to answer.

 Glancing at her in the rearview mirror, you could see that Natasha was whispering to her, trying to calm her. You’d never known Wanda to have a temper, but apparently, when it came to you her rage seemed unrelenting.

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst

[axiina]

PLSSS soft corio comforting reader after they get he saves her(or them idm) from the arena after she tried to say a proper goodbye to her tribute (kinda like sejanus) but maybe she gets hurt and super traumatized but hes there for her idk

If I Killed Someone for You

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x capitol!reader (gender neutral)

Summary: It wasn't supposed to end this way. You just wanted to say goodbye to your tribute, Lamina. Luckily, your boyfriend was there and made sure you didn't get hurt. Just why do you look at him differently now?

Words: 1.5k

Themes: hurt with comfort, a bit of fluff but also angst

Warnings: slight spoilers to movie and book, small changes to canon, Pup isn't Lamina's mentor, character's death, murder, a bit of trauma, blood, comforting, a bit of argument, death, overthinking, reader feels guilty about situation, referring reader as 'you'

Author's note: Lamina deserved better so you are her mentor, fuck this idiot Pup.

It was supposed to be fluff, but it came out a bit sad and traumatic. We got a soft Coriolanus, leaving aside the fact that he killed someone in the process. Enjoy!!

It was a pure act of desperation.

You just wanted to tell Lamina what you hadn't managed to do before. You had grown close to the young girl, who was horrified by what was happening. The very fact that she was in the arena, alone, without any support was driving you crazy.

She didn't deserve what happened to her. You hoped that maybe Lamina would be able to win and would be able to return home to the family she missed so much.

With each hour of the Hunger Games, her chances seemed to get smaller and smaller. For those few days, you sat like you were on pins and needles staring at the big screen at the Academy. After a while, the helplessness returned and you had to try not to cry in front of the cameras.

Lamina did not deserve it. None of the tributes deserved it. You did everything you could to make Lamina feel as comfortable as possible during the meetings and her stay at the Capitol. In the arena, you tried your best to make sure she wasn't hungry or thirsty. You didn't want her to get hurt. That, however, was not enough. Seeing a boy from her district, Treetch, joining another group made you feel anxious.

"What if they kill her? What if he betrays her…" This thought ran through your head repeatedly like a mantra.

She became weaker and weaker every day.

Your last meeting was too short. You didn't have time to say goodbye to her properly. You wanted her to know that even though you were physically somewhere else, your heart and thoughts were with her, at the arena. You had to say goodbye to her. You wouldn't forgive yourself if Lamina died without hearing a proper goodbye.

That's why you decided to see her one last time. Under cover of darkness, you crept into the arena in disguise and quietly snuck under the beam where Lamina was. Perhaps foolish and reckless, but you didn't think about the consequences. Ever since the girl got to the arena you couldn't find a place. You slept only short naps and didn't even want to meet Coriolanus, who was getting more and more worried about you.

While you were at the arena, every now and then you looked nervously around to the sides to see if anyone was coming. Lamina was surprised when you showed up. It was all surreal and you felt as if you were detached from reality. As soon as you saw Lamina you started crying. You both cried. Now the knowledge of how dangerous the arena was came to you like a powerful punch. She can't die. You don't remember what exactly you told her. You don't know if you said anything that made sense to her at all. The adrenaline made your mind kind of foggy. However, you know that it lifted her spirits. She knew you were with her and supporting her. You don't know exactly how much you were in the arena.

Everything happened so fast when Coriolanus grabbed your arm. Your brain didn't even register the fact that the boy appeared there practically out of nowhere. He looked terrified. He spoke quickly and incoherently. You only understood as he begged you to run away from there, because at any moment someone might come out of the tunnels and kill you. You were frozen with panic when it came to you. They hate the Capitol. They hate you too, and they certainly wouldn't think twice before killing you. Your fear was increased when Lamina's eyes widened in horror and only one word came out of her mouth.

Run.

Tributes began to leave the tunnels. As soon as they noticed that there were two mentors in the arena they started running towards you. Because of the adrenaline in your veins, you don't remember much of what happened next. You and Coriolanus ran as fast as you could when Coral, Mizzen, Tanner and Bobbin chased you while holding objects in their hands that could be the cause of your upcoming death.

The next scene that stuck in your mind was when your boyfriend hit one of the tributes on the head with a wooden plank. The boy fell down, and Coriolanus, without thinking much, hit him a second time. Then another and another. You looked at the body of Bobbin lying lifeless and Snow standing over him, unable to get a single word out. Your heart was raging and your head was spinning, feeling fear. You were terrified.

You couldn't tell what was the reason. The fact that you had just nearly died in the arena, or…. no, it couldn't have been that. He was merely trying to defend you. Yes, that was definitely the reason. Coriolanus is not a murderer, he was just…. he was terrified and acted emotionally. Bobbin would have killed him if Coryo hadn't done it first. Then you would have been next in line. Yes, that's what would have happened.

Both of you were injured, but at that moment it didn't even cross your mind to ask him how he was feeling. The Peace Keepers almost carried you out of there. Your parents were as terrified as you were. By the time you were sitting in your room wrapped in a blanket as your mother hugged you crying something finally hit you. You could have died. Your family would have been devastated. Your friends and…Coriolanus. Well, exactly, Coriolanus. He almost died because of your fault. Your stupidity and recklessness. Now he is injured and probably suffering, and you are not there with him. After what happened you didn't even say a stupid thank you to him.

"What were you even thinking! You could have died there! Did you even think about your loved ones? About me? What would have happened to me if you had died there? If I didn't get there in time!" Coriolanus repeated walking in circles around the empty classroom, the next morning. You had your head bent down, and tears were running down your cheeks. How could you do something like that?

Coriolanus sighed and sat down next to you, wrapping his arms around your body, pulling you closer.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't yell like that. You're probably still terrified. I was just…scared. I was scared that I would lose you."

It seemed to you that his voice cracked as the boy pressed his cheek against your head.

"Don't do that again. Don't scare me like that. If you had died I wouldn't have forgiven myself. I wouldn't be able to live normally." He whispered in your ear with a trembling voice.

"I'm here, love. I will always be until you have had enough of me. Although, most likely, even then I won't give you a break." A quiet, slightly trembling chuckle left his lips, at which you also smiled involuntarily.

"Enough of you? Never." you replied in an amused voice gently pulling away, but still remaining in his embrace. "I'm sorry, Coryo…I'm so terribly sorry for you. I just wanted to say goodbye to Lamina. I don't want anything bad to happen to her. I don't want her-"

"Shhh, it's okay." Coriolanus rested his forehead against yours and took your face in his hands gently stroking your cheeks. "It is past. The most important thing is that we came out of it alive. Lamina is also alive and relatively well, excluding the circumstances."

"Thank you, Coryo. Thank you for everything. For saving me that night and that you do not resent me for it." You whispered, trying not to cry. You nuzzled your cheek into his palm and placed a gentle kiss on it.

Coriolanus' face moved closer to yours and he gently brushed your lips with his own as if he was afraid he would frighten you.

"I am angry at you. Earlier even furious, but I love you too much to stay mad at you." Coryo gently rubbed his nose against yours and looked into your eyes.

His beautiful blue eyes. Cold, but at the same time it makes you feel at home. Eyes that yesterday were raging and at one point…full of hatred.

Your smile slowly disappeared as you remembered what happened to Bobbin.

"Do you want to talk about what happened yesterday-" you started uncertainly, but Coriolanus cut you off.

"No." His voice seemed cold and in a moment you were embarrassed and your heart beat faster. You were the reason he had to do it, and now you're reminding him of it. Maybe he thinks you are blaming it on him.

Your thoughts, however, were interrupted by your boyfriend's voice. Softer this time.

"I didn't mean to. I didn't want to do it, but it was stronger than me…Please don't hate me. I love you and I did it for you too."

His eyes were glassy and he seemed panicked. You shook your head in denial and took his hand in yours bringing it close to your lips and kissed his knuckles.

"No, you're a good person, Coryo. Nothing has changed. I continue to love you, and you only proved me during the night that I couldn't find a better one."

Coriolanus wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead.

"You know you don't have to…you don't have to be afraid of me. I wouldn't hurt you. Never."

You froze for a brief moment. It was as if he was reading your mind. How could you think that about him? He saved you. If not for him, you would be dead.

It was stronger than that. When he approached you this morning your heart was beating faster and a chill went through your body.

"It's because I love him. Typical reaction" You repeated to yourself in your mind.

Every time you felt his hands stroking your hair while you were hugging, you thought about how tightly he gripped that wooden plank with which he cracked the head of the boy in the arena. How the blood spurted onto his snow white shirt from his school uniform. And those eyes. The eyes that always made you feel butterflies in your stomach, and then they seemed so unfamiliar. You thought about how later after the situation at the arena, he tried to approach you, and you took a step back with your eyes wide open in horror.

Of course, he knew. You don't need to read minds to know that. And he was intelligent. He knew right away.

"I know, I know, Coryo. It's just…" you knew that if you continued your voice would break. Besides, you didn't know what to say. You snuggled into his neck hugging him more tightly at the waist. You don't want to hurt him with such thoughts, but they are so intrusive. You can't get them out of your head despite his reassurances, affectionate words and gentle touch. "I'm sorry, I should be there for you, and I'm making everything worse."

You whispered soaking the collar of his shirt with your tears.

His hand went to your hair gently stroking it.

"Stop, it's not your fault."

You stayed like that in each other's embrace, in silence. Words are not important now. What is important is that you are together and nothing will change that.

He will not hurt you. Yes, he won't hurt you.

[mysunshinetemptress]

F.R.E.U.N.D.E

Lil McCabe universe

Leah Williamson x Ex-McCabeReader

Georgia Stanway x Reader

Warnings: it’s short, unbelievably short but I’ve got writers block and I feel guilty for not posting so here you go.

“F.R.E.U.N.D.E.”

You hadn’t posted since before Leah’s birthday and now here you were multiple photos of you in a Bayern Munich uniform, your photos featuring the same players.

Mary Earps

Pernille Harder

Magdalena Eriksson

Georgia Stanway, G.

You were friends with Georgia. Leah’s Georgia. The Georgia you had been dying to meet but Leah had pushed it off time and time again.

Now you couldn't help but wonder if Leah had intentionally kept you apart from Georgia. No now you knew she had intentionally kept you apart from her friends. You had once though that maybe she just wanted to keep you all to herself, that she wanted to stay in a little bubble. Or perhaps she simply didn't want to introduce you to her friends until she was sure about your relationship. But now you knew it was because none of it was real, why would she introduce her best friends to a girl she was simply using.

Leah scrolls back and forth between the photos.

You squeezed in between Magda and Pernille.

You sitting beside Georgia your head resting on her shoulder as you both laughed.

You sitting beside Magda in a coffee shop across from Gerogia and Pernille.

You and Mary in Dublin, your faces on a pint of Guinness.

A candid shot from just after a match, you smiling admiring Magda as Pernille does the same to you.

You're happy. You're seen and Leah can't help but feel her heart break, they were what you desereved but she wanted to be what you deserved too.

She knew she couldn't undo the past, but she wanted to be apart of your life, she loved loves you.

Leah had tried to reach you, especially after she found out you were leaving Arsenal, leaving England, but your inbox had become full from the many voice messages she had left and you had blocked her number shortly after.

She knew trying to explain herself to you was useless, she didnt deserve to try and explain herself but she wanted needed to know you were ok, You wouldnt answer her, mary wouldnt talk to her, her own mum wouldn't talk about you but Georgia. Georgia was her best friend, Georgia was now friends with you too, Georgia was her way in.

Leah carefully crafted a message, asking how Georgia was beofre asking about you, asking if Georgia could tell you she was asking about you. As she sent it, she hesitated, unsure of what the response would be.

Only Gerogia doesn't reply, she leaves Leah on read. Leah tries again, and again, and again.

Georgia doesn't answer a single text, phone call FaceTime.

Leah watched as the days turned into weeks, each passing moment filled with a growing sense of dread. Georgia's silence was a heavy weight on her heart and with camp approaching she felt helpless as her anxiety grew.

Leah felt ill as she walked around camp, Georgia had been avoiding her at all costs, every time she approached the younger girl she got up and left the room.

Georgia had accomplished avoiding the older girl at every opportunity but training was different, you couldn’t hide at training and Leah decided this was the only chance she was going to have at talking to the younger girl.

Leah spotted Georgia across the field, talking and laughing with Mary. Her heart raced as she approached her. Clearing her throat she tried to muster a smile.

“Georgia” she began, her voice trembling slightly. “I need to talk to you.”

Georgia turned to face her, her expression a mix of confusion and annoyance. “What do you want Leah.”

Leah took a deep breath. “I-I Y/n.”

Georgias eyes narrowed as she walked over shoving the taller girl. “Don’t you dare say her name.”

Leah looked at Georgia her eyes drooping slightly. “You know.”

Georgia let out a sarcastic laugh “of course I know, how could you, I- you didn’t even tell me about her, you didn’t mention her once to me and it broke her heart all over again when she realised that you-you didn’t think enough of her to even tell your best friends about her.”

Leah shook her head. “Georgia I-please, I just want to talk to her. I need to talk to her.”

Georgia pushed Leah again this time causing the captain to stumble and grab the attention of the rest of the lionesses. “I’m not going to help you break her heart again, not when it took her months to talk to me, to-to Magda, to Pernille.”

Leah tried to grab Georgias arm “G please let me explain, I’ll explain everything, I know I’m an idiot but I-I love her.”

Georgia pulled her arm away “ You don’t do something so disgusting as that to someone you love, I love her and that’s why I’m not letting you near her, why I won’t be relying your messages to her, because unlike you I care about her and I’m not letting her heart get broken again.”

Leah felt a hand grab her shoulder turning she looks at Kiera “Come on Le.”

Georgia loves you, she cares about you.

That’s all Leah can think about, her best friend and the girl she messed everything up with.

Leah couldn’t help but flick back to the instagram post zooming in on every photo of you and Georgia together before clicking on Georgias profile and looking at her recent post.

You are in every photo, you’re wrapped up in Georgias arms in every photo.

Leah feels a knot forming in her chest with a question swirling around her head.

You can’t be, surely you can’t be.

But as she looks back at the photo of you and Mary in Dublin she looks for something more, and she finds it.

You’re wearing Georgias jumper, Georgias vintage Bayern Munich Jumper.

Leah’s heart drops. Are you and Georgia dating, Georgia said she cares about you, she even said she loves you. Oh god.

[yeet-the-chair]

The Ghost Next Door

While leaving your room to do laundry, an unfamiliar presence walks out of your neighbors apartment. While you don't recognize him, he definitely recognizes you.

Word count: 1337

Laundry day. It definitely wasn’t your favorite. Having to walk to the laundry room to hopefully find an open machine was such a pain in the ass. But usually, if the people in your apartment complex see a blind girl coming with her arms full, they’ll turn around and give you the open washing machine. Well, you aren’t actually blind. Due to your mutation, you’re able to see the aura that surrounds people. Their emotions and who they are as a person. Along with that, the rest of the world has a blue, hazy outline to it, allowing you to navigate without difficulty. 

As you exit your apartment, you hear the door next to yours open as a figure walks out. You expect to see your neighbor, Wade Wilson, but the abhorrent strange aura that surrounds him isn’t what greets you. An intimidating aura walks out of the door, one filled with so much sadness, anger, and hatred. But deep down, you saw good. He has a good heart in him, one that wants to do good. 

You noticed, however, that the aura around him had started to change. Instead of the blues and reds you saw before, hues of purples and orange appeared. You could feel him looking at you. He… recognized you? He was so confused, and now you were too. You never forgot someone, even in passing. He probably just thought you were someone else, so you decided to ignore it. Though it continued to nag at you, there was nothing you could do about it, other than go up to him and say ‘hey I know I’m blind but you look like you recognize me.’ 

Nope, no way. You were just gonna leave it as it is, even if you felt strangely drawn towards him. 

…

Logan couldn’t believe his eyes. The minute he walked out of the door and looked at you, it was like seeing a ghost. The last time he saw you was when you laid dead in his arms on the lawn of the mansion. But now, you stand in front of him, or at least a version of you, looking the exact same. There was something different about you, though. You wore red tinted glasses, and looking closer, Logan could see a scar that ran from the outer corner of your left eye, over the bridge of your nose and to your other eye. 

“Y/n?” he mumbled out. 

It was clear you hadn’t heard him, as you continued walking in the opposite direction. He couldn’t let you go again. He followed after you, speeding up as you entered the elevator, but it closes right as he reaches out. Logan’s breathing gets heavier. He finally gets to see you again, he will not let that chance go. ‘Where could she be?’

It clicks for him. You were holding a laundry basket. He books it to the stairs and races to the laundry room

… 

Okay.

There is no way this mysterious man, who just tried to get into your elevator, doesn’t know you. You felt his emotions; recognition, relief, then fear as you disappeared behind the doors. He’s trying to find you, but why? 

You began to panic slightly. Sure, you had a mutation, but you had never used it to fight before, never really even thought of it. You sensed the danger before you could even come close to it and found a different path. But now? There is no other path to take. You’re facing it head on whether you want to or not. 

As you exit the elevator, you hear the pounding footsteps coming down the stairs, while also feeling the desperation coming from them in waves. They’re almost enough to knock you down but you hold your ground. You almost make it to the laundry room when the stairs exit door slams open a few feet away from you and the man from earlier walks over and reaches to grab your shoulder. Before he can, you turn and grab his wrist, glaring at him the best you could.

“Look,” you began. “I don’t know who you are or how you know me, but let me make one thing clear. I may be blind but I am not completely helpless. I will make you hurt in ways you cannot comprehend. Do you understand?”

Sure, you couldn’t fight, but you could manipulate his emotions to be so painful he feels like he can barely move. 

Your threat seems to have fallen on deaf ears as he continues to look at you with so much longing. You can see he is full of love, regret, and despair just by looking at you. You hear him whisper your name, reaching out his other hand to wrap around your waist and hug you. Before he can though you slip out of his hold, releasing his wrist from your grip. 

“Don’t touch me.” Hurt. A new emotion made its way into the man's aura, along with anxiety wrapping all other emotions in a rope of grey and blue. You could feel the creep of anxiety begin to crawl up your back, but you pushed it away and pulled out confidence and defiance to take its place. 

Standing up straighter, you decided that laundry could wait until later and backed out of the room until you made it out of the door. Once you did, you sped over to the elevator and waited for it to open. The man made no move to follow you, seeming almost paralyzed in shock by what you said. You could feel his anxiety continue to wrap around him, tightening around his other emotions in a knot. 

A part of you felt bad. You could feel his emotions as if they were your own, and it hurt. You were mostly numb to feelings others emotions as you dealt with them every day, but every now and them one person's emotions were so strong that you couldn’t completely block them out. It would be so easy to manipulate his emotions, to comfort him and make him less miserable.

But another part of you was afraid. You had no idea who this man was, yet it seemed like he knew you. He knew your name. Was he a stalker? No, he couldn’t be. You would have sensed him, especially with an aura like that. Did you know him when you were younger? Before you were blinded and developed your mutation? It was possible, though he seemed more starstruck than you would expect an old friend to be. 

You continued to contemplate as you began to clean your apartment. You tried to focus on your music, on what the lyrics said and the emotion you could feel from them, but your thoughts kept drifting back to him. There was a strange pull to him you could not explain. ‘He terrified me earlier, but what if I really do know him?’

… 

“Don’t touch me.”

Those words replayed over and over again in Logan’s mind as he sat in Wade’s apartment. He scared you. You were afraid of him. That isn’t how it’s supposed to be. He should be making you laugh, making you smile. He didn’t want to be the cause of your fear. 

But he had to keep reminding himself that this is a different universe. While you looked like the you he knew in his world, the you here was so different. Different backstories, different lives, maybe even a different mutation? You were blind in this world, so did that affect the mutation that you got?

He wanted to learn more about you, but that would have to wait a few days. He needed to figure out how to apologize for his prior behavior and figure out how to explain his actions. Relationships of any kind are built off trust, and while he couldn't tell you the whole truth immediately, he did have to make himself as trustworthy as possible so he could tell you one day.  

first time writing lol but ive had this idea for so long that i needed to get it out

[followsfrankiep]

Haunted (Alfie Solomons x Reader)

Chapter 8 - Gods & Debts

TW: Smut, Explicit Words, Oral Sex, Mentions of substance abuse and alcoholism, etc.

Word count: 6.8k

A/N: OKAY. THEY'RE BACK. My og babies! Let me just tell you that this is MY favorite chapter of this series. Can't say the best but my FAVE for a reason. You may read this, if you're interested to know why, even if you haven't read the first 7 chapters. Letting u know that the word 'love' is overused in this chapter bc come onnnnn they deserve it after everything that happened.

Previous chapter

It had been a couple of weeks since the harrowing night when Alfie had rescued Izzy. The first few days were the toughest, Alfie had been tirelessly taking care of her, ensuring she had everything she needed to heal. He made sure her wounds were cleaned and cared for, gently icing the bruises that painted her skin, making sure she was eating, and always—always—being there when she needed him. When he was needed at the bakery, he reluctantly left her under the care of Ollie, not wanting to leave her alone, thinking she might do something to hurt herself.

She was slowly recovering, both physically and emotionally. Her bruises were fading, and her cuts were starting to heal, but the emotional scars ran deep. She often found herself lost in thought, her mind replaying the events of that night and Alfie would feel his chest ache at the sight. It ate away at him, the fact that there was something weighing on Izzy that he couldn’t fix with his own hands. Alfie wasn’t used to feeling helpless since he always found a way but, this was different. It was something he couldn’t touch, something he couldn’t fix with his hands no matter how badly he wanted to. One way he tried to help was by keeping her occupied. He wasn't wrong. He brought her to his office, claiming he needed her help sorting out some paperwork. Of course, they both knew he could manage it himself, but it wasn’t about the work—it was about giving her a moment to breathe, to focus on something other than her dark state of mind.

During the day, it seemed to help, even if just a little. Alfie couldn’t help but feel a flicker of relief as Izzy settled into work, her pen moving across the scattered papers on his desk. That desk had always been his, a space that felt almost sacred, but now, sharing it with her, didn’t bother him at all. If anything, it gave him a sense of ease. The way her brow furrowed in thought, the faint concentration on her face—these were glimpses of the young woman he knew and loved.

But she wasn’t completely lost in her distractions. Even as she scribbled away, she always seemed to know when Alfie’s temper was about to boil over. When one of his men fumbled or said something that ticked him off, her hand would slip across the desk to catch his. She’d give his hands a squeeze, her eyes never leaving the papers in front of her. It was her way of calming him down. And somehow, it worked every time.

She was still his Izzy.

But the evenings were the hardest. On the ride home, the quiet would envelop them, slowly slipping back into that dark place. At night, she’d lie with her back to him, and he’d find himself staring at her silhouette, feeling the urge to reach out and in the end, he always held back with his hand retreating. On the nights when he realized she was still awake, he’d slip out of bed without a word. Downstairs, he’d warm a glass of milk, and she’d take it with that faint, warm smile of hers. It wasn’t much, but in those moments, he felt like he was doing something.

And for now, that had to be enough.

Alfie Solomons was over the moon having the love of his life back in his arms, though it was hard to say who was more relieved—him or his bakers. The men practically sighed in unison when they saw her strolling beside their boss again, muttering silent prayers of thanks to any god that might be listening. The prodigal bear tamer had returned.

Sunday morning. They just had breakfast and Izzy barely touched hers. She just finished her coffee and excused herself to have a breather at their porch. It wasn't long until Alfie smelled the smoke of what he called "cancer sticks" from where she was sitting.

Ain't fucking eating, just coffee and cigarettes in the morning. He thought, and made his way back to the kitchen.

He muttered to himself as he sliced up yet another round her daily fruit. "Right, apples, bananas… universal fucking medicine, innit? Fruit fixes everything, they say. Fucking Jack Nelson's lucky to be rotting under ground, yet my woman's out there, sulking and staring. Hell, I can’t take it anymore."

He put his pearing knife down a clatter, and stormed out onto the porch, the plate of fruit in his hands like it held the answers to every problem in the world. "Toss that fuckin' thing away, love," he began, "this ends now. You’re gonna eat these bloody fruits, and we’re not arguin’ about it."

Izzy blinked at him, her cigarette resting lazily in the ashtray beside her, picking up an apple slice, and popping it in her mouth. "Here, I’m eating. You happy now?"

She did not have any energy to argue with this old yapper right now so she fully obliged with what he said. He's had enough taking care of her anyway.

"Better." he replied, plunking himself down next to her on the bench. His intense gaze settled on her, studying the bruises fading across her arms and the cut that was healing on her cheek. "Talk to me, love."

Whatever is going on inside her mind was driving him nuts as well. Izzy sighed, her fingers brushing against the edge of the ashtray as she avoided his gaze. "It’s not that simple, Alfie," she murmured, her voice heavy with exhaustion. "I had a plan, you know? A way to get out of this shit of a life I was born into. But now… now it’s all fucked and stuck. I can’t move forward, and I can’t go back. I’ve been away from Birmingham for so long, I don’t even know how to return."

Alfie can't believe what he just heard. It infuriates him knowing that she was still considering going back to that shit hole. His grip on the plate of fruit firming as he processed her words. "Birmingham?" he repeated with evident disbelief.

"You’re not seriously thinkin’ about goin’ back to those fuckin’ Shelbys, are you? After everything that happened—after everything we’ve been through?"

"I have to," she shot back, her dark eyes finally meeting his. "I’m almost done, Alfie. I’ve been working on this for a long time, and I can’t just walk away now. I need to finish what I started."

Alfie’s expression darkened and growled. "And then what, eh? You finish your master plan, and then what? You leave? Go back to Brooklyn? Is that it, Izzy? You just fuckin' pack up and go?"

She didn’t answer and looked away. Alfie’s chest clenched at the thought of losing her again. She already slipped out of his hands when she was just in Small Heath, now there's a probability he might not see her again if she goes back home to America. He set the plate of fruit down on the empty space beside him, his hands reached for hers.

"Don’t do this," he said softly, his head tilting as his brows pulled together, and his sharp blue eyes searched hers. "Don’t leave me again. I just got you back, love. Whatever this plan of yours is, whatever you think you need to do—it’s ain't more important than what we have, yeah? It can’t be."

Izzy’s gaze softened, her fingers curling around his as she let out a shaky breath. She was not expecting him to be vulnerable at this moment.

"Alfie," she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "Y—"

"Camden is your home, love," he murmured, his voice breaking. "Don’t go."

Alfie Solomons.

If you’d asked her a few months ago what mattered most, she wouldn’t have hesitated—her plan was everything, her purpose, the reason why she went to Birmingham. Now, it was different. The thought of being away from the man in front of her was a pain she couldn’t face. People live on borrowed time, and unfortunately, the two of them are trapped in the scarcity of it. She's decided she would rather spend what little time she had in this world with Alfie than waste it chasing something that no longer felt as important.

Her plan did matter, but Alfie Solomons mattered more.

Izzy's fingers tightened around his and her dark eyes searching his face as if trying to find the words she couldn’t quite say. It was him who plead her to stay, and for a moment, she felt the storm inside her quiet just enough to let something else through.

Without a word, she leaned forward, her free hand brushing lightly against his beared as she pressed her lips to his softly, but as Alfie’s hand came up to cradle the back of her head, the kiss deepened, feeling him nibble on her lower lip gently. When she pulled back, her eyes fluttered shut, and she rested her forehead against his, her body and mind calming down. His fingers running through her locks and, his own breathing uneven as he poured every feeling he's been holding back in that kiss.

"You’re alright... We’re alright. Just stay with me, yeah?"

"Okay," she whispered and swallowed hard, nodding as her lips found his again, this time slower, steadier, as if sealing her promise. "Okay, Alfie."

Alfie let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his grip on her hands firm but gentle. His other thumb brushed over her knuckles, and he closed his eyes, letting the relief wash over him. He pulled her closer, his arms enveloping around her. "Alright, love. You’re mine, yeah? No more runnin’ off. Just you and me." he said, kissing the top of her head.

"Now finish your fruit." He added.

-

The absence of Isobel Russo did not go unnoticed—least of all by Michael Gray.

It was Finn who had last seen her, slipping into the car of a stranger they later identified as none other than Jack Nelson. But under the terms of the agreement struck between Alfie and Tommy, the latter was tasked with keeping things in line. Like it or not, every member of the Shelby family was forced to move forward with business as usual.

Yet, as ever, that was far easier said than done.

Polly, ever the matriarch, found herself at war within her own home. Michael, consumed by rage and desperation, had taken to wrecking anything within arm’s reach, his frustration boiling over into self-destruction. It fell to Polly to drag him to work, forcing him to focus on business and away from the growing anguish of his girlfriend’s disappearance. It was an uphill battle. With his emotions spiraling unchecked and his worsening addiction, Michael was slipping further into an abyss no one seemed able to reach. Maybe it was his guilt and conscience, but her words from their last fight about her coming to Small Heath for him kept replaying on his mind, and now she's gone. He knew they were not okay, and he even asked her to consider mending their relationship.

Did she leave? Or was she taken away? Is she dead or alive?

Arthur was aware of Alfie’s involvement that night, he saw how he chased after Izzy speaking with Finn and him. Upon hearing this, Michael stormed to Camden to question him.

Arriving in his bakery, Michael bursted the door open in fury. The Alfie remained seated at his desk, leaning back in his chair with his fingers intertwined together, watching the scene unfold. His eyes flicked up, finding Michael Gray storming in, fists clenched looking ready to explode. It had only been a day or two since the night of the attack, wherein he took Izzy. He wasn’t a fool—he knew someone from the Shelby clan would come knocking soon.

Surely, he’d been waiting for it.

"Well, bloody hell," Alfie muttered, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the desk, looking amused. "If it ain’t the lad himself. You come all the way from Small Heath just to dent me doors, or you gonna use your mouth to talk, eh?"

Michael’s hands slammed against his desk, moving his face closer with his gaze sharp. "Where is she?" he hissed.

Alfie’s hand moved lazily to scratch at his beard, pretending to think hard. "Now, you’ll have to be a bit more specific there, sunshine," he replied, feing indifference. "'cause I’m sittin’ here with no bloody clue what—or who—you’re tootin' about."

"Don’t play games with me, Alfie!" Michael spat trembling in anger as his hands rattle the papers and glass resting on the surface. "Izzy. I know you were there that night! Arthur said you came after them. You know something, don’t you?"

The mention of Arthur’s name made Alfie’s brow furrowed, just slightly, though his demeanor remained calm as he leaned back in his chair again. The oldest shelby brother was indeed there, keeping him away from strangling Finn regarding Izzy's whereabouts. He tilted his head, giving Michael the slow, deliberate look of a man considering all his options.

"Now that’s a serious accusation you’re throwin’ about," Alfie said lowering his voice, his blue eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "You think I’ve got your girl, do ya? What—you reckon I’ve got her tucked away somewhere, just for laughs, eh?"

Behind Michael, Arthur entered the room with a quieter and calmer presence. He pulled the door closed behind him, muttering a curse under his breath before stepping forward. His hat was tugged low over his face, and hands inside the pockets of his coat. "Michael," Arthur barked. "Hold your fuckin’ temper, will ya? You’re makin’ a scene."

Michael rounded on him for a split second, his chest heaving, before turning his rage back to Alfie. "You went after them!" he hissed, ignoring Arthur’s attempt to rein him in. "Arthur said you went out that night—you know something. Where the fuck is she?"

Arthur exhaled heavily, his hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I saw him leave, alright," he admitted, his voice strained. "But listen to me, Alfie—it’s got to be straight with us. We ain’t here to start a bloody war, mate. Tommy’s clear on that."

These people have no idea how willing he was to go to war just for the young woman situated in his home at the moment. He's already got Jack Nelson's blood in palms, surely he could take out a couple more if needed be.

The faintest flicker of annoyance crossed Alfie’s face, and he set his palms down against the edge of the desk. "Right," he muttered while drumming his fingers. "I’ll tell you what I do know, yeah? I did go out that night. Heard there's trouble. Thought I’d see what all the fuss was about. But as far as your girl’s concerned… didn’t see her. Didn’t speak to her. Don’t know where she is, mate."

Michael’s was not at all convinced and feeling his body tense up, slowly losing his patience. "And that’s the truth, yeah, Alfie? ‘Cause if you know more than you’re lettin’ on, mate, it’s only gonna make things worse for everyone involved."

Alfie’s brow arched, and the corners of his mouth twitched upward in the faintest smirk. "What d’you want me to say, eh? I know you lot think I’m a magician or somethin’, but I can’t pluck answers outta thin air. She probably went back home... if she's still alive."

"If I find out you’re lying—"

"You’ll what?" Alfie interrupted, his voice soft but no less threatening. He leaned forward slightly, meeting Michael’s glare head-on. "You come stormin’ into my office, slammin’ my desk about, waggin’ your finger like you’ve caught me in some grand conspiracy again, yeah? Or maybe you’ll bring your cousin along to try and twist my arm, eh? Whatever you’re thinkin’, lad, let me give you a bit of advice: Camden don’t play by Shelby rules."

Arthur saw how serious Alfie looked as compared to his playful demeanor earlier. He is not one known for empty threats so his hand clamped down on Michael’s shoulder, squeezing hard enough to make the younger man flinch. "That’s enough," Arthur firmly said. "Tommy’ll want this handled clean, not with you makin’ a fuckin' mess."

For a moment, Michael lingered, his glare locked on Alfie’s impassive face. Then, with a sharp jerk of his shoulder, he shrugged out of Arthur’s grip and turned toward the door. His eyes darted around the room as though searching for something—anything—that might betray Alfie’s claim, but there's none. He didn’t say another word as he stormed out, slamming it behind him with enough force to rattle the hinges.

Arthur stayed for a moment longer, his eyes lingering on Alfie with a mix of suspicion and weariness. "If there’s more to this," he muttered, "you’d best hope you’re on the right side of it, mate. ‘Cause if you’re not…"

"Ya'll come back with some damn gypsy pitchforks, yeah? Heard it before," Alfie said, his tone dismissive. "Don’t let the door hit you on the way out, eh? Got enough trouble without fixin’ hinges."

Arthur’s lips twitched, but he said nothing more as he followed Michael out, closing the door with a deliberate finality. Alfie sat back, exhaling long and slow as he stared at the empty room. His eyes drifted toward the window, watching their car go away.

"Peaky Fuckin' Blinders," he muttered under his breath, eyes going back to the papers in front of him. He knew Michael wouldn't stop looking for Izzy anytime soon, but he isn't planning to give her up either. Not today, not as long as he lives. He'll ensure that Camden would be a safe fortress for the woman he loves.

-

Tommy Shelby was a man bound by his word. He’d made a business deal with Alfie, part of his bargain in exchange for his help with the Russians, and he intended to honor it. But there was another promise, one that sat heavier on his chest—a promise to his aunt, Polly. He’d told her he’d look after Michael, no matter how far the lad veered off course. And now, those two promises were beginning to pull him in opposite directions.

When Michael came to him, wild-eyed and desperately begging for permission to return to the States to dig deeper into Jack Nelson’s shadowy world, Tommy hesitated. He knew Michael had been searching for Izzy for weeks now and he could see the torment eating away at the boy. The grief. The anger. The helplessness. It was written all over Michael’s face, in every erratic gesture and every sharp word. And yet, Tommy’s mind immediately went to the practicalities. Losing Michael now—it wasn’t just about family, it was about the sake of the company. Izzy, her operations officer, was already gone, taken by Alfie, and if Michael left too, being the next best thing, he would be forcing the few remaining hands to work twice as hard to keep things afloat.

Tommy calmly voiced these concerns to Polly in one of their private family meetings as he lit another cigarette. He expected pushback, maybe even anger, but Polly’s focus was elsewhere. Her face, lined with worry, was fixed firmly on Michael’s well-being. "Business can wait, Thomas," she’d said with an expression of evident resignation. "You don’t see it like I do. He's my son and he’s falling apart. If you don’t let him go, he’ll drown."

He wanted to argue, but deep down, he knew she was right. Michael’s torment was beyond doubt, and his obsession with finding Izzy was pushing him closer and closer to the edge. Polly’s words replayed in his mind as he weighed the decision, the cigarette burning low between his fingers. He was reminded that Michael wasn’t just another piece on his chessboard—he was family. And when it came down to it, family had always come first. That was the Shelby way.

And so, despite his many reservations, Tommy granted the request. He gave Michael permission to return to the States.

The haunt for Isobel Russo was on.

And so, the wheels were set in motion, each family member grappling with the fallout of her absence. But in the Shelby family, nothing remained unresolved for long—and no debt went uncollected.

-

Camden Town.

Alfie would do anything for Izzy. That was never in question. From the simplest acts of peeling fruit for her to the darkest, taking a life from her past to keep her safe, he proved it time and time again. It wasn’t just about protecting her—it was about making sure she felt untouchable, like nothing and no one could harm her again. And after their long-overdue talk, where they both finally laid bare where they stood in their relationship, something shifted. As if a heavy weight has been lifted off their chests, freeing them from all the things they’d been holding back. For Izzy, it felt like she could finally breathe again. The decision that had been gnawing at her heart for so long was gone.

She chose him. No hesitation, no second thoughts—she chose Alfie.

And for the first time, she felt like she’d chosen someone who didn’t just understand her but cherished her for exactly who she was. Alfie gave her something she’d never known before: safety. Not the kind of safety you find in locks and walls, but in his presence, his touch, his love. His bear hugs would drown the constant noise running through her mind. With him, she felt warmth, comfort—something she never had growing up. She wasn’t alone anymore. She didn’t have to be strong all the time, didn’t have to fend for herself the way she’d been forced to for so long. For once, someone was taking care of her.

Alfie knew her past, the streets that had shaped her, the fights she’d fought just to survive, how she'd weaponize herself to thrive. He knew all of it, and yet it did not faze him. To the point of him saying "Why’d you go an’ say that, eh? Changes nothin’ for me, love, not a thing.". She didn’t have to hide anything, and didn’t have to prove herself to him. She’d grown up never expecting anything from anyone, and here was Alfie, showering her with a love so overwhelming that it left her speechless sometimes. In turn, she loved him for all of it—the sciatica, the witty yapping, even his old man mood swings. But mostly, she loved the way he made her feel like she was the center of his universe.

And oh, again that bear hug of his. That was her favorite. It kept getting brought up since it wasn’t just a hug—it was a promise. A promise that no matter how fucked up things can be, she had him, and he had her. In his arms, she was Izzy. And for a girl who had spent her life believing she didn’t need anyone, Alfie had shown her just how beautiful it could be to let someone in.

He wasn’t just her man—he was her home.

After practically shoving the pasty into her hands and insisting she eat every last bite, Alfie decided it was as good a time as any to take her to the synagogue. He had some accounts to settle, and though Izzy wasn’t Jewish, he figured it was only right to bring her along. Its familiar silhouette stirring something deep in Alfie’s chest. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d stepped inside these walls. Years, maybe. Decades, even. It was quiet and solemn place, smelling like old wood and candle wax, and he lead her to sit in a pew near the back. His hands rested firmly on his cane, his gaze locked straight ahead. The unusual quiet tension that radiated from him was enough to make Izzy fidget in her seat. She leaned closer, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Alfie, what are we doing here?”

He didn’t answer. Not a word. The corner of his mouth twitched—whether from irritation or some attempt at restraint, she couldn’t tell. His silence only lit a fire under her curiosity.

“Alfie,” she pressed, still keeping her voice low. “You’re awfully...solemn. It’s unsettling. What is this place?”

"Alfie..."

"Mr. Solomons..."

Still nothing. She huffed, shifting even closer, her breath warm against his ear now. "What, you’ve taken a vow of silence now? Is this some kind of elaborate cult thing you didn’t warn me about?”

Alfie closed his eyes briefly, the kind of motion that begged for patience he didn’t have. His grip on his cane tightened just enough for her to notice. “Izzy,” he muttered keeping his voice low, “If you don’t stop naggin' me, I’ll bloody toss you out here m'self.”

She leaned back slightly, raising an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips while pretending to be offended. “Oh... you’d never,” she whispered, shaking her head, clearly satisfied from his annoyed reaction. "I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you, old man."

He let out a sharp huff through his nose, his head shaking ever so slightly. His eyes, however, remained fixed forward. "You’re infuriating," he grumbled under his breath, though she caught the faintest flicker of a smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

That was enough for her—for now. She settled back in silence, though her curiosity still simmering underneath. What were they doing here? She knew Alfie wasn’t much for tradition, especially not when it came to faith. With the way he lived his life, she doubted he’d been in a synagogue in decades—if ever. And yet, here they were. Living together, sharing so much already, and this was a part of him she’d never seen.

“It’s a debt,” he said simply, finally breaking the silence.

She tilted her head, confusion flickering across her face.

“A debt? To who?”

“To Him,” Alfie replied, nodding toward the front of the synagogue, where the Ark stood solemnly against the wall. "The big fella upstairs.”

She blinked, taken aback. "God?" The word came out incredulous. "You’re repaying a debt to God?"

Well. This is it.

For a moment, she stared at him, half-convinced he’d lost his mind. This is it, she thought, her stomach twisting. This is early-onset dementia. I’m gonna be stuck looking after a senile old man I love.

But Alfie’s face didn’t show any of the teasing or madness she’d half-expected. His jaw was set firm, his eyes forward, his nod steady and deliberate. “For you,” he said. "For sendin’ you back to me." His gaze softened slightly but stayed fixed ahead. "And I reckon I owe Him a nod for that. It’s about respect, yeah? You don’t take somethin’ like that for granted."

The words hit her like drums beating on her chest, leaving her both speechless and breathless. Alfie Solomons, the man who lived like he owed no one and took no nonsense from anyone, was sitting here, quietly repaying a debt to God—for her. She opened her mouth to say something, but the sincerity in his expression stole her words, instead she just bit her lip. His answer was far from she expected.

Of course he means it, she thought, her heart pounding softly. Now I feel bad.

For a while, Izzy didn’t say anything. She let the quiet of the synagogue wrap around her as Alfie sat perfectly still, his hands resting on his cane and his gaze fixed straight ahead. She didn’t mind that he had his own ways of showing emotion—it was part of who he was, and she loved him for it. But as much as she tried to stay still and respectful, the calmness of the place started to settle over her a little too well. It was warm and quiet, and the weight of the pasty she stuffed down her throat earlier was still sitting heavily in her stomach.

Before she could stop it, a yawn crept up on her, loud and completely out of her control. She clapped a hand over her mouth, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment as her wide eyes darted toward Alfie.

His head whipped around, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Bloody hell, are you dozin’ off?” he hissed quietly.

“No,” she whispered, though her sleepy eyes betrayed her. “It’s just... it’s warm in here. And peaceful. And, well… you did make me eat a lot of pasty before we came here.”

He gave her an incredulous look, shaking his head slowly. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, leaning back slightly. “Here I am, payin’ me respects, and you’re over ‘ere actin’ like it’s bedtime.”

She hummed softly, unbothered by his scolding as she let her head rest lightly against his shoulder. “If God didn’t want me to nap,” she murmured as drowsiness took over her, “He wouldn’t have made these pews so comfortable.”

“Bloody heathen,” he grumbled under his breath.

Even though he's annoyed, his hand shifted slightly, adjusting his arm to let her lean into him more comfortably. His hand rested against hers, and when her fingers curled around his instinctively, he didn’t pull away. Her voice softened as she mumbled something incoherent, her words melting into sleepy breaths as her body relaxed against his. Alfie stayed where he was, unmoving, feeling at peace in the silence.

This was all he wanted, wasn’t it? Just her beside him, safe and warm, with nothing pulling her away.

A man like him didn’t deserve much—he knew that. But for all the power and wealth he’d chased, this was the one thing that made him feel like he owed something back. He glanced down at her, her breathing slow and peaceful, and allowed himself the faintest smile. For years, he’d lived like God owed him for the life he’d been dealt. But having Izzy back in his life? For that, Alfie reckoned he owed God a bit more than He owed him. And, for once, he didn’t mind paying up.

Of course she wouldn't get off the hook that easily. Their drive home was as tense as his business meetings. Alfie gripped on the steering wheel tightly with his expression looking annoyed. He was obviously not speaking to her since they both got out of there. Clearly, this was his version of sulking. Izzy sat beside him in the passenger seat with her legs tucked up under her, looking at him from time to time with knowing smile tugging at her lips, finding him a bit endearing.

“Come on now,” she said casually. “Are you going to stew all the way home, or are you just going to give it to me right now?”

He let out a groan but did not take his eyes off the road. “Don’t try and charm your way out of this one, love. You bloody well know what you did.”

She bit back a laugh, shrugging her shoulders and pretending to be innocent. “Kindly enlighten me, Alfie. What exactly do you think I did?”

“You fell asleep,” he shot back gruffly. “Dozin’ off in the middle of a bloody synagogue. On me shoulder, no less, like it’s naptime for little Izzy.”

“I wasn’t asleep. I was...resting my eyes.”

“Restin’ your eyes?” Alfie’s head snapped toward her for a brief second, his expression pure disbelief before he turned back to the road. “That’s the excuse you’re goin’ with? In the middle of me payin’ respects?”

“I didn’t mean to!” she protested, though the teasing grin on her face showed her lack of real remorse. “It was warm in there. Peaceful. And I was full from the pasty—”

“The bloody pasty again,” Alfie muttered under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “Every excuse in the book, you are. You couldn’t even stay awake while I was speakin' to God Himself..." he continued. “You’re lucky the rabbi didn’t catch you droolin’. That’d have been a right embarrassment.”

At that, she couldn’t hold it in anymore. A laugh burst out of her, unapologetic and loud, as she turned in her seat to fully face him. “Alright, alright,” she said, placing a hand on his thigh and rubbing it in slow, up and down. “I’ll make it up to you, okay? Once we get home.”

Alfie’s eyes darted down to her hand for the briefest moment, his grip on the wheel easing slightly. His eyes sharpened with a flicker of interest and his lips twitched, hinting at a smirk. She knew that look—knew exactly what she was doing. No matter how much she annoyed him, she always had a way of buttering him up. The old man didn’t stand a chance against her. And the worst part? He didn’t even mind.

“Make it up how?”

“Oh, you know exactly how.”

“Do I now?”

“Mm-hm,” she replied, settling back into her seat with a satisfied look. “Consider it my penance. You’ll feel plenty thanked by the time I’m done.”

Alfie shook his head, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. She sure is cocky about that no doubt—and annoyingly, she was always able to back it up. As the car turned onto their street, she glanced at him again, her voice softening.

“For the record, though... I do thank whoever’s out there—God, fate, or just plain luck—that I found myself you. My old, grouchy man.”

He glanced at her, his smirk fading into something gentler. “Old and grouchy, am I?” he still couldn’t resist a bit of banter.

“Sure,” she said with a mischievous grin, leaning just slightly toward him. “Let’s toss handsome into it too. You know, as the cherry on top.”

Alfie let out a low laugh as he pulled the car into their driveway. “Never thought I'd see the day I'll meet someone as snarky as me.”

“Eh. Less talking, more penance inside. Let's go.” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt with a wink.

“Whatever you say.” Alfie muttered, though his tone was warm. And as they stepped out of the car and into the house. Ever since she came back, he’d been handling her like a fragile glass, overly careful with every touch. It got to the point where she had to tell him it was okay—he could hug her, kiss her, whenever he wanted in which he did. But weeks had passed now, and though they shared the same bed, his hesitation still lingered. They haven't had sex since, and it was starting to wear on her. She wasn’t fragile. She wanted him to see that—wanted him to see her.

They did not even get to his bedroom. Izzy spent little to no time pulling Alfie into the couch and crashing her lips to his. Oh boy, they were hungry. He was laying down with his head resting on the couch cushions, and she was straddled on top of him, feeling his hard cock underneath his pants. Quickly, she took off her oh-so-modest dress she wore inside the synagogue and unbuttoned helped him strip down his clothes as well. With a use of his left hand, he unclasped her bra and threw it on the floor, pulling her closer to him, aggressively sucking and kneading her breasts.

"Mmm Alfie..."

His tongue felt so good flicking on her nipples, she can't help but breathe out a faint cry. She tugged his hair back and started kissing his jaw, down to his neck, leaving some faint marks on it, proceeding to kiss down to his chest, playfully biting his tattoos while undoing his pants. His cock sprung out of his pants hard, only to be welcomed by her wet and hot mouth slowly taking him whole, as she thirst on his shaft. Her tongue curled into a damp bed where his cock glides in and out slowly at first, until Izzy greedily draws him in deeper.

"God damn it, Izzy..." Alfie hissed in pleasure, holding her bobbing head.

She was fully engrossed in gratifying him, but choked on both his cock and her laugh, pulling away.

"W-what? Why'd you stop?" he panted, looking down on her.

Her hand wrapped around his cock which was already lubricated by her saliva earlier, jerking him off. A faint smirk curled her lips as when she saw his head fall back again. "Out of a sacred place and straight to 'God damn it'? Truly, sinful. Don't you think, honey?"

"Don't be a tease, love. Come on."

He groaned in frustration but was still amused with her remark. He was getting close to the brink and he did not want to waste any of his goodness on her palm. He held her wrist, pulling her up to capture her lips again with her arms falling on both side of his head. Without breaking their kiss, his fingers traced her panties, pulling them down hastily, her legs kicking them off the floor. Izzy still straddled on his waist, Alfie bent his knees to support her, his both hands lifted her ass up while the tip of his cock dipped into her folds, searching for her entrance, then slowly pushing in her silky wet pussy.

"Fuck.. Alfie.." she whimpered, feeling her walls stretch from his size as she push her hips down. "I fucking missed you inside me..."

"Ah, love… you’ve no..." he groaned in between words as he feels her warmth slowly consume him. "..idea how long I’ve been sufferin’ waitin’ for this—"

Alfie was in her deep, his grip on her waist tightened, and his brows drawing together as he looked at her. "Go on, then," he muttered, his tone both commanding and charged. "Show me how you pay your bloody penance, love."

Her hip started rocking forward and backward, sending them in an immediate ecstatic feeling they're both very much familiar with. She was dripping and his cock was hitting her spot repeatedly, eliciting a loud moan from her. His right hand remained the grip on her hips while his left hand reach up to her nape, pulling her down into a sloppy greedy kiss, their sweaty bodies rubbing together as she continued riding him. That lasted for a while but Izzy had to pull away from their kiss and rested her forehead on his beard, gasping for air as she pants, her hips still moving rhythmically with his hips bucking up and down. She arched her back, allowing his cock to enter her more, deeply, and graspingly.

"A-Alfie..." she whined, feeling her stomach coil. "So so fucking good..." her head tilted back and mouth agape, chasing her release. He was hitting it again and again, and she eagerly rides him more.

"Yeah? Fucking cum for me, beautiful." he reached down to her clit rubbing it in a circular motion, sending her to her edge. The closer she felt to her release, her walls clenched around him. It didn't take long until Alfie felt his surge as well. Izzy came and gushed over his cock, still proceeding to ride him.

"Fuck's sake, Isobel..." Alfie groaned when his cock twitched inside her with each release.

"Ohhhh..." Izzy was barely biting her lips, unable to fight a moan escaping from her lips as she feels his hot cum fill her up. She shifted her hips a little bit, ensuring she caught all the drippings from his cock. It felt so damn good.

Catching her breath, Izzy nestled close to Alfie, her head resting against his chest. His arm wrapped around her instinctively, holding her in place like she belonged there—and she did.

She was his.

Alfie’s hand trailed lazily along her back, his fingers brushing some strands of her dark-colored locks. "Well," he murmured, "you’ve got my blessing to sleep through every synagogue visit from now on—might even make a bloody tradition out of it."

Izzy couldn’t help but laugh softly, still catching her breath as she nestled closer to him. "So, that’s your way of saying penance accepted?"

He let out a low chuckle, his hand now resting at the small of her back. "Mm, penance accepted," he teased. "But don’t think for a second you’re off the hook, right? You owe me more than that, love."

"More?" she mimicked, raising an eyebrow. "Greedy old man, aren’t you?"

His hand slid up her back, pulling her just a little closer. "When it comes to you, I’ll take what I can get." he said. "But you’ve never been one to hold back neither, eh?" he snorted, earning a chuckle from her.

For a moment, this was it—the silent warmth she'd thank the Gods for, the kind that didn’t need words or explanations.

Izzy tilted her face up toward him, her gaze locking with his, slowly, Alfie leaned down, his lips meeting hers in a soft, unhurried kiss. When they finally pulled apart, her forehead rested gently against his, a small, breathless smile tugging at her lips.

“I love you."

“I love you too, Isobel."

[fun-k-board]

Hello! Can i request some Mavel Rivals Psylocke x male reader? (Romantic hcs, please)

MARVEL RIVALS - SAI / PSYLOCKE Romantic Headcanons

Note(s): I didn't really know how to make the reader male in a headcanon format. I tried, but I felt it came across as awkward and forced so the reader is gender neutral, sorry.

Sai is incredibly disciplined and fierce, yes, but she's also empathetic and kind. Her love is controlled and it's subtle, but you always feel it, the warmth and gentleness. Even when she isn't present.

One thing that Sai can't stand is people who use kindness for granted, and one thing Sai loves is people who give kindness willingly. Of course, if you're a more jaded or even rude person I don't think this would completely disqualify a relationship between the two of you, but I imagine you'd need to just not be cruel about it. You don't need to take care of a garden or animals, you just need to not stomp over that garden or try to hurt animals. If that makes sense.

Despite being of few words in public, when it comes to your love at least, it seems that every word she does speak is deliberately intended to have a double meaning. Her eyes find yours, full of devotion and softness, and yet when speaking to others they're typically distant unless she has a fondness for them. Mostly like the little yokai shark, but occasionally other beings are granted her adoration. Her respect seems to be easier to earn than her love.

I don't believe she's a fan of public affection. While Sai can sing your praises and speak near poetic speeches of you in private, she prefers to keep them private. Her love isn't for everybody, it's for you. So, why should she share those acts of devotion? She won't, even if given an answer. Of course that doesn't mean she's distant, she will praise you when you do something impressive in her eyes, even if ordinary. It's not like she becomes particularly cold to you, just not so lovey dovey.

Physical affection is a whole other story. She doesn't like being physically affectionate in public at all, and while you can maybe convince her to be loving with words, you can never convince her to be loving physically while in others view. Her hand may brush against yours, but that's typically reserved for either of your comforts in a distressing situation.

How Sai shows her love physically, both in private and in public, is by protecting you. Even if you can handle yourself. She will keep you behind her in confrontation or battle, and she will become silently enraged at a hint of harm your way. This doesn't mean she believes you to be weak or helpless, far from it, she just knows that she's powerful and plans to use her power to keep you safe. After all, she loves you. She can't have you getting hurt while she's there and could've done something about it.

She's definitely a good cook. Maybe not the best, but I bet Sai can make a mean meal at the end of the day, her soups and teas are the best and practically to die for. Given that she grows her own ingredients they're always fresh, never processed, and her teas can make even the most stressful day calm. Being in a relationship with her means you'll get food and drink whenever you ask, of course only when she's home, though.

I think she would maybe settle down in a small house in Japan somewhere, I'd see her near a mountain or mountains. Obviously not completely settled, but enough so that you two can live in peace if that's something you'd enjoy doing with her. It's isolated, it's quiet, and it's perfect for keeping in touch with nature whilst having a place to train. Besides, now you two can garden together and feed animals. It's one of her favourite down time activities.

Sai will take you out on dates occasionally, if you express a desire to go on them, usually to some homey small restaurant or a walk in a serene, nature area. Whether it's the mountains, a forest, or the beach, she'll pack some food with her and you'll have a sort of picnic midway through the walk, or afterwards depending on what you prefer. The public restaurant dates are never too fancy, and they only become fancy if that's how you prefer your dates.

Even though she's not always home, she tries to do as much as she can before she leaves. Waking up at an unholy early time of the morning, she makes the bed neat somehow while you're in it, does basic cleaning so things are in the right place and at least decent to look at, makes sure you have enough food, and sets up a small breakfast. Put on a low heat, as she doesn't want to burn the house or the food, the food tends to be something filling but light.

The morning had started out normal. Sai woke up early as usual, she left her bed, she put on her clothes, and yet when she went into the kitchen her whole routine slowed down. She would always make a quick hot meal and drink before training outside, even in and especially in the colder months, which she would chalk up to helping with discipline and strength. Yet, she didn't. When you wake up, most likely at least an hour or more later, she's on her knees, kneeling by the chabudai with her eyes firmly shut.

So, without a word, you decide to make tea for the both of you. Her eyes flicking open the moment you begin.

That always calms her down, and if you know anything about your girlfriend, you know that whenever she doesn't stick to her schedule she just isn't calm. So, you begin preparation. The cold wood underneath your feet doesn't distract you nearly as much as her eyes do, peeking out from the large scarf draped over her neck, seemingly hyper-focused on your hand.

What the near suspicious gaze is for, and why it's on your hand of all things, you just don't realise until she speaks.

"You seem cold." She mutters, a very plain lie given that her usual training in the winter consists of going out in her usual get up with no protection at all. Sometimes she even travels more North. It becomes obvious what she wants when her hand outstretches to rest on the table, her fingers twitching slightly under the pressure of your look. At whatever comment you make, even if snarky, Sai can't help but feel as if she's melting into the floorboards.

[bluemoviegirl]

UNDER THE SAME SUN CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 1

joel miller x reader, enemies to lovers

wc: 6.8k

tw: death, blood

summary: we finally get to know a bit more about your past, and another thursday with Joel!! Though you and him just can’t get along, even when you try really hard.

a/n: there'll be more interactions with joel soon guyz, right now they just really despise eachother <3. also, thanks for all the likes!! this chapter took a bit longer cause i'm super duper busy rn but honestly i'm just motivated to get them together. no rushing it though i love a good slow burn xoxo lmk what u thought i loveee getting comments 🩷

happy reading!! <3

It’s been 2 days since the repair job. It had upset you a lot more than you anticipated. That day had triggered the anxiety you thought you had stuffed so far down it would never dare come up again. And that was weird, you were tough. You’ve been tough. So what? A man got killed in front of you? You’d seen it many times before, you’ve been the one holding the gun so many times.

But the way you were dismissed, the way your presence meant nothing to him. How helpless you felt, your emotions had gone back in time. A time you had tried so hard to forget. The way Joel looked so unbothered by it all, he had looked more bothered about you yelling than the actual murder. It made you feel sick. It made you think of Dane.

10 years ago.

You weren’t supposed to be friends, not really. At first, you weren’t even sure you liked Lois. She was loud, brash, and a little too quick to joke in moments where you thought it wasn’t appropriate. But in a world like this, what else were you supposed to do? Sit in silence and wait to die?

It started like this: the first time you met her, it was over a stolen bag of chips. You were hiding out in a small, abandoned building, just trying to keep your head down. You had a decent stash of food, and you were about to enjoy your first real meal in days when you heard movement behind you. Your hand quickly went to your knife, but before you could even make a move, you saw her—Lois—grinning like she’d just hit the jackpot.

A girl your age, long brown hair put in a braid and thick straight eyebrows moving with every word she spoke. The same way your brows always speak before your mouth does.

"Those for me?" she’d asked, eyes twinkling, like she hadn’t just come out of the shadows like a damn ghost.

"Yeah, right," you muttered, not trusting her one bit. "Find your own."

But she was persistent, and after a few back-and-forths, you found yourself sharing what little you had. Lois didn’t have any food to offer, but she did have something else: stories and jokes.

She talked about her life before all of this—what it was like to have a family, a home, a normal life. It was strange to hear someone speak about it so casually, as if the world hadn’t completely changed. For a moment, it felt like the world was just… normal again.

"You know," Lois said, chewing slowly as she looked out the window, "I used to hate rain. Could never get my hair right."

You snorted, a little caught off guard. "Sounds rough."

She laughed, leaning back against the wall. "Yeah, you’re right. Now? I’d give anything for a real storm. Some kind of normal weather. Anything that doesn’t feel like it’s out of a nightmare."

The conversation drifted naturally after that, with you both talking about small things. Things that, at the time, felt impossible to care about, but talking about them somehow made the world feel just a little more bearable. You didn’t become best friends that day. Hell, you didn’t even like her that much. But she wasn’t the worst person to share a tiny room with.

The next few days passed in much the same way. The two of you stuck together by necessity—safety in numbers and all that. Lois was always the first to crack a joke when things got tense, always the first to break the silence with something silly. Even if it was just the smallest thing, she had a way of making you forget how miserable everything else was. She brought out the social butterfly in you.

One morning, as you huddled together near a fire, she offered you some of her dried fruit. "This is better than nothing," she said, tossing a piece toward you with a little smirk.

"Better than a bag of chips," you replied dryly, smiling despite yourself.

"Hey, don’t knock it. It’s survival food. It’s what’s keeping us alive." She leaned back, her eyes scanning the horizon. "We got this."

And maybe you did. You didn’t know how you’d survive this world, but you knew you couldn’t do it alone.

Over time, you began to learn the little things about her. How she would always tap her foot when she was thinking, or how she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear when she was nervous. A habit you had started doing too. The way she fidgeted with her necklace when she was nervous. The way she would keep you on your toes with her sudden, random bursts of energy or the way she could make even the worst situations feel manageable with a laugh.

You’d never admit it out loud, but it became clear to you: You depended on Lois. In a world where it felt like you could lose everything in an instant, Lois was a constant. Someone who made the emptiness of everything else feel just a little less overwhelming. She became your reminder that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t alone in all of this.

And even if you didn’t say it, the bond was there, growing deeper each day. You shared a glance, a small nod of acknowledgment, and in those moments, you knew—no matter what happened, you could make it through as long as you had her by your side.

One day, you were surrounded by infected. There was no way to get out of it alive unless you had help, and it was as if your prayers had been answered. Before you know it, the infected are getting shot down, beheaded, stabbed, name it and they did it.

This group, led by a man named Dane, had come to your rescue. He was a tall, broad man, dark hair cut short. You two owed him your life. He led a group of around 15 people. He seemed like a good man, promising to keep the two of you safe. You and Lois both knew you were capable of keeping yourself alive but it was nice to have a community. It was nice. Until it wasn’t.

It started off well, Dane welcomed you two like you were going to be part of the family. They actually had a base, a protected fort if you will.

“Our help’s gonna cost ya though,” Dane said, leading you both past the rusted gates. The metal groaned as it shut behind you, sealing you in.

Lois didn’t hesitate. “Of course! We’d be more than happy to help you guys out. After all, you saved our lives.” After a moment of waiting for you to say anything, she nudged your side, expecting you to back her up. You nodded stiffly, but something about the way Dane was watching you made your stomach knot.

“Don’t worry, we don’t bite.” His grin –flashing a silver tooth--was meant to be friendly, to ease your discomfort.

 It didn’t.

Lois had taken your hand in hers and squeezed it lightly. Her way of saying you’re okay.

It was somewhat normal the first week. You’d been given chores like cleaning the dining room, washing clothes and cooking. When you first started preparing plates, Dane’s right hand Silas told you to watch the portion control.  Dane and a select few eat better meals than everyone else. The rest get scraps. When you point it out, they joke, “Rank has its privileges.”

Lois had thought it was a bit weird but she brushed it off quickly. She adjusted fast, you couldn’t blame her. You’ve endured so much fear, you know what she’s lost and what you two had been through. Of course she’d jump at the option to be protected. You still thought you two were more than capable of protecting yourself. And you certainly didn’t need Dane to be the one to protect you.

Every night you’d have trouble sleeping but you kept telling yourself, you’re just paranoid. You’ve been with just Lois for so long, these aren’t bad people.

Dane was superior, to the rest of the group. No one ate before he did, no one dared to sit in the chair he sat at, Dane had the final say in everything. Everything you owed, they owed. Someone liked your jacket? It was theirs.

“I get that it’s scary being with all these strangers, but I’d never want to put you in any harm. I truly believe this is a good place. Yeah their rules are a little weird, but we have weird rules too. Like our rule that we can never refuse a snack one of us offers? Even if we’re not hungry? Isn’t that silly too?” Lois had replied softly when you finally built up the courage to talk to her about it.

You dropped it and didn’t speak up about your discomfort anymore. It was obvious, Lois wanted to stay here. Who were you to drag her away from all this? And so far, they had actually been good to the two of you. Nothing crazy but you got shelter and food.

As you tried to adjust after being here for 4 months, you managed to actually make another friend here. His name was Jonnie. He was about 5’5, a bit younger than you and had the cutest snort when he laughed. His curly blonde hair always falling before his blue eyes. The thing you loved about him the most was how he still had that pre-apocalypse softness many people had lost. Including yourself. He brought that out in you. He had this innocence to him, like even in this world, he wouldn’t harm a butterfly.

You and him were on cleaning duty, every night after dinner you’d clean up the dining room together.

“You’ll never believe what I have.” He said, his hands behind his back.

You try to peek but he turns away each time. “What is it? Tell me Jonnie!” You chuckle.

He quickly brings his arms forward, revealing a little cassette player.

Your eyes widen and jaw drops.

“Your mouth’s open.” He snorts.

“No freaking way!!” You grab it from his hands, observing it closely. It was old, had a lot of wear and tear. You always said how much you missed music and now Jonnie had managed to get a cassette player? He was truly an angel.

“I’ve never actually seen these things before the world ended.” You chuckle. “Wait but, do you even have any cassettes? Else this thing is pretty useless..” You look up at Jonnie, who’s already holding in a big wide grin.

He reveals a cassette. “Of course I do. I don’t do half-ass surprises.” He takes the cassette player from your hand and pops it in. “Warning though, it only plays one song.”

“It better be amazing then.” You wait for the music to start playing.

The tune starts playing, you immediately recognizing it. You eye Jonnie as he eyes you, both pairs of eyes twinkling.

“We’re talking away. I don’t know what I’m to say..” The grainy sound of the cassette filling the empty room.

You burst out into laughter as you grab Jonnie’s arms and start dancing. More like just jumping around, but it’s still considered dancing in your book. “Take on meeeee” “Take on me!”

You’re carelessly spinning around, arms wide, cheekbones aching. Jonnie’s clapping along, completely off-beat but grinning so widely it doesn’t even matter.

Your dance party is cut short when you hear the door opening though. Jonnie quickly turns off the music. It was Silas.

“Evening.” He says, his finger tracing a table as he checks it for dust. By some miracle he hadn’t heard the music.

You and Jonnie are stood next to each other, hands behind your back, as if you’re some soldier.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just here for a late night craving.” He brushed past the two of you, grabbed some food and disappeared again.

You two both let out a breathe of relief.

“Thank the gods, I don’t know what would’ve happened if he caught us like that.” Jonnie says softly, obviously a bit shaken. “He creeps me out.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

The following clean ups were the one thing you looked forward to every day. You’d start the evening off with a dance party and would have the song on repeat the entire night.

Jonnie and you spent a lot of time together. You’d seek each other out at dinner and of course clean together. You didn’t expect to find one best friend during an apocalypse, let alone two.

One evening, you and Lois are sat with Dane and his select few around the campfire.

“I think it’s time we celebrate our newcomers. You two have been here for 6 months. Really proven that you’re of use.” Dane said, a beer in his hand. You noticed that when he grinned, you could see a broken yellowed tooth. Yuck.

Lois nodded happily.

“You’re a tough nut to crack though.” Dane’s eyes met yours. You felt shivers down your spine.

“Do you like it here?” He took another sip.

You were quiet for a moment before speaking. “I do.”  You lied.

“Are you dedicated to us? To me?” His gaze darkened and his voice was deeper.

You were taken aback a bit, why is he asking this crap? You furrowed your brows a bit. Lois could read you like a book, she could tell you thought Dane was a total idiot.

“She is. We are.” Lois chimed in, smiling as she interlocked her arm with yours.

He huffed out a dry chuckle, his eyes showing no sign of amusement. “Show me.”

“What?” She asked, as if she didn’t hear right the first time.

“I want her to show me.” Dane said, looking firmly at you and not Lois.

You felt your stomach drop, what the fuck does he mean?

Before you could even think about what it meant, Silas arrived, dragging a guy with him. He threw the guy on the ground in front of you. His hands and ankles tied, head facing the floor but you could recognize those curls anywhere.

Jonnie.

Your eyes widen as you feel your stomach drop. For a moment, the world was in slow motion. Dane’s laugh sounded slowed down as Silas kicks Jonnie, flipping him over as Jonnie squeals in anguish.

Lois is frozen, as are you.

Your eyes scan Jonnie’s battered body. He’s been beaten to hell. His clothes are soaked in blood, his face nearly unrecognizable. His left eye is swollen shut, his entire right side bruised. Blood stains his blonde eyebrows and drips from a split lip.

You tried to get any words out, to stand up for Jonnie. But you freeze when Jonnie’s eyes met yours and a tear rolled over his cheek. That moment of eye contact told you everything, he was terrified.

Dane suddenly pushes a gun in your hand. You look up at Dane, who sits back down. He’s.. He’s actually grinning.

“Kill him.”  Dane nudges his head towards Jonnie. “W-What?” You stammered, a tear rolling over your cheek that you quickly wiped away.

A moment of silence is broken when Dane throws a cassette player in front of you. Jonnie and yours cassette player.

“He doesn’t respect our rules. We share here. Yet, this boy thinks it’s acceptable to keep things to himself. You know our rules right?”

You shakily nod. “Say it.”  Dane folds his arms as he manspreads.

“E-everything you own, we own. We- we share everything.” You quietly said, breathing heavily.

“Speak. Up.” He snapped back, his voice raising. It shook you.

“Everything you own, we-“ You choke up. “-own.” You stammered through the tears you could no longer hold back.

“Good. You know the rules. Calm down, let’s make this atmosphere a little less hostile.” Dane snorts as he leans forward to grab the cassette player. He presses play.

The sound of the song startles you. The song that you and Jonnie used to love and dance to every night, was now being played at Jonnie’s possible last moment.

“Takeee onnn meeee.” Silas murmurs with a wide smile.

Lois furrowed her brows as she was no longer holding onto you. You glanced at her, almost afraid to meet her eyes. She had tears welling up but she attempted to blink them away.

“Good. He didn’t respect that rule. Frankly, I don’t know if he’s ever really been of use here. Don’t even know the boy’s name.” Dane chuckles, his eyes showing nothing but evil. “Now, kill him. I won’t tell you again.”

You tremble as you look down at Jonnie, he’s crying too. You had never felt so weak before, afraid your knees might buckle any moment. You stood up before Jonnie, weakly lifting the gun to him but you immediately lower it. You can’t do this. Jonnie’s your friend. Jonnie’s innocent, he got that cassette player for you. You should be paying for this. And as his eyes meet yours yet again, you feel like you might throw up. He’s pleading. Jonnie’s pleading for his life with that look in his eyes.

“I- please Dane-“ You beg, you plead but Dane shows no sign of you getting out of this.

Suddenly the gun gets taken out of your hand, Lois takes it. You look at her, her eyes don’t show sadness and fear like yours are. Her eyes show determination. Like she’s turned off her personality. She raises the gun to Jonnie’s head.

“Lois!” You yelp, your voice cracking.

But she ignores you and pulls the trigger, blood splattering on your face as your tears try and clear your vision. The only thing visible is the light from the fire reflecting off of Lois’s gold locket hanging around her neck.

After that, there’s a moment of silence. Silence filled with that stupid song still playing.

--

You blink, snapping out of that horrible memory, it’s like you could feel the blood splattering on you again. Your stomach turns. Now you’re sat on your couch, zoned out staring at Joel’s gloves you’d forgotten to return after you stormed off. Even the painted wall felt stupid and the fact that Joel was the one who helped you complete it. Get your act together, you thought. You’re over Dane. Dane isn’t Joel. Joel isn’t Dane. It’s completely different.

And the thing is, you knew it was. You knew it was different. You knew Joel had meant you no harm, not the way Dane had always meant harm. Not the way Dane had harmed Lois- So you convince yourself to at least get dinner at the dining hall today. The dry bread and cans of vegetables weren’t cutting it anymore.

You step outside of your apartment, the cold air breezing through your hair. The feel instantly bringing you shivers. It’s a bit of a walk from your apartment to the dining hall and you happened to run into Selene. Selene was your neighbor, one that had chosen to befriend you in the first two months that you arrived. You’d been cooped up in your place for the first two months but as soon as you were out and about, she came running. She was a tall woman, taller than you were. Her curly auburn hair always put into a bun with pieces sticking out. After those two months you guys talked often. You knew she had a boyfriend, Aaron. He was the opposite of her. She was very loud, very witty and social, while Aaron was quiet, nerdy and very to himself. It was honestly a cute match.

“Hey! Finally I caught you.” Selene said, pacing up her steps to match yours. “Are you headed to the dining hall?” She twirled her hair pieces.

“I am yeah. Haven’t been in a while.”

“Yeah, thought I hadn’t seen you out in a couple days! Everything okay? I get that the change can be tough, I had just the same thing. When my boyfriend and I just arrived here, we didn’t leave our place for two weeks..” She rubbed the back of her neck as she felt a pink tint creeping up, her realizing you didn’t leave your place for two months. “I guess it’s different for everyone.” She chuckled a bit awkwardly.

“I’m doing good, thanks for asking. I just felt like staying in. How are you and Aaron doing?” You smiled reassuringly.

“Oh we’re genuinely fantastic. Okay, don’t tell anyone-“ She leaned in closer to you. “I think we might be expecting..” She smiled widely.

You wanted to be happy for her but it was hard to hide the frown on your face. Who would get pregnant in a world like this? You want to bring more people into this scary world?

She noticed the look on your face and her smile immediately dropped. “I get it.. A baby, in a world like this. It’s crazy. We certainly didn’t plan on it, but I just can’t hide the excitement that I actually get to bring life in a world that takes so much of it.”

to bring life in a world that takes so much of it.

“That’s beautifully said, Selene. I am happy for the two of you, I hope your baby gets your curls.” You smiled, the conflicted feelings fading at the idea of Selene being a mother. You didn’t know her super well or anything, but you could tell she’d be a great mom.

“I sure hope so! Not Aaron’s bald patches.” She snorts and nudges your arm playfully.

You laugh, a genuine laugh.

When you two finally arrive at the dining hall, you were going to sit alone but she urged you to join Aaron and her. With a tray in your hands containing a bowl of stew, a piece of bread and a glass of tea, you sit down, your eyes scanning the room.

 Your stomach drops for a second when you see Joel sit at one of the tables, further down. He’s sitting with a girl, looks to be about 14? Joel is a dad? And he’s laughing? Well, it’s a minimal laugh, a tiny chuckle. But you’d never seen it before.

“Isn’t that Tommy’s brother?” You suddenly hear Selene cutting through your thoughts as she leans closer to you. Your eyes snap back to Selene.

“What’s his name?”

“Joel.” You say before stuffing your mouth with bread, not wanting to talk about him any further. Selene doesn’t seem to get that hint though.

“Joel. He’s cute.” Aaron shoots her a look, raising his brows as she said that. “Oh come on, I’m having your baby,” She mouths the word baby. “I’m not leaving you.” She whispers, laughing. He gets a bit red as his eyes shoot to you, not sure whether you knew.

“Yeah I told her.. As soon as I saw her. I actually couldn’t hold myself back. She practically guessed it.” Selene quickly says even though you didn’t even have the faintest suspicion of her being pregnant. You grin.

“So you and Joel? I’ve seen him around, always brooding.” Selene continues, smirking.

You exhale sharply, already over this conversation. “Absolutely not.”

Selene shoots a look back at Aaron before returning to you. “Why not?”

“’Cause he’s world’s biggest asshole, that’s why.”  

“Damn, what did he do to you?” Aaron says, intrigued.

“Yeah, spill. There’s not nearly enough gossip in this place.” Selene picks at her curls again.

You shoot them both a look. “I’m all for a little gossip but honestly, this man is just an asshole. I do repair jobs with him and let me tell ya, they are not fun.”

“You have to elaborate!! Come on, we’re super duper curious.” Selene nudges you.

You chuckle a bit, Selene reminded you of Lois in some way, they were completely different yet so the same. The way Selene rambled was the way Lois would ramble too.

 “It’s just that, he completely dismisses me. Thinks I’m some weak link that has no understanding of the world outside of these walls.” You start ranting.

“He acts like I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. Like I’m some clueless idiot who’s never set foot outside of a QZ or here. He doesn’t listen, doesn’t take me seriously. It’s like he’s already decided exactly who I am, and nothing I do or say changes that. I can tell him one thing, he does not have me figured out. And just—” You realize you’re rambling. “Sorry.” “Oh please, don’t apologize. He sounds like a real jerk.” Selene says, Aaron nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, and I may have been a real jerk to him too. So we’re not on the best of terms.”

Your thoughts go back to the man he killed and the look in his eyes afterwards. Your eyes glance back to Joel across the room. Your stomach drops when you see he was already looking at you. You quickly turn back to the table.

“Oi, you know who I say leaving Julian’s apartment this morning?” Selene grins widely, teeth baring. She’s tapping her hand on the table to get your attention.

“Who?” You can’t hide the smile that’s building on your face as your brows knit together in curiosity.

“Nevermind.. You’ll actually just never believe me.” She fakes looking frustrated as she sighs dramatically before the grin reappears on her face.

“Tell me!” You poke her.

“Okay okay, if you want to know that badly.” She comically rolls her eyes before slapping both hands on the table and leaning forward. “Sasha.” Selene covers her mouth with her hand as she giggles.

Sasha was one of the people who frequently worked at the Workshop, she was always annoyed and honestly, a real bitch. You remember the first time you made your way to the Workshop and asked for a notebook. She had looked you up and down and just scoffed as she walked off. You waited for 5 minutes before realizing she wasn’t going to bring you one. She weirded you out to say the least.

Julian on the other hand, was such a nice guy. He was around 42, fully grey hair and always laughed so loudly it would make anyone else laugh too. So the two of them together, is definitely surprising.

“You’re kidding???” You reply.

“No! I’m not! Aaron, you saw it too right??” She looks at Aaron, who’s just about to take a spoonful of stew. He nods. “Yeah only cause you dragged me out of bed to see that.” He says before eating.

“I actually couldn’t believe my freaking eyes!! How can miss grump fit with mr sunshine?!”

“You have such a way with words, Selene. But I agree. It’s like a perfect book trope.” You grin.

After dinner, you tell Selene and Aaron you’re taking a little stroll. Before you got up you had glanced over to where Joel was sitting but he and the girl had already left. You bring your tray back to the counter and make your way outside.

The stroll is nice. The sound of people chatting, kids playing, the lights on inside the house making you only see shadows of people through the curtains, the smell of campfires burning. You couldn’t believe you were at such a peaceful place. That was, until you were hit with a snowball. Right in the face.

“Jesus-“ Your hands wipe the snow out of your face. “Oh shit! I thought you were someone else!” A girls voice yells as you hear her coming closer.

You blink out the rest of the snow as your vision clears. It’s the girl Joel was sitting with.  You smile at her, feeling a tad awkward after being attacked with snow.

“It’s okay.” You’re about to start walking again before she speaks up.

“You gotta admit, that was a pretty good shot.” She laughs. You smile back at her. “Yeah great shot, thanks.” You chuckle.

 “I feel like I’ve seen you around.” Her eyes scan you.

“That’s possible.” “You’ve done repairs with Joel, yeah?” She asked but it was more of a statement.

“Yeah—I do actually. You’ve seen me with him or Joel tell you about me?” You asked, for some reason curious if the asshole had talked about you.

“Oh I’ve seen you two coming back, I sometimes wait at the gates around the time your job ends.”

Of course he hadn’t spoken about you, not that it mattered. “Right. Your Joel’s kid?”

She laughs and scoffs. “"Hell no. Do I look like I have his grumpy-ass genes?”

“No, you do not.” You chuckle.

“He’s something like that, not my dad though.”

“Ah.” You nod.

“I’m Ellie.” She looks you over.

You introduce yourself to her. “It’s nice to meet you-“ “Ellie? Christ, I was lookin’ for you.” A voice cuts in from behind you. Joel’s. Ellie’s eyes widen a bit.

“Shit, now my sneak attack didn’t fucking work!” She says.

Joel comes closer, before realizing who Ellie is talking to. You look at him as he stands next you. His brows pulled together a bit as he looks back at Ellie, not saying a word to you.

“I hit her in the face with a fucking snowball. My aim is crazy good, I thought you were coming round the corner but it was her-“ Ellie says, proud of her aim and also a bit apologetic about hitting you in the face. “Language.” Joel mutters.

“Right, I should get going. It was nice talking to you Ellie.” You smile shortly and start making way. That’s put to a halt when Joel suddenly grabs your arm. It’s a light grab. You shiver. Your head shoots back to him and he lets go.

“Y’still got my gloves.” He says, his voice gruff with a hint of irritation, his eyes not even meeting yours until he’s done talking.

“Oh right. I’ll get them to you, if you think I’m capable enough for that.”  You say flatly before walking off. Joel sighs sharply.

“Geez, what was that about?” Ellie snorts.

--

The next day you had made it your task to get the gloves back to Joel. Having to see him every Thursday was enough, so you really hadn’t looked forward to this.

It was early in the morning, you hadn’t really slept well. Rolling around in bed all night, thinking about the past never worked for a good night sleep. So as soon as it was a bit more of an appropriate time to drop by someone’s house, you made your way to Joel Miller’s place.

The town was quiet, a couple birds chirping in the distant and that fresh morning breeze blew through your hair. Mornings like these made the world feel at peace. You never thought you’d become a morning person as much as you are a night person, but nights grew more unsettling while the comfort of daylight made mornings provide a sense of safety.

Joel’s porch creaked under your boots as you debated just leaving the gloves by the door. That would be easier. Less talking. Less looking at his permanently scowling face. You were just about to set them down when the door suddenly swung open.

You barely had time to step back before Joel barreled into you, shutting the door behind him with his back to the world. He mutters a curse under his breath as he turns, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of you.

“Jesus Christ-“ He exhales sharply.

Your brows knitted together. “You don’t think to check if anyone might be on your porch?”

“You don’t think maybe I don’t expect anyone at the crack of dawn?” He shoots back as he looks at you, his usual frown on his face.

You’re quiet for a moment, he’s right. You are really early. After a moment you roll your eyes and press the gloves forward. “Returning your gloves.”

Joel glances at them, then back at you, like he’s debating whether this exchange is even worth his time. Finally, he reaches out and takes them. His fingers graze yours for just a second—just enough for your stomach to twist in frustration.

The way he looks at you, like you’re beneath him.

Joel just raises the gloves a bit before walking off the porch. “Yeah, thanks.” He mutters before walking off. Leaving you standing on his porch.

“You’re welcome, asshole.” You quietly mutter.

When it’s time for lunch, you decide to head into the dining hall with Selene. Aaron was on patrol so it was just a simple girls moment for the two of you.

“I can’t believe Joel just walked off like that! Maybe he’s just that into you that he gets all nervous and stuff.” Selene giggles.

“Right, that’s totally it. It’s not the fact I called him out on being a monster cause his loved one died.” You say, silencing Selene completely as she turns red. “Yeah.. Cold.. Maybe he’s not into you.” She quietly replies before taking a bite of her sandwich.

It didn’t take long for you to become close friends with Selene. She was a social butterfly and you like to think you also were one. So you quickly started confiding in each other, gossiping and chatting about anything and everything. The only thing you just kept to yourself was your past. She didn’t talk much about hers either, so you took it as a topic that was off limits for the both of you. You preferred it that way.

“I do regret saying it. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely despise how he behaved at the outpost. But still, I stooped down to his level. I acted cold and that’s just so unlike me.” You picked at the crust of your bread.

It was true, you regretted saying what you said. It took you a moment to understand how you could say such cruel things. You’ve always been really empathic but Joel had triggered memories of Dane. It made you want to be cold, it made you want to hurt him. To hurt Dane. To turn off the overflow of emotions. You did hate Joel though, no matter how much PTSD you had, the way he had handled the situation was awful.

“What’s done is done. Honestly, don’t even give it too much attention. He’s obviously an ass. Maybe it’s good he heard it from someone. He looks like the type of guy that doesn’t get a lot of back talk.” Selene says before taking a bite. “I know I’d be too scared to give him back talk.”

“You’re right. I’m going to go do the repair job Thursday, completely nail it, no pun intended and I’ll show him he can’t bother me!” You whip your hair as you laugh.

“Mhm, atta girl!” Selene chuckles.

--

As Thursday comes around, you’re ready and settled on your horse before he even arrived. You wanted to make sure there would be no possible reason for the two of you to speak unless it was absolutely necessary.

As the snow crunches below the hooves of your horses, sounds of birds chirping and the wind whistling was enough to fill the silence that you’d usually attempt to fill with your small talk. You had glanced over at Joel a couple of times, he’d be unreadable staring straight ahead.

It wasn’t often anymore that someone filled you with so much anger, it’s like every little thing he does ticks you off. The way he taps his heel against his horse every so often, the way he held the reins ever so slightly more to the left cause he knew the horse had a tendency to walk more to the right, and especially the way he always furrowed his brows. Always furrowing those damn brows.

“Quit starin’ at me.” He speaks up.

You blink, not realizing you had zoned out looking at him. “I wouldn’t dare.” You scoff as you roll your eyes.

You look ahead of you. The quiet really making you think. Yeah sure you’ve thought about apologizing to him. You’ve thought about it often, about how much you didn’t want to do it. He should apologize to you. The way he pulled the trigger so easily- the thought of it brings you shivers. That day just keeps replaying in your head, the gut dropping feeling you felt.

Lately everything has been reminding you of Dane and Lois and you blamed Joel for it. Hated him for it. Despised him the way he despised you. It worked out in your favor, making that cold remark to him that day. He obviously felt no need to see or speak to you more than obligated and neither did you.

As the two of you arrive at the outpost, you’re very displeased to see that the wall had caved in on the side. It takes everything in you to not grunt out loud. It’s worse than you thought—wood splintered, nails bent out of shape, snow from last night’s storm piled up against the debris.

“How did that even happen?” You exhale sharply. This meant you’d be on the job even longer.

“Christ if I know.” Joel murmers as he walks inside, he looks just as annoyed as you are.

“We need more wood,” you finally say, hating that you have to acknowledge him at all. “And nails. Probably some new support beams too.” You sounded like you actually knew what you were talking about. You felt a little proud cause of that.

That moment was shot down quickly though.

Joel lets out a humorless chuckle. “Real sharp observation.”

You glare at him. “You got a problem?”

“Nope.” He grabs an axe from the supply crate, inspecting the dull blade. “Just wonderin’ how long you’re gonna waste time statin’ the obvious before actually doin’ somethin’.”

Your blood boils. “Oh, I’m sorry, would you like me to just shut up and blindly follow your lead? ‘Cause we both know how well that worked last time.”

“Worked out just fine.” Joel replies before walking off toward the trees.

You stand there for a moment, fuming. The way he always had to have the last reply, or the better reply. If it was possible, there would be actual fire and steam coming out of you right now.

After an hour of working and not communicating, the only sound between you is the crack of splitting wood, the dull clang of nails being hammered in, and the occasional huff. The air is freezing, your breath visible as you work. Every muscle in your arms aches from chopping, lifting, and hammering.

And yet, somehow, the worst part is still him.

Your mind just keeps going back to last week. To that comment you made about his loved one. You hated him, you did. But it was just in your nature to apologize. It literally wasn’t you.

You decide to speak up, you part your lips to say something but it takes you a few more attempts to actually say something. “Hey um, about what I said last week-“

“Don’t.” Joel cuts you off, his voice sounding flat.

Your brows knit together a bit. “I just wanted to apolo-“

“Don’t.” He states firmly, leaving no room for arguing. You just blink a couple times, very confused why he’s not taking your apology. Did it hurt him that deeply? Surely other people must’ve said similar things right? This just makes you feel worse.

“Joel I am sorry about what I said. Don’t get me wrong, I hate what you did. But I’m still sorry.” You decided to push your apology further, not letting him shut you down like that.

It’s quiet for a moment, like Joel is unsure of how to respond. But when he turns to you, it’s obvious he’s bothered.

“I don’t care about your apology.” He turned to you. “Your words mean nothin’ to me.”  He said, it genuinely seeming as if he didn’t care, but you knew better. His response to it last week told you enough.   “Right, sure seemed that way.” You sigh, annoyed he can’t just take the apology.  

His eyes shoot to yours as you said that, he looks angry again.

“You just always have to have a big mouth on you, don’t you?” His voice raising slightly.

“Maybe you just can’t stand someone finally telling you how it is.” You step forward, if he wants to argue, that’s what he’ll get.

He chuckles dryly, shaking his head as he looks you up and down. “Yeah, that must be it.” His back towards you again, not engaging in this argument.

“Dickhead.” You mumble as you continue. His eyes glance towards you for a second, to make sure if you actually said it. He decides not to respond and just slightly shake his head.

Why can’t he just take the apology? He makes your blood boil. You wish you never took this stupid repair job, you literally volunteered to have fights with Joel Miller. The guy everyone moves out of the way for, the guy people rarely look in the eye. You weren't afraid, if you had something to say, he'll hear it.

[the-badger-mole]

She knows

She knows

She knows

Zuko had thought his feelings for Katara were his secret. He'd never spoken to anyone about them, and he hadn't been treating her any differently since he'd figured himself out. His feelings were his burden alone, and he intended to keep it that way. Still, she knows ricocheted through his mind. His heart seemed to beat in time to words in his brain as he tried to process everything. The clamoring of the soldiers rushing up the stone stairs; the sound of the stolen air ship coming up behind him; the feel of Katara's lips on his.

Her fingers were clenched tight around the collar of his shirt. Zuko had just come to his senses enough to reach for her waist, intent on pulling her closer, when suddenly Katara shoved him backwards off of the ledge of the broken balcony. An airbender would've caught themselves and vaulted back onto the stone legdge. Zuko was no airbender, though. Their airbender was...someplace else. Zuko wasn't entirely sure of where. So when Zuko landed on the deck of the airship with a bone rattling thump, shock kept him there for the time it took him to refill his lungs. By the time he scrambled to his feet, the ship was already pulling away. Zuko had just enough time to see Katara turn from him to face his father's soldiers. She was outnumbered by at least a dozen, but she stood tall and firm, and even from behind, Zuko could see the determination in her stance. She would fight and die to make sure that he got away safely.

"No!" Zuko shouted. He threw himself at the railing, intent on getting back to her by any means necessary. He would leap from the deck and figure out the rest on his way back. Two sets of strong hands kept him from enacting his plan.

"Let me go!" he demanded pulling against the hold on him. "I'm not leaving her!"

"Zuko!" Sokka shouted. He and Suki pulled hard throwing him against the wall of the ship. "Stop!"

"Turn back!" Zuko half demanded, half pleaded. "We have to go back for her!" He was met with Sokka and Suki's twin grimaces.

"We can't," Suki said, grimly. "We have to get you to safety."

"I don't care about my safety!" Zuko insisted. "I can't leave her behind! Sokka, she's your sister! How can you just-oof!" Sokka's punch didn't hurt so much as it caught Zuko off guard.

"Don't you dare!" Sokka growled. He stood over Zuko, rage radiating from him almost tangibly. "Don't you dare imply I'm not just as worried about Katara as you are. If it wasn't for the fact that we need you to survive the war, I would've thrown you back to them to save her in a heartbeat. But the next best thing I can do is make sure my sister's sacrifice isn't in vain. That mean's getting you to safety and making sure you don't do anything stupid like trying to take on a whole troop of firebending soldiers.

A thousand arguments flew through Zuko's mind. They were superimposed over the image of Katara facing those same solders in his mind. Everything in him was demanding they turn around that instant and rescue Katara. His gambit for the throne was meaningless in comparison to Katara's safety. So what if she had willingly sacrificed herself? So what if he were summarily executed by his father, or even his sister? His own life meant nothing if Katara weren't in it.

Sokka was right, though. Zuko was loathe to admit it, but he was right. Katara knew what she was doing, even if Zuko was certain she didn't understand the full consequence. She'd saved his life. Again. Impotent and helpless as he felt watching her do it, she'd done it willingly. She'd done it strategically. His heart railed against it, but his mind knew why she'd done it. He had the best claim to the throne, after all. They'd talked about it to exhaustion. He'd told Katara all his worries, and she'd calmed them with her certainty that he was the Fire Lord his nation deserved. He'd never gotten the chance to tell her that he though she was the Fire Lady his nation needed, though they didn't deserve her by a long shot. He'd never told her that though he didn't deserve her, he needed her. Like he needed water.

She knew, though. She knew his weakness, and she'd used it. Zuko could still feel the pressure of her lips on his. Could still feel the way her hand tightened on his collar as she prepared to shove him away even while she was pulling him closer. She knew what she could do to him even in the midst of battle.

"They probably won't kill her," Suki said quietly. Both Sokka and Zuko looked up sharply.

"What?" Sokka gasped.

"They probably won't kill her," Suki repeated. "She's too valuable a prisoner. The daughter of the Southern Water Tribe chief? The... the friend of Prince Zuko? She's useful. If she surrenders, she will have a fighting chance." Suki's mouth was pressed into a thin, grim line. She was upset, too, Zuko realized. Maybe almost as upset as Sokka and Zuko were. Only almost, though. Zuko couldn't imagine his future without Katara in it, and Sokka had always been his sister's protector. As Zuko met Sokka's eye across the deck, he knew the Water Tribe warrior had made the same decision he had. If Katara was alive, neither would rest until she was safe again. The details of their rescue mission would have to wait until they could discuss them in private, but they would be going after her.

Part 2

[pausgirl2]

"Bad Day" | Pablo Gavi.

Summary: Since his operation, Pablo has felt quite discouraged and grumpy, and one day he makes the mistake of lashing out at the person who has been most there for him.

Warnings: angst

a/n; it's a little long but hope you enjoy 😬

ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ

A couple of months had passed since Pablo went injured and had to undergo surgery. This left everyone sad, and had obviously caused a complete change in the boy's attitude, clearly for the worse. He looked more down and insecure, even though Xavi and his teammates assured him that he would be fine soon, Pablo still couldn't stop being clouded by bad thoughts.

And since that happened daily, you had been trying to support and be aware of your boyfriend's needs at all times, and added to that, your studies and household chores were exhausting you but you tried to cope with everything as best as possible.

So you tried not to let yourself get so carried away by the pressure and stress of this and help Pablo as much as possible, be it bathing and so on.

Although sometimes (all the time, actually) the boy was too stubborn and childish to let himself be helped, especially when it was bath time.

Like the other afternoon...

He came home after another special training session in a visibly foul mood. Like always, Pablo entered slamming the door loudly, causing a couple picture frames to shake on the wall—you flinched at the noise from the living room, dropping your book onto your lap. You could tell from the sound of his heavy footsteps that he was mad.

The boy passed through the hallway, without even giving you a glance and stormed directly into the bedroom, muttering under his breath.

"This is so damn frustrating," he grumbled, yanking clothes out of the drawer. He grabbed a towel and headed to the bathroom, slamming the door again behind him.

You, accustomed to this routine, took a deep breath and grabbed a couple of fresh towels. As she approached the bathroom door, she could hear the water running and Pablo's irritated mutterings. She knocked gently, "Pablo, mi vida, do you need any help?"

"No! Que puedo hacerlo yo solo, joder!" He snapped from the other side. (I can do it myself, damn it!)

She sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and worry. You hated seeing him like this, full of anger and pain. "Pablo, I just want to help. Please, let me in," You insisted softly, hoping to soothe him, since last time, he almost fell in the shower and all because of his stubbornness.

Instead of a calm response, the door flung open and the boy stood there, his face flushed with anger. "I said no!" He shouted, before slamming once again the door, this time in her face, miraculously not hitting the tip of her nose in the process. The sudden action startled her, leaving her standing still.

You stood there for a moment, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You were tired of this attitude but you knew that it was the frustration and pain talking, not the Pablo you loved. With a long face, she decided to wait on the bed, just in case he changed his mind. She didn't want to bother him too much because she knew how he reacted to persistent help, and she hated fighting.

Minutes ticked by, feeling like hours. She could hear him moving around in the bathroom, the sound of water splashing and occasional mutterings of frustration. She felt helpless, torn between wanting to give him space and the need to be there for him.

ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩

Today was a pretty bad day for you, since last week you had 3 important exams for which you spent hours studying but you still had the feeling that everything would turn out well, but to your surprise you failed.

This left a really bad feeling in your stomach all morning, yet you tried to distract yourself with other subjects and then making lunch for when Pablo arrived from his trials.

As you were turning off the frying pan, you heard the door open and close with a loud slam, something you were already getting used to. You wiped your hands with the rag and trotted to the entrance hall, where Pablo was struggling to take off his jacket.

"Hey, Pablito, do you need help with your—"

"No, I'm fine," The boy said through gritted teeth, interrupting her still struggling. The girl raised her eyebrows as she still watched him.

"Pablo, just let me do it for you—"

"Joder, déjame en paz!" Pablo snapped, his frustration boiling over. (Fuck, leave me alone)

Y/N rolled her eyes, starting to get irritated as well.

"Sometimes everything would be a little easier if you would just let me help you," Y/N crossed her arms.

"I told you dozens of times that I don't need your help. I can do things on my own, you know?" He said, finally hanging his jacket reluctantly on the coat rack.

"Well, I saw you struggle a lot with that jacket, so I don't know—"

"Y/N," The boy told her in a warning tone, interrupted her again, thing that was already starting to annoy the girl, who looked at him with a frown.

"Jeez! You should stop being so stubborn, Pablo, I was just trying to help," she murmured again, after releasing a heavy sigh, watching him walk towards the kitchen, slowly starting to follow him closely.

"Well, I don't need it! I don't need you!" He barked harshly, quickly turning to look at her.

Y/N froze, suddenly stunned by those words. She would never have imagined hearing Pablo say something like that. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back, trying to stay strong.

'He doesn't need me?'

"Fine." She murmured in a small voice.

And without another word, the girl turned and walked away, cautiously closing the bedroom door, her heart feeling heavy already. The tears she had been holding back for those few seconds finally fell down her cheeks once she slid onto the door.

All the pressure and stress she had tried to suppress was finally taking its toll, and added to Pablo's outburst towards her, she felt that everything was too much. Y/N had reached her breaking point.

In the other room, Pablo let out a heavy sigh, while running a hand through his hair. He turned around and his eyes landed on the pan with food still warm on the stove, and the plates set out ready to be placed on the table.

The sight made him feel a pang of guilt so intense that it took him a while to realize the tears forming in his own eyes. Y/N always took care of everything—shit, even of him, and yet he took it upon himself to act like an ungrateful and insensitive jerk, and now Pablo thought about all the previous moments in which he behaved in the same way.

Pablo's heart broke a little more when he heard the inconsolable cries of the girl being cushioned by the door. He sat at the kitchen table, staring at the food Y/N had prepared, his appetite gone.

[freshluvr]

dealer!chris and sweet!reader’s first interaction

⚠︎ mentions of y/n, greening out, being filmed, swearing, nasty girls - if there’s anything else lmk xx ⚠︎

Sixteen year old y/n didn’t even know how she got to where she was. One minute, her supposed-friends were pressuring her into smoking a joint, and the next she was sat on the floor, eyes rolling back, greening out. Tears were streaming down her face as she desperately reached out for help. She tried to grab onto any of her friends, but they all stood back laughing. Four phones were shoved in y/n’s face as she continuously threw up on the ground. Her eyes had grown so puffy that she could barely see, and the ringing in her ears had grown so loud she could barely hear. She felt completely detached from the universe, until she felt a foot in her side, kicking her unstable body to the ground. The laughter grew louder, and her feeling of nausea grew stronger. y/n felt absolutely helpless - as if she’d die right here, on that park, being filmed by the girls she thought were her friends.

That was until she heard the sound of wheels scraping on the floor getting louder and louder, heading towards the embarrassing scene. A male voice filled her ears: “hey! get the fuck away from her!” y/n tried to look up, to see who was coming to help her, but all she could see was a tall, blurry figure blocking her fragile body from the cameras. The unknown boy grabbed one of the girl’s phones and smashed it on the ground in an instant. “I said get the fuck away!” he spat in a low, menacing voice. The girls scoffed and stormed away from the scene, laughing quietly to themselves.

A beat of silence passed before the figure turned and bent down to reach y/n’s level. Unexpectedly, a gentle hand moved her messy hair from her face as he helped her sit up. “you’re okay, I’ve got you,” he cooed, wiping her mouth with his sleeve and rubbing her back. She looked up at him through squinted eyes, desperately trying to see who was helping her. “C-Chris?” she managed to whimper out. Chris and y/n went to the same school, though Chris was in the year above. They’d occasionally see each other around, they even followed each other on Instagram, but neither of them ever spoke in person. They were complete opposites. y/n was a sweet, innocent girl who tried her best to be kind to everyone. Chris was a cold hearted, sarcastic loner who smoked pot and spoke his mind about anything, cruel or not.

“‘s right. You’re y/n, yeah? You’re part of the council at school?.” he was trying to keep her grounded, trying to let her know she was still okay and nothing bad was happening. “mhm,” she confirmed, nodding her head and doing her best to smile politely despite the situation. A soft wind blew over them, and y/n shivered a concerning amount. Thinking quickly, Chris unzipped his north face jacket, pulled her body into his, and wrapped the coat around her. The mix of the warmth of the coat and the body heat radiating from Chris was enough to regulate y/n’s temperature.

Chris stroked her hair gently, calming her down whilst whispering soothing affirmations in her ear, letting her know she’d be okay. “C’mon let’s get you up ma, gotta get you home.”

a/n - I really hope you guys like this!! If you don’t please let me know and tell me what I can do better xx

creds to @bernardsbendystraws for the amazing divider𑁤

tag: @chrissweetheart

lmk if you wanna be tagged!!

𝐉ꨄ

[phantomwithbreakfast]

༺ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 ༻

×͜×

One-shot.

⟢ Danny Phantom Phan Fic • Genre: Angst / No Comfort / Horror • AU • TW: Strong Language — Emotional Distress — Dissociation — Identity Conflict — Self-destructive Tendencies? — Violence — Harassment? • T+ rate

Summary: Danny couldn’t take the burden anymore.

Post Scriptum: this is @ghostlyglimmer her Phantom design appearance. (I made some kind of fan art hehe)

♫ ▸ Fear, hear. Close, stars. Dream. Tell me what you want, I know the truth. Tryin’ my best to get approve. It hurts so bad, so why I still. You think I’m not right for you. — Akiaura, Olya Holiday

Danny could still feel it.

The icy, metallic bite of the scalpel, the sharp sting as it tore him open—body and soul—while he lay there, restrained, helpless, watching her face. That expression she had… it had been so calm—so determined, as though he wasn’t her son anymore.

Just another specimen, another project, another ghost to vivisect. Something that she thought was broken and needed to be fixed.

The memory had burned itself into Danny’s consciousness, a nightmare that replayed every time he closed his eyes, a memory refusing to fade.

Because you are broken. You always have been. She knew it. That’s why she cut so deep.

But the worst part wasn’t the memory of her hands or the instruments.

No, it was that feeling.

She didn’t just cut flesh. She took what was left of your whole being. You felt it, didn’t you? How empty you are now?

And the nightmares—God, those fxcking nightmares—they never stopped. They twisted and writhed in his sleep, warping the familiar into something monstrous. He would wake up gasping, his heart pounding in his chest, drenched in sweat. But lately, the nightmares weren’t just confined to the hours of darkness. They bled into his waking moments, seeping into reality like poison. Sometimes, he wasn’t sure if he was awake or still trapped in the dream—no, the nightmare where his mother’s hands cut him apart, piece by agonizing piece.

Because you’re not her son. You never were. You were always just… a thing, a specimen, a ghost to rip apart molecule by molecule, something to be dissected, to take out the part of your whole existence, something to be controlled.

Some part of him wished he hadn’t retained the memories. That they had been lost with the ectoplasm and blood that pooled beneath the table that day. It would’ve been easier that way.

Forgetting would mean freedom.

But no.

He remembered every god damn thing. Every fxcking second of pain, every scream that got stuck in his throat, every look of indifference on her face as she cut deeper and deeper and deeper… reaching for something inside him that she could or would never understand.

You’ll never be free. These memories are a part of you now, carved into you. You can’t escape what you’ve become.

He had tried to forget. Tried to drown out the voice that whispered relentlessly in the back of his mind, reminding him of that moment. But it clung to him like a shadow.

It was always there, always lurking.

It followed him in every quiet of every fxcking moment, in every breath he took.

You’re not her son anymore. She made sure of that, didn’t she?

The voice wasn’t wrong.

He wasn’t sure if he was even Danny anymore. That boy, the one who laughed with his friends, who dreamed of going to space, who loved his family—he had died on that table, didn’t he?

He had been replaced with something hollow, something that didn’t belong anywhere, not in this world or the next.

A ghost.

A freak.

Something no one will ever understand. They’ll never see you as anything else but the monster you are now.

Danny had felt it—his essence, his very being—pulled apart.

And for what? To save him?

No.

To rip him from himself. To tear Phantom from Danny.

She didn’t want her Danny back. She wanted the ghost that lives in you. The weapon. She wanted Phantom—ME. Not you. You’re nothing without my power, and you know it.

The boy she had wanted to save was gone.

And now, what was left?

A hollow shell. A creature caught between two worlds, not welcome in either. She’ll never love you again. No one ever will.

A monster. A freak. A ghost masquerading as a human being, torn between worlds, torn apart by the hands that were supposed to love him.

Nobody understands you—us. They never will. You’re not just Danny anymore. We are something else entirely.

“Shut up, shut up, SHUT UUUUPPPP!”

Danny’s voice cracked, trembling with desperation as he yanked at his pitch black hair. But the pain barely registered. His hands clutched his head, trying to suffocate the voice, trying to tear it out of his mind.

But it wouldn’t stop—it never fxcking stopped.

He had enough of it.

The whispering—the venomous, incessant voice crawling through his skull—it was driving him mad.

He wanted silence. No, he needed silence.

Danny clenched his fists, his nails stinging into the flesh of his palms as a raw scream tore through him. A flash of light enveloped his body, blinding and electric, as he transformed into his ghost form.

He phased through his bedroom floor, his movements frantic and unsteady, like a man running from his own shadow, heading for the basement lab. It loomed cold and dark, but his eyes zeroed in on the Ghost Catcher, sitting untouched like a forgotten object, coated with dust and neglect.

Danny grabbed it, his hands trembling.

He didn’t stop to think.

He couldn’t think.

Flying back into his room, his chest heaved with shallow, ragged breaths.

Without hesitation, he hurled himself through the glowing green wires of the device.

The pain hit like a lightning strike. Danny collapsed onto the wooden floor with a loud thud, face down, his limbs heavy as if weighted with lead. Every nerve in his body screamed as he rolled over, gasping for air, his vision swimming with dark spots.

And then… he saw it.

Illuminated in an unnatural white glow, was Phantom, floating above him.

But…

It was not the Phantom he knew, not… him.

This was pure. Unrestrained. Horrific.

Its glowing green eyes were sunken deep into hollow sockets, smoldering like toxic embers. Its snow-white hair hung loose, disheveled, and eerily bright. Its ashen, deathly skin stretched taut over black bones that jutted sharply beneath. A jagged, Y-shaped scar tore across its chest, oozing faint streaks of ectoplasm. Its left arm was marred with a lightning-bolt pattern that seemed alive, sparking faintly with energy. Shark-like teeth protruded from its grotesque grin, glistening with green slime that dripped to the floor in viscous splatters.

Danny’s heart pounded violently against his ribs, his breath came in shallow gasps as he scrambled backward on trembling arms, his back slamming into a corner of his room.

“What the fxck?” he whispered, his voice cracking. “What the fxck? What the fxck?”

“Don’t you worry, my human being,” Phantom drawled, its low voice a chilling echo, soft yet venomous, curling around the dim room like a noose. “I’m not going to kill you.”

It floated closer, its eerie glow casting fractured shadows over Danny’s trembling body.

A cruel smirk tugged at Phantom’s lips as it stared into Danny’s eyes.

“I am—you, after all. And… oh, well,” it leaned in, its voice dropping to a hushed, sinister whisper, “you are MINE.”

Danny shuddered, his knees drawn tight to his chest, his body trembling as Phantom’s icy presence seeped into the air.

There was no escape.

Nowhere to run.

Nowhere to hide.

Danny sat motionless, paralyzed. His body trembled, his mind spiraling as the cold realization clawed its way through him.

“What… what the fxck have I done?” Danny croaked, barely audible, like a broken suffocating whisper.

Phantom chuckled, low and guttural, echoing through the quiet air.

In an instant, its cold, clawed hand shot forward, seizing Danny by his throat.

The icy grip tightened, cutting off his breath, crushing him beneath its suffocating strength.

Shadows crept in, stealing the edges of Danny’s light, until all blurred into a boundless black void.

There were no screams, no sounds anymore.

Only the silence Danny longed for.

⟢ Inspiration sources: S01 • EP06 — What You Want + S02 • EP08/09 — The Ultimate Enemy.

⟢ I can’t see my Phantom as some kind of monster—a creepy little fella. So instead, I drew someone else’s, which gave me an idea to write another one-shot. Which! Has nothing to do with the original backstory of this Phantom.

⟢ Eventually, while I was drawing this, I learned about the human skeleton, lol.

[domnamewoman]

I was wondering if I could request an angst we’re all of the MK 2023 characters S/O get turned injured severely by Titian Shang Tsung (could have a happy end, could not…up too you!)

Characters: Liu Kang, Raiden, Kung Lao, Johnny Cage, Kenshi Takahashi, Kitana, Mileena, Tanya, Sub-Zero, Scorpion, Smoke, Reptile, Baraka, Shang Tsung, Rain

Warnings: Angst 😭, Canon-Typical Violence

Masterlist

Requests Are Open

Liu Kang’s heart stopped as he saw your body lying there, lifeless on the ground. He bent down to cradle you in his arms as tears fell from his eyes. He couldn’t believe it, the love of his life was now gone. He blamed himself for not getting there in time. Why was fate always so cruel, was he really destined to be alone? No, no he wouldn’t accept it. He was the Keeper of Time. He would reverse time and make sure that he is here to prevent such a horrid outcome. He would end Titan Shang Tsung once and for all.

Raiden felt as though he could throw up as he looked at your unconscious body lying in the bed. Titan Shang Tsung had blasted you off a cliff and you hit your head on a rock when you landed. The physician told Raiden that you were in a coma from the head injury. There was no telling when you would wake up or if you ever would. Raiden held your hand and rested his forehead on it as he let his tears fall. All he could do was stay by your side and wait. And he would, even if it was forever.

Kung Lao was angry. At himself for not being there, at the physicians for not being able to save you, but mostly at Titan Shang Tsung. He was the cause of all of this. Kung Lao placed one last kiss on your lips as he promised you to get revenge. He would stop at nothing to see Titan Shang Tsung taken down. He pushed his grief to the side and focused on making a plan to get to Titan Shang Tsung. He would grieve once his promise to you was fulfilled.

Johnny Cage struggled to find meaning in anything anymore. Without you, there just wasn’t any point to life for Johnny. Who cared about the movies, or the awards, or even saving Earthrealm from destruction? He couldn’t bring you back by doing any of it so he deemed it all useless. Johnny stopped trying, losing his arrogance and bravado. How great is “Johnny Cage” if he can’t even save his love? He was nothing but a failure in his eyes now and that’s how he would live.

Kenshi Takahashi felt all the joy in his life slipping away as he felt your blood slip through his fingers where he was applying pressure to your wound. He tried to smile and reassure you that the physician was on their way and you would make it out alive but he knew it was too late. He knelt there, helpless as you exhaled your final breath, going completely limp. Kenshi sat there with you in his arms for hours, pushing away Johnny and Kung Lao as they tried to get him to let you go. He couldn’t, not ever.

Kitana released a scream as she heard your neck snap at the hands of Titan Shang Tsung. Why? Why did it have to be you to charge at him? Why didn’t you listen to her when she told you to wait? Why couldn’t she move fast enough to prevent this from happening? Kitana gripped your shirt and cried into your chest as the fight continued around her. How was she supposed to go on? But she had to, for you. It’s what you would have wanted her to do. She vows to you as she grabs her bladed fans that she will avenge your death.

Mileena spent all of her time trying to find someone to help you. She was the Empress and she would spare no cost of getting the best physicians, the best medicine, whatever was needed to accelerate your healing process. The court could be mad all they wanted, but she didn’t care about her duties. Her only priority right now was seeing you healthy and back on your feet again. The only thing that could distract her from this is any updates on Titan Shang Tsung’s whereabouts. She would make sure that he died by her hands for harming her love.

Tanya watched in unbelief as Titan Shang Tsung stuck his claws deep into your abdomen. You crumpled to the ground, coughing up blood. Tanya rushed over and held you in her arms. She didn’t know how could she let this happen. She was Umgadi for goodness sake. And yet, she could protect her love from danger. She pulled you out of the path of battle, making sure you were as comfortable as you could be as she applied pressure to your wounds. She would make sure that you survived no matter what.

Bi-Han was filled with rage. Titan Shang Tsung dared to take his love away from him. How could Bi-Han call himself Earthrealm’s protector when he couldn’t even protect you? No, he would make Titan Shang Tsung pay for what he did. Bi-Han would gather all of the Lin Kuei and hunt him down. No longer was their purpose protecting Earthrealm. Their only mission was to kill Titan Shang Tsung to avenge the death of his lover. Nothing else mattered or was more important to him.

Kuai Liang couldn’t control the fire rolling off of his body as he saw you there unmoving, at Titan Shang Tsung’s feet. He rushed toward him, swinging out his chained knives aiming for his head. Kuai Liang fought with everything in him, letting his anger fuel his fire. He didn’t worry about his own well-being, what was the point now that you were gone? He ignored all the pain from his injuries and pressed on. He would put an end to Titan Shang Tsung, or he would die trying.

Tomas ran with all his might holding on to your limp body. He had to get you to a physician and quick. He couldn’t, no, he wouldn’t lose another family member. After his family was killed and he joined the Lin Kuei, he thought he would never have to go through heartache like that again. He couldn’t imagine a world without you. He pleaded with you to stay with him as he looked down at you taking shallow breaths. He ignored the burning in his legs and he pushed himself to run faster. He won’t lose you too.

Syzoth didn’t believe what they told him when he arrived at the palace. How could you be dead? It wasn’t possible. While he was out on a mission Titan Shang Tsung attacked? No, no that couldn’t be. He continued to deny it until they brought him to see your body. This couldn’t be happening to him again. Why could he never protect his loved ones? Why did he always have to be left completely alone? He will get his revenge. He will take away everything that Titan Shang Tsung has ever held dear.

Baraka knew that fate could be cruel when he got infected with Tarkat. But he thought he would be allowed some form of happiness in his life. That proved to be wrong when you were killed, leaving him all alone. Baraka could feel his sanity slipping. He was left with nothing yet again. The only one he loved was taken from him. All he could think about was shredding Titan Shang Tsung into pieces. He would turn into the savage beast everyone thought he was. He had nothing more to lose.

Shang Tsung couldn’t believe you were killed. To make matters worse, it was at the hands of his doppelganger. Shang Tsung would question what type of person he was for there to be a version of himself out there that would commit such a heinous act. Shang Tsung would practice all the sorcery in the world to find a way to bring you back. He didn’t care how many souls he had to steal. Starting with the soul of Titan Shang Tsung. He would prove that he was the best version in all timelines.

Zeffeero dropped to his knees in front of your lifeless body. What was it all for? He spent all his time trying to get power and status and for what? Just for the beloved to no longer be a part of his life? Zeffeero looked up, no one seemed to notice you, the most important person to him, lying on the cold ground. No, they didn’t get to go on with their lives like nothing happened. He would ruin their lives just like his now was. He would rain down an endless flood and drown them all.