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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 4 years ago

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Breathe ~ the Doctor (part 5)

A/n: I should be doing requests... I’m sorry... I just really love Doctor Who and my only other option is to watch the show where I’m at in my rewatch rather than where I’m at in this fan fiction, and I just got to the episode where Ten becomes Eleven and I’m... not ready man. Dang it.

Word Count:11,000+

MASTERLIST

When the Doctor and Rose cornered Y/n with Mickey completely out of sight, Y/n knew this was another intervention. The last time they'd done this was when they'd asked him to stop killing himself to save others. A bit hypocritical coming from the Doctor, but understandable as well. Watching one of the people you love die is bad enough once, but multiple times? Yeah no.

This time, they all knew it was different without having to say anything.

Y/n had gotten rather good at steering the TARDIS. Recently the Doctor had been letting him do it on his own to give him the experience, which had given The Doctor more time to spend with Rose. Mickey had been glued to Y/n's side because of this, trying to avoid watching his ex be with someone else. His ex, who he still loved. It was getting awkward if they were all being honest. The Doctor and Rose had stepped away from each other a lot, and it was obvious it was rather unpleasant for both of them. Instead of sitting back and teasing Y/n or recounting adventures or dreaming up possible news ones, inches apart with the Doctor's arm around Rose's shoulders, now they just talked about things from a bit of distance, with much less enthusiasm and flirting. Y/n avoided the awkwardness by distracting Mickey and driving the TARDIS. In fact, he'd learned to ignore a lot of things he didn't want to acknowledge by driving the TARDIS.

Like now. Rose and the Doctor looked at him, arms folded and faces serious, as Y/n overly focused on driving the TARDIS. Finally Rose sighed, stepping closer. "Where do you guys want to go now? I think I have the hang of this for real this time! No accidents." He waited for them to take the ease poke fun, but when they didn't he pushed on hurriedly. "I love the ocean don't get me wrong, but an ocean on another planet? Not great to open the doors on, but fun to explore. We were just lucky there was that ship there." He chuckled, but it fell short again when the other two didn't laugh. He sighed, stopping. "What is it?" He amusement had fallen, his anxiety rising.

"A while ago when we were at that school with the-"

"Weird bat people who wanted to be gods so they could fix the universe?" Y/n offered.

"Yeah," Rose agreed. A smile slipped through for a second until she swallowed it. "Brother whatever his name was - Mr. Finch. He said... he said you had memories that weren't yours."

Y/n forced a chuckle. "That was a while ago, Rosey, why are we talking about it now?"

Rose shot the Doctor a look. "Someone wanted to ignore it as much as you do. But I think we need to talk about this, because secrets are making things difficult and talking about things going on is important. Especially if it includes other people."

Y/n sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know what you could mean."

The Doctor piped up then. "Gallifrey." Y/n jerked, his knuckles going white as he gripped the control panel. "Did I ever tell you about what it was like there?" Y/n didn't respond, so the Doctor continued. "It was different than your Earth, obviously. But not just different like we've seen in places like Earth - it was really different. It was breathtaking. There were two suns there, and silver leaves that glowed when the light touched them." His voice was almost reverent, and Y/n felt his chest hurt as the image came to his mind so clearly. "The sky was the same though. A beautiful blue-"

"Blue?" Y/n looked up at him with confusion, and immediately realized his mistake. When the two men locked eyes, there was pain mirrored in both.

"What color was it really?" Rose asked softly. She knew. Y/n knew she knew. He realized only too quickly how this had been planned out, so clear and easy, to drag the truth out of Y/n in a way that he could never deny.

Giving in, Y/n looked up at the TARDIS, as if seeing the sky in person. "Orange. This glorious burnt orange. Made the leaves on the trees... glow." His voice caught and he shot up a hand to his face to wipe away a tear. "The day it was actually on fire..." He closed his eyes. "It's so clear in my mind, that day. I wasn't even there." His hands shot to cover his face, his fingers threading through his hair and pulling lightly on the roots. "God I can hear it. I can hear the music and the wind and the laughter and voices. I can feel the sunshine on my skin, Doctor." His hands dropped, head falling forward. "It's so heavy."

The Doctor moved closer, hands resting on either side of Y/n's face. "I can take it away if you want."

"No." Y/n ripped away, leaning back. "I was given this for a reason. I see so much now. I understand so much more. It hurts, but why would you ever let that pain go? It makes you stronger. It teaches you things that make you understand more. I can see things when I look at people who are nothing like me. I can understand a pain I would never have been able to experience on my own, and through that pain I have learned mercy that I should be incapable of. That I would have always been incapable of." He had been looking at the Doctor while he spoke, but now he looked away again, bashful. "There's something special about having the memories of lives you never lived, as a human. You've always said we're special, Doctor. Us humans. I think it's nice, to have the mind closest to a god one can get, while still having the heart of a human."

It was quiet for a long time until Rose moved closer to Y/n, raising her hand to wrap around the back of his neck. She kissed his forehead. "What a trio we are, eh? The human, the alien, and the one who's a little combination of both." She nudged Y/n and they both chuckled.

Y/n looked at the Doctor. "I'm sorry. I know... it's something I wished you had given to me, if I had to be given it at all. I don't know why I got them at all, but I feel like its a super invasion of privacy and-"

"You remember everything?" Was all he asked.

Y/n swallowed. "Every single detail of your life until the whole Bad Wolf thing."

The Doctor moved rather suddenly, forcing Rose to move backward as he grabbed Y/n's face and kissed him. Suddenly Y/n's mind exploded with memories, both his own and the Doctor's. He saw himself tripping over himself as he ran through an empty street, too young to be on his own but in that situation anyway. Not sure where to go or what to do, but knowing that he couldn't stop running. A little older and running again, but this time in different clothes, a small dog at his side. Laughter rang through the dark street that was teasing a sun rise. Suddenly he was much younger and making his parents breakfast because they'd had a rough night and were both super hung over; the left side of his face still hurt, and his body was tired from the rough sleep he'd barely gotten. Older again, leaning against a wall, near a fire contained in a trashcan, as a pretty blonde girl approached him with wide eyes full of worry. A few months later, as they sat at the edge of a pond, talking and laughing. She had brought him food and was complaining about how lame school was, until he told her how behind school he was. The months that came after with her teaming up with tutors to teach him all the important things he'd missed, giving him a place to stay and a job where she worked by vouching for him. Celebrating his eighteenth birthday with her by his side, and realizing that night that he was in love with her because seeing her at the side of someone else made his blood boil. More recent things, right before the Doctor had met them, where Y/n rolled his eyes and had sass offs with Mickey, who could never quite keep up with him. Things that happened so incredibly long ago, from the days that were fuzzy but distantly warm, before his parents took the road that lead them to destruction. Days that were freezing cold as he clung to the clothes he had in some attempt to keep warm. Running for his life when he got caught stealing. Learning how to do it better over time. Dodging police and orphanages for years. The few times he'd been caught, and had a small reprieve of shelter and promised food and clothes before he had to leave the orphanage, or his short stay in juvey ended.

When the two men leaned away from each other, Y/n was crying. The Doctor rested his forehead on Y/n's, pulling him close. They didn't say anything for a long time. Rose reached out and placed her hand on Y/n's shoulder, and he pulled her in to make it a hug with her sandwiched between them. The two men squeezed until Rose was half giggling and half screaming at them and only then did they let her go.

"So," Y/n sighed, shifting gears. "Where do you guys wanna go next?"

This is where the Doctor took charge. "I have an idea. Here, help me - pull that thing over there."

Y/n and the Doctor zipped around. It was so much easier with help - Y/n didn't know how the Timelord had done it all these years. Even now it was chaotic... they landed fine enough though, and soon Mickey was joining them in the control room and Y/n felt guilty for having forgotten to go and get him when the conversation had shifted. He needed to be better to the man - being around your ex and her new boyfriends was bad enough, but the others were accidentally sending signals that Mickey wasn't wanted and it was an extra sting the boy didn't need.

Making a promise silently to himself, Y/n moved to Mickey's side when the TARDIS landed. "First time out and about with the Doctor is always a little bit of a shock. You won't have it so bad since you've gotten a taste of it before, but still. Having aliens come to you is a lot different than you coming to them, so brace yourself."

Mickey puffed up his chest and Y/n swallowed the urge to roll his eyes. "I'll be fine, but thanks for the concern, Captain." They all went outside, and Y/n kept an eye on Mickey as the man took in his first non-Earth alien experience. "It's a spaceship," Mickey squeaked, and Y/n tried to make his grin less teasing and more excited. He was after all rather enthusiastic to go wandering in unknown territory. "Brilliant! I got a spaceship on my first go."

Rose was less excited. "Looks kind of abandoned. Anyone on board?" Y/n realized that she was concerned for the people who should be here, and Y/n found his heart swelling. What a good woman.

"Nah. nothing here," the Doctor answered. He made a weird face then corrected, "Well, nothing dangerous." Y/n rose an eyebrow. "Well, not that dangerous." Y/n scoffed in amusement, shaking his head. This man... "You know what, I'll just have a quick scan. In case there's anything dangerous."

That reminded Y/n of Jack Harkness, back in the days before the man who the Doctor was now. When they'd first met the infamous Captain Jack, and Rose had teased about how official he was with his scanning for alien tech. That made him sad to think about though. Jack had died the day Y/n had. He wondered what things would be like if Jack had been brought back with him. Someone to lift this burden off of his shoulders. The fear of forever, where nothing ever lasts long enough. In the span of eternity, it would be nice to have a friend who could be by your side through it all.

The others talked as the lights came on but Y/n began to walk away from them, taking in all the new things and searching the Doctor's memory to see if he knew what this was. To his surprise, he didn't. Y/n turned back, moving to the others once again. "This feels wrong," he said.

The Doctor nodded. "Honestly, had some cowboys in here. Been a ton of repair work going on." He dropped a piece of equipment, using his now free hand to point at a screen. "Now if you really want to talk about odd, look at that. All the warp engines are going." His eyebrows came together. "Full capacity." He planted a hand on the desk, leaning on it, his other hand going to his waist. "That's enough power running through the ship to punch a hole in the universe..." He looked up.

"But we're not moving," Y/n pointed out. Suddenly there was something in the back of his mind, poking at him. It was a small bother, as if someone tiny was trying to get his attention at the corner of his vision. He couldn't quite put a finger on it though.

Nodding, the Doctor looked at Y/n. Finally they saw each other for what they both were. No secrets. What sat in Y/n's eyes still scared the Timelord, but it was a relief too. Maybe Y/n would understand him, as much as a human could understand. "The question is then, where's all that power going?"

"Where'd all the crew go?" Rose piped up, reminding the others in the room once again that there was no one on board a ship. One that they all now knew was at full thrusters and should be shooting through reality itself, but was standing still anyway.

"Good question," the Doctor complimented. "No life readings on board." He began to mess with the controls.

Rose sighed. "Well we're in deep space. They didn't just nip out for a quick smoke."

"Nope," the Doctor agreed. "I've checked all the smoking pods."

Y/n reached over, placing his hand on the Doctor's shoulder. "Doctor..." It had just clicked what had been bothering him. "That smell?"

Everyone took a good whiff. "Smells like someone's cooking." Rose placed her hands on her hips, looking like she was about to tell someone off for having fire indoors.

"Sunday roast, definitely," Mickey agreed.

Hitting a button in his fiddling, the Doctor hit a switch that opened a panel behind them. They turned and began walking into a new room. One that had... a fireplace. Odd. "Well." The Doctor slipped his hands in his pockets. "That's not something you see on your average spaceship." Y/n got excited, finally able to learn and explore, and took off to get a closer look. It seemed he had done so at the exact same second the Doctor had so they were side by side as the Doctor continued, "18th century French. Nice mantle." He took out his sonic screwdriver as Y/n ran his hands along the wood, feeling the detail and leaning close to get a good look.

"It's beautiful workmanship," Y/n whispered, in awe.

"Not a hologram either," the Doctor tagged on, after checking the thing with his screwdriver then slipping the tool back into his coat.

Something dawned on Y/n and his eyes widened. "And this isn't a replica, is it?" He looked at the Doctor, eyebrows raised.

"No," the Doctor agreed. "This is actually an 18th-century French fireplace."

Y/n narrowed his eyes. "Well how is that possible? In so much time passed, the only way this thing is in such good condition is if it was fairly new, or untouched. It would have gotten scuffed or broken, needed replacements in all that time." He jerked. "Could they be time travelers?"

"You know as much as I do," the Doctor answered. And it was true. Time travel wasn't a common thing. It wasn't technology the Timelords had shared with anyone else. It was highly unlikely at best, and even if that was the case, why would someone take a mantle out of time and use it to decorate a ship? There were better and far more easily accessed things. There was a second of silence as the two men searched for clues until the Doctor drew in a sharp breath. "It's double-sided. There's another room through there."

"It can't be," Rose contradicted as the Doctor kneeled down. Y/n followed him and the two leaned against each other to make room for both of them. "That's the outer hull of the ship," Rose continued. She was looking out a window. "Look." At her command, Mickey moved closer to her to inspect.

Suddenly, there was a child on the other side of the fireplace. The Doctor smiled. "Hello."

"Hello?" the small girl replied, obviously unsure. Y/n waved politely. She nodded in return.

"What's your name?" the Doctor asked.

"Reinette," the girl responded. Y/n was surprised by the child's willingness to share infomration. It was rather helpful, but still dangerous since she didn't know them.

"Reinette," the Doctor smiled. "That's a lovely name. Can you tell me where you are at the moment, Reinette?" Mickey and Rose crouched between Y/n and the Doctor, trying to see what was going on. Rose gasped quietly.

That seemed to confuse the girl. "In my bedroom?" she offered slowly.

"And where's your bedroom?" the Doctor clarified. "Where do you live, Reinette?"

"Paris of course," Reinette responded, shaking her head slightly. Y/n wanted to say somethingm but the Doctor had it handled and the child was probably a little overwhelmed with a bunch of strange people looking at her. Having more than one of them talk to her at a time might be overwhelming and could scare her off.

"Paris, right." The Doctor grinned, shaking his head, playing off that he was just silly or confused and not the truth, which was much harder to explain.

The girl seemed to have questions of her own. "Monsieur, what are you doing in my fireplace?"

"Oh it's just a routine... fire check," the Doctor lied on the fly. Y/n shook his head, trying to hide his smile. "Can you tell me what year it is?" the Doctor asked quickly, trying to cover up the obvious lie. "Can you tell me what year it is?"

"Of course I can," Reinette answered. She smiled, amused by the funny man in her fireplace. "1727."

Well that explained the fireplace. At least, where they got it. "Right, lovely, one of my favorites."

"You say that for every time," Y/n finally spoke up. "They're all your favorite."

"Well, yeah," the Doctor relented. "I will say, August of this year though is a bit rubbish, though. Stay indoors." He perked up. "Okay. That's all for now. Thanks for your help. Hope you enjoy the rest of the fire. Night night."

"Goodnight, Monsieur," was all Reinette said in reply. They all stood, facing each other away from the fireplace.

"You said this was the 51st-century," Micky reminded rather bitterly.

"I also said the ship was generating enough energy to punch a hole in the universe," the Doctor shot back immediately. "I think we just found the hole." They all looked back at the fireplace. "Must be a spatio-temporal hyperlink," he continued to himself.

"What's that?" Mickey asked.

"He made it up," Y/n scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"I didn't want to say magic door," the Doctor complained in response.

Rose tried a go at this whole thing. "And on the other side of the "magic door" it's France in 1727?"

"Well." the Doctor tilted his head. "She was speaking French. Right period French, too."

"No, she was speaking English. I heard her." Mickey's eyebrows were so pushed together his confusion seemed to turn to anger.

"No the TARDIS translates languages so wherever we go, we understand what everyone is saying," Rose explained eagerly, always happy to have her turn knowing what's going on. Her excitement was cute. They were a clever bunch, them. Well not Mickey, but the rest of them.

That was a rude thought. Perhaps the Doctor was rubbing off on Y/n a little more than he'd thought.

"Even French?" Mickey asked.

Y/n replied, "Obviously," at the same time that Rose gave a much kinder, more patient response of, "Yep." She nudged him and he smiled, playing innocent. They began migrating back toward the mantle, and Y/n crouched down, looking through the fire. Rose and Mickey were stepped back as Mickey tried to process the TARDIS when suddenly the floor began to move.

The Doctor had found a lever, and with victory, he pulled it. "Gotchya!" That's what made the floor move, as like a false bookcase in a murder mystery story, the whole thing spun so they were on the other side of the mantle, in the room where Reinette had been. Except... they didn't mean Mickey and Rose, because they'd been too far. Only by coincidence had Y/n managed to be close enough that when the thing turned, he had gone with the Doctor.

Y/n stood, eyes wide as he looked around the room with awe. He went to say something, but then his eyes landed on Reinette, who was asleep in bed. She looked sound asleep too, despite being wide awake and moving around and talking just seconds ago. Y/n and the Doctor exchanged wide looks. They both slowly moved further into the room, the Doctor going to the window to look outside and Y/n moving around to inspect the make of the room and attempt to take a peak outside the door into the hallway.

Attempt was the word, because before he could actually do it, Reinette awoke with a gasp, sitting up in bed with wide eyes. The Doctor rushed to calm her. "It's okay! Don't scream. It's me. It's fireplace man." Y/n shot him a look, but it seemed to work. Did this child have no survival instincts at all? Two grown, strange men creeping around her bedroom at night while she slept and she's calm the second she sees the Doctor?

Well, actually, that made sense. There was a sense that one could always trust the Doctor. The same went for Y/n, but for different reasons. The Doctor was the kind of person you hid behind and trusted to run out into battle and protect you. Even if he wasn't by your side, you knew you were safe. Y/n was the kind of person who never left your side. He held your hand and comforted you and gave the sense that he would take a bullet for you while holding you in his arms, his back to the danger and you completely safe from it. Together they were quite calming. The Doctor knew what he was doing, and nothing could stop him from figuring it out and destroying it. Y/n knew less, but was far more ready to put himself in harm's way, and nothing would ever get to you as long as he was there to stand in danger's way.

The Doctor moved to the candle on Reinette's dresser, using his sonic screwdriver to light the candle and cast light in the room so the girl in bed could see him. Her eyes moved from him quickly though to Y/n. "And his friend," she told herself. It didn't seem to e something she meant to say aloud.

"Yes." the Doctor began to change, becoming softer and warmer. It was something he did only for children. It showed that huge, soft heart of his he tried to protect - even from Rose who couldn't always see through his guise because she didn't know what Y/n did. Children had always made him like this. More human. Less logical and curious and detached and more emotional. Closer. Y/n tried not to think about the time that had been most true, with his own children. How that had become so painful for him after they were gone, but how it had never gone away because he just couldn't help himself. The Doctor spoke again, knocking Y/n out of his thoughts. "We were talking, the three of us, just a moment ago. We were in your fireplace."

The girl shook her head. "Monsieur, that was weeks ago. That was months."

The Doctor looked at Y/n, who was just as surprised. Hadn't it been just seconds ago for them? "Really?" the brunette asked as he turned back to the child. He rose a hand to tug on his ear - a tell that he was caught off guard and uncomfortable. He really was a terrible liar. He turned away from her, going back to the mantle. He kneeled down, knocking on it. "Must be a loose connection. We need to get someone in here."

"Wait Doctor-" Y/n moved closer as well, a startling thought hitting him. "If time passes like that over here, do you think it's just that time is different on either side? I mean, its been seconds since we left Rose and Mickey for us but..."

Before they could brain map that out, or go back, Reinette spoke again. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

The Doctor didn't answer though. He froze a second, and then his eyes slowly drifted back toward the mantle, away from the little girl, landing on the clock. Y/n wasn't sure what he was seeing, but he looked anyway, hoping it would click immediately. "Okay, that's scary," the Doctor muttered.

"You're scared of a broken clock?" Reinette asked with slight sass. Y/n was starting to like this kid.

Amusement didn't seem to be in the cards for the Doctor right now though. With all seriousness he responded, "Just a bit scared, yeah. Just a little tiny bit. Cause you see, if this clock's broken, and it's the only clock in the room..." He looked around to affirm and Y/n followed his gaze.

And that was when he heard it. He looked back at the clock on the mantle to be sure, and saw the hands were still, frozen in place. But if that was the case... "What's making that ticking noise?" It was half a question, and half a resolution as he realized what path the Doctor had gone down.

"Definitely not a clock," the Doctor provided like an answer, even though it was phrased as if continuing a sentence that Y/n had just supplied a part of. "You can tell by the resonance. Too big." He began walking away from the mantle and Y/n stayed close. Not to hide behind the Doctor as most people were happy to do, but because he was making sure the Doctor was okay - just as he always stayed close to keep people safe. "Six feet I'd say," the Doctor continued. "The size of a man."

"What is it?" Reinette asked, beginning to grow panicked.

The Doctor began to move to one side of the bed, nodding Y/n to go the other way. Only then did the men part. "Now let's think." the Doctor was all business now, taking control of a situation and figuring out the threat. It calmed Reinette as it did earlier, to see the two men to actually be who they seemed to be. Without the Doctor to watch, Y/n moved closer to Reinette, looking around the room, his body coiled to fight if necessary. "If you were a thing that ticked and you were hiding in someone's bedroom, first thing you do: break the clock. No one notices the sound of one clock ticking, but two?" He hesitated a while and Y/n felt a chill in his spine. "You might start to wonder if you were really alone. He began to kneel, looking under the bed, and Y/n moved to block the other side. The thing still might escape at the end, but the less places it had to go, the better. Y/n stayed on his feet, still ready to run or tackle something if he had to. "Stay in the middle of the bed," the Doctor instructed Reinette. "Hands and feet close by."

The Doctor looked under the bed. There was the soft whirring of the sonic screwdriver, and long silence that held far too much tension.

Suddenly, a hand shot out and the trio jumped, eyes going wide. Y/n watched the Doctor to make sure he was okay, still planted in place if the thing tried to run.

Unfortunately, the thing did run, but it moved incredibly fast. It was out from under the bed and standing next to Y/n within seconds, and all Y/n could do was stand there as the thing wrapped a hand around his throat. He went stiff, eyes wide. The Doctor moved slowly from being on the ground to raising from the floor at a snail's pace, eyes trained on the thing that was currently holding Y/n in a very compromising position.

"Reinette," the Doctor whispered softly, looking at the small girl who was facing him instead of the thing that had Y/n. "Don't look round." As she had been all night, the girl was obedient. "You." The Doctor's voice had changed as he directed the thing holding Y/n. "Stay exactly where you are. Unless of course you could be so kind as to let my partner there go." His words were polite, but his tone was dark. He was not asking. If anything, his words were a threat. The thing didn't move, either to let Y/n go or to hurt him, so the Doctor hesitated, looking at Reinette again. His face changed and he kneeled down again, but this time to grab Reinette's face with both of his hands. Y/n knew what he was doing, and he relaxed. As much as Reinette was fine with sitting there and listening to every word the Doctor told her, Y/n was the same. Both of them trusted the Doctor completely, and if he didn't think Y/n was in any real danger enough to address it, he wasn't.

"What is it?" Y/n asked softly, taking in the expression of the man now looking at Reinette like she had an arm attached to the side of her head.

"You've been scanning her brain." It was an answer, but mostly an accusation, and it was targeted at the clockwork man holding Y/n. "You've crossed two galaxies and thousands of years just to scan a child's brain? What could there be in a little girl's mind worth blowing a hole in the universe?" He let Reinette go, standing tall again.

"You've done it now," Y/n mumbled, finding himself grinning.

"I don't understand." Reinette hadn't spoken in a while, but in all that time she hadn't lost much worry, even if her fear was satiated. She was safe while the Doctor was here, but why did she need his protection at all? She turned now, looking at the clockwork thing. "You want me?"

The clockwork man looked at her - the first time it had shown any sign of thought since moving out from under the bed. In a robotic drawl, it answered. "Not yet. You are incomplete." Its hands tightened around Y/n's throat and his eyes fluttered closed as he took in his a labored breath to feed his brain air as much he could.

"Let him go!" Reinette screamed. Unlike when the Doctor had threatened the automaton immediately let go of Y/n, who dropped to his knees, gasping.

"Are you okay, Y/n?" the Doctor asked.

"I'm fine," Y/n rasped, not moving from his spot on the floor. "Keep that brain of yours working, that's what we need right now."

The Doctor hesitated, but obliged. His eyes moved to the automaton. "You said she was incomplete. What does that mean?" The thing didn't respond, and the Doctor got irritated. "You can answer her, you can answer me," he demanded. "What do you mean, incomplete?" He brought up his screwdriver and the thing responded, but not how it had been asked to. Instead, it moved around Y/n on the floor and to the other side of the bed, raising its own arm and extending a blade to press against the Doctor's throat just as threateningly.

"Monsieur be careful!" Reinette begged, worry in her eyes.

"It's just a nightmare, Reinette," the Doctor assured. "Don't worry about it."

Y/n forced himself to his feet. "Doctor," he croaked, afraid to move and startle the thing, but feeling his stress rise at seeing the Doctor in danger. Why couldn't the thing just stay focused on him? Y/n couldn't die. "What you said before, about how it can answer you if it answers her. I mean... she's supposed to be here, we aren't. What if it's not supposed to answer anyone but her?"

The Doctor's eyes widened. That could have been from the way the mechanic thing swung at him though. Y/n surged forward as the Doctor skidded back, the mechanic man following his path. The Doctor kept addressing Reinette, eyes flickering to her as if Y/n hadn't spoken. Y/n realized why when he looked back and noticed her at the edge of her bed, looking ready to cry. "Everyone has nightmares," he told her soothingly. "Even monsters from under the bed have nightmares." he leaned against the mantle, a smirk rising to his face. "Don't you, Monster?" He ducked as the metal weapon swung down at him, missing him and planting firmly in the wood of the mantle instead, sticking and leaving the clockwork machine helpless and unmoving. Y/n met the Doctor, immediately going to check that he was okay.

Reinette interrupted the scene. "What do monsters have nightmares about?" She asked. There was another question in her eyes as she looked between the Doctor and Y/n, but not one she could find words for, so she left it there instead.

The Doctor grinned at that question though, fueled by being able to answer. "Me," he told her as he leaned against the lever that turned the wall again and took the clockwork man, the Doctor, and Y/n all back back over to the ship side of this situation, leaving Reinette in her room alone.

To Y/n's relief, it seemed that neither Rose nor Mickey had moved since they'd been here last. "Doctor!" Rose exclaimed, going to run forward and greet him, but then stopping short when she saw the man clock. The Doctor raced to the side of the room, grabbing one of the guns. Y/n was far out of the way by the time the Timelord turned around, hosing the machine man down with some sort of mist. Y/n realized what had happened when the mist cleared and the clockwork man was silent and still, as if frozen.

"Excellent, ice gun." Mickey looked at the gun with intrigue.

Y/n smirked. "Fire extinguisher actually," he corrected. The Doctor winked, proud of Y/n. He then tossed the gun he was holding to Rose, who caught it and pulled it to her face to take a closer look.

"Where did that thing come from?" Rose asked as she looked at the gun.

"Here." The Doctor slipped his hands into his pockets, his brain racing as usual.

"Why is it dressed like that then?" Mickey seemed to disbelieve as usual.

"Well you can't go around somewhere you don't want to be noticed if you don't blend in," was what Y/n offered.

"Fieldtrip to France," the Doctor followed up. "Some kind of camouflage protocol." He began to walk toward the thing. "Nice needle work. Shame about the face." He pushed the mask off, knocking it to the floor to reveal the actual head of the thing underneath. What was there was a head-shaped clear, plastic shield that rested overtop clockwork, all made of gold. The Doctor's eyes widened and his jaw dropped, and Y/n gasped, moving closer rather quickly. "Oh, you are beautiful!" He took out his glasses to get a better look. "No really, you are. Look at that!" he looked at Y/n, his eyes full of admiration. Y/n's eyes were trained on the clockwork, but he felt the Doctor's gaze and nodded in silent awe. "Space age clockwork. I love it. I've got chills! Listen, seriously, I mean this from the heart - and by the way, count those - it would be a crime, it would be an act of vandalism, to disassemble you..."

Y/n snorted. "Since when has that ever stopped you?"

The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver. "Not even once," he admitted. "And it won't stop me now." There was a split second, as if the thing was realizing how dangerous the Doctor was, and then it split into lots of pieces and was sucked up and away. "Short range teleport, can't have gone far. Could still be on board," the Doctor explained as he turned away, back to the mantle. "

"What is it?" Rose demanded.

"Don't go looking for it!" was all the Doctor offered in response. Y/n knew it was because the Timelord had no idea, and he hated to admit that most of the time.

"Well where are you going?" Rose shot back.

"Can I come with you?" Y/n asked, realizing the Doctor was headed back to Reinette's room.

The Doctor shook his head. "I need you to keep an eye on these two. We both know how far what I tell them to do goes." Then he hit the lever and the wall turned and he was gone.

There was only a second before Rose was ready to go off and do exactly what she'd been told not to, just as the Doctor predicted. "He said not to go look for it," Mickey reminded.

Y/n turned around, his face stern, to see Rose grinning smugly. "Yeah, he did." She looked at Y/n, daring him to stop her.

He always did as the Doctor asked, as he did now, and she knew it. "Come on Rose, it's dangerous and we have no idea what we're up a-" He had been walking toward her to stop her, but when he got close enough she grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him down into a rather heated kiss. She leaned away too soon for Y/n to be satisfied, leaving him reeling instead.

"You were saying?" As she winked at Y/n, Mickey grabbed another one of the guns off of where the Doctor grabbed the first one, and returned to Rose. "Now you've got it," she complimented. Then she turned around and began trekking down the hall and Y/n was completely helpless to stop her.

"Wait!" He squeaked, trying to orient himself. But it was too late, and he groaned before jogging after them. Why was it always up to him to keep them in check? They never listened anyway!

Mickey went the fast way, zooming past all the important stuff as he tried to look cool with his rolls and tiptoeing. Rose followed after him, looking around corners at least and walking normally, keeping an eye out for danger. Y/n dragged at last, paying attention to everything he could without being slow enough for Rose to get out of his sight. At one point Mickey made some sound of alarm and the other two moved to him. "Look at this," he told them. "That's an eye in there. That's a real eye."

And, unfortunately, he was right. In some sort of camera, where the lense would be was what looked to be just a human eye. Something or the sort at least - it seemed to be close to human in structure. Y/n moved closer and the thing zipped away.

"That's not good," Y/n said softly. "Ships don't have eyes attached to things that should be mechanic - living parts and machinery don't mix."

Rose caught his attention again by opening a hatch lower down the wall and leaning down. Mickey leaned down with her, peering into the hole behind the hatch. "What is that? There in the middle, it looks like it's wired in." Y/n couldn't see cause there was no room to get a vantage point, so he stayed back.

Rose answered for him. "It's a heart, Mickey. It's a human heart." They leaned away, and Rose looked at Y/n. "You've never seen anything like this before? Or the Doctor?"

Y/n's expression was grim as he looked around the ship, feeling his stomach turn as he began to put something together he didn't like. "No. Like I said, organic matter and machinery have never combined well. The metal bits would get too hot eventually and..." he swallowed, turning away. "Never mind. If you two are set on wandering around, we shall continue with that." And without another word he surged forward, hands in pockets and refusing to answer.

Rose tried to pressure him but after a while of not a single word for him, the trip grew silent. Until Mickey spoke up again. "Maybe it wasn't a real heart." Safely out of sight, Y/n allowed himself to roll his eyes.

"Of course it was a real heart." That cake from Rose, and she sounded as irritated as Y/n felt.

Mickey didn't seem to like that. Neither did Y/n, but one didn't deal with things they liked by ignoring them or trying to push them away or deny their existence. You had to accept the bad things as reality in order to conquer them. "Is this normal for you guys? Is this an average day?"

"Not this specifically," Y/n answered softly.

"There aren't really average days for anything though," Rose added. "Not with the Doctor. You don't ever really adjust to this stuff."

Y/n reached what seemed to be a window into a room that looked like it came from Reinette's time. He leaned closer, trying to look in. Rose and Mickey caught up with him. "It's France again. We can see France." Y/n glared And tried not to aim it at Mickey. If the man made one more obvious statement Y/n might implode.

"I think we're looking in a mirror." Rose seemed to be handling this better than Y/n, though not by much.

Some people walked in and Y/n watched, trying to read their lips. That wasn't one of the things he knew though, even with the odd things he'd accidentally picked up from the Doctor - like sticking his hands in his pockets when he didn't know what to do with them. "Who's this guy?" Mickey scoffed as they watched.

"The king of France." Y/n was surprised to hear the Doctor's voice, but relieved too.

"Oh," Rose drawled teasingly. "Here's trouble. What have you been up to?"

"This and that," was all they got. "Became the imaginary friend of a future French aristocrat. Got in a fight with a clockwork man - Reinette asked where you were by the way, Y/n."

"Take me next time then," Y/n shot jokingly.

"Might as well, you obviously can't keep these two where they're supposed to be like I asked," the Doctor shot back.

"Since when has anything been able to stop Rose Tyler?" Y/n defended himself.

That made the Doctor smile. "Fair point." there was suddenly a neigh from a horse as the white animal turned the corner. "Did I mention I made friends with a horse?"

Once again Mickey came in with the worst question. "What's a horse doing on a spaceship?"

The Doctor came back with irritation that made Y/n feel pleased. "Mickey, what's pre-revolutionary France doing on a spaceship? Get a little perspective." Y/n snorted. "See these?" He pointed to the mirror, turning attention to that instead so Mickey has to room to reply back. "They're all over the spaceship, on every deck. Gateways to history." A woman walked in the room, and Y/n tilted his head. She seemed familiar somehow. "But not just any old history," the Doctor continued. "Hers."

That's when it clicked. "That's Reinette?" Y/n asked in surprise. The Doctor nodded. He had a soft look in his eyes that made Y/n raise his eyebrows. The brunette felt the other's man gaze and turned to look, only to look away again very quickly when Y/n smirked. He was about to tease when the Doctor continued, a little more awkward this time.

"A time window. Deliberately arranged along the life of one particular woman. A spaceship from the 51st century stalking a woman from the 18th." He shook his head. "Why?"

"Who is she?" Rose inquired.

"Jean-Antionette Poisson," the Doctor replied. Y/n rose his eyebrows. French Mamés were so fancy. "Known to her friends as Reinette. One of the most accomplished women who ever lived." So that's why he was so into her.

"So she's got plans to be the Queen then?" Rose asked next, watching the way Reinette smiled at the King.

"No he's already got a Queen," the Doctor told her. "She's got plans of being his mistress."

Y/n's eyes went wide. "I'm worry, are we talking about- oh my stupid human brain, we're talking about THE Madame de Pompadour?" Y/n hissed, his eyebrows coming together in surprise.

The Doctor grinned. "Only and only!"

Y/n snorted. "You're just a man after all," he teased. Rose and Mickey both realized the Doctor's infatuation then too, Rose scowling and Mickey snickering quietly to himself.

The Doctor however, decided to ignore his comment. "I think this is the night they met. The night of the Yew Tree Ball. In no time flat she'll get herself established as his official mistress with her own rooms at the palace, even her own title. Madame de Pompredour, as Y/n so kindly recalled earlier."

Reinette moved toward the mirror, fixing herself, but looking straight at the four people she didn't know were looking back. "Queen must have loved her," Rose snarked quietly. Y/n silently thought that she was rather beautiful - a notice that had probably been what had made Rose think of that in the first place. He noticed the way the blonde looked at Reinette, and then took a peek at the Doctor. Y/n internally sighed. This girl and her jealousy...

"Yeah, they were actually really good friends," the Doctor stated in response to what she'd said.

"The Kong's wife and the Kong's girlfriend?" Mickey scoffed. When he said girlfriend, he looked directly at Y/n, and Y/n felt his anger rise.

"France," the Doctor dismissed. "Different planet." Suddenly he froze, and Y/n looked back through the mirror to see Reinette turning around, facing a man that was looking away from her. The thing turned and-

At the same time the Doctor and Y/n both lurched forward, pushing the mirror so it turned as the wall had at the mantle before, surging into the room as one. At some point he must have grabbed one of the guns because he suddenly hosed the thing down with it, freezing it as he had the one from before. Except this one... was working against that frost.

"Fireplace man," Reinette shouted in surprise. She then saw Y/n and grinned. "And he's brought his friend this time." Y/n tipped his head in greeted and she gave a small courtsey in response.

"What's it doing?" Mickey asked, in reference to the whirring sound coming from the clockwork man.

"Working its gears, trying to heat the ice." The Doctor tossed the gun back to Rose, who it seemed he'd stolen it from in the first place.

"And what happens then?" Mickey continued.

"It kills everyone in the room," the Doctor answered with a frown. Just then the arm of the clockwork man shot forward, hand reaching to choke the Doctor as it had once tried to choke Y/n. The Doctor was expecting it though, and was faster to react, jetting out of the way before it could succeed. "Focuses The mind, doesn't it?" He stared at the machine with authority. "Who are you?" He demanded. "Identify yourself." The thing only tilted its head.

Y/n stepped forward. "Remember before, Doctor? In Reinette's room?"

The Timelord nodded. "Right." He looked at Reinette. "Order it to answer me."

That seemed to confuse her though. "Why should it answer to me?"

"I don't know," he offered honestly. "But it did when you were a child." He looped around, moving to stand behind her, leaning in to whisper into her ear. "Let's see if you've still got it." Y/n smirked to himself. What a damn flirt.

Reinette turned to the living machine. "Answer his question," she ordered. "Answer any and all questions put to you."

The machine lowered its arm. "I am repair droid seven."

"And what happened to the ship?" The Doctor asked. "That's a lot of damage."

Y/n sucked in a breath and for a second, all eyes except the driod's turned to him. He looked at the machine though as it answered, "Ion storm, 82% failure."

"What did you find out, Y/n?" The Doctor pressed. So Y/n stepped forward, hoping he was wrong.

"The ship hasn't moved in a long while, hasn't it?" Y/n asked softly. "It's taken you a while to fix it - why?"

"We did not have the parts," the machine answered.

"You didn't have the parts you needed to fix your ship?" Y/n's voice was beginning to taint with horror, and the others looked at him with pre confusion, unsure as to what he was getting at. "So you're stuck in the middle of nowhere, ship broken down, no way to move, without the parts you need, and you had to do something." Y/n shook his head. "Why here and now? Why Reinette? What are you looking for here?"

"We did not have the parts," was all the machine answered.

So Y/n changed his question. "What part are you looking for?"

"What?" The Doctor couldn't make sense of that question. "They couldn't be looking for any parts here - it wouldnt make any sense at all. What about the crew?"

Again, the machine answered, "We didn't have the parts."

Y/n sighed, closing his eyes. "We found a camera with an eye in it. A heart, wired into the ship." He opened his eyes again, looking at the Doctor. "They didn't have the parts, so they used what was available to them."

The Doctor's eyes widened. "They used the crew." The others gawked, except Y/n who had known since they'd seen everything before. "It's just doing what it was programmed to do. Using whatever it can, wherever it can find it. No one told them the crew wasn't on the menu. What did you say the flight deck smelled of?"

Rose was stunned, her eyes glossing over as she remembered what she'd said then, and how it must have connected in Y/n's mind later. "Someone cooking." Her answer came with detached horror.

"Like I said. Machinery and organic material- they don't mix." Y/n's eyes dropped to the ground.

"Flesh plus heat," the Doctor added on. "Barbecue." A heavy silence fell, but the Doctor had never been good with silences so he didn't let it settle. "But what are you doing- oh!" He looked at Y/n, then back to the machine. "You're here for a part."

"One more part is required," the machine responded in confirmation.

The Doctor's voice dropped. "Why haven't you taken it?"

"She is not complete," the machine responded. Y/n remembered that it said the same thing that night in Reinette's bedroom.

"What so that's the plan then?" The Doctor jerked back in half mocking disbelief. It was a ridiculous plan, to be fair. "Open up more and more time windows and scanning her brain, checking to see if she's done yet?"

Then Rose jumped in with a brilliant question. "Why her?" She asked. "You've got all of history to choose from- why specifically her?"

"I mean The Doctor said it didn't he?" He realized before the machine could respond. "The most successful woman in history. Brilliant, and incredibly accomplished. I mean, the Doctor could probably go on for years about all she's been able to do. Her mind - her brain, the part they need - it's... I mean sorry if this sounds bad, but it's brilliant. They had to choose someone. Why not her?"

The machine looked at Y/n. "We are the same," It agreed.

"The same?" Reinette spat. "We are not the same! We are in no such way the same!" She panicked, and before anyone could stop her she ordered the thing, "Get out of here this instant!" It disappeared and Y/n ran into the ship, looking around the corner. It was gone though. The Doctor yelled something and Rose and Mickey took off running.

Before Y/n could join then the Doctor called, "Y/n, stay with me!" So Y/n turned around and reentered the room with Reinette and the Doctor. He closed the mirror, realizing it was actually a window instead. He left the other two to do their thing as he turned to the wall, looking at the decorations with a close eye. He felt the need to soak it all in, and whatever the Doctor was doing he didn't actually need Y/n's help, otherwise he would have called him over.

He heard their flirting as the Doctor looked into Reinette's mind, and he rolled his eyes at their antics. That was... until Reinette said something that shocked both of the men in the room. "Oh Doctor, such a lonely childhood." Y/n turned. "So, so lonely. Lonely then, and even lonelier now."

"What are you talking about?" The Doctor asked. "You've never been lonely once in your life." Suddenly he jerked back. "Since when did you start calling me Doctor?"

She just looked back at him. "A door once opened can be stepped through in either direction." She stepped up to him. "Oh Doctor. My lonely Doctor." She was so beautiful, and she looked at him with so much love. She'd said he was lonely... only then did Y/n fully understand Rose's jealousy. Was he not enough? "Dance with me," she asked. Y/n turned and moved away, through the window and into the ship, walking back to the flight deck and to the mantle to cool off. He was suddenly angry, and all that ever did was cloud his mind. The Doctor needed him sharp - feelings couldn't get in the way. How could he ever blame anyone for falling in love with the Doctor? Hadn't he done it himself? His eyes found the mantle, and he drifted toward it, pulling the lever. He ended up in Reinette's room. Or... her old room he supposed. He heard footsteps, many footsteps, and ducked behind a curtain.

Unfortunately for him, it seemed to be a very bad time. The room was being emptied, and it seemed that the mantle was going now. Which meant... there was no way back. He peeked our, trying to think, and was immediately spotted. "Y/n." He looked over in surprise to see Reinette of all people. He slipped out, a stiff smile on his face.

"Hello, Reinette."

She seemed to sense his slight disdain. "I'm sorry for that night. I remember - that was the last time I saw you. I saw you two in his head, and I... well, I didn't realize until later when he was leaving. What it meant, and why you left. I'm very sorry." Y/n slipped his hands in his pockets. The other people in the room seemed to hesitate, but then left when the two seemed casual enough. Only one man stood outside the room in order to give them privacy of sort while also making sure Reinette stayed safe. "Have You two had time to talk? I don't know what happens on your dude of things."

Y/n shook his head. "Back there... there's kind of not much time. I mean, where I come from... well it's a bit complicated."

She looked at the mantle, then back. "Do you need to go soon?"

Y/n sighed. "You broke the connection, and I can't fix it from this side. The Doctor will be here soon I'm sure. Until then, if you want to ask, I'm more than happy to answer. I... I think I need some air. Just a bit maybe."

She smiled. "Wonderful."

Three years. Y/n did not age, as he had long since stopped doing, but Reinette did. The two became very good friends, and she kept him a secret from other people. They got attached to each other, but even if they hadn't it wouldn't have mattered. For some reason The exists that he knew weren't working. He couldn't figure out how to get back onto the ship. So he waited for the Doctor - the long route, just like everyone else. He had to say, he didn't mind it. Sticking by Reinette's side was kind of refreshing. When he drew a line she knew to withdraw, but otherwise they talked about everything - and they especially bonded over their deep feelings for the Doctor.

Over time, Y/n adjusted to life in France. It was odd, and he tried to stay away from people and out of any news or such as much as he could because it all confused him and he was worried about changing too much, but for the most part it was fine. He became Reinette's footman - a thing that had been a bit of scandal for a while, but nothing too big as it had been written off as her secret brother or cousin or something. It was too clear too soon that they weren't lovers, and that was what mattered.

Even Y/n and the King got along. It was the day that the King had asked for his company riding horses that Y/n returned to a frantic Reinette. "Those friends of yours just turned up and said in five years they're returning. The clockwork men. I..." She slouched in disappointment. "You weren't here. I tried the entrance again after they left, but it was suddenly locked like all the others. I- I'm so sorry Y/n, I forgot to tell them about you. There was so much going on-"

"No worries my lady," Y/n dismissed. "This way I'll be right by your side when those things come. It's the best place to be really." He smiled and after a second, so did she.

And so five more years passed.

It had been eight years without the Doctor, and Y/n had matured a lot. He'd been allowed his own room to breathe. Oddly enough, his memories of the TARDIS never faded and he found himself missing the Doctor and Rose and even Mickey. He had found this sort of life nice and refreshing at first, but it was boring now. He had a lot more skills - horse riding and sword fighting and cooking and baking. He had even picked up carving, and had seen lots of history up close and personal. But it wasn't with the two people he loved the most.

There was something that kept him from going back though. A question that stuck stubbornly in the back of his mind.

Did they miss him at all?

Perhaps that wasn't fair. It had been eight years for him, but probably not even an hour for them. A horrible thought occurred to him at one point. They might not have even noticed he was gone yet at all.

That thought was what made him hesitate.

The day came that the clockwork men returned, and Reinette rushed to her mantle to call for the Doctor. When she stood, she turned to Y/n. "What do I do?"

Y/n pressed his lips together. "As the Doctor asked. He will come Reinette, I swear to you. He doesn't break his word. That's not the kind of man he is. He will save you."

She looked at him, noticing easily his wording as they knew each other too well not to notice such vital things. "Will he not rescue you as well? Take you back and await from here?"

Putting his hands in his pockets - a habit he still had, even after all these years - Y/n looked away from her. "May I ask you something? A favor? Something very important to me?"

"Of course," Reinette agreed earnestly.

"When he comes," Y/n began. "Do not tell him of me. Not unless he asks." Reinette was going to argue, but then seemed to see the importance of the second bit and hesitated only a second before nodding. That was when the mechanical men came for her. They took her, and forced Y/n to stay, holding him at needle point in a threat. Reinette assured him that she'd be okay, because the Doctor would come. So Y/b stayed in the room and listened to the door lock, letting him know he was all alone with no way out until this whole thing was over.

So he sat. And he waited.

Until the door opened again, and he ducked for cover just in case. It was not the clockwork men... it was however, the Doctor, who he was just as eager to hide from.

"It's not a replica," Reinette was saying. "It's the exact same one. I had it moved here, and was stern about it being kept in exact detail." She left out the fact that Y/n had suggested it, which made him realize the Doctor had yet to ask about him.

"The fireplace," the Doctor cooed, smiling at the memories the thing brought up. "When did you do this?"

"Many years ago," Reinette answered. "In a hope that a door once opened may be opened again." Y/n pressed into the wall, wishing he could leave. He didn't want to be here for this. "One never quite knows when one needs ones Doctor. Or his friend."

"I'm sorry that Y/n didn't come with me." Y/n tended against the wall. "He was on the other side when I jumped through. Good thing though - he'll be able to get the other two home. So there's that." Wait what?

Reinette hummed in thought. "They are trapped there without at least one of your there?"

The Doctor paused. "Well, yes..."

Without leaving him room to answer, Reinette pressed on. "The mantle appears undamaged. Do you think it'll still work?"

"You broke the bond with the ship when you moved it," the Doctor told her. "Which means it was off line when the mirror broke- probably what saved it. But..." he suddenly moved to the mantle, taking out his screwdriver. It was a sight for sore eyes, and Y/n couldn't handle it. He slipped away, out of the room and away from the Doctor and the mantle and the woman who had become his best friend.

Reinette joined him after a while. "He's gone again, our Doctor." She sighed. "He said he would back in just a moment but..."

"That's The thing with time windows," Y/n sighed. "Time is a fickle thing. Passes different only one side than the other. Seconds to him..."

"Years to us." Reinette nodded. She hesitated a while then turned to Y/n. "Why did you hide? He didn't ask for you because he thinks you're on the ship."

Y/n watched the stars outside, thinking about a life where he'd never see them again. It was a terrible thought. "At first it was jealousy and insecurity. A stupid thing I suppose, but it was meaningful then. The way he loves even people he's just met. The way he loves, but still feels lonely because he refuses himself any joy, even to allow others to love him. It scared me. That say you said he was lonely... you know he shouldn't have been though. He had me, and Rose."

"She won't be around forever," Reinette pointed out.

"But I will." Y/n's voice was raw. "But that wasn't even really the point... I don't know, I just thought- I thought love was a hard thing, so I avoided it for years. It came slow to me - far slower than most people. As much slow to me as it comes fast to the Doctor. I've loved two people my entire life, and now I'm staring eternity in the face with only the possibility of a happy ending with one. And... he's so strange. He's not human, and he's consumed by this loneliness that makes him so hard on the inside. So far away. No matter how far I reach, he is always out of my grasp. I can know, but I do not understand. It puts things between us. I mean- we'd never do well in this life. This slow life. He rarely ever kisses me, and sometimes he ignores me altogether, because he values knowledge above all else and is terrified of love, as much as I used to be." He looked at Reinette again. "What if I'm not meant to be with them? People question my never waning age here, but otherwise I do very well. He would do well without me, just fine. But I will suffer without him. It makes me feel pathetic."

Reinette was quiet a long time. "It is hard for a human to love an angel. I can't imagine playing at having that love returned, never quite sure of how real it is or much it will stick or how long it will last. Playing at a dream, hoping to delay the time until you wake up."

Y/n sighed. "He'll be back one day. Perhaps I will know the answer then."

So they waited, both of them. They waited so long. So many years for such a long time that Reinette died before the Doctor came back. When he did, Y/n stood outside in a suit in the rain, watching the carriage go with her body inside, heading off to be buried. Y/n watched, and he decided that after all these years this was the moment that proved to him all the pain and insecurity and hesitation and not being quite sure was all worth it. The danger didn't matter. Neither did the slight loneliness. Because when one loves an angel, and that glorious being dared attempt to return such affection, even a little bit was worth it. It would be the best love Y/n ever experienced, and that would be enough.

When Y/n came inside, the Doctor was waiting for him. "You've been here all this time?" Y/n nodded. "How long?"

Y/n slipped his hands in his pockets. "I had been here eight years when her 37th birthday. Now she's a little over 40 so... somewhere between ten and twenty years?"

The Doctor hesitated. "Do you prefer it here?"

Y/n looked around. "No." He looked back. "I did have a long time to think though. I... I know a lot about you, Doctor. And you far less so about me. I know that we rushed things, You me and Rose. I understand if you need to take a step back. I don't want you to feel like we have to do anything, or be anything. I-" he sighed. "I don't want you to feel lonely with me around. I just want to be what you wish for, so that you may not feel lonely anymore. Loneliness - it's a terrible feeling."

After a second, the Doctor smiled. "I haven't seen you in so many hours, and for you it's been a decade and a half - give or take. And after all this time, what you've come to realize about your life is that you like this life of ours? Danger and confusion and guessing and all? Me, and my nonsensical ways? You'd chose that over this, and to have it you'd be anything I asked you, even if it meant sacrificing your own feelings?"

"I suppose that's what love is," Y/n shrugged. "Willing to help you be happy, even if it's not with me."

That made the Doctor shake his head, even as he continued giving a small smile. "She told me you were jealous of her. How you were I have no idea. I'd rather have you and Rose at my side any day. Though..." his smile wavered. "I do wish I'd been able to show her just one star up close."

Y/n nodded. "I wish you'd been able to as well."

The Doctor approached Y/n, taking his hand. "So. Back to the TARDIS then?" Y/n nodded. "You can only come if you come as my lover though." He said in with an airy voice, sounding a little like how Reinette used to refer to the King.

It made Y/n chuckle, softly. The fact he could find amusement on such a sorrowful day was quite wonderful. It's what Reinette would have wanted. "Of course, Doctor. I'd have it no other way." So they did go back, and for now, that was the end of it.

Story Tags: @shoochi @e-reads-fics

Male reader tags: @sheepfather

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angst-king · 3 years ago

Text

Seeing red pt 1

(TW mention of sexual exploitation/abuse, ablism, physical and verbal abuse, transphobia, homophobia, emotional abuse, & attempted suicide)

(i will also be using she/her pronouns on Kiri for the first chapter and half of the second chapter) “That was fun, damn you were so good for me tonight kitten.” A soft out of breath voice calls out, the girl quickly grabs her things, slipping her clothes back on and she's almost out the door before the girl on the bed adds. “Hey, money’s on the dresser, take what you want kitten, you did so well~” Her voice purs, taking the money she hurried out the door, and soon out of the apartment complex. Walking the cold dark streets in the chilly night, the girl grabs her phone and calls someone. “H-hello?” Her voice was soft and shaky “hey there Ijima, did you have to ‘go out’ again?” “m-mhm, I d-don’t wanna go home Ashido.” “I know you don’t, just come on over, I’ll get you some clothes okay.” “O-okay, s-see you in a bit Ashi” “See ya Kiri” The two hung up and her steps quickened into a run.

She was so glad the ashido house had always welcomed her, whether it was after school, or late into the night to the ass crack of dawn. Her quiet feet brought her to a familiar street and soon to the house she could finally rest at. She was tired, barely holding herself up shaky legs that were weak from her previous activities. Knocking on the door, she could barely hold herself up, the door had opened just in time. A girl with pink hair and black roots opened the door, she was dressed in her pajamas with a slight look of sleep on her face clouding those bright yellow eyes. “Th-thanks Ashido” She says, hurrying into the house, stumbling. The girl catches her waking up more. “God Kirishima be careful, I’ve got ya, let's get you showered and into some better clothes. Ashido says softly to Kirishima who tries to balance herself but still needs assistance.

“I’ve got ya, now come on, you need a bath hun.” Ashido closes the front door, and leads Kirishima up the stairs and into a bathroom, giving the girl privacy. Ashido found some comfortable clothes for Kirishima.

Kirishima wasn’t in there long seeing as she could hardly stand up straight it was quick but good enough to get the smell of sex, and stickiness of shared bodily fluids. Her hair loosely tied up as she comes out in a towel, Mina hands her the clothes. Kirishima heads back into the bathroom and changes. Coming out once more, she’s shaking but clothed and dry, Mina hated to see her friend so hurt. There was a dull look in those ruby eyes, her lips small and barely able to hold the weight of a smile during a time like this. She was tired, sore, and worst of all, she was numb. She sunk to her knees on the floor in the pink haired girl’s bedroom. She began to shake harder, holding onto herself, fingers tightly gripping her slim biceps. Face towards the floor, only light snivels and whimpers could be heard from the ravenette.

Coming over to comfort the girl, Ashido knelt down and gently pulled her into her loving frame. Flinching, it only took a second before a choked sob erupted and the young Kirishima started to cry. Her body going slack in her friend’s hold as tears rained down from her eyes dampening the shoulder she cried on. All the other could do was rub her back and hold her close and offer advice. There were moments upon moments of quiet sobbing before her words came out in a stammer.

“A-Ashido, I-I wanna die, please.” Her voice pleaded, shaking her head the pink haired teen tried to persuade her. “No Kiri, i’m sorry I can’t let you do that-” “pl-please, just give me a bottle of pills, cough syrup, a knife, something! Please Mina! Let me die already!!” She exclaimed, pressing her friend into allowing her to silence her inner demons. “Shhh Kiri, I’m sorry I know you do but, I can’t let you do that please, we’re gonna get you help, i know you need it, but we still gotta figure out a way to do that. Just hang in there please, you’re safe with me.” All Kirishima could do was nod and cry till she fell asleep.

Morning came and Kirishima was soon returned back home against their will yet she knew she couldn’t stay with the Ashidos forever. She already felt like a burden to them for having to come to them for food and clothes and even comfort or a place to escape. Walking up to the door, she knocked and waited for the door to be unlocked. A soft jingle jangle came and the door opened, stepping in she saw her mother smiling. “Finally you’re home, so how’d it go hun, did ya have fun?” She asked excitedly, the memories of the night before made her queasy to think about so she shook her head. “M-mom please I-I need to go lay down, I don’t feel good.” Frowning, the woman closes the door, rolling her eyes. “Oh please Ijima stop that, you’re fine, you’re always saying that or doing that stupid thing where you fall and pretend to have a seizure. I know you’re just doing it for attention.” Ijima sighed, rubbing her temples. “I’m not faking seizures for attention, why can’t you just believe me?” That earned her a harsh shove into the wall behind her, piercing red eyes glaring into scared ones that were once dull a second ago but now filled with fear. “Because I said so! Because I don’t have to believe you, I am the parent and you are MY child!” The more she spoke the louder Ijima’s mother’s voice got to the point of yelling. Ijima began to cower and shake from terror. “Honestly Ijima you have all of these stupid ‘problems’ like your ‘epilepsy’ or you saying you want to be a boy. Do you really think anyone’s gonna love a retarted tranny?!!” The slurs hurt but her phrases hurt the worst “Do you honestly think someone’s gonna wanna take care of you? No one is going to love you like that, no one wants someone like that! Get that through your head!” Her last words, Ijima was grabbed by her hair and her head was repeatedly bashed against the wall. Each slam made her feel weaker and weaker.

Dropping to her knees, Ijima went limp on the floor, the pounding radiated through her skull, causing her hands to tremble but she forced herself to silently walk up to her room. Each step, she wants to cry but biting her lip is the only thing keeping her from letting the floodgates break. She could feel her mind filling with static so she’d better hurry her pace, or if she didn’t she wouldn’t know what hit her.

Once in her own room, she let go, her entire being was weak. She collapsed with a thud onto the floor. Tensed and tight her body spasmed and jerked, eyes rolling back, she was defenseless and unable to do anything if anyone were to find her with plans in their head. Luckily her mother decided to leave her be for the time being. She’d wake up feeling sick, her body sore and tired, her vision gone. She was vulnerable and she hated it, unable to speak properly, ask for help, or even think of it. Who would help her anyway, it's not like she couldn’t do it herself. It took a bit of trying but she’d manage to get herself up right and into bed, which would lead to sleeping the day away or laying in bed until the nausea got worse enough to get sick.

When she woke up, she had no idea as to where she was. Her vision black, her skin was ice cold, and her stomach was sloshing queasily. Even without knowing her surroundings she forced herself to move. She stretched uncomfortably, her body was sore and achy from the seizure. Once she had stretched, she scooted her way around her room until she found her bed. Blindly searching the climbing up into her bed to lay down. It was exhausting and not to mention her nightly activities from the day before still left her exhausted. She ended up going back to sleep, she wanted to sleep away her days, she hated waking up. She hated opening her eyes and would sometimes pretend to be ‘out’ longer after a seizure just so people would leave her alone but. That didn’t always work, sometimes she would actually have another seizure, or someone would try and hurt her. Mainly the girls at school, they would just watch her convulse on the floor, step on her, take pictures or videos and post them around the school, or just gossip about her in general. Ijima wished she never had to wake up, and those urges grew stronger and stronger with each day until.

Today. She’d slept through yesterday but even now she felt horrible. Her vision hadn’t returned fully yet, it was spotty and blurry. She wasn’t mentally awake yet either, she had such horrible brain fog she could hardly register the screaming coming from outside her bedroom door. It was too late and in came her screaming mother. “IJIMA YOU CAN HEAR ME I KNOW YOU’RE AWAKE!” Ijima flinched, her eyes weren’t adjusting as quickly as she’d like and neither was her brain. Even though the screaming woke her up as the woman came barging in towards her. “WHY THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN IGNORING ME?!! I CALLED YOUR NAME SO MANY TIMES, YOU OVERSLEPT AND YOU’RE LATE FOR SCHOOL AND DON’T GIVE ME THIS ‘I HAD A SEIZURE' BULLSHIT CAUSE YOU’RE JUST A LYING BITCH WANTING ATTENTION!” The screaming scared her into a panic, she hated screaming, especially when her vision wasn’t right. If her vision was faulty her hearing would pick up the slack and so did every other sense. It made every sound more pronounced to the point where she could feel the venom in her mother’s words. Ijima was shaking as tears unknowingly ran down her face, she only knew this when she pointed it out. “Oh stop acting like this you brat, you’re so pitiful Emma left because of you. She didn’t want someone like you! She’d still be here if you weren’t so selfish!” A pillow was shoved over her face and held there but that didn’t muffle Ijima’s hearing. Ijima although used to hearing her mother say this, always hurt deep inside and the woman knew that. Emma was Ijima’s other mom, Emma joined the military a little after Ijima had started showing signs of epilepsy which only made Ijima more inclined to believe what the other woman known as Ito had told her. It was always a reminder, Ijima always felt responsible for Emma’s leaving but also felt betrayal and pain that no one would love her. Her own mother left her to join the military in order to avoid taking care of her. “Just go, get ready for school” Ito said coldly, getting up and releasing the pillow that suffocated Ijima. Ijima did her best to rise on her feet, steadying herself on the floor as her mother left her to get ready.

Ijima did her usual routine even when she’d had epileptic episodes that left her still rather disoriented. Though while in the bathroom a little voice in her head spoke to her. ‘Get those tums and take ‘em at school, see how many you can take before you die?’ With the suggestion she went through her medicine cabinet which really only held a bottle of tums, extra toothbrushes and toothpaste. Ijima grabbed the tums and snuck them into her bag before continuing her routine. She skipped breakfast. On her way to school, she always stopped by Mina’s house knocking on the door, it isn’t long before the pink haired girl appears. “Hey there Kiri!” Ijima didn’t bother to make a smile, she couldn’t, the weight of it was too heavy for those weak lips. Her hands were shaky, and her eyes were dead on the outside but if you looked deep enough you could see the pain. Ijima was quieter than usual, all she did was pretend to listen to Mina talk about gossip, magazines, typical girl things that she always spoke of. Ijima wasn’t truly listening, she was spacing out, her mind was filled with static but also the obsession of death. She didn’t want to live any longer and she’d take any out she could. Maybe if she downed the entire bottle of tums it’ll be enough to kill her? Though if another opportunity presented itself to her, she’d take it. She couldn’t stand being on this earth any longer. She couldn’t stand being around girls, they were deceptive, deceitful, demanding, cold, and selfish. The only girl she could trust was Mina, Mina always proved to Ijima that she was a loyal friend. Mina was actually the only one who treated Ijima well. Even though she had met some bad men or boys, awful girls or women were a lot more prominent in her life. Ijima was done with it, why should she have to suffer due to her mother’s ideologies?!

As they made their way to school they had to cross busy streets that were filled with cars rushing to their destinations. When Ijima got an impulsive thought ‘jump into traffic’ She could hear the cars coming and would Mina even be able to stop her in time? And would the car even stop in time? She’d have to time it just right. The cross walk was still being held up as the car zoomed down the lane when Ijima saw a truck coming barrelling down the street. Her mind raced yet was clouded by multiple loud ones that screamed ‘DO IT! JUMP!’.’DO IT YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT’ ‘YEAH DO IT, NO ONE’S GONNA MISS YOU!’ ‘FINALLY AN ESCAPE, YOU CAN’T FAIL NOW!’ ‘DO IT! JUMP’ The truck was getting closer and Ijima didn’t even fight the voices.

Everything was a blur, a scream and sickening thud and crunch. Then it went black.

Waking up to a loud beeping sound, Ijima’s eyes struggled to open and adjust to the bright lights and whiteness of the hospital. The brightness was blinding to her eyes as they’d been used to the dark for some time now. Eyes looking around, they’re met with white walls, white sheets, white bandages wrapped around her wrists and even around some of her torso. As she became more and more awake, Ijima started to feel the pain. It was a dull aching pain, but it wasn’t just physical. Oh no this was mental. Sure her ribs had been cracked, she sustained a mild concussion, lacerations from the truck, and had a few seizures. The mental pain was way worse, she didn’t want to wake up today, she didn’t wanna wake up ever! She didn’t want to make it, this wasn’t her goal to wake up in a hospital! She wanted to be dead! Gone, away from the hell her mother puts her through even if she deserves it! ‘Why?! Why couldn’t they just leave me for dead!??’ She thought to herself as tears welled up in her eyes. Everything was building up at once, her emotions filled her even if she still felt numb to some extent she finally screamed as her emotions spilled like an overflowing sink.

“Why! Why couldn’t you all just let me fucking die!?!! PLEASE JUST KILL ME!” Even with her voice breaking between her words it was loud enough to be heard from out the door. Grabbing harshly at her long black hair, tangling it between her fingers tightly with white knuckle gripping. She cried, sobbed more like it. It was so overwhelming to try and find another way to just end it as she wanted her life to be over so badly. She wanted to bleed out on the floor and never wake up again. Her eyes darted around but she noticed that the only thing in the room was her bed, the vitals machine, and an IV pole with a line or two or fluids that were connected to Ijima. Seeing the bandages around her arms she unravels them revealing several lacerations that were still rather fresh looking. With her sharp shark-like teeth, she raises an arm towards her lips, opens her mouth and chomps down as hard as she could. Blood floods her mouth like an ocean flooding the tidal pools of its beach. The taste of Iron coats her tongue, discolor’s her teeth, and drips down her lips escaping to splatter onto her blue hospital gown. Hearing the screams, a nurse came to check up on Ijima who was horrified to witness Ijima’s desperate method of self harm. She ran to get a doctor when Ijima detached her mouth from her arm. Blood pouring and adding to the small drips and splatters on her gown. Large splatters of the crimson fluid painted the blue gown discoloring it to a somewhat purple hue. When the nurse urgently returned with a doctor and another nurse the doctor was just as surprised!

First they had to tie Ijima down, placing straps over her to keep her from trying anything else.

While she was being strapped down the doctor and a nurse worked to repair Ijima’s arm, she tried to fight them but in the end she was immobilized. Tired of fighting the doctor all she could do was cry and mutter about why couldn’t they just let her die. The process of actually fixing her arm was a little extensive. They had to stop the bleeding, then see how far the damage went before deciding on what they’d have to do. Even though she didn’t break any bones, the doctor decided to cast both her arms to keep her from trying to bite herself again. She ended up being put to sleep this time.

#my psych academia #kiribakupsychward #abused Kirishima #transkirishima #epiletic Kirishima

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yikesharringrove · 5 years ago

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ok so i just had a dream about this and i feel the need to tell you because its prime protective Billy shit. So after the whole mind flayed thing Steve and Billy get to be pretty close friends, and almost immediately they both fall for each other HARD, but both of them refuse to believe the other could ever like them, despite Robin screaming at both of them to just ask the other one out already. (pt.)

(pt.2) one day some random dude comes into the video store and starts flirting with steve, who figures he hasn’t gone on a date since Nancy, the guys cute, sure he’s not Billy but he seems nice enough and steve is also just very lonely, so they set up a date for that Friday at 6:00 and Steve is pretty excited. When he gets to his house and tells Billy, who was there for their wednesday horror movie night, billy tried to seem happy for him even though he ready to kill this guy

(pt.3) Billy does a pretty decent job at hiding his feelings about the date, and he doesn’t want to hold Steve back, but when he gets home he calls Robin and bitches for a sold 30 minutes, she just tells him if he’d got his shit together and just asked Steve our this wouldn’t be a problem. So the day of the date rolls around and Billy doesn’t see Steve all day, can’t bring himself to see him so excite to go date someone else. Around 6:15 his phone buzzes with a call from Steve (pt.4) he answers and when he does Steve sounds awful, he’s been crying for a while. Asks if Billy can come pick him up, and billy speeds his way there. When he shows up and sees steve leaning against the brick wall rubbing away tears he loses it. Asks him what happened and Steve quietly tells him his date was a huge asshole, flirted with the waitress, pointed out the scar on steve’s hairline and told him he’d be a lot cuter without it, but don’t worry you’re still good enough for a fuck

(pt.5) Billy is ready to kill someone, he hugs steve and drags him to his car and tells him to stay put, slams the door and gets inside before steve can argue, find the guys pretty quickly, grabs him by the collar and spits out some pretty harsh words drops him to the floor and leaves. They are both quiet on the drive back but when billy drops steve off at his house he sheepishly asks him to stay, when billy tells him it’s a bad idea steve says okay and kisses him goodnight. Billy almost faints.

I am SO SORRY this took a thousand years, it got a lil lost in my inbox.This is modern, Billy got possessed but the kids burned it outta him, everything else is canon.

“Who the fuck is that?”

Billy was “helping” Robin re-shelve, which meant he was pulling random movies off their shelves and putting them in different spots until she noticed and yelled at him.

She looked in the direction Billy was glaring, looked to see Steve batting his eyes as that guy, the tall jocky guy that comes in a few days a week to flirt with Steve.

“Oh, that’s Ben. He comes in all the time and flirts with Steve.” Billy’s eyes were dark.

“And does Steve, does he always, flirt back?” Robin rolled her eyes. Billy was so bad at acting nonchalant.

“Yeah, Dingus really has a thing for him. Talks to me nonstop about him.” Of course he talks about Billy way more often, but Robin is over the two of them being so fucking oblivious.

“Oh. Good for him.” Billy was blinking a lot.

Steve was leaning over the counter, was giggling like a schoolgirl.

The bell over the door jingled. Billy was gone.

Wednesday nights had become a tradition. Billy and Robin would come over to Steve’s, would take turns picking scarier and scarier movies.

It all started because Robin thought Steve should expand his horizons, and Billy liked the way Steve would get scared, would hide in Billy, would shove his face into his chest, or his arm, or wiggle his way into his lap.

But he was not in the mood for a movie tonight. Not after watching the way Steve had gone all bashful earlier.

But he found himself pushing open the double doors anyway.

“Bill! Guess what!” Steve was jamming around the kitchen in thick socks and little shorts, a faded Hawkins High Swim Team sweatshirt, and his glasses, like he was trying to fucking kill Billy with how adorable he is. “I got a date!” Billy’s heart thumped to a stop.

“You, you what?”

“I got a date! With that cute Benny that comes into Family Video. He asked me out! We’re gonna go to dinner on Friday!” Steve was so fucking excited. Billy couldn’t find it within himself to bring down the mood. “I just, you know how lonely I’ve been, and, I haven’t been on a date since Nancy.”

Steve was rambling, going on and on about this fucking guy. Was talking over the movie, which normally, Billy would think was kinda cute, but it was all, Benny said the SWEETEST thing, or look at this meme Benny sent.

Billy was about four second from tearing his hair out.

He was driving Robin home after movie night needed to vent.

“Look, I’m not saying I want Steve to be unhappy. I want him to be so happy. But I just, I get a bad feeling about that Benjamin guy.” Robin rolled her eyes.

“Well if you had gotten your head outta your ass and just asked Steve out like I fucking told you to, you, Billiam could be going on a date with our sweet Dingus.”

“I just, after everything this summer, I didn’t know if, if he was ready, and he never really seemed the same after the Nancy shit.”

“That’s a lame excuse and you know it.”

It was. And he knew it.

He avoided Steve the next two days. Couldn’t deal with all the excited posts on Steve’s secret Insatgram account, the one just for his friends.

Apparently he had done a face mask, had taken a fucking candlelit bath. He posted outfit options on his story.

Billy spent Friday chain-smoking in bed, yelling at Max whenever he got kicked off Netflix for too many screen in use.

Steve was getting picked up at 6. Had been posting a fucking countdown on his story. Billy wanted to crawl into a hole and fucking die.

When 6 came, Billy was working out, listening to loud, angry music as he lifted weights. He was trying his fucking best to keep his mind off of Steve, that fucking Benjamin.

But his music was interrupted by his phone going off, Steve’s contact picture filling the screen, a silly one Billy loved of Robin shoving marshmallows into his mouth. He could fit 17.

“What’s up?” It was only half past 6. Something must’ve happened. “Stevie, are you okay?” He could hear Steve sniffling.

“Bill, could you come pick me up?”

Billy was already out the door.”

“Drop your location, Pretty Boy. I’m on my way right now. Don’t move. I’ll be there soon.” Billy sped to the diner.

He saw Steve sitting on the curb outside, his face buried into his knees.

He had gone with outfit option number 4 from his Instagram, a thick cardigan, made of soft dark green wool, his nice jeans, the ones that made his ass look great, and a soft t-shirt. His hair was the most done Billy had seen it in a while. It made Billy’s heart break.

He pulled into a spot, dropping to sit next to Steve.

“You wanna talk about it?” His eyes were red-rimmed, glazed over as he loked at Billy.

“He was, he was so different from how he, how he was. He kept ignoring me, and flirting with the waitress, and he kept like, pointing out the scars on my face, like, like the one here,” he poked at his hairline. “And he said, I’d cuter without it, but, but that I’m still okay for a fuck if he took me face down, because, because my ass is the only thing I got goin’ for me-” Billy pulled him into a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry, Baby. You’re so much better than that, than him.” He kissed the mark on Steve’s hairline. “He still in there?”

“Yeah. I asked him to take me home and he said if I was gonna give him blueballs he might as well fuck the waitress. Since she’s hotter than me anyhow.”

“Stay here.” Billy got up, cracking his neck as he walked into the diner. He found the guy right away, was smiling so sleazy at the waitress in question who looked like she’d rather die than go out with him, but needed a good tip. He stared at her ass when she walked away.

Billy sat in the seat across from his.

“So, Benjamin. Figured you and I ought the have a little chat.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“My name’s Billy.” Ben rolled his eyes.

“God, Steve wouldn’t shut the fuck up about you.” Billy’s heart swelled, but he was on a mission.

“Steve is the best person in this whole God-forsaken world. And you dare treat him like he’s shit on your shoe. You’re fucking disgusting.” He reached up, pulling on the collar of his shirt, slamming his nose into the table, letting his head bounce back up.

“What the fuck, you psycho.”

“He is like sunshine, he is the only thing good in this fucking town, and you have the audacity to hurt him. He is made of love, and you could;ve had him, but you’re a garbage human who deserves jack shit.” He stood from the table, Ben’s nose bleeding into a mad of napkins.

“If you don’t at least text him an apology, I will be breaking more than just your nose.”

Billy stood up, sweeping out of the diner to find Steve waiting by the passenger seat of his car. They drove to Steve’s in silence apart from the odd sniffle from Steve.

They sat for a moment in his drive way, the car off, crickets chirping in the bushes.

“I heard what you said.” Steve’s eyes were wide, his face shadowed.

“And?”

“I didn’t know you felt like that. About me I mean.” Billy sighed.

“Stevie, you are probably the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And I, I love you.” Billy was fidgeting with the steering wheel.

“You mean it?” Billy just nodded, looking straight ahead through the windshield at Steve’s house. “I love you too. Like, a lot. I just thought, maybe you didn’t, didn’t feel the same.” Billy whipped around to look at Steve, see if he was lying.

All he say on his face was such happiness at Billy’s admission.

“You should stay the night.” Steve’s hand was closing around his wrist.

“Look, if we’re gonna do this, I wanna do it right. I wanna, take you out, and spend time with you in a, in a romantic way before we, before we do anything.” Steve’s eyes were so soft.

“Okay. You wanna go out tomorrow? We can do something chill, like, like see a movie.”

“I would really like that, Pretty Boy.” He took Steve’s hand.

“Can I kiss you goodnight, then? Kiss you thanks for saving me back there. Being my knight in shining armor, defending my honor and all that?” Billy’s mind was spinning as he breathed out yeah.

Kissing Steve was as perfect as he always thought it would be.

His pretty lips were soft, and he made these breathy little noises into Billy’s mouth, their hands were still clasped together, Steve’s other holding onto Billy’s bicep, Billy weaving a hand into Steve’s hair.

Steve’s eyes were closed when they pulled apart, they were soft when he blinked them open.

“So, tomorrow then.” Billy grinned, pressing a kiss to his nose.

“Tomorrow, Pretty Boy. I’ll call you in the morning. We’ll talk.” Steve danced like a loser all the way up to his porch, making Billy laugh and flash his headlights. He stumbled through the front door.

Billy texted Robin right when he got home, sent her a simple Benjamin’s the worst but you’ll be happy to know I pulled my head outta my ass :)

#yikes writes #harringrove #steve harrington #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove fic #harringrove drabble #harringrove ficlet

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sincerlypadfoot · 4 years ago

Text

Comfort And Death (6) (Part 2)

~After the death of Regulus Black, you take confinement in Sirius who cared for you like a sister after Reguas died, becoming each other's person, you stay at the black house, after having a hard time griefing one night, you go to the place Regulas died.

Word Count-2246

Send Requests Here

Warning - Underage drinking! Swearing!

December 24th 1994

“Dinner looked wonderful Molly,” I smiled walking into the kitchen behind Fred and George who looked more sober than hunger. Sirius stood beside me sucking on his breath mint.

“Thank you dear, sit down,” Molly pulled out the closest chairs near us for Sirius and I. “Dinner she'll be served,” With a wave of her fingers plates of chilli appeared in the air, floating down and landing infront of everyone.

“I would like to make a toast,” Harry said standing up and lifting his glass of water out. “To the triwizard tournaments, and the numbness that comes with it!” little cheers came from his friends making me let out a low laugh. “To the people who raised me,”

Everyone looked over at Sirius, Remus and I who let out a smile, looking around the room, I grabbed my wine glass in confinement.

“Cheers,” I broke lifting my glass of wine up, the room filled with the sound of glass hitting another and people enjoying themselves. “I hope everyone has a wonderful time tonight,”

We all sat back down, digging into the food Molly made, I ran my fingers under the table as I finished, spinning my ring around my finger, almost feeling guilty.

“I might toss the white flag in, i’m getting a bit tired,” I admitted to Sirius and Remus, not letting Harry overhear.

“Nonsense Stella, I have almost never seen you let loose and you’re in a great deal of it please, one night and that's it,” Sirius said grabbing my hand, his slipped the ring off, I went to react but remembering we were in a room full of people. “For one night, don’t let his death burden you, smile,”

I let out a fake smile taking a sip of my win and finishing up the food that laid infront of me. Everyone finished eating at the same time.

“Well you take care of our children for the night, I trust Stella and Remus, you two will take care of the kids for the night,” Molly seemed the be released. “Arthur and I haven’t had a night of the house empty in almost twenty-five years,”

“We will take very good care of them Molly, you and Arthur have fun tonight, we will see you tomorrow for christmas,” Remus said standing up, he walked Molly and Arthur out, not a second later Sirius pulled out bottles of Firewhisky from under the table and smirked.

“Anyone ready to party?” He asked, cheering came from all around the room. Everyone moved into the living room, Remus shortly joining us and sitting beside me.

“And Sirius wondering why Molly doesn’t like him,” Remus whispered in my ear as we watched Sirius mix fire whisky into Langston Cream Soda, it was Sirius’ favorite mixture.

“Yeah well, i’d rather know that Harry is a responsible drinking, not going out and drinking without us knowing,” I whispered back at Remus.

“And for the lady and gentleman,” Sirius smiled holding out to cups infront of him. “Have fun, let loose, relax,”

Remus grabbed his drink first, I copied, Sirius walked away.

“Look at you,” Fred Weasley said moving beside me. “Cheers,” He smirked, I rolled my eyes lifting up my drink, both our glasses hit each other and we took a drink. “You know I like your eyes,”

“Fred Weasley,” Remus said looking at him, I let out a laugh leaning against the couch. “Don’t be flirting with someone half your age,”

“Yeah Freddie, you know she likes me anyways,” George said moving and sitting beside Remus, I rolled my eyes and stood up.

“I’m going to the bathroom, don’t have to much fun without me,” I said to Remus walking out of the room, Sirius caught my eyes but I continued to walk out, almost running up the stairs and locking the door once I got into the bathroom.

My drink landed on the counter as both my hands leaned into the sink, I looked down then up at myself in the mirror, my makeup was smudged from crying and my face a reck.

“Unbelievable,” I whispered to myself, picking up my brush and brushing out my hair, my hair had turned almost back with rage, I pushed it back, ignoring the thing I dreaded in myself, forgetting it years ago. I put my hair up only halfway, leaving some of my black hair to hang at the back on my shoulders. I fixed up my makeup and refreshed myself.

“Are you okay in there?” Remus asked knocking on the door, I picked up my drink, finishing it off and unlocking the door.

“Better than I could ever be, I just needed to fix my makeup,” I let a fake smile out looking down at my cup. “I need a refill come on,” I started walking out the door but Remus grabbed me, pulling me back from the stairs.

“Do not listen to Sirius tonight, you be yourself, don’t change because Sirius thinks you need to let loose okay,” Remus said almost making me upset. “You are okay Stella, and we’re all here for you,”

I let out a low laugh and shook my head. “I know that Remus, I just do think Sirius is right, it’s been almost nineteen years, I need to forget about it,” I moved myself away from Remus and walked down the stairs.

“Stella your back,” Sirius cheerfully said wrapping his arms around me.

“The nights only started and your already as drunk as a cow,” I said as he held me tight.

“Yep, come on, your turn,” Sirius let go of me, grabbing my hand and placing me on the couch, he took the cup out of my hand and filled it back up, handing it back, I felt dropped of my drink land on my clothes but at that moment I didn’t care.

“Auntie Stella,” Harry smiled, walking across the room and sitting down beside me. “Thanks for letting us party, I really do appreciate it,”

“Cheers Harry, i’m glad you asked for a party, I needed it,” I raised my drink up in the air, we both hit our glasses together and drinking up.

Remus walked in, he gave me a quick glance but looked away once music started to by.

“Remus love, dance with me,” Sirius shouted taking Remus hand. I watched the two, I watched as Ron and Hermione stared dancing, then Neville and Ginny.

“Care to dance?” Fred Weasley asked standing infront of me. Harry let out a laugh and stood up, walking away from us.

“This means nothing Fred Weasley,” I took his hand, placing my drink on the table and walking to the middle of the room.

“You know, I know you're like really older than me, but I digger the older woman,” Fred shouted making me smile.

“I don’t date Fred, bad history,” I shouted over the music, knowing it could be as loud as we liked since the muggles didn’t even know we were here.

“Well lucky for you, I like a reset,”

“You really don’t give up, do you?” I asked letting my hair loose, my black hair was now a bit longer then the bathroom. Magic really was getting the best of me at the moment.

“Not with pretty woman like you, at least give me a chance,” Fred asked, my attention left him as the music stopped, Remus and Sirius were laughing, Harry was dancing with Ginny now and Neville, Dean, and Cedric were chatting on the couch.

“I think your a little to young for me, sixteen year old and a thirty-two year old,” I whispered patting his shoulder and sitting back down on the couch, I finished my second drink and leaned back, closing my eyes.

“Don’t be a mood killer Stella, come on, dance,” Sirius said standing infront of me. “Please,” He peaked his bottom lip out.

“Fine,” I grabbed Sirius hand, shaking my hand and standing up. “You know, I think Regulas would love Harry, he would love all of this,”

“Don’t talk about my brother right now, forgetting about him for one night, please,” Sirius asked making me annoyed.

“He was your brother how could you say that,” Tension rose along the room.

“It’s been nineteen years Stella, he would hate seeing you like this,” Sirius shot back shaking his head.

“Yeah like you would know, you hated him for most of the years,” I spit turning around, I grabbed a bottle of fire whisky and stormed out of the room, running up the stairs, to the end up the hall, last door on the left and shutting myself in, falling once again to the ground.

“For fuck sakes!” I screamed leaning my head back and crying. I stood up and walked over to the wall, bashing my fists against the bricks, unsure how many times I did it, until my knuckles were bloody and bruising.

“Are you okay?” I heard behind me, I turned around in a rush, looking at Fred who stood at the doorway. “I’m not sure what happened down there but I just thought I should come check on you,”

“I’m fine Fred,” I mumbled whipping my tears away. “Sirius and I get a little too carried away with our words, it’s normal, its okay,”

“What did the wall ever do to you?” Fred asked making me let out a low laugh in between sobs. “Come on, George does this all the time, I can fix your knuckles up,”

I followed Fred out of the room, he opened the bathroom door and we both walked in, I placed myself on the sink, taking a long drink of the firewhiskey bottle I held.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Fred asked running a cloth under the water. “You don’t have to if you don’t want,”

“I dated a boy, since we were in hogwarts together, his name was Regulas Black, Sirius brother.” I paused flinching in pain as Fred pressed the cloth against my right hand. “He died in 1979, and Sirius thinks I should be over it by now, but I just can’t,”

“I didn’t know, i’m sorry” Fred said lowly removing the cloth from my hand. “You’ve broken some bones, your whole hand in fact,”

“Honestly, I deserved it,” I leaned back against the mirror, taking another drink from the bottle. “Do you wanna a drink?” I asked looking at Fred, I moved myself a bit so Fred could jump up on the counter beside me.

“Thanks,” Fred took the bottle out of my hand and took a drink. “Do you still love him?”

“Regulas?” I paused looking at Fred. “Of course I do, and I think that's the problem, i’d feel guilty if i’d ever get with someoen else, like he’ll know,”

“I mean, a kiss wouldn’t hurt, it’s not illegal here,” Fred said making me smile, “Maybe it’ll help?” I turned my head and looked at Fred, my head was spinning and my body felt out of control.

“A kiss wouldn’t hurt,” I whispered leaning in, as the both of us were inches away from each other, the doorknob turned and I pulled back, looking at the door, Remus walked in with a bottle in his hand.

“I’ve looked all over for you, we’re just getting the party started, come back downstairs,” Remus said almost yelling.

“I think that's a good idea,” I grabbed the bottle from Fred and jumped off the counter. “Come on, the party is just getting started,” I looked back at Fred who had a smile on his face.

“You’re right,” The three of us walked back downstairs to see Sirius and Neville longbottom dancing, which made me smile, imagining him and Frank dancing in the common room on a cold night.

The night went on, everyone slowly making their way into different rooms, Remus and I almost to drunk to be responsible placed everyone in different rooms.

“Tonight was fun,” I whispered leaning against the hallway walls with a half empty fire whisky bottle.

“It was, it really was,” Remus said smiling, leaning beside me. Sirius walked out of the bathroom, whipping his mouth and smile. “You good there Padfoot?”

“Never better, come on, I hear our bed calling our name!” Sirius grabbed Remus’ hand, dragging him away. I smiled looking at my bedroom door, I walked in to George Weasley passed out on my bed.

“How did you get in here?” I whispered walking in, I grabbed my blanket, tossing it over his body and walked out of my room, downstairs to the couch.

“What are you doing?” I heard as I walked in, I looked at the corner of the room, Fred was laying on the couch.

“What are you doing, why aren’t you in a room?” I asked sitting down on the couch across from him.

“I don’t think I could move off the couch, my whole body feels like jello,” Fred said making me chuckle.

“Well at least let me put a blanket over you, you look cold,” I pushed myself off the couch, almost falling but held myself up, grabbing the blanket from behind me and placing it on Fred.

“What are you going to sleep with?” He asked as I covered his body up.

“I’ll manage, if you need anything i’ll be roaming around the house,” I went to go walk away from Fred but he grabbed my wrist.

“Please stay with me,” Fred whispered, I nodded my head, sitting down beside him. “Regulas would have wanted you to move on,”

“I know,” I ran my hands threw Fred hair as he moved his hand onto my lap.

“Kiss me,” Fred whispered looking up at me, I looked down at him.

“No, I don’t think I will,” I leaned down planting a kiss on his forehead. “Thank you for understanding what I have to do,”

#RegulasBlack #Regulas Black #Regulas Black x y/n #Regulas Black x you #Regulas Black x oc #FredWeasley #SiriusBlack #RemusLupin

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abbyilr1967 · 5 years ago

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The Fear Of Losing You

Summary: You and your boyfriend Jake are assigned a drug bust case and while on your stakeout things go wrong, and now Jake has 24 hours to get you back.

Warnings: kidnapping, blood (not really gore), angst, little bit of fluff

Word Count: 2,100ish.

You and Jake have both arrived at the precinct early Monday morning. This is crazy because before you and Jake started to date he always arrived ten minutes late or more. You settled down at your desk to do your paperwork while Jake was goofing around using his pencil as a mustache. It ultimately fails and his pencil falls to the floor causing you to giggle at his misfortune.

“Y/l/n, Peralta, my office please,” Captain Holt asks of you

You and Jake give each other a questioning look because you have both never been called into his office together. Not since Holt told both of you that he wouldn’t pair you up on cases because he was concerned you would goof off or lose focus.

“Please shut the door,” Holt asks once you’ve entered.

“The reason I’ve called you in here is that the Major Crimes Unit has asked that both go undercover as a couple looking to buy and sell drugs to befriend them so that we can take down one of the biggest drug families in New York,” Holt states firmly.

Jake looks to you with a wide grin and you know he is thinking of something witty to say in response.

“Now usually I wouldn’t have paired you together, but the Unit asked for both of you specifically. So it out of my control,”

“It’soutofmycontroltitleofyoursextape,” Jake replies as fast as he can.

“Thank you Sir, we won’t let you down,” is your civil response as you grab Jake by the arm and pull him out of Holt’s office.

“Y/n can you believe we got a case together!” Jake says excitedly while wrapping his arms around you. He lifts you up and spins around before dropping you back to the floor.

“I know,” you start, “it’s amazing but we have to take this seriously if we can show Holt that we can work together without getting distracted he might put us on more cases together,” you say pulling away from his hug to sit back at your desk.

“Right, this is James Thunderstone, very serious detective,” Jake replies in his best British accent, which receives a giggle from you.

Jake and you have been preparing for your first stakeout to get an idea of what you’ll be walking into. You both have for duffles full of the essentials like weapons, snacks, and some blankets in case it gets cold. You and Jake had been stationed on top of a building close to the drop-off and exit warehouse for the drugs.

You had already been on the roof for three hours and there was nothing, so you and Jake had decided to pass the time by seeing who could catch the most peanuts in their mouth in a row when you both hear the sound of something rustling below. Jake and you both instantly grab your guns and peer over the side of the building to scope out the area. It takes you a minute before you spot a black van. You and Jake watch patiently while the doors of the van open to reveal a person with a bag over their head.

That all you need to start to run towards to stairs when Jake grabs your arm.

“We aren’t supposed to interfere with them, it could blow are cover,” He whisper shouts at you.

“I can’t just let them hurt that person,” You say before wiggling out od his grasp and sprinting towards the starts while Jake chases after you.

You are all the way down the stair and out the door before Jake can stop you. You sneak up behind the van and wait for the clear. When you have an opening you run into the warehouse. Jake is following closely behind you because God knows he wouldn’t want you to get hurt.

“Y/n lets go, they left,” He says. You have already started to wander your way through the corridor of shelves and boxes.

You let out a defeated sign before you turn around to face your boyfriend and leave the warehouse before you’ve blown our cover. When you are met with a very tall man dressed in all black.

“Y/n Go!” Jake shouts as you both begin to run in the other direction, to again be met with another large man dressed in all black. They have you trapped between them, the large man behind you clapped one hand over your mouth and one around your stomach. The same was happening to Jake, you both were struggling against these two men while they are pulling you in the opposite direction.

“Y/n!” you could hear Jake screaming for you, but you couldn’t see him anymore. The large man had brought you back to the black van, and before throwing you in his colleagues put a big black bag over your head and cuffed your wrists together with your own cuffs. Shoving you inside the van you get squished between two people so there is no chance of your escape.

Jakes POV

He kept screaming for Y/n as best he could until the large man who had his hold on him bashed his head against the side of a wall. This gave Jake a major headache, and probably a concussion, while this was all happening Jake could hear the screech of a car and the popping of a trunk, and before his brain could comprehend what was happening he was being thrown into the trunk of a car, and driven to God knows where.

When He came to he found himself by the dumpster in some alleyway in downtown Brooklyn. When he tries to get up his head pounds and he groans in response.

“Shit,” he says. He pulls out his phone and calls Terry.

“Sergeant Jeffords,”

“Sarge it’s Jake,” He groans as he tries to take a breath and realizes he might have a broken rib.

“I need some help,” he says trying not to break down.

“Where are you? are you ok?” a concerned Terry says.

“I’m fine and I’m on the corner of Fulton and Jay street,” He sighs. “Terry… something really bad happened,” Jake says trying to hold back a sob.

“Boyle is on his way to get you, Jake, just stay on the line with me and breathe, Ok?”

It takes Terry telling him to breathe for him to realize he hasn’t, and he starts hyperventilating.

“Calm down Jake, it’s going to be fine,” Terry says

“You don’t know that they could do anything to her,” he says between breaths.

“Who Jake, Who?” Terry asks.

“Y/n,”

Readers POV

When you woke up the bag was still on your head, and you could feel that you had been restrained to a chair.

“Hey!” You yelled “Help! Someone, anyone Help!” is all you could get out before the bag is ripped off your head and you are face to face with your captor.

“Jimmy Figgis,” you state.

“Hey Pretty Lady, so I hear you and Detective Jake Peralta were sneaking around my warehouse,” he says maniacally.

“We were looking for that hostage you kidnapped, what did you do with them anyway?” you ask.

“That’s none of your concern,” he says. He comes closer and caresses your cheek. You flinch away and he grips your jaw tight in his fist.

“So I suggest you tell us what the NYPD is up to, and I won’t have to bust up that pretty face of yours,” he whispers in your ear.

“I would never,” you say with gritted teeth. He lets you go and back hands you across the face before he walks away, his goons follow him out of the room, leaving you alone in the dark.

Jake’s POV

Boyle had brought Jake back to the precinct, where he told the whole squad what happened.

“I can’t lose her, sh-she’s my everything,” he says looking to the Sarge and the rest of the Squad.

“We will find her,” Rosa says almost emotionless, but what else did he expect.

“Ya, this is our top priority,” Holt says. “Everyone start working on possible leads as to where Y/n is, dismissed,”

Everyone rushes back to their desks to start looking for possible surveillance footage, and any possible leads on her whereabouts.

It had only taken about ten minutes of Jake being back in the precinct for a letter to arrive for him. He sat back down at his desk to open it. The envelope had no return address and when he opened it he found it to be written using cut out letters. Jake looked down at the letter and began to read it. After he finished the letter Amy could hear him start to breathe very heavily.

“What is it Jake,” without saying a word Jake hands the letter to Amy. she gives it a quick skim.

“Sarge! We got a problem,” She shouts.

“What! What's going on,” he says

“It’s a ransom note, they want to meet at their old warehouse and want two plane tickets to Mexico for Y/n’s safe return, any funny business and we take her far far away,” Amy says

“They wanna meet tonight,”

Reader’s POV

It had been several hours Jimmy Figgis kidnapped you and kept you locked in that dark windowless room. Your joint had started to become stiff from being in the same position for a long period of time. The sound of the deadbolt lock slicing through the silence, when we door starts to open the light causes you to squint, Jimmy and His goons walk in again.

“So Sweetheart, are you ready to tell me your plan, why were you and Peralta in my warehouse,”

You don’t give him a response. You just give him the coldest stare you can.

“Not ready eh? Why don’t my friends here try to persuade you,” He says

That when his goons come up with knives in their hands. They take the blades and set them along your exposed wrists.

“One more time, why were you in my warehouse?” you can feel the anger boiling inside of you, and before your brain can react you’ve spit in his face. He takes his large hand and wipes it off.

He gives both his goons a glare and they both start to slice through your delicate skin.

Trying your best to hold in your cries, you groan and moan. As the tears are threatening to spill from your eyes, Figgis comes in really close to your face and asks

“Why were you in my warehouse?”

When Figgis was done interrogating you, your arms were covered in your own blood, along with the cut on your cheek and one to you collarbone. Figgis had again left you alone in the dark, when you all of a sudden heard a loud crashing.

That's when you heard the battle cries of NYPD officers.

“Jake! Amy! Sarge! Someone I'm here!” you screamed, your voice still sore from all the screaming you had been holding back.

“Y/n? Baby are you in there?” You want to cry hearing the voice of your boyfriend.

“Yes, Jake please get me out!”

That's when Jake busts through the door gun pointed, the tears you had been holding back had begun to fall.

“Y/n! Oh my god,” Jake says had he runs over to untie you. You reach up to wrap you arms around him, not caring about the immense pain you about to feel.

“I was so worried about you, I didn’t know what I would do if I lost you,” Jake says between pants. He’s buried his face in the crook of you neck.

“Did you get him? Figgis?”

“Yes, he can’t hurt you anymore,” you and Jake both sigh with relief.

Jake picks you up bridal style and carried out back out to the ambulance they have waiting. Jake is there to hold you while the medic wraps your wounds. He’s whispering ‘I love you’s’ in you ear and rocking you lightly to comfort you. Once the medic is done Jake and you both walk back to his car so he can take you home.

Once you arrive back at home Jake helps you get inside and into bed, he slips in beside you and spoons you while planting sweet little kissed to your temple and cheek.

“I love you so much Y/n,” Jake whispers to you

“I love you too,” you whisper back.

I hope you like this, I had a really fun time writing it and hope to write more Jake Peralta fics because he is literally my favourite character ever. Leave me feedback because I like to hear what others think of my work.

#brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #jake peralta x reader #jake peralta #b99 #ray holt #terry jeffords #amy santiago #charles boyle #rosa diaz #nbc brooklyn 99 #reader insert #reader #brooklyn 99 fic #nine nine #angst with a happy ending #angst

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vincered · 5 years ago

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❛ IF YOU WANT TO HAVE IT ALL , TAKE IT ALL 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 , 𝟕𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 , 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐬

[ PARK CHAEWON, CIS FEMALE, SHE / HER. ] introducing nero waterway, VICTOR of the 72nd hunger games, representing district two. my sources say that they are twenty years old & that they’re pretty handy with manipulating opponents and allies alike. wonder if that did them any good in the arena ? anyways, caesar says you can’t miss them, because they remind everyone of a battle cry echoing sending shockwaves through ankle deep water, an unsatisfied hum falling from carefully painted lips to preserve a pristine reputation, the sound of short staves hitting a dummy in the dead of night – raw hands interrupted by an unwelcome visitor & happily sipping on hard-earned wine , hiding the bitter taste of blood behind a victorious grin.

NOT ME literally seeing this rp & screaming becos i was JUST thinkin about the hunger games . i was actually gonna bring nero in as a tribute but i remembered i love nero so i couldn’t but some day one day maybe , i don’t know . n e ways , i’m cc , i can’t spell & i prefer feminine , she / her pronouns . NERO is much like her namesake , the horrifying roman emperor , very ... bad ! in short , she don’t giv a fucc but i hope she ... grows . BUT this is super long , i’m sorry . if u wanna plot PLS like this & i’ll hope on over (: also pls click HERE for a mobile version of this since ik it might b hard to read on my theme .

❛ 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖓𝖊 ╱ 𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

FULL NAME nero atlas waterway NICKNAME(S) empress ( by the capitol , obviously ) , snake , traitor . AGE twenty GENDER / PRONOUNS cis gendered female / she / her ORIENTATION pansexual , demiromantic HOMETOWN district two , inner city near the wealth FACE CLAIM park chaewon ( go won of loona )

aesthetic : a battle cry echoing ; sending shockwaves through ankle deep water , an unsatisfied hum falling from carefully painted lips to preserve a pristine reputation , fingers taped with bloodying bandages after hours of training past her point , raised by wolves she learns to bare her teeth – but not before she learns to hide her claws , bloodthirsty eyes while holding an opponent underwater – her LAUGH is still used as a soundbite , the sound of short staves hitting a dummy in the dead of night – raw hands interrupted by an unwelcome visitor , attending parties with regret laced in the way she stands properly ( was victory her best option for infamy ? ) & hiding the bitter taste of blood behind a victorious grin .

LABEL the potentate , the truculent , the amoral MORAL ALIGNMENTS neutral evil / chaotic neutral ( + ) POSITIVES strategic , potent , adroit , tactical ( - ) NEGATIVES barbaric , nefarious , blasphemous , fustian HOGWARTS HOUSE slytherin first , ravenclaw second MYTHOLOGICAL PARENT athena + mars DEADLY SIN wrath + pride

❛ 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖜𝖔 ╱ 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞

trigger warning : death , murder , drowning

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢. nero , a name synonymous with evil & barbaric acts – blessed is the baby girl born into the waterway family . her brother , augustus is primed to be a victor ; tall , lethal with the personality to match . she can still remember being held face down in the bathtub by a boy three years her senior , body flailing as she struggles for air – nero can remember her brother burning her arm over an open flame , can recall every cut their parents had to pay thousands to prevent a scar . nero got the name synonymous with evil , but it should’ve been given to the boy who tried to throw her into the quarries when she was five . their parents , politicians in their own right – an ambassador to the capitol , married to the deputy mayor – are eager to produce a victor , to throw augustus into the spotlight with a laurel wreath onto his dark hair . they look to nero & hope for the same thing – two victors are better than one – & once they finish wiping bathwater from her mouth , finish healing a burn & picking up a broken body from the rock tops , they put her in augustus’s path . the perfect opponent , the perfect rival , the best partner in school .

so the academy accepts both waterway children & they climb the ranks faster than no other . once nero learns how to wield a weapon , how to hold her own – payback is dished out faster than augustus can blink & through the attempted murder the siblings enact , respect is earned . it’s rocky , but there are new nights they spend taping each other up & walking each other home . teen years are spent together , ruling the career academies with their sheer ego & skill . augustus , rocks the spear like a gladiator while nero adopts short staves . they both excel in everything , including the bloodlust & the craving to kill . waterways in their true form , they’re in talks to volunteer & only the stupid would oppose their will . but , at nineteen augustus is found dead in the quarries – feet away from where nero laid at five , feeling the life slip from her fingers . nero , who’s never shed a tear in public cried for the next week , red rimmed eyes glaring at everyone who looked her way at a sniffle . it’s deemed an accident , but augustus – so close to victory , would’ve never accidentally fallen to his death .

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐢. the plan is to enter the games at twenty - three ; an age near the middle of the pack , not too young , not too old . but the games are supposed to be hers – they’re supposed to be augustus’s , so she volunteers at eighteen . her sheer potency shirks her competition & she strides to the stage with a smirk curled on her lips . the capitol takes an instant liking to her – just the name nero strikes their hearts with admiration ; mixed with the baby face , the clear bloodlust in crimson lips as she boasts with pride about the games . she loves the games , she loves the capitol , she’s a victor wrapped up in the cloth of a princess . it becomes clear that manipulation is her forte – she’s good with words , she leaves everyone’s head spinning & she walks away with a training score of ten before interviews . when she meets the stage clad in a a ruffly dress , she makes the crowd love her ( ❛ oh , it’s an honor . ❜ , ❛ i hope i can make you guys proud of me . ❜ , ❛ my brother would’ve been so happy that you guys have given me a proud welcome . ❜ ) – she earns her fair share of sponsors the night before her games & goes into the game knowing she’ll win .

her games are much like her , barbaric down to the bone . a seemingly never ending fjord , surrounded by climbable walls of rock – it almost reminds her of home . the bloodbath starts on rocky shores , the cornucopia is the mouth of a cave halfway underwater & nero claims her first kills in the water . the girl from eleven , held underwater the way her brother held her ; the boy from three , head bashed in with a rock ; the pair from five , spear through the pair like kebob . her allies look to her for instructions , the career pack waits for an eighteen year old empress to give orders to her soldiers . the careers run the game , it’s almost un-fun to watch if not for nero & her sheer entertainment . her laughs , the quips she sends to allies & non allies alike , still used as soundbites & promotions to this day . she starts wars with her words before ending it herself with crimson stained hands . she turns her allies against each other just to take them down herself in the woods , promises safety to the non careers only to betray them in the cruelest of ways . her final showdown – the girl from three ; she survived to kill the girl that killed her partner , for love , or something – the thing nero’s never searched for . they survive a fall from a cliff into icy waters & after nearly dying from electrocution , blood is spilt in fjord water & nero claims the crown with her knee on the back of the tribute , hands drenched like the hair clutched in her fingers . she can still remember her brother trying to drown her , he’s with her when she wins .

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐢𝐢. a willing tribute , an ecstatic victor . she’s chased the crown for as long as she’s lived & to hold it in her hands is enough to make her smile for a lifetime . eager to shake hands with president snow , nero has an easier life as a tribute than most – she has NO regrets , she’s the perfect tribute , the perfect victor & quickly rises to almost it - girl status . her face is everywhere , the face of multiple brands & products , life size advertisements are all around the capitol & her game goes down in history ( top three on the most ruthless , cruelest victors in history ) . because of her willingness & her eagerness , she gets an easy life –�� parties with the rich , nights spent with fans willingly . snow keeps a loose leash on his newest , favorite victor ; lets her wield her words in whichever way she wants & nero gets everything she wants . she watches with her head held high as others suffer , losing no sleep , sleeping with whoever she wants , gaining whatever she wants – empress nero is branded on her skin in invisible ink , but she wears the title with pride .

and yet , she feels a little suffocated by the time the 74th games come around . she’s known now , a capitol lap dog , a willing victor , a willing tribute – nero waterway is not only lethal , she’s ruthless ; but , there’s a part of her that realizes snow is tightening her leash . he demands secrets from the people she beds , the lives of her parents hangs over her heads & for the first time in her life , nero FALTERS underneath the watchful gaze of the capitol . she doesn’t live up to her namesake for the few months leading up to the games , shirks from the limelight she’s grown to love as she reevaluates her decisions . regret’s started to seep into her bones , but nero is an empress , she doesn’t know how to surrender .

❛ 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊 ╱ 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

exterior , known to be both potent & untrustworthy – nero’s still managed to wrap the capitol around her little finger . she makes heads spin with harmless words , pulls strings while she bakes cakes for her favorite game makers . outwardly , people know she’s NOT to be underestimated – that though she’s terrifyingly tiny , she’s much more lethal than most people will ever be in their entire lives . nero , like her namesake , synonymous with evil & savagery , will start wars without lifting a finger & laugh while her fingers get stained with blood .

& while the capitol craves it , it may rub other victors the wrong way . a bit too proud of her achievements , nero has absolutely no regrets about her life . she’s trained for it her entire life , she grasps her laurel wreath in between crimson hands & she boasts her pride . she rolls in the fame & the glory , not understanding the nightmares & the remorse felt by other winners clad in gold . young & naive , she’s almost childlike with her pure glee – if not for the bloodthirsty barbarian hiding inside of her . outrageously pretentious , borderline evil , everything she says has a meaning behind it – usually negative .

interior , nero is lonely . a victorious socialite of all things now , she trains the potential tributes back home , attends lavish parties & mingles with high status citizens but she’s lonely at the top . a stranger to romance , she’s never sought after it as much as she seeks sexual interactions – she more craves friendship , companionship in the way she used to have an older brother .

but she hides it well , takes pictures by her advertisements , watches the games with glee , laughs with game makers & other ruthless victors . she masks her loneliness & her suspicion with charm & her preceding reputation , unaware that her isolation is exactly what president snow wants . her loneliness is what he counts on , but as smart as nero is strategically , she stupid .

midway , her psyche’s been a bit twisted & contorted because of her upbringing – what , with the attempted murder & the glorification of the annual murder games . she’s been an unfortunate victim of the capitol’s brainwashing , viewing the games as an extravagant event & winning to be the greatest honor . she’s flourished as a victor as well , willingly playing into everything the capitol wants her to become as a side effect of being so terribly naive about everything .

there’s a part of her that’s starting to suspect something is wrong – whispers of traitors & to keep a close watch on all the victors , but it’s not like nero has many actual friends . not many people actually want to befriend someone that’d gladly go into the games again , but she’s sat back & observed while snow tightens her leash , restricting her from her daily life . early signs of regret are starting to seep into her bones as snow starts demanding more & more , but she’s been idolizing the capitol & everything all her life – it’ll take a lifetime to wipe her slate clean .

❛ 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖔𝖚𝖗 ╱ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

in conclusion : nero’s evil , very bad , very annoying . & don’t look at me , i know this is long & THIS is why i couldn’t take up two muses cos then i’d be stupid for BOTH & i’m simply so fuckin stupid please love me anyway if u wanna plot .... jus like this & i’ll slide in .

#oddsintro

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canumoveurseatup-no · 5 years ago

Text

Witching Hour

Part 2 in the “Halo Boy and Horn Girl” series

summary: Steve struggles adjusting to life without his wings. You share his pain.

word count: 2.3k

pairing: angel!steve x black!demon!reader

warnings: mentions of religion, smut, angel and demon fraternization, angsty

—————

Superstition, fear and jealousy.. drove the Puritans to accuse their friends and relatives of consorting with the Devil- parading around huge bonfires, repeating vindictive chants. They consigned the poor creatures to the flames. The tortured souls cried out in agony as the flames mounted higher and higher!

Burn witch, burn witch, burn!!

This is the witching hour...

———————

I can see the way you look at me, you can't see beyond the veil. I can tell the way you run from me, I’m not your perfect fairy tale

“I know this isn’t your perfect fairytale, Steve,” you commented as he lied beside you, sweating and panting before getting up to get dressed and leave.

He has let a beard grow and his hair was longer. You kind of missed the innocent look of your angel friend but you didn’t complain with this look either.

“I can tell by the way you look at me,” you didn’t want to admit that it hurt. But the more your halo boy came to let out his frustrations, the more you felt for him. Maybe it was your human body giving into nostalgia..?

“Perfect fairytales don’t exist, Y/N,”

“Maybe not down here... But they do behind those pearly gates and it’s my fault you’re not there... but I share your pain,”

“You cause pain, Y/N! You don’t share it,”

You didn’t have much to say before he walked out of your bedroom and out of your house. As much as you wanted to call out or run out for him you stayed in your bed.

Watch me burn. Can you feel me? Watch as I turn. What do you see?

You just wanted him to understand you didn’t ask to be a demon. If anything you wanted to change your ways to be with him but this was what you deserved. The life of a demon came with sorrow and lack of affection, clearly.

“I’m sorry I’m not your perfect fairy tale,” you whispered out into the air, knowing the wind would whisk your words away and send it his way, “Just say the words and I will go back to my river of fire,”

———

And I am, conflicted by your hurt, so let me share your pain. Convicted for my church, I was born in flames. Addicted to my fate, watch as I devour, convicted for my faith. This is the Witching Hour, this is the Witching Hour.

The knock on your door didn’t surprise you. You expected him right on the dot. Every night at 3 o’clock am.

The witching hour.

“Hello, halo boy, would you like some tea?,”

“Is that what they’re calling pussy nowadays?,”

You were used to the vulgar language coming from you but him, you weren’t sure how to feel.

“I actually just want to sit and talk,” you sigh softly and sit on the couch, waiting for him to sit with you but he just looks at you to see if you’re serious, “As much as I would like my pussy to be a punching bag for your cock, talking is in order. You’re an angel, your methods of coping are not like you,”

“You don’t know a damn thing,”

“Maybe not demon me but mortal me knows everything about you,” lately you’ve been letting the mortal subconscious take over just so you could experience Steve and what your relationship was like before all of this. The love your mortal body has for him has butterflies in your stomach.

“Your favorite color is medallion yellow, you like your spaghetti with mussels instead of hamburger, you hate drinking soda, your favorite piece of work out equipment is the rowing machine, you even dragged me to church every Sunday in hopes that I would stop witchcraft and find the way of God,”

Steve’s jaw clenched before he scowled at you and scoffed, “What’s this? a trip down memory lane? Those aren’t our memories, Y/N,”

“But they are!,” you argued, “Our spirits got put back into these body’s for that mission because the council knew how well we worked together in our past life. You should remember,” you were hopeful he’d at least try.

Don't you see the way I look at you? I can see behind your eyes, and can't you tell the way I reach for you? I wear my halo in disguise.

“I wanna be good for you Steve,” you’d break off and saw down your horns when you’re in your demon form just for him.

“Oh really?” He scoff and rolled his shoulders, still feeling the pain of his wings being ripped out. Scar tissue thick and bumpy, “You can’t be good,”

“I’d try for you,”

He turns his back to you and you felt bad. Maybe had your human self just listened, you’d be an angel with him instead of below him as a demon.

I watch you burn, I can feel you. I watch as you turn, What did you do?

“Are we going to the bedroom or not?,”

“I don’t think you continuing to sleep with me is doing well for you in God’s book,” it pained you to say it, you’d love that contact with him but maybe, just maybe, temptation was a sin for a reason.

“Y/N you’re a literal demon. You thrive off strife and sin and you, a demon, is sitting here lecturing me, an angel, on how to be good?!,”

You sulked as he raised his voice. You just wanted him to be happy, and that was with his wings.

“I want you to be happy,” you croak, “You’re happy with your wings and as much as I’d like to give in... I can’t because it’s my fault we’re on opposite ends of the spectrum anyway,”

Steve’s shoulders sagged for a reason unbeknownst to him. The look of sadness on your face saddened him. It seemed all too familiar and it made his chest ache.

————

“I don’t want you to go to hell over this, Y/N,”

“This is my lineage, Steve! It’s been in my family for generations upon generation, I can’t just stop,”

“The Devil is in the details. He has his horns hooked in you and you can’t even feel it,”

You loved Steve with all your heart- but the way he talking about the craft of your ancestors hurt more than anything. Maybe he was right, but you were always taught this from the time you were born up until you were the last to pass it on to your children.

Your face had fallen sullen and Steve took a breather to notice how much this upset you.

“Listen baby, I’m sorry- I just worry,”

You sit and sigh shaking your head, not knowing what to do.

“No I get it,”

Except you really didn’t, not until it was too late anyway.

————

“So what?,”

“I can take your pain, mental anguish and guilt and take it as a part of me. To share it- so it’s not overwhelming you. This all is mostly my fault anyway,”

Steve sat beside you and weighed his options. Would he let you do that just because he was too weak to ignore sin?

Conflicted by your hurt, so let me share your pain. Convicted for my church, I was born in flames.

“I was sentenced to hell for the craft of my ancestors. I was already predestined to hell before I was even born because I was marked be in the lineage,” you play with the handle on your mug before setting it down and taking his hand in yours to lead him to your room.

Addicted to my fate, watch as I devour. Convicted for my faith. This is the Witching Hour. This is the Witching Hour

“There’s no need for hesitation. I thrive off strife and sin, remember?” You set him down and strip down naked, feeling bashful at the way his eyes bugged out at you like it was his first time seeing you, “So watch as I devour your pain. It’s the witching hour- the time I’m at my strongest,”

You straddles his waist and pushed him back, telling him to relax his jaw, leaving it a little slack.

“Just trust me for once,” you grabbed his chin in your hand and placed your lips over his, just barely touching. You closed your eyes, focusing on rooting yourself into him just to do this one thing.

You must burn for what you have done, you must burn for what you have done, you must burn for what you've become. You must burn

Maybe this could be a part of your redemption? Doing good, being selfless and taking care of your opposite. Taking care of one of the greatest goods in life.

Your body trembles as you suck the grey mist of melancholy out of his into your own. Your eyes burned with tears. You continue to hold his chin tight as you whimpered, feeling his pain and frustrations into you. It was different than any other that you’ve experienced, it shook you to your core but maybe it was because it was someone you/past you knew and loved with your entire being.

You wanted to scream, you wanted to claw your chest open and let it out. It hurt so bad. He felt betrayal, anger, vengeance, depression and anxiety and while you could take it, this time you couldn’t.

When the last of the fog enters your body, you let out a cry and fall back onto the floor. Sobbing and hating yourself for doing so.

Your soul felt darker than ever and again, you’re a demon for crying out loud.

“Y/N!,” Steve is by your side in a flash, going against his own words that he didn’t feel anything for you.

“I’m so sorry,” you touched his cheek and sniffled, “I’m so sorry for letting you down,”

“Shh shh, baby don’t cry,” he held you and rocked your body, seeing how your veins turned black with his darkness, “I’m right here, I’m here,”

“It hurts,” you face scrunches up and you shake in his embrace

“That’s why didn’t want you to do it...why’d you do it?,”

“Did it for you,” swallowing thickly, more tears falling, “Wanted to show you I c-couldn’t do more than cause p-pain... that I could be good,”

—————

You woke up in Steve’s arms with the sun shining in your eyes. Your veins returned to normal and your body no longer aches. The warmth of the sun on your face felt nice, the birds chirping made you smirk, the rustling of the leaves made you feel content.

Until you got hit by a wall of déjà vu and your blood ran cold that this is how you woke up every day. In Steve’s arms, smiling at the birds, the sun in your eyes. You loved it until you realized Steve didn’t want this, he didn’t believe in this anymore.

“I was worried about you,” his voice startled you, “You whimpered in your sleep all night,”

“I didn’t expect you to stay,” you sit up quickly but he pulled you back into his arms.

“I wasn’t leaving you like that,” he whispered against your neck, your body still bare against his clothes skin.

“You can leave now if you’d like,” you were scared to turn and look at him.

“I’m sorry for not listening,” he rolled you on your back and you swallowed the lump in your throat, “You just haunt my every thought, my every good judgment, my every moment. I was scared to admit that I needed you,”

His lips pressed against your cheek and he hummed as he took in your calming scent, “I didn’t want to admit that I let my humanity take over and I can sit for hours watching our memories like movies. Why do I still love you?,”

“Why do I still love you?,” you retort. Finally you look at him and he can’t take the way your eyes glistened back at him. He didn’t care about the consequences, he kissed you passionately and you wanted to fight it but you needed it.

The smacking of your lips filled the room and you wrap your arms around his neck. You didn’t even need foreplay, you were soaking already, knowing he lurked in your dreams.

Your thighs fell open for him and he reacted quickly by pulling his pants down and jerking himself a few times before aligning himself with you and pushing in. He felt so deliciously heavy in you, he caused your breath to hitch as he began moving.

“I shared your pain of remembering, that’s why I tried to ignore it. I didn’t want it to be true but you can not fight fate.”

Your eyes clenched as you bit your lip, holding the back of your thighs so he could get deeper as he picked up his pace.

“I love you, Stevie,”

He whined at the nickname, he did every time you let it slip.

His forehead fell against yours, lips meeting yours again in an urgent motion. He held your head in his hands as he pounded down into you. This wasn’t like every other time, angry and resentful, no. It was polished and precise. Loving and fulfilling.

“You feel so good, baby,” he huffed, a small smile appearing in his lips, “will never get sick of this,”

“Yes yes yes!,” you wanted to hide your face as you screamed out but he wouldn’t let you, he made you look him in the eyes as he came with you and in you.

“I’m so sorry,” he sighed, resting his body lightly on yours. Kissing every inch of hot skin he can, “Horns or halo I love you,”

“I’d make my horns into a halo for you if I could,” you whispered, you go way back and make things right the first time.

“Stay as you are. My horn girl,”

“My halo boy,”

———————-

I’m never really good at endings but here’s part two to the new Steve series!!

comments and reblogs are always appreciated!!

Tags- @blackreaders-assemble @mbaku-babygirl @valkyriesnymph @valentinevirgo @veryhellshdia @vozit @here-for-your-bullshit @crawlingnightmares @retroxvailles @yournonlocalpoc @dumbchick @warmchick @xye-weirdo @disaster-rose @spideys-wife @alyssaj23 @hisxblackxqueen @chonisberonica @persephones24 @kamahriii

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hazza-bear-care · 5 years ago

Text

Please Don’t Leave Me (Blurb)

Pairings: Negan x Reader

Description: During a raid of Alexandria, you get shot.

Warnings: blood, swearing (cuz it’s fucking Negan), mentions of death.

A/N: I’ve never actually seen an episode with Negan, let alone written for him, so this might not be great. Enjoy anyway!

~~~~~~~

You were scared to say the least. On the way to Alexandria, you knew that people were gonna die, you just didn't think you’d be one of them. When the bullet ripped through your abdomen, a shrill cry of “NEGAN!” left your lips before falling to your knees. The man in question was on the other side of the field, Lucille bashing through skull after skull as he made his way over to you.

Gunshots rippled around you as the raid gone wrong continued. Black spots started to fill your vision as your breath thinned. Negan appeared by your side, the blood saturating your shirt scaring the shit out of him.

“Shit, shit, shit. Simon! Get your ass over here!” Negan panicked, scooping you into his arms and laying you on the ground. Negan’s number two scurried over to his boss and froze, taking in the sight before him. Simon kneeled over you, investigating the severity of the wound.

“Negan, take off your bandana and apply pressure to the wound. We need to get her back to the truck and then to the Sanctuary. I can fix her up there, but only if we leave now!” The red ascot was ripped from Negan’s throat as his huge and situated it around your wound. He pushed hard on your stomach, causing you to grimace loudly. Simon lifted you from the ground and ran you to the truck, laying you out across the back seat. Negan climbed in beside you, still pressing his bandana as hard as he could. He gently placed your head on his lap and began running his fingers through your hair.

“Negan, I don’t wanna die,” You whimpered quietly, tears rolling down your cheeks.

“You’re not gonna fucking die, okay? We’re gonna fix you up and you’ll be back before you fucking know it.” You could hear the panic in his voice, but you chose to ignore it. Every bump pushed Negan’s hand harder into your stomach, and the black spots grew to a bigger diameter. Your eyes started searching for something other than Negan’s features. You closed your eyes briefly, wanting just a moment of peace to distract from the pain and panic you were feeling.

“Baby, open your eyes. You need to keep them open as long as you fucking can. We’re almost there.” You forced your eyes open, squinting against the brightness of the sun.

“Negan, you need to distract her. Keep her talking. Ask her questions-”

“Yeah, fucking got it! Just drive, Simon! Y/N, what’s your favorite color?” You smiled at his attempt to distract you. You looked up at his hazel eyes, the usually hard features now incredibly soft and teary.

“Green, like forest green. What about you?”

“Fucking red, of course. Is there anyone you miss from before this shit happened?”

“My mom. She was my rock, and I watched her fight until those fuckers tore her apart.” More tears fell as you thought about your mom, but you knew that’s not what she would have wanted.

“What do you miss about your mom?”

“Her smile.” Negan smiled down at you and met your eyes, the fear hidden behind the tears shattering his heart. The truck lurched to a stop and the doors opened, a stretcher waiting to transport you to the hospital. You were adjusted accordingly as Negan kept his fingers in your hair. Simon nodded and Negan stopped touching you, instantly sending panic coursing through your veins.

“Negan! Please don’t leave me!” You pleaded, reaching back and clawing at the leather of his jacket.

“Baby, I’m not fucking going anywhere. But you need to get fixed up, okay? I’ll wait for you right outside.”

“I love you.” That was the first time you said that. Negan stood frozen outside as Simon wheeled you away. He followed until you were taken into a room and did as he promised: waited right outside. He heard you scream twice before silence and he had to refrain from kicking down the door to make sure you were alright. When pacing wasn’t helping time move faster, Negan sat down and quickly fell asleep amongst his worry.

~~~~~~~

When he awoke, Negan was met with a frightened Simon standing above him.

“Is she okay? Simon, you better fucking answer me, and the answer should be ‘she’s okay, alive, and gonna fucking recover.’“ Negan’s gloved hands clenched into fists as he towered over his number two.

“She’s alright. She’s alive... for now.”

“For now?! For fucking now?! What the fuck does that shit even mean, Simon?!” Negan yelled, punching the wall behind him.

“It means, Negan, that she’s lost a lot of blood. We don’t know her blood type, so we couldn’t perform a transfusion. Her body can only produce so much over time, and unfortunately, she’s not going to make it. I’m so sorry.” Simon quickly walked away from Negan before the angry man could punch his right hand.

Negan ran his hands through his hair and entered your room, his knees almost buckling at the sight that greeted him: you, paler than usual, being swallowed by the sheets you were wrapped in. Your breathing was still thin, stuttering every few seconds as it continued to keep you alive, barely. Negan regained his posture and tiptoed over to your bed. He gently wrapped your hand in his and leaned forward, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I love you too, sweets. But listen to me right fucking now, you can’t leave. I’ve had too many fucking people leave me behind, you can’t be one of them. Please don’t leave me, Y/N. I need you.” Negan let a few tears fall as he squeezed your hand tightly. He watched through blurred vision as your breathing stuttered again, and then stopped.

“No! Shit! Simon!” Negan screamed, pushing the sheets off your body and starting chest compressions.

“Negan! Step back. Allow me.” Simon replaced Negan, the compressions shaking your body. The burly man crouched in the corner as he watched Simon struggle to revive you for just a few more minutes. After a few more minutes, Simon stepped away from your body and shook his head. From his place in the corner, Negan nodded and gestured for Simon to leave. Negan slowly made his way to you and lifted you out of the bed, the countdown starting as he left the room and carried your lifeless corpse to a field.

He placed you gently on the ground and stood over you. A couple Saviors had followed their leader down to the field, prepared for what was coming next. Two men had brought shovels and broke ground for the grave, digging a deep hole as quickly as they could. Another had offered Negan a gun, the weapon feeling strange in his hand. He pointed the weapon at your head, hand shaking so intensely that he had to re-aim multiple times. The fourth time he had steadied the weapon, he fired instantly.

~~~~~~~

Your grave was decorated with flowers, your name carved into the makeshift cross marking your final resting place. Your go to weapon, a pick-axe, leaned against the marker. Negan visited the grave everyday, regaling the details of raids, killings, and anything else you two managed to enjoy together. He swore he would kill the bastard that killed you, which he was successful at. Negan always left with an “I love you” and a kiss hastily thrown into the air, a promise to come back. No matter what, he always returned. He loved you too much to ignore you completely.

~~~~~~~

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed! Send in some requests and let me know what you though of this blurb. Love ya!

#negan x reader #negan fanfiction #negan imagine #twd imagine #negan #The Walking Dead

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theplumsoldier · 5 years ago

Text

STAY THE NIGHT

Request: Anonymous asked: Hey x Can I request "just... stay for the night." with Negan x wife reader? I don't know if you still write Negan but if you don't, that's totally fine. The last thing I'd want is to make you do something you don't wanna do. I love your writing and thank you! ☺️❤️

A/N: took a long time and for that im sorry but i do hope i kind of lives up to your expectations or at least suffice, thanks for dedicating me your time

Pairing: negan x reader

Word count: 1882

Warnings: angst, vulgar language.

Negan realized that this time, he for sure had managed to sufficiently piss off his most admired wife, even if so it happened she attempted to hide her anger beneath the strong and stiff layer of a coated smile, gleamy eyes, and sweet dismissing voice. That was her usual way of managing, however now—now was not a time of such and she was in fact not merely angered consequent to his actions, no Y/N she was furious.

“And telling you this I must admit that until now it just may have been fear keeping me from bringing this into light, but your actions, words—not just toward me but the way you so seem to wallow in others’ dismay, it’s too much. You’re too far over the line, Negan, always glorying in the fear you put in their minds, as if the dead weren’t enough, you go and bash heads in to make a point! And even so, when you’re not running around showing what power you possess, you humiliate us, make us uncomfortable and you enjoy crossing people—that power you feel brushing your veins knowing very well if you desired so, they would lie dead at your feet. It’s where you get off, is it not?”

Your harsh, unyielding tone was enough to shut him up and from the way, his the crease between his eyebrow had let up and eyes pointed at the ground, you understood you had set his mind working. The rumination was evident in his the trepidation of his feet and his hand wandered to rub the side of his neck. The deep furrow returned and his lips parted.

“Perhaps you should lie down,” suggested he in a hushed, hoarse voice and offered his hand. He too had been yelling, although now it was your turn and it took everything in him not to let the defensive anger get the better of him. If anyone was a worthy advocate of alcohol it was Negan, and being more than vaguely familiar with the substance you held by the neck, he too, knew of its effect thus where this bold truth originated from.

“Have I really figured you out, is that it? Are my presumptions fairly mistaken? Am I stubborn to make these accusations or am I stubborn to speak of them?”

“Y/N,” he spoke, warning you to not go on but you had him. You had him right where you wanted and this was the moment of truth where if not everyone would be exposed to his self, you would and perhaps that would earn you some respect.

That was at least if you did not get yourself relegated.

Then again the world was doomed and you could not care less; not in this befouled state in the least.

“Let’s clean you up and get you to bed, okay?”

When he went for your wrist, Negan was surprised when you lashed out for him, the bottle falling from your hand and spilling on the fine carpet beneath you. Nonetheless, with no problem, he managed to evade your wrath for at was slovenly and without aim and deriving from a maudlin woman rather than a determined one. When your imbalance pushed you to the ground, he was quick to catch you in his arms.

It was not until your eyes finally brought themselves to connect with his wide, concerned ones, you realized how pathetic you must appear to him. As if he had made an advantage or invaded your personal space, you shoved Negan off of you and wen to sit on the bed as you found it impossible to stand still while tall.

He repeated your name and your hands went to your head, eyeing the nauseating liquid soaked up by the carpet. Moaning out your brood, your back collided with the large bed. One of the several perks of being a wife.

What would you have done had it not been for Negan? You did not know, truly.

You probably would lie half eaten in a street somewhere, no pride, no consciousness, no brain. Would it be better than this? It was no joyous life compared to what you believed it ought to be, but you were alive, you were somewhat happy and you had a husband who showed appreciation for you. In spite he was not yours alone, he was indeed better than the one you had left in your previous life and had it not been for Negan, you would not have all this.

You would not even have the chance of getting carelessly drunk and albeit bringing you nothing but misery in your current situation, you understood he was doing he best. He might as well rid himself of you whenever you got difficult to deal with – and that certainly was a number of times – but he never did. Negan never considered doing so, for he enjoyed your company more than anyone’s—even now as you dug into his torn heart, practically bringing him to his knees as you pointed out the worst in him, he rather would be with you than another wife. You were not just a wife, you were the wife. You were his wife and when it came to it, you were proud to be just that.

Your cheeks were wet, you noticed just then.

“I’m not crying,” stated you, more for yourself than Negan.

You could hear him moving around in your room but you did not care enough to look up as you wiped your eyes.

“I didn’t say you were.”

“I don’t cry.” You were insistent and whilst you knew as much as Negan that you had nothing to prove, you felt compulsory to convince yourself you were better than what you currently appeared to be.

Then you discerned how late it was must be for it was dark out – it had not been when you had begun drinking – and your throat was sore, from the yelling, from the crying, from the hard liquor.

“Leave.”

Negan placed the bottle he had collected from the floor on the top of your dresser, his finger brushing the red petal of a rose standing tall and lonesome in a vase as he craned his neck. “What?”

“Your presence is disturbing—I cannot think,” enunciate you, your voice sharp and snappy but laced with this slur.

Dismissive of your words, Negan sauntered around the dim room, cleaning up the mess you had made during the process of your pitiful rage. Going on and cursing his being as you were there in your bed, Negan blocked out your voice, hearing nothing but a buzz over the sound of his thoughts. None of it mattered anyway. At least no more than those other times you had made it clear how little you liked him. This time was only contrasting to the rest as he was merely taking it all in, agreeing with some to for you did seem to have him figured out. And though he hated that, even felt anger toward you for seeing right through him, he simply listened.

He did enjoy the control. Who wouldn’t? he thought and a point stuck to that. He was only dissimilar from the rest because he had been the one fierce enough to claim it. He had built his way through this horrific world, trotted down his path and killed to get to the top, he had made his name known. Now he had it and it was something to be savored.

“Lie on your side,” said Negan finally and you groaned out as if you had not just prayed he would respond to your insults. This was not the reaction you wished for, yearned even; your blood was boiling, you wanted his to do the same. You had been screaming at him, spilling your emotions in such a poignant sense. You were alone at this moment and to you, it was a vulnerable one.

“Stop telling me what to do.” Groaning, you shifted and tugged on the sheets around you. You eyes were fixated on the ceiling and the alcohol coursing your system enabled you to feel the rotation of the world. At least it felt like it while you were still on your back. “I’m not sorry.”

“You don’t have to be.”

You were right.

Only you were not well within your rights to point his insecurities out, bring him down like so and make him loathe himself. It was brutal to his ears, but not alien. You were delineating him immaculately.

Negan was also aware this was how you vented. In spite of never witnessing you like this, he understood it was how you vented. Through alcohol and brutal honesty and he related to that on an unhealthy level. Seemed you managed to withstand a tad more force, however, seeing as this must be your first tantrum compared to his several. He found a certain form of rescue in sex whereas you were softer than that, more delicate. He was not good at that, or solely not bosom with that which was why he figured you rather would be alone; cry this one out on your own.

“Do you want me to help you out of your clothes before I leave?”

Your head turned to the side, the rest of your body following the movement and you drew in a sharp breath. “You don’t have to leave.”

“Didn’t you just—”

“No, no,” whined you out and sat up against the headboard making a “thump” sound as it paralleled with the wall. “Just stay the night.”

He shifted and Negan’s tongue darted over his lips, clearing his throat as his feet carried him to the side of your bed. Studying your figure spread out, tears staining your cheeks, red beneath and puffy lips, his head tilted.

“You’re so difficult.”

“So are you,” responded you and broke a slight smile but hid it just as it aired.

“I never know where I have you,” Negan admitted and sat beside you, his hand sliding across the smooth silk but you moved away, your back turned on him but you made room for him to take up the space—an invitation.

“That’s because I’m not yours to have.”

But you were, you knew that, too. It was part of the deal, it was the reason for your well thriving.

“I respect you.”

It sounded like a confession, like words he should not have spoken but they did not slip. Negan did not acknowledge the fact because he needed to make anything up to you, not because you needed to hear that but because he realized that just then and there. And you were the only of his wives in which he respected, perhaps the only person in the Sanctuary that he respected the reason as to why were countless.

The shift in the bed indicated he was beside you, but he did not touch you. His breathing was heavy and soothing, and exhaling with a sigh you turned to face him and put your hand on his heart. Soon your breathing matched his and your eyes grew heavier, lids closing in on you only allowing you a final peak of his beauty before you were to drift off.

“I know you do.”

#negan #the walking dead negan #negan twd #twd negan #negan fanfiction #theplumsoldier #twd #jdm #jdm smut #negan smut #twd smut #twd negan smut #jeffrey dean morgan

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thedyingmoon · 5 years ago

Text

🖤 I See My Future Before Me 🖤

***

XXII

***

"Hello?"

"Kyrie, it's me."

"Nero! Oh, thank God, you're alright!"

"How are things there?"

"I've heard Fortuna's in complete ruins now because of the Dreadnought and its horde. But, we're safe here. You don't have to worry about us."

"Glad to hear that."

"Yes."

...

"Nero?"

"Hmm?"

"Is,... something bothering you?"

"Ah,... nothing."

"Hmm,..."

"Haha. It's nothing. Really."

"Nero, I can tell something's wrong, even if we're thousands of miles apart. I love you, and you know you can always tell me anything. I'm here for you."

...

"Kyrie,..."

"I'm listening."

"What will you do if,..."

"Hmm?"

"Well, let's say you confessed your,... ah,... feelings for me."

"Yes. And?"

"And,... ah,... I rejected you. Like, badly. Like, not even friendzone. What will you do?"

"Hmm, to tell you the truth, I can't imagine you doing that to me. But, if that happens, well,..."

"Well?"

"Of course, I would definitely get hurt. A lot. Nothing hurts more than a special someone, a loved one, pushing you away from their life. My heart would be shattered to pieces, and I would feel like my existence won't matter anymore."

"Whoa! The existence part is too much!"

"Ah, you don't understand, Nero. Girls' feelings are delicate. They may act tough but, deep inside, their heart is dying. No matter how much they struggle against the sadness, eventually it will come back and haunt them. It's like a sickness, being heartbroken. And it's very hard to heal."

"Oh. How do they, uh, cope? They can't stay like that forever, right?"

"Hmm, let's see. With company. With friends who would never leave them. Who would stay for them, eat ice cream with them, and watch romantic movies with them. With honest people who would tell them that the right man would come for them in the right time and everything would be just fine."

"The right man? So, they're just gonna make her forget that she loved - "

" - a man who hurt and rejected her? Well, of course! He hurt her, so he doesn't deserve her."

"Listen, Kyrie: what if he's the one? The one who rejected her?"

"...

... if he's the one, then he shouldn't have rejected her in the first place. It's just,... wrong,... and,... stupid."

"I see."

"Oh, don't tell me you're courting someone while I'm on the other side of the globe?"

"WHAT?! NO! I would never do that to you!"

"Hahaha! Of course, Nero. I know you would never do that to me. So, who's the sad girl?"

"..."

"Nero? Tell me."

"It's (Y/N). Do you know her?"

"Yes. Nico's always telling me about her. She sounds like a great person. Why? Who rejected her?"

"Ah, it's,..."

"Who?"

"I - it's a long story. You know what? Prepare the ice cream and the movies. We'll end this battle quick, because she needs your company. (Y/N) needs you. Us."

"Okay, Nero."

"Wait for us, Kyrie."

"I will wait for you, for as long as I live."

"I love you, sweetheart."

"I love you, too, sweetheart."

Nero hung up the phone, sighing as he did so. Ever since hearing about your dire situation ( meaning, everything ) from Nico, herself, he couldn't help but be sad and angry.

Sad for you, and angry at V.

What man could ever stomach doing that to a girl who clearly loved him?! Enough to follow him at death's door?!

The young Devil Hunter shook his head in disbelief. He could still remember the Artisan's words to him a few minutes prior.

"Go after (Y/N)! She's reckless right now, and she needs someone who could stop her from killing herself!"

"Seriously, V." Nero said to himself as he scratched his head in confusion, unable to envision himself rejecting his beloved Kyrie. "You are one stupid son of a bitch for doing that to (Y/N),..."

"Winter, spring, summer or fall,

You know all you have to do is call.

And I'll be there, yeah! You've got a frieeennnddd!"

"You sound terrible."

"Are ya kiddin'?! I sound angelic!"

"Right,..."

"(Y/N) and,... Griffon?" Nero uttered upon hearing the conversation not far from where he was. He left the last good phonebooth of the city and went to his vehicle,...

"Now, you do it." Griffon challenged you as you two made your way towards the Dreadnought.

You cleared your throat and opened your mouth, belting the lines that the bird just sang.

"Winter, spring, summer or fall,

You know all you have to do is call.

And I'll be there, yeah! You've got a frieeennnddd!"

"UGH! AND YA CALL THAT SINGING?! YE SOUND LIKE A CAT IN HEAT FALLING FROM THE TOP OF THE EIFFEL TOWER!"

"I TOLD YOU! I'M TONE DEAF!"

"Yeah, ya better stick to dancin', sweet pea. Haha! Haha! Ah, haha! Well, ah,... no offense. You really sound terrible."

"I know but, you don't have to rub it in,..."

"(Y/N)!" The two of you suddenly heard a voice behind you.

"Is that?" Griffon questioned as you two looked behind you,...

... to see Nero going full speed towards you in a sleek and sick - looking motorcycle that seemed to glow both blue and purple. He stopped just a few steps from you and proudly revved his new vehicle.

"Hey, (Y/N)! Need a ride?" The young Devil Hunter asked you with his signature, charmingly boyish smile.

"I thought Eleison's destroyed?" You asked as you glanced at the amazing vehicle in awe.

"Yeah. I saw it with ma own eyes." Griffon added.

Nero chuckled. "She is. But, you see, a few hours ago, I defeated this knight - Demon thing who wields electricity. When I fought it, its broken parts kinda merged with some vehicle gears. Long story short, I now have Kyrie Eleison!"

"And it has a name now! Right,..." the demonic bird sarcastically replied.

"Anyway, I'm going straight to that ugly ship to make it sink! Wanna tag along?"

"I don't know, Nero!" You answered. "I mean, can it even fly?"

The boy may not have mentioned it but, he can clearly see your red puffy eyes. Like you have been crying a lot. He chose to ignore this, planning to bring this up for after the battle, and spoke. "We'll see about that. Hop on!"

You awkwardly took a seat behind the boy, feeling a bit weak in the legs, and held tightly unto his wide shoulders for support. Griffon automatically positioned himself behind you, grabbing unto your hoodie with his talons.

Seeing that you're prepared and ready for a wild ride, Nero revved Kyrie Eleison and sped fast. He laughed so hard upon hearing your and Griffon's screams and made the vehicle even faster.

"NERO! CAN WE SLOW DOWN?!" You hysterically begged the boy.

"No! We're gonna fly, remember?!"

"AAAHHH!"

Meanwhile, Trish and Lady were still fighting against the Demon horde below when they heard your screams.

"What's that?" Lady asked as she fired her Kalina Ann, making one Demon's face blast into bloody pieces.

"It sounds like,..." Trish said as she slowly looked up.

And there, right above that hill, the two women saw you, Nero, and Griffon, riding a weird - looking motorcycle and actually flying towards the entrance to the Dreadnought.

"How in the world - ?!" Trish exclaimed in utter awe of the reckless feat.

"They will never make it!" Lady yelled as she prepared for the worst.

"WE'LL NEVER MAKE IT!" You screamed, terrified for what will happen next.

"WE'LL CRASH!" Griffon, who seemed to have forgotten that he could easily fly away from all of this, hysterically added, still clinging unto your hoodie for dear life.

"NOT TODAY!" Nero answered, growling like hell as he revved the motorcycle, willing for it to land safely inside the demonic ship.

All of a sudden, Kyrie Eleison glowed even brighter than ever before with electric currents running all throughout its mechanical body. Its light blinded the Demons below, giving Trish and Lady enough time and opportunity to murder more of them.

"GGGYYYAAARRRGGGHHH!"

"SSSQQQUUUAAAWWWKKK!"

"I WON'T LET YOU DDDIIIEEE!" Nero howled as the motorcycle came into contact with the light barrier that guarded the entrance.

You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms tightly around Nero, not wanting to see yourself crash,...

But, everything seemed normal as you finally landed. You opened your eyes, seeing your uninjured body, and glanced at Nero.

"Is this it? Are we safe now?" You asked, unable to believe that you just flew a motorcycle towards the monstrous - looking ship

"Seems like it." Nero answered you with a bashful smile.

"Look at this!" Griffon exclaimed in both awe and fear as he looked all over the place.

From the outside, Shinano Musashi looked like a huge hunk of demonic - looking metal with strange horns and protrusions. An impossibly huge mechanism that could float on the sky.

However, inside it was a different story, altogether. The Dreadnought may look robotic and lifeless on the outside but, its insides surely looked like the innards of a monster. Huge veins of both purple and red crawled all over the fleshy, bloody walls, and there was a distinct scent of sulfur wafting about the place. The floors were entirely filled with pools of a crimson - colored liquid that felt sticky when stepped on. Strange green crystals that provided some form of light protruded on the walls of flesh, and different moans of both pain and suffering could be heard echoing all over the place.

It was as if you entered a floating hell.

"What a putrid smell!" The demonic bird complained as he finally let go of your hoodie.

"I actually agree with you, little chicken." Nero answered as he merely dodged a sticky yellow substance that dripped from the pulsating ceiling.

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?! YOU UNGRATEFUL, SON OF A - !"

"It's calling me."

Both Nero and Griffon looked at you as you got off of Kyrie Eleison and started walking deeper towards the cavern of the Dreadnought.

"Who is calling you?" The bird questioned as he flew towards you.

"I,... don't know,..." You answered. You, then, turned and glanced back at your two companions, your eyes looking heavy and empty as if in a trance. "It's calling my name. Can't you hear it?"

"No!" The young Devil Hunter and the demonic familiar simultaneously answered.

"There it is. I'm,... coming,..." You said monotonously as you looked away from them and continued walking.

"(Y/N), don't go there alone!" The boy called after you, then clicked his tongue in annoyance. He dismounted and went after you together with the bird.

A few hours of endless walking and various turns deep inside the Dreadnought led you to a slightly different room with less wet flesh and pulsating veins.

You stopped walking as soon as you noticed the quiet and much darker atmosphere. You looked up, wondering who called you there and noticed a subtle glow of light right in front of you in the form of a floating orb.

As soon as Nero saw this orb, he protectively pulled you away as he took out his Blue Rose and pointed at it.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, (Y/N) but, I don't trust this fairy dust." The boy said as he faced the suspicious - looking orb.

"I don't think it wants a conversation with you right now, kid." Griffon told him as he perched at your right arm.

All of a sudden, the orb grew bigger, casting numerous malicious - looking shadows on the walls. Nero took a step away from it, shielding his eyes from the blinding light until it imploded, leaving the whole room in darkness.

"What happened?!" Griffon squawked as he looked around for potential danger.

"I don't know but, I have a bad feeling about this,..." the boy answered as he drew The Red Queen in preparation for a battle.

A few moments later, all three of you heard a noise coming from the far end of the room. Your heart suddenly became heavier as a black mass went towards you.

Nero revved his Red Queen, ready to attack the enemy, when, suddenly,...

"Kyrie?" Nero uttered, bewildered to find the woman he loved standing in front of him. "Sweetheart, what are you doing here?"

Your eyes widened as you noticed the sinister smile on Kyrie's face.

Something was off!

"Nero! Wait - !"

When he was about to reach out to his lover, a strange kind of light in the form of multiple dark whips emanated from her, throwing the boy towards the other end of the room.

"Griffon, please!" You asked the familiar as you took out your rapier and shield.

"No need to tell me!" The bird answered as it gathered its power for an attack -

"Don't you dare hurt her!" Nero screamed as he finally stood up.

"Can't ya see, kid?! This chick's not yer fling! She - SSSQQQUUUAAAWWWKKK!"

"GRIFFON!" You yelled as one of the whips of dark light coming from the creature impersonating Kyrie grabbed one of the demonic avian's talons and practically threw him away with much force. The bird landed on the ground beside Nero, which left you as the last fighter standing.

You drew your weapon and carefully walked towards the enemy when it suddenly looked at you with its sinister eyes and evil smile. It engulfed itself with its dark light once more, and when it subsided, you saw, in horror, the poet standing before you.

"WHAT IN THE SCHTICK?!" Griffon swore, his golden eyes wide with both humor and fear.

"V?!" Nero muttered in confusion. "(Y/N), look out!"

Before you could even attack, the man strode towards you, raised his hand with the metal cane, and brought it swiftly down on your face, wounding you and making you stumble to the ground.

Your hand automatically went up your cheek and felt something moist from it. You looked at your fingers - blood.

"GET AWAY FROM HER, YOU CHEAP V RIP - OFF FROM HELL!" Griffon shrieked as he flew towards the creature. He released a strong electric attack with the full intention of killing the enemy.

However, the "cheap V rip - off" simply dodged it, flawlessly jumping in mid - air and hitting Griffon with his cane with unbelievable strength. The bird landed on the ground with an ugly thud.

"Nobody told me he's not sissy like his real counterpart!" Griffon quipped as he tried to get up from the ground. But then, the enemy stepped on him and drove his cane deep into his flesh, instantly making him enter his stalemate state.

"Griffon!" You quickly stood up and ran towards the familiar but the enemy whacked you with his cane once more, this time, straight on your back.

"FUCK YOU!" Nero swore as he charged towards the fake V. The enemy noticed this and changed back to Kyrie. The boy did a mistake of stopping in his tracks, making the enemy attack him once more with its dark whips. He came flying towards the other end of the room, feeling fresh wounds and multiple injuries all over his body.

"TAKE THIS!" You screamed at the top of your lungs as you whacked your shield on Kyrie's back, making it stumble. Then, you hastily went to Nero's side, helping him on his feet.

"We can't attack it like this!" Nero thundered as he stood up, giving the enemy an angry look for taking the form of a person as pure and as angelic as Kyrie.

You looked at him, knowing exactly what the enemy's weakness was. "Nero, listen to me. That is not Kyrie - "

"I know! You don't have to tell me!"

"But, just now, you hesitated to attack her!"

Nero punched the ground in frustration. You grabbed his arm and made him look up at you.

"We'll attack it together! Come on, Nero! We have to do this!"

A few minutes later of quick strategizing, the two of you came charging towards the enemy. You took turns attacking it, Nero with his Red Queen and you with your rapier. However, the enemy also switched from Kyrie to V, confusing you and unintentionally opening yourselves for its deadly attacks.

Nero, on the other hand, had enough and slashed the enemy's torso the moment it turned back to V. It drew back in shock, clutching its wounded stomach, then turned to you two with murder and malice in its now red eyes. It dropped its cane on the ground and changed back to Kyrie, extending one of its whips and pinned Nero to the wall, fatally wounding him.

Just when you were about to attack it, it rapidly went back to V, waved its arms, and summoned mulitple blades of blue light that rapidly went down on you like bullets.

Nero watched helplessly as the enemy rained its blades of light down upon you, wounding you to the point that you could no longer get up. He wanted to retaliate but, when he tried to even move a muscle, the shape - shifting creature only pinned him to the wall again with its dark whip of light, injuring him even more.

You looked up at Nero, feeling the endless lashes on your battered body. You reached a single hand towards him, wanting to help him despite your torture. Bloody and torn, he also reached out to you,...

That's when you saw it.

His Breaker suddenly disintegrated and turned into ashes. The boy was engulfed in a warm kind of blue light that instantly healed all of his wounds and injuries. Slowly and like a true miracle, the blue light that engulfed his right arm took form, morphing into something more solid,...

... turning into real flesh,...

His eyes widened at the sight. He forcefully grabbed the dark whip that imprisoned him using his newly formed right arm and almost melted it with the sheer light and warmth it radiated.

The enemy took notice of this and abruptly halted its attack on you, turning into Kyrie once more but, this time, more evil and seductive - looking than ever. And with more dark whips that surrounded its whole body like numerous tails.

"Your tricks are getting too old, you bitch." Nero quipped as he motioned for the enemy to come closer. "I'll make you pay for this!"

With wide eyes filled with wonder, you watched as the youth fought the enemy with ease, wounding it, tearing it apart with his bare hands, and exposing it for what it really was. The beating went on for three unbearable minutes, and when it finally went down to the ground helpless and dying, he went towards you to help you stand.

Grabbing his warm right arm, you spoke, "This is a miracle!"

"I know." Nero answered as he supported you.

You turned towards the dark, beaten, writhing mass on the ground that was the remnants of Kyrie and limped your way to it with Nero still on your heel.

"Who called me here?" You asked it, foolishly believing that it could somehow shed light to the mystery of the Dreadnought and the voice that was calling you.

However, it made one last dying effort to morph once more into V to confuse you. But, the V this time never had the chance to even lay its fingers on you as it remained on the ground beaten and broken.

You felt a pang of guilt as you looked at it and realized that it was only making you feel that way to defeat you.

With one last sigh of apathy towards the enemy, you took Nero's Red Queen from him, held it above your head, and plunged it to V's heart, making it writhe and wriggle even more with pain. Feeling your tears pour out of your tired eyes for this unspeakable creature for exposing your true emotions, you plunged the hot sword even deeper, skewering its heart and reducing the enemy down to its true form - a short and wrinkled creature, about four feet in height, with long twisted claws, sharp red eyes, green skin, and skinny legs. You took the sword out of its body and slashed its head, decapitating it and finally putting an end to it once and for all. The remains of the despicable creature caught on fire and slowly turned into ashes.

You gave the sword back to Nero as you collapsed on the ground.

"So, that's how Mina felt when she decapitated Dracula." You sighed as you settled on the ground to make yourself comfortable. "Oh, that's wrong. That's no Dracula,..."

"Why Kyrie? Why not somebody else?" The youth asked as he watched the creature's ashes get flown by the wind.

You sighed, feeling the massive weight on your heart and shoulders. "It only reflects how much you love a person. The enemy used it against you because it knew it would be your biggest weakness."

Nero looked at you in dismay. "So, you still love him,... V?"

You blinked twice, not sure if your heart could take any more pain. You, then, let out a long sigh of depression. "After all this time. Yes." You answered, wincing in pain as you touched one bloody wound on your arm.

"Hey, you should fall back now, you can't fight like this!" The boy pleaded as you let him support you.

However, the moment your skin made contact with his new arm once again, a new set of visions flashed through your mind about him. It was rapid, and yet,...

You only shook your head in disagreement. "Don't mind me. I'll be fine."

"You'll be fine?! What are you - ?"

Nero's sentence was cut off as he saw, with his own two eyes, how the wounds on your body miraculously healed. He watched the phenomenon in total shock, and when your last wound closed, he could only laugh in disbelief.

"Don't tell me you're immortal?!" Nero questioned you.

"And what does that make you?" You asked him as you gave a knowing look on his new right arm.

"Come on, (Y/N). I'm serious here! How did you - ?"

"You never asked how Griffon came to be my familiar." You cut him off. "And you never asked why my eyes are red. I know Nico told you everything. But, the question is,..." You said, giving him a questioning look as you raised an eyebrow. "... how much do you know?"

The youth could only gulp down in nervousness, his sweat running cold in the process. "Everything."

"Oh."

"FUCK YEAH! What? Hey, what did I miss?" Griffon, who was just fully healed and revived, asked as he flew down towards the two of you.

"Nero pulled a rabbit out of his sleeve." You answered without so much as a fuss.

"Really? Oh, wait. You're being sarcastic - !"

"Which brings me to my next agenda." You said as you held up a hand to silence Griffon. "Nero,..."

"What is it, (Y/N)?"

You looked into the youth's sincere eyes, deciding whether to tell him what you just saw or not, then shook your head.

"Forget I said anything." You quietly answered as you stood up.

"I know you saw something about me. Tell me!"

You narrowed your eyes at the boy.

Well,...

He had the right to know!

"Listen: do you know Luke Skywalker? The Jedi?" You asked him as you removed your shredded parka, letting Nero take a glimpse of the contract markings on your right arm.

"Luke,... Skywalker? I'm not sure I could follow,..."

"Yeah, the woman likes movies, ya know?" Griffon added as he perched on your arm.

"So, what does this Luke have to do with me?" Nero inquired as he followed you out of the dark and depressing room.

"Hmm, I don't know. Could you say, that's impossible!"

"That's impossible! There, I said it."

"You'll say that again later."

"What do you mean by that? Hey, (Y/N)!"

You turned to glance at the boy. Taking pity on him, you spoke, "You know, you are very fortunate."

"Uh, thank you, I guess?" Nero replied, scratching his temple in confusion.

"Thank you for everything, Nero."

"Nah, it's nothing."

"Tell Kyrie I said hi."

"Sure thing."

"This will be the last time. You'll never see me again."

"Okay. WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!"

But, you were already gone before he could even ask you that last bit that Nico never told him,...

***

~ A V X Reader set in an Alternate Universe where cheap rip - offs are way stronger than the originals. 🤔

~ This chapter is dedicated to @micaelagua , @vergils-daughter , @yepps and @sofia-micaela . 🖤

~ Tagging @heaven-on-a-landslide , @lessy86 , @krazy06 , @simmy-ships , @boundbysoul , @ehrzeth , @ceruleanworld , @gxthghoulfriend , and @diabeticsugarush . 🖤

***

In silence and total darkness, V waited for you to arrive. And during those tense moments, he could only think of Fleminger's words to him.

"I know it is power you seek, my Lord. She has that power you're searching for - the power to make yourself invulnerable. The power - to put you back to your former self. Deep within the Dreadnought lies her true heart. But, piercing it would do you no good. Pierce,...

... her body first, then make her power mine. Only then can I defeat the Dreadnought." V uttered as Shadow morphed into an indistinguishable form before him. "Only then,... can I truly become,...

... whole. Once more."

At those final words, something huge behind him pulsated, splashing the suffocating room with its sickly crimson glow and casting unearthly shadows before the poet.

V looked down on his hands. His crumbling flesh. His time,... was coming to an end.

And so, he shall soon receive the power,...

"Come to me, my love." He called for the third time, knowing that you would come to him right away without hesitation,...

***

🖤🖤🖤

***

~ 15 ~

***

#devil may cry 5 #v #i see my future before me #v x reader #v x you #devil may cry nero #devil may cry kyrie #devil may cry nico #devil may cry trish #devil may cry lady #devil may cry griffon #devil may cry shadow #you've got a friend #carole king #chapter 22

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sweet-pea-imagines · 6 years ago

Text

The Act (Sweet Pea X Reader) (Lyric Imagine) Requested.

Request: Can you do a sweet pea x reader to the song 18 by anarbor?

Requested by: @skeletalwolfcat

Summary: All you wanted to do was prove to your parents that you were grown up…that you didn’t need them. Not only did you prove your point to them, but you fell for you partner in crime along the way.

Warnings: probably cussing, underage drinking, fighting, implied verbal abuse.

Word Count: 5,876

Just a quick note, this is my first imagine based from a song! The lyrics will be in bold. Some of them will be before certain paragraphs setting up for the scenario, and some will be said by characters themselves. Sorry lol, I’m over explaining. Anyway! Here we go….

You and Sweet Pea had known each other since the fourth grade. Naturally, you two became best friends pretty quickly. Your calm demeanor balanced out his spazziness, and vice versa. Everyone always said that you two would be the perfect couple, however that never happened…well, until you both graduated.

18, crazy

It all started at a wild graduation party at some random Northsider’s house the weekend after graduation. Sweet Pea had somehow managed to convince you to go to said party, after much persuading and eventually a promise of chocolate and a movie afterwards. Of course, you agreed. You were his best friend, you had to be with him at the graduation party.

“Oh, come on Y/N,” Sweet Pea said, nudging your shoulder as he drove. “It’ll be fun! I promise.”

“It better be,” you grumbled. “I don’t want to have to go outside for no good reason.” He chuckled at your introverted self and turned his eyes back on the road.

After a short drive the two of you arrived at the house party. You couldn’t help but notice how secluded the house was. Already, there was blasting music pulsing from inside the house. Teens sat on the porch; some dancing, some drinking, and a younger couple sat on the porch swing making out. Wonderful, you thought as you stepped down from the Sweet Pea’s truck. You immediately crossed your arms and waited for him to come around for you.

“Aw, come on bashful,” he said. His large arm wrapped around your shoulder as you walked up the path to the house. He knew how anxious you got in social situations. “I will stay with you all night okay? You will not be leaving my sight.”

“Pinky swear?” You held up your little finger to him. He chuckled, but locked pinkies with you, nonetheless.

“Pinky swear.”

That promise lasted maybe ten minutes until you slipped away from him as he talked to a friend and got hopelessly lost. People didn’t even bother to watch out for you, rather just shoving you out of the way. You began to panic rather quickly considering you barely knew anyone here other than Sweet Pea. This house is fucking huge, you thought to yourself as you found your way outside. There was a pool and hot tub, surrounded by tipsy teens. Scanning the crowd for any sign of your friend, you caught the eye of an obviously drunk guy across the pool from you. He was giving you the stare, making you increasingly uncomfortable as he licked his lips. You rolled your eyes and turned on your heel, taking your search elsewhere.

Finding yourself inside once more, you shrugged passed people, throwing manners out the window. You were stressed and lost and tired. Soon you found yourself at the drink table. Not trusting any of the punch there, you sat against the wall beside the table and pulled out your phone. You’d barely been at the party for half an hour, and you already felt more anxious than you could have anticipated. With shaky hands you typed a quick message to Sweet Pea, telling him where you were and that you were freaking out.

“Come on Pea, where are you?” you mumbled to yourself after a few minutes. Although you really wanted to, you didn’t leave your position, but stood from your seat and stretched to see above the crowd.

“You need some help there baby?” It was the creepy guy from the pool. Scoffing, you turned away.

“I’m good, thanks.”

The guy was suddenly right behind you, breathing in your ear. You gagged at the smell of his rank breath. Before you could walk away, he grabbed your waist, pulling you towards him.

“Let go.” You said sternly. Only, he didn’t listen, but rather slid one hand down to your ass. That set you off. Without another word, you spun around and packed all your weight behind your elbow, hitting him dead on the nose. “I said to the let me fucking go!” you screamed as he stumbled into the table, falling on his ass. People turned around and stared at you.

“You fucking bitch,” the guy stood up and tried to lunge at you. Sweet Pea intercepted him, punching him in the gut before throwing him back into the wall.

“Sweets, let’s just go, please.” Your eyes welled with tears and panic. As soon as he heard your voice, he turned around. You grabbed his arm and urged him through the crowd, tears streaming down your face. As soon as you got outside and into his truck, you started apologizing profusely.

“I’m so sorry Pea,” you cried. “I didn’t mean to run off and ruin your night. I-I should’ve stayed home. I should’ve—”

“Hey, no, no. You didn’t ruin my night. Aw, come ‘ere,” he cooed, pulling you closer to him as you shook. He knew if he didn’t calm you down soon, you’d go into full panic attack mode. He wrapped his arms around you, laying your head on his chest so he could smooth your hair. “You did nothing wrong Y/N, nothing wrong at all.”

“I—I got you in—in a fight,” you stuttered, crying harder. He gently kissed the top of your head, calming your sobs before responding.

“When have I ever been mad about getting in a fight?” he chuckled lightly. The rumble of his laugh the calm thrum of his heart had calmed you down enough to laugh quietly. You sat up slowly. “There she is,” he grinned at you. “Now, how about we ditch this lame ass party and get some milkshakes yeah?” You grinned widely and nodded. “Buckle up.” You took the middle seat, rather than the window, wanting to be closer to him.

Pulled up in your daddy’s car

The low rumble of your dad’s SUV pulling into the trailer park early the next morning woke Sweet Pea up. Alarmed at your early appearance, he jumped out of bed and unlocked the door. As he pulled it open, he saw a peek of your tear-stricken face. You climbed the porch slowly, wiping away your tears.

“Hey Sunshine,” he greeted. As soon as you heard his voice you burst into tears.

“They kicked me out,” you cried. Pea pulled you into a bear hug and led you inside.

“They don’t deserve to have you in their house anyway,” he said, sitting beside you on the couch.

“Pea…where am I gonna go? I have no one!” You tried to compose yourself but failed miserably. He let you lay on his shoulder.

“No, you have me. You will always, always, have me.” His blood boiled at the fact that your parents would just throw you out. You were only a few months over 18, it was just sick. “Hey, listen, you wanna move in with me? You’ll have a home.” Guess we’re off to a heavy start, you thought.

“Oh Sweets, I can’t let you do that,” you said, sitting up finally. “I don’t wanna be a bother.”

“You’re not going to be. And yes, you can. You are staying here. Deal with it,” he smiled. You tackled him in a hug, your tears of pain turning into tears of happiness.

“Thank you, Sweet Pea, so much.”

…

“Why do you put things up so high?” You stood on your toes, trying to grab the salt from the cupboard. You had insisted on making a real dinner for your first night staying with Sweet Pea.

“Because I’m not short like you are!” Sweet Pea replied, reaching above you. He handed you the seasoning as you slapped his arm.

“I am not short!” you protested. “I am average height. You, on the other hand, are simply a tree.” He chuckled, turning away from you to sauté some vegetables for your stir-fry. The two of you laughed and danced to Queen as you made dinner.

For the first time in a long time, you had fun…something you thought wouldn’t ever find you again. And yet, it did; in the form of Sweet Pea. He was your knight in shining armor, your bright sun after a rainy day, your happiness after weeks of being left in the dark. Because of him, you felt like you finally belonged somewhere…right here, dancing in the kitchen to music way before your time with your best friend.

As Sweet Pea stood staring at you snapping your fingers to Another One Bites the Dust, he couldn’t help but feel something that heated him from the inside out. It was a feeling that brought color to his cheeks, a smile to his face. His thoughts wandered to a far place where he could protect you, make you happy forever.….no, oh no, no, no, he thought to himself. You cannot like her. It hit him very suddenly. He never thought he’d like you that way, but when he looked back, even by a few hours, he had for a while. Should’ve seen this coming from a mile away, he thought.

“It’s doooooone!” you exclaimed, spinning in multiple circles, finally bowing. Sweet Pea chuckled and clapped.

“You’re worried.” Sweet Pea had been watching you eating. Not in a creepy way, you were just quieter than usual. You sat across from him at the coffee table, eyebrows scrunched as you ate. Your gaze snapped up to meet his, you blushed.

“Am not.”

“I’ve known you for what? 8 years now?” he sighed. “I think I’d know if my best friend was worried by now. Come on now, what is it?” he pointed at you with his fork. You sighed deeply, thinking for a moment.

“It’s just…I have to get my stuff from my parent’s tomorrow, and I don’t know what to do,” you mumbled. He gazed at you for a long moment. “You know how they are…. I have this aggressive feeling to just royally piss them off. To just make them so mad that they’ll finally realize that I don’t need them.” You were clenching your fists, locking your jaw. Even through your hate you saw Sweet Pea’s mouth open to say something, but close almost instantly. “What? What is it?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing,” he trailed. “Really, it was nothing.”

“You’re lying. You can’t lie to me, you’re terrible at it.”

“I just had an idea. A dumb one at that.” You waved your hands in circles, prompting him to continue. “What if we…well, just here me out here. What if we pretended to be together? Your parents have always hated me, so I was thinking—”

“That’s a brilliant idea!” You exclaimed. “They’ll hate that!” Sweet Pea was surprised by how quickly you accepted the idea. “We can hold hands and stuff! And you can call me babe or something!” You were very excited about getting back at your half ass parents. “Or better yet, I’ll call you something like that. They will be furious!” You couldn’t help but giggle excitedly at the idea. Sweet Pea chuckled at your excitement and shook his head as you rambled on about how everything was going to work out.

18 crazy

I know what you want from me

“Yes, Y/N, I know,” Sweet Pea said. You had already explained the plan to fool your parents multiple times. At this point, he wasn’t sure if you were over explaining because you were excited or nervous. Knowing you, it was probably both.

“Sorry, sorry.” You wrung your hands as Sweet Pea pulled into your parent’s driveway. “Okay. We got this,” you muttered to yourself, closing your eyes for a moment. “This will go over smoothly.”

“Uh…alright creepy…let’s get going, yeah?”

“Right, sorry.” You apologized.

“Y/N,” he warned, “we’ve talked about this. You don’t need to apologize about everything you do.”

“Yes, you’re right. Sor—no, I’m okay, just nervous. You do know what to do right?”

“Yes Y/N.” He climbed out of his truck and helped you down. His arm wrapped over your shoulders, you approached your home.

So if you wanna piss off your parents

Date me to scare them

Show them you’re all grown up

If long hair and tattoos

Are what attract you

Baby then you’re in luck

Sweet Pea knocked heavily on the front door, kissing your head just as someone yanked the door open, for affect of course.

Your dad stood in the doorway, obviously surprised by the scenario in front of him. He glared at Sweet Pea even though he was a full head shorter.

“Heeeey…Dad,” you greeted. “Came to get my stuff, since you know, you and Mom kicked me out.” Your Dad simply grumbled under his breath and stepped out of the way, barely leaving enough room for you to go through. Sweets shouldered passed. As you stepped in, you could see your mother down the hall in the kitchen. She quickly disappeared when you made eye contact with her.

“Your stuff upstairs baby?” Sweet Pea asked. You nodded, being sure to check for a reaction from your father. He looked like he was fuming but trying to hide it. Smirking, you led Sweet Pea up to your bedroom.

“Damn,” you mumbled, “they move on fast.”

You surveyed the room. There were boxes everywhere, full of all your stuff. Tears stung at the back of your eyes as you looked around at the empty room. It was like your whole childhood was packed away, held in boxes too small.

“You okay?” Sweet Pea asked suddenly, breaking you from your thoughts. You nodded, knowing your voice would deceive you if you spoke. He came to stand in front of you. His big hands lifted to cup your face. He swiped away the tears on your cheeks that you didn’t know had fallen. “You’ve always been such a bad liar.” You sniffled. And in that moment, as you stared into his chocolate brown eyes, as his hands cupped your face, you realized something. Something burned deep in your chest, and you had the sudden urge to kiss him, right then and there, even though tears were streaming gently down your face. No, no, no! you thought. You cannot like him! He’s your best friend! “Come’ ere,” he mumbled. He pulled your head into his chest, holding you as you cried.

“Sweets,” you cried into his chest, “I should-I should be here to get my-to get my stuff for-college. Not because they kicked me out!”

“Oh princess, I know, I know,” he ran his fingers through your hair as you cried harder. It was as if he could feel you falling apart at the seams in his arms. Every sob, every tear, every sniffle, was just another part of you, breaking from your body. His heart broke as yours did. This was something he couldn’t fix. He couldn’t pull you back into one piece once you fell apart, but he could try to hold you together, and try he would.

After a few minutes Sweet Pea pulled away, wiped your tears.

“Hey, look at me,” he demanded gently. “We are gonna get your stuff and go. You aren’t gonna let them see your cry okay?” You nodded quickly, wiping at your nose. He quickly kissed your forehead, making your heart jump, and started grabbing boxes.

To say your parents were pissed was an understatement. They were fuming by the time you and Sweet Pea left. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the look on their faces.

“We should do that more often,” I laughed.

“What? Piss off your parents?” he chuckled. You nodded enthusiastically. “Fuck yeah. I’m down if you are.” You grinned at him and tried to bury your feelings as you drove off.

And I know it’s just a phase

You’re not in love with me

You wanna piss off your parents baby

Piss off your parents

Without realizing it the two of you had become increasingly closer. In public he always had his arm around your shoulders, occasionally whispering in your ear, making you giggle. More often than not he called you princess or babygirl; you’d call him Sweets. He’d often sneak up behind you at the Wyrm to pick you up, spinning you around. He loved the way you squealed and laughed.

Your parents surely thought you were dating. On the rare occasion that you saw them in public, they refused to make eye contact with you. It broke your heart a little more every damn time. And Sweet Pea knew how broken you felt, he could see it whenever someone mentioned their parents. But slowly, over the course of a couple of months, he gradually helped you to collect all your pieces and put you back together. He replaced your now heartbreaking family memories into joyful ones full of laughter, friends, and love. So much love.

Even your friends were starting to believe you two were dating. Toni and Fangs were constantly gossiping about how much they shipped it. They asked you and Sweet Pea often if you were together, dating, or sleeping together. And no matter how many times you said you were just friends, they never believed you.

However, Sweet Pea felt deep down that what you two had wasn’t real. He felt that he knew that you were just going through a phase of being in love with your bad boy best friend. As much as he wished that you felt the same, he knew you didn’t. To him it didn’t matter how many times you kissed his cheek or told him you loved him in public, it was all an act. You weren’t in love with him, you couldn’t be in love with someone like him. In his mind you were too good for him. Smart, loving, caring, cheery, selfless, the list went on and on…he was none of those. He could never—

“Sweets. Sweets! Hey!” You were waving your hand at him from the kitchen. He snapped out of his thoughts and looked up at you.

“Yeah?” You laughed at his dazed state.

“Do you want a beer with your dinner?” You emphasized every word slowly, holding in your laughter.

“Oh, uh no. I’m good,” he replied groggily. He hadn’t realized that he was dozing off on the couch.

“Okay,” you chuckled. You turned away and started plating dinner again. He couldn’t help but watch you as you worked. And he suddenly realized something.

That’s alright with me

It didn’t matter if this was all an act on your part, or if every hug and sweet whispers and ‘I love you’ was fake, because your smile was always real. Your laughter at his dumb jokes? Real. The blush that creeped up your cheeks when he kissed your head? Real. Every bit of joy he brought to you was real, and that’s all that mattered. If he could bring a smile to your face on a bad day, then this trick on your parents was alright with him.

You know I’m broke

As much as he tried to hide it, you knew Sweet Pea was stressed. There was bills to pay and food to buy, and he was just dead ass broke. He hadn’t had a run for FP in weeks. His last pay all went to bills. That was before you got a job though.

“I can always help you know,” you said.

It was well after midnight and Sweet Pea was out on the couch, trying to figure out how many shifts at the motorcycle shop he could work. You had been sleeping in his bed since you moved in, and he passed out on the couch’s pull out each night, refusing to make you sleep on the couch.

“No, not gonna happen,” he replied sternly. You sighed and approached him. Folding your legs to your side, you sat down beside him, resting an arm on his hunched shoulder.

“You’re gonna have to let me help out eventually hun.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Sweets, I can help, you know that,” you leaned forward to look at him.

“You shouldn’t have to though,” he sighed, running a tired hand through his already messy locks.

“Well, I can and I’m going to,” you concluded.

So you pulled out your daddy’s card

“Where are you going?” You jogged down the hall to the bedroom as Sweet Pea called after you. Grabbing your tote bag, you padded back to him quickly. You plopped back on the couch beside him, bag in your lap. When you couldn’t find what you were looking for, you resulted to dumping your bag out on the coffee table. “What are you doing? You’re making a mess!” Sweet Pea exclaimed.

“I couldn’t find my wallet,” you stated, as if that explained why you just made a huge mess on his coffee table.

“Probably because you have twelve books in your bag.”

“Are you throwing shade at my books?” He shrugged in response, making you laugh. “And I actually have four, well, three. Four including my planner.”

“Why do you need a planner? You don’t do anything!”

“First of all, that was rude!” you chided. You grabbed your wallet and started opening it, fighting receipts that threatened to fall out. “Second, I’m not arguing with you about my books right now.” This time he laughed. Finally, you found what you were looking for. “Aha! Here, use this.”

“What is—is this your dad’s debit card?” He was alarmed, taking the plastic card from you.

“Well, no. Not technically. My name is on the account, meaning only I can take money out. His name is just on the card,” you explained to a confused Sweets. “He made a bank account for me when I was little and put money in it almost every payday.”

“What was the money for?” he asked. He knew you weren’t telling him the full story.

“Um…”

“Tell me.” His tone and look were stern.

“College…”

“No! Absolutely not! We are not using that!” He exclaimed. “That is money meant to get you through college babe, not to pay bills.”

“Sweets come on. Let me help just this once, please?” you begged. “Just this one time, then I’ll get a job and we won’t have to use my college funds, please.” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes, hands clasped at your chest.

“I—” he fought for an answer for a moment. “Fine! Just stop looking at me like that.” You laughed and hugged him quickly. “Just this once Y/N, no more.”

***

No matter how much Sweet Pea told himself that none of this mattered because it was all a game, he still couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t good enough for you. Even if this was all fake, he still wasn’t good enough. But you still managed to change his mind sometimes.

“Come on Pea!” You were currently trying to tug him to the pool tables, not even making him budge. “Pleeeeeeaaase?” You pleaded. He caved instantly when he saw your puppy dog eyes.

“Okay, whatever. Fine!”

“Yay!” You pulled him over and grabbed a stick to chalk it. He followed in suit. “Okay, where do we start?” You asked excitedly. For the next hour he taught you how to hold your cue just right and how to make your perfect shot. He loved how happy he could make you. He began to think that maybe this could be real. But he grabbed a beer to sip and realized he was wrong. No, he thought, I’m not good enough for her. I drink, I smoke.

“I really shouldn’t be drinking around you,” he said. You gave him a confused look.

“What? Why?” you asked. “I don’t mind. Plus, I think stoners are kind of hot,” you winked playfully, making him laugh. He never actually smoke cigarettes, just pot.

“I mean yeah. You ate it up from the very start,” he chuckled. Your friends sat at the bar, a good ways away, watching their two best friends flirt and laugh.

“There is no way they aren’t dating!” Toni exclaimed.

“Maybe they’re just hooking up on the down low,” Fangs suggested, sipping his beer.

“No way! They have to be dating.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Just watch the way they look at each other Fangs. Or the way they talk to each other. They are both just so happy when the other is around,” She concluded. Fangs shrugged in response, then smiled when he realized she was right. He could see how much love and affection was in your eyes when you looked at Sweet Pea. And he could see how much Sweet Pea reciprocated it.

“Should’ve seen this coming from a mile away,” Fangs admitted. Toni nodded in agreement. Neither one could stop smiling as they watched their two best friends slowly fall deeper and deeper into one another.

I’ll play your game

I know what you want from me

You and Sweet Pea had been in the grocery store when you saw them. They stood at the other end of the aisle, not noticing you as you reached for a bottle of olive oil. Sweet Pea followed your gaze and noticed them as well. You gave him a pleading look as they were about to turn around, knowing they’d see you. As much as he was hating this all being fake, he complied.

So if you wanna piss off your parents

Date me to scare them

Show they your all grown up

As your parents turned around, Sweet Pea slid one hand into your back pocket, using the other to grab the bottle for you. You giggled genuinely when he slid into your pocket, making him chuckle. He through the bottle into the cart and turned you to face him, resting his empty hand on your hip.

If long hair and tattoos are what attract you

Baby then you’re in luck

You ran your fingers through his long hair before tracing his neck tattoo with your finger. Out of the corner of your eye you caught your parents looking.

“I love you Sweet Pea,” you said softly. It was barely loud enough for them to hear, but they did. They turned away and stormed off down the aisle. Laughing, the two of you broke off from each other and continued on with your shopping trip.

It had been an exhausting day for the both of you. After a late dinner, the two of you settled on the couch, eventually finding your self on his chest where you dozed off. Sweet Pea ran his fingers through your soft hair as the movie played. Looking down at you, he couldn’t fight the knot in his chest. Ever since you said you loved him in the store, he’d been thinking. Thinking about how genuine it seemed, how happy you were. He couldn’t shake the feeling that it seemed like you meant it. He wanted to tell you how he felt, so bad it hurt. Wanted to tell you how happy you made him. How much he loved you. How much he wanted to make you feel like the most amazing girl in the world…because to him you were.

“Y/N,” he muttered softly. “Y/N.” He was a bit louder this time. When you didn’t respond, he took it as a sign.

“I love you,” he began. “And if I’m being honest, I have for a long time. It hurts. I just want you to feel the same, and sometimes it seems like you do. I want this to be real, all of it. But I can’t forget that it’s not. That you’re not mine. And I know it’s just a phase, you’re not in love with me. You just wanna piss off your parents baby…yeah, piss off your parents. But if I can make you happy, even for a little bit…that’s alright with me.”

You woke up to the Sun shining right in your eyes. Groaning, you rolled over, searching for someone. But he wasn’t there. He never slept in the same bed with you, which you hated. Although, he did let you fall asleep with him on the couch last night, laying on his chest. He must’ve carried me back here. Picking up your phone, you smiled at how it was plugged in, another thing he must’ve done for you.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, surprised. It was already nearly noon, which wasn’t terribly late, but you would’ve thought you’d wake up by now. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you made your way lazily down the hall into the kitchen. Sweet Pea was sat on the couch, already dressed and ready for the day.

“Well good morning sleeping beauty,” he greeted. You waved at him as you yawned and stretched, a smile on your face. You plopped down onto the couch beside him and snuggled into his side. Out of habit, he wrapped his arm around your frame. The two of you sat in silence, except for whatever football game was on, for a few minutes before he spoke up. “Want some coffee?”

“Yes please,” you replied. He couldn’t hide his smile as he stood up. “I love you so much,” you sighed gratefully as he handed you your coffee.

“No you don’t,” he said sharply. “Don’t say that.”

“Wait—yes I do. What—” you stuttered, searching your head for the right words.

“No you don’t. Now stop it.” He gave you a warning glance. Is he actually mad at me about this? You thought.

“What is your problem?” You looked at him from your side of the couch, confused at how fast his mood changed.

“You’re not allowed to say that you love me. Not here.”

“What the hell do you mean Sweet Pea? I tell you that all the time. I tell everyone that.” He stood up and stormed into the kitchen, trying to put some distance between the two of you. Setting down your cup, you looked up at him from across the room.

I know what you want from me, he thought.

So if you wanna piss off your parents

“Yeah, you can tell your friends that you love me. You can make your parents think you love me to make them mad. I don’t care about that.” He clenched his jaw. You opened your mouth to speak but closed it again.

Date me to scare them

“But don’t you ever say it to me again, especially when we are alone.” He paused. You searched his face for answers to what was happening. “This was all just some fake relationship so you could piss off your parents, show them you’re all grown up.

If long hair and tattoos are what attract you

Baby then you’re in luck

“Sweet Pea…” you sighed. “I don’t understand. You agreed to this.” Your voice was becoming harsher as you spoke longer. Frustration was boiling in your stomach.

“Yeah, I did,” he admitted. “But I didn’t think it would be so real.” He stared at you for a moment, eventually looking away.

“What do you mean?” you wanted answers.

“I mean that I—”

“You what Sweet Pea?” You asked gently. You stood up and approached him.

“I love you,” he said. “And I hate that I do.” His voice was cold, his face stony.

“I love you too,” you admitted.

“Stop lying to me!” He snapped.

“I’m not lying to you!” you yelled back, fists clenched. He refused to meet your eyes.

“I know it’s just a phase. You’re not in love with me.”

And I know it’s just a phase, you’re not in love with me.

“Why don’t you believe me?” Your hands shook as tears welled in your eyes.

“Because—” he paused. “This was never supposed to happen. This was all supposed to be an act to make your parents regret leaving you behind. But ever since that first night…I can’t help but hope this is real…somehow.” He looked so vulnerable; guard down, face softened.

“Sweet Pea…” tears slipped down your cheeks. He looked up when he heard you sniffle. “Why do you think I kept this going? Why do you think I didn’t stop playing this game…?... I fell in love you,” a sob broke your words. “so hard.” His heart sunk. Why hadn’t he seen it all along? For months the two of you had been falling for each other and no one knew. Neither one of you knew…

“I—I’m sorry.” In two long strides he was in front of you. He took your face in his hands.

You wanna piss off your parents baby

Piss off your parents

That’s alright

You wanna piss off your parents baby

Piss of your parents

That’s alright with me

And he pressed his lips against yours. You melted into the kiss, lips molding perfectly into his. It was as if your lips were meant to align, like you were meant to be kissing him, and only him. Butterflies and fireworks ignited in your stomach, bringing heat to your cheeks that he could surely feel as his big hands cupped your face.

The kiss was slow…and gentle. Oh, so gentle. Tears still fell from your eyes and you were sure they were of relief.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you lifted yourself onto your toes. His hands fell to your hips, holding you flush against him. And you kissed for what seemed like hours but was only a few perfect little moments.

He pulled away breathlessly, resting his forehead against yours. Smiles of relief and pure joy broke onto both of your faces. A breathy laugh escaped your lips. Your eyes fluttering closed, you moved your hands to his shoulders.

“I knew it had to be real,” Sweet Pea whispered.

“It was always real love.”

“I’ve waited so long for this. I love you so much Y/N.”

“I love you two Sweet Pea.”

The next day, the two of you walked into the Wyrm, hand in hand. Toni and Fangs could tell by the looks on your faces that it was official.

“It’s about damn time,” Toni smiled widely.

“You guys look good together,” Fangs added.

You blushed as Sweet Pea pulled you onto his lap, kissing your temple. You turned just enough to kiss him on the lips. Everyone cheered. Apparently, you were the only two who didn’t see what you had. But finally, after a long wait, both of you knew.

I am so sorry this took so long to write. I have been in a serious writing rut lately, but finally I just hunkered down and wrote this. It took me about the span of a week to write and it is the longest thing I’ve ever written anywhere. I am so in love with it and so proud of how it turned out. I hope you all loved it too. I love you all and thank you for being so patient with me.

Tag list: @madaboutlili @mareenxbr @cassieluci @xhannahxjaynexx @sweetpeas-sweetpea @choke-me-sweet-pea

#sweet pea #imagines #sweet pea imagines #fluff #sweet pea fluff blurbs

141 notes · View notes

ashwayssunny · 5 years ago

Note

Macdennis playing 7 minutes in heaven 👀

hi anon! thank you for a requesting a prompt!! here you go, i hope you like it!! :)

Tim Murphy had explained the rules of the game as eloquently as he could, but no one yet had moved to make a first selection. Dennis estimated there were fifteen to twenty of them huddled around a hat which held each of their names on a slip of paper. Tim Murphy hadn’t even technically invited them to this party, but an entire swath of classmates with whom he had no real relationship had descended upon the get-together like a school of fish, having heard about it in a hundred different games of telephone, finding safety in the anonymity of each other. Tim was too plastered by the time they all arrived to care that the party was far over capacity.

Dennis had planned on going anyway, of course, but the cover of others made it much easier for him to sneak in Dee, Ronnie the Rat, and Dirtgrub, and he was pleased that neither of them had caused too much of a fuss thus far. Charlie hadn’t thrown his name in the ring, but Dennis watched as Ronnie snuck a piece of paper from the pile, scribbled his new nickname ‘Mac’ as quickly as he could, and tossed it in with such stealth it actually impressed him.

The object of the game, Tim had explained, was to spend seven minutes alone in a closet with the person whose name was chosen alongside your own. There were few ground rules, except that the lights must be out, the door must be locked, and every non-chosen ear must be pressed against the door, listening. Dennis hoped to score with Nikki Potnick; out of the girls who’d submitted their names, she was by far the best looking, and Dennis hadn’t been involved with the incident which had led to the destruction of her car; in fact, he’d taken extra precautions to make sure Nikki never saw him with Ronnie – sorry, Mac – or Charlie the whole night. Now was his time.

He wondered arbitrarily if Mac was after the same thing, wanting both to revel in the genius of Dennis’s plan while also preparing to steal his thunder. Dennis wouldn’t let that happen tonight. He’d make sure of it.

“Somebody’s gotta go first,” Tim slurred. “How ‘bout I just pick?”

Noises of agreement came from the group. Dennis made no reaction, betrayed no emotion. He caught Dee’s gaze as she sat across from him in the circle, and he wondered if the universe could possibly be cruel enough to pair them together. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if his sister was paired with someone else either, but to lose his chance with Nikki to such a disappointing partner… he scowled at the idea.

Tim hiccuped, the beer in his palm sloshing in the bottle as he reached out and retrieved two strips of paper from the hat. The group collectively held back breath as he read the name on the slip once, twice, a third time before smirking a bit. “Dennis,” he blurted, and all eyes turned to him.

The look of determination on Dennis’s face was set in stone. Some of the girls around the circle looked intrigued, some seemed a little more uneasy, but everyone was surely interested. Tim flipped the first paper behind the second, and at the sight of the second name, his face traveled through several different unidentifiable emotions before landing on a positively mischievous grin.

“Damnnnnnn,” he said, elongating the word, “it’s Ronnie the Rat!”

Several members of the group burst into full-on laughter, but everyone snickered. “Wow, dream come true for you guys, huh?” Tim mocked.

Dennis’s blood ran cold. He was sure the color had drained completely from his place, but he fought against every instinct in his body and kept his expression entirely neutral. “Pick someone else,” he said evenly. “Two dudes can’t do it.”

“Yeah, you can’t do seven minutes in heaven with your bro!” Mac exclaimed from across the circle. He and Dennis avoided eye contact like it would kill them. It only elicited a fresh wave of laughter from the group, and Dennis felt his ears growing hot.

“I don’t know, I mean…” Tim Murphy trailed off, taking a long swig of his beer and burping without losing an ounce of smugness from his face. Dennis wanted to bash his teeth in. “The rules say you can’t change the names that you pick, so…”

“You never said that in the rules!” Dennis’s voice hitched on the final syllable, but he fought desperately to keep calm, digging his nails into his pant leg.

“I also didn’t invite you to my party.”

Another round of laughter. Dennis’s fists clenched so tightly he feared he would break his own fingers.

“We should’ve made, like, a thing for dudes and a thing for chicks,” Mac pointed out, cognizant of how white Dennis’s knuckles had gone. “You know, so we could pick separately. Or do you just really wanna think about two dudes kissing?”

A few people chuckled, and for a moment, Dennis felt proud. It was short-lived, however, when Tim replied almost immediately, “Uhh, nobody said you had to kiss, bro. But it’s good to know that’s exactly what you were thinking about.”

Mac’s cheeks flushed, and he recoiled. Dennis heaved a great sigh, shifting the tension from his shaking fists to the space in his back between his shoulders. He replaced his grimace with an easy smile. “Fine, it’s whatever,” he said casually. “It’s totally a waste of a turn, though.”

“We’ll see,” Tim responded, and Dennis nearly hurled his beanbag chair across the room.

Then they were being herded by the crowd like sheep to the bathroom they’d prepared for the occasion, complete with romantic fragrance and minimal lighting provided only by a lavender-scented candle belonging to Tim’s mom. People continued to snicker, and Mac and Dennis continued to refuse eye contact, until it was just the two of them side-by-side in the darkness, watching as Tim closed the door and snickered, “Have fun!” From the other side, they could hear the click of the alarm clock Tim set for exactly seven minutes begin.

With the door shut, the candlelight reflected off both their faces as they slowly turned to each other and adopted positions at opposite ends of the room. Dennis’s stomach churned.

“This is weird, bro,” Mac said, painfully honest when Dennis did not require his honesty; he forced himself to bite back a nasty retort.

“Don’t fucking make it weird, then,” he snarled, “you’re the only one making it weird.”

“No, I’m pretty sure everyone is making it weird.”

“Well, don’t encourage them!” he snapped, his voice rising above the whisper he’d been trying to use to keep the conversation only between them. Mac spoke normally, of course, and it only further irritated Dennis.

Mac’s big dark eyes followed him, and Dennis could feel the intensity of his gaze even in the darkness. He slid down the length of the wall into a sitting position and stretched his fingers, forcing a deep breath down into his lungs. Mac followed suit. “Oh!” Mac suddenly exclaimed, reaching into his pocket and digging around while Dennis tried not to scream. “Hang on, I think I have something that’ll make this, like, ten times more better.”

The ticking noise began to grate on Dennis’s ears, and he balled his hands into fists yet again. Mac was grinning at him now, and the rush of blood through Dennis’s head forced him to look at the object his counterpart now held between them – a joint, thick, sleek, and nicely rolled the way Mac knew Dennis liked them to be. “Ehhh?” Mac smirked, wagging the joint between them.

“Oh, fuck, give me that,” Dennis nearly growled, reaching for it ferally, as if he needed it like the cure for a venomous snake bite. Mac relinquished his grasp on it, and Dennis brought the butt to his lips in one swift movement.

“Light?” he asked impatiently, and Mac returned to digging in his pockets until he produced a purple BIC lighter that had definitely seen better days. He leaned close to Dennis, flicking at the lighter until the flame ignited and cast a soft orange light across both of their faces. Mac cupped the flame with his palm, letting Dennis take a long, intimate drag while they stood practically nose to nose. Mac tried not to stare at the way Dennis’s lips curved around the end of the joint, elected instead to drink in the soft fluttering of his lashes against his bony cheeks. Abruptly, Dennis’s eyes snapped up as Mac leaned closer, and the shock of electricity that came with their eye contact caused Mac’s mouth to run dry. Dennis took the joint from his lips, erupting into a hearty coughing fit that stymied the previous moment of tension. “Fuck,” he choked out, “shit, dude, that was a big hit.”

“Sorry,” Mac said half-heartedly, his eyes resting still on the redness of Dennis’s cheeks. “I mean, it wouldn’t be if you weren’t such a pussy…”

“Shut up!” Dennis passed the joint to Mac with ire in his voice, and Mac managed to take several drags in quick enough succession to elicit his own miniature coughing fit. Dennis smirked at him, and Mac’s face broke so easily into a compatible grin that he did it without even meaning to.

“How many minutes do you think are left?” Mac asked.

Dennis grimaced as if, for a moment, he’d forgotten they weren’t alone. “Too many,” he sneered. “Give that back.”

They passed it back and forth in silence for what seemed like years. Dennis tried to ignore the fact that they were, despite their best protestations, sharing saliva. Mac looked to be deliberating something in his mind, and Dennis shuddered to think what it could be. After a moment lasting ten thousand years, Mac opened his mouth to speak. “Hey, Den, I wanted to talk to you about something –”

All at once, the alarm clock began to blare from outside, and Dennis’s hands jumped so violently from the noise that he lost his grip on the joint, letting it tumble down the front of his body until the lit end landed on the front of his pants, burning through the denim and causing Dennis to cry out.

“Oh, shit, dude –”

“Fuck!” Dennis shouted, jumping to his feet. “Oh my God, dude, I burned my dick –”

“You totally burned your dick,” Mac observed, dropping to his knees to root around on the ground for the missing joint.

“Shit, fuck, goddamnit, get it off –”

“Hang on, there’s burning ash still there, let me get it –”

Mac began frantically to brush the smoldering ash from Dennis’s crotch, but as his hands gripped the waistband of Dennis’s jeans to find footing in the dark, the bathroom door swung open and treated Tim Murphy and a gaggle of their other classmates to the sight of Mac knelt in front of Dennis, face inches from his crotch, with Mac latched onto his belt loops and brushing the front of his jeans in a decidedly unscrupulous way. Dennis and Mac froze in their respective positions, and Tim’s eyes grew wide as the moon.

“Oh my God, I fucking knew it!” came a voice, and Dennis’s eyes scanned the crowd immediately so he could put a face with the voice of the person he decided he was going to kill. The shrill voice was all too familiar as he connected the source of it to none other than Sweet Dee. “They’re gay, they’re totally gay!” She cackled, loud and obnoxious, as others joined.

“NO!” Dennis cried. “No, no, no, this isn’t what it looks like –”

“Yeah, sure, Dennis!” Dee screeched back, as the cacophony of laughter and whispering grew behind her. “See, Tim, I totally told you they’d do some gay shit if you put them alone together –”

“I’m gonna kill you!” Dennis shouted, lurching forward and wrapping his hands around his sister’s throat. The laughter turned to screaming as their classmates scattered, and Dennis tackled Dee to the ground and planted himself firmly above her, squeezing. Mac attempted to pull him back, and Charlie appeared to aid in the fiasco, but the four of them soon became such a hectic tangle of limbs and shouting and curse words that the neighbors who called the police would later note in their statement they feared a murder was taking place.

It was the first and last time any of them saw the inside of Tim Murphy’s house.

#iasip #macdennis #writing prompts #fanfiction #macdennis fanfic #oof i don't know about this one #i did my best!!!#hopefully it's not too all over the place kjbgsukgbsif #i hope u like it #Anonymous

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etlunainmorte · 5 years ago

Text

💙 I See My Future Before Me 💙

***

“Hello?”

“Kyrie, it’s me.”

“Nero! Oh, thank God, you’re alright!”

“How are things there?”

“I’ve heard Fortuna’s in complete ruins now because of the Dreadnought and its horde. But, we’re safe here. You don’t have to worry about us.”

“Glad to hear that.”

“Yes.”

…

“Nero?”

“Hmm?”

“Is,… something bothering you?”

“Ah,… nothing.”

“Hmm,…”

“Haha. It’s nothing. Really.”

“Nero, I can tell something’s wrong, even if we’re thousands of miles apart. I love you, and you know you can always tell me anything. I’m here for you.”

…

“Kyrie,…”

“I’m listening.”

“What will you do if,…”

“Hmm?”

“Well, let’s say you confessed your,… ah,… feelings for me.”

“Yes. And?”

“And,… ah,… I rejected you. Like, badly. Like, not even friend zone. What will you do?”

“Hmm, to tell you the truth, I can’t imagine you doing that to me. But, if that happens, well,…”

“Well?”

“Of course, I would definitely get hurt. A lot. Nothing hurts more than a special someone, a loved one, pushing you away from their life. My heart would be shattered to pieces, and I would feel like my existence won’t matter anymore.”

“Whoa! The existence part is too much!”

“Ah, you don’t understand, Nero. Girls’ feelings are delicate. They may act tough but, deep inside, their heart is dying. No matter how much they struggle against the sadness, eventually it will come back and haunt them. It’s like a sickness, being heartbroken. And it’s very hard to heal.”

“Oh. How do they, uh, cope? They can’t stay like that forever, right?”

“Hmm, let’s see. With company. With friends who would never leave them. Who would stay for them, eat ice cream with them, and watch romantic movies with them. With honest people who would tell them that the right man would come for them in the right time and everything would be just fine.”

“The right man? So, they’re just gonna make her forget that she loved - ”

“ - a man who hurt and rejected her? Well, of course! He hurt her, so he doesn’t deserve her.”

“Listen, Kyrie: what if he’s the one? The one who rejected her?”

“…

… if he’s the one, then he shouldn’t have rejected her in the first place. It’s just,… wrong,… and,… stupid.”

“I see.”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re courting someone while I’m on the other side of the globe?”

“WHAT?! NO! I would never do that to you!”

“Hahaha! Of course, Nero. I know you would never do that to me. So, who’s the sad girl?”

“…”

“Nero? Tell me.”

“It’s (Y/N). Do you know her?”

“Yes. Nico’s always telling me about her. She sounds like a great person. Why? Who rejected her?”

“Ah, it’s,…”

“Who?”

“I - it’s a long story. You know what? Prepare the ice cream and the movies. We’ll end this battle quick, because she needs your company. (Y/N) needs you. Us.”

“Okay, Nero.”

“Wait for us, Kyrie.”

“I will wait for you, for as long as I live.”

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

Nero hung up the phone, sighing as he did so. Ever since hearing about your dire situation ( meaning, everything ) from Nico, herself, he couldn’t help but be sad and angry.

Sad for you, and angry at V.

What man could ever stomach doing that to a girl who clearly loved him?! Enough to follow him at death’s door?!

The young Devil Hunter shook his head in disbelief. He could still remember the Artisan’s words to him a few minutes prior.

“Go after (Y/N)! She’s reckless right now, and she needs someone who could stop her from killing herself!”

“Seriously, V.” Nero said to himself as he scratched his head in confusion, unable to envision himself rejecting his beloved Kyrie. “You are one stupid son of a bitch for doing that to (Y/N),…”

“Winter, spring, summer or fall,

You know all you have to do is call.

And I’ll be there, yeah! You’ve got a frieeennnddd!”

“You sound terrible.”

“Are ya kiddin’?! I sound angelic!”

“Right,…”

“(Y/N) and,… Griffon?” Nero uttered upon hearing the conversation not far from where he was. He left the last good phone booth of the city and went to his vehicle,…

“Now, you do it.” Griffon challenged you as you two made your way towards the Dreadnought.

You cleared your throat and opened your mouth, belting the lines that the bird just sang.

“Winter, spring, summer or fall,

You know all you have to do is call.

And I’ll be there, yeah! You’ve got a frieeennnddd!”

“UGH! AND YA CALL THAT SINGING?! YE SOUND LIKE A CAT IN HEAT FALLING FROM THE TOP OF THE EIFFEL TOWER!”

“I TOLD YOU! I’M TONE DEAF!”

“Yeah, ya better stick to dancin’, sweet pea. Haha! Haha! Ah, haha! Well, ah,… no offense. You really sound terrible.”

“I know but, you don’t have to rub it in,…”

“(Y/N)!” The two of you suddenly heard a voice behind you.

“Is that?” Griffon questioned as you two looked behind you,…

… to see Nero going full speed towards you in a sleek and sick - looking motorcycle that seemed to glow both blue and purple. He stopped just a few steps from you and proudly revved his new vehicle.

“Hey, (Y/N)! Need a ride?” The young Devil Hunter asked you with his signature, charmingly boyish smile.

“I thought Eleison’s destroyed?” You asked as you glanced at the amazing vehicle in awe.

“Yeah. I saw it with ma own eyes.” Griffon added.

Nero chuckled. “She is. But, you see, a few hours ago, I defeated this knight - Demon thing who wields electricity. When I fought it, its broken parts kinda merged with some vehicle gears. Long story short, I now have Kyrie Eleison!”

“And it has a name now! Right,…” the demonic bird sarcastically replied.

“Anyway, I’m going straight to that ugly ship to make it sink! Wanna tag along?”

“I don’t know, Nero!” You answered. “I mean, can it even fly?”

Seeing that you’re prepared and ready for a wild ride, Nero revved Kyrie Eleison and sped fast. He laughed so hard upon hearing your and Griffon’s screams and made the vehicle even faster.

“NERO! CAN WE SLOW DOWN?!” You hysterically begged the boy.

“No! We’re gonna fly, remember?!”

“AAAHHH!”

Meanwhile, Trish and Lady were still fighting against the Demon horde below when they heard your screams.

“What’s that?” Lady asked as she fired her Kalina Ann, making one Demon’s face blast into bloody pieces.

“It sounds like,…” Trish said as she slowly looked up.

And there, right above that hill, the two women saw you, Nero, and Griffon, riding a weird - looking motorcycle and actually flying towards the entrance to the Dreadnought.

“How in the world - ?!” Trish exclaimed in utter awe of the reckless feat.

“They will never make it!” Lady yelled as she prepared for the worst.

“WE’LL NEVER MAKE IT!” You screamed, terrified for what will happen next.

“WE’LL CRASH!” Griffon, who seemed to have forgotten that he could easily fly away from all of this, hysterically added, still clinging unto your hoodie for dear life.

“NOT TODAY!” Nero answered, growling like hell as he revved the motorcycle, willing for it to land safely inside the demonic ship.

“GGGYYYAAARRRGGGHHH!”

“SSSQQQUUUAAAWWWKKK!”

“I WON’T LET YOU DDDIIIEEE!” Nero howled as the motorcycle came into contact with the light barrier that guarded the entrance.

You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms tightly around Nero, not wanting to see yourself crash,…

But, everything seemed normal as you finally landed. You opened your eyes, seeing your uninjured body, and glanced at Nero.

“Is this it? Are we safe now?” You asked, unable to believe that you just flew a motorcycle towards the monstrous - looking ship

“Seems like it.” Nero answered you with a bashful smile.

“Look at this!” Griffon exclaimed in both awe and fear as he looked all over the place.

From the outside, Shinano Musashi looked like a huge hunk of demonic - looking metal with strange horns and protrusions. An impossibly huge mechanism that could float on the sky.

It was as if you entered a floating hell.

“What a putrid smell!” The demonic bird complained as he finally let go of your hoodie.

“I actually agree with you, little chicken.” Nero answered as he merely dodged a sticky yellow substance that dripped from the pulsating ceiling.

“WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?! YOU UNGRATEFUL, SON OF A - !”

“It’s calling me.”

Both Nero and Griffon looked at you as you got off of Kyrie Eleison and started walking deeper towards the cavern of the Dreadnought.

“Who is calling you?” The bird questioned as he flew towards you.

“I,… don’t know,…” You answered. You, then, turned and glanced back at your two companions, your eyes looking heavy and empty as if in a trance. “It’s calling my name. Can’t you hear it?”

“No!” The young Devil Hunter and the demonic familiar simultaneously answered.

“There it is. I’m,… coming,…” You said monotonously as you looked away from them and continued walking.

“(Y/N), don’t go there alone!” The boy called after you, then clicked his tongue in annoyance. He dismounted and went after you together with the bird.

A few hours of endless walking and various turns deep inside the Dreadnought led you to a slightly different room with less wet flesh and pulsating veins.

As soon as Nero saw this orb, he protectively pulled you away as he took out his Blue Rose and pointed at it.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, (Y/N) but, I don’t trust this fairy dust.” The boy said as he faced the suspicious - looking orb.

“I don’t think it wants a conversation with you right now, kid.” Griffon told him as he perched at your right arm.

“What happened?!” Griffon squawked as he looked around for potential danger.

“I don’t know but, I have a bad feeling about this,…” the boy answered as he drew The Red Queen in preparation for a battle.

A few moments later, all three of you heard a noise coming from the far end of the room. Your heart suddenly became heavier as a black mass went towards you.

Nero revved his Red Queen, ready to attack the enemy, when, suddenly,…

“Kyrie?” Nero uttered, bewildered to find the woman he loved standing in front of him. “Sweetheart, what are you doing here?”

Your eyes widened as you noticed the sinister smile on Kyrie’s face.

Something was off!

“Nero! Wait - !”

When he was about to reach out to his lover, a strange kind of light in the form of multiple dark whips emanated from her, throwing the boy towards the other end of the room.

“Griffon, please!” You asked the familiar as you took out your rapier and shield.

“No need to tell me!” The bird answered as it gathered its power for an attack -

“Don’t you dare hurt her!” Nero screamed as he finally stood up.

“Can’t ya see, kid?! This chick’s not yer fling! She - SSSQQQUUUAAAWWWKKK!”

“GRIFFON!” You yelled as one of the whips of dark light coming from the creature impersonating Kyrie grabbed one of the demonic avian’s talons and practically threw him away with much force. The bird landed on the ground beside Nero, which left you as the last fighter standing.

“WHAT IN THE SCHTICK?!” Griffon swore, his golden eyes wide with both humor and fear.

“V?!” Nero muttered in confusion. “(Y/N), look out!”

Before you could even attack, the man strode towards you, raised his hand with the metal cane, and brought it swiftly down on your face, wounding you and making you stumble to the ground.

Your hand automatically went up your cheek and felt something moist from it. You looked at your fingers - blood.

“GET AWAY FROM HER, YOU CHEAP V RIP - OFF FROM HELL!” Griffon shrieked as he flew towards the creature. He released a strong electric attack with the full intention of killing the enemy.

However, the “cheap V rip - off” simply dodged it, flawlessly jumping in mid - air and hitting Griffon with his cane with unbelievable strength. The bird landed on the ground with an ugly thud.

“Nobody told me he’s not sissy like his real counterpart!” Griffon quipped as he tried to get up from the ground. But then, the enemy stepped on him and drove his cane deep into his flesh, instantly making him enter his stalemate state.

“Griffon!” You quickly stood up and ran towards the familiar but the enemy whacked you with his cane once more, this time, straight on your back.

“FUCK YOU!” Nero swore as he charged towards the fake V. The enemy noticed this and changed back to Kyrie. The boy did a mistake of stopping in his tracks, making the enemy attack him once more with its dark whips. He came flying towards the other end of the room, feeling fresh wounds and multiple injuries all over his body.

“TAKE THIS!” You screamed at the top of your lungs as you whacked your shield on Kyrie’s back, making it stumble. Then, you hastily went to Nero’s side, helping him on his feet.

“We can’t attack it like this!” Nero thundered as he stood up, giving the enemy an angry look for taking the form of a person as pure and as angelic as Kyrie.

You looked at him, knowing exactly what the enemy’s weakness was. “Nero, listen to me. That is not Kyrie - ”

“I know! You don’t have to tell me!”

“But, just now, you hesitated to attack her!”

Nero punched the ground in frustration. You grabbed his arm and made him look up at you.

“We’ll attack it together! Come on, Nero! We have to do this!”

Nero, on the other hand, had enough and slashed the enemy’s torso the moment it turned back to V. It drew back in shock, clutching its wounded stomach, then turned to you two with murder and malice in its now red eyes. It dropped its cane on the ground and changed back to Kyrie, extending one of its whips and pinned Nero to the wall, fatally wounding him.

Just when you were about to attack it, it rapidly went back to V, waved its arms, and summoned multiple blades of blue light that rapidly went down on you like bullets.

That’s when you saw it.

… turning into real flesh,…

His eyes widened at the sight. He forcefully grabbed the dark whip that imprisoned him using his newly formed right arm and almost melted it with the sheer light and warmth it radiated.

“Your tricks are getting too old, you bitch.” Nero quipped as he motioned for the enemy to come closer. “I’ll make you pay for this!”

Grabbing his warm right arm, you spoke, “This is a miracle!”

“I know.” Nero answered as he supported you.

You turned towards the dark, beaten, writhing mass on the ground that was the remnants of Kyrie and limped your way to it with Nero still on your heel.

“Who called me here?” You asked it, foolishly believing that it could somehow shed light to the mystery of the Dreadnought and the voice that was calling you.

You felt a pang of guilt as you looked at it and realized that it was only making you feel that way to defeat you.

With one last sigh of apathy towards the enemy, you took Nero’s Red Queen from him, held it above your head, and plunged it to V’s heart, making it writhe and wriggle even more with pain. Feeling your tears pour out of your tired eyes for this unspeakable creature for exposing your true emotions, you plunged the hot sword even deeper, skewering its heart and reducing the enemy down to its true form - a short and wrinkled creature, about four feet in height, with long twisted claws, sharp red eyes, green skin, and skinny legs. You took the sword out of its body and slashed its head, decapitating it and finally putting an end to it once and for all. The remains of the despicable creature caught on fire and slowly turned into ashes.

You gave the sword back to Nero as you collapsed on the ground.

“So, that’s how Mina felt when she decapitated Dracula.” You sighed as you settled on the ground to make yourself comfortable. “Oh, that’s wrong. That’s no Dracula,…”

“Why Kyrie? Why not somebody else?” The youth asked as he watched the creature’s ashes get flown by the wind.

You sighed, feeling the massive weight on your heart and shoulders. “It only reflects how much you love a person. The enemy used it against you because it knew it would be your biggest weakness.”

Nero looked at you in dismay. “So, you still love him,… V?”

You blinked twice, not sure if your heart could take any more pain. You, then, let out a long sigh of depression. “After all this time. Yes.” You answered, wincing in pain as you touched one bloody wound on your arm.

“Hey, you should fall back now, you can’t fight like this!” The boy pleaded as you let him support you.

However, the moment your skin made contact with his new arm once again, a new set of visions flashed through your mind about him. It was rapid, and yet,…

You only shook your head in disagreement. “Don’t mind me. I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll be fine?! What are you - ?”

Nero’s sentence was cut off as he saw, with his own two eyes, how the wounds on your body miraculously healed. He watched the phenomenon in total shock, and when your last wound closed, he could only laugh in disbelief.

“Don’t tell me you’re immortal?!” Nero questioned you.

“And what does that make you?” You asked him as you gave a knowing look on his new right arm.

“Come on, (Y/N). I’m serious here! How did you - ?”

“You never asked how Griffon came to be my familiar.” You cut him off. “And you never asked why my eyes are red. I know Nico told you everything. But, the question is,…” You said, giving him a questioning look as you raised an eyebrow. “… how much do you know?”

The youth could only gulp down in nervousness, his sweat running cold in the process. “Everything.”

“Oh.”

“FUCK YEAH! What? Hey, what did I miss?” Griffon, who was just fully healed and revived, asked as he flew down towards the two of you.

“Nero pulled a rabbit out of his sleeve.” You answered without so much as a fuss.

“Really? Oh, wait. You’re being sarcastic - !”

“Which brings me to my next agenda.” You said as you held up a hand to silence Griffon. “Nero,…”

“What is it, (Y/N)?”

You looked into the youth’s sincere eyes, deciding whether to tell him what you just saw or not, then shook your head.

“Forget I said anything.” You quietly answered as you stood up.

“I know you saw something about me. Tell me!”

You narrowed your eyes at the boy.

Well,…

He had the right to know!

“Listen: do you know Luke Skywalker? The Jedi?” You asked him as you removed your shredded parka, letting Nero take a glimpse of the contract markings on your right arm.

“Luke,… Skywalker? I’m not sure I could follow,…”

“Yeah, the woman likes movies, ya know?” Griffon added as he perched on your arm.

“So, what does this Luke have to do with me?” Nero inquired as he followed you out of the dark and depressing room.

“Hmm, I don’t know. Could you say, that’s impossible!”

“That’s impossible! There, I said it.”

“You’ll say that again later.”

“What do you mean by that? Hey, (Y/N)!”

You turned to glance at the boy. Taking pity on him, you spoke, “You know, you are very fortunate.”

“Uh, thank you, I guess?” Nero replied, scratching his temple in confusion.

“Thank you for everything, Nero.”

“Nah, it’s nothing.”

“Tell Kyrie I said hi.”

“Sure thing.”

“This will be the last time. You’ll never see me again.”

“Okay. WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!”

But, you were already gone before he could even ask you that last bit that Nico never told him,…

***

XXII

***

In silence and total darkness, V waited for you to arrive. And during those tense moments, he could only think of Fleminger’s words to him.

“I know it is power you seek, my Lord. She has that power you’re searching for - the power to make yourself invulnerable. The power - to put you back to your former self. Deep within the Dreadnought lies her true heart. But, piercing it would do you no good. Pierce,…

… her body first, then make her power mine. Only then can I defeat the Dreadnought.” V uttered as Shadow morphed into an indistinguishable form before him. “Only then,… can I truly become,…

… whole. Once more.”

At those final words, something huge behind him pulsated, splashing the suffocating room with its sickly crimson glow and casting unearthly shadows before the poet.

V looked down on his hands. His crumbling flesh. His time,… was coming to an end.

And so, he shall soon receive the power,…

“Come to me, my love.” He called for the third time, knowing that you would come to him right away without hesitation,…

***

💙💙💙

***

#devil may cry 5 #nero sparda #i see my future before me #v x reader #v x you #chapter 22 #he who fights #revised

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ace-alex-art · 5 years ago

Text

Thomas is a prick

I'm terrible with titles. Anyway this took way too long because Parker and I get distracted easily. It's a rollercoaster.

Also theres some really strong language from Thomas in the first half that is derogatory towards women. Please be careful when reading.

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Michael keeps his body small as he lays curled on the floor. His shattered rib cage is burning, and every breath like inhaling shards of glass. His eyes are squeezed shut as he tries to wait out the pain. “P-please… Father…”

A harsh kick to his abdomen leaves the boy gasping. “Stand up.” He demands with another swift kick to Michael’s stomach. “This is all your fault! You pathetic little bitch! So stand up and fight!” The booming voice shakes the room.

Michael knows he can’t fight back. He’s learned the hard way that fighting back and defending himself always leads to more pain, but his head is spinning. His Father’s voice is too loud, and he just wants it all to stop. So slowly he gets back on his unsteady feet.

A strong punch to Michael’s face sends him sprawling onto the floor again, sufficiently erasing all the work it took for him to stand in the first place. Thomas stomps his foot onto Michael’s thigh and tears a hoarse cry from the boy. “Are you fucking deaf? I said stand back up!”

The boy whimpers and wipes his bleeding nose with his arm before forcing himself up again. He was always forced to not defend himself. Always hurt more when he did so, but if his Father truly wants him to fight back then why not? He's going to be beat anyway, so he might as well try to defend himself.

An arm reaches for his collar, and he ducks before maneuvering behind him. That wasn't what Thomas wanted apparently as he lunges at the broken boy and slams him into the wall. “You worthless piece of shit! I said fight back!” He slams Michael back into the wall again before punching the boy in the stomach sufficiently doubling the kid over. “Go on, hit me back!” The overwhelming stench of whiskey on his breath.

Michael doesn't know what else to do, so he plays the roll his Father wants. Hoping it will end soon if he plays along, Michael weakly punches Thomas's chest.

“Good girl.” He drunkenly praises before grabbing his arm and flinging him into the other wall.

I'm not a girl! Michael's thoughts scream. He knows he's going to lose this rigged fight, but he doesn't care at the moment. Michael moves to rush one way but quickly switches to the other side, and he plows into Thomas's side, knocking him into the wall.

That was not the right answer as his large hand clamps around Michael's throat and pins him to the wall. Holding Michael up by his throat, the drunkard leans close to his face. “I could fucking kill you right now, you know that?” He growls. The boy held off the ground; his toes barely dragging against the floor. Thomas pulls Michael forward before slamming him back into the wall again with intense force. “You ungrateful little bitch! You deserve this, girly. Go on, princess. Say it!” His grip on Michael's throat just loose enough for the boy to get a few words out.

“I...I de...serve it…” Michael weakly chokes out. Spots already beginning to dance in his blurry vision. “I de...serve it…”

“Fucking whore. We do so much for you and this is how you repay us?” He spits, clearly too inebriated to remember that he told Michael to fight back.

“...n-no… Sir… I-" The hand around Michael's throat squeezes hard as it cuts off his oxygen, making him slightly kick his legs as panicked eyes pleaded with his Father.

“I'm going to break your jaw if you keep fucking talking! Do you understand?” A minute nod as Michael fights to stay awake when his vision is being surrounded by darkness. “Get your shit and get the fuck out of my sight!” He booms as he throws Michael onto the ground. “Anyone fucking says anything, tell them your clumsy ass fell, do you understand me!”

Hes wheezing and trembling as he tries to regain control of his limbs. Grabbing his tattered backpack and racing out of the house before his Father could change his mind. His entire body screamed in protest, but he wanted to get as far away as he could. Adrenaline coursing through the boy allowed him to run until he got to the Sheriff's Secret Police Auction House before finally needing to stop. He slumped against the building when he finally began to feel all the pain in his body. Freezing when he looked back at where he had ran from and seeing bloody footprints.

Michael looked down to see a small puddle around his left foot. Cautiously using the wall for support, he lifted his leg to inspect his foot. The streetlight above him showed off the semi deep cuts on the bottom of his foot, and something shone in the light. Gingerly, Michael touched it. Piece of broken glass. He didn't have time to grab shoes when given the chance to flee, and he had ran through broken glass without realizing. The boy's hand shakes, but he manages to pull out the shard, cutting his foot more as it was removed.

Everything hurt, but he couldn't just stop here. He has to get farther away. His foggy mind told him to get to the dog park. Nobody goes to the dog park, so he would be able to rest outside the fence. It feels like another hour had passed in the time it took the boy to limp from the auction house to the dog park. As soon as he felt hidden enough, Michael slumped to the ground crying.

At some point the boy ran out of energy to keep crying. His entire body was aflame, and his throat hurt too much to continue to sob. His Father was always careful not to injure him where others could easily see, but he knew a black eye was forming already. There would be a prominent hand print around his throat by sunrise. How would he get anyone to believe he fell and got that?

Michael digs through his mainly empty bag when finds his phone. Carlos gave it to him since his old one was stolen. He said it was a gift. A “welcome to the family” gift. Michael smiles slightly. That was the day they made snow and decided they would prank Cecil and nearly give him a heart attack.

He only had a few numbers: the station, the lab, Mika's cell, Ainsel's phone, Cecil's, and Carlos's. He couldn't call Cecil. He would freak out. Mika would start a fight with his Father, and Ainsel would likely cry at the state he is in. Michael squeezes his eyes shut as he swallows hard. Carlos is going to be so mad for waking him up, but he didn't know what else to do.

Ring. Ring.

“P-please… please answer…”

Ring. Ring.

“I know you’ll be mad… it’s too early… but please pick up…”

Ring. Rin-

Carlos jerks upright as his phone goes off. Who would be calling at this time of night? Rubbing his face with a groan, he feels around the nightstand for his glasses. He gets up carefully as to not wake Cecil, who, as soon as Carlos got up, turned over and spread across the mattress.

Crossing the room, Carlos picks his phone up off the dresser, not bothering to check caller ID.

“Mm...Hello?” He asks with a yawn.

“Papa?” Michael shakily whispers. He didn’t know what else to do. He didn’t have anywhere else to go. Yeah, they gave him keys to their home, but what if they didn’t really want him there right now? Who wants a kid showing up at their door at 2am?

Carlos was suddenly wide awake as his blood ran cold. “Michael?” He asks, stepping out into the hall, shutting the door behind him. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Carlos wasn’t sure what worried him more; the fact that Michael was calling at two in the morning or the sound of the child’s voice. “Do I need to come get you?”

I woke him up. He’s gonna be mad at me. “m-m sorry… didn’t… I-I didn’t wanna wake you…” His voice hoarse from the lack of oxygen he endured and laced with fear. “P-please? I-I dunno if I can walk anymore… m at the dog park…”

Carlos takes a breath. “Don’t apologize. Hey, deep breaths. You’re going to hyperventilate. I’m on my way and I’ll be there in fifteen minutes okay?” He makes his way to the living room to look for his shoes. “What happened?”

Michael closes his eyes and tries to listen to Carlos, focusing on breathing around all the pain he feels. “I…I upset Father… and I fell...” It’s not a complete lie. He did fall, multiple times, actually, but he knew the scientist wouldn’t completely believe that answer. It was what his Father told him to say.

Maybe he could lie or hold back details over the phone, but Carlos would know otherwise when he sees the boy. A black eye from falling is somewhat believable, but the handprint around his throat? The huge bruise that will be prominent on his thigh? The fresh bruises on his stomach and already bashed in ribs? There’s no way the scientist would believe that. He isn’t an idiot after all. But for now he has fifteen minutes to come up with a better cover story, or at least a way to explain what happened without worrying him.

Carlos could feel his heart ache. “When did this happen? Were you followed?” He asks, pulling his shoes on and stopping at the table next to the door to grab his keys. He steps out and locks the door before starting down the walk. “Thank you for calling me Michael.” He stops and waves at the Sheriff's Secret Policeman hiding in the bush under the living room window. “How bad are you hurt?” He makes one last stop at the truck and takes out the first aid kit.

Michael keeps his eyes closed as he listens to the sounds of Night Vale in the early morning. “Hour ago? No… I dunno… maybe an hour and a half since I left? So maybe less than two hours ago?” He tries to think. He doesn’t have a watch that works. The one he has from before they moved had a dead battery. “I don’t think so… I didn’t know I was leaving footprints until I got to the auction house. I didn’t feel the glass in my foot… but he was really drunk and wanted me gone, so I don’t think he followed me…” Michael coughs a little before whimpering at the pain. “ll survive… not much worse than usual.” he admits. “But it was a bad fall… I, um, I got caught on the door knob, so I, uh, I might have a black eye… y'know m clumsy with my ankle and stuff…” he knew the lie was horrible, but he had to be careful with what he said in public in case someone was listening. He didn’t want to get in trouble after all.

Carlos tucks the plastic box under his arm and starts down the sidewalk. "Okay. Keep talking so I know you haven't passed out." With every word from Michael's mouth, Carlos's stomach twisted in more knots. Maybe he should take Michael's mind off the pain. But how?

He tries to stretch his back slightly and ends up whimpering. “Wouldn't be the first time… nobody really comes out to the dog park in the early morning…” Michael gingerly brings his hand to touch where the bruises on his neck are already beginning to form. There's no way he can hide that. “m sorry for waking you up…” his voice soft and remorseful.

"Its okay. I rather you call me than stay out all night. You take first priority always."

Michael feels himself being watched and tenses. However when realizing it's just a hooded figure, he relaxes. Hes spent numerous nights out here, and they haven't hurt him yet. “It's not all night… and I shouldn't…” he mumbles. “m sorry”

"Hey. You are always more important. Always. You can call me anytime." Carlos reminds him, rounding the corner. "No matter what."

Michael carefully shakes his head despite knowing Carlos cant see him. He doesn't have the energy to disagree with the scientist. “I-I didn't mean to fall… I tried… m sorry…”

"I know." Carlos says softly. "I know you did." He looks down the way a little and sees the park. "I'm almost there."

Eyes closed as he replays what happened. He didn't know what his Father wanted from him, but clearly he gave the wrong answers. Wind blows through him as he sits curled into himself on the ground. “m sorry…”

"It was not your fault Michael. I promise you that." He's closer to the park now and begins looking for Michael. "I'm here now."

He shakes his head and sniffles. “It's always my fault.”

Michael hears Carlos before he sees his hero. Whimpering as he forces himself to stand and stumble in the direction of the noise, the world beneath him swaying.

Carlos walks a little further before stopping and looking around. "I see you. I'm coming."

He hangs up the call and breaks into a sprint towards Michael's limping form. He comes to a halt, dropping the plastic box and gently hugging Michael close. "I'm so sorry.."

His abused body gives out causing him to slump into Carlos and cry out in pain. Weakly hugging the scientist and using him to stay standing. “m-m sorry…” he brokenly hiccups. “m s-sorry…” Michael buries his face into Carlos's chest to hide his forming black eye and bruising throat.

"How about we get you home so I can get you cleaned up?" Carlos says softly. He takes a slight step back but isn't really able to see in the dim light. At home he'd have light.

“P-please…” A choked noise come from the boy. “It hurts…” Michael rests completely against Carlos as he cant find the energy to continue standing.

"I'm going to pick up now okay?" Carlos says softly. "Is that okay?"

Michael whimpers at all the pain, but he nods. He trusts Carlos to take care of him. “m sorry…”

"I got you." Carlos murmurs. "I got you." Carlos leans down and carefully picks Michael up. "Let's go home."

Heartbreaking noises come from the boy as he gets picked up. “Everything hurts…” He whines while hiding his bruising neck from Carlos. Tense and scared but slowly relaxing knowing he's safe with the scientist.

"I know. I'm sorry." Carlos says softly as he starts the walk back home. "I'll get you patched up and some clean clothes and then something warm to eat. Okay?"

Michael nods a little. He has no idea how to hide how bad the damage is once Carlos gets home. The black eye? Handprint bruising around his throat? Those aren't as easy as his stomach and ribs. So Michael remains quiet for the walk home. How would he explain it was his fault this time? Really and truly. He fought back, and he was punished.

Carlos is quiet most of the walk home. He doesn't know what to say. What even was there to say? The walk back home seemed longer than the walk to the park but that could just be Carlos' nerves. "Almost home."

“Thank you...m sorry…” Michael softly whispers as he lays his head against Carlos. The scientist is going to see his bruises anyway, so what's the point in being even more uncomfortable?

Carlos doesn't answer at first. Then he says "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

“Why?” Michael quietly asks. “You haven't done anything wrong… thank you for letting me stay over… and coming to get me…”

Carlos stops walking for a moment and lays his cheek on top of Michael's head. "Because I can't help you."

“Oh…” He quietly says. “But you do help… you're helping now… and you help other times…” Michael explains softly. “You've saved me with the car and CPR and nightmares… you are good, and you help me. Thank you…”

"I only wish I could do more…." Carlos whispers, rounding the corner onto the driveway. "Can you stand for just a minute?"

Michael chews on his bottom lip and nods minutely. “Yessir…” he hoarsely whispers.

"I just have to unlock the door alright?" Carlos digs in his pocket for his house key. He unlocks it as softly as he could, keeping in mind that Cecil was still asleep. "Alright. C'mere. Let's get you cleaned up okay?"

As soon as Carlos let's him, Michael stumbles into the scientist. Clinging to his hero from fear and worry of falling again. “m sorry… m-m sorry…” he whimpers. He's gonna see my throat. He's gonna be sick. I'm gonna make him sick. He's gonna regret me.

Wrapping one arm around Michael, Carlos pushed into the dark living room. He does a quick once over of the room due to habit and was startled to find the kitchen light on. It hadn’t been on when he left. Slowly and carefully, Carlos moved Michael toward the light, poking his head in and jolting in surprise to find Cecil at the table with a mug of coffee between his hands. Cecil had obviously not been awake long at all; as his hair stuck up at odd angles and his eyes were kind of dull. He looked up as Carlos helped Michael sit down.

If Cecil had been standing, the mug between his hands would have shattered. He looks over the fresh bruises and the hand print on Michael’s throat. He was instantly on his feet. “What the hell happened?”

Michael immediately tenses at Cecil's reaction. How the hell does he explain this one? His bullies don't attack at 2am. Hell, he isn't even allowed out of the house most days until at least 8am. But the abused boy is scared and doesn't know what else to do except what he's been forced by his Father to do for years. He says what he's told to say.

“I-I fell… m s-sorry…” he answers, looking at the floor and wishing he was strong enough to tell the truth. It wasn't a lie. He did fall, but it was far from the whole truth.

Carlos crouches down to inspect the damage now that he had enough light. His stomach twisted as he looks over the exposed part of Michael's arms before his eyes traveled up to Michael's face. The black eye was already darkening. He places two fingers on Michael's chin and carefully tilts it up. His eyes land on the handprint, and he felt his blood run cold. "Did he do this to you?"

Carlos already knew the answer and didn't know why he asked, but he couldn't help it.

Michael squeezes his eyes closed and chews on his split lip despite the pain. How does he explain this one? He can't just say yes. His Father would kill him if he did, and while he's been ready to die for awhile now, dying by his Father's hands is truly terrifying.

His throat tightens as he tries to speak, but he manages to get a few hoarse words out. “Was my fault… didn't know the right answer… m sorry…” He whispers.

"You have no reason to apologize. None of this is your fault." Carlos answers. He looks up at Cecil. Cecil had gotten up and set the first aid kit on the table. Carlos mouths a 'thank you' before carefully tilting Michael's face, checking for bleeding or broken skin.

The boy sniffles and shakes his head as best he can while Carlos was holding it. "Didn't know the right answer… didnt wanna fight back… didnt know the right answer… m s-sorry I woke you both…"

Cecil waves his hand a little. "I needed to get up anyway."

Carlos takes his hand from Michael's face. "I don't see any bleeding. That's good at least." He sits back on his heels. "He wanted you to fight back?"

A small nod before he stops and shakes his head instead. "I… he said to… got mad when I didn't…" he pauses and looks away from the couple. "Got mad when I did… pushed him, and he grabbed m-me…" he swallows hard. "Couldn't touch the floor… then threw me down and yelled t leave…" he sniffles again. "I didn't know the right answer…"

Carlos clenches his jaw and doesn't answer. It takes all of his self control not to go down there and put his fist through Thomas's face. "Alright." He says. "You're safe now. He can't get you here. Do you want some water?"

He gives a weak nod. "P-please…" Michael chews on his split lip again. "m sorry…"

"I got it." Cecil says softly, standing and crossing over to the sink. He pulls a glass down and fills it half way before crossing the room again and pressing the glass into Michael's hands. "Drink."

It's a good thing Cecil only filled the cup half way since Michael's trembling would've spilled the water. He carefully sips from it. The coolness easing his strained throat while stinging his cut lip. "Thank you… m s-sorry…" He pauses as he drinks more of the water. "s my fault… I deserve it…" Michael softly repeats his Father's words.

"I promise you that you don't." Carlos stands to make a compress. "The opposite of deserve. Trust me."

"No one deserves that Michael." Cecil passes a hand through Michael's hair. "Especially not you."

Michael tenses when Cecil brushes his fingers through his hair, but he tries to relax. Knowing that they don't mean him harm is helpful, but most interactions with hands in his hair lead to pain and being pulled around. He stiffly shakes his head. "I-I do… m ungrateful… disrespectful… worthless… pathetic…" his trembling worsens, and his words hold layers of emotions. "I deserve it… it's my fault…"

Cecil pulls his hand away when Michael tenses. “Sorry.” He says softly. He sits back on his heels again to not overcrowd Michael.

Carlos returns to the table two minutes later with an ice pack from the freezer and a luke warm wash rag. He kneels back down and looks up at Michael. “Do you want me to treat your neck or arms first?”

"S-sorry, Cecil…" he whispers when the radio host pulls back from him. Michael knows there's no getting out of this. Carlos and Cecil will fix him as best they can even though he doesnt deserve it.

He looks down at the floor in front of him. Just past his bare feet and just before Carlos's knees. Staring at the small blood drops on the ground, he answers. "Foot? P-please… I- there was a broken bottle… i didn't pay attention… i pulled the glass out at the auction house…"

Carlos sits all the way down on the floor and carefully pulls Michael’s foot onto his lap. He rolls the pant leg up and inspects the cut. “How big was the glass that got stuck here? Do you know?” He asks as he picked up an alcohol swab and starts to clean the wound.

Michael quietly hisses as his foot ignites when Carlos starts to clean with the alcohol swab. "Um…" he pauses, trying to think. "I dunno for sure… it was from the bottom of the bottle and curved… maybe two inches? I-I was shaking when I pulled it out and it sliced it a bit more… m sorry…" the boy anxiously explains.

“The cut could have been a lot deeper so it’s good you pulled it out before it got worse or infected.” He looks up when Michael hisses. “Sorry. I know it hurts.” He finishes the cleaning before leaning closer to get a better look at the cut. “I don’t think it need stitches but I’m going to wrap it to be sure okay?”

Nodding, Michael tries to keep his leg still. His sprained ankle, which seems to always be sprained, is still bandaged, and now he will have the other foot wrapped up. "m mostly bandages…" he tries to joke and lighten the mood. "Thank you"

“You’re like a mummy from one of those movies Carlos likes so much.” Cecil says with a soft giggle and a yawn. He holds his arms outright and goans.

Carlos starts to wrap the foot and shakes his head with a chuckle. “I’d rather not have my son be a dead body please and thank you.” He secures the wrap and lowers the foot. “What next?”

The boy smiles at Cecil. He definitely needs to go back to sleep soon. "m pretty much already a dead body." Michael points out before shrugging. "Arms?"

“You aren’t dead if you’re still breathing.” Carlos counterpoints, picking up the cold compress. “This might ache for a moment.” He warns before laying it over the area with the most fresh bruises “But it’ll help them heal faster.” He was glad they managed to get a real smile out of him that time. He hears a dull thud and jumps a little, turning quickly. Cecil had fallen back asleep and as a result, fallen over under the table. “Well…..so much for needing to get up.” Carlos says with a raised eyebrow.

"ve stopped breathing before and m dead inside" Michael muses before bracing for the compress, so it won't be as bad. Flinching back when Cecil falls and whimpering at his torso.He's quiet for a moment. "didnt mean t wake both of you… m sorry…"

“I’m glad you did. You are more important. Always will be.” Carlos changed out the cold compress for the warm one, laying the cold one on Michael’s other arm. “I’ll take care of him in a bit. He has a hard head. He’ll be fine.”

A minute head shake, but no verbal argument. "m sorry…" he whispers before glancing at Carlos and looking away. "P-please don't be mad…" he begs despite not saying why Carlos would be angry or upset.

“I have no reason to be.” Carlos picks up the compress and inspects the arm. Some of the swelling has gone down, so that's good. He switches them out again before standing and going back to the freezer for a fresh ice pack.

"Thank- thank you, Carlos…" Michael looks at his arms before remembering that he has to show his stomach. Possibly more broken or cracked ribs, and his stomach would have terrible bruises from the kicks.

Carlos sits back down. "Is something else on your mind?" He asks, picking up the warm compress again. "I think that'll do for now…."

He chews on his lip again. "My stomach hurts… I… its gonna have new bruises too…" he whispers the last part.

"Can I see?" Carlos asks softly.

Hes gonna be disgusted…

Michael nods a little before carefully lifting the hem of his tattered hoodie up to show his bottom ribs and stomach.

Bruises litter the boy's pale skin. Some already deep purples while others were angry red on top of healing yellow and green skin. An indentation of Thomas's wedding ring left just below his diaphragm.

"m sorry…" He shakily whispers. His eyes closed to keep from seeing the disgust on Carlos's face.

Carlos' heart broke at the state of Michael's torso. It was a good thing Cecil fell back asleep because if he saw this, almost nothing would stop him from trying to fight Thomas. "I'm so sorry. Michael…. "

With his eyes still closed Michael shakes his head. "s-s okay… I… I deserved it… m sorry…"

Carlos shakes his head. "I think I still have some salve to help with the swelling. It'll make you feel better and you'll be able to breathe easier. Would you like to try it?"

Michael hadn't even noticed the individual pain from his throat as his entire body was ignited and throbbing. He doesn't want to use more of Carlos's supplies, but everything hurts and he just wants the pain to stop. So he nods carefully. "P-please?"

Carlos nods with a smile. "I'll be right back." He stands and goes back to the fridge, pulling out a small mason jar. He then sets it on the table. "We have to give it a few minutes to soften." He says as he kneels back down. "It doesn't really spread when its solid."

"m sorry…" he sniffles and pulls the hoodie back down. Only disgusting things visible now are his bruising eye and battered throat.

"You haven't done anything wrong." Carlos reassures him again. "I promise. You aren't in trouble. Not at all."

Michael shakes his head. Of course he's in trouble. He caused trouble at home and now he's causing trouble here. "m s-sorry… didn't know the- the right answer… m s-sorry…"

"There's no right answer in this situation." Carlos says softly. "But you're safe now and that's what matters."

"Al-always a wrong answer…" he fearfully whispers. His thin frame still trembling. "m s-sorry… shouldn't've- shouldn't've woken you up…"

"I'm glad you did. You are my first priority. Always. I will never regret helping you." Carlos picks up the jar and unscrews the lid. "Want me to do your neck first?"

His breathing picks up slightly. Knowing the salve needs to go on his neck and will help, knowing that Carlos wouldn't hurt him, but scared of the possibility. Regardless of his anxiety, the boy nods a little and closes his eyes.

"Would you rather do it yourself? I don't want to make you uncomfortable." Carlos offers him the jar.

A quick head shake. Hes scared of anything touching his throat, but he trusts Carlos. He already knows something that could kill him, so if he really wants the boy to die, then it will happen. But outsiders can trust outsiders. He trusts Carlos. His hero scientist.

"Alright. I'll be careful." Carlos takes some of the salve onto his index and middle fingers before starting to apply it. "My mama made this when I sprain my ankle jumping off the roof."

Michael tenses as Carlos begins to put the salve onto his throat. He trusts the scientist, but he's still just a scared kid. The boy holds his breath as best he can when Carlos touches the bruised, sensitive skin.

Carlos tilts Michael's chin up a little so he could see better. He is careful to not let his fingers linger on the bruises as he worked. "I'm sorry."

Small, soft whimpers come from Michael as Carlos carefully works on his throat. Eyes squeezed shut as the process seems to take forever. "Th-thank you." He brokenly whispers.

"There. All done." Carlos sits back. "That should soothe the pain. I can do your arms if you like. Or your torso?"

Michael opens his eyes when Carlos pulls back, a small sliver of a smile on his face. I shouldn't waste more of his supplies. He'll hate you. You worthless piece of- "p-please?" He softly asks.

"Which one first?" Carlos tilts his head.

"Um…" he looks down. He can relax more after his stomach is taken care of, right? "Stomach? If-if its okay…"

"Alright. I need to see again. Do you want a clean hoodie? Or a clean set of clothes for when we're done? I'd offer you the banana shirt but Cecil claimed it tonight." He gestures over to his sleeping husband.

A soft smile at the mention of the banana shirt, and Michael looks back at the mess that is a sleeping Cecil. "Please?" He gently asks as he lifts up the bottom of his hoodie. "I dont wanna risk Cecil seeing…"

"Alright. He's pretty dead to the world so that isn't an issue. I'll get you clothes when we finish here alright?" Carlos forces himself to not flinch when be sees Michael's torso again. 'Almost done okay?" He says as he starts to apply the salve in a slow gentle manner.

Michael nods. "Thank you…" He looks down at his battered torso. "m sorry… thank you for being nice…" He can't help but tense when Carlos touches Thomas's ring imprint even though he knows Carlos wont hurt him.

"Sorry." Carlos says softly. He looks up at Michael. "It's my pleasure. My biggest concern is your safety. Always."

"You're probably tired of having t deal with this stuff… m sorry I always bother ya with injuries and stuff…"

"Michael I will never get tired of helping you." Carlos picks the jar up again, scooping some more of the salve out. "Never."

"Y-yeah but it can't be fun… and people get tired of repetitive… boring… useless things…" He bites his lip again, reopening the cut that had just stopped bleeding.

"You are far from boring Michael. Trust me." He looks up. "Be careful. You will hurt yourself more. We don't want that."

"Multiple people would want that." Michael sighs, but stops chewing his lip. "And m hardly entertaining."

"I happen to think you're great."

The boy furrows his eyebrows. "Why? How did you come to that conclusion?"

"I got to know you. How else would I get to that conclusion?" Carlos quirked an eyebrow and pulled the hoodie down, finished with his work.

Michael relaxes once Carlos pulls down his hoodie. "You're biased and therefore it throws out your data." He tries to reason.

"And how exactly am I biased? Because I'm an outlier?" He couldn't help the slight smile.

"Yessir." He weakly smiles. "Therefore you should not be included."

"What about Cecil? Or Lisa? Or Trevor?"

"Lisa is not old enough to vote on any matter. Cecil is Cecil. Look at him." Michael nods at the passed out mess of a radio host. "A complete gay disaster and totally makes bad decisions. And Trevor, well, he probably doesn't even care. He's gotten use to you bringing home a beaten kid and just rolls with it probably. See something, say nothing."

"Cecil may be a mess but you know as well as I do that when he loves someone, he will move heaven hell and earth to keep them safe and happy." Carlos laughs softly. "Okay. What about Dana? Rochelle? Jason? Emmerissa? Mika? Janice? Roger? Earl? I can do this all night."

"Dana is pretending for your own mental comfort. Rochelle probably has a vendetta against you since shes knocked you out and zip tied you to a chair. Jason swallows firecrackers, and it probably isn't good for his head. Em connects to all the interns. I'm nothing more than an intern to her. A pretty bad one too with my attendance record." A half laugh. "Mika has Ainsel and I'm pretty sure they only tolerate me because we are partners for most history projects. Earl can't express how terrible I am because Cecil is his best friend and your husband has a temperament to throw hands. Roger and Janice are same as Earl's reasoning. You're gonna run out of people." Michael smirks.

"Josie? My dead abuela? I got hit with a rolling pin because she thought i wasn't feeding you enough. Khoshekh? Hell even the Faceless Old Woman."

"Carlos," Michael gently places his hand on the scientist's arm. "Are you being hurt by your abuela regularly? Oh sweetheart, are you being abused?" He playfully asks in a light tone. "You're not alone. We can get you help." His abuela was such a sweet woman when the boy met her. Though she didn't really understand why Carlos suddenly had a fifteen year old with him, especially not one that was so underweight.

Carlos snorts. "You and I both know my father was the abusive one not my abuela. You can't deny that Josie doesn't love you. Oh yeah and the hooded figures."

Michael smirks when Carlos slips up with his words. It is early morning after all. "You're right. I can't deny that Josie doesn't love me. It is true and I admit it. She does not love me just like you said." He twists his sleeves. "The hooded figures tolerate me just like they do with everyone else in Night Vale. They probably like you and Ceec more considering you used their dog park for a vacation shortcut."

Carlos groans and rubs his face. "You know what I mean." He smiles softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Thank you for saving me, hero." He gently smiles. "Not as bad as before coming here… m scared t go home… Father will want me back eventually…" A quiet, fearful confession.

"I'm not a hero." Carlos smiles back. "Well you are welcome to stay here as long as you need. Do you want to sleep in your room or ours?"

My room? I don't have a room… I stay in your guest room… "m scared t be alone…" Michael answers instead. He doesn't want to be alone, but it's not his choice. Having already burdened the couple, it is their choice where Michael ends up.

"Of course. Come on. I'll get you situated before moving Cecil. And I'll dig you up some pajamas." Carlos stands and offers his hand.

Relief floods the abused boy, and he shakily accepts Carlos's hand. His legs wobble as he tries to stand up. He ultimately has to cling to his papa to stay upright, groaning at the pain.

"Easy does it." Carlos picks him up and carried him to the master bedroom. He sits Michael on the bed before going to the dresser. "After last time, Cecil went nuts and bought a lot of pajamas so ...take your pick." He grabs five sets of flannel. One with taco cats, one space themed, one with birds on them, one with boats and solid green set.

You're not a little kid. You should walk on your own. Pathetic.

Michael chuckles at the selection he's offered. "Cecil likes to go overboard. Space?" He smiles before quickly adding. "If-if that's okay...please…"

"If he didnt, he wouldn't be Cecil." Carlos hands over the pajamas. "You get changed. I'll go get Cecil."

A small nod. "Thank you." He twists his sleeves before finally accepting he has to change.

"I will be right back. Call if you need me okay?" Carlos says before standing up straight and going back to the kitchen to clean up.

The boy nods, but he knows he wont. With the swelling and bruising around his throat, it would be too painful. Michael carefully begins to undress after Carlos leaves the room. The pajamas are extremely soft, and for a moment he doesn't worry about borrowing their supplies. For a moment he is simply a little kid who had a nightmare and is sleeping in his parents bed to keep himself safe. The monsters aren't under the bed though. They live in his house and inside his head, but they dont hurt him as much when hes with his new family. His dads keep him safe.

Carlos cleans the kitchen quickly, putting the ice packs back in the freezer and the salve back in the fridge. He made a mental note to go back to the park and get the first aid kit. He then kneels down beside Cecil and shakes him gently to wake him.

Cecil jerks upright, nearly hitting his head again. "Kevin I will punch you in your ugly face!"

"Punching Kevin will have to wait. It's time for bed." Carlos says with an amused smile. "Come on." Carlos helps Cecil stand and guides him back to the bed room, knocking on the door frame.

Michael twists the sleeves of his new outfit. Too scared to risk raising his broken voice, he knocks against the bed frame.

Carlos opens the door and guides Cecil back to the bed. "Sleep."

Cecil gives Michael a sleepy smile. "I like space." He giggles and yawns, booping Michael's nose. He crawls onto the bed and holds up the fuchsia comforter. "Bedtime."

The boy smiles back. "Space is neat." He giggles when Cecil boops his nose. Looking unsure at the comforter and sleepy radio host, Michael twists his sleeves. They're safe. We are family. They will keep me safe. He reminds himself before finally crawling to join the space underneath the blanket. "Thank you."

"Neat." Cecil gives a small nod and closes his eyes, asleep in a matter of moments.

Carlos slips under the blanket and looks at Michael. "Want me to leave the lamp on?"

"P-please?" He weakly asks. Pathetic.

Carlos nods and sets his glasses on the bedside table. "Alright. Bedtime for you too."

"Okay…" He carefully shifts to hug Carlos while they lay there. Resting his head on the scientist's chest. "Goodnight, my hero."

Carlos didn't have the heart or energy to argue. So he just smiles. "Good night Pez Pequeño." He whispers.

#my writing #tw abuse #tw blood #tw bruises #tw misgendering #tw degradation #tw strong language #tw strangulation #my oc michael #intern michael #michael palmer #wtnv cecil #cecil palmer #wtnv carlos #wtnv #welcome to night vale #carlos the scientist

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