#and i just ????????????? hey what you never mentioned bleeding to me? dude? you KEPT MAKING SHORT JOKES

[moeblob]

OK I swear the reason I'm showing you this will have context in a couple days! But also, the fact B&N has a section dedicated to "well he may be a ten buuuuut" and included my current crime of "he's blonde" is like. Dang. Called out.

Didn't help I saw this with a guy and I said "oh no, my blonde enjoyer crimes called out!" and he said "better than redheads" and I'm like. "Sir, I have to inform you of my previous crime." and he was not pleased as he said "Fish... why....."

[away-ward]

Hi, i dont know if youve mentioned this before, but out of all the couples in DN, why is willemmy your fav? I love willemmy too and i love your fics, especially No Apologies and Hell Yeah. In fact, i found you from ao3 actually, but i only found out through your tumblr account here that there's a part 4 to No Apologies and then read the rest. Hope you day was amazing!

Hey! I really didn't think anyone would find me from ao3. I thought it would always happen in reverse, but it's good to know that my fics are reaching people that way too. Hell Yeah was my first willemmy, so I have a special soft spot for it. Really happy that others like it as well.

I have answered your question in another post, but it was a longer response and a bit towards the bottom. Basically, willemmy hit a lot of my favorite tropes and I feel that their past scenes are the most... romantic? There's just so many moments that make my heart bleed for these two. In fact, I didn't even like the present scenes at first and was joking with a friend that I was going to find a way to get just the past scenes on a pdf so that I didn't have to deal with skipping around. That's all I wanted. Eventually, I developed an... I'm not sure "appreciation" is the right word, but a tolerance the other parts of the book and the series as a whole.

For others who are interested, I read the whole series last year...

I started with corrupt from the library (before KU made it against their policy... this becomes important later), and really enjoyed the past scenes there. I like friendships and in fiction and heist stories (and a little mystery and a little crime), and the guys sort of pranking the town felt similar in a way, just lower stakes. I really liked Thunder Bay, which felt like it had a life and personality all it's own. The mystery of who set them to prison was... well, I questioned why Rika didn't seem to know why they were angry which tipped me off early that she wasn't the one who did it but I never predicted what the twist was. I really liked the gazebo scene. Will's determination to burn it was interesting, as was the conversation between Rika and Michael about the little nerd he loved. It made me want to peek behind the current of his mind a little to see what was going on in there.

As far as the horsemen, in corrupt, my favorite was Kai. He seemed intelligent and mysterious, which I really like in a character. I went into Hideaway eagerly, but was a little disappointed with how much he complained about stuff. And I liked Banks well enough, but I wasn't as interested in the mystery of the pope or their past scenes. But I like them together and they seem like a good match, which was fine.

I wasn't interested in reading about Damon and Winter, and their book was a bit of a drag for me. I felt bad for Damon and what he went through, but I also understood Winter's anger. For the most part, I thought Damon's healing... felt a bit rushed. I understand that a lot is probably going on behind the scenes now that we're not in his POV, but he seemed to bounce back really quickly from angry little gremlin dude to suave bad boy with a dark past (I liked the little gremlin dude. he was fun). I didn't like that Winter's love healed him. Why do we put that on female characters? I really didn't like that Rika and Damon were related. But Gabriel died and that was cool, I guess. Damon deserved that victory, in the very least.

Up to this point, I kept expecting we'd get even more hints about Will's past love. He's the last, so it had to be good right? Worth waiting for? Since a year goes by between each book, and with Conclave we learned that Will's been gone longer than a year, so with all that time, Will's reason for being angry with this girl was going to need to be good... right??? But the build up in the other books was nonexistent. The hints were so nonexistent that I actually read past Hideaway's the first time and had to go back to Kill Switch to understand that 'oh... it's about Emory. Got it.' I had lost a lot of interest and almost didn't care about Will at all. Plus, his reactions and way of interacting with the other girls was beginning to be a huge turn off. Who cares if he loves the little nerd, I'm so bored with this guy, was my feeling. In addition to all of that, it had been removed from my library's ebook catalogue. The audiobook was still there and I gave it a shot, but it was a quick no-go for me. I'm not one for audiobooks, anyway.

I threw my hands up and was ready to walk away. The series had bored me, the friendships weren't developed in a way that I would have liked. I saw the potential there and could push through a lot of my own HCs about how things were supposed to be, but I wanted a free way to spend my time with low effort. Enjoying this series was becoming a lot of work.

Around this time, tumblr was also pushing their 2 months of kindle unlimited ad. And it took me about one month of wondering about the little nerd to finally buy in.

It took me another four months to finally get angry enough to write Hell Yeah and then create this blog. The rest is history.

So you'll notice that most of my writings are an attempt to answer or fill in problems or holes I saw in their story.

Hell Yeah was an attempt to see how Emory would eventually work into the group, and recover for the truly stupid things said to her by these people before that. I understand she forgave them. But did they apologize?????

See You Around was my way of guess how they first met. I was super mad that we got a flashback to when Michael was three so we can see how he met Rika - a girl he literally knew since she was born. Did we need to see it? I guess, to understand his anger with Trevor, it was necessary (no it wasn't. We got it. At least I did.) We saw Banks and Kai meet in the confession booth and we saw Damon and Winter as children in the fountain.

What did we get for Willemmy? I loved her since I was fourteen and saw her through a fence. - not a direct quote. But I was mad.

It grew from there.

Anyway, I'm really happy that the fics are filling voids for others as well, and that I get to have these kinds of discussions with people. At least out of the grief this series as caused me, we found something to enjoy.

Sorry for babbling. But thanks for the question. And I did have a really good day on the day you asked. I hope you're having a wonderful day too!

[pies-writes-and-more]

covered in bruises

word count: 2,611

pairing: tsukishima kei x fem!reader

warnings: brief mentions of blood, nosebleeds, bruises, and scuffs/cuts, also a bitchy ex-boyfriend who sucks and shares some private pics. also some swearing cause it’s me (but i promise it’s fluffy!!!)

a/n: i genuinely have no clue where this idea came from but I’m a sucker for partners taking care of each other after a fight or something so tadah. thank you to @satan-ruler-of-hells for helping me with the ending and @thisnoodlewritesao3 for helping me with the title! i hope you guys enjoy!

haikyuu masterlist

A few years ago, if you had told Y/N Y/L/N that she would be answering a phone call in the dead of night from Yamaguchi, she probably would’ve guessed that the two of them had forgotten about some project they were supposed to complete and the pair would’ve spent all night working on it while Tsukishima slept peacefully knowing he had finished it.

What Y/N never guessed on happening was Tsukishima stumbling through her front door, only barely being held up by Yamaguchi, the blond’s face covered in scuff marks and blood dripping from his nose and lips.

“What the hell happened?” Y/N gaped, immediately rushing to Tsukishima’s other side and helping him into the kitchen.

“Don’t even get me started,” Yamaguchi grumbled, muttering something about keeping your mouth shut and never would’ve gotten into this mess.

“Stop grumbling. I’m fine. You’re fine. Everyone’s fine,” Tsukishima huffed, pushing the two of them off but swaying a little.

“Tsukishima Kei, what the hell happened to you? You look like you got into a fight!” Y/N stared at him for a moment, watching as his gaze flickered away from hers. She glanced at Yamaguchi, as if hoping that would bring some answers, but he just glared at Tsukishima as well. “I’ll get the first aid kit,” she said after a beat of silence, walking to the other room.

There was a flurry of hushed whispers as she left, Yamaguchi insisting to Tsukishima that he needed to tell her what was going and Tsukishima being blatantly stupid and insisting that there was in fact, nothing going on.

By the time that Y/N returned, hands filled with some spare tissues and bandages, sprays and cotton balls, Yamaguchi had thrown up his hands in the air in exasperation, “I give up. I brought him this far. He’s your problem now,” he groaned, shaking his head towards Y/N. “I’m sorry for dumping him on you, but maybe you can talk some sense into him.”

Y/N and Tsukishima watched as Yamaguchi stormed off, leaving both of them in an awkward silence.

“Are you going to stand there or are you going to help me?” Tsukishima grumbled after a bit, sitting down on a nearby dining chair. 

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him, part of her wanting to smack him in the head but thinking better of it considering his injuries. “Here, hold this to your nose,” she insisted, handing him the tissues as she glanced over his body. From what she could see, the most damage was on his face but if he could keep his nosebleed in order, she could tend to the scrapes and cuts that were starting to bleed on his knuckles.

Pulling up a chair next to him, Y/N sprayed some hydrogen peroxide onto his knuckles. Tsukishima inhaled sharply, pulling away from her grip as he winced, “What the hell is that?” He glared at her, trying not to make it obvious just how much that fucking hurt.

“Give me your fucking hands, Kei,” Y/N demanded, holding her hands out with another vicious look. “You gotta spray them before they get all infected.”

The boy hesitated before slowly letting her hands take his, bracing himself this time as she dabbed away the blood and finally wrapped it up in some medical bandages. “I’ll get you something cold for your nose, hang on,” she mumbled, shuffling to the freezer and digging through to find something helpful.

Tsukishima shifted awkwardly, trying to glance around at anything else so he didn’t have to sit in the silence. “Are you not going to ask?” He muttered out finally, avoiding her eyes as he checked to see how much his nose was still bleeding.

“How about I assume it was something stupid?” she quipped, bringing over a cold ice pack. “Here, I use this sometimes when my muscles hurt after swimming practice.”

He nodded slowly, placing it over his nose in hopes of bringing down any swelling. Now that he was sitting here and his adrenaline was going down, everything was starting to ache a lot more.

“It wasn’t stupid,” Tsukishima murmured, glancing at her for a moment. 

Y/N laughed a bit, shaking her head, “Sure it wasn’t.”

Tsukishima frowned tightly, watching her as she cleaned him up. Her fingers delicately working along his skin, checking for any other cuts or scrapes along his arm. “Why would it be something stupid?”

“Because, the Tsukishima Kei that I grew up with only fought with snarky comebacks and sneers,” Y/N laughed a bit at the memories, glancing up at him and brushing her fingers along the cut on his eyebrow. 

“Wouldn’t that mean that if I had to punch someone, it would be something serious?”

The girl couldn’t contain her laughter anymore, thinking about this string bean of a boy throwing hands, “You punched someone? It kinda just looks like you got used as a punching bag.”

“Hey, it was 3 to 1. And I left some pretty good cuts on them too, thank you very much,” Tsukishima groaned a bit as Y/N dabbed a bit of the peroxide on his eyebrow, swatting at her hand, “Okay okay. I think it’s clean now!”

“So if one of these gets infected, will you be bitching like a little baby then too?” She shot back, smacking his hand away from hers. “How’s your nose?”

Tsukishima pulled the tissues and cold pack away from his face, letting Y/N examine him, “Well, I don’t think it’s broken so you’ll probably be fine. Just don’t take a volleyball to the face anytime soon.”

He just rolled his eyes as she went to start a kettle, insisting that tea was good for healing. 

“If I asked what it was about would you be honest?” Y/N questioned as she brought over two cups of tea.

“Would you believe me if I said they had just such punchable faces?”

“No.”

“Then no.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, kicking at his shin from under the table and making him whine a bit more, “Hey! I’m bruised all over the place!”

“Tell me what happened! Yamaguchi thought I should know so why shouldn’t I know?”

Tsukishima just looked away, fingers drumming along the mug that was warming his hands. “Just... some dude doing some dumb shit. Saying stupid things about...”

“About?”

“About you.”

Y/N stared at him for what felt like an eternity. Tsukishima wasn’t exactly the number one best example of a friend. And it wasn’t like there weren’t people before who didn’t like her. There were bound to be people saying shit.

“What did they say? Do I know them?” She asked finally, thinking back about the list of people she had in her head who definitely didn’t like her.

“It doesn’t matter, they were just being idiots,” Tsukishima tried to insist, sipping at his tea. “I was just annoyed and so I called them out for it. And the one guy took a swing at me. Then we just... did what guys do, I dunno.”

“Is Yamaguchi okay?” Y/N’s eyes widened, looking at her front doors as if the boy would magically still be there. “Did he get hurt?”

“No way. If anything, Yamaguchi probably broke the one guy’s nose,” Tsukishima snickered, thinking back to the moment where one of the dudes crumpled up in pain after Yams smacked him around. 

Y/N nodded slowly, reminding herself to text the boy later and make sure he was alright. “You’re really not gonna tell me what they said?”

Tsukishima stretched his legs out slightly, getting more comfortable in the seat and avoided her eyes some more, as if pretending she hadn’t said anything. But the awkwardness exuding from him was very evident. “He just... said something about you being average... but still kept showing off these stupid pictures,” he finally muttered out, ears going red.

Y/N felt her heart drop a little. She didn’t need to hear anything more than pictures to know that her fucking ex-boyfriend was the one who was causing all this trouble. She had so many regrets about that relationship, and one of them was the photos that she had sent.

“I deleted them,” Tsukishima commented after glancing at her expression. “When I knocked him down I grabbed his phone and deleted them. I dunno if he has other copies somewhere but...”

Y/N practically threw herself across the table, wrapping the string bean boy into a hug. There was such a relief off of her shoulders, just knowing that Tsukishima had tried to get rid of them.

He grunted in response, pulling her closer into a hug but also shifting her weight around so it wasn’t on his side (which hurt like a bitch). “Stop doing stupid things for boys who are too dumb to realize what they have,” he commented, flicking her head.

She gave a little laugh, hugging him tighter for a moment before pulling away, “Yea yea... Does that mean I should stop taking care of you all the time?”

Tsukishima’s lips made a few protesting sounds, huffing before finally standing up and stretching. “I should get going. I don’t want you to stay up too late or you’ll be yawning all day tomorrow in math.”

Y/N smacked his arm a little making him wince a bit, which just made her laugh, “Go on then. Try to take a shower and ice your bruises. And next time you beat up my ex-boyfriend, call me so I can take a swing at him too.”

Tsukishima smirked and nodded, heading to the front door and slipping his shoes on. 

“Hey Tsukishima?”

He glanced back at her, surprised to find the nervous look on her face. She shifted on her feet for a moment before reaching up and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek, “I mean it. Thank you.”

Tsukishima burst into a fit of stammers, insisting that it wasn’t that big of a deal and she shouldn’t make it into one, but his cheeks were glowing red while he waved it away.

The next day at school, Y/N couldn’t help but smirk when her eyes landed on her black-eyed and scuffed up ex-boyfriend. For a string bean, apparently Tsukishima was pretty good at landing punches. Maybe it was the snarky expression on her face, or maybe it was just because she had walked by, but before Y/N could rush past him, her ex-boyfriend stepped in front of her, glowering down at her. 

“Get out of my way, asshole,” Y/N huffed, stepping back slightly.

“You know, I always knew there was something going on with you and Four Eyes,” her ex told her in a low voice, arms crossed in front of his chest. “I should’ve known you were cheating on me.”

“Right, I cheated on you and then broke up with you for cheating on me,” Y/N raised an eyebrow up at him. “Get lost, idiot. I don’t have time for you.”

“You’re saying you weren’t seeing him behind my back? That it’s not suspicious that you two immediately started going out after we broke up?” His voice was raising, causing all the students nearby to glance in their direction, whispers filling the space around them.

“We aren’t going out,” Tsukishima’s voice thudded into the air, his heavy arm flopping onto Y/N’s shoulders. He patted her head gently as he gave her a simple smile before turning his glare onto the dude in front of him. “I didn’t ask her out when you two broke up. But if she’ll have me, I can do it here and now in front of you?” 

The offer stunned everyone around them, even the whispering bunches of teens who had come around to see if these two bruised and beaten up boys would end up fighting again. Y/N looked up at Tsukishima with wide eyes, heart palpitating against her chest.

“I knew you liked her,” her ex scoffed. “Too bad she’s too good for you.”

“Well if she settled for the likes of you, I must have a pretty decent shot. I might not be the best boyfriend material, but at least I know not to talk shit about a girl like Y/N,” Tsukishima snapped back. His eyes finally met Y/N’s and she had to wonder for a moment if he was being serious or just saying this to show up the asshole in front of them. 

“There’s no way she would go out with you-” the asshole glared at the two of them.

“Yes,” Y/N breathed out softly, both Asshole and Tsukishima’s eyes falling on her. “Ask me.”

Tsukshima’s usually scowling lips turned into a smile, patting her head and ruffling up her hair slightly, “Go out with me.”

Y/N nodded with a smile, still searching his eyes for any sign that this was a genuine interaction. 

“Finally,” Yamaguchi huffed from behind the two of them, grinning widely as they all turned to look at him. “The two of you look good together. Now hurry up, we’re going to be late to class.”

Tsukishima grabbed Y/N’s hand before she or her ex could say anything, pulling her ahead as they followed Yams to class.

“W-Wait, Tsukishima,” Y/N stopped in her tracks as they got outside of the classroom, Yams already heading in.

“What?”

Y/N watched him carefully, still unsure of his intentions. “Thank you, for helping me out back there but...”

Tsukishima’s eyes darkened for a moment, like he was coming to some sort of realization, “If it was just a ploy to you, it’s fine. We can just say it was to get him off your back, that’s fine.”

She grabbed his arm as he started to move away, frowning as she looked up at him, “N-No, that’s... I just wanted to know if you... if you meant it.”

As his eyes met hers again, he tilted his head slightly, “Meant what?”

Y/N sighed, knowing they were going to end up going back and forth on this topic if she wasn’t straight up wit him. “Did... Did you really want to ask me out?”

He gave a smirk and Y/N’s heart started to fall - so it had been a joke this whole time then. “Obviously I wanted to ask you out. I’ve been wanting to for weeks now. Did you think I would just ask you out for no reason?”

Y/N wanted to point out that he could have just asked her out to humiliate her ex but seemed to catch onto this and just laughed. “If you think I’d actually fight a guy for just anyone, you’re stupider than I thought.”

She pouted in return, hitting his chest in defiance, “Hey!”

Tsukishima laughed and flicked her forehead, smirking down at her, “Go out with me. Seriously this time.”

Y/N glared playfully at him, pushing at his chest a little, “Fine. But you’ve got to be a bit nicer to me.”

“I took punches to the face for you, how much nicer can I get?” Tsukishima scoffed but bent down and kissed her nose gently. “Now hurry up, we’re late now, idiot.”

Y/N couldn’t help but feel like everyone was watching them as Tsukishima interlaced their fingers together and pulled her into class, dropping her off at her seat and giving her a cheeky wink, before taking his next to Yamaguchi. 

She glanced at him every few seconds in class, pinching herself each time he would catch her eye and give her a small smile, wondering if her dreams had really come true. Had the guy she had fallen head over heels for really just asked her out?

Yes. And surprisingly, it was all thanks to her piece of shit ex boyfriend and a bloody nose.

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[idy-ll-ique]

Hot Chocolate.

Pairing: Chris Evans X F!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Requested: Nope

Warnings: Mentions of blood

Summary: Chris Evans has seen this woman a couple of times before. Turns out, she's a good friend of Scott's, and the two brothers are supposed to meet at the park that day.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! A lot happens in this fic and I hope it makes sense... Enjoy!

---

Chris paused in his tracks when he saw her. He had seen her around a handful of times. She was standing between two groups of men, scolding both the groups as the men hung their heads low in shame. "Now can we all apologize to each other and play nicely?" she huffed, placing a hand on her hips. "Yes Y/N," they drawled, the groups united and they began playing their game again— dodgeball.

A smile bloomed on Chris' face. She was the mother of the group. Every friend circle had a mother hen, and that was… Y/N, they said? She was the only girl in the group of 7, but just as badass as all the boys. "Chris, Chris!" He snapped out of his thoughts and turned to see his brother, Scott, running towards him. "Hey man." The two men hugged and Scott glanced around.

His eyes lit up when he saw Y/N. "Y/N/N!" At the loud yell, Chris' eyes went wide as Y/N looked over at them, her lips forming a smile so beautiful that Chris was rendered speechless. "Scott!" she exclaimed happily, running towards them. Unfortunately, she happened to trip over a small rock and stumbled forward, landing on her front with an 'oof' and a groan.

Scott simply laughed as Chris ran forward, terrified. He helped her up, offering her his arm. She clutched it when her head started spinning. "Still as clumsy as ever," Chris' brother snorted and Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. "Still as immature as ever. Be more like your brother, dude, he helps." The tip of Chris' ears turned pink as Scott rolled his eyes.

"Mind introducing me to your friend?" Chris spoke as Y/N dusted the front of her t-shirt. "Right, this is Y/N Y/L/N, a very good friend of mine. Y/N—" She cut him off by waving her arm in dismissal. "Who doesn't know Chris Evans? It's very nice to meet you, sir." Chris grinned at her. "Chris will do just fine, darling." Scott huffed at the nickname.

"That's my best friend, douche."

"And what about it?" Chris countered, turning to Y/N with a worried look when she groaned. "What happened?" he asked. "I skinned my knee and ruined my pants." The three of them turned to look at Y/N's legs; her pants were torn on the left knee and blood was seeping into the pants through the wound. "That's not a skinned knee, that's a whole wound!" Scott yelled.

"Well, now I know why it hurts so much," she laughed in defeat, leaning on Chris. "My house is nearby, why don't we go there? Get you cleaned up," Chris offered. "Boys!" Her group of friends turned to them. "I'm going with Scott!" They shouted their goodbyes to Y/N and hellos to Scott, getting back to their game. "You know the guys, too?" Chris asked his brother.

"Yeah, man, as if I'm going to let her hang out with just any group of men. Let's go to your place, can't wait to see Dodger again," Scott grinned. The three of them left the park, Y/N doing her best not to fully lean against the handsome man who was almost carrying her at this point. She had had a crush on Chris Evans ever since she became friends with Scott; that was almost 10 years ago.

Imagine holding onto a crush for that long.

How did Chris not know her if she was such good friends with Scott? That will forever remain a mystery, he thought.

"So, Y/N, what do you do?" Chris asked her to take her mind off the wound that was now starting to throb badly. "Last year PhD student," she answered, hissing. "Nice, nice. Which subject are you getting your PhD in?" he smiled. "Law. I love A Starting Point, I never miss an episode." She looked up at him, giving him a small grin. "That means a lot, thanks."

"If this is your version of flirting, change it. It's very boring."

Scott snickered as Chris and Y/N both gave him glares. Soon, they reached Chris' house and Chris opened the door. Dodger was asleep in the sitting room and Scott immediately ran over to the dog, petting him. Chris, meanwhile, took Y/N to the bathroom. "Take a bath, you have mud all over you. I'll keep clean clothes outside." She let go of Chris' arm and he immediately wished she hadn't done that.

"Oh, but uh… your clothes…" she stammered, blushing furiously. Chris rubbed the back of his neck, shrugging. "Don't worry, I'll find something that fits. I'll also keep a towel outside." She nodded and closed the door when he left. Chris went to the stairs only to see Scott standing at the bottom of the stairs, his hands on his hips. "What do you want?" Chris sighed.

"Ask her out, please!" the younger man groaned as Chris went to the guest bedroom, taking out the towel kept in the cupboard in the room. "It's not that easy," Chris muttered, walking to his room. Scott followed him. "Why not? You were blushing so much when I introduced you to her," Scott pouted. "She is gorgeous, I agree but— but what makes you think she'll wanna go out with me?" Chris startled when Scott burst out laughing.

"That woman has had the biggest crush on you ever since the first Captain America movie came out, okay? There's no way she is going to say no to you. I have to warn you, though, if you ever break up, I'm breaking your kneecaps." Chris gave his brother a shove, but a smile bloomed on his face when he went downstairs, a towel, a loose t-shirt and a pair of shorts in his hands.

"Y/N?" he called out, knocking on the door. "Just leave the clothes outside, I'll get them!" She called out from inside. "Do you want anything to drink? Hot chocolate, maybe, tea?" he offered out of the blue, leaning against the door. "Hot chocolate sounds nice, thank you!" He nodded and went to the kitchen. Y/N, when she heard his footsteps echo away, shuddered in pleasure.

Oh my God, was she really going to sit there and have hot chocolate with her crush and his brother, who happened to be her good friend? She quickly got out of the tub, wincing when her knee jolted with pain. Y/N grabbed the towel and dried herself off, careful about avoiding the wound which had not stopped bleeding.

She put on her bra and panties, flushing when she realized that the t-shirt Chris gave her was slightly see-through. She put it on anyway, also wearing the shorts. "Um, Scott?" she called out upon walking out of the bathroom. "Yes, babe?" he yelled from the sitting room and she walked outside, sitting next to him. "Did you not clean your wound?" Scott sighed when he saw her knee.

"It won't stop bleeding, I think I have to bandage it," she groaned, leaning back on the couch. "Should I help with that?" Both Scott and Y/N turned to see Chris standing there, holding three mugs of hot chocolate. Y/N's breath hitched, he wanted to clean her wound? "That would be amazing!" Scott agreed with a proud smirk. Chris rolled his eyes at his brother and kept his mug down.

"I'll bring the first aid kit."

"Scott," Y/N hissed as Scott hurriedly finished his hot chocolate, slamming the mug on the table. "I just got an urgent text message, I need to go," he smirked at her. "Shut up," she growled when he got up, ruffling her hair. "Enjoy your date," he crooned, leaving the house before Chris could return with the first aid kit. Y/N simply sat there and clutched her mug, imagining it was Scott's neck instead.

"Where did Scott go?"

Chris blinked when he walked back into the sitting room. "He got an urgent text, he had to go." Chris saw right through the lie. "That bastard," he grunted under his breath but Y/N heard and giggled. "Language," she chided jokingly and he grinned at her, sitting on the floor in front of her. "Why did it not stop bleeding?" he asked as he carefully cleaned the wound.

Y/N moaned in pain when the ball of cotton dipped in antiseptic came in contact with her knee. "I don't know," she muttered, a tear leaking out of her left eye as he continued wiping the blood away. "Aw hey, don't cry, it'll be fine," he whispered softly, leaning up to flick the tears away when he heard a sniffle. "Yeah I know, sorry…" He shook his head as he tied a bandage to her knee.

"Don't apologize, I know it hurts. You gotta be brave, though." She nodded when he stood up, keeping the first aid kit away. He washed his hands and came back to examine his work. A spot of blood was visible on the bandage. "Feeling better?" he smiled at her, sitting next to her with his own mug of hot chocolate. He took a sip; it had gotten a bit cold but he could manage.

"A lot. Thank you so much, Chris, you're awesome."

"All my pleasure, darling. Wanna watch a movie?"

She shrugged and he switched the TV on. Y/N kept her empty mug on the table as he flipped through the channels, stopping when he saw that Mr and Mrs Smith was playing on one of them. "How about this one?" Y/N nodded and leaned back against the couch, smiling to herself when Chris rested his hand against the backrest, almost dropping his arm around her shoulders.

---

Y/N's eyes started drooping with sleep half an hour into the movie, the bath, the hot chocolate and the 2 hours of exercise in the park finally catching up to her. "Sleepy?" Chris chuckled softly when she yawned, rubbing her eyes. "I should probably get going or I'll fall asleep right here," she laughed, turning to get up but Chris grabbed her hand. "Sleep here, I'll wake you up in a few hours," he insisted.

Y/N bit her lip in apprehension. "You shouldn't walk, not when your knee is like that," Chris tried again, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth when he saw Y/N's expression. "Okay, fine." Chris smiled hugely when she relaxed against the couch. She yelped when he brought her closer to him, making her rest her head on his chest while he put an arm around her shoulders.

"I got you, sleep." Y/N snuggled further into his comfortable arms, not believing this was happening but not wanting to ruin the moment. Chris switched off the television, taking his phone out as he rubbed her back with his left hand, lulling her to sleep. When she finally fell asleep his hand rested against her hip, holding her to him. He opened the messaging app, rolling his eyes when he saw messages from Scott.

Did you two kiss??????

Chris smirked to himself, took a quick selfie of him holding Y/N in his arms, and sent it to Scott. The man replied within seconds.

OMG

I'm warning you again

If you break her heart

I'm breaking your kneecaps

You're breaking my kneecaps

Yeah I know that

Don't worry I'm not going to break her heart I promise

Good

Gtg fr this time bye

Bye

Chris kept his phone away for a moment as he adjusted himself; getting comfortable while also making sure Y/N was comfortable. Then he picked up his phone again, opening Instagram as his arms went around Y/N's waist.

---

"Mm!"

Y/N stretched her arms above her head as she opened her eyes, blinking when she realized Chris was not next to her. "Chris?" she called out, sitting up. No response. She couldn't even hear Dodger's bark. Where was he? She stood up and waddled all over the place, yelling Chris' name. Finally sure he wasn't at home, she groaned and plopped down on the couch.

She was alone at Chris Evans' house.

"Damn it," she muttered, suddenly spotting the three mugs that were still on the table. Well, Chris had shown her such wonderful hospitality, she should only return the favor, right? Smiling, she got up and grabbed the mugs, taking them to the kitchen. She laughed when she saw a mountain of dishes still in the sink; she was lazy when it came to doing dishes, too.

Taking out her phone and playing songs, she kept her phone on the kitchen counter and started washing the dishes. It was the least she could do for him after he let her stay at his place for— she checked the time; almost 5 hours. She had been here for almost 5 hours now.

"Dodge, come on bud, time to go home!" Chris shouted and Dodger came running over, leaping into Chris' arms. The man laughed and they walked back to his house. When they entered, though, Chris was a bit surprised; he could hear songs playing in the kitchen and the unmistakable sound of water running. Quietly tiptoeing into the sitting room, he peeked into the kitchen and saw Y/N.

He gulped; the sight of her wearing his clothes, standing in his kitchen doing the dishes for him was something else. She was singing along to the songs, not at all aware of his presence. "Y/N." She yelped and almost dropped the plate she was holding, turning to look at Chris. "You scared me!" she laughed, giving him a huge smile.

Unable to help himself, he strode forward, took her face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers.

Y/N kissed him back, wide-eyed. "What was that for?" she whispered when he pulled away, panting. "You didn't have to," he spoke instead, running his thumb across her bottom lip. "It's the least I could do," she chuckled when he took the sponge out of her hand, keeping it to the side. He easily picked her up and set her down on the counter, reconnecting their lips.

"God, you're so awesome. Please stay for dinner," he pleaded after their 15 minute make out session got over. "Okay, I will," Y/N giggled, putting her arms around his shoulders. He carried her out of the kitchen and they sat down on the couch, Chris holding her on his lap. "Where were you? You took Dodger for a walk?" Y/N asked him as Dodger sat near the table, closing his eyes.

"I did, yeah. I also filmed another episode of ASP, you were out cold for a long time," he laughed. "I know, I haven't been getting enough sleep lately, this must've been the breaking point. Thanks for not waking me up." He gave her a kiss on the forehead, smiling. "Of course, darling."

---

A/N: Thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed!

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 21 - Nowhere to Run [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, blood, nightmares.

Word Count: 4300

Summary: Everyone needs a shelter.

For all your life, your sister had always said she hated watching horror movies with you because you would always criticize every character and their choices in the movie.

Who would even stay where they were when they knew there was danger outside, when they knew there was something coming for them?

You had never thought you’d learn the answer first hand;

Because there was nothing else to do, and because that was exactly what you were doing.

Spencer and the rest of his team had sent you away from that basement so that you could get some fresh air and at least attempt to get away from the greeting written on the wall with blood but you knew it was impossible.

There was no running away from that, you had seen it already.

You dangled your legs off the pier back and forth, keeping your gaze on the lake that looked so calm that it was almost like a painting. Funny, you hadn’t ever stopped to enjoy it when you were still a child, you had never actually sat there on the pier to take a breath, wrapped in the safety that would soon disappear.

The footsteps coming closer pulled you out of your thoughts and you turned you head as Spencer sat down next to you.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you croaked out and he ran his fingers through his curls.

“Do you want me to take you home?”

You shook your head, “I’m not sure what home is for me at this point, to be honest with you,” you murmured, “Besides I heard the other agents talking, you guys are going to be pretty busy the moment the rest of your team gets here.”

He heaved a sigh, biting inside his cheek but you kept your gaze on the lake.

“It makes it official right?” you asked, “All these murders…It’s not really about my father’s legacy. It’s about me.”

He stole a look at you, “Y/N…”

“It’s okay professor,” you said, “Trust me, I’m not going to run and scream.”

“The profile is changing constantly with every piece of evidence-“

“Spencer.”

He let out a breath, pursing his lips.

“It is pointing that way so far,” he muttered, “It doesn’t matter though. His legacy or an obsession with you, we’re still going to catch him.”

A silence fell upon you and you cleared your throat, pointing at the woods on the other side of the lake.

“Mina and I used to play the princess and the monster over there,” you said, “I mean… It was either me who was the princess or Mina and I were saving some imaginary princess because Mina wanted to be friends with her.” You used air quotes, “I don’t know whose shock was more fake when she came out, mine or mom’s.”

He let out a small laugh, “Yeah?”

“Mm hm, and right over there,” you pointed at the right, “Linc chased me with a worm in his hand to scare me off, and I ended up falling into the damn lake.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “Then Mina pushed him into the lake too and we all got grounded for the whole weekend.” You let out a breath and pointed back at the cabin with your thumb, “And right there, dad showed me how to kill someone for the first time.”

His head shot up, “What?”

You scoffed, “He didn’t tell you that during those sessions?”

Spencer shook his head, frowning.

“He taught me…” you wetted your lips, “How to- how to hunt, that’s what he called it. Predator and prey. After teaching me how to analyze places to find a weapon, he taught me how to find my way in the woods. Just in case. He used to um-“ you cleared your throat, “I don’t really remember all of it, I don’t know how much of it are nightmares or memories, but I remember once he dragged me here in the middle of the night, and he opened the door and there was this man…”

“Petal honey, don’t get so close to him,” your father called out from the kitchen he sharpened the knife as you took a step closer to the man who was gagged and bleeding profusely, still whimpering on the floor. Even in the dim light you could see the look of terror on his face and your heart skipped a beat as you turned your head to look at your father.

“Daddy, he-“ you shifted your weight from one foot to other, “Maybe we can just leave him like this. He’d be dead by the morning.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he asked before getting closer to you, flipping the knife in his hand and the man started yelling through the gag, but it was muffled. Your father extended his hand, motioning at the huge teddy bear you were hugging closer to your chest and you bit on your lip, then handed him that.

“You can get the teddy back after you answer 3 questions right, you know the rules,” he told you, “Alright, if I wanted him to die quickly, where would I stab?”

“Jugular.”

“Where’s the jugular?”

You pointed at the man’s neck, “There.”

“Good. What if I wanted him to suffer for hours with just one stab wound?”

You paused and scrunched up your nose, forcing your mind for the information before you looked up at him.

“In the stomach,” you said, “Stomach acid hurts.”

He thought for a second, then handed you the teddy back.

“Good job honey,” he said and walked to the man with the knife in his hand.

“I couldn’t do anything,” you pressed your lips together, “For hours and hours he tortured him and when we got back home, I went to bed and the next morning I wouldn’t stop shivering, I kept throwing up and my mom thought I had the flu so we ended up not coming to the cabin that weekend. I know how he—” you clicked your tongue, “I know how he pretends to be a normal guy. During those interviews, that documentary, even in those sessions with you he keeps pretending like he’s normal, but I know him. I know the real monster and I…”  you sniffled and cleared your throat, “Profiler or not, you have no idea what he’s capable of. He put me through actual hell, Spencer. No wonder I can’t remember half of this shit, I think I’d lose my mind if I did.”

“Y/N…”

“I didn’t stop him.”

He frowned, “How old were you?”

“Seven.”

“You couldn’t have stopped him even if you wanted to,” Spencer told you, “You were a child.”

“I could’ve told someone,” you murmured, looking at the lake, “I could’ve done something.”

“You were a child,” he repeated, “Children trust their parents, okay? You know it as well as I do that he’s a master at manipulation. Whatever he has done, it’s not your fault.”

“I doubt those bodies in the basement would agree with you,” you managed to say and let out a humorless chuckle, “Besides, I’m my father’s daughter, remember? You told me so yourself.”

The impact of your words would’ve been surprising if you weren’t so distracted by your own misery. He pulled back as if you had just slapped him, his hazel eyes searching your face and he swallowed thickly, opening and closing his mouth like he was at loss for words.

“I didn’t mean—” he paused, shaking his head “Y/N, that wasn’t the truth.”

You grabbed the cigarette out of your purse and lit it, dangling your legs back and forth over the pier.

“It’s fine,” you shrugged your shoulders, “You’re not the first person to think that, and weirdly enough, you’re not the first ex to think that either-“

“That’s not what I think,” he insisted, “Nothing about you even suggests that you’re anything like him, behavior or psychological wise. I just wanted to—“ he hesitated for a moment, his jaw clenching, “Hurt you back.”

You tried to smile, still keeping your gaze on the lake as you exhaled the smoke.

“Congratulations professor, you’re pretty good at that.”

A silence fell upon you both as you twirled the cigarette between your fingers.

“I’m sorry,” his voice was so gentle that you turned your head to look at him, “I really am. I never should’ve hit below the belt, not like that.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Y/N.”

“No really,” you insisted, “I don’t want to talk about that anymore, I’m just so—“ you closed your eyes for a moment “God, I’m just so tired Spencer. You have no idea how tired I am.”

“I know.”

“And it just doesn’t end,” you murmured and opened your eyes, “Right? I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in months now, and everything is getting so out of my control.”

“It will end soon.”

“But we don’t know that,” you insisted as almost a hysterical laugh escaped from your lips, “Do you want to hear the worst part? I don’t think this feeling will ever go away. At this point, I don’t even remember how it feels like not to be afraid.”

He heaved a sigh, then looked over his shoulder when Luke approached you two.

“Sorry guys,” he said, shifting his weight, “But um- Reid, we need you in there.”

“Can’t someone else-“

“Don’t,” you shook your head as you stood up and dusted off your jeans, “Seriously. Besides, the sooner you catch this guy, the sooner…I don’t know, the sooner things go back to normal, whatever that means.”

“You can’t just drive home like this.”

“I’ll drive her,” Luke said, making you turn your head,

“Dude, aren’t you needed here too?”

“I’m going to go back to help out Rossi,” he said, “Not all of the team has to be here, I mean-“ he nodded at Spencer, “We’ve got our genius here, he’s got it covered. I can take the babysitting duty.”

“No pastries for you anymore.”

“I would like to rephrase my statement,” he said quickly, making you smile before you shrugged your shoulders.

“Alright then, let’s go.”

“Y/N-“ Spencer started but you shot him a look.

“I’m fine,” you said, “Go do your Sherlock stuff, professor. Solve the case so that I can start planning weddings again instead of hanging around creepy cabins. I’m just gonna go home and get drunk, so you’ll probably get a voicemail or two from me, just saying.”

“Can’t wait,” Spencer smiled softly and you followed Luke to your car, then handed him the keys and got in the passenger seat. He started the car and you slipped a little in the seat, leaning your knees on the dash.

“How are you holding up?” Luke asked you and you heaved a sigh.

“I feel like I’m in a horror movie to be honest with you,” you muttered, “Who the fuck writes on a wall with blood, I mean like who are you, Michael Myers?”

“I didn’t mean the case,” he stole a look at you and you raised your brows.

“Ah, that,” you said, “Well, I don’t have a bff that sets me up with people in night clubs, so there’s that.”

He hissed in a breath, “Garcia told you.”

“Mm hm,” you looked out of the window, “No hard feelings, don’t worry. I dated lots of frat boys back when I was in college, so I’m very familiar with the bro code.”

“You dated frat boys?” he made a face and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Yeah I started from the bottom and worked my way up to the genius back there.”

He chuckled, “I take it you still haven’t told him you threatened a serial killer because he happened to threaten him?”

“I would’ve done the same for anyone.”

“Bullshit.”

Your jaw dropped, “I let you drive my car and this is the thanks I get, Alvez?”

“Okay trust fund baby, I’m driving you home, you’re not doing me a favor.”

You let out a small laugh, “Eh, I’m not that bad.”

“Your sister threatened a whole police department using lawyers.”

“They had it coming,” you said and he cleared his throat.

“If it makes you feel any better, it was an actual fiasco.”

Your head shot up and you turned to him, “Hm?”

“That whole thing with Reid. He’s not over you.”

“He will be,” you murmured, “Eventually.”

“Do you want to hear why it was a fiasco?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s an exaggeration-“

“He spent the whole night talking about you,” he cut you off and your jaw dropped, “Yeah. More like, she asked him about his job and he mentioned the case, then talked about you and how you couldn’t be the killer for hours. For a second, I thought he’d go up to the DJ booth and start broadcasting from there.”

You could feel the warmth spreading through you, but you nibbled on your lip, trying to ignore it.

“I really hurt him Luke.”

He stole a look at you from the corner of his eye.

“I know,” he said, “That’s pretty clear. I don’t know which one is worse, that you hurt him or that it doesn’t seem to change anything on his part.”

You could feel the burning in your eyes but you slipped a little in your seat and kept your eyes on the road.

“Yeah,” you murmured, “I don’t know which one is worse either.”

                                                   ***

The worst thing about nightmares?

There was no escape from them, and no amount of booze could make them go away.

You woke up to your own scream and leaped out of the bed so fast that you got caught in your sheets and fell on your face, your ears ringing. You could feel the bile burning your throat, so you covered your mouth and rushed to the bathroom to throw up into the toilet, barely aware of the sobs rocking your body. You wiped at your mouth and stood up on shaky legs, then brushed your teeth, still breathing hard.

You were there again, in that graveyard with your father, but this time you couldn’t brush it off as just a nightmare.

It was way too detailed, way too familiar to be a nightmare.

You wiped at your forehead and washed your face with ice cold water, desperate for some sort of a relief and leaned over the sink, closing your eyes for a moment.

“Fuck this shit,” you rasped out to yourself before turning the tap off and raised your glances to look in the mirror.

Well.

You looked exactly like how you felt.

You still didn’t trust your legs but still managed to leave the bathroom, Making your way to your bedroom was more than enough to give you goosebumps, but you snatched your phone off the bedside table. You almost dropped it because of how badly you were trembling with fear, but managed to hold it tighter, found his name in the contacts and took the phone to your ear.

He answered immediately.

“Hello?”

“Spencer, hi,” you said, still taking deep breaths, “I um… I had this- this nightmare and I- I need to talk to you. Can we meet somewhere?”

He hesitated for a moment, “Are you okay? Why are you breathing so fast?”

“Not a panic attack,” you wiped at your nose, “Not yet anyway.”

“Okay, I’m still coming over-“

“No!” you cut him off, then licked your lips, “No I can’t…. I can’t stay here right now, I need to get out of here. Can we please meet somewhere or-or-“

“How about my place?” he asked and you heard the unmistakable clinking of keys, “You can’t drive like that, I’ll come and pick you up, wait there-“

“No I’ll just take a taxi.”

“Y/N.”

“I’ll take a taxi, just send me the location,” you told him and hung up, quickly got dressed, got into your coat, then went downstairs when your taxi arrived. You still felt like you could throw up again, but the cool air coming from the open car window helped as the driver started the car after you gave him the location.

There was a beauty in the city at night, especially in chilly nights like these. The small raindrops falling down your face offered some kind of a small comfort while you tried your hardest to ignore the images flashing through your mind, taking a deep breath, letting the cold air fill your lungs. You leaned your head to the open window, closing your eyes and letting the noise of the city drag you out of your own mind.

By the time the taxi pulled over, you were almost lost in your thoughts and only when the driver let you know that you were there you opened your eyes. You paid him, and looked up at the building before making your way inside.

It was almost strange how you hadn’t seen his apartment when you two were dating, but now here you were.

After the break up. At three in the morning.

You wiped at your nose and fixed your hair before you knocked on the door and tried to control your breathing, but that felt way too difficult. As soon as he opened the door, everything you had planned to tell him in your head disappeared and you looked up at him in complete silence for a couple of seconds, you had almost forgotten how he looked when he wasn’t in his work clothes. A warmth filled you, the urge to rush into his arms taking over you but you managed to fight the urge and stepped into the apartment, desperately searching for the right words.

“I had that nightmare, again.” You turned to him as soon as you entered the living room, stumbling over your words, “That graveyard nightmare, but Spencer I think it wasn’t just a dream, I think you were right and it was a memory and there was someone else but I can’t see a face and—“

“Y/N.”

“And I think we were there because of me because it all just connected, we were at that graveyard and he was actually digging a grave and I can remember the face of the victim but not—“

“Sweetheart, breathe.” he approached you in three long steps and his warm hands cupped your cheek so that he could look at you better, “I’m here, I’m listening, okay? Just breathe and tell me. Slowly.”

You swallowed thickly, looking up at him.

“I had that nightmare again,” you managed to say, “But I think that’s a memory.”

“Okay,” he nodded, “How?”

“Because at the graveyard, dad told me something,” you said, “He was- he was digging a grave, and he said, Remember, you’re not supposed to make them bleed if you can’t kill them. And I remembered when that happened, back at the cabin, during the training, I… I untied one of the victims and pretended like he got out of them somehow.”

His hand slipped a little so that he could brush his fingers over your neck, almost soothing you.

“It didn’t work,” you shook your head, “As soon as he got out of the cabin, dad hunted him down and dragged him back into the cabin, he had lost way too much blood to make a run for it. Spencer, that’s a memory, not just a nightmare.”

“There was another person with you? At the graveyard?”

“He took the victim to the graveyard later on, but yes. There was someone, I just…I can’t remember who,” you heaved a shaky breath, “You need to tell the team-“

“We’re already checking the graveyards within the driving distance to the cabin, I told them today.”

You blinked a couple of times, “Did you?”

“Yeah,” he said and his eyes searched your face, “You’re shaking.”

You tried to smile and wrapped your fingers around his wrist, running your thumb over his warm skin, “It’s cold out there.”

You were lying, he knew you were lying and you knew that he knew, but neither of you commented on that. He hesitated for a moment before he pulled you closer to him, letting you bury your face into his chest as he held you tight and you inhaled his scent, closing your eyes.

He was right earlier. This was an addiction.

“Were you sleeping?” you muttered into his chest before you pulled back to look up at him. He scoffed and shook his head.

“No,” he said, “I was working on the case.”

“You really need to sleep.”

“It’s ironic to hear that from you,” he pointed out and that made a smile warm your face.

“Ah but I did sleep,” you said, “I just woke up because of the nightmares. It still counts as sleep.”

“I doubt that,” he said and you turned your head before you started walking around the room.

Spencer’s apartment was more or less what you imagined, to be honest. Contrary to yours, it was darker and obviously older. The wooden desk was covered in papers and books, there was a library by the corner of the room almost stacked to the brim, and overall it reminded you so much of him that just being in his apartment made you feel-

Safer. Better. Calmer.

“Lovely place,” you commented as you approached the library to drag your fingertips over the cracked and old spines of the books and out of the corner of your eye, you saw him shift his weight.

“Yeah it’s not- it’s not like yours but I like it.”

“Not like mine?” you looked over your shoulder and he cleared his throat.

“Mm hm.”

“I like it better than mine,” you said and he frowned,

“Why?”

“It looks like someone is actually living here,” you motioned around and he tilted his head.

“Is that a good thing?”

“It is,” you said, “I mean I can see….you in here. I can’t see any part of me in my apartment.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, “My mom has this person who designs her houses, she designed my apartment too. It’s pretty but it’s just not me I guess. It’s kind of sad when you think about it.”

He hummed, his eyes watching your every move and you pulled a book from the shelf, holding it up so that he could see the title.

“You don’t strike me as a Petrarch guy,” you tilted your head, “Are you?”

He raised his brows and stole a look at the book in your hand.

“I do not pray, since there is no purpose, that my heart should ever burn less fiercely, but only that she might share part of the fire.” he recited and your jaw dropped before you pouted.

“I hate bluffing with you,” you commented, making him chuckle and you stifled a yawn while turning the book in your hands.

“You can’t work for the whole night if you have a guest.” you gestured at the wooden table and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I won’t if my guest promises she’ll try to sleep.”

“I don’t like this deal.”

“That’s the deal you’re getting,” he said and you clicked your tongue, then walked to the center of the room and sat down on the floor before you lied down.

“I have a bed, you know.”

“I don’t want to get comfortable and fall asleep yet. I want to enjoy this more.”

“Enjoy what? Lying on the floor?”

You shook your head and kept your gaze on the ceiling, the dim light of the apartment and lights from the outside creating shadows there.

“I don’t have that…mind numbing fear right now,” you managed to say “I want to make it last. It’ll come back when I wake up tomorrow, trust me.”

He looked like he wanted to argue with you, then heaved a sigh and sat down on the floor as well, leaning his back to the leather armchair. You tossed him the book and he caught it mid-air, shooting you a quizzical look.

“Read me your favorite,” you said and he smiled slightly.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’ll help me get out of my head, and it might help you….ignore the fact that your night club date was terrible, apparently.”

He raised his brows, “Luke told you?”

You tried to stop your smirk, but it was impossible,

“Yeah he did,” you said and bit inside your cheek for a moment, “Thank you though.”

“For what?”

“For believing in me.”

His gaze on you was gentle, “I wish you would believe in yourself too,” he told you, “You’re not what he tried to turn you into.”

You dragged the tip of your tongue over your lip.

“Spencer?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think we should move on?”

He took a deep breath, his brows furrowed in thought.

“Yeah,” he murmured, “We probably should. But do I think we can move on? I don’t think so.”

You nodded slowly, that burning in your eyes getting even worse as he turned the pages until he found what he was looking for, then cleared his throat and started reading.

“I have offered you my heart a thousand times

O my sweet warrior, only to make peace

with your lovely eyes: but it does not please you

with your noble mind, to stoop so low.”

You smiled to yourself, painfully aware of why he picked that one, then closed your eyes, his voice washing over you.

“And if some other lady has hope of it,

she lives in powerless, deceiving hope:

and it can never be what it was to me,

since I too disdain what does not please you.”

Chapter 22

[sehunniepotwrites]

caught in your web | m.l

🕷SYNOPSIS— in which you can’t stand mark getting hurt anymore, not when you’re madly in love with him 🕷GENRE— mcu!au, spiderman!au, fluff, suggestive  🕷PAIRING— spiderman!mark lee x person in the chair!reader (gn) 🕷WORD COUNT— 1771

🕷WARNINGS— mentions of violence and battles, cleaning wounds, making out (lmao)

 🕷AUTHOR’S NOTE—day two of my mark lee breakdown and i came up with this. i have been in love with the idea of spider!mark ever since i’ve read @xiaomoon​‘s leap of faith and i finally got to write my own version of peter marker ;;; hope y’all enjoy this! (briefly edited, some mistakes may remain!)

—🕸🕷—

You don’t exactly remember how and when it all went down, but to sum it all up, your best friend of all time is Spiderman and you’re his person in the chair. You’re the J.A.R.V.I.S. to his Tony Stark or are you his F.R.I.D.A.Y.? You can’t be his Karen because his Karen is the user interface of his current suit— never mind that, that’s not really relevant. 

The most important takeaways from this are that:

your best friend, Mark Lee, is the newest addition to the Avengers

you’re the mastermind behind the computer that guides him through New York City

And lastly, you’re in love with that dumbass of a superhero. 

At first, you were mad that Mark didn’t tell you. Then, you were quite surprised that he kept a secret from you for that long— that boy has a hard time keeping his mouth shut. 

When you first found out, Mark in full superhero garb entered his room through the window while you were impatiently waiting for him on his bed with a Death Star Lego set in hand. You dropped the almost complete set out of shock and it shattered to pieces. Mark, with his red and black mask in hand and a suit that clung to his surprisingly fit body so perfectly (like honestly, when did he look like that?), made you promise that you would never tell his Aunt May. You linked your smaller pinky with his own, swearing not to tell but on one condition— that you could be his person in the chair.

Being behind-the-scenes while in the chair is extremely thrilling. Sure, you have no superpowers to contribute to the fight but you have the brains and the technology to help Mark in any way you possibly could. You tell him the best possible route with Karen backing you up and Mark will blindly follow. You are his tracker, eyes in the sky, and his safety net—you have his complete trust.

The worst thing about being his person in the chair, though, is watching Mark get hurt in action and knowing there is not much you can do about it without physically being there. Watching the person you love get hurt—no matter how enhanced their body was—is beyond taxing. You never know if he’s going to make it and it kills you inside when you’re barking commands into your headset, calling for Karen to activate the best mode to get Mark out of the battle site. It tears you to absolute pieces and that’s how you ended up here, in your bedroom with violent tears running down your cheeks.

Mark is laying down on your bed with his torso resting against your lap. His mask is discarded somewhere on your bedroom floor while the top half of his suit is peeled off his injured body. You’re crying, hands trembling as he’s gasping for air and wincing every time you attempt to clean a wound. 

“How could you be so reckless, Mark?!” you scold him through a hushed whisper. You press another alcohol-soaked swab onto a cut. He hisses, his hand squeezing your knee to keep him from screaming. “You’re an idiot!”

Mark is groaning, body twisting and turning while sinking his teeth onto his bottom lip. You can tell he wants to scream but your parents are home and you don’t want them to walk into this gruesome sight. They think you’re just up to your usual game playing. 

“I had to!” Mark argues back. His nose is scrunched up and you can just see how much pain he’s in. You want to do nothing but kiss the pain away but there were more pressing matters to attend to, like disinfecting all the cuts scattering his body. “They were heading this way, to this neighborhood. To you!”

God, you hate how headstrong and stubborn he is at times. “And that matters why? I can easily reroute you and you know that! For some reason, you chose not to listen and now you’re badly hurt and you’re bleeding a lot and I can’t even take you to the hospital and—”

“Hey, hey, hey, no, no, no. None of that, okay? It’s fine, I’m fine.” He must’ve sensed how the panic was seeping through your veins with his spidey senses or maybe Mark just knew you well enough. 

“See?” Mark gestures to an arm you had already patched up. The cuts you already tended to look so much better than before and the bruises are healing faster than the normal rate. 

“I’ll be fine in a day or two, bubs,” he reassures you with a pained smile. That didn’t reassure you at all.

“That’s not the point!”

“Then what— ow, fuck, you’re pressing too hard, ow— what is?” Mark tries to wriggle away and you press a hand onto his firm chest (oh my god, seriously, how is he built like this?) to keep him still. 

You’re done dressing his wounds and you take in the number of supplies you’ve used to tend to him. 

The battles out there are getting worse and the teenager just comes up more battered and bruised. You don’t know much longer you can take seeing your best friend like this. You’re so caught up in him and you can’t leave. You feel as if Mark shot some of his web fluid at you and suddenly, you’re just trapped in this ridiculous web of love and you can’t fight your way out of it. 

“If you keep acting recklessly, there will be no more friendly neighborhood Spiderman!” You can’t stand the thought of Mark being gone. The world out there was tough to live in as it is but a world without your idiotic best friend with superpowers? You can’t even imagine it. 

“What if I want to be more than that?” he asks, his voice dropping lower than his usual volume, 

“Well, you can’t be more than that if you’re dead!” you hiss back at him. “And that’s something I don’t want to see!” 

He flinches at your tone.

“No, wait— ugh, that’s not what I meant,” he lifts a hand to run through his hair. “What if I want to be more than just your friendly neighborhood Spiderman?”

“Mark, I really don’t get what you’re saying.” You look down at him, confusion buzzing through your features. “And that’s saying a lot.”

“What if I wanted to be more than just Spiderman to you? Because— I don’t know, that’s all I’ve wanted for a while now? Besides, like doing this whole Avengers-slash-saving the world thing?”

You blink at him, trying to process his words as Mark rambles on, his bare back still pressed against your thighs. 

“Do you even get what I’m saying? I don’t think I’m making any sense. Shit, how do people do this?” Mark continues as you try to make sense of his ongoing rant.

“Do what?”

“Confess to the person they like? Is there, like, a step-by-step guide or something because I don’t think I’m doing this right,” he replies fairly quickly before he realizes what came spilling out of his mouth. Mark’s face turns as red as his suit and his eyes are as wide as his mask’s lenses; you’re sure your face is mirroring a similar look. 

You swallow and clear your throat, trying to organize the many revelations running through your scattered brain. “So, let me get this straight.”

“Yeah, uh, sure,” Mark almost squeaks in disbelief. 

“You almost died in my arms just now and you’re worried about the proper way to confess to me?” You laugh in disbelief. What a typical Mark thing of him to do. 

“Well, uh, yeah, ‘cause dude, I’m pretty sure you know this but I haven’t done this sort of thing before.” He’s avoiding eye contact, clearly embarrassed by the situation. His hands are playing with the ends of his suit, a tell-tale of his nervousness.

You grab his hands, pulling them away from ruining the fabric, and squeeze them gently. “You’re such a nerd,” you tease fondly. 

“Hey!” he yells back at the insult.

“But it’s a good thing that I, um, like nerds,” you manage to cough out, a heat seeping through your cheeks. Your confession is barely above a whisper but Mark’s enhanced senses help him pick up your words perfectly. His body freezes for a second before his head snaps up.

Mark’s brown irises lock onto yours, hope swimming through them. “You—you do?” 

“Yeah,” you let out a breathy laugh. Your hand runs up the side of his neck to comb through his hair. You feel him shiver at your touch and you shyly smile at him. You’re nervous but you shouldn’t be—Mark’s your best friend. 

“There’s this one nerd running around the city in a red and black suit. Ever heard of him?”

He’s laughing at this point and all your worries disappear. “Yeah, I think I have. He’s pretty cool.”

“I think he’s pretty cute, too” you confess, dipping your head down to move a bit closer to him. Mark meets you halfway, his hand wiggling its way to clasp the back of your neck. Your heart is beating so hard against your chest and the butterfly wings are tickling your stomach at the proximity. 

You touch your forehead to his, nuzzling them together and he lets out a deep chuckle that sets your heart ablaze. “I guess you could say I got caught in his web,” you tease. You hear him suck on his teeth.

“Just kiss me already.”

“Only if you promise that you’ll listen to me and be more careful out there,” you reply, boldly pressing a kiss by his mouth. He chases your lips and you quickly pull away.

“Ah, promise me.”

“Promise, yes, I promise,” he groans. “Just let me kiss you.”

The word “okay” barely leaves your mouth before he pulls himself up to press his body against yours. Mark slots his lips against yours and you sigh into him, breathing in his scent. It starts off as innocent but the kiss takes a turn when Mark breaks away to slide off your lap. He keeps his hand behind your head and lowers you down to lie completely straight on your bed.

Mark climbs on top, knees on either side of your hips as he captures your lips again. Your fingers fly to his hair and he lets out a noise as your nails scratch his scalp. “Love you,” he whispers into the kiss. 

“Love you, too,” you smile as you tug him even closer. 

Yeah, you love being Spiderman’s person in the chair but you think you love being Mark Lee’s person a hell of a whole lot more.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

Scars That Heal || Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader Series

• Ch. 12: Changes •

A/N: The missing gaps in time are on purpose since they will be in book 2 as flashbacks, which will include references to events you have not read yet. All fluff and shenanigans this chapter to make up for last, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: brief mention of nausea and gore towards the very end, but otherwise, tooth-rotting fluff!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬

𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐧

𝐀𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬

𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧' 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡

              - David Bowie, Changes

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

- 𝗠𝗜𝗗 𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗦𝗧 -

    "I still can't believe you went after Bowers," Richie scoffs.

    As he steps off his porch and onto his lawn he looks over at his best friend and takes another gander at the bruises and welts littering her skin. Her lip was still busted and despite his and his mother's efforts to clean her bottom lip of blood, it must have started bleeding again sometime during the night as more had crusted over.

    "Yeah, well," she shrugs. "It felt good,"

    "Yeah," he snorts. "It looks like it,"

    "You know what I mean," She elbowed him and he nodded with a little laugh.

    "What d'ya want to do? I mean, we could keep standing around here like a bunch of idiots, but-" he shrugs, hands falling into his pockets, and Y/n smiles.

    "I dunno," she shrugs. A wince falls over her face, a painful-looking one at that. "But I don't think I'm gonna be welcome back at the Capitol Theatre any time soon."

    Richie nodded, a ghostly look falling over his face at all that had transpired in the past twenty-four hours alone. He still couldn't believe she had done that. He still couldn't believe a lot of things but her being in his corner after what she had found out seemed a little harder to believe right now. Especially after the junkyard... But - Jesus, that was already a week and a half ago, it felt like only hours.

    He could hear her words from the park the other day in his ears and he suddenly felt the urge to pay her back. He smiled his charming crooked smile and hoped for the best.

    "You still craving fries?"

    "Always," she answered, a look of suspicion written in her features. "Why?"

    Y/n didn't know why she kept asking these questions when she knew the answer. She didn't at all like the look growing in his eyes or the stupid feeling of guilt growing in her stomach.

    "Cause I'm prepared to make a deal with ya toots,"

     "Oh, yeah?"

    "Sure am," he says, patting his hand over his left pocket. "I'd been saving up for a long weekend at the arcade but that's a bust. And I just got a raise on my allowance ━ that's again, toots. Allowance. It's the money you get when you do stuff for people, you might never have heard of it--"

    "Is there a point here, Rich? Cause if so, you better get to it faster,"

    "Point is, I'm packing and I'm also craving milkshakes. So how's about I treat you to the biggest pile of fries your staved ass has ever seen--"

    Y/n shoots him a knowing look, ready to detest when he holds out a finger.

    "If," he continues. "you take me there."

    "Take you there?"

    "Take me there," he nodded. "By piggyback."

    Y/n gave thought to this, all while hiding behind an unimpressed look. As much as she hated to admit it, she was starving.

    Richie shrugged. "Hey, you're the one always saying you don't want to feel like charity. Well, this ain't charity, this is work with a reward. Take it or leave it,"

    Her unimpressed look grows stronger in an attempt to buy her time. But it's useless, her stomach answers for her with a long growl and a smile sneaks up on her.

    She steps forward, crouching down a bit for him to jump on her back. "Alright, let's get this over with."

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

    "You know, I was really worried about carrying you, but dude, you weigh like nothing. You're a fucking bean pole," Y/n says.

    She comes to a slow before straightened her back letting him slide off her back and onto the ground. The two of them had arrived at the nearest diner in the town square where they now stood.

    "Well, not to brag or anything, but," he fluffs his collar. "I took a massive shit before we left,"

    "Ugh!" a shocked and uncomfortable laugh breaks loose from Y/n and she sticks out her tongue in disgust. "Regretting this already."

    She threw open the doors and the two found themselves inside one of Derry's lesser diners.

    It smelled like sausage and coffee beans, and it had a vibrant red and black theme. There were maybe nine or ten people there, little kids included and they could hear the jukebox blasting a David Bowie song. Y/n had a hard time enjoying it with the combination of a full bladder and an empty stomach so she turns to Richie and nudges him with her elbow.

    "I'm gonna run to the restroom. Get us a booth?"

    "Do your thing," Y/n nods and disappears around the corner. As his eyes follow her, they land on the corner in question she had disappeared around where there sat the jukebox.

    He wanders over, eyeing the machine as Changes reaches a crescendo. A mischievous smile blooms as the lights from the window illuminated his face.

    "Three plays for a dollar, huh?"

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

    When Y/n returned from the restroom, she had expected to find Richie lounging in a booth somewhere, feet up and bugging the employees. She did not expect to turn the corner and nearly collide with the boy as he stood at the Jukebox and feeding all his money into it.

    "Dude! I carried you here, you owe me fries!"

    "And you shall get them my liege," answered Richie in a Shakespearean tone. "But first!" He dropped the act and looked away from the Jukebox for the first time, wearing an almost evil grin. "A social experiment,"

    Y/n's brow furrowed as she watched Richie punch in the same Tom Jones song over and over and over. It was then she caught on to what he was doing. She held out a hand as her eyes watched the Jukebox.

    "Hey, hey, hey, wait," she said, stopping Richie in his tracks.

    He looked up at her with a pout. "Relax, toots. I saved just enough for their biggest basket of fries, you'll get them." Then Richie saw the look on her face. He could practically see the gears turning.

    "No, not that. It's just..." she said, eyes never leaving the list of songs. "Before you put in more, you should throw in one It's Not Unusual,"

    And that's when the afternoon went from good to great.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

    By now, the duo had ordered and waited. They now sat tucked into a corner booth with a great view of the street corner and the passers-by of Derry. Changes had long since ended, and the remaining songs in the queue had trickled out. Richie memorized the song queue and was silently counting down until the big moment as he sat across from his battered-up best friend.

    Her busted lip poked out in a bored pout, her chin propped up on her palm as she balanced her head on the table while looking out at the graying town landscape. It always escaped her how Derry could possibly look so gloomy on even the hottest, brightest days of summer. Until recently that is, the truth all too clear to her and her friends now.

    The thought of the Losers scattered all over this hellhole only added to the gloom. They should all be here, together. Pointlessly debating which condiment goes best with fries, not fighting over... Over what they had fought over.

    Y/n's eyes finally broke away from the manhole at the center of the little intersection outside and wandered over to Richie. He had stolen the salt and pepper shakers from a few empty (and not so empty) tables and was currently doing his best to construct a salt and pepper shaker tower. His tongue was sticking out from between his curled lips and his glasses were sliding to the end of his nose at the angle he looking. The tower was nearly three shakers high and Y/n could hear him muttering, 'where's Haystack when you need him?' under his breath.

    The gloom Y/n had been thinking so intently on was suddenly ebbed away at the sight, and the corners of her lips hooked into a small smile.

    At least she had her favorite Trashmouth.

    "If you keep undressing me with your eyes, I'm gonna catch a cold," said Richie, never once looking up from his tower.

    Y/n snorts. "You're unbearable,"

    Richie shrugs defensively. "Hey, you're the one who said we're stuck with each other," he clicks his tongue and winks. "No going back on that kind of deal,"

    "Oh, I meant what I said," Y/n releases her chin and folds both arms on the table. She hated getting all serious again, but she just needed to be sure. Her voice softens, trying to catch Richie's eye. "All of it, okay?"

    Richie's hand around the salt shaker stops, and he pries his eyes off the tower and to his best friend. Despite her intentions and promises, everything that transpired the day before -- good and bad -- flooded over him and made him tense.

    She suddenly offered him her pinky and a small smile.

    "Stuck forever?"

    Richie rolls his eyes. He didn't quite know who to blame, maybe just the losers in general, but he was going all soft and lame.

    "Like my ass and a toilet seat, toots,"

    He locked his pinky with hers and the deal was sealed forever.

    Y/n leaned back on her side of the booth and took a large swig of the complimentary water as her eyes returned to the streets. The chatter of the diner had died down a little. There weren't as many people since they got there, but they were still filtering in and out. But when Y/n had a hard time shaking off the images she had of her best friend in the state he had been, she deems it safe enough to lean forward and lowered her voice.

    "You know," she began picking at her napkin, making slow and tiny tears here and there. "I--" she sighs, not knowing how or where to begin. "I wouldn't blame you."

    Richie, having abandoned his shaker tower, frowns.

"I wouldn't blame you if maybe, it was -- or is hard to be..." she shakes her head again and rubs her forehead trying to find the words. "I wouldn't blame you if it was hard to be around me and Eddie," She blurts.

    "I'm gonna stop you right there," Richie says. "We're not gonna do that, okay? You have exceeded your sappy meter and you're gonna need to wait about 48 hours for it to charge up again. I think we've both had enough, right?"

    Y/n swallowed her words. She swallowed any promise she was holding out to him that their feelings for Eddie wouldn't change anything. That she wouldn't ever want to stand in their way, however true it was. And instead, she made a new one.

    "Let's just agree, whatever happens, happens. Let that be whatever it needs to be. Even if that means neither of us gets to see that adorable, asthmatic pipsqueak ever again. Deal?"

    Y/n fought the bittersweet smile threatening to appear. She could see it now. Richie knew what he needed to know about himself now, and that was already a lot for him to handle. She could see in his eyes he wasn't ready for the possibility of whatever was his feelings for Eddie Kaspbrak.

    Y/n's stomach turns to knots when the thought crosses her mind, but that only confirms to her it was time.

    She looks around the diner, looking for prying eyes and she still finds none. She leans in, voice lowered as she fiddles with her napkin again. "I'm uh--," she clears her throat. "I've never told anyone this, but..."

    She lets out a sharp breath. "Well, let's just say Eddie isn't the first Loser I've ever had feelings for,"

    Richie shakes his head, making a "what am I supposed to do with that?" face at her sudden shyness. She only gives him a solid stare until it finally clicks.

    Richie collapses against the seatback with a gaping, triumphant look.

    "No. Fucking. Way," Richie slaps his hands on the table and leans forward, and an ugly excited laugh comes barreling out of his chest. "You big homo!"

    "Would you fucking shut up?!" Y/n hisses, reaching over and shoving him back against his seat by his forehead. She looks around the diner and determines no one had heard that. Maybe except one guy in his forties, but that was most likely about him knowing they did something to the jukebox. He was sat with his young kids, looking tired and all too suspicious of their laughter at the jukebox. Finally, she laughs a little. "Beep, beep you moron."

    "You telling me you and Little Orphan Annie...?"

    "I'm saying," Y/n sighs, shrugging her shoulders. "I meant it when I said you're not alone, alright?"

    The look in Richie's eyes hardly changes.

    "No!" She answers. "No, nothing's happened but..." Y/n shook her head. "I had feelings for a really long time, up until about two years ago."

    "Wowza," Richie sighs, leaning back into his seat and plopping one hand on the table. He sighs. "We sure know how to pick em,"

    "Yeah, you could say that," Y/n laughs.

    In fact, that's all she could say. A million things ran through her head, things she wanted to say to Richie but couldn't. Cause when she looked in Richie's eyes at that moment she -- they both -- knew everything unsaid could remain that way. With one look they knew. They knew that they could both count on each other, have each other's back. And that included Eddie too. They knew that no matter who held Eddie's heart, they could both agree that Eddie's happiness -- and each other's -- was most important.

    The sound of brass instruments invaded the atmosphere, pulling the duo's eyes to the jukebox across the diner. Their faces lit up in matching grins, both of them nearly forgetting the psychological horror they had just unleashed upon the diner.

    "What's new pussycat? Woah, wo~ah,"

    And thus began the best meal they ever had.

- 𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗘 𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗦𝗧 -

    Y/n relished at the demanding burst of cool air that bombarded her sweaty skin as she stepped inside Keene's pharmacy. The grip on the money she had scraped together tucked tightly in her right palm grew tighter when the shopkeeper's bell announced her arrival. Her eyes fell to her injured leg, and by now her feet have already begun their journey forward towards the first aid supplies. The last of the bandages secured around her leg, and she winced at the faded and stained cloth that was in dire need of a change.

    Her eyes pick up from the ground when she hears a choked gasp only to find the boy that had been occupying her thoughts standing before her.

    "Y/n," His voice is meek and heavy with sadness, and you can hear the absence of breath in his lungs that she always seemed to create.

    Despite the staggering stampede of emotions she felt, she found herself releasing a chuckle. "Hey, shrimp."

    The name itself would have been strong enough to send hooks into the corner of his lips, tugging them into a half-smile had it not been for the sight before him; she was a wreck. Looked as if she had been put through an actual wringer and his heart stops for a moment, in fear. At that moment he is grateful he has his inhaler, Y/n had a talent for taking his breath away but he never would have dreamed of it happening this way. Already his mind is going at twice its speed, a mad swarm of thoughts that dizzy his head, and as quickly as he can he tries to pluck one - just one - thing to say to her. When he finally speaks, he is thankful that his voice has returned to him.

    "How's your leg?"

    He doesn't have to ask, the first thing he saw - the very feature that tipped him off about her - was the blood-soaked bandages wrapped around her left calf. He couldn't imagine why it would still be bleeding, much less this profusely given how long ago it had been. Perhaps it had opened back up. And Eddie felt it best not to address the new set of scrapes and bandages that were scattered across her arms and legs, though each one filled him with worry. But her eye... it was completely swollen, and several shades darker than a usual bruise.

    She grew rather sick looking at the question and instantly he was filled with dread. Had It gotten to her again? Was it something new entirely? Either way, he felt a great deal of guilt he hadn't been there, and more than anything he wanted her safe. Maybe, if it wasn't too crazy, be the one to look out for her. To protect her.

    "I just," she swallows thickly, eyes darting around to avoid his eye line.

    Eddie tilts his head, encouraging her to continue. She looks as if she's about to unload a great deal off of her chest, but after a moment she shakes her head.

    "Nothing," she lies. "Just need new bandages."

    Eddie's horrified expression does not waver, but only intensifies, zeroing in on her. He just simply can't ignore the state she's in. And while every instinct inside him screams to jump in and help, he knows that's not his call nor his place. But he had to ask, he had to know.

    "Are you okay?" He blurts suddenly. He mentally slapped himself. Of course she wasn't. "What happened...? You're leg? You're eye? Are you in trouble at home? Was it...?"

    She grows tense, and Eddie scolds himself once more when he sees her walls rebuilding themselves. He hated his stupid word vomit sometimes.

    "No, Eddie!" she says tiredly, sighing at her slight outburst. "I'm..." she sighs again, staring at the floor, looking almost... calculated.

    Finally, she picks her head back up, her expression flat, but her tone a bit softer. "Just Bowers. The usual."

    Eddie couldn't help but feel like she was lying. And that hurt him. But he understood. If she had pressed him about things at home he probably would have done the same. Eddie sighed deeply as well.

    He missed the way things were.

    He missed Y/n.

    He missed the feeling he got around her, the storm of butterflies and mind-numbing fits of laughter they'd bring out in one another. He missed the way his skin would tingle like every blood cell was on fire when their skin accidentally brushed together. Eddie missed the way he'd lose himself in thoughts about her like he was now.

    Eddie didn't realize it until that last thought crossed his mind, but this was the first time in weeks he felt something other than anxiety and fear. And maybe he was crazy, but when he looked in Y/n's eyes now he thought he saw it too -

    "I'm sorry, Eddie," she says, breaking him from his daydream, sending him falling back down to earth. "But I really need to take care of this."

    He glances down at her leg, the bandage still soaked with blood and he feels fear squeeze his chest again. She was leaving. And that meant he had to, as well. He would have to say goodbye and go back home to his mother. He could hear her haunted cries, whining at him and wailing. What took you so long, Eddie? Don't you know what you're doing to my heart?

    Eddie goes rigid at the thought when he realizes; the last time he saw Y/n... Those horrible things his mother had said to her and he... Jesus, what she must think.

    "Y-Y/n," he sputters desperately as she begins to limp around him. She had gotten no answer for once again he had gotten lost in his thoughts. But he couldn't have it end like this. He just couldn't. "Y/n, I'm sorry."

    She stops in her tracks and looks back at him, thoughtfully. A sad smile graces her face.

    "I know, shrimp,"

    Her eyes hold a thousand words, a million things she wants to say to him as he wants to say to her. But they die out, and she turns away.

    "Y/n!"

    He couldn't let her go, he just couldn't. Then why was this so difficult? He always had a mouthful to say, but around Y/n L/n, Eddie was always speechless.

    "I wanna..." he gulps, a pleading, sincere look in his eyes. "I wanna see you again." He admits.

    Y/n smiles sadly. Like she doesn't want to let him go either. But still, she gives him a pleading look after gesturing to her leg.

    "Eddie, I gotta take care of this,"

     His head sunk to the floor and he nodded, embarrassed. Of course, what the hell was he thinking? She didn't need him coming in and messing things -

    Her sudden sigh broke his thoughts. "Meet me outside in five? I could use some help,"

     A nervous smile broke out, stretching and hurting his cheeks and Eddie nodded when he met her eye. He was out the door without another word, back in the alley where he had first bandaged her up all those months ago.

    His mind raced with possibility and more unanswered questions. What would he do, what would he say? What had happened to her, and could he have been there to stop it? His face still burned with embarrassment when he thought of the things he let his mother say to her, how livid he was with himself.

    It was all he could do not to bounce off the walls from the jitters. The crates from the last alley visit, or at least some like it, remained and so Eddie eagerly took a seat. His knee bounced up and down at unnatural speeds as his mind raced, his eyes wandering the alley as the wind swept in a familiar summer breeze against his cheeks.

    "I really need to focus right now," he orders, his hands making delicate work of the bandage over the new kid's stomach.

    "You need to focus?" Richie snorts over his shoulder, causing Eddie's cheeks to burn.

    "Yeah, can you go get me something?"

    "Jesus! What do you need?"

    "Go get my bifocals. I hid 'em in my second fanny pack."

    Y/n leaned forward, balanced on her knees with a crooked smile that would with Eddie for days. "You have a second fanny pack?"

    The burning in his cheeks grew, and Stan joined in. "Yeah, why do you have two?"

    Eddie didn't dare meet anyone's eye, let alone Richie or Y/n's.

    "I need to focus right now and it's a long story. I don't want to get into it."

    Besides! He was telling the truth! He needed to focus. Who knows what kind of shit has gotten into this kid's system by now?

    Eddie had nearly finished with the new kid's bandages when he heard the jingle of the store bell.

    "Yep. Thanks." Came the hardened voice of Y/n backing out and towards the alley with a pressed and forced smile before turning for the alley and away from whoever she had been talking to. Eddie was the only one to have caught the small whispered words under her breath from the silence of the alley. "-for nothing, I guess..."

    Eddie shot up from his seat, subconsciously straightening out his shirt.

    "Everything okay? What was that all about?" He asked as Y/n finally joined him. Eddie sputtered, mentally kicking himself for prying. "I mean, you don't have to tell me or anything, it's just you seemed frustrated. You know what never mind, you probably want to get your leg fixed up, right?"

   Eddie stopped again, shifting on his feet when he realized Y/n must be waiting to talk. "Sorry," he mumbled. And to his great surprise, she smiled.

    "Don't be. I've missed your word vomit," she joked.

    Eddie could feel the corners of his lips twitching up in a smile, and something happened to him he hadn't felt in a long time; flutters invaded his chest, making the air he breathed feel lighter and his stomach was doing flips. And he would have fallen harder had he known Y/n's stomach was doing flips right along with him, and a burning sensation lighting up her neck and ears.

    "Well, here-" Eddie said, snapping out of his daze, no longer able to stand by and ignore the gash in her leg. He supposed it really was like old times. He stepped aside, gesturing for the crates and taking the bag of supplies Y/n had handed over.

    "For real though," Eddie began, eyeing her nervously as he unzipped his fanny bag and begun fishing inside for hand wipes. "What happened, Y/n?"

    Her smile fell, and her eyes dropped to her lap where her fingers fiddled together. To Eddie, it felt like a long time before she finally answered.

    "A lot's happened since Niebolt, I'll leave it at that,"

    Eddie nodded, and stepped forward, lowering himself to his knees before her injured leg, and began unwrapping the first of the supplies from her grocery bag. "It feels like years ago,"

    "Yeah, it does," Y/n croaks.

    There's another small silence and Eddie feels a tug in his chest when her eyes linger over him. He only spares a moment to meet her eyes back before taking a deep breath and holding it. With a wince, he unraveled the cloth and quickly discarded it. He tried not to linger on the injury; the edges of her claw-like scars remained, but it looked as if they had been messily pried back open.

    Like deja vu, Eddie found himself battling to keep his lunch in his stomach, but the overall worry in his system for one of his best friends triumphed over it this time around. He dismissed the urge to gag and instead darted his eyes to Y/n in between his work.

    "So..." he asked, realizing he didn't really know where to start. "how have you been? Other than, you know," he laughed nervously.

    To his relief, Y/n smiled.

    "It's hard not being around the losers. I only ever see Richie anymore. Even Bev and I haven't really spoken since the fight, which has been really hard. We've been in each other's lives for so long,"

    As Eddie finishes cleaning the wound, his heart sinks a little at her words. True, he missed Beverly very much. But he also knew all too well what Y/n spoke of, and judging by the look in her eye as she softens at him, she knows it too. She gives him a gentle nudge with her foot.

    "He misses you too," she says, growing another small smile. "Won't shut up about you, in fact. Which is saying something... Guess I'm one to talk, though," she adds, watching him nervously out of the corner of her eye, and Eddie's heart skipped another beat.

    "What about you, shrimp? Dare I ask?" She says with a smile.

    Eddie, Y/n noticed, had been unusually quiet. By now, on any other occasion, he would have talked laps around her by now but something was keeping him. Maybe he just feels a bit out of step, she thinks, as she did. It had been far too long since things had been normal for either of them. But something told her he was now particularly quiet perhaps because he wasn't all that eager to share how things had been for him since the losers split. She couldn't imagine things had been well at home with his mother given everything that had transpired.

    So she didn't pry. She changes the subject, hoping to get his mind off of whatever might be bothering him. Her mind returns to his previous questions, and she bites the bullet.

    "Quitting my job." She says finally, stunning Eddie enough to pull his attention away for a split second. "You wondered what I was doing there. And aside from restocking, I was um... I was quitting my job."

    "You got a job at Keene's Pharmacy? When?" Eddie asked, reaching for a strip of gauze.

    Y/n seemed to think about it for a minute, counting the days in her head before shrugging. Leaning forward, she holds the gauze in places Eddie begins applying the bandages. "I guess a little over two weeks after Niebolt. I did little things around the store, this and that really,"

    "How come I never saw you?" Eddie asked, and Y/n shrugged.

    "He had me running errands most of the time," and she smiled a little. "But sometimes I'd stick around a little longer. I'd offer to sweep or restock the shelves or something. It's stupid, I know, but... I don't know, I guess I was hoping to see some admittedly cute... shrimpy little dude come walking in to refill his inhaler. Is that stupid?"

    Eddie paused, unable to hide the smile or the raging blush taking over his face. Y/n smiled to herself when she saw it, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't feeling a little bit of it too. Finally, Eddie spoke. Or at least, he tried to. His voice came out hoarse and he cleared his throat, quickly shaking his head as he secured the bandages in place and began disinfecting his hands.

    "No. No, that's not stupid at all. I mean, I don't know if I'd say shrimpy, necessarily, maybe a little skinny but-"

    Y/n laughed, smiling hard at the boy she hadn't stopped thinking about for weeks. Like Eddie, she hadn't realized just how much she had missed him until now. But, she hoped, maybe she could change that.

    Eddie trailed off, his ears burning at her laugh but a smile on his face all the same. At this moment, everything was perfect. Or seemingly so, at least. And then...

    "Thanks, Doctor K,"

     He smiled, a sinking feeling in his chest knowing what was coming next as she hoisted herself back on her feet. "Yeah, of course."

    A silence falls over the two, a silence they know won't last.

    "I guess I should get going," Y/n says finally, gesturing down the alleyway. "I'm meeting up with Richie later, he's swinging by my place." And for a moment, she looks hopeful and Eddie already knows what she's going to ask. "You're welcome to come. We both really miss you,"

    Yet again, Eddie Kaspbrak finds himself with a million thoughts racing in his head, but no words on his tongue. What could he say that wouldn't hurt her? What could he say that wouldn't essentially admit he was still a coward who couldn't stand up to his own mother? What could he say?

    But evidently, he doesn't have to. Y/n can see it in his eyes, and any trace of hope deflates with her. She nods sadly, eyes now on the ground and her freshly bandaged leg. "I get it, Eddie. It's fine. You don't have to say anything."

    "Y/n..." He didn't know what felt worse; knowing he let her down, or the sound of her using his real name.

    "Really, it's okay,"

    But it wasn't okay. And Eddie knew that. Today he had been given a second chance with Y/n, and already he had fucked it up. Or so he thought...

    A smile returned to her face just before she left; it wasn't nearly as bright as it had been moments ago, but it was as real as any other he had seen all summer. And then she spoke. She spoke the three words over her shoulder as she disappeared out of view that returned a familiar spark to his chest.

    "I'll call you."

    There was hope yet.

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[savoies]

Remember Those Days - Dylan Holloway.

Summary: Dylan forgets your anniversary and slowly remembers.

Word Count: 1.7k 

Warnings: mentions of sex and maybe a few bad words.

A/N: This fic went through about five rough drafts until I finally came up with one I liked. It was supposed to be an angst fic but hey we deserve something cute every once in a while, enjoy!

taglist: @hartsyhart ​ @nhlpetey ​ @mitch-slap @frostythegoalman @ryanssuzuki  @aria253264 ​  @josty ​ @kaitieskidmore1 ​ @kiedhara ​ @laurenairay ​ @teenagekook ​ ​ @alxvlasic ​ ​ @hockeyallthetime ​ ​ @barzy-baby ​ ​ @officialgritty ​ @bowenbyram ​ @mems06 ​ ​ @joshsandersons ​  @connormcdavo ​ @maattamatthews ​ @pierreslucdubois ​ ​ @selenophileangel @boqvistsbabe @ana-maa @stars-canucks

tagging some friends: @npatrickz ​ @bestestbenn ​ @heybarzy @tkachuk-yeah @cozycozzy ​ @2manytabsopen .

(*credit to the gif owner*)

Today was your third year anniversary with Dylan. Honestly after a few years today your anniversary date was just spent at home doing whatever your heart desired together. Well today it seemed as though your boyfriend's heart desired to be with his friends.

“Babe I'm gonna hang out with the boys, I'll see you later ok.” he said as he placed a soft kiss on your lips. 

“Oh ok, but you’ll be home before six right?” you asked. 

“I was planning on coming back around ten, just depending on what we do, why do we have plans?” He asked, raising his eyebrow questionly. You shook your head no and let him walk out. You didn’t want to be one of those significant others that made a big deal out of it. You knew he was forgetful. I mean last week he had forgotten where he had left his phone the night before. You were used to this. At least you thought you were. Looking back at your time together Dylan had never forgotten any special dates. He had remembered all your firsts together down to a t.

Your first date.

First dates. Stereotypical to be an awkward time between two people to decide if they like like eachother or not. Well for you and Dylan that was not the case. Most sixteen year olds would go out to the movies or go down to the carnival in town (if there was one). But not you and him. Having grown up as acquaintances you were used to having him around. Honestly kind of surprised when he had asked you out but I mean hanging with Dylan was always a good time. It was a simple gesture and quite frankly you weren't sure how to say no. You had just gotten off of school and since both of you lived so close to each other he just decided to walk with you instead of asking one of his friends for a ride. 

“Hey Y/N wait up.” you turned around to be faced with the smiley blonde haired boy that you had grown accustomed to.

“Hey Holloway, whats up.” you spoke up as you kept your eyes trained on the ground. 

"You busy tonight?” he said as he nervously grabbed the straps of his backpack waiting for a response.

“Well considering I have homework but i'm pretending I don't then no i do not, why up for a late night adventure?” You looked up at him with a smirk. When you guys were younger you would sneak out of your rooms and go on adventures around the neighborhood until your parents would call you up and ask where you were.

“Actually kind of, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come over later?” he shot you a small smile hoping that you would get the hint of him asking you out.

You thought about his words as they registered in his mind. If this was a dinner with his parents then your family members would have known as well. But he was asking you specifically which meant only one thing. “Oh uhm like a date, I mean yeah uhm sure.” you smiled back at him. I mean how bad could it be. Being in a small space with one of the cutest and nicest dudes you knew, yeah not a big deal at all. 

Later that night as you went over to his house you did not suspect what was about to go down. This wasn't a basic date and I think that is why you remember it so well other than the fact that it was with Dylan. You guys spent the whole night cuddled on the couch watching hockey game reruns and just talking about life, and not one single moment did he make you feel uncomfortable. 

Your first kiss.

Kisses are supposed to be magical. First kisses are usually awkward and yours was both. It was late one night and both of you sat on your porch after a date just looking at the stars and enjoying each other's company before you had to get back inside. Maybe it was a in the moment thing or the fact that you really really enjoyed your time together but next thing you know both of you were leaning into each other. Which of course for it being your first kiss something has to go bad. Somehow both of you made a wrong move or something and next thing you know Dylan’s bottom lip was bleeding.

“Oh my god Dylan I am so sorry.” You spoke up as you tried looking for a napkin or something.

“Honestly if my lip had to bleed everytime i kiss you I can handle it.” he looked up at you softly.

“Oh my gosh you are literally bleeding and you're using this time to make moves on me.” You laughed.

“Hey, it's working right?” he laughed as you hit him on the shoulder and waved him goodbye as he walked back home.

First I love you.

I love you. Honestly seems like everyone makes those words a really big deal. Some people saying don’t say it back if you don’t feel the same way, others saying try to refrain from it as long as possible. For you and Dylan it had been about ten months into the relationship. Him being away at one of his many hockey games. He was anxious. Honestly the most anxious you had ever seen him like this. Some scouts were going to be there and he had to make a good impression which of course you weren't worried about but he was. He had called you saying that your voice calmed him.

“What do you want to talk about?” you questioned.

“Literally anything other than this game.” He let out a breath he had been holding.

“Well I had a burger today from that place you like.” You randomly blurted out.

“Wait are you serious, how rude of you not to wait for me.”

“Don't come between me and my food.” Both of you continued on talking about each other's day until his coach came into the locker room.

“Ok Y/N I have to go wish me luck.” He sighed.

“Good luck Dyl you got this, I love you.” And before you could stop yourself from saying it those three words that seemed so powerful slipped out of your mouth first. I mean you didn't expect to say it first. Or even say it so soon. You knew it was true and had felt this way for a while but you didn't think you'd fall for him so soon. 

“What what, dId you, can you repeat that.” Dylan spoke up as a huge smile grew on his face. Honestly he was planning on telling you tonight but it seemed as though you beat him.

“Ah fuck it, I love you Dylan Holloway now go kick some hockey player butt.” You smiled on the other side of the phone call.

“Holloway, get a move on.” His coach yelled.

“Ok babe I have to go, I love you.” After that night he brought back a win and both of you laid in bed together exchanging the three words back and forth with huge smiles on your faces.

First Anniversary.

Honestly if people had told you that one day you would be going out with the boy a few doors down you would’ve told them that they were crazy. But one year later you were still going strong. And doing the same thing you did for your first date except this time with chocolate. Lots of chocolate. It was sweet. Dylan having had practice earlier in the day and texting you many times throughout the day on how he thought it was crazy how someone like you could date someone like him. He came home tired and all you did was lay in each other's arms as you played with his hair and both of you slowly drifted off to sleep.

First time.

First times. Scary could be one word for them. Opening up to someone on a vulnerable and exposed level can be one way to see it. Another way to see it is giving yourself entirely to the person you love. 

Draft day. A special day in many hockey players' lives. The day that will basically decide their future for them. It’s like the game life. Picking a career and a salary except for them is someone else doing it for them. So here Dylan was waiting and waiting as they called names and teams. 

You were a few doors down following the live draft deciding that it was better if he got this special moment with his family and you guys could spend time together later. 

As your boyfriend's name appeared on your screen you jumped up and down your room. Dylan having exchanged hugs and done the whole post draft interviews he came over. As he walked into your room you jumped into his arms. 

“Dylan, I'm so proud of you.” you whispered in his ear.

“I love you.” He replied as he softly but needingly kissed you. As one thing led to another both of you were on top of each other exchanging messy kisses with the door closed. Hands all over each other as articles of clothing were scattered across the floor. 

Waking up from the events of the past night brought a smile to your face as you laid in your boyfriend's arms with your legs intertwined. 

~~~~

Dylan had come back home as soon as realization hit him. How could he have forgotten. You were sitting on the couch watching some random reality show that was playing. 

“Hey Dyl, why are you back so soon?”  you asked on why he was six hours earlier than he had said. 

“Y/N baby fuck i messed up. Shit im so sorry.” he came over and placed a kiss on your lips.

“Dyl baby it’s ok, I can think of a few ways you can make it up to me.” you smiled.

“Wait so I forget our three year anniversary and you're completely fine with it?” He asked.

“Remind me what we did for our first year anniversary.” You looked up your boyfriend.

“We sat in my room and watched hockey games.” He looked at you trying to see what you were getting at.

“And how long did that take?”

“I don’t know like three hours?” He questioned.

“So what's stopping us from doing it now, come here.” you said as you wrapped your hands around his taller figure. Both of you laid together for the rest of the day all your cares washing away.

[ill-skillsgard]

Faust x Faith - No Looking Back

Warning: 18+ smut, public sex, violence, blood, arson, implied death, mentions of non-consensual touching (nothing explicit and no r-words used,) mentions of stalking, unconsciousness, anti-religious themes, strong language.

Note: Hey, hey. I’ve wanted to write this for a while, but haven’t had much time. This isn’t based on any requests—just something I feel needs to happen to move the universe along. After this, I’ll be basing future FxF stuff off drabble requests instead of going story-heavy for a bit. Likes, comments and reblogs are suuuper ‘ppreciated!

Summary: - Not based on Lords of Chaos. I use Faust!Valter’s likeness only as inspiration - 3.6K words -

Faust makes good on his word to protect Faith, taking drastic measures to assure her assailant never bothers her again.

Read more Faust x Faith here [x]

Thin raindrops pattered the man's leather jacket as he walked through the streets with his hood drawn up and his eyes low. For two days, the drizzle persisted and melted the black snowbanks into slush. Though the dismal atmosphere kept most inside, Sven had good reason to travel across town on foot. The promise of a girl's company waited at the end of his route, and he put off his regular nightly routine of masturbating to fetish porn for—what he hoped was—the real thing.

He glanced at his cracked phone screen every few minutes to check in with her, making sure she hadn't changed her mind, that she was serious. From the earnestness of her messages and the speed at which she replied to his questions, he determined she meant what she said about wanting to meet. Finally, his luck was turning. He’d show that miserable bastard Faust who was the better man.

- What abt ur bf? Lol

- What about him? Not here, is he?

- Thought u were a good girl.

- Haha, not really. Are you close?

- Ya. Y r we meeting at this random place?

- I need you to promise you won't tell a soul. If you can prove that to me, maybe we can keep meeting up.

- Lol ok. I PROMISE I won't say a word😉

- Thank you. Hurry, please. It's cold out!

- Be there in 5. I'll let u wear my jacket altho idk might not need it😉

- Hehe omgosh. You're making me blush.

- I'll make u do way more then blush baby. Just wait.

Sven lengthened his strides and turned the corner onto a hill leading toward the industrial area of town. Down the slope, he walked past several warehouses and legions of trucks parked inside barbed-wire fencing. It was a peculiar site to meet up, but his rendezvous insisted on a place nobody would think to look.

Betting his night would take an erotic turn, Sven popped a piece of gum in his mouth and chewed away the cigarette taste. He was seconds away from the spot she chose to meet, and his chest constricted with excitement. His boots crunched over gravel and garbage as he walked down a narrow alley between two faceless buildings. There was an open lot at the end of the lane, where he assumed she was waiting. As he made his way through the dimly lit alley, he whistled to make his presence known. The shrill tune reverberated off an overflowing dumpster to his left, and as he stepped to clear the reeking trash receptacle, something hard and blunt swung out at eye-level and flattened him to the ground.

Dazed and blinded from the sudden strike, he tried moving his mouth, but only a bubble of blood popped from his lips. A piercing stream of sound filled his ears as the edges of his vision turned dark. A large black figure came into view above, haloed by the soggy grey sky in the deepening veil. The featureless shadow chuckled deeply before a heavy boot's tread put out his lights.

~*~

Several hours passed before Sven's eyelids shuddered. By then, his assailant had had plenty of time to tie him to a wooden chair and organize his instruments of punishment. A headache blistered through the man's skull, throbbing in his eye sockets until he gained enough consciousness to open them. When he saw the person who had knocked him out, his throat closed and the gasp ripping through came out high-pitched.

"Faust... Please... Don't—" Sven hiccoughed. "Don't do this. I'm sorry. I'm SORRY!"

Faust, who had been facing the doorway at the end of a long red runner, turned toward Sven, holding a hammer's handle in one hand while cradling the head in the other. A malicious smirk peeked out from a curtain of black hair. He took a step forward, the clomp of his leather boots echoing through the church. Each step made a menacing sound that bit down on Sven's nerves and rattled his sensitive skull.

"What are you apologizing for?"

"I know you hate me, but please, don't hurt me. I swear I'll never talk to her again!"

Faust approached, flashing the obsidian hammerhead. He tossed the tool in his grip and stuck his hand into his pocket, producing several five-inch nails.

"No! God, no, please! Faust! Don't do this!"

The black-haired giant stopped to admire the curve of the hammer’s prongs. Sven looked around the empty church and saw a jerrycan taking up space in a nearby pew. He immediately started struggling against the jute rope binding his wrists and ankles to the chair as Faust drew nearer, smile uncoiling.

"I already gave you the chance to never talk to her again. Remember?"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"Sorry means fuck all to me. You should know that. The only reason you left the campsite with your dick intact is because of the witnesses," Faust said, then spun around with his arms out, showcasing their solitude. "Now, it's just you and me."

"Please don't," Sven muttered through swollen lips. "Fuck, I'll do anything!"

"There's nothing you can do. Nothing a sorry sack of human waste can provide this world to make me change my mind."

"SHE LIED!"

Faust jingled the nails in his jacket, reminding Sven who held the weapon.

"Whatever she told you... It's not true! I was at the party, but I didn't do anything to her!" Sven's voice cracked.

"Oh... So you didn't follow her into my bedroom?"

"No! I talked to her for a minute, and that's all. That's all, I swear, Faust. Don't kill me."

The stomp of boots neared the altar where Sven struggled in the chair. He twisted to loosen the rope and slipped one hand out. Faust grabbed his wrist and pinned it to the arm of the chair, readying a nail between his lips as he gripped the hammer. Sven let out a scream, stifled instantly by the hammerhead. Faust wedged the metal between his teeth and hissed.

"Shut the fuck up, or I'll use this to smash your teeth out like a goddamn window. Understand me?"

Sven nodded and quaked as Faust placed the tip of the nail against the soft, flat part of his forearm.

"Stay still. If I fuck up and hit the Radial or Ulnar artery... You could bleed out before I'm done. Gotta get it right between the bones." Faust slapped the pale skin to reveal blue veins. He pressed the nail’s tip in place and rose the hammer above his head, bringing it down and stopping short of the head as Sven shrieked.

Faust cackled. "Jesus Christ, dude. Did you really think I was gonna nail you to a chair?"

Sven groaned, relieved and moist with cold sweat. "Faust, I'm serious. Please, man. You gotta believe me."

His dark laughter continued, bouncing off the high ceilings, the wooden pews and polished floors. As Sven let out his own nervous chuckle, Faust brought the hammer down in one swift pull, then slapped his hand over Sven's gaping mouth to stifle the screams. Howling, Sven rattled his head back and forth as a searing bolt of pain tore through his right arm, crackling in his shoulder where it burned and burned.

Faust tore his phone out of his back pocket and brought up a video, slamming the screen into Sven's face. The video of him grabbing Faith in his room while he was states away watching the live feed from the camera he'd set up on the desk.

"I knew these little cameras would come in handy. See? I know what you did, you stupid fuck. And you know what else? I would have just beat the shit out of you had I not stopped by your place before our little meeting."

Sven whined, tears pouring from his eyes in steady streams.

"Oh, yeah. That's right. I went into your room... Saw some interesting things on your computer. At first, I thought it was just standard fucking creep shit. Snuff porn, torture... Teen girls. None of that surprised me... Until I dug around and found your little stalker file buried in your folders. You didn't even encrypt it. How fucking stupid are you?"

"I'm sorry," Sven shook.

"Why are you apologizing to me?"

"I'm sorry for touching her. I should have left her alone."

"What'd you think was gonna happen? That she wouldn't tell me? Or that I wouldn't believe her? And now I know you've been following Faith around, taking pictures of her, you fucking predator. And what about those other women, huh? You sorry about them, too?"

"Yes! I'm sorry. I know I have problems! I'm trying to get help. Please, Faust. If you let me go, I promise I'll do it. I'll get better. I haven’t hurt anyone!"

Faust shook his head slowly, grunting in refusal. "No. I meant what I said when I told you I'd crucify you if you went near Faith again. I'm doing the world a favour."

Sven hung his head and bled from the grievous wound pinning him to the chair, shuddering weakly from his injuries. Faust would never relent. He'd witnessed the drummer's cold disdain, the malignant hatred living inside that made him turn to the dark with open arms. Faust wasn't an actor. He pledged himself to the darkness with unyielding conviction, never one to take such things lightly. This realization depleted Sven's will to reason with the man.

Faust gripped another thick nail and drove it through Sven's left arm, smiling as blood dripped from the wood onto the church altar. The violent yelps filled Faust with morbid delight as he pressed the bloodied hammer under his victim's chin and raised his face.

"You're gonna die tonight, Sven."

"What makes you better than me? You'll be a murderer," Sven stuttered. "You hurt people, too."

"You and I are not the same. Don't ever compare yourself to me. You're a coward, and I warned you. Tread on what's mine, and I'll destroy you. That's what I said."

"All this over a girl? Are you fucking crazy!?"

Faust stooped to one knee, looking up at Sven as though the insult had cut him. Faust's brows arched, bottom lip jutting outward as he studied Sven, who closed his eyes. Then, Faust rose to his feet, leather stretching from the motion. Faust tapped his chin, smiled, and leaned over to whisper, "yes... Totally fucking crazy."

With a powerful kick to the chest, Faust sent the chair and Sven toppling backward. He then unzipped his pants, pulled out his manhood and giggled as he emptied his bladder on the weeping man. While Sven cried and moaned, Faust closed his zipper, whistling merrily. He left Sven on his back and snatched the jerrycan from the pew, taking slow, calculated steps while twisting off the cap and dousing the altar in gasoline.

As the gas trickled, Sven's desperation mounted. He could not flail, so he screamed. Faust gently reminded him what he'd do to Sven's teeth if he carried on shouting. The pinned man blubbered and begged, but Faust ignored his pleas. Inside his head, all Faust heard was the sound of flames rushing into a circle around Sven, crackling over the carpet and up the old church's wooden beams. By the time the roof caught fire, Faust had planned on being long gone.

"Please, Faust... You'll regret this! I know you're a serious person, but this is too far. You won't be able to live with yourself!"

"Wrong. I couldn't live with myself knowing I let a vulture like you walk this planet freely." Faust poured a trail down the floor runner, far away from the altar. He tossed the can aside and looked up at the Catholic saints' stained-glass portrayals and Jesus at the center of it all, staring down with sad eyes. Faust took a book of matches from his pocket and ripped one from the bunch, running its tip across the ignitor strip until a small flame burst to life. Faust flicked the match to the ground without a second thought, and the flame ate up the gasoline trail swiftly. The church was illuminated, and the colourful glass windows came to life. Faust raised his eyes to the forlorn Jesus and leered while the fire spread.

He did not stay to admire his work or revel in the cries of a man burning alive. Faust fled before the fire consumed the church, not once looking back or wondering if his victim had somehow escaped. He trudged through puddles of slush, hair swinging in the wind, white shadows of breath leaving his mouth.

It was time to get back to finish the tour. But he had one more stop to make.

~*~

Faith left the mall after helping close the book store. She received small smiles and nods from the mall staff as they locked doors and unfolded security gates. Some of the people she had spoken to before, and some she had only seen in passing. Though she returned their pleasantries, inside Faith was fretting. She tried not to worry about her boyfriend or ask where he was under strict orders to go about her day as usual.

She stepped into the evening air as the sun sank, taking the blue from the sky along for the descent. Wisps of white cloud stretched across the pink and violet above. Faith took in a deep breath and walked to the bus stop situated between a movie theatre and a dollar store. She popped her earbuds in and turned on a song that reminded her of Faust; one he wouldn’t like. His music taste had no room for the upbeat indie rock she enjoyed. Still, she smiled when the lyrics reminded her of him.

The scent of cigarette smoke caught her attention, and she looked around, finding no culprit. She wondered where the smell came from if nobody was around but soon forgot when the city bus appeared in the distance. It had to make a long trek around the parking lot before it pulled up at the movie theatre. Faith readied her bus card to scan as another cloud of smoke enveloped her senses.

Faith whirled around, and there he was, all black and leather, white teeth clutching the filter of a cigarette. Faust smiled, his words bolting from his mouth as she clamped her arms around him and crushed her face into his chest. The leather and musk brought tears to her eyes. She ripped out her earbuds and tried not to weep.

He hushed her, lifted her off the ground and retreated into the shadowed alley between the theatre and the store. By the time the bus pulled up, Faust had pressed her against the brick wall behind the building.

"Faust. Oh my gosh, where have you been? I was so worried," Faith gasped.

"Sh, don't ask questions, baby." Faust smothered her mouth, holding her thighs around his waist.

"Mm—I love you. Oh my God. I can’t believe you’re here! I love you so freaking much."

"I know you do," Faust breathed against her lips. "I love you, too, babe."

"Tell me where you've been!"

Faust shook his head and kissed her neck instead. She raked her fingers through his hair, knocking his hood down so she could see him unobstructed.

"Told you... Don't ask... Mmkay?... Stop asking... Just let me... Mm—fuck!"

Faith pulled his pelvis inward with her thighs, rubbing against his crotch and the heavy bullet belt wrapped around his hips. In their cloud of lust, Faust pushed his black jeans down just enough to free his erection.

"Fuck, I love your little skirts. Makes it so easy," Faust murmured.

The thought of Faust showing up disquieted her, but his lips on her skin and his desire thwarted these anxieties for a while. She set aside her questions, happy to have him in her arms again and overcome by arousal. When he stretched her panties aside and pushed into her, they both froze in expressions of excruciating ecstasy. Faust tilted his head back and closed his eyes, and Faith clutched his shoulders, already writhing from the intense fulfillment between her legs.

Just as she thought Faust might drop her, he bent his knees and hoisted her higher up on the wall. In his arms, she weighed close to nothing. She missed feeling tiny against him.

"Miss my cock?" He growled in her ear.

"Yes, baby. Oh my gosh, of course, I missed it. I missed my big man."

"Yeah? Fuck, I miss my little pussy," Faust breathed. "Mm, show me those gorgeous tits."

Faith unbuttoned her work polo and stretched the collar down around her breasts for Faust to bury his face. Though there wasn't an abundance of flesh to lose himself in, Faust shivered from the first taste of her nipples. With muted groans of pleasure, he rammed into her until Faith could no longer contain her cries, unaccustomed to his girth. Faust absorbed her whimpers with his mouth, coaxing her tongue until she only hummed.

He felt ferocious from the last twenty-four hours. If he could make Faith scream without drawing attention, Faust would have slammed her into the wall and fucked her until she shredded her vocal cords. He had to keep a low profile. Even visiting Faith was a considerable risk, but one he relished taking as she clamped her thighs and rutted against him.

He supported her ass in both hands and shifted off the wall to fuck her standing up. While he took her this way, she wrapped her arms around his neck and whimpered, whispering, "yes, fuck my pussy hard, big boy. Oh, I love that big cock inside me."

Faust unhooked and held her out so he could watch her breasts jiggle with every bounce. "You still taking your birth control? I'm gonna fucking bust so hard inside you, baby."

"Yeah. Yeah, baby, do it. Fill my pussy, please. I want your cum."

Her dirty talk and sweet sobs for his cock pushed him over the edge. He cradled her head as he pushed her against the wall and throbbed between her legs until empty. Faust pulled out and immediately turned her around and bent her over to watch globs of fresh cum dripping from her wet slit. He used one finger to push some of it back inside and had her suck off the rest. Afterward, he pulled up his pants and compressed her against the wall, one hand over her mouth while the other worked her clit in gentle circles. Faust didn't stop until she squealed and shuddered against him, muffled in his jacket and writhing from the manual orgasm.

When Faith calmed down, he released her and stepped away, pulling a cigarette from the squished pack in his jacket pocket. The lighter's flame created an orange halo around his face and promptly died. He smoked like nothing had happened while she fixed her skirt, buttoned her polo and zipped up her coat.

Faith smiled up at her lover, the night blotting out most of his features.

"I'm so glad you're home," she said.

"Not for long," Faust exhaled.

Her heart quivered. "Wait, what?"

"I gotta go back."

"When?"

"Tonight."

"What? No! But... You just got back," said Faith.

Faust shrugged, his leather jacket speaking for him. The evening matured, consuming the details of her hurt expression until the streetlamps along the road came to life.

"Why did you come here?"

Faust took one last long haul off his cigarette and flicked it down the alleyway. "Listen to me, Faith... You need to quit asking questions. I'm serious. The more questions you ask, the worse it'll be. And you and I did not see each other tonight. As far as you know, I'm on tour. Understand?"

"Yes," Faith said to appease him.

"I want to stay, trust me. But I can't. You know why. All the answers you want, you already have. Don't keep bugging, don't mention it ever again."

"I want to go with you," she whispered.

"No. You stay. Go to your classes, go to work, go visit your parents. Everything normal. And I don't want you moping around either. You put on that pretty smile, and you pretend for me. I'll call you in a couple of weeks before the last show and arrange a way for you to get there."

"What do you mean you’ll call in couple of weeks?" Faith whined. “What about goodnights?”

"I don't have a phone anymore."

"Why—? Oh, um... Okay. I understand."

Faust gathered the girl up in his arms and kissed the top of her head. "Good girl. I love you, and I miss you."

"I love you, too."

He tipped her face up and sensed tears forming in her eyes. Faust shook his head. "No crying. We'll see each other very soon. Just a couple more weeks."

"I know," she sighed.

"I love you more than anything, Faith. Now, go catch your bus. Should be here in a few minutes."

"But what about you?"

"Don't worry about me. I'm on tour. I'm not even here," he explained.

Faust kissed her again, smoothed his hands over her shoulders and turned her to face the bus stop. He urged her along. "No looking back. Hop on the bus and go do your schoolwork."

"Okay," she said, determined to make him proud. Faith walked out of the shadows and into the lamplight hovering over the depot. Across the lot, the city bus pulled in, and though she longed to turn around to see Faust watching over her, she kept her eyes forward and waited. When the bus pulled up, and the doors drew back, she stepped onto the platform and smiled at the driver as she scanned her pass. Faith took a seat in the back and put in her earbuds. She searched through a list of bands and selected the only one whose logo was illegible. As she pressed play, she listened to the immediate assault of the drums, their constant and violent beat. Faith smiled—warm in her chest and between her legs.

[emilia3546]

Shadowsinger Part 21 - Gwynriel

ACOSF Spoilers! Do Not read this unless you have finished ACOSF and the Azriel bonus chapter*

Masterlist with all previous chapters

*****

Gwyn shuffled on her feet, readjusting her skirt, and silently cursed it for being in the way, she could still fight, but not as well as usual, and she'd lose precious seconds reaching for the dagger sheathed at her thigh. Azriel stood beside her, his shadows nowhere to be seen, either spread out around them to be unnoticeable, or hidden in the cloak around Gwyn's shoulders, her protests that she didn't need them having fallen on deaf ears.

"You okay?" He murmured, and she nodded,

"Just a bit nervous, I'll be alright once this first contact is over," because she could still fall at the first hurdle, Evanna had warned them that they would be scrutinized before being allowed in, even if they claimed to support the Illyrian rebellion. She stifled a smile when Azriel squeezed her fingers, their joined hands hidden beneath her cloak, but it was still a risk, they weren't supposed to be in love, she was supposed to be what the Illyrian would expect of a traditional warrior's wife, and a traditional warrior would never display affection so casually, possession yes, but not affection. If he were in love with his wife, which was rare, he'd still only display affection in private, just to maintain his image, it was one of the more ridiculous customs, Gwyn never thought more of someone than when they allowed others to see their heart. The palace doors opened and Gwyn squeezed Azriel's hand back before letting go and reluctantly dropping her gaze to the floor.

"Gavin was it, of the Skybreath Illyrian camp?" A rather young-looking man shouted from the open door,

"Indeed," Azriel replied, not shouting, but clearly making himself heard, "And my wife, Amirah," Gwyn suppressed a smile at the sound of the name that Azriel's mother had chosen, what she would have named him had he been a girl.

"We have no records of others from your supposed camp," the man's tone was low, dangerous,

"That's probably because they're all pathetic cowards who fear the repercussions of standing up for our people, ask anyone you want, I can wait, I've waited long enough for this chance, don't be the reason I lose it," Azriel matched the man's tone, but without shouting, he sounded altogether more dangerous, and Gwyn almost looked up at the feel of the man's gaze on her, fighting to keep her eyes lowered, her attention on observing the guards, the way their protocols were carried out.

"Fine. If we find out that you're lying, you're dead,"

"Good luck with that," Azriel's hand warmed her lower back, "Come on, I'll see who's made it here, then I want to find a bedchamber readied for us," Gwyn forced herself to start forwards, her bones screaming out at her for pretending to be afraid of him when she nodded, but stayed beside him when a guard moved towards them, pressing into his side at the first attempt to grab at her, "What?" Gwyn kept her frightened gaze on the guard, "Get your filthy hands off my wife," he snarled, an arm wrapping around her waist, reassuring for Gwyn, she was doing well, but to anyone else it was a display of possessiveness at a threat. "She stays with me until we reach our bedchamber, I like to know where she is, who she's with." He didn't even bother to veil the threat in his eyes when Gwyn looked up, keeping the guise of fear as she pressed against him, shying away from the guards, and allowed her gaze to dart around, marking who they were, how many of them there were, where they were posted, how alert they were. She ducked her head, following Azriel as they were led through the palace. It was just as they'd expected, with no-one taking notice of Gwyn, except to occasionally ask Azriel who she was, and then to ignore her and speak only to him, allowing her to memorize the palace, its routes, its staff, all while pretending to be quiet and unassuming.

She didn't want to watch Azriel walk away once they'd reached an empty bedchamber, didn't want to see him walking towards the enemy, all it took was one Illyrian who was high enough rank to have seen him, all it took was one recognition, and they'd try and kill him. Still, she couldn't tear her gaze away, only just remembering to make it appear that she was scared for herself, and wanted his protection, not that she was worried for him. Once he'd vanished from sight, Gwyn shot one more frightened look at the guards in the corridor and bolted herself inside the room.

Right, she did have to get the room set up, no-one was coming to do that for her, but that would take maximum half an hour, it wasn't like they exactly had luggage to unload, and then, it was a little after midday now, she'd have a few hours before dinner could be expected. Still, she was stuck in this room for now at least, she could make the most of it.

The notebook tucked into her gown wasn't big enough for every detail, not if she wanted it to last long enough, but she noted down all she'd picked up on guard movements, positions, who was alert, who was bored. It wasn't enough, she'd make a point to have Azriel find some other females to 'keep her from boredom' who she could help with palace tasks, laundry, cleaning, the Illyrians made their females do the chores at home, why not here? She'd be all over the palace that way, easily able to pick up information, it'd hopefully make their stay shorter, hopefully help with preventing a full-on civil war.

*****

Azriel couldn't dare glance over his shoulder to Gwyn, where she was undoubtedly waiting by the door to their bedchamber, even with every part of him screaming not to leave her with those people, to go back to her. He listened to what the male beside him was saying, he'd seen him before at Ironcrest, from a distance, and he was probably the highest-ranking males here, being involved in training and organisation of Ironcrest's warriors, he could be a headache later.

"Where did you find her?"

"Find who?"

"That pretty little wife of yours, I must say you're a lucky male with that one, I'd love to know what she'd feel like on my-" the male didn't get a chance to finish his sentence, breaking off with a choked gasp as Azriel slammed him against the wall, a hand curling around his throat, pure death shining in his eyes. "Whoa, calm down, I'm sorry, I wasn't gonna do anything,"

"I sure as fuck hope not," Azriel snarled, still not releasing him, fighting the urge to end him then and there, unable to shake the image of the last male who'd thought such things about Gwyn. "Touch her and it'll be last thing you ever do," the smaller male paled at the threat,

"I swear, I won't, I was saying she's beautiful," she was beautiful, but the way he'd said it, it wasn't a compliment, if Azriel hadn't reacted, maybe he would have tried something, gods, maybe someone else would. He wasn't supposed to care to like that,

"She's mine, understand?" He added, covering his tracks, the reaction was supposed to just be possessiveness, not him actually caring for her wellbeing, he wasn't supposed to be worried about that.

"Yeah, I got it," the other male was still panting when Azriel released him, "Sorry, dude, I didn't mean it like that,"

"Yes, you did, but I'm a merciful male, if you never speak of her like that again, I'll let it slide, she is beautiful, but she's mine." The male nodded,

"Noted," and took a deep breath before continuing to explain the set-up, "You're the only one from Skybreath, bunch of cowards, so we'll probably attach you to another camp, for numbers' sake, those bastards do have the advantage in that department, and they have the High Lord, and 'High Lady'," he snorted at the mention of Feyre, "But we can trust the humans to help with that,"

"How? They're fucking powerful,"

"Yeah, but they're just as susceptible to ash and faebane as the rest of us, I'd wager that they're not still taking that damned antidote. Then again, the higher-ups think we could simply kidnap their son and use him to get them to give in, but I'd like a good fight anyway, and y'know someone might end up just killing the brat, then we'd be in deep shit." Oh yes, if they harmed one hair on Nyx's head, Rhys alone was likely to simply mist the entirety of their armies before any battle, and that was if he were safety returned, at the latest, the day after he was taken, if it were longer, or if Nyx were harmed, there would be no safe place in this world for those responsible.

"Probably a bad idea that," Azriel mused,

"I'd reckon you're right, the bleeding hearts want to regain our loyalty, they'll just try and obliterate us if we hurt the boy," Azriel grunted in agreement, dropping the conversation when they turned a corner, the corridor opening into a wide chamber, filled with brawling Illyrians, a temporary training ring, not bad. He ran his gaze across the crowd, there was no-one likely to recognize him, but he still wouldn't draw attention to himself, even if wearing two siphons might do just that, but he couldn't risk it with only one, not with Gwyn here as well. He nodded a quick greeting to anyone who bothered to acknowledge him, his mind still racing. He'd have to find a way to make sure that Gwyn wasn't ever left completely on her own, if just one other male had a similar thought to the one beside him, and if he wasn't there, if she couldn't get her dagger drawn in time, he didn't want to finish that thought.

The Illyrians were well organised, not to the same degree as the loyal armies back home, but they could present a threat, especially if it was true that they were to be armed with ash and faebane. The leaders eventually decided to attach 'Gavin' to one of the smaller camps, where he'd be able to adjust more easily, where, Azriel noted with a hint of satisfaction, it would be easy to gain their trust. He made his way across the room to where his new 'comrades' were taking a break,

"Hey look, looks like they've given us the latecomer," Azriel's attention snapped to the male who'd spoken, dark hair cropped close to his skull, blue eyes, that was rare for an Illyrian, he smiled and offered his hand, "Nathan," Azriel took the proffered hand,

"Gavin, from Skybreath,"

"Oh, I was wondering if anyone would bother coming from Skybreath," Nathan chuckled, "Braver than the rest then?"

"Or more stupid," Azriel chuckled, "I've been waiting a long time for this,"

"As have we all, brother," Azriel resisted the urge to snap at him not to call him that, but forced himself to smile, to join in the conversation, and to not beat the shit out of all of them when they reclaimed a spot in the training ring. "How the fuck did you get your hands on a second siphon?" Nathan's observational skills left much to be desired, but it was wishful thinking to hope that he wouldn't notice at all, especially when Azriel had just pinned him to the mats.

"I needed it,"

"Fuck. We got a powerful one here, boys," chuckles surrounded them, and Nathan rolled his eyes as one of the others drawled,

"We know, idiot! That's why you're the only one stupid enough to fight him," another male laughed,

"He's probably some high born lord, or something,"

"Are you?" Nathan's eyes were shining with curiosity, something fairly rare for Illyrians, but he did seem young, untested, perhaps he had no idea what he was getting into, but Azriel had learned the hard way not to bother with the benefit of the doubt,

"Not really, my mother died a while back, and my father was your bog-standard warrior, nothing special really, he got killed in a border dispute a few decades ago, guess I just got lucky, the Mother likes me maybe," he shrugged, "It certainly helped on the way over here, since no one else came with us, it was just me and my wife, and she's not much help with fighting, y'know," chuckled from everyone, including Nathan,

"She clipped?"

"Who do you think I am? Of course," Azriel's temper flared up again at the approving nods from around him, only Nathan looked uncomfortable,

"You did it?"

"What? No, when she was young, like everyone else, but it did mean that I had to carry her here, which was a pain,"

"Still, bet you found a good one, being all powerful and shit,"

"Yeah, I'll have to go fetch her before we leave for dinner, I left her in our bedchamber, she'll want food," each word hit him in the core, even if none of it was true, the idea that this was normal to these people made him want to scream, but he guided the conversation back to the war, to what he needed to hear, even with his mind continually drifting back to Gwyn.

*****

Footsteps outside had Gwyn shoving the notebook back into her dress,

"Amirah!" She rushed to the door, keeping her eyes down in case Azriel wasn't alone, he wasn't, and someone let out a huff,

"Shit, how the fuck did you leave her all day?" One of the males beside him chuckled, "We'll see you in a bit," Azriel nodded and stepped past Gwyn into the room,

"You okay?" She mumbled, just loud enough for him to hear, and he nodded,

"I hate this, I have to pretend that I'm not hopelessly in love with you," Gwyn's stupid, faithless heart fluttered in her chest at those words, ignoring the way Azriel's eyes were dark, tired,

"Hey," she muttered, "It's okay, I know it's not true," Azriel's head snapped towards the door,

"Shit," he muttered, "They're still there, they're listening in, they won't have heard, but," Gwyn narrowed her eyes, and her eyes widened at the realization,

"They want to listen?"

"Moan, now, or they'll think something's up," he was right,

"I don't know what to do," she whispered, a feeling of true fear descending upon her, they'd gotten in, gotten embedded and he stupid, foolish fears were going to get them discovered, gods she was really useless,

"Hey, Gwyn," Azriel tipped her chin upwards, swiping his thumb across her cheek, "Just make any sound, you can't do it wrong, we don't actually need to do anything, just make them think we are,"

"But why? I don't get it,"

"They're all horny shits, and they've seen how fucking gorgeous you are. I've been away from you all day, they'll expect me to want certain things upon reuniting with you," oh, she knew what he meant, but just one day? That was surely excessive, but she nodded, and kissed him gently,

"I don't think I can just do it on command, kiss me, and then we'll see," she looped her arms around his neck, and did moan at the first brush of his lips against her neck, her head falling backwards so that Azriel had to hold her up, she moaned again, and he groaned at the feel of her lips against his, deliberately chucking his jacket aside so it made a loud thunk on the floor. Gwyn pressed her fingers against Azriel's lips, waiting, footsteps, they were really alone now,

"I'm sorry about that," Azriel muttered,

"What are you talking about? Kissing you is wonderful,"

"But I don't want you to think that you have to, even if it's for keeping our cover,"

"I didn't, it was just a chance to kiss you, and it was helpful to convince those others, but if I didn't want to I wouldn't have," she chuckled, "Are you sure you're okay?" Azriel collapsed onto the bed, dragging her with him with a yelp,

"I'm okay, just worried,"

"Worried?"

"About you. One of the males who showed me around made a comment that I didn't appreciate, and I doubt you would have done,"

"Did he seem like he wanted to act on that comment?" Gwyn stomach churned, and she glanced around the room, marking the locked door and windows. Azriel stiffened, realizing that she immediately knew what he was referring to,

"Not once I'd dealt with him, but all takes is one, I don't want you to have to deal with that, especially when I can't be with you, you might be on your own and," he took in a deep breath, "I just worry about what could happen if someone tries somehting,"

"I'm never on my own, Az," a shadow danced around her, "If I need to, I can fight with or without my dagger, and I want to find out what the other Illyrian females are doing here, there must be others,"

"There are," Azriel admitted, "They do the chores and stuff, help making and adjusting leathers and armor,"

"I can do that," Gwyn said, "It'll give me a chance to speak to them, to learn things that the males might overlook, and to simply be in the palace, invisible. I can 'get lost' and find my way to restricted areas, the queens' offices perhaps," Azriel pursed his lips together, but she was right, she knew he was, and no matter how much he wanted her to be safe, he knew that too,

"You're right, I know that, I just wish you didn't have to do it by yourself,"

"I know, but that's going to be how we have to work here, now," she twisted in his lap, "Tell me everything you found out today."

[red-riot-rat]

ＲＥＱＵＥＳＴ: me dashing to the request button 🏃🏽‍♂️. I am asking for platonic league of villains with teen reader who's joining the team and everyone like- "tHeY dOnT lOoK lIkE mUcH-" but then when they go on their first missions reader whips out some marvel black widow assassin type shit and they're like: 🧿👄🧿 

HEY HEY! GOD I FUCKING LOVE P!LOV REQUESTS GJNKFG

Ｇｅｎｒｅ：CHAOS AHHSAHASH

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: kinda gore(brief mention of blood), reader being a badass, shigaraki is crusty and unmoisturized…. Uhm, reader kills like two dudes, stabbing, me making up stuff for fighting no one @ me on that, 

𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘴: they/them

AN: is this good,,, no. a lfjhABSLKJGN

-

-

OKAY SO MR. COMPRESS BRINGS YOU IN

AND YOURE LIKE OKAY bitch.

But not really

Hes very nice to you and recognizes that even though you're young you can be good for the league, not to mention that you’ll soon all basically be family

But full ass you walk into the bar and everyone just stares because

You're a new recruit

 YOU'RE A KID

Shigaraki: Theyre a fucking kid

Mr. Compress: Uh, yeah.

N e way

All of them sit at the counter and just stare at you.

They want you to break and start talking but you're used to this

You’ve been doing this gig for most of your life

Eventually tomura will start to throw a tantrum, kinda, but then he’ll ask you questions 

He wants to scare you, he wants to be intimidating but to you,

You kinda look up to him

You answer his questions, sounding oblivious to the obvious threats he spews to you.

“Kid, you're going to end up dead NPC here, and I'll make sure of it. You still wanna join?”

“✨ yes you dumbass✨”

NO PLEASE DON'T SAY THAT

Nah for real you just say yeah.

He doesn't dislike you, but he's purposely not going to like you because he wants you to be scared of him. 

Kurogiri talks to him, they glance over at you every once and awhile 

You’ve been talking with Toga, Dabi and Mr. Compress

“So! Who are ya?”

You reluctantly explain what has happened and who you are, you know the backstory. Parents were heroes and pushed you too hard to become a hero as well,

And then you went apeshit,

The hero commissions been on your ass since you’ve been born,

You didn't want to ever be like your parents

So yay villain times

Dabi talked a little about it, agreeing with you that parents are shit, you know and then you asked him

“Who were your parents?” 

But tomura interrupted your conversation you might never know

“Much to my unwant of a side character like you, welcome kid.”

Toga pats your head

Dabi slaps you on the back

Twice messes up your hair

And Mr compress just flashes you a thumbs up

You stick with them

You grow as close as you can with Dabi, and especially close with Twice and Toga.

Although Dabi seems cold to you, he’ll never tell you but he does care a great deal for you.

Shigaraki assigns a mission to you, Dabi, and Toga 

All you have to do is get some info out of a boss that works for a small part of the hero commission

Which only fuels your anger

-

-

-

You walked side by side, to the right side of Dabi. Toga skipped on his other side, and waved her knife around. Yours was hidden underneath your hoodie, and was sheathed in a thigh rig.

“What's his name again again Dabi?” Toga sang, not caring that her voice echoed down the long hall. You glanced at the male, who looked rather annoyed.

“I don't know, it doesn't matter. We just get the info and get out.” He turned and stared at her,

“That's ALL we need.” 

She groaned and pouted to him, “You’re no fun! No fun at all.” 

Dabi grunted in response, he honestly didn’t care. 

“Hey! Who are you?” A male voice behind you caused all three of you to spin. Out of reflex you kicked the side of his knee and he toppled over. You smiled wide as you heard Dabi warn you, but you didn't care. You played your own game, you were the narrator of your own story. You didn't need anyone in your way.

You grabbed the top of his head, grasping onto his hair violently. You yanked the knife out of its holster, and twirled it between your fingers.

“Guess my hand…” 

You held it to the man's throat, and beamed at him.

“Slipped.” 

And in one quick motion, the man's body went limp as he bled onto the floor. You stood tall, and your expression blank like you didn't just kill a man.

You looked up, your eyes narrowed. You scanned through the eyes staring at you as you twirl your knife between your fingers again.

“Kid we-”

“We had a problem and I took care of it, let's move on.” your knife flips through your fingers at a fast pace, one that if you slipped it would hurt like hell.

“That was fun! Can I get his blood? Can I? Can I?” Toga asked excitedly, turning her head rapidly to Tomura then to you.

“Have at it.” You spun your knife one last time, and handed it to her. She seemed taken back, like she didn't expect you to comply.

“Yay!” she took the knife eagerly, and you turned away from her before anything went down. As you turned you were faced with a pair of turquoise eyes staring daggers at you.

“Kid, that was fucking dangerous. We could’ve handled that.” Dabi was frustrated, but he didnt know why. Yeah, he could have handled that but seeing you put yourself in danger like that made him upset.

“Yeah I know that okay? That's what its fucking about. That dude works with the hero commission, I’m not letting him stand.” Your brows furrowed as you talked and Dabi rolled his eyes. 

“Don't treat me like I’m five. I know I don't look like it, but I’ve done this for a long time.” you shoved your hands into the pocket of your hoodie and kept walking.

“You’re either a pawn, or a player.”

Toga smiled wide and skipped up to you.

“That was cool! Dabi’s just a party pooper!” She glanced over her shoulder and stuck her tongue out at the male.

He rolled his eyes once again, and continued to walk behind your duo.

Eventually, after minutes of silence you found the main office, that held the boss. 

Well, a mini boss.

-

A funnel of smoke fogged the hallway as you ran.

“Kid! Wait up!” Dabi’s raspy voice rang through the long hall and you spun on your heels to face him.

He walked towards you, Toga smiling wide at his side, blood smeared across her face. The sound of footsteps came from both sides of you, and you glanced over your shoulder to the other side of the hall.

A man's figure ran closer to you by the second, he moved fast, too fast for you to see his face.

Too fast you didn't have time to react when he punched you straight in the face. You fell back, holding a hand to your nose that began to bleed. 

“KID!” Dabi’s flames erupted from his hands and Toga’s knife made its way back into her hand.

Your brows furrowed and you jumped up as you unsheathed your knife. The figure in front of you threw another punch, but you ducked causing him to stagger forwards. You slammed him into the wall and flipped your knife in your hand. 

You drew your arm back, and brought it into his chest quickly stabbing him right between the ribs. He yelped in pain and held his hands against your shoulders.

Blood stained his blue button up shirt and it leaked onto the floor. 

“Guess nothing lasts forever huh?” Your boot rested on his leg, and you pushed back removing your knife from his abdomen. 

Immediately, an arm wrapped around your neck locking you into place. 

Dabi began to run to you, the blue flame escaping his hands once again , and Toga flipped her knife in her hands as she stalked over to you.

You struggled, gasping for air against the figure, and with your best ability elbowed him in his chest. He groaned but kept you in place, until you swept his right foot and pushed him into the opposite wall. 

“Everyone here is fucking annoying.” You took a step back and glanced at the figure struggling, leaning against the wall. You pushed a hand out and stopped Dabi and Toga from coming closer, and smiled wide at them with your eyes narrow.

“Did you know you're lifes a game?” You asked the man, his eyes wide, his breathing heavy and staggered. 

You threw the knife into the air and as it spun the male watched it. You caught it in your right hand, and wasted no time to throw it at the figure. 

It lodged right into absodemn and he toppled over.

“Can we go home? This is kinda boring.” You groaned at Dabi, who stared at you with wide eyes. Toga begged for the knife while jumping up and down and you compiled once again.

“You’re a fucking madman.”

[thetriggeredhappy]

Consider: the scene in the comics where Scout dies, but instead it's Spy who's dying and he actually has the balls to tell Scout the truth face-to-face before it's too late.

consider: this shit is gonna break your heart, anon. dad!spy hours

(warnings for canon-typical violence, extreme character injury, major character death)

-

Just his luck that he’d find himself alone with so many of those ridiculous robots and with his knee so destroyed. He at least managed to take down the one that finally got him.

These tin cans didn’t even know enough to understand how to efficiently kill someone, he seethed. He’d certainly be bleeding out shortly—he was fairly sure he had a punctured lung, among other things, but the blood loss would probably be what did him in—but god, it was taking forever.

He could take some solace in that he at least didn’t drag Sniper to die along with him, had sent him to try and pick off as many bots as he could from the windows. And... well, he was fairly sure he’d been as useful as he could have been in this fight. Helped kill one of the Classic team—two, if you counted throttling his own counterpart—and done some good recon work besides. This wasn’t the most poetic or heroic death, but he wasn’t a fan of poetry and had never considered himself much of a hero, so that was probably fair.

But that stupid robot had ruined his jacket, which he was pretty annoyed about. Not like it would matter in the long run, but frustrating regardless.

God, it was cold.

He lifted his head when he heard the sound of rapid footfalls echoing down the hall, growing closer. Hey, maybe he could trick some robot into finishing him off, at least. Save himself some time and excruciating pain. He would’ve gone for the cyanide tooth, but unfortunately, this was the one situation where he’d jumped for that option a little bit too early. Just his luck.

(God, it was cold.)

Oh, well. Bludgeoned to death by a Scoutbot at least promised to be relatively quick. They tended to go for the head.

He looked up to at least give a snide remark to his more rapidly-approaching death, only for them to get stuck in his throat as the death in question rounded the corner and made eye contact with him.

“Holy shit, Spy?” Scout asked, looking startled and a little out of breath.

“Merde,” Spy mumbled, and was a little caught off guard by how hoarse his voice was.

In a second Scout had taken a knee next to him and was surveying the damage, mouth running at a mile a minute. “Holy shit we were lookin’ everywhere, Sniper showed up because I guess he was dead but now he’s better apparently and he said you two split off for some reason but you’d been fuckin’ kneecapped and—dude, you look like shit, what happened?”

“What does it look like?” Spy asked dryly.

“I mean, I don’t wanna give you an ‘I told you so’ or nothin’ but this is kinda what you get for disappearing and running off on your own all the time,” Scout pointed out.

He almost couldn’t feel the tiny ache of guilt that put in his chest underneath all the other much more life-threatening aches that were also in his chest. “Well, I’d say I’ve learned my lesson, but I think unfortunately I won’t be able to demonstrate any time soon,” Spy replied, and yeah, there was a puncture to his lung. He had to fight hard to hold down a cough, and only because he knew it would sound extremely pathetic.

“Okay, uh—can you move? Okay, you can’t move,” Scout seemed to decide. “Uh, okay, okay so I’ll uh—so I’m gonna go get Medic, and—he’s fast too we should be able to get back here in like ten minutes flat, easy! Just, I guess try and hold your guts in, I’ll be right back with help!”

Considering the amount of injured Medic was likely to be, he very much doubted Scout would be back with Medic in only ten minutes. And considering the way that his vision was swimming and how distorted Scout’s face got towards the tail end of that last sentence, he doubted he would make it ten minutes anyways.

And he found unexpected panic suddenly rising up in his chest at the thought of dying alone, here in a hallway surrounded by broken mechanical parts and acrid smoke. He forced himself into motion despite the way it made the entire room suddenly seem to careen to the left, and managed to catch Scout by the leg of his ridiculous trousers before he could take off again. “Wait,” he croaked. “Wait.”

“I, no, I gotta go get Medic, I’ll take like ten seconds—“ Scout was quick to assure, so quick that Spy realized he was legitimately worried.

“I’ll—“ Spy started, and paused to clear his throat just to give himself enough time to think of an excuse to have Scout stick around for a minute. “I’ll be fine to wait a little longer, but first I had something important to say.”

Scout frowned. “Yeah?”

And he did. He absolutely did. The problem was that this excuse was... hm.

The problem was that this was something he’d been putting off. The larger part of the situation for about 20 years, and then more directly for about six. And Spy thought that surely he would work up the courage to get to it over the course of their employment, only for it to be unexpectedly terminated, and he decided, well, that was that. He would just have to live with it. But then they got arrested and the thought that surely he would get to it over the course of their time in prison, and once again he didn’t, couldn’t seem to force himself into that conversation, not when he was trapped, not when he couldn’t run from whatever outcome ended up happening.

And now he was dying. And for all he knew, Scout was going to die shortly as well. And in most of the ways that mattered, Spy was the only person who could really answer this question, because apparently Scout’s mother had committed to the lie he’d asked her to tell, had continued to stay headstrong on helping to cover up how he’d faked his death. And how was she to know he was really dead, surely Scout would never bring it up—

If he didn’t tell Scout now, Scout would never know.

Scout would go the rest of his life never getting answers about his father.

“Merde,” he mumbled again, slumping back against the wall and squeezing his eyes shut against the way the world was spinning, feeling motion sick.

He heard Scout take a knee again, and after a second he hesitantly prompted him. “Uh, what? What is it? What’s up?” he asked carefully.

Spy forced himself to open his eyes, and was a little startled by how difficult it was. He focused hard on one of his own shoes, trying his best to make the world stop spinning so fast. He swallowed hard to try and clear his throat, steady his voice. It almost worked. “This is very important,” he started with, and forced sharpness into his tone. “So I will not be needing any of your little jokes and quips and interruptions.”

“Y... yeah, okay,” Scout said, and the worry was extremely easy to read on his face, and Spy kind of hated that.

Spy considered his words. “You’ve mentioned before that you never knew your father,” he decided to open with. Scout immediately began to frown. “And... and I never said anything. Even though that was a very brave thing to bring up.”

Scout opened his mouth to reply before remembering himself and shutting it again.

“And I wanted to apologize,” Spy managed to choke, and he kept track of Scout’s expressions in his periphery, finding it easier to hold on to that way than by trying to look at him directly. “Because you’re never going to get the chance to know your father, not really. Not in the way you deserve, and it’s my fault.“

“Spy, what the fuck does that even mean?” Scout demanded, and maybe the anger starting to flood into his voice was fair. “You—what did you do?”

“You deserved to have a father,” Spy said, and it couldn’t have been more obvious that he was dodging the question, but maybe he wanted to be obvious, just for a minute. “A good one, who did all sorts of ridiculous fatherly things for you. And it’s not your fault that you didn’t. You deserved to. You did.”

God, it was cold.

“And he should have been there for you, and for your family,” Spy continued, and felt his stomach lurch unexpectedly, and had to shut his jaw tight for a moment, tight enough to feel his fake teeth aching. “And he should have supported them and been a good father, and your life should have been made much more easy than it was, and you should not have needed to get in fights and become a criminal in the first place, and you should never have needed to sign up to become a murderer in some terrible desert in New Mexico among a pack of assassins and madmen.”

“Spy, I, I should get Medic—“ Scout tried to cut in, moved as if to stand back up. Spy snared a hand in the front of Scout’s shirt, and though he knew full well that he wasn’t strong enough to actually stop Scout in any capacity, he froze up anyways.

“And—and I know that you deserved a real father, and I knew that,” Spy said, “and I know there is no excuse that can ever be given. There is nothing that I can ever say to make it up to you, or to your mother, or your brothers, nothing. And I should have been there but I was scared and I was convinced I was being hunted and I cared too much about all of you to let that happen because of me, and it was selfish—“

“Spy,” Scout said, and it took all the strength that Spy had just to look at him, and there were a lot of emotions on his face just then. He saw realization, for one. Shock, astonishment maybe.

And for the first time in maybe his entire life, Spy decided that he just needed to be honest. 

“I’m your father, Jeremy,” Spy croaked.

Silence. Long, long silence. In the far distance, gunshots and explosions and yelling, soft enough that he couldn’t be sure it wasn’t his imagination.

“You gonna try and say some kind of cool line, now, too?” Scout asked, and his voice was sharp enough to sting, and Spy winced at it. “Some kind of bullshit about how it, it was for my own good? Or that it’s—that you always cared from far away or some shit, that it was better this way? Gonna ask me to fuckin’ forgive you, here on your deathbed?”

“No, I am not,” Spy replied, voice faint. “I know there is nothing I can say to make it up to you. Words are insufficient.” He breathed deeply and forced down the instinct that was telling him to cough. “But I would rather not leave you wondering forever. I thought... this was better than nothing.”

Scout made a noncommittal noise. Silence.

“I get the distinct impression that you are angry with me,” Spy managed.

“Duh, I’m mad at you. Jesus fuck, you have no clue how mad I am at you. But I’m not...” Scout paused to think over his words. “I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at... old you. The you who ran off. And... I dunno. Kinda seems like you hate that guy too.”

“Very much,” Spy confirmed.

“Yeah. I dunno. I guess... I dunno.” Scout paused for a long moment. “And... maybe this is better than nothing, I guess. Because... it’s not the same or nothin’, but... I dunno. At least I know now. And... at least I know what my dad’s like now. That’s something.” 

Silence. Spy managed a nod, but not words.

When Scout spoke again, his voice was uncharacteristically level. “You’re gonna die here, aren’t’cha, Spy?”

“Oui. I have no doubt in my mind,” Spy sighed, so quietly that he wasn’t sure Scout could hear it.

Scout was quiet for a minute. He moved to pull Spy’s hand off of his shirt (not that it was difficult), and for one terrifying moment Spy thought he was about to just drop Spy’s hand and stand up and leave him to rot in some hallway on an uncharted island where he would never be found. His vision was darkening rapidly, and he didn’t think he had the strength to try and stop him again, or that it would even work.

But instead Scout clasped Spy’s hand in his own and held it tight to his chest, squeezing Spy’s shoulder beneath his hand. “Run hell, asshole,” Scout said with the slightest of smiles, and it was so like Scout to be joking just then, to be trying to comfort him just then even if it was in his own way, to find the most indirect, roundabout method of letting Spy know that things were okay. And it made Spy laugh, and laughing was the last thing that Spy remembered.

-

He saw the last of the color drain from Spy’s face, the way the muscles there slowly went slack, and after a long moment he moved the hand from Spy’s shoulder to check for a pulse. He shifted to try again three times, not positive he was doing it right, before realizing, no. He was definitely doing this right. Spy was dead.

He let his own hand drop, then carefully laid down Spy’s.

Man. Twenty-seven fuckin’ years, and he finally finds his dad, and it’s Spy. He shouldn’t have been surprised that Spy would find a way to escape that kind of conversation and never look back, but he was a little surprised that his solution was apparently dying.

...

That wasn’t that funny.

Scout leaned back, scrubbed at his face with his hand, forcing himself to take a few deep breaths. Conflicted emotions. Conflicted thoughts.

Jesus, he should’ve seen it. That dumb dream he’d had back at Heavy’s house when he’d almost died, the stupid jokes Spy kept making about his Ma and the suspicious amount of information Spy had about him, way more than was probably on any official record. And the weird shit Heavy had been saying to him, and all the times Spy stuck his neck out for him when he really didn’t have to—

He didn’t think it was obvious enough for him to guess, but it was definitely obvious enough to suspect.

...So being an asshole ran in the family, huh?

He sat back on his heels.

...His Ma always said they had similar eyebrows. And their eyes in general, apparently. Ears. The mask made it kinda hard to tell.

The mask.

For a few seconds, Scout really genuinely considered taking the mask off.

This was his dad. Ma apparently lost the few pictures she had of him years ago, and this was his only chance. If he didn’t look now, he’d never really know what his dad looked like. Not in a real way. And didn’t he deserve to know? Hadn’t he earned this?

But he couldn’t, and he knew he couldn’t. That was a kind of disrespect he couldn’t stoop to, not even to a dead guy.

He didn’t know why, but he felt himself tearing up.

If he made it out of this alive, he made a promise to himself. He was gonna talk to Miss P—those two were friends, right?—and he was gonna find out more about Spy. He’d hire a private eye if he had to, he’d spend every penny of his Tom Jones money figuring out everything he could. Spy hadn’t given him a lot to work with, but it was something. It was enough.

He wiped his eyes, rocked forward to stand, shook himself. For a second he thought about getting Medic, seeing if he could work his magic, but he’d only seen Sniper for a minute, only long enough for him to say that coming back to life was a one-time deal. He took a deep breath and turned, starting to walk down the hallway. Running off felt wrong just then.

Maybe God was looking out for him, just then, because that meant he hadn’t turned the corner down the hall, which meant he heard the feeble little cough behind him and could turn around, could see that Spy had a hand lifted.

A pause to process.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Scout scathed in the angriest voice he could manage, even as he felt tears leap into his eyes.

[thebadboyfanclub]

Let Me Do Better (Edward Cullen x Reader)

this was requested by @actyourownfandom-23​  I had to switch it up a bit since i really could not figure out for the life of me how to write something like that but I hope you enjoy.

(y/n) was devastated, how could he? after all those promises, all that time they spent together, everything they went through he just decided to leave her after a little bump on the road, they had been through much worse than the party incident. 

(Y/n) felt empty,broken, confused as someone would say, the worst one was the betrayal she felt. As the months past her pain turned to anger, she felt like he had no right to leave like that, she felt like he did it out of a selfish act, it was never about her he just wanted to leave and just found an excuse to do it. 

She felt the need to change, do something to switch up her life, shake things up a bit, shed the old (y/n) and go through new experiences and who knows maybe even forget him, for now however she just needed a distraction from all the things that happened. 

She started with her hair, people always complimented her facial bone structure so when she walked in the school with a nice long bob students could not help but stare at her, then a few new clothes, put some more color in her closet. She got tired of the little earth and dark tones

The final part, her body. She needed to do something to improve herself as a whole but also let loose and put all her feelings to it, what better way to do it than punch the hell out of someone. Kick boxing classes were starting at the only gym Forks had and she was one of the first to sign up.

“I’m not going to lie when I saw you I thought you would give up on the first week”

“When did you change your mind?”

“When you broke your nose and kept going with the match”

Her instructor was a man in his mid 30s, he was a kick boxing pro but after a serious injury he couldn’t train like he used to, so he came back to his hometown to teach classes.

“A high school break up can do wonders”

“Is that what pushed you?”

“Yeap, left with his whole family a day after my birthday”

“Ouch, that must have hurt”

“Anyway, let’s go do this shit”

(y/n) had just started competing against others in official matches and people had to admit she was actually good. Nobody expected this type of 360 turn to her entire lifestyle when Edward left, Edward didn’t even expect it and when Alice told him that she saw her getting punched and kicked and had a bloody nose he got sick to his stomach, all kinds of scenarios coming through his head.

So he came back to see how is she, checked in to the hospital but was surprised when he was told that there was no one with serious injuries with her name. He stayed a few days to gather some information and you can guess how shocked he was when he saw her enter a gym with her boxing gloves tied on her big back and her now much shorter hair up in a ponytail.

He was sitting in the back of the room, watching her so intensely that if looks could kill (y/n) would have been already dead. He didn’t know what to make of this, should he be happy about her moving on with her life as he told her to? Or sad (y/n) became violent and found interest in hurting people? 

He watched as she kicked and punched and threw around her opponent, as well as getting kicked and punched herself, her nose was bleeding and she was sweating profusely, but she still kept going until she came out a winner. Yet again he didn’t know how to feel about her win. He approached the lockers he was told she was in and was met with what he assumed to be her trainer waiting outside.

“Sorry man you can’t go in”

“I’m her friend”

“Of course you are, but since she won I will play along. Tell me your name and i’ll tell her you are here”

“Edward Cullen”

“Alright, wait here”

As the trainer knocked and walked in Edward was for once happy he had the powers he had, including supernatural hearing and reading thoughts.

“Hey there is this dude outside asking for you. His name is Edward”

“As in.. Edward cullen?”

“Yeah”

That’s when he wished he couldn’t hear her thoughts, he was met with anger, curse words, panic and everything in between those feelings.

“Tell him to come in”

As he entered the room and was left with her he was stunned. She had changed so much, her body was now much more athletic, her muscles defined and she looked strong and capable to conquer everyone and everything, her hair short and a different color, something she had never mentioned she wanted to do. What hurt him the most was her facial expression, harsh, cold and unfriendly. She had her guard up

“What do you want here?”

“I know I shouldn’t be here”

“Then go”

Ouch, that was like a straight stab in the heart for him. He should have known the damage he had caused, still he expected to just be welcomed in with open arms? how foolish and selfish of him to think it would be that easy

“Alice saw a vision of you getting punched-”

“Yeah it’s something that happens in boxing”

She cut him off with a sarcastic reply. She turned her back to him and let her hair loose from the ponytail she had them in, she felt her hands shaking as well as her knees. She never thought in a million years that she would see him again, especially now that she was finally doing well with her life.

“(Y/n) I know I hurt you”

“No you don’t Edward, well maybe you did but you didn’t care to think about it, so what do you want from me now?”

“I came here to talk to you”

“About what? About how you left us? how you put yourself first?”

“I wanted to keep you safe”

“Safe? I almost died in the first few months we dated, you put your family first and that’s fine, totally fine just don’t lie to me about how my safety was first”

He saw the pain, the tears building up in her eyes threatening to spill and it was eating him alive. He didn’t know how to act, what could possibly make it better. He took one step towards her, opened his arms to go and hug her

“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE”

she screamed, stopping him as fast as she could. Then, she just collapsed, flopped in her chair in front of her face and started to cry, her whole body shaking. Edward took the chance to approach her, kneeling in front of her and placing his hand on her knee.

“I’m sorry, that’s all I can say now. Please (y/n) I never wanted to harm you”

“It doesn’t matter what you wanted, it’s what you did”

“I can do better, I beg of you (y/n) let me do better”

[shining-red-diamond]

One Little Coyote

Words: 2k

Pairing:  Hyunjin x Reader

Genre: Fluff, some angst

Rating: PG

Warnings: nightmare scene, some arguing, mentions of cigarettes and smoking

A/N; I’m super proud of how this turned out! I’m sorry if it seems rushed, but I thought this was a cute and interesting concept. Banner credits to @oobin​

If the morning sun wasn’t hot enough, then the afternoon sun certainly was. Heat waves could easily be seen rising up from the dark pavement the gray Subaru traveled on. Hyunjin carefully drove himself and Y/N across the desert, even though it was mostly barren despite the occasional car that passed them in the opposite direction. The two had been on the road since eight, and it was now nearing twelve-thirty as Y/N’s stomach began to rumble.

“Are you that hungry?” Hyunjin giggled.

“Hey, you’re the one who insisted on just having granola bars instead of eggs like I suggested,” Y/N shot back.

“I know, I should’ve set the alarm for earlier.” Hyunjin rolled his eyes behind his round, dark-lense sunglasses.

Y/N sighed. “No, I should’ve just grabbed an apple.”

“Baby, we’re almost to a gas station. We’ll stop there and grab a bite to eat.”

For whatever reason, the two seemed to be arguing about something with every other conversation they had since waking up that morning. Was it because one of them slept bad? Did Hyunjin get irritated at her for some reason? Or was Y/N just hangry? They hated fighting with each other, but they couldn’t seem to get along for the first leg of their journey. The heat could be a factor in both of them butting heads, but the air was on full blast.

Y/N stared down at her twiddling her thumbs as the song changed to an old AC/DC tune, and Hyunjin glanced over at her. He felt bad for using a sharp tone at her. For months, the two had been planning a road trip from the Grand Canyon to Las Vegas; but he felt terrible for being in such a crabby mood.

Taking her hand, he laced his fingers through hers and kissed the back of it.

“Why the sudden change in behavior?” she asked with a raised brow.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized as they pulled into the gas station.

“Can we talk about this later? I just want to get some food before my stomach starts speaking in tongues.”

Before Hyunjin could respond, Y/N was already out of the car and beelined for the restaurant in the convenience store.

The gas station had only three other vehicles parked there: a motorcycle on the side of the building, a beat up brown truck at a pump, and a dark minivan at another. Heat from the sun was beating down in the surrounding area, but Hyunjin was protected under some shade at the gas pump he paid at. A snake slithered by, but it didn’t bother him. A rugged looking man exited the building and pulled a brand new pack of cigarettes and lit one up before entering the truck and pulling out, but not before giving Hyunjin a nod of acknowledgement.

When the tank was filled, Hyunjin took his receipt, parked in another spot, and locked the car before meeting his girlfriend inside. Y/N was sitting in a gray booth with an order of two burgers and large fries with two large drinks. She hadn’t touched any of the food on the tray, which she always did when she paid for food if she were traveling with anyone. Hyunjin was about to open his mouth to protest how he should have been the one to purchase the food, but he was done arguing with the love of his life.

“This looks delicious, baby,” he smiled and kissed her head before sitting in the seat across from her.

“I made sure to not get pickles in yours,” she replied.

“You know me too well.”

Once Hyunjin tied his long hair back, he and Y/N began their lunch; and she was thankful they didn’t fight while they filled their bellies with a meal.

“Just think,” Hyunjin smiled slyly, “by tomorrow afternoon we’ll be entering Vegas. The desert and heat will be a distant memory as we feast on delicious food, swim in an indoor pool, and get cozy.”

Y/N chuckled at his attempt at being smooth with his words, which in turn caused him to laugh as well.

“We can’t forget seeing all of the cool shows and counting the slot machines in each casino,” she added. “But I’m happy to just be with you for a few days, even if we don’t get to party like millionaires.”

Hyunjin scoffed. “Who needs wealth when I’m already a rich man just having the most beautiful woman in the world with me?”

“You’re cheesy, dude; but I like cheese.”

“I know,” her boyfriend replied with a wink.

As soon as they finished their meal, the two were back on the road, the surrounding desert brightened more by the afternoon sun. For about two hours, the two drive in mostly silence. The only noises around them were the radio, which would go static in some areas, and the wind outside. A few animals passed by in the sand and among the vegetation, but it was mostly snakes and rabbits.

“Babe,” Hyunjin said after a while, “about me apologizing earlier, I didn’t sleep well last night and woke up this morning in a bad mood. I hate fighting with you, and I was trying to make it up to you.”

He couldn’t exactly look at her as he was driving, but he could see out of the corner of his eye she was half smiling as he spoke.

“I’m sorry, too,” she lightly sighed. “I shouldn’t have snapped back at you. I didn’t know.”

“It’s not your fault. The bed at the motel was too uncomfortable.”

“Hopefully, the hotel bed is much better.”

“It’s Vegas! It has to be.”

A truce was formed during their own little comedy hour, and Hyunjin was happy he was able to make it all up with his girl. Like most couples, they had their arguments some days, but Hyunjin could never stay angry with Y/N, nor could she with him. The last thing either of them wanted to do was hurt the other person, and they both knew words were impactful. Only once had they insulted each other where it hurt the most that they wouldn’t speak to each other for a week until they both cooled off and talked it over.

“I wonder where the coyotes are,” Y/N spoke up as she looked out the window.

“They’re out there,” her boyfriend replied as he glanced around the sandy plains. “We won’t be going anywhere near them, but we’re approaching a bunch of rock formations and hills in a while.”

“Maybe we’ll hear them when we camp.”

“Maybe.”

“And that one little coyote howling at the moon,” Y/N sang with a giggle.

As if on cue, the radio song switched to the exact song. It was a genie wishing her song request.

“Fitting.”

-

The night air was too quiet for Y/N, except for the coyote’s howling at the full moon every couple of seconds. Moonlight illuminated the inside of the car, and she couldn’t fall back asleep anymore. The windows were still cracked open a little to allow air to circulate, but there was no wind blowing. Y/N hated how silent it was, and the coyote’s weren’t exactly singing lullabies to her. Sitting up, she looked over to where Hyunjin was, but he was gone. His blanket remained there, but the man himself had vanished.

Maybe he just had to go pee somewhere, she thought. However, the closest gas station was miles behind them. There was no way he would have walked that far just for a bathroom with a way to protect himself. The possibility of him just finding a small bush to do his business seemed logical, and since it was dark out, anyone who passed by probably wouldn’t see him.

Against her better judgement, Y/N decided to step out and see if her boyfriend was okay. Climbing over the seats, she reached one of the passenger doors and unlocked it. Once she stumbled out of the car, she shut the door and made her way to the back. The little fire pit used to cook their hot dogs was missing, and there was no sign that anyone had made a stop there. Nothing but dry mud and weeds. The air was also freezing, but Y/N didn’t want to go back to the car until her boyfriend was found.

“Hyunjin?” Y/N called in a whisper. No answer. She called for him across the other side of the main road, but still no reply.

“Babe, this isn’t funny!” she called as she turned around to see if he was messing with her.

To her horror, the Subaru was now gone. She didn’t hear the engine turn on, no tire tracks were left, nothing. It was as if it vanished into thin air. Turning back again, the road was gone too. What was going on?

Coyote howls grew louder, and Y/N was starting to panic. Small feet scampered by her, but not a humans’ footsteps. She pulled out her phone light and looked down. A row of jack rabbits were racing by her towards the rock formations, so she decided to follow them to try to find help. She took about six steps before a branch seemingly wrapped around her ankle and tripped her, cutting into the flesh.

“Don’t panic,” YN told herself. “It’s just a bush. You can get out of this.”

However, once she sat up, whatever was holding her had let go and disappeared. It left behind her ankle bleeding, but she had no means of treating it. She could still walk on it, so she kept going.

A few snakes, poisonous ones, slithered by, hissing at her as she walked. It was as if they were threatening her to turn back or else they’ll attack and sink their venomous fangs into her.

“As I rode my pony across the Western plain,” she sang sobbed, not realizing she had been crying. “We stopped and heard a sweet and sad refrain. It filled the sundown skies with a lonesome tune. It was one little coyote howling at the moon.”

RIght at that moment, howling broke the eerie silence from behind her. When Y/N turned around, two red glowing eyes were staring at her. It was a terrible, hungry look, and a deep throaty growl sent shivers down her back. Before she could even blink, teeth flashed in front of her as if the creature attempted to eat her face off.

Y/N screamed as she felt her life ending right there.

“Baby, wake up!” a familiar voice cried out.

Opening her eyes, Y/N realized she was back in the car but in a cold sweat. It was somewhat dark out, but the sky was just barely rising by the deep purple sky fading into pink.

“Jinnie!” Y/N sobbed as she pulled her boyfriend in for a hug.

“What happened?”

Once she caught her breath, she realized everything she had seen and experienced was all a nightmare.

“Bad dream?” Hyunjin guessed as dried her head with a blanket.

“Yeah,” she sighed. She explained everything in detail to him, even checking her ankle for the injury she had sustained. To her relief, there was no cut.

“I’m so sorry you had such an awful nightmare,” Hyunjin kissed her forehead. “I forget how you have bad nightmares one the first night of a camping trip.”

“I’ll be okay,” Y/N promised. “What time is it?”

Hyunjin looked through the suitcases for some fresh clothes. “6:30 in the morning. I was awake because I got too hot in here. It wasn’t long before you screamed awake.”

“I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“No, no. Don’t be sorry. It was only a dream.”

After tying his hair up to keep himself cool, Hyunjin brought Y/N closer to him and cuddled her for a while. Whenever she had a bad dream, it always comforted her to be held or snuggled until she calmed down. His heartbeat was the main composer of her calming, and she loved how warm he felt when he embraced her.

In the distance, a coyote howled.

“He won’t hurt you, my love,” Hyunjin reassured as he held Y/N tighter. “It’s just one little coyote.”

-

@hongism​ @ethereal-eirene​ @ezralia-writes​

[an1xcy]

Got Nobody Cuz’ I’m Braindead

alksjdjkasdkasd please dude i spedran this Title - Pork Soda by Glass Animals @jackstanifold this is for you <3 /p

TW: Nailbiting, Mentions of blood/little bit of bleeding, KarlNapIty

It was all different. Everything had changed. They’d promised to stay together, they promised they would! Karl had believed them, he’d believed them and waited for years upon years for everything to go back to normal. It never did. Now Dream was in prison, George was never around, Quackity was always ‘busy,’ and Sapnap- god- Sapnap. Karl watched Sapnap as his fiance cooked dinner, humming a tune that should’ve been cheerful but it sounded sad, defeated, broken. Karl exhaled quietly, he felt like a ghost, a pale figure that nobody noticed or saw. He was a watcher, an observer, spectating time with a gentle curiosity but he’d be lying if he said he enjoyed it. Sometimes he didn’t feel real. Sometimes he’d spend so long watching in silence that he couldn’t remember the words that used to oh-so-easily grace his lips. That’s how he felt now. In the timeline that was supposed to be his, where his lovers were finally with him. They hadn’t died. They weren’t supposed to, at least not yet. Karl hadn’t seen this coming, he hadn’t expected to feel this way. Usually he took things with a calm demeanor, almost disinterested. Except this time it hurt. He didn’t know what he’d cherished, what he’d held onto, would fall apart in his hands. Now it was just him, collapsed on the dining room floor, he hadn’t registered falling. His nervous system didn’t even register the pain. He’d snatched off his patchwork hoodie at some point. In the dimly lit dining room, he rummaged in his pockets for the needle and thread he kept on himself. Blinded by a sudden rage he located every single patch he’d sewn in for Dream or that Dream had sewn in herself. That smiley bastard. This was his fault. She’d torn them apart, she’d made George leave, they’d beaten down Sapnap, he’d changed Quackity, he’d shattered Karl. After each patch was torn out, Karl stared at the worn edges of the green fabric, sorrow swiftly drowned out the rage leaving his eyes watery and burning. Karl didn’t bother wiping his eyes as tears streamed down his cheeks and onto the squares of plain gray fabric he was sewing in. Karl was careless with the needle, it felt clumsy and unnatural in his grip, pricking his fingers every few loops. Beads of blood welled at his fingertips, leaving small circular stains on the carefully cultivated hoodie. If Karl had heard a creak behind him in the doorway, he paid it no mind. ... Karl was fading. At least that’s what it felt like. Sitting on the couch in the living room, so light the cushions barely shifted, he couldn’t help but wonder, was he real? His life could’ve all been an intricate fantasy that he’d invented to keep himself sane. He lifted his fingers to his lips, teeth reaching for a nail that it never found. He glanced down at his fingers, the nails chewed down to the point where the beds of his nails were on display. He let out a humorless chuckle, biting down anyway, just to feel something, to make sure he was still there. There was a metallic taste in his mouth, he recognized it instantly having seen and tasted it one to many times, blood. Karl sighed, pulling his fingers away from his mouth in favor is setting them in his lap. He moved his gaze to the wall in front of him, staring blankly as his fingertips slowly welled blood. The door opened behind him, but again, it's not like anyone could see him. He might as well sit and rot. … Karl stumbled towards the door of their small mushroom home. He meant Quackity and Sapnap’s home. It was hardly his. He was sure that he was invisible, another spectator to a play that he had to role in. God if he didn’t want to have a part though. He swung open the door, his body flinching at the slam but his mind barely registering it. That’s when he heard it. “Babe?” Sapnap called distantly from the kitchen. Karl slunk into the kitchen, standing behind Sapnap for a moment before carefully wrapping his arms around the taller’s middle. He was almost surprised his arms didn’t go through, but his mind was more preoccupied with Sapnap’s reaction. Sapnap’s reaction? “Karl?” Sapnap carefully set his spoon down. “Hey, are you alright?” Karl didn’t believe it, he couldn’t, he wasn’t real. He was sure of it. Sapnap didn’t know he was here. “Love,” Sapnap turned, carefully running his hands through Karl’s wavy hair, “can you talk to me?” Karl couldn’t breathe, he buried his face into Sapnap’s chest. The moment he opened his mouth, a sob escaped him, the force wracking his already shaking body. Sapnap was silent for a few moments before he gently kissed Karl’s forehead. “It’s okay, I understand. I see you.” That’s what got Karl, what broke the dam, he crumpled, he wanted to scream. Sapnap caught him, supporting his weight with ease. Karl looked up at Sapnap, opening his mouth to speak, to say something, anything. But he couldn’t, his throat closed and his tongue was limp in his mouth. It was familiar and unfamiliar all at once, he still panicked, bringing one hand to his throat and trying again. Sapnap’s eyes widened for a split second, but it was gone as fast as it came. He carefully sunk them down to the floor, removing Karl’s hand from his throat. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I understand.” He hushed, idly massaging Karl’s tensed shoulders. Karl whimpered, reluctantly relaxing against Sapnap. Maybe he could rest here, for just a moment. … Karl heard him before he saw him. Quackity had always been loud, it was just in his nature. Even when he was trying so desperately to be quiet. Karl cracked his eyes open, catching his fiance’s figure slowly picking his way away. Karl shot up, grabbing Quackity’s hand in a shaky grip. “Karl?” Quackity whispered, turning to face the brunette. “What’s up?” Karl tried to convey what he could with his eyes, and for good measure, scooted over on the bed. “You want me to stay?” Quackity questioned, like it wasn’t obvious. Karl nodded, tugging Quackity over with as much force as he could in his state. Quackity carefully settled on the bed, scooting closer and wrapping one arm around Karl, the other reaching for Sapnap, who intertwined their fingers happily. Maybe they’d be okay.

[chandelier-s-notebook]

Doodlewash April 2021 prompt 20: Roses

Songfic using Black Roses by Aviators.

The color black has often been synonymous with death and mourning and is usually used at funerals. But black roses do have a more positive meaning as well. They can stand for the beginning of new things and major change.

Reminder 93-10-01 = Tommy 83-11-03 = Hannahxxrose 93-08-02 = CupToast/Crumb 66-16-01 = Plushys 09-10-01 = Purpled

If anyone wants to be part of a taglist of the Vigilante AU, feel free to message me/send an ask/or mention it in reblogs.

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

We are husks

Plushys had been trapped in the warehouse on 1889 Coral Lane, not that she knew where she was, for eight months now. When she was taken it no one took her nail file off of her person. She hid it in her hair when she was forced to change into the warehouse uniform.

She got two meals a day, and she started a tally on the wall. At every other meal, another tally was put on the wall with her nail file.

But the tallies were very much racking up. She was tried. She wanted to go home.

After five months she was given a cellmate; 83-11-03, Hannah Rose. Hannah was a street rat. She grew up fighting for her place in the world. She clawed her way to get what she had; only for it to be ripped away by a group of men and a white van.

After Plushys made her new tally on Hannah’s first day she offered the girl the nail file. Hannah made her first mark, and settled in for the long run.

Plushys and Hannah were placed in the same fighting ability category. They’ve been pitted against each other a few times.

The people in charge of the fighting ring have a few wants. They make money by keeping the bettors as patrons. And the way to do that is to have a suspenseful fight. Plushys and Hannah deliver on the wants of the criminals.

Hannah was a street rat. Plushys was the twin sister of a vigilante. They knew how to fight. They knew how to make an event.

They had learned how to riff off each other. They could fight to the brink of the end only to comeback down in a way that was satisfying for the audience and kept up the suspense. They did this for a few reasons: one, they didn’t want to hurt each other; two, they needed to keep the criminals happy; three, the longer they went on for, the more time the other kids could rest up and get in the mindset; and four, it was a little fun when neither party cared too much.

“66-16-01 v. 83-11-03!”

Plushys caught 5up’s eye in the crown. “Please get us out of here,” her eyes begged.

Hannah threw the first punch. She was so ready to get out of here.

Alive but barely breathing

Crumb was not okay. She just wasn’t. She may have been born in District 93 but she was privileged by their standards. She had a loving mother and father and a stable live. She wasn’t built for fighting.

The only thing keeping her afloat and winning was her fear instincts driving her. And a few lessons by Hannah and Tommy during whatever downtime they could squeeze out.

If she doesn’t fight, her opponent was going to break her; literally.

Just because she could didn’t mean she liked it. She was forever grateful that Hannah and her cellmate 66-16-01 took forever to finish up. It gave her time to collect herself and to hind in her mind palace. She could hide away and repress the memories once all this was over.

Hannah suggested it to her. Tommy cautioned that one day the walls would fall and the memories would hit her like a freight train.

Crumb didn’t have the capacity; she was already going through so much trauma. What was a little more after the fact?

Sure she trusted them with her life, but she wanted her parents to help her feel completely safe to break.

The gong sounded. Hannah had 66-16-01 in a chokehold and the latter had tapped out. Crumb should really learn her name.

“And next to the mat 93-08-02 v. 87-08-01!”

Hannah offered 66-16-01 her hand. She ruffled Crumb’s hair in a comforting way as they passed.

The two eight year old girls bowed to each other; shaking, the both of them. “Meri.”

“Crumb.”

Crumb was not okay. But she had to be. She had to keep going.

Sometimes we pull ourselves together

If Hannah and Plushys’ version of rebellion was to play with their food and drag their fights out for just shy of too long. Then Tommy’s act of defiance was beating his opponents in as little time as possible. Even that one time he was given a fight against eight people, he was done with them all in about five minutes.

That year Tommy spent living in alleyways really helped here.

He rolled his shoulders up straight in the ring, six moaning bodies on the floor, bruises forming on his skin. The others looking much worse than he did.

He was honestly surprised that none of them were bleeding. Wasn’t that a pleasant thought?

He stood there, breathing heavy, for a moment. An uncomfortably long moment. Like they were waiting to see is any of his opponents was going to get up and fight back.

The gong sounded.

Tommy stared defiantly at the audience, unblinking, as aids put the six other kids on stretchers and got them medical attention.

“93-10-01 wins another match.”

But our efforts fade away

With every trip to the Warehouse on 1889 Coral Lane for intel, 5up hates his father more and more.

That man saw no problem with whatever was going on here.

In fact, now that he was going to the fights with his father, the man was paying more attention to him than he had in years. 5up hated it. He hated everything about this.

At least he now knew for sure what kind of person he needed to be to get his father’s approval. A guide on what not to do.

5up stared back at 93-10-01. This kid. This kid. He had so much spirit, and he was using it to fuel his rage.

5up could tell that 93-10-01 was tried. That he wanted to go home. Soon.

Soon. They were in the final stages of planning. They had a big enough team. They’d only need to hold out a little longer.

“93-10-01 wins another match.”

5up half-raised his hand, signaling he would be cashing out.

93-10-01 turned his head away and walked off.

We are dust

Plushys, Hannah, Tommy, and Crumb sat together in the children’s canteen.

“I hate him,” Tommy said.

“Who?”

“Mr. Nicchi Jr.”

“Give him time,” Pushys said. “This is a big job.”

“I know.” Tommy look at Crumb. He put some of his greens onto her place. “I don’t know how much longer we can hold you though.”

“I know.”

“And he’s a bettor.”

“He has too,” Plushys said. “It’s his cover. He can’t come in here and just demand they let everybody go. It’ll be more intense than that.”

“I know.”

“I promise he’s a vigilante.”

Tommy swallowed his food. He glanced at Hannah out the corner of his eye. “I trust you.” He took another bite. “I have too.”

Plushys looked around the canteen. She stabbed her fork into a softened carrot and held it above her head. “A toast. To eight months.”

Tommy raised a fork as well. “To three.”

Crumbling by the moment

“To three.” Hannah raised her fork and carrot as well. She ate the steamed vegetable and went back to longingly looking around.

Her spirit was falling.

But it shouldn’t be.

She was a street rat. She knew how to do this. She knew how to fight and she knew how to win.

She was very close to breaking down and lashing out, but that didn’t go well for the last kid that did that.

Hannah was tried. She felt dead. She didn’t want to do this anymore. She wants to leave, but she can’t.

Even if the door is right there.

The door outside was right next to her and Plushys’ cell. They had a nail file. They could break the bars.

But she can’t leave everyone else behind.

We try to push away the ending

“93-10-01.”

“What?”

The guard gestured to the food tray in front of Tommy.

“Right.” Tommy stood up. “I’ll see you guys next time.”

“Bye Tommy.”

“Just hold on a little longer.”

“We’ll be fine.”

Tommy grabbed another tray for Purpled and made his way down to room 322.

“Hey.”

Purpled grunted.

“I do not understand why they have this gag on you.”

Purpled shrugged. He jokingly try to bite Tommy three seconds later though.

“Hey. Without me you wouldn’t eat.”

Purpled gasped. “You would never do that to me would you?”

This was nice; both of them pretend that they aren’t kidnapping children and just two bros hanging out. Ignoring that Tommy was fork feeding Purpled food, as they still had him chained up.

“So when are you breaking us out?” Purpled asks.

“What? Where did that came from?”

“Seems like something you’d do.”

“I mean yeah.” Tommy looked down at the food. He lowered his voice, “Someone’s coming to help us.”

“I hope so.” Purpled looked away from Tommy’s fork. “Punz will come for me.”

“Yeah,” Tommy said distractedly. He honestly didn’t know if he should tell Purpled that there was a group of vigilantes coming to get them, the heroes. He was a posh upper ten boy, what would be think? ”Purpled? What do you think about vigilantes?”

Purpled took a bite of his food and thought about it while he chewed. “Vigilantes are unregulated menaces that try to do good.” Purpled tipped his head forward. “They do good. They do good, I know that.”

“You know that? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve seen the records. Heroes have notes on every problem creator – that they know of. But there are different categories between vigilantes and dipshits.”

“Dipshits?”

“Well that’s not what they’re called in the system. It’s more formal. But, like. vigilantes create problems for heroes, and dipshits create problems for vigilantes. Those guys can’t really be called really villains can they?”

“No. No they aren’t. Usually just the local robber.”

Purpled laughed. “The local robber?”

“Yeah. That’s a thing that exists in the lower districts.”

“You ever seen a local robber?”

“Sure. Had to hide behind a few shelves at the grocery store. Dude had a gun.”

“What the hell?”

“Just because District 9 is little crime free doesn’t mean the rest of us get that.”

“What the hell?”

“People gotta do what they gotta do.”

“And that doesn’t get reported?”

“Purpled if every single crime was reported to Hero HQ the whole system would collapse in on its self because of how many things they would have to deal with.”

“But-“

“Purpled. Vigilantes keep us safe.”

“Heroes keep us crime free,” Pured countered.

“And poverty keeps me the local thief in my area.”

“You’re what? Don’t vigilantes get called on you?”

“Nah. I’m just a kid. I don’t need much and I’m not messy about it. There are so many other kids doing that as well. They don’t really care.”

“What does that mean?”

“Literally all the food stalls just give out extra produce that’s going to go bad at the end of the day so they don’t have to worry about thieves during the day.”

“What?” Purpled’s mind was exploding the more Tommy told him about how he lived.

“Loose the same amount of coins but there’s no crime going on. And the food is already almost bad anyways so it’s going to get thrown out.”

“Why would you give out rotting food to children?”

“They don’t give out rotting food!” Tommy defended. “People just don’t buy the strawberry’s that are four days old when fresh ones are right there on the table. And even if the food is almost going bad, it’s going to get eaten that night so it doesn’t really matter.”

Purpled opened the closed his mouth a couple times. “I hope Captain comes for me.”

“Captain?” Tommy offered Purpled another bite of his dinner.

“Captain Sparklez? Lives in District 87?”

“Oh that guy. He helps vigilantes sometimes I’ve heard. He’s probably coming.”

“It’s going to be a group of vigilantes isn’t it? Punz isn’t coming for me?”

Tommy decided that honestly was the best policy. “I don’t know.”

And black roses fall the same

Hannah and Plushys both added another tally to their calendars.

Hannah started to file away at the bars on the cell wall. It might be helpful when they were finally able to get out of here.

Hannah looked at the black roses growing through the cracks in their exterior wall.

“We’re getting out of here.”

“We will be free,” Plushys added.

Taglist:

@causeimfabulous @anty-kreatywna @sleepysnails